AN: We come at last to the crux of these chapters' title.
Chapter 8: Fire Break (Part 2)
He spent the after-dinner hours trying to get in a few more of the readings he'd been assigned, and didn't take in a single word of any of them. Once night had fallen and he wouldn't run into Azula, he went right to the practice area off the large courtyard. He remembered his early lessons and practices used to be in this garden, but he needed both the privacy and resources inside.
Cold warmups went smoothly, it was calming to the frantic worry that a test coming up so closely had instilled. Movements came back easily as they had when he'd practiced on the journey back. He started with an incredibly basic move, a simple punched fireball.
A wisp of flame came from his knuckles.
He tried again and got the same result. Panic set in. Maybe he'd been too calm before; he wasn't now. A flurry of moves, strikes, anything to get flame out. All it produced was less actual flame and more smoke and hot air.
Angry frustration pushed through an encroaching fear and brought forth fire again but it was exhausting for the small plumes. Sitting down, he breathed as the fear settled in. What was going on? How was it gone? No, it couldn't be gone, it just… wasn't working. But why wasn't it working? Could bending just go away? This wasn't the same as chi blocking—as he well remembered from when Ty Lee had been learning. The small pile of practice material he'd brought was next to him on the bench, some good they were now. The anger returned, and he might have burned them if he could—if he could he wouldn't be angered by them. He settled for brushing them to the floor. They scattered and rolled around some coming partly undone. The thickest, that reading by Soon, rolled toward his foot unfurling. It faced him with a paragraph, he picked it up to read.
'The nation and bending are like the body, the pulse must be quick, enlivened with purpose, lest it wither and die limping lifelessly along like old men without destination or desire. But youth's vigor and even old men who remain active of mind and goal know the truth of this for the fire is strong in them, and it is on them a nation stands.'
He re-skimmed the paragraphs before and after for further context, none was given. Apparently that was supposed to make sense and provide wisdom on its own. It certainly didn't in his opinion. More meaningless riddles. He didn't repress the urge to throw it across the room, along with its unhelpful advice. There was a twinge of regret when it bounced off the wall and the length twisted as its ends tumbled across the floor, it wasn't his after all and Lu Ten seemed to like the work.
Dragging himself over, he bent to pick it up and rolled the thick scroll back up. He didn't feel different, surely if his bending gone he'd feel it. It made him nervous, but there was no one he could ask or talk to: not Father, none of the firebending masters, not Azula, he wasn't about to open up to any of the servants. He could talk to Lu Ten, he might have some insight. It was really late by this time though, and he'd surely be asleep. Zuko would go early the next morning.
He should have expected sleep would not be kind to him, the state of his nerves being what they were. It certainly was not. He'd woken, startled from dreams three times: standing in a flaming room as the fire surrounded him and didn't obey any attempt to control it, mid-Agni Kai with Zhao his fire gave out and he could not defend himself anymore than he could against his father in the first Agni Kai, and finally he stood before a faceless committee sitting before Father on a dais—he bore an expectantly proud expression as he waited for Zuko to begin—but when he moved into forms no fire came. He'd woken from each heaving deep gasping breaths, in the first two his skin still prickling with the ghost of burning flame. After the third time, he gave up trying to go back to sleep and despite it still being dark he began preparations for bringing his problem to Lu Ten. Of course he tried again too just to make sure it wasn't a fluke last night. Trying to light the candle by his bed only produced some smoky hot air. With a defeated sigh, he sat in the dark and began practicing his explanation. When he began hearing the movement of servants in the hall, he got dressed and headed to the kitchen, it was still well before dawn but he couldn't take anxiously waiting any longer and wanted to avoid more than anything running into anyone on the way.
Passing a courtyard, he saw the sky had yet to even begin graying. He felt kind of bad for waking his cousin up so early. Lu Ten liked tea. Tea made anything better for people who liked tea, right? He'd bring tea. The kitchen was bustling even if everyone still looked drowsy. So much so that it took a moment for someone to notice his presence. Once they did, getting a tea tray with a hot pot of jasmine and two cups was a quick process.
The primary first story wing was still empty of any activity and making it to his cousin's door was surprisingly easy. He knocked on the door and heard a sleepy groan. He knocked again, gaining an appreciation for how awkward it is to do with the elbow.
Another groan and some muttered grumbling over sounds of quick movement.
"If it's important, be more urgent about it, if it isn't—Zuko? It's still dark out, what are you doing here?"
"I needed to talk to you."
"And it couldn't wait til dawn?" Zuko must have looked tired and jittery because after giving him a once over, Lu Ten sighed, "I guess not, come in."
"I brought tea."
"I see that." He sounded incredibly amused about it. As Zuko walked in with the tray, Lu Ten—still in his night clothes—went ahead and drew out a low table from a corner with his foot and kicked out a pair of pillow seats for them. Sitting down, he continued. "So which of us is going to hate this conversation?"
