a/n: i know i'm behind in updating all my stories, and that this is probably not well-received, but, here it is, a little zutara for us to enjoy. this is also my first time in this fandom. so hello to you people! this is au, btw, taking place in an alternate reality where the fire lord is iroh. most everything else is the same. and there's no war.
dedication: to scary feelings in the pit of your stomach that say that something bad is coming.
disclaimer: i don't own a:tla.
summary: All that glitters is not gold. – Zuko/Katara.
aqua regia
royal water
fastidious
Zuko was only seven years old when he decided that he hated water – or waterbenders more specifically.
He fidgeted in the hard-backed chair, staring at the mutilated face of his cousin. The skin had nearly been peeled off and the raw, red texture of the muscles and blood vessels underneath lent a gruesome look to Prince Lu Ten.
He looked sideways at his sister, who was staring at Lu Ten's face as if it would disappear completely if she looked away for a second. Azula may have been only five, but she was fast turning into a firebending prodigy – already having surpassed Zuko's skill – and Lu Ten was the brother she always looked up to.
Zuko suppressed the jealously rising up.
"Did they catch who did it?" Azula's voice was soft, quiet, but – even at the age of five – already contained some of her father's deadly venom.
"Yes," Zuko replied shortly, "An old Fire Nation prisoner. Hama. She was taken years ago in a raid on the Southern Water Tribe." He shot a quick glance at his little sister. To anyone who didn't know her, Azula looked the picture of a princess, calm and poised. But Zuko could see her throat bobbing up and down and her eyes burning from the effort it took to not let the tears fall. Her hands were clenched too tightly and her nails were digging into her palms.
Zuko looked around the room awkwardly. He didn't know the words to say, the actions to do.
"Who has the honor of executing her?" Azula's voice shook imperceptibly, "Who has the duty of burning the woman who dared to attack a Prince, to kill the wife of the Crown Prince?"
"Azula –" Zuko was torn over what to do. His father would kill him for showing weakness, but Commander Ozai was in the training grounds, wrecking havoc on his partners. His mother had taken to her rooms, grieving for her sister-in-law. And General Iroh had done nothing but stare into the fire blankly, mourning the loss of his wife.
Fire Lord Azulon rarely left his quarters, but Zuko took a glance around the room, making sure no one was watching, before he nervously put a hand around his sister's shoulders.
To his surprise, she hugged him fiercely, burying her head in his shirt and making small noises, dampening Zuko's tunic with the tears she wouldn't allow anyone else to see, the grief she wouldn't allow anyone to witness, the weakness she wouldn't let anyone notice.
"Who dared attack my cousin, Zuko?" she sobbed, Zuko's arms tight around her, "Who dared to kill my aunt?"
Zuko didn't reply, but comforted her, reassuring her with his presence as they sat in the shadow of their cousin, their brave, valiant brother, the dutiful prince and soldier, the man who had gotten his face bloodbended off of him by a fanatical waterbender.
Two days later, Zuko showed, in full regalia, to witness the execution of Hama. Azula sat by his side, the topknot making her face look severe, mature, all traces of sadness gone from it.
He watched, in utter silence, as Admiral Zhao set fire to her pyre. Watched the Admiral's twisted look of cruelty as she burned, died for her sins.
Watched as she didn't scream, didn't cry, didn't say a word.
Watched her as she watched him, a malicious smile on her face.
Watched her mouth her last words, directly at him.
'Your time will come, my prince.'
obsolete
It was the timely arrival of two waterbending Masters from the North Pole that had saved his cousin's face, but he never forgave the cold element of flow.
It deceived and lied, showing a face of healing and life, only to turn it into blood-stained death and suffocating loss.
But he had more to worry about than a grudge on a people and a culture halfway around the world.
Lu Ten was the same, joking, carefree cousin they had, but Fire Lord Azulon had seen his capability and sent for Lu Ten often, at his war councils. Azula grew more and more belligerent as her cousin was taken away from her, as her mother viewed her with suspicion, as even her friends looked at her with fear.
However, the real tension was between his father and his uncle. Fire Lord Azulon was growing old, and his sons both had heirs. When Zuko was nine, his grandfather made a decision that would change the course of his life.
He appointed Iroh as heir apparent and Regent of the Fire Nation.
His father was in a horrible mood for an entire week, finally calling for an audience with the Fire Lord. There, Zuko and Azula showed off their firebending – Ursa growing tenser by the minute as Ozai showed off his children, hoping his father would get his not-so-subtle declaration.
Azulon ordered everyone except his son out of the room, intending to hear him out alone.
That night, Azula came to him, her eyes wide, threatening to spill the ever-so-rare tears. She told him that she snuck back to eavesdrop – typical Azula – and heard their father requesting that he be put higher in the order of succession.
Azulon had gotten furious with the idea that a mere second son questioning his decision. He ordered his father to prove his loyalty to his country, to prove that he would be a better choice to rule the nation.
