…Listen, I know it's been a long time, but my teacher just decided to give us a crap ton of assignments and I wanted to give myself time to finish those. I'm not gonna fail my class because of fan fiction lmao.
Also prom is coming up (woo) and I was figuring stuff out for that. I got my nails done and oh boy how does anyone write with these claws?
I will try editing later because I know this chapter is janky AF, and I'm pretty sure some of the characters act a little OOC. Please feel free to leave reviews and support. Anything is appreciated! :D
Zuko wasn't happy (surprise surprise).
And it's all her fault.
A year after his banishment, he needed to get away. His uncle's concern was smothering, his crew's presence was stifling, the ship was all the more suffocating—and red had never failed to provide pride before the journey began.
But scarlet only reminded him of home—how he wasn't there.
Never give up without a fight, he could taste those words on his tongue.
That just makes you stronger, Zuko, he could hear those words echo in the chambers of his skull.
But his scar…the burn so new and fresh, so tender and puckered on his skin—the whispers of what it meant dragged him down with every step he took, every stumble he made; a ball and chain that sunk him down.
You were never a planner, Zuko, the thought hit like a punch to the face, head against the pillow and eyes glued to the black void of a ceiling, I have no idea what I'm doing. Stupid fool! I'm going to fail chichi-ue, I'm going to fail, I'm a failure, Azula was always the better child—
Fear clenched his heart: But, if you give up now, you're even worse than a disgrace.
Because giving up was a sign of weakness.
Giving up went against everything his country was.
Giving up meant that the months of pain and effort, agony and grit, were for nothing.
Never give up without a fight: he saw the dagger buried in its hilt sat on the table—it taunted him; teased him. The dual dao hung on his wall as if they were nothing more than decoration.
But the prince knew better—his swords were a solace when flame wouldn't return his call, when his footing was off, when Azula toyed and lied with his thoughts and feelings.
They were there when his mother wasn't.
That just makes you stronger, Zuko.
By chance, he took a walk that night.
By chance, he needed to step outside the scarlet room.
By chance, he saw the panel on the wall come loose when he wandered years ago, dao in his hands and dagger in its hilt. The half-moon's brilliance trickled through the empty room's window. The night sun twinkled, and a Tui-blessed kiss grazed his scar that fateful night when the moon reached its peak.
It was an old ship: it wasn't uncommon for rooms to be boarded up during maintenance and renovation.
This one must've slipped from the schematics.
But for Zuko, it was an answer to his prayers.
In the incoming years, it became a safe haven. His bedroom was the sleeping chambers of a Fire Nation prince—red carpet, red blanket, red clothes, red-waxed candles, red sheets, and red insignia which hung above his head. They were his daily reminder:
He was Prince Zuko.
He was a child of the Fire Nation—
—And he was failing his country every minute they crossed those cursed waters.
He didn't mind his bedroom, but the hidden chamber next to the kitchens was an empty canvas. Its grays conveyed no nation except the blue sky that smiled through the glass. The only pieces of furniture were an old, spare futon that had lost its scarlet color, stitched together with a mismatched collection of thread and cloth, and a makeshift table made of storage crates. In the corners, playwrights collected from ports that came and gone, stories written in dialects he tolerated (loved)deciphering, theatre masks left behind by his mother carved close to his heart.
His bedroom was where he was the prince of the Fire Nation, the glory of Agni, and everything his brilliance touched.
But the hidden room, locked away and forgotten by history and the people of the ship?
All pretense of nation and pride was lost.
There, he wasn't a prince…
He was Zuko.
There were times he longed to roam the palace walls once more, to sit at the dinner table with his father's imposing figure and Azula's intimidating presence.
But, there were times when treasonous thoughts filled his mind, when he was happy to be sitting in a dingy, metal room with his uncle devouring the roasted duck. Sometimes, he actually tolerated the people of the Wani.
Sometimes, he wondered if the hunt for the Avatar was truly a wild goose chase.
(Sometimes, I wonder if chichi-ue truly cared—)
He swore those thoughts would never leave the room—no—his room. Not the bedroom or the stalls with the Rhinos, but the hidden room that answered his prayers.
No one else was allowed to enter.
No one else was allowed to know.
It was his space, his turtle-duck pond.
And this girl had to muck it all up.
Zuko felt her hard, hot exhales fall from her nose and onto his knuckle, the hand still covering the mouth that ran like the wind. The hand on her wrist did little to quell the squirming. Her back was pressed against his chest, and no, stay still you stupid heart.
His eyes were glued to the flare of light peering through the metal cracks.
Zuko's eyes narrowed at the familiar heat of flame that passed by. Beneath him, he felt her body tense at the shadow that peeked through the crevices—the shape of a man.
"You don't really think there's a stowaway on this ship or anything, right?"—Mieko, of all people.
He heard a scoff across the hall, further from their exit: "No, but Sango did make a mess of things tonight. Both he and whoever there was really woke the whole boat—I'm actually kind of impressed. Didn't know he had the lungs for that."—Ugh, Daiki. Always not knowing when to shut up.
Mieko shifted, his shadow grew and darkened until—
Thunk.
Shit.
The panels warped under Mieko's weight. Their tenacity kept, but the shape where his back leaned was merely inches from the girl's nose.
Speaking of which…
Agni-damn it, not only does she wake the entire ship—
—she might as well lose you this room, Zuko. She's going to give you away with her breath alone!
It's so damn distracting, I'm surprised they hadn't even heard yet.
Spirits—how long are they going to yammer on?
How long is that panel going to hold?
He cursed under his breath, eyes glued to the frayed strands of blue sprouted from her black roots. The flare of flame reflected off that damned golden butterfly clip, its dashes of brilliance twinkled her hair.
Zuko briefly remembered that ornament in her hair at sea—it reflected the light of a thousand suns.
—Fuck, it could reflect the light of a thousand suns.
His hand snapped to its glittering wings. The other felt her muffled protests come out as nothing but mumbles that died at his fingers.
