A/N – Pre-BOTW.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Zuko's first thoughts upon awakening were not—shockingly—about the Avatar or honor.

Those topics did come up early and often, but not first.

First he'd feel the stir of inner fire, and the poke of sunrise, then the steady throb of the Wani's engines underneath the iron floors reminding him that they faced another day of chasing a flying bison. This was usually followed by morning meditation on deck, where Zuko could keep one eye closed, one eye open and trained on the sky for any cattle-shaped clouds. Uncle often joined him with a cup of tea. "Prince Zuko," he'd drone, droll and smiling. "Surely the watchman would be able to tell you if the Avatar flies above. Will you not take a rest and share breakfast with your Uncle, hmm?"

On a good day, Zuko would grumble and agree. On a bad day, Zuko would say something snappy about 'tea not being breakfast, Uncle!' before resuming his squinting-contest with the sky.

Most days began with the snappy option.

But now, the first thing Zuko felt as he woke was the warmth on the sun on his forehead, which was wrong for two reasons:

A ) If a firebender slept so late that the noon sun shook them awake, then they were either sick, injured, or hungover.

B ) The port in Zuko's quarters was situated in a way that sunlight never hit the cot. Ergo, he was not on the Wani. A faint breeze and the feel of grass and dirt under his hands further supported that conclusion.

Zuko forced his eyes open.

A person with hair the color of honey was staring down at him.

Shit. Zuko didn't bother biting back a hissed swear, and he sat up, suddenly awake. His head throbbed at the motion, but Zuko ignored it. There were bigger problems at hand than a headache—he was sitting in a thin forest, with no water in sight, no Wani in sight, no Uncle in sight (not that Zuko was looking). And, most appallingly of all, no Avatar in sight.

Just a patch of wilderness and some stranger with the most unnaturally colored hair Zuko had ever seen.

"What is this?" Zuko said, voice scratchier than he would have liked. Just for good measure, he let his natural scowl settle deeper. "Where am I?"

Zuko wasn't comforted to realize that the questions were genuine; his memory felt scrambled. The last pieces of normalcy he remembered were stopping at an Earth Kingdom port for supplies, and stalking into the local woods on his own because of a tip he'd overheard at the docks:

"Old Man Si gave my kid a heart attack," Unimportant Dockhand #1 had said. Zuko had listened from the Wani's deck, map half-unfolded in front of him.

Unimportant Dockhand #2 had snorted. "Because your kid believes anything. Just like her daddy."

Dockhand #1 made a whiny noise. "Don't joke like that. She was really spooked. And to be quite frank, so was I."

"Uh-huh. Because you're the most gullible person from here to Ba Sing Se. Maybe farther."

A loud sniff that even Zuko had been able to hear from his listening-not-eavesdropping post at the rail. "Living in the backwoods like that, you don't think he knows about the stuff living in there?"

"Yeah. If by stuff you mean mushrooms and shit." Dockhand #2 chuckled. "Not spirits and magic trees like he tells you suckers."

Dockhand #1 sighed the sigh of someone doomed to repeat the same argument a million times, and muttered, "You want to know what he told her or not?"

"Not really."

"He said there's a tree spirit." Dockhand #1's voice had gone so low that Zuko strained to make out the words. "Big, old tree, deep down in the sticks.

"No." Sarcasm dripped off every word like molasses. "A tree. In the woods? Call the authorities."

"Old Man said," Dockhand #1 pressed on, blissfully ignorant, "it's a magic tree. Knows a whole bunch of secrets. About you. About the world at large. Knows the answer to anything you care to ask it. That's what Old Man Si said."

"Old Man Si is a nutcase. And how come that story spooked you? It's not even scary—"

"It's absolutely terrifying! You like the idea of a tree spirit that can spill all your secrets—"

Zuko didn't recall the particulars after that. That was enough. He'd left word with the first mate (Uncle, blessedly, had been out in town flirting with locals or buying new torture-devices-nee-instruments to shove at Zuko; if the old man had been aboard Zuko knew he'd insist on accompanying him) and headed off to find this forest. Old-Man-Whatever was probably the town kook, and the magic tree was probably a cactus-juice induced illusion. Still, if there was a chance for some lead on the Avatar, Zuko intended to pursue it.

