"Where exactly do you live?" Zuko asked. Jet had offered to take him to his apartment to talk about what exactly he did, and they had to been walking for almost thirty minutes. Ba Sing Se seemed to spread endlessly across his field of sight. The capital didn't even stretch out this much. There were elegant, and regal parts of the city, where men and women with ornate hair pieces and clothing walked to elaborate homes. There were parts of the city that were desolate and almost empty, dusty and dry. Then they got to where Jet said, "it's close," and the city was crowded, but dirty. The homes were old, and in need of repair, the shops boarded up tightly for the night, and the people scattered and laid about the city, barely clothed, and looking sick.
"Where are we?"
"The Lower Ring. This is where most of the refugees live. Your fortunate that your uncle has made himself a good living."
Zuko felt small as a man among the people he saw, whom he should be living like. His privilege as a prince continued to follow him. "I am fortunate."
They navigated through the crowds of people, until they came to a door in a wall that seemed like solid rock. "Is this where you live?" Zuko asked, trying to hide his scowl but not succeeding.
"Sorta, have you heard of the Crystal Catacombs?"
"It was originally carved by the earth benders of Ba Sing Se," Zuko assumed they had been destroyed during the war. "Are they still there?"
"Follow me," Jet offered him his hand, and Zuko just looked at it questioningly. "It's a rocky climb." Jet opened the door and showed him down a flight of earthen stairs, uneven and worn.
"I'll manage." Zuko replied, embarrassed for some reason.
Jet shrugged, and lead him down the stairs, informing him of changes in slope. The hallway immediately grew darker as Jet shut the door, but he walked down them with practiced care. "The steps are bigger here, so watch out."
"You don't have to guide me. I'm not an old woman." Zuko announced.
"Alright," Jet said, throwing his hands up in a gesture Zuko could barely see. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."
Zuko had trained in darkness, night being the natural enemy of fire benders. His master had said he had to harness the light within him, take the fire burning in his belly and light the darkness himself. However, Zuko was unwilling to let Jet know he was a fire bender, yet. If the situation became dangerous, he could quickly overpower him, with the element of his birth and that of surprise. But if the situation wasn't dangerous, he could hold off on letting Jet know, possibly for forever. He could feel the hatred in Jet's words when he told him about his family, and Zuko wasn't ready to let that hatred be leashed onto him.
Without being able to fire bend, his training in darkness was essentially useless, but his eyes adjusted more quickly than he had expected.
Jet didn't say anything as the slope decreased, and Zuko anticipated a much larger step. The prince lost his balance, and Jet swiftly turned around, and caught him by the shoulders. Zuko tried to take a breath in, but it caught in his throat. He was thankful for the darkness to hide his flushing face, but he was sure Jet's trained eyes could see it.
Jet began, "Are you sure you don't want me to-"
"I'm okay."
Jet didn't respond, but he moved back so he was beside Zuko and placed his arm under his. He locked his elbow, and pulled him up.
"I really don't-"
"I need your skull intact for the job." Jet responded quickly, starting to walk again. "And I assume you need it as well."
Zuko frowned, but followed his lead. "Is this how you take girls down here?"
"Hah, rarely," Jet smiled.
"Can you tell me about this job? What exactly do you do?"
"You could say I work in entertainment."
"Entertainment? Like, theatre?"
Jet laughed. "No, not like theatre. More like entertainment and leisure activities."
Zuko didn't say anything, but his lack of response showed more curiosity than he'd let on.
"Many people in this part of town are miserable. I can't put it nicely. The life of a refugee isn't a pleasant one, nor is the life of a poor worker. I offer them ways to help."
"Like what?" Zuko tried to loosen his elbow from Jet's, unsuccessfully.
"Hold on, you'll love this."
They came to the end of the stairwell, where there was a dim light. In spite of the well-anticipated light, both Jet and Zuko found themselves looking at each other. Zuko skin was tinged a light pink, and Jet made sure to take notice of how his expression changed when they walked into the brightness of the catacombs. Light green crystals glowed around them, providing the much needed light. The floor was dry, and the walls were high. Carved into the stone, were rooms covered by tapestries with characters written above them in symbols familiar to Zuko but arranged in foreign patterns. It had to be a different dialect.
