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Chapter Text

Had Zuko’s firebending been even infinitesimally slower he’d surely have died. Zuko was lucky to be alive, what else was new? He’d been close to death after the Agni Kai with his father, perhaps the spirits were collecting his debt. He’d gotten three extra years of humiliation only for the hope of going home to be dangled in front of him in the form of the Avatar and just as quickly yanked away.

            Azula was born lucky, you were lucky to be born.

            “No,” Zuko hissed to himself, no it couldn’t end here.

            He’d cheated death already, he’d beaten the infection that nearly took his eye, he’d do it again.

            He ignored the pain and swam forward amid the frigid waters of the Mo Ce Sea. He ignored the ringing in his ears, the heaviness of his limbs, the throbbing. He ignored it all and kept going. He wasn’t going to stop. He didn’t need luck; he didn’t want luck.

            Rise and fight, Prince Zuko.

            Struggling was what made him strong. It had made him who he was.

            Suffering will be your teacher.

            He raked a lungful of air as his arms parted the water, and he furiously kicked his legs.

            He would rise above these waves, he would fight. Fight for his honour, fight for his life, fight for his destiny.

Zuko gritted his teeth, slowly but surely the shore got closer, he began to make out the docks in his blurring vision.

            He just had to get a bit closer. Just a bit more.

            Zuko clawed himself onto the rocky shore, and onto his back, panting hard. And he dazedly gazed up at Tui’s light as he escaped her lover’s embrace. The bottom of his singed robes sloshed in the tide, but he’d managed it, his lips quirked up.

            Out of the water, his injuries seemed sharper, the drumbeat in his head and his heart raged. With every breath, his ribs seemed to ache more. But as he gasped for air, it had never felt sweeter. He breathed out plumes of fire to warm himself up from the frigid waters. The rocks dug into his back.

            But Zuko didn’t care. Damned pirates couldn’t kill him properly. He steamed on the rocks below the docks.

            As his eyes grew heavy, he fought for his consciousness. Because Zuko was a fighter above all else.

Zuko was pulled out of his daze by something floating by his leg, with great protest from his entire body, he managed to sit up. The horizon was littered with debris from his ship. He nearly laughed when he figured out what it was. The wood must have kept it floating.

            He fished it from the tides and shook off the water. Grinning back at him was his dark water spirit mask from Love Amongst the Dragons. Although to the Fire nation military it had more recently been known under the moniker of the Blue Spirit.

            It couldn’t have been a pair of shoes, he thought wryly or perhaps something other than his pajamas. Still, he was thankful, his mother had loved that play.

            He shifted on the beach as the second thing he was thankful for reminded him of its presence. Looped on the belt of his robe was the Earth Kingdom dagger his uncle had given him.

            Idiot! Stupid, stupid, stupid. If Zuko wasn’t fighting a migraine, he would have hit himself upside the head.

            Those pirates could have… if he hadn’t antagonized them…

            Zuko shook his head. He didn’t need to think like that.

            Then the thought struck him, those pirates, had they seriously followed Zuko north in time to know when he’d be alone? No that didn’t make any sense. Why wait so long for revenge?

            Could they have had a vendetta against his crew too? They were dumb if he were being honest, and amid the entire fire navy his men weren’teasy to pick out anyways. His men should be safe if he left them be.

            What now? Zhao was heading for the Northern WaterTribe with what seemed to be most of the Fire Nations Western fleet and Zuko was stuck, boatless, shoeless, and pretty done for in all honesty.

            Zuko bit his lip, looking at the naval ships posted at the docks.

            The Blue Spirit had broken into more secure places.

            Well, that would be when he’d been in better shape and with dual Dao that were likely at the bottom of the ocean now. Not in pajamas and barefoot either.

SCREECH!

He was yanked out of his thoughts when he saw the iguana parrot. Something wasn’t sitting right how had those pirates known where he’d be? The wood squeaked as several people walked on the docks above him.

            Zuko got to his feet with a wave of dizziness and a sharp pain to his ribs. He didn’t think they were broken. He watched the bird land on a familiar man.

            “Drinks on Admiral mutton chops, boys!” one of the pirates chuckled.

            Zhao?

             Zuko huffed. He must have made quite the sight. The ruined silk pajamas, several burns, one hand closed over a garish theatre mask, and the other around a dagger from the earth kingdom.

            With gently heating hands, Zuko dried his mask, scowling up at the docks. He slipped it on, eyeing the blade one of his attempted murderers had. He’d seen the pirate captain wield it against the avatar and his friends, his movements were like a theatre performance. Novices would see a master; master’s would see a novice. Zuko’s experience with Master Piandao made the man’s handle of the blade look like a child playing with something he ought not to. He barely needed his bending for such a miserable whelp.

That was under normal circumstances.

            Slowly, he stumbled on his feet as blood rushed to his head, knives dug into his temple.

            In his stomach, an age-old companion broiled. Anger. Puffs escaped through the holes in his mask. Under the stars, he ignored the ache in his bones and the craggy rocks digging into his feet. He made his way up towards the village, following the motley crew. Scurrying onto the rooftops so that they didn’t spot him.

            Zhao’s hulking figure held a small chest, it was recognizable even under the hooded cloak. “Is it done?” he asked.

            “Yes, the royal brat’s done, now as we agreed upon, our payment?” The captain held out his hands expectantly.

            Zuko narrowed his eyes. So, Zhao tried to have me killed? That look he’d had in Zuko’s cabin upon seeing his dual dao.

            What a dishonourable man, Zuko gritted his teeth. Fuck, he was such an idiot. He’d been so careful he hadn’t even used bending at the Pohai stronghold. Zhao had seriously tried to kill him based on nothing but a suspicion after seeing dual dao on his wall?

Uncle! That was another thing, his throat constricted had he not gone for a walk, he would have been on the ship too.

            Even though he’d almost died, Zuko’s mind was filled with the idea that they could have killed his uncle too. Zuko rubbed his temple. Guilt seized him. He would need to lie low, lest he invite another assassination attempt.

            The audacity, trying to kill a prince of the blood!

            Zhao asked Uncle to join him at the north pole so perhaps he didn’t have it in for the general. But Iroh had declined and stayed with Zuko but staying with Zuko had nearly killed him. A lump formed in his throat. If it hadn’t been for Zuko, his uncle would likely still be in the Fire Nation palace, if it hadn’t been for Zuko, he wouldn’t have been stuck on a rusty metal pile of junk on a wild hog-monkey chase. Hopefully without the association with Zuko, Zhao wouldn't bother him, and he'd be free to do whatever he wanted.

            No ship, no crew, no back up.

            The way he saw it, Zuko had a few options, sneak into the North Pole and capture the Avatar amid the fighting, or he could wait and break him out once he was captured. Zuko wasn’t an idiot as much as his sister would argue the opposite. He couldn’t fight an entire naval fleet himself. Especially if Zhao had it in for him.

            You can’t compete with me. I have hundreds of war ships under my command, and you? Zhao’s words echoed in his head, You’re just a banished prince. No home, no allies. Your own father doesn’t even want you.

            His stomach broiled with an old friend. Rage.

            Attacking a naval officer out in the open with his entire fleet would be foolhardy. Especially now that Zuko knew he would use such underhanded tactics.

            No, Zuko needed to wait. He needed uncle. But he’d led his uncle to ruin so many times and nearly to his death. With Zuko gone, he would be able to go back home the only thing keeping him was some misplaced duty towards a royal failure. His impulsivity after Zhao had captured the Avatar was what led him here.

            If the admiral wanted his death. Zuko would haunt him as a spirit. One stowaway among hundreds of warships was certainly hard to spot.

            Zuko continued on the rooftops towards a bar. First things first, he wanted shoes. With so many people in the navy, a spare change of clothes wouldn’t be missed.

The naval security was almost laughably incompetent, Zhao’s quarters were as ostentatious as he expected of the man. It was filled with medals he’d earned, and odd paraphernalia from across the Earth Kingdom. Gold and jade were common sites. The vein man was minor nobility and from the looks of his cabin, he was overcompensating. He’d hoped to find something incriminating aboard the ship, but his searching hadn’t brought anything up. Zhao was an idiot but, he was an idiot that covered his tracks.

            Zuko shook his head and changed course. If he intended to stay off the radar, he’d need to either find his old ship’s medic and swear him to secrecy…which was like looking for a needle in a haystack among all these ships, or he could simply get some gold and pay someone to patch him up. He had some time before the fleet left after all.

            This far north and into the colonies, he wasn’t exactly recognizable, his last official portrait had been before he’d been banished, he would be a scarless thirteen-year-old in the eyes of most of the fire nation. Without his royal armour, he wasn’t even sure if the average officer would recognize him, but he didn’t want to risk it.

            Well Zhao had spared an entire chest worth of gold for his assassination attempt, he could give some to Zuko. He was owed it.

            The ships finances were kept in the bookkeeper’s office. Zuko was unsure what the gold used to pay the pirates would have been listed as but if he rewrote some numbers on the ledger to skim some gold off, people would be none the wiser.

            As he’d spent the past three years on a ship, albeit one much smaller, Zuko was familiar with the general layout of the fire navy’s vessels. The bookkeeper would work outside of the same area as the helmsman.

            Once outside Zhao’s quarters Zuko adopted the baring of a simple sentry. With his faceplate down, those he walked past were none the wiser. This late in the night, there weren’t many people on guard on the ships, but on one this large, one more wouldn’t be noticed.

            The bookkeeper’s office was locked, but Zuko was prepared. During his avatar hunt, Zuko often pilfered some of the intel other command centres would get, so he had practice opening closed doors. Picking the lock was child’s play.

            After, Zuko detoured towards the armoury. It took a few minutes to find a pair of dual broadswords. He wanted to groan; their balance was terrible. Not crafted with the help of the best swordsmith in the Fire Nation, but they’d have to do. He’d need to fix them up a bit with his bending and a whetstone, but that was for later. He slipped them back into their scabbard and onto his back.

            A light came from around the corner, but he was gone before anyone could spot him.

            His pockets slightly heavier, Zuko made his way back off the ship and into town.

The town’s doctor wasn’t that hard to find, the symbol for medic was plastered on the sign. Zuko had dispelled his armour around the backside of the building before he was about to knock on the door.

            Then he hesitated. Sure, his face wasn’t recognizable, but without the helmet, his hair would be visible. Even in the colonies people would recognize that he’d been shorn in disgrace, the only hair left to grow being where his topknot would be. He could braid it like an Earth Kingdom queue, but too much of it was shaved.

            Dead men didn’t exactly have honour. So, Zuko took out the knife strapped to his side. It was singed from the blast anyways, he reassured himself, hair grows back.

            Zhao’s words cemented his resolve, if your father really wanted you home, he would have let you return by now, Avatar or no Avatar. But in his eyes, you are a failure and a disgrace.

            He didn’t have honour just yet, but he’d regain it.

Chapter Text

The standard uniform for Fire Nation naval officers was terrible. The face guard he constantly had on to hide his identity alone was the most annoying bit of metal in existence. Zuko never new he’d miss the sea breeze on his face, after spending so much time on his boat, but here he was lamenting the loss of unimpaired fresh air.

             With some food he’d snuck from the ship’s kitchen, Zuko removed the helmet and set it on the ground of the cargo hold next to him. There were plenty of places to hide on the fleet’s flagship. Already light on his feet from a childhood spent trying to not disturb his father who angered at the slightest error, Zuko was adept at sneaking around, finding those hiding spots, and using each nook or cranny to his advantage.

             He ran a hand through his now shorn hair, it had grown a bit since they’d left port. He felt the loss of the long part viscerally. But he’d deserved it, for almost leading his uncle to a watery grave based on the slim hope he could steal the Avatar from Zhao. For thinking he could betray his nation’s best interests for such selfish gains.

             He was intending to do the same thing again. It wasn’t like he had anything else left to lose.

             He ate his food quickly, and then slipped back outside. The ship’s crew remained none the wiser, after all in a force so large, one more man was hardly out of place.

An upside to the Admiral’s flagship was that Zuko was able to look through the correspondence of the entire western fleet and any plans Zhao had for the invasion force. Any information he could get would be a leg up. He read them all.

              He brandished his dagger and managed to pry any seals open. He had gotten some practice intercepting messages in the slim hope it would lead him to the Avatar. A controlled use of firebending would allow him to close the message again, leaving the admiral none the wiser.

              Late into the night so as to not be disturbed, he hunkered down for some light reading. He combed through letter after letter.

              The capture of Omashu, and appointment of Mai’s father as Governor.

              The formal announcement of Zuko’s death.

              Reports on flooding in Gaipan thanks to terrorist activity.

              Another from an irate colonel Shinu after Zuko’s brief stint at Pohai, telling Zhao in no uncertain words that his request to use the Yuyan archers again had been declined as their services were required elsewhere by another general.

              Zuko noticed the man’s complete dressing down of his superior officer in between the lines. How Zhao had erred in summoning most of the fortress to listen to him.

              Huh, so that was why it had been so easy to sneak in.

My compliments on the speech, it was certainly moving. Although I no longer outrank you, I offer you some advice from someone older. Before making such speeches again, perhaps wait until victory is secured as it can most certainly be taken away. I wouldn’t want to see your next one cut short again.

             He scoffed, asking Zhao not to gloat was like asking a fish to start walking. It would never happen.

             He continued to the next one. An account by war minister Qin of a massacre at the Northern air temple and a warning that several schematics of recent fire nation design had been compromised. Including the drill intended for Ba Sing Se and the tundra tanks housed by the naval fleet. There was a possibility of the balancing mechanism being turned against them by waterbenders in the know. The report ended by saying that hope was not lost, and he was working on the possibility of a flying contraption.

              Zuko was tempted to pocket the detailed blueprints for something called a war balloon before he ultimately re-rolled the letter and put its ribbon back on.

              He turned to the rest of the pile. Free of the top few scrolls Zuko saw a black ribbon peaking out. When he fished it out, the sight of the royal insignia stopped him dead in his tracks.

             Carefully, he slipped the message out of it’s cannister, spotted the broken red wax of his father’s seal and unfurled it.

             Despite receiving reports from Zuko on his quest for the Avatar, his father never wrote to him. Zuko scowled at the idea that someone like Zhao got to correspond with the Firelord.

              With each successive line, his singular eyebrow climbed. The tactic his father was authorizing seemed… It didn’t seem possible. He re-read the parts that had taken his breath away.

              If you believe our best path to victory would be to kill the Moon Spirit, so be it.

              Kill the Moon spirit, how was that even possible? To meddle with the spirits was foolish. Especially one responsible for the tides, one who was the faithful companion of the ocean. For a ruler of a nation comprised of islands, this was insanity. Zuko shook his head, his father was wise. Perhaps he’d chosen this course of action because he believed it would spare the most lives.

              Still, if Zuko had picked up anything living with his uncle for the past three years, it was reverence for the spirits. He’d certainly read a lot about them in his hunt for the Avatar, the fanciful tales had been devoured voraciously. In days past, a minor spirit could have brought entire clans to ruin.

              In the start of his quest, Zuko had disregarded the fables as simple ramblings of uncivilized peasants and those in the past who hadn’t known how to describe the simplest scientific phenomena. The Saowon’s blight of the phoenix eels, and the kemurikage were the thing of nightmares and just that. The blood witch of the eastern isles was the story you told children to make sure they didn’t stay outside too late. A few spirit encounters after he’d followed leads for the Avatar had proved him wrong. Somewhere along the way, his Uncle’s superstition had rubbed off on him. He’d certainly be made fun of if he ever returned to court, but Zuko didn’t care.

He turned around the letter to the next page.

              As for my son, I trust you in your assertion that he was responsible for the Avatar escaping custody. I’m sure you know the punishment for treason is death, see to it that no one finds out about his disgrace.

              The letter fell from his hands.

              Father…father had… His face felt flush. Blood roared through his ears. Zuko stumbled on his feet. How could this be? His father would never…would he?

             Azula’s teasing voice sang in his head, Dad’s going to kill you.

             He thought his father would never betray him like that, he at least would have thought he’d be given a chance to explain himself, except the permanent brand on his face begged to differ.

             He recalled his uncle’s words from when he’d gotten past the blockade to get to Roku’s temple, my brother is not the understanding type!

             His father had cast him aside, just like the forty first division had been three years ago.

             Zuko shoved his head into his hands pulling at his hair, there had to be some way to fix all of this. Maybe, maybe, when he returned with the Avatar?

             He was already in the middle of a naval fleet he couldn’t back out now.

***

Prince Zuko may Agni guide his flame had been assassinated by earth kingdom pirates. That was the official story.

              Iroh had scoured the harbour for days to no avail. In another timeline, he would have found his nephew, passed out on shore. Then he would help the young prince stow away on Zhao’s ships. This was not that timeline. Instead, after an exhaustive search, he returned to the Fire Nation to give his brother the news of his son’s passing.

