Before you sink your teeth into this, I would like to state that concerning this story there is a very important notice at the bottom. Otherwise, enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own Avatar: The Last Airbender. It was simply my childhood.
The beach was all but deserted save for the boy. He was sitting near the waves, staring into their murky depths as if they were able to give him the answers that he wanted. There was nothing unusual about the boy in appearance really. Black hair, pale skin, the usual gold of a fire-bender's eyes. However, this boy's eyes were more of a pale gold rather than molten, a fact that seemed to disturb most of the occupants of his house, whispered about behind closed doors and out of earshot. But of course, no one mentioned this to him.
The real question was why a small boy, barely older than six years of age, had been left unattended on a beach upon an island that had once been known for roaming dragons. He, his sister and their mother had been brought to the island as guests of their Uncle, a man who was currently attempting to make peace with the inhabitants whilst also threatening them with the destruction of the dragon race (not hard since there were all of four dragons left). Of course, the little boy didn't know any of this and it was surprising that his mother had yet to notice his absence. She was usually the first to come looking.
The boy let out a long suffering sigh, wondering what it was that had turned this day so wrong. In theory, he was accompanied by two of only three people who cared about him and the other was being kept in check by their mother. And yet she still had to show him up, a mocking smile as the blue dragonlet crept up to her and not him, the eldest. It would be just another thing that she could do better at than him and he had decided that it was better to walk away rather than bear another argument with her. It was easier to avoid an oncoming fight than run straight into it.
However, the boy hadn't noticed a pair of golden eyes watching him from the bushes. Slowly, the deep red dragonlet crept forwards, pausing whenever the boy shifted or made a sound (and being a small child and no exception to the rule that all small children must move around every five seconds, this was a frequent occurrence). The boy didn't see the dragonlet at all until something brushed against his arm, a soft crooning sound coming from its throat. He jumped sideways, away from the creature and stared as the thing gave him a hurt glance, jumping away just as quickly as he did. Fear, hurt and curiosity warred within the creature's eyes and the boy paused in his movements to run away. This tiny creature was just as afraid as he was.
"H-Hello," the boy said tentatively, slowing lowering himself back to the ground. The dragonlet leaned away from him, teeth bared at the sound of his voice. "It's alright," the boy said, voice now calmer and soothing rather than afraid. "I won't hurt you." He held out a hand, offering the little thing comfort with his own small body. The dragonlet sniffed his hand, decided that since this was not something ready to harm it or that it wished to eat, slinked closer, coming to rest draped over the boy's lap. This action revealed a gash in the creature's left flank, something that was not very visible on the red skin although now very apparent.
"You're an outcast too, huh," the boy said, small hands tracing the smooth curves of the dragonlet's head and body. He was no longer afraid, rather, curious. His sister had a dragonlet except hers was bigger than this one, more ferocious and would attack anything that moved even an inch in its direction. This dragonlet was far friendlier, although it had proved more that deadly if provoked. The stench of a fresh kill surrounded the creature, clearly fending for itself. The dragonlet crooned in agreement, nuzzling the boy's hands back. A smile graced the little boy's features, for once happy on this afternoon.
They sat like that for a while, boy and baby dragon, content in each other's presence, until the boy grew bored as all little boys do. Anyway, he hadn't come to the sea just to mope. There was something he was curious about too, something he had yet to show to his parents although he wasn't sure he wanted to. Father would probably attempt to kill him and Mother would tell him to hide it or not do it at all, which made him sad. He wanted to practice at every opportunity and now was one of them. The beach was deserted save for him and the dragonlet. And his new friend would surely approve.
"Wanna see something really cool?" the boy asked the dragon, shifting to stand. The dragonlet jumped from his lap and lay upon the sand, eyes waiting and curious. Slowly, the boy closed his eyes and slid into a stance that had not been seen by one alive for many years. Breathe in… and out… the voice in the boy's mind whispered, encouraging him on. A determined little smile played about the boy's lips as he began to move and as he did, the air moved with him. A rustle of leaves captured the dragonlet's attention, caught in the swirling breeze around the little boy and it jumped, snapping at them. The boy opened his eyes and laughed at the dragon's enthusiasm as it turned excited golden eyes on him, almost seeming to say do more, do more! And he complied. He shifted again, this time stamping his feet while still move his arms in graceful swirls. The breeze kept going but now pillars of earth shot upward, the dragonlet chasing around them, flying, flapping and jumping on or through the path they made. It jumped and crooned, high and happy, and the boy's laughter mixed into it. He stopped the earth movements, but carried on with the air and the dragonlet leapt into the column, dancing with the leaves. It turned to the boy, eyes wide and it was almost as if the boy could hear a voice whispering dance with me!
