Title: Roulette
Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Rating: PG-16 (language and violence)
Genre: AU, Action, Intrigue, Romance (in that the story focuses largely on character interactions)
Co-Author: Eleanor
Summary: After the theft of her family's ostrich-horse, Song decides to track down the two men responsible, and stumbles across a fragile boy in dire need of help. This chance meeting touches off a chain of events that leads Song to the capital of the Fire Nation just as the final battle is ending, where her skills as a doctor are greatly needed. Just when it seems as though life is settling into a comfortable routine, however, the Dai Li start causing trouble -- and nobody knows who is pulling the strings...
Warnings: Longfic is long, and will eventually span twenty years or so. Contains a Xanatos Roulette. OCs abound. Noncanon pairings. Deviates from canon before Sozin's Comet.

Song hoisted her bag a bit higher on her shoulders and sighed. Maybe she shouldn't have gone chasing after Mushi and Lee before her mother could purchase a new ostrich-horse, but the young doctor wasn't entirely certain herself if she was chasing them to take the animal back, or to warn them that they were being tracked. The very day after Song had witnessed their theft, soldiers had passed through the area with a wanted poster bearing painted likenesses of the two men.

Fortunately, Song knew this area much better than the soldiers, and had passed by them easily — and undetected, thank the spirits. With any luck, she might even be able to catch up with the two fugitives. Thus preoccupied, she didn't notice the small, skeletal boy curled up under a tree until she almost tripped over him.

"Oh!" she gasped, startled. She carefully stepped over him and almost headed back on her way — then stopped and turned back around to look at him closely. He curled a little tighter in on himself, whimpering faintly. Song bit her lip, considering her options, then knelt beside him and dug in her pack. After a moment, she pulled out a blanket and draped it over the small boy.

He twitched a little, whimpering again, then jerked awake with a faint gasp. Eyes widening, he scrambled away from her. The doctor remained where she was. "Are you all right?" she asked him softly.

He nodded, trembling a little, and Song gave him a gentle smile. "Good."

After a long moment of wary staring, he uncurled a little, folded up the blanket delicately and held it out to her, careful to keep it between the two of them.

"You're not cold?" she asked him now.

He hesitated a minute, then shrugged one shoulder.

"I don't need it right now, you know," Song told him, smiling still.

Still, he hesitated, not moving either himself or the blanket.

"It's all right. Really."

After a minute, he pulled the blanket close to him, hugging it almost like a teddy bear. Song's smile grew wider, and she took care not to betray any of the anger she felt surging inside her. Clearly, that child had been badly abused in the past. He gave her a hesitant, timid, frightened half-smile in return.

"Are you hungry?" she asked, drawing her bag in front of her. Mushi and Lee had been utterly forgotten in light of this small scrap of humanity.

He shook his head, obviously lying.

"Are you sure? I brought too much with me, and I'm sure some of it will go bad if it isn't eaten."

He hesitated again, taking his eyes off her for a brief instant to flash a longing glance at her bag. Shaking her head in amusement — she had to be amused, or else she would get angry and scare him off — Song dug out some bread and offered it to him. "Here. Eat slowly, all right?" He stared at it for a few seconds, then slowly reached out for it. As soon as she let go, he devoured it in seconds.

She very carefully did not frown, but she couldn't help but worry. When had he eaten last? When he was done, he curled up a little tighter around the blanket. Keeping a careful eye on him, Song ate a bit of bread herself.

After a few minutes, he whimpered faintly and crawled a little ways away, where he threw up all the bread he'd eaten. Song sighed, unsurprised, and checked her water container before rising and kneeling by him. "Here," she said gently. "Drink some water. I'll clean up."

He pulled away a little, but accepted the water. Song backed up and watched him. "That's why I advised you to eat slowly," she told him, not unkindly. "Will you listen to me next time?"

He nodded, staring at the ground and trembling again.

Oops. She injected a bit more pleasantness into her tone. "Good. You're far too thin already. You can't afford to lose any more weight."

He just nodded again, not looking up. He still seemed a little afraid.

"What's your name?"

"Y-Yì Suì," he whispered.

"My name is Song," she replied, giving him another smile. "It's nice to meet you, Yì Suì."

He nodded again, with another tentative little smile. Song rose then and began to make camp, taking care not to get too close to and spook the boy. A few hours after she'd first found him, she gave him a smaller amount of bread, cautioning him to take it slowly this time.

