Hey y'all.
I know this isn't as long as what you're used to, but I intended to be participating in NaNoWriMo, and while I'll try to work on this a reasonable amount, in case it doesn't, I'll cut the unfinished scene at the end, and post it as is. If people still care. I think I've left things too late now. Woops.
"Why did we stop at a pub again?"
"You're holding the reason why." Jin tapped the cup Zuko held in his hand, smiling. "No one was able to get any black-market booze, at least not cheaper than bar-drinking. We'll only stay for a few quick ones, and then head over to Ai's place. Things won't heat up for a while anyway."
"She only goes for the drama." Jiro muttered in Zuko's ear. "Sometimes to watch, usually to participate."
"Hey." Jin frowned. "I don't do that anymore. Hurry up and finish, I'll get the next round, then it's Lee's turn. You have money, right Lee?"
"A bit." Zuko responded carefully. Was it a bad idea to bring everything? He didn't intend to spend all of his hard-earned cash; it was for more of an emergency situation. "I guess I can get one each, but no more."
"A round each will be plenty, if we have enough." Lien reassured the boy, taking another sip of her maotai. "I might not even have the last one. I can't drink like you two."
"Well, no one can drink like Jin." Jiro commented, watching his sister drain her cup, upending it to let the last few drops splash on her tongue. "See?"
"I'm gonna get the next lot." Jin stood up, the chair scraping on the floor. "Same for all?" Three dark heads nodded in her direction. "Great." She hummed to herself as she headed across the room, heading to the bar.
"Uh, do you ever worry about how much she drinks?" As soon as she was out of earshot, Zuko leaned forward to put the question to Jiro. "I mean, these past few nights, she's been having a lot."
"Nah." Jiro shrugged, taking a gulp. He wasn't worried, he knew Jin could easily hold her own. "I wouldn't stress. She's toned down a fair bit. She'll just drink enough to get a buzz, then stop. Well, can't afford much more." He laughed, setting down his near-finished cup. "You two might want to speed up, Jin's gonna be back in a tick with more." Zuko obediently lifted the cup to his lips, and began to drink. When he first had a sip of maotai, Zuko spit his mouthful back into his cup, thinking it was horrible. At Jin's advice, he learned to drink by tilting his head back, letting the liquid slide down his throat without touching his tongue. It helped, but still didn't prevent the shudder that ran down his back when he swallowed. He didn't know how Jin could drink the stuff like water. He thought it was absolutely foul. Zuko screwed his eyes up tightly as he lowered his head, trying to force down the shudder.
"Is there a line at the bar?" Lien leaned sideways to catch a look. "This place isn't too full, shouldn't be a long wait yet."
"Dunno." Jiro finished his drink, setting down the empty vessel with a shrug. He craned his neck to get a better look. "Oh, I see her. Shit." He started. "She's talking to Riku."
"Who?" Zuko turned in his chair to get a better look. "Who is that?"
"An ex-boyfriend." Lien bit her lip. "It finished badly... Not surprised Jin didn't say anything to you about it. He was violent. She said he didn't touch her, but she hit herself with something. I wonder what he wa..." She trailed off as Zuko stood up rather abruptly, marching straight across the bar to the pair. Riku had his head bent towards her a heavy scowl on his face. Jin kept her head erect and chin up in a defiant pride, but her lower lip was trembling almost imperceptibly, and she wrung her hands nervously, blinking rapidly.
"You're a little bitch." He'd grabbed her by the shoulder as she was about to order, pulling her away and turning her to meet him. As soon as Jin realised who it was, something hardened inside her, and she tried to keep her chin as steady as iron, refusing to quake before her latest romantic mistake. "Who do you think you are, leading me on all night and taking my money before running off? Huh?"
"Go away." Jin muttered, pulling her should away, refusing to look at him. "I mean it Riku, I don't want to talk to you. You're a sleaze and an asshole, and you know it."
"Better than a boozehound." He spat, leaning towards her face. "All you're ever interested in is where you're next drink is coming from, and who you'll have to sleep with to get it. You're cheap Jin, and you know it, a cheap slu-"
"Is there a problem here?" Riku was yanked away from the girl by a firm hand. He started, turning on his heel to see Zuko standing very close. Jin's shoulders visibly sagged in relief, but she couldn't shake the deep sense of unease within her. WhatifZukoheardthat?