"Huh?" Zuko sat down.
"You brought tea to a conversation that had to be held at 4 in the morning; you didn't get it from Uncle Ozai—or I assume you didn't he doesn't seem the type—so you had to have picked it up from the General. If I was moping and he came to talk he'd bring tea, if he didn't want to have a conversation he'd bring or have it over tea. So do you think I won't like this, or are you nervous?"
"Uhh…" he had to admit, he hadn't made the connection although now that it was mentioned he recalled tea was always involved in Uncle's intrusions on his moods and always accompanied reports of bad news. "It just seemed like it might make up for waking you."
"Alright, well go on and pour so we can put some use to the lack of sleep."
Zuko did so in silence. He was here, and the whole reason had been to ask advice as soon as possible; but now he was here it became hard to admit to. The silence remained as they both began drinking. He noticed Lu Ten's nose scrunch briefly in distaste as he sipped but continued to drink from the cup.
"Is something wrong with it?" Zuko didn't think so, but it mostly tasted like tea to him, and he hadn't actually made it so there was no reason it should be bad.
"No, it's fine. Sorry, I just don't really like jasmine."
"Oh. But—" his eyes scanned the room with it's obvious motif. "I just thought."
"Because they're all over my room? Yeah, Shi teased me about that from age twelve to… well til we were twenty. They're pretty and they smell nice, they're good flowers I guess, but I prefer my tea not to taste like a flower arrangement."
"Why did you keep it all, then?" He didn't ask perhaps the better question: why he had them in the first place, although rooms just came with things sometimes.
"For the same reason you kept that mask. It's a reminder. That's what all this was intended as anyway" he motioned to the room, "a friend of my mother's did wood burning as a hobby, and made these for me when I was little."
"Oh." That made sense.
"Anyway, stop stalling. Why'd you come by?"
"My—uh—my bending's gone."
"Sorry?"
"My bending isn't working. All I get is hot air, and last time I meditated the candles wouldn't connect. And I have a test coming up to decide my teacher."
"Maybe you're just stressed and it's effecting your concentration."
"It's not that!"
"Ok. Calm down, have some more tea." Zuko refilled his cup and took a few sips. "Can you connect to your inner flame?"
"I don't know."
"Well what were you doing while meditating then?"
Breathing with the candles, obviously, it was a breathing and control exercise. Was it also supposed to be internal meditation on the inner flame? He supposed that made sense.
"Can you sense the torch still lit in the hall?"
Zuko tried, he reached out like for a candle, it was generally harder if the flame wasn't in the same room. He could find it, feel it existing there but any attempt to connect, to control it, slipped almost immediately, like trying to grip a wet fish. "Sense yes, but nothing else."
"Well sounds like your bending's still there, it's just blocked or weak right now."
"If it's so easy to tell as sensing a flame, why were you so worried you had lost your bending?"
"There weren't fires down there to sense, I gave up trying to find them after awhile." Lu Ten took a deep breath, coughed, let out the rest of the breath then smiled like he was turning a page on his face. "Anyway, what do you normally fuel your bending with?"
"Anger?" That was more or less what he'd been told to.
"Strong emotion can give a boost but you need something constant to drive you and your fire."
"Determination, I guess?"
"Determination for what?"
Zuko's mind flashed with the image of a dagger's inscription. He thought about the desperate need to get the Avatar, the desire to get home, where he was welcomed, and Father expressed pride in him.
"You don't have to tell me, but think about it."
"What's yours?"
"Duty to serve my country. Whether as her prince, her soldier, and now ensuring you have everything you need to one day be Firelord yourself."
"So when you weren't…"
"I just refocused, my goal remains the best for the Nation. So you think you've lost your determination?"
"No!" He defended automatically. "Maybe. I don't know, it's just I guess I feel a little lost. I managed everything that's driven me for the last three years. Or… ever really. I've got the Avatar, I'm home, Father's proud of me."
"You need to find a new motivation or passion."
"How do I do that?"
"What are you passionate about?"
What was he passionate about? Was there anything? Certainly not tea, was that a passion that could power firebending? He tried to think about what oriented him. If he said honor, Lu Ten and anyone who heard would laugh at him. The memory of standing up in a meeting, a tightness in his chest, but a fire burning there too. He'd wanted so badly to do what was right. But what was right? Certainly not that despite what he'd felt about it at the time. Every time he tried it blew up in his face, or he would somehow miss the mark.
"Just think about it for awhile, you'll find it and it'll come back. By the way, did you tell anyone you were coming here, or pass anyone?"
"No. I only interacted with the kitchen to get the tea tray. Why?"
