Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender in any shape or form.
"Thief! Get back here!"
A lithe figure ran by in the night, dark clothes blending in with the shadows. The striking white mask stood out against the dark to reveal a fox design painted on. Icy blue eyes looked beyond the slits as the figure ran and hopped over fences, taking twists and turns to lose her chasers.
She hid in the shadows, waiting for the set of foot to run by before climbing through a window, sneaking into a dim room. The sight of her dark travel pack was left alone in a corner and the young woman took off her mask, setting it back into the bag and started stripping of her black tunic to replace with a loose pale one.
Ameya took the ribbon from her bun, tying it back onto her wrist and hid the jewels in her backpack carefully. The commotion from outside was starting to settle down but a knock from her door caught her attention. She ruffled up her hair and bed, opening the door with a sleepy look on her face.
"Yes?" She greeted the inn owner tiredly.
"Oh—I hope I did not wake you. There had been a thief sneaking around outside and I was checking if everything was alright," the innkeeper notified with a small smile.
"A thief?" Ameya's eyes widen in shock, "I've been sleeping the whole night—I did not notice anything out of the ordinary."
The older innkeeper sighed and smiled apologetically. "Just making sure. I must go check on our other guests now. Sorry for the disturbance."
She waved it off, "Goodnight."
The door closed gently behind her and Ameya smiled to herself.
Tomorrow, she must prepare to leave. She never planned to stay long, stealing from one town to sell at another. She had visited the pirate's harbor weeks prior and was close to getting caught but the coins she received from the statue she stole were already depleted.
The young woman settled back in bed, preparing for sleep for real this time. It had been a month since she departed from Iroh and Zuko. She almost forgot what it was like to travel alone. There were no sarcastic comments from the banished prince, no fascinated remarks about nature from Iroh, and no shared meals.
Ameya hadn't realized how lonely she was until the first night she spent alone, eating her meal quietly by herself in a tavern surrounded by rowdy men and women.
She missed the way Sokka would joke around with his food, or how Katara would scold him. She missed how Aang would sneak food to Momo and Yue did too when she thought no one was looking.
And she imagined Iroh and Zuko joining them at the table. Iroh would no doubt eat wholeheartedly at whatever was in his sight and Zuko would grimace at his behavior and then she would laugh quietly and everything seemed normal.
It was disappointing, knowing that this was the path she chose.
When morning came, all of her previous thoughts from the night before vanished. Ameya steeled herself against her faint heart and left the town. She heard whispers from the villagers about the masked 'White Fox' thief and thought nothing of it.
When she leaves, she will take the thief with her.
Zuko stared at the Blue Spirit mask in his hand.
He had nabbed the mask earlier when he saw it hanging by a stand during the day. The stand was filled with many masks, mostly from fictional lore all over the nation and he reasoned they would not notice if one was gone. He faintly remembers seeing a pale fox mask hanging next to the Blue Spirit but thought nothing of it.
The banished prince pulled his hood up, hiding what little hair he has left and placed the mask over his face, securing it tightly in the back.
And then, he waited.
The full moon of the night provided little light to be seen by others. Zuko waited in the shade, his dark clothes blending in easily. His gold eyes focused on the target, watching the broad man who had insulted him earlier walk by.
This was his chance.
Zuko shifted, moving from his hiding spot in the corner and the man flinched, turning around to look behind him with the dual blades in his hand.
"Who's there?"
In a fluid movement, Zuko grabbed the man's wrist and twisted, disarming him completely in one move and tossing him into a pile of boxes in another. The swords clattered on the ground uselessly and he walked over to pick it up.
These swords are not deserved for someone like him who clearly does not know how to use it or for someone who would use it to threaten others. Zuko is merely doing the town a favor by getting rid of one useless thug's weapon.
He turned and ran away.
"My, this is a lovely ring. Where did you get it?" The pawn shop owner admired the emerald jewel in his hand, staring at the smiling blue eyed girl.
"It was a family heirloom. Unfortunately money is tight right now," Ameya heaved a sigh, "It is unfortunate but I must part with it. I hope someone else appreciates its beauty like we did."
"Oh no doubt someone will," the man grinned, his mustache moving up briefly. "Here is your payment."
