Important!!!: I've put up a new poll on my profile that I believe will be helpful in the continuing updates of this fic. Please vote. Thank you.
It's been... 3 months. For 5,986 words? Pathetic.
Alright then. This one took a really long time to spit out, and it's not even half of what I normally spit out, after all that. I'm sorry for the wait, and even more for the craptastic short chapter, but I figured that if I kept rewriting and rewriting until it was my customary 9000, I'd never get put out. So just keep in mind that while this chapter may be less-than-lovely in the standard terms, it's crucial in that a lot of stuff is happening and the next chapter will probably end up being twice as long. And twice as action-packed. Exciting, exciting!
A low rumble like the growl of a malevolent beast echoed throughout the heavy and storm-laden clouds. Crackling lightning flashed low on the horizon. Dozens of crows alighted from their perches amongst the night-darkened banyon trees as though sensing danger. Somewhere on the overgrown leafy mountain a jaguarpanda's golden eyes darted up from its fallen prey to reflect the sharp glow of the fires lit by those humans who were not meant to be there. As the connection from the world of the living to the spirit world, Aang could also sense a vague feeling of wrongness that had crept in with dusk's fog, but being seated in a human form, he couldn't for the life of him figure out what had him awake in the dead hours of morning.
The smooth silken fibers of the Sun Warrior-made sheet clung to his sweaty back in large sections like a second – and more sticky – skin, and crumpled into an itchy ball around his back and sides when he moved to sit up. A fat drop of sweat slid down his forehead and narrowly avoided his half-open eye.
The thing about the Fire Nation, he had quickly discovered, was that although their weather was more volatile than their tempers, the air was always hot and humid.
He shook his head vainly to try to dislodge the lightheaded feeling not enough sleep had caused and glanced out through the open stone doorway towards the fires still burning in the courtyard, despite the incredibly early hour. Three tired-looking men, swathed in armor that resembled a primitive version of the Fire Nation militia's today, stood sentinel at three of the four forners in the open area. Aang watched with sleepy interest as one of the men yawned widely before scratching himself between the thin plates of armor.
Aang shuddered, eyes flitting back to the confines of his room.
Four cream colored stone walls with a large rectangle cut out of one to form a doorway. He'd spent many a night in much worse, and despite the fact that it was nice to have a bed that wasn't bended from stone (no matter how well Toph Earth-bent it), Aang still found himself missing the Western Air Temple. After so many nights spent in close quarters with Sokka and Katara, and later Toph, it was strange and a little bit unsettling to sleep alone. He had grown used to Sokka's heavy open-mouthed breathing and the light fresh smell of Katara's hair on the pillow next to his. Without these small reminders, Aang felt that he was more alone than he had ever been, like he had been when he had ran from Monk Gyatso all those years ago.
He wondered if they would be asleep at this moment, Katara and Sokka snuggled up close together in the sibling love he had always secretly envied. With their father trapped by the Fire Nation they fought, they were all they had left of the once cozy and loving family.
All Aang had was the memory of a kindhearted man that had died nearly one hundred years ago, bones turned to dust in decades long past.
Toph wouldn't let their absence faze her, he knew, and the only proof that she missed them would be in the way she cuddled up in the thick blankets she had adopted from her favorite Firebender. They were close – obscenely close for Toph – and Aang was slightly jealous of that bond too, but couldn't find it in himself to resent the firebender for the closeness that the toughest member of their group shared. Both benders came from high-class families that just couldn't understand them, and Zuko really did deserve to have a younger sister that didn't want to really kill him.
Aang's thoughts wandered to Zuko, who he had blown up at earlier on that evening.
He hadn't meant to get so worked up, honestly. It had just been the culmination of the stress of having to learn firebending on top of earthbending and waterbending, the threat of world domination via Zuko's own father, and the growing unease he had felt when he had found Zuko outside their camp that morning, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth and fingers that had tried to wipe the sickness away. Aang couldn't help but be worried because of that, coupled with the ex-prince's inability to bend his natural element.
It was obvious that this – whatever it was that Zuko was fighting off to the point of blood – had been going on for quite some time. Now that he had the benefit of knowledge, he could think of several occasions where Zuko's refusal of food should've brought on more concern than it had, or the dizzy spells more worry. Aang knew without asking that Zuko hadn't told anyone of whatever was ailing him, and wasn't planning on doing so anytime soon.
