Ok, I'm releasing an author's note soon about this but so far... you guys are in luck! Since I have ideas for this and it seems to be going somewhere, I am shutting down my other fics for this one and my one shot indulgences when I have writer's block. Which has been quite often lately.
Anyway, for anyone wondering, I am not dead. Yes, this was a sooner update that I was expecting because I actually have most of this story planned out for once rather than simply writing off the top of my head. Hopefully that will let me write quicker and easier than it has been recently. As to why the updates are so slow, for those of you who don't understand the British system, I am taking the last set of exams this year that will give me grades as to where I am going to uni. And yes, I am very busy, especially with mocks in three weeks. However, I feel bad just leaving these ideas to rust for so long so initially, updates may be slow as I am going through all my stories and writing up plans for them (mainly because, like this one, they are in the early stages). Since this one is pretty much mapped out, hopefully there will be a lower chance of me putting this on hiatus while I go away and rethink my life.
Another reason as to why I haven't updated recently though: I have been rather ill recently. Not only did one parent give me and cold, but the other felt the need to add a head cold on top of that, so I am busy catching up on the week of school I missed because of that. So yeah, not really been writing.
So while a lot of that wasn't really relevant to the story, I thought I would give you fair warning a to why the updates don't come as fast as you would like. I am sorry for that but it can't be helped. I am doing the best I can. All I can say is thank you to everyone who has been so patient in waiting for updates and I hope to get back to you soon with chapter 3!
Please enjoy reading the chapter!
Zuko woke up feeling cold. He couldn't remember getting back on the ship, or even into his bed. Except the room smelt like spices and jasmine tea so it clearly wasn't his room. Uncle he thought, but either it was too dark in the room for him to see or he still had his eyes closed. Everything felt heavy, awkward. He tried thinking back, trying to remember how he had gotten here. But all he could remember was arguing with the spirit and then listening to it apologize… drowning but then expelling liquid from his lungs in horrific gasps and pulls until there was nothing left and he was coughing down a dry throat… and then nothing.
Clearly, he had been rescued from whatever solid mass he had landed on –created- by his crew and had been holed up in Uncle's room like he was sick. Uncle wouldn't ever force him to stay here though, so he couldn't have woken up yet and he wasn't even sure if he was awake and not just hovering between sleep. I need to get up. I have to know where the Avatar is. I need to regain my honour…
"You need to regain nothing but your rest."
"You got me into this situation," Zuko muttered to the spirit, tensing as someone placed a gentle hand upon his brow.
"You're burning up Prince Zuko." Iroh sounded tired and scared. It panicked Zuko, hearing his uncle sound like that. Not once, not ever had the man sounded scared in Zuko's presence. This couldn't be happening.
I'm here Uncle! I'm fine! He wanted to say but everything was so heavy and he was so tired…
"Rest Prince Zuko. You have deserved it." Perhaps the spirit was right… he wouldn't sleep for too long…
Uncle was not there when some semblance of consciousness returned. There was however, a cold rag sitting on his forehead for which Zuko was glad because now he was burning. Why am I so hot? Last I awoke I was freezing… Where is Uncle? He hadn't been moved. The room still smelled like spices and tea. Zuko secretly loved the smell because it meant Uncle and fun and being loved… a feeling that he hadn't felt since Mom had disappeared.
An image of her rose up unbidden in his mind as she had looked on the day they had heard news of Lu Ten's death. Sad, tears gracing soft cheeks as she reached out a hand to wipe away Zuko's own tears as he cried into his pillow, sobbing about all those broken promises Lu Ten would never be able to keep… "I promise you cousin, I will return no matter what." You lied Lu Ten! You never came home!
"Zuko?" Uncle had returned. It seemed the spirit was silent now, quiet while Zuko was lost in such painful memories. And his uncle's voice… soft and questioning, a hand holding his own as Zuko slumbered, worried that his nephew would never wake up…
I'm fine Uncle, I'm with you Zuko wanted so desperately to say but darkness was closing in on him and so were other dreams, other nightmares. "Dad's going to kill you! Really, he is… Really, ZuZu, you don't expect to win this fight do you?"
Zuko forced his eyes open, if only to get away from that voice, those eyes, promising pain because she could, because Mom wasn't there and Dad had changed to reveal a monster beneath the loose mask. Perhaps Ozai had always been like that, perhaps Zuko just didn't want to see… but he was the only family Zuko had left and he had tried so hard… surely he would let him come home now that he had a heading on the Avatar? Surely he would be welcomed back once the Avatar was chained and kept captive?
He was still too hot. The room felt stifling and all Zuko wanted to do was open the window, let some air in. But healers believed that if you opened a window into a sick room you would allow evil spirits in. Zuko didn't care about evil spirits at the moment, only that he could breathe cool air. Uncle was now asleep in the chair next to him but Zuko was too exhausted to move. His body felt weighted down and any effort to even so much as sit up by himself drained whatever energy he had left. Something caught his eyes, dark and curling on the back of his hands but he was more focused on gaining Uncle's attention.
"Un…Uncle?" Zuko croaked, throat so dry it felt like he was running knives over his voice box, not air. Iroh stirred but did not wake. So he tried again, a little louder. "Uncle!" This time Iroh did wake, blinking sleep from his eyes, surprise and happiness lighting his face when he saw that Zuko was awake.
"Zuko, you have returned to the conscious world!" he cried, flinging his arms around his nephew and clinging to him as if he would never let go. Normally Zuko resented this behaviour but the few times he had woken before he had heard his uncle's fear. Something had happened to make Iroh fear he was about to lose his surrogate son, something that Zuko couldn't comprehend. "Don't ever do that to me again!" he whispered into Zuko's shoulder as his nephew managed to move heavy limbs to return the hug.
"How long?" Zuko whispered, wincing at his throat. It was sore, very sore but what did he expect with the force behind each retch to get salty water out of his lungs? He was half surprised he still had a throat in which to talk with.
"Nearly a week. You are still running a fever but it has reduced some," Uncle said, pulling away but not letting go. He propped Zuko up on cushions and reached to the table beside him for a tankard containing water (probably the biggest drinking vessel he could find on the ship that wasn't a teacup). Zuko would have gulped it down if Iroh hadn't forced him to drink it in sips. "You will make yourself sick, my nephew. Drink slower." Without much choice, Zuko followed Iroh's advice, content for now just to lie here.
"And the Avatar?" Iroh's face twisted into a grimace. You know he doesn't approve of this quest. You knew when you started this voyage, just as you know it now. Of course he's not going to take it favourably.