So, then…was this the forest he'd wandered into? That would certainly make sense. He couldn't recall ever reaching the tree or heading back to the ship.

It wouldn't explain the baffling appearance of this stranger.

"Well?" Zuko demanded, fire rising in his stomach.

Honey Hair blinked, expression unreadable. That was rare. Zuko's volume alone usually elicited a grimace or narrowed eyes or something. He tried again. "I will not ask a third time. Where am I?"

At least Honey-Hair gave a response; he cocked his head, then tapped his breastplate. Or, rather, the symbol on the breastplate. It was some sort of winged crest. And it told Zuko absolutely nothing.

"That's not an explanation!" Zuko felt heat seeping through his clenched hands, and he shoved the flames down with a mental broomstick. Breathe, Zuko, Uncle's phantom voice echoed in his ear. He tried to. "Is this—" Shit. What was the name of that greasy Earth Kingdom port?— "Which way to the village?"

Instead of answering, Honey Hair stood up. How rude. Some peasants had no idea how to act in the presence of royalty. Curse the Earth Kingdom and its backwater, mud-slinging ways.

Zuko tried to follow suit—for no reason other than he wasn't through yelling yet—but a pain blossomed in his knee when he tried to stand.

Honey Hair noticed, and his brows knelt into a tiny frown, even if his mouth didn't.

With a grunt, Zuko got up anyway, less because he knew which way to go once he was standing, and more to prove that he could. His knee protested the moment he put pressure through his heel. Smoke curled from Zuko's fingertips; it was more comforting than the shame curling in his stomach like a snake, because of course he'd been clumsy and stupid enough to injure himself, even if the minutia of how he'd injured himself were fuzzy at the moment. Lucky to be born indeed.

(Another poke of discomfort at Zuko's brain at the fact he truly didn't know how he'd been hurt. Suspicious.)

Honey Hair was regarding him with a critical gaze, and before Zuko could repeat his question, Honey Hair raised his fingers to his lips and blew and shrill, two-tone note.

It was ear-splitting. Honey Hair was unperturbed.

"Tell me how to get back to the port," Zuko spat, shoving down the shame and shoveling anger into its place. It was easier fuel to burn. "I need to find my ship."

Honey Hair was fantastic at ignoring Zuko's half-yelled orders. He was watching the tree line intently instead, patiently rocking in place.

Every second I waste here is a second the Avatar is getting farther away, and another second I leave Uncle waiting, a slightly desperate voice in the back of Zuko's mind piped up. One of the two points was more important than the other. Zuko would not be clarifying which one held more weight, and he opened his mouth to ambiguously protest both—

Out came a startled croak as, in a grand cacophony of snapping shrubbery, the biggest, loudest, four-legged, fat-necked ostrich horse Zuko could imagine burst onto the scene.

What. Was. That. Thing.

It was smaller than a rhino, but bigger than an ostrich horse, with four hooved feet and a mop of hair along its neck. A small, turtleduck-loving piece of Zuko noted that there was a majestic air to the beast, once one got over the initial shock. However, the majority of Zuko balked when Honey Hair tipped his chin at the animal and pointed to Zuko in tandem. The message was clear. You. On that.

Zuko crossed his arms, tightened his jaw, and sent a clear message of his own by pointedly turning away and stepping in the opposite direction.

His knee almost gave way, and he stumbled into a nearby tree.

So. Walking back the Wani (wherever she may be) might not be a brilliant plan.

Honey Hair didn't comment, but he did take the fat-necked ostrich horse's halter, pulling it towards Zuko so that no walking was necessary to mount the creature.

If this was a kidnapping attempt, it was…fortuitous, at best. Honey Hair hadn't tied Zuko up. Honey Hair was alone. Zuko shifted his shoulders just to be sure—yes, his dual dao were still strapped onto his back, so Honey Hair hadn't disarmed him, either. It didn't make climbing onto the beast appealing, per se, but it did assuage some of the doubt that had crept into Zuko's throat. There would be no end to the shame if he assisted in his own kidnapping, even if alternatives were thin on the ground.

