Author's Note: This chapter is dedicated to TheQuietReader23, one of my most faithful readers! I always appreciate your engaged, perceptive reviews and enjoy talking to you on Discord!
Though Zuko gave himself the first year of his reign to focus on enacting urgent reforms and solidifying his support in his own country, he found his attention drawn abroad often. As he settled into his position as Fire Lord, reparations became more than just an idea for a vacation theme, but the foundation of his foreign policy. He sent formal apologies and offers of aid to every place that had suffered from Fire Nation attack, occupation, or exploitation in the past century. Some of the leaders he corresponded with refused his offers out of pride, but most accepted with reserved dignity.
He had already made diplomatic trips to the North Pole and Ba Sing Se; now he and Mai traveled to Republic City, his friends' new home, to open an embassy and establish friendly diplomatic relations with the former colony, as well as participate in a little friendly bending competition, the proceeds of which benefitted a home for war orphans.
Zuko also made a stop at the Abbey where Jun had helped him track Aang, so that he could pay the nuns to replace the perfume that had been spilled to confuse the shirshu; including the huge shattered earthen jars, over a year of work had been lost. They gave a small vial of scent to acknowledge his penitential payment; he passed it on to Mai, who spread the perfume on her pulse points, intoxicating him with her aroma.
Next, he and his girlfriend accompanied Aang, Katara, Sokka, and Suki on a trip to the South Pole and Kyoshi Island, to present more economic aid, medicine, technological expertise, and stolen art treasures. On the way back to the Fire Nation, they visited the Southern Air Temple with Aang and Katara, so that the Fire Lord could pay his respects, and to allow his engineers and architects to make surveys for the restoration he planned to fund. Though his press secretary grumbled at the restriction, Zuko refused to use these appearances to burnish his public image, trying to keep them as small, intimate, and off-the-record as possible (the exception was his appearance in the pro bending arena). He didn't need to play the magnanimous ruler, passing out gifts, or to be praised for doing what he considered the bare minimum of decency.
Originally, Zuko had intended to ask Aang to accompany him for the entire reparations tour, but when it came time to plan his travel, he found that first of all, the airbender was too busy with his new position on the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. And besides, the young monarch found that he actually did not want the Avatar to ease his way through social situations that should be difficult and awkward for him. That would make it too easy, and he didn't want or deserve that. Especially since some of the guilt he carried was as much personal as it was national. Though he regretted not getting to spend the time with his friends, Zuko knew there were some things he needed to do without their support.
Zuko and Iroh came alone to the house, their guards and assistants left behind in town. They led three of the finest ostrich horses they could find, one of them laden with packages.
The girl and her mother came to the door.
"What do you want?" Song asked, her arms crossed.
"We came to apologize, and to repay you for what we stole." Zuko told her, bowing low.
"Three young thoroughbred ostrich horses, in exchange for our old nag?" The mother seemed pleased enough with the trade, and invited them in.
They shared a meal; Iroh and the older woman kept up most of the conversation. The tea lover had brought white jade tea as a gift for the girl who had cared for the rash he had suffered from his mistaken attempt at preparing this rare brew. They also offered a pouch of coins, a chest of medicines, and three live ducks, to replace the roast one they had been served so generously on their previous visit. Delighted with the presents, the mother chatted happily with the old man about his life in Ba Sing Se.
When dinner was finished, Song excused herself to sit alone on the porch. After a few minutes, Zuko gathered his courage and followed her.
Song sat tensely, arms wrapped around her legs, as if to comfort herself. The young Fire Lord sat down near her, facing in the same direction, and waited for her to speak.
"You think it's ok if you just roll in here with all of your money and fix everything? It's not ok." Her voice was more sad than angry.
"I know. And I'm sorry." Zuko responded readily. "But it's all I can do. I can't take it back or change the past, as much as I wish I could."
"There were strangers we turned away and refused to help, because you taught us not to trust people." Song informed him resentfully.
"I wish I could apologize to them as well." It had not occurred to him that his wrongdoing had rippled out in this way, affecting people he had never met, and the thought almost made the whole endeavor feel futile, but he reminded himself to focus on what was achievable, on the here and now.