             The burial shroud they’d burned was empty, such an undignified death to be lost to the ocean. The slight against the royal family would not stand, it was an insult of the highest order. Not long after the ashes were gathered at the family shrine were their murmurings of how they should make the dirt eating ingrates pay.

             Ozai wore white for a son he’d finally be rid of. Iroh wore white for the young man he’d loved as a second son. And much like after the death of his son, he decided to take his leave and travel. Azula wore white for a brother she hadn’t seen in three years. The Fire Nation wore white for a life snuffed out too soon much like his cousin.

              In the middle of the ocean, Zuko had worn white for camouflage. With the last of the net bound tightly, he slipped on his Blue Spirit mask and into the boat, poised for a quick getaway.

              His plan had been to steal the Avatar from underneath Zhao’s nose. He’d spirited (no pun intended) into the city amidst the turtle seals with some level of difficulty.

Zuko’s plan pretty much imploded in on itself, literally.

             A resounding BOOM had rendered his infiltration of the city he’d been quite proud of inconsequential. He’d failed to get the Avatar before Zhao breached the outer wall, what else was new?

              The siege continued in earnest, and the only thing saving Zuko from being caught in the fray was some quick improvisation. He’d managed to hole himself up in what appeared to be one of the Northern Tribe’s storerooms to avoid an incoming patrol. The area had likely been evacuated in preparation for the attack. Zuko blew warm air into his hands and leaned against the wall, trying to reassess his situation.

             He should have found another way in that wouldn’t have made him leave his broadswords behind. They would have been helpful. But he wouldn’t have been able to swim with so much metal on his back.

             Chips of ice fell from the ceiling as the attack outside continued in earnest.

             Why Zhao thought it was smart to invade the Northern Tribe in the middle of the night on a full moon Zuko had know idea. It was…well, in all honesty, it was the same level of foolishness it would take to agree to assassinate a crown prince (even if it was possibly carried out on his father’s orders), and to murder a spirit.

             Zuko peaked outside the window once the sounds of the ongoing battle started to dampen. Just as he’d suspected, the fighting had moved to another street.

             Poking his head further out the window to ensure he hadn’t missed any stragglers, Zuko latched onto the sill and hauled himself up. It wasn’t far off the ground, but it gave him an idea. As a test, he lifted his other foot up, melting the ice a bit to make a foothold for himself so he didn’t slip. Next he held a clawed hand up against the structure and used his bending to make small grooves. They were slippery, but he made them snug and deep enough to make sure he wouldn’t fall. He propped himself off the ground using perfectly tailored hand and foot holds and he started his ascent.

             The building was smaller than some of its neighbours, but it was still a few stories tall. Once at the top, Zuko leaped to the next building, it’s roof considerably less flat. It was a focused bit of bending that ensured he didn’t fall over it’s edge. He managed to find a flat spot at the bottom of the dome staying flush with the icy structure. Another hop made sure he left it behind. The residents of the northern capital if they survived the siege would certainly not be a fan of Zuko rendering several odd holes in their prized architecture, but up here he had a better chance to spot the Avatar in the city and avoid any skirmishes happening.

             The cold nipped at his face, nevertheless he continued.

             From his higher vantage point, Zuko surveyed the ongoing battle. The Fire Nation navy was making a slow advance into Agna Qel’a. The spiked wheels of tanks dug into the ice, upturning the smooth walkways enough to ensure those behind didn’t slip

             The internal balancing mechanisms used water, kept from freezing by their engines. The folly of using a piece of machinery reliant on water had been understated in the letter he’d read from war minister Qin. The fine innovation of Fire Nation engineering was used as further ammunition by their opponents. Their wheels popped as they shuddered to a stop, and they were encased in ice that had once been the water inside of them.

             The men behind had been either similarly dispatched or flung into the canals. They desperately flailed in the polar waters, there was only one glaring problem, armour didn’t float.

             Zuko shook his head. Zhao had been warned of the exact possibility. How he’d been promoted to Admiral, he had no idea. He probably thought it wasn’t a problem because he had a trump card up his sleeve. The loss of life was inconsequential. Because soldiers didn’t matter, because people like the forty-first division didn’t matter.

             His hands stung from having to hold onto the ice this long, once he reached the next flat roof he set his fists ablaze to get rid of the pins and needles. Zuko turned away from the sight, capturing the Avatar would be his priority. Those men and women would be remembered for their sacrifice, Zuko would make sure of it.

             He turned away to look up at the next building, its roof was significantly higher. That’s when he spotted it, high above the fray was the avatar’s sky bison, he could just barely make out the blue of one of his Water Tribe companions on board. He traced the beast’s trajectory to a spot at the centre of the city. Close to the palace.

             So, he was fleeing? Avoiding the fight just like Zuko. That didn’t matter, Zuko would follow.

The guards posted outside the round door hadn’t been expecting Zuko. He’d approached from behind a pillar and before they could even think that the blue and white clad figure was an enemy, it was too late. They were disarmed and knocked out, not even able to sound the alarm, Zuko hadn’t even needed to use his bending.

              “So, I was wrong after all. I really thought you were the late Prince.” A familiar voice came from behind him, “Oh well, I suppose I should thank you for making my entrance easier.”

              Zuko swivelled his head around to find Zhao accompanied by a group of Fire Nation soldiers. Each was atop a hulking Komodo Rhino.

              So, the defective mode of transport was for the infantry, Zuko thought bitterly about the tundra tanks. But the Admiral gets only the best.

              “Step aside.” He smiled as he climbed down from his mount, “and I might be a bit more forgiving once I unmask you. I could give you a nice cell at the Boiling Rock rather than execution.”

              Zuko ignored his request. He burst through the door, dodging an incoming fireball, and stumbled into the grass. He rolled out of the way of another blast of fire.

             Under normal circumstances, the pleasant temperature and plants would have surprised him. Under normal circumstances, his fellow countrymen wouldn’t be trying to flay him alive.

             The Blue Spirit wasn’t supposed to be a bender, but Zuko supposed now that he wasn’t the prime suspect, he’d be a fool not to use his fire. Before he could deflect the next attack, a whip of water did it for him. He turned just in time to see the Avatar’s waterbending companion with a determined expression standing over a glowing boy. The other one held up his boomerang and had his other hand on the club strapped to his side.

             The third girl was one Zuko didn’t recognize. Her shiny white hair reflected the light of the full moon. She looked utterly terrified.

             “I don’t know who you are Masky, but I hope you can fight,” the boy said, not taking his eyes off of the Fire Nation Soldiers.

             For a brief moment, Zuko was confused, then he remembered, that he was both wearing a mask and wearing white. Not to mention, based on the fact Zhao and his men were attacking him, they didn’t have any reason to think he wasn’t on their side.

             Zhao paid the Avatar no mind. He simply signalled for the men to fan out and made his way to the pond.

             If Zuko was caught by these men, he was dead. He twisted and ducked out of their reach and made his way to the dozing Avatar. Too distracted by the ongoing battle, his companions hadn’t noticed that Zuko was not lending them a hand. He dragged the kid away from the fray and hulled him over his shoulder.

             How could he be sleeping at a time like this? No matter. He wouldn’t get a better distraction than now.

             Just as Zuko had nearly managed to get a hold of the rope he’d brought along to tie the kid up, the tattoos stopped glowing and round gray eyes fluttered open.

             “The koi fish!” the Avatar gasped.

             Then the boy noticed he was being carried. He blew out wind and shot into the air like a phoenix eel cresting above the waves. When he landed he blinked owlishly.

             “Zu− “

             Zuko clamped a hand over his mouth before he could finish.

             He pressed a finger to the lips of his mask. This brat was trying to get him executed! Maybe wearing the mask of a wanted criminal during a Fire Nation siege hadn’t been his brightest idea, but he was supposed to pretend to be dead, not actually die!             

             Okay great he was awake. Amazing! Zuko would need to figure out how to wrangle a kid that was like trying to get a greased pig chicken on the best of days.

             Wait, did the brat seriously just lick his hand? The little monk wriggled out of Zuko’s grasp once more.

             “Look, I really need to get back to− “

             He stopped in his tracks to see his three WaterTribe companions tied up and a small company of soldiers surrounding them. They were also now aware of Zuko’s little attempt to sneak off with the world spirit.

             “Monkey feathers,” the Avatar hissed.

             Zuko could think of a lot more colourful language to describe the situation they were in.

             His eyes darted between Zhao at the pond, to the soldiers, to Zuko, to his friends, and then back to Zhao. The man had a funny sack in his hand. So that was why the Avatar had woken up yelling about koi.

             A chill ran down Zuko’s back as the sky above them turned blood red. “I am, a legend now!” the man announced to no one in particular. He cackled into the empty air, “they will call me Zhao the conqueror, Zhao the Moon Slayer, Zhao the Invincible!”

             Here comes the monologue, Zuko groused inwardly.

             So, the moon had been a fish in a pond and this man was seriously gloating about killing a primordial spirit for the glory? Uncle would try and stop Zhao. Zuko was not Uncle, but he couldn’t bring himself to hold back the Avatar from trying to stop Zhao either. That little moment of hesitation was all the little monk needed to airbend away from Zuko to confront Zhao.

             “Uh, Masky?” Zuko followed the voice to see the trussed-up teenager not too far away squirming against his bonds. Next to him was the waterbender and the new girl in a similar state.

             “Thanks for making sure Aang was safe and all.” Zuko nearly slapped his own forehead, this guy was really something. That- that hadn’t been what Zuko was trying to do at all. He’d thought this guy was smart. The boy laughed hoarsely, “But now that he’s awake, I don’t suppose you could free us from these ropes, I’ve got a knife in my left boot.”

             He, he was seriously going to give Zuko the means to slit his throat too. Agni give him strength. Most of the soldiers under Zhao’s command had run to help their admiral. The sole person remaining held up a spear at Zuko.

             He chanced a glance at Zhao and the Airbender. They weren’t fighting, the kid was just talking. Why was he just talking? Why wasn't he airbending the fish out of the man's hands. 

             Zuko could untie them or leave them to Zhao’s mercy. If he’d already shown such callous disregard for his nation’s prince, what would he do to some Water Tribe teenagers? Sure, Zuko had come to blows with them several times, but could he seriously leave them to Zhao and his men?

             Shaking his head Zuko faced the soldier shakily holding the spear aloft. He looked scared and still had acne scars; he couldn’t have been much older than Zuko. He sighed at the nervous man before doing a quick leg swipe.

             A constant chant of, I can’t believe I’m doing this, ran through his mind as he grabbed the boy’s knife, and slashed through there restraints.

             “Thanks,” he rubbed at his wrists and experimentally rolled them, “you really− oh, oh no.” he trailed off.

             Zuko followed his line of sight in time to watch Zhao’s arm slash at the water, forming an arc of flame. He felt the same chilling sensation as earlier but on an entirely new level. The sky grew dark.

That was when things got weird.

             The Avatar stepped into the pond and stood up to his knees. His tattoos began to glow just like they had earlier, and he was swallowed by what had previously been a shallow pond.

             The water sloshed. As it rose, it too glowed like the child it had just swallowed. Then slowly it inched towards Zhao and the other Fire Nation occupants of the room, all except for Zuko. A tendril wrapped itself around Zhao’s ankle. He shot fire at it to break its hold and started to run.

             The water traveled through the oasis and into the ice surrounding them. More tendrils shot out and dragged any of the soldiers that had escaped its first attempt into the water of the oasis. Water that appeared to be unnervingly deeper than it had once been. Soldiers that included the one Zuko had just knocked down to free the Water Tribe captives.

             Zhao sprinted from the sanctuary towards the city. The glowing mass was in hot pursuit. Zuko ran after them. He didn’t know what was going on. The glow stretched into the city’s canals like it was a growing infection. It grew and grew as it began to take shape

             Zhao hadn’t had much of a head start but his legs were longer. As the water sloshed over the sidewalks, Zuko was the only one with advanced warning, he managed to jump onto an unoccupied window. He watched with a bated breath as several more soldiers were dragged into the water. From his makeshift perch he had a front row seat to see the glowing mass continue along, being bowed to by the waterbenders.

              In their kowtows the enemy waterbenders hardly noticed Zuko.

              He stared slack jawed at the place his subjects had once been. Fire Nation armour was a lot of things, but one thing it was not was buoyant.

             Zuko’s eyes followed the rising water. The fact that it had twice paid him no mind had to be the meddling of spirits. And the thing that soon towered over the city was most certainly a spirit. Zuko had blundered into a massacre, like some hapless child; he’d be the fool who mother’s would warn their children about who thought he was clever sneaking into a beast’s den.

             Zuko could barely keep up with the giant with the head of a koi. The tribesmen kowtowing definitely made sense now.

             Was- was this La?

             He stared in utter bafflement, A giant walking fish.

             What was Zhao going to stop monologuing next?

             At the centre of the colossus was a small figure, with familiar glowing tattoos. With one giant hand, it grabbed onto Zhao who’d made a valiant effort. He certainly wasn’t going to gloat ever again.

             The irony of Zhao drowning not a month after trying to condemn Zuko to the same fate was not lost on him. He couldn’t find it in himself to laugh. No Zuko remained silent and watched as catastrophe struck.

***

How was he supposed to know the Avatar would turn into some giant glowing fish and kill nearly the entire fleet? The sight just outside the gates of the Northern Water Tribe’s capital city was of pure devastation. In Agni’s first rays, Zuko wondered if somewhere amid the wreckage were the crewmen he’d spent the past three years with. The small boat he’d used to get to the city’s entrance was still there. When he saw it, he laughed hoarsely. It appeared pristine, not a scratch on it. He supposed being so far from the rest of the Fire Nation’s ships had saved it from the same fate.

              He assessed everything he had, his stolen dao, the rope he’d intended to tie up the Avatar with, some food from the kitchens of the ship he’d stowed away on, a change of clothes from the quartermasters and finally the sack of coins.

             Zuko looked between the towering walls of the city, and the open sea, before making his decision and getting into the small boat. First he needed to get away from the enemy stronghold.

Chapter Text

The moon had returned to the sky, leaving no sign of what Zhao had attempted to do. Zuko had no idea how such a feat had been achieved. Waterbending had been restored, the northern capital saved, and the Fire Nation fleet sank or chased away.

      If there were any survivors, Zuko didn’t see them. If they’d manage to salvage a steamship, they’d be long gone.

              In the first few days Zuko passed the wreckage of the battle, the metal was every now and again interspersed with floating corpses bloated by their death at the hands of the ocean. Others were too frozen to even bloat, but they floated just the same.

              Not long after leaving the area near Agna Qel’a, Zuko used debris to make a makeshift raft. It had grown more and more apparent that the boat he was in wasn’t exactly seaworthy. He mostly used the remains of a WaterTribe craft. It was his best shot for getting across the Northern Sea. He was lucky to find an intact tarp from one of the western fleet’s emaciated cargo holds. He fashioned it into a sail with a lot of trial and error using the rope he’d intended to use to tie up the Avatar.

              It was ages before his sail was even passable. That didn’t matter, he wasn’t short on time being in the middle of the ocean.

              Zuko’s uncle had taught him the basics of sailing in case anything happened to their boat. Zuko had thought the old man was being paranoid. He blinked frustrated tears out of his eyes at the memory, he’d been so keen to get back to learning the next set of firebending. Uncle often taught him weird skills that Zuko would sooner yell at him for wasting his time rather than learn. Weird skills that were saving his life like knowing how to turn saltwater into drinking water with just his bending. Uncle Iroh’s absence was weighing on him heavily. He would have known what to do.

              Zuko was tired. And his everything hurt. And he’d failed to capture the Avatar once more. And he was surrounded by death. And his father might have just ordered his assassination. And− and he just wanted his Uncle.

              The Northen Sea continued on in what seemed like an endless stretch.

Every night he held a flame vigil. Briefly, he thanked La for having spared him twice. Three times if he counted the time his ship had blown up. He didn’t know how the Water Tribe customarily thanked their patron spirit, so he held a steady flame like he usually did when he greeted the sun.

              A week in on the raft, the food ran out. Despite having spent three years at sea, Zuko wasn’t much of a fisher. By then, he mostly laid on his back, looking at the sky, to conserve his energy. Then, fed up with his own malaise, rather than completely giving up on the raft, he got to work. He tore up one of his changes of clothes and attempted to make a net to hang off the side of his vessel. It wasn’t pretty, but it would serve him well. It would have worked better if he’d had some bait, but his lack of food was the reason he was trying to catch fish. He should have thought things through before eating.

              The sun beat down on him, offering him some solace among the frigid waters. On his back he parsed out the shapes the clouds made and imagined that he was looking at them with Lu Ten like they did before he’d died. They would compete for who was closest with their guess.

