A/N: So a while ago I had an idea for a story, and for some reason, as I started writing it, I thought it would be maybe four or five chapters long. but then I started to actually plot the plot and, long story short, I am halfway through chapter twelve and about halfway through the story as well. this is an idea that caught my imagination as I was writing and I originally intended for this to be a future chapter, but now I think I will be taking this chapter in a bit of a different direction when I finally get to it in my WIP. But I was sad to see it go so I thought I would post it here as a one-shot. Enjoy.

Dragon Therapy

The day was hot, as most days were in that part of the world; the days that weren't hot were usually described as boiling... or sweltering... or blistering...

Which was what Zuko's feet would be doing later on if he didn't get a hold of himself.

"It certainly is most regrettable that your father couldn't take you on this trip himself." Iroh lamented as he walked alongside his nephew down the street.

Zuko scoffed, "yeah, couldn't," he muttered darkly, thinking that a more accurate word choice would be wouldn't. Iroh sighed but couldn't dispute the accuracy of Zuko's sentiment and otherwise kept his silence as they continued onward.

For a few minutes at least.

"You never know, Zuko," Iroh said as the pair approached the small kiosk at the end of the street, "The dragons may bestow a gift on you today."

Zuko merely grunted in reply.

"They bestow gifts on only the most worthy, you know." Iroh continued to try and lift Zuko's spirits.

"Or those in most need," countered Iroh's most stubbornly pessimistic nephew.

"Incorrect," declared Iroh in a cheery tone that was entirely incongruous with his statement, "On those most in need, the masters bestow wisdom. And not just any wisdom, it is the wisdom one needs to change their path to a better one... Unfortunately, hearing such wisdom is often painful and many of those most in need are not the type to heed such advice. But those that do, have managed to find greater happiness and peace because of it."

The declaration lifted some of the sourness that had surrounded Zuko since they had arrived on the island and he began to feel like maybe the whole trip wouldn't be so pointless after all.

"So what gift did you get?" Zuko asked, slowing his pace out of curiosity and only some lingering dread.

Dragons, while awesome as an abstract concept, were a lot more terrifying as physical creatures. The prospect of meeting one, coming nose to nose with what was essentially a giant, flying, fire-breathing lizard with a mastery of firebending that was innate to the species, centuries of accumulated intelligence, and the power (and possibly even the divine right) to judge any firenational, in particular firebenders, and declare them unworthy...

It was a lot of pressure for a guy who was regularly deemed unworthy by pretty much anyone in his vicinity at any given time. Present company excluded.

"I didn't," Iroh replied so softly that Zuko almost missed it amidst his ruminations.

"You didn't? But you're the most powerful bender ever. You were the most successful Mixed Combative Bending fighter on record! They called you the Dragon of the West because you were undefeated, and because of your fire-breathing technique!" Zuko protested incredulously. "And you always said that you're the man you are today because of the dragons!"

"That is true," Iroh agreed, "because, without the wisdom the dragons gave me, I would have been too self-absorbed to recognise the true fortunes in my life and work to keep them. Wisdom can be a boon of equal measure if you allow it to guide you."

They came to a halt only a couple of paces before the kiosk and Iroh turned to Zuko. "Even if you don't receive a gift or wisdom, the dragons may see fit to simply bestow their blessing on you, and that is something to be proud of too."

"But what if I get nothing?" Zuko asked in a small voice.

"Then you will still be my nephew and I will still love you all the same. As will Lu Ten - and I've promised him we'll call once you're back. He's very eager to hear all about it."

"What will you be doing while I'm ...busy?" Zuko asked after a long pause.

"Sunbathing of course!" Iroh replied eagerly, pulling out a pair of sunglasses seemingly miraculously from somewhere about his person, and waving them about a bit before putting them on. "Do not worry yourself about me, I'm sure I can find a lovely young lady somewhere along this beach who will be willing to keep an old man company for a few hours."

Zuko rolled his eyes and closed the small distance left between them and the kiosk. He eyed the whole thing warily, the front was resplendent with yellows, golds, and reds (well, it would have been resplendent or had probably been resplendent once; but the paint was old and probably quite cheap and it was flaking off planks of wood which were withered and splitting after such long exposure to sun and the salty spray of the nearby sea.) The employee within wore a bright orange t-shirt with a sunburst logo printed on it and large sunglasses that covered a significant portion of her face.

Zuko could tell by her posture, the set of her arms, and her lack of reaction as they approached, that she was staring at her phone under the counter.

