Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Zuko was walking through the gardens to the turtleduck pond. The coronation had been two weeks ago and he was savoring the 15 minutes of no responsibilities that had appeared on his schedule. He was fairly certain it was a mistake, but as he hadn’t been alone for more than 5 minutes since the coronation and had been going quietly insane, he was certainly not going to be the one to bring it up.

His friends meant well, his advisors no doubt meant less well, but he needed time to be himself. To reckon with the fact that he was back in this palace which was the place of his deepest hurts, but Ozai wasn’t here to make them worse. That he was about to spend the rest of his life running a nation that had caused so much pain and suffering and trauma. By others and by himself, to others and to himself. He had to do it from the very chair that caused him to shudder with the memory of his terrified hopeless defiance on the day of the eclipse.

In short, he wanted some space and spirits please privacy to have a nice little breakdown in peace before going back to work. Because he would do this, he would not allow this palace to break him more than it already had. He was going to thrive in spite of it.

So, turtleducks it is. With a tired smile on his face, he steps off the path toward the bench by the pond……and comes to an abrupt stop.

He doesn’t see the turtleducks. He sees at least 10 firebenders, two of whom look suspiciously like advisors from his meeting this morning. They are in an attack formation, eyes on the pond entrance. He barely has a second to blink before flames are rushing toward him and muscle memory very helpfully takes over.

His body moves without him telling it: jumping in the air and slicing out with his own flames, white-hot rainbow flames shooting from his feet and hands as he soars in the air to a better position.

“Long live Phoenix King Ozai, down with the traitor, down with the weakling,” sounds the cold voice of the man in the center. Zuko’s brain whispers "General Baling'' as he lands further away from the assembled assassins. Unfortunately for Zuko, this seems to motivate everyone into further action. Soon, fire is whirling around the garden.

“The turtleducks!” his brain screams as he deflects flames, taking any opportunity to cut down an attacker. But he didn’t sleep last night, has been working since the first tinge of the sun seeped into the night sky. And he was not prepared, and 10 seasoned fighters on guard is more than he has taken on ever.

“Stupid, of course there would be more, stupid to think that there would only be one attempt. Uncle! Where is Uncle!” Now that he is fighting, of course people wouldn’t like what he is doing. Of course people would rather there be Ozai. Enough people supported the Agni Kai, who laughed…his brain shies away from that thought, but he knows this won’t be the last time. There will be more, he will need to be more vigilant. But first, he needs to survive this.

He shoots his hottest flame against the General and smirks when he has to hide behind a gazebo pillar to avoid it. The terrified looking man beside him is not so lucky and falls where he stands. There are 6 men left standing now and they are all holding their flames, circling the pond slowly, waiting for someone to break and restart the fight again.

“YOU DARE,” everyone startles, eyes flying to the far end of the garden where a small boy in a yellow robe is floating in the air, tattoos and eyes lit up bright blue, wind whipping in a vicious circle around him.

“YOU DARED TOUCH MY GRANDSON. YOU WILL NOT LIVE TO SEE THE CONSEQUENCES.” The cold chilling voice reverberates in the garden space, though the Avatar is not shouting. He is merely stating cold, immovable fact.

Anyone able to tear their faces away from the furious Avatar would notice the unsheathed sword, the water whip, and the clenched fists of a blind girl from the earth kingdom. The stunned silent stillness of the fire nation attackers is broken by a furious yell from Sokka who charges forward without a thought.

“Not my friend you don’t, and not because of him,” he spits.

Men are flung in the air by an angry Avatar, desperately trying to grab at the trees to avoid being swept up in the air. None who try are successful. Blinking as they are encased in ice where they stand by Katara, who whirls her way through the garden, teeth bared in a snarl. The few not immediately eliminated by wind, ice, or sword find themselves buried neck deep in the ground with pebbles pelting their faces.

In mere minutes, every fire nation attacker is incapacitated, many unconscious and most absolutely terrified about being in the same space as the Avatar for another second. Palace guards led by Suki and Ty Lee dragging them away in chains.

When the last threat is safely away, Aang floats back to earth and flies to Zuko, crashing them down to the ground. He is clinging like a spider monkey to Zuko, who for once is not protesting even a little. Hugging him back with a shaking desperation that is obvious to everyone. The rest of the gaang follows, surrounding Zuko with tight hugs, worried touches, and caring.

