Chapter Text
They say it’s bad luck to be born without strong fire. It's also bad luck to cross paths with a dark spirit, but Zuko wasn’t superstitious, and decided, altogether, that neither of them were so bad.
Besides, now he had a friend.
An irritating, annoying friend who was constantly telling him what to do.
Do this, do that. Eat your vegetables, humans need a lot of nutrition. Don’t throw bread at the turtle-ducks, it doesn’t matter what your sister does. You have to sleep, child, you’re practically vibrating and it’s making me anxious.
Yes, I’ll sing you a lullaby.
Still, it was comforting. It had been a month since Mother left, disappearing without a trace, and having someone else there to tell him not to jump into the fountain was…comforting.
Oh, and Uncle. You couldn’t forget Uncle.
He’d been much quieter since he returned from the war, after Lu Ten…died. But he was still Uncle Iroh, and he still loved tea and jokes and going for long walks. He liked to tell Zuko things too, but in weird cryptic ways and tea metaphors. And sometimes he was just talking about tea. It was hard to tell.
In myths and legends, spirits often spoke to humans in strange riddles and cryptic ways, and the humans were often straightforward and candid.
The irony was not lost on Zuko.
You’re picking at your food, the spirit remarked. Is it poisoned?
Zuko wrinkled his nose. No, it’s not poisoned.
It had been a sleepless night, no matter how much Vaatu attempted to help him sleep or sang until he ran out of words. Azula had demonstrated her firebending to Father yesterday, her flames burning bright and hot. Ozai had given Azula a word of praise before turning on Zuko. “You’ve been blessed by Agni, and you still cannot firebend with any skill whatsoever. How disappointing.”
Rain poured outside, turning the sky dark gray and muting even the bright reds of the Fire Nation palace.
Zuko hated it when Father brought up his blessing from “Agni”, and he could tell Vaatu did too. What would the Fire Sages, Father himself, do to him if they found out it wasn’t Agni who had blessed him? Or worse, that the dark spirit that had helped him instead was still with him?
Exorcism, Vaatu said grimly. Not that he ever wasn’t. By fire.
Zuko had talked about Vaatu only once, when he was five. It was a pure stroke of luck, the convincing that this voice was his ‘imaginary friend’, and the fact that Vaatu was so ancient he was completely forgotten in human history that saved Zuko.
Zuko kept picking at his komodo-chicken. He wasn’t hungry. Maybe after he escaped from the table he could go down to the catacombs again and find something to read.
Zuko…Vaatu’s would-be lecture about nutrition for humans was cut off as the door to the room opened. Zuko silently hoped it wasn’t Father, arriving to tell him just how disappointing he was, but it was Uncle, carrying two steaming cups of tea.
“Uncle!” He immediately slid out of his chair, ignoring the irritated grumbling in his head.
Iroh smiled, putting down the cups and catching his nephew in his arms. “Hello, Zuko.”
“How did the meeting go?”
Uncle pulled out a chair for himself. “It was nothing important.”
Zuko plopped back into a chair, picking up the cup that uncle had brought for him. “What about the colonies in the Earth Kingdom?” It was ginseng tea, his uncle’s favorite. “Are they cooperating?”
There was a brief pause.
“Zuko, I heard about what happened yesterday,” Uncle said instead.
Zuko immediately tensed.
“It’s alright that you’re learning at your own pace.”
“Father doesn’t seem to think so.” It was as if a switch had flipped inside Zuko. He was suddenly snappy and short and defensive.
“Yes, my brother is a slight bit…impatient,” Uncle responded. “But it’s good to remember nothing can speed up the formation of a great mountain.”
Great. A proverb. “But I’m not a mountain, I’m a firebender! I’m the fire prince!”
Iroh stood up, setting down his empty cup. “Why don’t we go for a walk?”
It may help you to go outside, Vaatu urged.
Zuko huffed. Today, his two parental figures were being irritating instead of comforting. “Fine.”
___
It was wet outside. Rain dripped off the roof and walls and coated the sparse, harshly-controlled plants in the courtyard. The pond, which was usually smooth and glassy, was disturbed by the ripples of raindrops hitting the surface, and the turtle ducks had gone to hide among the small reeds.
