Hi! This is my first story here on FanFiction and I've put a lot of effort into it. This story takes place 2 or 3 years before the start of the show, and it will be Zuko x Yue eventually.
Reviews would be greatly appreciated, though I'm not demanding any. All I ask is that you explain your opinions. If you liked the story, that's great, and if you hated it, that's fine too. Be brutal, just add constructive criticism. Thank you, and enjoy.
Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender, or any of it's characters.
A boy lay sprawled on the ground, his pale hand trailing listlessly in the cool, refreshing pond. Birdsong trilled through the sweltering air, a reminder that spring was well underway. The exotic flowers were in full bloom, adding color to the otherwise drab landscape. Sighing contentedly, the teen shut his golden eyes, savoring the reassuring heat of the sun on his skin. He had always found solace in the rays of the celestial body, and he had good reason to seeing as it was his power source, the provider of his style of bending.
However, today the peace was short-lived as he heard the unwelcome call of his sister, echoing around the palace garden, "Oh, there you are! Hiding from father again, aren't you?"
Propping himself up on his elbows, Prince Zuko glared up at his 11-year-old sister, clearly annoyed at having been disturbed, "leave me alone, 'Zula."
Azula shrugged, a teasing grin crossing her face, as she began to walk away, "you're such a baby, Zuzu."
"Don't call me that!" Zuko leapt to his feet, only to discover she had disappeared back into the palace. Sighing exasperatedly, he settled into a sitting position near the koi pond, hugging his knees to his chest. He hated Azula. He hated how she always got away with everything, how she was father's favorite.
Quietly at first, the firebender began to hear the familiar quacking of turtle ducks. Most everyone in the palace knew that a family of the little critters inhabited the pond. Retrieving a hunk of bread from a pouch at his side, Zuko habitually began feeding it to the ducks that had gathered. A single tear rolled down his cheek as he recalled how his mother had done the same thing. Brushing it away angrily, Zuko tried to regain his posture. But the tears kept coming, wetting the sleeves of his tunic as he fought his emotions. If only he knew where his mother was, if only his sister weren't such a jerk, if only…
Zuko stopped himself. Frowning he glared at the tears that soiled the soft fabric of his clothing. He was almost 14; the age at which he would be considered an adult. What was he thinking? A familiar rage built up inside him, dispelling any sadness that remained instantaneously. That was good. Anger was all right, as his father often displayed it. And everything his father did was all right.
Unexpectedly, two hands gripped his shoulders, and he jumped, uttering a startled gasp. Swiftly, the teenager turned his head to catch a glimpse of his attacker. The culprit was none other than his uncle.
Uncle Iroh stood behind him, hands still planted firmly on his shoulders, his usual broad smile on his craggy features. His coarse hair, though once a deep brown, was now graying, though his bright golden eyes still had a youthful look to them. "Someone's jumpy today," greeted the old man amiably, taking a seat beside his nephew.
The prince simply forced a small smile for his senior's benefit, before glancing back to the pond. The turtle ducks, having finished their meal, had retreated back to the more densely vegetated portion of the lake, leaving the shimmering surface still. Like a mirror…
"Is something troubling you?" Iroh questioned with deepest concern, though still managing to keep his voice light. That was what Zuko loved about Iroh. He was always was there for Zuko, always had been since…
"Nothing serious, uncle," replied the Prince cautiously, not wanting to spill the whole truth. But at a raised eyebrow from Iroh, he decided against it, knowing that his uncle would pry the truth from him sooner or later. "I miss mom."
"I know how you feel," began Iroh, his voice remaining steady although his expression darkened, "I felt the same way when my son died." There was a long silence, in which Zuko concentrated on the sight before him, as igf the lifeless water were the most intriguing object he had every seen. His uncle glanced up at the clouds, patiently waiting for his nephew to reply.
"It's not the same," Zuko answered, after a bit, sudden anger making it's way into his voice, though he knew not its cause. His uncle was trying to help him, to cheer him up. It was rude to act this way. But at that moment, Zuko found he couldn't care less, and he plunged into greater depth, his heart cascading out. "At least you know what happened to Lu Ten. Mom could still be alive somewhere, and I'll never know. It doesn't make a difference if she's rotting away somewhere or not, because I'll never be able to find her!"
"That may be, Zuko, but life goes on," Iroh stated wisely, placed a comforting hand on his nephew's shoulder, directing a sympathetic smile at him, "besides, Ursa left to protect you, didn't she."
