Archive of Our Own

Fire starred in most of Zuko's dreams, bright orange tongues of flame that he wanted closer as much as he wanted to extinguish them. Even if he couldn't see it, fire was there. The smell of it. The hot push-and-pull breeze it generated. The feeling of his chi awakening to the presence of a spark. He'd wake with the taste of soot in his mouth, and his chest would feel tight until he knew if it was real or not. More often than not, it was real. Just the stuffy ship air. More familiar to him now than any other kind. Terrifying, for whatever reason, when he wasn't fully awake. 

He wasn't asleep now. The ringing in his ears and groggy thickness of his thoughts - he knew it well. It meant something had knocked him out. The wave of pain that hit a second later told him more. He was injured, the feeling concentrated in his right thigh. Someone was carrying him, jostling that leg as they moved. Each bump made it harder to grasp consciousness, and soon his curiosity lost out. The world faded again. 

When Zuko came to next, he noticed immediately that he wasn't moving anymore. The air was fresh. There was something rough underneath him. His leg was quiet for the moment. His mouth was gummy. He'd had the Avatar in his custody. In his arms. He'd sat on his shoulders. He'd walked them both backwards out of Pohuai. It must've gone wrong quickly. 

The moment that thought occurred to him, Zuko realized he was still in danger. He scrambled to get his bearings, wrenched his eyes open to find the Avatar sitting a few feet away. Not quite close enough to touch. He was looking at Zuko with something disgustingly soft in his face. A child, who told a child's story about his friend in the Fire Nation and asked if Zuko could've been his friend. 

Of course not. No matter when Zuko was born, he would still be the Crown Prince of the Fire Nation and subject to all the responsibilities that came with that title. It was a stupid question, undeserving of an answer, so Zuko didn't bother with one. He drew on all the strength he had and channeled it into one desperate fireball, and stayed conscious just long enough to see the Avatar deflect the blast. 

Sound was the first thing to come back, indistinct and muffled. All he could focus on was how badly his head hurt for the moment. His ears were ringing again, or maybe they'd never stopped. 

First, he recognized Avatar's voice. He was saying something tense and upset, and whoever he was talking to didn't sound happy either. Zuko kept his eyes shut and tried to clear his head with a few measured deep breaths the way Uncle taught him. 

The words he started to understand weren't promising. "And yet you still didn't have to bring the guy who's trying to capture you right back to all of us." Male voice. Probably the Water Tribe peasant. 

"Can we talk about this after I get some sleep? Getting captured and tortured was exhausting. Come on, Momo." A stiff wind came out of nowhere and died fast. Had to be airbending. There was a kind of chirp sound, another rustle, and then silence. 

“You didn’t have to snap at him like that.” A new voice. Female. Probably the peasant sister. 

“Don’t tell me you’re on his side.” 

“There are no sides! It’s Team Avatar.”

“There are definitely sides.” 

Zuko meant to shift and see if he had any restraints on his arms or legs. Instead, the moment he attempted to tense his leg he couldn’t help a sharp inhale from the blinding lance of pain. Too late, but he held still after and hoped he looked asleep. 

Both voices were quiet for a long pause. Then, the boy whispered, “Is he waking up?” 

“I don’t know. But we should play it safe.” 

Before Zuko could process the implications of that, he felt something cool slipping around his hands. It almost tickled. It felt like the thing was holding his hand. Then it hardened, and he found his hands encased in ice that didn’t have the decency to melt where it touched him even a little. The same sensation gathered around his feet, less intense with the leather of his boots between the ice and his skin, but still freezing. 

“Cool move,” the boy said. “Learn it from Haru?” 

“You’re so immature.” 

“That’s not a no.” 

The childish bickering stopped at that, besides some inarticulate grumbling he couldn’t make out. Birdcall filled the air instead, and a long, even, in-and-out huff. The air was soft and smelled like greenery. They couldn’t be anywhere near Pohuai.

Part of Zuko thought he should preserve the illusion and see if anyone would let slip some key information, but the need to know where he was won out. He opened his eyes a crack, and had a glance around. They were in some kind of ruin, the sky grey and heavy with clouds. No recognizable mountains in sight. Nothing through the clouds, and maybe nothing around. They could be anywhere. It was morning. He’d been unconscious for anywhere from two to four hours, and the Avatar could fly. 

“Look who’s awake. Enjoy your nap, Prince Loser?” the boy asked. He was lying on a heap of something, covered in garbage, looking way too ill to sound so cocky. 

The girl was next to him on another pile, with random stuff all around her too. She didn’t have as much to say. She was just looking at Zuko with her strange blue eyes, clearly thinking. 

Obviously, Zuko did not dignify the insult with an answer. He did fully open his eyes, though, and give up the pretense. Worth it, for being able to examine his surroundings. 

He started with the facts. His hands and feet had been frozen together in thick chunks of ice in front of him. He was seated against a pillar, a thick blanket underneath him. There was a hole in the leg of his pants, torn bigger so someone could take the arrow out - he remembered the arrow now, the razor-sharp sting through his leg as it entered. Someone had taken it out and wrapped a torn-off piece of his pant leg around it to staunch the bleeding. The Avatar, probably. He’d seen a prime hostage opportunity and taken it. That was wise. Father would be impressed.

After the facts came the conclusions. Those were harder to draw. He’d never been successful at determining the Avatar’s plans before. The only reason Zuko had been able to find him was because he’d literally been chained still. Still, he gave it a shot. 

They’d taken him prisoner and were keeping an eye on him. If he hadn’t been taken, though, he would almost certainly be worse off right now. Captured by Zhao. Maybe killed, if they thought he’d be trouble. Not particularly valuable as a hostage to either side. But the Avatar seemed less likely to know that, so Zuko’s situation was not as bad as it could’ve been. 

“Hey,” the girl said sharply, and Zuko looked over to find her eyes still fixed on him. “Can you speak?” 

“Of course I can. I’m choosing not to,” Zuko snapped. 

“Right. Why am I asking the guy who was unconscious all morning if his brain’s working right.” She sat up slowly. Maybe she was sick. That would make her easier to overpower. 

“Don’t talk to the prisoner,” the boy told her in a fake whisper. 

“Sokka,” she sighed. 

“Don’t use our names!” 

“He knows our names.” 

Zuko wasn’t totally sure he did, but he narrowed his eyes to glare between the two of them. “And you know mine. Release me, or my father will burn your little village to the ground.”  

“Sure, buddy. We’ll get right on that.” The boy yawned and turned away from people to apparently try to sleep. He didn’t look that great either. Seemed like they’d both been unwell. That had to be why the Avatar had been caught now, by a lowlife like Zhao.

Actually, Zuko found himself wishing the Avatar was here. Even if he was just a child, he definitely wanted Zuko to stay alive. These Water Tribe siblings could do whatever they wanted right now. He was lucky all they seemed to want was quiet. 

The ice around Zuko’s hands was still solid, its temperature burning. Zuko had heard stories of the Boiling Rock, the prison no one could get out of, and what they did to firebenders. It sounded a lot like this. The ice was draining him, the spark of heat in him all being fed into keeping his fingers warm. He had to use a few of Uncle’s favorite breathing techniques to keep himself awake. 

Words bounced to him from across the stone floor. “Stop trying to melt my ice.” The girl - and Zuko had to admit he did not know her name, just the general impression of several syllables - was glaring at him. 

“I’ll stop melting it when I’m not about to get frostbite,” Zuko hissed back. The stress on that last word made him lightheaded to project. He shut his eyes to focus and steady himself. Strange that he could feel seasick now, when this was the longest he’d been on solid land in years. 

The girl pushed herself to her feet and crossed the space towards him. Zuko couldn’t help but straighten up where he sat as much as he could. She was moving with purpose, and he didn’t have anything free to bend with besides his mouth. If he had to, his only option would be that. To burn her face, probably. Or a hand. He wanted to be ready to do either, but the same awful weakness reared its head inside him as it always did. He probably couldn’t do either of those things, and if anyone ever knew he would be even more of an embarrassment. 

From a few paces away, the girl melted the ice on his hands and watched while he flexed his hands to make sure they worked. The last thing he needed was an injury. They looked alright. It had only been around an hour. 

“I don’t see frostbite,” she said with folded arms. 

“Because I know what I’m doing. We were dodging icebergs for a year before any of this.” While his hands were free, Zuko took the opportunity to feel at his own face and head. There was a bump near his right eyebrow, the skin tender and swollen. That explained why his headache wouldn’t go away. Then he prodded at the area around his thigh wound, trying to figure out how bad it was. 

The girl stayed back. “The arrow didn’t hit anything important.” 

“Just my leg,” Zuko mumbled. But as far as he could tell, she was right. It hurt, and was by no means scabbed over but not gushing blood either. His limited field medicine knowledge was not enough to handle this. And what he knew from personal experience didn't make him feel any better. The palace doctor had been adamant that he needed to keep his eye clean and dry, to change the bandages regularly, to regularly wash it with boiled water. It seemed unlikely that the Avatar and his friends would allow a prisoner to do all that. Though, they also probably didn't want their prisoner to die and waste all their time. Maybe they meant to keep him weak. He couldn't run like this. 

The girl was still standing there, watching him. She cleared her throat, and her next words were deliberately pleasant. “Before we leave, we should clean the wound.”

Before they leave. Was he going with them? Zuko nodded stiffly, and thought about what Father would want him to do. The answer came to him like a horrible vision: incapacitate her and her brother and steal the bison, wherever it was, to leave. But he'd more likely get eaten by the blasted thing if he could even find it. Assuming he could even defeat the girl. Her bending only seemed to be getting more powerful. 

As if she could hear him and wanted to prove him right, she made a few purposeful, fluid movements and a band of ice hardened around Zuko’s chest. He couldn’t move from the pillar behind him. Then, she focused harder and a tendril of water wove its way into the room and curled into a metal pot on the ground. She started a fire with something she pulled from a pouch on her waist, and managed to get it big enough that Zuko could feel it. He took a deep breath, and little fire rose higher on his inhale. She didn’t notice. 

It would be so easy to fan the flames, to flare them up right in her face and break the ice around his chest with his breath of fire. Her brother was asleep. No one could stop him. But then what? He wouldn’t make it far. Zuko let his breath out through his nose, and the fire was small again. 

The girl - and he really needed to remember her name - began cutting up scraps of some blanket and dropping strips into the boiling water. Still, Zuko didn’t understand what she was doing until she approached him and took out a short curved knife. “I’m going to cut off the bandage,” she told him. 

What was he supposed to say, no? Did she expect him to struggle? Zuko pressed his lips together and held perfectly still while she knelt next to him. He’d offer no reason for her to startle holding that knife. 

Carefully, she slit the bandage open. The blade must’ve been sharp, because the crusty fabric parted easily. It was dried over the puncture. She had to use some of the boiling water to soften it. Zuko had never seen anything like the bending she did, carefully separating clean water from dirty and cleaning his flesh quickly. It was masterful. And it stung. His leg started bleeding again. 

The girl bit her lip and moved faster. She pulled the wet strips of fabric out of the pot and bent all the water out of them, so they were now dry and clean. She folded a few into a pad that went over the puncture wound, and tied the rest around his thigh tightly. She had to lean into his space to do that, and Zuko gritted his teeth and shut his eyes. Finally, she secured the whole bandage with a leather cord, tied even tighter. 

“That’s better,” she said at the end. 

It was, but Zuko couldn’t bear to thank his captor. So he said nothing. He fixed his eyes on the floor and waited until she walked away to let his breath out. His leg did feel much better. She knew what she was doing. 

