Water
Freedom Fighter: Part 1
For a long time, none of them spoke. Katara was half convinced that Aang was asleep, wedged tight between her and Sokka and almost eerily still—but Sokka was tense. She could feel it in the arm he kept wrapped around them both.
Appa flew them soundlessly over the bay, over Zuko's steel ship anchored by the docks, over the rows and rows of larger ships blocking the mouth of the bay. Katara stared down at them. For a long time, Zuko's ship had seemed enormous to her, but here, surrounded by the other warships, it looked like a child's toy. She shivered at the sheer size of the fleet. From here, she could see the flecks of burgundy on the decks, unhurried as they went about their work. A few tiny figures tilted their heads back to watch the beast fly overhead, but the catapults lay still, no plumes of fire lifted after them.
"This doesn't make sense," Katara whispered, her voice scarcely loud enough to carry over the rush of wind as Appa lifted them higher. "They attacked us before. Why not this time?"
She caught a glimpse of her brother's furrowed brow before he turned his head sharply away.
"Sokka." She poked him hard on the shoulder. "What's with the face?"
"Ouch, Katara." He shot her a scowl. "What's with the poking?"
"You're acting weird. Why?"
He scowled harder and pulled away, making a great show of rubbing at the spot where Katara had poked him. "I am not."
"Sokka, you're acting weird." Aang's voice was small and tired, but he craned his neck to look up at Sokka. "Normally you talk a lot more."
Sokka gave an indignant splutter.
"Aang! You're okay? I thought you were sleeping," Katara said.
Aang nodded and pushed himself a little straighter. "Did—did Zuko help us back there?"
"No." Sokka shook his head decisively. "No way. That's not what happened."
Katara peered over Aang's head. "What did happen?" There were sooty chain-like marks crisscrossing Sokka's tunic, but he appeared unharmed otherwise.
Sokka shrugged. "You two went into the sanctuary and those Fire Nation jerks chained me up." He shot a reproachful look at Katara. "I bet you didn't even think about that. Leaving me all alone out there."
"Sokka—"
He wasn't finished. "All by myself. With a bunch of bloodthirsty firebenders. I could have been killed if I wasn't such a brilliant strategist."
The apology died on Katara's lips and she reached around Aang to give Sokka a shove. "It's not our fault that you didn't come with us, Mister Brilliant Strategist. There was plenty of room in the sanctuary."
"Hey!" Sokka pulled away from their little huddle. "Rude, Katara."
"What was your brilliant strategy?" Aang asked.
Sokka scratched behind his ear. "I, uh—I yelled at Zuko. A lot."
"Genius." Katara rolled her eyes. "I'm sure he won't be upset about that at all when we run into him again."
"Speak for yourself, Miss Punchy-Fists. At least I got some useful information out of him. What did your weird spirit friends tell you?"
Aang finally straightened, and Katara pulled back, grateful. Her arm was beginning to fall asleep under his weight.
"Roku told me that we have to restore balance to the world."
One of Sokka's eyes twitched. "That's it?"
"And that we have to do it before some big comet comes and gives the firebenders a bunch of extra power." Aang yawned and rubbed his eyes.
"Fantastic. We got a deadline from Roku, and—" Sokka turned toward Katara. "What did your crazy snake lady say?"
"Um," Katara fidgeted and felt for her necklace. Right. It wasn't there anymore. She took a deep breath. "She said a lot of things."
"Her name was Avatar Haasi," Aang volunteered, then paused, looking a little surprised. "Huh. I know they didn't teach me about her at the Air Temple."
Katara could feel Sokka's eyes boring into her, and she refused to turn his way.
"And?"
She glanced at Aang. She didn't want to say it. Oh, by the way, Aang, we guessed right. You died in the iceberg, and the only reason you're still alive is because I found you. That would be far too harsh. Not that she could think of a gentle way to tell him that he would have never woken up again if Sokka had gone fishing alone. And of course there was still the matter of their powers, and the Spirit World, and—Katara wasn't sure she had the words for any of it. She wasn't even convinced that she understood any of it.