They counted the gold coins on the table carefully under her watchful eyes. She smiled at the correct amount, stuffing the money in her coin pouch happily.
"Thank you kindly."
Ameya secured the pouch into her bag and walked away. She looked towards the bright blue sky, following the fluffy clouds with lazy eyes and wondered where she should go next.
Lately she felt disheartened, aimless with her ambitions with no clear idea of what she wishes to do. She wonders if that was because of the siege at the Northern Water Tribe—or was it of Yue's sacrifice? Maybe because she met the Avatar and realized just how young he is and how heavy his burden is.
Her mind wandered to Iroh and Zuko.
How are they faring now? Are they even capable of living like regular civilians? What do they plan on doing now?
She knew they would not be accustomed to living like her—like regular people. She doesn't even know if they have money. Would they be happy if they saw her again—
Wait.
No.
She shouldn't think like that. Maybe she should find Aang instead and see how he's doing with mastering the elements. Would they be happy too—
Stop.
Ameya must really be lonely to have these thoughts. Iroh and Zuko will be fine as long as they're together. Aang has his own journey to set off to. Besides, she wasn't sure if she could face Sokka—of all people, knowing that Yue was gone and they had probably been in love—even if it was brief.
What was it that people say about first love? You could never forget them for the rest of your life?
How pitiful…knowing that your first love has gone without you.
But still, she remembers the love struck expression on Sokka's face and Yue's astonishing explanation when she spoke of them and Ameya decided she cannot see the Water Tribe boy for a while.
Instead, her feet slowly headed south.
He eyed the gold teapot behind the blue mask, hiding behind the shade of a nearby house before slipping inside the store. This was the last stop. He had already stolen a roasted pig from the farm a mile over and had decided to get something for his uncle too. Besides food and necessities, Zuko thought Iroh should at least have something for himself too. How long has it been since he had tea?
The store owner froze at the sight of the Blue Spirit, two broadswords drawn and gleaming with the setting sun. He looked like a demon then, the sun casted dark shadows over his figure and the swords were pointed downwards but threatening.
"Take whatever you want, please! Don't hurt me!" The store owner begged, hiding behind the counter for some type of protection.
He raised one sword to the teapot and other man looked at it, wrapping it quickly in a white cloth and offered it to the spirit. Zuko moved the sword once more, aiming at the round tray and the owner shoved both of the items in his direction.
He sheathed one of his blades, taking the teapot and tray and ran away.
This is what he deserves, what Iroh deserves, Zuko reasoned, they are royalties—not beggars.
Zuko is merely taking back what is his. It is little compared to what it originally should be but little by little he will get everything back. The life of a fugitive is not for him. Trying to hunt for his own food, separating the poisonous plant from edible ones, even sleeping outside is not the life for him.
He was born with power, born as royalty. People should be serving him; people should be giving up what little they have for him.
But instead he is stealing—
No, taking back what rightfully belongs to him.
"You do not have the right to lecture thievery when all your family done was steal."
No.
This is not stealing.
This is his.
He is different from her—from the voice that had been haunting him since their departure. She's the one that lives in the shadow, stealing what is not hers. She was not royalty—she did not deserve it.
Zuko got back to their den before Iroh, setting down the items he retrieved on his outing and hid the Blue Spirit mask. He placed the teapot and cups on the metal tray carefully just like he had seen on display and sat down, exhausted.
Iroh returned shortly and Zuko opened his eyes to peer at him. The elder man studied the new addition to their cave before settling on the gold teapot.
"Looks like you did some serious shopping. But where did you get the money?" Iroh knew this would not be cheap to purchase.
"Do you like your new teapot?" Zuko avoided the question.
"To be honest with you, the best tea tastes delicious whether it comes in a porcelain pot or a tin cup." Iroh walked over to Zuko and sat beside him, "I know we've had some difficult times lately. We've had to struggle just to get by. But it's nothing to be ashamed of. There is a simple honor in poverty."
His fist clenched at the word. Honor. It was always 'honor' that fueled Zuko. His desperation to restore his honor by catching the Avatar was his sole purpose. His father had deemed it so.
And yet, "There's no honor for me without the Avatar."