Her now free hand grabbed the one that threatened to tug the clip—tight, cautious, warning.
It's just a stupid clip, he rolled his eyes, but her grip said otherwise, I could overpower her, rip the clip off…shit how do these things work?
Her grip tightened the moment he tugged and on the other hand…
Something wet—
Something wriggling—
On the palm of his hand that covered her mouth.
She fucking didn't lick my—?!
He reeled it back, face scrunched up in disgust.
"Ugh! You pea-!" A hand was slapped on his mouth. His protests descended into angered grumbles, mere vibrations against the calloused palm—She licks my hand and has the audacity to, not only tell me off about some nonsense—!
—Agni, please let it be nonsense—
—She thinks she has the right to shush me when I was trying to do the same to her—?
—Why does she even want to hide anyway? You have a good reason, Zuko, she was just out and about—
—Oh, Zuko, you absolute dumbass! Why did you bring her here—?!
He froze.
The chatter outside had stopped.
"Did you hear…something?" Shit, shit shit shit—
Zuko held his breath.
In the brief light, he saw the girl's lips drawn into a straight line. Her eyelashes cast a shadow of thought, dark, deep, and contemplative.
He could almost see his reflection in those shadowed pupils.
His hand was glued to the butterfly ornament, strands of blue cascaded past the fingers like the held breath of winter.
Zuko felt her fingers twitch on his knuckle.
The flare of a Firebender grew brighter.
Another shadow of a figure drew nearer.
The hollow floors did little to muffle the sound of their foreboding steps.
Until…
The flame flickered out.
A sigh resounded in the air, "Whatever, Daiki. You may not be a Firebender, but you gotta admit, it's too late at night for this. At least I'm going to bed."
"Aiya, are you serious, Mieko? Did you really not hear that?"
"You hear everything, Daiki-san: A creak that only the people on the other side of the ship had heard, the first drop of rain before the storm hits the hull, and the first sign of gossip. Agni only knows how much you've heard and spread about that girl."
That girl? Gaze snapped to the said girl: his jaw was still in her grasp, his hand still in her hair, and her fear melded into a focus he could've only imagined—I knew they were chipmunk-squirrelly once she arrived and—Agni, the gossip on this ship is exhausting, but, what—?
He froze—don't call me an idiot. You're an idiot, you're all idiots. The memory of simmering anger he didn't know could bubble surfaced in his mind.
Tell them to stop calling me an idiot.
Tell them to leave me alone.
Tell them to stop calling me "Iroh's sex friend."
They didn't—?! A scowl threatened to break through, the girl's grip tightened, the skin in her grip bunched around the nose: Those damn peasants, disrespecting The Dragon of the West—?!
—Disrespecting my oji, out of all people?! He wouldn't stoop so low as…to screw around with a girl my age!
Where is their honor—?!
Zuko couldn't bear standing around and waiting for the sun to rise. He could confront them right there—where the ship was awake and his mind raced with the fuel of Agni's flare and anger.
I won't stand for this insolence—The room reeked of smoke and ash—Their dishonor is disgraceful!
He took the hand that held his mouth, but her grip remained stubborn and resolute. Her eyes grew big once she realized his intent, the drabble of conversation still very much droning on in the space outside—"No." Her words barely came out as a whisper, but their sharpness was made clear.
She pressed the other hand against his grumbling mouth, two hands pinned him down by his lips.
"Let go of me!" He tried to shout, "You peasant, let go of me!"
She avoided his eyes, her head shook furiously in a flurry of blue hair.
Oh for—
He bit her hand.
She swallowed the scream and her lips tightened.
Her grip loosened—he took his chance.
His hand reached the loose panel, the dent bulging at the wall—
—And he stumbled back—
What the—?!
Her legs were wrapped around his waist, arms around his neck.
Still, she managed to cover his mouth with a free hand.
Spirits! What the fuck does she—?!
His body stumbled away from the metal panel, the weight of her body threatening to bring him down the more he moved.
Then…
The chatter stopped.
The lights went out.
Footsteps from across the ship still resounded, but the hallway was clear.
She let out a breath and she slumped against his back, the hand slipped off his mouth. He ignored the heat that reached his face, conscious of the form pressed against his bare, very bare, torso.
And her arms are still wrapped—
He scowled, "Get. Off!"
Zuko didn't even know if she understood the words or his impatience—he was just glad she decided to slide off. He heard her mumbles and murmurs, the feet pacing in the room, the only light being the comforting blue glow that reflected on the metal.
She refused to look him in the eye.
"What in Agni's name was that?" He hissed.
The girl continued to pace, lost in a space of her own.
"Hey, I'm talking to you—!"
"I'm…sorry."
He blinked.
What?
"…What?"
"I…said….too much….before." Wo tai duo shuo.
"…You…said too much?"
"Everyone…woke up." Tamen qi chuang.
That's…he swallowed: I…didn't think she would apologize.
It was her fault.
Yes, but—
Somehow, the apology didn't settle well in his stomach.
"…Do you know what 'pao you' means?"
"I'm…I'm not an idiot, Zuko." Zuko wo bushi ben dan, "I learned." Wo xuele.
"I never said you—" He paused.
No, I definitely said it.
But, even if he hadn't said a word, his thoughts weren't exempt from the equation—she talks like a five-year-old.
Even if he was against the label of "Iroh's sex friend," would he still be against it if it wasn't "Iroh" but someone else's name?
I thought she was a prostitute the first time she came on the ship, he groaned.
The girl didn't look him in the eye—of course, she couldn't, "I…am sorry." Dui bu qi, she murmured, "Leave…me…alone." Ni bu yao li wo.
The girl peered through the cracks in between the panels, and Zuko simply stood there, lost in a haze of thought of his own.
"I said too much," Those words resounded in his head. She apologized for saying more than he's ever heard her say on the ship.