This time, he obeyed her, eating very slowly and only about half of what she'd given him — and this time he didn't get ill. Encouraged, Song kept to this schedule, feeding him a little bit every few hours.

Slowly, slowly, he relaxed a little, though he wouldn't give her any more information other than his name, and tensed when she got within a few feet of him. Because of this, Song made certain to always keep a distance between them, even when trying to convince him to sleep and to bathe.

Sleeping he was willing to do, though restlessly, twitching and whimpering, but he balked when she tried to get him to bathe, panicking, practically hyperventilating. After the first few times, Song suggested he keep his clothes on for it. When presented with this option, he was less unwilling to try, and Song took to bathing with her clothes on as well, to comfort him. It was even harder to hide her anger from Yì Suì, as she'd come to realise that the boy hadn't just been abused — he'd been sexually abused. All she wanted now was to track down whoever had done that to him and forcefeed them enough poison to waste the entire Fire Nation navy.

As the days went by, he even started talking to her a little, though never initiating conversation. Song was very heartened by this, and began to travel again, keeping to a pace that wouldn't exhaust him. She'd talk to him while they walked, though she took care to avoid the subjects that made him upset.

He stuck with her, seeming to be unwilling to go off alone. Or perhaps just because she fed him and he didn't have any idea how to find food on his own. Whatever the reason, Song was glad to take care of him. She suspected that he might have starved to death had she not found him.

Of course, having a travelling companion meant she had to stop in villages more often, to ply her trade and to pick up supplies. On these occasions, she would find a hiding place for the boy if he didn't want to go in with her.

One such afternoon, a little less than three weeks after she'd found him, Yì Suì wasn't there when she got back.

Song frowned. "Yì Suì?" A bit worried, she began to look for him. He wasn't anywhere to be found, but there was a very obvious trail of broken branches not far from where he'd hidden. Brown eyes narrowed, and the doctor followed that trail. The trail was heading back the way they'd came, towards the city. Hissing something impolite, she moved slightly off of it to hide her presence, but following, hoping to find Yì Suì soon.

The trail eventually led to a small campsite, with three large, bulky men gathered around a campfire, Yì Suì tied up and unconscious near them. Careful to remain out of sight, Song pondered her next move. She knew she wasn't a fighter, and if they caught her… of course, if they did she could simply poison them — but was it really worth the risk? She had the herbs on her person that would incapacitate them, but if she never got a chance to use them…

None of the men seemed to notice her presence, and, after a few more minutes of conversation, they set watches and two of the men went to sleep. The third stayed awake, keeping an eye out for wild animals, most likely.

Song groped for and found a rock, which she promptly hurled to one side of the camp. What kind of men was she dealing with? Best to find out. The man looked up, and lumbered over to see what had made the noise.

Lightning-quick, Song plunged from her cover and grabbed Yì Suì, cradling the too-small boy against her chest. "Hey!" the man shouted, turning and seeing her. Song gasped and fled, but quickly realised she wouldn't be fast enough to get away. She kept running nonetheless; there was a slim chance that she might possibly be able to—

She was tackled from behind, and barely managed to twist and land heavily on her left arm rather than on the child in her arms. The impact drove the breath from her lungs, and she curled up around Yì Suì, gasping.

The too-small boy didn't wake up — which, given his sensitivity about his personal space, was unusual.

The man picked her and Yì Suì up and carried them both back to his camp, where he tied the young doctor up and put her on the other side of the camp, across the fire from her charge. Snarling, Song struggled against her bindings and used every word and phrase she'd ever learned by treating soldiers to loudly swear at her captor.

"Shut up," he said shortly, backhanding her, and then waking up his companions.

Song's reply was just as short and much ruder.

"What is it?" the first of the two men he woke up asked. The man who'd caught Song explained, briefly.

"What do we do with her? Clients don't want girls."

That made Song freeze. She was angry, and just a little afraid now that she, too, was in need of rescue. And it was well and fine that the clients didn't want girls, but what of those three?

"Well, we can't just let her go. She might get the police. We'll just hafta keep her with us, 'til we figure out somewhere to put her."

Song growled — and then quieted suddenly as her mind began to race. These men didn't seem to be all that bright. Perhaps, if she played her cards right, she'd get a second chance…

Her chance came two days later. Song had realised early on that the men had been drugging Yì Suì so that he wouldn't wriggle free and escape — and also because they found his near-constant terror annoying. This, however, meant that they had to trade off carrying him, which of course strained their muscles. Noting this, the doctor, who had been quite well behaved since her initial outburst on being captured, sweetly said, "Are you sore? If you like, I could make you some tea that would help…"

"Sure, all right," one of them said, untying her.

