Chapter 11 - Indecision and Teaching
Very early the next morning, hours before sunrise, Zuko was unceremoniously awakened by a rhythmic tapping somewhere outside the house.
He was curled on his side with his arms tightly crossed against his chest, as if in his sleep he'd been attempting to alleviate the hollowness by coiling tightly around it. It didn't really work; his chest hurt regardless of what position he was in.
He'd been jolted from a dream where Katara was alone and upset, running through the swamp as if she were being chased by demons. It took a moment for him to regain his equanimity, and once he did, he remained still, listening intently.
He heard the echo of lumbering footsteps, a door swung open, and then there was the low rumble of an unfamiliar voice. He heard Ming-Na hum a reply, something he couldn't make out, and then the door snapped shut.
Two sets of footsteps reverberated closer and closer, and every muscle in Zuko's body tensed, ready for fight or flight.
Had Ming-Na figured out who he was? Did the villagers decide that they didn't want to tolerate him after all? Had Azula found him?
The door to his room slid open carefully, and Zuko clenched both hands into fists that were ready to burst into flame at a moment's notice…
"You have to be quiet, I have a patient here resting-" whispered Ming-Na.
The tension slowly drained from Zuko's body at the realization that they weren't here for him. He lay still.
"Sure, sorry about this," the other voice was deeper; a man.
"Sit here," Ming-Na ordered.
There was the light scrape of a chair being pushed back, the sound of trickling water, and then a sharp intake of breath.
"These burns… it's bad. How did this happen?" murmured Ming-Na.
Burns?
Zuko resisted the urge to turn over and look.
"…Akai," whispered the man heavily.
The answer must have made sense to Ming-Na because she made a sympathetic sound.
"You know how he's afraid of the dark? He-" the man suddenly hissed through his teeth as though something had hurt him.
"Sorry, I know it stings, but I have to disinfect it. Hold still," whispered Ming-Na apologetically.
The room was quiet except for the gentle sound of lapping water, and sliding cloth.
"What were you saying about Akai? He's afraid of the dark?" murmured Ming-Na a few minutes later. Zuko deduced that Akai must be a child.
"Yes. He accidentally set fire to his bedclothes when he tried to light a candle. The more upset and afraid he got, the more the fire seemed to grow. I swear, it was like a living thing…" the man trailed off hoarsely. Zuko knew from personal experience that fire responded to emotions - particularly strong emotions - if a bender was inexperienced or lacked control.
Does that mean…
"So you're certain?" questioned Ming-Na urgently, mirroring Zuko's thoughts.
"Yes. He must be a firebender," the man said firebender as if it was a horrible contagious disease, and Zuko internally bristled.
Having a bender in the family brought pride and honor in the Firenation… and then he remembered why there were firebenders here in an Earth Kingdom village in the first place, and his ire was immediately snuffed out.
"He can't control it… it frightens him. There isn't anyone to teach him… what can we do?" the man muttered hopelessly.
Can't control it… it frightens him…
The statement hit Zuko like a punch in the gut. It was surprising to him just how much it distressed him.
Firebending was an extension of himself, Zuko couldn't imagine being afraid of it any more than he could imagine being afraid of his own limbs.
Bending was freedom, bending was joy. It felt deeply wrong to him for a bender to be afraid of their ability.
"I've been lucky with Ila. We've had mishaps, but… well, you know what she's like."
A heavy silence settled between the pair.
"There, that's the best I can do for now," whispered Ming-Na eventually.
The chair scraped back, and the floor boards creaked as they left the room.
"You'll have to come back sometime tomorrow evening so I can put another poultice on it, as well as some fresh bandages-" The door slid shut behind them, and Ming-Na's speech was cut off.
Zuko listened to their footsteps trail away. The man left the house, and the floorboards creaked as Ming-Na padded back to her room heavily.
The house was silent once more, but Zuko lay awake in contemplation.
I was easy to decide to leave, no abandon, the children when Ming-Na had spoken about them in general terms. When he was still reeling from her revelation.
The only one he'd met, Ila, was such an outspoken and precocious child that it had been easy to rationalize that she would be okay. That Katara needed him more.
He wasn't so sure anymore.
As a Prince of the Firenation, he had a duty to his people, and the children who were firebenders were his people. The acts that had brought them into existence were pure evil, an awful stain upon the honor of the Firenation, and he felt honor-bound to try and make up for what had happened, impossible though it may be.