She shook her head. "I knew you were poor and desperate. I saw you leaving with our ostrich horse and let you go, rather than stopping you. You must have needed it more than we did, I thought. When I figured out who you were, that you were the prince of the country that had attacked my village and captured my father, I felt so angry. You lied to us, and that was somehow even worse."
"I'm sorry," Zuko said again. The words felt paltry, useless. "I don't blame you for feeling that way. We didn't deserve your hospitality then, and we don't deserve your forgiveness now."
"I trusted you." The girl looked away, blushing. "I never show anyone my leg. I thought you were like me, just another victim of the Fire Nation."
"I am. At least, a victim of the former Fire Lord." Denouncing his father's abuse had also meant accepting his own status as a victim; it had been an important step in his journey toward rejecting his upbringing. Something told him it was unfair of him to compare their wounds, though. "But of course it's not the same; your injury was part of an imperialistic attack on your entire country, an inexcusable assault on innocent civilians, while what my father did to me was personal and individual."
"I know." She looked down, abashed. "I heard your whole story later. I'm sorry that happened to you, but it doesn't give you the right-"
"I know. Nothing gave me the right. I was childish, and spoiled, and I took what wasn't mine because I was used to getting every material thing I could ask for, and I couldn't understand how to carry on in the world without a penny, without any transportation." Zuko explained. "My uncle had no shame about begging, but I couldn't stand lowering myself that way. It was baseless arrogance; I know now that I'm no better than the lowliest vagrant. Just luckier."
"I guess I met you when you were at a low point." Song commented; it seemed as if she might be relenting.
He snickered. If only stealing an ostrich horse had been his worst sin. "No. I did even worse before I got better."
"What changed you?" She wondered.
"My guilt. I hurt some people I really care about." He was thinking first of Uncle, but also Aang and Katara. At the time, he hadn't cared about them as much as he did now, of course, but he'd known they were good. They had offered him kindness. Putting himself in opposition to them should have made him understand that he was wrong, but he had wanted his father's love so badly that it had overridden his conscience. It had taken getting everything he'd sought for three years, if not his whole life, and feeling only emptiness as his reward, to realize he had changed, that he no longer needed or valued his father's approval. But he didn't think Song wanted to hear about his drama with his abusive father and manipulative sister. He focused on her instead. "And memories of people like you troubled my conscience." He went on. "Regular people I met in the Earth Kingdom who helped me, and who had been hurt by my country's actions. Who had good reason to hate the Fire Nation. I had to unlearn a lot of bullshit I'd been fed since I was little. Like the idea that the people of the Earth Kingdom are dirty, and the Water Tribes are savages, and that patriotism means making every effort to conquer them so they can become more like us, the destined masters of the world. I know, that's terrible, but that's what we were all taught."
Song sighed. "I figured as much. The Fire Nation soldiers who attacked my village looked at us as if we were garbage, and that kind of hatred isn't natural, it has to be learned. I've heard about the changes you've been making in your country; I've read your speeches and the letter you wrote acknowledging and even celebrating the sovereignty of the United Republic. Since your coronation you've been doing the right thing. But, honestly, it's been hard for me to read all the praise heaped on you, when all I can think of is you giving a false name and sneaking away with our ostrich horse."
Zuko cringed at the image. "That's understandable. First impressions are lasting."
Song shook her head and straightened her shoulders, coming to a decision. "If you can get over your indoctrination, then I can get over a little thievery. Especially since you finally repaid what you took."
"You have no idea what a relief that is to hear."
"Probably not. I've never needed forgiveness quite so badly as you seem to. But it makes me feel better too."
Zuko held his hand out for her to shake, and she took it with a smile.
Zuko said goodbye to his uncle, who was returning to his tea shop, and turned toward the steppes he had drifted through almost two years ago. Again, he told his guards to stay behind. He had to do this part of his journey alone.
