"Er...Zuko?" Aang asked hesitantly when it became clear that Zuko was not going to be forthcoming with introductions. "Who's this?"

"My apologies, Avatar Aang," Jee replied, bowing his head. "My name is Jee, formerly a Lieutenant in the Fire Navy and now an agent of the White Lotus."

"Huh." Sokka said. "You defected?"

Jee nodded.

"Prove it."

Jee was far too professional to show it, but Zuko could see the faint twitch at the corner of his right eye- a sure sign he was a little insulted at the lack of trust. He reached into his robe, slowly and deliberately, before pulling something small out and showing it to the group: a lotus pai sho tile.

Sokka pulled out the one he kept stored in his own pack, the last relic of the supplies gifted to them all those weeks ago- now that both Zuko dao and Sokka's sword were no doubt locked away in some weapons vault deep in the bowels of the Fire Nation palace. Sokka looked between the two tiles for a long moment, before nodding cautiously.

"Alright," he said slowly, watching Zuko out of the corner of his eye. "I'll bite. You're with the White Lotus. So what do you want with Zuko?"

"I'll tell you everything, I promise," Jee replied, tucking the tile back into the folds of his robes and glancing distractedly down the road. "But first, we need to get out of the open."

Sokka snorted. "Not until you tell us what you want with Zuko."

Jee's eye twitched again.

"Roku said we should trust the White Lotus, Sokka," Aang cut in. "We should listen to what he has to say."

Jee bowed to Aang once again, acknowledging the support.

"Thank you, Avatar. We are a few miles from our rendezvous point; if we set off now, we should be there within the hour."

Sokka turned to look at Zuko, arching an eyebrow.

"You okay, man?" He asked pointedly. "You know this guy, right? You trust him?"

Up to this point, Zuko had been happy to let the others handle the conversation; he didn't think he'd have been able to get a word out if he tried. His brain was stuck on a constant cycle of 'What the fuck?' and 'Jee's alive?' and it didn't show any signs of letting up any time soon. He'd been grateful that Sokka had bought him a little time to get his head on straight, to try and shake off the shock that Zuko knew was plastered on his face. It seemed, however, that Zuko's time was now up. He needed to leave the safe confines of his own head once more and face the latest curveball life had just thrown straight at his face. Fuck.

"We can-" Zuko coughed, the tightness in his throat choking his words. He stopped, swallowed thickly and then tried again. "We can trust him."

That seemed to be enough for Sokka, even though he shot Zuko a very concerned look before turning back to the others.

"Alright then," he said to Jee, "take us to your safe house or secret camp or whatever, and then you can tell us what in the name of Tui and La is going on."

"It's a long walk," Jee said pointedly, ushering them over to the edge of the road and up to the tree line. "I'll tell you on the way."

He pushed aside the branches, which shifted with surprising ease, and then beckoned them to follow him off the road. They found themselves, to Zuko's surprise, at the top of a large hill with miles of terraced paddy fields stretching out below them.

"I apologise," Jee said, ruefully glancing down to the thick crust of mud at the base of his white robes. "I did say it was a long walk."

"We'll make it," Katara replied, shoulders set and water pouch still tight in hand.

They set off in single file, Zuko behind Jee and the others falling in line behind them, with Sokka manning the rear. It was awkward going and Zuko had to fight back the ridiculous fear that someone was going to trip and send them all tumbling down the hillside. Honestly, if anyone amongst them were to trip, it would probably be him.

"So how do you know Zuko?" Aang spoke up as soon as they had made it the first few yards down the path.

"Well-" Jee began, but glanced back, looking to Zuko as if not certain how much he could, or should, reveal.

"He was in the camp with me," Zuko explained.

Jee nodded tightly and turned back to scanning the route ahead of them, constantly alert to potential threats. If Zuko had ever been in any doubt about the man's military credentials, watching him lead their rag-tag patrol would have set him straight immediately; Jee even breathed like a soldier.

"Awh," Sokka said and let out a chuckle. "So you were prison buddies?"

Under normal circumstances, Zuko might have cracked a grin, but he was too focused on Jee to appreciate Sokka's attempt to ease the tension.

"I thought you were dead," he said instead, staring at his old friend.

Jee didn't flinch, but his shoulders did tense, jumping briefly up towards his ears, before he forced them down into his usual military posture. He didn't acknowledge Zuko; he kept his eyes dead ahead, carefully picking out the thin pathway between the water-logged fields on either side of them. After a long moment, he raised his head and glanced back over his shoulder at Zuko.

"So did I," Jee said, his voice hoarse. "After the attack, the fire…" He cleared his throat. "There was so much smoke. I couldn't breathe. I remember falling over- I thought I was done for. I don't know how I survived, but when I woke up, I was in a barn. I'd been found by some locals who thought I was a soldier; they'd nursed me back to health for a week whilst I slept."

"I dragged you," Zuko said quietly. Jee turned to him, a deep crease between his eyebrows. Zuko cleared his throat and elaborated. "How you-uh-" Zuko coughed again "-how you survived… We were crawling, but the smoke was so thick. You collapsed and I dragged you for as long as I could."

Jee turned back to the pathway. It was eerily quiet; the only sounds were their squelching footsteps and the soft wind stirring the grasses.

"What happened to you?" Jee's voice was little more than a whisper, but even with Zuko's bad ear it may as well have been a shout.

"I fell," Zuko said simply, forcing himself to ignore the enraptured silence of the others at his back.

"Well" he corrected himself, "we fell. I don't know how far… We must have reached the edge of the mountain, but I couldn't see it through the smoke. I lost my grip on you when we went over. I thought you were dead."

Zuko's left foot landed in a deceptively deep puddle, dirty water splashing up and soaking him almost to mid-calf. He barely noticed.

"What happened then?" Jee asked, his voice oddly distant, as though he already knew the intelligence, but was just waiting for the report to confirm it.

Zuko took in a deep breath, focusing on the uncomfortable feeling of cold, damp fabric against the skin of his leg to ground him in the moment.

"The earthbenders found me," he admitted.

Jee glanced over his shoulder once again; his face was like stone: impassive and very, very pale. Zuko swallowed heavily and forced himself not to think too deeply about the words he was relating.

"They were rounding up survivors."

Jee turned back to the path, his hand reaching out to dance through the grasses alongside them.

"Were there many?" He asked, after a long moment.

"There were."

Zuko didn't elaborate, but Jee understood all too well what had gone unsaid. Zuko's mind threw up a vivid image of that young guard, battered and bruised after the tender affections of the Earth Kingdom interrogators. He wondered if that boy's family was still looking for him.

"I thought Sokka's dad rescued you from the camp?" Aang chimed up. Zuko shook himself, forcing his thoughts away from that particular strain of morbidity. It wasn't helpful to dwell on things that he couldn't change- it would only drag him down in the long run.

"Chief Hakoda was working with earthbenders," Zuko explained. "They had a mole in the camp who identified me to their leader. That's how Hakoda found out who I was."

Jee startled, coming to an abrupt halt and turning round to face Zuko fully. He looked surprised- for what was quite possibly the first time since Zuko had known him.

"A mole?" Jee asked sharply. "Who?"

"Remember Shao?"

Jee shook his head.

"The one in my work group?" Zuko tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice; Jee was a military man, he would want a proper, professional debriefing and Zuko would give him the best attempt he could muster. Even if the acrid stench of smoke was still filling his nostrils… He shook himself and continued. "He was new, kept losing his pick axe?"

Jee frowned as he thought, clearly racking his brains for some sliver of recognition, but he shook his head.

"I don't remember him. I'm sorry." He turned back around and pushed forwards along the path, his pace slightly swifter than before.

Zuko shrugged. People came into the camps all the time and disappeared from them almost as frequently. What was one more hollow and pinched face amongst dozens?

