Chapter Text
Hakoda eyed the children in front of him, swallowing hard. Gold eyes glared up at him from at least three pairs of eyes- the other two were crying. He sighed internally, turning to the eldest.
“You understand that you are now our prisoners?” he asked, just to clarify. The boy nodded jerkily, trying to comfort the sobbing toddler in his arms. “Who else among you are firebenders?” Bright gold- far brighter than Hakoda had ever seen- darted to the door, guarded on this side by Bato. Tonraq was guarding the other.
“Just Junichi and I,” the teen rasped, voice deep and scratchy. Hakoda wondered whether breathing fire could damage a firebender’s throat. He eyed him sharply.
“You swear?” The boy nodded again. In the short time since they had captured them, Hakoda had come to learn that he was a man of few words. The toddler sobbed harder.
“Give her here,” Bato said, stepping forward. Now that he knew the girl wasn’t about to spit sparks at him, he and Hakoda couldn’t stand for her to continue crying. The boy drew back, gripping the other boy by the shoulder who raised his fists. The teen squeezed as sparks flew.
“Why?” he asked sharply. Hazel eyes had appeared through chubby fists, wide and frightened.
“You’re rubbish at comforting a baby. Anyone can tell that you’re not used to caring for someone so young,” Bato pointed out. The resulting scowl was made all the harsher by the scar on the left side of his face.
“I wouldn’t have had to, should you not have killed their mother!” he snapped, the loudest he had been since they had captured them. And there it is, Hakoda thought, wincing. He remembered feeling anger like that for Kya.
Except these were just children to feel that way.
They had found the woman, armoured and alone, far from her patrol. She had had no bags with her, nothing to say that she had been anything less than a Fire Nation soldier. She had fought well, had admitted to having once been part of the Southern Raiders. She had asked that it be quick and Hakoda had granted her that, unknowing of the eyes watching from the woods, of the too young children who saw a woman killed in front of them.
Had this teen been any slower, had the girl scared easier, Hakoda would have been burnt to a crisp.
Looking into those angry gold eyes, at the familiar pale skin, dark hair and golden eyes, combined with that scar, he wondered how the boy had ever passed as a refugee himself or why the woman even trusted him to watch over these children. It would appear they had already been on the run from something: now they were in the hands of the enemy. He wondered why they were all still standing.
“I swear by Tui and La, the Ocean and the Moon, that no harm will come to the children. We don’t hunt them,” Hakoda said firmly, glaring right back. He knew this boy from wanted posters and knew his actions from Sokka’s brief visit two days ago. He hoped Katara was alright. “As for you, Prince Zuko, I believe we will need to talk terms. Outside of their hearing.” All of the children stiffened.
The Prince steeled himself.
“Junichi, Kasumi, take Mami and Noriaki with the Chief’s second,” he murmured to the elder children. The girl could only be all of ten, but her face was serious as she nodded gravely, clinging to the small six-year-old boy.
“But-” the other boy, the thirteen year old firebender, apparently Junichi, started to protest. He cut off when the Prince gave him a glare. Instead he took the crying baby girl, all of two, who screamed as she was separated from the Prince. They followed Bato sullenly from the cabin.
Silence fell, the Prince still staring at the door, head cocked to one side to listen. He didn’t really look like the terrifying figure from Sokka’s stories. Whatever the boy had been up to, it most certainly didn’t involve hunting the Avatar- Hakoda had heard rumours of Ba Sing Se rooting out the firebenders who had snuck into the city. He wondered if the Prince had been one of them, fleeing from the place after the defeat of Princess Azula.
He wondered, for the first time, how many had been in the city fleeing the war themselves.
Those uncanny golden eyes turned to face him now, accepting of their position now. It gave Hakoda a chance to truly study the Prince in detail, features no longer hidden by darkness or behind a toddler’s sobbing form. He was short, face showing evidence of long periods of starvation. The cheekbones were just a little too prominent to be natural. Aside from the scar on the left side of his face and Hakoda was most definitely not going to think how it looked far too much like a hand print for comfort) he had all the classic aristocratic features. Even bowed and slumped in exhaustion, there was no disguising the presence the boy exuded. His clothes, however, were grubby browns and greens, half covered in mud and dirt. They had obviously been sleeping rough with very few supplies, and by the way the boy was trying to hide the rumbling of his stomach, most had gone to the others if they had had any at all.
Bato would have taken the children straight to the galley, no doubt.
“This is an awkward predicament you have placed me in,” Hakoda started. The Prince pursed his lips, golden eyes blazing in anger. The effect was made all the worse by the constant glare caused by the puckered skin of the scar. “I cannot keep firebenders on this boat. Especially not untrained ones.” The boy stiffened.
“Junichi was ten when they fled the Caldera,” he said tightly. “He has never had anything to do with the war.”
