Note: Yo! Just an odd cross-over here. For your future refrence and possibly reassurance there will be nearly 0% shipping in this. Some mentions of Mai or Tonks, but get ready for all the friendship because that's what's happening.
A shout pierced the mists of those hallowed grounds. From the depths of murky water a young man broke through, gasping and coughing on the mythic air. He clutched at his chest, a wince. He clawed at the raised roots, a curse. All around, a stagnant world of what once was, what is, and what will be swirled around him in dizzying shadows. It was terrifying. His breath caught. Everything was utterly terrifying.
This sepia world with the occasional blotch of color made nearly blinding by the simple pinciple that everything else was just so dull. It was foreign and alien and completely unexplainable.
He struggled some more in the brown water, cringing at the near iridescent surface that floated slick with some strange oil. A foot caught on a submerged and very invisible rock, eliciting yet another line of profanity. He stumbled, sloshing and splashing. The strange atmosphere smelled of heavy incense like smoky sandalwood and heady rose. It was nearly intoxicating. He stumbled some more.
A low island pressed above the water level. It was carpeted with sandy brush and twisted, wiry trees. He crawled onto the bank completely unsure why everything was such a struggle. Looking up, his eyes traveled across a figure folded in meditation before him. The creature peered down hands breaking from lotus position to rest on his bony hips.
"Would you mind keeping it down?" it asked irritably. "You are causing enough of a commotion without gasping like some misplaced salmon-tuna." the young man squinted at the odd and annoyed being. Was that a monkey? Just a monkey? Said monkey seemed to read the boy's mind.
"You think I am a mere animal, young prince?" there was a hint of humor in the being's voice. The young man continued sprawled on the ground blinking slowly. "I am Hanuman, Guardian of the Gate and Servant of Rama." he lifted from his meditation and looked upon the boy. "And you, mere mortal, are Prince Zuko, Son of Firelord Ozai and Lady Ursa, Great Grandson of Firelord Sozin and the 248th Flame Avatar, Avatar Roku." Zuko, because that was the young man's name, was caught in surreal confusion. His hoarse voice rang through the dense air.
"Where am I?"
At this, Hanuman laughed.
"You do not know of this place, my mortal, young prince?" Silence continued between either being. "This is a place of timelessness and a place of aging, a place of fullness and a place of emptiness, a place of life and a place of death. This is the place that is and the place that is not. Young fire prince, as Guardian of the Gate I welcome you to the Spirit World. May you tread both decisively and cautiously and may you know that nothing in this realm is ever what it seems."
A cloud of timelessness passed over as Zuko drew a sharp breath. Things stood still. It floated by, the tail end like a gust and time kicked up a breeze through the rattling bamboo. The Spirit World. Aang had told him about it before, but never did he say it was this strange. To Hanuman, he stood with far more grace than when he arrived and croaked a simple "Why?"
"Because you died." the Guardian of the Gate shrugged with little sympathy.
"I died?"
"Well mostly died."
"Mostly? What does that even mean?" Zuko's indignant words shattered the calm around the island. They echoed with sharp edges over the glass-smooth water and the surreal swamp responded with something akin to the beat of a massive drum. It rolled over them and ruffled Zuko's mysteriously dry hair. Hanuman's whiskers stood on end.
"You should be calm Mortal Prince. There are greater deities than myself here and many are gathering to decide your fate."
"My fate? How can I be dead and have a fate?"
"Mostly dead."
Zuko growled. This monkey was a more irritating version of his uncle, spouting cryptic nothings while Zuko snatched at straws.
"You're seriously going to have to tell me what that means." he said lowly. The monkey merely sank back into lotus position and peeked with one brown eye.
"Your friend will tell you. It is not my job. Now wait and be quiet." Zuko huffed and began "But-" only to be droned out by Hanuman's excessive "Om". The prince scowled and sat with his back to the deity, looking out into the vast swamp. He shivered.
Time did not pass. There was an occasional lurch though, like cart wheels from mud. Zuko could feel when time came and went as it swept through the land like an errant wind. The air lulled with intoxicating tastes of fragrant flowers. He wanted to sleep, but he was awake. The drum bounced taut, again over the water ever looming. He wanted to be awake, but he was sleeping.
Everything was a paradox. He felt the warm light of sun in the day all while feeling the cool chill of the moon at night. He inhaled when he exhaled and exhaled when he inhaled. The air was wet when it was dry. The sand was grit when it was smooth. The water was choppy when it was placid. Everything contradicted. Nothing seemed right.