And he did.
It was not the first fire-bending that he had accomplished, but certainly the most powerful. A dance that was so ancient that it was taught by the statues of the elders, although the boy had never seen them. The breeze died, but both boy and dragon moved in perfect synchronicity, dancing together in a form that had yet to be seen by the royal family in nearly fifty years. The boy didn't know this, or the dragonlet, but the two observers did.
The woman had finally noticed the absence of her son, turning to find him gone. She trusted her brother-in-law and the rest of the Sun Warriors (because they were the only civilised words for them) with her daughter and new pet to leave in search of her favourite. She cursed herself for leaving him out, knowing that self-confidence was something that her son lacked due to constant lashings by her husband. It was careless, especially for her and she was ashamed to say that she had almost forgotten him entirely. She had left the moment she had noticed it, missing the hurt and angry expression on her daughter's face as she rushed off, followed by the leader of the Warriors. This angered the little girl more because she was the one with the dragon not her stupid elder brother who couldn't do anything right.
The woman had reached the beach in time to see the end of the air dance and the beginning of the fire dance, stifling her gasps. This was something she should have anticipated, something that had been going on for at least a month. After all, her son spent an awful lot of time doing god knows what in the ruins where few seldom went and was one of the few things he hid from her. She could understand why.
"Zuko…" she whispered, now more frightened for his life than ever. Her son would die if her husband found out about this! And that was something that she could not allow to happen. However she had forgotten the man behind her.
"A talented child with a gift from the spirits," the Warrior observed quietly, his voice reserved so not to disturb the child and spirit animal below. The woman, known to most as Princess Ursa, turned her head sharply, all courtly manners lost in her fear and confusion for her son.
"What do you mean?" she snapped harshly, glaring daggers at the man. He simply shook his head.
"We here know only what Ran and Shaw reveal to us. This child and his sister are the great grandchildren of the instigators of the war with their strengths and weaknesses. It seems only natural therefore that the spirits have blessed this child with the gifts of the Avatar." Princess Ursa kept a concerned look upon her face but she could not hide the slight quiver of her lower lip. The man respectively bowed his head so as not to see the young woman in such turmoil and to give her time to check her emotions.
"Why would the spirits do such a thing? Surely there is still the Air Nomad Avatar? And if not, then why have we not heard of a Water Avatar or one from the Earth Kingdom?" The man gave her a small shrug.
"I am afraid that Ran and Shaw did not divulge that information. But it seems that Prince Zuko has found the other dragonlet. I was sure she had starved to death." The Priest said the words quietly, but Ursa still heard, turning to give him a sharp look. The man sighed and gestured towards the little red dragon now playfully fighting with her son. "The small one, Junsuina, was run out of the nest by the other, Lengkù. She put up little or no fight and we had not seen her since then, more than a month ago. She is smaller than she should be, thinner too, but healthy for a supposed runt of the nest." Ursa blinked slowly, taking this in. It was crucial she knew all about the creatures before her. Her grandfather's dragon had been named Fang, slightly less complicated than Junsuina and Lengkù, but nonetheless, he had been powerful. She had also heard tell that Fang had been driven out of the nest by Kirai, Sozin's dragon, but had still survived. Junsuina was far from the powerless little thing they had originally thought her to be, especially with this new information she now had.
"Sometimes, we must feign being weak to return to fight another day," she said quietly, watching her son. The Warrior nodded, withdrawing. Ursa gathered her feelings up and pasted a worried look upon her features as she descended the slope. She would be having a long conversation with Zuko later, but for now she simply needed to hold him and know that he was alright. However, before she reached the bottom of the slope, opening her mouth to call her son's name calmly, something blue shot past her at lightning speed. Her worried call now turned into a scream.
