A/N: The Following is Rated E; for Explanations
It corresponds, chronologically, with the beginning of the final episode S3E18-21 "Sozin's Comet."
Reader discretion is still advised
Chapter 17 "Another Return"
Late Summer, Year 12 in the Reign of Fire-Lord Ozai
Zuko had never really been a fan of vacations.
As a child he had been taught, by observation and explicit instruction, that his training, and its accompanying grueling effort, were of the utmost importance. As such, the royal family's annual trips to Ember Island had always been accompanied by confusion and no small feelings of guilt. With no tutors to endlessly drill him in the finer points of bending and kenjutsu, Zuko had often fallen to simply wandering around the Winter Palace and the beach that was its front yard trying to figure out what he was supposed to be doing.
Which, in turn, made him feel even more ashamed. As though it were a test that he was consistently failing. As though he should know what to do.
Leaving the island and heading back to Otosan Uchi, on the other hand, had always felt like something of a relief. He was finally allowed to escape from the rigidity of dining room etiquette and the enforced tranquility required by close proximity to his honored grandmother. To finally leave behind the hours of pointless wandering. Certainly, his training was tough, but the grinding pressure and barked instruction were far more familiar, far simpler, and infinitely more comfortable.
But now, in the twentieth year of his life, as he contemplated the palatial beach house, his toes halfway in the black volcanic sand of the beach and his arms clasped behind his back, his friends and allies moving back and forth from the partially loaded sky-bison behind him, much like the waves crashing on the beach, Zuko was certain that he felt something other than relief.
…Reluctance? …Sadness?
Regret.
His perennial scowl deepened slightly as he contemplated the idea that he was actually going to miss this place.
"You're completely packed?" Katara asked as she came up beside him.
"For several hours now," Zuko said, restraining an eye roll and not turning from his contemplation as Sokka lumbered past him with yet another set of bags.
Katara laid her hand on his arm and he released it from behind his back and into her care without conscious thought.
"You alright?" she said, entwining her fingers in his again and looking up at him.
"…We will come back here," Zuko said after a moment. "You and I will… I mean… if… if you... want to."
"Of course we will. This place…" Katara gripped his hand tightly and leaned her head on his shoulder, "it's beautiful." She sighed and paused contemplatively for a moment before her eyebrows furrowed in thought. "…We're going to have to remember to do something about the roof though… and the dining room… and the color scheme."
Zuko snorted, shaking his head as she continued.
"…and Toph's room is an absolute disaster area. Maybe if we just- EEEP!"
She let out a surprised cry as Zuko, with a single fluid motion, turned and hoisted her bodily over his shoulder and began striding towards Appa.
"What are you DOING!?" She said, half annoyed half amused.
"Getting you out of here before you decide that we need to take up all the flooring as well," Zuko rumbled.
-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-
"'Oh, thou art such a villain! Thou hast stolen more than my fortresses, but my heart as well!' Izanami said, her magnificent ebon hair loose and flowing in the breeze."
Ash and burning bones, why did I agree to read this again? Zuko thought to himself, rolling his lone eye, for what could have easily been the thousandth time since picking up "Love Amongst the Embers." He glanced over at Katara, who had fallen asleep in Appa's saddle on his right and was now leaning against a similarly napping Suki. He sighed, then turned his eye back to the monstrosity that continued to masquerade as the Fire-nation's oldest and most beloved epic.
"'Verily, thou loverly wench! If only thy wit was as sharp as thy blade perchance thine fortresses would remain in thy care!' said Izanagi, his eyes gleaming bright as blades."
For the love of all our ancestors just… just KILL one another already!
"'I shall go then," Izanami said, her eyes locked on a point on the burning red horizon, "and verily shall I destroy those who call you Lord. Thus to free mine lands from thy vile and heartless tyranny!'
'A villain I may be, but a heart do I have," said Izanagi, growling like a wild beast as he clutched her to his bare chest.'"
And NOW he's lost his shirt somewhere? Spirits preserve me.
"'Mayhap I shall ne'er see thee again," Izanami breathed with a heavy sigh. 'Perchance I shall perish on the blades of thy miscreant band, my noble blood staining the soil with its perfect honor.'"
You… You just go ahead and do that.
"'NO!' roared Izanagi his wine-colored orbs affixed upon hers. 'Never shall that come to pass! No one shall kill you but ME!'"
Zuko rolled his eye for the one thousand and first time and shook his head. Honestly, how can anybody read this utter… wait a minute…
"'No one shall kill you but me,' Izanami whispered back in a breathless tone. Thus, their betrothal sealed, she tackled her villainous love to the earth and peeled him from his remaining clothes like-"
Oh… oh no. Oh shit! Shit shit shit! Katara read this? Zuko thought, a familiar panic settling on him as his eye darted back to her still sleeping form. Oh shit-shit-shit-shit-shit-shit-SHIT!
Suddenly the necklace tucked into his shirt seemed to weigh a million pounds once again as he contemplated the fact that the two of them, by longstanding Fire-Nation tradition, were technically betrothed to one another.
This… this is bad! I mean… not BAD, but… well… poorly timed? Maybe she doesn't remember? I mean if we're taking things slow… Damnit all to...
Zuko's brain slowly worked its way down from a frenzy as his eye found Katara, her long brown hair drifting slightly in the light breeze that penetrated Appa's natural airbending. Still alarmingly beautiful… despite her head lolling back, her mouth wide open and her snoring not unlike the sound of a malfunctioning steam engine.
…Ash with it. The very minute this war is over I'm asking her. Slow be damned.
-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-
The Sun was setting as Appa touched down, far more lightly than any creature his size had a right too, at Zuko's now mostly dried out war camp. He was almost immediately met by a team of now well-organized camp followers, who unloaded the party's luggage which had, in large part thanks to Sokka and Ty Lee's shared love of shopping, was actually larger than it had been when they had left. Rin, Haki, and Jee appeared in short order as well, bowing over their fists along with a few other general officers and giving brief status reports as they formally returned command of the army back over to Zuko. He in turn bowed, barked a few orders of his own and then, after a few less formal greetings, turned to find his belongings among those that had been unloaded.
He found them already being carried away by servants, and in their place, leaning against a lone hitching post in the middle distance, was Chief Shinjo Hakoda, icy blue eyes narrowed on Zuko, hands dragging a rather dangerous looking curved knife across a whetstone.
Ash. He knows, Zuko thought, stiffening slightly.
"Katara," Zuko said quietly, his eye still locked on Hakoda, "how angry are you going to be if I have to kill your father?"
Katara's head, which had been engaged in yet another muted conversation with Mai, whipped around as though it was on a swivel.
"What?! Why would you-" she cut off as she followed Zuko's one-eyed gaze towards her rather overtly murderous father. "Oooh," she said quietly, dragging the word out and wincing in an almost Sokka-like fashion.