"Gone. He and his friends rode away on his bison." I know what you're up to old man. You're not going to tell me which way they went or where you think they're going because you want me to give up. To not think about this right now and just get better.
"You should listen to your uncle more often."
"You butt out of this," Zuko growled at the spirit which had made its delightful return. But he didn't mention any of this to his uncle. The retired General deserved a proper retirement, not following Zuko around and cleaning up his messes. Another reason to aim for home. But right now, none of that mattered since he only had a vague idea as to where the air-bender had disappeared off to, although he could probably make a very good guess. However, there was another, more pressing issue, to deal with at the moment.
"Uncle… did anyone…?" Zuko swallowed past the lump rising in his sore throat, hoping against hope that no one had seen his desperate fight with the spirit and the bending that had occurred after. Iroh seemed to know instinctively what Zuko meant and shook his head.
"Your secret is safe nephew. At least for now. I convinced the men it was lucky you had the strength to pull yourself onto that iceberg that was so luckily nearby." Zuko sighed with relief, overwhelming exhaustion smothering him again. His mind briefly wandered back to the curling marks on his hands but he closed that thought off for now. It could wait, he was too tired and his eyes felt so heavy again. Iroh stroked his head, a gesture which would have annoyed Zuko if he had been awake enough to realise what was happening but instead, his subconscious mind leant into it and Iroh vowed he would never tell his nephew just how young he looked when he did that… "Sleep, Prince Zuko. Everything will be fine."
Aang almost forgot about his misadventure with the Fire Nation boy as they flew further and further away from his boat. He was fairly certain it was his boat since he ordered men double his age around like it was nothing. Probably a noble or something, bound to complete a challenge set by the Fire Lord. Which probably meant that the likelihood of the pair becoming friends was slim to none.
Aang was sad about that. The boy could have been a good friend if not for the fact that he seemed hell bent on making Aang's life difficult but part of him still hoped that he would be ok. Kuzon had told him long ago that the Fire Nation rarely ventured into the poles due to the fact that ice could kill if a fire-bender spent too long within it. Hopefully, since he had managed to save himself from drowning, the boy would be ok (Aang really needed to find out his name. Perhaps they could find someone in the nearest town who might be able to help them?).
Katara and Sokka didn't seem as bothered about the fate of the fire-benders; in fact Sokka seemed to disregard it as unimportant. Then again, he also seemed to think that they deserved to be forever left in ice and Aang had no idea what to say to that being a pacifist. Thankfully, he wasn't given much time to think about it since the pair was fascinated with his tales about the Southern Air Temple and all the people they were going to meet.
"What's it like living so high? And mountains? What are they like?" It struck Aang that the pair had rarely been anywhere that could constitute 'away from home' which was strange to him, considering air-benders typically didn't have homes. The temples were where the children and Elders stayed to learn and teach respectively, and once one had earned their master's arrows they would be sent off into the world to spread the word of peace. That was their job, their part of this world and the fact that they had stopped doing that disturbed Aang. Sure, there was a war on but that had never stopped the air-benders in the past. He didn't even pause to think about that though. He decided to concentrate on Katara and how her hair looked in the wind.
"Well, it's nothing like the South Pole. There's greenery and the mountains are so high it's like living on a cloud!" Katara was wide-eyed at this, enraptured with everything he said. Sokka was pretending not to be interested, while really paying very close attention. Which was a little creepy. He had never seen someone watch a person like that before except when hunting. It was a kind of back off; you're not good enough look but Aang couldn't figure out why. Maybe Sokka didn't like him? But he had acted nice enough until now, barring that moment when he had banished Aang from the village. Except Sokka had helped him to escape from that Fire Nation ship… which just left him thinking about that boy again. Shaking his head, Aang returned his attention to their direction and grinned as he saw the high rise of the mountain, upon which was his home.
"We're nearly here guys! The Southern Air Temple!" Katara immediately swung around to catch a glimpse, gasping as it came into view. It looked just the same as Aang had left it, if devoid of gliders and air-benders. Well, they would be inside he was sure of it. The Temple had the same cream walls, the same green terraced roof. Aang loved how the Temple looked from the air, balanced on top of a mountain, graceful as an air-bender on their gliders. It had been built with freedom in mind and to Aang it was home. He smiled. Soon, soon the world would be right again.
It took nearly a week for Zuko to recover; ordering their course first from his uncle's bed, then from his own as soon as the ship's physician (also known as anyone who was on hand at the time who had enough battlefront first aid to help) had agreed he was healthy enough to be moved. Iroh wasn't happy about this, insisting that Zuko stay in bed here and focus on getting better rather than moving to his own room and aggravating the fever further. But Zuko couldn't stay in his uncle's room without feeling the need to spill everything to him and he knew he couldn't do that. And it became harder to act like there wasn't a voice in his head commenting on everything he did.
Eventually, Zuko got bored of being stuck in bed and snuck out, careful to only wear black and wary of anyone coming and going from the ship. Then again, it was the middle of the night and there was only the ghost watch which was practically incompetent anyway. There were two soldiers off to the side playing some kind of dice game and a third leaning over the rail and spewing however much alcohol he had consumed in the pub earlier over the side. Zuko rolled his eyes. Turk was a colonist and an army reject, thrown out of training for rowdy behaviour, brought on by drinking. It wasn't a surprise the man was drunk as anything. Give him another half an hour and he would be back in the pub.
Slipping past the three soldiers was easy. Finding a secluded part of the docks without being seen was harder. This was one of the few Fire Nation ports that allowed a combination of shore leave and on-duty shifts all at once. It didn't help that it was also run by Commander Zhao, one of many court politicians and soldiers that Zuko despised. He had met Zhao only once in the past, when he had practically been begging like a dog to his father to be put in some kind, or any kind, of control in the army. Clearly, after that dreaded Agni Kai (and Zuko was sure that the man had been sitting behind Uncle, grinning like a maniac and laughing inside at his misfortune) his father had agreed. And stuck him in the marines. That was almost a small victory since the marines was where all the army rejects went, although Zuko had the lowest of the low. Not that that meant too much here.
