Chapter Text
Zuko panted, exhaustion ringing through him as he kept his gaze on the ground in front of him. His hand twitched to go to his water bottle, but he resisted. It would be just as empty as the last dozen times he’d reached for it. A part of him was still tempted to try for one more drop, but the rational side that knew that he’d already drunk that last drop managed to push the impulse down.
“Perhaps we should rest, Nephew.” Uncle said from his position on the ostrich horse. Zuko didn’t bother glancing at him as he shook his head.
“The village we saw from the hill should be just over this ridge.” The teen managed between his heavy gasps. “We can rest once we get there.”
Iroh hummed his ‘I-am-doubting-you-but-know-that-voicing-this-will-make-you-more-stubborn-so-I’m-hoping-this-will-do-something’ hum. Zuko wished he could speed up and put some distance between himself and Uncle’s disapproval, but it was all he could do to keep plodding forward.
He could hear the woman on Dragon “quietly” apologize, insisting that she was more than happy to walk for a bit. Zuko tensed, but Iroh knew him well after all this time, and the man simply chuckled. “My Lee is a stubborn boy, especially when it comes to what he believes is right. I am afraid very little could convince him to take your place. Perhaps a broken limb, but even then I’m not so sure.” The man laughed good-naturedly. Zuko grit his teeth, but didn’t bother wasting the energy to reply. The other two who were on their feet let out breathless laughs, but were similarly focusing on simply moving forward.
The Fire Nation royals had run into the trio of refugees the day before. Iroh had been drawn to the smell of their dinner, meat sizzling over the firepit. They were going towards Ba Sing Se as well, and while it was not safe for them to travel together long term, Zuko had seen that one of the women was pregnant and insisted that they travel together to the next town. He had been adamant that she take his seat on Dragon, with Iroh and the woman’s companions trading out the second spot in regular intervals. Zuko alone had made the rest of the journey by foot, and he was looking forward to hitting the town, mentally budgeting whether or not they would have enough coin for a night in an inn.
Definitely not.
They might have enough for two hot meals and some ostrich-horse feed, depending on the prices. His stomach rumbled at the thought. While they hadn’t gone hungry-hungry yet, helping support the three other travelers had bit into the supplies they had purchased with his storytelling money. They’d had to ration a bit, but that was better than slowing down their journey to allow the strangers time to forage as they had been intending.
It was fine, maybe he could try storytelling for tips again.
He just had to figure out how to start it on purpose.
Zuko signed in relief as they crested the hill and finally spotted the derelict outskirts of a town. There were echoing sounds from the others, but he forged ahead, passing gamblers until he came up to what looked like a merchant stand. “Could I get some water, hot meals, and some feed?” He asked, dehydration making his voice even harsher than it typically was.
The man inclined his head at a water pump a few yards away. “Hot meals for all of ya? And how much feed do you need?” The man grimaced. “Prices are going up, too. That isn’t me trying to cheat you, it’s just… the war.”
Zuko grimaced, but before he could begin the long haggling process, a hand on his shoulder stopped him. The husband of the pregnant woman smiled at teen calmly, Iroh at his shoulder. “Please, you have done so much for us, rest for a bit.”
Zuko nodded, taking the out. He was good at arguing, as long as one didn’t measure his skill based on whether or not his arguing actually got him his way. He would let someone else haggle. The teen moved to the water pump, filling his waterskin and draining it almost as quickly. As he filled up the skin a second time, he took a careful look around the town. It was clearly isolated, few shops, and those held mostly farming supplies and simple, sturdy-looking clothing. The buildings looked one natural disaster away from being rubble, and the people looked hardened or fearful. He noticed for the first time that the gamblers were glaring at them, and he glared back.
He was much better at it than them.
The man visibly scoffed at him and turned back to the game. Zuko continued scanning the town, but kept his senses half-trained on their group. They seemed dangerous. He wasn’t necessarily physically intimidated, he could take them, but they seemed like the type to create problems just to throw their weight around. Those types of people were dangerous.
