#it's about zuko waking up to an empty room and an empty palace and thinking | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

m1ckeyb3rry · 1 month

Text

── THE GLASS PRINCESS // FIFTEEN

Series Synopsis: You wake up in a strange room with no memories, broken glass at your bedside, and a prince named Zuko as your only chance at figuring out who you really are.

Chapter Synopsis: You return to the palace and attempt to tell your brother the truth of the world.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Zuko x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5.6k

Content Warnings: complicated relationships (strangers to friends to lovers to enemies to strangers to lovers to enemies to lovers), amnesia, alternate universe, lots of secrets and lying and mystery

A/N: man i’m really going to miss this arc of the story…vibes have been unmatched so far (ba sing se era >> ursa era imo even if the underlying mystery of the ursa era was rlly fun to write)

“Sokka!” you shouted, kicking the front door. You knew the Avatar’s house was under near-constant surveillance by the Dai Li, and the longer you waited outside, the more likely it was that you’d be caught. Yet for some reason, your last three attempts at knocking politely had proven fruitless, and even this more violent greeting went unanswered. Giving up and ramming your shoulder into the doorway, you flinched when it swung open eerily and without protest.

Why was the villa empty? It didn’t look like it had been abandoned in a methodical fashion; a set of clothes you assumed were Katara’s was tossed over a chair, and there were dishes in the sink. All of this spoke to a hasty exit, one that might not have been entirely willing and was certainly made without an advance warning.

From the corner, there was a chittering sound, and you all but leapt out of your skin before realizing it was a tiny, fluffy creature. Stooping down, you recognized it to be a winged lemur, staring at you with wide viridian eyes. You offered it your hand with a smile, but it only sniffed it delicately before skittering backwards, leaping around a corner and then poking its head back like it was hoping you’d follow.

“What is going on?” you muttered to yourself, deciding you might as well follow the shy animal. It made a cooing noise at you, nudging you with its small, wet nose as you reached the room it was waiting for you in. Once it had ascertained that you were safely with it, it leapt onto your shoulder, nipping your ear when you tried to leave.

You were about to chide it for the rude behavior when you heard the front door creak open. Biting your tongue, you pressed your back to the wall by the door, peering through the crack at the new visitors. Based on the winged lemur’s behavior and your own intuition, it wasn’t the Avatar or any of his friends, and your stomach dropped as you saw men wearing the familiar Dai Li uniform creeping into the villa.

“You really think the Avatar’s the one that kidnapped Princess Y/N?” one of them said.

“Who else could’ve killed Captain Chhay?” his partner said. “That man is a legend in the organization. Long Feng thinks that they kidnapped Princess Y/N so that they have some leverage to enter the palace.”

“Poor girl,” the first agent said with a chuckle. “She’s like a toy for the real political powers to play with.”

His partner scoffed. “Right? It’d be depressing if she actually cared, but she’s not exactly done anything to gain any kind of relevance in her kingdom.”

“Her and that brother of hers are making this far too easy.”

“Did you hear that the Lower Ring citizens rioted just from seeing her?”

“At this rate, a peasant uprising isn’t far off at all. The seeds for revolution have been sown, and as long as things continue in the way they have been, it won’t be long before the monarchy is done away with completely and Long Feng can finally, truly assume power.”

“Shh! What if they overhear you?”

“It’s fine. The Avatar and his friends are busy under Lake Laogai. This is only a cursory inspection. There’s no one around to hear us; when else can we discuss this type of thing?”

“I don’t know. You’re just stressing me out. How much longer do we have to stay here, anyways?”

“We have to check for Princess Y/N. Or, at least, pretend like we did.”

“Honestly, I’d say we’ve done our due diligence.”

The voices were growing closer, and you shoved your fist in your mouth to avoid making a sound, staring wide-eyed at the winged lemur, who did not even blink as it returned your panicked gaze with a steady one of its own.

“True. Who really cares if she lives or dies? It’s all the same to our plans.”

“If she dies, though, people might feel some sympathy for the royal family.”

“Nah, just think about it: as long as we can blame the Avatar and his friends for killing her, then we not only get rid of one of the royal family members, we also shake the public’s faith in the Avatar. It’s actually for the best if we don’t find her.”

“You’re right!”

They were right outside the room now. If they took another step and turned, they would see you. You shrank back even more, wishing you could melt into the shadows, meld with the wall, hide in some way that would ensure they never caught wind of you.

“Let’s just go, then.”

“Wait, what if she isn’t dead, though? If she escapes and comes back to the palace, it’ll make us look horrible.”

They took that step, but still they did not turn. You shivered, wanting to squeeze your eyes shut but knowing you could not be caught off guard in case they saw you.

“If she comes back, we can let Long Feng deal with it. She’s been a real pain in his neck, you know? If Captain Chhay were still around, he’d probably be sent after her by this point.”

One of the agents clicked his tongue. “Good old Chhay. I’d never have said it while he was still around, but he was like a polar bear dog. Who else would be that loyal to a person?”

“I don’t know. Rumor has it that Long Feng paid him twice the regular salary. I’d be loyal too, for that kind of money.”

They retreated from the room, and you let go of the breath you had been holding, patting the winged lemur on the head, though you were still careful to be silent.

“That so?”

“Maybe one of us will be promoted to take his place now that he’s gone.”

“Now you’re talking!”

The door to the villa slammed shut behind them, leaving you and the winged lemur alone. You buried your face in your hands, breathing in quick, short gasps, gritting your teeth as you tried to regain your composure.

It went deeper than you realized. This wasn’t just incompetency or confusion — the Dai Li were planning on utilizing the citizens of Ba Sing Se for their own means, using them to overthrow the current government and then instating Long Feng as, ostensibly, a dictator. It was only your own fortune — you were still unsure whether that fortune could be considered good or bad — that you had overheard their plot, but what now?

You were presumed to be dead. At first, this horrified you, but as you thought about it, there was a definite bonus. The Dai Li’s efforts would be focused on the Avatar and his friends, and if you were considered a vanished non-issue, then there would be no eyes scanning the city for you. It left you free to operate as you wanted, given that you employed a modicum of caution.

Digging through the wardrobe of the room you were in, which upon investigation revealed itself to most likely be Katara’s, you pulled out a scarf and wrapped it around your neck and head. Though it did nothing about your stained dress, it concealed your identity well enough that you felt more comfortable walking outside than you had before.

“What about you?” you said to the winged lemur, scratching it behind its enormous ears. “You saved my life, I’m pretty sure. Thank you for that. Where will you go now?”

The winged lemur purred at you, rubbing its cheek against your own and tightening its grip on your shoulder. You giggled and rubbed its forehead.

“Alright, then. You can help me. Come along, but be prepared; it might be dangerous. I don’t think there’s time to rendezvous with the Avatar. I’ll have to storm my own palace and demand to see my brother myself,” you said, squaring your shoulders, finding some irony in the fact that you had finally been given leave to live your life how you wanted and yet you were returning to the very place you had tried so desperately, for so many years, to run from.

After all, if Princess Y/N was considered dead, then that meant you could live in disguise and become someone else. You could leave Ba Sing Se entirely and travel the world, see the sights you had thus far only ever read about. The capital of ice in the North Pole, the city of Omashu, which was commonly referred to as Ba Sing Se’s little sister…it was a possibility. There was no one stopping you anymore.

No one, of course, except for your own conscience. You could not leave when you knew that the Dai Li and Long Feng had killed your father and were planning on overthrowing your brother. You could not leave when your people, the ones who you had been born with a duty to, were being manipulated and taxed and abused by the ones that were meant to have their best interests at heart. And, though it was less grand of a reason, you could not leave the city where Lee was. Not without telling him first.

Though you knew the villa was located in the Upper Ring, it took you a moment to regain your bearings and find the palace. After all, it was far more difficult returning without one of Quynh’s doors to serve as a convenient portal or the Dai Li escorting you with their Earthbending. The sun was already high in the sky by the time you made it to the palace gates, but by the time you arrived, you found another problem facing you.

The royal military, which guarded the palace, was in complete disarray. It was as if a tornado had torn through them. Men were strewn about, staggering to their feet, while others used their own Earthbending to fix their formations. Was the palace under attack? Were you too late? Had Long Feng’s rebellion already begun?

“Who goes there?” a guard shouted at you. You did not respond, picking up your speed from a mere walk to a sprint, holding the scarf over your head so that it did not blow off as you ran. You could not know if you trusted the army or if they were in league with the Dai Li, and unless you were forced to, you did not want to reveal who you were.

“Hey! Answer us!” another guard said. You kept running towards the bridge over the moat. You just needed to cross that bridge, and from there, nothing could stop you. They must’ve had that same thought, though, as the stones of the bridge began to recede, leaving a gaping maw where you should’ve crossed.

Then the boulders began to fly. They weren’t trying to hit you, but they were blocking your path, making your entrance far more difficult. You used one hand to cover the winged lemur’s eyes from the dust pluming in front of you, squinting your own so that you were not blinded by it.

If you did not do something, then the guards would go from obstructive efforts to far more deadly methods. Earthbending against this quantity of offensive parties was a suicidal idea, especially when you were on the palace’s doorstep and there was a high chance you’d get caught, but there was one final card you could play, the one you had been unwilling to part with most of all.

Casting the scarf aside, you pointed at the guard who had been lifting another boulder into the air to throw at you. He paused mid-action, and then he pointed back at you, like he could not believe his eyes.

“I am Princess Y/N of the Earth Kingdom, you fool, and what you are doing right now is treason! If you throw even a pebble more at me, I’ll have you hanged!” you said.

“Princess Y/N?” the guard said, the boulder thudding to the ground before him as he dropped into a bow. “We were under the impression that you were — that you were dead!”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Reform that bridge at once,” you said. “Did you think that a girl of Shan’s line could be killed that easily? Perhaps I must remind you: I am the princess. As long as my people need me, I cannot die.”

After that, you walked unchallenged towards the steps leading up to the palace. It confirmed one thing, at least: the army was not allied with the Dai Li. If it was, then you would’ve been seized by now and dragged to Long Feng, but all that the soldiers did was shy away when you stalked past, giving you looks that were equal parts questioning and awed, like they could not quite believe that the shy, delicate little princess was capable of such feats.

It was only a matter of time before the Dai Li caught wind of your presence, if they had not already. You had to make it to the throne room by then. At least for now, they were limited in what they could do while Kuei was watching, for he was still the supreme authority of the kingdom. Now that you had gone and announced who you were, they ought to have done everything they could’ve to stop you, but curiously, there was no one that came to block your path.

Even stranger, the route to the throne room was torn apart and devoid of guards. There had clearly been a fight, but who had broken into the palace and managed to overtake it so quickly?

The walls were crumbling, and entire pillars had been torn in half. There were scuff marks on the carpet, and the stone floors glittered with dampness — it had obviously been a massacre. For the first time, you felt like you actually fit in, your ragged appearance matching the ruined entrance hall perfectly.

“I don’t know if I can trust you,” Kuei’s voice drifted out from the throne room, the door to which was, for some reason, lying on the ground. “I’m sorry, but you have no proof. I’ll have to trust my advisors on this one. Long Feng, what do you say of their claims?”

“Do you think that I could’ve hid a hundred years of war from you?” Long Feng said, his voice cold and flat. “What’s more, I’ve received some disturbing news. It seems that the Dai Li found evidence that the Avatar and his friends were involved in the murder of Captain Chhay, as well as your sister’s abduction.”

“What?” Kuei said.

“What is he talking about?” Katara said.

“I’m an Air Nomad! Killing is against my morals!” Aang said.

“Look, we didn’t kidnap or murder anyone! You have to believe us,” Sokka said. “About that, and about the war. I don’t know why your advisor is lying about all of this, but you have to see through it!”

“Even from the Avatar, this kind of situation is just too fantastical. I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to arrest you, at least until Y/N is found and Captain Chhay’s murderer is apprehended,” Kuei said.

“You don’t have to look any further,” you said, pausing in the doorway to catch your breath, hunched over as you wheezed from how much you had pushed yourself. The winged lemur jumped from your shoulder and scampered over to Aang, who made a small noise of surprise at the arrival. “I’m here.”

“Y/N?” Kuei said.

“Your royal highness?” Long Feng said, his innocence clearly feigned, though his surprise likely wasn’t. You glared at him, regaining your composure and straightening before taking the same place as always: below the throne, staring up at those who would always be above you. Your brother, the king. Long Feng, the traitor. You were beneath them both, but this time, you did not allow either of them to intimidate you.

“Where have you been, sister?” Kuei said. “We thought the worst must’ve happened! The servants came in the morning, and all they found was Captain Chhay’s long-dead body. You were gone. Who took you? Did they hurt you?”

“Clearly the princess has been through a horrible ordeal, your majesty,” Long Feng said. “Look at her dress. She needs time to rest and recover from what was no doubt a most harrowing encounter.”

“I’m fine,” you said. “There was nothing harrowing about it. He didn’t even have time to fight back.”

“Of course, you must’ve managed to escape somehow, and thank Quynh for that,” Long Feng said. “But just the mere experience of being kidnapped would’ve been traumatic. Poor princess…I will assign thrice the Dai Li agents to look after you, so that you may rest in peace.”

“I didn’t have to escape, and I wasn’t kidnapped,” you said. “This kind of conduct can be expected of my brother, but I know at least you are smarter than this, Long Feng. In fact, I know a lot of things about you now.”

“No,” Long Feng said.

“Yes,” you said. “You understand, don’t you? I killed him. I killed Captain Chhay.”

Kuei shrieked. “What?”

“It’s true,” you said. “I did it.”

“No way,” Toph said from behind you. “I think I respect you a lot more now.”

“Toph!” Katara hissed.

“Dai Li, seize her at once!” Long Feng said, gesturing towards you impatiently.

“Y/N…how? How did you do that?” Kuei said. “How did you murder someone? No, not just someone — the Captain of the Dai Li himself!”

“Does it matter?” you said as earthen cuffs bound your wrists behind your back once again. “The more important question is why. That’s what you should really want to know.”

“Take her to her chambers and ensure she does not leave!” Long Feng said.

“Why did I do it? What cause could your dear sister have to kill a man? Ask!” you said.

“We will decide what to do with you after we have gotten rid of the Avatar and his friends,” Long Feng said.

“Kuei!” you said. Putting him in this position was the worst thing you had ever done to him, but it was necessary. He had to seek out the information, or else he’d cover his ears and hide away as he always did.

His eyes swam with emotions you doubted he had ever been exposed to before, a veritable maelstrom of thoughts and questions and feelings that he likely did not even know how to handle. Dai Li agents appeared at your shoulders, but you did not take your eyes off of your brother. Your brother, who loved you. Your brother, who was the only family you knew. Your brother, who was the Earth King, the supreme authority in all the kingdom. You looked only at him, and you waited.

“Stop! Release her!” he said. The Dai Li hesitated, but though their loyalty might have been to Long Feng, they still had to abide by Kuei’s commands above all else. The stone restraints crumbled away, and the agents bowed before stepping away from you. “Why did you do it, Y/N?”

“Because Captain Chhay killed our father,” you said. “And he did it on Long Feng’s command.”

“What?” Sokka said.

“This is so complicated,” Aang said. Sokka hummed in agreement.

“That — you cannot just accuse people of regicide without proof!” Long Feng said.

“You sent Captain Chhay after me. He tried to kill me multiple times in Ba Sing Se alone. That’s proof enough! He was your little pet, wasn’t he? It’s what your own agents called him, after all. The beast of the Dai Li, sent to do Long Feng’s bidding. Who else but he would’ve been the one to kill the 51st Earth King?” you said.

“You’re being ridiculous! What motivation would I have to assassinate your father?” Long Feng said.

“Stewardship over the Earth Kingdom isn’t a bad prize,” you said. “Though I’ll admit that luck did play a role. After all, if our mother hadn’t died as well, then she’d be Kuei’s regent.”

“What, did he kill her, too?” Sokka said. “This dude just keeps getting eviler and eviler.”

“No, he — actually, wait,” you said. There was no proof, but for some reason, you didn’t find it too far out of the realm of plausibility. “There’s a chance, though I don’t have any proof for that claim as of right now.”

“You’re going on and on about nothing,” Long Feng said. “I’m not the ruler of the Earth Kingdom. Your brother is.”

“Yet he only implements policies that you approve of,” you said. “Policies which, if I might add, are deliberately harming our people! You’re sabotaging his reign so that our family is overthrown for good. You mean to usurp Kuei, and don’t even try to deny it — I overheard your agents discussing it, and, more importantly, I’ve seen the effects of your suggestions firsthand.

“The only city safe from the war charging exorbitant prices to those refugees which try to enter…thank goodness for that unnamed noblewoman allowing passage through the second southeast gate, right? I won’t speculate about her identity, but I’ll give you a hint: she’s someone you’d recognize.”

“You little wench,” Long Feng said. “You wasted your own money on that? I should’ve known.”

“That’s not all. You refuse to acknowledge the disparity between Upper and Lower Ring citizens, and the Dai Li are closer to terrorists than officers of justice. The people of Ba Sing Se are frightened to speak out about anything, because the Dai Li is always watching. No wonder they hate Kuei and I. No wonder they riot in the streets! But that’s exactly what you planned,” you spat. “Because once they revolt, you will pretend to be on their side and then use the same structures you claim to be against to strengthen your power, your grip on this nation. Kuei and I might be uneducated about the reality of this world and its wars, but at least we care about our people! Can you even claim that much? What sort of an advisor are you?”

“Continuing to speak will only incriminate you further,” Long Feng said. “You have gone mad, princess. There’s no other explanation for why you killed the captain meant to protect you, or for why you are saying such things. They are the ravings of a lunatic! King Kuei, I recommend she be arrested and sent to a correctional facility equipped to handle her case at once.”

You had said all you needed to, and so you just pursed your lips and ducked your head. Your part was done; now, it was up to Kuei to do what was right. If he did not make the proper choice now, then it was hopeless. Then they could take you wherever they wanted, because you could not fight back against your own flesh and blood.

“Dai Li, arrest—” You could not help your shoulders from slumping at Kuei’s declaration. Despite everything, it had not been enough. He still did not have any faith in you. “—Long Feng!”

“What? Your royal majesty, what is the meaning of this?” Long Feng said as the Dai Li agents saluted at Kuei before clicking a pair of metal handcuffs around Long Feng’s wrists.

“Did you really think I’d believe you over Y/N? Did you really think that there’s anyone in the world who I value more than her? It would’ve been more suitable for you to pretend like you actually cared about her. I might’ve been more inclined to agree with you then, but no matter your station, if you dare to speak against my dear sister like that, then you must face the harshest of repercussions,” Kuei said, standing and drawing himself to his full height.

“Kuei?” you said softly. You had never thought that he would be the one who would do something like this. Never in your wildest dreams had you imagined that he would stand up for himself, for you, to this extent. Yet here he was, doing exactly that.

“You are making a mistake! If you do this, you will be remembered as a foolish, empty-minded despot who used his power to rid the kingdom of any who dared to criticize his family,” Long Feng said. “You will be remembered as a tyrant. I swear it to be so!”

“That’s fine,” Kuei said. “They can remember me as a tyrant if that is what they will — as long as I am remembered as a tyrant who loved his sister. Agents, please, take him away at once! I’ve had enough of listening to him. I think it’s time that I take counsel from more qualified parties.”

“You’ll regret this,” Long Feng said over his shoulder. “I can assure you of that!”

“And you’ll regret killing my father,” Kuei said. “I can assure you of that.”

“I didn’t think he had it in him,” Sokka mused, earning him a snort of approval from Toph.

“Are you finally willing to listen to us?” Aang said. Kuei massaged his temples.

“Yes, I am. What’s this talk of war? Who are we at war with?” he said.

“The Fire Nation,” Katara said. “They attacked a hundred years ago. They killed all of the Air Nomads and have been steadily invading the Earth Kingdom; Ba Sing Se is the only place that’s still completely safe from their influence.”

“Because of the walls?” Kuei said.

“Yes, exactly. They haven’t managed to break through yet, which is why so many refugees have been coming here — most of them have lost their homes, and Ba Sing Se is the last hope they have at making new lives,” Aang said.

“The Fire Nation is that strong?” you said.

“That strong, and that dedicated. You know, their prince chased us all of the way here!” Katara said.

“For what reason?” you said.

“Something about capturing the Avatar and restoring his honor, I think,” Sokka said. “I’m not really sure. But! We have a way to defeat them, as long as you lend us your support.”

“We’ll do whatever we can,” Kuei said. “Right, Y/N?”

“Of course,” you said. Without Long Feng there to guide him, Kuei was like a baby animal whose legs were still wobbly and eyes were still barely opened. It would take time before he could stand on his own; until then, he needed someone who he could rely on, someone who could reassure him that he was doing the right thing. And since you’d rather that person be you than anyone more unsavory, you took the role upon yourself with as much grace as you could muster.

“The day of the black sun is coming up,” Sokka said. “The sun will disappear behind the moon for a window of time, and all Firebenders will lose their power. We have to strike them while they can’t fight back. That’s what we need your armies for — while they take care of the Fire Nation forces, Aang and a small task force will infiltrate the palace directly and defeat Fire Lord Ozai for good.”

Kuei glanced at you. You nodded. If they were telling the truth and this day of the black sun was a real event, then it was probably the best chance you had at turning the tides of a war that you had thus far been losing.

“Say, Katara,” you said as you walked her and Toph to the guest rooms they’d be staying in after they had finished briefing you. “Earlier, you mentioned a Prince Zuko and a Princess Azula. What are they like?”

You were fascinated by the thought that there was another pair of siblings not too dissimilar to you and Kuei, albeit younger, of course. Another pair of siblings who bore the burden of a crown. Another pair of siblings who had the weight of a nation looming over them. Would they understand the sense of duty which prevailed in you? The patriotism, the love for your subjects? You would likely never get to meet them and ask, considering you and they were on opposite sides of a war, so you settled for this, for learning about them through Katara’s words.

“They’re the worst of the worst,” Katara said.

“It’s true. They’re pretty crazy,” Toph said. “Though their uncle isn’t that bad!”

“Maybe you shouldn’t say that, considering he did lay siege to her city for six hundred days,” Katara said. “And not too long ago. I mean, it happened in our lifetime.”

It was almost a credit to Long Feng’s dedication, you thought, that he had even managed to hide such a long siege from you and your brother. The fact that Ba Sing Se had been under attack for two of your years of living and yet you had not known a thing about it was actually impressive, if not unfortunate.

“Oh, yeah. Forgot about that,” Toph said. “He’s pretty nice otherwise, though.”

“Naturally,” you said, bemused.

“We don’t know much about Azula, except that she’s Zuko’s sister and the princess of the Fire Nation, but Zuko’s been on our tail pretty much since Sokka and I found Aang in that iceberg. Apparently, he was banished or something, and the only way he can regain his honor is if he captures the Avatar. That’s what we’ve put together from his random speeches and consistent efforts, anyways,” Katara said.

“Although, we haven’t seen him in a bit,” Toph said. “Maybe he’s settled down somewhere.”

“Or he’s in disguise,” you offered. “You could’ve seen him and not even realized who he truly was.”

Katara shook her head. “No, he’s pretty distinctive looking. He has the giant burn scar covering the left half of his face — it makes him hard to miss. If we had seen him, we would’ve known.”

Your mind blanked, your stomach churning as you tried to process what she had just said. Burn scar. Left half of his face. Where else had you seen that distinctive mark before? You didn’t want to recall, but you did.