He ordered Ozai to kill his firstborn son.
Zuko dismissed Azula's words as lies – Azula always lied – and muttered vague good-byes when his mother came to tuck him in bed.
It was only next morning, when he saw Azula's red-rimmed eyes and his mother's empty place, when he saw Azulon's body being lowered on the ceremonial pyre, as he saw the crown placed in the topknot of his uncle, his father's pale face, that he realized everything in his life had gone horribly wrong.
Up was down, in was out, left was right.
Zuko resolved to make himself useful – useful people weren't ordered to be killed by their grandfathers.
'Your time will come.'
debase
Four years later, Zuko had grown up, and quickly. He quickly became an earnest pupil of Lu Ten, whose military feats were the stuff of legends and – instead of ignoring his sister – swallowed his pride and asked her for help on the firebending katas he had trouble with.
He sat with his uncle a lot, debating about the treaties he had signed, the siege he had given up on, the pacifist that life had made of him. Fire Lord Iroh, in turn, asked him questions he had never thought of, twisting his thinking, speaking in such cryptic riddles that it nearly gave him a headache.
Under his uncle's guidance, he began attending war councils often, something Azula was denied entry to, no matter how prestigious a firebender she was.
It was at a particular meeting to discuss the potentially hostile situation of the Water Tribes, that Zuko first learnt the meaning of pain.
His father, Commander Ozai, was away on a routine mission, his uncle was in a meeting at Ba Sing Se and Azula had gotten irritated that he was invited to the council, without her.
Lu Ten presided over the meeting, as Crown Prince, but when there was a sudden emergency in an outskirts village of the Fire Nation, he got called away to help. Instantly, all the deference that the generals had shown Zuko disappeared. In the absence of all the peace-lovers of his family, Admiral Zhao pressed for drastic tactics against the Northern Water Tribe. He called for destroying the twin gods Tui and La, and thus demolishing the very root of the power of the waterbenders.
A little part of Zuko still hated the waterbenders for what they did to his cousin, but it was a childhood hate, nearly gone, and it was with disgust and horror that he viewed the Admiral's plan. He challenged Zhao in the middle of the council, and accepted the cunning Admiral's offer of an Agni Kai.
He trained with Azula for a day and a half, determined to be proud and victorious when his cousin came back, determined to show his uncle his achievements, determined to make his father acknowledge him.
It was a very close battle. Fire flew, heat searing all those who dared stand too close, the flames twisting and dancing as they chanted in the ancient way of the gods, the infernos blazing as they judged the opponents.
Finally, Zuko stood, panting, his fist drawn back, aimed at the Admiral's face. Zhao was on the ground, winded, unable to react in time. But Zuko held back, stopping himself from killing the arrogant officer. Though Zhao's plan was treason against the gods themselves, it was not his place to convict him. Zuko turned his back and walked away.
That was the worst thing he could've done.
Seething at the embarrassment and the humiliation of being beaten by a thirteen-year-old, Zhao stood up and advanced, punching fire straight at the prince's back, breaking one of the most sacred rules of the Agni Kai.
Zuko managed to turn around in time to deflect most of the blast but a part of the flame split off and scorched the left side of his face, sending blinding pain coursing through his body, his mind welcoming the cool touch of oblivion as he collapsed.
pledge
When he woke up, it was the cool blue eyes of a waterbender that greeted him.
He lay still, perfectly still, not feeling the pain coursing through the left half of his face, the stiffness in his muscles that told him that he had been asleep for a very long time, the cool touch of water to his skin, the numbing sensation that spread through his eye.
She spoke in a professional tone, telling him that they would be able to save his eye, but the scarring was too deep to salvage the skin. She told him that it would leave a permanent mark on his face.
Zuko thought it was ironic that a waterbender nearly killed his cousin, but it was Zuko's face that was marred.
Finally, when she finished with the check-up and turned to leave, she pressed something into his hand. It was a blue pendant, engraved with the symbol of water, hanging on a slim thread.
"I heard what it is that you did, my prince," her voice an echo of what Hama had told him, "I, and the rest of my people are indebted to you for this service." She smiled at him, "You have saved our gods, and won their favor. This token is a representation of it. Show it to any water tribesman, and he is honor-bound to follow you."
facade
It was Azula who first noticed the change.
Zuko had been out of the infirmary for a week now, and had expressly not followed instructions to take things slowly. He had shaved off most of his hair until he was left with a severe topknot that many called a 'dragon's tail', a hairstyle that served to only emphasize the damage the Agni Kai had wrecked on his face.
Azula would've never been one to think her brother handsome – Mai's sly looks be damned – but she winced the first time she saw his face without the bandages, the angry red scar taking up nearly half his face.
She was proud of her brother for standing up to what he believed in – personally, she also thought that death was a mercy to the upstart waterbenders – and she was furious with Admiral Zhao.
