Honor Among Thieves

by fullmetalgrigori

Nimble body. Deadly aim. Sticky fingers. Quicksilver tongue. She's a thief with a heart of gold and a pathological liar with the very best of intentions. Put together? She's a most unlikely addition to the Avatar's traveling entourage.

19. You've Got Some Explaining To Do

A/N: I…wow. You have left me speechless. Well, not quite, but as close to it as I get. The response to last chapter was overwhelming, to me at least. I always believed there to be a stigma surrounding OC characters who are connected to Zuko in some way, but I suppose I was wrong about that. Your response was very positive! As a thank-you, I decided to post the next chapter early. You guys deserve some answers, and so I will give them to you.

A special shout-out to TametheGhosts, Daenerys86, and Luna de Rivera, whose reviews especially had me grinning like an idiot.

Disclaimer: I do not own A:TLA, just Mira and some original ideas.

---

Chapter Nineteen

You've Got Some Explaining to Do

---

"We're gonna get caught."

"No, we're not, you big scaredy-cat. Now shut up and follow me."

"…I still don't know about this."

"Aw, c'mon Zuko! You promised." Zamira pouted. "You can't back out now."

"What if we're caught?" Zuko asked seriously, stopping in his tracks. "What happens then? You haven't thought that far, have you?"

"No," Zamira admitted freely, not bothering to turn around as she continued down the darkened hall. "Cos we're not gonna get caught."

"You don't know that for sure," Zuko mumbled, but Zam could hear the soft thumping of his feet as he hurried to catch up with her.

"Nah. But that makes it fun." She grinned wildly and waggled her eyebrows.

"Girls are crazy," Zuko said under his breath, but a corner of his mouth was turned up in a little smile.

"Now watch and learn," Zamira whispered as they approached the door to the war room. She knelt down by the lock and pulled a leather-wrapped bundle from an inner pocket, untying the strings that held it together to reveal a selection of thin, metal lockpicks. The tip of her tongue poked out of her mouth as she carefully worked two of them free. After tucking the little kit away, she inserted the picks into the lock, eyes closed to better feel what was going on underneath. The metal shifted and clicked softly as she wiggled the picks the way she'd taught herself to years ago.

One minute ticked past, then two. Zuko fidgeted, leaning from one foot to another. "How long is this going to take?" he finally asked.

"A little less if you'd be quiet," Zam said absently, biting her lip as she concentrated.

"What if you can't pick it, huh?" Zuko prodded. "What're you gonna do then?"

"Stay until I do."

"Aw, c'mon," Zuko whined. "You don't have to prove anything to me, you know."

A solid thunk echoed in the dimly lit hallway, and Zamira gently turned the handle to push the door open. It swung into the empty war room silently, and Zam slipped inside, Zuko not far behind. "Not about proving something to you," she whispered. "Now…where d'you wanna start first? I say behind the throne. I've always wanted to know what's back there." She skipped across the room, not checking to see if Zuko was following her. "Now admit it, isn't this a little fun?"

Zam could hear the smile in Zuko's voice. "Maybe."

"Aren't you glad I dragged you along?"

"Not sure yet."

"We'll have you change your mind, then," she said cheerfully. She darted behind the raised dais that held the throne and crouched down. Zuko sat cross-legged next to her and gave her a puzzled look. She ignored it and asked, "Do you have your knife with you?"

Zuko nodded and pulled it from the leather sheath hanging from his belt. He handed it over silently, and Zam examined it in the low light. It really was a gorgeous blade; she felt a small stab of jealousy. No one would give her gifts like this. She dismissed the thought before she could spend too much time feeling sorry for herself. She had Zuko, her best friend, and that was more than enough.

The blade flashed silver in the dim light as she raised the blade with her left hand and quickly slashed the palm of her right. "What are you doing?!" Zuko cried in a hushed whisper. "Are you insane?!"

"Shush up a minute," Zam hissed, teeth clenched. "It's a blood oath. You in or not?"

Zuko looked a bit taken aback, but after a long, tense silence, nodded uncertainly. He took the knife from her hand slowly, raising his other. His lips were a straight, tight line as he drew the tip across his skin.

Zam met his gaze in a rare moment of complete seriousness. "We'll be blood brothers. I read about it in a story."

"But you're a girl," Zuko said, pointing out the obvious.

"I know that, stupid." Zam scowled. "We'll be blood siblings, then, okay? Cos Azula's awful and I don't have a brother."

Zuko gave her a small half-smile. "You'd be a whole lot better than she is."

"See?" Zam said. "That's what I was getting at. Now will you do it?"

Zuko nodded and extended his right hand. Zam wrapped her thumb around his and pressed their palms together. Blood mixed with blood as Zamira began her oath. "I, Zamira, swear to be Zuko's blood sister," she whispered. "To always be the sister he should have had."

"And I, Zuko, swear to be Zamira's blood brother. To always be the brother she never got."

Their hands tightened, and their oath was sealed in blood.

---

Images threaded in and out, paired with sounds that didn't always match up. A pair of arms holding her tight, a warm thudding against her ear, a roaring ache near her shoulder. The crash of the sea, the sharp pattering of footsteps against a cave wall, a deep, harsh voice shouting into the air.

Everything felt fuzzy, like she'd been wrapped in pig-sheep's wool. Breathing was hard, but her body insisted on it. Blurred colors streaked across her vision, and her eyelids fluttered against her will. Every action…even thinking was a battle waged in her body.

The noise around her grew louder, causing her to wince. Why was everything so deafening? Voices exchanged back and forth, only barely passing over the crash of waves against rocks. Her pounding head couldn't take much more stimulation, so it wasn't long before her eyes rolled back into her head, and she went limp in the arms carrying her.

---

There it was. Just sitting there, on his nightstand, its cheap lock practically begging to be picked. She could do this one with her eyes closed, and truthfully, she was almost tempted to try it that way. But speed was essential for this, so she kept them open. In seconds, the lid was flung back and she was staring down at a tangled mess of jewelry.

But she only had eyes for a single piece: there, cordoned off in a small, sunken velvet square, was a thin gold circle. She reached out, hand trembling slightly, and picked it up. The ring felt smooth in her hand as her fingers ran against the supple flames carved into the metal. Her mother's wedding ring, locked away for thirteen years. Her eyes drank in the sight like a parched man took in water.

Time slid by in a languid blur as she stood there, ring in hand, simply staring. This was the strongest connection she'd ever found to her dead mother. There were no portraits and Xua was forbidden from talking about her. All of the servants were. This was the closest she'd ever felt to the woman who'd given her life, and it was only a piece of jewelry.

Finally, she lowered her hand to replace the ring. But a little voice in the back of her mind stopped her. Why should you put it back? it asked. It's been locked away for thirteen years. No one would miss it if you took it. So she pulled her hand back, fingers knit in a tight fist. She tucked the ring away into her pocket and shut the lid to the jewelry box, making sure to lock it. Nothing was out of place. No one would miss it.

But when her father summoned her to his office late that night, there was no reassuring that panicky side of her. She was her father's daughter, though, so she remained expressionless as she entered the room, head down and hands folded demurely. "Yes, Father?" she asked, her gaze on her slipper-clad feet.

"It seems that something of mine is missing," he said quietly from behind his desk. "Something very valuable."

Zamira waited for more to come, but he remained silent. "What was it?"

"A piece of jewelry," he said stiffly. "A ring."

"I did not know you owned a ring," Zamira said, and though the words were somewhat neutral, there was a cheeky tone to her voice. Despite her determination to look innocent, it seemed that there was a part of her screaming to be caught.

Kurzu stood up abruptly, hands slamming down on the desk. "Do not disrespect me!" he growled, eyes flashing. "I know you took it."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, but even she had to wince at the weakness of her lie.

"Do not lie to me," he said, enunciating every vowel. "Return it, and your punishment may not be as severe."

"No." The word escaped her mouth before she could stop it.

Kurzu froze, a look of absolute shock on his face. "What did you say?"

"No," Zam repeated, a bit startled at her own gumption. "I will not. The ring in rightfully mine, and you have kept it from me. I took it back."

"How dare you," he whispered, his voice tight and dangerous.

"How dare I?" Zam cried tremulously. "How dare you! You keep this from me all my life, the one connection to the woman who birthed me? Agni, Father, I know you loved her, but is it so much to ask that you tell me about her? To let me see what she looked like?"

"You will not question my decisions." Kurzu's knuckles turned white as he gripped the edges of his desk.