“Does he really?” you said to Toph.

“I dunno,” Toph said. “I’m blind.”

“Ah, right,” you said.

“Like I said when we first met, though, I can tell when people are lying, and she’s not. I don’t see what the reason to lie about that would even be,” Toph said. “It’s kind of a really specific thing to make up.”

“I’m telling the truth,” Katara affirmed. “Why, what’s wrong? I guess it’s kind of weird for the prince of the Fire Nation to be have a burn wound, but it was probably a training accident or something.”

“Oh, no,” you said. “Oh, no, no, no!”

“What’s wrong?” Katara said.

You did not want to listen to them, but if they were telling the truth, and you knew in your heart of hearts that they were, then that meant only one thing: Prince Zuko hadn’t settled down. He hadn’t given up on his chase or his war. He had moved on to more strategic maneuvers, that was all. Stealth instead of strength. Infiltration instead of invasion.

“He’s here,” you said, stopping and gripping her shoulders. She blinked at you, her blue eyes wide with uncertainty. “Katara, listen to me. All of you need to leave Ba Sing Se at once. If he gets his hands on Aang, then there’s no chance of our plans succeeding.”

“Huh? What’re you talking about?” Toph said.

“Prince Zuko’s here,” you said. “In Ba Sing Se, under an alias. I’ve seen him. I’ve met him. If the Avatar is his end goal, then the Avatar must leave as soon as possible. It’s not safe here.”

“But isn’t the Earth Palace the safest place in the world? There’s no way he can get past all of those guards all by himself,” Toph said. “He’s not that good of a bender, I’m pretty sure.”

You groaned. “No, he can get in. Anytime he wants.”

“How?” Katara said.

“It’s not important,” you said, too ashamed to admit your mistake. “Look, I trusted you all, didn’t I? Now you must trust me.”

Katara seemed uncertain, but Toph nodded at you, her expression set.

“We’ll just leave early,” she said. “I’ll go see my mother, Katara and Sokka will meet up with their father, and Aang can go visit that guru. Hopefully, by the time we’re finished with those errands, things will be dealt with.”

“I am sure it will not be a problem,” you said. “But just in case, you probably should not return to the capital. Unless Kuei or I appear before you ourselves, it would befit you to assume that any summons are deceptive in nature.”

“Are you sure about this?” Katara said. “If it really is Zuko, then he must have some tricks up his sleeve. Will it be okay for us to leave you alone?”

“If Aang is killed or captured, then it will be many years before the next Avatar reaches the level of training necessary to face the Fire Lord,” you said. “It’s too great of a risk for you to stay when it’s all but confirmed that Prince Zuko is here. As for me, I have the might of the Earth Kingdom behind me. No matter what, I’ll be fine.”

“Odds are that he’ll leave Ba Sing Se once we do, too, so there won’t even be any danger to the palace,” Toph said. “Once we go our separate ways, he’ll have to split his forces up as well, so it’ll also then be easier for us to take him on.”

“There’s also that,” you said.

“You have a point,” Katara said. “Alright. Toph, go tell Aang to get Appa ready. I’ll get Sokka and catch him up.”

“Be safe,” you said.

“You too,” Katara said. Toph punched you in the arm.

“Stay sharp, princess. See you around,” she said. “You’re not as much of an idiot as you could be.”

“Thank you,” you said. “I look forward to seeing you all again — if not in Ba Sing Se, then in the Fire Nation, on the day of the black sun, when we finally bring about their downfall for good.”

taglist (comment/send an ask/dm to be added): @rinisfruity14 @c4ttheart @blacky-rose @shizko @marsbars09 @happyplaidpersonfestival @catborglar @camilleverreault @nerdybouquetofkittens-blog @lovialy @heart4hees @stefnarda @ioonatv @vvicaddiction @yukihatesreoyo @yodayyy

#zuko x reader #zuko x y/n #zuko x you #zuko #avatar the last airbender #atla #reader insert #canon au #the glass princess #m1ckeyb3rry writes

99 notes · View notes

unfriedough · 2 years

Text

‘Flour boy’- Zuko x female!reader

Masterlist <3

An: HIYA! *gives piece she started a year ago* muah <3

Summary:

Yn is a baker at the royal palace, and Zuko just wants fruit tarts. Chaos ensues.

Warnings: arguments, Zuko is an idiot.

After a long night at the kitchen, you decided to dismiss the other staff. The fire lord usually doesn’t ask for food at 12 am, so their leave was permitted.

“Bye Yn!” Jin yelled to you.

“Bye!” You replied a bit late, being so tired from all the chaos of the day, so only the empty room heard you.

Sighing, you put back any ingredients and bowls that were left around. About an hour had passed before you were done. Carefully, you left the kitchen and headed to your quarters.

You awoke at some random hour of the night, looking around your room, trying to find out what woke you up. Then you heard another crash. Your eyebrows furrowed when you realised the source of the unknown ruckus was the kitchen. Quickly, you jumped out of bed and ran to the room. This intruder won’t be getting away with stealing. A knife in hand, you pushed the large doors and frantically looked around. Once you had located the target, who was covered head to toe in flour, you asked them one question:

“What are you doing in my kitchen?”

“Uhh see I-”

The figure cut themselves off as you neared, weapons held up defensively. Then, you noticed the damage, half of the platter of fruit tarts was gone! You dropped your knife and ran up to them, hand covering your gaping mouth.

“You ate them? You! What am I meant to do now? Present the firelord with half a batch of treats. You’re going to get me fired!” you started panicking whilst biting back tears at the thought of losing your beloved job.

“Actually I-”

“ZIP IT YOU CASPER LOOKING PAIN.”

His eyes widened in surprise as you ran around the kitchen, picking up an apron and tying it around your waist sloppily.

“You and I aren’t finished.” you waved your whisk accusingly as you passed him.

“I don’t think it’s necessary-” he pointed to the ingredients.

“Oh yeah me neither, I’d prefer to live on the streets, wouldn’t you?”

Again, your quick response caught him off guard, effectively silencing him. Another figure walked into the room.

“Yn, what on Earth are you doing?”

“Don’t worry about it, go back to bed, I already said you were dismissed.”

“Are you sure? I-I can help!”

“No, I can manage. Get your butt back to bed” You shot a playful smile.

“Uh, so not my help, but theirs?”

“Flour boy here isn’t helping, he’s my next hate crime.” you winked at Jin, your friend, and smiled maliciously at ‘Flour boy’.

‘Flour boy’ gulped.

“Well good luck buddy.” Jin snickered before leaving the kitchen.

“First, you wake me up, then you eat my fruit tarts, next you wake my staff up. You’ve got one hell of a day coming pal.”

You popped the fresh batch into the preheated oven, taking off your oven mitts and shifting your attention to the teenager (?) standing before you.

“Can you teach me?”

Your expression morphed from shock, to amusement, to laughter. You were grabbing your knees and wiping imaginary tears. Suddenly you went all serious.

“You’re hilarious,”

DING! The oven made a noise, stopping ‘Flour boy’ before he could speak. You bent over carefully, removing the treats from the machine and placing them on a counter. Then, you rapidly made your way to the pantry, grabbing fine sugar from one of the shelves. Back to the tarts, you sprinkled it lightly on every one of them, and placed them carefully on a plate. You smiled at your creation, and placed it on a cart. Finally done.

You turned your attention once again to ‘Flour boy’, who was eyeing the fruit tarts.

“They look amazing.”

“They’re not for you, hun” You smiled before reaching back for your knife, shoving it into your pocket.

Folding your arms, you eye’d the person.

“I’m sorry for eating the fruit tarts,”

A sigh fell from your lips.

“Not accepted Flour boy”

“I have a name you know.”

“I don’t care.”

“I think you might,”

“I’m not gonna listen to someone who is entirely encased in flour, Flour boy.” You laughed as you looked him up and down.

Colour rose to his cheeks and he darted out of the kitchen. You laughed as you watched the figure leave.

You walked back to your room, stumbling from tiredness. Once you reached your bed, you practically passed out.

3 hours of the night were slept by you. Safe to say, exhausted didn’t even begin to describe you, however you still had a job (no thanks to that idiot) to fulfil.

You got dressed in something that wasn’t your pyjamas, and made your way to the kitchens. You waved to the staff and began your day.

The boys™ POV:

“Sokka, why are we here again?”

“I wanna see if the shipment has any snacks.”

Zuko scoffed as he looked around the deck, which was now being unloaded. It was nice not being so easily recognised, since they were out of the professional outfits.

“Is it just flour?” Aang said, confused.

“Yeah Zuko why’d you just get flour.”

“I didn’t do anything? At Least, I don’t remember ordering a bunch of,” a servant passed by holding a bowl of flour. “Bowls? Of flour.”

“You’re weird.” Sokka shrugged.

“Why didn’t they ship it in boxes?” a voice said from far in front of them.

Zuko’s eyes immediately widened, he recognised who it belonged to - Yn.

He did not want to be recognised, and was definitely panicking.

Zuko stumbled on his words, trying to inform his friends they needed to leave. It was ineffective of course, but worth a shot. Eventually, Yn had gotten too close for comfort - what if she recognised his physique? He couldn’t take the chance. Quickly, he turned around, failing to notice Yn due to his overthinking - who was behind him leading the shipments. He slammed into her, flour jumping from the bowl laid in her hands and puffing into the air - successfully dusting both their faces.

Back to second person

You blinked twice comically, before your brows furrowed.

“CAN’T I CATCH A BREAK!”

“Hey that rhymed!” Sokka chimed in, getting ignored.

Zuko laughed nervously, his arm rubbing the back of his neck.

“How are you always covered in flour?”

“Luck.”

“Seems unlucky,” you smirked.

“Yeah well, it’s not my fault you were behind me.” he shrugged.

You gasped dramatically, flipping the bowl of flour onto his head.

“HUH?” Aang yelled - again ignored.

“So, your job?”

“Oh yeah. Phew! I was in the clear.” you smiled, before narrowing your eyes, “no thanks to you jerkface,”

“HEY YN CAN YOU STOP TERRORISING THEM AND HELP OUT,”

“COMING!” you replied, walking away quickly, sending a wink at Zuko.

–

That night, you stayed later in the kitchen, preparing yourself a snack. As you danced around happily, grabbing the sugar from the cabinets to top the cake you made - no special occasion, you just wanted a taste of home. Picking up the platter, you placed it on the island, sitting down. As you picked up your fork, you suddenly lost vision - someone turned off the lights. Hastily, you picked up your trusty pocket weapon, as well as an arm up in case you needed to bend - and carefully walked to the lightswitch.

“Actually, can you not?”

Your body jolted as you turned to see ‘flour boy’, a sigh escaping your shaky form.

“Man, what kind of entrance was that. Made me think I was gonna die.”

“Sorry,” he laughed, “I didn’t mean any harm.”

“Why’d you close the light anyways?”

“Don’t want you to recognise me,”

“Fair enough,” you shrugged, propping your elbows on the island.

Flour boy jumped up onto the table, sitting criss-cross like a child.

“So what brings you here.”

“I just wanted to talk I guess.”

“About…?”

“The firelord.”

Your body went back into fight or flight, was this an assassin? He was a damn stupid one then.

“It’s not what you think. It’s just - I’m new here.”

“What’s your job?”

“I’m a friend of his.”

“The fire lord has friends? Shocker.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Dunno. He seems… weird.”

“Weird how?”

“Well, I can’t really explain it - but he seems like he has no friends.”

“What?”

You laughed, relaxing again. You jumped onto the counter next to Flour boy, and swung your legs.

“I mean he’s like, too good to be true. Gives me weird vibes like- like somehow he’s secretly evil.”

“Aha,” he nodded, confused. “What about him is too good to be true?”

“This isn’t a slumber party.”

“I mean it could be.”

“Are you saying you want to sleep with me, flour boy?”

“Well- NO WAIT NOT LIKE THAT!”

“Wait here.” you jumped off the counter laughing and gave him a flour pack.

“It’s expired anyways - just do your thing so I can turn on the lights.”

So he poured it onto himself and you flicked the light on.

“Better.”

“Anyways,” he rolled his eyes, “I wanna know how his staff see him.”

“Hmm. He seems nice.”

“Nice?”

“The firelord’s always been a good man to us. I think. Plus he’s always so gentle and caring.” you said, lying down on the counter.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. But you know what’s the best thing about him?”

“His personality?”

“No try again.”

“His… Job?”

“How are you so dense, oh my god.”

“His humour?”

“Oh my god he’s funny too? Damn.”

“What is it then?”

“His face.”

Zuko flushed.

“He just has this complex, it’s like. I can’t explain it. He has this jaw, straight up looking like it was sculpted, and his eyes. I’ve only ever gotten a few looks but - he has these amber or brown eyes - can’t remember - I feel like I could get lost in them.” you smiled lovingly, before shaking your head.

You opened your mouth to say something, turning to Flour boy, only to see him staring at you. Your words got caught in your throat as you recognised his pupils, your jaw falling slack.

“No. way.”

“Hi.”

“You’re the firelord.” you said, more confirming to yourself than to him.

“I think your eyes are gorgeous,” he whispered.

He jumped off the counter and walked in front of you - a boost of confidence running through his veins. Zuko stood right in front of you.

Your hands rose and found placement on his face. The firelord leaned into your touch, which reminded you of a kitten - longing for affection. You brought your hands up to his flour filled hair, and lifted up to triangles on either side - resembling cat ears. Hearing you laugh, he opened his eyes, face scrunching at the sudden change in mood- why were you laughing?

“You’re still the same dork.” you smiled, resting your forehead against his.

“Hopefully your dork?”

“Keep flirting like that and I’ll fall in love with you.” you said, but before you could continue, you felt his lips on yours.

His muscled arms trailed up your back, before pulling you closer to him - on the exact tip of the counter. You clutched onto his hair, kissing back with so much passion. His lips moved perfectly in sync with yours, as you desperately begged for this moment to never end. Your lips parted, he leaned back to take a breath, throwing his head back. Your head slumped against his chest, feeling his whole torso rack as he let out a low laugh.

“Still a dork?” he said, looking up.

“The biggest in the world,” you grinned, lifting your head up and wrapping your arms around his neck. “But you’re my dork.”

He leaned into your embrace, and you pecked his lips.

Definitely not how you planned your day, but still, it ended in the best way possible.

An: IM WELL AWARE BAKING TAKES LONGER AND FLOUR ISNT SHIPPED IN BOWLS STFU

440 notes · View notes

zukkaoru · 3 years

Text

hello all! today is the one year anniversary of me posting plum blossom aka my first oneshot to cross not only the 10k word mark but also the 20k word mark. it's also still holding it's spot as my most popular fic by both hits and kudos and it genuinely stuns me that something that started out as a silly little idea i had right after watching boiling rock is still getting reads and kudos

so anyways, to celebrate one year and to thank everyone who has read and left kudos/comments on it, may i offer you a little snippet from the Sokka POV rewrite i started shortly after posting plum blossom and never ended up finishing?👀💞

(it starts during the white lotus meeting when toph takes zuko to talk to jeong-jeong)

“Gossip doesn’t suit you,” Pakku states. His voice is steady, but underlined with a harshness Sokka doesn’t like. “It doesn’t do well to talk about the Fire Lord behind his back.”

“He’s my nephew,” Iroh replies in the same calm but also somehow harsh tone. “I would not ask you to refrain from ever speaking of your family when they are elsewhere.” Iroh sips his tea.

He and Pakku stare at each other in silence until Jeong-Jeong returns, trailed by Zuko and Toph. Jeong-Jeong and Zuko both look shaken up while Toph looks proud of herself.

“Thanks for letting us interrupt the Old Man Meeting!” Toph says.

Sokka tries to meet Zuko’s gaze, but his eyes are unfocused, almost glazed over. As Toph shoves him out the door, Sokka jumps up and follows them. Pakku tries to pretest, but Piandao silences him.

“Wait, Zuko!”

Zuko tenses, but once his eyes focus on Sokka, he relaxes.

“I just wanted to say bye.”

Zuko smiles. “Oh. Right. Sorry for showing up unannounced - Toph kind of neglected to mention you might be here.” He steps closer, and Sokka knows that means he wants to hug Sokka. Sokka, of course, obliges and pulls Zuko into a hug. Zuko’s breathing is shaky, but that’s to be expected with how off he’s looked since he and Toph first showed up. There’s something bothering him, but Sokka doesn’t want to pry. Not yet, at least. Not right now.

Instead, he just whispers, “I know we just saw each other a few days ago, but I’ve missed you.”

Zuko’s arms tighten around Sokka. “I missed you too.”

Sokka is studying the swords hanging on Piandao’s wall while he waits for Pakku to finish discussing whatever with Jeong-Jeong, when Toph bursts in through the door. She looks frantic beyond belief, and almost like she’s been crying.

“Are Sokka and Iroh still here?”

Sokka’s blood runs cold. Something is very, very, wrong.

Sokka feels a firm hand on his shoulder, which he realizes belongs to Iroh. “What is it, Toph?”

“It’s Zuko.”

“What?” Sokka cries. He doesn’t even care about what everyone else will think at this point. Toph never calls anyone by their actual names. Zuko is always ‘Sparky’ or ‘Fire Lord Hotman’ if she wants to mix it up. “Toph, what happened?!”

Toph shakes her head. “Not here.”

Sokka can’t get out of the house fast enough, but Toph waits until she, Sokka, and Iroh are seated outside and she’s sure no one else is listening in before she speaks.

“He passed out,” she starts. “He wanted to visit Azula--” she must feel Sokka tense, because she quickly adds, “it wasn’t Azula’s fault, though! He was really persistent on visiting her once we left the meeting, though, and you know how he gets. But anyways, he passed out while he was talking to her, and he--” Toph seems to have an internal battle with herself for a moment. “He’s fine now. That’s what the doctors told me. But I really think you two should stay in the palace, or at least the Fire Nation, so he can talk to you once he wakes up. ...I think he has some really important things he wants to say to both of you.”

Iroh nods. “I do believe that would be best. Sokka, I am sure Pakku will inform your family of your change of plans.”

Sokka comprehends what Iroh says, but he can’t figure out how to respond. His voice isn’t quite working, and he doesn’t even know if he can nod. The only thing he can think is Zuko.

“Snoozles, come on,” Toph says.

“Your eyes are red,” is what he ends up telling her.

“My eyes are white,” she snaps. “I’m blind.”

“No. You were crying. What happened, Toph?!” It takes everything in Sokka to not reach forward and grip Toph’s shirt. She would just throw rocks at his head or something if he tried that.

“I told you! He passed out!”

“TOPH.”

“Fine!” She crosses her arms. “Fine. It’s kind of, sort of, possible he passed out because he couldn’t breathe. I don’t-- he just--”

“Couldn’t breathe?” Sokka feels like he can’t breathe. “Couldn’t breathe?” he stands up. “Will they let me see him?”

Toph must realize that there’s no way Sokka will sleep unless he can at least see Zuko, so she all but barges them into the hospital where Azula was put and the doctors point them towards an infirmary room. It’s empty except for the bed Zuko’s lying in and a waterbender standing at his side. As soon as the door opens, the waterbender looks up. She starts, rearranges Zuko’s blankets, and then makes her way out of the room. She drops something in the trash can on her way out.

Sokka rushes over to Zuko.

He’s lying on his back, and his face is paler than it should be, but he’s breathing. Sokka can see his chest clearly rising and falling, though it does seem a bit unsteady.

“What aren’t you guys telling me?” Sokka asks. He doesn’t look back at Toph and Iroh; just keeps staring at Zuko. Like if he looks away, Zuko’s breathing will stop.

“It’s not our place to say.” Toph’s words echo Iroh’s from earlier. There’s something going on with Zuko, something that both Toph and Iroh know about.

And Sokka won’t lie, it kind of stings that Zuko hasn’t told him. He just spent several days in the Fire Nation, and there were plenty of instances where the two of them were alone with each other. Zuko should know he can tell Sokka anything.

But Zuko isn’t good at talking about himself. Sokka knows this. Iroh and Toph tend to find things out, whether you tell them or not. Toph has her seismic senses to alert her when anyone’s heartbeat is even slightly off and Iroh might as well be able to read minds with how he figures things out about people. So Sokka shouldn’t be hurt, but he still wants to know why Zuko didn’t talk to him.

Sokka reaches forward and brushes a strand of hair out of Zuko’s face.

+ bonus: after zuko confesses

And it makes sense now, why Zuko didn’t turn to Sokka. And why Iroh and Toph were so adamant about not telling Sokka the full truth. He can’t even be mad, really, because there’s nothing to be mad or hurt about. Except maybe Ozai raising Zuko to think he was worthless, but Sokka can dwell on that later. And if he accidentally wanders into the prison where Ozai is being held captive and accidentally punches him in the face, that is absolutely nobody’s business at all.

“What are you thinking?” Zuko asks. He’s rubbing his thumb over the back of Sokka’s hand.

“About how a lot of things suddenly make a lot of sense.” Sokka leans forward and presses his forehead against Zuko’s. “Also about how I really want to kiss you again.”

Zuko doesn’t say anything; he just tilts his head enough so he can press his lips against Sokka’s. Sokka sighs into the kiss and he feels Zuko smile. Sokka brings a hand up to Zuko’s hair, running his fingers through it. He could honestly stay like this forever.

#this has been sitting in my google docs for almost a year and i did not edit it so my apologies if it sucks #i originally wanted to write a full length sokka pov rewrite but that did not happen and i'm not sure it ever will #bc i have way too many other ideas #but i figured i could at least share some of what i have that is decent #and i wanted to do something to celebrate the one year anniversary of posting this fic bc it's still my baby #there are a lot of parts i don't stand by / would change entirely if i wrote it now but #this fic rewired the hard drive of my mind. was my first oneshot to cross the 10k & 20k marks. was my first fic to get a podfic.#it was my first fic to break 100 bookmarks and now it's at 525????#it blows me away how much love this fic got and i am greatly appreciative of it 🥺💞💓🌸#zukka #atla #grace's writing tag

97 notes · View notes

sokkastyles · 3 years

Text

I’ve talked about this before, but I need to emphasize that Zuko working in the tea shop is a huge part of his arc and development. It wasn’t just something that lasted only a few episodes that he hated and then moved on from, it’s something that is threaded throughout his arc and into the finale.

Of course he’s not happy for a large part of the time he’s working there in book two. He’s a traumatized teenager who is desperately trying to achieve the approval of his father so that he can go back to the home he was banished from. Iroh tries to make the best of things in part because Iroh genuinely enjoys it and making the best of a bad situation is just who he is, but he also wants Zuko to be happy and wants to make the best life for his nephew that he can, and he knows that Zuko needs positivity and security in his life, as well as tries to nurture in Zuko an appreciation for the small things in life and an attitude of service. It is hardly surprising that Zuko is resistant to this, though.

Zuko complains even more when he and Iroh are presented with new opportunities, because he doesn’t want to accept the possibility of growth in this new life.

Iroh: Did you hear, nephew? This man wants to give us our own tea shop in the Upper Ring of the city!

Quon: That's right, young man, your life is about to change for the better!

Zuko: [Sarcastically.] I'll try to contain my joy. [Walks outside, slams door shut.]

Zuko spends seven episodes working in the tea shop in a twenty episode season. It runs through his entire Ba Sing Se arc. He grumbles, groans, and complains through most of it.