"None of your business, mate." Riku shouldered him away, grabbing Jin by the wrist. Zuko was unable to quell the violent trembling in his hands. It was a blessing that he couldn't summon his own fire – he wanted to burn the little shits face off.
"Lookmate." Zuko grabbed at Riku's shoulder again, pulling him away from the girl. "That's my girlfriend you're manhandling, so back off."
"This?" Riku's eyes widened, lips curling in a smile. "You're dating this? Trust me, you're wasting your time with this cheap slut; she'll sleep with anyone for a drin-"
Zuko promptly punched him in the nose.
Jin gasped, heaving forward as the teen crumpled to the ground, blood gushing from his broken nose, staining his pale green robes and streaming across his face. He wasn't knocked out cold – Zuko could hear him groaning – but he definitely wasn't getting up any time soon. Zuko stepped over him carefully, taking Jin by the elbow. As he turned to leave however, he promptly received a punch in the stomach, reeling back from the force of the blow. Jin screamed, instinctively backing away and trying to hide from a barstool. She recognized the back head and shoulders of the figure – it was one of Riku's cousins, a meathead flunky who spent most of his time beating up people who threatened Riku or spoke dirt on him – and there were a lot. Jin watched silently as Zuko righted himself before the thug could land another blow, sending him crashing to the floor. Zuko sucked in a deep breath, trying to look as though he wasn't in pain. Wait. Jin stilled. Thereareusuallytwo-
"Look out!" Jin screamed, but she wasn't fast enough. The wooden barstool splintered as it crashed across Zuko's back, the teen falling stunned to his hands and knees. The young man standing above him tossed the broken furniture to one side, as though it was matchwood. Zuko was still dazed as he was hauled to his feet by the scruff of his neck, and shoved roughly against the bar, but he was able to realise in his foggy brain, that he was being lined up for a broken nose or eyesocket. He brought his knee sharply into the man's groin, giving him a swift uppercut to the jaw. He went down like a sack of bricks, groaning on the floor. The first of the attackers was back on his feet, trying to see through a nasty cut on his forehead. Zuko didn't look good – he moved slowly, still reeling from the two very hard knocks he had suffered at close range, and Riku's cousin managed to sweep Zuko's leg, delivering a swift kick in the side while he was down.
"Stopit!" Jin broke through the wide berth of figures watching the attack in shocked silence, hands shaking. It had all only taken a few seconds – Jiro and Lien weren't even aware that anything was happening, and the bartender was yet to get involved – but Zuko was struggling to stand, and she was terrified. Not that he was going to seriously get hurt – she knew him better than that – but that he might lose his head and think there was only one way he could knock them both down.
When she looked back on it later on in the night, Jin realised it was, for her at least, the worst thing she could have done. She should have really left alone. Instead, she fixed both of them to the floor, dragging them down and knocking them out. Jin didn't really comprehend what she'd done at first – it was all a blurry whirl of light and colour – but she blinked and her vision cleared, staring wide-eyed at the two prone figures and the broken, uneven floor. Zuko stood with his hands on his knees, breathing heavily. She locked eyes for just a moment with Riku, who leaned against the bar with a blood-soaked bit of cloth over his nose. He looked at her with an odd mixture of fear and shock. Hewasafraidofher. It sent an odd rush down her spine. She straightened her back, raising her chin a little in defiance. She had never revealed herself before him, never trusted himself to keep such a secret, even when she herself was on the brink of harm, but now he knew. He knew what he'd narrowly avoided; he knew what she could do to him.
"All right, that's it!" The gaze broke as Jin was grabbed by the elbow. "Both of you, outta here!"
"Hey, get your hands off her." Zuko pushed the bartended away, taking Jin's hand. "We're going." Jin trembled as Zuko carefully guided her through the milling crowd. They pressed close together behind them, trying to get a better look at the battered bodies in the floor. She kept her head down, not looking at anyone. She could already picture the shocked looks on their faces; Jin was a popular girl, and knew at least a dozen people in the bar that night. They would all go and tell their friends, and they would tell their friends and the gossip would continue until everyone would gleefully claim that Jin wasn't just a dirt-cheap slut, but a bender too...
