War Games

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/32224669.

Rating: Mature
Archive Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of
Violence
Category: M/M
Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), Sokka & Zuko (Avatar), Hakoda & Sokka
(Avatar), Hakoda & Zuko (Avatar), Bato/Hakoda (Avatar), The Gaang &
Zuko (Avatar), Sokka & Suki & Zuko (Avatar), Katara & Sokka
(Avatar), Azula & Iroh (Avatar), Iroh & Katara (Avatar), Azula & Zuko
(Avatar), Azula & Mai & Ty Lee, Jet & The Gaang
Characters: Zuko (Avatar), Sokka (Avatar), Iroh (Avatar), Katara (Avatar), Azula
(Avatar), Hakoda (Avatar), Aang (Avatar), Suki (Avatar), Toph Beifong,
Jet (Avatar)
Additional Tags: zuko/zhao (past), Zuko/OC (past), Zuko&OC (who is perhaps a little
confused and misinformed), Sokka&OC (less misinformed, but equally
confused), Suki &OC (no one is confused or misinformed), Hakoda & an
increasing number of fire nation murder children, he did not sign up for
this shit, azula/treason, Sokka/revenge, Angst and Humor, Slow Burn,
Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Sokka (Avatar), Hurt Zuko (Avatar), Trauma, Post-
Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse,
Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Extremely Dubious Consent,
Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gay Zuko (Avatar), Bisexual
Disaster Sokka (Avatar), Partially Deaf Zuko (Avatar), Partially Blind
Zuko (Avatar), Forced Marriage, Blue Spirit Zuko (Avatar), Past
Rape/Non-con, Murder, Canon Typical Racism, named character death
(not gaang), Minor Jet/Zuko (Avatar)
Language: English
Series: Part 2 of All's Fair
Collections: Mah Cabbages, miQ_y's fav fav fics, ATLA fics, Followed by
PythonAnon, Reread And Revisit
Stats: Published: 2021-06-27 Updated: 2024-09-29 Words: 517,958 Chapters:
42/?
 War Games
by Lovely_Elbow_Leech

Summary

After the events of War Crimes, Sokka and Zuko have escaped Zhao’s warship and are
fleeing across the Earth Kingdom. As well as unfamiliar terrain, they have to navigate their
shared trauma, work out where they fit into the war, and their place in each others lives.

Sokka is aware that being friends with the enemy is going to bring complications, but he
probably should have guessed that being friends with Zuko in particular, was going to be a bit
like dunking your head repeatedly into a bucket of angry Fire Ferrets.

Katara is also grappling with the confusion of befriending an enemy, something that doesn’t
prove as difficult as she had expected with the bond of shared, furious grief bridging old
wounds. (Learning a new way to look at her bending doesn't hurt either)

Azula, struggling with the Fire Lord’s mistrust, encounters a few nasty surprises and has to
make some difficult decisions. Luckily, she is a great deal better at making sensible choices
than her brother.

Her father may have made a slight tactical error.

Notes

Please heed the warnings these are the general ones for the fic, but I will warn chapter by
chapter in more detail.
Past non-con – this will be discussed as well as the related injuries. Trauma, trauma recovery,
PTSD, past torture, violence, murder, plot, there is an actual plot this time. I think.
Internalized homophobia, canon typical racism, all of the very unpleasant things that can
happen during war (especially to civilians), poor treatment of people with mixed heritage
from both sides,

There is a pairing (and I use the term loosely) that is a massive spoiler for the fic, so I’m not
going put it in the tags - but I will warn for it now, because it’s an upsetting subject: Forced
marriage between an adult and a young person. The young person is of legal age in canon,
(less so in some parts of our word, and still gross, wrong and very messed up in any world,
ever.) This warning covers everything forced marriage implies, including off screen very,
very dubious content (its absolutely non-con, but not viewed that way by society and many of
the surrounding characters.) All of this will be off screen, but the fall out and feelings of the
characters involved will be discussed. This will be many chapters down the line, and I will
 warn in the notes where necessary. So if people would like to avoid those parts, message me
and I will try to make an edit for you or let you know the sections to miss out.

TLDR: As always, this fic has a lot of humour and nonsense, but also deals with difficult and
sometimes upsetting subjects, I will warn as carefully as I can chapter by chapter – but if I
miss something, please let me know and I will add it in to the warnings and/or tags.

See the end of the work for more notes

 Chapter 1

Prologue

First Lieutenant Ro stood at the rail and looked towards the beach. The distant trees were
swaying in the light breeze, like sentries overseeing the furious activity on the shore. Behind
him, the anxious crew were washing the blood off the deck.

Seven men dead, victims of Admiral Zhao’s displeasure. His anger had been…explosive, and
heads had literally rolled. Ro was extremely glad his had not been one of them.

He took a few fortifying breaths. His wasn’t one of them for now.

Taiju’s treachery had been a shock, a frighting one, with what he knew, but thankfully the
depth of Zhao’s anger had meant he would not be telling any tales. Even so, Zuko and the
Water Rat’s escape had put them all in a great deal of danger. Zhao had sent soldiers ashore
as soon as he had realised what had happened. Ro could see the small shapes of the soldiers
on the sand, preparing to move inland. The boys might have drowned of course, but Ro didn’t
think so. Zuko was a remarkably resilient brat. He would make it out of spite if nothing else.

And then he would want payback. They had been stupid to think him cowed, Zhao had been
arrogant and overconfident. He should have taken what he wanted from the little bastard and
killed him before they ever got this close to land. He had gambled, and they all stood to lose.

As he watched, another boat launched with more men heading for the beaches. They had a lot
of people at their disposal, although they couldn’t utilise the fleet for obvious reasons. The
other captains had gone on ahead to their rendezvous, while Zhao undertook his ‘secret’
mission.

Ro had confidence in the soldiers, the men were skilled, they would work their way inland,
seek sources of freshwater and no doubt pick up the trail. The boys were injured, weak and
on unfamiliar ground.

They would be captured, eventually.

Ro was not the sort of man who thought much about his own shortcomings, or his mistakes;
he preferred to think of them as other people’s mistakes, as they usually were. But the
memory of his final act of revenge was soured by worry. He still relished it. That feeling of
power was not one that could be replicated, and was unlikely to come again. The Fire Lord’s
own son, Ozai’s blood, that had been a heady experience. It had always been a risk, but
Zuko’s fear and shame and his inexplicable attachment to the Water Tribe whelp would have
made him easy to manipulate, right until the point he had to die. It had been worth the risk
and had been a moment to remember, but now it was also a serious cause for concern. If they
failed to capture Zuko, then the whole crew was for the gibbet. But if they did capture him,
then Ro’s neck was on the line. No way Zuko would pass up the opportunity to tell Zhao
what Ro had done, his final act of revenge before his death. Zhao might not believe him, but
then again, he might.

And then Ro would be the one to lose his head.

There was only one way forward. Ro was going to have to find him first, and he was going to
have to ensure he would not be telling any tales. A sword in the gut was too quick of a death
for him. But it would have to do.

That way, Ro would save his skin and be a hero to the crew. Win-win, the best odds. He
would go ashore with the next boat, and he would find them. He was banking on it taking a
day or so to locate them, long enough that Zhao was forced to return to the ship, and Ro
could take over. Zhao would jump at the chance of having someone he trusted, who knew just
how important it was, to take charge of the chase. Then it would just be a case of
‘accidentally’ killing Zuko before he could be taken back to the admiral. Perhaps, if the
circumstances were right, they could recreate their last morning on the boat. But if not, there
was always the Water Rat for sport. He would make him watch his friend die first, then
maybe he would break a leg, to discourage any other attempts at escape. And he was fairly
sure the boy owed him an eye after all this hassle.