He inhaled as he took it all in. It was more beautiful than the palace had been, even during celebrations and festivals. But the smell was heavy and dank, the air thick with unfamiliar smokes.
"You live here?" Zuko asked, turning his eyes to Jet whose gaze remained unbroken.
"Yeah, and work here. Let me show you." In spite of the light, they kept their arms interlocked as they walked. No one was around, and the place was calmly quiet, interrupted only by the sound of their footsteps. Jet invited him into a specific room, hidden by a green and gold tapestry. The room revealed a spot on the ground for sleeping, several books, pipes, cigarettes, a pad with poorly written names, and addresses scrawled on it, and a light, unlit. Zuko had to fight the temptation to light it himself in order to see more. Jet lifted the tapestry for Zuko, who looked for a place to sit. Upon finding none, he stood, and waited for Jet to join him.
"The Lower Ring is the poorest part of the city. When I came to Ba Sing Se, it was the only place for me to live. I fell in with who some would call the wrong crowd, but they protected and took good care of me." He lit the light to tint the walls a warm gray, and light a cigarette with the same match. He offered one to Zuko, who declined. He continued. "We called ourselves the Freedom Fighters, because the war was still going on. We fought against becoming colonies, but clearly we weren't successful. Because of our radical nature, we started holding meetings down here. Before I go any further, you should know: this is where most of the city's prostitution and drug deals go through."
Zuko was taken aback. In the royal courts, he heard of them using opiates after war injuries, which turned into lifelong dependences. His father claimed they were weak, and broken half-men, with a part of their brain destroyed. His father was the same man who had many, many mistresses, from all the nations, highborn and otherwise. Sometimes, men outside the palace would smoke sweet smelling leaves, not as harsh smelling as cigarettes, but just as potent. Determined to show an expression that would convey knowledge of this part of the world, Zuko looked at him sternly. "Do you want me to be a prostitute?" His expression remained, but his voice broke at the last word.
"No." Jet was serious, as though he hadn't noticed.
"Do you want me to sell drugs?"
"No." Jet shook his head sympathetically.
"Then what do you want me to do?"
"I don't do anything with the prostitution side of it, but I do know most of them. I do, however, have a hand in the opium trade. It's the biggest seller down here. Sure deal, and also a safe deal. Plenty of people in high places use it, as well as the people down here."
"Why are you telling me all this?"
"Full disclosure. If you're gonna work with me, you should know what all you're getting into. Call it a gentlemen's agreement."
"This sounds illegal."
"I don't see you going to the Dai Li, though."
Zuko swallowed. "So what exactly do you want me to do? I'm not gonna sell myself, or drugs, so what do you want me to do?"
"I want you to be a fighter."
Azula had called the Royal Court to meet with her. Mai had asked if she had the authority to do so, but Azula had only said authority must be made, not given.
"I've called you here to propose a plan." She began, her words practiced and careful.
"Yes, your majesty." General Zhao replied.
"I would like to tour my kingdom, and see what they require from me as their queen."
The court was silent.
"If I am to be queen, that is," She backtracked, not as expertly as she had executed the first portion of her speech. "I want them to know that I'm a contender, and I would like to see what they'd like see change."
"That's quite unorthodox, your highness." Zhao commented.
"If I know how to serve my people better, I feel my candidacy stands a better chance. All I've seen of life is within our palace walls, barely even that of our outlying islands. I serve an entire nation. And even if I'm not queen, I hope you'd still take what the people and I have to say into consideration when making decisions that affect the entire kingdom."
"Certainly," General Zhao was taken aback by the final sentence. "Where would you plan to travel first?"
"The Earth Kingdom, as there is already great unrest in the colonies."
"I never knew you cared so much about your people."
"General Zhao, it's in my blood." She feigned a pained expression, placing a hand over her heart. "They're my people. I'm no longer conquering them. We're now building a grand nation with them. They should be a part of it too."