In the sudden tense silence, the sound of Hakoda spitting on his whetstone, which he also managed to do in a malevolent manner, never breaking eye-contact, was quite loud. The continuous rasping of his gut knife against the stone was actually a pretty impressive piece of intimidation.
Truly a MASTER glowerer.
"Well," Katara said in a more normal tone, attempting to project unconcern for the homicidal intent radiating from her father, "obviously you are not allowed to kill him. Not only would you lose any chance of gaining the allies we need, but then I would have to kill you as well… or maybe Sokka would?" She shrugged as though the idea was ridiculous. "Either way we'd have to break up, and that is unacceptable to me at this point. You'll just have to deal with it."
There was another long beat of tense silence, underscored by the sound of steel on whetstone.
"How angry would you be… if I have to maim your father?" Zuko asked after a beat.
Katara just rolled her eyes. "No killing, maiming, imprisoning, or otherwise fighting with my father. Just... talk. All you have to do is explain things to him. Think of this as…" she hummed in thought for a moment, "training. Training for future diplomatic engagements. I have every confidence in you." With that, she bobbed up on her toes and gave Zuko a peck on his unscarred cheek before turning away to begin supervising the group trying to remove Appa's saddle.
"Katara, you leave me alone with him, he's going to try and kill me," Zuko said quickly, breaking eye-contact as he turned to face her.
"I have EVERY confidence in you!" she said, not even turning around.
Zuko sighed and shook his head as he turned back to Hakoda. To his surprise, the Unicorn Chieftain had frozen in mid-sharpen, and the level of malevolence had dropped by a significant margin as his eyes roved from Zuko to his daughter and back again.
Well, Zuko thought, squaring his shoulders, best get it over with.
And with that, he marched off into battle.
-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-
It, however, would not be gotten over with.
Zuko hadn't even been able to open his mouth, to try to begin to even find a place to start "explaining" things, when another dour-faced water-tribesman, this one in sky-blue, appeared at Hakoda's side.
"In the name of the Crane, northern brothers of the Tribe of Water, I greet you," Chieftain Doji Arnook said, the subdued scowl on his face at stark contrast with the seeming politeness of his words. "We thank you for the hospitality of your camp," he continued, bowing slightly.
"Oh. Yes. Of course. You are very welcome," Zuko said, his eye flicking between the two darker-skinned chieftains and bowing back by pure reflex as his brain attempted to shift gears.
"The Spirits willing, the Tribes of Water will be pleased to begin negotiations tomorrow morning. Sometime after the morning meal, I should think," Arnook continued.
TRIBES of Water? Zuko thought in confusion, his eye darting back to Hakoda and finding the man once again glowering, but this time at his northern cousin. Zuko had been under the impression that he had already concluded his negotiations with the South.
"That… is fine?" Zuko managed to hedge his tone between a statement and a question. "But… I have some… matters that I need to discuss with Lord Shinj-"
"Anything you have to say to Lord Shinjo, and to our sister tribe, you can say in front of me," Arnook insisted, not taking his eyes from Hakoda.
"I… would really rather-"
"It's fine, Prince Zuko. We can talk later," Hakoda said, also not taking his eyes from Arnook. "You must be tired from all your… travels." Something about the way he said "travels" made Zuko even more certain he had some idea of what had been going on between Zuko and his daughter while he had been away.
An idea that he was not particularly happy about.
"Oh… Very well. Later then," Zuko said. While he was not best pleased that he couldn't fulfill his promise immediately, Zuko couldn't help but feel slightly relieved to put off a conversation that he was sure would, not only be extremely awkward, but also had a high chance of him ending up dead, dying, and/or castrated at the end of it.
-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-
I don't care what Mai thinks, Zuko thought his lone eye focused on a cup of tea in his hands, I'm getting a wider table.
After the return to the war camp and the discovery of two angry Water-Tribe Chieftains in residence, Zuko discovered that, like many times before this, Mai had a plan prepared. Before he had even finished his brief, mildly confusing, initial conversation with the two of them, she had flown into a veritable frenzy of activity (albeit her standard calm and very dignified version of frenzy.) By the time Zuko made it to where his tent was being set up, an even larger meeting tent, the inside more decoratively arrayed than he would have thought possible given his previous military experience, had begun to be erected nearby. Ty Lee, who had placed herself in charge of the aesthetics of the operation, had later taken special pains to explain to him Mai's specific brilliance in everything from the placement of the tent to the size of the table.
The table, she had said, was key.
It was a small, if finely made, rectangular table of darker wood, the smaller ends of which, facing the entryway and the back of the tent, were just wide enough to accommodate one person comfortably. Zuko would sit at one end and Aang at the other. Two people would have had to cram into one another's space, and thus common courtesy would naturally force Hakoda and Arnook to sit at the longer sides of the table, facing one another and not allowing either to gain any unconscious advantage by being able to "gang up" on Zuko. It was, as Ty Lee said, a stroke of genius and just the kind of subtle machination that the Scorpion Dojo excelled at.
It also, unfortunately, proved to be entirely unnecessary.
The first day of "negotiations" was entirely wasted. After tea ceremony, once again performed in an exemplary manner by Ty Lee, Arnook spent the entirety of the morning listing the many and varied grievances that the Water-Tribes, and the world at large, had with the Fire-Nation. While Zuko felt little to no guilt over most of the accusations, he was forced to restrain wince after wince as Aang seemed to deflate at the listing of all the conflicts that he felt he was meant to have solved in his hundred-year absence. Hakoda remained silent throughout, cup of tea untouched before him, as Arnook droned on and on, beginning with territorial disputes that pre-dated the hundred-year-war, and ending with the Siege of the North… and the death of his only child.
That last left the tent in rather somber silence.
"You will forgive me, Prince Zuko, but I do not think I can continue further today," Arnook said, rising gracefully to his feet. "Lord Shinjo and I will retire, to hold conference with one another. We will resume tomorrow."
Then he remained standing there, only obliquely looking at Hakoda, but waiting for him to rise as well. Hakoda, lips pursed in seeming irritation, grabbed his tea, now cold, and slugged the entirety of it before rising, bowing, and departing with Arnook.
"Well… that could have gone better," Zuko said massaging the bridge of his nose after both chieftains had left.
"Yeah. I'm really sorry, Zuko," Aang said eyes still downcast. "I should have… If I hadn't-"
"Neither of us can undo the past, Aang. We can only work with what we have."
"Yeah… Let me talk to Arnook," Aang said, a smile reappearing on his face as he bent himself to his feet with a gust of air. "I'm sure we can figure something out."
But that night Zuko found Aang in the camp's training circle, firebending his frustrations out and away. Zuko's silent question was met with a brief shake of the head.
Apparently the Avatar, last hope for peace in the world, had less sway with the dojo of the Crane that he had expected.
The second day of negotiations proved no more productive than the first.