"Yes. Yes, I will! How could you, Father? How could you keep her from me? How could you keep me at arm's length—never praising me, never telling me that I've done well? Where is the honor of the man who does not love his own daughter?" She spat the questions out full-force, and it wasn't until she was finished that she realized what she had done.

Kurzu was out from behind his desk and in front of her in the time it took to blink. He grabbed her arms tightly, his amber eyes boring into her bronze. "You would question my honor?!" he thundered. "I let you live in my house, when I should have cast you out the moment you were born! It was your entry into this world that took my love from it. But I let you live, and you have the audacity to question me?"

Zamira wasn't listening. The moment Kurzu had started speaking, the heat had begun. His fingertips began to rise in temperature, followed quickly by his hands. His skin grew hotter and hotter, until his hands felt like an inferno. Zamira watched in horror as her shirtsleeves began to char and burn away, leaving her skin exposed to the deadly power of her father's hands.

She felt nothing at first. Her skin was used to the burn of firebending and was able to stave off the pain for a few short moments. But that could only last so long. Soon, the heat began to penetrate her senses, and as her skin began to blister, it started. It was as though liquid metal was being poured onto her arms, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. She was being branded by her father's hands, and his grip was too tight for her to break.

Her father kept yelling, screaming at her, but she could not listen. Her gaze was on her skin, which was slowly burning under her father's grip. She began to scream in agony.

That startled him, and he released her. She sagged to the ground, arms flung out. Two angry handprints were seared onto her blistered skin, though the damage had spread much farther than that. The patches throbbed with her pulse, and Zamira felt weak in the haze of pain. Her father was saying something, but still she could not hear.

She clumsily picked herself up and stumbled from his office, arms gingerly held out. She needed the palace doctors, quickly.

And then she needed to pack.

---

Waking up felt like drowning.

She was underwater in her own consciousness, struggling against the bonds of sleep. They dragged her under, and the harder she fought, the harder they clung to her limbs. She kicked, she punched, she swam higher and higher, until the sun began filtering through the ocean she was in. The tendrils receded bit by bit, and Mira's eyes fluttered open.

Gray—all around her. That was all she could see. A gray metal roof, bordered by gray metal walls. A blurry shape sat by her, though no matter how hard she blinked, it wouldn't come into focus. She swallowed, but the action caught as her throat gave a cry of protest.

Muffled sounds echoed in the air, but Mira couldn't make sense of them. Gradually, consonants sharpened and vowels shortened into comprehensible words.

"Is she awake?" Male, with a light tone.

"No. She keeps muttering in her sleep, but that's it." Female, worried, a softer edge to her voice.

"How long is she gonna be out?"

"I don't know. She suppressed her bending for three years, then overextended herself minutes after almost being strangled. That's a lot for her body to process. I'm not seriously concerned yet—she needs time to recuperate."

"What—what if she doesn't wake up?"

"She will." Male, husky voice, sharp inflection.

"How do you know?"

"It's Zam. She's stubborn that way."

There was a long pause before the lighter male voice said, "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm still kind of worried about her."

The female voice answered him. "Me too. That and I'm just so angry, and then I'm feeling guilty about being angry when she's practically comatose—"

"I know what you mean."

"Sokka…why didn't she tell us?"

The sharp, husky voice cut in. "She had her reasons."

"Oh, come on, Zuko. You more than any of us deserves to be angry with her."

"And I am. But I'm choosing to wait until I hear her side of the story."

"…Hm. Well, I can't argue with that. Tell me when she wakes up."

"I will."

Mira tried to open her mouth, to protest that she was awake, but she discovered that she'd merely been treading water. Sleep washed over her once more and dragged her down into the depths.

---

She hesitated, already perched on the windowsill. She could do it. All she had to do was lean ever-so-slightly forward, and she would be gone. No one would ever catch her. No one would ever hurt her again. But…

Could she leave without saying goodbye? She felt no guilt about leaving her father. The bandages hidden under her leather strips made sure she would never forget what he did. But Zuko…he was the one person in the palace who deserved a good-bye.

So she hopped off the windowsill and slipped through her bedroom door, keeping to the shadows as she softly padded down the large hallways of the palace. Unfortunately, she had no idea where he might be. She couldn't afford to delay her departure so long, and every empty hallway only increased her unease.

She was about to give up her search when she turned a corner and saw him coming her way. His eyes lit up as he saw her. "Zam!" he called. "I've got a new form to show you!"

She shushed him frantically and dragged him into an empty conference room adjacent to the hallway. "What's going on?" he asked, concerned.

Zamira bit her lip, not sure how to continue. How do you tell your best friend you're leaving, and may never see him again?

"Zamira?" he asked, sensing that something was wrong. "What's wrong?"

"I can't tell you," she said miserably. She'd already made up her mind about that. She couldn't let Zuko know the reason for her leaving. Knowing him, he wouldn't be able to keep it a secret. He'd confront her father, and Agni knew that wouldn't end well for him.

"What do you mean?"

"I have to leave," she said.

"What? Why? Where are you going?"

"I can't tell you why. And I don't know where. But I have to go."

"You'll be back soon, though, right?" he asked anxiously, but his eyes betrayed him. He already knew the answer.

"No," she whispered. "I can't come back. And I can't stay. I just wanted to say goodbye."

"No!" he said fiercely, shaking his head. "You can't."

"I need to do this, Zuko," she said gently. "I didn't want to go without telling you."

"Why go?" After a brief pause, he asked softly, "Is it because of me?"

"No!" she cried. "Not at all." She reached out and touched his arm gently. "It's something else. But it's not you. It was never you."

The look he gave her nearly made her change her mind. But the hot throbbing of her burns strengthened her resolve. "Goodbye, Zuko," she said.

"Bye, Zam," he said softly.

Her arms around his neck as she buried her face in his neck for one final hug. He held her tightly before letting her go. She gave him a watery smile, and turned to leave.

She didn't look back.

---

This time, when she woke, it wasn't a battle. Her eyelids fluttered open gently and when she took a breath, it didn't feel like dying. Her throat still throbbed, but it was the dull ache of a recovering wound. Her shoulder felt much the same way.

Fragments of images ran through her mind. Mira frowned and pushed them away. It was impossible…no, it'd been a dream. It had to be. She looked around, taking in her surroundings.

Gray steel walls surrounded her in a small, sparsely decorated room. She was lying on a bed across from a thick door; a little table stood to her left. A low table was pushed against the wall to her right, a lurid red banner hanging above it. One symbol was stitched into it with thick black thread, and Mira squinted to make it out.

The edges cleared…and a jolt of fear shot straight into her heart.

The flames of the Fire Nation leaped from the cloth, painting a very clear picture as to who owned the room she lay in. Mira's feet were on the floor before an order even left her brain. She lurched forward, single-handedly focused on the door before her. The ground pitched and rolled violently beneath her.

A ship. I'm on a ship owned by the Fire Nation. A string of expletives ran through her mind as she threw her arms out for balance. She overcompensated and pitched to the left. Squeezing her eyes shut, she braced for impact.

Hands caught her waist, and she turned to lash out at their owner. Her fist struck flesh, and a grunt ripped through the air. Mira took a savage pleasure in it.

"Ow! Agni, settle down, little sister. It's me."

Mira froze. That voice…so her dreams hadn't been dreams, but memories. The shock of hearing him was only overshadowed by the shock of what he'd said. He hadn't called her that since…well, since before she'd left. She certainly wasn't expecting him to call her that now.

The hands pulled away, and Mira turned to see that they belonged to a cloaked figure who'd been tucked away in a shadowed corner of the room. The hood came down to reveal Zuko, mouth twisted like he hadn't quite liked the taste of the words he'd said.

"You…haven't called me that in a while," Mira said quietly.

"Yeah, well, it sorta slipped out," he said roughly. "I didn't mean it."

Mira swallowed hard, trying to ignore the splinters of glass that seemed intent of wedging themselves in her chest. "Where are we? What happened?" Memories were still filtering in, broken and disjointed, but one remained clear in all its wretched glory. "Aang," she breathed, face crumpling.

"Is alive and well," Zuko finished.

Relief rushed through her, loosening every muscle in her body and causing her to sag again. Zuko caught her elbow and led her to the bed, making sure she was firmly seated on the edge before releasing her and taking a seat on the chair nearby. "Are you sure?" Mira said weakly. "He was hit with lightning—"

"Katara had some sort of special water." It was obvious that he didn't know the exact specifics on the healing and wasn't going to elaborate. "Aang's fine. Scarred and bruised, but he's alive. Still hasn't woken up, but Katara says it's nothing to worry about."