              By night, he used the stars to try to ensure he was still going south. He’d pretty much had them memorized after traveling on his Avatar hunt for so long. He’d spent so many afternoons scowling at them and naval charts that Zuko was fairly sure he could draw a detailed map of the earth Kingdom coastline in his sleep.

              The waters grew slightly warmer and the first fish he caught was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

              By the third week he’d gotten mildly better at using the net. He still wasn’t any good, but the growing number of fish as he made his way south made up for his lack of skill.

              Then finally, blessedly, there was land. Once he made landfall, Zuko wobbled on his feet and got used to solid land after nearly a month on open water.

The Northern sea fed into a port, the harbour was littered with earth Kingdom vessels, mostly fishing boats. They didn’t really have a formal navy but there were a number of military ships regardless. Trying to stick any earthbenders on a ship was the start of many jokes. There was a reason that the Fire Nation imprisoned earthbenders on steal platforms in the middle of water after all.

              Based on the fact that there was no Fire Nation presence and the looming mountains on the horizon, Zuko guessed he was in Chenbao province. To the west of the river would be the battlefront, and the colonies. The cold and proximity to the stiff peaks of the Taihua mountains had ensured the province was relatively unbothered by the Fire Nation. It’s only strategic value of the Zhang river was also shared with the provinces in the west.

              The harbour, although not as grand as Caldera’s was bustling with earth kingdom officers, the hired mercenaries that outnumbered them, and merchants going about their day while they haggled their prices. Many were seemingly unperturbed by the bite of the northern winds. The people here must have been used to it.

              What they weren’t used to were half starved sixteen-year-olds floating in on rafts. Especially not ones with golden eyes.

              As he wandered towards the port, Zuko tried to ignore the looks he was getting. He stuck out like a sore thumb. His close-cropped hair wasn’t exactly a common sight nor was the huge scar adorning half of his face. The twin swords strapped to his back didn’t seem to endear him to the locals either. And finally, the torn dirty white clothes that hung off him were a colour usually worn for funerals. “That scar,” and “war child” was whispered under several people’s breaths, but Zuko ignored it, and he breezed past them like some spectre among the living.

              A young mother dragged her gaping toddler away from him.

              Zuko rolled his eyes and continued on his way. He fixed the position of the bag over his shoulder, eyeing the shifty figures he walked past. They probably saw him as an easy mark all things considered.

The people of the town appeared to mostly wear browns, the usual green and yellow dye of the Earth Kingdom had lately been a luxury mostly afforded to the army and nobility this far away from the continent’s great cities.

              Although the area seemed untouched by the war, it undoubtedly was affected. Many of the merchants’ stock was laughably small. It was a widespread practice for the Earth Kingdom army to salt the land when they were retreating from the Fire Nation. That rendered whatever farmland was nearby useless until they could get the benders skilled enough to undo it from one of the older colonies. The ensuing famine in places close to the front was merely an unfortunate consequence.

              He glanced at the prices listed at the stalls, the markups were ridiculous. Zuko ran the numbers through his head, he didn’t have much of the money he’d stolen from Zhao left. He needed something to eat.

              He also required a new change of clothes, preferably not red like the stolen underlayers of a Fire Nation soldier’s uniform. This far into the earth Kingdom that red was likely a death sentence. Zuko grimaced, he wanted a second pair of clothes in black, but any material dyed that colour would be absurdly pricy.

              As a prince, money was only thought about when he was budgeting a ship. His biggest problem was figuring out how to use the stipend he got. Even though the money had been insultingly little for a boat that housed two prince’s, it was much more than Zuko had hope of getting in the Earth Kingdom unless he robbed a tax collector.

              No ship meant no stipend from the homeland. And it wasn’t like he could get a messenger hawk and ask his father for money; he was supposed to be dead. His father who had…. who had...

              Whatever, Zuko didn’t even have his seal to confirm his identity.

              Well at least now that Zhao was dead, he wouldn’t need to lay as low as before. As far as he knew he and father were the only ones who knew about the Blue Spirit.

              The best choice of destination with proper resources under Fire Nation control would be Gaipan. Since it was located at the nexus of three rivers, they’d get plenty of news passing through. Zuko would be able to search through their information depot for any sightings of the Avatar.

              His other options weren’t as promising, Zuko couldn’t exactly walk all the way to Yu Dao, there were mountains blocking him. Many newer colonies were ill supplied. He certainly couldn’t risk strolling into the active warzone that stretched all the way from Zigan to the Hu Xin provinces. Especially when he didn’t even have his armour anymore. Han Tui like Yu Dao was also too far, and the Avatar wasn’t going to go anywhere near Pohai again.

              No, he’d need to travel south along the Earth Kingdom side of the river first, then cross over. At least this close to the river, he wouldn’t need to make the entire journey on foot.

              Once he figured out where the kid was, he’d continue his hunt. This time alone.

***

“Spirits! Young man what happened to you?” the woman exclaimed when he entered the clothing shop, “you look like you picked a fight with a Komodo Rhino and lost.”

              Zuko grunted, eyeing the racks of clothes. He saw very few options; the cloth made him itch just looking at it. Still, he wouldn’t be fussy, he’d at least look like a local. He needed to make sure his choice was a good one. He checked the size of the stiches and sturdiness of the fabric.

              “How much?” were the first words that came out of his mouth. His parched lips cracked, and he didn’t attempt a smile or anything else to endear him to the woman.

              As he riffled through the clothing the seamstress’s jaw twitched, “Are you sure that’s what you want? Perhaps, I could direct you to something within your price range.”

              Zuko ignored her, simply unfurled his pack, and grabbed his sack of coins. The woman simply clamped her mouth shut in response.

***

Azula’s boots clanked on the metal of the ship. It was in water’s like these where her brother met his end.

              The idiot got assassinated and that welp Zhao had gotten himself killed at the north pole along with most of their western fleet. Leaving her to pick up their messes and capture the Avatar. Unlike Zuko she could actually come home, but on this ship, and being sent away on the same quest her brother had lost his life while pursuing, it wasn’t exactly comforting.

              You had to go off and get yourself killed, Dumb-dumb.

              She wondered what he would have looked like when he died. With a sharp inhale she shook her head and began to circle her arms. Then she exhaled and channeled the lightening.

              “Almost perfect,” Lo said.

              “One hair out of place,” Li added.

              “Almost isn’t good enough.” Azula’s eyes crossed, glaring at the stray hair that had dared to fall into her vision.

              Zuko had almost captured the Avatar. Almost meant she was wanting, and Azula didn’t mess up. Almost was for people who got burned banished and died. She fell back into her beginning stance and began the lightning kata once more.

Iroh sat across from her and took another sip of his tea. His royal tea loving kookiness had been at the next port relaxing at a spa. If a fat man could be gaunt, Iroh was. What he’d been doing for the past month, she had no idea.

              “Azula,” he greeted her with a jovial smile, “I see the travel bug bit you as well.”

              Azula examined her nails refusing to even drink the offered tea. A pai sho board stretched across the table.

              “Hello Uncle,” she responded dryly, “I see that retirement agrees with you.”

              “Why thank you.” Her uncle’s eyes twinkled. He appeared quite at home in the gaudy onsen. The lotus motif was tacky to say the least. He gestured at the board in between them, his robes the very colour of pink Ty Lee would fawn over. “Would you care for a game of Pai Sho while you’re here?”

              Azula maintained her impassive expression. “No, I don’t think I will.”

              Growing up, people had always spoken about the great Dragon of the West with the utmost reverence. Azula could honestly not understand how uncle fatso was the war hero that had conquered his way through the Earth Kingdom. It didn’t matter, Uncle hadn’t been him for a long time, not since his son died.

              He was also the man who had spent the past three years with her brother, all while she’d been back at the palace with their father.

              Had Azula known he’d be taking leave in this colony; she would have steered clear. With the two hags already aboard her ship, Azula didn’t need another old person to annoy her.

              “So, to what do I owe this pleasure?” Her uncle finished off his cup of tea and poured another for himself. “A word of advice, Ginseng is not as good once reheated.”

              She relented and grabbed her cup. The royal family was known for their stubbornness. And even if he appeared to be a declawed dragon, Azula knew her uncle was anything but.

              Uncle had been the last person to see him before he’d died. And here he was galivanting across the colonies. And here I am, she thought bitterly, finding him at her side during her Avatar hunt in a strange facsimile of her brother’s life.

              Well, she could use this turn of events to her advantage.

              “I understand you’ve run into the Avatar on quite a few occasions with Zuko.”

              His face dimmed at the mention of her brother. “Yes, I have.”

              “Is there anything regarding him you could tell me about?” Azula quirked an eyebrow. “You’re probably the person who’s seen him the most.”

              Her uncle stroked his beard in the way old men often did when they wanted to gain some gravitas. “He’s young, based on his tattoos, already a master. He likes to evade mostly, a surprisingly good sense of humour too from what I’ve seen.”

              “How old?”

              “Older than ten, if I were to guess, he’s around twelve.”

              “A wonder, he’s managed to evade you for so long,” she remarked.

              “Mmmm, not really, he’s got a flying bison,” her Uncle said, “Although, Zuko once said they shed in the spring so now he may be just as much a hindrance as a quick getaway. He did so much research on that boat,” he trailed off.

              “I find it odd you don’t seek to continue my brother’s hunt.”

              “Oh, I’m sure with you, the pursuit is in good hands, my niece. Although, if you wish me to accompany you I would be happy to oblige.”

              Uncle had an odd look in his eyes when he offered. It was no surprise that her failure of a brother did not capture the world spirit. But odd that the famed general hadn’t captured him when someone like Zhao had succeeded even momentarily.

               “No,” Azula’s answer was curt, “you should enjoy your retirement.”

              Odd indeed.

***

Zuko bought some food and passage down river with the last of his money and the promise to do some work on the merchant ship. He hadn’t known much about sailing since he was used to a metal ship, but Zuko was once again thankful for his Uncle teaching him some of the basics. They needed the extra pair of hands, and the few knots he knew would hopefully be enough.

              The trip would only get him halfway to Gaipan, but he’d figure out the rest. As he boarded the boat, Zuko got his fair share of looks. Some of them were pitying, while other’s looked right past his scar and at his golden eyes with utter contempt. They probably assumed he was some bastard son of a soldier that had taken far too many liberties unbefitting his post. Zuko paid it no mind, he simply lowered the brim of his hat and continued with his business.

              He was mostly thankful the weather grew warmer the further they traveled. Once they reached their destination, Zuko assisted in unloading their cargo, receiving a few measly coppers for his troubles.

The small town where they’d dropped him off wasn’t much to look at. It was probably just a place people passed through on their way to bigger cities. Zuko planned to do the same.

              He let his wide brimmed hat fall around his neck and pushed back his sweaty locks. Though he hadn’t had much hair underneath the hat, it still got hot enough to make him sweat, even in the cool climate of the northern Earth Kingdom. The hat’s place along his back was only secured by a thin string. His hair had grown out even more, but thanks to starving out on that raft, it was rather thin. It wouldn’t be long enough to tie back for quite some time and it’s presence still felt alien along his scalp. At least the itchiness of new growth was gone.

              The last of the season’s snow was melting just in time for the beginning of spring. Soon he wouldn’t even need his bending to keep him warm. Zuko hadn’t noticed before, but it would be the anniversary of his banishment any day now. Three years ago, he’d lost it all. He wanted it back, he wanted the Avatar, his throne, his honour. He wanted−he wanted his father not to think he was useless, or think he was some kind of traitor who’d died a coward’s death at the hands of some measly pirates that blew him up rather than face him in battle.

              Zuko had made it partway into the village before a large hand grabbed onto his shoulder. “Hey kid,” came a rough voice. Zuko resisted the urge to grab the man’s arm to get it off him. “I haven’t seen you around before and it’s getting late, need some help getting home?”

              Zuko looked up to see a man dressed in an Earth Kingdom army uniform. He was smiling down at Zuko, but his eyes were a sickening green that held no kindness. His hair was tied back in a tight bun so severe Zuko thought it might be messing up his circulation. His beard was the complete opposite of his hair, he’d let it grow wild and loose, furling out at his collarbone. Amid all the stray whisker’s, Zuko could barely make out his lips.

              Once he’d gotten a good look at Zuko, his eyes narrowed, and his expression turned calculating. “Say, how old are you?” His hand tightened.

              “I don’t see why that’s any of your business,” Zuko responded curtly.

              “By order of his majesty King Kuei, all firstborn sons of the Earth Kingdom of sixteen years and over in this area are required to join his army.” He leaned closer. “I’m sure you wouldn’t mind getting revenge on whatever ashmaker gave you that scar.”

              Finally fed up, Zuko wriggled out of the man’s grasp. “There’s your problem, I don’t meet the criteria,” he growled.

              Zuko wasn’t of the Earth Kingdom.

              “I don’t suppose you have anything to prove that claim,” the soldier chuckled, “a coal kid like you, probably don’t even know your father.”

              Zuko backed away and unsheathed his swords. That was when he figured out that he’d messed up. The quick draw of his blades had drawn the attention of two other soldiers behind him. Their ostrich horses looked sufficiently spooked as they stamped their talons into the craggy cobblestone street.

              “Easy kid, nobody wants to hurt you.” One of the men said as he tried to wrangle his reins.

              His companion dismounted his own steed.

              Could have had me fooled, Zuko thought wryly.

              Based on their dress, two of them were benders. Zuko backed away and kept his swords raised. He cautiously eyed their stances, daring them to be the first to attack.

              “Hey, calm down, we wouldn’t want you to do anything you’d regret. You got any family nearby? We could take you to them.” That was accompanied by a shift in one of their stances.

              Zuko wanted to roll his eyes at their attempt to de-escalate and lull him into a false sense of security. The first army officer had already revealed their hand. They wanted to conscript him.

              He cursed while jumping to make sure his feet weren’t swallowed by the ground.

              A rock nearly clipped him in the shoulder before he was able to deflect it with one of his dao. His old pair would have been fine with the move, but the flimsy metal did not like being used against rock.

              He knew his next move was dishonourable, but any soldiers that decided to bully unaccompanied teens into joining the army probably deserved it. Zuko slid beneath one of the men’s legs breaking his root. He slashed at the second’s shins and rolled onto his feet, then he made a mad dash for the ostrich horses. With a smack to the occupied one’s behind, he sent it and its rider off into the town.

              Then, he quickly sheathed his dao, hopped onto the other bird, and with a kick, he coaxed it into running in the opposite direction.

              Pain erupted in his side as he was struck with a rock. He dodged out the way of the next with a tug of the animal’s reins. Zuko wasn’t well practiced at riding ostrich horses, so the maneuver almost sent him sprawling off. It was only pure chance that he’d been able to stay on. He cried out when his shoulder protested at the sharp tug to his joint.

              He let out a string of expletives he’d learned from the navy men. He knew that feeling, last time it had happened was when he’d caught his helmsman in the middle of the storm that had nearly made him fall to his death. That had been when it was dislocated, he seriously hoped it wasn’t.

              He yanked on the leather once more to continue out into the forest in haste. Once in the cover of trees, his pursuer’s aim was less true. Still, he didn’t let himself relax. Soon the canopy grew denser, blocking out the sun. Zuko continued, clumsily attempting to avoid the gnarled roots and uneven ground. The Ostrich horse huffed indignantly at the relentless push and at each jerk of her reins. But she was a well-trained bird, with agility she heeded Zuko’s every command.

              Amid the foliage, Zuko managed to lose his pursuers. When he’d deemed he was far enough away, he made sure to get off the saddle and lead the animal, erasing their tracks the best he could. Following the Avatar all that time made sure Zuko knew a thing or two about tracking. Rather than follow the river south, he’d taken a detour further east, which would leave anyone sent to look for him ignorant of his true destination.

It was hours before Zuko let himself rest. He tied the ostrich horse to a nearby tree and inspected its saddlebags.

              A packed lunch, feed for his new companion, a coin purse, a knife, a pair of spark rocks, a whetstone, some spare parchment, ink and writing tools. None of it was surprising.

              There was quite a few papers, he scrunched his nose and riffled through them. Most weren’t remarkably interesting. He coaxed to life a flame in his palm to stave off the waning light to read them. One was a request for troops to gather near Omashu to lend aid to King Bumi’s forces. That was old news, if the messages on Zhao’s ship were any indication, the city had already been captured. Another was a letter the man had probably received from a loved one. The next some basic orders. He resisted the urge to just set it on fire. It could give him some plausible deniability if Earth Kingdom soldiers found him again. He could pretend to be a messenger.

              He grabbed a treat out of the satchel and fed it to the ostrich horse.

              The animal snapped and gobbled it up in one bite.

              Zuko let himself sit down on the forest floor to inspect his blades. One encounter with a rock had rendered one of them practically ruined. He procured the whetstone from the saddlebag, he grimaced. He might as well scrap them, if they couldn’t hold their own against a few earthbenders they were worse than useless.

              He could trade them in to get some money and try to look for a better pair.

