Life was a quiet affair.
It plodded obediently along like an ostrich-horse on a lead. Zuko's own trudged behind him, the occasional tautening of the rope in his hand being the only reminder of its existence.
Dusty merchants and worn out travelers marched through the market street, where frayed awnings flanked either side, shading the goods on sale. Hungry looking salesmen eyed the flowing crowd, barking out offers and holding their wares up to the sky.
The sun beat down. The desert wind blew brittle and lazy.
His eyepatch dug into his skin. He'd taken to wearing the patch when he'd found himself in a roaring port town off the south coast, where there were too many well traveled eyes and knowing minds. It was a small part of a disguise, but the black cloth brought no more attention than the scar itself, and at the very least, it covered up one golden eye that he could be recognized by. Besides, the sight in that eye had long since flickered out.
A merchant scowled at him. He turned away. Life was oftentimes tense, yes, but always quiet. Tense and horribly depressing, but always quiet.
He tuned into local gossip as he walked. He heard of rising taxes and falling prices, infighting within the government. Some wisps of the Avatar braved the public range. And of course, news of the robberies, the raids and the riots that carved a line straight through the empire. The stories of the latest attack chased him wherever he went.
Zuko smiled placidly. Day life was a quiet thing. Night life was a different ordeal entirely. The gossip almost convinced him that he had done something of value in those last few years. In the grand scheme of things though, it likely meant nothing.
He grew tired of the crowd and slinked into the nearest tavern, where he buys the cheapest beverage and waits out the midday heat. Tucked away in the corner, a gray haired woman sits across a Pai Sho board, awaiting an opponent. The lotus tile he'd bought weeks ago seemed to burn in his pocket.
He stayed planted on his stool. Here's your chance, his mind hissed, you can't wait it out forever. You've done what you could these last two years, but the Fire Nation's pushing back and the Avatar has been less than helpful. Reconnect, try again, maybe they'll forgive you, maybe they won't, but you have nothing left to lose.
Nothing left to lose. He mused.
But, no. His fate, as it turned out to be, was to fail, act as a middleman and then leave the earth to rumble and the ice to flame. Whatever happened would happen without him. It had been his choice to leave the narrative. Entering it again would not be his decision.
You might find Uncle again. It whispered. His hand ghosted itself over his pocket, until a red bolt of anger shot through his veins. You don't deserve the chance.
He burst back into the street, untied his ostrich-horse and paced through the marketplace until his nerves gentled. Noon had long since fallen by then. The crowds grew as the heat gathered itself up and moved along to find another village to fry. Zuko didn't need the extra eyes on him, so he slid into the first alleyway he could find.
Chalk graffiti plastered the walls, all fresh and vibrant, as the guards cleaned them off too soon for any to grow old. The usual array spread across the alley: Earth Kingdom symbols, faction emblems, call to arms and battle cries, various renderings of the Avatar and some unflattering caricatures of various Fire Nation leaders. A little higher up, he even noticed the image of the Blue Spirit. It seemed to cut into the stone.
In his bag, the mask seemed to grow heavier. Where would he be off to tonight? The command center he'd seen that morning, maybe burn down the storage? Or just some common havoc, facing off the night patrols?
Another part of his mind strayed. Perhaps this will be the night he gets caught, perhaps tonight was the night the world would throw him to the ground and say "You have done enough. You cannot be forgiven, but you have done enough."
He would usually give himself a slap on the wrist for thinking like that, but tonight he can't find the energy. The blue grin on the wall beckoned him forward. Would this be his legacy? Did fate toss him around and keep him alive that day for this? And in the end, had he done enough?
No. He could answer that last one himself. A few months of stirring up chaos could never outweigh a lifetime of failure and betrayal.
The streets had died down, and silence hummed in his ears. Before he headed out into the night, he took one last glance at the impressions wall. Something caught his eye.
On either side of mask was the green-gold sun of the rebellion and the cold, curling black elemental symbol of fire. Zuko tensed. He backed himself against the wall and unsheathed his dao. The Blue Spirit stared down at him, caught in a laugh, as if it enjoyed Zuko being on the other side of the mask for once.
And then the earth trembled at his feet and spit out a man cloaked in proud green garb and a messenger's badge. He took one glance at him, pressed his lips into a thin line and dropped a leather bound scroll at his feet. Then without a word, he left.
Zuko read the scroll underneath the growing twilight and the blue mask's grin. The wind whistled gentle carols through that quiet night as he huddled in that alleyway, waiting for the sun to rise, and he wondered if life would ever be that quiet again.
He rode into Tu Zin atop an ostrich-horse with the sun beating across his back and a crosswind at his feet. In the evening light, he could make out two silhouettes lazing around on a broken down porch.
He unmounted from his steed, and Toph and the Avatar stood to meet him. She wore her dented armor as always, one arm wrapped in a sling. Stood besides her, the Avatar wore plain clothes of gray and brown, a pack slung across his shoulder and a walking stick in one hand.
"I guess you got my message." She smiled, not happy to see him, just amused at the situation as a whole.
He eyed her under his broad brimmed hat. There were a hundred things to say to her, half of them apologies, but he could see in her eyes that it would be best if this meeting came and went without becoming personal. He cast his eyes aside. "Why me?"
She gave a snort. "Because it's time for Aang over here to get out of that hellhole."
A beat skipped in his heart. "...Is the underground-"
"That's my problem to worry about. Yours is right here." She pushed the boy forward, who nodded to him stiffly. He looked gaunt and pale, as if he'd spent the last few weeks in a jail cell.
"Now I say that," Toph eyed him again, unsettlingly, "but I better see your head on a stick before I see this kid get caught."
A rogue smile broke on his lips. "I think I'd cut it off myself if it came to it."
Toph's smirk twitched. What a beautiful mess we're in, it seemed to say. Let's smile through it, lest we'd break apart.
They might have stood like that forever, lost in the meaningless shambles that they'd created and fate had left them in, had it not been for the last airbender standing between them.
He turned back to Toph, who snapped out of the stupor and looked back at him with a gentler, truer smile. He fiddled with the ostrich-horse's reins as the two exchanged words and gave their last goodbyes. Then Toph unhinged the jaw of the earth and disappeared down its throat, leaving the two to their own devices.
He faced the Avatar and held out his hand. "Zuko."
The boy took his hand, and shook. "Aang."
"We've met." He blanked.
"Yeah." The boy doesn't meet his eyes. "I've heard a lot."
A shock ran through his system. Under his calm, a river of memories suddenly burst through his body, sapping his strength and sending aches through his spine. The past barreled in front of his eyes; burning swaths and battlefields riddled with the fallen, great landmarks toppling and flags being raised, long dead smiles and warm fires.
He swallowed hard. "There's a lot to hear."
AN: I realize the correct idiom would be Dark (Ostrich)Horse but like? It doesn't ring with me, and I'm not going to use the same joke twice. This chapter's a little lacking, but it is just a bridging chapter between the behemoth that was Whistling in the Dark and the soon to come, much awaited, not yet titled Zuko Backstory chapter.
And if you guys ever needed a song to listen besides this story, may I recommend 'Things we Lost in the Fire' by Bastille? Perhaps 'Lost on You' by LP? Lots of losing stuff in this story, yes. 'Some Nights' by F.U.N if you want to go with more of a rebellion mood. Hell, throw any songs you want at me and I'll give them a listen!