At least they had parted for bed on better terms. Still, he couldn't help but feel a stab of fear at the thought of the Fire Nation teen going through another miserable morning alone.
His mind made up, Aang crept to the doorway, making sure to keep as close to the shadows possible while he bended enough air between his feet and the floor to keep his footsteps silent. There wasn't any definite reason he could think of that he shouldn't be seen leaving the room – or in conjunction, entering Zuko's – but the feeling burned in his chest regardless, and he had grown used to the idea that his gut feelings shouldn't be ignored.
The early morning watch was easy to slip by, seeing as the one was fixated on getting at the itch creeping along the inside of his thigh and the other two had their heads leaning back against the wall, eyes facing vaguely in the up direction. He thought vaguely for a moment that maybe the Sun Warriors shouldn't appoint someone as a guard unless they were actually going to be guarding like one would expect, but he was never someone to look a gift-ostrichhorse in the mouth.
He passed by three different open corridor styled, tree-lined archways without seeing anything that screamed "Hey, Zuko's in here!"
He would've settled for a whisper, even.
Still, all was not lost. The first rays of sun crept in through the gaps of the tree-covered mountains. They had been gone for two days already. How many days had Zuko told Sokka and Katara that they'd be gone for? He couldn't remember, but with the actual Sun Warriors still inhabiting the supposedly abandoned structures, Aang figured that they'd probably end up spending an extra day or two talking to the ancient tribe alone.
A low thump echoed a few archways down, followed by what sounded like a few angrily whispered words, and Aang froze in front of the archway he had been in the middle of peering down. Moments later, the light clip-clap of a pair of heels whisked around the corner up ahead, and Aang was forced to duck behind a large purple clematis to avoid being seen. He caught sight of the young woman's determinedly straight back and black hair piled regally in a tight bun at the back of her head before she strode through the archway he had left only minutes earlier.
I wonder what she's so angry about...
When it didn't look like the other perpetrator of the argument was going to come storming his way as well, Aang left the relative safety of the archway and began wandering down the hall once again. That off-putting feeling had morphed from a tickle to a sap-like sludge of discomfort, sliding down his back at the thought of his firebending friend.
Aang sped up his pace down the narrow hallway area, using his airbending again to ensure that his footsteps would remain silent despite his urgency. If there was any one thing he could thank Monk Gyatsu for, it was the practicality in his first-learned element. Long before any of the other airbending students had progressed to forming swirls, Monk Gyatsu had him suspending himself on lofts of air, dashing about the precariously built monestary as silent and swiftly as the most graceful of long-hared gazelle. The grandfatherly old man had always sagely stated that "the strong sabertooth mooselion may wear its enemy down with pure force, but the silent rabbitfox needs not even to unsheathe its claws."
It didn't seem like that philosophy had done much for the race in the end, though. Silent like the moonlit shadows, Aang had nearly reached the doorway to the ex-prince's room when a heavy hand descended upon his shoulder.
"It is late in the night to be out of bed, young Avatar."
The wizened face of the Sun Warrior Chief regarded him for a moment – his wiry muscles clenched in surprise, hovering suspiciously outside a doorway far from his own with reddened cheeks from obvious embarrassment at being caught – and the hand on his shoulder clenched imperceptibly against the light cotton of his night shirt. Aang swallowed sharply against his will.
"I was just... ah, I mean—"
The hand not hooked over his shoulder raised in a placating gesture, although his tense, lowered eyebrows did nothing to settle Aang's fraying nerves. "Many creatures wander the night, and not many of them are intent on your well-being." Again that hand clenched, and it took all of Aang's willpower not to flinch away from the intimidating man. "Do you understand?"
Aang startled from his intent staring at the ground beneath his feet, finally meeting the trenchant gold eyes of the tribal leader. Intense ochre flooded his vision, and for a moment he could feel that the older man's burning anger was directed at something that encompassed much more than just the annoying airbender that had a penchant for sneaking around in the early hours of morning. His vocal chords refused to untie themselves from the knot the strong emotion had tied them in, and Aang could only nod numbly as that strong hand turned him with a certain gentleness towards the courtyard.
He took one last desperate glance toward the dark doorway where his firebending friend resided before submitting to the gentle hand and the silent promise of the morning ahead.