"Zuko…" Iroh sighed, tired.
How can he make his nephew understand the severity of the situation? The Fire Lord had no intention on accepting his son back—that was why he issued the mission of capturing the Avatar to Zuko. Even Ozai had failed—why would he hope his son could succeed?
"Even if you did capture the Avatar, I'm not so sure it would solve our problems. Not now."
Zuko turned away from him bitterly. "Then there is no hope at all."
Iroh grabbed onto him sternly—Zuko must understand. "No, Zuko! You must never give in to despair. Allow yourself to slip down that road and you surrender to your lowest instincts. In the darkest times, hope is something you give yourself. That is the meaning of inner strength."
His golden eyes stared into Iroh's sad amber ones and turned away. How can he say that yet was defending a thief all those months ago? Why did he not reprimand Ameya when she was under their care? How is this different?
Zuko stood up abruptly, pulling away from his uncle's grasp and stormed out of the cave.
The Avatar was his only hope and he got away.
Azula had given him hope when she sought him out and she lied to him.
How can he have hope when everything he had hoped for was a lie or eluded him? Was he never meant to capture the Avatar? Why would he hope when it was always taken from him?
No, Zuko had learned to stop hoping. He will do what he can; there are still some things he has control over.
The Blue Spirit mask was in his hand once more and he tied the string around the back of his head.
She heard the rumors before she even reached town.
"The Blue Spirit had stolen from Po's shop."
"It stole from me a few days ago—all of my baked goods!"
"Excuse me," the two gossiping women turned to the young girl with blue eyes, eyeing the traveler wearily. "I'm looking for the nearest town. Can you kindly point me to the right direction?"
"If you head down this road, you'll reach Mezhi Village but we highly do not recommend it. Someone in a blue mask has been stealing all around us!" One of the women proclaimed.
"It would be best if you do not stay long young lady, I heard the spirit is even threatening people with swords." The other women advised.
Ameya smiled. "Thank you, I will keep a lookout for it."
She walked away. So someone else has already decided to claim this town? She wonders who it could be. It's not often to find thieves nowadays, she encountered a few themselves but they never stay long enough to create an reputation for themselves. But the one the women had spoken of had a Blue Spirit mask?
Why did that sound familiar?
With a shrug, Ameya continued on.
It would be best to avoid it, Ameya reasoned, the thief is armed and dangerous. She's not the type to engage in a fight and she barely carries a weapon herself. She is just there to restock on supplies and then she'll be on her way.
The Blue Spirit hopped from one roof to another, aiming for the grander house high in the village. He had only been taking small trinkets and food—why stop there? He can do even more, aim even higher. He will get his life back on track but first, he needed the gold.
He snuck into the grand villa easily; the few guards that littered outside were nothing compared to the Fire Nation soldiers stationed at the Pohuai Stronghold. He moved quietly and quickly, sticking close to the shadows and hopped through a window.
The room he entered was eerily quiet. Under the closed door, he saw light on the other side of the room and hid behind a divider, waiting just in case someone decides to come in. A few moment later, the light vanished and footsteps walked by his room.
Taking that as a chance, the Blue Spirit looked around the room, trying to find something easy to grab. His dual broadswords were tucked securely around his belt and he maneuvered the room quietly, gold eyes scanning the tables searchingly.
The moonlight hit the swords and reflected the light to the side, switching his attention to a glass display case. He walked over to it, eyeing the beautifully crafted gold and teal necklace. His hand reached out towards it and before he had the chance to open the glass, another set of hands were placed over the necklace.
He looked up, staring at a White Fox mask in front of him.
The Blue Spirit jumped back, knocking into a painting that fell to the floor. The fox thief spun around, the objective of the necklace forgotten and headed towards the window.
"What was that!?"
He heard someone from beyond the room exclaimed and followed after the thief. The door opened just as the owner saw the White Fox halfway out the window and the Blue Spirit closely behind. Without sparing another second, they both hopped out the window and into the night.
"Thieves! They have infiltrated my home! Search for them!"
The fox thief landed on the thin ledge of the wall surrounding the villa, jumping down nimbly and aimed for the woods. The Blue Spirit followed their movements, copying them but with less grace and chased the other thief.
