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Chapter Text

In hindsight staying behind to face Azula had been a terrible idea. He had never won any sort of battle against her before, despite being the older sibling, and should have followed his uncle. Escape to fight another day. Preferably when the gap between their skill levels did not fall so heavily out of his favour.

Once the Dai Li opened a tunnel and pushed him in, he had little time to spare for any thoughts until the tunnel ended and he was left sprawled on the hard ground.

A shuffle of feet and a rustle of cloth was all the warning he had before someone spoke his name in disbelief. He got to his knees, and he looked up, his golden eyes meeting the bright blue of the Water Tribe girl the Avatar travelled with. He’d heard her name called quite a few times, but his mind was drawing a blank at the moment, so he kept quiet to reduce the risk of offending her.

The tunnel was closed, but there were crystals everywhere that let off a strange yet soft luminescence. It made the underground space feel a little less oppressive and far lighter than he’d expected. At least he didn’t have to waste his energy to keep a flame in his hand. That was about the only small mercy he felt the universe had seen fit to grant him at the moment.

He turned away from the girl, exposing his back to her. He hunched his shoulders and hugged his knees, hoping she attributed his behaviour to being captured and not because he was desperately telling himself that this girl was not his sister and would not try to kill him the moment he gave her an opening. Turning his back to her meant he was leaving himself wide open. At least she didn’t have her waterskin and so was likely unarmed. It was only a small comfort amongst the strained silence.

Zuko’s mind was racing though. He knew the Avatar was in Ba Sing Se due to the flyers about his sky bison. The Firebender had even gone to find the sky bison and use it to capture the Avatar. His uncle had followed him, asking him some hard questions and throwing some unwanted truths in his face. He’d ended up setting the beast free and falling ill once back in their apartment.

Life had seemed better once he’d recovered, although the strange dragon-like serpents in his dreams had weirded him out a lot.

The blue one, sounding much like his sister, had a soft voice that spoke calm, honeyed words. It was enticing and persuasive. The red one sounded like his uncle, but he was loud and angry. Although the words made sense, the tone was frightening, making him want to turn away. The floor had crumbled beneath him, sending him falling into a dark void so he ended up following neither reptile.

The silence was broken by his fellow prisoner, but they ended up finding common ground in their missing mothers.

Then she offered to heal his scar.

His eyes fell shut at the not-quite-there feeling of her fingers on his scar tissue.

Zuko was tempted. He was very tempted. His scar was a distinct, painful symbol and reminder of his disrespect towards his father, even though he’d never intended such a thing. If she really could heal it, really could remove the physical stain of dishonour that marked him… But if it was healed, would his father think he hadn’t learned his lesson? Would he think Zuko weak or disloyal for not bearing the burden of his punishment like his father wanted?

He didn’t get the time to think as the Avatar appeared in a newly created tunnel, accompanied by...Uncle?! He scowled as the young Avatar glared at him over the girl’s shoulder as they hugged, clearly visible around his uncle’s bulk.

Then his uncle was telling him to basically become a full-blown traitor and Azula appeared, her Dai Li agents trapping the old man among spurs of crystal.

Zuko felt like he was suddenly back in his dream with the two serpents, although this time it truly was Azula and his Uncle vying for his ear. His uncle wasn’t shouting and Azula’s words weren’t quite as honeyed, but she certainly made it feel as though her way was the better way. Indeed, the only way to get exactly what he’d wanted for the last three years; to return home and be welcomed by his father.

Azula left the choice up to him. He stalked away from his uncle, following the path his little sister had taken. He wanted to view how things were going before he jumped in. If fate was on his side, then the battle would end swiftly, and he would never have to decide. Perhaps he could find some other way than betraying the one family member that had stuck by him during his banishment, even though he wasn’t pleased by the traitorous talk.

He peeked out into a large cavern that had channels of water flowing through it. The Waterbender was taking full advantage of her element, as were the Dai Li. Azula was, of course, perfectly fine with her self-generated blue flames. The Avatar was using a mix of air, water and earth, but no fire. He obviously hadn’t started learning Firebending yet.

The teen’s thoughts were a mess. It had been nice to live a life devoid of the pressures his father and nation placed on his shoulders, but it did feel like he was just running away. He couldn’t run forever, he had a duty as the crown prince of the Fire Nation, even if he was currently banished.

But it was so hard to trust Azula’s words. She lied as easily as breathing and had nearly captured both him and Uncle as prisoners with him none the wiser. He was too eager to go home, too blinded by having his dream handed to him on a silver platter. This time he could earn it instead, which would be much better. What if it turned out to be just another trap though?

Zuko grit his teeth and let his breath hiss through the tiny gaps. You wouldn’t throw lightning at me, but I guess it can’t hurt to ask for a sign or some sort of help with this decision. Come on, universe, is siding with Azula worth it? Is it my destiny to join her against the Avatar? Or will I be better off siding with Uncle like before at Azula’s ship?

He didn’t expect the universe to answer him. It never had before, unless ignoring him counted. He waited several seconds, huffed, and took a tiny step forward as the battle shifted in the Avatar’s favour. Was that a sign that he should side with his sister? That she was right when she said she couldn’t do it without him?

The banished prince gasped silently; a fierce pain having stolen his breath. He fell to his knees heavily, the noise easily muffled by the sounds of combat and yelling echoing around the cavern. A pulse of pain forced him onto all fours, eyes wide as his heart pounded. Another pulse, the most agonising one yet, made him curl up instinctively as though to protect most of the soft spots his body had in one attempt.

His eyes were scrunched tightly shut and his breathing was reduced to tiny, ragged pants, making him feel light-headed and dizzy. It felt like the tunnel was spinning wildly around him even though he knew he was lying on the ground.

As fast as the pain came, it ebbed away.

Zuko blinked, cautiously uncurling onto all fours. He scrambled back to the tunnel exit, looking into the cavern.

Azula was still losing. It was slow, but sure. Maybe the pain had been a sign. A very big, very crude sign. But for what? To side with or against his sister? He felt no closer to an answer. He both felt and heard footsteps behind him and his head whipped around.

It was Uncle, standing there staring at him as though he were some strange spirit.

“Do not take this the wrong way,” Iroh said, hands clasped in front of his stomach in a way that prevented quick Firebending, “but do not let the young female Firebender in the cavern see you. She is very skilled, so I beg of you to leave this place as quickly as you can. I am going to help the Avatar. The female Firebender is crazy and needs to be stopped. Do not let yourself be captured.”

