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Hakada would've thought that the prince of the Fire Nation would be...Older.
The boy - boy, a boy, barely older than his own son - is collecting dishes. He's surprisingly graceful, putting each barely-together bowl with the experience of a servant rather than royalty.
Dinner was prepared by him too, apparently, along with Katara. Warm curry calms the ever-present anxiety in his stomach, the tension only beginning to ebb when the hunger stops and he can see his children.
They were grown now. Socka reaches his chest. Bato had been able to bring them ice-dodging. Baby-fat no longer clings to their cheeks. They laugh and poke and prod as they sit around the camp-fire.
He'd never been more proud.
When Kya died, limp on the snow - there had been no blood, only a mess of burns and callouses, she had no longer been his love, his heart - he'd worried that they would never recover. He hadn't been able to care for them, to absorbed in his own grief, something he'd forever regret.
But they did recover. They could now giggle, ugly snort, and joke.
He was so absorbed in watching them that he nearly didn't catch the boy - Zuko, his name was? - hands full of dishes, leaving the room. He hadn't heard a single word from him. Sokka's stories had spinned a fierce boy, endlessly screaming, endlessly emotional- but, out of anyone, he'd been the most calm.
Once he was sure that Zuko was out of ear-shot, he coughed, drawing the children's eyes on him. (Children. The oldest sixteen, expected to save the world.)
"Are you sure that's the prince?"
Sokka chuckled, but Katara's expression hardened. Her eyes, warm as the sun just a second ago, turned as cold as the ice she bendened. He wondered what the story was there. Sure, he'd hunted the Avatar - Aang. A twelve year old. How many children's lives were going to be ruined in this war? - but, from what he'd heard, the boy had never actually hurt anybody.
"I was surprised too. Like, less than a month and now he's as humble as a monk when he was just chasing Aang around? But he's cool. He knows how to use swords!"
Katara glared at Socka's assessment, but Hakoda tilted his head, curious. That was strange. But he'd trust his kids. He had no experience with the boy, while they had almost a year.
"Mhm. And you trust him?"
Honestly, Hakoda did. He seemed awfully sweet. Every day he would help with chores, make tea - tea. Who in the name of Tui and La was teaching the prince how to make tea? - and never once got frustrated when Katara would yell at him and Aang messed up during training.
"Yes-"
Toph surprisingly said. Hakoda, sadly, hadn't been able to talk to the girl. All he knew was that she was an absolute tank of a fighter. Somehow made a whole new bending style? She was a bit manic, and he could respect that. But, from the little he did know, she was awfully attached to the prince. During the few occasions Zuko would actually eat with them, she was pressed against his side, feet in his lap and drawing some of the only true faces he'd seen from the older boy. He, despite himself, was glad the prince had someone looking out for him.
The second the word was out of Toph's mouth, Katara's glare was fixed on her. It would've meant something to her if it wasn't fact for that she was blind, so the girl probably only sensed the sharp head turn. Realizing this, Katara looked back at him. He couldn't help but feel a little put on the spot.
"No. Dad, he when I gave him the opportunity to choose good - which he didn't deserve - he gave it up for his insane sister and even more insane father. He's just playing nice to get close to Aang-"
Said boy, in a surprising motion, groaned and pushed his palms into his eyes. That made everybody stop. Since the conversation started, he'd been silent, quietly observing with a steadily-progressing distressed face. He was just twelve, for Tui and La's sake.
"Can I get a say in this!? Zuko has been nothing but nice. He does more chores than Socka has ever done. And if he isn't good - which I sincerely doubt - he's a good teacher. Better than Jeong-Jeong on any day. I've learned so much firebending! Okay?"
Katara, if she was a fire bender - and wasn't that a thought - would be steaming. Instead, she stood sharply, glare bringing Hakoda's heart to his stomach.
"If you want to associate with an ashmaker, then fine."
Her stomps echoed as she went to her room. Hakoda didn't follow. She would get over it. At the moment, if he tried to communicate, then she would just shut off. He needed to give her space.
