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1.
Sokka could smell the soot on his clothes even after Katara had washed them in the river. Dirty ashmakers, he thought as he coughed, lifting his shirt to his nose and pulling a face in disgust.
"Do you think next time the Fire Nation could refrain from torching the village of the first girl I kissed?" He asked, returning to his place next to Katara in Appa's saddle.
His sister glowered at him. "Really? That's all you're thinking about? What about the fact that Aang has the Fire Nation tracking his every move?"
Sokka rolled his eyes. "Come on, it's not like they're a match for our guy. You've seen him Katara, he wipes the floor with them every time they come knocking. Literally!"
"Still, it's not safe for him right now," Katara said.
"Safe for him? What about safe for us, Katara?" Sokka turned to look at her - serious for once - holding up his shirt to show her. "My clothes smell like death, the first girl I've ever kissed's village has been destroyed, and we have no idea where we're going."
Aang decided now would be the best time to chime in, unaware of the tension ricocheting between the siblings. "Of course, we know where we're going! We're going to the Northern Water Tribe!"
The anger drained out of Sokka, replaced instead by tiredness. "Yeah, Aang," he agreed half-heartedly. "You're right."
Katara watched him with a pointed glare.
He, very maturely, retaliated by poking out his tongue.
The three of them settled down for the trip, with Aang at the front guiding Appa (although Sokka still wasn't entirely sure he knew where he was going) and Katara sat next to Sokka, her head resting on his shoulder but her eyes wide open.
Over the past few days of travelling, Sokka had become hesitantly and unwillingly comfortable with flying over the ocean. He had never even left the South Pole, and had never ventured further than where the ice met the Earth Kingdom. He knew the world was large, but it had never seemed that large while he could still compete in snowball fights with his sister. Now they were here, in the Earth Kingdom, with a Fire Nation prince chasing after them with his pathetic team of firebenders while they perched precariously on top of an Air Nomad's flying pet.
The world was vast, diverse, and scary, yet Sokka couldn't help but stay curious about where they would end up.
He hadn't just agreed to this so he could keep an eye on his sister and the twelve-year-old they had adopted (although, there was no way he was letting them go alone); no, he did have ulterior motives. He wanted to see the world. He wanted to fight. He wanted to become a warrior so badly and show his tribe (and his father) just how brave he could be.
Well, what was braver than continually fighting off the Fire Nation prince from capturing the Avatar?
Speaking of, Aang must've had some freaky Avatar powers to read minds, because the young boy turned around to face the back. "Can you tell me about the Fire Nation?"
Sokka screwed up his nose, once again smelling the scent of smoke and ash filling his lungs. "Can we please not talk about that?"
"See, the thing is," Aang said, turning fully around, whipping the wind around him so that he didn't even have to move. "I knew a lot about the Fire Nation, but that was one hundred years ago! And I know a lot has changed since then, so do you guys know anything?" A contemplative look ghosted over his face. "Especially Zuko, like as crown prince is this something he's supposed to do? There was never a crown prince of the Fire Nation when I was a kid so I don't know anything."
There were a great many things Sokka would prefer to do over talking about the Fire Nation. Jumping back into the ocean with the unagi was high on his list above talking about the Fire Nation.
But also, Aang was looking at them like that and the kid had an uncanny resemblance to a baby polar dog when he wanted to.
So, he sighed, closed his eyes, and began. "The Fire Nation is ruthless. They've been waging war for 100 years. They've raided the Southern Water Tribe for that long and they've taken over the majority of the Earth Kingdom. I don't know what else you need to know."
"But, how did they get this way?" Aang asked, and there was a pain in his eyes that Sokka would never understand. "The Fire Nation used to be friends with all the nations. And, why is Zuko so intent on capturing the Avatar?"
Sokka snorted. "Zuko probably just does whatever his daddy tells him to do - Hey! Katara!"
Katara looked unremorseful to the fact that she just punched him in the arm. "You know, Zuko isn't much older than us."
"I, personally, don't care," Sokka said, a layer of hatred coating his tongue as he thought about the young prince. "That scar-face weirdo can go and suck a - Hey! Katara!"
Katara drew her arm back and levelled him a look that was even worse than the one before. "Don't insult someone because of things they can't control!"
"You're so right Katara, I should just go back to insulting him for being a jerk-"
"The thing is, Aang," Katara interrupted, placing a fake smile on her face. "We don't know that much about the Fire Nation, and we especially don't know anything about Zuko. We hadn't even really heard of him until he came crashing into our ice bank and threatened our village."
Aang frowned. "What about his scar? Do you know how he got it?"
Sokka was quickly growing tired of this conversation. "It's probably not that hard, you know, being around firebenders and all. I wouldn't be surprised if they just go around shooting fire at each other for fun." Aang's frown deepened, and Katara punched Sokka once again. "Katara, can you stop punching me!"
"Not until you stop being an idiot," she retorted back.
Aang turned his head back around to the front, his brows furrowed. "I don't… I don't know if that scar was an accident."