His uncle stepped past him and jumped into the fray, prompting the Dai Li to aid Azula. The fight was now far more even for the moment. But Zuko was only half paying attention to the fight. His uncle said many strange things, most of which went right over Zuko’s head, loathe though he was to admit it sometimes. It made him feel a bit stupid. But that had been especially strange, even for his uncle. He got the gist of the message though: Uncle didn’t think he could face Azula. He didn’t want to team up with the Avatar and his Waterbender, but he would show Uncle that he was not afraid of Azula! She may have captured him before and tossed him down here, but that didn’t mean she would capture him again! If he could face her without the Dai Li interfering then he had a chance.

Zuko leapt from the tunnel, landing a little less gracefully than he planned.

His uncle was on his right, as was the Avatar and several Dai Li agents. Azula was on his left. The Waterbender was almost in front of him, quickly headed to his left on a wave of water, aiming right for Azula.

Before he could decide what move to make, the young Avatar exclaimed, “A dragon!” in a happy, awed tone.

A dragon? Where? His uncle had killed the last one. It was that fact, alongside his fire breath technique, that granted him the title of Dragon of the West. The Avatar was looking in his direction, a giant grin plastered on his face. Zuko looked behind him on both sides but could see nothing except the rocky cavern interior and the numerous clumps of bright, glowing crystals that were everywhere down here.

He turned his attention back to the battle, wondering what the bald little monk was playing at. Perhaps he was hallucinating. Maybe there was a spirit dragon in here. The Avatar could see spirits, right?

Iroh blasted back two agents and turned to Zuko, dark amber eyes wide and full of fear and concern. “No, get out of here!” his gruff voice called almost desperately.

While he was grateful to see his uncle cared, the lack of faith in his skills rankled.

“No! I can do this!” he yelled back in defiance.

Strange growls and roars reverberated around the cavern, bouncing back and forth off the walls and crystals. Everyone stopped what they were doing, even Azula and the Dai Li, to stare at Zuko.

His little sister appeared shocked, but she quickly pulled herself together, a crafty gleam entering her cold, calculating gaze. “Well, well, what have we here?” she said loftily. She took one step forward in his direction, like a predator stalking her prey. “So small. But a trophy is a trophy, and I’ve always wanted to carry on this family tradition! Even underground, in the heart of the Earth Kingdom, the sun smiles upon me!”

She grinned and shot a huge burst of bright blue fire right at him.

Zuko tried to get in the right stance to deflect or dissipate the flames, but his body would not obey, his limbs responsive but with garbled signals. The flames were only a few feet away when he gasped, crouched down, ducked his head and tried to curl up to minimise his surface area. He could feel the heat and see flickers of blue through his closed eyelids, his mind flashing to memories of the Agni Kai against his father.

Burned by another family member.

The heat and colour passed. There was no pain this time. Surely he wasn’t that lucky. Was he dead?

No, he could hear Uncle shouting angrily and the sound of fire blasts a short distance away. The Avatar was also yelling angrily, which was just confusing. Why would the monk be angry over Azula attacking her older brother? It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen it happen before, nor should he care since they were enemies.

Zuko opened his eyes. He blinked, bewildered to still find nothing but darkness in his view. He shifted, trying to see if another angle would help, when his shoulders flexed and his view was suddenly unobstructed, like the curtains of a palanquin being parted. He froze, tensing every muscle, and the curtains froze as well, now blocking his side views like blinkers on an ostrich-horse.

“Hey, are you okay?” asked the Avatar, dashing to a stop only a couple of feet away. “Your wings didn’t get burnt, did they?”

The Airbender was moving his upper half here and there, craning to look at each of the things blocking the sides of his vision. Zuko could have sworn he just heard the Avatar ask if his wings were fine. His wings . Zuko did not have wings.

Zuko looked over at the obstruction to his right. It was easier to get a better view with his good eye. It looked much like the typical structure of any winged creature that was part bat, with long skeletal fingers ribbed with a membrane. He flexed his right shoulder experimentally, willing the wing to extend. It did.

Zuko had wings.

That dragon the Avatar was yelling about… The strange things his uncle said… Azula speaking of a trophy…

The banished prince gulped quietly and turned his face down, spotting scaly arms ending in sharp, wicked looking claws that were digging into the earth as he tensed again in panic. He jerked his head back up, meeting the Avatar’s gaze. The monk was starting to look concerned, a light frown furrowing his tattooed brow.

“Whoa, hey, are you hurt? You should get out of here and avoid that crazy girl with the blue fire,” the Avatar said, worry present in every syllable he uttered.

The teen could feel his right eye twitch. He was a dragon. That pain he’d experienced must have been a transformation and his uncle had stumbled across a dragon, completely unaware it was his very own nephew. Now here was the Avatar, worried over his wellbeing, while his sister was trying to kill him and bring his carcass back to Father as a trophy in the honoured tradition of dragon slaying his great-grandfather Sozin had started.

This is a really big sign, universe. I’m not sure if I should thank you or not, he thought, bordering on hysteria.

Chapter Text

Iroh could not keep up with his niece. He had more experience, but she was faster and far more agile. The Waterbender helped when she could, but she was hard-pressed to fend off the Dai Li agents that were still able to fight, especially as the Avatar had abandoned the battle to check on the small dragon that had entered the cavern and instantly become a target for Princess Azula.

It must be quite young judging from the size. The poor thing may very well be the last juvenile dragon left in the world. Iroh wondered if Ran and Shaw knew about the fledgling. He couldn’t let Azula kill it, no matter what.

One of the Dai Li managed to get past the Waterbender and attacked Iroh, forcing him to give ground. He couldn’t deal with Azula and a Dai Li agent. The Earthbender was thrown back, crashing into a cavern wall.

The Avatar, hands outstretched in an Airbending stance, gave him a firm nod before sending an air wave slicing towards Azula. Iroh didn’t want to lose the newfound opportunity and attacked in tandem, trying his best to keep the girl from regaining her root. The two gained a few feet of ground before Azula spun around on a hand, her feet whipping around in a wide circle, trailing massive gouts of blue flame.

The two were forced back, losing several seconds as they defended. Azula smirked as four more Dai Li appeared, fresh and ready to fight. She drew a breath and began to circle her fingers, crackling energy sparking to life in their wake. Her arm shot out, two fingers pointing at the dragon’s torso. A crackle, sizzle and a constrained boom sounded deafening in the cavern and the light was searingly bright.