“No, and neither have the others I imagine,” Hakoda commented. “Yet, there is no guarantee he won’t burnt he ship by accident either.”
“He won’t. He was trained enough for control.”
“And the girl? I hear firebenders start late in life. What if she starts bending?” The Prince clenched his fists.
“Firebenders don’t start bending until the average age of six. My sister was four when she started throwing sparks.” He was shaking, whether from anger or hunger, Hakoda couldn’t tell. “And there are two firebenders around who can extinguish them if, by some miracle, she is enough of a prodigy to bend at two.” Hakoda could read the message being ground out between the Prince’s teeth. I won’t let you murder children. As if that had been Hakoda’s plan.
“I was not suggesting their deaths,” he sighed. “I and my crew are heading to Ba Sing Se. You and the children will be handed over to the proper authorities who will no doubt send them back to the Fire Nation-”
“No!” The words seemed drawn out of the Prince in shock, his whole body held straight and taunt, ready to pounce. “They have no one else.” Hakoda blinked.
“They are citizens of the Fire Nation. They do not belong in the Earth Kingdom,” he said. The Prince had gone white.
“And if you hand them over to the Dai Li, you may as well kill them yourself,” he spat. “Why do you think we were fleeing the city?” He closed his mouth with some effort. Hakoda felt his blood run cold.
“What?” he asked tightly. Prince Zuko took a step back, disguising the flinch with movement. Again, Hakoda forced himself not to think about how the scar looked too much like a loving caress.
“Princess Azula has fled the city,” Zuko said, as if this line of thinking made sense. “They have no one to blame for the destruction of the city and near coup over the Earth King.” He was looking anywhere except at Hakoda. “And the Earth King, aided by the Avatar and his friends, have called for all members of the Fire Nation be rounded up and arrested.” He paused. “The Dai Li have extensive records of all who have fled from the colonies and... elsewhere.”
No, Hakoda thought, cold dread seeping down his spine. They wouldn’t. Except... Sokka and Katara, and perhaps even the Avatar who was all of twelve according to Sokka, wouldn’t but the Dai Li most certainly would. Especially if given orders by their King to do so.
“I see,” was all Hakoda said in reply. He took another glance over the Prince, seeing not the Fire Nation features, but a starving teenager on the verge of collapse and holding himself up by sheer force of will. He saw war-torn eyes set within a face too young, reflected again and again in his men and son and a tiny Air Monk on the back of a bison. Except, this time, the expression was not against the Fire Nation, but him.
He rose sharply, unable to bear looking at him. “Come with me,” he ordered, sweeping past the boy to the door of his cabin. He could feel golden eyes drilling into his back as he wrenched the door open and walked out. He had to look behind him to check that the Prince was following.
He was too damn quiet, footsteps silent on the wood. He didn’t want to think about why a Prince would have picked up such a habit.
He found that his suspicions were correct, in that Bato had taken the other children to eat up on deck, a spread of plates around them. However, none of the children were eating, all silently and stubbornly waiting on something. Hakoda blinked, startled. Bato looked frustrated, but clearly didn’t want to overstep here. Especially not when one of the children was a firebender.
“Everything ok?” Bato asked as they approached, noting the far too quiet teenager trailing behind him. Bato was quick to look away. “I can’t get them to eat,” he whispered when Hakoda settled beside him. Zuko turned, questioning.
He glanced back at the children, all sat staring at them.
“You brought this food for them?” he asked, voice soft. The four children startled, as if surprised by this fact. Brows drawn together, Bato nodded, sending him a quizzical look.
“You did?” the older boy, Junichi Hakoda believed Zuko had named him, asked, frowning. “But-”
“In the Water Tribes, food is communal,” Zuko said, cutting across him. He very carefully and deliberately picked a piece of fish, taking back the toddler from the girl. The toddler grabbed the fish and mushed it immediately around her mouth. “Meals are to be shared.” Junichi blinked several times. The others needed no further encouragement and descended on the plates. It appeared that Amaruq had not made stew, merely cooked fish and settled for some of the non perishables for the kids. Quick, easy food, nutritious but not tasty. They ate it anyway, Junichi joining in.
Only the Prince ate sparingly, only taking a bite of every fourth morsel or so that he picked up. The rest went to the child. Hakoda tried not to watch- it just made him seem all the more human.
It made this whole situation more complicated.
“What happened?” Bato whispered. “I thought we had agreed to keep the Prince separate and hand him over to the authorities. You’ll only traumatise them further-”
“They came from Ba Sing Se,” Hakoda said flatly, voice equally quiet. From the twitch of the Fire Prince’s head, he could hear every word they said. Good hearing. Too good. Yet more painful facts to ignore. “The Prince claims they fled the Dai Li.” Bato was silent a moment.
