Chapter 13: Seeds of Success
Azula was standing in the courtyard garden of the Fire Nation palace, the heat of the summer sun on her face and hands. Mother was kneeling by the plants — so undignified, so unbecoming of a woman in her position — and she turned to Azula, showing her a vibrant, red flower. Brown crumbles of dirt and stem streaked all across her palm.
"A fire lily," Mother had said. "Isn't it lovely?"
Azula scoffed. It wasn't anything special. How could it be deemed lovely when it was so repulsive, with particles of dirt hanging every which way? How could it be lovely when it served no valuable function? Lovely. It needed to be pruned. "How did all those filthy strings get there?" Azula asked critically.
"Those are the roots," Mother explained. "They grow out of the seed to —"
"They look disgusting."
"The roots give the flower support and nourishment." Mother was smiling, glowing in the broad sunlight like a ghost. She set the flower — dirty and dusted and grimy — behind Azula's ear, tucking it there with Azula's perfectly combed hair. Mother didn't seem bothered by the filth; why didn't it bother her? What was wrong with that woman? She set her hand on Azula's head and stroked her hair — a half-forgotten, foreign gesture of fondness. It meant so much when it should have meant nothing at all. "They are essential for its survival."
Azula could just feel the soil in her hair, practically crawling to her scalp; she hastened to snatch the flower from behind her ear.
"Don't do that!" Azula had snapped, the dirty plant now in her fist.
"Oh, Azula…"
Mother's eyes were soft and reproving as Azula crumpled the flower, particles of earth crumbling to the ground, crumbling into dust, along with any positive feelings that Mother might have felt toward her. All of it, fading into nothingness. It might have never even been there in the first place. The fire lily was gone, no roots to speak of anymore. Things were growing darker, everything was blowing away with the escalating summer breeze, a hurricane of rejection and sorrow and loneliness … her hands were disintegrating into particles, the blackness had swept her off her feet and swallowed her whole, with not a single root to ground her…
Azula woke up.
She sat up right away, vaguely unsettled. Her mouth felt dry. It was only a distant memory, only a weird dream. It had been years since… This should have no further impact on her. Oh, well. It was inconsequential at the time, and it was inconsequential now. The sun was coming up, and there were things to do today. Today, they would find June. They had been to eight taverns, half of the marked places on the eastern Earth Kingdom. Today had to be the day.
Azula rubbed her face as she glanced over toward the place where she knew Zuko had slept, to see if he had risen yet.
Zuko was sitting up in the center of his blanket, his legs crisscrossed together like he had just meditated. The map scroll was open across his lap, and his brow was furrowed as he studied it. Shadows appeared to line the space under and around his eyes. Nothing out of the ordinary. She wondered if she had weariness so thoroughly painted on her face like that. She hoped not.
Azula got to her feet, bending an arm behind her head in order to stretch. The motion drew her brother's momentary gaze.
"Hey," Zuko muttered, returning his attention right away to the paper before him.
"Good morning," Azula said pointedly. She stood in place and began her morning stretches as Zuko continued to examine the map. She could recall almost exactly what the series of blue markings looked like. Sixteen taverns identified in total, and eight taverns visited already. So, there were only eight low places that remained to visit. Maybe even less! If June had been at that last tavern just a few nights ago, then she couldn't have traveled too far from them by now, right? They were closer than ever to success.
Azula completed her stretches, and she approached Zuko, who remained frowning down at the map. She stopped just behind his shoulder to look over him, skimming the familiar constellation of ink spots marking the lowest places of the Earth Kingdom.
"Right here," Zuko spoke, without any real lead-in. He pointed to a mark in the most northeastern portion of the Earth Kingdom. "This is the place I mentioned before. The really popular tavern."
She squinted at the spot in question. The place he had indicated was one of the final places marked. It was far north, in the direction of Ba Sing Se. They were a day or two out from that area, perhaps? It depended on the sort of obstacles they came upon. It depended on the sort of people with whom they interacted.
"We aren't too far," Azula observed. "But we'll have to be more vigilant about our surroundings. Colonel Mongke may be looking for us now. And if we meet again, we may have to contend with his teammates as well."
"The Rough Rhinos," Zuko supplied.
"The Rough Rhinos," she repeated, rolling her eyes at the stupid name. It sounded like some kind of silly singing group or something. "Either way. I don't want to deal with any more obstacles like that."
"When me and Uncle were running from the whole group of them, we were able to get away pretty easily," he stated. "We might not have to worry about them too much. Besides." He stiffly shrugged a shoulder. "I'm sure we could take them, if we had to."
"I agree," Azula said. Colonel Mongke had not seemed overly powerful or anything. The crowded setting and the unexpected nature of the interaction had negatively influenced their departure. They were fortunate that neither of them had been harmed in that escape. She would have been injured, she knew, if Zuko had been any less attentive to their surroundings. She appreciated his focus, as well as the strength and endurance he had shown in supporting the weight of her body as he had. It couldn't have been an easy task. She wasn't sure that she would have been able to do it, had their roles been reversed. Not for the first time, she was thankful.
If the Rough Rhinos found them again, she felt confident that they could escape or successfully defeat them. She felt confident in her own skills, and in his. She felt confident in their ability to be a strong team. She did not express this thought, however, as she had already previously spoken her appreciation to him. There was no reason to put herself out there again. Instead, she declared, "I'm going to meditate, and then we should start traveling again."
"Alright," Zuko replied, focusing again on the map in front of himself.
Azula passed behind him to return to her sleeping space to meditate — and as she did so, she raked her fingertips lightly across the top of his head.
A brief approximation of a half-forgotten, foreign gesture of fondness.
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The ninth tavern that they visited was located around a fairly populated area. An actual pathway made of stone slabs instead of worn-down dirt; this place was clearly more well cared-for than the previous taverns had been. There weren't even holes in the building! It contained a decent amount of customers, considering the fact that it was still before noon when they arrived. After looking around and inquiring with the barkeeper, they found that June was not present. Perhaps this place was not filthy enough for a bounty hunter who — as Zuko had said before — enjoyed spending time in such low places. Ha-ha. Azula amused herself with this petty thought as they got back onto Fluffy's back and moved along to the next place.
The tenth tavern that they visited was shrouded in shadows and dirt even in the broad daylight. She's been here before, the barkeeper had reported. But she hasn't visited in weeks. Something dark and oozing was dripping down the wall. The air smelled of pure alcohol. It was the lowest of the low. They left quickly.
The eleventh tavern that they visited had scorch marks on the outside, as if it had recently been burned.
"Oh yeah, I've met her," the bartender here had said, after Zuko had asked him of the bounty hunter. "She was here last night. She said she'd 'never come back to this shit-hole again.' Her words, not mine."
Azula felt her lip curl in disgust as an insect scurried across the bar counter. "I can't possibly imagine why."
It was another dead end, and the sun was already setting in the sky. It was good to know that June had just been here — but even so, it felt as though they were no closer to finding this woman than they had been when they had woken up this morning. If June had just been here, then they had to be close. She had to be at the next place. Right? She had to be. The sun had taken the warmth from the sky in its descent into night. Azula squeezed her legs around Fluffy's sides, encouraging the ostrich-horse to move forward as it paused to nibble at some leaves.
It was close to midnight by the time they reached the next marked location.
The twelfth tavern that they visited was relatively small — a dirty shack in the middle of the forest — and when they entered, it was clear to see that this place had been the location of a somewhat recent chaos. There was a serving child sweeping the ground of debris, pieces of wood and glass and paper scraps. A buzz of energy was in the air, as though the people present were gossiping about something. Did you see the way she jumped that guy? They went to the bartender — a middle-aged man with a severely receding hairline.
"We're looking for a bounty hunter." Azula initiated contact this time. "Her name is June."
The barkeeper shook his head with a scowl. "Don't remind me of that vile woman," he hissed.
Azula felt a thrill in her chest; she remained composed. "So, you've heard of her."
"Yes, I've heard of her," the man snapped. "She's the one who started the fight here last night." Azula and Zuko exchanged glances as the barkeeper continued to provide details. "I cut off her drink supply, since she was starting to harass one of my best customers. She threatened me, and then when I had my security guy come over, they argued, and she pushed him. Before I know it, people are kicking and throwing punches left and right. They put a hole right there in that wall."