He remembered his oji, how he dragged him to the bedroom during one fateful lesson, for the purpose of "making her open up" (Ugh, what a terrible idea—the same day I bought that stupid, stupid dress—)
And now that she seemingly did open up—
—She's apologizing for it.
Why do I even care?
Well, you don't, Zuko—you're better than stooping that low for her.
He watched as she pulled the stick from behind her ear and a piece of parchment from her pocket—was she using that…that stick to write? Is that charcoal?
What is the purpose of that butterfly clip? Is it truly made out of real gold?
If she doesn't have a home, does she have a family?
Why does she know the language of the spirits, but not the common language?
She had been on the ship for a good two weeks, and yet here he was, still asking questions, still wondering and assuming. I'm only keeping her here because of the Avatar—he tried to figure—there's no reason to get to know her. She's simply a means to an end.
But…does she even know anything about the Avatar? Does she even know what an Avatar is?
Did I really save her…because of the Avatar?
No…no, he didn't.
He saved her because she needed to be saved.
So—Why do I even care?
He didn't.
He shouldn't.
I really shouldn't.
Azula would've left her at the last port. Chichi-ue would've burned her for her insolence—they wouldn't have been as weak.
They also wouldn't be on this cursed ship with him either, yet here they were…plaguing his mind from miles away.
Thunk.
Thunk.
Thunk!
The girl cursed under her breath, hand on the dented panel. Muffled voices felt louder above their heads and their footsteps no better.
Zuko narrowed his eyes and approached the wall—to the make-shift door of steel and screws, "What is it?" His arms crossed over his chest.
She didn't say a word, her grip continued to struggle.
Oh for the love of Agni—
"Let me—!" He paused: The panel warped but didn't budge, "It can't be stuck—"
He yanked the metal; thunk.
Maybe I just need to do it harder—
Thunk.
A different angle—?
Thunk!
He heard the girl's frantic shush, "Stop! Stop! Stop!" Tingzhi! Tingzhi! Tingzhi!
"Calm down, I almost got it—"
"They hear! They hear!" Tamen ting! Tamen ting!
"Ugh—why do you even care?! Let's just get out of here, then, I can leave you alone. I can't leave you alone if we're stuck together—!"
"They…they think I am Iroh's sex friend because they see me with him."
He scoffed, "So?" —Obviously, I'll yell at them about it and figure out the rest later.
"…They see me and you...together. What will they think?" Tamen kan wo gen ni yiqi. Tamen xiang shenme?
He froze.
Are…Are the lessons really the reason they—?
Oji might have to stop the lessons, then—
But how else would she learn how to speak? The less she learns, the more she'll have to be a nuisance on the ship.
Zuko, however, was more annoyed that she was right.
But admittance, to Zuko, meant defeat, "I don't care what they think." Wo buzaihu tamen zenme xiang.
"You don't…care?" ni buzaihuma? He saw the way her brows bunched together.
Thunk! "The crew doesn't matter to me. All they need to do is respect me, not like me."
"What about Iroh?"
Thunk—"…What about him?"
"Do you care about him?"
Thunk! "…No."
She huffed. In the corner of his eye, he saw her breath blow a stray strand of hair from her face—like a feather, floating back onto the sun spots of her nose, "That is not the truth."
Thunk! "Ugh, what do you know?! You're just a little, dumb girl that came onto my ship. You are a xiao ben dan!"
"I am not—!" But she refrained and sucked in a breath. The words never left her mouth, but he saw how her face puckered—as if they soured on her tongue.
Thunk!
Thunk!
Thunk!
Zuko scowled at the stubborn panel, "What the fuck is this—?!" He felt the steam leave his nose. The girl said nothing as he stomped away from the wall.
Her brown eyes only observed, watched, and listened to the grumbling teen.
Who knew quiet could be an aggravating sound?
The last thing I want to do is spend the night here with…with this girl of all people!
Agni damn it! Why did she have to find out about this room? This is my room, damn it! My space!
Whatever, just…just find a way to get her out of here. After this, I don't want to see her face again.
The second hour was tiring.
"Pull—!"
"Ugh, we've tried that before!"
"Push, dui bu qi—I mean push."
"For Agni's sake, learn the difference."
"Why are you mad—?"
"I'm. Not. Mad."
"That is not the truth." She slumped, a hand raised to pinch to the bridge of her nose, "You are mad every day."
"You don't know me! Stop acting like you know—!"
She put a finger to her lips and he fell silent. In its place, the sound of footsteps fell overhead. Minutes ago, he would've ignored her gesture, continued to talk and push or pull (Whatever she actually meant) the panel—the barrier between his space and The Wani.
But now…
The time they spent had developed a system between the two of them: they bickered, she listened, they stopped, and once she gave the signal, they tried again.
And the signal was not yet given.
The sounds crescendoed.
The sounds gained.
Then, they faded into mere whispers of The Wani.
She nodded.
His shoulders relaxed. The girl reached for the parchment in her pocket and the yellow stick in her hair. Her murmurs barely surfaced above the natural rhythms of The Wani's creaks.
From what he could tell, the parchment held nothing but lists of scribbles. She dashed a line through one of the lines of gibberish and, from his line of sight, the whole paper might as well have been a block of gray from all that she crossed out. He narrowed his eyes at what little "writing" he could've discerned. Zuko licked his lips, head tilted towards the paper—there's no way she can actually read this stuff:
"Is that…"—Spirits, what did oji say it was?—"…yingwen?"
She snapped from her thought-filled stupor, a sharp inhale as her eyes met his own, "…What?"
Zuko tapped the paper, "Is. This. Yingwen?"
Her eyes searched his as if she would've found the answers through gazes alone: "..Yes." Her gaze went back to the parchment, "…Why you ask question?"
"I just want to know," he scoffed.
"You no like me." Her voice was certain, the burnt edge of the yellow stick scribbled back on the folded parchment, "Why you want to…ah…know?"