Sokka wanted to say back that he didn't care, but the words lodged in his throat. The truth is, he recognised the anger in Zuko's eyes, he recognised the need to prove himself. If Sokka had to guess, he would agree with Aang. That kind of scar didn't look like an accident.
But Sokka didn't want to think about that. He didn't want to think about how close in age he and Zuko were. He didn't want to think about how old that scar was, and how young Zuko must've been when he got it, and he didn't want to think about how they were all children fighting an adult's war and none of them deserved to worry about scars or murdered mothers or being the sole survivor of a genocide.
He didn't want to think about that, so he didn't.
2.
Although Katara had healed her own hands, and Aang's forearm, the skin was still red, tender, and hot.
Jeong Jeong's teachings had proven to be unsuccessful with Aang, and although Katara still believed in him, his crestfallen face told her everything she needed to know about his feelings regarding his firebending training.
Sokka sat at the back of the saddle, the tension thick between the three of them. They hadn't fought like this before, with stakes and injuries and… actual anger. Katara had already forgiven Aang, had forgiven him possibly the very second after she was burned, but Sokka wouldn't forgive so easily.
She recalled a time not so long ago when she was maybe eleven or twelve. Sokka had gone hunting with the older boys in the tribe but had been forced to bring Katara along. He'd complained the entire time, kept pushing her to the back of the group, and generally ignored her for the first half of the trip. That was, until one of the older boys had seen what he thought was a tiger seal, and had thrown his spear preemptively, without regard for where he was aiming. He had grazed the side of Katara's shoulder, and Sokka had been furious. Once the group was back with the tribe, and Katara's shoulder had been tended to, Sokka promised to never forgive that boy.
He'd kept his promise, all the way up until the boy - now man - had gone off to war with the rest of the tribe. Sokka and he had made up then; leaving unresolved arguments before travel was considered bad luck, especially during a war.
Now, Sokka had grown since then, and she didn't think he would treat Aang like that now, but still, the story pushed to the front of her mind as the tension between them dissipated slightly.
They were all tired. It had been so long since they'd had an actual break, and it just seemed that every place they went to, disaster (or the Fire Nation) followed. Zuko, they could handle, but it seemed they now had a new person following their trail.
"Who even is Zhao anyway?" Sokka asked, crossing his arms as he sulked at the back of the saddle. "And why does it seem like he and Zuko are trying to compete? Is it some kind of sport in the Fire Nation to catch the Avatar?"
"He's an admiral, apparently, but he's not a very good one," Aang commented while screwing up his nose. "Shouldn't Zuko outrank him?"
Katara felt a pit in her stomach at the mention of Zuko. "I have a feeling Zuko's title of prince is little more than honorary."
Aang pouted. "What do you mean? A prince is a prince?"
She sighed and looked back down at her hands, feeling the prickly sensation of new skin growing tightly over the raw layer. "What I mean is… people don't treat him like a prince. Honestly, he seems more like the laughing stock of the Fire Nation than anything."
"Okay, okay," Sokka rolled his eyes. "What we're not going to do is feel sympathy for the jerk who's been actively hunting us down for the past month."
Katara scowled at him. "It's not sympathy, it's called observing, Sokka. Maybe you should try it someday."
No, she was not feeling sympathy for the guy who had threatened her village, stole her mother's necklace, kidnapped her, and chased them from the South to the North… but she was gaining a little perspective. She was gaining a newfound understanding.
Aang had burned her, today. He had lost control and burned her. Her hands ached and the skin bubbled away and left ugly blisters and it hurt more than anything else she had ever felt before in her life. And that was Aang's first ever try at firebending; it was uncontrolled and it was dangerous but it was weak, and the burning was quick and it still left that much of a mark.
Zuko's scar…
She found her voice again. "I don't think Zuko's scar was from an accident."
Sokka groaned, loudly. "This again?" He asked, throwing his head back in the wind as if the night sky and its stars would save him. "How many times do I have to tell you that I really don't care about Zuko or the Fire Nation, and I sure as Spirits don't want to talk about them."
Katara turned to Aang, knowing the boy would at least listen to reason. "I think it's important to know your enemies, and this is something pretty important, right?"
Aang nodded solemnly. "The monks taught me that there are two sides to every story and that it's important to understand a person's motivations for their actions."
"Exactly!" Katara agreed. "And… well… after experiencing a burn for myself…"
Aang's ears turned red and his expression grew sheepish and remorseful again.
Katara moved to ease his guilt. "And, actually, it's taught me a lot!"
"It has?" Aang asked, doubtfully.
"It has! Like, how Zuko's scar looks… painful."
Sokka breathed out through his nose loudly, obnoxiously, but looked contemplative. "I've noticed that too. I've noticed that his scar looks like it was done purposefully."
"As a punishment?" Aang asked in disgust, the wind whipping around him more forcefully than what was natural. "That's horrible. Firebending should never be used as punishment like that."
