The cart ride had gotten me to the village faster than I ever could have on foot. When I got off the wooden structure when the driver announced our arrival, I stretched my legs and arms. My muscles felt heavy from lack of activity. As I popped my back, I sighed in relief as the stiffness melted away. I thanked the driver with a small payment, but he pushed my hands back, saying I needed the money more.
I began wandering the streets of the small village. The smell of wet minerals and other things from the river hung in the air, subtly covered by the smell of jasmine and citrus oils. The houses might as well have been small shacks compared to big houses. The main building structure was a strange grass thatch woven tightly into place. People walked the roads carrying packs. While door frames weren't painted red, I did see red weaving hidden amongst the reeds.
"Coins for an old man?"
From far away, I recognized the voice. I turned slowly. Near a bridge that ran over a small stream that ran into the river, I saw two figures sitting on a mat. An ostrich horse was sleeping behind them, and their backs were pressed against the steed's hide. Both of them wore muted colors, and the younger one was slouched with a wide straw hat obscuring his face. The other had his hat out, shaking it where it rattled with the few coins he had been eager to collect.
"Uncle?" I kept my voice low to avoid drawing attention, "Your Highness?"
Finally, the younger man lifted his head. Sure enough, I saw the recognizable scar on the left side of his face. His brow was puckered in anger, yet even then, there was a softness to his eyes as he looked me over.
"Gitan…" Zuko practically whispered my name.
Iroh glanced over and his smile grew even wider. Wide enough to make his warm eyes crinkle in the corners."Gitan! What a pleasant surprise!" He set the hat down and opened his arms wide, as if asking for an embrace. I knelt down and obliged, hugging the old general.
"It's so good to see you both. I'm glad you're alright." I pulled back from the hug and my eyes slowly drifted towards Zuko. He still looked tense, with his arms across his chest and his muscles taut. "What are you two even doing here? Last time…" I trailed off, the memory of how we parted ways from the North Pole fresh in my memory. Zuko had helped me escape Zhao's ship, and the general aided in protecting the Moon Spirit. It was strange seeing them reduced to the shells of who they used to be,
Iroh swatted the air. "We sought refuge in a resort…"
"Until my sister invited herself in," Zuko interrupted, his voice laced with anger, "She tricked us. Now thanks to her, we're reduced to this! It's humiliating! We're royalty! These people should be giving us whatever we want!" His fists clenched tightly and he looked away. I saw the slightest slump in his posture. Anger was turning into shame, and he was too proud to show it to me, especially now.
"Which resort?" I asked. "I was training with a dancer at one near the Su Oku River. Azula had made an appearance there."
Iroh sighed. "Then we must have just missed each other. Truly a shame."
I shrugged. "It could have been a blessing in disguise; if Azula saw me as, well, me, and not Jade the Red Gale, I'd hate to think what would happen."
I saw Zuko turn over with an annoyed expression. Just as he was about to say something, a shadow fell onto the mat. Standing over us was a man with a sword strapped to his back. The smile on his face was wide. Too wide. Too friendly Even in his eyes winked at a mischief that I knew was counterbalanced with malice. In one hand, he pulled out a gold piece, which glinted with temptation.
"How about some entertainment in exchange for a gold piece?" he asked.
Zuko glared at him. "We're not performers," he said gruffly.
"Not professional, anyways!" Iroh grinned.
I put a hand on Iroh's. "No, Uncle." I gave him a look with burning disapproval. "We just finished a performance set. We should rest." I prayed that the spirits would have him catch on to my act. Yet much to my dismay, Iroh shook me off and stood tall and confident. Unapologetically, he started belting out the first verse of a folk song. I pinched the bridge of my nose and avoided watching him. My cheeks flamed hot. Zuko was right; this was humiliating.
"Come on," the man sneered, "we're talking a gold piece here! Let's see some action!" He reached behind and pulled out his weapon. At first, it looked like one blade, but then he reached upward, revealing it was a set of twin broadswords. "Dance!"