She was glad for the cool night air. Jin breathed in deeply, sucking the fresh atmosphere into her lungs as Zuko released his hold on her, standing back a little bit with his arms crossed. He waited until she straightened her neck and opened her eyes before cocking his head to one side, raising his eyebrow.
"What was that?" He sounded almost accusing in the night. Jin wrung her hands again, like she did when Riku was threatening her. Zuko didn't recognise the familiar nervous gesture. "You said no one knew."
"They didn't." Her voice wobbled, threatening to break. "I know it was a mistake but you looked really bad and I was really scared that if they kept going, well..." Jin's voice steadily grew higher and higher in pitch. She broke off, and swallowed, drawing in a long, calming breath before leaning in. "You might... bend." Zuko stilled, mouth falling lax in horror as realisation sank in. "A-and, that would be really bad. It doesn't matter about me, it's normal for people like us, but you... They'd lynch you in the streets and it's my fault you got involved. I-I just wanted it to stop getting out of hand." She loosened her hands, and they fell to her sides. "I just wanted it to stop." Zuko's eyes were closed, the teen slowly shaking his head. This wasn'thappening. He felt sick with guilt. "Are you all right?" Her hand was on the side of his face, the good side. "We should go and get you looked at."
"I'm fine." He ducked his head away, pulse thudding in his throat. He didn't know what to do. Whywasn'tIhonestwithherfromthestart? Why did he listen to his stupid, Agni-damned pride? Whatiswrongwithme? He couldn't tell her now. He couldn't handle her cold reproach. She'd know that her secret was tossed aside for nothing; he couldn't do that to her. Or himself. "Nothing's broken. I just need some rest." He wasn't badly hurt – he'd probably sport a few bruises tomorrow, but nothing on his face and arms.
"Do you want to go home?" Jin leaned her face against his collarbone, feeling his pulse on her temples. "I don't mind. I don't think I can face anyone tonight. The gossip will spread like a forest fire and everyone will ask if it's true..." She buried his face in his neck. "I don't know how they're going to take it." Zuko wound his arms around her shoulders, resting his chin on her head.
"It'll be fine." He spoke so confidently. "I understand why you kept it a secret, but you don't have to worry about the Dai Li anymore."
"I just hope we're not targeted when the city's invaded." Zuko lifted his head a little. "I've been thinking a little bit about that. They... They don't do things to the benders, do they? You said things would remain the same."
"I did." Zuko's voice was quiet as he remembered the ruins of the offshore prison he'd visited in the south of the Earth Kingdom. He couldn't remember the name or exact place, only that it held every earth bender they could lay their hands on, and was liberated by a much younger Katara. He felt very, very cold. "Even if they did something, nothing is going to happen to you." He tried to keep his voice calm. Iwon'tletit.Ifanyonecomesnearher,I'lldestroythem.Bendingorno.He was going to stay on his toes, keep Jin around him, when It happened.
She wasn't going to pay for his iniquities.
"Time is passing."
They were two little blots, one dark red, one orange and yellow, on an endless sea of green. Just an everlasting meadow, and a perfectly clear sky, with the sun fixed high in its arc across the atmosphere.
"Is it?" Aang looked up at the figure walking alongside him. It felt like they had been walking side-by-side, fixed in conversation, forever. And still, the landscape never changed. The same sky, the same grass, the same sun. He wondered if perhaps it was a small planet, and he had walked all the way around, back to the starting point, or if it was some sort of trick, and the world had frozen around them. They seemed suspended in a moment of time, in an artificial world with no life. No weeds, no birds, no flowers, no insects. Aang even combed through the grass on his hands and knees, looking for them.
"Not here." Roku cast his arm vaguely around the scenery. "In the physical world. Reality, not the dream inside your head."
"How long has it been?" Aang paused in his walking. "It feels like years. Like we've been talking for years. I'm not saying you're boring," He added quickly, "Just that time, if it even exists here, isn't moving."
"Within your mind, there is no concept of time. Dreams which appear to last hours take only a few seconds. There is no timepiece to measure the hours. The sun is not moving." Roku had stopped a few paces ahead of his reincarnation. "I have as much knowledge of the outer world as you."
"Which is nothing." Aang's head was in his hands. "All I remember is Azula and lightning and things going dark. And waking up here. Whenever that was. And then you finally showing up."
