He was tired. So incredibly tired. He was tired of walking. Of not knowing where dinner will come from next. Of the stares of villagers when they see his face. Of the constant threat of discovery. Of the destruction he sees everywhere they go. Of having to hide when Fire Nation troops ride by, because they are the only ones who remember what he looks like and who he is. Of the name "Li" being used to address him. But he was not tired of slipping on his blue mask in the dead of night and stealing away while his Uncle snores. Crown Prince Zuko is not tired of striking back.
But he's not the Crown Prince anymore, he thinks as he lands on the rooftop of a merchant's shop. He pauses, but shakes loose from the thought, continuing his sprint across the rooftops of the village. He's not Prince Zuko anymore. He's not even Zuko anymore. And he hasn't been for the seven years since the Avatar fell to his sister. As far as anyone needs to know, his name is Lee, his Uncle is Mushi, and they are refugees from the far reaches of the Earth Kingdom where Fire Benders occasionally marry Earth Benders and that's why he has golden eyes and by the way it's rude to ask.
He came to a stop on the roof of what seemed to be a perfume shop, judging by the smell. He wrinkled his nose behind the mask, panting just a little harder than he would have liked. The Blue Spirit had been seen in many of the Fire Nation occupied colonies in the former Earth Kingdom, but not so often recently. Word had spread, and soldiers were on the lookout for him now. He had to be more careful. But here, on the outskirts of any real civilization and near the border of the great southern forests, where the Fire Nation's grasp was still shaky, he felt safe enough to resume his midnight treks.
His Uncle understood, but only to a point. He understood Zuko's need to do something. His need for action, for movement. He even understood his desire to do something, anything rather than sit still and watch the world be destroyed by his family. By his home. Iroh felt the same way. But he could not understand why his nephew felt the need to wear a mask and use his swords in pursuit of his needs. Zuko could not understand why his Uncle was content to travel simply as a refugee and merely observe the wrongs of the Fire Nation instead of taking action.
He was at peace with giving up his birthright on the Day of Black Sun. He was at peace with his Father's abhorrence. He was at peace with his sister's animosity. But he was not at peace with the idea that they were destroying the world by bringing all nations under their control. And any action he could take brought him peace. If only for that night.
As he had expected, this town was mostly clear of the Fire Nation. The Mayor, or whatever his title, was from the Fire Nation but was a decent person. From his earlier foray into the town, he had learned that the Mayor had neglected to report the town's Earth Benders as was required. He had also somehow turned a blind eye to the literally underground black market that sold water and earth bending scrolls, Water Tribe trinkets, and other outlawed items. He had even seen several Fire Nation soldiers purchasing several jars of ocean kumquats. This town did not need liberation from the Blue Spirit. And it soothed his soul. But only for tonight.
He returned to the Inn his Uncle had found earlier. It was small, comprising only of six rooms. The name, "Night's Watch Lodge", had made him smirk. He liked it. He also recognized that it was a subtle slap at the Fire Nation: Lodge was a word associated with the Water Tribes. Tribes that hadn't officially existed in five years. Zhao's mission had been a success. Every surviving member of the Southern Water Tribe had been brought to the Fire Nation on a pitiful three ships and promptly imprisoned. Women and men were separated, then separated again by benders and non-benders.
The non-benders had been released into the Fire Nation capital where they could be kept careful track of. Numerous sanctions kept them in check, including weekly check-ins, identifying armbands, and assigned jobs. Violators were brutally hunted down. The hands of the Water Benders were precisely mutilated that removed their ability to bend. They too were released into the capital, but their check-ins were daily and their lives were much more constrained. It was a brutal solution, but Zuko had not been surprised. His father was a vicious man.
The Fire Lord had used Sozin's comet to decimate the Earth Kingdom. Ba Sing Se and Omashu had been burned to the ground and stood as massive piles of rubble and rock. Zhao had been established as the Regent of what used to be Ba Sing Se, now known as the City of Azulan, in honor of Fire Lord Azula. While pockets of resistance remained, and proved an endless thorn in Zhao's side, the majority of the world was now controlled by the Fire Nation. Ozai had taken the title of Phoenix King, and had abdicated the throne to Azula on the day of Sozin's Comet. An enormous festival was held in each major city of the world on the anniversary of that day, the day the world burned. A smaller festival also took place on the anniversary of the day Avatar Aang died: the Day of Victory, as it was called in the Fire Nation.
