AN: So this was an idea that came to me when I read a completely unrelated fic summary and since this didn't already exist I figured I'd write it. I don't normally do AU's but this prospect held too many juicey possible changes to plot and character arcs to resist. More notes at the end.
I don't own ATLA, obviously.
Chapter 1: Remnants of Ba Sing Se
This was taking far too long, the place was massive but a giant hairy beast shouldn't be this hard to find. He'd passed through floors of windowed cell doors skipping them over as too small and ignoring the small sounds of the people within.
On this deeper level, the doors were whole, and this brought him hope for large cells, frustratingly most had been empty and unlocked. He tried the next, down a short hallway from the main corridor. It was locked. He lifted the lock and slid the door open feeling hopeful for a brief second before it was clear even in the dim green light of the hall that the room was small.
The last notes of an interrupted, hummed tune echoed off the corners. And Zuko wasn't sure why the occupation of this cell held him frozen in the doorway, when he'd passed so many already. The prisoner shielded his eyes from the unfamiliar light, dull orange irises blinked at the intruder from behind a twisted hand.
The silence was broken by sudden, hysterical laughter tearing from the prisoner's chapped lips. "The Dark Water Spirit," the continued but combined with coughs as his breath began to fail. "The Dark Water Spirit has come to rescue me." A single laugh was strangled by a cough. "I'm the son of the Dragon Emperor, but I've lost my breath." Zuko took a step back, the man leaned forward toward him pleadingly. "Have you come to change me back too?" The laughter stopped as the man looked at him, waiting expectantly.
That was when the man's words—the references to the play—and the color of his eyes clicked for the masked boy. The prisoner was Fire Nation. And if the state of his hands were what he suspected, he was, or had been, a firebender. He felt an anger at the city that he hadn't felt since their arrival flare up. The Avatar's bison forgotten, curiosity caused him to bring a flame to his hand to light the dark cell. The yellow-orange lit up the small, damp cell bringing color to the man's rice-paper skin. Zuko saw why the man had yet to try getting up and leaving the room; his feet were encased in the rocky material the Dai Li used as gloves and cemented to the floor. The man gazed at the flame with the hungry expression of a starved man presented food. And in the flickering light his eyes glowed amber as though brought back to life.
Breaking his gaze away and up toward the masked face, he asked in a voice trying not to be hopeful, "Does this mean Ba Sing Se has fallen? How much longer did the Siege last?"
The implications of his questions froze Zuko's blood. It couldn't be that he'd been here that long. His silence seemed to give the man time to think about what was in front of him.
"No. You'd be in uniform. So who is the spirit?"
Zuko didn't want to look at the man's hands, the thought of the sight pushed burning bile into the back of his throat; so he brought his eyes to the face, looking at him now with a harder expectation. The eyes burned in the firelight, the hollowness of the eye sockets spoke to a prolonged lack of proper food. The lower half of his face was largely covered by a dark, tangled beard and moustache.
"Who are you?" he demanded. Frustration rippled the prisoner's forehead in a familiar pattern.
The hollowed-out face brought a facade of age to the eyes that pricked at something from his childhood. Azulon's sunken eyes. Uncle's now-familiar annoyed creases, the Siege, eyes of golden amber. And was there something he knew in the voice?
"Speak!"
The shout jarred the conclusion he had not quite come to from his lips, "Lu Ten?" The shock extinguished the flame in his hand as it falls to his side.
The man didn't respond, only blinked, surprised at the name.
Zuko's heart rate sky-rocketed. No, no, it wasn't possible. He was dead. His fists clenched at his side. "Are- Are you Prince Lu Ten, son of Iroh?" he asked.
The man nodded, slowly.
Zuko gasped, the air sticking in his tight throat; behind the mask he blinked back a stinging in his eyes. "Prove it!" the words gritted out.
"How?" The man asked, tone tired and dejected. "What can I say that would prove it?"
He didn't know, he hadn't thought that far ahead when he asked. He stayed silent.
"Tell me, is my father well?"
"You've been thought dead for six years," it wasn't really an answer, but he didn't know how to explain the last six years or their current circumstances.
His eyes closed and head bowed to one side as though to hide the grief, it was another familiar gesture.
The Blue Spirit drew the dual dao from the sheath across his back and entered the cell. The prisoner—Lu Ten—shifted back, staring with some hesitancy at the armed approach. The spirit-masked figure knelt and used the blades to pry at the stone binding his feet. The dirt—almost stone—came off in clumps, once enough was gone the man's feet slid out and he brought them under him. Supported by the wall, he rose shakily until he stood. He tried to walk out the door, but after only a few steps his knees gave out under him. Before he could collapse fully, the masked spirit caught him, put a thin arm over his shoulders, and stood.
He was shaking with anger as he supported his cousin. His cousin, who he remembered as his idol growing up, who had been a powerful firebender capable of one day rivaling his own father, who been the model prince and strong warrior, the pride of the Royal Family and the Nation. It pained him to see that same person barely able to stand, and unable to bend or fight. He hated this place, he hated the Dai Li, the whole city, the Earth Kingdom for what they'd done.
