Fight little prince, fight.
Fly little turtleduck, fly.
Bite little dragon, bite.
Try, little Zuko, try.
Fight Prince Zuko, fight.
It had been a pleasant mild and humid night at Ember Island not too long ago when his mother had taught him something she never wanted Zuko to forget. After yet another atrocious interpretation of the plays his mother seemed to adore, his annoyed groanings about why he was dragged to them and why did she enjoy them so much made her take him to meet the cast.
Tried all he could to use his lessons in poetry and writing, he was embarrassed to tell his mother he missed the whole point of that interaction. She laughed softly, covering her mouth with an empty tray, one she had used to bring cold drinks to the cast and staff behind the curtain.
"Everybody's got a story of their own Zuko." She had said.
At his ever confused state, she took him for an impromptu trip to the heart of the town and told him to look at the eyes of every single person he saw. To try and bring a little of what they say to his mind and imagine himself as a humble townsfolk from this peaceful island.
Everyone had eyes a shade of amber, as was typical all across the Fire Nation. But the shadow and light in them changed from every pair, every face showed different lines etched onto it. Ages of longing or laughter drew themselves in the face of those who would be his subjects.
To this day, Zuko can only guess his mother tried to make him see the people as individuals with worries and stories to tell rather than a faceless crowd of peasants under his future rule.
When she disappeared without a trace, Zuko tried to hold onto her teachings. He would sometimes try to decipher the look of soldiers and palace guards behind their masks, but the awkwardness of it often made him drop it, not struck by any insightful epiphany to decipher his mother's words.
That approach having failed, he one day noticed how awful and bratty he and his sister Azula had always been to the servants, pretty much their whole life. Even if there were differences; he had never thrown fireballs at the hands of servants like Azula had for example, he still felt pretty bad about treating them like crap, but was too prideful and unlike him to bow and apologize to them.
So he resorted to making it up to them by being less of a pain and at least throw them an apologetic glance when he made a mess of a parchment with ink or a stray flame ignited a window during form training.
His little sister proved to be more than difficult in making his search for answers come together in that regard. She wasn't outright sadistic, which relieved Zuko if only a little bit. But if he was a spoiled brat that could be a pain to deal with, Azula was a cruel and punitive child that expected her lessers to serve her perfectly or suffer.
Zuko had tried to subtly 'guide' her towards a kinder treatment of the palace staff, as a voice of 'maturity' and a 'concerned brother'. She of course, had laughed in his face, said she hadn't taken orders from him for a few years now and she wasn't about to restart any time soon, then she called him the same pet name she had used for him since she was a toddler.
Disappointing, but with a silver lining to it. Even if Azula still verbally abused and humiliated servants as if it were a sport in the Gonryuan Games, the whole 'shooting fireballs at their feet so they jump in terror' thing had drastically reduced. Only she had now taken a newfound interest in shooting them at Zuko's face.
As the gap between prodigious princess and decent firebender at best-prince widened, sparring between siblings had been left forgotten as a thing of the past. Lately though, Zuko had woken up in the medicinal wing with the royal physician staring down on him more times than he could count with the fingers of his hands.
Zuko didn't even think of it as degrading or emasculating anymore, taking what he could and feeling proud of himself the times he didn't immediately eat the stone floor and even more so when his 'pathetic candles' managed to stand their ground to the blazing blue fire that not even their grandfather, father or Uncle managed to conjure.
Let's see General Li even attempt to deflect a jet of blue flame coming at his old and wrinkly face. Thought Zuko, remembering he was kneeling with his back to that old geezer.
"-as Agni bestows his fire to his children, he commands said fire be used with honor and strength." The priest outside of the arena spoke, as was tradition before an Agni Kai.
"Strength and honor are the qualities of the wielder of Agni's sacred flame. The bender must show strength and honor as his flame is suffocated, only with both will he emerge victorious and prove himself a worthy son of the spark. So be that this fire duel be fought as Agni wills it."
When the gong rung Zuko opened his eyes and saw a wall of yellow fire encircling his corner, as well as the whole duel arena. He sprung to his feet and whirled around, positioning himself in a defensive stance anticipating a slow but searing whip of flame from the upper right.
Confusion was evident not only on his face, but also on his stance which faltered briefly. Knowing no fire was shakily hurled at him by a struggling Li, that wasn't even in the arena facing him.