"ZUKO!" Zuko barely had time to raise his head before the thing was on him. He cried out as one claw sheared at his face, missing only by millimetres due to the fact that her son had raised his arm in the nick of time. That didn't stop the claws from raking deep into his flesh, tearing to the bone. His scream was probably the worst sound Ursa had ever heard. The blue dragonlet reared back, ready for another strike… and was suddenly thrown backwards from the force of the red dragonlet slamming into it. The pair rolled across the sand, struggling and snarling, faint wisps of flame that was yet to be kindled rising from the mouths. Just as it seemed that the blue dragon was about to win, the red one bit deep into the joint connecting one stout leg to its body. The blue dragon howled, throwing itself away from the now savage little red blur, staring into pale golden eyes with an odd look of fear before scampering over to its new master. Azula surveyed the thing with disgust, shrieking as it tried to rub its bloody shoulder against her, crying pitifully in pain.
"Get away from me you stupid useless beast!" Azula screamed, a tiny jet of flames lashing out at the thing.
"Princess, you shouldn't do that!" one Warrior shouted as she struggled to get away. Ursa didn't know where to turn to fist. Zuko was pale, his injured arm cradled in his hands, whimpering as the red dragonlet, now satisfied that her new spirit brother was no longer in danger, came to lie beside him on the grass, nudging him softly and crooning in a soothing tone. Azula, on the other hand, was stuck between a dragonlet that she really didn't want any more and the Sun Warriors, who were warning her not to send the pitiful thing away. Ursa knew that if she did that, especially after the bonding she had made with it, she would rip her soul to pieces and be forever after scarred. Azula seemed intent upon doing just that.
It was Iroh in the end that saved her from the choice. Noticing the commotion, he lent one hand on Ursa's arm and whispered, "Go to Azula. I can handle Zuko's wounds." She nodded gratefully and glided towards her daughter catching her as she squirmed away from the beast that was following her like a lost puppy, its eyes wide and confused.
"Azula," she said in her firmest admonishing voice. Her daughter stilled, knowing that that tone of voice meant trouble of she did the wrong thing. That usually meant more time away from father and instead learning how to be a lady and not a warrior. "You have bonded with Lengkù. He is yours forever and to throw him away would be unfair. Dragons are simply creatures like us in another form. Treat them with respect." The girl scowled, wondering how she was supposed to deal with the shame of having a permanently deformed dragon on her hands.
"But he's useless! He couldn't stand up against that runt over there!" She gestured vaguely towards where Iroh was kneeling over Zuko, having made a makeshift sling and bandages from Zuko outer tunic. Ursa would have said something if it didn't mean Zuko losing too much blood. Junsuina seemed to trust Iroh enough to bandage Zuko's arm but was still keeping a close and distrustful eye on the man. Sometimes, Ursa wouldn't blame her.
"This was a fight between two inexperienced dragons. Losing your temper over one little scuffle and sending him away will only do both you and Lengkù harm." She pushed her daughter a little forcefully towards the dragons, ignoring her daughter's furious look. "You will look after him or I will increase your lessons with Lady Jenga." Azula shuddered at the mention of her manners tutor and turned to the bloodied dragon in front of her.
"Well, if you can't help me out by fighting," she whispered, glaring at the thing as it licked its wound and gave her an apologetic stare, "perhaps you can help me in other ways to annoy ZuZu."
1 week later
"And what can I do for you My Lady?" Master Piandao said, looking rather unimpressed by the child set before him. The boy stared back insolently, his right arm in a sling. A small red dragon slithered around his feet giving him an almost identical look to his own, unimpressed with the swords-master. After a few moments of deliberation the thing simply bared its fangs in a growl before settling on the ground, its eyes fixed firmly upon him. Piandao resisted the urge to snap at the boy to order the thing away. It wouldn't do to show weakness in the presence of royalty.
"I want my son trained." Piandao was not surprised by this request. Many nobles brought their children here to learn the art of the sword, annoyed when he turned them away. All apprentices must show that they are worthy, whatever their worth, before being taught by the master.
"And what has he brought me to show me his worthiness?" The little prince stared at up him critically, something that seemed out of place on a child that was too small and skinny for his age. Piandao had heard that there had been complications in the young prince's birth, coming nearly two full weeks before the healers had predicted and always being small and frail for his age. The child in front of him showed some signs of this but there was a determination and fierceness in those eyes that reminded the man of himself at the age of nineteen, always intent on proving himself to those who were better, faster and more talented than himself. It was disconcerting on a child's face.
