Chapter 8: Fever Dreams
No one who had ever met her would call Moro the nursing type. Sure she took care of her mother, but all that entailed was bringing her medicine and making sure she had the strength to get out of bed, she had never seen anything like this.
Iroh sat off to the side grinding herbs for tea while Moro continuously wiped Zuko's forehead with a damp cloth. She'd been doing it for hours and her fingers were starting to crack from the constant wetness, but she hardly noticed.
"What is this Gramps?" she asked softly, wincing when she saw her sickly friend's eyebrows furrow in his sleep again. "He didn't look sick earlier…"
He really didn't, he was as lively and angry as ever, but the moment he stepped through the front door it was like everything in him fell apart. His skin was clammy and white, and he was sweating everywhere but like ice to the touch. Moro had never felt more scared than when he collapsed out of nowhere, completely unresponsive to her attempts to rouse him.
Iroh sighed, taking the cloth from her and wiping his nephew's forehead in her place. "This is no ordinary sickness, you remember what I told you about Zuko's quest for the Avatar?"
She nodded, clenching her fists over her knees.
"My nephew has made many choices that put him on the wrong path, but setting the Avatar's bison free awakened something inside him, and now his spirit is at war with itself…" he trailed off, setting aside the bowl of water and frowning. "I must tend to him as much as I can, so he can find his way through."
Moro placed her hand over Iroh's, determination burning in her blue and yellow eyes. "What can I do to help?"
The old man sighed, for the first time looking as old as he actually was. He gave her hand a firm squeeze, "I appreciate your dedication Moro, but your mother needs you, and you've been gone all night, you must tend to her first, and get some rest of your own… but should you find your way back here, I know my nephew will appreciate your company."
She chose to ignore the warmth in her cheeks, only nodding solemnly and giving Zuko one last concerned glance before getting up and walking towards the door.
As much as she wanted to stay and look after her friend, Iroh was right, Esra needed her more. Plus, her mother was probably awake by now and worried about where her daughter was. Moro needed to go home, at least for now. She had every intention of coming back, but she had to check on her mother.
Taking in a deep breath of Ba Sing Se's crisp morning air, she began her journey back home.
She only lived a few miles from their apartment, but her mind was racing so much it felt like hours before she was standing in front of her front door.
A spiritual sickness? What did that even mean? Spirits were real? Iroh said Zuko's spirit was at war with itself, she wondered what that felt like. Judging by his clammy skin and rapid breathing, it didn't feel good.
Esra was still asleep as Moro crept into the apartment, she prepared her mother some medicinal tea for when she awoke, but the entire time she was still focused on Zuko. Part of her felt selfish for being concerned about him rather than her own mother, but Esra had slowly been getting better recently. She was getting out of bed more often, her smiles weren't tired, and her voice wasn't weak from coughing. Zuko however looked like death itself…
She quickly pushed the thought of death from her mind, the warmth from the boiling water grounding her in reality for the time being.
Sighing, Moro turned away from the stove and rolled out her futon, at least trying to get some rest like Iroh had told her.
She shut her eyes and tried to sleep, but she kept thinking about the sour-faced boy, her only friend who turned out to be the prince of an entire nation of firebenders. He was just like her yet nothing like her at the same time; they were both hiding in the slums of Ba Sing Se, yet Zuko was running away from his past, and Moro had never known a life outside of hiding.
As worried as she was for him, part of her was thrilled to know this about him.
She felt closer to him now, like that shadowed part of him he'd tried so hard to keep from her was out in the open.
Real trust had formed between them.
Moro smiled, keeping that thought in her mind as she finally succumbed to sleep.
His mother used to say that nightmares were only scary things leaving his thoughts, and that once he'd dreamt them they'd never scare him again. Azula used to make fun of him for getting scared so easily, and his father always looked at him with the same look of annoyance whenever he climbed into his parents' bed after a nightmare.
The same feeling formed in the pit of his stomach during every nightmare, a kind of dread that felt like a slowly building pressure that would shatter at any minute.
Zuko felt that way now, that dread that told him he wasn't awake, but his surroundings were so vivid and clear that he didn't know where he was or if he really was asleep.
There were flames all around him, but their heat was only a dull feeling. He was dressed in the blazing red robes of the Fire Lord, the crown a welcomed weight on his head, and the sting of his scar on his face nothing but a distant memory.
He was everything he'd always wanted to be… the Fire Lord.
"It's getting late…" his sister's voice hissed seductively in his ear. "Are you planning to retire soon… Fire Lord?"