Song went about the innocent tasks that accompanied making tea — and when they weren't looking, she substituted azalea leaves for tea leaves.

The tea took very little time to take effect. Less than an hour later, the three men were clutching their stomachs and groaning. Two of them vomited. Song just shook her head at their stupidity — first at trusting her not to slip them anything, and second, not tying her up again after she made the tea. She rooted through their supplies quickly, hobbled them hand and foot after taking what she needed, and carefully picked Yì Suì up. "Idiots," was her parting shot.

Yì Suì remained unconscious — they'd drugged him again just before getting sick. Song was not above using this to her own advantage, and set a very bruising pace as she made for the nearest village she could possibly get to.

As soon as they got there, they nearly ran into a middle-aged woman apparently finishing up her shopping. "What happened? Are you two all right?"

Song looked her over quickly and decided she had to take a chance and trust her. "I was travelling with this boy — men took him when I went to town for food. Then they took me when I tried to save him." She smiled slightly. "They didn't know I have doctor's training. I left them four miles southeast — they'll be sick for a day."

The woman nodded. "Here, why don't I take you two to my place, and then I'll go alert the police?"

Song hesitated. "I… Yì Suì is very timid, I don't know if…" She looked up into the woman's face and froze. She quickly got control of herself, hoping it hadn't been too noticeable.

"I live alone," the woman assured her, seeming not to notice her reaction.

"Very well," Song said after a moment. "But he's likely to wake up terrified."

The woman nodded. "All right." She led Song to a small house near the centre of town. "The bedroom's in the back, behind the shop, second door on the right."

"Thank you, ma'am," said Song, bowing politely, if somewhat awkwardly with Yì Suì in her arms. Following the directions, she carried Yì Suì into the bedroom. She hesitated before entering — what if the very fact that it was a bedroom made Yì Suì panic? She'd have to stay with him.

The bedroom was very ordinary, if smallish. The only decoration was a small painting, turned around so the back of the frame was facing out into the room. Gently, Song laid Yì Suì down on the bed, then lowered her supplies to the floor. She debated with herself internally, then went to look at the picture. The odds were she'd just made a mistake, but it was really better to be certain…

It was a family portrait, of a man, his wife, and their son and daughter. The man and woman were seated, the children kneeling at their feet. All four wore elaborate clothing in styles she didn't recognize, meaning it was likely that it was some type of court dress.

The woman was the one who owned the house.

And one of the children was Lee. Younger, yes, and happier, too — and without the horrific scar. It wasn't easy to tell, but the hints were there if one looked.

Taking a very careful breath, Song turned the portrait back around. This wasn't any of her business. She shouldn't have looked. Certainly she wouldn't tell this woman her son was an ungrateful thief — if Lee was, in fact, ungrateful. She was more and more starting to believe the older boy had been desperate.

Sighing, Song moved to look after Yì Suì, and paused. If Lee was the woman's son… then who was Mushi?

Around this time, the boy was starting to come around. As she'd suspected, he panicked upon finding himself in a strange bedroom.

Song quickly moved into his line of sight. "Yì Suì, it's all right. It's just me. We're safe here." He whimpered a little, and tried to scramble off of the bed. Finding that he couldn't move very well, due to the not-quite-completely worn-off drug, he panicked further.

Afraid he'd hurt himself, Song took him by the arms and helped him get off the bed. "It's okay," she repeated, letting go of him once she got him sitting. "A woman is sheltering us. Nobody is going to hurt you, I promise."

He whimpered again, tensing further at the brief contact, then curled up tight as he could, shaking. Biting her lip, Song drew a blanket from the bed and draped it on him, trying not to touch him again. "It's all right," she said a third time.

After a frighteningly long few minutes, he calmed down, his breathing slowly returning to a normal rate. The doctor calmed down in turn and briefly wished she'd been able to use belladonna instead of azalea.

A few moments after that, the woman returned, tapping on the doorframe rather than entering or allowing herself to be seen and panicking the child further. Song rose and moved to the door. "Yes?"

"The police want you to describe the men, just to be certain," she said, softly.

"All right. I'll do that. Just a moment?"

"Yes?"