"Where did she go?" Zuko asked.
"I don't know, but she won't be back here," the barkeeper replied. "She was banned."
She won't be back.
Azula and Zuko stepped over shattered glass as they left the tavern.
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It was so very late.
They didn't speak as the minutes turned into hours, as Fluffy trotted along the uneven, inconsistent path. The clouds were stretched across the bright moon in long streaks, like the legs of a creeping spider. Like some sort of foreboding omen.
Azula was sitting immediately behind Zuko, a scowl on her face and a pit in her stomach as they traveled on the narrow, beaten road. Twelve low places visited now, more than half of the marked eastern Earth Kingdom taverns visited… They should have found her by now! Why hadn't they found her? Sure, she had been seen in this area recently, but a lot could happen in a day. Worst case scenarios swirled through her mind. What if she was headed to the west side of the Earth Kingdom right now? What if she wasn't even in the Earth Kingdom anymore? What if she was off desecrating the air temple or something? How could they possibly know? Unease and anxiety were spreading like poison in her veins.
"Zuko," Azula said slowly. "What will we do, if we can't find her?"
There was a long stretch of silence. She listened to the dull steps of the ostrich-horse as they continued forward.
"I don't know," Zuko said finally.
Although this felt like the most realistic response that he could give her, Azula still found her stomach churning at the words. He didn't know. She didn't know. It would be like starting over at the beginning, except for worse, because they would have had the hopes of being so close … and it would have been snatched away, with nothing left of value to show for it.
"We should be prepared for that possibility," Azula told him. It was important to always be prepared, to always be a few steps ahead, as much as possible. Her brow furrowed as she tried to think of other avenues to find the Avatar, if this plan was unsuccessful. Last time, they had just seen the bison fly across the sky. That had been a stroke of dumb luck. The chances of something so fortuitous occurring again were slim. They really had no alternative way to track the boy, if this idea with the bounty hunter ended up failing.
"There are still four places left," Zuko murmured. "And she's been sighted around here recently. I don't think we have to worry about it right now."
Azula pursed her lips. "Advanced preparation is the key to success."
He didn't reply to that. She frowned, looking to the glowing moon in the sky. There were no answers hidden in the spindly clouds. He looked over his shoulder to her, but made no eye contact. "So then, what do you suggest?"
She didn't have any specific ideas. "I'm still contemplating it," she stated. "I just wanted to hear if you had any suggestions. I don't want us to fail, you know."
"I don't either," he retorted. "He might kill me the next time I mess up. He's not exactly forgiving."
She was quiet for a moment. It was very obvious to whom he was referring, even without Zuko naming him. Who else would it be but the Fire Lord? And he had a point; their father certainly wasn't going to spare Zuko any punishment, that was for sure. The Fire Lord wasn't forgiving, not even a little. Azula thought of punishments — trainings that had gone too far. Vicious insults. High expectations, extreme expectations. Humiliation… But a Fire Lord couldn't be merciful, if they wanted to succeed in their rule. That would be a recipe for disaster and revolution! Everyone knew that a ruler who was too tenderhearted was a ruler who was weak. Zuko should understand that.
"He's the ruler of the greatest nation on the earth," she rationalized. "You know he has to be like that."
"He's our father, too," Zuko pointed out.
"He's the Fire Lord before he's our father," she replied, and for some reason, the words made her chest throb with a dull pain — an odd, empty pang, a garden of neglected seeds and forgotten roots, aching with the possibilities of what could have been. "He'll never be our father first."
There was another silence, a painful one, one that made her throat hurt and her insides clench. It shouldn't matter. It shouldn't hurt, because obviously, their father's status and duties as the Fire Lord should always take precedence over them! It was his responsibility to be ruthless and effective, no matter the cost. It shouldn't matter to her. She frowned to herself, vaguely disconcerted with the pain in her heart.
"Never," Zuko repeated, sounding distant and quiet, a million miles away. He was not looking back to her. There was nothing that he could say that would change that fact. There was nothing that anyone could say. This was an unchangeable fact; discussing it would bring nothing but those deep, twinges of discomfort. "Do you really think that?"
"Of course I do," Azula snapped, annoyed by the new pangs twisting in her gut. "After what he did to you, you should know that better than anybody."
It was unkind. Leaves crinkled as the ostrich-horse stepped through the underbrush. She swallowed, self-reproach gathered like a stone in her throat. Well, it was true, she thought irritably. Would a regular father do something like that? Probably not, right? The Fire Lord was more than just a father; he was the Fire Lord. The Fire Lord was above admonishment, the Fire Lord had a duty to the nation, and he couldn't tolerate disrespect… He couldn't show mercy to… She felt profoundly sweaty. The way that Zuko was positioned in front of her, she could not see his face to analyze it — but she could feel the darkness radiating from him. His motions were more stiff and jerking than usual, even in the small movements of riding on Fluffy's back.
She had upset him. She knew that she had. It wasn't exactly an untrue statement. The Fire Lord would have done that to anyone. It wasn't about a father punishing his son; it was about a leader punishing a disgraceful citizen. That was what Father had said about it; he would make allowances for no one, not even family. It wasn't personal. Nothing ever was. But … how could it not be personal, really? How could the Fire Lord distance himself so much from it? There wasn't much that felt more personal than putting a hand to someone's face and just … burning… She cleared her throat, uncomfortable.
Regardless. There had been no reason to add such a remark, except to push her own sense of hurt onto him. This was the sort of thing that could destabilize the roots of their newly sprouting friendship, and she didn't want that.
Azula sighed heavily, aggravated with herself, her throat still feeling strangely constricted. "Okay, okay," she hastened. "I didn't mean to be so harsh."
Zuko said nothing.
She continued. "I was just…" She faltered, uncertain with how to qualify her emotions. "Upset."
It didn't feel like the right word. She didn't know if there was one, for the contradicting mixture of thoughts she felt.
"Yeah," he said dryly. "Well, you're right anyway."
She was right, but somehow, strangely, she was not pleased about it. Usually, being right was a positive experience. She swallowed again, her insides blooming with a discomfort that was difficult to explain.
"I'm sorry," she murmured — and she was sorry. Sorry about being so harsh, and privately, where nobody could see it, she was sorry about the very fact itself, that they might never have a true father, that Fire Lord Ozai might never be their father first.
Zuko sighed — a long, weary sound. His voice was sullen when he spoke again, but subdued and quiet; she wondered if he understood. "Just forget about it, Azula."
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The thirteenth tavern that they visited had a few dirty refugees loitering outside of the wooden walls. The sounds of clapping and yelling could be heard from within; this was clearly quite a busy place, in spite of the fact that it was a couple of hours after midnight. That other barkeeper had said that the best business occurred at nighttime; this must have been true for all of these lowly taverns.
"This is it," Azula said, as they tethered Fluffy to a tree near the outskirts of the tavern. "This is the popular place you were talking about. Correct?"
"Yeah." Zuko pulled up his hood, combing the front of his bangs down over his marked eye a little more than usual. If he kept his head down, the shadows would conceal much of his face — certainly not all of it, but enough. Azula followed his lead, tugging her own hood over her head to better obscure her face in the more populated area.
They were really going to have to work on developing more thorough disguises, in the future.
They entered the tavern, where there was a large, empty space in the center of the room. There was a table in the middle of the space, and around it, a group of people had gathered. It was quite apparent that something was going on here.
Azula squinted toward the center of this gathering as a man was tossed from the group; a woman stood by the edge of the table, looking down at him with her hands placed on her hips, mirth and condescension radiating from her very silhouette.
The woman's hair was dark, with long strands covering the side of her face.
There, on her tricep, was a tattoo of a curled snake.
Azula looked right to Zuko beside her, close enough for her to discern his face, and she didn't have to even ask. Though his mouth did not move, she could see the light of vivid satisfaction flicker in his eyes — she just knew.
They had found June.
She was really here! Here, at the thirteenth unsavory tavern in the eastern Earth Kingdom. Finally! It was well past midnight now, but suddenly, Azula felt more awake than she had in weeks. Success was at their fingertips. Finding the Avatar was only a few steps away now. Gaining this woman's assistance could change everything. They had to do whatever it took to gain her cooperation.