Then the she-beast tugged at the short tufts of Zuko’s hair and snorted, as if to say, what now, you idiot?

              Zuko swatted her away, she fell back gracefully before nipping at his hair again.

              Maybe he shouldn’t have stolen the bird, but he’d make use of it.

***

The boy on an ostrich horse hadn’t been expected. Song had been collecting medicinal herbs when she chanced upon him. He looked like he’d seen better days. There were dark circles around his closed eyes, it was even visible against the discoloured skin of his scar.

              “Oh,” Song stifled a gasp once she saw it.

             The old injury appeared all the more severe against his pale skin and hollowed cheekbones. He looked to be passed out and draped over his steed, the only thing keeping him up were his feet firmly planted in the stirrups and sheer stubbornness. As if to protest her original assumption, he lulled to the side, precariously hanging.

              Song saw the boy jerk awake, just before he managed to completely fall over the side. Well, she supposed she figured out how he hadn’t fallen off just yet. The boy’s back when as stiff as a plank before he winced.

              He startled when he spotted Song. His eyes drooped but he tried to look menacing the best he could.

              “Are you− “

              She didn’t get the chance to finish her sentence because the boy passed out.

Chapter Text

The figure that loomed over him flickered in and out. First it was simply a man, then a writhing blue mass.

              The water reached for him.

             “You will fight for your honour.”

              “I meant you no disrespect. I am your loyal son.”

              No matter how he struggled; the blue tendrils held him down. Apart from the new addition of the water trying to drown him, the exchange went as it normally did.

              Then, the figure kneeled and gently, ever so gently, a large hand cupped his cheek.

              Zuko braced himself and−

Zuko woke up in an unfamiliar bed. He tried to sit up and winced.

              “Careful, I only just treated your shoulder, and those ribs don’t look so good either. You’re lucky it was only separated rather than dislocated.”

              He breathed a sigh of relief as he followed the sound of the voice to find a woman with warm brown eyes that looked to be the same age as Uncle. The thin lines of her slim face were etched with worry. Zuko flinched as she ran a damp cloth over his forehead, the sleeves of her faded green dress slid up her forearm while she did so.

              With pursed lips she poured water from the pitcher into a cup and offered it to him, gently coaxing him into a seated position. His body protested. With muscle memory alone, he eagerly drank. It coated his dry throat and dribbled down his chin in his hasty gulps.

              Then he came to his senses and remembered that this woman was a complete stranger. He stopped drinking and wiped his mouth with his good arm.

He looked at his surroundings, he was in an infirmary of sorts. Another man was being nursed in a cot nearby not unlike his own.

              “Song,” she called over her shoulder, “he’s awake.”     

            A girl dressed much like the woman before him but in brown instead of green, appeared in the doorway holding onto a bowl.

Zuko recognized the hanbok with the wearer standing up. It was the same garb as the natives in the older colonies. Middlers, they’d once been called, more earth than fire. Entire families were separated by arbitrary borders some generals drew in a war room when their homelands had been invaded under the justification that they housed fire nation citizens. Zuko wondered how far back in her family tree the firebenders were. Something in her countenance reminded him a bit of Ty Lee. Her expression was more guarded though, like she’d seen the war and not just from afar.

              “Here,” she placed the bowl of food on the table next to Zuko, “it’s left-over roast duck.”

              “My daughter Song found you in the forest, your Ostrich horse is out in our stables back home,” the woman explained.

              Why help him? Why feed him? He was their enemy. Except, He glanced down, the shirt that had been parted to tie his arm into a sling was green. They didn’t know he was Fire Nation.

              His stomach gurgled at the sight of the food just a reach away. He relented, grabbed the bowl, and started eating. He hadn’t been poisoned by the water and if they hadn’t done anything to him while he was unconscious, there was no use being so weary.

              “I’m glad she found you when she did,” she continued, “it’s really not good to ride an ostrich horse with such injuries. You could have messed up your shoulder permanently. Not to mention you look like you could use a good meal.”

              “Thank-you,” Zuko grunted before continuing his meal.

              “I, um the new batch of ointment finally cooled down,” the girl said shyly, “where should I put it mom?”

              “With the rest but bring some out for this young man.”

              She nodded and returned a moment later.

              “I’ll leave him to you; I have to check on the other patients now that he’s awake.” The older woman sat up and dusted off her dress. She smiled down at Zuko before leaving.

              The girl sat down to replace her mother.

              “Here, this should help with any irritation the skin got from the cold and with your scar.” The girl gathered some cream in her hand and reached at Zuko’s face.

              Zuko flinched, dropping his bowl, with his good arm, he caught her wrist before she could make contact.

              “I can do it myself,” he told her icily.

              “Okay.”

              Zuko turned and gathered the green paste in his hand. It reminded him of the burn salve he’d had to put on several times a day at the start of his banishment. Nothing could make him forget that smell. He closed his eye and traced the familiar contours of the scar all the way up to his ear with the cream. The skin was rough and irritated. The dry air of the continent wasn’t doing him many favours. The scar had grown far too stiff. He’d had an ointment much like the one he was applying back on his ship.

              Before it had blown up.

              “I don’t have much money to pay a healer,” he said once he was done.

              “This clinic actually doesn’t require payment. As long as we treat soldiers when they come, the military keeps us running.”

              “Oh.” That was fortunate.

              “I’m Song, like my mom said. I don’t suppose you have a name,” she tried.

              “I’m uh…I’m Li,” he introduced himself, because Zuko was far too Fire Nation a name. He picked up the bowl he’d discarded in his lap and continued his meal.

              “So, you must have been travelling somewhere in a hurry, huh?”

              “Yes. I’m a traveller,” he choked on his food.

              “My mom and I travelled a lot before we managed to find a home here.” Song got a look in her eyes before she smiled again, “It was the war right?”

              Zuko nodded and let the girl make conclusions all on her own.

***

Song and her mother invited Zuko over once they were done in the clinic.

              “If you feel like you’d owe us, you could help around at the clinic. I would feel terrible letting you go off injured on your own. Please, rest a bit first,” Song’s mother explained, “You won’t be able to use that arm properly for at least two weeks anyways.”

              This woman was a fool if she thought Zuko would stay that entire time. But he couldn’t put up much protest as he was strongarmed to the small house. Besides, they’d taken his ostrich horse, he’d need to follow them home if he wanted to figure out where she was.

Later that night, over a humble meal, the two women tried to make conversation.

              “My daughter tells me you’re a refugee,” the woman said sympathetically, “We use to be ones ourselves.”

              “When I was a girl, the Fire Nation raided our farming village. All the men were taken away. That was the last time I saw my father,” Song explained.

              Father’s, Zuko thought as a pit formed in his stomach, “I haven’t seen my father in years.”

              “Oh, is he fighting in the War?” Song asked in a sombre tone.

              “Yeah.”

              In spite of his gold eyes, she didn’t ask about which side. He supposed that wasn’t surprising they were after all, Middlers.

***

Lately Sokka had been looking over his shoulder in case Prince Jerk face decided to make an appearance, but Sokka hadn’t seen him in months. It was weird, he’d been pursuing them so doggedly before. He couldn’t have just given up. Maybe he was just a navy person and stuck to the coastlines. But that didn’t really make sense, he’d definitely tried following them like his life depended on it.

              He wouldn’t be surprised if he popped out of the bushes with his stupid ponytail and stupid jerk bending.

              But, Sokka hadn’t seen him since that whole debacle with the nuns.

Weird.

              The General Fong guy, also weird. The way he looked at the kid gave Sokka the heebbie jeebbies. “Avatar Aang, we were all amazed at the stories of how you single handedly wiped out an entire Fire Navy Fleet at the North Pole. I can’t imagine what it feels like to wield such devastating power. It’s an awesome responsibility.”

              Fong stroked his admittedly manly beard.

              Aang gave a hoarse giggle, “I, uh try not to think about it much.”

              The man’s next words stunned the entire group, “Avatar, I believe you’re ready to face the Fire Lord.”

              “What? No, I’m not!” Aang disagreed.

              “Aang still needs to master the elements.” Katara argued.

              “Why? With the kind of power he possesses, power enough to destroy hundreds of battle ships in a matter of minutes, he could defeat the Fire Lord now! Especially after the blow that must have been dealt with the loss of his son. “Fong’s eyes gleamed as he smacked his fist into his upturned palm.

              Then his words caught up to Sokka. “Wait! What?”  he choked on his own spit.

              “Haven’t you heard? Prince Zuko’s been dead for a while now.”

              Aang protested, “No he’s not, I saw him at the North Pole.”

              “What!” Sokka’s eyes bugged out at the kid.

              “He was the one that untied you guys at the spirit oasis.”

              “What!” Sokka repeated.

              “How’d he die?” Katara voiced the question they were all avoiding to ask. Her voice was barely above a whisper.

              General Fong waved his hand, “His ship blew up, apparently. But that doesn’t matter.”            

              “Yes it does! He was right there.” Aang’s voice cracked, “I thought he might− “he started pacing the room.

              “It’s old news,” Fong said, ignoring the Avatar’s panic, “it happened a while back.”

              His complete nonchalance at the death was not helping matters.

              “Listen, Aang maybe it’s good he’s gone, he won’t be chasing us anymore, right?” Sokka tried to reassure him.

              It seemed to do the opposite. Aang’s pacing was gaining some momentum, air bending blowing about the General’s papers. “He was right there Sokka! He helped you and everything how could you say that?”

              “Uh, I find that hard to believe it was him under that mask, he’s usually more shouty. How do you know it was even him?” Sokka said.

              “Because I saw underneath it once.” Aang threw his hands up in the air.

              “When was that?”

              “It doesn’t matter.” Aang’s arms fell as his pacing slowed, “he’s dead isn’t he?”

After that, their time at Fong’s base did not go well. The guy was a maniac. When Sokka knocked him out with the butt of his blade he was pretty glad to be rid of him.

              Still, it was kind of crazy, after pursuing them for so long, Zuko was seriously gone.      

***

Zuko found himself staying a bit longer, much to his chagrin. There wasn’t much to do to help out at the clinic with a botched arm, but he made do. And his legs were killing him after all that riding. If he hadn’t had a saddle, Zuko was sure the entire insides of his legs would be ruined.

              Besides, he wasn’t sure when he’d next have a roof over his head. The two women were agreeable enough. Even if they treated him with kid’s gloves when he wasn’t looking. The older woman reminded him of his mother in the way she smiled; if she’d still been around, perhaps she’d have the same laugh lines on her face.

              His uncle had always been haranguing him to rest.

              Zuko was mostly prepping things for the healers, washing and hanging bandages didn’t require two hands. Other times he would go out to collect herbs with Song. He learned what each of them would do and filed the information in his head for later.

Song ran him through some exercises for his shoulder, showing him where to put it. It was odd, Zuko hadn’t interacted with a girl around his age for years. She talked enough for the both of them. She was fine enough to be around, he supposed.

              “When my mom and I first got here, it was hard. But we figured things out. We’re lucky, my mom was a midwife back home. She had some formal physician training. I’m still learning, but she says I’m already doing well.” She lifted her arm up in a windmilling motion and Zuko copied her with some level of difficulty.

              Zuko nodded along.

              “We’re a lot better off than the others. Are you planning on heading anywhere in particular?”

              “South,” Zuko managed.

              “Do you have family there?”

              “No.”

              They moved into a new position, hands greeting the sky. The movements of physical therapy were slow, but relaxing. He’d gone through them on his ship after he’d dislocated the same shoulder.

              “Be careful, I heard Omashu was captured, I’ve heard Gaoling has a lot of work, though and their commerce affords them some liberties.”

              “I’ll keep that in mind.”

              “It’s far, but you could always head for Ba Sing Se. Even the Dragon of the West couldn’t conquer it.”

              Zuko choked on his spit at the mention of his uncle and the city that had taken his cousin’s life.

              “Li, is something the matter?”

              “No,” Zuko bit out. He was still getting used to being called by that name.

              They fell into a familiar silence.

              He was Li. Prince Zuko was dead, and he was just a simple Earth Kingdom commoner with a scar over his face. That was what Father had wanted after all. Unless he captured the Avatar, he was better off dead. How could he show himself after betraying his country? After doing nothing to save all those people at the north pole? He could have stopped Zhao from trifling with the spirits, he knew that was what the man was after. If he’d been able to do that, maybe thousands of people would still be alive. He swallowed his discomfort and continued with the next stretch.

              If he closed his eyes, he could imagine the monster the Avatar had transformed into a little over a month ago. The unnatural glow of the water, the terror he’d felt when he thought he’d be next.

              Avenging the deaths of his kin one hundred years later.

              The Western Air Temple housed so many bodies. The North Pole was simply an overdue debt.   The children’s bones should have been expected. Huddled together, in a corner behind someone who was likely trying to protect them. 

              When he’d scoured the temples in his first year of banishment, His uncle had tried to cheer him up by looking at the views once they’d collected the bones and scattered their ashes.

              He always responded by saying something along the lines of; ‘the only view I’m interested in is seeing the Avatar in chains.’

              He’d been so stupid back then. Zuko wished he’d savoured those moments with the man now that he didn’t know when they’d see each other again. They’d always had their familiar song and dance. Uncle trying to get him to cheer up, participate in music night, have some moments of levity, get some rest. Because ‘a man always needs his rest, prince Zuko.’ Zuko rebuking him at every chance he got.

              Funny, that he was only resting now that his uncle could not see him.

              He wondered what the famed dragon was doing now that he was no longer bogged down by Zuko.

              Probably drinking tea and playing pai sho, like always.

              A small smirk crept onto his face remembering Uncle’s usual antics. Now that he wasn’t in the middle of it, it really was funny that the white lotus piece had been in his pocket the whole time.

              “Huh,” Song observed, “I think that’s the first time I’ve seen you smile, Li.”

              Zuko guessed it was.

***

Zuko scowled when the ostrich horse nipped at his hair. It was apparently her favourite pastime.

              Song giggled next to him, the she beast had her wrapped around her talon. But Zuko knew she was evil incarnate. If Zuko hadn’t known any better he would think Azula had turned into this beaked menace.

              “She certainly is a spirited one.” Song the traitor brushed her well-mannered bird while she watched Zuko dodge out of the cross hairs of his own, “I think she’s trying to groom you like one of her chicks, your hair is certainly short enough.”

             Song reached out to settle Zuko’s animal companion by stroking her beak. The bird calmed beneath her hand and accepted a treat from her.

              “You aren’t too familiar with ostrich horses, are you?”

              They’d had some back at the palace, but the stable hands always handled them, “I can ride one well enough.” Zuko attempted to cross his arms. The effect was lost when he remembered his arm was in a sling for the time being.

            He gave up trying to groom her and let Song take over. “She’s beautiful.” the bird looked to stand up straighter at the compliment. “What’s her name?”

              “Never gave her one.”

              “Come now, every good steed needs a name.” Song protested.

              “Well, she’s not very good.”

              “Li’s just being his grumpy self, don’t worry about it, girl.” Song nuzzled her snout. "You might as well give her a name.”

              Zuko said the first thing that came to mind when he looked at the she beast, “Lala.”

              “That’s a cute name.” Song seemed surprised, “Do you like it Lala?”

              The horse stared at Zuko with her beady eyes before huffing.

              Azula is anything but cute, Zuko thought, just like her. He only scoffed in response.

              “You two seem a lot alike,” Song observed.

              “What’s that supposed to mean? I am not a bird.”

              “Nothing.”

***

Sokka thought his day would get better once they’d ditched the weird nomads. Especially that guy that had been eyeing his underwear earlier. Not the best company to keep if you asked him.

              That was decidedly not the case.

              So, Omashu was under Fire Nation control, that was cool. Aang, kidnapping a Fire Nation baby, also cool.

              Crazy lady with blue fire and her stabby and poky companions. Decidedly not cool.

              Sokka was seriously rethinking his decision to climb onto that bison with his sister all those months ago.

              And then he noticed that shiny metal pointy thingy in crazy fire lady’s hair while she was propelling down the mail shoots with Aang and a boxed up Bumi.

              Maybe trying to bodily harm Aang was just a pastime of the Fire Nation Royal family.

              Huh, Sokka dodged an incoming knife and the baby in his arms giggled from aboard Appa. He did not seem to care at all that they were in mortal danger. His sister had just managed to dodge another knife. Then the pink girl hit his sister with several quick jabs on her arms. The magic water ceased to do its magic as it splashed on the wood.

              Neat trick, he thought.

              “What are you going to do without your bending,” Stabby jeered.

              Sokka wrenched his boomerang out of the baby’s mouth once more before taking aim, ignoring the gross Fire Nation slobber, so he could block Stabby’s knives that were aimed at his little sister.

              “I seem to manage.” Sokka caught his saliva filled weapon and wiped it on his trousers.

So apparently Bumi could earth bend the entire time and they’d gone through all that for nothing. Yeah, Sokka’s day was not going great.

