Aftermath

A wave of exhaustion suddenly swept Zuko and the boy swayed on his feet. Pain flared in his ribs and he grimaced, but a pair of strong hands steadied him. "You're okay, there, little one," a gentle voice said, and Zuko glanced up—it was the kind, round master who announced the boys.

"My name's Kanko," he said. "Can you walk?" Zuko managed a nod. But when he took a few steps his knees buckled, and the master caught his fall.

The crowd was a flurry of noise as they tried to make sense of what they'd just witnessed. Through the rabble, Zuko could make out the sound hurried footsteps. He looked up—Peti was sprinting towards him.

"Is he okay?!"

"Broken rib," Kanko mused. "We must get him to the healing rooms."

Peti leaned down and hooked Zuko's arm around his shoulders, hoisting him up and helping him from the arena. Kanko wasn't far behind. Too exhausted to protest, Zuko let himself by lulled by the rock of Peti's gait. The roar of the crowd faded and the sky was replaced by ice. He looked at his surroundings: he was in one of the tunnels that led beneath the stadium.

Zuko shivered. "Thank you."

Peti didn't reply. He merely led him into a side room lined with pots of melted water. Peti gingerly set him down on a bed of furs, and Kanko motioned for them both to stay. "I'll be right back," he assured, and brushed out the fur-draped door.

Zuko winced as he clutched his ribs, breath still uneven. Peti gave him an exhausted, worried look. His forehead was bleeding.

"Are you okay?" Zuko asked.

His cousin lifted a brow. "Am I okay?"

Kanko returned before Zuko could reply, a white-haired woman at his side. "Oh, you poor dear," she said sadly. Peti moved out of the way. She placed a hand on Zuko's shoulder and looked him over. "I'm so sorry."

"Pakku hit him hard in the chest. He's not breathing correctly," Peti noted.

"It is very laboured," the white-haired woman agreed.

"What was Pakku thinking?!" Kanko snapped. "He's just a boy, Yagoda—too young for a duel!"

Yagoda nodded and drew the water from the nearest basin, hovering it over Zuko's struggling chest. A sapphire glow filled the room, and the pain instantly subsided. His breathing evened out and Zuko relaxed back into the furs. He could stand to have her around for longer.

"More shock than damage," she surmised, letting the water flow gently beneath her hands. "You'll have a lot of bruising, young man. Not much I can do for that."

She retracted the water from his chest and let it sink once more into the basin. "There," she smiled. "All done."

Zuko had to admit he felt better, breathing now smooth and calm. "Thank you," he said, and Yagoda smiled.

"You're a very brave young man to stand up to Pakku like that," she commented. Zuko had to admit that didn't feel very brave.

At that moment, Zuko's parents burst in. His mother was in tears. "Zuko!" she cried, burying him in a great bear hug. "Oh, thank the spirits you're alright!"

Zuko froze as she buried him in her arms. She wasn't angry? His eyes found his father as Kanko and Yagoda politely shuffled from the room. His father looked grave, the same fear Zuko had seen all those years ago.

They'll take you away, and it'll destroy me, and your mother.

Zuko's stomach suddenly knotted with fear.

"Talk to me, Zuko," his mother pleaded, pulling back, grey eyes shining. "How are you feeling? Are you hurt?"

Zuko trembled, feeling very fragile. "Will they take me away?"

His mother shot his father a fearful look. His father shook his head and joined them, hand finding Zuko's shoulder. "I won't let them," he promised resolutely. "We'll get through this, together." Zuko believed him.

Someone brushed in through the doorway, and Zuko gasped. Pakku! His parents whipped to see the old waterbending master smiling one of those smug, satisfied smiles.

"You'll leave right now if you know what's good for you," his father warned.

"Not a very promising start," Pakku mused, clicking his tongue. "After all, I have just offered your son the opportunity of a lifetime."

"How dare play this off like some sort of joke! Do you realise what you have done?!"

"Do you?" Pakku returned cooly.

"You've ruined our family for the sake of your—your pride! For a cheap laugh at our expense!"

"I assure you, I am not laughing," Pakku replied.

His father suddenly lunged, but was held back at the last minute by his mother. She drew her husband aside and glared venomously at Pakku. "Not a step closer," she warned.

"Know your place, woman!" Pakku hissed.

"You had no right to do this to my son," she glared. "You had no right to condemn him to the life we've tried so hard to defend him from. Those people out there, our tribe—what do you think they'll do to him now?!"

Pakku rolled his eyes. "If you'll just let me explain—"

"There's nothing to explain," his mother shot back. "If you come near our son again, I can't promise to hold back."

Zuko gaped at his mother. He had never seen his parents like this—not ever. His parents, who took extra coins with them wherever they walked to give to the poor, who paid their servants more generously than any other noblemen in the tribe. Zuko looked at the floor, his eyes and throat burning. His mother was right. He was a criminal now. The Firebender.

"What I did was for his own good," Pakku said sourly. "It's no longer a festering secret that will grow. Everyone knows, and he's only a boy. It's hard to take out your anger on a child."

"Some people find a way," his father growled bitterly.

"But they can learn to accept him in time," Pakku argued, "as he grows older, stronger. Now, we have a chance to mould him to our needs! With your son on our side, he could become the greatest weapon we have in the war! You saw what he did, and that was only secondhand training from a waterbender! Imagine how powerful he'll be when I train him! Think of the possibilities!" Pakku stood back, crossing his arms. "And I have to say, you didn't make it easy for me, either," he added indignantly.

"That was not your call to make," his mother snapped. "It was not your right to out him! Now, he'll live his life in fear!"

