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"Hmmm...."
"It's good fish, old man! Take it!"
"Now now, no time to be hasty." Iroh rubbed his beard thoughtfully. "You say three copper pieces for this fish?"
"Yes! Three copper pieces!" The woman snapped. "Good deal! Good price! Good Fish!"
"Hmm..." Iroh was still very thoughtful. "I am not entirely convinced..."
"Bah! You miss your chance!" She snapped, withdrawing the fish. "Get out of my stall space!"
"Very well." Iroh shrugged. Three copper pieces for that fish? It was two days old at least... He turned away from the stall and the grumbling woman, making his way along the crowded street slowly. Truth be told, he was savouring this somewhat pleasant walk down the streets of Ba Sing Se. Never before had the old man seen so many people crammed into such a vast network of streets, lanes, and alleys. It was mind-boggling. And to think I was foolish and arrogant enough to believe that this city could be invaded. Ba Sing Se will never fall, not to my brother, not to Azula...
"Hn?" He paused in the little square which he had wandered into with surprise. The fountain in the middle of the square teeming with shouting and splashing children, also contained a very solitary, very familiar figure with long brown hair and a pretty green dress. Jin sat alone, still wiping at her eyes, looking despondently down at her lap.
What has my nephew done? Iroh sighed, and slowly made his way towards the young girl.
"You look very depressed, young Jin." The elderly man noted, watching as Jin jumped at the sound of his voice, eyes widening.
"Oh... Yes, I suppose that I am..." Jin said softly, eyes lowered. "It's just Lee..."
"Ah, he us being his typical self, no?" Iroh said in a wry voice. "Don't listen to what he says."
"But I c-can't help it." She sniffed, wiping at her nose. "I'm only trying to be nice and understanding... But he just pushes me away. He's always so miserable, and I just want to know why."
"My nephew, he is a complicated young boy." Iroh said delicately, Jin's hands tensing. There was that word again. Complicated. "He has seen and done some very nasty things, you must realise."
"I understand that much." Jin murmured. "He even tried to tell me that he was in the circus... But he couldn't juggle to save himself."
"Yes, the circus story isn't true." Iroh nodded. There was no sense in lying, not when she saw right through it. "But what really happened..." He looked on the ground. "Was hard. For the both of us."
"I'm sorry." Jin said. "And I understand that you and Lee need your privacy on this, I really do. But when you see him tonight, can you tell him that a handful of angry words and a few harsh insults aren't going to get rid of me that easily?"
"Oh, I think I can tell him." Iroh nodded. "Jin, your presence is giving him cause for mental conflict, that I cannot ignore, but he's also been, at times, much happier as of late. And I'm pretty sure I know what put that smile on his face." He gave the girl a sidelong glance and a smile.
"Thanks, Mr. Mushi." She beamed, and stood up. "It's getting late, I'm sorry, but I have to go."
"As do I." Iroh groaned as he stood up. "These groceries aren't going to buy themselves now." He nodded. "You make sure you get home safe Jin."
"Thank you." She gave a bow, and left, melting effortlessly into the crowd.
"You know, you should be nicer to that girl." Iroh announced as he closed the front door behind himself, arms loaded with wrapped groceries. "She's very sweet."
"... Whatever." Iroh's shoulders slumped. Zuko was in the middle of the small living space, seated in the tin washtub. He'd wrapped his arms around his legs, resting his chin on his knees.
"She's only trying to be understanding." Iroh set the groceries down on the wooden eating table, unwrapping them from layers of slightly crinkled leaves and paper. "Don't be angry at her for it."
"I'm not angry at her." Zuko murmured, staring down at his toes through the water. He leaned forward a little, breathing through slightly pursed lips, adding a fresh jet of heat to the tub. The water steamed further in response, the clouds of vapour swaying in the air. "I'm just..." He raked a hand through is damp hair, the sound of Iroh's stacking filling the silence for a few moments. "I don't know. I'm confused."