“The kids seem more scared of them than the other refugees we have met,” he agreed. “You think handing them over to the Earth Kingdom is dangerous?”
“I think, that the Earth King is terribly naïve,” Hakoda said, grinding some seal jerky between his fingers. He remembered Sokka’s proud declaration, that they had revealed the war to the Earth King. As if the man had no idea that he was even at war. “And I think someone is taking advantage of the fact that the Avatar is twelve.”
He pretended not to see the Prince flinch.
“This could be a problem,” Bato murmured, fists clenched. “I know I, for one, am not about to start condoning the murder of children, even if they are ashmakers.” Hakoda nodded. They were not savages, nor were they barbaric.
But neither could they keep firebenders aboard wooden boats.
“Prince Zuko,” Hakoda called. The boy in question stiffened. The youngest boy looked slightly confused, while the girl hid behind the Prince. Junichi scowled. “We shall be heading to Ba Sing Se in the morning, to convene with the Earth King. You understand why you must come with us?” Zuko gripped the baby tighter, drawing her close. His face was blank, but Hakoda could see fear in those golden eyes.
“Yes,” he whispered.
“We are not the Dai Li,” he said firmly. “We will not hand the children over to the Earth Kingdom until we are satisfied that their safety will be guaranteed.”
“But they can’t stay here,” he finished, eyes flicking away from Hakoda’s. “Because both Junichi and I are firebenders.” It sounded like he was trying not to spit ashes.
“You will forgive me if I fail to trust simply your word at keeping stray sparks from burning down my ships,” he said dryly. Zuko said nothing, face turned away so he could see only the scar. The girl edged closer.
“You’re going to send us back there?” Junichi spat, shaking. He looked the wrong side of terrified to anger. “To what? Get sent out like... like...” Zuko settled a hand on his arm gently.
“The Dai Li have no more armour other than that of General Lu Ten,” he said, words sad and heavy. “They cannot try that trick again.” Junichi snorted. Tears had gathered in his hazel eyes, spilling down his cheeks.
“They said it was retribution for the Fire Nation doing it. Like we were involved!” His voice cracked, rising by several octaves. Hakoda found that several of his suspicions had just been confirmed. Tonraq, Kallik and Inuksuk paled, the only other men on deck. And the youngest as well, he thought sadly.
“An eye for an eye makes the world go blind,” Zuko said, as if quoting something. Briefly, for a split second, something flittered across his face. Something that made Hakoda think that Zuko hadn’t meant to say the words out loud. Junichi, shaking, turned to face him.
“What does that mean?” he half shouted, half shrieked. “My mother is dead and you’re making us go back to the people who sent her out to... You have us breaking bread with the people who murdered her.” Hakoda winced.
Something seemingly shattered behind the Prince’s eyes.
“The South Pole is nothing more than a few villages surviving on the edge of the ice,” he said, with the tone of certainty of one who had been there. Hakoda would have been terrified, if he didn’t already know courtesy of Sokka. “The Fire Nation has hurt them. The Chief took vengeance through justified vendetta. Only Agni has the power to intervene.” He paused, dropping his gaze from angry hazel. “I’m sorry for what happened to your mother, Junichi. But I made my own vow to her.”
Junichi shook in place a long moment. A second later, he burst into tears, slumping to the ground. The girl grabbed hold of him, tugging him into their little protective circle. The little boy, who had been so quiet and patient, unlike any six-year-old Hakoda had ever met, gently patted his shoulder, looking lost.
Hakoda wondered if he even knew what was happening.
Zuko barely slept that night. It was nearing dawn and he had probably closed his eyes for an hour. He could feel the sun beginning to rise, could hear sleepy murmurs as the night watch started to prepare to change. He knew that it was stupid to lie awake all night, to try and keep guard over these four charges when he would need all of his strength of face the Earth King by the end of the day’s journey to the Earth Kingdom Capital.
Please, Your Highness, she had begged him. Begged him still in the quiet before dawn. Please. You are the only one I trust to care for them. Her sacrifice was distraction enough for him to sneak them out of the windows and get them the hell out of Ba Sing Se.
Uncle always said he needed better planning skills. Uncle was now prisoner within the Palace, first by Azula and now by the Dai Li. If only Zuko had insisted on going with him instead of visiting Chinatsu and her children, adopted and not. But... Junichi’s father was Sergeant of the 41st. We ran when we heard the news. Same for Kasumi and Noriaki. Their mother just didn’t make it. A story so aching similar to ones that Zuko had been hearing over and over again within the walls of Ba Sing Se ever since Chinatsu had found him in Pao’s tea shop.
That Zuko had spilt tea on her on their first meeting had become a laughing point.
My small little kingdom, Zuko thought bleakly, seeing their faces behind his eyes now. And I could only save four of them. As always, he had failed at even this.
