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Chapter Text

Zuko awoke, blinking sluggishly. Something was wrong… something was on his face… his mask! His hand shot to his face, and he bolted upright. His mask was still on. He breathed a sigh of relief. Looking around through still-hazy vision, he realized he was alone, and in some sort of… forest? Swamp? Judging by the terrain, he wasn’t that far from Pohuai, but how had he gotten here? As his head cleared and he took in his surroundings more carefully, his eyes landed on a few characters scratched neatly into the mud by his head.

Gone to take frogs to Sokka and Katara. Will be back ASAP -Aang

He groaned. He must’ve been knocked out, somehow… He remembered inching away from the fortress, blades at the Avatar’s throat, heart beating a fierce staccato against his chest… and then nothing. So the Avatar – Aang – had brought him here. But he must not have figured out the Blue Spirit’s identity, he realized with a jolt, hand going to his mask. Otherwise, he would have left him to Zhao.

Zuko stood, coming to a quick decision. He couldn’t stay and wait for the Avatar to return – he was still dizzy from being knocked out, and he’d be likely to lose. Besides, he couldn’t compromise his biggest secret. If anyone found out he was the Blue Spirit… Zuko felt sick at the very thought. Glancing at the sun for navigation, he left the clearing and headed back to the Wani.

***

Aang couldn’t believe how long it took to find frozen frogs. It had been so easy the first time, but now it was as though they had all vanished! Finally, he had what seemed like enough, and he set off back to his friends.

The healing took forever, too. He was torn between impatience and concern – what if the frogs didn’t work? What if they melted too fast, and he had to go get more, and he couldn’t find any? What if they were actually poisonous frogs, and that was why Sokka and Katara still hadn’t woken up – 

“Aang?”

“Sokka! You’re awake!”

“How was your trip? Did you make any new friends?”

“Yes! He’s unconscious right now but-“

“Who’s unconscious?” asked Katara around the frog in her mouth.

“The Blue Spirit! Take those frogs out of your mouths, and let’s go meet him!” Aang sprang to his feet, staff already in hand.

Sokka and Katara were confused. Frogs? What was Aang talking about. They looked at each other. Sokka gagged in horror and spit the frog onto the ground. Katara followed suit.

“AANG!”

Aang looked innocently over his shoulder at them. “Are you guys coming, or what?”

***

Arriving back at the Wani, Zuko brushed off his uncle’s greeting and stormed into his bedroom. He’d failed to capture the Avatar… again. But he hadn’t blown his disguise… wait, could he use that? The gears in his head started turning.

The Avatar thinks the Blue Spirit is an ally… I could use that to get close to him, figure out his plans…

***

“I’m telling you, this is right where I left him! See, here’s the message I wrote!”

“He must have woken up and left,” said Sokka, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

“But why? We could’ve been friends! Why would he have left?” Aang paused as a horrible thought struck him. “Do you think Zhao could’ve found him?”

Sokka shook his head authoritatively. “There aren’t any signs of a struggle,” he told Aang, pointing at two seemingly random patches of undergrowth. Aang sighed in relief, but then immediately heaved a dejected sigh.

“That means he left of his own accord,” he said, shoulders drooping. “He didn’t want to be friends.”

“Maybe we’ll meet up with him somewhere else,” Katara told him, wrapping a comforting arm around his shoulders.

“Maybe!"

Chapter Text

Zuko sat on the floor of his cabin, staring absentmindedly at the blue mask laid out in front of him. Ever since he’d had the idea to use it to track down the Avatar, he’d been consumed by thoughts on the matter: how he should go about it, when he should strike, what potential scenarios he’d need to be prepared for. He traced one of the eyeholes, lost in consideration. He was yanked rudely from his thoughts by a knock on the door.

“Zuko? Are you in there?”

He shoved the mask quickly back into its hiding place under his futon and stood.

“Come in, Uncle.”

Iroh stepped into the room. “I was simply wondering if you would like to join me for a cup of tea.”

Zuko sighed. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Iroh smiled, shutting the door carefully as he left.

***

Halfway across the Earth Kingdom, Aang, Katara, and Sokka walked leisurely along a wide path. The air had the fresh scent that comes after rain, and water still dripped off the trees. Sokka continued to grumble under his breath.

“There’s no way she could’ve predicted it was going to rain… everyone knows fortunetelling is nothing but a scam...”

Aang and Katara ignored him. Aang was deep in thought, staring down at the path in front of him as he walked. He scuffed his foot along the ground, frowning.

“Aang? Are you okay? You’ve seemed kinda… out of it, all day,” said Katara.

“What? I’m fine,” said Aang. He twirled his staff, lost in thought. “I just can’t stop wondering… who was that guy? Why would he save me, and then just leave?”

Katara was silent for a moment. “What did he say to you? Before he got knocked unconscious.”

“Nothing, that’s the thing!” Aang waved his staff in agitation. “If he’d just said something, I might not be so curious! But he was silent the whole time. I don’t even know what his voice sounds like. For all I know, it could’ve been a girl behind that mask!”

“No way,” said Sokka, crossing his arms. “You said he was good with swords, right? And super agile? Girls don’t fit that description.”

Katara glared at him. “I thought Suki had gotten rid of your sexist beliefs, Sokka!”

Sokka shrugged. “Suki’s great with her fan, of course. But it’s a proven fact that men are more dexterous and-“

His words were cut off as his foot caught on a rock, and he fell flat on his face. Aang and Katara burst out laughing. He got to his feet, mud-splattered and indignant. “That doesn’t prove anything!”

Once they’d finished laughing at Sokka, Aang went back to their conversation about the Blue Spirit. “It just doesn’t make sense,” he said, eyes downcast. “It would’ve been so nice to have another friend on our side!”

Katara nodded sympathetically. “Look at the bright side,” she told him. “Even if they didn’t want to travel with us, it’s great to know we’ve got another ally out there! If they cared enough to break into a Fire Nation fortress to rescue you, they must be pretty firmly on our side. And powerful, too, if they managed to get you out without either of you getting hurt! Maybe we’ll run into them again.”

“I hope you’re right,” said Aang, cheering up a bit.

“Now, are you ready to get our fortunes told?” Katara was so excited she was almost bouncing. Sokka groaned theatrically.

***

On the Wani, Zuko sat across from his uncle, staring moodily into his cup of tea. The only sounds were the waves crashing against the hull and the indistinct voices of the crew above deck. After a few minutes, Iroh sighed and leveled a thoughtful gaze at his nephew.

“Zuko, are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Uncle.” Zuko’s voice was edged with annoyance. His uncle looked at him for a long moment.

“Sometimes, a man’s problems gather within him like a storm in a bottle. If the man does not uncork the bottle and let the storm out, the bottle will explode, and people will get hurt. Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

“I don’t need your proverbs, Uncle.”

Iroh took a sip of tea, deciding to let the matter rest.

Suddenly, a commotion on deck rocked the ship. Zuko stood hastily, setting down his cup of tea and hurrying to the upper deck to see what was going on. His eyes widened as he took in the sight before him: a gorgeous woman riding a strange beast, while his crew stood around her, appearing to threaten her. She shouted something about a stowaway.

Indignant, he stepped forward, fists balled at his sides. “There are no stowaways on my ship!”

She ignored him, and he stood to the side in disbelief as she pulled a man out from one of the lower decks.

“How did you find him on my ship?” demanded Zuko, staring at her.

“My shirshu can smell a rat a continent away,” she said, and stampeded off with the man in tow. Zuko watched her go, his uncle at his shoulder.

He blinked as a thought struck him. The Blue Spirit could wait – he had a better idea. “We need to find that woman,” he told his uncle.

***

At the Abbey, it was just past dusk, and the world was quiet. However, the muffled sounds of conversation and laughter could be heard, drifting from a low, brightly lit building. Inside the walls, a fire burned merrily, and warm pelts decorated the floor. By the fire, Bato of the Water Tribe shared sea prunes and stories with Sokka and Katara. In the midst of this joyful gathering, however, Aang sat to one side, staring listlessly at the floor in front of him, desperately unhappy.

Of course, he was thrilled for his friends – they seemed so happy to finally see someone from their tribe. But it was a painful reminder that he would always come in second, after family. Would they even want to stay with him now? Would he have to go to the North Pole alone? He slipped out of the building, walking towards the shore.

Perching on the bow of Bato’s boat, he stared out at sea. Would they really leave me? He truly wasn’t sure. Now, he wished more than ever that the Blue Spirit had stayed with them. He loved Katara and Sokka, but now he realized that he only had two people in the whole world. Without them, he’d be lost.

At least if they left him, they’d be safe from Zuko, he thought humorlessly.

As he stared idly at the waves, he heard someone approaching on an ostrich-horse – some sort of messenger, who said he was looking for Bato. Aang took the message curiously and unrolled it as the man rode away.

The map to Sokka and Katara’s dad! He stared at it for a long, agonized moment, then stuffed it under his shirt. His conscience was screaming at him, but he told himself that it was for the better. Heavy with guilt, he went back inside.

*** (the next day) ***

Aang sat astride Appa, regretting every decision he’d ever made. Why had he hidden that note? Why hadn’t he just trusted his friends? Then he wouldn’t be alone!

He wondered where Blue was (he’d taken to calling him “Blue” in his head), and what he was doing at that moment. Even in his current mental anguish, the mystery consumed him. Why? thought Aang for the millionth time. Why did he leave? Who was he?

A nun came running up to him. “Avatar, you must leave!”

Aang sighed, annoyed. “Okay, I get it. Everyone wants me gone.” I betrayed my best friends. The nuns want me gone. What am I going to do?

“A group of people came to the abbey looking for you.”

“What? Who?”

“A fierce looking woman with a horrible monster, and a young man with a scar.”

“Zuko,” breathed Aang, horror coursing through him. Of course the prince had followed him here. He just loved to catch Aang in his worst moments, didn’t he?

“The beast was using the scent of a necklace to follow you.”

“Katara!” cried Aang, with a horrible flash of realization.

***

Sokka was annoyed. More than annoyed, actually. First Zuko had the nerve to steal his baby sister’s necklace and track them with it, and then he decided to paralyze them with some sort of weird, long-nosed monster? Which they were now riding? On their way to capture Aang? The Angry Jerk had really exceeded himself this time.

“Hnghhhhh,” he grumbled, trying to fight the paralysis that gripped his limbs. Zuko didn’t even spare him a glance. Where was Aang? Wasn’t someone going to rescue them? What about that mysterious Blue Spirit guy Aang kept talking about? Where was he? Did he only rescue Avatars? That wasn’t very fair. What if Aang lost and they all got captured?

Sokka was starting to panic. He grumbled louder. “HNGHHHH.” This time, Zuko actually glanced over, looking annoyed! Sokka counted that as a win. Before he could do it again, he was startled by a loud crash – the shirshu was smashing through a very familiar set of gates. They were back at the abbey, and Aang had to be nearby!

***

Everything was at peace in the abbey. A nun stirred a pot of perfume, while another drew water from a well, while another cooked something over a low stove. It was a warm day, and the birds were singing. Then, three things happened at once.

First, a nun (the same one who had gone to warn Aang) came running back into the abbey. “Get inside!” she cried, waving her arms in alarm.

Second, an almighty crash at the gates, accompanied by the screams of terrified nuns, announced the arrival of an excited shirshu and its passengers. “We must be close!” said June. Zuko leaned forward in anticipation, while Sokka and Katara redoubled their struggles.

Third, the Avatar swooped in on his glider, heading straight for the shirshu.

“There!” shouted Zuko, just as the shirshu reared up on its back legs, and its passengers slid off into an undignified heap on the stones of the courtyard. June was the first to recover, jumping back onto the shirshu, but she was almost immediately knocked back down by a furious Appa.

“Aang!” shouted Katara, still paralyzed.

“Where’s that Blue guy now?!” asked Sokka, with an impressive voice crack.

“How should I know?” shouted Aang from across the courtyard.

None of them noticed the way Zuko’s eyes had gone wide at Sokka’s words. That Blue guy… he couldn’t possibly mean… He couldn’t afford to think about that right now! He got to his feet and faced off with Aang. They began to duel, fire blasts alternating with gusts of air.

***

Zuko was furious. He’d been so close to victory! Instead, he’d gotten paralyzed, and the Avatar had stolen the girl’s necklace back. As soon as they got back to the Wani, he stormed off, demanding to be left alone. His uncle, however, followed him.

“Zuko,” said Iroh, wrinkled hands held out in a gesture of placation.

“I don’t want to talk right now, Uncle.”