"Thank Agni," Mira said softly. "I thought…" She swallowed down her words and instead took a long look at the boy in front of her.

He met her gaze head-on in that unflinching way of his that so easily put others on edge. A dozen phrases popped into her head, but none of them did justice to their situation. But something else did have the words crafted in just the right way…

She looked around, ignoring Zuko's puzzled look. A brown strip of leather peeking out next to the bed caught her eyes, and she reached down to snatch her belt off the floor. A small pouch on the side held what she was after. Mira pulled it out with a flourish. Wordlessly, she handed a folded, smudged letter to him. He took it and began to read, lips barely moving as his eyes skimmed the page.

Mira had the words memorized, of course. How could she not, with all the times she'd written and re-written it, trying to find the best way of explaining what she'd done? The version she'd handed Zuko contained the best one she'd come up with, but even then, she wasn't sure it would be enough.

Zuko,

Chances are, you will never read this letter. Chances are, I will never see you again, and I will never be able to explain to you why I did what I did. But chances have a way of not working out how they should, and so I'm writing this in the hopes that I do get to send this to you. Or, though it seems unlikely, the chance that I will see you again. Agni knows I hope for the latter.

I refused to tell you why I was leaving that night, and I know you don't understand. First, let me tell you the events leading up to my departure, and then I will address the whys.

You know what my relationship with my father was—it was barely any relationship at all. He blamed me for my mother's death, and wanted nothing to do with me. You know all this. What you don't know is what happened the night I left.

I stole my mother's wedding band. My father kept it in a locked box on his nightstand, but you know me. I took it that morning, but my father discovered its absence that night. He confronted me, and I confessed. Part of me wanted him to relent and give it to me, but I think you know my father enough to know that that wouldn't happen. He told me off and demanded it back. I said no. I'd spent so many years angry at my father that I exploded. I yelled at him. I questioned the honor of a father who didn't love his own daughter.

You can imagine how that went.

He was livid with me. He grabbed my arms, and you know how easy it is for me to lose my temper. It seems that this anger runs in the family. He lost control, and he began to burn my arms. I struggled, but he would not yield. Finally, when I started screaming, he let me go, and I ran. I had my injuries bandaged by the palace doctor, and I immediately started packing. I was going to leave that night, but I couldn't leave without seeing you. Without saying goodbye.

I know you're asking why I didn't tell you what happened. This is why: I knew you weren't like me. I knew you wouldn't leave with me, but I also knew that you would want to at the same time. You still believed in your father, and you wouldn't understand me leaving mine. But you would be angry on my behalf, and I knew you would want to do something about it. I knew you would be pulled in so many different directions if I told you why I was leaving, and I didn't want to do that to you. You had to make your decision on your own, and I didn't want to influence you in any way. You needed to choose your own path, as I chose mine. Perhaps I chose the wrong one, but it was my decision to make. No matter what you think of me, know this—what I did was for you, but it was also for me.

You may never read this letter. Maybe that's because I'll never see you again. Hopefully it's because I'll get to tell you all this myself. But it's a letter I will always carry with me, nevertheless.

Love always,

Zam

He looked up as he finished, but didn't say anything. Mira found herself biting her lip in anxiety, eyes boring into his face as she tried to read his reaction.

Finally, he spoke. "I figured as much. From what you said in the cavern."

"Every word of that was true."

"…You could have told me."

"No, I couldn't have." He tried to protest, but she cut him off. "No, I couldn't have," she repeated, "and you know it. You know what you were like. What you're still like. You're a passionate person by nature, and while it's your best quality, it's also your worst. You'd have said something to my father, or to someone else, and it'd have gotten you in trouble. I was just trying to protect you the best way I knew how."

"That was my decision to make."

"Maybe it was, but I did what I did. I can't change the past, and honestly? Maybe things turned out for the best for us."

"How can you say that?"

"Well…you're with us now…aren't you?" Mira's voice was very small, and she avoided Zuko's gaze as she said this.

He let out a sigh. "Yes. I suppose I am." But the look on her face told her that he wasn't so sure.

"I wanted you to make that choice on your own. Not because of me."

Zuko grimaced. "Maybe…I understand that. I hate to admit it, but I understand." Mira began to smile, but it was obliterated with his next words. "Still…I haven't forgiven you."

And with that, he left the room, leaving Mira to kick herself and wonder where exactly in her screwed-up life she went wrong.

---

She wasn't alone for very long. Katara bustled in twenty minutes after Zuko left, carrying a wooden bowl of water and a clean cloth. She didn't meet Mira's gaze as she set both down on the side table, and Mira felt her stomach clench. "If you're here to lecture me," she said, voice quiet, "you needn't bother. Zuko's already done that."

Katara sighed and straightened up. "You can't expect to get away with this without one."

"I don't. Just—could you hold it off until I can explain everything at once? Then you can do it in front of everyone," she said in a bitter undertone. "You may not like what I did, but you can't fault my reasoning."

"I think that's what makes it worse—I really can't. I know why you lied to us, and I understand it. But that doesn't mean I'm not still angry about it…or that I'll forgive you anytime soon."

"That's what Zuko said."

"He's right, you know."

She sighed. "He always was the sensible one."

"Zuko, the sensible one in that friendship?" Katara's eyebrows shot up. "I find that hard to believe."

"I was a bit of a demon child. Zuko was the best of me."

"You were close, weren't you?"

"As close as you and Sokka are now. Probably closer. He was my only friend growing up, and I was his. Be angry with me all you want, but I think he's got a greater claim to hate me. I'm still not sure why he's here."

"I don't know if this makes you feel any better, but he stayed in you room the entire time you were sleeping. Made for a couple of nerve-wracking healing sessions, but he did help us back in the cave." A small stream of water floated up from the bowl and coiled around Mira's shoulder as Katara began to work. "I don't know what you said to him, but I think it worked. I believe he joined us because of you."

Mira shook her head emphatically. "No. No, he came of his own right. I can't be the only reason why he's here." Saying the words didn't make them true, though,

The pressure in Mira's shoulder began to ease as Katara's hands ran over the swollen joint. "Maybe not. But I do know that he's still waiting on an explanation. We all are."

"I already gave him one. He hasn't forgiven me, but he says he understands. I'll spill my guts whenever you want me to. Just say the word." Her brow furrowed as something occurred to her. "I never asked and Zuko never mentioned…where are we? Why the Fire Nation ship?"

Katara switched to Mira's throat. "I forgot that you didn't know. Well, after I took Aang from the cavern, we met up with Sokka and Toph on Appa. I healed Aang…," there was a tightness in her voice as she spoke, "…and we saw Zuko carrying you on a cliff right by the coast."

"And you picked us up?" Mira asked, incredulous. "Why? I mean, I'm glad you did, don't get me wrong, but…Zuko's prince of the Fire Nation and I'm the general's daughter. Why on earth would you take us with you?"

"Do you really have so little faith in us?" Katara looked injured as she pulled back.

"Not you, specifically. People in general, more like. There aren't very many who've given me reason to believe. It's nothing against you personally." Even still, Mira wouldn't meet Katara's eyes.

"I suppose I understand you better now," Katara said grudgingly. She finished the healing session in silence, leaving a stifling silence in her wake.

"Then you've got a leg up on me," Mira said, sighing. "I've no idea who I am now."

"How about you start with who you were, and we'll go from there."

---

Now, Mira was not a nervous person. She possessed a remarkable composure for someone with her temperament—something she'd picked up quickly once she'd decided to quit bending. Rage was a popular emotion among firebenders, and while Mira tried not to rely on it too much, she had been known for her fiery outbursts. Patience, therefore, was a learned skill.

A learned skill that was quite easily forgotten, it seems. Fingers drummed against her arm as she sat on an uncomfortable metal chair on the deck of the ship. Zuko was perched on a chest of rope and other supplies nearby, his face blank. Mira ground her teeth. If he looked at her with that expression one more time, she'd smack it off his face.

She turned her head to watch the others, but that made the waiting even worse. It was a slow process, gathering all those in charge to hear her story. The ship was large, and it took quite some time to get a message to everyone aboard. Her friends were there, though, and Mira found herself wishing that they weren't.

Katara had been right when she'd said that forgiveness would not come easy. They all wore various expressions of anger across their faces. Mira looked away before they could meet her gaze and began playing with a fraying hem on her sleeve.

She wanted to match their anger with her own, but found that she couldn't quite bring herself to. Exhaustion flooded her limbs. Playing Mira for so long had left her drained and weak; she simply didn't have the energy to summon the spark she always carried around with her. So as much as she wanted to be angry…she couldn't find the will to.