Mami whimpered in her sleep, pressed against his chest. She had refused to let go of him after the Chief reunited him with the others. He still didn’t know why. Zuko had one leg slung out of the hammock that the Water Tribe had provided for them and gently rocked the whole thing, lulling her back to sleep. Kasumi was a little tangle with Noriaki, the boy so brave but so woefully ignorant of what he had almost witnessed. Kasumi had held her small hands over his eyes before Zuko could get there.
He wished she hadn’t seen the execution either.
Chinatsu wasn’t their mother by blood, but she had been in every other sense of the word. Noriaki had been too young the last they saw their father before he, too, was lost in the massacre of the 41st. The pair had apparently arrived in Ba Sing Se only a few months ago, their mother quite literally starving herself to get them to a new life, a refuge from conscription for her small son in the future. She had died as they sailed into the city. Chinatsu had not hesitated to take them in before the local authorities could sweep in and whisk them away to who knew where.
Perhaps Noriaki just didn’t have the emotional capacity yet to mourn two mothers. Zuko’s heart twisted at the thought, holding Mami just a little closer. The baby didn’t seem to mind, snuggling in.
It was Junichi who worried Zuko the most. He knew what it was like, being thirteen and angry and grieving and stupid. He had spent three years in that same mindset, chasing hopeless dreams. The boy had sobbed himself to sleep that night, but he would be just as angry in the morning. Zuko couldn’t let him kill the Chief, though. He didn’t want him to live the burden of having taken a life.
He knew from experience, he would never be the same.
“You didn’t sleep,” a quiet voice whispered. Zuko blinked. He appeared to have briefly lost track of time. The sun had risen, dawn an hour gone. Kasumi was blinking at him from her hammock she shared with her brother. Noriaki was hugging her like the stuffed bear they had lost three days ago in the fields. He had screamed more over the lost toy than the loss of his surrogate mother.
“Not really,” he admitted. For a ten year old, Kasumi was incredibly perceptive. She had to be, to have survived so long. “But enough.” Kasumi gave him a look he hadn’t received since his mother discovered his previous bad sleeping habits. It almost made him smile, even as it broke his heart.
They lay in silence until the Water Tribe came to collect them.
The man named Bato tried taking Mami from him until she starting screaming. Zuko changed her as best he could. The Water Tribe let him use the last of the meagre supplies he had to change her. It was the last of it and he prayed it would last until they reached the city. Surely the Earth Kingdom wasn’t heartless enough to let a little girl suffer? She didn’t squirm as much as usual, making it far easier on Zuko who had been so woefully unprepared for this task bestowed upon him, he had almost set the wraps on fire when changing her the first time, he had been so nervous. He was getting better, slowly, but he would take small miracles. He thanked Agni every day she was old enough to eat solids. He didn’t know what he would have done if she still required milk.
At some point, between breakfast and leaving, someone had scrounged up a cart from a local farmer. The man looked none too happy to be handing over his precious ostrich-horse and cart, but considering it was spring, he hardly had great need of it. The Chief was busy paying him as Bato gestured for them to get in.
Zuko was worried about how quiet Junichi had been all morning. Food turned in his stomach, but he forced himself to eat. As undignified as losing his breakfast over the cart would be, he also knew he needed the strength. He had barely eaten for a week to feed these kids, he was not losing them at this newest hurdle.
Bato looked as if he knew how much he was struggling to eat. Perhaps he thought it was because Zuko was being picky, or that Zuko thought he was too good for Water Tribe fare. Zuko didn’t care about the quality of the food, only that it was edible and if he would keep it down long enough to gain some nutrition from it. The rest would come later.
(He remembered, with vivid detail, scarfing down food at the healer’s and not an hour later bringing up poor Song’s roast duck. His body so desperate for food, but unable to process such a heavy meal so quickly so soon. It was not the last time for such things to happen, especially not when Zuko’s own anxiety got the better of him.)
Thankfully, breakfast stayed down all of that morning. The Water Tribesmen joked among themselves, the Chief having brought several warriors with him to guard them. Whether as protection against the Earth Kingdom, or protection for them, it was hard to tell. He committed each face and name to memory. Tonraq was the burly man who had been guarding the door last night, Bato the Chief’s second. The Chief was Hakoda, while the youngest man they brought with them was Killik, who had been on deck when Junichi had his outburst. Yutu was the one who kept glaring at them. Tulok seemed close to Killik and kept shooting them mistrustful glances.
Zuko was glad that Kasumi had patience enough to play several thousand games of Look-And-See. He didn’t think he could divide his attention between the little ones and Junichi.