He watched the tree line as it grew closer. The sun was rising, and he could feel it filling his
veins with fire and strength.

Chapter 1

Azula, Crown Princess and heir to the throne, smiled. Finding her uncle had proved to be
shockingly easy. The man had come to her.

He looked surprised to see her, not scared, which was foolish of him, but definitely surprised.
To be fair, she had been a little surprised, too. She was not expecting the person holding
Mai’s brother to be the very man she was seeking, but she wasn’t one to look a gift horse in
the mouth.

“Uncle,” she said pleasantly, “Welcome to New Ozai.” She thought naming the city after her
father had been a nice touch.

Away from the stifling fear of the palace, she felt better, less conflicted. Although she was
still very aware of her precarious situation and the fact she was far from being out of the
woods yet.

Killing or capturing Iroh would be a good start, though.

“Uncle?” the Water Tribe girl questioned, looking between them cautiously. The boy in the
silly hat was staring at her in open curiosity. What an odd collection of people Iroh had ended
up with.
“Princess Azula. You’ve grown!” Iroh said, matching her tone. She wasn’t fooled any more
than he was. They both knew where this was going. He handed the baby he was holding to
the girl, who took the child almost automatically, then scowled at him, understandably put out
about being lumbered by a squirming infant. The baby, unconcerned, reached out a chubby
hand and pulled at one of her dangling hair loops, a cheerful smile on his fat little face.

“I believe you have something that belongs to my friend here.” Azula gestured towards Mai.
She kept her posture relaxed and her voice light.

“Not until you give us Bumi!” the boy demanded, stepping forward. Iroh glanced at him and
then nodded.

Azula narrowed her eyes at them. There was something off about the body language of the
strange little group. Iroh should be the leader, in age, power and status, but he was deferring
to the kid.

“Deals off,” she said. She needed more information, and angering them was one way to get it.

The Water Tribe girl fell into a fighting stance, one arm raised, the other still cradling the
baby. That should hamper her bending efforts significantly. The boy scowled at her and
thumped his stick down in front of him, it was almost like a challenge, rather than a threat.
Azula eyed it, it wasn’t a stick, it was some sort of furled contraption. She realised what it
was a second later, a glider, something that hadn’t been seen outside of a museum in almost a
century. Her intel had suggested that the Avatar had been travelling with a pair of Water Tribe
kids and that the girl was a bender.

Looking at the peculiar little group, Azula was certain her hunch was correct. Well, this was a
bit of good luck. It was going to be tricky though. Iroh was no pushover, even if he was old
and lazy. She dismissed the girl for the time being, Ty Lee or Mai could handle her. The
Avatar could prove a challenge, but by all accounts he was only half trained, so there was a
strong possibility she could take him.

Capturing the Avatar would certainly trump getting rid of Iroh.

But perhaps there was a way to do both, if she tipped balance a little. She schooled her face
carefully, relaxing her aggressive stance. “Uncle, I’m sure you know you have been declared
a traitor,” she said solemnly.

Iroh nodded at her. “I suspected as much. You have orders to detain me?”

Or kill him, but he didn’t need to know that. “I do. And I intend to. It’s not my choice, you
understand.” She kept her tone a little low, regretful.

He nodded again, still cautious. So not a complete moron then.

Azula took a couple of deep, visible breaths and looked at her feet for a moment. Nothing too
emotional, but just enough to show her discomfort. “It brings me no pleasure to lose another
member of my family.” She raised her eyes to watch his reaction. He was tense, worried.
He didn’t know.

But her words and tone had certainly clued him in to the possibility that he wouldn’t like
what she had to say. He looked almost afraid to ask her to elaborate. Good. “Uncle, I have
every intention to take you prisoner, it’s my duty. But before we are forced to do such
unsavoury things...I assume you haven’t heard the news?”

“What news?” There was fear on his face, he wasn’t even hiding it. He didn’t know Zuko’s
fate, but he suspected, had probably lain awake at night looking at the stars and fretting.
What a pathetic waste of energy and time, worrying about someone else, when he should
have been concerned over his own situation.

“About my brother.” She took another artfully measured breath. Just enough to show she was
feeling a strong emotion, no need to overplay it.

“What news, Azula?” he pressed, his voice insistent, tense with feeling and dread. She felt it
strung between them like a bowstring, waiting for her next words to fire the arrow.

“He was found guilty of treason, three weeks ago.”

“On what charges?” The boy, the Avatar said, ruining her moment slightly. Or perhaps not, he
looked upset. Very strange. Perhaps Zuzu had been a traitor rather than just an idiot. Iroh
certainly was, considering the company.

“High treason,” Azula addressed Iroh rather than the kid, making the appearance of
dismissing him as unimportant. “I’m sure you have heard of the Blue Spirit, uncle? Well, it
seems Zuko had been moonlighting in vigilantism. Apparently he freed the Avatar when he
was being held at Pohuai Stronghold.” She looked at Iroh earnestly. “It’s shocking, I know.
But proven beyond a doubt by eyewitnesses.” Like the bastard Zhao, who she still owed a
reckoning for daring to spill royal blood.

The Avatar went a little pale. So, she had been correct, maybe it wasn’t just Iroh she could
knock off balance.

The Water Tribe girl turned her head to look at the Avatar. “Seriously? Zuko?” She asked
incredulously, shaking her head in apparent disbelief. Her hair swung at the motion and Tom
Tom grabbed at it again and tugged it happily, but she seemed too caught up in the shock of
that revelation to do more than wince.

Interesting, the Avatar had known who his saviour was, but the rest of his companions had
not.

“Where is he?” the Avatar demanded. Stepping further forward, as threatening as a little boy
in a silly hat could be. “Uncle, we can’t wait. We have to find the ship.”

Uncle? She resisted raising the eyebrow that wanted to climb into her hairline. Very familiar
thing to call a royal firebender. There was an awful lot to puzzle out here.
Iroh had pure fear in his eyes now. It always confused and confounded her how Zuko
managed to inspire such love in some people, and such disastrous hate in others. It both
intrigued and annoyed her.

It was a moot point now, though.

She made an effort to keep the spite from her voice, the victory from her body language, but
it was hard. “I’m afraid it’s a bit late for that,” she said, watching her words crash down on
Iroh, the fear turning to desperate heartbreak on his face.

“What do you mean?” The Avatar asked. She could see from Iroh’s expression he already
knew what her answer would be. Her father did not permit traitors to live.

“He was executed. As soon as Zhao received his sentence. They didn’t even bother to bring
him home.” She let a little of her genuine anger bleed into her voice.

“You’re lying!” the girl said. She looked shocked too, not sad, but upset. What had Zuzu
been up to during his banishment?

“I’m not,” Azula snapped, just enough to appear hurt by the accusation. She took a slow
breath and turned her face away slightly, keeping half an eye on her uncle’s reaction. “I
wouldn’t lie about this, he’s...he was my brother. I was there when father received the news.”

Sometimes, at night when she lay awake, with the fear in her veins, she could still smell the
stink of burnt hair.

She took what she needed from the memory and shook the rest away. “Zhao sent his hair as
proof. Father burnt it.” She looked Iroh in the eye. “It’s done, uncle.”

He believed her. His face creased and crumpled with such raw grief it hit her funny. Not out
of pity, but out of something else. He probably looked like that when his son died. Now, at
the news of Zuko’s death.

He wouldn’t look like that if she died. No one would.

Azula didn’t know why that made her so angry. Her brother’s death, and her father’s distance
had thrown all her emotions out of order. It infuriated her, which now she thought about it,
was probably a symptom of the disease; sentiment, a weak and pointless emotion.

There was no time for it now, though. He was nearly ready. “I’m sorry, uncle,” she said.