Honey Hair raised an expectant brow.

"I need to get to the village," Zuko said, edging forward an inch. It was stupid for a stranger to extend such an olive branch, but… "I would—I mean, if you take me into the village, I can compensate you for your time." Hopefully, Zuko added internally. The Wani's funds were in constant flux, but if nothing else he could pawn that idiotic sungi horn that Uncle was constantly shoving at him.

A nod from Honey Hair, who, Zuko was now realizing, had pointed ears. Another jab of worry hit Zuko, except instead of a poke, it was more of a gut-piercing stab. Did the whole warped image—the strange hair and ears, the distinct lack of talking—mean that this was some sort of spirit? Old Man knows about the stuff living there, they'd said.

Spirit or not, there wasn't much of a choice, the pragmatic side of Zuko decided, not with the way his knee threatened to go on strike after one measly step. Potential Spirit Honey Hair took a polite step back as Zuko pivoted on a lone heel, shuffled towards the beast with a limp so pronounced it was practically a hop, and pulled himself onto the saddle. Small mercy that the mount felt similar to riding an ostrich-horse, albeit a bit higher up. As soon as Zuko settled, Honey Hair took the reins and marched quietly into the woods, Zuko and the beast in tow.

Zuko really, really hoped this wasn't a kidnapping attempt.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Honey Hair seemed disinclined to break his silence—if his armor didn't make a small 'clank' every time he took a step, he'd have been nigh near invisible. Zuko didn't bother to try and chat, since small talk had never been his forte, anyway. "A garden with an abundance of flowers has many admirers, Prince Zuko," Uncle would say. Which made no sense, like all of Uncle's proverbs.

(Uncle spouted that gem every time Zuko has a conversation that opened with "Do you know where the Avatar is?" and ended with, "No, no one's seen the Avatar in years." One night Zuko laid in is bed, squinted at the ceiling and tried to figure out what the hell Uncle was attempting to say, but that had been a dead end, as usual).

If nothing else the quiet meant Zuko was free to try and piece together what happened the night before. Bits were beginning to float back: he'd made it to the forest without issue, and the brush was thin enough to waltz in at will. That presented a new anomaly that tightened the noose of dread. He'd walked into a forest of pines last night. Zuko glanced up, just to be sure—yes, he observed with a frown. Nary a pine in sight. Here, all the trees were awash with reds and yellows.

He still couldn't remember finding the mysterious tree. Only memories of the night rolling in, and of snapping a flame into his palm when the branches began to melt into a single black shadow. A grudging realization that this was a fool's errand, and a vow to turn back within the hour if nothing come up. and the borderline irrational fear that the Avatar was at the very moment making loop-de-loops above the Wani, while Zuko just so happened to be away.

Zuko dug deeper, staring at the not-ostrich-horse's mane like the answer to all this nonsense was hidden in the tufts. Fumed silently when he came up empty.

At least it helped to pass the time. Zuko was excellent at silent fuming.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

The sun had only moved a few degrees by the time they exited the forest and switched to a dusty dirt road. Zuko had swiveled this way and that, trying to pick out any familiar landmarks, but there were none. Just dirt road, tree line, and grass. He'd settled back into Fuming Position #4.

Zuko only glanced up from his thinking, not brooding—when new sounds came into earshot. Civilization's sounds. A flute-like instrument being played, the faint crack of a campfire. When they rounded a particularly high knoll, a voice called out, "Linkie? Back so soon?"

They'd come to a fork in the road, and the population of this weird place had jumped from 2 + a fat-necked ostrich-horse, to ten + many fat-necked ostrich-horse. A stable, Zuko grudgingly realized. He'd be willing to bet that the man who'd flagged them down, currently strolling out to meet them, was a stablehand by the sheer amount of course hair clinging to them. (Give another tug to the Noose of Dread, a voice inside Zuko's head hissed; there was no village in sight, just the sad, pile-of-sticks excuse for a stable).

"And you brought company?" Stablehand added, with an appraising look at Zuko. The appraisal abruptly stopped when he caught sight of the prince. "Wow. Yikes. What happened to your face?"