Every suggestion Zuko or Aang made, Arnook seemed to object to. Every reference to Zuko and Hakoda's previous agreement was dismissed almost out of hand, or flatly ignored. Zuko became increasingly convinced that until Lord Doji's tribe was included in the arrangement somehow, everything previously negotiated was considered null and void by the northern chieftain. The only bright spot in the gloom was that Hakoda seemed as frustrated and annoyed as Zuko was.
Annoyed, but seemingly unable to do anything about it.
Zuko attempted to seek the man out afterward on that second day, not only to fulfill his promise to Katara, but to try and privately discuss the situation with him. The camp seemed even busier than he remembered it, a ringing sense of tension having fallen over it like a fog. Unicorn samurai in purple glared at blue-clad Crane who, in turn, stared daggers at the larger contingent of red and black Fire-Nation soldiers. Everywhere he went Zuko felt as though he was being watched, his position marked.
Given that, it came as no surprise at all that every time he sought out Hakoda he found Arnook there as well.
The third day dawned with Aang's absence, and with an argument.
After tea had been served, Hakoda finally broke his silence. He quietly outlined the arrangements he had made with Zuko and offered several suggestions as to how parity could be achieved with the North. Arnook, less subtly than before, dismissed this as irrelevant and suggested that, if the Tribes were to act in concert they would have to negotiate in concert as well, without fear or favor to one or the other.
Zuko sat silently as the two older men, first in calm and cold tones, then with raised voices, argued with one another over the matter of tribal sovereignty. It had the sound of an argument that had taken place already but had never been fully resolved. While it was never stated outright, it was now obvious Arnook believed that, as his tribe was the larger, it was the superior tribe and should take the lead in everything from negotiation to governance. Hakoda, less subtly, was of the opinion that, as his tribe had done the bulk of the fighting and suffering in the current war, they should receive the majority of the reparations and that they were in no way subservient to the north.
Zuko barely got a word in edgewise as the two chieftains grew increasingly frustrated and increasingly strident in their arguments.
The day ended with less than nothing accomplished.
Even Mai was at a loss to formulate a plan. In deference to the Crane's somewhat ridiculous belief that women had no place at the negotiating table, she had been secreting herself behind one of the painted screens at the back of the meeting tent. Even listening to everything, she admitted that she did not know enough about the Northern Water-Tribe to offer any concrete suggestions. As well, she had also thus far been thwarted in learning anything useful from those few Crane samurai that Arnook had brought with him.
It was however clear to her what Lord Doji actually wanted; the nullification of Zuko and Hakoda's previous agreement. He would not negotiate for the use of his, ostensibly larger and more valuable, waterbending forces without wiping the slate clean for the entirety of the Water-Tribes. While this might have been more practical, the North was the larger and more powerful tribe, Zuko could not abandon his sworn agreement with Hakoda unless the other man agreed to it; something he would most certainly not do. In all honesty, Zuko did not want that either, despite Mai's protestations. Hakoda had fulfilled his end of the arrangement after all, and to abandon him now, allow him to be essentially cast to the wayside for a "better" deal, was not only disingenuous but dishonorable as well.
The fact that Katara would be rather cross with him was also a matter for concern, and so in deference to all those factors, Zuko both meditated and argued with Mai for most of that night, trying to find a solution.
The current day, the fourth day… was turning out to be a complete disaster.
Zuko had actually had rather high hopes when Sokka, normal cocky grin on his face, had entered the tent with his father. While Zuko was still at a loss to explain it objectively, the man had a way of diffusing tension and making things, if not necessarily productive, then at least less tense and more entertaining.
Those hopes were quickly dashed however when Sokka's grin turned to a scowl at the sight of a square-chinned man who trailed into the tent behind Arnook.
The Crane Chieftain had apparently felt that, if Hakoda was bringing his son and heir, he should do so too.
So Arnook's adoptive son Kakita Hahn joined the negotiations…
…and somehow made everything infinitely worse.
So now Zuko sat at one end of the low table sipping at his tea, the feeling of a slight headache brewing behind his mismatched eyes, contemplating furniture choices, as all four of the Water-Tribe samurai stood shouting themselves hoarse. Currently Hakoda and Arnook seemed to be debating whether hiding for the duration of the entire war constituted cowardice, while Sokka and Hahn argued about who exactly was to blame for failing to protect Princess Yue.
And then, as bad situations always seemed to do in Zuko's presence, somehow things got worse.
"What in the FROST do you all think you are DOING?!" Katara shouted, storming around the painted screens at the back of the tent where Zuko, until that very moment, had thought only Mai was.
Oh ash, Zuko thought, restraining another wince in the sudden stunned silence.
"Sifu Katara," Arnook said, recovering quickly and tossing a polite bow her direction. "I apologize for the disturbance, but there are matters being discussed here that-"
"Are ENTIRELY irrelevant to the situation!" Katara said, cutting him off, her hands now on her hips. "I cannot believe all of you! Here you stand, the leaders of our people, bickering over NOTHING while out there our enemies gather." She jabbed a finger at her father. "It does not matter if Chief Arnook or his predecessors preferred defense over offense, they are here now." Her finger snapped to Arnook like a flag in a sudden change of wind. "And you, Chief Arnook, have no right to claim we must be unified in action! When my grandfather came to your father for aid and was turned away, you lost that right." Her hand went back to her hip as she turned to lecture the group at large. "We are the Water-Tribe, the Moon and the Sea, the push and pull, the ones who adapt and persist… and yet you sit here, squabbling like gulls over rotted fish as the yurt melts around you. We are better than this. At least, I thought we were."
This was followed by a long silence, and three pairs of blue eyes on the ground in shame.
Wow, Zuko thought, fighting to keep his face impassive. I should have brought her in here two days ag-
"What is she doing in here?" Hahn said cutting off Zuko's thought with a snort and a scoff.
"I am here because you idio-"
"Yeah, nobody gave you permission to talk," Hahn said dismissively. "Maybe you should take your opinions back to the women's hut and keep them there? Or, if it would be faster, maybe you just want to skip that step and go straight to this one's tent?" he said indicating Zuko.
Oh… fuck, Zuko thought as the room froze once again into even more brittle stillness.
"Maybe that's how your tribe conducts diplomacy," Hahn continued, seeming ignorant of the sudden look of horror Arnook shot his direction, "but we in the North aren't just going to send our women to kneel down and suck this baby-burner's coc-"
He was cut off as Sokka lept over the table with a roar and socked him square in the jaw.
Amid the eruption of swearing and shouting… Zuko focused on his tea.
His uncle had always said that tea was a sublime mystery, a fusion of art and poetry to soothe the mind and bring peace to the spirit.
Zuko still wasn't quite certain about that, but he now found that by, focusing on the hot leaf juice, swilling the dark debris at the bottom of the cup as his hand shook with restrained rage, it certainly served as a distraction.
Something to focus on.
Something other than getting up and slaughtering every Crane he could find, starting with Kakita Hahn.