The docks were busy, even in the middle of the night, workers loading several large warships with supplies. He could also see the lot working on the repairs on his own ship and stayed perched on the roof of the watchtower a few moments longer to make sure they were doing it right. He wouldn't put it past Zhao to get some of his men to sabotage his ship, although Zhao would be in for a shock if he did try. One of Piandao's lessons (before his father had become Fire Lord and Zuko had been banned from setting foot anywhere outside the capital without an escort) had been of a rather unconventional nature (but after mastering dao, that wasn't hard). He had taught Zuko how to take a glance at a blueprint, take in information quickly and memorise it to make sure that he would know what the end product would look like and have some idea of where all the parts went. "Knowing how a thing is put together ensures that you are never cheated or sabotaged by your manufacturer."
Zuko had spent hours poring over the little supply ship's blueprints in bed after the Agni Kai. Admittedly compensating with one eye, but now he knew exactly how the ship worked, how it could be put back together and how to do minor repairs whilst at sea so the old thing could reach the nearest port (and hadn't that given the soldiers a shock the first time they had broken down in the middle of nowhere).
Nodding his head slightly that Zhao wasn't attempting anything potentially dangerous to his ship and crew, Zuko moved on, searching for that perfect secluded spot where he could practice. He could feel the spirit's disapproval but they both knew that it was necessary. Light fire-bending wouldn't cut it anymore and if one denied their bending for too long it sent them crazy. Zuko could feel the other elements screaming to be released and he so desperately wanted that feeling of pushing air from his fingers, drawing water from the sea, pulverising rocks between his fingers. Of course, fire was Zuko's favourite element but the others were still a part of him.
"There," the spirit murmured, directing Zuko's gaze to a quiet cove just outside the port. He was currently standing on the roof of the guardhouse, having jumped, climbed and generally run over the rooftops of the small port. The cove that he could see would be perfect. Walled in on three sides by thick forest, accessible only by someone who could jump from branch to branch of the trees, the underbrush being too thick for anything else, and the last being a natural harbour, tall cliffs rising in almost a complete circle. In fact, there was only a few metres opening, wide enough for Zuko's ancient little ship to pass through but definitely not big enough for anything bigger, ruling it out as an explored area (plus the fact that the forest was yet to be hacked away by idiotic benders aiming to anger the spirits more). Perfect for what Zuko had planned.
"Be careful Prince Zuko. You are still weak from the spirit-state you were in earlier."
"Oh, so that's what that was," Zuko muttered, not caring that if anyone was around, they would think he was talking to himself. "I was wondering about that."
"I did say I was sorry," the spirit said, sounding irritated. Zuko rolled his eyes. You got me into that mess in the first place. If you would just let me meditate without any fire images…! "That is not by my interference. The lady of the flame favours you in her own way."
"Now you're just messing with me." If Zuko could see the spirit, he was fairly sure it would have an eyebrow raised. "Agni favours Azula. Azula's the prodigy, the strategic genius. Me? I'm the spare, unfortunately born first. Get it?"
"You are more than a spare heir."
"I wasn't even supposed to be the heir," Zuko muttered bitterly, throat clogging up. He lied, he lied to me, he said he would come back… Being eleven and suddenly thrust into a role he wasn't ready for, and never been prepared for was terrifying.
"Peace, young one. Practice your bending, forget the past for now. It cannot hurt you here." And this was why Zuko tolerated the spirit to a point. It never offered him tea or a smirk promising pain or a curled fist covered in fire to hurt him. It only ever offered a kind of comfort, a guiding hand in the dark. And so Zuko followed the spirit's advice, falling into a bending stance and throwing himself into the forms to distract from the pain. From his nightmares. And as each kata followed another, Zuko felt himself become calmer and calmer, the bending more effective than any meditation that he had ever sat through.
He started with air, working through the Avatar cycle that he just knew and for this moment he didn't care. Air whistled through the trees, snatching leaves from the braches and swirling them over his head. Zuko tried to imagine Junsuina here with him, as free as he was in this moment, dancing through the wind like she had done all that time ago. Painful thoughts. Move on. Let go. He let the wind go; blasting it over the water and then drawing water back, playing with it. Water had been hard but after figuring out that water wanted to play, wanted to move and flow, it had gotten easier. Fire was offense and defence all at the same time, a lot like water. The tide was currently out at the moment and Zuko stood in the centre of the beach, drawing a globe of water from the waves at least twenty metres away. That was hard and Zuko gritted his teeth. He was tired but this was also the best he had felt in so long and he didn't want to let it go just yet. And so he kneaded the water between his fingers a moment to catch his breath before bending it around him in a dance so familiar and yet foreign. This move wasn't one that the spirit had taught him but it was one that he had made up, determined that if you could bend a fire dragon around you, then you could do the same for water. And he did now, a small dragon formed of water dancing around him, as joyful and spirited as Junsuina. And that hurt, it hurt so much that Zuko couldn't hold it any longer, dropping the water into the sand beneath his feet.
"Not much longer Prince Zuko. Your chi is already drained. Do not use it all up again so soon." Zuko nodded silently. Only earth left anyway. Fire could wait until the morning, when he was rested and not accosted with memories of everything he had lost. Well, not quite everything… He shook the thoughts away, falling into a simple horse stance. He wasn't planning on doing anything too strenuous. A simple stamp and punch forward, shoving earth away from him and out to sea. Admittedly very obvious work of an earth-bender but no one would trace it back to him. He was known as a fire-bender not the Avatar. However, Zuko had misjudged how much force he had put behind the move and the bent earth moved further and faster than he anticipated, hitting the cliffs and causing a loud a jarring thud. Zuko's breath caught in his throat, eyes wide, realising that he may have given himself away. The cliff shuddered but held. The port, however, came alive.
Have to return to the ship, have to return to bed. Zuko didn't remember fleeing the cove. He didn't remember dashing over the rooftops of the port, slipping past the ghost watch and changing in record time before throwing himself under the covers, seconds before a soldier knocked on his door. Zuko stayed quiet, keeping his breath even. The soldier opened the door, surprised to find the prince sound asleep. He was known after all to be a light sleeper.
There was something different about the temple but Aang couldn't put his finger on it. It was quiet, even more so than normal but Aang was so happy that he was home, he chose to ignore the dread rising in the back of his mind. Admittedly the temple was dirtier than Aang remembered it and there was a new statute of Gyatso outside the temple, but he chose to ignore this. Air-benders had a habit of going to ground when there was danger about and this time was no different. He was sure that they were all inside somewhere, watching them to make sure that they were not the enemy.
And then there were the air ball courts. They still looked to be in immaculate condition. And if they were being looked after then so was everything else. Although there was a suspicious absence of bison and lemurs.