The only thing keeping Zuko from erupting into flame was a grudging consideration for the fat-necked ostrich horse underneath him. It didn't stop him from seething. "How dare you-who—who asks something like that?"

"Mm," was all Nosy Stablehand said. Then, after a beat of silence, "So, are you gonna tell me, or—?"

"No!"

With a shrug (the nonchalance of it announcing he'd no idea how close he came to becoming a kabob) Stablehand turned his attention to Honey Hair. Linkie, Zuko amended. Whatever. "I thought you were on a standard patrol. Where'd you find this guy?"

Hon—Linkie tipped his head back at the forest they'd left behind, which was to Zuko an appallingly inadequate answer, but seemed to satisfy Stablehand.

"Huh. Weird. Anyone else with him?"

A head-shake from Linkie.

"I can answer for myself," Zuko growled. He would have hopped off the not-ostrich horse to yell the words in Stablehand's face, only he wasn't positive that his knee wouldn't buckle under him if he tried. So Zuko settled for leaning over and snarling, "I am Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation and I demand that you tell me where this place is. And who you are. And where my ship is." Then, because why the hell not, "And if you have any information on the whereabouts of the Avatar, I demand you release it to me."

Stablehand snickered—snickered!—and held both of his hands up, palms forward. It would have been a show of surrender if not for the amusement slathered all over his face. "Whoa-kay, there, fancypants. Manners."

"I don't need—"

"I'm Fabian," Stablehand plowed on as if the Fire Prince himself hadn't interrupted. He gestured to Honey Hair, whose gaze was bouncing back and forth between them like a rubber ball. "You've already met Link. But that's Link."

For some reason, the only stupefied thought that Zuko could process through the rage of being ignored was I thought you called him Linkie.

"And—let's see—you are at the bee-utiful Akkala stable. Run by me. In the beautiful northern slice of the Akkala region. And I don't know where you ship is. Linkie, did you see his ship?"

Another head shake from Link/ie.

Zuko narrowed his eyes. Well. Eye. The one was perpetually narrow, which was annoying in combat but helpful for intimidation. "More general than that," he barked at Stablehand. "What Kingdom is this? Earth Kingdom? How close are we to Ba Sing Se?" he added as an afterthought. Not that Zuko had any desire to visit the impenetrable walls, but Ba Sing Se was an anchor in the ocean of land that was the Earth Kingdom. Except it wasn't ocean. It was all land, Ba Sing Se was just a landmark, and it wasn't in the ocean, and Zuko was infinitely glad these thoughts were safe in his own head instead of tumbling out his mouth. Ba Sing Se was big. That was all. You could measure where you were in the Earth Kingdom by 'days to Ba Sing Se'.

Stablehand stroked his chin, frowning. "Ba Sing Se?"

"Yes, Ba Sing Se."

"I don't know where that is. That where you from?"

Zuko tried to keep his jaw off the floor. Impossible. Everyone knew Ba Sing Se. This man was either a liar or an idiot. "Wha—no! What do you mean, you don't know where that is?"

Stablehand shrugged. "Never heard of Ba Sing Se."

A liar, then. Even Fire Nation children, who knew nothing of the Earth Kingdom except what good tinder it would make for Ozai's bonfire, had heard of Ba Sing Se. "That's ridiculous," Zuko hissed, gaze narrowing even more. "Everyone knows Ba Sing Se."

"Here's the thing, though. I don't." Unbothered, Stablehand tipped his chin toward Link, who was still patiently holding the reigns, watching. "Linkie gets around. Maybe he knows it. Linkie, you ever been to a 'Ba Sing Se'?"

Stablehand had turned to face Link, and Link studied his face carefully when he spoke. If Zuko wasn't paying close attention, he would have missed the sliver of a frown, the faster than normal blink, and the tiny circular hand motion that Link made in response. Like his fingertip was tracing a spool in the air.

"Ba. Sing. Se," Stablehand repeated, words slow and deliberate. "Ever been? Ever heard of it?"