"Do you think that thing Avatar Haasi was riding is related to the Unagi?" Aang asked through another yawn, crawling toward the front of the saddle.
Katara shrugged. "I'm not sure. Maybe."
Sokka grabbed Aang by the hem of his tunic before he could crawl out onto Appa's neck. "Uh-uh. Where do you think you're going?"
"Somebody has to tell Appa where we're going."
Sokka shook his head. "Not you, Yawny. The last thing we need is to have someone fall off because they're sleeping. I'm steering this time." He yanked Aang back a little harder and crawled up past him. "Besides, I figured out our strategy. I know what we have to do next."
Katara felt a little of the tension leave her shoulders. Good. The future was much less confusing than her meeting with Haasi. "And what's that?"
"We stop giving the Fire Nation a target to follow. They've been tracking Appa. We're going to start travelling so they can't see us."
Katara frowned. "What, at night? You? Staying up at night?"
"What? No. We're going to stop flying," Sokka said firmly.
Zuko knew the rules of the Agni Kai all too well. Normally, he was less than thrilled about that. Remembering the rules of the Agni Kai meant thinking about how he had learned them in the first place, and he avoided that whenever he could. But pleasant or not, he knew the rules. And in some ways, that worked to his advantage.
An Agni Kai had to be fought at sunset. It was after dark now. That meant that Zhao couldn't force the duel early. He would have to wait until tomorrow. Plenty of time for the Avatar to get away from Zhao—and from Zuko, but he would worry about that later. For now, he had a day to wait and prepare. Between the challenge and the battle, all aggressions between the parties involved were to cease, and combatants were to be treated with dignity and respect.
Zuko glared at the ring of soldiers standing around him. Apparently Zhao had missed that last bit. This wasn't cessation of aggression. This wasn't the respect owed to an opponent. An Agni Kai was a matter of honor, and by treating him as a prisoner, Zhao was violating that code of honor.
He could complain about it. He would be justified in pointing out the dishonorable treatment. But for once, Zuko decided that restraint was the better option. He had challenged Zhao to let the Avatar escape. Temporarily. Once the fight was over, Zuko would capture her personally, but in the meantime, he was using a sacred tradition for his own purposes. If he challenged Zhao's honor, there was nothing to keep the commander from turning the same accusations around and taking Zuko prisoner for real.
Being watched was uncomfortable enough. He didn't need a cell or chains to add to the humiliation.
He wasn't certain how long he had been waiting. Too long. The sky was fading from indigo to black by the time he saw Zhao coming across the deck, Uncle trotting to keep up with the taller man's stride.
Zuko's stomach tied itself into knots. It was good to see Uncle. It was nice to know that there would be at least one honorable witness to this Agni Kai. But all of Uncle's advice, all his warnings and pleas for caution echoed in his ears. Uncle wouldn't be pleased about the Agni Kai. He may not—probably wouldn't—care about the Avatar's escape, but Uncle was enough of an old fusspot to get worked up about a fight.
Zuko wiped the sweat off his palms. He didn't care. He was completely fine with the idea of fighting Zhao. This wasn't his first Agni Kai. It probably wouldn't be his last.
Unless it was.
Zuko's stomach lurched.
"As promised, General," Zhao drawled. "Prince Zuko is perfectly safe."
Uncle's brows were drawn, his whole expression dark. "Have your men stand down, Commander."
Zhao smirked. "You must understand the circumstances, General—"
Uncle's expression only darkened. Though he only came to the level of Zhao's chin, he seemed to grow several inches. "I understand the sacred laws of the Agni Kai, Commander. Your men will stand down."
Zhao's smirk faded, and a flood of loathing washed in to replace it. "Very well, General." There was a petulant edge to his voice, but he motioned the soldiers away. "Sunset tomorrow will come soon enough."
Uncle stood in silence, watching from the corner of his eyes, hands clasped over his stomach until the men, Zhao included, filed away. When the men were finally out of earshot, Uncle turned a critical eye back on Zuko. "What happened?"
Zuko fidgeted under the old man's scrutiny. "I'm fine, Uncle." He turned his face away.
"You're bleeding."
