Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Zuko glared at the ground of his new cell, cursing himself for even being captured in the north pole in the first place. He could’ve prevented it, he should’ve fought back! But he’d been frozen, staring at the place where Zhao had been dragged into the water by the ocean spirit. He’d been unable to move, wondering why Zhao hadn’t taken his hand. Why he even cared so much.

The rest after that had been a blur. He remembered being captured by a few waterbenders, then taken to their chief, seeing the Avatar and the water peasants, who immediately identified him as Prince of the Fire Nation.

He’d been thrown into an icy cold cell, handcuffed and chained so he couldn’t firebend. They’d gagged him after the revelation that he had the breath of fire. Other than that, he had to admit that he’d been treated relatively well for a prisoner. He was fed, and they made sure he didn’t freeze either. He was just grateful that this wasn’t the Earth Kingdom. He had heard horror stories about firebenders getting their hands crushed, and he remembered how it had almost happened to his uncle.

Zuko growled in frustration. He didn’t even know where Uncle was right now. He’d last seen him at the koi fish pond, with the Avatar and his friends. Had he been captured too?

-----

In fact, he had not, though Zuko had no way of knowing that. Iroh stood by the shore, clutching a bag in his hands.

“Please, give me your word that you will help him,” he said, looking anxiously at the other man in front of him, dressed in water tribe furs.

Pakku nodded firmly. “I give you my word. I will do my best to help Prince Zuko.”

Iroh inclined his head. “Thank you,” he said, trying to show his gratitude in those two words. “Please, when you have the chance, tell him I have not abandoned him.” The guilt of leaving his sixteen year old nephew to fend for himself in enemy hands was overwhelming, but he knew that it was for the best. Zuko was strong and brave. He would survive this. They would meet again.

“Tell him, once he has escaped, to meet me at Omashu,” Iroh said. The plan was that he would leave on a raft and make it to the Earth Kingdom, and from there make his way to Omashu. Pakku would help Zuko escape at night, when no one was around, and tell him where to meet Iroh.

Pakku inclined his head.

Iroh smiled sadly at his old friend. “You have my gratitude,” he said, before making his way onto the raft that would carry him to the Earth Kingdom. His heart hurt at the thought of leaving his nephew behind, but he knew that it was the only way.

-----

Zuko jolted awake at the sound of his cell door opening and glared at the two guards.

“Get up,” One of them said, but Zuko just glared.

The other one rolled his eyes. “You have no where else to go, Your Highness.” He said the last two words like they had a bad taste in his mouth.

The guard grabbed Zuko’s arms, and Zuko pulled away. “Let me go!” he yelled, his words muffled by the gag. He struggled to get away.

The guard let him go, and in one quick move, punched him in the stomach. Zuko doubled over in pain and groaned. His body still ached from the explosion that had destroyed his ship, and this had only made it worse. The guard pulled him to his feet and yanked him towards the door.

“We weren’t supposed to hurt him!” the other guard said anxiously. “The Avatar said not to!”

Zuko frowned. The Avatar? Why would he ask the guards not to hurt Zuko? They were enemies. If anything, he should want them to hurt Zuko more.

“He wasn’t cooperating. Put this on him.” They tied a blindfold around his eyes and dragged him. Panic crept into him as they yanked him around another corner.

“Watch your step. Stairs,” the guard said, and they continued on, going downstairs.

He heard another door clang open, and he was shoved inside. His breath hitched in fear when he felt them grab his arms and chain them behind him, before finally taking off his blindfold.

Zuko blinked and looked around, scanning his surroundings. He was in another cell, as he’d expected. But this one was smaller, and the walls weren’t made of ice. It was made completely of metal.

The guards left with a slam of the door, and Zuko glared at the door. How was he supposed to formulate an escape plan if he didn’t even know where he was?

He’d just have to wait for an opportunity. He’d never been the most patient person, but when it came to his survival, he would be. He had to be.

Chapter Text

After Yue’s death, all he felt was numbness. He couldn’t bring himself to feel anything more than that. Even though he knew that Katara and Aang were trying their best to make him feel better, he didn’t really want to talk to them. He just wanted to be alone.

And then the angry jerk had shown up, captured by the chief’s men. Usually, Sokka would’ve been able to conjure up a few insults, maybe a sarcastic comment, but he said nothing except confirm the prince’s identity to the Water Tribe.

“What are they going to do with him?” Aang asked the next day at lunch. They were planning to leave the next day, to the Earth Kingdom to find Aang an earthbending teacher.

“It doesn’t matter,” Katara said, taking a sip of her water. “As long as we know that he’s out of the way and won’t bother us anymore.”

Aang still looked doubtful. “Are they going to keep him here forever? He’s a firebender, being in the cold for that long won’t be good for him.”

“Who cares?” Sokka mumbled, absently twisting his fork in his plate. “He can rot here, for all I care.”

He noticed Aang and Katara exchange a worried glance, but he ignored them. All three of them were silent for a few moments, before Aang brightened up.

“How about we take him to the Earth Kingdom?” he said. “It’ll be safer for him there, and we can leave him in a prison.”

Katara frowned, considering it. “I don’t know, Aang. Is it safe for us to bring him along?”

“He’s a firebender, Aang!” Sokka pointed out. “The ships are made of wood. Mix wood and fire and bam, ship is gone.”

Aang deflated a little. “What if we built a special kind of cell? A metal one? We could ask Chief Arnook!”

Sokka thought about it. It actually wasn’t a bad idea overall, but did he really want Prince Ponytail on a ship with them? And after that, they were planning on flying on Appa. He shuddered at that thought.

Katara took one look at Aang’s pleading face and softened. “Come on, Sokka,” she said. “It’s actually a good idea! And we’ll leave Zuko in the prison of the first place we land,” she added, looking at Sokka’s reluctant expression.

Faced with the pleading expressions of both the avatar and his little sister, Sokka had to give in.

“Fine,” he grumbled. “We’ll ask the chief. But,” he warned, wagging his finger in front of Aang’s relieved face. “If he does anything stupid, I will personally toss him overboard.”

Katara shrugged. “Fine by me. Should we ask Chief Arnook?”

A few hours later, they’d talked to the chief and convinced him that the Earth Kingdom was a safer place to keep the fire prince, both for him and for the Water Tribe. After all, even if he was in a cell, he was still a firebender. Fire and ice were not the best combination either.

They had to delay their departure for a couple of days to get the metal cell built, but that was fine with Sokka. He’d wanted some more time to relax anyways.

“One of us needs to tell him what’s going on,” Aang said, when they were finally on the ship, ready to go. “He’s probably scared.”

Sokka snorted. He couldn’t imagine Zuko being anything but angry at all times. “Nah, I think he’ll be fine.”

“Yeah,” Katara agreed. “We’re already doing him a favor by taking him out of the North Pole. We don’t need to tell him anything.”

“Fine. I’ll go then.” Aang only took one step before he was grabbed by both Katara and Sokka.

“No!” they both shouted.

“It shouldn’t be you!” Katara yelled. “You’re the one he’s after. What if he does something to you?”

“Yeah,” Sokka added. “It should be me or Katara.”

He and Katara exchanged glances.

“Not it,” Katara said quickly, and Sokka groaned.

“Why is it always me,” he muttered, making his way over to the staircase that led to the dungeons.

He hesitated outside the door of the cell. He didn’t hear anything that sounded threatening, but this was Zuko. Sokka knew what he was capable of.

He sighed before slowly opening the door. “Hello? Angry jerk? You there?”

Zuko jerked up from where he’d been lying down and glared at Sokka. He was chained and gagged, and for the first time, Sokka realized just how young he was. He looked to be around the same age as Sokka himself, maybe a few years older. He'd always thought of Zuko as an older, scary soldier, but he wasn't even that old. He shook that thought away, not liking how uncomfortable it made him. It didn’t matter how old he was. He was a firebender, the prince of firebenders.

“Don’t try to firebend at me,” Sokka threatened. “I’ll toss you overboard.”

Zuko yelled something that was muffled by the gag, and Sokka smirked. “What was that? Oh right, you can’t talk. Too bad.”

Zuko lowered his gaze and scowled, and Sokka sighed. “The only reason I’m even here is because Aang has a kind soul, even towards annoying princes. We’re going to the Earth Kingdom. We’re going to drop you off at one of the prisons there.”

Zuko’s eyes widened, the right one at least. The left one was permanently squinted shut by that angry scar on his face.

He said something again, this time quieter. Sokka frowned. “I don’t know if you’ve realized, but you have a gag on. I can’t understand you.”

Zuko rolled his eyes and lifted one hand as high as he could with the handcuffs on, motioning to the gag. Sokka stared at him.

“Are you crazy? You think I’m going to take that off so you can start breathing fire at me? No thanks, I’m outta here.”

Zuko yelled something else, but Sokka ignored him. He’d had enough of annoying princes for one day.

-----

Panic flooded through Zuko the moment he heard the water tribe boy say that they were going to the Earth Kingdom. Of course they were. Zuko’s luck had always been horrible. Lucky to be born, he thought bitterly.

The stupid gag prevented him from saying anything, and the idiot water tribe boy had refused to take it out. And now he’d be taken to a prison in the Earth Kingdom, where they’d crush his hands and put him in a dungeon so deep underground he’d never see the sun again. He shuddered at the thought. Even those few days in the cell at the Water Tribe had been terrible. He didn’t want to imagine how it would be if he was away from the sun for longer.

And he still didn’t know where Uncle was. What if Uncle was hurt? What if he was... no. Zuko forced his thoughts away from that, because Uncle was still alive. He had to be.

He didn’t know how long he sat in that cell, the floor rocking below him in a way that was familiar. After spending three years on a ship, a part of him was glad to be back on one.

But the dread was also building up, because he knew where this ship was going. And there was no way for him to escape.

He’d have to figure something out after he got off the ship. Then he could find Uncle, and figure out some way to start his search for the avatar again. Then he would go home.

He ignored the familiar ache in his chest, the homesickness and the craving to see the Fire Nation again. The only thing standing in his way was a child. A child who was on this very ship, so close, but impossible to reach.

The door opened again, and Zuko groaned. He really didn’t want to deal with the avatar or any of his friends again.

He glared at the newcomer, and narrowed his eyes when he saw that it wasn’t anyone familiar. It was an old man, maybe his uncle’s age, wearing water tribe clothing.

“Prince Zuko, isn’t it.” The man said it like a statement, not a question. Zuko scowled at him and said nothing. Not like he could anyways with the gag in his mouth.

The man sighed. “My name is Pakku. I am an old friend of your uncle’s.” Zuko’s eyes widened. This man knew his uncle? But how?

Pakku stepped forward and pulled the gag out of Zuko’s mouth. He opened his mouth to speak but coughed instead.

“How do you know Uncle?” Zuko croaked, his throat dry from the days without talking.

Pakku gave him a contemplating look, as if trying to decide how much to tell him. “We are old friends. Your uncle is safe, Prince Zuko, so do not worry.” Zuko closed his eyes in relief.

“Where is he?” he asked. 

“I helped him get to safety in the Earth Kingdom by providing him with a raft. He should be on his way there now.”

Zuko ducked his head down, trying to ignore the feeling of hurt in his chest. Apparently Uncle had left him. But that didn’t matter, he told himself firmly. At least he knew that Uncle was safe.

“The plan was that I would help you escape; however, I was not aware that you would be moved to the Earth Kingdom” Pakku said, frowning.

Zuko felt frustration build up in him. “So that’s it? You came here to tell me that I’m doomed? That there’s no way for me to escape?” Pakku gave him an annoyed look.

“I’m here to give you the messages your uncle left with me, and to tell you that the plan has changed. He told me to tell you that he had not abandoned you, and to meet him at Omashu.”

Uncle hadn’t abandoned him. Zuko should’ve known by now that Uncle would never do that, but he couldn’t help it.

“Instead of releasing you here, you will travel with the avatar to Omashu, where another one of our friends will help you from there, and reunite you with him.”

Relief flooded through Zuko, and he closed his eyes. Everything will be ok, he told himself firmly.

Chapter Text

Everything was decidedly not ok. Now that they were at the point where they’d separate from the Northern Tribe ship and make their way to the Earth Kingdom, Prince Jerkface had to be taken with them on Appa. The chief and Pakku made sure to give them all the necessary arrangements to make sure that Zuko wouldn’t be able to escape, though Pakku was acting strange, stranger than usual.

But Sokka quickly forgot about that when Pakku gave Aang and Katara cool presents and completely skipped over him. The nerve!

“Fly straight to the Earth Kingdom base to the east of here. General Fong will provide you with an escort to Omashu. There, you will be safe to begin your earthbending training with King Bumi,” Pakku said, and looked over at the prince, who was already tied up and handcuffed on Appa, glaring at everyone. “Do not leave the prince with General Fong. Leave him in Omashu, where King Bumi will deal with him.”

Aang nodded eagerly. “Ok,” he said. “Come on, let’s go!”

The three of them hopped onto Appa and waved at Pakku and the others on the ship. “Say hi to gran-gran from me!” Katara yelled, and they were off.

Zuko was surprisingly quiet and compliant throughout the trip, not even trying to talk through the gag in his mouth. He seemed calmer than he'd been last night, which worried Sokka. What if he was planning something?

“So we’re traveling with ponytail here until Omashu?” Sokka asked, motioning over to the prince. Zuko just glared at him.

“Yeah,” Katara said, giving Zuko a warning look. “He won’t be able to do anything to us, though.”

“Yup!” Aang said, and to Sokka’s horror, gave Zuko a wide smile. “Are you comfortable, Zuko?”

“Aang!” Sokka complained. “Don’t talk to enemy firebender princes!”

Zuko looked surprised for a moment before he scowled and jiggled his handcuffs in response. “Oh yeah, probably not. Well, it’s ok. At least you won’t freeze in the North Pole anymore.”

Zuko just rolled his eyes and said nothing.