How did they even manage to sneak up behind him without his notice? How could he let his guard down so easily? If both of them had attempted to steal something, they were out of luck now considering how easily they have been found out.
He eyed the other thief wearily, staring at black hair tied back in a bun with a…blue…ribbon.
She rounded a tree and he lost sight of her, skidding to a stop just as a leg came out to trip him. He jumped over it, turning around to stare at the fox thief who stopped running, leaning against the tree unguarded.
"Unbelievable," her voice was muffled beneath the mask and he stiffened. "I didn't think it was true and yet here you are."
He said nothing, his hands twitching to the swords at his side. He wasn't sure if he was able to use it—
"I know it's you, Zuko."
He drew his weapons and dashed forward. Her eyes widen behind the mask, not expecting him to attack and ducked just as he swung the swords at her. What in the world? What is he doing?!
She tore her mask off, a stupid mistake if it was in front of anyone else, and threw it aside. The Blue Spirit still did not stop, not even when he saw the icy eyes glare at him and aimed a kick at her chest. She caught it, throwing his leg away harshly.
Fine, if that's how he wants to play then Ameya will retaliate.
She must be an idiot for going after him. She must be insane to fight against an armed opponent. She really must be delusional if she thought this masked man was Zuko.
But Ameya knew for a fact he is.
She had never meant to sneak into the noble's house but she saw his figure move and followed without a second thought.
At first she brushed off the rumors, thinking it was another thief but as she dwelled on it more, the more she realized why the mask described in the rumors were familiar. She saw the same mask on the prince's belt months ago—back when he tried to steal her eel hound.
And now he's pretending to not know her—and attack her no less!
Zuko was definitely proficient with his broadswords, swinging the weapon skillfully and aiming for her body. She was a little quicker, dodging was the only thing she can do, and she pushed down the fear of him actively trying to harm her.
She was close enough to block his wrist, avoiding the left blade but yelped when the right blade grazed her arm. He hesitated at the sight of blood and Ameya took that chance to twist his wrist to drop one of the swords. He recovered immediately, forcing his weight on her and used the hilt of the handle to knock her down.
Blue eyes glared at the mask that was inches from her, the remaining blade drawn near her neck.
"I get it, you're a better fighter but to be fair, you were armed to begin with," she hissed out sarcastically and moved one of her arm upwards. The blade near her neck touched her skin and she sent an icy look his way. "Go ahead, I dare you."
He did not move.
Ameya's hand reached up to his mask, careful to not move her neck as she undid the knot behind his head. The Blue Spirit mask fell to reveal the scarred face of the prince, his gold eyes swirling with emotions and his lips set into a thin line.
"Why are you here?"
"Oh so now you finally decide to talk? You couldn't do that while swinging your swords at me?" Her tone was pleasant as always but Zuko felt the cold anger underneath her words.
"Answer me!"
"What about you?! What were you doing in that house—were you trying to steal?" She glared at him angrily, all civility gone, "After everything you put me through—this is how far you've fallen?"
"This—and that are different. I am nothing like you," he returned the glare but he felt the uncertain twist in his stomach.
"You're a hypocrite, My Prince," even with the sword pressed against her neck, she showed no fear. Ameya leaned forward daringly, the blade drawing a thin line of blood, "Explain to me how this is 'different'. You put a mask over your face, thinking no one knows who you are beneath it and take what is not yours. It is almost the same as your family, ravaging villages and taking prisoners but at least we know who the culprit is."
He stared at the blood trailing down her neck and felt his grip loosen. Her words floated around his mind, his head hazy and cloudy.
"I know I am a lowly thief but at least I don't threaten civilians for my own gains. I wouldn't have to resort to this if your family didn't burn down my village in the first place," she rarely spoke of her past and yet with Zuko, she felt the bitter resentment arise. "Does Iroh know you're doing this?"
"Don't bring him into this!" He demanded, grip tightening around the handle once more.
Ameya's head fell back to the ground and she let out a loud laugh filled with animosity and irony.
"Unbelievable!" She repeated again, "You foo—"
"Shut up! I know!"