Iroh: So, I was thinking about names for my new tea shop. How about the Jasmine Dragon? It's dramatic, poetic, has a nice ring to it.

Zuko: [Shows Iroh the flyer.] The Avatar is here in Ba Sing Se and he's lost his bison.

Iroh: [Grabs the flyer.] We have a chance for a new life here. [Cut to Zuko looking out a window.] If you start stirring up trouble, we could lose all the good things that are happening for us.

Zuko: [Turns to Iroh.] Good things that are happening for you! Have you ever thought that I want more from life than a nice apartment and a job serving tea?

Iroh: There is nothing wrong with a life of peace and prosperity. I suggest you think about what it is that you want from your life and why.

Zuko: I want my destiny.

Iroh: What that means is up to you.

Zuko’s time in the tea shop is part of his arc of discovering that he can choose his own destiny, and although he didn’t choose to live as a refugee, he can choose what he makes of it, which is what Iroh is trying to teach him here. Part of that is choosing to accept Iroh’s love, choosing to appreciate the good things instead of wishing for something that he doesn’t have, and we know that Zuko’s desire to go back to being the prince of the Fire Nation and earn his father’s affection is ultimately empty, and part of a life where he was abused, as well as where he was a part of a system that was oppressing others.

Then Zuko refuses Iroh’s advice about accepting a simple life in favor of pursuing Appa as the Blue Spirit - an identity that represents Zuko’s internal conflict between his fractured self image, which in book two involves him using the Blue Spirit identity to steal, to get back a part of the old life which he’s lost. It is extremely painful for him to admit that trying to get back to who he was before his banishment is causing him to engage in self-destructive behaviors that are stagnating his growth. Iroh just wants him to be safe and happy but he also knows that Zuko has to confront this conflict within himself.

That’s why, after he frees Appa, he must throw away the Blue Spirit mask once and for all, symbolically letting go of his desire to go back to the Fire Nation.

Iroh: You did the right thing, nephew. Leave it behind.

Giving up the past is never easy. Especially giving up the ideas he’s held onto for so long, the idea of what he can one day get back that, as Iroh said in book one, had kept Zuko going through his banishment, that gave him hope. But part of creating your own destiny is realizing that you can find hope in places you didn’t think you could find it. Zuko has to find something else to put his hope in and that’s represented physically by the sickness he suffers after freeing Appa. His entire sense of self has been shaken to the core, because change, real change, is hard.

Iroh: You should know that this is not a natural sickness, but that shouldn't stop you from enjoying tea.

Zuko: What's happening?

Iroh: Your critical decision. What you did beneath that lake. It was in such conflict with our image of yourself that you are now at war within your own mind and body.

Zuko: What's that mean?

Iroh: You are going through a metamorphosis, my nephew. It will not be a pleasant experience, but when you come out of it, you will be the beautiful prince you were always meant to be.

Tea even makes an appearance during Zuko’s “metamorphosis,” because the tea is symbolic, y’all. Then when Zuko wakes up from his sickness, we see an immediate change in him.

Iroh: Now that your fever is gone, you seem different somehow.

Zuko: [Optimistically.] It's a new day. We've got a new apartment, new furniture, and today's the grand opening of your new tea shop. Things are looking up, Uncle.

This doesn’t necessarily mean that Zuko has suddenly decided that he loves serving tea and working customer service, but the change he’s experienced is about choosing to find the good, to accept change into his life, to accept humility, and love. And this is the most happy we’ve ever seen Zuko be. We also see him emotionally supporting Iroh and working on his relationship with his uncle because he knows that seeing Zuko happy makes Iroh happy. Before, Zuko made a big show of his unhappiness, slamming doors and frowning and shouting and generally acting like a spoiled teenager with major authority issues, which made Iroh visibly upset. Iroh constantly tries to get Zuko to change his attitude but in the end it’s something that Zuko has to choose himself.

Iroh: Who thought when we came to this city as refugees, that I'd end up owning my own tea shop? Follow your passion, Zuko, and life will reward you.

Zuko: Congratulations, Uncle.

Iroh: I am very thankful.

Zuko: You deserve it. The Jasmine Dragon will be the best tea shop in the city.

Iroh: No. I'm thankful because you decided to share this special day with me. It means more than you know.

Zuko: Now let's make these people some tea!

This is more than just Zuko being happy for Iroh or trying to be happy because Iroh wants him to be happy. We see the idea repeated here that you can choose your own destiny, and that those who do are rewarded by life. This is also echoed in Zuko’s conversation with Katara in which he tells her that lately he has realized that he is free to choose what he makes of the scars of his past, and his future. We also see him practicing what Iroh told him, he lets go of shame by letting go of pride. Instead of talking about what he thinks he deserves, he talks about what Iroh deserves. The dialogue also indicates that Zuko chose to be there.

This development is emphasized when Zuko and Iroh are invited to serve tea to the Earth King.

Iroh: I ... I can't believe it!

Zuko: What is it, Uncle?

Iroh: Great news! We've been invited to serve tea to the Earth King!

Zuko goes from “step aside, filth!” and complaining about doing work to smiling about serving tea to the king of a rival nation. That’s character development. And as I said before, it was essential to Zuko’s development in becoming the kind of Fire Lord that he is supposed to be.

The dramatic irony of Katara finding them and unintentionally ratting them out to Azula is that when Katara enters the tea shop, she finds not only a Zuko in a tea apron, but a happy one enthusiastically taking people’s orders.

Zuko: Uncle! I need two jasmine, one green, and one lychee!

Iroh: I'm brewing as fast as I can!

I love this scene so much because it’s like, imagine that you decide to go to Panera Bread and you find Kylo Ren working at the counter, cheerfully asking you if you want chips or an apple with that. It’s also hilarious that Katara’s immediate thought is they’re infiltrating the city when she knows that there’s an evil force of brainwashing government agents lurking about.

That Zuko genuinely found peace with his life in Ba Sing Se is narratively important because it makes what happens next even harder for him. “The Crossroads of Destiny” is a true crossroads because he’s fought hard to find happiness and hope in his new life, but then it’s all ripped away and he’s put to the test. That he fails it this time just emphasizes how hard it is to break free of old destructive habits.

This is why when he does go back to the Fire Nation, we’re shown his doubts, and how uncomfortable he is. He tries to be happy and to accept his role as prince, but he already knows that this is not the destiny he wants for himself. The excessive opulence of the Fire Nation is meant to show this. We see this in scenes like Zuko constantly being unhappy during the beach episode and becoming angry when he is told to relax and do nothing, and his insecurity at the party in a room full of rich kids.

In particular, we see him being uncomfortable being waited on by servants in “Nightmares and Daydreams”:

Servant #1: Fresh fruit, Prince Zuko?

Zuko puts out his hand and shakes his head respectfully.

Servant #2: May I wash your feet, sir?

Zuko respectfully puts his hand out and shakes his head again.

Servant #1: Head massage?

Zuko shakes his head again.

Servant #2: Hot towel?

Zuko looks at the towels for a moment and takes one. He is seen wiping his forehead before walking out of the room. The two servants bow behind him. Zuko walks out the palace gates, with Fire Nation citizens waiting for him.

Servant #1: Prince Zuko, is something wrong? You didn't take the palanquin.

Zuko: I'm just going to Mai's house. It's not far.

Servant #1: It's not a prince's place to walk anywhere, sir.

Zuko looks to the distance, walks over, and gets into the palanquin.

We see him trying to fit in with Mai because he’s a sixteen year old who has a girlfriend for the first time in his life and he wants to impress her, but what this scene actually shows is their differing values.

Zuko: Tell me, if you could have anything you want right now, what would it be?

Mai: Hm ... A big fancy fruit tart, with rose petals on top.

Zuko: You know, being a prince and all, I might just be able to make that happen.

Mai: That would be impressive.

Zuko: [To the servants.] Do you think you could find a fresh fruit tart for the lady, with rose petals on top?

Servant: Excellent choice, sir.

Mai: I guess there's some nice perks that come with being royalty. [Pushing Zuko to lay down with her.] Though there's annoying stuff, too. Like that all-day war meeting coming up.

Zuko: [Sitting up, followed by Mai.] War meeting? What are you talking about?

Mai: Azula mentioned something. I-I assumed you were going, too.

Zuko: I guess I wasn't invited.

The two look away from each other.

Zuko asks Mai what she would want if she could have anything and what she comes up with is fruit tarts. This doesn’t necessarily mean that Mai is shallow, but what it does mean is that she’s never had to worry about what she wants in terms of the big picture.

“Who are you, and what do you want?”

She’s also never had to go hungry like Zuko has, and never had to serve others like Zuko has.

And then she brings up the war meeting, which to her is only an annoyance. Zuko doesn’t care about fruit tarts and palanquin rides, but this is something he cares about. It’s also funny to me that Mai is like “make out time,” and let’s be real, nobody would fault Zuko, a sixteen year old boy, for enjoying a little hanky panky, but Zuko is like “no, anxiety time!” Which shows how much he’s changed and how much he is struggling to be happy despite all the fruit tarts and hot towels and having a girlfriend who is all over him.

It is NOT a coincidence that when Zuko joins the gaang, we see him genuinely happy and among friends and making and serving tea.

Zuko had to go back to the Fire Nation to really understand how much he had changed and to really be able to choose his own destiny, but we know which one he chooses, between a life of empty riches and a life helping others. Even when we see him addressing the people as Fire Lord, his speech is all about service and humility. When the crowd cheers for him, he does this:

Zuko: Please. The real hero is the Avatar.

Which shows how far he’s come from the boy who so desperately wanted recognition, who was repulsed by the idea of serving others or lowering himself to the status of a “peasant,” who only thought of himself and what he deserved. His last scene is not his coronation, not his triumphant moment of standing in front of a crowd as Fire Lord, or even confronting his father, but a quiet moment, serving tea to his friends.

#zuko #atla #atla meta #iroh #mai #the blue spirit #the tea is symbolic

880 notes · View notes

yeeeolk · 2 years

Text

impromptu zuko fanfic idea:

(okay i always liked the idea of a soulmark and it being scarred over…i did find fanfics abt this on zuko and shoto,,,here’s my sleep deprived unfinished try)

zuko’s ashamed. well, not at first. no, not when he wakes up one morning, trudges with the maids on his heels into the dining room, and hears azula from her chair comment about “something on your face, zuzu.” no, because thats when his mom looks, pauses, and sits up from her chair to meet him on the royal carpet floor.

“zuzu,” is what she says, smiling, and brushing a thumb on his left cheek. somewhere up high on his cheekbone, neighboring his drowsy eye. “it seems you’ve gotten your soulmark.”

no, that is not the moment for zuko to be ashamed. he’s elated. he feels precious. it takes very little explanation from his mother, all the while azula sits and picks at her bowl of rice, to understand that he has someone somewhere with the same mark, and that one day he’ll meet them. so he feels proud. so proud he forgets to ask his mother about her mark—and if she says that she has one, and if he asks if she matches with his father, well, all of that is forgotten because zuko runs to the nearest mirror. the mirror in the hallway out to the courtyard, and over his shoulder his mother tells him that the royal prince portrait can be scheduled, so the very first painting of him can have his newly earned soulmark.

the shame comes later. months later. after ursa leaves, after azula’s grown farther from him, and after the five minutes zuko spent in the conference room. his mother is gone but that’s fine, he tries to think, because when he looks in the mirror he can see her in the mark still on his cheek, still with the faint memory of her thumb on his skin. but the shame comes, unknowingly, when he’s fallen on his knees before his father, begging to end the fight.

and ozai stares down at him, face twisted up in something zuko can’t focus on deciphering. the fire burns and it stings and he suffers alone, and it’s then that he’s ashamed; because he’s thought himself precious all this time, he’s thought himself to be proud, and now he’s gone and burned himself. and what has a done now?

he was proud prince zuko who had a soulmark, and it had become so natural for him, but now he’s exiled zuko with his regretful uncle. shameful zuko who covers the mirror in the room on his stuffy ship and has all his meals served in anything non-reflective. zuko alone, who curses himself because for some reason, after months of being aware of a mark so small on his cheek, one year into his banishment is all it takes to smear it as a faded memory.

he tells iroh, who says something about trauma. or something of the sort. something about healing and letting go. but zuko can’t, because even the cold air against his cheek strikes a panic, because he remembers ozai’s somber gaze while he stood over the only royal prince zuko’s portrait and burned it down to its molten golden frame.

zuko’s ashamed, because now mom’s gone, her memory is gone, now the turtleducks are lonely, now his room at the palace is empty, and now his soulmate will never find him.

#im a sucker for angst #zuko #atla #this will probably never be finished #please go ahead and trash my writing because im not advanced enough to write fanfics #is this zukka??? it probably is??#the soul mark is probably sokka’s boomerang or club #yeeeolk atla

20 notes · View notes

vee-is-a-writter-now · 3 years

Text

The things we never tell.

[[Zuko x Reader]]

Summary: After the war Y/N strays away from her friends, and her relationship with Zuko seemed everytime more distant, slowly she starts to fall into a darker place.

A/N: I took a very extensive but very needed break, I’m incredibly sorry to anyone who sent me a request before I disappeared and was left waiting for me to post it but my mental health was not the best during this past few months and it’s been hard to do anything at all. But I’m back and I hope writing again gives me a sense of purpose or something lol. Talking about mental health, this fic talks about heavy topics like depression and isolation, if you’re not confortable with that or are going through this stuff I recommend skipping this one, I will have lighter fics coming soon. Remember you are never alone, no matter how much you feel like it. There’s always someone to reach out to or ask for help.

Requested: Yes!!!! By a lovely blog that deactivated but went by the name of aristasiaclarke :( (yes that’s how long I’ve been away) But side note, if you sent me a request before my break and would still like me to write it send it to me again I’d be more that happy to do it!

Warnings: Depression, Anxety, Isolation, Angst

~IF YOU HAVE ANY REQUESTS DONT HESITATE TO ASK ~

The war was over, it had been for months now, yet some things hadn’t gone back to normal . You decided to stay in the palace after Zuko was crowned since your relationship with him had only grown stronger by being so close to losing eachother. Your friends on the other hand all went their separate ways. The friend group you’d spent so many days with, planning on how to defeat the firelord, training, camping, going on missions, it all became just memories and it had been so long since you’d all been together last. You couldn’t complain though, you understood after everything that had happened all your friends were left with many responsibilities laying on their shoulders and, in a way, none of you were the same kids you were when this adventure started. You had all grown up.

Zuko and you spent a lot of time together those first few months since you moved in, that period of time when his people understood his need to settle into his position and take charge of his nation, but after that was over the workload was relentless, Zuko had been left with a broken nation and the full responsibility of fixing it. At first he always made sure to eat every meal with you, chat and update you on everything new that had happened, little by little he started to miss lunch and then it was dinner, soon breakfast and any midday break was gone as well. It came to a point where you rarely saw him at all, him working so late you were usually asleep by the time he came to bed, if he did at all, and you waking up to an empty bed every morning.

Slowly but surely a feeling you knew all too well started reappearing in your chest, something you hadn’t felt in years and were too scared of to even acknowledge. You tried to figure out what to do with all the free time you had in your hands so the feeling wouldn’t consume your mind, you remodeled at least fiver rooms in the palace, picked up several hobbies, offered your help to servants all around just to be rejected, anything and everything your mind could think of, but nothing was enough. That darkness and emptiness inside of you seemed to be determined to conquer your every waking moment once again.

Last time this happened you had your old friends around you, back at home. You family did everything they could to help you, and little by little you learnt how to heal. But this was different, all you had now were empty hallways that lead to even emptier rooms, and the ones that weren’t empty you weren’t permitted to go into.

Days were longer and shorter at the same time; on one hand, a day seemed to last ages, all you did was wait til night fell so you could go back to bed and rest, on the other you started spending more time inside your room, taking naps here and there turned into sleeping most of your days, taking baths became a task harder than any of the ones you’d had to complete in your adventure days, the curtains stayed closed and the bed unmade, day and night slowly started to blend in together.

Servants noticed first, they knocked on the door several times a day to ask if you needed anything at all, to which you would always answer no. When you stopped going to the dinner hall they started to bring food to you, most of which you didn’t eat. One too many times they even had to drag you to the bath so they could get a chance to clean your room.

It was your personal maid who had decided to finally bring in the palace medic. After running some tests on you he concluded there was nothing wrong with you and all it could be was hormonal changes. But hormonal changes weren’t supposed to last weeks, not to mention months.

The maid tried encouraging you to go out to town, visit some new boutique that had opened or a restaurant with great reviews, but all you ever said was “maybe tomorrow”. She came to understand that tomorrow wouldn’t come.

—————————

One day she decided to not stand by and witness a girl who had once been the light in every room wither away. It took all her courage to approach the fire lord,. Even though she knew of his kindness and how different he was from his predecessor he was still an intimidating ruler.

“Fire lord” she called as the young man walked through the palace surrounded by his officials, discussing some political matter she assumed. He didn’t seem to hear her so she sped up and stood in front of the group of men.

“I’m sorry but any issue at the moment will have to wait, important matters need to be addressed with urgency.” He informed her with his usual formal tone.

“Your majesty, it’s miss Y/N, she-” the maid started but was soon interrupted

“Yes, well if she requires my presence please inform her I’m occupied at the moment, but whatever she needs she can ask the help to do it for her.” Zuko attempt to walk past her but the maid stopped him once again.

“Your majesty, I hope I’m not being too bold but I don’t think you understand, she’s very unwell.” the maid saw as Zuko was about to protest her audacity, but once his eyes fell on her he seemed to realize the seriousness of the matter.

Zuko’s heart sank, all kinds of thoughts went through his head, had you gotten injured? Had one of the rebellious groups he’d been dealing with infiltrated the castle and taken you? had you fallen ill with a terrible condition? He soon turned to his second in command and said “You can take charge from here”

The man rather surprised replied after a few seconds “Your majesty, this matter requires your presence, it can not wait.”

“Well it will have to, I’m going to be unavailable the rest of the day. I’m sure you all can manage without me.”

———————

Nothing could’ve prepared Zuko for the sight he encountered when he entered the royal chambers. He hadn’t sleept there a few nights in a row, not wanting to wake you up at late hours when he was done with his workload of the day, but even when he did sleep there he was too tired to even notice anything wrong. Now, at broad daylight, he saw it all.

You were cuddled up under the covers, your hair matted and messier than ever, very dark under eye bags and an extremely pale complexion, even laying down and under blankets and covers he could tell you’d lost a worryingly amount of weight. He’d never seen you in such state.

“What happened to her? Is she ill?” Zuko asked the maid who stood next to him.

“The medic has been called, your majesty, he wasn’t able to point out anything wrong with her. Said it was just hormonal changes, but I don’t think that’s what’s going on.” she said softly.

“Well then bring another doctor in. Someone has to know what’s wrong.”

“Yes, your majesty, we’ll being someone else in first thing tomorrow.” she bowed and was about to leave the room when the firelord stopped her.

“Thank you... for bringing this to my attention and for looking after her.”

The maid just bowed once again and made her way out of the room. Zuko walked up to you, your eyes were closed and even in your sleep an uneasy expression was plastered on your face.

“Love...” he cooed stoking the side of your face slowly. “Hey, darling... wake up.”

He made sure to rest his hand on your forehead to see if you had a fever, but on the contrary you were rather cold. You barely opened your eyes, but it was enough for Zuko to see how the light that had once been there was now gone.

“Zuko?” you asked, your voice barely audible and raspy as you tried to blink the sleepiness away slowly.

“Hey, do you feel sick Y/N? Does anything hurt?” Zuko’s hand had moved from your forehead to your cheek and his thumb was now sweetly caressing your skin.

You hadn’t felt a loving touch in what felt like so long, you’d almost forgotten that you could feel something good and not painful. It was all it took for tears to slowly start forming in your eyes and eventually rolling down your face.

At the sight of your partner’s concern, you forced yourself to smile a little and respond “Nothing hurts.”

“Y/N... something’s not right. I’ve never seen you like this before, i need you to tell me what’s going on.” Zuko’s voice was almost breaking, you could tell how hard he was trying to be strong and keep collected for you, this broke your heart even more.

You took in a deep breath, your mind running while trying to find an answer for him. You knew what was wrong, you’d ignored it so far, pushed it away even though it now consumed your every waking moment, but you knew you couldn’t do this anymore. “I don’t feel well, Zuko. I haven’t for a while now.”

“Are you ill? We’ve called a doctor already, he should be-” He said before you cut him off.

“Zuko... It’s not that kind of unwell.” you almost whispered. “A doctor can’t help me with this.”

The firelord seemed lost for a while, not quite sure of what you meant. You took a second before sitting up on the bed and pressing your back against the headboard. You decided to recount the events of the last time you’d gone through this to him, every sleepless night and every full of sleep day, the multiple crying sessions, the pain and hopelessness, the ever changing appetite, the heavy chest you couldn’t seem to get rid of. This was all terribly hard for you to do but needed to be done, for your sake and for his. Zuko didn’t seem to understand at first, his eyes looking at you attentively, waiting for the moment where the pieces of your story would fall into place. It took you saying how what was wrong with you wasn’t physical but rather emotional for him to get what you were referring to. His face had fallen into a heartbreaking expression, you didn’t know if it was guilt or pity or something in between.

Once you were done and the tears that pooled in your eyes while tellling your story had fallen, Zuko held your hand tightly. “This is all my fault. You should’ve been my priority.”

“Zuko...no. This isn’t your fault, it’s nobody’s fault.” You assured him as your hand went up to his cheek.

“I’m so sorry. You shouln’t have had to deal with this alone. You were there for me when no one else was and I want to do the same for you, always.” He tilted his head into your palm before turning slightly to kiss it.

“I’d like that... I really would.”

For the rest of that night, you and your partner opened up to each other like you’d never had before. For the first time since the war had ended you didn’t feel so alone, you were together and that made you feel like you had the strength to get better, maybe not today or in the days to come, but someday. He gave you hope.

#zuko au #zuko fic #zuko x reader #atla zuko #zuko angst #zuko fanfic #avatar zuko #prince zuko #zuko x you #fire lord zuko #zuko x y/n #zuko x oc #atla imagine #atla fanfic #aang #katara #sokka #fanfic #fire nation

231 notes · View notes

reinerispretty · 4 years

Text

rotations. (zuko x f!reader) ch. 11

hello hello hello!! thank you all so much for reading my fic, it really means the world to me! i never thought i’d see this many people enjoy something i wrote, so i want you guys to know that i appreciate each and every one of you and i see every single one of your comments and they make me smile so big!!! i hope you’re all having a great day :)

pt 1

pt 10

pt 12

The door to her cell opened and she had to squint against the bright light of civilization. It took her eyes a few moments to adjust to the change before she recognized the shadowy figures that stood in front of her. “Mom?” She asked. “Dad?”

The cement walls of the cells were covered in years of dirt and dust. The little light that filtered through the window at the very top of the wall illuminated the room just enough so that one could see their hand in front of their face. The floor of her cell was dirt, which she supposed was a benefit, as she didn’t have a bed.

(Y/N) spent most of her days in solitude. Occasionally, a guard would come in and toss her meals on the floor. They had no problem being unkind to her. They reminded her that she was a traitor to her people, a worthless and groveling little girl that used others for her own advantages. They called her names, threw food at her, and reminded her that she would be spending the rest of her life in this wretched place.