Just then the door slid quietly open and the woman from yesterday walked in with a tray balanced atop a basket. "Good morning. Oh you have a guest; good morning, Prince Zuko." She set the tray down, it had servings of fruit and a small bowl of rice, and a pot of strong ginger tea.
"Morning. Could you let the main household know where he is before panic sets in."
"Of course. Which is your maid, Prince Zuko?"
"Her name is Aoi."
"I'll let her know." She left quickly leaving the basket on the floor.
"Did I do something wrong?"
"Not really. But the servants get a little panicky when an heir disappears from their bed in the night. Noone wants to lose a royal. I gave Hi-Hi afew heart attacks in my time. Next time you make predawn walks, leave a note."
They sat in silence as Lu Ten enjoyed tea he actually liked with his light but filling breakfast and Zuko tried to figure out how to power his bending. He'd been able to bend, not well, but bend before his exile. What had he wanted then?
The servant woman, who he admitted was far less grumpy today even if her face bore a stern disappointment he could only guess was directed at him, returned bringing his breakfast tray and placing it in front of him on the table. It was filled with heavy foods, and the sheer amount made him feel less hungry. How had he eaten almost two of these the day before?
"I found the girl in tears, hiding in the servants' passage," she shared to the silence. "Poor thing was terrified."
Lu Ten looked confused, and he looked to the woman whose face was blank of expression in response. His cousin's eyebrows rose briefly as though he'd gotten some kind of answer that surprised him. Zuko felt as bad as he assumed the woman intended him to, Lu Ten had previously mentioned why an empty bed in the morning would give servants a reason to be afraid, he'd have to be sure to apologize profusely and ensure nothing would come of it.
The woman left them again.
"So your mom liked jasmine?" Zuko didn't know anything about his aunt. Not even her name, she had died long before he was born and people didn't speak of her often, then people had been too busy not bringing up Lu Ten to not bring up his mother.
"She was named for the vine's blosson, and from what I'm told she would wear them in her hair when they were in season, and the oil was her favored perfume."
Silence fell again as they ate. Zuko watched the man across from him, eating his light meal and drinking tea with both hands holding the small cup. He wondered how well his new conception of his duty was fueling his bending. The younger remembered his cousin as the perfect model prince, remembered him studying and coming out of council meetings in the throne room to play with him. It had been the mold he'd tried to fit and constantly failed to live up to once he'd become crown prince. It was one of the things that had compelled him to insist on getting into that war meeting at 13, well aware even then that his cousin had attended them at an even younger age—not just attended but participated. After having the responsibility and expectation of direct heir for only 3 years, having it stripped from him for the next 3 had been devastating to his sense of self. He could only imagine how much worse it's permanent removal after having it for a lifetime must be. Maybe it was the early hour, or just all the things that had happened in the last few weeks, but he seemed to remember Lu Ten smiling and laughing more, more than the occasional chuckle or sardonic smile. He hadn't seen or heard about Lu Ten doing any firebending since the candle. At least not successfully, he recalled with a shiver.
"Can—can you bend?"
Lu Ten's face fell into an expression that made Zuko feel it was a question he should not have asked. "We both know the answer to that," he said quietly leaning forward.
He wasn't sure he did. The candle was one thig, conjuring flame was another. Was he even asking help of the right person? But he found himself concerned. He opened his mouth to ask in a different way, clarify his intent, but no words came before he was cut off.
Lu Ten glanced at the door and at a spot on his wall. He leaned further and whispered almost a hiss "Zuko, stop asking this question." Straightening back up he nodded slightly. It took Zuko moment to realize that that was his answer, and he had a glimmering of an idea why he was being secretive about it, after months of hiding his bending in the Earth Kingdom he knew what avoidance of bending situations looked like What he couldn't figure out was why he felt he needed to do that back home in the Fire Nation. Azula's contempt for the lack of bending was proof enough of the general sense of the dishonor involved in losing one's firebending—and the public knowing it. He mentally cringed aware of what that said about himself.
He needed to figure that out. A toll-like ring of 'honor' thrummed through his mind. There was one thing that had motivated him to some extent as long as he could remember—though it had taken a back seat to other concerns recently. He'd always wanted to be a good prince, do what was right, do the honorable thing. The only problem was that it seemed so very hard to be a good prince, do what was right, to do the honorable thing. Every time he'd done what he'd thought was right, it went wrong and he ended up dishonoring himself. On the rare occasion he'd done something that brought—or would have brought—him honor, it hadn't felt exactly right. Despite all the suffering it had brought him, he could never quite convince himself to regret any decision he'd made the day of the war meeting and Agni Kai—except sometimes getting uncle to let him in to begin with.
His cousin had said that what happened at the Agni Kai was wrong and while sympathetic about his actions in the war meeting he admitted the tactic he'd found so abhorrent as an accepted one. What did that say about the issues or did it speak more of the person he'd long considered the pinnacle of honor. Zuko needed someone else to talk to. He needed to concentrate on doing the right thing, but not by mistake. And then try bending again. As he'd sat there thinking, he'd somehow cleaned his plate.