The boy was brooding, seething silently to himself. If Zuko wasn’t on the verge of collapse, running on a grand total of six hours over as many nights, he might have suggested walking but he knew that exercise could only do so much. And he didn’t trust the Water Tribe not to attack while he was distracted by the others should Junichi walk alongside. Which meant, there was little Zuko could do, other than worry and tie himself in knots regarding what awaited them within the city.
A city which was rapidly approaching.
Ba Sing Se seemed so different from this side now. The first time he saw the walls, he had wondered where exactly Uncle had breached. Where Lu Ten had died. He knew better than to ask, even as angry and desperate as he had been then. The anniversary came and went, Zuko overtaking Uncle’s shifts, working hard into the night and listening to a never ending supply of proverbs to learn the delicate art of tea making so Pao wouldn’t fire them on the spot. Neither of them spoke of it. This time around, Zuko felt as if he were being dragged here in chains, despite the lack of binds. Mami climbed into his lap and clung to him like a tiny leech. Even Junichi gravitated towards him.
It made him want to cry that they thought he could protect them.
They stopped before entering the gates, the men sitting and setting out their meals. This time Zuko had to beg leave for ablutions- two mouthfuls forced down were immediately rejected. Bato found him hunched over the bushes and seemed startled himself when he prevented Zuko from toppling over on the spot. Later, after the man had dropped him back in with the others in the cart, he overheard the man voicing concern that Zuko was sick. He wanted to laugh, to say that such fear and anxiety had always been a weakness of his, even at thirteen and stupid.
Zuko had always cared too much for his people, driving himself beyond his limits striving to be their perfect Prince. When that failed, he had done so striving to find the Avatar. At least there, he hadn’t made himself sick- he had been too angry to reach this level of anxiety. Fleeing Azula through the Earth Kingdom didn’t leave one with much time to think too hard and Zuko had allowed himself to be distracted in Ba Sing Se. No, the last time he had gone this far was before the fateful Agni Kai which had led him here.
Perhaps it was destiny after all.
Entering the city with the Water Tribe was far quicker than entering with the other refugees. For one thing, they were expected. For another, they had a small entourage gathered to greet them. Zuko ducked his head as the Water Tribe boy flew at the Chief in excited greetings.
“Dad!” Zuko pretended not to see the reunion. He didn’t want to see what he had always been denied. “You came!”
“Of course,” Hakoda said. The other warriors greeted Sokka gleefully, while the little blind girl who was the Avatar’s earthbending teacher stood to one side. She seemed to feel as awkward as Zuko felt.
“What have you got in the cart?” she piped up, question aimed at Bato who was on guard. Bato shifted awkwardly.
“Refugees,” he said flatly. “Fleeing the Dai Li.”
“What would they be doing that for?” Sokka asked. Zuko ducked his head, thankful for the first time for the longer hair which hid not only his face, but his scar. “Azula left the city.” Hakoda and Bato seemed to exchange glances.
“It would seem that not all of the Fire Nation in the city were soldiers,” he said quietly. Sokka blinked, confused. Then blinked again when he caught sight of burning hazel eyes. Mami squeaked and hid her face in Zuko’s chest.
“Oh,” he said densely. Then he paled. “Oh,” he repeated, “oh that’s not good.” He looked as if he wanted to sit.
“I think this is something to bring up with the Earth King,” Hakoda prompted. “There is another matter as well.” Sokka nodded and Zuko breathed a quiet sigh of relief. He hadn’t been spotted yet.
They were ushered out of the cart and into a train. Zuko was grateful that Sokka seemed intent on talking to his father, only sending brief, furtive glances towards them and not seeming to recognise Zuko. It might also help that he had been forced between Yutu and Tonraq, the two largest men in the group. Junichi had been stuck there as well. They must have been the heavy hitters against firebenders for the Water Tribe.
The earthbender girl, however, had no such compunctions.
“Where’s your Uncle?” she half demanded, flopping down next to him. Mami curled tighter against him, Noriaki hiding behind his sister. He hadn’t spoken a word since they left Ba Sing Se, just another thing to worry about. Junichi bristled at her tone.
“I don’t know,” he said quietly. “I thought you would. Azula had him.” She stiffened at the news.
“Well, I haven’t heard anything,” she said, cracking her hands, “but I’m sure I could find him.” Zuko didn’t know what to say. She cocked her head to one side. “Why do you have a small human attached to you?” He couldn’t help the small snort of amusement at that one.
“This is Mami,” he said. “She’s... scared.” He didn’t know what else to say. The girl blinked.
“So are you,” she said, as if this fact were obvious. Yutu smirked above them.
“She’s two,” Zuko countered, almost rolling his eyes in exasperation. “And she doesn’t know what’s going on.” I wish the others didn’t either. I wish even you weren’t involved in this. She was tiny, most likely the same age as the Avatar. It wasn’t something he wanted to think about.
“Uh huh. And that is?” She didn’t sound uninterested, or even derogatory. Zuko got the feeling she genuinely wanted to know.