Zuko swiped a hand under his nose, dislodging a few flakes of dried blood. He scowled at them. "I was bleeding. I'm not anymore."
"What happened?" Uncle asked again, more insistent this time.
The Avatar punched me in the nose. Zuko frowned stubbornly down at his hands. As if he could admit that. "I must have hit my face on something."
A pause. "Was it Zhao?"
"No!" Zuko snapped. "Just—drop it, would you? Zhao didn't do anything aside from being an ass." His hands clamped on the edge of the steel bench. Yet, he reminded himself. Zhao hadn't done anything yet.
Uncle shifted. "Why, then?" There was an edge of concern to the old man's voice. His General Iroh persona seemed to be eroding away. "Why challenge Zhao, Prince Zuko? He is a master, but worse, he is arrogant and cruel."
Zuko set his jaw. He knew that. He wasn't stupid. But he was hoping—counting on Zhao's arrogance overruling everything else. If Zhao remained blind to Zuko's real motivations, if Zuko could win this fight—and he would, he didn't have a choice—he could resume his search as though nothing had happened. That was all he wanted. To go back to his ship with his chance of returning home still intact.
"I had to challenge him," Zuko admitted. "He was about to capture the Avatar."
When they finally reached Earth Kingdom soil again, they camped in a forest just a few miles inland. Or they landed in a forest a few miles inland. Katara wasn't convinced that it really counted as camping when they didn't bother to set up their tents. By the time they landed, it was well past midnight, and with sunrise so close, it didn't seem worthwhile to pitch a tent for a few hours of sleep.
Katara curled up in her sleeping bag on the ground. Aang had slept through most of their flight, but she and Sokka had stayed awake the whole time to keep watch and make sure that Appa stayed on course. She didn't really mind. They were safe in Appa's saddle, and with Aang sleeping off his fatigue from the encounter with Avatar Roku, it was quiet enough that she could think. And Sokka had to be just as tired as she was by now. If she knew anything about Sokka, it was that he would sleep a whole day away any time he had to stay up too late. After such a long flight in the dark, she'd be able to sleep until noon and still be up long before Sokka.
She was wrong about that.
Sokka rose uncharacteristically early, leaping up from his sleeping bag, still full of ideas about how they could evade the Fire Nation by not using their best means of transportation. He went on and on about strategy and how it made perfect sense that the Fire Nation had been tracking them based on sightings of Appa. He kind of had a point with that one—Appa was pretty noticeable. But he was also fast, and as far as Katara was concerned, if they had to choose between outrunning the Fire Nation and staying out of sight, speed was the better option.
Sokka tossed an arm around her shoulders and made a long speech about battle tactics and warriors' instincts, and somehow convinced Aang. At that, Sokka became insufferably smug.
Katara kind of wanted to punch him in the nose.
Walking was just as annoying as it sounded. Katara was still tired, but Sokka made them start immediately after breakfast. They'd landed in a marshy, wet area of the forest where the ground was spongy and sticky all at once, which made walking even more tiring. Worse, Aang insisted that they carry all their supplies to give Appa a break. That was nonsense, as far as Katara was concerned. They weren't taking Appa's saddle off, and that weighed far more than all their supplies combined. The bison hardly noticed when they unloaded, but Katara noticed the big, unwieldy bundle now strapped to her back.
It was too early in the day, she hadn't gotten enough sleep, the air near the forest floor was stale and damp, the spongy ground was hard to walk on, and the cooking pots strapped to her pack kept rattling. Even worse, Sokka still radiated with smugness, and Aang was entirely too well-rested and full of chatter. Katara was not in the mood to talk. And she still couldn't get her meeting with Haasi out of her head.
It felt weird. Now that she knew a part of her powers—a part of herself was missing, she kept trying to feel where that part should have been, if there were any scars left behind by its absence. But she couldn't find anything.
She didn't know how she felt about it. She didn't regret meeting Aang. He was a sweet kid and a good friend, but it was weird to know that she was locked out of the Spirit World because she had found him. And if she had known that reviving Aang would mean losing something of herself, she wasn't sure that she would have—
No, she wasn't going to think like that. She couldn't. It wasn't like she could go back and change anything if she wanted to, and she wouldn't change this if she had the choice.