The girl behind the counter whipped her head up at the sound of Iroh clearing his throat and seemed to compensate for her lapse in professionalism by being extra perky as she greeted them. "Hi there! Welcome to the Dragon's Gate! The great masters Ran and Shaw welcome all firenationals seeking their blessing."

Iroh inclined his head, "Good afternoon. My nephew is here for his first pilgrimage."

"Amazing," she replied, as she turned to Zuko, her forced perkiness morphing into genuine enthusiasm, "Although not observed as strictly as it used to be, the pilgrimage to see the great masters is a right of passage dating back thousands of years to the first Sun Warrior civilization. Are you ready to carry on the tradition?"

"Uh... yeah," replied Zuko.

"Great, so it's five yen to gain entry and an extra two yen if you want to use a locker."

"Locker?"

"The island where the great masters live is considered sacred ground. We don't allow shoes past this point."

"Oh," Zuko said as he blinked.

The girl behind the counter seemed to interpret Zuko's lack of reaction as negative and hurried to elaborate. "All the proceeds go towards maintaining the dragon's natural habitat here and on the other volcanic isles, and on breeding programmes as dragons are still considered an endangered species," she explained earnestly.

Zuko's mind immediately conjured images of starved hatchlings laying shivering in the broken shards of their eggs in pitifully bare nests, with not a mother to feed them in sight... and before he knew it, he was sliding two tenners across the counter and telling the girl to keep the change.

He ignored his uncle's raised eyebrows and subsequent chuckle as the older man presumably remembered that animals (particularly of the cute and/or vulnerable variety) were Zuko's weakness.

The girl was delighted to receive his donation and tucked the money away into a till with a smile. She then placed a form and a pen on the counter and asked him to fill in his name, date of birth and confirm his nationality. When he had finished he handed the items back to her and after a quick scan of the form, she looked up and asked, "So are you a firebender?"

Zuko lifted a finger and let a small flame dance on the tip for a couple of seconds before letting it go out and shoving his hands deep into his pockets and wondering why he couldn't have just said yes, like a normal person. But the girl didn't seem to mind or find it that weird as she just gave a small smile and stamped the form with an orange flame symbol and gestured for Zuko to follow her. He waved Iroh goodbye before slinking through the archway into the locker room.

He was directed to remove his shoes and socks and store them in a locker (he slipped the key into the pocket of his jeans) and then to wash his feet, hands, and face in the fountain at the end of the room, which he did carefully, rolling up the ends of his jeans to keep them dry and to stop them trailing in the sand while he was making his journey.

Ten minutes later Zuko was standing outside the back of the kiosk staring up at the most ominous set of steps Zuko had ever seen. They were cut into the side of the volcano and led to a small temple built into the side of the mountain, not too far from the top. He was to make his way into the temple and collect a piece of the eternal flame and then present it to the masters. In their own cave. At the top of the other taller volcano at the far end of the adjoining island.

Apparently, the whole thing should only take just under two hours.

Zuko marvelled at the possibility of judging someone's entire worth in less than two hours.

He hesitated and then got angry with himself for hesitating and began to march out onto the path to the temple. However, in his haste, he forgot how the black rock that made up nearly the entirety of the volcanic isles heated up in the sun and pulled his foot back with a wince.

With a deep breath and a focus on channelling the heat away from his feet, he set out again. He quickly fell into the rhythm of climbing the stairs while not letting his feet burn. When he reached the temple, the eternal fire was sitting just inside burning brightly and more golden than yellow or orange. It was beautiful.

Zuko had never really considered the aesthetic qualities of fire before. Of course, he knew fire could be used to make art (he had always thought glass blowing, in particular, was pretty cool) and he had often been mesmerised by flames even when he wasn't trying to meditate. But he had never looked into the heart of a fire and formed the thought: that's beautiful, before. He had only ever been groomed to look for and wield the destructiveness of fire, and he had privately revelled in the usefulness of his bending, but still, he had to wonder how he had never thought fire beautiful before.

With a reverence Zuko had rarely had occasion to feel before, he put his hand into the fire. The buttery flames caressed his hand softly and they felt... Happy. But a peaceful kind of happiness, it felt content.

Zuko felt a small giggle bubble up his throat. He found he didn't even want to hide it, and he let it skip off his tongue freely. There was something about the eternal fire and the strange sentience that it seemed to possess that called directly to somewhere deep inside his own inner flame and drew out his most profound emotions. He wanted to keep the fire happy. Would the flames be okay with Zuko scooping out some of them to present to the dragons?