She, along with her father – who was chiefly interested in the fact that Zhao broke the rules of a sacred Agni Kai – and her cousin were ready to burn the treacherous man a thousand times, for daring to hurt their family, for daring to go against the gods, for daring to strike a man after he had won, after his back is turned.
They would've if not for Iroh leaving the justice in Zuko's hands. In a blank voice, Zuko informed them that he wasn't going to kill Zhao. Azula was about to fly at him with fire blazing if he hadn't continued.
"He does not deserve death," his voice was an emotionless whisper, "He does not deserve such a kindness."
In the end, Iroh banished him, Azula quietly swearing vengeance on him, Ozai fuming in a corner, Lu Ten unable to get rid of a nagging guilt.
But this new, cold Zuko wasn't her brother. Her brother was fire at its fiercest, blazing with pride and righteousness. She was cold-blooded fire, not him. It couldn't be him.
Seeing him practice in an empty training arena, twirling dao swords – Agni knew why he needed them – interspersing them with burst of fire, Azula finally had enough.
Sending a burst of blue flames in his direction, she caught his attention.
"Azula," his voice betrayed no hint of surprise, "What is it that you want?" He held the swords in a relaxed stance, waiting for her answer.
Her eyes narrowed and she glared at him, venom in her eyes, poison present in every clenched fist and taught muscle.
Suddenly, she loosened, a small smile creeping on her face. Zuko froze. His sister was never more dangerous than when she was calm. And she was never more calm than when she was truly, terrifyingly furious.
She shot a burst of flames straight towards him and Zuko batted it to the side, surprise widening his eyes at this impromptu spar. She stalked towards him as he readied his stance, "What do I want, Zuzu?"
"Oh, that's obvious," her smile was sickly sweet as she punched out fire, "I want you to be angry."
"What are you talking about, Azula?" Zuko said, dodging yet another blast. She was pleased to hear a note of panic in his voice.
"Don't interrupt me!" she spat viciously, breathing fire straight to his face, watching as he redirected it with his blades.
They danced around each other for a long time. Azula looked like an untamed dragon with her sporadic bursts of fire. Her hair had fallen out of her topknot and sprawled around her shoulders as she whirled and struck, dodging Zuko's blades and replying in kind with daggers of fire and swords of smoke. Zuko circled her, like a wary bird of prey, his swords extensions of his arms that cut, chopped and slashed, the air flying in the battle as the two siblings exchanged threats, as Azula provoked Zuko, reaching for the rage that always shimmered, just below the surface, as Zuko tried hard to calm himself, to remember the lessons his uncle taught him, to get rid of the image of Zhao's face seared in his memory, hateful and twisted.
Azula came at him, her fingers moving in opposite circles, sparks flying from her fingertips as she summoned the cold-blooded fire, the ice to the flame. When she brought her fingers together, seconds before firing, the lightning waiting to be released – just at that moment, Azula's face changed. He saw Zhao aiming fire straight at his face, intending to kill him, trying to avenge his defeat.
But Azula shot the lightning over his head, into the stands, and her face changed.
"I want," her voice was soft as she collapsed on him, her energy spent, her eyes slowly closing, allowing herself this weakness in the shadow of the brother that always loved her, that tried to protect her even if he couldn't, the family that wouldn't abandon her no matter what she did.
"I want my brother back."
Iroh watched from the darkness near the opposite end of the room, smiling as he saw Zuko pick her sister up, intending to drop her off at her rooms, watched as Zuko's mask cracked and broke, shattering into a million pieces, revealing a boy who had been dealt all the wrong cards, a boy who overcame his own fate to become the person he was today, a boy that triumphed with his own morals, not crumbling in the face of opposition.
devious
The next day, Zuko entered the War Council – five minutes late – bowed to his uncle and took a place seated to his left, a seat of the second highest honor, underneath Lu Ten's place as Crown Prince.
At that moment, Iroh realized why Zuko had made to the choice of a dragon's tail. The fire danced and twirled in the brazier, throwing shadows on his blank face, emphasizing the scar, warning the others what happened to those who dared argue against him. The deep red color made him look angry, furious, ready to destroy all his enemies.
Zhao had spoken against Prince Zuko. Zhao had been exiled, banished to some backwater Earth Kingdom island. Zuko sat on the Fire Lord's left.
Ozai almost smiled once he realized what his son was doing.
Iroh couldn't be prouder of his nephew.
But things were far from finished. One of the Captains had brought word that the Avatar had been spotted, after years of futile searching. Unfortunately, someone had found him first, and there was now an entire army of warriors ready to defend the keeper of balance.
The Southern Water Tribe.
silence
The Fire Lord knew he had to keep peace with the other countries. The treaty they had with the Earth Kingdom was fragile; all it would take was an fatalist like Zhao to sever the ties. The Northern Water Tribe waited and watched, testing the waters, sending occasional healers when the time demanded, raiding Fire Nation ships when necessity spoke. Sozin had exterminated the Air Nomads.