A nod was all Iroh received in response. Another silence prevailed over the two for awhile, as they each sat with their own thoughts. The drone of cicadas could be heard, along with other sounds of late spring. Far off, the turtle ducks could be heard squawking, though they were still hidden from sight.
Finally Zuko broke the lull, casting a smile of gratitude towards his elder, "thank you."
Grinning, Iroh slowly rose to his feet stretching, "you're quite welcome, Prince Zuko. Now, would you care to join me for a game of Pai Sho and some tea?" A mischievous glint was born into Iroh's eyes as he made this statement, and Zuko nearly laughed. It was no secret that Zuko disliked the game, but his uncle always liked to make it sound like a treat.
But, in a reasonably good mood, now that his anxiety about his mother had momentarily passed, he decided to humor the old man. Returning the grin, he got to his feet, before glancing at his elder, "of course, Uncle."
"Marvelous. Let's go, shall we?"
"It's your move, nephew," muttered Iroh, glancing up at Zuko who was gazing out the large window, as he had been doing between turns for nearly two hours. A pensive expression was on his face, as he gazed out at the garden, staring at the flowers with feigned interest, though Iroh could he wasn't really seeing them. "Zuko?"
"Yes, Uncle?" the prince replied absent-mindedly, not taking his eyes from the window.
"It's your turn."
"Oh, right." Glancing at the Pai Sho board, the Prince picked up a random game piece, transferring it a space to the left. With that done he returned to his former position, the expression of aloofness never leaving his visage.
"Zuko…"
"Yes, Uncle?"
"This is the tenth time I've won," voiced the older firebender with a mixture of amusement and concern. Honestly, he knew his nephew was a rather poor player when it came to Pai Sho, but he had always put up at least a bit of a challenge. This was like playing with the wall, is the wall had the ability to move pieces.
"Huh?" the glazed look finally retreated from the prince's eyes, and he gave a start, before glancing at his uncle, as if just realizing he were there.
Something was off. Zuko was a fairly thoughtful child, as far as children went, but he had always been attentive, never as blatantly oblivious as this before. Iroh knew Zuko was behaving strangely, and he didn't hesitate in voicing his opinion. "Zuko, this isn't like you. I can't help but feel that something is amiss."
"It's fine," a weak smile twitched the corners of his lips slightly upward, and he visibly put more effort into his next move, though Iroh was not appeased. The smile had been a little too forced for his liking.
"Zuko, something's the matter and you know it. You can tell me."
After taking a small sip from his teacup, Zuko gazed up at his Uncle, a slight hint of anxiety clear in his eyes. Nonetheless, he hesitated only seconds before attempting to make his dilemma known. "I don't know, uncle. It's just…my birthday is in three weeks, and…" His voice trailed off and he looked down at his pale hands, folded in his lap, not sure how to continue.
"Nervous?" guessed, grinning knowingly, as he counteracted the prince's move, winning once more. Perhaps he should start offering the kid lessons. A bit of improvement wouldn't hurt.
"No, I…after my birthday…I-I'll miss being a kid."
"Zuko," Iroh placed a hand on his nephew's shoulder, casting him an understanding smile, his eyes emanating comprehension, "I know what you're going through. True, you will have more responsibilities, but you'll still have time to yourself…"
"Uncle, I've seen my schedule." Zuko stated calmly, an odd defiance in his voice, as if determined to prove Iroh wrong.
"What?"
"I've seen my schedule." Zuko repeated, his voice barely above a whisper, as he faced his uncle. Iroh could see the desperation in his nephew's eyes, the need to let out whatever had been troubling him growing in his voice as he continued. "Firebending, geography, history, etiquette, mathematics, literature—uncle, I won't have any time at all!"
"Now, Zuko…" Iroh attempted to soothe the boy, before he grew too upset.
"I don't want to grow up yet! I'm not ready! I just want to be a kid!"
"Zuko!" Iroh seized the boy's flailing arms, before he could set fire to anything. The prince had a nasty habit of leaving scorch marks on his surroundings when he got into a temper, as he had not yet mastered the concept of proper control over his element.
The prince blinked, glancing from his uncle to his wrists, rather perplexed. Then, seeming to realize he had been on the verge of flaming the palace, he blanched minutely, before apologizing, "oh, sorry."
Cautiously, the retired general relinquished his grasp on his nephew's limbs, assuring him in a calm voice, before he set fire to the wall hangings. Iroh hated to see his nephew upset, but sometimes, there was very little he could do on the matter. "I know you're going through a lot, but things will get better, I-"
"No they won't!" Zuko yelled, inexplicable anger seething through his veins, as he leapt to his feet, fists alight with flames. What did Iroh know? What did anyone know? People always tried to understand, but they couldn't. No one could ever understand…heatedly, the prince stormed from the room in high dungeon.