“Zuko,” Uncle said, turning to face his nephew. “What do plants need to grow?”
This was going to be a trick question, a lesson in disguise. And his uncle was changing the subject. Zuko resigned himself to that fact. “Proper soil, water, sunlight, air…”
“And if they can’t get one of those, they wilt and die. And every plant needs a different amount of those things.”
“But I’m not a plant,” Zuko insisted.
“No, you’re not, but you also need certain things to live and thrive, Zuko. These things aren’t always as tangible, like comfort and love and support.”
Zuko frowned. But he had those things. From Uncle and Vaatu. Was Uncle saying he needed more of that? Or was this a way of saying that Zuko needed to talk to people more and not hole up in the catacombs and read?
“You can’t make me play with Azula,” he pouted. No matter whether or not he needed support from other people, he did not want to engage in his sister's strange games.
Uncle laughed. His joy was contagious and made Zuko fight the urge to smile as well.
But just as quickly, Zuko’s half-smile leeched off his face and he went silent for a few moments, lost in thought. “...Why does Father keep bringing up Agni’s blessing? Was I really blessed by Agni?” He wasn’t. He knew he wasn’t. But maybe if he managed to convince them he was a firebender all on his own his father would stop having such high expectations. He appreciated that Uncle was trying to make him feel better, but he needed to know why it was so important to Ozai.
Uncle stopped smiling too, a frown settling on his face. “Like I said earlier, my brother is…impatient. And he likes things to go his way. Most of all, he wants the Fire Nation to win this war, and he thinks that Agni’s presence is a premonition that it will happen. Or that he’s leading a path that the spirits willed.”
“Is he doing the right thing?”
“Right and wrong are not so clear all the time. But this war…and the way he’s been treating you and Azula…I think it’s not right.”
Anyone else saying that would have resulted in an Agni Kai, or banishment for treason. Zuko knew that Uncle was taking a risk, saying even that. Still, being the great Dragon of the West came with its privileges.
When Zuko was little, he was taught all about how great the Fire Nation was and how the war was just its way of sharing its prosperity with the rest of the world. How if it won, it could remake a great world where all of the Four Nations were united together and there was peace for everyone.
When Zuko was little, he wholeheartedly believed it.
Vaatu had been grumbly and angry about it his whole life, but Vaatu was grumbly and angry about everything.
But Uncle? The man who believed in giving everyone a second chance, who spoke in metaphors, who nearly conquered all of Ba Sing Se, outright saying that Zuko’s father was wrong?
Now, he wasn’t so sure.
“As for you being blessed by Agni…” Uncle hummed in thought. “Well, all of the signs point to a spirit blessing, and because it gave you your fire, it’s reasonable to assume Agni was the spirit behind it. Sometimes I do wonder…”
He trailed off, and Zuko felt Vaatu tense. They were wondering the same thing. Can he tell, can he sense it’s not Agni?
Zuko shifted the subject quickly. “Maybe I could go to a meeting soon. Maybe it would help me learn more about the Fire Nation, and whether or not what we're doing is right."
His uncle’s expression shifted, just slightly, but Zuko couldn’t tell what it was. “Perhaps. They’re very dull, anyway, and full of old war generals going on and on about small things. I think you would become bored very quickly.”
“I still want to go!” Zuko insisted. “I want to know what’s going on with the war and the Fire Nation!”
Child. Vaatu’s voice was firm; Zuko knew he wouldn’t want him to attend. This is a dangerous idea. You have a habit of speaking out at inopportune times and it could get you into danger here. Danger that I can’t get you out of.
You speak out against things all the time!
I teach you not to believe what you are taught unconditionally. I am being very tactful and very aware of the consequences it would have.
Uncle relented in the silence of the mental conversation. “There’s a war meeting taking place tomorrow at noon. You can attend, but you must stay with me, and remain silent, alright?”
Zuko grinned, smug that he’d overpowered Vaatu's protests. “Of course.”
He didn’t see the look of worried dread that crossed his uncle’s face.