The Water Tribe girl reached out a hand to Iroh, but her eyes were on the Avatar. His little
face was full of pain and guilt. Azula centred herself, breathed, and prepared to call her
lightning.

Iroh’s eyes shot up to meet hers as the first spark of power surged through her.

“Move!” He shouted, but he had a lot less time to dodge than he thought. In mere seconds she
had the lightning at her fingertips, and she sent the blast directly at him. As the power flowed
through and out of her, she was vaguely aware of the Water Tribe girl lunging to the side,
protecting the child, and the Avatar moving his staff, flipping it open.

Then the lightning hit.

Iroh... caught it. The electricity standing his hair on end as it flowed around his body. She had
a moment of true fear, her own death a momentary certainty, before he raised two fingers and
released the blast away from them, the crackle and bang of it streaking over the city and
lighting the scaffold in wild white and blue.

How had he done that? She had never heard of such a thing.

Her advantage was lost, curse him. But there was no time to dwell on it. He looked a little
shaken, hair still sticking up at funny angles. Perhaps Ty Lee would get a lucky hit in, and
they could subdue him without her. Her goal now was the Avatar. His eyes widened as he felt
her attention shift to him, and she didn’t give him any more time to recover before she
attacked.

Instead of fighting her, the Avatar ran, or more accurately, flew. Right up towards where they
had mad King Bumi stashed. Azula was not having a rescue on top of her failure to take out
Iroh, and she pursued, using the pulleys on the scaffolding to propel her up to his level. The
thrill of it sending bright hot feelings spinning through her, like fire. This felt so simple, so
easy. No confusion, no doubts.

Azula tucked an errant hair back into place. The boy had escaped. They had all escaped. And
although Bumi had inexplicably returned himself to captivity, the day was still lost.

That said, it wasn’t a complete disaster. Every engagement with the enemy taught you things,
gave you valuable information to be used later. Fighting an airbender had been much more
demanding than she had anticipated—not least because he didn’t really stand and fight at all,
not in the way a firebender would. He was evasive, and his technique was mostly defensive,
which presented unexpected challenges. He was also able to move in a way she could not,
launching himself into the air, using the scaffold and the high ground with ease. She would
have to come up with a way to counteract that.

The thought was exciting, engaging. She hadn’t felt so alive in forever.

The other benefit to today’s failure was that she now knew they were traveling together.
Much easier to track the Avatar and his flying cow than it was to dig out an old man hiding
amongst the Earth Kingdom citizens. Furthermore, with her targets travailing together, she
would not have to divide her attention.

She held back the smile that wanted to spread across her face, hid the exhilaration that was
flowing under her skin. This was her opportunity, her chance to win back her father’s favour.

She intended to grab it with both hands.

……………..

“Son of a hog-monkey’s whore!” Sokka yelped, as he once again stepped on a prickly

protrusion from the forest floor. His feet were not made for walking over all this crap, it hurt!
And worse, slowed them down, something they could not afford.

It also seemed that a month's exposure to the rough side of Zuko’s tongue had lowered the
tone of his vocabulary. Or perhaps it had expanded it, but in a way his father probably
wouldn’t approve of. He was going to have to get a rein on the cussing if he ever managed to
meet up with Katara and Aang. If being the operative word. He stumbled over some other
spiky bastard of a stick laying in wait in the scrub and cussed again.

They had been walking for the best part of a day through the forest, and their pace was
getting slower and slower, although the fear of pursuit was increasing with every second that
slipped by. Their feet were used to shoes and not used to being walked on after a month in
captivity, but that was only part of the problem. Exhaustion and injuries were the more
pressing concerns.

Their first bit of good luck since hitting the beach appeared from the sky, fat, early spring
raindrops began hitting the canopy with a familiar and welcome sound. Sokka never thought
he would have missed being rained on, but the sensation was a welcome one. He stood with
his head tipped back for a moment while the water hit his face, cool and fresh.

“Can’t drink it like this,” Zuko said, from just up ahead, frustration and longing clear in his
voice. Sokka shared the sentiment. They should have brought one of their tin cups, although
they probably would have lost it during the swim. Zuko had also tilted his face up to the
canopy, letting the rain wash away some of the grime and sweat. His shirt was darkening
from the water, and the sight of it gave Sokka an idea.

He untied the strips of his destroyed clothing from his belt and handed half of them to Zuko,
who looked at them in confusion. “We can collect it using these,” Sokka told him, and
demonstrated by running one of his scraps through the wet, low hanging leaves of a big bush.
The cloth soaked up the water, and he lifted it to his mouth, then spat.“Ugh salty,” he said in
disgust. He should have thought of that, seeing it has been soaked in sea water. He wrung it
out and tried again, wrung it out a second time. The third attempt gave him a few mouthfuls
of drinkable water, not enough to quench his thirst, but if they kept it up it might be enough
to stop them just dropping dead of dehydration.

Zuko nodded. “Let’s drink as we go,” he said. The guy was like a force of nature, no stupid
twigs or a bit of pesky starvation was going to stop him and his insistence that they just kept
moving.

An hour or so later, Sokka found some berries, they were small and purple, and he recognised
them from his earlier travels through the Earth Kingdom, so he didn’t have to worry about an
accidental poisoning. A case of the shits would just be adding insult to injury at this point,
and also probably kill them.

The berries were a little off season, turning overly sweet and mushy, but they offered a small
amount of precious energy and a little extra fluid. Now the rain had stopped, the thirst was
back in full force.

“Here, Zuko, take some,” he said.

Zuko paused to eye the handful of squished fruit in Sokka’s hand. “I’m fine, you eat them.”

“You are not fine, we’ll eat half each,” Sokka insisted.

“I’m fine, not hungry. Let’s keep moving.”

Sokka rolled his eyes as dramatically as he could, even though Zuko wasn’t actually
watching. He had already started walking again. His refusal was worrying, it wasn’t due to
the fruit's mushed and unappealing state; they had eaten pickles that had literally been stuck
to Zuko’s chest and enjoyed them, it didn’t get much more desperate than that.

If he genuinely wasn’t hungry, or if he was nauseous, that was something that would need to
be dealt with.

“Hold up, Sunshine.”

Predictably, Zuko turned round to snarl at the nickname. “Don’t call me that.”

“I’ll call you whatever I like. And it’s funny, because you are the least sunny person I have
ever met.”

“You’re not as funny as you think you are, Water Tribe.”

Oh, fighting words. “Wrong, I am a comedic genius. You just have an underdeveloped sense
of humour. And if you don’t come eat these berries, I will be forced to regale you with
humorous anecdotes.” Sokka smiled threateningly. “Perhaps I could turn them into verse, a
joke that’s sung is probably twice as funny as one that’s just spoken.”

Zuko looked suitably, and a little insultingly, concerned. “Please don’t, haven’t we suffered
enough?” he said, plaintively.

Sokka barked a laugh. “I take it back, you can carry a joke.” Then he sobered a little. “Please
eat a few? I promise they’re safe. And you need the energy as much as I do, even if you’re
feeling ill.”

“Not sick, just not hungry.”

“Zuko, we have been nothing but ravenous for over a month. You not being hungry is not
normal.”
Zuko actually paused long enough for Sokka to catch up and get a good look at him. He was
in a state, worse than when they had left the beach, if that was possible. Pale and a little
shaky. It could be exhaustion, Sokka hoped it was, but he had a horrible feeling he was
getting sick. “Please, Zuko,” he said.

Zuko chewed his split lip for a moment, “Okay, if it will make you shut up.” He took the
berries and forced them down, although he looked like he was struggling not to bring them
up again. “Let’s go.” he said. Sokka was starting to hate those words.

They walked. As the day wore on, it became increasingly obvious that Zuko was struggling.