When she next looked up, she was faced by a semi-circle of wary-looking Water Tribe warriors, headed by a tall man with short dreadlocks. He stood by Katara and Sokka, arms crossed, and if Mira had to guess, she'd say this was Hakoda. His presence meant her story could begin (though it felt more like a trial at this point).

The thread she'd been winding around her finger cut into her skin. With a vicious yank, she pulled it from her shirt and it fluttered to the ground. Mira tried to ignore the same sensation within her as she took a deep breath and began to speak.

"My real name isn't Mirala Tsung, but then again, you knew that already. I was born Zamira Taiyo, daughter of Kurzu Taiyo, Ozai's most trusted general." Hushed murmurs rippled through the crowd, and Mira cut them off before they could spread too far. "I hope you don't hold that against me; no one hates the man more than I." She looked to her friends. "Really, you'd be surprised how much of the truth I told you."

"A lie of omission is still a lie," Hakoda said mildly.

"I mean, if you want to discuss semantics, then okay," Mira said sharply, a little peeved. "C'mon. I'm the daughter of a top Fire Nation general. I couldn't exactly waltz up to you guys and tell you the truth."

"You could have said something later," Sokka said, his voice flat and hard.

"Okay, fine, I'll give you that one."

"Can you please try to take this seriously?" Katara snapped.

"It's either this, or I get super pissed. I figure you'd prefer flippant sarcasm."

"Mira—"

"Let's put you on trial and see how your composure holds up, yeah?" The last word ended on a squeak as her pitch steadily rose.

"This isn't a trial," Hakoda said, voice low and smooth. "We just want to hear your story."

"Really? 'Cause it feels like a trial." Mira's eyes darted back and forth, and her muscles trembled from the tension she kept pouring into them.

A hand fell on her shoulder, causing her to jump. Zuko was now behind her and to the right, and despite his continued anger with her, his presence calmed her down. "Right," she said, blowing out a breath. "I guess I'll start at the beginning.

"I was born on the winter solstice, which if you're a firebender, never means anything good. My story begins a lot like Yue's did, only the birth was hard on my mother as well. The midwife thought we both would die, and was just leaving the room to fetch my father when the doors slammed shut behind her and locked her out. For ten minutes, I was alone in the birthing room with my dying mother. When the doors finally opened again, the midwife saw a woman with hair the color of fire standing over me. In the next instant, she was gone."

"The spirit who saved your life." Katara looked interested despite herself.

Mira nodded. "I never did tell you who it was, mostly because that would've exposed me on the spot." She reached up and undid the red cloak she'd been given upon waking up. The fabric slid to the deck with a soft swish as Mira stood and turned around. Eyes screwed shut, she pulled down the collar of her shirt to expose the tattoo that marked the place between her neck and shoulders.

A small, blood-red imprint of Fire Nation flames was inked on the skin there, and had been since her birth. "It was Agni, the spirit of fire," she said, suddenly glad she could not see the reactions on her friends. "She saved my life, so now I'm her champion, bound to do her will." A note of bitterness had crept into her voice. She'd been good about forgetting that little aspect of her life, but now it sprang back with a vengeance. "Like Yue was expected to give back the moon spirit, I'm expected to do some task for my sponsor. That's all true, what I told you."

She released her collar and took her seat on the chair again. "My mother died that night, and I survived. My father couldn't bear that I had been the very thing that sent his wife to the grave." She laughed bitterly. "So he refused to raise me. I was handed off to a series of wet nurses and house maids as I grew up…but I was never really alone."

Zuko's hand tightened before he removed it from her shoulder. Mira sighed. This was the hard part. "Because I was daughter of Ozai's right hand man, I grew up in the Fire Nation palace, with Azula and Zuko. We were childhood friends."

Katara gasped as her eyes went wide. "Oh my Tui," she said. "That boy you were talking about, in the Foggy Swamp. The one you saw. That was…"

"Zuko," Mira confirmed, nodding. She looked to him, saw the confused expression on his face. "We were in a swamp, seeing things that we felt guilty about. One of the things I saw was you."

A muscle in Zuko's jaw twitched, and he looked away.

Mira tried to ignore the little rip in her chest as best she could. "I was mostly telling you the truth that day. I grew up with him, and I had to leave him behind when I left."

"Why did you leave the palace?" Toph asked, piping up.

Mira pushed her sleeves back and showed her burn scars. "I was telling you most of the truth when I told you about these, too," she said quietly. "I did receive them from a Fire Nation soldier. I just didn't tell you that the soldier was my father."

A hushed silence fell over the crowd as they stared at her in shock. Katara even took a step forward absently, mouth hanging open. Someone swore in a hushed tone.

"I'd grown tired of not knowing who my mother was, so I stole her ring." The gold band danced lazily in the air as she lifted up the chain. She watched it, the movement hypnotic. "He found out and demanded I give it back. I said no. He grew angry, grabbed my arms…and burned me. I went to the palace healers, packed my things, then left."

No one knew quite what to say when she was finished. Mira was almost glad for the silence. A stolen glance to Zuko, and his gaze met hers. Perhaps it was her imagination, but his fiery golden eyes felt a bit softer as they met hers.

"So let me get this straight. You grew up with Zuko, in the Fire Nation palace, got burned by your dad, ran off in the middle of the night, traveled the world, then joined us?" Sokka sounded like he didn't know whether to be skeptical or confused.

"Pretty much."

"Hold on," Toph said, stepping forward. "How did you manage to lie to me so well?"

"Well, for one, growing up in the palace usually means you learn to lie at an early age. Well, except if you're Zuko."

"I can lie," he said defensively.

"Uh, no, you can't. You're terrible at it. That's why you always left the talking to me."

"It wasn't that; you were in love with the sound of your own voice. I barely got a word in edgewise."

A small smile fluttered across her face as they bantered. She'd missed this so much and had started to think she'd never get the chance with him again. He noticed the smile and stiffened, turning away like he'd said too much. The smile died on her face and she quickly looked to her feet. "Um, anyway…I'm already a good liar to begin with, I just avoided as many outright lies to begin with. Most of what I told you was partially true."

"But you told me you weren't from the Fire Nation."

"We were on Appa. I could have told you I was a pink, eight-legged turtle duck and you wouldn't have had any reason to doubt me."

Toph looked impressed. "Oh, you're good."

"Don't compliment her!" Sokka cried. "She lied to us!"

"Can you blame her?" Toph said. "I'd've done the same thing if I were her. Plus, she di save all our lives multiple times. If she were really an evil firebender, would she really have done that?"

"She could have been trying to gain our trust!" Sokka insisted, not back down. "Trying to lull us into a false sense of security so she could attack!" He chopped his arm out wildly, nearly clipping a man behind him.

"If that was really my plan, wouldn't I have done it already? What point does exposing everything about myself serve?"

Sokka stumbled. "I—don't know…but it's all a part of your plot, I know it."

"Sokka," Hakoda said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Calm down." He looked to Toph. "Is she telling the truth now?"

Toph nodded vigorously. "Oh yeah. None of that fuzzy stuff, either. Everything she's said has been the complete and total truth."

"Go ahead, ask me any question you want," Mira chimed in. "Toph can tell if I'm lying or not."

"Okay…are you a Fire Nation spy?" Sokka asked suspiciously.

"No, I am not. I never was."

"True."

"Are you loyal to the Fire Nation?"

"Yes."

"See?!"

"I'm not finished, Sokka. I'm loyal to my nation and to my prince, but not the Fire Lord. He's led our country astray, and I want to help fix that." She turned her eyes to Zuko, and her next words were solely for him. "If you really are on our side and want to defeat Ozai, I will stand behind you. You have my loyalty."

His lips pressed together in a flat line as he looked away.

Toph's voice was quiet—she knew she was interrupting something. "She's telling the truth."

Sokka's brows drew together and he sent Mira a hard glare. "I still don't like it."

She shrugged. "I'm not expecting you to. Hell, I'm just glad you didn't leave me in the cave to rot. If you want, you can drop me off at the next coast and you'll never have to see me again." It was killing her to say that, but she left the option open anyway.

"I don't think it has to come to that," Katara said quickly. "We do have to think about what you've told us." Her eyes flicked to Zuko. "And we have to talk about Zuko. Sorry," she said, directing this to him.

Zuko shrugged uncomfortably. Mira made a mental note to find him and talk to him later, even if that meant strapping him to a chair. If she knew him as well as she used to, everything was happening a little too fast for him. He needed to talk it through, and hopefully she could be that pair of ears.

Please, Agni, let him trust me again. The prayer drifted skyward almost against her own will.

