Deliberations

They waited for the crowds to disperse before going home. By the time they reached the gondolas, the sun was well and truly setting. The quiet canal waters seemed to glow like golden pools in the dimming light. Chief Arnook had commissioned several of his best guardsmen to stay with Zuko's family 'until further notice': a reminder to Zuko that he was far from safe.

He didn't mind the guards, though it did feel strange to be followed by stoic men with ornate, whale-bone weapons. The only times he ever saw such things were when they were hanging over the mantel at home. Zuko remembered trying to pick one up at a very young age, hoping to handle them as he had once seen his father do. But his father scolded him so fiercely that Zuko never tried to play with them again. "They're too dangerous for you," he remembered him saying. "You're not meant for such things."

Meant for such things. Zuko sometimes thought he wasn't meant to be born.

He shivered, leaning over the edge of the gondola and let his fingers skirt the surface of the freezing canal water. "I'll send the servants for some new clothes for you," he heard his mother say. It took him a moment to realise she was talking to Peti.

"It's okay, Aunt Palena," he said modestly, stirring in his seat. "I'll go to the markets in the morn—"

"Don't be silly," she dismissed. "No nephew of mine will stay with us without proper wardrobe."

That's right, Zuko thought, perking up. Peti's staying. His stomach then clenched as he remembered why. My fault. He removed his hand from the water and pulled on his father's gloves. "Can he have the room down the hall from mine?" he asked.

His father, who had been gazing into the distance with a far off expression, smiled wryly. "I'm sure neither of you will get any sleep if he did."

"Who needs sleep?" Peti quipped, stifling a yawn. "Not me."

"Or me!" Zuko added, feeling his enthusiasm creeping back. His mother gave him a cross look. "What?" he asked.

"Zuko, remember what the Chief said about lying low. I don't want you sneaking off anywhere at night. Or at day, either. Come of think of it, I want you to always have someone with you."

"Even when I go to the bathroom?"

His mother looked unimpressed. "I need you to take this seriously, Zuko. We're still unhappy to find out you've been lying to us."

A pang of guilt shot through Zuko as he realised he hadn't actually apologised. "I'm sorry," he admitted truthfully. "I just... I wanted to..."

His mother sighed. "It barely matters now. And we're all tired. We'll save our thoughts for tomorrow."

A quiet settled over them. Peti was the first to disturb it. "…Thank you for letting me stay with you," he said mutely.

His father, after a moment, wrapped an arm around his nephew's shoulders. "Of course," he said, as if there wasn't any other possible answer.

Zuko showed Peti to the guest room. "The servants will make up the bed for you," he piped, practically trembling with excitement. "And there are board games there, and I can show you where all the goods books are in the library."

"That's alright, Zuko," Peti said, smiling tiredly. "I'm not in the mood for much tonight."

"Well, we have tomorrow," Zuko replied. "And the day after! And you don't have training, so we can do whatever we want! Total freedom!"

"Oh, the havoc we can wreak."

Zuko giggled. It would be like having an older brother, he thought. And after the Chief fixes everything, we can train together again, every day! And even though he was still a little scared and angry at the old waterbending master, the idea of practicing, really practicing, out in the open, with his cousin, seemed more than worth the dull ache in his ribs.

But then he remembered: Peti was with them because he didn't have a home. Or rather, he couldn't go back to the one he had. Not yet. Because he had lied for and defended Zuko, and his parents had punished him for it. A sickly cold tendril tugged in Zuko's stomach. It's all my fault.

A voice pulled him out of his thoughts. He turned and lifted his brow. "Huh?"

A servant stood in the doorway. "Dinner will be ready shortly," she said, and disappeared down the hall.

Zuko turned to Peti. "Hungry?"

"I could eat a turtle seal."

"Race you!" Zuko chirped, and took off running. He heard the teen's footsteps behind him and glanced over his shoulder. As he did, he lost his footing on the slippery steps, tumbling to the ground floor with a crash.

Peti sprinted down, barely containing laughter as Zuko rubbed his backside. "You alright?" he asked breathlessly.

"Fine," Zuko grouched, and Peti chuckled, pulling him up.

"Ice beats Zuko." The wry teen winked. Zuko giggled.