Before they all set out for the day, they let his legs free and Sokka took Zuko down to relieve himself in the woods. He made Zuko hobble on his own so he could stay back and watch him. That was fine. There were plenty of trees for Zuko to support himself against. Enough that he thought he might be able to make a break for it, when the time was right. He didn’t recognize his surroundings, and the creatures were only sort of familiar. Ant flies and beetle worms were scuttling over bark. Sparrowkeets flitting overheard. The river down the hill had to flow out to the sea. He could follow that, and once he was on the coast he could find some word of Uncle. 

“Hey. Chop chop, your highness. We have places to be,” Sokka said. 

So he wasn’t even allowed to have a second of thought. Zuko glared at the other boy. He hated him, and his stupid primitive weapons. 

Oh.

“Where are my swords?” Zuko demanded. 

Sokka frowned back at him. “I don’t know. Why?” 

Because they were the second-most important thing Zuko owned. The only thing that had ever been his and not his family’s. His only hope at defending himself without attracting attention behind enemy lines. “If anything has happened to my swords,” Zuko began. 

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll burn down our village. Sure you will, buddy.” Sokka rolled his eyes at him, and came a lazy step closer. “If you get out of this whole thing alive. And, if nobody else finds out you tried to break the Avatar out of Fire Nation custody. And, if there’s anyone left who takes you seriously after this. Plus.” He took another step closer, and all joking was gone from his face. His eyes were less blue than Katara’s. Harder. “You’d have to get through me. And I’m not going to let Katara die the way my mom did.” 

Zuko didn’t know what that meant exactly, but the meaning was clear anyways. He felt something small and cold curl up in his stomach. This was a feeling he knew well; it meant he needed to tread carefully. “Understood.” 

The light came back in Sokka’s eyes as quick as a spark catching. He smiled. “Good. Then let’s finish up here, and see if Aang kept your swords.” 

So that was a mutual agreement. No funny business during bathroom breaks, for the sake of both their dignity.

Leaving was a whirlwind. The pain of walking made it hard to process that Appa was the heap the siblings had been lying on even when he was walking around. Then a different kind of rush - the Avatar had stashed Zuko’s swords in their luggage. They were safe, in their scabbard. Zuko was so relieved he couldn’t think straight. And then something picked him up. 

It felt like being suddenly weightless. All of him was lifting, leaving his stomach behind, and before he could panic he was deposited smoothly in the skybison saddle. The Avatar landed, featherlight beside him with a big stupid smile on his face. “I’m not as good at other people. Was that okay? Does your leg hurt?” 

“It was fine.” Zuko hoped his face didn’t show any of the fear blooming in his chest. The two peasants were climbing up too, and it only occurred to him when they were all seated just how small this space was that they were all sharing. He folded his hands in his lap and kept his expression uninviting. 

Flying was nerve-wracking. It had been in the handful of seconds the Avatar had used his staff to keep them up during their escape, and it was no less frightening with the saddle beneath him. It wasn’t that big, now that he was in it. A skybison was just a beast, and Zuko had been thrown from too many ostrich horses to think animals were easy to manage. But the Avatar seemed to have a different connection with his animal, because the ride was steady after less than a minute. It felt a bit like being at sea, the slow rhythmic movement and wind whisking by. 

The bison took them above the clouds, and then settled into a steady path, straight ahead with purpose. A glance over the edge showed only fog and the occasional dark hint of ground far bellow This had to be why the Avatar had been so hard to find. He travelled silently, out of sight. 

Sokka unrolled a map and examined it closely, the edges ruffling in the wind. “Looks like the storm only took us a day off course or so. If we adjust our course-“ Abruptly, he cut himself off with a suspicious look at Zuko. Smart guy. Don’t tell your enemy where you’re headed. “Well. We should be right on schedule.” 

“Great,” Katara said. It did not sound like she thought it was great. Zuko noticed she was as far away as possible from him, pressed against the opposite side of the saddle.

“What’s got your parka in a bunch?” Sokka prodded back. 

“Nothing.” 

“You sure it’s nothing?” 

“Nothing I want to talk about.” 

“Well, that’s new.” 

“I need some air,” Katara said, and stood up. With impressive balance, she climbed to the front of the bison, over its shoulders to where the Avatar sat with the reins. 

Her brother stared after her. “There’s nothing but air up here,” he muttered to himself. And then he threw another suspicious look at Zuko. “Does that outfit have pockets?” 

“What?” 

“Pockets. Anything hidden in there?” 

Zuko was quickly getting alarmed. “No. I don’t have anything.” 

“So where’s Katara’s necklace?” 

Last on the list of Zuko’s concerns for the last night and day — that was the truth but he didn’t get the sense that would go over well. He tried to think. Where had he put it before leaving? “Back on my ship.” 

“Where in the ship?” 

“In my quarters somewhere. I don’t keep it with me at all times.” 

“Lot of sass from the hostage that can’t walk.” Sokka pointed the pointy end of a polished metal weapon at Zuko, and then tapped it against his chin. “Do you think your ship is still chasing us? They probably are, right?” 

Furious and frustrated, Zuko gritted his teeth. They definitely were. Father’s bounty on the Avatar’s head meant everyone was trying to find him. 

“So next time we run into them, we can sneak onboard and get Gran-Gran’s necklace back.” Half of this was directed at the Avatar, who was clambering into the saddle with a clumsiness that had to be on purpose. “Then Katara will stop being such a wet blanket. Bet you’ll be glad for that.” 

It took a moment to identify Sokka’s sort of desperate tone. He was trying to cheer the Avatar up, and worried it wasn’t working. For some reason his emotional state was tied to Katara’s, and she was upset. 

The attempt at light-heartedness didn’t make any impact on the Avatar. He sat looking curled up, ready for movement even when he was still. He faced Zuko, and stared him directly in the eyes. It was hard to take him seriously when he looked like an angry baby. But it was very easy to take him seriously because there was something more than human in his eyes. There were bruises on his face. Fire Nation soldiers put them there. “I took you with me because they would’ve killed you,” he said. 

“Do you want my thanks?” Zuko answered testily. 

“I want to figure out how we can both win,” the Avatar said. Like an idiot. As if a hostage situation could be mutually beneficial. “I don’t want you here. And you don’t want to be here. But if I let you go, you’ll try to capture me and that just means someone like Zhao again.” 

Zuko wasn’t clear what Zhao did to Aang, exactly. He’d noticed the Avatar wincing during their escape, but that didn’t say much. But he knew what Fire Nation prisons were like, and he didn’t want any more explanation. “True.” 

“I’m the Avatar. My job is to make peace.” 

“And my job is to bring you to my Father.” 

“I think my job comes first right now. So we can’t let you go yet. But we don’t want to hurt you.” 

This was not the conversation Zuko expected, and he was left without anything to say back. His first instinct was to agree to it. His second was helpless anger. They didn’t understand what was at stake, or they wouldn’t feel that way. It had to be true. It felt untrue. Maybe he’d find his own reasoning more convincing if the Avatar didn’t look so stubbornly sure. 

Ultimately, Zuko ended up saying nothing and looking away in defeat. What else could he do? Jump over the side? Try to sieze control of the bison? They had him immobilized even with his hands free. Which had to be an oversight, by the way. Or else the exact kind of totally delusional confidence he expected from two peasants and an old man child. 

They flew most of the day, stopped for food and water by another river. Zuko got a good look at the landscape around them as they descended, but it didn’t do him any good. He didn’t know the Earth Kingdom that well, and didn’t see any landmarks. 

The little group had a routine for the stop, moving together like machinery. The bison flopped in the river. Sokka started hacking through underbrush looking for food, while Katara refilled their waterskins. The Avatar didn’t seem to have a job; he spent all his time making some crude necklace for Katara. She couldn’t hide how little she wanted the thing. Didn’t seem to be able to lie. That could be useful for extracting information later.

 For now, though, Zuko was forced to be a sidekick to the bison. When the Avatar and his friends found some little village they wanted to explore, they instructed the beast to watch Zuko, and left them in some kind of barn together. Just the two of them.

A barn full of extremely flammable hay, Zuko almost wanted to remind them. He could burn the place down with their beloved creature inside of it before they saw smoke. But he'd rather be dead than give advice to his enemies, so he kept his mouth shut until they were gone. 

The bison stayed cooperatively still while Zuko struggled his way to solid ground, stayed where he was while Zuko used his broad, furry side as support while he caught his breath. "We're enemies," Zuko said towards its large head. "Remember? My crew almost knocked you out of the sky." 

Only a rumbling snort in response. Zuko had the humiliating hunch that he was being dismissed by an animal with a tail. 

Why not. One more indignity to add to the pile. Zuko's leg was hurting, and he had a hunch that it was bleeding a bit again. Gingerly, he sat down on one of Appa's massive paws. The fur was soft. The worst part of this was that he couldn't even run away. Using it for more than a moment had his leg in agony again, and they were in the middle of enemy territory, no Fire Nation strongholds anywhere near. If the locals knew his true identity, he’d be in danger from them too. Staying here was his safest option. And that meant he was still trapped, even alone. 

“I could steal you,” he said to Appa, but his heart wasn’t into it.

The animal could tell. It settled in for a nap. And Zuko was left to contemplate his impotent misery. Held hostage by three children who didn’t even have the decency to tie him up. 

Though, if the Avatar had been telling the truth, it was possible he didn’t intend this to be a hostage situation. He hadn’t made any mention of trading Zuko for something, which was good because Father didn’t know. And they hadn’t yet found out how little Zuko’s father wanted him back on his own. 

If he could just find some way to turn the tables. Once his leg had healed, he could pretend to be injured longer and then strike when they least expected it. Kidnap the Avatar back, while the others slept. Though, even then he’d need some safe place nearby to take him. Somewhere without Zhao, or any other bottom-feeding worm who wanted all the glory for themselves. They’d have no idea the Avatar was back if it weren’t for Zuko and the years he spent eating penguin seal jerky and pacing the same two hundred feet. 

Zuko didn’t realized he’d dozed off until the others came back and woke him arguing about some hack fortune teller and her predictions. Once he was awake, he wished he wasn’t. Fortunes and luck were made-up ideas that blinded people to the truth. To what effort could do on its own. 

That debate became the topic of the next few days. To be honest, Zuko didn’t pay it much attention. Once the adrenaline of the first hours faded he was having trouble thinking straight. He didn’t realize how much he used his right leg until there was pain shooting up it every time he tried, and that burnt though his energy fast. He spent more time in that stupid barn than anywhere else. Appa became tolerable. Escape was something he thought about out of routine, not a reasonable option. 

So Zuko didn’t run. Instead, he ate. He slept a lot. He got used to the way the sun moved around this location, slightly different than the schedule he was used to. It was an anchor, though. He felt the energy of the sun ebb and flow even in his sleep. And then one day, he was woken from a nap by a surge of unfamiliar energy. It rose like heartburn. Something very big and very hot was very close. 

The bison sensed something too. He was snorting in the way that meant he was uneasy. Zuko chewed on his bottom lip for a second, and then said aloud, “We could go see what’s happening.” 

Appa huffed in a way that seemed affirmative, and then knelt down next to Zuko to make it easier for him to get up on his back. Though, since no one was with him, Zuko struggled up between Appa’s horns to take the reins. 

Without any input from Zuko, Appa took off on his own. The takeoff was still uncomfortably sudden but at least over quick. Then they were soaring in a big arc towards the heat. Towards a mountain. Zuko smelled ash. “It’s a volcano,” he realized. “It’s about to erupt.” 

The Avatar swept into view almost out of nowhere, light and nimble on his glider. “Get out of the way! The volcano’s gonna blow,” he shouted as he approached. 