Azula took a step toward the bounty hunter and the group of observing tavern-goers, but she immediately felt Zuko's hand at her shoulder.
"Let me talk to her," he insisted, his eyes never leaving the bounty hunter.
"Fine." Azula waved her hand, relenting easily to the request. It wasn't a bad idea. Zuko had met June before. It could increase their chances of a successful collaboration, if someone who was familiar to the bounty hunter initiated the conversation. They had to do everything possible to maximize the success of this interaction.
Zuko led the way toward the middle of the tavern, and Azula followed, her hands clasped together behind her back.
June was seated at a table in the center of the group of hollering peasants, and she had her elbow positioned right in the middle of it. Her hand was clasped to the hand of a dusty-looking man.
They were arm wrestling.
"No!" the dirty man shouted, as the bounty hunter slammed his knuckles into the hard table. This action was met with a variety of cheers and boos from the group that surrounded them.
"Next!" the bounty hunter crowed her triumph.
Zuko stepped forward and smacked his two palms on the table, leaning against it. Perhaps he thought that this made him appear more threatening or more in charge. There was no need for intimidation tactics so early in the interaction. She frowned, trying to refrain from sighing. In the thrill of finally, finally locating this bounty hunter, Azula had overlooked a critical matter — and that was the fact that talking to people was not one of Zuko's strengths. He was not good at reading and manipulating social interactions. Hopefully, this would not be detrimental to their success…
June's brow arched. "What do you want?"
"I have to talk to you," Zuko said.
"Oh, is that right," June remarked, no hint of a question in her tone. She beckoned to another scruffy person in the surrounding group, a man with a spiky beard. The man came to the central table, knocking Zuko out of the way as though he did not even see him.
"Watch it!" Zuko snapped. But this man — and June — completely disregarded him. The man sat in the seat in front of June and joined hands with her. They began to arm wrestle. A moment passed, and Azula crossed her arms over her chest as she watched the interaction beginning to flounder.
Zuko stood at the side of the table, as the arm wrestle continued, uninterrupted. "I need your help finding someone. Can we talk?"
Smack!
June slammed the man's hand into the wood of the table, and the group groaned and clapped; Azula noticed people exchanging money back and forth — as though they had been making bets.
"So, talk." June picked up a drink from the table, and she rapidly chugged the entire thing. "And as you can see, I'm a little busy — so you'd better make it quick."
Another patron sat down in the seat across from June; it was a surly man with a long ponytail. The two of them totally ignored Zuko's presence and initiated the arm wrestle.
"Look," Zuko tried again. "This is really important."
There was a slapping sound as the man's knuckles hit the table, as he himself flipped over it from the velocity of the motion. It was all rather sudden. The man toppled into the adjacent group, amid laughter and yelling and general noise. June dusted her hands together and chuckled lightly.
"Listen, kid," June said, barely casting her eyes to Zuko before going back to her work. "I don't really have time for your little job. I'm on a tight schedule these days." She flipped her long hair over her shoulders and called out to the bartender. "Five Oolong Hais on the rocks!"
"You aren't listening to me!" Zuko growled, clearly frustrated, as June began to beckon toward the people around them, as though requesting another opponent.
"Like I said." June crossed her legs as she settled in her seat. There was a long slit up the side of her dress, just as that young barkeeper had described. Her entire leg was indeed very visible from this angle. Azula squinted, appraising in silence. "Kinda busy."
"But —"
"Move along, little boy." June waved her hand in dismissal. "I have things to do right now."
A large woman shoved Zuko to the side, extending her hand to June to oppose her next. Zuko stumbled sideways, jostling Azula and the people nearest to them — but the others were focused on June and the arm wrestle. Azula watched Zuko from the corners of her eyes. He was watching the arm wrestle with a deep frown on his face.
"I'll talk to her," Azula said decisively.
"No," Zuko hissed, emitting waves of pure stubbornness. "I can do it."
Before Azula could point out his ineffectiveness thus far, Zuko stormed toward the middle again as June defeated her current opponent. June cackled as the large woman grumbled away in defeat — and Zuko seated himself in the empty space across from her.
June watched him with a single eyebrow arched, her eyes intense and intrusive as she looked him up and down, and up and down. She squinted toward his face, partially hidden by the shadows from his makeshift hood. From the closer proximity, and her more undivided attention, it was likely that June could more clearly see Zuko's distinct face now.
"Well, well," she said, a smirk spreading across her face. "If it isn't Prince Pouty! Barely recognized you all covered up like that."
Zuko began again. "Can you just —"
June planted her elbow right into the center of the table, holding her palm out to him.
"Let's go," June demanded. "If you want my time, you'll have to earn it. Just like everyone else."
Zuko paused, his eyes on the offering of June's palm. Azula frowned, recalling the peasants that June had literally tossed over the table. They had all been so much bigger than Zuko was; she felt uncertainty burning in her stomach. She knew that Zuko was stronger than he appeared but … clearly, this woman was, too.
After a beat of hesitation, Zuko took June's hand, setting his elbow on the table as well, mirroring June's position.
And they began to arm wrestle.
"So, you wanted to talk," June said conversationally, as they remained in a stalemate for a moment. "Then, talk."
"I wanted to get in business with you again," he snapped. "It's — "
"Important, you said," June interrupted, pressing on his arm — pressing effectively, as the force began to tip Zuko's arm back. "Everybody thinks that their job is the most important."
"This could change everything," Zuko gritted out, pressing back. "This — this could change the — ugh — the future of the world."
"Oh, no," June cooed sarcastically. "That does sound important."
Smack!
There was a loud thumping sound as the back of Zuko's hand slammed into the wood of the table.
It had ended rather abruptly.
"Next!" June called out to the general area. Someone was at his shoulder in barely a second, ready to unseat him.
"Hey, wait!" Zuko jerked his shoulder away from the next in line. He set his hands on the surface of the table, leaning over it, leaning toward June. "Let's go again; I — I wasn't ready!"
"Nobody likes a sore loser, kid," June sneered. "Next!"
And Zuko was pushed to the side as a new opponent came forward to challenge this woman. He scowled as a new arm wrestling match was initiated. Azula crossed her arms over her chest, vaguely exasperated. Zuko did not give her the opportunity to chastise him; he promptly elbowed himself back to the forefront of June's future arm wrestling competitors, and the moment the new opponent had been bested, Zuko shoved himself back into the challenger's seat.
June smirked. "Are you finally ready now?"
Zuko planted his elbow down and held out his palm again. "I'm ready."
June took his hand, and they began the match again. Azula frowned at the pair of them from the small distance. The other peasants around her kept their eyes focused on the arm wrestle in the middle, and Azula wondered if anyone here would recognize him. Perhaps not … she couldn't see Zuko's face clearly from here. The lighting wasn't great in this place. That was probably for the best. But still. It felt like everyone was watching. All that this task was doing was drawing more and more attention to themselves.
Several seconds passed in which June and Zuko remained deadlocked, in which Zuko's arm trembled, and June stared at him, unblinking. Another smack! The back of his hand struck hard against the wood table. At least his defeat had taken longer this time. There was some dignity in that.
Their hands clasped together again, a third time. June looked at Zuko with a devious curve to her mouth. She leaned her arm back, as though Zuko was actually making some progress … but then after a moment of this feint, she jerked her arm forward and bam! Smashed his hand again into the grain of the table.
Again and again and again. June was no longer switching competitors between each arm wrestle. It was only her versus Zuko. Azula could see a reddish mark developing across his knuckles, evidence of the repeated impact of his hand into the very solid table.
"Had enough?" June taunted, pressing against his forearm with minimal effort. She seemed to be quite enjoying herself now, in spite of her initial resistance to engaging with him.
"No," Zuko said, through gritted teeth.
Azula pursed her lips as she continued to observe this. Although she appreciated Zuko's persistence, this was getting them nowhere. They had to try and negotiate this from another angle. Otherwise, Zuko was going to end up getting hurt, and they would leave here in defeat — humiliating, awful defeat — with no plan forward. They had no other plan. They couldn't leave here with nothing, especially after drawing so much attention to themselves. It felt like everyone was looking at June and Zuko. If they wanted to keep a low profile, this wasn't the way to do so. If they actually wanted to organize a deal, they were going to have to discuss specifics.