"I, like all past Avatars, reside within you, deep in your subconscious. I took the opportunity to finally communicate with you for an extended period of time." Roku walked towards Aang, resting his hand on his shoulder. "But Aang, we have indulged in light chatter long enough. When you wake, I am sure the world will be greatly changed. You will feel as though you have no allies in the world, and you will be unsure of whom to trust. You cannot do this alone. You explained before, that due to your Nomadic teachings, which I have the deepest respect for, you are greatly conflicted with the taking of a life."
"I know." Aang sounded miserable. "I know what you're talking about. I have to kill Fire Lord Ozai, but I can't do it. When I realised what I was about to do to Azula, I had such an intense feeling of horror – I can't end any life, even them."
"But you will not allow your friends to fight alongside you."
"Never!" Aang's head snapped up. "This isn't their fight, not like it is mine. I know Sokka says that this is everyone's war, but it's not their responsibility to face Ozai. I can't let them near him. I would rather die in the fight than risk their lives."
"Your loyalty is not misguided, Aang." Roku stated simply. "I am not asking you to put them in such a place. No, for history to move forwards, it must, in a sense, repeat itself. You may feel as though no one will stand beside you and face Ozai, but it is not true. My great-grandson walks upon the earth, and already burns with a resolve to end the reign of the Fire Lord."
"You have descendents?" Aang blinked, trying to process this information. "Who is he? Where can I find him?"
"You have met him already." Roku's lip was twisted in a wry smile. "A long time ag-"
"He's waking up! Toph, go get Katara now!"
"I'm on it!"
"Aang! Aang, can you hear me? It's Sokka. Aang, keep your eyes open and look at me."
His vision was swimming. Aang was in a numb, suspended state of flux. Mentally, he scrabbled desperately for the dream, his contact with Roku, and tried to focus his sight on the shadowy figure looming over his face. He caught a pair of blue eyes and groaned. The numbness of sleep was lifting; the pain in his chest settling in.
"Aang." Was Sokka crying? "Aang, please, stay awake." Aang turned his head away from the light, groaning. Why was it so damn bright? "Dammit, where's Katara? Aang? Stay with me buddy, okay?" Aang blinked. His chest was on fire, the pain shocking him into a sense of awareness. He tried to sit up, but Sokka pushed gently on his shoulders, coaxing him to lie down. "Don't move, Katara will be here in a moment and she'll – Spirits, there you are."
"Aang." Katara clambered on the large bed, embracing the boy as tightly as she dared. "I thought we'd lost you."
"We all thought that." Toph tried to appear nonchalant in the doorway, but her hands and voice were shaking. "Good to have you back."
"You've been out for about a week." Katara sniffed, wiping at her nose. Aang tried to focus on her, but it was hard. How close to death was he? She was struggling to control herself, and Sokka's attempt to comfortingly embrace her seemed ineffectual. "Y-your heart almost stopped a few times and your lung wasn't working, but you..."
"Katara," Sokka leaned in to murmur in her ear. "Is there something you can do? I think he's in a lot of pain."
"I'll try. Can you try and prop him up a bit better?" Aang groaned as another pillow eased under his head, the blankets at his shoulders folded down to his waist. Katara's face reappeared in view, giving him a wobbly smile. She slowly unwound the bandages around his chest, hands trembling. "Aang, just try and relax, and close your eyes." He didn't need to see his own mutilation.
"A-All right." Aang trusted her entirely. He tried to relax, letting his eyes drift close and shoulders lax, keeping his breathing shallow. Each time he sucked air into his lungs, he was met with another burning flood of pain down his torso. "How..." He winced. "How bad is it?"
"Um, not so bad?" Toph rolled her eyes at Katara's obvious lie. "It's just going to take time to heal. Does this feel better?" Aang sighed at the cool sensation of water pressing on his wound. The pain dulled, but didn't entirely subside. But it was soothing; it helped him take deeper breaths.
"Yes." He murmured. Sokka was holding his hand. "Much." He tried again to relax, tried to keep his mind clear. He burned with so many questions. Where were they? What had happened to Azula? Had they won, or were they cast out as fugitives? How did Katara even escape? "I need to ask..."