Aang managed to convince Sokka to play with him, happy that he could share all of this with them. Sokka cheered up a bit, stopping staring at him like he had just pulled a nasty prank and didn't want to be fooled twice. In fact, he even got into the spirit of the game, although Aang felt a bit guilty that the other boy had little chance of winning the game with no bending, but Sokka didn't seem to care. Even when Aang accidently blasted him off the court entirely.
The pair was muttering something when Aang caught up with them. He couldn't quiet catch what they were saying and Sokka seemed to be attempting to cover something up. Aang internally frowned. They had been doing this all day, awed at the beauty of the temple but cautious around him. Afraid of something or the other.
"What's up guys?" Aang asked, cheery as always but still slightly concerned. What was going on?
"Nothing," Katara said breezily. "Why don't you show us the rest of the Temple?" She smiled sweetly at him and Aang decided that everything had to be ok. If it wasn't, then why was Katara so happy?
"Come on! There's something I want to show you!"
Coming here was a really bad idea. At first, Sokka had thought that the Temple might not hold any clues as to what had happened. The place was deserted sure, but there wasn't any evidence that people had died here. That the Fire Nation had been anywhere near this place. And then Aang had flung him off the air-ball court and right on top of a Fire Nation helmet. Old as it was, there was only one nation on the earth that had the colours of red and black. They had been here all right, but they couldn't have gone inside the Temple. Hopefully.
Aang was still bouncing around, happy as ever. Sokka's stomach growled, reminding him they were low on food. We need to get to a town and resupply. Not run around a deserted Temple where Aang could find the bones of his people. Not that they had come across any Air Nomad bones. Yet.
"Where are we going?" Katara called out, keeping slightly ahead to keep up with Aang.
"The Inner Sanctuary! Monk Gyatso told me that one day when I was older I would be taken there to meet with someone very important." Sokka blinked, momentarily confused. Aang had to know that it had been a hundred years, they'd told him that already. He had to know then, that the person in the Inner Sanctuary was as dead as the rest of the people here by default, but most likely killed by the Fire Nation. At least they hadn't found any bodies yet, which was odd. Either the monks had all been outside that day or someone had been up here already and moved them, a disturbing thought in itself. Who would climb all the way to the top of a mountain only to bury dead monks and soldiers?
They were now making their way down a long corridor, decorated with the now familiar spirals of the Air Nomads. The colours were different from what Sokka had been expecting; blues and greens and creams, far more colourful than anything he had ever seen before. There was grass as well and stone walls. He had never seen that before, only ever heard of them. Ahead of them now were a pair of great oaken doors, sealed shut with a complicated network of pipes. Two ends of the pipes opened outwards like the ends of a war-horn and fitted into the doors were what looked like large sea spider-snails shells, three in total. Two on each side and one in the middle. Aang stopped in front of them, turning to look back with a grin.
"This is it!" he said, barely concealed excitement in his voice. Katara was frowning, clearly having thought through the impossibility of this as him, or perhaps just confused as to how to get in. After all there was no lock or handle on the door, only the complicated pipe and shell construction. Air-bender tricks, oh joy.
"But how do you get in?" Katara asked, confirming Sokka's suspicions. "There are no handles, no locks for a key!" Aang grinned like it was some kind of big secret.
"The key," he said, as if this was to be a great secret "is airbending."
"Well, whoever it is in there had better have some food," Sokka stated as his stomach growled again. "I'm starving."
"Sokka!" Katara snapped. "Can't you think of something other than your stomach for once?"
"Hey!" Sokka protested as he and Katara backed away from the doors and Aang took his stance. "I'm a growing man. I need my food." Katara sniffed huffily but turned her attention back to Aang and Sokka was reminded about the kid's exceedingly obvious crush on his sister. It also reminded him that there were now a whole range of guys who could quite potentially come after Katara who was, admittedly, very pretty. And while he also knew that she could protect herself, Sokka was all the more protective of her for it. Which only reminded him of the past two failures so far, once in the village against the teenage fire-bender (and if they never saw him again, it would be a relief. That scar was terrifying) and then again just now. While Aang wasn't trying to hurt him, he was useless against benders. He couldn't retaliate, only surprise them every now and then with Boomerang.
A blast of air distracted Sokka from his thoughts and he watched in amazement as the air Aang was blasting into the tubes forced the shells around, dropping pipes into place and moving the lock (now that he could see that it was a lock) into an unlocked position. Once the third and final shell had been twisted around, there was a loud click and the doors opened silently, as if they had been oiled recently. Inside was nothing but darkness and a sense of foreboding crept down Sokka's spine as Aang started forward.
"Aang wait. We don't know what's in there!" he cried as the other boy continued forwards as if there was nothing suspicious about a darkened, musty room. He and Katara exchanged glances, in agreement for once, and rushed after him. If there were any renegade, hidden Fire Nation traps in here, the last thing wanted was an unwary and naïve Avatar to walk straight into them. However as they moved forwards, the darkness began to recede and forms began to take shape. At first, Sokka thought the room was full of people and his brain went into overdrive, his hand creeping towards his machete. But then he realised that they were all eerily still and they eventually took shape as statues. Hundreds of thousands of statues, twisting round in an everlasting circle, rising up high in to the roof and away, beyond where their sight could reach. Aang had stopped in front of the last statue, an aged man dressed in Fire Nation robes with along beard and top-knot typical of a Fire Nation noble.
"That's Avatar Roku," Aang said quietly. "The Avatar before me." Sokka blinked at the strange, almost hypnotic way the younger boy had spoken in. It was as if he were in some kind of trance. Katara was glancing down at the plinth the statue was standing on, frowning. Sokka noted that it was plain and Katara voiced what he was thinking.
"How do you that? There's no inscription." Aang shrugged.
"I just do." Katara was looking around, taking note of what the statues were wearing and the order they were in.
"There's a pattern," she mused out loud, beginning to point at the nearest statues. "Air, Water, Earth and Fire. This must be the Avatar cycle!" Sokka raised his eyebrows at that. "These must be all your past lives."
"Wow," Aang murmured, his eyes rising as he took in the spiral around the wall, holding more and more Avatars. Clearly it had been going on for a while. Sokka opened his mouth to say something, when there was a clank from behind them, the sound of metal striking the floor. His eyes widened and he grabbed Katara, pulling her behind the nearest statue.
"Get down! Fire Nation!" Aang jumped behind another statue and they watched as the unmistakable shadow of the soldier's honed helmet grew in the light filtering in through the door.