“I know. But you must understand, my nephew, that anger will not help you on your journey to capture the Avatar. Anger is a form of inner fire, except that it does not serve to strengthen you, but instead weakens you from within. Hope, on the other hand, is an inner fire that lends you its strength. You are as strong as you are hopeful.”

Zuko stopped, halfway through the door to his threshold. Hope. Perhaps this proverb did have a meaning – he did have one more hope.

“Thank you, Uncle,” he said, tone distant. “That helps.”

He shut the door to his cabin, not noticing the rather surprised expression on his uncle’s face, and dropped to his knees by his futon. He pulled out the mask, settling back to observe it as he considered his options. He may have lost the fight, but it hadn’t been pointless. No, now he knew where the Avatar was! He couldn’t possibly be far from here. Zuko had a plan, and that meant he had hope.

He sat back down to meditate. He’d need all of his strength for tonight.

Chapter Text

It was a quiet night on the Wani: the only sounds were the swish of waves against the hull and the muffled snores of the night watchman, who, careless of his duties, had fallen asleep at his perch.

The watchman was so soundly asleep, in fact, that he did not awaken when a raven-gull flew directly overhead, cawing loudly. Nor did he awaken when a slim figure, clothed entirely in black, slipped out from below deck and began to lower one of the ship’s lifeboats, a small kayak, into the waves below. When the little boat hit the waves with a quiet splash, the watchman stirred, and the snoring stopped.

The figure on deck froze, twisting to regard the watchman.

After a paralyzing moment, the snoring resumed, and the figure relaxed. There was another little splash as the figure stepped into the kayak, having vaulted over the ship’s railing and scrambled down the side. The ropes holding the boat to the ship’s side were quickly untied, and as the ship continued along its course, the little kayak was left behind.

All was silent on the Wani once more.

***

Some hours later, the raven-gull that had cawed over the Wani reached its destination – a forest in the Earth Kingdom, located near a small Fire Nation colony. It landed on a branch adjacent to a winding path to rest, observing its surroundings out of one beady eye.

Voices drifted through the trees, and it cocked its head to one side. Three people emerged from the trees – a teenage girl and two boys. They approached a message board in the middle of a clearing.

“This should give us a good idea of what’s here,” said Katara, scrutinizing the board.

“See if you can find a menu, I’m starving!” said Sokka.

Aang pointed at the poster. “I bet we’ll find something to eat here, the Fire Day’s Festival. Fire Nation cultural exhibits, jugglers, benders, magicians… This would be a great place for me to study some real firebenders!”

“You might want to rethink that,” said Sokka dubiously. “Look at this.”

Aang walked around to the other side of the board. “Hey, a poster of me… and one of Blue!” He pulled both posters off the board and looked between them, amazed. “That’s him, Sokka! The guy who rescued me! He’s real… and wanted by the Fire Nation!”

Katara came over, standing behind Aang to read over his shoulder. “Wanted for high treason,” she read off the poster.

“Wow, nice!” said Sokka. “I like him already.”

Aang was quiet for a long moment. “I just wish I knew where he was,” he said finally, scuffing his foot along the ground.

Sokka slung an arm around his shoulders. “We’ll find him, buddy.”

“Or he’ll find us,” said Katara. “Maybe he just wasn’t ready to join us last time.”

“Okay, you’re right,” said Aang. “Now, are you guys ready to try fire flakes?”

“Wait, what?” said Sokka. “We’re actually going to a festival, in a Fire Nation village? Wanted poster and all?”

***

Zuko was exhausted. Four straight hours of rowing would do that to you. But he had finally – finally – reached his destination. Wanting to remain unseen, he didn’t land his kayak at the town’s small harbor, but instead ventured further up-shore, finding a small, wooded patch of beach. He grounded his kayak, got out, and dragged it further from the water’s edge, concealing it with branches and leaves.

He hesitated. He didn’t want to draw attention to himself, and he knew that both his mask and his scar were too memorable to risk showing. Sighing, he resigned himself to spend the next few hours hidden in the forest, so he could use the cover of darkness to make his next move.

He settled against a tree trunk and tried not to think about what his uncle was going to say. He couldn’t afford to worry about that right now, he had to plan! He was still dubious about whether the plan would work, but the Water Tribe boy had (inadvertently) given him hope.

“Where’s that Blue guy now?” he had asked. That meant that the Avatar (Zuko was determinedly refusing to call him by his real name, even in his head) had told them about the rescue, and so they would believe him to be an ally. Now, all he had to do was to reinforce that conviction, and with luck, he’d be able to use that to bring them down.

***

Back aboard the Wani, everything was not silent. Iroh stormed back and forth on deck, yelling at everyone within earshot, but particularly the watchman. The crew hurried about with downcast faces.

“How could you miss a teenage boy sneaking off the ship?” he asked for about the hundredth time. “He took a kayak, for Agni’s sake!”

The watchman avoided eye contact. “Umm…”

Waving his arms in consternation, Iroh stormed back off below-deck. He picked up his nephew’s note and reread it.

Uncle,

Going on a short trip, will be careful. Sorry for telling you this way.

Zuko

Iroh sighed, rubbing his forehead. Realizing that he was crushing the paper in his grip, he took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax.

Zuko would be fine, he told himself.

***

Zuko was decidedly not fine.

For Agni’s sake , he thought to himself, watching through the slits in his mask as the soldiers below him ransacked his things. He was perched on a tree branch, dark clothing blending in well with the tree’s shadow. A branch poked uncomfortably into his side. He winced as one of the soldiers picked up his swords, waving them experimentally. He’s holding them all wrong!

Zuko put a hand to his thigh. His knife, the one from Uncle, was still safely strapped to his leg, and he breathed a sigh of relief, mentally thanking Mai for teaching him how to conceal it. If only he’d done the same with his dao.

He itched to jump down and attack the soldiers, to force them to give him his things, but he knew it was too risky. He was wearing the mask, so they wouldn’t know his true identity, but he also couldn’t risk the Blue Spirit being spotted by the Fire Nation. There was no guarantee he’d win the fight, anyway, especially without his swords or firebending.

“I don’t think anyone’s nearby,” said one of the soldiers, squinting suspiciously into the undergrowth.

“Back to the village?” grunted another, shoving Zuko’s swords back into his bag and heaving it over his shoulder. “I bet the Admiral will want to see all this.”

Zuko’s eyes widened, and he nearly fell off the tree branch. The Admiral. That could only mean one person. He stared down at the soldiers, his mind spinning furiously.

“Probably. Let’s go,” said the first. The soldiers left the clearing, taking all of Zuko’s supplies, and more importantly, his swords.

Those were Zhao’s soldiers. And they’re taking my things back to… the village? Zuko groaned as he swung down from the tree branch. He’d have to follow them. He stepped out of his clearing, careful not to make a sound, and began his pursuit.

After a few minutes of following the soldiers’ voices, Zuko began to hear other sounds, the sounds of a bustling village. He paused, thinking. He couldn’t exactly stroll through town in his Blue Spirit mask – that would attract stares. And he couldn’t risk recognition, either, so he couldn’t take it off. He’d have to use stealth, instead.

Concealing himself behind a convenient thicket, he surveyed the little village. It appeared to be a small Fire Nation colony, and it looked like they were disassembling the remnants of some sort of party. Perhaps a festival? He had a distant recollection of attending a similar event with his mother and sister many years before, and his heart gave a painful pang. He shook himself. Now was not the time to get caught up in old memories.

The town was small, but to the trained eye, there were ample places to hide. And the Blue Spirit was very good at hiding. He needed to get to the pub – he’d seen the soldiers go in not five minutes before, and, knowing Zhao’s drinking habits, Zuko was willing to bet that he would be there too. And, most conveniently, there was a little alley between the pub and the adjacent house, with a window to the pub cracked open.

Zuko slipped out of his hiding place, glanced around, and quickly crossed the space between himself and the low buildings, hoping against hope that no one would pick that moment to look out a window or come out of one of the houses. A pig-chicken squawked loudly, but no one came to investigate, and he reached his hiding place unseen. Pressing himself against the wall next to the window, he endeavored to hear what was happening inside.

“- we’ve got to talk to him!” The man’s voice was hard to hear over the cacophony inside, and Zuko pressed his good ear up closer to the window, desperate not to miss anything.

“He’s busy! What would you have to say to interest him, anyway?” This voice was female.

“We found something in the forest! An encampment of sorts.”

“You’re bothering the Admiral over someone’s campsite?”

“It’s not just that! We found… contraband. It must’ve been a warrior’s campsite, or something!”

“What did you find?”

“This!” and Zuko recognized the clang of his dao swords tapping against one another. He gritted his teeth. Those were his! That soldier had no right to be touching them. Through the window, he could hear people muttering as they examined the swords.

“Dao swords…”

“They’re so sharp!”

“Who even uses these?”

“The Blue Spirit, that’s who.” Zuko knew that voice. The Admiral. “Those are the Blue Spirit’s swords… where did you find those? Tell me!” Zuko heard the familiar whoosh of firebending, and the panicked voices of the soldiers.

“An-an encampment, sir. In the forest. With this bag.”

“The Blue Spirit is here,” Zhao growled. “And he won’t be escaping me again!”

Zuko’s eyes were wide behind his mask. He’d already blown his cover. He slapped a hand to his forehead, furious with himself, but his hand met wood, reminding him. He hadn’t blown his real cover, not yet. He might’ve blown the Blue Spirit’s cover, or at least lost the element of surprise, but no one – not even Uncle – knew who was under the mask. And he could use that.

Zhao was coming out of the pub. Zuko crept towards the front of the pub, listening intently. Someone was speaking to the Admiral – what were they saying?

“I’m telling you, he was here, sir! The Avatar, in the flesh!”

“So, the Avatar was here, and you let him slip away?”

“Yes, sir, but other than that, the festival went off without a hitch! No fights. Theft was way down!”

“I don’t care about your local crime rates! Which way did they go?” Zuko listened with bated breath.

“They headed into the forest, up the river I suspect.”

“Ready the river boats. We’re going after the Avatar.”

Zuko’s heart was racing. He was going to have an opportunity to enact his plan much, much sooner than he had anticipated.

***

“You will never master firebending if you cannot master your breath, young Avatar,” said Jeong Jeong, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath to demonstrate. “Notice how I have full control over my breath. You must gain this control, or you will not be able to control your flames.”

“Riiiight,” said Aang, looking very dubious. He closed his eyes and tried to mimic his master’s breathing. “Am I doing this right?”

Jeong Jeong watched him breathe for a moment, looking supremely unimpressed. “Better,” he said, not sounding especially sure about it.

Aang stopped controlling his breathing and opened his eyes. “I’m never going to get this, am I,” he said, sounding equal parts sad and resentful. It was not a question. He traced his finger through the sand, staring moodily downwards.

“It takes time and patience,” said Jeong Jeong, looking very impatient indeed.

“I don’t have time!” Aang jumped to his feet with a gust of wind. “People are dying! Because of me! When are you going to show me actual firebending?”

Jeong Jeong stared at him for a long moment, and Aang began to regret his words. Finally, his master stood, going back inside. He paused, glancing over his shoulder. “Practice your breathing,” he told Aang, and vanished inside.

Aang stared after him for a moment and then sat down with a thud, not bothering to cushion his landing with a gust of air. He buried his head in his hands and tried not to think.

“Hey, Aang,” said Katara hesitantly, coming up behind him. “What’s wrong?”

Aang stayed put for a moment before lifting his head and getting slowly to his feet. “Nothing’s wrong. Can we practice waterbending?”

She looked at him, still concerned, but didn’t say anything about it. “Sure, but let’s go downstream a bit.”

They walked in silence for a few minutes before Katara decided to broach the subject. “What happened with Jeong Jeong?” she asked, pushing aside a low-hanging branch.

Aang scuffed his foot along the ground. “He won’t let me firebend,” he said. “What’s the point of learning from a firebending master if you’re not even allowed to firebend? At this point, I’d practically be better off learning from Zuko!”

Katara scoffed a little at this. “You might find it hard to learn firebending tied up on your way to the Fire Nation,” she said, smiling slightly.

Aang laughed. “Good point. Does this look like a good place to practice?”

“Sure,” said Katara, already forming a water whip. Within a few minutes, both of them were soaking wet, and Aang had completely forgotten about his firebending struggles.

***

Aboard the riverboats, everything was in chaos. Soldiers and crewmen ran this way and that, boxes were loaded and unloaded, and the boats were readied for departure at a very unsafe pace. In the middle of it all stood the admiral himself, yelling himself hoarse and looking very much like an offended peacock-ostrich.