Though Aang's chipper attitude and insistence on telling her about all the best animals in the Earth Kingdom wasn't exactly helping her mood at the moment.
And then after a few hours, they walked straight into a Fire Nation camp.
Katara almost wanted to laugh. Of course. Of course they would make a narrow escape from Fire Nation territory only to walk straight into another trap. This was almost becoming habit.
But before any of the soldiers could come near them, a boy swung out of the treetops in a whirlwind and cut through the Fire Nation soldiers like they were nothing. A few other raggedly clothed kids emerged after him, whooping, and joined the fight, but Katara barely noticed them. The first boy seemed to be in charge, and he dominated the battle. He was tall, dark haired, dark eyed, and his every movement was quick and agile. Katara was dazzled.
She froze a firebender's feet to the ground and knocked a second onto his rear, and the boy flashed a smile in her direction. Her stomach erupted with fluttering as he snagged a sturdy branch with one sword and swung himself around, planting a solid kick in the center of a firebender's chest. She ran to the middle of the clearing and shot a disk of water in time to knock a blade headed for the boy's back out of the way. He flashed another wild grin at her and returned the favor by whipping one of his swords through the air to pin yet another firebender to the ground.
The fight ended as quickly as it had begun, and Katara stared, wide-eyed as the boy knocked the last few immobilized firebenders unconscious. Her jaw might have been hanging open a bit, she couldn't really tell. He called instructions to the other kids, something about securing the area and checking for supplies, but Katara didn't really hear what he was saying. She was too absorbed in the sound of his voice and the angle of his jaw and his soft, dark hair, and—well, everything about him to care. And then the boy turned and sauntered toward Katara.
"Hey." He came within a few strides and extended his hand. "Nice to meet you. It's not every day we meet strangers out here who aren't—" He jerked a thumb back toward the crimson tents and gave her a crooked smile.
Katara's heart fluttered and she started to reach out to accept his hand.
"Hi, I'm Aang!" Aang bounded up and cut in front of Katara to shake the boy's hand. "That was so cool! You just—swung in and whoosh!"
The boy looked surprised for a second, then eased back into a smile. "Your moves were pretty good too. What was that, airbending?"
"Yeah, I—"
Sokka came forward and cuffed Aang on the back of the head. "Staying inconspicuous, Aang. That was the plan, remember?"
"Ow!" Aang rubbed the back of his head and pouted. "But he's on our side, Sokka. You saw the way he fought off those firebenders."
Sokka narrowed his eyes at the stranger. "Yeah, I saw all right."
Before the boy could respond, one of the other kids called for him. "Jet! Lookit what we got here!"
He looked back and gave a nod of approval. "Careful with the blasting jelly, Duke. That's a good find." Turning back, he offered his hand to Sokka this time. "Sokka, is it? Me and my Freedom Fighters could always use another capable fighter. I'm sure with a little training—"
Sokka's scowl grew deeper and deeper. "Nope." He knocked the stranger's hand aside and marched past, toward Appa. "Thanks for the offer, but we're gonna be going now."
Not this again. Not more walking. "But Sokka," Katara complained. "We've been walking all day. Haven't we gone far enough?"
"Nope," Sokka shouted back over his shoulder.
Katara folded her arms and fixed her face into a scowl.
"Huh. Nice friend you've got there," the boy said to Katara, offering his hand to her instead. "I'm Jet."
She felt a rush of blood rise to her face. "Katara." She accepted his hand. "And he's not my friend, that's my brother, Skaang." Her face grew hotter. "No, I mean—these are my brothers, Sokka and Aang. Wait, no. Sokka is my brother and Aang's our friend." Ugh. She wished that she knew enough earthbending to open up a hole in the ground and disappear.
Jet smiled. "Katara. I like it."
Her insides went fluttery, and she smiled back.
"So." Jet plucked a blade of grass out of the ground and let it dangle from his lips. "You're all in a hurry to get back on the road, huh?"