"I understand that much." Iroh said gravelly. "But whatever you are feeling, you shouldn't take it out on her."
"I know." Zuko gritted his teeth. "I just... I can't help myself..." He swallowed. "I... I feel like I'm trapped between two people. I don't know who I should be, Lee or Zuko. And... Whenever Jin calls me Lee, I just feel so horrible. I'm lying to her. She likes me, so much, and I'm lying to her, every moment of every day. The boy she's falling in love with... Doesn't exist."
"Ah." Iroh closed the small wooden cupboard quietly, a frown on his face. "I have said several times, my nephew, that perhaps the best thing is to make a new life here and forget about the Fire Nation."
"That's easy for you to say, Uncle." Zuko muttered. "I want to think like that... After everything that's happened... I know it's for the best. But I can't! I can't stop thinking about everything I've lost and I can't take it!" Iroh sighed sadly as the tub erupted in a violent cloud of steam.
"I know things are hard right now." Iroh looked down at the carrot he was slicing. "But we are comfortable here. It is a humbled existence, but it is honest. We are making our own way without stealing or begging, and there is a small pride in that."
"Small pride for you." Zuko muttered, standing up and wrapping a towel around his waist. "This place is still a dump, and we're still low-class refugees'."
"This may be true." Iroh admitted. "But you must look at the positives."
"Oh yeah?" The teenager marched towards Iroh. "Enlighten me, Uncle. What are these positives?"
"Well, Jin for one." Iron swept the cut carrot into the small cooking pot. Zuko froze. "If you remained in the Fire Nation, you would have been in an arranged marriage by now."
"... Really?" Zuko winced. Iroh nodded. "Were you?" He inquired, realising just how little he really knew of Iroh's deceased wife.
"Our engagement was announced on my sixteenth birthday." Iroh said somewhat sadly, slicing the knife through the cabbage. "She was the daughter of one of my fathers' most trusted generals. I'd met her about two or three times before the engagement was proclaimed. I had no say in it the whole thing at all, of course."
"Did you love her?" Zuko asked tentatively, combing his dripping bangs with his fingers, one hand clutching at his towel.
"I tried." Iroh said simply. "But I was young, and she younger. We knew what was expected of us, and that was what strained the pair of us so badly. But even as she grew up, she... We didn't understand each other." Iroh explained. "She was so full of Fire Nation pride, and nothing else was in her head, nothing at all. She was... Like a much, much less intelligent version of Azula."
"Oh." Zuko stared as the cabbage continued to be sliced.
"I tried to connect with her." Iroh sighed. "But she saw me as the Crown Prince of the Fire Nation, not as Iroh. She saw our marriage as a duty to produce an heir to the throne, to keep the fire of the country alive, and she was so proud at being chosen, to do so, nothing more."
"I'm sorry." Zuko sounded genuine. Iroh had never spoken of his wife before. "Didn't she die giving birth?"
"To Lu Ten, yes." Iroh nodded. "I was twenty-nine, she was twenty-eight. My father was angry that it had taken so long to produce an heir, but relieved it was a son, not a daughter. Twelve years later, he had married Ozai off to your mother just after he turned seventeen. And nine months after the wedding, you came along."
"I didn't realise my parents were so young." Zuko said softly. "There wouldn't have been any hurry at all... Why didn't they wait?"
"Ursa..." Zuko tensed at the name, and Iroh gave him a sidelong glance. Should I tell him? "...Explained to me later that Ozai was very anxious to father children as soon as he could. I didn't realise, but even then, he must have been working away at some sort of plan..."
"Sounds like my father." Zuko muttered. "But what are you trying to say?"
"I'm trying to say, my nephew." He put the pot of rice on to cook, before starting on the onion. "That one thing you have been given is the choice of whom you will love. Unlike your father and I, you're not being forced into a marriage for political, or for blood purity reasons."