Sokka shrugged. "We don't know if it was punishment. Could've been an enemy of the Fire Nation. It's not like the entire world isn’t against them. I wouldn't be surprised if there were a few traitorous firebenders. Spirits, look at Jeong Jeong!"
"But who could get that close to a prince?" Katara wondered aloud. "Something's not adding up."
The air grew colder, the separation between the easterly winds of the Fire Nation and the chill of the northern Earth Kingdom steadily growing smaller.
Sokka looked down at the map, tracing the coastline upwards to the Northern Water Tribe. "We're almost there, we'll probably make it by the end of the week at most." He looked back up, out towards where the stars shone down on the barren lands below. "We should focus. We have more important things to think about than some stupid prince and his stupid scar."
Katara still felt like she was missing something, something that was staring right in front of her. Zuko and his crew might've been a pain, but at least they didn't seem as cruel as Zhao. Was there a prize to be won for whoever caught the Avatar? How did Zuko know to be near the Southern Water Tribe when Aang came out of the ice?
Whatever, she thought. Maybe Sokka's right. Who cares about his scar? It's probably nothing.
3.
Toph still wasn’t sure what to make of the group she had found herself in. Aang was all flighty and nervous, Sokka was trying to be a leader and failing epicly, and Katara…
Don’t get her started on Katara. The other girl in the group pushed all the buttons that Toph didn’t even know she had. Her decision to leave earlier that day had been the culmination of days and days of arguing and awful luck, and even now she still wasn't sure she would stay with the group.
For the moment, however, she was enjoying her newfound freedom, and things were quiet in the camp now that they were able to get some sleep.
They were sitting around the fire the very next night, well-rested and no longer stressed about crazy royals trying to capture them, when Katara started laughing.
"Oh no, did you still not get enough sleep last night?" Aang asked, desperate, and Toph heard the scuffling of dirt as he moved closer to her. "Katara, listen to me; we have to be normal now."
"No, stop it Aang, I'm fine." There was some commotion around the two of them, all while Katara continued to laugh before Aang seemed to settle down. "It's just- that was Zuko!"
Sokka sounded off in agreement. "Right? I'm so glad I'm not the only one who noticed."
"What do you mean?" Aang asked. "Did I miss something?"
"He doesn't have his stupid ponytail anymore!" Katara exclaimed, giggling through her statement still. "I almost didn't recognise him."
Toph frowned, trying to picture this 'Zuko' guy they kept talking about.
It had only been a few days since Toph had joined their group, and already she could tell that they talked about Zuko quite frequently, and yet this had been the first time they'd run into him since she joined. Toph figured they would be more concerned about Azula and her crazy talented friends, but Zuko came up in conversation much more, despite not seeming to be that big of a threat.
"Who exactly is Zuko?" She asked, crossing her arms.
Katara calmed herself down from her laughing fit. "Well, apparently he's Azula's brother."
Sokka snorted. "That is one weird family."
Katara continued. "He's been chasing us across the world since we left the Southern Water Tribe to capture Aang."
"So, why hasn't he been chasing you recently?" Toph asked.
"He- he has," Katara said, but she didn't sound so sure. "We just saw him and his uncle yesterday. It's obvious they're still after us."
Aang cleared his throat slightly. "Well, to be fair, they didn't seem that interested in capturing me, and actually, they helped in the fight against Azula. We haven't seen them since the Northern Water Tribe."
"So, what?" Sokka grumbled, and Toph felt the fire burn brighter as Sokka tended to it. "They still happen to be right where we are once again. I wouldn't be surprised if it was all just a ploy that the two psycho siblings put together to catch us off guard."
Katara sighed. "I don't know Sokka, Aang's right. We haven't seen them in a while."
"Well, I, for one, am glad we don't have to see that stupid ponytail anymore."
Toph frowned as the conversation continued around her. Her whole life, she had always been kept out of the loop on whatever happened around her; no one ever bothered to explain anything to the blind girl.
Well, she refused to allow herself to feel like that anymore.
"So, what is this… Zuko's deal?" She asked, stretching out along the log. "You've mentioned that he chased you or whatever, but why is he chasing you?"
"He's doing it for his honour, supposedly," Sokka answered, snorting through the answer. "Whatever that means."
Aang hummed in agreement. "He's the prince of the Fire Nation. We… honestly don't know that much about him. Other than the fact that he's been sailing around for a while looking for me."
There was a lull in conversation and Toph furrowed her brows at them, annoyed that she had to work this hard just to get some information out of them. "What does he look like?"
Katara laughed nervously. "Well, he doesn't have that ponytail anymore. He used to have this style where his whole head was shaved except for a section at the top which was in a ponytail."
"Yeah," Sokka said. "His hair is like… normal now. It's slightly cropped. It doesn't show off his scar anymore."
"Scar?" Toph asked as her mental picture of him began to take form from her companion's descriptions. The conversation quieted down again. She raised her head towards them. "What? Is the scar bad?"