He took another sip and ignored the continued swearing and the sound of impacts as Sokka and Hahn continued tussling with one another on the floor of the tent. He instead contemplated three things; his tea, the feel of Katara's nervous hand on his shoulder in preemptive restraint, and the absolute fury boiling inside him.
It was remarkable. Not even a month ago he'd have almost certainly lit Hahn, Arnook, and likely a large part of the tent on fire at even a hint of the insult that Hahn had just delivered. Now the rage still seared across his veins like acid, filling his vision with redness as the SONG roared in his ears… but without that thing in his head, without it pouring further bile into his heart, he managed to simply sit in still rigid contemplation of his rage, Katara, and his tea, until the shouting was replaced by the heavy breathing of men still on the brink of violence once Hakoda and Arnook had managed to separate their heirs from one another.
"Doji. Arnook." The words ground out of Zuko like grist from a mill, filling the tent with a new humming tension. "How dare you bring this… creature into my camp."
"Prince Zuko… I regret that young Hahn has-"
"This… honorless creature has dishonored you, your Tribe, and your people as a whole," Zuko continued, barreling over Arnook's pathetic attempt of an excuse, his lone eye still fixed on his teacup as he spoke in a low growl. "You have insulted me, my people, my allies, my sworn battle-brother, and now, most importantly… the woman I love."
If silence could deafen, none of them would ever have been able to hear again.
"As such, I find you and yours unacceptable as allies. I will fight this war, and I may die, but I will do so with honor. If… this is the best you can find to lead your people after your passing… then we can find no common cause." With that, Zuko downed the remains of his tea and, after placing the empty cup on the table, rose to his feet, finally fixing the Crane Chieftain with his lone, now nearly glowing, yellow eye. "Go back to your city, Crane… and hide," he snarled. "Hide and pray to the spirits that I… never have any reason to see you again."
Arnook sighed slightly and bowed to Hakoda, Zuko, and Katara, managing to seem genuinely apologetic, before moving to exit the tent. Hahn rose to his feet as well and, after wiping a bit of blood from his broad jaw, moved to follow.
"Where do you think you are going?" Zuko growled.
"Wha-" Hahn barely got a syllable out before Zuko, shedding Katara's hand and stepping forward in a long fluid stride, advanced and backhanded him so hard it took him right back off his feet again.
"I did not give you permission to go ANYWHERE," Zuko said his voice rising to a roar as he stood over the shocked form of Kakita Hahn. "NO ONE offers such disrespect without consequence! At the edge of this camp you will find a blackened ring of dirt. I will see you there, with your sword, at sundown… unless you are as cowardly as you are dishonorable."
With that, Zuko stalked out of the meeting tent past a wide-eyed Arnook.
Back to his tent, to meditate and prepare for a duel.
-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-
As was now typical, Katara entered his tent not even a heartbeat behind him.
"Really, Zuko? We're not back a week and already you're about to kill somebody for me? I thought we were past this! You can't solve everything…"
Zuko exhaled a long, nearly fire-laden, breath before turning to face her. She stood before him, hands on her hips, a radiantly beautiful, furious creature, with a worried frown on her face as she continued to rant at him.
"… it had to be done," he said simply, managing to squeeze the words in after she paused to take a breath.
"Had to be? Zuko, I do NOT need you to fight my battles for me. I am perfectly capable-"
"Of course you are."
"He… he insulted me! I should be the one who… who…"
"He insulted everyone in that tent, myself included. I just got to him first." Zuko grinned slightly as he stepped closer to her. "If you want to challenge somebody, you have to move faster than that."
Katara's mouth dropped open in surprise, but she still managed to retain a rather cross look in her eyes.
"Besides, of all the people in there," Zuko continued, "I am probably the best equipped to fight him in a formal duel."
"You don't think that I can beat that frostbitten piece of slush?"
"On the battlefield? Without question. But this is a duel, and he is not a bender. It will have to be steel, Katara. And while you are much better at that than you once were…" he left the rest of the implication, that her martial skills were primarily defensive and thus less useful, unspoken.
Katara exhaled in a huff and her face transitioned to one that was less angry and more simply worried. "I don't like it."
Zuko snorted in amusement. "I noticed."
"It's stupid, and wasteful, and entirely counter-productive."
Zuko only nodded.
"I just wish…" She sighed again, seeming to deflate slightly. "I just wish we weren't fighting amongst ourselves when there's a real enemy to fight. This… this is all my fault. I should have never-"
"This is not your fault," Zuko growled, taking her by the shoulders. "This is Lord Doji's fault." Katara cocked her head to the side in a question and he continued. "He's been delaying the process ever since he got here, and while I doubt he intended for that… ash-stain of a creature to say… that… provoking either myself or your father to violence would have allowed him to negotiate from an even greater position of strength. Or to simply leave, honorably, without committing to the conflict." Zuko snorted again in somewhat bitter mirth. "Unfortunately for him, he chose the wrong tool for the job."
They stood still for a moment, Katara's up-turned grey-blue eyes searching his face. "…are you going to kill him?"
"That is generally what happens in a duel," Zuko growled, images of the many ugly and vengeful things he would like to do to Kakita Hahn dancing through his head.
"You… you can't just fight to first blood?" Katara asked, wincing as though she could see those thoughts written on his face.
"That… is permissible. But… Ash and bone, Katara. He… he called you…" Zuko ground his teeth as his eye fell to the ground. "He called you a whore. Right to your face. A month ago I would have probably burned him and Lord Doji alive, right there and then."
"But you didn't," Katara said softly, and her hand came up to cup his scarred face. "You didn't, and I'm glad."
Zuko, still slightly embarrassed at the inclination, closed his eye and leaned his mangled nerve-damaged face into her palm like an affectionate puppy, letting it rest there for a long time.
"…what do you want me to do?" he said eventually.
"I want… I just want you to remember that compassion is just as important as honor and duty, and that, although they might not agree, we are all on the same side here. Ok?"
"…I will," Zuko said, and resting his hand on hers he pressed a kiss to her palm.
Katara beamed at him and seemed to be on the brink of saying something else… but the both of them froze at the sound of a clearing throat at the entrance to Zuko's tent. Zuko's eye snapped open to find Hakoda standing there, a half-contemplative, half-angry look on his weathered face as he stared at the two of them.
Katara turned her head, saw her father, and then turned a rather vibrant shade of puce. Head down and eyes on the ground, she quickly walked past her father and out of the tent. Both men watched her for a moment before Zuko turned to a still silently watching Hakoda.
"You know, she used to tell me everything," Hakoda said, still watching as she sped down the dirt track away from Zuko's tent. He slumped slightly as he said it, suddenly seeming much older. "She used to talk and talk and talk, about every little thing that came into her head. What happened to that little girl?"
Zuko, who both had no answer, and assumed that the question was rhetorical, said nothing.
Eventually, Hakoda straightened up and turned back to Zuko, his eyes going hard, albeit not nearly as hard as they had been in days previous.
"You meant what you said? Back in the tent?"
"Yes."