"I just—!" he ran a hand over his face, a scowl igniting the inner flame. He could feel the fires of his chi lick through the surface, "—I don't know—we've been here for two hours, maybe?! I should be in bed right now! Agni, you're more infuriating than my oji—"
"Oji?"
"—Iroh-san."
"Oh." she frowned, "oji…oji…oji…"
"What are you doing?"
"…I am learning word."
"By saying it? Is that how you are learning with oji?"
"Why you ask questions?"
"Are you—?" he groaned, throwing his hands over his head—For Agni's sake, I need another break.
She only watched as he walked away from her, grumbles and curses sprouting from under his breath: At this point, I might as well jump out the window and scale the ship myself—
—Wait.
His attention shifted from his thoughts to the gaze of Tui's imposing figure, the full moon a testament to the night. It was right above the table of playwrights sprawled about and stories annotated on scrolls. They were mere shadows in the presence of the moon, and the window had never shone clearer.
…I could climb the window, he realized, I mean, the girl doesn't weigh that much. You've carried supplies on your back sneaking around the palace before, right?
"…Girl."
"My name is—" She followed his gaze, and Zuko saw the tension in her shoulders, the pallor on her face, the hesitation in those big, wide eyes, "…No."
"No what?"
Her eyes searched the window, "Ah…uh…" words failed and she pointed to the window, "I will not go there. No. No."
"You have to get out of here somehow!"
"No." she pointed to the stubborn panel, her fingers covered in the black oil of metal-work and rust, "I go back there."
"I can climb. You can just hold on." He felt the heat rush to his face at the memory—legs wrapped around his waist, arms held tight around his neck, chin on the crook of his shoulder, "It's…" he cleared his throat, "It'll be brief."
"No, no." Her voice threatened to rise above her whisper, "I will…uh…" She raised her hand in the air, and lazily made it fall under the weight of gravity.
He rolled his eyes, "You're not going to fall."
"No, no, I will—uh—f…fall." She furrowed her brows as if testing how the word tasted on her tongue: luxia…luxia…luxia, "fall…fall..faaaaall—"
"Stop." He sighed—Agni, it's too late at night for this. I'm exhausted, "You're not going to fall, I won't let you."
"I…I have fell before." She shook her head, "I will not go."
I have fell before?
What the fuck does that mean?
He saw how the moon threatened to sink from the sky's peak, "I don't care."
She huffed, "…You don't care about…about anything..."
"What did you say, peasant?"
"…Nothing—"
"Oh, you—!" He swore he felt steam rising from the surface of his skin—I could strangle her, right now, "I'm getting you out of here, whether you like it or—!"
"—Not, I guess we're not." He couldn't believe his luck:
The girl had the speech of a five-year-old.
The girl was stuck in a room with him.
The girl was afraid of heights.
She's fallen before, he remembered her saying and the words plagued his mind. Zuko's bare back leant against the cold, cold metal as he observed her from across the room. The piece of parchment was stuffed in her pocket long ago and, despite how her head bobbed and eyes drifted, she was willing to keep herself awake.
He was willing to do the same, despite how low Agni was from the sky.
I won't fall asleep with her in the room.
"What…what are these?" she reached towards one of the scrolls on the table.
He snatched it from her grasp, "Careful."
"It's…a careful?"
"No!" he scowled, the scroll crinkling under his movements. His anger, however, didn't flare as big as it would have—his energy couldn't afford it, "These are plays."
He saw the girl nibbling on her bottom lip, "…What is…a play?"
"Play," he sounded out the word, "It's the…the…" Agni, how do I explain this to her? "Actors?"
"…What are…actors?"
He groaned, "You know, they—" Zuko waved his arms around, a gesture so vague she tilted her head to the side, as if the movement could help her decipher it.
Agni, how do I explain this to her?
He looked down at the parchment—Which play is this..?
Oh.
Hudie feixing.
"Butterfly Flight," he spared a brief glance towards the cursed golden clip, still shimmering in that blue moonlight. Zuko cleared his throat—this is the scene…where Hu first falls in love with Die at the academy.
I remember this scene—haha-ue loved playing Hu.
I hated the story.
Because it ended in tragedy?
Because it was stupid.
He took in a breath, the scroll more of a prop rather than the script it was meant to be, "Curse these wretched feelings," he put a hand on his chest, a stab in the heart—the forbidden love Hu could have never reached, "he is simply a boy, a scholar that wouldn't care for the material possessions I desire, and yet—"
He inhaled, eyes closed as he pictured the house at Ember Island, the sunset spotlight cast a foreboding shadow, "—he was the one to capture my heart. Can it be, his studious mind and simple life were what drew me to him in the first place? Nay, it cannot be so—!"
A snicker cut through the room.
The house faded away, and the only thing left in its wake was a girl covering her mouth. Though under the palm, he saw the smile that threatened to break into giggles.
He felt the heat rise to his face, "What?"
"…I…I knew what actors were."
"But you said—!"
"I…I wanted see…what you might…do."
"And yet, you accuse me of being a liar!"
"L…Liar?"
"Liar—they don't say the truth."
"Ah," The grin flattened to a straight line, "…I thought…you acted good."
"You laughed."
"I think…you like acting…a lot." She admitted, "You're always angry. But, because you were acting, you were not angry."
"So what? Because I'm a little happy sometimes, it's funny?"
"No, no! I'm…I'm sorry…for laughing—"
"Stop it."
She froze, "What?"
"Stop apologizing." Recognition colored her face quickly enough, lips still pulled into a straight line—at least she knows those words: "It's weak."
"To…apologize?"
"Yes."
"If…" she swallowed, "If I no apologize, do they think I am strong?"
"Who?" Her hand gestured to the metal hull, "Wait—the crew? Why do you care what they think?"
"They think bad of me now," she huffed, "I want them to…to leave me alone."
"They don't need to like you to do that.'
"I know I know…"
"So why do you care?"
"…What's this?" Another scroll was picked up from the table, the parchment wrapped around her fingers.
Zuko's brows furrowed together: Is she trying to change the—?