The rest of the trip to General Fong’s base wasn’t too bad, mostly because they pretended that Zuko wasn’t there.

“There it is!” Sokka yelled after about an hour of flying, pointing down at what could only be an Earth Kingdom base.

They landed in the base, where there were a few soldiers and a man who was most likely General Fong.

“Welcome, Avatar Aang! I am General Fong, and welcome, to all of you great heroes! Appa, Momo, brave Sokka, the mighty Katara,” General Fong said, smiling brightly at them. Sokka immediately decided that he liked this guy. Brave Sokka was a great name!

Katara seemed to agree. “Mighty Katara? I like that!”

And then fireworks went off, set off by the earthbending soldiers. Sokka nodded, pleased. “Not bad,” he said.

He heard Zuko snort from where he was sitting atop Appa, and he turned to glare at him. He’d almost forgotten about the prince.

“What are we going to with Prince Jerkface up there?” Sokka asked, pointing up at Zuko. General Fong’s gaze travelled up, and his smile faltered. “Ah, yes. We had gotten word that you have a...special prisoner with you.”

“Yeah,” Aang said. “We’re taking him with us to Omashu. He’ll be put in a prison there.”

The general frowned, and looking back, Sokka realized that they should’ve known what was coming. “We will keep him in one of our cells until you are ready to depart. Take him,” he said, motioning to a couple of guards, who grabbed Zuko and dragged him away. Sokka watched as the prince struggled and yelled some muffled words and smirked.

The general turned to them with a smile. “Come with me, heroes! We can talk some more inside.”

When General Fong asked Aang to just go into the avatar state and defeat the firelord now, Sokka had to admit that it wasn’t a bad idea. He remembered what Aang had done at the North Pole. If he could do that, why couldn’t he defeat the firelord now?

But Katara wasn’t having it. “If you two meatheads want to destroy everything we’ve worked for, fine, go ahead and glow it up then!” She stormed out, leaving Sokka and Aang alone.

Sokka sighed. “She’ll get over it, Aang. But if you think this is the right way, then do it.”

The next couple of days were filled with failed attempts of getting Aang into the avatar state, and Sokka was quickly growing impatient. Apparently, so was General Fong, and that was when everything went downhill.

“Katara! No!” Sokka cried out when Katara was pulled underground. He tried to get to her, but his ostrich horse tripped, throwing him off and into one of the earth coins. He could only watch with horror as Katara disappeared.

“No!” he yelled, but his shouts were covered up by the roaring wind as Aang’s tattoos and eyes started to glow.

“It worked!” Fong looked delighted, only to have his smile disappear when Aang started towards him.

“Your friend is safe!” Fong yelled, and with a wave of his hand, Katara was brought back up.

“Katara!” Sokka yelled in relief when he saw her. She was fine. But Aang wasn’t. The entire compound was brought to rubble as he stayed in the avatar state, until, finally, he collapsed to the ground, back to his normal self.

They left as soon as possible. It was only a few hours later, while they were flying on Appa, when Aang suddenly sat upright and said “Zuko!”, that they realized they’d left him behind.

-----

Zuko was thrown into another cell, his third over the past week. He wanted to scream in frustration, to bang on the cell walls even though he knew no one would answer. The avatar would take him to Omashu, where he would be met by another one of his uncle’s friends. He just had to remain patient.

He’d been in this new cell for at least a couple of days, judging by the amount of food he’d been given. He sat cross legged in his cell and attempted to meditate. If he couldn’t actually firebend, that was the next best option. Plus, it would keep him from going insane from boredom.

He meditated until he heard a loud noise from outside. The ground rumbled beneath him. What was going on?!

The rumbling got louder and louder, and the entire roof of his cell began to collapse. Zuko's eyes widened, and he pressed himself to the wall, making himself as small as possible. He squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the rumbling to stop.

When the dust finally settled, he cautiously looked up. The entire building he had been in was collapsed, and pieces of rock and rubble were all around him.

He coughed and choked on the dust, checking himself for injuries. Nothing seemed to be seriously injured, though he did have some scrapes and bruises. What could have happened to bring the whole compound down? 

Something in the sky caught the corner of his eye, and he looked up, his mouth dropping open. The avatar and his bison!

“Avatar!” he yelled angrily. “You lying, deceiving little- you said you’d take me to Omashu!” But of course, they couldn’t hear him. And he could only watch helplessly as the bison became smaller and smaller before disappearing, taking his chance of finding his uncle with it.

He should've known better than to trust the avatar. He'd only ever had himself to rely on; why had he thought this would be any different?

He yanked on the shackles on his arms only once before they gave out, weakened by the falling rubble. He rubbed at his chafed wrists and sighed. He would escape and meet up with Uncle himself. He had to. He shuddered at the thought of what would happen to him now that the avatar was gone and Zuko didn't have his protection. He'd seen the way Fong had frowned when the avatar had told him that Zuko would be taken to Omashu. The man wanted Zuko all to himself. He didn't want to stick around long enough to find out why.  

Shouting sounded in the distance, and Zuko knew he had to act fast. He pushed pieces of rubble off of himself until he could finally get out, stumbling to his feet.  

The shouting grew louder. Zuko grit his teeth against the aching in his body and ran in the opposite direction, stumbling and tripping over rubble. He was too slow, muscles stiff from the days of sitting still.

"What do we have here?" Zuko's blood ran cold as a large hand grabbed his shoulder, turning him around so he was facing the owner. The man was big. He was really big. And his grip was like a vise, digging into Zuko's shoulder blades hard enough to make it hurt. 

Zuko glared up at him before summoning fire to his hands and shoving the man off of him. The man yelped and released him, and Zuko could only run. Fighting would be useless; he was at a huge disadvantage. There would definitely be other guards here soon, so his best chance was to just run for it. He ran towards the edge of the compound, he could make it, he was so close...

Until he ran headfirst into a wall of rock that had definitely not been there before. Pain flashed across his vision as he staggered back, clutching his head. His hand came back red. That wasn't good. Before he had any time to react, someone seized him, pulling his arms behind his back painfully. 

There were five guards in total, including the one who was holding him. The big man from before looked really angry. Zuko felt a twinge of satisfaction that quickly disappeared when he was hit in the face, hard enough to send him reeling backwards. "That was for burning me," the man sneered. Zuko glared at him. He hadn't even burned him! He'd barely singed his shirt. 

"I didn't even-" He was hit again, and this time he clenched his jaw and kept silent. 

"You thought you could escape, huh?" the man scoffed. "We'll take you to the General. He'll tell us what to do with you."

Zuko barely had time to feel any panic before he was shoved forward, trying not to show any sign of the pain he was in as he was forced to walk towards the crowd of people. In front of them was General Fong.

The man pushed him forward, forcing him to his knees in front of Fong. Zuko grit his teeth as his knees dug into the rubble.

"Found this little brat trying to escape," the man said, and Zuko tried not to flinch as his hand clamped on his shoulder. "What do you want us to do with him?"

Fong glanced over at Zuko, and a smile crept onto his face. A menacing smile that sent chills down Zuko’s spine.

“Ah, yes, the Prince of the Fire Nation. What shall we do with you?” He appeared to ponder it for a moment before smiling.

“Take him to the dungeons. And believe me, little prince. You’ll never see the light of day again.”

Zuko struggled to get away from the man's grip, panic flooding through him. This was the prison he'd heard from rumors, that he’d been fearing since he’d first gotten captured.

"You'll pay for this!" he yelled, only to be presented with another smack. His face throbbed. 

He was forced to his feet as the men dragged him. Whenever he stopped walking, they shoved him or smacked him hard enough to send him sprawling. The deeper underground they went, the colder he got. 

He was thrown into the cell and struggled as his wrists were shackled(again) and chained to the wall. "Let go of me!" he shouted, kicking and glaring and trying his best to be intimidating. It wasn't working. It didn't help that all of these people were so big. Were all Earth Kingdom soldiers like that?

"Shut up, ashmaker," one of the guards sneered. They left him alone after that. The shackles dug into his already chafed wrists and his body ached from the rough handling of the guards. His head throbbed, making him slightly dizzy. He really hoped he didn't have a concussion. 

But he could handle pain. He’d been through worse before. And Uncle would figure out where he was. Right?

He knew that it was a false hope. He was supposed to be traveling with the avatar towards Omashu right now. No one would even know he was missing until they arrived there, which would probably be in at least a couple of weeks, judging by the knowledge he had of Earth Kingdom geography.

So he just had to suck it up for a couple of weeks until his uncle could be notified. He knew that there was no chance that he could escape by himself right now, chained to the wall and surrounded by guards.

He sat there shivering for what felt like hours, his stomach gnawing at him with emptiness, until the door finally opened. General Fong stood there, holding what looked like a piece of paper in his hand. He looked furious.

“Looks like you’re no use to us at all, Prince Zuko,” he sighed. “Or should I say, traitor to the Fire Nation?”

Zuko stared at him blankly, uncomprehending. “I’m the prince!” he shouted, anger erupting through him. How dare this Earth Kingdom man pretend he knew Zuko? “I’m the son of Lady Ursa and Firelord Ozai! I’m not a traitor, I would never!”

The general looked startled, and then a smile slowly spread across his face. “You don’t know,” he said slowly. Zuko glared at him. “Know what?” he demanded.

The general dropped the paper he had in his hand on the ground next to Zuko, who picked it up. And stared at it numbly.

It was a wanted poster. A picture of him and Uncle. “No,” he whispered. He threw the poster back at Fong. “You’re lying!” he yelled. “Father would never…” But deep down, he knew that he would.

It said kill without hesitation. Why would Father do that? It must be because Zuko had done something wrong, right? Just like when he’d been banished. He always managed to screw everything up.

Fong just looked irritated now. “Why would I lie about that?” he said. “I would have thought that having the son of the firelord as our prisoner would be great incentive for him to cooperate with us, but apparently not.”

Zuko snarled and tried to lunge forward. If he hadn't been chained to the wall, Fong would've been on fire by now. Fong rolled his eyes.

“Fire Nation traitors cut off their hair, don’t they?” He motioned towards one of the guards beside him. “Cut it off.”

Zuko struggled when the guard grabbed his hair. "Stay still unless you want me to cut you instead," the guard hissed. Zuko glared but went still. Getting injured more than he already was wouldn't help his chances of escape. But even that knowledge didn't keep his breath from hitching when he felt the familiar weight of his phoenix tail disappearing. It felt like something final, like he had officially lost what little honor he had left. Why had this happened? Why had Father declared him a traitor? Why had he gotten himself captured? He could've done more, he could've escaped...

“You may still be useful to us,” Fong said, snapping Zuko out of his spiraling thoughts. “Even if you can’t be used as ransom, you must have information about the Fire Nation army and tactics.”

Zuko glared at him and set his jaw. “I’ll never tell you anything,” he hissed. Not that he knew much about recent Fire Nation army news. He hadn’t been in his home country for almost three years, after all. And he’d been only thirteen when he’d left, too young to learn much about the military. He was pretty sure that almost everything he knew, these people knew as well.

Fong smiled, showing his teeth. “Willingly, maybe not. But you will soon enough.” He waved a hand at the two guards beside him. “Do what you will with him.”

Zuko's eyes widened as Fong exited the cell and the two guards closed in on him. "What are you going to do to me?" he demanded, trying to keep his voice from shaking. He wasn't afraid. He was not afraid. 

"Whatever it takes for you to talk," one of the guards jeered.  

After what felt like hours of useless torture and questions he didn't know the answers to, Zuko sat alone in his cell, vibrating in anger and frustration. Everything hurt. It hurt to breathe, and he was pretty sure his ribs were cracked. It hurt to even move.  

He reached a shaking hand up to his mouth to wipe away the blood that had begun to drip down his face from the many times he’d been hit. How was he supposed to know what their military’s best tactics were in the battlefield? He wasn't a soldier. And no matter how many times he told them that he didn’t know anything, they didn’t believe him. It was so frustrating. Why couldn't they just believe him? It wasn't like he was any position to lie right now. 

He took a deep breath, wincing slightly as his ribs throbbed. He could take the pain. He could take the hunger. He could take the cold. But the darkness, the lack of sunlight...

He flinched as the door opened again, raising his head wearily. It was one of the guards. The big one who had captured him.

He managed a glare even as his insides twisted with fear. “I don’t know anything,” he spat, pressing himself to the wall at the corner of the cell, as physically far away as he could be from the door. As if that would help. 

The man smirked and slowly entered the cell, closing the door gently behind him. Zuko watched him warily and held his chin up high. Were they really going to torture him again so soon? Well, it didn't matter. He hadn't screamed before, and he wasn't going to now. He would never give them the satisfaction. 

The man took a step towards him, and Zuko flinched back involuntarily. “I don’t care what you do or don’t know,” he purred, stumbling forward. Zuko scowled. He was obviously drunk.

“Leave me alone then,” he snapped, turning his face away. 

The man’s smile vanished, replaced by a predatory look that made Zuko shiver.

“Fong said we could do anything we want with you,” he sneered, moving closer until he was right in front of Zuko, standing above him. Zuko scowled up at him, trying to hide his fear.

"What do you want?" he demanded, and despite his best efforts his voice still shook slightly.

The man's eyes darkened, and suddenly he was on top of Zuko, pushing him to the ground.

“Let me go!” Zuko yelled, breath hitching in panic as he struggled to free himself. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t happening.

The man slapped him across the right side of his face, and Zuko’s head snapped to the side. Then he reached out and gently caressed his scar, so gently that it made Zuko want to throw up. 

“What a shame,” he sighed. “You would’ve been so pretty if it wasn’t for this.”

“Stop,” Zuko wheezed, because the man’s grip around his throat was too tight and he couldn’t breath.

The man ran his fingers over the light fuzz on Zuko’s head.

“You’ll do what I tell you, won’t you?” the man said, still caressing Zuko’s face.