"I meant the part about…"
"I love your daughter."
Hakoda sighed again and shook his head. "She… she is an adult… I suppose, she can make her own decisions. I'm just… disappointed. Why didn't… why didn't one of you tell me? We might have avoided all of that in there had I known before I went north."
"I… well… our relationship has been… ah… turbulent," Zuko said, floundering in the face of everything that had transpired between Katara and himself. "We weren't… before you left… I mean… before that… uh…"
"She seemed like she hated you," Hakoda offered. "I thought it was just because you're Fire-Nation. Her mother… This war has affected her, and me, very personally."
"I know and… I am sorry that… That sort of thing is not supposed to happen."
"And yet it does, and did." Hakoda's eyes grew hard again. "Tell me how you think you're going to solve it."
"Leading by example… and killing those who behave without honor."
"Well, I liked about half of that answer," Hakoda said with a frown.
"Criminals should receive justice, and I will not suffer the honorless to continue breathing. What Commander Jitsuyoteki did was both a crime and a stain on the honor of the Fire-Nation."
"Commander… Jitsuyoteki…" Hakoda said quietly, his eyebrows climbing up his forehead.
"Former Commander."
"You… you know his name?" Hakoda said, suddenly stepping closer, his ice-blue eyes going cold and flinty once again.
Oh damn. I suppose nobody told him that either.
"He… is dead. I killed him myself."
Hakoda's eyes went wide and, as though in a dream, his hand drifted to the collar of Zuko's uniform.
"Did… did it hurt?" his voice was still quiet, but now carried the rasping harshness of restrained fury.
"No." Zuko said it softly, immobile, his face wooden, ignoring the clenching fist at his collar.
"Why NOT!" Hakoda snarled, his fist tightening.
"Because your daughter offered him mercy."
Hakoda blinked and slowly his fist uncurled from Zuko's uniform.
"…Why?" he whispered seeming stunned.
"Because she is a far better person… than either of us."
Hakoda's hand dropped to his side and he shuddered slightly as he took a step back.
"I suppose she is at that." He turned to leave but stopped in the entryway of Zuko's tent. "I don't know that I like you very much, Akodo Zuko."
Zuko only nodded.
"If you hurt her…"
"There is a line actually."
Hakoda turned all the way back around and cocked an eyebrow.
"There will be a rather long line of people after my life should I hurt her. You may negotiate with them as to where you fall in it. I believe your son has a schedule."
Hakoda snorted and actually found a half-smile.
"…Try not to die in a few hours? If Katara kills that icehole over you, I'm pretty sure we're all screwed."
"I thank you for your concern," Zuko said and bowed.
-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-
A circle of candles burned in the dimly lit tent, pulsing rhythmically in time with Zuko's breathing as he emptied his mind of distractions.
It was remarkable how much easier this was nowadays.
While it had not ended ideally, the ridiculous waste of time that had been "negotiations" was over, Zuko's promise to "explain" things to Hakoda was fulfilled, and, while he knew that he was unusual in this, the promise of a good fight had always had a steadying effect on him.
And this would be a good fight it seemed.
After Hakoda had departed, but before he had begun his meditations, Sokka had slipped into the tent somewhat nervously.
"Ah… so… I'm sorry. About… all of this. I suppose that-"
"Is it a Unicorn custom to try and apologize for things that are not their fault, or just a Shinjo one?" Zuko asked, a hint of levity in his voice as he continued preparing the space for his upcoming meditation.
"Uh. Well. No. But, I really should have kept my head in there. Aang thought I'd do a better job than he'd been doing, but, well…. I really didn't do a good job of keeping things calm."
"True. But I have often found that calm is vastly overrated."
Sokka snorted at that and shook his head. "Really? I'd never have guessed," he said sarcastically.
There was a moment of silence as Zuko finished placing his candles.
"Was there something else?" Zuko asked. "While you are always welcome, it is my tradition to meditate alone before a duel."
"Well… yes. I… Look, Hahn is an idiot, but he's… he's a Kakita. You know that they-"
"Invented Iaijutsu," Zuko said quietly. "I know this."
"Hahn… he's an idiot," Sokka repeated a pensive frown on his face, "but he's pretty good. Fast. Arrogant about it, but fast. Real fast."
Zuko nodded thoughtfully, the speed was an expected obstacle. Even after several generations of isolation the speed of the Kakita dueling school was still known, even in the Fire-Nation. But that Hahn was also overconfident was useful information. Arrogance could always be used against an opponent.
"Anything else?" Zuko asked, head bowed slightly in thought.
"Yeah," Sokka said, his hand on his chin. "He used to do this thing… You know how, in most speedy-sword-slice moves, the blade is going to travel-" he moved his hand, miming drawing a sword from his belt and drawing a path in the air from Zuko's right hip to left shoulder- "like that? Well, he's got this move where, because he's so fast, he can go from top to bottom instead." He drew another arc, going from Zuko's right shoulder and down to his opposite hip. "I don't know if he'll go with that, but…"
"But it is something to keep in mind," Zuko said nodding slightly, then bowing. "I thank you, battle-brother."
Sokka grinned at him in response and Zuko, as was becoming usual, felt a matching grin appear on his own mangled face.
After a few more quiet words of caution, Sokka left, leaving Zuko to his meditations and contemplation of the upcoming duel.
He considered what he had seen of his opponent, of Kakita Hahn. The way he had walked, the way he had moved, the way he had spoken. There was a rhythm there, in his demeanor, in his way of being, and Zuko meditated on it for the few hours that remained to him before he would be fighting the man.
The flames of the candles surrounding him pulsed with his breathing, still in time with his heart, a thudding drumbeat, slow but powerful. He let his mind drift to the circle of blackened dirt at the edge of the war camp, fixing it, and his opponent, in focus.
There were momentary interruptions. Brief flashes as the words that Hahn had said, and had not managed to complete saying, flitted their way into the stillness of his mind. Images of Zuko's truly desired responses, Dragon's Breath consuming the fool as he screamed, a blade of fire sweeping up and carving him in half, he contemplated briefly, accepted, and then shoved down into the slowly growing red mass of animalistic fury at his very center.
Fury held in check. Fury carefully controlled. Fury forged into a weapon and honed to a razor's edge.
A weapon that would remain in its sheath. Undrawn until it was truly needed.
-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-
The training circle was surrounded.
Had Zuko a mind to, he could have craned his head around to see the several hundred people that had turned up for his duel, a mix of reds and purples and sky-blues. Could have seen Toph tapping her foot, frustrated by the current inaction, could have seen Doji Arnook standing directly across from him, hands in his adjoining sleeves and a look of profound solemnity on his face, could have seen Aang bobbing up and down, torn between his desire to interfere, to bring peace without bloodshed, and his understanding that now was most certainly not the time.
He could have seen Katara, intermittently looking cross, worried, and embarrassed, standing in between her identically stoic brother and father, her eyes either fixed on him or anywhere else, torn between concern and unfounded guilt at the whole situation.