Zuko tried to duck and roll out of the way, his wings snapping up to shield his face again as he lurched to the side. The lightning sped forward so fast, partly hitting his left wing and snaking beyond to hit something else that sent burning pain lancing near his legs and right up his spine. He yelped, the sound high-pitched and embarrassing, and fell down, half of his body twitching and spasming uncontrollably in the dirt. His ears rang loudly, but he could hear muffled shouting and faint thuds.

“No!” Iroh screamed, redoubling his efforts against the Earthbenders to get to his niece. Dragons were immune to fire, but not to lightning. Seeing the fledgling writhing in pain made him angry, scared, and even more determined.

Aang was horrified at seeing the dragon struck. He whirled with a cry and thrust a pillar of earth at the princess. He knew she would dodge and was ready with a powerful gust of air. It caught her mid-leap and blew her away, but she twisted around to land on the wall feet first, catching herself on a crystal with one hand. With a brief reprieve from her participation, Aang quickly used a mix of air and water against the Dai Li.

The princess slid down the wall and swiftly began circling her fingers again. Her uncle, the Waterbender, and the Avatar were all occupied by the Dai Li. Her fingers extended and the power was released, a violent branched line of fatality. Something struck her at that moment, knocking her to the side. The lightning changed direction as well, striking the Avatar in his outstretched forearm instead of the middle of his back.

The Waterbender cried out as the Avatar fell, twitching and shaking like the dragon had before. Iroh looked just as horrified by the results of the second lightning strike as the first. Azula regained her footing and looked across to see who had assaulted her.

The dragon stood there, wobbling slightly, spasms wracking its frame. It glared at her, panting heavily for a moment, before it turned sharply, its tail slashing around. She jumped it, but could not avoid the wing, the one that hadn’t been struck, that followed, hitting her torso with surprising force.

Azula staggered back but recovered quickly. She snarled, more viciously than any noise or expression the dragon had made. Her fingers sparked a third time, and the dragon lurched jerkily as though to knock her over again. It didn’t seem to move very smoothly, nor did it look overly coordinated.

A veritable wall of fire came between them. The old, retired general had hustled the other two over to a waterfall. He waved a hand at the dragon, beckoning it to follow, and began retreating backwards, keeping up suppressive fire. No Earthbenders were interfering and a glance showed all of the Dai Li lying scattered around the cavern.

Zuko’s gaze went from his sister to his uncle before a wingtip entered his peripheral vision.

Of course, the sign he’d asked for. It did make the decision easier. Zuko gave his sister one last glare before awkwardly running to the waterfall. His gait was uneven, and he almost tripped several times, unused to the dimensions of his transformed limbs. His long neck, tail and wings also threw him off, but he managed to join the Waterbender who was half-carrying the injured Avatar.

“Go, get out of here!” Iroh shouted. “I’ll hold her off as long as I can!”

Zuko stared at the elderly figure. “What? Uncle, no! You have to come with us,” he pleaded. Only a dull, yowling roar was heard by everyone else.

The Avatar lifted his head. “Come and curl around us,” he said weakly.

The Firebender complied, twining his sinuous length around the young pair as best as he could without touching them. The girl twirled her free arm, and the water rose beneath them, buoying them up the waterfall and through a hole in the cavern roof. Zuko felt his scales scraping the tunnel walls and he curled up tighter, wincing at the physical contact. This was beyond awkward.

After a time, they were above ground once more. It didn’t take long for the Avatar’s sky bison to appear, already carrying a handful of passengers. The Waterbender carried the Avatar onto the bison’s back, to join the young Earthbender Zuko had briefly met while fighting his sister in an abandoned town. There was a man wearing fancy Earth Kingdom clothes and a large bear-type animal wearing a green shirt and tiny hat with a string under its chin. The one with the boomerang was riding on the bison’s head, a piece of rope in his hands slung between its horns.

Zuko lingered on the ground, eyeing the bison and the already crowded space sceptically.

The monk leaned over the bison’s back. “No, no, you have to come with us,” he said in a matter-of-fact way. “Can you fly?”

That was an interesting question. He had wings and he knew dragons could fly from old stories and paintings. Could he fly?

Zuko concentrated on his shoulders, trying to rotate them in movements he’d seen countless birds perform. His right wing extended and moved with slow but smooth motions. His left wing would not fully extend and after half a rotation it spasmed and seized, making him gasp at the pain.

“All right, everyone to the middle of Appa’s back!” the Avatar ordered. “Sorry, I don’t know your name, but you can come up now and curl around all of us. It’ll be a tight fit, but we can do it.”

One tattooed hand made a come here gesture and Zuko felt a flash of anger mixed with shame. Here he was, with people who were meant to be his enemies, feeling demeaned like some exotic pet. To be fair, the Avatar had been speaking to him like he wasn’t some mindless beast, but he had no idea about the others. He would go along with this as he might never be turned back to normal if he ignored the universe’s sign. If anyone could help him change back it would be the bridge to the Spirit World.

Zuko carefully walked up the bison’s broad, flattish tail, trying not to dig his claws in. He reached the group and slunk around, brushing his scales as close to them as he dared. He did not want to find out if some weird dragon instinct would enable him to at least glide to safety if he fell off the great shaggy thing hundreds of feet in the air. Knowing his luck, he would simply plummet and splatter below, wings or no wings.

“Yip yip!” said the driver. The bison took off and quickly ascended.

The Firebender’s tail tip flicked, sending a tuft of hair at the end swaying. It was fairly cold up here; how did they stand to travel like this so often? There was no way he was going to try any of his usual methods of keeping warm. He had no idea how to Firebend as a dragon and he didn’t want to set their transport on fire.

They weren’t flying for long when they began to descend. Zuko risked a peek and saw some sort of beach where smallish boats and tents of greys, whites and blues were set up. It was very obviously Water Tribe and Zuko discreetly tried to press himself into the bison’s fur as they touched down gently on the sand. He’d never heard of either Water Tribe hunting dragons, but he didn’t want to trust his luck.

Everyone else scrambled off, even Fancy Clothes and his weird pet. Zuko decided to stay where he was if the bison wasn’t going to protest. Surely no one would attack him if he was on the Avatar’s animal companion. They wouldn’t want to risk angering the Avatar, right? He angled his head just enough to follow the young monk and saw them meet a man who immediately moved to hug the Waterbender and her brother, being careful of the monk they were both supporting.