In a copse of trees less than a mile away from this chaotic scene, there was a very different one. The moon shone through the trees, creating a mesmerizing pattern as the branches swayed in the breeze, and the rustle of a cat-owl’s wings could be heard through the near-silence. In a little clearing, the dark lines of trees stood out against a backdrop of moonlight, slicing the light into narrow strips. The pattern was broken, however, by the silhouette of a cloaked figure, standing unnervingly still in the center of the clearing.

The figure appeared to be faceless, and an intelligent onlooker might have concluded that it was nothing more than an oddly shaped tree stump. Then, however, the figure shifted, turned slightly, and its face was thrown into sharp relief by the moonlight glinting off its features. The onlooker might have stumbled back, then, or even fled the clearing in terror, for the figure’s face was not that of a person. No, it was the demonic grin of a spirit, moonlight glinting off of bared teeth.

With only the slightest rustle of grass, the figure left the clearing, moving catlike through the trees before vanishing over the hillside.

Back on the admiral’s riverboats, things were still in chaos, but the admiral himself had retreated below-deck on one of the boats, where he stood before a desk and stared at what was laid out before him. He reached out and traced one gleaming blade with a finger, an expression of disgust twisting his features.

“I’ll catch you this time, spirit,” he muttered to himself, brows drawn down into an expression of fury. “Right alongside the Avatar. Neither of you will be escaping me again.”

***

Zuko stood on the river’s shore, just a few hundred feet down from the boats, eyes narrowed behind his mask. He surveyed Zhao’s ship, considering how best to board without detection. Coming to a decision, he began to move along the shore, keeping close to the brush and scanning his surroundings for signs of Zhao’s men. After a few tense moments, in which the rustle of a skunk-rabbit in the bushes mimicked the footsteps of a soldier, or the sound of the wind blowing through the treetops reminded him of the whoosh of a firebender’s attack, he deemed himself close enough, and darted out from his position next to the brush. Within a matter of seconds, he’d crossed the expanse of sand and, bracing himself for the chill, dove into the water without so much as a splash.

Once he’d paddled far enough out from shore, he raised his head above the water to get his bearings. The boats weren’t far off – he could see light glinting off their sides and hear the distant voices of the men – but it would still be a difficult swim, upstream, without coming up for air. Taking a few deep breaths and ensuring that his mask was still tied tightly around his head, Zuko dove under the surface of the water and began to swim.

After what felt like a millennium, he could hear the voices of the men much more clearly, and he decided he was close enough to risk coming above water again. Careful to keep himself as far submerged as possible, he lifted his head and took a gasping breath of air before looking around again. He was very close now – no more than twenty feet away – and from here he could see the rungs on the side of the nearest boat, standard for all Fire Navy vessels. Taking another deep breath, he ducked underwater once more, and swam along until he felt his shoulder brush the side of the boat, then continued until he reached the cool metal of the ladder. Glancing upwards, he hauled himself partway out of the water, clinging tightly to the ladder. He scrambled up a few rungs, listening carefully to the voices above him. Finally, there were no more voices or footsteps, and he decided to risk climbing a little higher. Glancing over the railing, he ascertained that the deck was deserted, and he clambered quickly aboard, concealing himself behind several sacks of rice. He could only hope that he’d be able to find his swords and supplies, but for right now, the Blue Spirit was on his way to find the Avatar.

***

Aang was furious with himself. He’d burned Katara. He remembered the pained look in her eyes, and he despised himself. He couldn’t think about that right now, though! He had to focus on winning this fight.

“Let’s find out what my old master has taught you,” said the admiral, already lighting fires in his palms.

Aang’s jaw dropped. “You were Jeong Jeong’s student?”

“Until I got bored,” said Zhao superciliously. Aang ducked his fireball. This wouldn’t be so hard… all he had to do was dodge, right? But he had to get rid of Zhao somehow, so they could escape. Zhao kept taunting him, and he continued to dodge. This could go on forever!

Twisting out of the way of yet another fireball, he pulled a wave of water up from the river, sending it at Zhao, who stumbled to one side, soaking wet. His brows drew together, and he sent an especially vicious fireball at his opponent. Aang shifted to one side, but then he saw movement on the ship behind Zhao – a figure, dressed all in black, sprinting across the deck. Familiar, somehow… Aang turned back to the admiral, just in time to dodge a tendril of flame, mind spinning. Did he imagine it? Was it one of Zhao’s soldiers? Or was it really him, the Blue Spirit, here to help Aang fight off Zhao once more?

In his distraction, Aang didn’t notice the wall of flame rolling towards him until it was too late. Frantic, he summoned a gust of wind to propel himself out of the way – but it wasn’t going to be fast enough – he stumbled backward – and then a hand came out of nowhere, grabbing his collar and yanking him out of the flame’s path not a second too soon.

Aang looked up at his rescuer, and his face shifted into a huge grin. “Blue! You’re here!”

Blue moved away, raising his swords as he faced Zhao.

“You!” snarled the admiral, face twisting. He sent a fireball at the Blue Spirit, but before it reached him, Aang was there with a gust of wind, defending his ally. Together, they drove Zhao back, and then an idea occurred to Aang.

“Stop fighting him,” he told Blue.

Blue stared at him, nonplussed.

“We can get him to burn his ships to ashes if we just dodge all his hits,” said Aang conspiratorially. “He’s got no control.”

Blue hesitated. It actually wasn’t a bad idea. The Avatar wasn’t wrong – Zhao had less control than Azula had possessed at four. He nodded in acquiescence, lowering his swords, and together, they stepped back. Aang stopped his wind gusts and water waves. Zhao seemed to take this as a sign of victory, and redoubled his firebending, while the two of them dodged and ducked.

“What’s this,” the admiral shouted, “had enough?”

The two of them glanced around. All of the boats were in flames, but both of them were completely uninjured.

“I think your boats have had enough,” said Aang.

Zhao stopped to look at what he’d done, and his jaw fell open. Aang grabbed Blue by the waist (Blue yelped in protest) and the two of them took off.

“Get back here!” screamed the admiral, face red. He released a barrage of insults so vulgar that even Zuko, who had spent three years in the company of sailors, was rather impressed.

Immune to Zhao’s fury, Aang touched down on the far shore, and Blue quickly extricated himself from his grasp.

Aang’s face split into a wide grin. “I can’t believe you’re here!” he told Blue excitedly. “You came to help! You’re going to stay with us this time, right?”

Blue took a step back. He hadn’t prepared for this. He couldn’t speak, his voice might give him away! He’d have to feign muteness, then…

He spotted a branch in the sand and picked it up. He scratched a few characters in the sand.

I’ve got to go. I’m sorry.

Aang read his writing, and his smile vanished. “Oh, okay,” he said morosely. “How come?”

I have places to be, Blue wrote.

“Okay,” said Aang, dragging his toe through the sand in thought. “Do you at least want a ride on our bison? We can take you wherever you need to go!”

Zuko nearly refused, but then hesitated. He didn’t know how he was going to get back to the Wani (he could hear his uncle’s voice in his head, chastising him for never having a plan). He could use this.

Okay, he told Aang. Can you take me to Enkoshi, please? It’s a Fire Nation colony directly north of here. I need to meet someone there.

The Wani would be stopping at Enkoshi for supplies, sometime in the next few days. If he took the Avatar’s bison, he’d be sure to get there before the ship.

“Of course!” said Aang.

A voice came from across the beach. “Aang, come on, let’s go!” Zuko twisted so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash, one hand going to the swords strapped on his back. It was the Water Tribe boy, sitting atop their bison.

“Coming, Sokka,” shouted Aang, and grabbed Blue again. Blue made another sound of protest, but just seconds later they landed on the bison, and he pulled himself upright and away from the Avatar.

Aang, oblivious to his companion’s discomfort, settled down cross-legged on the saddle. “Yip yip!” he said, and they were in the air. Blue’s hand shot to the side of the saddle, and he gripped it tightly, terrified. Riding the bison was frightening, slightly nauseating, and… amazing. The wind whipped at his mask, and his hands went reflexively to the straps holding it on, checking them for tightness.

“Guys, meet Blue!” said Aang excitedly. Blue shifted backwards self-consciously, back meeting the edge of the saddle, and gave an awkward wave. How was he supposed to greet them, his enemies, who believed him to be a friend? Also, for Agni’s sake, why were they so trusting? Were they trying to get themselves killed?

“I’m so glad you decided to join us!” said Katara, eyes shining as she took in their new ally.

“We-ell,” said Aang, “he can’t join us right now, unfortunately. We’re just dropping him off in Enkoshi. Speaking of which, this is north, right?”

“Yes,” said Sokka.

“No,” said Katara, at the same moment.

Sokka looked around, then down at his map, then around again. “Oh,” he said. “Oops.” He tugged on the reins, turning Appa ninety degrees.

Blue dropped his head onto his knees. These were the kids he was supposed to be capturing?

“So Blue,” said Sokka, “tell us about yourself! How’d you get into, you know, a life of fighting evil Fire Nation jerks? Congrats on the high treason, by the way!”

Blue winced. He’d forgotten about the high treason.

“I think he’s mute, and I don’t have anything to write with,” said Aang apologetically. “Maybe keep it to yes/no questions?”

Sokka nodded and thought for a moment. “Do you ever take off that mask?”

Blue shook his head.

“Are you horribly disfigured underneath, or something?”

“Sokka!”

“What?”

Blue hesitated for a long moment, then nodded.

“Is that why you’re mute?”

Again, Blue hesitated before nodding. That’s a good cover story, he realized. And at least partly true...

“Was it the Fire Nation’s fault? Is that why you fight them now?”

Blue nodded, after a moment’s pause. He may as well stick with his cover story.

“Okay,” said Sokka. He seemed to be thinking up another question, but before he got there, Katara cut in.

“That’s plenty of questions, Sokka, he’s probably exhausted,” she told him, looking at Blue with a rather motherly expression on her face.

Blue hadn’t realized it before, but she was right. He was exhausted. Leaning against the edge of the saddle, he felt his eyes slip shut, and the rest of the conversation was lost to him.

***

The group had been flying for nearly an hour when Sokka broke the silence.

“Aang, you never told us what happened with Zhao!”

“Oh!” said Aang, brightening. “It was great! I was fighting him, and then Blue showed up and pulled me out of the way of a wall of fire! And then we fought him for a little bit, but we realized he didn’t have any control over his firebending, so we got him to set his own boats on fire, and then flew out of there.”

“He set his own boats on fire? Oh, that’s great,” Sokka said, wiping tears of laughter out of his eyes.

Katara smiled too, but then turned to Aang. “Do you know why Blue isn’t sticking around? Who’s he meeting in Enkoshi?”

Aang shrugged. “Friend of his?”

“It’s a little weird that he won’t take that mask off, isn’t it?” said Sokka, narrowing his eyes at the figure asleep on the other side of the saddle.

“Live and let live, right?” said Aang, shrugging again. “He helped us, and he’s a traitor to the Fire Nation, so he’s got to be a friend.”

“O-kay,” said Sokka, leaning back against the edge of the saddle. “How much longer till Enkoshi, anyways?”

Katara looked at him, irritated. “You’re supposed to be the map guy, you tell me.”

Aang yawned pointedly. “Sokka, you take the reins. I’m following Blue’s lead,” he said, getting to his feet with a gust of air.

Sokka heaved a long-suffering sigh and took Aang’s place. Aang collapsed against the side of the saddle, only a few feet away from Blue, and Katara did the same on Appa’s opposite side.

And so they were a few short hours later, when Sokka shouted a wake-up call to the rest of the group, announcing their arrival in Enkoshi. Aang slept peacefully on, but Katara and Blue both awoke almost instantly – Katara gently, Blue not so much. In fact, he leapt to his feet, shifting reflexively into a defensive stance, before spotting Katara staring at him from the other side of the saddle. Clearly still groggy from sleep, he whipped out his swords, brandishing them at her.

“What are you doing?” demanded Katara indignantly, pressing herself against the side of the saddle. Blue seemed to realize where he was, one hand going to his mask. He visibly breathed a sigh of relief, strapping his swords onto his back and holding his hands up in a mute apology.

Katara eyed him in suspicion for a moment. “Well, we’re almost at Enkoshi,” she told him. “Where do you want us to drop you off?”

Blue stood there for a moment, looking as though he’d been caught off-guard, before pointing at his mouth.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” she said, hand going to her mouth. “I completely forgot.”

Blue smiled at her, before realizing that didn’t work with, you know, a mask on. He nodded instead, figuring that’d suffice.