The question was felt rather than thought, but Zuko sensed a joyful little zing travel up his arm and into his chest that had the flavour of excitement and anticipation. Zuko cupped his hand and the fire spilled into it eagerly. His smile widened at the connection.

Zuko held the fire as close to his chest as he could without singeing the material of his t-shirt as he stepped back from the hearth and turned to exit the temple. The flame felt like it was overflowing with life in his palm and he cradled it as carefully as he would have held one of the hatchlings that his imagination had conjured earlier.

He braced himself as stepped back out onto the sun-baked rock and descended the volcano.

The simultaneous demands of holding the eternal fire and channelling the heat of the rocks away from his feet while he walked had Zuko slipping into a fairly meditative state. The kiosk worker had told him earlier that the purpose of the whole process was to uncloud the mind ready for judgement. Zuko supposed the lack of clouds gave the dragons a clearer view.

Zuko was barely aware of time or distance as he focussed on his firebending. Even the transition from rock to sand as he began sinking into the heat and miniscule black granules hot as embers enveloped his feet with each step, barely registered with Zuko. Thoughts drifted through his mind on mental currents that for once resembled the lazy, peaceful flow of dormant magma rather than the turbulent violence of erupting lava which was the norm.

He hoped his uncle wouldn't get too bored without him and wouldn't think the whole trip was a big waste of time. He hoped his cousin would stop worrying about him and focus on his uni course. He even thought randomly of his friends (or whatever it was that Zuko had since he was pretty sure none of them would call him a friend.) He hoped Suki managed to overcome her difficulties with her studio rent. He even thought about Ty Lee and her perpetual longing for romance. And he thought about Katara and felt a pang of shame that was smoothly (and inexplicably) extinguished and replaced with a more simple regret.

He thought of his dad, and the tangled web of feelings that Zuko felt regarding him, recently complicated by Katara and then his co-workers, drifted to the surface. The mass seemed to be caught in some eddy and was gently unwound by hot, oozing currents, flooding Zuko with each feeling as it was pulled from the knot. Fear, love, resentment, and shame all flooded through him without bringing him out of his meditation or slowing his progress.

It appeared the eternal fire and the dragons were working in tandem to assess him. Zuko almost whimpered as memories of his dad were finally brought to the torrid molten surface, painful memories being pulled gently but with all the inevitability of the sunset, to the forefront of his mind for examination. They were scrutinised and discarded on the whole rather swiftly, however, some, the more painful ones, were lingered over.

When the jumbled mess of his sister floated in, Zuko felt the urge to mentally recoil. He flinched back violently from the first memory, unwilling to put himself through Azula's particularly cutting form of sibling torture once again. Yet he felt a little tug from the fire in his palms and the feeling behind it was one of encouragement.

He slowed to a halt, wondering what the hell he thought he was doing, imposing himself on two great masters of firebending, two ancient dragons, and asking that they judge his soul. He felt the tug again, more insistent this time, hooking just behind his ribcage and urging him forward.

Okay, Zuko thought towards the fire a little apprehensively and surrendered. Who was he to defy dragons? Thinking of Azula was akin to what Zuko imagined it would feel like if someone had somehow emptied a hornet's nest inside his head.

By the time he finally stood before the cave of the dragons, Zuko felt raw and wrung out. He knelt and presented the fire, knowing that all he could do now was submit to whatever judgement the dragons thought to bestow.

A massive snout loomed out of the shadows and the warm breath fanned over Zuko before the dragon sniffed and seemed to inhale the tribute.

The snout retreated into the blackness, and for a moment, as relief mingled with disappointment, Zuko thought that was it. That the great masters thought he wasn't worth anything more than a sniff, as his heart began to sink. Even as he began telling himself that he had known that would happen all along and there was no point in getting upset over it, he just had to suck it up and go back. But then the dragon was leaping over his head, gleaming scales flashing past at an alarming speed as first a red dragon and then a blue one danced in the air around the summit of the volcano.

The sight was wonderfully majestic and, once Zuko was capable of feeling anything other than overwhelming amazement, he would be immensely glad that he had agreed to come here with his uncle.

Eventually, the dragons settled and a wave of multicoloured fire swept forward to embrace him and Zuko instinctively threw up his hands in front of his face. After a moment, he realized there was no burning and he relaxed and gazed around as the kaleidoscopic flames whirled around him in breathtaking splendour, the inferno whipped up a breeze that tugged at his hair and clothes. The heat, far from scorching, was instead a playful warmth enveloping him and Zuko felt like he could read the pure, unaltered truth - the real meaning of firebending - in the display.