“I know. I can feel it,” Zuko called back. “But I don’t know if I can bend it.” 

Abruptly, the glider clicked shut and the Avatar dropped into the saddle behind Zuko. “You could cool it, can’t you? You can put out a fire.” 

“I could try. But.” 

“You won’t?” 

A muscle twitched in Zuko’s back. The urge to turn around and look at Aang, held in just barely. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to,” he said over his shoulder. 

“We have to try,” the Avatar insisted. “And we need Katara. I have an idea.”

They could bend clouds. The Avatar and his friend invented a new form of bending on the fly, and with such precision that they could make an omen for the village below to heed. 

Zuko tagged along so he could keep an eye on the imminent eruption and get them out in time. Or that’s what the Avatar told them, and Zuko didn’t say anything back. Keep the Avatar and his friends safe, keeping an Earth Kingdom village safe from natural disaster - this was betraying his country, Zuko knew it. If the volcano did explode, and the village burned, Zuko could likely save himself from the heat. He’d be fine. Stranded in the middle of a hardening lava flow and still unable to walk. The Fire Nation would consider that far more honorable than this. 

In this moment, Zuko’s self-preservation was stronger than his patriotism. He flew the bison and made sure they were ready when the molten rock began to flow. 

“I can cool the surface level and slow it down. Then you can harden the rest of it.” The Avatar was clinging to the bison right behind Zuko, leaning over his shoulder. He had the nerve to still sound upbeat about this. But then, he was a child. He didn’t know what a village burnt to death would smell like. 

Zuko forced himself to open his mouth. “I need solid ground.” 

“Appa, yip yip!” 

They swooped down to solid ground immediately. If only Zuko’s crew listened so well. When they landed, Aang helped Zuko onto a flat roof and stayed right there. Ready to help. 

Firebending required balance. Clarity. More than the other elements, because fire had a mind of its own. Zuko took a couple centering breaths. He needed focus. Intention. It came to him easily: no matter how he'd gotten here, he would not let these people die. Even if they were foolish enough to believe in destiny.

A final breath, deep in through his nose, out through his mouth. He assumed a stance the best he could, all weight on his good leg, and tried to imagine what he could draw on to do do this. To put out an entire volcano. He thought of the Fire Sages, the lava they lived around and drew their power from. Heat and fire, and the way they fed into each other even when only one was present. And he pictured the Avatar, using wind to deflect fire, scattering it into pieces too small to stay lit.

Even with his eyes closed, he could feel the heat approaching, the bright spots of fire at the edges and underneath as trees and grass became smoking ash. “Get it started,” he said. “Keep the air moving.” 

 The Avatar probably could’ve gotten it done on his own. The gust he summoned in one deep breath was a force of nature, sweeping away the heat so quickly that Zuko had to hurry to work with it. He breathed too, and the fire breathed with him. Cooled, and hardened to solid rock. 

Only when he opened his eyes again did Zuko understand the scale of what they did. The cooling volcanic rock covered half the mountain. It was nearly as tall as this building, only stopped meters away from where he and Aang were standing. They’d stopped a natural disaster. This was the greatest work of bending Zuko had ever done, and the only witnesses were his enemies. 

The villagers wanted to thank them individually, at length. Zuko was shaking hands and accepting gratitude for what felt like forever, until Sokka shepherded everyone onto Appa with some half-hearted excuses and they took off together. 

Silence at first, while they rose to cloud-height. They all seemed exhausted. Sokka was up front, talking to himself. His sister was on the other side of the Avatar, looking over the side of the bison at the sky below. 

“That was fun,” the Avatar said eventually. 

The understatement was so annoying Zuko had to say something. “Fun? No one alive has done bending like that.” 

“He’s the Avatar,” Katara contributed. “Things no one alive can do are kind of his whole thing.” 

That made sense. It was probably routine to them at this point, the feats of bending this child was able to do. And he did it so easily. Zuko thought, unbidden, of his sister and her aptitude. She would be on the Avatar’s trail next, if she wasn’t already. Word of Zhao’s failure had likely made its way back to the Father by now. Hopefully he’d been demoted by now. 

“It was fun because we all worked together,” Aang said firmly. “And I’m glad you were there.” 

Zuko had no idea how to respond to that, the usual state he found himself in after the Avatar spoke. He wasn’t glad he was here, except in the way that he was happy not to be in Zhao’s custody. Then again, he didn’t want to say something that could make them angry with him again. So he said nothing. 

Their travels next led to meeting up with some Water Tribe warrior, a scruffy-looking man who the siblings knew from home. Zuko knew he was not wanted here, so again he did his best to keep out of everyone’s way. He didn’t complain about their strange foods. He took note of the information they exchanged, which was mostly too old to be useful. He didn’t protest when they bound him to a tree while they went on some kind of ritual boating test. 

They left the lemur with him during that. A minute or two in, it flitted over and picked at one of the knots. “Don’t,” Zuko snapped.

The lemur was undeterred. And very nimble. It clung onto him and tried again. “Stop!” Zuko said louder. “They’ll think I tried to escape.” 

Momo tilted his head and made some chirping sounds back. 

“I don’t know what that means.” All of the Avatar’s friends spoke to the thing like it was sentient, and now Zuko was doing it too. He groaned, and looked up at the sky for a moment. “If you know what I’m saying, sit on my foot.” 

Without hesitation, Momo perched on the toe of Zuko’ boot and blinked at him expectantly. 

“Okay. I’m tied up because they don’t trust me.” 

Momo made a sound that sounded suspiciously like asking why. 

“Because I’ve tried to kill them, and I’m still trying to capture the Avatar for my father.” 

Another sound. Similar meaning. 

“Because I want to go home.” Tears rose in the back of Zuko’s throat, hot and sharp. “And I don’t get to go home unless I bring the Avatar back with me.” 

Saying it out loud gave the concept weight it didn’t have before. He’d gotten used to the mantra on his ship, and the disdain everyone around him treated it with. But saying it now, alone behind enemy lines, it sounded final. 

The little monkey crawled up to twine itself around Zuko’s head, making comforting sounds. “Stop. It’s not sad,” Zuko muttered. But he didn’t object when Momo decided to sleep on his shoulder until the others got back. It made him think of turtleducks. 

After less around two hours, the others were back. There was an air of energy to the way they got out. Aang’s hop off the boat took him meters into the air, and Sokka shouted something enthusiastically. He must’ve done well. Hopefully they’d discuss what happened over dinner without Zuko needing to ask. 

Katara came over to untie Zuko. She seemed to want a second away from all the back slapping and shouting, judging from the face she made. As she approached, she gave Zuko a frown. “You and Momo are friends, huh?” she asked as she went around to the back of the tree to untie the first knots. 

“I don’t know. He just fell asleep here.” It came out harsh. Zuko never felt sure of how to speak to her. Out of all of them, she was the most distant. She didn’t say much to him. Sometimes he’d find her watching, her eyes bright and deep, and he’d find himself shiver. 

“Maybe he was cold,” Katara said. 

“That’s probably it.” 

The ropes slackened. Momo flew off to circle around Aang in excited little aerial circles. Zuko reached out for the tree for leverage to get up, but instead he found himself holding a warm hand. Katara’s. She was helping him up. Her pull was so strong, he was almost unbalanced by how quickly he was vertical. By how close she was once he was standing, and how she was staring directly at him. “Why have you given in?” she asked.

“What?” 

“I’m not stupid. I know you’re playing along.” 

“Isn’t that a good thing, for you?” 

“Not from you. Because I’m sure it means you’re just planning something awful.” 

“Just getting away from you.” There was a brief, chest-heaving pause between them. Zuko hesitated, and straightened back up. He’d leaned in. He tried to clarify. “Or, not you. I mean all of you.” 

That wasn’t much of an improvement but it was a little better, based on her expression. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly for a second, and opened them again to answer. “Did you just admit to having a secret plan?” 

“I never said it was secret. You knew already.”

“Yeah, because you’re pretending like you’ve given in.” With her angry stomp, the water behind her over on the shoreline rose and fell. 

“I’m not pretending. I respect the fact that I wouldn’t be here without the Avatar. Or you, now. So I’m trying to, uh.” There was a backup of words in Zuko’s mind. He kept his mouth shut for a long time - too long, most people wouldn’t be okay with it. Katara waited with him, her shoulders moving with the deep breaths she was taking. The words wouldn’t come. 

“You don’t want to hurt us?” Katara finally asked. 

That was the truth he wanted to get at, but couldn’t figure his way to saying. And even saying a simple yes or no - it’d be a no - was beyond him. So he only shook his head, and avoided looking at her with all his might. 

“But you still would capture Aang, if you could.” 

“I have no choice. Without him, I can’t go home.” 

She didn’t seem to know that; Katara’s eyes widened, and she shifted back a bit to take a good look at him. “Why? Who says?” 

“My father. I suppose word of my banishment didn’t reach your village.” A mean thing to say, but he wanted the conversation to be over. 

Katara didn’t even blink. “It didn’t, no. And we’ve never heard how you got that scar, either.” 

He couldn’t understand why she’d say that. Why she was brave enough to look at it head-on when everyone else just stared. Early on, he used to practice. He’d imagine someone asking him what happened to his eye, and he’d say Battle scar, or Agni Kai, or if he was feeling honest, My father. But no one ever asked. They stared and whispered, and now the idea of saying any of his snappy comebacks made his mouth dry. 

“It looks like a burn,” Katara prompted, which was how Zuko realized he had been awkwardly silent for a long moment. 

“It is.” 

That was what she’d been expecting to hear, her satisfied nod told him that. Some of the tension that had been waiting in her shoulders and stance faded. “It must’ve hurt.” The understanding in her voice was so gentle it was painful. 

“It did,” he managed to answer. It did. 

That night, Bato asked the siblings to come with him to find their father, Hakoda. None of the polite conversational circles Zuko was accustomed to. He asked, and Katara looked at Zuko before she answered. “We can’t leave Aang alone right now. It’s too important.” Couldn’t leave him alone with Zuko, she meant. Smart girl. The only positive feeling he had was respect for that intelligence. He wasn’t pleased to be thwarted. He wasn’t. 

“You’ve been with us half of a month,” Katara announced one evening. “The moon’s in the opposite phase.” 

“Oh.” Zuko didn’t know exactly what meant, besides that the itchiness from his hair growing back was over and his leg was no longer in danger of tearing open with every flinch. Two weeks was a long time, though. Uncle probably thought he was dead. 

“We need a plan.” This was more pointedly directed at the other two, on the opposite side of the campfire. 

“We have a plan,” Sokka said through a mouth full of food. “Get to where we’re going. Train up. Go from there.” 

“We need a plan with Zuko.” 

Suddenly Zuko was the center of attention. All three of them looked at him. He wanted to pull the hood of his cloak up and disappear. It had been slipping his mind more and more, his status as their prisoner. They’d been letting him help him out more, setting up camp and all. It was nice to contribute. But of course, even if he set up a tent he was still the enemy. 

“What, you think we could ransom him back and get something cool?” Sokka eyed Zuko critically up and down. “What do you think a prince is worth?” 

Silence. The fire crackled, small and hot. Cicada crickets sung from the trees all around them. Nobody seemed to know, besides Zuko. He had to tell them. “Nothing. My father banished me, and my uncle has no resources he can access without Father’s approval.”

Katara frowned. Sokka pushed. “Come on. There really isn’t anybody who’d pay to get you back?” 