Azula approached, and before they could initiate their ninth arm wrestle, she clasped her hand to Zuko's shoulder from behind, drawing June and Zuko's attention to herself.
"Enough of this," Azula said, her eyes on the bounty hunter across the table.
June arched a condescending brow at her, resting her chin on her palm as she fixed her attention on Azula. "Are you up next, little girl?"
"She's with me," Zuko stated, scowling.
"We should discuss this matter in private," Azula recommended, her jaw clenching in stifled agitation. "Surely you can take a break from this foolishness to discuss actual business."
June inclined her head as she scrutinized Azula's face, then looked back to Zuko, whose hand was still partially outstretched, as though he had not yet given up on this endeavor.
"I liked your other girlfriend better," June said scornfully.
It really was amazing how quickly a red flush blossomed across Zuko's face. "She is not my girlfriend," he said sharply, planting his fists onto the table's surface. "She's my sister."
"Well." June sneered. "That explains a lot."
Unfazed, Azula withdrew her hand from Zuko's shoulder and crossed her arms tightly over her chest again. "Let's speak elsewhere," she suggested firmly, disregarding the comment. "You know who we are, don't you? We could make it worth your while."
June eyed her, clearly assessing, clearing judging.
There was a long silence between them, filled in by the mutterings and rustlings of restless bystanders, the entertainment interrupted.
"Take ten, everyone," June declared to the surrounding group, and then she gestured between Zuko and Azula. "You two — meet me out back. We'll talk. I'll be out there in two minutes." She dusted her palms together, as though wiping away the dirt from the arm wrestling challenges. "First, let me refill my drink."
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There was a bit of a clearing behind the tavern, with a small lantern mounted to the outside wall, to provide some light to the area. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Zuko rubbing at his knuckles, scowling as he looked in the opposing direction. His previous connection to this woman did not appear to have been even slightly helpful. The arm wrestling venture had been an awful failure — nine attempts, and he had lost each time. And he had done so while surrounded by peasants. Although, to his credit, it did not appear that anyone present in the tavern had been successful in besting June in that undertaking. So, at least there was that? Still … Azula nearly felt embarrassed on his behalf.
She clasped her hands together behind her back, frowning as she inspected this area. Zuko leaned back against the wall of the tavern, his arms crossed over his chest. It was quite an informal, sloppy-looking posture. The nearly permanent wrinkle in his brow was more shadowed than usual. He was in a bad mood. How could he not be, she thought, after this long, wretched ordeal of a day? Let me talk to her, he had requested — but he had barely had any success with her. Of course he was more moody than usual.
"I didn't see you doing much talking in there," Azula remarked, lightly teasing.
"Shut up," Zuko grumbled.
She stifled the smirk at her lips. "How's your hand, by the way?"
His arms crossed more tightly around himself, as though he was trying to hide the specific hand from her view. "Don't patronize me."
The busy sounds from within the tavern washed over them as the back door opened, and the bounty hunter joined them. June flipped her long hair over her shoulder as she approached, a large glass in her hand, filled high with a thick, orange drink. She walked in front of them like a predator, leering and unreserved in her scrutiny as she smirked. Zuko fixed his posture right away, stepping forward to stand beside Azula as if they really were a unified team.
"Well." June impatiently tapped her fingernails against her glass. "Go on. Tell me about your important job."
Zuko spoke up immediately. "We were given a mission by the Fire Lord."
"Ooh, the Fire Lord," June said insincerely, folding an arm over her chest, her drinkless hand resting in the pit of her elbow. "Obviously you're chasing after someone. That does seem important, if it came from the Fire Lord." She tapped her fingers against her arm, as though she was contemplating the idea. She looked from Zuko to Azula, then back to Zuko, then back to Azula. Judging. Who did this woman think she was? "Well," June said, after a beat of brief consideration. Too brief, Azula felt. "Let's not waste time."
June held out a hand to Zuko, as though she intended to shake it, to seal their deal. It seemed too easy, too agreeable. Zuko did not hesitate; he extended his arm right away, and they shook hands. And then, without missing a beat, June reached out and snatched at the bottom of his shirt sleeve, ripping away a scrap of the fabric without any perceivable effort.
"Hey!" Zuko snapped.
"New policy," June explained. "If you'd like to do business with me, I'll need the sleeve of your shirt."
"You could've asked," Zuko groused, his hand at the torn sleeve, as though the action had harmed him. June stuck her hand into the cleavage of her dress, withdrawing a small knapsack that was covered in little pockets. In a quick motion, she poked the scrap from Zuko's sleeve into one of the pockets.
June's eyes turned toward Azula, sharp and shrewd. "You too, princess."
Azula frowned. She looked to Zuko, silently questioning him. Could this woman be trusted? As Zuko had mentioned before, this woman had the means to find anyone in the world by using only a scrap of their belongings. It seemed foolish to hand over something that would allow June to find her immediately, especially when they had not yet officially created the stipulations of a deal. Zuko looked at her, his brow arched like he expected her to do the same. They had to make this deal at any cost. He wasn't concerned about the distant ramifications. She nearly rolled her eyes. Since when did Zuko analyze situations in advance? He was the sort of person who acted first and asked questions later. He had always been like that.
"Let's discuss payment first," Azula suggested.
June squinted at her for a moment, but then folded her little bag shut, before tucking it back into the front of her dress again.
"I like a girl that gets right to business," she declared, and Azula felt the pressure of both June and Zuko's eyes on her for a moment. June sipped at her drink before continuing on. "I won't settle for a fraction less than 6,000 gold coins, for you two."
Zuko huffed in indignation. "That's way more than you charged last time!"
June shrugged a shoulder, unbothered by his aggravation. "You're worth something now."
You're worth something now… Azula frowned between the two of them, her mind spinning. What did June know of their worth … unless … she knew of their bounty. Azula felt her heart pounding forcefully in her chest; the realization had stricken her like a bolt of lightning. That was it. June knew of their bounty. Just as Colonel Mongke had known. That she wanted it for herself only made sense. She was a bounty hunter. Of course she knew.
Zuko folded his arms over his chest, scowling. He didn't realize, and he began, "We don't have that kind —"
"Just how much do you think we're worth?" Azula interrupted sharply.
June smirked. It was so obvious. "Let's see if I can remember it right; just correct me if I'm wrong…" She cleared her throat, then recited, as if reading a script: "Prince and Princess of the Fire Nation. Wanted for treason. A reward of 3,000 gold coins, alive. A reward of 2,000 gold coins, dead." Her eyes were practically glowing as she looked over them. "I mean, damn! The two of you alive? There's not much else out there that would get me that kind of profit, all in one go. Surely you can understand why I wouldn't settle for a single coin less."
"You don't believe that we'd be able to get you that kind of money?" Azula asked calmly, as though there was no threat at all.
"We don't have that kind of money," June repeated Zuko's earlier words, completing the sentence — her tone exaggerated and mocking. Azula spared Zuko a pointed look, her irritation carefully controlled for the sake of maintaining the illusion of unity. He had sweat at his temple.
"That's — that's not what I was going to say," Zuko hissed. Such a lie.
"Yeah, right."
With a flourish, June pulled a long, black whip from her inner thigh, her dress fluttering with the movement. "Anyway," she said, shaking the whip free with a wild motion. "If you can't get me more than your bounty's worth, then your little job won't be worth the trouble. I'll just bring you in on my own."
Azula began to reason. "Don't you think —"
"You can't have us," Zuko cut in. "You can't — "
June put her forefingers to her mouth and blew — a loud, shrill whistle filled the air and echoed across the trees. She must have had some kind of business associate she was calling over. Great.
"It's nothing personal, kid," June said. "I've got debts to pay."
Zuko reached out and looped his fingers around Azula's inner elbow, tugging on her. "We have to go," he told her. So soon? She had barely even had the opportunity to negotiate! "Come on."
"We can still discuss this," Azula protested. "We can still —"
"Azula —"
"Go on if you want." June gestured toward her own upper arm, indicating where a sleeve would go, a reminder of the recently provided collateral. "Personally, I enjoy the thrill of the chase."