"As if he wasn't before!" Pakku spat back. "As if you never went to sleep terrified that one day everyone would find out! That he'd never be able to live a full, normal life! Well, I've got news for you, sweetheart: his life will never be normal! He's a firebender in the Northern Water Tribe, and we are at war! He will never have the life you wanted for him!"

His mother flinched.

Pakku calmed, restraining his anger. "But, with time, we have the chance to make him into something great. He can still serve his tribe: he can earn his place among us. The gods have given him incredible power, and it is not our place to question them. What is our place, however, is deciding how we use him. Do we hide his gift? Or do we hone it?"

"But you saw the crowd," his father injected, taking a step forward. "They're terrified of him! They want my son gone."

"Well, I'm afraid I can't help with public relations," Pakku grinned. "That will be the job of the Chief."

"The Chief?" Zuko repeated.

More people suddenly barged through the door—Noktul and Asiaka. His uncle grabbed his cousin. "Come away, Peti," he urged, throwing Zuko a nervous look. "This isn't your place."

Peti wrested his arm free. "I'll do no such thing!"

"Do not be stupid, boy! He's not of your blood," Asiaka hissed. "You have already dishonoured us with your lies!"

"Don't risk you future over this," Noktul begged. "Please, son, it's not worth it!"

Peti scoffed and took a few steps back. "Do you even hear yourselves? You're so quick to turn on him. Your nephew; an innocent child! A little firebending and he's a monster, just like that? You're such cowards!"

Asiaka's hand flew, cracking Peti across the face. Zuko jolted, grabbing a hold of his mother.

...Peti glared defiantly at his mother, lip bleeding. Asiaka took a moment to gather herself. "That was a warning," she threatened. "This is not the life you were meant for. You are throwing everything away on this—this abomination!"

"NO!" Peti shouted, and the stern woman recoiled in shock. "I'm so sick and tired of your attempts to turn me into a spoiled, selfish, spineless brat! Has it ever occurred to you for even a second that I might want to think for myself?!"

Zuko trembled, sick to his stomach. His father took a step forward, glaring at Noktul and Asiaka. "My son," he rumbled, "is not an abomination. You need to leave."

Noktul tried to keep the peace. "Brother—"

His father silenced him with a look. Noktul hardened. Asiaka looked colder than the tundra. Her severe, pale eyes fixed Peti. "When you've realised what you've done, come home." With that, they left.

An awful silence hung like an oppressive air. "Peti…" Zuko ventured meekly. "Those are your parents. I'm not—"

The pale Peti held up his hand. Zuko instantly silenced.

"Well. As touching as all this family drama is, we still have important matters to attend to," Pakku carped. He leaned out the doorway and snapped his fingers at one of the guards. "You: tell the Chief we're ready for him."

Zuko's mother shared a glance with his father, slipping her hand in his. "You don't think he'll banish—"

His father shook his head. "He's not heartless. His daughter's the same age as Zuko."

"But the public pressure…"

"We'll pressure him harder," Peti says. "Uncle Kanook's on the council: it'll look bad to dishonour a nobleman's family."

"But we've been lying to the tribe," his mother worried, wringing her hands. "How much honour have we to spare?"

"Tell them you didn't know," Zuko pleaded. "Tell them I lied to you!"

But his father shook his head and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "No, son," he said. "From now on, we must be truthful. We won't let anything happen to you."

At that moment, the fur draping over the doorway hushed aside, revealing the stoic, hard-faced Chief Arnook. Everyone in the room respectfully bowed, including Zuko, who wormed his way off the bed. He'd only ever seen the Chief from afar, at official events or celebrations. He'd never been old enough to have a private audience.

Until now.

Chief Arnook nodded to Zuko's parents. "I am sorry for how things have gone today," he began. "Master Pakku should have handled things better."

Pakku scowled, embarrassed. "Sir—"

The Chief interrupted him. "You brought me here today, Master Pakku, claiming you had something incredible for me to see. Incredible yes, but unbelievable, also." He turned to Zuko and eyed him. The boy shrunk. "How do we know that you are truly of our tribe?"

The room felt cold and quiet. "...He's our son," his mother quietly said. "I have raised him since the day he was born."

"Let the boy speak for himself," Chief Arnook commanded, bending his gaze to Zuko.

The boy felt all eyes on him, but he didn't know what to say in his own defence. "I…" he stammered, swallowing. Mustering his courage, he tried again. "I am loyal to my tribe. This is my family, these are my parents. I love them. I don't want to hurt anyone. I just…want to be normal."

Zuko was suddenly struck by the truth of his statement. There was pleasure in firebending: it was an extension of himself, just as much a part of him as waterbending was to Peti. But if he couldn't a firebender, he wanted to waterbend. And if he couldn't waterbend, he wanted to be normal.

And he'd never be normal.

Chief Arnook gazed at him steadily. Then softened. "I believe you, Zuko, son of Kanook," he acquiesced, and Zuko's parents swayed with relief. Zuko released a breath he didn't realise he was holding. "The safest thing for all involved is for him to be trained, properly. I will do all that I can to calm the public, but for now, it would be wise to lie low. My personal guard will help protect you, and Master Pakku will do what he can to smooth this over. He will also agree to take on Peti, son of Noktul, as an apprentice once more."

"I what," Pakku growled.

Even Peti looked shocked. "Thank you, Chief Arnook, but, what if I don't want to be trained by a child-duelling ass?"

Chief Arnook laughed. "I can understand that. But you earned the right, and it was revoked unfairly. Besides, I would have thought you'd enjoy having the opportunity to pay him back."

Peti's expression changed. "Good point."

"I will meet with the council this evening to discuss the matter further," Chief Arnook announced. "You shall hear my decision shortly."

"So I'm not banished?" Zuko asked hopefully.

Chief Arnook met his gaze. "No, my boy," he assured. "But this is far from over."