Hakoda had children. Two children, one a boy, and, Zuko guessed by the name, one girl. He'd written two letters, one to each of them.

Zuko felt like the letters were burning holes through his ship. He wanted to read them. He needed to see. Ozai hadn't sent Zuko letters, not even a single letter, in the entirety of his banishment. Would it have been different if Ozai was the one who'd been away? Fighting in the war?

Zuko wondered as he looked at the letters which one was older, Sokka, or Katara. If Sokka was older was Katara better than Sokka? More talented? And if so, why had it been Sokka's memory that'd stayed Hakoda's hand?

Zuko had the letters in his room. They'd been with the rest of the transport at first but after he'd seen them he couldn't get them out of his mind. They weren't even sealed. And the man had tried to kill him. Had attacked his crew. Hakoda owed him.

Zuko opened the letter to Sokka first.

My son, it opened, and Zuko felt briefly like he was drowning. Or burning. He wasn't sure which.

I think I finally found ship willing to deliver to the South Pole for a price we can afford, which is a miracle in and of itself. I miss you, you and your sister both, and want nothing more than to be able to go home. When the war is over.

Zuko couldn't help but wonder if the war would ever be over, if the monstrous thing that sucked away so many lives would ever halt, if it would ever be satisfied. How much blood could be spilt before someone screamed for peace?

The letter continued. Hakoda explained about what he'd been doing. He told Sokka that he believed in him.

He made sure that Sokka was looking out for Katara and the rest of the village.

I have to thank you, Hakoda wrote near the end, your memory saved my life a few months ago. There was a lone Fire Nation ship, and we thought we could take it intact with minimal casualties. It was a rare opportunity. It was a war ship, but it had a civilian license. It was run for the sole purpose of finding the Avatar.

They sought a peaceful resolution and we attacked. The attack did not go well from the start. Two of the firebenders aboard could also bend lightning. Even still, we were gaining a foothold and probably would have won, but the fire nation helmsman was a wily one. He was getting them out.

I went after him, and the captain of the ship defended. He was only fifteen, and so when he was at my mercy I hesitated, thinking of you. If I had killed the boy I have no doubt that I, along with the rest of the Water Tribe men who were captured, would be dead right now. The boy's uncle was very protective.

Instead of killing us though, they let us go. Compassion begets compassion.

It went on for a while more. Then,

I love you Sokka. Be brave. Be strong. Be true.

Until we meet again.

Your Father, Hakoda.

Zuko's hands were trembling and his eyes were blurring with tears and it didn't even make sense because this wasn't his father and that wasn't his name.

Zuko blinked the tears away and placed the letter back almost reverently.

He reached for Katara's. He had no right to these letters, no right to read them, but he was doing so anyways.

My daughter,

It began much the same way that Sokka's had. Zuko wondered if they would exchange their letters, then scoffed to himself. He imagined Ozai sending him and Azula letters. There was no doubt they'd both eventually read the other one's letter, but it wouldn't be a willing exchange.

In Katara's letter Hakoda explained more about the men, how they were doing rather than exactly what they were doing. It was different, but not inequal.

And then…

You have a special gift Katara. I am sorry that you do not, that you cannot, have a teacher as of yet, but I believe in you. Learn what you can now, and the day will come that you will find mastery. You would settle for nothing less.

Zuko puzzled over the words for a moment. Katara… she must be a water bender.

Katara was a waterbender and Sokka wasn't a bender at all and Hakoda… his letters had the same warmth for both of them. His letters were different enough to suggest he'd been writing based on what the recipients would be interested in, what they'd need to know.

"Why would my son need to be a powerful warrior or a great bender? How would that have anything to do with how much I love him?" Hakoda had said. He'd said it like he meant it, like he was offended that anyone would ever doubt it. Like it actually didn't matter to him.

Zuko stared at the letter and felt the tears start coming again, and this time he couldn't stop them. He put the letter away before he could ruin it with tearstains, Then squeezed his eyes shut, pulling his legs up against his chest and wrapping his arms around them.

What was right? Was Hakoda's way the way it was supposed to be? Were parents supposed to love their children just… because? Iroh would have, a voice whispered, he'd have loved Lu Ten no matter what. And for the first time, Zuko wondered if Iroh had been applying that same love, that same care, to him. Not because he needed to. Not because he was being forced to. Not because he felt guilty. Just… because.

…-…

They were fairly close to the village when a pillar of blue light split the sky. Zuko stared at it, hardly daring to believe his eyes.

If that… if that was what he thought it was… Zuko had the sudden urge to bless Hakoda. The desire wilted when he remembered the dead, but this- this could keep the rest of them alive.

Zuko breathed. They'd need to go to the village first, drop the stuff off as fast as possible. They wouldn't be able to come back to the village if they were chasing the Avatar. Zuko had given his word that these packages would be delivered, and he kept to his word.

It was important, even now.

…-…

As it turned out, they didn't even have to go after the source of the light. He came to them.

Zuko stared. The boy… he was a child. A child.

The girl, Katara, was explaining how he'd been frozen in an iceberg when Katara had magicked him out. Sokka was alternating between accusing Aang and Zuko of being Fire Nation spies. Zuko was staring. "You're the Avatar?" He shouted at the boy.

The boy started violently, his staff almost toppling out of his grasp as his ever present grin faltered. Everyone around them had stopped moving. Finally, the boy nodded.

"But!" Zuko said, "But- you're supposed to be an old man! Not a child!" A child kneeling on the floor, screaming as a handprint was burned into his face… "How old even are you?"

"You're only a teenager." The boy- Aang, his name was Aang, said.

"How old are you?!" Zuko repeated, louder.

"Twelve!"

"That's a terrible age!" Zuko said before he could think about it and of course-

"What's wrong with twelve?"

"It's almost thirteen!" Zuko realized he was trembling and his entire crew flinched back as though struck. They knew. Somehow that knew and he wasn't… he couldn't…

Ozai had held his hair in one hand and cupped his face in the other and started burning. Zuko was Ozai's son. What would Ozai do to the Avatar, another bright-eyed child who still thought that the world should be fair?

The entire village was looking between him and his crew and Zuko could almost see the dots connecting in their heads. Not all the right dots- they didn't have the correct pieces for that- but enough.

A burn scar that was years old. Thirteen. A trembling teenager and a crew that'd flinched. The dots there required no great leaps.

I hate this. I hate my life so very, very much right now. Zuko thought. "I'm going to bed." He said, and he knew he shouldn't, he should be strong, he should get back to work, he should help… but he didn't. He walked on. Back to the ship. Back to his room. He lay on his bed and curled up tight.

What am I supposed to do?