Zuko spent much of the next two days unconscious, with Brighteyes perched on a chair beside the bed. She took her duties very seriously, offering water or broth whenever he seemed awake enough to swallow without choking. Mostly she watched, occasionally reaching out to touch his shoulder when his sleep became restless, or to check his forehead for signs of fever.

Hoshi took care of everything else.

The third morning his brow stayed cool. Hoshi smiled slightly and squeezed Brighteyes' shoulder.

"I won't be long."

"He's going to wake up today. Really wake up."

Hoshi nodded. "If I'm not back before he does-"

"I'll take care of him."

The door slid easily in its tracks, and Brighteyes turned back to her self-appointed vigil.

After a while her head drooped and she leaned to one side. She was only eight, after all, and it was very tiring to watch someone else sleep. Snuggling into the chair, she brought up her knees and rested her head. She would notice if anything changed.

The edges of the world were fuzzy. And warm. Zuko opened his eyes, blinking to chase away the last shreds of dream. He ran his hand over the covers, feeling the roughened skin on his fingers catch against the smooth fabric. There was a mattress under his back, firm but yielding. The ceiling above him boasted a thick exposed beam as the ridgeline.

He remembered the tree, and the girl with the ostrich-horse, and falling on the steps. He remembered the healer with the piercing eyes, before the world dissolved.

She said I was safe.

Safe? You're in an Earth Kingdom village, moron. What do you think they'll do to you?

His breath caught, just a little, and Brighteyes looked up.

It doesn't matter. I can't run anymore. Let them judge me. I don't care.

Zuko swallowed. He wasn't a very convincing liar at the best of times. Sometimes he could manage to fool himself, but that was about it. Right now he couldn't even do that. Whatever he had stumbled into now, there was no way out.

Something moved in the corner of his vision. He reacted without thought, one hand snapping out to avert the perceived threat.

Brighteyes gasped as he grabbed her wrist. It didn't hurt- in fact, there was barely any strength behind the grip- but it caught her off guard. He moved so fast, even flat on his back.

Zuko stared into the girl's eyes. There was nothing hidden in them; she was as transparent as the healing-woman was opaque. After a startled moment her wide green eyes relaxed, and a smile broke over her face.

"You are awake!"

She was unbelievably cheerful, and far more impressed by the development than he was. To be sure, his head was clear, the room didn't feel like it was moving under him and instead of searing agony there was only a dull ache in his ankle. His leg felt oddly heavy, though. Come to think of it, everything felt oddly heavy. He barely noticed the girl's hand slipping from his grasp.

"You don't need to pee, do you?" He shook his head briefly and she smiled again, this time with relief. "Oh, good. I'm not big enough to help you get to the bathroom, and I think you'd probably fall over or something. Do you want me to get Hoshi?"

"Uhn?"

But the girl was already rushing on. "She'll be back in just a minute anyway. She left you some tea. It tastes really bad but it's good for you. I should know. I helped her make it and she gives it to me all the time when I get hurt. You'd better drink it all at once to get it over with, that's what I do, and then you can rinse the taste away with water. Hoshi says you're on liquids only, at least until you get stronger. I wanted to make you soup but Hoshi said not unless she's here, so I guess I have to wait until she gets back. Tea?"

Zuko stared at her. The little girl grabbed the teacup and held it out to make her intentions clear in case he didn't understand and he shook his head. She shrugged and put it back on the table.

"Oh, well. You have to drink it eventually. It tastes even worse when it's cold, but I guess we could make you a new cup. Oh! I could put it on the stove to keep it warm."

Brighteyes jumped out of her seat, grabbed for the cup and knocked it on the floor. The clay cracked against the wood panels and her eyes went wide.

"Drat!" she said clearly, and somehow Zuko knew this was the harshest word she could use to express her frustration. He also knew that it wasn't the first time she had broken something and wondered briefly what disaster might have befallen the house if she were allowed to cook unsupervised.

Azula had left a path of destruction in her wake at that age, but not like this.

Brighteyes whisked away the mess with the same careless enthusiasm that had caused the accident to begin with and then settled back on her chair. She didn't sit, exactly, but rather balanced like a bird prepared to take flight at a moment's notice.

"You've been asleep for two whole days, you know," she informed him in a serious tone. "I guess you needed the sleep. You can tell me if you need something. Hoshi says you probably aren't used to people helping you anymore, but they used to, right?"

