Long time no see!

Chapter Title Inspiration: "Run For Cover" by Gabrielle Aplin

As always, I'm so sorry for the long wait, guys. Life is a lot, especially as my time in Spain is coming to an end and I'm being forced to consider my next steps. As of right now, Colorado is my next destination! Hoping to get residency and then make the trek to Denver to start studying to become a Speech Language Pathologist! So pray for my poor, broke-af soul as I embark on the next chapter of my story!

Speaking of next chapters...

This bugger of a chapter has been half-written for months, but for some reason Zuko's POV was taking its sweet time to formulate itself into something I was half-way okay with. I'm still feeling iffy about it but at the same time I know this is as good as my brain is going to do. I hope you guys enjoy!

As always, if you like the chapter/have constructive criticism/want more ASAP...

PLEASE REVIEW!


Chapter 3: Hands Too Hard To Hold


Zuko sucked in a deep breath before continuing up the last few steps of the way to Iroh's cell, holding the soup bowl carefully as to conceal the scrap of paper pressed underneath. The guard stepped aside without protest, nodding to him as he passed. It wasn't illegal to visit prisoners, it was true, but Zuko still didn't want anyone important hearing about it. Hence the hefty bribe he pressed into the young woman's hand as he walked by.

"You have twenty minutes before the changing of the guard," she murmured. Zuko didn't acknowledge the words; he was already thinking about what he was going to say to his uncle.

Just yesterday, Zuko's father had revealed in the meeting that they were continuing their work on the war balloons, preparing for the coming of Sozin's Comet. He hadn't gone into detail about the targets of that day's attack but it was only a matter of time. In the meantime, he could get into contact with the Avatar and his friends…that is, if they would even listen to him after what happened in Ba Sing Se.

Zuko's steps faltered just before rounding the corner, his eyes closing in an attempt to block out the memory of Katara's tear-streaked face as she watched Aang fall. In his heart of hearts he knew that he made the right choice but it didn't make it any easier to watch what came after.

If you and Katara switched placed and it was Dakota that got shot in the back with lightning…would you listen?

Zuko chose to take the final steps rather than admit the ugly truth that came with a question like that.

Iroh was sitting cross-legged on the stone floor with his back to the bars. His grey hair hung in oily, unkempt strands around his shoulders. A glance at the small opening for food made Zuko breathe slightly easier—there was a clean meal tray there, the utensils and bowl nearly arranged atop it. It even made him smile slightly.

Even as a prisoner, his uncle was a gracious guest.

Zuko looked up as he approached the bars. "Hello, Uncle. I've brought you some soup—spiced chicken, your favorite. I know how much you missed Capital spiced chicken during my exile," he began as he carefully crouched down to place the bowl on the tray. He made sure that the slip of paper was on Iroh's side and therefore hidden from view of the guards that would walk past on their hourly rounds.

His uncle didn't move, didn't even seem to notice that his nephew was there, and the stony silence cut deep. Zuko had been expecting it but it still hurt to be on the receiving end.

"I know you're angry at me, Uncle, and I'm sorry for that. I was just doing what I thought was right—for everyone."

Nothing.

Zuko's hands clenched as he sucked in a deep breath. The past few weeks in the palace had left him worn and tired even after a full night's rest. He filled his days with his father's Council meetings—always silent, always the perfect, spinelessson—and his nights with hours of searching through old war plans in a desperate attempt to see hints of what his father might be planning. For appearance's sake, he ate lunch with Mai every day in his mother's garden, and after the first few awkward attempts he realized that he truly did enjoy her company. She hadn't touched him since that first day when he had been summoned to his father's Council and Zuko was grateful that she had enough tact to recognize his need for space.

But even with Mai he knew better than to let his guard slip too far. She cared for him, yes, but at the end of the day she answered to his father, to Azula, and therefore he couldn't risk being honest with her. The lack of freedom pressed down on Zuko until it felt like he was dragging a weight around with him every time he stepped outside his rooms.

A small, childish part of him had hoped that speaking with his uncle would relieve at least some of that pressure. Reality came in and swept that naïve desire aside as the silence continued.

Zuko let out a sigh. "You'll feel better after you eat the soup, Uncle. Please…please at least try it. I made it myself, so it's probably not as good as you remember, but I tried my best. I'm still…I'm still trying," he breathed, shaking his head firmly as his voice threatened to shake.