It was only after several cups of pungent herbal tea drunk around a warm, early morning fire that it occurred to Aang that the other person in the argument with the angry young woman must've been the Chief himself. After all, no one else was anywhere near the area, and that would have explained how the Chief was close enough to see the silent shadow of the airbender. He knew that given the circumstances, Zuko would've told him to leave it alone, but if Aang was anything he was curious, and the thought nagged on the back of his mind for several long moments before the fire before he let them come tumbling out.
"What were you and that girl arguing about? She looked really angry at you..."
The Chief paused with his hand raised to bend the fire for half a heartbeat, and gave the flames a purposeful push in height before he allowed himself to look down his nose at the young boy sitting cross-legged on the ground across from him. In the orange-pink glows from both the newly rejuvenated fire and the sun barely an hour born from the horizon, the frown lines left gray streaks across the tanned skin. "That's no business of yours."
"I was just wondering – I mean, you are the Chief and—"
"She craves power," the older man admitted, hand reaching out behind him to gingerly guide him to a flat spot on the wooden logs for a seat. His knees popped with age as he sighed heavily, position found. "That's what's wrong with the world today. The young are not meant to hold any amount of power, or they hunger for more all too quickly." The Chief scrubbed his calloused palms across his squinted eyes. "She believes that she will be a better leader than her father."
"Wait," Aang interrupted, "is she your daughter?"
"No. But she does intend to take over our village."
While Aang tried to decipher how the leadership of the Sun Warrior people was passed on through the generations, the sun crept up all the higher through the morning mist, turning the ruins – which Aang was now hesitant to call ruins, given the fact that the ancient peoples still obviously inhabited them – to a magnificent gold. He wouldn't have been surprised if the stones themselves had gold flecks imbedded in them. The spiritual Airbender Monks had ironically done the same thing.
Just as the sun was level with the top of the tallest temple, creating a halo-like glow around the point, a long string of Sun Warriors stalked through the wide courtyard entrances. They surrounded the two sitting benders silently, arms held behind their backs and pointedly not looking either of them in the eye. The Chief sighed heavily, getting to his feet with a groan and holding out a wide hand for Aang to take.
"It is daylight. Now you can be tested to learn the true secret of firebending."
The words were meant to be ominous, that much was obvious. However, the Chief had a glint in his eye that suggested otherwise, and Aang felt the corners of his mouth twitch into a grin.
Aang obediently followed the Chief up the steep stone steps on the tallest temple, feeling vaguely like he was about to walk directly into the sun. Dug into what he had assumed was the top from the ground was a large crater, surrounded by golden stone that tapered into an archway overhead. A gigantic roaring fire sat pleasantly in the bowl, and the Chief patiently explained that the fire had been given to man from the dragons, and that the Sun Warriors had kept it going for as long as they had the gift of firebending – for thousands of years. Then the man scooped a flame from it like a rock from a pile, and moved to deposit it in the nervous airbender's hands.
"Uh, Mr. Sun Chief, sir... I'm not exactly a firebender yet..."
"There is nothing to worry about," the man tried to be patient and placating, but there was an edge to his voice that hadn't been there all morning. "You are the Avatar, are you not? But you must maintain a constant heat – not enough, and the flame will go out. Too much, and it could devour you."
Aang wasn't too afraid of giving the fire too much energy – he didn't even know how he was supposed to give it energy! – but he reached forward tentatively nonetheless. The flame slid effortlessly from the Chief's hands to his own, and he smiled faintly as the warm little ball hovered over his hands. It pulsated slightly in time with his pounding heart, and he voiced this opinion mindlessly.
"It's... like a little heartbeat."
"Fire is life," the Chief agreed, chastising him almost," not just destruction." He turned slightly to point wearily towards the top of a nearby mountain, split directly down the middle in what appeared to be a gigantic earthquake, or maybe earthbender attack. "That's where you will take your flame. The cave of the Masters is underneath that rock. I will meet you up there."
The Sun Warrior peoples filed down the steps after their Chief, and Aang was left gaping at the spot they had previously vacated. They expected him to be able to get all the way up the mountain on his own? While trying to maintain some really old fire?? He judged the distance mentally in his head, and groaned at the prospect of having to walk that distance with the deadliest element clasped between his shaking hands. Normally the distance wouldn't be a problem – hundreds of meters could be crossed in the space of a second on his glider – but his glider needed both hands to be operational, and he didn't want to risk catching his trusty glider on fire, thousands of years old or not. Still, there was no time like the present, and so he too began following the procession down the temple steps.