They continued on in silence for a few minutes, carefully picking their way through the twisting paths that meandered through the terraces towards the base of the hill. They were about halfway down by now, and Zuko's shoes were damp and heavy with mud; he knew the others wouldn't be any better off, but no one was complaining.

"So how did you end up working for the White Lotus?" Toph asked, after a few more minutes- hitting on the question Zuko had been trying to work out how to ask since the moment Jee had pulled out that pai sho tile.

"Well that is a tale and a half," Jee replied with a hefty sigh. "But it's not mine to tell."

Zuko's blood ran cold for a moment.

"Then whose is it?" Katara's voice cut through the air, before Zuko had a chance to speak.

"I don't have clearance to-"

"Were you there for Zuko?" Sokka asked, drowning out whatever Jee had been about to say.

"What do you-"

"In the camp," Sokka clarified; his voice was like stone. "Were you there for Zuko?"

Jee was silent for a long time. Zuko felt like the ice in his chest was crystallising into splinters, piercing into his lungs and clawing up his throat.

"No," Jee said finally. "No, I wasn't."

Zuko let out a long, shaky breath. He couldn't have said which answer he'd have preferred.

"So, why were you there?" Aang asked. Zuko could picture the Avatar's puzzled frown without needing to turn round to see it.

Jee let out a long sigh, tilting his head back and gazing up at the sky, as if asking Agni for patience. Zuko knew the feeling all too well.

"There was a battle," Jee replied finally, his words clipped and unemotional. "At the North Pole. I'm sure you remember it?"

There was a sharp intake of breath somewhere over Zuko's left shoulder. He knew vaguely what had happened at the North Pole; Sokka had told him long ago. Some over-promoted asshole had killed the moon spirit and the Avatar - not Aang, Sokka had been quick to add, not exactly, anyway- had joined forces with the ocean spirit and decimated half the Fire Nation fleet. They had never spoken about it again, after that, but Zuko knew that it was something the young Avatar had never fully come to terms with.

"We remember it," Katara said coldly.

"I'm sure," Jee replied sharply, and then took a deep breath. When he continued, his voice was much calmer. "My ship was…under orders…from another power in the Army. We weren't under Zhao's command." Zuko noted Jee's admission of rank ahead of Zhao's name, speaking of just exactly how much contempt the former Lieutenant had for the man. "We were ordered to abandon the fleet. We were spared the massacre, but were all arrested soon after for desertion."

"But you were following orders," Sokka chimed up from the back. "Isn't that, like, what you're supposed to do?"

"Our commander disappeared in the battle." Jee's voice was becoming curter; the conversation was clearly straying towards areas where he didn't feel that comfortable. "It was only that he'd been spotted fighting on the wall that we weren't put to death for mutiny."

Zuko scoffed. "They sent you to the camps," he sneered. "There's not much difference between that and a death sentence. Not in the long run, anyway."

Jee hummed thoughtfully. "No, my Prince," he said quietly. "I suppose there isn't."

"So why were you ordered away?" Sokka asked, his voice contemplative. "Why didn't your captain want you involved?"

"General," Jee corrected sharply, and then took a deep breath. "And that story is for the Grand Lotus to tell." He peered back over his shoulder and fixed them all with an inexorable look. "You'll have to wait until we get back to base."

They had reached the bottom of the terraces and Zuko took a moment to catch his breath. It was hard work traipsing through the mud, and the air was thick and humid, making it difficult to breathe.

"How much further is it?" Katara asked, taking a deep sip from her flask and wiping away the sweat on her forehead with the back of her hand.

"Another few miles," Jee replied. "Though it's mostly flat from here out."

Toph let out a low moan, complaining about her aching feet. The others didn't look too impressed either. They had been running for hours only the day before; it was hardly surprising that everyone was exhausted. Zuko was feeling the strain himself.

Still, Sokka rallied the group and they were soon traipsing along behind Jee on a narrow and twisting path that ran through the base of the valley. Toph groaned loudly as they went, still complaining about her aching feet. Somehow, and Zuko was not entirely sure how it happened, he ended up with Toph's arms cinched like a vice around his shoulders, as he gave her a piggy back for the last part of the journey. Not too long after, Aang finally gave in to his own exhaustion and, with cheeks redder than the Fire Nation flag, asked Sokka if he could have a piggy-back ride too.

They weren't walking for too long, all things considered, but it felt like hours. Toph's weight on his back made each step in the sodden earth more precarious than before, and Zuko had to keep a careful watch on his footing so that he didn't slip or stumble and send them both splattering in the mud. At least the strain of the exertion was taking up too much of his energy for him to worry too much about just who this Grand Lotus was, or what his shady organisation wanted with Zuko and the others, or how Jee had miraculously survived and come to their rescue. There was no further conversation, and Zuko could only assume that the others were struggling just as much as he was. By the time that Jee finally called them to a stop, Zuko was breathing heavily and sweat was pooling uncomfortably at the back of his neck. His thoughts, which had grown blessedly calm, began churning in his brain once again, sending a dull thrum of anxiety through his chest.

He shook Toph slightly, and she stirred awake.

"We're here," he muttered.

She let out a jaw cracking yawn and released her grip, sliding off his shoulders to land with a squelch on the ground below.

They were stood in front of a large bamboo fence. It was about seven feet tall and twenty yards across and held together with tightly woven rope. It spanned the distance between the bases of two large hills, with no obvious gate in sight. To a passer-by it would appear to be the boundary fence of a local farm; there was nothing particularly special or suspicious about it. It was utterly, eerily inconspicuous.

Jee walked up to it and knocked a couple of times. There was no reply for a few moments and then voice called out from behind the fence.

"If you're after the chickens, it's the next farm over- couple of miles on down the path!"

"I'm reporting back," Jee called back. "I have them."

There was another moment of silence whilst the voice processed this and then, with the soft click of a latch, a section of fence swung inwards. A woman's face peered out at them, one eyebrow raised and a slight smile on her lips.

"Jee," she drawled. "By all means, come on in." She stepped aside and swung her arm extravagantly, ushering them in like a particularly obsequious butler.

Jee replied with an exceedingly polite nod and led them through the gate and into the surprisingly large and well-maintained camp beyond. Zuko edged away from the woman and the borderline vicious look she was directing at Jee and took to surveying the base of the mysterious White Lotus.

They were in a large field, dotted with several white canvas tents, all in varying sizes and shapes and with some far muddier and bedraggled than the others. The place lacked the precise layout of the Water Tribe camp; instead it looked more like people had pitched their tents wherever they felt like it, or whenever they happened to stop. It also seemed, judging by the varying condition of the canvas, that there was quite a lot of movement in the camp; some showed signs of having been there a long time, whilst others had evidently just arrived.

At the far side of the field, Zuko could make out another large fence, this one almost double the width of the one they had just come through, and with a large gate in the middle. There were figures walking up and down alongside it, their slow pace and marked path suggesting that they were the camp's main guard. The fence spanned the distance between the two large, looming hills that flanked the camp on either side. It was, by now, early afternoon, and with Agni high in the sky there wasn't too much of a shadow cast over them, but within a few hours the camp would no doubt be significantly darker and colder.

Zuko took a few moments to pick out what looked like the mess tent, and the larger tents behind a grazing ostrich-horse which were probably for supplies, before searching out possible escape routes. The hills weren't too steep; he could probably climb them if they needed to make a quick getaway- that or Toph could bend a tunnel for them. Zuko did trust Jee, but he still wasn't entirely sold on the secret organisation that had apparently recruited him. He also very much didn't like the sound of this Grand Lotus figure, in his experience authority was never a good thing, particularly authority which had a pressing interest in him.

A sudden thud sounded out from behind them, making Zuko jump a few feet in the air and spin around, heart pounding. The woman at the gate gave him a quick glance of apology as she slid the bolt in place over the now-closed gate.