Zuko flicked his eyes away for a moment. The little girl didn't seem to stop for breath and alternated between questions and freely offered information without any kind of pattern or forethought. It made him dizzy, trying to keep up. So far he had only been able to determine that "Hoshi" must be the healer and that the green-eyed girl was simultaneously an absolute innocent and a walking disaster. It was an odd combination, but strangely comforting. He often felt like two parts of some mismatched thing instead of a whole person: it was nice to know he wasn't the only freak in the world.

"…You don't mind if I call you Shen, do you? I never use my given name. Nobody does. I'm not sure if they even remember what it is."

"What?"

"My name. Everyone just calls me Brighteyes. That's not what you meant, though, was it?"

Zuko wasn't entirely sure himself at this point.

"It's just a name, anyway."

He regarded her curiously, but she didn't say anything more. Following her gaze, Zuko noticed a table pushed against the wall to his left, holding a fat pillar candle and a battered sheet of paper, creased and dirty. His face fell as he recognized the border that signified an official Fire Nation document.

DammitalltoHELL.

For a moment white hot panic surged through his body, but he didn't have enough energy to sustain that kind of reaction and after a moment the wave crested and broke, leaving residual dread in its wake. He closed his eyes. They would have figured it out soon enough. Unbidden, a memory from some months earlier bubbled to the surface of his mind: Zuko, with Uncle beside him, stammering in (then Commander) Zhao's face to find a suitable cover story for the damage to his ship.

No, it wouldn't have taken them long to figure it out.

Dammit anyway.

Hoshi stood unnoticed in the doorway. Silently, the old healer slid the door closed behind her and surveyed the room, not at all surprised to find the bedside table empty and a smear of dark liquid on the floor.

She cleared her throat and Brighteyes whirled around.

"Hoshi, Hoshi, Shen's awake! Can I make soup now?"

Hoshi nodded. It was unlikely there would be further mishaps now that the nervous energy building in the girl had been released. Brighteyes launched off the chair, landing easily on her feet (although the chair itself fell over) and disappeared into the back of the house.

Zuko flinched slightly at the clatter of wood against wood, but didn't say anything. Hoshi righted the chair briskly and prepared a new dose, noting but not openly acknowledging the wariness in the boy's eyes.

She knew that look. It was the face of someone betrayed too deeply to risk trusting a fellow member of the human race without ironclad proof of intentions. She had no way to make him set aside that instinctual caution, so she didn't try. There would be time for that later.

Setting the teacup on the table to steep, she rubbed her hands to chase away the lingering morning chill. The only thing less welcome than unasked for physical contact was unasked for physical contact with cold hands.

"Let's give you a view of something besides the ceiling, hmm?"

Zuko didn't have time to react as she reached behind his torso and leaned him forward against her shoulder. She fiddled with something on the side of the bed and then half of it groaned upward, ratcheting along a series of grooves until it reached a gentle incline. As Hoshi settled him again he caught her eyes and didn't let go.

"You know who I am."

"Not that it makes a difference, yes."

"What do you mean, "not that it makes a difference"?" he asked heatedly, leaning forward slightly and then instantly regretting it.

Hoshi placed her hand against his shoulder and gently pressed him back. She had never been particularly gentle with her bedside manner- honesty, she felt, was the greatest kindness in all but very few circumstances- but even that slight tact seemed to have worn away.

"Zuko," she started, and felt him stiffen, "I'm a healer. A very highly trained healer from an order with very strict rules concerning how and when to offer my services. Specifically, whenever they are required, to whoever requires them. You are not my first Fire Nation patient. Now, I know you have less than no reason to trust anything I say. I'm going to tell you the truth anyway, and you can believe me or not as you like. All right?"

It was safest to nod so he did.

Hoshi pulled back her hand, smiling slightly. "Good. Drink this."

The tea was every bit as horrible as the girl made it sound, thick and bitter with a cloying aftertaste that lingered in the back of his throat. He didn't want to know what it was. He never wanted to know what went into the various remedies healers used.

"Now that that's out of the way, how do you feel?"

It was typical healer question. They were required to ask it, he supposed. He had a variety of answers. Weak. Helpless. Pathetic.

"Tired," he said.

"I expect so. How on earth did you find us all the way out here?"

"I didn't mean to."

"I'm sure you didn't."

Zuko let his head fall to the side, resting on the curl of paper there. Hoshi followed his gaze.

"May I ask why you kept it?"

