To Find Ally
Summary - [AU] There's a heavy reward for the return of Lord Ozai's "kidnapped" son. Jet becomes conflicted as to how to command his Freedom Fighters about this.
Disclaimer - I own neither ATLA, nor guerilla tactics, nor trees for that matter.
Warning - slash, non-graphic sex, some cursing
A/N - Done for avatarbigbang's mini bang pic prompt. I wasn't that familiar with Jet's character, so I re-watched the episode and noticed that the guy's addicted to lying. Big factor, there. Hope you like it!
no one washed behind my ears.
high in the trees alone for years,
practicing my solitary scales 'til they rose like balloons
watching them go where they will go.
face in the leaves, song in my throat.
fall through the air, hoping to float.
practicing my solitary scales 'til they grow heavy,
too heavy to carry.
watching them go where they will go.
song for lonely giants by the mountain goats
"Lord Ozai's son has run off."
A spark of surprise momentarily shifts Mai's passive eyes. "Run off?"
"I mean, kidnapped," General Zhao chortles. "Lord Ozai has already sentenced the culprit to death. And a heavy reward for the one who finds and returns him. The news will spread all through the lands by nightfall."
He watches her eyes for any sign of distress. There has been rumor that the Lady Mai harbors feelings for the nobleman's son, a fact that could easily be exploited. But the hard glint in her eyes does not break.
"You must be mistaken," Mai says, voice level. "Lord Ozai has no love for Zuko. Why would he go to such drastic measures?"
"Have you forgotten? The man loves power. That is enough to go to any measure, and accomplish anything."
"Son-of-a—!"
After a brief pause to catch breath, Zuko glares behind him at the five-foot fall he chanced upon on the dirt path. When he reaches for his breast pocket, perhaps more out of impulse than anything else, he finds himself empty-handed.
"Oh no," He whispers, no searching frantically through his clothes, "Oh shit…"
What is lost must be forgotten. Zuko knows that if he continues west he will encounter upon Iroh's lands, and his uncle would surely help him. As long as Zuko is given a chance to apologize for ever trusting his father.
And as long as his father's men don't find him first.
Jet fingers the trinket in his hands as Smellerbee waits for his response. "He can't be far, Jet."
"No, he can't," Jet nods. The thing is a ring, with an emblem of the house of Sozin encrusted in its rich, ruby center. He wonders what Lord Ozai's son could be doing with such a thing. "We're looking for a dandy boy, maybe hiding some place or getting lost. Get Pipsqueak and the Duke on the lookout, too."
"But what are we gonna do when we find him?" Smellerbee demands. "You can't turn him in, you're wanted yourself!"
"True," Jet grins, flipping the ring and tucking it in his back pocket. "But not if they have reason to believe that the boy'll be harmed in the process." Smellerbee eyes his hook swords in understanding. "Find him and bring him to the hideout. It shouldn't take long."
"He what?"
"Took us on," Smellerbee repeats grudgingly, Pipsqueak nursing a black eye behind her. "He didn't harm the duke but," she holds out her sword, now broken at the tip, "he didn't let us two go without a fight."
"He's Lord Ozai's son!" Jet exclaims wildly. "He's the offspring of that pig who feeds off the backs of all his peasants! How much of a fighter can he be if he's been locked in that castle all his life?"
Smellerbee says nothing, but fiddles with her broken sword.
"He has skill?"
She nods.
"This'll be harder than I thought," Jet sighs.
"You gonna go after him, Jet?" Pipsqueak asks, vengeful eyes waiting for the answer. But Jet pauses in his moody thinking and a light glows in his eyes. His lips twist into a crooked smile.
"No. I have a plan. Gather everybody up, this is a group effort."
Chase him down, but don't hurt him too badly.
Zuko can hear the scampering footsteps resounding closer and closer. When he tries to turn around and strike, an arrow whizzes inches from his head. He bites his lip and continues running.
Retreat and wait awhile. Let him think he's won. Then send a different group from another direction.
In the silence, Zuko rises slowly from his hiding place amongst the rocks. He rubs the sweat off his forehead and looks to the sun for direction after having lost his way. Everything is peaceful again, until he hears more charging his way.
This isn't about overpowering him, just intimidating him. Make him think that you fill the forest, and he has nowhere to go.
