AN: *hand pops through ground* I…. Am…. ALIVEEEEE!
In all seriousness, though: I'm sorry for taking so long to re-appear on the fanfiction scene. I've still been on this site almost every day but I've been reading instead of writing. Which was fun for me but probably a little off-putting for those wonderful people out there who actually WANT me to post some of my inane drivel. To those people I humbly apologise. I have a week off before I return to school and I intend to finish off these ten prompts.
Andmaybestartamultichapterfic butIdon'twanttomakeany promisesIcannotkeepsoyeah youdidn'thearanything.
Ahem. Originally – and I had this fic planned out way before the others because it's the one prompt Deffie decided to be nice with – I was going to do a prelude to a fic I've wanted to start for ages to gauge your reactions and ignite my muse. But after my long absence and my muse being sapped by the horrid torture of exams I hyped myself into ATLA mode by looking at all the pics I faved on dA. And most of the ones I looked at were surrounding the Agni Kai in the finale. Add that to the fact that Deffie has been as terrible as I have and STILL hasn't updated TCR and you'll understand why I chose the easy way out.
Deffie, this one is for yous. Because I want more TCR and I want my Agni Kai scene and you're the one who told me to write scenes in different perspectives when I was museless and had writer's block. I hope nobody minds the lack of creativity. Next chapter will be much the same but 9 and 10 will be marginally more original. In the sense that they are not based off of moments in the show, that is.
Reviews will be loved. Slight warning: Here be undertones of Zutara.
Disclaimer: Even after all this time, it's not mine.
Agony
In retrospect, he probably should not have been so confident or so cocky. But, then again, he was never one to plan his assaults carefully. When he wanted something he did everything – everything – in his power to get it. In his mind's eye there was only one possible path until it was totally and completely shattered before his eyes; destroyed until there was no way he could cling to it in hopes of it getting him to where he wanted to be. Only when the path he was stubbornly marching on was that badly decimated would he allow himself to look for a new path; a new possibility.
Usually the decimation was done by his enemies. He could not count the number of times his perfectly sculpted and well-lit pathway had been turned to a pile of crumpled, dark ashes because Aang managed to escape again, or Azula again proved to be more powerful, or Zhao again used his resources to undermine him and his quest. Sometimes, however, his path and his plans were blown to pieces by his wise, wise uncle. He never appreciated it when the retired general did it and he would put up as much of a fight as he could to blow off his frustration and the disappointed desperation that threatened to crush him. But, much later, he would lie awake in bed and contemplate. It was then that he realized how much his uncle saved him from himself.
Uncle Iroh had not been able to shake him and destroy his disillusioned path and plans in the catacombs of Ba Sing Se. Uncle Iroh was not there to stop his disillusioned path during the battle for the Fire Nation, either. That, he reflected days later, was why it had happened as it had.
If Iroh had been around Zuko would have thought twice about accepting his sister's challenge so easily. Iroh's presence would not have changed Zuko's mind about letting Katara fight with him – even the old man's wisdom would never have allowed the Firebender to put his new friend in such danger – but he probably would have been a lot more cautious and a lot more attentive to the 'something off' that hung about Azula like a stench. His uncle would probably have had the initiative to send Katara to the sidelines where it was truly safe. His uncle would probably have planned an escape for the Waterbender instead of just having a constant, niggling worry for her at the back of his mind as Zuko did.
If Iroh had been around Zuko would have thought twice about taunting his sister.
He just wanted Azula to throw her best at him so he could bat it away effortlessly and give her the same dropping feeling of helpless defeat that she had bestowed upon him time and time again. He wanted to win the fight mentally as well as physically. He wanted to better the best, and he thought he could do it because he had held against everything she had thrown his way as of yet and he had given back almost too much for her to bear.
And so, when his pride and stubbornness and the exhilarating adrenalin of the battle pulled the taunt from his lips – No lightning today? Afraid I'll re-direct it? – he thought of nothing except Iroh's words on how to be rid of the powerful, utterly destructive cold fire without injuring himself. He placed his feet firmly on the ground, breathing in deep and tingling with anticipation, excitement and fear. In his mind he chanted the mantra he had created of his uncle's instructions, envisioning Azula's best weapon being tossed away or used against her.
Fingers, arm, shoulder, down, stomach, arm, up and out. He bet she didn't even believe he'd really re-directed Ozai's lightning.