After Katara fled with Aang, she and Iroh had been captured in Ba Sing Se. Their hands and feet were placed in shackles to prevent them from bending. Azula herself had thrown her into her cell on the ship that they would use to travel back to the Fire Nation. The girl spit at her from outside the cell bars before shutting the door behind her. That was the last time (Y/N) had seen anyone she recognized.

She wasn’t sure how many days she had been in prison. They all melted together when she tried to think about it. The only thing she knew was that the guards woke her up when it was time to wake up.

It was a long time before she received her first visitors. She was sat at the back of the cell against the wall, replaying all the good times that she had had with her friends in her mind. Pushing Aang into the river on accident, teaching Toph how to do a cartwheel, and hunting and making dinner with Sokka and Katara were just a few of the things that popped into her mind.

Her parents looked down at her. She scrambled to her feet to come closer to the bars. She reached her hands out to touch them, but neither of them reached out to her. Her father’s face was one of anger and disgust. Her mother, surprisingly, just looked sad.

“When I found out that you had betrayed us--betrayed your nation, I was in disbelief. You had always been such an obedient young girl. And then I find out that my daughter had released prisoners and run away with the Avatar.” Her father turned his nose up at her. “You deserve every single thing that has come to you. You’re lucky Fire Lord Ozai hasn’t imprisoned us all for your treachery.”

(Y/N)’s fingers curled around the bars of her cell. “You’re in far too deep to ever understand,” she said.

“What I understand is that my own daughter is a traitor and that I have no choice but to disown her from our family.”

She stared at him in disbelief. “You would put the Fire Nation before me?”

“I will always put the Fire Nation before you.” For the first time since she arrived at the prison, (Y/N) felt an emotion besides sadness overcome her: anger.

“That is what’s wrong with you! Throughout my entire life, you’ve chosen everything but your wife and daughter. You think it’s for the good of the Fire Nation, but it’s not! The Fire Nation isn’t good. What they’re doing isn’t good! I’ve seen the destruction we’ve caused with my own two hands. I’ve watched it happen. You’re just a puppet who blindly follows the orders of a tyrannical monster. So fine, disown me! I haven’t wanted to be part of this family since Zuko’s Agni Kai.”

Her father chuckled. “I had a feeling that’s where you had gone wrong. Your affection for the boy made you weak. You didn’t understand that that’s what needed to be done.”

“And my father needed to make me watch it, right? My father needed to hold my head to make sure that I didn’t turn away while I watched my closest friend--a child--be scarred by his father?” She shook her head. “You’re just as sick as the rest of them.”

She moved away from the bars and sat down with her back against the wall. “You know, Dad, I actually feel sorry for you. I can’t imagine what it must be like to be so poisoned on the inside.”

Her father had had enough. He was a man who hated pity and she knew this. Her words had dug deep. He turned and stormed out of the room. Her mother remained.

“Are you going to disown me too?” She asked.

Her mother stared at her for a long time. (Y/N) was surprised to see that as she moved closer, her mother was crying. She couldn’t remember her mother expressing any sort of emotion before.

“My sweet girl,” her mother said, grabbing her hand through the cell bars. “I love you. I wish there was something I could do, but-”

“It’s okay,” (Y/N) said softly. “I can keep myself safe. You do the same, okay?” Her mother nodded and kissed her hand before leaving the room.

The encounter with her parents, although horrible, gave her hope. She would make it out of this prison if it was the last thing she did. And if Aang hadn’t survived, she would get rid of Ozai herself.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(Y/N) had been sleeping when she heard something fall to the floor.

She sat up immediately, looking in every direction to see the source of the noise. The moon was high, but provided very little light into the cell. After feeling around for a few minutes, her hands finally scraped against a brick. She walked over to where it had fallen from and peered inside.

“Can you hear me?” The voice almost made her scream in surprise. She covered her mouth before leaning close to the hole. She could see another cell on the other side, but she couldn’t see the person.

“Who’s there?” She whispered back.

“It’s me,” said the voice, a bit louder this time. She instantly recognized it.

“Iroh!” She sighed happily. “You can’t understand how happy I am to hear you. How’d you know I was over here?”

“There’s a nice guard lady who told me about you when I asked. She said you were doing well.”

“As well as I can be, given...y’know.” Iroh hummed.

“Listen. I have a plan.” (Y/N) felt her heart begin to race. “The Day of the Black Sun is in two days time. It only last for eight minutes, but we are going to break out.”

“How are we going to do that?”

“Follow my lead. And trust me.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The evening before the Day of the Black Sun, (Y/N) received another visitor. The door shut just as quickly as it opened, so she wasn’t even sure if there was anyone inside with her. Normally the guards left the door open if there were visitors.

“Hello?” She called out.

“(Y/N),” Zuko said.

“Get out.” She didn’t hesitate to say it. “Get out right now or I’ll blast you to pieces.”

“I know your bending doesn’t work in here.”

“Fine. Then I’ll tear you to pieces. Leave. Now. I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Would you just listen to me for a second?”

“No! You don’t deserve my time. I thought you had changed.”

“I have changed--”

“Obviously not, Zuko, because one of us is in this cell and one of us isn’t.” She sat up the actually face him. He sat in front of the cell bars. He was wearing an imperial cloak. “I see you’ve been living fancy in the royal palace.”

“If you would just shut your mouth for two seconds--”

“Why? So you can tell me how awful I am? How horrendous it was of me to betray Azula to protect my friends? You want to tell me how good it is now that your Father doesn’t absolutely despise you anymore?”

“I didn’t come here to say any of that.”

“Then why did you come here?”

“I...Remember when you came to the tea shop in Ba Sing Se? And we talked and you told me all of those things about how despite everything I’d done, you still missed me?”

“I take it all back,” she said decidedly. “That was back when I thought you were different. But you’re the same boy who’s let me down time and time again.” She turned away from him. “I trusted you, Zuko. I let myself believe you could really be different. And you know how I hate being wrong.”

Zuko stood and walked out of her cell, slamming the door shut behind him. (Y/N) held in her tears. She would not let herself cry over Zuko anymore.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(Y/N) tried her hardest to wait during the Day of the Black Sun, but she was too excited. She tried her hardest to see out the window of her cell so that she could tell where the sun was, but it was impossible. Instead, she just paced along the dirt floor.

She wondered where her friends were, at this very moment. How would she get back to them? She hoped they weren’t far.

Suddenly, her cell went dark. She heard a commotion happening to her left and then the door to her cell was kicked in. A very buff-looking Iroh entered and bent her cell bars apart just enough so that she could slip through. “I see you haven’t been wasting your time here,” she commented, before the two of them darted down the halls of the prison. They encountered a few Fire Nation soldiers, but without their bending, they were absolutely useless against hand-to-hand combat. (Y/N) and Iroh quickly overpowered them and made their way outside.

“Don’t look up!” Iroh shouted at her. He grabbed her hand and they ran as far away from the prison as they could. (Y/N) looked around and saw that the royal city had been completely emptied, no doubt to the bunker that extended underneath it.

She and Iroh climbed over a hill and finally stopped to catch their breath. The clanging of swords against armor caught her attention and (Y/N) looked down to see Earth Kingdom and Water Tribe warriors fighting below them. She figured out instantly that this was the invasion and that meant that her friends must not be far away.

“Come with me!” (Y/N) called to Iroh as she made her way down the slope. She turned to find him still standing at the top of the hill.

“I must go another way. I will be alright. Go, reunite with your friends.” He gave her a big smile before disappearing on the other side of the hill. She didn’t hesitate. She ran down the hill, nearly breaking her ankles multiple times in the process, and ran up to the crowd surrounding the big hunk of armor that was undoubtedly Appa.

“Hey!” She called out, waving her arms wildly. “Guys, it’s me!”

Aang was the first one to notice her. He squinted his eyes to see who was running towards them. Once he realized, his face broke out into a big smile. “It’s (Y/N)!” He shouted.

“(Y/N)?” Sokka exclaimed. He ran toward her and their bodies collided into a tight embrace.

“You almost knocked me over,” (Y/N) laughed. Sokka pulled away and kissed her quickly.

“I’m never, ever letting go again.” (Y/N) felt her face get hot but she had no time to hide it as she started getting bombarded by her friends.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” Katara sobbed into (Y/N). She held her friend tight, her own eyes pooling with tears.

“Katara, it’s okay. I don’t blame you one bit. I’m the one who told you to go.” She turned to Aang and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “If I hadn’t, we wouldn’t have this guy around!”

“You’re all squishing me!” Toph exclaimed. Somehow, the small girl had gotten herself in the middle of the group hug. (Y/N) grinned, pulling Toph close.

“Toph! I thought I’d never be able to smell your stinky feet again!” Toph smiled and wrapped her arms around her midsection.

“Don’t go getting imprisoned ever again,” Toph said. “You hear me?”

(Y/N)’s cheeks hurt from how big she was smiling. “Alright Toph, but only since you asked.”

---

I KNOW WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE. JUST KEEP TRUSTING ME.

Tag List!

@mdgrdians , @soft4kei , @bubblebars , @pleasantfankingdom , @vintageroses1014516 , @celamoon , @fangirlanotherjust , @gliderbudgie , @haylaansmi , @jada-cleo , @boxofteenageideas , @disgruntled-gay , @lie-ana , @jasmine-the-amazing , @svsoftie , @buckysfeet , @anime-simp , @imcravingyou , @rosetheshapeshifter , @alrightberries , @izzieserra , @hstott , @random-stupid-stuffs , @jackbamexpress , @jainaixo , @thefoxskinwalker , @kryptidkova , @bigbuckyenergy , @omgwhattheeven , @ohmigooosh , @snapchatisoverrated , @inlove-maze , @harapirena , @sooske , @sweeetteaa , @selenvx , @ilovespideyyy , @saaaasib , @mochminnie , @agentsofblinks , @happyariesbabey , @slytherky , @uglipotata72829 , @og-disaster-bi , @animeluver23 , @afxndommess , @xapham , @thanosismybitxh , @outerxorbit , @thenerdiverse , @himawarichild , @welovediaaxx , @justahockeylover , @loganrwebb

#avatar #atla #zuko x reader #aang x reader #sokka x reader #katara #aang #sokka #toph #iroh #zuko #azula #the last airbender #writing #fanfiction

901 notes · View notes

slythergirlimagines · 4 years

Text

Just Us With Some Hugging - Part 2

Let me just say how incredibly nice everyone has been?? You all are amazing and I really hope you like Part 2 as much as Part 1. Speaking of, if you haven’t read Part 1, read it first! Masterlist

Summary: Zuko asks you to be his fake girlfriend to stop his Uncle’s matchmaking. Angst and fluff

(GIF is not mine and has nothing to do with the story. Zuko just looks fine;))

Just Us and Some Hugging- Part 2

There were a few moments of perfect silence as you kissed, the calm before the storm. The music of the party faded away, and it was just the two of you. This is what people write about, you think. This is what all the girls talk about. Kissing Zuko is as powerful as his fire. The energy around you sizzles, and maybe you are burning.

You pull away, slightly breathless, eyes still closed.

“Y/N...” Zuko whispers.

And then reality hits you like one of Ba Sing Se’s trains.

“Oh no.” Flies out of your mouth before you can help it. “No, no.” How could you be so stupid?

You knew he didn’t feel that way about you. You knew this would all blow up in your face. All those feelings had just been burning under your skin, ready to combust at a moments notice. And the soft way he had said your name solidified it all. That’s the voice people used when they were about to reject someone.

Zuko’s eyebrows pulled together over his amber eyes.

“Y/n?” He asked, as you backed away from him.

Tears filled your eyes. You knew he was working out what to say to you, how to let you down the easiest. You couldn’t bear to hear it.

“I’m...I’m sorry.” You choke out, and then you are running.

_________________________________

You barely make it back to the house when you break down. Luckily no one is there, so you pound your way up the stairs and slam your door shut. How could you kiss him?

You had single handedly ruined the best thing in your life by being a complete idiot. You could have lied, said you were doing it for the show. You could have spun it so you could both brush it off and pretend nothing happened.

Instead, you had ran, telling him exactly what that kiss meant to you. Did you really have no self control, or did you just like being a masochist?

Slowly you head to the small bathroom to change out of your simple green dress. With a groan you remember that tonight wasn’t even the real party. Tomorrow is the honorary ceremony, and the reason you came. It’s the one that you brought your best gown for. The one that you thought would make Zuko fall madly in love with you. What an idiot.

Wiping the rest of your makeup away, you make your way miserably to your room and pull the soft bed covers over your head. What were you going to do about tomorrow? You couldn’t face Zuko after what you’d done. How could he even still want to pretend to date you after that?

You could try and catch a train. There wouldn’t be one tonight, but surely there would be one early tomorrow. Then you could go quietly and avoid making this situation any worse than it already was. You try to plan what you’ll do after that. You had lived at the palace your whole life, and you really had no where else to go. You knew that Zuko would never kick you out, his honor would forbid it even if you weren’t friends any more. Even so, you didn’t think you could stand it.

Maybe you could just say you were drunk. So drunk that you acted like a complete lunatic. You’d only had one drink, but maybe Zuko didn’t know that. Ugh. You were a disaster.

Someone opens the door and shuts up your inner monologue. You hadn’t heard any drunken stumbling, so you knew it wasn’t Toph or Sokka. Katara and Aang were too preoccupied to come check on you. Suki would undoubtedly be wherever Sokka was, and anyways you weren’t close enough to check up on one another. That left one person.

You freeze, grateful that you’re under the covers and he can’t see your face. You try to breathe as evenly as possible to make him think you’re asleep. Zuko stands there for an immeasurable amount of time, and you can feel that same energy from before connecting you. Now it’s even more magnetic, and all you want is to go to him. You forcefully lock your muscles into place. You will do no more harm tonight.

“I know you’re awake.” He says lowly, and you clench you’re eyes shut. You are not leaving this bed.

He stands there a little longer, giving you the chance to acknowledge him. When you make no effort to speak to him, Zuko leaves with a sigh and shuts the door quietly behind him. You don’t hear his footsteps as he walks away, but he’s always been a silent walker.

When enough time has passed, you let your body relax. Your pounding heart is loud in your ears, and you fall asleep replaying the exchange over and over.

—————————————————

“Spill.” A voice wakes you up.

Toph lounges leisurely on your bed, one leg underneath her and the other planted firmly on the floor.

“Toph what are you doing?” You groan, rolling back over. It’s too early to be dealing with this.

“I want to know why you and lover boy are pretending to date, and I also want to know why he’s depressed as hell this morning.” She snarks.

You sit straight up in bed, heart pounding.

“What time is it?” You ask frantically! If everyone is awake downstairs then you’ve missed you’re opportunity to leave.

“9. Why?” Toph flicks her loose hair over her shoulder. You had never seen her hair down before.

“Doesn’t matter now.” You say moodily.

Toph’s face lights up like she’s figured something out. Not good.

“You were going to leave!” She says jumping up. She’s being way too loud, and you know if she keeps it up everyone will hear her.

“Toph! Hush!” You admonish, scrambling out of bed and slapping a hand over her mouth to keep her quiet.

“Tell me everything or I’m telling.” She says, words muffled by your hand.

You quickly try to debate your options. You didn’t want Toph to tell anyone that you were going to run away, it was too embarrassing. Especially because they’d ask why, and Zuko would have the answer.

“Ugh ok, ok!” You remove you hand from Toph’s mouth and cross your arms. Toph mimics you and raises her chin.

“Well?” She asks. And then you spill.

It all comes out like word vomit. You tell her about the fake dating, about your feelings, and then the kiss.

“You kissed him, ran away screaming ‘no’, and you think he’s the one that doesn’t like you?” She asks incredulously.

“Toph it’s not like that. He was about to reject me, ok? He was using that voice, and his expression. You would understand if you had been there.” You defend.

Perhaps you could see what she was saying. Maybe it did look like you kissed him and ran away screaming, but he was seconds away from doing it himself. You were just saving him the embarrassment. Your argument sounds pathetic even to yourself, but you know you’re right about his feelings. Zuko could never feel that way for you. You weren’t a badass bender or even someone with a noble title, like Mai. You were just you, and you weren’t good enough for Zuko.

“So that’s why he’s sitting downstairs, depressed as hell, pretending to eat breakfast while he watches the door.” Toph sasses you.

“Toph he’s not depressed. He’s.... grossed out.”

Toph rolls her eyes for effect, and shakes her head.

“Idiot.” She mumbles. You aren’t even offended because it’s the truth.

“Toph, I don’t know what to do. I can’t keep this up anymore. That’s why I was going to leave early this morning.” You tell her.

Toph considers it for a minute, and then takes a seat on your bed.

“I think you should talk to him.” She says at last.

“No!” You shake your head vehemently. “I can’t. No way.”

“He’s probably scared and nervous too you know.” Toph says, and it may be the most gentle tone she’s ever used.

You try to imagine a nervous Zuko. You’d seen it a few times, when he came back from exile, or before a really big council meeting. That wasn’t the Zuko you had seen last night.

“He isn’t.” You say with finality.

“I still think you’re an idiot.” Toph says, getting off your bed and adjusting her green tunic. “But if you aren’t going to talk to him, we’ll just have to keep you apart as much as possible.”

——————————————————

Toph’s idea of keeping you and Zuko apart came in the form of a girls’ day. She had even convinced Katara and Suki to come.

Toph had given you some time to change, and then she had whisked you all away to a spa that she and Katara liked.

“We might as well get pampered before our big night.” Toph says, sarcastically. Katara rolls her eyes, and starts leading the group through the cheery streets. Ba Sing Se is even more decorated today then it had been yesterday.

“Are you feeling better, y/n?” Suki asks. “Zuko said you felt sick last night and had to go home early, before he left to check on you.”

Color flushes your cheeks as the wide eyed girl smiles at you kindly.

“Y-yes.” You say. “I’m feeling much better.”

“I bet Zuko helped with that.” Katara giggles, and all the other girls join in.

“Ok, ok knock it off.” You say, laughing uncomfortably. A flash of heat tears through you as you remember Zuko standing at your door.

“Come on ladies, we’re here!” Toph says, ending the Zuko conversation. You would feel more grateful if she hadn’t laughed at you.

The spa day turns out to be rather fun. You enjoy spending time with the girls, and the spa workers are excellent at their jobs. They have you all in tip top shape by the time you leave later that afternoon.

You’re on pins and needles as you near the house. Will Zuko be waiting? You bad barely managed to avoid him this morning, and now you didn’t know how to act around him. Did he still want you to keep up the act? Maybe Toph was right, you should have talked to him.

The house is empty when you all return, and you don’t know why it’s both a relief and a disappointment. Katara teases you for looking for Zuko, and you make a jab back at her about Aang.

There still a few hours left before you have to get ready, so everyone goes their separate ways for a nap.

You just make it through the door of your room, when it slams shut behind you.

You let out a shriek, and whirl around to find Zuko blocking the door. His arms are crossed, and his dark hair is down, strands falling over his eyes. His face is blank, and that’s how you know he’s mad. He also looks unbelievably sexy.

“Zuko? You gave me a heart attack!” You whisper shout at him. “What are you doing here?”

“You’re ignoring me.” Zuko says, icily.

“I am not.” You say, and you wish that you could come up with something better.

Zuko arches an eyebrow in response.

“I’m not!” You flush. “What are you doing hiding in my room?” You try and deflect.

“Oh? Well let’s see. I was dancing with my best friend and then she kissed me. And then to make everything better, she ran off screaming. Now she’s ignoring me when I try to talk to her about it, so I have to ambush her to get her to speak to me!” His chest is heaving when he’s done ranting, and your heart is pounding.

It makes everything different, speaking it out loud. Hearing him tell it. He wanted to talk to you about it, and you hadn’t the slightest idea what to say. You open and close your mouth a few times, trying desperately to find the words.

Zuko watches, eyes boring into yours mercilessly. You know he’s not going to leave until he gets an answer.

“I don’t know what to say.” You admit, blushing. “I was drunk.”

You decide to give the excuse a try. You know he doesn’t buy it, because he pushes off of the door and moves to stand in front of you.

“Drunk? Off of one glass of champagne. Come on y/n, I’ve been out drinking with you. I know you aren’t that much of a lightweight.”

That damned electricity is there, humming again.

“I was drunk.” You repeat again. You heard somewhere that it’s better to stick with the same lie than try to alter it.

“Really.” Zuko says, moving even closer. He’s too close, and your breaths mingle. You’re craning your neck to keep eye contact with him. If he bends down even a little..... No! That kind of thinking got you here in the first place.

“Drunk is really what you’re sticking with?” He murmurs, leaning down just a fraction more. He’s immobilizing you with his eyes.

“Uh huh...” you say, getting caught up in it all.

“Fine.” He says, abruptly. “I hope you can hold your liquor tonight.” He says angrily, but his eyes are telling you something else, something you can’t quite decipher.

He gives you a final searching look, and then marches out the door. This time he lets it slam shut.

—————————————————-

It takes all of ten minutes for you to burst into Toph’s room. She’s asleep but you shake her awake, giving her no time to wake up before you tell her what just happened.

When she wakes up enough to understand what you’re telling her, her face twists into an evil grin.

“Don’t worry y/n. I know just the thing to do.”

The thing to do is apparently get you ready for the celebration. Toph gets Suki and Katara, both of whom look like they’ve been doing something other than sleeping. Toph instructs them that they have to make you look pretty for Zuko.

“We have to make her irresistible, ladies. I’m talking the works. Y/n, go get your dress and bring it in here. Suki, Katara go get your stuff too. Bring all the makeup girls, we’re in for a night.”

The girls do an impressively good job getting ready. You all help each other with make up and hair, but they leave you for last. Suki tackles your makeup, while Katara weaves your hair into a masterpiece. They spend what feels like hours pressing various powders into your skin, and wrapping your hair around the curler.

When they’re finished, you look absolutely stunning.

“Oh my!” You say, turning your head at every angle. Your makeup highlights all of you features, and your hair is in an intricate updo. You feel like crying, never in your life have you felt so desirable. You force your tears away before they can ruin all of Suki’s hard work.

“You look gorgeous.” Toph says, and then laughs at her own joke. You roll your eyes, but hug her all the same.

“Ok, enough mushiness.” She says, punching you in the arm. “It’s time for the dress.”

You unzip the garment bag, and show them the brilliant dress. The ballgown is a deep crimson, embroidered with gold and red gemstones. They twist and turn around the bodice, patterned after flames.

“Oh wow.” Katara says as they help you step into it. She zips you up and spins you around to face the mirror. Everyone is speechless as they look at you.

“Zuko is going to lose his mind.”

———————————————-

Your stomach is in knots as you descend the stairs. You don’t know if your anxiety can handle this. After the bedroom incident, you don’t know if you can control yourself around him. He had been there, so close, and you had wanted to kiss him again. You clearly hadn’t learned any valuable lessons.

The boys are goofing around downstairs, when they notice you all. Aang airbends to Katara, lifting her into a hug.

“You’re gorgeous.” He says, kissing her boldly.

Sokka’s mouth is on the ground as he takes in Suki, and Toph snaps it shut for him helpfully. Toph looks incredible too, her green dress accentuating her usually hidden curves.

You look at Zuko last, unsure of what expression you’ll find there. When you finally see him, you think you’ll combust right then and there.

Zuko is devastatingly handsome. You know this, you’ve always known this. But it’s different tonight, when he’s dressed in a traditional firebender suit that matches your dress perfectly. His hair is away from his face, and even though you like it better wild, when it’s up he looks like a man. No, he looks like a Firelord.

