Title: Toward the Rising Sun
Rating: PG
Pairings/Characters: Zuko, Aang, some Zuko/Katara
Warnings: uh, some kissing; probably some violence eventually
Word count: 5836
Disclaimer: Avatar: The Last Airbender belongs to the nice folks at Nickelodeon.
Ran swam with determination. Zuko could feel the fluid pull of muscles shifting under his hands, but he looked away from her and up to the ceiling of shining, translucent water that Aang formed around them. He could see mirror images of her red scales, Aang's face serene with concentration, and his own nervous scowl as he watched the ocean flow above them. There was a thick, uncertain feeling that stuck in his throat. It was his plan, swimming to the ship with Aang waterbending to give them a bubble of air, but that didn't mean he had to like it.
He didn't like any of his plan, actually.
It wasn't that he wanted to drown the pirates, nor that he disapproved of sneaking around. Especially not the second one.
But in all times past, the weight of failure had fallen on him alone. He didn't have a problem jumping off of conning towers or swimming the arctic sea when he was the only one facing the consequences. Now, if they failed it was the masters who would suffer. His family and his nation had done enough harm to the dragons already. They had already destroyed their culture in anger and selfishness.
Zuko didn't know what he would do if he failed his people again, exposing the secret home of the dragons to pirates or worse, the Fire Navy itself.
Ran turned her head, eyeing him over her shoulder, and he reached out to lay his hand across her forehead. She leaned into the touch and Zuko swallowed. This was the responsibility of a prince, and he would shoulder it.
"Are we there yet?" Aang called. He sounded a little winded from the effort of maintaining their bubble, which wasn't at all comforting to hear.
"We're close enough," Zuko replied without turning.
He could see the hull of the ship just ahead, the small rudder fixed on a course that would take them to the island, and the slow churning of the propeller creating bubbles in the water. He nudged Ran's side gently with his knee and she rose. Zuko heard Aang's relieved sigh as they slowly breached the surface. He relaxed his hold on the water. It rippled out from Ran, splashing against the side of the pirate ship as they neared.
"So, um, what now?" Aang asked.
One of the nice things about commanding soldiers was that they hadn't asked questions. Then again, maybe if they had and Zuko had explained, they wouldn't have failed quite so often. But this really wasn't the time to be nostalgic for his ship, his crew, or trying to capture Aang.
"Now we sneak on board, change their course, and destroy any charts that would lead them back here," Zuko said tersely.
How exactly they were going to do any of that was uncomfortably up in the air. Zuko was accustomed to plans that, well, sucked. But normally that was because he hadn't thought through the consequences of either success or failure. This plan fell into a different, yet still terrible, gray area. The pirate ship was a stolen Mark Two Fire Navy ship, the generation of small vessel right before Zuko's own ship. The layout was similar, from what he'd heard, but he'd never been aboard one. If they were going to get on board quietly and move with any measure of stealth, they'd better hope the layout was as close as he'd heard. The only alternative to stealth was a full out assault – which they'd already dismissed back on the beach. Despite that, a part of Zuko itched for a head to head confrontation. He really did not like pirates.
Aang seemed pretty much fine with the big question mark hanging over their plan. Zuko had the distinct sense that this was exactly how Aang usually operated. It'd worked out so far. Sort of.
Zuko squared his shoulders, standing carefully on Ran's back as she maneuvered closer to the port side of the ship. He needed to be above the water line when he cut into the metal, or the whole thing of not murdering everyone wouldn't happen. Frowning, he knelt down again, running his hand along Ran's head as he whispered his instructions to her. He wasn't altogether sure how much she understood of what he said, but it was enough. She arched out of the water, lifting Zuko and Aang high enough to reach the small portholes in the ship's side. They weren't glass. Instead, they were yet more smooth metal, hinged to swing outward – more of a safety measure than a true window, used more often to vent exhaust than to give seasick sailors a view.
One of them was open at the moment and though no smoke billowed out, the air smelled acrid and thick. This was close to the engine room.