He couldn't help feeling nervous about this visit. Of all the places he had passed through while he wandered in the wilderness, this was the one that affected him more than any other. His experience here had shown him how wrong his country's actions in the world were, that the propaganda he'd been taught as history was a lie, that the people of the world hated the Fire Nation, and were right to do so. During his first trip here, he had acted uprightly, as an individual; he had done nothing that he could reproach himself for now, but his righteous actions had not been enough to outweigh the well-deserved enmity his family, title, and nationality had earned him. If he could be accepted and forgiven here, of all places, it would mean so much, but he couldn't hold out hope for that. It was only his duty to do the right thing, to offer restitution, and beyond that, true reconciliation was out of his hands.
He approached the village warily, sure he'd be recognized. As he rode through the town on his ostrich horse, people stared, but did not greet him. He bought himself a meal, along with feed for his mount, tipped generously, and ate in silence, as if daring the townspeople to address him. He would have liked to project approachability, but who was he kidding, that was not his personality, even if he didn't have an ugly burn on his face to scare people off. He could feel eyes on his back, and hear whispers following him, but no one came near.
The Fire Lord had spoken to King Keui about some of the abuses he had seen the Earth Kingdom army commit on its own people, so he had hope that the townspeople would not be suffering the same extortion and intimidation that they had on his first visit. No soldiers or officers of any kind appeared, which was a relief. He wanted the appearance of being unarmed and unthreatening, but no firebender is ever truly defenseless, and they knew now what he was.
Leaving the dusty village behind him, he followed the path he remembered to the family's farm. Perhaps word had somehow traveled ahead of him, because the mother, father, and child came out to greet him as if he were expected. They stood stone silent, clothing rustling in the wind, as Zuko dismounted and bowed.
"I'm sorry I haven't come here sooner. I wanted to say this person, and this has been my first chance to travel here. I looked up your son Sensu in the records and saw that he was indeed captured and killed in battle. I'm here to offer my condolences. In my country, for the second anniversary of a death, friends traditionally bring ash bananas and purple berries." He pulled the fruits from his saddlebag. "They're bitter at first taste, but there is sweetness underneath. Today is not exactly the right day, but I hope it still counts. I also wanted to offer you weregild." He swallowed and pulled out a pouch of coins. "It's a-payment, which recognizes that though a life is priceless, a family deserves recognition and recompense when a loved one has been taken in violence, and those responsible should be held accountable."
Gansu, the father, came forward and took the fruit out of his hand. He looked sadly at the pouch of coins Zuko held out. "We can't accept your country's money. But I could use some help with our fence."
A slow grin stole over Zuko's face. The offer of work preserved both of their dignity, just as it had when he had been a needy beggar. "I'd be honored to help." He answered.
The mother, Sela, invited him in for dinner. They made stilted conversation as Zuko asked politely about their farm's production and the season's weather. Lee ate in sullen silence, and left the table before the others finished.
"I read the newspaper," Gansu said stiltedly, looking down at his empty plate in the strained quiet after dinner. He seemed to feel the need to explain why he had welcomed his guest. "I know what you've been trying to do since you took your throne. You're not like the other Fire Lords. You're trying to fix things."
"I am," the young man nodded eagerly.
"If it weren't for that, we would have run you off." Sela stated, her mouth a thin line.
"I'd deserve it. Repairing the damage of the Hundred Years' War has become the mission of my life and my reign, but there are some things that can never be put to rights."
The couple awkwardly offered Zuko their own bed for the night, but he refused, insisting on sleeping in the barn as he had when they had offered him their hospitality before. They seemed to feel ashamed that they did not have better accommodations to offer a monarch, but the young man assured them he didn't mind in the slightest. "Your barn was one of the most comfortable places I slept during those months when I was wandering," he told them honestly.
As he fell asleep in the straw, Zuko thought he heard Lee and Gansu arguing about him. The boy's voice rose in anger as he accused his father of being scared of the Fire Lord. Gansu's response was more soft spoken, so that he wasn't sure why the older man was defending him.
Zuko spent the whole next day working with Gansu mending a fence. It was a long and tedious farm chore, and the sun was hot. He had plenty of strength and stamina, but it took him a while to learn how to use the tools correctly and efficiently. Instead of pretending he knew what he was doing, as he had done last time, he humbly asked for more lessons slowed down the work, but not as much as if the farmer had to go behind him redoing everything, as he probably had when they had worked together on his roof.