***

Zuko stood over the pot of burn cream. His gut churned at the familiar smell. On his ship at the beginning of his banishment when he’d been delirious with fever, they’d used a similar recipe on him.

              There’d been a small skirmish nearby, the Earth Kingdom soldier had been brought to them with a case of severe burns, so they needed a new batch. Song had said the army used the clinic after all.

               Song stuck a thermometer into the mixture and bit her lip while she tried to ignore the screaming in the room next door.

              Zuko could almost feel what was happening. They would be removing the blackened skin and cleaning the wound. The debridement didn’t take long but each noise cut clear into Zuko. He’d likely been given something for the pain but from experience, Zuko knew that didn’t always help.

            The snip of scissors.

            The cot that protested under the weight of a man being held down.

            The drip, drip, drip of a wet cloth.

            The smell of burn cream.

            The hoarse pleads of a man lucky to have survived.

            Zuko didn’t need to imagine what was happening in the room. He’d lived it. The surgery would need to go off without a hitch if that fellow wanted full use of his arm.

            Zuko recalled a Water Tribe man who’d had bandages wrapped up his entire side at the nunnery he’d chased the Avatar to. He wondered if his wound had been as severe.

              He stepped away from the pot and ran for the sink, throwing up inside it.

              Song had a pitying look in her eyes, as she glanced at Zuko’s scar. “The batch is done, why don’t we go outside for some fresh air?”

              She took the pot off the burner and set it overtop a coaster to cool.

              Zuko scowled as he wiped the sick from his mouth with his uninjured arm. He blurrily saw the girl attempting to reach for him before she stopped. She likely recalled her first attempt that hadn’t ended well. He could barely see from his left, but Zuko made do with what he could. He made up for it by staying vigilant.

              He stomped out of the clinic, not caring if he bumped into someone. He had to get out of there.

On the porch, he gasped for air. Closing his eyes, he tried to calm down lest his flames start making an appearance. Inhale through his nose and then out through his mouth. Zuko held his palms to his lids so that all he saw was black even if he opened them.

              That was how Song found him when she came outside a few moments later. His head jerked up at her presence. If she saw any vulnerability in his expression she paid it no mind, she simply dried her wet hands with the skirt of her dress. She’d probably had to clean up the mess Zuko had made.

              Zuko turned his back to her.

              “Mind if I join you?” she asked.

              Zuko merely grunted.

              “I still get nightmares of when I got mine.” She sat down on the stairs of the clinic’s front entrance.

              She pulled up the brown fabric of her skirt. Without a word, she shimmied up the white leggings beneath, Zuko’s eye widened. The burn stretched up her calf all the way to her knee and still further.

              “I know what you’ve been through. We’ve all been through it. The Fire Nation hurt you. It’s okay, they’ve hurt me, too.” Once more the burn was hidden behind fabric. But it couldn’t be unseen.

              It had looked old. Some soldier had done that to a civilian child.

              Growing up, Zuko was often taught that the war was to spread the Fire Nation’s greatness. This didn’t seem like greatness. Even after he’d been banished, the war was always at the periphery for him. He hadn’t thought much about it.

              He knew it would be foolish to think the rest of the world would willingly lie down as his father’s army advanced. It was only logical they’d be burned. Just like it was only logical for the waterbenders at the North Pole to drown the Fire Nation. For the earthbenders in Ba Sing Se to burry his cousin beneath a pile of rock. For the Earth King’s army to attempt to cripple his uncle as the general who’d laid siege to them for six hundred days. It was a war, and Zuko hadn’t been naïve for a long time.

              When Zuko returned to Song’s house he made plans to leave the next day, he’d wasted enough time there. His arm was healed enough.

Song’s mother gave him some feed, a few meals for the road, and some cream in case his scar got too stiff.

            “I know you think there’s no hope left, but the Avatar has returned,” Song attempted to reassure him.

            “I know,” Zuko said bitterly.

            With one hand he climbed onto Lala and left.

            A pit formed in his stomach as he tried not to think about the money in the saddlebags. By the time they noticed some of their savings were missing, Zuko would be long gone.

              They’d shown him kindness, they could show him a little more. Besides, he hadn’t taken much.

Chapter Text

The next town Zuko approached was derelict. Every building was a single story, the thatched roofs and uneven masonry spoke of neglect by the continent’s earthbenders. Either all the ones born here had been required to join the army or they were taken away by the Fire Nation.

              There were spots of char that blackened a few of the buildings, many hadn’t been fixed. Zuko wasn’t sure whether they hadn’t been repaired due to lacking the materials or because they saw no use in doing so. They would be burned again sooner or later. This close to the colonies, he wouldn’t be surprised if the Fire Nation paid them a visit.

              The area was unseasonably dry, and the river was thin thanks to the dam the Fire Nation had built to supply Gaipan.

              Based on his map, this was the last town before he reached his destination. He’d purchased it along with a bedroll with some of the healer’s savings. The money felt like it was bleeding out of him, but it had been necessary.

              Zuko lowered the brim of his hat, keeping watch of his surroundings. The sun was going down soon, and he’d need to stay alert.

              Bandits and mercenaries littered the area like an infestation of ant flies. The daofei had only been emboldened by the war. There wasn’t much in way of law enforcement, Zuko hadn’t even seen many patrolling soldiers like the ones he’d come across up north.

              The states of the central Earth Kingdom were ghosts of themselves thanks to the Fire Nation chipping away bit by bit. The governors holed up in their estates or fled while others sought favourable deals with the Fire Nation, leaving the citizens they were responsible for to suffer.

              He headed further into town. He’d need to get Lala’s feed and get out quick.

There was a rowdy group of men next to the shop.

              A man with swords much too nice for the threadbare outfit he was wearing let out a hardy chuckle when his companion continued to lose at their game of Sparrowbones.

              “Four Gales!” one exclaimed.

              “Ouch, better luck next time, Sifu,” another teased.

              Hm, Zuko’s crew used to play that on the ship when they were tired of losing to Uncle at Pai Sho. He wasn’t a fan. Zuko’s luck had always been rotten, and if he ever betted actual money during the games they’d played to teach him, he would have lost the entire ship’s finances.

              The four men continued to slap the tiles against the table.

              “Don’t concern yourself with men like them boy, they’re trouble.” The shopkeeper warned, handing Zuko a bag of feed for Lala.

              I’m sure they are.

              But those swords did look enticing.

The idiot gave Zuko the opportunity later that night when he’d been wandering by himself with his Sparrowbone winnings. He whistled a chipper tune to himself.

              When he spotted Lala, his lips upturned into a cheshire grin. “My lucky day.” The man practically skipped towards the unaccompanied Ostrich horse.

              Huh, that’s weird, I could say the same thing, Zuko raised an eyebrow beneath his mask. Catching this idiot off guard was easy.

              Zuko jumped off of the roof from behind.

              “What? Who-who’s there?” The man whirled around, unsheathing his dao.

              Zuko nearly laughed at his stance, he would make quick work of him. He didn’t even need to use his own blades. When the man chose to strike with one of his swords, Zuko simply ducked low. With a grab of his wrist to use the man’s momentum against him, Zuko twisted him into a position not unlike one of Ty Lee’s contortions. Unfortunately, the man wasn’t so flexible.

              Zuko freed the man’s swords from his grasp and kicked him to the ground. After disarming him, Zuko dropped his old pair of broadswords, they landed on the ground with a metallic clang. A trade. Albeit an uneven one. Those swords at least matched the owner’s lack of skill.

              He experimented a bit with the new dao, swishing them through the air, yes these would do quite nicely. The grip and weight felt perfect, if Zuko were to guess, he’d probably nicked them off an earth kingdom nobleman.

              “Next time, don’t get cocky.”  He sheathed his blades in his scabbard.

***

Some hired earth kingdom soldiers were escorting the caravan. The tax collector had paid for the security detail, after daofei activity had increased in the area. Wei Yamsoon-han counted the gold pieces that were the result of the recent tax hike with giddy excitement.

              He was thankful not for the first time that his father had paid someone else to take his administrators exam.

              The governor of Li hadn’t ordered the recent tax hike. But he was growing senile in his old age, and Wei was there to reap the benefits. He would be able to pocket the difference and add it to the little nest egg he’d made for himself.

              With each little clink the gold made in the chest, his grin stretched wider. Clink, clink, clink. He might even be able to smuggle himself to Ba Sing Se’s upper ring and get as far away from the Fire Nation as possible. Or he could bribe the ash makers for his family’s safety. He’d heard from his cousins that they spared administrative officials after killing the leadership so long as they promised to help run things smoothly.

              Hmm, the possibilities, the possibilities.

              Wei was thrust forwards as his wagon grinded to a halt. He quickly clamped shut the lid of the chest of collected taxes. His eyes darted to and from, listening for any scuffles outside. Sweat trickled down his face.

              Could it be daofei?

              Silence.

              He breathed a sigh of relief and turned back to his chest.

              Then, two blades dug into the roof of the wagon. He leaned back, unaware whether the whimpering sound he heard was his own. He’d− he’d nearly been decapitated. Oma and Shu, he’d nearly been decapitated. The blades made quick work of the ceiling. The wood splintering.

              Official Yamsoon-han looked up, and up. If he weren’t so terrified he would see the figure for what it was, simply a man in a wooden theatre mask. But as he blurrily looked up through his tears, he would not see anything but the grinning rictus of something that couldn’t possibly be human.

              He whispered a prayer to the spirits with a broken voice. They must have deemed him unworthy. He held up the chest and closed his eyes in a desperate gamble for his life.

              It was snatched out of his hand and Wei breathed a sigh of relief.

***

Drinking tea and playing Pai Sho, the very picture of an ideal retirement, except Iroh was not retired, and he wouldn’t be for some time. The order had been pushing him non-stop to usurp his brother and put an end to the war.

              A new face sat across from him at his Pai Sho table. Iroh allowed himself to flow through the motions.

              “The guest has the first move,” he said.

              The lotus tile played at the centre of the board was a common sight as of late.

              “I see you favour the white lotus gambit. Not many still cling to the ancient ways.”

              The young initiate in front of him bowed his head. “Those who do can always find a friend.”

              They continue the familiar song and dance. Jasmine one-seven, Rose two-six, white Lily three-six, Chrysanthemum four six, White Jade five-six, Rhododendron six-six, Dragon two-five, Knotweed five-two…

              The young man relayed to him the recent intelligence the White Lotus operatives had gained.

              The Avatar had been spotted with his companions in the southern Earth Kingdom. Even if his niece had not invited him on her Avatar hunt; that didn’t mean Iroh would not seek him out when the time was right. The boy needed a firebending instructor after all.

              Entrusting a child to fight his brother did not sit well with him, but the other grandmasters in the order had insisted it would cause the least amount of political upheaval.

              Iroh did not want the throne, but he would perform his duty if he had to.

              Iroh once had other hopes for the future. The other nations would not easily bow before a reformed war criminal and Zuko…even if he’d been going through a difficult time, Iroh had thought that boy was the future. But it seemed the Dragon of the West had rotten luck when it came with sons, even ones in all but name.

              His niece was nowhere near as gentle. But perhaps if he took the throne first and allowed her some time to grow in a more peaceful world, she would make a good Firelord, she was certainly bright enough. He did not want to have to remarry and produce an heir in his old age. Such an age gap between generations was just asking for someone to overthrow him and create a puppet monarch. Like the Earth King who’d ascended to the throne at four years old.

              He frowned. Coups were nasty work, but what other choice did he have? He was getting later in his years, so an Agni Kai against Ozai was not as foolproof an option as it had once been. A brother fighting a brother, would have been just more senseless violence. But, after what he’d asked Zhao to do. All the while pretending to mourn at his son’s funeral? Ozai had ceased to be his brother. He’d found out from a White Lotus informant not long after reaching the capital. Had Zhao not been listed in the casualty list from the northern invasion, he would have had to sleep with one eye open.

              He could hear Jeong-Jeong and Pakku nagging at his decision to wait for the right time to strike. The great comet would be coming by the end of the summer. What do you suppose that despot will do with the power of a thousand suns, Iroh? Jeong-Jeong would say. The deserter had never been a fan of subtlety or waiting. But for what Iroh intended to do, subtlety was required. He would feign traveling like he once had after the death of his son.

              And if the Avatar managed to defeat his brother? Well Iroh did not want to fight a child for the throne, he’d need the support of the nobility if he were to jump ahead of Azula in the line of succession. She was only a little older than Zuko had been when that mockery of an Agni Kai had happened.

***

In the forest, Zuko looked down at his map and back up at the sight before him. This wasn’t right. There was supposed to be a colony here. Sure, the report on Zhao’s ship had said it had flooded, but the dam had been repaired. There should have been a town down in that valley.

              He climbed up the tree for a better view. In place of a town was−well Zuko wasn’t sure what it was.

              Barbed wire sat atop the wall that surrounded a large encampment. It was teaming with Fire Nation soldiers. Even if the flooding had been extensive, they would have rebuilt something by now.

              Amid the skeleton of what had once been a small colony, there were people huddled together. All in the garb of prisoners. A few dozen of them. All of the exits were boarded shut and well guarded.

              Why was there a prison encampment where a town should be?

              There was a ruckus as a small boy bolted out of one of the houses. being pursued by a gaggle of soldiers. He was wearing the same outfit the rest of the people were.

              “Not so fast you little terrorist!” one of them griped.

              He had a bag over his shoulder and a bun in his mouth, and he was weaving through them like a tiny menace, using his staff to hit them in unfortunate spots. One soldier keeled over and clutched his family jewels. Huh, the kid had even managed to get past the uniform. He must have had some experience aiming for the crotch. Zuko had no idea where he’d gotten the stick, but he was thankful he was far away from it.

              Zuko took in the sight. The kid was outmaneuvering the Fire Nation’s finest like it was nothing. He scuttled up one of the houses and stuck his tongue out at them. Then he made a mad dash for the edge of the encampment. Attempting to jump over the barbed wire from the tallest building.

              Zuko watched with rapt attention. but just before he could make it to the other side he was grabbed by the collar and his staff was yanked out of his hands.

              He spat the bun out of his mouth and screamed in a way only little kids could. “Get your paws off of me, ashmaker!”

              “That’s enough, you brat!”

              The kid bit at his captor’s arm, but he seemed to be prepared for it. He was held away.

              “That’s it!” he yelled.

              The man’s hand lit ablaze. Zuko held in his breath. But then the kid managed to wiggle out of his shirt and slide over the side of the roof. The fabric was the only thing that caught fire.

              Zuko let out his breath.

              What was going on? How had Gaipan become a prison encampment, and why did it hold children?

***

He’d left Lala tied up in the woods. Hopefully, she’d remain well behaved until he got back.

              Zuko crouched, Blue Spirit mask on. He needed to know what was going on here. Who was their commanding officer? What were their orders? Why were they keeping all those men women and children in such a sorry state? Under the cover of darkness, he avoided the nightwatchmen as he climbed walls erected around the town. Making sufficient room for himself among the barbed wire using his sword, he shimmied through the gap he’d made for himself, careful to not let anything snag.

              Once free, he collected the blade, let himself drop, and rolled with the momentum of his fall.

               Zuko steered clear of any torches, hiding within the unoccupied houses.

              The soldiers had wrangled everyone up into one of the larger buildings once night came. The signs of water damage against the wood were apparent. It smelled of mildew. They likely only fixed one place to house everyone. But why? It didn’t make a lick of sense.

              Zuko shook his head, using the cover of what had once been homes to make his way towards the prisoners. To see if that kid from earlier was okay.

              He looked through a window to find a horrid sight. Many were on the floor under threadbare blankets. The cots were spared for the elderly and children while the adults took the floor.

              When he saw their features, Zuko’s anger climbed. These people were Fire Nation. He had the sneaking suspicion they were the civilian occupants of the colony.

              How dare they! This was disgusting.

              A little girl clutched onto a raggedy doll as she cried into her mother’s embrace.

              Does the colonial governor know about this? Does my father?

              Zuko’s people in such acrid conditions. His nostrils flared at the indignity of it all. The children in there. This was a complete betrayal of Fire Nation principles.

              That was when he saw the kid from earlier, huddled in a corner by himself. Sniffing far away from the rest of the town’s inhabitants. He had his shirt back on, and he was hunched over himself. There was a new bandage wrapped around his forearm.

              Zuko saw red. The child looked to be less than ten years old!

              The Avatar would have to wait. Something rotten was happening.

***

The information depot was no Pohai stronghold. He’d simply climbed and hung from the rafters once he scaled the building.

              He waited, surveying the officers that passed beneath him. They looked so casual, like they didn’t know what the army was doing nearby to civilians.

              He ignored the mailroom with its possible information on the Avatar and headed straight for the commanding officer’s bureau. He wanted to find out which wretched person thought it proper to imprison an entire town and why.

