"Hey, man - you ever hear the story about Oma and Shu?"
"Aren't you supposed to be at the helm right now?"
Captain Chong lounged lazily beside the Prince, strumming his lute, as the boat drifted into colder waters, faster currents. They had not yet reached the point were an ice flows or glaciers had begun to spring up, but the sight of land was a distant memory, and the wind was bitter. Appa had been tucked away below deck, to sleep and heal; Katara had been down four times already to help with his cuts and bruises, and to set the bison's broken legs. Aang, still guilty and depressed at times, kept a better-healed Momo with him wherever he went now, and the lemur was often curled up inside the airbender's shirt to escape the growing cold. Toph was more irate nowadays because of her inability to see, but Aang cheered her up immensely one day by borrowing a pebble necklace for her from Lily, Chong's wife. Feeling earth between her hands, however small, made her brighten immensely, and she clung to that necklace for as long as they were at the Aurora Tribe.
Katara was distant, but everyone was a little tense or weary, so this went unnoticed. The waterbender sat alone at the stern of the ship, gazing back behind them like she was looking for someone to follow. A part of herself missing.
And the strangest thing was, she didn't even realize it yet.
Suki was with Lily, attempting to do some navigating while Chong played, but Sokka was unaware of this. Chong had, for some inexplicable reason, chosen to latch himself onto the Prince, and was having a mildly fun time badgering back and forth with him.
"Relax, Angry-Man. The currents guide us. Don't be so worried about the trip; enjoy the journey, man."
"You have no idea if we're going the right way, do you?" Sokka snarled.
"Hey, we're going north. Aurora Tribe's north. You know?" Chong waved his hand distractedly, played a few chords.
"Ok, great. Let's just drift along aimlessly. I'm sure a passing penguin will give us directions if we get lost," muttered Sokka irritably. Chong raised an eyebrow, stopped playing for a minute, then broke into a huge smile.
"Hey! You're a funny Prince. I've never met a funny Prince before. I think I'll write a song about you."
Aang laughed as Sokka sighed and dropped his head exasperatedly. Distracted by the Avatar's mirth, Chong effectively forgot the conversation with Sokka and focused on the more up-beat airbender.
"Hey - Master Arrowhead! You ever heard Secret Tunnel? It's a real legend..."
Toph stumbled her way past the three men as Chong began to bang out Secret Tunnel on his lute, much to Sokka's annoyance and Aang's delight. The earthbender was, understandably, not having the best of time tip-toeing around on a wooden vessel where she couldn't see, but Katara was almost always in the same place on the baot these days, so she'd figure she'd try and find the way there herself. Katara called out to her to let her know where she was; and then, in shock, the waterbender noticed that Toph was wearing a thick, fuzzy-looking pair of boot.
"Toph! Are you?"
"Yeah, I'm wearing shoes, I know," she grumbled, grabbing her sister's should blindly and sitting down beside her, CHong's music playing in the background. "It's getting cold. Sokka made me put them on."
"I'm sorry," and truly, Katara knew how much Toph hated shoes, and hated the idea of the Northern Aurora Tribe altogether.
"I won't be able to see a thing there, will I?" the earthbender said distractedly. Katara put an arm around her sister's shoulders, one because it would comfort Toph, and also because it was getting very chilly out.
"Probably not... It'll be all ice, the way dad told it."
"...Damn," Toph snorted, crossing her arms unhappily.
For awhile they sat there without speaking, listening as Chong played his music, his voice rough but rather charming over the constant rush of the sea. There was no cry of gull to add to his chorus, as they were too far from land; but the ocean itself was like a meter, a beat to his tunes, and in infinite understanding of the pace of nature, Chong used this to his advantage. Even Sokka, still gloomy-faced, was starting to sway a little to Chong's music.
"It really is getting colder," Katara didn't really know why she said it. She had remembered the story of Chong, the nomad, whom she had read of in the Library. Those days seemed so far away it was almost unreal. Alone with Zuko beneath a million falling stars.
"So? You always said how much you preferred the cold," Toph reminded her.
Zuko's strong arms around her. The dizzying warmth of his embrace, the fire running through his veins.
"...Yeah, I guess I did say that..."
Break
They were halfway to Acchai before Zuko spoke to anyone.
The caravan they had infiltrated was a settlement party traveling to the sea, and it consisted mostly of small, impoverished families. The crowded streets of Masabi, while always bringing in dreamy-eyed foreigners with visions of gold-lined streets, were also constantly pouring out the most despairing citizens back into the cruel world. A rumor of an uncultivated island had reached the ears of this particular group, and they had compiled all their worldly possessions into the dangerous journey; camels and goat-mules and donkeys were packed with clothing, tinder, dried meat, fruit, blankets, water; precious family heirlooms were tucked away in the deepest pockets, gold watches, strings of pearls - these peasant's sole bartering chips against thieves. Children were everywhere, which Jeong-Jeong was rather unused to, resisting the urge to swat them away whenever they came laughing and running towards his tiger-stallion. Mothers were always around, but many of them were widows, or wives of soldiers sent to fight for Long Feng. Men were scarce in such parties, but to employ protection was a price none of them could pay, and their chances for survival through the paths of Acchai was slim. Much was their praise, then, when the grand General Jeong-Jeong offered his protection along with the soldiers under his command, all at no price - save that no one betray them to the Emperor. But there was no love for the Emperor among the peasants, so there was little worry.