"I-I'm not going to get married!" Zuko spluttered. "I'm way too young to even think about that!"
"I just explained that your family has for generations been betrothed at sixteen or younger." Iroh noted patiently. "I'm not saying you must get married now. You are far too young to know what you want."
"I don't think I'll ever know what I want." He muttered, looking away. "But looking at everything that's happened... I'm wondering just how much honour there is in being the Prince of a nation that's tearing the world apart."
"Go and get dressed, my nephew." Iroh said softly, and when Zuko turned away, starting to cross the room, a smile broke across his face. I know you will find your way, soon. And I am doing my best to guide you, but there is only so much I can do, and so many decisions you must make for yourself, young Zuko.
But I will be by your side to help you. Iroh's mind drifted back to that of his son, almost eight years ago, on that horrible, horrible day, sunset, when the young Lu Ten, had been cornered, by two very experienced Earth Kingdom warriors, and Iroh was not able to reach him in time.
I am not going to repeat my past mistakes. A single tear slid down the old mans' cheek.
A week passed.
Jin continued to sit at her table in the corner of the shop every day, drinking a cup of jasmine tea with her eyes lowered and hands folded in her lap in between tentative sips. And every time, it was Iroh that was forced to collect the empty cup and receive the bill, Zuko quickly making himself scarce. It was obvious that he was avoiding her, and what reasons, it was far from clear, but the young Earth Kingdom girl was persistent. She was patient, too, and instead of storming into the back room, shouting at him like Zuko expected her to do, she merely entered the shop meekly, keeping her eyes lowered as she slunk to her regular table, waiting for Iroh, or perhaps the tea shop owner himself, to come to her.
It was driving Zuko insane, and he knew it. Whenever he saw her arrive, he would stare, through the small internal window that looked into the front of the store, watching as she would gaze down at her steaming tea, with that heart-breaking, despondent look on her face. It hurt him, too, to know that he was the reason for her pain, his angry rejection had reduced her to this anguished shell of her formal self, slipping through her daily tasks with the same troubled expression, the same downcast eyes.
I have to do something. Zuko realised as he watched her sip her tea on the seventh day since their explosive encounter. I can't keep doing this to her, to myself...
I like her. I do. He sighed deeply. And... When I think about... How we were together, and if that happened again... It makes me happy. Happier than I've been in... a while...
Is there anything wrong with... Being happy?
There is if it's based on lies. Zuko lowered his eyes, hands clenched. And that was the issue. No matter how hard he tried, there would always be that barrier between them, the hidden truths and the uncomfortable lies. Zuko would never be able to truthfully tell the girl just why he was so deep in mental anguish, and Jin would always be concerned and upset that Zuko was so fraught with trouble, and yet would never explain why.
If I could only tell her, that my whole life has been shattered by this war, that all I'm doing is living up to this unrealistic expectation of my father, that I've never felt anything but anger and rejection from him, that I've hurt so many people and now it's all coming back to haunt me...
... Maybe I can. Zuko froze, his gaze fixed on the girl. Perhaps... He gasped as Jin suddenly looked up, and quickly lowered his stare to the dirty cups in front of him, which he started to clean. Aware of her eyes on him, he kept his stare focused on the dishes, his face starting to blush. Please, stop looking at me...
When he dared lift his gaze again, Jin was gone.
"Please speak to her."
Zuko sighed as his uncle immediately nagged him, the moment he walked in the door after a long walk.
"Why." He muttered, kicking off his shoes and slouching at the table, where a bowl of rice and fried vegetables waited for him next to a steaming cup of tea. "What good will it do."
"More than you realise, my young nephew." Iroh said sagely. "I saw you looking at her today. You sadden her, and she confuses you."
"I know." He muttered, digging his chopsticks into the food. "But I told her to butt out. I told her that I couldn't take it anymore. What more do I need to say to her?"
"Do you really think like that?" Iroh blew on his half-finished tea, giving it just a little extra heat. "Do you never want to speak to her again?"
