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Chapter Text

Zuko was so embarrassed he could die.

Ever since he was shipped off on this out of commission boat with a crew of people he didn’t know and a battle scar that he earned too young, he had been nothing but miserable. Uncle was, of course, very understanding of his situation, and he appreciated it enough to try to reel back the outbursts that would fester under his palms and in his throat begging him to just burn the place to the ground and take everyone with him for robbing him of what is rightfully mine-

But he digresses. 

The unfortunate reality is that he now has to spend the most awkward years of his life on a ship with no privacy and an uncle with too much mischief in his eyes to be taken seriously. He would rather throw himself overboard than ask a member of the crew how they controlled their strength or slowed down the speed their nails would grow. He’s also rather sure that no one else is having these problems.

It began when a week after he had awoken from a fevered daze and a heavy bandage over his face that he would notice the tears in his threadbare blanket and gouges in his futon. He wouldn’t admit to the night terrors that stalked him every night, but he doubts they were bad enough for him to try to destroy his own room.

Then he looked at his hands.

What the fuck.

“What the fuck.” Zuko swore, staring at the sharpened points of his nails, near identical to Azula’s except where hers were pretty and painted, thin and sharp like a hairpin pointed at a jugular, his own felt thick, strong, able to withstand a beating.

He immediately scrambled for his nail file, and the resulting sound was enough for his remaining ear to ring. He gritted his teeth and tried again, wincing at the sound enough to not notice the crack in his file until it had already snapped in half. Zuko stared at it, then took a calming breath that only kind of helped. He looked around for the gloves his uncle had packed, the old man fretting near obsessively over his nephew’s well being for the trip. He thought it annoying at the time, but now, as he slid them over pale shaking hands to hide fingers belonging to a monster, Zuko was grateful. He spent the next few minutes regulating his heart beat, the candle on his desk rising and falling with his lungs, and then stood to begin the day. The gloves would reward him with curious glances, but anything was better than them seeing what was underneath. The real problem was figuring out how long he would have to deal with this, or if he had just unwillingly became a smaller-cut figure of one of his distant noble cousins who feared to touch even the hair of his own head without coming in contact with some skin-eating disease. They’d be a hindrance in training, too, the soft panda-sheep wool would catch in an instant if he attempted to bend with them on, and he was already behind in his curriculum, he couldn’t put off his drills. 

Zuko sighed, flexing his hands to try to get used to the strange feeling of them covered up, and stepped out onto the deck. Immediately he could see his uncle sitting by a small low table, holding a steaming cup and breathing in the passing sea breeze. The peaceful atmosphere soon broke, however, when a few of the soldiers on deck greeted their prince, alerting the man of his nephew’s presence. He turns to the boy, words sitting on his tongue when he notices the new garments he’s sporting.

“Feeling sick, nephew?” Uncle asked, brow raised. Zuko grumbled in response and tucked his hands under his arms in an attempt to be casual. 

“I wounded my hands last night, we’ll stick to cold katas for today.”

“Really? May I take a look?” Worried now, Uncle reaches out a weathered hand for his nephew’s wrist, but is refused by way of Zuko taking a quick step back.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about it. I’m going to eat.” Without waiting for a response, he whipped around, phoenix tail snapping in the wind, and stomped to the mess hall, crew hurriedly averting their eyes as he grew near. Since then, there had been nothing but careful gazes following his every move during lessons, and not-so-subtle remarks by crew about how they should invest in gloves for the upcoming colder climate of the western air temple, as if their entire nation didn’t produce blood hot enough for even a non-bender to be unaffected by the most tempest of climates. Even worse, the time it had taken to get to the temple only forced Zuko to burn through what meager excuses he could come up with to not show the strange nails sprouting from his fingers, the beds darkening with each passing day to a duller and duller gray reminiscent of a sun-parched sea. Saying that he had hurt himself like a child was humiliating, but it was better than admitting the truth. His uncle would probably baby him more than ever if he found out while the rest would whisper behind his back, words of ‘ Shouldn’t he know what that is?’ and ‘The poor prince can’t even take care of himself!’ slithering in the air like smoke meant to suffocate him. The boy snorted in anger, flame peeking out from his nostrils and causing a low-rank nearby to freeze. He’ll figure it out on his own, and he’ll do it with no one the wiser.

If someone interviewed Lieutenant Jee about his opinion on his smaller, younger, very loud captain, the most he would comment on would be how fucking cold he is instead.

When prompted further, though, Jee could admit that Prince Zuko was a pretty weird kid. Even past the whole scar issue and teen angst that plagued their poor, beat-up ship near daily, there was something about him that took a little getting used to. It was the glow of pale flame present in his eyes, a royal gold that could look down into your core. The silence in his movements, the sureness in each step. It was the way he walked, a gait that seemed to start with his shoulders instead of his core, as if he was slinking around like an owl-cat smugly locked in a room with scurrying vole-mice. Of course, being as wound up as a little prince could be, most of the time one would only see how he stomped around, nearly denting the deck with the power behind his heels. 

Jee will admit the royal family is full of natural phenomena in human form, but seeing a newly minted 14 year old twist the railing he was holding onto when his uncle decided to play his tsungi horn in celebration is pretty high up on the list.

He thinks that the fact that he even has a list should be enough for him to retire with a pension.

Their ship was small, and her mess hall even smaller, so rumors over even the most outlandish and trivial things could spread like wildfire. One of them, a nonbender whose knack for mechanics often has him below deck with the official engineer, Hakado, had told him that there were times where he swore up and down he could hear the snarling of an ocean beast rattling the pipes down in the engine room. Most took his word after the incident where one scoffed at his ramblings and Hakado revealed the nights in which he would tend to relieve his tensions in retaliation. The poor soldier still got lecherous grins every Saturday, and the prince had to be convinced it wasn’t mutiny but something he’d ‘understand when he got older.’

So when this rumor sprang up, nearly the entire crew was awash with fear of the unknown. Now, every creak of the hull or groan of the bow meant they were about to be eaten by a Spirit of unfathomable origin. On top of that, the youngest of them, a 19 year old named Kai, swore from Agni to La that while swabbing the hallways late one night as punishment he could hear a muted screeching coming from the prince’s quarters. 

“Like nails on slate!” he would claim, gesturing wildly and nearly hitting the helmsman with the end of his mop, “It went on for hours, sir, what could possibly make that kind of noise except something that is going to eat us in our sleep?!”

“Maybe Prince Zuko was just sharpening his dao swords?” Jee suggested, already feeling a headache. The young man just shook his head and turned away from both his captain and the growing crowd of eavesdroppers forming behind him.

“No offense, sir, but metal doesn’t sound like that.”

The months following his banishment were almost as bad as living with his hellspawn sister, though Zuko might prefer the reprieve of turtle-ducks to the roof of the conning tower that he had unofficially claimed as his own during the after-hours. He started to feel bad for scaring the crew after the fifth incident where one of those on duty would climb bleary-eyed to the lookout deck not at all expecting the small place to already be occupied by their silent, brooding prince and nearly plunging over the rail as soon as they looked up and saw glowing yellow eyes piercing what should have been an empty darkness. 

He will admit the first few times were funny, though.

Eventually the rest learned to leave the place be, and to shut their eyes and ears to whatever their Prince was up to, not wanting to deal with the repercussions the next day. Zuko used the opportunity to both keep up the maintenance on his hands, (he had managed to haggle for a piece of old grindstone from a weary blacksmith, and though it wasn’t strong enough to dull what he had to blunts without working on them for days, it was enough to keep them at least somewhat normal) and to give his sheets a break from the constant abuse they suffer thanks to his restless dreams. Though both his uncle and neck disagree, it had become a habit to doze up on the roof, lulled by the wan moonlight and steadiness of waves lapping against the sides of his ship. He prayed to Agni that he was high enough that the rest of his men wouldn’t hear the tell-tale shriek of stone against whatever the hell he had, and that the slow, meticulous method he adapted was enough to help dampen it further. 

But oh, how he loathed the feeling.

The steady grind on his fingertips caused an unsettling buzz to spread across his body, tightening his shoulders and making his teeth grit. Zuko could feel every brush he forced himself to make against the nail; hair raised the entire process, but it was a necessary evil. He reasoned with himself that everyone had to deal with it, and that sooner or later this would be nothing to him but another menial task. If there was any good to come about this, it was that he could finally ditch the gloves and go back to normal. If anyone noticed the dark smudges under his eye, he would just scowl all the harder, blending them in with the harsh shadows of his face until they were none the wiser. Maybe if he glared hard enough, made his face like those in the Fire Lord portraits that lined the hall to the throne room, the people who unwillingly followed him would finally start to treat him like an adult instead of some kid wearing his father’s too-big work shoes. Maybe all he needed was a few more lines on his face to be able to finally breathe fire. Real, threatening fire, something that could be used,  something he had strived for ever since his uncle had proudly showed off what he said was “one of the many things that made our family special”. He had only been able to cough out sparks before, much to the amusement of his sister, but now he could finally feel the heat on his tongue, exhilarating and terrifying and new. Nothing he could use outside of warming his own core, nothing that would bring the Fire Nation real pride, but enough to work with. Zuko could almost picture it now, him with the Avatar bound and burnt, kneeling at his father’s throne welcomed back with open arms and surprised joy at how he had finally grown into a prince worthy of the Fire Nation. An excited huff of flame burst from his lips in tandem with his heartbeat rising before he shook his head. Now wasn’t the time to get lost in grandiose delusion. For now, he had to focus on getting stronger, finding the Avatar and restoring his honor. 

It wouldn’t hurt to be able to finally get one up on that annoying lieutenant Zhao either.

“I’m telling you, sir, I saw it! Fangs soaked in flame, floating by the smokestack! Almost plummeted to my doom climbing the ladder, I did.” A harried lookout, one of the new recruits, reported to Jee, sweat sticking to his brow and eyes alight with mania. “This ship is either being haunted or hunted, and to be frank, I’d really rather not find out which it’ll be!”

“Mutiny, then?” A soldier nearby called out, making the scrawny man jump in further fright.

“No mutiny, thank you, Rai.” Jee responded, placing hands on his hips in hopes of keeping the sudden bout of weariness back. He was so goddamn tired. 

“So you think there’s a flame beast among our steel then, kid? And it just happens to only show up when we’re going to La’s asshole? The ice will get to it before it’ll become a problem, I’m sure.” Rai continued with a smirk painting her lips, unbothered by the stifled gasp of laughter her companion shoots out. 

“Captain, I swear on my mother, I’m not kidding. I’m not the only one who saw it either, there’s been talks for days now about anomalies from bow to stern lately. Honest!” The man clasped wind-chilled fingers together in hopes of looking more convincing, but Jee just thinks he’d confused those in the observation deck with the aunties who run the kitchen, soft for any sweet talk and willing to help ‘growing young boys’ with midnight snacks. 

“General, any ideas?” Jee called over his shoulder to the older man invested in a game of pai sho with the helmsman, head chef, and vice-captain, all who really should be doing their jobs right now. 

Iroh seemed to have not even heard the query at first, but after a long moment closed his eyes and pinched the beard on his chin, “I doubt it is anything to worry about, probably just one of our own looking for a bit of privacy.”

“Y-you think it was just firebending, General? Pardon me, but I’ve never seen anything like that from the crew.” Said the lookout, furrowed brow making the sweat glint even more obviously. Honestly, Jee was a little worried the lad had a bit of a medical condition. 

The older man just laughed heartily, grasping at the belly he had tended to with tea snacks and roast duck, “Boy, it is good to see someone so confident in the strength of one’s crew, however,” and with this, he shot out a quick burst of flame from his mouth, strong enough to startle those around them but weak enough to not reach the precious game pieces that lay at his lap, “you must keep your mind open to any possibility.”

The lookout nodded quickly and scrambled out the quarters, probably bee-antsy to tell his bunkmates that he got to witness the signature move of the Dragon of the West, so rarely used now it had become near rumor to the younger generation. The captain in comparison leisurely made his way over to the other, bending at the waist to murmur in his ear.

“Am I right to assume it’s the Prince, then?”

Iroh hummed, lifting a cup of jasmine tea to breathe in, “The boy is dealing with something no one on this ship would dare to try to understand, but if there’s one thing I’m confident in, it’s his discipline.”

Jee highly disagreed, the repair costs of shredded bedding and bent chopsticks lingering on his tongue, but instead he just sighed again and turned to the helmsman, smacking him on the back of the head and disrupting the man from staring at the pai sho board in a mix of frustration and helplessness.

“Go back to your station, we have a tribe to get to.”

They had been in the South for about a week now, and Zuko was absolutely confident in one thing.

Snow sucked.

Zuko clenched his fists behind his back so no one could see them trembling. He didn’t have to be out here, not really, but most of his men were and they already had enough fun calling him a little kid, he didn’t want to add kindling. But he was regretting it severely now, and multiple times almost caved at the thought of retreating to his quarters (quiet, smelled familiar, safe) but each time he would catch Captain Jee’s gaze on him and steeled his resolve. A prince should be able to handle this, he reasoned, especially one from the Fire Nation. Before they arrived, his Uncle was especially adamant about practicing his inner fire, and now Zuko was certain that without it he would have long turned into a fire-pop. 

It wasn’t even the cold as much as the constant dampness in the air, the snow sticking like a parasite and soaking to the bones, greedy for marrow as white as its crystals. It was never-ending, a draining feeling, something that made Zuko want to take a nap for the next year. 

Their only saving grace was the everlasting sun, weak as Agni’s rays were. Sleeping was a nightmare for the benders on board, since their blood still thrummed with the call of the sun, but it was just the energy boost Zuko desperately needed so he wouldn’t pass out. 

Being tired all the time was a familiar feeling to everyone here, so he tried his best to get used to it. Maybe this was part of growing taller? He had heard some housewives complain about their son’s growth spurts a few times when he would browse the markets with his Uncle. All sorts of things happened, apparently, and after hearing a particular mother practically spell out every issue her son was dealing with, Zuko sent a small prayer for the boy while simultaneously wishing that sort of interest in his private life never happened. What he was dealing with was a lot weirder though, and he can only assume that this kind of change was exclusive only to those born from his homeland. 

The teasing of his nails had finally weaned; he was long accustomed to being asked if someone could borrow the shade of polish he used. Zuko guessed they would be back to normal pinkish as he got older, the slate he was now sporting a giant advert basically saying ‘Look at me! I’m just a dumb teenager!”. It was embarrassing, but all he could do was stomach the ridicule and move on. All of this would end sooner or later.

What he wasn’t expecting was his teeth falling out.

He remembered waking up on a rare day where the night sky wasn’t worth sleeping in the cold breeze to something hard on his tongue, and seeing a blunt canine resting innocently on his palm when he spat it out. It was a little alarming, yes, but Zuko assumed it had been knocked loose during sparring practice (though he couldn’t remember ever getting hit in the face, the crew tended to avoid that area) and had finally removed itself in his restless slumber. The gap was distracting, a negative space his tongue couldn’t help but press against. He couldn’t taste blood, and hoped he didn’t look like a swamp dweller because of this. He threw the tooth in the ocean out of sight and didn’t think about it for the rest of the day.

He woke up the next with two more canines at the cusp of choking him.

Admittedly, by this point Zuko thought that one of the crew had finally cursed him, and sucked up the courage to ask his Uncle for advice. The old man calmly gazed at the teeth being offered, and then without much warning pried open his nephew’s mouth to look at the damage. 

“Don’t worry, my boy,” He said after a minute, eyes warm and a smile on his lips, “it’s normal in this family. They’ll grow back soon enough.”

They had, thankfully, at a speed that didn’t feel right but something Zuko would no longer question. The four new teeth seemed just the same as his old ones, sprouting only a month after his final canine fell out, and Uncle teased him by saying his nephew had turned into an orca-shark. Zuko could feel his ears burn and ignored him for the rest of the day.

He’s brought out of his musings by his captain, “Sir, there seems to only be one coastal village in the direction we’re headed.”

“How far?” he murmured, taking his eyes off the ice floats near them to focus on Jee.

“I’d surmise about four days.”

“Very well, maintain course, we’ll perform a quick sweep and see if they have supplies to spare. After that we’ll work our way inland on the komodo-dragons. Tell the helmsman.”

“Understood.” Captain Jee gave a tight bow before making for the control room. Zuko watched the man leave, almost raising a brow at the stiffness in the man’s back and the clenched fists, and only when he closed the door behind him did he finally let out a yawn. Detrimental to his goal it was, he couldn’t help the slight hope the Avatar wouldn’t actually choose such a place to camp out. Visiting the Southern Air temple was acceptable, but Zuko wasn’t in the mood to subject him and his crew to these frigid winters any more than they had to. Thankfully their trip managed to get them here during the summer, otherwise the complete absence of the sun would have been paramount to mass suicide. Tales of the loss of Agni the Water Tribes inflicted upon themselves was a popular story mothers would tell their children before threatening them to be shipped off to such places unless they maintained good behavior, so the news of his crew traveling more south than ever made his men uneasy. Not even Zuko was fully immune, even though he was the one giving the order; Azula would tease him from time to time that their father was planning to sell him to the Water Tribe because they needed war funds, and he would lie in his bed the same night, staring at his ceiling and imagining a chill in his bones that could freeze him from the inside out. 

Zuko looked around before asking one of the men checking the railing for rust (as if there wasn’t rust on every sheet of metal this boat was wearing), “Where’s my Uncle?”

The man jumped, glancing at his Prince briefly before turning his gaze to the floor and saluting, “I believe he retired to his quarters, my Prince.”
Zuko huffed, steam sneaking out between his teeth, and turned on his heel to the cabins. When he got to his Uncle, he only bothered knocking once before letting himself in.

“Uncle, it’s time to-” he stopped himself at the sight of Iroh sprawled on his bed, blanket askew and mouth wide open mid-snore. The boy felt his good eye twitch and stomped over to the man, giving him a vicious kick off the bed with his foot.

“How long are you going to sleep for? It’s midday! Wake up!”

The Avatar was just a boy. Skinny, bald-headed, nervous in the way he held his staff as he stared up at Zuko and his entourage.

It reminded him a little too much of himself.

Zuko pushed away the thought with a grimace and began negotiation. He would honestly rather not fight. Neither he nor his Uncle were in the best shape, and though he could blame himself for his own weakness, he didn’t want to worsen the older man’s condition. Thankfully, the Avatar had acquiesced, and soon he was on his own ship with a legend he had been chasing the tailwind of for two years. Finally, finally he could go home, and be his father’s son again. 

But of course, like everything good in his life, this was only short-lived. 

Soon enough, the Avatar attempted to escape, slamming his own duvet into him in a way that was too embarrassing to admit. Somehow, he slipped past all the crew walking the halls. Somehow, he managed to fend for himself on the open deck. Somehow, a flying bison appeared. A Water Tribe pair, a girl and a boy, soon joined him, and Zuko, quite frankly, was ready to flip his fucking lid. He was sick of the universe getting in his way, and the anger was bubbling up out of his throat, his eye, his nose in a way that was unfamiliar. He clawed the side of his ship with lethality in his gaze, snarl painting his lips and fangs too small to be considered fangs bared for all to see. His Uncle pulled him up, quick enough for him to see half his men frozen in deadly ice and his only ticket back home fleeing to the sky.

“Shoot them down!” he roared, then joined his Uncle in lighting the projectile. But the Avatar, that brat , changed its trajectory at the last moment, causing their ship instead to be covered in snow. The heat of his anger already sapping away as the chill set in, Zuko did nothing but roar in fury at the retreating figures before they disappeared in the clouds.

Being part of the Fire Nation navy was stressful. The uniforms, the etiquette, the inherent expectation that each person on deck was willing to throw their lives away for a man they had never met, who had driven many to poverty in the name of peace, who had done nothing about the famines, or the colonies, or the black stain of the council that grew darker each day, who had forced everyone to be here anyway whether they wanted to or not.

Being part of the exiled Prince’s crew was even more taxing.

Thus leading to a much needed break in the form of music night, which had unofficially become “complain about the moody teenager that’s supposed to be in charge of us” night. Sometimes the general even joined in, though it seemed to be more for the assortment of snacks than riffing against his own nephew.

He knew they needed an outlet, and Zuko knew it too, even though he pretended to not know what they all talked about, as if their voices didn't start ringing down steel corridors at least four bottles of stowed alcohol in.

“I can’t believe he didn’t kill all of you,” The head chef piped up, amusement glimmering in his eyes along with the fire that they all encircled, “Especially since his precious Avatar got away.”

“He was too busy putting dents in the deck and unfreezing Kai’s sorry ass to do much else.” Himiko responded, taking a swig of her drink and tapping her feet almost mindlessly to the tune that the others with instruments were improvising. 

“Hey!” the man in question stood up abruptly and pointed a finger at her. His gaze and posture was unsteady, and his already flushed face turned beet red, “how was I supposed to know we would have to deal with waterbending? I- hic- I thought the Southern Raiders took care of everyone!”

“The girl was a surprise, but, again, that was the Avatar . How the fuck did you not expect waterbending.”

“I-I wasn’t even the only one who got frozen!” Kai sat back down and oh spirits, was he crying?

“The prince said it was okay, too. I think. He was growling a lot.” He rested his head in his hands, staring at the flames, “His fire was really nice…”

“Kai, don’t! He’s still a minor!” someone teased, and the boy was up on his feet again, sputtering denials and trying not to look in the corner where General Iroh sat, already feeling a cold chill from that direction.

“Alright, stop teasing.” Jee reprimanded, and the rest settled back down. “We’ve all had a rough day, let’s just put this behind us and brace for what’s to come. We’ll be docking in a few days for repairs, think about what you plan on doing then. Aido,” the head chef perked up, “take note of our stores and write a list of what we need accordingly.”

“Aye, captain.” the man lazily salutes.

“Oh, boy, I can’t wait to finally be able to eat congee with a pinch of salt instead of just the salt.” Himiko said blandly, “We might even have enough money this time to buy a single apple too.”

Jee winced, thinking about the cost of repairs, “That’s wistful thinking, unfortunately.”

The aftermath of trying to capture the Avatar on Kyoshi Island could be summed up with two main points: the prince was pissed and Jee could never look at snake-eel the same way ever again. It wasn’t really how he expected the raid to go, to be honest. It was a good day, a kind of day where nothing could really go wrong, and they would finally be able to make progress on their quest.

Jee had unfortunately forgotten that luck had not only abandoned his dear prince, but those who would choose to follow him as well.

So now, as he and the rest of the crew desperately tried to squeeze water out of their socks after getting showered by the Unagi’s bountiful water, the firebenders in their ranks helpfully steaming their shirts in the process, Jee was forced to watch as his prince paced back and force with a flat ponytail plastered to his shaved head and fists doing more to heat up the deck than any stone hearth could even hope to provide.

“We almost had him!” The boy hissed, a sharp burst of steam whistling between his teeth. General Iroh laughed at the display, making a few of the crew raise their brows as if they were looking at a mad man for showing humor when the most hot-headed person on the planet was in the middle of making a very good impression of a whistling teapot. However, instead of exploding like those on deck thought, their prince instead scowled and looked to the side, face awash with red and lips pressed tightly together.

“Oh, don’t be embarrassed, dear nephew. It happens to us all,” the man began, leaning forward with a groan to dry his feet with the towel wrapped around his neck, “I remember back when your father was so angry at failing to catch a toad-gecko in the yard he couldn’t stop the smoke coming from his nose until it was time for supper.”

The boy stopped, stance relaxing just the slightest, though his brows remained furrowed, and then sat down stiffly beside his uncle, arms crossed and trying to burn holes into the floor with his glare. 

“There’s a good lad, hand me my shoes, would you?”

The prince growled, a sound familiar yet different, but obeyed, drying the boots in his grasp before handing them over in a very rare show of softness. Iroh took them with a thanks, and continued shamelessly telling embarrassing childhood stories about the most feared man on the planet like they were in a tea shop full of tittering housewives instead of a near beaten to death battleship. Jee assumed this was all meant to serve as a distraction to the boy so he wouldn’t turn his blind wrath to his crew and sink his reputation even lower than it already had reached. Their recent altercation with the newly minted Admiral Zhao most certainly hadn’t helped either. To say nothing about whether he could fully believe that the words of the two foot soldiers who accompanied the prince and the general weren’t spiced with drama to entice everyone enough to give them two more minutes of fame, the thought of the boy’s life almost coming to an end like that caused something to cool in Jee’s chest, even though Iroh was more than enough to ensure that would never come to be. Even if he was a nonbender, Jee couldn’t imagine looking in the eye of the prince during battle and not thinking ‘ This is just a kid I’m fighting.’  

Not that he would ever let the prince know what he thought of him. Agni knows he has enough problems.

He hoped it was just normal teenage problems too, something that comes for even the most heartless person. But no, not even that could be within expectations. Sure, Zuko still acted loud, brash, easily embarrassed, but in the two years and some months they’ve been canned on this floating coffin, Jee had been witness to things that would give him the mother of all migraines if he thought too hard about it. 

The hands, the strength, the teeth. Either everyone was too afraid to stay in his presence too long to notice, or they all thought that they finally became spirit-touched, because no one bothered to ask the Prince what the fuck was going on. Jee almost did, once, but one look from a protective uncle dissuaded him, leaving nothing but a foul taste on his teeth and question marks near bursting out of his skull. 

That was then, though. The weirdest thing that had happened in a while was the teeth, and by then everyone had acclimated enough to not bat an eye and let the prince be embarrassed by himself. They had all kept an eye on him while at the heart of the polar south, while the general was holed up in his room to presumably slumber himself, inconspicuous enough that he wouldn’t notice they were all ready to catch him lest he banged his head on the rail after falling victim to another bout of sleep-sickness. Again.  

Once was enough, thank you. 

It had faded as soon as they escaped her icy clutches to repair hull, and the previously dazed prince is now back to 100% biting form. Loud, brash, and willing to dive head-first into any sort of danger without thought to those around him if it meant a chance that he could go back home. If he could even find a way to fit himself back into a place like that.

The prince finally pulls himself away from his uncle’s stories, phoenix tail fluffed from the humidity that came with steam pouring from his head. 

“Quiet now, Uncle. We need to follow them quickly before they slip from our grasps.” 

The general looked up at the sky, eyes glinting in a way that must’ve been a trick of the light, before heaving up to his feet with a loud, exaggerated groan.

“Not to worry, nephew; it looks like they’re flying in the direction of a nearby iron prison. We could kill two swallow-birds with one stone, resupply and maybe get precious cargo along the way.” 

Zuko looked towards the sky as well, brow furrowed and remaining eye squinting enough to match the burnt one, like he was trying to make something out. 

“Fine. Helmsman, chart the course to the Earth Kingdom mainland!”

The man in question scrambled to his feet with a ‘sir!’ and went to do just that. Jee took the chance to look up in the direction he remembered the flying bison left. Nothing but clear blue dotted with fluffy clouds greeted him.

Uncle was taking a long time coming back from the springs. 

Zuko waited, then waited some more, and when Agni was finally high in the sky, he caved, barking for a few of his men to follow him so they could drag the old man back home (home?).

Uncle was not there when they arrived. 

Instead, Zuko was met with damning evidence that the old general had been picked up by some earthbenders. By the look of the nearby branch, he was taken without his clothes too.

The prince pinched the part between his eyes and turned back to his komodo rhino, swinging onto the animal and ordering his men to stay put in case his Uncle managed to escape on his own. Soon enough, he found a sandal lying innocently on the road. He dismounted and gave it a cursory sniff.

“…Yeah, that’s Uncle Iroh.”

Pocketing the slipper, he looked at the road he was following before turning back to his komodo rhino. He raised his nose to the wind, catching the scent again, and urged his mount to follow the trail. Halfway through, he heard the unmistakable bellow of a flying bison. Zuko jerked his head to the sky, eyes narrowed onto the beast, and out of habit turned his mount around the give chase. But a few steps through he remembered what he was doing in the first place. A few minutes of deciding led him to straighten back on his original course, huffing in annoyance at yet another escape, though only one of the party was aware of it. He followed the road for most of the day, the trail staying true to the well-beaten path until it veered sharply downhill. When he finally caught up, it was to the sight of his uncle chained to a rock, his hands about to be crushed by a boulder. 

Without thinking, Zuko launched in the air, kicking the boulder off course before turning back to Uncle and drop-kicking his binds undone with the steel edge of his boot. The newly freed general stood with a grin, shaking his chains and praising his nephew on his form. The two then stood back-to-back, facing the flabbergasted earthbenders.

(Later, when they were all nursing their wounds waiting around for their commander to come yell at them for losing the Dragon of the West, they would ask each other what in the fuck they fed their Fire Nation children to be able to kick rocks, split iron , like that. Iroh would not ask these questions to his charge, for he already knew why, and if he sometimes forgot that not everyone had these qualities, it was no skin off his nose.)

The fight was an explosion of dust and flame. Uncle swung around his chains like he personally chose to wear them, blocking projectiles with an ease that spoke of years of fighting against these kinds of attacks. Zuko was less prepared, dodging and weaving between stones with a litheness that had become a part of him like a second skin, one he grew himself after years of living with his sister and her entourage. Anger habitually sparked inside him to assist in powering his flame, letting him throw fire at his enemies with a shout. He had already taken down two when the leader of the squad started making big motions, like he was digging into the earth to grasp what he needed. A wall of dirt and rock started to form, rumbling loudly as stone clacked together, menacing, promising to crush the boy under their weight without his say in the matter. Zuko stood aghast in its shadow, panicking for a fatal moment before the earthbender suddenly had chains wrapped around his legs, yanking them out from under him and causing him to collapse, his creation soon falling on top of him instead. His Uncle appeared behind as a result, grinning in a way reminiscent of when he would sneak up on the crew during the many ( many) times they would smacktalk Zuko. The two stood there together in a rare moment of harmony, casting their gaze on the groaning soldiers. Zuko grinned in a rare moment of feeling victorious and put a still-hot hand on his Uncle’s shoulder. 

“Now would you please put on some clothes?”

The room was silent as the General’s words settled into the bones of the crew.

“I had heard rumors,” Aido says, hesitant, “that he had done it to himself. Fire training accident.”

Rai snorted, looking into her empty mug with a twist of her lips, “My barracks leader told us Princess Azula burned his eye out after he looked at her a little too funny. ‘ The makings of a real Fire Lord, that little ember!’ ” she parroted with a mocking tone. The General was staring at the fire, a wan smile on his face that looked near as hollow as his eyes. 

“The council wanted to keep the news to only a select few, you see. Only those with deep stakes in my brother and their families were allowed to the Agni Kai.” He looked up then, “They were afraid of civil unrest.”

Another beat of silence, before Jee finally speaks.

“Sir,” he began, “might you tell us what exactly is going on with the Prince?” In his peripheral vision, he sees the rest of his men perk up with interest, though some feign otherwise.

Iroh looked at him for a long while before sighing, “I suppose we’ve all been together long enough that you deserve to know.” He takes the time to refill his cup, ignoring the heavy stares of his crew, and then starts his tale. 

He told them about the beginning of fire, the dragons, and the Sun Warriors who grew along with them. These things they all already knew, stories their mothers would whisper in their ears as they drifted to slumber. Iroh told them of the reason for royalty, the lineage of Agni himself, and the potency of such a bloodline. 

“To be honest,” Iroh coughed into his fist, “I’m not sure if this legend is quite true. What truly is within the royal family, however, is something a bit more prominent.” He flashed a grin, “What we have is the blood of dragons running through our veins.”

No one said anything, and then Kai, drunk as he probably was, gave out a snort.

“You mean that thing we all pretended we did when we were all 9 summers?” He chortled, leaning heavily on a sweating foot soldier who looked like he wished with every fiber in his being he chose somewhere else to sit. Thankfully, the General also laughed. 

“Sounds strange, I know! But it is the truth.” He calmed down after a few more chuckles, “to be honest, my dear nephew seems to be having a much worse time than any of our other kin. The ailments he has were all things I would only see isolated, never all at once. The only other person to have near as rough a time was my brother.”

He looked up at them, a touch more serious now, “I know it is too much to forgive the boy for how he has acted, but I would still hope you all will at least be willing to stay by his side. He is going through things that no one on this ship can even imagine.” 

“What about you then, General? You got dragon blood in you?” Rai called. 

The older man laughed once then tapped his throat, “I thought my title would’ve been clear enough a hint.”

Outside, the storm gets worse and worse.

Zuko was so stupid.  

What was he doing? Why was he here, sneaking into Zhao’s fortress on his way to rescue his most hated enemy. As the Blue Spirit!? That part was a dream he had had since he was young, but the rest? He was out of his mind! 

Getting into the stronghold had been worryingly easy, and was even easier to take down Zhao’s men. The hard part started when the Avatar insisted on explaining why he was there in the first place and that the Water Tribe he was traveling with was sick and why he had half frozen frogs tucked into his tunic and would you please be quiet you are going to blow our cover-

And he didn’t have to be here. The Avatar was caught, great! Just what his people needed to finally get this long war over and done with. Maybe they could start focusing on civil peace instead of war peace once his father had the monk in grasp. They didn’t need Zuko for that part, not really. He was always reminded about his inadequacies when it came to politics and ruling. He could just stay with his Uncle on their weathered boat for the rest of their days, maybe even open up a tea shop.

But just the mere thought of that slimy rat-viper Zhao swooping in and taking the prey he was hunting for three years right under his nose made something nestled at the bottom of his ribs burn . Made his teeth knash and eyes narrow. The Firelord had waited 100 years for the Avatar to be thrown at his mercy, he could wait for a little while yet. 

This determination gave him the strength to not just knock out the boy and carry him back to his ship. Instead, he rounded sharply to the Avatar and raised a finger to the mask’s lips in the universal gesture of ‘ shut the fuck up’.

“Oh, right. Sorry.” The boy apologized, grinning sheepishly, before the two continued on, finally making it to a wall that, once rappled, would lead straight to the exit. 

Unfortunately, Zuko was never good at cleaning up his messes.

“There you are.” Zhao’s face was folded into a smirk before he ordered the rope cut, causing the two to fall roughly on the ground below. Near instantly, they were surrounded by guards who cared nothing but carrying out orders. The men started for the Avatar, but he quickly proved why he was such a prickly thorn in Zuko’s side by dodging their attacks and jumping just enough to be out of the way so much that even the most mild-mannered man would start huffing.

They instead focused most of their energy on the more available Zuko, who could do nothing but swing with cold steel instead of flame lest his identity be revealed. The fighting did no favors to lower his too-high adrenaline either. Something in him singed to the tune of battle, to dance with the beat of warcry and fly in the air in tandem with the heartbeats of those around him. A soldier nicked his arm and he snarled in response, lips pulled in a grin full of teeth behind the wooden mask, unseen to all. The Avatar, meanwhile, managed to carve a path to the exterior courtyard using his airbending, leaping in the air and soaring in the sea of guards in a way that made Zuko jealous. The airbender dropped a ladder for his masked savior, and while they were both climbing it one of the soldiers finally had the bright idea to use firebending, setting the bamboo to blaze and causing the two to scramble to the other side of the wall to relative safety. A whole new round of guards awaited them, so tantalizingly close to the exit, and these men were more inclined to use their ingrained gifts.

 A few began firebending, but this was quickly stopped at Zhao’s outraged cry of “Don’t kill the Avatar! We need him alive!”.  This shout made Zuko more before he could think, swooping up behind the startled boy and turning steel against his small neck. The courtyard went still, and though he was too far away to be sure, Zuko was positive Zhao was ready to pop a vein.

After a few beats, the man finally relented. 

“Let them through.”

Slowly, eyes glinting and focused on the admiral, Zuko urged the boy in his grasp to start backing up with him. They made their way, step by step, under the watchful gaze of everyone else. They had just passed the threshold when Zuko saw Zhao jerk his head, and then something blurry and sharp and dangerous too fast too fast hit the side of his temple and sank him into a numb darkness.

Aang was having a weird day.

Not the weirdest day he’d ever had. That goes to the time Bumi had pranked him by convincing him that he was actually his twin from the west and was sent by the spirits to warn him he would grow an extra eye when he was 20 years of age, only for them both to run into a child who could have actually been his doppelganger the next day.

But finding out the man (teen really, maybe even still a kid like him deep down) that had saved him from the Fire Nation’s grasp was none other than the guy who was setting fire to his tail for the past month or two was a little strange. 

He almost left Zuko, Aang wasn’t proud to admit. If he was being painfully honest,  he would choose his friends over the prince in a heartbeat. But that would be when it’s normal, angry, loud Zuko. The Zuko laying at his feet was silent, pale in the moonlight, scar on display. The temple that got hit was awash with a slow trickle of blood, and now that he doesn’t have the furrow of his brow, he reminds Aang a little too much of Kuzon. 

So he stayed, and waited,

Slowly, the prince awoke. There was a blankness in the warm gold, uncomprehending to both his situation and where he was. Then, in real time, Aang watched as the events leading up to now caught up with Zuko. 

He thanked him for the rescue, and mentioned his old Fire Nation friend. He asked if they could’ve been the same under different circumstances. He watched as sharpened teeth grit, and dodged the flame that came his way in response.

Zuko felt an almost sick sense of vindication when the woman on the shirshu dug the stowaway out of their stores and dropped him unceremoniously on the deck for all to see. For a few days now he could smell something off, something unfamiliar, and whenever he had asked his Uncle or his crew they had all either sniffed themselves or assured him that he didn’t stink, much to his embarrassment He could tell, now, the scent came from this man, too earthy to belong to his crew, entwined with dry tea and rice. They all watched as the woman tied up the paralyzed man, seemingly unconcerned about the ruined state of the hull her beast had wrought around her.

“How did you find him?” Zuko asked, still a little bewildered by the events that seemed to have happened in a moment. 

“My shirshu can track a scent from a continent away.” The woman patted the flank of her companion before mounting and running off, stowaway in tow. Uncle stroked his beard, impressed, as they watched the bounty hunter disappear past the port. They stopped looking after hearing Hakado’s wailing, turning to see the man kneeling in front of the gaping hole with his not-apprentice awkwardly patting his back in comfort. 

“How are we on funds, Lieutenant?” Iroh asked the man coming up to them.

He replied, “They are the same as ever, General.”
“I see! Then I suggest we go and ask that nice lady’s employer for a recompense.” Iroh clapped his hands, eyes curving in an uncharacteristic glee. Zuko snorted and looked back at the port, trying to tune out the ever-increasing volume of the crying. 

“I have a better idea.”

They found her in a bar, throwing strongmen out windows with nothing but teeth flashed behind painted lips and a hearty pull from her draught. 

She reminded Zuko a little too much of his sister. 

They bartered for her help in front of the shirshu napping out front, promising gold they didn’t have in exchange for Nyla’s nose. The beast was restless the whole time, fur bristled and star-nose wrinkled at the two firebenders. 

“Weird,” the woman, June, finally decided to say, informing the two that this was in fact not normal behavior, “you two been hanging out with sea wyverns or something?” 

His uncle laughed, “I would think if we had there would be a collective four arms between the three of us.” June shrugged, then snatched the Water Tribe girl’s pendant and shoved it in Nyla’s face, the shirshu forgetting its worries in favor of salivating once it caught the trail. Then she swung on and motioned for the others to join. 

“Let’s go, get on.” Uncle mounted the beast with an ease that belied his age, more than happy to place himself behind the bounty hunter. When it was Zuko’s turn, however, Nyla flinched, spinning around and snapping at him. Without thinking, he clicked his own teeth at her in retaliation, flame peeking out between the gaps. 

“Hey! Don’t go burning my partner. Come on, lover boy.” June brought her mount to heel, forcing the shirshu to ignore Zuko. He tried again, more successful this time, and they were off.

They found the two Water Tribe on their own, no Avatar in sight, the boy shielding the other protectively. They tried to make a break for it, but none could predict the speed of the shirshu’s tongue. They had split with the airbender, for some reason, but luckily they had something that held his scent. The two Water Tribe, situated on their stomachs braced only by Zuko’s hand, complained loudly and without pause the entire ride. 

“Could you maybe cut your nails once in a while, dude? You’re going to turn my back into a skewer.”

“Good.” Zuko replied, choosing to ignore the slight blush that trailed up his neck. He didn’t want to think about it, but it was true that they were getting harder and harder to pummel lately. June glances at his other hand over her shoulder, raises her brows, then turns back. 

(Later, she would ask what kind of paint he used to bind so well to his nails. The conversation was as confusing as it was short, since his Uncle chose to whisk him away to their ship in hopes that she would forget about the hefty award she was promised.)

They burst into an abbey, and the sight of a bunch of terrified old women running off churns something in his core, but Zuko chooses to ignore it in favor of the bald child swooping in on his glider, teasing the shirshu and causing it to topple, its riders falling with it. Zuko gets up with a shake and a glare at the airbender, and the fight begins. 

They shoot flame and air at each other, both dodging and weaving and kicking and striking until they finally collide in a way that causes a large explosion, shooting them both back. Zuko lands harshly on the roof tiles, head smacking sharply against the clay while the force of the impact kicks the air out of his lungs. He lies there, winded, before the sounds of battle reach his ear and he remembers where he is. He scrambles up, looking across the way to see the Avatar motionless, and doesn’t waste any more time before running across the roof towards him, two fingers pointed and flames sharpened to white hot daggers ready to strike. 

The Avatar gains coherence moments before he strikes, because of course he does, and Zuko is starting to get the feeling that the world really doesn’t want him to go home. Their fight begins anew, the bald boy floating over and around him, just out of reach of his flames. The tactic infuriated Zuko, the way a deer-lion might finally have enough of a mosquito-fly, but while powerful, this strength comes at the cost of speed. Everything has a price.

..Zuko might be hanging out with his Uncle too much.

He roars in frustration, voice echoing down below, the shirshu hissing and the flying bison only stopping momentarily before the animals continue their own brawl.

The Avatar summons a strong gale to pin Zuko to a tower, and then, almost as if to mock him, executes the same move he did when running towards his prone body, replacing flame with a swirling gale at his fingertips. It stung his pride more than getting blown back so many times. This meant the Avatar was watching him, learning how he fought, proving he was better than him and that he could master it much sooner and it’s so easy Zuzu, no wonder Father won’t even look at you-

Zuko chose to not look into that train of thought. Instead he got blasted, again , to the abbey floor. While he was winded, the nearby bison seemed to take great offense that the bounty hunter decided to go after his charge, and decided to do something about it. The beast turned around, waving its great tail before sending a sharp wave of air at the attackers. Zuko could almost hear the beast, its lowing translating to something akin to ‘Pick on someone your own size!’

He finally rose agan, huffing and blasting himself at the Avatar again, undeterred. They circled each other, separated only by a lone well, blasting and dodging through its gaps. The Avatar spots something, then, and furrows his brow, before deciding to just leap through the well towards Zuko. He dodged near ridiculously in response to answering flame, crawling around the well interior like a bright orange fruit bat-squirrel. Zuko’s already worn patience snapped and he kicked the support beams altogether in a vain hope that broad attacks had a better chance. He was proven wrong, again, and the two danced on the bare well. The boy snatched the necklace wrapped around Zuko’s wrist, then dived into the well. Zuko responded by throwing fire down with him, and stood there near dumbly as a rush of water shot up, taking him along with the ride. He fell down hard, teeth clacking, and blood spurting down his nose in a way that told him it might be broken. He punched the ground and rushed for the boy, only to be blocked by his bison. The beast growled a warning, ‘ Don’t test me’ , and he responded with his own, telling it to back off, tongue flicking over teeth at the threat and lip curled. Before the bison could respond, June whipped it with her shirshu, drawing its attention. He starts forward again, but is stopped with the overwhelming pungency of perfume invading his senses. It caused him to stumble, hand covering his mouth and nose, and head swimming and pounding, making it hard to think, hard to focus. Clearly, he wasn’t the only one, for the shirshu was having an even rougher time, swaying and whipping its tongue out wildly. It hit its owner, and then Zuko himself, leaving the three (when did Uncle get hit?) to lie there and watch their targets escape for the nth time. Watching the bison become a speck, a small, tiny part of Zuko thought that the whole thing was beginning to feel a bit monotonous.

Jee had honestly never considered the possibility that he would be transferred off the exiled Prince’s carrier. He had just grown too used to the way her hull creaked, the blush of rust that dusted her stubbornly despite everyone’s best efforts. The crew he had come to know like family (not that he would ever say that out loud) was lined in a row with him, all watching Admiral Zhao with wary eyes. Some might be worried about him, but Jee would bet 3 silver pieces they were all more worried about how the Prince would act out in vengeance. 

Because right now he was the calmest any of them had ever seen him. He stood on the opposite side of the deck, only a few lengths away, gazing at his crew while a man who hated his guts assigned them all different roles with a sickening glee. They all had lived with the boy for years now, however, and they all knew that for all his shouting and huffing and stomping, Zuko was rarely ever mad enough to show no emotion. But, well, he was still young after all. For all the Dragon of the West tried to teach him about politics, about never letting the opponent know what you were thinking, (he had hosted many of his pai sho games in the command room, spewing proverbs that were ingrained in Jee’s brain against his will) he still hadn’t gotten the hang of making sure his eyes never told anything either. Not that Jee would prefer it any other way, it was honestly a breath of fresh air to have a Fire Nation royal who wasn’t born with the ability to lie through smiling teeth. Now, the Prince’s eyes were flaming, molten gold intense in a predatory way, pupils dilating into slits whenever they flickered to the pacing Admiral. Steam thin enough to be invisible spilled from his nostrils, and he just knew that the boy was tearing his vambraces into ribbons with how tightly he must be gripping them behind his back.

The crew, they that already knew, they that just wanted the kid to feel some semblance of normality sometimes, did not bring attention to this. Zhao finally got to Jee, situated near the end, and looked down his nose at him (he felt he much preferred being looked up to, whether in annoyance or admiration, and this is something he would probably not let himself think after this revelation) and uttered his new position. 

Jee, somehow, felt like he had been demoted. 

They all unboarded in single file, orderly fashion, Hakado the only one sentimental enough to look back at the two royals they were leaving behind. Rai and Aido had grim lines set upon their lips, brows furrowed. The helmsman looked like he was going to cry. When they got far enough away, Jee heard the unmistakable sound of metal rail warping under the palm of their youngest passenger. He felt a sickness pooling in the bottom of his stomach, but grit his teeth and ignored it, staring in front and taking the unexpected turn in his life one step at a time. 

Zhao, in some weird self-assured token of appreciation, allowed them a night to rest at port before they all set sail for the North. They all stuck together out of habit, choosing to erase melancholy with pints, and the few stragglers who came in late mentioned seeing the retired General walking along the docks. That the Prince wasn’t with him was left unsaid. They all drank till La was high in the sky, the benders in the crew feeling weaker than ever, all of them starting to get rowdy and annoying, if the barman’s continuously twitching mustache was anything to go by. 

“Everyone!” That was Kai, he always was a lightweight, “I think we should, we-we should toast!” 

“To what, boy?” Himiko shouted back in reply, chortling. Kai slammed his foot on the table and lifted his mug. 

“T’ha Prince of course! What a fucked up life he’s had! Growing up with those rabbit-geese nobles and then sticking it with us losers!” He paused to belch and then continued, roused by the agreeing shouts of the more drunken patrons, even those who weren’t part of the crew. “A’ o’ course his weird ass bl’dline!  Like, what?! Fuck that!” He raised his mug, and the rest followed with a chorus of ‘fuck that!’ and cheers. Jee rubbed at his brow, and then his lip, hiding the growing smile on his face. 

“I’m gonna miss that firecracker, now that he’s here I’m gonna say it, Zuko was the little brother I never wanted! T’the little Prince!” 

“The little Prince!”

“Hope he keeps out of trouble!” 

“Now that’s asking for too much, man!”

“Guys, Hakado passed out!”

Jee turned back to his drink, staring at the remaining dredges of warm amber liquor until it was replaced with a fresh one. He glanced at the barman stationed in front of him, then said, “Hope my boys aren’t too much of a bother.” 