“Her mother was killed in vendetta by the Water Tribe,” he said stiffly. Junichi had turned away, fists clenched and smoking at this conversation. “The Dai Li sent her out to them to face justice in old Fire Nation armour. She told me to get them out before the Dai Li got the children too.” The girl’s face had gone pale.
“How many Fire Nation civilians are there in Ba Sing Se?” she asked. The Water Tribe around them twitched, even the blurry forms of Sokka and Hakoda, sitting on his left, turned towards them at the question. Zuko swallowed the tears. He couldn’t afford to show weakness.
“I don’t know.”
Toph didn’t like what she was hearing. She had known, on some level, that the order of ‘rid the city of the Fire Nation’ was somewhat dubious, open to interpretation. She hadn’t want to think on it too much. Surely, not even her own parents would start going after kids.
The Dai Li were always an exception.
Sparky’s heart was fluttering at a mile a minuet, his whole body just one big jumble of worry. It almost disguised the tiny child in his arms, who whimpered every so often and clutched tight to him. The others kids in the group had barely spoken a word- the eldest aside from Sparky was practically vibrating with suppressed rage, the other two clinging to each other in desperation. Looking at them, she almost wanted to refute their claims, to argue that Kuei knew what he was doing. Unfortunately, that wasn't the truth.
“What do you mean you don’t know?” Sokka squeaked, suspicious. “And what are you doing here?” He seemed to have finally clocked just who was sat with them. Toph didn’t know what he had against Uncle’s grumpy nephew, but she knew enough from their only meeting that he cared deeply for the man. And she wasn’t stupid enough to just take their tales at face-value.
Banished to find the Avatar, one noble had laughed over dinner three years ago, daring to do so while she was in the room. The Fire Nation just do so love to cripple themselves, all we have to do is wait. He hadn’t been allowed back in the Beifong estate.
“He means he doesn’t know, Snoozles,” she drawled back, rolling her eyes at him.
“You mean there are more of you?” Snoozles had stiffened, seeming to already be planning how to get to them. Sparky stiffened in his seat, anger overruling fear for half a second.
“There were refugees from the Fire Nation too,” he spat. “Most of them kids whose parents were running from conscription.” He forced his jaw shut with an audible click, Toph wincing at the way he practically ground his teeth together. He was shaking in his seat.
One of the Water Tribe warriors snorted over her head.
“A likely story,” one of them muttered. She could feel his disgust through her feet. “As if any of you would grow up to be anything other than killers.”
One of the kids gasped. The angry kid jumped to his feet and someone shouted. For half a second, Toph felt heat by her face.
“Junichi!” Sparky’s voice was sharp, a ringing authority within it that had been absent before. It was a voice one did not say no to. It was a voice she had never heard from any of the rulers they had met before, not from Uncle, nor Kuei or even Long Feng.
She had, however, heard it from Azula.
Junichi sat back down, almost instinctively. The kid seemed to have some brains at the very least. Someone was muttering about how they couldn’t wait to get rid of the ashmakers. An awkward silence settled over them all as they hurtled through the Lower Ring. She could feel thousands of tiny heartbeats, so many emotions she couldn’t truly keep up.
The recurring emotion, however, was fear. She concentrated on the little family in the carriage with them, including one Prince. One Prince, who, she suddenly discovered, many a very good heat pack. Sokka let out a strangled noise.
“Are you hugging the Prince of the Fire Nation?” Sokka asked, as if he thought she was mad. Sparky had gone very still, as if wondering what to do with himself. Toph ignored all of them, only realising how cold the morning was. How cold she felt with everything they had learnt over the last few minuets.
“It’s cold,” she said practically. “He’s warm.”
“Warm Zuzu,” warbled a little voice just above her head. Half the carriage jumped. Toph blinked, feeling tiny hands pat her cheek. The toddler giggled. “Warm Zuzu!” she pronounced again, proud of herself.
Sokka felt as if he might expire on the spot by how hard he was wheezing.
“Oh, this is too weird,” he managed to get out as they hurtled into the Middle Ring. The trains were the best way to traverse a quarter of a continent in a day.
Toph ignored him and shuffled over to her new heat pack. If she were trying to give her own version of reassurance, she would never say.
It took three hours to reach the Upper Ring and the Palace of the Earth King. In that time, the Fire Nation kids said nothing, Sokka sputtering in the background about Sparky’s presence. Toph ignored him, happy to cling to him despite no longer being cold. Sparky’s heart rate spiked when the Palace came into view, disappointing considering that he had been calming in the past two hours. She had been hoping he would doze- his exhaustion seemed apparent to everyone except the Water Tribe.
She didn’t need to ask the kids if he had been sleeping.