"... I don't know." Zuko mumbled around a mouthful of food. "I don't know anything right now. I want to be able to tell the truth to her. I want to look her in the eye and explain what it is that hurts me so bad, but I can't do that. Because the truth is so damn awful. She'd hate me. Hate me and turn me into the Dai Li."
"I'm not saying you need to tell her all about Prince Zuko." Iroh said patiently. "I understand this is hard for you nephew. But she's a very sweet and genuine person. I doubt you would find someone else so understanding."
"Firstly, I'm not interested in finding someone else. I was never interested in finding anyone to begin with." Zuko muttered. "Secondly, 'understanding', as you put it, can only go so far. I don't think she'll exactly understand if I told her my father was the man who invaded her country."
"You are so stubborn, Zuko." Iroh shook his head. "Just like your father."
"No." Zuko growled, slamming his fist on the table. "I am not like him. I'm not a monster."
"I never once suggested you were." Iroh was alarmed. "I was not aware you thought of him so harshly."
"After what he did, it's hard not to." Zuko admitted, his tone markedly softer. "He can't even show care and compassion for his own son. Everything's been taken over by hate and greed."
"It is horrible." Iroh agreed sadly. "And I am pleased to know that you understand that. So tell me this Zuko, if he is such a monster, and you hold him in such low regard, then why are you so passionate about regaining your honour and being deemed a success in his eyes?"
"... Because." Zuko rested his forehead in a flattened palm. "Maybe if I restored my honour, he would accept me. Maybe he would finally love me."
"... Do you think he loves Azula?" Iroh drained the last of his tea. "The one who has never done a thing wrong, the firebending prodigy, the picture of ultimate perfection?"
"He's proud of her." Zuko muttered. "He's pleased with her. She makes him happy. He can call her his child without any shame."
"But does he love her?" Iroh pressed further, watching as Zuko set down his chopsticks. Clearly, this subject troubled him, but he needed Zuko to get it out. He needed him to realize.
"... I don't think he's capable of loving or caring for anybody." Both hands covered Zuko's face, elbows propping his upper half on the table. He felt sick with the horrible realisation, something that had been niggling him in the back of his mind for a very long time, something he blocked out, never wanted to face.
"... I love you, my nephew." Zuko tensed at the warm hand on his shoulder. "And I am so proud of you. I know you are struggling, but you are so strong, so full of resolve. And you're a very skilled firebender." He added. "But more than that, you understand. You understand what is right and what is wrong. You understand the true meaning of honour, and the importance of love and trust. And that is something my brother and Azula will never learn." He wrapped one arm around Zuko's shoulders, pressing his forehead to the untidy thatch of dark hair in a short embrace, before straightening, and collecting the used plates and cups, stacking the china carefully before making his way to the small tub which was already filled with water.
"... Thank you, Uncle." The shaky voice came almost a minute later. His hands pausing in the slowly steaming water, Iroh turned his head, to look over at Zuko, who had lifted his head from his hands, rubbing at his good eye with one hand.
"Any time, my nephew." Iroh said softly, his heart swelling.
All right. I can do this. Zuko breathed in deeply, the point of the tiny brushed doused in ink. He decided that, rather than face her in the shop, he would write her a short note. Unfortunately, that was much harder than he could handle.
'Good afternoon, Jin.' No, that's too stiff and formal. 'Hi Jin!' When in the name of Agni did I ever say hi? 'Greetings?' Nope. 'Salutations?' Now I'm just being ridiculous. Why does this have to be so stupid! Zuko growled aloud, bringing a fist down onto the tabletop with a thud. All right. I need to stop pussyfooting around this. I need to be simple and straightforward.
"Jin
We need to talk. Meet me at the Firelight Fountain tonight at sundown."
Should I put 'yours' Lee? Why? Do I belong to her? 'Yours sincerely?' 'Yours truly?' Ugh, forget it!