She watched the others closely, trying to gauge their reactions. "So…are we good? That's literally every secret I've got. There is nothing left inside of me for you to find."

"Thank you for your honesty," Hakoda said formally. "I'll talk with some of my men, but ultimately, it's up to your friends whether you travel with them or not."

Mira stood, but before she could move forward, Katara looked at her. "Like I said, we'll talk," she said. "I'll meet you in your room for another healing session tonight, and I'll tell you what we've decided."

She nodded, trying to keep the nervous energy clamped down. Another waiting game. Great.

Soon, only Zuko remained on the deck with her. He made to leave, but Mira rocked forward, hand extended. "Zuko, please. Talk to me."

His voice was level as he answered. "I don't know what you want me to say."

"I don't want you to say anything. Or—no, that's not right." She sighed. "What I'm trying to say is that I'm not expecting you to say anything specific. I just want to know what's going through your head. You just made a huge decision, and I'm getting the feeling that it's not the one you wanted to make."

Zuko was still for such a long time, Mira began to wonder if she'd offended him. But then he sighed and turned toward the side rail of the deck. Mira hurried after him, leaning on the metal railing as he looked out over the choppy sea.

"Sometimes I wish things could go back to the way they used to be," he said, so quietly the waves almost drowned him out. "Back when we were thirteen and didn't know any better. Before the scars, before the reality of the war sank in…before everything."

"I wish for that every day," Mira said. "I wish I had never left you behind. You've got to know—that was the hardest choice I've ever made in my life."

"Part of me knows," he said. He was silent for a moment before he admitted, "I'm so confused. I thought staying loyal to my father was the honorable thing to do, but now…I'm not so sure." He slid her a sideways look. "Sometimes, back when I was really mad, I used to think you were the least honorable person I knew."

"Sometimes I'd agree with you."

"But I look at you now, and you care so much about them." He gestured vaguely to the doorway Aang and the others had disappeared into. "You have always cared so much about the people you love, so how can that be dishonorable? How can that loyalty be a bad thing?"

"I have never told anyone else this, because I don't think they'd understand. You would, though. You always listened to me." She paused, gathering her thoughts. "I was so angry and confused that night. My own father, the man who was half responsible for my very existence, had just scarred me. I couldn't see the honor in that, and for the longest time, I thought honor didn't exist. I didn't believe in anyone, especially myself.

"But then I traveled to so many different places, and I saw so many good people from the Earth Kingdom, our supposed enemies. I learned that just as there is an unlimited capacity to do evil, there is also an unlimited capacity for good. And I thought to myself, that maybe honor was something you gave yourself."

"Where were you when I needed to hear that?"

"I'm right here, and you're hearing it now. You made the right choice, Zuko."

"Did I?" His voice was a whisper, as if airing the doubt would make it grow into some uncontrollable idea. "Every waking moment I've been here, I wonder if I've done the right thing. I can't say that to anyone, though. They'd throw me off the moment they heard those words pass my lips."

"You can say it to me. You can say anything you want, and I will never judge you for it. I owe you that much."

"It's just…I can never go home now. I will never earn my father's forgiveness."

"Would you really be happy going home, though? I mean, I know it was different for you than for me, but I felt like I could never really be myself there. You were the only one that I truly felt comfortable with." She gave a wry chuckle. "It's ironic, isn't it, me taking about being yourself when I don't even know who I am anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"I've been playing the part of Mira for so long, I don't remember who Zamira was. And the parts I do remember aren't a point of pride for me. I don't want to be either of them, but I don't know what that leaves me with. I don't know who I am anymore, Zuko."

He looked at her carefully, but for the first time, Mira didn't feel anxious under his gaze. "I'm still mad and upset with you…but then you say things like that and I suddenly can't anymore."

"I don't want your pity," she said sharply. "Be angry, don't forgive me, but don't pity me. I can't stand it."

"I don't pity you. I'm saying I can't be mad because we're the same. You left and I stayed. I wonder sometimes, which took more bravery."

"You did," she answered immediately. "I ran away. I couldn't face anyone, so I left in the middle of the night."

"I never thought you a coward."

"Don't lie to me."

"Alright, maybe I did, once or twice. But I was young, and confused, and so angry all the time. And now…mostly I'm just tired. Tired of making excuses for myself, for others, tired of running."

"Welcome to my life." She sighed, sagging against the rail. "I'm glad you're still talking to me," she said, her words a mere whisper on the wind.

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it," he blustered, like he'd said too much. Pushing away from the rail, he quickly walked away, leaving her alone with the moon and the icy sea.

---

The low creaking of the metal door interrupted Mira from her inspection of the steel ceiling above her. She sat up and saw Katara framed in the doorway, another bowl of water in her hands. An unpleasant swooping sensation tangled her stomach as Mira swallowed hard. Despite her attempts at confidence, she genuinely didn't know what her friends would decide.

The moment of truth, then.

Katara stepped forward, shutting the door behind her and setting the bowl down on the nightstand. Mira swung her legs over the side of the bed, fists knotted in the sheets below her.

"We've decided…" Katara started uncertainly. She stopped, fiddling with the bowl as she bit her lip.

"Okay…" Mira said slowly. "Do I get to know, or are we going to play a guessing game?"

"Sokka's still angry with you, and maybe I am a little, too. Toph seems pretty okay with it, and I suppose we'll have to wait until Aang wakes up to find out what he thinks. But if he says it's alright, you can stay with us."

"What about Zuko?"

She hesitated. "It's up to him. He helped us out, but I think the main reason he's on board now is because you nearly died back there. I don't know what he would have done if he hadn't known who you were."

That was what really scared Mira. What if Zuko was only here for her? She couldn't be the reason he switched sides; that had to be his call. "I'll take to him," she promised. "But if he does want to leave, you've got to let him go." At Katara's incredulous look, she added, "You owe him that much. He did help us back there; if he wants to leave, that's how we'll repay him."

"What about you? What will you do if he leaves?"

"I can't go with him," Mira said, talking to herself more than Katara. "I can't go back to the palace…but he can't either." The realization dawned on her suddenly, and Mira almost slapped a hand to her forehead. Zuko had signed his arrest warrant the moment he'd turned against his sister. Even if he didn't want to join Aang, he couldn't go back to Caldera. That would leave him wandering the Fire Nation, something Mira was intimately acquainted with.

For a moment, she allowed herself to imagine leaving with him. Agni knows she'd dreamed of it often enough, back when she'd just left. It was tempting, yes…but the others needed her. She couldn't quit on Aang now. She'd promised to see this thing to the end, and she would.

Even if it meant leaving her best friend behind a second time.

"No," she said. "If you'll have me, I'll stay with all of you. No matter what Zuko decides."

Katara's eyes widened very slightly. "Should I send him in?"

"Yes, if you would."

The wooden bowl remained on the table as Katara left, and Mira realized with a start that no healing had taken place. No matter, her shoulder didn't bother her much. A green-yellow bruise still wrapped around her throat, but only time would heal that.

No matter how many times she started and restarted, Mira could not find the best words for Zuko. He was the only one who could bring out this side of her. Ever the standard she measured herself against as a child, Zuko had always been the good one in their partnership. He listened to his elders, completed his schoolwork on time, threw himself whole-heartedly into his firebending.

Zamira, however, was the very epitome of hellion. Wet nurses threw their hands up in the air and declared her a lost cause; teachers shook their heads as they lamented her wasted potential. The only area in which she excelled was bending, but that was only because no one ordered her to do it. She was a fiercely independent child, and the only one who ever had a hope of controlling her had been Zuko.

One quiet word from him, and with a pout or a whine, she'd immediately cease whatever she was up to. Early on, she'd found that he held a little more sense than she did (though, honestly, that wasn't saying too much). Several times a hissed order on his part had saved her from a nasty scolding, and it wasn't long after when she accepted his leadership without (much) question. Adults marveled at his ability to control her. He didn't seem to think much of it, and neither did she. They accepted each other as they were, in that unconditional way that children do.

But sixteen is not six, and time has a way of distorting and warping the relationships between friends, as Mira was just now finding.

The door creaked open for the second time that evening, and Mira's gut wasn't any less in knots. Zuko seemed to have taken quite well to the Fire Nation cloak everyone sported, though secretly Mira wondered if he wore it to look mysterious.

"Katara said you wanted to see me?" His voice betrayed nothing. Mira had to stifle a huff of irritation. This would be so much easier if she just knew what the hell he was thinking.

"They'll let me stay," she said. "They're not happy, but I can stay."