"I haven't brought anything," the boy began, glancing around, the look suddenly gone and he looked now awkward and frightened like any six year old would be. "Nothing but my will and determination to learn." A glance behind towards his mother and the shade of an approving smile told Piandao all he needed to know. This boy was criticised by all around him as unworthy, unwanted but for his mother. An attachment that would have seemed weak if not for the fact that without her, he would have no one. No one but the dragon that watched him constantly, as if waiting for the hint of a threat. This would need some careful deliberation.
"Training under me means there will be no exceptions. I will not treat you as a prince and you will not treat me as a subject, do you understand?" Piandao wondered if he was being slightly harsh on the child. After all, he was only six. But Zuko surprised him by nodding.
"Yes, sir. I promise that I will treat you as a master and be a worthy student." How does this child know all these words? Piandao wondered. Any normal child of six would just be getting to the stage where they could pronounce words perfectly, no lisps, no 'r's pronounced as 'w's. This boy could not only talk properly, but as well as someone twice his age. Of course, he had more sense than to question this.
"Then we will begin at once," he stated, nodding to Princess Ursa who gave him a cursory nod back, a happy smile in place. He wondered whether that was for his benefit or her son's. Zuko just seemed wary all of a sudden, watching his mother as she turned away to leave.
"Do not worry Zuko. I shall return in a few hours. Enjoy your lessons with Master Piandao," she said softly, turning again to give her child a peck on the forehead. Zuko scowled but made no other move to move away from her, something that was odd for a small child. Most boys his age would start to be embarrassed by the mere presence of their parents, that or they would hide behind them constantly. Zuko had the attitude of neither.
Once the Princess was gone, Piandao gestured that the boy follow him and set off through the meeting room to a smaller one behind that opened onto the training courtyard. Piandao never chose a house that could not have a courtyard with multi purposes. His courtyard was a training ground, entertainment hosting and designed to please those guests that stayed with him. He did not expect too much from this boy. After all, he was still teaching his cousin, a boy who could have the potential to be a great swordsman if he applied himself further and sorted out his clumsy footwork. However, all fire-benders made the point that footwork only apparently mattered in katas rather than when moving around a battle ground, a fact that annoyed Piandao to no end. If one had to have perfect footwork for fire-bending, why not in this discipline too?
Shaking off his thoughts he gestured for the boy to sit at the table, bringing over a sheet of parchment and brushes and ink. He set them before the boy who studied them carefully before looking up at his master carefully, suspecting that all was not as it seemed. Smart child Piandao thought, knowing there was more to the eye than ever before. The dragon had curled up in the fireplace, content to watch him over the curls of its own body, eyes a glinting pair of golden flecks behind hooded red scales. Piandao discreetly shuddered, wishing that Princess Ursa had taken the creature with her.
"The art of the sword takes more than just brute strength. You must have both inner balance and a sense of self to conquer the world around you. Since you are already injured, and I am certain your father would give me no thanks for making things worse," If your father took the time to notice you, Piandao thought, watching as the boy flinched slightly with the mention of his father, "the task I am about to set you is designed to help you discover these things for yourself. Today is humility. On one side of the page you shall write what you believe are your best qualities, on the other your worst." This type of exercise would show which way the prince's mind thought. Was he prideful and arrogant? Or introverted and self-loathing? Piandao had seen both types wander through his doors, anything from brutes to quiet snivelling children, and he normally could tell which was which the moment he set eyes on them. Zuko, however, seemed to be neither.
A sudden thought occurred to Piandao. Could this boy even write with his left hand? He assumed that the boy was right handed, as most people were, but to his surprise the boy picked up the brush thoughtfully, before writing headings on both sides of the page in neat calligraphy. He raised an eyebrow but kept his voice in the same commanding tone that he used all the time.
"Is that your natural writing hand Prince Zuko?" The boy looked up, startled at the sudden break of silence so soon. His head tilted to the side a moment, confused.
"I don't understand what you mean." There were no courtesies this time, his voice confused and defensive and yet still vaguely polite.
"One must not write about themselves in the hand they cannot use honestly. If that is not your natural writing hand, then it is not your natural sword hand and therefore you are not writing honestly." He glared down at the young boy who scowled and suddenly the pride that all nobles had reared its ugly head.