If there was someone in the world having a worse day than Zuko, he would gladly have swapped. First he had been stooped to asking Zhao for help, but now the man was just gloating. Zuko hadn't liked the man much before they pulled into the port but now he detested him. The man had no right to go snooping in Zuko's business but clearly the status of 'banished' meant that it was free for all as far as sensitive information went.
"So you captured the Avatar but he managed to get away," Zhao said silkily and Zuko cursed his uncle again for accepting the invitation to the tent. They could have left before now, could have been gone before he saw Zhao's stupid face but no. The call of ginseng tea was greater.
"I underestimated him," Zuko ground out, not stating that the Avatar was a child, that he wouldn't have entered the Avatar State if Zuko had been paying attention and not working out his anger on a twelve year old kid. "I won't make that mistake again."
"No," Zhao said, "You won't." Zuko tensed, knowing that Zhao was going to do something underhanded, something that wouldn't be approved of if Zuko had been anyone else. "The task of capturing the Avatar should not be left in the hands of an incompetent teenager. I will be leading the mission now. You and your… crew may leave in the morning." Anger sparked inside Zuko's brain and he ignored the spirit's warning. He would not let this happen to him! He would not be treated like this, like a child playing at being an adult! He was captain of his own ship, had been for three years! He was not a naïve imbecile with no idea of what he was doing!
"You can't do this to me!" Zuko shouted, rising to his feet with all intention of punching that smug smirk off Zhao's face and damn all the consequences. Three guards rose to grab him before he could get to Zhao and Zuko was dimly aware that they were struggling to hold him as it was. He was proud of that.
"And what are you going to do about it?" He was goading Zuko on and Zuko knew, before the words even left his mouth that he was just giving Zhao what he wanted. His uncle had half-risen out of his seat, as if somehow he would be able to stop what was about to happen.
"Agni Kai. Sunset." Zhao smirked as he met Zuko's furious and determined eyes. Zhao would have a surprise waiting for him on that field if he believed all the rumours of how incompetent he was in terms of fire-bending. At a nod from Zhao the guards let him go and the man disappeared out of the tent. Zuko waited for the inevitable reprimand from Iroh.
"Zuko, what are you doing? Do you not remember last time?" Iroh's voice was sad but Zuko didn't want to talk about it, no matter how much his uncle insisted.
"I will never forget," he said, his eyes fixed on the spot where Zhao had once been. Sometimes he wondered if it would have been better to have simply faked his death and lived the rest of his life as the Blue Spirit. It seemed an easier option than this.
Aang swallowed hard, watching as Sokka hefted his boomerang in his hand, waiting for the soldier to come into range. He didn't understand. This didn't happen in the Air Temples. And how had the soldier gotten up here anyway? The only way in or out was by bison. You had to fly to reach all the way up here. It was impossible for the Fire Nation to have reached them, let alone even heard that they were here. Mind you, in hindsight it was probably obvious that the first place an air acolyte would go was the nearest Temple. That way, they were guaranteed protection.
The shadow grew longer but now something seemed off about it. The horns on the helmet seemed too long, elongated in a way that Aang had never seen on Fire Nation helmets. In fact they looked a lot like…
"Lemur!" Aang shouted as he peeped around the statue. He was right there was still wildlife here! He heard Sokka, quick on his heels groan,
"Food." Aang wasn't sure exactly what happened in their race after the lemur. Sokka would push him one way, he would push him back until it escalated to Aang cheating and using an air scooter to streak past him, laughing. It was a game really, one to see who could reach the lemur first. He had played it lots of times with Bumi and Kuzon, except the other two had had bending as well and had used it to prevent Aang from cheating. Eventually the winged lemur flew into a pavilion that Aang had no memory of and Aang, without even thinking about it, followed the little critter in.
"It's ok," he said lightly, "I won't let Sokka eat you." He was met by silence. Nothing moved. The breath caught in Aang's throat as he took in his surroundings, staring at the bones and corpses of thousands of people. Fire Nation, Air Nomad… both had died, fighting and been buried here, in a mass tomb. It was as if someone had set to giving them a send-off, a proper Fire Nation burial but hadn't had the heart to set the tent on fire. Slowly he moved forwards but as he did something strange began to happen.
The world began to bleed away, the tent fading to a less grimy shade of purple and many of the corpses disappearing. There was a strange shuffling sound and the flaps of the tent were pulled back and two figures entered. Two very familiar figures, apart from the fact that they looked younger. Especially the boy. Instead of long dark locks, his hair had been shaved back, leaving only the phoenix tail left. A single bandage swept over the left half of his face and Aang really didn't want to see the wound that had caused the boy's scar. The look on his face, however, was not angry but horrified.
"I don't understand Uncle," the boy said, staring at the corpses in front of him. "Why kill all the nomads? They were a peaceful people. They didn't even have an army!" The old man raised an eyebrow.
"As true as that may be nephew, I am fairly certain that that is not what you were taught." The boy didn't even change his expression. He just looked at the floor instead. "Is there something you wish to tell me?"
"I didn't do anything wrong," he murmured, not looking up. "Junsuina and I… we were bored and we found a secret room that had ancient accounts in it of Fire Nation and Air Nomad trade agreements." There was long silence before he continued. "It just doesn't make sense… Sozin was supposed to be honourable. All of this was supposed to be honourable, a way to share our greatness with the world. But not like… not like this." He looked young and confused and lost as the old man laid one hand on his shoulder.
"I think it is time we returned to the ship. The Avatar is not here Zuko," he said quietly. The boy- apparently Zuko- shook his head.
"No. They deserve a burial, an offering, something," he insisted, his eyes bright with determination. The old man recoiled slightly, looking troubled.
"That is not the work of a prince, Zuko. Nor is it the work of a child."
"It doesn't matter. It's what needs to be done."
"You cannot light a pyre for them here Zuko. The air is too thin and the fire will not last long enough for them all to be honoured." The man looked concerned, as if he thought the task too much for his nephew. Zuko simply returned his gaze to the floor.
"They can't all stay littered around like the remains of Junsuina's meals either." With that the scene faded, leaving Aang almost numbly confused. His people were dead. Gone. And they had been honoured not by the people who had massacred them but by a boy, a prince, who had come looking for the Avatar and found only death instead. If only he hadn't run away… but what good would that do? He had run away and this was his entire fault for not fighting back, for taking everything lying down and running at the first sight of trouble.
