The frog was staring at him. Aang turned his back on the inquisitive amphibian and continued to scrub his shirt and cape clean, dunking the cloth back into the stream when necessary. Right now he didn't want to look at a frog, frozen or otherwise, for a long, long time. Though, to be fair, it wasn't the frog's fault that he had been captured, bound with chains, and then finally rescued by one of his most dangerous adversaries. No, that mistake was all his.
"I'm so stupid," Aang muttered, rubbing harder at the red patches mottling his cape. "I should have known Zuko hadn't really changed." Scrub, scrub scrub. "I mean, he's been chasing me all over the world. He's always trying to capture me, and setting things on fire, and—"
The soap slipped out of Aang's hand and was carried away by the current, where it bobbed up and down in the water with a taunting kind of glee. Aang made a strangled sound of frustration and threw his clothes in a heap on the rock beside him. It seemed like nothing was going right for him at the moment. Even the stupid bar of soap was against him!
A ribbon of water glided past him, plucking out the foamy bar from the stream and then brought it back towards the shore. Surprised, Aang turned his head to see Katara close her hand around the soap and glance at him with a smile. Instead of grinning in return, as he normally would have done, he hugged his knees to his chest and looked back at the stream. There was an awkward silence as he ignored her, even though he could feel her staring at his back. She came and sat down beside him.
"Hey," she said, nudging him with her elbow. "What's wrong?"
Aang rested his chin on his knees, frowning at the ripples swirling in the water. "I don't want to talk about it."
She placed a hand on his arm. "Is it the nightmares again?"
He shook his head.
"Then what?"
He said nothing. He didn't want to think about what had happened last night, let alone discuss it. For the first time, he wished Katara would just leave him alone.
She sighed and picked up his discarded clothes, resuming scrubbing where he had left off. He stared at his feet and tried to ignore the wriggly, clenching feeling in his stomach. Try as he might, he could not get his conversation with Zuko out of his head. Just thinking about how quickly Zuko had thrown that fireball at him made his heart feel so terribly heavy, and he wasn't sure why. He'd always known Zuko was his enemy. It shouldn't hurt this much that he had been rejected. Except it did. It really did.
"Wait a minute," Katara muttered.
He blinked and saw her raise the orange cape to her eyes.
"Are those—are those blood stains?" she demanded.
Aang froze, his whole body tensing as if preparing for flight. Katara turned a pair of flashing blue eyes on him and he squirmed guiltily, feeling like he was being read inside and out. She gasped in outrage.
"They are, aren't they?" She bunched the stained cloth in her fist.
Aang held his hands up in an appeasing gesture. "Katara, I can explain—"
"You'd better explain!" She poked him hard in the ribs. "Yesterday you said you were just going to visit the herbalist. Now I find you've got blood all over your clothes and—" The fury died in her eyes and she latched her fingers around his upper left arm. "Aang," she breathed, covering her mouth with one hand. "Oh, Aang, what happened to your shoulder?"
Aang glanced down at the discoloured patch of skin where his wound used to be. Now that he'd washed all the blood away it just looked pink and rough, like the gnarled grooves on a tree trunk. He couldn't really complain, though. If Zuko hadn't healed him, he'd most likely be dead right now. Having a scar was a small price to pay.
"Aang," Katara repeated in a low voice, dropping his bloodstained clothes and taking his hands in hers. "What really happened last night?"
Their eyes met. He found himself trapped by the sheer concern and warmth he could see reflected in her expression. He exhaled softly, realising he could not keep this secret to himself any longer. At least, not when she was looking at him like that.
"I got caught," he confessed. "Admiral Zhao—you know that mean guy with the huge side-burns who came after us at the Fire Temple?"
She nodded.
"Well, he sent these archers after me and they were good. Really good. They got me while I was looking for some frogs for you and Sokka in the swamp."
"Right," she said, drawing out the word in distaste as she released his hands. "The frogs."