She paused, glaring at him pointedly as he tossed the sword aside. Zuko put a hand against his forehead and the other supported his form above her, still not moving from his position.
"Everything I have—everything I've worked for—it's gone. Azula lied; my father didn't want me back—my throne, my honor—everything is meaningless and I couldn't control it. The only thing I can do is take what little I can and yet even that is wrong! Is nothing I do ever right?!"
Zuko hated the looks people gave him when he appears in town. He hated the condescending whispers they gossip behind his back at his scar, hated his own face for the longest time when he stared at the angry mark against his left eye and cheek. The Blue Spirit mask had been his comfort—even if it was just a drop against his sea of turmoil; the mask hid who he is and his scars both out and within himself.
"I'm always reminded who I am—what I am no matter where I go. I don't need a mirror to see what I have become—I can see it in their eyes. This scar marked me for life—haunting me of my banishment and mistakes. I can never be free from it."
Ameya thinks he's crying but she isn't sure. There were no droplets falling from the eyes he hid away but she felt his voice shake and his trembling form and suddenly her own anger dissipated. She thought she knew him—thought he was just a sulky brooding prince but that's not true.
There's a lot of hidden sadness in him besides anger. She never experienced a parent's expectations, never had a sibling rivalry, and was never destined for greatness. Ameya was just another orphan who lost her home and hated the Fire Nation.
But as she lay there, staring at his shaking form, she wonders if it was time for Zuko to grow up and face reality. He had been so adamant about going home that he had planned to leave Iroh. He had pinned all his hope on his sister—and ended up running away from her. And now, he was stealing just like her, clinging onto what little control he thought he had left.
Huh, maybe Iroh was right after all. Maybe they are more similar than they thought.
"I was wrong," Zuko lowered his hand, staring at her icy eyes that focused on the moon above him, "We're not that different," her gaze shifted to him, "You can keep putting on that mask to hide yourself in but you can't hide your past. Sometimes you'll just have to let out a good cry then move forward."
This was a decision in his life. Ameya could not decide what is right or wrong for him—she didn't even know what is right for herself. But he was struggling—more so than before and had confided his problems to her whether he knew it or not.
"How?"
Ameya didn't think it was possible for him to sound so broken.
"Well, you gotta find the answers yourself. I'm still trying to figure that out."
They stared into each other's eyes, Ameya's soft and Zuko's were enlightening.
"The scar doesn't define you, Zuko, your actions do." Her hands reached up hesitantly, brushing upon the disfigured skin with delicate fingers. "Believe it or not, this was not the first thing I noticed about you."
His brow furrowed in confusion, ignoring the slight tinge of electricity at the feel of her skin against his.
"Then what was?"
"Well, your armor. You looked wealthy."
Ameya smiled innocently at him and he felt his previous worries disappear, replaced with a deadpanned expression. She was a thief at heart and yet it was strangely comforting knowing that she did not revere him with pity, just another victim to her schemes. His sense of comfort disappeared with that thought.
She laughed lightly at his exasperated look and Zuko merely shook his head. At least she was honest. But still, a small smile emerged on his lips at her laughter. This was the first time he had heard her laugh and it sounded—nice—and airy, soft yet genuine and he could not stop staring at her icy eyes squinted in happiness.
Ameya's laughter subsided and her heart skipped a beat at the sight of the smile on his pale lips—so different from the usual frown he wears and thought it was odd. She was not used to the prince being happy and it stirred something within her chest.
And suddenly they were reminded of their position, reality of the situation forcing them to realize just how close they were. Zuko was still hovering over Ameya and she was still helpless under him.
He jumped off of her immediately, falling back a few steps behind and she sat up, facing away from him. There was a tint of pink on both of their cheeks but thankfully the moonlight was not bright enough to shine on their embarrassment.
Zuko sneaked a glance at her, his gold eyes focusing on the trail of blood from her neck and arm and felt incredibly guilty. He had lashed out in anger and she was on the receiving end of that. But she was right; hiding behind the mask was so easy to pick on the weak and she had just fell victim to it.
Ameya felt his gaze on her and glanced at him. She held her injured arm against her hand, trying to hide from his view but it was futile. Zuko knew what he had done.