But the Southern Water Tribe made no secret of their intense dislike for anything and everything Fire Nation. After multiple attacks on the isolated tribe by Azulon's special band of pirates – the Sea Ravens – they would not stoop to accept any offer of peace Iroh sent.
He hoped the presence of the Avatar would change that.
Iroh wished he could go, to see the great bridge between the Spirit World and their world, but he knew that a man of his position had to think of his country first. Given the tribe's hostility, he had to send the perfect envoy.
Someone high in ranking, so that Chief Hakoda wouldn't be insulted. Someone replaceable, in case their warriors killed before asking questions. Someone who shared Iroh's love for peace.
He sighed as he mentally scratched people off his list; Lu Ten was the Crown Prince, Ozai would end up starting a war, most of the other generals would do the same, Azula was far too much like her father and none of the nobles were important enough. That left only one person.
Iroh groaned at the repercussions his actions were sure to cause before going to inform Zuko that he better start packing.
Zuko had honestly not imagined that he would be sent as a peace envoy. He thought of someone older, someone wiser, like his cousin perhaps. Sending a prince whose scarred face prompted children to tears and generals to fear was just as bad as sending someone like Azula.
In fact, he expected his ship to be sunk halfway to the Southern Water Tribe, merely on account of the red and black flag fluttering high above the iron ship.
Zuko practiced his firebending on board, determined not to fall behind his sister and cousin just because of this task. He bended all day long, rising with the sun and sleeping long after it left. As the temperatures grew colder and colder, the sailors were grateful to the searing heat that he bended across the decks.
He pretended not to hear the rumors that circulated around the mess hall from one sailor's ear to another. Most of them hadn't docked in years, and since Iroh didn't want to send any soldiers – peace didn't require a bodyguard – none of them knew what happened to their Prince.
One sailor foolishly proclaimed that Zuko's own father gave him the scar after he spoke out of turn at a war council. While Zuko scorned the ignorant assumption – his own father – he had a small doubt, deep down that – when it came to it – Ozai would not hesitate to kill his son.
Another said that Azula had given it to him. Zuko had no response for that except hysterical laughter.
It was when they were a day from the Southern Water Tribe, the cautious eyes already peering out from behind glaciers, the hardened warriors that watched them as they passed by, boats of gunpowder and matches ready to blow them sky-high if they so much as breathed wrong; Zuko had his first disagreement with the captain.
The authoritative man – who seemed to be in a suspicious hurry to leave before they had even arrived – pushed all the speed he could get out of the engine room, sending it dangerously close to its full capacity. Zuko had felt the ominous rumble of the iron machines and his fire warned him that the ship was close to exploding from the strain.
He had mentioned this to the captain, who gave him a patronizing smile and agreed to look over things – after all, what did a prince know about sailing? – all the while making the ship go faster. Zuko barricaded himself in his room before he could lose his temper and escalate the argument.
They docked into the port in under twelve hours; Zuko the first one to get off, glad to be on some semblance of land. Chief Hakoda and half his warriors stood on the shoreline, forming an intimidating wall nearly a hundred meters long. Zuko could see no sign of the Avatar, but – as they didn't try to kill him on first sight – he assumed his influence was present in the gathering.
"To what do I owe this pleasure, Prince Zuko?" Hakoda asked, his voice deep, his eyes roving over the burn marring Zuko's face and lending it a tinge of rage.
Zuko bowed slightly, remembering the lessons his uncle gave him, to give respect to those who have earned it; before meeting the chief's eyes, "I've heard you have the Avatar."
"You can't take him away!" a furious shriek met his ears. Zuko turned, surprised as a girl of about Azula's age broke the line of warriors, staring at him defiantly.
A boy, two years older, who had enough similarities to be her brother; followed her, in a ready stance, holding a weird metal weapon, "We won't allow you to kill him!"
Zuko could see that this was going to be difficult. He had said only one sentence and they were already accusing him of murder.
"I have no intention of killing the Avatar," Zuko replied, perplexed, wondering how they had reached that conclusion. The girl looked at him suspiciously and the boy lowered his weapon but Hakoda's face was as impassive as ever.
"Then why have you come –"
They say that there's always one moment that destroys everything that you've been working for, one instant in which everything changes, a catalyst for destruction and death, the last straw that broke the camel's back; the flash when the shit irrevocably hits the fan.
For Zuko, it was when the ship, docked in the harbor, behind them, finally exploded.
His body was flung up and thrown like a rag doll, his body meeting the ground with a force that nearly shattered every bone in his body if it weren't for the snow bank that cushioned his fall. He could hear yelling and screaming above him, he could feel the tongues of flame as they licked over the harbor, causing havoc among both Fire Nation sailors and Water Tribe warriors. He could hear an unfamiliar voice trying to restore order, he could hear the voice deepen and echo, with other, more powerful voices, he could feel the tremendous energy that was radiated as the snow was whipped up into a blizzard, as the power lost control.