The man shook his head, busying himself with polishing an already crystal clear glass, “Wouldn’t be the first time I had this much navy at one time. Some Southerners came by a few days ago and two of them broke a table arm wrestling anyone they could bet money off of. Wouldn’t leave until they puked all over each other and then me.”

Jee tried to think of a response for that, finally settling with “That’s rough, buddy.”

The merry atmosphere continued to swell, everyone trying to make light of this fate none of them wanted, spending one last time with each other in the vain hope they wouldn’t all be shipped off to different corners of the world, never to see each other again. It was blue-tinged, but Jee still felt a hollow warmth in his chest. 

The jolly mood was cut sharply after a deafening boom rattled the establishment, coming from the direction of the port.

Seeing the ship explode punched Iroh in the gut in a way that could only be surpassed by the time he learned of his son’s passing. He had hurried with all his might back to the dock, hoping, praying to the Spirits that there was a chance, but the visual of the wall of flame quickly dashed his thoughts. He sank to his knees in grief, hands covering his face, and didn’t notice those that used to sail with him arrive in time to hear the piercing cry of an old dragon mourning.

But then, Agni praised, by some miracle, his boy had survived. Battered, bruised, and close enough to death to be comfortable, but he was alive , and it took everything in Iroh’s bones to not just pick his nephew up and tuck him under his arm and get him away from all this. But he had a mission to do, while Zuko had his own, so instead he carried him inland and tended to his wounds enough for the prince to regain consciousness and tell him about the pirates who had planted the bombs.

“Zhao, then, I would suspect.” Iroh mused, thoughtful, staring down into his tea. The other cup remained untouched. 

“He’s leaving for the North Pole in a few days, right? Where the Avatar is?”

“Prince Zuko! You cannot still be thinking of going after the boy after nearly succumbing to Koh yourself.” Iroh admonished, and his bristle-boar nephew would have none of it.

FInally, he relented, telling Zuko of his original plan to join Zhao in order to keep an eye on him, to make sure he didn’t do anything incredibly stupid. Now it would seem he would need to keep an eye on both the overeager general and the overeager teenager seated across from him.

“Now, remember your breathing. It is the only thing that will keep you from freezing to death out there.” Uncle nattered on, passing on supplies for Zuko to store in the kayak he was about to sail out on in hopes of getting to the Avatar before Zhao. 

“I know, Uncle. I’ve been practicing.”

“And whatever you do, don’t fall asleep if you aren’t in shelter! Our kind is defenseless when it comes to these flurries.

“I know, I’ll be careful.” Zuko tried to hold off on snapping at the coddling, he already knew firebenders weren’t good with polar ice, he already had experience with the sleep-sickness.

(He didn’t notice, and Iroh didn’t care the mention, that none of the other crew had these problems.)

He was lowering the boat while his Uncle shouted more about keeping warm, worry coating his tongue.

“I’ll be fine!” Zuko shouted one last time, and then went off towards the outer wall of the icy city. He docked on the surrounding ice drifts, observing the Northern Tribesmen patrolling the walls, and was about to duck around to see if there were any blind spots when the barking of turtle seals stole his attention. He watched them leap into a gap in the ice, and an idea formed.

They had to come up for air at some point.

Without thinking about it further, he took a deep breath and dove in.

The water nearly shocked him into stasis with its chill, ice flowing into his bloodstream without remorse and going straight for his core. Hastily, he curled up around his inner fire, and pushed on, fighting both the numbing of his limbs and the rapidly increasing heaviness of his eyes. He followed the turtle seals in almost a trance, the air in his lungs getting smaller and smaller until he was sure he could no longer hang on. Until, finally, a breach to the surface, the action he made to make it to land so violent he launched himself onto the ice. Zuko laid there, shivering, teeth clacking against each other, and let loose a few flames from his tongue in order to heat himself up from the inside out. Once he got his bearings, he pushed through the loudly lowing turtle seals and found a large pipe that led upwards, gushing out water. Gritting his teeth, he took another breath and then climbed into the pipe, fighting the flow with all he had as he scaled the interior. Panic almost completely wiped away the sleepiness in his mind once he was launched by the flow he passed straight into an air pocket, but he took in all the air he could and scanned the cave until he saw another path. The path led to a layer of ice, thin enough to have sunlight filter through, but thick enough that Zuko would need to heat his hands to bubbling temperatures. The combined feeling of stove-hot hands and frigid waters caused his body to lock up with pain, but Zuko pushed through until finally, finally, he was in the city. He collapsed on the floor, panting, eyes heavy with fatigue, his whole body screaming at him that that was the stupidest idea he had ever had, and succumbed to the pull of sleep.

He awoke an hour later to the sound of sword sharpening against granite, the thrum of battle preparation heavy in the air, and knew it was time to move, and move fast. He caught a scent, one of animal musk and berries, one that had belonged to the lemur, and followed it. Soon enough he was in a hidden oasis, and soon enough he was frozen by the waterbender that followed the Avatar, completely forgetting about the moon and what that entailed. But she could not hold him forever, and soon enough the fire running through his blood and over his bones sung with the rise of the sun, and he was free, and he had the Avatar in his grasp.

The kid was unconscious, in some kind of state, but that only made it easier for Zuko to lug him through a snowstorm and tie him up so he couldn’t escape. He built a small fire to keep warm while he waited out the storm, and in this little cave, with his own worst enemy, he waited.

(And he might have bared his soul a little while he waited, but the storm didn’t look like it was stopping any time soon.)

Then the Avatar glowed brighter than ever, and then dulled, and he was stuck staring at steel gray eyes glaring at him. And then he threw him against a wall with air. Again.

Thoroughly having enough at this point, and just wanting things to be over and done with , Zuko scruffed the boy by his shirt with a hiss and started dragging him back to the cave.

Until, of course, the universe decided to fuck him over one last time. 

He felt more than saw the sky bison, and then he was hit with ice, flame doused before he really had a chance, and then he was dropped, and he could remember no more.

When he came to, the moon was gone.

Uncle was furious.

Zuko used the distraction to saw through the ropes, wondering how on earth they thought such thin things could hold anyone; are they blind? Don’t they have nails too? But it didn’t matter, he was free and he was out of there, just in time to watch in horror as his people got washed to sea by a giant floating ocean spirit. He swallowed, bile rising in his throat, and then he spotted Zhao, the cause of this whole thing, running away. Suddenly, a fury of his own welled up. He spent all this time raving and ranting about how he was going to break down the Northern Water Tribe, and now that he’s done it, he runs away? There was a dark, acrid taste on the back of Zuko’s tongue. How dare this man put his people in danger, try to kill him, murdered their own God’s sister, just for glory that was too heavy for him to hold the shadow of. He launched flame in front of the traitor , stopping him in his path, and leapt down onto the scaffolding, a growl rumbling in his throat and hands digging into the ice and flame licking his teeth and everything the Fire Lord was scared he would become happening at once. He felt his heart beat a strong rhythm, chi swirling from the top of his head down to his fingertips, and chased the rat-viper who thought he was too big for the world order.  

He calls Zuko a traitor, as if he was looking into a mirror, as if to make Zuko angrier. His teeth hurt, they ache, they want to sink themselves into Zhao’s jugular and never let go, dripping his blood into the sea in hopes that that will convince Tui to stop killing his people. He shoots fire from his palms, cornering the man, making him frazzled, and spew flame from his throat, close enough that he could smell the rancid odor of burnt hair. Zhao fights back, aggressive in his panic and fear, and doesn’t even notice the moon had returned until he was on his back with claws sinking slowly into his neck and glimmer-bright eyes staring down at him with pupils near slit.

“Wh-” he gasps, gaze flickering between the two scenes, “why is the moon back? What are you?!”  

Zuko just opened his jaw and leaned down.

He doesn’t get to deliver the final blow, though, before a wave of Spirit-blue ocean rises over the two of them. He has just enough time to roll out of the way before it crashes down, sweeping Zhao along with it. Once the man is gone from sight, Zuko collapses where he sits, breathing heavily, staring at his hands and watching the moon reflect off the speckles of blood that coat his nail beds. Uncle finds him like this, later, shaking him gently yet quickly and ushering him onto a raft the man had found, the vessel hastily made but something they would have to use now that they were probably the only firebenders left in the city. His uncle busies himself with the sail, whistling a tune before looking over his shoulder at Zuko.

“I’m surprised, Prince Zuko, that you are not going after the Avatar right now.”

Zuko stared off out at the sea, at the slowly receding ice shore, where turtle seals dotted the banks in a dark blurry gray. His eyes burned from the salt water, his muscles screamed at him. His teeth ached.

Chapter Text

Ever since she was old enough to bend her first flame, Azula knew she was special. 

She was the brightest, the bravest, the best daughter in the world, and she was reminded of it every time she looked into her Father’s eyes. 

(Not Mother’s, unfortunately. The woman couldn’t see past the bloody red deeds she doused herself in so that one day she could flip it into golden greatness.

Loathe as she was to recall, when she was younger she would spend a great deal of time showing off to her older brother, living for his smiles and the pat on the head she would receive. Thankfully, as she grew older she realized she was vying for the attention of the wrong prince, and started clinging to Father instead, who by a stroke of luck turned himself into the Fire Lord. A much better prize than the boy with a heart made of turtle-duck down. 

Father would tell her things about their family, about how they were all born as terrible, wonderful beings. About how they were superior to all others, even full-blooded dragons.

“We have the hearts of dragons and the fire of men.” he would say, stroking her hair in a way that sometimes reminded her of a red-bellied orb scorpion wrapping an ant-fly caught in its web with gentle, fleeting motions, long limbs promising an eternal rest. She looked forward to those rare moments of affection, after convincing herself for hours in the middle of the night with a silk pillow wedged under her chin that those moments were the only way Father knew how to show love. It was better than anything he ever did for poor Zuzu anyway. 

He had never noticed, the scatterbrain, or no one bothered to tell him. About how Uncle could breathe flame, about how Grandfather could make a tiger-horse keel over with just a piercing glare, how Father could crush stone with his bare hands, how his canines glinted in the throne room a little too brightly. 

Azula couldn’t wait for when she would grow into her gift. It varied with everyone in the royal family, but because she was obviously Agni’s Chosen, she would have the strongest inheritance out of all of them. She couldn’t wait to catch her silly older brother, fangless and clawless as he probably was, and show off her superior everything to him and watch him fall to his knees, kowtowing in her glorious shadow, and beg her to ask Father to take him back. She would agree, of course, if she was in a good mood, and things could finally go back to the way they were supposed to. 

Her and Father bonding over taking over the world and hating Zuko, poor Zuzu sitting all alone with his turtle-ducks, nursing loose milk teeth after she played with him, while she had her trusted retainers Mai and Ty Lee loyally at her sides, ready to take on anything together.

A few days before she had set out to look for the two traitors of the royal family, she had spat out a tooth during dinner. Father, after a moment, was pleased, happy to tell her that she was blossoming early once again, and soon would have all the tools necessary to get anything she desired. Her eyes had flickered to the crown after hearing that, sitting innocently in her Father’s obsidian locks, and then went back down only to be caught in his own gaze, eyes freezing cold for half a heartbeat before they crinkled as he began to laugh. 

She laughed with him, pretending her fists weren’t clenched under the table cloth, pinpricks of pain sprouting from the meat of her thumb thanks to her sharpened manicure.

Now she was on a ship, her ship, splitting through waves in a way that should’ve been expected instead of praised, and with no small glee in her heart did she hiss at the captain of the vessel that instead of listening to the filthy tides, he should consider instead the more immediate threat wrapped tightly in reds and blacks and gold and armor that she could pretend was her own hide.

She would further cement herself as the most dangerous thing in miles by working on mastering her lightning, the fracturing of the air leaving behind the heavy plasma smell of storm and death. It was exhilarating as much as it was exhausting, but Azula had been determined to add this notch in her belt. Her fire was already blue, why not make it a different shape as well?

She could admit, once in a while, that sometimes she had faults.

Zuzu looked different than what she was expecting.

Watching him arguing with Uncle, neither of them noticing her sneaking in and taking a seat to watch the two’s comedic back-and-forth (and seriously, do they not have any self-preservation skills?), she took a moment to assess her target.

He had gotten taller, certainly, but that was expected, as it had been after years since she watched him ushered out of the arena clinging to life. Her older brother looked scrawny in the robe he was provided, no padded shoulder guards to give him false maturity. She had also heard from her sources that her brother and uncle were nearly claimed by the sea, not eating anything but fish stupid enough to fall into their hands for three weeks. Laughable that he even got in that situation, but she didn’t doubt his ability to survive most anything like a roach-rat.

What was less amusing were his new attachments. His hands now resembled their father’s, and with every snarl to Uncle she saw just the tiniest peek of fang.

Looks like the boy lucked out for once.

Azula finally got bored and announced her presence, making the two whip around. She fed them apple-honey sweet words, about how Father missed his family and was finally willing to waive off the banishment so his precious son could come home to him. Zuko fell for it hook line and sinker, because of course he did, but Uncle was understandably more skeptical.

Azula focused all her efforts on her brother though, because if there’s one thing she’s certain about when it comes to Uncle, it’s that he will follow Zuko to the ends of the Earth.

Zuko could hardly believe it, but it seemed like his luck was finally taking a turn.

“I can’t believe Father wants us back!”

His heart was singing with joy just saying it, and he busied himself with packing the meager belongings the abbey that rescued them had provided. By the window, Uncle stood silent and still like a statue. There was an aura of unease that oozed from the older man, as noticeable as the furrow in his brow and the perfumed oil that clung to his skin after the pampering. Zuko knew why; Uncle never trusted Azula, and he trusted his brother even less. 

He soon tells Zuko as much, warning how things are not always what they seem. The younger snaps in response, words fueled by hate and a bone-deep fatigue that he can’t shake from his body. They don’t speak for the rest of the night, and the next day while Uncle is busy chatting with a woman of the abbey, Zuko takes his things and leaves.

There’s a sour taste in his mouth as he descends the hill towards the harbor, one that evaporates instantly once he hears a ‘wait!’ from behind and sees his Uncle hastily dressed and hurrying down the steps with one hand raised. Zuko feels a little lighter at the sight.

“Family sticks together, right?” Uncle rested a warm palm on Zuko’s shoulder, reminding him of better times, and he allowed himself to smile. 

They descend together this time, Zuko near buzzing with nerves and Uncle quiet the whole way. They are soon greeted with an entourage of guards waiting for them, Azula standing at the top of the gangplank with a focused gaze, watching as they come closer. Zuk tried to ignore the feeling of eyes on him as they passed the platoon of emotionless soldiers, stopping just short of boarding to greet his sister.

She welcomed them warmly, something she had never done before, and as she grinned Zuko thought he imagined her teeth looking just a bit sharper.

Maybe she was finally going through her embarrassing phase. With how perfect she is, he half expected Azula to skip from being a kid straight to a mature adult.

“Are we ready then. Captain?” she asked with a bright grin, turning her attention to the man off to the side of the plank. He nods, then begins shouting orders.

“We’re taking the prisoners home!”

Zuko almost didn’t register it, embarrassingly enough. He kept walking, and then he stood there in a stunned kind of silence as the Captain stammered in fear towards his sister, who was going from surprised to livid.

Then Uncle was fighting behind him, and the soldiers were rushing them, and Zuko couldn’t think outside of tossing the man who was in the way off the walk into the ocean below and snarling at his sister.

“You liar!” he hissed.

 She smirked in response, “Like I’ve never done that before.” and walked off, waving her men to attack. 

But they were weak, and he was furious, so they fell to the side like wet paper as he pursued his sister.

Ignoring his Uncle’s shout to retreat, he summoned his flames, compressing them to a steady stream reminiscent of daggers, and lunged at Azula. But, well, she was favored for a reason. 

Every step he took towards her, she danced away, just out of reach, before darting back in to deliver a blow of her own, with both flame and tongue. 

“Come now, Zuzu, you aren’t even fighting right! Here, let me show you!” and with that, quick as a mouse-viper, she scratched her too sharp nails above his brow, causing him to flinch and the blood to swell.

He winced as the blood dripped into his eye, and continued to advance. Azula grabbed his wrist, and the only warning he got was a slight widening of her smirk before blue fire was launched under his chin. He barely leaned back in time, wrenching free (or perhaps she just let him go, unwilling to stop the game so soon), and rolling back a few feet before collapsing on the floor.

He looked up to see his little sister point lightning directly at him.

Iroh always tried to look on the bright side of things.

He was a little tired of being a great and powerful General feared by all, especially after his son had passed. Lu Ten’s death made him realize he wasn’t grand enough for fate to turn the other cheek in his favor, and so he stripped away his armor for a teapot and a pai sho table instead.

Walking through the forest, keeping their heads low in case Azula and her platoon had caught a whiff of them, was not a very pleasant experience after doing it for a few weeks.

They were low on food, constantly, one too old and the other too impatient to be successful hunters. Dirt streaked their faces, and the sun, blessed be, had given Iroh a lovely shade of red on the top of his newly shorn head. His nephew wasn’t as forgiving for the abrupt lifestyle change, though it was to be expected, he supposed. 

Though it was tiny and rusted, their ship had a roof, company, and water . Out here, they had to be careful of anything and everything they thought of consuming. Before, Zuko also had a faint hope of going back home. Out here, with his phoenix tale downstream and their own countrymen rallying for their deaths, Iroh could imagine it being difficult to stay positive. 

The boy was still growing into his gift, to add to the stress. Each new addition he woke up with made Iroh’s brows rise just the smallest bit further. Most of the royal family would only inherit two or three traits, not enough to become inhuman. The most Iroh had heard of before now was of his great Aunt who obtained a whopping four gifts. He never met the woman, but records had stated that it was near impossible to be near her. Zuko had been a late bloomer, yes, and he supposed it made sense that all these things coming up one after another would be a result of that, but sometimes there was such a thing as too much change. 

The boy was stumbling out of a bush, cursing under his breath, swatting at the leaves that clung to his now fuzzy scalp (and if Iroh had taken a few chances to pet the new locks before his nephew woke, that was between him and La). Iroh was looking intently at a flower, racking his brain trying to remember if it was a White Dragon Bush or White Jade Bush. Zuko admonished him, which he easily tuned out, then announced he was going fishing. If memories of their old crew’s failed attempts at teaching the prince how to catch a fish were anything to go by, they probably would not have any dinner tonight. Again.

It was the White Jade Bush.

The itchiness was very unbearable, and Zuko had refused to let him see if the berries he found were actually the cure or not, for some reason (“They aren’t!” He had shouted, “Can’t you smell it?”). They decided to take their chances with the Earth Kingdom to see if an apothecary could donate a solvent. Reaching the nearest town, their luck seemed to finally turn around after finding a full-stocked clinic willing to take a look. 

The lovely woman began spreading a salve on Iroh’s inflamed skin, and inquired where they were traveling.

Zuko, bless his heart, could not tell a white lie to save his life.

“I’m Lee, and this is my Uncle…Mushi.”

This is what Iroh gets for gambling on brightly colored flora.

An old dragon like him wouldn’t take a hatchling's gnawing lying down, however.

“Lee’s named after his father, so we just call him Junior.” Iroh chimed in, grinning wickedly at his panicking nephew when she turned to him.

The nice girl, Song offers her abode for reprieve, and Zuko looks away with a blush staining his pale face and a curt refusal. The mention of roast duck however leaves Iroh with no choice but to exercise his Uncle Authority. So they eat their first real meal in weeks, then his nephew and that nice girl have a chat outside, much to Iroh’s glee. He wasn’t sure how well it went, but judging by how Zuko stole their ostrich-horse right after, he would wager a guess not very well.

Zuko was sick and tired of begging. Of the upturned noses, the selfish men who forced his Uncle to dance and sing for coin. 

So he took matters into his own hands.

He had found a Blue Spirit mask for sale while they breezed through a market, and put it in his bag with a quick sleight-of-hand. Later, after telling his Uncle he would try fishing again, he donned it. The wood wasn’t the same, too new, not worn from use, but it helped put him in the right headspace. 

Then he went to steal. 

It was necessary, he kept telling himself. They will die otherwise. Even though just the thought of doing something so lowly, so against his naturally prideful self, caused his guts to writhe and turn, he gritted his teeth and pilfered from those who also needed it.

Uncle raised a brow every time he brought spoils back, but did not comment on it. Not until the cave was stuffed full of trinkets and baubles that Zuko thought nothing of as he sank deeper and deeper into his own swirling thoughts about their future. He hoped these shiny things might remind him of his life back at Caldera, but they did nothing but reflect his dirty face back at him. Uncle, finally, asked where he was getting these things from.

Zuko said nothing, only watched as his Uncle sighed and came around the fire to sit by him. He began doling out his sage advice, about how poverty is a blessing in disguise. Like there was no longer any honor between the two of them. 

“There’s no hope, Uncle.” he muttered under his breath, wrapping his arms around his legs, and only startled slightly as the older man grabbed him by the shoulder with a rare moment of urgency, voice authoritative. 

“You must never lose hope, Prince Zuko! Hope is the only thing left, before you surrender to your lowest instincts. Listen to me, you must not lose yourself, promise me this.”

Zuko looked at him, then in a split decision, pushed his uncle away and rose, walking off to collect his thoughts, as slow and bogged down as they had become.

Once he was far enough away, he took a seat at the base of a tree and took a deep breath, flame gently touching his lip. He clenched his fists, then winced before letting go and looking down. His nails had drawn blood, the very tips painted red in a way that reminded him of the last time he had seen Zhao. He flexed his fingers a bit, and noted absently that he couldn’t sand them anymore. They would grow out, in a way that would let everyone know of his immaturity, how easy of a target he was. 

Zuko’s face crumpled, out of sadness or anger he couldn’t tell, and he instead began tearing at the grass under him to vent his frustrations, tongue scaling itself over teeth that felt bigger and bigger every day. He remembered, now, that Father had teeth like this. No wonder he always had such a short temper, it was getting harder and harder to not just clasp onto anything and not let go. He felt like he was going to lose his mind at this rate. 

He needed to leave, Zuko came to the conclusion. After throwing the option of capturing the Avatar out the window, along with his increasing ailments, he had to separate himself from his uncle so he could stop weighing the man down. Mind made up, Zuko allowed himself time to sit under the moon’s glow, just a little longer.

He didn’t have a real goal in mind, aside from keep moving forward . 

The ostrich-horse had been a surprise, he was planning to leave it with Uncle. But the man had insisted, and Zuko didn’t want to linger in case he changed his mind about leaving. So he took it, and they rode all through the night.

Food was becoming a problem.

He passed by less people the closer to the desert he went, and when he did the tightness low in his belly became stronger and stronger until he could no longer stomach the thought. His companion had a little more luck, pecking at grass and foliage for seeds and berries. Zuko could last quite a while without food, had been able to since he was a child, back when Mother was gone and sometimes Father would forget to send a servant to escort him to dinner and he would just sit in his room afraid that if he left to sneak into the kitchens for a snack he would be caught by a loose-tongued maid, or worse, Azula . He was still used to it back on the ship, when rations were often tight and he would forfeit his dinner so a soldier could eat instead. He could go for weeks.

But it had been weeks.

Now, he felt like he was falling off the deep end. His mind was in a haze, vision glazed over, slouched on his mount, trusting it to follow the road as he dealt with visions of his mother leaving and his uncle looking at him with disappointment and his father’s terrifying laughter. The few times they stopped for water he drank enough for his stomach to burst and took a long nap to try to negate the feeling of hunger gnawing on his jaw, making him nauseous. 

The sun helped too, a bit. Taking a nap in Agni’s gaze refueled his inner fire and gave him just enough strength to not just keep lying there for the rest of his life. 

Zuko felt as if part of himself was slipping, and what stayed was something that had grown without him noticing, big and menacing and waiting for a chance to take him down. At times, in the middle of the night, he would wake with dirt under his nails and deep gouges in the soil and the ostrich-horse further away than when it was when he went to sleep, staring at him with wary eyes.

Once, when they had stopped at a stream, Zuko had heard a sound that made his head shoot up with a quickness he hadn’t had in days. He narrowed in on the source immediately, a badger-fox had emerged from the underbrush to take a drink further upstream. It hadn’t noticed them, and it looked plump, rich and full of vitality.

Zuko felt his mouth watering. Felt the warmth of his mind going silent. 

He ignored the soft stomp that his ostrich-horse gave, and crouched down, as low to the ground as he could manage while crawling further up the riverbed, one hand in front of the other, curling into the soft earth before pulling the rest of his body up, letting him slink without sound, steps starting at the toe tip before rolling onto the ball, following the movement of his shoulders.

He stopped when the badger-fox twitched an ear, going still, goldenfire in his eyes disappearing to make room for the widening of his pupils, and then kept going after a beat. 

He climbed a nearby tree that hung over the stream, scaling the branches and twisting his body in a way that felt right, natural, something he was always meant to do. It was so close now, he could smell its musk, hear the heart beating under its rust-colored fur. He gathered his legs under him, and then leapt down.

He landed with hands snagged into both flanks, startling the creature enough to make it immediately fall on its back and start kicking out its hind legs. Ignoring its hissing and spitting, Zuko leaned down and finally finally sank his teeth into its thin neck, hearing it squeal and scratch his face in panic, fighting for its life now, like Zuko wasn’t doing the exact same thing.

He growled at the wounds and shook, then readjusted his grip and shook again, clenching tighter and tighter as his fangs grew redder and redder until finally the animal gave one last gasp and fell limp. 

He let go, stared at the badger-fox, licked his chaps. All that was going through the boy’s head was hunt and food and meat. He scanned his meal, and decided to start on the stomach. 

When Zuko came to, his face felt tacky and his nose stung with the scent of iron. He was by the river, further upstream from where he remembered being, and when he looked down, he fell back in surprise at the sight of red-stained bones piled on top and clinging to the remains of a pelt.  Shakily, he raised a hand to his cheek, drawing it back to see red staining his skin and nails down to his forearm. Giving the carcass a wide berth, he made for the stream to wash off the blood, only pausing when he saw his own reflection, his face in a similar state. Red smeared on his mouth and neck, like when he was a toddler who found his mother’s lipstick and drew all over himself, with scratches dotting the rest. 

The memories slowly trickled back in while he scrubbed furiously at his arms, then his throat. The shaking got worse, and his breathing got quicker and lighter, and he didn’t want to move his tongue because he was afraid there were still pieces of meat stuck between his teeth and he already felt like he was going to throw up.

A part of him felt a satisfaction like no other.

The boy came into town with a haze in his too-bright eyes and a stumbling ostrich-horse looking half-dead from exhaustion. He was gaunt, sickly, and slurred his words while asking Tzu for a bag of feed and a meal. The man felt a little bad telling him it wasn’t enough, so he threw in an extra bag. Then Lee and his friend threw an egg at the snickering guards across the street, and the feed was gone. Tzu watched as the boy clenched his teeth and turned back to his mount, ignoring Lee and swinging his leg over. But the boy insisted on an eye for an eye, and grasped the tired bird’s bridle to lead them to their animal-pig farm. Tzu clicked his tongue and called over a regular to tell her the news of a newcomer. 

Lee had never seen such a cool guy in his life.

His village was really quiet, being in the middle of the desert. They hardly got travelers, especially now that that bunch of “guards” were here to protect them from the Fire Nation. He knew firebenders were like the baddest guys in the world, but those soldiers sure took a close second. 

Everyone was afraid to stand up to them too, since they were all big and loud and could throw boulders with their minds. Anyone who tried was immediately threatened with prison time and crushed hands, which meant no more working, which meant no more food.

Lee was a kid though, and grown ups weren’t allowed to hurt kids like that, especially if he ran away fast enough. 

But the new guy didn’t run away. He stood his ground and glared at the earthbenders in a way that sent shivers down Lee’s spine, and he didn’t even get mad when they took his feed.

So as recompense, Lee took him and his ostrich-horse down to Pa’s farm. He hoped that maybe if he ate some of Ma’s sweet pork-hen rolls, he would loosen up enough to teach him how to be a hero, just like his older brother. The pale stranger gave every pig they passed a lingering look, and Pa scrutinized him in answer for that.

“You a friend of Lee’s?” he asked, hands on hips.

Lee went into full-blown storyteller mode, telling his Pa about how his new friend stood up against the guards and how cool he was and how he made them all run away with their tails between their legs just by looking at them. 

“Does he have a name?” Ma came up and asked, drying her hands with a towel.

The wanderer hesitated, and Pa swooped in to answer.

“He doesn’t have to tell us if he doesn’t want to, Sela.” Pa gently chided.

Ma invited him for dinner, but he declined, and Lee could feel his heart about to drop down to his feet in disappointment. Then Ma looked at him, then at Pa, then suggested they work on the roof and then come down to eat when it was time, and Lee felt his spirits rising again when the man agreed.

Wow, he was horrible at hammering nails. 

Lee rested his cheek on the ladder as he watched the man swing the mallet with both shaky hands and just barely hitting the nail down, making it bend at an angle. His Pa watched while he worked from the corner of his eye, unable to look away the longer it went on.

He asked all he wanted to know; where he was from, where he was going, what his name was, how he got that cool scar. That last one made the man slam his thumb, and Lee watched without guilt and a little surprise when the wanderer snarled at the pain and bared his wow those are sharp teeth at nothing. 

Pa scolded him, something he does every hour it seemed, and Ma called them all in for dinner, and Lee made sure the seat next to him was empty.

Lee honestly just wanted to look at his swords honestly, honest! He only got to see the hilt glinting in the sun when the stranger grasped it in warning when the guards approached. But then he snuck into the sunflower field and pulled it out and Wow! It was actually two swords! 

So he swung them around, trying to remember what kind of moves Sen Su would show him. While he was stabbing at a stump, a voice behind him made him shoot up in the air and fall right in the dirt.

“You’re holding them wrong.”

He thought the man would get mad, but instead he got a free sword lesson, and the wanderer showed him some of his own moves, and he reminded Lee of Sen Su so much he kind of hoped that he was willing to come back again so they could meet and become best friends and then he would have two older brothers that knew how to use swords to teach him.

Maybe if he asked reaaallll nice tomorrow.

The guards told them all Sen Su got captured. 

They laughed as they talked about how he was going to get dressed up in awful Fire Nation red and pushed out to the front lines where people will think he’s a bad guy even though he’s on their side, and Lee doesn’t know what to do because Sen Su was supposed to come home. 

Pa said he was going to go find him, and that made Ma cry for some reason, even though Pa was big and strong and invincible and nothing could happen to him. Maybe she was upset because she was worried there wouldn’t be any men left to do all the repairing and barn work.

Maybe his new friend could stay! But he said he had to leave, and shook his head when Lee asked, so now Lee doesn’t know what to do. But then the wanderer handed him a knife with a darkwood sheathe that was smooth to the touch, something nicer than he’d ever held, and told him to read the inscription.

“Never give up without a fight.”

They came back for rations the farm couldn’t give, and Lee pulled a knife on Gow.

They had all stared at the trembling pearl-knife in the air, the Gow and his thugs laughed angrily and hoisted Sela’s boy on the back of an ostrich-horse, leaving her son yelling at them to let him go and Sela screaming for them to stop taking her family.

She panicked, couldn’t think of anyone that wouldn’t look at her with guilt in their eyes when she asked for help, then remembered the direction the wanderer had left. 

Gasu had left their ostrich-horse tacked to the cart, so she leapt on and prayed to any Spirit who would listen that he hadn't gotten far.

She found him, eventually, lying back by the irrigation canal, and pleaded for his help, almost breaking down when he said yes. His mount was faster, it only had to hold his weight instead of a cart, so by the time she had gotten there, the boy was already facing off against Gow and his goons. She winded through the crowd of villagers to see what he was doing, and let out a gasp at the near inhuman quickness of his strikes. He disarmed one, then another, then broke a spear with nothing but his feet. She covered her mouth with a hand as the fight continued with Gow stepping up, teeth clenched and brow furrowed. He pulled out his two hammers and launched rock after rock at the boy. He held his own for a while, but the stone was too strong, and even the steel in his hands couldn’t slice through it. One well-timed jut of rock caused the wanderer to be thrown back, making Sela and the people around her draw in a breath through their teeth. 

She hoped he would get back up, get back up and save her son, save them .

He got back up, with flame dancing along his form.

Cold dread followed by a numbness filled Sela as she watched the wanderer, the firebender , begin to advance on Gow, throwing flame at the earthbender with his swords, the light of the fire casting harsh shadows on his face, making him look like a living nightmare. 

His eyes made more sense now.

Sela made a hornet-beeline for her son, untying him with shaking fingers and firmly placing him behind her, hearing Gow grunt with pain as rocks fell over him, rendering him immobile. 

The wanderer announced his name, his title, revealing he was the banished Crown Prince of the Fire Nation, their sworn enemies, the monsters who got them in this mess in the first place. 

If he was banished from such a place, there’s no telling how much danger Sela put her family in inviting the brute into her home. 

He wandered towards them, predator’s eyes on her son, and she tightened her hold on him.

“Not a step closer.” she warned, ready to fight like a beaver-bear if she had to.

The firebender paused, then kneeled down, taking something from his belt.

He held out a knife, saying it was Lee’s.

“No, I hate you.” her boy spat, and together they turned their backs on the man, leaving him in the dust.

FIgures Azula would get here first. 

The Avatar looked exhausted, bags under his eyes that reminded Zuko of his own. Azula looked like she wasn’t chasing a sky bison through the night, checking her nails even though Zuko held a hand out to her in warning.

“I was wondering when you’d show up, Zuzu.”

Zuko ignored the Avatar’s snicker (he’d bring it up later), and told her to back off.

“Or what? You’re gonna fight me?” his sister laughed meanly, grinning in a way that showed off two long, thin fangs, reminiscent of a venomous snake. Then she took her stance.

The three held still, all glancing at each other, a showdown in an abandoned town.

Zuko would not let Azula take this from him; the Avatar was the only ticket he had left to regain everything he cared about. He was sick and tired of his mind turning blank for long periods of time, just going through the motions of surviving. He hated how his ostrich-horse was scared of him now, the thing probably long gone in its haste to get away, sensing his growing animosity when he saw the two about to fight if its fear scent was anything to go by. 

Azula smirked a little deeper, then struck.

He tried to block flame with flame, but blue always did strike hotter. This paired with his long month of nearly dying meant Zuko wasn’t strong enough to stay on his feet after blocking the blast, getting thrown into the pillar behind him. He lay there, winded, rotted wood filling his nose, and vaguely heard the Avatar and his sister fighting.

He got back up on his feet and joined the fray.

It then became a dance of flame and gale. One moment he was trying to shoot down the Avatar, the next Azula. They all dodged and weaved and chased each other into buildings until Zuko fell two stories and then got thrown out the door thanks to his sister punching fire into his shoulder. The heat smoldered,  just enough to make him just lay there and get his bearings, when a large shadow blocked the sun, making the backs of his eyelids darken.

Zuko opened his eyes weakly, “Uncle?”

“Get up.” He ordered, then grasped the younger’s hand, heaving him upright. Zuko rubbed his head, vision spotty, and Uncle grabbed his jaw and looked into his eyes for a moment before letting go. 

“Your pupils are even, you can still fight.” With that he rose to his feet, bringing Zuko with him, and together they ran behind the buildings where the rest of the Avatar’s crew (and when had they showed up?) along with a little girl Zuko had never seen before were driving her.

Uncle slammed into Azula with his belly, forcing her into a corner of a crumbling wall, and they all slowly closed in on her.

Azula looked around, then sighed and raised her hands in the air.

“I know when I’m beaten. You got me. Princesses surrender with honor.” she hissed out.

Then after a beat, she smirked again, and Azula always lies , because instead of surrendering, she instead shoots out blue flames straight towards their Uncle.

The man takes the blast right where his heart is and Zuko can’t do anything but howl out a “NO!” and blast his baby sister in return. The rest of the party also do their part, but by then Azula is gone, and the damage has been done. 

Not giving a second glance to the others, Zuko spins on his heel and drops to his knees at his Uncle’s side, breathing heavy and hands fluttering over a smoking chest not knowing what to do. He bit his lip, not caring for the blood that ran down as a result, frustration and fatigue building up with no place to go. 

He felt more than heard the others inch closer, and whipped around, glaring at them over his shoulder, turning more to snap at the Avatar when he reached a hand out.

“Get out of here!” he snarled, top lip curled, crouched protectively in front of his wheezing Uncle.

“Zuko, please! I can help!” the waterbender stepped forward, hand on her waterskin, and all Zuko could see was a threat getting closer and closer to his closest family, like she was going to hurt them, like she was going to take his kin away just like how Father took Mother away, how earthbenders took Lu Ten away. 

He couldn’t talk anymore, roared out a warning, flame spewing from his throat and a loud static buzzing in his head. He shook it to make the noise stop, but all that seemed to do was make his rationality slip further and further away. 

There were spots in his vision, and he was hurt, and Uncle was hurt, and the enemy was in front of them. The older boy had stepped in front of his sister, boomerang in hand, while the Avatar looked at him in fear. The girl tried to step around her brother to reach the two again.

“Leave!” he tried saying, but only a hiss spewed forth, teeth snapping quickly together in warning. In the distance, he heard a faint lowing, telling him to stop threatening the people in front of him.

Before he could lunge at the group, a hand faintly grasped his pants.

“Prince Zuko.” Uncle whispered out, “come back, my boy. Come back to me.”

Clarity slammed back into him at fullforce, nearly making him double over.

“Uncle?” he looked at the older man who could barely keep his eyes open, holding onto him like he was afraid Zuko would disappear forever. 

“You’re alive..” the younger whispered before the fatigue washed over him and he fell sideways into the dirt.

Apparently the cool old man who served her tea had a really weird nephew.

“No wonder you wanted to keep an eye on him.” Toph muttered into her cup, listening to the buzzing of the others as they sat around the tiny campfire the old man made after Katara waterbended the life back into him. Beside him, on a borrowed sleeping bag, said weird nephew slept like a rock, heartbeat the quickest she’d ever heard.

Excluding when he was about to kill them all, of course.

“Ah, yes, well, Zuko has been going through a lot lately.” the man, Iroh, chuckled, then winced, probably gripping his shoulder in pain.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why was he growling at us? Because you know that’s not normal, right? Human beings growling at other human beings, I mean.” Sokka asked nonchalantly, the whizzing of metal in the air telling her that he was tossing Boomerang like a stone. 

“It is just a little family issue, don’t worry. I know how to deal with it.”

“Oh! Is it that dragon thing, Uncle?” Aang perked up, and hold on, when did he get Uncle rights? Toph also wanted Uncle rights.

“Yeah, Uncle, is it that dragon thing?” Toph asked like she knew what she was talking about. She felt the old man turn to her, “I’m a bit surprised you knew, young lady. Are you a noble too, perhaps?”

She flushed a little at that, because she is a noble, and she doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

“To answer, yes, it’s ‘the dragon thing’. The Fire Lord’s family has a very strong bloodline, you know.” 

“Okay, does that mean the FIre Lord is also going to have weird glowy eyes and fangs and hiss at my sister? Because it would be nice to be mentally prepared for that.” Sokka quipped.

“Ah, no. My brother does not have those things, except for the fangs.”

“Cool.” she heard him fall back into the dirt, and felt the entirety of his body pressed against the earth.

“Wait, roll it back, your weird nephew had fangs?”

Katara, already sensing the pause for a follow-up, stepped forward, “Toph-”

“Can I feel them?”

Iroh laughed again, “I’m sorry, Miss Toph, you might lose a finger or two if you catch my nephew unawares like that.”

Toph felt a grin split her face, “Awesome.”

Iroh declined their offer to travel with them, citing he wished to spend alone time with his nephew. He said he would meet with them at a later date, hopefully, in Ba Sing Se. Until then, here is where they would part.

“Good luck, Uncle.” Toph saluted the man before earthbending her way onto Appa’s saddle, truly blind as soon as her feet touched leather. Ugh, she still couldn’t get used to it.

Zuko woke slowly, feeling as if he had been asleep for a very long time. He was greeted to the sight of his Uncle brewing tea, one sleeve of his tunic hanging at his belt to make room for the large white bandage that wrapped his left shoulder. Zuko tried to rise, but the action only made him hiss in pain.

“Prince Zuko!” Uncle hurried to his side, gently propping his back up with the uninjured hand. 

“What…what happened? Where are we?” Zuko sat up with the help, hand cradling his forehead. Uncle pushed a hot cup into his other hand, and the scent of jasmine rose up into his nose. 

“You pushed yourself too much trying to stand your ground, nephew,” the older sat back on his heels and began to explain, “the Avatar and his friends healed me, then helped move us to this building for shelter. You know, they all seem to be nice kids if you look past the whole ‘threatening to kill us’ parts of our history.” Iroh laughed, then winced at his injury. Zuko panicked a little, but was waved off. 

“I am glad to see you again, Prince Zuko. I tried to give you all the time you needed to search for your answer, but you can’t blame an old dragon for worrying about his cub.”

Zuko didn’t respond, looking down into the pitiful fire instead. He couldn’t smell any chi coming off the smoke, which probably meant it was made without bending.

The Avatar had helped his enemy.

“..why did they help?” he finally asked, voice cracking. He took a sip of his rapidly cooling tea.

“Now you must remember, they are like us, humans, one and the same. I am sure that if we had swapped positions, you wouldn’t have sat idly by either.”

“Then you don’t know me at all!” Zuko growled, grip tightening on the cup until he heard the slightest clink . He looked down and saw the rim had chipped.

Uncle looked at him with both patience and the smallest hint of sadness, and Zuko couldn’t hold that gaze for very long, a familiar feeling of shame blooming in his chest like an ink drop in a glass of water.

His Uncle looked out the window he was resting below, then said “There will be a time you will face off against Azula again, you know this, correct?”

Zuko heated up his now cold tea and took another drink before nodding wordlessly.

“I believe that now would be the best time to resume your training.” 

Uncle set down his cup and rose, clutching his arm and groaning at the ache, but as soon as he was on his feet he had an air of reliability that Zuko was all-too familiar with.

The lightning blew up in his face. Again, and again, and again.

After the nth time, Zuko yelled in frustration and threw his fists into the dirt in the same way he might have when he still had two eyes and a mother and a sister who only pushed him into fountains instead of trying to gouge his heart out. 

“Why isn’t it working?!” he shouted at the sky, and Uncle rose from his seat off to the side to get closer to where his nephew was. 

“It would seem you still have internal strife, Prince Zuko,” he said sagely, like Zuko didn’t already know that, “you will not be able to grasp lightning without a clear mind.”

“And how am I supposed to clear my mind?! I don’t think tea and meditation will help.” he snapped back, ignoring Uncle’s scandalized gasp to glare down at the earth. 

Uncle soon went back to being serious, “It’s because you still hold on to these deep feelings of shame and hatred that the lightning will not answer your call, and I’m afraid that clearing yourself of such things will take a great many years to come.” He crouched down to get closer to Zuko, putting a hand on his shoulder. 

“Listen to me, you must always remember that you are more than what your father thinks of you; my brother is blind to not see how far you have come and how brightly you will shine in the future. You must not lose yourself again to such dark thoughts again, I couldn’t bear it.”

Zuko tried not to think about the gaps in his memory, or the phantom taste of iron in his mouth that never seemed to leave.

Uncle stayed quiet, waiting for a response he would not get, then perked up a little. 

“You might not be able to summon lightning, but I know something that even Azula cannot do; a way to redirect it.”

Uncle straightened up, taking Zuko with him, and they both moved to a clear patch of dirt that wasn’t scorched black with failed attempts, and Uncle began his lecture about the harmony of the nations.

Jet wasn’t very used to boats, and Smellerbee was really not used to boats.

He wandered off after Longshot promised to stay with the girl dangling for dear life over the rail (just in case she needed someone to haul her back up from the waters) and out of curiosity, which soon turned into disgust, he peeked his head through the kitchen door just in time to see the chef separate the slop those who paid for passage were getting with the damn-near six course meal on a silver platter reserved for the captain. The sight gave him a familiar urge to fall back into old ways, to act as the people’s hero, a vigilante that needed no thanks, just like the stories his Mam would tell him before she was speared and burned like a kebab in front of his eyes thanks to Fire Nation raiders.

He stomped back to his two companions with a glint in his eye, one they both recognized, and without him saying a word Smellerbee asked him what the plan was. He chewed on the stick of wheat nestled between teeth, and scanned the deck, eyes landing on a dark-haired boy his age spitting out his rations into the sea and turning to the old man in the sun hat beside him, giving Jet a clear view on why he might hate being oppressed just as much as Jet did.

“We’re gonna need one more person.”

The boy agreed instantly, to Jet’s delight, and both he and the man introduced themselves as Lee and Mushi.

The plan went off without a hitch.

They snuck into the kitchens at night, swiping more chicken and vegetables than Jet had ever seen in his life, and rappled down the line Longshot provided without a single guard the wiser. Their prize was the sight of a deck full of people sharing rations and feasting with big smiles on their faces. 

He had just finished passing out the last of the bowls when Smellerbee stomped past him in a huff, Longshot right behind. He raised a brow and looked back at where she had come from, giving him the sight of his new friends seated there awkwardly, the old man shouting after her hurriedly. He could probably guess what happened.

He walked over to join them, “From what I heard, people eat like this every night in Ba Sing Se. I can’t wait to set eyes on that giant wall.”

Mushi nodded, “Indeed, it is quite a sight.”

“You’ve been there?”

“Once,” he looked off to the side, “when I was a different man.”

Jet could sympathize with that.

“Don’t sweat it, I’ve done things I’m not proud of too. That’s why I’m going to the city; for a second chance.”

“Yes, I believe that everyone deserves a second chance.” The man glances at the teen beside him as he says this, and Jet can sense a real nasty weight from that sentence.

The next morning, with the mist covering the pink dawn, Jet catches the boy by himself near the helm, staring out at the ocean.

He joins him, “You know, as soon as I saw your scar,” he felt the boy next to him tense, “I knew who you were.”

He turned to Lee, “An outsider, like me.”

“We’ve gotta watch each other’s back, y’know. No one else is going to do it, after all.”

The boy next to him shakes his head slowly, “Being alone isn’t always the best path.”

“Yeah? How so?” Jet takes a few steps forward then flips around, leaning elbows on the rail. His companion fidgets with his fingers, hiding them when Jet glances down.

“Well, I would think it would be a little obvious.” he sniffed, and after talking to him for a while, Jet’s starting to notice how Lee enunciated his words like he was a public speaker, like he was used to talking to a lot of people at once, despite being kind of an awkward turtle-duck.

“Enlighten me.”

Lee’s blushing now, Jet notices with amusement, fair skin doing nothing. 

“You know.”

“Oh, that. ” Jet couldn’t hold it back anymore, and started laughing uproariously, causing a few passengers to complain at the noise so early in the day.

“Don’t worry,” Jet placates, still wheezing a little, “it happens to all of us. Don’t be so embarrassed, dude, hahaha!”

The Lee’s flush deepened, and he turned on his heel, stomping off without another word.

Jet watched from his place in line as Mushi sweet-talked the secretary into stamping their entry into the city.

“I think Lee would make a good Freedom Fighter.” he said, ignoring Smellerbee’s incredulous look.

“Hey, dumbass, you just met the guy. Weren’t we gonna stop doing that kind of stuff, anyway?” she leaned into his view so he couldn’t pretend he hadn’t heard her.

“The new Freedom Fighters could use a guy like him, is all I’m saying. That scar should tell you all you need to know.” 

It turned out he should’ve listened to her though, when after he got rejected by Lee, he happened to look over the boy’s shoulder and saw steam coming up from a cup of tea that should’ve been ice-cold.

Uncle found them jobs at a run-down, just-maintained enough to not collapse in on itself, tea shop, because of course he did.

He obviously lied about Zuko’s customer service skills, judging by their new boss’s looks every time he messed up an order or dented a cup when he got berated for something he wasn’t in control of (What could he do about how hot the day was? Did he look like a waterbender, ma’am?). 