"If it's about what happened in Ba Sing Se," Sokka replied before Aang could voice his question "It can wait until you're better. You're not hearing anything like this."
"It's bad then." Katara looked up, meeting eyes with her brother.
"Aang, you can't know that, we just don't want-"
"If it was good news, you would tell me now." Aang strained his weak voice, interrupting the girl. "You don't want me to worry, which means we lost." Aang slumped against the pillows. "Roku was right..."
"Roku?" Katara's brow was knitted in a frown. "You spoke to Roku?" Anything that distracted him from the subject of Ba Sing Se. Aang nodded weakly. "What did he say?"
"Lots of stuff." Aang mumbled. He felt so tired. "He told me there was one person who... could defeat Ozai alongside me." He yawned, the effort sending a fresh twinge of pain down his spine.
"Who's that, Aang?" Katara kept her hands steady, concentrating. She tried to create a gentle tidal pull, an ebb and flow that would lull Aang into some much-needed sleep. It looked like it was working.
"His great-grandson." Aang murmured. Sokka cocked his head to one side. "Says we've met before... Don't know his name..."
"Get some sleep Aang." Katara said soothingly, gently moving her fingers. "You have a long road ahead of you. We can talk about Roku and Ba Sing Se tomorrow."
"Mmkay." Aang's head lolled to one side, half-asleep. Katara waited until he had drifted off before lifting his hands away, returning the water to the skin at her waist.
"Great-grandson, huh?" Sokka stared at the wall in thought. He already had an image in his mind of a bending master, a seasoned warrior who would teach Aang the secrets of fire and help them face Ozai. Somebody with an Avatar as an ancestor would have to be a powerful man.
"Let's just concentrate on getting Aang better." Katara was replacing the bandages on his chest. "One thing at a time."
"Yeah, all right." Soka mused. Toph was completely silent.
"Looks good." Xi Quan peered over Zuko's shoulder, watching him place the type within the adjustable wooden frame. "Nothing backwards. I don't even really need to proof your work now."
"Thanks." Zuko murmured, trying to concentrate on finding the tiles. It was a careful business, making sure every tile was perfect, and he still had to be quick. Xi Quan promised he would pick up the art (if that's what it was called) in a little time. Zuko pressed a slender wedge of lead alongside the row of tiling, trying to centre it. This was for a series of small posters advertising a political rally to take place a week from today. People were taking advantage of their recent freedom, and printers throughout the city were inundated with orders of posters, flyers, and pamphlets. Zuko wondered if it would last – how long would the citizens of Ba Sing Se actually engage in their political freedoms? He was sure most of them would eventually succumb to boredom and apathy, a listless inability to actually deconstruct the social order without compromising their own comforts. Revolution didn't carry the popular opinion as much as historians made out.
Agni, when did he become such a cynical asshole?
Zuko sighed heavily as Xi Quan left the back room to answer the bell at the front entrance, gently wiggling open a stuck drawer, leaning down to look closely at the tiles. He wished he had the freshness and naivety of youth, at least politically. He wished he could be full of radical ideas about toppling old figureheads and establishing a new world order. He wished he was an idealist.
It was hard to be, when he knew the true nature of those in power. Between Long Feng, his father, Azulon and Sozin, it seemed that he couldn't really think of any truly virtuous and good leaders. Zuko felt as though it was completely irrevocable. Even if he managed to take control of the Fire Nation, he wasn't sure he could remain uncorrupted from absolute power. Not when he came from a long line of tyrannical megalomaniacs. He wanted things to change, of course he did, but Zuko just wasn't sure if he was the right person.
If not him, then who?
"Lee!" Zuko jerked his head up from the frame, startled. "Lee, it's for you. It's your girlfriend. You've got time for lunch. Go get some air, but I want you back within an hour." Zuko nodded wordlessly, and headed into the front room, where he saw Jin idly leafing through a pamphlet.
"Hi!" She looked up, and smiled. Jin had changed out of her drab work clothes into her best dress, and carefully tied her hair back. "Ma told me you didn't bring any lunch, so I thought I would come take you out. My treat."
"Oh Jin, you don't have to do that." Zuko felt self-conscious in front of Xi Quan, who tried to look busy amongst a stack of papers. "I was just going to get a messenger-boy to order something in from down the street."