“Are you okay Zuko?” Katara asks, her hands already covered with healing water, running it all over him.

“I’m fine. Really. I was handling it, you didn’t need to come.” Zuko tries not to flinch at the sudden glares he is getting. But he does stop hugging Aang, like he is embarrassed by how much he had been clinging to him just a second prior. He tries to straighten his shoulders and sit up properly.

“Didn’t need to come??? Like I was going to let the Loser Lord’s minions hurt my heat pack??” Toph scoffs loudly, giving him a punch to the leg which happens to be the closest part of Zuko to her. “But seriously, Sparky, if they try to hurt you, they are messing with all of us. We take that seriously around here.”

“Toph is right, Zuko. And we take it even more seriously because you are our friend and we love you and no one gets to hurt you again, especially not here of all places. Nobody gets to hurt you here ever again.” Sokka’s voice is firm even as he pushes Aang out of the way so he can curl himself around Zuko’s other side. After a long second, Zuko’s arms come back up and circle around the two boys, holding tightly when they both snuggle in closer.

Katara sits down, moving Zuko’s head back so he is lying down and resting in her lap, running her fingers through his hair. Her voice is rough with anger, cold with determination and overwhelming gentle despite it all.

“Especially not here, Zuko.”

Zuko squeezes his eyes shut, head falling to hide in Sokka’s neck, trying not to let anyone see him crying even as he feels his shoulders shake.

“Gr..grandson..?” he whispers shakily, a thread of deep longing in his voice.

“Grandson” says Aang, his voice very firm and deeper than it should be. “You and I both know you are Roku’s grandson. I am Roku and therefore you are mine. My family. And no one is touching my family ever again.”

They sit in silence for a little bit, shooting poisonous glares and little whips of water and shaking the ground at anyone who even looks toward the garden to call Zuko back. No one knows how long they sit there, Zuko crying silently in their arms before his tears turn into sniffles.

“Wh..what happened to all life is sacred Aang?” he jokes shakily as he tries to find emotional balance again.

“Life, shmife!” Sokka exclaims loudly, “I wouldn't say those honorless pathetic cowards have enough life between them to make a sea sponge! Half a sea sponge!”

Aang sighs and Zuko snickers at the longsuffering sound from the Avatar currently wrapped around him like Momo.

“What do you want me to say, Sokka, I got caught up in the moment. Someone was threatening my grandson, I feel I get a pass here.” Aang's sarcastic voice is enough to break the tension, and everyone laughs. Toph has maneuvered herself to sit next to Zuko and punches Aang on the shoulder.

“Good one Twinkle-toes, maybe there is hope for you yet.”

“I am going to miss this when you leave,” Zuko whispers to himself. Everyone freezes as that, turning as one to stare at Zuko is horrified confusion.

“Leave, what do you mean leave?”

“Is someone leaving??!”

“Zuko, what are you talking about? What do you mean by ‘when we leave’?” Katara asks gently, tugging on Zuko’s hair to make him look at her.

“Just….you know, the war is over. You don’t have to be here anymore, not like I do. A..and this isn’t your home, not..not your job. This is my responsibility. You can go home, but this is my home.” A small shrug, not looking at any of them, “so yeah….I’ll um, I’ll just miss you when you do that. When..when you leave.”

A few moments of silence pass as the group processes that. Then Sokka jumps up, trips over Toph and lands on his face right where he had just been. He stands up again, carefully this time, and holds out a demanding hand to Zuko.

“Gaang, I don't think it can wait any longer. It shouldn’t have waited this long, if he has been thinking like this. Which I think we all know now that he has.”

There are nods of solemn agreement, Katara and Aang stand up easily. Toph uses the earth to bend Zuko up to standing before joining them and taking his hand. Aang, Katara, and Sokka start walking back into the palace. Zuko goes to follow them, but is quickly stopped by Toph staying still and tugging his hand back.

“Zuko, before we go…” she takes a deep breath, “I don’t have a home to go to. I have people who birthed me, who clothed and fed me, who lived in a house with me and never bothered to know me or to care about who I am. Just who they thought I ought to be. You are my home, all of you, and there isn’t anything you could do that would make me want to make my home somewhere that wasn’t with you, ok? And you better say ok, because I will not say this to you again.”

Zuko smiles shakily, glad she can’t see the tears forming in his eyes as he looks down at her. He squeezes her hand. “Okay Toph, siblings gotta stick together, right?”