"Well, it's not for you to say which is my natural writing hand and which is not! And how can you tell if what I write with my right hand is as truthful as what I write with my left?" Pale gold eyes were flashing in indignation as the boy continued, his next statement shocking the old man ever more. "If you must know I actually write with both hands depending on the day so I don't have a natural writing hand!" Piandao frowned. Ambidexterity was not an unknown trait in sword-craft but rare. Especially for one to have the ability naturally. Piandao himself favoured his right hand but had tried himself over the years to be just as proficient with his left hand so as to never be disadvantaged. It seemed a rare and potentially dangerous gift had been landed in his lap, ready to mould. And knowing this boy's blood, knowing all of this boy's blood, it wasn't astonishing that the boy in front of him was full of surprises.
"You will keep that disobedient tongue behind your teeth boy," Piandao warned, not letting a hint of his shock bleed through. Zuko's face froze instantaneously and Piandao wondered over the sudden terror flashing in those young eyes. The dragon in the fireplace reared its head, uncoiling and beginning to pace, angry with the emotional change he had caused in its young charge. A low growl emitted from its throat and Piandao laid a hand on his sword hilt, just in case. It would be a pity to kill the thing but self-defence came before the survival of a rare species. "Continue with your writing." Zuko relaxed rather visibly and turned his attention back to the paper, eyebrows creased as he thought. A disturbing thought ran through Piandao's own mind.
Zuko had tensed up, expecting to be hit. Somehow, through only a quick reprimand, Piandao had instilled the idea that he would bring the boy harm in Zuko's mind. But why? Come now Piandao, his mind murmured quietly, is it really that hard to know why he is so afraid of what you might do? And the truth was, it wasn't. After all make-up could only cover so much and Piandao had soon realised that however much Ursa may have been standing between her son and Ozai, there was still a considerable time that she couldn't be there for him. Long enough, that even at six years of age Zuko had come to the conclusion that speaking out or failure would mean pain.
An hour later, the page had only been half filled. There were slightly more things on the 'worst' side than the positive, but that was to be expected after that reaction. He was surprised though at how conservative the boy had been writing things down since the other six year olds that had come under his care had instantly written down all they were good at as if that would please him. But it struck Piandao as he took the sheet of paper from the boy and studied what he had written that these were pretty standard answers. In the positive side he had written things that most nobles before with 'prince', 'fire-bender' and 'better at…' among them and only vague answers such as 'unlucky' or 'slow' written upon the other. This boy was holding something back, Piandao could just sense it. But what?
Before he could begin to question the boy further, his cousin arrived. Lu Ten always made a show of entering the room with a look of barely disguised amusement on his face but Piandao knew that that was just his nature. Lu Ten was actually very easy-going for a noble, although had the same ruthlessness as his father. And apparently, many of his father's eccentricities too.
"Got any good tea brewing master?" the impertinent fourteen year old said as he joined them at the table. "I see Master Piandao's already introduced you to the boredom of the 'balance and self-worth' lessons, cousin," he continued, glancing down at Zuko's list. Piandao noticed his eyes darken slightly at what was written, or probably what was not written, before moving on to another topic entirely. "How's your arm holding up?"
"It's alright," the younger boy replied, giving his cousin a criticising look. "And I don't think these lessons are stupid. They let you know what is wrong with you and how you can improve them so you can turn your weaknesses into strengths." Both Lu Ten and Piandao were taken aback by that statement, although in very different ways. Lu Ten had the look of someone not used to being put in their place by six year olds (not that anyone ever was) but Piandao was surprised the boy had realised the truth behind his exercises. At last, someone who appreciated the time spent in the theory rather than the practical.
"If you say so, kid," Lu Ten said, looking a little put down, but ruffled his cousin's hair teasingly anyway. The dragon then reappeared, jumping into the gap between the cousins and laying her head on Zuko's lap as if to say 'this one's all mine'. Lu Ten jumped backwards, shaking his head. "I don't think we're ever going to have the same relationship again cousin. Your dragon loves all the attention."