He gave a sheepish smile, remembering how upset she and Sokka had been when they'd realised they'd been sucking on frozen swamp creatures. As Aang had pointed out, however, the frogs had worked. Sokka no longer thought he was an earthbender and the siblings' fevers had gone right down. Aang never did figure out why Katara had been wearing a crown.
"Anyway," Aang continued, lowering his gaze to stare at his twiddling thumbs. "The archers brought me back to this big fortress and Zhao locked me up in a cell. I couldn't move. I couldn't even airbend, really. And since you and Sokka were still sick and had no idea where I was, I knew I was as good as dead." He let out a breath and fell silent for a moment.
"What happened then?" she prompted, watching him closely.
"I—" He swallowed. "A warrior in a blue mask came. He ... he rescued me, but then the alarm went off while we were escaping. We had to fight all these soldiers, and …" His shoulders slumped forward and he again fell silent, though his thumbs moved round and round more frantically than ever.
Katara closed her fingers over his hands, halting the nervous motions. "Tell me," she said softly.
His voice was very small when he spoke. "They were going to shoot him, Katara. Just like that. I saw the arrow coming for his head and I didn't think. I just moved."
"So that's how you got hurt." A crease formed on her brow. "Wait a minute. If you got hit with an arrow last night, why does your wound look so ... patched up?"
Aang sucked in a breath. "Because he healed me."
"What?" Katara shook her head, though it seemed she was more confused than disbelieving. "How?"
"I don't know." He frowned and absently touched his hand to his shoulder, feeling the uneven skin under his fingertips. "I was barely conscious when it happened, but I remember warmth. Lots and lots of warmth." A shrug. "Anyway, when I woke up my injury was gone. We parted ways after that, so I came to help you guys."
Katara's frown deepened. "What a strange warrior. I can't believe he'd just rescue you like that and then leave. Did you at least manage to find out his identity?"
Aang was silent for a long moment. "No," he said, almost in a whisper. "I didn't."
She sighed. "That's too bad."
Aang said nothing. His stomach was doing that wriggly, clenching thing again and he knew it was because he had lied. He didn't even know why he had lied. The masked warrior's identity was no secret to him. He'd seen the scarred face underneath; he'd watched the flames rush towards him after his tentative offer of friendship had been rejected. But a part of Aang wanted to believe that Masky—the silent swordfighter who had freed him and then saved his life—still existed somewhere. A part of him wanted to believe that not everything was so black and white.
"If we knew each other back then, do you think we could have been friends?"
A fireball had answered him no, but as Aang ran his fingers over freshly healed skin, he couldn't help but wonder. Maybe his friend could still be found. Maybe it was the scarred, angry face he so often saw that was really the mask. Maybe the real Zuko was buried within, grinning through a swirl of blue and white.
A sad smile curled Aang's lips. He sure hoped so. It would be nice to have a Fire Nation friend again.
oOo
Zuko ducked the fireball coming for his face, feeling the heat glide over the back of his neck as he swivelled round to retaliate with a sharp kick. A small jet of flames bloomed forth. Before the attack could get anywhere near his opponent, his uncle stepped forward and brought his hand down in a slicing motion, snuffing the flames out as easily as a candle. Zuko straightened to his full height, indignation tingling through his veins as he glared at his uncle. How dare Uncle interrupt his training?
"What are you doing, Uncle?" he demanded, panting slightly as he tried to catch his breath.
Iroh gestured for Lieutenant Jee to stand down from sparring and then frowned at his nephew. "I have been watching you, Prince Zuko. You are not fighting at your usual level of skill. Your form is sloppy and your fire attacks are weak."
Zuko opened his mouth to retort, but Iroh held up an admonishing hand.
"No, Nephew, do not argue with me. You and I both know that there is no point continuing this training session if you will not focus. You will only get yourself hurt."
"I am focussed!"