Determined, he decided to continue through this tent, to honour his people the way they should. They should get at least that. But before he could even begin he raised his eyes to look at the last skeleton, the body of the last person alive in this tent before the Fire Nation departed. An air-bender, one of the Elders if the robes were anything to go by but what Aang noted above all of this was the pendent still attached around the skeleton's neck. It was one that Aang had seen a thousand times over the course of his life, one he remembered the monk placing around his neck once when he was very little.
"Remember Aang that the swirls represent the freedom of air and that freedom can only be attained through peaceful actions." Aang swallowed, only capable of taking a few steps forward. The world seemed to be closing in on him and reality came crashing down on him hard.
"No…" he murmured, unable to process everything at once. His culture was dead, his people were gone, his mentor… His mentor was lying cold, broken and alone before him, the last air-bender alive of the day the floors of the Temple ran red with blood. His body became racked with sobs and he barely heard Sokka enter the tent, barely heard the poor excuse of an apology. Because now he was angry. The Fire Nation would pay for this. They would all pay.
Zuko blinked, feeling dizzy all of a sudden. What was that? He thought, one hand on the side of the ship, the other clutching his head, waiting for it to pass.
Aang has found the burial you made for his people the spirit murmured, sounding for once very far away. Zuko didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
And I feel dizzy because…? There was no answer and Zuko gave up trying to get an answer and staggered to his room. Hopefully, whatever the kid was doing to make Zuko feel this way would stop before sunset. He only had an hour or two and he had only just managed to escape from Iroh to be alone for that time to meditate. Or at least, Zuko was going to try to meditate but if Agni, as the spirit had told him, offered more images of a blood-soaked future, he might just head down early.
Sighing, he shoved his door shut, locked it and stripped off his armour. He wouldn't need it for the Agni Kai since they were fought bare-chested and barefoot. Zuko wasn't sure why, whatever lesson that had covered that aspect of Fire Nation lore had slipped from his mind long ago. And it wasn't as if he would be forgetting Agni Kai rituals anytime soon. Not after last time.
Concentrate Zuko thought, shoving the memory back down again before it could raise its ugly head anymore. If all he was going to do was go for a trip down memory lane every time someone even mentioned the words 'Agni Kai' he might as well give up now. Zhao would be tough to beat, even with the element of surprise that Zuko had up his sleeve. That, and he would have to resist using any other element (say earth-bending and sending that stupid smirk spiralling into the dirt) to defeat that annoying General. But it would be nice to show his father that he wasn't completely useless (while also throwing Zhao out of his father's favour. After all if one couldn't defeat the so-called royal failure in a fire duel then you were considered obsolete and discarded. Zuko should know with the number of people who had mysteriously disappeared overnight.)
He quietly sat down, pinching the candles alight with his fingers and settled down to meditate. He needed this more than he could say. The meditation would help concentrate his chi far better than throwing someone across the deck would (although throwing Jee across the deck was very satisfying at times when the man decided to be difficult) but it only ever worked when things didn't go awry. Like now, as the dizzy feeling still persisted no matter that he was sitting down. He closed his eyes, attempting to push away the feeling, attempting to concentrate on nothing but his inner fire and the connection to the candles.
Breathe in… and out… in… The candles danced and for a moment the world hung in peace before something else began to encroach upon him.
Breathe in… he was angry, they were all dead!... out… Why was there a feeling of calm? He wasn't calm he was angry! Those bastards had murdered his people!... in… Someone was calling to him but it wasn't his name. Or was it? He wasn't sure, the world was blurring around him… out… He was staring at a darkened room with three burning candles and yet he was also at the Southern Air Temple within the burial tent gusting winds around him. There were two teens clinging desperately to the rubble as if they were about to fly off the mountain… in… Total grief and anger yet also this stupid annoying calm! Where was it coming from?!
Zuko frowned within his meditation, caught between one reality and another. The spirit was tugging at him, pulling him away. Your meditation must wait Prince Zuko. You are needed elsewhere it said and suddenly, Zuko was no longer sitting on the floor of his room but rather walking through an empty white landscape.
"Where am I?" he asked aloud but received no answer. Ahead he could hear the sound of someone crying and, in the distance, raised panicked voices but he couldn't make out what they were saying. Deciding that heading towards the sounds may get him answers he followed them until he came across none other than the little Avatar, the boy who would lead to his return home. Except right at the moment, he didn't resemble an Avatar at all, even less than the last time they had met before he had blasted Zuko over the side of the boat. He was kneeling on the floor, head in hands, sobbing as if he would never stop. And Zuko could probably hazard a guess as to why. After all, he too had cried like that twice before… Don't think of them. Concentrate on what is happening now.
"What are you doing?" Zuko cursed his ineptitude with people but it wasn't as if they were talking in real life. The Avatar paused in his crying and stared up at him in shock.
"W-What?" he stuttered, staring at him in a mixture of fear and confusion. "Where are we? What's going on?" Zuko scowled.
"If I knew, I wouldn't be wandering around lost." There was a moment of silence before Zuko repeated his question. "What are you doing?"
"Well, I was at the Southern Air Temple and we were playing Air Ball but Sokka lost and then we went to the Inner Sanctuary where we found a lemur and Sokka wanted to eat it but I wouldn't let him. Then the lemur led me to a tent that held Monk Gyatso's body and now I'm all a-alone." The boy had gulped back tears at the end of the last sentence and Zuko bit his lip wondering what to do. This boy had lost his people, he remembered that. He remembered the corpses on the mountain top and moving them all to the tent he had mentioned. It had been the best he could do for them, even against his Uncle's wishes for him to leave them at peace because they weren't at peace and somehow he had known that. Hopefully he hadn't noticed how mangled some of the corpses were and not all of them Air Nomad. He supposed they couldn't be peaceful all the time, not when they were all attacked at once.
"But what about those peasant friends of yours?" he asked, remembering the pair who had come to save him. The water-bending girl and the pathetic warrior who might have been skilled if he was properly trained. At the moment he was lucky because he had two benders with him, one being the Avatar, to hide behind. "Do they not count?"
The Avatar blinked up at him stupidly as if he was spouting nonsense and for a moment Zuko wondered if the kid knew what he was talking about. Air Nomad custom was that earthly attachments prohibited access to enlightenment, hence why they owned so little and were taken from their parents at such a young age and brought up in separate temples. The Avatar probably wouldn't have even known what a woman looked like without the weekly visits of the nuns when he was a child (well, he still was a child but that was irrelevant at this point in time). But then he started talking again.