Zuko snarled and tried to bite at his fingers. “Never,” he growled. The man pulled his hand away, a disgusted look on his face.

“You’re a prisoner here, prince. I can do whatever I want with you.” He smiled and leaned forward to catch Zuko’s lips on his own. Zuko recoiled back as far as he could, but the man’s grip on him tightened. He was hungry and tired and injured, too weak. Too weak to fight back. He was always too weak.

The man slowly slid Zuko’s pants off, and he still tried to fight back. He wasn’t resigned to what was going to happen yet.

“Don’t touch me!” Zuko yelled. “I’ll tell Fong!”

The man laughed. “Fong won’t care, little prince,” he said, a dark gleam in his eyes.

Zuko didn’t remember much of it when it was over. He remembered the pain. He remembered his own voice, pleading and crying and doing all the things he’d vowed never to do again. He remembered the man’s grunts and moans, the dirty words he whispered in Zuko’s ear.

He remembered the tears that poured down his cheeks involuntarily as the man had finished.

“Aww, is the little prince crying?” the man teased, reaching out to wipe a single tear away. Zuko curled up into a ball and said nothing. 

The man left as quietly as he had come, and Zuko was left staring at the door blankly, unable to feel much of anything except pain. He squeezed his eyes shut. Maybe when he opened them, he would be back in the Fire Nation palace, or back on the ship with Uncle and his tea and proverbs that Zuko always complained about but would now do anything to hear. 

Three...two....one. He opened his eyes to nothing but darkness and pain and the feeling of the cold, hard ground beneath him. He was all alone. Maybe he'd always been alone.

He tried to move, to pick himself up off the floor and at least try to act dignified for whenever they decided to visit him next. But he couldn't move. He was frozen, unable to do anything except stare at the door. 

It took a few minutes for the full weight of what had just happened to him to sink in. How...how could he have let that happen? Why didn't he fight harder? Why...

Zuko buried his head in between his knees as his tears began to fall again. 

Chapter Text

He pushed his ostrich horse forward, making his way to the path that would lead to Omashu. He’d gotten money from performing in a village, and had used some of it for supplies and the rest for the horse. He was so close, so close to seeing his beloved nephew again. He hoped that Zuko was ok, that his time in captivity hadn’t shaken him too much. But Iroh knew his nephew. He knew how strong and brave he was, how he would never give up no matter how much life pushed him down. He had no doubt that Zuko would push through this as well.

It was morning when Iroh reached the outskirts of Omashu, and relief flooded through him. It was quickly replaced by horror when he caught sight of the Fire Nation flag that hung in front of the walls. Omashu had been conquered.

Iroh closed his eyes in despair. Omashu had been one of the Earth Kingdom’s greatest strongholds. Now that it was gone, the only main Earth Kingdom city left was Ba Sing Se.

Surely, once the Avatar had seen that Omashu had been conquered, they had gone elsewhere with Zuko. Maybe to another Earth Kingdom town to find an earthbending teacher. Or maybe even to Ba Sing Se.

He caught a flash of white in the corner of his vision and looked up, gasping when he saw the Avatar’s bison, flying away from Omashu. That was where Zuko was.

He mounted his ostrich horse once again and set off in the direction of the bison.

-----

Omashu was a bust. They went all the way there only to find out that the Fire Nation had already taken it, and that King Bumi couldn’t be Aang’s earthbending teacher.

And then they’d been met by three girls, all three scary and powerful. One of them shot blue fire. Sokka had never seen anything like that before. And then there was knife girl, and another girl who could do something to people’s bending. She was the one who scared him the most. If she could incapacitate Katara, the strongest waterbender he knew, who knew what else she could do?

The blue fire girl looked strangely familiar, though. He voiced the thought to Aang and Katara, who both just shrugged.

“Oh!” Sokka snapped his fingers. “She looks like Zuko!” The others fell silent at the mention of Zuko, and Sokka felt the slightest twinge of guilt which he tried to push away. Annoying firebender princes didn’t deserve his guilt! But even so, he was uncomfortable with the fact that they’d left a prisoner of war with a psychopathic general. Even if that prisoner was Zuko.

He knew that Katara and Aang felt guilty too, though Aang was taking it the hardest. He’d tried to convince them to turn back when they’d first realized that they’d left Zuko, but Sokka and Katara had managed to talk him down. There was no way they’d have the time to return all the way back to General Fong’s base and then to Omashu.

“You’re right,” Katara said after a moment. “She kinda looks like a female version of Zuko, if he didn’t have the scar. Maybe they’re related somehow?”

Even thinking about the prospect of having another member of the Fire Nation royal family after them made Sokka shudder. “Let’s hope not.”

Though they didn’t see those three girls for a while after that, it still wasn’t very fun. The swamp had been terrible, and Sokka knew that he’d be tasting swamp water in his mouth for weeks to come.

Of course, there had been some good things. A really good thing, actually. Toph was small in size but packed a great punch. Overall, the perfect addition to their little team. The only disadvantage was how often her and Katara clashed over the stupidest reasons.

It only went downhill from there, when Toph woke them all up in the middle of the night, yelling that someone was following them.

After hours of this, Sokka was so exhausted he could barely keep his eyes open. Judging by everyone else’s expressions, they all felt the same way. And of course the people in the tank were the three scary girls from Omashu. Because that was just their luck.

And then Toph and Katara got into another big argument that led to Toph storming off, despite Sokka’s attempt to stop her.

“I can’t believe I yelled at my earthbending teacher!” Aang moaned.

Katara looked regretful too. “We’re all just getting used to each other. And I was so mean to her.”

Sokka had to agree with that. “Yeah, you two were pretty much jerks.”

Katara and Aang both glared at him, and he shrugged. It’s not like he was wrong.

And it turned out Toph was right. Appa’s fur was the thing that had led the girls to them. After they washed Appa and separated, he and Katara continued on while Aang took his glider and made his own fur path as a distraction.

But somehow, the girl with the knives and the pink girl found them.

“How did they find us?” Katara yelled. Sokka shook his head, as much at a loss as she was.

“Come on Appa, we need to go faster!” he urged.

“He’s too tired!”

They made it across the river, only to find out that the things the girls were riding could walk on water. Because of course they could.

But Appa, good old Appa, threw them across the river and saved them.

Sokka and Katara quickly got on Appa and flew back, following the fur trail that Aang had left. It led them to an abandoned village and a new fight.

“Katara! Sokka!” Aang yelled when he saw them, a wide smile on his face.

He was fighting blue fire girl, who was scarily good, the best firebending Sokka had ever seen.

Suddenly, the ground beneath blue fire girl shifted, and she fell over.

“I thought you guys could use a little help,” came Toph’s voice from the side. Sokka pumped his fists. This girl was screwed now!

The girl got to her feet and surveyed her opponents, before apparently realizing that she was outmatched. She ran through the alley, only to be stopped by… who was that? Sokka squinted, and his mouth dropped open. It was the old man who had been traveling with Zuko. What was he doing here?

But now wasn’t the time for conversations. The four of them and the old man surrounded blue fire girl, who only smiled and raised her hands.

“You got me. A princess surrenders with honor.”

Princess? So this girl was related to Zuko in some way.

Before any of them could react, the girl smirked and pointed two fingers at the old man, who screamed as he collapsed to the ground. Sokka stared in horror before directing his glare towards the girl. Had she killed him?

As if they had all thought of it at the same time, Katara, Aang, and Toph all bended their elements towards the girl, and Sokka threw his boomerang.

There was an explosion, and when they looked up, the girl was gone. Vanished without a trace.

“We have to help him!” Toph cried. “Katara! Heal him!”

Katara hesitated for a moment, staring at the old man.

“What are you doing?” Toph screamed. “Help him!”

Sokka frowned. Toph was acting like she...knew this man. But how could she? He was an enemy, a firebender who had helped Zuko. But seeing him on the ground like that, gravely injured, gave him a small pang.

“Toph, this was the man who was traveling with Zuko,” Katara said softly, giving Sokka a helpless look. “He’s a firebender.”

Toph’s eyes widened for a moment before she stomped her foot. “I don’t care. We need to help him.”

Aang was looking down at the man worriedly. “Toph’s right. We can’t turn our back on anyone who needs us.” That seemed to have spurred Katara into action.

She quickly kneeled beside the man and bent the water from her pouch, healing him.

“He’s an enemy!” Sokka protested. but only half heartedly. He remembered how this man had helped them at the North Pole, but he also remembered the many times he’d failed to stop Zuko from attacking them. Maybe that was why he was here. Maybe he was looking for Zuko.

They spent the night there, setting up camp and falling asleep instantly.

Chapter Text

He didn’t know how long he’d been here. The only indication of time passing at all was the slow growth of his hair, which was now more than just fuzz on top of his head. Still too short to be pulled into a topknot, but longer than it had been when he’d first been imprisoned.

But he knew for sure that it had been longer than two weeks. Which meant that Uncle wasn’t coming. That no one was coming.

They hadn’t crushed his hands, but they had broken his fingers, and then set them just to break them again. He didn’t even know how often they fed him. Sometimes it felt like he’d gone days without food before it would finally show up in the slot, while other times it felt like he’d just eaten when he got more. Not like they gave him much to begin with. He was always hungry.

They were trying to keep him disoriented, he knew. Keep him from knowing the time of day, or how long he’d been here. The worst part was, it was working. He couldn’t feel the sun. He had no idea when it was day or night, which unnerved him. As a firebender, he’d always had an internal sense of the sun, waking up at dawn automatically every morning. Now it was gone.

He never knew when they would come, which only made the anticipation worse. He didn't understand why they didn't just give up, because they had to know by now that he had no useful information. He hadn't at the beginning. Still didn't now. And probably never would, considering he was stuck down here and would probably be here until he died(even the thought of this being the rest of his life sent a blind terror through him unlike anything he'd ever felt before, and he had to pull his thoughts away from that direction, from the nightmare that was his life). 

He jerked in his chains as the door was pushed open and had to hold back a shiver when he saw who it was. 

"Look at me," the big guard said, after he'd finished and Zuko's body trembled from the pain and exertion. When Zuko refused to look up, the guard grabbed his hair and yanked his head up, jerking him forward. His shackles rattled. Zuko grit his teeth against the pain and glared as best as he could in his position. He'd stopped crying or begging a long time ago. It never stopped anything, so what was the point?

"There we go," the guard smirked, patting the unscarred side of his face. Zuko couldn't hide the shudder of disgust that ran through him. He hadn't given up. He still tried to fight back. Never give up without a fight. But it was getting harder and harder with each passing day, with each torture session and each visit from the big guard. And now, with every part of his body in pain(it was always worse when he fought back), he wondered if there was any point. 

"I'll be back soon, pretty boy." He released Zuko, letting him drop back onto the cold, hard ground. "Try not to forget about me, hm?" His laugh echoed around the cell as he slammed the door shut behind him.

Slowly, Zuko came back to himself, piece by piece. He wondered if one day he just wouldn't be able to do that anymore. It seemed to take longer and longer each time, like his mind just didn't want to return to reality. 

He struggled to sit up, wincing as his ribs screamed in protest. It felt like the pain would never end. His ribs ached, the bruises covering his skin hurt. It was so cold, he felt like he would never feel warm again. He was sure the only reason he was still alive was because he still had his breath of fire, however weak it was. But he could feel his inner fire fading away slowly, and he was sure that he wouldn’t be able to take much more of this. He slowly ran his fingers over his arm, where there were still healing cuts from when they had tortured him, cutting his skin open with knives. They'd tried many different ways to extract information from him. It might've actually worked; sometimes, when the pain became too much, he was sure he would've said anything to make it stop. Only problem was, he didn't actually have any information they wanted. 

He managed to sit up and crawled over to the corner, propping himself against the wall. He could feel the new bruises throbbing on his hips, from where he'd been held down and used and...

He shivered and hugged his knees to his chest, squeezing his eyes shut. Forcing himself to think of something else, anything else. He had nothing else to do, besides sit here and starve and wait for the next visit from his torturers. He spent most of his time sleeping, dozing off whenever he was too tired to keep his eyes open. Which was happening more and more often, because he didn't have anything else to do. At least when he was asleep, sometimes his dreams would take him away from the darkness and let him feel the sun, let him see his uncle. Of course, until he woke up and realized that he was still in hell. 

It was almost getting to the point where the boredom was worse than the actual torture. At least the torture was something familiar(the fact that this was what had become familiar to him was almost enough to make him want to laugh). But the time in between...whenever he was awake, there was always the feeling of dread and anxiety, knowing that they would come at any time, without warning, and he would be tortured again. That he was helpless to whatever they decided to do to him this time. Or that he'd look up and it would be the big guard again, with his teasing smirk and sadistic gaze that always froze Zuko into place...

He wrenched his thoughts away from that, because dwelling on any of that never went well for him. 

But something was different this time. Something...he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was. Probably didn't matter anyways. Nothing really mattered much here. 

And then he realized. He'd never heard the familiar sound of the lock turning after the big guard left. Zuko’s eyes snapped open, and he stared at the door. The guard had always made sure to lock the door behind him after he finished, but today he’d been careless. A cautious hope started to build up. Could he actually...?

He'd already learned that trying to escape was useless. He'd tried it once, after the first couple weeks of endless pain and hunger, after realizing that no one was coming for him and he was on his own(had he really expected anything else?). They had thought he was too weak from starvation and his injuries to fight back, so they only sent one guard to unshackle him, to let him do his business as they did once a day. They'd been wrong. 

He shoved away the memories of the punishment he'd received after that attempt. He'd barely been able to move for days after. Apparently he'd pissed them off enough for Fong himself to show up. In any other situation, that would have brought him some kind of satisfaction. Not in this one. After that, they never removed his shackles again. Fong showed up more frequently, with at least three guards, every time he decided to have another interrogation session. 

But now he had another chance. A small one, because there was a possibility he'd just missed the turning of the lock. Which meant he only had one shot. If he messed this up, if he was wrong...he had no doubt Fong would make sure he never got another opportunity.  