He frowned, unable to make out what they were saying as they were speaking in low, hurried tones. The boy let go of the Avatar and waved his hands emphatically, one of them gesturing in his direction. Zuko tried to sink lower, but he knew he probably had visible horns sticking up.

“Excuse me,” the Avatar called, “can you come down here, please?”

Zuko’s frown deepened, and he didn’t budge.

“Please,” said a man’s voice. “I only wish to see you and then see if my daughter can heal you along with the Avatar. You were both struck by lightning and I only want to help however I can. I give you my word as Chief of the Southern Water Tribe that none of my people will harm you, great dragon,” he said slowly, bordering on reverence at the end.

They were pretty words. The sort of thing Azula would say, but sounding far less like honey designed to trap a fly despite that. It was such a strange sensation. Zuko cautiously slunk off the bison, which obligingly laid down to make things easier. He warily stepped forward, using most of his concentration not to stumble over his limbs. He stopped a respectable distance away, close enough to sprint back to the bison if needed and watched.

The chief took in the sight of an actual living dragon. The eyes were a bright, molten gold and they stood out against the contrast of its black scales. Its underbelly was not black, but an incredibly dark shade of yellow like shadowed gold. Its mane, starting as a few wispy tufts on the face, went all the way down its back to flare out in a tuft at the tip of its whip-like tail. The mane was a few shades lighter than the underbelly, while the wing membranes glinted a faint gold when the light hit them just right. Its claws and teeth were a bright, healthy white and were quite intimidating.

He cleared his throat. “Where were you hit?” he asked, serious yet polite.

Zuko glanced at his left wing and moved it automatically, grimacing when he realised what he’d done. His tail curled around, under his wing, and flicked up and down, as if to make sure he knew it was struck too. His tail did not stop, and he slammed a front paw down on it, hissing in pain as his limbs connected and the nerves in his tail zinged in a most unpleasant manner.

Nerves he wasn’t supposed to have technically speaking.

An amused smile crossed the Avatar’s face, even as his eyes still conveyed concern, and Zuko wanted to smack himself in the face surprisingly more than he wanted to hit the kid’s face. Spirits, this was humiliating.

“I can try a healing session after I work on Aang,” the Waterbender said. She watched him carefully, looking wary but sincere.

The Firebender weighed the pros and cons. Who knew how much damage the lightning had actually done? Who knew when or if he would recover? He wasn’t sure about the tail, but he definitely wanted his left wing working so he could learn to fly. It would be an invaluable skill while he was stuck as a fire-breathing lizard. He nodded hesitantly, taken aback by the genuinely warm smile he got in return.

“I don’t think you’ll fit in the tent,” the chief said, hand on his chin. “If you don’t mind waiting here for Katara, I’ll wait with you.”

Zuko simply nodded, happier to be outside the confines of an enemy tent in case he needed to make a break for it. Katara, that was her name. He was glad someone said it, now he just had to remember it, along with the Avatar’s name; Aang. He’d have the full set engraved in his mind when the other boy’s name was revealed.

He sat, awkwardly, feeling like an oversized kitten with the body of a stretched noodle. Knowing their names wouldn’t do the tiniest bit of good while they couldn’t understand him. Any attempt to hold a conversation would result in a cacophony of growls, snarls, roars, and any other animalistic noise dragons were capable of producing. He wasn’t exactly keen on finding out the ranges of his new vocal cords.

The wait was not as long as he’d feared. Either that or he was zoning out big time and had lost all sense of time. Katara looked...tired but pleased. Perhaps the Avatar... Aang’s injuries were not as bad as everyone had thought. He almost smiled, if his muzzle was even able to do such a thing, at the thought that it meant he, too, would be fully healed in short order.

Katara’s eyes roamed over his form. “It was your left wing and tail, yes?”

He savagely suppressed a snort, just in case he accidentally produced flames, and nodded slowly and clearly. Zuko scrutinised her closely as she walked up to his injured wing and flicked open the cap of her waterskin that rested at her hip. A few fluid movements and her hands were covered in water like the strangest pair of gloves he’d ever seen. She hesitated.

“I’ve never tried healing anyone or anything besides humans before, so I just want to apologise in advance if this doesn’t quite work out the way we want it to,” she said, her tone slightly self-deprecating.

That was pretty admirable of her to confess, especially to what, in her eyes, was a fearsome beast. He may not like her, but he could respect her. He stretched his left wing out as far as he could before the pain made him hiss and grit his fangs. He ducked his head so she, and the chief, wouldn’t think he was threatening her.

Her water-coated hands touched his wing membrane and it was all Zuko could do not to flinch or pull back. It was such a strange feeling. It was surprisingly sensitive given he hadn’t felt any of the fire that had made an impact with the tissue. A gentle glow caught the corner of his eye, and he tilted his head so he could see what she was doing.

As a Firebender - the enemy - he’d only seen Waterbending used in combat. He hadn’t even known it could heal in the first place. A vague memory surfaced of her saying she could help, weeks ago as he kneeled next to the injured body of his uncle, after that fierce and frantic battle with Azula that others kept butting into. Only now did he realise what she’d meant. She had wanted to heal him with her Waterbending.

How much easier and better would things have been if he’d only listened? Uncle wouldn’t have suffered so much for so long.

But no, he’d driven her, and all of her friends, away with his harsh voice and flames.

Zuko would have to make it up to him somehow. He’d find a way to get Uncle a decent tea set and a nice selection of teas the next time they met up. And when he could actually attend a market and speak to the merchants without scaring people senseless and inviting hunters. Well...dragon hunters. He was used to bounty hunters after all. He’d even sit with his uncle and enjoy a cup as best he could, knowing it made the old man happy to make tea for others and just spend time together.

He drew the line at Pai Sho though. There was no way he was going to suffer through a game of that, no matter how much his uncle might enjoy it.

Maybe.

He’d think about it later.

He could feel a soothing trickle spreading throughout his wing, easing the ache he’d been doing his best to ignore. The little spasms quieted down, and he gently spread his wing a bit further under her hands, happy to find the pain dulled to a tolerable shadow of what it had been.

The soothing sensation didn’t last anywhere near as long as he’d like as Katara drew her hands back, the water losing its glow as she did.