"The Grand Lotus is waiting for you," she said, turning to Jee. She looked him up and down. "You took longer than expected." She turned to Zuko and bowed. "My Prince." She then turned to Aang and bowed again. "Avatar Aang. Welcome to our camp."

Zuko shifted uncomfortably, but nodded back politely. Beside him, Aang did the same, rather ruining the effect by rubbing at his eyes with the back of his arm.

Jee turned to her and held her gaze for a few seconds. She didn't look away.

"Where is he?" He finally asked.

"His tent," she replied. "He's anxious to see Prince Zuko."

Zuko flinched. He took a few deep breaths. There was no reason to be so nervous, he reminded himself. Jee wouldn't walk him into a trap; if he'd wanted him dead, he could have killed him months ago, left him to the flames that had devoured so many other lives on that horrible, Agni-forsaken night. Still, nothing good had ever come of Zuko being called to an audience. He took a few deep breaths and tried to force his jaw to unclench. Sokka came over and quietly stood at his side, giving him a few moments and a comforting presence to ground himself. He caught Zuko's eye and gave him a soft smile and a nod. It would be okay, Zuko reminded himself. Even if the White Lotus turned out to be enemies after all, he wasn't alone. Not this time. He had his friends with him and together they'd escaped worse.

"Let's not drag this out any longer," the woman replied, giving Jee a dark look. "Why all this cloak-and-dagger business is necessary…"

"Aren't you, like, a secret organisation?" Sokka asked, his smile widening. Zuko couldn't appreciate the irony; his stomach was in his shoes.

"Can it, smartass," she told him, without looking away from Jee. "This was cruel."

Jee bowed his head but didn't reply. Instead, he ushered Zuko and the others off into camp, heading into the camp proper. A few men and women stopped to peer at them curiously as they passed, a few ever bowed, but Zuko barely registered them. He was exhausted and anxious, the collected events of the past few days weighing down upon him so heavily that it took most of his effort to remember how to keep breathing and put one leg in front of the other. No more than a couple of minutes later, Jee led them around a dying campfire and to the entrance of an inauspicious-looking tent.

When they reached the flap, Jee cleared his throat loudly, seemingly unconsciously settling into parade rest.

"Prince Zuko and his companions are here to see you, Grand Lotus," he called. There was a long pause, and then a low, slightly-rasping voice called out from within.

"Come in."

Zuko knew that voice. He swore he knew that voice. Without waiting for Jee to respond, and entirely uncaring of manners, he lifted the flap and tore into the tent.

There, sat cross-legged on a reed mat and sipping from a cup of tea, was his Uncle Iroh.

Zuko skidded to a stop. Behind him, he could sense the others piling in, calls of concern and alarm ringing out at his sudden movement. Sokka grabbed at his shoulder, the one on his good side, but Zuko just shook his head, staring in incomprehension at the man before him.

"Oh," Katara said, voice laden with confusion. "It's you."

"You've met?" Jee sounded surprised.

"He's helped us a few times," Sokka said, his hand tightening on Zuko's shoulder. "With Zhao…and with Azula." He let out a shaky breath. "He was with us when Ba Sing Se fell."

"So you're the head of the White Lotus?" Aang asked, sidling up to Zuko's right. He spoke loudly and telegraphed his movements, but Zuko still flinched. "It makes a lot more sense now, why we kept seeing you."

"I am," Iroh replied. He set his tea to the side and rose smoothly to his feet. "I am glad to see you are all well." He was healthier than Zuko had last seen him, slimmer and with more muscle to his frame than fat. Zuko flinched again as Iroh stepped closer, his eyes fixed on Zuko's face. "Prince Zuko," he smiled, "it is so good to see you again."

"Hang on- you know Zuko too?"

Zuko froze, but didn't take his eyes off Iroh. His uncle turned to Toph with a fond smile.

"Yes, Miss Bei Fong."

"Huh," she replied. "Small world."

Iroh let out a soft chuckle and then turned his attention back to Zuko. His eyes danced over the scar and his smile dropped.

"I must beg your forgiveness," he said softly, stepping closer until he was just out of arm's reach of Zuko. "For so many things, nephew."

Zuko knew that the others reacted to that, he could hear their shocked intakes of breath, could feel Sokka's hand tighten on his shoulder until his fingernails bit into Zuko's collarbone, but it was as if he was sensing everything from underwater, or through smoke. Everything felt indistinct and insubstantial. His ears were ringing. His uncle stepped closer yet again, and Zuko flinched back, wrenching his shoulder free of Sokka's grip and making Sokka stumble and almost overbalance.

"Nephew," his Uncle continued. Zuko flinched. "I am sorry for the subterfuge. I..." Iroh looked dismayed, his hands fidgeting as if he was holding himself back from wringing them. "I had hoped this would be a pleasant surprise."

Zuko shook his head slightly. His hands were shaking. He shoved them behind his back.

"Do we need to leave?" Sokka had come to stand at his side and was leaning in to whisper in his good ear. "We can go if you want to?"

Zuko shook his head again. No, he didn't think they should leave. He was just shocked. His Uncle had always been good to him, well, as far as he could be anyway. They'd shared tea a few times in the gardens and Iroh had never once hit him. He wasn't scared of his Uncle. It was just...

"You turned traitor?" The words had left Zuko's mouth before he could stop them. He froze, and watched Iroh intently for his reaction. His Uncle smiled sadly.

"I saw what our family had done to this world, nephew," Iroh said softly, "and I chose my path many years ago." He stepped back a little, his hands dancing at his sides as if he wished to reach out, but was holding himself back. "When your father…" His eyes flickered over Zuko's scar. Zuko flinched. "After the Agni Kai, I left the Fire Nation for good. I've been heading up the White Lotus ever since." He smiled tightly at the others. "As you may have realised, we are an ancient and secret organisation, seeking to aid peace and encourage communication across all four nations."

Toph snorted. "You're doing a great job."

"Peace requires balance, Miss Bei Fong," Iroh replied. "And for a long time this world has been without it. But, with the return of the Avatar, there is new hope for an end to this war and a return to harmony between all nations."

"You turned traitor?" Zuko repeated again, still stuck on the idea.

His Uncle, the Dragon of the West, the man who had thrown fire and lightning at the walls of Ba Sing Se, who had slain dragons and brought the Earth Kingdom almost to its knees… was a traitor? He couldn't quite believe it. Of course, his Uncle had gone a bit…off… after the death of Lu Ten, abdicating the throne and halting the attack on Ba Sing Se. Sure, there had been plenty of people who had whispered in the halls of the Fire Nation Palace that General Iroh had lost his nerve, but Zuko would never have expected the man to become a pacifist. He was the last person Zuko had expected to see heading up a peacekeeping mission and actively seeking to end a war he had been helping wage for so many years. The hypocrisy stirred the embers of Zuko's temper.

"I did," Iroh replied, smiling at Zuko.

"How long ago?" Zuko found himself saying. "At Ba Sing Se? After? Was it when he took the throne?" He sucked in a breath, his words coming out almost as hisses. "What about in that war room?" Iroh closed his eyes. "Or was it only when you couldn't hide from what a monster Ozai is that you decided to do something about it?"

"Nephew…" Iroh trailed off, his face looking impossibly sad.

"Come on guys," Sokka's voice cut through the silence. "This is a family thing." He started ushering the others out of the tent. "Let's give 'em some space."

One by one, the others ducked back out of the tent, until it was just Jee and Sokka remaining.

"If you need us, yell," Sokka said to Zuko, before glaring steadily at Jee. After a long moment, Jee acquiesced and stepped out of the tent; Sokka followed him, closing the flap behind him. "Seriously, just yell," he said softly, as the fabric slid shut. "We'll come running."

The silence that they left in their wake was so thick and unpleasant that Zuko felt as if he might choke on it. Iroh watched him closely for a few moments, before walking off to the back of the tent and pouring two cups of tea from a pot on the side table. There were several cups laid out along with some hotcakes and sticky rice balls; Iroh had clearly been expecting to entertain them all as guests.

