Hey there. I thought up this story while writing my Taang story, Little Girlfriend. And though I do love Taang, it's like a candy. It's wonderful and you have it everyday for a month, but eventually, you need to change for a while.
This isn't to say that Toko is just a simple ship on the side. I love Toko. It is among my OTP's and I love it just as much as I love Taang. In fact, I ship a little bit of everything, my hate for ships has died. I definitely like some more than others, but I think everything's okay.
Keep in mind, this will not contain large gaping mounds of tooth rotting fluff. A romance it is, but it's a drama as well.
Zuko is an old seventeen, he will be turning eighteen in 2 or 3 months.
Toph recently turned fourteen
Katara is a new sixteen
Aang is fourteen, a month or two older than Toph
Sokka just turned seventeen
Iroh is sixty four. Because I said so.
On with the story, yes?
I disclaim everything. I will NOT say this in any chapter after this and I will NOT make any witty remarks about how if I did own avatar, I would pair so-and-so with such-and-such and have a million dollars. We get it. Seriously.
. . . . . . . . . Chapter 1: Hand in a Flame . . . . . . . . .
He awoke to the smell of cinders and smoldering flesh.
It hardly registered with him that it was dark out, still night. He did not have the energy to question his irregular arising.
White hot sparks landed on his hand, startling the young prince into consciousness. He surveyed the room and narrowed his eyes. Fire, controlled and warped. Benders.
Of course they only wanted the ashes of this area; the charred bones of the Fire Lord and those that stood loyally by his side. It would be disastrous to waste such a beautiful piece of architecture trying to overthrow such an incompetent fool.
As smoke filled his lungs, he raised his fingers to the scar that marred a face full of opportunity.
He knew that he deserved this.
"Good Morning, Lord Zuko."
He turned slowly, as if to beg for death, to the voice, too melodic and kind to belong to the one who lit the embers, killed his scant amount of followers.
"Katou?"
A man with sharp hazel eyes glared at him, a remorseful frown crossing his features. Zuko's advisor… and friend.
"Why," Zuko asked quietly.
"It's gone too far Zuko. The rebels want your head on a stake. As does the entire nation. Too many deaths, too many families were torn apart by your agenda."
He was silent as the traitor stroked his hands against the bureau, causing the wood to burn under his touch.
Katou knew that Zuko had good intentions and would never purposefully cause his nation harm. But he wished too strongly for peace, for unity. When the boy took his place on the throne, he was unaware of how many were faithful to his father, accustomed to bigotry and hatred. Whispers of resistivity had trickled it's way into the palace. There were reported rumors of murders of those who supported the Avatar, and tranquility was on few minds. Zuko, wanting to lead the Fire Nation into a new era, decided that immediate action was needed and that penalties were to be dealt. With the threat of imprisonment breathing down the necks of half the nation, the people grew angry and hostile, infuriated at the idea of change. They argued and fought; how dare this insolent child force them to give up their way of life, imprison those that fought for who they were? The numbers grew and the violence spread to other countries, and the resistance became determined to punish to those that had opposed Ozai, those that had brought the world disgrace. They demolished towns and villages, slaying those that supported the Avatar. And with those that defended the Avatar, there were people defending the defenders. Zuko's name had turned red from the mass amounts of bloodshed that his people had caused. Any and all kind feelings, alliances, between the Fire Nation and the rest of the world, quickly vanished into the very air that the Avatar had bent.
With the all the government's money being spent on rebuilding the trail of destruction and rebuilding alliances, the once prosperous Fire Nation fell quickly into poverty. Taxes rose, labor intensified, children were forced to work to sustain their families… now, even the trust of those who held him in regard soured. The Fire Nation was crumbling.
Zuko let out shuddering sob as the fire grew larger.
"There is a reason I asked to be the one to to this," Katou told him, picking up a comb and turning it into soot in his hands. "I know what would be done to you if the rebels were left to their own devices. They will show no restraint, you would be ash! Please, Zuko, please. Leave the nation. Escape."
He shook his head, walked into the middle of the room.
"Burn me, Katou."
The man's eyes widened at the demand. Zuko treasured life of all sorts, even those of the Turtleducks in the pond. He would not be so unkind to demand that Katou do such a painful task!
"B-but sir!"
"Enough! I will not stand for this mockery of a trap. I said burn me!" He walked silently to his friend, whispering, "For the love of Agni, must you be so senseless? There must be soldiers outside, ensuring that you have done your job. I will escape through the window, and you will burn my clothes into soot. Do this in the middle of the room, so it is not to be confused with any other debris."
Katou smiled, nodding. Zuko was a smart young man. He quickly handed Zuko a large shoulder bag, instructing him to fill it with the necessary belongings. Zuko shrieked loudly in mock agony as his advisor set fire to his remaining clothes, a large pile of ash falling to the floor. As he raised the window, still screaming, Katou handed him a large bag filled with gold pieces. They hugged as Zuko's cries died along with his identity.