“It will take another session or two to heal completely,” she stated. “It should feel better though. Does it?”

Zuko extended his wing fully and carefully flapped it. It still hurt, but it was much improved as was his range of motion. He nodded absently, oblivious to the awe on her face and the calculating glint in her father’s eyes.

“Now for your tail,” she said, stepping further down his body to reach the tufted appendage.

He twitched, his tail flicking up and away from her hands before he knew what he’d done. He winced, claws digging into the beach sand as he subdued the urge to smack his own face in a mix of embarrassment and exasperation.

Katara put her hands on her hips and stared at him, one eyebrow raised, making him duck his head a little. “Hold still please,” she requested politely.

She was very nice when not on the opposite side of the battlefield. Chagrined, Zuko focused on bringing his tail back into her reach and keeping it there. It was harder than he’d imagined as some unknown whisper in his head kept urging him not to let his tail be caught. The whisper became a roar as her water-coated hands touched the scales of his tail.

His head and torso jerked violently, but he kept his tail still. He screwed his eyes shut and hissed softly as the healing felt like the most unusual torture session he’d ever heard of or experienced.

“There, it’s done,” she announced after an indefinable amount of time.

“Back away, Katara, and give our guest some space,” came the chief’s voice. It was an order, plain and simple, and the authoritative tone was not to be ignored.

Hakoda watched as the dragon endured some strange internal struggle while Katara had the creature’s tail. His worry for his daughter increased the longer she had the tail as there was no telling if the dragon would suddenly snap, turning around and crunching his daughter in half. This dragon might be a young one, but it was still relatively large, and those claws and fangs could deal irreparable damage. He let out a breath of relief as his daughter heeded his words and moved out of the dragon’s immediate range.

Zuko took several slow, deliberate breaths as his mind calmed down now the touch on his tail was gone. Was that a dragon thing? He just didn’t know enough about dragons in general. Much information had been lost as the dragons were hunted to extinction and the prince felt a flare of bitter hatred towards his family for doing such a thing in the first place.

That pulled him up short.

He was supposed to love his family. Or, at the very least, remain steadfastly loyal. Oh, he kind of broke that one already, huh? Well, he was still loyal to his uncle and Uncle was definitely family! So, he hadn’t really broken that one after all.

Yeah, no, that wasn’t right. As a banished prince, Azula had authority over him despite being younger. He should’ve helped her, sided with her, no questions asked. Even despite all that she’d put him through, he should remain loyal to the royal family as the rulers of his nation if not as his blood family.

This was why he’d asked for a sign in the first place and see where that got him.

He forced himself to look up and give the girl, Katara, a grateful nod. His sharp eyes caught the relief her father displayed as his shoulders lowered a fraction and his eyes lightened. Had he done something while he was zoned out?

Zuko really needed to get a handle on things. It had never been his forte, he winced internally, but he couldn’t keep going around blindly as a dragon, with all of these weird impulses and reactions. He didn’t think he could convince the Avatar to help him if he hurt one of the monk’s friends, accidentally or not.

If he could even communicate his plight in the first place. Aang clearly did not speak the tongue of dragons and Zuko was unable to speak any human language in this form. Unless there was a trick or some magic to it that he simply didn’t know.

“I am afraid we can offer you no shelter for the night,” Chief Hakoda said, drawing Zuko from his thoughts. “Our tents are too small for you. I am sorry.”

Zuko shook his head, absently waving his wings a bit, and patted the sand with a clawed paw. He would honestly rather not be confined in a small space, alleged allies or not. It just didn’t sit right with him. Out here, under the wide-open sky, was perfectly fine.

The chief appeared to get the message. “I bid you a good night, noble dragon,” he said with a bow. He clapped his daughter on the shoulder and walked off.

“I should get to bed too, it’s been a long day,” Katara said wearily. “I’ll try another healing session tomorrow. Goodnight.” With a more delicate-looking bow than her father had displayed, she also walked away, back into the tent Aang had been taken to.

Zuko was now more or less alone on the beach, save for the bison. A spark of an idea hit him, and he made his wobbly, uncoordinated way over to the large, six-legged, furry being. He stopped a short distance in front of the bison’s face and stood there, feeling like an idiot as he cleared his throat.

“Hello, Zuko here,” he said awkwardly.

The bison merely snorted, ruffling his mane and the wisps of hair on his face.

“Yeah, I suppose it was a long shot,” he muttered in defeat. His wings slumped along with his shoulders, neck and head.

“I already knew,” rumbled a deep voice.

Chapter Text

There were moments in life that were unforgettable. Everyone experienced them. Whether they were happy moments, sad ones, painful, or something born of a once in a lifetime experience, everyone had at least one memory they would carry forever.

For Zuko, this was one of those moments.

It even managed to outrank the memory of him discovering his new form.

He sat there, lower jaw hanging wide open, staring at the giant flying bison in shock.

“You knew?” he parroted incredulously, staring avidly at Appa.

“You smell the same,” said the deep voice.

Yes, Zuko decided, that really was the flying bison speaking to him. He was a dragon. He growled and roared now. He was sitting on a beach right beside a whole fleet of Water Tribe warriors. He was having a conversation with the Avatar’s animal companion. This was happening. This was his reality now.

“Why didn’t you say anything before now?” Zuko asked, his draconic face looking fierce as he frowned.

“Didn’t know I needed to,” Appa said blithely.

Zuko growled in frustration. “I don’t suppose you know how I could turn back into a human?” he inquired irately.

The bison huffed, the large puff of air catching slightly in Zuko’s wings. “The same way you changed the first time, but backwards,” he said slowly, eyelids drooping.

The Firebender opened his mouth, ready to yell at the creature, but stopped. He closed his jaw with an audible click of teeth and breathed out slowly, only partly surprised by the wafts of smoke that accompanied it. He’d been able to breathe out smoke for many months now as a human, so seeing it happen when he was in the form of a naturally fire breathing creature was only a logical step.

The bison may very well be the last flying bison left in the world. He was the companion of the current Avatar. Did that mean he was wise? Apparently not. He wasn’t a spirit after all, just an animal. To be fair, it wasn’t completely unreasonable logic.

Now that he had his sign from the universe, perhaps he could simply thank them and ask for it to be reversed? Surely it would be better for the Avatar if his newest ally could actually move properly, let alone fight, and communicate? His uncle always said proper communication was very important, whether it was with body language or words.

