Work Text:
A feather in the wind
As he did almost every morning, Zuko opened his eyes to the first rays of sunshine that slithered into his room through the blinds. He vaguely remembered loving it as a kid, to wake up as early as possible on his birthday. By his logic, his birthday lasted the longest that way. He'd never understood how other people could enjoy sleeping in on their birthdays.
Until his mother disappeared— or rather, as Zuko now knew, until she quietly divorced Ozai with dozens of contracts, giving him full custody in the process. After that, his birthday had been a day like any other, whether he got up early or late. The birthdays when only Ozai had been there also became the ones when his father hadn't actually been there at all. His father would congratulate him briefly, a word or two, and that was it. Of course, there had been big celebrations; after all, Zuko was the son of one of the richest and, above all, most influential entrepreneurs in the country. But the celebrations had clearly been for the adults, not the kids, and certainly not for Zuko. This was also clearly noticeable in the fact that the many high-ranking and also far too wealthy guests had usually been invited without their children.
After the argument, after the accida-- after his father had burned him, there came the birthdays when most of the time he wouldn't get up at all, even on school days. It wasn't as if Ozai kept in touch with him more on those days than on others – namely none, so he'd rarely noticed when his son wasn't at school but was still in bed. His grades were awful anyway.
Zuko let his gaze wander from the window to the ceiling above him as if interesting patterns would appear in the monotonous white if he looked long enough. He knew today's birthday would be different. He knew that Uncle would undoubtedly have prepared something, or at least would definitely say something. He would hug him for sure. Zuko was surprised at how natural and hopeful that thought came. So many years in which he'd blocked his uncle's attempts to offer him physical comfort with swearing and rude gestures. But now that Ozai was incarcerated and Zuko could see the world without the grey glasses his father had put on him, he found more and more a desire to accept his uncle's kindness.
Zuko turned sideways with a yawn and let his legs sink over the edge of the bed until his feet found the warm wooden floor. He sat up with a jerk, threw on his dressing gown and went into the bathroom. Another thing he'd never understood about other people was why most of them dressed up extra fine on their birthdays. Why waste so much time on your own birthday when you were only at home? Zuko banished the thought that he might only have such a dislike for it because, as a child, it had been expected as the norm to look smart every day, groomed and dressed in a suit depending on what guests were expected. Or, and he wanted to consider that option even less, maybe he had lost every spark of vanity along with the left side of his face.
Zuko washed away the gloomy thoughts with cold water over his head and made his way downstairs. Halfway down the stairs, he was greeted by the smell of sweet rice porridge and his uncle's humming. Zuko stood for a moment at the bottom of the stairs, inhaling the scent of cinnamon and warm coconut milk that the food gave off.
When Zuko entered the kitchen, his uncle was filling two large bowls with the sweet congee. Two columns of steam rose in front of him as he carried a bowl in each hand, and he looked up to see Zuko. His ever-present smile turned into a wide grin.
"Good morning, Zuko!"
Zuko found his uncle's smile infectious, something that, to his surprise - and his uncle's great delight - had been happening more and more often over the past few weeks.
"Hi, Uncle."
Iroh placed the hot bowls on the table, and before Zuko could even sit down, his uncle had scrambled around the table and wrapped him in a literally breath-taking hug.
"Happy birthday, Zuko." In contrast to his hug, Iroh's words were soft, quiet, and barely audible. Maybe that's why Zuko's thanks got choked in his throat. However, his uncle seemed to hear it anyway as he gave him an extra hard squeeze before gently pushing him back and down onto his chair.
They ate in comfortable silence, a silence carried by warmth and familiarity. But when Iroh disappeared into the kitchen with his bowl, he didn't come back with a second helping, as Zuko had assumed, but instead held a small, rectangular wooden box. Zuko tried to focus on the rest of his breakfast instead of staring at the obvious gift. It was rude and showed greed and lack of self-control to-- he angrily dismissed Ozai's words with a shake of his head and put down the spoon.
This time he openly returned his uncle's smile as he accepted the box... which wasn't a box at all. Surprised, Zuko looked at the item, which was wrapped in gift paper printed with a very fine pattern that resembled a wooden structure. He carefully peeled off the tape and was relieved at his caution as he pulled a noticeably old, dingy book out of the paper.