"Answer me, girl."
"My name is—"
"I don't care. Answer the question."
"It's…" her fingers fiddled with the script and picked at the ripped, frayed edges. Her eyes searched the wall behind him, "…I…don't know."
"…That's it? You don't know?"
"I…I think…it's because…I don't have…" she swallowed, "…my family."
"…What?"
"Have no family. Have no friends. I don't know anyone here. They don't know me." Her face grimaced, "…I don't want them to hate me. Because they hate me, who will be…friend?"
"You want them to like you because you want to make friends?"
"No…not friend—uh…like friend—"
Zuko threw his hands up, "That makes no sense!"
"I'm sor—"
"Stop that!" He slumped against the metal hull—the girl says she has no family, no friends, and she made it clear she didn't know where the Avatar was either.
I don't even know if she'll be useful on the ship, in the slightest.
The prince felt his fatigue prod the edges of his irritated flame, "…You have no family?"
"My family…is not here."
"Obviously they're not here," he shook his head, "do you know where they are?"
"…I don't know."
"What is your family name?"
"My…family name?"
"Monkey-feathers, please tell me you have a family name or know what a family name is—"
"I have one!" She squeaked out, "It's…It's Fei."
"Fei…Fei…" An Earth Kingdom last name—it's…a good place to start. He didn't want to think about the fact that the Earth Kingdom was the largest continent in the world.
But, it was better than nothing—he could hold on to that.
"How many people are in your family?"
"Three—me, my baba, and my gege."
"No mama?"
"Right, no mama."
"…Is she—?"
"I don't know." The answer, however, didn't aggravate Zuko as it normally would've. That just makes you stronger, Zuko: he could remember her voice, how her perfume smelled distinctly like Fire Lillies, how her warmth was soft and natural, how her hands cradled him to sleep.
Sometimes, he worried he started to forget her face.
So…we're looking for a family of two with the name Fei—
He paused: Am I really going to help her find her family?
If that's what gets her out of your way in finding the Avatar, then so be it.
"…Do you have mama?" The girl's voice made him freeze. Her curiosity, though quiet, hit harder than any other words should've.
He glared, "Why do you care?"
"I…I want to know! You know…I don't have mama," her voice lowered to a mumble, "You ask me question. I want to ask you question."
Zuko held his breath, hesitation growing in his lungs—this girl doesn't deserve to know a thing about me—
"No," he murmured.
"What did you say?"
"I said no, I don't have a mother, are you happy?" He threw a hand in the air, "I answered your question!"
"Do you…uh….re…mem…ber her?"
"Of course I do," he huffed, arms crossed over his chest, "She's my mother. Don't you remember yours?"
An ugly grimace pinched her face, "I don't remember her, because we never had her."
"What?" he scoffed—Earth Kingdom fathers don't raise their children—one of the first things he was taught—Earth Kingdom men don't raise daughters, "What about an auntie? Grandmother? A sister?"
"Aun…tie? Grand…mother?"
Is she truly stupid? "Your father's sister?! Your father's mother?"
"I…don't have…Grandmother. I don't have…auntie."
"Who took care of you?"
Confusion colored her features, but a lopsided grin made feeble attempts to cover it.
He groaned—spirits, how does oji deal with this all day?
"Who. Took. Care. Of. You?"
"Uh…" she swallowed, "Yes?"
"No! You—!" He swallowed the shouts once he saw that smile fade and sink into a frown. The girl's gaze continued to study, free to wander his face and posture—but tongue was held back with a leash of restraint.
I didn't mean—
Agni, you're such an idiot, Zuko; you never mean to do these things—
Should you apolog—?
No. Just….just—I don't know, act it out?
The last time we acted it out, she burst out laughing—I am not willing to embarrass myself in front of the only person here.
Shit…how do I make her understand?
He thought.
He pondered.
He realized.
"…My mama, took care of me." His voice started slow, "My mama told me stories and…and helped me go to sleep. My mama…my mama taught me a lot of things."
"…What she teach you?"
"What?"
"I—uh," hesitation held her tongue and caught her breath. Her teeth caught the bottom of her lip and nibbled away at the dry skin, "Nothing."
He studied her features: the dry patches around her scalp, the faint scar above one brow reflected in the moonlight, the sun-kissed spots that littered her face, the eye-bags hidden under sparse patches of make-up—
And her eyes, despite how sunken they appeared and how low the lids threatened to fall, were bright with painful curiosity.
"…My mama taught me how to read," he looked down at "Hudie Feixing" crinkled in his fingers, "She taught me how to be strong. She,"—Zuko felt the lump form in his throat, "She taught me to never forget who I am."
Everything I've done, he remembered the dreary tiredness, the fatigued confusion when he woke up that fateful night to the last image of his mother, I've done to protect you.
Remember this, Zuko.
No matter how things seem to change.
Never forget who you are.
Remember this, Zuko.
No matter how things seem to change.
Never forget who you are.
Remember this, Zuko.
Remember this, Zuko.
Remember—
Zuko—
Zuko—
Never forget—
"—uko? Zuko?" A hand shook his shoulder and his mind out of whatever dream-like stupor he was stuck in. The prince snapped back to the weight of reality and how its gravity pushed down on his shoulders. He froze; concern filled the edges of the girl's brown-eyed gaze, "Are you okay? Zuko?"'
He felt something drip from his chin and onto his feet, his face felt cooler than before in the frigid room. He pressed a finger to his cheek and pulled back to find the shiny residue of sadness—was I—?
Tears, he could almost laugh, I cried…right here…because I miss my mother, of all things.
Like a damned child.
He didn't have the energy to shake the girl's hand away.
He didn't have the energy to protest his thoughts.
He didn't have the energy to carry the weight of what he was missing:
I've been away from home for three years.
I've been away from my family for three years.
I've been away from the turtle-duck pond for three years.
"San-nen ga tachimashita," Zuko murmured the language of Fire; the language of warmth, the language of home.