Alright universe, I got your sign, and I heeded it. I know my path from here is to help the Avatar. That will be a lot easier to do if you change me back to my normal, human self. Uh…thank you for speaking with me, he thought, directing his mental words towards the vast cosmic energies, and praying that they were still in a listening mood.

Zuko waited. And waited. He shuffled around, trying not to look anxious in front of the large bison. He glanced down, dismayed to find scaled forepaws tipped with talons. Apparently, the universe was no longer paying attention to one banished member of the Fire Nation’s royal family. That was unfortunate though not unexpected.

“Your idea didn’t work,” he grumbled at Appa.

“Then you need to fly into the storm clouds instead of the clear sky…” the bison muttered sleepily.

Oh great, the Avatar’s bison was a huge, furry, six-legged version of Uncle. At least flying bison were incapable of brewing tea and playing Pai Sho.

He was going to lose his mind at this rate. If he hadn’t already.

Maybe this whole thing was just one big fever dream he needed to sleep off. Yeah, that was it. Zuko snorted, wisps of smoke leaving his nose, and walked a few feet away. He slowly laid down, following his body’s urges to curl up. His tail tip ended up draped over his snout, obscuring his vision, but it was far too comfortable that way for him to bother moving it. Reptilian eyes closed and it took almost no time at all for sleep to claim his weary body and soul.

Knives of lightning came at him relentlessly, from every angle, forcing him to keep moving and dodging. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide, nowhere to escape. Despair began to set in at the hopelessness of this seemingly endless situation.

The only way this could possibly end was with his death.

Zuko grew more and more tired, inevitably slowing down. The margin the attacks missed him were becoming slimmer. His left calf was hit.

He gasped as pain stabbed into the muscles, sending sparks of agony down to his toes, and up to his lower back. His gait faltered and another bolt of lightning hit his lower ribs on the right side. Sparks arced across his ribs, making his breath hitch as his lung and diaphragm spasmed. His hands flew to his chest as if he could catch the sparks and throw them away. Zuko stumbled, trying to will his body to start running again, to dredge up some energy from an unknown reservoir.

But he was an engine running on fumes. He couldn’t seem to get his feet under him. The knives of lightning continued to rain down, several finding their mark. His whole body twitched, spasmed, and ached. The world was reduced to fire, lightning, and agony, his nerves feeling as though they had been completely burnt out. Limbs no longer obeyed orders, and he gracelessly collapsed, completely at the mercy of his invisible attacker.

Whoever they were, they showed no mercy at all. Zuko could do nothing under the assault. He was beyond glad when his body became numb, unable to feel pain from ruined nerves. Everything became distant, his senses growing fuzzy before failing.

His heart gave a few erratic, beleaguered beats, then fell still. It was the last thing his mind registered before the darkness claimed him entirely.

Zuko woke up instantly. His lungs heaved like bellows as he tried to gulp down all of the oxygen available, while his heart did its best to prove it was still beating, hammering away at his sternum hard and fast, as if trying to break through the bone.

“Whoa, are you okay?”

A young voice broke through his panic, and he was able to focus on the Earthbender girl that travelled with the Avatar. Zuko held in a groan. A child had witnessed him having a nightmare and was trying to now console him. Had he truly sunk so far?

The girl shrugged. “Sorry. It felt like you were fast asleep, then your heart just started going crazy. Is that a dragon thing?” she asked.

He was tempted to stick a claw in his ear and wiggle it about. How could she possibly know what his heart was doing? She was at least a dozen feet away! He couldn’t have heard her right. The dragon shook his head.

“Huh. Well, thanks for helping us against Miss Psycho and her itchy lightning fingers.”

Miss Psycho? What a fitting name for Azula. Zuko couldn’t help but snort in amusement. This little girl clearly had no brain to mouth filter. Or just no manners. She certainly looked like a dirty little urchin.

His heart and lungs were back to normal speeds now. Zuko hoped his next foray into the land of dreams was much less disturbing. It was only then that he took note of his location.

The sun was working on clearing the horizon, its rays showing a sea of blue on either side of the sand, water to his right, Water Tribe to his left. Some men were up and about, but all of them kept a healthy, respectable distance. Right, he was a big, scary dragon. Well, he was a dragon. Azula had called him small, and no one had seemed even the slightest bit intimidated by him, so he had doubts about the scary part too.

A tent flap nearby opened, and the Avatar emerged. He was slowly flexing his left hand, while somewhat cradling that forearm, upon which was a starburst-shaped wound.

Zuko’s left wing and tail tingled in remembered pain. If he hadn’t thrown off Azula’s aim, the last Airbender likely would have departed from this mortal coil last night. It wasn’t the first time he had saved the monk, though it was the first time he had done so without consciously pursuing his own agenda. He stared at the kid.

The banished Fire Prince had been amazed at the Avatar’s age during their first meeting at the South Pole. It had been pushed to the back of his mind ever since, but now the fact had resurfaced to stare him right in the face. The fate of the world rested on the shoulders of a child.

The thought of the Avatar facing the Fire Lord was a given. The thought of a child, not yet a teenager, facing down an adult, facing Ozai, no matter what power they held, did not mesh nearly as well, like a spanner between cogs.

“I wondered when you’d get up, Twinkletoes,” said the girl.

“Good morning, Toph,” Aang replied, his tone indulgent.

Just like a sibling. The girl, Toph, seemed to be fond of nicknames. His life would have been more fun with a little sister that didn’t use nicknames in a hateful, mocking way.

“Good morning to you too, Mister Dragon. Wait, are you a mister?” asked Aang. Concern and intrigue painted the monk’s face, and his grey eyes scanned Zuko’s draconic form as if the answer would leap out at him.

Zuko nodded and the boy looked relieved. A low roar rumbled over the sands, and he looked around to see the bison yawning. The Avatar ran over to his animal companion and started lavishing affection upon the beast. Something touched his side, and he startled, flinching and flaring his wings.

Chittering met his ears, and the touches moved up his long neck to settle atop his head, tiny hands gripping his horns. A long, thin tail swung into view. The Avatar’s lemur. What was it doing? He was not a tree. Dragons did not even remotely resemble trees. Its instincts should peg Zuko as a nasty predator to avoid, not a fun object to climb.