He stared at the door and then down at the metal shackles surrounding his wrists. They were big and heavy, digging into the raw skin of his wrists, causing a constant dull ache that he'd gotten used to over the past...however long he'd been here. There had to be a way to get them off.

He jiggled them uselessly, glaring down at his hands. He'd never been good at thinking of plans. He never thought things through, as Uncle always said(he ignored the pang in his chest at the thought of Uncle). A small, fragment of a plan began to form in his head.

He knew that no one would be around right now, not at this time. After his first escape attempt, he had started to observe the guarding schedule. The big guard only ever came in when there was no one else around, he'd discovered. When he was chained up, they obviously thought that it would be impossible for him to escape. He could take advantage of that. 

He closed his eyes and began heating up his hand. It was difficult, more difficult than it had ever been before. He’d gone too long without the sun.

He gritted his teeth as the metal shackles began heating up too, the way he knew they were intended to. That was why he had never tried to do this before. But now he had a chance, a chance he’d never had before. He had to do this. He knew it was possible to burn through the chains, if he could make his fire hot enough. If he could handle the pain. 

So he took a deep breath and heated his hand up more, clenching his jaw so hard it felt like it was about to snap. The pain wasn’t as bad as the burn on his face had been, not even close. Nothing would ever be as painful as that had been. He could handle it.  

After a few moments, his clothes were drenched in sweat from the effort and his hands trembled, but he knew he couldn’t give up now. Not when he was so close. The scent of burning flesh filled his nostrils, and he squeezed his eyes shut to fight off the memories.

Finally, after what felt like hours, the shackles were off. He was almost free. 

He stumbled to his feet, leaning heavily against the wall as he tried to ground himself. He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling his legs trembling with pain and exhaustion. Don’t pass out, don’t pass out, he ordered himself. 

After the world stopped swimming in front of him, he staggered over to the door and took a deep breath, because if it wasn't unlocked, all of this would've been for nothing and he was sure his punishment would be worse than it had been last time. He pushed on it cautiously, and when it opened, he felt a wave of relief so intense it made him dizzy. He was doing it. He was actually doing it. The guards had underestimated him again, like everyone always did. For once, it was in his advantage.

His cell was on top of a large chasm, and he could hear running water coming from somewhere. Zuko peered down, catching a glimpse of water below in the chasm.

If there was running water, there had to be a way out from there. Zuko had never really been one to think before he acted.

He jumped into the chasm, closing his eyes as he made impact with freezing cold water, so cold it knocked the breath out of him. Immediately, panic began to bubble up in him as he flashed back to the North Pole, when he was trapped underwater and was so sure he was going to drown. And only a few days ago, when the guards had forced his head into a bucket of water and kept it there even as he struggled and he couldn’t breath…

No. He couldn’t allow stupid fears to make him weak. He had to get over them so he could escape.

He took a deep breath and started swimming. His heart sank when he saw that the current only led the water deeper down, down somewhere he didn’t want to go. He had to swim against the current.

Luckily, the current wasn’t too strong, and he could swim through it without much effort. He'd always been a strong swimmer. But he was weak from his time in imprisonment, arms shaking with exhaustion and head spinning. 

He somehow managed to force himself onward, motivated by the fact that escape was so close. He couldn't stop now. He wasn't going to give up, not when he was so close. 

Finally, after what felt like hours of swimming and forcing his body to move when it didn't want to, he caught sight of something bright up ahead. Sunlight. He began to swim faster, ignoring the protest from his tired muscles. 

Light. Warmth. The green trees, the gray rocks, the blue sky. He was free. He hoisted himself up onto the riverbank with rubbery arms which soon gave out. He collapsed onto the ground on his back, staring up at the beautiful, cloudless sky. The sun was blinding, after so long in the suffocating darkness, and it brought tears to his eyes.

An incredulous giggle escaped his mouth, and soon he was shaking with hysterical laughter, unable to stop it. He wondered vaguely if he'd gone crazy and quickly dismissed that idea, because it didn't matter. All that mattered was that he was out. He was free. Against all the odds, after everything he’d been through, he’d managed to escape. He didn’t even notice the tears that were trickling down his cheeks until one dripped onto his arm, and he stared at it with a mild shock, because why was he crying? He should be happy. He was free.

Zuko just lay there on the ground, unable to bring himself to move, feeling the warmth on his entire sore, tired body. A gentle breeze ruffled his hair. He dug his fingers into the dirt below, touching something other than cold stone after so, so long. He sighed in content, closing his eyes and tilting his face up towards the sun. He could feel the sun's rays replenishing his inner fire slowly, bit by bit. Any longer underground and it might've disappeared for good. He'd made it out just in time. 

After his initial giddiness, however, he realized that he was still in plain sight of anyone who walked by. What if Fong and his soldiers had already realized that he was missing? His entire body ached, shaking with fatigue, and it took more effort than it should have for him to struggle to his feet.  

Spirits, he was exhausted. He didn’t think he’d ever been so exhausted in his life. Or maybe he had been but he couldn't remember it right now because he was just so tired. 

He stumbled forward, ignoring the protest from his...everything, and scanned his surroundings. He was right beside the river, and when he peered back the way he’d come, he saw it flowing down. It was an underground river, which had happened to pass by where his cell had been. Zuko scowled and turned away when he saw the wall that surrounded Fong’s base too, a little less than a mile from where he was. He must have swam that distance away from it, though it had felt like he'd been swimming for much longer. He was still too close. He had to get away. 

But besides that, he didn’t see any other kind of civilization. From what he remembered of Earth Kingdom geography, General Fong’s base was the farthest to the west of the Earth Kingdom. It made sense that there were no villages surrounding it. 

That meant he had to travel east to get to the nearest village. He had no time to lose. He had to keep moving. Zuko could be impulsive, he'd admit that, but he wasn’t dumb. He knew that the moment Fong or any of his men found him, they’d bring him back to the prison. A shiver ran down his spine just at the thought of it. He couldn't go back. Not so soon after escaping. He didn't even want to imagine what Fong would do to him if he was caught again.

Or maybe they’d decide that he was causing more trouble than he was worth and just kill him on the spot. Which honestly seemed more likely at this point, considering he'd been down there for a while and hadn't been useful to them in any way. With no information or ransom, they'd have no reason to keep him alive. 

He glanced up at the sun and quickly determined which way east was, in the direction away from the river. He shut his eyes, steeling himself, before he started walking.

Chapter Text

“Morning, Sokka!” Sokka blearily opened his eyes and glared at Aang’s cheerful face. How could he be so happy so early in the morning?

Katara was up too, making breakfast. “Finally you’re awake, sleepyhead,” she teased when she taught sight of Sokka.

“Are we finally leaving?” Sokka mumbled, still half asleep. Aang’s smile disappeared. “We can’t. He’s still not awake.”

The old man still hadn’t woken up. It had been a full day since he had been hit by the princess, and he still wasn’t awake.

And Aang, being Aang, refused to leave without making sure he was alright. Toph had quickly agreed, which only deepened Sokka’s suspicion that she knew him somehow.

Sokka groaned and sat up in his sleeping bag, peering over at the tent where he knew the man was laying. They’d agreed to make sure that one of them was watching him at all times, and since Toph was nowhere to be seen, he assumed it was her turn.

“Toph said that she can start teaching me earthbending today!” Aang said, his excited smile back on his face.

“That’s great, Aang!” Katara smiled, handing him a bowl. She turned around and handed one to Sokka too, who accepted it grudgingly. “I still say we should leave,” he grumbled. “You healed him, and he’s a powerful firebender. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

Katara gave him an annoyed look. “We’re not leaving him,” she said firmly. “Don’t you remember how he helped us at the North Pole? We owe him at least this.”

Sokka took a bite of his food, rolling his eyes. Just yesterday, Katara had been on his side about this. Now, she seemed to have changed her mind. He suspected he knew exactly why as he watched her smile at Aang.

But she was also right. This man had helped them, and he had never tried to hurt them before, even when Zuko had been chasing them. He’d kinda just been on the sidelines, watching.

He opened his mouth to say something else, but was interrupted by Toph’s shout. “Guys, he’s awake!”

Aang set down his bowl and rushed to the tent, Katara at his heels. Sokka hesitated before sighing and following after them.

The old man was sitting up, a grimace of pain on his face. “Are you feeling ok?” Katara asked urgently. The man smiled despite his obvious pain and raised a hand. “You have done more than enough to help me. Thank you.”

“No, thank you,” Aang spoke up. Sokka fought the urge to slap a hand against his forehead. “You helped us in the North Pole and against the girl yesterday, even though you were traveling with Zuko.”

The man grimaced again. “Yes, my niece is not the kindest person.”

Sokka perked up at that. “Your niece?” he asked. The man turned to him with a sad smile. “Yes, my niece Princess Azula,” he said. “Sister to my nephew, Prince Zuko.”

Toph frowned. “Hold up. So the ponytail freak who chased my friends around the world is your nephew?”

The man smiled a little. “Yes, Prince Zuko is my nephew.” He looked around the room, his smile slowly fading. “Where is he? I had assumed that he would be with you.”

Nothing but silence met his question, and Sokka felt that twinge of guilt again. “He’s not with us,” he said quietly. “We left him at General Fong’s base.”

The man’s eyes widened, and there was a horrible silence for a few moments. “I see,” he said finally, his voice quivering only the tiniest bit. “May I ask why?”

“I’m sorry!” Aang cried. “It was my fault. General Fong wanted me to go into the avatar state, and I said no, and then he started attacking me and Katara. We stopped him, but we had to leave for Omashu right away. It was only after that we realized we left Zuko!”

There was more silence, for longer this time. The man sighed heavily. “I understand. It is of no fault of yours.” He closed his eyes. “General Fong, you say?” Aang nodded, watching him anxiously. “He has a reputation preceding him, which I am sure you now know.” Sokka shifted uncomfortably, hating the guilt he felt.

Katara looked stricken. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “We shouldn’t have left him there.”

The old man shook his head. “No need to apologize,” he said, though there was unbearable worry and sadness in his eyes.

Sokka sighed. “I’m sure he’s fine,” he said. “As much as I hate to admit it, Zuko’s tough. I think he’ll survive.”

The old man looked over at him with a sad smile. “I hope you are right,” he said. And a small part of Sokka hoped that too. Even though Zuko was an enemy and really annoying, Sokka didn’t want to see him dead. Especially if it was partly their fault.

After a bit of discussion, it was decided that they’d travel with the man until he could meet up with an old friend at a place called the Misty Palms Oasis. Apparently that friend would be able to help him find a way to get back to Zuko.

“Hey, what’s your name anyways?” Toph asked. “You never told us.”

The old man smiled. “You can call me Iroh.” The name didn’t sound familiar to Sokka, but Toph spit out her drink. “Iroh?” she sputtered. “Like the Firelord’s brother Iroh? The Dragon of the West?”

Sokka stared at the man in horror. The Firelord’s brother? He knew that this man was Zuko’s uncle, but he’d assumed it was from his mother’s side, not his father’s! And he’d almost begun to trust him!

“What?” Katara demanded, apparently just as furious as Sokka. “You’re the Firelord’s brother?”

Iroh nodded sadly. “I know that you have reason not to trust me,” he began, and Sokka glared at him.

“Yeah, we have reason!” he yelled. “You’re the brother of the most evil man in the world!”

Aang had been strangely quiet till then, but he finally spoke up. “Let him finish, Sokka,” he said, looking at the man.

Iroh nodded at him gratefully. “Thank you. Yes, Firelord Ozai is my brother, but I had renounced his ideals a long time ago, since my failed attempt at capturing Ba Sing Se. Since...since the death of my son.” His voice got heavier.

Sokka couldn’t help but feel sympathy for the old man, looking at how sad he looked. But still…

“So that’s why you never stopped Zuko from trying to capture Aang. You’ve been on his side all along!” Sokka accused.

Iroh hung his head. “My nephew...is a troubled young man,” he said, sighing. “He has been through much. I never approved of his search for the Avatar, yet I could not do anything to stop him. Nothing can stop Zuko when he is determined.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Sokka muttered, and Iroh smiled slightly.

“I promise you I will bring no harm to you. The only goal I have in mind is finding my nephew. I plead you to permit me to accompany you, only until I reach the Misty Palms Oasis. But I will understand if you want to refuse me,” Iroh said.

Sokka looked at his friends. Toph looked like she was on the verge of agreeing, and so was Aang. Ok, that was it.

“Guys. Outside,” Sokka said firmly, grabbing Aang and Toph’s arms.

“He’s the Firelord’s brother,” Sokka argued.

“He said he renounced those values!” Toph argued back. “We should help him.”

“Yeah,” Aang agreed. “It’s our fault Zuko’s not here right now. The least we could do is help Iroh get back to him.”

“Katara!” Sokka pleaded, turning to his sister. “Tell them!”

Katara looked hesitant, but then sighed. “Aang and Toph are right. We should help him.” Sokka threw his hands up, groaning. Of course.

They set off towards the Oasis, until Aang saw an area that looked good for earthbending and stopped them there for camp.

That day didn’t end too well either. Sokka ended up trapped in a hole for hours, alone until Aang had found him, fought off a large moose-lion, and finally learned how to earthbend.

A few days later, they were at the Oasis, which looked nothing like the description on the map.

“Must have changed ownership since I was last here,” Aang said sheepishly, shrugging.

Sokka sighed and pointed at one of the small taverns. “Maybe they have food or something in there,” he said, eyes brightening at the thought. At least that would make this whole stupid trip worth it.

But Iroh’s gaze was on another one of the buildings. “You all go in,” he said. “I will find you later.”

“Bye!” Toph said, and entered the tavern in front of them. Sokka followed her, and wrinkled in his nose in disgust. It was a small run down tavern filled with weary travelers.