"How diplomatic of you," Announced a voice from the court.
"The earth kingdom would welcome you, princess." Added a member of the court representing said kingdom.
"I graciously accept your offer." Azula kept her hand over heart, and bowed her head. "My own court, Mai and Ty Lee, will accompany me. We'll leave tomorrow, first thing in the morning for New Azulon. It's only fitting the city baring my name should be the first place we visit."
"If we need to contact you, we'll write to the Earth Kingdom Embassy." General Zhao bowed to her.
"I appreciate it, General Zhao."
The court dispelled, and Azula was surrounded quickly by Mai and Ty Lee.
"Do you think they fell for it?" Ty Lee asked.
"Zhao knows that's all horse shit." Azula sighed, and let her back relax against the throne. "But he knows how much the peasants in the dirt kingdom will love to hear that."
"Clearly they already did." Ty Lee chimed in.
"Predictably," Azula commented. "It's like playing Pai Sho against a toddler… Mai, who else are they considering for the throne?" Azula did not allow herself to relax for this question. She placed a hand on her obviously tense neck and almost picked her head up by it.
"You, Zhao, and…" She paused.
"And?" Azula's eyes narrowed.
"Your brother."
"How?" She exhaled through her nose, and Ty Lee could barely see the steam leaving with the air.
"I don't see it myself, but he's still technically the first born. And he's a boy. He has basically all the qualifications of other Fire Lords."
She drug her hand from her neck to meet the other one, clasped in front of her like in prayer. Lining her digits up precisely, she placed them in front of her lips. Ty Lee and Mai both now could feel the heat conducting through the gold of the throne. It was like stepping out of a shaded room into a humid valley, with the merciful clouds miles and miles above.
Ty Lee had grown more and more afraid of Azula like this in the past few weeks. She wore a scarf Azula had sent to her from the furthest islands to cover the various burns on her body, some light and oozing, some dark and raised under the warm flesh, and some already faded to scar. Azula had always apologized, always talked about how she would have burned herself up had Ty Lee not extinguished the warm, dark feeling inside of her. She would thank her for staying with her, and sometimes cried, but not as much as she used to. At first, all she could think was of how much pain Azula had to be in. The flames of madness lapped at the insides of her stomach and her mind, until her body was fevered. Her father was dead, her mother had never loved her, and the only warmth Azula knew was the darkness inside of her. It comforted Azula, like sleeping, and now Ty Lee was waking her. Ty Lee took the burns with pride, deciding this was her sacrifice for the well being of the kingdom. She would burn so they wouldn't have to.
But that didn't stop them from hurting.
"He can't be a king as long as he's not here." Azula finally said, looking to Ty Lee. Her eyes were calm, and so Ty Lee smiled.
"Not a good king anyway." Mai answered. "They said they'd post a huge ransom for him if he became king. With his face with warrants for all that money, surely someone would notice him."
"I say we start for them." Azula announced.
"What do you mean?"
"I'm saying," She finally put her hands down back to the throne by her sides, and pushed herself up. "We find Zuzu ourselves." She let it sink in. Mai smiled, and Ty Lee felt the need to itch one of her burns, against her better knowledge. "I can hire whatever bounty hunter I want in the world, and find him quicker than any of these bearded children in the royal court."
"And what will we do when we find him?" Ty Lee asked.
"Finish what father started seven years ago."
Zuko cracked his knuckles, and exhaled through his nose, a short puff like a bull. He took a traditional fighting stance, and locked eyes with Jet.
"Do you mean a freedom fighter? Like against the Fire Nation?" Zuko had asked quickly, after Jet had first proposed it, long before they met eyes directly across from each other.
"No, we're not about that so much anymore." Jet smiled and laughed, but Zuko had barely caught the latter. "By a fighter, I mean like a fighter for hire."
"Like a mercenary?"
"You're not in the capital anymore, Li." Jet looked at him sternly, like a teacher correcting a child, but his soft voice betrayed his face. "People pay to see fights. They're angry that the war is over with no one left for them to fight. They pay me handsomely to see it, and gamble handsomely amongst each other on winners."