His eyes are nearly golden when he looks at you. His expression is no longer guarded or angry, in fact you would say he looked awed.

“Breathe, dude.” Sokka reminds him as you approach. Zuko is still not saying anything, so you take it upon yourself to make the first move.

“Zuko.” You smile softly at him. You aren’t sure where the tenderness comes from, especially because you’re still embarrassed and a little unsure. But when he looks at you like that, it makes it all seem like nothing.

“I think you killed him, y/n.” Sokka accuses you. Toph laughs but shakes her head.

“Oh no, he’s very much alive.” She says, wiggling her eyebrows.

That seems to snap him out of whatever trance he is in, because he shoots Toph a dirty look. He turns back to look at you, and blinks again.

“Y/n. You look....” he starts, but is cut off by Iroh bursting through the door.

“Is everyone ready?” He asks, excitedly. His eyes land on you and Zuko, and they fill with tears.

“Oh my. You’re all so grown up!” He says. “We should have a painting done.”

“Uncle, the celebration will be over by the time the artist finishes.” Zuko says. His voice is raspy and low and it’s doing incredible things to your nerves, like internally lighting you on fire.

“You’re right, you’re right. Come on everyone!”

As you shuffle out of the door, Zuko offers you his arm. You try not to read into it as you wind yours delicately through his.

—————————————-

The celebration is bittersweet as always. The Gaang is honored for their heroism, and then there is the traditional moment of silence for those lives lost. Zuko grabs your hand during this, and you give it a squeeze. Talking about the people lost to violence gives you a new perspective on things.

Life is fleeting, and every moment should be made to count. You watch Zuko out of the corner of your eye, and start to think. Maybe you should be honest with him about your feelings. If he rejected you then at least you knew. Maybe it was time you really started living.

Your musings are broken by the cheers of the audience, and then the music begins playing and the party is officially in full swing.

———————————————

You’re smooshed around the same table again, and it briefly feels like fate is giving you a do over. Or it’s being cruel. You can’t really decide.

Zuko hadn’t touched you since he grabbed your hand. No one notices with all of the excitement, but you notice. And it’s bothering you.

Toph and Sokka are currently rematching their previous drinking game, and this time Suki is joining them. Katara and Aang are still making eyes at each other, engaged in a whispered conversation. Zuko is stiff beside you, looking at everyone else but you.

You think back to what you told him when this all started. “We both know I’d have to make the first move.” Zuko means everything to you, and his friendship does too. But now that you personally know what it’s like to kiss him, to dance with him, to hold his hand, you can’t let it go. You can’t go back to the way things were, and it’s time you do something about it.

“Let’s dance.” You say, and you grab Zuko’s arm leading him to the dance floor. It’s funny how the roles have reversed.

Zuko doesn’t protest, but he doesn’t seem overly enthused either. You’re not nearly as graceful or trained as he is when it comes to dancing, so you don’t quite integrate as smoothly with the other dancers. After a few bumps and apologies, Zuko rolls his eyes and takes the lead.

You let him whirl you around for a minute as you build up your nerve. His hands send tingles through your body everywhere they touch.

“Zuko...” you start. His eyes find yours and then you finally right your wrong and spit it out. “I wasn’t drunk.”

Ok so it was less poetic than you intended. You’re still doing better than before.

Zuko stares at you, and you know he’s waiting for you to finish.

“I kissed you, because I’m in love with you. I have been for a really long time, and I know you don’t feel that way about me. That’s why I ran. I was so scared that I had ruined our friendship forever.... but it doesn’t matter.”

“It doesn’t matter?” Zuko asks, brows pinching together as he tries to decipher your meaning. His eyes are doing that thing where they pin you in place, but this time you let yourself feel it all. You’re done fighting.

“It doesn’t matter, because I can’t pretend anymore. I’m done fighting it Zuko. I love you, and I can’t pretend that I don’t.”

Slowly, Zuko’s lips curl into a smile and he starts leaning in.

“Are you drunk right now?” He asks. You shake your head, biting your lip to keep from smiling.

“No.” You say.

He leans even closer, and connects his forehead to yours. “How about now?”

“N-” but Zuko cuts you off with a kiss before you can finish your sentence.

This kiss is as passionate as the one before, except this time you fully lose yourself in it. Zuko kisses like he firebends, with an intensity and passion you’ve never experienced from anyone else. He pulls you to him, holding you there as he explores your mouth with his tongue. One of his hands sneaks up to cradle your face, and his thumb gently caresses your cheekbone.

When you finally pull away for air, you’re grinning. Zuko laughs a little breathlessly and rests his forehead on yours. He resumes your swaying.

“I’m case if that wasn’t clear, I love you too. When you ran away, I thought you were disgusted.” He laughs. You let your fingers trace over his face, his scar, and they finally stop on his lips.

You raise your eyes to meet his.

“Definitely not disgusted.” You say, and then kiss him again for emphasis. This kiss is sweeter and shorter. It’s a promise.

“So where does that leave us?” He asks, and it’s adorable how timid he sounds.

“Just us.” You tell him smiling. “And some kissing.”

A/N: Hey everyone, I know that this was super long but you all loved it so much I felt like you deserved it. I hope this lived up to everyone’s expectations:) Don’t forget to hit me up for requests, I do write for multiple fandoms. I’m going to get to my other requests this week, so keep an eye out for those. You can find everything I write under the tag slythergirlimagines. I hope I tagged everyone who asked, but if for some reason I missed you please let me know and I’ll add you!

Taglist: @darthsokaaa @a-random-queer-kid @astralsaf @myqueennadia @marvel-ing-at-it-all @galacticamidala @royahllty @whatthef-ckisupkyle @taeeemin @realimbo

344 notes · View notes

musictelevision · 4 years

Text

The Sun and the Moon ☯

“Tell me the story about how the sun loved the moon so much, he died every night to let her breathe.”

Emotional Tether Folklore: Two people, preferably benders, who are connected through spiritual interference. They are chosen at birth by two specific spirits. Throughout life, they both will experience feelings and visions from each other. This is a rare occurrence, it only happens every 100-200 years. Together, the two are powerful. Apart, imbalance will occur.

Summary: Y/N is the older sister of Sokka and Katara. Once their mother died, she step forward and watched over her siblings, even though she was only just ten. Years later, Y/N is travelling with her siblings, helping the avatar master all four elements. During this adolescence adventure, will she discover mysteries about herself she’d never imagined? All her life she has resented and ran from the Fire Nation. Now, could she possibly connected to the Prince of the Fire Nation himself?

A/N: I’ve really gotten into ATLA in the past few weeks, so this happened. I really couldn’t just sit back and not write a Zuko fic. This will be multiple chapters, and will have semi-slow updates. A masterlist and helpful links for a smooth reading experience will be added. I am going to try to make it as accurate as possible. I hope everyone does enjoy, feedback is always accepted!

Warnings: violence, fighting, death, sad elements, cussing, blood, gore, adult themes (later on, will be warned on what chapter if it occurs) !!

Themes: relationship developments, self love+hatred, acceptance, forgiveness, friendships, adventure !!

Soulmate AU?/Slow Burn/Connection (Unspoken)/Zuko x F!reader

Chapter One : Beginnings ☯

The Southern Water Tribe Village ☽

“My love, you should go to bed,” Gran-Gran whispered across the room. Sokka and Katara cuddled together in peaceful bliss, she did not want to wake them. Their father had left earlier in the morning, it had been an eventful day to say the least. With her father left, she couldn’t shake the fact that he would never return. In some ways, you could say, they were orphans. It only brought her thoughts to one sole person: Kya. It had been a few months since the deadly attack. She could still picture the beastly man looming over her mother.

“Where is the water bender!” He forced once more. Y/N hid behind her mother in fear. They had been inside doing chores when the ships reached shore. Y/N shut her eyes pretending she was somewhere else, maybe penguin sledding with Sokka. Anywhere but here. He became more hostile, roughly moving closer towards the two.

“Where is the water bender.” They knew where the bender was, in fact she was in the same room, hiding for dear life behind her mother. The other, hopefully still alive, was outside with her brother.

Y/N felt paralyzed. The big man pried even more, making some blows at Kya. Y/N could feel herself starting to bubble inside, her emotions were something to be reckoned with. She’d almost destroyed the entire village over a temper tantrum years prior. Though she was much older, her bending was not under control. It grew from emotion. Y/N noticed the ice around her cracking at every blow he made, Kya did too.

He stood tall once more, shadowing over the two. Y/N thought death would be different, that she would die of old age. She hadn’t even lived to see the northern lights.

“Mom!” Katara ran through the door only to be taken back by the large man in their home. The fire nation solider turned towards her, fury in his cold ember eyes. He seemed like he was getting impatient.

“Just let them go,” Kya finally said desperately, “and I will give you the information you want.”

“Mom-” Y/N pleaded. She was in shock, would her mother really turn in her own daughters? Y/N wasn’t ready to go, but if it meant saving the tribe, she’d be willing to do it.

“You heard your mother, get out of here!” the man hissed. Tearfully she ran over to Katara, holding on to her for dear life. Being her big sister, it was her unspoken responsibility to keep Katara safe.

“Mom I’m scared,” the younger girl cried. Their mother looked at them, and smiled.

“Go find your dad sweetie, I’ll handle this.” Kya spoke before facing the man once more. Y/N practically dragged Katara away from their childhood home, running as fast as they could to find their father.

“DAD,” Y/N screamed. The ice she stood on cracked under her feet, yet she couldn’t care. The imagine of her mother’s fearful look swarmed her mind, it made her feel sick.

“Mom is in trouble there is a man in our house,” Katara shouted. Y/N held her hand tightly, making sure she didn’t loose her grip. They were the last water benders in the tribe. The two were vulnerable and easy targets, but she would never let Katara know that.

“Kya!” their father cried out as he followed them back to their home. Sokka followed close behind.

Her mother’s dead body laid on the floor.

She didn’t want to remember the rest. Her father left to fight for their tribe after the devastating invasion. He seemed more, cold. Y/N couldn’t help but notice just how much Kya’s death changed him. Maybe his coldness was directed towards herself. She couldn’t bring herself to ponder that thought.

“Dad isn’t coming back,” Y/N remarked. Gran-Gran paused, calculating just the right thing to say. Sokka rustled in his sleep slightly, before settling once again.

“I can’t shake the fact that he’s going to end up just like mom. Besides I am the reason mom is dead. No wonder Dad left, he can’t even look at me.” Gran-Gran shushed Y/N quickly. Sokka and Katara did not know the reason Kya died, and Gran-Gran wanted to keep it that way. It was Hakoda’s wish.

“Come child,” she waved the young water bender out into the crisp midnight air. Y/N followed the elder eagerly. The moon, full and bright, lit the entire village. The stars shined brightly, she thought of her mother. Kya always told her the magic of the night sky, how the moon and stars worked together so gracefully. Gran-Gran stood at the edge of the water, patiently waiting for the young girl to join her side.

“When you were born, your mother suspected you would be a bender. That was a dangerous thing to be,” she paused with a long sigh. “However, the moon spoke to your mother the night you were born. The moon was the brightest it had ever been that night, the whole village awoke from its light. The moon shinned for you, and Kya knew that.”

Y/N smiled to herself. She’d never known this much about herself before. It still didn’t make her feel better, why was Gran-Gran telling her this anyway? It didn’t change anything, her mother was still gone and her father still hated her.

“But,” Gran-Gran continued abruptly. “The sun rose early that morning, bright as ever. It was as if the balance had returned for a day. We thought maybe you were the avatar.” They both sat in silence pondering her last statement.

The avatar? What a joke. Y/N had begun to believe such a thing never even existed in the first place.

“I’m sorry I’m not,” Y/N muttered keeping her eyes fixated on the moon.

“No child, that is not your destiny. Your mother knew that you would be apart of restoring balance to the world, but just not in the way. The moon spoke to her. The great spirit told her to protect you from all harm.” Y/N’s eyes filled with tears, but she did not dare let them fall. Her mother was protecting her, she knew that the day she met her end. But to protect her over some prophecy a moon spirit said? It made her blood boil.

“Of course, you won’t be alone in this.” Gran-Gran smiled to herself, leaving Y/N only to formulate more questions.

“Why would the moon find any sort of balance in me? Why would the sun react with the moon? How will I ever find another person to help me? This is so stupid, how do I know If you’re even telling the truth? Gran-Gran this is ridiculous. No moon spirit cares about me! If they did they wouldn’t let her die or let dad go!”

The eldest villager didn’t answered. She knew it was impossible to know. It was the truth, but it would take Y/N years to accept that.

“Do not dwell on the unknown, it will be revealed when the universe allows it. What you do with this information is your choice,” Gran-Gran slowly confirmed before making her way back to her respected residence.

“Ugh,” Y/N belted. She waved her hand towards the water before her in frustration. The water reacted with her swift movement, sending a wave towards the horizon. The sadness and confusion hit her, almost like a punch to the chest.

She chose to never speak of the information Kanna gave her. It still plagued her mind every so often, but she ignored every aspect of it. In her eyes, she was a normal southern water tribe citizen.

But in the back of her mind she knew, that was far from true.

That night at the Fire Nation Palace ☽

Ursa had done what she had to. It was for him, her son, Zuko. She had protected him his whole life, just as she was instructed to. The sun spirit made that clear to her on the day of his birth. This incident was no different, just more drastic changes would have to be made.

She quickly made her way through the palace halls, her frail body still humming with adrenaline. Killing the fire lord, what was she thinking? Leaving now would only make it clear just who did it. Was being on the run from the crupt fire nation worth saving Zuko? A million times yes. Stopping to catch her breath, her attention caught by the bright orb in the night sky. It always gave her peace of mind, the moon.

Azulon had instructed Ozai, her husband, to kill her first born. If only Ozai hadn’t spoken in such a heartless arrogant way, this wouldn’t have happened. To kill his child? It was horrible. He would do it though, if it meant keeping his honor. Ursa questioned why Ozai was so empty and power hungry. It was an answer she’d never know.

Some servants scurried pass her, bowing in the process. Did they know? They would soon, everyone would. She had to make herself scarce before then. The paranoia was sinking in ever so quickly. It was the only way to save herself, leaving. But, Ursa couldn’t help her mind race to Zuko.

Zuko.

The room he occupied was dark. There the young prince laid sprawled out on the crimson-colored king sized bed. Snoring slightly, he peacefully slept. The moon light coming from the window lit his raven colored hair perfectly. It felt wrong to wake him, he looked so content. But, it had to be done. For all she knew, it could be the last time she would ever lay eyes on her son. It was a little past midnight, in the morning the whole world would know.

She sat on the corner of the bed next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Zuko had never been a heavy sleeper, especially with Azula as a sister. Her unless torment made him keen and aware of his surroundings, a good habit.

“Mom,” he muttered groggily. Why was she here? His mind was still fuzzy.

“Zuko,” Ursa urgently spoke. Ursa quickly grabbed him by his sides, lifting her son up to face her. He blinked a few times, trying to focus with his tired eyes.

“Please, my love, listen to me,” this made him try to focus more. Her voice was hoarse almost like she had been crying.

“Everything I’ve done, I’ve done to protect you,” with this statement she pulled him into a hug. The last hug. She squeezed tighter than normal, he did not question it.

She finally pulled away after what seemed like minutes. He was such a beautiful boy, how could she leave him? Would he parish without her? Would he be taken advantage of? Only the spirits could know. Footsteps could be heard in the hall outside his chamber.

“Remember this Zuko,” she started facing him once more. Her voice was more stern this time, like she wanted to send a message.

“No matter how things seem to change, never forget who you are,” her voice said in a whisper tone. Ursa hoped he’d listen, and take those words to heart. It was all she could do for him. From now on, Zuko would be on his own.

The prince watched her in tired confused as she turned towards the door. He wanted to say something, question why she had come, but he couldn’t. The tiredness was overwhelming, taking over before he could object. She sadly looked back once more, before pulling her cloak over her head.

Hastily she ventured back trough the halls, leaving swiftly without a trace. By the time the fire nation caught word of their deceased leader, she was long gone. Just a memory. Ursa’s life she once knew was far behind her.

She looked up to the two spirits in the sky. The setting moon and the rising sun. Their harmonious relationship was on display in the sky. How wonderful the colors of the night collided with the morning sun, she thought to herself.

“Watch after him,” the woman pleaded to the two spirits that occupied the sky.

“He will make you proud.”

250 notes · View notes

the-last-cuddlebender · 3 years

Text

When Aang Was

When Aang was hurting, he became a walking wound. His reflection turned into a stranger. His smiles got a bit bigger—his magician’s one-liner to hide his slight-of-hand—, but he couldn’t keep himself above water forever. Even he sometimes forgot that he lost everything and everyone, and forgetting turned remembering into daggers through each of his lungs. It stole his air—his element, his last connection to them.

...the Gaang have a few things to say about that.

And Aang’s family would be damned if they let him bleed alone.

***************************************

A/N: The Gaang will walk backwards into hell if it means they can give Aang a hug when he needs one. This was HIGHLY inspired by this beautiful photoset by @imreallyhereforkataang💕 because Yin and Yang make me soft for the airbean I stg. (also special thanks to @demigodseameg16‘s fic request for putting orphan!Aang on my mind!) (also, also, this is my first time writing Mai so ya-hoooo)

Rating: T

Words: 5,074

ArchiveOfOurOwn (AO3)

***************************************

When Aang was happy, he talked really fast. His master’s tattoos lost meaning. He tripped over his own feet—graceless but playful—and laughed like giggles were more vital than breathing.

He was an airborne contagion that no one could escape. His family were patient zero, and, almost four years after the war, his quest for world domination was nearly complete. Peace was proven with the smiles he nurtured in others, and his empire of friends and friendly acquaintances circled the globe a dozen times over.

Their symptoms of Aang were chronic—their cheeks always hurt, their middles never stopped aching, he hid their breath behind hurdles of giggles and slap-fights about the absurd...

The list went on and on, just like the peel of his laugh and the warm feeling he left in his wake.

If only the world could see him when he curled up like a cat in its favorite sunny spot every time he lounged across the fuddy-duddy Firelord’s lap. If only the world could see him when Suki caught him using her good makeup—the expensive kind she saved for formal occasions—and the monstrosities he made of his and Sokka’s faces. If only the world could see him when he sent messages to Sokka saying they were from Toph demanding a rematch of whatever they were practicing lately.

Mai didn’t exactly help. She graded his antics with a rubric and gave him feedback, to boot. She refined his nonsense like a blade on a grindstone for greater impact and outcome every time.

The world definitely saw him when he and his lifeline went out in public. He guided Katara down an invisible red carpet every time, and he announced his befuddled Moon’s presence without having to say a single word. He adored getting her flustered—his Mighty Katara—and seeing the beautiful color she turned into. He especially loved the sharp smacks she swatted his shoulder with. He adored her puffed cheeks and her face’s valiant attempts to scowl at him. She hid in his arms from something that wasn’t embarrassment, and Aang kissed her hair at another mission accomplished.

But even if they were ever ‘cured’ of him, his family knew they would never be rid of him. Aang was a master of his craft. His hugs were blue ink, his understanding was his steady hand, and his shoulder to lean or to cry on was a thousand fine needles. His tattoos were unseen but brighter than the sunset’s reflection when the Ocean was in a good mood.

To the world, he was a cure, but, to his family, he was a vice. Neither his better half nor his siblings could shake his grip on them, no matter how hard they rolled their eyes and shooed him away. He saw their pursed lips and grumpy looks as something they wore and that he could take off of them. He found the cracks in their armor like he was a thief turning lock tumblers, and he dug his hands into where they hid their joy.

He was a purple pentapus in airbender robes clinging to their arms, their legs, and their backs. He was their goofy little brother and their grinning parasite, and they wouldn’t have him any other way.

They loved his smile, despite how badly it crippled them. His joy was so second nature that his good feelings became as essential as Mother Nature. The flowers weren’t pretty if Aang wasn’t smiling. He was their greatest weakness—the biggest, happiest, dorkiest chink in their armor.

May the Spirits help the next person who tried to kill him.

Katara would not be held back a second time.

Toph would find someone who needed some punishment if she was left out of ‘the fun’ again.

(Sokka tracked the bastard down, and Suki caught him without—just barely without—snuffing him out)

(Zuko held Aang’s head in his lap while Katara patched up what was broken and tugged his bleeding spirit back into him)

(None of them knew what to do when his fever hit critical. He started talking to people—children, mentors...family—who had been dead for over a century. The six of them were worse than lost when their seventh begged for his old family to talk back to him. He was sorry. He was so, so sorry. He missed them so much—please, he missed them and he missed home so much—)

(When Aang was conscious two days later, Mai sat him down and taught him all that he didn’t want to know but all that he needed to learn about poisons)

...

Four years of healing were four years of silly smiles and cozy camp-outs in the Palace courtyard. Four years of new family were four years of new brothers and sisters discovering, together, what family really meant.

Four years of new family were four Fall seasons where and when nothing (seemingly) happened. Four years and four seasons of dead and dying things came and went like they were never there.

Four Fall seasons became four bundles of dead branches burned between Summer and Winter. A pile of ashes became a memory barely remembered and a nightmare never forgotten.

Four years and four fires were four times he slipped away, unseen, from the anniversary of the war that they ended. Four times he slipped away were four times left by himself with a feeling that was worse than alone.

Four temples and four Fall seasons were nothing more than marks on a map and a calendar.

In the room that Aang used to call his in the home that he used to call theirs was where he kept all of the ‘counts’. At first, he marked the things they missed, just tallies and names on the wall.

Four years and four Fall seasons meant four-thousand names and smudged scribbles of forgotten faces and places they might have thought were pretty. His hands wouldn’t stop shaking and what was left of his heart wouldn’t stop breaking as he carved chalky tattoos, like unhealed scars, into the wall—the one with the window overlooking the places where he struggled to remember playing before.

He didn’t know he was forgetting them until he started having trouble remembering them. The tallies were lives lost, the dashes were shadows without faces, and the names of his family—the names of his old family…—decorated the head of the bed that he used to call his.

He left them notes like they could read them and asked them questions like they might respond.

Four years and four Fall seasons meant nothing to him. He lost everything and everyone in the blink of an eye.

Aang tried not to stay at the temple, especially if he was alone. Thinking alone was dangerous. His thoughts were wild and threatened to burn him.

He made the mistake, once, of walking past the hidden hall that he and his friends—his old family...—used when they sewed chaos into the weave of their home. The hall was stuffed with fond memories but so poorly constructed—so narrow—that it only allowed enough room for a one-way direction to and from the outside.

It was a charred hole with a sooty-black throat that greedily swallowed his shadow. The blackened stone was melted—glassy—and smelled like the instinct to run.

It wasn’t until Aang got back to his family—his new family…—that he imagined his newest nightmare.

It wasn’t his new family’s fault. They weren’t the ones on the festival ride just to his left and screaming into his ear.

Aang’s empty stomach turned inside-out, and he dry-heaved so hard that he couldn’t breathe. It was a strange feeling, struggling for air, having his element all around him but kept just out of his reach.

Those few seconds of breathlessness turned the ground black and the sky into dirt, but someone caught him before his knees buckled. Someone else was patting him from head to toe with tender touches that left no part of him unturned.

His family were worried sick—sicker than he felt. They asked him in a million different ways and in a million concerned voices if he was okay.

Aang struggled to smile for them. It took him four or so tries to get it right. He couldn’t do anything about his shaking, though.