Katara’s brows came together in thought, and she bit her lip. “They’re got to be a way you can write,” she said, tapping her hand against the saddle. “Ooh, I know! You can just trace the characters in Appa’s fur!”

Blue was skeptical, but he figured it was worth a shot. He moved to the edge of the saddle, finding a clear area to write.

You can just drop me off a bit outside the town , he wrote, smoothing the fur back down after each character.

Katara nodded and relayed the instructions to Sokka, who steered Appa in the right direction. Katara moved over to Aang, shaking his shoulder gently. “We’re almost to Enkoshi!”

Aang sat up, rubbing his eyes. “Really?” he asked, looking suddenly despondent. “You’re leaving so soon,” he said to Blue, making puppy-dog eyes at the older boy.

Blue shrugged noncommittally.

Aang sighed. “We’re here!” said Sokka brightly, and they landed with a thump. Glancing around to make sure he had all of his things, Blue jumped down from the saddle, looking up at the others. He waved at them in farewell and vanished into the trees.

***

Zuko was overwhelmingly glad that he’d accepted Aang’s – no, the Avatar’s – offer of a ride to Enkoshi. By the time he got there, the Wani was already preparing to leave. Having changed from his Blue Spirit get-up back into his Fire Prince regalia (and pushed down the inexplicable feeling of wrongness, changing from the silent, almost honorable Blue Spirit to the loud, angry, and distinctly honorless prince), he walked into town with his hood pulled up. Reaching the little harbor a few minutes later, he was horrified to see his ship already pulling up its gangplank. He broke into a run, shouting at the crew to wait, hoping against hope his uncle wasn’t already on deck (he needed a moment to recover himself before he could face that).

Spotting him, the crew started to lower the gangplank again, and Zuko hurried up it, head down. When he reached the top, he came face to face with his uncle, who looked furious.

When Iroh spoke, his voice was impressively calm.

“Where have you been, Prince Zuko?” he asked, hands clasped in front of him.

Zuko avoided his eyes. “I was… busy,” he told his uncle, trying to shuffle past.

Iroh shot out a lightning-fast hand and caught Zuko by the arm.

“Where were you, nephew?” he asked again, his tone a little sharper this time.

Zuko hesitated. “In a forest? And then Zhao’s boat? And then the Avatar’s bison?” (Good, he thought to himself, I didn’t say Aang).

Iroh stared at him. He’d seen and heard many strange things in his day, but… what? “Are you delirious?” he asked Zuko, concerned.

“No,” said Zuko sullenly. “Can I go back to sleep now? Please?”

Iroh looked at him, still very worried. “Get some rest,” he told Zuko, releasing him.

Zuko went back to his quarters, but he didn’t fall asleep for a long time. His mind was running at the speed of light.

It had worked , he told himself again and again. So few of his plans worked, but this one had. He hadn’t captured Aang – no, the Avatar – but he had built his trust, and earned the trust of the Watertribe siblings as well. That was a serious win. Even though that moment where he’d pointed his sword at the girl… well, not his best moment. But still! He’d given himself a cover story, fit himself in with their group… Aang had even wanted him to stay with them! The kid was insanely trusting – it almost made Zuko feel bad for taking advantage of him. He pushed that thought away.

The point was, his plan was working. He lay back against his pillows and promptly fell asleep. It was the best sleep he’d had in months.

Chapter Text

“So, nephew,” said Iroh, pouring Zuko a cup of tea, “are you going to tell me where you were?”

Zuko pulled his cup towards him, wrapping his hands around it and staring into it moodily. “I already told you, Uncle.”

Iroh raised his eyebrows, looking perplexed. “I think you were delirious,” he said to Zuko, worried.

“I wasn’t.” Zuko looked up and met his uncle’s gaze. “Does it matter?”

“Yes,” said Iroh, a trace of frustration creeping into his tone. “I think it matters when you vanish for three days without telling anyone where you’re going!”

Zuko looked uncomfortable. “I’m sorry for making you worry,” he said stiffly, looking back down at his tea.

Iroh sighed deeply. “Nephew, your own safety is far more important than your mission. Capturing the Avatar does not matter if you die trying!”

Zuko frowned, staring into his tea as though it had personally wronged him. He lifted it to his lips and downed it in one. Slamming the cup down, he stared at the table, brows drawn tightly together. “Nothing matters more than capturing the Avatar, Uncle! Without that, I have no honor!”

A tendril of steam drifted up from Iroh’s cup, and there was a long moment of silence. “Your father is not the only one qualified to give you your honor, Prince Zuko,” he said slowly. “You must think about what it is you truly want, if you wish to be happy.”

“I want my honor back,” said Zuko bluntly, getting to his feet. “Thank you for the tea.”

As Zuko walked back to his own quarters, Iroh stared after him, still confused. What had Zuko meant, when he had said he’d been on the Avatar’s bison? He couldn’t have been serious?

Iroh took a long draught of tea.

***

Zuko had been in his cabin when Zhao had come aboard. He’d been standing right there when Zhao had announced that he was taking Zuko’s crew. And he’d been not ten feet away when Zhao had looked at the wall, when he'd seen what had to be incontrovertible evidence.

Zuko sat down on his futon and buried his head in his hands. Zhao knew. There was no way he hadn’t recognized those swords… how could Zuko have been so stupid, hanging them on his wall?

What was he going to do? Without his crew, his chances of catching the Avatar dropped to roughly zero. Plus, if Zhao figured out that he was the Blue Spirit… Well, if that happened, then all he could hope was that Zhao would kill him rather than tell his father.

Zuko gripped his face in his hands.

He had to know what Zhao was planning. He sat up straighter, good eye narrowing as a plan began to form.

***

“I’m just going into town for a few minutes,” said Zuko, his good eye wide and pleading. “You really don’t need to come with me.”

Iroh crossed his arms. “The last time you left, you didn’t come back for three days!”

Zuko sighed. “I’ll be back quickly this time.”

Iroh sighed, defeated. “Be careful, nephew.”

Zuko nodded earnestly. Grabbing his bag, he headed off the ship and into town, mind set on his purpose.

***

A greasy voice cut through the evening air. “You all seem highly qualified for the mission I have in mind.”

Zuko frowned under his mask, creeping closer. What mission? Was he going to capture the Avatar?

“That’s some tasty gold,” said the pirate, biting down on a piece from the chest.

Zuko could imagine Zhao’s smirk.

“What do you need us to do?” asked another voice.

“I believe you’re acquainted with Prince Zuko,” said Zhao.

Zuko stiffened, hands clenching by his sides. So he knew. He strained his ears; he couldn’t miss this.

“Yes,” grunted one of the pirates.

“Horrible brat,” said another, fiddling idly with one of the gold pieces, and Zuko scowled. Surely he hadn’t made that bad of an impression?

He shook himself. These were pirates, why was he trying to impress them?

He tuned back into the conversation. “I couldn’t agree more,” said Zhao. “Wouldn’t it be a… terrible shame… if some tragedy were to befall him? I hear explosions are all too common on ships these days.”

The pirates were silent for a moment. “You want us to kill the prince?” asked the captain, glancing at his men.

“Make it look like an accident.”

***

Zuko slammed open the door to the ship’s cabin. He was out of breath, having changed out of his Blue Spirit get-up at top speed and sprinted back to the ship.

“Uncle,” he said without preamble, “Zhao is going to blow up the Wani.”

Iroh stared at him. “What?”

***

They’d gotten most of their things together – Zuko had his clothes, his mask, and his swords in his bag, plus his dagger strapped to his thigh. Iroh had his clothes, an assortment of food, and a truly impressive collection of tea paraphernalia.

“Do you really need twenty-one types of tea?” asked Zuko.

“It’s less than a third of my collection!” bemoaned Iroh, looking anxiously into his bag. “Do you think I should’ve brought the pu’erh?”

Zuko sighed.

“Well, in any case,” said Iroh, perking up, “we-”

Boom.

Whatever he’d been trying to say was cut off by an explosion so loud that Zuko clapped his hands to his ears, wincing.

From their spot in the forest alongside the shore, Zuko could see a plume of smoke, arising from where the Wani had been.

“There goes the pu’erh,” said Iroh dejectedly. “Now, are you going to tell me how you knew that was going to happen?”

“I… overheard… some people talking?”

Iroh looked at him, unimpressed.

“Who?”

Zuko dragged his hand across his forehead. “Admiral Zhao.”

His uncle nodded, not looking especially surprised.

“May I ask how you overheard this?”

“…”

“Well, for now it is enough that you did,” said Iroh, sagely. “Now, I think it is time that I had a friendly chat with the admiral.”

Zuko stared at his uncle, nonplussed.

***

“Are you sure this is going to work?” asked the man in the helmet.

“Yes, of course,” said the old general.

The man pulled his helmet off, revealing not a battle-hardened soldier, but a scarred teenager. “What if someone notices?”

“They won’t,” said Iroh confidently. “Just stay out of Zhao’s way, and don’t take off your helmet.”

Zuko put his helmet back on. “Okay. And you’ll come down to give me updates, right?”

“Of course.”

“You don’t have to do this, you know.”

“No nephew of mine is going to stow away on a ship without backup,” said Iroh, smiling a little.

“Thank you, Uncle.”

***

Zuko was never going to forgive his uncle.

“So, what’s your name? You said you’re from the colonies?” the man asked, evidently excited to make a new friend.

“Yes,” said Zuko roughly, choosing to ignore the first question. Thankfully, the man didn’t seem to notice, and plowed on.

“What’s it like there?”

“Umm,” said Zuko eloquently, “it’s nice. Kinda cold in the winter, though.”

The soldier shook his head in wonder.

“I’ve always wanted to travel the world.”

“Yeah…”

“So where else have you been? What base did you go to when you were drafted?”

Zuko’s palms were sweaty. What bases did new recruits go to? He was the prince, how did he not know this?

“…Pohuai.”

The soldier’s brows creased behind his helmet, and Zuko tensed, sure that he’d blown his cover. “Pohuai Stronghold? I didn’t know they took recruits!”

“Um…” said Zuko, but the man was plowing on.

“That’s so cool! Oh, Agni, did you meet the Yuyan archers?”

“Uh… I didn’t meet them in person. I saw them, though,” said Zuko. And got shot in the head by them.

“They were totally my idols growing up! What did their bows look like? I need all the details!”

Zuko mentally cursed. This guy was chattier than the Avatar’s warrior friend.

“I’m sorry, I have to go,” he lied.

“Aww,” said the other man. Zuko was pretty sure he was pouting behind his helmet. “Tell me all about it later?”

“…Sure.”

Thanking whatever spirits had let him walk away from that conversation intact (reading plays really couldn’t prepare you for ordinary human interaction), he walked straight into someone else.

“Uncle!” he hissed, checking the hallway for witnesses. It was deserted, except for the two of them.

“I’ve been looking for you,” said Iroh. “We’re landing soon. Do you have a plan?”

Zuko rubbed at his helmet. “I’m… working on it.”

“I can’t stay long, Zhao might suspect,” said Iroh. “I’ll be back when it’s safe for you to leave.”

“Thank you,” said Zuko. “I’ll get ready.”

Iroh turned, walking back up the corridor, and Zuko headed in the opposite direction, mental gears spinning. He needed to pack… to plan… to prepare… he scrubbed his hand across his forehead, nervous. This was his one chance! He couldn’t screw it up.

Slipping into the deserted cargo hold, he pulled out his bag from where he’d stored it and began rummaging through his things. Mask… swords… white clothes to blend in with the snow and ice, plus black in case he needed to switch identities without raising suspicion.

He changed into the white clothes, put the mask and black clothes in his bag, and strapped his swords to his back. Stomach alight with nerves, he sat down to wait for his uncle.

Less than an hour later, he was paddling a little boat, prepared to invade the North Pole.

***

It was ethereal in the spirit world. The lights kept shifting and coming together, and everything seemed suffused in the same strange glow. There was a quiet buzz to the air. On a hill, one spirit meditated, humming – aggressively? – and by the side of a little stream, a boy held a conversation with a reflection in the water.

“Not the slightest expression, or he will steal your face,” said Roku, more serious than ever. Aang nodded, an uncharacteristically sober expression on his face.

“I understand,” he told the older Avatar, before hesitating. Roku started to fade back into the water.

“Wait!” said Aang, holding his hands up. Roku’s image came back into focus. “What… what do you know about the Blue Spirit?”

Roku’s brow creased. “Why do you ask?”

“There’s a man that keeps helping us,” Aang told him. “He wears the mask of the Blue Spirit. I remember the monks mentioning the Blue Spirit, but no details.”