"Oh, come on." She grabbed his wrist. "I'm trying to be nice." Jin guided Zuko out of the quiet store, and into the busy street. "What's wrong Lee?" She looked over him as they began to walk. "Something's up."
"I'm working on this flyer for a new political group." Zuko tried to keep his voice low, his hand clasped around Jin's. "Apparently, there's a lot of orders coming in advertising these new groups and meetings." Jin cocked her head to one side. "It just feels futile. Like, no matter what happens, nothing will ever change. You have to be cruel to force others to submit to your rule. There will always be tyrants in power, and any revolution is just an exchange of one faceless figurehead for another, just a shuffle of control at the top. Nothing ever changes for the people."
"Oh." Jin looked thoughtful. They had had a similar conversation before, she remembered, and Zuko's outlook was similarly bleak. "Well... Maybe we just haven't got the right person at the top."
"And I'm the right person?" He looked over at her. Jin swing their bound hands back and forth a little, thinking.
"I think you could be." Jin said seriously. "I think that having these grand ideas about everything that could be changed without a realistic belief in what you can actually do, isn't much better than a tyrant. You're not naive like that."
"But there is such a thing as being toocynical." Zuko pointed out. "And... I just look back at everything my ancestors have done, and I feel like I'm trapped, like history is just going to continue repeating itself. I'm stuck in a dynasty, Jin."
"You're not stuck in anything." Jin said. "Lee, you're not like them. You're different. You actually know what's right and wrong, and better, you're prepared to fight for it. You are fighting for it."
"Unsuccessfully." Zuko blew at his bangs. Jin made a sympathetic noise in her throat.
"I don't think the world has ever been through anything quite like this, though." Jin pointed out. "I mean... An entire race has been wiped out, and another is on the brink of extinction. This isn't history repeating itself. You won't find this in any book. And Lee." She stopped in the street. "You can't sit there thinking you can't do anything. You don't know what will happen, and just because your father and grandfather were evil, that doesn't mean you'll turn out the same. People can break away from their families, and turn out totally different." She kissed him. "No more talking about this, okay?"
"All right." Zuko muttered, looking down at the ground. That didn't mean he wouldn't be thinking about it. Psychologically, he was always taking one stop forward and two steps back. But it was hard to be strong in the face of such ravaging insecurities.
"Good." Jin began to talk. "Also, I told a teeny lie. We're not going straight to lunch. I have to stop off on the way at this seamstress's house. Ma got a message while I was work, and she needs me to try it on again, it seems her daughter took out all the pins while she wasn't watching. It's not far, and I won't be long." Zuko mumbled in assent, walking alongside the girl in relative silence. Jin knew that he was brooding, but she let it go. Sometimes, she'd learned, it was just best to let him be.
Besides, she was about to show him something that would change everything. Hopefully. Spirits, what if she was completely mad and the woman had no relation to him? What was she going on here, aside from similar appearance? It was worth a shot. At the worst, it wasn't her, and Zuko would be a little bored whilst waiting for her to try on the dress. It was an easy decision to make.
Jin's heart thudded as she knocked on the door of the narrow townhouse, and she tried to keep her face neutral. But her palms were sweating. She hoped Zuko couldn't feel her clammy hand clasped in his.
"Afternoon." The woman smiled in the doorway, nodding a greeting. "Good Jin, you got my message." Her eyes passed over to Zuko, and she frowned. "Who is this?"
No. This can't be happening.
"Oh, Ta Min, this is my boyfriend, Lee. We're having lunch somewhere nearby and I thought I would pop in and get this sorted. You don't mind do you?"
Zuko fought a burning ember in his throat, eyes watering. He couldn't hear the gentle banter between the two women – all he heard was an odd ringing in his ears, the thudding rush of his racing heart.
Itwashismother.
There was no mistake. He recognised in an instant the face of the woman talking so easily to Jin on the threshold. Zuko had dreamed of her so often. He wanted to say that she hadn't aged a day, but her hair was longer, there were creases around her eyes that weren't there before, and the gentle downward turn of her lips sagged a little heavier. He longed so much to throw himself in her arms like a child, to have hair stroking his hair, telling him it was fine, and everything would be okay. His chest felt tight. He couldn't breathe.