"It's chamomile," his uncle said as he walked back over and held the cup out to Zuko. "That was always your favourite."

"Thank you," Zuko replied automatically. His father had always been strict about manners, especially amongst the Royal Family.

"You are welcome," Iroh replied. He took a sip of his tea. Zuko followed suit. The silence fell heavy between them once again. Iroh sighed. "I have gone about this all wrong, nephew," he said, frowning down at his tea. "Some secrecy is necessary in an organisation such as this, but perhaps I should have let Jee tell you immediately. I had hoped…" He glanced over at the food on the side. "Well, you always liked it when I surprised you as a child."

The simmering anger in Zuko's stomach rose up, licking at his chest and lungs; it burnt.

"It's been a long time Uncle," Zuko rasped. "I'm not a child anymore."

"I know," Iroh smiled sadly. "I did not mean to imply that I thought you were."

The silence fell over them once again. Zuko took another sip of his tea. His Uncle was right; he did like chamomile. It was calming. Usually. So why was it only making him angrier now?

"Will you answer my question?" he asked quietly, watching Iroh out of the corner of his good eye. "How long have you been working for the White Lotus?"

Iroh took a sip of his tea. He looked up and met Zuko's eyes squarely.

"Since I abandoned the siege at Ba Sing Se," he said simply. "Since-" his voice cracked slightly "-since, Lu Ten." He watched Zuko closely. "Is that the answer you wanted to hear, nephew?"

"So all that time?" Zuko said softly. "All that time you were working against grandfather, against him?"

Iroh took a sip of his tea.

"I didn't think you would mind that too much, nephew," Iroh said gently. "It fills me with great pride that you have come to do the same yourself."

Zuko let out a choking laugh.

"I don't care that you were working against Ozai!"

"Then what is it, nephew?"

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" Zuko shouted, the words far too loud in the small space of the tent. "I could have…I could have helped you, or something. You could have told me and I wouldn't have…" His hand rose up, fingertips trailing the rough skin of his scar.

"You were a child," Iroh said after a few minutes. "And you were loyal to your father. To the Fire Nation. I didn't want you to get hurt."

Zuko let out an incredulous laugh.

"Well that didn't matter in the end, did it?" He snarled, his good eye stinging with the threat of tears. "He still…" He let out another harsh laugh and turned away. "He tried to kill me and Sokka this week. He shot lightning-" Zuko cut himself off with a shaking breath, fat too aware that that particular trauma was far too fresh to even think about, let alone discuss.

"You saw him again?" Iroh asked in alarm.

Zuko reluctantly nodded, still keeping his gaze away from the searching eyes of his uncle. "We were in the capital…one of the soldiers recognised the…" He trailed off as a sudden thought hit him like a snake bite, sudden and sharp and spreading it's venom through him until the burning was all he could think about.

"Zuko…?" Iroh prompted.

"You know," he began, turning to his uncle with a vicious grin on his face, "I just realised something. You betrayed the Fire Nation for years and no one noticed a thing. I spoke out of turn once and got branded." Iroh flinched. "There's something ironic about that."

"Nephew," Iroh began, putting down his cup and stepping closer to Zuko. "I am so sorry. I-"

"Did you even look for me?" Zuko cut across him. The white rage driving him to rudeness he wouldn't once have dared. "Afterwards. Did you even care if I was alright?"

Iroh stepped closer, looking aghast.

"Nephew, of course I did."

His hands flittered at his sides again, but he didn't reach out. That was good; Zuko wasn't sure what he'd do if his uncle tried to touch him.

"I carried you to the healing rooms myself," Iroh continued. "I waited outside the door for hours whilst they worked." He stepped closer to Zuko, almost within reach; Zuko forced himself to stand his ground and not flinch back. "The next morning, Ozai called the court. I had to go; everyone was ordered to be there. He told us that he had banished you for treason, and that you would be living life as an exile in the colonies. That your ship had sailed at dawn." Iroh's voice was growing harder as he continued his story.

"I ran back to the healing rooms, but you were not there. I ran to the docks, but no one knew which ship had taken you. I confess I had thought Ozai had done the worst and was trying to conceal the atrocity, but there were signs of your having been at the harbour- a discarded stretcher and torn bandage, as well as a young fisherman who swore blind he'd heard someone ordering the harbourmaster to burn the morning's records."

Zuko took a few deep breaths. His hands were still shaking; he tightened them into fists. "And then? Did you look for me then?"

Iroh's hands twitched, but he took a step back, rather than towards Zuko.

"I spoke to a dozen different ship's captains who promised they'd taken you everywhere from Ember Island to Gaoling. Three said you'd died on the voyage, another four that you'd jumped ship the minute you'd docked in port, and the rest had you everywhere from prison to the Earth Kingdom army. I spoke to caravan trains, to merchants, to innkeepers in every town in the archipelago and most of the Southern Earth Kingdom." Iroh took a deep breath. "I worked my way up to Grand Lotus and had White Lotus agents following up every sighting, every rumour that we came across." Iroh looked back up at Zuko; his eyes were wet and his expression so very grave. "I looked for you for so long, nephew, but there was no news. Ozai spread misinformation like a volcano spreads ashes- cloaking the truth beneath a choking cloud of lies and conflicting stories. I started to fear I would never find you."

Something flashed across his Uncle's face then, an expression Zuko had last seen amongst a shifting crowd and across the dim light of an arena: guilt. Cold realisation settled heavily in his gut, like stale bread on an empty stomach.

"You stopped looking."

Iroh closed his eyes for a long moment. "Something changed…" He swallowed heavily. "Our agents were required elsewhere."

"What?" Zuko's voice was rough and sharp, heavy with the unexpected hurt that he'd just been forgotten. "What was more important than…?" He couldn't finish that question, hated how juvenile and needy it made him sound. But, for a moment, he'd thought his Uncle had…cared.

Iroh took a deep breath and opened his eyes.

"The Avatar returned to the world."

Zuko flinched as if he'd been hit. The Avatar. Of course. A sudden rush of jealousy hit Zuko like a blow to the gut, knocking the wind out of him so suddenly that for a moment he couldn't breathe. He shouldn't have been surprised really. It was an unfortunate fact of Zuko's life; someone else was always more important, more worthy.

Iroh's hands fluttered up as if to touch Zuko's shoulders. Zuko took a solid two steps back, as far out of reach as the tent would allow. Iroh winced and let his hands drop back to his sides.

"I am so sorry, nephew," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I did not stop looking for you. I never stopped looking for you. But the White Lotus could not dedicate all our resources to one search any longer; the Avatar's reappearance was such a sudden escalation… we were stretched so thin. I could only do so much on my own."

Zuko said nothing, squashing down the hurt ripping at his chest until an icy calm came over him.

"Do you know where I was?" He asked.

"In a mining camp," Iroh said quietly. "Lieutenant Jee told us when we found him."

Zuko nodded.

"He sent me there to die, you know?" he said conversationally, looking over Iroh's shoulder to the canvas of the tent behind him. "My father, I mean."

"I know."

"There weren't any healers on the ship." Zuko continued, utterly dispassionately.

"What-"

"The infection nearly killed me. I'm all but deaf and blind on my left hand side, you know?"

"Nephew, I-"

"I was right there, Uncle. For three years."

"I know-"

"Have you ever been in one of the camps, Uncle?" Zuko asked, cutting Iroh off. "Have you seen people starve until their skin is thin as silk and their hearts give out? Watched soldiers beat a woman to death for answering back? Broken a man's arm over a blanket?"

The old man took a deep breath; his eyes were bright with emotion. It made Zuko angry, made his chest burn with sudden, hideous fury. Iroh took another deep breath.

"I have not."

Smoke was rising from Zuko's clenched fists.