He was slowly starting to get the hang of it, learning not to startle whenever a customer came up to him from his left and how quickly he should clear a table after a party leaves and what brew to recommend when it all tasted the same to him,  and Uncle’s exceptional tea-making skills were enough for the owner to look the other way.

Then, weeks after he had even seen the guy, Jet busts in with hook-swords in hands and accuses them of being firebenders,

What the fuck.

“What the fuck.” Zuko said, blinking stupidly. Behind him, Uncle scolded him for his language.

Jet accused Uncle of heating his tea, in a tea shop, and that went over as well as one would expect. The two seated guards started getting tense the longer it went on, and the one closest to Zuko rose after Jet yelled out a challenge. 

And no fucking way was Zuko going to let the opportunity to beat up someone without getting fired slip away.

He grabbed the guard's dao swords (what were the odds?) and took his stance.

Jet shouted, “Come on, then!” and then Zuko kicked a nearby heavy walnut-oak table at him.

Jet’s eyes widened, but he hooked his swords in the wood and pulled himself over to avoid it, then charged himself, slashing at Zuko’s feet and slicing the furniture in the process. 

The crossed swords, again and again, until Jet managed to get a lucky kick in on his sternum, pushing Zuko out onto the dark, wet street outside, his opponent hot on his heels. 

“Come on then, Lee. You must be getting tired of using swords, why don’t you shoot some fire blasts to end this early, huh?” Jet provoked him every few seconds, teeth still clutching that stupid wheat, and Zuko’s heart thundered in his chest at the challenge. 

Showing flame would only lead them to ruin, though, he had learned.

Zuko narrowed his eyes, the gold in them flooding his irises as his pupils focused on his opponent, his enemy. He lunged forward, substituting claws for steel, and pinned the stupid boy’s hook-sword to the dirt, sweeping with his other in an attempt to take his head. 

“Lee, Jet! Calm down, there’s been a misunderstanding!” he could hear Uncle’s voice faintly over the blood rushing in his ears, but he refused to yield. 

“Give up yet?” he snarled, and Jet tilted forward in answer, forcing Zuko back towards the well clearing, where onlookers were starting to gather more and more. 

Spittle dripped from his teeth as he snapped at Jet, trying to reach over his shoulder to get to the boy’s throat while they both circled around each other, somehow ending up back-to-back.

“Should’ve known firebenders were mad with bloodlust, no wonder I got a bad feeling from you.” Jet parried another blow and threw back his own, curling his lip in disgust every time he looked at Zuko’s face.

“Stop this fighting at once!” a voice rang out, sounding like it belonged to a man used to handling crowds, used to respect.

Zuko growled deep in his chest, long and low, but stayed his hand. A few of the locals near him inched away.

“They’re firebenders, you have to believe me!” Jet began his pleas again, pointing both at Uncle, then Zuko. Uncle immediately began redirection, with the owner and the guards dining in the shop backing him up, and soon Jet had stone gloves clamped tight around his wrists, dragged off into the darkness of the back of a jail-cart. 

The guard came up to Zuko to ask for his swords back, and the one of higher rank also came over to ask him about the situation. Zuko tried to speak, but his tongue felt long and slippery, not doing much besides making him look like a great fool. 

Uncle stepped in smoothly, like he had been asked in the first place, and they both pretended they didn’t notice how the new guard (Dai Li, he corrected them) looked them both over with the barest flicker of recognition in his eyes. Behind his back, Uncle kept a firm grip on Zuko’s wrist, warm and grounding, giving something for him to focus on, wrenching himself away from the calls deep in his bones of FIGHT. DEFEND.

H U N T.

When Zuko felt normal again, it was just in time for the owner to come up to them and happily announce they would close up an hour early to recover, which was about four hours of his shift left instead of five.

Zuko really, really hated his job.

A few days later, the owner caught a case of the pentapox, and so it became a very rare situation where Zuko had nothing to do. Normally, he would sit on the rooftop of their building and watch the streets below, but that was usually done at night when he couldn’t sleep, not in broad daylight where anyone could see him and he would be labeled as the neighborhood creep for their entire stay here. 

He had tried other neighborhoods as a compromise, but the Dai Li quickly shooed him off the roofs like he was nothing but a vulture-crow picking roadkill. So now he was stuck at home, in their cramped one room box, with nothing to do. He couldn’t meditate, that would be too risky. Same thing with katas, and he left his swords at the shop (something the owner insisted he do so he could double as security the next time they had someone just a little too unruly).

Uncle came back home from his errands, and Zuko didn’t mention the redness around his eyes.

“Could you help me carry some things up, nephew?” he asked softly, and Zuko didn’t have the energy to try to pretend he wanted to argue.

Uncle always was a shopper, but he tended to spend more copper than usual during Lu Ten’s memorial day. 

Zuko had just picked up a potted flower that reminded him a little too much of the one that poisoned his uncle when the loudest sound he had ever heard pierced through his head, making him drop the clay pot and clench his ears instead, falling to his knees.

“Nephew! What’s wrong?!” Uncle rushed forward, and he felt hands on his back, but he kept his eyes squeezed tight. The sound was telling him to follow it, something was summoning him, and it was getting quieter, so without thinking he rose to his feet and started running for the south side of the walls, mind quiet. He was halfway there before someone slammed into him from behind, tackling him to the floor. He screeched, wriggling as best as he could to try to escape his captor’s grip, sight never wavering from where the sound was traveling. 

“Z-Lee! Listen to me, boy! Where are you going, snap out of it!” the voice shouted in his ear, and Zuko felt a few small slaps to his unmarred cheek, and he chittered and chirped in frustration and struggled harder-

The sound abruptly cut off.

Zuko blinked, then looked around himself.

“Uncle? What are you doing?”

The older, meeting his eyes, let out a deep sigh and fell backwards onto the road, seemingly exhausted. Zuko licked his teeth, once, twice, suddenly nervous, because he can’t really remember the last few minutes.

“You just ran off! Nearly gave me a heart attack too!” Uncle explained between pulls for air, trying to catch his breath. Zuko felt a hot wave of shame once he noticed the onlookers, and quickly stood, dusting his pants before leaning down to help his uncle up. 

“Sorry, there was just this noise, and…” he trailed off.

“Really? I didn’t hear anything that would turn a person crazy like that.”

And that threw Zuko off, a little, because why was it just him? The sound was loud enough to rival standing next to an erupting volcano.

Uncle, seeing his face probably, quickly backtracked, “Ah, but, well! You know how I’m starting to get on, they do say your hearing is the first to go.”

“Don’t talk like that Uncle.” Zuko mumbled, and he suddenly felt very tired. He just wanted to sprawl out in Agni’s rays and sleep for the rest of his life. He picked at his nails, which had grown to a near ridiculous length, rivaling those that noble women who kept up with the trendiest of fashion would adorn. His boss had scolded him for it, once, but fell silent for some reason when he accidentally left 5 deep scores of white on the granite kitchen top when he tapped him on the shoulder on the side of his scar. Now, he doesn’t bring it up as much.

They had gotten darker, again.

“Let’s go home.”

“Ah yes, let’s. Don’t worry, by the way, the plant survived the fall. It’s a good thing I bought an extra vase!”

Some sleazy high-rise merchant came into the shop and offered Uncle his own tea shop. The boss flattered and fluttered and fumbled as much as he could, but the promise of executive assistant manager was no match for a new apartment and a chance to finally fulfill his dreams.

Zuko had been feeling off lately, like he had started coming down with something, ever since the most awkward date night of his life with that girl named Jin.

He mumbled a half-hearted response to the noble who had turned to him with victory turning his silver tongue to gold and stepped outside for fresh air even though he was still in the middle of his shift. What was Boss going to do, fire him?

He looked up at the sky just in time to see a flier floating innocently down to the ground, the flash of an inked on arrow enough for him to snatch it up and look at it properly.

The Avatar was in the city, and his bison was missing.

He didn’t bring it up until they were home and Uncle was in the middle of brainstorming names for his new shop.

“And what do you plan to do, nephew?” he had asked, eyebrow raised, watching Zuko stare at the piece of paper in his hands.

“I’m not..sure. I’m so used to just going after him that now I don’t really know what to do.”

He wanted to go home, that’s all he really knew; the life of Ba Sing Se, isolated from his people and the rest of the world, has made him more homesick than ever. He missed the festivals of Caldera, the beaches. He missed the scent of roasted food and fire flakes that clung to everyone’s clothes all the way to the throne room during the summer.

But to get that back he had to do something that would make him the picture-perfect archetype of a Fire Nation citizen that everyone he had met lately seemed to loathe and fear and have nightmares about.

His stomach twisted when he thought about Lee.

“Well,” Uncle closed his case, “I did tell that group that we would meet up here eventually, remember? Now seems to be the perfect time. What’s their address?”

Aang was still feeling a little hot headed by Joo Dee’s insistence that they not look for his best friend when someone knocked on their door again. He whirled around and angrily threw it open, ready to give the woman another piece of his mind, but stopped when his eyes met Fire Nation gold instead.

“Well, hello young Avatar! Good to see you again.”

“Uncle!” Aang grinned, then leaned over when he heard sputtering behind the man. “Wow, and Zuko too!”

The prince in question hastily shushed him in a way that reminded Aang of their fortress days together. 

“We found your poster. You know you're not allowed to set these up, right?” Zuko pulled one out from under the collar of his shirt, handing it to him.

“Who cares what they think!?” Aang started getting mad all over again just at the thought, and his friends behind him all seemed to groan at his emotions bouncing back and forth.

“Sorry, but seriously!”

“Ah, perhaps we could be of assistance then, young Avatar? I don’t mean to brag, but my nephew here is very good at tracking your bison down.”

“M’kay, that’s not weird.” Sokka said from behind. 

“We would love your help!” Aang chirped, then was shoved aside as Toph came barreling through.

“Uncle! Is this your weird nephew?”

Iroh ignored Zuko’s confused “weird?” and nodded happily, “The very same!”

“Uncle!” the weird nephew in question exclaimed, sounding betrayed. 

“Awesome. Hey,” she turned to Zuko now, staring straight at his navel, “Lean down.”

“What? Why?” 

Toph chose to grab his shirt and tug him down instead of answering, then shoved her thumbs into his mouth.

“Holy shit, they are sharp!” she cackled in glee, letting go and seeming to take immense joy in hearing the prince reel back sputtering and spitting out dirt and dust and Tui knows what else. 

“Do you want our help or not?” Zuko hissed, and Aang was still not really used to that because he never met a Fire Nation royal who could do that, but he nodded enthusiastically all the same.

“We were just about to go out and hang up more posters. Do you think you could help us increase the ground we cover?” Katara stepped up, a little nervously, and passed a packet of fliers. Zuko nodded, looked at Aang with an unreadable gleam in his eye, then turned around to leave.

“Oh, there’s a hole in your house, by the way.”

They ran into Jet, which was a surprise. 

FInding out he was brainwashed was even more of a surprise.

Apparently Zuko knew him too.

“This guy tried to kill me at work.” he explained, like that was enough, when they were all seated in Smellerbee and Longshot’s apartment.

“Lee, you know the Avatar?” Jet raised his brows in surprise, and half the people in the room were confused until Zuko said “Yeah.”, successfully making his explanation of how he knew Jet even stranger.

Zuko noticed it (after Toph had to elbow him), then explained curtly, “Alias.”

Oh, well. Yeah, that made sense.

“Listen, Jet. We need to figure out where they took you. Chances are Appa’s in the same place.”

“I told you already, I don’t remember being brainwashed or anything like that. I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Zuko suddenly stood and walked over to Jet, grabbing his hair and wrenching it to the side.

“Zuko?” Aang started, but they all stopped, including Longshot who was standing as well to aid his friend, when Zuko ducked down and, of all things, opened his mouth slightly and flicked his tongue out near the base of Jet’s throat.

After a few heartbeats, he let go, “He was taken somewhere with a large body of water.” No one really knew how to respond to that, not until he turned back around and looked at the rest of the room like they were the weirdos. “What? ”

“Hello! What the fuck was that!” Sokka finally broke the silence. Behind Zuko, Jet’s face was getting redder and redder. 

“Scent lingers the longest on pulse points. Can you people use anything but your bending for once?” Zuko huffed, a small lick of smoke puffing out, startling Smellerbee and Longshot out of their reverie.

“Holy shit! He’s-!” Iroh suddenly clamped a hand over her mouth.

“Haha, now now, my dear girl! Remember, we are all friends here! We don’t want to really trigger any unforeseen rifts, right?” Uncle glanced at Jet, who was the only one not facing Zuko, as he said this. Smellerbee glared at the man hatefully, but eventually nodded.

“Joo Dee mentioned a lake, didn’t she? Lake Laogai.” Katara snapped her fingers. “I bet that’s where they’re keeping him.”

“Then let’s go!” Aang leapt up with a burst of wind, causing everything around him to flutter. 

It turned out Zuko was right.

“There’s a giant network of tunnels under there.” Toph pointed at the water, then brought up the entrance, opening it to show a ladder that seemed to go forever into darkness.

“This is..kind of familiar.” Jet mumbled, rubbing his head a little. Zuko shoved past him and jumped down the hole without a second thought. 

“Nephew, please! You know my knees aren’t what they used to be.” Iroh called after him, then turned to the group, “Shall we go?”

Zuko, thankfully, chose to wait for them instead of running off immediately. 

“I can smell him.” He told Aang as soon as he spotted the airbender, and Aang’s heart almost burst out of his chest.

“Really? Where is he?” He started jumping up and down, but calmed when Zuko just shook his head.

“He stinks enough that I know he’s here, but this place is under a lake, everything is diluted.”

Aang tried not to take offense for that first part (Appa was clean as a bison-whistle!) and turned to Sokka, “What’s the plan, then?”

Sokka thought for a moment, holding his chin. “Okay, Aang, you go with Zuko and Uncle that way, the rest of us will go the other. If none of us can find him in an hour, we'll meet back here, okay?”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea, Sokka?” Katara asked quietly, though Aang saw Zuko turn away anyway, like he didn’t want to hear the conversation but was forced to, and start walking off. 

“It’ll be fine. Aang kicked his butt a ton of times, plus Uncle’s on our side now! He can’t take them both.”

“Are you coming or not?” Zuko’s voice rang out from down the corridor, just shy of making the left turn deeper into the labyrinth of tunnels. Iroh stepped up until he was side-by-side with Aang, and grinned at him with a mischievous sparkle that reminded him a little too much of Monk Gyatso, and said, “Nephew, you know you must be patient with your elders.”

Aang laughed and joined in, “That’s right young man, don’t make me tell you twice!”

He didn’t even mind the growl he got in response.

The bison stunk, plain and simple. 

The scent tasted like he had been put in an old box and left there for weeks, and it was thanks to this musk that Zuko could catch enough of a trail to vaguely figure out the direction he should be going. His Uncle, the Avatar, and he waited for a guard to pass before continuing on, and in the lingering silence the kid apparently felt the need to fill it with something .

“So, how’s life?” he started.

“Bad.” Zuko responded, and the conversation ended there. 

It was almost sundown before Zuko heard a loud, steady heartbeat. He held a hand up to tell the others to stop, put a finger to his lips, and cocked his good ear up a little.

“This way.”

“Wow Zuko, you can hear stuff really well!” 

“Oh, he always could. One time he decided to surprise me around a corner of the hall, and was so proud of himself when he told me about how he had memorized everyone’s walking patterns from sound alone.”

“Aww!”

“Uncle, please.” They were closer, the heartbeat louder, but so were the sounds of water running through pipes, and, further, the sound of battle. “We need to hurry.”

“What did you hear? Are the others okay?” the Avatar grasped his staff tightly in nervousness, cupping his own ear in hopes of catching anything.

“Can’t tell yet. Ugh,” Zuko clutched his head as his vision swam, stumbling a little. A brain fog was starting to settle over his mind, making it harder to think. 

“Are you alright, Prince Zuko?” Uncle cupped his elbow, moving to look at his face. He raised a hand and set it on his forehead, “You’re running a little hot.”

“We’re firebenders, remember?” Zuko clicked his tongue and jerked away from the hand, as nice and cool as it felt, because if he allowed himself more time with it he might end up falling asleep.

“Yes, but still.”

“M’fine.” Ah, the words were coming out harder now, as were his thoughts. He was starting to have trouble remembering what they were doing.

“Are we near Appa?”

Right, the bison (the Avatar was very close, wasn’t he? He could take him back home right now if he wanted to). Zuko didn’t answer him, and it was getting very annoying wandering around in circles in these dark, wet, dingy caves that made up the prison. Zuko took a deep breath instead, and then let out a call.

It sounded deep, a rumble that started in his belly and ended in his throat, hissing noises accompanying it. 

“Oh my.” his Uncle sucked in a breath next to him, and Zuko let out another and then listened for any response. 

Before they knew it, there was a loud lowing echoing off the walls.

“I hear him! That’s Appa!”

“Come on, nephew.” The older man gently guided Zuko after the one who ran off, and Zuko couldn’t really recall where he was anymore. “Stay with me now. Agni above, warn a man next time, I have to keep a closer eye on you than I thought.”

Zuko ran his tongue along his teeth. Spirits he was tired, and hungry. 

He took in his surroundings when they entered a dark room, seeing a sky bison chained to the floor and a flighty human buzzing around him, trying desperately to get the cuffs off.

“Zuko! Can you cut through these with your swords?” the child asked.

Zuko looked at him for a long moment, unblinking, and vaguely remembered something about the boy. 

He couldn’t go home and reclaim his right to the throne and protect his clan until this boy was dead.

He took a step forward.

The bison suddenly lunged, roaring, slapping its tail as much as it could. It didn’t speak, not like how Zuko could, but it could still communicate.

Not. Him. The bison said through its narrowed eyes and bared teeth. Zuko clacked his teeth together, then blinked, slowly, a thought slow as syrup-honey trickling in. 

“Appa! What’s wrong, are you hurt?” the boy, the Avatar said.

The bison’s name is Appa.

Zuko shook his head, glancing at Uncle beside him who watched on with a worried gaze, a hand reaching out just a little to catch him in case he stumbled again.

He held up a hand, too tired to speak, then walked towards the two airbenders again, this time with the goal he came here with.

He brought a hand down on the chains, one after another, the thick metal banging harmlessly off his nails. 

‘Why can’t anyone do anything themselves.’  Zuko thought with mirth, which he was pulled out of quite abruptly when a large pink wet tongue dragged itself over his form.

He shook off the saliva, glaring at the beast who thanked him, and hissed in retaliation.

“Come on, let’s go help Katara and the others!” Aang flew up on the bison, taking position between his horns, while Zuko and Uncle climbed Appa’s shoulder to get on his back.

Zuko huffed at the smell that surrounded him, and the beast responsible chuffed in laughter.

As soon as they parted ways with the Avatar, Zuko finally succumbed to his fever.

Iroh was very worried, and seriously considered sending a message to his fellow member Pakku to see if the North had any knowledge on ways to ebb the intensity of dragon inheritance.

The boy had let out a sound Iroh had only heard once in his life, and that was when he was taken by the Sun Warriors and shown the true ways of firebending. Before, it had filled him with joy. Now, all that was left was dread.

The human mind could only take so many gifts. Too many and they could lose what made them them, turning them into nothing but a dragon in all but form. The most Iroh had personally seen was four, and that was a struggle. 

Zuko seemed to have seven from what he had witnessed alone.

Dragons were dangerous, in more ways than one, and they were greedy things.

Iroh prayed to Agni and all his siblings that his nephew would be able to get through this alright.

His fever broke the next day, and Zuko woke up with a dreaminess to him that made him feel further away than when they split apart. 

“Would you like breakfast, Uncle?” he had asked, already fluffing up rice, and Iroh froze on the stairwell for a moment before continuing.

“Yes, thank you. How are you feeling?”

“Just fine. I’m sorry for worrying you. I hope that I haven't delayed the opening of your tea shop.” 

He was…considerate, now. He felt almost like how he was when he was still a very young boy with no sister to compete with and no knowledge that his father hated him yet. Physically, he had completely recovered, and after a full day of nothing else unusual coming from it, Iroh decided to finally open his shop, so that they both wouldn’t stay stuck in their house. 

Zuko was all smiles the entire shift, and the softness in his brow and the way he laughed at Iroh’s jokes made his heart break just a bit, because he knew this Zuko was still there somewhere, hidden under all the grime and scar tissue his life decided to bury him in.

So they worked, and neither of them noticed the bubbly Kyoshi Warrior that had almost entered the shop before spotting them, and then they got an invitation to serve tea to the Earth King himself! Zuko was so excited for him, and Iroh was so excited that their lives were finally turning around.

“I had always imagined myself climbing these steps, you know. At first I thought I would do it as a conqueror, but I ended up being the Earth King’s guest!” 

Zuko laughed with him, and kept laughing as they sat at the low table waiting for the Earth King’s arrival. 

After 40 minutes had passed, the pull in his gut that never led him astray told him something was wrong.

A line of Dai Li walked out, single file, and at the center was Azula, donned in Earth Kingdom green, smirking at them like she had already won.

“Lala!” Zuko exclaimed happily, greeting his little sister with a name that Iroh hadn’t heard in many years.

“Has all those days with sunstroke finally caused you to go dumb, brother?” Azula hissed, fangs folding out like a tunnel-mamba, just like her great grandmother.

“What? No, I just missed you.” Zuko responded dumbfounded, and looked around warily as the Dai Li agents began surrounding them. 

Azula twitched at this, like she genuinely didn’t expect such an answer, then sneered, “I missed you too, dear Zuzu. Remember the games we would play together? Why don’t we do one now, for old time’s sake?” 

“Azula, what’s going on?” Zuko stood up now, sticking close to Iroh. The man grabbed a hot cup of tea and asked his niece if she remembered how he got his nickname ‘The Dragon of the West’.

“What, is this supposed to be some kind of memory test, Uncle? Like I could remember what you got.”

“That’s alright, I was thinking of providing a demonstration anyway.”

He took a deep pull of the tea (delicious as always), then pushed his nephew down and spewed white-hot flame from his throat. 

The Dai Li were knocked back, and Azula dove out of the way, making enough room for Iroh to punch a hole in the wall and spew the last of his flames at their pursuers before he grabbed Zuko’s wrist and dragged him along.

“Keep up boy, that’s it. We need to get away!”

“Uncle, what’s going on! Why is Azula trying to hurt us?” Zuko shouted, then sharply drew in a breath between clenched teeth, bringing a hand up to his head.

“No time for that!” Iroh took his stance, then allowed lightning to race across his form, shooting it at the end of the hall and blasting the wall, creating an exit.

“Come on Prince Zuko, you must jump!” 

“Wait, wait,” Zuko dug his heels into the plush carpet, eyes wide, “Can’t we just talk to her? That’s what Mom always told us to do when we got mad, remember? Maybe we did something.”

“Oh, you most certainly did.” Azula’s voice sounded from behind them. Iroh turned around and pushed Zuko behind him, arms raised.

“Seriously, what happened to him Uncle? Was he so afraid of claws he lost his mind?”

“That is not how you should be talking about family, young lady.” Iroh admonished.

Azula’s face twisted, and she curled a lip, “I don’t want to hear that from the man who left his whole country behind for one stupid traitor!” With that, she snapped her fingers, and the Dai Li in the front row threw their stone gloves at them. Iroh reflected two, then four, then six, but they just kept coming, and pretty soon there was one that he didn’t see but his nephew did.

He only realized that when he flew back through the hole in the wall, watching his nephew stand there in a panic, arms outstretched from where he pushed his uncle out of the way, then pinned to the floor as he was restrained by the Agents.

Lala threw him in a crystal cavern without explanation. He had tried to talk to her, but she only glanced at him like he was a stranger and then looked away with an expression he had never seen before shaping her face. They threw him down a tunnel, which hurt a lot , and did nothing to help his growing headache, and suddenly he was face to face with the Water Tribe girl. 

“Oh, hello.” he said, a little surprised.

“Zuko!” she seemed happy to see him, “What are you doing here?”

Zuko stood up and dusted his pants, “I have no idea, I’ve never seen my sister do something like this before.” He scrunched his nose, “I don’t think.”

“Well, come on! Help me find a way out of here!” she turned on her heel and started running off.

“Wait, wait!” Zuko called, and when she stopped and turned back to him, he felt embarrassed to ask. 

“Sorry, but what was your name again?”

After a few minutes of memorization, Zuko started helping Katara look for a way out. 

“Hey, maybe you can waterbend the lake to come and flood the cave and then we’ll get flushed out.” Zuko suggested.

Katara blinked, “No, that’s-no. The lake is too far away, firstly. Secondly, we’d both drown first.”

“Really? Lu Ten told me waterbenders could breathe underwater.” Zuko blinked. 

“Who’s Lu Ten?”

“My cousin, Uncle’s son. He’s going to be Fire Lord.”

“...Zuko, are you okay?”

Katara stopped searching, so Zuko stopped looking around too, and she stepped closer and gently grasped his head, turning it this way and that, telling him to keep his eyes on the patch of skin between her brows.

“No bruises under the eyes, no swelling. Did something happen when you went to get Appa?”

“No, why do you ask?”

She took a step back and started scanning his whole body instead, “You’re acting very different from usual, and you think this Lu Ten guy is the Crown Prince.”

What? “But he is.”

“Zuko, you’re the Crown Prince. Before you got banished, I mean.”

“Banished? What are you-?” He was cut off by a sharp stab of pain running along the side of his brain, making him gasp and double over, dry-heaving. He couldn’t make out anything over the overlaying voices of his mother warning him of the Crown and his sister teasing about his death and his father telling him that suffering would be his teacher and his own voice telling him that he was so hungry and that he was going to dIE and he needed to eat eaT EaT EAT EAT E

It went dark.

“Zuko? Zuko!” Katara shook the boy’s shoulder, but he remained unresponsive, occasionally twitching and moaning, the eyes under his lids flickering rapidly. His hands were curled like gnarly talons, like something she would see from a skua-lynx instead of a person.

Behind her, the crystals shuddered, letting out merry tinkles before a hole formed from nothing. Both Aang and Iroh jumped out and made an ant-bee-line for them.

“Zuko!” Iroh shouted, skidding to his knees and flipping the boy over so he could take a look at his face, “Wake up, son, wake up!”

“What’s wrong with him?” Aang handed Katara her backup skin, and she wasted no time pulling enough water out to coat her hands and rest them on the prince’s temples.

“I don’t know, he just suddenly collapsed. It seemed he was suffering from a selective kind of amnesia, but I have no idea why he had it in the first place.”

Iroh tightly gripped his nephew’s hand, not minding the nails, “It would seem he has not yet won the war with his inner dragon.”

Katara reached deep with her water, gently dancing along the nerves and following the faint sparks of energy that moved around his brain.

“Iroh, can you think of anything that would bring him back; a memory that’ll help?”

The man thought for a moment, “Perhaps..when I took him to Ember Island, once.”

“Please tell him about it, I’m going to try to stimulate his mind and see if we can get him to wake up.” Katara got to work, perspiration on her brow, while Iroh began softly telling of a story about a boy who wanted to save every creature caught in the crab-cages he would find.

Aang stood off to the side nervously, not having anything to do. Katara tried, and then kept trying, and didn’t give up even after the story trailed off and Iroh started haltingly telling the tale of a pair of lovers. She looked everywhere for the one spot that would stimulate Zuko back into wakefulness, but it was like something heavy and rank was acting as a barrier, and the scar tissue that went deep into his skin and even down to the back of his eye socket made Katara sick to her stomach.

She only looked up when Iroh was suddenly encased in crystal, then Aang, then Azula sauntered in looking like an owl-cat who got the cream.

“Well, I didn’t think he could get any more dramatic, but if there was one thing Zuzu was better at, it was theater.”

“Stay away from him.” Iroh snarled, straining against the crystal in a way that made the veins in his neck jut out.

Azula tsk’d, “Temper, temper. He’s obviously unwell, and since a Princess’s duty includes taking care of her subjects, I will be bringing him back to Caldera with me. But first,” and she turned to Aang, “Father would probably allow me this favor if I brought him back your head as a souvenir. Aang’s eyes widened, and then he earthbended the crystal off him, using the momentum to pin one of the two Agents Azula brought to the wall, slamming him enough to knock him unconscious.

“I’ll take care of them, focus on healing Zuko!” Aang yelled, then ran down a corridor that opened up into a large room, Azula hot on his heels.

“Capture them!” she snapped back at the remaining Agent, and he took his stance, aiming stone gloves at Katara.

“Hn..Hraaah!” Iroh burst out of the crystal, slamming into the Agent and throwing him further into the cave, and Katara looked back down at the quivering boy in front of her and went back to work.

Zuko felt…fuzzy.

He was standing somewhere. Or maybe floating? Either way, he didn’t know where he was because everything was pitch black and he couldn’t hear anything. He felt groggy, like he had been sleeping for months, and his muscles felt like they were going to explode.

Oh, he was at the North Pole now, and he could see Zhao and. Himself? Except that couldn’t be him, because Zuko didn’t look like a wolf-beast from Northern Myth while he was chasing down Zhao, he was pretty sure he just looked like Zuko. He watched, and as soon as not-Zuko pinned Zhao down, the scene changed.

Now he was in the Earth kingdom, and he was fighting those guards that tried to take Lee away, but it was a not-Zuko again; one that looked meaner and angrier, less a myth and more a monster. 

He was supposed to be doing something, Zuko remembered. But every time he tried to think about what it was, it felt like his mind was splitting in two directions. One felt like home, the other felt like the days when he would feed the turtle-ducks with Mother.

Ah, Mother was gone.

The scenery started swirling as he started remembering things he never realized he forgot, like how Lu Ten was gone, and his eye was gone, and his crown was gone, and his pride was gone.

The feeling of home grew stronger as he remembered what his Father whispered in his burnt and bleeding ear.

“You will learn respect, and suffering shall be your teacher.”

Father was gone.

He was at a riverbed, with a badger-fox staring at him from the other side of the stream. It looked lean and dirty. It stared at him for a moment before turning and disappearing into the underbrush.

That’s right, it was mostly fat and gristle, hardly any meat.

Zuko covered his mouth, making himself breathe through his nose to hold back to nausea. He turned around and almost ran into a red dragon.

The beast blinked, then began circling him, winding tighter and tighter until Zuko was held aloft by its serpentine body and he could suddenly feel hot air blasting on his face with every breath it took.

“Who are you?” he asked.

I am you. The beast responded.

Zuko shook his head, “No, that can’t be true, you look nothing like me.”

The dragon shook out the crimson scales adorning its crest and turned its gaze to a scene of Zuko struggling desperately to go somewhere, held down by his terrified uncle, nothing coming out of his mouth except frustrated keens.

I am you. It repeated.

“What do you want?” Zuko asked, biting his lip, not wanting to see himself acting like a mindless animal. 

I want you to become me. I want me to become you. 

“Why? Wouldn’t it be better if you just did as you pleased?”

The dragon leaned forward and rested the tip of its snout above Zuko’s heart.

This is strong enough. 

Zuko felt warm tears falling down his cheeks, and he couldn’t raise his arms to wipe them, so he slumped forward instead, using his newly-grown bangs to cover as much as he could. 

I will write destiny with you once more.

Then you will decide alone.

Katara almost slammed her head with Zuko’s when the boy shot up with a gasp, shoulders heaving and gaze empty.

“Zuko! Thank La you’re okay.” Katara slumped to the side, panting heavily. Earlier, Iroh had assured her he would help Aang fight against Azula, but the longer the sounds of battle went on, the more worried she grew.

“Stay here, okay? I need to go help Aang.” Zuko turned, and Katara stopped breathing.

His eyes were a predator’s eyes, pupil slit and unmoving. Red scales peppered his skin, clustered around his scar and branching out like veins. Horns peeked from his hair, as dark as his locks. He cocked his head at Katara, inquisitive, then raised his gaze at the corridor towards where the battle was and started walking.

“Wh-Hey! Woah woah wait, you need to lie down!” Katara scrambled after him, and how did Zuko get so fast?

She emerged from the other side in time to see Azula lowering her hands in surprise, Aang nearly falling off the tower he had built for himself with earthbending. Iroh was nowhere to be found.

“Nice look, Zuzu, you finally decided on something other than the Blue Spirit?” Azula teased, but her voice wavered the smallest bit, because she might live with a monster, but she had never been in the presence of a myth before. Zuko didn’t respond. He instead crouched down, digging claws into the tough stone, and gathered his legs under himself before he launched at his sister.

Azula shrieked in surprise, throwing blue flame after blue flame, but Zuko landed on the ground for the barest of seconds before pivoting out of the way and throwing himself at her anew, like he was flying rather than leaping.

“What the hell is wrong with you, freak! What is going on?” Azula leapt out of the way a second before Zuko crashed into where she was, leaving a crater in his wake. He looked at her again,  and when she hissed at him, he wrinkled his nose and roared in a way that made the crystals clink against each other. Zuko readjusted his grip on stone and shot fire out of his mouth like he would his fist, aiming at Azula in rapid succession before throwing himself at her again. She just barely couldn’t get away in time, the tip of her shirt snagged by claw, and Zuko was on top of her, snarling in her face, hand pressed down on her throat and fire building up between his jaws.

“Zuko, wait! Wait, stop!” Aang flew down after realizing what he was trying to do, and in a moment of panic summoned a gale of wind to throw Zuko off his sister. 

“You can’t do this, Zuko, you’ll never forgive yourself otherwise!”

Zuko just snapped his jaws in irritation and focused his gaze back on the girl lying on the ground gasping for breath.

“Um, okay, thing controlling Zuko? I get you’re trying to help, but this is not the way to go about this!” Aang stepped into his line of sight again, forcing Zuko(not Zuko?) to look at him again. The not-Zuko huffed, restlessly pacing a short line to see if he can get around the Avatar to the girl. Katara was just wondering if she should step in to help when the rumble of the earth around her alerted her of new threats.

“Aang, heads up!” she yelled as Dai Li surrounded her. She pulled water from the canal nearby and worked quickly to build and maintain an 8-legged water whip.

“Katara!” she heard, and spared a glance to see Aang start to rush towards her, only to skid back once Zuko started his pursuit again. Azula was starting to rise, too, holding a hand to her throat and anger blazing in her eyes. Aang looked from Katara to Zuko to Azula, then seemed to come to a decision before abruptly sitting down and encasing himself in crystal. Katara tried to move to protect him, but then the Dai Li Agents grew tired of waiting, and began to strike all at once. This, plus the stressful healing session earlier, has started to empty out her energy reserves, and soon she’ll be running out of steam.

The not-Zuko started for Azula again, baring teeth and smoke coming out of his nostrils with the scent of sulfur rising, when Aang burst out of the crystal, glowing in a way that only meant he had entered the Avatar state. 

The not-Zuko skidded to a stop, keeping low to the ground, and Aang summoned a fire that had greens and purples and reds that glimmered as it moved before dousing Zuko in it, encasing him in a cage of flame until it dissipated and all that was left was a weak, groggy, smooth-skinned, normal Zuko.

Aang started to turn to Katara, but his previously blank face suddenly contorted in pain and his body spasmed. The white from his tattoos and eyes flickered out, and Katara could do nothing as he fell to the floor with smoke coming out of his back and foot, similar smoke wreathing around Azula’s pointed fingers.

“Go! Get out of here!”

“Iroh?” Katara pulled her gaze from Aang and saw Iroh drop down from a hole that only an earthbender could come out from, wrists pressed red from stone shackles.

“Grab the Avatar and go with Zuko, hurry!”

“But what about-”

“I escaped them before, I can do it again. Go. ”

Katara nodded and hurried over to the other side of the room, grasping Aang in one hand and pulling Zuko to his feet before making him wrap an arm around her shoulders for support. The three slowly made their way to the waterfall, Katara tying Zuko’s torso to hers with her belt before making a whirlpool big enough to launch all three of them out of the cavern, Iroh becoming more and more overwhelmed the higher they went.

When Zuko fully came to, he was flying through the night sky on the back of a bison, where most everyone seemed to be huddled around something by Appa’s head. Zuko tried to sit up, groaning and clutching his head as he did so, and when he pulled his hand away blood came with it.

“What happened?”

A bear….a bear was the only one who acted like it heard him.

Slowly, he crawled to the crowd, only for them all to start crying as soon as he got there.

Okay.

He finally saw Aang, though, nestled in Katara’s arms, the wound in the middle of his back burnt black and charred.

“Lightning.” he murmured, just loud enough for everyone to finally notice he was awake.

“Yes, Azula shot him. He would’ve died if I didn't have Spirit water from the North with me.” Katara scooted a small bit away from him, wouldn’t look him in the eye, nervous like she was waiting for something to happen.

Zuko chose to ignore it and looked around instead, then looked again after realizing he passed over everyone boarded and still didn’t see the face that mattered the most.

“Where’s Uncle?”

Katara bit her lip, didn’t say anything, but that was more than enough.

Chapter Text

Zuko hadn’t noticed them landing until Toph had flicked his forehead and told him to get off, the only one who had really spoken to him since they all escaped Ba Sing Se. He blinked, slowly, then turned around, the scent of salt water hitting his nose and reminding him of a time that felt like it was years and years ago when everything was simple and he still thought he could get his Father’s love again. 

They were on a beach, and the Avatar’s friends were running towards a group of people that looked like they belonged to Sokka and Katara’s tribe. The girl still had Aang in her arms, protective of him even when the threat had passed, and rushed onto the wooden ship deck, presumably to continue her work in the medic’s cabin. 

Zuko slowly slid off the bison, feeling floaty. It didn’t feel right, being here, with a bunch of people he barely knew. Some of them looked back at him from time to time with a gleam in their eyes that reminded him of his own when he looked in the mirror and saw his scar for the first time. 

Beside him, Appa lowed, nudging him gently with a wet nose. Nestled between the bison’s horns, a lemur perked up and chittered, then opened its wings and glided down towards Sokka, nestling on top of his head and ignoring the boy’s attempts at waving it off. 

“Haven’t seen you around before.” The man Sokka was talking with turned to Zuko once he got close enough, and the boy froze at the eyes scanning him; looking for potential dangers, probably, even though all he had was a knife in his boot and torn, dirty tea clothes.

“Zuko, sir. Son of the Fire Lord, former heir to the throne.” He bowed his head, keeping it there until the man told him to rise. 

“Name’s Hakoda, Chief of the Southern Water Tribe. I heard you helped my children out in Ba Sing Se?”

“Well, I didn’t really do much.” He didn’t look the other in the eye. If he knew anything about men in charge, especially ones who were fathers, it was that they hated brats questioning their thinking. 

“What happened to you, dude? Katara won’t tell me anything.” Sokka spoke up, leaning into Zuko’s space and scrutinizing him. Zuko tilted his blind side away on instinct.

“Sorry, I’m just as clueless as you are. I was out for most of it.”

“Well damn, something must have gone down for you to get those scales.”

“Scales?” Zuko’s hands shot up to his face, trembling, and his breath got caught in his throat when instead of the familiarity of wrinkled skin hitting his fingers, all he felt were smooth bumps.

“E-excuse me.” Zuko bowed again, quickly, then rushed off towards a part of the shore that was deserted. Behind him, Sokka shouted “Wait, they don’t look bad!”

Like that helped, like that took away from the fact that he was losing his humanity day after day.

He kneeled in the sand, panting, and took out his pearl-knife. The moon was the only light he had, but she shone enough for Zuko to spot a glinting on his face under his blind eye. He traced the scales as he looked at them, clustered like a flower in bloom over his scar and trailing down the side of his neck, smatters of red over his nose, on his other cheek, like freckles. 

Zuko felt like he was going to be sick. 

He dropped the knife, then dropped his head between his knees like Uncle taught him whenever he felt like he was going to spiral. Like when he still had nightmares where a man who looked like a grown up version of him smiled gently before stamping his skin with flame.

When his hands went up to pull at his hair, they bumped into little nubs sprouting from his head.

Agni help me.

“Hey, Zuko, hey!” He heard boots in sand behind him, and whipped his head around, tensing, panic turning into hostility towards the unknown threat.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to word it like that.” Sokka plopped down beside him, like Zuko wasn’t baring teeth at him, leaning back on his hands, “ Man , a lot of things have happened.”

“Um,” Hackles dropped as quickly as they were raised and the wind sufficiently taken out of his sails, Zuko pulled on the remains of his bell sleeves and rested a cheek on his knees, “What exactly has happened?”

Zuko listened, quiet, as Sokka brought him up to speed on what happened to Toph and then how Aang had to pull him from planning out the end of the war with his Father and somehow the Earth King got mixed up in there. 

The tides were getting higher the longer they sat there, and barely kissed the tips of his boots. He tried to calm down to the sounds of the waves and the other boy’s complaining that he was too young for this many heart attacks, and worried only a little about what he was going to do without Uncle around.

The Earth King and his bear had parted with them soon after they exited the Serpent’s Path (a place that had the scent of not-kin seeping up from the ocean, a place that made Zuko want to scale the canvas sails of the Water Tribe ship he was on and scorch the salty waters with his own mark, making sure whatever lived there would leave what he deemed his alone), and later, while they were all planning on how to sneak into the FIre Nation while they waited for the Avatar to wake up, Hakoda had turned and asked him if he was willing to help bring down his father. 

Zuko took a while to answer, “That is the Avatar’s fight, not mine.” He bit his lip, gentler than he normally would’ve, because now he had giant fangs he didn’t know what to do with, “I would be a fool to think that any of the citizens would want help from a banished prince anyway.”

“He doesn’t know firebending yet, correct?” Hakoda turned to his daughter, in a rare moment away from Aang.

 She looked at him with frost in her eyes, “No, not since Jeong-Jeong.”

This was the first time in a few days he had actually seen the waterbender, Zuko suddenly realized. Katara had never stayed near him ever since they embarked. He wondered what she saw in the caverns that made her not look at him anymore. 

He didn’t really get why the question was asked until the Chief looked at him again with a raised brow, “Oh, no.” he held his hands in front of him, “I can’t teach him.”

“Why not?” Toph said, leaning against the wall and picking her teeth with a fishbone. “It’s not like we got the pick of the litter here, Sparky.”

“Ah, I see.” A familiar coldness swept through his core, “I’m sorry that you got stuck with me.”

“Toph!” Katara hissed, then said, “That’s not what she means, Zuko. It’s just that there really aren’t any other firebenders around who can help on such short notice.”

She said this to the air besides his untouched ear instead of looking at him.

He ran a tongue along teeth, nervous, not unaware of the slight tensing of the Water Tribe men who filled the room, “Maybe.” He finally acquiesced.

“I can tell you now, though. There’s no way this fleet is going to get in unnoticed.” Zuko crossed his arms and looked down at the map spread out on the table, held down by Hakoda’s hand on one corner and Momo on the other.

“Here.” he pointed at a dock belonging to a colony, “This is where they switch crew for the patrol ships. If you can sneak on while they refuel, you could take the ship after they’re too far into the sea to ask for help and slip past the border without anyone suspecting a thing.”

The room blinked at him, then at the map, then at Momo when he snorted out of his slumber and hopped off the table, causing the paper to roll in.

“And what about the crew?”

“All border ships come equipped with a brig. They can withstand firebender heat. All we have to do,” and he huffed a plume of smoke at this, “is catch them unaware.”

“Captain, please, you have to listen to me! I think there’s a spirit in the cargo hold, I can’t go down there anymore.”

Jee really fucking hated his job sometimes.

He had had a long few months, ever since the fleet he was assigned to got decommissioned because none of the higher ups wanted to be associated with a man who thought killing the moon was a good idea. They didn’t know where to put him, since he had an “official” gap in his work history while he was Avatar hunting with a banished prince. Then he learned that the prince wasn’t dead anymore like he thought, but instead he was doubly banished. He also learned that he was a very violent drunk when he went to drown his mix of joy and sorrow away (because honestly, how dare that boy put him through the wringer like that?) and a patron was sneering at the prince and his weak bending and ugly scar that he gave himself and suddenly Jee’s knuckles had a few more teeth stuck in them than they did a few minutes ago. 

Then they finally found the “captain” buzzword on his resume and packed him off to the tin can running along the seam between the mainland and the Earth Kingdom colonies. 

“I’m sure it was nothing, Kai.” Jee rubbed his brow, already feeling the headache form. Somehow, he had reunited with his former crewmate two months into his new job, given to him by a disgruntled superior who said that the boy couldn’t do anything but teethe on his nails like a polar-dog pup. For some reason, he was delighted to see Jee, and then was in tears when Hakado stepped out of the engine room to tell him about a valve that needed replacing. 

He still hadn’t heard from the others; they all were silent when they parted on their respective vessels, the boom of their old home becoming something they all would have nightmares about for years to come.

“There was, I swear it! Scales drenched in blood, gouges in spare bedding. Please , sir, I can’t deal with this again.”

“Right, well, when dawn breaks I will go down and have a look, and when I don’t find anything, I don’t want to hear another word about spirits haunting the hull. Otherwise you’ll be mopping for the rest of the year, got it boy?”

“Y-yes. Yes, sir.” Kai saluted, then scurried off. Jee turned back to manage who would be on nightwatch, then wished the helmsman a good night and slunked to his quarters and collapsed on his bed without even taking his boots off.

The shouting of men pulled him from his sleep.

He rolled onto his feet before he fully woke, rushing toward the deck with helmet in hand and murder in his eyes because something always had to happen, didn’t it.

When he got there, he saw men garbed in blue tying up the guards while a waterbender girl who looked very familiar was freezing a good chunk more of his men to the sides of the hull, giving them the options of either staying put or falling into Tui’s jaws. 

What made Jee want to go back to bed however, was the (boy? spirit?) something climbing up the lookout post and squeezing between the bars like a serpent to get at the man stationed up there. 

“The hell’s all this?” Hakado came up from behind, soot spotting his face and matching the bags under his eyes.

“Something that could’ve at least waited until tomorrow.” Jee replied, then was tackled by a burly man to the floor and had his hands tied together with scratchy rope, palms pressed against each other so he wouldn’t think about firebending them off.

He and the rest of his men who weren’t busy lowering the temperature of the ship were herded to the middle of the deck, surrounded by the foes dressed in blue and waiting for what would happen next.

There was a screech from above, and they all looked up to see a lemur circling them, chittering near the lookout post before something else gave a warble that reminded Jee of komodo-rhino hatchlings playing with each other, making the lemur chirp and fly off. 

Whatever climbed up there climbed out, properly down the ladder this time, with the lookout hanging for dear life on its back.

“Sorry, sir, this one wouldn’t cooperate.” It spoke, and as they got closer, Jee realized it was actually he , and he was actually someone he knew. 

“You could have talked to me normally, you know!” the lookout bawled, then got unceremoniously dumped next to Jee when fucking Prince Zuko unhooked the boys tied together hands from his neck and dropped him there. Then he turned to Jee, and they both blinked at each other. 

After gawking at each other like idiots (which gave Jee a lot of time to see exactly how much the boy had been going through, and dear Agni the General seemed to have been lowballing what exactly the kid would have to deal with), Jee cleared his throat.

“Good to see you are well, Prince Zuko.”

The Prince parted his lips, and okay, yeah, the teeth were still a thing, got it. Then before he could answer Jee was pushed forward with the weight of a fully grown man-child on top of him.

“Prince Zuko , please stop sneaking through the ship like that, it isn’t funny!” Kai wailed like he was drunk, and wiggled around, trying to untie his binds because he probably wanted to hug the kid within an inch of his life, making Jee’s armor dig into his spleen in the process.

“Friends of yours?” the girl sniffed, and that was new. Usually the Prince would be trying to capture her, but now he wouldn’t even look at her, too busy staring at Jee, then Kai, then Hakado who was facing the other way on the opposite side of the circle but had turned at the commotion and was starting to yell himself.

His eyes looked fever-bright, scales blotting his skin the same as a blood splatter.

“Crew, actually.” Zuko opened his mouth and breathed in, like he was tasting the air, “Haven’t seen them since the North.”