On the other hand, Katara needed him, and he yearned for her presence. Did she make it out of the swamp? He told her he'd find her. Their group was a magnet for trouble, it was only a matter of time before someone or something tried to kill or capture them.
What was the right thing to do? Stay and teach, or leave and search?
What would Katara do…
"I deserve to learn how to defend myself!" she'd screamed at Master Pakku. It was obvious that she'd been starving to learn her whole life... The answer of what she would do came to him easily.
She would stay and teach them… I should stay and teach them.
The void in his chest protested swiftly and violently, making Zuko curl into a tighter ball, and bite his lip hard enough to draw blood.
And then another factor occurred to him, Azula. She was probably searching for him. The longer he stayed in one place, the more likely she was to catch up with him. He didn't want these people to get caught in the inevitable crossfire. They'd been through enough.
He suddenly wished he could speak with Iroh.
Iroh would give him a cup of tea and a proverb. Before, he'd hated Iroh's proverbs. They never made any sense, and why couldn't the old man just say what he meant plainly?
He never would have thought that he'd give almost anything to hear another proverb, to be offered a soothing cup of jasmine tea.
He missed Iroh's steady presence almost as much as he longed for Katara. He wished he'd listened to Iroh's advice when he'd had the chance.
Now he was on his own.
He tentatively made a decision…
I'll stay long enough to show them the basics.
He gasped as his chest felt like it was being crushed in a vice-like grip. He clawed at it, desperate to alleviate the pressure, he couldn't breathe. Apparently his decision wasn't acceptable to the chasm.
I'll only stay for a few days, long enough to teach them control. I owe them that much, and then I'll leave. He thought desperately.
The pressure eased enough to allow him to suck in greedy gulps of air. He took it as tacit permission for his chosen course of action.
Why does everything have to be so difficult? he thought morosely.
He rolled over and tried to get more sleep, but it was no use.
He lay awake until he heard the tell-tale sounds of the family starting their day.
When he got out of bed, he was pleased to find that he was strong enough to walk under his own power. He was still shaky, but no longer in any danger of passing out.
For the first time since arriving, he ventured out of the room they'd put him in.
The home beyond the room painted the picture of a family that lived frugally; it was sparse and threadbare.
He followed the homey sounds and smells down a narrow corridor, and found himself in the kitchen.
Ila, Ilesh and Ming-Na were kneeling around a small table with steaming bowls of something he didn't recognise set out in front of them.
Ila spotted him first.
"Lee!" she exclaimed, causing Ilesh and Ming-Na to turn towards him.
"Lee, you're up! Come sit down and eat," Ming-Na struggled to her feet.
"Oh, no you don't have to-" she waved off his concern.
"Sit. I'll fix you a bowl."
He did as he was told. He wondered if it was just him she had such an… obedient effect on.
"I'll do it," he blurted as Ming-Na handed him some food.
The bowl nearly ended up overturned his lap.
"You will?" hope was shining in every line of Ming-Na's careworn face, and Zuko felt in his bones the rightness of staying. Teaching. His chest gave a twinge, a prickly reminder that he couldn't stay long.
"I can show them the basics before I leave. I can only stay a few days…"
Ming-Na looked disappointed, but she didn't push him.
"What are you going to do?" asked Ila curiously.
"He's going to teach you firebending," replied Ming-Na.
Ila gasped and her chop sticks clattered into her bowl.
"I like jook!" exclaimed Ilesh randomly.
It took a lot of convincing on Zuko's part to get Ming-Na to allow him to begin that very day.
She thought he still needed to rest, "You could barely walk yesterday, what makes you think you'll be able to bend?"
"I won't be bending. I'll be teaching."
"How can you teach bending without actually bending?"
"They're just starting, the most I'll do is light some candles, maybe make some flame-balls."
Ming-Na gave him a dubious look.
"Small flame-balls-" he amended, "-and I'm perfectly capable of lighting candles. I'm not an invalid anymore."
Eventually she relented, and he found himself down by the river later that afternoon with an assortment of jittery children and adults watching him speculatively.
It looked like the whole village had turned up to gawk at the spectacle.
He spotted the man who Ming-Na must have patched up the night before; both of his hands were heavily bandaged.
He was around the same age as Ming-Na, somewhere in his thirties, with Earth Kingdom green eyes and black hair.
There was a tiny boy beside him, clinging to one of his wrists above the bandages. The boy's eyes were golden, just like Ila's.
"Okay everyone, listen up," announced Ming-Na. Everyone quietened and looked at her attentively.