"What—?" Her breath stifled once he slumped onto her shoulder, his forehead bobbed against the green cloth, and, if he didn't know any better, he would've mistaken her for a crook of stone he took the chance to cry on.
He failed to see how she raised a hand to push him away.
He failed to see how her fingers twitched in hesitation
He didn't fail to feel the hand wrap around his shoulder, arm slung in a loose hug.
Fei felt his tears seep through the shoulder of green fabric.
"My gege raised me."
"What?" He scoffed, nose still stuffed and muffled, "Your baba didn't?"
"He always working," she shrugged, "we need money. Money is…is for eating. Money for…for clothes. Money for school."
"They let you go to school?" Earth Kingdom peasants don't let their women learn, he remembered the haughty tone of his tutors, but, with the help of the Fire Nation, we can correct such backward thinking!
Her face, however, simply soured in perplexity, knees pulled closer to her chest, "What?"
"Earth Kingdom women don't go to school."
"…huh," she shook her head, "I think…I had lucky."
Zuko's brows furrowed together, "You went to school, and you don't know common Earth tongue?"
"Me learned little," she pinched her thumb and index finger together, "Ah…baba taught me Earth language—but I forgot."
He snorted, "Seriously? How could you forget?"
Miss Fei's eyes drifted towards the Earth kingdom fabric draped on her knees, focused, yet distant from the small room that confined them:
"…I wanted to forget."
Zuko could've only guessed what that meant.
"Your fire."
"What about my fire?"
"How much hot?'
He almost laughed, "What?"
"I want to know: how much hot?"
"…I don't know—what are you doing?"
"I have idea," her fingers wrapped around his wrist, and she positioned his palm to face the ceiling, "Firebend, please."
"Why—?"
"Idea. Firebend."
"For the love Agni," He groaned, seeing her adamance on the action. Zuko let in a breath, his ribs expanded under the strain of oxygen, and his chi was ignited by the trickles of air that filled his stomach.
Fire comes from the breath, he almost heard his oji's chastising remarks.
A spark flickered at the exhale, a flame small but consistent in strength and heat. A bubble of light engulfed the both of them and the girl's contemplativeness shone brighter in Zuko's eye—her gaze never left the balanced flame.
Her hand reached to cup the heat.
Panic seized his muscles.
The prince instinctively pulled the flame away from her grasp, "What are you doing?" He hissed, "Do you want to burn yourself?"
The look on her face bordered the line of unreadable, a contemplativeness that read everything and, ultimately, nothing.
The girl tilted her head towards him, "How old when you Firebend?"
He blinked, "I was seven, what—?"
"You how old, today?"
"Sixteen years," he sighed, "Why are you asking me these questions? These are pointless."
"You Firebend at seven and now you're sixteen. Nine years. Firebending."
"And?"
"I think…I think you know how Firebend. You Firebend—uh—nine years," She gave him a pointed look. She pulled the cupped flame closer to her own figure, "And me been burn before—this," she gestured towards the small burst of chi sprouting at his palm, "this will not hurt."
"I—" her calloused fingers emerged in the light, the rough texture pulled him out of the train of thought. The words died in his mouth once he saw the dark marks on the back of her hand—precise in their shapes, but random enough in placement to assure him they were accidents (Agni, please let them be accidents).
But what burned her? He couldn't help but wonder.
Was she a factory worker? An apprentice to a swords-smith—was her brother a blacksmith? Her father?
The flame started to swell in the silence.
"Xiao xin," careful, he murmured.
The corners of her lips started to twitch, "Your…uh…fire need more hot—please."
The room grew brighter.
"…How did you run faster than my crew?"
"You ask…" Her brows bunched together in a concentrated knot, "How…I run…very fast?"
"Right, right." Zuko still didn't believe the ruckus she caused on her first day on The Wani.
His traitorous mind brought him back to the hallway, the force of her stride that sent him to the floor: Father trained her? Maybe she's an air bender, they were said to be faster than the wind. Brother trained her. Maybe Dong Yan accidentally fed her some herbs that made her hyperactive—?
"School."
He blinked, "What?"
She hesitated, fingers fumbled with a loose stitch of thread at the hip, "I—uh…school."
"Yes, I know you said that! What do you mean by school? Do they train you in running there?"
"We…play game," Fei failed to meet his eyes, "they teach us game."
"…Do you mean sports?" Yundong?
"S…sports?" she hummed "Sports…sports…spooooorts—"
"Yeah yeah, you know the word now," He rolled his eyes, "Running is a sport?"
"…It is sport at home—Yeah."
…Well, it's not like my tutors ever had any interest in teaching me about Earth Kingdom sports—his lips pursed together.
"Is…is it a fun sport?"
Her shoulders relaxed, "I think it's very fun…I—ah…run many time."
"…What other sports are there…at your home?"
"…You want to know about my home?"
He scoffed, "Just the sports, but sure."
He never saw a wider smile.
Fei's eyes never left the dent in the wall, "Give me hand."
A bead of sweat trickled down Zuko's neck, his mind only on the sustained flame, held at that perfect temperature. If it was Azula, he huffed, steam escaping the nostrils, she wouldn't have this problem—precision had always been her thing, after all.
Meanwhile, I'm the one that struggles to be anywhere close to good.
"Too hot! Too hot!"
Shit— the flame went back to its flickering yellow, "This better work."
"It will…uh…fast."
"Be quick, it will be quick."
"Quick…quick…qui—"
"Spirits, hurry up!"
"I am sor—" she swallowed the apology at the sharpness in the prince's eyes: the glare that threatened to shout, "Right."
Her hand guided his flame toward the dented wall. His palm was positioned towards the aberration in the panel, the girl's eyes squinted at the flame that billowed by her cheek, but gaze kept steady.
Zuko's breaths grew shaky. The fire summoned wasn't anything like the flame during his training: the fire he familiarized himself with was wild and destructive, greedy and famished, a flame that constantly needed fuel and did anything to seek that fuel. But the fire the girl—Nora had required was the epitome of control and precision.