It was frightening. Zuko’s tenacity, his strength, both physical and mental, was something
Sokka had grown used to relying on. He would just keep going no matter what the universe
threw at him. That hadn’t changed, not really, but there was only so much a body could take,
even if the mind moving it was nothing but pure stubbornness. He was flushed and sweating
precious water, and his path through the woods had started to become a little wonky. He was
weaving and lurching as he walked, and had to catch himself on trees as they passed, either to
prevent himself falling over, or more worryingly, to stop himself from just walking right into
them.

Sokka was staggering along behind him, cursing every plant that had ever dropped its twigs
to the floor for unsuspecting travellers to walk on, but he was keeping more of an eye on
Zuko than he was where he was putting his feet. There didn’t seem to be anything he could
actually do to help, but he was going to have to do something. He considered his options on
how to take more decisive action as he watched his friend wobbling ahead of him, muttering
and snarling at the foliage as he tripped and stumbled forward on scratched and battered feet.

Staring intently at Zuko as he flailed along in front of him, Sokka noticed the sweat on his
legs was becoming discoloured, at first he thought the red dye from the shirt was running.

Then he realised it wasn’t.

He had not actually let himself consider the more intimate injuries Zuko might have, and he
should have done. It was a stupid thing not to think about, and also something Zuko would
never, ever mention. All of this walking must be excruciating for him, and who knew what
sort of damage he was doing to himself by ignoring it? But of course he was still bloody
going. It was like he was trying to outrun it. Perhaps, in a way, he was.

Right, enough of this. “Ow!” Sokka said loudly. “Zuko, stop a moment, I think I’ve twisted
my ankle.” He hobbled a little to prove his point and painted the most pained expression he
could on his face. It wasn’t exactly hard, his whole body hurt, and the burns on his arms were
throbbing worryingly.

“Lemme see,” Zuko demanded, a slight slur in his words. He knelt, more of a controlled
collapse than the smooth, graceful movements he usually used. He held out a hand
imperiously.

Sokka limped over and then dropped to his arse in the dirt, proffering one sore foot for Zuko
to poke. Zuko took hold of his ankle and began prodding the skin while Sokka made
appropriately upset sounds. He didn’t have to fake it, he was glad his ankle was not actually
sprained, because Zuko’s ministrations were as always, as gentle as a mule’s kick to the face.

He rotated Sokka’s ankle critically. “It’s not broken,” he said. He continued to hold the joint,
hot fingers clutching it a little too hard. He looked bemused, like he had forgotten why it was
in his hands.

“Can we stop? At least for a bit?” Sokka asked hopefully.

The moment of apparent confusion passed, and Zuko’s face cleared, reforming into an
annoyed frown. “No.”

Well, that was to be expected. “Zuko, we have to rest. If I keep going, I’m not going to make
it.” That probably wasn’t even a lie. He did need to rest occasionally, even if the idea seemed
beyond Zuko’s comprehension.

Zuko scowled down at the offending foot like he might be able to threaten it into fixing itself.
His fingers tightened even more on the delicate bones, making Sokka wince. “We should
continue until it gets dark, then make camp,” he decided finally. “We can rest a bit then move
at first light.”

That was probably the best concession he was going to get. Sokka calculated that it was
about another hour of walking. Doable for him, and hopefully for Zuko too. The only other
option was to try to sit on him to make him take a break, and that was likely to result in
broken bones (Sokka’s). “Okay, help me up,” he said reluctantly. He was quite enjoying
sitting, and now he was not only going to have to do more walking, he was going to have to
pretend to limp for an hour. It would be worth it though, if he made Zuko stop long enough
for his body to have a break.

Then he was going to have to think about what to do about the other thing. A few hours of
rest wouldn’t stop the bleeding, and Zuko’s other injuries needed to be disinfected too. He
wished again he had more knowledge of the Earth Kingdom’s plants, something that could
draw the infection out of wounds, or even something safe to make a poultice out of.

Zuko heaved himself to his feet, wobbled a bit, and then reached out a hand for Sokka. He
tugged him upright, and Sokka grabbed his shoulder to steady himself. He was radiating heat,
and not in a firebender kind of way.

Zuko was looking at him with a critical eye, weighing up his ability to keep up, no doubt.
“Lean on me,” he said finally. “Keep some of the weight off it.”

This sounded easy, but Zuko set off at the same determined but disordered pace he had been
using before, causing the pair of them to lurch through the under-bush like a couple of
drunks. It probably would have been hilarious to watch if it hadn’t been so fucking sad.
They finally stopped in a clearing beneath a big tree. They didn’t so much as sit, as flop into a
jumbled heap of limbs, too exhausted to even bother to untangle themselves. Sokka thought
even Zuko might have reached his limit, his had been reached about three hours ago.

“Sleep here?” he asked, barely able to get his words out.

Zuko grunted in what Sokka assumed was acknowledgement. The sound vibrated through
Sokka’s cheek, where it was resting on Zuko’s chest. Spirits, but he was hot. It wasn’t just
from exertion; he was definitely running a fever.

“You doing okay?” he asked. He wasn’t expecting a sensible answer, and he didn’t get one.

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure? Because I think you would say ‘yeah’ even if you had lost a leg to gangrene
and your hair was on fire.”

Zuko blinked up at the canopy. “Been on fire, don’t recommend,” he slurred.

Sokka heaved himself up on his elbows so he could look at him properly. Zuko’s eyes were a
little unfocused and his face was flushed. Sokka pressed a hand to his forehead. “You’re
feverish,” he said, although he already knew that. A new spike of fear was working its way
up through his guts.

He was so sick of being afraid. He just wanted a moment’s peace, was that too much to ask?

“Not,” Zuko insisted, closing his eyes. “Just tired.”

Well, that was bullshit, but there was nothing much more Sokka could do with their limited
resources and his own exhaustion and thirst clouding his mind. “Sleep for a bit then,” he said.
The worry had settled low in his stomach, on top of all the other fear and anxiety. He had to
think logically and practically. There was no point wishing for things they didn’t have.

Tomorrow, he would look for a proper source of water, and see if he could find anything
recognisable to treat Zuko’s fever. It was probably an infection, exacerbated by everything his
body had gone through in the past month. Not to mention the battering his emotional well-
being had taken, although Sokka suspected it hadn’t been in a particularly healthy state
before then either.

It was unclear how long it would take him to find fresh, drinkable water, so Sokka hauled his
tired aching body up again, and lay his bits of cloth over some low-hanging branches, hoping
to catch the morning dew.

When he was done, Zuko was already asleep, curled into an awkward-looking ball and
shivering slightly. Unsure how to help, Sokka pulled him in close, at once terrified by the
heat rolling off him like a furnace, and also ridiculously grateful for it in the chill air.

Hopefully, it would be better in the morning.

In the morning, it was worse.

Sokka actually woke first, and the sun was already high. This was bad. They had lost
precious time, and his dew traps were practically dry. He had to shake Zuko awake. He was
sweating and shivering and his unburned cheek was pink. There was no way they were going
to be able to keep moving. Zuko was losing fluid too fast and the need for water had just
accelerated dramatically.

Zuko sat up, looking bleary and confused. He rubbed his scarred eye like a little kid and
blinked up at Sokka as he stood. Sokka marshalled his arguments and set himself steady in
the dirt, digging his toes in and ready to verbally fight to the death. “Zuko, I’m going to scout
the area a bit, find us something to eat and drink before we head out, okay?” he said, starting
nice and simple. He would work his way up to threats and begging.

Instead of fighting, Zuko nodded, still scrubbing at his face.

The lack of argument was the most worrying thing he had done yet, and it filled Sokka with a
steady trickle of quickly growing panic.

