Summary: Zuko is banished, sent on a dangerous mission to assassinate the king of an underground resistance movement. Jetko
Author's Note: The first chapter is just an introduction, it was posted without being looked over and I was in a rush to finish it. The horrible transitions and writing should be enough to tell you that. It's a little slow, I hope you can read through that. Sorry x(
When Zuko woke up, he realized that the four walls of his room were gray, not red. He saw a small door to a bathroom, empty floors, and light from a moon too bright. He was not in the Fire Nation.
He hadn't been in the Fire Nation for three years at least, but cruelly happy dreams plagued him almost every night, and an Earth Kingdom sky welcomed him every morning. It was six am, and the sun still refused to rise. The smell of leaves and dew soaked through thin walls, and Zuko bitterly imagined himself burning all forests to the ground, pumping enough fire into the atmosphere to force the world to conform to Fire Nation summer. Then he imagined returning home so that he wouldn't have to, then he imagined fulfilling his mission, and then he cringed thinking of his own failures.
Suddenly, he began imagining too much. He started to sweat, sitting up and keeping still and tense, although he felt as if he should pace.
Zuko's thoughts jumped quickly and often, like a nervous cricket. His brain started the habit a short time after he was banished, and his eyes observed the dark walls and the bright moon out the window in short flicks that went back and forth, as if surfaces and planetary satellites could betray him. He felt uncomfortable and always exposed. An audience was watching him constantly, they knew all his secrets and would yell them at his enemies, and would cheer, relishing his death.
But Zuko knew he hadn't even faced any enemies yet. This shamed him. His goal was still so far out of reach.
Jet.
And as he waited in a small and borrowed room, not even attempting sleep, he dreamt while awake. He felt excited shivers as he imagined his return, a famous head in a bloody bag, a father at the end of a long carpet, cheering crowds on either side of his path. He realized that these thoughts were shameful as well, because he hadn't done a thing to earn them. He shouldn't have hope at all.
His head spun, and he debated with himself, and he felt utterly insane.
He didn't know what the man he wanted looked like. He wasn't calculating like his sister. And after three years, he only had two names. Jet, Longshot. One was a goal. The other was a step. He would kill them both. One for glory. The other was a bonus.
He would succeed tomorrow. He would have reason to hope.
Zuko knew by now that he had made sleep impossible for himself, and he realized that his body had frozen while his mind raced, blood rushing against his temples angrily. I was going to do something. What was it?
"I'm Li." He held out his hand, stained a glowing green under the leaves of high trees, watching the boy before him.
Longshot said nothing, but gripped his hand firmly. His eyes didn't search for Zuko's intentions, yet it seemed as if he already understood him completely without exchanging a word.
Zuko knew that Longshot would be pleasant company in the future.
They turned in a direction that lead off the straight forest path, then their feet felt ground that became bumpy and mushy and unpleasant to step on. Zuko immediately thought of cobbled gardens and the gentle sounds of water. He quickly redirected his thoughts to Longshot, following Longshot, Jet is the goal.
Ten minutes later, Zuko was focusing on his hands and feet, aligning them with each step so that his left hand and right foot came forward at around the same time.
He was bored.
"I'm pretty skilled at the dual Dao. What division will I be assigned to? How are you organized?" Zuko voiced each question slowly, in between intervals. He didn't like talking, but Longshot was unusually quiet, and Zuko felt awkward walking next to him.
Longshot turned his head to glance at him, but said nothing. The gesture was almost rude.
They continued to walk amongst the bottoms of old trees and the cheerful sounds of a warm afternoon. Zuko couldn't remember where they started or what directions they took, because there had been too many turns and sharp corners, and it was almost as if Longshot was lost. There was no trail to follow, only patches of uneven grass and dirt between thick roots. Zuko felt trapped and immediately decided that he didn't like being surrounded by so much earth, and his fingers twitched with the urge to set fire and clear space.
Longshot held up his hands, three fingers up on one and a circle formed by the other. Thirty minutes more of walking. He was trying to reassure, and he obviously believed that Zuko was only a war-shy peasant. He probably thought that when they reached their base, Zuko would demonstrate only curiosity and clumsiness.
I know who you are, Longshot's eyes stated. Zuko would make sure to surprise him, and as he watched his companion's straight back, he made assumptions of his own.
Dressed like a peasant, and sent to fetch new recruits. Longshot was probably only a soldier, part of the lowest rung in the power ladder. He didn't bother to read Zuko as deeply as he should have, which meant that he had walked this path and met many new faces before Zuko. These inferences did not match the description Zuko had obtained through painstaking research.
Longshot was supposed to be Jet's second in command. Zuko was heading towards what should be the headquarters of an organization spread throughout the earth nation, water nation and even parts of the fire nation. From what he knew, power was centralized and communication somehow ran smoothly even between branches of the movement separated by oceans and miles of land.
He had been expecting to meet a man much older, and he hadn't expected to meet Longshot.
The true leader of the organization. Nobody's even seen Jet before. He's probably not even a real person.
Zuko found that disheartening thoughts usually led to more disheartening thoughts. If his father thought that Jet didn't exist, then perhaps he hadn't just been hoping to teach his son a lesson. Maybe he was really just banishing him, and didn't want to ever see him again. And Zuko forced himself to deny this as best as he could, because if it was true…
Longshot turned once more, and held his fingers up. Twenty minutes. He looked amused. Zuko wondered how he could command an organized army without ever speaking.
Longshot didn't turn back around. He looked at Zuko's scar, and then looked at Zuko's eyes.
How'd you get that? Said Longshot's expression.