The pair made it to the doorway, thankfully it was wide. But they stopped upon the sight that met them. Uncle Iroh stood against the opposite wall of the hall, eyes wide and tears running steadily down into his beard. He must have been there for some time in impressive silence to go unnoticed.
In a rush forward Iroh embraced Lu Ten tightly. The Blue Spirit slipped away to the side feeling like an intruder upon the reunion.
"Dad?" Lu Ten asked in near disbelief that this was real, but there was no denying the arms around him.
"My dear boy." A few inches appeared between them so Iroh could take his son's face in his hand, looking at it with the same expression that the son had earlier looked at the flame. "I thought I had lost you. Lost you to my own foolishness. When I saw the rocks fall…" he couldn't finish the sentence.
Zuko had never heard how Lu Ten was supposed to have died. The letter hadn't given details, and he'd never wanted to ask Uncle directly. But he'd never imagined that he'd witnessed it.
"As the stone was coming down toward me, the earth swallowed me," he looked momentarily at the dim stone walls all around them, "and it has yet to spit me out."
"You're safe now. And we'll be getting you out."
The embrace recommenced. After a moment, Lu Ten broke off, a hand remaining on his father's shoulder for stability as he faced their still-masked companion. With a formal, if unsteady, bow he asked, "Would you mind telling me to whom I owe my freedom? While it would be a great honor to be rescued by a spirit, the Dark Water Spirit isn't known for his altruism, nor is he a firebender."
"Appa!" A young high-pitched voice bounced like its owner off the walls of the underground prison. The source was close.
Suddenly reminded of his reason for being down here, Zuko's head whipped around to look at the end of the hall. He took a step forward. He'd been only one cell away.
"Zuko, no." Uncle's voice called, volume low but tone firm.
"Zuko?" Lu Ten repeated, ignored, looking disbelieving at the masked figure who was now as tall as him.
"But I-"
"But what? What are you going to do now? You're too late. What is your plan, exactly? To run in like a fool, to face five warriors, three of whom have defeated you individually before?"
Beneath the mask, his face burned red in shame at his inadequacy. "I'd think of something," he said with the little false bravado he could manage.
"Like you thought of something at the North Pole? You don't think these things through, and its almost gotten you killed!"
Lu Ten watched the interaction with an expression of growing concern, bordering on horror.
"I have to-"
"No. You've been told that you must. You only have to do what you feel is right, what you want! So what do you want?"
The bison had been held so close. If he had just opened that one. But then he wouldn't have found Lu Ten. And now his plan was shot, he couldn't use the animal as bait, the Avatar and group had been reunited. Uncle was right, rushing in now would end poorly. And knowing his luck the Dai Li would be here any moment. But he'd had a plan, and like so many before it, it had fallen apart in his hand, He just wanted to go home. Why did the universe seem so determined to prevent it? Why was he such a failure? If he went after the Avatar now he'd leave Uncle and Lu Ten to get out on their own, defenseless against any guards. If he let the Avatar go, he'd be letting his chance—to go home to regain his place in the world—slip through his fingers again, like in the southern waters, on Kyoshi, in Roku's Temple, on the river bank, during the storm, at the stronghold, at the North Pole. So many failures. In a way, in the end, this was a choice between family and family. But it was a choice he'd made before and he would not abandon family when he had chosen his crew before.
A frustrated scream, as he painfully slammed a fist into the wall, was drowned out by the happy grumble of the freed bison. He took a few deep breaths and pushed up his mask, facing his uncle.
"Fine. Let's go. The Dai Li will be coming soon." He moved to take back his role as crutch.
Lu Ten was looking at him, his gaze shifting to one side in the way that most did. "Zuko. What-?"
He turned his head to hide the left side. "Later," he mumbled, taking the position so that his good side faced his cousin. They began moving down the hall.
"You made the right choice, nephew." Iroh said gently with a proud smile.
"At least I know they'll still be in the City."
Uncle shook his head slightly, sighing.
They reached the main corridor, and back the way they'd come. Behind them there was the distant form of something large and white and the echo of happy muttering. Zuko ground his teeth.
"Grandfather still lives then?"
Zuko and Iroh glanced at each other. "No."
"Then how-" he glanced at the conflicted expressions on either side of him and cut off his own question. "Later, I get it."
PS AN:
Some of the aspects to LuTen's imprisonment were inspired by LaserLance720's "A Life Returned" (the revived version). It's an good read, if left unfinished at something of a cliffhanger.
I don't know how long I'll follow this line of plot (I haven't been active much through college and I don't really have that much more time now in grad school, though I have an upcoming project for a different fandom so I'll be around), but I will put in at least another chapter after this, and the rest will come as it occurs to me.
Thanks for reading.
Comments are always welcome, let me know what you thought and if you want to see more of this.