Zuko awoke, shivering under his blanket on the dirt. The dark sky was beginning to lighten, far above the little clearing where he'd camped for the night. Hopefully the rising sun would take away some of this bitter cold.
His stomach rumbled, so he forced himself to his feet. He reached into his bag of supplies and searched for some food to eat for breakfast. It wasn't there.
"What?" he growled, grabbing the bag and dumping it out. Even giving it a few emphatic shakes at the end, nothing else came out.
Scattered before him in the dirt were a couple of changes of clothes, several coins, a few water pouches, the knife he'd used to cut his hair, and his blue spirit mask, but no food. Zuko stared in disbelief. Had he already eaten all of it? He thought he'd been rationing it out pretty well…
Numbly, Zuko repacked his bag, wondering what he was supposed to do now.
There was a town nearby, he knew. He could go there and buy food, of course, but he didn't like that idea. He absently reached up and touched the scar on the left side of his face, shaking his head.
All the towns in this area were occupied by the Fire Nation, and though his hair was growing surprisingly fast—he already had a fair amount of black stubble all over his head—he still had an unfortunately distinctive face. It would be a while before his hair grew enough that he could attempt to hide it.
He wasn't necessarily worried anyone would recognize him as the Fire Nation prince. Aside from the Fire Lord himself, the likenesses of the Fire Nation royal family were not well-known among commoners, especially not ones in the colonies. Plus, Zuko was traveling alone, dressed in plain clothes, without any kind of royal guard or entourage, and he had been banished for the past three years, so any official portrait of him would be outdated. But even with that, the scar meant people would remember his face. And that would make it easier for Iroh to find him, if he was looking for him—which Zuko was certain he was.
As he picked up the mask to put it back into the bag, another thought occurred to him. He could always steal food. Why else had he brought the mask, after all? Just as a keepsake?
But he shook his head. No, that was a last resort.
First, he'd try to hunt or fish, or maybe forage. He had never done any of those things in his life, but surely it couldn't be too hard, right?
As it turned out, it definitely was. Half a day later, Zuko had nothing to show for his efforts but a handful of berries that he thought were probably not poisonous. Not that he was confident enough in that conviction to risk actually eating them.
He'd wasted practically the entire day, made no forward progress toward the Fire Nation, and all he had were some questionable berries and sore limbs.
He was back in his little campsite, sitting on the ground rubbing his forearms and groaning. Maybe he could just go without. How important was food, really?
In answer, his stomach growled again. It had gotten louder and more painful as the day went on, and now it was nearly unbearable.
"So you don't like that idea," he muttered to it. "Fine, we'll just..." He turned to his bag of supplies. There, right at the top, lay his blue spirit mask, but he shook his head and dug past it, retrieving a handful of coins instead. He closed the bag tightly and stood up, shoving the coins in his pocket. "We'll go buy some food at the market."
He slung his pack over his shoulder and strode from the clearing.
Unfortunately, the market held different problems for him. The moment he walked into the main square of the nearby village, he was assaulted with a hundred different sensations. The sounds of shoppers haggling over prices, of merchants calling out to passersby, of friends talking amongst each other and children laughing as they ran between the stalls.
And the smells—Zuko's mouth started watering almost immediately. The smell of baking bread, of fresh fruit and pies and roasted meat and a hundred other delicious things.
It wasn't until he wandered over to a nearby food stall that he realized he had a problem.
Well, technically, there were several. First was the way other customers looked at him, their noses wrinkled in disgust. He'd expected stares, of course, because of the scar, but disgust? Why…?
He looked down at himself, and it dawned on him. After a week without a proper bath, he looked like a beggar. He'd put on new clothes this morning, but he'd only brought a handful of changes of clothes, so he'd already worn this outfit two other times this week, and his haphazard attempts at washing it in a nearby river had only made it look worse. Plus, the skin of his arms and probably his face were covered in dirt after hours spent trying to find food out in the wild this morning.
He probably would have looked at himself with disgust, too, but there wasn't a lot he could do about it now, so he just did his best to ignore their looks. Maybe his homeless appearance would make them gloss over the scar.
He realized the second problem when he stepped up to buy some food. He selected a collection of fruits and vegetables, and then dug in his pocket and offered a few coins to the man.
The man's eyes got huge, and he reached out a little too fast to snatch the coins. "Three gold pieces," he said in wonder, tapping them as if to make sure they were real. Then he looked up at Zuko. "How else can I help you, uh…Your Majesty?"