"Sokka and Katara? But they're my friends not my family…" Considering this boy had little notion as to what a family was, Zuko would let that pass. He was so much luckier than he knew. He carefully knelt down in front of the boy and looked him in the eye.
"Family are the people who stick by you through thick and thin rather than just blood relations. I suppose Monk…" A moment to cast around for that monk's name before he carried on, "Gyatso was your first family after your mother and now these new friends of yours are your second. Don't take that for granted." He spoke the last words seriously so the message would go in otherwise this was pointless. The boy stared at him for a long time before wiping his eyes on his sleeve.
"Yeah, I guess your right…" he said quietly. Zuko nodded and straightened up, intending on walking away and leaving the boy there to get his act together and return to his body on his own. Personally, Zuko wasn't cut out for a role in the spirit world since the spirits always seemed to work against him rather than let him move forward on his own. Just as he began to walk off the way he had come (and hoping it would return him to his meditation before sundown and the Agni Kai. He would never live down being late) the boy called out to him again. "Why are you doing this?"
"What?" Zuko didn't turn around so the boy wouldn't be able to see the shock on his face. That would be a weakness and Zuko had learnt his lesson about showing weakness.
"Why are you helping me? The last time we met you tried to kill me." Zuko scowled and turned to face the boy, angry now.
"I never tried to kill you. There's more going on here than you know but if you would really like to know why I'm here there's a really annoying spirit who won't leave me alone and likes you. Happy?" With that he stormed off, clenching his fists and burying the images of his father and that last dreadful day in the Fire Nation. You will bring me the Avatar or you can die out there as a disgrace to yourself, your family and your country… He gritted his teeth and carried on, telling himself that this Agni Kai would show his father that he wasn't worthless, that he could be someone to be proud of. Even if that was only at a military level.
Aang was confused. Zuko had come, been supportive (in a strange detached way) and made him feel better, only to then turn around and become the Fire Nation Prince he had been on that ship. Clearly, he had said the wrong thing, but Aang couldn't figure out what it was. Something to do with why he had attacked them and wanted him as some sort of prize. But the ferocity in which he had stated that he hadn't tried to kill him was more than just anger at Aang for even thinking he was capable of that, but there was also guilt in the other boy's eyes, guilt that stated that even if he hadn't meant to, he nearly had killed Aang, even if that had been unintentional. And then there was the fact that Aang had nearly returned the favour.
But now he had to figure out how he got out of here, how to return to the normal world and not this in-between space. He wished he had paid more attention when Gyatso was trying to teach him about the spirit world, but since this wasn't exactly the spirit world either, he supposed that didn't matter. Instead he sighed, feeling anger and sorrow begin to dissipate and the world around him slowly faded. A moment later his legs didn't want to keep him standing upright any longer.
"K-Katara?" he muttered, confused as to where he was. She gripped him tighter and he realised that she was holding him in a hug but she gradually let him go.
"I'm really sorry Aang," she murmured. "I know he meant a lot to you."
"But we mean what we said," Sokka said quietly as he joined them. "You're our family now. Whatever happens, we're in it together." Aang wasn't completely sure what they were talking about but he appreciated what they were trying to do and gave them a small smile, even if it was a little watery through the tears beginning to threaten to fall down his face.
"I know." He glanced around at the bodies, making himself look at the body of Gyatso. Zuko had been here, had tried to help in the only way he knew how, but Aang knew he couldn't rely on that. The prince was already stuck between a rock and a hard place and he supposed that being given a gift of the spirits that could get you killed even a hundred years ago was probably a lot worse now. He's braver then me Aang thought. He carried on, knowing that every day his life was in danger because of how he was born. All I've done is run away from my duty. But he couldn't dwell on that now. He had to do something first.
"Could you give me a minute please?" he asked quietly, glancing towards Gyatso. Sokka nodded and dragged a reluctant Katara out of the tent. Sighing quietly, Aang approached the monk's body and carefully knelt before him as if he could talk to him as they had once spoken so easily before. "I'm sorry I ran away," he started quietly. "I'm sorry I left this all behind. It was stupid of me to make earthly attachments. You taught me better than that but…" And this was the hard part, admitting that he had been going against the monks' teachings all along. "But you were the only one who treated me like a person even after I found out I was the Avatar. Forgive me Gyatso. The Elders were right, I was too close to you but I don't regret that. Zuko was right too, you were my family and Sokka and Katara are my family now. I hope you'll forgive me when we meet again." He rose and bowed respectfully. For a moment, he thought he could feel Gyatso's soft hand patting his head again, just as he had done all those years ago.
"Do not despair Aang. I am proud of you as I have always been. It is not wrong to wish for attachments when the task seems too great, and you were not the only one to have taken their own twist to the monks' teachings. But it was better that you left, or else that poor boy would be left with this task all alone." Aang blinked, straightening and looking around. He could have sworn he heard Gyatso speaking to him, but that was impossible. Gyatso was dead. His skeleton was lying on the ground before him, surrounded by the Fire Nation dead. But Aang felt warm inside, like when Gyatso would give him a hug after a nightmare when he was little, all alone in his room where no one could see. And he smiled, knowing that maybe, just maybe, he had done the right thing after all.
Sometime later he stood at the edge of the mountain, glancing up at the temple. The lemur- who he had decided to name Momo- was sat on his shoulder, chomping on some berries that he had found, dropping the rest in Sokka's lap. Lemurs always knew what you wanted, even if they were greedy.
"Well," he said reflectively, "We're all that's left of this place. You, me and Appa." He glanced back at his two new friends who were waiting a respectful distance behind him. They hadn't told him about this place but he could understand why. After all, telling your friend that their entire race had been wiped out was not supposed to be an easy task. "Lets' go."
Katara and Sokka had already loaded the saddle while he was talking to Gyatso (or at least what was left of his mortal body) and so they climbed Appa and took off. Aang wondered if this would be the last of his world that he would ever truly see as the temple faded away into the mist. The world was already so different from what he knew and it had only been two days. He was hunted by a Fire Nation prince and accompanied by the last waterbender of the Southern Water Tribe. And somehow, he knew the world was only going to get crazier.
Zuko knew that this had been a stupid idea. Had known it from the moment the words had left his mouth, from getting up from a peaceful meditation after having to calm down one traumatised airbender who knew where and he knew it now as he faced his uncle, wishing that he could do anything than have his back to Zhao. The last time he had had his back to someone in an arena like this it had not been the person he had been expecting. The world kept flashing over with that day and part of him was afraid that he would see his father and not Zhao when he turned around.
