This was written for Boogum's dare in the Truth or Dare challenge at Promptbending, an ATLA/LoK writing/fanart forum. The dare was to "write a one-shot in which someone from AtLA has to swap bodies with Momo for a day." The link for the forum is promptbendingdotproboardsdot com (obviously you know what to do with the dots) if you're interested.
I haven't written fanfiction in years, and this is my first attempt at writing for the ATLA fandom, so constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated.
Zuko couldn't sleep.
He'd risen early that morning and dragged the Avatar—no, Aang—from bed, determined to get a head start on firebending lessons. Ever since their return from meeting the dragons, there had been a constant jumble of foreign emotions thumping around his chest, something like hope and conviction. He had his firebending back, and he would teach the Avatar all he knew in order to help the Avatar defeat the Fire Lord and restore balance to the world. It was his destiny, his purpose in life.
At least, that had been the plan. What followed were some of the most frustrating days of Zuko's life. Avatar or not, Aang was still a twelve-year-old boy, and one of the most inattentive students Zuko had ever seen.
Aang didn't want to work on breathing techniques. Half of what Zuko said seemed to leak straight out of his ears, and he was constantly getting distracted by various small animals and loud noises from the temple. When he couldn't get something on the second try, he stopped putting much effort into trying. He asked for breaks at least once every ten minutes, and when Zuko finally relented the first morning, he'd taken his glider and disappeared with Teo.
The fate of the world rested on the bald kid's shoulders, and said bald kid only wanted to play. It drove Zuko mad. Didn't Aang understand how important his role was, how the Avatar had to learn all four elements?
At lunch, he'd tried to explain his feelings on the matter to Aang. He'd only gotten two sentences in when Katara had interjected snippily, "If he's not learning properly, it's only because you're not teaching properly." That had shut Zuko up; he never knew what to say to Katara. Aang had looked uneasy and Toph had given him a sympathetic whack on the shoulder, but neither had said anything either.
He'd spent the afternoon watching Katara and Aang waterbend. He couldn't help but notice Aang was much more attentive during this lesson than the morning one. It was probably, Zuko thought grumpily, because Katara was a pretty girl and Zuko was... well, not.
He'd went straight to his room after dinner and meditated for an hour before deciding to go to bed early. Now he lay in bed in a futile attempt to sleep. It had been over an hour, and he still felt no signs of sleepiness. Frustration and doubt gnawed at his insides, preventing slumber.
He knew Katara was angry with him, and that was why she was so rude to him all the time, but could her words have a ring of truth? Was he simply not patient enough a teacher? He had gotten a lot better at firebending, but he was still no master. Was he really good enough to teach the Avatar? Was it his inexperience that caused Aang to be so resistant to his teaching?
No, Zuko told himself. It wasn't. It was his destiny to teach the Avatar firebending; he knew that for certain. He couldn't start doubting himself just because the last week had been more difficult than he'd expected.
"Too bad Uncle's not here," he said out loud to the empty room. Iroh would know what to do with Aang; after all, he'd taught Zuko.
Thoughts of his uncle made the uncomfortable feeling in Zuko's stomach grow worse. Now it wasn't just frustration and doubt but also guilt that made a feast of his insides.
Groaning, Zuko sat up in bed, sleep forgotten. He stood and walked over to the open window, leaning his elbows on the sill. A cool breeze blew through the temple, chilly against his bare skin. Stars had begun twinkling in the sky, the sun a distant glow on the horizon.
In another eight or nine hours, he would wake up when the sun returned and go drag Aang out of bed. Then would follow another morning of firebending lessons, another lunch of tense conversation and pointed barbs from Katara, another afternoon of either more firebending or doing chores around the temple and being avoided like the plague by pretty much every sentient being in the vicinity...
His life was a bucket of joy.
Zuko announced this to the room. The room did not deign to respond.
He sighed and dropped his chin onto his hands. "It's okay," he said. "I'm used to pressure. All my life, I've been pressured. To be the perfect prince, to be better than Azula, to find the Avatar. Now it's to teach the Avatar firebending. I can handle it.
