AtLA fic: Airbender's Child: Fire 1/15
Disclaimer: I don't own anything in this story, in fact a lot of the dialogue will probably be cadged straight from the show itself, which means I own even less.
Author's Notes: Okay, these are going to be kind of in line with the Fire season episodes, if only so that I can have a handle on when we are, but without the gang's adventures to sort of mark time with, they may feel very divorced from the series. Also, I'm kind of trying to do a bunch of things in this chapter with no framework to hang them off of, so feel free to tell me if it feels fragmented. It's supposed to, a little, but I don't want to cause anyone metaphorical whiplash.
Upon arriving back home, Zuko found himself feeling like a stranger in his own home. It was crazy, and all he could think was that his illness had messed up something in his head to make him feel this way. As they all stood on the balcony overlooking the city, the balcony used for making speeches to the unwashed masses, Zuko felt uncomfortable. Annoyed with himself, he shook it off, telling himself that it was just that he'd never been a focus of one of these announcements before. Until now, his father and everyone else had basically brushed right past him at these events.
It was just stage fright. That was all it was, and it was beneath him, as a prince of the Fire Nation, to have stage fright. So he stiffened his back and tried to look emotionless, even if he couldn't look regal.
"Your Princess Azula, clever and beautiful, disguised herself as the enemy and entered the Earth Kingdom's capital. In Ba Sing Se she and her brother, Zuko faced the Avatar. And the Avatar fell, and the Earth Kingdom fell." Li and Lo, as the two scary old witches usually did, bounced their words back and forth. Zuko absently wondered if they practiced like he and-
What?
He shook his head slightly. What was he thinking?
"Azula's agents quickly overtook the entire city. They went to Ba Sing Se's Great Walls, and brought them down!" He'd had to sternly suppress his sympathy for the people of the city as that had happened. The inhabitants had been living a lie, told that there was no war going on outside Ba Sing Se, and the refugees had thought they were safe. The blind terror and the mothers clutching their children had been hard to watch. He'd only dared to say something to Mai, who had given him an absolutely freezing look and asked if he was truly feeling sympathy for the mud monkeys that made up the Earth Kingdom.
A five-year-old girl had screamed as her father, trying to keep soldiers out of their hovel-like home in the Lower Ring, was blasted backwards by the stone fists of the Dai Li, hitting the wall and slumping to the ground with blood trickling from his nose and mouth.
Zuko had taken a deep breath and turned his back on the chaos telling her that he didn't. For the rest of that day, every time he closed his eyes, he saw that tearstained little face pleading with her daddy to be okay. It was still haunting his tangled dreams, but he didn't dare to say anything to anyone now. Clearly there was just something wrong with him.
He refocused, realising he'd missed some of the speech, when he heard the two witches shout, "And proving his strength and courage to our nation, your prince, Zuko!"
He stepped forward, not bothering to try smiling, knowing the effort would be weak, at best, and instead just kept his face blank. It was safer than playing to the crowd. Especially while was distracted by trying not to clutch at his head to keep the images from overwhelming him.
And it was very overwhelming. The crowds, the noise, the smells and sights all added up to a cacophony of sensation that left him feeling breathless and a little queasy. Azula said into his ear, "It's quite something, isn't it, Zuzu."
"Don't call me that," he snapped. "Maybe I'm not worth your respect Azula, but I don't see how it helps the appearance of the royal family if you insist on publicly treating me like a particularly slow five-year-old."
She blinked. "But it's what I always call you, big brother."
"You don't care in the slightest that I'm your brother, Azula," he replied irritably. The whole scene of idiotic pandering to people who wanted big displays to prove the royal family were great leaders, rather than good policy, was leaving him a headache. "So just stop it. No one believes you care about me at all, except them," he jerked his head slightly in the direction of the still-cheering crowd, "And they won't if you insist on making me out to be the waste of space we all know I am."
The pain that had been a sort of generalised haze in his head spiked, and he abruptly turned on his heel and left for his rooms before he collapsed. He just barely made it past the guards and shut the door behind himself before he was on his knees, clutching at his temples, trying to keep his head from exploding.
Warm hands were clutching at him, holding him up and half carrying him to his bed. Something poked at his neck and back sharply and a little later the pain had eased enough that he was able to unball himself and open his eyes. Azula was sitting beside his bed, looking a little pale. "Why didn't you say anything about being sick, idiot?" she demanded. "I had to get Ty Lee in here to redistribute your chi. Something's got it blocked up strangely."