"Fuck," Zuko hisses breathlessly, now looking up at the trees. "There are more?" He takes off into the underbrush.
"Lemme have a go at him—"
"No!" Smellerbee snaps, arm blocking Pipsqueak from moving any farther. "We stick to Jet's plan." When she sees the wound covering his scowl, she softens her voice. "You just wait. We'll pay him back for what he did. Jet'll capture him no problem."
Retreat when you hear my signal. Then leave it up to me, I'll take care of it.
As the sun nears its setting time, Zuko curses the day for having been wasted over running away from a scattering of armed peasants. But perhaps not everything is lost. He can still find shelter. As he readjusts the straps to his shoes, a blinding light reaches his eyes. Zuko falls back, tickled by the feeling of dread. That wasn't just any light. Someone was reflecting it off a weapon.
"Hey there. Need help?"
Zuko blinks up. A boy dressed in white cotton that's soiled to the bone, hair as wild and dark as the woods around him and hand beckoning out to him. He frowns when he sees the swords. He's one of them?
Jet frowns slightly when Zuko wordlessly gets up himself and walks away from him. "Whoa, hey! Where you goin' ?"
Who the hell is this guy?
"Are you mute? That's alright if you are, I have a friend who's like that. Great guy."
Zuko flashes a look behind him, then moves on. "Or maybe you're deaf. Or do you speak another language? Hello? Can you understand me? Can you even hear me?"
Now knowing that he will not be left alone, Zuko turns around and demands, "Who are you and what do you want?"
"Calm down, now," Jet chuckles. "Name's Jet. I've a traveler, new to these parts. I saw my fellow man down on the ground and offered a helping hand. Nothing wrong with that, is there?"
"Traveler?" Zuko repeats, as if testing the sound on his tongue. "You'd better watch out, then. This is a dangerous place."
Jet's eyes widen. "What're you talking about?"
"You get ambushed left and right," Zuko mutters, cloaking his hair with his straw hat. "There's no telling what robbers or rapists are hiding behind the trees. I've had my day filled with them. If I were you, I'd turn back and go where I came from."
"But you're not me," Jet grins, "so you're not going back where you came from. What place might that be?"
This startles Zuko. He searches Jet for traces of a lie, but his questioning eyes are unwavering. "You mean…you don't recognize me?"
"Recognize you? From where? You look like a traveler yourself."
"You could say that," Zuko sighs. Please accept me back, Uncle Iroh.
"Come with me. I found a place to hide out not too long ago. We can camp out together." Jet turns around and walks swiftly, already expecting Zuko to follow him. Zuko frowns, watching his turned back as steadily as those two hook swords rest on his back. He could go. But he must not let his guard down.
"So, didn't catch your name," Jet says once Zuko is walking beside him. Even if he is new to Ozai's lands, Zuko doubts that he hasn't heard word of those wanted posters.
"My name's Li."
"Nice name," Jet says smoothly. "What're you doing out here, Li?"
His voice drops this time. Jet can barely hear him. "Just finding some family, I guess."
"This is it!" Jet holds out his arm proudly.
"This is it?" Zuko frowns, considerably less excited than his companion.
"Yeah, isn't it great?" Jet says, diving into the mess of trunks and leaves. "No one will think of looking for us in a pile of dead trees. I checked under there, and it's nice and dry. A great place for shelter."
"What caused such a thing?" Zuko asks, looking around him to survey the damage. Fifteen-or-so trunks lie in front of him, forming nearly an orderly batch of wood had it not been for a few on top that lie in a clutter.
Jet shrugs. "A storm, maybe. Or—"
"Or Ozai's men stopped on the job," Zuko says bitterly. He knows his father hungers for more resources, even at the very borders of his lands.
"You mean Lord Ozai?" Jet corrects testily. "I've heard of him, though not much. You know him, do ya?"
Zuko shakes his head. "Not at all."
Zuko wonders what he did to deserve getting stuck in a giant love nest with a sweaty nobody of a guy who wouldn't stop talking. Tales, always of wild myths he's heard and funny lines from his friends. Zuko remains silent to the story-telling, but the questions he cannot avoid, for Jet will prod him endlessly until he gets his answer.
"And you wouldn't guess what I found the other day," Jet says, procuring the ring from his back pocket. Zuko takes one look and bolts up.
