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Chapter Text

According to legend, long before our time there were two dragons. A red dragon, that embodied chaos, and a black dragon, that embodied the essence of order. The two dragons were originally at odds with each other, each attempting to create their own societies. The Dragon of Chaos in the North, and the Dragon of Order in the South. In the North, the Red Dragon created society after society, but each time, the inhabitants destroyed each other, as they lacked restraint. In the South, the Black dragon too was failing. Where the inhabitants of the North lacked restraint, the inhabitants of the South lacked the passion and ambition nessecary to flourish.

Eventually, the Black dragon saw the need for balance and attempted to reconcile with the Red dragon, but the red dragon was blinded by the chaos in its own mind, and attacked the black dragon, convinced she was attempting to trick and destory him. When the Red Dragon attacked, the Black Dragon managed to use his own chi against him. You see, the Black Dragon had learned to bend the positive jing energy flowing in and around the Red Dragon. The patient Black Dragon waited until the Red Dragon's focus wavered for just a moment, and merged her own chi with his. In that moment, balance was brought between the two forces, bringing about what we now know as fire bending.

It is for this reason that almost every fire bender is born with these two dragons inside of them. The key to become a true fire bending master is to learn to balance the two forces, chaos and order, inside of yourself.

"Almost?"

It is said that every 100 years, the Red and Black dragon return to each other, in the mortal realm, taking the form of two seperate humans. When this happens, it is imperative that the two find each other, so that the Black dragon may balance the chaotic ambition of the Red dragon, allowing for a new era of peace and prosperity for the Fire Nation.

Chapter Text

"You seem quiet today Zuzu," Ursa remarked as her son poked forlornly at his dinner.
"Is everything alright?"

Zuko glanced sadly at his mother from his spot next to her at the long table in the dimly lit dining hall. He opened his mouth to speak but was promptly cut off by his sister:

"He's just upset because his girlfriend wasn't at school this week!" Azula sneered, proudly crossing her arms.

Zuko felt a pang in his stomach as his face flushed, "Shut up! She's not my girlfriend!" He snapped, turning his nose up at his sister.

"Only because you're too much of a big baby to admit you have a crush on her!" Azula taunted, leaning across the table towards him.

"That's enough you two," Ursa calmly intervened. "Your friend Umara sounds like a very nice girl, I'm sure she'll be back to school soon."

Zuko relaxed at the sight of his mother's reassuring smile, but his peace was promptly interrupted by another of his sister's taunts.

"I bet the army came and took her to jail with all the other freaks." Azula snapped viciously.

Just then, Zuko felt a strange feeling come over him. It was as if he were angry, but different. Worse. Driven.

"Shut up, Azula!" He bellowed as he violently chopped a wide stream of fire across the table toward his sister. Azula dove under the table, just barely managing to avoid getting burned.

"Zuko!" Ursa called after him as he stormed away, affrighted by her son's uncharacteristic outburst.

"Leave me alone!" He screeched, slamming the door on the smouldering aftermath behind him.

---
Shortly after his outburst in the dining hall, Zuko sat sulking in his room, dreadfully awaiting the monumental punishment that surely awaited him. He sat on his bed, hugging his knees to his chest. As much as his younger sister picked on him, he'd never wanted to hurt her before, but something just snapped. It wasn't just that one time, either. The whole week had been weird. Umara was his only friend, and it was hard not having her around. She was different than everyone else: she never got angry or said cruel things. If he was being honest, she never really did much of anything. She always just seemed to be observing everything. Zuko sighed and splayed out on his back. That was probably why he liked her so much, Umara was always calm, even if he wasn't.

What was even worse, Azula was right. He was too scared to show that he liked her, and if that wasn't bad enough, she put the thought in his head that Umara may not come back. It hurt when she said that, because she may not have been wrong. The way his father had explained it was that Umara's family was allowed to live in the Republic City as a favor, though Zuko wasn't quite sure what that implied. Umara would never explain it to him either, she always just said there were some things she couldn't tell him and left it at that.

"Zuko," his mother's voice called from the doorway. "What's gotten into you?" She asked as she gingerly set herself down next to him on his bed. Zuko could only whimper as he curled himself into a ball. She put her hand on his shoulder gently, "I know you're worried about your friend, but you must learn how to control your temper! You could have burned your sister!" She scolded softly.

"I didn't mean to," Zuko mumbled. "I just don't understand why Azula has to be so mean." His mother squeezed his arm and gently pulled him so he was sitting next to her, "Zuko, look at me," She began as he reluctantly raised his eyes up from the floor. "Azula is younger than you, you have to learn to be patient with her."

"Why doesn't she have to learn to be more nice?" He huffed.

Ursa smiled, "She will, but she's still a little girl. You're almost twelve! You won't be able to have outbursts like that when you get invited to war meetings!" Zuko's eyes widened, "really? I get to go to war meetings?"

"In a few years you will, but only if you learn to behave now!" She urged.

Zuko Sat up straight and nodded confidently, "I will, I promise."

---

The next day proved to be yet another disappointment. It was already half way through the day and there was still no sign of his friend.

Zuko plopped down forlornly near the back wall of the school's court yard. He never had any luck when he tried to interact with the other children, and thought it would be best to keep his distance, lest he lose his temper again.

"Ouch!" He grimaced and grabbed the back of his head, swiftly standing up to see who'd hit him. "Who threw that?" He cried, only to be met by the bewildered stares of his classmates gathered to his front on the opposite end of the court yard.

"Shut up, dummy!" A soft, familiar voice urged from the wall behind him.

"Mari? Where have you been?" He demanded, a bit too loudly.

Another rock came sailing through the wall's round skylight, this time striking him directly in the forehead. "Stop doing that!" He screeched and stomped his foot, affording more stares from his distant classmates.

"What part of 'shut up' don't you understand? You're gonna get me in trouble," Umara's voice was still a whisper, but more urgent this time. "Now sit back down and stop being so obvious!"

Zuko took a deep breath and returned to his previous position, sitting with his back to the wall. "I'm sorry," he said quietly to the ground in front of him. "Why haven't you been in school? I was wo--" he paused abruptly to collect himself. "It's boring here without you!" He found himself smiling a bit as he said that, though he wasn't sure why.

"Meet me back here in the woods after school. I'll explain then, and don't tell anyone!"

Zuko raised his eyebrows, "Why would I tell anyone?"

Umara was quiet for a moment, though it was as if he had heard her roll her eyes. "Stop asking questions! I said I'll explain later!"

"Zuko!" A sharp voice cut through their conversation. "Get back inside! Break is over!" Zuko swallowed nervously, springing to his feet. "Yes ma'am!" He called as he jogged back into the school.

--
Zuko was relieved when the school day was finally over. He may as well have jumped over the wall when Umara had come to find him earlier that day, it's not like he had been able focus on anything else after that. He waited until his classmates were out of sight before creeping his way into the woods.

"Mari!" He rasped as he clumsily tripped his way through a mess of tree branches and brush. "Mari it's me! Where are you?"

"If that name catches on you're gonna be in big trouble" a small voice came from somewhere in the mess of branches around him, as another pebble struck him between his shoulder blades.

"Why do you keep doing that?!" He yelped as he turned toward the direction the rock had come from. "I'm sorry," Umara emerged from the brush chuckling, "You just get so twitchy, I couldn't resist." She giggled, her big, black eyes seemed to smile with her, assuaging his contempt, as always.

I hate it when she does that.

Zuko flailed the rest of the way through the brush, angrily shoving a branch out of the way, only for it to snap back and hit him in the face. Umara sighed, "just...come on" She impatiently grabbed Zuko's hand and dragged him the rest of the way to a clearing.

She turned to face him, her hand still grasping his for just long enough to bring all the blood rushing to his face. Umara glanced up at him briefly before shifting her eyes toward the ground. Her normally meticulously combed hair now falling listlessly over her eyes.

He awkwardly let go of her hand, flustered. "What's the matter, Mari, why do you look so sad?"

Her eyes shifted back to his briefly and she pursed her lips, "I don't know if I should come to school anymore..." She whimpered. Zuko reached toward her hesitantly for a moment before stiffly returning his hand to his side. He stood there stupidly, watching Umara as she attempted to collect herself, tilting her head back and brushing her long black hair out of her face. She took a sharp, deep breath:

"Something really weird happened, and I'm afraid what will happen if someone finds out." She stammered as she put her head back down and wiped tears from her eyes.

"Did Azula do something to you?" Zuko blurted uncomfortably.

Umara grunted and flopped down into the grass. "She's nine, Zuko," She sighed, sounding almost disappointed. "It's hard to explain, make some fire. I'll show you."

Zuko gingerly put his hand out, "I don't know Mari, this seems kind of dangerous. What if I burn you?" He shook his head in protest, abruptly closing his fist. "I almost burned Azula last night, I got really mad and--"

Umara dropped flat onto her back and groaned, "I might have to disappear forever and all you can talk about is your stupid, mean, sister!" She stared blankly at the treetops for a moment before abruptly sitting up.

"That's it!" She cried triumphantly, grabbing Zuko's arms and yanking him to sit on the ground with her.

"What are you doing?" He yelped abashedly.

She scooted closer to him so that their knees were touching, grasping his right hand between both of hers. "You don't have to make fire, just think about something that makes you feel all emotional and...attack-ey or whatever so your hand gets hot. If I feel like you're gonna burn me, I'll just let go." She chirped, her eyes seeming a bit brighter than before.

"Fine..." Zuko grumbled, closing his eyes to take a deep breath. He tried to focus but something felt off. "Close your eyes too! It's weird with you watching me!" He demanded. Umara smiled at him, "Fine, but once you're all... 'fire-ey' you have to open your eyes or you'll miss it." She cautioned him as she closed her eyes.

Zuko took a few deep breaths but couldn't manage to muster the anger he had felt the night before. If anything, his fight with Azula certainly wasn't what was making him feel 'fire-ey' at the moment. He squinted one eye open and peered at his friend. He thought about how annoying it was that she always got her way because of her stupid, big eyes. How she was always so calm, and how stupid he felt when he got angry in front of her, how she said she was going to 'disappear forever', how badly he had wanted to hug her when she was crying...

Stupid, Coward, Loser...

It was working. He opened his eyes when he felt Umara squeeze his hand. She squinched her eyes shut tighter and then, just for an instant, there were two of her. It was so quick that Zuko didn't have a chance to react before she exhaled sharply and abruptly let go of his hand.

"Did it work?" She asked, wincing and fanning her hands.

"What was that?" He asked wide eyed.

Umara's expression turned grave once more, "I'm not sure, but I think it might put me in danger."

Zuko shrugged, "I don't think so, why would it?"

She averted her eyes and folded her arms against her chest defensively, "it's one of those things I'm not allowed to tell you about, but I'm really, really scared." She said softly, shaking her head.

"Wouldn't it be more suspicious if you just stopped going to school all of a sudden?" He countered, a bit selfishly.

Umara tilted her head and thought for a moment, "I guess so..." She mumbled.

"And plus, you're my friend! That has to count for something, right?" Zuko smiled proudly.

She squinted at him for a second,

"Fine...but if I mysteriously disappear it's on you," She shrugged.

There was a silence after that, her eyes started to dart around nervously. "It's getting late," she cautioned, as a firefly buzzed past her head. "You should go home before the army comes looking for you or something."

"The guards and the army aren't the same thing," he replied stubbornly. "But I guess you're right. You promise you'll be at school tomorrow?" He did his best to mimmick the look Umara got on her face everytime she smiled her way out of trouble. She smiled at him, her face flushing just a little bit. Zuko felt his stomach leap into his throat. She was definitely better at that than he was.

"I promise." She said reluctantly, reaching out her hand to help him to his feet. The two just stared at each other for a moment.

"I'm gonna go, it's getting dark." Umara blurted, abruptly turning and starting home.

Zuko just stood there, paused by his own fluster.

"Hey Mari," He gulped and called after her.

She stopped and looked at him, a bit startled.

He tried to speak, but panicked as soon as he tried to.

"Uhh...Your eyes are...pretty, I guess." He trailed off.

Umara blinked at him blankly, "Okay!" She squeaked awkwardly, before briskly resuming her walk home.

Chapter Text

Umara gulped as she approached the enormous gate at the center of the palace walls. This was, unequivocally the most stupid thing she had ever done. Shortly after Zuko had made her promise to keep coming to school, he himself had "disappeared". At first, Umara had assumed that it had something to do with the passing of his grandfather, Fire Lord Azulon, but it had been over a week since then, and something just didn't feel right. She took a deep breath and continued hesitantly up the path leading toward the gate. She largely didn't trust the Fire Lord or the military. Umara paused when she finally reached the end of the path, her heart pounding in her ears. Act natural! 

"State your buisness!" An angry, pointily clad man shouted as he brandished his spear in her direction. 

She closed her eyes and took a breath, "I'm here-" her voice cracked. "I'm here to express my condolences to Prince Zuko over the passing of Fire Lord Azulon."  She called, trying her best to keep her voice from shaking as much as she was.

The guard chuckled at her expense, "I'll be sure to pass the message along." He sneered. She thought for a moment.

"I'm also supposed to catch him up on what we learned in school this week."  She blurted. The long, dark shadows cast by the torches surrounding the gate made everything far more intimidating than it needed to be, drawing quite a bit of regret that she had decided to make this trip at night. 

"Go home, little girl," the guard demanded, thrusting his spear at Umara. "I doubt the Prince has time for your games." 

She hung her head hoping a retort clever enough to convince them to let her in would come to her, but she had no such luck. 

"I do not think Fire Lord Ozai would be very pleased to hear that you were harassing his son's tutor." A calm but stern voice called from behind her. Umara whirled around, her eyes falling on a face she knew very well from pictures. It was the Dragon of the West himself, General Iroh. Her schooling in Hira'a had mentioned him, and he'd been a subject of her nightmares ever since. She watched, frozen as he had a brief argument with the guard, until the gates finally opened. The General smiled at her kindly and inclined his head, "after you."

.  .  .

"So," Iroh smiled warmly, trying his best to reassure the terrified little girl. "I assume you are a friend of my nephew's." 

She seemed surprised when he said that, though she only blinked at him in response. 

"I was surprised to see a Natoyi so close to the palace, but you don't look much like an assassin to me." He joked lightheartedly, realizing too late that he had put his foot in his mouth. The girl's eyes widened, she attempted to say something, but only managed a small squeak. 

He pointed to the band holding his own hair up, "The emblem on your hair ornament."  

She gasped and grabbed the base of her long ponytail in a shocked attempt to hide the symbol. Iroh felt a twinge of guilt in his abdomen, "Do you know what the dragons stand for?" He asked, trying his best to assuage her discomfort. There was a mysterious intensity to the child's aura. As terrified as she must have been at Iroh's recognition of the ancient symbol, her gaze hadn't wavered once. She stared at him with an unusual potentcy that seemed almost instinctual. 

"It's our story," The girl abruptly found her voice and snapped at him,  "I know what the symbol stands for." She seemed to flicker out of focus when she spoke, though Iroh couldn't be sure that it wasn't just a trick of the light. 