Hakoda was a myth among these people. As soon as the words were spoke - Chief of the Aurora Tribe - people dropped to their knees in awe, for the memory of the noble Water Tribes had long been legend in the East. Their reverence was a little misplaced, however; many thought Hakoda was magic, as was a common belief about the water-people, and could implore the gods for aid or guidance in their favor. Hakoda denied these claims, but many of them still took to superstition when he was near; they poured water on their heads, or wore their seal-skin cloaks, or said prayers over their blue and yellow coral pendants.
Jeong-Jeong was too busy drilling Zuko in his firebending techniques to notice the strange acts of the people - in fact, he had been training the heir of Agni for the entire course of the caravan's departure from Masabi. Zuko had raw power and force and passion to fuel him, but his form was sloppy, and his basics were still unmastered. Through hours and meditation and drilling sets, Jeong-Jeong had attempted to improve the firebender's skills, and to some degree it was working - the only flaw was, half the time Zuko wasn't even paying attention to Jeong-Jeong, too wrapped up in the memory of Katara's kiss.
The General finally decided to snap the heir of Agni out of his delusions when the caravan stopped at a watering spot, to get drink for the camels and other pack-creatures. As the animals drank and the other travelers relaxed, Jeong-Jeong put Zuko through some steady endurance training, much to Zuko's discomfort.
He was balancing on a stake Jeong-Jeong had slammed into the earth by one huge, powerful hand. Veins were sticking out slightly from Zuko's skin, strained with the position he was in; legs suspended straight up above him, right arm extended out to his side. A red flame was flickering in his free palm. Jeong-Jeong's instructions were simple; every five minutes or so, or when one arm got too tired, he was to switch the hand suspending him on the stake - passing the flame to the other hand, without letting it go out.
Hakoda did not sit down beside Jeong-Jeong, who was meditating and watching Zuko. There was a long, thin parcel strapped to the General's back. Hakoda stopped for a moment on his way to water his own steed, an fierce-tempered ostrich-horse.
"Do you think he'll pass in Acchai?"
The General opened his eyes from meditating and studied the young firebender. Zuko was strong, but not tempered strong; he did not know his limitations yet, and so his efforts fluctuated. At the moment he was doing fairly well with balancing his weight, but the flame in palm was low and weak; he was not concentrating on what he was doing, despite the strenuous nature of it all.
"He needs a proper mount. And proper armor. And he should slay for a panther-skin, if is he to be respected," the General decided.
Hakoda watched as Zuko, in a slow, painful fashion, lowered his outstretched arm, where he was holding the flame. Gingerly, forehead beaded with sweat, whole body tensed and burning with the effort, he lowered his flame-coated hand beside the one supporting him on the stake. Then, as quickly and fluidly as he could, he breathed out - and switched hands, flame burning on in his right palm, left arm supporting his whole weight.
"I can get him the mount and armor," Hakoda was slightly impressed with Zuko's ability, but could not yet show that to the firebender himself. "You'll have to see about the skin."
Then he left Jeong-Jeong, who stood purposefully and strode across to Zuko. Zuko only knew he was there by the sigh of his shadow on the ground; but even then he could feel the piercing, ferocious gaze of the General, fixed on him with such focused intensity it made him feel slightly nauseous.
"You're mind is not on the task at hand."
Zuko stared at his ground, golden eyes piercing with the exertion it took to hold his position. The flame flickered unsurely between his fingers.
Katara's kiss beneath a slow sea breeze. Her fingers gliding up the back of his neck. Sweet and salty.
Jeong-Jeong kicked the stake with such blind force it snapped in three places.
Zuko couldn't even cry out; he simply fell, hard, sickening crunch as his shoulder joint popped out of place. Jeong-Jeong already had his foot on the firebender's chest before all the splinters had stopped falling.
"Where is your mind?"
Zuko didn't answer, face riddled suddenly as pain shot up and down his arm. He didn't react to the General - his fire was quenched, for he knew not why. He gave in to the pain abruptly and eagerly. He had never given in so quickly before, and Jeong-Jeong saw it, and fire bled into his eyes.