Fingers, arm, shoulder, down, stomach, arm, up and out. All those years of her beating him with her mind games and her natural talent would crumble on that day. It was his land and his destiny.
Fingers, arm, shoulder, down, stomach, arm, up and out. She was creating lightning, now, seething and determined all at once. And his excitement grew, body and soul tensing as he waited for the inevitable.
Fingers, arm, shoulder, down, stomach, arm, up and out. Even in her anger her usual utter and complete perfection was off. Her form was sloppy, her lightning sparking around her instead of forming perfect lines.
Fingers, arm, shoulder, down, stomach, arm, up and out. And she was distracted: her eyes left his and instead turned to his right. He didn't even bother to see what had caught her attention: he had to focus on the cold doom she held in her hands.
Fingers, arm, shoulder, down, stomach, arm, up and out. Finally, some of the old Azula was back: she was smirking the smirk he knew as well as he knew the scar on his face.
Fingers- Wait. She was turning? Why was she… No. No!
Katara. How could he have forgotten about Katara? How had he not even dreamed up the possibility that Azula would not remain noble and true to the rules of their duel? It was Azula – Azula always lied. He had, once again, forgotten that fundamental fact and had fallen into her trap. As always, she'd allowed him to think he was on top before ruthlessly cutting him down. Only this time it would be so much more devastating than before.
Losing Katara… They'd just become friends. She was… He felt… No. No. She couldn't die.
His body, used to making split-second decisions without much consent from his logic, moved on its own. All thoughts of bettering Azula, of winning the battle, of being the best and of following his uncle's instructions were wiped from his mind in a split second. Right then his only purpose – his only desire and his only path – was saving the Waterbender beside him.
But he was too slow! He would never be able to reach a bending stance in front of her in time! Too late, too late! his mind screamed at him as he moved. And he imagined the light disappearing from the blue eyes he knew best in the world. He imagined her inner fire – because that was the most adept description he could come up with – being snuffed out by the cold, ruthless, unfeeling burn of the lightning. He imagined her lying limp and never getting up again to yell at him, attack him, threaten him, hug him…
The denial that ravaged through his mind at his imaginings tore from his lips. "No!"
And then Zuko, banished prince of the Fire Nation, did the only thing he could possibly do in the situation: he leapt to his right so he was directly in the path of the lightning. And, when the ice-blue destruction was close enough, he grabbed it and pulled it to his chest. Even as he felt gravity begin to yank him down he curled his torso around the lightning, absorbing it into him so that not one stray spark could ever hope to harm his friend.
As he hugged the lightning to himself he vaguely remembered his uncle telling him never to let the lightning into his chest or near his heart.
And then, his body exploded.
Zuko had writhed for days after his first Agni Kai, pain eating him up and making him long to scream for his mother. He'd often crawled into his bed on his ship so he could scream the ache of his latest training injury into the mattress where nobody could hear. He had slept for a full day after the pirates had blown up his ship, hissing at almost every movement and not even minding the concern in his uncle's eyes because it granted him some respite. His sickness in the Earth Kingdom had made his own body feel like blasting jelly and he had never ached and burned and froze all at once like that in his entire life.
But he would have taken all those things – every injury he had ever received – a thousand times over to escape the feeling of the lightning in his body. Later he was told that the force of Azula's attack had thrown him to the ground and that he'd managed to safely re-direct most of the lightning out of the arena. While the moments were happening, however, he knew none of that. Time, space and the world lost its hold on him and he was thrown, helpless, into an ocean of agony.
He had never known the meaning of that word until that moment. He had thought, as his injuries grew in size over the years, that he knew what 'agony' felt like. He had been very, very mistaken.
Zuko was being burnt from the inside, torn open by racing currents of electricity that caused his body to twitch and spasm uncontrollably like a puppet in the hands of an inexperienced child. The pain mounted and spread, fanning out across his chest in waves of torture that he could not put words to. He wanted to scream; wanted to put a noise to the death that was claiming him so swiftly as he lay incomprehensive and in nothingness. But he could not breathe; his chest was too busy tearing open and caving in on itself for it to remember how to pull air into his lungs. He was screaming in his head, though; screaming and pleading and praying like he had never prayed before. And all the while agony stabbed every millimeter of his body.