Zuko didn't say anything, but his mouth twisted in words unspoken.
Jet continued, "You'd make 40% of what I get a night. That's the most I've ever paid someone to fight."
"Why me?" Zuko exhaled. He had a moment of panic at the sheer idea. Even if he wasn't a prostitute, he was selling his body and skills that people in the colonies had paid for him to hone. It felt dirty, and like something he couldn't tell Uncle. He'd never want to fight in a war, and fighting in general just seemed useless at this point. There was nothing to conquer, nothing to fight for; just fighting to dirty your hands and taste the blood in your mouth.
"You look like you won't lose," Jet said with a smirk.
Something in his comment, and his smirk, made Zuko's stomach tighten. "What makes you so sure of that?" Zuko asked, allowing the comment to go to his pride, just a little.
"You're a tough guy, Li. You had your face completely fucked by your own father, and you look like you've had some training in fighting. Most of these kids here are street kids, looking to make 20 coins. I can give you names of two dozen guys who'd let you kick the shit out of them if they knew 20 coins were in it for them. It's easy work, especially for someone who looks like you."
"And I'm the only tough guy you've seen in all of Ba Sing Se?"
"The only one I'd want to work with."
Zuko stared at the dark earthen floor beneath him. The proposal still made him anxious, but there was something about the way Jet worded it that made him want to venture into his world, where people sold their bodies and then destroyed them internally for high prices underground. It was something he'd have only heard whispered about in the capital, and his family would have sheltered him from, but rightfully so. He didn't trust himself completely in this situation. He imagined a crowd of people throwing food and garbage at him for fire bending without realizing it. He imagined the hatred Jet would stare at him with, and how heavy and empty that made him feel, like he swallowed something thick and sticky.
But the way Jet was staring at him now made him feel like his heart would beat through his throat, and like he he strangely, wanted to step closer, closer to him and the world he called home.
"I'll consider it."
"I need a promise that you'll come back to me." Jet's wording, again, drew Zuko in. If he ever failed at whatever his job was, he'd make an excellent orator.
"Like what?"
"Let's fight." Jet said, as plainly as one would suggest replacing broken shoes. With the same casualty as ever, Jet asked to fight the former prince of the Fire Nation.
"You wanna fight me?" Zuko asked.
"Yeah," Jet smiled like he was anticipating how much he'd enjoy it.
"I'm the son of a soldier. I trained at the Royal Academy in swords and hand-to-hand." He left out the training he'd done most extensively.
"I'm by no means inexperienced."
"I was trained with the intention of being able to kill someone."
"You wouldn't kill me though, would you?" Jet cocked his head.
Zuko didn't say anything. There was a tense moment where they stood apart, but facing each other as always.
"If I win, you stay and fight with me."
"And if I win," Zuko began, "you never ask me about this again."
"Not leave you alone?"
Zuko paused before he responded. "If you wanted to,"
"Absolutely not," Jet shook his head, and moved to shake his hands.
"Let's not shake." Zuko said, exhaling through his nose. "This isn't a gentlemen's agreement. It's just a man's word."
A fighting stance without fire bending felt a little awkward to Zuko, but he remember training with his swords master. His sword fighting trainer was born into a noble family without the spark. He couldn't bring honor to his family with fire bending, so he studied swords and fighting until he was talented enough to train the prince. "No weapons?" Zuko asked.
They had moved from Jet's apartment to an open space, at least a mile away from where they'd entered. The place seemed abandoned but Zuko feared that someone would interrupt them. Part of him wanted someone to, and part of him sincerely wanted to lose.
"None in the ring, or out here." Jet agreed. "Man to man." He twisted his head and cracked his neck audibly.
They waited, in tense thick air, for one of them to make the first move. Their eyes both said, "no, you first."
Jet grew tired of waiting first, and charged, arms held in a cross in front of him, before leaping forward to bring a punch down on Zuko's skull. Zuko read his moves like a child's book, and ducked down, bringing his elbow up to catch Jet's jaw. He backed up, and audibly coughed, covering his mouth. He brought his hand down, and Zuko saw he was smiling.