They were swarmed by Kuei’s guards the moment they stepped out of the train. Toph graciously bowed out and let the six-year-old jump forward to grab Sparky’s spare hand. The toddler was balanced on his hip in a move that seemed to be becoming habit. The teen flanked him warily, a tiny guard against the world. It was so sad it was almost funny. Toph didn’t laugh though, because she wasn’t Azula.
Sokka’s Dad greeted the approaching General who was practically hopping on the spot in excitement.
“Ah, Chief! I see you have tracked down the other royal ashmaker in the city!” He was rubbing his hands together. “We’ll take them off your hands-”
“Actually, I have made a diplomatic pact with Prince Zuko already,” Hakoda stated. He was only half lying. “He wishes to speak to the Earth King.” Sparky’s breath hitched: clearly not part of their pact. But an opportunity no one else would give. There was a long pause and Toph could feel the General’s heart race in frustration.
“I see,” he said. “Men, round up! Be ready for any attack!” Toph could have told him it was fruitless.
She wondered how threatening Sparky must look to make the Earth Kingdom’s best shake in their boots while holding a baby and kid. Pansies, the lot of them she thought, mentally rolling her eyes.
As if Sparky was stupid enough to make an incident while protecting kids.
There was something decidedly odd watching Zuko hold a baby and kid while two others clung close. He almost hadn’t caught that they weren’t Earth Kingdom- their skin had tanned and they were dressed in Earth Kingdom clothing. All of them, even Prince Jerkface, that for a moment Sokka hadn’t even recognised him.
Must have been the hair. Made him seem less shifty.
Toph was sticking weirdly close to him, watching them all no doubt through her feet. That was weird too, watching her cuddle Zuko and the Prince not care. Either he was faking really well, or there was a modicum of truth to what he had said. And if what Zuko said was true...
No, he thought stubbornly, it can’t be. It’s just another one of his tricks, trying to capture Aang. As if the ashmakers would flee their own people. But if that were true, then it didn’t explain the kids clinging so tight to the Fire Prince. Even the baby was quiet, her eyes wide and frightened where they had been less so in the carriage of the train.
The little boy still had not spoken. According to his Father, they hadn’t heard him talk yet either, which was downright creepy. The girl was alternating between wide-eyed fright and glaring at him specifically. She seemed to know exactly what he was thinking.
Well, his information was backed up by the men of the Tribe. They all agreed: even if the kids were refugees, they were the minority, not the majority. Dad and Bato had been concerned initially, but he had set their fears to rest. A couple of days of being a decent person did not make up for everything the Prince had done in the past and he was no doubt trying to catch Aang still. Toph’s feet were probably broken or something.
He ignored the little voice that said that was highly unlikely.
Kuei was sitting on his throne, thankfully no Bosco in sight. Someone had no doubt pointed out that the bear was the least aggressive bear on the planet. He hadn’t even seen the thing bare it’s teeth at anyone yet. He seemed startled by the appearance of children in his presence, ever more so when Zuko was introduced.
Zuko offered him as polite a bow as he could, considering he still had an armful of small human. Bato had tried taking her before they entered the room- all he had received in thanks was a scream and he had quickly dropped the attempt. Junichi had glared at anyone who attempted to touch him. Dad had told him the other boy was a firebender too, not that he needed to be told after the display on the train.
If not for Zuko, Yutu would probably not have a face any longer.
“Ah, welcome to the Palace, Prince Zuko,” Kuei said almost awkwardly, openly staring at the Fire Nation Prince. Sokka almost facepalmed. A feeling that seemed to be shared by his Generals.
Zuko looked startled.
“Um... thank you?” There should be no reason why Zuko ought to sound so awkward himself. He seemed unsure what to say to that. Why do I get the feeling Zuko’s more comfortable with anger? Sokka found himself thinking. It was not a comfortable thought.
“And ah, who are your friends?” Kuei asked. He seemed a little lost on the whole situation. Sokka wanted to scream that Zuko was there to attack Aang no doubt, why were they wasting time asking about the kids! At least they looked equally baffled.
“This is Junichi and Mami,” Zuko said, gesturing first to the teen firebender and then the toddler in his arms, “and Kasumi and Noriaki.” This was to the ten-year-old girl and the boy who had exchanged clinging to Zuko’s hand for his pant leg and attempting to hide under his robes until they could see nothing but his feet and a pair of bright hazel eyes. “They’re refugees and non-combatants.” General How scoffed.
“A likely story,” he growled. “The boy is old enough to be enlisted in your armies.” A streak of the familiar anger flickered across Zuko’s face. He seemed to grow a couple of inches in height as he straightened, gold set on the man as if he could glare him to death.
