A/N:

9/2/22 edit; removed the original snippet from Katara's POV as it messed with the timeline. Also, Zuko doesn't get rid of the mask like he did after saving Appa originally.

Enjoy!

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Hours away, Zuko and his uncle Iroh explored the merchant port on the western shores of the Earth Kingdom.

It was weird being back there, Zuko decided. The last time he'd been in this particular port was when he'd been in cohorts with the pirates to try to get the Avatar - and get the captain's waterbending scroll back.

He remembered capturing Katara late that night.

All he could think about back then was capturing the Avatar, restoring his honor and making his father proud...making him actually care about him.

Now, he knew that that was not his destiny…. not the one he would choose for himself.

At that thought, he scowled, realizing he sounded like Iroh.

As if on cue, Iroh grunted from beside him.

"What is it?" He turned to look at the older man, who had stopped to lean against a crate in between two merchant stalls.

"It is nothing," he grunted, the look on his face saying otherwise. "I just stopped to...to catch my breath."

Their journey into the market had been their first since his uncle's injury.

Zuko had chosen his uncle that day, over his sister.

Iroh, over his supposed honor.

Zuko stared at his uncle for a moment, who had just pushed himself off the barrel and continued to walk through the market.

"I am fine, Zuko," Iroh said lowly. "You worry too much."

Zuko said nothing, following behind his uncle.

Azula always lies. His mind whispered.

That, coupled with his decision to free the Avatar's bison had been enough.

He'd felt cursed to chase the Avatar forever, cursed with the scar his father had given him.

But something inside Zuko had changed, though the young man wasn't quite able to put his finger on what.

After much internal debate, he decided at the very least, he was free to chase his own destiny.

That realization alone was enough to take a large part of the heavy weight off his shoulders...temporarily at least.

His last encounter with the young waterbender resurfaced. They had been trapped in the tunnels, mostly silent until the end.

Eventually, they had started talking, opening up to one another.

She'd viewed him as a person for just a moment, not the banished prince he'd always been seen as.

When she'd mentioned the spirit water, suddenly she was standing right there, right in front of him.

He'd just gawked at her, shocked the water tribe girl - the one he'd tied to a tree and fought countless times - would tell him that she was a healer.

Her enemy.

But maybe, he thought again, the realization further dawning on him...

Maybe he wouldn't have to be.

Katara had pressed her cool fingertips to his cheek, right where his face turned a horrible shade of red and Zuko had looked down.

Nervousness and excitement had bubbled up inside him at the thought of even this small possibility that she could take away his mark, the mark of the banished prince.

Then, Aang and Iroh had appeared, bursting through the wall, snapping them both out of whatever that had been.

Her head had whipped over to the sound of the noise, and as soon as she'd seen the bald boy, she'd exclaimed and ran over to him, throwing her arms around his frame.

The moment, not that it was anything to even call a moment - had disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

Iroh suddenly was embracing him and it took the prince a few moments to realize what had happened.

Iroh and Aang had worked together to find them.

"What are you doing with the Avatar?" He'd asked Iroh.

The bald brat cut off Iroh, saying, "Saving you, that's what!"

Zuko growled in anger at his smart remark, only to instead turn his attention to his uncle, who'd stopped him from charging at the pair.

"Why, Uncle?"

Iroh had again told Zuko that his destiny was his for the choosing.

Seconds later, Azula and the Dai Li agents had burst into the room, pinning his uncle down with crystals.

Azula's disdain for Uncle Iroh and her cruel demeanor towards Zuko's banishment had made Zuko's mind reel.

Azula always lies.

He hadn't been sure he was making the right decision when he'd followed after his sibling.

He still wasn't sure when he'd fired a massive fireball in her direction.

But later, when Katara and Aang had followed him down the tunnel at the first mention of him wanting to free Iroh, his confidence in his decision grew.

He didn't know anyone so willing to help the innocent, with no regard to their own safety.

Not that Iroh was even close to innocent…

When Aang was able to free Iroh, he had smiled in relief.

That smile did not stick around for long though.

Azula had advanced after them, as he had figured and suddenly was in the same room. She screamed out in anger before sending a lighting strike the Avatar's way.

Iroh had pushed Aang out of the way, taking part of the strike intended for the Avatar.