He wished he could tell his uncle everything instead of relying on scraps of paper that were entirely too short to properly express what he was feeling. He couldn't justify taking the time and space to explain to his uncle that every night, he dreamed of Dakota walking alone on a path leading away from Ba Sing Se and of her expression when she realized that Zuko and Iroh weren't coming to find her. That every night he ran to catch up with her and when he did, he always pulled her into his arms—even when she tried to push him away, even when she yelled and screamed at him for what he had done—because for a moment, she was there. Opening his eyes every morning was like being doused with ice water and yet every night he eagerly went to sleep because even the pain of waking up couldn't drive him away from dreams of her.

If Zuko tried to tell his uncle all of that, he'd have to smuggle in a book instead of an easily hidden scrap of paper.

Iroh continued to ignore him and Zuko cleared his throat to clear the ache that had formed in his chest.

"Goodbye, Uncle," he bit out before fleeing the tower. He told himself that it was because he had delivered his message and that he had done all he could to let Iroh know of his plans…but the truth was, it was to escape the silence.

For most of his life, Zuko had complained about how much Iroh talked. He whined to anyone who would listen about how annoying his 'crazy uncle' was and about how he wished that the man would stop embarrassing himself with silly tales and badly-timed jokes.

Now, Iroh was finally quiet, and Zuko felt stupid for ever having wished for such a thing.


It took two weeks for Dakota's wrists to heal enough to start training again. She didn't think she would ever get over the shock of it all; she had watched glowing water soothe and heal the angry, raw edges of her burns. The scars were still there of course, horrible and twisting around her wrists like scraggly roots, but she could finally hold things. She could point and grip a staff and go about her days without pain!

Dakota would never admit it out loud, but she cried like a baby the first time she was able to get dressed without any outside help.

The day after that momentous accomplishment, Maya showed up at her door with two training staffs in hand. That was when the warm fuzzy feelings came to a very abrupt halt.

"You could at least try not to laugh at me…" Dakota wheezed from her spread-eagle position on the deck. The Chief's ship was the only ship with a big enough space for training purposes, and as such, several other pairs of gypsies were currently sparring around them.

Maya grinned cheekily as she twirled her staff around; the movement was just shy of showing off.

"You definitely almost got me that time," the girl reassured her. Dakota snorted in disbelief before awkwardly maneuvering to her feet. Her wrists didn't hurt, per se, but the newly healed area still bothered her from time to time. Luka said that the stiffness would never go away completely and that she would have to be extra careful to stretch and do exercises to maintain good circulation there—such a small price to pay for almost full use of her hands.

"If you can't keep yourself from laughing, you could at least try to be a better liar," Dakota muttered, the comment drawing a pealing laugh out of the other girl.

"Luka was right; you are a bad influence! Trying to make a liar out of me!" Maya mock-gasped, clutching at her chest in a movement so full of desolation that Shakespeare himself would have wept to see it.

Dakota was surprised at the link her mind had made—it wasn't often that she thought about the literature and pop culture of her world. Part of her was terrified for the day where she would try to make a reference…only to realize she had forgotten the important little details.

"Coda?"

Dakota's body snapped to attention. "Sorry, just a bit distracted."

Maya's teeth worried her bottom lip. "You know I was just joking, right? The making-me-a-liar bit, I mean. Luka's definitely said that you're a bad influence but I can guarantee she meant it in a good way if her smile was anything—"

Dakota smiled at Maya's nervous babbling, halting the girl's tirade with a gentle tap on the shoulder from her staff.

"You're fine. I'm not so damaged that I can't tell when someone's teasing."

Maya smiled, though she had lost that spark of mischief from before. The girl was so sweet, really. Still impulsive and nosy but that was just her age; she'd grow into her strong personality, just as she had begun growing into her adult body. It was startling to realize that Maya had sprouted up like a goddamn tree since she had seen her last. It wouldn't be long before she stood taller than Dakota.

Henry was always worried that he'd never grow taller than me, Dakota mused as she watched the girl settle into her fighting stance, eyes alight with energy as she began to explain the technique. I wonder, is he taller than me now?