“My sister and I are exceptions,” Zuko spat. “The age of conscription in the Fire Nation is sixteen, active duty eighteen. And I would point your fingers elsewhere General- I've seen your own militias attempt to recruit twelve year old kids to their armies.” A silent ‘like you’ve recruited a twelve year old kid’ seemed to echo loudly in the air.
Sokka almost winced for the man.
“Is this true?” Kuei asked sharply, eyes narrowing. His gaze wandered to the new Head of the Dai Li. Sokka didn’t know his name but the man tilted his head.
“By all known accounts we could find,” the agent agreed, face hidden under his hat. “Gan Shin village chased this boy out of town for fighting the militia on this point. And the last Royal in the field outside of Prince Zuko and Princess Azula, was Prince Lu Ten, who died aged twenty two at the walls of Ba Sing Se five years ago.” The delivery was bland. Sokka saw Zuko flinch anyway.
“So Princess Azula is the youngest combatant for the Fire Nation?” Kuei asked, mind stuck in all the wrong places as usual. Sokka wanted to bang his head against the wall.
“Yes, although she does not hold the title of youngest entrant to the field for the line of Sozin.” Zuko’s face was terrifyingly blank all of a sudden. Sokka frowned, about to refute that, but he never got the chance.
“You were thirteen when you entered the field, Prince Zuko.” Dad’s voice was soft but hard, eyes narrowed. Zuko didn’t droop per se, but the commanding presence was gone. He seemed to want to curl in on himself.
“I was an exception.” He said nothing else.
“Well, if the Prince says they are non-combatants, what are they doing with you then?” Kuei asked, painfully openly curious. Zuko stared at the man a moment and honestly? Sokka could understand that.
“They’re refugees,” Zuko repeated, almost numbly.
“Yes, you said that before?” Kuei said, not quite understanding.
“This is our home,” the girl, Kasumi, piped up in a small voice. General How scowled at her, but she balled her fists. “Mother starved herself so we could reach safety from the war.” Sokka felt his stomach drop, even as the girl barrelled on,” and Mama was killed by the... the men there, because of where we came from.” There were tears in her eyes. Kuei recoiled as if she had struck him personally.
“This... what?” Kuei was lost. Sokka was decidedly not.
“Hey, Dai Li guy,” he called, ignoring the scandalised twitches from around the room, “how many Fire Nation citizens are in Ba Sing Se?” The man seemed to think a moment.
“The last census counted three thousand five hundred and sixty-seven refugees within the walls of Ba Sing Se who claim origin from the now Colonies with Fire Nation features,” the man rattled off. “We are yet to conduct a full audit from the influx of soldiers after Princess Azula’s attempted coup.” Zuko swayed on the spot. Kuei paled considerably.
“The last census,” he said blankly, green eyes alight in anger. “You are telling me that there have been Fire Nation citizens living peacefully within these walls?” The agent nodded. “And they had no part in the coup?” Another nod. “And you have been rounding them up?” Kuei’s eyes were fixed on the toddler in Zuko’s arms.
The agent looked startled from under his hat. “They were you order, Your Majesty,” he said, seemingly confused. “You gave us orders to gather all Fire Nation and remove them from the city, with force if needs be.” Kuei looked as if he were about to be sick, hands clenching on his throne.
“I see.” He straightened, eyes turning to the Dai Li agent. “I have new orders. All combative Fire Nation soldiers are to be rounded up and expelled from the new influx. Those citizens included in the last census are to be questioned and released. I want to know their reasons for fleeing and settling here and then I want to know which may be dangerous. And someone get these children something to eat and a place to stay before they collapse where they stand!” A servant scuttled out of the room at Kuei’s raised voice. Even Sokka was surprised- Kuei had been pretty even tempered even throughout the whole mess with Long Feng.
It was surprising to hear him start to shout.
“Prince Zuko,” Kuei stated then, standing. Zuko twitched half a step back. “Will you take responsibility of your peoples who live inside these walls?” Zuko barely even considered.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” he said, almost instantaneously.
“Then they are granted temporary asylum within Ba Sing Se. You understand that I cannot let you leave the Palace?” Zuko nodded, oddly silent. Sokka wondered what was up with him. “And that we will have to hold you as an official hostage of the Earth Kingdom?” Another nod, although more hesitant this time. Kuei’s eyes softened and Sokka frowned. There was no need to show sympathy to the jerkbender! “You and your friends will have rooms here in the Palace until I have this mess sorted out. Should they have need of you, your people will be granted an audience with you, but you are not allowed to leave the Palace to speak with them and will be under constant guard and supervision. Are these terms acceptable?”
“Yes,” Zuko whispered. Toph twitched.
“Woah, someone catch him he’s gonna-” she shouted just as Zuko crumpled in on himself. The hall froze a moment, silence ringing loud, even the baby shocked into it. It was broken by Kuei.
“Oh dear, is he alright?” Sokka really needed that wall for his head.