THUMP.
With a dull crash, a creature leaped into the open space, landing just a few feet away from the group of them. It was a hideous beast, massive and coated in coarse, brown fur. For a moment, she thought that it might be a platypus-bear, but this creature had a large snout, with odd protrusions coming from its nostrils at every angle. It sniffed the air surrounding them with a wild, snorting sound — what was this, her pet? — and then it screeched loudly in their general direction.
Without a moment of hesitation, the creature whipped its long, slimy tongue toward them.
Zuko's hand was still curled around the inside of her elbow, and at the creature's motion, he yanked on her, pulling her sideways with so much force that she nearly toppled to her side onto the hard earth. He had jumped away as well, narrowly avoiding contact with the beast — a small puff of dust was lifted from the earth where that tongue had struck; they had just been standing right there.
"Don't let it touch you," Zuko warned, his eyes seeking out June, who stood there, so very calmly sipping at her drink as though a giant monster had not just appeared from the trees. The animal screeched and shot out its long tongue again. Azula and Zuko separated immediately, going in opposing directions, as the appendage smacked the space in between them.
If this creature's contact was dangerous, then Azula knew that it had to be dealt with right away; there was no time to waste. She jerked her hand upward, sending out a sharp arc of flame in its direction. The beast growled and jumped toward her, clearly targeting her next. It whipped its tongue outward again, and Azula dove to the ground to avoid it.
Azula tumbled into a half-kneeling position, and she stomped her heel into the ground. She shoved a blast of fire toward the ugly being, a blast which smashed into the earth just in front of it, sending up dirt particles and rocks and chunks of dead grass. The beast growled and stumbled backwards, snuffling around, shaking its head all around as though trying to shake away the dust of the earth; Azula took this opportunity to get away. She rolled into the surrounding trees and bushes at the outskirts of this clearing. The dusty diversion that she had caused to the creature would provide her a moment to plot her next moves, if she did not draw attention to herself. It would be more difficult for the creature to detect her in the overgrowth.
Azula peered through the bushes to see just what was happening between June and Zuko, while the animal shook its head wildly in its distraction.
She caught sight of Zuko stepping closer to June, gesticulating — trying to convince her to stop the monster? Trying to retrieve his stolen sleeve and escape? Trying to get her to surrender and leave them unscathed? She heard him yelling while June stood with her weapon hand on her hip, the whip dangling to the ground.
"Call it off!"
June tipped her drink to her mouth, taking a large swig of the orange beverage before throwing the glass violently in between them, a clear escalation of this fight. The glass shattered to pieces with a loud pop in the late night, leaving a small stain on the earth where the leftover droplets seeped into the dry ground.
"I'm done with this conversation," the bounty hunter declared. "I've made my decision — and you royal brats are coming with me."
"I won't let you —"
There was a loud, splitting sound, as June swiftly threw something in his direction — her whip! Zuko put his arms up, crossed together at the wrist to protect himself from the strike; the whip looped itself around his forearm, and she could hear him shout. He raised his other arm, like he was about to return the attack, and June yanked on the body of the whip, pulling him off balance, pulling him onto his knees.
Azula felt a surge of heat flash through her system, almost out of her control. She pointed her forefingers outward, pointed them right toward June's hands, right where June's fingers grasped onto that weapon. Zuko rolled to the side, his arms still contained by the whip over his head. It was nearly perfect timing. Azula sent a torrent of flame toward the bounty hunter.
The fire flared out right in front of June's face.
June bellowed, her obscenities likely audible through the entire Earth Kingdom. She tossed the now flaming whip from her hands, tossed it into Zuko, just a few feet away; he had managed to shake his arms free, and he was scrambling up.
The animal screeched again, its attention drawn to the developing altercation, now that the original dusty distraction that Azula had caused was gone, and a new, flaming one was present. It would have been difficult not to notice. The beast pivoted its body to June and Zuko and the flames that remained.
On his feet now, Zuko crouched, aiming a fist toward June, as though he intended to threaten her. Why didn't he attack her? He shouted, "You have to —"
And in a smooth, easy motion, that creature whipped its nasty tongue out a third time; the appendage cut swiftly through the air and lashed across Zuko's side, knocking him into the dirt with a thud.
And there he remained.
For a moment, Azula couldn't tear her eyes from the scene before her. Don't let it touch you, Zuko had just said — and it had touched him! Was he okay? He wouldn't have told her to keep away if it hadn't been important. The nasty creature was sniffing at the air, like it was seeking out some new prey, now that it had successfully struck Zuko. Azula elbowed her way out from between the overgrowth, breathless. She refused to be considered prey.
Azula emerged into the open space again, and she did not hesitate to attack again; She pointed toward the woman, taking aim — a jet of fire streamed toward June, and June jerked to the side, moving with barely enough time to avoid a burn; the flames passed her torso, visibly singeing June's clothes. The animal vocalized again, as though it intended to defend its owner. Azula had to duck down to avoid being lashed by that tongue again, and she rolled on the ground, preparing another blast of flame.
Azula saw June jerk her arm in her direction. There was a loud crack, as another whip soared through the air, and Azula felt a shock of pain as the weapon slapped her leg, as she moved across the ground. June was trying to contain her. So that filthy beast could knock her over! No, no — Azula wasn't going to be thrown down like Zuko.
Zuko… He was laying there on the ground so very still that she had to wonder if he was even breathing. He was too far from her to get a good look at him. He must have been knocked right out. This couldn't be happening. Azula felt another jarring pain as June whipped at her again — this time, the whip snared itself around her ankle successfully.
Refusing to be taken in like this, Azula kicked outward, sending a surge of flame from her heel that promptly ignited the whip that gripped her ankle. June cursed loudly, throwing the whip to the ground, the fire coming close to her. "You little —"
Another cracking sound as the animal attacked again, the tongue smashing the ground just inches from Azula's side, just a fraction of space. Azula twisted and kicked again, jerking the long length of the fiery whip up in the air. The still-flaming weapon soared upwards, arced right toward that vicious creature.
Smack! The length of the whip landed on the fur of the beast's back. It roared, large paws smacking at its own body to address the new distraction at its back, flaming and overheated and wild. The tongue shot out again and again, and Azula dove into a somersault to escape the most immediate danger. If she could just get that animal to run off, then she felt certain that she could take June. Gods, none of this was going as imagined. Zuko… She could not afford to get distracted right now. But he wasn't moving; why wasn't he moving? Even if he had been dazed somehow, he should have recovered by now; this was not like him. He should not be laying there like that. She tore her eyes away from his motionless silhouette, a million miles away, and focused on the snuffling, growling creature that flailed around in the clearing. Azula pointed her forefingers at that smoking whip, and she sent a blaze of fire toward it, adding more ammunition to the existing fire, to get that animal to panic and flee.
The beast shot out that tongue repeatedly, striking the ground, the bushes, the broken fence post … crack, crack, crack! It scrambled away, crashing through trees and disappearing into the darkness of the night. The burning whip came to rest across the ground, smoldering like a thin, luminous fence.
The creature ran into the trees, and then it was gone.
Pleased with this success, Azula turned her attention back to June — and with a feeling of overwhelming dread, she saw that June had picked Zuko up. The woman had tossed him over her shoulder, like a useless bag of flour. Zuko dangled there, limp and unmoving. What was wrong with him? He wasn't resisting it; why wasn't he resisting? June was taking him, she was taking him away! No, no, no — that could not happen, Azula would not allow it — June bolted away in between the trees with Zuko, and Azula hurried after the woman, hands already heated, already prepared for attack.
"Stop!" Azula shouted. "Get back here immediately!"
June didn't stop.
Azula pursued, running through bushes, running through mud and rocks and dust and trees with barely any space in between. Low branches and twigs smacked at her as she passed; she didn't care. She couldn't lose sight of them, she couldn't let this woman take him.
With June now in sight, Azula dashed forward and landed in a graceful lunge, her two arms outstretched to her sides. Without a moment of hesitation, she sent a jet of fire outward. A swift stream of flames circled around the three of them like a viper, trapping them together. A menacing room made of fire walls.