But then a heavy chunk of ice hit Zuko on the back of his head and darkness enveloped him.
pride
When Zuko awoke, it was to a splitting migraine, a pocket of air too low to stand up in, and the imminent choice of life or death.
The second his eyes fluttered open, he heard the whooshing of air and instinctively threw himself to the side, rolling into a battle-ready stance, fire ready to be called forth. He dodged again as the boy swung his weapon again, surprised at the sudden turn of events.
"What are you doing?" Zuko hissed as he ducked again, the small space cramping his muscles, his head feeling like it was about to split open.
"What does it look like, firebender?" the boy replied in kind, his eyes narrowed to slits as he swung the weapon – which was slowly starting to look like a boomerang – spastically, following no pattern Zuko could take advantage of, "I'm trying to rid the world of scum like – what's this?"
Sokka stopped his attack and bent to pick up the blue pendant that had fallen out of the prince's pocket. Zuko used this opportunity to survey his surroundings. They were trapped on all sides by packed snow and ice, and while they had enough oxygen to last them a couple of days at the earliest, using fire would burn up their air supply faster than you could say 'suffocation'.
"Not only do you attack the Avatar, you dare masquerade as a honoured tribesman?" the boy yelled, shaking the pendant in the air.
"What are you talking about?" Zuko moderated his voice, if only for the reason that he liked breathing, thank you very much. Unable to use fire and far away from his swords, he was at a serious disadvantage and he watched the boy's movements for any hint of his attacks.
"This necklace is only given to those warriors who have exceptional courage and have been honored by Tui and La!" the boy dangled the necklace in front of him, turning beet red in anger. Zuko could feel his headache getting a headache at the situation he was confronted with.
Zuko snatched the necklace back before the boy could blink, retorting snappishly, "How do you expect me to know that? It was a gift from a Northern Water Tribe healer who had come to the palace!"
The boy studied him for a few more seconds, the serious expression combined with the finger stroking a nonexistent moustache that overall gave him a comical look. "I'm Sokka, son of the chief," he said finally, retreating to the wall behind him, not taking his eyes off of Zuko.
"Huh?" was Zuko's intelligent reply to the unexpected piece of information. One minute he tries to kill him, the next he's introducing himself. The cold had obviously addled his brains.
"That," Sokka nodded to the pendant, "Means that I should trust you. I still don't but," he grinned, "Killing you now leaves me with no entertainment." He still judged Zuko with wary eyes but made no more attempt to attack.
Zuko blinked twice before deciding to ignore Sokka's obvious insanity, sitting cautiously on the floor in a cross-legged position and looking around for a way out.
"Don't waste your time, I did that ages ago," Sokka said, "There's no weakness at any point in the walls. However, if you'd been a waterbender instead of a firebender, we'd be out of here in no time."
"Then how are we going to get out?" Zuko leaned against the ice, willing his headache to go away.
"I don't know about you," the dark-skinned man sneered, "But Katara will come looking for me. Aang as well."
"Katara is the other girl," Zuko stated, filing away the information for later – he was even beginning to think like Azula – and continuing, "Your sister. And Aang?"
"The Avatar," Sokka shot back, "The guy you tried to blow up!"
Ah. Zuko knew this was going to come up sooner or later.
"I didn't try to blow him up," he informed him wearily, "The captain of the ship had been working the engine too hard. I guess it finally gave out." The irritated tone with which it had been spoken left no doubt as to the truth of his statement.
Sokka looked at him suspiciously, "So – you're telling me that your ship blew up because of an accident?"
"Yes."
"Aang nearly murdered us with his spirit transformation thingy because of an engine error?"
"…Yes…"
"My dad declared war on the Fire Nation because of overheated machines?"
"Ye – WHAT?"
Sokka fell backwards, laughing at the horrified expression on Zuko's face, "I was just kidding!" He shot Zuko a contemplative look, "I didn't think you cared that much."
"My uncle sent me here to offer peace," Zuko glared at the water tribesman, "I can't fail him again."
"Again?" Sokka leaned forward curiously but Zuko turned his head, not willing to elaborate. Huffing, Sokka decided to make some things very clear, "Just so you know, I still hate you. I still don't trust you. The very fact that you're Fire Nation is a sin itself." Zuko opened his mouth to protest, but Sokka cut across him, "You're a prince, which makes things ten times worse. And no matter what you say, the truth is that you have a yinyang pendant, something no waterbender would give to a fire prince, and putting aside your claims, you just blew up half our harbor and attacked the Avatar, bringer of peace."
"Just so we're clear," Zuko replied, "I didn't do anything, except being born into the wrong family."
Sokka braced a hand against the wall, whose strange luminance was fading, leaving him to believe night was falling, and narrowed his eyes but didn't speak, choosing to leave the silence unbroken.
Until a few hours in complete darkness, when his teeth started chattering and his body was locked in uncontrollable shivering. He had worn only the light coat for daytime, never imagining that he'd been stuck underground, in a cave of ice, at night. It was all well and good for the firebender, but Sokka was freezing his ass off in the frigid temperatures.