Then he finally faced forward, and began walking. Slower this time, though. He wanted Zuko to talk.
Zuko prepared himself to speak, and recounted part of the story that he had fabricated nearly two years ago. "My parents are peasants." He winced. No peasant called himself a peasant. "Fire Nation raided our village, and we were not prepared. Our house was set on fire, and I was burned while evacuating with my family."
Longshot made no effort to walk any faster, and Zuko knew he expected more.
"We went to Omashu, but as you know, it has recently been taken over by the Fire Nation. My parents wanted to stay, but I wanted to try and make a difference." I want to go home. "I left to try and join Jet. I… learned how to use the dual Dao from a master in Omashu. I thought my skills could be useful." But when I kill you, it will be with fire.
"Jet," Longshot said, and Zuko jumped at the sound of his voice. "Maybe you will meet him. Maybe not." And then he walked faster. The conversation was over.
At one point, Zuko noticed a change in the forest. Less trees, more grass. Sunlight actually managed to disperse itself in areas spanning more than a few inches. Zuko found this odd. If he were to try and hide a large group of people, he would not place them in such a sparse area. The Fire Nation was thorough in their searches. This area must only be a section of forest to pass through.
Longshot signaled with his hands again, but he didn't face Zuko this time. Five minutes. Almost there.
And soon enough, in what seemed to be much longer than five minutes, Longshot stopped. The sunlight was spread even wider here, and the grass seemed to be a color similar to gold. There was no one. Longshot looked at Zuko. He gave him a piece of paper to read, and Zuko laughed to himself, wondering if the other boy hated to speak so much that he had to resort to writing his thoughts to communicate.
The letter only had two sentences. If you pass here, it stated, and the words were large and lopsided, handwriting that Zuko refused to believe belonged to Longshot. You can't turn back. And if you try to leave, you're dead.
Longshot watched him, and waited. Zuko did not even bother to spend two seconds making a decision, and nodded once, firmly and quickly.
Longshot bent and placed his hand on the ground, his whole arm disappearing between the thick and tall grass. He tensed and pulled at something.
Zuko didn't even have time to blink or jump in surprise. A circle of grass covered earth plunged below ground, and Longshot jumped in the hole created without a sound. Zuko peered into the darkness of the hole, and shuddered.
He placed two legs over the side, and hesitated to soak as much sun as possible. Then he slid down.
It was fast, and Zuko was unprepared. The tunnel's walls were comprised of compressed and smooth earth, and he wanted to scream for help, and wanted the journey to end. He couldn't see anything at all, his eyes moving around fast but only comprehending heavy blackness. His heart beat fast, his body stilled, and the fear he felt was so great that even his head began to hurt and his limbs stung and tensed in anticipation of something, something was going to happen…
And then there was a rise, and smooth curve upward in the earth, and Zuko was flung up, and then down on something soft. He allowed himself a small and very unmanly squeak.
"What the fuck?"
There was a flicker of noise, and his still stiff and jumpy body twitched as a sudden light swelled to surround him. Longshot was there with a torch he hadn't seen him carrying before, and he turned to walk again. Zuko shook on the floor and decided he was not pathetic enough to allow himself to continue, and he forced his arms to push him up, and his legs to walk.
Longshot seemed unruffled, his wide straw hat still sat atop his head, and the arrows in the container on his back were still in place. He had held onto them before entering, and Zuko frowned and felt a weak and short lived resentment at Longshot for not warning him beforehand.
They walked again, and Zuko found a rhythm in his steps, and felt his quivering dissipate. He continued to feel the chill aftermath of an unpleasant surprise, the numb disbelief at the back of his mind so that his legs moved without him thinking. It was as if even his brain had tensed, and Zuko swore that part of his soul had been left above ground at his sudden plunge into the earth.
The underground cavern was arched and the walls smooth. Zuko suspected that there were many earthbenders in the organization, enough to create what could almost be an entire town made of tunnels.
They reached a door. Longshot gave him another piece of paper, and Zuko found himself still too shaken to be amused. The letter was in the same uncouth handwriting, and Zuko squinted in the dim torchlight to read the message.
When you walk past this door, you will be a Freedom Fighter. Whatever you find out past this door, you will tell no one. You will not see the sun until you have become a full-fledged Freedom Fighter.
Zuko's heart sank as he realized he would be trapped in darkness for an undisclosed amount of time. He returned the scrap of paper to Longshot, and the door was opened.
He entered the room. Longshot stayed outside. He saw a bookshelf.
There was a noise coming from his left. Zuko's burned side was on his left, and his eye had hardly any peripheral vision.
He turned and saw the back of a high chair. It was funny for some reason, theatrical. He waited for the chair to turn.
It did. He saw a teenager who looked to be his age. Zuko snorted. Weren't there any adults working here?
The boy spoke.
"So, you wanna be a freedom fighter?"
Wow, that was awfully boring. Not even I could read through it. I promise it'll get better.
Anyway, leave a review! Reviews make me want to write. Unless you want me to stop, which is perfectly understandable. I hate this chapter too. But if you hated it, leave an angry flame please! Or constructive criticism, which is actually preferable. Any compliments will be permanently stored in my memory and will be recalled before I go to sleep at night while I SQUEE the whole time.
What I dislike about this chapter:
-Way too slow, and sometimes, way too fast. I especially hated the beginning.
-Zuko is out of character. He thinks too much.
-Longshot talked. WTF. Alright, I'm kidding. But he didn't talk for an important reason.
-Horrible descriptions. Rushed. There's probably a million mistakes and awkward sentences scattered throughout this chapter, argh.
I hate my writing.