"Make sure that my uncle knows of this plan and is appointed as Fire Lord. That is my dying wish," he hushed. "And tell Mai… that I tried."
"Good luck, my friend."
He clambered out the window and leapt onto his Eelhound, sprinting into the night, trailing a scent of reminiscence under the vibrant stars.
It wasn't until he reached the desert that he truly began to make sense of it all.
Once again, he was a fugitive, a man who's identity would be the end of him. He had lost his crown and thrown, his woman, and the chance that he would see his uncle once more was miniscule.
He frowned at what had been expected from him. A boy. A simple sixteen year old boy, who had spent years dedicated to learning how to rule in exile, to rule a nation of fury driven militias? It made no sense. From day one they had him making decisions and writing treaties.
He never knew in those three long years, that his honor and throne would be his downfall.
No one ever expected that. Not even those that he held close to his heart, the ones who knew him best.
His friends remained in his palace for months, watching with interest as he fulfilled his duties. When he had time, he would spend afternoons at Iroh's tea shop, observing the daily flow of people and the way his friends changed over time.
He witnessed Katara falling deeper and deeper in love with Aang, and vice versa.
He witnessed Sokka (finally) propose to suki, and smiled to himself as he slipped the jade engagement necklace over her shoulders.
He witnessed his uncles pride at his new maturity and self-esteem.
And he could never remember those sudden kisses Mai gave him, mostly because his mind melted into the consistence of the grain meal his uncle liked so much.
He knew that someone was missing from his fond collection.
She is no friend of mine, he thought bitterly.
But he knew this was a lie. She was his best friend, the one he trusted most, since he could tell her no lies. And even though she could, he could see in her unseeing eyes, the had no lies to tell.
She was this first to accept him, and the first to spite him as well. The first to leave him after Mai broke up with him. When the nation first began to collapse in the fourth month of his reign, she wasn't there to support him. She left.
He could not bring himself to think of her as lowly as she though of him.
"She's right."
"What," he barked incredulously, "you're taking her side?!"
She nodded. The stoic girl was right to leave him.
"She has good reasons to do so. You should consider yourself lucky that she dumped you by using words rather then shuriken. I was personally rooting for the knives to come out."
Zuko stared at her. How dare that little shrew talk to him in that way. He quieted his reflexes, reminding himself that he was superior to no one. High positions does not make one better than any man.
"Well, her reasons are ridiculous. What should she care if I'm struggling with my duties? she's supposed to help me and encourage me, not send me into a depressed state that effects my health."
"It's not just you who's struggling her, Fluffy, it's the entire country! It's wilting! The Fire Nation is Mai's home, whether she finds it boring or not," the eatherbender declared.
"And what would you know of home, Mole," Zuko retorted, not fully aware of what he said.
The ground shook under him, the candles flickering. As Zuko's words sunk in to his mind, he felt a lump of guilt rise. He just had to bring up tho one topic she was sensitive about. After the way he talked to her, when she divulged something so personal, back on ember island, she refused to give him more than three words a day. It took about fourteen apologies and an offer to let her beat him up for her to finally acknowledge him. He had a feeling that this would be different.
Three sharp spikes erupted from the ground, splashing him with rubble, jetting over his shoulder, missing his throat by a matter of inches.
"Disgusting. Figures. Your stupid power has gone to your stupid excuse for a head. While you waste your time fretting over some girl, your kingdom is falling apart! And to make matters worse, the one person who has the gall to tell you, so you can change it, you insult! You're acting like some ignorant prince. Remember who your friends are, Fluffy. …… 'Cause next time you forget who you really are, I'll be aiming."
The earth needles fell into sand, he felt some of it dusting his uniform. When he finally opened his clenched eyes, she was gone, the harshly cracked ground evidence of her departure.
She left the next morning.
He never heard from her again.
The rest followed within the next two months, though they were slightly more polite about it. They at least had the sensitivity to make up excuses. Sokka and Suki had to return to Kyoshi in order to train the new recruits, Aang wanted to travel for fun, now that his duties as Avatar were fulfilled, of course Katara could stand to be away from him, so… But he could feel how the city's bleakness depressed them. They didn't want to see him plummet.
He smiled bitterly.
They were right to run.
It was better this way. But he knew that the news of his 'death' would pain them.
Katara would cry for days, blame herself, even if there was nothing connecting herself to the assassination.
Aang would hold her, comforting her, while gazing off into the stars, the way he always did when he had to face problems.
Suki would be silent for days, pushing Sokka away, then, she would cave in, collapse into his arms and sob.
Sokka would train ruthlessly, until his muscles ached, the loss of another loved one a heavy burden on his soul.
He knew they would all shed tears. Except for her.
He smacked down the reigns on his Eelhound, startling the beast into a frenzied run. Hoping to reach the shore soon. He was pushing those thoughts out of his mind.
And even as he buried his mind in self-hatred, he wondered if she would smile at the news of his murder.