Jet moved first, again, clearly going for the face, but this time for a kick. Zuko had spent hours with his trainer, just watching fights. "Often times, you can gauge your opponent's talent, strengths and weaknesses, just by watching him. But you have to know what to watch." Feet were key, arms were secondary, but their chest was vital too. If possible, catch how fast they were breathing. Labored breaths meant a tired opponent, and so a wise fighter could save his strength. Most people, who weren't benders, favored either their feet or their fists. A surprising number favored feet, because legs are generally stronger than arms, but if you're showy, you prefer arms. Zuko had trained to be a master of both, but Jet was clearly showy.
Zuko blocked again, catching Jet's arm by bending his at the elbow. Jet had clearly predicted this, and went for a sweeping kick at his legs. Zuko jumped, and dodged the kick but lost his balance slightly enough for Jet to reach for a punch with his other arm. He caught Zuko square in the jaw, and the prince recoiled. What Jet lacked in precision, he made up for in brute strength. His jaw was numb upon impact but was now starting to hurt.
They squared off and stared at each other. Jet's breathing was staggered slightly, like he'd just came up from swimming under water for too long, and the air was sweeter than usual.
Zuko moved first this time, aiming for the stomach, not necessarily a clean move, but a quick way to end it. He positioned his arm as though he was going for the face, and Jet dodged that, but missed the elbow hitting him between the ribs. He choked a little, the sound familiar but unsettling to Zuko, and in the moment between it happening, and Jet knowing what had happened, Zuko was able to reach up, and hit Jet's throat with his open palm.
He bit his tongue; Zuko could hear the wet cough that came afterwards. Jet staggered back, and Zuko half expected him to say, "alright that's enough." He didn't want to hit him in the mouth, and get his teeth.
"That's what I'm talking about Li!" Jet cried, excitedly. Zuko could see the blood in-between the spaces of his teeth.
"I don't want to fight you anymore!" Zuko admitted.
"But we're just getting started!" Jet said, running right back to him, aiming to punch his face in a proud display again. Zuko caught his fist in his own. Just like an untrained fighter, Jet attempted, again, and Zuko caught his fist, again. Jet pushed into the fists, trying to push him to the ground, but Zuko held his ground, albeit with some force. They stared at each other, and Zuko blushed for a reason he couldn't explain. Jet laughed.
In the middle of their stand off, he laughed like he was hearing a familiar joke.
Zuko hit his forehead with his own, and watched Jet's eyes cross as he watched what happened.
When Jet stumbled back, Zuko took the opportunity to charge at him. A choice he'd never have made in the academy, but no one was grading him here. He pushed Jet down with a bent forearm and as Jet fell, a hand went back behind his head. Jet's body fell with a thud but his head landed rather gently on Zuko's hand.
"Why'd you do that?" Jet almost screamed at him as much as he could with his breathing still off from the hit to his ribs.
"I don't want to fight you anymore."
"Are you saying I won?" Jet smirked, the blood dripping slowly out of the corner of his mouth.
"I'm not the one bleeding on the floor."
Jet exhaled and looked defeated, and with that Zuko moved his hand from behind Jet's head to his shoulder, almost about to lift himself up. But Jet put his hand behind Zuko's back and pushed him back down. His nose hit the ground beside Jet's ear and he swore, the word making Jet shiver involuntarily. They both momentarily froze, feeling too close and heated for it just to be a fight.
Zuko felt that strange sensation in his stomach rise higher into his throat, to tighten it and make him unable to say anything else, and lower as well. Much lower.
Jet took advantage of this and flipped him over.
Zuko couldn't think of anything to say but, "stop."
"Is that a forfeit?" Jet asked, dripping a bit of slobbery blood on Zuko's chin.
Zuko said nothing, but exhaled angrily, and noticed the smoke on his breath before he could think to stop it.
As often had happened in their fight, there was a tense pause, where Zuko held his breath, hoping Jet didn't notice.
Jet cocked his head, and asked, still with red staining his teeth, "Are you a fire bender, Li?"