Zuko could sense that the festival of the Day of Victory was approaching. Banners and fire lilies bedecked the exterior of the Night's Watch Lodge, depicting scenes of that far gone day. It sent a chill through Zuko's spine. He remembered watching from above as the Avatar was struck down by Azula, watching as they had captured or killed the rest of the gang. How several months later he had begun hearing rumors of his father's obsessive quest to find the last water bender. He knew it was Katara. He just knew.
Zuko strode into the Night's Watch Lodge, his eyes crinkling slightly at the small blue flowers woven amongst the fire lilies.
"Zuko! Zuko!" His deep amber eyes snapped open immediately. His Uncle must be very upset to not use his cover name. "Prince Zuko, wake up!" Now he knew something was wrong. Iroh hadn't called him 'Prince' in years.
"What, Uncle?" But he knew. He knew as he smelled the smoke, heard the vague rustling, crackling noise. Heard the screams. "When?"
"The fires just started." Iroh was throwing their meager belongings into their packs. He tossed Zuko's to him and motioned to the door. "We need to get moving."
Zuko nodded tersely and strapped his swords on under his pack. They bolted down the stairs and out into the chaotic, blackened streets of the village. Ash rained from above them, flames leaping brightly against the cloudy, grey sky. A mass of fire benders marched down the street, shooting flames into doorways and through windows. Their boots made uniform beats against the cobblestones, a thunder in Zuko's ears. He knew he was presumed dead to most of the world, but the citizens of the Fire Nation all knew his face, his scar. He pulled his hood over his head and tucked the cowl lower.
"Lee!" He was well accustomed to his new name, and turned instantly at his Uncle's cry. "Come here!"
He sprinted to where his Uncle had grasped a burning beam, disregarding the flames, and lifted it as he approached. Zuko darted under it and pulled out the screaming children from the home barred by the beam. Tucking one under each arm he darted back out, dodging falling cinders. Iroh let the beam fall behind him and turned to shepherd several other villagers ahead of him.
"Head for the woods!" Iroh's voice was strained; he knew the risks more than Zuko did. Nothing but interrogation and imprisonment awaited him if he were caught. Zuko trotted ahead of the villagers, eyes roving for deer paths and trails they could follow deeper into the woods. The villagers followed, ushering the villagers ahead of him.
"I know where we can go." A voice behind Zuko piped. He turned to see a scrawny kid, around fifteen, wearing a helmet and breastplate. He frowned at him, the kid almost looked familiar. "Follow me." He took off through the woods, following a trail only he could see. Zuko followed on his heels, holding one kid against his shoulder as he cradled the other wailing one in his arm. The patter of footsteps behind him increased, and he looked back to see almost fifty villagers following him, his Uncle bringing up the rear.
The kid led them on a zig-zag path through the increasingly dense forest, turning at boulders, doubling back at streams. Zuko knew he'd never find his way out on his own, and hoped that meant the soldiers couldn't keep up. Abruptly, the trees thinned and emptied out to form a large sloping clearing. Zuko slowed as shouts rang out ahead of him. People in forest browns and greens ran towards them, waving their arms for reinforcements. Zuko skidded to a stop, the following villager almost running into his back.
His eyes darted through the trees, noting sentries perched on high branches. They were armed with bows and arrows, raising them as the village poured into the clearing and aiming behind them into the woods. He clutched the child in his arms tighter as several men ran up to them, more following behind. A large bald man with a bushy beard stopped in front of him, while the rest trotted to assist the villagers.
"What happened?" His voice was low and booming, filled with concern. "How many?"
"I don't know." Zuko's own voice was raspy from running. "We were just passing through."
Then man looked him up and down, taking in the children in his arms, the swords on his back, and the scar on his face. He gave Zuko a long, measured look and nodded sharply. "Go with the Duke. He'll see that the kids find their parents."
Zuko nodded. The Duke, standing a little ways off, motioned him forward with a wave of his hand. Zuko shifted the children and followed, eyes and ears alert for signs of treachery or pursuit. The boy on his shoulder gripped one of the hilts of his swords, running his hand up and down it absently. The Duke lead them deeper into the clearing to a smattering of enormous trees.
"These are ironwoods." The Duke said, his voice squeaking. "They're the only trees strong enough to support us."