She nods in agreement before glaring at everyone who had noticed their delay and come back with worried expressions. “And anyways! Who would get to tear down all the statues of the Loser Lord if I wasn't here! So it's really all for me, anyway!” She cracks her knuckles with a wide grin.

The group groans and laughs, knowing she always covers the truth of her feelings with loud proclamations. Sokka lays an arm around Zuko’s shoulders and starts walking back to the palace.

“Well then, with that settled, Zuko, we have something to show you.”

They lead him back to the palace, but they don’t go to their rooms or his. Not to the meeting rooms or the courtyard or the kitchen. They lead him to a set of apartments in the west wing of the house, somewhere Zuko does not remember ever spending time in. He gets more confused the farther they go, the walls and decorations reminding him of something but he can’t remember what.

Suki runs up to join the group, tackling Zuko in a hug with a smug “ha, I made it in time,” and joins the procession to Zuko-doesn’t-know-where. Finally they stop and open a set of doors and wave him in first.

Stepping in, he almost starts crying again but he has cried enough today so he is determined to hold them back this time.

He is in a living room area which has been decorated in the styles of the water, earth, air, and fire kingdoms. A harmony and peace to the easy blending of styles that has never been present anywhere he has ever been before. There are 6 rooms branching off of it, the doors on most are already open and showing the styles of their inhabitants. Weapons on the wall in what is clearly Sokka’s room, a calming blue and gray on the walls. Suki, with her shades of green and her fans. Toph with her blackout curtains, Katara with a mural of waves on the wall and a pile of scrolls on the dresser. Aang with a hammock high up by the ceiling and a mountain temple painted on the walls.

“How..how did you do this?” he asks, eyes wide, turning around to look at their proud but nervous faces. Nobody has ever given him a gift since his mother di…since his mother left. Unless you count second chances and forgiveness, which he definitely does but that isn’t the point right now.

“Suki and Sokka thought of it, on the warship coming back from the battle. We knew even before that we were going to stay here, if we won. And we knew this place does not have good memories for you. So we wanted to make new ones, better ones. With all of us,” Katara said. “We aren’t ready to leave, and probably won’t for a while, Zuko. You will have to kick us out, because we will stay here for as long as you want us here.”

“There is a room for you, it can be whatever you want it to be. Your bedroom, an escape, your office. Somewhere that is just yours and only yours. Zuko’s. Not the Firelord’s, just Zukos. If you want it to be,” Suki’s voice startled Zuko, spinning him back around.

Suki stood at the front of the group, her eyes full of guilt. “I am sorry I wasn’t there in time, Zuko. You shouldn’t have been there alone today.”

He brushes that aside, coming forward and hugging her. “Turns out I had it handled and even then they all joined in. It wasn’t your fault, Suki.”

She shakes her head. “You needed time to yourself and you haven’t been given that. And my job,” she glares at him, “is to help you. So we are going to work out a system that doesn’t involve you getting assassinated because you need time alone. But that is for tomorrow,” she says with a definitive tone that Zuko knows better than to argue with.

“So, Sparky? What do you say?” It is Toph’s small unsure voice that reminds Zuko he hasn’t said anything about the room or the plan yet.

He turns back to look at he rooms, walking up to each open door and taking a long look in each. Seeing all the little details that mean they are already making this space theirs, that they are setting some of themselves down in this space, that they aren’t leaving. With a deep breath, he opens the only closed door, expecting the room to empty and waiting for him to decorate it. But he is wrong.

Handprints in all colors cover the walls. A Blue Spirit mask rests in a frame atop a desk covered in play scrolls. His gleaming dual broadswords are on display. Statues of Appa, Momo, a turtleduck, an otter penguin. Candles for meditation and the window faces full east, so he will always feel the sun. By the window, a full tea set. Uncle must have known about this.

He knows he has been quiet too long when he hears nervous shuffling behind him, but he needs another moment to carefully tuck this memory of how much his friends..his family…love him deep in his heart for safekeeping before he can turn around.

“Thank you. It is perfect. You didn't need to stay or do this, I can take care of myself,” he ignores Sokka and Katara’s disbelieving snorts, “but this…makes me very happy. I want this room to be my bedroom, I think. And…” he turns to Katara, “if it was you who painted the waves on your walls, could you paint dragons on mine?”