A dark-skinned man walked up, apparently the leader, and looked down at Jee, “So? What will we do with them?”

Zuko turned to him, and so did Kai, “Listen Mr. Water Man! None of us even want to be here, and I’ll be spirits-damned if I get seperated from my family again. Whatever you’re doing, I’m in! Now untie me .”

The man blinked, then looked at Zuko, who seemed very embarrassed by what Kai was saying, if the familiar redness on his cheeks was anything to go by.

“...Those three are fine.” He pointed at his old crew, then turned around with a huff and stomped towards the still-frozen soldiers, starting to thaw them while the other men walking the deck tied their hands together.

The leader glanced down at them again before beckoning another to cut their ropes and bring the rest to the brig. Kai wasted no time in running towards their prince, draping himself over the boy in a way he would have only done after thinking the kid that reminded him of his little cousin was dead for four months before they finally got word of his and the General’s bounty.

The Prince huffed and whined and complained, just as he did before, a normal reaction to Jee but apparently strange to his new comrades if the glances were anything to go by, but the ruse was broken when Kai leaned back in surprise and excitedly asked when Zuko learned how to purr.

The Avatar awoke a few weeks later, when the eclipse was a handful of days away. During the time they all waited for him to open his eyes, Sokka had guided the ship to stop at a few Earth Kingdom ports on the way. Zuko wasn’t expecting two kids who carried the same scent as Jet and his friends, and he was more surprised when the one who towered over them all introduced himself as Pipsqueak. 

His old crew had also been demanding that he tell them what on Earth he had been up to since they all had parted. He didn’t know exactly which part they wanted to know about, so he just started at the beginning. 

By the time he caught up to the present, Hakado swiftly stood up and stomped towards what he assumed was the engine room, muttering curses under his breath. Kai looked awkward, like he wanted to do something but didn’t know if he was allowed. Jee was the one who sighed and stood, slowly, complaining about an ache in his knee. Then he focused his attention on Zuko.

“We’ll help you get the General back, sir, I promise. You don’t have to do any of this alone, and I’ll never forgive the Fire Lord for teaching you otherwise.”

Then, in a moment Zuko would swear he must’ve dreamed of, Jee leaned down and ruffled his hair, gentle around the horns nestled on his crown.

“..Yeah.” Zuko finally choked out, and kept his eyes on his boots instead of watching Jee and Kai depart, trying desperately to keep the tears from falling.

Then Aang had burst out onto the deck, looking like he was limping for his life, tripping over his own legs in his haste to escape. 

In hindsight, it probably wasn’t a good idea to leave him alone in a clearly Fire Nation adorned room without someone there to explain the situation.

A few of Hakoda’s men approached Aang, but they were dressed in stolen soldier garb, which certainly did not help the Avatar’s near visible panic attack.

It was the sudden appearance of the flying lemur that seemed to shock Aang out of his spiraling, clearing his mind enough for him to look around and notice that he actually knew most of the people on the ship.

Toph and Katara ran towards him with wide grins, saying things that Zuko couldn’t hear. All he could really see in the inky darkness of night was the group of friends gathering around the stumbling Avatar, excitedly chittering in a way that only came from days and days of wondering when he would be awake again. As they went on, Aang looked more and more unsteady, and the final nail in the coffin seemed to come in the form of Sokka donned in full footman armor, greeting his friend without bothering to remove the faceplate.

The Avatar tilted back, and Zuko winced at the sound of his body hitting the deck.

He came to a few minutes later, and was soon caught up to speed on what had been happening in his absence and what would happen with his assistance. 

Zuko was watching Katara help the boy to the medical cabin upstairs when Hakoda’s right hand approached.

“Have you decided yet on what you plan to do for the invasion?”

Zuko pressed his lips together, choosing to stay silent.

He had been asked earlier, when they were all still formulating, whether he would participate in the plan. The mere thought of cutting down his own men turned his stomach, but Zuko also felt that he couldn’t not aid the people whose ultimate goal was to get his father off the throne. 

The indecision stayed his tongue then, and kept it heavy up until now.

“..If I could,” he finally began, “I would like to try to free my Uncle. He was supposed to be Fire Lord, so he would be the man you want to replace the crown, and I know he would think of it as an honor to teach Aang firebending.”

The other rubbed the back of his neck, “I’ll pass it along to Hakoda. Will you be alright though? You know you won’t have your bending once we hit land, right?”

Zuko laced his fingers together, tried to ignore how cold he’d been feeling lately, like something was missing. The words from his dream echoed in his mind, not for the first time.

Then you will decide alone.

“I’ve fought without bending before, I’ll be fine.”

His inner flame had been fluctuating, ever since he joined the Avatar’s crew; some days it was hot and smoldering and impossible to ignore, drenched in his fangs and flooding his mind with buzzing instincts that made him view himself as a stranger, and other days Zuko didn’t dare try to summon fire because he feared it wouldn’t answer his call.

“Very well.” The man, Bato, Zuko finally remembered, turned to walk towards his chief, leaving the teenager alone.

Zuko looked up at the moon, full and heavy, and not for the first time wondered how anyone was supposed to deal with all of this.

Today was a flame-thriving kind of day.

Zuko was trying to keep to himself, wrapped in a red cloak and jaw clenched tight as his heart beat in a sporadic pace, pumping blood like he was about to go to war, like he was about to hunt.

He flexed his hands in an attempt to wear out the nerves, trying to ignore the weary looks those on the ship gave him. His old crew had asked about his condition, and they caught him just early enough that his tongue cooperated in telling them to leave him be, he would be fine. Eventually.

Everyone was eating breakfast, noodles that Kai had offered to make, something that reminded Zuko sorely of home, even though the spice was mild in the way the more northern territories prepared food.

He had eaten by himself so the others wouldn’t see the tremor in his hand as he tried to focus on holding his chopsticks. Zuko was sorely tempted to just say fuck it and eat straight from the bowl like an animal, but he was raised with some manners, so he made do with what he had.

He was almost done when a foghorn blared, cutting the atmosphere in half and leaving a tense residue.

Zuko whipped his head up to see another Fire Navy ship heading towards them, the horn signaling a request for correspondence. He heard Aang leap up and groan at the movement, and looked at them in time to see Sokka corralling the boy with the others in an empty cargo pit, out of sight.

Zuko raised his own hood, tugging it harshly over his scarred side, and tried to stay facing the ground. He was too far away from the cabins to make a break for it, and the other ship’s captain had already stepped foot on their deck by the time he pressed himself further into a corner.

The familiar tone of a high-and-mighty commander filled his ear as he listened to the conversation. The other chastised Hakoda for being off course, not heading towards Ba Sing Se like everyone else even though they were just a patrol ship. Hakoda tried to tell him as such, but was cut off with words that the Fire Lord requested all available Navy to focus on the occupation. 

The order made Zuko gnash his teeth together, gripping the bowl in hand tightly. 

The two muttered something about mixed up orders, and an Admiral that Zuko was unfamiliar with.

It was only when they separated and the other crew seemed like they were about to leave them be that Toph jumped out of the cargo pit screaming “They know!”

Then she bent metal and wrenched the walkway out from under the feet of the retreating soldiers and into the ocean, while Katara rose with her and summoned a wave large enough to push the two ships apart.

Zuko guessed they all had done some major regimes while he took a break from trying to capture them.

Hakado received orders to fuel the engine to maximum power, and they were soon zooming off in escape. The other ship recovered after a few minutes, and being more streamlined, rapidly gained on them. Zuko could see the telltale signs of catapults being lit and flaming rock soaring towards their hull, scraping her sides with no promise of mercy. 

Pipsqueak came running out on the deck with thick slabs of stones in his arms, while the Duke anchored himself to Toph’s back to direct and keep her grounded so she could focus on slinging rock back at their enemy.

The shouts and sounds of whizzing projectiles pushed Zuko’s adrenaline into overdrive. The bowl in his hands shattered from the force he gripped it with, and he barely took a moment to pick a sizable shard of clay out of his palm before he was racing on the rail of the ship, eyes glued to their pursuers.

He wanted to dive into the sea, dive into the air and sink the fleet itself for the act of aggression. 

Zuko had almost leapt off the bow of the ship before a hand yanked onto the hood of his cloak and pulled him back. He shrieked in surprise and spat in indignation, wondering why someone dared try to stop him from defending what was his, when they wanted to put a stop to his mission in saving his people, his Uncle-

“Focus, my Prince!”

Jee’s voice cut through his gut’s insistence for glory, making Zuko blink, shake his head roughly, then stumble away from the man and the rail. What was he thinking? He was just one man, he couldn’t sink a ship.

There was mist obscuring his vision, making it next to impossible to see where he was, where the enemy was, which helped a little in trying to unstick his mind from the growing wave of rage and shame that his belly was steeped in. His chi fizzled and his saliva felt like it was sparking.

“Prince Zuko, are you with me?” A hand landed on his shoulder, and he whipped around, feeling more blind than ever. He could barely smell anything past smoke and vapors, and could see even less.

Jee’s face emerged as he leaned closer, unfazed by Zuko’s snarling, “Are you with me?” he repeated.

Zuko bit his tongue in an attempt to ground himself, and gave a nod, not looking into the other’s eyes, but it was enough.

Their vessel cut through the cloud in a way that almost made Zuko jump, and the shudder of the ship almost undid all the work he just did to bring himself back. Jee ran past him, and he turned to see an engine on fire with Water Tribe men and Katara trying desperately to put it out.

“How we doing?” Toph shouted, clinging onto the rail.

“Things couldn’t get much worse!” Sokka responded, and as if the universe loved to prove him wrong, a great big serpent shot out of the sea behind him.

The dragon roared at them with a fury fueled by a grudge he didn’t know the specifics of, and Zuko couldn’t stop himself from slamming into the rail closest to the beast and screeching at it with a strength he could finally use.

The creature only gave him a cursory look over, ignoring his warnings of don’t touch and leave us alone and You will regret ever MEETING me. 

The thing reeked of not-kin and rival and enemy. Zuko could understand it better than he could Momo, but not as well as Appa. If he wasn’t so blinded with rage he would probably wonder if the thing was a long-distant cousin who couldn’t handle their body’s change.

Now, though, Zuko wanted the serpent gone from his sight forever.

The other ship threw a giant fireball right into the creature’s face, and that was enough for it to flare up with a new rage and set its sights on the enemy. 

Zuko followed along with it as close as he could without leaving the deck, spitting at the serpent and daring it to try and touch his territory again. He was inconsolable even as they sailed out of sight, keeping an eye where the scent of not-kin blew and pacing the entirety of the ship, spewing flame on steel to mark it with his smoke-scent. 

Zuko was so caught up in his misgivings that he didn’t spare a second thought to what everyone else would think of the behavior.

Sokka was having a day way too stressful for someone his age.

First he had to deal with consoling Aang so he wouldn’t out himself as not-dead in front of Fire Nation soldiers and ruin the biggest trick up the sleeve they had for the invasion. Then Zuko started getting all weird and growly and Zuko-y and was running around everywhere.

Then the spirits-damned dragon from the Serpent’s Path showed up out of nowhere.

Zuko screeched and yapped at it in a way that reminded Sokka of the times he would see tiny turtle-dogs trying to take on giant deer-wolves who wouldn’t even give them the time of day. 

It was almost hilarious, and Sokka probably would laugh if he wasn’t currently fighting for his fucking life.

When the whole thing was over, Aang ran off to his room to skulk, and Zuko didn’t turn off his roleplaying.

“If he pisses on anything, you’re cleaning it up.” Sokka said to the guy that always seemed to watch Zuko in a way that reminded Sokka of himself looking after Katara after Mom died and Dad left.

The guy sputtered and waved his hands, coming to Zuko’s defense, “He won’t do that!” 

A pause, “I mean, I’m pretty sure he won’t.”

“You’re ‘pretty sure’?”

“Hey! This” He gestured towards where Zuko was currently rubbing a cheek against the railing, then Momo who was sitting on it, “is new. We just dealt with the fire breathing.”

“Right, okay, sure. Aren’t you a firebender? Can’t you calm him down with, like, your own fire? Maybe talk to him through brain?”

“First of all, I’m not a bender, rude. Second of all, we are all not like that, and that is a hurtful stereotype. Third of all, shouldn’t you know what’s going on with him?”

Sokka opened his mouth before he could think about his words, “The first time we ran into him he was bald and half-dead. The last time he was working at a tea place and still half-dead.”

“Again?!” Another Fire Nation popped up, and he apparently had been eavesdropping the whole time because he joined the conversation without any problem, “Look, I told you Kai, I told you it wasn’t a good idea to listen to the General about leaving him be.”

“Hey, you say that now, but I distinctly remember someone mentioning how they always use their apprentice when they wanted to talk to the Dragon.”

“That’s different! The Prince is the same age as my son, how in spirits’ name could we just walk off that ship and leave him alone with that crazy old man!”

Now they were both arguing with each other, and behind them Zuko was scaling the lookout (without using the ladder, you know, the thing a normal person would use) and digging his hands into the metal in a way that gave the delightful sound of slate against steel. Even from the deck Sokka’s ears felt like they were ringing.

Dad pulled him from the two having their own conversation that he couldn’t for the life of him keep up with and said they were about to dock to resupply and eat, and he wanted Sokka to tell the rest of the kids. Since that was a natural Big Brother duty, Sokka went to go do just that, and only felt a little disappointed when Aang snapped at them for giving him a headband to hide his arrow with.

Okay, Aang was a little more than mad, it seemed.

Katara was sobbing, telling their dad that Aang had left and he had it in his stupid head that he had to save the world alone and that that was selfish and he left all of them and she missed him and why did dad have to do all those things too -

It, well, it got a little emotional after that.

The rain was heavy, and the waves were choppy, and they had no choice but to wait till morning before they could try to look for him.

Halfway through a sleepless night, watching his sister do nothing but stare at the sea with a cloudy gaze, Sokka came to a decision.

“I think we should split for now and meet back up the day of the invasion.” he told his Dad after rousing him from slumber. Hakoda rubbed his face and sat up from his cot, taking a moment to look at Sokka like he was trying to find something.

“Are you sure, son?” he finally said.

Sokka nodded, “Toph still needs to train him, and we can keep up with you on Appa. And the biggest thing is,” he glanced down at his twiddling thumbs, “I think Aang just needs to see why the invasion is so important. Why he can’t redeem himself just yet.”

Hakoda breathed in through his nose, then exhaled slowly, “You’re starting to think like an adult, my boy.” He clasped Sokka’s shoulder, and if Sokka felt a burst of pride in his chest at the motion, it was between him and Yue.

“What about Zuko, then?”

Right, Zuko.

“He can come if he wants.” Sokka looked off to the side. To be honest, even though Zuko had helped them find Appa, and get the ship, he was a bit of a wild card right now. Sokka wasn’t sure if he could protect everyone on the off chance that the fire bender would lose control of his weird dragon thing and start trying to eat everyone.

“Sokka.” Dad’s voice brought his gaze back forward, “We can house the prince if need be. But, and this is my humble opinion, the sooner the Avatar knows how the Fire Lord fights, the better, and as horrible as this is to say, that boy probably knows how Ozai battles more than most.”

“What do you mean?” Sokka asked, and felt a sick pit form in his stomach when his Dad looked away this time, gesturing towards his left eye. “His scar? What does his scar have to do with the Fire Lord?”

“I had..heard some things, at a few of the more western pubs. A woman told me that their publicity wing had gained a substantial bonus right after the Prince was banished. I’m sure you can figure the rest out.” Dad finally stated, and Sokka could, but he didn’t want to, but Dad left no more room for another word, and when Sokka closed the door and stood in the dark hallway he touched the thin skin below his own eye and tried to think about how mad a person would have to be to sear their own child like that.

When morning broke and Zuko seemed a little more human, Sokka told him the plan and asked if he wanted to join.

“Are you sure?” he sounded doubtful, and the meaningful glances at his skin and hands told Sokka of his concerns.

“It’ll be fine, we all need disguises anyway, and you have valuable information Aang desperately needs.” Sokka paused, “I mean, we still need to find him first.”

Zuko shifted on his feet, playing with his hands, and he acted absolutely nothing like the angry kid that chased them from the South to the North or the weather-beaten kid that brought them to Appa within a day.

“He went North.”

“What?”

“I can, ah, I can smell his scent. On the rails. He leapt off the starboard side. The trail ends after a bit, but…” Zuko nervously glanced at him, “Can you not smell it?”

“Dude, no offense, but I don’t think anyone can. Except maybe Momo.”

“Really? Aren’t we the same age? You really can’t smell it?”

Sokka was reminded of Uncle Fire Nation telling them something about dragon gifts, and the time he caught Zuko purring in a sunspot three days into their trip, 

“You know what, let’s put a pin in that. How about we just go and find Aang.”

They had managed to find a clothesline that held something to wear for all of them.

Zuko had kept his cloak from the ship, along with a long fitted mask that was part of an espionage uniform left in the corner of the cargo hold, probably leftovers from an old passenger. It covered his face up to his nose, and along with the silk hood of the cloak, it was enough to cover Zuko’s more recognizable imperfections. 

The rest of the group separated from Aang when he declined joining them in dining at a meat specialty shop, saying he would just dumpster-dive for lettuce instead. Zuko couldn’t tell if he was kidding or not.

He tugged his mask down to his neck so he could eat, and only got a few bites of hippo-cow in before Toph kicked him in the shin to get his attention.

“Hey, you haven’t said a word since we landed. You even let Aang call everyone hotman like some kind of psychopath, spill it.”

He hastily swallowed, “Sorry, I’ve just been thinking about stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

Zuko picked up his rice bowl, fluffing it a little with his chopsticks as he thought of an answer.

“Um, some things had happened back in Ba Sing Se, and I don’t really know what I’m supposed to do. Uncle would know, but he’s not here, so.”

“Well, hey, I’m blind, not deaf. I can lend an ear whenever you want.” She kicked him again, gentler this time, “But in return you have to spar with me when I want.”

She sounded a lot like Azula when she said that, but her words felt different from a threat.

“Also, I don’t know what’s going on between you and Katara, but you should probably patch it up soon, otherwise it’s gonna be awkward the rest of the trip. Trust me.”

Zuko chanced a glance at the Water Tribe siblings; Sokka was trying to pass off his side of vegetables to his sister, and she was angrily shoving them back. Toph was right though, Katara had been acting very strange for a while, but Zuko didn’t think it was his place to question her.

“Maybe.” he finally conceded.

Toph huffed, then slammed her chopsticks down, “Alright! Sparky, Snoozles, let’s see who can down 20 bowls first.”

“Toph, we don’t have that kind of money!” Katara reprimanded, and as if on cue, their waiter came by and offered a promotion where if they managed to finish a giant beef bowl in under 30 minutes, the entire table’s meal was free.

“Hell yeah we’re doing that! Four bowls, please!”

“Sokka!” Katara hissed, but she was outnumbered. Zuko didn’t speak up the whole time, unsure of what to say, but when they finally brought the bowls out, heaped with thin slices of beef and red spice, his stomach spoke for him.

Apparently, one of the best ways to get on someone’s good side was to make something they wanted free.

Toph came very close to victory, but the giant wall of rice ultimately became her downfall. Sokka only made a dent before he waved a white flag, and Katara didn’t even try at all, spending the majority of the time with her head in her hands.

Zuko was the only one who polished off the giant bowl that held what looked like 15 servings of meat and rice. He tried to remember his manners in the beginning and not rush, but when the halfway point hit both Toph and Sokka started yelling at him to put his back into it which made him forgo the utensils and just start eating straight from the bowl, jaws clamping on large mouthfuls of food and barely chewing before swallowing and going for more, losing himself in the frenzy of noise and cheers around him.

“Yes, that’s it! Eat, Sparky, EAT!” Toph was cackling the entire time, whooping in a way that drew the gaze of other customers. They were treated with the scene of a malnourished teenager with his head in a bowl like a starving mouse-mutt snapping up scraps, hands braced on the rim and raising it up the further down he got to the bottom. 

It took 18 minutes for him to finish the meal, and the waiter waived the bill with a dumbfounded look on his face while everyone else watched Zuko trace his fangs with his tongue like he was still looking for morsels, grease shining his chin and bits of rice on his cheek.

“Spirit’s sake, Zuko, wipe your face.” Katara finally spoke to him for the first time in a week and passed him a cloth napkin to clean himself with.

Embarrassed, he thanked her and swiped the evidence of his frenzied feasting, returning to the picture of a dark, reserved, and moody teen.

They all hung out in front of the restaurant to wait for Aang, then waited in the cave they were camping in after the owner shooed them off for loitering. He didn’t return until sundown, ash on his face and a bright grin at full blast.

“Where have you been? We’ve been worried sick!” Katara asked, and Aang told them all he was at school.

Sokka did not take very well to that piece of information.

“Why didn’t you tell us he snagged a uniform?!” Sokka swung towards Zuko, who was sitting by the fire he helped make.

“I had private tutors. Royalty didn’t go to school.” He sniffed, feeling affronted. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, you’re highness .” Sokka mock-bowed, then turned back to the airbender, completely ignoring Zuko’s bristling.

Aang told them about his plan to gain intel on the FIre Palace, and something about a secret river that led straight to the throne room, which must’ve been the greatest secret in the world since Zuko had never heard of it.

He also showed them a complimentary portrait of his Father, and the quickness and lack of warning made Zuko jump and yowl like a boar-cat, which was so humiliating he almost retreated to hide in Appa’s fur. 

The airbender apologized, and Sokka got weird about it, glancing at his scar before trying to pull the subject back to the river.

Toph fisted his tunic, and raised a brow when he turned to her. But Zuko was absolutely exhausted, his inner fire was getting lower and lower and Agni had long closed his eye for the day, and there was too much in his reaction to the sight of a mere ink drawing of the Fire Lord for him to even think about trying to unpack.

Eventually, Sokka agreed to his plan, and they all wound down for the night.

Then the next day, Aang somehow got in a schoolyard fight with the biggest bully in his school, and he needed parents, fast.

As he, Katara, and Sokka walked off to talk to Aang’s new principal, Toph plopped next to Zuko and started picking her feet.

“Anything you want to do?” she asked. The older thought for a moment.

“I could make you some tea, if you like?”

They had brought a small set, compact for camping, but rarely used. 

Toph shrugged, and Zuko got to work.

“So like what’s your deal? I keep hearing everyone talk about how weird you’ve gotten, but I didn’t know you in your ponytail era. Did you not have fangs before or something?”

“Uhm, well, it’s just a part of growing up, I guess.” Zuko said as he began scooping the tea leaves into the steeper. “Uncle always told me that it was different for everyone.”

They didn’t speak for a moment.

“Zuko.” Toph finally said, “You do know that no one else gets scales and all that stuff, right?”

“I mean, I’m older than all of you, so you probably just haven’t-”

“Ah, ah! No, I met people your age, I met people your age from the Fire Nation, what you got doesn’t happen to anyone else.”

Zuko could feel his hands start to tremor, “No, that can’t be right. My Father and my Uncle are like this, and my sister.”

“I guess you were out cold when it happened, but Uncle told us about this dragon gift thing the royal family gets. Apparently it only happens to royalty, and I guess Aang already knows all about it, because he wasn’t surprised in the slightest when Uncle brought it up.”

The tea was probably burning now, the fire getting hotter in tandem with Zuko’s rising panic.

“So you mean to say,” he wet his lip, tongue heavy, “that I’m just a freak? None of the people I asked were telling me the truth?”

He saw Toph shrug, and faintly wondered if she would be so nonchalant with dropping this kind of information if she could see what he looked like. He wondered if his appearance was the reason why everyone kept lying to him about his body.

“Listen, it sounds like what you’re dealing with is a lot more intense than whatever Uncle went through, or your Dad, because I never heard anyone talk about the Fire Lord scaling walls and stuff, which, by the way, sounds cool as fuck, I can’t believe you’re embarrassed about it.”

Zuko took the pot off the flame before it melted and set it on stone to cool, even though he doubted there was any tea left in there; it had probably evaporated. 

This was kind of a lot to take in, he could admit to himself. Zuko had a few doubts that what he had going on was normal, but he didn’t think he’d be the only one in the world who had to stop himself from growling at strangers like some kind of delusional thirteen year old. The looks made more and more sense, and he felt his cheeks flush in shame while remembering his stranger antics.

“I can’t fucking believe I sniffed Jet.” He finally spat out after wallowing in his own misery, burying his head in his hands.

Toph snorted, and he heard her shuffle closer, and felt her small calloused hands tousle his hair, pausing to run over the stubs hidden in his locks.

“Don’t feel too embarrassed, Jet’s dead, so you don’t have to worry about him bringing it up.” she said nonchalantly, like she didn’t tell him someone was just gone.

“Wh- dead?! What happened?”

“It was like this whole thing when we split up to find Appa. Don’t worry, he seemed at peace with himself.” She frowned, “Hey, do you have anything besides the horns and fangs?”

Her hands began trailing down towards his face, and when she got close to his blind eye, he couldn’t stop the flinch.

“Um, yeah. I have a scar. And, uh, scales.” He took one of her hands in both his own, guiding it back to her lap. She snatched it when he let go, and started pinching his nails.

“Can you talk to animals? Can you tell Momo to stop stealing my lychee-berry nuts?”

“He already knows you don’t like it, that’s why he tries to take them when you’re asleep.”

“You can talk to animals?! Holy shit, Aang’s gonna flip his lid when he finds out.”

When they came back, Aang told them about his plan in throwing a secret underground dance party.

“I’m not sure. Dancing was outlawed 80 years ago, and I don’t know if those kids want to risk getting in trouble.” Zuko warned.

“That’s exactly why they need it. These kids are the future of the Fire Nation! Don’t you want your future subjects to know at least a little bit what it’s like being able to freely express yourself?” Aang chirped, hopping around the cave to prepare it for a large group of people. Toph was bending a stage for the band Aang convinced to perform, and Katara was making ice sculptures to house refreshments. Sokka had started lighting candles, but after seeing him burn the wick of the 34th one with 300 more to go, Zuko decided to take pity on him.

“Well, as long as you know what you’re doing.” He conceded, giving a weak smile in answer to Aang’s bright grin.

Then Toph warned them of an approaching group, and Zuko had to listen to Appa complain about being kicked out of the festivities through his lowing and snorting, Aang’s assurances helping only a little to improve the beast’s mood. Zuko opted out of the party as well; he didn’t really want to be stuck in a room that would soon stink with a bunch of sweaty 14 year olds.

He settled against Appa’s flank, eyes on the moon, hearing the startup of drums and Tsungi horns from the other side of the stone.

Momo flew down to land on his lap, chittering mindlessly before settling down, curled tight into a ball.

Zuko huffed, eyes heavy, and gently ran steel-tipped fingers along his spine.

Appa grumbled, an inquiry, something close enough to how people would ask for another’s wellbeing.

“I’m fine.” Zuko settled further into the bison’s side, “You don’t need to be so worried about me.”

Momo spoke as well, but his words always sounded like he was speaking two different tongues at once, a touch too far from whatever Zuko was to be able to properly communicate without guesswork involved.

“I’m just worried, I guess. About Uncle. About everyone I had left behind in the Fire Nation.” Zuko shivered from the cold, a strange feeling to have since they were on the cusp of summer and the West was known for its humidity, and buried himself even more.

Appa blew air at him, tousling his hair, and nosed at his scalp in an attempt to soothe.

Zuko’s tongue felt twisted, suddenly, in a way different from the times he felt closer to whatever else lived within him instead of his humanity. This time his lack of words came from the strain of emotion tightening his throat and chest.

He couldn’t thank the beast with words. All Zuko could do was let out a rumble from his chest and let his eyelids sink in content, a soft purr forming unbidden from his throat.

If Katara was going to be honest, she didn’t mean to avoid Zuko for this long.

She thought she deserved a few days to get her thoughts together, at least. But so many things were happening so quickly that it almost became a sort of habit to pretend Zuko was more of a figment of her imagination than the newest member of their group.

She feels horrible about it, really! She’s always tried to make sure everyone in their group felt equal and had good synergy, and Katara knew she wasn’t being subtle about her problem either if the looks both Sokka and Aang had been giving her when they thought she wasn’t looking. 

But they didn’t get it, not really.

None of the others had had the face-to-face experience Katara had with the thing living in Zuko, after all.

She didn’t have time to dwell too much on it when she was busy trying to pull Aang back from Koh’s shores, but now that her hands were still and her mind was allowed to wander, the memory of whatever had control of Zuko back in the crystal caverns staring down at her sent shivers up her spine.

His random outbursts of ferality certainly didn’t qualm her worries either. With each chitter and snap that tore itself from the boy’s lips Katara sweated over if she should step in and restrain Zuko before he turned and started trying to tear them all to shreds like he almost did with his little sister.

Her avoidance bothered the boy, Katara could tell, and it bothered her too, but she didn’t feel brave enough to stop this invisible gap from widening between her and the prince she was barely friends with.

Sometimes, though, there were moments that shone brightly enough on Zuko’s humanity, something she had rarely seen even when he was still chasing them around, that let Katara take the smallest step forward.

The pain that glistened in Zuko’s eyes when he saw the state of the fishing village struggling to survive thanks to the metal factory polluting the river was one such moment. Katara could look past the serpent eye and fangs and barely-there horns to instead see a prince grieving for his people, something that almost reminded Katara of how she mourned the loss of the waterbender legacy in her tribe.

On the second day she donned her Painted Lady disguise and finished her rounds healing the sick, Zuko caught her.

“What are you doing?” he rasped, voice soft so he wouldn’t wake the others, eyelids heavy like he had just woken up. He had been doing that more, Katara idly took note of, a habit formed from her training with the Northern healers, that he seemed to be sleeping more.

“You know what I’m doing. I can’t just pretend that I can’t help the people here!” She gestured to the town in the middle of dark waters, “These people are dying because of the Fire Nation, we have to save them!”

“Katara, they’re Fire Nation too.” Zuko rubbed his good eye and stared at the dirt.

“I won’t stop you, but please remember we need to get ready for the invasion. It’s going to help a lot more people than just this one village.”

She looked at him with narrowed eyes and sharply turned to stomp behind a rock so she could undress from her spirit garb.

Neither of them spoke to the other the next day, nor the night after, when Aang was the one to discover her this time and offered his help in taking down the factory. Zuko was right, even though he had to be kind of a horse-mule about it; they couldn’t waste any more time in rendezvousing with Dad’s fleet. But if she could just do this, then Katara would be content.

So they destroyed the factory, stopping the pipes from dumping sickly brown sludge into the river in a feat of revenge that had her heart soaring.

Then Sokka found out about her sneaking out, then the people who ran the factory got on their boats to lynch the innocent villagers, then Katara started to feel like she did something that was almost too big for her to handle the consequences of.

Her brother said stupid, crass things about how she should’ve just left them all alone, and that was enough to get her moving, because spirits be damned if she was going to turn her back on anyone , even if she was the one who got them into the situation in the first place.

“Wait.” He tugged on her arm, “I’m sorry, okay? Let us help. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Breathing still heavy with anger, Katara looked at Sokka, then turned her gaze to the rest of the group behind him.

Tears welled in her eyes, but she held them back enough to smile and nod at her friends.

“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do.”

They set the stage up just in time to watch those from the factory set foot on wasp-moth eaten docks.

Zuko seemed more alert today than usual; Katara couldn’t tell if it was because it was one of his energetic days or if it was because he got to reveal his stunningly expansive knowledge in theatrics. He instructed Toph where to bang rocks, Sokka what notes to play on his flute, Aang what direction the mist should flow, Katara where she should take her place. He even told Appa how many beats he should wait before lowing. 

It was very bizarre, and it was something that made Katara see his human side just that bit more.

They put out the fire the soldiers set once, twice, a third time. By the fourth, everyone was visibly confused.

That was Katara’s cue.

She dashed forward over the lake, propelling herself with murky waves, and landed as gracefully as she could on the boardwalk. Under the cover of the mist, Aang and Zuko had snuck under the pier in case she needed help.

The large man in charge, one who had a gnarly scar slashed across his face, pushed his shaking subordinates forward, barking orders at them.

They inched forward, broadswords raised, and Aang summoned a gale strong enough to rip their headbands off and throw their hair in disarray in time with Katara’s glare.

(Later, when it was all over, Zuko would reprimand the Avatar for being two seconds late, in a long-winded way he only could have learned from his uncle.)

The two ran off, retreating further into the village, and the leader was starting to get nervous now.

Katara raised the water under the metal dinghies to her right, and threw the boats on the other side of the lake, making sure to maintain eye contact.

(“Confidence is important, Katara! They won’t notice waterbending if they’re too busy watching the performance.” Zuko spoke rapidfire, giving out pointers like he has been doing this kind of thing for years. Behind him, Toph had a finger lodged in each ear.)

The rest of the lackeys ran off to their boats, leaving their boss to fend for himself. The man grimaced, a deep frown marring his face.

“Fine, then. I’ll just take care of you myself.” He spat, and got in what looked like a firebending form.

(“Horrible posture. You could knock him over just by breathing on him. I bet he learned from one of those schools who make shit up just to get more money out of their pupils.”

“Zuko, please, go to bed. ”)

He throws a whip of flame at her, and Katara chooses to put her trust in her friends, so she stands there without moving.

When the heat almost reaches her, she’s thrown into the air by a current and an angry yowl echoes in the gorge, bouncing off the mountains.

Katara glances down at the deck when she’s still in the air after a few seconds, because what is Aang waiting for?

The answer comes in the form of a figure obscured in mist with flame dripping from fang, sunfire eyes glinting through the vapors and settling right on the man on the opposite end of the deck.

Katara’s fears come back all at once, because this is what she remembered from the caverns.

She’s gently set behind Zuko, and tries to remember her role, tries to keep her face passive. 

“A dragon? They still exist?” One of the villagers calls out.

“The Painted Lady has brought the wrath of Agni himself with her!” Another praised.

Zuko didn’t respond to any of it, just shrieked in anger and dug claws into soft rotted wood. He moved with the mist, not straying too far from the waters to give himself away, only reminding everyone of his presence with bursts of flame and hissing growls that seemed to close in on his opponent.

Katara wondered if now was her chance, if she should take this moment and catch him unawares. She didn’t want to fight Zuko, but if he tried to hurt these people, tried to hurt her family again-

Zuko tapped the floor with his foot, twice, and wind burst out just in front of him towards the older scarred man, throwing him off the pier and making him skip over the water like he was nothing more than a stone.

“Go, it’s your line!” Zuko hissed at her, and Katara remembered that she was dealing with probably the most dramatic person on the planet.

She traversed the waters towards where the man was floating, and using her best ‘spirit voice’, warned him to never return to the village.

She returned to the village after watching the soldiers scamper away, and gave a quiet, tired sigh as she landed on her feet. Floating above the water was pretty cool, but doing it for that long was very taxing on her meridians.

She nodded in thanks at the praise the villagers were giving her, until Dock raised a brow and looked closer at her face and realized she was the colonial girl he had been ferrying back and forth these past few days.

“She’s a waterbender!” he accused, and the rest of the crowd started to get restless, until Sokka stepped in and started defending her in a way that Katara felt like she didn’t deserve.

“No, you’re right. I am a waterbender, and I shouldn’t have lied to all of you.” she finally spoke up, “But I couldn’t sit back and let these problems persist. I shouldn’t have pretended to be the Painted Lady, but it doesn’t matter if she’s real or not. Your problems are real, and your river is real, and it’s time to do something about it instead of waiting for her to come and fix it for you.”

They stood for a moment, absorbing her words.

“What can we do, though?” Dock held his chin in thought, and Toph helpfully popped out from the crowd and suggested cleaning the river in an unnaturally deep voice.

“Perfect!” he snapped, then promptly switched hats, changed his name, and grabbed a mop, along with the others.

Aang’s head was steaming with an annoyance that came from not being able to get a read on the guy, and after he stormed off in a huff followed by her brother and Toph, Zuko stepped up to Katara quietly.

“Excellent performance, Painted Lady.” he crossed his arms, watching the people start to get to work.

“I had a good director.” Katara clasped her hat and veil in front of her, and looked at Zuko just in time to see a small smile paint his lips, fangs peeking out.

They didn’t look so bad like that.

Zuko was woken from a muddled dream where a dragon was curled tightly around his chest by a thunderous BOOM.

“Fuck!” he launched to his feet, memories of iguana-parrots and eyepatches and icy waters flooding his mind, leaving him blind with panic for a few pounding heartbeats.

“Zuko, you’re up! Come on, we have a situation.” Sokka barely threw him a glance, him and the rest of the group loading onto Appa with furrowed brows, leaving Zuko to blink in confusion before blindly climbing aboard as well.

“What happened?” he asked Toph, who was beside him.

“A meteor fell, I think. Didn’t really see it happen.”

“It fell in a forest, and we think the fire it made is going to reach the nearby village!” Aang offered a bit more information that didn’t leave him with more questions than answers.

Thanks to Appa’s hurrying, they reached the crash site before the fire had spread very far.

Katara dropped them all off before flying with Appa towards the nearby creek. Aang and Toph busied themselves with forming deep trenches to cut off the fire’s path, leaving just Zuko, Sokka, and Momo to figure out what they were going to do.

“Okay, I’ll…use Boomerang? Will that help?” Sokka asked, Zuko just looked at him, then at Momo, then decided that there were enough people working on the problem, they probably didn’t need his help.

“What the-hey! Zuko, wake up man!” Sokka nudged his shoulder with his toe, and Zuko responded by rolling onto his side and dozing off. “Help a little! Aren’t you a firebender, can’t you extinguish it?!”

“Flame t’big, energy needs to go somewh’re. Good n’ght.” Zuko mumbled out, and then he was out again, the warmth of the fire lulling him to sleep like a mother’s embrace.

His team was rightfully pissed off when he woke up again.

“Glad you could return to the land of the living with us, your royal highness.” Toph snarked as soon as he opened his eyes. He didn’t really get how she could tell when he was awake, but it probably had something to do with his heartbeat.

“Are you okay, Zuko? You aren’t sick or anything, are you?” That was Aang, who had a furrow in his brow.

“No, I’m sorry. I just kind of figured you guys had everything under control.” Zuko felt warmth on his cheeks as he admitted this, looking down at his lap instead of the judging eyes of his team.

“Let me look just in case.” Katara stepped up, flask already uncorked.

Zuko let her approach with water-ringed hands, and only tensed a little at the feeling of cool liquid on his temples.

“Hm, you’re a little cold, but that’s all I can really feel.”

“How are you cold? I feel like I could take my skin off and still be sweating.” Sokka raised a brow.

“Well he’s a dragon, isn’t he? Maybe that’s it.” Toph picked at something between her teeth, then rose to her feet. “C’mon, now that Snoozles No. 2 is awake I’m starving, let’s get some grub.”

They all chose a food stall near the edge of town, and apparently while Zuko was down for the count Sokka had worked himself into a sort of funk.

“You guys don’t get it, I can’t move stuff or make stuff or make stuff move stuff, I’m just the regular guy in the group.” he had said with a sorrowness in his tone, and it made Zuko think about how he fell into a habit of always comparing himself to his sister back home, echoing his tutors and his father’s reprimands in his mind every time he couldn’t master a kata quite quick enough to be impressive.

They all stayed quiet to let Sokka speak, and eventually Katara moved to sit beside him.

“I hope you know none of us see you like that. And hey, I think I know something that can help you feel better.”

Which had led them all to a weapons shop for Sokka to browse with glee, trying out steel that was deadly in his novice hands. Zuko already had had to pull Toph out of the way when he tripped and accidentally threw a javelin into the wall. Now she stuck by him, a frown on her face, angry that she couldn’t wander off on her own but not angry enough to risk losing a clean five inches of skull.

Zuko watched Sokka handle the dao swords like they were paring knives, and couldn’t help the colorful curse under his breath.

“Wow, Sparky’s got some heat on his tongue.”

“I lived with sailors, what did you expect?”

“Hey,” Toph pulled on his cloak, “Tell me about that. Living on a boat for three years sounds like it sucks balls, but how was it?”

“It sucked balls.” Zuko sighed, then rubbed his bad eye gently; it stung in a way that came from being too dry. “Um, there were a few times when we almost died, and I think more times where it was just me almost dying, but I can’t really remember the specifics for a lot of them.”

“Did your crew know about your scaliness?”

“I guess? If it was as obvious as you guys made it sound, I guess they were just too afraid of getting thrown overboard to say anything.” He yawned.

“Your heartbeat’s been real slow today, did you know that?”

“Thanks for telling me.” He looked over at their friends, now grouped together in front of a sword that had a coiled dragon along the sheathe, and the shop owner happily giving them a history lesson that he missed most of.

Whatever it was about, it must’ve been impressive, because Sokka then said he would talk to the swordmaster who made the blade in his hands with a determined glint in his eye.

At the end of the day, one where Zuko spent most of his time napping in the sun with Momo curled into his stomach while the others sat around at a loss with themselves now that Sokka was gone, the boy finally came back to a barrage of his friends telling him about how they all missed him and begging him to say something funny, because they had all come to the mortifying conclusion that no one at the camp could tell a joke to save their lives.

Confusion formed on Sokka’s face for a moment before he shook it away and asked them all for help. He mentioned how his new master wanted him to forge his own sword and he wanted to use the meteorite as the base, but he couldn’t move it without their assistance.

Everyone agreed heartily, and Zuko was dragged out of his nap with an insistent tug on his elbow and threats of rocks falling on his face if he didn’t get up and join them.

Being the tallest, he was put right at the back of the meteor, and pushed in tandem with Toph’s earthbending to keep the rock from rolling down the increasingly familiar mountain they were all climbing.

It was embarrassing to admit it took a while to realize, but as Zuko grew more and more awake, and the road felt more and more familiar, he finally had an inkling as to who exactly was teaching Sokka how to fight.

“Uhm, Sokka, what did you say this guy’s name was again?” he asked right after the boy knocked on ornate wooden doors.

“Weren’t you paying attention to anything happening today? I’m learning under the world-famous Master Piandao!”

Then right on cue, Zuko’s old sword fighting master opened the doors, revealing himself.

What the fuck.

“What the fuck.” Zuko breathed, then had half a mind to actually hide himself behind the meteor, because holy shit it was Piandao, and he knew him, and Zuko was absolutely not supposed to be in the Fire Nation right now.

“Well well, I’d recognize that unbrushed mop of hair anywhere.” he heard the man harumph, but Zuko still prayed to any spirit out there that he was talking about Toph instead.

But, sadly, his hopes were dashed near immediately when his old Master’s face suddenly leaned down towards his own, meeting eyes he was desperately keeping glued to the path a moment ago.

Zuko swallowed, then tugged his hood further over his face and looked away, coughing.

“It’s nice to meet you for the first, uh, the first time, sir.” He tried to deepen his voice, but apparently that did shit, because all that he got out of it was Piandao looking at him like a disappointed grandfather (something he was very familiar with.)

“Well, I see some things have happened since we last saw each other, Prince Zuko.” the man sighed, then gave Sokka directions on where to put his meteor.

He was led towards the furnace, while the rest of them were sent to one of the rooms meant for receiving guests. 

Zuko fidgeted nervously the whole time, twisting his fingers together and biting his lip out of habit, only stopping when he accidentally nicked his tongue.

“Now,” it was only a few hours later when the man made an appearance, “I can make a few guesses as to why you are here in Fire Nation territory, but what I would really like to know is what’s happened to you since you left.”

The others stayed silent, staring at him with encouragement.

Zuko fisted his cloak, wrapped tightly around himself, and started telling his former master about how Azula ended up hunting them and how they snuck into Ba Sing Se and how ever since Uncle was taken he’d been feeling more and more like he was stuck in a dream.

He was just telling Piandao about the ice in his veins when the man held a hand up.

“Tell me about when you lost your memory. That sounds like it was the catalyst of all your recent ailments.”

He paused, opened his mouth, started speaking, stopped, licked his lips and tried again.

“While Uncle and I were on the run I started…spacing out? I don’t really know, I thought I was just dying, but eventually there would be gaps in my memory or times where I’d be too deep in my own head to act normal.”

He thought for a moment, trying to remember.

“I fell into a fever just before Uncle and I got separated, and during it I had nightmares about my future and my honor. It was all pretty confusing, and I remember wishing that all these things that were happening to me wouldn’t happen to me, and when I woke up I felt…normal. But I couldn’t remember anything that had happened for the past few years. By the time I really came to I was with the Avatar.”

Piandao stroked his beard, “Your Uncle had told me about this Dragon’s Gift your family possesses. Your inheritance in particular seems very severe.” He took a sip of his tea.

“Have you considered that right now, your spirit is currently trying to split itself into two?”

“Two? Spirits can do that?” Katara piped up, looking towards Aang who shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.

“I had seen it, once, during my time in the army. There was a woman who had become spirit-touched after she had almost died. The spirit wanted to lock away all the traumatic things she had endured, but did not realize that without those things she would not be who she was. Human beings do not always experience positive moments, after all.

As a result, she would go days at a time not remembering any of her comrades, and eventually she lost her life in battle after forgetting how to redirect flame.” The older man sighed.

Zuko felt colder and colder the longer the story went on, shivering by the end of it.

“What am I supposed to do, then? I haven’t forgotten anything, what does it want from me?”

“I would think you would already know the answer to that.” Piandao stood, looking out towards the setting sun.

“I must go and check on my pupil, please excuse me.”

Aang turned to Zuko after the sword master left.

“Hey, Zuko, is there anything we can do to help? You know you can count on us.”

Zuko didn’t respond outside of a shrug, running a hand through his hair and feeling a spark of annoyance when it snags on his stupid horns.

“I just need to find Uncle, he probably knows what’s going on.”

“If you’re sure.” Katara said uneasily, “Come on, let’s go check on Sokka too.”

Zuko followed, and was silent the rest of the night.

Father was not pleased about the news of Zuko’s desertion. 

Azula told him of the Avatar’s demise which thrilled him, but then she had to go and open her mouth and tell him about how Zuko was different and darker and weird now. He didn’t look like Father, or Uncle, he looked like a monster.

The irony would be sweet as wine if Mother was here to witness it.

But she isn’t and Zuko is somewhere in a cave eating rat-hares probably, and Uncle is locked up in a tiny cell, reduced to nothing but a sniveling old man.

Father asked about Zuko’s gifts in more detail, and his face grew darker and darker as he seemed to realize that Azula had a lot more things to list than he expected.

“That cretin, acting as if he’s Agni’s Chosen!” the Fire Lord hissed, and the wall of flame flared accordingly with his mood.

Azula stayed kneeling, trying her best to not move, nervously tonguing the new thin fangs tucked away in her mouth.

Idly, she wondered if they carried venom.

“You have done well, my daughter, for taking care of the Avatar.” Father finally calmed down, leaning back in his throne and resting his piercing gaze on Azula’s back.

“But now, I have a new quest for you.” She finally raised her head at this.

“Bring back your traitorous brother, and lay him at my feet, so that I might test how favorable a gaze Agni truly blesses him with.”

Azula felt her painted lips curl into a cruel smile, mirroring the man in front of her.

“As my Lord commands it.”

There had been whispers, lately, first in pubs and then in markets and then in homes, about a rogue dragon roaming the Fire Nation.

Everyone had been taught that dragons were the first fire benders, that they had worked out how to speak with Agni’s gift so fluently that it resided in their lungs, ready to use as soon as they’re born.

Then they changed from something revered to something hunted. What better way to prove your mastery than to kill your teacher? With Sozin’s rule came the downfall of the serpents, and no one had seen hide nor scale of a dragon ever since Crown Prince Iroh felled the last of the beasts.

A few of the more brave whispered that they were facing famines and disasters and wealth gaps because the gods were punishing them for annihilating Agni’s servants. A smaller few even dared to say that Agni hadn’t wished for this war at all.

“Maybe we’re the bad guys?” A few children would think after hearing stories of what their fathers would do to other people’s fathers, how they couldn’t really say anything anymore without their mothers sharply shushing them with death grips on their arms.