He stayed in place, wondering if he should shake the critter off and discourage such behaviour from being repeated, or leave it alone to try and foster trust with the Avatar. The teen was sure the Avatar was his key to transforming back into a human, and there was plenty of bad blood between them already. He was banking on the monk being the forgiving sort. He had already extended an olive branch to the Firebender once, hopefully he would do so again.

Zuko was on the Avatar’s side now. He wasn’t merely banished from the Fire Nation, he was now actively against the Fire Lord, against his father.

The last time he had faced his father on the opposite side had not ended well. A clawed forepaw partially rose to the left side of his face on reflex, the scarred flesh a blatant reminder of the price of opposition, among other things.

Should he really be doing this?

Then again, opposing the universe would likely result in far worse punishment than anything the Fire Lord could manage. So, helping the Avatar was his cosmic duty, which took precedence over family and national duty.

“Momo, you can’t climb all over Mister Dragon like that! He might not like it!” Aang scolded. He curled his fingers, trying to prompt the lemur away from his current perch, eyeing the dragon warily.

Momo looked at Aang, chittered for a moment, and petted Zuko’s mane.

Zuko was careful to try and relax, pointedly allowing the lemur to remain. It was harder than expected – the urge to shake the small critter off was strong. Part of him wanted nothing more than to turn his head and look at the flying lemur but doing that would achieve absolutely nothing since the beast would move with his head.

The camp came alive as time went on. Water Tribe men went up and down the beach, carrying this and checking on that. The two kids stayed close. Toph idly created a shape with sand, only to destroy it and create a new one, while Aang found a rock. He sat in the lotus position and began to meditate.

Meditating sounded quite alluring right now. Zuko could use some peace and balance, but how did one meditate as a winged reptile? Breathing was easy – it worked the same in his new body – but how should he sit? What was proper posture for a dragon?

He sighed and stretched, forepaws pushing into the sand, claws unconsciously kneading the grains. His head tilted a bit to one side as the lemur clung to one horn. Thoughts of meditation were pointless while a creature was using him as a climbing post though. How did the Avatar put up with such a distraction?

Zuko lowered his head to the ground, tilting it almost completely sideways, to try and prompt the lemur to get off. The weight attached to his horn didn’t budge an inch. “Please get off,” he muttered.

“No,” said a somewhat high-pitched voice. “Stay.”

Zuko froze. He blinked. Now he could understand the lemur language. He let his head hit the sand, his long body following like a string dropped to the ground. The dragon groaned, the noise sounding like a scratchy growl.

“Did Momo take down the dragon?” asked Toph.

“No,” said Aang, “but I’m glad he’s not roasted lemur at least.”

“So, the dragon is friendly to our side. Or he has no taste for flying lemur. Or he has an amazing amount of patience and restraint. Pick one,” said Toph. “Heck, pick more than one.”

“I wish we knew his name,” the Avatar said with a sigh.

“Can’t you do some weird spirit stuff to talk to it?”

Zuko moved his head enough to see the Water Tribe boy. He was staring at Aang with an oddly sceptical expression.

“You said Roku’s spirit dragon communicated with you. Just do the same thing with this one,” the boy said with a shrug.

That was news to the prince. He knew the Avatar had spoken to the long dead Avatar Roku, but nothing about the former Avatar’s dragon.

Was there a way for him to speak with Aang as a giant, winged lizard? Actually with him, not at him. Excitement and nervousness flooded him in equal measure, battling for control of his mind and muscles. He lifted his head, lemur and all, and stared intensely at the bald monk.

Aang was staring back. His grey eyes were wide, his mouth slack and partially open. His mouth shut with a gentle click, and he hummed thoughtfully. The bald head tilted one way, then the other, as fingers came up to caress his equally bald chin.

“Well?” prompted Sokka.

“I didn’t do anything, though,” Aang said, tone somewhat helpless. “The dragon extended a whisker and touched me here,” a quick tap to the arrow on his forehead, “and then I saw a bunch of images. It wasn’t talking like we’re doing now. But, yeah, it was the dragon that did it.”

Zuko had to frown at that. He’d been excited about this possible avenue, only for that excitement to screech to a halt because a huge metal barrier, a dozen feet thick, was slammed in place by the Avatar’s words. If communication could be established, even if it was only images, Zuko wanted to try. Yet the ability rested on his reptilian shoulders, and he had absolutely no clue how to even start.

He twitched his snout, trying to move the long, thin whiskers that hung from it. Were there whisker muscles? If there were, he couldn’t feel them. He couldn’t move what he couldn’t feel. Zuko flared his wings slightly, dug his claws into the sand, and wiggled his tail. All of his other foreign muscles responded. Perhaps there was some trick to it that he just needed to figure out.

Dragons were not a regular animal, like a platypus bear or a turtle duck. No, they were special among the animal kingdom, much like flying bison and badger moles, because they were natural benders, the only ones aside from humans.

Was the whisker thing a dragon ability, or a spirit dragon ability?

Zuko was always a slow learner. Azula and his father never failed to remind him, after all. Never before had he cursed that fact more than he did at this moment. If Azula was in this position, she would already have mastered every ability a dragon could possess. She would probably even breathe blue fire.

Not that his sister would ever end up in such a situation in the first place.

No, such messes were reserved for the untalented failure of the royal family. All of the bad luck the royal children accrued had to go somewhere and, as the eldest, Zuko supposed it was his job to shoulder that burden, to protect his younger sibling.

There were times when he wished that Azula had to struggle, as he has, even just for a day. To make her care about more than the throne, their father’s praise and approval, her bending abilities. Did she even truly care about her two friends?

“Mister Dragon?”

Zuko jerked his head back. When had the monk gotten so close? He blinked dumbly at the boy.

“Did you want to give it a try?” asked Aang.

Yes. Yes, he did. But no matter how he contorted his face, he couldn’t get his whiskers to move even the slightest bit.

“If you need to sneeze, don’t aim at me!” said Sokka.

Zuko gave a brief growl and shook his head.

“You don’t need to sneeze, or you don’t want to try?” Aang asked, now looking confused.

“Both,” he grumbled. Trying to convey things was hard, even when he could clearly nod for yes and shake for no. Or maybe it was simply him and his skills for failing at things.

Toph walked over and punched Aang’s arm, making the boy flinch and rub the spot while pouting. “You guys are hopeless,” she flatly stated. “You gotta ask one question at a time. Hey, Scales, you gotta sneeze?”

Scales? Not the most original name but not the worst. How was this tiny, rough spoken, blind girl the smartest member of their team? Zuko shook his head, the lemur now quiet but still clinging to his horn.