Sokka didn’t want to go too far, but he knew he might have to. He had left Zuko dozing
under the big tree, safe for now, but leaving him undefended in that state was a source of
intense anxiety. The only thing he could do was be as quick as he possibly could. He avoided
the low hanging thick under-bush that was made up of some dense, prickly trees with deep
green leaves, and stuck to the game trails he found. They were less hard on his feet, which
gave him a little speed, and he hoped they would ultimately lead to a water source.

Along the side of the track, he found some tart looking, pale berries he didn’t recognise. He
picked one and squashed it between his fingers. It smelled sweet and tangy, and his mouth
watered. But he wasn’t an idiot, no matter how hungry he was. He rubbed a little of the juice
on the inside of his elbow and took a note of where they were. If there was no reaction, he
would pick them on his way back.

The trail wound on, heading slowly downward while the vegetation got thicker and more
difficult to navigate. After ten or so minutes, with no burning or discomfort on his arm, he
put a little of the fruit pulp still on his fingers to his lips and tasted a bit on his tongue. It was
sharp, with a hint of the promised sweetness. He figured if his lips didn’t swell or itch by the
time he headed back, he could stuff his purse full of them, and hopefully that would give
them the boost they needed to move on again. He wiped the remaining juice on his pants and
walked on, listening carefully for the sound of running water.

He paused when he thought he could hear a distant sound. It could be a stream or river
beating against the rocks, and his heart swelled with hope. He pushed forward, pausing every
now and again to orientate himself.
He was so intent on following the noise, he almost missed the other sound. The rustle of
leaves that indicated something large moving through the foliage. He stopped and had a wild
vision of some delicious animal he could eat. But unless he was going to try to tackle it with
nothing but his hands, there was no point getting excited. After water, weapons were going to
be next on his list. He thought he might be able to fashion a crude sling, and certainly a spear,
if he found the right kind of stone to create a point.

The noise came again, and he paused, his tired and foggy brain finally letting go of its
frenzied thoughts about food and returning to earth with a bump. That wasn’t the sound of
something passing by. The way it stopped when he did? That was something stalking him.

Adrenaline started pumping, and he stopped, looking intently at the general direction the
rustling was coming from.

Suddenly, in the distance, there came the faint sound of shouting. Back from the direction of
the camp, where he had left Zuko sick and defenceless. Horror rushed through him, and the
awful reality of what was happening hit him the same moment as the Fire Nation soldier
lunged out of the dense bushes.

Those few hours of extra sleep had caught up with them. Zhao’s men, healthy and well fed
and with shoes, had traveled through the night.

“Stop!” the soldier shouted, his sword drawn.

Fear rushed over Sokka like a wave and he flung himself to the side, rolled, regained his feet
and then he ran.
 Chapter 2
Chapter Summary

He would just have to keep going and trust in hope.

Chapter Notes

Warnings for this chapter: brief description of wounds, dead people, grief and death
(presumed), Momo is a traitor, discussion of child abuse/Zuko’s scar

Many thanks to my beta burkesl17, who has managed to wrangle my dyslexic nonsense.
All mistakes are my own.

Sokka ran with no thought other than to get away. He could barely see through the adrenaline
shooting under his skin. He shoved branches and reaching, grabbing vegetation away from
him as he hurtled deeper into the woods. Despite his wild panic, he was still very aware that
the soldier was right behind him, huge and armoured. There was no way he could outrun him.

Slamming through thick foliage, feeling it tug at his skin, he felt like a rabbit being pursued
by a hound, too frightened to dodge and weave to save itself.

He had to think.

Ahead of him was a thick collection of the low hanging, prickly bushes that he had been
cursing during the long walk the day before. There was a small gap beneath the branches,
bare of scrub, but full of twigs and debris. Sokka might fit under there, but the soldier
couldn’t, not without beating away the hard, thickly clustered leaves. He dove for it. Pulling
himself through the dirt would take too much time so he rolled, his hair and skin catching and
tearing as he made it under the overhang, just ahead of the soldier’s reaching hand. As
predicted, the large man couldn’t follow, and instead hacked at it with his sword. Sokka
pulled himself further under the bush, clutching at the dirt with his fingers and wiggling
forward, panting with panic and exertion. The pumping fear made him impervious to the pain
as the low branches scratched along his back, although if he survived long enough, he would
suffer for it tomorrow. As soon as he reached the other side, he hauled himself to his feet. He
took a moment to orientate himself. He couldn’t see his peruser, but he could hear him
crashing over to the side, trying to go around.

Sokka took off again, running as fast as his abused body would allow, his feet not even
feeling the pain of the prickly scrub. He hadn’t realised he was heading towards the sound of
the water until he was tumbling arse over elbow down the sharp bank. He landed face first in
a fast-moving stream. The water was both a blessing and a curse as it rushed over his head.
The mixed feelings of fear and the strange terror the sensation brought him were temporarily
drowned out by his thirst, and the gulps of fresh, clean water he swallowed down. He had to
force himself to stop so he didn’t vomit it all back up. His stomach already felt full and heavy
with the few frantic mouthfuls he had allowed himself.

Then he was up again, and running upstream, keeping his feet in the water to avoid telltale
wet footprints. Sokka ran until he was gasping, his body flat out refusing to go further,
despite the tide of panic still washing over him. He needed to hide. He could still hear shouts.
The soldier seemed to have been joined by at least one other, and although they were out of
view, they were clearly still chasing him.

Quickly Sokka shook the water from his hair and stripped off his pants to wring them out as
best he could. Then he dried his sore feet on a small patch of green moss and pulled his damp
trousers back on. No need to leave more of a trail than necessary. If he couldn’t outrun them,
then he had to be sneaky.

He picked his way carefully though the foliage, trying not to leave any sign of his passing—
he had probably left a path a blind man could see in his initial dash. Hopefully they would
keep searching for the same trail and overlook any small traces.

Sokka headed for more of the low hanging bushes, he had hated them before, but now they
might be his only chance. He wiggled his way under, his scratched back stinging and
throbbing at the further abuse he was subjecting it to. Once he reached the trunk he lay still.
His heart was pounding, and he felt sick with adrenaline.

He could still hear yelling as the soldiers hunted him. He was going to have to wait it out.

It was only then that he let himself think about Zuko.

The fear for his friend was crushing. There was no doubt in his mind that the Fire Nation
soldiers had found their camp. They had not been attempting to cover their tracks, stupidly
relying on their head start. But Zhao had an entire warship of soldiers he could utilise, and he
had probably dropped them all along the coast.

Sokka couldn’t believe this had happened. They had been free barely more than a day.

Feelings of horror and despair flooded through him. It felt like there was no hope. It was a
certainty that Zhao would kill Zuko, and it would not be a quick or pleasant death.

He felt hot tears prick his eyes as he lay with his cheek in the dirt. It smelt like the earth, like
old leaves, like freedom. It wasn’t fair. They had been so damn close. Zuko didn’t deserve to
die by that bastard’s hand. He didn’t deserve any of this. Neither of them did. It wasn’t fair!

Sokka tried to hold back the tears, sick of crying, sick of feeling helpless. He couldn’t risk
making a sound, and he couldn’t risk losing control of himself, so he bit his lip and took
some deep breaths, trying to ignore the bitter-sweet smell of the ground and the lost chances
it represented.
The question was, what now? He didn’t doubt Zuko had been captured. If he had been
healthy, even unarmed, Sokka would give him even odds. But in the state he had been in
when Sokka had left him? He didn’t think even Zuko’s tenacity would win out against the
soldiers.

Sokka felt deep twisting guilt. Why had he left him? He scrubbed a dirty hand over his face.
He knew why. It had been necessary, they had needed water, without it Zuko would have
died. The logic was there, it just didn’t feel that way. And no matter the sound reasoning
behind it, he didn’t think he would ever forgive himself.