“He’s best known as a character in a play,” said Roku. “Love Amongst the Dragons, very popular in the Fire Nation. That’s probably where your helper got his mask. But the Blue Spirit is also a real spirit, a lesser known one.”

“Really? What do you know about him?”

“He tends to represent conflict,” said Roku, frowning. “Duality, like water and fire. Two sides of the same coin. In the retellings of ancient wars, the turning point of the conflict is often symbolized by the Blue Spirit. When the Blue Spirit picks a side, it represents the spirits choosing the victor.”

“That’s great!” exclaimed Aang. “Since he’s on our side, does that mean we’re going to win the war?”

“Simply because he wears the mask of a popular character, does not mean he represents the actual Blue Spirit,” said Roku hesitantly. “But if he does, then you should not be so confident that he is truly on your side. The Blue Spirit is fickle; he switches sides like a spy switches disguises, picking whichever serves him best at the time.”

“But he’s only ever helped us!”

Roku met Aang’s eyes, expression serious. “That may be true. But be careful, young Avatar. You cannot choose your friends too wisely.”

***

Zuko breathed on his hands, trying to warm them up. He was so stupid, getting himself caught in this situation. He sat against the wall of the cave, considering his options. He could switch into his Blue Spirit disguise now, take Aang back to the Spirit Oasis and claim to have saved him. But then, would they make it back safely in this kind of weather? He wasn’t sure, and he didn’t think it was worth the risk. Maybe if he changed into his Blue Spirit disguise now, and then just waited for Aang – no, the Avatar – to wake up?

Aang’s tattoos stopped glowing, and Zuko cursed at himself. Stupid, stupid. He was out of time.

He watched apprehensively as Aang seemed to realize where he was, mentally shifting into the villain mindset he’d learned from his plays.

“Welcome back,” he said, sneering unpleasantly.

***

Katara really wasn’t sure how to feel. On one hand, she was glad they’d rescued Zuko. Even if he was evil and a terrible person (he was), he was also only a teenager, and she would have felt guilty if they had left him to die in the snow. On the other hand, all of her instincts, honed from their time on the run (from Zuko) were screaming at her. Sokka had wrapped the same ropes he’d used to tie up Aang around him (take that for karma!) and he was clearly unconscious, but she’d underestimated him before, and she wasn’t about to do it again.

“Think we should look through his bag?” asked Sokka, lifting it experimentally. “It’s not too heavy.”

“We don’t have time!” shouted Aang from his perch on Appa’s head. “We’re almost to the Spirit Oasis, and Zhao might be there already!”

“Fine, fine,” said Sokka, raising his hands into the air. “Guess we’ll never see the Angry Jerk’s Avatar-catching paraphernalia.”

***

“-destiny, to destroy the moon and the Water Tribe.”

What? Zuko awoke to a violent pounding in his temples and the sound of Zhao’s voice. He groaned and tried to sit up. Where am I?

There were ropes around his torso, holding his arms close to his sides. He remembered the cave, Aang (no, the Avatar) waking up, sending fire at the waterbender… that was it. He grimaced. He must’ve lost, badly. And now he was tied up in their bison’s saddle. The Avatar’s group must have climbed down – he could hear their voices drifting up, along with Zhao’s, and… was that Uncle?

Squirming against the ropes wasn’t doing him any good. His dagger was strapped to his thigh – he could use that to cut them – but could he reach it? He struggled some more, and finally managed to get his hand around the hilt of his dagger. He maneuvered it up and against the ropes, sawing awkwardly back and forth.

After a few long moments, he’d cut himself free. He sat up, looking frantically over the edge of the saddle. Below, he could see the Avatar’s group, a blond girl he didn’t recognize, Zhao, and his uncle. His eyes narrowed as he considered his options, and as he came to a decision, he vaulted over the edge of the saddle and slipped out of the oasis.

Shivering in the freezing air, Zuko opened his bag and looked inside. His things were undisturbed. Thanking Agni for small mercies, he began to pull the black clothing over the white. He tied the mask over his face, unsheathed his swords, and ran back into the oasis.

Aang was the first to spot him. “Blue!” he shouted, face lighting up. The Water Tribe siblings spun, shocked, and the blond girl looked on in polite confusion. They only had a moment to stare, however, before the world went grey.

As the group gasped in confusion and horror, Zuko stared past them, watching as Zhao stepped back from the edge of the water. His palm was still smoking. The world had faded horribly, and as he glanced upward, Zuko realized what had happened. The moon… it was gone, he realized with a swell of nausea.

His uncle was the first to react, lashing out at Zhao’s soldiers with a series of short, well-aimed fire blasts. Ever the coward, Zhao ran from the oasis, and Zuko felt anger cloud his senses.

He sprinted after Zhao, gripping his swords, and he thought he heard the Avatar’s warrior friend call out encouragement as he did so.

The rest was lost to him as he made it out of the oasis and faced off with Zhao.

“You,” spat Zhao, furious and confused. “I thought I killed you!”

Zuko attacked.

***

In contrast to the battle taking place outside, the scene within the oasis was quiet and somber.

“I have to do this,” said Yue gently, pale blue eyes meeting Sokka’s pained ones.

They watched in tearful silence as she reached out to the dead koi fish, shutting her eyes as the spirit left her body.

“No!” The word slipped from Sokka’s mouth almost unintentionally. “She’s gone,” he said, voice numb. “She’s gone.”

In the sky, the moon returned to its rightful position, bathing the oasis in a soft glow, and outside, Zhao paused to glance upwards.

“It can’t be!” he said, voice full of disbelief. Zuko advanced, swinging his swords menacingly.

“Can’t it?” he asked the admiral mockingly, secretly pleased to see the moon’s return. It had felt so wrong with it gone.

Zhao froze, recognition dawning in his eyes. “Prince Zuko,” he asked in a half-whisper, fury beginning to distort his features. Zuko mentally cursed. No, no, no! Why had he spoken, given himself away like that?

Before he could attempt to fool the admiral, a glowing tendril of water arose from the ocean beneath the bridge on which they stood. It grasped for Zhao, who stumbled out of the way at first, only to be grabbed and swept up into the air.

Zuko’s eyes went wide behind his mask, and he ran towards Zhao. No one deserved to die like that. “Take my hand,” he called desperately, not even caring that the admiral would recognize his voice.

For a moment, Zhao stared at him for a moment, but then pulled his hand back in a clear refusal. Zuko watched as he was pulled under the surface of the water, barely believing his eyes, and then stumbled backwards on the icy bridge. His heart pounded in his chest, and he struggled to catch his breath, not sure why he was out of breath in the first place.

After a moment, his situation struck him. He was alone in a city of people who hated him, or at least hated who he was behind his mask. He needed to leave before they regathered, while their city was still in shambles.

Before he even made it off the bridge, however, he ran straight into someone, and didn’t even get a chance to see their face before he was pulled into a tight hug.

Uncle? he thought to himself, panicked brain trying to make sense of what was happening.

A bright and distinctly female voice sounded into his right ear. “Blue! We’re so glad you’re here!”

At the sound of the voice, Zuko stiffened and tried desperately to pull away. The waterbender. He was hugging the Avatar’s waterbender friend. There was so much wrong with this situation, but before he could even attempt to figure it out, someone else was bounding up to them.

“Blue!” said the Avatar’s warrior friend excitedly, slapping him on the shoulder, and Zuko was reminded uncomfortably of the overly friendly soldier from Zhao’s ship.

Pulling away from them both, Zuko stumbled backwards, hands reflexively going to check that his mask hadn’t come loose in the waterbender’s enthusiastic hug.

Before he could scratch in the ice that he was leaving, or even just sprint off the bridge and not look back, yet another force collided with him, this time from behind.

“Blue!” shouted the most excited voice as of yet, and Zuko turned to see the source of all of his problems bouncing up and down energetically. “What’s up? How come you’re in the North Pole?”

The warrior’s brow furrowed. “Yeah,” he said slowly, “how come you’re in the North Pole? Are you stalking us?”

Zuko had never been more thankful for his mask. He shook his head vigorously.

“Hmm,” said Sokka, looking unconvinced.

“Oh come on, Sokka,” said Katara, rolling her eyes. “He’s on our side.”

Sokka looked slightly mollified, but it was Aang’s turn to look hesitant. “Wait, you guys. There are some things Roku told me that you should hear.”

Chapter Text

Zuko crossed his arms in frustration as he leaned against the icy wall. They’d sent him away because the Avatar had something “important” and “confidential” to tell the Water Tribe siblings, and evidently the Blue Spirit wasn’t trustworthy enough to confide in.

He huffed. At this rate, how was he supposed to get in on their plans? Wasn’t that the whole point of the Blue Spirit guise in the first place?

He watched the sun creep towards the horizon as he waited, thoughts turning to other things. Where was Uncle? Ever since the battle in the oasis, he hadn’t seen him, and Zuko was terrified that he’d been swept up by the Ocean Spirit. He dragged the toe of his boot across the ice, wondering what to do.

Before he could come to a conclusion, Aang ran down from the bridge and stopped in front of Zuko.

“We’re done talking!” he said brightly, and grabbed him by the arm.

Zuko went along reluctantly, allowing the Avatar to drag him over to the Water Tribe siblings, and self-consciously checked that his mask was in place.

“Why do you keep doing that?” asked the Water Tribe boy, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at Zuko. “Are you worried your mask is going to slip?”

Zuko nodded nervously.

“Why does it matter so much?”

Zuko shifted uncomfortably, thankful for his pretense of muteness.

“Sokka,” said the girl in clear exasperation, “he can’t answer you.”

Sokka made a humph noise and folded his arms across his chest. “Just seems a little shady to me.”

Katara darted a harried look at Aang, and Zuko’s brow creased. Why the sudden lack of trust?

Aang seemed to notice his discomfort. “It’s okay!” he said, wrapping an arm around Zuko’s shoulder, though since Zuko was so much taller, it was more like an arm around his back. Zuko tensed at the sudden contact but forced himself to relax after a moment, not wanting to arouse suspicion. “We trust you,” he told Zuko with a cheesy grin.

Zuko tensed again at that. No, he thought to himself, though this was exactly what he had wanted. They shouldn’t trust me!

He didn’t reveal his mixed feelings to Aang, instead giving him an awkward thumbs-up.

Aang returned the thumbs-up with great enthusiasm, and Sokka snorted.

“Okay, so what next?” asked Aang, bouncing on the tips of his toes. “We defeated the Fire Nation, hurrah! Now what?”

“Pakku is going to the South Pole,” said Sokka. “I heard him mention it to one of the warriors early. They’re going to help rebuild!”

Katara perked up at the news. “That’s great! Do you think he’ll see Gran-Gran again? Oh my gosh, that’s so romantic!”

At the mention of romance, Sokka’s expression morphed to sadness, and there was a long pause where everyone stared at the ground.

“So…” said Aang. “Are we going with Pakku?”

Katara stared at the ground, considering. “We could take his ship south for a bit, and then get off at the Earth Kingdom? You still need to learn earth-bending.”

Aang and Sokka nodded in agreement, and all three looked at Zuko, who stepped back nervously at the sudden attention.

“Do you want to come with us, Blue?” asked Sokka, and Zuko’s head jerked up in surprise. He was surprised that they’d offered at all, and even more surprised that it was the Water Tribe boy, who seemed so suspicious of him, who had done so. He hesitated.

“You don’t have to stay with us for long,” said Katara, watching him intently. “We can just drop you off in the Earth Kingdom if you’d like.”

After a moment’s thought, Zuko nodded, and knelt on the ground to scratch something in the ice.

He paused, thinking, and then threw all caution to the winds.

‘Have you heard anything regarding General Iroh? I heard he was in the city.’

Sokka squinted at the words and then at Zuko, suspicious glare returning.

“We saw him in the oasis,” said Aang nervously. “Umm… how do you know him?”

Zuko had prepared an answer for this.

‘I had tea with him once, years ago.’

“Huh, okay,” said Aang, looking somewhat reassured. “Why did you want to know?”

‘If he’s in the city, I have a message to pass on.’

“Okay,” said Aang, glancing at Sokka and Katara. “I bet Pakku would know… I’ll ask, okay?”

Zuko nodded, feeling some of the weight lift from his chest.

***

Iroh sat in Pakku’s kitchen, tightly gripping a cup of tea.

“Calm yourself, old friend,” said Pakku, stirring a pot of soup. “The boy will show up, and if he doesn’t…”

“If he doesn’t,” said Iroh roughly, “then I will have lost another son.”