Lightning had ripped through the Avatar's left shoulder, through Iroh's arm and into his right side. It sent both of them crumpling to the floor.

The sound that had left Zuko's mouth was unlike anything he'd uttered before. It could only be described as pure rage.

Zuko had turned and sent multiple fireballs at his sister, while Katara had bent a huge wave towards the Dai Li.

Somehow, after more fighting, Zuko was able to grab his uncle and get him out of the cave - and out of Ba Sing Se completely. They had left their new life behind. They left their new tea shop, their apartment, everything.

Zuko could only wonder if Katara was able to get the Avatar out. He had no clue if they were even alive, though rumors had been circulating that Azula had been victorious in killing the Avatar. However, there was rumors that she'd killed Iroh as well, yet Zuko knew those were false.

"Where are you going, anyway?" he asked after a few moments.

"Why, I am wanting to play some Pai Sho and drink some good tea," Iroh grinned. "I miss our time spent at the Jasmine Dragon."

His nephew groaned, staring up at the sky in annoyance.

"Uncle, we do not have enough money for you to drink all their tea- and we need to buy supplies!"

"Now now, my dear nephew, you ought to know there is always enough money - and time - for Pai Sho."

His uncle looked sweatier than he should have. Summer was approaching but it was not that hot outside.

Iroh paused for another brief moment outside a small cafe. Zuko peered inside and noticed a group of older men seated around the table inside. The familiar tiles laid on the table and he huffed.

Of course the first thing the old man would want to do is play Pai Sho.

"I will not be long," Iroh murmured, pushing a bag into Zuko's hands. "Go buy some supplies."

Zuko looked down at what he had pushed into his hands.

It was a small coin pouch. Zuko gawked at it.

Where had he gotten this?

By the time he looked back up, Iroh had already seated himself at the table, smiling mischievously at the other men.

He grumbled, shaking his head again before going to shop for supplies.

Zuko had purchased a few bags of rice and a water skin. He assumed Azula would have troops nearly everywhere, even a week later, searching for him and his uncle.

He heard people murmuring and he glanced over, seeing two soldiers in Fire Nation red come strolling through the market. Zuko looked down, letting his long dark hair fall in his face.

"Thank you," he mumbled to the vendor before skirting down the small alley beside the shop.

The two soldiers clearly weren't on duty- their helmets tucked beneath their arms and they walked side by side, deep in conversation.

"That couldn't have been a spirit!" Zuko heard one say.

He lingered in the alley, interested in the first part of the conversation he'd heard.

"That's what I thought! But my cousin says he knew what he saw, and it sure wasn't human! It floated, he said! Who do you know that can float, especially over water?"

"That's ridiculous." The same voice he heard scoffed, clearly still skeptical.

Zuko frowned, curious.

"I know how it sounds! But the entire village seems to believe she's back!"

"Oh, so now it's a she, not an it?"

Coins hit the counter with a slight clink. "Just a bag of rice."

Zuko, keeping his stride relaxed and gaze down, began to walk back towards the front of the alley.

"It's the spirit of the Painted Lady, or that's what they say they saw."

"The Painted Lady?" He repeated, still sounding incredulous. "That spirit that they say protects the Jang Hui river? My grandpappy hasn't even seen her since he was a kid."

The soldiers dragged the bag of rice off the counter, nodding at the man.

"I don't know man, the village used to be in ruins, based on what my cousin says. Now the supplies just magically reappear in their village, and their sick are healed. General Mung is pissed."

He scowled at the mention of the supplies and the angry general, remembering his presence in the meeting when he was a child.

Surely the General would retaliate, regardless of it being inside Fire Nation territory.

The soldiers continued on, passing by the alley Zuko was in without even a glance.

Zuko slipped out of the alley, walking back towards the bay where the ships docked.

Knowing his uncle, he would still be playing Pai Sho. He didn't want to wander without purpose, but he also really didn't want to sit there with a bunch of wrinkly old men and listen to them talk and sip tea.

Looking around, he took in the large ships docked at the shoreline.

Four ships, varying in size, were docked at the area closest to the market. Each ship appeared empty and Zuko wondered for a brief moment where the crew was.

The fourth ship was docked further down the line, off by itself. It was a large ship crafted out of a dark wood and it reminded him of the pirate's ship from the year before.