As time wore on, he struggled with what his next move should be. The forest was returning
to its usual noisy quiet. Birds were singing and the buzzing of insects sounded loud, along
with the wind stirring the leaves.

What to do? He had two options, he could do the sensible thing; he was free, and he could
probably remain so. Zhao’s men had what they needed, however much they wanted Sokka,
Zuko was the more important target. With him captured, they might have just returned to the
ship. Even if they hadn’t, Sokka knew how to travel without leaving too much of a trail. He
had access to water, and he knew at least two kinds of edible fruit that grew in the area. He
could keep moving, maybe even find someone who could help him.

Or he could go after the soldiers. Although what he could possibly do to help was beyond
him. Unarmed, unskilled in hand to hand combat and still weak and starving, he may as well
just fling himself onto the nearest sword. The thought of being recaptured, of being handed
back to Ro, of punishment, filled him with a feeling of such dread it stole his breath.

Sokka could almost convince himself that the best option was to head on, find help and
launch a rescue, but who? Where? It would just be a lie he told himself to feel better. If he
chose to continue his journey, there would be no rescue. If by a miracle he found someone
willing to help him, it would almost certainly be too late.

What would Zuko do? A month ago, Sokka’s answer to that would have been easy, but now?
The moron would probably arm himself with a big stick and challenge the lot of them to a
duel. No, even Zuko wasn’t that dumb. He would come up with some batshit plan with a high
probability of death and disaster, and then he would go do it. It would probably result in him
attempting to beat up the soldiers with a stick anyway, but he would do it. Because he was a
lunatic, and because he was loyal to those he cared about. Sokka was in no doubt that he had
somehow become one of those people.

If he chose the completely suicidal option, Sokka only had only two things that gave him any
advantage. Firstly, no one would expect him to be following the soldiers, they would
anticipate he would run like his arse was on fire in the opposite direction, like any sensible
person would. Secondly, he was smart. He could actually make a plan and not resort to flying
by the seat of his pants when everything he hadn’t factored in came crashing down on him,
like certain other people would end up doing.

He snorted affectionately. Zuko really was an idiot, and Sokka couldn’t abandon him, even if
it meant his own death.
What use was he, anyway? Sokka had no part to play in the war, not really. He wasn’t like
Aang or Katara, he was just some guy. So, at least he would die with his honour intact. He
snorted again, heart squeezing as he began detangling himself from the bush. Apparently the
honour thing was catching.

He would find them somehow and then he would…Well, he would see what the situation was
and come up with a plan. He would almost certainly fail, but he thought it would be worth it
anyway. And it might give him the chance to die fighting. He had no intention of
surrendering and returning to that fucking boat. If it came to it, perhaps he could take out
Zuko too. His death was guaranteed if they took him back to Zhao, and it would be a mercy if
he died before they got their hands on him again.

Decided, Sokka brushed off his pants and headed carefully back to the stream.

When he found the water, he crouched by the bank to drink, his toes squishing in the mud. He
looked at his scratched knees. The colour of his torn pants would draw the eye, so he stripped
them off and squashed them into the mud, coating as much of the bright red as he could
before putting them back on, wet and horrible. It wouldn’t last forever and would flake and
dry, but the dirt helped dull the hateful colour.

He began to carefully retrace his path as best he could. During his mad dash he had not been
paying attention to his surroundings and it wasn’t until he found the place the soldiers had
discovered the stream that he could backtrack with any confidence.

Once he found his original path, the going was much easier, and it didn’t take him long to
reach the area they had camped. He approached cautiously. He couldn’t hear anything but the
buzzing of flies, and he was fairly certain the soldiers were long gone, but it wasn’t worth
accidentally blundering into a trap.

The flies grew louder as he approached on careful, quiet feet. He only realised why after he
finally stepped into what had been their camp.

He stared in horror at the blood. There was a lot of it, far too much for a man to survive
losing. It was sprayed up the big tree, splattered red on the dirt and scrub. There were clear
signs of a struggle, too, the earth was churned from booted feet and a few scorch marks
stained the surrounding trees.

There wasn’t a body. Sokka took a few deep breaths to steady himself and felt the bile rise at
the smell. He had to think through all the options. Panic would get him nowhere. Could Zuko
have somehow disarmed a soldier and killed him? But if that had happened, where was the
corpse? Perhaps the soldiers had carried it away with them for proper funeral rites?
Everything they did seemed shrouded in ritual, so it would make sense.

He tried to picture it and failed.

The much more likely option was that they had come upon Zuko, he had fought back and
they had killed him. It would piss Zhao off not to do it himself, but it would not be the worst
outcome for him. He would need to see the body for proof, so they would have taken it to the
ship with them.
Sokka’s legs gave out and he thumped down in the dirt. How had this happened? How had
any of it happened? He felt tears again, but fought them back. Until he knew for sure, until he
saw a body, he would continue to operate under the assumption Zuko had been taken alive.
He had to, the other option was unacceptable. Sniffling a little, he examined the campsite a
little closer. It didn’t reveal a lot of clues, other than the obvious, but the path the soldiers had
taken was clear—there were drag marks in the dirt, smeared with blood. Sokka took a few
shaky breaths before following them. The blood got fainter the further along the trail he went,
the person being dragged had bled out while being moved. Sokka felt dizzy and sick at the
thought.

When he heard the flies again, he slowed, this time anticipating something unpleasant up
ahead. The trees were thinner, but the undergrowth was thick here. Sokka pushed past
scraggly branches, some already broken from the soldiers' passage. He had found the source
of the insect activity.

Hidden under a heap of hastily cut branches was a small pile of bodies. He could see at least
five bare feet sticking out from the leaves, partly hidden by the rough scrubby grass.

Sokka’s heart started beating faster again. This made little sense, but it gave him a jolt of
equal parts fear and desperate, wild hope.

He dragged the branches clear. There were three people lumped on top of each other without
any real care, all adult men, too big to be Zuko. They were barefoot and stripped of any
armour or weapons, but their undershirts and trousers were familiar Fire Nation colours.
Sokka was reluctant to touch them, hours dead, the flies were beginning to settle. He needed
more information though, and sitting here blinking at them wasn’t going to help.

He rolled the top man over onto his back. His throat was cut in an ugly wound, and he had
suffered a blow to the head. Sokka didn’t recognise him, but that didn’t mean much. There
must have been hundreds of men on that huge ship.

He tugged over the next one. His light amber eyes were staring at the canopy. Whoever had
dumped him here had not closed them. He didn’t know if the Fire Nation did that, but many
cultures he had encountered closed the eyes of their dead out of respect. So that was possibly
a strong indicator they had not been left here by their crew. The man had a lot of blood on his
torso, soaked into the red material of his clothing. Gingerly, Sokka lifted his undershirt to see
the wounds. Definitely caused by a bladed weapon, a sword probably by the size. He had the
sudden hopeful thought that perhaps Zuko had managed to disarm his attackers and kill them.
But the hidden bodies wouldn’t make sense in that scenario, Zuko would have left them and
run.

The last man Sokka recognised, Oto? Ota? Something like that. Zuko had kicked him in the
head when Zhao had first ordered them to strip. He had been stabbed in the back, then his
throat had been cut, crude and violent. Sokka wrestled down the bile that rose up, stinging
and sharp. The man’s face was scratched, like he’d been clawed by a wild animal.

Or perhaps, by a sick, desperate teenager with nothing else at his disposal.

Sokka took a few more bracing breaths, ignoring the metallic smell of the blood. He
examined the corpse more closely, inspected the wounds, they did look like they could have
been caused by fingernails. He rolled up the guy’s sleeves to see if he could see any other
defensive injuries and found more scratches, as well as what looked like a human bite mark
on the wrist.

Yup, definitely Zuko.

Sokka’s legs gave out on him for the second time.