"I just wish I could have a day without pressure. See what it's like to have no big worries for once."
A particularly fierce wind picked up at that moment as if in response to his words, whipping his hair into his eyes and causing goosebumps to break out on his bare arms. He scowled and stepped away from the window.
"Yeah, it's impossible, I know. No need to remind me."
Speaking his mind out loud seemed to have helped, though, because when Zuko slipped back into bed, he felt more at peace. Soon, he drifted off into a dreamless sleep.
The stars outside kept twinkling, more brightly than ever.
Zuko woke to find himself in a tree.
That in itself was cause enough for alarm, but everything looked... different, somehow. The sky, usually a brilliant blue, had a greenish hue to it. The sun's golden-white rays were more of a greenish-gold. In fact, everything looked rather green. The tree branches, the leaves, the moon peaches...
Speaking of moon peaches, the ones in the tree Zuko found himself in were abnormally large. The biggest moon peaches he'd ever encountered had still fit comfortably in his hand. These fruits were nearly the size of his head.
There was something off about his hearing, too. It felt like his ears had been opened, as if they'd been covered his whole life and he was only now beginning to hear things properly. His hearing had always been pretty good, though muted in his left ear due to his injury, but now he could hear tiny things he'd never noticed before: bugs scurrying about in the foliage, leaves rustling above his head, a stream trickling far away...
Zuko shook his head. He would find out why his senses were out of whack later. Currently, the most pressing matter was why was he in a tree and how did he get there?
He felt odd as well, like his body was out of proportion. He usually slept on his back or his side, but he'd woken curled up in a ball with his face pressed to the tree branch. It wasn't nearly as uncomfortable as one would expect, though; the bark only tickled his fur instead of—
Wait a minute. Fur?
Zuko lifted a hand to touch his face and froze. Instead of slender, pale fingers, he saw a furry brown paw.
His mind blanked as his eyes followed the length of the arm attached to the paw. The arm came up to a shoulder, which was attached to a small, furry body—his body, he realized.
Zuko promptly fell out of the tree.
Luckily, the tree branch he'd been sleeping on was not very high, so when he landed in a bush, it was more shocking than painful. It definitely jerked him out of his mental stupor. He tried to stand up, but only fell over again. It seemed his legs couldn't stand straight and support his weight properly like they usually did—right, because he was some strange furry animal now.
I've turned into an animal. No big deal, Zuko told himself. No need to panic.
He panicked anyway. He already had enough problems—this was the last thing he needed! He couldn't do anything as an animal—he couldn't speak, he couldn't even stand properly, and he definitely couldn't teach Aang firebending...
Isn't that what you wanted last night? a little voice said in his head.
No, he'd wished for a day without pressure, not to be turned into an animal. Though technically, as an animal, he didn't have to worry about teaching firebending...
Zuko's heart sank. His current predicament didn't have anything to do with his thoughts last night, did it? It would be just his luck if it turned out he'd unwittingly turned himself into an animal.
If this is the spirits' idea of a joke...
There had to be a way to reverse it. There had to be. He couldn't be stuck as a... what animal was he, anyway?
He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and counted to ten, steeling himself. Then he looked down at his new body.
His first thought was that his legs were extremely short (so that was why he wasn't able to support his weight with them the way he usually did). The next was that he was completely covered in white fur, except for the lines of dark brown running alongside the insides of his now stick-skinny arms. The last was that he had a tail.
It was curled behind him, a long, thin, furry thing that twitched when he focused on it. It was a completely foreign sensation, having extra muscles there.
A new thought struck him as he stared at his tail. He'd only seen one body-and-tail combination like this on an animal before, and that had been the Avatar's pet lemur. Wasn't the Avatar's lemur the last of its kind or something?
Probably—the Avatar's lemur could fly. He'd never seen another flying lemur before.
Then Zuko was trying hard not to freak out (well, even more than he already was), because he'd found the ridges of wings retracted into the fur under his arms, and he'd touched his ears and found that yes, they were indeed large and droopy and furry like the Avatar's pet lemur's—what was its name? Modo? Mono?