Possibly the strangest part was Zuko's acceptance of all the oddity. The only thing that truly bothered him was the scent of ozone cutting lightly though the incense cloud. It brought the burning back to his chest and when he put his hand to the ache he pictured a keen, amber-eyed face distorted. As he withdrew he imagined the sun tattooed on his palm like it was seared under the tattered fabric of his tunic. Sun hands. Son of Agni. Balling the shape into his fists, Zuko was sure he was being watched and not by Hanuman who was still meditating. He curled into himself with a wary glance over his shoulder. Time paused.
Above him, a phantom pressed through the mist announcing presence with the tight slap of a Kabuki drum. Zuko looked up and saw himself.
"Hello young disciple." the mask spoke with quiet laughter, ghastly and blue. The grinning visage floated massively in the air surrounded by a dark, smoky cloud. It reminded Zuko of the first time he was the Blue Spirit. After dashing free through the night, swinging his swords as he wished, the exiled prince had knelt on the bank along the calm river and saw the black reflection of his alter-ego in the moon light. The way darkness pooled in the eyes and mouth gave the mask an empty look, but it laughed all the same.
"Are you afraid, Mortal?" Zuko shook his head dumbly, less frightened than he was dumbfounded.
"Good." the spirit hung above him like the tentitive hold of a boulder perched on a cliff side.
"I am the Blue Spirit, for that you are aware of, Dear Disciple. Trickster and mischief maker of both the Spirit and the Elemental World, I am feared, but not respected. I am the Guardian of the theater and playwrights and, of course, the scrounge of the Fire Nation, much like you are, Mortal." the mask paused from its introduction, mouth still fixed in the haunting grin that never moved even in speech. "We are very much alike, am I correct, Zuko?" another nod
"But there is just one thing you lack as my most efficient disciple." a breath behind the glazed surface "Do you know what that is?" the mask suddenly swooped down in a rattling of hand drums and Zuko found himself staring into a pair of black holes behind the white rims of the eyelids. He was speechless and perhaps a little frightened with the disembodied face staring him down.
"What you lack, my dear disciple, is humor."
"Humor." came less of a question and more of a statement from Zuko.
"Yes humor. And spontaneity. Everything you have done under my mask was too stiff and deliberate."
Zuko quirked his sole eyebrow.
"And what am I supposed to do about this 'lack of humor'?"
The mask tilted as if contemplating.
"That is where we face our dilemma, disciple. You are mostly dead and until the Council of Greater Spirits decides your fate you will remain here." Zuko was sure he didn't want to stay in a bizarre swamp for an indefinite amount of time. The Blue Spirit seemed to comprehend this as it continued.
"So I decided it would be in both our benefit if I were to send you someplace during this deliberation. Someplace where you will learn less gloom and more mischief."
"You want me to... Misbehave?"
"Of course I do. Is there a problem for you?"
"I'm a Prince. That should serve as a proper explanation, don't you think?"
The mask laughed full out and Hanuman grumbled behind them.
"Mortals are mortals, disciple. Lineage matters little to spirits. You are a medium of my teachings- and a very good one may I add. Be you royalty or peasantry, I only care of your effectiveness." Zuko opened and closed his mouth to little effect, appearing all the misplaced salmon-tuna Hanuman accused him of sounding like earlier.
"If you object, I welcome you to stay indefinitely in the Spirit World."
The exiled prince deliberated his immediate fate- one that somehow still existed even though he had supposedly lost his life. That must have came with the 'mostly dead' thing. He could either remain in a painfully perplexing world of contradictions or travel to some unknown place with unknown people in search of his missing humor.
"What are the conditions?"
"Conditions? The Blue Spirit has no need for conditions. You should know this, disciple."
Zuko groaned. The deity of mischief. So much for a straight answer.
"Any idea how long the deliberations will take?"
"How long?" the Blue Spirit let out a short, loud 'Hah!'. "Have you not realized by now? The Spirit World has no measurable time. You may as well ask a hog-monkey how many scales it has on its fins. It could feel like minutes or it could feel like years." another groan from the banished prince.
"Now if you were to take my deal" the spirit continued, mask rising again to where it originally appeared "You will wait three moons. And the things you will learn, my disciple! I will be proud to have such a well-rounded prophet- living or dead."
"Living or dead?"
"Well, that is what the Council is deciding. You are surprisingly important to them- although not nearly as much as you are to me."
A quiet pause fell, only broken by Hanuman's 'Om'.
"Zuko, my dear disciple. Would I offer you this choice if it was not beneficial to you? More importantly, if it was not beneficial to myself?" the mortal prince shook his head, uncertain
"I don't know."