No one. And since he was acknowledging that, he thought it was probably also the right time to note too that his earlier thoughts of escape were childish fantasy. The Fire Nation was hardly any safer than the rest of the nations, except that the citizens might not kill him on sight. The fact of the matter, as depressing as it was to acknowledge, was that the Avatar and his friends were Zuko’s best chance at staying alive long enough to need a plan. 

His appetite was gone. Zuko picked at his bowl of vegetable stew. “Zhao might. For the ego boost.” 

“Wait, why do they have to pay?” Aang asked. 

Sokka scoffed. “Because why else would they want him?” 

“Well, hang on,” Katara interjected. “Who says we’re going to let him go?” 

Zuko forgot how to breathe. Or move. He waited for someone else to say something. 

“What do you mean?” Sokka sighed. “You’re the one that just brought it up, we can’t keep him around when we get where we’re going.” 

“Unless he wants to be around.”

Heat raised from Zuko’s chest to his face. “Why would I want that?” he blurted. 

“Because. What are you going back to?” 

“My Uncle. My country.” 

“Tell me it isn’t better for him if you stay away right now.” At the tone of her voice, Zuko involuntarily raised his eyes to hers and got caught there. “Zuko,” she said, just looking at him. 

“No.” Zuko shook his head. “I can’t do that to him.” 

“Do what?” Sokka gestured with his spoon. 

“Join us,” Katara answered evenly. The boys made sounds of disbelief, but she kept speaking over them. “Help Aang save the world.” 

Before she finished speaking Zuko was already shaking his head. “And never go home again? Give up everything I know for some mythical balance in the world? What if it never happens?” 

Firelight glinted in her eyes. “Then at least we were the ones trying. What do you have to lose?” 

There was only one true answer. Uncle. He’d miss his crew, the men whose lives he’d done it all to save, but he could live without them. But it wouldn’t be right to let Uncle suffer by giving him no word. Zuko owed him more than that. The old man followed him around the world for three years on a wild jackalope chase. Maybe he’d even follow him further. 

“Do you know what they plan to do to me, if you turn me over?” Aang’s voice was almost unsettlingly low. He didn’t sound like a kid right now. 

“No,” Zuko said automatically. 

“I do. Zhao told me, while I was imprisoned. He said they wouldn’t kill me, but only barely.” Because he’d reincarnate. Zuko followed the logic and felt sick once he got there. Aang was just a kid. Hunched up small, looking right into the fire. “I’ve been trying not to think about it, but I’ve already seen what Fire Nation soldiers do to my people.” 

Sokka let out a weak fake laugh. “I don’t blame you.” 

“If you turn me in, that’s where I’m going back to.” Aang turned his face towards Zuko, his eyes big and dark. “For my whole life. Is that the kind of person you are?” 

And there it was. The thing Zuko had been playing along to avoid thinking about. Another veil in his mind dropped, and he had to look straight at it. He’d rescued Aang from that situation once, for selfish reasons. But he couldn’t deny that there’d been a feeling in his heart, a clench of pain at seeing a kid locked up like that. Satisfaction at getting him out of there for reasons other than his own goals. 

He tried to adapt to this new fact by reassessing his options. Okay. So he needed the Avatar to return home, but he could never surrender Aang to the merciless Fire Nation prisons. He wanted to speak with Uncle, but going back now would mean placing himself right back in Zhao’s way. A dangerous place to be. And, least comfortable, he wanted to return the favors he owed the Avatar and his friends. 

Where was Uncle Iroh when he needed him? 

“Where’s the map?” Zuko asked. 

Sokka lay it out flat with a suspicious glare. The night was getting darker. Zuko lit a small flame in his palm to help him read, and heard Aang inhale sharply. Oh, right. He’d been holding back from firebending around them. Maybe they wished he wouldn’t do this much. 

Whatever. He scanned the shorelines of the Earth Kingdom. “Here.” He pointed. “You’re heading North. To the Northern Water Tribe, right? Most of the Navy will need to go west, around Earth Nation. The rivers are too shallow. But my ship is light. Uncle will come this way. We can meet him here.” 

“Meet him and say what? ‘Let’s switch sides’?” Sokka drawled. 

“No. I need to see him. To let him know I’m alright. As far as he knows, I went to rescue the Avatar and never came back.” 

“Okay.” Katara’s voice was nearer than he expected. She must’ve been looking over his shoulder. “We’ll meet with your uncle. Until then-“ 

Zuko nodded, and completed her sentence for her. “We can work together.” He looked at Aang then, and Sokka. “Deal?” 

In an instant, Sokka had hopped up to stand between Zuko and the other two. “Only if you swear to never tell anyone anything you learn about anything we’re planning,” he said sternly.

Not an option for many reasons. First, Zuko would want to keep that information to himself so he could find Aang first. But on top of that, the Avatar had been right. He couldn’t allow himself to be naive about the mission he’d been given any longer. “Never,” he agreed. “So tell me about the plan.” 

It wasn’t as bad as he worried it would be. A lot of what he’d assumed were mistakes had other explanations, and the pieces he’d been missing were big. He hadn’t considered the Avatar’s plans would be so informed by his friends, for one. A misjudgment that felt stupid now that he knew them. Aang was just a kid. Of course he didn’t know what he was doing. 

Sokka and Katara didn’t know either. They were smart, but Zuko still could tell they’d never had training like his. Didn’t know how to estimate the movement of troops or trade gossip at port cities. The hunt had given him skills that would serve the hunted just as well, and Zuko didn’t know what that meant. It made him feel like Katara had a point. If he had so much in common with one side, so little with his nation, how else could he take it? 

Well, there was one way he could think of. Father would think this was proof. Zuko was undisciplined. He had no respect for any traditions that didn’t suit him. But neither did Katara, and she never seemed to wonder if what she did was right or wrong. Right came easy to her. 

Tonight, Zuko imagined it was easy for him too. They traced paths with their fingers, talking on top of each other. First destination was the Northern Water Tribe - which meant Sokka had been right, Zuko would have no eager welcome waiting there. “Okay, but once you’re there. Is there a magic object or something that will unlock your powers?” Zuko asked. 

Aang blinked at him. “No. But there will be waterbending masters, and I can learn from them. Katara and Sokka will connect with their people.” 

“How does that help restore balance to the world?” 

He regretted the question the moment he said it. Of course, Zuko was immediately asking questions that made Sokka and Aang upset. He was saying the wrong things. Thankfully, Katara smoothed it over. “Aang needs to learn all four elements, and become a fully-realized Avatar. Then, he’ll know what to do next.” 

“How?” 

The discussion of the plan was detoured for a while to explain that Aang, who was trying and failing to hide picking his nose at this exact moment, had a spiritual connection to all his past lives that gave him guidance. Not on command, but when he needed them. His eyes would glow, and his tattoo, and he had access to the skills of everything. Zuko had a vague memory of seeing this once before, of the Avatar falling into the sea and rising in a pillar of water. He’d assumed Aang was able to bend water, at the time. Didn’t notice glowing eyes, but it had been far away. So what they were saying was possible, but Zuko had never seen it with his own eyes. 

Alright. So hypothetically the Avatar could do these incredible feats and call on his previous lives, and those lives could tell him how to save the world. That was the plan, and Zuko agreed to it for now. Uncle would know if that was a good idea. Zuko would feel much better about this plan once he had his uncle’s thoughts. And if he saw Uncle and his plan to join the Avatar on his mission sounded as dumb as Zuko feared it would, then maybe he would let himself be talked out of it. 

The Avatar’s arguments wouldn’t have worked on Azula. She would turn him in in a heartbeat. She’d probably ask if she could do the torturing herself. 

For now, though, Zuko let himself believe what he wanted could be true. It wouldn’t hurt anybody if he believed in the Avatar for a few days. He could do some good in the world, and no one from home would mind too much. 

Katara was the only person who seemed to really understand why Zuko was torn. “I think you’re doing the right thing,” she said as the two of them smothered the fire before bed. 

That was so exactly what Zuko wanted to hear that his face flushed, and any answer died in the heat. Unfortunately, that became normal with Katara. Now that she was friendlier with him, Zuko realized just how cold she’d been before. It felt like the sun had come out, and saw right through him. Sokka and Aang were the same as always, pleasant but not important. The Avatar was nice to everyone and Sokka seemed to default to jokes that meant very little. Katara’s attention was substantial. It warmed him. 

Of course, it couldn’t be that easy. Fate decided that Zuko’s shift in loyalty was immediately tested. Their travels took them past one of the Fire Nation colonies. Zuko could smell the soot on the wind even before Aang found a poster for their Fire Day’s festival. 

They were low on food and too hungry to hunt. Zuko was sure that was the only reason the others were even considering heading into town. It was very unwise of them to let their recently released hostage into a city full of his countrymen. Or maybe they believed him. Believed the truth. These people wouldn’t welcome Zuko any more than the Earth Nation people did. His father would make anyone who helped him regret it. 

Aang begged to see a firebending master at work, and Zuko wondered if he was supposed to offer to show Aang things or if that would be falling right into a trap set to see if he’d changed. In the end he didn’t offer, because Katara agreed the festival could be fun and they were going either way. Only Sokka seemed to realize what a bad idea this could be. He came over while they were getting ready to leave behind Appa and Momo, and issued another flinty-eyed warning. “I’ve got my eye on you. Don’t even think about double-crossing us.” 

“I won’t,” Zuko said, but that promise didn’t feel like enough. He looked at Aang and Katara, a little further away, and raised his voice so they’d hear this too. “Everyone wears masks at the festival. No one will know who we are. It’s as safe as possible. And if things go wrong, we’ll split up and meet back here.” 

That loose plan was enough to please Katara and Aang, to appease Sokka, so it was settled. They were walking into town together. The banished Fire Nation prince, the Avatar, and his friends. Zuko couldn’t manage all the things he felt as they got closer, as he smelled the fire flakes and torches and perfumed candles. He was scared, and excited, and hungry. And under all of that, there was the sense that he was coming home.. This was home, every smell and sight comfortable and familiar, but he could only have it as long as no one knew. 

The masks were less elaborate than they’d been in the Palace, but they were still fun. Zuko chose a red mask that made him think of the Blue Spirit, and looked around at his companions. A smiling flower, a beautiful doll, a crying face. With their hoods up, they could be anyone. Friends from home, if he’d had them. 

Zuko did his best to let the others have their fun. He ate the rest of Sokka’s fire flakes, he let Aang tug him a million different directions in his excitement, and he kept an eye on Katara. She was the quietest, paying attention to everything around them. Impossible to tell what she thought behind the mask, but Zuko kept trying. She didn’t seem to hate it. That was the thing that surprised him. They were having fun like anybody else here.

Excited, Aang waved them over to a puppet show. He didn’t seem to notice one of the puppets was the Fire Lord. Father. Zuko watched it burn the other puppet and didn’t let himself look away. 

“Hey.” Katara tapped his shoulder. “Are you okay with all this?” 

“I’m fine,” Zuko answered. Too quick. “I don’t miss it. If that’s what you’re asking.” 

“Of course you do.” Her words were quiet, muffled by the mask.

Yeah. He did. He wanted to tell her he wouldn’t switch sides again, but it felt like a bad idea to bring that up if she wasn’t thinking it. “I don’t miss it that much,” he amended. “Or I’m used to it. I’ve been away for three years.”

“That’s how long it’s been?” she asked. 

“Yes.” 

They were distracted by Aang ending up onstage for some kind of performance. It didn’t exactly seem like a good sign that he was the only audience member volunteering, but Zuko was pretty sure it wouldn’t hurt anybody. Not on stage. 