"You want someone to dance?" I stood up, my eyes focused on the swordsman. "Leave the old man alone." I stepped in front of Iroh. "I'll give you a dance. But I don't think you'll like the finale."
The swordsman's smile faltered slightly, but he held his ground. "Feisty and pretty? I like that. But don't think you can scare me off." He twirled his swords, the blades flashing in the sunlight. "This is going to be fun."
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Zuko's angry expression turn to one of surprise, which melted into respect. I picked up my staff, narrowing my eyes to the assailant. The man began swiping his blades at the ground. I knocked them back with my staff in a sort of game combined with a dance on if he could catch me off guard. I forced him away from Zuko and Iroh. All the while, Iroh continued to sing. As the song came to an end, the swordsman feinted his move, sending me nearly falling before I caught my balance and corrected my stance. He laughed loudly and cruelly. "Nothing like a fat man singing for his dinner." He looked at me, "And you! Oh, what a treat. But save the dancing for other performances." Sheathing his swords, he tossed the gold piece onto the ground. Iroh picked it up and put it in his hat.
I sat down to catch my breath. A thin gleam of sweat was on my brow. I wiped it away with a huff. I stole a look over at Zuko, who was intently glaring at the retreating swordsman. Along with anger and humiliation, I saw something else blazing in his golden irises. Envy. It was raw, and seeing him express so much pain all at once was both refreshing and saddening. He always looked angry and distant. But now, without the honor to uphold, his emotions were front and center.
I pulled my wallet out from the pack. "This might be useful," I said.
"We don't need your pity money, Gitan," Zuko huffed.
I glared at him. "Who was it that was just complaining about not being given what he wanted? Besides, I'm not giving it out of pity. I'm giving it because I want to." He didn't respond. I sighed and shook my head. "Fine, go ahead and be stubborn. But you should learn to rely on others, not just yourself. I would know." I pulled out a coin from the pouch and added it to Iroh's growing pile in his hat.
Zuko stared at the silver piece I had added, which was covering the rudely given gold piece. After a moment, I heard him make a frustrated, huffy sigh. The rigidness of his shoulders drooped easily, and he avoided looking at me.
"So, Iroh," I asked, looking over at the general, "where are you two staying?"
"Right now? Nowhere," he answered.
"Oh." I suppose it made sense to avoid unwarranted attention when they were on a large wanted poster. Simply waltzing into any hotel with a mark would be asking for trouble. 'Wait, you mean you've been staying on the fringes of towns or in the woods all by yourselves? Surely you two didn't get hurt!"
Iroh rubbed the back of his head with a wide grin. "Well, on our first few days, I…"
"He made tea out of a poisonous bush," Zuko muttered.
I gasped at Iroh. "You didn't! Did you?" Of course Iroh would accidentally do something like that. "You're lucky you found a healer! Or did you use bacui berries? They grow pretty well in this spot."
Iroh gave Zuko a childish taunting expression, which warranted an eye roll from his nephew. "I was under the impression they were!"
"You can tell from the number of clusters," I said. "Clusters of five, you stay alive, clusters of three you won't be able to see."
Zuko looked at me skeptically. "Where did you learn that?"
I shrugged. "It was a rhyme my first Air Nomad mentor taught me. Needless to say it comes in handy." I waved my hand nonchalantly. "But that's neither here nor there. The point is you two need my help, and not from me making ends meet as the Red Gale."
Iroh nodded. He stood up and gently patted the ostrich horse. "Perhaps you should ride."
"Oh, no thank you. I was on a wooden cart for days. A little walking would be good for me."
With a stiff nod, Iroh gently patted the ostrich horse. The creature made a soft grunting noise and stood. The men mounted the bird and I walked close behind, following them over the stream and deeper into the woods. The sounds of the village disappeared with the rustling of branches. The road was the only hint that civilization was close by. Occasional travelers in wagons or ostrich horses would echo behind us on the path, but eventually bird song and the rustle of critters became the only sound.
We came to a stop at a shallow cave further back. In it, I saw very small bags which once held food. Remains of meager meals were scattered outside. Bags of feed for the ostrich horse lay on top of one another. The mats and blankets were worn and tattered. A tiny pot was set up over a meager campfire.