It seemed that Ming-Na's talent for eliciting compliance was universal.
"This is Lee. He's a firebender, and he's willing to teach the kids."
As one, every pair of eyes turned to look at him. The children looked curious, while the adults looked wary.
"Ming-Na, you know we trust your judgement, but how do you know this boy is trustworthy?" questioned a small woman with nervous fluttering hands.
"I agree with Ling," seconded an old man with flinty eyes, "How can we be sure your firebender is tame?" he spat distastefully.
"I'm not an animal, don't talk about me like I'm not here," Zuko snapped, making quite a few people recoil in apprehension.
"Alright, you tell us then-" said another woman, hugging a young girl to her chest, "Why should we trust you with our children?"
He sighed heavily, what exactly did they think he was going to do? Roast them for breakfast when they weren't looking? They were children for Agni's sake.
"Look, untrained firebenders are dangerous. They can accidentally hurt themselves, and others if they don't learn control. That's all I'm going to teach them: control."
"Is that what happened to your face boy? You lose control?" taunted the old man with flinty eyes.
"Yattu!" censured Ming-Na furiously.
Zuko felt his face crack into a feral snarl, and then the crowd erupted into furious whispers. Distrustful whispers.
With considerably effort, he reigned in his temper. He just wanted to help, he didn't want these people to fear him.
"This wasn't an accident," he said roughly, fingertips brushing the glossy ridges of his scar lightly.
"Everyone listen to me carefully," said Ming-Na in a dangerously low voice. In that moment, despite being short and pregnant, she looked truly intimidating. The whispers halted abruptly. She had everyone's undivided attention.
"The wound that caused Lee's scar was inflicted on him when he was a child. It was deliberate. It was controlled. It was on purpose. If any of you say another word about it, you will have me to answer to."
The proclamation was met with dead silence.
Ming-Na stared down every adult in the crowd imperiously with her arms crossed above her swollen belly. Her face was thunderous.
It was a punishment. I deserved it… thought Zuko miserably, shifting his weight uncomfortably.
"Now, Lee here is the one who found Ila and Ilesh and brought them home. He took a fire snake bite for Ila, and probably saved her life. Out of the goodness of his heart, he has offered to stay here for the next few days and teach our children firebending. Do any of you have a problem with that?" challenged Ming-Na.
No one dared to meet her eye.
"Good. Now, if you're here to learn, come closer," she ordered.
Ila hobbled over to stand by him with no trace of apprehension, and a few other children followed her lead timidly. They were all either clinging to, or closely followed by a parent or guardian.
Zuko counted five children, including Ila.
"The rest of you, go away. Shows over," declared Ming-Na.
With a little grumbling, the crowd began to disperse.
"How do you do that?" asked Zuko in awe.
"Do what?" asked Ming-Na, turning towards him.
"You tell people what to do, and then they actually do it."
It was more than that; when she spoke, people listened.
Ming-Na smiled wryly.
"The trick is to order them to do it like it's a foregone conclusion that they will," she confided.
Her expression softened, "I'm really sorry, I didn't expect it to turn into a such a circus," she put a hand on his shoulder, "If anyone gives you any trouble, let me know and I'll straighten them out," she said firmly, giving his shoulder a squeeze.
The idea of a diminutive pregnant woman 'straightening out' anyone on his behalf would have been laughable a day ago.
Now Zuko knew better, the woman had a backbone of steel.
He was oddly touched that she was using that backbone of steel to defend him. He didn't need it; he could handle himself, but still… it was nice.
She turned her attention to the remaining small knot of people.
"I know you're all worried, but we have to give them some space to work. Yun, can you made something for us to watch from over there?"
The man with burnt hands stepped forward and stomped on the ground a few times, raising a series of benches from the earth an easy distance away.
"You can take it from here Lee?"
He nodded. Ming-Na gave him an encouraging smile before forcibly leading the adults away to the new benches.
Zuko turned his attention to his pupils.
Five tiny faces stared up at him expectantly, and he suddenly felt nervous.
"Alright, let's start with your names," he declared with more confidence than he felt.
Ila launched into introductions.
"This is Akai-" she pointed at the tiny boy who'd been hanging off the sleeve of the man with burnt hands, "-that's Gopan-" she gestured to a boy with shaggy black hair and light brown eyes, "-this is Song-" she nodded to a girl with dark skin and tip-tilted golden eyes, "-and he's Chan," a thin boy with dark skin and serious eyes gave a tiny nod.
Akai, Gopan, Song, Chan, Ila. He repeated in his head.