It was a clever bit of firebending, the dragon. Hard to maintain that much control over shape except with a lot of practice. Zuko thought he saw some finger movements that might’ve helped, and for a second the old thrill was back. He was learning, putting something together. 

“Is he okay?” Katara asked. She’d moved closer at some point. Her hand was on Zuko’s arm. 

“Just fine,” Zuko said. 

Spoke too soon. Somebody recognized him as the Avatar about three seconds later, so they had to make a run for it. The masks helped. A stranger helped too. With a few smoke bombs and Appa, they managed to make it out of there. The stranger came too. Aang and Sokka were talking to him, but again Zuko noticed Katara waiting. Listening. Maybe she thought what he did: this guy was too convenient to be true. 

“I serve a man,” the stranger said when pressed, and there was the part Zuko was expecting. He wasn’t expecting the name, though. Jeong Jeong the Deserter. And he didn’t expect the Avatar to beg to meet him. 

“This could be my only chance to meet a firebending master who would actually be willing to teach me,” Aang said pleadingly, and all Zuko could do was wonder which one of those disqualified him. Did he not think Zuko a master? Or think he wouldn’t be willing? 

Zuko shouldn’t be willing. Training the Avatar in firebending would be a direct act of treason. But he wished he’d been asked so he could know what he’d say. 

Men with spears surrounded them, and Zuko noticed that Katara had taken a defensive stance on his left side. It wasn’t as easy to see from that eye, something that didn’t worry him with Katara there. But there was plenty of fear here to occupy his mind. They were being taken at spearpoint to meet the highest-ranking Firebender to defect. So far, his hood had kept anyone from looking too close at him, but it was a matter of time. There were more people ahead of them, so Zuko exaggerated his limp and let himself fall back. 

To his surprise, Katara slowed to walk next to him. She didn’t ask him anything - good, because he wouldn’t be able to answer honestly - but she was there. 

It was a surprise that the deserter would refuse Aang. Zuko didn’t expect that, though he could’ve predicted that Aang would force his way in anyways. But why wouldn’t someone want to help Aang? He’d had the sense that all revolutionaries must’ve been on the same side, but of course they weren’t. Just like he wasn’t safe in town, they were not necessarily amongst friends here. 

He was getting more formal in his own head. Nervous habit. Instead, he leaned over to catch Katara’s attention. He wanted to say her name, but it caught in his chest. “Hey,” he ended up saying. None of the nearest guards noticed.

Immediately, she leaned in and answered in an undertone, “Hey. Have you heard of this guy?”

“Yes. He was the most wanted man as long as I can remember.” 

“Do you think the Fire Lord knows where he is?” 

Zuko’s chest seized up tight. “No. He can’t. Not this far into Earth Kingdom territory.”

“Okay. So at least we don’t have to worry about that.” She crossed her arms tighter around her legs, and Zuko really thought about how it must feel to have the Fire Lord himself lurking over their shoulders. “I hope Aang knows what he’s doing.” 

At that point, Sokka leaned over. “Why are we whispering?” he said in a whisper so loud the guards told them to stop talking. 

It was aimless sitting around until suddenly, it wasn’t. The tent glowed white and ground trembled, and then Aang rocketed out with a huge smile on his face. He shouted to all of them that training would start today, and the guys standing around as informal guards relaxed. 

“So that’s it?” Sokka spoke up. “We were prisoners, and now we’re guests because this guy says so?” He crawled over towards them, but then he realized he could get up and walked the rest of the way. 

“That is how the countryside tends to be,” Zuko said. “Out here, no one is really in charge.” It felt weird to be sitting while Sokka was standing so he got up, and Katara did too. He should’ve helped her. “I’m sure that’s why Jeong Jeong is here. No one has the power to turn him in.” 

The men who had previously pointed spears at them now wandered away in ones and twos. A few kept eyes on all of them from more of a distance. There was no doubt in Zuko’s mind that they’d raise those spearpoints again if they thought they needed to. 

Everyone waited together, keeping Aang company. He was vibrating with energy, buzzing so intensely Zuko almost expected him to start floating. “This is so cool! I can’t wait to learn how to make a dragon. Or a fireball.” 

“I don’t know. That dragon looked advanced,” Zuko started to say.

Aang was not listening. He was doing a backflip. 

“Good to burn out energy before training. Sometimes he can be… a lot,” Katara said in an undertone. 

“So what do we do?” 

Sokka answered, stretching his arms above his head. “Train. Laundry or something. Just stay ready, and stay packed. We’ll probably be out of here in a couple days. Might be in a hurry.” 

No sooner did Sokka say that than Jeong Jeong swept out of his tent. 

The first person who the deserter spoke to was Zuko. “Hood off, boy. Do they not teach respect for your elders?” 

Anger - maybe fear - ignited white-hot in Zuko’s stomach. He swept the hood off his head, and stared defiantly at the man. “I understand respect. I had quite the teacher.” 

He’d seen many reactions to his face. Sometimes it felt good to make old, arrogant men pale at the sight of him. Today, it felt revealing. Aang and Katara and Sokka had never seen this happen before and Zuko didn’t realize until it was happening how much it would suck. 

Jeong Jeong bowed his head. “Of course, your Highness.” 

The men around them heard that. They were looking too. Someone was whispering that Zuko might send word to his father. So that was perfect. 

“Hey, Zuko. Over here. Train with me,” Katara said loudly. 

Gratitude bit like acid into his throat. “Okay.” 

The last thing anyone wanted to see him do was firebend, so Zuko decided to mimic Katara’s forms. It felt familiar and not. Same foot movements but different arms. No need for the same intense core focus, because water was around not within. She didn’t bend from herself. 

After some stretches, Katara began actual training. With a little effort, she pulled a wall of water up with a movement led in her wrists, pushed it out across the surface of the river. He mimicked the movement, itching to see if it would work with fire. She tried a move she hadn’t mastered yet, coating her arms in water for hand-to-hand combat. Zuko had to think about what it might look like to do it himself, if tongues of flame wrapped themselves up his arms to slam into things. 

Aang’s training didn’t go nearly as well. He complained over dinner about how slow it was going. Breathing, and feeling the sun. Zuko heard himself in the younger boy, and had a moment of sympathy for his uncle. He was sure he hadn’t sounded so whiny. 

“I’m sure you just need to be patient, like he said.” Katara sounded like she’d said this a lot before. 

“Yeah…” Aang sighed dejectedly. 

“My teachers didn’t let me use real fire for months,” Zuko said. 

“Months? I don’t have that kind of time.”

“Oh. No, of course. I didn’t mean you’d wait months. I just.” Zuko’s face was hot. He just thought maybe he should contribute, but like everything else he did that seemed wrong. 

The next day was much like the previous one. Aang got training. The rest of them were left to their own devices. There hadn’t been much downtime on the ship, not when the search for the Avatar required constant research and planning. Every second could be spent improving himself. But now he had the Avatar found, and bending still felt like something that would earn him attention he didn’t want. He probably didn’t even need to train much, though. His skills wouldn’t fade after a few days. So Zuko settled in to stretch again. 

Only a move or two in, Katara turned to him. “Do you usually train without fire?”

“No.”

“So why are you doing it now?” 

“Because people probably aren’t eager to see how dangerous the crown prince is.” 

“Why not train with swords?” 

Zuko lowered his voice out of instinct. “No one knows I use those.” 

That changed something on her face. She understood something he hadn’t meant to tell her. “Come on. Try this one.” She demonstrated, the pull up and push out from yesterday. Maybe she could tell he wanted to yesterday. 

Once he decided to do it, the move was easy enough. Rather than pulling, he painted the air with flame as his hands moved up leaving behind a shimmering wall of flame. For a moment, he admired the light. The warmth. He’d missed it. Then he pushed it towards the opposite shore, the water boiling underneath. 

“Nice. First try,” Katara said after a moment. 

“It felt natural.” He took a moment to consider why. “Like a move I learned before.” Hesitant, he demonstrated that one. He took extra care not to do it near anyone. A wall raised before him, yellow and gold, and then he cleaved through it with his hands pressed together into a blade.

When Katara tried it, the water she raised crystalized into a thick sheet of hard, misty ice. Her downward chop sent shards flying. None hit him. “Wow,” she said with an awed look on her face. 

“Wow,” he agreed. 

“What else can you show me?” 

Showing Katara what he knew would take longer than an afternoon, so he tried to start with something good. A few helpful techniques that seemed like a good fit for her style. Every time she figured out how to do it Zuko got a rush of secondhand pride. He was an alright teacher, and she was an excellent student, and the teaching process kept him from thinking too much about the men watching them. Waiting for him to do something wrong. Looking at the left side of his face with intensity he could feel, and hated. They wanted to know what the edges looked like. If his eye moved. If his ear was damaged - yes, it was - and what was going on with his hair, mostly short except for the long but not high ponytail he kept it in for ease.

It would almost be better if they’d just ask about it. That was what people really wanted, he thought. 

Katara would be a talented bender once she got training, that was clear after the first thirty minutes. She took his critiques well, with single-minded determination not to make the same mistake twice. And it was easy to communicate with her. She understood what he meant almost before he said it. Respected his knowledge, but not too much to get what she needed. 

“Can you change the temperature of fire?” Katara asked him at one point.

That was probably something he’d done before. Zuko was in the middle of trying to figure out how he’d done it when Aang’s voice distracted them both. 

“I should see what that is,” Katara said, and walked over that way. 

Zuko didn’t follow. He didn’t need to be at her side all the time, and she certainly didn’t want that. On his own, he tested out a couple of her moves again, getting used to this new feeling of fire moving like liquid. Maybe one of these movements would’ve worked on the lava. 

Heat and light flared nearby. Katara screamed. Zuko ran. 

Katara and Aang were in the clearing near all the tents. The air smelled hot. There was horror on the Avatar’s face, and Katara was clutching her hands to her chest. Sokka came sprinting into view too, and tackled Aang to yell at him. Katara ran away, back towards the water. 

This happened in a few seconds, all at once. Zuko’s head was swimming. And right then Jeong Jeong told them they had to leave. Zhao was here to find them. 

Zhao. Probably had a couple ships with him. No one from home had seen Zuko working with Aang and his friends, and he wasn’t eager for that to change. But Katara had gone off on her own, so the first thing Zuko had to do was find her. There were dangerous men near and she was already hurt. 

When he found her, Katara’s hands were glowing in the stream. She pulled them out. There was no sign of burns at all. 

“What happened?” Zuko asked. 

“I don’t know. It just happened.” 

“You have healing abilities. The great benders of the Water Tribe sometimes have this ability.” Jeong Jeong’s voice surprised them both. He must’ve followed closely. Jeong Jeong came closer. His steps were feeble. “I’ve always wished I were blessed like you. Free from this burning curse.” 

Katara’s eyes flicked towards Zuko. “I’m sure you have powers I’ll never know.” 

The old man’s face was sad. “Water brings healing and life, but fire brings only destruction and pain. You should know this better than anyone.” This last bit was directed at Zuko.

It didn’t feel true. Uncle Iroh would’ve been able to say why, but Zuko just pressed his lips together in frustration. He had to focus. “We need to get to Appa. Come on,” he told Katara, and she took off at a run with no hesitation. Which was good. They needed to get out of here. 

Sokka was tugging Aang by the hand towards Appa. “Hurry up, Aang. Zhao will spot us any minute, and it sounds like he’s got 3 ships with him.” 

“You know from the sound?” Zuko frowned. 

“Pretty distinctive, to a guy like me.” Sokka winked. 