He felt the beginnings of a realization creeping upon him, but he didn't want to acknowledge it because it was simply too horrible to consider. But really, it made sense. After all, it was improbable that his body had transformed overnight and flown itself over to the tree he'd woken up in. It would make much more sense if, say, he'd simply switched bodies with...
Right on cue, his newly sensitive ears picked up on the sound of a strangled cry from the western side of the temple... where his bedroom was. It was clearly a human voice, but it was making an animalistic screeching noise. And the voice was his.
Or it had been yesterday.
Zuko swore and raced back to the temple.
At least, that had been his intention. What actually happened was that chittering noises burst from his mouth and he tripped over his tail and fell flat on his face.
It took him nearly five minutes to figure out how to run without tripping over various unfamiliar body parts. It was awkward, leaning forward and using his hands to propel himself, and it wasn't so much a run as an ungraceful lurching, but he managed.
Then there was the matter of the tail. It was always in the way. He tried to use his new muscles to control it and keep it from dragging on the ground, but it had to be a conscious effort—the moment he focused on something else, his tail would plop back down to earth and he would trip over it again. Finally, in frustration, he draped it over his shoulders and continued with his ungraceful lurching.
It took him another five minutes to reach the edge of the forest that bordered the temple. The screeching had become more frequent, and Zuko was pretty sure there were anxious human voices interspersed with the screeching. He made an effort to quicken his pace.
From his new perspective, the temple was a lot bigger though, and what was usually a two-minute walk to his bedroom took over double the time. When he finally reached the open doorway and slipped through, he had already heard some of the conversation going on.
"Seriously, what's up with him?" Sokka. "He's acting like an animal!"
A disdainful sniff. "He's probably finally cracked and revealed his true colors. I always knew he was—"
"Oh, shut up, Katara. Can't you tell there's something seriously wrong with him?"
It must have been the use of her actual name instead of an inane sobriquet that caused the irate waterbender to fall silent, Zuko mused. As far as he had seen, Katara never let anyone tell her what to do, especially not her brother or the little earthbender girl.
No one spared him a glance when he entered; their gazes were all fixed on... him. His body was in the center of the room, encased in a mound of rock. Only his head was free, and he—Modo/Mono—was yowling like a diseased cat.
Zuko cringed. It was one thing to hear himself caterwauling like an animal, entirely another to see it. He—his body—looked like a patient from a mental asylum. At the same time, though, he couldn't help being slightly fascinated; after all, he was looking at himself from someone else's perspective. It was strange seeing his scar on that side of his face; he was used to the way it looked in the mirror.
He went up to Aang, who had a worried, perplexed frown on his face, and waved a paw around, trying to get the airbender's attention. He'd miscalculated, though; Aang was much taller than him (wow, never thought that would happen) and didn't see him. He had to resort to pawing at the boy's foot.
"Not now, Momo!" Aang said. "Zuko's gone crazy!"
So the lemur's name was Momo. "I'm not Momo!" he tried to say. "I'm Zuko. For some reason, the lemur and I switched bodies. It might have been because of this wish I made last night, but it was an accident and now I'm like this." Unfortunately, all that came out of his mouth was more chittering.
"Later, Momo," Aang insisted. "Unless you know what's wrong with Zuko?"
Zuko smacked a hand—paw—against his forehead.
This did not go unnoticed by Sokka, who raised his eyebrows. He looked around the room and whispered, "Did Momo just facepalm?"
"I'm not Momo!" Zuko shouted. A screech burst from his mouth. That was all the incentive the real Momo needed to start yowling again.
"Oh, no!" Aang cried. He stepped away from Zuko as if the latter had suddenly sprouted wings and a tail (oh wait, he already had those). "I think Zuko is contaminating Momo!"
Zuko had to resist the urge to facepalm again.