At the bottom he turned away from the group, heading towards the towering peaks. No one had specifically mentioned a time restraint, but that didn't mean there wasn't one, and there was no way he was going to miss learning the secret of firebending because he was slow. Still, after nearly an hour's time and only half way up the mossy mountain, he was forced to admit that maybe he was being a bit too cautious with the quickly dwindling fire.
He tried to imagine what Sokka would tell him to do in this instance. "Call it quits, Aang. There's no way that fire-magic is worth this much effort. Besides, water puts out fire, right? You don't need firebending to defeat the Fire Lord. You and Katara just need to drop a tsunami on him!"
Somehow he didn't think much of imaginary-Sokka's advice was relevant.
Mental-Katara piped up, "C'mon, Aang, you can do it! It's just a hill, right? And that jerk isn't with you, so cheer up!"
Fictional-Toph would be angry at the very suggestion of weakness, so he blocked out those thoughts before they could even begin.
The one voice that he let cascade over him, however, was that of Zuko, who had been left behind. "Hurry up. Your flame is going to go out because it's too small... you're too timid. Give it more juice. You can do it. I know you can. You're a talented kid." He could just imagine the slight smile that would creep up in those golden eyes, and he felt horrible.
Aang knew that Zuko had been excited to meet the masters, and even more excited to finally learn the true secret of where his bending had come from – and when it had come down to it, Aang had opted to go on without Zuko, just because the Sun Warriors had forbidden the ex-prince to learn of it. Of course, he had promised Zuko that he would tell him exactly what happened, and would teach him himself if he had to, but it was hardly any condolence.
By the time Aang had grudgingly accepted his semi-betrayal, he was surprised to find that the trail had leveled out some, and it was only another couple hundred yards before he was standing on the marble-floored plateau, facing the Sun Warriors and yet another set of towering stone steps. If he hadn't been so nervous about meeting – and essentially being judged by the Masters – he probably would've complained at the prospect of ascending yet again.
The Sun Warrior Chief met him before the stairs, and reached towards the fire barely held in Aang's shaking hands. For a moment Aang was relieved – it was a struggle to maintain the fire for such a long time and distance – but then the Chief stepped away with only half of Aang's previously large flame, and he resigned himself to carrying around this flame forever. Part of the Chief's fire was passed on to one of the waiting Sun Warriors, and within seconds, the entire plateau was surrounded by glowing wreaths of flame. Aang noticed that another Warrior stood behind each of the flame-bearing Warriors, and he wondered whether they were there in case the first one got tired of holding the flame. He could relate.
Both Aang and the Chief began the long ascent.
"Do not look at me. Don't react."
It took a second for the harsh whispered words to process, but once they had, it took all of Aang's will not to jump away from the older man who was determinedly staring forward as they went up the steep steps. The Chief's hands twitched around his fire, but the flame remained full and strong. Aang looked back down at the ground as they kept walking.
"You must learn the secret to Firebending," he whispered haltingly, all movement of the mouth imperceptible to anyone but Aang. "I hope you understand and can forgive me."
"For–forgive you for what?"
"I couldn't do anything to endanger my people, at least not until I was sure that you would know enough about Firebending to defeat the Fire Lord."
The Chief wasn't telling him everything... "Endanger them...?"
"The daughter of the Fire Lord is in the village."
Despite the steady walking pace and the forced-even breathing that never even hitched due to his airbending mastery, Aang felt as though the world both fell out of place and clicked, all at the same time. Suddenly, the comment about the girl not being his daughter, yet wanting to run the village; the high-and-mighty way she had held herself; the out-of-place looking guards, all made sense. As though sensing Aang's confusion and frustration, the Chief swiftly removed a sharp blade from an inner pocket mid-stride, and Aang was positive that from their angle, none of the Sun Warriors below could have noticed it. The older man held it slightly in between them, and after a moment to weed through the sharp glare from the sun, Aang could clearly see in the reflection of the angled blade that the men previously wielding the fire were kneeling before their guards, hands clasped behind their heads in surrender to the men looming behind them.
"But.. why...?"
"The Fire Princess may be foolish to believe that she can harness the power of the Sun Warriors for long, but even she knows better than to risk losing the secret to perfect Firebending. You are the Avatar... the Masters will not deny you. She knows that if she waits for you to unlock the secret first, all she has to do is plunder the treasure after taking care of you." They were rapidly gaining distance, and the Chief's words came faster and faster as they lost more and more time.