"Of course not." She was all smiles. Jin couldn't see any recognition on her face. If she knew him, she was bloody good at hiding it. "Come in, my sewing room is upstairs." She turned and walked. Jin made to follow her, but the paused at the tug on her hand. She gasped aloud as she noticed Zuko standing very still. She couldn't say he looked any paler than usual (How could one be lighter than bone-white?), and his mouth was lax. Jin thought there was no reaction, until she noticed the flood of tears pouring down his cheeks.
"Oh Lee." She breathed, taking his other hand. Iknewit. "Come on." Jin pulled him over the threshold, Zuko's movements stiff and mechanical in response. Zuko followed Jin obediently, his eyes fixed on his mothers' retreating form. Howisthishappening? What was she even doing here? He didn't understand it – she was gone. He screwed his eyes closed for a moment, trying to stem the flow of tears. It didn't work.
"I'm really sorry about Suyin, I left your dress on the couch for just a moment, and when I came back, there were pins all over the place." The sewing room was light and airy, with one corner screened off and a naked dressmakers' dummy against one wall. Jin's unpinned dress was sprawled across the table, the gold embroidery glistening in the early afternoon sun.
"It's fine." Jin untied the front of her dress. "I just hope she didn't hurt herself." Zuko wiped surreptitiously at his eyes with the sleeve of his clothing, trying very hard to control himself. "Lee, can you hold this for me?" She pressed her outer dress into Zuko's hands. He nodded dumbly, accepting the fabric as she slid into the half-finished robe. Zuko kept his eyes fixed on Ursa as the clothing was gradually pulled tight, winding the dress over his hands to mask the violent trembling.
When he looked back, it was a miracle that he held his tongue. It took every ounce of his will to linger in the doorway, keeping silent. He was overcome with the juvenile desire to tearfully ask her what she was doing here, where she had been.
But she didn't recognise him.
Zuko seriously considered if he was mistaken. Perhaps it was just some woman with pale skin and dark hair, and he wanted so much to believe it was her, that he subconsciously willed himself to see his mothers' face. How could she not remember him? Was it the ageing, the scar? Zuko thought the connection between mother and child was unbreakable – if he recognised her in a heartbeat, then why not she him?
Because she hadn't changed. Somewhere in the muddled swamp of his brain, Zuko realised that while eight years had barely touched her, it had left him changed – scarred – beyond recognition. He wasn't the same child who fed turtleducks at the pond, pressed to his mother's side. Her voice was the same, but his had dropped considerably. Sure, he still had a hint of a lisp, but that was hardly unique. Ursa was blissfully unaware that it was her own child standing awkwardly in the doorway of the sunny little room. Ithadtobeher.
Whydidn'theruntoher? Why was Zuko so rooted to the floor? Why didn't he proclaim who he was? Why couldn't he call her 'mother'? It wasn't doubt in his mind – the more he watched her, the more he recognised the slight mannerisms belonging only to her. The gentle tune she hummed was familiar, the way she brushed her hair out of her eyes, the almost imperceptible turn of her head as she studied a crease in the fabric – he'd seen it all before. Every few moments, Jin would turn to look at him, giving him some sort of sympathetic smile. Not of concern, not wondering, whyishereactinglikethis? But more of a consolatory observation, he'stakingthingsterribly.
Finally, Jin was asking for her dress back. Zuko handed over the cloth automatically, staring dead-eyed at her hands. He'd dried up, shrivelled in on himself. He felt exhausted and withered.
"It will only take a few more days." Ursa's voice broke Zuko's gaze. Jin tied the front of her dress, smiling. "I'm sorry you had to come back."
"It's no trouble." Jin took Zuko's hand, starting to lead him out of the room. "We'll show ourselves out, we know the way. Thank you so much Ta Min, I hope it's not too much trouble for you."
"Not at all." Zuko's stomach lurched at her smile. "It's nice to have something to keep my hands busy, especially now the children sleep regular hours." Children?Whatchildren?Zuko felt sick. "You two take care."
"We will." Jin bowed a goodbye, turning to the door. Zuko still hadn't said a word. She tugged on his hand gently, trying to coax him out of the room, but he was still rooted to the ground. Jin stilled, wondering what was going through Zuko's mind. His breathing quickened into shallow gasps. He wasn't going to leave her. He couldn't. Shehadtoknowwhohewas.His voice broke as he tried to speak, knees on the point of collapse.