He paused as they reached the center of the Palace's expansive courtyard. "Why don't you wait here, I will go find Zuko for you." He gently motioned to a stone bench under the tree next to them. "Though I should warn you, he hasn't left his room much since his mother's disappearance." He said, raising an eyebrow in an attempt to illicit a reaction from the girl. Her eyes flashed with some surprise, however the brunt of her intense focus remained on Iroh. 

Eyes like a dragon.

.  .  .

Iroh was unsurprised to find his nephew in the exact same spot on his bed where he had left him earlier that day. He rapped on the door gently before easing his way into the room. Zuko sat up when he spotted him. "Did you find my mom?" He asked expectantly, popping up on his bed. 

"No, I'm afraid not." Iroh frowned as he watched Zuko's face fall in disappointment once again. He knew very well that Ursa wasn't going to be found, but he couldn't bring himself to crush his nephew's hope. 

"I understand that the past week has been very hard for you," he began, placing a hand on Zuko's shoulder only for it to be sharply shaken off. "But it is important to remember that sometimes things happen, seemingly with no rhyme or reason, and it can make it feel as if you are drowning. When the current of life begins to pull you in an unexpected direction, it is best that you don't fight it: you'll only exhaust yourself trying to out swim the inevitable," Iroh smiled gently knowingly. "Besides, you never know where the current might take you."

Zuko whimpered solemnly, letting himself collapse back onto his bed. Iroh thought for a moment, 

"While we are on the topic of the unexpected," he began nonchalantly, "there is a very pretty girl that came here looking for you. She seemed quite worried about you." 

Zuko's eyes lit up a bit, "What? Mari was here? Why didn't you tell me?!" He demanded. 

Iroh smirked, "She's here now, in the garden. Since you've been spending so much time in your room lately, I told her you may not want to see her." He teased, his eyes pointedly scanning his nephews charred bedroom. 

"Why would you say that, Uncle?" Zuko sounded horrified as he leaped off his bed.

"I suppose I was mistaken." Iroh shrugged innocently, chuckling as he watched his nephew clumsily speed out of the room.

.  .  .

Umara's eyes shifted nervously around the courtyard. 

I'm so glad I decided to come to the Palace, after dark, alone, and unannounced. What could possibly go wrong? 

Her eyes finally settled on a pond near the center of the courtyard. After another suspicious scan of her surroundings, she crept over to the edge of the pond, settling into the most inconspicuous position possible. Umara sighed at her reflection in the water, prodding defeatedly at the emblem on her hair ribbon. It was disturbing to her that someone Fire Nation military was able to identify the symbol as Natoyi. As far as the history books in the Capital said, the Natoyi people had died out hundreds of years ago when Fire Lord Zoryu had attacked and disbanded the last of the independant clans. A small group had managed to live on in Hira'a, though she wasn't sure that was even true anymore. 

Nearly a year ago to the day, the army had come to Hira'a, shouting something about an assassination attempt. All of the Natoyi people in the village were ordered out into the street: that was when she was ripped away from her family by one of the soldiers, who, she recalled, had bore a strange resemblance to a badger frog. He had the same dead eyes, at least. The man told her she was very lucky, and then before she knew it, she had arrived in the Capital City and was given to a couple in the Lower District. They weren't particularly friendly or kind, but they let her go to school, so there was that, at least. 

Umara hadn't realized who Zuko was when she befriended him, and by the time she did, she was already too invested in the friendship to hate him. If General Iroh had been telling the truth, and Zuko's mother really had disappeared, that could mean she herself was in a precarious situation. She knew that Ursa had grown up in Hira'a, and always had a suspicion she may have been part of the reason that they spared her that day. 

Umara was startled out of her reverie by a familiar voice. 

"Mari!" Zuko cried. 

Something sounded very off about his voice, frantic even. She barely had time to stand up before he roughly threw his arms around her, effectively pinning her arms at her sides. Something was definitely off. 

"Yeah," She shifted uncomfortably, "I was worried about- What's wrong?!" She gasped out as she realized her usually inhibited friend was sobbing, albeit quietly.

"I'm so glad your here." He whimpered into her shoulder.

Umara shifted her body again to see if she could free her arms. She couldn't.

"Zuko, what happened?" She asked again, beginning to panic.

He tried to answer her, but couldn't manage it. "Okay." She mumbled, twisting her body a bit more deliberately this time. 

"Sorry..." Zuko sniffed as he gingerly returned his arms to his sides.

It was jarring to see him this way. She'd seen him angry, or frustrated many times, but she'd never seen him this sad and upset before. To make it worse, she was too flustered to even react properly.

Umara took a breath to collect herself. "Zuko," She started gently, reaching out to wipe a tear from his cheek. "Tell me what happened, please. I'm worried about you." 

She moved to return to her previous sitting position, gently tugging on Zuko's arm so he'd follow suit. He gingerly lowered himself into the ground and put his head in his hands. 

"My mother's gone." He croaked, causing Umara to unintentionally take in a sharp breath. "She just disappeared and I think it's my fault." He continued, pressing his palm into his forehead. 

"Shh, no," She said softly as she reached over uncertainly and took his hand, gently lacing her fingers with his. "It's not your fault." 

"How do you know?" Zuko snapped, attempting to yank his hand away. Umara loosened her hand, but he didn't try to pull away again.

Angry is good, that means we're getting somewhere.

She scooted around so that she was sitting in front of him, letting her hand move with her so that she was grasping his fingers.

"Because you're eleven, Zuko," She urged, craning her neck down so she could look into his eyes. "Whatever happened, it's not your fault."

He sniveled again, wiping a tear with his free hand. "I'm almost twelve..." He protested weakly. 

Umara didn't respond, she just raised her eyebrows disapprovingly as she continued to look into his eyes. 

Zuko averted his eyes, smiling a bit in spite of himself. "I hate it when you do that." He mumbled half-heartedly. She thought about prodding him about what that meant, but decided to let it go. 

He reached behind her and gently swatted at the hair dangling between her shoulder blades, "you put your hair up." He remarked flatly, his eyes still angled toward the ground. 

Umara shrugged, a bit flustered. "Yeah, I was trying to look official. It didn't work though."

"It looks pretty," Zuko mumbled."You're a lot better at that than I am," He motioned to his own, poorly constructed hair bun. "My mom usually did my hair for me..." He trailed off. 

She bit the inside of her lip as a pang of sadness hit her in the chest. "It looks good!" She lied. 

"You don't have to say that." Zuko frowned. "I know it looks stupid."

 Umara thought for a moment, abruptly standing and resituating herself so she was kneeling behind him. She gathered his hair in one hand and began to unwrap the band holding it together.

He shifted uncomfortably." what are you doing?" he complained." 

"Hold this." she reached around and pointedly dangled the band In front of his face, ignoring his protests.

"Mari stop, this is embarrassing!" He whined insincerely, relaxing a bit.

"Why is it embarrassing--Give." Umara replied flatly, reaching around for him to hand her the band. She grunted as she struggled to flip his hair into the traditional looking bun. "There we go, I couldn't get it into the bun thing, but go look." She chirped triumphantly, motioning to the pond. 

She watched curiously as Zuko regarded his reflection for a moment longer than normal. 

"Is everything-" Umara was promptly cut off by another of his unexpected hugs, which this time effectively became a tackle. 

"Ouch!" She giggled as she abruptly hit the ground, Zuko following and landing on top of her. 

"Sorry..." He said staring at her dreamily for a moment, until his eyes nearly popped out of his head. "UHH, sorry!" He just about screamed as he rolled on to his back, covering his face. "Thanks for fixing my hair..." He mumbled through his hands.

Umara thought for a moment and smirked to herself, promptly turning her head to look at her friend, 

"So why does your face get all red whenever you look at me?" She teased, hoping to fluster him into forgetting his sadness for a while. 

"Wha- No it doesn't!" Zuko pouted and turned onto his side to look away from her. 

She grabbed to his shoulder and rolled him back to his previous position. His eyes shifted in her direction before promptly fixing on the sky above him. 

"It does not." he mumbled quietly. 

She reached over and jostled his shoulder playfully, "I didnt say it was a bad thing." she said carefully, her eyes repeating the same movement that Zuko's had a moment ago. 

They lay there In silence, each occasionally stealing a glance at the other. Zuko scooted himself closer to her, gingerly grasping her hand and turning his attention from the sky back to Umara. 

"I'm really happy you're here." he smiled sheepishly. 

She tilted her head to the side so that it was resting against his own. "I'm really sorry about your mom" she said softly and squeezed his hand.

"Me too," he replied sadly. "I'm sorry I knocked you over. I was just excited that I looked normal again."

Umara shrugged, "Yeah... I wish I could have gotten it to flip the right way though."

"No, I like it. We match now," Zuko smiled, prodding at her own ponytail. He paused for a moment as his face fell. "Can you promise me something?" He asked, eyes sullen. 

Umara hesitated for a moment as a wave of uncertainty rushed over her. "I can try," She replied reluctantly. She was not particularly confident in promises anymore.

"Just...don't disappear, okay?" He requested meekly. 

Umara cringed, "I won't, but on one condition, can you please come back to school soon?"

Zuko thought for a moment, "What if neither of us went to school? I can see if my Uncle will take us to Ember Island for a couple days, I don't think he's busy right now. We can practice your...'shifty thing' in the woods out there. There's less people around so we won't have to worry about someone seeing you."

Umara bit her lip to suppress a sigh. There was a lot she didn't like about that idea, but Zuko was sad. How does he always get me to act so stupid? She exhaled slowly, pressing her head against his with a bit more force. "Deal..." She reluctantly agreed.

Chapter Text

It turned out to be an awfully dreary day to travel, but Zuko was excited none the less. He would have preferred to have gotten his way as far as Azula's presence on the trip went, but this was the best he'd felt since his mother had disappeared and he wasnt going to let anything sour that mood. It didnt hurt that he was now almost positive that Unma reciprocated his own feelings. Just the fact that she'd agreed to come with him served as proof, he reckoned, being that she was never particularly adventurous.

"Zuko," his uncle quietly joined him at the front of the boat. "Perhaps you should check on your friend, she seems a bit... uncomfortable." he motioned behind them to where Umara was sat against the wheel house hugging her knees.

Zuko frowned and went to join her. "Are you okay, Mari?" he asked as he slid himself on to the floor next to her.

She nodded stifly, briefly glancing over to the front of the boat. "just nervous, I guess." she quietly shrugged.

Zuko glanced around suspiciously, but his sister was still in the wheel house harassing the driver, where she had been almost the entire ride.

"Why are you nervous?" he asked, nudging her playfully.

Umara's face flushed just a little bit. "If tell you youre gonna get mad at me." she resisted, smiling in spite of herself.

"I will not!" Zuko protested, slightly offended.

Umara rolled her eyes, "Fine. It's just...your Uncle is kind of scary..." She whispered reluctantly.

He couldn't help but let out a small chuckle, "Uncle Iroh? How is he scary?"

Her face grew grave. "Hasnt he, you know, killed a lot of people?" she whispered, her eyes darting nervously between his uncle and himself.

Zuko thought for a moment, "I never really asked, but I guess he probably did," he shrugged. "But even if he did it was for a good reason. He was only fighting in the war so we can help make the world better."

Umara was deadly silent for a moment, her eyes shifting around nervously. "I really don't want to talk about this anymore."

He leaned closer to her, "No, come on! Just tell me. I want you to be able to have fun, not be nervous!"

Umara grunted reluctantly, "Fine...I was just thinking...if we have to kill people so they'll let us make everything better, then is it really better?" she stared at him intensely as she spoke.

Zuko froze, he hadn't expected her to say that, nor did he really know how to process it. He'd never heard anyone say anything negative about the war before, but she seemed so sure of herself.

"Why would you say something like that?" He blurted, more aggressively than he had intended, averting his eyes.

"I told you you were gonna get mad!" Umara snapped anxiously. "I probably just don't get it yet. I never really learned about any of that until I came to live in the Capital, anyway." She stiffly shifted herself away from him.

He wanted to apologize for getting angry, but he couldn't manage to say anything. There was something extremely conflicting about hearing a friend say something like that, especially Umara. She always seemed so smart and insightful, it almost made him wonder.

"Yeah, you must just not get it yet..." He mumbled absentmindedly, still too uneasy to look at her.

. . .

It was just starting to rain as they crossed the threshhold of the elaborate vacation home. Umara carefully took a seat on the intracately patterned sofa in the great room as Zuko and Azula raced up the stairs to go fight about sleeping arrangements.

She sighed, spending nearly a week in the same house as an esteemed murderer and Zuko's deranged sister wasn't exactly an optimal situation, though, sacrifice was a part of friendship or at least that's what she'd heard. Hira'a was a small village, and there hadn't been many children her age that she could spend time with. It also didn't help that she was always busy with whatever strange kind of trial or test the Natoyi elders were putting her through that day.

She lightly brushed her fingers against the sleeve concealing the tattoos on her right arm. That had not been a fun day: on top of the pain, she wasn't even sure what the symbols meant. Not to mention how inconvenient they were now, she hadn't worn short sleeves in over a year for fear of them being noticed.

"You'll have to excuse my nephew,"

Umara jumped as Zuko's Uncle appeared out of the darkness. "It's been quite some time since he's been here" he smiled at her.

She could only manage to stare blankly in response, though Iroh seemed unphased.

"It's a bit cold in here, don't you think? How about I start the fire?" he asked, already making his way to the impressive looking fire place before them. He never really seemed to expect an answer when he spoke to her, which wasn't unappreciated. For all the trepidation Umara felt toward him, she had to admit he always made it a point to be kind. It was conflicting.

There was a brief silence I'm which Zuko could be heard from upstairs whining at his sister about something.

"Would you like some tea?" Iroh asked as the fireplace sprung to life.

She eyed him suspiciously for a moment before nodding timidly. There was a strange dynamic between the two, a kind of understanding that she couldnt quite put her finger on. Their first interaction at the palace had already revealed that Iroh knew far more than he let on, and she found it exceedingly interesting that he seemed to be so complacent.

"I understand why you do not trust me," he began, not looking up from the kettle he'd hung over the fire. "But I believe we may have more in common than you think."

Umara couldn't help but scoff at that, though it had certainly gotten her attention.

Iroh chuckled at her conflicted expression,
"I was beginning to think it was impossible to surprise you!" he smiled jovially as he took a seat in the chair next to her.

She regarded him carefully. It seemed like this could be some kind of trap, but her curiosity got the better of her.

"Why do you think we have anything in common?" she proded sharply as she quickly glanced at the staircase to see if any one was coming.

Iroh's expression grew grave. "We have both lost people that we loved very much, and it has brought us to question the ways of our Nation. My son, Luten, was killed recently, and it has brought me to question the validity of this war," his eyes glazed over as he spoke. It was bizzarely humanizing.

He took a slow breath and continued, "I empathize with the pain you must be feeling, but I must advise you to choose your words carefully, you never know who may be listening."

Umara gulped, "you mean what I said on the boat? You were listening?" she asked as flatly as possible, wondering if he could hear how loudly her heart was racing.

Iroh nodded. "Neither of us will be of any use if we are inside a jail cell. You must learn to be more subtle: remember, the most vibrant blossoms are also the most impermanent." he raised his eyebrows pointedly.

Umara had follow up questions, though she was too shocked to articulate them. Her eyes narrowed, "Why are you telling me this?" She whispered urgently.

Iroh's demeanor suddenly reverted to the same jovial calm he had exhibited when they first started talking.