"Support you how?" Zuko asked. The children were starting to feel heavier.
The Duke pointed. Up. Zuko craned his neck back. High above him, platforms ringing the trees grew into elaborate houses with multiple stories, soaring into the treetops. Rope bridges connected the platforms with zip lines just above them. Stocky wooden blocks led up the tree trunks for the more daring to climb up, while rope elevators hung at the ready for the rest. Benches, fire pits, and tents littered the ground under the elevated homes, swarming with people. Women gathered around the fires, stirring pots or roasting meat as the men strode towards the approaching villagers. Children laughed and ran, some with sticks in their hands as swords, others with baskets full of nuts and berries they had gathered from the woods. Zuko could see that many of them were barefoot but looked healthy and well fed. The forests were vast and dense. It would be…difficult for the Fire Nation to find them without a guide.
The Duke looked him over. "If you're hungry, stew should be done soon."
"Thanks." Zuko said. "I'm alright." The boy makes a small noise, indicating the opposite. "Erm…where can I get some of that?"
The Duke smiled, creasing his face in half. "I'll bring you some. Just stay here." He paced off towards one of the fires.
Zuko sighed. He turned and walked over to a large tree, settling the boy and his sister on the leave-strewn ground. The grass grew long around the base, reaching up to their shoulders. He turned to walk away, but a small hand reached out to clasp his pant leg. He looked around to see a small face looking up at him, tears leaking out of her eyes. He backed up and sat between them, his legs sticking out in front of him. The girl curled up against his side, her blonde hair standing out against his black tunic, her small fist curled into its fabric. Her brother leaned against his shoulder, eyes closed. Zuko reclined against the tree trunk, closing his own eyes. Now what?
When his eyes opened again, the sun was low in the sky. The boy and girl were still curled around his sides, his arms draped over their thin shoulders.
"Are they your kids?" His head snapped up, hands tightening instinctively around the sleeping children. A pair of large golden eyes stared back into his, studying him. They shone out of a tanned face, too tan for a child of the Earth or Fire Nation. Dark black hair tumbled over thin shoulders, barely kept in check by a thick braid. A girl was crouched between his knees, bent forward to inspect his face. "How'd you get that scar? What's your name?" He blinked at her. She couldn't have been more than six years old, dressed in a green tunic and pants, dirt stains on her knees. Fingerless gloves on her hands flexed with her excitement. "Are you my father?"
"What?" Zuko spluttered, wiggling to sit upright. "Who are you?"
"You are! You are my father!" the girl actually bounced with excitement. Zuko stared at her in horror. He most certainly was not. he opened his mouth for a biting denial.
"Kaya? What are you doing?" A voice that echoed briefly into his memory called. He looked up to see a young woman, not older than himself approaching, a wry look on her face. She wasn't tall but she was thin. Her thick brown hair curled to her shoulders in waves and bounces, restrained by a blue kerchief. Her clothes were simple, a tunic and loose pants that ended in high leather boots, all in the forestry brown and green that seemed popular here. Like the girl sitting in front of him, her skin was a rich nut-brown. But her eyes…her eyes were sapphire blue. The blue of the Water Tribes. Zuko gulped. "Kaya, are you bothering them?" She bent down to place a hand on the girl's shoulder, smiling. "I'm sorry-" she looked into Zuko's face and froze, her eyes widening and smile fading. Zuko stared back at her. Seven years had changed her face. Her cheekbones were more defined, removing traces of the girlish roundness he remembered. The hair loopies were gone, as was the necklace he had once withheld from her. A thin scar ran down the side of her face, dipping into her top lip. It was old, healed completely. His eyes slid from her face down her arm to where her hands gripped the girl's shoulders. His heart skipped a beat. Her hands were twisted and scarred, discolored from whatever had burned them. He winced inwardly at the sight. His element had hurt her. Again.
"What are you doing here?" Her voice was low, trembling slightly. Her hands clasped the girl's, Kaya's, shoulders tighter, pulling her away from him slightly. "How…" she trailed off, searching his face. Zuko stiffened under her scrutiny. He knew what she would see: scar, thin cheeks, long black messy hair that just touched his shoulders, days' worth of stubble across his chin and cheeks. Fire Nation eyes. Enemy eyes. "…did you…" she seemed unable to continue, shock claiming her speech.