He peered in quickly, trying to get his bearings for the ship. It should be a storage room, but there was the possibility that it had been converted to crew quarters, which would make it pretty much the worst room to enter through. Luckily, all he saw inside were barrels and crates. Not even a sailor keeping watch against pilfering, or pilfering food himself.
"It's clear," Zuko said.
Aang put his hands on Zuko's shoulder, trying to lever himself up to look in. Ran accommodatingly rose, boosting him just enough.
"Great!" he enthused. He seized the edges of the porthole, looking ready to squeeze in. "I'll go first."
Zuko rolled his eyes, grabbing Aang around the waist to haul him back. He wobbled a bit on Ran's back and she snorted in annoyance. A puff of mist surrounded them as Zuko put Aang down. The younger boy winced visibly and knelt down to pat at her side apologetically.
"It's not big enough," Zuko told Aang. In times past, he might have gestured to the roundness of Aang's head, but favoring their newfound understanding of each other, he instead gestured to the broadness of his own shoulders. Aang got the picture, nodding with chagrin, brows furrowed as he tried to think of what to do. He craned his neck, seeming to think of climbing up the side of the ship. Zuko had a different plan. Raising two fingers, he leaned in close to the hull, commanding Aang in an aside, "Cover your eyes."
Zuko breathed in deeply, summoning up all the will to bend. He could feel the sun beating down on his uncovered neck, evaporating the seaspray that dashed against Ran and the ship alike, running down his naked back and soaking the Sun Warrior trousers he still wore. Narrowing his eyes, he breathed out and at the same time, lit a spark at the end of his fingers. Not yellow flame, warm with life, but searing white, unforgivably hot. It was edged in blue as Zuko concentrated on his one driving motive: burn.
"Wow, when did you learn that?" Aang asked.
Zuko could feel him at his back, leaning over his shoulder to watch. The flame flickered and Zuko gritted his teeth. How much power – how much anger – did Azula pour into her flames to keep them blue? The fire settled into white again, comfortably within Zuko's grasp and control. He held it to the side of the ship, watching steel melt in thick drips and rivulets as he carved a line across the bow. He circled the porthole, wide enough to fit him and Aang through, high enough above the waterline that they wouldn't scuttle themselves. And then, breath heaving from the exertion, he threw himself forward to punch fire at the unstable, weakened hull.
The large circle Zuko had carved out crashed inward with the horrible screeching of abused metal. Mindful of the still hot metal outside, Zuko nodded to Aang before diving through. He tumbled onto the deck, far clear of the entrance he'd made, while Aang floated in with his typical grace.
Aang looked around the room, taking in the damage with a disconcerted expression.
"I thought we were being sneaky," he said.
"It's sneakier than running across the deck hoping no one notices," Zuko replied. "But we need to move fast. Someone might have heard that."
"You think?" Aang asked, disbelief edging into sarcasm. He frowned, tossing a look back to the gaping hole in the ship's side. Ran was peering in curiously. "Is that safe?"
"I hope so," Zuko said in a low voice. He pushed at Aang's shoulder. "Come on."
Aang twirled his staff, bringing it into defensive position.
"Which way?"
Zuko grimaced, looking around to take better measure of the room. The crates were food but the barrels, as it turned out, were not water. Baijiu. He wrinkled his nose at the thought, although it might turn out to be a boon in their favor. If they were lucky, the crew had been imbibing, leaving them a drunk or hung-over adversary that would be easy to deal with. If not… well, it was always nice to have a good incendiary around. Otherwise, the storeroom was unremarkable. It was on the starboard side of the ship, with both the rumble of the engine and its heat seeping up through the floor. The noise wasn't enough to drown out Zuko and Aang's words, nor had probably hidden the sound of their entrance, but it gave Zuko a way of orienting himself. They were above the engine room, although not directly above. If it were Zuko's ship, the crew quarters would be in the aftcastle, under the conning tower, safely out of the way from the fumes of the engine room. Below decks they had the rhino stables – presumably not something the pirates kept – yet more storerooms for food and fuel, and a small galley that used the heat of the engine to power their stoves. If they were careful, they might be able to avoid any pirates at all until they were up the tower, where the captain and pilot would be on duty regardless.