"Unfortunately, we don't have any extra beds," Iroh said apologetically.
"No worries," I said. "I have a roll in my pack."
I found as much of a space as I could and set down my things. My roll was comfortably squeezed beneath a small bush. I smoothed out the blankets and set down my staff. My wallet was snugly hidden beneath a feed bag which I used as a pillow. I immediately thought of my camp outs when I was traveling with Aang and his friends, and longing hit my heart.
"Your staff has seen better days…" There was a tone of concern, and maybe a sense of apology, in Zuko's tone, as he slowly approached me.
"Yeah, I guess it is…pretty well loved," I said softly, looking at it.
Zuko stepped closer. In his golden eyes, anger had subsided to a small sense of regret. He reached for my staff, nearly unrecognizable from the scarfs I had tied around it. He looked at me, silently asking to see. I peeled back one layer of the scarf to reveal it. His eyes fell on the section which had burned once, and had splintered off during our last fight. As he traced the section which had been tied with my chupa's old sleeve, there was a flicker of pain on his face. He lifted his face slowly to meet my eyes. In his, I saw something that I only saw once. Regret.
For a moment, we just looked at each other. Beneath the regret, there were traces of emotions I had hardly seen beyond anger, humiliation, and while he would never admit it, shame.
The silence stretched, thick with unspoken words. It was a moment of honesty, a glimpse behind the walls that Zuko put up over himself. Walls set in the foundation of a misguided drive, but were slowly crumbling to expose confusion on where to go in his path. The family he fought so hard to please was now hunting him. I couldn't even begin to understand how painful that was. A small part of me understood this. My own walls, built to protect the Avatar because he was not just a savior but also my little brother, had crumbled when I saw nonbenders at the mercy of the ripple effects of war. I had found a way to ease it, yet I still wanted to keep him safe.
Very slowly, my hand inched forward. The warmth of his skin was so close that I could feel it. As they almost touched his pale hand, they faltered. I had never dared to touch the prince during my confinement. Yet I wanted to do something to show I was an ally, even something as simple as a brush on his hand. We were no longer prisoner and captor. He had let me go. We were equals now.
Then Iroh's voice shattered the silent moment. "Dinner will be ready soon! I hope you both are hungry!" His cheerfulness clashed with the silent conversation we were having.
Zuko slowly withdrew his hand from my staff. He stood and went to join Iroh by the fire. He kept his face away from me, his shoulders rigid. I wondered if I had imagined that vulnerability in his eyes.
Iroh led the conversation with his undiminished optimism. The food that he had made was under seasoned, but still edible. Beggars couldn't be choosers. While he regaled me with stories of their time in the Earth Kingdom, my eyes drifted over to Zuko. The steely anger had returned, his jaw tight and his eyes glinting. He wasn't partaking in the conversation, and I knew he was thinking of other things.
As the sky turned a pale twilight, the full moon glowing high in the sky on its way to replace the setting sun, our meal was finished. I washed the dishes for them, using water from a makeshift skin and soap given to me by the villagers I had trained. While I was finishing one pot, I saw Zuko marching towards the path with an unbroken stride.
"Where are you going?" I asked.
He stopped, but his eyes were focused on the road. "I'm going for a walk. Stay here and make sure Uncle doesn't try to sneak seconds. I'll be back."
There was something he wasn't telling me. I wanted to press him further, but he was already marching off. I considered following him, but my mind drifted to thinking of Iroh alone. While he wasn't defenseless, he was still a high target. Both the Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation wanted him and his nephew dead. And he had been captured and nearly executed for his war crimes. With a frustrated sigh, I took out my feelings on the pot, scrubbing fiercely until suds formed. I rinsed the scum in a stream nearby and returned to the camp.
Iroh was lounging against the back of the cave when I returned. "Your nephew went for a stroll."
"Ah, so he told you that, too." The way Iroh said it was slightly glum. He put a gentle hand on my own, prompting me to look up at him. "Do not fear, Gitan. Zuko will come back. The cool air will do him good. The breaths will support his Firebending prowess."