"Mom?" Zuko flinched. 'Mom'? His eyes flicked between them. The resemblance was clear. A brief hint of pink tinged Katara's cheeks. She loosened her grip on her daughter's shoulders and breathed out slowly, her posture stiffening, as if daring him to comment. "Mom, are you okay?"
"Yes, Kaya." Katara breathed. "I'm fine."
"Okay. Mom! Guess what? This is my dad!" she beamed at him.
It was Zuko's turn to flush pink as Katara's head whipped over to look at her daughter incredulously. He ducked his head, using the movement to check on the children sleeping beside him. The girl's thumb had crept into her mouth and she sucked it softly.
"Where did you get that idea?" Katara gasped out. Her body was so tense; Zuko was afraid she would strike him or scream or freeze the blood in his veins.
"His eyes are the same as mine." Kaya pointed at his face and he frowned. "No one else here has my eyes!"
"Kaya, many people here do." Katara yanked her pointing arm down. "This…man is not your father." Her eyes darted back to Zuko, who stared back at her. He felt the best course of action here was to remain silent. "Go along and play, and wash your hands before you eat." Zuko's lips turned up in a half smile. That was the water bender he remembered, the mother of the Avatar's group. Kaya shot him one last beaming smile before rushing off into the foliage.
Katara moved herself forward, taking her daughter's spot. Her glance darted to the children sleeping on either side of him and back to his face. Her gaze turned into a glare and she braced one fist against the trunk beside his head, leaning in close to him.
"Did your father send you?" Her voice was low, almost a whisper but more venomous. Her eyes flicked between his, searching. He thought he saw a hint of desperation in their blue depths, but it was soon replaced by steel. "Did he send you to capture me?"
"No." Zuko breathed, looking sideways, unable to meet her eyes. Inside he was questioning: his father? "I'm here with my Uncle." She released a breath but didn't back down. "Katara-"
"No." she whispered, spitting the word at him. "Not Katara. My name is Chizu." She glared at him, as if daring him to question it.
"Chizu." He rolled the name off his tongue. "That's…nice."
She just kept glaring at him, the fist by his head twitching. But, he realized, not because she wanted it to. He could read the pain on her face. Slowly she lowered it, rubbing it gently with her other hand.
"What are you doing here, Zuko?" She said, flicking her eyes to the sleeping kids. "Are those…?"
"No." He denied hastily. "They were in the village. And it's Lee…my Uncle Mushi and I have been travelling for…a long time." He raised his eyes to hers, begging her the same request she had just given him. Please don't say anything, Katara.
She snorted softly, looking down at her hands. "Looks like we have something in common now." She looked back up at him, but her eyes weren't friendly. "We're both different people than we were."
He nodded. "Katara-"
"Chizu."
"Chizu, what-" But the girl sleeping on his arm woke crying and screaming. Zuko looked down in her in alarm. Her brother stirred and clambered across his lap to comfort her. Katara climbed over Zuko's leg to sit on the other side of the children, drawing the girl into her lap.
"Shhhh." She said, rocking the girl on her lap. "What's your name, sweetie?" Zuko looked on, feeling suddenly cold and useless.
"Amaru." The little girl whimpered, passing a fisted hand across her eyes.
"Amaru, do you know where your parents are?" Katara's voice was pitched low, comforting.
"No." Amaru whined. "They were in the house before, before he pulled us out." She reached for Zuko, letting out a long wail. With a look of surprise, Katara handed her back to Zuko, who awkwardly accepted her, wrapping his arms around her. Using the smallest amount of fire bending, he heated his arms slightly to give extra warmth to the embrace.
"Something I thought I'd never see." Katara muttered. Zuko shot her a mild glare. She shrugged. Zuko mimicked her rocking motion, and the girl soon quieted. "Have you fed them?" Zuko shook his head in the negative. "That might be your next step." She stood, reaching for the little boy's hand. "C'mon. We'll get you guys settled." Her voice was kind for the children, but the look she shot Zuko over her shoulder was full of unanswered questions and mistrust. "You can come too, Lee."
Zuko stood, Amaru whimpering softly in his arms. He hoped she had family he could give her too, an aunt or uncle or something. Cradling her head against his shoulder, former Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation followed Katara of the Southern Water Tribe towards a fire pit where stew bubbled hot and thick as the sky darkened above the lighted treetops.