"Up," he said. "Hug the shadows, move quietly, and follow me. Hopefully, we won't have to introduce ourselves to the crew."
"And if we do?" Aang's eyes were wide and curious, as they always were, but the matter was more serious than that. Zuko remembered their argument on the steam ship just as well as Aang did. Zuko stood by what he had said. To fight with the assumption that you would win, to pull punches, was dishonorable. But not pulling punches didn't mean killing and it didn't mean fighting with uncontrolled fury. He saw that now.
"Then we do what we have to do. I would have thought you – master of four elements and the Avatar state – would have the power and control to do this right."
A small smile pulled the corner of Aang's mouth up and he nodded. Zuko had to fight smiling in return. It was weirdly nice to agree on something.
"Not a master yet," Aang said. His ears were a bit red with an embarrassed, yet proud, blush. He didn't really do humble well.
And it was true enough that Aang was hardly a master, but Zuko was sick of the banter. He moved stealthily to the interior door, willing himself back into the habit despite the bright light of day streaming in behind him and his conspicuous lack of a mask. The porthole of the interior door showed a more dimly lit corridor beyond and nothing but a hall of closed doors. Easing it open, Zuko slipped through and Aang was quick to follow.
The corridor was the same plated and bolted metal Zuko remembered well from his own ship and, more recently, from his unwilling stint on Bei Hu's ship. He listened for the engine to get his bearings. The hall would go down to the bow of the ship. They wanted to follow the hall to the back of the ship and then up, instead. Footfalls soft on the metal floor, he and Aang carefully made their way toward the theoretical stern, changing sides to avoid each new and the hazards of them suddenly opening. The lighting in the halls, Zuko noticed, came only through the portholes. They were none too confident about keeping open flames, which was a comforting thought. They didn't have any firebenders.
"So far so good," Aang breathed out as they came to a stairwell. Zuko shot him a quelling look. This was not the time to get chatty.
The stairwell would be a dangerous place for them. Close quarters for a fight, too close to flee or let an adversary flee, and since it ran the breadth of the decks below, the aftcastle, and the conning tower, any noise that carried would be heard by everyone. But there was nothing for it.
"I need you to defend while we go up," Zuko said, leaning down to hush his voice. "Stay a few paces behind me."
Aang got the idea, turning around to go up the stairs backward, staff held at the ready while Zuko crept up the stairs with his hands held defensively before him. He wished he'd remembered to bring his swords on this trip.
The staircase didn't spiral, but instead went up one wall with several flat platforms between the zigzagging flights of stairs. One for the deck, one for the crew quarters and then, finally, one for the control tower. They came to the upper landing, relieved to have made it this far. Seriously, these pirates showed a complete lack of professionalism. The door was open a crack and Zuko could hear voices from inside, lazily joking with each other. He waited a beat, trying to mark out the different voices, get an idea of how many pirates were inside.
"It's one guy!" Aang said, eyes going wide with surprise. He clapped a hand over his mouth just as quickly as Zuko glared at him, but the pirate inside didn't seem to have heard them. Or much of anything. He'd moved from talking to himself to singing to himself.
He didn't have a bad voice, really.
"Drunk," Zuko concluded and while Aang looked a little worried at that pronouncement, it certainly made their job easier.
"Remember what you said about being quiet?" Aang asked. There was a cunning, mischievous look in his eyes. "I don't think we really need to do that."
Zuko knew from experience with his crew that the line between drunk and hungover could be pretty fine, particularly on a morning like today. More importantly, a drunk had already lost most of his equilibrium, much though he would protest that he was fighting fit.