“Can...Can we go home, now?” He whispered his trembling words like they were secrets never meant to be said aloud. He looked at them like a wounded animal limping back to its master—a stray tucking its tail but crawling closer, desperate, with a broken smile peace-offering and a fit of flinches at any sharp sound. The beating was inevitable, but he pleaded for the chance to feel something soft before he was kicked again. He leaned into Katara’s hand, and he flinched and pressed harder when she was warm and real and didn’t move away from him.

He was their goofy little brother and their grinning parasite.

Aang fought his struggle to smile for them, and he trusted his big brother to carry the whole of his weight. Zuko was warm and familiar, and his gentle squeeze was a promise to not let go; Katara’s worried touches and soft kisses were safe, and she swarmed around Aang like a mobile shield.

Aang sensed their tensing. They were his family, after all. He always had two fingers on their happiness’ pulse.

Their questions were a distressed tidal wave.

He didn’t stop smiling even when he closed his eyes.

He couldn’t tell if the hushed voices he heard were from his new family in front of him or from his old family behind him. Aang remembered...

Aang rearranged his lips into what he remembered a smile felt like.

“Please? C’n we...Can we g-go home?” He opened one eye and found both of Katara’s waiting for him. She was horrified and concerned to tears, and she wasn’t the only one.

Aang almost sighed. His strength was bleeding out of him along with everything else. He struggled to keep smiling for her, and he struggled even harder to keep his eyes open. He flinched from the kicks that were their heartbroken looks, but he tried to give them a reason to smile.

Zuko was really warm, though. And Katara’s hands felt really nice on Aang’s face.

The flame of his consciousness flickered—a candle left out in the rain.

“Please, K’tara?” He spoke without meaning to. It was an impulse, an instinct. It was the orphan and the last airbender crawling through the carnage and finally having a spot on the stage to speak.

Cold sweat beaded his brow, and frozen shivers shook his insides. He just wanted to go home, wherever or whenever that was. Everything was too blurry. He couldn’t remember anymore.

Even his new family’s faces were blurry, now, and Aang’s element was torn out of him when his first choke on everything and everyone he lost freed the Oceans behind his eyes.

He just wanted to go home...

“...Please?”

Aang’s voice was the last of him to break, and his family all flinched like they could feel it. His shattered pieces fell all at once and shredded everything he knew and loved.

He curled his fingers into Zuko’s robe to keep himself above water. He shook like something dead about to be churned to ash and carried away—a forgotten memory—on an indifferent passing breeze.

...

When Aang was scared, he talked too fast. His sunshine-warm smile lost meaning. He hugged like he was trying to hold onto something, and he laughed a sound that rang hollow—distorted—like an echo returning from far away.

Toph was the first to notice. His heartbeat was...off. He acted like he was surprised by their group hugs, but the evidence of feeling anything was only skin-deep.

Aang was never happy. He didn’t get happy, either. Aang was happy. He and the word meant the same feeling like how the sun would always mean warmth.

Katara noticed it next—nearly in the same moment. She had no seismic sense, but his kiss wasn’t laden with giggles and his heart didn’t try to beat out of his chest to get to hers when she hugged him.

Suki saw it but didn’t tell the others. She was an elite warrior trained for years in the art of stealth. Aang was the White Dragon and White Lotus tile all in one, but he had a terrible poker face.

Five years marked the start of a new quartet and the shedding of all things old to welcome all things new. They knew Aang loved the festival of the anniversary of the war that they ended, but something was different this time.

Sokka’s instincts saw it coming. Zuko’s hearing picked up on it, too.

Toph won him a prize—a plate of pastries trying to be fruit cakes. Aang greedily ate them and said that he loved them.

His shoulders shook and said that he missed them.

His lip trembled and said that they scared him.

Suki touched between his shoulders and guided him towards something called ‘volleyball’. It was a three-on-three game.

None of them realized until they picked teams that Aang was no longer with them.

It was a three-on-three game.

There were seven in their family.

Mai cursed and cut the net before it could become a fire hazard, and she was barely fast enough to save the netting from turning to kindling when Zuko pulled his hair and charred the sand.

They found him an hour later by following the echoing huffs of Appa’s soft sounds.

Appa held him like he had to chase and pin him down, but Aang held him back like he could never hold on tight enough.

…

Hawky was a master navigator and a tool of military purpose.

Hawky was also distracted when he stopped in the Fire Nation Palace on his way to Aang’s room.

Hawky had never seen a turtleduck before. He was domestic and curious even though the mother turtleduck chased him off like he was a massive predator.

And that was exactly how Sokka found his old bird—soaked and waddling for his life.

There was a message in his pack.

Toph threw open her door to find whoever was about to die from such a fast heartbeat just as Sokka ran past, grabbed her, and sprinted them to the others.

Toph would have fought him if she wasn’t so confused.

Sokka didn’t cry that hard even at that time of year when some girl name Yue had to go away.

…

Hey, Gyatso!

I guess it’s been a hundred years, huh? That’s so weird to think about.

I’ve been meditating just like you taught me. Well, I think I’m doing it right. It’s hard to tell, anymore. I sit in front of the mirror to correct my stance, but it hasn’t felt right in a long time. It’s okay, though! I’ll figure something out. I’m sure there’s a prayer statue in one of the temples that’s still in one piece. I could always check in the mountains, too, but I don’t I can’t I’ll try to check the temples again, first.

A good friend told me yo the Air No all of the Guru Pathik said you’re not really gone, and I believe him.

It’s cold today. It rained, before, so new plants should be growing soon. You would really like it here.

Do you I I miss you. I try not to, but Guru Pathik said to let my emotions flow. He’s gone with you, though. It’s been two years, now.

I wish he He left befor Could you give him a hug from me when you see him?

I hope you don’t miss me, Gyatso. Missing people hurts a lot. I really hope you’re happy, Gyatso. I really, really do.

Please, please, please, don’t miss me.

I miss loved love you!

…

Hey, Gyatso

I have more family, now! You’d really like them. Katara could beat you at Pai Sho, for sure. I tried to show them how you swirled the gooey center of the fruit pies, but I don’t think I did it quite right. It’s hard to tell. I tried it a few times in the mirror, but, when I remember you doing it, I can’t see your hands anymore.

I’m trying, though! I’m trying!

Toph helped rebuild the statues in the temple. I don’t really know how, though. Mai and Zuko convinced me to stay with them and teach the schools how to host a dance while the others left on Appa.

The statues look great. They look almost life-like.

It’s been a hundred years, huh? I try not to That’s so weird to think about.

I can’t thi I don’t kno Please don’t miss me, Gyatso. I’ll write to you more so you don’t miss me. I promise. It’ll be okay.

I can’t s Please, please, please, don’t miss me, okay? Please?

I loved y

My fathe

I loved you, Gy

…

Wet scars like blood splatters littered the letters by the dozens and made Aang’s handwriting nearly illegible.

Katara couldn’t make herself read any more.

She was the last one to break.

Sokka had been the first.

The second she sat next to where their family cocooned him on the bed, he hugged her like she was the only thing keeping him from falling.

She had seen her brother cry before.

But Katara had never seen Sokka weep.

Missing fathers and fathers missing were scars that never quite closed.

Katara choked on years lost and years alone, and she barely felt their family huddle around them, blanketing them, protecting them from what they couldn’t see.

Sokka’s hand left his grip on her to search for someone who wasn’t there. Katara beat him to it, though. Her empty hands pawed her brother’s back and were only mildly tamed by Suki’s tighter hug.

Aang...

The worst part was the helplessness. It wasn’t like they could bring back the dead.

The second worst part was the guilt. He had been alone even when he was right with them.

The third worst part was admitting that they couldn’t heal him. He needed something stronger than stitches to mend his heart.

Sokka tensed and tried to get up with that bullheaded air of setting his mind on something, but he only collapsed further into Katara’s arms. Zuko held them tighter and hushed the both of them. He tried to distract them with a strategy or a plan of what to do.

“...What can we do, Zuko?”

Zuko shut his mouth. Suki held them tighter. Toph sniffled and fisted Sokka’s and Katara’s shirts.

In the too-far-off distance, Appa groaned a series of soft sounds.

They all paused. They all broke.

Suki was the last to start weeping.

…

Clumps. The beast was easy enough to track.

Appa recognized Mai well enough to remember Aang being happy—trusting her—when he hung upside-down from her shoulders and laughed that happy sound that made Appa’s world of no bison feel full of new life.

He let her pass but not without groaning a hurried list of what she had to do to help his buddy.

Mai patted Appa’s nose.

Aang was a pathetic bundle of orange in the far corner of the cave. He was a mountain breaking apart, but his tumbling boulders didn’t make a single sound. His words were cut. His voice was obsolete. He pressed himself into the wall like he might get to something better if only he could come out of the other side.

Mai was a shark fin cutting through still water, and she sunk to a seat right beside him. The ground was cold and damp, but he burned so hot that she could feel the licks of his fever from here.

Her sitting down was the placing of a needle onto a spinning record, and his sounds of sorrow finally broke free of him. They bubbled in his throat like blood threatening to drown him, and he coughed when the instinct to survive overrode his waning will to keep breathing.

Mai closed her eyes and emptied her lungs. She touched the bare skin of his back. He flinched like she had struck him, but he didn’t duck away from her.

Mai let her presence fill his silence. Even he didn’t know what he needed, but she kept doing what seemed to be working. Her hand rode the waves of his choked sounds in long, looping circles that lasted as long as the time it took to take two breathes.

His hiccups dulled to whimpers. His sniffles quieted to shivers. He dug his nails out of his arms and scowled like he was struggling to remember.

The apex of her hand’s circle was his inhale, the bottom of the arch guided his air out. She unwound him in every way and through every layer until he released himself and uncurled enough to show some of the yellow of his robes.

Aang bobbed his head like a metronome.

Mai kept scratching long, looping circles on his back.

He huddled into himself with a ghostly small smile and a barely-there hug, and Mai would have startled if she was a weaker woman.

Aang started to hum.

His vibrato was something within him thinning and threatening to break.

When he started to sing, that thing within him frayed.

It broke when he got to the upturned chorus. It was supposed to be a happy song.

Mai hugged her knees with one arm and scratched his back with the other—keeping him alive like a broken music box from a hundred years ago that lost its key and was fighting fate from becoming obsolete.

…

Aang wore his smile like it was something he could take off.

The Blind Bandit ripped it off of him.

The Blue Spirit broke it in half.

The Kyoshi Warrior tossed it into the fire.

The Painted Lady threw its ashes away.

The Swordsman melted it down and forged it into something protective.

The Dangerous Lady kept its daggers in her sleeves and dared someone to hurt him again.

...

Toph sat across from him and didn’t let him be alone.

Zuko walked past his room to remind him that there was a way out.

Suki brought him books with pictures to show him how to feel again.

Katara was his shadow, his shield, and his favorite dancing partner, coaxing his smile to come out and play with hers.

Sokka told him jokes and laughed hard enough for both of them.

(Mai sat with him and listened to everything she didn’t need to know but everything she wanted to learn about his loss.)

...

When Aang was loved, he couldn’t talk fast enough. His past and his future lost meaning. All that mattered was his family right in front of him and the smiles that bellied their every feeling.

They were tattoos that he could never wash off, not that he would ever, ever try.

Five years of wanting were five Fall seasons of feeling lost. Five Fall seasons of searching were five Fall seasons of feeling alone.

Five friends and one love were six members of his second family.

Two brothers a foot taller and three sisters twice as strong as him meant Aang rarely won when they wrestled.

Sokka was safe and familiar as he sat on Aang’s back. Katara shoved him off. Toph laughed and took his place.

Aang walked, almost skipping—so giddy that he was going to spill over—next to them. They went slow on purpose to stretch out the precious journey home, but he didn’t mind. He told them all about his first family and everything he loved about them.

“—it, Zuko! He rode a dragon, once, too! Oh, Katara, you wouldn’t believe—“

Five years and five seasons of dead and dying things meant nothing to them. They almost lost him in the blink of an eye, and they wouldn’t look away ever again.

They were each a stretch of ink tattooed around his heart. They were stronger than stitches. They were a part of him.

They shooed him away so they could pull him closer, and their smiles were challenges to the size of his own.

...

When Aang was hugged, all he knew was love. All of his wants and needs lost meaning. Everything that mattered to him was everyone who held him, and everyone who held him were always there for him before Aang even knew that he needed them.

Their hugs were surprises like finding out the dead were alive.

They surprised him every time. He flinched, however, like he had never done before.

He was trying, though. He was trying.

Him missing family and family missing him were scars that would always be tender.

Tender was okay, though.

The secret was the gooey center.

“...Sometimes...life is like this...t-this dark tunnel,” he told his swallowed shadow, “...C’n’t see the light...but if...if you just keep going...”

His family were already in the prayer field. They looked at him with faces armed with smiles and arms loaded with hugs.

Sokka waved and said something he shouldn’t have and that, even though it made their family laugh, compelled Katara to shove him into the fountain.

The water was cold.

Sokka screamed.

Aang froze for a small century. He didn’t breathe for a longer eternity.

...And then Aang laughed.

And Aang cried.

And Aang laughed so hard that he cried.

All Aang cared about were the arms now around him, and all he knew were their soft words spoken over and over.

“We love you.”

“It’s okay.”

“Sokka, you’re a dumbass.”

“Oh, shut up.”

The muted smack of a backhand sounded too much like Mai’s for it to be anyone else’s.

Aang laughed a little harder.

He didn’t want to go home, anymore. Home was a memory. Memories couldn’t feel like this.

In their arms, he was finally where he was meant to be.

In their arms, Aang was happy.

In their arms was what home should be.

And when they held him tighter, Aang never felt more wanted in his entire life.

...

And when next Aang needed to speak with him, he found a way.

“Hey, Gyatso,” Aang said, speaking to the person in the mirror who was once a boy, then the Avatar, and now a young man trying to make himself into something that his memories would be proud of. “Did you miss me? You won’t believe this, but Katara lost to me at Pai Sho this morning. She got me back with the fruit pie, though. It even had sea prunes in it...”

Aang talked some more, and he talked fast. The breeze wound into and through the folds of his robes like it was a lounging cat curling into the warm rooms of a new home and new favorite sunny spot. He smiled something brighter than joy and welcomed the windy hugs that could always hold him just tight enough.

When Aang talked to his father, his master’s tattoos lost meaning. The tattoo Gyatso had left behind was so bright that Aang’s eyes watered if he looked thought about it too much.

He talked and talked and cried and talked until he left himself breathless.

It was a strange feeling, being breathless.

His element was suspended away from him, but nothing felt out of his reach.

A body or two (or three) threw themselves at his door.

“Twinkletoes!”

“You better not have my lipstick again! I bought you your own for a reason!”

“Hurry up, Avatar, we’re going to be late!”

Aang laughed just as the—the wall opened?

Katara lassoed his neck with her arms and threatened to kill him with a kiss that yanked him above the clouds and dropped him into free-fall.

“What...” He blinked. “...I mean I...I-I mean I don’t...” He turned a color and temperature that made Katara smile like he hadn’t seen her do in far too long of a time. “...What do I have to do to get another?”

“Ugh.” Mai rolled her eyes and pointed down the wide hall of the secret passage. “Just don’t do anything stupid. And don’t be late for the fireworks.”

Aang smirked something evil, and Katara couldn’t help but smile.

The firelilies only looked pretty when Aang had two dozen in one hand and her hand in his other. He kissed her knuckles, offered his arm, and escorted her down the invisible red carpet. She hid her face in his arm and trusted him to keep her from walking into anything.

He laughed.

His empire breathed a sigh of relief.

The anniversary of the new world they built was familiar, but none of them felt home until they met together on the hill.

And nothing felt right until their sickness started acting up again.

“Aang! Get back here!”

“Aw, c’mon, Sifu Hotman! Where’s your sense of fun?”

None of them realized the fireworks were over until the sky got a bit darker and it was time to go home.

Aang was tired. And when Aang was tired, he dragged his feet and spoke in slurred songs. His lyrics found every lost feeling and forgotten meaning. They were long lists of pretty names and precious things, tender to the touch and still healing.

He was tired, happy, and teary-eyed as he sang a diary-entry of their day to the breeze dancing around them.

Four seasons were six loves and two families that would never let him slip away into the season of dead and dying things.

He was their goofy little brother and their grinning parasite. He was a candle left out in the rain.

So they built a fort around him. And they hugged him like they could never hold him tight enough.

And when Aang was at peace, he didn’t say a word. Words were meaningless. They were a constraint. They only meant a certain something.

So he laughed.

And he laughed.

He laughed even when his family cried, and he laughed harder when they learned to laugh with him.

Six years of found family were six years of found love.

And all six members of his family would never—never—let him Fall again.

***************************************

79 notes · View notes

southslates · 4 years

Note

zutara prompt: zuko's having a moment of insecurity because of his scar and Katara tries to soothe /comfort him.

"Papa?"

"Yes, Izumi?"

"Are you done?"

Zuko looks down and sees his daughter standing at the edge of his desk, pouting. "I'm . . ."

"Mom's waiting," she imperiously crosses her hands over her chest, and he laughs drily before checking the time candle in the corner. A quick glance outside has him realize that the sky is already a terrible inky black. "You have to put me to bed. And then you have to sleep. And then Mom is gonna go practice her bending."

"I--" he has dozens of reports to sign off on, complaints and begs for subsidization and conflicts in the colonies, but he will never deny his daughter anything. Zuko pushes everything to one side of the table and steps up, cracking his knuckles before leaning down and pulling Izumi into his arms. His hands wrap around her sides, lightly tickling her through her robes, and she smiles despite the late hour. "Okay. Bedtime for you, you little fireflake."

"Don't call me that!"

"Nuh-uh. You're always going to be my little fireflake." They exit his office and walk the short hall to Izumi's bedroom, next to his and Katara's. The halls are empty at this time of day--the palace runs on an earlier schedule than this mixed-nation family does. Katara rises with the moon, and he with the sun, so they have this strange compromise when it comes to their daughter. They both put her to sleep, and Katara wakes her in the morning. She needs more rest than the both of them.

Izumi's room is purple, a strange color to see in the Caldera, but she'd chosen it as an infant and never looked back. The moon is a vision in her window, and when Zuko rounds inside he takes in Katara sitting on his daughter's bed, playing with a ball of water in a glass in the corner. "Did I keep you waiting?"

Katara smiles softly at him, shaking her head before freezing the water back into the cup. Izumi runs off to her closet to change into her night-clothes, and he slides off his heavy mantle and sits on top of her sheets, placing one of his hands around Katara's shoulders. She leans into him, bright-eyed, and he kisses her cheek. They are good at this, at sitting in silence; it’s comforting, and when Izumi runs out and jumps between them, he just chuckles.

"Are we reading a story tonight?" Katara asks.

"We can go over Love Amongst the Dragons again--"

"We are not turning our daughter into a theater nerd, Zuko--"

"We are absolutely turning her into a theater nerd," he scoffs, his hair brushing Izumi's loose brown locks. "You like the theater, don't you?"

"Yes, Papa."

"See?" he almost sticks out his tongue at Katara, who smirks. "So Love Amongst the Dragons--"

"Why do you even like that story so much, Papa?"

Zuko shifts until they're more comfortable against him. "My mother and I used to talk about it a lot. We'd watch it on Ember Island too."

"They've been doing it for that long?" He nods. "Then how is it still so terrible?"

"Theater nerds," Katara restates jokingly. "All three of you."

"Did you watch it every year growing up?"

"I--" Zuko's voice dampens. "Until I was a few years older than you."

"Oh." Izumi is a child, and she's curious. "So why'd you stop?"

"My . . . my mother went away for a while."

This is a darker place than he'd intended to take this conversation, and when he looks at her Katara is just biting her lip and smiling at him soothingly.

"Grandma left you? But Mom would never leave me."

"She didn't leave him," Katara reaches out. "It's complicated, sweetie."

"I don't get that," Izumi frowns. "Is it where you got the scar? Mom would never let me get a scar."

That burns him, intensely, but he can't be angry about it--it's he who still hasn't told her the truth about his scar, where he got it, who did it to him. Most days, he accepts it. He's accepted that he's not defined by it--the first time he can recall doing so was that day in the Crystal Catacombs. Still, he pities Izumi for having an ugly father, even if he can't quite say so.

As if Katara can understand his thought process--he wouldn't put it past her--she reaches to him and places her fingers against the mark. He can't feel her touch, exactly, but he knows the pressure. It's a strange feeling. "It wasn't my mother's fault, Izumi. It wasn't Grandma's fault."

"I don't get it, Papa. Didn't it hurt? Oh," she nods solemnly. "It happened in the war."

She sounds so proud of herself, and he sort of wants to go along with that, but Katara breathes in and stares at him, and he knows he needs to lead into this, eventually, somehow. "It did happen in the war. But it wasn't because of Grandma."

"I'm gonna hurt anyone who hurt you," the little girl says crossly, and Katara takes her hand and laughs.

"Easy there, sea prune."

"Can you stop calling me food names?"

"But you're so adorable," Katara teases, and Izumi presses back into her father's embrace, sticking her tongue out at her mother before seeming to grow reflective.

"Who did it? Who burned you?"

This is such a simple question to answer. He needs to answer it. But he's staring at his daughter right now, and he loves her so much, and he has no idea how his father pressed a burning hand to his face. "I--" He needs to say this. He does. He begs Katara to take it with his eyes for a brief moment, but she shakes her head at him and speaks to him with her eyes. You need to do this.

"My father."

"But Grandpa Noren--"

"My other father," he whispers. "But he's gone now. We don't talk about him."

Izumi seems more confused than angry. "But that doesn't make any sense. Parents are supposed to love their kids. Not hurt them. Or leave them."

"They are," Katara steps in. "And we love you more than anything, you know that."

"Yeah," Izumi nods, and Zuko can be happy, because all he needs to accomplish in this life is the love of his daughter. All he can do is try to deserve that love. And the way she speaks of it, without doubt, tugs at his heartstrings. "I don't get it."

All he feels is love. "Me either."

"It's stupid."

"Isn't it?" he almost wants to choke out, his hand suddenly lodged in Katara's.

"It's okay, though. I think your scar makes you pretty."

"It does?" Katara questions, a lilt to her tone.

"It's very . . . dramatic. Dragon. Papa would be a good actor," Izumi says solemnly.

"Nerds. You both."

A load feels lifted off his shoulders, and the rest of the night flows smoothly, and some part of Zuko feels at peace.

#zutara #zutara fic #zutara fanfic #izumi #steambaby #vivianwisteria #lol i keep butchering these prompts #im so sorry #my mind right now is just BABYYY #zk babies are supreme #<3

111 notes · View notes

soopersara · 4 years

Text

Rebirth

Zutara Week 2020: Day 7

AO3 | FFN

@zutaraweek

While Katara is resting, a still-injured Zuko wanders off and gets stuck by the turtleduck pond.

Just a few minutes, she told herself. After so much time healing him, monitoring the slow rise and fall of his chest, she could hardly keep her eyes open anymore.

A few minutes of sleep couldn't hurt. In one of his brief moments of semi-lucid consciousness, Zuko had assured her that the palace staff and the Fire Sages—the few who remained—could be trusted. Katara was less than convinced, but Zuko's condition was more stable than before, and her head kept drooping toward her chest for a few moments at a time before she jerked awake again. She couldn't keep watch over him forever.