It was an issue of Love Amongst the Dragons.
"I know you've read the story many times and probably heard it many more times, but I got this edition from a friend who works in the old library at Wan Shi Ton University. It is said to have originally been dated almost a century ago and also contains many interpretations and notes by several writers who--"
Iroh's words were drowned out by the smell of old paper when Zuko opened the book and saw the old squiggly typeface with countless pencil marks and handwritten footnotes. That was incredible!
"Thank you," he breathed.
His uncle interrupted himself to smile at him. Suddenly he looked at his watch and stretched, groaning as if his muscles were sore.
"Do you have any plans for today, nephew?"
Surprised, Zuko looked up from the play's introductory text.
"Uhm." He suddenly felt insecure.
What should he answer? His uncle expected a specific answer. Iroh knew Zuko didn't have any friends to set things up with for his birthday. And usually, all his activities outside of school or reading consisted of ventures organized by his uncle. Wow, now that he thought about it, his life sounded pathetic.
His uncle must have come to the same conclusion because he continued without waiting for a proper reply from Zuko.
"I know it's your birthday, and I'm sorry this is happening today. But an old friend called me last night to ask if I could help him out today. He said there were some things he had to do at work that couldn't wait. But I'm afraid I can feel the impending change of weather in my old bones." He massaged his left wrist, his face contorted in pain. "I promise it won't be long, but could I ask you to do some of this work for me?"
Zuko frowned out the window. The late summer sun broke through a few light clouds and promised nothing but fine weather. Also, when the weather turned, he could usually feel it in his scar, much to his chagrin. Not that he would ever admit this to his uncle.
But Zuko owed his uncle more than he would ever be able to repay.
"Of course, uncle."
--- --- ---
The scribbled handwriting would have been difficult to decipher even if it had been written in modern script. But this hundred-year-old claw was almost impossible to read. Zuko suspected, however, that whoever was doing the thinking here was pondering the rhythm of the maid's dialogue in this Act I passage. That would be understandable, at least in his opinion.
He barely noticed when the steady engine noise that had been enveloping him for some time died down, and Uncle's car came to a halt.
"Here we are."
At Iroh's words, Zuko blinked up from the book. His uncle had parked in front of a one-story white building that was surrounded by a very high fence some distance away, creating a spacious garden in front of the front door. Zuko looked around, confused, but apart from the one house, there was nothing to see but forest and meadow. Where were they? When Uncle had spoken of a friend who needed help at work, Zuko had thought of an office building, or maybe a restaurant or some other tea shop. Not on a-- his gaze found the faded sign above the front door.
Animal shelter.
"Uncle?"
Iroh opened the door, already getting out of the car.
"Yes?"
Zuko rushed to follow him and then asked over the roof of the car, "What are we doing here?"
"I'm here to help, of course. As I said."
Zuko frowned in confusion.
"No, you said I would help because you hurt everywhere. "
Suddenly his uncle laughed, stretched his arms to the sky and walked towards the garden gate.
"You know, that wonderful country air does seem to work wonders. I feel like a new person."
"What? But--" But Iroh was already stepping through the garden gate and out of earshot as he disappeared inside the shelter. Zuko placed his book carefully in the glove compartment with a longing look in his eyes. If he wasn't actually needed, he could always wait in the car and read. But he wouldn't risk any dog gorging on that precious book.
Zuko thanked all the gods for his foresight when he opened the front door his uncle had just disappeared through. He hadn't even crossed the threshold when he was murdered by a yeti with a final scream.
"Appa, no!"
Zuko opened his, surprisingly not dead, eyes and met those of a giant, fluffy white dog.
"I am so sorry!"
The dog's, Appa's, massive front paws were pulled away from Zuko's shoulders with a jerk. As the dog dropped back onto all fours, a boy in a bright yellow hoodie appeared behind him.
Before Zuko could reply, the boy was already talking in a rush.
"Hi, Welcome to Air Temple Sanctuary Animal Shelter. I'm Aang, and this," he gestured at the massive dog with his free hand, "is Appa." Zuko nodded vaguely, not knowing what to say but not feeling like an answer was expected of him anyway.
