Special thanks to Gift Of Dragons for beta-ing.
~Z~
A strange sense of calm had asserted itself over Zuko, and he considered where it came from as he trotted his ostrich-horse trough the mud, up towards Azula's tank.
Certainly, being good should be its own reward. But, it turned out there was a special bonus to trying to be 'good' in his particular situation. One that Zuko would never have thought of- never would have hoped for, had it not presented itself to him so readily.
A bonus to doing good within Azula's striking distance - who would have thought it?
From his Uncle, Zuko knew a great part of 'good', was in – at least outwardly – pretending to be happy and good-natured: trusting, friendly.
Taking these traits to heart, especially when dealing with his sister, resulted in a completely fake - not to mention dangerous - performance on his side. But Zuko told himself that it was not really lying; he was just trying to be amiable. If Azula would ask he'd confess in a second that he was not happy at all. Hell, he'd ask her if she preferred him to scream at her. Zuko was pretty sure that would be easier; more naturally.
However, Azula did not ask. No; when Zuko rode up to her on his ostrich-horse, and with the cheeriest voice he could muster, asked if there was anything he could do for her...
She just twitched her eyebrows.
Then, slowly, still from her perch on top of her tank, she let the spyglass drop from her eye and she turned to regard him with a slight frown.
Who would have ever thought; Zuko's attempts at being amiable would break Azula's perfect façade of calm?
To Zuko, it was a complete reversal of roles; for too, too long he had been the butt of her jokes. Reeled into her ploys and lies although he knew better than to trust her – was close to paranoid around anyone, especially his little sister.
Now, simply by deciding he'd play along and smile at any pitfall she had in store for him, willingly, he seemed to have done the impossible; he was getting under her skin. The thought brought a true smile to Zuko's face, and it, in response, caused his baby sister's frown to deepen.
'Not nice!' Zuko had to scold himself, schooling his features.
After all, being good had little to do with people getting what they deserved. No, that was justice; a far easier concept, in Zuko's opinion. But good had to do with, well, him acting nice and friendly and passively letting people do as they pleased.
That's what his Uncle had always done, that's what the Avatar did. It pretty much rubbed him the wrong way, but Zuko was sure that 'good' would rub him the wrong way. Just like the Avatar himself had always grated on Zuko's nerves.
Anyway, he only had to play nice until a certain line was crossed.
Where exactly that line lay was a different problem, but the prince was pretty sure it had to do with other people – preferably nobodies - having their rights squashed. It should not be about Prince Zuko, having his own sensibilities triggered.
Oh yes, being good was hard.
But at least it was hard on Azula too; for once, his sister was as far out into uncharted waters as he was.
With a flick of her mane, his sister dismissed any troubling thoughts she might have had, raising a finger to point at a ragged-edge peek of a mountain in the distance. On its top, only just visible, Zuko could discern a shape in orange-yellow clothing. "You said you'd found us the Avatar, brother?"
Azula finally managed her trade-mark smirk, back to her perfect self. "Go get him then, Zuzu."
~~A~~
The Avatar was not well. Just riding his sky-bison took almost all the recourses the little air-bending monk had left, so he was pleased when there came an end to it; Appa inched close to the small stone platform atop the highest mountain they could find, and Aang had stepped over, staff in hand. Drained, he quickly settled down in a meditation pose, calming his breath as well as he could, trying to look somewhat hale.
Not that any patient should ever be able to fool his own physician; not about his. - Not a physician worth a dime at least, and definitely not a water-bending healer.
Still, Aang smiled at his friend: "I got this Katara. Go save our friends."
She looked through his charade, of course. Perched atop Appa's head Katara frowned, as that impossibly big, flying beast that was Aang's one true companion floated in the air before him. Worry was plain on her face as she said "How about we change clothes, and I pretend to be you and…"
"Don't be silly, Katara." he cut in, voice grimmer then he had intended. "You cannot fly my glider, and I don't have the strength to save Toph, Sokka and Momo."
Indeed, the water-bender looked chastised, knowing he was right. Aang tried for another hesitant smile. But, Spirits, he hurt!