"If you want to continue hanging around you can join my mediation."
"I should really get dressed, and let you have that alone." And find Aoi to apologize. He reached out to take his tray away. And was stopped by fingertips on it first, holding it down.
"I'll take it, your Highness." She said gently, and smiled as though it amused her that he'd intended to take it away himself.
"Oh, thank you."
Zuko bundled himself off to his room and Hi-Hi cleared the table and left. Lu Ten went out and sat in the garden to meditate as the morning light started to brighten and warm it. Meditation should be easy with the sun in sight, with its warmth felt on his face. But it wasn't. It wasn't for lack of connection or anything like Zuko's problem—which confused him somewhat he had never heard of such a thing—he was pretty sure it was an issue of distraction. At first he'd struggled to mediate in the damp darkness but had grown accustomed to it and the steady rhythm of water dripping in the cell's corner, and then while he'd still had motivation to it had come easily. Now the inconsistent breezes, the noise of rustling leaves, and the occasional creak of floor boards made keeping his mind blank difficult, frustrating as he used to be able to find that concentration even while explosions and collisions of earth pounded less than a mile away and marching units passed his tent.
The air was still this morning, the wind must be coming from the west where the crest was higher blocking wind from entering the Caldera's interior. And the sun was warming like a hot bath. Turning inward, he let that warmth and the heaviness of a recent meal melt into the heat he could feel within himself. It flared at his attention for a second he felt as alive with energy as he had while practicing the night before.
His peace was broken suddenly by a breeze striking his face, he startled. Closing his eyes and ignoring the sensation of his exposed skin, he tried to regain the focus on his inner flame, but the now rustling bushes kept drawing his attention away. He knew from experience that meditation is as important when you aren't bending as when you are, control remained imperative. But he gave up and lay down in the grass, soaking in the sunlight instead. This way it was easier to think of the sounds as familiar and homey instead of unaccustomed noise. An inattentive deep breath brought a stab of pain and coughs, and he managed to catch breath control from creating a spiral of breathlessness. But when he opened his eyes, he found a suspiciously concerned Hi-Hi looking down on him from the raised walk way.
"That was quiet a nasty cough. Are you coming down with something?"
"It's nothing, I'm fine."
"Mhm." She was doubtful but let it go. Thankfully.
He missed shaving not being a production, but he had to admit Hi-Hi was good. If only he'd known that before what his guards had dubbed the Bloody Incident of 89—also known as his first attempt at figuring out how to shave based entirely on having watched others.
"I didn't know you knew how to handle a razor." He asked.
"Had to learn when my husband's arthritis got too bad to hold the razor steady in the mornings."
"Since when were you married?"
"It's a recent development."
"So that's why you've been leaving before dinner."
"Servants have lives too, Lu Ten."
"I know that."
"Good. Now look forward and stop talking. Unless you want your throat slit." She used both hands to maneuver his head forward facing once more.
"Wouldn't that be quite the way to go after everything."
"Hush." Her hand grabbed his jaw forcing it shut as his head tilted up.
While she finished, she filled in information on her marriage: his name was Katsu, he was a builder, and they'd married a little under three years ago, also she now had two young grandchildren. He was happy that her personal life had grown, that she had a family now; she'd been gruffly motherly to him even if being a half-parent half-servant to a preteen and teenager was very unlikely any woman's ideal of maternal experience, so it only seemed right she got to dote on a family of her own now.
As he got ready for the day, he could see out the window of his room. He'd always liked the view, with its corner of the public garden, the temple rising above it, and further across the palace's bare courtyard a neighborhood of visible rooves. Today, there was a crew of workmen fixing a roof among them. Overall, it was a condemning view, on that roof were more people than he'd interacted with since his arrival, he'd left his wing twice and that had been to another private area. He wouldn't say he was hiding, but it certainly seemed that was what he was doing. He would admit he was not anxious to encounter all those looks and expectations that now applied to public appearances. But he did need to get out there again.
He looked at the temple again, the morning light hitting the red and gold to look like a flaming glow. He should go there, he probably should have earlier, he'd promised; he also had duties to fulfill. Not just him infact, he wondered if anyone had taken those duties up, given his uncle's tendencies he supposed not. A visit to the temple might also be good for Zuko's problem, maybe the sages would have something helpful. And with recently having reviewed Wei and Soon, it fit the lesson plan.
PS/AN: Hope you enjoyed this chapter!
Let me know your thoughts, reactions, complaints etc. on anything (I'm desperate for engagement here guys) the plot, the recent developments, the worldbuilding/lore, the writing, how slow its going, how annoying my update schedule is...