She groaned. "No. Sokka's just in a bad mood because his plan to stay out of the Fire Nation's way by walking didn't work the way he thought it would." She let her voice rise toward the end and stared after Sokka. He ignored her. Jerk. She knew he'd heard.
There was that crooked smile again. Jet twirled the stiff stalk of grass with his tongue and motioned for her to follow him across the clearing to where Sokka was struggling to untangle Appa's reins from a thorny bush. "So, Sokka. Could I interest you and your friends in spending the night with my Freedom Fighters? After your help with the Fire Nation, it's the least we can do. And we don't get much word from the outside world. Any news you could share would be an enormous help to our cause."
Sokka glowered over his shoulder, still whacking at the bush with the butt of his boomerang. "Sorry, but we're on kind of a tight schedule." A branch snapped back at him, and he yelped and sucked the blood off his fingertip.
"Oh, come on, Sokka. Katara's right, we've been walking for ages," Aang said.
"Not you too! Guys, we need to keep moving."
"You're more than welcome to stay," Jet offered. "We have space. And after this find, we'll have food for ages. You might as well share the spoils." One of the Freedom Fighters called to him, and with a good-natured groan, he excused himself. "I said clean up. Supplies first, the rest later, got it?"
Katara smiled after his retreating back. Spirits, he was so—she couldn't even find the words. Charming, maybe. Handsome, definitely. She wondered what it would feel like to thread her hands through his hair and lean in—
Sokka cleared his throat as loud as he could.
Aang gave his best wide-eyed, pleading smile. "Just one night, Sokka. They seem really nice."
Katara dragged her eyes away from Jet's back and nodded. "And if you make us keep walking, I'm going to start splashing you every twenty steps."
"Yeah!" Aang beamed. "Me too."
Sokka looked back and forth between them, over and over again. Finally, he groaned, bleeding finger still stuck in his mouth.
Aang leapt into the air and did a little spin. "Yes!"
Katara grinned and snuck another glance in Jet's direction. Maybe walking wasn't so bad after all.
Zuko wasn't expecting to sleep much. Because of the circumstances of Zuko's challenge, he couldn't return to his own ship. Even Uncle hadn't really been able to argue that point. It hadn't seemed so bad at first. Zhao's ship was enormous compared with Zuko's, well-outfitted, and in excellent condition. At worst, Zuko had expected a bunk in a low-ranking officer's cabin. It would have been a scarcely noticeable step down from his own quarters.
Instead, Zhao had announced that, to his great embarrassment, he had no cabins to spare on his ship. To Zhao's terrible shame, the crew was so large that the only space he had left for Zuko and Uncle was the brig or a storage closet.
Zuko had seen the glint of satisfaction in Zhao's eyes, and the venom in Uncle's. But Zuko was tired—tired enough that he wasn't even that interested in watching Uncle methodically reduce Zhao to a squirming mass of barely-repressed rage. He had chosen the storage closet.
Now he was beginning to wish that he hadn't. Zhao was apparently unable—or at least unwilling—to spare them any cots to sleep on, but Uncle curled up on a steel bench with a stack of freshly-washed towels under his head and promptly began both snoring and drooling.
Zuko pulled a face and sprawled on his back on his own bench. The snoring wasn't unfamiliar, but it wasn't usually so close, so confined. It almost echoed despite the shelves and shelves of towels and spare trousers and winter cloaks. He let out a slow breath, staring at the immaculate seams in the ceiling. His nose still ached, and the flesh around his right eye felt puffier than usual. And Uncle's snoring just wouldn't stop.
He was right. He didn't get much sleep.
Uncle woke Zuko early in the morning for meditation on the deck, then a quick breakfast in the hall outside the galley. They kept out of the way of Zhao's crew, and the crew avoided them too. Zuko couldn't decide whether he was grateful for that or not. Sneaking around a commander's ship like a stowaway was beneath his dignity, but Zuko was good at sneaking, and he wasn't particularly interested in facing any of Zhao's men. Having Uncle with him helped—in a way. Zhao's men seemed to respect Uncle enough to keep their distance. That, or word had spread that General Iroh was not tolerating any breaches of sacred Agni Kai tradition, and nobody wanted to find out what the wrath of the Dragon of the West looked like.