It should be fine. So long as she stayed close, nothing bad could happen to him. Not in a few minutes. Not if Katara just curled up in the chair beside his bed for a little snooze. She would wake up at the slightest disturbance, ready to protect or heal him at a moment's notice.

Or that was the idea. Instead, Katara let her eyes slide shut for what felt like a single blink, and when they opened again, she found herself staring at an empty expanse of rumpled, blood-red silk.

Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no.

She shot out of her chair, bleary-eyed and only half awake. "Where is he? Where did he go?"

She crashed her way into the corridor, then rammed into a timid looking servant woman.

"Where is he?" Katara repeated, a frantic edge to her voice.

The servant fumbled to keep her stack of clean linens from toppling. "Where is who, Miss?"

"Zuko? Where is Zuko?"

"The Fire Lord ordered that you not be disturbed, Miss. I believe His Majesty mentioned fresh air—"

A bit of the sleepy fog lifted from the edges of her mind, and Katara's expression darkened. "Oh, he'd better not."

She took off at a run, careening down one hallway then the next and the next. By the time she realized that the light blanket she'd worn for her brief nap was dragging after her, it was too late to turn back, and she hitched it up around her shoulders like a cloak and kept running. For all the palace's beauty, it was entirely too big. There were too many rooms and balconies and gardens—too many places where Zuko might have wandered in his fevered and dazed state. She ran toward the northern wing of the palace, peeking through doors and shouting for directions whenever she crossed paths with a servant.

At last, she saw a patch of pallor lying in a shady spot beneath a tree. Zuko. She darted out the door toward him.

Zuko lay on his back, one arm bent behind his head like a pillow, bare feet dangling a few inches over the surface of the pond. Katara's heart sat in her throat.

He was okay. He was safe, and he was still breathing.

He was an idiot.

"You were supposed to stay in bed and rest," Katara called as she marched toward him.

Zuko rolled his head her way and blinked, eyes unfocused. "Katara?" His voice came out thin and cracked. "I told them not to wake you up."

She crossed her arms. "They didn't. You wandered off."

"Mmm." His eyes slipped shut, and his forehead creased as though he were deep in thought. "You were tired," he eventually rasped.

She wanted to be annoyed with him. She wanted to fuss about how worried she'd been to find him missing, she wanted to raise a stink about how his servants ought to intervene when Zuko did stupid, dangerous things like wandering the palace alone while injured and disoriented. But even with his forehead creased like it took all his effort to string words into coherent sentences, even with a feverish sheen on his brow and his hair clinging to his forehead in streaks, he looked easier, more peaceful than he had in days.

He was safe. He was going to be okay.

Katara sat beside him, letting her feet dangle over the pond beside his. "I was tired, but I'm not the one who jumped in front of lightning."

His eyes opened a slit. "When was that?"

She studied him. Though his eyes were open, they drifted a bit, struggling to focus. She wasn't sure how she should feel about it. There were hundreds—thousands—of questions she wanted to ask him about the Agni Kai. Why he'd agreed to it in the first place. Why his eyes, his voice had gone so soft when he promised that she wouldn't get hurt. Why he'd taken the bolt of lightning when he knew he couldn't redirect it properly, and why, even after he'd fallen, he kept reaching for her. And yet she remembered all of it. The horrific cry that tore out of him as the lightning burned him from the inside out, the tremors that ran through his limbs even hours after the fight was over, and the weak, stuttering pulse that took far too long to mend. She wasn't sure she wanted him to remember any of that. He'd lived through it once, that ought to be enough. She never wanted to see him in that kind of pain again, even in memories.

"Do you remember it?" she whispered.

Zuko's brows crept downward in thought. "I remember jumping. I remember you coming back. And your hands—" he made a feeble attempt at mimicking her healing stance, and again his eyes closed. "The water felt good. Everything else is—fuzzy." His expression slackened. "Appa is fuzzy."

A small laugh bubbled out of her, and her shoulders eased a bit. "Weirdo." She pushed his hair away from his eyes. "The comet was a few days ago. You've been sleeping most of the time since then."

"I had weird dreams," he mumbled.

"I'm not surprised." She hugged her knees to her chest, staring across the pond at the remains of what must have once been a lush, beautiful garden. "Is that why you came out here?"

Zuko shook his head slightly. With a slow breath, he opened his eyes again. "No, I—" he tried to push himself upright and made it almost to his elbows before a pained groan tore its way out of his mouth. He fell back, clutching his bandaged middle.

"Zuko!" Katara rose to her knees, bowed halfway over him. His breathing came too harsh and too fast, and the sudden shock of pain had drained all the color from his face. She cupped her hand gently around his cheek. "Zuko, look at me."

He only managed to open his eyes for a second before he clenched them shut again and curled inward.

"I know it hurts, Zuko, but you have to let me see it so I can help."

Zuko couldn't seem to respond, but he allowed her to pull his hands away and unwind the bandages. The lightning wound looked the same as it had for days, the same sunken red splotch just under his ribs, the same pinkish rays of burned skin reaching outward. Katara tried not to feel the heavy lump of guilt that settled into her chest. Encasing her hands with water, she pressed them to the wound and pushed past the sunburst pattern etched into his skin. Between the scar and his life, she would choose his life every time.

She poured herself into the work, feeling for the still-raw edges of the lightning's path and for any fresh damage. His heart, thankfully, was as strong as she could remember it being since the comet, and his lungs, though knotted with painful energy, still shrank and swelled with his breath. She kept working, smoothing the tattered edges and drawing out the set to work mending the burned flesh and drawing the knots of energy away until Zuko's breathing finally eased.

Katara let out a breath she hadn't realized that she'd been holding and sat down, suddenly spent. Zuko was paler than before, his forehead creased, and his eyes pressed shut. She rested a palm against his forehead.

"You should still be in bed," she told him.

"Mmm." He drew in a slow, shuddering breath, and his eyes opened a slit. "Too late. I'm stuck here."

She almost wanted to argue with him, to order him back to his bed so he could rest and heal properly. So that she could keep him and the supplies—the fresh bandages, the clean water, the medicines—all within reach. But he had a point. If he couldn't sit without being overcome by pain, he wouldn't be able to walk back to his room. And the thought of trying to carry him was too much for Katara. She was tired too.

"No wandering off without me next time," she ordered. "I don't want you getting stuck anywhere dangerous, understand?"

Zuko gave a small nod. "Mmhmm."

Slowly, Katara exhaled. He was okay. Even if he was a little fuzzy, a little confused right now, he was going to heal, and he would be healthy again.

"Here." She picked her blanket up from where it had fallen behind her and spread it over the prickly, dry grass. "This should be more comfortable."

Slipping her hand beneath his shoulders, she pulled him up just far enough so that she could help him scoot onto the blanket an inch or two at a time. Zuko grimaced and groaned at the motion, but when Katara finally lowered him back to the ground, his face relaxed again. With a contented little sigh, he nestled against her side, and his hand crept out to find hers.

She gave in, squeezing his hand in response before lying down on the blanket beside him. Her head rested lightly against his shoulder, and he smiled, soft and small, eyes still shut.

"I came out here because I wanted to see the turtleduckies," Zuko said, barely over a whisper. His brow creased. "Tlurtleduckings. Turtledluckings."

"Turtleducklings?" Katara offered.

He nodded. "Those."

She smiled and snuggled into his shoulder. "I think you might be delirious."

"Am I?"

Reaching upward, she smoothed the hair back from his eyes. "Maybe just a little."

"Mmm." He let out a small sigh. "The turtleduckies must be sleeping."

Katara couldn't help herself. Hand still cupped around his face, she stretched upward until her lips brushed against his scarred cheek. She hovered there, pressing all the affection, all the care, all the love she could muster into a small, soft kiss. When she finally pulled away, the faintest hint of a smile playing across his lips was the only sign that he was still awake.

"I'm sure the turtleducklings will be very happy to see you when they wake up," she whispered to him.

His mouth twitched into another small smile, then he lapsed into silence, his breathing growing slower, steadier, until he finally dropped off to sleep.

Beside him, Katara rolled onto her back and stared into the arching branches overhead. Someday. Someday soon he'd be well enough to kiss her back.

#zutara #zutara week #zutara week 2020 #fanfiction #zutara fanfiction #Rebirth #soopersara's scribbles

116 notes · View notes

sukifans · 4 years

Text

PET • RI • CHOR

[n] a pleasant smell that accompanies the first rain after a long period of warm, dry weather

ZUKO X OC SERIES

SUMMARY: a captured waterbender and the fire prince may sound like an unlikely pair, but kena never much cared about others’ expectations and zuko, well… he was just along for the ride

A/N: we have read more cuts, bitches. also iroh is the ultimate wingman lmao. enjoy this pt it is very soft and fun ~

⏎ MASTERLIST // PART I « PART II » PART III

Zuko found himself walking down the seemingly endless corridors of the Fire Nation palace. He caught sight of his reflection in a window pane and stopped to look. He quickly reached up to touch his face when he realized he no longer had his scar. The skin that was usually rough and dry and cracked was now as smooth as the rest of his cheek. His hair was longer, pulled half-up in a top knot that held the Fire Lord’s hairpiece. He moved his fingers away from his face to touch the golden flame but stopped when he heard a voice.

“Hey, over here!” the voice called. He turned and saw the familiar girl from the tea house standing at the other end of the corridor. She giggled before running off, rounding a corner.

“Wait!” he shouted, chasing after her. He was only barely keeping up, just catching glimpses of her long braid or her clothes whipping around a corner before she disappeared again. He stopped when he saw her standing still in front of a doorway, smiling. “Who are you?”

Her face immediately fell and her eyes filled with tears. Guilt squeezed his chest, making it hard to breathe. “You mean, you don’t remember me, Zuko?”

“I- I’m sorry. You’re so familiar, I just can’t place you-“ he stammered.

“You forgot me!” she roared, face contorting with anger now. He took a step back, frightened by her distorted features. “You killed me, and now you forgot me! How could you?”

“I d-didn’t kill anyone,” he whispered. The girl opened her mouth wider than should’ve been possible and let out an inhuman wail, running into the dark room beyond the doorway. Against his better judgement, he followed.

Zuko’s heart raced when he looked around and found himself in the Agni Kai room he’d been burned in. Three figures stood in the middle of the room with their backs to him, one on their knees between the other two. Cautiously, he approached. He felt sick to his stomach when he saw his father and Azula were the two standing figures. On her knees was the waterbending girl from the infirmary he’d known as a child. Ozai was holding her by her hair as silent tears rolled down her cheeks, forcing her to hold her head up.

“Let her go,” Zuko demanded. Ozai and Azula both laughed.

“Or what, Zuzu? You can’t fight both of us and protect the snow savage,” Azula purred. She crouched down and grabbed Kena’s face roughly, her sharp nails digging into her skin. Kena whimpered helplessly and Zuko felt like he’d been hollowed out. The poor girl’s whole body was trembling with fear.

“Zuko, help me. Please,” she whispered desperately. He tried to move to reach her but his feet were rooted to the spot. Ozai yanked her hair and Kena swallowed a yelp.

“Look, little girl. He’s not going to save you. In fact, he gave you to me.” He forced her head back up to make her look Zuko in the eye.

“I didn’t! Kena, please-“

“Beg, savage, and maybe he’ll help you,” Ozai snarled, throwing her onto her face at Zuko’s feet. No matter how hard he tried, he still couldn’t move. He felt like he might fall apart when he and Kena made eye contact just as she started sobbing openly and loudly.

“Zuko, please! Don’t hurt me! I’ll do anything, just please don’t hurt me again!”

“I- I would never-“ he started but was cut off by Kena’s desperate cries as she dropped her head again. “I’m trying but I can’t move.”

She tilted her head up and suddenly she was older — the girl from the tea shop again. With a rush he realized he could move again and immediately dove down to scoop her up. As soon as he touched her, she screamed like she’d been burned and scrambled away from him, looking terrified. Ozai laughed again and grabbed her by the throat, lifting her up off the ground so her feet barely skimmed the floor. She desperately clawed at his arm but Ozai was entirely unbothered. She was struggling to breathe, chest heaving while she choked and sputtered.

“You will learn respect, and suffering will be your teacher,” his father said and Zuko’s blood turned to ice in his veins.

Azula approached Kena with her hand engulfed in blue flame. The waterbender thrashed and fought but couldn’t get free, not before Azula brought her hand to her face-

“Kena!” Zuko sat bolt upright in his bed, drenched in sweat and his heart racing. His blanket was tangled and twisted around his legs and his pillow was somehow across the room. When he realized what he’d seen had just been a nightmare, he started trying to calm himself down with deep, uneven breaths, holding his head in his shaking hands.

Kena. She was here. She spoke with him. Hell, he had a date with her in less than twenty four hours. Sana had told him that she and her mother had escaped from the palace before being executed, but he had never been sure whether or not she was lying to spare his feelings. To see her here, alive and seemingly happy... he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to speak to her again without blowing his cover. She didn’t seem to recognize him, what with the scar and all the time that has passed. He didn’t know if he preferred that over her knowing it was him or not.

Sighing, Zuko slipped out of bed and started to dress himself. He needed to get out for a bit and take a walk, maybe pick a fight, to clear his head. He slung his swords in their sheath over his shoulder and tied the ribbon of his mask around his head before creeping out of the apartment, careful not to wake Iroh. He wandered down the empty streets, sticking to the shadows cast by the shoddy buildings of the Lower Ring in the moonlight and slipped into small alleyways to avoid running into any late-night stragglers.

His breath caught in his throat when he turned into an alley see someone else at the other end. There stood a woman in a flowing white dress with a large black bag across her body. Most peculiarly, she also wore a mask — a black base painted with white detail to depict a smiling koi face. She cocked her head curiously as they studied each other silently. He briefly considered pulling out his swords, believing he’d found his fight, but changed his mind when he realized she didn’t seem to be carrying any weapons. If she had, surely she would’ve drawn it by now.

Slowly, she nodded to him in acknowledgement before turning and disappearing around the corner. He hurried to follow but she was nowhere to be seen when he poked his head out of the alley. Maybe she really was a spirit of some sort. Ba Sing Se was certainly weird enough for it.

Kena woke up late in the morning, sunshine streaming in through her small window and directly across her closed eyelids. She sighed and turned over, burying her face into the pillow to maybe sneak a few more minutes. That, is until whoever was at the door started banging on it again like they had been when they’d woken her. She continued to lay there, listening for Fera. They knocked again. Clearly Fera wouldn’t be answering this morning. She had probably already left for her job as a maid for a wealthy family in the Upper Ring. Groaning, she pushed herself to her feet and wrapped her robe around her body.

“I’m coming, I’m coming! Spirits, just stop banging on the door before you break the damn thing!” She yanked the door open only to immediately be trampled by four raucous girls rushing into the apartment.

“Morning, sunshine!”

“Are you okay? You just left us yesterday!”

“Yeah, you looked like you’d run into a spirit or something!”

“Did he reject you for some reason? Do we need to go knock him around for a bit until he finds his sense?”

“Because we totally will.”

“Yeah, we can take that skinny kid, easy.”

Kena laughed at her friends. “Guys, it’s fine. Last night I just remembered that Fera had asked me to pick something up for dinner from the market and I’d totally forgotten so I had to hurry. Sorry I didn’t say anything, you know my one-track mind.” She went to the kitchen to put on some tea while the rest all settled down in the living room.

“But you did ask him out, right?” Jin pressed and Kena rolled her eyes, cheeks heating up.

“Yes. You guys shoved me back in there.”

The girls looked at her expectantly. “And? What did he say?” Mona gestured for her to continue, raising her eyebrows.

“He said yes,” she answered quietly and her friends immediately started hooting and hollering. “Shut up! The neighbors are gonna make a noise complaint again!”

“Aren’t you excited, Sola?” Kyali sighed dreamily, clasping her hands. “I don’t think you’ve been on a date in the entire time we’ve known you and now you’re going out with this hot, brooding, mysterious guy.”

“I bet he writes poetry,” said Oma. “Maybe he’ll write something about you!”

“You guys are insane,” Kena laughed, shaking her head. “All of you need to stop reading those garbage romance books.”

“Look, we all already know you’re Miss Independent and you don’t need a man or whatever. You can be excited about your date tonight,” Jin said pointedly. Kena rolled her eyes as she carried over the pot of tea and five cups.

“Fine, okay; I’m a little excited,” she said, pouring everyone a cup before sitting on the mat next to Mona. She was more than a little excited, but for different reasons than her friends thought. She was also incredibly nervous, unsure of whether or not to confront her childhood best friend.

Mona took a sip and smirked. “Is this jasmine?” Kena shook her head exasperatedly, hiding a smile, as her friends all laughed.

Zuko sat on the floor in front of his uncle, who by all appearances was attacking him with a small comb. He winced when the teeth pulled through another knot, grumbling.

“Nephew, when was the last time you combed your hair?” Iroh tsked as he gave another mighty pull.

“I’ve had bigger things to worry about recently, in case you forgot,” Zuko responded. Iroh sighed dramatically.

“Often, we only feel inside as good as we look outside,” he said. Zuko rolled his eyes.

“This seems like a little much.”

“It’s your first date with this girl! You need to make a good first impression.”

“I’ve already made a first impression. She knocked me over and cut her hand open.”

“And that was very kind of you to help her!”

“You kind of gave me no choice.”

“I could tell you liked her, I was just pushing you in the right direction,” Iroh said smugly and Zuko grimaced. “But you’re still working on your first impression. A first impression only ends when the relationship does.”

“That doesn’t make any sense, Uncle.” Zuko made a strangled noise of protest as Iroh started slicking his hair down with some sort of slimy paste.

“I used to be very popular with the ladies in my prime. I can give you some tips, if you’d like.”

“I would not,” Zuko interjected quickly but his uncle steamrolled ahead anyways.

“First, you should compliment her as soon as you see her. Tell her she is more radiant than the first fire lily of spring.”

“Talking about fire lilies seems like a bad move,” Zuko said. His cheeks tinged pink, however, remembering the fire lily he gave her that night in the palace — the last time he’d ever seen her until the day before.

“Perhaps you’re right, Nephew,” Iroh mused, looking thoughtful. “Instead, tell her that her eyes are more captivating than a moon flower during a lunar eclipse. Or, perhaps that her presence is as warm and comforting as a fresh cup of tea on a winter night! Remember, this could be your future wife!”

“That’s enough, thank you.” Zuko stood quickly, having heard enough to be sufficiently embarrassed. “You’re going to make me late if you keep messing with my hair.”

“I suppose that will be as good as it’s going to get, then. Do a turn so I can see you properly.”

“Uncle, honestly-“

“Turn, Prince Zuko.” Exasperated, Zuko turned in a quick circle, shoulders tense as Iroh scrutinized him. “You look very handsome! But you would look much better if you smiled.” Iroh beamed as if to demonstrate and Zuko gave him a sour look. “I said ‘smile,’ not ‘scowl.’ Don’t do that in front of her.”

“I’m leaving now,” Zuko said flatly, walking towards the door.

“Be nice! Pay for dinner! Don’t frown! Stay out as late as you want, I won’t wait up,” Iroh called after him as he hurried out.

Kena felt her heart start racing when she caught sight of him outside the Pao Family Tea House, hair combed and flattened into a middle part that she had to swallow a laugh about — surely Iroh’s work.

“Hey, Lee,” she said as she approached. “You look so cute.” She laughed and she ruffled his hair. He gave her a pained look and caught her wrist in his hand.

“It took my uncle ten minutes to do my hair.”

“That’s sweet,” she said with a soft smile, surprising him as she laced their fingers together. He willed himself not to go red in the face. “Come on, the festival’s already begun!”

She dragged him through the streets, talking excitedly about the food she wanted him to try and a few performers that would be on the stage in the middle of the Lower Ring later. He didn’t say much, just enjoyed her presence and the fact that she was alive and here and somehow with him. Any chance he got he stared at her, analyzing every detail of her face and comparing it to what he could remember from childhood. She still had the same medium-brown skin, dark hair, and grey eyes of course, but it all felt new and exciting again; her hair was longer and flowed freely down her back and her eyes, though still kind and sparkling, held something deeper that had not been there before. He also noticed a long, thin white scar that trailed down the left side of her face from her forehead, through her eyebrow, and down to the corner of her jaw. The thought of someone hurting her made him angrier than he’d anticipated, but he tried not to focus on it. Instead he fixated on how she was almost always smiling or laughing, how casually and comfortably she touched him when she held his hand or grabbed his arm when he made her laugh or brushed her fingers against his forehead when she put a goofy hat she’d won in a game on top of his head. It had been a long time since he’d let himself just be around someone, and it felt incredible. She was still, despite everything, so unabashedly Kena that it made his heart squeeze in his chest. He didn’t know how he hadn’t recognized her as soon as he laid eyes on her, because it seemed overwhelmingly obvious now.

Kena, meanwhile, was trying her hardest to get him to slip up. Something had happened between that night and the day before, because she saw immediately from the way he looked at her that he knew. She figured it was only a matter of time before he misstepped somewhere.

“Lee is an interesting name,” she’d mentioned casually as they watched two contortionists on stage twist themselves into impossible positions.

“I really have to beg to differ on that one,” he’d said in response.

“It’s just a very common name in the Fire Nation, you know? Before I came to Ba Sing Se, there were at least a dozen people named Lee in even the smallest villages. But oddly enough, I’ve never met anyone named Lee here except for you.”

He’d simply shrugged and said, “my village was colonized by the Fire Nation decades ago. I guess the name bled into the local culture.” She’d hummed noncommittally at that and went back to square one with a new plan.

“So, you mentioned you and your uncle traveled around a lot,” she’d started. “Why?”

He hesitated just a beat too long. “We were... uh, part of this traveling circus.” She couldn’t believe he didn’t have a better lie ready.

“Really? What did you do? Actually, let me guess.” She tapped her chin for dramatic effect as she considered something Zuko would likely be awful at. Her face split into a wicked grin. “You juggled!”

He looked at her, slightly annoyed. “Yeah, you got me. I juggled.”

“I’ve always wanted to learn how to juggle. Can you show me something?” She handed him a couple small fruits from a cart they were standing near, looking up at him expectantly. He looked ashen as he slowly took them from her. Awkwardly, he threw them up in the air and they flew in wildly different directions, one landing directly on his head.

“I haven’t practiced for a while.” He cleared his throat, a deep red creeping across his cheeks as she laughed.

“Ah, I understand.”

When they stopped for food at a noodle cart, she’d mentioned they offered supposedly authentic Fire Nation fire flakes. He’d nodded in acknowledgement and then ordered the blandest thing on the menu. The prince was certainly going to give her a run for her money.

Zuko didn’t understand why she kept bringing up the Fire Nation throughout the night. Did she know? He didn’t think she did. She hadn’t at the tea shop, why would she now? Did he do something to tip her off? She’d been in Ba Sing Se for many years; she most likely had heard nothing about his banishment or his hunt for the Avatar and had yet to bring up anything about his scar. He hoped that she didn’t think he was here to hurt people — surely she wouldn’t have asked him on a date if she thought that, right?

Night had long since fallen, but the streets were still bursting with light and life from the festival. He had a small grin on his face while he watched Kena start an argument with a man running some rigged betting game. She accused him of cheating and he shouted at her to leave immediately or he’d call in the Dai Li. Grumbling, Kena grabbed his hand again and stalked away. He was still smiling as she pulled him along and she sent him a (mostly) playful glare.

“What are you grinning at? I just lost ten silver pieces!” she huffed.