Zuko could have seen all of this, but then he would not have been appropriately focused.
He would not have been Akodo Zuko.
For Zuko, in this moment, the only things that existed in the world were himself, Kakita Hahn, the katana at their sides, and the nearly infinite permutations of actions and reactions that those things could be involved in in the next few moments.
Iaijutsu was, to the uninformed outside observer, a rather simple-seeming affair. Two samurai would watch one another for a moment, standing not even three paces apart in a centered stance. Then, seemingly at the same moment, they would shift their stance, draw their swords, and strike. They would barely even have to take a step forward to do so, so close were they to one another.
Like a turtle-duck gliding along the surface of a still pond, most of the activity was beneath the surface.
That initial moment was one of silent calculation and a potent battle of wills, as much an artform as calligraphy or ikebana. The two samurai stared into one another, assessing and assaulting one another's focus and morale with aggressive concentration and silent poise. Many iaijutsu duels even ended here in the initial assessment, without a single blade being drawn. All either of them had to do was dip forward in a bow, walk away, and the duel would be concluded. That person would be the loser of course, but both would be able to keep their lives and, for the most part, their honor intact.
But Zuko would have sooner cut out his only remaining eye than bow here, in essence agreeing that his Katara was a whore.
And it seemed that, as Sokka had said, above all other things, Kakita Hahn was arrogant.
Zuko could have seen it even without Sokka's prompting but, forearmed with the knowledge, he was able to focus on the minutia instead. Even here, in a war camp of the Fire-Nation, his adoptive father staring balefully at the back of his head, Hahn expressed nothing but absolute confidence, his posture light, loose, and upright.
Sokka had also said that he had an unusual maneuver, that he would do a downward stroke, using his exceptional speed to make up for the extra time it would take to move his blade upwards, and thus be able to bypass any standard defensive measure that Zuko might have adopted.
But would he use that maneuver?
If he knew that Sokka might have told Zuko about it, would he instead go for the simpler, faster, and no less deadly lower strike?
That would have been the safer, more conservative thing to do.
But Hahn was arrogant, and it seemed to radiate out of his every pore.
The confidence of a man who thought he knew a secret that no one else knew.
As both men concluded their assessment, and neither had bowed, they both slid into the ready stance, left foot slightly back, hands on the hilts and scabbards of their katana.
Waiting. Watching. Wondering.
It was Hahn's thumb that truly settled things.
Typically, in a ready stance such as this, the thumb of the left hand, the one gripping the scabbard of the blade, would be tight, clenched, subtly pressing against the guard and easing the blade down and outwards, making it easier to draw.
But Hahn's thumb… was loose.
Loose because he would be drawing the blade in the upward motion that Sokka had described.
Which, now that he knew about it, was exactly what Zuko wanted him to do.
Iaijutsu was, by its very nature, fast. Too fast to make adjustments once the blades began to move. Too fast to make changes once committed. Too fast to even see the danger before it was too late.
Kakita Hahn was ready to strike from above. Akodo Zuko was ready for it.
The path was set. All that was left was to set things in motion.
There was absolute stillness on the dueling ground. The stillness of every storm in the world about to crash into one another. The momentary stillness of a tsunami cresting and blotting out the Sun above an unsuspecting village.
The stillness of the heart in between one beat and the next.
…and Zuko shattered that stillness, with a single harsh exhale from his nose.
The sound of it was minuscule, but nearly deafening for the two men locked in the silent battle of wills. They both flew into action, time seeming to slow to a crawl with the intensity of their focus.
Hahn was fast.
His blade was all the way out of its sheath, rising past his ear like a hunting bird taking flight and descending in a downward arc toward Zuko before he even had his own blade halfway out of its sheath.
But that was fine. Expected.
It was fine because Zuko's first real move had been to simply slide his right foot further right, moving the entire profile of his body to Hahn's left, the complete opposite of a normal response.
And so Hahn's sword… missed.
It blurred past Zuko's scarred face by the barest finger-width, rustling his short-cropped beard like a sudden ringing gust of wind. As it traveled past the half-way point of its arc Zuko's sword was finally clear of its own sheath and arcing its deadly way towards Hahn.
The last two inches of the blade, the sharpest and deadliest part of the weapon, finished its journey and slid through Hahn's broad chin without resistance, continuing upwards through his lower lip and finally arcing a significant fan of blood past his left ear.
That eternal stillness returned, brittle now, both men frozen in the final posture of their strikes, the only sound the miniscule drip of blood off the tip of Zuko's sword, impacting the ashy ground.
Atypically for such a duel, neither man had established whether this was meant to be a duel to the death, or simply to first blood. If either of them moved towards the other now the duel would resume, descending into a simple brawl, a fight to the death. So, now neither of them moved a muscle and for another moment a new stillness was born.
Born from Katara's request for compassion.
Zuko waited, still as a statue, single yellow eye locked on a widening blue pair, and left the decision, and the consequences of it, in the possession of one Kakita Hahn.
The little world, the one that only held the two of them, once again held its breath.
And then… whether it was simply a stunned reaction to the pain now blossoming in his face, or an act acknowledging his defeat…
Kakita Hahn took a step back.
And suddenly, with the ringing crash of a gong, that still quiet world that had once only contained two samurai evaporated, the setting Sun illuminating the silent looks of triumph on the faces of Zuko's allies and bitter disappointment on the faces of the few Crane in attendance.
Zuko flicked his sword to the side removing the few remaining drops of Hahn's blood from the tip and then rammed the blade home in its scabbard.
"Get out of my camp," Zuko growled.
And with a look of utmost shock, Hahn did so, blood now streaming down his chin and soaking into his rapidly darkening kimono.
As Zuko turned around to leave the training circle, only barely managing to keep a grin from his face as he caught sight of a beaming Katara, he was caught up short by the sound of a throat being cleared.
"Prince Zuko, I, and all of the Crane, owe you a debt of gratitude," Arnook said, his voice pitched high and loud enough to be heard by all those gathered. "We thank you for your honor and your mercy." He bowed slightly.
Zuko, still half turned away, did not bow back. He simply stood motionless, his one eye narrowed and his near-perpetual scowl back in place.
"As well, the Crane must apologize to you, Sifu Katara," Arnook continued, turning slightly and bowing to Katara as well. "Young Hahn's words were… ill-mannered, and most unbecoming of a samurai."
Katara, seeming a touch surprised at both the admission and the sudden attention of the assembled crowd, stepped forward into the blackened circle of earth.
"Uh… Yes. Very ill-mannered," she said.
"I must also apologize for myself as well. This is twice now that I have required your… intervention to see that which should be plain." Arnook bowed again, deeply this time from the waist.
Why is he doing this? Zuko thought as Katara bowed back somewhat hesitantly. Why in front of everyone?