              Gingerly, he picked the lock and entered.

              The room was small. A humble desk faced a window. The owner kept things neat, the wooden surface was as clean as the plates in the Firelord’s banquet hall. Nothing sat atop it save for a lamp.

What Zuko found in the drawers made little puffs of smoke escape his mask. He held his breath lest he set fire to his mask. His next breath was a calm one.

              The colony had been decommissioned by Governor Kohaku and its inhabitants detained to weed out possible terrorists from the dam attack. Zuko did not remember ever meeting her in the Caldera, but he recognized her family’s seal.

              Why order such draconian measures? The people of the village had lost their homes to the floods already.

              He continued to read.

              I find it hard to believe you could not locate a few hooligans living out in the trees. I am beginning to think that you and your men’s incompetence is malicious in nature.

              The Firelord was most displeased at the severity of the damage to the infrastructure. My head is on the chopping block as well as yours.

               As you know, the fertility of this valley and access to the abundant waterways is integral to feed our army and transport our supplies. I understand that imprisoning our own citizens is nasty business, but it is for the good of the nation. After all, I find it rather odd that the people of Gaipan were forewarned of the dam and escaped with there lives, don’t you? Maybe some of their half breeds with Earth Kingdom blood saw it fit to betray us. It wouldn’t be the first time. If that is true, we mustn’t allow any mold to fester and spoil the crops. Do you understand what I mean?

              If they prove difficult, I give you permission to cull those who are left. Including the young, as field reports have said that children were among the terrorists’ numbers. Any who question my decision may be transferred elsewhere.

              Zuko could only think of the kid back at the village, the one that was fighting Fire Nation soldiers. He felt a weight of lead in his stomach.

              The edges of the letter burned in Zuko’s hands as he growled.

              He glanced outside the window; dawn was fast approaching. Zuko put the papers back in the desk. Oh, how he wanted to burn this entire study. How he wanted to look Kohaku in the eyes and challenge her to an Agni Kai if she were a bender.

              If the information depot followed standard procedure, then he could be able to find the guard schedule, an account of how many men were there to guard the village, and the information of the depot’s next delivery of supplies.

              He riffled through the desk once more. He would need to hurry up his search. Zuko had the feeling it wouldn’t be long before they switched shifts.

***

On the way back to the village from the information depot, Lala stopped in her tracks, head darting around.

              Zuko surveyed his surroundings, his uninjured eye narrowing to match the one with a scar. He still had his mask on, so his peripheral vision was not what it usually was. Someone was hidden within the brush, he was good, Zuko would give him that.

              “Who are you supposed to be?” a deep voice asked.

              Zuko whirled around to find a giant. Based on his face, he couldn’t be older than Zuko, but the young man towered over him.

              Another youth popped out of the bushes where Zuko had suspected someone was hidden. Zuko eyed the axes he wielded in each hand.

              These must be the terrorists, he thought. Oh well he had one sword for each.

              “You’re not a soldier,” the giant observed.

              “No, I’m not. Are you the ones responsible for blowing up the dam?” Zuko’s voice was low, but not for lack of anger. His body buzzed with anticipation as he fixed his grip on his dao.

              “Listen it’s not safe around here.” The youth lowered his axes placatingly. “This forest is teaming with Fire Nation.”

              “You didn’t answer my question.”

              The giant sighed, “We helped.” He looked tired.

              “Do you,” Zuko began coldly, “have any idea what you’ve done?”

              “Trust me if I could take it back I would.”

              Then the giant began to tell Zuko their story. About a charismatic boy that lived in the trees, who’d saved them and given them a home. Given them a chance to fight. About how the motley crew of orphans fought for everything they had. They’d been so consumed by their hatred for the Fire Nation they didn’t notice when they’d gone too far.

              When the arrival of the Avatar and his waterbending companion gave them an opportunity, they were led by their leaders honeyed words to strike back against the fire nation in a way they never had before.

              The Avatar. Of course, he’d drowned an entire armada, what was one tiny village?

              The giant continued, the people were only saved because the Water Tribe boy travelling with the Avatar had caught on to the deception and warned the people of Gaipan in advance to the flooding.

              He’d−he’d shown Zuko’s people a great mercy.

              Finally, he spoke about what happened afterwords. How their leader had left, regretting his actions. How he’d broken up their group and his two oldest companions had decided to follow him. How even more left after that.

              “We were planning to leave soon too, and then they caught The Duke,” Pipsqueak finished.

              Pipsqueak’s description of the Duke matched the kid the soldier had been chasing before.

              An idea began forming in his head. One person alone couldn’t free the entire village, but with three, well, the odds evened up a little. “I don’t suppose you have any more of that blasting jelly you used to blow up the dam?”

              “Uh, yes,” Sneers confirmed.

              “Well, if you truly feel guilty, you’re going to pay penance by helping me rescue the entire town, not just your little friend.” Zuko smirked underneath his Blue Spirit mask.

              Yeah, this could actually work.

***

Zuko wondered how he had gotten himself in such a situation, planning to commit treason again. This time with terrorists.

              Perhaps it had started when Grandfather had commanded his father to kill him, suspiciously passing away in his sleep. Or maybe it was when he decided to open his big fat mouth in his father’s war room.

              He supposed things had really gone downhill when Lu Ten died. Lu Ten wouldn’t have messed so many things up, he would have been the ideal crown prince, the people loved him. He wouldn’t have been banished on a fool’s errand. Zuko could never be half the man his cousin was. He’d died valiantly protecting his fellow soldiers as they breached the outer walls of Ba Sing Se.

              In that moment, Zuko recalled his mother’s last words to him, Never forget who you are.

              He was their prince; he had a duty to ensure his subjects were safe like Lu Ten once had.

              He drew a deep breath in, and let it out, Reminiscing about the past would do him no good.

               He’d snuck into the commanding officer’s study at the information depot once more. Zuko had edited the shift schedule a little. Not so much as to be suspicious, but enough to ensure that come nightfall, they would be understaffed. And one of the gates would be unmanned, just for a moment, long enough for Pipsqueak and Sneers to get in. Zuko had shown them a map of the village, with any luck they’d be able to plant their surprises where planned.  

              On the other side of the town, Zuko tiptoed towards a lone guard, knocking him out was laughably easy. Just like his first day in Gaipan, he scaled the wall and got past the barbed wire. Once on the other side, he fished from his pack the blasting jelly he’d gotten from the treetop hideout. He dug into the ground, burying the pack of jelly. If he’d guessed right, it would be enough to get through the wall. Not as elegant as earthbending a way out, but it would have to do. Blowing things up wasn’t his go to but he’d borrow the move from Zhao’s repertoire, especially this outnumbered.

             Zuko planted similar packs of jelly around the village while he made his way to the building that housed the town’s occupants.

              Then he pounced. He made quick work of them taking the first out before the other two noticed. Zuko held up their unconscious companion, he flung the soldier forward. Trying to catch his comrade, the second was knocked down thanks to having his limbs otherwise occupied by a grown man. They fell in a heap. Zuko knocked him out with a kick to his head.The third attacked with his fire but dodging him was nothing compared to evading Azula when she’d been in a mood. Zuko ducked beneath the flames and with two strikes, he too was rendered unconscious.

              The firebending was unfortunate. It might be enough to sound the alarms.

              Cursing that he hadn’t been able to finish them off sooner, Zuko opened the door to get to the townspeople.

              It seemed the little skirmish outside had woken enough of them up. The room was awash with terrified chattering.

              “Quiet,” Zuko ordered, “I’m here to free all of you.”

              An old man with liver spots atop his bald head was the first to talk to Zuko, “Y-you’re the Blue Spirit!” he murmured hoarsely.

              “I am.”

              “You’re a wanted fugitive.” Funny, a man in prison garb was calling him a fugitive. From the Fire Nation’s perspective, they were both enemies of the state.

              Zuko ignored the villager’s observation and went through his pack. “My associates will guard your escape and take you some place safe.” The unoccupied little commune in the treetops would be able to house what was left of Gaipan for a bit. Zuko found what he was looking for and tossed the money he’d stolen from an Earth Kingdom tax collector into the elderly man’s lap. “You can use this to start anew, distribute it amongst yourselves.”

              “I- We can’t! the town is surrounded by soldiers,” a woman protested.

              “I will draw their attention, either leave or don’t. Although, I’d strongly encourage you to leave, Governor intends to keep you like cattle and kill you if you’re trouble. Is this truly the life you want for your children? I thought sons and daughters of fire would have more dignity. Wait for the fifth explosion and head to the western wall, that’ll be your way out.”

              “So, you’re not giving us a choice? An escape would most certainly fall under being trouble,” the woman glared.

              “No, I won’t let Kohaku have her way with you,” Zuko said simply.

              “Why would the Blue Spirit care about Fire Nation citizens?” another villager asked.

              “Because the people of the Fire Nation deserve better.” Zuko answered. He produced a flame in his palm.

              “You’re a traitor? “a man gasped.

              “No, I’m not. I am loyal to my people.”

              His people, who deserved more than their generals using them as sacrificial pawns for a diversion, more than foolhardy admirals leading them to a watery grave, and more than a governor punishing them for someone else’s misdeeds. Without another word, Zuko left the building.

              Zuko made his way to the first pack of blasting Jelly along the wall. He held out two fingers and bent the fire from afar.

              BOOM.

              Zuko had made the decision that from today on, the world would know the Blue Spirit was a bender. After all, willingly facing soldiers handicapped would be foolish.

              The wall crumbled.

              Once upon a time, Gaipan had been part of the Earth Kingdom, so it had seamlessly bent walls. It had been a fortuitous capture. A possibility for a more prosperous life for anyone willing to travel to settle the land in place of its old inhabitants. Those walls had turned from something to keep enemies out, to something that kept citizens in. Zuko was not saddened by its destruction.

              He drew his swords and waited for the soldiers to come.

              Zuko weaved through the first five, batting their flames aside, leading them away from the wall and towards the other surprises kindly planted throughout the town.

              BOOM!

              The planted explosives would leave them reluctant to use their firebending lest they accidentally hurt their allies. But Zuko knew where each of them was. It would be similar to his grandfather’s victory in Garsai when he’d sewn discord in the enemy army using a similar tactic and the strategic use of the Yuyan’s flaming arrows.

              He dodged another blast of fire. Another BOOM rattled behind him.

              He led the soldiers in between houses. He deflected the fire aimed at him and towards the blasting jelly. The walls of the house came down behind them and Zuko continued in his evasion.

              He ended up running into a group of more soldiers.

              Like an extension of his arms, Zuko used his dao to redirect the flames, back onto them.

              There was another explosion from behind them, knocking back any reinforcements.

              “A traitor!” one of them cried.

              “No!” Zuko projected his voice so as many of them could hear what he had to say next, “You became traitors when you chose to lock up innocents! When you decided to betray the people of the nation you swore to protect as soldiers!”

              He dove into the fray, kicking, and slashing, he did not use any killing blows, he was just a distraction after all. His fire arched out from his swords and towards the incoming soldiers, knocking them down. Zuko’s blood pumped with the ongoing battle. He barely registered the explosions the soldiers set off except for their position.

              They carved a messy path through the ruined colony.

              BOOM, slash, BOOM, kick, BOOM, deflect, BOOM, dodge.

              It was like the rush he’d felt at Pohai while escaping with the Avatar.

              Then he heard a whistle amid all the pandemonium. Sneers and Pipsqueak had gotten the people to safety. Now, all Zuko had to do was make his exit.

              Zuko whistled back that he received the message. The two freedom fighters had taught him a bit of their signals when they’d planned the little prison breakout.

              He could make his retreat. Zuko fell back aiming for a little mine in between him and the soldiers, what was left of the house toppled to the ground, separating them, and giving Zuko the chance to make his getaway.

Chapter Text

Perhaps Zuko hadn’t thought things through when he’d freed an entire village. His uncle certainly had scolded him for being impulsive before, and now the pig chickens had come home to roost. Sure, with the little treetop commune, the people had somewhere to lie low before leaving for other colonies. However it was tentative, a single piece of straw could end up breaking the camelephant’s back.

              Zuko had certainly opened a veritable can of worms.

              The information hub’s security would be heightened thank’s to Zuko. He’d discovered that Azula had been given his old duty. She’d left the homeland on a first-class battle cruiser that would have eaten Zuko’s own ship for breakfast. She had the total might of the fire Nation’s war machine at her disposal. Not only that but she did not need to fend off vindictive governors or navy men like Zhao undermining her. Zuko hadn’t had that luxury.

              Zuko needed to succeed as soon as possible. Every second Azula had increased her chances. His sister had clashed with the Avatar and his companions in New Ozai, where she’d recruited Mai and Ty Lee to assist her.

But he also couldn’t leave these people. He was their prince, not that any of them knew.

              He drummed on the sides of his mask, taking stock of his current situation.

              They’d all made it out of the encampment safely, with only a few with minor burns, luckily for them, the treehouse had plenty of burn cream and bandages. Such things were an absolute must for a local militia of children fighting people that could make fire with the flick of their wrists. Zuko was practically a veteran at handling burns, so he spent the first few adrenaline-packed hours since the jailbreak dressing wounds.

 Staying at Song’s ended up paying off, he’d assisted the village healer in gathering medicinal herbs for the sick and elderly. He’d been surprised to find that Zuko knew what he was talking about, when he’d described them to him. They weren’t able to find everything they needed, but he’d assured Zuko that what they had would suffice.

              The village children were enamoured with the idea of living in the trees and proceeded to climb with little regard for gravity or how high they were, especially after they’d seen the original residents navigate the zipline and pully system.

Zuko’s younger self would have been extremely jealous of the people that got to call this place home. All he could think of in the moment was how in Agni’s name was he going to smuggle a few dozen colonials out of danger without alerting the military of their whereabouts? That didn’t even touch upon how many mouths they had to feed. Zuko was not as equipped to feed these people as the Fire Nation army, although, based on how malnourished some of them looked, the army hadn’t been giving them proper meals.

Zuko was not as equipped as the Fire Nation army. Even if they shared the Freedom Fighters’ food would run out eventually. The food wasn’t the only problem. How on earth was he supposed to get all these people to safety? He couldn’t just leave all of them by dropping them into the laps of the neighbourhood terrorists. Zuko never did things halfway, nor would he ever start.  

He inwardly cursed, by the time he got everyone to safety, even if he managed to get information on the Avatar’s whereabouts it would be out of date.

His problems only multiplied when he considered what spending more than one day with these people would imply.  His scar was recognizable. Sure, Father didn’t exactly scream from the rooftops that he’d burned him, but the nobles that attended the Agni Kai were certainly chatty, and word got around. A person with enough clues could connect the dots and figure it out. Maybe he could just bandage it up? Even if hiding his scar made him feel like a miserable coward.

              He could swear all of the villagers to secrecy, but Zuko did not know what their word was worth. With so many people, he couldn’t possibly expect to keep a lid on it. He’d already outed himself as a firebender.

He loosened the tie of his mask and adjusted it a bit so only his mouth was visible. He wouldn’t be able to see or put ointment on his scar for the next however many days, but it would have to do.

Zuko nodded to himself and refastened it.

He bit his lip. He’d at least be able to eat meals like this.

That was one problem out of the way. Zuko had plenty more to solve.  How was he going to transport the sick, injured, and elderly? There were enough that Lala couldn’t carry them all. And that didn’t even begin to delve upon how conspicuous so many people traveling would be in this area. Especially after a jailbreak. The army would be combing the nearby area if they weren’t already.

In terms of supply’s, he could always rob the depot’s next shipment of provisions.

That could only happen once he had a solid exit strategy.

The colonial’s mixed heritage complicated things Depending on the governor, even earthbenders were treated with some decency. In the earth kingdom, fire benders would get executed. Several areas had a zero-tolerance policy.

Sneers had offered to serve as a lookout just in case. Pipsqueak was helping people settle in, and Zuko was savouring the scarce minutes he had alone

The two teens were amicable at least. If he were a nicer person, Zuko would have felt bad about twisting their arms and guilt tripping them to help out. However, considering they’d nearly killed the majority of the people currently residing in the trees, Zuko thought it was only fitting they did their part in rescuing them.

              He inspected his swords. He’d cleaned the blood off of them once he’d gotten to safety. Even if he showed restraint, he’d harmed his subjects with his own two hands. Outside of the heat of the moment, he could finally process it. He was not squeamish about blood, not anymore. Father had made sure of that.

              Zuko searched for the quietest platform, he set down his pack and sat down on the ledge. Carefully, he used his whetstone and water from his canteen to sharpen the blade. He allowed himself to sink into the menial task, finding comfort in the wind blowing through the budding trees and the little scrapes.

              His initial assessment of the swords had been true. They held up well to the heat of his bending. The metal hadn’t warped in the slightest. It was hard finding an alloy strong enough to contend with earthbenders and handle the heat of a firebenders flames. The chances got lower the further into the continent a person travelled. Weapons like that tended to be from older colonies like Yu Dao where people were able to combine their fine mastery over both fire and earth.