She heard shuffling along the dirt on the ground and felt Aang fidget slightly near her. "Well, yeah. It's pretty large, and covers all around his left eye and goes up to his ear."
"Yeah," Katara continued from Aang. "Thinking about it now, it is an awful scar." She paused and then clarified. "A burn scar. I'm surprised he can even see out of that eye."
Toph lowered her head as silence settled upon the group once again.
She didn't know much about burns. Her parents forbid her from ever hearing much about what was happening on the frontlines of the war, or even in the colonies on the western coast of the Earth Kingdom, but she heard a few things during her time as the Blind Bandit.
Burns were the most common injury for people fighting in the war, and they were beyond destructive. She'd felt a few burns before, on other people. The skin was raw and rubbery, and she'd learned that the skin often felt tight. A burn over the eye…
She didn't know much about burns, but she did know about eyes. Eyes were fragile, and while she'd been blind her entire life, she knew of people who became blind later on. It could happen for any reason.
A burn over the eye…
"Are you sure he can see out of that eye?" She asked, feeling small for a moment.
The silence continued. The answer was obvious.
She wondered how much Zuko could see out of that eye. She wondered how bad the burn truly was, and whether his eye was damaged by the fire irreparably.
She wondered how this had never occurred to the others in all their travels. She wondered if Zuko had trained himself so that no one would notice.
Katara sighed. "No," she admitted. "I'm not sure."
It wasn't much longer after that when Sokka called it a night, and the four children relished the chance to have a good night's sleep again.
Toph tried not to think about the prince she'd barely met, who'd been a source of pain and hurt in her new friend's past, and what that burn scar might mean for him.
4.
Aang couldn't quite explain to his friends how the Fire Nation was different to how he remembered it; it just was.
Ever since he woke up on the ship, sailing undercover through Fire Nation waters, he could just feel it. It set his already fried nerves on fire, the sense that something was wrong wrong wrong and he just couldn't tell what it was.
It was only when they'd settled into a cave near a small Fire Nation village that he could tell.
It was the air. The air was different.
He knew that for him, his trips to the Fire Nation with Kuzon seemed like only a year ago when in fact a hundred had passed, but he still paused every time something had changed so drastically.
If he could accurately describe the air of the Fire Nation before he was frozen, he would say it mostly resembled the smell of fire flakes or the artificially coloured fires showcased at the festivals he used to attend. There was a hint of sweetness as well, coming from the native fruits that would grow near the villages.
Now… well…
The Fire Nation smelled of smoke.
That should've been obvious. Of course, the Fire Nation would smell of smoke, but it was more than just that.
The smoke of the Fire Nation of the past smelt like home cooking, like a heath built specifically to warm hands and hearts, like the smell of drying clothes after an impulsive dive into a lake.
But this smoke… it was just smoke.
It settled onto his clothes and into his lungs, heavy like guilt.
It was the smoke that lingered in the Air Temples, and it was the smoke that snowed over the Water Tribes, and it was the smoke that was covering Ba Sing Se at this very moment that hung in the air of the Fire Nation now.
Aang wondered, not for the first time, if he would ever be able to stomach being the cause of such smoke ever again.
He especially couldn't stand the metallic fizz in the air that accompanied the smoke that led him to this very moment.
Katara leaned over him as he propped his head up with his arms, the cooling soothe of her healing water soaking down over the scar on his back.
He hadn't seen the scar yet, but he could feel it every time he moved; the way the skin was taught and tight and cracked every so often. It was an ever-present discomfort - and sometimes pain - that he had learned to live with over the past week.
He sighed in contentment as just a bit of that pain waned as Katara continued her healing session. "Katara, I will never be mean to you again. It's the least you deserve for this."
She laughed, more carefree than she'd been the whole week now that his injury was finally looking better. "I really shouldn't take the credit, you'd have been dead without the spirit water." At her own words, despite her previous laughter, her demeanour changed drastically, and Aang could feel her tense above him. "I mean… it's just really lucky we had it, is all," she said, her voice taking on a darker tone.
The tension in her voice drifted into the water, and Aang winced as he felt a particularly painful twinge in his back. "Ow! Katara!"
"Oh - I'm sorry!" She stuttered, drawing her hands back, the water going limp at her retreat and dripping down his skin. “I’m so sorry Aang… I think that’s enough for today’s session.” Katara pooled the water together and stashed it back in her pouch, moving to stand up.
Aang furrowed his brows. “But, we’d usually do this for longer. Are you sure?”
“I’m sure!” Katara replied, her tone almost biting, and Aang couldn’t believe that she was talking to him with so much resentment and bitterness.
What had he done?
Katara began cleaning up the makeshift medical bay that had hastily been put together the first night they had found the cave, a frown and lines of stress casting a shadow on her face. Aang rolled off of his stomach and sat up cross-legged on the bed roll.
“Are you okay? Was it something I said?” He asked, a pit in his stomach.
She pursed her lips. “No, not at all,” she responded, which only served to make him even more nervous.