A second conversation was happening at the same time, Katara telling Aang about the healing. But all of them had heard Zhao’s name and reacted with the proper amount of speed. They were climbing onto Appa when Aang, the last one up, hesitated. Zuko didn’t have enough time to say a thing. “I have to help him,” Aang said, and ran back towards where Jeong Jeong was making his final stand. 

Zuko turned to the other two. “You’re just going to watch him go?”

“That’s kind of what he does.” Sokka took Katara’s hands in his. “So you can heal stuff now? You’re okay?” 

“I guess so.” Katara looked down at her hands, twisted them back and forth to look. “It felt like. When I learned how to do that birdcall.” 

“Oh yeah.” Sokka demonstrated, a trill of his tongue that Zuko knew he couldn’t do. 

Katara nodded. “It just clicked, all of a sudden. Maybe I always would’ve been able to do it if I tried.” 

“Oh. Well thanks for all the first aid over the years,” Sokka began, and cut himself off. “Aang, come on! Let’s go!” 

The literal dust clouds behind Aang as he ran never got less surreal. He dashed towards them as they took off and landed in the saddle with a perfectly-timed high jump. And just like that, they made it into the sky and away. Nobody had seen Zuko. His secret was safe for a while longer, and everyone else was too. 

“Where’s Jeong Jeong?” Katara asked.

“He disappeared. They all did. Zhao will be walking home empty-handed.” Aang looked over the side, at the land they were leaving behind. “Maybe he was right. Maybe I should start with water and earth.” 

“At least water, so you can put out any fires you start,” Sokka called up from the front. A laugh line that didn’t get any laughs. 

Aang’s little eyebrows were drawn together harshly. “Maybe he’s right. Fire is dangerous.” 

“Anything’s dangerous,” Zuko found himself saying. “Like the sea. Fire isn’t better or worse. It’s just different. It’s a hearth. Light.” 

“So you think Jeong Jeong was wrong?” Katara asked. 

“Misguided,” Zuko said after a moment. “But I get it. He’s been through a lot. The Fire Nation isn’t forgiving to traitors.” His scar felt particularly thick at that second, like a thing stuck to one side of his face that he couldn’t get off. The thing that made him so recognizable. The mark of someone who’d suffered. 

With water from her waterskin, Katara healed a little burn on Aang’s arm. Zuko watched, and blinked hard. His eyes were dry from the wind. 

“Zuko,” she said, and he startled from just the idea that she could hear what he was thinking. “Can I try to heal your leg?” 

Awkwardly, he gave his consent and stretched the limb out. Katara didn’t ask him to take off his pants, thankfully. Water soaked through his pant leg just fine, and started glowing bright enough to see it anyway. It itched, deep near the middle of his thigh. Near the bone. And then the feeling moved up towards the skin, moving from the inside out and when the glow faded, there wasn’t even a residual ache. 

He must’ve thrown his hand out, and Katara must’ve caught it because he found his hand in hers and pulled it back before he knew what he was doing. “Thank you,” he said stiffly. 

“Of course. I’m glad I could help,” Katara said, and busied herself with another scratch on Aang. 

Travel passed quickly in the sky. A couple days later, they made it to the small port city where they’d agreed to wait for Iroh. In a manner Zuko was quickly picking up on being normal, Aang suddenly decided he wanted to visit the Northern Air Temple. He could get there in a few hours on his glider from here, and they’d planned on waiting a day or two for word anyways. The timing worked. But Zuko still felt uneasy about it. “What if something goes wrong?” 

“Like what?” Sokka scoffed. “Someone else captures him for the Fire Nation?” 

“Maybe.” Zuko looked at the horizon. “All of you should go together. You can leave me here for a night.”

“No way. You shouldn’t be on your own either,” Katara said. Zuko had the hope an instant before she made it true. “I’ll stay with you. Sokka, go with Aang. We’ll meet back up in two days. Send Momo if something happens.” 

“What about if anything happens to you?” Sokka said, with a suspicious frown at Zuko. 

“It won’t,” Zuko said. “Nothing will happen to her. You have my word.” That might not mean much to Sokka, but it was all Zuko had. He meant it with all his heart. 

This time, that seemed good enough. Sokka hugged his sister goodbye, gave Zuko a threatening speech, and just like that. The two of them took off on Appa. Zuko and Katara had what they could carry, and their wits. That was all. 

Katara took a deep breath. “Okay. We can find somewhere to stash our stuff outside the city.” 

“I have a better idea.” Zuko sat down and unlaced one of his boots. He borrowed her knife to cut open the sole, and one at a time, sliced coins out of where they’d been sewn to the lining. “We can rent a room at a boarding house somewhere. That will raise less suspicion, too.” 

“Why do you have money in your shoes?”

“My uncle did it. In case anything happened.” 

 “He seems to care about you very much.” Katara’s tone was carefully neutral. When he glanced up at her, Zuko found concern on her face. 

She really didn’t know anything about him or his family. The fact sunk in like it was the first time he heard it, because now it hit home. She didn’t know anything he hadn’t told her. It made him determined to leave nothing out. As he kept cutting coins out, he told her. “Uncle was the only person who volunteered to join my hunt for the Avatar. He pretended it was just for fun, but I know he’d rather be somewhere with good tea. He did it for me. So I wouldn’t be alone.” 

“So that’s why you can’t leave him alone.” 

Yes, except that was just the last thing Uncle had done for him. The grandest gesture. When Zuko thought of his uncle, he didn’t think of just one thing. It was a whole childhood of things. Of Uncle being the only person the palace that cared about Zuko as more than the prince. But that was nothing he could explain to someone who wasn’t there. 

By now, he’d gotten all the money out of both shoes, so he stood and scooped up the little pile of money. “That’s part of it.” Standing next to her with a fistful of coins and a lump in his throat from thinking about Uncle, it was suddenly awkward. He hoped his cheeks weren’t flushed. “Let’s find a room and then see what docked ships have heard. Sailors love to gossip.” 

“My Gran-Gran always said that men on ships were louder than seagulls.” 

“She was right.” Zuko hazarded another look in Katara’s direction and caught a glimpse of a smile on her face. “Let’s go.” 

The walk into town was pleasant. Songbirds flew overhead, and the piercing call of a screeching dodo rang out every so often. The weather was nice. But Zuko couldn’t spare much attention for any of that. His attention was elsewhere. And never in his life had Zuko been so strongly aware of something as he was aware of Katara. She walked next to him, and even Uncle usually stayed a couple paces behind. Clearly, she was unaware of Fire Nation court protocols. That was better for their cover, anyways. But also he liked her being there. On his left, again. Covering him.

The port of New Jonduri was small, as far as Fire Nation ports went, but large enough to have two different boarding houses. Zuko made them go to both, and then back to the first place they’d visited. There, he haggled their way to paying three silver pieces for a room with two beds for two nights. Meals were extra, but that was fine. They could fend for themselves.

“Why this one?” Katara asked, as they climbed the steps to their room. She’d been quiet for most of the process which he was trying to not think too much about. 

“The other innkeeper was too talkative. He’d tell anyone we were here.” The innkeeper here had largely communicated with him through grunts and grimaces. Uncle would love her. 

The room was bare, but the beds looked solid enough. Most importantly, the room had a lock. They weren’t leaving anything valuable behind, didn’t have anything valuable in their packs, but just in case. 

“Okay,” Katara said, hands on hips. “Now the docks. Do you need a disguise?” 

Zuko looked at her blankly. “Why?” 

“Jeong Jeong and his soldiers knew you immediately.” 

“They were military.” Even that didn’t make an impact on her, and Zuko realized there were other explanations he had to provide that weren’t as easy as talking about Uncle. He couldn’t bring himself to say it, so he tried to talk around it. “We don’t have to worry about anyone knowing my face besides Fire Nation soldiers.” 

“You’re sure?” 

“Yes.” 

“Will you tell me why?” 

It was strange to feel outmaneuvered by someone asking straight-forward questions. Just asking, and waiting for his answer. Even in the dim light that made it in through the small window, her eyes were almost luminously blue. He avoided them. “The only people who know about my mark are military. My father spread the word as a warning to them.” 

Katara frowned. “Did it happen in war?” 

“No. But. It was connected.” More words weren’t coming; even the ones he got out were difficult. It was making him nervous, and that was making him angry. He crossed his arms. “You ask a lot of questions.” 

“Well, I’m trying to get to know you.” 

“We can get to know each other after I know where my uncle is,” Zuko said awkwardly. 

That was the kind of thing Azula would make fun of him for saying, and rightfully so. But Katara just rolled her eyes at him, and let that be the end of things. For now. 

As he’d observed before, Zuko was not good at working on a team. He wasn’t used to it. His childhood had been largely solitary, his training even more. And he wasn’t sure why. Azula got her friends. She had her team. Zuko, when working with someone for the first time ever, just walked away from her. In his defense, he had an idea in mind. The exact right guy who he could probably goad into telling him something good - younger, vain about his looks. It was halfway into the conversation when he realized he’d simply left Katara behind. He stopped talking in the middle of a word to get eyes on her, and found her in a conversation of her own the next dock over. Just fine. 

Deep breath. Zuko finished digging for information, and made his way back to her casually. As he got close, Katara looked over her shoulder at him and gave him a tense smile. “Oh! Here he is. Thank you so much.” She seized his hand in both of hers and steered him away. 

Zuko’s whole arm seized up. “What is happening?” he asked as quietly as he could manage, which wasn’t very. 

“Relax,” Katara whispered. 

That was not possible. Her hands felt cool. Or maybe his were hot. He made an effort to walk and not be dragged. Katara walked them both to the end of the dock and then stood there. “I told them you’re my husband. Me and Sokka do it all the time. I got something good. What’d you find out?” 

“Oh. My uncle is less than a day out. Only one steamship this far north in the river.” She told people her brother was her husband all the time? That couldn’t be what she meant. She and Sokka told people they had husbands, maybe. But who? Not Aang. He was a child.

“Great. I heard hawks were sent from the Fire Nation capital telling everyone to save their rations. A large navy force is stopping by here to stock up in a few weeks.” 

That was a very good piece of information. Zuko looked down at her. “Oh. Okay. Good thing we’re getting out faster than that.” 

“I’d say. We should tell them to prepare.” 

Right. When they get to the Northern Water Tribe. Where he was not going to be welcome at all. He had to mentally correct himself, then - not when, if. If he got to the Northern Water Tribe, if things didn’t blow up before then, if he didn’t find sense soon. It couldn’t be the best idea to follow the Avatar into a full-on battle with the Fire Nation. “Good idea,” he said out loud. “Let’s see what else we can find.” 

At dinner, they exchanged what other information they’d been able to gather. Most of it was just gossip. Names who’d been in fights, or defeated an owl wolf, or speared an elephant koi. Katara laughed easily. A lot. The best Zuko could do was a few moments of a smile, because he couldn’t help but feel the clock on their time together ticking down. Uncle would be here soon. He couldn’t agree this was the thing Zuko should do. Father and home would draw him back in. It couldn’t be this easy to get away. 

For starters, there was so much left out that he hadn’t told them. They’d been more open with him than he deserved, and he didn’t know how to return the favor. And for some reason that thought connected directly to his mouth. “I didn’t know your necklace was important.”

So then that was out there. 

With pointed slowness, Katara put down her cup. “Oh.” 

“And I didn’t take it on purpose. I was just looking for leverage. If I could give it back, I would. But I know that’s no excuse.” 

There was a long silence then. Zuko’s eyes were focused on his plate, waiting for the inevitable dressing down. “No, it isn’t,” she said at last. “But I appreciate you being honest.” 

Zuko gave a stiff nod. "Of course." 