June whirled around, and with a jerking motion, she yanked a third whip out from beneath her dress. How many whips did this woman have? She flipped it into the air, and Azula quickly created a large, blazing ball of fire in front of herself, obliterating the entire weapon in a single act.
"You burned me!" June hissed, her whip hand fisted in midair, an empty threat now. "You stupid, little —"
"Put him down at once," Azula commanded, her jaw clenching as embers fell around them like a light rain. "Or that will be the least of your suffering."
"Is that some kind of threat?"
Azula turned her hands upward, and she conjured two bright balls of flame into the palms of her hands, prepared to attack again. The blaze was overly bright, almost unmanageable.
Her voice was stiff and coldly composed when she spoke again. "Put him down."
June squinted at her, her loathing palpable.
The air was filled only with the crackling of the surrounding fire, a heavy, pervasive tension, the pounding of her heart in her ears. June set a fist to her hip, with her head held high as she glowered at Azula. There was nowhere for this woman to run. She wasn't going to kidnap Zuko like this; Azula would not tolerate it. Gods, he wasn't moving at all. Maybe he had had the wind knocked out of him. Maybe he had been knocked unconscious. Maybe he had spoken, but she hadn't heard it in the midst of all of the commotion. She couldn't see his face. She did not want to consider the worst. Her heart was racing. He certainly wasn't showing any physical signs of life.
"Sheesh," June commented casually, finally. Like all of this was no big deal at all. "Relax. Take a fucking breath. Look —" She reached up and with two hands, she easily lifted Zuko from her shoulder, the way one would remove a large hat. Like he was nothing. June dropped him to the ground in front of herself, like an offering, and she took a single step backwards. Zuko toppled to his back, awkward and lifeless, his arms stretched out at his sides. She heard him groan; it was a pitiful sound, a weak, unsettling sound. But just as pathetic was the sudden surge of relief that Azula felt, so intense that it even weakened her extremities for a moment. He was incapacitated somehow, but he was alive. She did not remove her eyes from June.
"What did you do?" Azula demanded, not at all reducing the fire in her palms.
June set both hands on her hips now. "See for yourself," she said, stepping back closer to the fire wall, giving them space. "He's perfectly fine. It's just shirshu venom."
"Venom," Azula repeated, almost breathless. "So you've poisoned him."
"Don't be stupid," June scoffed. "As if I'm going to kill him and lose out on all that coin for no damn reason." She shook her head. "Shirshu venom is a paralytic. The most powerful in nature." She squinted at Zuko, as though assessing him from the distance. "He'll be down for the next few hours."
Although this sounded like a logical explanation, she had to see the evidence for herself. Azula stepped closer to Zuko, one hand still up like a torch, still holding to a blaze of fire, still prepared for attack. It would have been stupid of June to start a problem, surrounded by the fire wall as she was, with flames in Azula's palm … but, still. Azula refused to let her guard down.
Azula crouched at Zuko's side. As much as she wanted to look at him, to really check on him — she was careful to keep her attention on June, just in case the woman attacked again. Without hesitation, Azula lay her hand across Zuko's neck, her thumb stretching across his trachea, her fingertips seeking the beat of his heart. His skin was so warm. Bump-bump. Bump-bump.
"Speak to me, Zuko," Azula ordered. "Are you injured?"
"I'm fine," he murmured, after a moment of silence. He sounded breathless and uneven, like maybe he had been winded by the fight, or by June's rough handling. Azula could feel the vibrations of his raspy voice in his throat. It was oddly reassuring. "I just can't move."
Azula smothered the relief that pressed into her own airway. There was no time to dwell on that. She withdrew her contact and rose, still facing June. The woman held her ground as Azula moved forward, as Azula stood as a physical obstacle between the bounty hunter and Zuko.
"You'd better pray that you haven't harmed my shirshu," June remarked, examining her hand; Azula could see a pinkening burn developing. "Shame that she didn't get to you first." She fixed Azula with a spiteful glare, before adding snidely, "I'll have to call her back, just for you."
"Shame that you haven't realized," Azula replied coolly, "that it's a mistake for you to try and capture us for yourself."
June rolled her eyes. "For a reward of 6,000 gold coins, I think I'll take my chances with the guilt of such a mistake."
"Not just 6,000 gold coins," Azula insisted. "You know who we are. We can make you richer than you've ever imagined."
June scoffed in disbelief. She gestured toward Zuko, so motionless on the ground behind Azula. "He said that you don't have that kind of money. Are you calling him a liar?"
"No," she answered easily. "He hadn't clarified himself yet. We don't have that kind of money on us — right now. But if you give us a few days, we can access our resources and get you what you need."
"Right…" June said. "Or, I could just take you in now and get a guaranteed 6,000 coins by this time tomorrow. Seems like the obvious choice to me."
Azula set a hand on her hip, maintaining her flame in her other palm. Less intense perhaps, but still the presence of a direct threat. "Don't you see?" she said, with the perfect amount of exasperation and condescending patience in her tone. "If you drag us to the Fire Nation as prisoners, then sure, you might get a 6,000 coin reward — but then you'd be on your merry way, with nothing more to benefit. However, if I tell my father that you were crucial to our mission's success, then he will honor you beyond your wildest dreams. Wouldn't that be more worthwhile? Not only would you gain over 6,000 gold coins when we pay you for this job, but you'd also have our blessing. You'd be in good standing with the Fire Lord, permanently. You're a smart woman. You know that being in good favor with the Fire Lord would be very valuable."
Things were quiet for a moment as June appeared to contemplate this.
"It would be, wouldn't it," June commented flatly.
Azula waited in strategic silence.
"Alright then, smart girl." June folded her arms across her chest. "I can stay in town for the next seven days at most — so you'll need to get me your money before the week is over. I'll be here at this tavern every night till I leave, so you can just find me here when you're ready. I won't do your little job without my payment up front. Got it?"
"Yes." Azula felt her breath sticking in her throat. "6,000 gold coins in seven days."
"Well, actually." June's eyes glittered with the surrounding firelight. "Because of this special situation, there will be a few extra fees."
Azula clenched her jaw to avoid expressing her irritation. "What do you mean, extra fees?"
"7,505 gold coins," June decided abruptly. "That's your price. 6,000 to match your living bounty. 500 for the time that I'll be taking out of my busy life to help you with this very important job. 500 for the traumatic experience that you've given my poor, sweet Nyla. And 500 to replace my whips. I'm not made of money, you know. Like I said, I have debts to pay."
"And the remaining five?" Azula questioned.
June used her thumb and index finger to mime the action of drinking. "For my drink, obviously. Every drop matters."
Obviously.
"So." June tapped at her upper arm, a reminder of the collateral that she had requested as a requirement for her work. "7,505 coins in the week, and I'll help you with your little job. Take it or leave it. Do we have a deal?"
The options were limited, Azula knew. If she accepted the terms of this deal, then they would have to somehow make such a tremendous amount of money in such a short span of time. 7,505 gold coins! Was there any alternative at all? Perhaps she could attack June — she could knock her out and then steal her little knapsack and try to drag Zuko to safety before that shirshu returned — and then, if all of that was successful… Then what? Then they would be lost. They would have no plan forward, and they would have yet another bounty hunter tracking them.
They had to do this. After all, the end goal had been to coordinate a deal with June … and now, Azula had done just that.
Azula tore the bottom of her sleeve, her heart racing.
"We have a deal," she agreed. She studied this vile woman in front of her for a moment, and then, she allowed her flames to slowly dissipate. She held out the piece of her shirt sleeve, and June took it. She smirked, and she tucked the piece away, in the same fashion that she had tucked away Zuko's collateral sleeve.
This was the right choice, Azula knew. Even if this woman was crude and selfish and potentially untrustworthy, what mattered the most was that June was motivated by her own self-interest — and this certainly appeared to be the case. This was a success, for now.
Azula shook June's hand. She heard Zuko groan again, so distant behind her.
"I look forward to doing business with you," June stated. "See you soon."
And with a flourish, June left them.
0000000000000
Azula stood facing the tavern, her senses buzzing with wild, conflicting emotions.