The beaming smiles on the entire group could have blinded Zuko except his vision was already blurry from all the tears was trying to hold back. Aang darts forward and pulls Zuko into what will be his room, chattering a mile a minute about what he thinks are the best design choices and how hard it had been to pick just four animals to make sculptures of and does Zuko think ther is room for a whole zoo?

Sokka gives him a hard pat on the back and leans against the doorway just watching. Toph joins Aang, loudly demanding a badger mole be added to the collection immediately. Katara and Suki just watch with Sokka, rolling their eyes at the antics.

The afternoon passes like this, pulling more and more life into Zuko’s new room. He makes tea for everyone, sitting by the window with a quiet smile on his face, looking around him at the love he didn’t think he could be good enough to deserve. He is happy, he realizes, and the thought doesn’t fill him with dread at what could happen, not this time.

Everyone is happy that afternoon. They feel peace, no pressure from their responsibilities to the world or to the future. Because right now? The only thing that is important is making sure that everyone knows that they are home, they are with family, they will not be alone ever again.

No one touches one of theirs and walks away without consequences.

Chapter Text

Iroh left the council room with a mostly invisible smirk, quite pleased with how today’s meeting had gone. He looked about for his nephew safe, he is safe and chuckled deep in his chest at the sight before him. Toph, riding on Zuko’s shoulders, charging at blindfolded Sokka who was sitting on Suki in a game of chicken.

“You think you can defeat me!!!! HA! I AM THE GREATEST EARTHBENDER IN THE WORLD, NO ONE CAN DEFEAT ME!” Toph shouted as she kicked Zuko to go faster. He ran faster, with a clearly amused look on his face as he and Suki locked eyes.

“BRING IT ON, I CAN TAKE YOU!” screamed back Sokka as he swung his pillow in wide arcs, somehow entirely missing Toph as they shot past each other.

Iroh shook his head in amusement and decided to take advantage of this beautiful day and have tea in the garden. He walked through the statue garden, lost in deep contemplation as to what tea best suited today when something caught his eye. Purple. Purple in a place purple is not normally.

Bewildered, he looks up at the scarred and pockmarked face that used to be Ozai’s statue in the sculpture garden. He laughs so hard, he collapses and the guards rush over to make sure nothing is wrong. But when they arrive, Iroh just points a shaking finger at the statue and convulses in laughter again.

In bright purple “Worst beard! Dumber than dust!” and large splashes of paint cover most of the statue. Iroh laughed harder at the faces of the guards, who all looked like they were trying to be very serious so as to not laugh themselves. The noise had drawn the attention of Suki, Sokka, Zuko, and Toph who hurried over to see what was going on.

Standing up, he looked at them gravely, lips twitching at their incredibly angelicly innocent faces.

“Now, do any of you know how this could have occurred?” he asked.

“Based on what I see, it looks just like it has every time I have seen it!” Toph says with a helpful voice.

“Mmm, I see. Thank you, Toph.”

“You are welcome, Uncle!”

“My main concern, you see, is that such large quantities of paint are available and unsupervised. Someone attempted to continue such art without help? They could fall and be seriously hurt. I feel it is our duty to make sure such wonderful artists are supported in their work. With royal patronage and a live demonstration perhaps. Otherwise, who knows what visitors would think of us!” His eyes twinkled at the group who grinned back at him.

“While we couldn’t possibly speculate on who, Uncle, I am sure we would be able to pass a message along to the distinguished artist!” Suki sounded exactly like a gallery owner as she responded to Iroh and then slowly turning and walking back to the palace, Toph snickering as she followed close behind.

Two weeks later, the palace servants sat in comfortable chairs on the lawn, being served drinks and delicious snacks by the Gaang as a mysterious boy that no one quite recognized,wearing all black with a Blue Spirit mask, went absolutely wild with 4 cans of paint. By the end of the exhibition, the audience was also wearing a great deal of paint, but no one could complain about that. In fact, many servants woke up the next morning with no voice because of how much they had cheered at the demonstration the night before.

The Painting of the Sculptures became an annual tradition, with paint and brushes available for all the attendee participation in the following years. Eventually, as time passed, it became less about defacing Ozai’s statue and more about making life more colorful. People wore as many colors as possible, food was dyed colors it wouldn’t normally be. And the collection of winning creations were housed in its own palace gallery hall until they outgrew the space and were donated as the founding exhibit to the new City Art Museum.

To this day, you can see the colorful handprints covering Ozai’s face with a disclaimer that the original artist is still unknown.