With a quick nod to Aang to confirm their unspoken plan, Zuko kicked the door in. The pirate – a sallow-faced man with shaggy hair and the mismatched clothes typical of his vocation – jumped up from the chair he'd been leaning back in. The chair clattered to the floor and the pirate wobbled just a little. Before the pirate could get any words out, Aang shut the door behind himself, bending the air in the room into a cyclone that stole the pirate's surprised shout away. The debris of a careless crew littered the floor of the room. Papers, jugs, bowls and a large metal box of something or other. Aang focused in on the box, bending the wind to pick it up and throw it against the wall, hitting halfway between the door and the large window. The metal reverberated under the impact, ringing out loudly.
Zuko took the opportunity to strike, grabbing the disorientated man as he stumbled forward. It didn't take much to pin him down, nor to get the pirate into a choke hold. When the man fell limp in his grasp, Zuko let go, turning the man over and pressing a hand over his heart to check for a beat. He swallowed back against his own nervous, feeling unsteady until he could confirm that the man was still alive.
"Is he…?" Aang asked.
"He's fine," Zuko said, hearing a crack in his own voice. He tried to shake it off. They had a lot more pirates to get through before they were out of there. He couldn't get worked up over every single one. He exhaled, and fixed Aang with a commanding look. He pointed to the wind-strewn papers on the floor. "Get the maps. We need to put them on the right course."
"Aye aye!" Aang said, scrambling to get all the papers in order. They seemed, however, not to be maps at all. Instead, the papers were a smattering of notes, pages torn from books, and music to whatever song the pirate had been singing. Aang went to the box, cracked open by its collision with the wall. Inside, there was a treasure trove of maps – ocean currents, shipping lanes, and even Fire Nation patrols. Hakoda could certainly benefit from them. Aang sorted through them, finding the most recent map with the pirates' current heading marked out on it. His tongue poked out of his mouth as he concentrated and a small fire sprung forth from the palm of his hand. He looked up at Zuko, asking, "Are you sure?"
"Absolutely. Burn it."
For all his former wariness of fire, Aang's expression was one of calm determination as he put the map to the flame. Aang's breath held steady as the fire crept up from the corner of the paper, slowly consuming the map at an unnaturally steady and controlled pace. Zuko allowed himself a small smile at the sight. Aang had a long way to go yet in his firebending training – Zuko had just as far, testing the possibilities newly revealed to him – but he already had a solid foundation. When Aang finished, he looked up at Zuko hopefully and Zuko immediately schooled his expression into one of indifference. It wasn't that impressive.
Aang gathered up the remaining maps from the box, spreading them around the dash above the steering column, map of the currents on top. Zuko leaned over it, frown pulling his eyebrows down as he looked for the most advantageous, least dangerous path to put the pirates on. Trying to protect their worthless lives was a lot of effort.
"How about this one?" Aang asked, tracing over a major current. It was the Southeast Trade Wind, path winding down from the Northern Territory of the Fire Nation to hug the coast of the Earth Kingdom. The end point, of course, was the South Pole, but in between it hit multiple small islands and, tellingly, the Southern Air Temple. "That's the one we'd ride back when I visited my friend Kuzon."
His friend from the Fire Nation. His friend from one hundred years ago.
Zuko dismissed the feeling of disorientation he had at the thought.
"It's too dangerous," he said.
He pointed to the wide swath of empty ocean between their current position and even the nearest Fire Nation controlled island. Too many days without proper steering, too many chances of deadly storms. Much as he hated pirates, Zuko had spent too long as a sailor to condemn anyone to that. However, there might just be a better possibility. The map was big, covering the entire world, and so it showed lesser currents only as fine traceries on the paper. That didn't mean they were weak, though. The swirls of eddies and strong currents working between the northern islands of the Fire Nation were infamous and a large part of why they'd adopted steam engines so quickly and so universally.
Aang's eyes followed Zuko's hands on the map, quickly coming to the same conclusion Zuko had.
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Aang asked.
Zuko took hold of the steering wheel, already changing their course.
"I think it's time we sent these pirates where they belong."
The Boiling Rock.
Holding the steering wheel steady, Aang cast a look over his shoulder to where the pirate lay unconscious on the deck. Zuko too was on the deck, lying on his side, tucked up under the dashboard as he worked. He was welding the steering column in place with a bit of metal they'd broken off from the wheel itself. After it was fixed in place, they planned to cut the steering column, giving the pirates the appearance of control while the fixed rudder took them on a direct course to the Boiling Rock. Hopefully they wouldn't notice until it was too late.