Pakku sighed. “I’m sure he’ll show up.” He patted Iroh on the back.

The door banged open, and a boy ran inside.

Pakku spun in alarm, but his expression shifted quickly from shock to annoyance. “Young Avatar,” he said irritably, “why are you here?”

“Hello Master Pakku,” said Aang politely, bowing. He turned to the kitchen table. “Oh, General Iroh! I’m glad you’re here, I have a message for you.”

Iroh’s eyebrows rose, and his expression brightened. “Do you, now?” He held out a hand for the message.

Aang handed him a slip of paper, and Pakku’s eyes followed the movement mistrustfully. Iroh unfolded it and read, expression growing more and more consternated as his eyes tracked along the paper.

Uncle,

I am alive and well. I will be joining the Avatar’s group for the foreseeable future. I am not betraying my father; I still intend to capture the Avatar and regain my honor.

Do you have a way out of the North Pole? Just tell the Avatar yes or no, and he’ll relay the answer. If no, give him a time and a place that we can meet to discuss.

Hope you’re well.

When he reached the end of the message, Iroh dropped his head into his hands.

“Bad news?” asked Pakku sympathetically, and Iroh hesitated. He didn’t want to blow his nephew’s cover… whatever his cover was.

“Bad news,” he confirmed to Pakku. “You said I could perhaps borrow a raft?”

“Of course,” said Pakku, looking a little shell-shocked at the rapid change in subject.

Iroh thanked him and turned to the Avatar. “The answer is yes,” he told Aang.

Aang nodded in comprehension. “Thank you, General Iroh, Master Pakku.” He raced to the door and left the building.

Pakku looked at Iroh in confusion.

***

“The answer was yes,” Aang told Blue, panting from having run halfway across the city.

Blue appeared to light up at the news, though it was hard to tell through the mask. He’d been terrified that his uncle would have vanished, and a little nervous that Aang would have read the message despite his instructions not to, but it seemed as though neither had occurred.

‘Katara got me a slate to write on!’ he wrote on the slate Katara had gotten him to write on.

“Whoa, cool!” said Aang.

‘So… where are you guys going next?’

Aang shrugged, and Zuko mentally screamed. Do they not even have a plan?

“Somewhere in the Earth Kingdom…” said Aang, scratching his head. “I think Pakku mentioned something about a General Fong?”

‘Yes, Fong is a general,’ wrote Zuko, rather passive aggressively.

Aang didn’t seem to pick up on his tone; evidently, the world’s last hope was too pure for sarcasm. “Wow, you know the Earth Kingdom generals?”

Of course I know the generals, thought Zuko to himself, and you should too, aren’t you trying to fight a war here? He didn’t write that on the slate, though.

‘Most of them.’ That was a lie, he’d known all of their names (and their sons’ and daughters’ names, and their cousins’ names, and their best friends’ names) since he was nine. Prince training, and all that. But he couldn’t afford to raise suspicion.

“Awesome!” said Aang. “You make a good group member.” He smiled innocently at Zuko, and Zuko felt his heart pang… at what, he wasn’t sure.

‘Thanks?’

Aang grinned cheerily and hopped to his feet. “Are you ready for dinner? Sokka dragged Katara with him hours ago, and I’m starving.”

Zuko sighed and got to his feet. He gestured to his mask, and Aang’s expression dropped.

“Oh… you can’t take it off to eat with us?”

Zuko shook his head.

“That’s okay!” said Aang brightly. “I’ll bring you something, okay?”

Zuko nodded gratefully, and Aang skipped out of the room.

Zuko sat down, wondering why he wanted to cry all of a sudden.

No one – no one treated him this way aside from his uncle, and his uncle… well, his uncle had to, didn’t he? He only put up with Zuko because they were family.

Now, with Aang, and sometimes even with Katara and Sokka… it was almost like… Zuko squeezed his eyes shut behind his mask.

It was almost like having friends.

He couldn’t start feeling like that, though. No, that was weak, and… and wrong. Traitorous, even. He had to betray them; they couldn’t be friends. His father didn’t have friends. Azula’s friends were really just minions.

He would go with them because it helped with his mission. For that reason, and that reason only. He sat back against the wall, plan firmly in place. Go with the Avatar’s group, gain their trust, stab them in the back, regain his honor.

So why did it make him feel like crying when Aang offered to bring him food? He groaned and pressed his palms against his eyes through the mask.

Ignore it , he told himself resolutely. And so he ignored it.

Chapter Text

Zuko blinked groggily as he woke up, struggling into a sitting position. It took him a moment to remember where he was. Blue sky. Leather saddle. Annoying twelve-year-old… oh, right. His hands shot to his mask, just like every morning, and he breathed a sigh of relief once he had ascertained that it was fully in place.

If he thought about it, that level of precaution probably wasn’t necessary at all. If his mask did slip in his sleep, they would pitch him over Appa’s side before he even woke up. He shuddered a little at the thought.

“Good morning!” said Aang from Appa’s head, smiling brightly at Zuko, who groaned in response. He waved half-heartedly.

“We’re landing soon, so you’ll be able to eat,” said Aang, and Zuko nodded in acknowledgement and made a vague gesture of thanks.

He felt bad for delaying them so much – as much as Aang said that they always stopped this much, he was pretty sure that they were mostly doing it so he would have a chance to take his mask off and eat in private. There wasn’t a lot of privacy on Appa’s back. It still amazed him how much they trusted him, easily accepting his excuses from when he had told them why he couldn’t take off his mask. Even Sokka (Zuko was reluctantly learning their names) had stopped with the suspicious glares.

He felt bad for taking advantage of their trust, but he reminded himself that he shouldn’t. They were the enemy, for Agni’s sake, and anyways, it was their fault for being so naïve. Right?

Zuko groaned under his breath, not enjoying the thousandth repetition of this internal argument, and tried to meditate. He crossed his legs and shut his eyes, focusing on his internal flame, letting it rise and fall with his breathing.

“Hey, what are you doing? That looks cool!”

Zuko’s eyes shot open, and his fists closed tighter in frustration. He fumbled for his slate and chalk.

‘Meditating, what does it look like?’

“It looks just like my friend Kuzon used to do!” said Aang excitedly, and Zuko froze. What had he been thinking? Of course the Avatar would recognize Fire Nation meditation!

“Where did you learn it?” asked Aang, all wide eyes and innocence.

Zuko’s chalk hovered over the board’s surface as he thought fast.

‘An old man in one of the colonies taught me,’ he scribbled, hoping that would be enough to satisfy Aang’s curiosity.

“Cool!” said Aang. He turned back to the front. “Hey, I see a landing spot!” he exclaimed. “Appa, land there!”

Appa grunted in response (Zuko still hadn’t gotten used to the animal’s uncanny understanding of human language) and started to descend.

They landed with a thump, and Aang sprang from Appa’s head to his saddle, rushing over to wake up Katara and Sokka.

Once they were all off Appa’s back, Katara dug into one of their bags and pulled out a pouch of jerky. “Eat as much as you want,” she told Zuko, handing it to him. “We have lots left.”

“Hey, you never tell me that,” said Sokka, annoyed. “How come the new guy gets to eat whatever he wants?”

“He eats, like, half what you do, Sokka,” said Aang teasingly.

Sokka crossed his arms.

Zuko nodded his thanks to Katara and took the jerky into the woods, walking for at least five minutes before deciding he was far enough off. He looked furtively around to ascertain that he hadn’t been followed, took off his mask, and began to eat.

***

Katara still wasn’t sure what to think about Blue. He was unnervingly quiet; obviously, he didn’t speak, but he was also almost silent when he moved, startling her on numerous occasions. He was a convenient member to have in the group, though; he was far better at picking up on what chores needed to be done than either Aang or Sokka.

Overall, he was an ideal member – quiet, helpful, and a skilled fighter – but somehow, he didn’t really seem like a person. The messages he scrawled on his slate were oddly formal, and even after several days of living together, he treated them as strangers rather than friends. Perhaps he’s just shy, she thought to herself as she checked their food supplies.

“We should be at General Fong’s by this time tomorrow,” said Sokka, cutting into Katara’s thoughts. He was squinting at a map.

Aang perked up. "That’s exciting!”

“Do you think Blue will stay with us?” asked Katara, looking up from where she was poking through one of their bags.

Sokka frowned. “I don’t know. I hope so.”

Katara rolled her eyes at him. “You just like him because he does all your chores.”

“What can I say?” said Sokka, shrugging.

“I’d miss him too,” said Aang. “And not just because he does my chores!”

Katara giggled, but sighed immediately after. “I’d miss him, too.”

***

The next morning, they arrived at General Fong’s, just as Sokka had predicted. The general’s men seemed a little shocked to see that they were traveling with someone who refused to take off his mask, but they took it in stride and welcomed Zuko alongside the others.

Aang was over the moon with happiness that he was going to be able to master the Avatar State, but Katara didn’t seem so excited. Zuko didn’t know what to think. He remembered Aang during the battle at the North Pole, destroying ships and killing Fire Nation soldiers left and right, and he shuddered a little.

It was so hard to connect Aang, the normally bright and happy twelve-year-old, with the monster who had murdered hundreds of Zuko’s people in the span of an hour. He couldn’t trust the Avatar, Zuko reminded himself, he couldn’t fall for the kid’s pacifist exterior.

Aang wore more of a mask than Zuko did.

That was why it surprised Zuko, when Aang told him and Sokka that he had made his final decision: he wouldn’t go through with the general’s plan. Zuko wondered… was Aang actually regretful of the destruction he caused in that state?

He shook himself; he didn’t need that sort of doubt.

Later, when he heard screaming from the courtyard, however, he felt an uncomfortable wave of worry rush over him. What was going on?

He was even more concerned when he made it down the courtyard to see what was happening. Fong was clearly threatening Aang, who appeared shell-shocked by this change in behavior.

Unsheathing his swords, Zuko ran towards Fong, but a wave of earth crashed into him, and before he knew it, he was buried to the chin in sand. Craning his neck to see what was happening, he saw Katara and Sokka forced back by similar tactics, while Aang pled with the general to let them go. Anger washed over Zuko, but he was stuck in place. He only barely kept himself from breathing fire at the general.

Finally, as Katara was swallowed up by the earth, Aang’s eyes began to glow white, and he rose into the air.

Zuko watched in astonishment.

Katara was quickly recovered, and Fong was ecstatic, but Aang wasn’t done. A wave of power washed outwards from him, leaving Zuko, Katara, and Sokka untouched, but knocking over rows of soldiers and causing nearby houses to crumple. Zuko’s mouth fell open behind his mask.

He got to his feet, watching General Fong congratulate Aang, who stared at him in open-mouthed horror. Stepping forward, Zuko was about to put General Fong to rights when Sokka beat him to it, knocking the general out with a well-placed blow to the head. Zuko cheered internally.

Within a half-hour, their stay was over, and they were back on Appa, aloft over the Earth Kingdom.

“Thanks for sticking up for us against Fong, Blue,” said Aang to Zuko with a huge yawn. “I was a little worried you would take his side over ours.”

Zuko stared at him before groping for his slate. ‘ Why would I do that?’ he wrote, completely nonplussed.

Aang furrowed his brow. “Because you’re an Earth Kingdom citizen?”

‘Oh right,’ wrote Zuko, mentally kicking himself for forgetting.

Sokka was listening in from the other side of the saddle, and his lips pursed. “Wait, you never actually told us that, did you? We just assumed.”

Aang looked from Sokka to Zuko. “Are you?”

Zuko froze. ‘Yes,’ he wrote. He thought for a moment. ‘I grew up in one of the colonies though.’

“Oh,” said Sokka, frowning. “Wait, does that make you Earth Kingdom or… Fire Nation?”

‘Earth Kingdom,’ scribbled Zuko, fidgeting with his sleeve. ‘I’m just familiar with a lot of Fire Nation customs.’

Aang perked up at that. “That’s really useful!”

Sokka nodded enthusiastically. “Is it true that they kill dragons for sport?”

Zuko hesitated. It didn’t seem like particularly sensitive information, so he wrote on his slate, ‘Dragons are extinct.’

Aang’s jaw dropped at that news. “What?!” he said, horrified. “They weren’t extinct a hundred years ago!”

‘Fire Lord Sozin started the tradition of hunting them.’

Aang looked distraught, and Sokka just looked moody. “That whole family is evil,” he said, tugging idly at a loose thread on his sleeve. Neither he nor Aang seemed to notice how Zuko tensed.

“They’re not all evil,” said Aang reasonably. “General Iroh was nice. And you’re friends with him, right Blue?”