Anger, the most common fuel, had proven to be too erratic.
But breath?
It was a constant flow, a natural cycle of the body that stoked the fires of chi.
And somehow, despite meditating with Iroh, despite training with him every morning—
—Why do I have to struggle to create a consistent flame—?!
—Hey, hey! Watch it! The fire, remember?
Inhale.
—Ugh, I can hear oji already telling me "I told you so."
He would never say that.
He wouldn't, but he would want to.
Exhale.
Are we really trusting this girl?
It's not the craziest thing you've ever attempted.
Do you even know what idea she has in mind?
…Son of a—!
Inhale.
Is she trying to melt the metal?
Maybe…but the fire isn't hot enough to melt the metal.
Does she even know what she's doing—?
"Stop," she commanded, and he was more than happy to oblige.
The flame flickered out and her face disappeared into the darkness, her back highlighted by Tui's grace. Zuko let out a breath, a plume of flame escaped his lips and, for a brief second, he saw her stand against the glowing metal wall. The only sound exchanged between the two of them were his heavy and her steady breaths.
She turned around, back towards the paneled wall.
Fei took in a breath—what is she—?
BAM!
Her boot slammed against the dent—
—And the dent was undone.
The girl stumbled forward at the force of her own fruition, sprouting curses of a language outside his comprehension. Zuko scrambled to his feet with a scarred eye focused on the metal wall, suddenly fixed with a little heat and the force of a boot.
How did—?
No—there's actually no way, right?
His hand reached the panel—
—And it swung on the hinge of its screw.
The hallway's lanterns had died long ago, and the moon's lunar glory had never seemed brighter. He heard quiet footsteps stumble from behind him; her words ran faster than he could've imagined. Every hard r, every trill of the tongue, every vowel that poured from her mouth fell in a natural cadence. Her grin grew with every turn of phrase.
He didn't know if it was her footsteps or the excited beating of her wild heart.
Zuko didn't know what to say, "…It…worked?"
The girl took the chance to scramble through while the prince sat there, dumbstruck. He only watched as she studied the panels surrounding their make-shift door, mumbling gibberish as she poked at the little imperfections on the wall.
As if they meant something.
As if she could've read the patterns of metal.
Monkey-feathers, it worked.
But… how?!
Was this just chance?
Was she just incredibly lucky?
Zuko's mouth was agape, yet his words were caught in the flurry of thoughts.
Fei met his eyes, and only at that moment did he realize how exhaustion and fatigue truly held her gaze: her glance was puffy, her hair a nest of blue, and the golden clip barely hung onto the stray strands.
She tilted her head, "…Zuko?"
"Hm?"
"Do you want leave?"
"What?"
Her eyes snapped to the panel in his hand and his body glued to the filthy floor. He looked down, the ribbons in his ponytail loosened with each frigid movement.
"…Oh."
She sighed and snapped a hand out toward his frozen figure, "You want…help?"
…For the love of Agni, what am I doing?
Zuko swatted her hand away and she drew it back at his scowl's demand. He pushed himself out of the room, sprouting grumbles of curses from under his breath—I'm acting more like a fool than I ever had before.
It's because of that girl—
No.
Excuse me?
No—it's because of me.
The metal panel slid shut from behind him, and the air never smelt fresher: Maybe it wasn't luck. Maybe it wasn't chance. Maybe…he swallowed—I underestimated her.
She isn't an idiot.
She isn't a prostitute.
She was never any lesser.
Zuko truly felt like a fool—and it wasn't her fault.
His feet shifted in place, "…Fei?"
"Nora." she murmured under her breath, "You need what—?"
He swallowed his pride, "I'm…sorry."
Her surprise shone as bright as the rising day: "…You apologize?"
"Isn't that what 'I'm sorry' means?"
"You said apology make weak."
"I know I know."—Agni, why did I have to say all those things to her?— "Do you not want me to apologize?"
"No! No!" She waved her hands, "I just surprise."
"Well, I'm sorry."
"…Why?"
He sighed, "I…you—we—" he paused—How do I explain this?
"…I called you ben dan when I was really the ben dan. I—well—I thought you were uneducated because you couldn't speak my language, and I let that stop me from treating you like a guest." Zuko looked away, "It was dishonorable, and I let my crew act dishonorable because of it—I—"
The inner flame of his chi awoke to the new morning.
Is it morning already—?
Oh.
The crew.
The sun rose above that faithful horizon, and the first signs of consciousness arose from the ship—murmurs, footsteps, doors squealing on its hinges.
A yawn resounded from the door right next to the pair: hair messy, eyes dreary, and body still used to its natural slump.
The door squealed on its hinges—
Mieko froze; Golden eyes met brown and likewise. The prince tried to add a sharpness to his exhausted glare and from the corner of his eye—
—The girl's footing looked as if she was about to break into a sprint at any moment.
The boatswain cleared his throat, "Zuko-buchou."
"Boatswain Mieko."
"What are you doing with—?" His eyes grew wide, topknot bobbed between the two teens, "Wait—so it's Iroh-sama and you—?!"
"Shut up."
"Zuko-buchou—?"
"Are you deaf, Mieko? Shut your mouth."
A grimace grew on the boatswain's face, scrunched up into a ball of displeasure.
"Before you start sprouting nonsense to the rest of the crew," His averted gaze didn't go unnoticed, "I want you to wake everyone up and tell them to meet us on deck."
"I—"
"That's an order, Boatswain."
There were rumors on The Wani—and that was the problem.
On his left, stood his oji: General Iroh, Xifang de Long, The Dragon of the West, the first-born son to Firelord Azulon.
He was a man that many had heard of and deserved to respect, a man that had earned his titles and stood his ground.
But that respect was smothered to the ground by the boot of a rumor.
To his right stood Fei—Nora, he reminded himself. He remembered her adamance to address her by her given name rather than her family name.