Dakota's throat tightened. Before she could tell Maya she needed a break—needed to hide away before she started blubbering in front of all these people—something solid shoved past her. With no warning and her mind worlds away Dakota predictably went down like a sack of bricks. The wood was warm against her hands—never hot, never like Zuko's ship—as she broke her fall. The movement sent zings of pain up her forearms but she gritted her teeth rather than let herself cry out.

"Hey!" Maya angrily yelled, at her side in an instant and helping her to her feet.

Dakota looked up and found herself face to face with a tall gypsy girl—easily taller than Zuko—with tan skin, long black hair and green eyes rimmed with kohl. Around her neck was a gleaming clamshell, identical to the one Dakota herself wore—only the girl's was green instead of red. The way the other gypsies were staring at the stranger made Dakota immediately on edge—they were deferring to her even as they frowned in disapproval, stepping back rather than confront.

Whoever she was, she was high up on the food chain. Maya, bless her, was glaring daggers even in the face of the gypsy's apparent status.

The newcomer didn't sneer, didn't scowl or in any way show her anger, but that only served to highlight the burning distaste in her eyes. Dakota wanted to laugh, just a bit, because the girl was trying to intimidate her. After dealing with Azula's rage first hand, Dakota doubted she would ever be intimidated by anything less than that.

The girl stepped closer, not sparing a glance for Maya even when the younger gypsy stepped in front of Dakota to try and shield her. Without warning Maya was moved aside, so unnaturally quickly that Dakota couldn't help but flinch because how—?

A glance answered her question; a thin but sturdy line of earth encircled Maya's shoulders and waist.

"Sha, tea se le reskimala," the gypsy—the Earthbender—said softly.

The last word she said rang a familiar bell in Dakota's mind.

Dakota straightened her shoulders. "Yeah, I'm the Firebender. Here to spit on me and tell me I'm trash? I can't say it's the most original plan but hey, whatever floats your boat," she said, willing her voice to stay level. The girl didn't react, didn't give the barest hint that she had heard, and that level of control was more than a little unsettling.

After what felt like entire minutes the gypsy tilted her head to one side in order to make eye-contact with her companion—the tall, heavily tattooed man cut a much less imposing figure than the girl did, shockingly, which would explain Dakota not noticing him until that moment.

"Ne cana ni stei krena. Seka da le reskima defa," she murmured, her companion chuckling at her words. Dakota had no idea what was being said but got the idea it was something derogatory when Maya's face went red with anger.

"Bita stei sook da stei pusha!" Maya spat.

At that, the crowd visibly shifted with discomfort. Dakota glanced around, hoping for someone to translate, but no such luck. The stranger's head snapped to Maya and in an instant the younger gypsy girl was yanked so that the two were eye-to-eye; Maya's feet dangled uselessly above the ground because she wasn't quite tall enough on her own.

Dakota's blood boiled at the rough treatment. Her fire almost came within her grasp but it was gone just as quickly. The burning center that resided in her chest—one that hadn't been sustained by anger but by something more steady—was so low that it took all of her energy just to sense it. Had Azula's attack taken her Firebending as well as scarred her skin?

She opened her mouth to say something—anything—when Luka's sharp, familiar voice called out:

"Evani!"

The girl's head jerked at the sound, enough to where Dakota wondered if the word was a command or if it was the girl's name. For the first time, real emotion flooded the girl's face—a flash of longing quickly masked by a bitter scowl.

Dakota and the rest of the spectators turned to see Luka standing at the upper deck, staring down at the newcomer with hard lines of disappointment etched into her youthful face. The stranger stared right back as she released Maya from her earth-hold and Dakota felt instantly embarrassed at catching a glimpse of the look shared between them—it was both combative and intimate, something that sent all sorts of questions running through her mind.

Luka slowly made her way down the stairs to the training deck, never breaking eye contact with the newcomer.

"Wi mav—" the Earthbender began, only to have Luka swiftly interrupt:

"Common-speak, please…unless you want to continue embarrassing yourself and your Clan? First, you knock down an innocent, injured girl. Next, you threaten the Lelino Second's daughter. I'd say you've done enough damage for one day," the blue-eyed gypsy snapped as she reached Dakota's side.