"Please do decide, my disciple. Here is another argument in my plan's favor. I am sure you have heard of the spirit Koh?" an nod "well, the Council expelled him after all that Avatar Kuruk business so he is wondering around somewhere as we speak. I do not doubt he would find the face of a young fire prince quite a nice addition to his collection- especially a face as... Distinct as your own."
Zuko had to admit, the Blue Spirit struck a pretty hard bargain with that bit of information. Feeling the coarse-but-not-coarse sand under his fingers while the time that did not pass passed by, he knew this world would drive him to an edge before the Council of Greater Spirits even got fully into their debates. Or Koh could steal his face before he went mad. Either outcome wasn't too bright.
Looking up at the mask in its dark folded smoke, Zuko pulled a somewhat unsure smirk. His amber eyes were a different story, though; they flashed bright in the earthy swamp, laden with determination few could hope to rival. The Blue Spirit waited expectantly.
"Alright. I do it."
And with the beat of a drum the mask continued grinning.
Sirius Black had more than enough problems, thank you very much. They came in all sorts of shapes and sizes. First and foremost was full moon shaped and fading fast in the bleak morning light. It involved a friend with too much pride and a blood thirsty beast that happened to be the same friend. Also remarkably bothersome was the Voldemort shaped problem that had the escaped convict running through a forest in the first place. There were other issues, of course- like the one that looked suspiciously like Cornelius Fudge's lime green bowler. That one issued a reward for his arrest. The ministry problem originated from another detestable issue- one that was distinctly rat formed.
Running in dog form over woodland and moors, Sirius wished with great fervor that no other problem would present its self on that overly hectic day. Whatever listened to the wishes of mortals or the hopes and dreams of normal people laughed at the Black Heir. That great being simply chuckled and plucked a few constellations from the sky.
"Poor, poor Sirius Black" it intoned to no one in particular "The stars simply aren't in your favor."
After observing nuclear fusion with remarkable calm, the deity would throw the celestial body to the ground with an other great shout of laughter.
"Let there be problems!" and thus more problems for Sirius Black were born.
Possibly the biggest and most unfortunately placed problem was the boy shaped one residing just next to one of the flat moor rocks the dog animagus found himself leaping over. It was wedged along the far jutting edge in an impossible blind spot, not visible until one was literally on top of it.
Sirius felt a padded foot press onto something that wasn't hard rock or damp ground. He spun in shock, spying the form he had just stepped on. It groaned. It rolled over. It looked at Sirius.
It was definitely a boy and the wizard definitely had no idea what to do with this problem. Over one side of his face ran a livid scar far different from any healed wound Sirius had ever seen. Sure, there was Harry's lightening bolt and Dumbledore's Underground map (something Sirius regretted ever seeing as it hid on the headmaster's knobby knee under those gaudy robes) and Remus's werewolf scars, but never had he spied something so massive and all encompassing. Behind it was a slit of an eye, poorly matching its slanted neighbor, but both a rich amber color. Barring a good third of the boy's face, he could be called quite handsome with pale skin, high cheekbones and a narrow nose.
The stranger seemed to be terribly confused by Sirius's presence. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before hissing in pain. The animagus watched as the boy pushed himself up with obvious effort. In exhaustion, the boy tilted his head to the sky and nearly slumped back down. Sirius took this distraction as an opportunity to transform. Hopefully the stranger before him would be too out of it to connect the dog glimpsed earlier with the tattered man that stood in its place. The boy seemed to notice anyway, snapping his head back to peer at Sirius with suspicious, golden eyes.
"When did you get here?" his voice was hoarse and hinted at a slight accent- maybe American.
"Just now." Sirius supplied "Saw you out here and thought you might need some help."
The boy let out a huff which could have been interpreted as breathy laughter or a sniff of distain. He closed his eyes briefly, single eyebrow drawn into a furrow.
"Where's that... Animal."
"You mean the dog?"
"Uh... Yes. The... Dog." he opened his eyes again and began staring unabashedly at Sirius. How odd. What person didn't know what a dog was?
"Saw him run off over there. Think I might have scared him away." this accompanied by a generic wave of the hand in a random direction. The boy nodded and grimaced.
"Are you alright?" the wizard asked, eyeing the stranger's singed and bruised appearance. The boy seemed to consider this, sooty fingers clutched the burnt and torn fabric at his chest, before replying shortly "No.".
He pulled his hand back to reveal a fresher, but equally painfully looking mark as the one on his face. It marred the skin along his sternum like a red and vicious sun bolt with strange tendrils of fading rose. Sirius wondered how someone could aquire a wound like that. Was this boy a wizard? Was the injury from a curse? He didn't articulate these questions, though.