“Katara-!” He began to say, but she had dashed across the cave, ducking her head as she did in a desperate attempt to pretend she hadn’t heard him.
Aang huffed, narrowing his eyes at the evasive behaviour.
Surely, it hadn’t been anything he had said, right?
He thought back to their conversation.
Katara had been conducting her healing session in relative silence, and they’d only begun talking when Aang mentioned how much it had been helping him. She’d mentioned the spirit water after that, but Aang couldn’t think of any reason why that would’ve caused her to close up like this.
Katara sat next to the fire, taking over from Sokka in tending to the stew that was boiling, pointedly ignoring any attempts at conversation by him or Toph.
Sokka screwed up his nose. “What’s got you in a mood?”
She turned to him sharply, eyes cold and hard as she glared at him. “Nothing! Nothing’s wrong!”
Aang stood up from the infirmary bedroll, watching as Sokka and Toph’s eyes went wide at Katara’s seemingly out-of-nowhere outburst.
"Katara?" He asked as he sat down next to her.
She turned away from him, but in the light of the fire he could the tears streaking down the side of her face.
"Katara! What's wrong?"
She shook her head. "Nothing, it's stupid." None of them would have believed her, anyway, but the denial was made further unbelievable by the way her words caught in her throat and the occasional sniffle she tried to disguise as her shifting on the ground.
The change in behaviour had happened so quickly, and Aang - not for the first time - wished he was better with all this emotional maturity stuff.
Sokka frowned. "It's obviously not nothing, you're crying."
“I just…” Katara trailed off, breathing in deeply as she closed her eyes, obviously trying to calm herself down. "I almost killed Aang."
Aang heard the words leave her mouth, but somehow his brain just couldn't seem to compute exactly what she'd said, and especially why she said it. "Huh?" Was all he was able to say as she continued to turn her back on the three of them. "Katara, I'm sorry, but what?"
Sokka began to laugh, out of what Aang thought was nervousness. "Katara, there is no way you could ever be capable of killing Aang."
"No," Katara shook her head, breathing through her sobs. "I almost did… in Ba Sing Se, in the catacombs. And I only just realised and I guess it's only just hitting me now but-"
"Katara?" Aang interrupted. She looked back at him, her eyes red and puffy as she rubbed at them with her hands. He scooted towards her slightly but resisted putting a hand on her shoulder, not sure if that would make things worse. "What exactly do you mean?"
She stared at him for a while, and Aang could see in the low light of the fire the way guilt shone in her eyes. "In the catacombs," she started, slowly. "I was imprisoned with Zuko, for some reason." She shook her head as she recounted, confusion bleeding into her tone. "I don't know why he was there, and I don't care anymore. But… we started talking. About our mothers."
Across the fire, Aang heard Sokka take a sharp breath in. "His mother?" He asked, the words biting and scathing.
"He said something about the Fire Nation taking away his mother too," she said, shaking her head and growling. "Yeah, right. It was probably all a lie."
A deep pit settled into Aang's stomach, but he didn't say anything. He let Katara continue.
"We talked more and then… well, I…" She trailed off, her arms wrapped around her knees as she curled in on herself. "I offered to heal his scar with the spirit water."
Silence rested over the campsite.
Aang turned away from Katara to stare into the fire. The smoke didn't rise too high - Sokka had built it in a way to limit the amount of smoke so that the cave wouldn't become unbreathable - but he watched as it swirled around the pot of stew that was still boiling over the flame.
The only sound that reverberated around the cave was the crackling of logs and Katara's quiet cries.
She took in a deep breath, breaking the silence. "He was tricking me," she said but didn't sound so convinced of it. "And I'm glad I didn't because then… well…"
Katara didn't have to finish the sentence for all of them to understand.
Aang would've died.
If Katara had used the spirit water on Zuko, Aang would've died.
“I’m glad you did too.” Sokka’s face was stone cold as he reached over to tend to the fire. He glanced at Aang for a second but didn’t let his eyes linger. “You did the right thing, Katara.”
Aang lifted his eyes and caught Toph looking at him, her face grim with an understanding of what he wanted to say.
They’d had little discussion over Zuko’s scar, and even less recently since they hadn’t seen him for a while, but there was always something nagging in the back of Aang’s mind whenever they talked about it. He felt as though they were missing something, some context maybe. He felt as though everything could be solved with this little bit of context.
The thought that Katara couldn't have brought him back from the dead had she used the spirit water on Zuko wasn’t lost on him. He understood it would’ve been bad, catastrophic even.
But, he also thought… how much would it have changed?
Would he have died at all if Zuko had been healed?
“There’s no use dwelling on what-ifs,” Sokka said with an air of finality as if he could hear exactly what Aang had been thinking. “We’re all extremely grateful, not only for the spirit water but also for your abilities, Katara.” It was a rare moment where Sokka was genuine and serious, and Aang allowed the gravity of the situation to weigh on him.