Zuko instinctually raised his guard and internally barked at his limbs to not show any shaking that could betray the ominous feeling he felt looking at the shirtless form of Ozai, the Fire Lord in front of him.
"...f-father?"
Ozai said nothing as he slowly approached the rapidly crumbling Zuko.
"I-I thought I was supposed to fight General l-" His arms who were lowering themselves quickly rose again to guard him while simultaneously Zuko jumped backwards. It was muscle memory, Ozai had shot a fireball to shut him up. It landed and singed where Zuko's feet previously stood.
"Father, why are you-"
"You were ordered to fight Prince Zuko." Ozai replied sternly, but with a serene demeanor to his step and stance.
"Father please! I-I only spoke with the best interests of our soldiers in mind, with the interests of the Fire Nation in mind! I meant no disrespect to you!" Zuko pleaded.
Another torrent of flame was shot his way and he sidestepped and slided to evade by below a third one that left an aftersmell of burnt hair.
Using the momentum and his position, Zuko joined his hands and dived forward placing his forehead just above the ground.
"Forgive me father."
"Rise and fight for your honor Prince Zuko!"
"No! I cannot fight you father… a firebender must know there is no honor in raising his flame against the Fire Lord. I will not fight you."
He dared to raise his look and meet the eyes of the man who gave him life. They were scornful in their gaze, his mouth etched in a frown that signaled nothing but disgust at the perceived weakness and further disrespect.
"Very well, but you will learn respect. And suffering will be your teacher."
Zuko's heartbeat accelerated and his stomach wrenched in anxiety. Ozai's hand was poised in position to discharge the fire to burn off his son's face. Zuko stared at his fingers and noticed the air getting blurred and hotter, he almost closed his eyes but noticed a flicker in the heating air.
Hesitance was not what Ozai would ever show in this situation, thus when Zuko looked up to the golden gaze of his father he found him more pensive than apprehensive. "Consequently, as soon as you step down from this arena or as soon as you get taken away in a stretcher, I will personally send a messenger hawk to the frontline. The 41st is to advance on their target as soon as you leave these grounds." He said in a calculated and steely tone, only for Zuko's ears.
Zuko's eyes shot upwards hearing that.
"That's right, your dishonor will be their immediate death sentence. You spoke out of turn and with not a damn clue of the affairs of state and war disrespecting yourself, my military and me as a whole. All for a division of recruits, but when they needed you to fight for them, you showed a pathetic weakness and cowardice.
I'll be sure to tell them that their 'honorable sacrifice' was requested by Prince Zuko himself."
The air in front of his face reignited with a terrible blinding light that craved for his flesh, but his hands unleashed a gust of flames just in time to intercept the incoming heat.
Zuko's body moved on its own, his feet springing to make him soar across the arena, evading the endless stream of infernal fire Ozai emitted. It looked almost catlike, his joints managing to keep him unburnt and in motion to barely avoid the charred spots in the ground which would have been him had he jumped a fraction of a second later.
Ozai sneered, angry that his continuous projectiles weren't harming the worthless coward of his son. Changing his tactic, he raised both of his fists to fuel two precise strikes that would rain Zuko.
Zuko slid forward, again with not a moment to spare and the awful smell of burnt hair attacking his nose. He shot a weak but guided fireball to cover for his movement of rising and adopting a defensive stance.
Ozai's hand easily caught and snuffed it, but it gave him the window of opportunity needed. They stared each other down, the shake to Zuko's form was more than evident to the both of them. Ozai grinned at his terror and Zuko implored his legs to not fail the 41st.
The 41st…
They could be lounging around this very moment around a campfire, singing songs and wondering what tomorrow will be like, unaware that tomorrow may never arrive. Not if Zuko falls.
That thought gave his body the strength it needed to at least not shake visibly, even if the fear was very much still there.
He sent a blaze darting towards Ozai's midsection, trying hard to picture Azula in front of him, hoping it would help him steady his mind and will to fight. Azula and Ozai's fighting styles were vastly different, but he had to use everything that could help him mount even an inkling of an attack, psychological self-deceptions if need be.
Ozai entertained the assaulting blazes, but made easy work of dispelling them time and time again. Bored of it quickly, he coiled a flame around his right hand and ordered it to heat up.