Zuko wasn’t here, and these men had died by the blade, efficient and brutal.

The soldiers had attacked the camp and Zuko had struggled with them, that much was clear
from the evidence. And then, it seemed, the soldiers themselves had been attacked. But by
who? Bandits? Earth Kingdom soldiers? Angry town’s folk?

But most importantly, where was Zuko? Had he been rescued, or captured? Either was a
likely option.

Or possibly, rescued, and then captured, as soon as he opened his mouth. Sokka had exactly
zero faith he would be able to maintain any sort of a cover story for more than thirty seconds.
And his eyes were very distinctive, even for the Fire Nation they were unusually…Fire
Nationy.

But, while there was no body, there was hope—far more than if Zhao’s men had captured
him. Maybe they would be fortunate and he had been unconscious when he was taken, no
speaking or yelling, and no weird cat-snake eyes glaring at his rescuers.

But knowing Zuko’s luck, probably not.

Sokka pulled himself up, ordering his thoughts and calming his breathing again. He was
going to have to continue to track the men who had done this and hope for the best. He
scouted the area and picked up the trail. If he was to guess, there had been several men. They
had been travailing carefully, but booted warriors left a clear path for someone who knew
what they were looking for, and Sokka had been tracking since he was old enough to hunt.
The woods were different from the terrain he was used to; ice and snow, and rough, grassy
tundra in the brief summer months. But the principles were the same.

He walked for close to half an hour until he hit a wide dirt track. There was more evidence of
their passing here, footprints in the muddy ground. There had been many men wearing sturdy
boots, and some weird three-toed footprints, probably those freakish bird things the Earth
Kingdom seemed to like for transport.

It was still unclear if he was tracking soldiers or bandits, but Sokka suspected they were
organised, not wild kids like the Freedom Fighters, or angry town folk.

There was nothing else he could do but follow. He kept off the road, sticking to just beyond
the tree line, and checking every now and again to make sure they hadn’t turned aside and
headed back into the forest. He was already hours behind them, and he was on foot, where
they appeared to be mostly mounted.

But he would just have to keep going and trust in hope.

………………………

The mood as they made camp was solemn. Katara went through the motions of preparing
food. Their provisions were still good, so she opted to make a stew using a selection of dried
meat and vegetables, along with some of their meagre supply of rice to thicken it. They
needed something hearty and filling after the day they had just had.

Aang set up the camp, waving off an offer of help from Uncle. Instead, the old man brewed
tea, using the pot apparently given to him by Master Pakku, and then sat, staring at the fire.
Momo crawled into his lap and chittered at him while he absently stroked the lemur's fur. As
soon as Uncle had joined them, he became Momo’s favourite nap spot. Katara was slightly
offended at his immediate defection to the Fire Nation, but Aang had been amused.
Apparently firebenders put out more heat than the average person, creating an allure that
Katara could understand in the chill of the North Pole, so she felt able to forgive Momo for
his indiscretions, most of the time at least.

Even the lemur’s furry presence didn’t seem to help the old man today. Katara sat beside him,
hoping to offer what comfort she could. “I’m sorry, Uncle,” she said. She reached out to lay a
hand on his arm. He covered her fingers with his own.

“Thank you, Katara. I know my nephew did not make the best of impressions.” He drew in a
deep breath, still shaky with tears, and Katara’s heart ached for him. She was a little surprised
she still had any room to feel for someone else’s pain, with her own still so raw. But she did.
The depth of his sadness and the miasma of loss that surrounded him touched her deeply.

“Zuko,” he paused again, collecting his thoughts. “My nephew was struggling. With his past,
with his future, and his place in the world. He was very sure that he knew what his path
should be, but I had hope for him, hope that he would come to see the reality of the situation.
Of the harm his father was causing the world, and the harm his father caused him directly.”

“He did some bad things, but I know he wasn’t truly a bad person,” Aang said, joining them
by the fire.

It was still a little baffling to Katara just how upset Aang was. It was one thing to be moved
by an old man’s pain and grief, but it was more than that, it was Zuko himself that Aang
seemed to be morning. As if he needed more people to lose.
“Thank you, young Avatar, I would understand if you did not feel that way, but I am grateful
that you do.”

“Please call me Aang.”

The old man smiled a little, although it faded quickly. “Very well. My name is Iroh, but I
would like it if you continued to call me uncle.” Katara blushed a little at his knowing glance.
The fact they had forgotten his name had apparently not passed him by.

“Thanks, Uncle,” Aang said, but he couldn’t inject much enthusiasm into his voice.

“Is there a possibility she was lying?” Katara asked. She moved a hand, using her bending to
stir the broth as it simmered over the fire.

“There is always the possibility, but I fear it has the ring of truth to it. And it is the course of
action my brother would take. Although I had anticipated them taking him home to stand
trial.”

“Why didn’t he? His own son?” It wasn’t something Katara could comprehend. Even if Zuko
had committed treason, why wouldn’t the Fire Lord want to hear him out? Why wouldn’t he
try to save him, even if the law was clear?

“You said he was out of favour with his father, is that why?” Aang asked. He was looking
longingly at Momo, who was still contentedly sleeping in the old man's lap, snoring his small
lemur snores. Now there was a little traitor.

Iroh sighed, long and deep. “It was a bit more serious than falling out of favour. His father
never favoured him, never liked him. I fear I overlooked much of what went on in their
household, too busy with my own son, and with the war.” He shook his head. “Ozai wanted
him gone, he considered him weak and unsuitable to rule.”

“Weak?” Katara asked, doubtfully. That was not a word she would have used to describe
Zuko, and she was not shy with the substantial collection of insults she had for him.

Iroh hummed. “His bending came late, and when it did, it was not as powerful as Ozai had
hoped. He struggled with it and was unable to match his sister, despite being her elder.” He
stared into the fire, lost in a memory. “But it was not just his fire that Ozai deemed lacking.
Zuko did not have the desire to do violence, the ruthless bloody-mindedness or willingness to
cause harm to further his own ends that Ozai wanted in an heir.”

Aang was nodding, but Katara could remember quite a lot of violence and a considerable
amount of bloody-mindedness and it must have shown on her face.

Uncle chuckled, a little sad. “I am not saying he was not capable of it, or that he was not
violent in his actions, or even that he did not do great harm to others. That would be untrue.
But as a child he had more gentleness in him, I believe that was still there, no matter his
father tried to burn it out of him.”

“Please tell me you don’t mean that literally, Uncle,” Aang said, without much hope.
Iroh’s lips thinned. “Three years ago, when Zuko was thirteen, he spoke out in a war council
in defence of a company of soldiers a general wished to use as bait in a campaign. Instead of
seeing the promise in Zuko’s love for his people, my brother saw the perfect opportunity to
be rid of him. I didn’t comprehend it at the time, and didn't realise the danger. That will be
something I will regret until my last breath.”

“What happened,” Aang asked. He looked a little like he didn’t actually want to know. Katara
wasn’t sure she did either. She was quite happy not liking Zuko, not mourning him or feeling
sorry for him.

But she also felt the child he had been deserved to have someone listen to his story, even after
death.

“As you know, my nephew was not very good at containing his emotions. When he got upset,
he tended to react...” Iroh seemed to be looking for a word that would not reflect too harshly
on Zuko.

“Loudly?” Katara offered, making Uncle smile a little. She felt warmed at the sight of it.

“Indeed. During his outburst, he insulted the general, who then challenged him to an Agni
Kai, a duel between firebenders.”

“Some old guy challenged a thirteen-year-old prince, and that was… okay?” Katara said. She
could never get her head around the Fire Nation. Every time they seemed to humanise
themselves, like with the Fire Sage who had helped them, or Iroh himself, she learned
something new that brought all the disgust and hate crashing back. There was something
rotten and wrong at the core of them.