"No, you're not." Iroh's face wrinkled with concern and he placed a hand on Zuko's shoulder, hesitating a moment before speaking. "If there is something troubling you, you know that—"
"There is nothing troubling me!" Zuko snapped, wrenching his shoulder free and turning his back on the older man.
Iroh sighed. "The wise komodo rhino knows when his burden is too much for him to carry alone."
Zuko's eyes narrowed. "The wise komodo rhino also knows when to mind his own business."
Iroh stroked his beard, frowning thoughtfully. "Is this about Admiral Zhao? Because—"
"I don't care about Admiral Zhao!"
A painful silence followed. Zuko gripped the ship railing in front of him and glared at the ocean, still keeping his back to his uncle. Somehow, even just looking at that endless expanse of blue made him angrier. It was just another reminder of his failure, of his weakness. He tightened his grasp on the metal, jaw clenched with suppressed rage.
"Prince Zuko," Iroh began gently.
"Enough!" Zuko growled, swinging around to face him. "I don't need your proverbs, I don't need your tea, and I certainly don't need your comfort!"
Without waiting for a response, Zuko stepped away from his uncle and stalked back to his cabin, slamming the door shut behind him. The Fire Nation flag greeted his vision in all its red vibrancy. He squeezed his eyes shut, blocking out the image as he let his head fall back with a thud against the door. For a moment he just stood there like that, breathing in and out in deep, calming breaths to try to ease some of the turmoil pressing down on his mind. It didn't help.
Trembling slightly, he opened his eyes and let his fist fly forward in a basic punch. A pathetic puff of flames sprouted forth and then vanished in another instant. "Damn it!" he groaned, burying his face into his hands.
Just as he had feared, his firebending was indeed weaker. His uncle had accused him of not focussing or using the proper technique, but Zuko knew it was more than that. Ever since he had healed the Avatar, his ability to create fire had been more difficult. He could still feel the power there, waiting to be summoned, but it felt faint and subdued, as if his inner fire had been doused with cold water and was just barely clinging to life. Even creating a simple plume of flame seemed to take extreme effort and it didn't help that he felt continually exhausted either. He was like a starved plant trying to find the sun, desperate for any kind of warmth and nourishment, but all he ever seemed to find was an endless, empty darkness. It was terrifying.
Still, Zuko had not given up. As soon as he realised what was happening he had returned to his training, hoping that his weakened state was just a temporary phase and could be overcome with dedication and hard work. Now he couldn't help but wonder if that was just wishful thinking on his part. Being outside had helped—he'd certainly felt lighter and more energised—but his firebending was still a joke. He'd be lucky to have a meadow vole run for cover from one of his fireballs, let alone the Avatar and his friends.
Zuko gritted his teeth. "It will pass," he told himself sternly. "Stop acting so weak."
But still his hands trembled and a lump formed in his throat. He just didn't understand why this was happening to him. He could even admit that he was afraid. What if he lost his ability to firebend? What would become of him then? He'd already lost his home, his honour, his family. Was he supposed to lose the comfort of his inner fire as well?
There was a knock at the door. Zuko flinched back from the metal, only to scowl when he heard his uncle requesting permission to enter.
"I don't know why you're asking now," he responded sourly. "Needing my permission has never stopped you before."
A chuckle reverberated from the other side of the metal and then the door started to open. Alarmed, Zuko tried to plaster on some semblance of composure, but he wasn't quick enough. Iroh took one look at his face and then sighed in a way that Zuko both knew well and hated. Suddenly, he found himself being enfolded in a strong embrace, surrounding him with the scent of jasmine tea and old spices. He gritted his teeth and kept his arms clamped firmly to his sides, refusing to respond to the hug. His heart, however, was far from unaffected.
"Zuko," Iroh murmured, clasping him tighter to his chest. "I have always told you not to keep things bottled up, and I would be a poor uncle if I were not willing to listen. Please, tell me what's wrong."
A tremor went through Zuko's body. He didn't want to say anything, didn't want to rely on another to get through the hardships of life when he knew that he should be overcoming them himself. But he was just so tired and scared. So sick with worry. In his heart, he knew that he didn't want to deal with this on his own.