Zuko was silent as he took what Mira figured to be his customary seat next to her bed. He watched her steadily. It set Mira on edge.

"They talked about you, too," she said suddenly, searching for something to knock him off balance.

It did. Zuko's eyebrow rose slightly, and a spark of surprise flickered in his eyes. "What did they say?"

"What you do is up to you. You're welcome to travel with us, since you did help back in the cave."

"But…?"

"There's no 'but'."

"Maybe not from them, but I can hear it in your voice."

Damn him and his selective perception. The boy could be remarkably dense in some areas while remaining stunningly astute in others. "Okay. Fine. I have a 'but'."

"And…?"

"You've heard this before, but I cannot—cannot—be the reason you stay with us. If you have any doubts about joining Aang, I suppose I can understand that. But if you think even for a second about hurting him or turning on him in any way…I'll deliver you to the palace myself." The words were poison on her tongue, but her eyes flashed with a fierce sincerity.

Finally—finally—Zuko looked ruffled. He tried to cover it up with a flippant remark. "I wondered when I'd see this tough side to you again. Moping isn't a good look."

"Excuse me!" Mira sat up straight, indignant. "I am not moping!"

"Could've fooled me."

Mira slammed a fist down on the bed next to her, but due to the pliancy of the mattress, the gesture didn't look as intimidating as she'd hoped. "Dammit, Zuko, I'm being serious! You want to travel with us, you've got to have your shit together!"

"You think I don't know that?" he said suddenly, leaning forward. "You think I haven't been consumed by that since I stepped foot on this ship? You weren't the only one under trial, Zam. I've been scrutinized ever since the cave; I don't need it from you."

"I know you don't, but…I'm the one who knows you best. I know the most about what goes on in that head of yours: the values, the hopes, the doubts. That decision in the cave was literally the biggest one of your life, and I'd be surprised if you weren't second-guessing yourself. I just…" She broke off, looking away. "I feel like I forced your hand back there. I don't want to be responsible for any regrets."

"We're already past that point, don't you think?"

Mira shot him a wounded look.

"I'm sorry." He looked up, rubbing his temples, and for a moment he looked so much like his thirteen-year-old self. "I'm going to be completely honest with you: it's insulting—and more than a little egotistical—that you think you're responsible for my decisions. I don't do anything I don't want to do. I may make the wrong decisions, but they are mine. I made a choice back in the cave, so don't flatter yourself that you had so much to do with it."

Mira bit her lip, chastened. She hadn't quite thought of it that way, but now the words had been said, she could not deny their truth. Zuko had always been (and would continue to be) stubbornly independent. To assume that she was the reason (or even the fault) behind his decision was insulting him. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean it like that."

Zuko sighed, shoulders relaxing slightly. "I can't promise that I am totally confident in the choice I made. You know I've got doubts. But I can promise you this: while I haven't managed to forgive you quite yet, I am as loyal to you as you are to me. I may not be able to pledge loyalty to Aang yet, but I can pledge it to you."

A lump rose in Mira throat; it took two tries to swallow it and speak. "I'll take it." And before she could stop herself, she leaned forward and threw her arms around him.

Zuko stiffened under her touch, and a part of Mira did the same. She didn't initiate affection; she was the one to awkwardly accept an embrace, not start one. A light flush crept across her neck and ears, but she didn't pull back. It'd been three years since she'd had the chance to hug him and she'd be damned if she was going to throw the opportunity away, awkward or not.

After an uneasy moment, Zuko returned the embrace, though he didn't hold her as quite as tightly as she did him. Well, she hadn't expected him to anyway.

She pulled away, a small smile on her face. "Thank you," she said.

He examined her face closely. "How did I not know it was you?"

"We see what we expect to see. That, and I don't look quite like I did then, do I?"

"I almost said something, back in the cave. Your voice cracked, and you sounded a lot younger." His eyes widened, and Mira could almost see him mentally smack himself. "The claustrophobia. How did I not see that?"

She shrugged. "Lots of people have claustrophobia. You also thought I was dead, so you weren't exactly on the lookout for me, were you?"

He shook his head. "I didn't think you were dead. Your father said you were, and everyone else believed it, but I knew you'd run away. I didn't say anything, but I knew you were okay." He paused, and what he said next was almost lost in the sounds of the ship. "I looked for you, those years I was searching for the Avatar. Whenever we stopped and had shore leave, I couldn't stop myself looking for your face."

Guilt nearly choked Mira. "I'm sorry—"

He lifted a hand. "Don't."

Mira didn't.

---

It seemed the entire journey aboard the Fire Nation was to be a waiting game. Aang still hadn't woken, and despite Katara's assurances that he'd be just fine, the tension inside Mira ratcheted up a notch every day that he remained sleeping.

Sparring helped relieve the excess energy, so Mira took to practicing on the main deck of the ship every afternoon. Zuko had yet to join her, and though it hurt, she understood why. Things between them were still apprehensive, and sparring wasn't the best way to work through it.

Sokka and Toph usually wandered up to watch, seeing as how it was one of the rare times they could see firebending without actively worrying for their lives. Well, Toph watched through her feet and threw out the occasional comment about how Earthbending was that much better. Sokka mostly just stood there with his arms crossed tightly and his mouth slanted in a thin line. He still wasn't happy with her, but the temptation of seeing firebending at work proved to be more powerful than his irritation.

Mira didn't think the drills she was running were all that impressive, but she wasn't about to mention that. If they helped earn a way back into his good graces, she'd take it.

It'd been three years since she'd actively used her bending, and though she was craving to pick up the more advanced techniques, she was practical enough to realize that starting from the beginning was best. The first thing she'd done was meditation and breathing exercises, and only when she was confident in her ability to control her fire did she move on to the simple forms.

Though it was disappointing that Zuko couldn't spar with her, Mira was also relieved. It was more than a little embarrassing to be running forms that she hadn't touched since she was six and first starting her training. The memories had foggy with age when she first dusted them off, but they sharpened with use.

It wasn't until she'd moved onto actual fighting exercises that her friends had drifted over to watch. Toph had been the first, listening carefully and feeling the movement of Mira's feet. Sokka had joined the next day, though he said nothing. Katara sometimes watched after her healing sessions with Aang and occasionally commented on the differences and similarities to waterbending. Mira hadn't replied much, but the days that they watched her seemed a little brighter.

Three weeks after the events of the cave, Aang finally woke.

The afternoon light had just faded from the horizon, and the deck was lit by the orange glow of Mira's firebending as she drilled herself on a series of roundhouse kicks. She was facing the bow when the door behind her burst open with a clang. The flames died in the air as Mira turned around to find a small, slender figure slumped on the deck. White bandaged wrapped around his torso, highlighting his sallow skin. Mira squinted, trying to identify who the person was. He looked familiar, but at the same time, something seemed off…

It took her an embarrassingly long time to realize the figure was Aang. The blue tip of an arrow poking out from underneath scrubby brown hair was what finally tipped her off. Mira hadn't realized how much the bald head and arrow went towards identifying him. Take that away and he looked like a totally different person.

Several figures rushed to his aid, but Mira decided to hang back. Aang's last memory of her was from the cave, and she wasn't sure exactly how he'd react to seeing her. Best to wait until he was feeling better and filled in on her situation.

Muffled snatches of conversation drifted across the deck, but Mira was too far away to understand what was being said. That is, until Katara began snapping at her father. Mira's ears pricked up at the sharp words. She hadn't known that Katara and Hakoda were fighting. Then again, Mira was no longer on the list of people Katara would have shared that with.

Katara helped Aang to stand and led him belowdecks as the crowd surrounding him began to disperse. Night had fully fallen by this time, leading Mira to call it quits with the drilling.

A leather waterskin was draped on the railing by her practice area, bobbing up and down with the ship. Mira popped the cap and squirted some water in her mouth, grimacing at the leathery aftertaste. That was what she got for leaving it out in the midday sun. She set the pouch down and leaned against the railing, eyes sliding shut as the sea breeze whisked away the sweat on her skin. The faint tang of salt touched her tongue and filled her nose with that sharp odor of the sea.

"Nothing quite like it, is there?"

Mira's eyes flew open, revealing Hakoda standing by her side, gaze fixed on the gently rolling waves. Since the her little trial, Hakoda had said nothing to her beyond the occasional greeting as they passed each other. Honestly, Mira was a little glad for that. Hakoda was a powerful-looking man with a craggy face and clearly defined muscles. Even when he was smiling, he could be intimidating.

"Nothing quite like what?" she asked, wary.