Instead, he turned to the kids. Aang looked torn between calling out for Katara and seething. Socka looked equally as frustrated, though there was an understanding in his eyes; Socka, and even Hakoda at some point, had assumed every 'ashmaker' was evil, and they were still going through it.
But this, this was specific. Though he couldn't get more out of her than 'traitor,' and 'ashmaker,' he knew that at some point, Katara had offered to help (heal? She'd said something about being grateful that she didn't waste the oasis water on him,) him, and he'd rejected it, joined Azula - Tui and La was that girl scary, and she was just fourteen - and hurt all of them.
She hoped she would heal.
He sighed.
"But the rest of you trust him? He hasn't hurt any of you since he joined?"
All of them got a little squeamish, and Hakoda's heart dropped to his stomach. Maybe the humble-tea boy shtick was a facade. Maybe Katara was right. Tui and La, he might've been getting angry at her for no reason-
Toph sighed.
"Stop stressing out, old man. He just burned me-"
"What?!"
"Accidentally! These stupid people denied him at first, even though I told them he was being genuine when he said that he wanted to help. So he went out. And I, kind of stupidly, searched for him when he was trying to sleep. And since he grew up with the fucking Fire Lord, he flinched, and burned my feet."
She breathed after being done with her rambling, and he breathed with her. That was a lot, but it made sense. Thankfully, it seemed like she was healed, based on the lack of scars on her heels.
But, arguably most importantly, he learned that Zuko was traumatized. He should've known this; he'd seen soldiers come back from the War with the same eyes Zuko had. The way he was so fine with putting himself in harm's way. The way he'd twitched, closing his eyes for a split second when he saw something out of the corner of his eye instead of flinching.
Something in him twisted at the thought of the boy going through something that made him get lost in shadows the same way grown men coming back from the Fire nation. The incident must've been what caused the huge scar. It was shaped like a hand, the same size as his own-
He nearly gagged.
A man, not a boy, not some random training accident caused it. He actually gagged at the thought of a grown man burning the boy, drawing concerned glances from the children.
It must've been someone high enough to risk hurting him. A wealthy trainer, perhaps? Though that doesn't explain how gently he handled Aang. Maybe he unlearned it, but how could he of done that with nobody outside of the Fire Nation?
From what he could gather from the children and Zuko, the only person in his life for a long time was this 'Uncle.' Iroh? That sounds right. Zuko spinned tales of this amazing, pai-sho playing aged man who taught him all he knew. Who held him when he cried. Who never hurt him even though he 'deserved' it.
Personally, though he would never tell the scarred teen, he thought it was bullshit.
This Iroh didn't do anything to make him stop hunting Aang. He let the prince get into destructive, dangerous scenarios nearly constantly. And, most importantly, he didn't stop him from getting his face burned off.
If he ever met the man, he would be having a serious talk with him.
He cleared his throat, standing. The air was getting claustrophobic, too-vivid images of a young boy's face melting, one who looked far too much like his own son.
"I'm gonna take a walk."
Before Socka could rebuke, he was out of the courtyard, speeding down one of the many empty passage-ways of the temple. It was disconcerting, in a way. Random pipes pushed through the ash stone, damaging aged, sacred rooms. Many areas were caked in a layer of dust, making him cough as he walked. Everything was so... Hollow, despite Aang's stories of a better time.
He reached the cliff of the temple, where the horror finally stopped and all was left was a clear, brilliant blue. And, with legs hanging off the ledge, was Zuko.
He looked even younger like this. Bony arms stood out of deep red robes, which practically hanged off of him. Scars twisted starkly against pale skin, too many marking a boy who wouldn't be allowed to go to war back at home. He couldn't see his face, only seeing raven hair that curled before it could reach his shoulders.
He cleared his throat, seeing in real time as the boy jumped before forcing himself to calm. Eyes- eye of the enemy widened before they squinted, a respectful, forced smile unnaturally stretching his face.
"Chief Hakoda-"
Chief. Did Iroh teach him that? Say that he couldn't call his elders by his name? Would he 'punish' him if he didn't?