If he couldn't speak, he could still write. His eyes lit upon the desk in the corner of the room. His bag was there, along with a sack of coins, a portrait of his mother, and an inkwell and a brush. There was already parchment strewn across the desk; he'd been making a list of firebending techniques Aang would need to know. He rushed to the desk.
Getting on it was a difficult task. He was still unused to the balance of this new body so he couldn't climb the table leg with ease, but he managed. He could feel Aang's, Sokka's, and Katara's gazes boring into his back as he pushed himself onto the surface of the desk and made a beeline for the brush.
"What's he doing?" Toph wanted to know.
Sokka shrugged. "Beats me."
Momo—the real one—must have gotten tired of screeching, because he had fallen silent and was now staring at Zuko as well. Perhaps he had never seen another lemur before except for his family and his reflection. Or perhaps the lemur was a very intelligent creature and had realized what was going on.
It was much harder to write with a brush that was nearly as tall as him, but it wasn't heavy, so Zuko used both paws to pick it up and dip it in the inkwell. Then he dragged it over to the parchment, dripping ink on his tail in the process, and made careful strokes.
"Is Momo trying to write?" Katara voiced what everyone was thinking.
I am Zuko, he wrote carefully. Before he could continue, the others rushed over.
"'I am Zuko,'" Aang read out loud. He turned panicked eyes to his friends. "Oh, no. Momo really has gone crazy."
"He must have picked it up somewhere," Sokka said, rubbing his chin. "Maybe he's gone through Zuko's stuff and saw the same words and just copied them." His eyes widened. "You went through Zuko's stuff! Are you spying on him, Momo?"
Impatiently, Zuko continued writing. His characters got messier and smaller as his speed increased, but he was fairly certain they were still legible.
"'I switched bodies with Momo, who is currently in my body. I'm not sure how this happened, but—'" Aang broke off to turn and look at Momo. The lemur-turned-human stared back at him with an inquisitive look in his eyes.
"Okay, you know, I think I believe it," Aang said. "Momo always looks at me like that and Zuko never does."
Katara narrowed her eyes. "Maybe this is some trick," she said.
Sokka crossed his arms. "I'm not saying I believe this, but how did it happen?"
I'm not sure, Zuko wrote. Last night I wished I could have a day without any pressure to see what it was like, and I woke up this morning in the lemur's body. I don't know if that has anything to do with it.
"Ha!" Katara snorted. "A likely story."
"Hey, you're acting like he really is Zuko," Sokka said.
"Well, the writing does sound like him," Aang mused. "And... look!" He pointed to the parchment that had a detailed list of firebending techniques scrawled on it. "The writing looks the same. Just messier."
"Gee, I think there might be a blind person in here, but I can't tell with my feet," Toph said. Three ashamed faces turned to her apologetically.
As Aang dutifully read out loud what Zuko had written, Sokka and Katara looked back and forth between Zuko and Momo. The firebender and the lemur stared back at the siblings.
Toph suddenly reached out and picked Zuko up. He gulped as he was lifted into the air by callused fingers and brought before Toph's face. Her milky green eyes seemed to bore into his, though he knew that was impossible. Despite her size (though he was hardly one to judge right now), her grip was as strong as iron.
"He feels different," Toph said. "He doesn't feel like an animal, not the way he usually does. And he believes what he wrote."
"Great," Sokka said. "So the jerkbender's a lemur now."
Toph set Zuko down surprisingly gently. He jumped away from her hands the moment he was back on the desk—he did not like being carried. He picked up the brush again.
"'Does anyone know how to reverse this?'" Aang frowned. "I don't remember hearing any stories or folk tales about things like this happening before... what was your wish, exactly?"
Katara scowled. "I say we leave him like this. It would serve him right."
"No way!" Sokka protested, and Zuko was startled that the Water Tribe boy was defending him until Sokka added, "Poor Momo would be stuck in Zuko's body!"
Toph hit him. Ignoring his cry of pain, she turned in Zuko's general direction and asked, "Yeah, what exactly was your wish?"