Zuko nodded, biting his lip behind his mask.

Sokka huffed. “One good apple out of how many? Sozin was evil. Ozai, evil. Zuko, do I even have to say?”

“Speaking of Zuko,” said Aang with a frown, “do you know what happened to him after he escaped us?”

“No idea,” said Sokka with an immense yawn, “maybe you killed him when you went all glow-y.”

Zuko scowled, feeling as though someone had punched him in the gut. Sokka sounded hopeful.

Aang stared at the saddle, looking rather depressed. “Well, anyways,” he said, brightening up, “tell us more about the Fire Nation!”

Zuko shook his head, gripping his slate more tightly than it deserved.

“Please?” said Aang, giving Zuko puppy-dog eyes. “I’m bored.”

Zuko sighed internally. The kid acted like he was twelve! Then he remembered that Aang was twelve. Yikes.

‘Fine,’ he wrote, chalk scraping harshly across the board, ‘what do you want to know?’

“How does the royalty system work?” asked Sokka, leaning back on his hands. “Like, I get that there’s a Fire Lord, but past that…”

Zuko sighed internally and started to write an explanation. Three minutes later, he was despairing of ever explaining anything to these people.

“Wait, but why is Ozai Fire Lord then?” asked Aang, scratching his head. “If Iroh’s older?”

‘Azulon gave him the throne instead because Iroh’s son died, so he didn’t have an heir.’

“Who are Ozai’s heirs, then?” asked Sokka.

‘Zuko and Azula.’

“Okay, so Azula will inherit the throne?”

Zuko’s grip tightened on the chalk. ‘What do you mean?’

Sokka looked confused. “She’s older, right?”

‘No?’

“Oh,” said Sokka with a frown. “Then what’s the Crown Prince doing chasing the Avatar around the world?”

Zuko froze. His chalk hovered over the board. ‘He was banished,’ he wrote finally, deciding there wasn’t much to lose. ‘He was ordered to capture the Avatar to regain his honor.' He paused. 'At least, that’s what I heard.’

Katara, who had until then had her eyes closed but had opened them to see what Zuko had written, gave a huff that could have been a laugh. “That explains a lot,” she said. “From when he tied me to a tree and went on some speech about honor.”

Aang was frowning. “How did a prince get banished?”

Zuko’s heart pounded against his chest as he remembered, and his hands shook a little. He didn’t write anything for a long moment. Finally, he scribbled a messy ‘I don’t know,’ and set down the slate.

Sokka stared aimlessly over the edge of Appa’s saddle, and there was a beat of silence. “I feel bad for the guy,” said Sokka finally.

Zuko flinched at the words. No one else said anything.

Later, when the others were all asleep, Zuko sat against the side of the saddle, turning Sokka’s words over in his head. Did he really deserve any sort of pity for what had happened to him?

No, he decided at last, he’d deserved it. He fell asleep then, but he dreamt of Aang, Sokka, and Katara. In the dream, he took off his mask, but they still welcomed him, let him be part of their group, treated him as a friend.

He woke up with wet cheeks and a tight feeling in his chest.

Chapter Text

“I can’t believe it,” said Aang as they stood on a hillside overlooking the great city of Omashu. “I know the war has spread far… but Omashu always seemed untouchable.”

Zuko was inclined to agree. Looking down at the city, he found it hard to reconcile this empty skeleton of a city with the bustling center of commerce that he remembered. He’d visited Omashu early in his quest to find the Avatar, and while that had obviously proved unsuccessful, he’d enjoyed the bustling streets and shouting merchants.

Now, it was just empty.

***

Once they’d gotten inside the city, courtesy of the sewer system, of all possible routes (Zuko didn’t think he was ever going to get that stink out of his clothes), they were accosted by several guards.

“What are you doing out past curfew?” asked one of the guards suspiciously, staring them down, and Zuko took a step backwards. Unfortunately, this seemed to draw the guard’s attention. “What are you wearing?” he asked, eyes narrowing at Zuko, and Zuko looked to the others for support.

There was a brief moment of silence before Sokka spoke. “He has to wear the mask.” The guard looked at him with an expression of complete incredulity, and Sokka opened and closed his mouth a couple of times. “Um,” he said. “He’s contagious. With…”

“Pentapox,” supplied Aang helpfully, and Sokka nodded vigorously.

“It’s very contagious. And deadly. So.” He gestured to Zuko’s mask.

The guard looked nervous now. “I think I’ve heard of that,” he said, looking to the guard next to him.

“I think my cousin died of that!” said the other guard, backing away fast.

“Keep that mask on!” said the first guard, backpedaling equally rapidly, and the group watched them practically sprint in the opposite direction.

“That worked surprisingly well,” said Sokka, turning back to the others, and Zuko nodded to him and Aang, hoping to convey his thanks.

They moved on through the city, ducking behind walls periodically as patrols went by. Then, as they were walking along a wide ledge, there was a crash from overhead, and several boulders came crashing down along one of the chutes – directly towards another group of people, dozens of feet below their group.

Zuko didn’t even have time to blink before Aang was moving forwards with a gasp of horror, spinning his staff so that the rocks were forced aside with a gust of wind.

The people below looked up, and as Zuko looked down at them, at the girl who was standing to one side of the group, he realized…

It couldn’t be.

It couldn’t be, but then there were knives flying at Aang, and Zuko’s jaw dropped behind his mask.

He didn’t have time to stand still and ponder, though – their attackers were rapidly scaling the wall, and Zuko hurried backwards with the others. They formed a cluster, and then Zuko saw her properly for the first time in years – Mai, sprinting towards them, knives flashing in her hands.

Aang deflected the first round with a well-placed gust of wind, before hurrying back towards Zuko and the others. Katara was fighting another of the attackers, sending a water whip at him with deadly precision.

Zuko probably should have drawn his swords, as he belatedly realized, but Mai was bearing down on them, and short-range swords weren’t much of a match for long-range knives, anyways.

She sent another round of knives at them, and they weren’t going to be able to deflect, and-

The floor dropped out from under them.

***

They landed in some sort of subterranean room, with three fierce-looking men staring at them.

Zuko rubbed dazedly at his head.

Ten minutes later, he was rubbing dazedly at his head again, but for an entirely different reason. Sokka had somehow persuaded these people that their best bet was to pretend they had a deadly disease, using the suckers from the tunnel to create welts on their faces.

Zuko wasn’t sure if it was the most idiotic idea he’d ever heard, or the most ingenious.

He was only partially paying attention to what the others were saying though – the other part of his head was spinning.

Mai. Was here. In Omashu.

It was the first time Zuko had seen anyone from his childhood in three years.

He was fairly confident that there was no way she could have recognized him – he’d bought his mask after being banished, and the Blue Spirit was a pretty popular character in the Fire Nation.

Still.

It felt weird having seen her, and it made him nervous. If Mai was around, then… Azula?

On the bright side, Azula didn’t know about his mask either, and the swords he’d trained with as a kid had looked different from his current dao, but Zuko had learned very young that he should never underestimate his little sister. If he did stumble across her, there was a decent chance she’d figure it out, and then where would he be?

He shook those thoughts away. Even if they did see Azula at some point, and even if she did somehow uncover Zuko’s identity, he wasn’t doing anything wrong. In fact, he was doing very well at his given mission.

He’d not only found the Avatar and tracked him across the world, but he’d also somehow gained his trust.

Capturing him now would be easy.

Except… would it? If it would be easy, why hadn’t Zuko done it yet?

Zuko shook those thoughts away. It would be easy. He just needed access to a ship, or some mode of transportation, that was it. It wasn’t like he could just grab the Avatar and run with him on foot.

He was making a tactical decision by staying with them. He just couldn’t let himself get too attached.

“Blue?” said Sokka uncertainly, and Zuko realized that he’d been standing stock-still while the others moved around him. He shook himself.

They were heading out of the room, back up towards the surface, and Sokka was saying something about sick formation. Aang, however, was walking in the other direction, and as Zuko watched, Katara hurried up behind him.

“Aang? Are you not coming with us?”

Aang shook his head, looking uncharacteristically stubborn. “Not till I find Bumi.”

Katara frowned, but nodded, and Aang leapt into the air on his glider. Zuko tore his gaze away and got into formation.

They marched out of the city.

Once they’d made it out of the city and formed a rough sort of camp a short distance away, they sat comfortably down on the grass. Zuko tilted back on his hands. There were a few moments of peace, before Aang arrived back with some huge, white, fluffy animal, looking despondent.

“We looked everywhere,” bemoaned Aang. “No Bumi.”

The others rose to console him, but then the leader of the refugees approached them, and Sokka turned to him.

“We’ve got a problem,” said the man. “We just did a headcount.”

Sokka frowned. “Did we lose someone?”

“No,” said the man with a long-suffering sigh. “We have an extra.”

A toddler came waddling up to the man, babbling excitedly, and Zuko’s eyebrows rose behind his mask.

“A baby?” said Sokka, pitch rising, and Zuko, recovering from his initial shock, stifled a smirk behind his mask.

He found himself stifling smirks quite a few times over the next few hours, as Katara showed her skill with children and Sokka showed his complete lack thereof.

Then, however, something happened to quell Zuko’s humor altogether. A messenger hawk swooped into camp with a loud screech, message tube on its back. It screeched again impatiently, and Aang hurried over, taking the message from its back.

Aang unrolled the message, which was branded with a Fire Nation insignia, and Zuko waited with bated breath.

“It’s from the Fire Nation’s governor!”

Mai’s father.

“He thinks we kidnapped his son!”

Wait… that’s Mai’s brother?!

“So…” continued Aang, “he wants to make a trade. His son for-” his eyes went huge – “King Bumi!”

Sokka snatched the scroll from Aang to read it for himself, and Zuko tilted back on his hands, thinking hard.

They would probably expect him to go with them, right? So he probably should go with them.

That would likely mean seeing Mai again. He still thought that the chance of her recognizing him was pretty low. So he’d probably be fine.

It would be interesting to see her again.

He just hoped Azula wouldn’t be there.

***

Azula was there.

Azula was there, and Zuko was regret.

He hung towards the back of the group, staring at his little sister and her friends, wondering how he’d ever ended up in this situation.

Azula didn’t even seem to notice him; she was focused on Aang, and she was saying something about the trade.

“-doesn’t seem like a fair trade, does it?”

Oh, that sounded like Azula.

Then, Mai spoke. “You’re right,” she said, sounding as bored as ever. “The deal’s off.”

Zuko’s jaw dropped behind his mask. Wasn’t it her little brother in Sokka’s arms? What was she doing?

He didn’t get an answer to his question before King Bumi, in his odd metal coffin, was pulled away, and Aang sprinted after him. Then, to Zuko’s horror, Aang took a huge leap with his airbending and-

He could practically see the gears turning in Azula’s head-

“The Avatar!” exclaimed Azula, and Zuko mentally screamed. “My lucky day!” said Azula, and jumped after Aang.

Zuko hesitated.

Then he sprinted after his sister.

No way was he going to let his prodigy little sister beat him at yet another thing.

“Go get her!” shouted Sokka after him, and the corner of Zuko’s mouth twitched up at the support. His smile vanished just as quickly as he realized that he had the exact same goal as Azula, the goal Sokka thought he was stopping Azula from achieving.

Whatever. Sokka was half right.

Unsheathing his swords, he leaped after his sister, who had taken advantage of the pulley attached to King Bumi’s coffin, and was using it to ascend to the roof of the building. He grabbed the rope and felt himself whisked upwards, until finally he reached the roof.

Azula was standing at the edge of the roof, watching the Avatar, who was perched atop King Bumi’s coffin. She hadn’t noticed Zuko.

With the Blue Spirit’s signature stealth, Zuko unsheathed his swords and crept up behind her, but before he could make the first move, she seemed to sense him, and she spun on the spot, wave of blue fire sweeping outwards from her extended fist.

Zuko jumped back to avoid the flames.

They died out, and Azula stared suspiciously at him.

“Who are you?” she demanded, stepping closer like a wolf-puma stalking its prey. Zuko didn’t respond, instead lunging forwards with his swords, taking a swipe at her arm.

She responded with a blast of fire, and he crossed his swords in front of him, calling on his chi to deflect the flames.

Azula’s eyes widened.

Perhaps that had been a mistake.

“So you’re a firebender,” she realized, surveying him. “Which makes you a traitor.”

There was no way she wouldn’t recognize him now.

“A traitor firebender who fights with swords,” she mused, and Zuko felt his doom impending. “Reminds me of my late brother.”