But his father wouldn't be wasting time with one exiled son who had disgraced him so publicly.
"Remember your basics Prince Zuko," Iroh murmured, his face etched with worry. And why wouldn't it? Uncle had been there the day his face had been filled with one fire-filled punch, had prevented it from going any further. If Uncle hadn't been there, Zuko doubted he would still be alive, let alone the scarring his father would deliver even if he had.
He heard Zhao faintly murmur something behind him, so quiet a normal person would have missed it. But all those hunting sessions with Junsuina had paid off, even if people had been concerned by a prince who hunted rabbit-moles in the ruins of the old palace. It had been one of the few moments he could have fun bending whatever he wanted and even without the bending hunting required the skill to know your prey, to find them by waiting for the slightest slip. It might have sounded like something Azula would do but at least he didn't kill what he hunted. Mostly.
And then the gong went and the time for talking was over. He took a deep breath, rose and turned in the same movement, shuddering internally at the feeling of the ceremonial cloth falling from his shoulders. The wind tickled the bare skin of his chest and he noted that Zhao shivered ever so slightly. The Earth Kingdom wasn't as warm as the Fire Nation but Zuko had been trained in keeping warm in polar winters. He didn't really mind the breeze, even if it did call to him. This could be tricky if I get distracted Zuko thought, slipping into a ready stance. He knew Zhao would want the glory of having blinded the prince where his father had failed. And Zuko had no intention of mentioning how close that had been in itself.
He also knew that Zhao was waiting for him to make the first move. Well if you so insist Zuko thought, throwing the first punch. Zhao would wait for him to throw the supposed 'best' he could at him, before beating him back. He knew what the man was like; after all he had dealt with him before. The man was predictable, even in training (not that Zuko had been supposed to watch that but most people didn't bother watching the rooftops. Which was stupid because that left an opening for assassins but also opportunities for one interested in gathering intelligence). Zhao smirked at the carefully controlled weak blast of fire as Zuko waited for him to deflect it, but still moving into a vicious kick, just so Zhao didn't know what he was up to. Uncle believed he could win this fight, and so did the spirit. Who was helpfully quiet at this moment so he could concentrate on fire and only fire.
Another kick, another punch and Zhao blocked them all. And then the general's offensive began and Zuko internally smirked. Azula was known for her tactical genius, for her prodigal bending. Which was helpful for Zuko because she was the one who spread the rumour that he was incompetent simply because he couldn't defeat her. And anyone who couldn't defeat Azula was sub-standard in his sister's mind. Zhao had never been to one of Zuko's training sessions, either at Piandao's house or in the palace. He had never bothered to collect details on the prince's odd behaviour, his strange habits. His uncanny ability to think on his feet and get out of trouble when it looked like he would fall (apart from the one time…). Sure, Azula was ten steps ahead of the game, but once in the middle of a fight and unable to plan or caught by surprise, her only tactic was blast, kill and run to plan, to rectify this one defeat (and since Zuko had once got the drop on her by slapping her when she was riling him up, he had also learnt not to hit Daddy's Little Princess if you wished to see the next dawn. But then again, he was already exiled by that point in time so he couldn't do much else to him by then). Zuko didn't plan, he hunted.
A dragon traps its prey before going in for the kill. Let's see if you're ready. Zhao threw one last punch that, had he not been paying attention, would have knocked him flat on his back. The power behind the punch was so that if he had been the ability of the bender that Zhao thought he was, he would have been flat on his back. But Zuko was no longer there by the time that Zhao's blast reached the spot where he had been standing. A dragon coils around its prey, cutting off escape routes. But Zuko wasn't a dragon and had spent years compensating for this in his tag games with Junsuina. Zhao spun, spinning fire with him and Zuko danced out of the way yet again. It was almost as antagonising as the airbender, except Zuko felt more like a candle flame in the wind close to a dry forest. Any moment now, it would go up in flames, just like Zhao's career eventually would (any time in this century please Agni). Zhao growled, throwing another punch, and this time Zuko blocked it. Grinned as he had at the rabbit-moles all those years ago before sliding his foot forward in a deceptively gentle movement, flames aimed at Zhao's own. The general stumbled backwards, either not talented enough to block the fire with his feet or startled that the prince, who had shown himself a better warrior than he thought so far, was using such a basic move against him. But it had a simple and effective outcome. Zhao concentrated on his feet, on how his root and stance was broken by the constant flames Zuko's sent towards them. And now for the killer blow.
Usually this move would shape the fire column into a dragon, but he didn't want Zhao to know he could do that. Far too advanced for a so called beginner. So it stayed as a normal, boring old flame punch that threw the general to the ground, leaving him staring defiantly up at one very angry teenager.
"Do it," Zhao growled, eyeing the fist aimed at his face. For a moment, Zuko seriously considered it. But he was not his father. Zhao was an idiot and too arrogant for his own good, but he would cause his own downfall no matter what Zuko did. He was better than that. Although, one fire ball won't hurt to make him wary of me if that show hasn't made the message sink in…
"You're nothing but a coward," Zhao growled, not even glancing at the smoking hole a mere two inches from his head.
"I'm not an idiot," Zuko answered, turning to leave. He felt more than heard, felt Zhao rise and begin the movements for a fire kick… and also felt his uncle move at a speed most thought him incapable of. There was a satisfying yelp as Zhao skidded halfway across the arena.
"So this is the way the great General Zhao acts in defeat," Iroh said gravely, shaking his head and tut-tutting. "Even in exile, my nephew has more honour than you ever will. Thank you for the tea. It was delicious." They left the arena together, Zuko surreptitiously smoothing the ground ahead of him. After all, he had no boots on and he was not going to end up limping on his ship because he stepped on a pebble.
"Did you mean that uncle?" he asked quietly, wondering about his uncle's remark. He had lost his honour when he spoke out against father.
You lost no such thing the spirit murmured, but Zuko ignored it, listening to his uncle.
"Of course. You know ginseng tea is my favourite." And if they hadn't been so close to the ship, surrounded by Zhao's soldiers or still in hearing range of one angry general, Zuko would quite possibly have laughed at that. If only Junsuina could have been here to see the arrogant General get his comeuppance. She would have loved it.
Thank you for reading! And thanks to Yungsun, annelise311, Flip Ants, Guest, Elise and Swef Elizzy for your lovely reviews! They really helped in motivating me to sorting my life out a bit :)