They had done it. They had found June. They had struck a bargain with her; they had a real plan! This was a success, an incredible, wonderful success. So, why didn't she feel pleased? Instead of satisfaction and relief, there was a pool of churning dread in her gut, eclipsing the triumph that was supposed to be there. The question lingered like a cloud in the air surrounding them: how?
How were they going to get their hands on 7,505 gold coins?
If they were home in the Fire Nation, it would have only been a matter of traveling to the royal treasury with a carriage to transport the coins, and a quill to sign consent for them. It would have been barely even a day of work. All she would have had to do was give the order, and it would have been done. But out here? They had nothing!
Spirits… What were they going to do?
Azula turned to check on her brother, her fists opening and closing as she drew nearer to him. She was distinctly aware of a thin sheen of sweat at her palms and in between her fingers. So unpleasant. Zuko hadn't moved since he had been put here. Of course he hadn't. He just lay there, useless and too-vulnerable to attack. She could have stepped right on him, if she so chose. She could have turned around and just left him there for the night. There would have been no repercussions.
She wasn't going to do that, though. She found that she didn't even want to.
His gaze met hers, and she set her hands on her hips as she stood over him in silent judgment.
"You," Azula said, in accusation, "should have told me that that woman has a creature that can paralyze people."
"I told you," Zuko replied. "I said, don't let it touch —"
"No," Azula interjected. "Nowhere in your descriptions of her was there ever a statement about her pet being able to do that." She gestured to him and his useless body. "We've been traveling for days with this plan. That is extremely important information. And you never thought to mention it ahead of time. What were you thinking?"
"I didn't —"
"No, you didn't," she interrupted in her agreement. "Do you ever think ahead? Ever?"
"Well, what were you thinking, Azula?" Zuko retorted. "7,505 in a week? How are we going to do that?"
She planted her fists on her hips. "This was the only viable option," she snapped. "Would you have preferred that I let June take you back to the Fire Nation in disgrace?"
"No, but —"
"So, what exactly would you have preferred?"
Zuko groaned in aggravation. "I don't know! Just not this."
"If I had told her that we wouldn't pay that fee, then she would have kidnapped us herself," Azula pointed out. "You know that."
He glowered at nothing in particular, his eyes turned to the side, like he was trying to look away from her in spite of his inability to physically turn himself away. She knew that she was right — and he knew that, too; of course he was going to be ill-tempered about it when he was the one who had borne the worst aftereffects of the altercation. Azula gnawed at the inside of her cheek as she continued to look down at him.
Obviously, she would not have preferred any of this either. She would have preferred some alternative in which June had waived the payment for their deal. They were Fire Nation royalty, after all. Or some other alternative where Zuko's ability to properly move had not been taken from him. This was such an inconvenience. But what else could have been done?
"This was our only choice," Azula continued, frowning. "We'll just … have to figure something out."
But what? She did not like the way that her stomach was fluttering and twisting. She didn't like the way that sweat crept down her temple. She wet her lips, unsure of what else to say about the matter.
"Well…" he muttered, and she almost wondered if he was even talking to her, or just talking to himself. "Maybe we'll be okay. If anyone can figure something out, it's you. You can do everything."
She swallowed, wiping away the sweat that was crawling down her face. She had to admit that it felt good to hear a vote of confidence, even if it was stained slightly by an edge of old bitterness. She could do everything, he had said. It certainly didn't feel that way right now, with instability and anxiety and trepidation growing like terrible weeds in the pit of her stomach.
Zuko added, slowly. "I suppose I should thank you for your help tonight."
She cleared her throat. "Don't thank me just yet," she said. "I still have to figure a way to move you out of here."
"Yeah… Right…"
She didn't know if she would be able to carry him somewhere else. It wasn't like he only needed a little support; he would need complete assistance to get out of here. The prospect of having to physically move him was intimidating … but how else would he get out of here? It wasn't like he was going to get up and walk, and she had no intentions of hanging around for several hours while they waited for him to regain himself.
Without consulting him about the logistics of her future actions, Azula stepped into the space between his legs, and she turned away, toward the direction in which she intended to bring him. She squatted, her hands grasping around the sides of his knees. Her fingertips pressed into his knee pits as she turned to look at him over her shoulder. His eyes were very round.
"What are you doing?"
"I'll move slowly," she informed him. "Just tell me if we need to stop."
"But — hey!"
Azula straightened, lifting his limp lower body from the ground, and — with as much composure as she could muster, considering the indignity of the task — Azula began to drag Zuko across the ground like a disgraceful wheelbarrow.
His protests were almost immediate.
"Azula!" Zuko hissed as she walked forward. The ground was a bit uneven, with leaf litter and rocks and ashes from the recent fight scattered all about. She supposed that being dragged across it was probably somewhat unpleasant. "Wait — argh! Stop — just stop it!"
Azula sighed in exasperation as she took a final few steps. He was quite heavy, but even so, she was managing to push through that unpleasantness in order to get him out of here — he should be willing to push through, too. She did, however, yield to his request. She glanced back over her shoulder at him as she stopped, and noticed the likely irritant right away. The extended dragging motion had pulled his shirt upward, and it had bunched around his chest and under his arms, exposing his entire torso. The pink scarf that he wore as a bandage was still wrapped around his middle, but she noted that the movement seemed to have displaced it a little, as she could see the bottom of it beginning to fold over itself. His arms were stretched outward into a stupid position. He looked absolutely, one-hundred percent ridiculous. An inexplicable flush of awkwardness warmed her face.
"What," she muttered sharply, averting her gaze. "We've barely gone anywhere."
"Just … stop," Zuko growled. "Don't — can't you just go get Fluffy and bring our things here? We could sleep here tonight."
Azula huffed and released her hold on his knees. His heels fell into the dirt with a dull thud, and she walked out from in between his legs. "And just leave you here alone? That tavern isn't far back, and it was full of all sorts of seedy peasants. You could easily be kidnapped if someone finds you."
"We're barely even in sight of that place anymore," Zuko told her. "Nobody is going to come by."
Azula frowned. She circled around him, clasping her hands together behind her back. As she stopped at his side, she used the very tip of her toe to nudge his leg, wordlessly assessing his level of bodily control. It was an unnecessary act, as his incapacitation was quite obvious to her. He would never just lay there and allow himself to be dragged unless he was unable to do something about it; he didn't even try to scoot away. So pathetic. So undignified. Just above the pink scarf bandage, she could see the shadowed divot of his navel, leading up to the faint vertical indentation between his abdominal muscles. It wasn't anything she hadn't seen before — but regardless, it was embarrassing to look at him like that. She glanced away, glancing around at the darkness of the surrounding trees.
The moon was the only source of light. It was long, long past midnight. If anyone stumbled upon him like this, in the dirt, with his clothes all out of sorts, they would know right away that he could be preyed upon — nobody would just lay like that if they could do something about it. She didn't like it. He wasn't going to fix it. This had to be adjusted.
She crouched down beside Zuko. With an air of great professionalism and composure, she grasped the bottom of his shirt, all crumpled at his chest and under his arms. At the contact, Zuko's irritable attitude seemed to falter, unease overtaking his tone.
"Oh," he murmured; his face was tinged with scarlet. "You don't have to…"
In a quick, easy motion, Azula tugged his shirt down to its appropriate location, covering up his midsection and the pink cloth bandage around him. His eyes followed the movement of her hands, silent and round. She reached over him and pulled his outstretched arms downward as well; they were heavy. She dropped them at his sides, his palms falling to the ground. Now, at least, he looked fairly natural, with his arms laying at his sides. He was positioned like someone sleeping. Relaxed and unaffected. At least he didn't seem so undignified now.
"You could — you could get Fluffy and come back," Zuko continued, sounding rather hoarse. He didn't reference her actions. "You're fast enough that it would only take a minute."
"It would only take a minute for someone to pick you up and be on their merry way," Azula pointed out. She flattened her palm across the new wrinkles of his shirt, seeking to smooth the fabric and the imperfections. Her hand passed his heart. "It would be easy to take advantage of you in this condition."
"I'll take my chances," Zuko grumbled darkly.
She rolled her eyes. "Fine," she said, and she rose to her feet, turning her back to him so she wouldn't have to look at the useless state of him for any longer than necessary. "Call for me if you get into trouble."
"Alright."