His parents looked like they had been locked in deep conversation, interrupted when the boys showed up. Zuko let Peti take the seat beside his father, who sat at the head of the table. He tried to sit next to his cousin, but his mother shook his head and patted the seat next to her. Zuko hung his head and obliged, stomach rumbling as he admired all the foods laid out on the table. It was then he remembered he barely ate at breakfast.

His father murmured a brief prayer of thanks to the moon and ocean spirits before everyone tucked in. No one spoke, not really, content to just eat. Zuko's gut twisted again, stealing his appetite. "What were you talking about when we came in?" he asked.

His mother looked at his father. "Peti, would you like more, uh, seaweed salad?"

Peti glanced at his full plate. "No. Thank you, Aunt Palena."

His mother nodded, then piled more onto Zuko's plate. His nose wrinkled in disgust. "Ugh, mom!"

"A growing boy needs his vegetables," she stated, and finished it off with a garnish of sea cucumber. "Eat what you've been given."

Zuko stared at the formidable lump of seaweed and sighed, then glanced over at Peti. The waterbender politely knifed through his food, but wasn't eating.

Shame twinged within Zuko. "Hey, Peti, look at this!" He took his knife and balanced it on his finger, showing off a trick he'd learned a few days ago.

Peti looked up in time to see his mother snatch the knife away. "Not at the table."

Zuko blushed. Everyone seemed to be picking through their food listlessly. Sencha the maid strode in from the kitchen and refilled his father's wine. Zuko noticed she was staring at him; he felt himself unconsciously shrink.

Wine began spilling onto the table. "Is there a problem, Sencha?" his father asked politely.

The woman started when she realised what she was doing. "Oh! I'm so sorry, Councilman Kanook. Please forgive me." Embarrassed, Sencha hurried out. His mother took her napkin and calmly mopped up the mess. So, I guess the servants know, too, Zuko thought miserably.

His father took his mother's hand and gave her a warm smile. "We were just thinking, Peti. One of my fishing boats had a waterbender just quit. If you wanted, I'd love to take you out to sea for a bit, show you the ropes."

"You offering me a job?" Peti asked.

"If you wanted, but I was more thinking an experience for now," his father responded, smiling kindly. "I remember you telling me once you'd never been beyond the wall. If we finish the rounds early, perhaps we could explore the Pinnacles, or chase turtle seals. Or even practice for your ice dodging test. Whatever you feel like."

"Noktul hasn't taken you ice dodging yet?" Zuko blurted. "But aren't you already fourteen?"

"...He was going to, after today." Peti stood up, bowed to his father respectfully, then left.

...Zuko felt as if he'd been punched in the gut. His father scowled at him. "That was thoughtless, Zuko."

"But you brought it up!" he said before he could stop himself. It only hardened his father's glare, and the boy shrank down in shame, suddenly eager to disappear.

His mother gave Zuko a long look. "...Go apologise to your cousin, Zuko."

The boy nodded and stood. His father pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. Zuko bit his lip, shifting from foot to foot. "I'm sorry, father."

When his father didn't respond, Zuko's eyes watered and he hurried out. He could take Pakku's anger, or the anger of the people, but feeling like he'd let down his father… His stomach wrung itself into vice-tight knots.

He had to find Peti.

He looked around and noticed that the front door was open. A small burst of panic bubbled up within him, terrified that Peti had decided to go home after all, but when Zuko stepped out into the front courtyard, he found his cousin merely sitting on the steps, gazing at the moon.

He walked over and sat at Peti's side, tucking his hands beneath him. When the teenager did nothing, his anxiety boiled. "I'm really sorry," he pleaded.

Peti sighed and shook his head. "It's not your fault."

"But it is my fault!" Zuko insisted. "If I hadn't asked you to train me, Pakku would never—"

"I knew the risks, Zuko," Peti interrupted. "It's not like you could ever make me do something I didn't want to."

"But I shouldn't have asked," the eleven-year-old said ruefully.

Peti gazed out into the night. "…If I were you, I'd let this one go," Peti said after a moment. "You can apologise and apologise until you're blue in the face, and beat yourself up over this entire mess, but at the end of the day, it won't fix anything."