              Once done sharpening his swords, Zuko fished out the oil Sneers lent him and applied it. The metal gleamed beneath the few patches of sunlight that made it past the canopy.

              He recalled how Piandao had taught him how to take care of the metal. The time he’d spent with the man, had been Zuko’s best respite since his mother had disappeared. He could wholeheartedly throw himself into practice without the feeling of inadequacy he got whenever Azula teased him about how far behind he was in firebending. Nor did he have the crippling anxiety he got whenever his father observed his lessons.

              When Lu Ten died, practicing with his swords made him feel closer to his dead cousin who had also trained under Master Piandao.

              Lu Ten hadn’t been much older than Zuko was now. And wasn’t that something?

              Not for the first time, Zuko missed his old pair of swords. He’d forged them himself when Piandao had deemed he was ready for an adult pair. Only months later, he was banished. Zuko had been a different person back then. He’d been so proud when he’d finished them.

              Piandao had raised his eyebrows when he’d chosen the block of metal, remarking that Lu Ten had chosen the same one for his blade. That night he reverently ran his finger along the edge of the blade, wondering what Lu Ten would have said. He’d probably crack a joke about having impeccable taste. His death still didn’t feel real.

Zuko clenched his jaw. 

He closed his eyes and moved through some sword katas exhaling harshly before sheathing them.

Zuko was interrupted in his thoughts when the child (apparently known as The Duke, because none of the treetop terrorists had proper names) came stomping up to him with his hands on his hips.

              Free of his prison clothes, he had on quite possibly the weirdest ensemble Zuko had ever seen. A helmet with a little pike on top all but covered his eyes, he had a little red cape overtop a yellow shirt and green vest. His pants looked to be a size too big, but they’d been secured by a makeshift drawstring. The legs were tucked into boots and knee guards, his bracers, likely stolen from a Fire Nation soldier like the rest of his little armour, were improperly tied.

              Seeing him in the chaotic ensemble, Zuko found himself curious about the story behind it all.

              He scrunched his nose and glowered at him. Any intimidation factor the kid was trying to scrounge up was severely undercut by his dribbling nose and the baby fat that still clung to his cheeks. He looked up and down as if sizing Zuko up. He was likely copying an older person that did the same thing.

Then, he declared with the utmost confidence, “Your mask is weird.”

              Zuko lamented, not for the first time, how no one ever recognized the Mask of the Dark Water Spirit. Sure, random children who lived in the middle of nowhere had an excuse but none of the soldiers he’d fought had appeared to have seen Love Amongst the Dragons. If he ever became Fire Lord, his first order of business would be to include the play in the national curriculum. It was a centuries old classic from the era of Yangchen for crying out loud.

              Honestly, he wouldn’t be surprised if the mask was more recognizable as the Blue Spirit to most people at this point.

That was a travesty.

              “You have two swords like Jet though, and I guess you fight well for an ashmaker,” he harrumphed.

              Jet, that had been the name of the leader of the terrorists. Zuko did not want to have anything in common with the bastard who had the bright idea to drown an entire town.

              Zuko clicked his tongue, setting his blade and whetstone to the side.

              “How’s the arm?”

              The Duke sniffed, “What’s it to you?” He stood up a little taller and puffed up his chest.

              “Nothing, but it’s in your best interest to look after it.”

              The Duke leaned over Zuko so that they were face to face, “you even gonna take off that mask?”

              “No.”

              “Why, are you really ugly or something?”

              Zuko snorted, “Sure.” He had a disfiguring facial scar after all. He set his swords down and leaned back.

              “Hm, did you really break Aang out of that big fortress place?”

              “If by Aang you mean the Avatar, then yeah.”

              The Duke made a face, “Why? Aren’t you ashmakers supposed to hate him?”

              Zuko paused before answering. Hate him? No, Zuko hated that he was the only obstacle between him going home and being banished for the rest of his miserable life. He hated that he kept escaping from his clutches. However, Zuko couldn’t care less about what the Avatar was like as a person.

              Zuko chose his words carefully, “It was better for me if he wasn’t caught by Zhao.”

              The Duke didn’t seem satisfied with Zuko’s answer.

Zuko paid his anger no mind, his attention turning back the kid’s arms. “I didn’t see you get your burn checked out by the healer.” Zuko observed. “I have some extra bandages. If it needs rewrapping, I could help.”

The Duke frowned, “I know how to take care of burns mister.”

“Wrapping your own arm is a pain though,” Zuko shrugged, “Besides, burns get serious if you don’t look after them properly.”

“It got all stuck,” he grimaced, and his voice grew a bit weaker, “Longshot used to help me when that happened.” Zuko didn’t know who Longshot was, nor did he really care.

              The Duke reluctantly stuck out his arm.

              Zuko riffled through his bag for his canteen, cream, and spare bandages. Once everything was out, he patted the wooden platform next to him. “It might be more comfortable if you sat down for this, it’ll give me a better angle.”

              When he sat down, Zuko got to work, he wet the bandages so that they didn’t stick as badly.

Just  as he finished, a whistle sounded through the trees before the Duke could say anything. That was Sneer’s signal that there was Fire Nation scouts nearby. The child’s expression hardened in a way uncommon for someone his age, and he jumped on the nearest zipline, determined. 

Zuko was barely able to get to his feet before the Duke was out of sight, his reaction time was impeccable. He sheathed his dao and rushed after.

He smelled the smoke before he saw it.

Sneers was fighting off one scout with his axes while the others set fire to the trees. The Duke leapt out of the foliage and onto one of the men’s shoulders, blinding him, by rotating his helmet. The poor fool scrambled to get the kid off of him, but the Duke held on tight, like a champion bullpig rider.

Zuko focused on dousing the flames, before he joined in the fray.

The last to arrive was Pipsqueak. The teen was surprisingly resourceful with that club of his.

The small skirmish ended at the same time Zuko put out all of the fires. Frankly, underwhelming.

Pipsqueak dragged the unconscious soldiers away. Zuko wasn’t sure what he was going to do with them.

He didn’t ask.

He nodded and turned back to the trees. Zuko was more concerned with smuggling a couple dozen villagers out and quickly, before they set the entire forest ablaze. They were sitting turtleducks.

Their headcount totaled to fourty-eight people if they counted Zuko and the three Freedom Fighters. Five firebenders and one earthbender. One woman was far along in her pregnancy. Two elderly, four sick, and fifteen children below the age of twelve.

Zuko could feel a headache coming on.

***

The solution was so simple, Zuko was annoyed he hadn’t come up with it sooner. Funnily enough, it had the same solution to their supply problem.

              The information outpost received regular deliveries, he could simply commandeer the incoming supply wagons and use them to smuggle everyone out. There would be far less scrutiny on a military vehicle.

              The next shipment of goods would be in a few days, Zuko could intercept it, and take the uniforms. It would have a security detail, but it was low enough priority that he doubted there would be any Yuyan snipers.

***

The Duke was an odd kid. He always scowled at Zuko, he supposed not trusting Zuko was smart. He also followed Zuko like a shadow. It made Zuko all the more cautious when he was alone. It made Zuko paranoid.

              After a few days of planning his raid to acquire the depot’s military supply wagons he finally started to talk. By then Zuko still hadn’t figured out what a good distraction would be while they robbed the supply wagons coming to the depot.

              “I don’t know what you’re playing at,” he finally announced, “You’re an ashmaker, why are you fighting them?”

              Why in Agni’s name was he fighting them? Yeah Zuko was crazy but harming innocents was crazier. Besides he hadn’t killed any soldiers.

              How long until that’s no longer true? He thought bitterly.

              Agni. Just what had he gotten himself into. What was he planning to do?

              His dad had tried to get him killed, the Avatar and his friends had saved an entire village of Zuko’s people, and he was a fucking criminal that had committed treason multiple times.

              Perfect Zuko just perfect. You Agni forsaken idiot!

              He met the kid’s scowl, shook his head, and let out a bitter laugh.

              Lu Ten certainly wouldn’t have fucked up this much. Neither would Azula, I bet she’ll catch the Avatar and Father will make her the next Firelord. Azula’s mental but even she’s not as crazy as you are acting right now.

              Zuko pulled at his hair and sighed, “I don’t want to fight them.”

              The Duke narrowed his eyes and stepped back.

              Great Zuko you made the kid scared of you.

              “I’m not going to hurt you either.”

              “Ashmakers killed my mom, they-they hurt her! Why shouldn’t they get hurt! They deserve it!”

              Don’t get angry, don’t get angry, don’t get angry!

              “The same way the people in that that village deserved to drown? Go on why don’t you finish it? We’re all sitting ducks in these trees. Prove to me that we-they deserve this madness!”

              Damn.

              Did Zuko deserve this because he was a failure? Was that the real question here?

              The kid backed away, and sniffed.

              “We could have killed them. Just like my mom.” his voice cracked.

              And then he started sobbing.

Zuko had really done it now, he made the kid cry. And he had no idea how on earth he was supposed to comfort a sobbing child. His mom would have known, Lu Ten would have.

              Zuko was a real piece of work.

              He sat there momentarily frozen. His stomach felt like it was filled with rat vipers.

He remembered one day after father had screamed at him for not advancing to the next firebending kata quick enough he’d hid in the castle sobbing his eyes out, as quietly as he could. He’d put his burned arm on the cold stone floor so that it wouldn’t hurt, but it wasn’t stopping it from stinging, just granting him a bit of respite.

Lu Ten had found him then, hugged him, and then the next morning he said he’d had a surprise for Zuko. He’d told him to close his eyes and follow him.

Eventually, Zuko decided to emulate Lu Ten. He held out his arms and let the kid hug him. Zuko stiffened. This was so uncomfortable. Listening to the kid’s sobs Zuko thought about Lu Ten and what he would do with the all too familiar ache in is stomach.

Zuko slouched, arms hanging in front of him. He groaned impatiently.

              “Lu Teeeen,” Zuko whined, “how much longer until we get there, it’s taking foreverrrr.”

              “Just a bit more Zuzu, we’re almost there, I promise it’ll be worth it!”

              When Lu Ten had Zuko open his eyes, he was confused to find a training hall.

              “Do you know who master Piandao is?”

              “Yeah he’s your sword teacher, right.?”

              Lu Ten grinned, “He’s a non-bender but he’s had me beat more times than I can count. I reckon he could give most fire benders like us a run for there money.”

              “What so I’m not a good bender and you think I should just stick to swords is that it!?” Zuko’s eyes filled with tears.

              “Am I a bad bender Zuzu?”

              No, Lu Ten was the best he was amazing, and so strong! He shook his head quickly.

              “It’s just a skill. Bending isn’t everything, even if it’s a blessing.” Lu Ten grinned, “you wanna try and learn how to use swords?”

That day had changed Zuko’s life forever, for better or worse. Just like that military meeting, and the day Zuko’s ship had blown up.

              He rubbed the kid’s back.

              What a sight they made, the banished treasonous prince and an Earth Kingdom terrorist child hugging each other in the middle of the woods.

              I was pretty harsh.  He’d really messed things up again.

              The kid was probably a killer, and there Zuko was embracing an enemy.

              Still, he was a kid. A kid that got burned by Fire Nation soldiers, and who was imprisoned by them. A kid that probably fell into the wrong crowd. None of these kids had parents and they lived in the trees like hooligans attacking Zuko’s countrymen hurting the world because the world hurt them first. Zuko had felt that anger before. He was an angry piece of work that was lucky to be alive.

              This war was killing everyone.

              This war was making children into murderers. Stealing mothers and fathers, and childhoods.

              Zuko had thought his life’s purpose was capturing the Avatar. He was living it up wallowing in his misery on his ship. Unlike the Duke he was well fed and warm. And he’d spent every day yelling at his uncle, who’s only sin had been staying at Zuko’s side. An uncle who he’d nearly gotten killed.

And to top it all he’d been trying to capture a kid to bring to his father. His father who had probably ordered his death and nearly killed him when he wasn’t much older than the Avatar or the Duke.

Well, his father would most certainly kill him now that he was a traitor.

              The Earth Kingdom hates us Lu Ten.

              He was an honourless criminal, but Zuko had a duty to his people. Would capturing the Avatar, a being that had drowned an entire armada stop it sooner? Zuko honestly didn’t know.

              One thing was for sure. He had a whole village relying on him. This kid was apparently relying on him too. As crazy as it was.

              He had work to do.

The Duke stopped scowling at him. But that didn’t stop him from bothering Zuko all the time.

              The night before the raid he finally talked.

“Are you like me?” the Duke asked in a small voice, “Longshot was, he said not to tell Jet.”

              “What do you mean?”

              “Coal,” he said.

              There was so much meaning behind one word. It explained why Zuko had originally thought he was from Gaipan.

              “I’m coal,” he repeated morosely, “that’s what my family said when they tried to make mama leave me behind. When I asked her about it, she said it was because the fire nation hurt her… and then those ashmakers hurt her again, killed her…and I became just like them, didn’t I just like my dad?

 Jet called me The Duke because I’m bossy like nobility. But I don’t think I’m very noble.”

              And Zuko had no idea what he was supposed to do after that literal bomb had been dropped. The kid had trusted him with all that. Agni.

              Zuko took off his mask. “They hurt me too. But no, I’m not coal.”

              His stomach broiled when he said the term.

              “I’m uh, I’m Hwan. What’s your name?”

              “Li.”

              “I’m sorry they hurt you.”

              Honestly Zuko didn’t know what to say to that.

              “Maybe I can be the Duke again if I save people like you and Aang. Like how you’re the Blue Spirit.”

              Zuko choked. Did this kid look up to him? “Maybe,” he huffed.

              “I wanna help you guys get everyone out tomorrow.”

              Zuko had seen him weaving through fire nation soldiers like it was nothing. He was sneaky enough to steal from them in the prison too. Zuko made some adjustments to his plans.

              “Say, how good of an actor are you the Duke?”

              See Uncle, I can think things through.

              He prayed to Agni that this would work.

***

The Duke as it turned out was an absolutely brilliant actor.

              Sneers and Pipsqueak had scouted the supply route. Zuko lay in wait. And watched while the Duke played the role of his life.

              Zuko had stolen some fire nation kid’s clothes from the ruins of Gaipan earlier that morning.

              He pretended to trip in the middle of the street and started balling.

              The soldiers all looked baffled.

              Zuko grinned almost as wide as the mask he had on.  There were three wagons just as their scouting had revealed. One for Sneers another for Pipsqueak and a third for Zuko.

              He knocked out the soldiers guarding the wagon and snuck on.

              Then he did the fastest quick change he’d done in his life. Tossing the now armour less guard out of the wagon.

              He heard the Duke’s wail outside, “help me sirs, I think that’s the Blue Spirit.”

              “Don’t worry kid, we’ll protect you!”

              Zuko ran to the next wagon to find Sneers facing off with a bunch of Fire Nation soldiers with his two axes.

Zuko whistled to signal that it was him.

              “You’re outnumbered now kid! Let’s get him Ryu!” Ryu was probably the name of the guard Zuko had replaced.

              Unfortunately he hadn’t expected Zuko dressed as a fellow soldier to knock him out.

              “Oh badgermoles, I’m really going to have to dress up as one of those ashmakers aren’t I?” Sneers grimaced.

              Zuko rolled his eyes while he hauled the unconscious soldier.

              “I’ll go see if Pipsqueak is done.”

              “Blue Spirit? Has anyone told you you’re mad?”

              Myself several times this week, Zuko’s mind supplied.

              “Just get dressed, terrorist.”

              “I’m not a terrorist; I’m a freedom fighter.” He complained.

              Zuko scowled, he could call himself whatever he’d like, but Zuko didn’t care so long as he was making up for almost murdering an entire village.

              Pipsqueak couldn’t fit into the standard Fire Nation armour. So they were going to play a ruse.

              He made a hand signal to show that he was actually Zuko.

              Pipsqueak had pretty much finished everyone near his wagon there were only two left. Unfortunately the wagon was on fire. Zuko doused the flames and hoped they could save some of the inventory.

              Then once he was done he did something he’d been wanting to do ever since he met pipsqueak he aimed a burst of fire at the teen who’d just managed to knock his opponents out.

              That’ll show you for trying to murder an entire village.

              Unfortunately, he was only pretending to fight him. So, he couldn’t inflict damage. The fire would fizzle out before he touched his skin.

              The Duke was still screaming his little heart out. Zuko managed to knock Pipsqueak off his feet with a sweeping kick.

              Pipsqueak fell to the floor and pretended to be unconscious.

              “I think we managed to capture the Blue Spirit in the last wagon.” Zuko said while he signaled to The Duke discretely with his left hand that it was him.

              The two idiots that were guarding Hwan from supposed danger didn’t know what hit him. The Duke launched himself at one of their backs while Zuko took the second. Once he was down, he helped the Duke with his.