"I have been told," Arnook continued, "that, while you were named a master by Sifu Pakku, you have not, as of yet, mastered the healing side of our arts as well. As such, if it pleases you, Master Healer Yugoda-" and here a stooped but smiling older woman stepped to the front of the crowd of blue-clad Crane and waved at Katara- "has requested that she be allowed to finish your training… here… among your… allies."
"Yes! Of course," Katara said happily, beaming and waving back at the woman.
"Master Yugoda is our greatest healer and teacher," Arnook continued, now speaking to Zuko directly. "As such, she cannot be parted from her students for overlong. I am told that they are at a delicate stage of their training and so, if it is acceptable to you, they should accompany her."
Wait… is he saying?
"Our healers are our greatest and most treasured resource, Prince Zuko. As such, with your permission, I, as their chief, must stay and see to their protection, along with… a few honorable samurai. If…" and here Arnook's blue eyes seemed to bore into Zuko's, "that is acceptable to you."
Zuko turned all the way around to face the older chieftain and finally bowed back.
"It is most acceptable," Zuko said, only barely failing to restrain a grin.
-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-
Campfires burned with a remarkable intensity that night, seemingly made stronger and brighter by the sounds of revelry that filled the war camp.
Standard issue Fire-Nation military discipline had been given a brief holiday as the legionnaires, prompted by the Avatar himself, aided and abetted by their new Unicorn allies, and permitted by their commander, celebrated Zuko's victory and the successful completion of an alliance that they all knew raised the chances of their long-term survival from slim to middling.
Arnook, whether because he was ashamed of Hahn's words, or his subsequent defeat, had consented to acknowledge Zuko and Hakoda's previous agreement in full. He still refused to personally ally himself with the nation that was responsible for the death of his beloved daughter, but he was now willing to give Zuko, or more technically Katara, half of what they wanted; a strong and dedicated medical core, as well as a small samurai contingent that would see to their protection.
As such, the camp, in the full knowledge of what a tremendous boon this was, was now in full celebration. Curfew was canceled and the sake rations had been doubled. After apologizing, pointlessly Zuko thought, and congratulating him on his, mostly, bloodless victory, Aang had leapt into the fray attempting, he said, to see if he could break his previous record forlargest number of Fire-Nation soldiers dancing at once.
And then the Unicorn had rolled out and assembled their drums.
The multitude of fires seemed to shudder and shake at the thunderous booms of the enormous wood and rhino-whaleskin o-daiko drums, and as the night carried on, and the sake stores steadily consumed, the celebration grew even more raucous. Even in this festival atmosphere, it had taken several hours, bottles of sake, and an impassioned, slightly slurred, appeal from Sokka regarding honor, to get Zuko on his feet and a pair of drumsticks in his hands.
And another pair in Hakoda's.
They had started slowly at first, both of them testing the other's skills, then passing a series of rhythms back and forth, eventually growing in speed, volume, and complexity until the two of them found that strange musical synchronicity that comes from shared skill and unified effort. The loud whoops of the Unicorn samurai, Sokka, Suki, Toph, Ty Lee, and a few of the more inebriated of Zuko's officers, pealed through the firelit dark, joining the revelry around them and driving the rhythm onward and upward.
Even with that remarkable shared focus Zuko almost lost his grip on the drumsticks when he caught a glimpse of grey-blue eyes glinting out of the shodowy dark, watching, an almost hungry look in the smile below them.
In hindsight, it was unsurprising really. The taiko drum was traditionally played shirtless after all and Zuko was nothing if not a fan of tradition.
Although it seemed like an eternity to him, Zuko quickly handed the drumsticks off to a reeling Sokka who, now several bottles in himself, insisted that he could "figure it out, well enough." With most of the attention now on Sokka's amusing, and very drunken, attempts to find any discernible rhythm Zuko had slipped away from the fire, now pursuing that pair of eyes, which wound their way through tents and other fires…
…Back to his tent.
He finally caught her, no more than a dozen paces from their eventual goal.
"Missed… you," Zuko said in the fevered space between kisses. The two of them, in deference to the many and varied complications surrounding the war camp, had seen very little of one another in the last few days.
Katara did not respond with words but with a rather pleased sounding throaty chuckle, and by dragging him by the belt further towards and within Zuko's tent, pausing every few steps to kiss him rather vigorously.
It was a testament to how much they were enjoying themselves that it took the current inhabitant of Zuko's tent, a cup of sake in her hand and her boots on Zuko's writing desk, two attempts, with increasingly loud throat clearing, to get their attention.
"So…" June the bounty hunter said, a wry smile on her pale face as Zuko and Katara froze mid-kiss, "I see you worked things out with your girlfriend."
There was only the briefest hesitation before Zuko lunged forward, attempting to put himself between Katara and the bounty-hunter with unknown intentions.
This was made rather problematic, and rather ridiculous looking, as Katara, for likely similar reasons, whipped water from her waterskins and attempted to do the exact same thing at nearly the same time. The two of them bumped into one another, several times, before settling into similar cautious postures, side by side.
"You two are just too precious," Jun said, leering at the two of them over her boots. "If I was here to fight, I wouldn't have announced myself, would I?"
Zuko and Katara eyed one another for moment before Katara spoke up.
"Then what are you doing here?" Katara asked, her still lightly flushed face turning downwards into a scowl.
"At the moment? Just enjoying the scenery," June said, her yellowish-brown colored eyes flicking to a still shirtless Zuko.
Zuko frowned and cocked his head to the side in puzzlement. The valley outside of Gaipan where they were currently camped was not best known for its scenery. Katara simply scowled more deeply and took another step, putting herself between Zuko's bare chest and the smirking woman now sipping at her sake cup.
"That, and delivering a message," June continued, shrugging unconcernedly. She downed her remaining sake, and settled her boots back on the floor before pulled out a sealed scroll from a pouch at her back.
"I had not thought you a messenger, Ms. Kinshoko," Zuko said, his one eyebrow rising in skepticism.
"And I hadn't thought to see a Sengoku, but here we are, all expanding our comfort zones," June said with a small frown, tossing the scroll down on Zuko's desk where it landed with an odd thump.
"The sender?" Zuko asked, stepping around Katara and picking up the scroll.
June's frown deepened into a very real scowl.
"Your creepy grandpa."
A/N: …
Guess who's back?
Back again?
Dappers BACK.
Tag a friend.
Well, so… it's been… a minute (/winces)
In the ongoing study of writing and reading fanfiction my watchword has always been "learning." Learn the process, learn the style, learn (in some rudimentary way) about yourself. So NOW I at least have a greater understanding of why dead-fics are a thing.
STOP IT. You're freaking out. This is NOT a dead-fic. Not even a zombie-fic.
So, let's get too it shall we, that thing that I've been re-hearsing in my brain for… what 8 months maybe?
I am so sorry.
Pfew! Feel better already.
I wish I had some sort of real tangible excuse for disappearing. That I got hit by a bus, or got married, or even that I just stopped liking writing. None of those, especially that last are true.