Unspoken, but still present, was the admonition that it was a stupid thing to have done, as it guaranteed identification, and therefore danger. Why had he taken it?

"It's…proof."

Hoshi's eyebrows rose. Proof of what?

Zuko looked up into her face and read the question there before she could erase it.

"Uncle," he said simply.

Hoshi nodded. "You were separated."

Zuko made a non-committal noise and looked away again. It hadn't been a question, exactly, so he didn't have to answer. He didn't want to answer questions, right now. He had enough of his own without worrying about anyone else's. Besides, in all likelihood she'd just be repeating Katara, and Zuko still wouldn't be able to satisfy those inquiries any better now than he could before.

"What-" he started, but the question froze in his throat. What are you going to do to me? He swallowed and tried again. "What- happens now?"

Hoshi heard both questions (few things escaped her notice and obvious but unasked questions were not one of them) and therefore answered both questions.

"Now, Zuko, I'm going to help you get better."

***

Iroh was discovering the thrill of riding through the sky on a giant fuzzy beast. He had not been in a position to appreciate his first flight, and had been making up for it since. Closing his eyes, he breathed deeply through his nose and then exhaled slowly.

When he opened his eyes the world fell away below him in vast sweeps of green treetops and exposed rock formations. He had seen a great many things in his life, but there was nothing he could compare directly to the sensation. It was partly like standing on a vista and overlooking the world sweeping away beneath his feet, and partly like standing at the prow of a ship as it cut the water, and not at all like either.

It was marvelously relaxing. His frame no longer supported quite as much mass (he wondered idly if Jun would insist on matching his previous weight in gold should he run across her again) and while he had grown accustomed to using his pack as a pillow he couldn't resist reveling in the soft cushion formed at the back of the saddle by the heap of sleeping bags and varied supplies.

Toph lounged next to him. Unknown to her, and unnoticed (as yet) by other members of the party, she had chosen the same "quarter" of the saddle Sokka had used to secure Zuko.

Katara was sitting "backwards" near the curl at the front of the saddle with her knees to one side and Iroh's pack next to her. She was carefully mending his robe with tiny precise stitches, mindful of the bungled sutures in Zuko's back and skeptical that the old man's sewing had improved in the meantime.

Aang was balanced on that front curled edge of the saddle, staring off into the distance and wondering how long he needed to wait before it wouldn't seem rude to ask Iroh if he would teach him Firebending. Being polite was not his only concern; he'd messed up badly with Jeong Jeong and he knew it.

Sokka was "driving", and his thoughts had less to do with specific members of the Fire Nation and more to do with choosing a course that would not land them in hot water when he had only a vague idea where they were.

He was also preoccupied with hiding his last bag of seal jerky from Momo. He had carefully hidden it and forgotten the fact until the inquisitive lemur uncovered it the previous day. Now Momo seemed to think it was his, despite the fact that he could eat just about anything (and frequently did) while the humans had far narrower options for their diet.

"Shoo. Go catch bugs or something, you're good at that."

Momo's ears flattened at Sokka's tone and he crept away. Aang caught him up absently and stroked his head, setting the lemur purring, all thoughts of food momentarily forgotten.

***

Zuko mostly ignored the healer's ministrations. He'd been injured before, after all. He knew the drill. Lie mostly still, move when told, don't scratch at the bandages. That last one might actually be a problem, given that his feet had decided they preferred to let him know they were healing by itching like mad. Especially between the toes.

Hoshi kept her face carefully professional, reserving her opinion until she had finished. The wound on Zuko's left ankle was still raw and obviously painful, but a much healthier color. She carefully bathed the affected area, slathered it with salve, and replaced the bandage.

"How bad is it?"

Hoshi settled the covers before meeting his gaze.

"The infection is receding. Until the surface wound has healed I won't know how the joint itself had been affected."

Zuko swallowed. However disfiguring the scar on his face might be, it didn't change what he was capable of doing. When his ankle healed he could always hide the scar, but would he have to hide a limp as well?

Hoshi smiled gently and laid her hand on his shoulder.

"You aren't a cripple yet, boy. Although I would recommend you don't put unnecessary pressure on that leg."

Zuko nodded shortly.

Some time (and lots of soup) later he wondered if perhaps she had been trying to cheer him up with that statement, as his left leg didn't seem capable of supporting even the slightest weight, forcing him to lean heavily on her shoulder.