"So, you've never been to Ember Island before? Very interesting!" He remarked loudly as Zuko and Azula came running down the stairs. Umara tensed up when she saw Zuko, still uneasy about his reaction to their earlier conversation. Fortunately, he seemed relatively unphased, happily hopping up onto the couch next to her.

"No, I haven't" Umara finally replied. "So far, it's a lot different than I thought it woud be..."

Chapter Text

Later that night, Umara lied awake in bed, a mixture of curiosity and general apprehension keeping her awake. Her talk with Iroh had really knocked her for a loop: of all people, Iroh was the last person she would have expected to agree with her, and there weren't many. Save Zuko and maybe Chey, she had little faith in the receptiveness of anyone in the Fire Nation. Like Iroh, Chey was also in the army, but seemed weary, though she was hardly convinced she could trust him. He was nicer to her than most people, though, even going so far as to voulenteer himself to be her 'host family', much to the disdain of his wife, who was, at best, slightly disdainful of Umara's presence in their home.

She squirmed uncomfortably against her mattress. Slowly looking around the candlelit room. It was nice, if one liked the elaborate sort of decoration. Like most places she'd visited in the past year, there was an air of ominosity to it. It was fitting, in a way. Her own life was beginning to feel a lot like this room, comfortable if she didnt think too much, but innately, an uncomfortable place to be. She sighed as she pressed her face harder against the pillow. She just needed some sleep, everything would feel normal again then.

With that thought in mind, Umara closed her eyes and tried to relax. She was just about to drift off to sleep when she heard a gentle rapping on the bedroom door,

"Mari, are you awake?" Zuko whispered, cracking the door just barely ajar. She breifely considered ignoring him, but couldn't manage it.

"Yeah," she responded defeatedly. "I cant sleep."

"Me either," he began as he eased himself into her room without opening the door much wider.

"I was gonna wait until tomorrow, but I kinda wanna talk to you about something, if that’s okay..."

There was an odd hesitance in his voice as he stood there all folded in on himself. Umara knew that look, whatever he wanted to talk about was making him nervous. For a moment, she was concerned he'd overheard her conversation with Iroh earlier.

She sat up, legs still under the blankets, "Come sit." She patted the bed in front of her, trying to seem nonchalant.

Zuko reluctantly obliged, carefully climbing onto the bed and situating himself cross legged in front of her. She waited for him to say something, but he just sat there staring at her. It was dark, but she thought she saw him try to say something a few times.

"Whats up?" she prodded, rocking gently back and forth "You're making me nervous." she chuckled anxiously.

"Sorry," Zuko shook his head. He stared at her for a few more seconds, chewing the inside of his lip. "So, uh...I just..." He trailed off, his face turning red enough that she was able to see it despite how dark it was.

Umara smiled at him, relieved that this was probably just another one of his overblown tangents.

"Come on," She teased, shaking his shoulder. "Spit it out!"

Zuko took a sharp breath in, "Okay so, I just wanted to say, I'm really sorry that I yelled at you earlier, and I hope you're not mad at me...'Cuz, the thing is, I like you, a lot, and I don't want you to be upset..." He mumbled, glancing up at her uncertainly.

Umara's mind went blank. Zuko had always had a strange way of picking his moments, but this was odd timing, even for him. She started at him expressionlessly for a few seconds, before deciding that she should probably say something.

"Oh," She started hesitantly. "I guess you probably shouldn't though, right?"

Zuko's brow furrowed, "What do you mean? Why shouldn’t I?" he asked, sounding more curious than hurt.

She raised her eyebrows and stared sternly into his eyes, "Because I said something that you didn't agree with earlier today, and it made you want to throw me off the boat," Umara explained slowly, slightly annoyed at Zuko's tunnel vision. "And I know, you're sorry, but that doesn't change the fact that I think about things a lot differently than you do..." She trailed off, hoping that he wasn't so naive that he didn't get her point.

Zuko frowned, "I didn't want to throw you off the boat, I was just surprised," he mumbled abashedly. "And I like that you're different, it's what makes you special." he smiled, anxiously grasping both her hands.

She stayed silent for a moment, studying his face. She hated when he did that. His stupid, naive smile was going to be the death of her one day. Or worse.

"Fine," She relented, smiling in spite of herself, "I guess I kind of like you too...but I still think this is a bad idea!"

"Really?!" Zuko beamed at her, completely ignoring half of what she'd just said.

Tunnel vision.

Umara rolled her eyes playfully, "Yeah, but now it's your turn to promise me something."

"Anything!” Zuko chirped happily, with that same, deadly smile of his.

She thought for a moment, "you're not allowed to hate me if I say or do something that 'surprises' you." she offered with a stern look.

"That's easy. I like you too much to hate you!” he replied confidently.

Umara rolled her eyes again, "okaaaay" she sighed in a song-songy voice.

. . .

The room feel silent after that, both of them shifting their eyes around nervously, unsure of how to proceed. Zuko was beginning to realize he hadn't entirely thought this through, and perhaps the middle of the night hadn't been the best time to broach the topic.

"I guess I should go back to bed..." He awkwardly broke the silence.

Umara thought for a moment, "Just... come on," she layed back down and tugged on his arm for him to follow. "No, use the other blanket," she motioned to the quilt hanging over the end of the bed. "It's weird if you're under the covers."

Zuko aquisced heaving the heavy quilt on top of himself and settling his head on the pillow next to hers.

He stared at her dreamily for a moment, the soft glow of the candlelight illuminating the stark contrast between the blackness of her hair and eyes against her light skin.

"You're really pretty." he whispered, his voice cracking a little.

"Shut up," Umara blushed. "Are you tired?" she changed the subject, seeming almost flustered, much to Zuko's delight. She was cute when she was embarrassed, and it wasn’t a common occurrence.

He shrugged, "Not really."

"Me either." She smiled at him sheepishly, shakily tracing her fingers along his jaw line, bringing them to rest next to his chin.

Zuko quite possibly would have completely melted right there, if he hadn't gotten distracted.

He craned his neck and squinted through the darkness, "What's that on your arm?"

Umara abruptly rolled onto her back, stiffly brushing her hair out of her face. "They're tattoos," She replied curtly. "But they're a secret. No one's supposed to know I have them. So...just don't say anything about it."

Her request swiftly went in one ear and out the other. "What do they mean?" He persisted, oblivious.

"I don't know," Umara replied shortly. "They were done in a hurry. It was right before they brought me into the Capital. No one explained anything to me." She snapped, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

Zuko frowned at her sudden change in demeanor. He'd always wondered if perhaps there was more to the story than his Father had told him. If it was really a favor, why did she always get so uncomfortable when he asked questions?

He sat up so he could see her face, her eyes looked unusually glassy and far away. "You never really told me why they brought you here...Is there a reason? My dad said it was a favor to you but--"

"It wasn't a favor, okay? I don't want to talk about it. You'll just be surprised again." She hissed, sitting up to glare at him.

He probably should have let it go, though, restraint was never his strong suit.

"Mari...Did something bad happen?" He prodded softly, an uncomfortable feeling spreading through his abdomen.

Umara pursed her lips and squinched her eyes closed. "Zuko...please. Just leave it alone. It doesn't..." Her voice cracked, "it doesn't matter anymore."

"...but it does matter..." He paused as little details started to click together. "You're scared of people in the military..." He thought out loud.

"Stop!" She cried, her plead falling on deaf ears.

Zuko did stop, but only to think for a moment. Shortly before Umara had shown up, he vaguely remembered over hearing his Mother and Father arguing about something having to do with some people from Hira'a. He strained to remember the conversation, something his mother had said crept into his mind.

"Ozai, please, the Natoyi are peaceful—"

It was staring to come back to him now. His Father yelled at his Mother when she said that...something about someone trying to hurt his Grandfather...

His eyes widened frantically, "Mari! Did my Grandfather do something to you?! I remember the army got sent to Hira'a...Something happened, didn't it?" he shouted. A conflicted mess of guilt and indignation began to wash over him.

Umara glared at him intensely, "Stop talking so loud! Something bad happened, okay? Now please just...go back to bed!" She whispered loudly as she stood up, gesturing sternly to the door.

Zuko barely heard what she said, a mix of conflicted anger and concern building up inside him. "That's what it is, isn't it? That's why you won't tell me! You came to the Capital because you had to!That’s why you’re scared of my Uncle! You’re not afraid of the army...You’re afraid of the Fire Lord!” he shouted painfully, planting his feet on the floor.

Zuko knew he was right. Something bad had happened to her, and all this time she was too afraid to tell him about it because it was someone in his family that had done it.

He felt as if he was going to split in two. For all he’d been taught, anyone who didn’t trust his family was a traitor, but he knew that wasn’t true in this case. Umara wasn’t a liar, and more importantly, she was his friend and...He was pretty sure he loved her.

"Answer me!” he shouted in frustration.

Umara’s shoulders shrugged as she took a deep breath.

"Don’t yell at me!" she screeched as she whirled around to face him, "I didn’t do anything wrong. No one did anything wrong! That is the whole problem! I already told you a long time ago that I didn’t want to talk about it! So just leave me alone."

Zuko's anger was extinguished when her eyes finally met his, he'd never seen her look so.. he wasn’t sure what that look in her eyes was, and he didn’t have much time to think about it: as soon as she finished her sentence, she disappeared.

After a few seconds, she came scrambling through the bedroom door, the previous tension dissolving as they gaped at each other in disbelief.

“How did you—“

Zuko was swiftly interrupted by his Uncle busting through the door, an elated looking Azula following closely behind. "What is going on in here?" he shouted sternly from the doorway.

Zuko and Umara exchanged glances, still too shocked to speak.

Unfortunately, Azula took the liberty of doing so, "She hates the Fire Lord!” Azula screeched gleefully, pointing agressively at Umara, who just blinked at her expressionlessly.

"She never said that you liar he snapped back at his sister.

"Enough," his Uncle interjected, sternly. “Azula and Umara, go back to bed. Zuko and I need to have a talk." he motioned for Zuko to follow him, leaving Azula and Umara behind in the bedroom.

“I told you it was a bad idea." Umara mumbeled as they left the room.

. . .

Umara sighed deeply as she climbed back into her bed. She didnt like yelling: it felt foreign to her. Before Zuko, she hadn’t ever gotten angry, even when she was sure she should have.

She carefully inspected her hands in an attempt to convince herself that she hadn’t just blinked temporarily out of existense. It felt like a push, in a sense. She could see Zula's anger like heat coming off of hot pavement. She'd wanted nothing more than to get away from the situation, and then, as if by instinct, she used that energy to repel herself away.

She flopped dejectedly onto her back.

That doesnt even make sense.

Her mind curiously wandered to the story of Iza and Taku, but she quickly pushed that hubris thought from her mind.

"Ahem," a small voice beckoned from the doorway.

She looked up, and much to her disdain, there stood Azula, leaning against the door jam with her arms proudly crossed.

"Aren’t you supposed to be in bed?" Umara sneered cautiously. She’d never really interacted with Azula before, but Zuko hadn’t painted a particularly appealing picture.

Azula feigned offense, "You have terrible manners, you know. When a member of the royal family addresses you, you're supposed to bow. But I suppose that’s to be expected, it 's not your fault that you were born in that pathetic little village."
She shrugged with her nose in the air.

Umara reluctantly did as she was told, remembering what Iroh had said earlier.

“Do you need something, Princess." she asked politely, nearly choking on her words.

Azula smirked, “What? Im not allowed to make conversation with my big brother's girlfriend?" she asked, feigning innocence.

"I’m not his—“ Umara closed her eyes as she rolled them. "Oh, whatever."

“I dont know what you see in him," she clasped her hands behind her back as she invited herself into the room. “He's an idiot. And you, well, you're smarter than you look, aren’t you?" She sneered matter of factly.

Umara slowly and carefully turned herself away, mindful that her arm was exposed. She suddenly regretted not taking Zuko's complaints about his sister more seriously.

“You don’t have to bother hiding your arm, I already heard my idiot brother talking about your tattoos,” Azula shrugged. “But don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. Yet.”

Umara’s heart sank. Azula had been listening to their conversation.

She’s nine. Nothing to be scared of.

“Did you come in here just to threaten me?." She snapped.

“No, I actually feel bad for you, it can’t be fun having to pretend to enjoy my brother's company.” Azula shrugged.

Umara grimaced, "what are you even talking about? Not everyone thinks he’s an idiot, you know.”

Azula rolled her eyes. "You dont need to play coy with me, I already know you're up to something, unless you expect me to believe you're happy my Grandfather finally ridded the world of that disgusting tribe of yours."

Umara exhaled sharply, pressing her tongue against the roof of her mouth to brace herself for what she was about to say, “You’re wrong, Azula. I’m actually grateful that he helped me. I may not have been able to see it at first, but he did me a favor that day. I mean, he could have just had me killed along with everyone else.”

Azula seemed satisfied with her answer, smirking at her evilly, “You’re smart to lie, I mean, it’s obvious, but I doubt my brother and Uncle are smart enough to realize that,” she started regally for the door, spinning around one last time. “But just so you know, I’m watching you, and the moment you slip up, you’re done. Understand?” She turned back toward the door and sauntered away without waiting for an answer.

Umara sat in silence for a moment, attempting to digest what had just happened, her eyes wide.

She’s nine!

Chapter Text

“Zuko,” his Uncle began sternly, "It is not right to press people about things they would rather not talk discuss.”

Zuko frowned, his eyes widening, "wait, you heard us talking?!”

Iroh nodded gravely, “yes, and I'm afraid your sister did as well,"

Zuko's stomach lurched. His eyes nervously
scanning the eerily lit ocean in front of them. Azula always spun things to get him in trouble, and he'd given her ammunition against Umaru. He groaned, "I didnt mean to get Mari In trouble... She just... looked so scared. She even said she was even afraid of you! I just thought that maybe if she told me what happened, I could make her feel better.”

Iroh gently put his hand on Zuko's shoulder.
“She has every right to be afraid of me, I do not blame her for that: what you need to realise, Prince Zuko, is that you live in a very priveleged position. Others are not so fortunate. By putting words in your friend's mouth, you have placed her in a very precarious position."

Zuko put his head in his hands, "I know," he sighed. "Mair always complains that I dont think, and, I dont know. I never thought she was right, until now...”

Iroh smiled reassuringly as Zuko's face fell, "It is important to listen to the words of those closest to you, even if they are uncomfortable at times. Umara is a very clever girl, and I am sure she will find a way to convince Azula otherwise, but it is extremely important that you do not put her in this position again, do you understand?”

"Yeah..." Zuko mumbled, staring at his feet. “Do you know why Mari's so afraid of you?” he asked, hoping for a little insight into what had just occurred.

Iroh shook his head. "I am not going to offer information that Umara would not give you herself," he warned, "but I well tell you that her people think much differently than most people in the Fire Nation: they value balance, some would argue, exsesively so. That belief made them very skeptical of the Fire Lords’ intentions for the war...That is not to say that they are against it, but where your Great Grandfather was confident and ambitious, the Natoyi prefer to be passive and patient.”

Zuko was quiet for a moment as he considered what his Uncle had just said. He knew Mari looked and acted differently than everyone else, but he never realized she had 'people', and as far as he knew, all the Natoyi went away a long time ago. As always, his Uncle was raising more questions than he answered.