Link's head-shake was slower, unsure, eyes studying Stablehand's face like it was a map and he would find the city there. (Zuko tucked a different piece of information away—Honey Hair had blue eyes. How had he not noticed this before? Blue eyes were relegated to the Water Tribe, weren't they? And that made even less sense because with Water-Tribe blue eyes came dark skin and dark hair, things that Link distinctly did NOT have. Spirits, this was a confusing place).

"Mm. Bummer. Sorry, Zurro—"

"Prince Zuko!"

"Sorry." Stablehand had the grace to sound a smidge apologetic. "Link here's probably been over every inch of Hyrule and back. If he doesn't know this Ba Sing Se place, no one will."

Zuko latched onto the new word like it was a piece of driftwood and he was drowning at sea. "Hyrule? Is Hyrule a city? A region?" If it was some sort of feat to have trod 'every inch and back', then Hyrule had to be on maps. It had to be. "We are in the Earth Kingdom, aren't we?"

If the answer was no—Zuko swatted that train of thought away. No. Father would understand.

Father was…understanding.

"Uh…I suppose?" Zuko's heart lifted until Stablehand added, "That is, there is earth here? As in soil. So yes. I suppose you could say this is an earth kingdom."

Zuko saw no answer to such an asinine claim. He settled for a guttural yell instead.

Stablehand did the chin-stroke motion again. Which was completely superfluous. It wasn't like he had a beard to boast of. "And—now, don't take this the wrong way—but are you saying you've never heard of Hyrule?"

"That's what I've been saying ever since he-" here, Zuko made an accusatory gesture in Link's general direction— "crossed my path! Now stop babbling and explain!"

He was shouting, but Zuko gave himself a pass. This was getting weird. Weird for even a banished prince on an Avatar manta-goose chase. The steadily worsening throb in his knee did nothing to improve the mood. Zuko yelled because the alternative was setting the pile-of-sticks stables ablaze with an errant fireball, and as infuriating as Stablehand was, the fat-neck-ostrich horses didn't deserve to burn alive.

Stablehand huffed in a half-laugh, and he motioned to Link with a whole-arm wave, "Scoot this way. Yeah," he said, when Link had obligingly shuffled farther in front of the fat-neck-horse, so that he was fully in Zuko's view. "Hyrule is—and I don't know how you don't know this—a country. This country. The one we are currently in. See that crest?" Stablehand pointed to Link's breastplate, just as the boy had done earlier.

Zuko scowled. "Of course I see it. I'm not blind." And he also wasn't an idiot; he could put two and two together (and get four, not thirty, thank you very much Azula). "That's your…crest?"

"Yep." Stablehand nodded, sure and slow. "Crest of the Hylian royal family. Link here is a bona fide guard up at Hyrule Castle, hence the getup. Sometimes even sets eye on King Rhoam or Princess Zelda in the flesh!"

King. Oh, this was absolutely the Earth Kingdom, Zuko decided, adjusting his mental map. None of the other nations were scatterbrained enough to have a king ruling over every teepee in the woods. They were probably deep in the back country, though. Stupid magic forests, with their inconsiderate and completely illogical topography.

Deep enough to where no one has heard of Ba Sing Se? a dubious, skeptical voice in the back of Zuko's mind piped up.

Before he could conjure up a mental rebuttal, the 'chink' of Link's armor moving caught his ear, and he glanced down to see Link take the fat-neck's bridle and urge it onward with a gentle pull. They were moving towards the stable.

"Let me down," Zuko demanded, anger boiling to the surface again. "I refuse to be held hostage—"

"Mm. Link?" Stablehand, who'd fallen into step beside them as if he'd been invited, hummed and joined Link at the front of the beast. Zuko wished he had a better angle. As it was, he could only hear Stablehand repeat, "Are you gonna let him down?"

Link stopped. Leaned back, around the animal's head, and looked Zuko up and down. His eyes lingered on Zuko's knee.

"I'm fine," Zuko snapped. It was an automatic response. The consequences for not being fine were always worse than the pain of pretending everything was peachy.

With a soft sigh, Link stepped back and nodded once, which was as close to an invitation as Zuko was going to get. Zuko hitched his tender leg over the saddle. Shit. It hurt and Zuko eyed the ground with malice before deciding screw it and jumping down anyway. He managed to catch most of his weight on his right leg. Stablehand didn't seem to notice. Link definitely did.