He heard a sigh from the other end of the room, echoing in the complete darkness, and the strange rustling of cloth. "Here," Zuko's disembodied voice echoed in the blackness, "Your chattering is irritating." He was presumably offering the huge coat he had come swaddled in.
Sokka glared in the general direction of Zuko's voice, "I don't want your pity, prince!"
Moments later, a thick woolen coat hit Sokka in the face, Zuko's annoyed mutter clear, "Like I care whether you freeze to death."
When Sokka woke the next morning, nice and snug in his coat, it was to see Zuko too exhausted to even move and dangerously close to self-combustion.
serenity
It took fifteen straight minutes of Sokka's increasingly hoarse yelling and nearly all the oxygen in the room before someone heard him.
Katara – with the waterbending she knew – managed to carve a hole in the ice, thereby allowing them to get out. Sokka climbed out, rejoicing in fresh air, dragging a half-dead Zuko before him.
He managed to explain his story between gulps of clean air, as the village elders went to heal the prince, Zuko's claims matching most of what the captain had told them.
It took almost two whole days for the healers to bring Zuko back from the brink of death. Sokka didn't understand most of the medical nonsense they spouted, but from what Katara explained to him, it seemed like he had overused his chi in warming himself up, and his internal fire had nearly gone out.
Sokka felt more guilty than ever.
Aang couldn't sit still and flew all over the place, irritating Sokka to no end. Within the first day of Zuko's healing, they had found the papers he had brought, the treaty with the Fire Nation.
Hakoda had looked at it and passed it to Sokka, smiling and telling him that he knew the most about the fire prince, telling him that he could decide.
Sokka looked from Aang's anxious face to Katara's worried one to Zuko's, eyes closed, but eyebrows slightly furrowed, as if stress weighed heavily on him. He thought of the somewhat-conversation he shared, and the coat he had given him, at the cost of his own life.
His answer was clear.
When Zuko woke up, it was to a room crowded with healers, a young boy with airbending tattoos – the Avatar was only twelve years old? – the fierce girl who looked like she would like to waterbend him back into the cave he came out of, and Sokka, who flashed him a smile and a thumbs up.
Zuko smiled, his mission was successful. Peace had been brokered between all four – three – nations, and all because of the tentative friendship he had formed with the son of a chief, in a cave below ground.
providence
Zuko returned to the Fire Nation, triumphant. The Avatar hadn't consented to come with him, for after he mastered waterbending with Katara, he had to travel the Earth Kingdom to learn the third element. Aang had given his word, however, that when the time came for him to learn firebending, he would accept Zuko's invitation.
Months passed by and Zuko pushed himself into training. He learned new techniques from Lu Ten and began to join him in military exercises. He began to teach Azula the spiritual side of bending, the positive side from which to draw their energy. He showed her morals – something Ozai had thought was a complete waste of time – and slowly began turning his sister into something resembling a human being.
She was still scary, though he would never admit that to her face.
His uncle was proud of him for successfully brining peace to the land, and started confiding in Zuko more, including him as a part of bigger discussions and strategies. Zuko didn't have time for play anymore, when every word he said could impact hundreds of lives.
Therefore, it was with joy that he accepted his uncle's invitation on a trip to Avatar Roku's temple, never even contemplating the thought that the actual Avatar would show up, with his whole entourage in tow.
If he had thought Katara hated him before, it was nothing compared to now, after he nearly firebended her into a volcano.
fetter
It had began innocently enough, they had ran into the Avatar while meeting with the Fire Sages, and introductions had been made all around. Ozai, Azula and Lu Ten hadn't accompanied them, so Zuko was left with an over-excited Iroh, who behaved like a kid in a candy shop.
Zuko had introduced Aang, who bowed formally to Iroh before starting to discuss some of the harsher effects of the war, and the blatant signs of firebending dominancy still visible in parts of the Earth Kingdom; Sokka, who winked at Zuko, motioning that he had something to say; Katara, who just shot him a dirty look before stalking off; and Momo, the Avatar's apparent pet lemur. Who chattered and took off, the traitor.
In no desire to hear out Sokka – apparently the boy had fallen in love on some island or the other, with a girl that beat the crap out of him – and the tales of his escapades, Zuko had craftily suggested to his uncle that the Avatar would benefit from a tour.
He had been left to his own devices and moved through the temple silently, calling the spirits that dwelled there to give him power.
It hadn't been his fault that he was wary of intruders.
Or that he was standing on a balcony overlooking the volcano that simmered on the island.
Or that Katara had surprised him as her idea of a joke.
It was her fault.
Needless to say, he had whirled around and bended at her, causing her to instinctively panic and trip over the railing, and fall to her doom – if Zuko hadn't realized what he had done and caught her wrist as she fell.
She retaliated by dumping the temple's entire quantity of holy water on his head.