"There is a story I can tell you that may help you understand, a legend that originated from the Natoyi centuries ago." Iroh offered, taking note of Zuko’s sudden quiet.

. . .

It had been particularly nice out that day, if she remembered correctly, the perfect kind of day to be hiding in the woods. Umara could hear the others calling her name, but it was no use, she wasn’t coming back. She had put up with quite a bit from the Elders and their tests. They’d tried to scare her, taunted her, thrown fire at her, and all the while they refused to tell her why. She had taken all of that in stride, but, they went too far this time. Umara was not going to let them draw all over her arms with needles, at least not without an explanation.

"Isahi," a gentle voice called softy from behind her. Umara reluctantly tuned around toward the familiar voice. Of course Junalah had been the one to find her. Umara was ready to run away when Junalah gently put her hand on her shoulder.

"You cant hide out here forever, you know. Eventually you’re going to get hungry." she smiled sarcastically.

Umara glared at her “I’m not going back. Not until someone tells me what's going on," she pouted. Junalah was a lot braver than she was, and she had always admired her for that. This was different, though: something was up, Umara could see it on everyone's face, even hers. "Why hasn’t Kamal come home yet?" she asked, carefully watching Junalah's reaction. Her eyes flashed with concern for just a moment.
"You know he snuck in, I'm sure he just hasn’t been able to find Ursa yet." she smiled reassuringly, though Umara could tell it was fake. Junalah wasnt a liar, so whatever she was hiding had to be big. It didn’t help that no one would tell her why Kamal has gone looking for Ursa in the first place. "...but I doubt that is why you're hiding out here...” Junalah raised her eyebrows pointedly.

"You know why I'm hiding!” Umara snapped.

Junalah stooped down to look her in the eyes, gently pushing Umara’s hair behind her ears. “Umara," she began gently. "I know you're scared, but it's really not that bad! I got one when I was your age too, see?" she motioned to the red spiral on her own arm.

"That's just one!" Umara protested. "they want to do my whole arm!" she tried to turn away, but Junalah grabbed her shoulders and turned her back towards her.

"That’s because you're very special!" Junalah smiled at her, placing hen hands on either side of Umara's face. "They need to make sure you'll be okay, just incase something happens."

Umara just stared at her, attempting to deduce what that implied. Had something happened to Kamal? No one was ever concerned about things like that before, though, they had never attempted to sneak in to the Fire Nation Capital either.

"Isahi," Junalah slipped her hands down Umara’s arms and grasped her hands. "We're all just trying to keep you safe, I wouldnt let anyone do anything to hurt you, okay? Now will you please walk back with me? I promise it’s not that bad."

. . .

They had just finished up when the yelling started outside. She almost couldn’t understand the soldier when he burst through the door. He was talking too fast, and Umara was already distracted by the pain in her arm. She translated what she could and managed to get every one outside without incident. Then there was more yelling. She strained to understand what was being said, but they were just going too fast. Junalah suddenly appeared next to her, and grabbed her arm, pulling her out of the crowd toward the line of soldiers.

"It's her, she is the youngest. Take her." she said shakily, eyes never wavering from the men in front of her. Umara tried to squirm away as one of other men moved toward her. “No, no, no," Junalah protested as she pulled Umara toward her, "Umara, Isahi, listen to me! lt's going to be okay, we'll be okay. You have to go with them, alright?" she insisted frantically. For the first time Umara could remember, Junalah looked afraid.

She yelped as the toad like man roughly grabbed her arm, "Enough of this!" he shouted sternly, haphazardly throwing her into the back of a wagon. "You be a very lucky little girl, you know that?" sneered at her cruelly as the wagon started to pull away. Umara managed a final glance at Junalah, who just smiled at her and nodded her head reassuringly.

Umara jolted awake, disoriented as to where exactly she was.

Just a dream...

It took a minute for the events earlier that night to come back to her, and when they did, she promptly jumped out of bed. Of all places, she was not sleeping in this house tonight. The only issue was the fact that it was pitch black outside, but it was a risk she was willing to take if it meant she could get away from this mess.

. . .

"Is that a true story?” Zuko asked as his Uncle finished speaking.

Iroh shrugged, "I can not say for sure, I’d suppose it depends on who you ask, some say it is merely a fable, others, like your friend Umara's people, believe It to be very true."

His brow furrowed. "You keep saying that... I thought Mari was from the same place as my mom?”

Iroh chuckled, patting his nephew's shoulder, "It seems you two still have a lot to talk about. I'm surprised, you spend an awful lot of time together." he remarked, a questioning took on his face.

Zuko frowned, fixing his eyes onto the glowing ocean in front of them, "Yeah... Mari doesn’t like talking about what happened before she came here. That's why we were arguing in the first place..." he trailed off with a lump in his throat.

Iroh nodded sympathetically, "It is never a good idea to press people about things they would rather not discuss, Prince Zuko, but perhaps you have just been asking the wrong questions. People are far more inclined to discuss their pleasant memories than they are to discuss their pain.”

Zuko considered what his Uncle had just told him as he watched the eerily luminescent waves gently lap up onto the beach. He sighed dejectedly as hindsight struck him like a boulder to the chest. “She kept saying she didn’t want to talk about it, but I wouldn’t listen,” He groaned. “I feel really bad. She seemed so scared.”

Iroh raised his eyebrows, glancing back toward the beginning of the path they had taken to the beach, "Something tells me she may be willing to forgive you.” He whispered pointedly.

Huh? Why do you—" he turned around and to his delight saw Umara plodding through the sand toward them.

“I uh- I didn’t think anyone would be down here..." she mumbled, glancing sheepishly at his Uncle.

She seemed spooked, streaks of dirt covering her arms and clothes. "It’s really dark on that path..." she answered Zuko’s questioning look, abashedly.

Iroh feigned a yawn, "Well then, I suppose I should be heading back, wouldn’t want Azula waking up and seeing that everyone is gone," he raised his eyebrows. "I’m sure Zuko will be able to get you back in one piece." he stretched his arms over his head and started back toward the path.

“Im sure Azula will be fine..." she mumbled a bit too loudly, illiciting a chuckle from Iroh as he walked away

Umara gave Zuko a quick glance before fixing her eyes on the ocean in front of her. He stared over at her wanting to apologize, but finding himself suddenly unable to say anything: seeing her all out of sorts made her seem so delicate. The way the dim bluish-green light reflected off of her face wasn’t helping him focus, either.

Umara did a double take when she noticed Zuko staring at her. “Does the ocean always glow like this here?” she questioned as she kicked half heartedly at the water.

"Only after it rains, there's some kind of tiny animal that makes it light up. My uncle explained it once, but I don’t remember..." he shrugged, inching himself a little closer to her.

“It’s pretty...” she replied, absentmindedly.

Zuko reached over and gently brushed his fingertips against her arm hoping she'd look at him, “I’m really sorry, Mari. I didn’t mean to yell at you.. I was just—“

Umara interrupted him by abruptly pulling him into a hug, “You’re a jerk.” she whispered sweetly, resting her head on his shoulder.

He awkwardly wrapped his arms around her waist, feeling his bones slowly dissolve into jelly, “I know...Are you mad at me?” He asked hoarsely.

“I’m not mad,” she sighed, holding him a little tighter, “I really could have gone without you waking up your sister, though...”

Zuko snapped out of his trance, stiffly pulling himself away from her, “what’d she say to you?” He growled.

“No no no, look at me,” she put her hand on his cheek and turned his face toward hers. “No more tonight. Okay? It wasn’t a big deal, I’m too tired for anymore yelling.” She smiled up at him.

Zuko relaxed when her eyes met his, though he was suddenly very aware of her holding him. He took a sharp breath, “Mari, I’m really, really sorry” his voice cracked as his heart slowly made its way into his throat. “Do you think we could maybe- uh- pretend tonight didn’t happen?” he stumbled through his words, his head swimming.

Umara stared at him thoughtfully, tilting her head to the side, “I guess that’d be okay. I’m still kind of freaked out though. I don’t really want to sleep at the house tonight...”

He almost wished she’d put her head back on his shoulder as her eyes successfully pulled all of the air out of his lungs.

Zuko swallowed hard, “You could- ahem- you could lay on me if you want—on my shoulder, I mean. So you don’t have to stay down here alone...” he cringed at his own awkwardness.

Umara smiled at him as she trailed her fingers along his jaw line until they were resting just next to his chin. “You’re face is all red again...” she raised her eyebrows in feigned concern.

Zuko stared at her, frozen, his heart pounding in his ears.

Do something, stupid!

He knew he wanted to kiss her, and that she probably wanted him to kiss her, for some reason. In spite of all that, he was panicking far too much to do anything about it.

He opened his mouth to say something, though he wasn’t sure what it was. Umara gently shook her head in protest, pulling his face closer to hers and softly pressing her lips against his.

Zuko was sure his head really had exploded this time. He had wondered before, but was sure now. He definitely loved her. He didn’t know why he wasn’t sure before, after all, she was everything he wasn’t. Smart, thoughtful, calm...

“Ow!” Umara yelped, flickering away just as she had earlier, only moving a few feet this time. “Ouch!” she giggled, hoping up and down and fanning the small of her back with her shirt.

“What happened?!” He cried, suddenly feeling the color drain from his face as he looked at his hands. “Did I burn you?!” He groaned, eyes wide with a mix of concern and embarrassment.

“Just a little” She beamed at him, trying and failing to suppress her laughter. Her face dropped suddenly as she noticed the distance between them. “I did that thing again, didn’t I?” She sighed with frustration.

“Yeah,” Zuko replied stiffly, still reeling in his own embarrassment. “I think you did.”

Umara rolled her eyes and slumped over dramatically, “Can we please wait until tomorrow to panic about it?” She complained sleepily.

“Yeah...Should I go back to the house?” He asked, his brow furrowed with embarrassment.

Umara shook her head, “You don’t have to.” She grabbed Zuko’s arm and swung herself onto the ground, nearly pulling him off his feet.

He stumbled as he sat down next to her, “why do you always do that?!” He complained in a fluster.

She shrugged expressionlessly, “I’m not sure, I just got used to doing it. You usually get frustrated if you think too much.”

Zuko was starting to wonder if that blank look she got may have been her version of looking flustered.

He took a deep breath as he laid on his back. Umara just stared at him with the same blankness, and he realized she probably was flustered.

“You can still lay on me, if you want.” He smiled at her reassuringly, feeling a bit relieved that he wasn’t the only one who got nervous.

Umara stared at him for a few more seconds before stiffly turning onto her side and resting her head on his chest. Something about knowing she was nervous put him more at ease. She relaxed as he curled his arm around her back and pulled her a little closer to him. “So why’d you kiss me before?” He teased, relishing in the fact that he finally had the upper hand.

She was quiet for a moment, “Because you weren’t taking the hint.” She shrugged matter of factly.

“Oh,” he felt his cheeks grow hot as he once again became the nervous one. “I was surprised. I figured you wouldn’t want anything to do with me for a while.” he sheepishly admitted.

Umara put her arm around his waist and squeezed, “I wasn’t upset like that. I mean, you yell all the time, but you never yelled at me before. I was scared, not angry. You can’t accuse me of things like that!”

Zuko’s heart sank as he realized that she hadn’t shouted at him out of anger. “I scared you...” he thought out loud. “I didn’t mean to, I just— I don’t know—“

“Yeah, because you don’t think!” Umara sharply cut him off. “You know could have gotten me in a lot of trouble, but you were so focused on... I don’t even know what, that you did it anyway.”

The same conflicted guilt that he had felt earlier came creeping over him once again, “Mari,” he started softly, gently pulling her chin up so he could look into her eyes. “I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to you.” he sternly reassured her as he held her a little tighter.

She nodded blankly, blushing a bit as she relaxed against him.

They lay there in silence for a while, the tension slowly dissipating into a quiet comfort. Zuko considered what his Uncle had told him earlier and softly broke the stillness, "My uncle said there's more people like you." he hoped his question was vague enough not to unsettle her.

"Yeah," she started sleepily. ''There were. A whole tribe of people with creepy eyes and too much hair.”

“What was it like where you used to live? My mom said it was a lot different in Hira’a.” He pressed, relieved that she wasn’t getting defensive.

Umara seemed to perk up when he asked that, “Yeah, it was a lot different. I didnt actually live in the village though, we lived a few miles outside of town,” she sat up facing him and played with his fingers as she spoke. “I had a different kind of family too. We all slept in one big house, and I didn’t have a mom and dad they way you do. Everyone just kind of took care of each other, if that makes sense.” She looked at Zuko expectantly.

“You guys had different stories too, right? About where Fire bending came from?” He couldn’t help but ask, his Uncle had said the story would help him understand, but he was still lost.

Umara rolled her eyes lightly, “let me guess, your Uncle told you the story about the dragons? He seems to like that one an awful lot.”

Zuko nodded, “Yeah, he said the dragons come back?”

She tilted her head back dramatically, “Okay, so, I think he may have told the story wrong. A lot of it doesn’t really translate well and—“

“Wait,” Zuko cut her off in his excitement. “You speak a different language?” Now that he thought about it, Umara did talk kind of funny sometimes, but he always figured that was just because she grew up somewhere else.

She giggled and rolled her eyes, “Yeah? I thought it was obvious. You didn’t notice when you met me that I hardly answered you whenever you said something?”

She did have a point, he was really starting to understand why Umara always said he didn’t think. “I noticed, I just figured you were just shy or something...I thought it was cute...” He shrugged abashedly. The bright look on her face right now made him glad that he was, apparently, completely oblivious.

“Well, yeah, I am pretty cute, but I also couldn’t understand half of the things you said to me,” she paused and thought for a moment, her laughter growing a bit more intense. “You’d just go off on these tangents talking about stuff, and you always seemed so excited, I didn’t have the heart to tell you I didn’t understand.”

Zuko’s brow furrowed in a mix of horror and embarrassment, “do you understand me now?!”

Umara yawned and lay back down on his chest, “Yeah, I figured it out.” she mumbled dreamily as she wrapped her arm around his torso.

Zuko held her a little tighter, “you can teach me if you want, so you have someone to talk to.”

Umara chuckled, “you probably won’t be able to learn, we talk in our throats... but there is one phrase you might find useful. ‘L’na améha’a kabi gahua’na asi’”

“Oh,” Zuko raised his eyebrows at the throaty sounding words. “What does that mean?”

Umara cuddled deeper into his chest and chuckled a bit, “It means ‘I’m a big dumb jerk but I’m really sorry’.”

Zuko cringed, cheap shot, but it was fair enough. “I’ll try to remember that...”

They lay there in pleasant silence for a while, his mind wandering quite a bit about everything that happened earlier. He still didn’t get why Umara had kissed him, he would have expected her to be a lot angrier for a lot longer, not that he was complaining. “Hey Mari?” He uncertainly broke the silence.

Umara stirred gently, half asleep. “Mmhm?”

“I um—“ he paused as his stomach lurched. “Never mind.”

She hummed softly and hugged him tighter, “yeah, I never mind you too.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 7: Dissolution

Two years later...