Stablehand did notice when Zuko took a step forward and got a mouthful of dirt. "You okay?" he asked, peering down at Zuko with a raised brow.

"I'm fine." Maybe if one repeated the phrase enough it would magically come true. Zuko bit back a bark of morbid laughter. As if repeating anything three times wouldn't bring a curse down on his head, given his luck.

"What'd you do to your leg?"

"I didn't do anything! I just fell!" Zuko hollered, face flushing. "There's nothing wrong with my leg!"

"We should check. Just to be sure." Stablehand took the fat-neck's reigns and led the beast away with a soft click. "Here, I'll put her away. Lean on Linkie there and head in to the stable, alright? One of the travelers is a medic. I'll send her by." And then there was no time for Zuko to protest, since a honey-headed figure appeared at his side and offered an armored arm.

Zuko swatted it away. Again. Instinct. Azula would never have to 'lean on' some backwards earth kingdom dust-mite, the grumbly voice in Zuko's head put in.

He took another stubborn step forward.

The only reason he didn't slap his nose into the dirt a second time was because Link slipped under his arm and took half his weight.

Uncle always tsk-tsked that Zuko was stubborn, and even if—if—Uncle were right, Zuko wasn't a total meathead. He would have loved to shove the pipsqueak away, refraining only because his leg was undeniably screwed. It wasn't normal to feel a joint swelling like a balloon under his armor. Zuko suppressed a shudder. No need to dwell on that imagery.

His attention turned, grudgingly, to Link instead, who was indeed a pipsqueak. Zuko hadn't been in a position to notice it until now, what with being on his back, then being on a not-ostrich-horse's back, then being belly down in the dirt, but the pair of them side by side made Zuko feel taller than usual. There was a solid half-head height gap. Earth Kingdom genes really were inferior.

(Earth Kingdom genes didn't come in those shades, though—)

Zuko shushed that thought and returned his efforts to walking. He refused to show any pain—though, spirits knew, there was pain—save for a small hiss when his heel hit a rock and his leg protested. At least Link politely refrained from reacting.

Link politely refrained from talking, period, Zuko amended. An annoying habit, when one wanted information about where they were in relation to Ba Sing Se, but not completely unwelcome. Zuko didn't mind contemplative silences. He wasn't like Azula in that way; Azula liked how her voice sounded and took no pause in painting the air with it, be it with a snappy comment or a laugh or what have you. This was preferable to that. The prolonged silence did, however, beg the Spirit Theory again. Zuko frowned. Stablehand certainly hadn't treated Honey Hair like a spirit, and though Zuko hadn't had much experience with spirits overall, he expected some level of detachment from the physical world. An ethereal glow, intangible touch, that sort of thing. Link was sturdy under his arm and radiated a normal amount of heat for a non-firebender, neither of which were very spirt-like at all.

The stable hadn't been far, another tally for Zuko's Small Mercies (a pitiful total overall; Zuko's lifetime ratio of Small Mercies against Small F-You's was for the record books). Once they'd reached the entrance, Link deposited Zuko on the first available bed, then stood there with occasional glances at the door.

Zuko took a steadying breath. Calm. "I said I'd compensate you for taking me back to the village. And I will. Uh. As soon as I get back to my ship."

Link ignored him in favor of watching the doorway.

Impolite, spirit or not. He tried again. "Where's the nearest port?"

More ignoring. The wisp of calm that Zuko managed to wrangle slipped away like a tendril of smoke. "Are you even listening to me?" Zuko half-groaned, half-yelled, hands slamming into the bed. At least the action caught Link's attention; he regarded Zuko with a barely-raised brow, as if getting chewed out by the (former) (but soon to be reinstated) crown prince was old hat. "Well? Do you know it or not? Didn't that stablehand say you've been all over the place?"

To Zuko's bewilderment, Link just shrugged, almost apologetic.

"That's not an answer—" Zuko began.

He was cut off when a head poked through the entrance of the stable with a meek, "Someone needed a medic?"

Link pointed to Zuko concurrent with Zuko's snippy, "I do not need your barbaric Earth medicine!"