“One mango, please,” they heard a man say, and Sokka’s mouth dropped open as the bartender used two swords to cut the mango and make a drink.

“Let’s get those!” Sokka said eagerly.

Aang bumped into the guy with the drink, and that set off a whole other conversation.

Sokka leaned forward eagerly when the professor began talking about the library in the middle of the desert, the one that had all the information they would need about the Fire Nation.

And so they decided to go there. “Let’s go get Iroh,” Aang reminded them.

Iroh was sitting in the tavern when they entered. “Where’s your friend?” Sokka asked. Iroh smiled secretively, looking the most cheerful Sokka had seen him since he’d first found out about Zuko. “My meeting went well,” he said. “I have found out crucial information about my nephew. It seems he has managed to escape from General Fong’s base.”

Sokka stared. “Zuko escaped?” Katara asked, shocked. Of course he had. Sokka had learned a long time ago to not underestimate Zuko. He couldn’t help but be secretly impressed by the guy.

Iroh inclined his head. “Yes. I have procured passports to Ba Sing Se for the two of us. Will you be joining us there?”

They all exchanged a glance. “Actually, not right now,” Aang said. “We’re going-”

“-to get more supplies!” Sokka finished quickly. Even though this guy was nice, he was still from the Fire Nation. A part of the Fire Nation’s royal family.

Toph frowned, but Sokka ignored her. If Iroh knew they were lying, he didn’t show it. He just nodded. “I suppose this is where we part ways. Thank you for allowing me to travel with you.”

“Bye, Iroh,” Aang said with a smile. Toph grinned at the old man and punched him lightly in the shoulder. “Find your nephew and then find us, ok?” Iroh smiled.

“I hope we’ll meet again,” Katara said genuinely, because they’d all grown close to the wise, kind old man over the weeks they’d been traveling together. Even Sokka had to admit he’d miss him, even if Iroh spent most of his time either drinking tea or talking about his nephew. The tea part wasn’t too bad, but Sokka really didn’t want to hear more about the angry jerk than he had to. But it was so obvious that Iroh missed his nephew and worried about him, and Sokka knew that it was their fault that Zuko wasn’t here. Even though Sokka didn’t understand how such a kind man could love a guy like Zuko, he and the others painfully endured Iroh’s gushing about what a gentle, sweet child Zuko had been(if that was even possible), and about how he was a prodigy at sword fighting(even though Sokka had never seen him with swords before), and about how much he loved reading and watching plays(imagining Zuko as a theater nerd was kind of funny).

“Yeah, yeah, goodbyes,” Sokka muttered, and Iroh chuckled. “Did I ever tell you that you remind me of my nephew sometimes?” he said.

Sokka snorted. “I remind you of Zuko? No thanks.”

Iroh just laughed again, and then they were on their way to the library, away from Iroh for now.

Chapter Text

He watched as the group of children flew away on their bison, chuckling softly to himself. They were all so kind, so brave, yet also so young. He wished he could stay with them for longer.

But now, he had to focus his efforts on finding one particular boy. 

He had found out from another White Lotus member, Fung, that General Fong had sent out word that Prince Zuko had escaped his custody only a few days ago, and to apprehend him at all costs. He dearly hoped that Zuko was being careful. He knew that it was in his nephew’s nature to make impulsive decisions and to act before thinking.

He’d gotten a passport to Ba Sing Se for himself, and then left the one for Zuko with Fung. After a lengthy discussion about what to do next, it had been decided that Iroh would continue on his way to Ba Sing Se on his own, and that Fung would give word to the other White Lotus members to look for Zuko. If any of them found him, they would tell him to go to the Misty Palms Oasis to get a passport to Ba Sing Se, where he would reunite with Iroh.

At first, Iroh had refused, insisting that he should go back and find Zuko himself. Iroh knew better than anyone how brave and resilient his nephew was, that he was capable of surviving on his own. But no matter how capable he was, he was still so young. And he had just escaped captivity. He would have no food, no money, no idea where to go. He would be all alone. And Iroh knew of General Fong’s reputation. He was a cruel man, cruel even to allies. It broke Iroh’s heart to think of Zuko in his custody. 

The only reason he’d been convinced was because he knew that Aang and his friends were planning on going to Ba Sing Se soon. He knew that they would most likely require his help there as well. He also knew how vast the Earth Kingdom was; even if he did go back to find his nephew, it was unlikely they would ever cross paths. This was the most likely way they would be able to see each other again. As much as it pained him to be walking the opposite direction of his nephew(again, his mind told him guiltily), he knew Zuko would survive this. He had made Fung promise to send him a messenger hawk the moment Zuko had been found. 

He traveled in the direction of Full Moon Bay, sending a prayer up to the spirits that the boy he called a second son would be safe. 

-----

Zuko had been walking for hours, using what little strength he had left, and there was still nothing but barren land around him. 

When night fell, his sleep was uneasy and restless. He knew he had to keep moving, had to go on so that Fong wouldn’t find him again. So despite how exhausted he was, he slept fitfully, paranoid that they’d find him while he was asleep. 

He woke up at dawn and somehow managed to force himself to continue on. 

Every step was a struggle. The only reason he was still moving was pure desperation, the knowledge that if he didn’t keep going, he’d be captured again. And that was something he would never let happen again. His wrists still burned. He’d taken one look at them and winced, knowing that they would scar. More burn scars to add to his collection. 

Infection wasn’t something he had the luxury to worry about now. He’d just have to hope that the burns didn’t get infected, like the one on his face had. He’d been bedridden with a terrible fever for days, and Uncle had told him after that he’d been afraid for Zuko’s life. 

He shivered and pushed away the memories. He couldn’t afford to get distracted. He had to make it to civilization, hopefully find some food, and then…what? He had no idea where the avatar was. He had no idea where he was, except for a vague idea of being somewhere in the west. 

Food. That was his first priority right now. He could figure out what to do next later. 

He walked for as long as could, despite his empty stomach and aching body and burning wrists. He walked until his vision began to swim in front of his eyes and it was a struggle to stay conscious.

He stumbled forward, forcing himself to continue onward. He wouldn’t die here, not now. Not after everything he’d been through. He wasn’t going to give up. 

He walked on slowly, letting his thoughts wander...until they began to wander into dark territory, things he wasn’t ready to think about without shaking like a leaf and struggling to breath. He firmly directed his thoughts towards the terrain ahead of him, the villages that would hopefully appear soon. 

His exhaustion grew, his headache became worse, and his stomach hurt so bad he had to clutch it with one hand as he walked. 

The day passed, with still no sign of any civilization. His throat was so parched he couldn’t even wet his cracked lips. The last time he’d drank water had been at the river, and the last time he’d ate food had been sometime in the prison. He knew he wouldn’t be able to go on for much longer. 

When it began to rain, he breathed a sigh of relief and turned his face up, allowing the water to moisten his dry mouth. At least he had water. It helped clear his head a little and gave him more strength.

But when night fell and it was still raining, he struggled to continue on. The rain was so cold and he was soaking wet, shivering uncontrollably. It felt like the temperature had switched from burning hot to freezing cold in only a few hours, and the rain was only making it worse. 

Remember your breath of fire. It could save your life out there. 

He raised his cold, shaking hands up to his mouth to warm them up, but he was so tired that all he could muster was a few sparks. 

He’d been walking for hours, with no end in sight, and he was on the verge of collapsing from exhaustion. He’d been tired before. He’d been hungry before. He also had experience with cold weather, from the North Pole. He knew how they felt, and he knew how to deal with them. But this kind of exhaustion, this all consuming, bone weary exhaustion, was something he’d never felt before. This gnawing emptiness in his stomach, like a hollow void, was something he’d never felt before. And the pain, from the countless bruises and cuts on his body. He’d been trying his best to ignore it, but it wasn’t going away. In fact, it seemed to be getting worse with every step he took, a horrible ache that wasn’t subsiding. His hands and feet had long gone numb with cold, and he knew that wasn’t a good sign. 

There was still nothing but empty land in sight.

Was this how he was going to die? After everything, after all the pain and struggle, he was going to die of starvation in some unknown part of the Earth Kingdom. Far away from everything and everyone he knew. Far away from home. 

Through his blurred vision, he caught sight of lightning flashing a short distance from where he was. Thunder boomed. He could only stagger a few more steps before his legs gave out and he fell to his knees, shivering with cold and exhaustion. None of this was fair. He'd tried so hard. He'd put everything he had into the small chance that he'd live to see another day.  

But then again, had anything in his life ever been fair? 

A sudden wave of anger and despair rushed through him, and he glared up at the sky. 

“You’ve always thrown everything you could at me!” he shouted with a sudden burst of energy that hadn't been there before. “You’ve never shown me any mercy!” The sky didn’t say anything back, of course, but that only made him angrier. Why was it always him? Why was he the one made to suffer? 

“Come on, strike me!” he yelled. “Finish it! You’ve never held back before!” 

The storm raged on, and tears began streaming from his eyes, mingling with the rain hitting his face. He was going to die here. He was going to die all alone, and no one would know.  

He tilted his head up, uncaring of the rain pelting his face, and screamed. He screamed in rage about the unfairness, the cruelty. He screamed until his voice gave out, until the world tilted and he fell over, unable to hold himself up anymore. Even his best efforts hadn't been enough. He was going to die anyway. Had any of this been worth it?

He vaguely wondered how Uncle would react when he died. Would he be sad? Maybe. Uncle had always seemed to care about him, though he didn’t know why. 

He could only lay there shivering in misery, too tired to move, closing his eyes to finally allow the darkness to take him. 

Chapter Text

He was alive. He didn’t know how, but he was still alive. 

He forced his eyes open, too weak to even lift a hand to shield his eyes from the sudden onslaught of sunlight, making him squint. The rain had stopped. Only then did he become aware that he was shivering slightly, his body soaked with sweat? Rain? He didn’t know. He was hot and cold at the same time, and he wondered if this was what it felt like to be dying. 

He shut his eyes again and wondered if there was even a point for him being alive. After all, there was no way he’d be able to get anywhere now. Zuko was beyond exhausted. He was so tired that he didn’t think he’d be able to even stand up, let alone walk. His head pounded. 

Get up! A part of him screamed, the part that never knew when to give up. You’re not going to die here! It wasn’t in his nature to quit. He was used to fighting, to struggling to survive. He wasn’t used to giving up. 

That part of him wanted to keep fighting. The rest of him wanted to stop. He was so, so tired.

He vaguely wondered what Azula would’ve done if she was here and snorted at the thought. Azula wouldn’t have ever gotten into this situation in the first place. She would’ve escaped at the North Pole, or manipulated Fong into releasing her in some way. She definitely wouldn’t have been laying here, anticipating her death. 

You’re pathetic, Zuzu. Giving up, waiting to die? You deserve it. Zuko shivered. Maybe he’d finally lost it. How else would he be hearing the voice of his sister here, in the middle of nowhere?

Father would be glad. Glad that his worthless son is finally gone. After all, he tried to get rid of you years ago. Zuko shut his eyes. Maybe she was right. Maybe he was better off dead.

But what about Uncle? If Uncle were here, he would tell Zuko not to give up. He would say some stupid proverb or inspirational words to motivate him. He wouldn’t want Zuko to die. 

Never give in to despair, Prince Zuko. You must have hope even during the darkest times. 

Zuko let out a bitter laugh, though it came out more like a dry wheeze. Leave it to Uncle to try to find the positive in this situation. 

“There’s nothing hopeful about this,” he muttered, the words scratching at his dry throat. He closed his eyes. Maybe if he did that, he'd just die. That sounded pretty good right about now. 

He didn't die. Of course when he actually wanted to die, he wasn't able to. The spirits really did hate him, didn't they? 

He had nothing left to lose. If he wasn't going to die, he would try to live.

Zuko struggled to push himself up, his arms shaking. His wrists hurt, so bad that he didn’t even want to look at them for fear of what he’d see. He managed to sit up and squeezed his eyes shut.

Once he felt like he wasn’t going to fall over again, he opened his eyes and wearily looked around, taking sight of his location. He’d been too out of it last night to notice anything. He was in the middle of a grassy plain, now wet from the rain. He looked around, catching sight of trees not too far from where he was. Maybe he could at least find some food there. 

He grimaced at the mud that covered his clothes and skin, trying his best to wipe it off. There was no point, though. It’s not like there was anyone here to see it. His head still throbbed, so badly it was hard to focus on anything. He felt sick.

His empty stomach gnawed at him, sending pangs of hunger through him as if he wasn't already aware that he needed food. He felt dazed. He glanced down at his hands and winced. The burns were definitely worse than they had been yesterday, now swelling and changing color. He felt sick to his stomach, remembering the signs of infection from three years ago. Maybe that was why he felt so terrible. 

Drinking the water from last night’s rain helped clear his head a little, but he was still exhausted. If sitting up had been that much of a struggle, he didn’t even want to try standing. 

Give up. You’re worthless anyways. 

“Shut up,” he mumbled. Azula always lies. Azula always lies.

He glared at the trees in the distance, so close yet so far. Why? He thought bitterly. Why couldn’t this one thing come easy for him?

The spirits work in mysterious ways, Prince Zuko. We may never understand their intentions.

Well, screw the spirits. They hated him and he hated them right back. 

It took a few tries, but he managed to get to his feet with strength he didn’t know he still had. His whole body shook from the exertion and his head spun, but at least he was standing. He grit his teeth and dug his nails into his arm, hard enough to bring tears to his eyes. The pain helped ground him. It reminded him that he was alive, that he had a reason to keep fighting.

He hobbled forward, numbing himself to everything but the feeling of the ground under his feet and the sight of the trees in the distance. Because he knew that if he allowed himself to feel the pure exhaustion that encompassed his entire body, the emptiness in his stomach, he would collapse again. And he knew that if he fell down he wouldn’t be able to get back up.

He stumbled into the forest and almost burst into tears of relief when he saw a village close by, behind the cover of trees. There was food there. There were people there. He wasn’t going to die.