I will now tell you a story, a true story. The story of how Dapper lost his groove.
I, as you may recall (or read about in previous Author Notes) had finals week coming up. I needed to study, because, well DUH. I figured everything would be fine, sure I would be a whole month between posts, (we were supposed to be biweekly back then) but surely the summer vacation would prove no obstacle to my amazing hobby.
And honestly, it wasn't.
I just sat down at my computer and pulled up this chapter, which was already about 30-40% done and looked at it.
And looked…
And looooooked…
And got nothing.
My muse, such as she is, was gone. My mojo stolen, my chutzpah vamoosed, my mania settled.
"Not a big deal," I said. "Come back tomorrow, and try again."
So I did. To no great effect.
I might have written 100 words that month. Just raw slamming my head into the keyboard of life. I was frustrated, as you should expect, and so said… "I'll come back to it later. Just let the dust settle. You'll get it back."
And so months passed.
I contemplated updating the series page, or publishing a "sorry this is taking so long" chapter, but rejected those. I'm not the one to get your hopes up and then dash them with excuses. If you would have preferred that, I apologise, but that just isn't the way I roll.
"So, what finally did do it?" you are likely asking.
And so I'll tell you.
It was you.
Yes you, right there, with the face.
I do not say this in any attempt to engender commentary, but it was straight up comments and reviews that dragged my happy ass back to the keyboard.
Which segues me nicely into phase 2 of the apologies. All those unanswered comments which are littering my inbox.
Sorry about that too.
I really LIKE answering comments and reviews and such. You may have noticed that. But I certainly wasn't going to do that when I knew I had nothing in the tank. I refuse to positively reinforce my own ineptitude.
Anticipate THAT being rectified.
I wish I could tell you exactly what combination of comments, music, and caffeine-induced mania it was that got me back on the wagon. I feel like if I can crack that, then all of lifes problems will be solved, by me, on the back of a napkin in the local eatery.
So, that's the story. It isn't that good, but it's true. Which, I suppose, gives it a quality of its own.
For those of you who forgive me… I've got something special for you…
It'sssss…. META-BITS
ORBS: The brief snippets of "Love Amongst the Embers" is my nod to all those truly trashy romance novels out there, and a little dig at myself for all the cliched tropes I love to use. Calling eyes "orbs" seems to be one of those things that is a cliched "bad writing trope" here in the fan-fic-verse so I threw that in to. Because I like throwing things. In a very literal and figurative sense.
Shovel/Knife talk: Hakoda really isn't the, "nobody touches my baby girl" kinda guy. However, he comes back to camp only to hear rumors, 3rd or 4th hand rumors, about all the noise that was coming from Zuko's tent for a few weeks. Hears that his daughter, who he was pretty sure hated Zuko more than anything else in the world, is now making loud noises with him. Reports are UNCLEAR, and now the blaggard has absconded with her to… NO ONE KNOWS.
So yeah, he's in a murdering mood.
Then he sees that Katara's, not only safe, but giving Zuko the same peck on the cheek that Kya used to give to him. He is confused, but now less murdery.
So there's that.
Katara and Mai: Now that Mai has reestablished her place in the celestial order that is the royal family, she has decided to address all those problems she mentioned 2 chapters (and 11 months in real time. Again, so sorry) ago. She is giving Katara the crash course in "here's how you survive when you're a queen." Katara, because she is not an idiot, is going to listen and adapt whatever Mai teaches her to suit her own needs. Expect to see those to kibitzing more and more in the background.
The Crane Catastrophy: What is Arnook's deal? You likely ask yourself as you're reading this. So I, dutiful (if slightly absentee) author that I am explain.
He wants the Fire-Nation to destroy itself.
Yeah. Heavy shit.
When Hakoda shows up in the North he, at first, basically just tells him to fuck off. Politely of course, but the message is the same. Hakoda, who knows how critical this is, refuses to fuck off, and after a few weeks of prodding Arnook sees an opportunity.
Pretend to come to negotiate, get Zuko to nix the deal with Hakoda (proving that all foreigners are dishonorable and untrustworthy), then just leave. Thus leaving the rebels with nothing and eventually getting to watch Ozai kill his own son (which to Arnook at least is a pretty terrible thing.)
Obviously, this doesn't work.
So, to get himself out of it he instructs his heir, Hahn, to do the thing that Cranes do.
Namely, insult someone subtly, act surprised when they react, then duel them.
To the death if possible.
The problem is that Katara, BAMF that she is, rolls out in front of him with the shouting. The same shouting that she used when Yue was around, and that Yue quietly agreed with.
So he is embarrassed, and about to admit that he really can't give Zuko what he wants…
When the time-bomb named Hahn goes off.
Hahn is an idiot, he only learned the sword stuff and not the talking bits, so right when Arnook is about the apologize, says something really fucked up.
You can imagine how ashamed Lord Doji is at that point which is why he sortof manipulates himself. Gives Zuko (really Katara) some of what they need to survive this.
Honestly it's the least he could do.
Hakoda and Kya: Honestly it's one of those travesties of this tale that more people don't get to react to things. Obviously, the Southern Raiders (which we all love) was only going to be about Katara. Sokka had to be left behind for narrative reasons, he already GOT his life-changing field trip.
But nobody EVER tells Hakoda.
You remember him? They guy who left his home behind to avenge his wife?
What does HE think about that?
I only regret that I don't examine it EVEN MORE closely.
Duels: Flat out, Hahn is a better duelist than Zuko. He's faster, he's a non-bender so he never had to divide his attention between multiple disciplines. What we have here is what, I consider at least, to be the perfect illustration of why you can't be a one trick samurai.
Zuko probably would have lost if not for Sokka.
Hell he might have lost if Katara hadn't asked him to show compassion. Hahn might have easily rallied and then used his superior speed to great effect.
So you need all the things (compassion, friends, good observation) to be a great samurai, which, I mean, come'on, Zuko is.
He's the protagonist after all.
State of the Fic: She is STILL not done.
Yes, I am disappointed too.
I had wanted to get the rest of it done before making my (semi-)triumphant return but only yesterday that same creeping bullshit "staring at my screen to no effect" happened.
So, we're throwing things out there (you know how I love the throwing.)
I am in first draft (means WILL be published soon) up to chapter 20.
21 and 22 (and possibly 23) are in shambles still but, with any luck my muse will remain on site until I get them done.
I have no publishing schedule in mind, I'm just going with the flow here. As soon as they're ready you'll get them.
Should something happen know that it is not because I WANT to stop, I just have no control over my muse anymore. She's flighty. Currently trying to coax her back with good music AND by doing all this throwing.
My baby loves the throwing
Thanks for reading. Again and again and again.
.
.
NEXT TIME on a very special "Avatar: The Last Dragon"...
Zuko meets exciting new people and DOESN'T kill them.
TUNE IN. Who knows what Zuko time, but same Zuko channel!
Original post date: 8 Feb 2020