"The sea. She's quite the beauty, but isn't something to be messed with. Much like my daughter and her friends," he added, shooting her a sideways look.

Mira shifted from foot to foot. "Um…I don't know—I'm probably not the best person to talk about that with," she said awkwardly. "I'm not exactly in her good graces, either."

"Maybe that makes you the best person to talk to," Hakoda said, a hint of a smile on his face.

"Look, don't feel like you have to be nice to me just because I'm a friend of your kids. It's okay."

"You think I wouldn't want to talk to you if you weren't?"

"Frankly, sir, I'm not sure why you're talking to me."

Hakoda was silent for a moment as he stared out past the ship. "If there's one thing I know about my daughter, it's that she's loyal. She will forgive you eventually."

"I'm sure the same goes for you."

"I don't know about that."

"You're her father; she's bound to forgive you."

Hakoda turned to her, head tilted curiously. "Is that bitterness I detect?"

"Sorry," she said, suddenly seized with the urge to be completely honest. "I just don't have a lot of faith in fathers. Mine burned me, Zuko's burned him, Toph's locked her up and took away her freedom. From what I've seen, my cynicism is justified."

Hakoda gave her a long look before saying, "Please, don't let what you've seen define fatherhood for you."

"I don't, really…well, I guess I do." She bit her lip, then added in a quiet voice, "I think you're better than the ones I've met. Katara should know that."

Hakoda smiled kindly. "Thank you for saying that."

"Thank you for not talking to me like I'm the enemy."

"From what I've heard, you're far from it."

Mira wasn't quite sure she believed him, but she nodded anyway.

---

Aang didn't make another reappearance until lunch the next day. Katara's healing session did wonders for his complexion, as he didn't look nearly as pallid as he had the day before. Before he could join the others in the center of the deck, Mira neatly sidled over and pulled him to the side.

"Mira!" he said, surprised. A troubled expression crossed his features as he added, "Or…I guess you're Zamira, aren't you?"

"Katara told you my story, then," Mira said flatly, unsurprised. "And you can still call me Mira. I'm more used to it, anyway."

There was an long pause, as neither knew what to say next. Aang shuffled from foot to foot, eyes looking everywhere but the girl in front of him.

Mira sighed gustily. "I guess I just wanted to know where we stood. I know Sokka's really pissed, Toph seems alright enough, and Katara's…well, I'm not sure about Katara. She's hard to get a read on. But I just wanted to know where I was with you, so I know how long it's going to be before you trust me again. And before you say anything," she added quickly, "I want you to know something: I was always loyal to you, even as a firebender. And I still am, if you're okay with me staying by your side."

Aang thought for a moment before answering. "I don't think I'm really mad," he said slowly. "Well, maybe a little. I think I'm mostly just disappointed that you didn't tell us earlier."

"You're…you're not mad?"

Aang shook his head. "Not like the others are, anyway. The monks taught me that holding on to anger is like eating poison berries—it may taste good at first, but they'll end up killing you. Being angry with you doesn't solve anything, it just makes us all unhappy."

Mira gaped at him. "Um…thanks?"

He smiled at her. "You're still welcome to travel with us." His face clouded over. "I don't know about Zuko, but that's something we'll have to talk to him about."

Mira nodded, still feeling a little dumbstruck as Aang sidestepped past her and joined the others for lunch. A small bowl of broth was placed in his hands, which he sipped at as Sokka launched into the details of the previous weeks.

Mira wandered over to the side of the deck, where Zuko sat. Though his presence was slowly becoming more and more familiar, he still chose to distance himself from the others. Mira always joined him, because she was really the only one on the ship who trusted him implicitly (and she was sort of in the doghouse herself). They themselves didn't speak much, leading to a very quiet (and very lonely) series of days. Mira was itching to sit with the others (and would drag Zuko over if she had to), but even still she was apprehensive of doing so. Aang was a sweet kid, and while his words had done a lot in assuaging some of her guilt, she still didn't want to take her chances by barging over uninvited.

For a moment, Mira seemed to see herself from the outside. Hunched over her bowl, miserable expression on her face, skin pale and wan-looking…she wasn't an impressive sight. What had happened to the confident, devil-may-care girl who had fought and spoke with passion? Since when did her friends' opinions matter more than her own? Would she forever let herself be cowed like this, made to feel guilty for a decision she'd made to protect her own skin? A surge of defiance raced through her, and she sat up a little straighter. No, she would not. This contrite version of herself sickened her, and she was swamped with the sudden urge to reclaim at least part of her old identity. Mira would not have bowed to this pressure.

"I'm pathetic," she said darkly, setting down her bowl as her appetite faded. "I've been walking on eggshells for weeks and nothing's changed. I'm sick of it."

"Finally," Zuko muttered, staring down at his bowl. "I was beginning to wonder where you'd gone."

She elbowed him in the ribs. "Oh, shut up." He stiffened suddenly. "Oh, come on, I did not hit you that hard—"

"No," he said, cutting her off. "Look." He pointed to a gray ship in the distance—one that was unmistakably Fire Nation.

"We've got company," Mira said, standing up. The others had already noticed and were beginning to filter off the deck, leaving some of the older men to act as sailors and soldiers.

"I gave Hakoda and his men a few names to use, in case we were boarded," Zuko said. "They should clear us of any suspicion."

Mira nodded, but still pulled at his arm. "Quick; spar with me."

"What? Why?"

"It'll add credibility to the ship," Mira said, leading him over to her little practice area. "I know you told them what to say, but this can't hurt. No one'll suspect a spy ship of actually having firebenders on it."

He nodded and shucked off his cloak and outer tunic. They were on the opposite side of the ship then the boarding party would be, so the chances that Zuko would be recognized from that distance were slim. Mira discarded her outershirt, leaving her in a loose red tunic and burgundy pants she'd found in a storage closet deep in the bowels of the ship. The green Earth Kingdom clothes seemed to have disappeared, though Mira wasn't too fussed about finding them. It'd been too long since she'd worn Fire Nation red.

They bowed to each other, then shifted into firebending stances. Adrenaline pumped through Mira's veins, and it wasn't just from the presence of the other ship. This would be the first time facing Zuko since they'd parted ways, and for a reason Mira couldn't quite pinpoint, the fight felt symbolic.

A symbol of what exactly, she wasn't sure.

They circled each other, feinting forward occasionally to get an idea of each other's strengths and weaknesses. The last time they'd sparred was three years ago, and both fighting styles had changed since then. This was one area where they did not know each other as well, and they needed this initial stage to relearn how the other moved.

Zuko struck first, sending a flurry of punches her way. Streaks of flame leapt from his hands as Mira twirled to the right to escape them. She used her own momentum to lash out with one of the roundhouse kicks she'd been perfecting the day before. Zuko ducked and grabbed her ankle, knocking her off balance. He yanked hard, but Mira was prepared for that. Her other foot left the ground and she twisted fast in the air, landing steadily and pulling her foot back out of Zuko's grip.

He stumbled forward. Mira swung her arm and landed a hit on his back, knocking the breath from his body. He recovered quickly and turned to punch at her again, sending a wave of flame racing through the air.

Mira bent backwards at the knees to avoid it, until she was nearly lying flat against the deck. Before Zuko could press on his advantage, she rocked her body back and lashed out with both legs. Twin lines of flame arched through the air, and as Zuko dodged them, Mira landed neatly on her feet.

She lashed out at him again, but Zuko was quicker than she remembered. He caught her wrist and pulled her around, locking his other arm around her neck. "They bought it, they're gone," he said.

"Would—you—let—me—go," Mira hissed through clenched teeth.

Zuko pretended to consider it. "I don't know…"

Mira pushed at his arm with her free hand, but he was deceptively strong. "The headlock is completely unnecessary."

"Maybe not completely," Zuko said, a smirk in his voice.

Mira growled and stomped her foot down towards his. Zuko anticipated her move and sidestepped neatly, still keeping her head trapped in the crook of his arm. "Okay, fine! Uncle."

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Oh, he was enjoying this way too much.

"I'm not saying it again."

"Fine." And with that, he released her and stepped away, but that didn't stop Mira from lashing out. A half-hearted punch landed on his arm. "Hey! You yielded!"

"That was for the headlock," Mira scowled, crossing her arms.

Zuko shrugged. "I thought it was fun."

"Now I remember why I haven't been sparring with you."

"Yeah, because you knew I'd win."

"Okay, that is not fair! You've been training for three years; I haven't been bending at all. But mark my words," she said suddenly, pointing a finger at him, "it won't be too long before I'm kicking your ass again."

Zuko gave her a taunting smirk. "I look forward to it."