"'To have a day without pressure.'" Aang smiled. "That's okay then. It's just one day, right? Tomorrow you'll be back in your own body. What's been pressuring you, anyway?"
Nothing important, Zuko wrote quickly. And I was just talking last night. I wasn't seriously wishing for anything. I don't know if it's the wish that caused this, but it's the only thing I can think of.
Aang read his words out loud for everyone and then put a finger on his chin. "Actually, I think I've heard of something like this before. It wasn't a story or a folk tale, but I remember once I told Monk Gyatso a wish I had and he said sometimes, the spirits grant wishes to those with pure hearts. Maybe the spirits granted your wish, Zuko."
Katara burst out laughing. The others turned to stare at her when she did not stop, folding her arms across her stomach as if attempting to contain her mirth.
"I'm sorry," she said, wiping her eyes. "It's just... we're talking about Zuko, remember? Pure heart doesn't exactly apply to him."
Zuko bristled—literally. He could feel his fur starting to prickle. He was tired of her constant stream of insults; couldn't she see he was trying his hardest to atone for his past wrongs? Why did she bait him so?
He opened his mouth to respond but was beaten to it. It was just as well; no one would have been able to understand him.
"Stop it, Katara," Aang said. "Now's not the time."
"Yeah, put a lid on it, Sugar Queen, before I do it for you." Toph flexed her fingers to emphasize her point. "We're all sick and tired of your attitude."
"My attitude?" Katara's face was turning red. That definitely wasn't a good sign. "You weren't with us when Zuko was constantly attacking us, but—Aang!" She rounded on the airbender. "He was trying to capture you and bring you to the Fire Lord! How can you defend him?"
"He's trying, Katara," Aang said, in a tone of weary patience. "And he's Momo right now. Give him a break."
Katara opened her mouth, no doubt to spew more vitriol, but Sokka put a hand on her arm and gave her a look. There must have been some Water Tribe sibling communication in there no one else understood, because after a moment Katara set her jaw and looked away, fuming but silent.
Zuko stared in surprise. Azula would never listen to him like that. Was that how siblings were supposed to act around each other?
"Look," Aang said, cutting into Zuko's thoughts, "if you're Momo right now because of your wish, then it's just for one day. If you're not back to normal tomorrow, we'll think of something, but for now, why don't you enjoy your day of no pressure?"
Enjoy my day of no pressure? Zuko stared at Aang disbelievingly. I'm a lemur!
He didn't write this down, but his feelings must have been clear on his face because Aang smiled brightly. "Exactly!" he said. "You're pretty lucky, Zuko. Most people only get to live in their own body. You get to try a different one!"
I don't want to try a different body. I want my own back!
Once again, Aang understood him. "Think about it—you get to try having a tail and wings and..." He trailed off, eyes beginning to gleam. Zuko recognized that look. It was the same look the Avatar got whenever he thought he'd come up with a clever excuse for taking a break from firebending lessons (keyword: thought). Oh no... don't tell me he wants to teach me how to...
"Fly! You have wings; you can fly!"
Zuko shook his head emphatically and backed away towards the edge of the desk. He already had the body of a flying lemur. There was no need to add insult to injury by attempting to be a flying lemur.
But the gleam in Aang's eyes was only getting brighter; it seemed he'd made up his mind. Behind him, Toph cackled.
"Oh, this is gonna be good."
I still think this is a really, really bad idea.
Aang bent down to look at the words Zuko had scratched in the dirt and shook his head. "No way; it's a great idea! Aren't you excited?"
To possibly injure myself in an attempt to do something I don't want to do? Not really.
Despite his complete lack of enthusiasm for the idea, Zuko had somehow been roped into a flying lesson with Aang. It probably had something to do with the fact that he'd chased the airbender around the world for months and now he was trying to atone for that. In other words, he was being a complete pushover.
They'd had breakfast earlier. At Zuko's request, the group had agreed not to let the other three occupants of the temple learn of the morning's events. He didn't need an extra three people giving him curious looks (Haru) or asking him questions (Teo) or poking him (The Duke), and there had definitely been enough people to witness the humiliation of the Avatar's pet lemur going crazy in his body.