When Zuko and Katara joined the group, it was to his soaked clothes, her singed ones, and general laughter – though they quieted when Katara turned her glare on them.
It was when he and Uncle were leaving that he finally thought of a way to make it up to her.
When he had bended at her, he had caused the blue necklace around her throat to come off, and she had forgotten it in her hurry to leave. Tying it around his wrist, Zuko resolved to not attack her the next time they met.
fortune
Unfortunately, luck never seemed to favor Zuko. Fate seemed to follow his father's words: 'Azula was born lucky. You were lucky to be born.' and didn't give Zuko any respite when it came to the pretty, blue-eyed waterbender.
Katara had grown up in the months that passed from their last meeting, and it was a determined young woman that faced him now, waterbending as natural to her as breathing, an ice dagger inches away from his throat.
"Give me my necklace back, your highness," she spat, having had plenty of time to muse over the fact that she had last seen Zuko with a familiar blue pendant on his wrist. This time, all Zuko had wanted was a moment's peace as he took a break from the loud, noisy convoy that slowly made its way to Ba Sing Se.
And, yet again; it wasn't his fault.
"Make me," he purred back as he twisted away from the blade. He had known she was following him this entire time. They had seen the Avatar's tracks a few days ago, and out of the few people who dared interrupt the broody prince's solitude; Azula would've beaten him into the dirt by now, Lu Ten and Iroh would've taken him completely by surprise, and Ty Lee would've talked an ear off of him before he even made it one step.
That left the Avatar's companions, and the waterbender especially, who moved like a drunken saber-toothed moose lion.
"I DO NOT!" she screamed furiously back at him, and Zuko belatedly realized he'd been thinking out loud.
Well, then again, Azula always did say that he had a death wish.
He drew his dao swords as she moved into a waterbending position, waiting and watching for his attack. He had studied their form, realizing that waterbenders rarely went on offensive, preferring to adapt to their enemy, using their weakness against them.
Smiling, Zuko charged, intent on releasing the pent-up frustration that plagued him from being in such close quarters to his impossible-to-please father. He aimed a clear slash at her stomach, but was repelled by the water, pushed back a few feet.
Katara, after she got over the fact that he wasn't using firebending – Zuko had picked up the swords when he had to not-so-discreetly rescue the Avatar from the Yu Yuan archers, a group of fatalist Fire Nation military – met his advance, waterbending him straight into a tree, adding a water whip for good measure.
He firebended her into a volcano. Then, he stole her mother's necklace! Katara was ready to bend him all the way to the hellhole from which he came. But, to her surprise, the prince recovered quickly, the water whip splashing uselessly against his sword.
"You've gotten better, Katara," he noted, and she felt a flush of pride rise before she heard his mocking tone, "Or should I call you sifu?"
When Azula and Toph chanced upon them, two minutes later, it was to a near hysterical Zuko on the ground, laughing so hard tears were coming out of his eyes and a cursing Katara, who had managed to get herself entwined in the very tree branches she was trying to control.
Fortunately, she found other means to get her necklace back.
And, if luck was on her side, Zuko would remain with that bright red blush for the rest of her life.
promiscuous
She – what – couldn't – he – she had tried to seduce him! Zuko's ears burned at the very thought as he ignored the snide voice giggling in the back of his head that she succeeded.
She had come up to him, with his uncle, the Avatar, and half his entourage watching; sat in his lap, proceeded to kiss him until she had managed to untie the knot that held her necklace around his wrist, stood up – while squirming as much as possible – and walked off like nothing had happened.
Zuko groaned and flopped on his back, spread-eagled, in his tent. He could feel the beginnings of a hickey on his neck.
Resolutely ignoring the snickering inside his traitorous head, Zuko decided to forego the family dinner.
mad
They had stopped in Omashu by the time Zuko decided to show himself to camp; and his uncle had already hit it off with the Mad King, Bumi.
Doggedly ignoring Azula's and Toph's giggles – whoever let the mischievous heiress and sadistic princess meet did not just how frightening they were when together – he walked to his uncle's side, exchanging introductions with the old king, who gave him a surprisingly piercing glance, for a man reputed nations over to be insane.
Zuko had the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that his uncle had told half the Earth Kingdom what happened between him and Katara.
Someone grabbed his wrist and he half turned, resolving to burn this ignorant person who did not understand the meaning of propriety – he was a Fire Prince, and he deserved to be treated as such – and saw Katara, giggling.
"Come on, Zuzu," she tugged him by the wrist, out of the room and the safety of family, "Let's have some fun." She gave him a grin reminiscent of Azula's sneers.
Zuko spluttered, his ears turning red, as half the court watched the waterbender drag out their prince.
Half an hour later, it was sufficient to say that Katara had carried out her revenge, as she surveyed a groaning Zuko lying limply inside the post box at the end of the mail chute.
Who said anything about cold? Katara liked her vengeance served piping hot.
dread
Azula had mentioned something about Zuko and heights, and how they weren't really compatible after he had fallen off of the roof of the palace but Katara thought it was a silly little fear, something she could exploit the way he dangled the necklace teasingly out of reach.