"I've never had to do this kind of work before in my life," Zuko admitted sheepishly.
"I can tell." Said the farmer. "I knew back then too."
"It's embarrassing." Zuko muttered. He thought of how quickly Toph or Aang could have dug a post hole. "You know, I have friends who are earthbenders who could do this a lot more quickly."
"Earthbending is a more useful skill than firebending," the man responded wryly.
"Absolutely!" Zuko agreed. "The most useful application of firebending in peacetime is just in cooking. And in steam engines." Then he began telling the farmer about the new mechanical plows and threshing machines that Sokka and the Mechanist had collaborated to invent, under his sponsorship. He offered to bring one of the new tractors here on his next visit. The farmer demured, and Zuko worried he had overstepped or been overgenerous. He shouldn't have presumed he would be welcome to visit another time. He tried again. "What if I send you more information about the machines, and you can see if they would even be useful here at all? They might be designed for an entirely different kind of farming."
Gansu accepted that much, and they carried on with their work.
It took the entire first day before Zuko was able to work quickly enough to make up for the time the older man had had to spend teaching him. They had only made it about a fourth of the way around the family's property when it was time to turn in for the day.
At dinner, Lee was even more petulant than he had been the previous evening, so that his mother scolded him a couple times for rudeness. Zuko ignored the boy's behavior, and focused on complimenting Sela's cooking.
He noticed something strange on a shelf and asked about it: pieces of a broken plate.
The mother answered quietly, "That's the plate Sensu ate his last breakfast from. It got shattered when the soldiers came to conscript him. I didn't have the heart to throw the pieces away."
"It reminds me of a Fire Nation tradition, something we do to remember people we've lost." Zuko told them. "For example, my uncle lost his son, my cousin, Lu Ten, in battle. He broke the teacup that Lu Ten always used, and used molten gold to glue the shards back together. It's supposed to show the process of becoming more resilient. You don't hide the cracks, but highlight them. The mended pottery is stronger, and even prettier." The word did not fully describe the art's impact, the profound way it symbolized the effect of loss on the human heart, and the healing created by the practice itself.
"Must be nice to have so much gold you can waste it fixing broken teacups," Lee muttered snidely.
"Lee," His mother warned him.
"I know how to do it," Zuko went on, persuasively. "My uncle helped me perform the ritual for my mother. One of her flower vases."
"Your mom died?" Lee asked, surprised enough to address Zuko directly for the first time.
"Well, I thought she was dead, but now I think she may not be. It's complicated." Zuko changed the subject. "I've also helped some family members of our lost soldiers mend bowls, kettles, or jars, to remember them. Would you like to fix that plate?"
The parents looked at each other, then back at him, with a nod.
After another morning working on the fences, Zuko rode to town to buy or borrow equipment for the ritual. He also picked up a week's worth of rice and vegetables for the family, to cover the food he'd eaten, and then some.
That evening the Fire Lord showed the bereaved Earth Kingdom family his culture's rite of grief. They pieced together the plate and plotted how the parts should fit. He made a point of pulling gold coins from the pouch he had offered them when he had first arrived. He used his firebending to melt the metal in a crucible he'd borrowed from the blacksmith, mixing it with lacquer he'd bought from the potter. He showed the parents how to pour the mixture carefully over the crack and fit it together, dipping it into water so it would cool quickly. Lee hung back in the corner of the room and watched, though he'd been invited to participate. Zuko could tell he was only refusing from stubbornness; the boy seemed fascinated by the process. The final product was a plate that was all the more beautiful for the way it had endured seemingly irreparable damage.
When they were finished, the parents stayed up late talking about their memories of their son. Zuko listened, honored by their confidences. They inquired tentatively about his own family, and he shared frankly, but shortly, about the abuse and dysfunction, before turning to the happier subject of the new family he had built around himself in the past year or two, including his long-distance uncle and friends, his girlfriend, new half-brother and his mother, and even his assistant. Lee hid in the doorway, all ears, and the adults pretended not to notice his snooping.
That night, Zuko was almost asleep in the barn when he felt a kick in his back. He sat up and saw Lee challenging him with fists raised. "C'mon, fight me!"