He just barely made it into the village before his vision blurred and he swayed on his feet. He vaguely heard a voice in front of him, someone speaking in an urgent and worried tone.

“Please,” he whispered before he collapsed. Someone caught him, cradled him with strong, steady arms, and he didn’t know when he’d started crying but tears were falling and he couldn’t stop them, and he was shaking uncontrollably and he was so tired and everything hurt. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been touched without it hurting. He couldn't remember the last time he hadn't been in pain. 

But the arms holding him were gentle, careful not to touch any of his injuries. He thought someone was speaking but he couldn’t hear it over the strange buzzing in his ears, the sounds of his own sniffles. He clung onto soft fabric tightly and buried his face in it, because he hadn’t been held like this in so, so long. He knew his tears were probably soaking the person's shirt, and normally he would've been angry at himself for showing such weakness but right now he was just too tired to care. He wondered vaguely if these people could be trusted, if they would turn him in and send him back to Fong, and he wanted to feel afraid and angry but couldn't bring himself to feel anything except pure and utter exhaustion.

And then he was being laid on a soft, warm bed and a hand gently brushed his sweat soaked hair out of his face, and he closed his eyes and there was nothing but feverish dreams and darkness. He wandered into it, panicking when he saw no way out. Where was Uncle? Why was he all alone?

But he wasn’t alone, because then he emerged out of the darkness and into the Agni Kai chamber, and Father was looming over him and he fell to the ground on his knees as the terror paralyzed him, and he begged and pleaded and cried for mercy but got none. 

He woke up with a gasp, arms flailing as he tried to clutch his face, but someone grabbed his arms and he couldn’t pull them free. He whimpered, trying to cower back. He didn’t want to be hurt again, he...

“Shh.” Someone placed a gentle hand on his forehead, cool and soothing to the touch, and he stilled. He couldn’t help but lean into it. “It’s ok. You're safe.” 

“Uncle?” he mumbled. He whined when the hand was taken away, blearily opening his eyes and trying to find his uncle. He would never admit it, but he missed Uncle. He wanted to see him again.

“Uncle, come back,” he muttered, struggling to sit up. His head hurt and he was too hot and he felt sick, but he needed to see Uncle.

He felt Uncle gently push him back into bed, and he frowned. “Let me up,” he grumbled, swatting at Uncle’s hand. “I wanna see you.” 

“Later,” Uncle said softly, though his voice sounded strange. More feminine, high pitched. “You’re not well.” 

Zuko scowled a little but allowed Uncle to push him down gently, too tired to fight back. “Fine,” he mumbled, closing his eyes. He was exhausted anyways. “Don’t leave me.” He didn’t have a chance to hear Uncle’s response before he slipped back into a deep, fevered sleep. 

The next time he woke up, someone was touching him, and on instinct he cringed back, trying to move away because touch meant hurt, meant more pain and more bruises and broken bones and the guard-

He tried to tell them to go away but nothing came out except a small whimper, and it was too hot, too much, too much...

The person pulled away and he could finally relax, closing his eyes when the brightness became too much to bear.

He woke up a few more times after that, still delirious, and he could remember the soft murmur of voices, someone holding a cool cloth to his burning face. 

When he finally woke up conscious, he was shivering even though he could feel the warm covers over him. He was on a bed in an unfamiliar room, and he was vaguely aware of a dull ache in his head. He groaned and rubbed his eyes, startling when he felt a rough material touch his face. He looked at his hands to see that his wrists were wrapped in gauze, hiding the painful burns. The familiar scent of infection and burn ointment made him shudder in memory. 

He winced at the sight of his fingers. They were a bit better than they’d been in the prison, but still crooked. Still looked broken. He wondered if they would always look like this. He wondered if he’d ever be able to firebend again. 

There were bandages all up his arm, covering the barely healed cuts from Fong’s guards. He struggled to sit up and failed, wincing as stabs of pain went through his entire body. He felt nauseous, and every muscle in his body ached like a big bruise. He didn’t think he’d be able to stand up. 

Where was he? He didn't think anyone who knew who he was would have taken the time to heal him, but he couldn't be sure. But even if they did  know who he was, he didn't think he could really do anything about it. Even though he wasn't sick anymore, there was no way he'd be able to fight. He felt weak and dizzy, still exhausted even though he was sure he'd been asleep for a long time, if the stiffness of his limbs was any indication. 

“Hello?” he called, his voice raspy. Might as well get it over with. 

A girl about his age entered the room, and her eyes lit up when she saw him awake. “You’re finally awake!” she said, smiling.

Zuko stared at her blankly, still a little disoriented. “Where am I?” he croaked.

“You’re in our village hospital. You’ve been very sick.” He vaguely remembered her voice, from when he’d been feverish in bed.

He tried to sit up again, but this time she pushed him down. “Don’t try to sit up,” she said, carefully putting a cup of water to his lips. He drank it eagerly. “You’re still not fully recovered.”

Fong…Zuko tensed. “How long was I out?” he asked. 

“Two days,” the girl said, and Zuko grimaced. Two whole days he’d been here, vulnerable and unable to protect himself if anyone found him. He had no doubt that there were people looking for him now, and a part of him was surprised he hadn’t been found or recognized, with his horrible luck. Maybe for once, the spirits had decided to give him a break. 

“You were in a pretty bad shape when we found you,” she said, her eyes concerned. “The burns were infected, and your fingers were broken. I tried my best with them, but...”

Zuko grimaced and looked away. 

“What’s your name?” she asked. Zuko froze, and his mind scrambled for an Earth Kingdom name, any name. 

“Lee,” he said unconvincingly, avoiding her eyes, sure she’d call him out on his lie. Instead, she just smiled. 

“I’m Song,” she said. “Nice to meet you, Lee.”

He spent another day bedridden in the hospital, too weak to stand up. He’d lost a lot of weight and muscle in prison, so much that the first time he looked in the mirror he had to push back bile that rose in his throat. He almost couldn't recognize himself. He was deathly pale and skeletal thin, so thin he could count his ribs. His face was gaunt and hollow. He looked like he was on the verge of death, which wasn’t too far from the truth. 

“What’s the date?” he asked, almost afraid to hear the answer. He closed his eyes and took a shaky breath when she told him, because if what she said was true, he’d been in Fong’s prison for around two months. Two months of his life that he was never getting back. Two months of darkness, of pain and loneliness, of waiting for someone to rescue him. Of wondering if anyone even cared. 

How much had he missed? The avatar could be anywhere. Uncle could be anywhere. 

Although, that didn’t really matter anymore, did it? He was considered a traitor to the Fire Nation. Not even the avatar could pardon him from that. He was a traitor to his own nation and an enemy to all others. There was nowhere safe to go. He pushed away all thoughts of what now? and concentrated on the present. 

The first day was difficult. He ate in the morning and threw it all up within the next hour. It had been so long since he’d had a proper meal that his stomach couldn’t take it. He tried to stand up and promptly crumpled to the ground. He’d overexerted himself over the past couple of days, and he needed to get his strength back. But knowing that didn’t make it any less humiliating when he needed Song to help him up again. It was mortifying, even though Song was kind and didn’t judge him. She didn’t ask questions either, though Zuko knew she had to be curious. Song had seen his injuries. She was a healer, so she had to be able to tell that they weren’t natural. 

That night, Song showed up with her mother. 

“Call me Ming,” she said, smiling at him, and Zuko recognized her as the first voice he’d heard, who he’d thought was Uncle. She was the one who had soothed him while he’d been delirious. She reminded him of his mom. He winced at that thought, because it hurt to think about her. 

She gave him some light soup and some tea, gently supporting him when his hands shook. He flushed, feeling like a child. He was so weak he couldn’t even eat by himself. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, though he didn’t really know what he was apologizing for. Being so dependent on them? Being as helpless as a child?

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Ming said kindly, though her eyes were sad. Zuko looked away. 

The next day, he felt a bit stronger. He managed to keep down some food and take a short walk around the hospital, though even that left him winded. He’d been in bed for days. Why could he still barely walk?

“What is wrong with me?” he grumbled as he stumbled again, needing Song to steady him. “Why am I still so weak?”

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Song said, carefully guiding him back to the bed. “You just need to eat and rest.”

Zuko scowled. “I’ve been resting,” he snapped. “I need to-”

“You don’t need to do anything but rest right now,” Song said, her voice suddenly firm. Zuko stared at her for a moment before sighing. She was right. Even if he were to leave right now, there was no way he’d get far in the state he was in. The only thing he could do was rest and be patient, even though patience had never been a strong suit of his. 

A man needs his rest. He winced at the memory of Uncle’s voice.

“Ok,” he mumbled, wearily rubbing a hand over his face. Song’s expression softened, and she sat beside him.

“Lee,” she said softly, and Zuko looked at her. “I don’t know you, but I can tell you’ve been through horrible things. I know that you’ve suffered.” 

Zuko stared down at his hands. Maybe he had, but it was in the past now. It didn’t matter anymore. He just had to keep reminding himself of that, and he wouldn’t break. He couldn’t. 

“I know it might be hard right now. I know you may not think there’s hope left in the world. But there is.” She smiled. “Just know that you’re welcome to stay as long as you need. You’re safe here.”

A sudden lump began to form in Zuko's throat, and to his horror, he felt tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually felt safe. He knew he couldn’t allow himself to relax. He was still a fugitive, and if Song or her mother figured out who he was, they would likely turn him in. He still had to be cautious. 

He just wished he could feel normal again. But normal hadn’t been a word in his vocabulary for the past three years. Maybe for his entire life. 

He tried his best to remain patient and focus on recovering. A part of him was still skeptical, because this felt too good to be true. Nothing good ever lasted for him. But Song and Ming remained kind, feeding him and treating his injuries without expecting anything in return, though that made him uncomfortable. He hated being in debt to people. So the moment he was strong enough, he insisted on helping them around the house and at the hospital, because at least he’d be useful in some way.

After a week, he was finally allowed to eat solid food again, although he still couldn't eat meat. He learned that lesson the hard way. 

He gasped, struggling to catch his breath as he clutched his stomach. Tears stung the corners of his eyes. His stomach hurt, cramping so badly that all he wanted to do was curl up on his side and squeeze his eyes shut until it subsided. Song was calm, handing him a rag to clean himself up after he could actually move and make his way to the bathroom. When he got back from emptying his guts into the toilet, she gave him water and gently told him to get some rest. 

After that, he mostly ate soup and rice. Ming made sure he got some fruits and vegetables in his diet too. 

"You're a growing boy," she said when he wrinkled his nose at the spinach on his plate. "And you're still recovering. It's good for you." She crossed her arms and watched him closely until he finished everything on his plate. Even though he rolled his eyes and grumbled under his breath, he actually kind of... liked it. He missed being taken cared of. She was treating him like she did her own daughter, which gave him a warm feeling inside. Before, he might've been angry that he was being treated like a child. Now, he was just grateful for anything he could get. He had a place to stay, with food and care and kind people who didn't seem to have any ulterior motives. 

Song taught him how to mix healing ointments in the hospital, and he ended up spending most of his time there with her.

"You're a natural," she complimented, and Zuko's cheeks went slightly red. "Thanks," he muttered, firmly fixing his gaze on the table in front of him. He couldn't help but smile. He'd never been told he was a natural at anything. 

He went to their house for meals, because Ming insisted that he still needed supervision when eating, in case something didn't agree with him. Which happened a lot.

The only downside was the nightmares. He had always been prone to terrible nightmares, especially after the Agni Kai. He'd wake up trembling, the scent of burnt flesh in his nose. But now, they was worse. His sleep was plagued with horrible dreams, memories from the prison and Fong and pain and fear and things he wished he could just forget. But apparently that was too much to ask for. 

Zuko jolted upright panting, trembling and gasping for air. It was that nightmare again. The one that made his skin crawl, that made him feel tainted, disgusting, the feeling of big guard's hands on his skin that made him want to vomit. He felt so dirty. He shuddered, wrapping his arms around himself. He'd thought that he could put it all behind him now that he'd escaped, but how could he if he returned to the place of his nightmares every time he closed his eyes? 

"Lee!" He jumped at the voice, jerking his head around to see Ming staring at him, alarmed. "What are you doing?" She rushed forward and grabbed his arms, and only then did he realize that he'd been scratching at them, reopening his wounds. Blood trickled down his arms, through the bandages. 

"Lee," Ming repeated, her voice softer this time. "Why did you do that?" Zuko stared down at his hands blankly, examining the blood under his fingernails. He didn't even know why he'd done it. Because he was so dirty, so tainted that he just wished he could scrape all of his skin off?

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, avoiding her eyes. She was silent for a moment before sighing.

"I'll get more bandages. Stay here, ok?" She gave his shoulder a light squeeze and left, leaving Zuko alone, guilt churning in his chest. He was always such a burden. He'd been a burden to his father, his uncle, and now Song and Ming. 

"I'm sorry," he whispered again when she returned, gently cleaning the blood off his arm and rewrapping his wounds. Her tenderness almost brought tears to his eyes. The only other person who ever touched him like that was Uncle. His heart clenched at the thought of Uncle. He missed him so much, more than he had ever thought possible. "I-I'm causing you so much trouble, and I don't deserve your kindness." 

Ming sighed and shook her head. "You aren't causing us any trouble," she said firmly. "And everyone deserves kindness. That is what I taught my daughter." She placed a hand over his, giving him a sad smile. "I hope you will learn that as well." 

And before he knew it, three weeks had passed. 

He looked in the mirror, at his lean, clearly underweight body. Bandages peaked out from under his sleeves, from around his wrists and arms and chest, some which were not fully healed yet. But there were some improvements. His face was not as gaunt and skeletal as it had been when he'd first woken up here, and he felt a bit more like himself. He was strong enough to run and fight, even if he still hadn't managed to gain back most of the muscle he had lost. He was still nowhere near being as physically fit as he'd been before the prison. But he knew he had already been here for too long. 

