Title: EnemyFandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Character(s): Song
Rating: G
Genre(s): General, Angst, Hurt
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the stories I write, including this one.
Summary/Note: Song comes across a wanted poster of Prince Zuko for the first time.
Originally written: Spring 2007
Word Count: 396
Edit 2/23/2008: Thank you manchurian for pointing out the the present/past-tense error!
The anger returned.
She had been so sure that she had found a kindred spirit in him. His eyes spoke volumes of what he felt, of the great sorrow he held and she had wanted nothing more than to tell him that whatever had happened to him was not his fault.
She didn't know that those sharing his blood line were the same that killed thousands, millions and scared even more emotionally and physically. She didn't know that his eyes were the same golden orbs as the Fire Lords of the past who sought power and blood.
The pain returned.
But he was not the one who did those things. She had heard that the young Fire Nation prince had been exiled 3-4 years ago, far too young to have fought in the war or cause harm with the sliver of innocence in his eyes.
That had not stopped him from rejecting her comforting words and touch; from distancing himself from his uncle; from stealing from her mother and her.
She felt lost.
She didn't know how to feel.
Recalling the night of his leave, she remembered his eyes when she showed him her burn. His sorrow clouded his golden eyes, shame marred his weary face, and regret creased his noble brow.
She didn't realize that his apology had not been of sympathy, but on behalf of the entire Fire Nation.
He had wanted forgiveness from her for something he, himself, had not done.
He was innocent of the crimes of his country, but he bore the face of the enemy.
She wanted to forgive him, but her agonized memories wanted to condemn him.
He was the enemy.
He shared the same inner conflicts that had renewed themselves in her.
He was the enemy.
He had acted civil and had humbly sought out her help when his uncle had been in need.
He was the enemy.
He was a fugitive, wanted by his homeland and all the other countries.
He was the enemy.
But she wanted to …
She walked up to the wanted poster.
Her hand reached out attentively to the image with harsh eyes, eyes that had not been that harsh when she had gazed into them; her fingers a breath away from the printed scar before she dropped the outstretched appendage.
She spat into the Fire Nation wanted poster.
He was the enemy.