The oxygen flickered and a brief flash of blue illuminated his cruel face.
Zuko had just the mind to block the hissing projectile with his open palm set ablaze, when their fires met Zuko expelled it in five ways through his fingers. It was impressive but his fingers screamed at the pain.
It wasn't a nasty burn but the skin felt raw and tender. He ignored it and blocked another torrent coursing the air towards his face.
A few minutes passed and Zuko's hands begged to be released from the constant heat manipulation and deflection, but he couldn't afford to grant them that desperate wish.
Knowing that he wouldn't last much longer if the duel carried on like this, he tried something stupid. Running straight forward for Ozai he kicked the air in a circular motion at the same time that he dodged an attack aimed for his legs.
It proved to be ineffective, but Ozai was taken aback by an unexpected smell of singed hair… his beard! His eyes widened at the realization and the sight of Zuko using that to his advantage. The boy lit his right fist despite the wince his face showed and lunged for his face.
Ozai easily stopped and extinguished his flame, not letting go of him. He examined the adrenaline-high look of his son and he smiled cruelly. "What happened to the strength and honor of not using your fire against the Fire Lord?"
Zuko gulped. "I cannot let you murder an entire division."
"Is that right? Prince Zuko, protector of the 41st division." Ozai mocked. Zuko couldn't believe his mind found the time to think about any other thing right now, but the way his father said that made him think about the worst of Azula's behavior.
He couldn't follow up with that analysis because he got rocked in the left side of his face.
Ozai's fist–thank Agni, didn't carry fire with it, but he punched Zuko so precisely and with the amount of strength to incapacitate someone. His ears were ringing and his legs wobbled. Zuko couldn't even attempt to retaliate before Ozai released his captured hand and used the momentum of his body to deal him another hit on the other side of Zuko's face. The force of the impact spinned his body, making Zuko open his eyes to the ground getting closer as his legs gave out and his body collapsed face-first.
"Is this all? Is this all the resistance you could give to prevent the plan you condemned from happening?" Ozai leered at the crumpled form of Zuko, kicking him in the stomach.
He commanded flames to singe the tissue his foot was rocking repeatedly, smiling as if Zuko's cries of pain were the most magnificent melody he had ever listened to.
He prepared to claim his victory with a burn of the skin heating his foot like he had done so earlier with his hand. Ozai would never admit it but he was honoring Zuko's even if hesitant and wimpy fight. A mark on his abdomen to give him a way to remember the day he stood up to the Fire Lord.
The blue spark came and went and Ozai positioned himself to strike down at his son. Zuko however, turned himself around despite having his eyes closed and looking more knocked out than conscious and casted a weak fire whip upwards that dissipated itself barely having passed Ozai's head.
When Zuko went out cold and was deemed unable to keep fighting, Ozai was declared victor of the Agni Kai. But the renovated odor of burnt hair kept him flabbergasted, quickly concealing his surprise under a mask of calculated stoicness.
Then fury.
He knelt in front of Zuko and noticed how blood was already rushing to his upper left cheek. Normal, given the more awkward position of the second punch, the left side had received more damage.
Ozai had considered giving Zuko a more dignified mark, but he had forced his hand. He would make sure suffering would teach him not to be insolent.
"AAAAAAAAAAARGHHHHHHHH AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"
A few moments passed with Zuko's unconscious body twitching as the only sound that could be heard in the arena, the physicians and audience deadly silent.
After the panicking medics were allowed to rush him off the limits of the duel. Ozai thought of the royal order he'd have to write and send with maximum priority for the third army.
Prince Zuko, protector of the 41st.
The Fire Lord grinned. He thought of a better, more fitting punishment.
A/N: Some may see how many creative liberties I'm taking with changing how established scenes from canon play out and how many things I'm added to things like an Agni Kai that aren't there in the original cartoon, you'll just have to trust me and the process.
Anyways, writing actual firebending combat was a complete fucking nightmare, as I often found myself not having any clue how to describe what I was thinking. And there are only so many ways you can say 'he hurled a fireball'. But I'm pretty happy with what I managed to flesh out. I can only hope someone reads it and gets the gist of it and imagines something believable or at least not utterly ridiculous lmfao.
Until the next time!