Nervousness prickled up Aang's spine. They needed to hurry, but this was difficult and tiring work for Zuko. Just standing there waiting frustrated Aang to no end. He wanted to help! Or to fight or just get out of here already, but there wasn't anything he could do. There was just no way to take a shortcut and speed the welding up. There wasn't even anyone to fight; thankfully, no alarm had sounded yet. The pirate Zuko knocked out early had roused once before slumping back into unconsciousness, presumably helped along by the baijiu he'd been drinking. The man's chest rose and fell with his breath, marginally easing Aang's too alert mind. He seemed to be snoring, actually.
The hiss of Zuko's flame intensified and then, just as suddenly, went completely dead. The wheel turned in Aang's hands, moving too quickly and too easily now that it was unattached to the rudder. Aang grinned, leaning down to offer a hand to Zuko.
"Good work!" he said. Zuko took the hand up gratefully, a little unsteady on his feet as he stood. Aang felt a pang of concern. "Are you okay?"
Zuko looked flushed, hair sweaty as it hung in his eyes. But he didn't look weakened by the exertion. Instead, he looked energized.
"No, I'm fine. We need to get going. I want to get below decks and do a second weld. Make sure that rudder doesn't move."
Aang blinked rapidly. That sounded really unnecessary and entirely too risky. It was nice that Zuko was thinking ahead and was up to the job, but, well, this wasn't the time to get overconfident. They could just go right now. Aang looked longingly out the window. If the stupid thing opened, they'd be able to jump out, find Ran and just ride her into the sunset. Midday sun. Whatever.
It was enough to make Aang wonder if Zuko wanted them to get caught. There'd been a look on his face when he plotted the course to the Boiling Rock, a look of wistfulness followed by a grimace that Aang remembered from their talk about Iroh. The General probably wasn't even on the Boiling Rock. But maybe he was. Maybe if they stayed, let themselves get captured, they'd find Iroh and be able to break him out. But that was, aside from being an incredible long shot, an even stupider plan than their current one.
"Okay, but how about we don't? We should just get out of here, Zuko."
"Getting out means going down," Zuko said. He was glaring again, although Aang didn't hold that against Zuko. He just seemed to forget not to glare, really. "And while we're down there…"
Aang sighed. "We can make more welds. I get it."
On the other hand, more time on the ship meant maybe they'd be able to find shirts. Somehow, miraculously, Aang had managed not to get sunburned during their long dragonflight yesterday. He wasn't convinced that'd be the case today, riding Ran on the open ocean to find Hakoda's ship. And Zuko… well. He claimed he didn't burn, but Aang was just getting tired of all the damn birds.
With that in mind, Aang led the way out. He sidled around the snoozing pirate, staff held at the ready. Zuko followed, with his back to Aang and his hands brought briefly out of bending position to close the door behind them. Aang gulped, looking down. A lot of stairs, not a lot of room, and a direct entrance to the crew quarters.
A low horn called out behind them. Aang snapped around, staring back at the sealed door that muffled the alert as it came up through the communications pipe.
"Guess someone found that little hole you made," Aang joked.
"Guess so," Zuko replied grimly.
"Well, it's enough that we tried. Change of plans, eh, buddy?"
Zuko's eyes were narrowed, face set and determined as usual.
"They have no idea we're up here," he said. "If they found the hole, then they think we're down below raiding their supplies. They'll leave the engine room entirely unguarded."
Aang didn't really agree with his logic there.
"And if the guy back there just woke up and sent out the alarm?"
Zuko grabbed the railing of the staircase, vaulting over it to jump down to the next flight of stairs. He smirked as he looked back up at Aang.
"It's a risk I'm willing to take."
"There aren't a lot you aren't," Aang grumbled.