Medic was a small woman who, somehow, was still a hair taller than Link, and she too proved all too adept at the Art of Ignoring Zuko, since she let herself in anyway and wandered over the bed with a knapsack. "Link seems to think you do," she said, voice mild.

"All I need is to know where I am and where my ship is!"

The Art continued: "Where's he hurt?" Medic asked Link.

Did this people want to be set on fire? Was that their goal? "I'm fine!"

Stablehand chose that moment to stick his head through the entryway, too. "How's his leg looking, Oph?"

"I just got here," Medic grumbled. At least she addressed her question to Zuko this time. "Leg, then? Which one?"

"Left," Zuko grumbled.

It only occurred to him after the fact, he could've lied and said right, and perhaps have got away from the Earth Medic unscathed. Idiot.

"What part?"

"Knee." Might as well go along with it now.

Medic carefully removed his shin guard, then rolled up the armored pant underneath. "I've never seen this type of armor before. Is it…Zora?"

How did a medic not know what Fire Nation armor looked like, when the entire world had been at war with the Fire Nation for a hundred years? Another, bigger knot of dread tied in Zuko's stomach for the third time since waking up with Honey-Hair in his peripheral. One or two ignorant peasants, he could overlook. Strange hair and eyes and ears could be a spirit or some freak genetic mutation. A weird animal he'd never heard of could be brushed aside. But medics—medics were all acquainted with the war, even if it was indirectly. Every village healer grumbled at the shortage of bandages. The fact that you couldn't buy ferret-root for love nor money. "It's…" Zuko decided to try something new. What had Uncle called it? Tact? "I don't know what Zora is."

"Oh. Sorry. It's a people. Hold still and tell me if this hurts," Medic added, fingers pressing at Zuko's now-exposed knee. "Down in Zora's domain. They're a half-fish sort of folk."

The Tact Train was promptly abandoned. "Do I look like—like fish folk to you?"

"Sorry." Medic frowned. "Does this hurt?"

At the next prod, Zuko's knee spasmed, and he swatted her hands away, which seemed to be answer enough. "Mm. I thought so. One last poke. Tell me if this hurts."

Medic proceeded to poke in what felt like the exact same spot as before, and Zuko jerked back on reflex.

"It's a sprain." Medic nodded, slow and sagely, in a way that made Zuko's heart tighten with familiarity. "I've seen that before."

"It's fine," Zuko insisted, brushing that thought away. Sure, his knee was swelling, and if he tried to bend it the results might be…subpar, but he'd handled worse.

"It will be fine," agreed Medic (and Zuko tried to hide his shock, medics rarely agreed with his internal assessments), then, "After you rest it for a while. I'd stay off that leg for a few days. And avoid strenuous activity for a week or two."

"I can't do that." Zuko crossed his arms, mental gears turning. "I need to get back to my ship."

Medic pursed her lips. "Your ship?"

"Yes, my ship. Floats on water. Made of metal. Fire Nation."

"I don't know how you'd be looking for a ship out here. We're pretty far from the major ports."

At long last, they were getting somewhere. "How far, exactly?" As in, would he need to commandeer a day's worth of supplies and a fat-neck horse, or a week's worth and also a fat-neck horse?

"Well. For a coastline port? In the East, you'd have to made it down to Hateno. Or Lurelin, which is a bit farther down. I've never ventured that way, but I think—Link? How many days to travel to Hateno?"

Link—who'd been, once again, watching their conversation with zipped lips and eagle eyes—scrunched up his face in a frown.

"Maybe…three days?"

A hesitant nod from Link, but with an emphatic thumb-jab outside.

"Right. Three days, maybe two if you're on a good horse and riding strong," Medic said. "It's a shorter trip to the port at Hyrule Castle. That's a freshwater port, though. That trip I have made; it took me two days, but I hate riding fast. Link makes it in one. Or a night, apparently, if you're willing to ride through the dark and switch horses twice on the route."

Zuko discarded that information. The Wani wasn't shallow-hulled or nimble enough to make it through rivers and there was no way they'd dock at a castle, anyway. "Fine. I need to get to the coastline port immediately. Is there—some sort of map?"