He noted absently that Hoshi had an awfully nice bathroom for a random healer in the middle of nowhere (actually, now that he thought about it, she had an awfully nice house), but his thoughts on the subject were cut short by the flash of a silvered reflection as he hobbled back down the hall- assisted, of course, by the sturdy old woman.

The mirror was placed strategically to improve positive energy (Hoshi knew her Feng Shui) but the old woman kicked herself mentally for forgetting the thing. She closed her eyes briefly as Zuko went rigid.

Shen, he thought, the little girl's comment finally coming together. Not the common name, because he certainly wasn't cautious, or particularly deep.

"You don't mind if I call you Ghost, do you?"

"I look like a corpse," he murmured.

Hoshi squeezed his hand a little and gently led him past.

"I can fix that, you know."

***

"So, mighty dragon, you sticking with us or what?"

Iroh's bushy eyebrow flew up and he turned to regard his neighbor with surprise.

"You want me to stay?"

So far, Iroh had been relegated to the role of "Katara's patient who is also kind of an important person in his own right and helped us so we can't just abandon him in the middle of nowhere", but this was the first anyone had mentioned more than that.

Toph's forehead furrowed. "You have a reason not too?"

"I thought you might be mad at me," he confessed.

She grinned broadly. "Nah. I just like to keep people on their toes."

Katara stopped mending and looked up.

"Why would Toph be mad at you?"

Toph flicked something off her finger and over the edge of the saddle.

"Because of who he was. Actually, I'm kind of impressed. Ba Sing Se is supposed to be impregnable, you know."

Sokka abandoned his post and scrambled into the saddle.

"What's this about cities being pregnant?"

Katara groaned.

"Your friend meant that the City of Ba Sing Se is known for its defenses. The outer wall has stood for centuries."

"Most of it, anyway," Toph corrected. "Iroh put a big crack in it a couple of years ago, when he was in charge of the Fire Nation's forward military advancement."

Sokka quirked an eyebrow. "Do tell."

Before Iroh could even begin to form an answer Toph saved him again, ticking off points on her fingers.

"Well, let's see. He was the heir apparent and a highly decorated general, it's not really surprising he was picked for the job."

"You seem very well informed, my dear."

Toph shrugged. "Hey, just because I'm blind doesn't mean I'm stupid. People talk, you know? It's not my fault they don't realize I'm listening. Only thing I never understood, though, is why a man with the guts and patience to hold siege for six hundred days straight would pack up just when it started to pay off."

Sokka stared at the old man.

"You spent nearly two years breaking down a wall and after you did you just gave up?"

"No. I spent nearly two years breaking down a wall and then discovered I had maneuvered my forces into a bottleneck charge against an army with a distinct territorial advantage. I lost an unholy percentage of my soldiers… including my son."

No one said anything for a while after that.

Finally, Sokka slumped against the saddle wall and shook his head. "Man that sucks."

Katara blinked away a stray tear. She really was awfully emotional this week, which meant the next week would probably be hell. Sometimes she really hated being a girl.

"I guess we really don't know that much about the Fire Nation. Is that why-" she swallowed, but then pressed on "is that why you were-"

"Passed over in favor of my brother? I cannot say. But it is why I did not contest his claim. I have no desire for that throne." I have enough blood on my hands already.

Katara nodded. Then her mouth opened slightly and her eyes brightened.

"You're Zuko's Master, though- right?"

"I assumed responsibility for most of my nephew's training, yes. There were certain…responsibilities…to his position that no one else could teach him."

Sokka glared the old man, suspicions forming in his mind. "Wait. Just wait. You're trying to tell us, that because you had been the crown prince, the Firelord let you teach Zuko how to be the crown prince."

Iroh nodded.

"Only you didn't want him to end up like his father, right?" Aang broke in.

Iroh smiled, a bit sadly.

"My brother wanted the power his position has given him but I do not think he was truly prepared for it. I simply thought it best to give my nephew a-wider perception of the world- since it followed that if my brother succeeded in his ambitions Zuko would inherit a great deal more than just the Fire Nation."

"And then he opened his mouth and blew it." Toph sounded almost impressed by this. Then again, she could relate to that kind of stubbornness.

Iroh winced. "I should have realized the timing was wrong."

"It snowballed," Katara murmured.

"I'm sorry, my dear?

"Oh, nothing. I was just thinking, it wasn't really big, I mean, what Zuko did could have been smoothed over, but it wasn't. One little mistake led to another little mistake and they stuck together. You've never made a snowman, have you?"