"Fire is life," he whispered in breathless wonderment.

He looked into the dragons' kind eyes and felt a swell of gratitude threaten to overwhelm him, and he knew the dragons understood without any outward signal. Yet that still didn't feel like enough, so he bowed formally, hoping to get across the intensity of how he felt.

The red dragon, Ran, he suddenly knew without any idea of how he acquired such knowledge, nudged his shoulder gently, guiding him upright. Ran's snout didn't retreat as Zuko raised his head and instead stayed invitingly within arms reach. He lifted his hand hesitantly, all the ways he could be breaking protocol or being rudely presumptuous running through his mind. Ran moved his snout encouragingly a little closer to Zuko's hand.

The moment didn't feel entirely real for Zuko as he let his hand rest lightly on the dragon's scales. Pure, unmitigated joy unfurled in his chest as the dragon leaned into his touch and Zuko explored the feeling of dragon scales under his fingers.

Warm breath blew slowly past him and as the dragon stayed relaxed Zuko lifted his other hand to the dragon as well. Eventually, and feeling a lot braver than he was used to, Zuko stretched his arms as wide as he could and burrowed his face into the dragon as he tried his best to embrace the creature so much bigger than him.

The dragons allowed this until Zuko pulled back. Ran slowly straightened his posture, and after a minute more of staring down at him, both masters retreated, leaving Zuko to feel the last of the dragon's influence leave his mind and he was once again victim to his own emotions. He turned around in a daze and made his way mechanically back to the kiosk.

When he got back to what felt like the gate between him and the real world, the kiosk worker was waiting for him, bouncing up and down in her excitement and she had let through his uncle who stood next to her inside the doorway, beaming so wide he looked to be in danger of splitting.

"Oh my spirits that was amazing!" The girl trilled, "I've only ever seen the dragons dance like that a handful of times in my entire life! And then the multicoloured fire!"

She continued to gush but Zuko found he hadn't the brain capacity to take on what she was saying.

Plus whatever she was saying was coming through rather muffled as Iroh had pulled him into a bone-crushing hug.

Zuko was still somewhat in a state of disbelief and shock when Iroh grabbed his shoulders and pulled back just far enough to eye him carefully.

"My dear," Iroh gently interrupted the effusive kiosk worker, "I think my nephew is still having trouble processing what's just happened. Would you be so kind as to fetch some water?"

"Of course!" she chirruped before bouncing off to fulfil Iroh's request.

While the girl was gone Iroh led Zuko carefully to the bench and sat them both down, it wasn't long before she came back.

"Thank you," Iroh practically whispered as he accepted the bottle of water that was offered, "may we sit quietly here for a while until my nephew feels better?"

"Um, sure. Take all the time you need," replied the girl, with an edge of concern in her voice and her brow as she left them alone.

After a few minutes, Iroh pressed the water bottle into Zuko's hands. "Drink, Zuko," he urged softly and brushed Zuko's hair away from his eyes, "it will help."

Zuko managed to take a sip and then he felt sorrow swell in his breast as he allowed himself to think what he had been afraid of for so long. Tears formed in his eyes and he unconsciously turned to Iroh and sobbed into his shoulder, Iroh's arms coming up to hold him securely.

"My father doesn't love me," the words hurt to say aloud, even muffled as they were by Iroh's clothes and Iroh tightened his hold. "I don't think he ever loved me. I don't know why. But nothing I do will ever be good enough for him." It was a revelation that Zuko had been sensing in a nebulous sort of way for a while now and therefore not exactly surprising, but there was a finality to fully admitting it that was surprisingly gut-wrenching.

"I'm sorry Zuko," Iroh rasped and brought a hand up to cradle the back of Zuko's head. He stroked Zuko's hair lightly a few times before adding, "I'm so, so sorry Zuko. I wish I could spare you this pain."

"It's okay uncle, my dad ...is not a good person," Zuko replied slowly like he was testing the idea out, but the words felt right in his mouth.

"Unfortunately, you are right."

"But, whether I want it or not... Whether he wants it or not, he's still my dad." Zuko lamented as he pulled back.

Iroh was glad to see the awareness back in Zuko's eyes but hated the misery he saw there. But there was also a maturity and an understanding that was beginning to blossom in Zuko that gave Iroh hope that his nephew would be able to work through the revelation quickly and would not suffer too much anguish over it.

They sank into silence again, this one more contemplative, and Zuko continued to sip the water.