An awkward silence grew between them. If only they didn't have to speak at all. If only they could just focus on training and missions. Working well together, which they did without trying. But then, that was what got them here. They were so in sync that Zuko couldn't let everything unsaid between them stay that way. It felt like betraying her trust to rely on her forgiveness without having really apologized.

"That necklace is the only thing I have left from my mother. Before the Fire Nation took her from me." Katara's voice was quiet. A little angry. "It's important to me. So if there's any chance you could find it again-"

He cut her off, eager to give an answer. "My uncle wouldn't let anyone touch my things so soon. I'll find it." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her nod. Unclear if she believed him or not, but that was fine. Zuko was used to people not believing in him. 

The sky was dark by the time they finished eating, and the temperature dropped enough that Zuko shivered when they stepped outside. Zuko took a deep breath in and let it out using just a touch of his breath of fire to warm himself. Luckily, Katara didn't seem chilly at all. He didn't have to try and determine how to offer her help, because she was probably used to the cold. Her clothes were layers, and looked warm. Not that he'd been looking.

"I thought you'd be more talkative," Katara said. 

It took a moment for Zuko to process that. She'd thought about what he'd be like? "Why?" 

"You're a prince. I guess I figured you'd be used to barking orders." 

She did correctly assess that, but it was mostly because of the last year. Not life in the palace. "My father believed children should be seen and not heard."

"And you never broke that rule even a little?" she asked, her voice light and playful. 

There were bad parts of her not knowing anything about him. No part of his story was in her mind, and he couldn't resent her for what she didn't know. If Bato was anything to judge by, her father had been nothing like his. "I did," Zuko said. "And he banished me." 

"Oh." 

Silencing her felt oddly good. Like she was taking this seriously. The first person to hear the story and take it the way he thought someone might, one day. Wish fulfillment he felt sick for getting, because then he felt like a pathetic little worm. He wanted her to feel bad for him? Pity was not desirable, no matter what side he was on. 

"Maybe I was just thinking about Sokka," Katara said. "He's the only other boy your age I know, and he never shuts up." 

"True." Zuko was relieved to agree. "You're nothing like my sister, either." 

"You have a sister?" 

"Yes. A year younger than me. She’s insane.” They were alike in some ways, though. Zuko could see the same kind of single-minded determination. Both strong-willed and bossy but in totally different ways. Zuko always had his guard up around his sister. Katara was the opposite. 

When they were back at their inn, both of them were tired enough to make the evening quiet. Katara washed her hands in the little basin with a flourish of waterbending. Zuko did the same, scrubbing until the cool water was lukewarm. They had two identical thin and lumpy mattresses, barely wide enough to lie on his back in. The sheets were relatively clean and vermin-free, so Zuko got as comfortable as he could. His feet were glad to be out of his boots. He pulled the thin blanket over himself, and wiggled his toes under the blankets. 

“This is nice,” Katara said from her bed. 

“It’s alright.” 

“No, I mean thank you. For paying.” 

“Oh. Of course.” Zuko was abruptly too conscious of her dim shape across the room, wavering in the candlelight. With a gesture, Zuko snuffed the candle and stared at the ceiling while his eyes adjusted.

This would look bad. If anyone found out the two of them had shared a room without a chaperone, conclusions would be drawn about what had happened. It would be a scandal. The ladies at court would never stop talking about it. 

Anyone from home. Nobody else around here would care very much. That kind of thing probably happened here all the time. Which was fine. But he wasn’t able to fall asleep very quickly, either. 

All Zuko wanted to do the next day was sit at the docks waiting for Uncle Iroh and his ship to arrive, but Katara’s suggestion to bend first thing wasn’t a bad idea. They should probably stay sharp. So, after breakfast but before they went to the waterfront, they found a secluded spot to get some practice in. 

Katara practiced pulling larger sections of the river under her control, freezing and melting it to test her control. Nearby, Zuko ran through a few of his forms. He had to admit he had was thinking of Aang’s mishap. Of Jeong Jeong’s words. Firebending was more dangerous than other forms, but only because fire was alive just like he was. It was a manifestation of the life in him, his chi, and it wasn’t perfectly behaved but he couldn’t make himself think it was only destructive. It was discipline and strength and protection. 

“What does it feel like to create an element?” 

Startled, Zuko turned to find her looking at him. Or more accurately, watching him with her weight settled on her feet. She’d been there for a moment. “I don’t know,” he said. 

“Water has weight when I grasp it. When I-“ She demonstrated with one hand, a bubble rising out of the river and splashing back down. “-pick it up. What does fire feel like?” 

Zuko straightened up from the stance he’d been in. To think it over he did the same she did, conjured a flame in his hand to feel it. It was light. Not one thing, but not many things either. “It’s like… dragon’s breath candy,” he said at last. “Have you had that?” She shook her head. No, of course not. Firebenders would make hot sugar into beautiful thin puffs at festivals, right there in front of him. They wouldn’t have that where she grew up.  He tried to find another metaphor. “It’s like a cloud. In my hands but I can’t hold it. And it kind of has a mind of its own. That’s why I…” 

“What?” she asked after a moment. 

That was why he sought out Master Piandao, and learned how to fight another way. But saying that would open the door to that topic, and Katara might ask questions he didn’t want to answer. Like if other heirs to the throne did that - they didn’t - and if his father approved - he didn’t - or anything else like that. So he tried to think of something else he could say. “Jeong Jeong had a point. It’s dangerous if you aren’t careful.” 

Katara nodded solemnly. “Aang isn’t very careful.” 

“He’s too young to be careful,” Zuko agreed. He hadn’t been that young for far too long. Years. Since he learned there were fates worse than death. 

Uncle’s ship arrived in the late afternoon, when the sky was starting to shift colors as the sun dropped lower and lower. Zuko and Katara had found a vantage point on top of a warehouse nearby, and watched the ship navigate in to dock. From this distance, it was hard to make out any individual figures on deck. Still, Zuko knew his uncle when he saw him. 

“I see him.” Zuko scrambled to his feet. 

Katara followed quickly, ready to move. “Wait. Will anyone on your ship turn you in?” 

“No. I saved their lives.” But Zhao could have spies. “We should be careful, though. Uncle will come find tea first thing. We can meet him there.” 

Just like the day before, when there was a mission at hand Katara and Zuko started working in sync. One of them was always watching behind them, the other one in front. When threading through the open market area, Zuko fell in behind Katara to get through a tight squeeze. When he noticed Fire Nation soldiers behind them, Zuko guided her into the space between a couple stalls to hide for a second. 

“I don’t recognize them,” he said by way of explanation. 

“Do you think the crew changed?” 

“I don’t know. How many days has it been?” 

She counted mentally with a frown on her face. “Maybe fifteen?” 

It didn’t seem like enough time for Zhao to take over his ship, but there was no way to be certain. Zhao moved fast when he wanted to. 

Once the soldiers passed, they made their way into the little shop Zuko had pinpointed as Uncle Iroh’s destination. It was a dusty little hole in the wall, Uncle’s favorite kind of place. He and Katara browsed the shelves absently as they waited. 

“Does he know who I am?” Katara asked in hushed tones. “Will he attack me?” 

“No, he won’t. He’s wise. He’ll know.” 

“Know what?” 

Zuko hadn’t finished the sentence because he didn’t know. Anything, honestly. And Uncle would be able to tell him all of it. That was exactly the point of this plan. The only thing was, he wasn’t thinking Katara would be with him for this part. Then again, he hadn’t done anything to stop her from being here either. Where else could she be, though? They were on this mission together. 

The shop door opened with a creak, and the sound of conversation in the street got loud and then faded out again. Two seconds of silence later, there was a deep breath in and a peaceful exhale. “Smells like good tea,” Uncle Iroh began to say, and was cut off by Zuko nearly tackling him. He didn’t mean to do that, but that was just what his body did when he heard Uncle’s voice. 

“I knew you’d come,” Zuko said into his uncle’s shoulder. 

“Zuko?” Uncle Iroh’s voice was choked up immediately. “You’re alive?” 

“I’m fine.” 

Uncle still squeezed him tight, the strength in his arms undeniable. He smelled like the ship, like river air and the hot sun. “How? What happened?” he asked, and pulled back to look Zuko in the eyes. “I heard the Avatar escaped.”

“He did. Oh, and.” In a rush, Zuko remembered Katara was standing a few feet away. He turned to include her in the conversation, and said to Uncle, “I’ve had some help.”

The introductions weren’t awkward. Katara and Uncle Iroh both had great manners, and it was too public to get into many details. Uncle inclined his head in her direction, and Katara bowed back. “I’ve heard so much about you,” Katara said earnestly. “How was your voyage?” 

“Restless,” Uncle said, and put a heavy hand on Zuko’s shoulder. “How was yours? Any other friends nearby?” This was said with a dramatic wink. 

“Nearby,” Zuko agreed. “How are the men?” 

“Much more relaxed. I have instituted karaoke night.” 

Of course he’d taken advantage of Zuko’s absence to do that immediately. Zuko had never been so glad to be irritated in his life. “Nobody likes karaoke, Uncle.” 

“Tell that to Lieutenant Jee. His rendition of the Girls from Ba Sing Se was a hit last week.” 

Zuko let out a grunt of frustration, but he couldn’t make his face mad. Because he wasn’t mad, actually. He was happy. There was probably a price on his head if anyone thought he could still be alive, and he was thinking about abandoning everything his family had built, but still. He was happy to be here. With Uncle in front of him and Katara at his side. Swords on his back. 

“Could you come back for tea?” Katara asked. “And right now, we could go somewhere to catch up.” 

Oh, right. Zuko was standing in the middle of a shop, and the shopkeeper had to be somewhere back there in earshot. They needed to really talk, and Uncle couldn’t stay away from the ship forever without raising suspicion. Earlier in the day, they’d even scoped out locations. In the moment, he couldn’t think of any of them. “Yes. Tea. We looked up places to go,” he said, and meant to remember one of the shop names while he spoke but he didn’t. 

Katara caught his look of panic. “Yes. There’s one just down the road. Shall we?” 

That got them moving, out onto the dusty street again. He trailed them down the road, listening to the pleasant conversation passing back and forth. Katara didn’t know much about tea. Uncle was enjoying telling her all about it. Again, Zuko took a conscious second and deep breath. Answers. He’d have them soon. He’d tell his uncle everything that had happened and be talked out of this insanity. And then. 

Actually, Zuko couldn’t finish that thought as easily as he hoped. First, Katara was here, and she’d hear any discussion of his double defection. He couldn’t picture that going well. Aang’s face when he learned Zuko had gone back - that, he could picture perfectly. Assuming that he’d even be able to get away from her. Zuko wasn’t entirely sure he’d be able to. Wasn’t sure that he’d want to, either. 

When he emerged from that reverie, Zuko found the three of them at a table with no clue in his mind how to get a second alone with uncle. Luckily Katara seemed to have that handled too. “I’ll get some tea for us,” she said. With a pleasant smile and aggressively blank face, Katara walked away. 

“She’s wily,” Uncle said approvingly, and nudged Zuko in the side. “Quite the heroic rescuer, Prince Zuko. Have you been spending a lot of time with that young lady?” 

Zuko frowned hard, and shot Uncle a glare. “We have actually important things to talk about.” 

“What’s more important than this?” 

“The Avatar has invited me to join him, in his mission to bring balance to the world,” Zuko answered. 

With a solemn nod, Uncle took a deep sip of tea and took his time with it. His hands anchored in the opposite sleeve again, and he centered his chi. “What did you say?” he inquired calmly. 

“I said I needed to think it over.” 

“So what have you decided?” 