The old man laughed. "It doesn't get cold enough in the Fire Nation for that, but I have seen them in my travels."

"Well, if you're careful like me, you build it up gradually. But if you're impatient," her eyes flicked toward her brother, "you make a smallish snowball at the top of a hill and then push. As it rolls down the hill it picks up more snow and gets bigger. It also makes a really ugly, lopsided snowman."

"Hey. That was Bato's idea. And it worked pretty well, except for the lopsided part. Besides, you're a Waterbender and-"

Toph nudged him none too gently with a dirty foot.

"I'm sure you have all sorts of fascinating stories about the lands of snow and ice, but we are way off topic."

Sokka shook his head, face screwed up to one side. "Yeah, sorry, but I'm not seeing this whole "Zuko is the benevolent master of the world" vision. Especially since he got kicked out of favor and all that."

Iroh shrugged. "I have to admit, I was hoping my brother would cool down and change his mind." His forehead wrinkled. "Not that he ever does. I have never known him to regret anything. But- I stayed with Zuko."

"And helped him chase Aang!" Sokka protested.

Iroh pulled a wry face. "Yes, well, I must admit I wasn't expecting your young friend's reemergence to the grand arena."

Privately he wondered if that had been an oversight on his part, or if the spirits had deliberately left him in the dark. They had their own agenda, after all, and it was not always kind, or comprehensible, to mere mortals.

Toph sighed theatrically. "Not that. I meant whether or not Iroh is staying with us."

Sokka blinked. They really were off topic.

"Oh, right."

He turned to Aang expectantly.

Aang swallowed nervously. "Well, actually, I was kind of wondering, if, you know, if youcouldteachmeFirebending."

Iroh had anticipated the question, it had been written all over the boy's face for days. He had considered his answer very carefully.

"It would be my honor" he began, and held up a finger as Aang's eyes brightened, "but I am afraid I must decline."

***

Hoshi was not a difficult person to understand, really. She was blunt, solid and unyielding- qualities expected in an Earthbender, perhaps, but slightly less so in a member of the medical profession. Within the space of several hours Zuko ascertained that despite her apparent age her mind possessed the qualities of a steel trap and her every action expressed a kind of efficiency which would put the supreme technical engineers of the War Ministry to shame. Forced to choose a single word to describe her, Zuko would choose "competent", with the added caveat that rather then the word describing her, she was describing it.

She absolutely terrified him.

To make matters worse, she never gave the slightest indication of anything but complete sincerity (other than being female, it was her only common factor with Brighteyes) and that obviously genuine concern only scared him more.

This wasn't how things were supposed to work.

Not that he wanted to be hated. However laughable it might seem to those familiar with the scarred teen only as an inexorable foe (or a sullen prisoner), at heart he was pathetically eager to please.

For the last five years he had been trying to please his father, and failing miserably for three. Trying to "capture the Avatar" was the ultimate form of groveling, attempted after the more usual form had quite literally blown up in his face. Begging for mercy on his knees had only made things worse- no way was he ever doing that again.

Still, it was almost reassuring to discover than far from an otherworldly paradise of unquestionably welcoming saints, the other villagers seemed rather put out by Hoshi's easy acceptance.

As evidenced by the conversation in the other room.

Hoshi's house was separated by sliding walls, partitioned into a "living area" in the back and "clinic" in the front with a kind of woodstove in the middle. It heated the front half and served as a cooking center for the kitchen in addition to heating the back half. The design was purpose built and obviously not removable- the metal butted flush around the mantle on both sides.

Zuko hadn't commented when Hoshi set him up in the back part of the house. It was medically sound not to move him until she had a better fix on his condition, and now that she knew how he was doing it only made sense to minimize the distance traveled between patient, healer, and food. He was practically sleeping in the kitchen now. Closer to the bathroom, too. Not a bad arrangement.

Especially since the change not only kept him conveniently close to constant refills of broth, but had also removed him from the prying eyes of anyone who happened to open the front door. Such as the villager currently occupying the clinic on the other side of the wall.

Brighteyes didn't have a whole lot of patience with teenage boys in general. They were big and loud and smelly and thought rather highly of themselves despite a distinct lack of anything particularly worth bragging about. Under "ordinary" circumstances she would have felt the same way about Zuko, but considering he had walked all the way up the mountainside practically dead he actually did have something worth bragging about.