His gaze lingered on Aang's hand, which held the dog's harness. A meandering blue tattoo stretched across the back of his hand and disappeared under the sleeve of the hoodie. Huh, Aang must be older than he looked.
"You're going to help your uncle today too, yes?" Aang's question was accompanied by a grin so wide that Zuko ignored the odd tone in Aang's voice.
"Yeah, but uncle said he didn't need any help, so..." He looked uncertainly at his uncle, who had been watching from a low chair. But his uncle just shrugged as if he didn't have an answer to an unasked question.
"That's a shame because there's a lot to help. So, if you still want to help, the animals would be very grateful!" Aang's eyes were a perfect imitation of any dog's gaze. Did he learn that in training? Or did he have the job because of that ability? It wasn't the eyes, however, that made Zuko agree, but the fact that it was for the welfare of the animals and not for anyone's economic interests.
Aang clapped his hands excitedly, then simply grabbed Zuko's hand and dragged him down a hallway. What was wrong with this boy? Because, tattoos or not, Aang acted like a twelve-year-old.
"Well, the best way to help is to just spend time with those animals that you're comfortable being near."
Zuko's determination to help was not reinforced by the unspoken suggestion he might be scared of something; certainly not!
Aang led him to a wide, grey steel door with black paw prints taped to it. A sad attempt to improve the suddenly dreary atmosphere.
"These cuties are not allowed outside in the outdoor enclosure for various reasons. It's not good for them to sit indoors alone all day, though." Aang ushered him through the door with a cheery wave and a quiet, sincere thank you.
Zuko tried not to think about how many times Uncle had said similar words of concern to him in a worried tone over the past few months. Behind him, the metal door shut him off from the human world with a final click.
--- --- ---
Zuko hadn't asked which animals Aang was taking him to, and he hadn't recognized the paw prints - if they were those of the occupants of the room, anyway, and not just random decorations. Zuko looked around. The room seemed empty.
It wasn't really empty, of course; on the contrary. Dozens of boxes hung on each wall at different heights, massive beams were mounted on the ceiling that stretched across the room and balls and bells, and tree branches hung from many of them on cords.
Spirits, did Aang put him in with monkeys? Were animal shelters even allowed to take in monkeys?
For a moment, he toyed with the idea of looking into one of the boxes. But what should he really do with an animal if he found one? He had never had a pet; he did not know how to take care of animals. Now that he thought about it, it was bloody irresponsible of Aang to let him in here alone.
Zuko sat down on a low seating area that stood in the middle of the room and looked out of the floor-to-ceiling window on the opposite side, which gave a view of the garden and the forest beyond. For a moment, grave silence seemed to engulf him, but then Zuko could hear the soft chirping of the forest birds through the thin glass. He started to regret not taking Love Amongst the Dragons with him. He could have saved the book from Appa somehow. But there was nothing for him to do here, and now he seemed really and completely alone. Not that he wasn't used to it. In fact, he had only gotten used to having Uncle's presence around him almost constantly in the last few weeks. Iroh had rarely left him alone since the court hearing and since Zuko had moved in with him. That was unnecessary; Zuko wasn't a kid anymore. Hell, he'd been far more alone and on his own as a kid than he was now.
Zuko thought he saw movement to his left, but when he turned his head to see with his right eye, all was as deserted and quiet as before. Only the singing of the birds outside seemed to have gotten louder. Maybe Zuko's senses had just become more used to the silence.
And that was the point, wasn't it? Zuko was used to being alone. He knew it like that; it had always been like that. Why would he need anything else? He suddenly had to swallow at the thought. What if other people had parties with friends for their seventeenth birthdays? He didn't need friends, Zuko reminded himself. But his inner voice sounded bossy and condescending and way too much like Ozai. As if to drive away his gloomy thoughts and sadness, Zuko noticed that the birds had begun to chirp louder.
Suddenly, something small and colourful scurried from a box high above Zuko's head and disappeared back into another box before Zuko could even look up. What was that? The next moment, two magnificently shimmering canaries fluttered out of another box and landed purposefully on one of the balls dangling from the ceiling.