Evani's eyes narrowed. Without another word she stormed past Luka—careful not to touch her, Dakota couldn't help but notice—and swept through the doors leading down to the main meeting hall. The moment she and her companion left, the fight seemed to go out of Luka in a rush. Her shoulders slumped ever so slightly and her eyes lost their frosty edge—a much sadder weight replaced it.

Maya took a small step forward. "Luka—"

Luka's eyes flashed. "You behaved no better than she did, Maya. Go report to the kitchens—you're scrubbing pots for the rest of the day."

"But I was just—"

"Go," Luka barked. The sternness in her tone not only caused Maya to jump to obey but everyone else on deck as well.

Dakota, for one, wasn't quite sure if she was included in that command. When the people near her started to leave she took a hesitant step to follow but Luka's hand closed on her shoulder the moment she tried, effectively making it clear that no, she wasn't included.

The moment they were alone Luka turned to Dakota and gently examined her bandaged wrists. The pale blue wrappings were more for Dakota's pride than for actual protection—the wounds had fully closed and no longer risked infection when exposed. With a concerned huff of breath, Luka summoned a small stream of water from the canteen attached to her belt.

Dakota wondered if it was normal, Luka's insane control over her element. Not only did the healer make the water go through each individual cloth fiber of the bandaging in order to scan the patient's skin, she also made sure that not one bit of moisture was left in the wrappings themselves. Surely that level of skill wasn't normal for one so young?

Dakota cleared her throat.

"I'm fine, really. She was just—" she started, but quickly fell silent at Luka's sharp look.

"No, don't make excuses for her. She had no right to treat you like that; end of story. I just…" Luka trailed off, and Dakota watched her expression flit between a series of emotion—frustration, anger, sadness—before she continued, "I wish I could show you the Evani that…the one I…"

The older gypsy stopped speaking; her mouth had twisted into an unhappy frown.

"I understand how that feels," Dakota murmured, looking down as the last of the water oozed itself out of the bandage and flowed back into the canteen. A surprised huff made her look up and find Luka staring down at her—the older girl's gaze was so intense, somehow managing to be effortlessly open and deeply hidden at the same time.

"I know you do," Luka said softly. Dakota realized what the girl was referring to and felt her entire body tense up as a result. Zuko was just as outwardly bitter and difficult to understand at first, but at his core he was gentle and caring. It was a side of him that so few took the time to discover.

Dakota scowled. "And look where it got me. I never thought he was…that he could—"

The Waterbender helpfully stepped in when Dakota's voice broke. "It's hard to admit that the people we love are capable of terrible things," she said gently.

Dakota's head snapped up at that. She wanted to open her mouth and deny it, wanted to lessen the ache by trying to diminish the level of affection, but one look at Luka's unyielding expression let her know how useless the attempt would be.

"Shouldn't it change how we feel?" she finally whispered, afraid to speak too loudly for fear of being overheard. Who knew what would happen to her if anyone else learned of her continued feelings for the Fire Nation prince.

Luka laughed hollowly. "It should, shouldn't it? It's a pain in the ass, this whole 'love' thing. We think we're safe, we think we're in control and then bam…we're madly in love with no idea how we got there."

Dakota opened her mouth to ask the question burning on the tip of her tongue, eyes drawn to the prominent tan line around Luka's left wrist—the amber-bead engagement bracelet that had been there when they met was noticeably absent—but lost her nerve at the last second. Luka didn't seem to notice the moment of indecision, simply giving her one last smile before stepping back.

"Go find Tali and ask for something to do. Keeping you out of the way will do everyone some good," the Waterbender suggested, clapping Dakota on the shoulder before beginning to turn towards the main meeting hall.

"Luka, I—" Dakota began, biting her lip when Luka turned back to face her. "I just want to say I'm sorry. It's obvious that I'm the reason Evani is so angry, and I just…I'm sorry for that. I don't want you or anyone else to suffer because of me being here."

Luka shook her head with a wry smile, reaching out to tuck an errant strand of hair behind Dakota's ear.

"Sil ta frena fi dravu, mev ta frena fi wika."

Dakota huffed. "I need to start taking lessons if you guys are going to keep—"

"It's an old gypsy saying: You can't fight for others if you're not also willing to fight for yourself."

And with that, the older girl turned and disappeared below deck.