"…I guess not."

Peti crossed his arms, squaring his shoulders. "Better to forget, and move forward."

Zuko shifted. "…Are you angry with me?" he asked unsurely.

Peti sat in silence for a long moment. "I'm angry with myself."

Zuko twisted his lips, desperate to make his cousin feel better. In a moment of inspiration, he rolled his sleeves and stood up. He strode out into the courtyard and then turned back to face Peti, kneeling and holding a hand to the icy ground.

Peti lifted a brow. "What are you doing?"

Heat pooled beneath Zuko's palm. The ice hissed and rose in a cloud of steam. Zuko reached out and suspended the steam in place, then began moving it, shifting his weight through the motions as Peti had taught him.

The teen seemed to catch on. He pushed to his feet and walked over. Zuko then wordlessly passed the steam to Peti. The teen caught it, swirling it around in the air. He condensed it into a thin ribbon, ebbing like seaweed in the tide. Then he let it phase back into steam and passed it back to Zuko.

Zuko bent the steam around in a circle, then released it back to Peti. Around and around they went, back and forth, push and pull, until Zuko forgot how long they just stood there, locked in a cycle. "It's almost like we're both waterbenders," Zuko eventually said.

Peti smiled. "I guess we are."

Zuko lifted in hope, but in the distracted moment felt a charge of heat leave his palm, superheating the steam. It expanded and burst towards Peti as the teenager lifted his hand. Zuko couldn't pull it back in time. "Wait, PETI!"

The waterbender suddenly yelped in pain and recoiled.

"PETI!" Zuko cried. He bolted to his cousin as the steam crystallised in the cold. Why can't I do anything right?!

Peti, cradling his hand, simply grit his teeth and shook his head at Zuko. "No, stop! It's okay!" The firebender froze in place and stared as Peti drew up a string of water with one hand and let it wrap around the scalded skin of the other. The water covered the burns and began to glow, filling the yard with an unearthly hue.

"You can heal?" Zuko asked, astonished.

The light of the water dimmed, then dripped lifelessly from his healed hand. "It's not something I'm good at," Peti said nonchalantly. "Just figured out I could do it."

"You should talk to that woman—Yagoda," Zuko suggested. "She's the healer, right? You should learn from her!"

Peti scoffed. "Healing's for the women. I'm supposed to be a warrior."

"But is that what you want?"

Peti didn't answer. Zuko thought for a moment, then blurted, "Is that why you trained me?"

Peti pursed his lips, but turned away. "You're my family. We look out for family; it's what our people do."

"That's what you always told me, but I don't think it's the whole truth," Zuko observed.

Peti stared at the ground. After a long, quiet moment, he finally said, "I don't...like seeing anybody bullied for who they are. For something they can't control."

He didn't say anything else, and nor did he look like he wanted to. Zuko decided not to press it. But in the silence, he heard a weird noise: something akin to a hushed whisper, then a wet splashing sound. Peti's eyes widened; whatever it was, he'd heard it to. Zuko searched the quiet of the night.

Then the noise happened again. It was coming from behind the front gates. Zuko's heart thudded with panic.

Peti canted his head. "I know those voices," he whispered, then charged towards the gates. Zuko followed close at his heels.

Peti kicked the gates open and two figures crashed backwards, a can of red paint spilling out into the snow. Zuko squinted through the darkness: it was two waterbenders from the school. Koluk and Arno.

Peti rolled his fists "What do you think you're doing?!"

The two boys scrambled to their feet. Arno went dashing off into the dark, but Koluk lingered long enough to throw a nasty look at Zuko. "Traitor!" he spit, then dashed after his friend.

"Jerks," Peti grumbled beneath his breath. Zuko looked at the spilled paint, then to the wall surrounding his family's home. The waterbenders had been writing something on it in large, bold letters. They had been interrupted before they could finished, but they had been close enough.

"Firebender, go home," Zuko read. His insides felt cold.

Peti stared at the writing. He lifted his hand and rocked back, pulling the paint from the ice. "Idiots," he muttered, dusting off his hands. "Using water-based paint."