Zuko's face warmed. "I… Thank you, I don't need anything else."
He stepped away from the stall. As he hurried away, he saw nearby customers staring at him, not with disgust this time, but with confusion and a little awe. He cursed himself internally. Now he didn't just look like a beggar. He looked like a beggar who was somehow in possession of way too much money.
If his goal had been to avoid notice as much as possible, he had utterly failed.
It was evident that he'd paid far, far too much for this food. But…well, he had no concept of how much goods were supposed to cost. Growing up at the palace, food and clothing and basically everything else he needed or wanted had just kind of...appeared. He hadn't even realized they were things most people needed to buy for themselves until he was nine years old.
Since his banishment, he'd had to deal with money a little more often, but he still usually left it up to his crew or his uncle to do the haggling. Now that lack of financial awareness was biting him back.
Well, at least he could leave now. He'd intended to buy bread too, and maybe some meat, but now he figured it would be better to not embarrass himself any further and just try again later, at a different village. The food he had now would last him a while if he was careful with portioning it out.
He began to make his way out of the market, avoiding the stares of the other market goers. Hopefully none of them would follow him and try to rob him.
But as he continued walking, he noticed that the crowds in this part of the market were strangely thin, and the people who passed him by wore pale and terrified faces, all of them walking in the opposite direction of where Zuko was going.
He frowned, but continued on—until he smelled the smoke. He slowed his walk, carefully approaching the nearby corner and looking around.
The street was completely abandoned in this area, the lively market sounds gone. Instead, Zuko saw a street merchant's cart with three Fire Nation soldiers standing just outside of it. One of them was holding the merchant—an older Earth Kingdom man with a mostly bald head and a patchy gray beard—by the collar of his tunic, her other hand holding a flame dangerously close to the merchant's face. Zuko's scar ached in response.
"This is the third time this year you've been short on your rent payment," the soldier holding the man—her uniform marked her as an officer—said. "I'm afraid we can't allow you to continue doing business here."
"Please, ma'am!" The Earth Kingdom man was crying. "I swear I've paid all my rent in full. I—I can even get documents for you, to—to prove it."
I should go, Zuko thought. This is none of my business. But something held him there, almost against his will.
"I don't care about your documents," the woman said, dropping him. "Besides, the rent just doubled. So where's it at? I might consider letting you off the hook if you hand it all over right now."
"N—now?" the merchant stammered. "I don't have—I don't keep all my money with me at my cart."
"What a shame," one of the other soldiers said. "You know the law. No rent, no selling in the market."
"The clothes he's selling are trash anyway," the third soldier said, picking up a scarf that Zuko thought was beautiful, actually, made of blue wool and embroidered with white roses. As he watched, though, the soldier lit the scarf on fire with a casual flick of a finger.
The merchant gasped, rushing forward, but the officer grabbed him. "My wife spent weeks on that, sir—please."
"You know, Ake," the officer said, "I think you've got the right idea. The whole lot's worthless." She raised her hand, clearly about to shoot a fire blast at the cart.
Zuko acted without thinking. In a flash, he'd closed the distance between him and the group and grabbed hold of the woman's wrist, stopping her before she could shoot.
"How about you leave the man alone?" he said.
"Who do you think you are, wretch?" the officer demanded, ripping her hand free and spinning on him. "This is private city business!"
"If this is how your city does its 'business,' then I'd hate to see what the criminals look like," Zuko said.
She glared at him, then made a curt gesture with her chin at the other two soldiers. They nodded and promptly set the merchant's cart ablaze.
The merchant wailed, but Zuko jumped into action, drawing his dual blades and attacking the two soldiers with such ferocity that they were forced to stumble backward, eyes wide. Apparently, they hadn't expected him to be able to actually use the swords he had at his waist.
Their mistake, clearly. The fight was over quickly, the soldiers running back to their officer to lick their wounds.
"This isn't over," the officer said, retreating with her men.
Zuko turned and frantically began trying to put the fire out. When that didn't seem to work, he started pulling all the merchandise that was either undamaged or salvageable off the cart, throwing them on the ground and stamping out any flames. The merchant, who had been standing there, frozen in horror, came to his senses and rushed over to help.
All the while, Zuko was reeling. Was this how his people treated the Earth Kingdom citizens they conquered? Like nothing more than common bullies? How could his people—the ones that he'd always been told were so great—be so needlessly cruel?