"It'll be okay, Katara. I'll just glide out of here as soon as they close in on me. I can do that in my sleep."
Half-heartedly, the girl gave him a nod, claiming: "You just head south and I'll pick you up before day-break tomorrow, you hear?"
And Aang nodded, grinning, and watched her back up Appa and fall down to the tree line, then followed them with his eyes along a low, bee-lining trajectory towards the way they had come.
In the far distance, the smoke of Azula's tank was already visible. So Aang watched, and waited, and prayed that his bison had managed to stay out of view. The decoy-action seemed to work tough, as the tank's smoke slowly came closer and closer, and so the young Avatar settled himself into the lotus position and waited.
The air-bender tried to keep his thoughts away from the pain - both the physical, and the mental; he had failed again. And again, a friend had to sacrifice himself for Aang's shortcomings. This time, the casualty was Zuko's kind elderly uncle: a man that had declared for them only minutes earlier had come to their group's aid and provided enough cover for little more than an escape from a full-out defeat.
And Aang – the Avatar, supposedly the undefeatable spirit of the world itself- had nothing to show from the encounter but a wound, a broken spirit, and his enemies newly united against him. Sadness didn't even begin to describe it; in fact, it would not surprise the boy if that soft drizzle of rain that came down on his head right now was a direct result of his mood.
He was, after all, the spirit of the world incarnate.
Not that that supposed fact ever made Aang feel strong, or even knowledgeable: no, only overburdened and completely out of his depth…
.
What seemed only a moment later, his eyes snapped open.
Damn, but it seemed Aang was indeed going to have to make his escape while sleeping. When had he dozed off? A quick scan of the horizon eased his fears however; the tank was a lot closer, but not quite at the foot of his jagged-peak mountain.
Aang shook his head to clear it of sleep, and slapped himself in the face twice for good measure. Then he winced, as his back-muscles, still torn, protested the sudden movement.
"I. Don't. Believe. It!"
Aang's head snapped to the left, finding the source of that raspy voice; likely the reason the air-bender had been startled awake before.
Zuko, prince of the Fire Nation, was in the process of pushing himself up the rocks, up to the Avatar's small perch. One last shove, balancing on hands, and a leg made it up as well. Then, he was standing a mere three feet away, breathing heavily. He was all in green, except for a white bandage wound round his head.
Aang struggled to his feet, using his glider-staff to prop himself up; his feet felt like jelly, and the action left him light-headed; too much, too soon.
"How did you get here so fast?"
The boy-Avatar finally managed, in a sadly transparent bid for time.
The fire-prince threw him an unreadable look through mismatched eyes, and then straightened somewhat from his fighting stance to favor his side; it appeared even Fire Nation royalty could get winded.
"A well-walked ostrich-horse at breakneck speed through the forest and…" another huff "Superior climbing skills."
He swallowed his next breath: ."Seriously, though, this is twice in one day; are you trying to get caught?"
"I passed out!" Aang snapped, feeling defensive in a whole new and different way. "Why are you chasing me anyway? I though you said you were good now?"
The older boy turned to double over, hands on his knees as some sort of coughing fit racked him.
It took Aang a moment to realize he was laughing! Apparently, it was some sort of sick joke to him. The implication was almost too cruel to process.
"You were lying?"
If the boy-Avatar's voice broke at the end of that—well, Aang liked to believe the best of people, so he felt he was allowed to at least feel hurt when things turned out differently.
Feel hurt. And betrayed.
With a sudden choke the prince straightened, raising his hands in a frantic wave: "No!No; just a small case of hubris from my side."
Empty hands; no swords, no fire. Aang's dream revitalized, as the elder boy elaborated.
"I should have said, trying to be good; 'trying' the main verb here—it's all a bit more difficult then I imagined. But I am pretty sure you should not be caught, and then Azula set me at you, and I figured you had fallen asleep or something…"
"Passed out." Aang replied, weakly.
"Right; passed out." The fire-bender stepped to the side with a hand-gesture backwards. "So go on, get out of here."