The fact that he was Fire Nation and nominally an enemy made little impression on her. The fact that he came from somewhere far away and probably knew all sorts of things she'd never even heard of was irresistibly fascinating. Besides, he didn't dismiss her as "just a little girl".

The boy slouching over the back of her chair was the worst of the lot. His name was Hong, which she knew meant "vast", but while he possessed the frame of a larger man he had yet to grow into it and at present the only thing vast about him was the army of angry red pimples entrenched on his forehead and cheeks and, well, everywhere.

Brighteyes called him Craterface, and he was currently proving himself quite the hypocrite. She had yet to shut him up, and he was getting on her nerves.

"I can't believe you're actually nice to that scarred freak."

"He can't help the way he looks." Then she added sharply, "Unlike you. He got hurt, but you're going to be ugly because you're too stupid to wash your face on a daily basis or quit picking your festering zits with dirty, greasy, fingers. If you did what we said and used the medicine like you're s'possed to they'd clear up, but no, that's just too easy."

The boy drew breath for a retort but she didn't give him time to use it.

"Outta my house, you big turkey-goose," she ordered, pointing imperiously toward the door. He rolled his eyes.

"I said OUT!"

And she reached for the broom.

Hong fled, slamming the door behind him.

Brighteyes was still holding the broom defensively when she entered the kitchen, but there was an air of satisfaction about her. Exasperated satisfaction, but still.

Zuko took this in at a glance and blinked.

What on earth?

Brighteyes tucked the broom in a corner and blew her hair out of her eyes. It fell back in her face. Hands on her hips, the little girl shook her head and remarked to the world at large, "He is such a poo-head. Honestly."

After a moment, Zuko began to laugh. He couldn't help it.

Here he was, all but flat on his back, dosed to the gills, covered in herbal poultices of varying color and scent (some pleasant, some not, but all strong), and he was championed by a broom-wielding mountain peasant with the grace of a lame Komodo-rhino who thought "poo-head" was the ultimate insult devised by human language.

"What's so funny?" she demanded, and Zuko fought for control.

"Nothing," he wheezed, scrubbing at his good eye with the heel of his hand.

"You're my hero."

She beamed.

***

"What do you mean, you must decline!"

Iroh sighed and folded his hands over his stomach. In some ways, it seemed, the young Airbender and his nephew were very similar.

"I have to learn Firebending. I have to! I tried learning before with Master Jeong Jeong and it went all wrong but that was because I didn't know Waterbending very well or any Earthbending at all. I understand I have to learn the elements in order, and I am! I'm training my arrow off with Katara and Toph- Where am I supposed to find someone to teach me if you won't, huh? All the other Firebenders in the whole world are out to get me!"

"Master Jeong Jeong? He was a very close friend of mine, you know, but I haven't seen him for some time…"

"Don't change the subject!"

Yes, they were very similar indeed. Drawing a deep breath, Iroh regarded the young Airbender evenly. Aang swallowed and subsided.

"I know that you are far too young to carry the weight of the world, Avatar or not. I know that you are trying as hard as you can, and I know before you can attempt to balance the world you must first balance yourself. To accomplish this, you must learn to tame fire. But not yet."

"Why not?"

"You have only just begun Earthbending, for one thing."

"Yeah, but you could stay with us until I'm ready…"

Iroh shook his head.

"He has to find Zuko first," Katara hazarded.

"It is a prior obligation. Also, I am not certain I am meant to be your teacher, as flattering as the offer may be. I understand Toph was not your initial pick for Earthbending Master."

Aang ignored Toph's expression as best he could. "Bumi suggested her though, sort of. It was supposed to be her all along- but I guess that's your point, isn't it… What am I supposed to do if the time comes to learn Firebending and I can't find anyone to teach me?"

Iroh laid his hand on the young Avatar's arm.

"I am certain that when the time comes, you will have a teacher. It may be me, or it may not. However things end up, I am certain our paths will cross again."

"I feel really weird even suggesting this," Sokka broke in, "but maybe we should just stick together for the time being. We don't really have a destination in mind right now anyway. We were trying to find an Earthbending teacher and we did, but then we had to run from the dangerous ladies. There's really no reason we can't combine evasive maneuvers with Uncle Teapot's search for Prince Ponytail. No offense."