"Mum."
Jin had a few ideas of what might happen if they recognised each other. He might get angry with her for leaving, she could claim that he had it wrong, in a final effort to conceal herself, or berate him for what could be seen as his failures. She'd hoped it wouldn't go wrong – that they would hug each other and cry and just be happy with one another. Ursa was staring at Zuko with a mixture of shock and horror on her face, hands covering her mouth. She was staring at his scar. Zuko's heart thudded in his chest like nothing else. He was sure others could hear it.
"Zuko..?" She didn't want to believe it. Zuko's sweaty grip tightened on Jin's hand, the girl wincing from crushed fingers. "It... How... Oh baby." Ursa almost sank to her knees as she took Zuko in her arms, utterly overwhelmed. Zuko felt the warm trickle of water behind his good ear, down his neck. Jin stepped out of the sewing room quietly, closing the door behind her. Of course she was happy for Zuko. It was obvious he'd suffered, and she'd do anything she could to help him, unconditionally. Yet she felt a small seed or resentment swelling within her chest. It sickened her. But she still had a burning question in her mind, which hung there, unanswered.
Why did she leave him?
"Princess Azula."
Her eyes snapped open. She forced herself to resume her straight, regal posture, lifting her chin. The Dai Li agent sank to his knees before her, eyes fixed on the floor. Sitting cross-legged on the floor at her right, Ty Lee slowly rose to her feet.
"Yes?" Azula demanded imperiously, making sure to keep a snarl on her lips and in her voice.
"We have received a message from the Dai Li at the outer wall. The Fire Nation forces have entered the hinterlands of Ba Sing Se. They shall arrive here in the mid-afternoon."
"Excellent. As soon as they are in sight, bring the Inner Wall down." Azula watched the man leave, sagging her shoulders as soon as she knew the pair were alone.
"You shouldn't sit like that." Ty Lee perched on the arm of the golden throne. "Not if it hurts. Are you sure there's nothing they can do Azula? You look in a lot of pain."
"I will be fine." Azula snarled, rising to her feet. "The bruising will go down in a few days, and everything will be as it was." Ty Lee kept quiet. "This is no time to be idle. Even if they are greatly outnumbered, the citizens of Ba Sing Se may attempt an uprising. We must remain on our toes." She stepped down from the dais, forcing down a cry of pain. "Find Mai, will you? I want this to go perfectly."
"Yes, Azula." Did she really think Ty Lee to be a fool? Did she think that the girl couldn't see the pain she was in? There was no shame in admitting a wound. Even if it was by a peasant. Even for a Princess.
But there was no helping Azula. And Ty Lee had tried. She knew better than anyone the young Princess's insecurities, but any advice she offered came out as inadequate, disingenuous, to the both of them. She didn't know if there was anything she could say. She could never tell Azula that her father was insane and Azula should stop jumping through hoops for him. Not to her face.
Ty Lee knew that it was fear that kept Azula quiet. Fear that her father would hear about how she was knocked down and injured by a peasant, of all people. He would say she was weak. He would shame and humiliate her, like he did Zuko. Azula walked on a pane of glass that was struggling to support her. Ty Lee could see that she was struggling to maintain the image of perfection in the face of what had happened. But her own position was tenuous. She wasn't an advisor, a source of wisdom. Azula listened to her, on the rare occasion she said something, because that's what it was, rare. She would never provoke the young Princess to anger. And telling Azula that she was falling into a hole would make her very, very angry.
She was overreacting. Everything was fine. Azula wasn't badly injured, the Avatar was truly defeated, Ba Sing Se would be secure, and soon they would all be home again.
Ty Lee wouldn't have convinced a child.
I know there's going to be a bunch of people saying "wtf why would Ursa be in Ba Sing Se?" but think about it. It got absolutely FULL of refugees fleeing from all over the country, and she sure wouldn't stay in her home nation. It's the perfect place for someone to ignore their past and try begin a new life (as Zuko and Iroh attempted to do). If you had to hide, a city filled with millions of people is more 'hidden' than the most isolated mountain hut. And a reunion between the pair may not necessarily have positive ramifications. I said 'may'.