Everything was perfect that day. The flowers in the garden had just started to bloom, though that was hardly the beauty that Zuko was focused on. Umara smiled up at him from where she was sat in front of the pond, “These things are so cute! How do you call them again?” she asked as she tossed another crumb of bread. Zuko was so hypnotized by the sight that he barely heard what she asked him.

“Zuko? Helloooo?” She waved her hand and raised her eyebrows at him.

He slowly drifted back to the present at the sound of her calling his name, “Hmm?”

Umara rolled her eyes at him, “How do you call these things in the pond? I forgot the word.”

Zuko smiled at her dreamily, joining her where she sat and placing his hand over hers. “They’re called turtle ducks, and you’re supposed to say ‘what’ not ‘how’.” He gently corrected her, though he wish he didn’t have to. He liked the way she mixed up words, but she had implored him to teach her to speak ‘properly’ once he convinced her to start coming to the Palace on a more regular basis.

“Turtle ducks.” She smiled at him as she slowly repeated the words, her lips curling deliberately as she spoke.

Zuko’s head swum as he watched her. He had no idea why she liked him so much, but he wasn’t about to question it now. He gently took her face in his hand and kissed her. “You’re really cute.”

Umara rolled her eyes, the pleasant smile lingering on her face, “what’d I do now?”

He shrugged as he flicked at her meticulously ponytailed hair. “Nothing, you just are.” Zuko knew she didn’t like to wear her hair up, and he had told her plenty of times that she didn’t have to, but she insisted that it ‘made her look more official’.

She glanced behind them and did a double take, shrinking into herself, “you’re Dad is watching us again...” she whispered uncomfortably.

Zuko glanced back nonchalantly and shrugged, unphased by the intrusion. “I dunno. It’s probably a good thing though, right?” He figured, worst case, his Father was just looking to see if Umara seemed ‘worthy’ or whatever. Which, she definitely was.

Umara made a face at him, and raised one eyebrow, “how is it a good thing? It’s weird!” She complained quietly.

Zuko’s stomach dropped. That was definitely one of the things he didn’t want Umara knowing he thought about. He stammered trying to find something to say that would help him backpedal from the implication he just made. The smile returned to Umara’s face as she watched him squirming, she giggled and playfully shoved him.

“You’re weird...” her head tilted back and she squinted at the falling sun. “I should probably head back now, I don’t want to walk home in the dark.”

“You don’t have to, I can just take you home later!” He protested.

“No,” Umara leaned over and kissed him, hesitating a moment as he eyes shifted momentarily over to where his Father was standing. “I don’t like the Palaquin. I’d rather walk.”

“Fine...” Zuko stood up first and offered his hands to help her up, “But I don’t get why you feel so weird about it. It’s their job!”

“I can use my own legs to get home,” Umara grabbed his hands and swung herself to her feet, rolling her eyes at him on the way up. “Just like you’re going to use yours to walk me out!” She teased, smiling at him impishly.

She went missing for a month after that, and Zuko sorely wished that had been the last time he saw her.

. . .

“Don’t Come any closer." Umara demanded from within the shadows in front of him, her voice was shaking in a manner that resembled the sound of glass shattering. Something had to be really wrong, she’d never sounded afraid like this before. A feeling of dread began to creep over him...His Uncle had been awfully insistent that he sneak out for a walk in the woods.

" Mari," Zuko squeaked out as he felt the glass in her voice cut through his chest. "Where were you all this time? What happened?" He took a step closer to the shadows in front of him, only to hear the soft rustle of brush and leaves as she scrambled backwards. “Please stop," her voice cracked. Zuko could just barely make out her hand held up defensively in front of her, "I dont have a lot of time..."

His eyes were beginning to adjust to the darkness and he could now just about see her face. Something looked very off about her, though Zuko could hardly put his finger on it. Without thinking, he held his hand out and conjured a small flame.

"Put that out!" she screeched frantically. In the instant before she lurched forward and grabbed his wrist, Zuko saw all he needed to. Umara was covered in bruises, her eyes swollen. The clothes she had on were tattered and dirty, hardly covering her body.

"Someone hurt you,” he gasped as his heart sank even further. “Please tell me what happened! Did Chey do this to you?!"

Umara placed her hands on either side of Zuko’s face. “Look at me, it wasn’t Chey, okay? It’s not safe for me to stay here anymore. Do you understand?” She was panicked, her hands shaking against his face as she spoke. Zuko has barely begun to process what she said to him before an equally panicked voice came from the shadows behind her.

“Hurry up, kid. We gotta move.”

Umara abruptly closed the distance between them and kissed him roughly. “I love you, Zuko. I’m sorry,” she was crying as she let her hands slip from his face. “I’m so sorry.”

Zuko awoke in a sweat, his eyes meeting the cold, metal ceiling of his quarters.

Dreaming again...

He swung his legs over the edge of bed and clasped his hands behind his neck, attempting to shake the unpleasant scene from his mind. It was nearly a two years ago since his life had fallen into ruin. He had just lost it when Umara left. Seeing her like that, all singed and beaten, had clouded his judgement. The way Zuko looked at it, whatever she had done to put herself in that situation, she should have left him out of it: there was no reason for her to come back and shake him up like that just to leave again.

Umara had dragged him down with her.

He gripped his hair and threw himself dejectedly back onto his mattress. As much as he wanted to, he didn’t believe that. He’d made his own decisions as much as she had, though evidently neither of them had very good judgement. He still resented the fact that he had no idea what had happened to make her feel the need to run away. The commonly held belief was that Umara was kidnapped by her traitorous host parent when he defected, though, he had trouble believing that. He couldn’t let himself believe that. If she really had been kidnapped, there was a chance she could have escaped and returned home. Though, it would make sense, Umara was always resourceful. She had a way of charming her way out of trouble, as Zuko had learned by the thousandth time she’d said something entirely out of line regarding the Fire Nation. That girl could commit murder in plain sight and somehow pit herself as the victim just by blinking at someone the right way, and she was damn well aware of it. It wouldn’t surprise him if she had set him up to be banished, though he couldn’t stomach the idea.

Zuko jumped at the sound of his Uncle rapping on his door. “Come in.” He sighed, thankful for the distraction.

Iroh peaked his head in through the door, “I didn’t mean to wake you,” he started, a hint of amusement in his voice, “but it’s nearly noon. I asked the Captain to bring us to shore in the Earth Kingdom. There’s this lovely little tea shop there—“

“Why didn’t you come get me sooner?!” Zuko interrupted sharply as he scrambled around, trying to dress himself as quickly as possible.

Iroh shrugged, unphased by his nephew’s outburst. “You’re normally awake so early, I thought it would be best to let you get some sleep.”

Zuko hurriedly pulled his shoes on, still struggling with one of them as he stumbled toward the door, “You can’t just redirect the ship every time you want tea, Uncle!” He growled, planting his successfully shoed foot on the floor as he angrily shoved past him.

. . .

“You should know I am not only looking for tea on this little detour of ours, Prince Zuko," Iroh began as he placed his hands on the railing. "I’ve heard an old friend of mine may be working at one of the tea shops in this colony, and I believe their help may be quite beneficial to your quest to find the Avatar. However, it is imperative that you control your temper in the event that we manage to locate my friend. They can be quite jumpy around military types.” he raised an eyebrow tentatively.

Zuko ground his tongue between his front teeth, watching as the shore slowly grew in the horizon. “I don’t need help from one of your old Pai Sho buddies!" he snapped, eyes still fixed in front of him.

"Perhaps, but then again, the Avatar has had a hundred years to master all four elements, we made may need all the help we can get,” Iroh shrugged lightly, placing a reassuring hand on his nephew’s shoulder.

Zuko reluctantly met his gaze, his mouth in a tight line. Uncle was always underestimating him. He didn’t need anyone’s help, nor did he see the benefit of having yet another rotund philosopher around to lecture him.

“And besides,” Iroh continued, ignoring the sour look on his nephews face, “I have a feeling you may be very interested in what they have to offer, provided we can convince them to come with us.”

Zuko scoffed at that. The only thing he cared about in this situation was finding this person, whoever they were, as quickly as possible. He didn’t have time to get distracted by yet another of his Uncle’s ridiculous side quests. With every detour that they made, Zuko was reminded that he likely had very far to go before he would get his honor back, before his Father would love him again. Every day that passed felt like a stab to the heart, and he didn’t want this to take any longer than it needed to. More than anything, Zuko just wanted to go home.

. . .

"So where exactly is this friend of your's?" Zuko asked impatiently as they meandered through the market.

“To be honest with you, I'm not even sure they are here, I've heard they can be a bit of a snow bird." Iroh shrugged.

Zuko squeezed the bridge of his nose in frustration, "What do you mean snow bird?" he glowered softly. Iroh didnt answer, distracted by the array of trinkets he was carefully inspecting in the stall next to them.

"Uncle !"

"Hmmm, Oh," Iroh started, still not looking up. "I've heard that they like to move during the spring and winter. To be honest, I am that enterly sure we will be able to find them."

Zuko exhaled slowly, attempting to quell the absolute tantrum he was tempted to throw, "You said they work in a tea shop?” he growled through gritted teeth, a headache beginning to roll in from the base of his skull.

Iroh’s focus shifted back to his smouldering nephew. He knew he probably shouldn’t be toying with Zuko’s temper like this, but at least it distracted him from darker musings.

"Oh, right. From what I've heard it's a ways outside of town, near the edge of the woods..." he glanced over at Zuko, and as he had suspected, his face was growing redder with every second he spent processing what Iroh had just told him. Much to his surprise, his nephew didn’t shout at him. Instead, he closed his eyes for a moment and swallowed hard.

“Uncle,” he began quietly, teeth still clench together tightly “if you’re friend’s tea shop is outside of town, why are we here?”

Iroh shrugged, impressed at his nephew’s restraint. “It is important to take time to enjoy the simple pleasures in life, Prince Zuko, even in the most dire of circumstances.” His words wound slowly through the air as he spoke.

“Let’s just go. ” Zuko sighed as he grabbed his Uncle’s arm and dragged him out of town.

. . .

They followed the long path for quite a while. Hiking their way up and down the rolling landscape, Iroh lagging leisurely behind all the while.

“It’s quite nice here in the spring, don’t you think?” He asked jovially from where he was meandering behind him. Zuko didn’t respond, turning his head back to shoot a glare at his Uncle. At a different time in his life, Zuko probably would have agreed with him. The flowers and trees had just begun to bloom, small petals floating lazily through the air and catching on blades of the tall grass that surrounded them. It was nice, but there was no time to consider the quality of the scenery around them, not while he was still an honorless disgrace.

A small structure appeared in the distance as they rounded the top of yet another hill. There was someone fussing with some sort of small bush just outside the door. Whoever lived there noticed them in the distance and swiftly dropped what they were doing to retreated back inside.

“I believe we may have found who we came here for!” Iroh exclaimed triumphantly at the sight of the fleeing figure.

Zuko glared at his Uncle with an incredulous frustration, “You’re friend is an earth bender?” he asked, taking note of the green and tan clothing.

Iroh shrugged dismissively, “Not that I remember, though, it has been quite some time since we’ve spoken.” He quipped absentmindedly.

Zuko sighed, he wasn’t even going to touch that. Fortunately, Uncle Iroh usually had a deeper intention when he acted this dismissive and cryptic, so may as well just give him the benefit of the doubt, for now.

“Hello?” Iroh calles as he knocked on the door of the tiny, decrepit looking tea house. It certainly wasn’t what Zuko has excepted: the whole place looked abandoned, spiderwebs covering the unwashed windows.

“We’re closed!” An unnerved, young sounding voice snapped from behind the door. Whoever it was certainly didn’t sound like anyone his Uncle would be friends with.

“Come on, Uncle,” Zuko mumbled, slightly disappointed. “We’re clearly in the wrong place.”

Iroh waved his hand at him dismissively. “Come now, is that any way to greet an old friend?” He persisted warmly.

“General Iroh?” The voice squeaked skeptically, slightly less aggressive this time.

Zuko’s heart sank. He knew that voice.

“Of course!” Iroh responded kindly, ignoring his nephew’s state of panic. “And I’ve brought a friend!”

His vision started to shift out of focus as all the blood drained from his head. He knew that voice. His Uncle had just pulled off the most successful bait and switch of the century, and it was at Zuko’s expense. What good could she do for them? Aside from serving as a conduit for his Uncle to humiliate him.

The shutter snapped open for just a second slamming shut once again. There was some shuffling inside before the sound of locks clicking open could be heard. “You can come in, but whoever you’re with stays outside,” The sounds stopped, though the door was still locked when his Uncle tried it. “Tell your friend he needs to back up!” She snapped harshly.

Those words cut through Zuko like daggers as he painfully realized what was going on.

She doesn’t recognize me.

“I told you they were jumpy,” Iroh shrugged, obliviously, “Now, do as she says. Unless you’d like to spend more time arguing.” He raised his eyebrows pointedly.

Zuko robotically stepped aside, barely aware of what he was doing. He felt as if he’d been skewered through the chest. How could his Uncle keep something like this from him? He must have known where Umara had gone all this time, and not once had he offered even a sliver of reassurance or explanation.

The door creaked open slightly, a suspicious black eye peering at him from around the side until the door slammed behind him, lock clicking shut once again.

. . .

“So,” Iroh began cordially as he took a seat at one of the dusty tables. “Tell me, how is my friend Jeong Jeong doing?”

Umara glared at him with the same intensity her eyes had had the first night he met her. “He’s fine,” she replied curtly. “Why are you here?”

He ignored her urgency, hoping that he may diffuse some of the tension in the room by keeping a light demeanor. “I’m surprised you’re still here, I thought Jeong Jeong would have moved on by now.” There was really no use in trying to calm the energy in the room. Even the most level headed person would feel uncomfortable being observed so harshly.

“He did, he told me to stay behind,” she snapped. “Why are you here, Iroh?” her voice was disproportionately calm compared to the aura she was giving off.

Iroh smiled reassuringly, “Actually, I’ve come to ask for your help. You see, my nephew has been charged with a seeming impossible task, and I think you may be of some help to us.”

Umara started at him quizzically for a moment, likely trying to work out what he had just said. “What’s a neph—“ her eyes widened as she took in a sharp breath. “Oh Gods!” She cried out painfully, her demeanor quickly softening. “That’s not—What happened?!”

In spite of the deep sadness he felt at the sight of her face dropping, Iroh was relieved. It was reassuring to see that his brother hadn’t managed to steal all of the gentleness from her. Though the change he saw in her was painful to witness nonetheless. She was always such a sweet, good natured girl: hardly the hardened, mistrustful creature he saw before him now. Ozai had done a lot he hadn’t necessarily agreed with, but for him to enslave a little girl in such a way... It was even more horrific than what he had done to Zuko.

Iroh dropped his head, ashamed of the situation. “I am sorry for barging in on you like this,” he began softly. “I know I am probably one of the last people you wanted to see—“

“Save it,” she snapped. “Not sorry enough to have left me alone in the first place. Now tell me what happened, and why you think I’m going anywhere near a military boat—wait no,” her eyes rolled up thoughtfully, “an army... boat? Ugh—“

Iroh raised his eyebrows sympathetically, “A war ship?”

“Yeah!” Her face brightened for just a moment before the sternness returned. “Now, explain!”

Iroh took a patient breath. “It is quite a long story, I’m sure my nephew could explain it more clearly than I could...” he trailed off.