Song and her mother insisted he take some supplies before he left the next morning. 

“I can’t take this,” Zuko muttered, shaking his head. They’d already done so much for him. They’d taken him in when he’d been half dead and starving, nursing him back to health. He still didn’t understand why. It was so strange to him that these two had helped him, a complete stranger, when they got nothing in return. In his experience, people didn’t do that. Not without a reason or a motive.

But he was grateful, so much more grateful than he thought he’d ever be able to express.

“I insist,” Ming said, looking at him with kind eyes that reminded him so much of Uncle that he had to look away. “Consider it a payment for all the help you’ve done in the hospital.”

Zuko hesitated before accepting the bag. “Thank you,” he said quietly, hoping they’d be able to understand just how thankful he was.

"You know how to change your bandages, right?" Song asked. Zuko nodded, absently rubbing at the gauze around his wrists. He had a lot of practice. 

“Good," she said, smiling. “I hope you find your uncle soon.” 

Zuko could only give an awkward nod and a small wave. “I do too,” he said. Ming reached a hand out to gently smooth back his hair, and Zuko felt his cheeks grow warm as he avoided her eyes. 

“Uh, I should get going now,” Zuko mumbled, knowing that his cheeks were probably bright red. He had a sudden longing, so sharp and strong, for his own mother to be here. For her to touch him like that and comfort him. 

“Of course,” she said, giving him a smile. “I wish you luck on your journey.”

He set off into the woods surrounding the village, now with a vague idea of where to go. Song had also given him a map, which showed that he’d been more or less right about where he was. He was still near the west coast of the Earth Kingdom, and Omashu was a little south of where he was. 

But there was no way the avatar was still at Omashu. It would’ve taken them at most two weeks to get there, maybe less with their bison. Knowing how often the avatar traveled, he was definitely not there. Uncle wouldn’t have risked staying there for too long either. He was smarter than that. After all, Uncle was also a fugitive, and if he got captured he’d either be shipped back to the Fire Nation or thrown into an Earth Kingdom prison like Zuko had. 

So he’d just keep traveling inland. He was sure that Uncle would have come to the same conclusion. But was there any point looking for Uncle? Uncle hadn’t even tried to find him, even though he had to have known where Zuko was. If he’d gone to Omashu as they’d planned, he would’ve known. Maybe Uncle had abandoned him, left him to fend for himself. 

Zuko tried to push away the hurt that he felt from that thought. It didn’t matter. He could take care of himself. He had escaped and survived by himself, after all. 

The next village he came across, Zuko’s gaze was instantly drawn to the dual broadswords hanging on one of the stands. “How much for those?” he asked the owner, pointing at the swords. 

“100 gold coins,” the owner said, and Zuko scowled. “This is all I have,” he said, holding them up. He’d looked through the bag and realized that Song had also left him some money, which made him feel even more guilty than he already was.  

The owner shrugged. “Not my problem, kid,” he said. “You can’t have them.” 

Zuko glared at him and stormed away. He was going to get those swords, no matter what. 

He used a couple of the coins to buy a familiar blue mask at another stand nearby, and by the next day, he had the swords. 

And his hands weren’t damaged enough to hinder his firebending, though it was more difficult than it had been. He’d decided to only use firebending for dire emergencies, besides for lighting a fire at night. He’d only had to use it for actual fighting once, when two men had ambushed him while he was asleep. He’d used firebending to bring them down and then knocked them out with the hilt of his sword.

For once, everything seemed to be going fine in his life. He had his swords and had food. He wasn’t defenseless anymore. And everytime he jolted awake from a nightmare, panting and shivering, he told himself that he would never again be as helpless as he’d been back in Fong’s prison. He would be cautious. He wouldn’t allow himself to break. So he pushed forward, as he always did, and continued.

Chapter Text

He observed the young boy in the tavern, a boy of about sixteen with a large burn scar covering the left half of his face. He was thin and pale, the effects of starvation clear on his gaunt face. He had two swords and a satchel slung over his shoulder. Outwardly, he looked relaxed, but Shen could see how he held himself rigidly, eyes watchful and alert. 

This boy fit the description he’s been given, except for his hair. It wasn’t shaved in the front and tied into a ponytail in the back. It was short and tousled, the bangs falling in front of his eyes when he lowered his head. 

He had to be sure. So he strode across the tavern and sat in the seat in front of the boy, who startled slightly before narrowing his eyes. 

“Would you like a cup of Jasmine tea?” he asked, and the boy’s eyes widened before he glared, raising one hand as if he was ready to grab his swords and fight. 

“Who are you?” he demanded. “Where is my uncle?” 

Shen smiled. The code words the Grand Lotus had given him had done their job. This was the boy he was looking for. Prince Zuko, the Grand Lotus’s nephew. After weeks of searching, he’d finally been found. 

“He is safe,” he reassured, seeing the way the boy’s shoulders relaxed the slightest bit. “Come meet me in the back. I have a message from him.”

The boy eyed him suspiciously before giving him a short nod. Shen stood up and made his way to the back of the tavern, entering the small room in the back. A couple moments later, the prince entered, shutting the door behind him. His golden eyes, a shade lighter than his uncle’s, were narrowed in suspicion. Shen saw the way his feet were positioned, like he was ready to defend himself at any given moment.

“Who are you and how do you know my uncle?” the boy asked, scowling. 

“I am an old friend of your uncle’s, Prince Zuko,” Shen explained. The boy’s eyes widened, obviously caught off guard by the use of his real name. 

“How-” he began, then shook his head. “Where’s Uncle?” he asked instead, a cautious hope in his eyes. 

Shen really didn’t want to be the one to dissipate that hope. “I’m sorry. Your uncle isn’t here right now. He’s on his way to Ba Sing Se.” 

The boy slumped down a little. “Ba Sing Se?” he repeated. “Does he know where I am?” 

Shen smiled. “He knows that you managed to escape from General Fong’s fortress.” He didn’t miss the small shudder that ran through the boy’s thin body at that. “He asked me and a few other friends to keep an eye out for you, to tell you where to go.”

“Uncle has a lot of old friends,” the boy muttered. Shen laughed. “Yes, I suppose he does. All old people know each other, right?” 

The prince didn’t even crack a smile. Shen cleared his throat awkwardly. 

“So where am I supposed to go?” the prince asked.

Shen handed him a map, with the route to the Misty Palms Oasis drawn. “When you get to the Oasis, you will meet up with another one of your uncle’s friends, who will provide you with a passport that will allow you to travel to Ba Sing Se.” 

The boy frowned at the map in front of him. “How will I know where Uncle’s friend is?” he asked. “He’ll find you. Don’t worry,” Shen assured. 

Shen provided the prince with some extra food and money and went outside to see him off. 

The moment he disappeared from sight, Shen wrote to Fung at the Oasis. 

Found the package. Sent it your way. 

-Shen

-----

They had the date for the eclipse. That made everything else worth it, even the miserable week spent in the desert, half of which Sokka had been too delirious to remember. 

But Appa had gone missing, leaving Aang in the worst mood Sokka had ever seen him in. And that soured the mood of the whole group. All of them felt Appa’s absence like a huge gaping hole.  

“At least we’ll get to see Iroh in Ba Sing Se,” Toph reminded Aang, but that only cheered him up a little. And it only reminded Sokka that they’d have to see Zuko again too. He wondered if his time as a prisoner had changed him at all, or if he was still the same jerky prince they’d left with General Fong. 

“We have to go down the Serpent's Pass,” Sokka determined, after reading the map. 

“Are you sure that’s the best way?” Toph asked. 

“It seems like the only way,” Sokka said. Apparently, he was wrong, as he found out when they met up with two other refugees, heading for a place called Full Moon Bay, where a ferry apparently would take refugees across the lake.

Then the two refugees they’d traveled with had lost their passports, and they had to go through the Serpent's Pass anyways. But Suki was here! And that made all the other problems disappear. 

They made it through the Serpent’s Pass in two days, and Sokka was devastated when Suki said she had to leave. 

But he quickly became distracted by the giant drill outside the walls of Ba Sing Se. How was that even possible? 

His plan to take it down from the inside worked. They managed to bring the drill down, and defeated Princess Azula and her two friends. 

And finally, they were in Ba Sing Se, which was nothing like Sokka had expected. Joo Dee creeped him out, and there seemed to be a lot of secrets kept from them. 

“One month?!” Sokka screamed. They expected them to wait a full month before they could meet with the Earth King? “But we have important information about the Fire Nation! It could help us win the war!” 

But again, Joo Dee pretended like she didn’t hear him, and Sokka sighed. This city was crazy, he decided. At least their house was nice. 

“Iroh’s probably already here,” Toph pointed out. “Should we go look for him?”

Katara shook her head. “This city is huge. Who knows where he could be?” Aang deflated at that, and Katara quickly noticed. 

“Oh no, Aang, it’s not that big! Don’t worry. We’ll fine Appa.” She lay a hand on Aang’s shoulder, and he smiled up at her sadly. “Thanks, Katara.” 

“I think I know where Iroh’ll be,” Toph said. “He has to be in the lower ring. That’s where most refugees go.” 

Aang brightened. “Then let’s go there! Maybe we can find him.”

They all looked at Sokka, and he sighed. “Fine,” he said. “But only because we don’t have anything else to do right now.” 

“Do you think he found Zuko?” Katara wondered as they made their way to the train station. Sokka groaned. He’d almost forgotten about the prince. 

“I don’t know,” Aang said. “I hope so. He seems to really care about him.” How a man as kind as Iroh could care about someone like Zuko blew Sokka’s mind, but he didn’t comment. 

They ended up finding Iroh in a tea shop, because of course. If there was one thing Sokka had learned about the old man over the course of their weeks together, it was that he was obsessed with tea. 

“Children!” Iroh smiled when he saw them. “I am glad you made it here safely.”

“So are we,” Toph said. “Did you find your nephew?” 

Iroh’s smile flickered a little, and Sokka exchanged a look with Aang. Apparently not, then. Was Zuko even alive? He had to be, right? He was Zuko. He wouldn’t just lay down and die. 

“I have asked some old friends to keep an eye out for him. If anyone finds anything about him, they will report it back to me.” He sighed and shut his eyes. 

Katara reached out to put her hand over his. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. Iroh managed a smile, but he still looked so sad . Aang quickly changed the subject to something more cheerful. 

The next day, they decided to go to the Earth King’s party to try to talk to him. The party was a disaster, and only increased Sokka’s uneasiness about the whole city. The Earth King was nothing but a figure head. Joo Dee had disappeared, replaced with another woman who called herself the same name. 

Ba Sing Se was worse than he’d ever thought it could be.

-----

Zuko peered down at the map in his hands. He was almost at the Oasis, where he’d get a passport to Ba Sing Se. Desert travel was hard, though. It was so hot, even for him, and walking in the sand was difficult. And he was running out of food again.

At least he had food this time.

When he squinted in the direction the oasis was supposed to be, he was pretty sure he could see some small buildings in the distance. He was close. 

After another half hour of walking, he reached the Oasis, which was a really unimpressive place. He frowned at the melted ice sculpture in the middle, and wrinkled his nose at the bugs and stray dogs running around. 

Why would Uncle’s friend be here? Zuko looked around, wondering how he was supposed to find whoever he was looking for. 

He caught sight of a board up ahead, with wanted posters on it. Of course, his and his uncle’s were there, and so was his blue spirit disguise. He grimaced and pulled his hat a little lower over his face before entering one of the run down taverns.

It was filled with travelers, most so filthy that Zuko scrunched his nose and stayed away from them. Nobody in here looked like they’d be one of Uncle’s friends. 

He sighed and exited, going to the one next door. This one was a bit larger, with a few more people, including some suspicious looking characters. He scowled at two men at a table in the corner who were glaring at him. He ignored them and scanned the other tables, looking for someone who looked like they’d know his uncle. 

A hand landed on his shoulder, and he flinched, turning around quickly, a hand on his swords. It was an old man.

“I apologize,” the man said, making a strange gesture with his hands. Zuko frowned at him. 

“I am a friend of your uncle’s,” the man said, gesturing for Zuko to follow him. “I-“

Out of the corner of his eye, Zuko caught sight of the men he’d seen glaring at him stand up, stomping towards him. 

“It’s over! This fugitive is coming with me!” he yelled, obviously enraged. Zuko glared at him, about to pull his swords out when the old man stood in front of him.

“I knew it! You’re a wanted criminal with a bounty on your head!” Zuko stared at him, betrayed. Had he been wrong to trust these people? 

“You said you were going to help me!” he yelled. 

Then the old man winked at him, and Zuko blinked. Had he imagined that? “You think you’re going to capture him and get all that gold?” the man questioned.

Zuko heard whispers around the tavern. “Gold?”

Zuko slowly backed away, pulling out his swords, his heart racing in his chest. He wasn’t going to get captured again. Never. He could defend himself now. 

Then, chaos erupted. The two men stepped forward towards Zuko, but another man stopped them, and then more men joined the fight.

“Come with me!” Zuko turned around, where the old man was gesturing towards the back door. Zuko ducked his head and easily slipped out unnoticeably.

He was led to a flower shop. “What are we doing here?” he asked, annoyed. 

“Your uncle told me to give you this, Prince Zuko.” He handed Zuko a few papers, which he recognized as an Earth Kingdom passport. 

Another man entered the room urgently. “There are two men outside looking for him,” he said, pointing at Zuko. 

Zuko scowled and peeked out the window, where he could clearly see the two men from before asking people if they’d seen him. 

“Quickly, Prince Zuko!” the old man said. He pointed towards a seemingly ordinary looking pot. “Open that and climb in. I will get you to safety, I promise.”

Zuko pulled the lid off the top, revealing a small hole that he quickly climbed into. He took a breath before replacing the lid over him. He shut his eyes and tried to breathe evenly. Ever since the prison, being in small spaces terrified him. He couldn’t handle them for too long. 

