Chapter Text
Zuko had been told his entire life that the other nations were savages. That they were dirty and uncultured, without any of the moral standards that the Fire Nation citizens held themselves to. That they needed help to be shown how to live properly.
The moment he saw Yue, he knew what she was. She had dark skin and bulky clothes and the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. No one in the capital (or even the colonies) looked like her. Yet, she matched the description of a Water Tribe citizen completely.
(Well, aside from the white hair. What was up with that, anyway? Zuko was pretty sure the only people that had white hair like that were old, like his grandfather, and this girl looked like she couldn’t be any older than him.)
But Yue didn’t seem inferior. She seemed...well, normal. Aside from her outlandish appearance, and her strange accent, she acted like any other shy nobleman’s daughter he’d ever met. Reserved, polite, with the posture and manners of a girl who had been schooled from a young age in how to conduct herself.
(She reminded him a bit of Mai, when he’d first met her. Back then, Mai had been much more hesitant to talk back to him, much less spar against him and win. It hadn’t been “ladylike,” apparently.)
When she asked him who he was, he was too surprised to give her an answer right away. He wasn’t used to having to introduce himself to people. As a member of the royal family, extended as it was, he was used to people knowing his face and the name and title attached to it.
After a moment of contemplation, he told her, very quietly, that his name was Zuko.
Then she’d smiled awkwardly at him and held out a hand for him to take. “Mine is Yue. Do you know how we’re here together?”
And Zuko felt himself melt into the present, adapting to the unusual circumstances so he could shake her hand without shaking.
She gave him a quizzical look, and he wondered if she’d wanted him to kiss it instead. Some noblewomen only accepted greetings like that, although his father’s opinion of them for it was low. Something about having to bow to a woman made Zuko’s father chafe.
Then he realized she was simply studying him, her head tilted to the side in curiosity as she took in his foreign clothes and coloring. It was at that moment that he realized this was the first time she’d probably ever seen someone like him, too.
He flushed, straightening up a bit. “Ah, no. I don’t. I was just having a weirdly long dream and well...then you came out of nowhere.”
She hummed thoughtfully, closing her eyes briefly to think. “The same happened to me. I wonder why now, and I wonder how, and I wonder especially...why with you?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted, having been musing the same thing himself. “I guess I’ll have to look it up later in my library—see if I can find anything.”
Her eyes widened. “You have a library?” She rocked back and forth on her feet, hands clasped together in excitement. “Most families don’t get one all to themselves. They’re too expensive.”
“I’m a prince of the Fire Nation.” Zuko declared proudly. “Of course I have a library.”
“Oh wow.” Yue whispered in awe, making him preen. “I’ve never met someone from the Fire Nation before. I haven’t even left home. What’s it like, where you live?”
“Hot.” He said, for some reason finding himself at a loss for words. “I mean, it’s really hot. We live on volcanic islands, and a lot of our food comes from fish and birds.”
She looked wistful; distant, as if she was looking through him instead of at him. “I wish I could go there. To see it for myself.”
“Why can’t you?” He asked, settling himself back down on the ground. The snow-covered ground was cold, but despite his clothing being built for warmer temperatures, he felt fine. (Just another strange facet of the dream they were sharing.)
“I can’t leave,” she said sadly, as she seated herself on the ground across from him. “Because...I’m the princess of the Northern Water Tribe. I’m too important. And besides,” she continued, missing the look of shock that had taken over her companion’s face, “no one has really left my tribe since the war began, anyway.”
“Well,” he said, sounding strained. “Yes...I imagine that would make things a bit harder, wouldn’t it?”