Once upon a time there lived a prince. In a moment of despair, he made a wish that changed all circumstances he hoped weren't fixed, and found that they weren't…but fate just wouldn't give him a break. ZukoToph
Chapter 1: Miso Soup
Prince Zuko rested his chin on his palm as he listened to the plans for the final battle against the Avatar's Alliance: the coalition of the last free armies of the world, led by the Avatar. It seemed that Fire Nation was finally reaching its century long quest to conquer the four nations, and with his limited resources, there was only so much even the Avatar could do.
Treacherous thoughts swirled in Zuko's head and slowly the tension in his body began to build. He made the right decision, helping Azula. After all, it was the only way to save Uncle, right? If he could gain enough trust, he could keep Uncle from being executed as a traitor. There was no way Uncle would have escaped after that fight, right? Right? Then why was his gut clenching as his fist was? Why did he feel as if that waterbender had encased his torso in ice? Why was—
"—Prince Zuko?"
His eyes snapped to the general that addressed him and he was relieved to find that his instincts had kicked in before he completely drifted off, and he knew exactly what the general was talking about. Lately, he felt as if there were two people residing in a single body, each with different motives and goals. Was this how the Avatar felt? Conflicted between the many souls he held? But the Avatar was just one soul. One very experienced and more importantly, peaceful soul.
Prince Zuko answered.
No, he had brought this upon himself. He had tried to quash the side of him that almost went over to the Avatar's side. Years in that burning, angry palace with cold emotions all around him, trying to mold him into the proper prince when that just wasn't him. The blue and red dragon. Apathy and passion. Ruthlessness and mercy. Yin and Yang. How cliché. But still, everything came back to that, didn't it? Keeping the balance between the two. Where had his balance gone?
The meeting ended and the scarred prince returned to his chambers to mull over the battle plans he had just heard. Could he really go through with this? Was this what he wanted?
No.
It was surprising how quickly the answer came to him. But that was the wrong answer. He was Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation! He was brutal and pitiless. He didn't go soft at the first sign of danger or turmoil. The thoughts drilled into his head since he was a child called to him and he felt his mind fog. He wasn't who he had been born to be. He wasn't fit to be a Fire Lord as his status dictated.
If only…if only he had been born into a different family. Then he would be free of the expectations and the rules, the violence and rage! The colliding forces within himself.
"I wish I weren't my father's son."
And suddenly, he was standing in front of a stove, stirring a pot full of miso soup. Wearing a pink apron.
"Zuko darling! Are you up alread—what's wrong!"
Zuko felt his breath catch in his throat as he saw his mother standing before him, alive. She was older than he remembered with deeper wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, and by her nose and mouth. Wrinkles that followed the lines of her smile. She was breathing, and Zuko's sharp eyes saw her shoulders rising and falling ever so slightly. Her heart beat and her face glowed with life.
Oh my.
"Oh my!" His mother's words echoed his thoughts and she rushed to turn the heat down as soup bubbled over the sides of the pot. "Zuko, you look a little pale. Oh and look!" She touched the back of a slightly warm hand to his forehead. It was warm warm warm warm! Not cold or stiff like a porcelain doll! "You're forehead's burning up! Go back to bed. I'll make breakfast alright?"
Zuko nodded mutely, unable to speak or think or feel. His brain was overloaded with thoughts and emotions, and he was unsure as to which one to address first. Fear? Was this all just a dream that would be snatched away from him the moment Azula's sharp fingernails pierced his shoulder to wake him? Or maybe anger. This is how mother should be! Alive and well and not being devoured by worms and maggots. Surprise? Really, what had happened? What had changed? Did his wish come true?
The wish!
And then the memories hit.
"Argh!" He clenched his teeth and grabbed a handful of hair, trying to distract himself from the images pounding at his temple. As they came back, he stumbled to his room—because he knew it was his room now, and always had been for the past sixteen years. Lights dotted his vision and black sprouted from their centers before he collapsed on the floor, unconscious.
-0-
If anyone has suggestions for the direction of this story, please leave it in a review. Otherwise, it would be nice to get at least 5 reviews before I start the next chapter…XP Press that little grey review button!