Still, he couldn’t help but picture a Zuko that didn’t have the scar. Would he look happier? Would he look younger? How much did that scar determine how the past six months had gone for all of them?
Aang looked out the mouth of the cave, towards the rest of the world, and breathed in deeply.
Maybe the air of the Fire Nation was just getting to him.
5.
Hakoda never trusted easily.
He'd been born and raised in a village ravaged by war, had lost both his parents and his wife to the Southern Raiders, and had been thrust into a position of power far too young. If there was one thing he had learned early on, it was to love easily, but never trust fully.
There were two people he did trust, however. He trusted them wholeheartedly, so much that it ached and scared him sometimes.
His children.
Though young, he could already see how the war had touched them. He had tried to keep them secluded in the Southern Water Tribe, but even the poles could not escape the treachery of the Fire Nation.
He could see it in Sokka's face, frown lines etched into the skin around his mouth and eyes, and he could see it in Katara's hands, never too far from her water pouch. He could see it in the weapons they had lying around their campsite, never too far for Sokka to reach, and he could see it in the steady way Katara gripped her sewing needle as she patched up her tunic.
Even before the war had touched them, Hakoda trusted his children. Now, that they had seen the world and had fought for the world and still managed to look at him and smile, he trusted them even more.
He just didn't know if he could trust this.
Zuko, Crown Prince of the Fire Nation, was sitting down with his children at dinner, serving tea he had brewed himself. A firebender was sitting in the company of earthbenders, waterbenders and an airbender, and for probably the first time in one hundred years there was no battle. Hakoda couldn't let go of the feeling that something could yet go wrong.
Hakoda knew the crown prince was still only a child, barely older than his own Sokka, and he had seen first-hand how the young man had helped all of them escape the Boiling Rock, but no amount of trust he put in his own children could do anything against the innate hatred he felt upon seeing the red clothing all people of the Fire Nation wore.
He didn't trust Zuko.
He especially didn't trust Chit Sang.
But, as the only other adult in the camp, he sat with the man during dinner.
They didn't talk much, or at all. The two of them just watched the kids as they maintained their campsite, acting more like soldiers than the men Hakoda had spent his whole life serving beside.
The whole time, he couldn't keep the glare off his face whenever he looked at Zuko.
He hadn't thought it was too obvious, but he should've known better than to wear his emotions so clearly on his face in unfamiliar company.
"Have a problem with the kid?"
Hakoda turned to Chit Sang who looked particularly engrossed in his meal, but the sour look on his face revealed his intentions. An uneasy tension grew between them.
He turned back to Zuko, who was allowing Aang to ramble to him with a strained smile, intent on sitting there eating his dinner while the younger boy talked his ear off.
Chit Sang continued. "Because, if you have a problem with the kid, you have a problem with me."
Hakoda breathed in deeply, aware of just how badly this could go if he wasn't careful. "Can we speak as men?" He asked, keeping his voice low.
"I would expect nothing less," Chit Sang replied in the same tone.
Hakoda wasn't a man of words. He knew how to lead armies, and he knew how to lead a village, and he could maintain attention on himself for a brief time, but he was never one to make a speech for any more than what was necessary. He did not have the way with words that his dearest Kya had.
He hoped it was enough, however, to not offend the powerful firebender sitting next to him.
"I urge you to understand my point of view," Hakoda started, never taking his eyes off the young prince. "I have never known a good firebender. Especially not one whose father has ordered the armies that have burned the world."
Silence rested upon them, but the children continued to talk cheerfully, never ceasing in their joy. Hakoda knew he had grown old and weary from battle, but he wondered if his children's hope and innocence would last. He wondered if the age of war and fire would soon be over.
Chit Sang nodded. "I can't imagine the world has been kind to you."
It was a curious thing to hear out of the mouth of a firebender, fashioned almost as an apology, but not quite.
The other man continued. "However, the men who have led our armies to burn the world also burn their armies, and their sons."
Hakoda's gaze flickered towards the scar on Zuko's face. There was no mistaking what Chit Sang was insinuating.
He had seen burn scars.
He had seen Bato's arm freshly wounded. He had seen the way the skin puckered and sizzled, and had smelled the stench of burning flesh that was almost as pungent as the smoke. Too many times had he seen those burns upon the skin of his people, too many times had the memory of his dear Kya's last moments flashed before his eyes.
It was hard to ignore how burn scars looked the same, no matter who they were on.
Almost like a revelation, Hakoda started to understand.
He started to understand what kind of men could walk into villages and leave nothing but ash. He started to understand what kind of men could see domination as the only way to peace. It was the kind of men who viewed themselves as superior in every sense of the word, and it was the kind of men who viewed violence as the answer to disobedience, and it was the kind of men who sought control in every aspect of their lives.
It was the kind of men who would harm their children if it meant shutting their children up.
Hakoda let his eyes wander away from Zuko and towards his own children.
He had met men like that before. He had seen first-hand the way children suffered for their father's shortcomings.