Late?

“It’s a real shame he died,” said Azula conversationally, sending another blast of fire Zuko’s way. “You two would have gotten on well.”

Zuko blinked behind his mask, then shook himself before going back on the offensive. He feinted to one side before diving towards Azula, who was forced to step backwards to avoid his blades – dangerously close to the edge.

Then, however, she seemed to realize her initial mission, and she spun in place to see where the Avatar had gotten to. He was still perched atop Bumi’s cage. He appeared to be discussing something with the king.

Azula sent a blast of flame their way, and Aang knocked it away with a gust of wind. Meanwhile, Zuko moved towards her, going on the offensive with his swords. She forced him backwards with a handful of fire, before sending flame at the chain that suspended the coffin, which broke upon impact.

Aang pinwheeled his arms wildly as the coffin fell, and Azula smirked in satisfaction before turning back to Zuko.

“See you later,” she said with a sweet smile, before leaping into a cart on one of the chutes and plummeting downwards, somehow keeping her balance as the cart raced along the track. Zuko sprinted to the edge of the roof and watched her go, cursing at himself.

Below him, Sokka and Katara were still engaged in combat with Mai and Ty Lee. Zuko grabbed the rope he’d used to ascend and started to slide down, gears turning frantically in his head.

On one hand, fighting against Mai and Ty Lee was probably the best choice if he didn’t want to blow his cover. On the other hand, could he even bring himself to fight them?

They’d been his friends. And Mai… even if he hadn’t really thought of her that way in years, they’d been something more than that at one point. Would it count as betrayal if he fought against them?

He didn’t have time to come to a decision before his feet were touching the ground again. He surveyed the scene through the slits in his mask; Ty Lee and Katara were fighting, and from the looks of it, Katara’s waterbending wasn’t working. Zuko winced: he remembered that trick of Ty Lee’s.

Then, as Sokka came to Katara’s aid fighting off Ty Lee, Mai was there, sprinting past Zuko towards the others, knives flashing in her hands. Sokka and Katara were distracted; there was no way they were going to get out of the way in time…

Zuko moved.

Before he could even fully register his decision, he was racing in front of Mai, raising his swords in front of him and blocking the knives that flew towards his face.

Mai came to a skidding stop, staring at him. “Who’re you?”

Zuko didn’t respond. He was frozen – he hadn’t consciously made the decision to defend Sokka and Katara, but now here he was, facing off with someone who had once been his closest confidante.

She didn’t know that, though. She advanced, knives in both hands, a dangerous gleam in her eyes, and Zuko unfroze. He crossed his swords defensively but didn’t advance, and her eyes narrowed. Then, so fast that his eyes could barely track the movement, she threw both knives at once.

He ducked away, but then there were more knives coming at him, and his mind was still spinning…

Then Sokka was there, sprinting at Mai with a recklessness Zuko could admire, diving into her side and knocking her off kilter.

“Blue!” he shouted, and Zuko turned. “You okay?”

Zuko nodded, though Sokka was too embroiled in combat to see, and then shook himself. Sokka was a good fighter, but he wasn’t doing too well against Mai’s knives.

Zuko sprinted to his aid, knocking one of Mai’s knives aside with his right sword and pointing the left one at her heart.

She froze, still managing to look bored, and Zuko moved the blade a little closer to her. His heart was pounding, and he really wasn’t sure what to do. Obviously, he wasn’t going to kill her, but like… what was the next step here?

Then, like the fluffy ten-ton miracle he was, Appa swooped down next to their group. Katara, who was still wrestling with Ty Lee, managed to push the other girl off and sprint towards Appa, while Sokka frantically motioned for Zuko to come with him. Zuko did so, vaulting onto Appa’s saddle a moment after the other boy, and Mai cursed below.

“Yip yip!” shouted Katara, and they took off. Zuko peered over the edge of the saddle to where Ty Lee was cartwheeling back to Mai, and the two girls stood shoulder-to-shoulder as they watched them fly off.

“Well, that was exciting,” said Sokka after a brief moment of breathless silence. “Katara, are you okay?”

Katara was staring at her waterskin, making movements as though she was trying to waterbend, but to no avail. “Something’s wrong with my waterbending,” she said worriedly. “The girl in pink did something.”

Zuko fumbled for his slate.

It’s called chi-blocking , he wrote, showing the slate to Katara, who frowned and set her waterskin aside. Your bending will come back, don’t worry.

Katara looked relieved. “Thank the spirits.”

Sokka snorted. “Easy for you to say,” he said jokingly. “The rest of us here never have bending.”

Zuko froze at that. Obviously, they didn’t know he was a firebender, but… it hadn’t really registered that they didn’t know. What if they’d been there when he’d used his firebending against Azula?

“Sorry,” said Katara, looking apologetic. “I’m just used to having it.”

Sokka nodded. He fiddled with his boomerang before frowning and sitting up straighter. “Blue, do you know where Aang is?”

Zuko’s eyes widened behind his mask. He’d kind of… forgotten about Aang and Azula, in the confusion of fighting Mai and Ty Lee. He shook his head.

Sokka cursed, hurrying up to Appa’s head and taking the reins. He steered Appa downwards a bit, peering over the edge to the city below them. Katara and Zuko joined him, and then Katara gasped and pointed.

“Right there!”

Aang was perched atop Bumi’s coffin, which had come to a stop in the chute, thanks to a large rock blocking its descent. They appeared to be having a discussion of some sort, and Azula was nowhere to be seen.

Zuko silently thanked the spirits for that.

Sokka steered Appa towards Aang, shouting his name. Aang looked up, then back down at Bumi. They appeared to finish their conversation, and then Bumi shot back up the chute – was he earthbending? Through the coffin?

Whatever. Sokka guided Appa down next to Aang, and Aang leapt onto the saddle.

There was a relieved sort of silence between them as they flew back to the camp outside the city.

***

That night, as Zuko lay awake, staring at the stars through the slits in his mask, his thoughts were just as plagued and uncomfortable as they had been for the past several nights.

It had been nice fighting with Sokka and Katara on his side, he realized. He was used to fighting alone, usually against multiple opponents, with no one to have his back if he slipped up.

Today, when they’d been fighting Mai and he’d been frozen with shock, he’d felt a sort of resignment sweep over him – he was going to lose the battle, and who knew what would happen? Then, Sokka had swooped in, taking on Mai and giving Zuko time to recover himself, and Zuko had been able to return the favor in turn when Mai gained an edge on Sokka.

It was just… it had been nice. That was all.

He couldn’t get used to it, he reminded himself. He was here to capture the Avatar, not to become fighting buddies with the Avatar’s friends.

He turned onto his side and forced himself to clear his thoughts.

His dreams were unsettled again that night.

Chapter Text

Zuko was tired of this.

Earthbenders were boring… like, really boring. Every single person to fight so far had fit the exact same description – big muscles… ugly beard… nasty smell of sweat. Even the Water Tribe had more variation than these guys. Where were all the women? What about the guys who weren’t built like komodo-rhinos? You didn’t even need muscles to earthbend, as far as Zuko understood it…

Whatever. Zuko tilted back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched some guy called The Boulder (seriously?) take on another guy called The Hippo.

The sound of rocks pounding against each other echoed through the arena, intensifying the pounding in Zuko’s head. He slipped his fingers under the edges of his mask, rubbing at his temples and wishing this could be over already. They were supposedly here to find an earthbending teacher for Aang, but Zuko couldn’t really imagine any of these men trying to teach Aang.

Katara seemed to have the same idea, watching with a bored expression that matched how Zuko was feeling. Sokka, on the other hand, was screaming his head off in excitement.

Zuko let his attention wander, thoughts drifting through his head like clouds on a summer afternoon.

“Now,” said the announcer, and the anticipation in his voice paired with the crowd’s sudden silence made Zuko snap back to attention, “the moment you’ve all been waiting for! The Boulder versus your champion… the Blind Bandit!”

The crowd erupted into cheers.

Zuko blinked. Had he heard that right? Someone was entering the ring… someone short, maybe even shorter than Aang. Zuko squinted.

It was a girl, he realized as she turned so that her face was in better relief. She was dressed in green, and her eyes were oddly blurry… was she really blind?

“She can’t really be blind,” said Katara in disbelief, echoing Zuko’s inner monologue. Zuko squinted through his mask, watching as the girl strode into the ring, oozing confidence even though she barely came up to the Boulder’s waist.

“I think she is blind,” said Aang, sounding stunned, and Zuko frowned behind his mask, eyebrows drawing together. He still remembered his own experience with blindness, those days after the Agni Kai when he had flinched every time someone approached from his left. He couldn’t imagine trying to fight someone in that state… and he’d only been partially blind.

The girl, though, was saying something to the Boulder with a cocky grin, and it couldn’t have been clearer that she expected to win the fight.

Not even five minutes later, it was clear that that confidence hadn’t been misplaced. The Blind Bandit had won by a landslide, no pun intended. The crowd went wild.

So Zuko was a little surprised when Aang – twelve-year-old pacifist that he was – decided to take her on in a fight of his own. It just seemed… rude.

And then he decided, in the middle of a fighting ring, that he didn’t want to fight? That he just wanted to ‘talk?’

The girl stormed off in a huff, and honestly, what had Aang’s plan been? Have a cup of tea and a nice chat in the middle of a fighting arena? All he’d managed to do was piss off the best earthbender they’d found in all their time looking. Zuko shook his head in consternation.

It didn’t really affect him, though, did it. In fact, it was good if the Avatar couldn’t find an earthbending teacher – good for the Fire Nation, good for Zuko.

It was just… it was getting hard to untangle the two in his head: his own goals, the group’s goals. The group that was beginning to feel like family.

He shook his head like he was trying to get water out of his ears, and trailed Katara out of the arena.

***

Twelve hours later, Toph lounged against the edge of Appa’s saddle, scraping dirt out from between her toes with a bit of a stick. It was horribly disorienting, up in the air with hardly any earth around to keep her bearings with, but she was trying to forget about it.

It was also unnerving to be sitting in the saddle with someone who didn’t speak. The siblings were asleep, and the Avatar was sitting on Appa’s head, but she could tell from his breathing that he was still awake. Aang had explained that he wore a mask and never spoke. He expressed himself through writing, but that hardly helped Toph. She didn’t like not being able to communicate with a quarter of the group.

“So,” she said, breaking the silence. “You’re Blue?”

There was a rustle, like maybe he was nodding, but obviously no response.

She plowed on. “We should get to know each other. How about this: knock on Appa’s saddle to respond. Once for yes, twice for no.”

There was a pause, and then a single knock confirmed that he understood her system.

“Great,” she said, grinning. “First question. What nation are you from? Water Tribe?”

Two knocks.

“Earth?”

A telling pause, and then one knock.

Interesting.

See, Toph hadn’t met many firebenders during her twelve years. There weren’t a lot of firebenders who came to Gaoling, and those who did were usually fairly secretive about it. But she had met a few, and she’d catalogued every detail about them that she could – the way they moved, the strange, controlled way that they breathed, and the way they carried their weight in their core, like it was the most important part of their body. This was in contrast to earthbenders, who put their weight into their steps, and rarely worried about breath control.

From the few firebenders she’d met, she’d learned how to identify them, in case she ever needed to fight one.

And she knew – without a shadow of a doubt – that Blue had to be a firebender.

Of course, it made sense that he was hiding it. The others were actively fighting the Fire Nation – they might not take too kindly to a firebender within their midst. Still, she had to admit that it was suspicious – a firebender, who hid his face and never spoke? How were they supposed to know his motives?

She filed the information away in her brain, and resolved to question him more on it later, once they were back on firm ground and she could tell when he was lying. For now, she went on with her questions.  “How old are you? Older than eighteen?”

Two knocks. That made sense, considering that he was traveling with teenagers.

“Seventeen?”

Two knocks.

“Sixteen?”

One knock.

The same age as Sokka, then. “Okay,” she said. “Where are your parents? Back at home somewhere?”

He hesitated. Then one knock, pause, two knocks.

“Yes and no,” she mused. “So one is at home, and the other isn’t?”

One knock.

“Okay,” she said, and leaned back in her seat. “That’s all for now. You need a nickname, though.”

There was a resounding silence from his end of the saddle.

Hmm. What was a good nickname for a firebender?

“I know,” she said, and snapped her fingers. “Sparky.”

She didn’t miss the sharp little intake of breath from the other side of the saddle, nor the slow, forced exhale, like he was trying not to betray anything. She settled back against the edge of the saddle, grinning. Enemy or not, it was fun to make him squirm.