"Then you don't know a fucking thing."

Before Iroh had a chance to say anything further, Zuko ducked through the tent flap and all but ran through the camp. He finally found what he was looking for at the back of one of the supply tents he'd noticed earlier; there was a small spot behind a stack of crates just big enough for him to sit down in with his legs stretched out. He slipped into the hiding spot and collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath. The enormity of what had just happened hit him like a tsunami. He was shaking and he pressed his head against his knees as tightly as he could to try and stop the world from spinning.

He'd sworn at his uncle, had run away without being dismissed; his father would have beaten him bloody for that disrespect. But his uncle had abandoned him, hadn't he? So what did a little disrespect matter? He'd sworn swore he'd looked for Zuko and, sure, Zuko could believe that, to a certain extent- Iroh had been close with him and Azula… after Lu Ten had died, anyway. Maybe there'd been some sympathy involved, some pity for the stupid brat who couldn't keep his fucking mouth shut and whose father was a monster without mercy or compassion. Still, did Zuko really think Iroh had kept going after Aang had come back? Not really. Iroh had all but admitted it, and the others seemed to know his uncle well enough to recognise him at first sight. Zuko suspected that he'd stopped looking for Zuko and focused on helping the Avatar the minute that Aang landed in the South Pole. Zuko was a disowned, disappointing, damaged brat; not worth wasting time on, not worth rescuing. Even Ozai hadn't bothered with him; he'd just left him to the Water Tribe, not caring what a bunch of vengeful, highly-trained warriors might do to a useless hostage. What any sensible leader would do to a useless hostage.

Iroh had had a whole secret society of fucking spies at his beck and call and had just left Zuko in that camp to rot. Had probably left him to Chief Hakoda too, seeing as the Water Tribe were all too familiar with the White Lotus back at the Black Cliffs. Because, of course, there was always something more important going on out there than Zuko. It wasn't as if he should have expected better; Zuko knew his worth in the grand scheme of things. He was the embarrassment of the Royal Family even when he was still in it; he bent too late, he was too sensitive, too stupid, too weak. He had always been second in his father's eyes, fuck, probably in the eyes of the entire nation, why should he have expected anything different from his uncle, just because the man had shared tea with him out of pity a couple of times? Of course, the Avatar came first. Since he'd returned the entire tide of the war had changed. He was giving people hope, real hope, of peace. Of course Iroh, the head of an anti-Fire Nation intelligence network would want to find him, to keep him safe.

It was all just too much: the revelations of the day, the hurt and the confusion and the self-loathing that he had yet again allowed himself to let himself get disappointed by his expectations in people. Zuko's chest was painfully tight and each breath he took came out short and sharper until they were almost hitching sobs. He was shaking- he knew that- his arm banging erratically against the sharp, splintering corner of a bamboo crate as he desperately tried to hold himself together. His good eye was stinging fiercely and there was a horrible burn at the back of his nose that told him he was close to tears. He hadn't even had chance to properly process seeing his father again, of going back into the Fire Nation and being captured and his father and the lightning and then seeing Azula again and…Zuko pressed his head into his knees as he finally lost the battle to control his breathing. His chest was so tight he could barely breathe out and his head was getting foggier and foggier as the panic rose up in his chest. He was going to die, he could feel it. He couldn't breathe and he was going to die squashed in the back of a storage tent like a fucking spider-rat.

He didn't know how long he sat there before his breathing began to slow. It could have been minutes or hours, but slowly but surely, he pieced himself back together. He was exhausted, his chest and throat burnt like he'd been screaming and his good cheek was prickling uncomfortably where tears had left their salty tracks. The panic had gone, leaving just a terrible, bone-deep weariness. It had been a long time since he'd had an attack this bad, years probably. Maybe even back to those early days in camp when he'd first found himself shoved down a mineshaft, face in agony and utterly, inescapably aware of the reality of his new life. Still, panic wasn't exactly a new experience for Zuko, even if this attack was a bit more… intense…than usual. He knew how to pick himself up and carry on, how to squash down all the latest feelings of hurt and disappointment and fear and just...keep going. That was all he really could do in the end. All he was really good for. Putting one foot in front of the other and carrying on through sheer spite and stubbornness.

He let out a deep sigh, which turned itself into a jaw-cracking yawn mid-way through. He just had to figure out how he was going to go about that. He knew, rationally and with a bit of distance from the shock, that he couldn't blame his Uncle for the way his life had turned out. It had been his father who had burnt him, who had banished him and sent him to starve and shiver in the camp. His Uncle had looked for him, he'd said, and Zuko thought he believed him. It wasn't his Uncle's fault that he'd been well-hidden. He deliberately told himself that the pain in his chest wasn't hurt; hurt would be unproductive. He just needed to forget about it, to move on; hurt feelings weren't going to change anything. He could be stronger than that; he needed to be stronger than that. Weakness led to anger and disappointment and the cold stone of an arena with his father's hand on fire and…

Zuko didn't know why his father hadn't just had his throat slit whilst he slept. It would have been quick and simple. Messy, of course, both practically and politically, but it would have solved a few problems for the Fire Lord. Perhaps Ozai had genuinely feared Agni's retribution if he violated the rules of Agni Kai and killed his son after he had survived the blow in the arena - or, as Sokka had suggested quietly one night when it was just the two of them, a dying campfire and the mutual acknowledgement of nightmares still the only things between them – Ozai had feared the people's retribution if he did so. He had certainly gone to a lot of effort to conceal Zuko's location. Zuko thought his father had wanted him to die quietly and in obscurity, somewhere where no one would even remember him or care enough about him to make him a martyr.

Well, he'd almost got his wish. There'd been enough times Zuko had just thought of giving up, of just not fighting against whatever fate and the spirits had in store for him anymore. Still, he'd always pulled himself back from the brink whenever his thoughts had become too dark, reminding himself that every breath he took was the biggest "fuck you" he could give to his father. He'd picked himself up from worse before. He would do so again now.

He sat quietly for a little while, just letting his thoughts drift. At some point, he must have fallen asleep, letting the exhaustion he'd been fighting for days finally claim him, because he found himself started awake by a soft knocking on the crate next to his head.

"It's me."

Zuko closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath. Sokka. It was Sokka. He was safe.

"Can I come in?"

Zuko nodded, before realising that he was hidden.

"Yeah," he called out, instead, his voice and thoughts still muffled by sleep.

There was a lot of shuffling and muffled swearing, and then Sokka squeezed his way between the boxes and into the small space. Zuko shifted his legs up to his chest and Sokka crouched down in the gap, grimacing at the mud that still clung to Zuko's shoes.

"Hey," Sokka said, with a small smile. "You know, you always manage to find the smallest fucking spaces to hide when you run off, right?"

Zuko nodded into his knees, thinking of the ship, of the storage cupboard in the palace he'd found and never told anyone, even Lu Ten, about.

"We've been looking for you for hours," Sokka continued, as casually as if he were talking about the weather. "You just sprinted off and no one could find you. It's nearly time for dinner."

Zuko muttered an apology.

"Didn't go too well with your Uncle?" Sokka asked. Zuko let out a bitter laugh and pressed his forehead tighter against his knees. "Yeah, he said as much, after grilling me about our lovely little chat with the Fire Lord." He let his head fall back against the crate, watching Zuko carefully. "Do you want to leave?"

Zuko thought about it for a minute.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "We're safe here, I think. At least, it's safer than we've been in a while. And-" He cut himself off with a sigh. "And I think they do want to help us."

Sokka nodded and crossed his arms in front of his chest, watching Zuko closely.

"What happened?"

Zuko let out another strangled laugh.

"We talked. I shouted at him and ran off." He snorted. "Probably should stay out of his way for a while." Until his temper cooled off. Iroh wasn't Ozai; he didn't hit. Not ever before. But that didn't mean he wouldn't. "Couldn't you hear us?"