But being alone with Uncle had its drawbacks too. For hours, Zuko could feel the weight of the impending lecture hanging in the air. Uncle would tell him that he had taken too great a risk, that he was lucky to have escaped with his life, that this Agni Kai was far too dangerous, that if Zuko would only listen every once in a while, this wouldn't have happened.
Well, Zuko did listen every once in a while. This just happened to fall in between the moments when he was listening. And he didn't regret it, not really. If Zuko hadn't gone to Crescent Island, Zhao would have captured the Avatar without question. He wasn't thrilled about the prospect of the Agni Kai, but a duel was a small price to pay for his chance to regain his honor and return home.
But Uncle didn't lecture him. Once they returned to the storage room to wait until it was time to begin preparations for the duel, Uncle didn't say much of anything. He sat across from Zuko on the second narrow bench, just staring, a weird, concerned look on his face. Every few minutes, Uncle would straighten up, open his mouth as if to say something, then give a little hmpf and settle back against the wall, drumming his fingertips against his stomach.
It was maddening. Zuko would have almost preferred the lecture.
"I'm telling you, there's something off here." Sokka kicked his sleeping bag and nearly tripped. Recovering his balance, he crossed his arms. "I don't like Jet. He's slimy."
Katara rolled her eyes and spread out her own sleeping bag. Jet had offered them a small but cozy room in the Freedom Fighters' treehouse complex. It was nice of him. The Freedom Fighters had an impressive settlement built in the treetops, but there were so many of them that Katara was a little surprised that they could spare the space. "You don't like anyone. You didn't trust Aang when we first found him."
Aang looked up from playing with Momo. "Wait, what?"
Sokka spluttered. "I—well—you know, in my defense, a glowing person popped out of a block of ice with a giant fluff monster. I'm not sure how I was supposed to respond to that."
Aang looked thoughtful for a second, then nodded. "That's fair. But Jet's not glowing and he doesn't have any fluff monsters." He tossed a twig for Momo to catch. "At least I don't think he does."
Sokka gaped for a second and Katara stood up and poked him in the shoulder.
"The point is that you're too suspicious. You always do this. Not everyone is as bad as you think."
Sokka threw his arms up. "Exactly! Some of them are worse!"
"Everything going okay in here?" Jet's voice interrupted from the doorway.
Sokka let out a squawk.
Jet looked amused, but to his credit, he didn't laugh.
Katara wasn't quite so restrained. She burst into giggles and Sokka scowled at her. She stuck out her tongue.
"It's great!" Aang hovered to his feet. "Treehouses are so cool. Maybe I'll live in one someday."
Jet nodded. "They're a lot safer than living on the ground when the Fire Nation is always around." The stalk of dried grass in his mouth quivered with each word, and he snuck a glance in Katara's direction.
Katara's heart started doing that pleasant fluttery thing again, but Sokka's exaggerated eye roll in the corner of her vision spoiled it. Jerk. She hadn't gone out of her way to squash his thing with Suki. Made fun of the makeup and the dress, maybe, but she'd left his obvious fascination with Suki alone. She glowered at Sokka.
Aang didn't seem to notice. "But treehouses are just more fun. Living up in the air is great."
"Sure, but we can't all live for fun." Jet crossed his arms and leaned against the door. "If these forests weren't swarming with firebenders, we'd be living on the ground. Out here, we take every strategic advantage we can find."
Katara gave Sokka another pointed look. See? Jet likes strategy too.
Seeming not to notice Aang's disappointment, Jet tilted his head toward Katara. "Anyway, there's a lot of the base I didn't get a chance to show you yet. Once you're settled—"
Katara dropped her pack on top of her sleeping bag and vaulted over the boys' belongings to the door. "I'm settled!"
His smile broadened. "Then maybe you'd like to join me?"
Katara nodded eagerly and followed him out before Sokka's protests could reach her or Aang could invite himself to join them.