Zuko would know. He grew up with two of them.
It was because he was splitting his attention that he saw a pair of kids just the right age to cause trouble peek out from an alley. The kids giggled to each other, then the taller one threw an egg at the gamblers.
One side of Zuko’s lips twitch up-it was funny- but apparently that movement alone had the gamblers turning on him when the kids disappeared the moment the egg left their hand. “Hey! You throwing eggs at us stranger?”
“No.” Zuko responded simply, refusing to give into their posturing attempt to incite him to start the fight. It had never worked with Azula, but then again Azula knew exactly how to get his rage boiling. These random soldiers wouldn’t be able to do it so easily.
At least, he hoped not.
“You see who did throw it?”
“No.”
One of the other men scoffed. “Is that your favorite word: No?” Was this what constituted insults and fights in the Earth Kingdom? Azula could have done better in her sleep. Then again, so could Jet. Maybe these guys were just idiots.
“Egg had to come from somewhere.” The original man insisted.
“Maybe a chicken flew over.” Zuko offered, tone still even and posture non-combative, even if he was counting the time in which he could become combative in milliseconds. One of the men laughed, and Zuko had to stop himself from smirking again. He really didn’t want to start a fight now. Not because he was worried about losing, but who knew what that would do to the prices Uncle and the stranger were working so hard to haggle on.
The original gambler stepped forward angrily, his hand lingering towards the stone hammer at his feet, but before he could come much closer, Zuko felt a presence at his back.
“Is there a problem, nephew?”
Zuko looked back to see that their traveling companions had finished speaking with the merchant as well, and were standing behind him. Suddenly the group were not facing a single stranger, but instead a group of five. Two of the five were clearly non-combative, three if you take Uncle at his appearance, but still the men paused. Evidently, they weren’t interested in a fight unless it was dangerously one-sided.
Yeah, they seemed the type.
Still, the men lingered, eyeing the cowering young girl and the pregnant woman, clearly trying to decide if the fight was still worth it. Out of the corner of his good eye, Zuko saw Iroh shift, moving his feet so that they were solidly in position. As someone who trained under the retired general, Zuko recognized it as the firebender rooting his stance. However, to the strangers the move was eerily close to an earthbender getting closer to their element.
Maybe that was intentional. Uncle did always enjoy studying other forms of bending, and who would know roots better than an Earthbender?
The leader of the group scoffed and turned away, headed back to the crates they were gambling at. “You aren’t even worth it,” The man grumbled. “But you better not linger, you’re not welcome here.”
The family sighed in relief, though Iroh and Zuko kept a wary half-eye on the thugs, just in case, as they said their goodbyes. The family were extremely appreciative, louding their gratitude as they prepared to split off on their own. Zuko and Iroh would want to wait until nightfall to move off again, and it would be better to separate rather than risk the strangers coming face to face with their enemies. Besides, the strangers were relatively well-rested and eager to get to Ba Sing Se before it was time for the baby to be born.
As with most social interactions, Zuko stepped back to let Iroh handle all that. As he did, he heard a small “Pst!”
He looked down to see, crouched next to the water trough, was one of the kids who threw the egg.
“Thanks for not ratting me out!”
Zuko blinked. What was with random kids coming up to him? This never happened before the Northern Water Tribe story hut. Did they do something to him? “Uh, you're welcome, I guess.” He turned back to Uncle, about to insist they find a place to rest until heading out again. He didn’t think storytelling would go over well with those men watching them. Before he could say anything, the kid darted in front of him.
“Come on, I'll take you to my house and feed your ostrich horse for you! They eat a lot, and if you’re traveling you probably want to save your grain!”
“Uh, I don’t…”
“Come on! I owe you!”
“Ah, who is your young friend?” Iroh asked, amusement licking up his warm tones. Zuko sighed heavily. Well, there was no getting out of it now.