He thought back to how different life was back then.

Fueled by anger and resentment, his fire bending was weak and his attitude was constantly soured by his feelings.

Now, Iroh had spent time training him and he'd spent a good deal of time practicing his katas.

Azula still had bested him the last time they fought, and that thought alone sent frustration through him.

Of course the memory of his last time there made him think of his quest for the Avatar.

Had he abandoned that quest? Was it really even his quest in the first place?

He frowned, thinking of the battle he'd shared with the Avatar and Katara.

Had they been able to escape?

Zuko walked further down the dock aimlessly. He came to pause at a small bench, noticing posters plastered on the dividing wall behind it.

Among the outdated photos of the Avatar and his friends was an equally outdated photo of himself, beneath a younger looking Iroh. Young Zuko glared at him from the poster, still donning his top knot and bad attitude. They had painted his scar a crimson color barely lighter then that of his shirt.

He resisted the urge to brush his fingertips against his cheek.

Was it really that dark?

It had been a few months since Zuko had even bothered to look at himself in the reflection of the water. Once the injury had happened, he made a point to not look at himself - not even in the reflection of his broadswords.

Sharp white and blue lines peeked out from behind the corner of his own wanted poster.

Zuko moved the corner of his own poster aside, staring at the Blue Spirit mask.

The familiar face seemed to stare right back at him, as if challenging him.

His pack weighed even more all of a sudden.

Buried beneath layers of clothing and supplies was that same mask.

I should have gotten rid of that stupid mask after Iroh and I got away…

What is my purpose now? he wondered.

If he had really decided to abandon his quest for the Avatar, what would he spend his life doing?

He pulled the wanted flyer off the board, crumpling it in his hand.

Zuko glanced around warily before shoving it into his bag.

Deciding his uncle had played enough, he turned to head back towards the small cafe.

Iroh glanced up from the Pai Sho table, not at all surprised to see his nephew sulking outside, leaning against a barrel.

"The white lotus opens wide to those who know her secrets," Iroh had murmured long before Zuko had returned.

"You'll have to excuse my nephew," Iroh said, loud enough for Zuko to hear. "He does not yet appreciate the small things in life such as good company and good tea."

The young man in question shot him a glare.

"Or a rather enjoyable game of Pai Sho." Iroh continued, grinning.

His nephew watched as he reached forward and picked up a Pai Sho tile from the middle of the board, slipping it into his sleeve.

Zuko growled from where he stood outside, resisting the urge to go inside and demand that they leave. He was slowly getting more hungry and his feet were starting to hurt.

"Well," the elder man stood up. "Thank you for the game and the information, gentlemen."

A mysterious twinkle shone in Iroh's eyes, bowing briefly before exiting the cafe.

"Finally!" He said in exasperation, scooping up the their bags. "Are we done?"

Iroh chuckled, wincing at the vibration. "Yes, we are finished for the night."

Zuko grumbled, tromping ahead.

Almost twenty minutes later, they made it back to the small abandoned cabin they'd been squatting in.

The days following Azula's attack on Ba Sing Se were some of the most harrowing days Zuko had experienced, even worse then the time she had attacked Iroh before.

Zuko chuckled dryly at that thought.

His own sister had attacked their uncle more than once…surprise, surprise.

He had barely managed to find a place to hide inside the city that first night.

The next morning, Zuko was able to stabilize and hide Iroh long enough for him to don his Blue Spirit mask and creep back into Ba Sing Se's Upper Rings to get their money.

On the end of the second night, Zuko was able to get Iroh conscious enough to half climb, half be pushed onto the back of the ostrich horse Zuko had stolen.

Then, under the cover of night, Zuko had somehow managed to escape in between patrols of the Dai Li.

It was too easy, he'd thought, but that was something he wasn't going to worry about then, and definitely not now.

After they'd escaped to their nearest port outside of Ba Sing Se; Zuko found that with enough money, a merchant could be persuaded to allow them to stowaway in the hull of their ship.

When Zuko was given the all clear, he learned they sailed through the Serpent's Pass and eventually ended up in the cabin.

Being this close to Fire Nation territory wasn't ideal, Zuko would admit, but it wasn't something he had much choice in.