Zuko shook his head, standing. He had expected some kind of confrontation, but he was very tired at the moment. "I don't want to fight you, Lee."
Angered by the refusal, Lee attacked him, eyes filled with tears. "You killed my brother!" He hit Zuko with a flurry of punches. Luckily, the boy was untrained, and his emotion kept him from doing any real damage.
"I didn't. My father's army did. I'm sorry for it." Zuko stayed calm, just taking it, accepting the blows with only the most cursory effort at self-defense.
"Fire Nation are all a bunch of ashmakers!" The boy raged on.
"We have done a lot of terrible things." Zuko acknowledged, ignoring the slur.
"You lied to us! You tricked us!" Lee accused. "We wouldn't have let you on our farm if we knew what you are!"
"I'm sorry I misled you."
Lee's punches were slowing down, losing their energy. "I wanted you to stay!" He sobbed. "I thought you could fix everything, but you turned out to be just another ember-eater!"
"I wish I could have been who you needed me to be." Zuko answered solemnly. "I wish I could bring your brother back for you."
The boy broke down crying, head in his hands. Zuko tentatively put his hands on his shoulders, and was surprised when Lee suddenly, roughly buried his face in his chest. Zuko swallowed, honored to be allowed to offer comfort to the grieving child. He recalled his own hot tears when he had heard about the death of his cousin Lu Ten, the way he had broken and burned a wooden puppet they had played with together, just to vent his feelings. Pain came out this way sometimes, when, thwarted by loss, love had nowhere else to go.
They sat in the straw, as the boy kept crying. Before Zuko knew it, Lee had fallen asleep in his arms. He laid the kid down, covered him with his blanket, and made a new nest for himself in the neighboring stall.
Zuko worked for two more days with the father, until they finished the entire circuit of the fenceline. Now Lee went along with them, filling their ears with his prattle. On the morning when it was time to say goodbye, Zuko pulled something special out of his pack and held it out in front of Lee on his open palms.
"When I offered you this knife before, I didn't tell you its whole story." He began. "My uncle, who has been like a father to me, spent three years laying siege to the city of Ba Sing Se. He took this knife from an Earth Kingdom general as a prize, and sent it home to me as a gift." He looked up at the boy's father. "He lost his son too, and abandoned the siege, and became a better man. While I was banished, and searching for the Avatar, I thought of the words on this knife often. 'Never give up without a fight.' And when I met you, Lee, I saw that you embodied that motto. You have a fighting spirit. This blade belongs in the hands of a strong Earth Kingdom warrior."
The boy took the knife out of his hands with a smile.
"I also brought you these." Zuko pulled a new pair of dao swords out of his luggage. Lee's eyes lit up joyfully. He shoved the knife in his belt and accepted the swords reverently. "I contracted a sword trainer to live in the village for the next three years, and teach you how to use these, so you'll be able to defend yourself and your family if any unruly soldiers ever come to town. He'll teach all of the village children, whoever wants to learn."
Lee's father stepped forward, placing his arm around his son's shoulders as he addressed their guest. "Write us, you hear? And come back anytime."
Zuko tipped his hat, and rode his ostrich horse out of town.
Author's Note: Zuko's reparations work is something he will do for the rest of his life, and that he will teach to his daughter and successor Izumi one day, but I won't be able to show much more of it in this story. In this chapter I focused more on the individual characters whose lives he touched during his travels in Book 2. I do not mean to suggest that his actions here suffice to heal the wounds of the Fire Nation's century of war and colonization. Please let me know if my exploration of this issue falls short in any way. Just because the characters spend a year and 30 chapters on a "Victory Tour" and I wrote one single chapter about the reparations tour does NOT mean that the victory is more important than the reparations! It's just the the main focus of the story is the romance between Aang and Katara, and Zuko's continuing redemption arc, while important, comes second to that in the story, though not in moral importance.
Please leave me a review! I treasure your comments! Your encouragement means so much to me!
Next week I'll post the first part of my version of The Search. I made some changes to the graphic novel's story to make it fit my AU and increase its poignance. It's a two-parter.