"Junsuina hasn't had much of it in her life," Zuko said solemnly, giving the creature a surreptitious cuddle. It crooned and then turned to Lu Ten with curious eyes, approaching him slowly and warily but not, Piandao noticed, looking at him with anything pertaining to a threat. Perhaps he had simply had the wrong reaction towards the creature to give it such a bad impression of him that it thought he was the enemy?
"Err, Zuko?" Lu Ten said, squirming uncomfortably as the little dragon sniffed at him, "what's she doing?" Deciding that she liked the smell of him, Junsuina then curled up between them, draping her head over Zuko's lap and her tail over Lu Ten's. Zuko giggled at his cousin's panicked look.
"She likes you silly!" he said, sounding for the first time like a six year old and not four years older. Piandao hid the shade of a smile, knowing that he had to be the one to break up the little family moment and move the lesson back on to relevant topics. Such as sword-fighting and the art of killing.
"Since you seem to believe that you have already come upon internal balance Lu Ten, how about you give Zuko a demonstration of your abilities? If you manage to defeat Hull this time, I'll even let you have a shot at fighting me." He knew that stroking nobles' vanity was wrong but they fell for it every time, especially when attempting to impress members of their own family. Besides, Ursa would return soon and it wouldn't do for Zuko to get too bored. Focus had a thin line between boredom, especially when meditating.
After calling Hull to the yard, Piandao called up a servant to place out chairs for himself and Prince Zuko on the observation platform (also known as the top of the stairs) so that they could watch the oncoming match. It was very short and rather uninteresting really. Lu Ten spent too long trying to look good to actually be good and so, within five minutes, Hull had disarmed the prince and offered him the chance to yield. Zuko hesitantly patted Piandao on the arm, his injured arm around Junsuina almost like a stuffed toy but not so hard.
"Is Lu Ten a bad fighter?" Piandao could not help the laugh at the innocuous question and shook his head. Oh, how he wished that the young could stay this innocent forever!
4 years later
Zuko ran down the halls of the palace, ignoring the shouts and cries of alarm as he barrelled through numerous servants towards his cousin's chambers. Today was the day: the day that Lu Ten was leaving to join the ranks of the war. His cousin had refused the good position his birth would usually have given him, entering the ranks of the novice soldier a couple of years back, intent on working his way up like any other boy that joined the army. Uncle Iroh had not been too pleased with this but Lu Ten's easy nature and hard work got him through many promotions to Commander of his own unit, although this probably had to do with first rate fire-bending teachers, Master Piandao's daily swordsmanship lessons and the Dragon of the West as his father. However, none of this stopped Zuko for being terrified that he would never see his cousin again.
Behind him, Junsuina bounded to keep up, the corridors now too confined for her to fly. The dragon had reached the length of his bed, although still insisted that she could curl around him at night. The servants, none too happy about the scales they had to clean out of the sheets every morning, complained that it was high time the dragon was shooed into the gardens where Lengkù had long since been confined. Azula rarely visited her dragon, and if she did, it was only to hone her already prodigious fire-bending skills. She, of course, thought that learning how to fight with swords and other skills relating to some of Zuko's more… unconventional activities were useless, not to mention that she wasn't particularly good at them anyway. Fire-bending came much easier to her than it did, supposedly, to her ambidextrous brother, rarely seen without his dragon or a cake filched from the kitchen.
A maid screeched as Zuko ran under her arms that were filled with clean washing. Junsuina knocked the woman flying but neither paid much attention, Zuko only quietly thanking the fact that he was small for his age. His father had commented on this many times in the past but his mother had simply replied that he would grow in time and that girls grew faster than boys initially anyway. Zuko couldn't contend with this since his sister was nearly as tall as he was but she had been born in the middle of the day, at the sun's highest point. Zuko had been born in the dead of night, leading many to believe that the boy had little or no fire-bending prowess. Little did they know about him, his mother's and his uncle's quiet jaunts to Ember Island for more than just 'Love Amongst the Dragons'. It was still his mother's favourite play though.
Lu Ten was just finishing packing his bag when Zuko tumbled through his doors. He raised an eyebrow as his cousin picked himself off the floor and glanced behind him to check that Junsuina hadn't come to any harm.
"Did you forget to slow down for the doors cousin?" Lu Ten asked as Zuko caught his breath. He knew all about Zuko's little secret but had sworn never to speak about it to anyone to the boy, especially not in the palace where anyone could hear which was why, when Zuko went to practise, he would do so in the ruins of the old Throne Room where great grandfather Sozin had gotten his ass handed to him by Avatar Roku.