"I don't know what's happening to me," he confessed in a surprisingly small voice. "I—you were right, Uncle. My firebending is weaker, but it's more than that. I—" He swallowed. "I think I'm losing my ability to call upon my inner fire. It feels so faint, and it hurts."
Iroh held Zuko back at arm's length. "How did this happen? When did your symptoms first start?"
Zuko shrugged helplessly. "Yesterday morning, I guess, and I'm not sure how it happened."
As much as he wanted to tell his uncle about his strange healing abilities, he just couldn't. Firebenders were not supposed to heal. Firebenders were fighters. They simply did not heal. Ever. Besides, as understanding as his uncle could be, somehow Zuko didn't think that the great Dragon of the West would appreciate why his nephew had chosen to sneak into a heavily guarded fortress to steal the Avatar, only to then have his firebending abilities almost snuffed out because he'd somehow stopped said Avatar from dying. No, his uncle would not understand at all. Much better to lie.
"I really don't know," Zuko stressed again, averting his gaze.
Iroh let go of Zuko's shoulders and frowned to himself, stroking his beard. "Well, I'm not sure how this has happened, but from your symptoms it sounds to me like you are suffering from chi deficiency."
Zuko blinked. "Chi deficiency?"
He'd never experienced the sickness before. It was said that over-bending in a short space of time or spending long periods in the poles during the months of darkness caused the sickness, but that was only for the weakest of firebenders. Most were fine. Still, if this was what chi deficiency felt like, he could appreciate why it was a problem. It was an exhausting and terrifying experience.
Iroh continued to stroke his beard, tilting his head from side to side as he examined his nephew. "Well, it's either that or you've been poisoned by the juices found in the petals of the rare nisshoku flower, in which case you have about three days left before you die a slow and painful death."
The colour drained from Zuko's face, but he pulled himself together a second later. "Thank you, Uncle," he said dryly. "That is exactly what I needed to hear."
Iroh chuckled and patted Zuko on his arm. "Don't worry, Nephew. There is a simple way to tell if it's chi deficiency that is causing your problems."
"Really? How?"
A smile curved his uncle's mouth. The next thing Zuko knew he was stripped to just a red loincloth and was being forced to stand on the main deck, directly in the path of the afternoon sun. His crew were far too intimate with his temper to laugh, but that didn't mean Zuko couldn't feel their amused glances crawling all over his skin or hear their teasing comments. After an hour of such treatment, Zuko had enough.
"This is ridiculous," he snarled, folding his arms across his bare chest. "Uncle, how long do I have to stand here like this?"
Iroh, who had taken up residence on his favourite chair, now waved his fan lazily to and fro. "The best way to restore a firebender's chi levels is by absorbing sunlight through direct contact with the skin. We are simply speeding up that process." He smiled at his nephew's disgruntled expression. "I did tell you that you could lie down if you got uncomfortable, but you didn't want to."
Zuko gritted his teeth. "I am not going to lie down on this deck."
"Why not? I hear it's very relaxing. Just like sunbathing on the beach."
A growl and rather a lot of flames was all Iroh got in response. For a moment nephew and uncle just stared at each other, then Zuko's mouth twitched into a pleased grin.
"Uncle, did you see that?" he exclaimed, forgetting all about his previous frustration. "I managed to use the breath of fire! And the flames were actually hot!"
Iroh closed his fan and took a sip of his jasmine tea. "Well, it looks like we can rule out nisshoku poisoning."
oOo
Two more days passed before Zuko sensed that his firebending abilities had returned to normal. In that time, he did little but laze about in the sun and have the occasional spar with Lieutenant Jee, Tomoki and Kan, the only firebenders on the ship who were brave enough to train with him. Normally, such tame pursuits would have sent Zuko into a restless fit of rage, but Zhao was still not letting any ships in and out of port, so there was not much else he could have done unless he wanted to hunt for the Avatar on foot. His uncle, of course, had been delighted with the forced mini-vacation and had decided to make the most of it.