Umara stared at him silently. Her tongue rolling around in her mouth as she considered the implications of what he just said. Her eyes began to well up as she thought. “I don’t want to see him...” her voice cracked painfully. “Just tell me what you want.”

Iroh nodded sympathetically. “I understand this must be very difficult for you. To make a long story short, Zuko has been charged with the task of finding and capturing the Avatar, and I believe you may be one of the only people capable of helping him accomplish such a task,” he could tell he’d piqued her interest. “I can assure you, this would not involve you in any of Ozai’s affairs. He’s disowned his own son, you see, and hardly wants anything to do with our endeavor. Now, I understand that this must go against what Jeong Jeong has taught you—“

Umara held her hand up, her expression growing stern. “Jeong Jeong was not very convincing. I am not a fan of this ‘Avatar’ person. He could have stopped all of this from happening, but instead he let his friend have special treatment to start the war. If you think that there is a new one, and that they have been hiding this whole time, well, I’d hardly be sad for him. But,” she paused, her face melting back into childlike concern. “You have to answer me something,” she hesitated and took a slow breath. “...Does he hate me?”

Iroh smiled widely. There she was. He was beginning to worry she too had lost sight of herself. “Is that what you are worried about?” He began gently, she wrenched away from him as he reached out to wipe a stray tear from her cheek. “I am sure that he doesn’t hate you. Though I will say that may not be immediately apparent. He has been through a lot these last few years, and hardly comes across as the person you knew him as.”

Umara’s eyes shifted around nervously. “He’s the one Jeong Jeong told me about, isn’t he? That’s why he doesn’t think, and why he’s all... like that, now.”

Iroh nodded gravely, “I am afraid so.”

She considered for a moment, “I’ll help. I don’t want to be like Roku, so, I’ll do it. Now hurry up before I change my mind.” She twitched her head toward the door.

With that, Iroh rose from the cushion he’d been sitting on and made his way over to the door.

. . .

She didn’t even recognize me

Zuko lowered himself dejectedly against a nearby tree. He felt sick. How could his Uncle just spring something like this on him without any warning? This was the last thing he had expected, and he was even less prepared than that. He briefly considered retreating back to the ship, he was far too overwhelmed to do much else. This entire time, he’d been working to convince himself that Umara had deliberately sabotaged him. That he was angry at her. But suddenly, he just wasn’t. Any contempt he’d held for her previously had dissolved the second she glared at him through the door. All that remained now was an awkward kind of embarrassment, the likes of which he hadn’t felt since she ran away.

“Gods damn it!” Zuko screeched incoherently as he threw his head back against the tree and slammed his fists into the ground. He was angry, and embarrassed, and... fairly certain that he could make a run for it right now without Uncle noticing, if it weren’t for the fact that his legs were suddenly made of lead.

“Zuko,” his Uncle appeared in the door way motioning for him to get up. “Come.”

He sat there frozen, his heart beating quickly enough to convince him that he was having a heart attack. It would be awfully convenient if he were.

“It is bad form to be disrespectful of our host, Prince Zuko.” Iroh persisted.

“Right,” he pulled himself shakily to his feet, tightly pinching his forehead. “I’m coming.” He mumbled as he reluctantly started for the door.

. . .

The room went eerily silent as soon as Zuko entered. He managed a glance at Umara, but his eyes quickly dropped to the floor. He could feel her staring at him, which didn’t help the feeling of utter dread that was trudging its way through his veins.

“What do you say I head back to the market and find you something more appropriate to wear?” Iroh offered suddenly, startling them both. “Can’t have rumors spreading that we are harboring an Earth Bender, isn’t that right, Prince Zuko?”

The sick feeling in Zuko’s stomach intensified. He really didn’t want his Uncle to leave, but his mind was too scrambled to think of a convincing enough reason to keep him there. He cleared his throat in an attempt to jumpstart his vocal chords, “Yeah,” he mumbled at the floor boards. “That’s right...”

With that said, Iroh left the two to their awkward standoff.

“So...I’m guessing your Uncle didn’t tell you were you guys were going?” Umara was the first to finally break the silence.

“My Uncle Iroh is not a straightforward man.” Zuko fell back on formality in a desperate attempt to avoid making the situation anymore uncomfortable than it already was. It didn’t work. The room slipped back into the same horrifically awkward silence as before.

Umara craned her neck downward in an attempt to look at his face, a sudden wave of panic coming over him as he turned his left side away from her.

“You look so different now, I didn’t recognize you before.” She prodded softly, seemingly unphased by the situation.

“Yeah, I noticed.” Zuko mumbeled, briefly shifting his eyes up from the floor to scowl at her.

Umara raised her eyebrows at him impishly, “Yeah... The shaved head really threw me off!” She chirped halfheartedly.

Any anxiety that Zuko felt was suddenly overshadowed by frustration at her obvious deflecting. “Don’t patronize me!” He snapped, finally looking up. Umara unsuccessfully attempted to hide the satisfied smirk his outburst brought to her face. She looked a lot different too, much tenser and more guarded than he recalled, the softness that was once in her eyes replaced with weariness. Though, that was the extent of it, unfortunately. She was still as gorgeous as ever.

“I mean, the huge scar didn’t help either, don’t get me wrong.” She shrugged, unbothered by his shouting. Zuko’s face fell as he averted his eyes back to the floor.

Umara was never one to suffer fools, Zuko in particular. She wasn’t about to start making exceptions for His Royal Crankiness now.

He’d gotten a lot taller, almost imposingly so. He stood nearly a head higher than her now, though other than his appearance he didn’t seem to have changed too much, aside from the egregiously unchecked broodiness.

“So,” she reached out and ran her fingers along the right side of his face, illiciting an uncomfortable shudder from her friend. “Your Uncle told me you need some help finding the Avatar?” She held his chin between her thumb and forefinger, lifting his gaze from the floor and forcing him to look at her.

“I don’t need help!” He growled, harshly grabbing her wrist and pulling her hand from his face.

Umara yelped and flinched away from him so strongly that she knocked herself to the floor. Zuko’s facade finally broke, he gaped at her, brow furrowed in horror at what he had just done as he swiftly moved to help her off the floor. She scrambeled away from him.

“Stop moving like that!” She cried out, her voice trembling with the rest of her body.

Just like that, Zuko was twelve again. This brought him back to the time she had convinced him to help her practice her phasing. He’d gotten so frustrated that he couldn’t catch her that he wound up slamming her onto the ground when he finally did. It took everything he had in him to do as she asked and keep still. “Gods, Mari, I’m so—“

She waved her hand at him sternly. “No sudden movements, okay? Now help me up. Slowly!” She reached her trembling hand out for him to pull her up, using the momentum to throw her arms around him.

Zuko froze at the unexpected embrace. He certainly hadn’t felt anything like that for a long time. At least, not outside of his dreams.

Umara pressed her cheek deliberately into his chest. “Hug me back you jerk!”

Zuko finally relaxed in spite of himself, letting himself lean into the familiar warmth he felt in his chest. He held her quietly, playing with the hair on the back of her head as he wondered what the hell had happened to make her so jumpy. She was never like that, save the night she left.

He squeezed her tighter as his stomach dropped. All this time, it had been so easy to blame her for whatever happened that led to her leaving. To get himself to believe, partially, that she’d been trying to sabotage him.

He rocked her back and forth gently, fighting back his own remorse as her chest heaved with her silent sobs. He pulled her tighter against him, “I’m sorry...”

She pulled away from him once her breathing settled, “So,” she began unevenly, apparently unperturbed by what had just happened. “About this thing you don’t need help with...Why the sudden urgency? Ozai never seemed particularly concerned about the Avatar before... What changed for him to send you on the hunt?” Her face had a frustratingly familiar blank expression.

There it was. The manipulation disguised by that innocent head tilt of hers. Zuko was beginning to understand why his Uncle felt she could be useful. At the very least, she’d be able to extract information that may be pertinent to their mission. He was beginning to realize how similar to Azula she‘d become, albeit with a touch more subtlety. The worst part, he’d fallen right into her trap without a second thought.

Zuko glowered at her, “You can come with us. But, do not get in my way.” He bellowed, eliciting an unimpressed sneer from his companion.

. . .

They started back to the ship in a welcomed silence. Zuko’s head was still spinning from everything that had just happened. He couldn’t land on a solid conclusion regarding how much he trusted his old friend. She had seemed genuinely upset before, but , Zuko was growing more paranoid by the second. There just had to be an ulterior motive that made her literally throw herself at him like that.

“Why’s your face getting all red?” Umara questioned impishly as she smoothly twirled around to face him, skipping backwards in front of him.

He gently reached out and shooed her out of the way. “It’s cold.” He muttered bitterly.

I hate it when she does that.

Umara rolled her eyes and twirled back to her place next to him. “Mmhm.”

His glances at her became more frequent as they walked. She floated light footed next to him, oblivious to how frustratingly graceful she really was.

“Where the fuck have you been?” The gravely words flew venomously out of his mouth before he had the chance to stop them, eliciting an aggrieved side eye.

“What the hell happened to your face?” She retorted snappily without breaking her stride or looking up.

Zuko cringed. Cheap shot, but he had it coming.

Fortunately, Umara hadn’t prodded him about his outburst, and the rest of the walk back was uneventful.

“There you two are!” His Uncle calles jovially as he saw them approaching the base of the ramp. “What took you so long?” Iroh raised a presumptuous eyebrow at his nephew, earning one of his smoldering glares in response.

Zuko started up the ramp, pausing when he realized Umara had stalled at the bottom, her eyes shifting nervously between his men and himself. The same intense feeling of concern he’d had earlier crept back over him, his face dropping for only a moment before he caught himself.

“Hurry up,” Zuko snapped through gritted teeth. “I don’t have time for this.” He regretted his own words the moment they escaped his mouth. What the hell is wrong with me?

The resentment he felt toward himself for snapping at her yet again grew as he saw his Uncle gently offering her his hand. “What do you say I help you get settled?” He smiled at Umara reassuringly and led her onto the ship. Shooting Zuko a disapproving look as they ascended past him on the ramp.

The two had just barely disappeared below deck when Liang, the most senior member of Zuko’s crew approached him questioningly,

“Took a prisoner, Your Majesty?”

Zuko felt a wave of contempt wash over him. “No,” he began in a low, icy tone, jamming his finger into Liang’s chest. “And listen to me very carefully. If you or one of your men so much as look at her the wrong way, the consequences are not going to be pleasant for any of you. Do you understand me? No one touches her.” He hissed viciously at his crewman.

Liang cleared his throat uncomfortably, “Understood, Sir.”

Zuko simply sneered at him in response, abruptly making his way into the wheelhouse and leaving a shaken Liang to contemplate who the hell had just walked onto their ship.

Chapter Text

The candles flickered mockingly as Zuko slowly and rhythmically inhaled and exhaled. He was trying his best to clear his mind enough to be able to process the events earlier in the day, though those
attempts were proving to be futile.

He was angry, to say the least. Angry at his Uncle for tricking him, at Umara for her poorly hidden ulterior motives and, most frustratingly, at himself, for being the worst kind of coward. How much weaker could he have possibly made himself look? Putting his hands on a ‘defenseless’ girl like that. To be fair, she hardly as helpless as she looked, but that certainly wouldnt be the way the story was spun. 'Cowardly Prince Zuko—‘ The candles flared as the sound of the door creaking open broke what was left of his focus.

“How many times have I told you not to interrupt me when I’m meditating?!” He shouted at the wall in front of him.

“Never, actually," a soft, cavalier voice came from behind him as the door clicked closed. “But I’ll make a note for next time!”

Zuko whirled around to see Umara, hands clasped innocently behind her back, staring at him with that cursed blank expression of hers. He stared back at her wordlessly for a few moments, she looked unsettlingly familiar now that she had put her hair up and changed into the clothing Uncle had bought for her. It was enough to twist his stomach into a knot and make him forget him self for a moment.

“Wow, you uh—“ Zuko shook his head to collect himself, his voice returning to a low growl. “What do you want, Umara?”

Umara flicked her eyebrows in feigned surprise, “Huh, formal. In that case, Your Majesty I was wondering if I may have a word with you...Unless you’re going to beat me up again.” she shrugged and glanced pointedly back at the door.

He ground his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Of course she was playing that card.

“I didn’t ‘beat you up’, you fell!” He snapped, only to be met with a satisfied smirk.

She narrowed her eyes at him impishly, “Uh-huh, that’s what they all say.”

Zuko glowered at the cutesy half smile on her face, the smile that he had loved in a different life time. Perhaps he still would, if it wasn’t so obviously a fool’s errand. It was a ruse. All of it was, from the moment she’d reached for him in that damn tea house. There had to be a reason.

“Did you come in here just to mock me?!” He hissed with a bit less fervor. Zuko was well aware of himself slowly melting into putty.

“No, that’s not the only reason,” Umara regarded him thoughtfully for a moment as she pressed her hands together in front of her. “Stand up.”

He glared at her for a few more moments before suspiciously rising to his feet.

She purses her lips to one side disapprovingly. “Hmm.. No, that won’t do. Move forward a little bit.”

“I don’t have time for your games!” Zuko roared, the candles behind him flaring along with his temper.

He moved to plant his foot in front of him for emphasis. At the same time, Umara twirled her arms in a fluid motion, ending in a sharp flick. The next thing Zuko knew, he was crashing face first onto the floor, his leg having gone completely numb and lax.

She chortled at his horrified expression, “Okay, now we’re even!” She chirped proudly at the sight of him struggling on the floor.

“What did you do to my leg?!” He demanded as he tried unsuccessfully to pull himself back to his feet.

“So, you know chi blocking, right?” Umara began, poorly suppressing more laughter as she flopped onto the floor in front of him. “Well, apparently some people, mostly me, can actually bend chi. Those tattoos on my arm were special stances. I can undo blocks too, but I think it will be more fun to make you wait for it to wear off on its own.” She reached forward and playfully pinched his cheeks between her thumb and forefinger. “Also, your Uncle wanted me to tell you that dinner is ready. I’ll let him know you’ll be a little late.”

“Where do you think you’re going?! I command you to undo this! Now!” Zuko spat, failing to hide the urgency in his voice as he watched Umara roll herself back to her feet and start toward the door. She paused to roll her eyes at his outburst.

“See you in a little while, Your Majesty .” She bowed theatrically, winking at him as she sauntered out the door.

Chapter Text

Fortunately, it didn’t take too long before Zuko was able to limp his way to the dining room, where his Uncle and Umara were sat chatting unintelligibly about about one thing or another.

“Zuko!” Iroh cried jovially as he walked through the door. “Umara let me know you would be a bit late, she insisted that we wait for y—what happened to your leg?”

Zuko shot a look at the smug looking girl sat across from his Uncle. “She attacked me!”

Umara rolled her eyes. “Oh, I did not! If I attacked you, you would have fought back.” she shrugged innocently with a snide flick of her eyebrows.

“She’s lying! She came in my room and attacked me!” Zuko bellowed at no one in particular, hardly aware of his Uncle’s presents in the room.

Iroh half heartedly attempted to interject, though he couldn’t manage to get a word in.

“Fine! Only because you attacked me first!” The normally soft spoken girl was beginning to raise her voice in kind.