100 years into the war, and most of the Fire Nation have become numb to the constant rationing, the never-ending drafting, the nobles who lined their pockets with blood.

Everyone had forgotten about the banished prince when the first whispers of rumor began.

It started when a haggard woman was crying into her rice wine for the nth time, telling all who would listen about a boy she lived with who doused himself in flame, who deemed her worthless in one breath and saved her life almost at the cost of his own in another.

She would tell those who were willing to stay after that about how one night after they received news of a division full of rookies being slaughtered she had caught the boy with tears down one unburnt side, flame heaving from his throat with each sob.

If they managed to stick around through her blubbering, they would be rewarded with the juiciest bit of information in the tale.

“Agni’s Chosen, he is! An’ the Fire Lord brands him like a cod-sow, just for trying to save lives.”

“How do you know he’s Chosen?” someone who would never be named would ask, and the woman would grin and clench her teeth like she just tasted something bad,

“Because he’s a dragon, of course!”

This rumor didn’t leave the taverns for months, and was witness to those who would listen with ears both unfamiliar and there to see it themselves.

Then one day a fishmonger, a man with distant family who had fled Ba Sing Se, told his customers something to keep them around his stall.

“They say a dragon was spotted behind the great walls.”

“No!” the housewives would gasp, and their children, bored from being taken along for errands, would lean in with a sparkle in their eye and beg the fisherman for more. They had never seen dragons, not real ones with flesh and bones and blood. All they knew were the kinds for festivals and bedtimes.

“It’s true! Apparently he’d been traveling straight through the Earth Kingdom, there were soldiers who deserted to our side telling a fourth cousin of mine who works as a naval clerk who told my sister who wrote me that down in the desert some ruffians were terrorizing an entire village until the dragon came to save them all. He blew the intruders away with one swipe of his claws but was chased out by the ones he saved because they didn’t know what a dragon was, how noble of a beast one is.”

At this part of the tale things become a little awkward, because no one wanted to think about how all those nobles hunted dragons down for fun and glory, and all they did was cheer.

There’s regret tinged in the air, as well as hope, because if the dragons are coming back that means there’s still a chance for change in their own homes.

Then a few more weeks passed and news of the beast had swelled until it was becoming akin to a folktale, something kids would pretend to be as they ran down the roads, careful to stay out of sight of the guards.

There was no more news, and the masses were getting hungry for more.

A break in the drought came with a mailman, back from his long commute to a village that he almost passed because he hadn’t seen the river so clean since he first started.

“They saw it, the dragon! Told me it helped the Painted Lady drive off those running the factory!” he told his wife, who told her friends the next day, whose children told their friends at school, and now everyone had a picture to add to their chatter.

They say the dragon had blood-red scales and fangs soaked in flame, with one burning gold eye; a pale, royal color that overflowed with pride and vengeance.

They also say that there’s a chance the beast isn’t a beast at all, but a boy; the spirit of the banished prince everyone had forgotten about back to reclaim what was rightfully his.

Theories and debates were what filled the noise of markets over the merchants' pitches. Coworkers would talk about it during shift changes, brothers would pretend with sisters, and retired palace staff would sometimes add fuel to the fire by mentioning one-offs about the Prince’s demeanor before his mother mysteriously disappeared and the current Fire Lord came to be. 

“He’s here to save us from this tyranny!” some of the more influenced would whisper excitedly. 

“What was his name, that banished Prince?” many would ask, and not many would answer. He had been gone quite a while, and there were so many royal members, it was hard to keep track of the ones not currently terrorizing them.

“Zhao?” one suggested, and was immediately boo’d for his efforts.

“Not the idiot Moon Slayer! It was something else.”

They would brainstorm and guess and get close, infuriatingly close, so maddeningly close that Rai would finally slam her hands on the table, startling Himiko out of her drunken stupor. That’s all either of them seemed able to do lately, is drink.

“Whuzzat, who’s there?” Himiko slurred, “is it my shift?”

“I’ll tell you right here and now what his name is, and I know because I worked with the scaly little brat.” Rai ignored her companion, who had started her rambling story about the boy yet again, almost in a trance.

“The lad you’ve all been yapping about this entire time is none other than the Crown Prince Zuko, Dragon’s Heir and Agni’s Chosen.”

By the time the news of the boy being in the Fire Nation reached royal ears, there were already millions more waiting to hear of his triumph.

Chapter Text

It began when Aang told them he needed to go to Roku’s village.

There had been an ache growing slowly yet surely in Zuko’s sternum, right next to where he could feel his heart beating.

(During the dark nights where he would lay in his own coldness, desperately reassuring himself that it was still there.)

It was tolerable, coming in ebbs and flows the first day of their journey. Along with it came a now-rare feeling of energy, at a level that didn’t leave him either gouging out dirt or passing out every three steps. 

At this rate, he might even be able to actually teach the Avatar something.

Zuko doesn’t really start to notice that his restoked flame had only been getting hotter and hotter until they had the run in with the guy Sokka was desperately trying to come up with a name for.

He was a brute of a person, nearly eclipsing the moon with his frame as he aimed a shot of white-hot danger run death at the party. The scorch he left on the Earth smelt like something that reminded Zuko of sulfur and his father’s lightning. It made his skin crawl and instincts scream at him to GEt out OF thERE.

But he could do nothing more than shriek an ear-piercing cry before Toph threw rock at their foe, Aang and Katara scrambling to blast gale and water when her stone failed to keep the beam at bay. Zuko caught Toph as she was thrown back from the explosion’s blast, and she in turn led him to where the rest were crouched for shelter as a barrage of steam rose thanks to the massive collision of water and flame.

By the time Aang had come back from his desperate attempt to distract the bounty hunter enough for the rest of them to make their escape, the stuttering in Zuko’s veins became impossible to ignore.

They arrived at what looked like nothing more than an island made from the blood and ichor of the long-dead volcano sprouting in the middle.

“Aang, are you sure this is the right place?” Katara asked, looking around at the soot and ash with a hand placed gently at the hollow of her throat.

Toph threw herself off Appa’s saddle and landed with a dusty thud, “There’s hundreds of houses here, actually. Buried under all…this.”

Zuko wanted to be anywhere other than here, if he was being honest. The ash at their feet carried the scent of pain and death, ancient as the island itself. He wanted to take flight with wings he didn’t have and smother himself with fire that smelled safe.

Aang had insisted that he speak to his past life on the summer’s solstice, which meant the sun was the liveliest it would be for the year, which meant that Zuko felt like he had thousands of bugs crawling under his skin.

He tried to keep it to himself, but somehow his friends could still tell he wasn't 100% there, if the pitying looks they kept shooting his way when they thought he wouldn’t see them said anything.

Spirits, what he wouldn’t give to have something to just gnaw on right now.

Aang settled on a crag with a clear view of the ocean to meditate. Zuko was able to witness the ghostly blue of his tattoos up close without having to fight for his life in the process, and soon after Aang’s scent lost something, like an ingredient had been removed, unsettling Zuko more than he was willing to admit.

“So, um, what do you guys usually do when you wait for him to come back?” he eventually asked after a few minutes of them all staring at the airbender.

“Well,” Sokka grabbed his chin, “usually we’re pretty busy trying not to die. I guess we could take turns watching over him?”

“Gonna be tough, Snoozles.” Toph said with a deadpan look.

“Right. Well, I think I’m going to,” Zuko gestured behind him vaguely, “take a walk. Or. Something.”

“Okay, have fun!”

Which brought him to 30 minutes later sitting in the dirt and dust with his head between his knees trying to take calming breaths, because if he didn’t he would tear his own hair out.

He had a building headache at both of his temples, and he wanted to run around the island until his heart burst, but Zuko stubbornly stayed put instead, focusing instead on keeping his fire under control. There was a sharp irony in where before when he could barely keep his eyes open he would kill for this kind of energy.

“You’re okay, you’re okay.” he desperately muttered to himself, trying to self-soothe like how the nice shopkeep from Ba Sing Se would tell him her daughter would do when the world became too much too fast. It didn’t help as much as she promised it would, but repeating the words over and over was enough of an anchor for him to still be able to feel the musty breeze passing by, the sound of waves hitting the beach, of Momo’s wings flapping in the sky.

It took another 20 minutes before he could no longer take the stench of decay. With grace more akin to a beast than a human, Zuko rose to his feet and turned to the Earth beneath him with flame on his tongue, spouting out short, angry bursts into the rotted soil until it smelled more like home.

He would be too busy trying to ignore himself to see the speckles of color in his fire, peeking shyly enough to be seen before being swaddled back into the neutral oranges.

It was dusk when Aang came back, and Zuko knew he came back because they all went to look for him and he had to deal with the mortifying realization that they knew he wasn’t okay.

None of them mentioned the soot on his cheeks, how he buried himself half under the freshly burnt ash, how his horns were a little more noticeable, how his hair didn’t have to be flat against his scalp to reveal their presence anymore. Instead, Aang brought him up to speed with what he had been telling the others, about how Roku and Sozin were the best of friends, and what had started the war in the first place.

“Oh, and also I’m your grandpa, I guess.”

What the fuck.

“What..” Zuko didn’t even finish his sentence; he was pretty sure his face was saying the rest of the phrase for him. 

“On your mom’s side! Which means I can’t help you with the dragon thing, sorry, but also what a handsome young man you’ve become, have you been eating enough?”

“I thought you said grandpa, not grandma.” Toph scoffed. 

The sun had fully set by the time they were ready to leave, and it took with it the overwhelming energy in Zuko’s body, leaving nothing but what felt like an empty husk.

Toph and Katara were fighting again.

This wasn’t new to Zuko, and was even less new to Aang and Sokka. They all watched as the two girls struggled against each other in the mud pit, hissing and snarling, completely ignoring their peanut gallery until Aang piped up.

“Does this mean training’s over?” he waved his headband, which he had been using like a blindfold, as he asked. This broke the stalemate, and Katara went to clean up while Toph ran out of the pit with a shit-eating grin, grasping Sokka and Aang’s elbows and dragging them off to town. She didn’t bother asking Zuko, and he would be offended if he hadn’t woken up this morning shivering and disoriented enough to have a full conversation with Momo before realizing he wasn’t talking to Katara.

She had checked him over, but commented on nothing but his low body temperature, which was nothing new. Zuko didn’t mind being the camp-sitter the majority of the time, but if he was being honest with himself, he wouldn’t have opposed going to town. These moments when he could barely keep his eyes open were the same ones where he felt the most human, the whispers in his blood to speak with embers and glide through skies and rivers nonexistent, his inner flame there but small, manageable. 

“How are you feeling?” Katara had asked, busying herself with preparing stew for dinner (again).

“The same as last time you asked.” he had yawned back, trying not to lose himself in the softness of Appa’s tail, the bison taking a nap of his own on the cliff they had camped on.

“Zuko, I’m going to be honest right now.” she put down the spoon and smoothed out her skirt before looking at him, “I really think you should start working on settling your spirit problem.”

“I’ve been doing my best.” Zuko huffed, crossing his arms, hoping he didn’t look like a bristling boar-cat like his uncle would call him whenever he denied things, “It’s a little hard to make progress when I don’t even know what it could possibly want.”

“Maybe it wants you to be the Fire Lord? Power and glory and all that?” Katara tried, but that didn’t sound right, so Zuko shook his head.

“Whatever’s going on with me isn’t what’s important right now anyways; we’re all here to help the Avatar stop my father.”

“Yeah? How’re the firebending lessons going?” she jabbed, and didn’t seem surprised when Zuko looked away instead of answering.

“See! Aang needs to learn fire, and your illness is affecting your ability to teach.”

“He doesn’t even need to know fire, he just needs to know how to fight the Fire Lord during the invasion.” Zuko spat back, hackles beginning to raise. He had been feeling so human earlier, too.

“You can’t even do that, you’ve been busy sleeping the entire time!”

“Wake me up then! You guys are the ones running around goofing off when we’re supposed to be meeting up with the fleet.”

“You!” Katara clenched her hands into fists, seething, then ran her fingers through her hair angrily and seemingly decided to just ignore Zuko instead of responding any further. She picked the spoon back up, tan skin whitening from her strong grip, and took out her frustrations on the broth.

Zuko climbed further up Appa, away from her and her sharp scent of anger, and settled grumpily between the beast's shoulders. The tense silence continued all the way up until the rest of the gang returned from their trip, laughing heartily and holding a lot more stuff than their allocated budget could buy.

“What’s with all this stuff?” Katara asked, baffled, and even Zuko was surprised enough to sit up properly to hear the explanation.

“Toph won it all from this guy in an alley being all sneaky sneaky with shells and cups.” Aang told them cheerfully, handing Katara an apple from the pile in his basket. She took it and looked at the fruit, frowning.

“Yeah, she won with earthbending!” Sokka tacked on, wearing a mustache, for some reason.

Agni, Zuko hoped it was fake, otherwise he was spacing out a lot more than he originally assumed.

“So, you cheated?” Katara finally said, and that made the other half of the group tense.

“Hey, I only cheated because he was cheating.” Toph snorted, looking quite affronted, “what’s wrong with that?”

“I just think you shouldn’t do stuff like this. It isn’t safe, and I don’t like it.”

“Why, because it’s fun?”

Katara took great offense to that, and made Momo her victim in an attempt to refute the accusation.

It didn’t really work.

“You really should be careful, I remember a nasty rumor about how if someone caught you cheating, they’d take the hand you used as payment.” Zuko piped up. He didn’t mention how it was Azula who told him, and that she heard it from Ty Lee, after supposedly one of the tiger-dile handlers lost his training hand due to debts he couldn’t pay.

Probably in an effort to stop her from harassing his poor lemur any further, Aang gave Katara an ‘Avatar promise’ about how this would only be a one time thing and that they wouldn’t do it ever again.

He was a good kid, Zuko knew that, but unfortunately the little girl next to him gave him enough of an excuse to not put too much faith into those words.

Honestly, Toph was sure that Sugar Queen was addicted to being a killjoy.

So what if they were scamming scammers? Lest they all forget, Toph was the victim first, it’s not her fault that she refused to play by their rules.

But no! All that hard work she gets to provide for her friends is met with ‘No, you can’t do that Toph.’ and ‘This isn’t right, Toph.’ and ‘Stealing is still illegal, Toph!’!

Then Katara had the gall to say something ridiculous like she was doing all this because she missed her stupid parents, which was the dumbest thing Toph had ever heard, and she had to stay up at night listening to Sokka practice one-liners in his tent.

So, yeah, she was rightly pissed, and now she absolutely refused to speak to the older girl.

They had been a day into the Silent Treatment when Sokka approached her and rustled a sheet of paper in front of her, telling her that he found something she wouldn’t like.

“Well,” she put down the stack of gold she was counting, “it sounds like paper, but I’m gonna assume you’re talking about what’s on it.”

“It’s a wanted poster of you.” Sokka clarified, and near where his voice was coming from was the shrillness of a firehawk’s cry. “They’re calling you ‘the Runaway’.”

Wait, hold up, that was fucking sick actually.

Sokka didn’t seem to share the sentiment when she said as such.

“Maybe Katara was right,” he began, and oh boy, here we go. Toph could smell the end of the fun-wagon as soon as she heard the boy’s words.

Luckily, she was holding some very heavy persuasion to convince him otherwise.

“Think of it this way,” she cut the boy off before he could talk himself out of having a life any further, “we’re securing necessary funds for the invasion. Which is super important, right? So here,” she handed him a couple of taels, “why don’t you go get yourself a map of the Fire Nation. Better yet, make it a whole atlas.”

“Well, I do like expensive atlases.” the other said, and Toph had to hold back a smirk. 

Too easy.

Katara found out anyway.

After yet another successful haul, Toph’s good mood had soured in a near-instant as soon as she connected the dots.

“You went through my stuff!” she hissed, “you complete hypocrite! All that moaning about not stealing, but I guess it’s perfectly fine when you do it!”

“I found it because I was trying to tidy up your mess.” Her heart rate picked up at the words, and Toph sneered. Another lie.

She was sick of all this hovering, this breathing down her neck she was always getting from Katara. Toph couldn’t believe she was the only one who hated all the coddling; Katara did it to all the boys too, even Zuko , the damn prickle-boar.

“Stop telling me what to do, you aren’t my mom,” she threw a hand out where she could feel the slower heartbeats of their peers, “and you aren’t their mom, so quit trying to act like it!”

“Wha- I don’t act like their mom!” Katara blubbered out, and Toph heard the sound of hair swishing, “Do I act like your mom?”

“Hey, I’m staying out of this.” came Sokka’s timid reply.

“Aang?”

“Oh! Well, I-”

“Stop rubbing your eye and speak clearly when you talk!” 

Yeesh.

“I’m outta here!” Toph threw her hands up and turned on her heel, “I can’t be around you right now!”

“Well I can’t be around you!” she heard behind her, but Toph was too warm with anger to bother pretending she gave a shit what Sugar Queen thought of her.

With a huff rivaling Appa, she plopped herself right where the vibrations of the earth stopped sharply, dangling now-blind feet over the edge.

Even without her feet, though, she could recognize that rapid-fire heartbeat anywhere.

“Leave me alone, Sparky.” she grumbled, not raising her head even when she felt the presence of another body joining her.

“Sorry, I guess I should’ve said something to Katara while you guys were gone.”

“Yeah, maybe.” she tsked, though it lacked bite. She felt Zuko shift nervously, and heard the clacking of his nails brushing together. He must be fidgeting.

“Calm down, I’m not actually mad at you.” she decided to cut him some slack after a few beats, huffing softly. She wasn’t angry, but she was still allowed a little revenge.

“Oh, uhm, good.” she felt him grab her wrist gently and push something into her palm. “Here, I saved you berries from Momo.”

She felt the anger in her stomach fizzle a little into something a bit softer, “Thanks, Zuko.”

“No problem.” he got up and awkwardly left with a soft goodbye. Toph clutched the pouch between her hands, running a tongue along her teeth.

She had enough time to think about how much of a bumbling turtle-duck the supposed oldest of the group was before it was Sokka’s turn to take a seat beside her.

“Do you think it should be taking this long?” Aang asked, for the third time, pausing just enough to look at Sokka and Zuko before continuing his worried pacing in front of them.

“They have been gone for a while.” Sokka rubbed his chin. Between them, Momo and Sokka’s hawk were warbling at each other, which was not helping Zuko’s headache.

“We’d better check it out. You coming, Zuko?”

“Yeah, I’ll back you up.” Zuko rose to his feet, rolling his neck a little to get rid of the stiffness.

“Good. You two, behave. Appa’s in charge.” Sokka pointed at the two little rivals perched on their food stores, and he got identical baffled stares in return.

Momo whined, something with the tone that Ty Lee would have when Zuko wouldn’t let her ride on his back like an ostrich-horse.

The firehawk was silent, but ruffled its feathers and pointedly looked away.

“Alright guys, let’s go.”

Zuko followed the two, throwing his hood over his head and raising his mask. Behind them, he heard Appa roaring in reprimand; It seemed like they couldn’t last four seconds without fighting.

When they reached the town, the air was unnaturally still, almost like all the inhabitants had been whisked away by some malignant spirit.

“Let’s split up, cover more ground.” He suggested. Aang and Sokka turned around to look at him.

“Are you sure? Will you be alright?” Aang asked, brows quirked.

“Don’t worry, I can handle myself.” Zuko huffed a little, and that was that. The two started off towards the town center, while Zuko opted to circle the outer ring; the group would meet up either when they found Katara and Toph or when they ran into each other while searching.

Zuko leapt onto the roof of an abandoned linen store, toeing the tile as he thought of whether he should start from the east or west before setting off. As he scaled over the homes and storefronts, mouth open under the thin fabric of his mask to catch any familiar scents, his mind started to wander a bit. 

All the talks earlier about Katara acting like a mom and telling them all what to do had made him begin to reminisce about his own mother, almost as a reflex. He hadn’t thought about her in a while, and the reminder had been unexpected, but the thing that had left Zuko with a gnawed on lip and a sudden consciousness of the ice in his veins was the realization that he couldn’t remember what his mother looked like.

Was this the doing of the spirit residing inside him? Was it taking away everything that had to do with his painful memories, including his mother’s face? He hoped to Agni above that this was something temporary, that he would remember on a day when it felt like his blood would burst from his pores because of the sun. He couldn’t bear the thought of forgetting the faces of his family. Zuko shook his head to clear his mind, he had a task at hand. 

He had just lowered his mask to better take in his surroundings when a sound below had him whipping his head and jumping off the roof towards the source. When he landed, feet quiet, he glanced around in time to see a shaggy mop of hair turn the corner of an alley between a noodle place and a packed up vendor stand. Silently, Zuko started forward, keeping his gaze on where he saw the stranger. If it was Katara or Toph, he doubted either of them would play hide-and-seek.

The alley was a dead end, and hidden poorly behind a crate in the corner of that end looked to be a shivering child. They made eye contact for a brief moment before the girl shrieked and quickly tucked her head between her arms, hands clamping over her face like she was trying to block out the world.

Okay, well.

Zuko could do this.

“Hey,” he began, already feeling awkward, “what are you doing here? Where is everybody?”

“A-are you the bounty hunter? Are you gonna kill me?” the girl shivered, still not looking at him, and Zuko felt a sharp wedge of unease make its way in the back of his throat.

“No, I’m just trying to find my friends. Can you tell me what happened?” 

She finally lowered her arms, but wouldn’t look at him, keeping her eyes to the dirt.

“All the grown ups said we had to leave for a little bit. They said that there were bad guys coming, and that the bounty hunter was gonna kill them for us so we could be safe. But Taizo told me that he saw the bounty hunter once and that he was a big scary man who said he was gonna eat Taizo if he stayed too close. But then I forgot about my Lei Lei doll so I had to save her because she might get eaten if she got found, but I couldn’t find my house and I don’t know where my Daddy or Mommy are and-”

“Okay! Okay, calm down.” Zuko raised his hands, cutting the girl’s ramblings off. Her breath hitched, small shoulders shivering, and bit her lip, clearly holding back a sob.

“How about I tell you where the exit is, okay? Would that help?”

The girl nodded, then shook her head, then nodded again, “B-but my Lei Lei doll..”

“She’ll uh, she’ll be fine. I promise.” Zuko held a hand out for the girl to take. It hung between them for a few seconds before the child sniffed and took it.

Then she actually looked up at Zuko, and a part of him felt withered and ugly when she screamed.

Shit.

“Wait! Wait, it’s okay, I’m just helping!” Zuko wrenched his hand away in a panic, frantically waving in front of himself, and only remembered that that probably wasn’t doing him any favors when he actually caught sight of the claws slashing at nothing.

“A dragon, you’re a dragon!” the girl screamed, eyes round and mouth open in surprise and-

And, she wasn’t running away.

“Are you the nice dragon? The one Mommy told me about?” The girl didn’t get closer, but now there was a strange sparkle in her eye, something that looked a lot like when Uncle saw roast duck or a new pai sho table.

“N-nice dragon? Uh, yes, okay, I am! Now come on, the exit is this way.” Zuko tugged his mask back on, beyond embarrassed, and started towards their destination, trying very hard to ignore the piercing gaze of the girl he was escorting.

“Oh, everyone is going to be so jealous that I got to meet you, Mr. Dragon! Hey, are you going to kill those bad guys for us so we don’t have to ask that hunter anymore? Can you, please?” she chattered, and the throbbing in Zuko’s temple got worse.

“Maybe.” he muttered, and hurried his pace when he saw the gap in the village walls.

“Now, look here.” He knelt suddenly, gently grasping the girl’s shoulder with one hand and pointing with the other, “That’s where the exit is. Does it look familiar?”

The girl squinted, brow furrowed, “I think so. I remember that tree stump! Oh, Mr. Dragon, do you want to meet my friends? I promise they’re all nice and want to be your friends too!”

“Sorry,” Zuko rose to his feet, trying desperately to not feel weird as hell about all of this, “I still have to find my friends.”

“Oh okay, I’m sorry your friends are gone. I’ll tell my Mommy and she’ll help!”

“No, just,” he gave her a little push towards the exit, “ go . Find your parents. I’ll be fine.”

He turned tail and definitely didn’t run away from the child at that, but he also didn’t stop until he was just a few streets shy of the village center. Zuko took a deep breath, wondering if he had just hallucinated that whole exchange. Was there someone else in the Fire Nation that was in the same situation as him? Did he get mistaken for this ‘nice dragon’?

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a mind-numbing BOOM, leaving behind the scent of death and the feeling of wrongness.

The blast was worryingly reminiscent of the bounty hunter they had all eluded just a few nights prior, and without a second thought Zuko bounded towards the source.

He arrived to the sight of Aang bouncing off the iron pec of the statue of his father.

“Aang!” Zuko shouted, fear lacing his voice, pushing his speed until he stood in front of the collapsed boy, shielding him from the view of the same guy who had been chasing them down all this time.

Honestly, it felt like there was some irony in the fact that Zuko had to deal with this.

“Who are you? Who hired you to come after us?!” Zuko snarled out, arms spread to ward off attack. His nose burned with the acrid scent of death and blightfire that rolled off the man in waves. Every fiber of his being was screaming at him to get out of range of the bounty hunter’s unnatural blast, but he clenched his teeth and held firm, praying to Agni all the while that Aang would please wake up.

He squinted his eyes shut and braced when all the older man did was bunch up his shoulders and breathe in, but instead of being blasted to smithereens along with the world’s last hope, he instead heard the distinct sound of water wrapping around a target and freezing with a sharp chit!

The man, his head now fully encased in a lopsided pillar of ice, stumbled away from the unexpected weight, revealing behind him the rest of the missing team.

“Katara!” Zuko shouted in one part surprise two parts joy, gratefulness nearly making him collapse. He tightly gripped the adrenaline in his veins before it could leave him a useless lump; they still hadn’t escaped.

“Get up, Aang!” Katara ordered the boy behind him, and Zuko looked under his elbow to see Aang shaking his head and blinking blearily.

“Come on.” he grasped the other boy’s forearm and dragged him up, not letting go as he followed the others across the plaza until he could feel Aang taking sure steps instead of stumbling ones.

“Come on, let's book it!” Toph and Sokka were just in front of them, the street echoing everyone’s desperate panting. Behind, Zuko heard the awful sound of metal smashing against ice and a deep-rooted snarl from their pursuer.

Toph skidded to a stop and whipped around in time to form a boulder to throw at the man just in time to intercept the blast sent flying towards them.

All Zuko registered was the heat of the collision, and the sharp whistling of destroyed stone flying.

Toph whooped, feet scraping against the cobblestone sounding in his ears until she caught back up with them, breathing heavily as she ran beside him.

“What did you do?” He panted out, and she gave him a clenched grin instead of answering.

He risked a glance over his shoulder in time to see the bounty hunter try to shoot at them again, one eye squinted shut, and deadly pops sounded before the explosion blew up in the man’s face.

“Hey, wait, I got it! Combustion man, how’s that for a name.” Sokka shouted out from the front of the pack, raising a finger like he figured something out.

“Were you thinking of a name for that guy this entire time?!” Zuko hissed out.

“He needs a name!” was all he got in reply before they rounded a corner and made their escape.

It was nearing the end of the day when Azula decided to finally pay Uncle a visit.

He sat facing away from the bars in the center of his cell, silent, his robe ragged and graying, nothing like how a dragon should be. Azula curled a bright-red lip at the sight.

“Well, well. I do you the favor of coming all the way here to tell about what you’re missing and I don’t even get a greeting, least of all the “Your Highness” I deserve.” She plopped down in the wooden chair offered by the accompanying guard, throwing one leg over the other and looking at her nails in feigned interest.

Father had been busy these last few days, speaking of an iciness in his blood that foretold the appearance of the black sun. Ever since she and her girls had come back from Ba Sing Se with a traitor in tow and intel on the Avatar’s movements, he was always off making plans and fallback plans, and his presence at the dinner table was starting to become nothing more than a memory.

She hated to admit it (or maybe she should be thrilled?) but Azula knew exactly what he was talking about. It felt as if there was a presence in the air that hovered over her shoulders, waiting for the right moment to tear away her heart and leave nothing but a husk.

Nobody had to know about this weakness, though, especially not her family.

“You know, Father’s offer is still on the table. He’d be willing to give everything back to you as long as you swear fealty to the throne. We know how great of an ally you are, Uncle. Even if now you’re nothing but a sniveling fool.”

No reaction. Azula clicked her tongue. The old snake always was hard to deal with without her puppy-rat of a brother by his side.

Then, she remembered something.

“Well, I can see you won’t be changing your mind.” She huffed and rose from the seat. Azula turned on her heel and walked with light steps towards the stairs that led out of the damp cellblock, passing the bowing guard and only pausing when she had one heel raised to ascend.

“Oh, I almost forgot, silly me,” she lowered her foot back down, “you probably want to know how Zuzu is doing, right?”

No response, again.

But, she still caught the intake of breath.

“He’s starting to make a name for himself, I heard. But ah, well, who knows if it’s him or that monster that took his skin last time we saw him.” Azula sighed and tapped her cheek in mock thought.

“Whatever the case, it is my duty as princess to ensure the safety of my people, and that includes you, Uncle. So don’t worry your wrinkled old brow any more, I made sure to hire the best in the business to hunt him down and bring him to justice.”

Movement. A rattling of chains.

Bingo.

“Of course, if there was any reason I no longer thought of him as a threat, I could always call off my little helper. But honestly, I think I’d be doing Zuko a favor by solving his problem for him.”

She chanced a glance over her shoulder, “What do you s-”

RUN .

Something deep in her belly pulled at her with all its might, telling her to get out of there now.

She stumbled, grasping the dark brick of the stairwell, nails screeching.

Uncle hadn’t moved much, only turned his head enough to give her a look, but the eye she was exposed to was radiating hostility, pupil so thin it was washed out by the royal gold she shared. The guard next to her gripped his pike in nervousness.

“I think that that’s enough now, dear niece.” he rumbled, calmness in his voice that wasn’t seen in his body. She felt a new kind of iciness grip her heart, and it took everything to stand her ground and quirk her brow in defiance.

“I see that’s what your answer will be.” she hissed out, and started climbing the stairs, no pity in her heart for the soldier she left behind to deal with the old man’s wrath.

“Then I shall make it my personal mission to claim Zuko’s head on a platter, just for you to witness.” She threw back after rounding the corner, the threat echoing down the stairwell. 

Serves her right for entertaining such a leech-ray. Azula grumbled to herself the whole way through the prison, stopping just before the entrance to take a deep breath and tuck away the baby hairs that had escaped her immaculate bun.

“Fine. Let’s just go ahead and destroy what hope he has left. Mai, Ty Lee.” she called, and her two faithful servants, faithful friends appeared in front of her.

“Go figure out the last place the neighborhood menace was seen.”

When the invasion was close enough for Katara to start to smell the anxiety off of her brother, they met Hama.

Telling scary stories around the campfire was Sokka’s idea. He said it was to raise their morale, but Katara had a niggling feeling that he just wanted to try practicing his storyteller skills before they met up with dad again. They had been through a lot more than any of them really expected to when they split, she could admit, and she knew it was a good chance for them to reconnect faster. 

Still, though, he was not very good at coming up with things.

“I think I liked ‘The Man with a Sword for a Hand’ better.” Aang finally said after the lingering silence that accompanied Sokka’s latest tale, something about a cursed blade.

“Water Tribe slumber parties must suck.” Toph grumbled, falling back onto the earth and causing a plume of dust to rise from the impact. Off to the side, Zuko was curled up, slumbering away; a very familiar sight by now.

“Wait! I got one, and this is a true story, it happened to Mom.” Katara suddenly remembered the tale her mother would tell her back when the nights were long and the winds were loud, when she would beg the woman to tell her all about what the village was like back when Mom was a child.

So she told them about the freezing little girl and the smoldered campfire, the desperate cries of a ghost who didn’t realize she was dead. She clenched her arms while playing the girl, shivering, and ignored the uneasiness that rose in her own heart as she told the familiar tale that had kept her up for weeks when she had first heard it.

By the time it was over, Sokka and Aang were trembling, and both jumped slightly at the sharp sound of Toph’s gasp.

“Hold on,” she furrowed her brow, sitting up. And pressed a palm flat against the soil, “do you guys hear that?”

The two in response glued themselves to Katara’s terrified sides.

“It sounds like there’s people under the mountain, screaming!”

After hearing that, Sokka huffed a laugh and unstuck himself from his sister and Momo (and when did Momo get in her lap?)

“Nice try, Toph.”

“No, asshole, I’m serious!” she insisted, in a seriousness that Katara rarely heard, Off at the edge of the light, she saw the shadowed lump of Zuko stir slightly.

The ambience of the woods was suddenly twenty times louder than they were before.

“You’re probably just jumpy from the ghost stories.” Katara placated, in an attempt to calm both the group and herself. Toph opened her mouth, probably to argue, but cut herself off and frowned instead.

“It just..stopped.” she muttered, almost to herself, confusion audible.

The group relaxed for a second before a wizened voice sounded out from the darkness.

“Hello children.”

They all screamed and scrambled for Toph who was on the other side of the camp, trembling behind her. The noise finally woke Zuko, who snorted awake and swung onto all fours, eyes darting everywhere and making the campfire rise in tandem with his breath.

Her name was Hama, and she was one of the nicest people Katara had ever met.

She offered them shelter at her inn, not inquiring once about payment of glancing at their admittedly ragged clothing. She was even willing to house Appa without question, thanks to an old stable she had out back for travelers, and the aura the woman carried called to Katara in a way that reminded her of Gran Gran.

They were all sat around her homely dining table, gripping spiced tea to warm their fingers, when she warned them about the full moon. How it dragged wayward souls into the very forest they were residing in and wouldn’t let go.

Then she offered more tea, and didn’t seem to notice the way half of the party looked ill at the news.

“Don’t worry, you’re all safe here.” she assured them before they all said their goodnights, and left them to choose their rooms. Toph immediately ran into what seemed the biggest room, Aang on her heels. Sokka was playing with his fingers in a way that told Katara he was nervous.

“Here, you can room with Momo.” she offered him the lemur on her arm, and he accepted with false nonchalance before slipping behind a door. She shook her head at where he retreated, and finally noticed that Zuko hadn’t moved.

“Are you alright?” she asked him. He had a bit of a glazed look in his eye, and it took her calling his name twice for him to respond.

“Yeah, sorry, just tired.” he gave a weary smile and tumbled to the nearest room, softly saying goodnight before sliding the door shut.

Katara furrowed a brow, worried for her patient, but decided to let him rest. 

In the meantime, she had plans to repay Hama for her incredible generosity.

“I’m just saying, it’s a little strange how she was so mysterious with her answers. It’s like she’s hiding something.” Sokka prattled as the group packed away the groceries, returning to the inn after a day of helping Hama with her errands.

“I just don’t understand why you’re so adamant about this. She’s a nice woman who showed us hospitality and let us stay at her inn.” Katara threw over her shoulder while she sorted out the root vegetables. The marketplace they returned from had been buzzing with energy, chittering about the full moon tomorrow. Katara couldn’t help but be a little excited herself; she always felt like she was unstoppable during those nights, when the moon was ripe and fat, and she could see its magnificence and feel its power unfettered.

“You know what, I think I’m going to take a look around.” she turned around in time to see Sokka walk determinedly towards the stairs leading towards their rooms.

“Wh-hey! Sokka!” She followed him, reprimands for his actions at every step. The rest of the crew silently trailed after her. 

“You’re going to get us in trouble!” she told him as he poked his head into an unused room, nose scrunched. He closed the door with a huff and moved on to a cupboard in the wall.

“This is just rude, y’know.” she continued, hands on her hips.

“I’m not finished, just hold on.” he grit his teeth after failing to open the doors and grasped the handles of the cabinet firmly. With a shout, he wrenched it open, only to jump back and unsheathe his sword when a cluster of puppets came tumbling out.

“Yikes.” Zuko muttered, only blinking when Katara turned to give him a look.

“That is pretty creepy, I’ll admit.” Aang leaned away from the opened cupboard.

“Okay, yeah, so she’s got a hobby. Big deal.” Katara gathered the puppets and pushed them back in storage, closing the door with a sense of finality. “There’s nothing weird about that.”

But Sokka wasn’t with them anymore; instead he was climbing a set of old steps up towards the attic.

“Sokka, you’ve looked enough!” Katara felt a flash of annoyance flare when he just ignored her and trudged on.

“She has a locked door up here, how suspicious can you get?” he pointed to the door when the rest caught up with him.

“She probably doesn’t want people looking through her stuff.”

“All that’s in there is a little chest.” Sokka peered through the keyhole.

“Ooo, maybe it’s treasure.” Toph said with a sparkle in her eye. Sokka perked up a little, then unsheathed his sword and started working at the lock.

“Sokka, stop it!”

“He’s doing it wrong.” Zuko leaned over to Aang, in a way that made the two seem like spectators to the event instead of participants.

“Really? How?”

“It’s better to use the other side of the blade-”

“Guys!” Katara turned towards them, causing the two to straighten up, just in time for Sokka to go ‘ah-ha!’ and open the door.

Sokka swiped the box and tried to open it, only to be confronted with another lock.

“Here, give me that.” Toph formed the metal of her bracelet into the shape of a key, and tried to get it open.

“Come on, come on.” 

“Hey, quit breathing on my face, give me a second.”

“Again, you guys aren’t being very efficient.”

“Zuko, why do you know so much about lockpicking?”

“That’s it! I’m leaving!” Katara suddenly decided, her nerves getting the best of her; she absolutely did not want to get out of Hama’s good graces. She took one last look at the clown parade and headed for the door.

Only to turn right back around as soon as Toph said she got it open.

“What is it?” Aang asked, and then they all jumped three feet in the air when Hama said she would tell them, waiting patiently for them to turn around and see her standing in the doorway. She had a grim look on her face, and stepped forward. The gang parted for her silently, Sokka offering her the box with his head hanging low.

Imagine Katara’s utter disbelief when what she pulled out was a genuine Southern Water Tribe comb.

Today was shaping up to be one of the greatest days of Katara’s life.

A real life waterbender from the Southern Tribe! She wasn’t alone like she had always believed!

And the kicker was, she even offered to show Katara a waterbending technique that she had come up with herself! 

Dinner was pretty emotional after Hama had told them all about how she was imprisoned by the Fire Nation and how she barely escaped (and no one could blame Zuko for excusing himself early after the tale was told), and the waves and waves of information had left Katara reeling with a flurry of emotions. Enough to make her stay wide awake in bed and stare at her ceiling as she felt the closeness of the full moon and the presence of kin she would have never believed to exist.

Now, as she and Hama took a stroll towards what she said was her favorite clearing, Katara’s stomach turned with nerves and excitement. The moon was at its peak, and she was about to get a personal lesson from a master bender, one who was just like her.

They had split with the rest of the crew at the town; Sokka wanted to ask around more about the disappearances while Aang and Toph were on medicine-fetching duty. 

That morning Zuko had come down with a sudden fever, one where Katara couldn’t touch his skin without covering herself with water lest she get burned. He had assured her it was normal for him, and that he would be fine after a day of rest, but Katara would probably rather ask Momo for medical advice instead of Zuko, so she asked Aang to stock up, leaving him instructions on how to give it to Zuko in case she wouldn’t make it back in time.

“A true master must learn to be resourceful. There is water in more places than you think, Katara. Even from the air we breathe can you find it.” Hama performed a move with an age-old grace and water materialized from seemingly nowhere, hardening into ice on her fingertips. She threw the daggers at a tree, leaving Katara amazed.

Next, though, felt more like a lesson on how the world was not as nice as it seemed, leaving Katara to watch as Hama sucked the water out of a field of fire lilies without blinking.

“Tonight, I want to teach you the ultimate waterbending technique, out in the forest, where no one will catch us.”

“Are you sure?” Katara asked, worried, “What about the disappearances that happen? Aren’t you worried about that?”

The older woman laughed gently, “Oh Katara, between two master waterbenders I think we’ll be just fine.”

Her words placated Katara, lifting her spirits to a new height.

“Zuko~! Hey, buddy, I got your medicine.” Aang poked his head through the door, tapping the ceramic of the potion in his hands. Sokka and Toph were currently on their way to investigate the mountain that they thought housed the missing villagers. Aang wanted to get back to help as soon as possible, just in case there really were spirit problems that needed to be solved. But he was the fastest out of the three, and the cover of night would hide his airbending, and Katara had been pretty worried about their sleepiest member.

The room was dark, with not a single candle lit. In the pale moonlight, Aang could barely make out the remains of a shredded up bed. His eyebrows in alarm at the sight, and he stepped more into the room.

“Zuko, hey! Where are you, hotman?” he cupped his mouth to let his voice carry. He thought he heard a sound to his left, and looked to see an endless darkness inside an open closet.

“..Zuko?” Aang really didn’t want to look over there, but his friend needed the medicine and Aang needed to know if he was dead or not, so he took a deep breath and stepped over towards the void.

“Hello?” he called, and didn’t even notice the shadow rising up behind him.

When the moon was at her most beautiful, Hama told Katara about how she killed Fire Nation soldiers using nothing but their blood.

“ What?” she gasped out, raising a hand to grasp her necklace out of habit. In front of her Hama stood, back against the moon, the clothes clinging to her frame swaying in the wind.

“I…I don’t know if I want that kind of power.” Katara finally said with a dry throat, the knowledge that someone could be forced under a person’s will twisting her stomach.

“Katara, it is your duty as a bender from the Water Tribe to carry on my teachings. You must learn bloodbending, and you must use it to win this war!” Hama insisted, and with every word uttered her hair looked a bit more unkempt, her eyes a bit more bright.

“We have to fight these people whenever we can!”

And the knowledge of the bloodbending and the full moon and the revealed hostility to those with Fire Nation roots made the dots connect in a way that Katara hadn’t even given any thought.

“It’s you. You’re the one behind the disappearances, aren’t you?”

Hama’s face scrunched and twisted, years of vengeance and agony etching more and more into her wrinkles, her teeth bared to the elements, “They left me to rot! It’s only fair I do the same to them.”

A sense of justice rose deep from Katara’s bosom, and she raised a hand to point at the woman, “I will not allow you to keep terrorizing these people like this.”

Then as if it had a mind of its own, her arm twisted in on itself and yanked her to the side.

“You should have learned the technique before even thinking of going against me.” Hama sneered, hands raised and pointed straight towards Katara as she desperately tried to hold her own arm back from gouging at her face, “Now you’ll be destroyed by your own incompetence.” She barked out a laugh, “It’s impossible to escape!”

Katara stared at the grass under her, tears spilling down her cheeks as she was awash with hopelessness. It burned badly, like all the way back when Aang had accidentally singed her hands. All she wanted to do was bury her head in the earth and scream until her mother came to tell her everything was okay.

That wasn’t going to happen though, and as Katara stared at the plants, she realized she might be the only thing that can stop Hama right now.

As if on cue, the rays of the moon felt tangible on her skin, offering silent support. Katara fisted her hands in the grass and slowly stood, glaring at the old woman in front of her as she broke from her grasp.

“You’re not the only one who draws power from the moon.” she hissed, and raised her arms to summon the water from the ground, flinging it at Hama in a rage.

They threw water back and forth at each other, the streams growing in size and quantity until finally Hama combined them all into one big jet and threw it at Katara in a howl.

What she didn’t expect was Katara parrying the blast and redirecting it right back, splitting it in two and throwing Hama to the dirt.

“Anything else to say?” Katara narrowed her eyes at the panting woman, focused on her. She slowly rose to her knees, glared hatefully under sodden bangs, and then raised her arms.

“It would seem you’ve been outnumbered.”

“What?” Katara blinked, and whipped around as an all-too familiar howling ricocheted off the trees behind her. A few feet away, just breaking the treeline, was Aang spinning as fast as he could on an air scooter, shouting at Katara to make a break for it before a blast of searing flame scorched the underbrush he had just emerged from.

“Aang! What happened!” Katara backed up a bit from the heat, clenching her fists as she scanned the boy for injuries.

“It’s Zuko! I can’t get through to him!” Aang panted, and it felt as if the nightmare was never-ending.

“What do you mean? What happened?” she pressed, and they both fell silent to the sound of Hama laughing uproariously.

 “Of course I knew who he was! You really thought I would just let a Fire Nation royal slip through my grasp?” she heaved out. “Oh, don’t give me that look! I only spiked his meal enough to weaken his spirit. Killing him should be a privilege done in the same fashion as the others.” 

“ Kill?! Wait, you’re the one behind the disappearances?” Aang stuttered out, and before Katara could respond a steaming figure stepped out into the clearing, growling and snapping and arching his spine and shoulders like he was trying to escape from his own body.

“Hahaha! Well, this is certainly more than expected, but it will do just fine!” Hama had a bloodthirsty grin as she suddenly gripped the air, and Zuko made a pained noise before twisting unnaturally, like he was being pulled by strings tied to his body. The boy roared and dove at Katara with a slash of rockhard claws. Aang jumped out of the way too, and dropped into a stance to begin attacking when he suddenly shot up with his arms pinned to his sides.

“What, what?!” His eyes looked around frantically, and with ice in her veins Katara realized exactly what Hama was trying to do.

“Oh how lucky I am, lucky lucky.” The woman sang as she orchestrated Zuko to lunge at Katara, Aang stumbling in tow.

“Sorry Katara, I can’t move!” he called out nervously, “What’s going on?”

“It’s Hama! She’s controlling you two.” Katara pulled the water from two tall trees to block a stream of flame aimed right at her. Behind the ice, she heard Aang shout in surprise, and peeked her head past the wall just in time to see Aang forced to stand out in the open with his arms spread as Zuko was yanked towards the boy, jaws opened painfully. He set short bursts of flame in the air where his head was wrenched, and yowled at the sky, scales glittering from the light. 

“Zuko! Zuko wake up, it’s me!” Aang shouted desperately, squirming where he stood, trying to resist the pull of his blood.

“Now, try to stop your two friends from hurting each other!” Yama cackled and threw her arms, making Zuko shoot towards Aang like a bird in flight, fangs pointed straight for his neck.

Right before they made contact, Aang suddenly dropped into a split, narrowly avoiding collision.

Zuko instead slammed into a sturdy tree, face bloodied upon impact. He stumbled, tried to stand, and succeeded only in falling into a faint.

The sight made Katara want to breathe a sigh of relief, and she would have if she wasn’t currently using every ounce of her attention on making sure Hama didn’t raise her arms again.

In the distance, she saw Toph running towards them, a group of starved looking people behind her, and she tried very hard to not think about how she unwittingly became the second ever bloodbender.

Zuko had had a very strange dream.

When he went to bed, bleary-eyed and listless after the meal Hama made and heart heavy after the story Hama told, he had collapsed into a fitful sleep that lasted until dawn, when Katara softly knocked on his door and told him he was burning hot enough to boil water.

Honestly, he would have these kinds of fevers a lot when he was younger, and he had told her as such, but she had just tutted and told him where everyone was going to be before leaving him to the dark quietness of his room.

The quilt on his bed felt heavy, and the whole inn smelt off, like he had been living next to a perfumery and a tackle shop. When Zuko had finally slipped unconscious, it had almost felt against his will.

His dream felt very hot, like he was standing in a volcano. He was nestled in the coil of a red dragon again, and he looked at the creature.

“What do you want?”

I have told you. It replied.

“Well, it would help if you weren’t so vague about it.” Zuko huffed. The dragon huffed in turn, and looked away. From this angle, Zuko could see a scar marring its eye similar to his own.

It is almost time. The beast said. If he stared at it too long, Zuko felt he would be overwhelmed with anger and flame and grief.

“For what?”

It is almost time. It just repeated, and spirits above, it was like trying to get Uncle to tell him a secret.

Suddenly, the whole area seemed to rumble, like there was an earthquake.

“The hell? What’s going on?!” Zuko slipped out of a loosened coil, landing on a ground he couldn’t see with a grunt. He looked up to see the dragon writhing and gnashing teeth.