Infuriated, the General grabbed him by his black hair, pulling him up harshly, feet leaving liens in the sand. Zuko struggled to escape the General's grip, but put so little effort into the attempt that Jeong-Jeong broke his attack before it began. With one swift motion the General spun the firebender passed him, took his forearm in one hand, and snapped his shoulder back into place. Zuko cried out and staggered past him, stumbling back to the ground, arm searing.
"You're not listening to me. You're not even listening to the pain. Where is your mind?"
"I..."
But Zuko ached. Deeply, inwardly, he ached in a way that no physical wound could top. And it was sapping the strength and fire from him.
He wanted Katara.
"Get up!"
Jeong-Jeong threw his boot into Zuko's side so hard that Zuko rolled across the ground, cutting his back on rock and briar. Choking up dust, he tried to get to get to his feet; but then the General's hand was back on his head, and before Zuko could react, Jeong-Jeong had jabbed his knee into Zuko's face and cracked his nose so hard it poured fresh blood down across his face.
Zuko flung out one arm wildly, making contact with some part of the General, but too blind and dizzy to actually land a blow; and then there was another fist spinning his head to the left, and then a kick to his chest that sent the breathe rushing out his lungs, forcing him back to the ground. Heaving and gasping for air, he rolled over, trembling, bloody nose and mouth making puddles of red on the ground.
"How do you expect to conquer the Lords of Acchai if you cannot even stand to face me?" the General yelled.
This time Zuko saw the boot coming out of the corner of his eye. Rolling over, he caught Jeong-Jeong's boot mid-kick and tried to force him off balance by dragging his leg down. The General simply pun fluidly, gracefully, and slammed his elbow into the middle of the firebender's chest.
Zuko's own heart seemed to scream in pain - and then somehow he was back up again, supported by Jeong-Jeong's fist in his hair, and the scarred man was before him like a hellfire, like death incarnate.
"You are weak!"
And Zuko roared.
He spat fire into the General's face, and surprised by the act, he stumbled back, dropping the wounded Zuko. Zuko landed hard on his knees, so that they skin tore; but he was stumbled back up in a moment, punching deep into the General's jaw. Jeong-Jeong, not all that put off by Zuko's desperation, countered the next punch only for Zuko to drop down and kick fire beneath his feet. The General leapt away, assumed a bending stance, as Zuko panted painfully before him.
"Why did it take you so long to hit me back?" Jeong-Jeong demanded. Zuko stared at him beneath sweat and blood and black hair, his face a mess of crimson from his still-bleeding nose.
"I don't want to do this," he admitted, and there was a broken tone in his voice that enraged, maddened the General. Suddenly his hands were full of white fire, and he was before Zuko, more terrifying than a wrathful dragon, hands above him to bring down the torrent of flame. Zuko felt the heat wash over him like he was already burning.
"Then you are still nothing but a boy!"
Zuko barely deflected the fury of the General's blow. Wind and white fire rushed passed him; he felt his shoulders and feet sear, begin to burn. Desperate not to be consumed with Jeong-Jeong's flame, he struck his own current of red fire through the inferno, towards where he guessed the General to be. When the flame finally parted and he realized he had missed, Jeong-Jeong attacked him from the side.
"You're friends faith in you - the future of this world! Does it mean anything to you?"
Fire flew between them, the glint of Jeong-Jeong's blade. Suddenly Zuko was weaponless before a demonic General, trying to slice the heir of Agni into several roasted pieces. Zuko tried to remember how had defeated Jeong-Jeong in their duel at Al-Abhad; something to do with his youth and determination had aided him, and he tried desperately to get back his old, infuriated fire.
"Do you even believe you can do this?" Jeong-Jeong was toying with him, making him dance backwards, avoid the swing of metal and the rush of flame.
Zuko remembered Jet. In the burning building in Balda Haram. Somehow believing that he could make a difference, could bring truth back to the world. That they wouldn't always have to crawl beneath earthbender's feet. He remembered Aang's words before departing, Sokka's friendship, Hakoda's words, Jeong-Jeong's training and trust in the desert caravan.
They all believed he could do this.
Katara believed he could do this.
Jeong-Jeong brought the blade down towards Zuko's chest. But suddenly Zuko was beside the blow, and Jeong-Jeong's wrists were twisted back, snapped into place, dagger point against the General's neck. Cutting off a few hairs from his white beard. Zuko could have thrust the point into the General's jugular from this angle.
"I can unite Acchai," he exclaimed.
He barely saw the smile on the General's face before he felt the crushing pain in his side, and realized he'd left himself wide-open for an attack. Then his feet were in the air, and the dagger was back inJeong-Jeong's possession, and he was on the ground before the Master.
"Good. You are one step closer to becoming a man."
Jeong-Jeong took off the parcel strapped to his back and threw it as Zuko's feet. Two gleaming, twin blades fell part-ways out, crested with a Fire Insignia.
The sign of the House Of Agni.
Break
BTW: Captain Chong vs. Captain Jack Sparrow?