Emitting a distressed sigh, Iroh began putting away the game board and pieces. His nephew was one of the most bipolar people he had ever met; one moment, he was a sweet, well-behaved, happy child, the next he was flaring, literally, yelling and screaming…
Things had not always been that way. Before Ursa had left, the prior personality had been dominant, the second, if it had ever shown, for Iroh could not remember exactly, had been fleeting, never anything like this. But with Ursa's departure, a new side of Zuko had arisen, and as time passed, this side was growing more and more prominent, and Iroh was becoming worried. The prince had constant mood swings, his temperament akin to that of his element; harsh, unpredictable, and dangerous if you were in its way. The old tea-lover couldn't help but feel that he was losing Zuko, that with every passing day he became more out of his control, more like what the old bender had been determined to keep him from becoming. His father. Ozai was taking seed in the boy's mind, twisting him into something horrible and deformed. If left unattended, the consequences could be irreversible.
With a small, sad smile, Iroh placed the board away on its shelf, musing aloud to himself, "What fun we'll have when he finds out about the arranged marriage…"
"What?"
Iroh froze and glanced up at the door to see none other than his nephew, a mixture of anger and disbelief on his face. Oh no, was his only thought as he waited for the explosion. As a desperate last attempt, he made as if to gloss the matter over, "oh, Prince Zuko, I-"
"Uncle, when exactly is this arranged marriage?" Zuko inquired, approaching his uncle. He used a skeptical, yet hesitant, voice, as if having guessed more on the matter, yet not knowing if his assumptions were true, or rather hoping they weren't.
"After your birthday…" Iroh answered flatly, realizing he was fighting a lost cause.
"I don't think I heard you correctly," began Zuko, his voice had a hint of laughter in it. If Iroh hadn't known better, he would have thought Zuko didn't believe him, but he knew better. Zuko was simply trying to convince himself otherwise; Iroh never lied to him. Never. "My birthday is in three weeks…I can't…in three weeks!"
"Well, more like three months actually," contradicted the elder, hoping to ease the impact of this news. Zuko was taking this just as he had expected. Within minutes there would be the flames and screaming.
Zuko stared dubiously at the old firebender, his face the picture of indignation. His whole form portrayed complete instability, on the verge of either fuming at the latest injustice, or laughing at this amusing joke. When he spoke, his tone was half dumb-founded, half-frantic. "Uncle, I'm 13, for Agni's sake…this is absurd!"
"Well, 14 is the marrying age in the Firenation…" defended Iroh lamely. This was not going to end well, though it wasn't as if he had expected it to. Zuko was touchy on the best of matters these days…
At that remark, the prince exploded, quite literally, as his fists flared. This simply wasn't fair. His life wasn't fair, not in the least. And now to add this to the mix…he seethed with pent up wrath. "Uncle, I'm NOT getting married!"
Standing up, Iroh tried to placate the teen, the gears in his brain rushing to come up with a plausible solution. "I'll talk to your father, Zuko, but I don't know if I'll be able to change his mind-"
"I DON'T CARE!" bellowed the enraged Prince, flames flying from his clenched palms, as he became caught up in his fury. "Just DO something. ANYTHING!"
"ZUKO, CALM DOWN!" Iroh returned, raising his voice to compete with his nephew's. If the boy wouldn't listen to sense, he would listen to this. "CONTROL YOURSELF! I know you're going through a hard time right now, BUT THERE'S NO NEED TO ACT IN SUCH A MANNER!
Surprisingly, the Prince took his uncle's advice. Slowly, he began to inhale and exhale, counting silently under his breath. The flames began to die, and gradually, the anger passed, leaving him feeling empty and drained. Heaving a deep sigh, Zuko continued in a more level voice, trying successfully to keep his emotions in check. "Uncle, this just doesn't seem fair. I mean…why should others be able to control my life like this? Be able to say what I do and what I don't…I'm tired of it."
"I know, Zuko," replied Iroh, easing his nephew into a sitting position, his composure regained. It seemed the rage had blown over for the time being. "I know, but it's you're duty as Prince of the Fire Nation. You must obey…"
"I know, Uncle, I know." Zuko whispered, his eyes closing as he spoke. He knew he needed to listen to his nation, to his father, but… "I just wish I had a choice…"
Dinner was much the same as usual. Firelord Ozai sat at one end of the table, prattling on ceaselessly about political matters of some sort to some highly ranked officials, while Iroh was seated at the other end, Zuko and Azula on either side of him. Despite the delicious fare laid out before them, Zuko had not eaten a morsel.