Some of the remaining lightning in his body ran its course through him and entered into the ground. He was allowed to breathe then; pulling in more oxygen in quick, shallow bursts. But while the air saved him from suffocating its relief was overshadowed by the negative affects it wrought on him. Inhaling caused his chest to move, aggravating the burnt, destroyed flesh so much he thought he would pass out from the pain. And the oxygen brought him into sharper consciousness – he could now feel his wound even better than before. Desperate to succumb to the blackness that promised relief Zuko inhaled slower, relaxing his aching body and pleading internally for respite.
A word stopped his progress just as unconsciousness began to claim him. "Zuko!"
In all the time since he'd met the Waterbender, he had never heard her sound that terrified. And her fearful and desperate cry snapped his brain back into action, allowing him to process more than the agony that was his body right then. Katara was still in the arena with a now triumphant, mad and very powerful Azula. And there was nobody left to keep the Firebender away from her. She was completely and utterly exposed.
It took every bit of strength he had to force his eyes open. The sky – emblazed red – swam sickeningly before his eyes and reminded him so forcefully of blood that he wanted to vomit. He didn't even remember how he got onto his back. Somewhere to his right, Azula's fire exploded on the ground. He begged Agni that Katara had gotten out of the way and was running as fast as she could. Suddenly Azula's cackling, unearthly laugh vibrated across the arena and Zuko sensed rather than felt his sister charging. The ground beneath him began to vibrate as the princess drew nearer but he had no time to try and will his head to turn and watch her charge before she was upon him. Her spit landed right on his head and her kick was forceful enough to turn him right over. He heard the pathetic noise of pure pain that escaped him as his front hit the cold tiles.
Azula laughed again and he envisioned her calling up her ruthless blue fire, ready to finish the job. At least then he would be free of the burning, tearing and suffocating. And then his sister was grunting in half surprise and half rage, and he felt her body hit the ground a few feet away. Water drops sprayed lightly over his back and even in his stupor of pain Zuko realized what had stopped Azula. Katara had not run.
Fear gave Zuko's body more strength and he pushed away the terrible ache and tried to gather his arms beneath him so he could lift his torso. The movement dragged him under the surface into pure, indescribable agony once more but he refused to stop trying to rise until his arms gave in beneath him. Once more the Firebender lost the ability to control his breathing and his body shuddered under the effort of his rapid, pained gasps. Spots were beginning to take over his vision and the spot of the tile he found himself staring at grew more and more blurred until it was just a mesh of colour with no meaning.
He felt more fire explode somewhere close and used the new spark of fear to force his eyes upwards. It took him mercifully little time to pinpoint his companion. However, when he did lay eyes on her he felt the little bit of his heart that was still working properly stop beating. Azula's fire missed Katara's heels by mere pinpricks and the Waterbender almost slipped as the hot flames licked at her. Desperately – unable to do anything else – he reached out a hand to her as Azula sent another attack, forcing her to leap out of the way. With every bit of his mental strength he willed his tortured body to rise so he could help her, not even noticing how he shook and twitched as he tried in vain to reach the Water Tribe girl.
The last of his fear-given strength failed and his face was once again met by cool stone. His efforts had completely exhausted him: he had nothing left. Almost gleefully the agony in his body took hold of him again, dragging him further and further into oblivion. He heard nothing, saw nothing and felt nothing other than his own suffocation and inner destruction. His heartbeat was slowing in his own ears and he didn't even have enough of his own mind left to be afraid.
In the last bit of him that still clung to awareness he screamed for his Waterbender friend. The whole point of the Agni Kai was so that she would not get hurt. He had promised Sokka, quietly behind the tents before they all parted ways. He had silently promised Aang, too, even though the Avatar had been absent. He had promised himself that he would never allow anything to happen to her while he was still breathing.
The irony of the situation hit him hard, and he didn't even have enough left in him to laugh.
The part of his mind that was still aware grew smaller and smaller as the moments ticked on. He didn't know how long he struggled against the pain and his failing heart before he began to yell at Katara in his mind. Run, Katara! Run! You'll gain some time while she comes to finish me off or watch me die. Run and get to Sokka. He'll protect you. Run and don't stop until you're safe. I'm sorry. So sorry. I promised not to let you get hurt and I once again broke my word. I'm sorry for getting you into this. Run, Katara. Run like you have never run before.
He wanted to scream his thoughts out to her but the most he could do then was moan pathetically as he tried to draw breath. Disorientated, his thoughts began to swim and change in his head until he wasn't sure what he was thinking any more. Faces, fragmented memories and pounding mantras of how much he hurt sounded in his head as he lay, moaned and breathed slower and slower as the minutes ticked on.