Zuko thought about all the things he'd done in the name of the Fire Nation during his search for the Avatar. He'd lied, tricked, threatened, belittled…. Was he any better than these soldiers?
Each time, he'd told himself it was necessary for his search. But… if the truth was that the Avatar had never needed to be found, because he had been right there the entire time… then none of that was necessary. It was all just...just needless bullying. Like these soldiers.
Just like, Zuko was beginning to realize with dawning horror, his entire country.
"Thank you, sir," the merchant said when they had saved all they could, his eyes filling with tears. "How can I ever repay you?"
"You don't need to repay me," Zuko said tiredly. He began gathering up the things they'd saved—since they'd acted so fast, they'd managed to get about a third of the wares off of the cart before a single flame had touched them, and another fourth or so were in decent enough condition that with a little mending they could probably still be sold. The rest was little more than ash now, and of course the cart itself was heavily damaged. But it was better than if they'd saved nothing at all.
"Where's your house?" Zuko asked. "I'll help you carry this back."
"It's okay," the merchant said. "I can take the cart. The wheels still work, after all."
But as soon as he began to place things back on the cart, it completely fell apart, crumbling to become nothing but a pile of charred wood on the ground.
The merchant, undeterred, gathered up the rest of the things, then nodded to Zuko and led the way. As they walked, the merchant chattered at him, thanking him profusely for his help, and then telling Zuko his name—Hano—and his wife's name—Kyin—and talking about their business, and their children who were all grown now, and on and on.
Luckily, Hano didn't seem to care much if Zuko responded in a meaningful way, so he could half-listen to what the man was saying and grunt at appropriate intervals.
After about ten minutes of walking, though, Zuko caught the words "Fire Nation," and he started.
"Sorry, what was that?" he asked. Hano looked at him, surprised, but amiably answered the question.
"I was saying, ever since the Fire Nation came in here, business has gotten much worse. We used to do pretty well for ourselves, but they shove most of the Earth Kingdom sellers out onto the side streets of the market, charge unbelievable prices for rent, and no one goes so far away from the central square. Most months, we barely make enough to pay the rent, much less turn a profit. Plus, there're things like...well, like that back there. We've got different groups of soldiers rotating in and out all the time as they're sent back and forth to the frontline, but they're all the same."
Well, that shattered the hope that maybe that particular group of soldiers was just terrible and the rest of the Fire Nation military wasn't like that.
"So...you've gotten your cart burned often?"
"No, that was the first time for me, but I've seen it happen to plenty of my friends. Most of the time, they don't have a chance to save anything, and then they go out of business and have to move away. Speaking of, have I mentioned how grateful I am that you showed up? Without you, I'd have lost everything. You really must let me repay you somehow."
Zuko just grunted.
"Luckily," Hano said after a little pause, his voice dropping conspiratorially, "we might not have to deal with these ruffians much longer."
"Oh?"
"Haven't you heard the news? The Avatar has returned!"
Zuko flinched so hard that he nearly dropped his armful of fabric, but he tried his best not to let panic show on his face. "Excuse me?"
"Oh, you haven't heard! Yeah, all the soldiers have been on edge recently. Rumor has it that yesterday, a strange young boy showed up in the market a few towns over. Nobody had ever seen him before, and people saw him airbending, right there in the market square! No one else but the Avatar could know how to do that these days."
Zuko relaxed a little, glad he hadn't been found out, but then he started thinking. A boy, seen airbending in the middle of town? That had to be Aang. And a few towns over… He was definitely looking for Zuko. Presumably that Water Tribe girl—what was her name, Katara?—and her brother were with him, and maybe Uncle Iroh, too?
"Really?" Zuko tried to give off casual interest. "How far away?"
"Oh, you know, three, four days' journey on foot, about? I've never been that far, but word travels fast in the Fire Nation military."
"Hmm..." So they were behind him, but not that far behind. Not when they had a flying bison, and he was on foot. And he had just revealed himself in this town twice over, once with the flub in the market and once by helping this man. That made him nervous.
Hano began chattering again about inane subjects, and Zuko returned to his routine of intermittent grunts to make it seem like he was listening.
Finally, they arrived at Hano's house. It was very small and a little run-down looking, out on the edge of town. All around it was a lot of land, though, on which several animals, including wooly pigs, roamed—presumably the ones that gave the wool which made up most of Hano's merchandise.