"Lee" He signed quickly, and then left the ink to dry, standing up and arching his back in a long stretch. Truth be told, he'd been sitting at the table for over an hour agonizing over what to say. Agonizing over a one-lined note, how pathetic was he? Zuko sighed, and walked over to the window, which was still un-shuttered. He folded his arm on the frame and rested his head against the pale limbs, gazing silently across the courtyard. He could still see several shapes silhouetted against thin paper shutters, despite the late hour. Many people worked long into the night keeping their homes clean, after spending a long, laborious day toiling for a few copper coins. It was sad to think about.
How can people spend their entire lives like this? He sighed. Day in, day out, with no respite, not even a glimmer of hope for anything better?
It's better than being homeless. He lowered his eyes to his hands. Better than being on the run from the Fire Nation. It still stung. His own people thought of him as a traitor. All I've ever done is for their good. How can father blame me for the North Pole failure? Zhao was the one who commanded everything.
Sometimes, it seems like he's just been out to get rid of me. Zuko swallowed. When Mother left... Did he even put up a fight against my grandfather? Was he willing to sacrifice me, without hesitation? The thought brought a sour taste to his mouth. Ever since I've been a child, he dug at me. All the damn time. I was a useless firebender. I was terrible at my studies. I was weak. How could someone born from such a high pedigree be such a failure? He never said that to my face, but Azula heard him mention it to Iroh. Of course she would tell me.
I don't think I'm a failure. I know I'm not a failure. I may not be the son my Father wanted... But that doesn't mean I'm not strong. It doesn't mean I couldn't lead my country.
It's hopeless. It's all hopeless. Maybe, maybe if Azula wasn't the kind of person she was, so perfect, set against me the failure, the he would have accepted me. But... For scarring me in the damn face, for speaking out of turn, for banishing me on a mission he knew I could never fulfil... He doesn't even want me back. Even if I captured the Avatar, how long before I would make some other mistake? How long before he found some other reason to get rid of me? He shivered, and it was not entirely due to the night air.
"Aaaaah, are you still up, Prince Zuko?" Iroh's sleepy voice entered the room, the elderly man yawning and stretching.
"Yeah." His voice cracked, and he swallowed. "I can't sleep."
"Why ever not?" Iroh cast a glance to the note, the ink now dry.
"First, it was Jin." Zuko admitted, his voice still shaking. "Now I can't stop thinking about Father."
"... Do not allow yourself to dwell on things like that." Iroh said softly. "For one, it's not healthy. For another, sitting in the dark, stewing things over will not do any good. You cannot change things such as this."
"If I captured the Avatar and sent him to Father, would we be able to return to the Fire Nation?" Zuko asked suddenly, still looking out of the apartment window.
"Well, I would assume so." Iroh frowned. "But my Prince, I thought we were going to try-"
"Yeah yeah, that whole new life stuff, I know." Zuko said dismissively. "No, what I mean is... Would Father actually accept me, or would he be waiting for some other reason to get rid of me?"
"... What brought this on, Zuko?" Iroh was stricken. "Why ever would your father do that?"
"You said yourself he was incapable of love." Zuko muttered. "And besides, he didn't exactly fight very hard to spare my life against your father. I know I'm being stupid. It just feels like..." He trailed off shaking his head. "I don't even know anymore."
"He is a complicated man." Iroh noted, Zuko's hands tensing. "But Zuko, please, you must put these thoughts out of your mind for the time being. Dwelling on your father when you are powerless will only cause pain."
"I know." Zuko straightened his back. "I just... I can't help myself. You think I like feeling like this?"
"Get some sleep." Iroh took a hold of Zuko's shoulders, gently pushing the teenager to his small bedroom.
"I don't think I can." Zuko argued. "You're right, I am powerless. And I don't wanna be anymore! I can't take just rotting away in this dump of a city!" He wrenched himself free of Iroh. "Look, I know you're happy here, Uncle. And I'm trying. I'm trying really hard, but I can't put up with this anymore! I know I should be lucky and counting my blessings and all that but it sure as hell doesn't feel like that!" Iroh watched silently as Zuko stomped into his bedroom, slamming the screen door shut behind him.