"This is nothing," she turned away, reaching down to pick up her fallen mask, "Don't worry about it, Prince."
"Why do you keep calling me that?" He murmured quietly, looking away from the blood.
"Cause you are one?" She tilted her head but winced, scolding herself at being so reckless in the first place. She can heal the small cuts later with water but she still could not reveal her abilities to Zuko.
"Not anymore," he replied bitterly.
Ah, he must still be sore from losing the throne. "Then how about 'Junior'?" She teased, trying to lighten the mood and took a step towards him.
"No," he rejected immediately, shooting her an annoyed look.
"Zuko?"
He visibly froze. Why did the sound of his name spoken by her always cause this reaction from him? Because she always calls him by something else? But it sounded—nice—the way she pronounces the syllables with a curious tone and Zuko finds himself staring at her again.
Ameya faltered under his gaze, not understanding why she felt nervous when his golden eyes turned to her and she looked away.
"I'm just going to stick with 'Prince'," she decided; that felt more natural than anything else.
She thinks now would be a good time to leave. Iroh must be nearby and he would most definitely be worried about Zuko. She bent down to pick up the blue mask, walking over to Zuko and handed it back to him. He stared at it, uncertainty written on his face.
"Next time you put on the mask, don't lose yourself in it. I know it's tempting but it will only be filled with regret if it continues."
Ameya offered the mask to him once more and he took it with slow movements, gripping it tightly while staring at a drop of red against the blue—her blood.
"What are you hiding from?" Zuko's eyes bore in hers; remember her angry words and unrestrained confession he almost skipped over.
Ameya hesitated.
"Everyone else." She turned away, "Take care. Tell Iroh I said 'hi' for me."
The question 'where are you going' floated in his head but he did not voice it. Zuko watched her disappear into the forest and in that moment, he thought she was incredibly lonely. In the end, Zuko had his uncle to return to but what about her? Was there anyone waiting for her?
Zuko didn't know her but he thinks he's beginning to. There was still a lot she was hiding but bit by bit, he saw different sides of her slip out and understood why she keeps haunting him.
Ameya was just like him.
A little lost, a little confused. Struggling day by day carrying the weight of her past by herself. It was a lonesome path but he realized just how strong she was too. Maybe in a way, he admires her. The mocking gaze he thought he hated was not what he originally thought.
That was the mask she put on herself—not the fox. Ameya wasn't mocking anyone; she was hiding her own troubles with smiles to distract people from her lonely eyes.
Later, when Zuko saw Iroh again, he knew what he must do.
The elder man was ecstatic to see him after not returning in the night and was relieved to see him unhurt. Zuko ignored the image of red against the blue spirit mask and faced his uncle.
"I need to find my own way."
Iroh had always been there for him. Iroh had always coddled him. Iroh—his uncle had always protected him and Zuko can't continue like this. He cannot keep relying on him—cannot always expect him to be there.
He grabbed his bag and turned away.
Ameya had always been alone—she said she preferred to travel alone. But why? Is it because she had no one else to rely on? Is that how she was able to survive this long? Would he learn something if he followed her steps?
"Wait!"
He turned around to see Iroh holding the reins of the ostrich horse towards him. Iroh, always looking out for Zuko.
He took the reins and mounted the ostrich horse, nodding his head in appreciation and left. Zuko did not miss the look of sorrow on his uncle's face and apologized silently.
This was something he must figure out himself.
Author's Note:
And slowly, their relationship is shifting.
Ohboy this turned out longer than I thought. I'm actually bad at writing Zuko and have to reread it plenty of times and rewatch episodes to see if it fits his character. Hopefully I got it right! And Ameya is slowly changing herself…both of them have their own soul searching to do.
I've been excited to write this chapter since Ameya's imprisonment back in chapter 4/5. It felt so good to have her yell at him—karma can be so cruel. Many things will be happening soon!
Reviews are always welcomed and loved! I can't believe this story has reached over 5000 views—I'm so happy there seems to be a constant number of viewers each chapter although I think that's just me refreshing it a majority of the time—jkjk
Oh! I drew a small comic as a 'prologue' type for this story! Check it out on my Tumblr at toomuchpineapples for the cheesiness.