"Then why didn't she just go to see them?" Directly after he asked it, he knew that it was a rather stupid question. Azula was anything if not unprepared.
"She was adamant against her brother – your sickly firebending friend, I believe? – learning of the secret. That young woman is highly paranoid. If she owned a pet ferrethampster, I'd suspect that she'd quickly kill it to prevent it taking her place on the throne. We were quick to agree with her sentiments."
"So... you told her the Masters would hate her for what her ancestors did? Just like you did with Zuko?"
"Exactly."
Aang was relieved, but only infinitesimally. The Masters hadn't have really hated Zuko, which would make the older boy feel a lot better, he was sure. However, it did mean that his sister was trying to ruin his life again, which wouldn't be viewed with the same happiness. He didn't have much time to think about the ethics of family, though, as seconds later they were standing on the narrow bridge, a good hundred feet or so up in the air.
The Sun Warrior Chief turned away from Aang, following the line of the bridge until he was standing in the center, facing a large cave in the giant mountain that wasn't visible from the ground. He bent over slightly, holding the fire out before him as though he was preparing to feed a sabertooth mooselion. After staring awkwardly for several moments, the man coughed pointedly, and Aang was quick to follow his lead, facing the cave in the opposing mountain wall.
Far below them, one of the Sun Warriors not being restrained blew a loud horn. The sound echoed throughout the valley.
All of a sudden, a rumble followed that horn and dust flew from each opening, as though the rocks inside were caving in. His hands shook from the unexpected sound, and he could feel the fire seemingly drip through the cracks of his hands, his own energy no longer being enough to keep the flame going. The burning drops fell nearly to his knees before they slowed, turned, and lazily looped back around his arms to rest in his hands once more. A small smirk stole across the Chief's turned face.
The rumbling grew much louder, and a whooshing sound took up his ears. A gigantic red dragon flew at him from inside the cave before him, flying up to loop around the pair menacingly. The Chief did not even tense.
Another dragon – blue this time – flew from the cave before the older man, and joined it's brethren in wide circles around the two that reminded Aang fiercely of vulturewasps awaiting prey. The two dragons spun complicated circles around both of them, diving and twisting in different arrangements every trip around, and for a moment, Aang thought that maybe – just maybe – they were dancing with each other.
"D— Do they want us to dance with them?" He asked mutedly to the Chief, feeling all at once that it was both a good idea and stupid thought.
"It is good to know that not all young are as foolish as the Princess down below."
Slowly, so as to let Aang keep up with the complicated movements, the Sun Warrior Chief began to perform the Dancing Dragon. When their arms rose sharply in the air, the dragons flew up in response. When they crouched low, the dragons dipped to the movements. Each long, nerve-filled step seemed to take a lifetime, but it was probably only seconds before they came to the end, closed fists meeting back in the same spots they had started from.
Only after they were both done, did Aang allow himself to actually look at the dragons themselves. They were hovering before them on either side, sharp eyes and even sharper teeth gleaming in the early morning light. He figured this must be judgment.
He could only hope that he had done alright.
Finally, both dragons reached out with long claws and pulled their long bodies from the skies, coiling along the stone step sides until they were in the opportune position to... do something, what, Aang had no clue.
He could only assume that he had failed, as the dragons opened their gleaming mouths, great plumes of fire flying towards them, by them, all around them.
And yet, he couldn't feel a thing.
It was as though the gods had taken all the fiery colors of the sunset and sunrise combined and wrapped them up in a wonderfully warm ribbon around the two of them. There was so many more colors than Aang had ever seen, twisting together, making eachother more beautiful, living together. It was Firebending harmony – energy and life. Like there was a small sun growing within him, fueled not by anger and hate, but by passion and inner warmth.
He wished Zuko could see it.
As quick as it started, it was over, and the dragons finished their spirals in the sky to fly back into their tight caves in the mountain walls. The Chief turned and grabbed his arm, pulling him over to a long pole that had been lying off to the side, ignored for the most part until now due to his jumping nerves.
"My glider!"
"Take it and fly away," the Chief urged him, handing him the slender length of light wood with both hands. He pointed out beyond a large grassy hill. "Your sky bison is still safe, beyond that ridge. The Princess doesn't know of it."
"I can't," Aang denied desperately despite the eager way he had accepted his glider. "I can't leave without Zuko!"