“I don’t know! I thought you’d tell me. What do I do?”  

Uncle considered for a moment, and spoke slowly. “Look within yourself. What do you want to do?” 

That illuminated nothing. Zuko took a breath and tried to find anything like solid ground to steady himself against. He clenched his hands into fists at his side. “I want to go home.” 

"Home is an idea, not a place. If you're willing to turn over the Avatar, you can certainly return to the palace. But returning home will not be so easily done." 

Instinctively, Zuko had opened his mouth while Uncle was talking to object, but now that it was his turn he couldn't find words. He snapped his mouth shut again, and crossed his arms tightly. The palace was home, he wanted to say, but then he couldn't think of anything he missed. There weren't any people who cared about him besides Uncle. He'd taken everything important with him. What was the palace without those two factors? Just a collection of beautiful rooms, stuffed with luxury and totally empty. His bedroom had been many times the size of his quarters on his ship. Now that he was really thinking about it, he couldn't picture being comfortable there now. If he ever had. 

"But where would you go?" he asked Uncle Iroh. 

Uncle knew what he meant without him having to say it. With great care, he placed one hand on top of Zuko's and squeezed. "Don't concern yourself with one old man no one is watching. Disappearing is much easier for me than you." 

"So you'd come with us?"  

"Let's see what your new friends think of that idea," Uncle said. Zuko agreed to it just in time for Katara to make her way back with a teapot and cups. She was pouring tea for all of them when Zuko realized that answer from Uncle might've been a polite no. 

While Katara was around, Uncle kept the annoying comments to himself. That was one thing to be grateful for at least. He’d just gotten comfortable with Katara; he didn’t need Uncle making it weird all of a sudden, or reminding her that- 

“Oh,” Zuko said. Interrupting someone. “We need to return to the ship with you. I have something I owe her.” 

Even then, Uncle didn’t bring out a wink. “Then we should get you onboard while everyone’s enjoying their first hours of shore leave.” 

With hooded cloaks on, they followed Uncle down the pier. While the ship waited in the harbor, the engines got a break so there was no smoke belching into the air. No thin film of black raining down over everything. It smelled like salt and iron strongly - had it always been that strong? Or did he get used to it? 

“Quick,” Uncle said over his shoulder, and stepped onto the gangway. 

Katara stopped short, and Zuko noticed after a couple steps. He turned back to look at her. “What?” 

“Maybe I should stay on shore.” 

Another one of those moments where it sunk in just how different their lives had been until a few weeks ago. Why would she want to get on his ship? It probably felt like she’d never come back off. “Okay. If you want. It’ll just be a second.” 

As quickly as he could, Zuko climbed the rest of the way up and crossed the deck to the door inside. He was trying to move so quickly that he didn’t notice the second set of footsteps behind him until Katara caught the heavy door behind him before it could close. Confused, he risked a look back at her. “You’re coming?” 

Her face was determined. “It’ll just be a second,” she said back to him. 

There’d been some kind of test, Zuko decided. Something had changed her mind. And he wasn’t complaining - better to have her right here then run the risk of something happening. 

Uncle was around the corner and out of sight, but Zuko knew where he was going. He threaded through the tight corridors quickly. He could’ve done it with all the lanterns blown out. With his eyes closed. So much fire around, too. Zuko had never noticed it before when it was all he knew, but now he noticed just how many flames dotted the walls. He breathed the same air as them. They all breathed together. A network of life across the ship, and he felt so much bigger for all the bright spots he could sense. 

“Is the whole ship metal?” Katara was keeping pace behind him. 

“Yes.”

“Wood’s too flammable?” 

They rounded the final corner, and found Uncle in the doorway to Zuko’s room. “Wood is too valuable,” he said. “Metal is much easier to come by.” 

“Whoa, really?” 

Zuko was not interested in this conversation. He squeezed past Uncle into his room and hurried to the desk. If his memory was accurate, the necklace was in his desk drawer. Nothing on his desk looked touched. There was still a brush shut into his journal, marking the page he’d been reviewing the night he left. It hadn’t been that long, he supposed.

Time was of the essence. He pulled open the shallow desk drawer and surveyed the contents. There was Lu Ten’s knife, a collection of pens, a second copy of his notes on the Avatar, and next to both those things, a blue ribbon of fabric and carved pendant. 

“My mother’s necklace!” Katara picked it up before he noticed her next to him, which made Zuko’s cheek warm for some reason. Luckily, she didn’t care about anything besides her necklace. She hooked the clasp without looking, and put her hand over it. It sat where it always did against her throat, the pendant resting right in the middle. The carved bone looked bright against her tan skin. “Zuko.” 

Guiltily, his eyes jumped up to hers. “Yes?” 

“Thank you.” The sincerity she put into those two words made him suddenly self conscious. “This means so much to me.” 

Zuko gave her a brief nod and made himself say something back. It wasn’t good. “I’m glad it’s back where it belongs.” She seemed to like it anyways. At least, as far as he could tell. He immediately busied himself with putting together all the things he’d need the most - journal, carving Uncle got him at some little port, knife. It was time to move with haste. “Uncle, pack a bag. We’re going to reconvene with the others tonight and head north.” 

That suggestion was welcomed, so whatever Uncle wasn’t saying, it seemed he wanted to stay together. “My bag is packed. Plenty of tea, too.” He ran off. 

And now Zuko and Katara were alone in his bedroom. He felt his face flush again. “Just a couple more things, and we can go,” he said. 

“Okay. So this is your room?” 

“My quarters. Yes.” He crossed over to his bedside table and collected a couple more things, and a bag to put them in.

“Do you miss being here?” 

“No,” he answered, and then realized he’d answered too quick. She looked surprised. “I’ve only been here for a little while. So. This isn’t what I miss.” Like he’d just told Uncle. He wanted to go home. 

Katara seemed to know that, somehow. “I miss not knowing so much,” she said quietly. 

The room wasn’t big enough and she was too close because Zuko wanted to move away but couldn’t. He breathed in deeply through his nose, and every flame around him took a breath too. “Let’s wait for Uncle up on deck,” he said, and forced his legs to help him escape. 

Knowing too much was exactly the problem. Unless Uncle had something miraculous to suggest, Zuko couldn’t think of a way he could actually get anything he wanted. Home couldn’t happen unless he turned over Aang, and he couldn’t do that and sleep at night. Leaving wasn’t an option either, because that would be totally starting over. He already didn’t have much. He couldn’t lose any more. 

Team Avatar made that seem like no big deal. They’d all given up everything for this. Everything they owned could be carried on the back of an animal. That was not aspirational. 

It just felt that way. When they were all gathered around the campfire that night, with Uncle’s kettle nestled in the coals, this felt like real life. Like everything he’d done before that had just been rehearsal. His path to get here. 

Zuko spoke to Uncle in the morning. The two of them were up at sunrise, as usual, and even Aang wasn’t up for another hour or so. No words were needed. They rose quietly and moved away from the group, down near the river. 

“So. Today you leave for the north,” Uncle said. 

“That’s the plan.” 

Uncle gave him a look. “Zuko.” He moved closer, and put a hand on his Zuko’s shoulder. “You have a decision to make. I cannot make it for you. But I can help you see what you’ve already picked.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” 

“You had the chance to take the Avatar’s friend hostage and didn’t. I’m sure you’ve had opportunities to take the Avatar himself, with casualties. Now you’re speaking of joining him.” 

“So? Is that what I should’ve done?” Zuko threw his arms out. “Why does it feel like nothing is the right answer?” 

The warmth of the look that Uncle gave him wanted to be soothing, but Zuko was too worked up. “You are in a difficult situation. I don’t envy it, and I wish I could help. All I can do is tell you I will be at your side no matter which way you go.” 

“Father will never forgive me.” 

“No. But it’s up to you if that’s forgiveness you seek.” 

This was the absolute last thing Zuko wanted to think about, but he couldn’t delay this any more. They were leaving in a few hours. Uncle was waiting right now. More than anything right now, Zuko wished he’d never gotten to know Aang at all, so this decision would feel easier. But still, he had to choose. Between the father he’d been working to impress for years, and friends who’d trusted him after days. 

A phrase occurred to him, something from a long time ago. Azula always lies. She learned that somewhere. 

“If I’d brought the Avatar back, do you think things would really return to the way they were?” Zuko asked. 

Uncle cared for him too much to lie. 

It was sunrise. Zuko had not done a sun salutation for too long. He faced the sun, eyes averted, and began with the traditional bow. Uncle joined him, and they ran through the forms at an unhurried pace. Fire moved with them, from their hands and feet, and even came out through their breath, their own small contribution to the bright sky. The sun warmed them in return, because fire was never just one thing. It was one thing of many, feeding off each other in harmony.

There was some rustling behind them. Someone coming. From the footsteps, Zuko had a hunch who. Those were Katara’s steps, not as light as Aang or loud as Sokka. “Morning,” she said. 

“Hi,” Zuko said shortly back. He was focusing. Fire didn’t come as naturally to him as it did for others. The universe didn’t just hand him things, but he didn’t need that. He had to work for them, on the off chance he might get them. If the Avatar got tired of him, Zuko could fight for his place. He’d probably win. The Avatar would be easy enough to trick, if he wanted to. 

That should’ve been the sign. Zuko didn’t want to do that. He liked the kid, and liked how simple things were. They tried to do the right thing, at all costs. 

Then, Zuko saw that Katara had taken up a position next to him and was imitating his forms. Just like he’d done with hers. She punched spikes of ice out next to his fireball. Couldn’t jump like he did, but copied the downward chop of his leg and lay down a thick rope of water with a wet slap. Uncle was proud when he noticed, and had a lot to say about the way the elements should inform each other’s bending. It was nice, to show Uncle what he’d learned from Katara. To have something new to show off, and for Uncle to be so enthusiastic. Easier than Zuko was used to things feeling. 

Eventually, Uncle excused himself back to the campfire to make tea. The way he did it was so elegant that Zuko didn’t realize he wasn’t sure why he was staying until he already was, just standing next to Katara on the bank of a river. Not s smart place to be with an enemy waterbender. But Katara and him had been on the same side for days now. 

“So what did your uncle say?” she asked. Her hands were folded into each other. 

There was no use playing coy. “He said I needed to do what felt right.” 

Katara nodded. “And what is that?” 

“Nothing. I still feel like I should try to regain my honor, and please my father. But if Aang is everything he says he is-“ 

“He is,” she insisted. 

“I haven’t seen it. And I’m trying to say that if he is, then I could never turn him in.” The echo of Zuko’s voice back to him told him, he was loud by the end of that. He turned away sharply, his hands were clenched into tight fists. It made no sense to be angry right now but that was how he felt. Angry was the only way he knew how to feel. The rest were locked away somewhere. He tried to finish the thought. “So. I don’t want to take the risk until I know.” 

“And when you see Aang in the Avatar State, then what?” She wasn’t backing down. Her eyes were fiercely fastened on him, he could feel it peripherally. 

“If I do, then I’d have to help him. The balance of the world is important.”

“More important than your father?” Katara pushed. 

“Than anything.” 

That satisfied her, sort of. At least she stopped looking at him like she was trying to see the contents of his skull for now, but he still feared she saw too much.

“We’ll find something else to get you home,” she said at last. 

No, they wouldn’t. One of these days he’d have to figure out how to explain all that to them - how he’d spoken up when he shouldn’t and gotten banished and became a scary story for young recruits. Obey orders, or else. One day he’d figure out how to say all of that without getting so angry he’d set himself on fire. Or maybe Katara would ask about it. 

Okay. So maybe Uncle knew what he was talking about. This felt pretty good.