"Just Hakoda, please. I don't know how they do it back in the Fire Nation, but, here, everyone is called by their name."
The boy- Zuko, he really needed to start calling him that in his mind. It was just hard, when he looked too young with that damn scar. When he still stuttered just like Socka did.
Zuko looked away, as if suspicious, and he didn't blame him. Still, he walked over, sitting down next to him. Zuko jumped yet again at this (he no longer wondered why Toph called him 'Jumpy,') before quickly calming himself. Did Iroh not let him show him emotion?
"Thank you Chi- Hakoda. I appreciate the honor."
He smiled, though his heart saddened at the word 'honor.' Both from the children's jokes about 'Zuko and his honor,' and the boy's own use of it in passing, he knew that he had some obsession with the concept.
He was going to strangle Iroh with his own two hands.
"The honor is all mine, being able to speak with royalty?"
It was a joke, but Zuko tensed. He stared at his scarred hands, swallowing, before meeting Hakoda's eyes like it was the hardest thing he'd ever done.
"Well, I'm not really royalty anymore, so-"
He gave an awkward chuckle, but Hakoda was more confused than ever before. What did he mean by he wasn't royalty anymore? Sure, he didn't know exactly why he'd been hunting for the Avatar, but sure he still held the title of a prince, right?
Zuko, seeming to sense the confusion, hurried to explain. Another chuckle left him, this one sounding even quieter and more awkward.
"Well- ever since my banishment-" Banishment?? "the title has been a bit iffy. I was only allowed back home because Fath- the Fire Lord thought I killed Aang. But then I revealed that he was alive during Black Sun so he shot lightning at me-"
Hakoda must've been making a face, because the prince - was that name even correct anymore? - stopped, seeming squeamish.
He'd thought Iroh was bad, but this? His own father tried to kill him. He tried to imagine it, trying to have any idea how a man could hurt his own son, but was left nearly puking at the thought of ever laying a harsh hand on Sokka.
He breathed.
"Kid, are you okay?"
The words were endlessly soft, but the kid still flinched. After getting over his apparent shock - and how it hurt Hakoda's chest to see him so confused over basic care - he gave a laugh, an empty thing.
"Yeah. Of course. Just... Been a lot, sir."
He didn't try to correct him on the title, too busy grabbing the boy's hands. A harsh flinch escaped him, and Hakoda nearly cursed. Instead, he gently gathered too-small palms in his own much larger ones, giving them a squeeze, the same thing he would do to his own son.
"It's okay. Now, could you tell me how the hell you survived getting lightning shot at you?"
Zuko giggled, and Hakoda nearly cried. It was such a true, beautifully ugly sound, so true. Tui and La, how could either of the boy's adults ever harm such a good kid?
"Well, my uncle taught me lightning redirection." That was the only good thing his uncle had ever done, apparently. "Said it was inspired by water bending, the back-and-forth of it. I can't do it as good as he does, but. It saved my life."
He smiled, a true one. Though his eyes were heavier than a kid's ever should be, it still made Hakoda grin.
"It's impressive. You must be a fine bender."
The boy practically preened, and it hurt his heart. Sure, Iroh might've taught him a technique to save his life, but couldn't compliment him enough to not make him look so shocked whenever he received the slightest of compliments?
"I'm not that good, sir. My sister can make lightning, I can hardly redirect it."
Hakoda chuckled. At this point, his constant self-deprecation was so ridiculous it was funny. He could discover the cure for pentapox and still say someone else could've done it better.
"Tui and La- learn how to take a compliment, would you?
The boy laughed once again, and, hesitantly, gave Hakoda's hands a smile. Finally. Hakoda had worried that, with the way he acted, he would never calm him down. But now he was leaning just the slightest bit towards him, like a turtle-moth to a flame.
"Sorry, sir."
No guilt laced his tone now, the closest ex-royalty would ever get to a tease.
Hakoda smiled. And, carefully, as if treating an injured animal, he wrapped his arm around the boy's shoulders.
Iroh be damned, this was his kid now.