But he followed suit, jumping to land softly next to Zuko. They took two more flights of stairs that way, quietly as they could, falling quickly into a rhythm with each other. Aang felt vividly reminded of his time as Zhao's prisoner and Zuko's rescue of him in the guise of the Blue Spirit. But, much as he didn't like this whole situation, it was far more comfortable than then. For one, Zuko didn't have any swords to hold to Aang's throat and for two, Aang knew he wouldn't do that even if he had the chance.
That was kinda nice.
They reached the base of the conning tower and the network of doors exiting in every direction. The one to the crew quarters was fully open and the hallway beyond was completely quiet. Not exactly a good sign, when Aang thought about it. The door to go down held back sounds of machinery and distinctly human noise. And the one to the side, the one to the deck and the wide blue sky, was open a tantalizing crack. Just enough to give Aang a glimpse before Zuko tugged him forward.
The door burst open under Zuko's hand, knocking him backwards into Aang. Recovering, they looked up into the face of the looming figure stepping up into the stairwell.
The pirate was stout and strong looking. Unlike the unfortunate pirate they'd left upstairs, he did not wear cobbled together armor – or any armor at all. He wore the loose green on green hanfu common across the Earth Kingdom, his black hair partially shaved and tied back in a queue. Next to him stood a man in worn, weather beaten gray. Aang had the feeling that it had once been blue and the sight of a seal-bone necklace around the man's neck all but confirmed that he'd at least ventured up north, if nothing else. Rounding out the three, imposing pirates that faced Aang and Zuko in the tight, uncomfortably crowded stairwell was a man with glinting brown eyes and a Fire Nation style sword.
If not for the fact that they were mean and deadly looking pirates, Aang would have been cheered by the obvious show of international harmony.
The man in the center frowned at them. He looked scanned them up and down, taking in the maps they'd both tucked into their waistbands – lacking the sleeves Aang normally would have stuff them into – and then fixing on their faces.
"Aren't you…?" he began.
Aang wished wholeheartedly that there had been shirts upstairs. He felt very exposed at the moment, particularly around the tattoo area. Thankfully, the pirate's gaze was currently aimed more at Zuko than him, which was odd since Aang sort of thought Zuko looked unremarkable without his scar. Of course, he didn't really know what Fire Lord Ozai looked like. Maybe the looks ran in the family.
"Pirates!" Zuko cut in frantically. "Yes! We're pirates. Stealing from you. Fellow pirates."
Aang resisted the urge to smack his hand against his forehead. Zuko was a genuinely terrible liar. Of course, that didn't run in the family.
The pirate captain was tapping his forefinger against his chin, expression thoughtful as he looked at them. Two of his crew had joined them in the stairwell, making it very cramped. They shifted on their feet, looking impatient for battle as their captain dithered.
"No, that's not it. You look familiar."
"I've just got one of those faces," Zuko deadpanned.
Really, not helping.
"You probably remember us from all the pirating we've done. We're really infamous." The captain didn't seem to buy it, so Aang decided to go for the hard sell. "Arrrr."
The pirate next to the captain – lanky, sallow and bearing more tattoos than Aang had seen outside of his home temple – twitched at the word. He gave a nearly incoherent cry, launching himself at them.
"I hate being stereotyped!"
Zuko grappled with the man, while the other two attacked, forcing Aang out onto the deck. They squinted in the harsh light of day, sunlight bouncing off the gleaming metal deck, while Aang brought his staff to bear. He was hesitant to airbend when they didn't seem to know who he was, but without earth or water he could use, he didn't have many alternatives. Although…
With a mental shrug, he struck out with the staff itself, sweeping the legs out from under his opponent. The staff trembled at the impact, but didn't crack, and Aang figured that was good enough. He twirled it around in a wide arc, forcing the captain back into the doorway. Aang could easily see several more pirates behind him, just waiting for the chance to join the fight. As long as Aang held his ground, they'd be trapped.
Of course, that wasn't what they wanted at all. They couldn't afford to be locked in a stalemate and as much as Aang didn't want to hurt anyone, he kind of needed to hurt them a little. Just enough to knock them out and prevent them from undoing Zuko's hard work fixing their rudder.