“Stop saying that! You fell!” Zuko snapped back.

“Well, technically, so did you!” Umara chortled a bit as she shouted.

The two glowered at each other from across the room. Iroh considered intervening once again, but decided against it. It was a nice reprieve to see teenagers actually behaving as such. Plus, they seemed to have forgotten he was even there.

“Drop the act,” Zuko growled as he begrudgingly took a seat at the head of the table. “I know you’re up to something!”

Umara slammed the fork she had just picked up back onto the table. “Oh, Agni. I was flirting with you. How much more obvious did you want me to make it?”

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about! It’s just like that stunt you pulled earlier! You’re trying to get in my head!”

Iroh raised his eyebrows as he saw a distinct shift in his nephew’s aura as he shouted defensively at his friend. The anger had abruptly melted into turmoil.

Umara stared quizzically over at Zuko for a moment, nonplussed by the accusation. “You mean when I hugged you!? I have a secret ulterior motive because I gave you a hug!?” She shrieked as she aggressively smacked her hand against the table.

Zuko’s face was beginning to contort painfully as he glared misty eyed at his adversary. “Exactly! You think you’re so clever. It’s obvious you’re planning something!” He hissed as his voice rose a few octaves.

Umara ventured a quick, bewildered glance at Iroh, who was doing his best not to look interested in the conversation. He had expected Zuko to be a bit resistant to the surprise reunion, but this was something else entirely.

“Why? Why does me giving you a hug and flirting with you mean that I’m ‘planning’ something?” Umara raised her eyebrows cynically as his composure continued to decompensate .

“...Because why else would you want to?!” Zuko’s facade finally broke as he tearfully bellowed back at her.

The broken sound of his words hung heavily in the air as the room dissolved into a heavy silence.

“What do you—“ the bewilderment abruptly fell from Umara’s face. “Oh, Zuko....No...” she cried out in a strangled mewl. “Don’t thi—“

“Just get out.”

Umara’s eyes shifted worriedly back to Iroh, who inclined his head reassuringly toward the door. She stole a last, uncertain glance at Zuko before reluctantly scampering out of the room.

. . .

“You know, it is unbecoming of the Prince of the Fire Nation to speak so harshly to a young lady.” Iroh shrugged as he casually picked at the food in front of him. He knew he had to choose his words carefully, lest he make the situation more volatile than it already was.

His nephew continued to lour pensively at his food, hardly aware of his Uncle’s voice. He seemed to have caught his own self off guard with his outburst.

“Zuko,” Iroh prodded carefully. “Perhaps you should consider going to speak with your friend, I do not think she intended to upset you—“

“I think I’ve said enough for today.” Zuko muttered shakily as he let his head fall into his hands.

Iroh considered for a moment. He didn’t want to disrupt his nephew’s introspection by provoking his temper, but he had been offered a rare chance at some receptiveness.

“I can appreciate why you are feeling this way,” he began gently. “When we do not view ourselves in a good light, it is easy to get lost in the shadows within our own minds. When this happens, the torches of love that others hold for us can light the way out, but only if we do not allow our own insecurities to smother them.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Zuko grizzled as he tearfully lifted his head from his hands. “Even if Umara was being genuine, her feelings are misplaced. I’m not the person she remembers.”

Iroh suppressed a frustrated sigh. Zuko was often stubborn, but it seemed now that he was, on some level, being intentionally obtuse. Though, he did give the girl credit, not even a day and she had already managed to break through to his nephew in a way that had eluded even him.

“I am not going to tell you what you should or should not do in this situation,” Iroh shook his head impatiently. “Though, you may want to consider at least bringing her something to eat. She is looking a bit gaunt lately, in case you have not noticed.” He raised his eyebrows pointedly at his nephew.

Iroh knew he hadn’t noticed. Zuko had been so caught up in his own self pity that he hadn’t bothered to pay attention the fact that the poor girl looked like she hadn’t eaten or slept in weeks.

Zuko glanced uncertainly a few times between where he sat and the previously occupied seat next to him before stiffly rising and grabbing both his and Umara’s plates from the table. He shot a final, pouty glare in Iroh’s direction before stomping out of the room.

Iroh couldn’t help but chuckle, albeit a bit painfully, once Zuko had left the room. Regardless of the extreme circumstances, there was something quite refreshing about the conversation. It had been a long time since he’d gotten to help a young man navigate ‘girl problems’, after all. He’d been so preoccupied with the war when Lu Ten was younger that he hadn’t fully appreciated such moments. All Iroh could hope was that he would be able to help his nephew find his true place in the world: he didn’t want to lose yet another child to the twisted ways of the Fire Nation.

Chapter Text

Umara stared off at the sinking horizon as the small boat sloshed it’s way through the dark ocean. The moon reflected ominously off the water around them, the only brightness coming from the occasional burst of the flames into the engine.

“So....do you wanna talk about it?” Chey asked cautiously from where he was crouched, bending their way into oblivion.

Umara tossed her head, spooked by the sudden break in the hypnotic silence, “What? No!?” she shot a sour look at the unbefitting question.

Chey paused his bending for a moment, wringing out his hands. “Yeah, I guess I probably shouldn’t have asked that, huh? Sorry... I’m-uh- I’m not real good with kids...I guess you probably know that by now, eh?” he trailed off abashedly. With a quick side eye in his direction, Umara fixed her eyes back onto the horizon. Chey wasn’t a bad person, per se, but Gods, this was not a good time for his doltishness.

“Listen,” he began gently, placing an ill-considered hand on her shoulder. Umara cried out and roughly smacked his hand away as the touch aggravated the searing pain in her back. Chey cringed, “We can get those burns fixed up when we land. I know they must hurt...I’m—um— I’m real sorry, kid. For everything.”

“Yeah—I have a name, you know!” She snapped, stiffening a bit as he dejectedly turned his attention back to the engine.

The eerie silence crept back over the boat as he glanced nervously over at her a few times. “Things are a lot different, out there in the world. I think you’ll like it, but, uh—” a look of concern suddenly befell Chey’s face. “You gonna be okay, you know, communicating?”

“What do you mean ‘communicating’? I barely even have an accent anymore!” Umara glared at him resentfully once again. He really didn’t know when to shut up.

“I know, you learned pretty fast, I wasn’t insulting you...The thing is, the world is a big place. There’s all kinds of accents out there, and I just figured they might throw you off. Not everyone speaks like the Fire Nation nobles... Not that I’m nobility, just got lucky that a beautiful girl with an important Father happened to fall in love with me. Still don’t know why she did—“

Exhausted tears began to roll down Umara’s cheeks as the rambling sound of Chey’s voice faded into white noise. She couldn’t bear to listen to him prattle on about the life she’d ruined. He was a relatively nice man, despite his misplaced loyalties. He could have been happy, if it weren’t for her.

“Is she going to be okay? Why did you even help me?” Umara barely managed in a strangled sob.

Chey shook his head defiantly, “You don’t gotta worry about Ilaya, she’s a lot like you, you know, smart lady. She’ll talk her way out of any trouble I got her in. Plus, I was on the way out either way, and I think she suspected...” he paused and considered for a moment,

“Listen, I’m not a bad guy, you know. I joined the military because I really thought the Fire Nation was out to make a difference, but at what cost, right? Gods, what a massacre that day was,” he cleared his throat at the sight of the girls desperate stare.

“Anyway, it wasn’t supposed to go down like that, but I was in no position to argue. I figured the least I could do was try to do right by you, and believe me, I tried. It seemed to all be working out, for a while. But what Ozai did, I never saw it coming: even after the way he convinced Azulon to double cross your people....Once I found out... that’s why I tried to get you to leave with me months ago. I just wish it didn’t take so long to figure a way to get you away from him. I swear, it wasn’t supposed to be like this...”

Umara swallowed another sob. “What are you talking about, Chey? What does double crossed mean?” A wave of dread came over her. She had wanted answers for so long, but now it seemed they may hurt more than they could help.

Chey let out a long sigh, pulling uncomfortably at his hair. “So, to start with, you and the Prince...You guys didn’t meet by accident, it was—“

Umara started out of her reverie at the sudden sound of a flat, husky voice behind her.

“—You shouldn’t sit like that, no one is going to notice if you fall.” Zuko regarded her darkly, annoyed that she would be so thoughtless as to sit with her legs dangling over the side of a warship.

“Huh? Oh... yeah.” She shrugged absentmindedly as she reached toward him to steady herself. Zuko hesitated a moment before reluctantly grasping her arm.

“It’s been a while since I was on a boat...”

Umara seemed out of sorts, and he could only assume it was a symptom of the second hand embarrassment she felt at his expense. He’d made an utter fool of himself at dinner... He shook his head and pushed the thought from his mind as he watched the ends of her tightly ponytailed hair billow lazily in the breeze behind her as she stole an uncertain glance up at him. Zuko swallowed hard, loathing the way the setting sun highlighted her delicate features. She really was beautiful, objectively, of course. Anyone would get a pleasantly sick feeling seeing what he was seeing. It didn’t mean anything.

“I, er, I brought you something to eat. I left it in your room,” Zuko began flatly, his face twisting slightly in concern, “I didn’t think you’d be out here...”

“Yeah, me either. One of your er...people...Scared me in the hallway. He seemed really freaked out and started apologizing and calling me ‘miss’ so I let him take me outside,” she impishly raised on eyebrow at him. “He said you told him I was important.”

“The word is ‘crewman’,” Zuko began formally, unwittingly charmed by the accented twinge of her voice. He uneasily turned around to see Liang a few paces away. His eyes narrowed into a foreboding glare, bringing his chief officer to casually divert his attention to the sky above him.

Zuko turned back to face Umara, who was curling her lips silently around the word ‘crewman’ in a strikingly familiar way. The sight brought a wave of the same nostalgic warmth that he had felt earlier. He would have expected her to have a better handle on her vocabulary by now, not that it made it any less endearing that she didn’t.

Damn it.

“You, um...” Zuko ground his tongue against his teeth in a futile attempt to sweep the fluster from his mind. “You look nice...” the words fell uncertainly toward the floor as he tried to focus on anything other than the ethereal little creature in front of him. Umara managed to catch his shifting eyes with her own, a cautious shadow of a smile spreading across her lips.

“You do too,” she gingerly touched her fingers to his cheek and turned his gaze toward her. “Really. Very— hmm,” she pursed her lips thoughtfully. “How someone is that looks royal and handsome...” she raised her eyebrows at him expectantly.

“Regal—eurgh,” Zuko caught himself falling into her trap. “Cut it out, Mari.” He grumbled sadly as he tried to turn away, only to have her catch his chin tightly between her fingers.

“You cut it out!” she flashed her stern, velvety eyes at him. “Enough with the self hating! Come inside with me, there’s something you need to know.” She abruptly let go of his chin and sauntered off. Breaking the hazy spell she had put on him.

Zuko knew the implications of her cat-like, hissing, tone very well, and he wasn’t about to get into another shouting match for the entire ship to witness. His attention snapped loathsomely back to Liang, who was looking quite amused by what had just unfolded.

“What are you doing standing around?! Get back to work!” Zuko screeched as he stomped back inside.

. . .

Liang relaxed when the two were both out of sight. That was certainly interesting, to say the least. The girl was fearless, for such a jumpy little thing. Especially in the face of a person who, as far as Liang knew, would readily fling someone overboard at the slightest hint of insubordination. He squeezed his shoulder uncomfortably: his arm still ached from the way the girl had twisted it when she reflexively slammed him into the wall. She was disproportionately powerful relative to her gaunt frame, and offered little explanation aside from ‘it’s a Natoyi thing.’, whatever that meant. There was something almost unearthly about the way she carried herself. It seemed even Zuko, in all his dramatic ferocity, wouldn’t dare trifle with her.

Who is that?

There were a few rumors beginning to swirl around the ship. Some more believable than others. Some speculated that she was betrothed to the Prince, at some point, only to be kidnapped by a defector. It would make sense, almost. Zuko was behaving a bit possessive. Though, she certainly didn’t act like any captive he’d ever encountered before. A gift from General Iroh, perhaps? Some Earth Nation comfort girl to help calm the boy down? He felt it would be out of character for the General, however, Iroh was Ozai’s brother. Ruthless in his hay day.

Liang grimaced, that was a dark thought. Traitorous, in a sense. He was over thinking it. No reason to let the hormone fueled jealousy of a teenager lead him down a path to disloyalty. Though, he couldn’t shake the odd feeling.

There was something that just didn’t feel human about her.

Chapter Text

“Shut the door.” Umara motioned at him gravely. “Listen, you were right about me hiding something, but it’s not what you think.” Her uncertain eyes flitted to gauge his reaction.

Zuko felt a painful gurgle in his stomach there was something more vulnerable to her demeanor, the unfeeling confidence absent from her eyes.

“I can’t tell you exactly what it is, because I don’t think you’d believe me. But trust me, what happened to me was a lot worse than losing a fight. You’re not the only one who’s screwed up.” She turned her back to him and motioned to the back of her qipao top. “Untie this.”

Zuko was tempted for a moment not to question her, but drew back uncertainly once his finger brushed against the cord holding her shirt together.

“Why?” He snapped at her skeptically. “What does you taking your shirt off have to do—“

“Ack. First of all, I’m not asking you to take my shirt off, so that’s on you. Second of all, I’m trying to show you something, and trust me, whatever weird, horny thing you’re feeling is gonna go away pretty quick, now just untie the knot at the bottom and pull the sides apart!” She scoffed at him, waving her hand sternly over her shoulder.

Zuko’s face burned at her accusation, “Wha- I am not—Whatever.” He slowly pulled at one of the ends of the knot, nearly undoing his own composure along with it. He swallowed hard as he watched it unravel, “I really don’t see the poin—“

“Oh, Agni!” Umara wrenched her shoulders in an attempt to loosen the back herself. “How are you still so awkward!?” She complained as she fought against the garment, eventually resorting to reaching back and firmly pulling the sides apart herself, opening it far wider than she’d intended.

Zuko chocked when his eyes fell upon her secret. Partially obscured by the crisscrossing strings were long, snakelike rivers of red, leathery skin. It took him a few nauseated seconds to fully understand what he was looking at. They were scars, much like his own, but more meticulous. This wasn’t done by some errant blast, they were long and slender, as if someone had deliberately ran their fingers across her back.

Whip marks...

“Who did that do you?!” The anguished cry exploded from his lungs as the full force of how unnecessarily cruel he’d been crushed his chest.

“Can you pull those, please?” Umara was casually fiddling with the strings behind her in an attempt to tighten the shirt back together.

“Mari!” Zuko urged as the room whirled out of focus around him.

She glanced back at him and rolled her eyes, miffed that he’d ignored her request. “Oh fine, you’re no help. I’ll do it myself,” she pulled on the strings dangling on either side of her lower back, successfully getting the garment to cinch back together. “So, I’m ‘Mari’ again, huh? I guess that means—“

He grabbed her shoulder and roughly spun her around, “What happened?!”

Umara met his trembling gaze, matching it for just a second before reverting to an unbothered expression. “I got burned,” She shrugged and gently plucked his hand from her shoulder, squeezing it as she returned it to his side. “I figured that went without saying.”

“Stop doing that! You know what I’m asking!” Zuko had realized far too late that Umara hadn’t been trying to trick him or set him up. Her attitude hadn’t been malicious at all, she’d just been deflecting.