I sighed and drew my legs to my chest. "On the bright side, he isn't asking me about my brother. Or his whereabouts for that matter."
Iroh stroked his beard. "Your brother did come up, but it was only a passing thought." His golden eyes fell to the embers in the fire. "The anniversary of his banishment wasn't too long ago."
"So he's been gone for three years now," I murmured softly. I snapped a twig and threw it into the flames. I watched a curled leaf burn up before asking. "Iroh, with all due respect, how come you left with Zuko?"
Iroh's eyes grew dark. He swigged a cup of water from a tin cup . "After Lu Ten's death, I allowed the Earth Kingdom armies to overtake my own forces. The attack on Ba Sing Se became a defeat for the Fire Nation. A loss like that is a stain on any general's record, but given that I am the Fire Lord's brother…"
"…you essentially were just an embarrassment to the royal family." I finished his sentence, looking over at him. "The army respects you still, but your own family…And even though Zuko respects you, he's still searching for his father's approval."
My gut twisted. All this time, I had found Zuko's disrespect of Iroh to be unnecessary. Yet hearing this now, I slowly was beginning to understand. After the fateful Agni Kai, the only family member that cared for Zuko was his uncle. And as a disgraced general, the Fire Lord had been more than happy to send him off with his son. Zuko was a stand-in for Lu Ten; not a replacement, but a spot of love and hope that filled the shape of Iroh's dead son in his heart. Deep down, Zuko knew his uncle cared. It was why he looked to him for guidance even if he didn't listen every time. The twisting in my stomach was laced with envy; Zuko and Iroh had a strong bond, whereas the one I had with Aang was reforged, but still weak. I didn't even have anyone to fill the space of my brother.
I reflected on the complex web of players in this Fire Nation family tree. There was Fire Lord Ozai, of course. Then his disgraced brother, Iroh. The banished Prince Zuko, and now the clearly favored Princess Azula. There was a family member missing. "What was his mother like? Zuko's mother, I mean."
"Ursa? She was like steel under velvet. On the surface, she was elegant, poised, and intelligent. Yet she carried a quiet strength in her, especially when it came to Zuko. They were practically inseparable."
The smile I felt curve was small, but genuine. Zuko's mother was so different from the war mongering Fire Nation. The only other woman that came to my mind in that regard was Sister Wei. "What happened to her?"
"The only thing I know is that she was banished the night before Fire Lord Azulon passed away. Zuko was only a child, then."
So she was banished as well. I looked at the path, my heart full of mixed emotions. Sympathy for Zuko. A strange kinship is losing a mother figure. Relief that his life before his exile wasn't always intense, and that his mother had tempered his inner fire. I sat quietly, my eyes drifting to the dying fire. In the embers, I pictured a young child version of Zuko sitting by his mother, who was looking at him with tender affection. This was followed by the memory of our eyes meeting during our tea exchange on the ship, and how we had discussed his banishment. He looked so gentle and seemingly sought my understanding. I had given it to him. We had exchanged a similar understanding today when our hands nearly touched over my staff.
"He thought about you, you know." Iroh's comment cut through my reflection. "One day, I heard him say 'I hope Gitan is okay'."
My cheeks turned hot at the thought. The pity I felt was twisting into a strange, fluttering feeling that was exhilarating but also terrifying. "I…well, I don't think I ever told Aang or his friends this, but…I thought about him, too."
Iroh chuckled deeply. "The connection you both formed on his ship was a strong one. When you were captured by Zhao, he was incredibly restless. I was surprised that he didn't confront Zhao to demand your whereabouts, even more so when I learned that after rescuing you, he let you go as opposed to taking you with him to find the Avatar." He gave me a knowing glance. "He's never felt so much for anyone before."
I practically jolted from my position. Was Iroh implying what I thought he was? My heart has thumping rapidly against my chest. I exhaled, trying to calm the swirling storm in my chest. Despite Aang, despite the war, was it possible? Everything suddenly felt hot, too hot. I stood up weakly.
"I…I need some fresh air. I won't be long."