Relief and hope bloomed up from his gut, and Aang could hardly suppress a smile from spreading to his face; but for once, the boy opted for cold reason, stamping on that feeling. He had almost died little over a week ago. And that was, in no small part, thanks to the teen standing in front of him now.
With cool calculation, the Avatar studied the scarred boy's face—ah, but it did not help that the fire-prince looked like an angry wolf-dog staring down a rabbit-doe. And Aang always felt like the rabbit-doe—which was ridiculous, Aang knew. He was the Avatar, for crying out loud! He was the most powerful bender in the world, and all that.
But right now, he was just twelve-year old kid: a wounded twelve-year old child.
Aang had too much riding on his life to take foolish chances now; he needed to be sure. "You're letting me go?"
Focusing on the right, unscarred side of the other's face helped. On that side, Zuko did not look 'going-to-kill-everything-in-my-way' angry; more a sort of 'I-knew-it-was-going-to-be-one-of-these-days' grim.
"That's right."
The prince's swords were still in their sheaths on his back. Fire was faster, but surely, this was not some elaborate ploy for the prince to get a free shot at Aang's back? No, Zuko would never do that. That would be…
"Katara said I cannot take your word," the air-bender admitted reluctantly, "because you have lost your honor, and so it doesn't mean anything to lie."
Ah, there that look was again: angry wolf-dog. Or maybe wounded Komodo-bull. Words were spat with sudden vehemence:
"And what do you say, Avatar? Do I now need honor too, to be good?"
Instinctively, Aang understood the importance of the question. So he thought, long and hard. For once, the young air-bender thought for himself—not repeating what his masters had taught him, or even what his friends said. His smooth face crunched up in thought, the top arrow bunching up as he frowned.
"I do not still do not fully understand honor. But I do know what it means to be good. No, I do not think the two are related."
It seemed for once, Aang had given the right answer; that right half of the other's face, the side Aang kept his sights on, relaxed, looking almost pleased.
"So there you go. I'll work on doing the right thing, and you focus on getting the hell out of here." This was accompanied by another hand gesture; down the cliff, to indicate a bird in flight.
One last thing though, Aang considered as he chewed his bottom lip: "And what will Azula say?"
Half a face turned wry: "I imagine she'll say I'm an idiot for falling off a cliff?"
Well, caution be damned: Aang just didn't care anymore. Staff in one hand, the air bender threw himself forward, wrapping his arms around the bigger boy and burying his face in a green earthy shirt.
"I knew you were good! This is so great!"
"Ah?"
"Now we can all be friends! And we can go on picnics! And travel on Appa…"
"Um."
"And, you'll teach me fire bending. Then you can talk to you sister, maybe to your dad too? Stop this useless war, and everyone will be happy!"
Oh, right: and we'll have dances and parties and frolic in the fields like a bunch of hippies. Okay; air-bender happy time over, back to reality.
Not going to happen, Aang.
Trying to bolster himself, Aang looked up.
Zuko had not moved, arms slightly outspread and something close to shock on his face.
"What are you doing, Avat—Aang?"
In his green shirt, Aang thought the fire-prince looked something like an unadorned Christmas-tree, standing like that. With a wipe of eyes on his sleeve, Aang stood back.
"It's called a hug, silly. It's supposed to make you feel better."
"Oh. Huh. Thanks?" fire-benders probably didn't know how to relaxed, but the others stance got less rigid: "For a minute there, I thought I was finally about to witness an offensive air-bending move."
That was an affront. "We were air benders, Zuko! Peace-loving vegetarians? We do not have offensive moves."
But Aang grinned, taking the sting out of his words."Doing good, Zuko. Doing real good; don't sell yourself short, you hear!"
Aang whirled his staff and opened it, turning it into a glider.
Zuko snorted, but stepped back. "I haven't got a clue what I'm supposed to do, and I can't get that relaxing thing to work either."
"That's just you, Zuko. You worry too much." With a giddy laugh, Aang took to air. "What you need is a hobby."
There was a cry, and a scratching sound, but Aang was long gone. For the first time since he had woken up after getting hit by Azula's lightning, the young air-bender actually felt good.