These men wore anger as their only emotion and expected the world to bow at their feet. If it were these men who were ruling the world, he could understand why it would never be kind to anyone.
Hakoda nodded to Chit Sang, acknowledging his words. In a sign of unity that Hakoda had never thought was possible, he lifted his bowl of stew towards the firebender and said, "To a kinder world."
The man mimicked his actions, his face still stone-cold, but Hakoda felt the ice melting slowly.
They turned back to the children who had begun telling tales of their adventures, and for once, Hakoda felt hope.
+ 1
They had won.
They… they had won.
In the aftermath of the battle, Zuko found himself in one of the many guest rooms of the palace, with Katara tending over him, her hands surrounded by a constant glow. Zuko must’ve fallen unconscious at some point because he couldn’t remember being carried to the makeshift infirmary.
It was only Katara in the room with him. He vaguely remembered Azula being taken away by some guards who had been watching the Agni Kai from the shadows, smart enough to know not to interrupt the two royal siblings. He couldn’t remember much after that.
From what little he could tell, his father had taken most of the palace guards with him on his conquest, and most other servants had been dismissed by Azula in her paranoid state.
The palace felt so empty… so much colder.
He could feel some of his strength returning to him. Not for the first time, he marvelled at Katara’s skill; to bring him back from death’s door so quickly was a feat he was sure even the most talented of waterbenders would struggle with.
Despite this, her face was still tight with worry, even as he was able to stand up and walk around.
“Maybe we should do another healing session,” she said, worrying her lip between her teeth. “You’re still wincing.”
Zuko shook his head. “There are more important things to do.”
"Those important things won't get done unless you're healed," she countered, talking with experience. Zuko would be the first to admit that he would never go toe to toe with Katara, but some things were more important than his pride and peace.
Her argument, however well constructed, wouldn't work today. He sighed as he slowly made his way to the door. "The battle isn't over yet, Katara."
In the aftermath of the Agni Kai, the palace courtyard was in shambles. Scorch marks lined almost every surface, joined by ice shards that were only just now melting. The damage wasn’t extensive, and already had been pushed down the line of priority by much more important things, but Zuko couldn’t help but feel lost at how depressing the once beautiful courtyard looked.
Katara followed behind him, and he could feel her worry and concern without looking at her.
"Where are you even going?" She asked, arms crossed as she walked briskly behind him. "Nothing can be done until Aang and your Uncle come back anyway-"
He cut her off. "I'm going to wait for them."
"Wha- out here?" She asked. He turned around to face her, catching her unimpressed look. "You can wait for them in the infirmary."
"Or," he countered, perhaps immaturely. "I can wait for them out here." Turning to her and noticing her still fretting over him, he nodded towards the palace. "You know, I think some servants of the palace could use some healing."
Katara glared at him, knowing exactly what he was doing. "This isn't over," she threatened. "And when the others arrive, I'm telling them that you still need healing."
Zuko fought the urge to laugh, feeling the pain in his chest worsen. "Alright," he replied, already dreading the lecture everyone had planned for him.
Katara levelled him with one final glare before rolling her eyes and walking away. Zuko hadn't been lying or trying to guilt her; there were servants hiding in the palace that required healing. He wasn't naive enough to believe that his Agni Kai with Azula hadn't caused some damage or injuries, or even that anything Azula had done before he turned up hadn't caused damage or injuries.
Speaking of, he glanced around the courtyard as Katara vanished out of sight. Ashes covered the stone floor and were picked up by the returning breeze, leaving a dry feeling in the back of his throat. The sky had since turned back to a dusty orange as the sun and comet settled below the horizon, chasing away the burning red that had been present just hours before. The brighter sky allowed him to see the scorch marks left on every surface surrounding the courtyard, burning ugly scars into the once pristine palace.
He gingerly touched his stomach, the new shirt Katara had put him in shielding his injury—another scar to add.
This one didn't bring him feelings of shame, though. He received this one saving Katara.
He supposed the other scar was received trying to save people too, but it still carried far too much baggage for him to truly appreciate that.
It wasn't long before shapes and shadows appeared on the horizon.
He shouldn’t have been that surprised to see Sokka commandeering the airships, but the sight of the scrawny, barely sixteen year old at the helm of a battered and broken control room still left him a little speechless.
Suki was to his side, looking as fierce as ever, but the ever present furrow of her brow had lifted somewhat, and her posture seemed more relaxed than usual. Toph held onto her arm, face set in a determined grin.
Aang was nowhere to be found.
Zuko’s stomach twisted in agony as the breath was ripped from his lungs. But… he’d been so sure…
The fact that the fate of the world had rested on one twelve year old boy was one that Zuko often tried to ignore, and yet he’d been sure that if anyone could do it, it’d be Aang.
Would the other three be coming back if Aang hadn’t made it?
He didn’t have to ruminate in the catasphrophic spiral for too long, however.
The airship landed with as much grace as a hippo-cow, the metal of the gondola scraping across the ground, further uprooting the bricks and desecrating the royal courtyard. Zuko winced at the carnage.