What did you do?

“Huh?”

WHAT DID YOU DO?

“Nothing! What the hell are you yelling at me for!?” Zuko felt rage rush through his system. He could barely remember what this dragon was or how he knew it, all he knew was that he wanted to fight it now.

But before he could, the dragon vanished into nothing, taking all the heat with it and leaving Zuko with a bone-deep coldness that made him blink at his fingers and remember feeding  turtle-ducks with his mother.

When he came to, there was a searing pain in his nose.

“Don’t touch it, Katara just reset it for you.” Came Toph’s monotone droll from the side, and he glanced over to see her lying down in grass with a wheat sticking out of her mouth.

Zuko took a minute to assess his well being. Most prominent thing was that his nose did in fact feel like someone shoved it back in place. His ribs ached, and his palms felt rubbed raw. His teeth hurt and his hair felt matted.

He swallowed dryly before asking, “What happened?”

“Hama tried to kill us, you went crazy, we’re three days away from the invasion.”

“I see.”

Hm.

“Three days?”

“Yeah.”

Zuko shot up, and almost keeled over from the headache that caused.

“You have a concussion by the way.”

“Noted.”

He looked around; there were koala-sheep everywhere. Every time he looked at one it would get nervous and edge away. Sokka was pouring over a map with a deep frown, and Katara was talking to a drowsy-looking Aang. Both of them were holding a sheep.

“Where are we?”

“Zuko, welcome back to the land of the living!” Sokka waved at him, and Zuko waved back automatically. “We’re at the rendezvous point right now. Hey, you’re our resident expert in sleeping. Think you could give Aang over there a few pointers?”

What. 

“I guess?” Zuko glanced at Toph, but she had shut her eyes at this point, which was her sign for ‘don’t even look at me’.

He rose to his feet unsteadily and made his way over to Aang and Katara, who both looked weirdly nervous.

“Zuko! Haha, how’s it going? You don’t feel bloodthirsty or anything right now, do you?”

Ah, Zuko could see where this was going, “What did I do.”

“Oh, well-”

“It wasn’t your fault, don’t worry. Hama slipped you something and it reacted badly to your current infliction. She tried to get you to kill us too.” Katara cut Aang off, speaking almost clinically.

Zuko chewed his lip, because that felt like a bigger deal than what everyone seemed to make of it.

“Did I hurt you guys?” he asked, voice small. 

“No! We’re all perfectly fine. By the way, your dad doesn’t know some kind of secret pants-bending, does he?”

Zuko chose to ignore that question, “I’m very sorry regardless. I will strive to do better.” he bowed to the two, quirking his brow as he looked at his boots.

“Alright, enough of that.” Katara let go of the now trembling koala-sheep. “The invasion is in three days, we don’t need your head to be more muddled than it already is when we get there.”

“Right..”

“Hey, Zuko! Come over here, I want you to show me where that secret river is.” Sokka called for him, and when he looked at the two, Katara waved him off and Aang gave him a wobbly grin. It felt strange, how easy they were to forgive, and if Zuko smiled a little from the warmth the thought gave him, that was between him and the dirt.

The Day of the Black Sun was here.

After a very strange few nights where they all had tried desperately to quell Aang’s anxiety of the invasion (which led to arguments that Zuko had never even thought he could have. I mean really, Appa would never draw a blade on Momo) the rest of the fleet had creeped over the horizon. Sokka was buzzing around in anticipation, both to see his father again and as overseer of this whole operation. They arrived in waves, faces unfamiliar to Zuko that resonated with the rest of the gang. He stood off a ways, mask firmly up and hood obscuring his face. Most of these people he wasn’t acquainted with, but he was very much aware of their mutual hatred for Fire Nation.

He was watching Toph be swung around by a giant earthbender when he heard his name being shouted.

“Your Highness! Your Highness, over here! Prince Zuko!” a man was waving his arm furiously, trying desperately to get Zuko’s attention in a way that made him want to melt into the cliff face and stay there forever.

The man got smacked upside the head by the one next to him, and Zuko recognized that action of pinching his brow anywhere.

He hurried over to where Jee and Kai stood, desperate to stop them from drawing even more attention to themselves. The call of his name alone made a few of the recruits tense and look around.

“What are you doing? ” he finally hissed when they were in earshot. Kai just grinned dumbly at him, and Jee put a hand on his hip. Both were outfitted in earth kingdom armor, a bizarre sight that made Zuko blink.

“Don’t worry, my Prince! We made sure to run interference so everyone knows you’re part of the operation.” Kai gave a thumbs up.

Zuko turned to Jee.

“He’s telling the truth.”

“That’s mean, my Prince! You really don’t trust the words of your faithful crewmate?”

“Not you, no.” Zuko sniffed, and then snarled when Kai ruffled his hair in retaliation.

“Hakado is in a meeting going over how to operate the underwater vessel we’ll be using. You’ll probably see him later.” Jee continued, undeterred by the display of camaraderie before him.

“We have been assigned frontline duty.”

Zuko froze at this information, ignoring how Kai was now brushing back his hair to peer at his horns.

“You will come back, yes?”

Jee twisted his lip.

Zuko lowered his mask and looked at two of his crew before him, “I lost you once, I am not losing you again.”

And he didn’t know what on earth these two veteran soldiers saw in an unlucky banished prince such as him, but when they returned his stare there was nothing but confidence and loyalty as they saluted, “As you command.”

The reunion was cut short by Sokka blowing in like a windstorm and whisking Zuko away towards the stage where he would deliver his welcoming speech, citing that he needed all the support he could get.

Honestly Zuko was pretty sure he just wanted most of the eyes to be on the freak of nature instead of Sokka himself as he fumbled his way trying to get his ideas across. The plan worked, but not enough that people didn’t notice that it was a 15 year old that was trying to lead them, and that’s when Hakoda stepped in to raise morale back up.

The stares continued on until it was time to depart, and then everyone was too busy doing their jobs to bother worrying about a kid with fangs. He was stationed on a Water Tribe ship with the rest of the gang, and was staring out into the sea when he caught the scent of Aang behind him.

“Are you ready, Zuko?” the boy asked quietly. Zuko snorted a hint of flame through his nose before turning to look at him.

“Looks like you certainly are.” he glanced up at his newly shaven head. The monk rubbed the back oh his skull and laughed nervously.

“Maybe. Gotta look the part, y’know?”

“Yeah.” He turned back around, “I don’t think I’ll ever be ready. Would you feel confident in storming the Southern Air Temple to fight your own people?”

“Well, no, I guess not.” Aang hopped up on the railing and sat, swinging legs over the side of the boat.

“You gotta remember, though, we’re doing this to save the world. No one wants to become another Ozai.”

“Right.” Zuko snorted, even though he didn’t feel any better in the slightest. He sighed, and pushed himself away from the rail.

“Come on, let’s go over some pointers on how to fight a firebender.”

“Yes sir, hotman!”

By the time they made it to familiar shores, Zuko wanted to throw up and die from nerves.

He was pretty sure everyone on that beach felt the exact same way, but they probably didn’t also have to deal with the world’s worst family reunion on top of it.

‘ This is to save Uncle.’  he chanted in his head. Uncle was stuck in prison because of him, and Uncle is the only one who can help him figure out what was wrong with his soul. Uncle was especially needed to fill in the vacancy left once Aang killed his Father.

Against all odds, Zuko’s guts churned at the thought of his father dying.

They had all split to their separate posts. Zuko had his eyes set on the prison where his Uncle would be held, and was mapping his route the time it took between first setting sights on the city-town and setting foot on her beaches. 

“We’ll meet back here once the invasion ends! If things go south, look for Appa!” Sokka shouted one last time before diving headfirst into battle with the royal guard.

Zuko took off in a run, his usual robe exchanged for something dark and form-fitting, reminiscent of his Blue Spirit days. He scaled the rooftops of the battalions, dodging and parrying flame along the way. Sometimes, for reasons he did not understand, a soldier would aim fire only to pause once they spotted his face.

He hoped it was because of the scales. He really hoped it wasn’t because Azula was running around saying he was dead or something.

By the time he scaled the mountain leading to the prison and snuck through suspiciously quiet halls, the invasion was at its halfway point.

‘ Aang must be fighting the Fire Lord by now’ he thought wryly. Zuko opened his mouth, trying desperately to catch a familiar scent. As he descended deeper into the prison, his worry grew into alarm at the sight of slouched over guards and scorch marks peppering the stone.

“Uncle!” he called, forgoing any stealth in his panic, and rushed further in. He hurried towards the cells where high-ranking prisoners would be held, and took the stairs down two at a time, almost flying in his hurry.

“Uncle Iroh! Un-” Zuko skidded to a stop once he was in front of a cell that had a deep gash and bent metal, and a drooling guard limp beside it. Zuko grabbed the guard and shook him by the collar to wake him up.

“Where is he? Where’s Iroh?!” he hissed.

The guard blinked, then grasped the hands that were fisted in his shirt.

“I..” he gasped, “I’d never seen anything like it. He was a one-man army. A beast of legend.”

Zuko dropped the man with a snarl, and looked back at the cell. Uncle hadn’t needed him at all, but then where was he? Was he looking for Zuko? Was all of this just one big mistake? Zuko fisted his hair and shouted in frustration. He stayed like that for a moment, running a tongue across too-sharp teeth before rising.

Well, at least he knew who he could take these frustrations out on.

When he met up with Aang, Sokka, and Toph, there were only ten minutes left until the eclipse.

Zuko could feel it, if he thought about it. It almost felt like something in him was slowly shriveling up, becoming a husk of itself.

“He wasn’t there.” Is what Aang told him with a grim look on his face. Zuko furrowed a brow and chewed his lip.

“Azula must’ve known then.”

“Shit!” Sokka cursed, “they must be long gone by now.”

“Well, I doubt that.” Zuko looked out to the nearby mountains. “The family has an underground network that connects to the palace in case we need to evacuate. He’s probably there.”

“Really? Okay! Show us where the tunnels are.”

“They’re at the palace.” Zuko shook his head, “We might not have time.”

“You know what, call Appa over. If you want a straight shot to the Fire Dork, that’s what you’re getting.” Toph grinned venomously, cracking her knuckles all the while.

By the time they got to the rockface, the sky had taken on an eerie orange glow.

“Come on, come on! Let’s go hunting.” Toph cackled as they traversed through rock, over magma, and through metal, until they finally landed in a tunnel that looked manmade.

“If I remember right, there are two throne rooms, a real one and a dummy. The problem is they’re on opposite sides of the compound.” Zuko said as they hurried through the halls. 

“So we might have to split.” Sokka’s face was grim.

“Right, so who’s going where?” Aang looked behind from where he was at the front of the group.

“You guys take the left, I’ll search the right.” Zuko decided, and was immediately met with protest.

“Dude, no. You’re going to be a non bender in a minute, and there’s no way we’re going to make you fight your dad and the royal army by yourself.” Sokka looked a bit incredulous as he said this, like it was obvious.

“I won’t fight! Besides, I’m pretty sure the right is the dummy. It’s closer to the entrance. This is just to make sure.”

“And why can’t you take one of us with you?”

“The Avatar needs backup, and there’s more metal on the left, so you’ll need Toph too.”

“Zuko you can’t just-” Aang started to argue too, but stopped at the sight of Zuko’s white-hot glare.

“Sheesh, you’re almost as bad as Katara sometimes.”

“Thanks.”

“Fine! We don’t have time to argue about this; you take the right, we’ll take the left. But you absolutely won’t try to fight the FIre Lord if he’s there, right?” Sokka stressed. Besides him, Toph snorted,

“Yes, you have my promise.” Zuko nodded, and it was with that that they split.

Twenty seconds after they split, Zuko was hit with the overwhelming feeling of emptiness deep in his chest. It felt as if someone had taken out half his organs and tried to spread the rest out to hide the holes. It felt like he was drowning in mud and ichor.

It felt like his fire was gone.

His fire was gone, and he was so unbearably lonely and cold he nearly collapsed on the spot. His teeth felt rotten and his nails felt brittle. Zuko thought he was going to die for the amount of time it took from him leaning heavily against the wall of the tunnel to shoving himself back upright.

“You’re fine. It’s fine.” he said to himself through chattering teeth, and he knew he was going to lose his flame, but he didn’t know it would feel like this .

If what the Fire Lord was feeling was even a fraction of what Zuko was, it would be fair to say that even Sokka could take care of him.

He panted as he made his way to the dummy throne room. He highly doubted it would be empty; his sister would probably be there, or an arrangement of a battalion. He even started to hope, in a state of almost delirium, that his Uncle would be there waiting for him.

By the time he saw the throne room, he felt half the man he was when he first entered these tunnels.

He reached the gates, and pushed.

“Ah, Prince Zuko. So lovely of you to join us.”

Well, shit.

He would pick the one with his Father, wouldn’t he.

Ozai sat there in resplendent glory, a small cup of tea in hand, looking down past a line of crimson guards towards Zuko.

Zuko couldn’t see any noticeable flagging in his eyes, or his posture, or even in the way he held that cup. It was like Ozai hadn’t even noticed the eclipse was happening.

Meanwhile, Zuko felt like he had run twenty laps around Caldera.

“You know, most families send a notice before they come to visit.” Ozai put down his cup and waved a hand, dismissing his guard. They exited out in a single file line, leaving only Zuko and his Father.

“Well, if you’re here then that means my daughter is dealing with the Avatar?”

“How dare you?” Zuko hissed, “What happened to Uncle?”

“I’m sorry, Prince Zuko, but I do not make a habit of keeping tabs on my older brother. It was bothersome enough when he was out to sea with you, I had all but lost interest by now.”

“Where is he? ” Zuko growled deep in his throat, though it didn’t come as naturally as it did before. Now, all he could make were raspy groans that didn’t portray half the anger he felt.

His father laughed, “Got our claws cut, did we? I had heard you’ve been a bit…greedy with your gifts. So how about it? Do you like this, feeling normal again?”

Zuko paused at the question, “What do you mean?”

“The dragon disappears with the fire, you simpleton. I see it was unwise of me to assume you could figure that out on your own.” Ozai lifted his chin, “It would seem that those gifts truly were a waste on you.”

The words were confusing, but Zuko was mostly stuck on how the spirit inside him was gone.

So this is what he’d feel like if he got rid of it? No fire, no passion, just a shivering husk who daydreams about turtle-ducks.

Ah, even his anger was disappearing. Zuko felt like he was being ground into a smooth slate by running sand, brutal and unceasing in their quest to make him without chinks or chips. He straightened his stance, unaware of his father’s sly grin, and looked at his hands.

“I…I…”

“Well, let me ask you this then. Would you like to come back? Have your title reinstated? Maybe you can even get your Uncle back under our wing and we can finally be like a family again.”

“Family..” Zuko blinked slowly, “That’s..”

And then it was like a torch blaring to life, the pain and heat and anger and vengeance for his homeland rising up to a swell, so intense Zuko feared it would drip magma out his mouth and onto the floor. 

But he felt warm again, complete, ready to do anything.

So he narrowed his eyes and fixed his royal gaze onto another, “That’s a load of shit.”

His father just smirked, and shot lightning at him instead of answering.

“Fuck!” Zuko shouted, and got into the stance Uncle drilled into him in the ghost town to take the hit, gritting his teeth as he felt the impossible energy of lightning coursing through his veins, down in his belly, all through his bones.

“Agh!” He shot it back, redirecting it straight to Ozai’s chest. The man shot back, hitting the wall with a grunt, causing the tapestry of the Fire Nation behind him to fall. Zuko took the opportunity to retreat, running at full tilt with an almost singing in his veins because his fire was back and he never wanted it gone again. He had even almost forgotten about his “gifts” until he almost ran smack into a patrolling soldier, screeching in surprise and clinging to the wall like a startled skunk-cat.

The soldier stood stock-still, looking at him, and then burst out laughing.

What the fuck.

“As I live and breathe! That you, little Prince?” the soldier wheezed, then removed their faceplate to reveal Rai of all people.

“ What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in the colonies?” Zuko hissed, and the woman laughed again.

“Got promoted! A few people owe me a few favors.” she winked at him, and he felt his face redden in embarrassment when he remembered he was still holding on for dear life.

He got himself down and opened his mouth to say more, but was cut off by the shouts of soldiers down the hall he came from.

“Mm, don’t worry none, I’ll save yer hide.” Rai put a heavy hand on Zuko’s shoulder before shoving him past her and readjusting her face plate back in place.

“Thank you, Rai! Thank you!” Zuko called while running down the corridor towards the exit, biting his lip so he wouldn’t look back.

“Make sure to say hi to the Avatar for me!” she yelled back.

Katara caught them all with a weathered Appa when they all reemerged.

“It’s gotten bad.” she told them with a set jaw, and going by Aang and Sokka’s face, it seemed they didn’t have much luck either.

“Great plan, Sparky. Really glad you didn’t bring one of us with you.” Toph readjusted the chin strap to her hat with a grimace, probably  from having it chafe a shallow cut on her cheek.

“I’m sorry.” Was all that Zuko could say. The rest of the crew were silent as they descended to where the rest of the invasion force was camped.

Then the Fire Nation brought out their blimps and their war balloons, and Aang tried his best, but they were all running on scrap.

“We need to get out of here.” Zuko finally spat, watching Aang descend with a thick sheen of sweat coating his body, breathing ragged from exertion.

“How are we all going to escape?” Sokka asked and his father responded with, “We’re not.”

“What?”

“You kids need to escape. Take them up on Appa and get out of here. The adults will stay behind and hold them off until it’s safe for you.” Hakoda winced at his injury as he said this, but his eyes held a strong determination that made it seem clear he was a leader for a reason.

The younger ones tried to argue, until loud explosions ripped through their ears, making everyone watch as the ships they docked with were all bombed one by one.

“You need to go. Hope needs to stay alive to win this war.” Hakoda stressed again, and there was a sense of somber acceptance this time.

As the kids were being loaded on Appa’s saddle, Zuko felt his shoulder suddenly being grabbed.

“I’m guessing he wasn’t there.” Was Jee’s gruff greeting.

Zuko sighed through his nose, “No, he left.”

“Well, at least he’s still kicking. There’s no way that old fart will die before any of us, so don’t worry so much.” Jee patted his shoulder, and Zuko bit his lip, not saying anything.

“Jee.” Hakado walked up to the two, soot dusting his face and parts of his hair singed. “Just hug the damn boy.”

“What? No, you don’t need to-”

“Yep!” Kai barreled in from behind, wrapping a strong arm around Zuko’s neck and dragging him into his chest. To the side, he heard Jee grunt as he got roped in too, and Zuko felt a warm pressure coming from all sides, something he didn’t think he’d ever get used to.

“This is weird, you know.” Jee grumbled, “We’re supposed to think of each other as annoying. Annoying crewmates don’t do this.”

“Well this one does. The Prince is enough of a brat for the rest of us.” Kai finally let him go and Zuko swallowed the complaint when he saw the gash swiped across his nose, just barely missing his eyes, blood clotting in heavy clumps already.

“I’m sorry.” He choked out instead, blinking rapidly, and all he got was three different hands pushing on his head and mussing up his hair, careful of his horns.

“Go!” Jee said, pushing Zuko towards Appa where they were finishing up loading the smallest of kids.

“Have fun, don’t worry about us.” 

“See you!”

“Zuko, come on!” Katara shouted at him, eyes wet and voice wavering. He started running, jumping onto Appa’s saddle just as the sounds of heavy tanks and metal boots started hitting the sand.

He didn’t look back.

Chapter Text

The group was silent the whole journey as they made their way towards the Western Air Temple. 

There were new faces, faces Zuko didn’t recognize. There was a teenager that seemed close to his age who looked like he tried to hide it by growing a failed attempt at facial hair. There was a wheelbound child who looked sullen and defeated, and next to him walked the smaller of the strange duo that had met up with them during their escape from Ba Sing Se.

A lot had happened, and a lot was on everyone’s mind. Zuko himself felt anxiety gnawing on his bones as he thought about where in the world his uncle could have gone.

Did he take too long? Was Uncle tortured? Was what he did in those crystal caverns so unforgivable that the last family member who liked him finally realized he wasn’t worth the effort?

His stomach twisted at these thoughts.

He didn’t feel much better by the time they had all safely made it to the ruins of the temple, a place that Zuko had only seen once before, back when half his face was stuffed with cotton and his future felt empty.

The kids had run off to explore the temple, trying to find fun in their new situation. Aang, understandably, also wanted in, but Katara had dragged him to an impromptu meeting along with the rest of the team to discuss what the hell they were going to do now.

“If you ask me, I say the new plan is now the old plan.” Sokka snapped his fingers, “We get you to become a master of all four elements before the day of the comet, and bing bang bong, you whack that stupid smirk right off the Fire Lord’s face!”

“Oh yeah, okay, sounds real easy.” Aang flicked a wayward pebble off the bench he was lounged on as he said this, voice flat. 

“We don’t think it’ll be a walk in the park, Aang, but it is the best shot we have in this situation.” Katara tried to reassure, voice gentle, but she still had her hands gripped tight in her lap. 

Zuko could almost feel the worry radiating off her, but instead off calling attention to the thing that the whole group was trying very hard to Not Think About, he instead sat on the floor beside her.

“I haven’t even gotten started on my firebending you know, and the comet is in, what, a few weeks?”

“Zuko is right here!” Sokka pointed, and Zuko waved half-heartedly.

“Okay, how good of a teacher are you, Hotman?”

Zuko froze and slowly put his hand back down instead of answering.

The atmosphere became stiff and tainted, with electricity buzzing in the air in a way that made the boy want to shake himself like a wet polar-dog.

“Well, guess we can’t come up with anything else. I’m going to look around the temple.” Aang said in a hurry, grabbing his new staff and sprinting off to the edge before Katara could utter a word of protest. His absence left a new kind of silence to the remaining members.

“Ok, well, I’ll get started drawing up a lesson plan then.” Zuko offered weakly, and was given weary nods from the rest as they all dispersed to begin setting up camp.

Which had led him to where he was now, sitting in a dirt clearing staring at an empty sheaf of paper with a brush in his hand with ink drying on the bristles.

He couldn’t think of anything.

Zuko tried desperately to recall the lessons he took while in Caldera, and the katas his uncle would have him run while they were on their ship (and if the memories caused a spike of pain to shoot through his heart, no one would need to know).

He got as far as the basics of the basics, but when it came to the more advanced techniques Zuko’s head would feel like it was full of cotton, sluggish at coming up with answers.

“Alright, well there’s more than one place for memory to go.” he finally grumbled to himself, throwing down his travel brush and roughly shaking his hair with his fingers, nails bouncing a bit once they hit horn. He ignored the feeling and rose to his feet.

“Right, first is,” he lowered into the first stance of one of the more intermediate forms. Using his muscles to tell him what to do when his mind wouldn’t, Zuko slowly moved through each kata, breathing with his movements, brow furrowed in concentration, going step by step like he was connecting puzzle pieces together, until finally, he brings both hands in front of him and shoots out a streamlined blast of fire that should-

What the fuck.

“Wh-huh?!” Zuko’s eyes widened, then sharpened when he tried again, but all he got in response was the same pitiful spark instead of the fire he was oh so familiar with.

He tried again, and again, going through the movements, then trying the simple forms, then just trying to summon a flame, something he could do since he was nothing but a child who knew nothing.

But each and every spirits-damned time, all he got was a puff of smoke.

Finally, as the sun began to set, Zuko collapsed into the dirt, panting, sweat clinging to his brow. He took a gasping breath, and raised a shaking hand in front of his face before covering it and clenching his jaw so hard he could hear his teeth creak.

“ What the fuck? ”

“We have a problem.” is what he hissed at Aang when they all met up again to eat. Aang glanced at him, probably about to very loudly ask what got his pants in a twist, but Zuko shushed him before anything could be said, their escapade in the fortress all those months ago reminding him of how to shut the boy up. The altercation got them the attention of the rest of the group, but Aang nodded in promise to leave it till later, and Zuko huffed a sigh before moving past him and sitting as close to the fire pit as he dared, shivering all the while.

He was used to it, this dark coldness, but ever since he had experienced the eclipse and had felt what it was like to be completely without fire, it now brought the added feeling of dread. The discovery of his new problem was certainly not helping him stay calm about it either.

So Zuko sat, trying desperately to ignore his own thoughts and the nervous glances of their three newest members, the ones who knew nothing about him outside the fact that he had been trying to kill half the people in this cave last summer.

He hadn’t even had the claws back then.

Dinner was quiet, murmurs sounding out from time to time as people chatted with those they sat next to. Zuko barely noticed what he ate, nor did he feel the looks that Katara and Aang were giving him from across the fire, trying to catch his attention. A weight flung itself on his back, hitching him forward and almost dipping his bangs into the flame, making his heart stutter and vision swim with a memory he would trade almost anything to be rid of.

“How many times are we going to have stew?” Toph asked while leaning against him, seemingly oblivious to his state if not for the way the dirt under him gripped his legs, stopping him from moving further into the fire. Zuko blinked away his visions and chanced a glance at the girl tapping her wooden spoon forlornly against her bowl. He hadn’t even realized it was stew again.

“Don’t worry about Duke and the others.” she continued without waiting for any answer, “They just need to see you chase a light beam and they’ll realize how much of an owl-kitten you are.”

‘ How do you even know I do that?’ Zuko thought to himself, and grumbled a bunch of nothing in lieu of an answer. He felt Toph snort, and she didn’t say anything more.

 He didn’t correct her either; he didn’t really mind how the newest members were scared of him, he was very much used to that. Zuko didn’t want to worry Toph more about what he was afraid was happening to him, it was hard enough getting her to stop fussing over his heartbeat without the added terror of him losing a part of himself.

The Duke was very certain that everyone on Team Avatar was kind of insane.

Aang was pretty fun to hang out with, and so was Sokka when he wasn’t being a hardass about stuff, but Katara was annoying to no end with her mountains of rules and Toph, frankly, scared the shit out of him.

The Duke had never met a firebender that didn’t want him dead before.

Seeing Zuko for the first time was a little bit underwhelming. When they had boarded the Water Tribe ship, the prince was wrapped in a cloak and huddled in a corner, barely speaking to anyone. Then Zuko was all of a sudden overwhelming , with the way he snarled at the sea serpent peering down at them like a god and sprinted across the railing of the boat and up the masts with ease, flame licking from his nose in anger when they were under attack. After that, the Avatar’s group had split with them, and the Duke didn’t see Zuko again until the day of the invasion. He had the advantage of being perched on Pipsqueak’s shoulder, so the Duke had a very ample view of a man frantically waving his arms and calling out for a banished prince, and a figure dressed in black and red moving with the speed of a serpent in order to shut him up. 

It would’ve been funny if the Duke’s stomach hadn’t been hurting from nerves that entire day.

Pipsqueak was always good at making that feeling go away, but Pipsqueak was gone now, and instead he got Haru and Teo as his new (but not replacements. Never replacements. ) companions.

They had a blast running around the Air Temple, finding hidden vents and funny pictures on the wall. Teo even did tricks in this giant domed out clearing made of stone, using the wheels of his chair to gain crazy momentum that had the Duke seeing stars. 

Aang almost joined them, but got pulled away at the last second by Katara so they could talk about boring adult stuff. It would have been cool to have an airbender with them to open up some of the stuff, but they would just have to get creative.

After they had run themselves dry and laid claim to the rooms they wanted, they all decided to head back to where the rest of the group was, and the Duke had almost completely forgotten about the firebender until he was a few spoonfuls into his stew and he looked up in time to see fire glint off golden eyes as the boy held Aang’s upper arm in a tight grip, lips twisted while he hissed something out. 

The Duke wasn’t scared of anything, he had been fighting firebenders since he could walk, but he still tightened his grip on the bowl a little when Zuko sharply raised a finger to his lips to stop Aang from talking.

“What is it, Duke?” Haru asked softly, and the Duke quickly corrected him with a ‘THE Duke’ before saying, “Do you think Zuko is going to betray us?”

Haru and Teo didn’t answer, just looked at each other then looked at the teenager who was slumped near the fire now with a glazed look in his eye.

“Maybe? I don’t really know the guy. Do you, Teo?” Haru glanced to his side.

“Naw, not me. My dad, maybe, but he’s not here, so..” he awkwardly trailed off, stirring his spoon in his stew before perking up and chuckling a bit forcefully, “Anyway! We need to think of a way to open up those corridors.”

“Can’t we just ask Aang?” Haru raised a brow, and Teo laughed.

“We could, but that wouldn’t be nearly as fun!”

The next day, the Duke managed to be the first one awake. 

He rose with a gallant yawn and stretch, smacking his lips and rubbing his eyes, keeping his head down so he wouldn’t be blinded by the sun’s rays peeking from the carved out window in his room. He rose from his bed with a groan at the insistence of his bladder, stumbling on his way to the clearing to where the bathrooms were on the other side. He rubbed his hands across his face in an attempt to get the sleep sand out of his eyes, stopping only when he stepped out of the hallway and promptly froze at the sight of Zuko sleeping in the smoldering ashes of what used to be their campfire.

He was curled up like he was freezing, with soot smeared all over his skin and clothes, with his hair fluffed up like a koala-sheep.

The Duke stared, only looking away when he heard Momo chirruping. He turned slightly towards the lemur that was shaking out his fur and digging his tiny claws in the dirt. Momo shook his head then scampered over Zuko, sniffing a little at the ash then leaping straight onto the boy’s head.

The Duke had the pleasure of watching Zuko snort out of slumber, jerking in a way that caused him to throw himself out of the pit and onto earth.

“Huh? Wha?” Zuko looked around, his good eye barely open, and seemed to not even notice the lemur dangling from his shoulders.

Momo chittered and leapt off the boy, bounding towards the food stores.

“Can’t you get it yourself? Don’t you have hands?” the teenager grumbled and rose to his feet unsteadily, taking a step and then balking at the state he was in.

“The hell?”

“You were sleeping in the campfire, dude.” The Duke piped up, and Zuko whipped around to stare at him.

It was a little freaky to have such reptilian eyes glued to him, so the Duke broke eye contact after a few heartbeats, “You looked cold. Is that like a firebender thing?”

“Uh, no. I usually don’t do that.” Zuko blinked, then looked down, pinching a spot of his shirt and holding it away to assess the damage.

“Right, okay. Well, I’m going to the bathroom.” The Duke ran off without another glance to the firebender. He didn’t want to be near Zuko when it was just the two of them, no matter how much Aang reassured that he was a “good guy”.

He’d probably be even more suspicious, honestly. A nice firebender was usually also a lying one.

They had almost solved the corridor problem when the whole temple shook violently.

The Duke screamed and fell to his knees from the force, rubble bouncing off his helmet. Besides him, Teo was clutching his wheelchair for dear life while Haru had an arm wrapped around him, acting as an anchor.

“We’re under attack!” The Duke shot to his feet and ran towards the center of the camp, where the others would be, “Come on!”

“Wait, Duke!” he heard Haru shout behind him, but didn’t spare the glance back. When he still lived with the Freedom Fighters, when Jet had put a dagger in his too-small hands, the thing he was taught the most was that speed was always of the essence, both in ambushing and in being ambushed.

“Guys!” The Duke skidded into the clearing, only to near immediately begin coughing a lung out, eyes watering from the dust and debris. He heard shouting near the fountain in the center, and took a few steps in that direction only to be stopped by another BOOM and a hurried hand on his shoulder yanking him back.

“What’s going on?!” Teo shouted to his right, and the Duke chanced a glance upwards to see the brightness of flame cutting through the screen of  fresh dust.

“We need to get out of here, come on.” Haru tugged on his shoulder again to steer him, but the Duke ducked under his arm to break free and started running again. Haru and Teo weren’t experienced in fighting firebenders like he was, so he didn’t blame them for running. But the Duke never said no to a fight, he was the bravest of the freedom fighters, and he would help his friends in any way he could.

“Duke, get back!” Aang spotted him first, his staff clutched tightly in his hands. Sokka and Katara didn’t look at him, keeping their eyes trained on the cliff overlooking the clearing, but the siblings tensed even further hearing Aang’s words.

“Where is he? Where’s the firebender?” The Duke glanced around rapidly, sweating palms clenched. He knew the ashmaker would turn on them, Jet was always right about the Fire Nation.

“He’s up there.” Toph pointed to where the Water Tribe siblings were looking, and the Duke turned to where she was gesturing, having to hold his heavy helmet out of his line of sight all the while, in time to see Zuko leap onto a heavy-set man with a metal arm.

He was screeching something the Duke was too far away to hear, but the curve of his frame and the way he latched onto the man’s flesh arm with nothing but his teeth and nails as the stranger threw them both around and against cliffside in an attempt to shake him off reminded the Duke of the time he accidentally found a nest of adder-panther cubs with a very pissed off mother. 

“Why isn’t he bending?” Katara wondered out loud, hands at the ready for when she would have to attack.

“What are you guys waiting for? Get him!” The Duke looked at the older kids like they were crazy, and felt even more confused when he got incredulous stares in return.

“Are you nuts? We might hit Zuko!”

It was weird logic, but the Duke guessed they grew fond enough of the firebender to not want to hurt him. Maybe they were afraid he would enact revenge by burning up all their food or something.

Their stalemate broke at the sound of a sharp yelp cutting through the air, and everyone’s heads whipped back around in time to see the strange firebender grasping Zuko by the throat with his metal arm, shaking the boy violently before throwing him over the side of the cliff.

“ Zuko! ” Aang shouted, shooting up in the air. His attempt at rescue was stopped when he barely avoided a beam of power that shot from the guy’s freaking head . The Duke’s eyes widened, and for the first time he felt a shiver go up his spine and pin him in place.

“Come on!” Sokka grabbed him by the shirt collar and yanked him under his arm, Toph on the other side. He and Katara both ran for cover while Aang twisted his body and shot a cyclone at the cliff the man was standing on.

The firebender leapt off onto an upside-down building lower to them, and shot again.

“Aang, hurry up!” the Duke shouted.

Aang pushed himself towards them with a burst of air, rolling onto his feet and sprinting towards the wall acting as their barricade.

The staff in his hands was shaking violently, and his eyes were unfocused, breathing heavy.

“Aang, focus!” Katara slapped her hands on his cheeks, shocking him out of his episode, “Later, okay? We need to get through this, just focus on defeating Combustion Man first, okay?” 

And the Duke didn’t really want to think about it, but despite Katara’s tough words, the group surrounding him had suddenly carried a sense of grief and tiredness he hadn’t felt since the Freedom Fighters broke up. 

Another blast jolted him back to awareness, and the Duke pressed himself against the wall. Next to him, Toph was sitting, hands pressed firmly on the ground.

“No good, he’s not close enough.” She spat out, and the Duke couldn’t tell which firebender she was talking about.

“Can you get him from here, Katara?” Sokka asked, risking a glance around the corner only to immediately swing back into safety as a boom whizzed past.

The girl shook her head, “I can’t go out in the open, and the angle’s too wrong to hit him from here.”

Sokka bit his lip, looking out at the clearing, then slowly raised his hand to the case strapped to his back.

“When in doubt, boomerang it out.” He pressed the flat of the weapon to his forehead for a second, then held his arm straight out, calculating his throw.

The group watched with bated breath as he wound up his arm and threw with a shout. The boomerang sailed in the air, curving in a sharp turn. Pretty soon, they all heard a thunk and a shout.

Sokka ran out first, a wide grin splitting his lips as he jumped up to catch his boomerang.

“Yeah, boomerang!”

Then the man got up.

“Aw, boomerang!” They ran back to cover, but instead of immediately getting bombarded with blasts, there was an explosion from where Combustion Man was, and the Duke peeked his head out in time to see the building the man was standing on crumble and fall into the canyon below, no sign of the metal man in sight.

“Sokka, you did it!” he shouted in joy, and they all rushed to the edge to see if they could find any sign of the enemy.

“Where’s Sparky?” Toph called out, and the atmosphere seemed to wilt.

“I-I don’t see him.” Katara held a hand to her throat, and besides her Aang’s eyes were frantic, combing the cliffside.

“He’s not-”

“No, there’s no way he didn’t make it. Are we even talking about the same Zuko here?” Sokka huffed, but his happy mood was completely gone.

The Duke was pretty confused honestly. He had never seen people sad over the death of a firebender, especially since all they seemed to do was spread pain and despair.

Plus, Zuko was the Prince, right? And his dad was the reason why the Duke didn’t have parents anymore. But in the short time he hung out with the prince, the Duke couldn’t really think of any reasons to hate him outside of that either. 

He was awkward as hell, and tended to stick to the oldest members of the group, and sometimes had a scary look in his eye, but he wasn’t putting snake-eels in their shoes, and Momo and Appa liked him a lot, and one time the Duke saw him give his blanket to Teo while they were all sleeping after his got torn from getting caught in his wheels.

So the Duke didn’t really know how to feel, but whatever was in his chest now made a total flip-flop when they all heard Toph gasp and heavy footsteps walking towards them.

“Uh, guys? What are you looking at?” Zuko popped his head between Sokka and Katara, peering down at the canyon like they were. After a beat, he looked up and seemed to startle when he realized everyone was staring at him.

“Y-you…” Sokka pointed a shaking finger at the firebender.

“Yeah? Hi, Zuko here.” 

“WE THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD.”

Toph rammed her head right into his stomach, causing him to wheeze in pain and topple backwards, taking the girl with him as she clutched to his middle, rubbing her face in the fabric of his shirt.

“What were you thinking?! Honestly!” Katara knelt down beside him and slapped him on the shoulder, only to immediately begin scanning his body with a trained eye.

“What did I do?” Zuko coughed out, trying and failing to pry Toph off his abdomen.

The Duke blinked, and ahead of the group he saw Teo and Haru lean from their hiding spot behind a cluster of pillars. He silently broke off from the group to reunite with his friends.

“What happened?” Teo asked, probably weirded out from seeing the older kids acting like babies.

The Duke looked over his shoulder in time to see Aang divebomb onto Zuko to join Toph in whatever it was they were doing. He remembered how only a few minutes ago the firebender was fighting literal tooth and nail to stop Combustion Man from hurting their friends.

“Uh, I guess Zuko might be kind of cool after all.”

“Your bending is gone?!”

“ Shhhh!”  Zuko hissed, clapping a hand over the Avatar’s mouth in an attempt to get him to stop shouting . The boy may be able to control all the elements, but his lungs proved that he was first and foremost an airbender.

“It’s not gone! It’s just…it’s not there either.” He trailed off, not really knowing how to explain.

“Is it the spirit thing? Do I need to do some Avatar intervention to talk to it or something?” Aang grasped Zuko’s wrist and pried it off his face, calmer now.

A beat of silence.

“Huh? You could’ve done that this whole time?” Zuko blinked, face blank, and then what Aang said caught up to him, he felt like the biggest moron in the world.

“Oh, huh. Yeah, I guess I could’ve.” At least he wasn’t alone in having this epiphany.

“But I mean, there isn’t a guarantee it’ll work.”

“Anything’s worth a shot right now. We need to get started on your training, and it will make all of our lives easier if we can get this dumb spirit to actually cooperate for once.”

“Okay, well, sit down then.”

And that had led to Zuko’s current situation, sitting seiza in front of the Avatar, who had a palm flat on his sternum and a face scrunched in concentration.

“What’s it saying?” Zuko finally asked after about five minutes of them both doing nothing but breathing.

“Hold on. I’m still trying to get to it.”

“Still?”

“Well, you got a lot of stuff in here, man.”

“Hey, don’t touch my stuff. You know that’s rude.”

“I’m not, let me focus.”

Zuko huffed but restrained himself from retorting, roving bored eyes around their surroundings instead.

Another few minutes of him mindlessly scraping the stone floor with his nails later, Aanf finally dropped his arm with a groan.

“How’d it go?” Zuko straightened his spine and grasped his knees in anticipation.

“No good. I couldn’t find it.”

“What?” That sounded a bit hard to believe, if Zuko was being honest. Aang might still be inexperienced in the whole spirit side of being the Avatar, but Zuko was sure it would’ve been easy to find a giant dragon that sometimes felt like it was coiled around his ribs.

“It’s not there, I don’t think. Maybe it left and that’s why you can’t bend?”

But that didn’t sound right, because even though Zuko was cold, it was nothing like the state he was in during the eclipse. The brain fog and the ice in his bones was something he didn’t think he would ever forget.

“Maybe we should try a different approach. Do you know of any places that we could go to that have a strong connection with dragons? Ah, preferably somewhere where we won’t run into your crazy family.”

Zuko thought for a bit, trying to remember his history lessons from what felt like another lifetime.

He snapped his fingers.

“I think I know a place.”

“This is insane. Why are there so many booby traps everywhere?”

“Stop complaining. Spear.” Zuko warned, and Aang jolted to his left in time to avoid the spear hurtling towards his head.

“Zuko!”

“Keep up! There shouldn’t be any once we reach the temple.” He pointed ahead of them towards the nature-encrusted building nestled atop slopes and slopes of stairs. 

“That’s like the size of a whole city!”

“Well, someone didn’t want to bring Appa.”

“You-woah!”

Aang flung a burst of air at his feet after the floor underneath suddenly opened up, revealing rusted spikes ready to stop the intruders.

“It’s actually pretty impressive how many of these traps have held up. It must have been centuries since they were rigged.” Zuko knelt down to tuck at the slack tripwire Aang triggered.

“Maybe this was a bad idea. It feels like the past is trying to kill me.” Aang tugged on an ear nervously, glancing at the yellowed walls of the corridor they were in. Zuko just huffed in amusement and clenched his fists before running along the wall to meet Aang on the other side of the trap.

“Show off.”

“You are literally the Avatar.” Zuko looked up to see how much distance was left.

“We should make it there by midday. Come on, let’s try to be more careful, okay?”

“Hey, I’m not a kid any-”

“Okay?”  

“Fine.” Aang crossed his arms and pursed his lips. “I won’t fall for any more traps.”

Zuko grinned, “Good.”

“You know, there seems to be something in the air. Do you smell that?”

“No.”

“Are you sure? ‘Cause to me, it smells an awful lot like irony around here.”

“Ha. Ha.” Zuko ground out, trying and failing yet again to pry himself from the black goop that clung to his skin like paste. Besides him, Aang was in the same situation, but he had given up on escape hours ago.

“You just had to touch the glowing egg, didn’t you?”

“I don’t know what came over me, alright?”

He really didn’t, either. As soon as his eyes landed on that gem in the middle of the room, it was like Zuko had fallen into a trance. The golden sheen and the way it glittered in the sun had called out to him, making something deep in his belly get pulled forward. By the time he came back to himself, the treasure was already in his hands, warm as if it was alive, and he was shot into the air by a geyser of glue.

“HEEEELP!” Aang suddenly shouted, and the resulting ring in his ear made his temper flare up.

“What are you shouting at! No one’s lived here for centuries.”

“What else are we supposed to do?” Aang shot back, and before Zuko could retort in a way that he would think would make his uncle proud, the sound of footsteps stopped him.

Instead, he curled his lip, yanking his head towards the intruder he couldn’t see and baring his fangs in warning, low hiss in the back of his throat. Besides him, he heard Aang grunt from exertion, probably stretching his face out in an attempt to see the threat.

“Who’s down there?” A man’s voice sounded, and an aged face covered in tribal paint popped into view, a stern look on his brow. Zuko spat as an answer, and narrowed his eyes further when the man focused his attention on him.

“Please, can you get us out of here?” Aang begged, and after a pregnant pause, the man stepped away, whether to get help or leave them to die, Zuko couldn’t really tell.

“Stop hissing at him!” Aang whispered, snapping Zuko out of his mood, suddenly leaving him near exhausted, like he had just ran for a day and a half.

The man came back soon enough, with a whole group of people and two badger-varks at his heels. They released the clamps for the gate, and the animals got to work, scooping up the glue with long gray tongues. Their snuffling around his hair and burnt ear caused Zuko to snap, which made the one closest to him squeak and jerk back.

“Chill out, Zuko. They’re just trying to help.” Aang mumbled through the side of his teeth, too busy smiling awkwardly at their audience to properly reprimand the other.

“Fine, fine.” The animals seemed harmless anyway. All they were really talking about was how much food was in front of them, and didn’t seem to care at all about the side of humans that came with it.

They are accused of stealing the gem when they were mostly unstuck, and Zuko couldn’t really blame them, because that was exactly what it looked like.

“That’s not it at all! We’re only here to look for some answers, something to help us with firebending.” Aang argued, and for some reason half the crowd looked at Zuko when he said that. Maybe coming out here without his cloak was a bad idea.

The man in front, who Zuko assumed was the chief of the Sun Warriors, hums in thought.

“That someone of royal blood would set foot here again is enough to try my patience, but now you ask us to divulge our secrets to outsiders?” A smaller man standing besides the chief spat out, clutching the gem protectively all the while.

“Okay, I don’t want to play this card, but I’m the Avatar. Please trust in my faith in my companion; we are only here to solve a problem we’ve been having.” Aang looked like he was trying to put out the most innocent face he could as he said that, but his eyes nearly dripped with sincerity, and that might have been what made the chief heave a sigh and take a step forward.

“If looking for answers hidden in sunlight is what you seek, then you must ask your questions to the masters Ran and Shaw.”

‘ Masters?’ Zuko thought, and blinked when the man leaned into his space.

“They will examine you, the both of you; they will read your hearts, your souls, your ancestry. They will judge you as you present yourselves to them, and it is in their hands whether you will gain what you have traveled for or be destroyed on the spot.”

Zuko gulped, swiping his tongue along teeth in nervousness, and tried to not flinch as the man abruptly reared back and turned on his heel, large jewelry jangling and swinging with each step.

A few of the group followed him, while the rest remained, whispering to each other and pointing at the two outsiders, though Zuko felt they were more focused on him than the actual fucking Avatar besides him. That’s what he got for being the freak of the group.

The grooming took most of the night, and only when the sun’s rays peeked over the horizon were they clean enough to be escorted to a temple that housed a roaring bonfire. It was placed in an altar that glittered magnificently, and the scent of the embers was ancient and mystical, something that felt similar to being placed in front of a legend.

“This,” the chief began as the people around them began to kneel, “is the first fire. The dragons had imparted this flame unto man thousands of years ago, and as our sacred duty we have kept it lit ever since.”

“I don’t believe it.” Zuko breathed, eyes wide. 

“You will each take a piece of flame to the masters to show your commitment. When you present the flame, you will be judged by them.” The chief scooped out two portions of fire from the larger blaze, cradling them with precision and care before presenting them to the two.

“Oh, wow, okay. Uhm, I don’t actually know any firebending yet, so is it okay if my friend here carries it for me?”

“No.”

Aang gulped, and shakily held out his hands, mimicking what Zuko was doing. The chief gently placed the flame in his hands, and it instantly became smaller, but retained its shape.

The Avatar blinked, and relaxed, holding the fire closer, “It’s like a little heartbeat.”

“Fire is life, little Avatar, not just destruction.” The chief led them to the top of the stairs and pointed at a nearby mountain, “There is your destination. Remember, feed the flame too much and it will grow out of your control; keep the flame too small and it will go out. You must maintain this balance as you travel, and once you reach the masters’ dwellings, you shall present it to them and await their decision.”

And Zuko was confident in himself and Aang as they made their way to the mountain, confident until the sun started to set and he felt the familiarity of the weights of fatigue locking on his limbs and dragging him down. He was running on fumes as it was, having no time to rest between being trapped the night before and interrogated and escorted until the sun rose.

He also couldn’t maintain the fire in his hand with ease like he normally could, relying heavily on the now disappearing sun to give him the boost he needed to just keep it alive.

“Are you tired, Zuko?” Aang asked after seeing him trip on a stone for the nth time, somehow keeping his flame intact by sheer luck.

“Yeah, I’m fine. You need to pick up the pace though.” He glanced over his shoulder at the boy who had paused in climbing over a boulder.

“But if I go too fast, the flame will go out!”

“It’s gonna go out anyway. You aren’t giving it any juice.”