"See, Prince Zuko," Iroh commented on the third day, smiling as he poured his nephew a cup of tea. "A moment of quiet is good for your mental well-being."
Zuko said nothing and raised his cup to take a sip, only to have the scalding liquid splash in his face as something heavy rammed into the ship. "What the—" he growled, wiping the tea from his face.
Exchanging a brief glance with his uncle, Zuko stood up and made his way to the main deck. His eyes narrowed when he spotted a woman making her way across the deck on a large creature he did not recognise. When he heard that she was looking for a stowaway, he was even less impressed, at least until the beast ripped away a part of the deck with its teeth and paralysed the man who emerged from the hole. Still, what interested Zuko most was how she'd even known to look on his ship. When he asked her as much, the woman smiled and gave a fond pat to the creature's flank.
"My shirshu can smell a rat a continent away," she told him.
Iroh raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Well, I'm impressed," he observed. He watched as she leapt back onto her shirshu and raced off into the distance with a flick of her whip. A small grin tugged at his mouth. "Very impressed."
Zuko scowled. One of these days that old man was going to make him sick.
Someone coughed from behind them. "Uh, Prince Zuko."
Zuko turned and saw Tomoki clutching his firebender helmet in his hands, looking a little nervous. "What?" he snapped.
Tomoki fidgeted with the helmet. "We were just wondering what you wanted us to do with, uh—" he gestured to the gaping hole where the stowaway had been hidden, as well as the metal slab that had been torn away from the deck.
Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb. Right, the damage. "We'll need to make repairs." Again, his mind added. "Take the head engineer with you ashore and purchase whatever he says we need to fix the deck. Hire some extra helpers if it comes to that. I don't care about the cost; I just want this ship ready to move by the time Zhao lifts the ban."
"Yes, sir!"
"Better take Kan and Nozomi with you as well," Iroh advised. "Colonel Shinu and his men have yet to conquer all of the area surrounding Pohuai Stronghold. Not everyone will look kindly upon the Fire Nation, nor wish to help us with our problem."
Zuko nodded at Tomoki to show that he agreed with this assessment. It was sound logic, even though he was also certain that the Earth Kingdom traders wouldn't turn away a bag of gold regardless of what nation's symbol was stamped on the front. If anything, the greedy extortionists would just raise the price to try and get even more money out of their Fire Nation customers. It had happened before, and while Zuko could have threatened his way out of paying altogether, and did indeed haggle until the fee was lowered to a more reasonable price, he and his crew did not have the luxury of being able to always rely on Fire Nation aid if things got ugly. It was one of the many drawbacks of being a banished prince. Often he was just left to his own devices.
Tomoki bowed to both men and then marched off to carry out his orders. Zuko's gaze flicked back to the hole gouged into the deck. A crease formed on his brow. "How did a stowaway even get on the ship?" he mused aloud.
They had a patrol system in place to avoid just this scenario. While Zuko was capable of slipping past the watch when he chose, other people were certainly not allowed to do so, especially not some Earth Kingdom peasant. His crew might be a motley lot, but he still expected them to do their jobs properly. Speaking of which.
"Where is Lieutenant Jee?" he demanded, raising his voice loud enough for everyone on deck to hear.
A spearman who had been standing nearby flinched and almost dropped his weapon, no doubt startled by the sound of that commanding tone. Zuko stared at him pointedly until the man stammered that he would go find the lieutenant right this minute, with much bowing and sirs. Once uncle and nephew were alone again, Iroh gave Zuko one of his side-long looks.
"Perhaps I should call for more te—"
"Don't even start with the tea, Uncle!" Zuko snapped, folding his arms across his chest. "Contrary to what you think, it is not the solution to everything."
Iroh gave a good-humoured smile. "You say that now, but that's because you are not enjoying the relaxing influence of a nice cup of jasmine tea."