The Chief stared him down sternly, understanding and demanding all at once. "It's too late for him. The Fire Princess had him sent away last night, right after you separated. He's likely halfway to The Boiling Rock by now."
"No...." He had just learned the secret to Firebending. Things were looking up again! This couldn't be happening...
Except it was happening.
Down on the plateau, Azula had obviously decided that she was done patiently waiting, and with only the small wave of a regal hand, a dozen or so balls of fire were soaring at them from all sides. Aang's first instinct was to throw his arms out to Airbend the danger away. However, as they got nearer, he could feel the energies of their fire flowing around him, and it only took the slightest change in stance to go from Airbending away the issue to controlling it, bending it, and he could finally understand the rush Zuko claimed to feel when bending large amounts of his element. It wasn't anything like Airbending, nor Waterbending or Earthbending. Airbending and Waterbending focused more on pushing and pulling an already constantly moving element, and it was hardly ever precise. Earthbending was a pure strength of will, that much Toph had clearnly driven in.
Firebending, however, was pure emotion – something he had been warned not to let control him in conjunction with his other elements. When a nearby ball came yards from his head, it only took one swipe to create his own flame to slice the offending one in two. He sent the next two back towards their senders, who veered them carelessly off into the mossy valley. A tree caught fire and in seconds, three around it were up in flames as well.
Aang looked to the Chief for guidance, only to find him struggling to hold back a barrage of fire himself. He glanced down at the glider clutched tight in one hand.
"Hurry!"
Aang nodded sadly, taking one last look at the nearly-overwhelmed leader before releasing the button that would transform the handy staff to an even handier glider and taking off over the edge of the fire-laden mountainside.
The last glimpse he caught of the ancient people, before his small glider took him over the cusp of the grassy hill, was of a city in flames, it's Chief glaring defiantly up at an infuriated Azula.
The first time he thought he had regained consciousness, his world had tossed about side to side, darkness all-encompassing.
The second time hadn't been much more pleasant, but he had at least been able to catch a few glimpses of rotten wood and rusted steel chains before the rocking of the sea had put him under once again.
And as the feeling slowly began to creep like a hungry colony of spiderants up from his toes to his legs, Zuko wondered if this time would be any better. It was obvious by the way he was no longer swaying side to side, and the cold concrete underneath his cheek, that he was no longer on a ship. Judging by the shadows of light playing across his closed eyelids, hadn't been for quite a while.
An overwhelming smell – somewhere between mold and rotten sealpig meat – slunk in past his defenses, and he raised his hand towards his face to rub at his offended nose.
Clink
Freezing cold metal bit against his wrist, and kept his hands sturdily by his sides. He frowned, squinting his eyes shut against both the rancid odor and the uncomfortable feeling of being chained to the concrete ground. Why did everything bad have to happen to him?
"Well, well. What do we have here?"
Zuko allowed his weary eyes to remain closed for an extra moment. Of course they couldn't just leave him alone.... Eventually he let his blurry sight focus on the man reclined languidly in the corner of his small cell, everything but the tan fingers of the dirty hands resting on his knees in the cover of shadow. Tons of tiny scars littered the digits, and Zuko knew that this was no Firebender. Judging from the skin tone, he wasn't even Fire Nation. As he watched tiredly, the man stood, shadow slinking back to leave just the ghost of those long hands dipping into the wide pockets of prison-issued garb.
"Can't..." Zuko began, coughing roughly when his vocal chords vehemently protested any attempt at speech. "Can't you just leave me alone?"
"No can do," the man replied easily, vowels stretched oddly as though he wasn't used to talking in such a way. "I can't stand people who betray me." As he spoke, he tore a crumpled piece of parchment from his pocket, slapping it fiercely against the rough stone of the only flat surface in the room – the bed. It was a wanted poster from nearly a year before, back when he had had his hair shewn short, the flyer still depicting it in its traditional Fire Nation high ponytail.
Someone was always trying to blame something on him....
"Whatever it is that you've got against the Fire Nation, I didn't do anything to you."
"Is that what you think, Prince Zuko?" the man taunted, stepping forward out of the shadow to where Zuko could finally see his face. The smirk was the same. The disheveled hair was the same. The severe eyebrows were still dominating much of the other's face. The only thing missing was his signature sprig of wheat, which Zuko knew Jet had even slept with – prior to going crowbatshit insane, of course.
"Or should I say, Lee?"
Okay. Yeah. I couldn't kill off Jet. I heart him. I really do.
As usual, review!