"No, actually," Sokka said. "Those tents are surprisingly sound-proof." He shrugged. "I mean, I know they're a super-secret organisation and everything, but that's still pretty impressive-"

"He was looking for me," Zuko admitted quietly. Sokka shut up mid-sentence. "When I was in the camp." Zuko's eyes darted up to Sokka's and then back down to his knees. "He was trying to find me."

"Isn't that a good thing?" Sokka asked quietly.

"Yeah," Zuko said softly. "But…" He trailed off; his good eye was prickling fiercely.

"But what?"

"It's just…" He spoke into his knees, not daring to look at Sokka. Dear Agni, this was embarrassing. "Why didn't he find me?"

Sokka's face twisted into something half-sad, half-bitter and wholly, painfully understanding.

"You know, when I was a kid," he said softly, "I used to sneak off hunting- long before I was old enough to go on my own." He shifted uncomfortably, trying to stretch his leg out into space that just wasn't there, and ending up resting it on Zuko's foot. "Looking back, it was really fucking stupid. I know how dangerous it is to get caught in a blizzard. But, back then, I kind of felt like I had to prove something to my dad, you know? Katara had her bending and I had…well, I could weave nets and that was about it. I was convinced maybe if I hauled in something major, something impressive that would feed the whole tribe, maybe my dad would be proud of me for a change." He grimaced. "Sounds pathetic, I know…and nothing compared to what you're going through… so I'll just shut up now…" He trailed off.

"No," Zuko said. "Carry on."

Sokka shot him an uncertain look, but continued. "Alright…Anyway. So one day, I told my dad I was going penguin sledding, 'cause he never would have let me go on a hunt on my own, and then I just grabbed a knife and left. I was miles away from home before I realised I was completely lost. Didn't have a clue where I was or what I was doing there. And then, 'cause I was, like all of six, I just sat down and burst into tears. I was there for hours, scared outta my mind and just waiting for my dad to come find me. Because, you know, he was my dad, that's just what he did."

He smiled sadly. "Only he never turned up. I was out in the cold for hours, missed lunch and everything and no one came to find me. Eventually I realised no one was coming and ended up finding my own way back home. Took forever and I only found the right way because they it the fire to cook dinner and I followed the smoke." Sokka shifted again, pushing his foot further up Zuko's leg as he stretched. "You know what they said when I got back?

Zuko shook his head.

"Nothing. Hadn't even realised I was gone. It was the first time it happened, wasn't the last. So, I mean, I kinda get where you're coming from. It wasn't that my dad didn't care or anything, but he's the Chief, he had a lot of responsibilities…sometimes he forget about us when he got-"

"Busy?" Zuko asked bitterly, cutting across him.

Sokka regarded him closely for a long moment. "What else did your Uncle say to you, Zuko?"

Zuko snorted. "It's like you said, Sokka, it isn't that he didn't care, he was just busy."

Sokka watched him steadily, unmoving.

"He said they were looking for me," Zuko explained, finally giving in, "the White Lotus, I mean. Only…when Aang came back, they kind of had a new priority… they, sort of, stopped…after that." He swallowed, refusing to meet Sokka's eyes. "I know that makes me sound like a pathetic little brat, but…" he trailed off.

Sokka leant forwards and pulled him into a hug; it was awkward and uncomfortable due to the ridiculously tight space around them, but it soothed some of Zuko's rattled nerves.

"Doesn't sound pathetic. At all," Sokka said, pressing a kiss against Zuko's forehead. "But…" He pulled back to look Zuko squarely in the eyes. "These past couple of days have been…" He trailed off, not needing to put into words exactly how horrific everything had been since Aang jumped on his glider back at the Black Cliffs. "Maybe it's worth talking to your Uncle again? He seemed really worried about you, kept saying he shouldn't have taken us all by surprise, that he should have explained himself better."

Zuko snorted. That was a given.

"I'm just saying… maybe it's worth listening to him. He seemed like he really cares about you. And…and if it doesn't work out, the White Lotus have got to know something about what went down at the Capital. They can help us strategize and regroup."

"They didn't tell you anything?"

"No, everyone's been looking for you all afternoon, literally since you ran out of the tent."

Zuko closed his eyes briefly, realising just how selfish he'd been. He'd been whining about his abandonment issues whilst Sokka had been worrying about what had happened to the rest of the invasion force- to his dad.

"You're right, Sokka," Zuko replied, steeling himself against the next conversation. "I probably just overreacted. I should speak to him again."

He pulled himself out of the hug and to his feet, shifting awkwardly around Sokka to do so.

"That's not what I meant," Sokka said, using one of the crates to stand as he fought what was clearly a very dead leg.

"I know," Zuko replied. Because Sokka was too kind, too damn caring to tell Zuko when he was being an inconsiderate jerk. So Zuko would just have to get better at noticing for himself. He'd never been the best at figuring out stuff like that, but he'd try. For Sokka.

He let Sokka grab his shoulder as they stumbled their way around crates and bags of flour and out of the tent. He wiped at his good cheek with his free hand, only stopping when Sokka assured him that he looked fine and not at all like he'd been crying for the better part of the afternoon.

As they headed back towards Iroh's tent- Sokka all-too-familiar with the route after spending hours running about camp looking for him- someone noticed their awkward gait and let out the cry that Zuko had been found. A few more twists and turns and they found themselves back at Iroh's tent. Zuko took a deep breath as the man himself came rushing out to greet them. This was the moment of truth.

Carefully depositing Sokka on a log by the fire to stretch out his leg, Zuko turned back to his Uncle and dropped to his knees in a low bow, nose almost brushing the floor. He could do this, he reminded himself, he just needed to apologise to his uncle, weather the consequences of his actions, and then get on with figuring out the next steps and what had happened to Chief Hakoda. This was for Sokka, he told the horrible mix of indignant fury and humiliation simmering in his chest. He'd done worse for less. At least he'd be abasing himself for a good cause this time.

"I'm sorry, Uncle," he intoned, pointedly ignoring, Sokka's yelp of complaint. "I was rude to you and caused disruption to the camp by running off."

He waited with bated breath for something to happen. Because he knew what would happen if he were before his father. Or any of the officers back at camp. A boot to the ribs and then…Well he could take a beating. He just hoped Sokka wouldn't think any worse of him afterwards. There was a long moment of silence and then strong hands were grabbing him by the arms. Zuko flinched but they didn't hit or hurt, simply pulled him completely upright and into a tight hug.

"Oh Zuko," his uncle replied, ignoring his outright flinch and pulling him tighter. "It is I who should be apologising to you." He held Zuko steadily, pressing his head against Zuko's shoulder. "I went about this all wrong." He stood silently waiting until Zuko finally began to relax his shoulders before continuing quietly. "I should have explained myself better." He squeezed Zuko one last time and then let go, ushering him over to sit next to Sokka.

Sokka looked at Zuko with a horrible mix of amusement and longing, clearly enjoying the awkward blush Zuko had no doubt was spread across his good cheek, but clearly missing his dad. Zuko sobered abruptly and tried to figure out where exactly this whole conversation had gotten away from him. He needed to focus back on the big picture; he really shouldn't be this disorientated from a fucking hug.

Iroh sat down across from Zuko, sighing deeply in contentment. He lit the fire with a flick of his fingers and then set a kettle down over it, no doubt getting ready to make tea. If there was one thing in the world Zuko would never doubt, it was his uncle's love of tea.

When the kettle was bubbling away to itself, Iroh looked up and smiled at the two boys.

"I would like to start our conversation over, if that is acceptable to you, nephew?" Iroh watched Zuko closely, clearly looking for something in his expression. Zuko nodded tersely in reply, and Iroh's smile drooped slightly. "I'm sure you have questions," he said finally, after a truly awkward silence. "Maybe it would be easier if you asked them?"