He sank onto the futon, crouched on the balls of his feet, digging his palms into his eyes. Zuko's breathing was harsh and erratic, and he knew, he just knew that if he didn't get a hold of himself soon, he was going to break down into humiliating sobs. I need to calm down. He reached for his thin pillow on an impulse, hugging it tightly against his chest and biting down hard on a corner. Not for comfort, as it looked like, but so he had something spend his strength on, and if the worst did happen, at least his breakdown would be silent. The teenagers' fingers dug into the fabric, and he tensed his arms as tight as he could, until his wiry arms were burning with the strain. He wasn't angry. He wasn't hurt. He was simply terrified.
Ever since he was a small child, ever since he had grasped the concept of time and growing up and life, he had his ambition, his goal, first of being a high-ranking General beside his cousin, A close advisor and trusted comrade, much like his father was to Iroh. After Azulon's death, and with the realisation that he would one day be Fire Lord, Zuko's sense of duty and ambition had increased. He tried to do everything he could to be that perfect Prince, to be his father's first-born, the future Fire Lord, with his own dreams of the day he would finally take a seat on the magnificent throne. Everything he did, every decision he made, was influenced by his so-called destiny. And now, that he finally realised how little his father cared for him, how impossible it was to ever regain his honour and his birthright...
... There was nothing. His future was a gaping black pit. He was literally, living one day to the next. Even when he was banished, there was the hope of capturing the Avatar, although once he and his uncle became 'traitors' of the Fire Nation, the struggle to survive took up most of his time and energy. But he made a couple of decent attempts. Now, when he had nothing to do, save a physically light job, he felt so completely devoid of a purpose.
I'm not nothing. Zuko shakily lay down on his futon, staring up at the ceiling with the pillow still in his arms. I've lost everything, my home, my chance at restoring my honour, almost all of my family... He swallowed. But there has to be something worth fighting for. There has to be something to stay here for. Not just Uncle and his stupid tea shop, even though I couldn't bear to leave him again. I could go looking for the Avatar once more. Try and pick up on some rumours about where he is, where he is heading. There's refugee's here in the city that have travelled from all over the Earth Kingdom.
And then what? Try to find him? Hunt him down, alone? I could take him alone, but he's not alone. He's surrounded by his stupid friends and whether I like it or not, the two girls are very powerful benders. Katara's face floated past in the eye of Zuko's mind. She would defend Aang to the death. He winced. It was more painful to call him Aang. It reminded Zuko that he was a just a child, who was only trying to fix his past mistakes. Would defend the Avatar to the death. He corrected himself. And I don't want to kill her. I've done my best in the past to prevent any loss of life.
Unless I found a band of people powerful enough to take on the Avatar, I couldn't face him. Zuko screwed up his face. And who in Ba Sing Se would hate the Avatar so much that they would fight for his destruction? Maybe if I was in the Fire Nation... But they hate me there, if I tried to go, I would be arrested in a second and sent to face my father... A cold feeling settled in Zuko's stomach. He wouldn't... execute me, would he? Zuko rolled over onto his side, curling into himself a little. What I've done isn't wrong. Well, not wrong enough to warrant an execution...
But he would see it as a chance to get rid of me. Zuko felt as though he had swallowed a lump if ice, and was feeling positively sick.
So if it's a choice. Find the Avatar, while away the rest of my life in this prison, or... die.
Yeah... Sorry it's so angsty.
The next couple of chapters are probably going to -gasp- follow the canon of the story. I know, amazing, huh!
Well, kind of. I'm not going to recycle dialogue and crap like that, I'm sure you don't need me to haha.
REVIEW PLEASE! The more reviews I get, the faster I update. And that is a fact.