Iroh raised and eyebrow. Uncle Teapot was actually a rather fitting description…

"Sokka." Katara's eyebrow twitched and the corners of her mouth were tight. "We've gone over this already. Zuko doesn't have a ponytail anymore, Chief Arnook cut it off."

"Oh yeah."

Iroh raised his eyebrows. That was a detail he hadn't heard before.

"You two had better not start fighting again," Toph broke in. "You didn't explain last time it came up, and something tells me you really ought to spill."

She pointed one grubby finger in Iroh's general direction and Sokka turned pink.

"Right. Um. Well. I guess we should start at the beginning."

"Please do."

***

Hoshi hummed to herself as she worked. Brighteyes had finally slept in her own bed again, instead of slumped in a chair. Zuko still looked terrible, but despite her misgivings that he would be able to handle solid food the soup was staying down and the boy's appetite was healthy. It was the only thing healthy about him, but progress was progress and his chances for complete recovery had improved markedly in only four days.

It really was remarkable what the human body could endure. It was such a fragile form, so easily broken or torn, but amazingly resilient at the same time.

"Your neighbors don't seem too happy about me being here."

Every time the boy spoke she expected his voice to sound different. Less…raw. She thought at first it was a symptom, indicative of sickness or thirst or disuse, but she'd given him enough tea, medicinal and otherwise, with enough honey to make the spoon stand up, to disprove that theory. Hoshi was rather found of honey. It had a number of medical uses, but unlike many of her other remedies it was actually pleasant.

It was a pain to harvest, though.

"My neighbors have learned to leave me alone if they know what's best for them."

His remaining eyebrow rose. The scar made reading some of his expressions a bit of a challenge, but she was learning. Smiling slightly, she switched out a steaming bowl for an empty one.

"Tell me if it gets cold before you want it."

"I can heat it up again myself, you know."

He was testing boundaries again, pushing to see her reactions. Waiting for the mask to crumble and swift retribution to fall on his defenseless form. Every time he did, it increased her desire to hunt down those responsible for killing the boy's faith in people. She had very specific plans for the culprits. Honey was good for more than sweetening tea, especially coupled with a convenient anthill and a length of rope.

"I know. Don't. You have little enough energy to spare without wasting it."

Zuko shrugged, seemingly unconcerned by that vulnerability.

Hoshi had been trained to see through what "seemed", and she knew the veneer of control he wore like a second skin had been worn away until it was thin as paper and as easily split. One wrong word, one wrong move, and it would crack like an egg.

At least he trusted the girl.

There were hints, still, of the kind of person he had been: willful, proud, and reluctant to accept the advice of his elders. Typical enough for a boy of sixteen, prince or not. There were also hints of rigid militaristic indoctrination, not so typical for an ordinary teen but familiar from the scores of soldiers Hoshi had treated over her long and varied career.

Hoshi tidied the kitchen and then sat down on the edge of Zuko's mattress.

"I said I wouldn't lie to you, so I won't. There is some...unease concerning your unexpected arrival. Personally I don't know why- if anyone was chasing you on either side they would have caught you long before you made it all the way up here. You can't have made especially rapid progress. Besides that, there's nothing here worth taking, at least nothing the Fire Nation would consider worth the effort."

"Those are threats from other people, not me. How-"

"Do I know I can trust you?" she finished. "I'm a deadly judge of character, Zuko. If you were a monster I'd notice. Besides, you aren't much of a threat like this. You can't even walk without help."

She kept her tone soft to lessen the sting of her words. The Fire Nation placed great emphasis on strength of will coupled with physical prowess. She wouldn't be at all surprised if the young prince, denied the option of appearing esthetically pleasing to others, had simply focused all his energy on ensuring his body would stand any strain he put on it.. No doubt turning himself into a living weapon was a large factor toward why he hadn't simply died of exposure, but it was also a distressing symptom of the larger injury.

"So, everyone will just leave me alone because they're afraid of you."

"Not quite. Elder Haku would like to speak with you, when you're feeling up to it." She laid her hand on his arm, and sure enough though his face remained passive his body tensed at the possible threat.

"He doesn't trust your judgment?"

"He does, but he also has to answer to the entire village."

"Right."

"It's nothing to worry about."

Zuko nodded absently and barely noticed when she left.

She hadn't said what the Elder wanted to talk about, but even if he wasn't considered particularly clever (especially compared to his sister and people always compared him to his sister) Zuko understood enough about the delicate play of "politics" to read between the lines. Unless he was distracted, but right now there was nothing to distract him from ugly realities.