Zuko froze. Actually froze. Honestly he had no idea what to actually say. Did he have questions? Probably. So then why couldn't he think of any? He turned to look at Sokka, face slightly pleading. Sokka smiled at him in amusement and masterfully stepped up and into the firing line.

"So, you're the head of the whole White Lotus, you must know what happened at the Fire Nation Capital?"

Iroh nodded tightly. "Some of it."

Sokka leant forwards. "Do you know what happened to the rest of the invasion force, to my dad? Did they make it out okay?"

Iroh sighed, looking at Sokka with horrible compassion. "I'm sorry, Sokka. There were many casualties, but the vast majority of the force was taken prisoner. Including your father and most of your tribe." Sokka slumped forwards in what could have been relief at their survival or despair at their capture. "I don't know where they were taken," Iroh continued, pre-empting the next question, "but I have my suspicions and each and every one of them is under watch by a White Lotus agent. We'll know where they are soon enough."

Zuko bit down on the vicious response desperate to trip off his tongue- that Iroh hadn't been able to find Zuko, had he? Sokka's shoulders had lost a tension Zuko had barely noticed they'd been carrying; Zuko couldn't be responsible for ruining that moment.

"Thank you," Sokka replied.

Iroh nodded in acknowledgment and leant over to take the kettle off the fire. He pulled a teapot from somewhere in his robes and started to fill it with the nearly-boiling water.

"So…" Sokka said as the silence once again moved past painful and into excruciating. "How… do you know my dad?"

Iroh smiled benignly. "I don't," he replied, pulling a handful of cups from within his robes, "other than by reputation, of course." He set the cups down and started filling them with herbal-smelling tea. "I have a deep respect for Chief Hakoda, but unfortunately I have not yet had the pleasure of meeting him."

Something in Zuko's stomach churned at that.

"I thought the White Lotus had been working with the Water Tribe?" He asked curtly.

His uncle carefully handed him and Sokka a cup of tea each.

"That is true," he replied, "to a certain extent." He took a sip of his tea, and Zuko followed suit out of politeness. It was jasmine; his uncle loved jasmine tea. "We're a secret organisation, nephew," Iroh explained. "We mainly operate through undercover agents. If possible, we prefer that as few people as possible know the name 'White Lotus'?"

"Then what changed?" Sokka cut in. "Why did your agents tell my dad who they were?"

Iroh coughed. "That situation was…unique." He took another sip of his tea, seemingly not inclined to say any more.

"How?" Zuko asked, more aggressively than he'd really meant to. He began to stutter out an apology, but Iroh just shook his head and waved him off.

"I should not have been so vague," he sighed. "It is just that…it is to do with you nephew." Zuko took another dep sip of his tea to avoid yet another inappropriate interjection. Iroh, mercifully, continued unprompted. "About six months ago, one of our agents was out near the Great Divide on standard reconnaissance. In an inn one night he overheard some guards talking about a camp they were being posted to, one that was not on our maps. I was deep in the Earth Kingdom and unreachable at that time and, in my absence and with all our agents out in the field, the decision was made to…call in some aid from our allies."

"My dad," Sokka said. Iroh nodded.

"Chief Hakoda and his men took on the task of dismantling the camp. It was supposed to be simple: they would liberate the prisoners, take the coal and…handle any opposition from the soldiers posted there."

"Handle as in…" Sokka asked, looking vaguely sick.

"As in however your father deemed necessary to get the job done," Iroh said, with a low undercurrent of iron to his tone. Sokka nodded and swallowed heavily.

"So what went wrong?" Sokka asked, after a long moment. "If the mission was to just take the camp down quietly, why'd it end up on fire?"

Zuko's shoulders tensed. He had explained the outline of what had happened in the camp to Sokka, but had been deliberately vague on the details. He had not wanted to relive those memories any more than he had to. Still it seemed that, as the spirits liked to mess with him, he would end up doing so anyway.

"As I understand it," Iroh began, "Your father enlisted the help of a group of earthbenders to infiltrate the camp. However, a guard spotted one of the groups and alerted the camp. A fight broke out, during which a fire got out of hand and reached the coal."

Zuko clenched his fists so hard his nails bit into his palms and smoke began to curl out between them. It took everything he had to sit still and listen to his uncle explain everything so dispassionately, as if it were just another mission gone awry. Zuko could still taste the smoke at the back of his throat, could hear the crackling flames and the horrible whistling, as stone projectiles smashed the feeble protection of the camp buildings to shreds. He shivered and Sokka put an arm around his shoulders.

His uncle stood and went into the tent, bringing back with him a thick, pale grey woollen blanket. He handed it to Zuko as he sat back down, and then waited until Zuko pulled it around his shoulders before continuing.

"Perhaps the less we speak about that, the better…" Iroh said, but Zuko shook his head. He had his own questions to ask.

"So you really didn't know I was in the camp?" Zuko asked.

"We did not, nephew."

"Huh." Zuko sat back, staring at the fire. It was sheer luck then, that he'd survived it at all. Sheer luck and Shao, the bastard, who had identified him as the ex-Prince and put his fate in the hands of Chief Hakoda. No one had known he'd been in the camp. If he and Jee had died in that fire, no one would have ever known.

"So was Jee working with you all that time?" Of course, Jee had said that he hadn't been part of the White Lotus then, but, honestly, Zuko was feeling more than a little suspicious of all the sudden revelations. He needed to check.

"No," Iroh shook his head. "He had been staying with some farmers, as they nursed him back to health after the fire. They were under the impression he was a loyal soldier of the Fire Nation and so Jee thought it best to leave at the first opportunity, before they realised the truth and handed him in. He found his way to one of our agents, who got a message to me in Ba Sing Se. I was more than happy to admit him to the order, even if he had brought me the worst news I could have ever imagined."

"What?" Sokka asked, leaning forwards.

Iroh smiled tightly. "That my nephew was dead, and that I had not managed to save him."

"But he was with my dad!"

"Yes, Sokka," Iroh explained, with a tight smile, "and your father went to great lengths to keep that quiet."

Zuko thought back to his time on the ship, how he had been sent out into town the day that Chief Hakoda had arranged to meet with his mysterious informant.

"You had no idea I was alive?" He asked, half-hopefully.

His uncle met his eyes. "I promise you, nephew, on my life, that I truly believed that you were dead. There were sightings, rumours spreading through the Fire Nation of the lost Prince and of a group of children looking for the Water Tribe fleet, but it was only when you ran into a couple of our agents that I truly dared to hope you had truly survived. Of course, you ran off so quickly that our agents lost track of you. But we knew you were with the Avatar and we knew of the invasion plan, so we knew where you would be on the eclipse. Our agents had hoped to bring you back from the Black Cliffs that morning. Of course, things went awry…"

Zuko blinked, trying to take all of that in. Sokka's mind however, as always, moved faster.

"Which agents?"

"Hmm?"

"You said we ran into agents? We met the shopkeeper who gave us supplies. Who was the second one?"

Iroh smiled over his teacup. "Why, your teacher, Master Piandao, of course!"

Zuko didn't know what to say to that. It was one weird connection too many and he was already beginning to feel like his life was a fucking spirit tale full of strange coincidences and horrible luck. Still, it did at least explain why his father had been surprised to see him and Aang alive; Piandao hadn't reported them at all.

Sokka opened his mouth, clearly about to ask some more questions, but was cut off by a sudden shout.

"There you are!" Katara yelled, rushing over to the fire with Aang and Toph on her heels. "We've been looking for you for ages!"

"Yeah Zuko," Toph replied, coming to sit down at his side and punching him solidly in the arm. "None of us had any idea where you'd run off to."

Zuko looked down at the fire. "Sorry," he muttered, nudging her side in a silent thanks. He knew all too well she'd probably found him in minutes and led the others off in the complete wrong direction to give him some space.

"I don't know how you couldn't just sense him, Toph," Aang said, slumping down next to Iroh with a tired groan.