Song returned to Yì Suì and gently spoke his name. He looked up, but didn't otherwise move or acknowledge her. "I have to go for a little bit," she told him. "I'll be back as quickly as I can, but the police need to ask me a few things."

He nodded a little, then curled up again.

The doctor then moved back to the woman. "All right. I'm ready."

The woman led her back out into the front room, where a very young man — just barely of age — in a police uniform waited. Song bowed politely, only then realising that some of the blows she'd received in her first day with the men had certainly bruised over by now.

The policeman bowed back. "Could you please explain what happened, miss...?"

"Song. My name is Song." Carefully she described her initial encounter with first Yì Suì, and then the men who had kidnapped him; she winced as she included her first foolhardy attempt at rescue but held her head high as she admitted to poisoning the men.

The policeman took careful notes, asked a couple of clarifying question, then bowed, thanked her and the woman — whom he called 'Bian' — for their time, then left. Once he had, Song returned to watch over Yì Suì, quietly hating the men who had done that to him. Forget Lee and Mushi's petty theft. This was a far, far worse crime.

Bian remained in the shop in the front room until it closed in the evening, then offered her two guests food. Song accepted the food with thanks, and offered to help Bian clean up shop in return for her generosity.

"If you like," she said, smiling slightly. "I didn't catch your name."

"It's Song," the girl replied with an answering smile. "And my friend is Yì Suì."

"A pleasure to meet you, though I wish it could have been under more pleasant circumstances," she said, bowing. "I am called Bian."

"Thank you for your help, Madam Bian," Song answered, bowing in return.

"Of course." She got an odd, sad, faraway look in her eyes for a moment, then shook her head and returned to her work.

Song frowned. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. Just..." Bian gave her a weary smile. "Your friend isn't much older than my son was when I lost him."

"Oh. I'm sorry," the girl said softly.

"It's not your fault. It's mine."

"Still. No mother should be separated from her child…" Well, okay, there were many many exceptions to this, but Song was trying to comfort Bian.

She shrugged, fluidly. "What did you use to poison the men?"

"Azalea. I couldn't find anything else."

Bian nodded. "Good choice."

Song sighed. "I wish I'd had belladonna."

She arched an eyebrow. "If you'd killed them, you would regret it for the rest of your life. It's not worth it."

"Maybe," said the girl softly.

"It's not. Taking a life..." Bian shook her head. "No matter what it's worth. No matter how terrible your victim. It's regrettable."

Song looked over at her. "You sound like you're talking from experience."

Bian smiled a little bitterly. "Why do you think I had to leave my son behind?"

Song's eyes went wide.

"I took my father-in-law's life in exchange for a promise for my son's safety." Now she sounded truly bitter.

"Wh-what's his name?" Song managed to get out. "Y-your son, I mean." Could it be that Lee…?

"I can't tell you."

"…all right," conceded the doctor. It wasn't any of her business anyway.

Bian bowed her head a moment, then returned to her task at hand. "You're welcome to stay here as long as you like. I have the room, and I could teach you more about herbs, if you want to learn."

"That would be wonderful," Song said. "I… I'm afraid to travel much further with Yì Suì. If this happened once, it could happen again."

She nodded. "That's understandable."

"Thank you again, Madam Bian."

She bowed slightly. "Of course." She returned to her cleanup. Song joined in, wondering if she ought to tell the older woman that she'd seen her son. Bian made no further conversation, choosing to work in silence or wait for Song to make an overture. After a quarter-hour, Song made up her mind.

"I… I think I might have met your son a month ago."

Bian froze. "You're sure?"

"I… I'm reasonably sure," Song said. "I… the boy I met looks like you."

"Did he have a scar, on the left side of his face, going from the side of his nose out over his ear?"

"Yes."

Bian laughed bitterly. "That's how well my husband keeps his promises."

"Then the man he was travelling wasn't his father."

"No. His uncle, my brother-in-law."

"I see." Song considered this from where she was kneeling on the floor. One hand drifted absently to rub her scarred leg.

Bian fell silent as well.

"I… he… he seemed to be healthy when I saw him," Song offered, a little lamely. "Very angry, though."

"Who could blame him? Disfigured, disowned, and now..." Bian trailed off.

"A fugitive," Song supplied quietly.

"Yes."

The girl got to her feet and finished helping Bian with the chores.

The woman made no further conversation that night, and once they were finished, Song returned to Yì Suì. The boy was curled up in a corner, asleep, twitching and whimpering. The doctor took a seat beside him and wished she could comfort him.