“You wanna give the communicating a try?”

He nodded.

Toph nodded back. “There, easy as that.”

Aang’s smile lit up not only his face, but his entire body somehow. He began to bounce up and down on the balls of his feet. “Yes! Let’s do this!”

The dragon willed his body to do what the Avatar had described, to reach out, to communicate, to follow his wishes. He even sent a quick prayer to the universe. Nothing happened.

The bouncing stopped. “Do you… not know how?”

Zuko could do nothing but nod reluctantly.

“Maybe he’s too young?” pondered the Water Tribe boy.

Ah. The prince hadn’t thought of that. Perhaps it was an ability dragons acquired as they matured. Dragons lived longer than humans, didn’t they? While sixteen was close to being an adult in human terms, it was possible that in dragon terms he was still firmly considered a young child. He may not be old enough to communicate outside of his natural vocal range. He may not even be old enough to fly – he couldn’t test it with a lightning damaged wing. Zuko tilted his head toward Sokka, acquiescing the point.

Aang hummed then slowly reached out with his uninjured right arm. “I could try,” he said.

Let the Avatar touch his face? His scarred, most vulnerable spot? Well, second most considering he was a male. The Water Tribe girl, Katara, had done so, but that had been a strange moment overall. The Avatar had been his enemy for so long, way before they had met, that a non-violent, non-combative touch didn’t seem like a remotely viable option despite the fact that it had already happened. His eyes caught sight of the singed hole the lightning had made in the monk’s left sleeve.

Right, the Avatar was no longer his enemy. Zuko tried not to clench his fang-filled jaw as he lowered his head, eyes automatically snapping shut as his mind registered the hand coming straight at his face. Aang is not the Fire Lord. Aang won’t hurt me.

A soft touch and a tiny warmth registered on what felt like the bridge of his nose. He opened his eyes. Aang looked amazed, though concern was also present, his small had gentle and feather-light.

“You’re so warm,” the boy said, not quite a whisper.

Everyone was warm, especially a Firebender. If the Avatar was surprised by such a mundane thing, Zuko feared for the side he had newly joined. He did his best to convey how unimpressed he was by that statement.

“I know, please don’t judge me,” Aang said sheepishly. “Now, let me concentrate.” His eyes closed and his breathing pattern changed.

Zuko watched in anticipation, waiting for something to happen. Would the arrow tattoos glow? Would he feel anything? Maybe he should be reaching out again – try and meet the Avatar halfway. He let his eyes slide shut and he focused on Aang’s hand. Images he wanted to share filled his mind. Uncle’s warning, fighting Azula, his human hands replaced by clawed forepaws, a candle, the tea shop he and Uncle worked at, the Earth Kingdom farmers he’d tried to help, Uncle ill from that stupid flower he’d thought he could make tea with, all of them teaming up against Azula in the ruins, Uncle explaining how redirecting lightning came from Waterbending.

Time seemed to stretch on. Most background noise faded away, leaving only the ocean waves and their breathing.

Aang sighed and stepped away, making him blink. The campsite was now far more active, the sun higher in the sky. They must have been focused for almost an hour. Toph and Sokka were no longer nearby, though Katara was sitting down watching them. Her father, the chief, was just behind her, also watching the tableaux carefully.

“Sorry,” offered the monk quietly.

Zuko shook his head. It wasn’t the kid’s fault. He was the dragon; he should be able to figure this out.

“Ready for more healing?” asked Katara.

Aang walked over to her and wordlessly offered his left arm. The water flask at her hip opened and a stream of water snaked out, enveloping her hand. She laid it over the wound, and it began to glow.

“You’re next,” she said, giving the dragon a glance.

That sounded like a threat from a younger female prodigy. Zuko couldn’t suppress the shiver that wracked his body. She seemed pretty occupied; he could probably duck down and quietly slink away. The sand shifted under his long, smooth underbelly scales, a tiny, unassuming noise.

“Going?” chittered the lemur.

“Be quiet,” Zuko hissed.

“Stay with friends!”

Someone cleared their throat. “Where do you think you’re slinking off to?”

That female tone almost froze the very blood in his veins. His wings shot open, straining forward to hide his head as if that would somehow render him invisible.

“Definitely seems like a baby dragon to me!”

Baby?! He was not a baby! Zuko growled in the direction of the voice.

“Ack! Don’t let it eat me!”

“Then don’t insult him, idiot!”

A sibling spat. That was familiar, though this was much less nasty than he was used to. His wings slowly retreated into their usual folds, a sharp ache in his left wing making him wince as it moved. Lightning damage was no joke, even for a dragon apparently.

“Do you want that wing healed or not?”

Katara sure was scary, in a similar yet completely different manner from Azula. A weight suddenly landed on his spine, making his ribs flex, and he woofed out all of the air in his lungs, a tiny flame and a burst of smoke blowing out as well. His sinuous neck allowed his head to turn all the way around to see what it was. He blinked.

Toph was perched upon him, arms crossed, one leg resting upon the other.

“Now why were you making a break for it? You wanna be healed up as soon as possible, right? If so, let Sugar Queen do her thing,” she said bluntly.

This girl possessed all the finesse of a komodo rhino. Still, she had a point. Why had he tried to essentially escape her? His body drooped, although he was the only one that didn’t notice.

“Come over here, Mister Dragon,” said Aang, patting the sand in front of Katara.

Zuko cleared his throat, a rather intimidating sound from the vocal cords of a dragon and stood up. Part of his torso did not rise as high, and he snorted lightly at the girl still sitting on him. He gave a slight shake. He was no ostrich horse. She got the hint and hopped off, leaving him to walk to Katara in peace.

“Are you sure you should be playing around on him like that?” asked Hakoda. The worry in his voice was evident.

“Momo can, so why can’t I?” Toph shot back.

Zuko nearly snorted embers. The lemur was an unwanted passenger too, one that was simply harder to get rid of. The ache was encased in a soothing coolness, the pain being ebbed away like the tide upon the shore. The urge to flex his wing was nigh unbearable, the sky calling out to him. Is this how the Airbender felt? Aang’s hand rested on his flank and a spark flared to life in his mind, images of wings and an aerial view popping up before the spark vanished.

“You want to fly, huh? I know the feeling,” Aang said sympathetically.

Zuko nodded, his tail swishing. Wait… did they just communicate?