Zuko trembled, fists clenched, staring at the ground in anger. After a moment, he grit his teeth and tried to chase them. Peti ran around him and skidded to a halt, stopping him in his tracks. "No, Zuko!"

"But they—"

"You need to do everything you can to prove them wrong, now," Peti interrupted, putting a hand on his shoulder. "And sometimes that means doing absolutely nothing. They're complete idiots, Zuko. They aren't worth it."

Zuko quivered, angry, itching to do something, anything—but he knew Peti was right. He turned heel and stormed back to the house. It just wasn't fair. They didn't know him!

None of this was fair.

Zuko sat on the roof and watched the sun rise beyond the glacial walls of the city. The light shattered into a thousand brilliant colours as it hit the early morning clouds. Zuko inhaled deeply, feeling the power within him grow with the dawn. He'd always noticed he felt stronger during the day.

"Zuko?" he heard a sweet voice say. Below, his mother stuck her head out from his bedroom balcony. She glanced up and noticed him on the roof tiles, but instead of scolding him and telling him to come down like he expected, she climbed up and joined him.

He snuggled into her side, breath fogging in the frigid air.

"It's beautiful," she revered after a while.

Zuko hugged his knees to his chest, staring out to the golden horizon. "Last night was weird," he said softly.

She smiled. "I think if we're being honest, that whole day was us going from one weird moment to the next."

"It's weird that I don't have to hide anymore," Zuko said. "It's weird that you both told me for so long to hide. I tried to tell you, yesterday… When I came home, before breakfast. I wanted to tell you..."

His mother suddenly looked ashamed.

"...Everything's going to change now, isn't it?" he supposed, and she nodded. Zuko rested his chin on his knees.

"...Tell me what you're feeling," she urged gently.

"...I know I should be scared, and I am, but I'm also…relieved. Pakku's right. It's no longer a secret that's just going to keep getting bigger. It's out there. I don't have to pretend anymore. People see me for what I really am." His face crumpled and he struggled to hold in tears. "Even if they don't like what I am."

His mother wrapped him in her arms and held him close. "Oh, my little sun... I know it can hurt, but I hope you know that none of the people who love you see you that way. That crowd, yesterday... There are just so many small-minded people. But that's just what they are. Small. They'll never amount to anything if all they have in their hearts is fear."

"Even Aunt Asiaka and Uncle Noktul?" he asked, and she gave him a grim look.

"I'm sorry you had to see them like that," she said mournfully. "She and your uncle will come around, in time. Peti isn't like them, so we know there's hope. All that goodness doesn't come from nowhere."

Zuko giggled, wiping his eyes. "Yeah. I guess so."

"Don't be like those small-minded people, Zuko. Be brave. And be yourself."

He blinked, stunned. "…You've never told me to do that before."

"And I wish I had," she said sincerely. "I am so, so sorry, Zuko. Your father and I both are. But from now on, we don't want you to be anything less than yourself. We were being small. But we promise to do better, just as you promise to be you. My little ticklish firebender."

"I'm not ticklish," he replied.

"Are you sure?" Her fingers wriggled under his armpits.

Zuko couldn't help but giggle, fighting her hands and squirming. "Mom, stop it! I'm not a baby! Stop! That's not funny! Mom!"

But she held him and tickled him till he was breathless with laughter, finally just giving him a tight, squeezing hug. Zuko snickered, genuine, and she grinned. "That's more like it," she mused.

Zuko smiled. But then their front gate opened below and a group of people began pouring in. Zuko leaned forward. It was the Chief!

"I guess the council's done deliberating," his mother observed. "Come, best clothes. Meet us downstairs when you're presentable."

They both climbed down. His mother caught him as Zuko as he dropped down to the balcony. He dove through his wardrobe and changed quickly into a fresh, finely tailored parka and his favourite boots. He tightened the sash around his waist and then smoothed his hair, checking the pendant around his wrist. Dragons. Still close. He hightailed it out the door.

He was careful down the stairs this time, and when he reached the front foyer he found his parents, Peti, and the Chief gathered in a little group. Chief Arnook looked over their shoulders and nodded politely, sleepless circles beneath his eyes. Zuko slowed and bowed respectfully.

"My council and I have discussed the matter at length," Chief Arnook announced. "We've come up with a plan."