“But-”

“Don’t worry, Aang.” Zuko tried to sound confident, but a yawn quickly put that effort to a halt, “You’re a talented kid, I know you can do it.”

“...Okay.”

He waited until Aang caught up with him, and they resumed their journey.

Somehow , everyone from the tribe had beat the two to the masters’ lair.

They stood in front of a grand staircase that split off into two paths leading to a cave on each side of the points of the mountain, framing the setting sun. The chief stood near the entrance to greet them, and silently took a piece of their respective flames to hand off to his tribemates.

“Zuko, are you sure you want to go through with this?” Aang whispered to him as the tribe began banging their drums and swirling flame into the air.

“We’ve come this far, why would we turn back now?”

“Well, I’ve already learned a lot about firebending, and you look like you’re doing better. Plus I really don’t want to fight elderly people.”

“If it comes to that, I’ll do the fighting for you.” Zuko snorted with false bravado, and took a breath before stepping up onto the stairs, Aang at his heels.

They climbed the steps slowly, Zuko counting each beat in his head, until they finally reached the arena at the top and stood back-to-back, heads bowed and hands held out in offering.

Someone sounded off a bone-vibrating horn, and the mountains shuddered from an unknown force, dust spewing from the cave-mouths the two were facing, releasing with it a scent that tasted almost like-

“What’s going on? What’s happening?” Zuko felt Aang flutter and look over his shoulder, and he glanced back to see the boy with a quirk in his brow and no flame at his fingertips.

“Your fire!” he hissed, and the Avatar looked down and immediately began scrambling in a panic.

“Give me some of yours!” he launched himself at Zuko’s back, trying desperately to grab the small flame in his palm.

“No! Just make your own, it’s fine!”

“ I can’t.”

“Wait, just-” and in the midst of their tussle, Aang wrenched Zuko’s hands to his torso, effectively making him lose his offering as well.

“Fuck.”

Then there was a loud roar, one that made Zuko tense up and forget everything except the fact that there was a large something making its way towards the two, and Zuko couldn’t run away.

He grabbed a fistful of his friend’s tunic and kept him close, tucking him to his breastbone and snarling over his shaven head.

“ Away, away!” is what he threw at the threat, trying hard to not tremble at the two heavy presences steadily making their ways to the mouth of the caves. Harsh shrieks were what we got in response, and he was distracted enough by the squirming child trying to break free from his grasp to get caught a bit unaware when something giant and fast and kin flew over him.

The boy was yelling something at him, trying to grasp his wrists, but Zuko kept his eyes pinned on the two serpents, the two dragons that were circling them like prey.

“-ko. Zuko!” Aang pinched his arm, hard , making Zuko yelp and let go, rubbing at the sore area.

“We have to dance with them!” Aang blurted out before Zuko could say anything, “The dragon dance! What we did to make that egg appear!”

“Are you sure?” Zuko clenched his fists to his sides, nails digging into his palms, eyes flicking as he tried to decide on which dragon to watch for.

“Trust me!”

So they danced, and Zuko’s teeth creaked from the tension he held in his jaw, trying desperately to ignore the way his core screamed at him to run away from there.

He was too busy being in his head to realize the dragons had begun flying in sync with their movements, dipping as they crouched and rising as they swayed.

By the end of it they were back to their former positions, backs plastered to each other as they locked eyes with their respective dragon.

Zuko’s nostrils flared and his tongue flicked, trying desperately to take in as much information as he could, and feeling a bit put off when the blue dragon staring him down did the same.

Then the dragon hissed out, ‘ And what is a hatchling like yourself doing here?’

Zuko jerked back harshly, ramming into Aang who stumbled forward in surprise.

“You can talk?” 

‘Everything talks, cub.’ The red one facing Aang grumbled, making Zuko whip his head around.

‘The wind, the sun, the earth beneath your body speaks.’

“That’s..”

“Zuko, what’s going on?” Aang glanced at him warily, looking confused. Looking like he couldn’t hear the dragon's words.

“You..you can’t understand them?” Zuko asked, incredulous. They didn’t sound anything like how animals would talk, their words were clear and concise, so much that Zuko had just assumed they were capable of human speech.

“No! Can you?” Aang’s brows rose, and his eyes gained a shine in them when Zuko nodded.

‘ Why are you here, boy?’ The red one speaks, stealing Zuko’s attention again.

“I have a spirit problem. There’s a dragon living inside me, and it won’t leave. It’s made me lose my bending, and I can’t stay awake. Do you think you could speak to it?” Zuko pleaded, bowing quickly with his hands in the Fire Nation’s salute.

Neither dragon spoke, just kept their eyes resting on the two intruders. 

‘ What have those humans been telling you?” the blue dragon behind him let out a sharp puff of what sounded like whistling steam, and the red one in front of him shook out its mane in agitation.

“What do you mean?”

‘ There is no spirit besides your own.’ The blue one perched on the pathway leading to its cave, claws scraping on stone and wings fluttering, ‘ What you have been in conflict with is only the matters of your own heart.’

‘ You must belong to Agni’s chosen clan if you house our blood. I remember your kin visiting long ago .’

“Kin…are you talking about my uncle?” Zuko felt dizzy at the influx of information. No spirit? What did they mean by his heart?

‘ The gift the sun has bestowed on you is not flowing freely. It is trapped like a serpent in a cove, writhing in anger. You are blocking its way to salvation by not allowing it to exist, and so you suffer as a result.’

“You’re saying I’m the reason I can’t firebend anymore?” Zuko felt like he was going to be sick. An influx of thoughts suddenly rose; memories of his tutors sneering down at him and his sister laughing meanly as they passed each other and the way his mother sometimes wouldn’t look him in the eye.

Worthless.

‘You have two choices, cub.’ One of the dragons spoke. Zuko didn’t know which one, because while he was lost in thought he had let his head hang in what was close to despair.

‘ You either let the fire flow, allow the two halves of yourself to join. Or,’ hot breath tousled his hair, ‘ you allow the Avatar to take your bending.’

“What? Wh-why would I want that?” Zuko tugged on his hair, mind racing.

‘ To take your bending is to take your dragon. You will revert back to your bearer’s bloodline, and will never again house fangs or fire. You will be free of this so-called ‘spirit’.’

‘The choice is yours to make.’ the other dragon hissed, speaking in the same cadence, like they were one being, starting where the other ended.  

“Zuko, what are they saying? Can they fix you?” Aang tugged on his sleeve and looked at him with worry in his eyes.

“They..I..” Zuko worried his lip, wincing only when he broke the skin and the taste of iron bloomed on his tongue. It reminded him of when he was starving in the desert, and when he woke up with his uncle gone, and when he found out he tried to hunt down the Avatar.

Then Aang squeezed his hand, and the cold creeping in his chest halted.

“Listen, you gotta remember that all our friends are by your side. I don’t really get what’s going on, but if you want to leave, we can leave, and you won’t get kicked out of the group for choosing that . ”

“Aang..” Zuko blinked down at the boy. It felt strange to have those kinds of words directed at him by someone who wasn’t Uncle. He placed his free hand on his chest, above his heart, feeling it thump rapidly. 

Could he do it? Could he give up his bending to become fully human again? Zuko recalled the day of the invasion, how alien he felt in his own skin, how much he felt like he was missing an arm and a leg. Would he be like that forever?

‘ Well?’ the red dragon rumbled, whiskers twitching with impatience. It held its mouth open, displaying fearsome teeth, ‘ Have you come to a decision, hatchling?’

Zuko tongued at the wound on his lip. He remembered the stares strangers would give him whenever he walked with his scales exposed, the remarks he would overhear. 

He remembered the girl he ran into that called him a nice dragon. When he finally got Katara to smile at the noodle shop. The way his crew looked when they split paths all those moons ago.

He remembered why he joined the Avatar in the first place.

“Show me.” Zuko looked up at the red dragon, then turned to the blue one. “Show me how to become whole.”

‘ Very well.’ Both serpents spoke in unison before coiling up to release a vortex of rainbow light around him and Aang. They both stood, mouths agape, marveling at the display, and something in Zuko’s chest tugged, desperately wanting something. He gazed deeply into the flames, feeling the heat on his face, the scent on his tongue, and felt the knot in his belly loosen for the first time in what felt like forever.

“I understand.”

By the time the dragons went back to their caves, Zuko’s body was flush with warmth, fueling his inner flame without driving him to madness from the energy. The air itself seemed to sparkle with things he hadn’t noticed before, and when he opened his mouth the scents of the mountain and the dragons weighed heavy on his tongue, leaving traces of sulfur and ash.

“You okay?” Aang leaned into his field of view, eyes scanning his face.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Zuko grinned in response, lighter than he had felt in years. Aang blinked, then smiled brightly in return, swerving and descending the stairs with a spring in his step.

“By the way, I have a favor to ask.”

“Yeah?”

Aang glanced over his shoulder, a bit bashful now, “Can you tell Appa I love him?”

“What.”

“Please! I can’t believe you never told me you could talk to animals, and by the way, I better be the first to know about this, but anyway I know I tell him all the time but sometimes I wonder if he knows what I’m saying saying, you know? So like if you could tell him it would be super nice and I would be your best friend and maybe you could ask him if he love me too-”

“Aang.” Zuko held up a hand, the other going to pinch between his eyes, “I’m not doing that.”

“..oh, okay. I mean, I don’t wanna force you.”

“Appa already knows you love him.” Zuko brushed past the boy as he said this, leaving him on the steps.

“WH-”

Mai was getting sick and tired of talking to commoners. 

It was always either them trying to sell her something or trying to get her to go out with them, and every time the princess sent her out on reconnaissance she would think for a few heartbeats about stabbing herself in the neck instead. 

Her orders were vague but to-the-point. Find out where Zuko is headed. The biggest lead she had was the fishing village he helped save, but after that rumors about him became too widespread and loose, truth mixing in with those who wanted a few seconds in the limelight. The bounty hunter Azula hired never showed up at the contact point, so that either meant he was dead or ran off with his tail between his heavy legs.

Ty Lee gave a little bit of a breather, always preferring to talk about anything other than work, which gave Mai the perfect white noise to doze off or sharpen her knives to.

“..and get this, Rao was, like, totally acting suspicious about it when we asked him where the costumes were, and it took like four of the contortionists to finally squeeze the truth outta him, and turns out it was Lei Ming! Like, what?! So now all of us are going through all the tents to try to..”

Yeah, the perfect white noise.

Mai took another sip of her tea and resumed reading her novel, nodding every now and again to give the bare minimum of pretending like she was listening. The book was boring, however, and her attention soon wandered off to people watching, looking at the busy market plaza just outside the window of the teahouse Ty Lee and her were sitting at. She heaved a sigh, and almost turned back to her book, when the appearance of a familiar uniform caught her attention.

“Hold on.” She raised a pale hand to her friend’s lips, cutting off her babble, and narrowed her eyes on the sigil that was now disappearing into the throng of the crowd.

“Wh’zzt?” Ty Lee mumbled under her fingers, and she let go and stood up.

“A lead. Come on.”

The person they were after was a stumbling woman, clutching her head in what seemed to be the result of day drinking. But what had really grabbed Mai’s attention was the gold-plated stamp of a coiled dragon hanging from her shoddy belt, glinting in a way that would tempt purse snatchers and pickpockets if not for the connotations it held.

Every person who worked for the banished prince had been given the talisman as condolence for their sacrifice in helping the boy on an impossible quest. The award was dressed with honor, but it had in reality meant that that soldier was the worst of the worst; an employee that even the Navy didn’t want to deal with, so they sent them to babysit a spoiled bald brat instead. It was such a blight on one’s records in the military that Mai was almost impressed the woman chose to wear it so brazenly like that.

But that also meant she held the boy in high regard, almost like she was still in touch with him.

Mai wasn’t deaf; she knew about the swelling propaganda surrounding the exiled prince. More and more of the common folk were buzzing with tales and folklore of how the prince would swoop in and steal the crown from the Fire Lord’s head. His appearance at the invasion certainly didn’t help; some now-fired pikemen were ecstatic to tell how they ended up face-to-face with the urban legend as they drowned their meager pension at seedy bars.

No one was brave enough yet to talk about it in the open public, lest they catch the attention of the royal ears.

 Mai moved with swiftness, Ty Lee at her heels, as they expertly weaved through the crowd. It took only seconds to catch up with the woman, and a breath more to hoist her by the elbows and drag her into a nearby alleyway.

Mai held a dagger to the woman’s throat and asked coldly, “Where is he?”

The woman struggled, face flush with liquor and anger, but her actions were quickly stopped once Ty Lee prodded at her nerves.

“Th’hell are ye talking about, girl?” she spat instead, glaring hatefully, and Mai sighed heavily before pressing the tip of her blade hard enough against her throat to draw blood.

“Where. Is. He.”

No answer except curses and groans. 

Ty Lee chirped helpfully, “She’s talking about Zuko, by the way!” like it wasn’t obvious that was who Mai was referring to.

Yet for some reason the woman’s eyes lost their cloud of confusion, “Why the hell would I know where the prince is, I haven’t seen him since the Wani was decommissioned.”

“That trinket of yours is telling me otherwise.” Mai snatched the talisman from her hip and held it up to her face, examining it, “Such a garish thing, I can’t imagine why you would risk wearing it like that.”

“ Hey! ” The woman lurched forward in a surprising show of strength, uncaring of the weapon at her neck, only held back by Ty Lee quickly slotting her arms between and yanking up, bracing the soldier’s shoulders back. “Give that back, witch!”

Mai just snorted and pocketed the token, “Come on, let’s see if the Dai Li can do anything with her.”

“And if they can’t?” Ty Lee asked, busy tying the woman with cord after knocking her out with a swift chop to the base of her skull.

This time Mai grimaced.

“Then I guess I’ll have to write my uncle a letter.”

Sokka asked Zuko about where the Fire Nation might house high-profile prisoners a few days after Aang and he returned from their trip.

 The question immediately set him on alert, and he knew as soon as the other boy said he was “glad” to find out his father might be imprisoned in a volcano that Sokka was full of shit when he promised he wasn’t up to anything.

Though he will admit, watching Sokka jerk back and fall over in surprise when he realized Appa’s saddle had a firebender in it amused him in a way that reminded him of when he was still living on a ship.

“This is a bad idea, you know. Appa isn’t fireproof either, what were you planning on doing with him when you both got there?” Zuko huffed, arms crossed, unfazed when Sokka frantically shushed him in fear of waking the others.

“I know it’s stupid, okay! I know. But..” the Water Tribe boy trailed off and began picking up the stuff that fell out of his pack, “I have to do this. The invasion was my plan, and it’s my fault it went wrong. I have to regain my honor. There, happy?”

“I’m never happy.”

“Ok loser.” Sokka rolled his eyes, “Are you going to stop me then?”

“No, but we are not putting Appa in danger.”

“Well, what else are we going to do?” 

“Take a war balloon, duh.” Zuko rose to his feet and nimbly hopped off Appa, ignoring the confusion painting Sokka’s face as he walked towards the ridge he discovered led to the top of the cliff.

“Hey, uh, hothead? We don’t have a war balloon.”

“Yeah, we don’t.” Zuko’s eyes twinkled as he turned a bit to answer, “but that bounty hunter did.”

A day and a few awkwards conversations later, the walls of steam alerted the two that their destination was in sight.

When they cut through the steam, the war balloon immediately began losing altitude, which in turn made Sokka and Zuko run around the tiny deck like rooster-pigs with their heads cut off.

“Oh Yue! What the fuck do we do?!” Sokka whisper-screamed while Zuko desperately tried throwing flame into the balloon to get it to rise even a little. 

“I can’t get it to rise, we’re gonna crash!” Zuko gave up on his futile efforts and gripped the iron railing of the basket, leaning forward to check their trajectory. Behind him, he heard Sokka yelp, probably getting splashed by the water thrown up thanks to the balloon bouncing across the lake.

“Hot!”

“It’s a boiling lake, genius!” he hissed back, “No good. Brace for a rough landing!”

The balloon drifted horizontally before slamming into the rocky shore, throwing its two passengers onto stone and crumpling like paper in a hearth.

Zuko groaned, rubbing his shoulder where he landed on it, and glanced at the boy sprawled out next to him.

“Now what? We just lost our ticket out of here.”

“Sokka slumped, then rose slowly, turning a grief-stricken face to the balloon and sighing. He walked towards the mess and began pushing the ruined thing into the water.

“What are you doing?!”

“Look, we can’t fix it anyway, and if we leave it here they’re going to know we snuck in. Best to get rid of it now.”

Zuko harshly scrubbed his hair in irritation, because as shitty as the situation was, Sokka was right.

“This is crazy. You know that, right? How crazy this situation is?”

 “I didn’t even want you to come!” Sokka narrowed his eyes, “And I figured this was going to be a one-way ticket anyway. They wouldn’t leave an unmanned war balloon on their shores.”

“You planned on this happening?”

“No! I’m just-” Sokka looked up at the wall that separated them from the prison, “None of my plans have been really working lately. So I decided to play it by ear.”

“Yeah, okay, perfect time to try that.” Zuko snorted out a bright flame and dusted off his clothes. 

“How are we getting in?”

“...well, I was thinking that maybe you could scale the wall while-”

“I’m not carrying you.”

By some dumb stupid, only in the Avatar gang luck, they found guard uniforms without getting caught.

Zuko had to do most of the sneaking, though. Sokka wasn’t anywhere near as insufferable as Aang, but the boy couldn’t hear anything with the whistling steam and thick air that coated the place like a miasma, making it hard for someone not used to it to focus.

Zuko, however, couldn’t get enough of it.

The heat smoothed over his scales like a balm, and the steam filled his lungs like a tonic. He took like a fish to water to the environment, and was in charge of making sure they wouldn’t pass any guards or staff on their way to what smelt the most like the laundry room.

“Great.” Zuko muttered as he felt his horns clang harshly against the helmet he was trying to squeeze on. They had grown again, barely, but enough to start to branch out and become a nuisance when dealing with form-fitting headwear.

“Come on, we can’t stay long here.” Sokka was peeking at the door, already dressed, acting as a lookout.

“I know, just-” the helmet creaked and finally bent enough to fit over his head, “there!”

“Alright, let’s go.” 

The two set off down a random corridor, trying desperately to not look suspicious. They stopped at the sound of running, and soon a pack of guards were sprinting down the crossing hallway, one of them stopping in time to wave them over to help with a scuffle in the yard.

They were met with the sight of a heavyset guard and a burly prisoner circling each other, prisoners spectating the fight. 

Zuko got in position in time to watch the man summon a whip of flame and scorch the prisoner’s heel, snarling out a “Not so fast, Chit Sang!”

The action made Zuko bare his teeth in anger and take a step forward to put a stop to the abuse of power, and he was only stopped by Sokka gripping his forearm tightly.

“We can’t blow our cover.” He whispered, shaking his head, and that was enough to put Zuko back into position, fists clenched tight behind his back.

“I didn’t even do anything.” The prisoner said with a hint of weariness in his tone, making the guard laugh heartily and lean towards the two.

“He thinks he didn’t do anything. Cute, huh?” he grinned, then did a double-take and raised his visor when neither responded. The scrutiny made Zuko’s hackles raise, and his nails slid against each other, shrieking slightly.

“AHAHAHA, ADORABLE SIR!” Sokka cackled forcefully, pretending he wasn’t sweating with nerves the whole time, to cover up the sound. The guard snorted and turned his gaze back to the prisoner.

“You didn’t bow when I walked boy, Chit Sang. That’s against the rules, you know.” The man had a slimy grin on his face, and Zuko tried to steady his heartbeat enough to stop the smoke that had started to rise from his throat into his tightly clenched mouth.

The prisoner denied such a rule, and turned around to try to go back to his cell, only to whip back and deflect the line of fire the guard sent his way.

“Firebending is prohibited! Looks like you’re goin’ to the Cooler.” 

The guard pointed at Sokka, “You! Help me.”

“Meet back in an hour.” Sokka mumbled and hurried after the officer, hand on his head to hold his helmet in place.

The crowd dispersed quickly after that, and Zuko’s elbow was tugged by one of the guards to tell him it was time for lunch. He followed the crowd into the dining area, hoping that food would help calm him down and pass the time, and was beckoned over by a table while sorting out his tray.

“You know you don’t have to keep your helmet on when we’re in the lounge, right?”

“But what if there’s an incident? Someone could try to strike me on the head without warning.”

“With that bent piece of metal? I wouldn’t trust my spirit with that beat up thing, kid.” The woman snorted into her rice.

“Ah, well..” 

“Come on, sit! We won’t haze you.” The man sitting next to the one who called him over grinned jovially, and Zuko didn’t really have the heart to refuse.

“Can the new guy ask you a few questions?”

“No, you can’t date the female guards.” The woman said flatly, clutching her water cup.

“Trust me, you don’t want to.” The man closest to him fake-whispered, and was pelted in the temple with a cup as consequence, making their third companion laugh heartily.

Zuko was sharply reminded of his old crew, and swallowed the lump in his throat.

“That’s not it. I was wondering…The Boiling Rock holds hardened criminals, right?” He paused, only continuing when the three nodded, “So what about war prisoners?”

There weren’t any Water Tribe prisoners on the island.

Zuko watched as Sokka crumpled against the wall after telling him what he learned. The sight caused a knot to form in his stomach, a guilt that shouldn’t belong to him making its way through his body.

“So we came all this way for nothing.” Sokka palmed his forehead, covering his eyes in the process, but the quiver in his lip told Zuko exactly what kind of expression he was making.

“I’m really sorry, Sokka.” He offered lamely, not really sure what to do. Comforting was Uncle’s forte, and the most experience he had was dealing with Toph, who bounced back from everything after a couple minutes.

He looked around and cast his gaze on the clouds above. Maybe he could work with that?

He tried, saying something about dark and light and silver sandwiches, and he thought he might be a natural when Sokka seemingly brightened up at the end of his monologue and ran towards the railing, looking at something.

“Maybe we haven’t failed after all!”

“That’s the spirit! I can’t believe that worked.”

“Huh? No, what you said made no sense at all.” Sokka shot at him, deflating his ego almost immediately.

“But, look!” He got close to Zuko’s shoulder and pointed down at the plaza, “There! Do you see it?”

“What?”

“The girl getting off the gondola!” And when Zuko focused on where his finger was pointing, he saw a group of fresh prisoners being escorted off the gondola, a girl of slight stature standing in line with them, “That’s Suki!”

“That’s who?”

“I’ll explain on the way, come on!”

Apparently Suki was Sokka’s weird girlfriend-not-girlfriend, and Zuko guessed a little more that she wasn’t the one that turned into the moon either.

She also apparently kicked major ass too, going by her immediately trying to beat Sokka up when she thought he was just a guard trying to have some fun.

Things got a little quiet after that, and Zuko furiously ignored the blush spreading across his cheeks when he heard some sounds he would rather never think about again, but before he could get over it, he noticed a guard slowly making her way up the metal stairs.

He knocked on the door behind him to tell the two to hurry up, and prayed to any Spirit listening that she was going anywhere except Suki’s cell.

He kind of forgot how much the spirits hated him.

“Move, I need to talk to the prisoner.” The guard said gruffly, stopping in front of him and frowning when he made no move to do as she said.

“I can’t!”

“Why not?”

“Uh..she could..sneak up on you?”

“..Funny. Now move.” She put a hand on his shoulder to try to brush him to the side, and in a panic Zuko grabbed her wrist and twisted it behind her back to immobilize her. The woman shouted in pain and surprise, wiggling fiercely to break free.

“What are you doing?! Let go!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Zuko huffed, trying to clamp down as hard as he could without catching the thin skin of her wrists with his claws. Behind them, he heard the creak of the cell door open, and Sokka’s almost-quiet steps trying to sneak away.

“Hey! You, guard! Help, I think this one’s an intruder!” The woman called out, and that ended up being how Zuko was at the bottom of a four-man pile, elbows digging painfully in his back as his arms were pinned down thanks to the two extra guards that heard the cry for assistance. Sokka was directly on top of him, holding his shoulders down with a fake bravado while also trying to not hurt him.

“I’ll figure it out, don’t worry.” He mumbled by his good ear, and Zuko clacked his teeth in annoyance.

“This guy’s a freak. Ever hear of nail clippers, fella?” One of the guards sitting on his arm poked at his hand, and almost startled off when Zuko scraped them across the ground sharply in retaliation.

“Hey, enough of that!” The other one slapped harshly on the helmet, making his horns ache.

He was roughly hoisted up to walk and was escorted to an empty room. Sokka was dismissed, and he couldn’t do anything but obey, shooting Zuko one last look of worry before disappearing deeper into the prison.

As soon as the door closed a pair of prisoner clothes were thrown at him and he was told to strip. He undressed quickly and methodically, trying to picture that he was in the barracks instead of a dark room with two guards watching his every move.

When he got to the helmet he paused, hands resting on the bottom. There was a chance they wouldn’t know who he was, maybe word about him hadn’t gotten this far.

He yanked on the helmet to pull it off and-

It was stuck.

“Are you kidding me?” Zuko fumed to himself, trying again and again to pry the helmet off, but it held true.

“Hey, what the hell are you doing?” One of the guard finally snapped, “Quit playing around.”

“I’m not.” Zuko growled out, and tried shaking his head to dislodge the stupid thing. Anger sparked in his chest, threatening to catch and blaze.

“Hurry up!” The other guard had joined now.

“I’m trying. ”

Zuko scrabbled at the helmet, claws screeching sharply as they gouged at the iron.

“Get off! ” Zuko roared, teeth snapping and fire spitting from his mouth, and with a shout, the helmet split in two, pieces of metal clinging to his fingertips.

He shook his head roughly to get any stray bits out and settle the feeling of having his horns and hair pressed tightly to his scalp, and when he turned to his two escorts, they both stood with mouths agape, hands that were pointed towards him lowered from shock.

The one on the left got over her surprise first and ordered him to sit in the lone chair, to which he complied, huffing roughly all the while.

They exited the room, closing the door and leaving him in the dark, awaiting whoever the hell was going to try to put him in his place.

Sokka met up with him again when he was mopping one of the halls with Suki. They were silent, awkward, and they both tried to ignore the whispers and points of the other prisoners. Without his guard disguise or his mask, Zuko’s features were on full display, and he felt sorely naked because of it.

The warden had taken great pleasure in finding out what kind of rat-vole he had caught. He insisted that Zuko be made to clean the most popular of places, so word would get out that he had one of the Avatar’s closest allies under his thumb. He wanted people to look at him, to whisper and laugh, and treat him like he was a one-man zoo.

As if Zuko didn’t deal with that before the scales.

“Oh good, you two have met.”

“Actually, we met a long time ago.” Suki said, and that made Zuko pause.

“What? We did?”

“Yeah, you…kinda burned down my village.”

And Zuko felt horrible for realizing that that information didn’t really narrow anything down, but instead of saying that, he went with an apology.

“It’s nice to see you again.”

“Is it?”

“Ok listen, gather up.” Sokka tucked himself against the side of the stairwell and crouched down, the other two following suit, “I think I have an escape plan.”

“Really? That’s great!” Suki grinned, and Sokka turned a bit bashful at the praise.

“I checked out the Coolers, to see how exactly they keep firebenders contained. They work by keeping all the cold in, right?” 

“Yeah?” Zuko tilted his head to the side.

“But to do that, they gotta keep all the heat out ! It’s completely insulated, which means it's the perfect boat for us to float across the lake.”

The two sat there, thinking about it, and Suki asked, “But how are you going to get the Cooler out?”

“Yeah, how are you gonna get the Cooler out?” A voice asked from above, and Zuko squawked and scrambled back in time to avoid getting landed on by the prisoner who they had met fighting with the guard when they first arrived.

“Wa-Th-Uhm-Y-You heard wrong, hahaha!” Sokka scrambled in a panic.

“Yeah, you heard wrong.” Zuko glared at the newcomer

“Really? I thought I heard you guys talking about hatching an escape plan.”

“What, no! The only thing we’re hatching is…an egg?” Sokka offered weakly, and Zuko felt himself die a little on the inside.

“Well, either way, I want in.” Chit Sang insisted, and his expression only twitched when Zuko bared his fangs at him.

“There’s nothing to get in on.”

A beat, then, “Really? Then I guess it won’t matter if I tell the Warden about this lil get-together then.” Chit Sang slapped his knee and began to rise, stopping only at Sokka’s frantic waving.

“Wait, wait! Okay, you’re in.” He sighed, and Chit Sang smiled triumphantly while sitting back down.

“First thing we’re going to need to do is get Zuko inside.”

The larger man leaned forward, grin turning a touch nasty.

“Oh, I can get you inside.”

Which led to Zuko facing off against Chit Sang in the cafeteria, running his tongue along his teeth to steele his nerves while onlookers were whooping and cheering for bloodshed.

The guy was a decent actor, even if the way he delivered his lines were a little flat, but Zuko tried to make up for it by puffing up and hissing steam in false anger.

“Watch who you’re shoving!” He snarled, and Chit Sang grabbed his arms and threw him into a more open space in hopes of enticing the guards.

“I think you mean whom I’m shoving!”

They grappled each other with faked exertion, only noticeable by the way Zuko kept his fingers spread out to avoid real damage.

Sokka shouted for backup while Chit Sang threw the prince to the ground and followed him with an elbow, nearly clipping his eye as Zuko rolled out of the way.

A little irked, he growled deep in his throat. Fake or not, losing a fight would sting any prideful beast. So he put more heat in his flame than he needed, pupils tightening to slits from the resulting brightness and fire tinged with colors he hadn’t really noticed before.

Chit Sang jumped high to avoid the attack, and that was that.

A guard came and immediately restrained him, hissing a bit from the heat coming off his arms, and he was roughly yanked in the direction of the Coolers.

But for some reason, he wasn’t taken there directly. Instead, he was placed in another empty room, but this one had a chair bolted to the floor, restraints hanging off it. 

Zuko was shoved into the chair and the metal cuffs were tightened over his wrists, arms, legs, ankles, and chest.

“Is all this really necessary?” He muttered, and the guard restraining him didn’t reply.

Pretty soon another guard appeared, the one that had feuded with Chit Sang. He had a grin on his face and was holding something unidentifiable in his hand thanks to the backlight.

“Orders from the Warden, mutt. Couldn’t even last a day it seems.” The man cackled and approached.

He reached a hand towards Zuko’s scarred side, and out of instinct the boy snapped at it, catching the tip of a digit before his hair was violently grabbed and yanked back by the guard behind him.

“Fuck!” The man shouted, gripping his wounded hand in pain. He examined the damage, then looked back up with fury in his eyes.

“You’ll pay for that!”

Even with his hair being pulled tightly, Zuko still bared his teeth and tried to tug free when the man got close again.

His eyes widened, then shut to brace for the incoming pain, but at first all he felt was something cold pressed against his face.

It was just uncomfortable at first, and then the guard fiddled with something and all of a sudden the pressure was much, much greater.

Zuko opened his eyes to see what in Agni’s name he put on him, and felt a chill down his spine when a shiny fencing appeared just where his nose would be.

“Won’t be biting anyone with that thing on now, brat.” The guard tapped his cheek and grabbed the snout of the muzzle, teasing him by roughly tugging it around as if to show off how hard it would be to shake off.

Zuko snarled, mortified, trying to shake his head to dislodge the straps that went over his forehead, cheeks, and jaw to keep the muzzle in place.

“Get this off, now. ” He warned, voice warping into something both airy and throaty.

“Hell no! Now come on.” The restraints binding his limbs loosened and he was in a firm hold before he could do anything more than gnash his teeth, “Time to get you in the Cooler.”

Chapter Text

This had to have been one of the worst things Zuko had ever agreed to.

He sat there shivering, hatefully glaring at the dull gray door of the Cooler he was currently locked up in. The muzzle pressed firmly against his face dug into his nose painfully, growing heavier as time went by. The signature cold of Zuko’s solitary confinement space creeped into his veins and up throughout his body, only held back by his inner fire circling dutifully.

Zuko desperately wished he could huff out a flame or two to aid his chi in regulating his body temperature, but doing so would run the risk of melting the muzzle, and he had no desire to find out what the guards would do once they saw evidence of tampering.

Finally, after what felt like days, Zuko heard a knock.

The door swung open, and Sokka’s lanky frame filled up his view.

“I can take you back to your cell if you’ve learned your lesson.” He stated haughtily, chin raised.

Zuko blinked, slow, and lifted his head slightly, “Yes, I have.”

He shifted a bit, lowering the arms braced over his own shoulders to reveal the pile of bolts and screws he had safely deposited in the body of his shirt, “Completely.”

“...Wait, did something happen while we got separated?” Sokka raised the visor of his helmet, blinking incredulously and pointing to the muzzle strapped to Zuko’s face.

“No, I just decided to go for a new look. Like it?” Zuko said tiredly, and felt a much-needed glimmer of amusement warming his chest at the look Sokka shot back in return.

“Okay well, Suki and Chit Sang are already out of their cells. The plan is to meet them at the shore and get out of this place.” Sokka pointedly did not continue on the topic of Zuko’s latest fashion statement and shifted to something more serious.

Zuko nodded, a sense of relief washing over him for a moment at the prospect of this ordeal finally being over, but it was short-lived as he picked up the tell-tale signs of metal heels clanging on the walk.

“Quick, someone’s coming!” Zuko yanked on the collar of Sokka’s armor, dragging him inside and forcefully shutting the Cooler. They both held their breath as the sound of footsteps grew nearer, soon accompanied with the idle chatter of two guards making their rounds.

“Yeah, new arrivals coming at dawn.”

“Anyone interesting?”

The voices of a man and a woman crept down the hall, coming closer and closer to where Zuko and Sokka had pressed themselves by the door.

“Nah, just what we normally get. Some robbers, a couple of traitors, some war prisoners. Though I heard there might be a pirate!”

“Huh, no kiddin’.”

The voices faded at that, and Zuko turned to his friend, already seeing that they both picked up on the same thing.

“It could be your father.” He said quietly, still wary after almost getting caught.

“But it might not be.” Sokka immediately shot back, though he looked conflicted, brow furrowed and eyes shaking as he stared at the floor.

“What should we do then?”

“I-” he bit his lip, then raised his gaze to meet with Zuko’s, "I don’t know. Would it even be right for me to risk the chance for Suki’s freedom, our freedom, on the off-chance my dad might show up?”

Zuko didn’t really know what to say, lightly flexing his fingers before finally settling with, “It’s your call, Sokka.”

The boy turned away from him, lost in thought.

In the end, it had been the right choice to make.

They had stayed behind; him, Sokka, and Suki, while Chit Sang and his crew chanced the initial plan.

The result was of them getting caught after underestimating how grueling it would actually be to slowly sail across a boiling lake. The sound of Chit Sang’s scream of pain still rang faintly in Zuko’s ears when they all watched the gondola full of new prisoners with baited breath. One by one the arrivals emerged, faces dark and eyes somber as they took in their new home. A few guards were running around in an attempt to keep the peace after the failed escape attempt, blocking the view from time to time, which made Sokka’s neck stretch further and further out as he tried to not miss a single second of the delivery.

Finally, the last passenger disembarked, and the air buzzed with disappointment when there was no sight of the water tribesman.

“No.” Sokka whispered, hands tight on the rail he was clenching.

“I’m sorry, Sokka.” Suki put a gentle hand on his shoulder in an attempt to soothe, while Zuko hung back, thinking it better to leave her to comfort the boy rather than clumsily try himself.

“Hey, you! Get off the gondola.” A cold voice snapped harshly, drawing them all out of their funk. The three turned their attention back to the gondola, just in time to see a man slowly emerge from the shadows, head held high and footsteps steady.

“Dad…it’s dad!”

Sokka bolted for the courtyard before his companions could speak, Zuko taking a step after him before remembering himself. Right, Suki and he were still prisoners.

“Come on, he’ll rendezvous with us later. We need to get back to our cells before someone notices.” The girl turned to him, amusement in her eyes lingering after watching Sokka run off. Zuko nodded, and they snuck back in without further incident.

After what felt like forty minutes, he heard a knock on his cell door.

“It’s me.” Sokka hissed out, and he slid the latch for the peephole open.

“Everything go well?”

“Don’t worry, Dad and I thought of a new plan to get out of here.” Sokka grinned brightly, the gloom he was wearing during the entire trip nowhere in sight now.

But he only had time to take another breath before he was interrupted with two guards.

“Hey, what the hell are you up to?” A female guard called out, irritated. 

“Huh?”

“Move aside, we got orders straight from the warden to take that guy with us.” Her companion grumbled out, and Zuko heard the clank of armor as they got closer to where Sokka was. 

“C-can I just have ten seconds to really rough him up a bit, get my frustrations out? You know we all need something like that from time to time.” Sokka pleaded nervously, and there was a pause.

“Fine. Ten seconds.”

Zuko felt like a damn fool holding a pillow to his stomach and pretending to let out soft groans of pain while Sokka mock-punched him, but at least the act came with good news about how exactly they were all going to get out of this hellhole.

“Alright, alright! You had your fun, now get out.” The door was slammed open and Sokka grabbed Zuko in a chokehold in panic, making the elder snap his teeth in anger.

“A-ahaha. Can’t do much while wearing that thing, huh?” Sokka jeered, trying to put on a show for his coworkers, and Zuko growled low in his chest in response. His new escorts each took him by the arm and cuffed him before leading him out of his cell to some other room. Zuko peeked over his shoulder to catch Sokka lean out of the now-abandoned cell and press his hands together, begging for forgiveness.

The growl teetered off into a purr, and he got a smack upside his head for his trouble.

They threw him into a dark room with a chair sitting innocently in the center, the metal of his muzzle clanking painfully on the wood. He whipped around the glare at his guards, and the scent of blade oil and yellowed pages greeted him.

“Well, looks like I finally found you.” Mai stated dully, watching him from her spot against the wall. 

Zuko stared at her, blinking incredulously. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had seen the girl. She looked different, colder, but still had that familiar air about her. 

“Mai.” He finally rasped out.

“Took you long enough to get here. I guess my little hunch about using your lackeys was right.” She twirled a blade between her fingers and sighed, “It was a real pain dealing with those two, you know.”

What?

“What are you talking about? Why are you even here?” 

That made the girl pause for a moment, “You mean you aren’t here for them?”

His heart in his throat as he frantically tried to figure out who she could be referring to, Zuko chose to stay silent.

“Hey, answer me. If you aren’t here for the drunk and the old man then what the hell were you thinking coming here?”

Old…?

“Are you talking about my uncle? He’s here?!” Zuko gripped onto the chair tightly, barely aware of the creaking of the wood. He felt as if he was free-falling through the sky.

But it was short-lived, “No, we don’t have the fool. I’m talking about your captain and the drunkard.” She took something out of her sleeve and threw it at him. When he caught it, he felt the familiar etchings of a coiled dragon.

‘ This is..’

Zuko bit his lip. Jee was here? But who was the drunkard? As far as he could remember, everyone on the Wani enjoyed fire whiskey with the same levels of enthusiasm.

“Why are you doing this?” He finally settled on.

Mai pocketed her knife, seemingly bored of playing with it, “I have orders from the Princess to figure out what exactly it is you’re trying to do. You’ve been a real headache to the Crown, you know; you and your little crew. Had me and Ty Lee sprinting towards every little orphan that had a snippet of information on the Dragon’s Heir. My feet hurt.”

“I-Sorry.” 

Mai snorted, “If you’re so sorry, then tell me why the hell you thought it was a good idea to come back to the Fire Nation.”

Zuko dug his nails further into the wood of the chair, “I think you can guess as to why.”

“Well, I’m sure it wasn’t to see me.” Mai pushed herself off the wall and walked towards Zuko, gaze flitting between the horns on his head and the claws tipping his fingers and the cold metal pressed harshly on his face.

“But it looks like we’ve both changed a lot since the last time we could talk like this.”

“...Mai, listen. You know Azula as well as I do, maybe even more. You know she can’t become the Fire Lord.” Zuko slowly eased his grip on the chair and licked his teeth, nervous.

“Hm.”

“It isn’t too late to switch sides. What if you came with me?”

Mai barked a dry laugh at that, “Go with you? Like I’m some kind of woman in need of rescuing? Zuko, you really do love your little stories.”

“Mai-!”

“My place is at her side. Ty Lee and I are the last thing keeping her from going mad at the behest of our oh so wise ruler. You know I don’t want to see you dead, Zuko, but I have a duty of my own.”

“But-”

He was cut off when a guard scrambled into the room, panting.

“My lady, a riot’s broken out in the courtyard!”

“A riot?” Mai raised a brow sharply. Absently, Zuko wondered if this was Sokka’s plan-to-end-all-plans set in motion.

“I’ve been sent here to protect you.” The guard saluted, and stiffened a bit when all he got in response was a scoff.

“I don’t need protection.” Mai faced him further in annoyance, letting Zuko out of her sight.

“Believe me, she really doesn’t.” Zuko laughed, then punched flame right at the guard’s boots.

Hakoda distantly wondered if more time had passed since the Day of the Black Sun than he thought.

Sokka looked the same, still had his chin and his mother’s nose, still had a tribesman’s hands full of calluses and hard work. But the air around him was different, more mature in a way that made Hakoda’s chest hurt when he thought about how much he’s missed.

Sokka had told him of how he had even arrived on this La-forsaken island, and if he wasn’t so busy crushing his son to his chest in a hug he would’ve knocked him upside the head for putting himself in danger like that just to save Hakoda.

Then again, he would have probably done the same exact thing.

So here they were now, part one of the plan in action thanks to the large firebender who insisted on joining them.

“Are you sure the Prince doesn’t need help escaping?” He asked Sokka, leaning against a warm metal wall in hopes of not drawing the ire of any rampaging prisoners or guards.

“He should be fine.” But Sokka chewed his lip when he said that, and that raised the tiniest of alarms.

Hakoda opened his mouth to ask again, but was interrupted by the sound of a heavy grunt to his left, and suddenly there was a blur of red and black barreling towards them.

“Sorry I’m late!” 

The Prince screeched to a halt in front of them, panting and gripping something tightly in his hand and a muzzle strapped tightly to his face.

Hakoda’s eyes widened at the sight, clenching his fist. How long had the boy been wearing such a thing?

“Zuko! Glad you can make it. We still need to take the Warden hostage.” Sokka pulled him closer to the wall and further out of view. He seemed unfazed by the Prince’s newest accessory.

What on earth had happened while he was imprisoned?

“And you have a plan for that, right?”

“...”

“Sokka.”

“Okay well, hadn’t the lesson this whole trip been that sometimes it’s okay to play it by ear?” Sokka threw his hands skyward in defiance.

“Not when you’re trying to get the warden .”

“Can’t you get him?! You have crazy dragon powers now. Go and growl at him or something!”

“Yeah, alright, let me just use my wings to get over this giant crowd in a few seconds. Oh wait. ”

“You know that’s not what-”

“Uh, guys.” The largest of their group interrupted the heated argument, “I think your girlfriend’s got a handle on this.”

Hakoda leaned around the man to see Suki bouncing along the heads of the swarm and scaling the walls with an unnatural ease.

“...Zuko, Suki isn’t related to you, right?”

“Not that I’m aware of.” 

The Fire Princess was here, because of course she was.

They had made it out to the gondola and were halfway to freedom when the firebender and her retainer decided to show off some of the most insane maneuvers he had ever seen, scaling the gondola line and gaining on the boat with a swiftness that only came from years and years of training. 

Sokka and his friends scrambled to the roof to intercept, and Hakoda was cursing every fiber of himself for being dead weight when he had no tempered steel in his grasp.

Wisps of blue and orange fire peeked out down the sides of the car, accompanied by harsh stomps and the swishing of Sokka’s sword.

“Love the new look, Zuzu.” He heard a titter, and the metal of the ceiling harshly bent down, like a cannonball had dropped from the sky. Faintly, he could make a snarl out. 

“CUT THE LINE.” A shout brings Hakoda out of his worried state, and he whips around in time to see Chit Sang grapple the newly freed warden back into his binds, one giant palm stamped over his mouth.

A few more beats and the whole car shutters, making Hakoda throw himself against the rail. Sparks catch his line of sight, and he sees two soldiers sawing at the gondola’s line.

“They’re going to cut the line!” The princess’s companion shouted out, and Hakoda could just barely make out the girl standing on the corner of the roof if he leaned out far enough.

“Then it’s time to leave.” Azula and her friend leapt onto another gondola coincidentally passing by on the second line, out of harm's way, like the world wanted them to win. Hakoda blinked after them in disbelief, and almost fell on his ass when the gondola shook again .

“Who the hell is that?!” He heard his son shout out, and he turned his attention back to the deck of the prison.

He saw the soldiers that were crowded around the deck had ceased trying to cut down the line to focus their attention on two figures. One was of a tall, familiar looking man, hands out towards the crowd, while the other was a woman who seemed preoccupied wrestling a saber away from a nearby prison guard

“That’s-” He heard the prince, and then he saw the prince pounce onto the steel rope of the gondola, scaling it on all fours with surprising speed.

“Zuko, come back!”

The shout made the two newcomers turn their attentions towards the gondola, and Hakoda finally realized he was looking at one of the firebenders that had accompanied them during the day of the Black Sun.

“Ahoy there, Prince!” The woman called out, waving her newly acquired sword in the air. 

“Himiko, Jee!” Zuko responded, and seemed to go even faster.

“Not another step, boy!”

At the command, Zuko screeched to a halt, the sound of his nails grating against the metal of the rope ringing in Hakoda’s ears, and Spirits Above, did he see sparks ?

Jee said something else it looked like, his stance turning a bit more towards the party, and it seemed Zuko could hear it if his reaction meant anything. The boy clutched at the rope, hesitating, and then turned on his heel and reunited with everyone else on the gondola. Hakoda kept watching even when everyone was safely back in the cabin; Jee was shooting flame to corral straying guards away from the woman, Himiko, as she struck down the guards and kicked away the saw.

“Who is that, Zuko?” Sokka asked as they all crowded around Hakoda, joining him.

“Uhm, I don’t know if you remember Captain Jee. Himiko was one of my crew too, before…” the firebender trailed off, choosing to grip the metal of the gondola. Below, the scene had changed dramatically when the Princess finally alighted on the docks. She threw blue flame and circled the two, until eventually they surrendered and were clapped in cuffs.

Zuko was tense as a dead knot, not moving until Hakoda had to physically pry him off.

“Come on,” he said gruffly, “the gondola’s stopped.”

“I should- I should help them. They’re going to get killed, aren’t they?” Zuko swallowed, and not looking away from the island as he was pulled along.

“They’ll be fine. Not even the Princess would kill them without the Fire Lord’s permission.” Hakoda tried to reassure, tried to pull him out of this phase the boy was in, and it seemed like it wouldn’t work until Zuko finally let out an unsteady breath and turned away.

Chit Sang threw the Warden into the gondola and sent it back down, grinning all the while.

“How are we going to get out of here?” Suki wondered. Beside her, Sokka was mussing up his hair.

“My sister. She had to get here somehow, right?” Zuko spoke up, and without prompting led the group to a parked warship. Everyone started to slowly make their way down to the beach, and it was until Hakoda almost hit sand did he realize the teen was not among them.

He looked up, seeing Zuko still at the top of the hill, gazing back again where his former crewmen were still trapped, fists clenched. 

“Zuko.” He called out, and the boy shook his head and began his descent. When he finally reached the bottom, Hakoda put a gentle hand on a shaking shoulder.

“Come on, let’s get that ugly thing off you.”

Katara almost had a meltdown after first being subjected to the knowledge that they went to a high-security prison on the off-chance Sokka and her’s father was there, then she was swept up in overwhelming joy when she actually saw her father descend the warship (which, might she add, gave her a different kind of heart attack when it landed straight on the edge of their camp). Then she felt a burning fury at the sight of nasty twisted metal clinging to Zuko’s face.

“What happened?!” She asked them, and in return she got every person trying to not meet her eyes, all with varying degrees of success.