Toph had given Momo the freedom to move his hands and upper body, and Aang and Katara had gathered moon peaches for the lemur. After leaving his bedroom that morning, Zuko didn't plan on going back. He'd slept without a shirt on, and he could only imagine what "he" looked like right now: shirtless, half-encased in rock, and probably gobbling fruit like a savage. The thought made him want to hide under a rock and come out only when the world had forgotten his name.
At breakfast, Zuko had tried to eat what Katara had made, but the warm congee, usually so refreshing in the morning, had clogged in his throat and made him hack and cough. Of course Katara had glared at him for that. Aang had given him some fruit to eat, and Zuko supposed he ought to be grateful the lemur didn't survive solely on eating bugs or something equally repulsive.
After breakfast, Aang had put Sokka on Momo-sitting duty with the order "Keep him entertained! I don't want him to be bored all day." ("Hey, why do I always get stuck with the boring jobs?" Sokka had complained.) Then Aang had picked Zuko up and put Zuko on his shoulder and declared, "Time to fly!"
Unused to balancing on the airbender's shoulder, Zuko had fallen off. Aang had looked sheepish and apologized; apparently Momo liked to sit there. That had horrified Zuko; just because he was in Momo's body now didn't mean he was Momo, but already he was being treated like the lemur.
Now he and Aang were in a small clearing in the woods near the eastern side of the temple, a perfect place to have a flying lesson because "If you fall at first when trying to fly, you'll land on dirt, which isn't too painful," according to Aang. Zuko was less than enthused.
"Don't be so negative," Aang said in response to Zuko's scrawled comment. "Once you have complete control over your wings, you'll be able to fly anywhere you want! You wanted a day without pressure, right? You might as well take advantage of it."
One, I can't even control my tail properly. Two, you're pressuring me right now. Zuko underlined the words twice for emphasis.
"Aw, come on, Zuko." Aang gave him pleading puppy dog eyes, which just looked strange because Aang had to look down to do it at Zuko. "You've worked really hard teaching me this past week, and I know a lot more about firebending now. You deserve a break from being a Sifu; it's my turn now. I can be your Sifu Airman!" These words were accompanied by a salute to the sky and a thump of his staff against the ground.
Zuko pressed a paw to his forehead in exasperation. And I thought Sifu Hotman was bad... Something occurred to him and he looked back up at the airbender. You really know a lot more about firebending now?
Aang nodded, face earnest. "You're a great Sifu, Zuko."
Zuko had no response to that. He was saved from having to think one up when Toph spoke. "Less talking, more flying."
He'd forgotten the earthbender girl was there, sitting on a large rock on the other side of the clearing and flinging pebbles in the air. Apparently, the thought of Zuko flying was a source of great amusement for her.
Aang made a face. "Why are you here, Toph? If he's flying you won't be able to sense it with your feet."
"No, but I'll sense him hitting the ground." Toph smirked.
Aang huffed and turned back to Zuko. "Ignore her. You won't be doing that." He raised his staff and flicked it downward, wings unfurling from the top. "So I use my glider to fly, but I also need airbending to stay in the air. You can move your wings yourself though." He looked at Zuko hopefully. Zuko stared blankly back.
"You can open your wings now," Aang prompted.
I just did.
"No you didn't."
Well, I tried. Apparently it's not working. Oh, too bad, let's go back now. Zuko turned to scamper off into the trees, but Aang jumped in front of him with a little burst of air. "Try again!" he exclaimed.
It wasn't nearly as easy as he made it sound. Zuko could feel the folded wings under his arms, but it was one thing to feel them and entirely another to move them. He flexed all his new muscles experimentally, and his wings did twitch, but he had no idea how to unfold them.
"Picture it," Aang suggested. "Picture your wings spreading out."
This is stupid.
"No it's not. Just—you did it!"
Alarmed, Zuko hopped back a little as he inspected the new additions to his arms. They were not that big, and the membranes of his wings looked awfully thin. Could these things really support his weight in the air? Then again, he was a lemur now. He weighed a lot less than he had as a human.