Birds!? Zuko stared incredulously at the two brightly coloured creatures, who were now trying to peck each other off the ball. How did one even keep birds company? Little by little, more and more colourfully feathered singers broke out of the nests, which Zuko now recognized the boxes as, and filled the room with squawking and chirping.
He didn't know if it was his own thought or one of his uncle's. And wasn't that a disturbing realization? -- but suddenly, Zuko had the idea that this ambience would be ideal for reading. He got up to get his book after all when he felt his right shoe loosen. He quickly bent down to tie his shoelaces again and froze.
There was a bird sitting on his foot. A bird sat on his foot with the pulled-out shoelace in its beak and looked up at him with shiny black eyes. The bird was almost as big as his foot but so light that he didn't feel it. He hadn't seen it land. And then, with a chilling feeling like cold water had been run down his back, Zuko realized why. A large part of the rusty-coloured brown-red feathers was missing. Instead, wrinkled, rosy skin could be seen. For a brief moment, Zuko wanted to call for help. Was this the quarantine room? Did the bird have a dangerous disease? Was that why the occupants of this room were not allowed outside? Zuko forced himself to remain calm and slowly settled back into the seat. No, Aang wouldn't put him with sick animals. It must have been an accident; maybe that's why the bird was at the shelter. The animal seemed alert and just as energetic as its peers -- the only difference being that it didn't fly.
Zuko watched the bird, waiting for it to realize it was perched on a human foot and flee in panic. Nothing of the sort happened. Instead, the bird seemed to be eyeing him equally. It cocked its head to the left, sometimes to the right, but his eyes remained fixed on Zuko's. It was like a bizarre version of a staring contest.
Zuko's breathing shallowed with excitement as he slowly ever so slowly lowered one arm and slid his hand down his leg toward the bird. Like in a dream, the bird did the exact opposite of the logical and expected escape; it jumped.
Pointed claws on dainty feet clutched Zuko's index finger. The bird's grip was surprisingly strong but not painful as it let Zuko lift it up until they were on eye level with each other. Zuko felt like in a trance. As if he had just come out of a long meditation session, deeply relaxed, without thoughts, calm.
Happy, he realized.
Suddenly, the door opened behind him, and the bird leapt to safety with a screech - onto Zuko's shoulder. Zuko didn't dare turn his head. He didn't move a muscle. The scraps of conversation that had been admitted in through the opening door fell silent.
"Wow." Aang's voice was so surprised that Zuko turned his head to see what the boy had seen. His cheek bumped against downy feathers. The bird pressed even closer.
Aang beamed at him.
"This little one must have really grown fond of you."
Zuko involuntarily wrinkled his nose, feeling like he needed to justify himself or clear up a misunderstanding -- which misunderstanding that would be, he couldn't tell himself.
"No, he just untied my shoelace, so I took him, and when the door opened, he was…." Zuko trailed off as Aang's grin only widened and motioned to the bird still perched on his shoulder.
"Nephew, it is not weakness to accept the love that is bestowed upon you with open arms and an open heart."
"Uncle!" Zuko hissed in warning, more in shame than anger, though.
But Aang didn't seem to register Iroh's words at all. He strode to one of the walls and unhooked one of the nest boxes after making sure it was empty. It wasn't until Aang opened and closed the door as if testing it and then walked towards him that Zuko understood what was going on.
"That, no, we're not here-- I can't, I can't-- We're only here to help." Zuko's mind raced. The fact that he couldn't just have a pet was fighting the happy feelings, the calm and the contentment the bird had given him in only a few minutes. Zuko steeled himself, then glanced at his uncle.
Iroh smiled at him and gave him a silent nod that clearly said go on, come on. Zuko suddenly felt like he'd stepped into a very obvious trap. But he still couldn't see a catch. Uncle would certainly never harm an animal. The wild ducks who, years ago, had chosen the sprawling gardens of his father's mansion as their new home were-- Zuko shook off the memory and was promptly punished for his evildoing with sharp claws when he almost shook the -- his! -- little bird off his shoulder.
He smiled.
"It's always nice when an animal finds a new home. Of course, we take care of them here as best as we can, but the animals only really get to form bonds and their own space and enough activity when they find a new family." Aang seemed to be talking more to himself than to them while he was collecting some forms from a shelf with his back to them.