Zuko closed his eyes in exasperation. Spirits grant him patience.
He was still bemoaning his uncle's obsession with the drink when he heard the sound of a throat being cleared. He straightened, pushing all thought of annoying uncles and tea aside, and turned to face the lieutenant.
"You wished to speak to me, sir?" Jee asked.
"Yes," Zuko said bluntly, "I want to know how a stowaway got on the ship. He was hiding in the hold in one of the empty supply barrels."
Jee glanced at the gaping hole in the deck, then at the metal slab some of the crew were currently trying to shift. "Well, I can only assume that he must have slipped past the guard and—"
"Exactly!" Zuko interrupted. "Make sure it doesn't happen again. I won't have my mission to capture the Avatar jeopardised by some stowaway criminal."
Jee's jaw tightened a fraction and for a moment the two firebenders stared at each other as if sizing the other up. It was true that they had reached a better understanding during the storm, but that didn't change the fact that the lieutenant was an outspoken man who did not appreciate being asked to do more than what he considered reasonable, nor did it change Zuko's own intolerance of what he deemed his crew's incompetence and excuses.
"Of course, Prince Zuko," Jee said with a slight bow. "We'll be more thorough with our inspections next time and increase the guard while at port."
"Thank you," Zuko said with exaggerated politeness, and then turned to face his uncle.
His uncle who was now holding out a cup of hot jasmine tea for him.
Zuko smacked his palm against his forehead. The motion made something slip out from his sleeve. He blinked as he saw that it was the waterbender girl's necklace. He'd forgotten that he'd strapped it around his wrist for safekeeping.
"Your tea, Nephew," Iroh prompted.
"Right," Zuko muttered, absently accepting the cup.
His gaze drifted to the harbour where he had seen the bounty hunter disappear, and he frowned as he thought back to the strange creature she had been riding. On his wrist, the pendant continued to glint in a sparkle of blue.
oOo
Later that night, Zuko sat in his cabin and pondered over what he was going to do next. Now that he was back to his usual fighting capacity, he found himself itching to get moving again. Unfortunately, four days stuck at port had well and truly made the Avatar's trail go cold. It could take days, maybe even weeks, to track the elusive monk's position again. Days that Zuko knew he did not have. However, seeing the way that bounty hunter had captured the stowaway had given him an idea.
With Zhao still watching him and his crew like a hawk, Zuko knew that there was no way he would be able to slip past the blockade using his main vessel. The steamboat could, and had, sneaked through unnoticed, but it was not designed for long distance travel, nor would it fare well on deeper waters. The komodo rhinos were out because they would attract too much attention and that left Zuko with only one choice: he needed to find that bounty hunter.
The woman had said her shirshu tracked by scent. Zuko did not have anything of the Avatar's, but he did still have the waterbender's necklace in his possession. He wasn't even sure why he'd held on to the pendant the second time—it certainly hadn't helped him back at the riverside when he'd used it to blackmail her—but now he simply congratulated himself on his foresight. He'd seen how fast the shirshu could run; it would be easy enough to catch up to his quarry if the creature was using the necklace to track the girl's scent, and wherever she was, the Avatar and her brother were sure to be as well. It was a foolproof plan.
Zuko's eyes narrowed a fraction and he stared down at the necklace in his hand, absently running his thumb over the carvings etched into the pale blue stone. Yes, it was a foolproof plan, so he couldn't understand why he felt so unsettled. Luck was finally on his side again. He had his firebending back and now he had a way to track and capture the Avatar, for if the boy resisted, he could just get the bounty hunter to use her pet and paralyse him. There was no way the plan could fail, no way he could fail, and yet—
"If we knew each other back then, do you think we could have been friends?"
Zuko tightened his grip on the necklace. In his mind, he saw a boy wearing an orange cape bleeding in his arms, looking so fragile and small, so young and defenceless. Then the flames lighting his room went dead and he saw only darkness.