Zuko turned his head, looking into the golden eyes of a slithering blue dragon, it's coils constricting and writhing like a predator taught to pounce and devour him.
"I'm not tired." He told it.
A low purr rumbled in the dragon's throat. "Relax Fire Lord Zuko… just let go, give in to it, shut your eyes for a while…"
Azula's voice was like an irresistible lullaby, and as much as Zuko tried to resist falling asleep, he quickly grew weak from the soothing purrs of the blue dragon.
"No Fire Lord Zuko!" His uncle cried, or at least it sounded like his uncle. The form of an even larger scarlet dragon appeared on his opposite side, it's massive body moving and whipping like a live flame. "Do not listen to her, you should get out of here right now… Go! Before it's too late!"
Zuko gripped the sides of his throne, unable to move despite the red dragon's warning.
The blue dragon slithered back to his side, "Sleep now Fire Lord Zuko…" he suddenly became very aware of her multiple rows of sharp teeth, bared for him to see as her forked tongue swiped across her shining fangs. "Sleep just like mother!"
Azula finally lunged for him, but before she could sink her teeth into him she vanished in a storm of blue fire, the flames licking at his skin and burning. The fire consumed him, but before the pain became too much he heard his mother scream.
"Zuko! Help me!" her voice was so clear as Zuko desperately reached out for her.
"Mom!" he shouted, trying to force his body to move but it was useless, the dark had already overcome him again.
Zuko woke up screaming for his mother, feeling like his skin was on fire. Another voice let out a startled scream beside him, and he turned to see Moro holding a wet rag and staring at him.
"Hey." She said.
Zuko registered that he was in the apartment on his futon, and was only wearing his underwear under the blanket. Usually he'd be embarrassed to be nearly naked in front of a girl, but it was just Moro. Worst case scenario she'd laugh at his nudity before moving on like it didn't even matter.
"Hey…" he replied, wincing at how hoarse his voice was. "How long have I been asleep?"
She shrugged, dipping the rag in a bowl of water and ringing it out before wiping his forehead. "About a day and a half? Maybe?" he gently pushed her hand away, trying to stand, but she did that thing he hated where she pushed her finger into the crease between his eyebrows. She grabbed his shoulders and pushed him back down into bed. "Nope, back to bed."
"I'm fine…" even as he said it he felt lightheaded, not protesting as Moro gave him a ladle of water and placed the damp rag back on his forehead.
Then she did something he didn't know how to process, she started petting his hair and humming. The feeling of her rough fingers through his hair was… nice.
"Akai hana tsunde, Ano hito ni age yo…" she sang softly, a peaceful look on her face, probably not even aware she was doing it.
Zuko felt his eyes grow heavy again, succumbing to his exhaustion and falling back asleep, the thought of that song still in his mind.
The song his mother used to sing to him after his nightmares.
When he woke up Moro was gone, and Iroh was nowhere to be found either, but he was feeling much better, so he decided to walk to the washroom himself.
The cool water was heaven on his clammy skin, but something about his face didn't… feel right.
Zuko looked up into the mirror to see the arrow-headed face of the Avatar, and screamed.
He came out of his nightmare feeling nauseous, grabbing a thankfully nearby bucket and emptying his stomach into it. Iroh rubbed his back, muttering comforts while he tasted bile in his already dry mouth.
"It will be alright nephew, you're almost through the worst of it now." He explained, forcing him to drink water slowly so he wouldn't throw that up too.
Zuko briefly noticed Moro's absence, briefly wanting to ask where she was but shaking off the urge once he saw his uncle preparing tea. As much as he scoffed at his tea obsession, a cup of his jasmine was enough to make him try to stomach anything.
The tea was amazing as usual, warm and blooming with the taste of toasted rice, a flavor he'd only ever found in the Earth Kingdom and grew to appreciate in his reluctant travels.
He didn't feel as sweaty anymore, now that he'd thrown up everything in his stomach, and Iroh's tea was better than any lullaby, it's warmth in his stomach lulling him back to a hopefully more peaceful slumber.
This time, Zuko didn't feel afraid as he felt the dark surround him like a blanket.
Zuko woke up beneath the blue sky, and knew he was dreaming again.
He wasn't wearing anything different or being surrounded by dragons that sounded like his family, but he was outside, in a forest with trees that stretched up so high that some of their branches brushed against the clouds.
He stood up, seeing that the forest seeped out past where he could see, just trees on all sides of him.
It was peaceful, or at least it would have been, but Zuko quickly became aware of movement heard in the bushes ahead of him.
He fell into a firebending stance, something deep in his gut telling him whatever was out in the forest was watching him.