"Okay," Aang said, delighted that his lesson was going well. "Spread out your arms and... I guess you should flap them."
Flap my arms. Because there were things protruding from his arms, Zuko could not write easily, so he resorted to giving Aang an are-you-serious look.
"Yeah! You know... like this!" Aang demonstrated.
After ten seconds, it was clear the airbender was getting a little too into his demonstration; it was beginning to turn into a strange sort of dance. Toph snorted from across the clearing.
"Twinkletoes, you look ridiculous."
Feeling foolish, Zuko moved his arms up and down. Nothing happened.
"You have to feel the air," Aang said, still waving his arms around. "Let the air guide you."
As a lemur, Zuko did not feel any more sensitive to the air as he had as a human. There was a light breeze blowing through the clearing though, and he stretched his arms out tentatively and brought them back and forth with the current. No one was more taken aback than he when he found himself hovering in the air for a few seconds.
"Good job!" Aang cried, startling him. He fell back to the ground with a loud thump. Toph snickered.
"Again!"
Zuko heaved a sigh as he raised his arms again. Why do I even bother?
Twenty minutes later, he'd succeeding in keeping himself in the air for nearly a minute. Aang decided it was time to actually begin flying.
After three tries, Zuko managed to retract his wings back into the fur of his arms. Don't you think you're rushing things? he wanted to know. It takes baby sparrowkeets days to fly. You're only giving me one morning.
Aang looked genuinely puzzled. "Only one morning? I thought we were going to do this all day."
Zuko balked. No way! He glanced up—the sun was still quite low in the sky. It wasn't even mid-morning yet. We can't. You need to practice your firebending.
"But you're Momo right now. How are you going to teach me?"
"Even if he doesn't teach you firebending today, Twinkletoes, we can always work on your earthbending," Toph called. "You're far from being an earthbending master."
Aang winced. He looked back down at Zuko and whispered, "Okay, you can try to teach me."
A rock sailed past his head, barely missing his left ear. "I heard that!"
Let's start, Zuko began to write, but Aang glanced at the words and shook his head. "You can teach me after you fly a little bit."
Zuko scowled. For some reason, the airbender was determined about that. He'd better get it over with then.
He raised his arms. The wings came out more easily this time, and he focused on the air currents, moving with them. After a moment, he was hovering in the air again.
"Okay," Aang said. "Now you have to think about moving forward. You should probably flap your wings too—when I fly, I use airbending to direct the currents around my glider, but you'll have to use your wings to help you."
Okay, I can do this, Zuko thought. Just fly a little bit and then he'll leave me alone about it.
It was probably the lemur's body's instinct that made it happen. He moved his arms and thought about going forward, and then he was gliding through the air.
"Yeah!" Aang cheered. "You did it!"
He was going much faster than he'd planned to; he couldn't calculate how to control his speed yet. The air currents shifted and he shifted with them, swooping in a low circle around the clearing.
"Impressive," Toph said. "He hasn't hit the ground yet."
"Shh!"
Zuko hardly heard them; he was feeling oddly light. He'd felt brief moments like this before, when he was leaping through the air or jumping from rooftops as the Blue Spirit. It was a soaring, swooping feeling somewhere in the pit of his stomach that expanded and filled his chest. It made him feel like he was part of the wind, part of the air. He was above everything, he could do anything—
He crashed into a tree.
It was then as he lay on the ground by the tree trunk, disoriented and dizzy, Toph's laughter ringing in his ears, that he heard a strangled cry come from the direction of his bedroom in the temple. It wasn't his voice this time.
"Aang! Katara! Help! Come quick! Momo's learned how to firebend!"
Zuko pressed his face into his paws. I'm never going to wish for anything again for the rest of my life.
I had other ideas for this fic as well, but it's getting long and it's way overdue, so here you go.
Liked it? Hated it? Were the characters OOC? Did you see any spelling/grammar errors? Let me know.