The last time he'd done this, it had been servants helping him prepare. An old man Zuko recognized from the nighttime staff, but whose name he couldn't remember, had helped fix the ceremonial bands around his biceps, while an assortment of other faces had bustled in and out to fix his hair, to lay out the new, pristine outfit for the duel, to be certain that everything else was exactly how it ought to be. How tradition dictated that it should be.
Zuko couldn't remember feeling afraid, then. He was small, and young, but the gravity of the Agni Kai didn't quite make sense to him yet. He knew the importance. He knew how the fights sometimes ended. But he didn't quite understand.
He understood now. Uncle went quiet and solemn again when the time for the duel neared, and the silence as Uncle helped fasten the armbands in place and settled the silk cloth around his shoulders was nearly unbearable.
Normally, it would have been Lieutenant Jee helping with preparations, Jee and a few of the other crewmen, but Zhao wouldn't hear of it. Much as Zuko wanted to press the issue—he was not a prisoner, and he would not be treated like one—he knew better than to tempt fate again. If he argued his right for another witness, for more assistance in preparations for the duel, Zhao would turn it back on Zuko. He couldn't trust Zhao to honor the sacredness of the Agni Kai. If Zuko demanded anything more, he would go from near-prisoner to prisoner in a blink of an eye.
Instead, Zuko clenched his jaw and dressed for the fight, then sat silent while Uncle fussed with the armbands over and over again.
This time will be different. This time you'll fight. This time you'll win.
It turned in to a chant in his mind. Zuko wasn't thirteen anymore. He was a more capable fighter, even if his bending hadn't progressed as much as it should. He understood both the price of losing and the cost of winning in a way he hadn't before. And Zhao wasn't Father.
Zhao isn't Father. Zhao isn't Father. Zhao isn't Father.
"Remember your breathing, Prince Zuko," Uncle told him. "The fundamentals are the most essential part of firebending. Do not lose sight of them."
Zuko nodded vaguely along with him. He'd heard it all before, every day training with Uncle. Basics, basics, basics. Don't try anything too fancy, just focus on the basics. Child's stuff. Ordinarily, Zuko would have said as much, but Uncle stopped there, and the quiet became almost stifling. The lecture still didn't come.
Even now, with the sun creeping lower, nearer and nearer to the horizon in the west, he almost wanted the lecture. Zuko almost longed to hear Uncle tell him, you should have been more careful and you must stop taking such terrible risks. A distraction—any distraction—had to be better than the endless waiting.
For a second, Uncle looked like he wanted to say something, but again, the silence persisted. Uncle's warm, heavy hand squeezed his shoulder, and Zuko steeled himself.
He had good reasons, he reminded himself. This Agni Kai couldn't restore his honor, Zhao didn't have that power, but it could ensure his chance to try again. Zuko needed that.
His stomach tied itself in knots.
He wanted to fight Zhao. He wanted to prove that Zhao was wrong, that Zuko's mission was most important. That Zuko was still worthy of the Fire Nation's support. And he wanted to wipe the smirk off of the commander's big, sideburned face.
Zuko repeated that thought over and over until the spark of rage rekindled in his chest. He couldn't think about his last Agni Kai. He needed to win this one.
When the time came, and one of Zhao's men came to retrieve Zuko, he didn't so much as glance at Uncle. Straightening to his full height, Zuko nodded and took the steps to the improvised arena on deck as steadily as he could.
Author's Note:
Back when I first started working on this fic, I fully intended to skip Zuko's Agni Kai with Zhao. Because writing fight scenes scared me, and I didn't want to stick too close to canon. But as one of my favorite swampbenders once said, time is an illusion, and so are pants, so I'm throwing chronological order out the window and things are gonna get rearranged like crazy because drama. And because I feel like it :)
Also, I've been trying to be semi-original with the chapter titles most of the time, and this one looks fairly obvious because Jet's in it, but at the same time... Zuko is fighting for his own freedom. So who's the real Freedom Fighter here? (Sorry, I'm just making excuses for my lousy chapter naming abilities, but it's also true).
I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! Chapter 16 is coming up next week, so I hope you stick around for it. As always, I love hearing your thoughts on the story, so reviews are much appreciated!