The pot jolted a little and started moving. Zuko’s breathing hitched, and he tried to push away the memories that began creeping in his mind, making his breathing rapid and panicky. The darkness, the claustrophobic space…

Breath, Prince Zuko. Uncle’s gentle voice came into his mind. Remember your basics.

Zuko closed his eyes and breathed, remembering Uncle’s breathing exercises. He didn’t move until the pot had stopped and the lid was lifted off. He immediately turned his face up towards the sun, his breathing calming down. 

They were a little ways from the Oasis, far enough that the men wouldn’t look for him. 

“You must travel towards Full Moon Bay,” the man said. “There, you must show your passport to get a ticket for a ferry to Ba Sing Se.”

Zuko nodded in understanding. “Ok,” he said. 

He bid farewell to the man and set off towards Full Moon Bay, which was a half a day journey from where he was. He sighed, but continued on. Finally, after a few grueling hours of walking through the hot desert, sweating and miserable, Zuko arrived at Full Moon Bay.

“One ticket to Ba Sing Se,” he said, and his heart raced when the lady took a moment to examine his passport. He released his breath when she stamped it and handed him a ticket. 

He climbed onto the ferry, towards a new city and hopefully his uncle.

Chapter Text

Iroh worked in the tea shop as he did everyday now, trying to make money. He was in Ba Sing Se for the second time. This city held a lot of memories, mostly unpleasant ones that Iroh didn’t want to recall.

The last time he’d been here, it had been as a conqueror. Now, as a refugee. The last time, he’d been here with his own son, twenty years old, bright eyed and excited to finally contribute to the war effort. Now, he was here alone, dearly hoping that the sixteen year old boy he saw as a second son would make it here safely. It hurt Iroh to think about how he was living a relatively peaceful life in Ba Sing Se while his nephew might be suffering alone. He wanted nothing more than to go back out of Ba Sing Se, to find Zuko himself. He wished he could. 

His days now were always full of thoughts of his nephew, wondering if he was safe, if he was fed, if he was warm. Hoping that he was comfortable and not in any pain. If he was even... no. Iroh refused to let his thoughts go in that direction. The spirits wouldn’t have allowed him to lose another son. 

His time was brightened when he reunited with Aang and the others, but still he worried about Zuko. 

His thoughts were interrupted by a noise from above him, and a bird landed on his shoulder.

“Oh!” Iroh gasped, grabbing the note from the bird's talons. He barely noticed as it flew away.

The package has been found, and is being delivered to you. Should be there soon.

-Fung

Iroh closed his eyes and took a shaky breath, clutching the letter to his chest. Zuko was on his way here. He would see his dear nephew once again, after far too long of being apart. He was sure that the moment he saw his nephew, he would hold him tight and never let him go again.

-----

Zuko stood at the railing on the ferry, gazing out at the water as they sailed across the bay, towards Ba Sing Se. He took a bite of the strange looking mush apparently called food and made a face as he swallowed it. 

“Ugh,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head to get rid of the taste. 

“Tastes terrible, right?” Zuko startled and whipped his head around, glaring at the boy who stood behind him. 

“Whoa!” the boy said, smirking. “Jumpy, aren’t we?” Zuko raised an eyebrow at him.

“My name’s Jet and these are my Freedom Fighters, Smellerbee and Longshot.” He gestured towards two other kids beside him, a taller boy and a short girl. What kind of names were those ? 

He gave them a short nod. “Hello.” He didn’t offer his name, hoping that would make them leave. 

But Jet didn’t move. “Here’s the deal. I hear the captain’s eating like a king while the refugees have to feed off his scraps. Doesn’t seem fair, does it?”

Zuko scowled down at the bowl in his hands and slowly shook his head. “Not really,” he muttered, wondering where the other boy was going with this. 

“You wanna help us ‘liberate’ some food?” Jet asked, giving him a smirk. Zuko frowned at him, and then looked down at the bowl again. 

Making a quick decision, he tossed the bowl overboard. “I’m in,” he replied, and Jet grinned. 

That night, they snuck into the food storage room and stole as much food as they could carry, passing it out to the other refugees. 

“From what I hear, people eat like this everyday in Ba Sing Se. I can’t wait to set my eyes on that giant wall,” Jet said, coming to sit beside him. Zuko nodded silently, slightly uncomfortable. He’d never been good at social situations in the best of times, and his months spent alone had only made it worse. 

“Not a very talkative guy, are you?” Jet asked, raising an eyebrow. Zuko just shrugged and stared down at his empty bowl. 

Jet shrugged. “That’s ok,” he said. “I’ll talk then. I decided to come to Ba Sing Se for a new beginning. A chance to start fresh. I’ve done some things in my past that I’m not proud of, but I want to change.” Zuko hummed in acknowledgment, absently running his fingers over the raised scars on his arm.

“What about you, Lee? Why are you here?” Jet asked.

Zuko frowned at the question. “My uncle is somewhere in the city,” he said carefully. “We were...separated a few months ago. I’m going there to find him again.” 

Jet nodded. “You know, the moment I saw your scar, I knew exactly who you were.” Zuko stiffened. Had he not been careful enough?

“You’re an outcast, like me. And us outcasts have to stick together. We have to watch each other’s backs. Because no one else will.”

Zuko watched the other refugees laughing and talking a few feet away from where they sat. And he suddenly felt so lonely, more so than he ever had before. 

“I’ve been alone for a long time,” he admitted. Jet frowned. “Yeah, I can tell.” 

Zuko sighed and leaned back on his sleeping bag, gazing up at the stars. Jet was silent for a few moments. “Look, Lee,” he said suddenly. “You and I have a much better chance of making it in the city if we stick together. You want to join the Freedom Fighters?”

Zuko stared at him, surprised. Jet wanted him to join his little band of outcasts? He knew he should be offended, but a part of him felt...relieved. Relieved that he wouldn’t have to be alone again if he accepted, like he had for so long. But he wasn’t who Jet thought he was. He wasn’t an Earth Kingdom refugee named Lee. He was prince of the Fire Nation. He didn’t belong here, and he shouldn’t want to.

“I don’t know,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “I don’t even know you.” 

Jet shrugged. “Good point,” he said. “But I have a feeling about you, Lee. I think you’d make a great Freedom Fighter."

Zuko looked away, contemplating. It didn’t sound like a bad idea. He wouldn’t have to be alone for any longer. But should he really be risking himself like that? If he got close to these people, there was more of a possibility that he’d be discovered. He’d learned his lesson in the North Pole to be more cautious. 

“I’ll get back to you on that,” Zuko said, crossing his arms. Jet’s gaze traveled down to the scars around his wrists, and Zuko grimaced. But instead of questioning him about it, Jet only gave him an understanding look. 

Maybe his scars could work to his advantage. Since they were burns, it made it seem like he’d been a Fire Nation prisoner instead of an Earth Kingdom one. That cover story could also explain away the other injuries he had, if anyone asked(though he doubted they would). 

“That’s fair,” Jet said, grinning. “As long as I know you’re considering it. But for now, I’ll call the others.”

He stood up and dragged the two other kids he’d been traveling with towards them. They seemed ok from when they’d stolen food together, though Zuko hadn’t talked to them as much as he’d talked to Jet. 

“Smellerbee and Longshot, I’ve invited Lee to join the Freedom Fighters, and he said he’ll think on it.”

Smellerbee nodded. “Cool,” she said. Longshot gave him a single nod, and Zuko blinked. 

“Longshot doesn’t talk much either,” Jet said, nudging him in the shoulder. “You two should get along fine!”

Zuko nodded, struggling to think of something to say. “Hi,” was all he could think of. There was a bit of an awkward silence before Smellerbee spoke. 

“So Lee, what’s your story?” she asked. Zuko stared at her. “What do you mean?” he asked. 

“I mean how you ended up here. I ran away from home when the Fire Nation seized my parent’s land. Jet and Longshot had their villages burned down by the Fire Nation. What about you?” she asked, and Zuko could only stare at her, slightly sick to the stomach. How could she talk about something like that so nonchalantly? And the Fire Nation had done that to them. His nation. 

He realized that the others were waiting for an answer, so he shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he muttered, turning his face away. What was he going to tell them? That he was the prince of the nation that had burned their villages to the ground? 

“That’s ok,” Jet said, shrugging. “I know it can be painful to talk about.” 

More like impossible. Even if Zuko hadn’t been trying to keep his identity a secret, he was pretty sure he wouldn’t have been able to talk about what had happened to him without going into a panic. 

“Yeah,” he sighed, curling up in his sleeping bag and turning away to face the other side, effectively ending the conversation. 

He heard Jet and the others stand up and make their way to another corner of the ship, and he tried to ignore the aching loneliness in his chest. He’d been on his own for months. Why was he feeling this way now? He had to pull himself together. 

He tossed and turned for a long time, only falling asleep a couple hours before dawn. 

Zuko awoke to someone shaking him. He immediately grabbed the person and pinned them to the ground in front of him. 

"Lee! Lee, it's just me!" It took Zuko a moment to think through his blind panic, heart pounding with adrenaline. It was just Jet, who was staring up at him in alarm. Of course. Zuko scowled and released him, moving back a little. 

“What do you want?” Zuko snapped, trying to calm himself down. You’re ok. Fong isn’t here. Jet held his hands up in surrender. 

“I just wanted to tell you that we’re almost there,” he said, looking at him strangely. Zuko glared at him. "Don't do that again," he growled. 

"I won't. Sorry." Jet sounded genuine enough, so Zuko just sighed and took a shaky breath before standing up. 

“Wow,” he muttered when he saw the walls to Ba Sing Se not too far from their ferry. The walls were gigantic . He wondered how his uncle had possibly managed to break through those, back during his days as a general. 

“Wow is right,” Jet agreed, gazing at the walls. After a moment, he turned to Zuko with a raised eyebrow. “So have you given any thought to my offer yesterday?” 

Zuko kept his eyes on the walls. Joining Jet’s group wasn’t the worst idea, at least temporarily. It would be useful to have people with him. And he wouldn’t be alone. 

“Yeah,” he replied. “I’ll join your group, for now.”

Jet grinned, and he looked genuinely glad. “Good,” he said. “Welcome to the Freedom Fighters, Lee!” 

Zuko nodded awkwardly. “Thanks,” he said. Maybe this would work out. Hopefully. 

The ferry docked at the harbor in Ba Sing Se, and Jet gestured for Zuko to follow him. “Come on,” he insisted, pointing at Smellerbee and Longshot, who were waiting for them on the dock. “Let’s go to Ba Sing Se.” 

They got on a train, and Zuko’s heart sank when he saw just how large the city really was. How was he possibly going to find one person here? 

That night, Jet woke him up in the middle of the night and smirked when Zuko asked him what was going on. 

“Follow me,” he said, and Zuko groaned but quickly pulled on a warmer outfit, grabbed his swords, and followed. 

Jet put a finger to his lips and crept onto the roof. Zuko followed, puzzled but admittedly curious. 

Smellerbee and Longshot were waiting for them on the roof, intently watching something down below. Zuko peered down and saw a few guards, standing in front of some door. 

“Behind that door is a large collection of gold and jewels,” Jet whispered to Zuko. “We’re gonna take it and return it to the rightful owners: the people.” 

Zuko stared at him. They’d only been here for one day. How had he already found something for them to do? “How’d you find it?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. Jet grinned. 

“I hear things,” he said, holding up his swords. “You ready?” 

The four of them easily took on the guards and returned triumphant, leaving gold on the ground outside where people could easily find it. 

“I knew I was right to recruit you,” Jet said, grinning at Zuko. “You’re perfect for the Freedom Fighters.” Zuko felt his cheeks heat up. 

“Thanks,” he mumbled, looking away awkwardly. Smellerbee smiled at him. 

“Honestly, I had my doubts when Jet first wanted to recruit you. But you’ve proven them wrong today.” Zuko stared firmly at the ground, wondering why their words made him feel so warm inside. 

Jet laughed and clapped a hand on Zuko’s back. The first time Jet had tried to touch him without warning, Zuko had flinched so hard he’d almost fallen over. It seemed like Jet had learned his lesson now, since his movement was slow and his touch was gentle. But even that made Zuko stiffen and hold his breath until Jet moved his hand. 

The days went on, until it had been a week since they’d arrived at Ba Sing Se. And that week was one of the best Zuko had had in a long time. For the first time in months, Zuko had people he could rely on. Even if these people were Earth Kingdom peasants, even if he knew this was temporary, at least he wasn’t alone. And as he sat with the Freedom Fighters at night, listening to Jet’s laughter and Smellerbee’s jokes and Longshot’s silent smiles, he wondered if this was what friendship felt like. 

He still got nightmares often, which was the main thing he was worried about now. He knew that his nightmares were never exactly quiet. He knew that because sometimes he’d wake up and his throat would be sore, like he’d just been screaming. 

He was worried that he would accidentally say something in his sleep that would reveal his identity. But to his relief, nothing ever seemed to happen. The others obviously heard his nightmares(it’d be impossible for them not to), but none of them ever mentioned them, which he was grateful for. They’d only give him sympathetic looks in the morning after a particularly bad one. 

His life was actually going well for once, so well that he was immediately on edge. Waiting for something to go wrong, because something always went wrong. But nothing happened. 

Nothing happened, and after a little while, he managed to convince himself that maybe nothing would. That maybe he was... safe.

Chapter Text

Hi everyone!! I'm so sorry for how long it took me to give y'all an update, but I wanted to say that I will be doing a rewrite of this story. I feel like I posted it too quickly and it didn't really get my full effort, so I'll be changing it up a bit and posting it again:) some parts may be the same, some may be different. I'm not sure how much I'll decide to change but we'll see.

Thank you all for reading my story, it's crazy to me that anyone would want to read anything I write lol. Hope y'all have a great day and hopefully you'll decide to read the new version;)