"How's it going?" Aang asked Zuko. His eyes flicked to the side, where Zuko had wrestled the pirate to the ground.
"Fine."
It was more of a grunt than an answer. Despite himself, Aang felt his foot start to tap impatiently on the deck. The captain looked like he thought this was an opportunity and Aang struck out at him to disabuse him of that idea. Not yet, buddy.
"Can you hurry it up? There's something I want to try."
Zuko nodded and punched the pirate one last, definitive time. The man released Zuko, slumping woozily down onto the deck. Zuko stood, dusting himself off. Signaling for Zuko to back off, Aang retreated onto the deck. The captain gave him a briefly, confused look before surging forward. Aang stayed out of reach and Zuko matched pace.
The pirates just kept coming, one after another coming up from below. They clearly thought, with their superior numbers, that they didn't even need to bother attacking. The captain himself threw out a hand, telling them to keep the line, although two of the pirates snarled and dodged forward anyway. Just what Aang had been hoping for.
He nudged Zuko in the side and, wordlessly, they went into action. Zuko grimly kicked out a broad arc of fire, enough to make the pirates jump back, before pressing his palm to the deck to heat the swathe of metal between them. Aang ran to the edge of the ship, peering over only briefly to make sure Ran was a safe distance away before bending up a great waterspout to dump directly onto the superheated deck. Steam hissed off the deck, enveloping the entire ship in a hot, dense cloud.
Zuko smirked, catching Aang's eye.
"Time to go?"
Oh yeah. Well past time.
Aang leaned his weight onto his back foot pulling at the water beneath the boat with a wide circle of his arms. He pressed his palms flat, smoothing the water as he froze it into the shape of a slide. He bowed to Zuko, gesturing overboard.
"Royalty first."
Zuko shot a look back toward the fog entrapped pirates.
"I guess it's a step up from 'hotman'," he grumbled. He planted his hands on the rail of the deck and neatly jumped down onto the slide, feet keeping contact as he all but surfed down to Ran.
Aang followed on his heels, jumping directly with a softened swirl of wind guiding him gently to the dragon. As soon as he was safely on her back, he struck out with his staff, shattering the slide. Shards of ice fell into the ocean, beating against the side of the metal ship with crystal clinks. Aang tilted his head to the side as he watched them, an idea forming in his mind. Okay, so they hadn't gotten below decks to make the second weld, and maybe it wouldn't hold perfectly, but it was worth a shot.
"Aang, what are you –?" Zuko started.
Aang tuned him out, closing his eyes. He pushed aside his worries – that ever nagging dread that he was falling behind, that he was losing the war; his fear for his friends; his fear for the future, for what he was becoming as the Avatar. Above those concerns was the freedom of detachment, the flow of his former lives and their wisdom, coursing above him almost as if a river. He dipped into it. His eyes snapped open and in the corner of his vision, he could see the glow of his tattoos.
With a breath, he pulled at the ocean, forming a great swell underneath the ship. He could see the rudder and propeller, with a strange curiosity born of a hundred lives that had seen so many things, but never a thing such as this. His will firm, he froze the rudder in place and then, flicking his hand, sent the wave outward with no more effort than he would a drop of water on his fingertip.
Zuko was looking at him with an expression Aang couldn't place – not like this – so he came back, letting the power and crowded identity of the Avatar State go. Oh. It was worry. Zuko was worried for him.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"I'm great," Aang said. He leaned back on Ran, happy to feel her sun-warmed scales beneath his hands. He angled a look to Zuko. "You know, I'm sick of the ocean."
Zuko chuckled.
"I know just what you mean."
He slid forward to Ran's head, hands stroking her as he gently guided her up. She rose from the water, flapping her wings as she held steady. Aang stood and pulled the water from the humid air around them into tight bundles, building a cloud around them. Zuko nudged Ran with his legs and then they were up like a shot; it was all Aang could do to keep their cloud-cover together, but he wouldn't have slowed down for anything.
A/N: Thanks for sticking with me, guys. Just one chapter left!