"Hey! That's—!" But he catches himself when he sees Jet looking at him like that, brimming with curiosity.
"That's what?" He asks carefully.
"—really…pretty," Zuko finishes lamely. Jet laughs and puts it away, noticing out of the corner of his eye how Zuko's expression hungers to see it again.
"Never knew you liked jewelry," Jet says off-handedly. "I found it lying around the other day. Wonder who it could belong to?"
Zuko looks away again, eyes gone dead. "You never know, with the upper class."
"Yeah," Jet says.
"Scoundrels, all of them," They say in unison.
They don't quite believe it's just happened, but they whirl 'round to stare at each other, blinking slowly. "What do you have against the nobles?" Jet asks, openly showing suspicion for the first time.
"What everyone else has against them," Zuko says sharply. "They're selfish and heartless, and will stop at nothing to get what they want. Even at the risk of seeing their own family put in harm's way."
Jet lets out a low whistle. "Now that's an anger that could rival."
Zuko stares at nothing for a while, then asks, "Why do you hate them so much?"
Jet closes his eyes, a rare feat. He speaks softly to tell this particular tale, another rare feat. "I was young. Eight, maybe. My village was thought to be hiding fugitives, and my parents the prime suspects. When they searched our house, they didn't find any. But…"
"But?"
"They killed my parents anyway." Jet scowls, voice deepning. "And here I've been, ever since."
"You've been alone all this time?" Zuko asks, voice edging toward pity, but then he snorts. "What do you do, run around and pick up strangers?"
Jet surveys the man beside him; his humble appearance, his serious tone, his eyes singing not the song of a boy spoiled by the riches of his upbringing but one who finds fault against it. "Naw," Jet says, "picking up friends. What I do best."
Zuko rolls his eyes. "What did I ever do to deserve this?" He mutters to himself.
"What?" Jet says slowly, feeling himself edge closer. "You mean, this—?"
They can't seem to get their clothes off fast enough. Zuko is awkward at best, Jet decides, but endearingly so. He gets the position all wrong but moans sweetly all the same, so he can be forgiven. Jet takes it on his back because it feels like the disguised nobleman has frustration he needs to let out, and what better way than to pound Jet into the dirt, surrounded by wood and darkness?
None, Jet thinks as he orgasms against Zuko's disciplined abdomen and a gleeful smile cracks on his face. None at all.
Not long after they have finished, Zuko drifts to sleep with Jet smirking lazily at his side. This "Li" really isn't that bad…
He hears near-silent footsteps and predicts the bird-calling before it is heard. Jet reaches blindly for his clothes with no light from fire available and steals out of the logs, searching the trees for what could only be Smellerbee's call.
"Hey—"
"We heard you two, Jet." That shuts him up.
"Did you now?" He says slowly, speaking to the voice whose owner he cannot see. "Enjoyed the show?"
"Not funny," She deadpans. "You said you'd take care of it. Is this what you meant?"
"This was unplanned," Jet says. "But trust me, not all that bad."
"Is that a fucking joke?" Smellerbee rasps. "We're handing that boy over for the reward of the century! Tomorrow!"
"He's got the character of a fighter, Smellerbee," Jet responds seriously. "He's got that spirit! You must've felt it, you fought him."
"Yeah, I still do." The sound of moving metal hits the air. Smellerbee's damaged sword hits the ground with a defeated thud. "Seriously. What's more important to you, Jet? A guy who we don't even know we could trust? Or enough money to keep us supplied for years, maybe even the rest of our lives?"
Jet closes his eyes in frustration, wishing he had something to chew on. He hears Smellerbee land and retrieve her sword. "Make up your mind tomorrow. We'll be ready for anything."
"I hope you are," Jet murmurs. She leaves without another word. Jet sighs heavily and goes back inside to collapse next to Zuko.
He dreams oddly that night, of their sets of swords dancing with each other and the wind hitting the trees as if each leaf is a note to be played.
"You've been alone all this time?" A voice behind him asks. Jet turns and sees Zuko, but in noble garb with his hair pinned up. Jet growls and readies for attack. But then, "Let me join you." And then Zuko lets his hair down and throws off his robe for simpler wear. They rise up in the air together, with the leaves around them and the weight of solitude finally lifted from Jet's chest.