She was a girl that many had heard of and could only speculate, a girl that earned none of the labels people had placed on her, simply because she had no titles, to begin with.
And in the middle stood Zuko—Banished prince, first-born son to Firelord Ozai, the captain of The Wani. He knew his labels, he knew his titles—
—And as their prince, their respect should be clear.
"Zuko-oji," The old man's concern seeped through the wrinkled corners of his eyes, "I am impressed by your initiative—but I must admit, I find it a bit strange that you summon us here first thing in the morning. You usually wait until breakfast to have these meetings—"
"I know."
"Oi, if you would allow me to advise you—"
"I'll be fine, oji." In the corner of his eye, Fei shuffled in place, hands under her arms, and tired eyes shifted between Iroh and the metal floor, "…Could you…translate for her?"
Surprise colored the old man's face, "Oi?"
"It's just that…she's up here with me, and she should be able to know what I'm going to say, right?"
Warmth filled the old man's features, "What a considerate oi."
"Oji—"
"Don't keep them waiting. They have a ship to take care of, after all."
Zuko couldn't help but roll his eyes.
"There are…rumors on The Wani," The chatter started to fade away, attention drawn to the scarred boy. A breeze threatened to send goose flesh up his arms. The sun had never felt so bright (too bright), "Regarding General Iroh and the guest on the ship."
Some went silent.
Others murmured.
Some started to snicker.
Disgraceful—
His teeth grinder together, "Is there something funny, Daiki?" The green-eyed soldier went silent, though laughter threatened to bubble from his throat. Zuko didn't know whether to be frustrated with him or the others that swallowed their humor quicker than Daiki could, "It's not funny to speak against a member of the royal line."
"It's—" The man cleared his throat, "You're upset because I said what we're all thinking?"
"And what makes you think that…that disgusting rumor has any truth? A little girl goes to his bedroom?"
"Are you bringing us out here because it's your turn with the girl?" Zuko's eyes snapped to a flustered Mieko—of course he couldn't keep his mouth fucking shut.
"Neither I nor General Iroh would stoop so low as to take advantage of a guest on our ship."
"Guest? Is that what you call her?"
Zuko scowled, but before his fire could lash and flicker—
The Dragon of the West put a firm hand on his shoulder, "You did well." He whispered though a calculated glint shone in those golden irises, "But, I think I could be able to step in—"
"Out of my way, oji!" He shook away his hand and advanced toward the green-eyed idiot. He hoped to wipe the smug grin off his face, "I can handle this."
"But—"
"I am not a child, oji, I can handle these useless scruffles—"
He paused; the blue-haired girl tugged on the draped sleeve. Her hair clip bobbed with every slight movement, and reflections of sunlight bounced about the surface of the boat: "Zuko. They no listen."
"I know—"
"Leave…alone. We need give them…uh…time. Yes?"
He scoffed, "So what, you stand up to me but you don't stand up to them and expect me to just leave it alone? I'm not going to leave it alone just because you're too scared to stand up to them."
"No true—! I am no scared!"
"Then what do you want me to say, huh? You told me to tell them to leave you alone and to stop the rumors, I can't just leave this be!"
The girl nibbled on the inside of her cheek, the light of thought lit up her features and shone in her distant gaze. Her leg shook against the metal floors, a fingernail tapped against her thigh.
Then, her brown irises held the gleam of an epiphany:
"…You say they run…very…very slow…yes?"
"Since we have a new member on board," Agni, I can't believe I'm saying this, "we'll deduct your pay for the next month to accommodate for the new addition."
Protest erupted from the crowd.
A tsunami of chatter crashed onto the hull.
Daiki's smug grin fell from his face, "What?! But she's just a…a guest on the ship!"
"I thought you said otherwise, Daiki." The remark made his face turn a furious scarlet.
The rest had made their displeasure clear as the sudden day:
"Our allowance is being deducted because of the ship escort?"
"This is hog-shit!"
"We already have little to no money for ourselves—!"
"What could she use the money for?"
"Of course!" Zuko's voice cut through the hull. Fei's lips were pulled into a line of neutrality, though eyes conveyed a rare impatience, "There are alternatives."
The blur of conversation lowered to nothing more than a hiss.
"I've seen how atrocious your performance was when our guest first awoke on the ship. Really? Members of the Fire Nation army couldn't catch up with a mere Earth Kingdom peasant?" He shook his head, "I can't let that insolence slide. If you're unprepared for an Earth Kingdom girl, what hopes do you have catching The Avatar?"
The crowd descended into hushed whispers.
Intrigue grew in his uncle's eyes, "Oi, what are you doing—?"
This is such a stupid idea—
—But her seemingly idiotic ideas had worked before.
He pictured the dark and dreary room, a room that was meant for him and him alone; until the spirits had forced him to share.
"I am giving you all an opportunity to gain your money back individually if you manage to beat Fei Nora in a race."
Daiki scoffed, "So what? We have to train ourselves and keep racing against her until we win?"
A smug grin threatened to twitch the corners of the prince's mouth, "Yes, you'll be undergoing training under the fastest member of our crew, for a month. If you complete the training and beat the master, you'll get your full allowance."
Murmurs resounded throughout the crowd.
Out of all of them, Mieko had realized the implications.
His eyes grew wide, face drained of color: "Beat the master—? Wait a minute, you don't mean—?"
"I introduce to you the newest member of The Wani," Zuko took the girl by her braceleted wrist. A small, wary smile grew—a shy grin that feigned innocence:
"Tomorrow, you'll be calling her Master Fei Nora."
I think the only one I got is:
"San-nen ga tachimashita," = (Japanese) It's been three years.
I also tried to play around with the idea that people in Japan don't really address others by their given name, as it's seen as too casual. I think it's an exception with Zuko and Iroh because they don't have a last name in the show. I'd like to think that the royal family doesn't have a last name—they're just so well known for their title and their given name.
But anyway, see you guys whenever I'll come around