However, the day after Katara took Zuko sledding in the mail chutes, the entire Fire Nation camp woke up at midnight to Zuko's terrified screaming.
Katara was the first one to burst in, closely followed by an ashen Azula, and saw Zuko, tangled up in his sheets, a sheen of sweat on his pale face, shaking in the horror of what he had witnessed.
Azula – looking concerned for the first time Katara had seen – ran to get her uncle while Katara barred the entrance of the tent and knelt down by Zuko's side.
"Bad dream?" she said, giving him one of her water skins so that he could splash his face. There was the sound of many footsteps outside the tent, but Katara knew that Zuko wouldn't want anyone to witness his weaknesses.
"Nightmare," he replied hoarsely, the water dripping down his face. The fear had left his eyes, but she could see the exhaustion draining his face as he calmed down.
"Talking about it will help," she said, touching her mother's pendant and remembering the times she had run to her brother after night terrors. Zuko shot her a disbelieving look but gave up when she sat cross-legged, not intending to leave.
Throwing the covers of his mat, he mimicked her position, clearing his throat and wondering where to begin. Katara had never really noticed before how he chose to sleep on the ground, shunning even the royal comfort of a bed.
"I was eight," he began, his eyes darting around the room, looking anywhere but at her, "And Azula was six. It was after our mother – after Uncle had become Fire Lord." She noticed the way he had hesitated, and resolved to pry the details out of him later.
"We were on the roof, watching the sparrow-hawks soar," Zuko's voice was raspy, unlike the childish undertone in Sokka's. She wondered how she had never noticed it before.
"Azula was acting her age, for once," Zuko smiled at the memory, "We went close to the edge and watched the miniature people on the ground, three floors below us." His eyes met hers, darted away, then hesitantly returned, meeting her unwavering gaze reluctantly.
"She pushed me off the edge." Katara did a double-take, having not heard this part of the story. She knew Azula was cruel, but this was –
Zuko laughed, a hysterical sort of laugh that started and ended quickly, every note grating on Katara's nerves. "She said – she said she wanted to see if I could fly," he gave a disbelieving smile as if he couldn't understand the simplicity of her excuse.
Katara showed no pity or sympathy in her face, knowing that Zuko wouldn't be able to take either of those things right now, but instead, showed him her fears, through her eyes, in the only way her pride enabled her to do.
When Azula poked her head in at dawn, it was to a half-clothed Katara and Zuko in an intimate embrace, both sleeping peacefully.
tea
Needless to say, Toph hadn't stopped her ribbing for weeks, and every sentence Azula spoke was riddled with double meanings and connotations. Sokka had nearly killed Zuko when he had understood what Toph was implying, and it was only the timely intervention of the Avatar that saved his life.
Of course, Aang had been none too happy about the arrangement and had watched the couple with envious eyes before finally giving up on his crush. It was clear that the waterbender was spoken for.
Zuko was actually happy once they reached Ba Sing Se, and promptly lost himself in the crowds. In his desire to get away from his family and his so-called friends, he found himself in a quaint tea shop in the Lower Ring.
Sipping the tea contemplatively – it was nearly as good as his uncle's, though Zuko would die before he told him that – he smiled and ordered a plate of pastries when he saw Katara enter.
She was wearing makeup, something Zuko had never seen on the practical waterbender, and her hair floated down in ringlets, a style far different from the half-braided mess her hair usually was.
She was also fidgeting, another trait that someone had kidnapped his lovely girlfriend and replaced her with this nervous imposter.
"What are you doing with all that gunk on your face?" Zuko asked bluntly, reaching for a strawberry cake. Azula always did say that Zuko ended up in most of his – situations – because he acted before he thought.
Luckily, he acted fast enough to avoid burning his face with scalding hot tea.
It was only after they left the teahouse – Zuko covered head to toe in the sweet-smelling liquid – that Katara actually listened to what he had said, and wiped her face clear of the artificial beauty products.
Zuko grinned, "See, that's much better. How did you expect me to kiss you with that – that stuff on you?"
Katara huffed and turned away, not showing Zuko the small smile that had crept up at his words. He was having none of it, however, and proceeded to cage Katara on the wall before kissing her so intensely that she had to be carried back to the Upper Ring.
Days later, when Katara and Zuko talked in a dungeon, the war between the Dai Li and the Earth King raging above ground, when she offered to heal him with the spirit water from an oasis in the North Pole, he caught her hand before she started.
He looked at her eyes, shining with unshed tears and gave a small smile, "This scar is a part of me, Katara. And I like myself the way I am."
le –
"But am I that hideous?"
"Way to ruin the moment, Zuko."
- fin
a/n: well, here is my introduction into the avatar genre. i understand that the writing goes up and down, but i just finished bio practicals, and i'm still kinda shaken up. expect more updates, as my breaks are coming up.