So. There's a bit of a trope of Zuko ending up with healing fire, whether through supernatural or scholarly forces. I don't know how popular it is anymore, but I'm going to write a fic off of it. It's not going to be a normal healing fic. No. This one is much different.
Disclaimer: I'm only going to say it once—I definitely don't own anything, if you sue me all you'll get is an old laptop and a bunch of notebooks full of crappy story ideas.
No.
Zuko felt his body sail through air like a kite—carried by the wind—the Avatar's wind.
My ship doesn't go this far.
Good eye widening like a saucer, Zuko made a last desperate thrash as he realized that he wasn't going to hit the deck. He wasn't even going to touch the railing. He was gone. His fingers brushed the anchor chains, skidding over wet, frozen metal, then slipped.
He plummeted into the abyss.
Cold.
Zuko's back hit water like a boulder, forcing the air up and out of his lungs. He coughed and sputtered as his armor pulled him below the waterline, sucking in a deep gulp of seawater.
Cold.
He felt his fingers and toes start to go numb as he stretched for the surface, dragged over downwards by his armor. His lungs burned, and he longed to try and expel the water trapped in them, but three long years at sea had taught him nothing if not survival skills.
Cold.
Zuko's fingers fumbled blindly with the straps of his armor, unable to feel anything. He didn't understand. He was a good swimmer. So why wasn't he going up? Why was he still sinking?
Please, Agni, if you care, if you ever cared, please help me...
Black spots obscured his vision, and Zuko could feel his heart slowing down, sputtering out.
Please! Anyone! Someone, please, help me... I don't want to die... please.
Zuko vaguely got the sense of bright blue eyes and snow-white hair before he faded into oblivion.
Iroh ran out onto the deck when he caught the sight of glowing tattoos and a wave of water and air from the bridge. The Avatar was making off with his Sky Bison, the two Water Tribe siblings on board with him.
Turning, he surveyed the damage. Soldiers and sailors were strewn all over the deck, some frozen and some knocked unconscious from the Avatar's assault. Carefully, Iroh picked his way through them, desperate searching for the familiar face of his nephew. When he could not spot him, he made for Captain Jee, hoping to see Zuko with him.
"Captain!" Iroh called. "Have you seen Prince Zuko?"
Jee knit his brows, and he thought. "As far as I can recall, no. You best check the bridge—"
"The prince?" A crewman—Kan, Iroh realized—spat. "He's gone. Saw the Avatar sweep him overboard myself. And good riddance of that little weakling."
The last part was whispered to a fellow sailor, but Iroh managed to pick up the words nevertheless. He whirled on Kan. "Keep your tongue between your teeth." Iroh growled, eyes narrowing and the true Dragon of the West persona surfacing. "My nephew is more honorable than half of you here. Do not doubt his strength. Do not ever doubt his strength."
Iroh turned to Jee. "Get me some rope." His heart beat frantically. Please, please let my nephew be alive. Please. I cannot loose another son.
Jee returned with a long rope, but hesitated in handing it over. "General..." He said gently, "It's been over ten minutes."
Iroh hit him with a full glare. "Rope, Captain."
Reluctantly, Jee handed it over. Iroh snatched it and secured it to the rail, then leaped over the side.
Cold.
That was the first thing that registered in his mind when he hit the water and sank, eyes opening to scan the murky depths for the red armor he knew so well.
Please, he begged.
Iroh surged toward the surface, gulping in a deep breath and diving again. His heart plummeted as the minutes ticked by, and still no sign of his beloved nephew.
Iroh was about to head for the surface once more when suddenly, a flash of light caught his eye. Deep below him, a bright blue sphere of glowing water was quickly rising towards the surface. Startled, Iroh swam out of the way and watched as it rose.
The bubble rise the air, dissipating just as Iroh's head broke the surface. His heart lept into his throat at what lay floating in the center.
Pale, ashen skin, and sopping wet black hair, surrounding a horrible red scar.
Zuko.
Iroh swam with all his might towards his nephew's floating body. Floating. With armor. He gripped the cold flesh, and gaze a tug on the rope. Moments later, they were sprawled across the deck, Zuko's limp form hanging from Iroh's arms like a corpse.
Iroh gently set Zuko on the deck, and proceeded to try and revive him. He knit his fingers together and pumped his chest, hoping, praying, for the cough and flicker of golden eyes, even the insults and scorn that usually followed an accident like this one.
Zuko choke, and rolled onto his side, vomiting seawater. Iroh rubbed his back as the boy strained to remove all of the offending liquid from his lungs, until his nephew's hoarse coughs slowed into shuddering breaths and half-suppressed sobs. Gently, he waited.
"U-Uncle?" Zuko's gold eyes flickered sluggishly over to where Iroh was sitting, tears shining in his own amber orbs.
Iroh gave him a small smile. "I am here, nephew."
Sucking in a shaking breath, Zuko looked up at his uncle, and Iroh was suddenly struck with exactly how young Zuko truly was. Barely sixteen, and already scarred, hurt, and sent off to die on an impossible quest.
Sadly, Iroh met the wide golden eyes. "Prince Zuko, are you well?"
Zuko glanced away, staring out at the ocean that had nearly killed him. "I..." His voice came out hoarse and barely above a whisper, so he tried again. "I—I'm fine, uncle."
"Are you certain?" Iroh chided.
Zuko's angry gaze snapped to him, suddenly aware of the crew standing around them and the whispers and stares directed his way. "Uncle, I'm fine." To prove his point even further, Zuko placed his hands upon his knees and forced his trembling body to stand. "See?" He said pointedly. "I'm fine."
The crew's whispers grew even louder at that, and Iroh knew why. No one nearly drowned and then got up and walked away like nothing had happened. The crew had seen what happened in the water, they knew how Zuko had gotten to the surface, even if Zuko himself didn't.
Spirit-touch, Iroh thought. The glowing water, an unearthly blue... for a moment he'd sworn he'd seen strands of snow-white hair trailing through the water as Zuko rose. Whatever it was, it would have to be faced later. Zuko needed help, and he could use a warm drink and a blanket himself at the moment. But whatever the spirits had done to his nephew could wait for later to be investigated.
Gently, Iroh stood and grasped Zuko's elbow, feeling the way the boy was trembling under the thick layers of armor and wool, averting his eyes to the ocean to avoid the crew's stares. "Prince Zuko," he breathed, "perhaps we should go warm up."
The boy flushed ligthly, knowing that Iroh had caught on to his discomfort. "I—fine, uncle."
Iroh smiled, and led his exhausted nephew to the kitchen.
They had much to discuss.
So, first chapter. I'm hoping the rest of the chapters will be a bit longer, but for now around 1500 words is fine per chapter.
This fic is basically a result of a bunch of one-shots, tropes, theories, hints, and clips taken and mashed together to form a *slightly* canonical story. There may be ships in the future, but for now this fic will simply be a gen fic. It's Zuko-centric, if you haven't noticed already.
R&R!
~Realm-Leaper