"I didn't think we would get back in time," Zuko panted, leaning against Junsuina as she curled around him. "I didn't want to let you leave without saying goodbye." Lu Ten smiled and wandered over to his cousin and ruffled his hair. Zuko gave him a scowl but it was very light compared to what he usually gave out, normally to those he didn't like.
"Did you really think I would leave before giving you something to remember you by?" Lu Ten said in feigned hurt.
"The soldiers outside are waiting to leave. I thought you would have to leave whether I had seen you or not," Zuko said quietly as Junsuina looped around his feet. Her head reached his knees and she sent Lu Ten a friendly growl as she wound past her spirit-brother and further into the room. The sounds of muttering servants could be heard through the open doors and Lu Ten concealed a smile at the regular bunch of complaints that Zuko usually left in his wake.
"Trust me, I wouldn't have left without at least saying goodbye," Lu Ten said, gently closing the doors and beckoned Zuko to follow him as he wandered over to a chest that he usually stored his best armour within. "Here. I know Master Piandao says that we have to forge our own but I had these specially forged for you by his master blacksmith. I think he approved." Lu Ten paused a moment trying to decipher the strange look that Piandao had given him when handing him the package.
"What is it?" Zuko asked as his cousin handed him a long package wrapped in red cloth.
"Open it. You'll see." Carefully, the boy pulled the cloth from the package to reveal a broadsword sheathed in a simple black leather scabbard. A small decorative piece of gold enveloped the end but Zuko was more concerned with the blade. Or rather, blades. He pulled the sword from the scabbard to find that they were in fact two swords, two halves of a whole. He stared at them a moment before looking up to his cousin, an excited glint in his eyes.
"Thank you Lu Ten!" he cried, hugging his cousin around the waist. Lu Ten laughed, ruffling his hair again before returning the hug.
"Now, you remember to practise Zuko. With the swords and the, err… other stuff too. I'll want a demonstration when I get back," he said, an amused glint in his eye.
"You have to promise to not die first," Zuko said, determination in his gaze as he pulled back. Lu Ten could see the worry in the younger boy's eyes and for a moment felt clueless as to what to do. After all, he was an only child. But years of looking after his cousins had taught him how to deal with younger children and he did consider Zuko a brother, no matter the fact that they had different parents. He carefully knelt before his cousin so that he could look the boy in the eye, hands on Zuko's shoulders.
"I promise you cousin, I will return no matter what." For a moment, Zuko believed him.
Ok, a few interesting notes in case anyone was wondering:
It took me forever to decide on the dragon names (since they are an integral part of this story, they needed names). At first I made them up and then decided to look up some names and then decided that I wanted them to mean something so I messed around with words and meanings on Google Translate dangerous business I know. Please don't kill me for whether or not they are correct). For note, 'Junsuina' was pure in Japanese and 'Kirai' hate also in Japanese. 'Lengku' took me messing around with several Oriental languages and in simple Chinese (again, Google translate, nor sure whether from either Mandarin, Cantonese or whether it's something different, I apologise) it meant 'unfeeling'. By now I think you've realised that I was attempting to match dragon names/characteristics with their masters/friends. For I believe that Azula buries her feelings on everything to appear as cold as she does and being unfeeling does not mean that you are emotionally dead.
Anyway, enough of that, why I was really putting an author's note here. This, as you may have guessed, is actually a prologue to a story. One that I may or may not post, depending on the future. This prologue was more of a trial run, to see what people thought of it and whether or not I should continue posting. BUT, and this is a HUGE BUT, I have AT LEAST four other stories to finish first, which I am promising myself I will finish before starting on this megalith (seriously guys, longest chapter I've written and this is the prologue). So I hope you will forgive me for putting it as complete since, technically, this can stand alone and may not continue anyway as I am about to start my exams, need to finish a bunch of other stories, finish A Levels (last year of school in Britain) and then head off to uni next year. So lots happening and not much time. Hoping to work over the Summer holidays to get a whole bunch done before I start throwing weight at more exams.
Ok, notice over with but just quickly, I have to say thank you to Vathara and their story 'Embers' for being the inspiration to this.