Azula dusted her hands together and hastened away with her head held high. Turbulent apprehension remained in her gut as she sought out their ostrich-horse and belongings. Her heart pounded loudly in her ears with each hurried step; how could she focus on the success of this day when there were still so many steps remaining to get to the heart of their mission? More steps now than ever before.
7,505.
She wasn't even close to walking that many steps away from the tavern. With a hand up, a makeshift torch glowing in her palm to light the way, Azula began to count from this point forward. One, two, three … twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one… Just the thought of counting coins up to 7,505 was overwhelming. It was an extreme amount. It was so much. In setting up this bargain, were they just delaying an inevitable capture?
Sixty, sixty-one, sixty-two…
It felt like a lot of time had elapsed before she had reached Fluffy and then returned to Zuko … but really, it had only been 303 steps. This was barely even a fraction of the coins they would need to acquire. Not even close to half. It was just too much; how could she have agreed to this — but there had been no choice! What else could they have done? June would not have allowed them to walk free, knowing their bounties. Agreeing to such a price had been their only choice, in the position that they had been in, to maintain their freedom and the possibility of succeeding this mission. She had done what had needed to be done.
Azula held her hand up high, casting the light of her flame far across the ground, to best illuminate the space. Some gaps between the trees, a wide enough space to set a small fire, to lie down, to walk a few paces. Ashes and black marks all across the ground and trees where she had lit this place up, where she had built a fire wall to contain that woman. The earth was visibly uneven in places, some rocks scattered here and there. This area wasn't anything special, but under the present conditions, it would be adequate.
And here Zuko remained, just as she had left him, rooted to the ground.
He said nothing at her arrival, and she busied herself with setting up a meager campsite. She began to gather some twigs and broken branches from the surrounding area to make a small fire, the obvious first priority. Nothing too big, nothing to draw excess attention — just enough to light and warm the area. She realized that she would have to set up everything without Zuko's assistance. That was a bit of a nuisance. Zuko had been consistent about doing his fair share of work, and doing so without much question or complaint. She appreciated that about him. Now she was up to 319.
There was no way that she would reach 7,505 steps tonight, even if she tried.
Azula unstrapped the bags from around Fluffy's neck, moving them to her own shoulder. She withdrew the rope from within and tethered the ostrich-horse to a nearby tree. She retrieved a blanket and laid it out where she would sleep, the least rocky-looking portion of this area. 330. Monotonous work. She might insist that Zuko do all of this by himself tomorrow, in return for all of this work today. She draped the other blanket over her shoulder, hesitating as she glanced back to him. He hadn't moved a single inch. Of course he hadn't. He'll be down for the next few hours, June had said.
Hours.
The time was ticking. They had one week now, to earn 7,505 coins; in order to make that much money, they would have to attain over 1,000 coins per day, each of the seven days. That was going to be a lot of coins. If peasants were able to earn money like that on a daily basis through begging or entertaining or whatever, then they wouldn't be peasants. And even if they did somehow amass that money in such a short amount of time… how could they possibly transport it? They wouldn't exactly be able to carry it in their hands. That much money would never fit into their bags, even if they emptied out everything else beforehand. Perhaps they could hollow out a tree and store the coins within? Would that even be enough space? And even if it was … how would they adequately safeguard such a location? What if they had to leave town unexpectedly?
Was this even going to be possible?
Slowly, Azula approached Zuko, the back of her neck prickling uncomfortably with sweat. 336. She stood over him again, leaning forward into his immediate line of sight. He didn't ball his hands into fists, or sit up, or cross his arms to block her attention, to demonstrate that her scrutiny was unwelcome. That was what he would have done, she thought, if he was able. This lack of defensiveness was just so … unnatural. She pursed her lips as she looked down at him, as Zuko ignored her rather pointedly. It was long past midnight, and the deal had been made, and that was that. Now, it was time to rest. Obviously, this late night excursion had been beneficial, since they had found June after all … but spirits, it was late. She was tired — and he had to be, too.
She wondered what it felt like for him, to be in this condition. He looked just as typical as ever. The shadows under his eyes. The faded frown lines in his brow, nearly permanent. The dark waves of his thick hair. He looked just as he always had. It couldn't feel all that different from usual. His mouth was curved in such a sour way. It was interesting, she thought, that he was able to speak — and breathe, and look around — when everything else about him had been so thoroughly immobilized. She wondered how exactly this shirshu venom worked. Perhaps only the large body movements were impaired by it. Hmm. It was almost fascinating. All of the things that the Fire Nation could do, if they could freeze their enemies like this. She twisted her lips to the side as she pondered him, and perhaps tired of the scrutiny, Zuko squinted up at her.
"What?" he demanded sharply.
Azula shrugged a shoulder. "I was just looking at you," she explained.
"Well, stop it," he snapped. "This is humiliating enough as it is."
She rolled her eyes. Oh, Zuko. Always so dramatic. She pulled the blanket from her shoulder and shook it out, dust particles dispersing in the air. "Here," she said after a beat of hesitation, and she draped it over his body, covering up the imperfections and vulnerability of him. It was enough. It was more than enough. He was looking away from her, his lips pressed firmly into an almost pout. She dusted her hands together as if they were dirty, and she turned toward the small fire she had made. It was so bright, too bright. She could feel exhaustion prickling at the backs of her eyes. She could feel her joints creaking and her muscles throbbing with weariness.
"We have a lot to think about," she stated. "But it's long past midnight. So, first thing in the morning, we'll develop some plans to make money."
"In Ba Sing Se," he volunteered. "Uncle sang and danced for money."
He had said this before, she recalled, weeks ago when they had first started traveling together. It had almost been a joke to her, when he had said it. Did you? she had taunted. Oh, gods. The idea of having to do something so undignified made her insides curdle.
"How much did he make, doing that?" she breathed.
"Not much."
Azula sighed, vaguely annoyed. "That isn't very helpful, Zuko."
He sighed, too.
She closed her eyes, and she clasped her hands together behind her back.
She imagined them having to beg for money, alongside the unkempt commoners who had been loitering around that tavern's entryway. Oh, what a dreadful thought. Her throat was hurting. She did not want to do that. They needed to figure out something else; almost anything would be less demeaning. But they could figure out the logistics in the morning. A night of sleep might help in coming up with new ideas, so she wouldn't feel so ill-equipped to handle these circumstances. If anyone can figure something out, Zuko had just said to her, it's you.
You can do everything. She hoped that he was right.
He was right, she assured herself. She did always manage to figure something out. Stealing, lying, dancing, whatever … they would do whatever needed to be done to succeed in this mission. And in the event of a worst case scenario, it wasn't as though she was alone. It wasn't as though she was relying solely on her own mind to deal with the obstacles with which they interacted. She had Zuko, too. And Zuko was persistent and strong and always willing to fight. 7,505 coins would be nothing, nothing at all when compared to learning how to bend lightning at the age of ten. Compared to commanding her own troops. Compared to overtaking Ba Sing Se.
She had done the impossible before.
They would just have to do it again.
"Just get some rest," she told him. Keeping her eyes shut, Azula focused for a moment on only the warmth of the small fire. The blackness behind her eyelids didn't seem quite so oppressive, when in front of the bright flame like this. The darkness that had once swallowed her whole didn't feel quite so drastic, when there was at least some hope planted in her heart. Even if it was only a tiny seed anchored in with thin, fragile roots. Essential for its survival.
She heard Zuko speak, quiet and unexpected. So far away that she had to wonder if she was even dreaming it.
"Goodnight," he said distantly. "Azula."
"Goodnight," she echoed. "Zuko."
She put out the fire and plunged them into the dark.
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I hope that this update finds you all well. :)
I wanted to finish this sooner, but … LIFE. Things have been hectic. Plus, this was a super long and involved chapter (the longest I've written, so far!). Thank you all for your patience, and thank you for the messages! I know that I've said it before, but it really means a lot to me that so many of you are invested in this story. :) And of course, the special-est of special thanks to Aurelia le for taking the time to beta-read this massive chapter! Much love to you guys.
I have been waiting for so very long (years!) to get to this point in the story — and I am SO excited and thankful to be here now, posting this chapter! Please leave a review, and let me know what you think! Please. :D
See you next chapter!
:)