"I hope you know," Iroh began eventually, "that although your father cannot find any love in his heart for you, I do love you very much, Zuko, as if you were my own."

"Thank you, uncle," Zuko replied, and although his smile was small, it was genuine. And a little while later Zuko extended a quiet, tentative, "I love you too."

Iroh allowed the silence to settle around them once more for a little while. "So..." Iroh began eventually, drawing the vowel out, "dragon fire?"

"Um... Yeah, I guess," Zuko replied and held out his palm. In the centre, a small fire burst to life, brilliant white but with flecks of gold swirling through.

"Beautiful," Iroh breathed.

Zuko concentrated and the flame morphed into a myriad of colours each one bursting into life and rippling through the heart fire, chasing each other merrily before winking out and being reborn into the next colour.

"This is a truly precious gift you have been given."

"I know."

"I have always known you have something special inside you."

Zuko rolled his eyes. "You know, you could just say I told you so, uncle."

Iroh chuckled, "I believe I have made my feelings clear."

Zuko snorted in response.

"Do you feel ready to leave here, or would you like a few more moments?"

"I'm ready. We should probably stop hogging this room anyway." Zuko replied and reached for his locker key.

Iroh led the way back onto the street once Zuko had his shoes back on and bowed to the kiosk girl as they went past with a heartfelt thank you. Zuko inclined his head and mumbled a bashful thanks, behind him and hurried out of the kiosk.

The street was fairly crowded with people just milling about and Zuko realised as he met their curious stares that the dragons' demonstration was pretty visible to the whole island and these people must have been waiting to see him.

Zuko felt his face settle into its familiar scowl and he resolutely turned his gaze to Iroh's back as he followed his uncle to their hotel.

Iroh's phone began ringing as soon as they had shut the door behind them.

"It's Lu Ten," Iroh said as he checked the screen, "do you feel up to telling him the happy news or would you like me to?"

"I don't really want to speak to anyone else today," Zuko said as he walked over and flopped onto his bed.

"That's understandable. Perhaps a nap would be best? I will speak to Lu Ten and make sure you're not disturbed until dinner. A man needs his rest." Iroh said gently edging towards the door that interconnected their rooms and then went through, making sure to close the door quietly behind him before he answered the phone.

As soon as the door shut, Zuko's eyes sprang open. He really was tired but...

He made his way over to the door Iroh had just used on silent feet, paranoia coursing through his veins, and slowly sank to the floor, tentatively leaning his back on the wall and hugging his knees to his chest.

Turning his good ear towards the small gap between the door and the frame, Zuko could make out Iroh's only slightly muffled words.

"...And Zuko are back in the hotel now. Sorry I didn't call earlier, today has been a bit overwhelming and I thought it best to get him somewhere quiet and take a nap, I've said I'll wake him up for dinner...

"No, no! It is the best possible outcome! Zuko has been given the gift of Dragon Fire! ...

"Yes really...

"I know. I knew the dragons would give him a gift, but Dragon Fire? The last time anyone received Dragon Fire was quite a few years ago...

"I remember hearing about it when I was a boy. There were two within a month of each other. Rather an uncommon occurrence…"

"Hmm, yes. You're right, I think they would want to report this. Maybe I should go talk to that girl at the kiosk about keeping Zuko anonymous...

"Well, can you imagine Zuko wanting to be all over the news? ...

"Ha ha ha! If he wants to come forward, he can. But for now, I will see that his identity is protected. It's better to be safe than sorry...

"Maybe we should extend our stay here a few more days, have a proper holiday while we're here? It would give Zuko some more time to relax and it's half term so he wouldn't be missing any school...

"Yes, I think he's ok. Just a bit drained. You remember how intense visiting the dragons is, the process of baring your soul can be overwhelming even on its own. I think Zuko just needs a bit of extra time to process...

"I think I will see if he feels up to calling you tomorrow. I know you want to congratulate him yourself but I'm not sure if he will be in the right headspace tonight, even after a nap. I think tomorrow would be best...

"Okay. Bye son, I love you."

The relief that Zuko felt when he realised that Iroh wasn't upset with him was almost drowned out by the phantasmagoria of emotions roiling inside of him. The guilt he felt that Iroh wanted to stay here longer, just for him, was slightly stronger; and above all was the exhaustion.

He waited as he heard Iroh's door close and then listened to his footsteps fade down the corridor before making his way back to his bed. Maybe a nap was a good idea.

He kicked off his shoes and crawled under the covers wondering if he would even be able to fall asleep with the way his mind was whirring.

Fin.