“Fine. Someone big and powerful kidnapped me and locked me up. I tried to escape on my own a couple times, but I got caught and he punished me. Once I finally did escape, my stupid jerk of a boyfriend decided that I must be some kind of evil person, and then made a special detour a year and a half later just so he could come yell at me about how horrible I am. Happy?” Umara raised her eyebrows at him facetiously, unimpressed by his sudden concern.

Zuko cringed, sarcasm was never a good sign coming from her. It meant she was mad, or whatever it was that she felt in place of anger, rather. She should be screaming at him, he’d prefer it if she was. That wasn’t Umara, though. Somehow as hurt as she must be, she still handled things better than he did: even after how awful he’d been treating her. He knew he had to choose his next words very carefully. He thought for a moment, taking a slow breath to settle himself,

“I mean... technically the detour was my Uncle’s idea—“

“Oh for—just get out!” She glared at him and pointed harshly to the door.

Zuko opened his mouth to argue, but thought better of it. He skulked out of the room, pausing in the doorway when he heard Umara pointedly clear her throat.

“You know, if you need to go yell at someone, your Uncle was the person who helped Chey and me escape.”

“What?!” Zuko shrieked, his anger successfully reawakened.

She shrugged and shooed him the rest of the way out of her room,

“Bye!”

Umara locked the door behind him, immediately dropping her facade the moment he was gone. Her fingers scraped down her face as she sunk dejectedly against the door, the pit in her stomach threatening to swallow her whole. It was stupid to send him after his Uncle. What would happen if Iroh told him what Ozai had tried to do?

I should have just died with everyone else.

. . .

“I cant believe you didnt tell me!"

Iroh quizzically squinted one eye mid-sip from his tea cup. "I am afraid you are going to have to be more specific.” He shrugged as he watched his nephew stewing in the doorway.

"Stop playing coy, Uncle! Umara told me that you were the one that helped her and that traitor escape!" Zuko spat as he slammed the door shut behind him.

Iroh sighed and set down his cup. Whatever the girl had told him, Zuko had clearly missed the point.

"You should be mindful of who you call a traitor, Nephew. It was a desperate situation that called for decisive measures. Chey gave up life as he knew it to save your friend, you really should be more greatful. Unless you would have preferred she stay in such a terrible situation.” He watched as the gears spun in his Nephew’s mind. There was no doubt the boy must have been overwhelmed by what Umara had told him, though Iroh could tell she hadn’t given him the whole story. He was far too calm.

Zuko tensely rubbed his temples, “She said someone ‘big and powerful’ kidnapped her. Who was it?” his voice has settled into a low, impatient, hiss.

Iroh shook his head gravely, “I’m afraid that is not my story to tell, but if you’d like, I could expand a bit on the reasons for your betrothal.”

“What?!”

Iroh cringed, judging gets by the look on Zuko’s face, he had said too much.

It seems the girl was less forthcoming than I had expected...

“Uncle!”

Well, this was certainly an unfortunate turn of events. He was sure Chey would have said something to her, though in hindsight, he could see why she would have chosen to keep such information to herself. Though, it was no matter, there certainly wasn’t any coming back from his slip up.

Iroh let his shoulders drop, “do you remember sometime ago, Umara and yourself had gotten into a disagreement while we were on Ember Island. I told you a story in an attempt to help you gain some perspective—“

“Skip the anecdote and get to the part where you tell me what the hell you’re talking about—ahem” Zuko’s overzealous growl abruptly caught in his throat. “Please.”

Iroh sighed and pulled a cushion in front of him. “Perhaps you should sit down, you are not going to like what you are about to hear...”

. . .

Iroh sat obediently, albeit a bit unsettled, beside Azulon as he watched Ursa translate for the unusual, pale looking native man in front of him. He had some knowledge of the Natoyi and their beliefs, but he hadn’t expected the Fire Sages to be apprised of such things.

"He says they'll give you the girl, all they ask in exchange is to be left in peace." Ursa reluctantly interpreted the young man's offer. She knew better than to put so much faith In the Fire Lord’s word.

Azulon considered for a moment before sharply consulting the elder Fire Sage to their left. "Humph, and you have corroborated these claims, Arak?"

"Yes, your Majesty, we tested her ourselves." Arak replied formally with a short bow.

Ursa’s soft voice could be heard repeating what was being said in a throaty, drolling language as the flames cast the quiet room in an ominous light.

“How old?” Azulon questioned curtly, breaking the forbodding silence.

The man seemed a bit vexed by the question, finally giving an answer after some back and forth with Ursa.

“They dont keep time the same way we do, but his best guess is around nine or ten years old." Her voice began to shake with the harsh realization that they were speaking about a child.

“A bit young for Prince Lu Ten, don’t you think, Iroh?" Ozai sinisterly interjected, obviously pleased at the revelation.

"I would say so. Not to mention, it may not be wise to put a native woman in a position to become Fire Lady in the future." Iroh raised his eyebrows as he subtly derided his younger brother.

It was a truly horrific situation, but he knew better than to object. He would be of no use to anyone if he got himself banished.

Azulon considered for a moment before addressing Arak once more, "And this will being a new era of prosperity for our country?"

"Yes, your Majesty. It certainly fits the legend. The royal bloodline is most ambitious, it’s continuing good fortune would be solidified with the addition of such a creature.”

Iroh muffled a scoff. Such texts seldom translated well, but that was most definitely not the narrative. Either the Fire Sages were once again twisting ancient texts to fit their own agenda, or the Natoyi were far more clever than he had thought. He was hardly convinced the Fire Sages were so astute.

"Very well," Azulon began, clapping his hands together. “She'll go to Ozai's son when they are old enough. But the children will know nothing of it, lest the girl become a flight risk. You three are dismissed."

Ursa ushered the lithe native out of the room followed closely by Arak.

"If I may Father, would it not be more impressive should the family to possess something more unique than a mere savage?" there was venom dripping from Ozai’s words as he spoke them. “A native, on its own, is far from anything special, but the last of an ancient race, well, that is quite noteworthy, prestigious even, don’t you agree?”

Iroh felt his blood go cold, nothing good was going to come from his brother's implication, that much was certain.

“Say what you mean, Ozai.” Azulon snapped impatiently at his theatrics, though he was clearly interested.

In his revulsion, Iroh couldn’t stop himself from interjecting.

“You are talking about genocide! There are few who are even aware that the Natoyi still exist, there is no reason to—“

“If that’s the case, no one would miss them should they all die tragically of a plague.” The dark, predatory smirk that spread across his brother’s face nearly made Iroh physically ill. This was even worse than what they had done to the Southern Water Tribe.

Azulon nodded his head thoughtfully, “What do you suggest?”

No!

An evil, prideful look crossed Ozai’s face, “Well tell the troops that the representative that was here today tried to assassinate you: that the Natoyi are a terrorist group and the girl was spared as an act of mercy. Should the citizens in Hira’a question anything, we tell them that the Natoyi had contracted a terrible blight and had to be dispatched to protect the general population.”

Iroh was useless to object, he sat frozen as he heard his Father agree with Ozai’s despicable plot. There was little that could be said: there was no reasoning with someone who found genocide in the name of regality an acceptable strategy.

Oh Spirits, forgive me...

Chapter Text

The words started as incoherent mumbles that eventually worked their way up to shouting.

At least, Zuko was shouting. Iroh’s voice was barely audible, rolling it’s way through the air in that grave-yet-unperturbed tone of his.

As she cautiously crept her way toward the source of the sound, Umara wondered if anyone realized how much things echo, or if they had all become so accustomed to living aboard a floating prison that they had all ceased to notice. She ventured it was the former, being that there was, fortunately, a notable lack of crewmen wandering the halls. Perhaps they all felt it was better not to listen to the grim whispers, like the good, obedient soldiers that they all so desperately wanted to be. Umara chuffed at the thought, not that she was in any place to judge them: the Fire Lord had gotten to her, too.

She wasn’t sure how it happened, regardless of the kidnapping or meticulously crafted manipulation. Umara had always thought herself stronger than that, but he’d gotten her under his thumb before she even realized what was happening. It was only when she came down with a peculiar illness that things had started to fall back into place. She’d hallucinated for days before she finally woke up, free from Ozai’s mind games.

Umara wasn’t sure what ’metamorphosis’ even meant, but she was unimpressed with the end result. Whatever-it-was hadn’t stopped her from letting her feelings screw everything up at the last minute.

What if she’d made the wrong decision? Perhaps she should have stayed: after all, Ozai hadn’t hurt her—

No.No! Stop it right now. Focus.

She pushed the thought from her mind as she gingerly brought her ear to the door.

"What about any of that wasn’t complicated? The part where Grandfather wiped out an entire village, or the part where you didn’t try to talk him out of it?!”

Oh, Agni!

Iroh thought it’d be a good idea to tell that story? She could kick herself for expecting him to find a way to subdue Zuko’s damned curiosity. He was just as bad as Jeong Jeong, always making more questions instead of answering the one at hand. No wonder they needed help so badly: it was becoming glaringly apparent that ‘wise’ men from the Fire Nation only knew how to start fights they wouldn’t have to finish themselves.

Speaking of which...

. . .

Iroh watched his nephew's crumpeled form silently. He'd expected Zuko to immediately blow up at his dark confession, and felt quite proud that his nephew was taking a moment to process what he'd just heard.

Of course, it was terribly short lived.

Zuko defiantly threw his hands up, "Why are you just telling me all of this now ?"

"You were so young when it happened, I felt the burden of my own guilt was not yours to bear,” Iroh hung his head, brow furrowed with regret. “And besides, the two of you were getting along so well, I felt it best not to complicate the situation...“

"Not complicate the situation," Zuko spat, "What about any of that wasn’t complicated? The part where Grandfather wiped out Umara’s entire village, or the part where you didn’t try to talk him out of it?! Gods, Uncle, how could you keep something like this from me?!"

"Stop screaming!" A harsh whisper interrupted from the doorway. “You guys know everything echoes here, right?!"

Umara shook her head, shooting a disapproving glace across the room as she clicked the door closed behind her, "I was-er— " she cupped her hand and stiffly brought it to her ear.

"Eavesdropping?” Zuko snapped from the corner of his mouth, taking care not to look directly at her.

She repeated the word under her breath as she settled herself on the floor between them.

"You knew about all of this?!" Zuko hissed, eyes fixed pointedly on his tea cup.

“Of course I did! But, it's not your uncle's fault, so stop yelling at him!" She gave Iroh a cold side eye as she finished her sentence.

Zuko shook his head and stole a careful look up at her, "You know he didnt try- "

"I didn’t say I think he's a good person, I said it is not his fault. Speaking up wouldnt have done any good. You, of all people, should you understand that.”

Zuko shot a silent sneer in response, hastily returning his attention back to his tea.

Umara grunted impatiently and snagged the cup out of his hands, catching his gaze when he turned to protest.

“This is exactly why no one ever tells you anything!' she complained, taking a particularly aggressive swig from the cup.

“I understand this must be difficult for you,” Iroh attempted to interject, placing a gentle hand on Umara’s shoulder only to be forcefully shrugged off. “But it is important to remember that not everyone shares your talent for—“

“Will both of you just.... stop.” Zuko's husky voice was uncharacteristically even as his eyes darted tensley between the two, eventually settling on his Uncle.

“How could you sit there and let something like this happen, Unc—"

“Gods, how are you still so self centered?” Umara barked as she shook her head disapprovingly, the dim lighting cast her scowl in a grave shadow. “You don’t get to die on this hill, Zuko!”

“What are you talking about?" Zuko's head snapped around, eyes colliding with Umara’s steadfast glare.

“Last time I checked, you were hunting the Last Airbender because ‘it will restore your honor’. Speaking of which, remind me, why is there only one left?” She raised her eyebrows pointedly.

“That’s not the same—“

“I’m over it, okay? You don’t have to pretend to care.” The words shot from her lips, cutting through his chest with the presicion of a Yuyan archer.

He suddenly felt as if he were staring at the light at the end of a dark tunnel as he watched her tensely gnawing at the inside of her lip.

He hadn’t heard what she said, not really . The Fire Nation had a way of making one deaf to any criticism, but regardless of his selective hearing, he wasn’t going to go on letting her think he didn’t care, at least for one night.

Everything else seemed to disappear as he tried desperately to read her mind.

She turned and said something to someone; Uncle, perhaps? He couldnt be sure, there was too much happening in his own mind.

Did she blame him? It would make sense if she did. Her life was a drop in the bucket of things he'd ruined by just existing. He was an embarrassment, and a disappointment: He was—

"Zuko!”

— burning a hole in the cushion!

Umara tittered as she pulled his hand away from where he'd been been anxiously gripping it, “you don’t have a handle on that by now?”

“Yeah— I do, usually,” Zuko shook his head in an attempt to relieve the fogginess in his mind. “Can I ask you something?”

“Mmhm...” Umara hummed absentmindedly. She quickly let go of his wrist, pulling at her clothes as she righted herself. “Cough—Yeah. What?”

“Why are you not more upset about this?" he stumbled over the gentleness of his own words.

Umara stared at him blankly for a few seconds, there was something strangely comforting In the way her lips pinched to one side. A familiar expression, though the impish joy was absent from her eyes.

For the first time all day, she mirrored the exhausted melancholy that he himself hid carefully away in the recesses of his mind.

“Because it wont fix anything,” she began weakly. “And maybe it’s better this way...They aren’t around for me to hate them...” Umara shrugged with an uncertain flash of her eyes.

Zuko has almost forgotten why he was so intimidated by her. She really could be unsettlingly indifferent when she wanted to. “That’s—ehrm— Gods, that’s dark. Even for you.”

“Did you miss the part where they sold a little kid to someone they didn’t even trust?” Umara snapped.

“That’s fair,” he mumbled sheepishly, not wanting to push the issue. “So, that’s why you ran away, then?”

She rolled her eyes at him, "Oh, Agni. I already told-ack— no, Zuko," a half hearted smile crept onto her lips. "I didnt run from the idea of being stuck with you.”

He felt his face go red, she'd managed to pleasantly fluster him and make him feel like an ass all with one bittersweet little smirk.

“Don’t get me wrong, I probably would now” she interrupted his floundering with a brassy tone. “You’re kind of a jerk, you know.”

She had him there. Though, to be fair, this wasn’t the first time in his life she’d called him a jerk: he’d lost count when she started resorting to other languages just to keep things interesting. Granted, she’d never wrongly called him out, and today was certainly not the exception.

“Right,“ he cringed. “About that—“

“Come outside with me.” Umara commanded, springing to her feet.

"What?" Zuko shook his head, disoriented by her abrupt change in demeanor.

She pulled his arm impatiently, “Come- outside-with-me. It is too depressing in here."

He barely managed to stumble to his feet as Umara dragged him behind her. “Gods, Mari! Why do you always—ah," He choked on his own, whiny tone. It was as if the words had come an entirely different person: from some forgotten sliver of an innocent, ungainly little child that couldn’t seem to give up.

Umara seemed to notice as well, pausing for an instant to glance back at him, cheeks sucked in and eyebrows dramatically raised in playful surprise.

For one, fleeting, moment in time, they were just two children: unbothered by the cruel realities that had brought them to where they stood.