It's not like Azula would expect them to go towards the nation that would most likely be hunting them down for their "treason".

Zuko stoked the small fire, pulling himself out of his thoughts.

They never seemed to lead anywhere important, so he had taken to keeping himself busy.

"Unnnnghhhh."

"Uncle?" Zuko frowned, glancing at the lump under the blankets across the room.

The last couple days, Iroh had shown the most progress on his journey back to full health.

Or so Zuko had thought.

Iroh didn't respond at his name being called, so Zuko anxiously got to his feet, striding over to him.

"Uncle," he repeated, pulling the covers back.

Iroh's face was contorted in pain, sweat pouring down the sides of his forehead.

Cursing under his breath, he walked over to the fire to put on a pot of tea. He knew his uncle would over do it at the market.

Stubborn old man.

Iroh's wounds after the attack hadn't been looked at by a doctor, as Zuko was too paranoid to visit anyone in the radius of Ba Sing Se.

Instead, when they were in the belly of the ship crossing the Serpent's Pass, he'd begrudgingly taken up an older lady on her offer to tend to Iroh.

She'd said his wounds weren't particularly fatal, but at his old age it would be a rather complicated process for his body to heal itself back to normal.

Azula's lightening had left a nasty, raw sore on the top of Iroh's forearm where it had entered his body.

The woman had said that the mass amounts of energy Iroh had taken it had disrupted his chi and shocked his immune system.

I fear only a skilled healer would be able to restore your uncle back to full health...

Her voice echoed in his mind and the moments spent with Katara beneath Ba Sing Se came back to the surface.

But how could he find one in time?

Katara was out of the question, he decided. Even if he could find her, he doubted she would want to help them.

The young man paced back and forth as he waited for the teapot to come to a boil.

Suddenly, the conversation the two soldiers had earlier that day popped up.

What if this spirit was real? What if she could help them?

At that thought, the teapot whistled as if on cue.

Zuko did his best to brew his uncle a cup of green tea, his hands shaking slightly as he poured it into the chipped cup.

He shook his uncle out of his feverish slumber.

"Here," he said, helping him sit up.

After Iroh had groggily propped himself up, Zuko pushed the warm cup of tea into his hand.

"Drink this."

Iroh took a small sip of the piping hot tea. "Very...bracing... my dear nephew, thank...thank you."

Zuko sat back on his heels, giving Iroh some space.

"Uncle. You aren't getting better. We have to get you to a healer."

Iroh laughed lightly, coughing. When he pulled his hand away, his eyes widened.

Bright crimson stained his palm.

"I believe you are right, Zuko."

"I think we should go to the Jang Hui river. There has been reports of the Painted Lady returning." Zuko said eagerly. "Maybe I can help her in exchange for her healing you."

Iroh took another sip, studying his nephew's determined expression.

The young man's smooth side of his face was lit up by the firelight, the scar he wore almost hidden by the shadows.

"Ah," he murmured. "The Painted Lady has not been seen for some time, I'm afraid."

"But, uncle!" Zuko started. "Two soldiers mentioned that she was back! And a general knows it too!"

The man's weathered face peered into his nephew's large amber eyes. He hadn't seen such determination that hadn't been backed by rage in Zuko in a very long time.

Iroh felt his world swim around him, pain shooting through his arm into his shoulder. The man lowered his body back into a laying position.

Zuko tried to not panic as Iroh's face grew paler, sliding himself back down into a laid down position.

Iroh pulled something out of his sleeve, barely managing to press it into Zuko's palm before he succumbed to sleep once more.

Zuko stared down at the small tile in his palm, turning it over.

It was a Pai Sho tile...the white lotus.

He recalled his uncle's last search for the same Pai Sho tile many months before.

Zuko knew his uncle was an intelligent and calculating man; always saying something that would provoke him to think deeper on the subject. That intelligence stretched farther than words, often times using that intelligence to fuel carefully planned actions, much like his games of Pai Sho.

After staring at the lotus tile for another long moment, the young man got to his feet, anger washing over him.

"How am I supposed to know what to do with this?" He yelled to the cabin. "Why do you think I know what this means?"

Frustration overtook his mind and he picked up the now cooled pot of tea and angrily threw it against the wall. Hot water burst out on contact and trickled down the wood.