When Hano's wife Kyin opened the door, she seemed to understand immediately what had happened.
"How did you manage to save so much of it?" she gasped. "Wool burns so quickly—I was certain if it ever happened, we'd lose practically everything."
"This young man right here stopped the soldiers before they could burn it all, and he helped me get as much as we could off the cart before it was too late. He's a hero, Kyin."
Zuko grimaced. Kyin looked at him appraisingly as she let them in. They dumped their cargo onto a nearby table.
Kyin looked to be a little younger than Hano, though not by much. Her brown skin was less wrinkled than his, and her dark brown hair was graying, but not yet completely gray. She wore it tied up into a typical Earth Kingdom style bun. Her clothing was simple but elegant, which didn't seem to match the cramped and run-down house she lived in.
But then, Hano had said that they used to make good money with their business. Perhaps she was used to living in nicer accommodations.
"Does this young man have a name?" Kyin asked, looking between her husband and Zuko.
Internally, Zuko panicked, while Hano comically slapped his forehead. "I'm so sorry, kid—I can't believe I forgot to ask your name, by the spirits!"
"It's fine," Zuko said quickly. Looking at Kyin, he said, "My name is Lee." It was the first name that came to his mind. An extremely common name in the Fire Nation, but generic enough that he hoped it was pretty common in the Earth Kingdom too.
Kyin seemed to find nothing out of the ordinary about this name, thankfully. "Well, Lee," she said. "I don't think you realize just how much you saved us today."
Zuko shifted awkwardly. "It was nothing, really. I just…"
"He saved my life and my livelihood, is what he did," Hano said. "And the crazy kid is trying to insist that I don't repay him. Can you believe that, Kyin?"
Kyin pursed her lips, looking Zuko up and down. "How about you eat dinner with us tonight, Lee?" she suggested. "And stay the night too. You look like you could use a bed and a warm bath. Tomorrow, we'll give you some rations for your journey."
Zuko shouldered his pack. "I really should be moving on. I—"
"It's the least we can do," Kyin said. "Please."
Zuko hesitated for a long moment, wanting to say no—but then his stomach growled, reminding him, painfully, that he had still yet to eat anything today. To be able to take a real bath, and sleep in a bed, and eat a proper meal…. It sounded like heaven.
And so, despite himself, he nodded.
Kyin's face lit up. "Wonderful!" She turned to her husband. "Now, Hano, can you please take these things and put them away? I need to set the table."
Several hours later, Zuko felt almost like a person again, with a full stomach and clean clothes (Kyin had even offered to wash the others for him), lying in a bed with an actual mattress. It wasn't as nice as the bed he'd had at the palace, of course, but it was pretty close to the one he'd slept in for the past three years on his ship.
Thinking of his ship, though, made his good mood start to sour. Because from the ship, his thoughts quickly passed to his uncle. What was he doing right now? Was he worried? Was he angry? Probably both.
Zuko rolled onto his side, forcing those thoughts out of his mind. If he let himself think of his uncle for too long, he'd lose his nerve and turn back, and he couldn't do that.
Of course, even without thoughts of Uncle, the events of the day and the last several weeks were making him rethink his conviction. He thought of Aang, near to tears over having found another airbender, because the Fire Nation had wiped his entire people out. He thought of Kyin, at dinner just a few hours ago, the way she'd talked about her and Hano's youngest son, an earthbender who had been taken away with all the other benders when the Fire Nation arrived in the village, never to be seen again. He thought of himself, the way he'd treated so many people like trash during his search for the Avatar, using them and then discarding them. Even his crew and his uncle had been, in many ways, nothing but a means to an end for him. He thought of the Southern Water Tribe, and remembered the terrified faces he'd seen there, the way the tribe had seemed so small, and the look on the girl Katara's face when he had bent the air.
The Avatar was supposed to be the only person who could bring balance to the world. The Avatar. Him.
How would he bring balance by turning himself in to the Fire Nation to either be killed or locked in a jail cell for the rest of his life?
It doesn't matter, Zuko thought. It's the only way for me to redeem myself.
He kept telling himself that, but the more he did, the more hollow and selfish it felt. For the first time, his faith in his father and his country was shaking.
Zuko shoved all those thoughts away. He couldn't afford to doubt. He had made his decision, and he would stick with it.
It was with that sentiment in his mind that he finally drifted off to sleep.