Never give up without… "My nephew! Do come and see!"… Without a fight… Spirits it hurts… "Zuko! Why would you do that?"… Never… Mom, please! It hurts!… Give up… "Come on. You'll be - "… I can't breathe. I can't… "Ever since my son died - "… "There are reasons each of us are born." … "You're pathetic!"… Please let me die… "Do not fear, my son. I have you."… Fight…
One last time, Zuko forced his eyes open. He saw nothing but haze and the small effort caused him to groan in pain yet again. So suddenly it took the little bit of breath he possessed away he was being moved. For a second he thought it was the sensation of dying he felt; his spirit turning over so it could leave his body. The pain reached a new climax and he clenched his face tight against the feeling that was so surely dying. He felt his heart stutter, the sound of his blood reaching a roaring pitch in his ears. He forced himself to take another breath, shaking with the exertion it took – he would not die from lack of air when oxygen was plentiful around him. His pride would not allow it.
And then Zuko felt something he had been granted only a few times in his life: mercy.
The agony in his chest steadily stilled until it was reduced to a throbbing burn that was a bearable amount of pain. Oxygen rushed into his lungs glorious and sweet. The first thing that passed through his mind was a cry of thanks that it was over, and he allowed his body to sink down and his face to unclench.
Wait… Body? How could he still have a body if he had died?
Shock forced his eyes open. They were met by one of the most beautiful and most magnificent sights he had ever seen in his life. Despite the dirt clinging to her face and the tears pooling rapidly in her eyes– why was she crying, anyway? Girls were so emotional – Katara of the Water Tribe was smiling at him. And her smile was so wide and so shining and so full of wonderful emotions that his lips twitched upwards in a tired imitation.
In a rush he understood. She had taken the agony from him. She had saved his life. She had stopped it and turned it all bearable. "Thank you, Katara." He wanted to say more – oh so much more – but he had no strength and no voice to articulate his relief, his joy and his utter thanks.
"I think I'm the one who should be thanking you," she responded, the tears cascading down her face and her blue eyes full of thanks and warmth and triumph.
They were also full of life and that was something that Zuko was more grateful for than anything in the world.
Gently, Katara helped him to sit up and then clamber to his feet. He still hurt all over but the pain was nothing compared to what it had been. He could work with his body now – it was breathing and functioning and would stand and walk as he commanded for a while. But as he tipped to his feet ungracefully, wincing as he went, a new type of agony started in his heart.
Azula chained to the grate, roaring and flailing and finally sobbing in maddened defeat, was enough to make him want to collapse to his knees, hide his face and never look up again. He's wanted to defeat his sister but… Not like that. Never like that. Katara, seemingly understanding, placed a hand on his arm and looked away from the sobbing princess.
The once banished prince of the Fire Nation turned to the Waterbender at his side after a while and she met his gaze with harrowed eyes of her own.
"Aang." Zuko said simply.
She nodded, understanding, and gently wrapped her arm around him to steady him as he swayed. The Waterbender then looked around for the Sages or anybody else to take care of Azula while Zuko tried to catch up with the bits he had missed whilst in a stupor on the floor. His brain was too scrambled and too exhausted to piece events together and he soon gave up and willingly followed Katara's gentle command. As they staggered across the arena floor to some destination the Waterbender deemed the most important, Zuko was able to grasp one revelation.
Katara had saved him from agony. And her anxious glances his way as well as her firm hold on him told him that she would do so again in the future. It would never be the same type of agony – praise be to Agni – but whatever form it took the Waterbender would be there to help. He could tell she had vowed it to herself. Smiling a little, Zuko silently thanked the Spirits and Katara's mother for the Waterbender at his side.
AN 2: Soppy ending. Sorry. I got really tired after writing all of it. And I couldn't find another way to end it. This is probably going to feature in the multi-chapter I'm not thinking of starting when I'm done with 'Fragments'. It's the basis of this non-existent fic and so anybody who reads the non-existent fic might see large chunks of it in there. So it would be appreciated if all mistakes or improvements are shot out of the water now so the non-existent fic can be as good as possible.
Not that I'm thinking of starting a fic *shifty eyes* Not at all. *Whispers to sister* Was that subtle enough? *Sister shakes head despairingly*