"Okay, I want you to all sit down in a semi-circle and watch and listen carefully."
They scrambled to obey his command.
Zuko's firebending training had been very aggressive, all about cultivating ferocity and mastering the physical forms to produce the most fire as swiftly as possible.
He was pushed, and pushed until he was shaking from exhaustion, until all the chi was wrung from his body.
He knew that this would be the wrong approach with these children.
He had been raised to fight, to go to war. These children just needed to learn not to be afraid of themselves or burn things down.
Mindful of the adults watching his every move, Zuko cupped his palms and slowly produced a small flickering flame.
"Firebending in and of itself is not something to fear-" he made the tiny flame condense into a small ball, and had the ball float gently around the circle. The children watched with rapt attention. He extinguished it.
"-But you do need to respect it, in order to learn how to control it," he continued, "Unlike other benders, firebenders produce their element using their chi as a source. Put your hand up if you've produced fire on your own before."
Ila's hand went up, along with Akai and Gopan.
"How about if you've manipulated an existing fire?"
They stared at him blankly.
"For example, if you've made a candle flicker or burn brighter," he elaborated. Everyone's hands went up.
"Good, that means that all of you can connect to fire. Today we're going to practice using our breath to control fire."
He set out five candles, one in front of each student, and lit them all with a flick of his wrist.
He sat cross-legged facing the group.
"I want each of you to concentrate on the flame in front of you. Connect to it, feel it burning, and breathe deeply. Once you connect to your fire, when you inhale in it should shrink, and when you exhale it should grow, like this."
Zuko took control of the five burning candles easily. He breathed in deeply and the flames flickered low, and then he let it out and the flames flared to the size of moon peaches.
The children gasped, clearly impressed. It occurred to Zuko that his simple displays were probably first deliberate firebending any of them had witnessed.
Once all of them had more or less gotten the hang of it, Zuko had them try snuffing the flames out completely.
This proved much more challenging for all of them.
"No, you can't just hold your breath," he explained hastily, as a few of them became dangerously red in the face, "Keep breathing, but every time you inhale, will the flame to get as small as possible. When you exhale, try not to let it get big again."
It took some time, but with a little coaxing they all managed to put out their candles with their bending.
Zuko then relit them all and made them do it over and over again.
They practiced feeling and controlling fire through breath until the shadows had lengthened and the sun started dipping below the horizon.
Zuko was surprised, it had been hours. The children had been remarkably focused and well-behaved. If it were him, he'd have been chomping at the bit to learn more. Demanding to be shown the next move, to be let through to the next step.
"Let's call it a day," he declared, waving his hand to put out the candles.
"Will you show us more tomorrow?" asked Gopan timidly.
"Sure, same time same place," he replied. To his astonishment, jubilant smiles broke out on all their faces.
He felt his lips automatically upturn in response.
"Thanks Sifu Lee!" said Ila, getting to her feet and bowing.
"Thanks Sifu Lee!" "Yeah, thanks Sifu Lee!" chorused the other children, following Ila's lead and getting up to bow.
If Katara didn't have his heart, it would have swelled with pride.
He went to stand and bow back, but the little firebending that he had done must have taken a lot more out of him than he thought, because got a sudden case of vertigo and had to immediately sit back down.
He put his head between his knees and breathed deeply, desperately trying to cling to consciousness.
"Lee? Are you okay?" Ming-Na materialized by his side. He felt her lay a hand against his back.
"I'm fine," he bit out stubbornly, willing his head to stop spinning.
"I knew you needed more rest! Yun, can you give me a hand? You need to come back with me anyway so I can check your hands."
"Is Lee okay mom?" asked Ila fearfully.
"He'll be okay sweetie. Now Lee, do you think you can get up for us?"
He raised his head and was surprised to find many concerned faces looking down at him.
He forced himself to his feet. He stumbled a little, but managed to stay standing.
The man with bandaged hands - Yun - appeared by his side and gripped one of Zuko's arms, putting it over his shoulder.
Zuko was so out of it that he didn't protest.
The journey home was a blur; all he could focus on was putting one foot in front of the other.
Ming-Na had Yun deposit him in the kitchen.
She forced him to eat a meal, which he barely tasted, before bundling him off back to his room.
He fell asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow.
Well, Zuko was going to meet up with the others but then this got quite long so sorry about that! It'll have to be next time. As always, sorry about the typos! And thank you so so so much for the reviews last chapter. :)
If you have any questions, feel free to ask.