"None here." Medic soured. "And you'd be wise to rest up here for a few days, instead of heading off straightaway. Knee and all."

"I don't have time for that," Zuko snapped, the speech familiar and wrapping around his shoulders like a warm, rage-laced blanket. "I have a mission. I will not fail. And I will not waste time dawdling at some backwoods stable when I could be out searching for—" maybe it would be unwise to mention the Avatar to the healer, since even these cretins would know who the Avatar was and may not take kindly to someone out for his capture— "my mission," Zuko finished lamely.

Smooth as crunchy peanut butter.

Medic grumbled something that Zuko couldn't make out before she sighed. "Mm. You're not from around here, right?"

"No." Zuko tried not to spit sparks, but wasn't that part obvious?

"Not even from Hyrule? Fab said you'd never heard of it before."

Breathe, nephew. "No!"

"Mm," Medic hummed again. Then, with a head-tilt at Link, "In that case, if you're serious about making it all the way to Hateno, it might be smart to have Link accompany you. Just to be safe."

The idea was equal parts insulting, flabbergasting, and—to Zuko's eternal shame—relieving. Insulting and Flabbergasting still held the majority, though. "I don't need himto escort me! Just tell me which direction it is and I can handle it from there!"

"Don't take it personal," Medic said, with a blasé hand-wave. "It's easy to get turned around out there. If I ever had to travel farther than the castle I'd get Link to take me, and I'm a born and bred Hylian."

Zuko sputtered like a broken faucet.

"Besides. If you're trying to get somewhere fast, I guarantee Link will get you there faster. We can requisition horses for the pair of you."

Oh.

That did make sense.

It was still…unsavory, Zuko supposed, to get help from a total stranger. An Earth-Kingdom stranger whose motivations Zuko could only guess. But then, the alternative was probably worse, and was certainly slower, making it hard for Zuko to turn down the offer that was being laid in his lap. Still. "Why would you offer that?" he asked, gaze narrowing.

"Just call it Akkala hospitality." Medic snorted a laugh, then added, "Or. Central hospitality. Since it's Link's time I'm so generously offering. Either way. We wouldn't let a lost, injured stranger strike out on his own."

Discomfort poked at Zuko's stomach. Right. If this offer was genuine, it was generous. "It's too far out of your way."

"Too far out of my way? Yes. Not too far out of Link's, though." As if to prove a point, Medic turned her body to face Honey Hair head on and asked, "Can you make sure this guy makes it to Hateno alright?"

Link nodded in his curt, one-stroke way. And then, before Zuko could interject one last time that it was too much to ask of a stranger, he'd marched out of the stable in a beeline for…something, armor clanking all the way.

"I didn't ask you to take me," Zuko grumbled, loudly, in Link's direction.

Surprise, surprise. He didn't react.

It was enough to send Zuko into another scowl. "Is he going to keep doing that?"

Medic raised a brow. "Doing what?"

"Ignoring me whenever I say something!" Zuko seethed. He was used to being ignored, but it had always been more subtle back in the Fire Nation court. Cold snubs that could be explained away with 'Whoops, Zuzu, I didn't hear you say you wanted that stuffed turtleduck, so I burned it, how sad.' Nothing so blatant as this.

"Oh. Well. Yes, he will." Medic stood up with a grimace and a stretch, then, "You haven't noticed that he doesn't…well, talk?"

Zuko blinked. He had, of course, realized that. He had not realized the two phenomena were connected. "Of course I noticed." Then, against his better judgement, "I thought maybe he was some sort of spirit. Or something." Which, when Zuko said it aloud, sounded incredibly stupid and he pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. When would he learn to stop saying dumb things?

"I'm not sure what you mean by that," Medic said, without much apparent appalment. "But it's no insult to you. He's going to ignore you for the same reason that he's not going to speak unless your life depends on it. Link can't hear."

For the second time that minute, understanding snapping into place in Zuko's mind.

His first thought: that makes sense.

His second and much louder thought: how?

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

(Note: 'Help Zuko' is now part of the Main Quest storyline and can be accessed by pressing '+') (Crossposted on ao3)