Sokka groaned as he peeled himself out of the water. Okay okay, he got it. Aang says the swamp is calling to him, yeah not creepy at all, except now they got kidnapped by the swamp. Swamp-napped.
No wait, that would mean they kidnapped the swamp. Kid-swamped? No, that was bad too. Just stick with kidnapped. Or how about his old friend denial? That usually worked out for him, right? Like, a good 70% of the time at least. Yeah, the swamp didn’t maliciously attack and kidnap them, it was totally reasonable that when Aang didn’t follow the hypnotic thrall of this clump of gross trees, a tornado came up out of nowhere to pull him down anyway.
Yep. Made perfect sense.
“Sokka, you’ve got an elbow leech.” Katara interrupted his panic spiral.
The boy yelped. “What? Where?”
“Where do you think?”
Well excuse him for not thinking straight after a totally normal tornado popped up to, uh naturally pull them into the not-haunted-at-all swamp. “Why do things keep attaching to me?” He cried out, peeling the leech from his elbow (duh).
Aang finished yelling for Appa and Momo and swooped down.
“You couldn’t find them?” Katara asked.
“No, and the tornado… it just disappeared.”
YUP. This was… totally… normal.
Zuko looked around as the kid led them through the pathways to a farm that was nearly screaming with the racket of Pig-chickens and pig-cows and pig-sheet, and well, just about any pig-hybrid that existed, this place probably has it.
And they were loud.
“No one can ever sneak up on us.” The kid bragged.
“No kidding.” Zuko smirked as Iroh chuckled. The kid tugged the reins out of Zuko’s hands. At first the teen resisted, muscle memory too ingrained with the desire to hold tight onto anything given, to never release unless it was forced from his hand or coerced with the threat-promise pair of starvation vs food. Luckily, he was able to force rational thought relatively quickly, and dropped the reins before the, somewhat oblivious, boy realized what he was doing.
The child began leading Dragon into the barn, and Zuko moved to follow still when a man appeared from the field beyond the home. A woman hovered at the edge of the barn warily, her eyes darting between her son and the pair of strangers.
“You friends of Lee’s?” The man said, his voice the oddest mixture of wariness while trying, wanting, to be hospitable. The voice of a truly friendly man who had wariness beat into him by war and fear.
For a moment, Zuko blinked, thrown by the man asking if he was a friend of his own fake name. Luckily, the child popped out of the barn to save him. “These guys just stood up to the soldiers! By the end, they practically had them running away!”
That wasn’t quite how Zuko remembered it, but it seemed this Lee was also a bit of a storyteller.
“Do ‘these guys’ have a name?”
Zuko hesitated. He’d known that ‘Lee’ was common in both the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom, it was one of the reasons why he’d chosen it. (A lot of the Freedom Fighters had been named ‘Lee’ by their parents before they got all the weird nicknames. He half thought that was why they all had nicknames.) It still felt just… extra fake to say that your fake name was the same as someone’s real name. Luckily, Iroh didn’t seem to have the same reservations. “I’m Mushi, and my Nephew is a Lee as well!” He laughed.
The mother and father pair smiled, warming a bit more to the strangers. “It is a common name.” The woman said. “Our Lee is named after my Father.”
“As are the other dozen ‘Lee’s that I know.” The man chuckled. “I am Gansu, and my wife is named Sela. You have already met Lee. Please, come and sit. Anyone who can hold his own against those bully soldiers is welcome here. Those men should be ashamed to wear Earth Kingdom uniforms.”
Sela nodded. “The real soldiers are off fighting the war, like Lee’s big brother Sensu.”
Zuko shifted uneasily, unsure how to respond to the mix of sadness and pride. Luckily, the woman shook herself a moment later. “Supper’s going to be ready soon enough, I will have to add a bit, but it shouldn’t be long.”
Iroh happily began to compliment the woman on the smell of dinner, though the scent of a meal could barely penetrate the pig-animal hybrids. Zuko however, looked at the small farm, the threadbare clothes on the family, the derelict and run-down home and barn. Uncle had never come to want, he didn’t know it well enough to recognize the signs. Zuko didn’t have that luxury.