The Elder held power, but it was power granted by the people, like a Mayor or something. The villagers, excepting of course Hoshi and Brighteyes, didn't want him here.

Zuko turned his head and studied the wall. His body was still, but under that deceptive calm alarms went off in every center of his brain. He was bloody helpless, and he knew it, but he also hated waiting. What was point of taking Hoshi's medicines if-

Dammit. That was the worst part. He didn't know what they wanted. He didn't know what they would do. It was the same damn waiting game they'd put him through back at the North Pole. Hoshi didn't mean to, of course. The Avatar and his friends probably hadn't meant to either- they weren't cruel, just thoughtless.

He wasn't going to wait around this time. He couldn't.

When Hoshi came back the bowl was empty.

The bowl, and the bed.

For one crystalline moment she forgot all her training, forgot that she was a respected healer from an esteemed order, forgot that she was an old woman raising a young child and therefore a role model, and swore with the fury and ease of a fishwife.

***

They were flying again. Sokka didn't want to risk tiring Appa needlessly, but they also couldn't risk staying on the ground. They moved far too slowly for comfort that way.

"Might I ask where you intend to go next?"

Sokka handed over the map only a little grudgingly. He didn't want to like the old man, but he didn't really have a lot to hold against him, after all.

Iroh's eyes widened, and Sokka gave a sheepish sort of grin.

"It's not a very accurate map, but I'm pretty sure we're somewhere over here," he said, indicating their present course with his finger.

Iroh laid another finger on the parchment, far to the north.

"Fong's base is there."

Sokka frowned at the distance.

"He wouldn't have stayed in the area and risked capture," Iroh mused.

"Zuko's not that dumb," Sokka agreed. "Still, it leaves an awful lot of places he could have disappeared to, and with Princess Crazy-pants following us…" Sokka's voice trailed off to let Iroh draw the obvious conclusion.

"Oh, I'm not suggesting we cross her path anytime soon, my boy." Iroh touched his shoulder ruefully. "Not without a more definitive heading, at any rate."

He thought for a moment, eyes narrowed in speculation. Then he placed his finger on the map a little further to the north and west than their current location.

"Would it inconvenience you to go here?"

Sokka peered at the illustration, a circular wall surrounding a white ice formation and two odd-looking trees.

"The Misty Palms Oasis," he read.

Katara looked up.

"That sounds refreshing."

Aang poked his head over the saddle. "Oh yeah, I've been there. It's a pristine natural ice spring, and I usually don't use the word pristine. It's one of nature's wonders."

Iroh smiled gently at the boy's enthusiasm.

"It may have changed since you were last there. Few places remain untouched by the war."

Aang dimmed a little. "Oh, right." Then he brightened up again. "But as long as we're going in that direction, there's a stop I'd like to make along the way."

Toph nudged him with her elbow. "Oh, really? What's there, Twinkletoes?"

Aang just grinned. "I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise." Toph probably wouldn't appreciate an ice spring anyway, but she'd absolutely love the singing prairie dogs.

"I guess that's settled then."

Sokka rolled up the map and put it away.

"Set our heading west-northwest," he commanded.

"Aye aye, Cap'n", Aang replied, settling back into his usual "steering" spot on Appa's head.

Sokka turned to look at Iroh.

"Soooo. Why are we going to some random place near a desert to try and find Angry Jerk?"

Iroh let the insult slide.

"There's someone at the Oasis I need to speak with."

"Yeah? Who?"

Iroh settled back. Momentarily surprised by a bony head and wet nose, he relaxed and stroked his hand over the inquisitive lemur. Momo arched his back and then curled up under Iroh's hand and began purring contentedly.

"A friend", he replied.

***

Elder Haku was not expecting visitors.

However, as head of an entire village he often received visitors when he was least expecting them, so when he heard the knock he set down his cup, straightened his clothes, and made his way to the front door to see who was there and what they wanted.

It wouldn't be Hoshi, he knew. She had come by the previous evening to inform him that the Fire Nation prince was recovering slowly and maybe Haku could come by in a week or so when she'd gotten some food in him and he didn't need to stay in bed. Logically, then, he also knew it wouldn't be the invalid teen.

Haku slid back the door and swallowed to prevent his jaw from hitting the floor.

A pale, gaunt face stared back, one gold eye wide in apprehension, the other permanently slitted within ridges of scar.