Sokka yelled loudly in what Zuko could only guess was joy or maybe pride (he still had a lot of trouble deciphering the many sounds Sokka made), and he jumped out from the gaping hole on the right hand side of the airship.
“I knew it! I knew it! I told you everyone would be alright in the end!”
Zuko blinked slowly at that. Did that mean… had Aang…?
At that very moment, Aang floated out from the helm following closely behind Sokka. “Zuko! You’re okay! Wait, where’s Katara?” The end of his sentence went up, terror and sharp worry bleeding into what was initially a triumphant sound.
The tonal shift soothed Zuko, in an odd way. Everything was going to be fine.
“Katara’s healing some servants in the palace,” he answered, and watched as Sokka and Aang’s expressions melted in relief.
Toph jumped down from the airship, planting her feet solidly on the cracked bricks of the courtyard. Her eyes widened. “Wow, you sure did a number on this place, Sparky.”
Zuko wanted to laugh, he truly did, but the pit in his stomach still hadn’t gone away. Aang might’ve come back fairly unscathed, but there was one more matter that needed answering.
“Aang, did you - I mean,” Zuko stuttered around his words, cursing himself inwardly at the harsh breaths filling his lungs.
Agni, he hated the way his father made him feel.
The other three sobered at his words, turning their heads back towards the airship where Suki had yet to emerge from.
His lungs ached as the pit in his stomach intensified.
The first face to leave the airship wasn’t Suki’s. It was Ozai’s.
And Zuko could hardly believe it.
Zuko remembered the last time he had seen his father. The Day of Black Sun marked a turning point in his life, all culminating in his confrontation of Ozai. There, the Firelord had stood proudly as he shot lightning at his son, with a strength and speed that hinted at the rage held tightly within. He’d kept his composure enough to smirk at Zuko’s words, and even when Zuko had re-directed the lightning there was no doubt about who held the most power in that room.
What was left of his father was an empty shell of that man.
He stumbled out of the airship with his hands held tightly behind his back, barely able to keep himself upright. Suki gripped the restraints and pushed him to keep moving, almost single-handedly holding him up.
For a moment a sense of disgust filled him before being replaced by anger.
He was aware of the way the others were looking at him, watching his every move and reaction. He wondered if they were afraid he’d start exploding, or maybe he’d start throwing punches instead. By now, most of them knew the basic story; the Agni Kai and the scar and the banishment. He wondered if they thought he would be justified in attacking the once powerful Firelord.
The truth was he just wanted to run.
Ozai always had that effect on him.
Instead, the Firelord was tossed down onto the ground with barely enough energy to catch himself from breaking his nose on the bricks.
Every part of Zuko wanted to see that nose broken. He wanted to see what it was like when the Firelord was bent over himself, useless on the floor, blood trickling down to his mouth. He wanted to see him in pain, in agony, in fear.
Before he could stop himself, Zuko was walking over to where Ozai was still slouched over, on his knees with his hands behind his back. Suki had let go just a moment before with a disgusted hum, her face pulled into an ugly glare.
“Zuko, wait-!” Aang had started, but he was too late.
Zuko had his hand on Ozai’s face in the same second.
The world came to a still, like the air had been sucked out of the atmosphere.
For a single moment, Zuko could see himself in Ozai. Powerless, worthless, begging for mercy.
Except Ozai wouldn’t beg. Not like how Zuko had. Even at his most disgraced, the Firelord would never bring himself so low.
And Zuko would never live up to his standard.
He rested his hand gently against Ozai’s cheek, his fingers and thumb outlining the eye, and watched as Ozai flinched.
Good, he thought, anger and bitterness and righteous vengeance fuelling the breath in his lungs.
Someone hissed his name close by, but he couldn’t bring himself to turn towards them. He didn’t want to see their disappointed faces. He didn’t want to have to explain himself, not yet anyway.
The truth was, Zuko would never live up to their standard, either.
“It would be so easy,” he whispered in Ozai’s face. “If I was anything like you it would be so easy.”
His grip tightened and he watched as Ozai flinched again, bracing himself for a hit that would never come.
“Was it that easy for you?” He wondered out loud.
Ozai didn’t answer him. With the last of his strength draining from him, he used it to level Zuko with one more look full of that disappointment and apathy that would leave his past self shrivelled up with self-hatred.
Now, it almost made him scoff.
He removed his hand, realising belatedly just how cold his father’s skin was.
The truth was that this was the true form of the former Firelord.
Zuko pulled himself up to his full height and addressed Suki like the warrior that she was. “I’ll accompany you in locking him in the Caldera City prisons. I assume he won’t need to be guarded too closely, but once we release the other Kyoshi warriors, I would prefer for them to watch over him until I can reform the prison systems and get prison guards.”
The scar on his chest pinched at him slightly, but it was okay, because now it could heal.
Now, he could heal.
The scar on his face didn’t hurt anymore.
It hadn’t hurt in a long time.