"Blimy." came Sirius's very eloquent response. The young man looked rather unimpressed and in a fair amount of pain. He still managed to punch the bridge of his nose, though, in some well practiced art of long-suffering.
"Look, I'm not really sure where I am... So could you... uh tell me where I can get help for this?"
Sirius balked.
"And how are you going to get there once I tell you? You'll walk?" Sirius had only known the boy for a little over a minute, but it wasn't hard for the convict to detect the hubris. Wounded men couldn't afford pride- neither could escaped criminals for that matter. For Merlin's sake, the kid had a hole blasted into his chest! There was only a sliver of a chance that he could make it to help without dying on the way. The likelihood of things going the way the boy seemed to hope they would was about as probable as Fudge showing up right then and there with a hug and an Order or Merlin, First class for the murderer Sirius Black. There would be plenty of rainbows too, and a flock of winged bowler hats and rats on sticks and underground maps printed on everything. Before his musings on impossibilities descended into a perplexing haze that strongly resembled a Salvador Dali painting, Sirius was brought back by yet another nose pinch from the boy. He visibly gritted his teeth with a show of tentatively restrained anger.
"Will you stop messing with me. Can't you see I actually need help?" the boy's voice was strained with both pain and temper and his eye's flashed a fierce copper.
Sirius shrugged.
"I could always take you with me. I was just going to a friend who I'm sure can patch you up." the animagus tried to block that incessant voice that reminded him why he was really sent to see Remus. Instead, he grumbled another, equally unfortunate product of his thoughts.
"He'll patch you up as soon as he finishes patching up himself."
"What?"
"Nothing kid. Do you have a name?" a long pause proceeded in which it was unclear if the boy even remembered his name.
"Where am I?" came the rather non-sequitur response.
"I hope that's not your name. That would be a bloody awful name." the scarred boy grit his teeth.
"No it's not. Now tell me where I am."
"Well! Someone's pushy. If you need to know that much, we're on a moor- the North York Moor to be specific." Sirius was feeling a bit petulant "I believe the Muggles made this into a national park. Shame our government can't worry about easy things like what should and shouldn't be a park." he added quite uselessly as the kid watched, a mix of confusion and irritation spreading across his mangled visage.
"A moor?" he asked shortly, still not supplying Sirius with a name.
"Yes. A moor." the convict parroted with equally annoyed brevity. A blank look met his retort.
"You know, the great and wild moors of Great Britain? What are you doing out here without knowing what they're called? Looking for Heathcliff?"
"What do you mean, Great Britain?"
"Merlin." Sirius really didn't have time for this.
"What human being doesn't know about Great Britain? Did you hit your head along with your chest or are Americans actually as dull as people say they are?" the boy took offense to this and made to get up aggressively. The effect was successfully ruined by the wound pointed out in Sirius's short rant.
"I'm not stupid." it was obvious the kid meant to put more venom into his words, but he just couldn't muster the strength. Sirius closed his eyes in exasperation, like said before, he really didn't have time for this. Reminded by the tight schedule, he copied the boy's earlier gesture and wedged his nose forcibly between thumb and index finger.
"I never said you were. Look, I can offer help since you're obviously in a bad way, but I need to know your name." it wouldn't be all that helpful to the soon to be formed Order if Sirius got himself killed by some scarred little Death Eater Jr. It was always good to be cautious around strangers- even if they didn't know what bloody Great Britain was. Maybe he was amnesiac.
" It's Zuko." huh. Kid did remember his name.
"Well Zuko" the name was foreign on the wizard's tongue like spices of the far east "You can call me... Call me Snuffles."
"Snuffles?" came an unbelieving response.
"My parents were quite the strange couple." that wasn't really a lie and eccentric naming of a more serious type happened all over his family tree. Zuko was not all that common of a name either; Sirius had never heard of it. Maybe in the extremely sheltered part of America or Korea or Thailand where no one knew about the United Kingdom it was frequently used. Maybe not.
He shuffled over to Zuko glad that at least Remus's house was only about a mile from this point.
"Alright kid. Lets get you some help." without little warning he hefted the teen up, feeling exceedingly scrawny next to Zuko's lean, muscled form. Living in a cave didn't really do wonders for one's physique.
They started the slow progression down the desolate little peak they had found themselves on, dragging through the purpled heather under an increasingly grey sky. Sirius wished on a rock- the stars were invisible in daylight and would still be behind the cloudy night sky- that maybe the thing that controlled the fate of men would stop messing with him.