Cocking an eyebrow, Iroh faced his nephew, a slight smirk on his face, "you know, Zuko, starving yourself won't do any good." Really, his nephew could be rather ridiculous sometimes.
"I know, uncle," Zuko replied glumly, seizing a piece of particularly tantalizing chicken between his enamel chopsticks and stuffing it half-heartedly in his mouth. Despite its pleasing appearance, the meat tasted like ash to Zuko, sticking to his dry mouth and catching on the lump in his throat. After several minutes of discomfort, Zuko managed to swallow the, now offensive, item, tears beading at the corners of his eyes as he choked down the piece. He wasn't crying, it was simply a natural reaction, like how one's eyes would tear if one's hair were pulled.
He caught Iroh's eye and smiled, though on the inside he felt like doing anything but. His throat stung and felt choked from withheld emotion, though he couldn't do anything to release it. Not now anyway, in front of his father.
Iroh returned the smile, even if he had a hint of sadness in it. At least Zuko was eating now; the prince had managed to force down some mashed potatoes, as they were less solid and easier to swallow. But Zuko had lapsed into his quiet, on the verge of tears stage, which was most definitely Iroh's least favorite. At least when Zuko was screaming and yelling, he didn't look so horribly depressed. It broke Iroh's heart, and he hated it.
Because of this, and many of his own reasons, Iroh had made up his mind to confront Ozai on the matter of the arranged marriage after dinner. As Zuko's uncle, he felt it his job to stand up for the other boy and protect him as Ozai only cared about Azula.
At the moment, the girl was sitting on her uncle's right, eating elegantly, in the most lady-like manner imaginable. The Fire Lord glanced over at her lovingly from time to time, bragging about her to all his advisors at every chance he got, occasional putting down Zuko simultaneously time when possible ("Did you know that my darling Azula here as already accomplished the first set?" "She's only been in training for a few months and she's already better than her brother." "A true prodigy, just like her grandfather." "Complete opposite of Zuko; the wretch took years to learn the first sets, and failed miserably all the way. I'm embarrassed to call him my son.").
Azula sat politely the whole time, smiling sweetly at her father's praise, joined with great enthusiasm by the other important officials. When no one was looking, she would smirk at Zuko, her eyes flashing maliciously, as if ignited with fires from hell.
Normally, Zuko would mouth back unkind things, though today his spirits were too low for that sort of thing. It didn't help that he was catching bits of his father's conversation, though it wasn't anything knew. It went on this way for hours sometimes at dinner, and Zuko had grown slightly numb to the insults, though it didn't hurt any less for the familiarity.
Iroh, noticing this, tried to make Zuko laugh with a few jokes, but the prince wasn't in the mood. It enraged the elder that his brother said such things, right in front of the boy, no less. Even if Zuko tried his best to hide it, the words were killing him inside, slowly but surely, a deadly poison destined to kill its victim gradually. And Iroh was dying right alongside his 'second son'. The pain he had experienced from the loss of Lu Ten had been devastating, but Zuko had helped him get through that, with his smiles, and laughs.
Eventually dinner was over, and Iroh swiftly stood and gathered Zuko. Azula gave a last sneer at her brother than bid her father goodnight and went in the direction of her own room.
"Iroh," Zuko piped up suddenly, trying hard to keep his voice as cheerful as he could manage. He didn't need Iroh worrying anymore…he had upset him enough for one day.
"Yes, nephew?" he replied, glancing inquisitively at the younger bender. Zuko was looking up at him with his large liquid gold eyes. Iroh instantly felt relieved, as from what he could tell, Zuko was in a much better mood. Though something seemed slightly off…it was strange.
"I just wanted to say thank you," they had reached his door by now, and Zuko spoke with his hand on the knob, his back to Iroh. "Thank you for all you've done for me. For everything." Zuko's heart was in his throat; he could feel the tears rising and he was glad he had cut himself off when he had. Besides, it would have seemed sappy…
"You're welcome, Zuko," Iroh replied, wrapping his arms around his nephew. "Goodnight...and don't worry. I'll take care of everything. I'll take care of you. Forever, I promise."
"Thank you, uncle," the prince whispered, before slipping out of his elder's embrace and into his room, "goodnight."
"Goodnight," repeated Iroh once again, though the door was closed and he doubted Zuko heard him. Stretching and stifling a yawn, he made his way back to the dining hall. Ozai would most likely still be there, drinking wine with his posse. And Iroh, summoning his courage, was about to pick a few bones with his dear little brother.