The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. "Since when do you care, Azula?"
"Well . . . I . . . it doesn't look at that good if I can't even notice my own brother's got some sort of debilitating illness, does it?" she asked.
Zuko shook himself. Where was all this animosity coming from? Azula cared. She'd always helped him try to prove himself to father. It was his own failings that meant he hadn't. "I'm sorry. I just . . . I'm not myself right now."
"No," she said, looking at him oddly. "I suppose you're not." She left him there, going off to do whatever it was she had to do. Azula had duties after all. Unlike him, the useless one.
His head still hurt a lot, so he stayed on the bed, preferring the stillness and solitude he could have there, than the risk of the pain spiking again. He dozed for a while, strange dreams slipping in and out of his mind.
There were three teenagers. The oldest boy spoke. "We're on a mountain with a crazy guy who thinks there are airbenders at the South Pole and in the Fire Nation of all places?"
"It means," the youngest of the three said, "That airbenders survived." He grinned happily. Eagerly he asked, "What do you mean by enclaves? Are there a lot? Are you an airbender? Why isn't anyone else here?"
"Aang," said the girl. "Just because the airbenders survived doesn't mean they're anything like they were before. He was angry because you were showing you're an airbender. It means it's probably really dangerous to do that."
Zuko's eyes flickered open, focussing on his room. The snippet of dream felt so real he had to reassure himself he was at home not at . . . where had that been, anyhow? It felt so familiar; he must have been there before.
"My frogs! Come back! And stop thawing out!" The boy, Zuko now recognised him as the Avatar, was scooping the half-thawed frogs up and trying to stuff them into his shirt.
"I really don't want to know," Zuko told him as he grabbed the Avatar by the scruff of the neck and started towing him away.
The Avatar looked at him anxiously, "But the herbalist said Sokka and Katara need to suck on them!"
"The . . . I still don't want to know," Zuko informed him. "Look. We're escaping right now. We'll get more frogs on the way back. Do you really think those frogs will still be frozen by the time we get to Katara and Sokka again anyhow?"
"I . . . I guess not," the boy said. "But shouldn't we pick them up? I mean, won't people think it's weird?"
"This from the guy who just said his friends need to suck on frogs," Zuko muttered back.
He was actually grateful when Mai prodded him awake. His mind was going to strange places. "Mai. What are you doing in here?" he asked.
She raised an eyebrow at him. "I came to check on my boyfriend. Sorry I didn't realise I'd be unwelcome." She started to get up, and Zuko grabbed her hand, wanting the distraction from his dreams.
"No, stay. Please," he said. "I just . . . I thought you'd be looking for something more interesting than me to pass the time."
She blinked, then said, "You're not boring, Zuko." There was a pause. "Well, not all the time, anyhow."
A smile stretched over his lips. "When am I not boring?" he asked, sitting up fully.
"Well," she said, smiling back, "You could be not-boring now."
"How's that?" he asked, leaning in closer.
Her face was inches from his as she breathed, "Like this," and then kissed him. It was warm and pleasant, and Zuko relaxed, letting himself stop thinking for a while. This was where he belonged. In the palace, with his girlfriend, father and sister. Everything was absolutely fine.
Mai let him hold her hand on the walk to dinner. It was a pleasant meal, for all that Azula was distracted by something, and Zuko relaxed, comfortable in the knowledge that he'd done well enough in Ba Sing Se his father ought to have nothing bad to say on the matter and everything was right in the world.
He was sitting by the turtle duck pond when suddenly the ducks alarmed, swimming off with a great ruffling of feathers. "You seem in a good mood," Azula observed.
Zuko turned to look at her, smiling. "I am. I'm home, I've got a wonderful girlfriend and I finally did something right enough that father shouldn't be angry with me. I was there to help you take the Avatar down," he said. "Why shouldn't I be happy?"
"Time was, you would have wanted someone to acknowledge that you were the one who personally led the troops to victory," Azula said. She looked a little disturbed.
"Time was," he told her, a little sharply, "I hadn't realised that I'm not cut out to be in charge," Zuko said. Why was she bringing this up? She'd always been the first to remind him he wasn't capable, and Azula was always right. "Acceptance brings peace. Or something like that," he told her.