              When it was over Zuko wanted to laugh.

              Oh, Agni that Really worked! Sure, one of the wagons was ruined but it worked!

              They left all the soldiers unconscious and spirited away with their armour and supplies. They’d moved anything that was salvageable from the damaged cart onto the other two.

              “That was awesome!” The Duke exclaimed.

              Zuko huffed. That kid was certainly something.

Chapter Text

Iroh was depressed, the Avatar was an immature child, and the banished prince the white lotus had been banking all their plans on to help them with a coop was dead. Jeong-Jeong, lamented not for the first time what things had come to. hiding out in the woods as a deserter had never been the pinnacle of luxury but the Avatar had managed to basically help in burning down the encampment he’d had. It had disrupted the entire desertion network they were operating, and he’d only just began to fix things from there.

              Jeong-Jeong sighed.

              Omashu had fallen. The last stronghold in the Earth Kingdom was the corrupt Ba Sing Se, Iroh was not stepping up, and Bumi was imprisoned. Paku had passed through a few weeks ago on his trip south to tell him what had happened during the Siege of the North and deliver a few messages.

              Ever since the Avatar had returned, responsibilities were increasing, desertions had been at an all time high. The network had come to him to talk about General Onomu asking for asylum in exchange for war plans in Ba Sing Se. Political assassinations weren’t beyond the pale, especially when someone decided to disagree with Fire Lord Ozai.

              The candles of his tent surged. He had no idea whether the General was genuine or if it was another gambit to lure him out.  He supposed if even the famed Dragon of the West could see the errors of his ways this Onomu woman was telling the truth. He could always assign Zimo to check things out and get her on the protection depot. Rumour had it she was nearly killed for judging Ozai’s invasion of Omashu.

              It could be a boon to ending the war. He’d never thought all those years ago when he’d first deserted from the navy as an admiral that he’d be leading an underground network of deserters or that he would meet the Avatar.

              Lately he’d been picking up the slack of an old friend who was grieving. Iroh was supposed to handle the above board political machinations while Jeong-Jeong handled traitors.

              Years ago Iroh had made the gambit that if he joined his nephew in banishment, he could become a powerful ally. In all honesty Jeong-Jeong thought that was an excuse to look after the young man and leave the court and the duty of serving as their spy in the war room. Iroh was tired of all the bloodshed he was spreading in keeping up with the ruse. He had no idea if Iroh would even return to court or not but he needed to suck it up and do something. The comet was coming and there was only so much time. Jeong-Jeong did not believe in wagering all their bets in an impulsive child. Because that was what the princess and the Avatar both were. Maybe it could lessen the impact of a coup but Jeong-Jeong had all but given up on Fire both the nation and the element.

              He sighed not for the first time. Agni give him strength. He continued to meditate.

Suddenly someone barged into his tent, “Sir, I’m not sure what is happening, but the scouts spotted something north of the camp.”

              That something appeared to be an encampment of nearly fifty people camped out. With Fire nation Soldiers. And a few supply wagons. What on earth was happening? They weren’t chained like prisoners but they did have prisoner outfits one woman was pregnant. There was a group of children not far away that was playing in the field in the prisoner outfits with the guards heeding them no mind.

One of the children earth-bent. They stiffened poised to attack to protect the child.

What happened next made Jeong-Jeong’s jaw dropped to the floor.

The child shrieked in delight and ran to one of the fire nation gaurds, “Daddy! Daddy, did you just see that I’m a bender, just like you!”

The guard picked her up and tossed her in the air.  “Guess you take after your mom’s side of the family. Maybe we’ll find a water bender and Airbender next and we’ll have all four elements in the family. He produced a jet of flames once he set her down.

Jeong-Jeong had no idea what was going on.

“What on earth is happening?” one of his companions managed to voice his thoughts.

“I have no idea.”

              “You reckon they’d be dangerous if we asked?” Che wondered.

There was a rustle in the trees and Zuko felt on high alert, he’d gone into the forest for some privacy and to eat lunch without his face showing. At this point his blue spirit mask honestly felt like a piece of his body. When he found a group of. Well he had no idea what

              He heard voices up ahead between him and the encampment.

              “What on earth is happening?” one person exclaimed.

He spotted a group of five people he didn’t recognize without prisoners’ robes.

Zuko stepped on a twig, and he wasn’t wearing his mask. Well. As the avatar would say. Monkey feathers.

A vaguely familiar woman whirled around her hands out in a classic firebending pose and then she shrieked. “Zuko!”

Zuko’s eyes widened.

He had no idea who this woman was. The eldest person among them turned around and there was a face that was on more wanted posters than the blue spirit.

Ex Admiral Jeong-Jeong.

“What the Fuck! Did you fake your death too!” the woman screamed.

Zuko drew out his swords. Heart racing.

“Do you think I’m going to kill my dead best friend’s little cousin, you little bastard!” the woman yelled.

And then things clicked.

Zimo?

Zuko sheathed his swords what in Agni’s name had he just walked into?

“I did not fake my death,” he grit out.

“It sure looks like you did!”

Jeong-Jeong the Agni forsaken deserter looked between them with an odd look in his eyes, “Well, I’m not sure whether Iroh will laugh or cry about this.”

Zuko’s eyes widened because, as Zimo would say, what the fuck?

“I’m sure he’ll do both.” The woman ran and hugged him. And preceded to illustrate it.

Zimo one of the top scorers from the Royal academy and last Zuko checked was an imperial firebender who died on the front lines of the war was apparently here with Jeong-Jeong the deserter who was…friends…with his uncle…

And Zuko had just happened upon them by chance. Zuko stood there stiff while the woman was hugging him. He barely even knew Zimo. She’d gone off to the front along the same time as Lu Ten, and disappeared a few years ago. Her family thought she was killed in action.

“So…?” Zuko began awkwardly.

And then she jostled Zuko’s mask that was hanging around the back of his neck.

“Oh my Agni! Zuko!” She spluttered, eyes wide “You! You! Pohai, That was you!”

Okay, Zuko had it. “Zimo for the love of everything, please shut up. You’ll get someone to try to kill me again.”

              “Did Iroh convince you to?” Jeong-Jeong asked.

              “What? No Uncle’s not a traitor.”

              Jeong-Jeong burst out laughing.

              What?

              What the fuck?

              “Well it’s not known to everyone.”

              Was General Iroh the Dragon of the West a traitor to the Fire Nation?!

              Zuko needed to pinch himself, because was he dreaming?

              That’s when the Duke came running into the trees. “Li! I heard a bunch of screaming!”

              “Li,” Zimo repeated under her breath hysterically.

              Well so much for keeping things secret.

              “It’s fine, I’m fine, everything is fine.” If he called meeting a dangerous fugitive with his cousin’s best friend in the middle of the woods fine.

              Oh and not to mention, Uncle’s probably a fucking traitor. He thought all this time he was keeping him safe while not reaching out to him. 

              Zuko massaged his brows feeling a headache coming on.

              Zimo grinned looking between Zuko and the Duke. Then she infuriatingly put an arm around Zuko’s shoulder. “Yeah, Li and I go way back.”

              “Oh Cool.”

              Cool. Yeah this was so cool.

              Maybe Zuko had tripped over a rock and hit his head because this could not be real.

              He started counting in his head. And then exhaled. Steam coming out of his nose.

              “Are-are you okay?”

              Zuko pulled his hair, “Yeah why wouldn’t I be?” his voice cracked.

              “Look Li,” she drew out Zuko’s name. “Can you tell me what’s uh going on? Cause I’m assuming that those people in the clearing there are friends of yours.”

              “Oh Li broke us out of jail,” the Duke supplied helpfully.

              Zimo’s eyebrows rose. “Really?”

““Yeah it was awesome.”

“Hey the Duke you mind telling everyone I’m okay, I just have some catching up to do.”

The Duke looked between them and Zuko and nodded before running off.

“Cute kid,” Zimo observed, “So are you specializing in jailbreak’s, what’s next the boiling rock?”

Zuko groaned. And sat on the ground just about done with everything.

And Zuko talked. The words practically vomited out of his mouth. It had been a while since he could talk to someone who knew who he was.

“Ozai did what!” Zimo yelled when he got to the part about the letter he found on Zhao’s ship. “Oh, I’m going to kill him.”

Zuko chuckled hoarsely.

              When he got to the turtle seals, Jeong-Jeong stare at him gobsmacked. “D-do you know how long those creatures can hold their breaths?”

              “uh no, Do you?”

              “An hour and a half.”

              How did Jeong-Jeong know that?

              “I’m not sure how I’m supposed to tell the northern water tribe that a teenager managed to break into their city undetected by following turtle seals.” Jeong-Jeong muttered, “How are you alive?”

              ‘Zuko shrugged.

              When he got to the part about the moon spirit, and the giant koi fish, Zimo repeated Jeong-Jeong’s question, “Zuko how are you alive?” and then again when he recounted the raft in the ocean.

              “Tui and La must really like you. You’re really lucky kid.”

Uh, no Zuko was not lucky at all. A lucky person wouldn’t have had their ship blow up.

              He told them about the conscription, and the ostrich horse, the healers, and finally Gaipen.

              “So yeah that’s everything.”

              “They were seriously going to kill them after losing their homes like that?”

              “Yeah. If I didn’t have to stay low I would have stopped pretending to be dead and challenged that governor to an Agni Kai.”

              “Zuko you’re amazing!”

              No he wasn’t. He failed at so many things.

              After a long bought of silence, Zuko finally spoke up.

              “You said you know my uncle, right?”

              Jeong-Jeong nodded.

              “How-how is he?”

              “Fine. I’m sure he’ll be better to know that you’re alive.”

              “Do you, uh think it’s safe to tell him?”

              “Zuko,” Zimo gave him an expression of anguish, “why wouldn’t you tell him?”

              “I don’t know, I nearly got him blown up and I’m a traitor now.” Zuko shrugged, “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

              Jeong-Jeong let out a noise of incredulity, “do you think he’d be mad at you?”

              Zuko shrugged again.

              “I assure you he would not.”

              The guilt in Zuko’s stomach since his ship blew up lessened a little.

“Although, he has a lot of scrutiny on him, so if he came to seek you out, it would be dangerous. If you want to tell him anything I can get a message out.”

Zuko didn’t want to hope for anything.

“For now, would you mind introducing us to your new friends, there’s a refugee network that can help.” Jeong-Jeong asked.

“Would you mind uh not mentioning who I am, I’m trying to keep my identity a secret.”

Zimo nodded, “that’s probably a good choice, Ozai will definitely want to send people after you if word accidentally got out.

Zuko huffed, “yeah, I guess he would,” tears gathered in his eyes. “So you can really get a message to Uncle?”

              Jeong Jeong nodded

              “Alright. Let’s uh, let’s go.”

***

Prince Zuko was certainly something else.

              Jeong-Jeong knew the reason he’d been banished was trying to prevent the massacre of the forty first but he was starting to see why Iroh was so adamant about joining him on his banishment.

              He was not talkative around the village people, they mostly called him Li or Blue. But they all looked at him with utmost respect.

              They entered one of the wagons to have a private discussion about how to proceed. Jeong-Jeong and Zimo’s other companions had gone back to camp to alert everyone that the coast was clear.

              “I uh, the biggest thing we need is medical supplies for the birth and a safe place to stay. The problem is there’s so many of them that it’s super conspicuous. Forty eight people isn’t exactly stealthy, they can’t be in the wagons the entire time, and I’m not sure about the destination, I’m thinking YuDao because it’s populated, there’s a lot of mixed heritage, and it’s far away. So an entire group of climate refugees wouldn’t immediately be linked to Gaipen.”

              Yes Jeong-Jeong most definitely understood why Iroh went with him. If this young man was Fire Lord, he could bring back what Jeong-Jeong loved about his country.

              Still he couldn’t get his hopes entirely up.

              “If the avatar won the war, what would you do?”

              “I don’t know. It’s not like I can do much.”

              “Your father would be gone.”

              Zuko huffed, “Well yeah obviously.”

              “Would you return to the Fire Nation?”

              Zuko looked away, “I’m banished and a traitor. I’d be arrested on sight.”

              “By Ozai’s decree. Things would most certainly change.”

              Zuko narrowed his eyes. And scowled. “What do you want me as a puppet monarch or something? I wouldn’t betray my people like that.”

              Jeong-Jeong smiled, “Not as a puppet. I honestly would rather Iroh manage to get back into the line of succession, but you as his heir…well, I think that would be something. Especially if you helped end the war.”

              “I’m not replacing Lu Ten.” Zuko muttered.

              Zimo’s eyes softened, “You’re not a replacement. For what it’s worth, I’m sure he’d be proud of you.”

              Zuko’s voice cracked, “He’d be proud of betraying the country he died trying to fight for?”

              “No he’d be proud you saved so many of your countrymen, for standing up for our soldiers. Zuko…you’re one of the reasons I deserted. And I’m sure if he were alive he wouldn’t hold it against me.”

              The boy was silent. His mouth barely open.

“It was the Agni Kai. Your father nearly killed you multiple times and set you on a fools errand to get rid of you in the line of succession.”

              “That’s not-” Zuko’s eyes widened, that terrible scar preventing one of them from being completely open. “That’s not why, that’s not- I was disrespectful.”

              “Zuko, I don’t think that’s why, Lu Ten used to talk about how he treated you.” Zimo said quietly, “I am almost positive that is why he banished you. He just used the situation to his advantage.”

              The boy started breathing heavily fire escaping his nostrils and mouth. He shook his head. He clenched his teeth, and finally, he slipped on his blue spirit mask and stormed out of the wagon.

              Jeong-Jeong processed what the woman just said. If that were true, getting the nobles to turn away from Ozai would be easier than expected.

Zuko went through every Kata he knew and then some. For probably hours.

              I am almost positive that is why he banished you.

              His father tried to kill him twice. That couldn’t be true had the Agni kai been less of a punishment than a murder attempt.

              When he finished the next Kata, he stood there in the clearing huffing. When he turned around the entire village was staring at him.

              “Teach me how to firebend!” a little boy yelled bouncing up and down.

              The village stared, Zuko stared back from behind his mask.

              Then fucking Jeong-Jeong the deserter raised his eyebrows, he put out some of the spare flames Zuko had forgotten to mind. Oh.

              Uncle would have yelled at him for that display. At least with the ship’s deck he didn’t have anything flammable

              “I’m can see how you managed to best my student in an Agni Kai.”

              Zuko blinked. This man taught Zhao.

              “The ocean spirit killed him.” He blurted out.

              “hm, well it’s his fault for meddling with spirits. He always was a fool, That’s why I stopped teaching him. Far too…”he trailed off looking at the scorched grass around Zuko, “arrogant, reckless, and hotheaded.”

              Jeong-Jeong’s mouth quirked up in a smile.

              And oh he was insinuating that about Zuko too wasn’t he. “You’re not arrogant though, definitely hotheaded. At least you went enough distance to practice. Do you know more of the advanced set?”

              Zuko stared at a man he probably would have fought on sight months ago. Was he offering firebending lessons?

              “No, I only just started them.”

              “Only Just, I started them when I was eighteen!” Zimo blurted, “And that was considered young. Honestly I think it would be a toss up if we ever fought. Especially if you beat a master at sixteen.”

              Oh “My dad said my sister was probably going to start them at thirteen.”

              “What?”

              “She was doing the fifth middle form when I left.”

              “Wouldn’t she have been eleven?”

              Zuko shrugged and did the mental math, “Yeah.”

              Zimo didn’t say another word.

              “She’s probably started learning lightning too.”

              “Oh your uncle said she was.” Jeong-Jeong hummed, “Although he said you had a better foundation”

              Zuko blinked again.

              Uncle thought he was better at certain firebending than Azula? Was he mental?

              “So, do you want to learn the next part?”

              Jeong-Jeong was probably one of the best firebenders in the world, right up there with the royal family… and he was offering to teach Zuko. There had to be an ulterior motive here. Although he was a fugitive and he did outright say he wanted Zuko to be Firelord some day. Zuko wasn’t going to be this man’s puppet, but learning more firebending was something he never thought would happen since the ship had blown up.         

              He honestly didn’t know what to think and he was getting far too sweaty beneath the mask.

              “Yeah.”

              Zuko really did want to learn more.

              “I’ll be here tomorrow at dawn. Oh and tell me when you have that message for your uncle.”

              And the most wanted man alive simply walked past Zuko into the woods, Zimo behind him. She gave Zuko a quick hug.

              “So, uh mister Blue Spirit, can you teach me how to firebend?” the kid from earlier asked.

              Zuko rolled his eyes..

              There were a bunch of townspeople gossiping nearby.

              One phrase stood out more than the others, “You reckon he’s a deserter too?”

              “Must have been pretty high up to be able to bend like that.”

              Well, they weren’t wrong per se.