“Nothing much.” Sokka laughed nervously, and then he was almost thrown to the dirt when a stranger slapped him on the back and laughed joyously.

“Ah, I’ve missed this kind of air!” The giant man said with glee.

“Woah, who’s this guy?” Toph asked besides her.

“Name’s Chit Sang. I’ll be roughing it with you guys for a bit.” 

Katara looked him up and down, noting the prison garb straining against his frame and the wickedness of his grin.

She decided to put a pin in that.

“Come with me.” She turned to Zuko, and grabbed his arm without waiting for an answer. She led him to the fountain and made him sit on its edge so she could better access the back of the muzzle.

“Seriously, how on Earth do you always end up in these crazy situations?” she muttered, mostly to herself, trying to find the latch where all the metal connected.

“Sorry.” was what she got in reply, and it did nothing to soothe the knots in her belly.

“Toph, come get this thing off him.” she finally called over after a minute of no luck. The straps themselves were of a flexible metal, stuck in position thanks to a locking device in the back.

“Get what off who?”

“Who else?” Katara huffed, and made way for the earthbender, Zuko turned towards Toph, and it felt kind of weird to think about it but the sight of him bending down to let the girl work her magic reminded Katara of those sad puppy-seals mistakenly trapped in fishing nets begging to be set free.

Toph made a face when she finally could feel what she was working with, and seemingly without a second thought stretched the metal away and off Zuko’s head.

“Please tell me you did something cool to get that on you. Did you bite a guard?”

“No, sorry.” Zuko shook his head, finally free, huffing out smoke like he had a pipe between his lips.

He then promptly bowled Toph over trying to rub his face all over her.

“What the hell, Sparky!” she shouted out, hands still caught up in the mess that was once a muzzle. She flailed and pushed against his face harshly, which only caused him to dip his cheek harder against her palm.

“Toph, why are you giving Zuko scritches?” Aang sidled up to watch the scene, his hands twitching at his sides.

Oh, Spirits.

The question made Toph bark out a laugh, and she went from pushing Zuko away to rubbing his face, digging her nails in his scalp and causing him to purr.

“Sorry.” He was barely understandable through the rumble, “It’s just-the smell it left- and I couldn’t really-”

Toph just cackled harder, and Katara knew she would bring this up for the rest of her life. Aang finally couldn’t take it anymore and joined her, patting the top of Zuko’s head and yelping when he got tackled by a firebender in return.

“Katara.” Sokka finally joined her. They both watched as Zuko huffed out a flame and almost caught Aang’s robe on fire.

“I know, Sokka.”

The next morning Azula had found them.

It was a peaceful few hours before she had decided to move in, Katara supposed. Dad had caught them all up on what had happened while they were separated, and they in turn told him what the plan was. 

He seemed a bit skeptical when the dancing dragon part was brought up, but overall was onboard with their idea. 

Zuko had resumed training with Aang immediately after their cuddle party was over and Katara didn’t see a single tattoo or scale until the deep hours of the night, when she was practically the only one still awake.

Aang had blearily waved at her before collapsing onto his bedroll, Momo bounding over and curling on top of his head immediately. Zuko looked more alert, murmuring a greeting as he settled by the fire with her.

“Can’t sleep?”

“Not really. Been an exciting day.” Katara glanced over her shoulder at her father’s sleeping form, still not quite believing it.

“Tell me about it.” Zuko leaned back on his palms, tearing his gaze away from the fire to stare at the ceiling instead. Silence crept between them again, nothing but the sounds of snores and the crackle of the fire breaking it.

Katara took a deep breath and decided to go for it, “Zuko, can I ask you something?”

“Hm?” Zuko glanced at her briefly.

“...the people at that prison you were in. Were any of them in the navy?”

“A few.”

“Were any sent out to the South?”

There was a beat, and then Zuko sat up a little more, twisting to look at Katara head-on, “What are you asking me?”

“It’s-it’s a bit silly, but..” Katara fiddled with her hair and looked into the fire, “seeing those outfits, seeing Dad wearing that outfit, it made me think about how the Fire Nation had taken away one parent from me, and how close I was to losing another.” There was a sudden burning behind her eyes as she said her thoughts aloud, and blinked harshly to combat it.

“I just want to know if there’s a chance. To see if I can do something to them for once.” She gripped her hair a little tighter, and only snapped out of it when her scalp prickled at the pain.

Zuko was silent for a few beats, just looking at her, and Katara didn’t want to see the gold in his eyes, not caught up in her own thoughts as she was. 

She didn’t want to see what Zuko was seeing at that moment.

Then he sighed heavily and flopped down on the dirt, looking quite reluctant.

“The only ones that come to mind are the Southern Raiders.”

Katara sat up straighter, rapt.

“They were a platoon mostly focused on rounding up waterbenders in the South. They were relocated before I began naval training, but I have an idea on where their main ship should be stationed.” 

“You aren’t going to try to talk me out of it?”

“I’d be a hypocrite if I did.” Zuko stretched his fingers in the stone, light enough to not wake the others but strong enough to make tiny cuts in the earth.

Katara didn’t really know what he was referring to with that. As bull-brained and monstrous as he was back when he was chasing them and bald, he didn’t seem the type to inflict serious family trauma on a whole tribe.

“Can we go tonight then?” She asked, hopeful, but Zuko was already curling up closer to the fire.

“Tomorrow.” He mumbled, and left Katara alone with her thoughts for minutes longer.

Then Azula fucking found them.

They had all scrambled out of their bedrolls after the mother of all rude awakenings, complete with a cackling she-devil and a fleet of airships raining fire on the temple.

Katara and Hakoda began rounding up everyone to the tunnel Toph and Haru had punched out while Zuko bolted towards the edge of the crag, throwing a warning flame at the bed of a ship before being blacked out by a rising shadow.

He ran towards his cackling sister like a lunatic and that was the last Katara saw of him when the rubble started falling heavier and heavier, shaking the walls and pillars around them the longer it went on.

She tried, desperately, to get Appa into the tunnel, where everyone was waiting, where her father was waiting, but it was useless.

She didn’t want to consider splitting up again, not when they had finally reunited.

“It won’t be forever.” Dad tried to reassure her, and she knew they had no choice, but Spirits Above was she sick of this happening again and again.

All because of the Fire Nation.

So they split the group, and managed to reach Zuko just as he was in the middle of a freefall straight to his doom, because their prince seemed to not know the first thing about keeping himself from getting killed.

Azula seemed to learn it from him, judging by how she defied all logic in avoiding falling all on her own.

“Is it like a requirement for everyone from the Fire Nation to be insane?” Suki asked, later, when they were a decent distance away from the danger.

Zuko rubbed the back of his neck, but didn’t answer.

Aang and Sokka were against the idea.

Aang she could understand, honestly. Even though the kid went through one of the greatest tragedies in history, he was the most chipper guy Katara knew. He always told them about the monk’s teachings, so she knew how important letting things go was for him.

Sokka, on the other hand, totally had her blindsided.

“This is our mother , Sokka. Don’t you want to finally put her to rest?” Katara asked the boy, incredulous. Beside her, Zuko stood with an awkwardly oversized travel bag slung on his shoulders.

“This isn’t what she would’ve wanted, Katara, I know that. You know that.”

“You don’t know anything.” She hissed back, bunching her fists. “You weren’t there, you didn’t see what they did to her, and you’ll NEVER understand the way she felt like I did.”

“Katara..” Sokka looked at her like she had told him she was the one who called the Fire Nation to their village. It made her guts twist, and she felt bile in the back of her throat once her words caught up to her, but it was too late now.

“We’re going.” She said instead of apologizing, because she couldn’t back down now, not when she was so close to finally putting her heart to ease.

She strode past the two, scaly prince at her flank, and didn’t look back.

The man was pathetic.

He was sniveling, cowering in the mud and rain, begging for his life, and Katara felt a swift coldness take over her core.

All that work, all that tracking, all that pain , just for the big bad who ruined her life to be some old man who would sell out his mother to save his own skin.

“Please, mercy.” The man, Yon Rha, kowtowed again and again, each bow sending shivers down her spine.

“Well?” Zuko snarled beside her, lips curled and eyes trained on the main, watching for any aggression.

She straightened her spine and hurled the icicles at the trembling figure-

“So?” Aang asked next to her, swinging his legs idly.

“I couldn’t do it.” Katara muttered out, tossing a rock into the water in front of them. They were camped out at some vacation house, isolated on a beach, a place Zuko recalled vaguely enough to guide them there.

“I’m proud of you.” Aang put his hand over hers between them briefly, his touch warm and comforting, and Katara could feel the tears welling up; from frustration, from tiredness, from relief, she didn’t know.

“I’ll never forgive him.” She swallowed the wave of emotions down and rose from the rickety pier they were sitting on. “But I’ll let it go, for now at least.”

“Hm, well, it’s a good first step.” Aang bounced up to meet her, and together the two turned towards the beach where everyone was unloading Appa. Katara watched them, and could see Zuko snapping at Momo after the lemur tried snatching something shiny hanging at his hip.

The boy looked a lot different than he did during their trip to find Yon Rha.

“Why are you helping me anyway?” She had asked, “Murderer or not, isn’t he one of your people?”

“There are many things the Fire Nation should not be forgiven for,” Zuko had told her, “ and I have no part in dipping my brush to influence this particular story. This is about your closure, and I will help you when you need it.”

She won’t ever tell him this, but he sounded a bit like a chief when he said that.

“You want to do what?”

“Look, it’ll be fun!” Sokka begged, clutching a poster advertising the showing of the adventures of them , apparently.

“No way.” Zuko said flatly, crossing his arms. He knew exactly who the clowns running this play were, and he wanted no part in it.

“Someone’s allergic to fun.” Suki leaned on Sokka’s shoulder, and the boy nodded sadly, the both of them looking at Zuko with enough pity to make him bristle.

“Say that again.”

“Come on! Please? This is exactly the kind of nonsense we’ve all desperately been needing.” Sokka turned to the rest of the group, and Zuko could already see the opinions leaning towards the Water Tribe boy’s favor. Agni.

Which meant he was dressed in a stuffy cloak that dropped his peripheral to zilch and the stuffy mask he wore when helping Katara that wouldn’t let his skin take in the warm wet air it was desperately missing, instead making him sit in his own heat.

He didn’t want to think about why else he wasn’t so particularly fond of having something tight on his face.

The show began with what he assumed was how Katara and Sokka met Aang, and how his crew had run into them. He only snorted at the caricature of himself and the others, but during the scenes of how his counterpart would yell at the actor playing his Uncle, he would dig his nails into his arm a bit. He felt like a fool, sitting there whittling the time away while his Uncle was still out there, probably trying to fix all his mistakes, probably glad he didn’t have to deal with a moody nephew anymore.

“My jokes are way better than that!” Sokka snapped him out of his brooding. The lights had risen for the first intermission. Zuko followed the group out to an empty balcony.

“At least your actor looks like you.” Aang grumbled into the hand supporting his chin, looking very put-upon.

“Come on, you guys, you know it’s an over-exaggeration. It’s not like I always burst into tears and constantly give speeches about hope, right?”

There was a beat.

“Guys?”
“Listen,” Toph spoke up, “I think it’s just time to realize that that playwright did his research. What you see on that stage is also a part of you.”

“Uh-huh.” Sokka said, sounding very unconvinced, and Zuko silently agreed.

But Toph’s words hung a bit heavier once they returned for the second act.

Zuko’s actor now had a wild mop of hair and cardboard horns. And dragon wings, for some reason.

“I simply cannot deal with you like this anymore!” The man playing Uncle cried out incredulously.

“Leave me alone, old man! Don’t travel with me ever again.” The other spat, and then tucked one arm to his side and raised the other to the sky, lifted in the air by the rope tied around his waist.

“What.”

“You can fly?” Aang peered at his back, poking at his shoulder blades.

“No. Where the hell did they pick that up?”

Toph harshly shushed them, making Zuko grumble but hold his tongue from saying anything further.

Until of course when Jet got crushed by the boulder.

“Did-did Jet just die?”

“Y’know, it was really unclear.” Sokka rubbed his chin, and Zuko couldn’t really picture anything except Jet with googly eyes swinging at nothing until a rock gently squashed him.

Thank Agni he would never run into the boy again, not when he did so many embarrassing things during that time.

Then the scene immediately got topped by the one where Katara and he were trapped in the crystal caverns. Zuko could hardly remember anything that had occurred there, most of it a blur, and when the Katara on stage professed her love to him, he couldn’t help but side-eye her.

“That is not what happened.” the girl in question hissed, and they both turned to see the Zuko actor in a full dragon costume crouched docile while “Katara” pressed a palm to his paper-mache snout.

“I’m going to barf, I think.”

“Not yet, sparky.” Toph was leaning on her knees, fully invested, and it really was unfair that she was so content with how she had been written so far.

Beside him, Aang had gotten up in a huff and left towards the reception.

There was another intermission after a stale scene where Azula had shot lightning at Aang and Zuko almost ate his Uncle, and when they emerged from the theater room Katara immediately went off in search for the avatar.

Sokka and Suki ran towards the backstage area, leaving Toph and Zuko alone.

“Jeez everyone seems down. Even you, and that’s saying something.” Toph slid to sit next to him, kicking her feet out.

“Well yeah. We don’t all get big muscly dudes that take down ten bad guys at once and makes sassy remarks.”

“You could if you were way cooler.”

Zuko huffed a laugh and tugged his cloak down.

“Was I really like that, back then?” He thumbed the fabric over his nose and pulled it to his collar, taking advantage of the break to give himself time to recuperate.

“Like what?”

“Like-like when they had that guy biting people and eating pet birds.” He curled a bit tighter around himself, “Was I a monster like that too?”

“How should I know? We weren’t on the same team until we left the Earth Kingdom, remember?”

“Hmm.” Zuko could barely remember his time in Ba Sing Se, aside from when he worked in that tea shop with his Uncle and meeting the rest of the gang. The rest was a blur of emotions and blankness, leaving him floating until he stood up with blood on his teeth and horns on his head.

“But,” Toph punched him hard on the shoulder, almost shoving him down with the force, and he hissed in pain, “I know you now . And I don’t think you’re a monster.”

“Well, you not being able to see me probably doesn’t help.”

“Oh, you stupid-” she doesn’t finish, just gets to her knees and starts harshly rubbing her hands into his cheeks and across his face, flitting over his horns enough to trace their shape.

“Wow, how interesting, it’s Zuko.” she said flatly, and with a final pull on his ear, sat back down.

“Get over yourself, sparky. You see nothing once you see it all the time.”

This time Zuko barked out a flame from laughter.

“Alright, fine.”

“Fine.”

They sat in more amicable silence until a kid wearing an Aang costume ran by and complemented Zuko’s.

“Scar’s on the wrong side, though!”
He flipped his hood back up.

It was finally, finally almost time.

Azula could taste it in the back of her throat; the success, the glory, her standing at her father’s side as the world knelt at their feet.

The palanquin swayed too slowly to her liking, and she leaned out to snap at the bearer’s to hurry their steps. She would not tolerate looking so lowly in front of the Fire Lord.

After what seemed like an eternity, they had finally reached where the airships had docked, and she knelt faithfully at her Father’s feet.

She still knelt as her heart shattered at his words.

“There has been a change in plans.” He told her, looking out over the sea, voice steady.

Not bothering to turn and look her in the eyes.

“But, I-I thought we were going to do this together.” She said, frazzled, but no, no , not frazzled. Azula was never frazzled; she was always calm and always calculating and always perfect.

“My decision is final.” Was the cold reply.

And she felt her heartbeat in her ears, and her teeth aching, and something lashing deep in her belly, and so she snapped.

“I don’t deserve this, I don’t deserve to be treated like Zuko!” She rose to her feet, “It was my idea to burn everything to the ground, I deserve to be at your side!”

The Fire Lord jerked his head to look at her, and she was pierced in place by his cold glare.

“What I need,” he said evenly, “is for you to stay here and watch over the homeland in my stead.”

A pause.

“You mean..?”

“Yes, I have decided to declare you as the new Firelord.”

Euphoria .

“That-that does sound appropriate.” She finally managed out, trying desperately to hold back a wild grin, the blood in her veins singing at just the visage of her donning the crown, “But, what about you?”

“Firelord Ozai shall be no more.” The sages stepped up in sync, holding various garments, and began dressing her Father in them. “Instead I will be reborn, Supreme Ruler of a world of ashes. I will now be known as the Phoenix King!” He grinned, something Azula hadn’t seen him do since Zuko’s banishment. Behind him, a flag donning the sigil of a phoenix rose with grandeur.

Amongst the cries of celebration and roaring of fire around her, her heart beat in her chest strongly, and Azula told herself it was out of excitement.

That damn woman wouldn’t leave her alone.

Azula had noticed the stillness in the air for some days now; how the servants skittered about silently, how the guards gave only the stiffest of bows as she walked by. She could taste the acrid tang of fear in the air and finally know it was rightfully won by nothing but her own strength and prowess.

Then Ursa had returned.

Not the real deal, of course. The witch had probably died off years ago. But her spirit had begun flitting just at the edge of Azula’s vision. Taunting her, driving her temper shorter and shorter. She was absolutely over it by the third day, and it showed in the way she would pull the servant girls by the hair every time they messed something up, how they always messed something up. Why couldn’t anyone ever get anything done correctly around here?

Before, when she had to deal with imbeciles like this, at least she had Mai and Ty Lee to complain to. They understood her, they were her friends.

Father sent them away just before his departure.

Mai was put under house arrest for failing to keep her brother under lockdown, and Ty Lee was still pinned down with the task of tracking the Avatar. Azula understood, of course. They all had parts to play and punishments to bear. It didn’t stop her from scorching the messenger as soon as he relayed the news, but she still understood.

It was of no matter, really, and besides, she was much too busy preparing for her coronation to think about the vibrant echoing of her heels as she glided down the halls.

Azula had just banished the handmaiden that had dared try to assassinate her with a cherry-peach pit when Ursa had returned. She was standing in the distance, hands folded politely in front of her and a melancholic smile on her face. The sight made Azula snarl, the remaining girls tending her flinching at the noise.

“Enough! You’re all banished!” she snapped, and ran her tongue along her sharpened teeth as she watched the guards lead each one out of the room. When the last of them was gone, she finally yelled out in frustration and smashed the fruit bowl beside her to the floor, spewing flame all the while. Oh, how she wanted to rip someone’s throat out with her teeth.

She took a moment longer to stew in her own anger, then cleared her throat and fixed her hair, rising from the lounge chair. She went to her chambers, and did her nighttime routine methodically and practiced, the same way she did it every night.

She would banish everyone in the palace if she could, but not yet. Not quite yet.

Azula went to bed with her blood thrumming in anticipation for the crown, and when she tried to close her eyes and drift to slumber, all she could hear was the pounding of her heartbeat.

And so it continued.

By the time the wondrous day had arrived, she had dismissed all the servants that had stepped on her toes and faced her wrath. The room was silent except for the sound of a hairbrush gliding through hair, a haggard face watching the movement from the floor-length mirror in front of her.

The day was going to be perfect. That’s what she repeated in her mind again and again as she picked up a ribbon with two fingers and used her memory and guesswork to figure out how to tie a royal topknot. Usually a servant would be in charge of this, but apparently none of them were capable.

She could see it, clear as day now, how they all looked at her with disdain. Whispers about her brother grew like a cloud of moth-locusts, and she could already hear how they all would prefer a soft-heart like Zuko that they could manipulate and use for themselves instead of the strong and prideful ruler they were getting instead. The rat-vipers.

But it was fine, she didn’t need anyone. Her father entrusted the Fire Nation to her while he went to make the world a better place, and she would not let him down.

A sharp pain of her finger getting caught in the ribbon drew her out of her train of thought.

It was minor, small, something she would usually just scoff at. But now, after being needled by nobodies and watched by everyone, now it seemed even her hair wanted to mutiny.

Fine. Fine.

She shore off the offending locks with a manic grin, baring her fangs all the while.

“How disappointing. You always did have such lovely hair.” Ursa said sadly, suddenly appearing in the mirror.

Azula glared, dropping the scissors on the table. “What do you want?”

“To attend my daughter’s coronation, of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world”

“Do not,” Azula curled her lip and stretched out her fingers, “pretend to be proud. I know what you really think of me.” 

She turned away from the mirror, hating the words that spilled from her throat, “You think I’m a monster.”

“Azula, I think you’re confused. You’ve been using fear to control everyone, even your friends, all your life.”

“And? What choice do I have?! There’s no such thing as trust in this world, and you were the one that taught me that, Mother .” Azula spat, throwing an arm out, choppy bangs falling into her eyes and making them water even more. Then she hiccuped out a laugh, “Even you fear me.”

“No, sweet girl, I love you.” The apparition held a hand out, as if she wanted to tuck Azula’s hair back, like she had any right to after all the things she did (all the things she didn’t do).

Fingers hooked themselves over the discarded hairbrush, and Azula threw it with all her might at the mirror, watching it shatter, taking Ursa’s figure with it.

Now alone, she bit her lip, flinching back when she felt a pinprick of pain and a thin trail of blood gliding down her chin.

She took a moment to react, and fell to her knees laughing hysterically when she did, shoulders shaking and chest heaving as her cackles morphed quickly into caterwauls. Her lip felt the slightest bit numb.

Seemed they did have venom, after all.

“He’s what? ”

“Gone!” Sokka threw his hands up. Besides him, Katara was wide-eyed and staring at nothing to the side, lost in thought.

“How did you lose a whole Avatar?” Zuko shook his wet hair out of his eyes, the sweat making them sting. He had just got back from his warm up when the two siblings came running with the news.

“Well, aren’t you the expert in losing him?” Sokka pointed out, and that earned a growl.

“Come on, let’s round up the rest and check out the house.” Katara piped up, tugging on Sokka’s sleeve. The other two nodded in agreement and after gathering up Toph and Suki they split to cover more ground. Zuko held his head up and flicked his tongue out intermittently throughout the search, trying to catch Aang’s scent anywhere, but all he could taste was moldy wood and cobwebs.

“I found his staff!” Sokka’s cry drew the group to one of the upper decks, where a staff innocently leaned on the railing.

Zuko leaned closer to it, “The scent is old, he hasn’t been here for a while.”

“Let’s try the beach.” suggested Suki, and it only took a few minutes before they found a set of tracks that led straight to the ocean.

“Now what?” Toph crossed her arms.

“Do you think he got kidnapped?” Katara rubbed her hands together nervously.

“Nah, no sign of a struggle, see?” Sokka leaned closer to the footprints.

“He ran away then.”

“Appa wouldn’t be here, then.” Zuko pointed out.

“Got it!” Sokka sprang back up, “he’s done this before guys. Aang’s definitely on one of his Spirit World journeys.”

“Wouldn’t his body be here then?” 

“..oh, right.”

Suki patted his shoulder in consolation.

“He’s gotta be somewhere on the island, then.” Katara patted her fist into her other hand, “let’s all split and look around.”

“I call Zuko!” Toph beelined for the boy, grasping his arm tight and making heat rush to his face at the unexpected contact.

“Alright, Suki and I will check the town.”

“I’ll fly around on Appa.” Sokka ran towards the bison while Katara and Suki darted further inland, leaving the remainder of the group to themselves.

“..may I ask why?”

“Everyone got a life-changing field trip with you already, ok? Now it’s my turn!” Toph beamed up at him.

“I’ll..try not to disappoint.”

One disappointing field trip later, none of them had any luck finding the monk.

“No luck huh?” Sokka met them all at the entrance of the home, hopping down from Appa. They all shook their heads.

“Hey, have you guys noticed that Momo’s missing too?”

“What? Wai-oh no. No no no no nononononono.” Sokka had his head in his hands.

“What?”

“I knew this day would come.” the boy said in despair, then pointed an accusatory finger at the bison beside him, “Appa ate Momo!”

A beat.

“He absolutely did not.” Katara said flatly.

“That’s just what he wants us to think.” Sokka narrowed his eyes and then started climbing into the bison’s mouth.

What the-

“Zuko, do you have any ideas on what to do?” Katara cut off his thoughts.

“No, none.” He replied, then started feeling a little unnerved when everyone continued to stare at him. Even Toph, somehow.

“Why are you all looking at me?”

“I mean, you are the resident Avatar hunting expert.” Toph rolled her hand in the air.

“You weren’t even here when I did that stuff.”

“Yeah, well, everyone complained enough about it when we were in the Earth Kingdom for me to get the gist.”

Hm.

Then he remembered something. “Earth Kingdom?”

“Yeah..?”

It was a long-ass time ago, and he doubted she would be there, but it wasn’t like they had any other choice.

“I have an idea.”

June was exactly where he thought she would be, throwing drunks over her shoulder and pocketing fool’s coin all the while. It took two angry teens pestering her for her to agree to help, and she led the crew back outside to her shirshu. She whistled long and low when Zuko pulled his hood down and she could see his features in the lamplight of the bar.

“Heard the rumors here and there but didn’t think they’d be that close, little prince.” she teased, and Zuko felt his face heat.

“Alright, give me something with the Avatar’s scent.”

They handed over his staff, and watched as Nyla circled the clearing again and again before whining and covering her nose with wide paws, snuffling and reeking of unease.

“Well, that’s new.” June remarked off-handedly.

“What’s it mean? He’s not dead is he?”

“Nyla could find him if he was dead,” She went to soothe her ruffled mount, “what that meant was that your boy isn’t on this plane. He doesn’t even exist.”

“Now what the hell are we gonna do?” Sokka ruffled his head harshly, trying to think of an alternative to the plan they had been going on for the entire year.

“Well, it’s been fun, but I gotta jet. See ya.” June swung up on the shirshu and was about to kick her flanks.

“Wait!” Zuko blurted out, making her pause and the group turn to look at him.

“Yeah?”

“We can use something else.”

“I already told you, she can’t find your kid.” June sighed.

“Not for Aang, for someone else who could help us.”

“Who?”

Which led to Zuko unveiling a part of his travel pack he was incredibly embarrassed to have.

“You have his smelly sandal?!”

“I think it’s kinda sweet.” Toph snickered.

“A lot happened. I didn’t even know it was in my bag until we left the Earth Kingdom.” And he couldn’t find it in himself to get rid of it; rank as the smell was, it was the only thing he had that reminded him of kin.

Zuko held it out for Nyla, but the shirshu just hissed at him. She sounded like apprehension, and looked like she would rather be anywhere except near the prince. Zuko just shoved the shoe closer, and June brought the beast to heel.

“Do it.” he hissed out, and the shirshu puffed out her fur, trembling, then leaned out slowly and took a tentative sniff.

She whipped back to safety as soon as she picked up the scent, and the bounty hunters left the rest of the group in the dust as they raced towards where his uncle was.

“C’mon, we’re going to lose them.”

The chase took what felt like the entire night, and when the shirshu stopped, they were all exhausted and ready for the hunt to be over.

They were led to a crumbling stone wall and mountains of rubble in the middle of absolute nowhere.

“Here’s where the trail ends. Good luck.” was all June had given them before turning tail and bounding out of there.

Zuko felt his heart fall in his stomach as he took in his surroundings, feeling hapless after everything that had happened. 

“Come on, let’s make camp.” he suggested.

Then they got ambushed.

“What’s with all these old guys?” Toph asked as they stared down a group donned in blue and white robes. Zuko could barely make out their faces, but one of them cut a familiar figure, and the scent of burnt metal and oil helped him put a name to the face.

“Master Piandao?”

“My Prince.” the other replied, and the rest seemed to all recognize Sokka and Katara, one of them even boasting about how he was apparently engaged to their grandmother. The other, one who had the scent and scars of a firebender, was introduced to Zuko as Aang’s first firebending teacher.

“What’s going on? How do you all know each other?”

The one who was apparently King Bumi snorted in laughter, “All old people know each other.”

“We’re all part of a group that transcends the nations in order to uphold peace in the world.” Piandao explained patiently.

“A call came from one of us urgently requesting our presence.”

“Yes, Iroh of the Fire Nation.” The waterbender, Pakku, clarified, and the news sent a tingle of excitement shooting up Zuko’s spine.

“That’s the guy we’re looking for!” Toph exclaimed.

“Wait, there’s someone missing. Someone very important to the group and the grand scheme of things.” Bumi scanned them all and then their surroundings, and started advancing on Sokka, a serious glint in his eye.

“Where’s Momo?”

Zuko was scared.

He would honestly rather fight against a water wyrm, or even his own father, than walk through the thin flap of fabric that was separating himself from his Uncle.

“Hey, you okay?” Katara asked quietly, joining him as he knelt in front of the tent.

“No. My uncle hates me, I just know it.” He bit his lip, “All that he did for me, and in return I’ve been nothing but a disgrace.”

“Zuko, are you even listening to yourself?” Katara admonished, “You’re doing what he’s doing; fighting to save the world . I don’t think your Uncle could ever hate you.” She paused, “Is that the kind of guy you think your Uncle is?”

Zuko clenched the fabric of his pants tighter, the words stinging, and rose to his feet. He tried to ignore Katara’s encouraging stare as he made his way to the tent, and took a deep breath to ready himself before entering.

“Uncle-” he began softly, nervous, but the loud sound of snoring cut him off.

There he was, deep in slumber, looking just the same as he was when they had separated.

Zuko ached to rush over and see the older man opening his eyes, after the long weeks of nightmares where he never would, but he remained steadfast and took a seat in front of the bedroll. The man deserved rest, and Zuko needed to gather his thoughts.

The hours ticked by slowly, and yet it felt like he had only blinked once before he could feel the telltale rise of the sun. The sensation caused the slumbering man to stir, and he watched as his uncle rose into a stretch, smoke leaving his lips, and the frame freezing for just a moment when he realized he wasn’t alone.

“Uncle,” his voice cracked, and he cleared his throat before trying again, “I-I know you must have mixed feelings about seeing me again. I know I let you down.” He looked towards the ground, eyes feeling warm, “But I just want to tell you that I’m,” his breath hitched and he felt the first tears fall down his face, landing silently on his boots, “I’m sorry. For what I did, what I’ve become, how I’ve acted. I’m ashamed of what I did to you, how I left you alone. A-and I don’t know how I can ever make it up to you-” he was cut off when the man whipped around and swiftly grabbed him, tugging the boy close.

It took a moment for Zuko to process what had happened, but when he did it felt like something inside him fell away and he was grasping desperately onto his Uncle’s shoulders like he was a little kid again, tears streaming down his face as he nuzzled closer, taking in the scent of kin.

“Why aren’t you mad at me?” he mumbled into the fabric, voice creaking.

“I never was.” came Uncle’s reply, voice rumbling pleasantly. “I was afraid; afraid I would lose you, afraid you would always be lost.” 

“I was.” There was a purr rising from his throat as he started to calm down.

“But you found your way, and you did it all on your own.” They separated, and Uncle looked at him with warmth in his eyes, like he was looking at Lu Ten.

Zuko sniffed, running an arm along his cheek to wipe away the wetness.

“It wasn’t hard; you have a very strong scent.”

The man’s smile turned into a good-natured grin, and then he took the time to really look at his nephew.

“Ah, my boy, you’ve been through so much. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you.” He put a warm, weathered palm on Zuko’s scaled cheek, thumbing a stray tear away.

“It’s okay. But, I actually came here for a reason.” Zuko stood, holding a hand out to help his uncle up.

“Oh? Something to do with the Avatar, then?”

“Yeah.”

“No.”

“No? Why not?” Zuko asked, incredulous.

“Even if I could defeat my brother, that would be the wrong way to end this war. All the world would see is one brother killing the other for the throne. Nothing but senseless violence.” he lowered his bowl, “Only the Avatar can defeat the Firelord in order to restore harmony.”

“Then you’ll come back? Take your rightful place on the throne?”

“No, I won’t be doing that either.” The older man sighed, confusing Zuko.

“Then who?”

“Who else, dumdum?” Toph said beside him, and he looked at her incredulously until it hit him.

“Wh-I can’t be Firelord!”

“When this war ends, and the Fire Nation needs to repent for all it has done, the people will need a ruler with an unshakeable will and boundless honor. Someone like you, my boy.”

“But I-” Zuko fingered at his nails, felt his teeth with his tongue, “I don’t look anything like how a Firelord should.”

“It will be tough,” Uncle admitted, “But I believe in the strength in your heart and in the companions you have made.”

Then he sighed, fire peeking out of his lips, “You know, when I was a boy I thought it was my destiny to take Ba Sing Se. But now, I know that it is my destiny to take it back. ”

He laughed a bit, “Funny thing it is, fate. You never know where it leads you.”

“Any guesses at least on where it leads us?” Sokka piped up, breakfast already devoured and empty bowl sitting beside him in the grass.

“Do you have any?”

The Water Tribe boy thought a bit, then started, slowly, “I think what we should focus on is taking care of those airships. Whatever it is Aang is doing, we should do all we can to help him focus on his fight with Ozai.”

“Then we’ll be right there when he needs us.” Toph punched her fists together, grinning meanly.

“When you do get to the palace, my boy, you must be aware.” Uncle turned back towards Zuko, “Azula will be waiting.”

“Azula..” the last time he had seen her was when she was celebrating the thought of being an only child. “I’ll take care of her.”

“Not alone this time, I hope?”

“No, not this time. Katara?” The girl perked up at the sound of her name, “Mind giving me your assistance?”

“It would be my pleasure.” She said, determined, and they took the rest of the time to savor the timid peace they still had before it was time to dismantle the entire Fire Nation army.

When it was almost time to depart, Zuko caught Katara idly grooming Appa, a faraway look in her eye.

“Still worried about him?” he asked, joining her and running through his fingers through the thick fur. Katara glanced at him, then lowered the brush.

“Do you think he’s okay?”

“He’s tough. I know from experience.” Zuko let out a whistle of steam, “But do you think he’ll make it in time?”

Katara laughed, “He will, I know from experience.” she parroted back.

“It’s going to be tough, fighting the Fatherlord.”

“You mean the Firelord?”

“..yeah? That’s what I just said?”

Katara laughed again, harder, “Sounds like you’re even more nervous than I am.”

Zuko just huffed and climbed Appa’s shoulder to the saddle, checking to see if they were set for the day-long journey.

“I trust in Aang. I just don’t trust in his ability to not get in sticky situations.” Katara called after him.

“I’ll give you that; he’s a magnet for trouble.”

They were interrupted when the other half of the group came up to say their goodbyes.

“When I get back, we’re doing a proper field trip.” Toph punched him in the arm, then almost crushed his ribs when she gave him a quick but hard hug. He didn’t have time to react before she stepped back towards Suki, waiting for Sokka and Katara as they were clutching each other close.

“Be safe.” Sokka told her.

“You too.”

The atmosphere was solemn as they boarded Appa, watching the others help Toph into the saddle of an eel-hound. Right before they departed, Uncle came to see them off.

“What are you going to do if I’m going to become the Firelord?” Zuko couldn’t help but ask.

Uncle gave a bright grin in response, “After I reconquer Ba Sing Se, I'm going to reconquer my tea shop, and play Pai Sho every day!”

He turned a bit to address the rest of the team, “Destiny is on our side, my friends, I just know it.”

They all gave determined nods.

“Goodbye, General Iroh.” Katara called out.

“Goodbye, everyone.”

When they reached the plaza, Azula was a finger-width away from having the crown on her head.

“Of course it’s you.” she sneered at him, rising from her kneeling position. She looked small in the ceremonial garments, and haggard, like she hadn’t slept for days, choppy bangs fluttering in the wind.

“You’re not the one that’s going to be Firelord Azula,” Zuko leapt from Appa’s back and landed on the ground, Katara settling beside him, “I am.”

“You?” Azula’s eyes bulged, then she clutched her belly and howled with laughter, the scant amount of sages inching away from the princess. “You’re hilarious, Zuzu.”

“And you’re going down.” Katara snapped back, and all signs of entertainment left Azula’s face in an instant.

“Fine then, if that’s what you want.” She threw the ceremonial garb off her shoulders and straightened her back.

“Then we’ll do this, brother , the proper way; one-on-one with an Agni Kai!”

“Fine.”

“Zuko!” Katara whipped to look at him, “You know what she’s trying to do! She can’t take us both so she’s trying to separate us!”

And Zuko knew. He knew exactly the way Azula played, had seen how she fine-tuned it with his own eyes.

“I can take her this time. You can see it, can’t you?” Was all he gave as an answer, and ignored Katara’s further protests to step deeper in the plaza, watching his smirking sister descend the steps.

The two siblings got on one knee, facing away from each other, and at a sage’s shout turned and readied themselves.

“I’m sorry it has to end this way, brother.” Azula tilted her jaw, brows scrunched in mock grief before giving up the act and splaying her hands in the air.

“No, you’re not.” Zuko said in reply, and a snort was his warning as Azula shot blue flame at him, the height of the fire dwarfing Zuko’s field of vision. He threw his own in turn, and when they collided, the two blazes shot towards the heavens, fighting to overpower the other.

His palms were already burning from the intensity of the heat. The power of the comet made his blood sing and his teeth ache. The virility of his flame burned his good eye, streams of different colors braiding into his bending, burning hot enough to keep up with Azula’s blue.

‘ When did that happen?’ he thought idly to himself.

Each time they collided, it sounded like fireworks were exploding right in front of them. The fire slid around each other and formed a solid wall, pushing at the center point and making Zuko’s arms strain as they tried to keep the pressure on.

When it died down, Azula whipped around to see a pagoda on fire.

“You rat-mole!” she screeched, and launched herself at him, fire burning hot at her heel. She whipped it in an arc and crashed it down to the floor, and only snarled more when Zuko parted it. She threw herself forward, hurling flame after flame, and growing more and more frustrated when Zuko intercepted and dodged each one.

He had never seen her like this, so frazzled. When he threw a whip of his own he was surprised it caught her, making her stumble and fall to the stone floor.

Her bun came undone and her hair fell messily in her face, only showing glimpses of wild eyes and gnashing teeth.

Zuko crouched a bit lower, growling in his throat.

“No lightning today?”

Azula laughed, jerking her body like it wasn’t hers.

“Lightning? Oh, I’ll show you lightning .”

She twirled, gracefully summoning bolt after bolt of white plasma, scorching the air with the scent of summer storms.

Zuko readied himself for the attack, and almost missed the way his sister’s eyes darted from him to the girl behind him.

A cruel smirk painted her lips as she aimed the blast at Katara instead, and all Zuko could think at that moment was to get between the two as quickly as possible.

He threw himself in the air, and was struck. He could hear himself roar in pain, could feel his skin twitching, and focused only on keeping the current in his belly, away from his heart, trying to not black out.

“Zuko!” he heard Katara cry out, and a yelp as more lightning was shot past him. He tried to rise, vision blurry, when he saw the way his sister was hunting the Water Tribe girl. He gathered a hand under him and pushed up, managing to sit up only to lean over and vomit. The acid in his throat burned with the smoke, and his mind started to cloud as the pain made him delirious. All he could fathom was his friend, his kin , was about to be killed.

He spat on the floor and stumbled to his feet. He watched the other firebender steady a hand at the girl and sparks of electricity began to pop across her palms.

Zuko tried to take a step, fell to his hands, and continued from there, nails digging into the stone and fire pushing his strides as he felt a combination of the Comet and the dragon blood within him intertwine and hum. He felt like he could fly, like he hadn’t been hurt at all.

Zuko managed to get there in time to slam into Azula, messing up her aim and missing Katara by a hair. 

“Stay down, why don’t you!” she shrilly spat, and dug her own nails into his flesh in turn.

Zuko snapped his jaws, baring his fangs, and tore at the pauldrons still clasped on her shoulders.

Fire slipped from his mouth, falling like spit and catching on her clothes, and she rolled them around and off the balcony back into the plaza, pushing Zuko down so he took the brunt of the damage.

“I am sick of your meddling, you freak.” Azula wrapped her hands around Zuko’s throat, ignoring his scrabbling nails on her wrists, her hair curtaining the both of them so all he could see was her warped face.

Then she was yanked back as a whip of water lashed her away, freeing Zuko and letting him take in quick lungfuls.

He jerked up and caught her by the ankle as she lunged after Katara, nearly frothing at the mouth. She threw him up in the air with the momentum and they both landed on a canal grate, the rusted metal shuddering from the weight. Azula wrapped her legs around him, quick and ruthless, and in turn Zuko shook with all his might, slamming her into the floor again to throw her off.

She bit at his arm, slender fangs sunk deep, and his fingers started to burn, then turn numb.

Outraged, Zuko spat fire at her face, then when she jerked her head to the side to avoid the attack, followed the fire to tackle her back to the floor. 

His numb arm was almost useless, so he used the other to pin her to the ground, grip on her throat tight like how she did with him, hooking his claws into the grating to get a better grip.

There was mania in her eyes now, in how she was looking around wildly, thrashing, twisting her arms around and causing sparks to fly in the air.

Zuko ignored all of that, too distracted by the blood in his throat singing, the freckles of lightning in his belly tearing his flesh, the growl deep in his chest as he leaned down, steam spilling from his maw, fangs primed to pierce a soft throat-

Not seeing the fingers pointed at him until the first slip of lightning was released.

His eyes widened, and he didn’t have time to move before they were both encased in a block of ice.

Zuko watched as his sister looked around frantically, trying desperately to look for a way out. Next to them Katara stood, breathing heavily, a chain in her hands.

The girl reached into the ice as if it was snow and gently grasped the hand that was pointed right at Zuko’s head, then grabbed the other and wrapped them both in the chain, tying Azula to the grate below. 

His vision was darkening from lack of breath by the time Katara released the two, and when she did he threw himself away from Azula, coughing and sputtering. He tried to lean on the arm Azula bit and it buckled in answer, making him crash to the floor.

“Zuko, hey, stay with me.” He felt slaps against his cheeks and cracked his good eye open. Katara was leaning over him, hands glowing as she scanned over the damage the lightning had done.

“M’good.” he mumbled in reply, and then groaned when Katara flicked his forehead.

“Don’t ever do that again! I swear, you boys will be the death of me.” Katara muttered, turning her attention towards the bite on his hand.

Distantly, he heard sobbing, and he jerked upright and whipped around when he made the connection.

There was Azula, chained to the floor, throwing herself around and wailing, acting like her age for once. The sight made his heart squeeze, and he rose to his feet with Katara’s help.

“Just kill me, damn you! I don’t deserve this, I don’t deserve to be treated like this!” Azula shouted at them, shoulders heaving and thin frame shivering from her wet clothes.

The two watched her, until Zuko felt strong enough to stand on his own.

“Zuko?” Katara asked when he pulled away from her, and he just glanced at her for a moment before turning back to Azula.

She was spewing flame from her mouth, burning the grate, burning herself, without a care in the world. She snarled and bared her fangs at Zuko when he got closer, and licked her teeth.

Zuko took note of all of it, of how she looked just like how he felt when all this began.

“Come on then, finish the job! Or are you too scared Father will have your head? Maybe he’ll be lenient and send you to Mother, that wench. Too good for you in my opinion, I think you should just drop de-”

“Lala.” Zuko said simply, and knelt in front of her, shocking her into silence.

Azula laughed, nervous, “Don’t tell me you’ve lost it again.” Behind her, Zuko could hear the screeching of metal on slate.

When he smelt the acrid tang of blood, he threw his arms around her.

Azula tensed, ready for the final blow, but all Zuko did was tuck her head under chin and begin to purr.

“Get off me, what the hell are you doing?!” she spat, incredulous, and Zuko held her tighter as she squirmed, spitting fire, breathing getting quicker and quicker until finally the fight drained from her and she slumped forward.

“You are the worst person ever.” Zuko said simply, “but you’re my little sister.”

“You-” Azula began, then she shuddered, and a warm wetness began dotting his skin.

“It’ll be fine. I’ll take care of it.” Zuko ran a hand through her tangled hair, dragging claws lightly on her scalp, purring harder when in response he got a low keen from the girl and wet rasps.

He stared at the wall, thoughts in a fog of fatigue. His eyes burned. His palms felt raw.

His teeth ached.

It got worse before it got better.

There were revolts, and riots, and politicians who had grandkids in the grave thanks to what the Fire Nation had done. Firelord Zuko was thrown into a kind of diplomacy the like the royal family had not seen in 100 years, where instead of threats of violence they had to speak on the authority of peace. Without the Avatar being the absolute paragon of world peace by his side, and his own contributions to the war, many thought he would’ve offed himself from the hopelessness of the situation alone.

Jee wasn’t one of them, and gave the stink-eye to anyone that voiced their doubts.

Now, though, after a grueling two years, it was finally getting better. After being thoroughly scrubbed, those in the army that were drafted got a beautiful pension and were sent home with a goodbye kiss and a goodie bag. Jee himself could finally retire, and he did it as soon as he possibly could, moving far from the mainland in hopes that he would never have to deal with crazies ever again.

“Captain, help! Help me!”

He could dream.

Jee ignored the cries from Kai and sipped on his tea instead. Besides him, Hakado was tinkering with something metal and probably combustible.

“Come on now, boy, no need for that!” Rai grasped the kid by the scruff of his shirt and threw him in a chair, a lecherous grin on her lips, “You said dare, so now you gotta do it!”

“Hell yeah you do!” a tiny earthbender hollered from a different table, unashamed in her eavesdropping.

“Fine, fine!” The boy was near tears, but he set his jaw determinedly, and shot a hand in the air.

“Service, please!”

“Coming!”

A boy, almost a man now, came out from the back, an apron tied around his waist and a towel wiping his hands. A prong of horns peeked out from his head, starting to spread like antlers since the last time Jee had seen them. Half his face was covered in glittering scales, like a large birthmark, and his eyes gleamed a pale, piercing gold only a few possessed.

He blinked when he saw who asked for the request, and walked over to the table.

“What is it, Kai?” Zuko asked, raising a brow and tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. It was long enough that he would need to start tying it back again.

Kai stayed silent, face getting redder and redder, and Himiko slapped him on the back.

“Go on then!”

“M-my lord!” Kai sat straight up, eyes suddenly filled with determination.

“Yes?”

“If I may! I would like to order a-” and he scrunched his eyes shut at this, “a-a SMILE PLEASE.”

..

What the fuck.

“What the fuck.” Jee and Zuko said simultaneously. Amongst the racket, Rai and the Himiko were absolutely roaring with laughter.

“Sorry! Sorry, my Prince-er, I mean my Firelord. Your Lordliness?” Kai immediately bowed his head in shame, and if he was any redder steam would be pouring off him. 

Like it was pouring off of Zuko.

“Uhm.” he said, then shook his head and furrowed his brow.

“Fine.”

The chatter immediately cut off.

“...wait, really?”

“Yes? You want one, right?” Zuko asked, confused now. 

“YES.” Now the entire crew was scrambling to be in front of the former prince, and if Jee was asked about it, he would claim morbid curiosity until he died.

“Spirits, you guys are weird.” Zuko grumbled, then with a face looking like he would rather be doing literally anything else, he gave them a shaky smile.

It was awkward, and it looked painful, and Jee almost had to look away after a few moments.

Because it was-

“It’s so cute!” Kai tackled his literal actual Firelord in a hug, settling his head between horns and using his freakish height to stuff Zuko into his breast.

Again, Jee would deny anything until he died.

“I would also like to order a smile, please!” Himiko raised her hand, eyes sparkling, and Zuko scowled and pushed his clingy subordinate off.

“No.”

“What!” The woman threw herself back in her chair like she wasn’t 34 summers old. 

“Only one is free. The rest you have to pay.”

“How much?” And she was back up again.

“...”

“How much?”

“...50 silver pieces.”

“Right! Everyone add to the pile!” Himiko upended her very flat purse, and a few coppers coughed themselves out.

“Yes ma’am!” Kai added 5 silvers, and Rai slammed down a tidy 15. Hakado silently added another 10, and then it was silent.

They all turned to Jee.

Various forms of big, wet eyes pleaded at him, while a single cold gaze dared him to try.

He weighed his odds on who would be more annoying and dropped a coinstring of 20 silver pieces on the table.

He’d take the dragon over his crew any day.