The rustling began to circle him, becoming louder and faster as he tried to spin on his feet and keep his eyes on it, despite not knowing whatever it was. The cracking of branches suddenly stopped, and Zuko found himself staring into a pair of narrowed, feral red eyes.
A growl thundered out as a tiger lunged for him from the underbrush. The tiger wasn't normal, it was golden with fire blazing out from it's paws and it's tail split into two. He barely managed to evade it's attack, rolling out of the way as it skittered to a stop in front of him.
It's large saber-like teeth shone as it growled, the two of them circling each other in a tense dance in the middle of the forest.
Zuko shot a fireball at the animal before it lunged for him again with a roar, everything around him changing in an instant before the two adversaries could meet in battle. Instead of the clearing of a never-ending forest, he was somewhere he knew exceptionally well.
He was back home, in the garden of the Fire Nation Palace in the Capitol City.
Specifically, he was sitting in front of the turtle duck pond, where he'd sit with his mother and sister until Azula became old enough to hate him and Ursa left him alone. His reflection in the water was the same, scar and all, but he was wearing the Fire Lord's crown. Why this dream wasn't filled with dragons and tigers and death was still a mystery, but he didn't know how to feel about being back home.
The doors to the garden suddenly opened, and Zuko was immediately on his guard, but his wariness quickly morphed into confusion when he saw a familiar face.
Moro came out into the garden, lighting up at the sight of him, and wearing a kimono that was way too fancy for her. She seemed to think so too, since her obi was crooked and one of her sleeves drooped improperly off her shoulder. But she wasn't dirty, was wearing shoes, and there was even kohl lining her eyes… she was wearing makeup.
She seemed to hear someone else coming, because she rushed over to him and dragged him behind a tree, Zuko watching a maid come into the garden looking exasperated before huffing and stomping back into the palace. Moro giggled into her hand, Zuko seeing up close how the black around her eyes made her blue and yellow irises look even brighter.
He felt himself laugh too, actually glad his friend was by his side even in a dream.
He watched her stick her tongue out in the maid's direction before coming out from behind the tree and beginning to walk back towards the palace doors.
She suddenly stopped, turning back to him and holding her hand out for him to take.
"You coming?"
Zuko stared at her hand, stared at her, in her kimono patterned with tigers and plum blossoms, and smiled.
He tried to take her hand, and walk back to the palace with Moro, but she almost instantly faded away in his grasp.
And he woke up.
He woke up feeling… really good.
He felt really awake for the first time in years, for so long he'd felt heavy and tired from the weight of his mission, but for the first time he just felt… normal. Like nothing was expected of him, and nothing was keeping him from happiness.
He felt free.
He simply… was.
Iroh didn't seem to be around, but Moro was lying close to him, her cheek on her open palm and a trail of drool snaking between her fingers. On any other day he would have sneered with disgust, but today he just smiled, draping a blanket over her and walking into the kitchen to make breakfast.
His uncle did eventually return to see his nephew working over a steaming pot of stew, and Moro just beginning to rub sleep from her eyes.
"Welcome back, Uncle." Zuko greeted, a smile on his face that was genuinely sending Iroh for a loop. He exchanged a glance with Moro, who looked just as surprised. "I made stew, I figured you'd both be hungry."
He filled a bowl and handed it to the odd-eyed girl, her blinking up at him, dumbfounded.
"Who are you and what have you done with Zuko?" she asked, gladly taking the bowl and digging in.
His nephew chuckled, "I've hidden him somewhere and will only tell you where he is in exchange for your stash of melon bread."
She laughed loudly, "You've vastly underestimated how much I love food over Zuko."
Zuko sat next to her with his own bowl of stew, and nudged her with his shoulder. She nudged him back and the two laughed as they ate, Iroh taking it all in with a thankful smile on his face.
He made to prepare his own meal and join them when an urgent knock came at the front door. "I'll get it!" Moro chirped, setting her bowl aside and jogging to the door.
Of all the people that could have knocked on their door at such an hour, Zuko wasn't expecting it to be Mrs. Linh, the herbalist who apparently taught Moro the art of the hustle.
"Moro!" she cried, "Where have you been?! Everyone has been looking for you!"
Confusion and alarm spread through the apartment like wildfire, the girl in question flinching when Mrs. Linh grabbed her arm in a vice-like grip.
"It's Esra…"
The old woman dissolved into tears, and Moro stood frozen as unadulterated fear and horror spread across her face.
Anyone with theories about Zuko's dreams i'd love to hear them! And yeah things are about to get pretty damn sad so you'd better gear up. Stay tuned!