Now she looked very perturbed. "You're not even going to try?" she asked, sounding quite upset.
"You're the one father wants on the throne after him," he reminded her, feeling his peace slipping away. "You're the one who always told me it should be you, not me. I've finally accepted that I'm just . . ." he trailed off, not even sure where he was going. "The point is, it doesn't matter if I was the one on the field, you were the one with the plan, you executed the plan, you brought the Avatar down, and all I did, with my substandard bending, was keep some little girl waterbender from being an unnecessary distraction."
Azula looked . . . sad. As though he'd said something . . . wrong. "Well," she said, clearly shaking off whatever mood she was in, "I've spoken to father, and I think he's quite pleased with you."
He felt pathetically eager as his head came up. "You think?" he asked.
His sister smiled at him. "I do," she said.
Still, the whole conversation was unsettling. Zuko was particularly worried because she had been acting so unlike herself. He crept after her, sneaking down hallways, staying out of sight and in the shadows. Azula left, making her way out of the palace, through the streets, eventually winding up at the prison where that woman who looked like her was housed.
Security on the way in was incredibly lax, and Zuko, feeling an odd sense of deja vu, was able to sneak in after her without alerting the guards. He was right, it turned out. Azula was visiting her doppelganger, and Zuko found a nook, close to the ceiling nearby, where he could perch reasonably comfortably, hear everything and stay out of sight.
" . . . Mother didn't care about either of you," the woman was saying as Zuko settled into his nook. "I know for a fact she didn't care a bit about Zuko. I was too blind to see it then, but she treated him like dirt. You were lucky, in a way. At least you could turn to your father for something."
"She was always petting him, always spoiling him," Azula said bitterly. "What do you know? She called me a monster."
Were they talking about his mother? Zuko shifted a little, hoping to get a better angle, maybe a decent view of one of them. He missed his grip, slipped, and landed hard at Azula's feet. "Ow."
"Zuko?" chorused two voices so alike, they almost sounded like one person speaking alone.
The woman in the cell looked at him, urgently. "Zuko, listen to me. I know you won't believe me, but you have to think. This isn't right, and you know it."
Azula sneered. "What's not right is that you're trying to convince him that things aren't the way they are. We're done here."
"I'll see you again, little sister," said the woman. "I . . . I'm sorry I haven't been there for you."
"Just stop talking," Azula snapped, grabbed Zuko's arm and dragged him off. "What were you doing?" she demanded.
"You've been acting oddly ever since we got back," he told her. "I'm not allowed to wonder what's going on? What's she been telling you?"
"Nothing," his sister said in irritation. "Just . . . ah! Nevermind! Father wanted to see you later. I was going to tell you when I got back."
He was towed to the palace, changed into clothes appropriate to go before the Fire Lord in, and found himself kneeling before his father. "I see your sister's efforts have . . . improved your disposition," the man said. "I am very . . . pleased, to hear of your actions in Ba Sing Se, my son. Perhaps you truly are worthy to be my son."
"Thank you, father," Zuko said.
"You may rise, Prince Zuko," said the Fire Lord. Zuko stood and looked his sire in the eye. "I expect to hear more good news of you."
"I will do my best, my Lord."
He was dismissed, but that interview capped the end of the day that ruined the good mood he'd had since he and Mai had made out in his bedroom that afternoon. By the time he went to bed that night, his headache had returned with a vengeance. He crawled under the covers, hoping that a good night's sleep would remedy the issue and he could get through the next day without drama or pain.
When he flipped over to look out the window, he was nearly startled out of his skin by an enormous white and grey animal head looking into his room. With a yell of shock, he tried to back away and get into a defensive position, wound up tangled in his bedclothes and only managed to fall out of the bed, slamming his already painful head into a small bedside table.
"Your highness!" several guards burst into the room. Naturally, there was nothing in the window.
Zuko just barely managed to get himself detangled before they noticed him, so that he wouldn't look like a complete idiot. "I am still suffering from the aftereffects of an illness I picked up in Ba Sing Se," he explained. "The nightmares are . . . disturbing," Zuko said. "I apologise for the false alarm."
Only mostly like an idiot.
The guards left, and Zuko sighed, sitting on the edge of his bed. Was he going crazy?
Prologue Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven Part Twelve Part Thirteen Part Fourteen Part Fifteen
Go to the AtLA Archive Page