“You,” he responded without thinking. Realizing what he said, he quickly shut his mouth. They both flush and looked away from each other.

She took in a deep breath to regain her composure before turning her head to look at him again. “Do you want to see something cool?” There was no way he would’ve been able to refuse that excited look in her eye, even if he’d wanted to.

Zuko followed as she lead him into an alley and started climbing up a fire escape. He watched as she nimbly maneuvered herself higher and higher. “Are you sure this is... legal?” he asked hesitantly.

“It’s not,” she called down to him, peeking her head over the railing, “but it’s alright! We’re crafty. Now hurry up or we’ll miss it!”

“If you say so...” he trailed off as he gripped the side of the ladder and started making his way up. When he reached the top, he found her sitting with her legs dangling over the edge of the flat roof and staring at the city skyline, holding her chin in her hands. He sat down next to her and took the opportunity of the quiet moment to examine her profile illuminated by the festival lights below. She leaned her head on his shoulder and sighed contentedly. At first he tensed but then he slowly relaxed, slowly wrapping his arm around around her waist. They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, taking in the view. Well, she was taking in the view; Zuko was trying to ignore the goosebumps running across his skin from her warm breath dancing across his neck.

“Lee,” she started quietly, “I know we just met yesterday, but I think I really like you.”

“I really like you, too,” he agreed, surprising himself a little. He rested his cheek on top of her head and closed his eyes. She still smelled the same — something fresh and pleasant and clean that he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

Kena was tired of dancing around what they both knew. Throwing caution to the wind, she cleared her throat and spoke. “You know, I used to be a servant for the royal family in the Fire Nation.”

He cursed himself for the way his whole body flinched. “Yeah? How was that?”

“Terrible. I was taken from my home when I was young and kept there for years. It was just my mom and I.”

“No friends?”

“They don’t exactly let the help just make friends all willy-nilly. That’s a good foundation for a staff revolt.” She rolled her eyes. “I did have one friend I managed to make though.”

“Oh, that’s nice.”

“Yeah, except he was the prince.”

She heard his breath hitch. “Oh. That’s rough.”

“Yeah. That’s why we had to leave, actually. Ozai found out and was not happy his firebender son was making nice with someone like me. Apparently he wanted to execute us to make some sort of point, but Ursa and the other servants helped us sneak out of the palace before we were taken to be killed.”

“I’ve heard a lot of good about Ursa,” he said softly, tenderness in his voice.

“She was a wonderful woman. There was a lot of her in the prince, too. I guess that’s why I liked them so much.” He said nothing, so she continued. “It broke my heart to leave. I never even got to say goodbye even though I pinky-promised to see him again the night before Ozai found out.” She thought for a moment. “I always wondered if he ever thought of me, because I thought of him all the time.”

“I- he did. Probably. I don’t know,” he huffed. “I mean that I think, if it were me, I would’ve thought about you every day.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They were quiet for a long time before Kena finally spoke, smiling faintly. “You and your uncle stick out like two sore thumbs here.”

His shoulder shook under her cheek when he chuckled. “I know. I think it started out as a joke, and then we actually couldn’t think of anything better.”

She sat up straight now and cupped his face in her hands. Gently, she brushed her thumb over the rough, gnarled skin on his cheek. She wasn’t sure why, but a few slow tears rolled down her cheeks. “We match,” she said softly, meeting his eyes when he used his fingertip to trace the scar that ran down her face.

“It looks much better on you,” he joked and she gave him a watery smile. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

Suddenly, she lunged at him to squeeze him in a tight hug, knocking them both backwards into a pile. “It’ll take a lot more than your awful father to kill me,” she murmured into his chest from her position on top of him. Hesitant at first, he wrapped his arms around her. It just felt so right to be with her again. He couldn’t help tightening his grip and burying his face into her cascade of hair. In the background he could hear fireworks going off, but he didn’t care about anything that wasn’t her.

“I missed you, Kena,” he said, so quietly the wind almost carried the words away. His lungs ached because her name on his lips felt like a long, full breath of fresh air after years underwater.

“I missed you too, Zuko.” Her cool skin against his warmth felt like a wave of water over the flames inside of him. He finally, for the first time he could remember since losing his mother, felt safe. He clutched at her clothes to pull her in as close as possible, breathing her in deeply. She smelled like the first monsoon after a lifelong dry season; she smelled like petrichor.

A/N:

TAGS: @beifongsss @the-lva-way @lammello @llorom6nnic @idkdude776 @aangsupremacy @royahllty @mamooska8 @bucky-blogs @youneedmemanidonotneedyou @eridanuswave @rosetheshapeshifter @fantasticchaoticwho @bwndito @dancerslovelife @justab-eautifulmess

#mine #petrichor #atla #avatar the last airbender #atla fic #atla fanfic #zuko #prince zuko #zuko x oc #prince zuko x reader #zuko fanfic #avatar fic #zuko fluff #zuko fic #zuko x reader #the last airbender

122 notes · View notes

muertawrites · 4 years

Text

Two Halves - Chapter Six (Zuko x Reader)

Part Five

Word Count: 2,100

Author’s Note: Wow it’s been a clusterfuck this week. I’ve been exhausted and unable to concentrate for the past few days, and then today when I tried to release this chapter for patrons it turned out that all of Cloudflare was down, so something like 12 million sites worldwide were just completely unreachable. I plan to force myself into going to bed early tonight so I can actually get myself back on track and be productive over the weekend (I have two requests I want to publish so they don’t get pushed back into all my ideas for next month, and I also want to look into other ad providers outside of Adsense so I can start saving up money for my eventual move out of the country). I promise that next week will be less of a bummer chapter. Here’s hoping sometime we’ll actually catch a fookin break, m8.

~ Muerta

You stand in the portrait hall, awaiting its newest addition with Rina; she grips your arm, clapping giddily as the towering scroll unfurls to reveal the painted image of you and Zuko beside one another.

In it, you're seated to his left side, mirroring the generations of other wedding portraits that line the massive hall; what's different is not only the color and style of your robes, but the fact that Zuko’s hand rests on your shoulder, yours clasped firmly within it. When he did so, the royal historian who was present instructed that the Firelord and lady were never depicted touching one another - you'd placed your hand over his in a unified stance of defiance. You'd also been asked to remove your betrothal necklace for the portrait, and had told the historian in a few choice words exactly why it would be staying on; you still feel the rush in your veins of hearing Zuko mumble “that's my girl” under his breath.

“Oh, it's gorgeous!” Rina exclaims, bouncing excitedly on her toes. “The Firelord looks so handsome in a Water Tribe silhouette; I'm so glad you did this!”

You laugh, hugging her by the arm that's hooked with your own and unable to deny the fact that the Southern style tunic you had the seamstress make for him does provide a nice view of his body, highlighting more of his broad shoulders and sturdy midriff than the billow of traditional Fire Nation robes. It also pairs well with his chest plate, making him look every part the skilled warrior he is instead of some aristocratic monarch ruling only by privilege. Beside him, his fingers locked between yours, your gaze steely and knowing behind layers of ink, you look like a weapon instead of just a wife; you start to think there might be much more reason Hakoda arranged your alliance with Zuko than just forming a concrete tie between your nations.

“My lady,” one of the palace messengers addresses you, bowing respectfully as he approaches. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but Advisors Sung and Qiang request an audience with you in their offices.”

You and Rina look between each other, Rina’s eyebrows raised in confusion.

“Just me?” you ask. “Should I also send for the Firelord?”

“No, your majesty,” the messenger says. “The councilmen asked that only you be sent for.”

You nod, bowing to the messenger in thanks before taking Rina’s arm once more, walking in pace with her to the administrative wing of the palace.

“They’re sure to send me out of the room,” Rina tells you, speaking in a hushed, conspiratorial tone. “I’m unsure about Advisor Sung, but Qiang has never trusted servants with any kind of information; he used to work information security under Firelord Ozai until he defected after Prince Zuko’s banishment.”

“If he won’t allow you in the room, you’ll wait at the door,” you state. “Whether he likes it or not, I still have more power than he does.”

When you arrive at the international affairs office, Qiang and Sung are seated around a small table, primed in wait for you. You make a point of not bowing in return when they do so upon your announcement, instead choosing to simply nod in greeting. Sung smiles at you in his polite, pleasant way as you sit, while Qiang eyes you with a cold, almost uncertain stare.

“My lady,” Sung welcomes you, “I apologize for bringing you here on such short notice, but there are urgent matters that must be discussed. As you know, Advisor Qiang has taken the liberty of guiding me as I adjust to my new position as the head of international affairs, and we’ve been mulling over the matter of your wedding portrait for the past few days.”

“More specifically,” Qiang interjects, “we’ve been discussing the stunt you pulled in deciding your wardrobe. Many people across the Fire Nation are not pleased to see their Firelord in Water Tribe garments.”

“It was simply a tunic,” you calmly defend yourself. “The only other change was to the color. Has anyone taken issue with the fact that I wore a Water Tribe dress under a Fire Nation robe?”

You glance between the two men, expecting the question to be entirely rhetorical - you know the answer already, but as you guessed, they’re either too cowardly or too correct to say it aloud.

“We understand your intentions,” Sung replies after a beat, “but we’re uncertain the execution of your ideas is as tactful as it should be; I know I needn’t remind you that we’re still living in very unstable times as of the end of the war.”

“I understand your concern, but I don’t think the nature of our mixed heritage is the most pressing issue at hand,” you say. “The world experienced a century of cruelty under Fire Nation imperialism - it’s important that we reform our militant image in every way we can. Dressing me like a traditional Firelady when I very clearly am not one would have upset far more people than just our citizens.”

“The Fire Nation is still very powerful,” Advisor Qiang argues, “even with the abolition of many of the Earth Kingdom colonies. Upsetting our people could have consequences that reach beyond the mainland’s borders.”

His words are spat at you almost like a threat. You tilt your chin a little higher, meeting his gaze without faltering.

“What do you suggest, then?” you ask.

“We want to keep watch on you,” Qiang tells you. “Our aids will accompany you as you gain more freedom from the Firelord and guide you to ensure that your actions reflect the image the nation wants to see from their leader.”

“This sounds like something Advisor Yong should oversee,” you evenly contest. “I'm certain my husband would like to have his say, as well.”

“We simply wanted to present the idea to you,” Advisor Sung cuts in. “We thought it might give you more peace of mind to have someone beside you; teach you how to properly present yourself to the people of the Fire Nation.”

“You can send your aids to keep tabs on me,” you reply, “but I am still your superior. Firelord Zuko has been more than an adequate mentor. I don't need another one.”

“Do you suggest we have you answer to the Firelord on our behalf, then?” Advisor Qiang asks, sounding skeptical.

“I'm stating that I don't answer to anyone,” you respond. “Zuko is my equal. You're the one born and raised in the Fire Nation - you should understand that better than anyone.”

Qiang fixes you with the chilled, empty glare you noticed your first day in the council’s meeting chambers. You keep your own expression blank, refusing to avert your eyes from their lock on his.

“My lady,” Advisor Sung addresses you, “I promise you, we mean no offense. We truly have your best intentions at heart; we understand that the culture of the Fire Nation is very different from that of the Southern Water Tribe, and only want to keep you safe in the wake of Advisor Fen’s passing. We believe taking extra care in how you interact with our people is the only way to move forward.”

“Alright,” you say, standing abruptly. “I'd like some hands-on training, then. I need fabric to build my wardrobe with, and want to explore my new home. Gather your aids - I’m taking them to the market.”

To say that people are shocked to see the Firelady out amongst common folk is an understatement.

You travel in a rather large group, flanked not only by Rina, Iroh, and Toph, but three of Qiang and Sung’s aids and a small army of royal guards. People flee when you approach, some of them going as far as to fall to their knees before you, bowing out of fear; each time, you offer your hand and help them back to their feet, explaining that you're only out to do some shopping. Once more onlookers notice your kind, gentle handling of those who cross your path, panic turns to interest, many people staring at you as you pass or calling out to you, saying hello; a little girl manages to get past the guards, scurrying out of her father’s flower shop and through their legs, stopping in front of you with an adorably clumsy bow to present you with a dandelion she picked from between the cracks in the cobblestone street.

“Why, thank you!” you exclaim, daintily taking the flower from her chubby little hand and bowing in return. “It's very beautiful, just like you.”

You twist the dandelion into your hair before walking the girl back to her father, who apologizes and thanks you profusely; you assure him it's no trouble.

“How very touching,” Iroh says to you once you continue on your way. “I wonder what the aids will tell their superiors.”

You huff, smirking at him out of the corner of your eye.

“Probably that I don't inspire enough fear,” you mock. “I thought the dictatorship ended when my dear father-in-law was thrown in prison.”

“The memories of his reign are still very fresh,” Iroh explains. “A brute hand is all much of the Fire Nation knows in a leader; it is hard to bring change.”

“I still don't like our little entourage,” Toph remarks, loud enough that the men trailing you can certainly hear. “Aang never travels with guards, and he's got a way bigger target on his head than you do.”

“Yeah, but he can also bend everything,” you remind her. “I've never even held a spear.”

“I'm blind and I still kick hella ass,” Toph replies. “You don't have an excuse.”

You roll your eyes, grinning as you shove her sideways so she stumbles; she laughs, coming back at you with a hard punch to the boob and blowing a raspberry into your face. You can't help but cackle, taking her into a headlock and scruffing up her hair.

“My lady,” one of the aids pipes up, her nose wrinkled in disdain, “this isn't proper etiquette for a Fire Nation queen.”

“Oh, spirits forbid anybody be human,” Toph groans. “The war is over and this is a leisure trip. People have to get used to the Firelady acting like a person instead of a government puppet.”

Rina takes hold of your arm, leaning in close to your ear.

“I like her,” she whispers. “Can we ask her to stay?”

You laugh, shaking your head.

“I wish,” you mumble back, “but Toph sort of just does what she wants.”

You choose a small, cozy-looking shop to buy fabrics from, everyone in the group (save for the aids and guards, who have no choice but to wait outside) making easy, pleasant conversation with the owners; they're a relatively young couple from Omashu, who came to the Fire Nation after the war to trade fabrics that weren't widely available in either country, wanting to bring more options to each place. Their shop is filled with soft cottons and delicately embroidered patterns, many laced with shimmering metals and gems only found in the Earth Kingdom; you purchase a few yards of almost everything, leaving them a contact to the palace so that they can come and discuss expanding their trade routes. Everyone is pleased except for the aids, who look on with disapproving glares.

When you return to the palace, you find not only Zuko awaiting you, but Qiang and Sung as well; you hardly acknowledge the two councilmen, instead going straight to Zuko’s side.

“Rina sent me a message about your meeting this morning,” he murmurs. “I told Advisor Yong, too. They should have come to both of us.”

You nod, taking him by the arm and leading him away from the larger group, out into an open corridor surrounding a courtyard that sits off the entrance hall of the palace’s administrative wing.

“There has to be something we can do, right?” you wonder. “We’re above them. We have the final say in everything.”

Zuko sighs, taking your hands within his and holding you close to him, chests pressed together.

“We’re supposed to,” he says. “But my grandfather taught my father and sister how to manipulate their way into power. Lots of other government officials learned it, too, and it hasn’t completely gone away.”

Advisor Qiang passes through on the other side of the courtyard, eyeing you with his signature frigid gaze as Advisor Sung and the aids trail behind him. You look away from him, focusing only on Zuko.

“We have to keep the people on our side,” you murmur. “The government may be able to manipulate itself into submission, but they're no match for everyone else. The world beat them once - we can beat them again.”

📚 table of contents 📚

✨ join me on patreon ✨

{ subscribers: @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @celamoon @omgwhattheeven @i-am-not-a-thot @fandomtrash1616 @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @just-another-romantic @berkeliums @eridanuswave @oleander-in-the-wind @kinismanditory @lammello @peppermenty @theawesomefactor123 @loganrwebb @ijustwannabecanadian @a-hopeless-fan @softvv @oddment-niwit-blubber-tweak @pearl-stonecutter @crazy0t @commander-rex @kittyddandnyla @abbyarchie @smol-grandpa @nonbinary-rogers @themanwiththemetalarmsdoll @witchywrter @canibea-whore-yet @fuckwhateverfuck @eridanuswave @duh-dobrik }

137 notes · View notes

kurlyfrasier · 3 years

Text

No-One But Her: Part 1

Zuko x Katara

Synopsis: Katara flees from the newly crowned fire lord, thinking it's what is best for him, but the moment she sets foot on a Fire Nation supply ship she starts hearing Zuko’s voice and dreaming of how he handles her disappearance.

Word Count: 1387

Warnings: None

Her breathing is heavy, chest burning from exertion until she realizes it’s not her who’s running. The red pillars, dark walls, and gold trimming flew by in a blur. This was the palace of the Fire Nation- and someone was running, but from what? To where? Whose eyes is she looking through?

“Where is she!” The voice demands in a panic- a voice she knew all too well- slamming the doors open to- an empty room?

“Who?” He turns to find the one man who was always there for him setting down a steaming cup of tea. The sight would make her smile if Zuko wasn’t in such a panic.

“Uncle?” He breathes out, utterly confused.

“Yes, Nephew. It is me.” Iroh sips his tea and waits for Zuko to answer his simple question.

“It doesn’t matter,” Zuko clips. “She clearly didn’t want to stay.”

Iroh hums.

Their vision blurs as tears build in his eyes, he swallows before continuing. “She didn’t even say goodbye, Uncle.” He chokes out. “She just...left. Without a word. I woke up thinking I would finally get to tell-” he stopped himself short.

Katara wonders who he’s talking about as he attempts to keep the smoke coming out of his fists from turning into volatile flames.

“Are we speaking of Master Katara?” The older man quietly asks.

Long suffering silence is met with a whispered, “yes,” when the world goes dark.

***

Katara gasps awake, cold sweat dripping from her face, hands shaking as she moves hair away from her sticky forehead. Sitting up, she looks around and remembers convincing a Fire Nation Sea Captain into letting her travel with them as they take supplies to the Earth Kingdom. She used Zuko as an excuse to tag along.

“Fire Lord Zuko wants me to make sure you’re treated decently when you get there.”

The captain looked at her skeptically.

“Think about it; a waterbender helping the Fire Nation bring supplies to the Earth Kingdom shows you’re there peacefully. Plus,” she sings, forcing a smile on her lips, “it helps having a master waterbender around during storms.”

“A master waterbender, eh?” The captain strokes his beard thoughtfully.

“Not just any master waterbender, either,” Katara smirked as the captain’s eyebrows rose to his hairline. “But the waterbender who healed Fire Lord Zuko after his Agni Kai with Princess Azula.” Katara didn’t particularly feel great about flaunting what she did, but when one is running away, one must use everything she has at her disposal.

“You are Master Katara!” He jumps back, smile stretching from ear to ear as he points to her. “Why didn’t you say so! I would be honored to have you aboard,” he bows low and Katara hopes he doesn’t do that during the entire trip. “I would never want to disappoint such a close friend and healer of Fire Lord Zuko’s, especially one who helped defeat Princess Azula.

“Why?” Katara jumps at the raspy voice, head snapping to the door of the captain’s quarters where she’s sleeping; the captain insisted. Nobody was there. She sighs- sags, really- in relief.

He isn’t here. Zuko isn’t here, she reminds herself. Choking on a sob, she swings her legs off the bed and launches to the deck. She needed air.

“I don’t deserve her anyway.”

Katara’s eyes sting and her vision blurs as she tries telling herself that she did the right thing.

“She must hate me.”

The tears fall.

“Why else would she leave?”

Her knees hit the deck with a bang.

“I knew I was imagining things.”

She screams in agony as the ocean rocks the supply ship, mirroring her turmoil.

***

“Nephew,” Iroh opened up the door to see empty fire whisky bottles covering the thick, red carpet. “Nephew!” He ran to Zuko sitting on the floor against his still perfectly made bed, his head lobbed to the side, a hand clutching onto a half-empty bottle. (This time, she is an observer and it hurts just as much as it did when she was seeing through his eyes.)

“Uncle?” He slurs, half-lidded eyes searching.

“Zuko, what are you doing?”

“Forgetting.”

“Come. I will make us some tea,” Iroh drags a stumbling Zuko over to a small table set with tea things on the other side of the room.

“Fire whiskey tea?”

“No, Zuko,” Iroh shakes his head in concern as he hastily (something he never does in haste) heats (with his own hands) and pours the tea. He waits patiently for Zuko to drink a few sips. “Your friends are worried.”

“Not the one that matters,” he mumbles, sobering slightly with each sip from his Uncle’s magical tea, never looking up.

“Zuko! You know that is not true. Your friends care about you. They want you to succeed.”

“Sorry, Uncle…”

“Then prove it.”

“How?” He asks, head bowed even lower in defeat.

“Be the Fire Lord you were meant to be. Using your injury is not a good excuse anymore. Your advisors are becoming anxious. It has been several weeks. Katara herself would not have left if she did not think you were completely healed.”

“But it hurts,” he clutches the fabric of his shirt where he was struck (she wonders if maybe she didn’t heal him completely). Where Katara’s soothing hands cooled the burn.

“I am sure it does my nephew, but you cannot let that stop you from living-”

“My one reason for living is gone, Uncle!” Zuko shot up from his seat, swaying slightly. “Disappeared! She left nothing- no trace behind!” He swiped the air in front of him before continuing bitterly, flames followed in its wake. “She didn’t even tell Aang where she was going, but at least he got to say goodbye.”

“You are wrong,” steely eyes bore into shocked, equally golden eyes as Iroh pulls out an all too familiar stone and silky blue ribbon from his sleeves. “She did leave something. A young maid found it in her room-”

“It’s not just any room, Uncle,” he whispers, staring in awe at the necklace Iroh is holding out to him. His fingers twitch, but he doesn’t reach for it, afraid it will disintegrate in his hands.

“I know.”

“She would never have forgotten this,” he whispers, finally reaching for the necklace with a shaky hand. “It was her mother’s.”

***

Katara wakes with bleary eyes, automatically reaching up to where her mother’s necklace usually rests, the sun high in the sky beat down on her. King Kuei’s garden is lush with thick, soft grass that had lulled her to sleep. After helping the captain out with peacefully handing out supplies to refugees, she left for Ba Sing Se where she thought maybe King Kuei might need help with...something. Anything.

He didn’t, but he asked her to stay as an honored guest anyway. He even invited her into his meetings with his new advisors. Not that she added much to them, if anything. Each meeting only reminds her of why she left the place- the person- she hoped to call home. But all she hears from his advisors are the same things she heard from the Fire Nation’s. The Earth Kingdom advisors even morphed into the sharp lines, suspicious gazes, and reds of the same she ran away from.

“Have you seen the way he looks at her?”

“She will only be a distraction.”

“We must find him a wife who will not distract him.”

“A daughter of the Fire Nation.”

“Yes. One who sits prettily and silent by his side while he brings peace to our nation.”

“That waterbender must go.”

“She would not understand our ways.”

“But first, we must show her our appreciation with a celebration for saving the Fire Lord’s life.”

She felt sick, so she abruptly left that morning’s meeting to get some fresh air. Maybe find a fountain to bend water from in hopes of relaxing just a little bit. Just enough to start healing her heart.

Her dreams have a way of shattering her fragile heart all over again. Especially since she came to the realization that the dreams must be true. Just like his voice must be his thoughts. She isn’t sure why, or how, she came to that realization, but something inside of her knows it’s all real. Ever since she stepped foot onto that supply ship.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 2

19 notes · View notes