Work Text:
i steal a few breaths from the world for a minute
and then i’ll be nothing forever
and all of my memories
and all of the things i have seen will be gone
with my eyes, with my body, with me
but me and my husband, we are doing better
(...) and i am the idiot with the painted face
in the corner taking up space
but when he walks in, i am loved, i am loved
me and my husband, we are doing better
(...) so i bet all i have on that furrowed brow.
me and my husband - mitski
Zuko sighs. He comes back to the Fire Nation almost numb.
It’s a confusing change, going from a banished honorless prince chasing what the world believed to be a myth (Zuko, though, he never believed the myth to be anything but the truth; it had to be true), to a refugee and a runaway and a declared enemy of two entire states, to the Crown Prince of the Fire Nation, and all that it implicates. It feels as if he had stolen a few breaths from the world for a while, a little while, and then, nothing. Then, all this.
When he gets his welcome from the people (it is known, a celebration almost too enthusiastic for it not to mean a better liking of Zuko rather than Ozai from the common people, but nobody needs to talk about that), Zuko still remembers Lee’s cursing at him, the rejection of his knife and his person itself, the anger of those towns at knowing who Zuko was. When he sleeps on the silk red and gold sheets, Zuko still remembers the cold ground of the Earth Kingdom he slept on for months as a refugee, as he has breakfast from the finest silver plate, he remembers the hunger he felt. Hunger that kept him awake at night.
He sees the servants of the palace bowing in fear, rather than respect, and he sees his Father’s advisors and generals step over the servants like furniture, as they come to show Zuko a mild respect after they learn he was the one to take down the Avatar (he wasn’t — yet another thing that Zuko hasn’t earned). He remembers all the people he met, all the misery he saw, all the misery he lived.
But Zuko is now back at being the Fire Nation’s Crown Prince. All he could’ve done before is gone, with the eyes and the thoughts he left with his uncle and at the Earth Kingdom. There’s nothing left but a pristine image of the boy– the man Zuko should’ve always been.
Besides, he and his father — they’re doing better.
Sure, there is a certain tension that comes with Zuko having been a failure of a son for sixteen years before his redemption (a redemption that was not even his, he does not enjoy remembering, but he always does it anyway), and there is that aura of unease in Zuko whenever Ozai enters the room, as if he was about to burn the other half of his face off for breathing incorrectly. Lately though, every thing Zuko does seems fundamentally tainted.
But they are back together, with Azula, like a family. They are doing better, and Zuko is back home, so at least until he’s crowned or punished again for another inevitable mistake, now that Zuko has his honor back, his home, they are sticking together. He’s going to bet all he has on that, he promises to himself after coming back from the beach.
Going back to Ember Island was certainly a conflicting experience. He was on the verge of ending it all back then and it all seems so silly now — he has Mai, and he has Azula, and he has his father. There is nothing to be so angry about, there is nothing to be so frustrated about, nothing to be afraid of. Everything is fine.
When Azula and Ty Lee pass by him on the hallway, he knows they are whispering about him, as if he was ten years old again being called names that even Ozai was disgusted by the mere idea of, and if he ever heard Azula mention it he wouldn’t acknowledge Zuko’s existence for an entire month. But he supposes that is simply Zuko’s role in the world — an idiot, taking up space.
Zuko makes the mistake of passing by the tea room, where Ozai sometimes enjoys passing time. His bones threaten to shake as he hears his father’s voice before his words even register in his brain.
“Zuko,” he says, pleasant and polite. “My son. Why don’t you join me for a cup of tea?”
Having tea with Ozai has no reason to be different from sharing tea with Iroh. He even calls him ‘son’ the same way Iroh used to call him ‘nephew’. And Iroh is a traitor, Zuko needs to remind himself. But, he and his father are doing better. This invitation is proof of that.
“Father!” he says, more quietly and less secure in his shoes than what should be expected from a prince. He clears his throat, “Yes, of course. I’d— I’d love to.”
Brewing tea is one of the things Ozai and Iroh share. It’s an odd thing to remember, but right now, as he sits in front of his father, a golden mug with dandelion tea waiting for him, Zuko cannot help but notice that peculiar detail.
“Drink,” Ozai says, and as if to make it less of the threat that it was and more of an invitation, he adds, “please.”
Zuko obeys, of course. They are doing better. He doesn’t want to ruin that for them both.
The brewing is different from Iroh’s. A lot more invasive, treasonous thought of Zuko’s supplies. He drinks anyways.
“It’s good.”
“Zuko,” Ozai says, a lot more serious than before. Zuko’s blood freezes. “You are very tense. Did that trip to the beach do any good to your anxiety from the Earth Kingdom?”
Zuko swallows. Ozai’s brow is furrowed and Zuko cannot stop looking at it, wondering if it ever stopped from being furrowed that way.
“It was good,” he tells him, at an appropriate time.
Ozai nods, seemingly thinking about this answer. This might be even more of a treasonous thought than the brewing of the tea, but, it seems to Zuko, it’s all very… theatrical. As if Ozai were having fun with it all.
(But… they are doing better.)
Ozai looks him in the eye. “Your scar gets unnervingly tense when you’re anxious. It’s not a good look on you, you know?” he comments before having a sip of his tea. Zuko’s heart beats with a heat of fury that surprises him more than it should. “There’s no need to have inhibitions around me, my son.”
Zuko has been still for a long time now. He believes his tea has gone a little lukewarm by now. “Of course there isn’t, father.”
Ozai nods approvingly — theatrically. “I only want what’s best for you. You know that.”
Zuko does know that. They are doing better now. At least in this lifetime, Zuko is going to try and keep it that way.
Two days later the war council agrees on targeting the Earth Kingdom on the day of Sozin’s Comet. Burning it to the ground.
Zuko sits down on the floor of his room, hands shaking and tears falling down his face. He has jasmine tea still warm on his desk, a scroll and too many emotions to spit and paint them on paper.
Still, he sits down, he writes.