Mira huffed in annoyance and turned on her heel to stalk away. Despite her irritation, though, a small smile snuck onto her face. The headlock seemed to have done Zuko some good. Maybe, just maybe…she was stealing her way back into his good graces.

"Thank you for your help," Hakoda said as she approached. "I'm not sure they would have bought it if you hadn't been here."

"Happy to help," she said easily.

Slowly, the others began to emerge from their hiding places. Everyone seemed to be in good spirits as they stepped out onto the deck, save for Aang. Katara said something to him and he shook his head, brows drawn in a troubled expression. Moments later, he disappeared below deck, Katara following soon after.

"What's up with Aang?" Mira called out to Sokka.

"He's not exactly thrilled with the idea of the whole world thinking he's dead," Sokka answered, sighing.

Mira shrugged. "What's the big deal? Everyone back home thought I was dead and I turned out fine."

"Aang's not like you. Stuff like this bothers him." Sokka squinted at her. "You're looking awfully happy."

"Look, I told you guys the truth, explained why, and apologized. Forgiving me is your problem now; I'm tired of skulking around."

"Hm."

Toph bounded over, cloudy green eyes sparking with excitement. "Did you hear? We're docking tonight! After weeks on this stupid thing, I'll get to feel the ground beneath my toes!"

"Some shore leave would feel nice," Mira admitted.

"How about we all go out into town for dinner?" Sokka suggested. "Maybe it'll help Aang feel better."

Mira wasn't sure his problem could be fixed with a simple meal, but it certainly couldn't hurt. "I'm up for it."

Toph quickly agreed as well. Zuko started to open his mouth when Mira rounded on him. "If you even think about saying no I'll drag you from this ship kicking and screaming," she threatened.

"Fine," he said, looking none too happy with the arrangement. He slunk off, leaving Sokka and Toph staring at her.

"What?" she asked defensively.

"It's a little weird, how you can boss him around like that," Sokka said. "I mean, that's the guy who chased around half the world…and you're giving him orders."

"And he's listening," Toph cut in.

"He's not that scary once you get to know him."

"Yeah, I'll take your word for it."

---

Dinner was a mediocre affair. Zuko remained silent and sullen throughout the whole thing, leaving Mira to act as liaison between the two halves. As they walked back to the ship, she wondered tiredly how long it'd be exactly until both sides trusted the other.

Upon arriving at the ship, two little words set off quite the frenzy.

"What do you mean, Aang's missing?"

"I mean, he's not on the ship." Katara looked nearly out of her mind with worry. She'd been distracted all throughout the meal, and now that Aang was missing, there was no doubt that she'd be blaming herself for letting him stay on the ship alone.

"You know, I figured out as much myself. I meant, why is he missing?"

"I guess he didn't take the news of his supposed death as well as we thought." Sokka looked grim, a crease drawn between his normally light brow.

"Oh, you think?!"

"Zam, calm down." Zuko placed one hand on her shoulder, but she just shrugged it off.

"Don't tell me to calm down! He just woke up after spending three weeks comatose, and now he's missing? If he actually dies this time, I'll kill him myself!" Mira knew she wasn't making any sense, but couldn't find it in her to care.

"We'll find him," Katara said, more for herself than the others. "We've got to."

Of course, it didn't help matters that a huge storm was rolling in. If Aang had left by air (which, from the absence of his glider, he had), then he'd gotten away before it hit. But now…chances were, he was trapped in a boiling mess of wind currents and lightning.

They needed to find him, and fast.

"Hakoda!" Mira called to him from across the bridge. "Do you think you know where the wind will push him?"

Hakoda thought for a moment, then consulted a large map on the wall. He traced his finger over a few lines, then conferred with another Water Tribe sailor. When he turned back to them, there was a cautious hope on his face. "I think so," he said. "We're right between the Earth Kingdom and the Outer Fire Nation islands now," he tapped the map, "and the winds will be pushing towards the Fire Nation. If our luck holds, they'll remain constant and Aang will be driven ashore." His finger stayed on one spot of the map. "If I had to guess, I'd say he'd land here, at Crescent Island." He looked to the helmsman. "Adjust our course, if you would."

The helmsman nodded and heaved on the navigational wheel. As the ship slowly began to turn, the younger occupants of the room took their cue to filter out. Before Mira left, she turned to Katara and bent down to speak softly with her. "You should speak with your father."

Katara started. "What?" She scowled. "You've been listening."

"You haven't been very quiet," Mira countered.

"It's none of your business."

"No, maybe not," Mira said. "But, for what it's worth…you've got a loving and caring father. I'd suggest you hang onto that. Not all of us are so lucky."

Katara pulled back, a hint of guilt on her face, but Mira was already turning and walking away.

---

Another round of waiting began, though this one was not so kind. Anxiety over Aang was paired with queasy stomach and nervous worries about the storm, which sent the ship pitching and rolling. Zuko, as the one most accustomed to sea travel, remained steady and unaffected, while the others spent the journey in various states of unease.

Mira sat on her bed, hands braced on the cushion as the ship plunged into the waves. Zuko was in his customary position, silent and practically unmoving. Grateful that he'd decided to stay with her during the storm, Mira didn't want to risk making conversation and driving him from the room, so she kept quiet.

Needless to say, it was a long trip.

Mira nearly jumped out of her skin when the door to her room slammed open with a crash. Katara stood in the threshold, hair escaping her braid and a wide smile on her face. "He's alive! We found him!" She dashed away, leaving Mira to race after her.

A small cutter was hanging from the side of the ship, Toph and Sokka already inside. Katara climbed aboard and scooted to the side, leaving room for Mira to join her. As she settled down, she saw Zuko, still standing aboard the ship and looking more than a little awkward.

"Well, come on, then!" Mira reached out and tugged at his sleeve, but he resisted.

"I'm not…sure if I should," he said slowly.

It was Sokka provided the catalyst for Zuko. "You do know that if you stay here, you won't see us again until the invasion, right?"

Both Mira and Zuko started. "What?"

"Oh, did I forget to mention that?" Sokka asked, unabashed. "We thought it might be better if Aang wasn't cooped up on the ship until then. We'll rendezvous with the fleet for the invasion later."

Mira looked to Zuko. "You coming, then?" Her face may have been carefully crafted to reveal no emotion, but her heart thudded heavily against her ribs.

Zuko's hesitation only lasted a second. "Yes. I'm coming." He climbed in beside Mira, skillfully managing to avoid everyone's gaze.

The cutter was piloted by one of Hakoda's men, who would return it to the main ship after dropping them at Crescent Island. He was a skilled navigator, and it wasn't too long before the five of them were splashing through the shallow water towards a raggedy lump on the sand.

Katara ran ahead and threw her arms around Aang, who blinked groggily at her and mustered up a tired smile. Toph and Sokka joined in the hug, but once again, Mira and Zuko remained standing off to the side. As they broke away, Aang's smile faded and he grew serious. "I have so much to do."

"I know," Katara answered kindly, "but you'll have our help." She looked over her shoulder at Zuko. "From all of us."

Zuko tilted his head slightly in the affirmative. Mira nudged him. "This doesn't change what you said to me before, does it?"

He leaned closer to her. "No. But as I said, I am loyal to you. If you are loyal to him, then so am I. My direct loyalty may not come until later." If at all, his eyes seemed to add. Mira bit her lip and pulled back, trying to ignore the wriggling doubts in her mind. She trusted Zuko completely, and that trust would have to be enough.

A sharp crackle echoed in the morning air. Aang's glider stood wedged between a crack in the rock. Flames licked the sides and engulfed the fabric of the wings, until all that remained was a charred skeleton. Aang watched with regret, but determination shone through. He had accepted his temporary anonymity.

As she watched him, Mira could not help but feel the same. Her alias had been exposed and discarded, leaving behind…what? Mira was not sure she knew. She too, was anonymous, but with one keen difference…

Mira herself was left wondering who she was, and she could not help but feel that the answer would not come easily.

---

A/N: I suppose I should have named this chapter "Awkwardness" and left it at that…

This chapter turned out a little longer than I expected, but there were several conversations that needed to happen. I have also discovered that I love writing Mira/Zuko dialogue…

Please, leave a review before you leave. I love to read every single one! Even if you are content to favorite or subscribe, it would mean a lot to me. Just knowing that there are people who like this story and will come back for more makes me happy. Of course, reviews are also lovely, and I will never say no to one.

I have no excerpt for the next chapter, as not very much has been written so far. But I will leave you with this: a Fire Nation dance party would be quite the locale for one of Mira's skills, hmm?