“We shouldn’t. We appreciate your feed for Dra-for our ostrich-horse, and for your offer, but we should be on our way.”
“Nephew,” Iroh practically moaned, and Zuko felt his resolve falter, though it remained standing. The Fire Nation had taken much from this family without recompense, it seemed cruel to add even two meals to the tally.
Sela, however, caught his eye and seemed to understand somewhat. “That’s too bad,” She said knowingly. “Gansu really needed some help on the barn. With our eldest gone, and Lee so young, we didn’t have anyone else strong enough to drive the nails through the tiles. I was going to ask for some help while I finished cooking.”
Zuko eyed the woman’s arms which revealed the wiry strength of someone who worked hard and constantly for their living and recognized the lie for what it was: a counteroffer. Unfortunately, so did Iroh, who grinned. “Come nephew, what honor would we have if we refused this lovely woman in her time of need.”
Zuko sighed heavily and set his bag down. “Tell me what you need me to do.”
He studiously ignored the look of victory that the family shared. Some hard labor for food, very different than storytelling, but how hard could it be?
Everything sucked. Sokka was officially done with swamps. After an entire afternoon of yelling for Appa and Momo and cutting through so many vines that his machete was starting to dull, they were trying to make camp in gross moss-and-mud filled vines, with stinky swamp-gas constantly bubbling, and, apparently birds that screamed like someone was dying.
Sokka gulped as the bird flew off. “I think we should build a fire.”
He scrambled to pry some bark off the nearby trees. It was all damp, again swamp, but if he tried hard enough he was pretty sure he could get it.
“Sokka, the longer we’re here, the more I think you shouldn’t be doing that.”
A valid concern, but one Sokka was electing to ignore in favor of doing anything. “No, I asked the swamp. It said this was fine.” For emphasis he grabbed a root and shook it. “Right swamp? No problem, Sokka!”
Aang looked annoyed, but didn’t protest any more. It wasn’t that hard to get a fire going, (though he was a bit out of practice from letting Zuko do it all the time) and soon they were falling asleep under the gaze of a hundred swamp monsters that may or may not want to eat them.
This is fine.
Or at least, it was fine until Sokka woke up to a vine yoinking him away from the others, it’s ropey vine digging into his leg as he was pulled through the swamp, mud and leaves. Thinking quickly, Sokka flipped onto his stomach, digging the blade of his machete into the ground, and though the rope pulled at him, he held fast. Katara and Aang were not so lucky, as they quickly disappeared into the heavily-covered vegitation. More and more vines appeared, constricting around him like some kind of tree-snake and pulling at him. The boy dropped his machete, pulling the sword off its scabbard at his back. Unlike the machete, it wasn't made for clearing and hacking through foliage, but it’s sharp edge cleaved through the vines easily enough for the moment, and after a few pointed sweeps, the attack stopped. It didn’t matter though, the others were long, long gone.
Okay, fine, the swamp might possibly be haunted.
Maybe.
The teen got to his feet, picking up his machete in one hand while keeping his grip on his sword in another. He may not be able to dual wield like Zuko, but he could beat some vines. He started hacking his way through the undergrowth, softly cursing his luck as he went. The teen only paused when he caught a glimpse of familiar blue out of the corner of his eye. Wait, it could be- “Dad?” He called.
Hakoda stared at him nearly expressionless, then turned and began walking away without a word. Sokka jerked and darted after the familiar sight of his father’s back as he walked away.
“Wait!” He cried out. “I- I have so much to tell you! I helped invent human flight! I earned the mark of the wise with Bato! Katara and I found the Avatar! I rescued a prisoner from some jerk freedom fighters and kept Katara from crushing on their ringleader. I can use a sword! Wait, where are you going? Zuko said you’d be proud.”
But Hakoda didn’t turn, somehow remaining several feet ahead no matter how quickly and frantically Sokka scrambled after him.