A small transport box stood between them on the desk. The little bird had fallen silent as soon as Aang had closed the door. It would be better that way, he had said. That way, in the dark, the car ride home would stress him out the least.
"These forms still need to be filled out and signed, please." Aang dropped half a dozen slips of paper in front of Zuko.
"You're of age, right?"
"Seventeen," Zuko mumbled.
It felt beyond odd that a tattooed boy of apparently twelve - by now, Zuko wished he had an excuse to ask Aang for his age - guessed him to be of legal age.
"Then your uncle would also have to sign here, please." Aang showed them the appropriate places and then slapped another stack of paper, three times as high, next to the first.
"These are the care instructions and the most important things to know about Bourke's Parrots."
Uncle nodded and accepted the stack of papers while Zuko filled in his personal information.
"Are there any medical care instructions? For the injuries?" his uncle asked, and Zuko already felt like a terrible failure as a pet owner. He'd got so used to the bird's appearance in the short time that he hadn't thought to ask about it.
When Aang didn't answer right away, Zuko looked up and was faced with an expression he hadn't thought possible on the happy face. Aang seemed to fight for his composure in anger.
"Don't worry. It's been all healed for a long time." His voice sounded sad, monotonous. "There is nothing more to do. But nothing will change in this regard either."
Aang hesitated briefly as if unsure whether to continue.
"The previous owner mistreated this little guy, abused him, and when it was finally placed with us, it took several surgeries to heal the injuries. There won't be any more feathers growing there, and because of the missing feathers, he can't fly either. But apart from that, he is completely healthy. I guarantee that."
All Zuko could do was nod silently. The movement felt like pushing his head through cotton, and when Iroh responded, he heard him through water, not understanding a word.
Zuko was just grateful that Uncle didn't say anything more about it. Still stunned, he picked up the transport cage from the table, nodded to Aang in a way he hoped would be taken as friendly, and then walked towards the exit. He wanted to get in the car, home, out of here, away from this place full of beings whose families didn't want them anymore.
Uncle followed him at a distance in unusual silence.
Only a few steps separated Zuko from the saving car - saving from what? - when, suddenly, the door behind them jerked open. Zuko spun around. Aang lunged at him, the slip Zuko had just filled out flapping in his hand. But he didn't stop before him.
Instead, he threw his arms around Zuko's neck. Reality seemed distorted; had Zuko gone completely insane? What--
"Happy Birthday!"
Luckily, Aang pulled away from him as quickly as he charged him, but the wide grin he was now directing at Zuko didn't make him feel any less uncomfortable.
"Thanks?" Spirits, why was he so awkward?
"Oh, the baby cats are in dire need of feeding! See you soon, Zuko!" With those incoherent, cryptic words, Aang disappeared back into the shelter. Zuko shook himself, but the sense of surreal lingered, even when he was finally in the car. See you soon? Did Aang think he would bring the bird back? Zuko tried not to get angry about it.
He hurriedly got his book out of the glove compartment to distract himself from the impending gloomy thoughts. A narrow strip of paper came out with it and fell to the ground. Zuko was about to shove it back when the Air Temple Sanctuary Animal Shelter's logo caught his eye. It was a flyer. But it wasn't just any flyer, Zuko realized with a sinking feeling. It was the flyer that he had gotten from the man at the Christmas market on his date with Jin six months ago.
Zuko caught his breath. He deliberately didn't look at Uncle as he asked, "There was nothing to help, was there?"
"No."
Uncle's voice sounded casual, far too casual.
"Does your friend even work at the shelter?"
"But yes, Zuko. I've just learned from speaking with Aang that he not only knows but has mastered the ancient technique of playing Pai Sho and has agreed to come and play a few games at the tea shop next weekend. If that doesn't make him a friend, then I don't know what does."
Zuko groaned in disbelief, but his uncle only gave a short laugh and then focused on the road again.
"Uncle?"
"Yes, Zuko?"
"Thank you."
I love you; he didn't say, he couldn't say. Instead, he squeezed his uncle's shoulder with one hand and wouldn't let go for a long time while his other hand scratched silky feathers and warm skin. The chirping songs of life filled the car.