"I told you, Twinkletoes," Toph replied, utterly casual and unconcerned. "The ground here's all weird; I couldn't get a proper trace."

"But you thought he was halfway up a mountain!" Aang complained.

Toph snorted. "What can I say? The rocks at the top of that hill were really dense. Felt like Sparky, for sure."

Zuko growled and poked her in the side, but she was far too pleased with herself to let it bother her.

Before they descended into further bickering, Iroh announced that they all needed a calming cup of tea. He was about to go back into his tent for extra cups when Jee appeared around the corner, carrying a large pot of something that smelled incredible in one hand and a bowl of soup in the other.

"It's stew," he told them all, hanging the pot over the fire to keep warm. "No doubt none of you have eaten lunch and it's more than late enough for dinner."

Zuko's stomach grumbled in agreement. He knew without looking, of course, that the sun had dropped closer towards the horizon, and the dimming light confirmed that it was well into the early evening. Still, he hadn't felt hungry at all. Not until food was placed in front of him. He needed to watch that, he thought, as Jee handed the bowl of soup over to Aang. Zuko hadn't eaten much over the past few days and his brain had fallen all too easily into just ignoring hunger pains altogether. It'd taken quite a lot of effort over the past few months for Zuko to break that habit- back on the ship with the Water Tribe he'd often just forget to eat for whole days. He knew that wasn't healthy. At all.

Jee returned moments after he'd left with bowls and chopsticks and a very large ladle, his arrival cutting off Zuko's thoughts with the more pressing concern of dinner. Jee handed a spoon and a set of chopsticks off to Aang and then started doling out large bowls of stew to everyone else.

Aang's food, clearly the vegetarian option, was a large bowl of soup with several large dumplings on top. Aang picked one up, sniffed it experimentally, before shrugging and shoving the entire thing into his mouth in one go. His reaction was utterly unique; Zuko had never seen anything like it. His face lit up bright red within seconds of his first bite. Gasping for air, he bent the entire contents of his water skin into the general vicinity of his mouth in one sudden splash. When he surfaced, moments later and with sopping wet hair, he was still gulping for air and yelping about the spice. Uncle Iroh watched the whole sequence with a widening grin, which turned into a belly laugh as Aang picked up his chopsticks to take a second bite.

"Oh no you don't," Zuko said, snatching the Avatar's bowl away from him with dexterity he had cultivated in the mess halls of the camp. "I'm not listening to you complain all of tomorrow when you've burnt off half your taste buds."

Aang pouted, but Zuko shook his head, accepting his own bowl from Jee with a quiet thanks and spooning two of the dumplings into his stew. He offered the others around, and Jee and Iroh took a couple each. The others, clearly put off by Aang's reaction, were happy to let the Fire Nation natives handle the spice. Even Sokka didn't put up a fuss and try to prove his manliness, which Zuko thought was probably personal growth.

Aang grumbled, but Zuko simply handed the bowl of soup back to him.

"But-" Aang complained.

"No." Zuko said, pointing his chopsticks at the bowl. "Eat your soup."

His uncle watched the whole exchange with a smile that made Zuko feel painfully exposed. He could swear he could feel the hot rush of blood rising in his good cheek. Iroh mercifully, didn't say anything about it, and dinner passed in amiable chatter.

Sokka filled the others in on the news about the rest of the invasion force, and, by the time they'd emptied the pot of stew between them, the conversation had moved onto next steps.

"Of course you can stay here," Iroh said cheerfully. "We're not planning to move for another week and we can help you track down Appa in the meantime. You're more than welcome to come with us when we move base, but the choice will be yours."

Aang let out a sigh of relief. "You think you can help me to find Appa?"

"We'll do our best, Avatar Aang," Iroh explained. "And while we work on that, you can take the time here to rest and train."

"That's right, Twinkletoes," Toph cut in, smacking her fist against her palm. "We've still got plenty of stuff to work on before I'm ready to say you've mastered earthbending."

"And we could both do with some time to practice our waterbending," Katara agreed. "We've been so focused on everything else lately; some proper sparring time would be good for us too."

Aang nodded his head in reluctant agreement to both. Iroh smiled proudly at them all. Then he turned to Zuko, expression all polite inquiry.

"And what about his firebending? How is that coming along?"

It took a few moments for Zuko to realise that his uncle had just asked him that question, and then he promptly choked on the mouthful of tea he'd just taken.

"What?" He managed to force out between coughs. Sokka thumped him on the back a few times and he finally managed to get himself back under control. The panic however, had not disappeared. "I'm not teaching him firebending!" He exclaimed.

Iroh's face contorted in confusion.

"You're not?" He turned to Aang. "Then who is..?"

Aang shrugged, blushing slightly. He bowed his head. "Um…no one."

"What?" Iroh looked like someone had just smashed his best teapot. "Then why aren't you…?" He turned back to Zuko, looking vaguely alarmed.

"I can't teach him." Zuko gritted out, feeling horribly exposed. Surely Jee would have told his uncle that Zuko had lost his firebending in the camps? Were they expecting that he'd miraculously have gained control over it again in barely a few months, most of which he'd spent as a prisoner of the Water Tribe? Maybe other people, like Azula, would be able to do that, but not Zuko; he'd been a shit firebender in the first place.

"But…"

"I can't," Zuko stressed, the humiliation tearing strips out of him. "I can barely make sparks."

"Still?" Jee asked in alarm.

"Well, I've got a bit more control than that," Zuko muttered, both mortified and deeply offended that they'd expected so much of him and he was utterly incapable of delivering. "But I can barely remember the forms as it is. I'm not even a novice, let alone a master."

There was a long moment of silence; Sokka nudged against Zuko's side in silent support as Jee and Iroh had a conversation entirely in glances and eyebrow raises.

Finally, his uncle broke the silence, letting out a deep breath before he spoke.

"Well, it seems like a change of plans are in order." He smiled at Aang. "You will need to stay with us, after all. We will have to work out the scheduling, but I'm sure between us we will be able to find the time."

Aang looked utterly lost. "What do you mean?"

"Well, Lieutenant Jee and I will teach you. You picked up waterbending and earthbending incredibly fast. If you work hard, I'm sure you will be able to master Firebending before Sozin's comet arrives."

Zuko looked at his feet, feeling the shame of being an utter disappointment ride over him once again.

"And you too, of course, nephew," Iroh added, cutting through his thoughts. "I'm sure we'll have you back up to speed again in no time."

Aang looked like someone had just handed him an angry catgator, but he copied the low bow of gratitude that Zuko gave to his uncle and to Jee. Zuko, for his own part, really couldn't tell how he felt. He was grateful, so pathetically grateful that they had offered him the chance to learn to control his fire once again. It was part of him, after all, as integral and necessary as the blood that flowed through his veins. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was a failure, that he'd let everyone down. That he was weak. His father's voice rang in his head, and it was getting harder and harder to ignore it.

"Hang on," Sokka said abruptly, cutting through Zuko's self-deprecating, spiralling thoughts. "Why all the hurry? Aang doesn't have to face the Fire Lord before Sozin's comet. We can wait until he's ready before he has to try and save the world, can't we?" He trailed off as he saw just how pale Iroh's face had become. Jee quietly excused himself and left the group. "Can't we?" Sokka asked again.

Iroh looked between them in growing alarm. "Do you mean you don't know?" He asked faintly.

"Know what?" Sokka replied, voice heavy with dread.

"That the Fire Lord is planning to invade the Earth Kingdom on the day of Sozin's comet," Iroh told them all quietly, but firmly. "With the comet behind him, he'll burn through half the Earth Kingdom in hours."

"Do you mean…?" Katara asked faintly.

Iroh nodded, face like stone. "Yes. I'm afraid that If Avatar Aang doesn't face the Fire Lord before the comet arrives…then there won't be much of a world left to save."