“Yes, they accepted it, although they should not have.” Iroh looked momentarily furious. “As
I said, my brother saw an opportunity, and he took it. He claimed that as this insult had been
made in his war room, he was actually the wounded party.” Iroh paused to take a sip of his
tea, heating the cup gently in his hands.

Aang used the lull in conversation to grab Momo and hug him to his own chest. The lemur
made a disgruntled chattering noise. Katara eyed them, she could understand the impulse, she
had a feeling she might also want a lemur shaped security blanket to hug before this story
was over. “Are you saying, the Fire Lord fought his own son in a duel?” She asked.

“That was his intention, yes, and it was a clever plan,” Iroh said. His eyes were fierce,
glittering yellow and orange in the firelight. “It wouldn’t matter if Zuko won or lost, he
would still die.”

“I don’t understand,” Aang said. Momo squawked as he was squeezed a little tighter.

“To raise arms against the Fire Lord is treason. He would have had every right to kill his son
in the arena.”

Arena? It was in public? What kind of father did that? What kind of lord of anything would
not feel shame fighting their own child?
“Even if he was not killed outright, Ozai would have had the choice to put him to death for
daring to fight him,” Iroh continued.

“But he survived.”

The old man nodded. “Yes, because Ozai failed to understand his son. He could only think
about what he would have done in Zuko’s situation. He would not have not been able to resist
attempting to strike down his father to usurp the throne. Something Zuko would never do.
My brother could not see it, because he could not understand that his son not only feared him,
but also loved and respected him.”

Katara wondered if she could get away with a turn hugging Momo. It would probably be
unkind to take him away from Aang, but judging from the expression of mild distress on the
lemur’s face, he would probably be grateful for the intervention. “What happened, Uncle?”
she asked reluctantly.

“Zuko refused to fight. He prostrated himself on the ground and begged for forgiveness.”

Katara struggled to picture it; Zuko was too proud, too aggressive, but she knew Iroh was
telling the truth.

“This left Ozai in a predicament. Although Zuko’s actions shamed him, he was not breaking
any laws by refusing. If My brother then killed him, it would just be the public murder of his
child.”

It was a relief to know the Fire Nation had some limits to it’s barbarity.

Iroh closed his eyes against the memory, his face drawn tight and lined with pain, and Katara
thought, shame. “Instead, he burned him, and banished him.”

Aang gasped, but Katara wasn’t surprised, it was obvious that was where this story was
leading.

“The burn was deep, and the chances of survival were slim, but Zuko beat the odds. He is…
was a remarkably tenacious boy, single-minded and driven.” Iroh shook his head. “Trying to
get him to look at the big picture was…difficult, but I had hoped we had time.”

“So why was he still loyal to the Fire Lord, after all that?” Aang asked.

“Because he still loved his father, and wanted to go home,” Katara guessed. Ugh, she didn’t
want to feel sorry for him.

Iroh nodded. “The terms of his banishment allowed for him to return only having captured
the Avatar.”

Katara stared at the fire. Well, that put things into perspective, and also made what the Fire
Lord had done twice as cruel. “Which was impossible, because the Avatar had been missing
for a hundred years.”

“Precisely.”
Katara realised her broth had bubbled down to a sludge, and quickly added a little more
water, hoping the others hadn’t noticed. It didn’t seem like they had. Iroh was looking into his
tea cup like he could see all his regrets reflected back at him, and Aang had his face in his
hands. Katara could practically feel the guilt rolling off him.

“You can’t possibly blame yourself for this,” she told him sternly.

He lifted his head, eyes sad and weighed down with all the pain he had suffered these past
few months. “No, I can’t, and I couldn’t have given myself up to save him, but it’s not fair or
right what happened. And that makes me angry.” The breeze picked up a little, fanning the
sparks under the fire.

She nodded, it made her angry, too. What must it have felt like to be on that fruitless hunt for
years, and then to just have the Avatar pop up almost right under your nose? The hope must
have been intolerable. Something she was familiar with after the past month of desperately
hunting through the dead. She looked back at Iroh. “So you went with him to get him to
understand what his father did was wrong? Change his way of thinking?” She still couldn’t
quite get a read on the old man. She trusted him in a superficial way. Certainly she trusted
him to help them while it benefited him, when they thought they would all go to King Bumi.
But his overall motives were still confusing and murky to her.

“In part. But also to keep him safe, not only from himself, although that boy gave me more
than a few of these grey hairs.” He turned to look at her, his eyes serious. “The thing about
leaving a disgraced heir alive, is even if that person has no wish for the throne themselves,
they will forever be a rallying point for people who wish to change the line of succession.”

That was a thought she had not considered. “People in Fire Nation want the Fire Lord gone?”
If that was the case, it changed the potential outlook for a world beyond the war, if such a
thing was ever possible.

“Of course. We have been at war for generations. People are used to loss and are taught that it
is noble to die for the cause. But as we advance and claim more land, we need more soldiers
to hold it, and we need more food to feed them. Yes, they rob the Earth Kingdom farmers and
line their pockets with the coins and goods of the conquered people, but it is never enough.
That strain on resources has a knock on effect. War is expensive, and as the army grows,
rather than pay the farmers more, they have to pay them less. All their grain, their crops and
their livestock go to the war effort while their children grow hungry. People care less about
fighting for an honourable cause when they have to watch their loved ones suffer.” He paused
to stare into his cup again, somber and regretful. “Yes, there are people, even in the Fire
Nation and especially the colonies, that want the war stopped, and the only way to do that, is
to put a new Fire Lord on the throne. So a rogue, possibly disillusioned, heir would be a
massive risk for Ozai.”

“He tried to have his son killed?” Katara asked, but it wasn’t really a question. Again, she
wasn’t shocked. She didn’t think there was anything the Fire Lord could do that would
surprise her at this point. She didn’t think Zuko would have been amenable to switching
sides, or trying to overthrow his father for the greater good. But the fanciful part of her
wished they could have at least tried to persuade him, knowing what they did now. He
probably would have just attacked them, and they would have had to chuck him in the ocean.
But it would have made her feel better to have at least tried.

“If I had not gone with my nephew, he would have died many times over. The assassins I
stopped never revealed where they came from, but they could come from nowhere else.”

The breeze was picking up again, whipping sparks in odd, uncoordinated directions, and
Katara eyed Aang worriedly. She wasn’t the only one getting wound up over the Fire Lord’s
despicable behaviour.

Iroh sighed again, deeply. “When he was fourteen, I missed one. Zuko was badly injured, but
he killed the man with a dagger. He was distressed at his injuries, the attack and his own
actions. He assumed it had been an attempt to rob him. I wrestled with telling him the truth of
the matter, and I still don’t know if I did right in withholding it. His emotions were so fragile,
I couldn’t bring myself to crush them further. Stupid. But I had hoped I had time.” He looked
like he was going to cry again, and Katara couldn’t bear it. She patted his arm and made a
little gesture for Aang to hand Momo back.

She still didn’t like Zuko, but she felt she understood him a little better. And with
understanding, she could offer a little forgiveness for his actions. She hoped that when it
came to it, they, or someone, anyone, wiped Ozai off the face of the earth.

She ladled out some broth, mostly saved from burning, and handed a bowl to Iroh. “Here,
Uncle, try to eat,” she said kindly.

“Thank you, Katara.”

They ate in silence. When the meal was done, Aang put down his bowl. “Uncle? I didn’t
know firebenders could bend lightning.”

“It is a technique currently known only to the royal line, although I suspect any firebender
with significant strength could do it if they learned.”

“Zuko’s sister shot you with it. She intended to kill you,” Aang said, his voice a little hard.

“Yes, she most certainly did.” Iroh looked speculative. “She is extremely powerful, with
considerable skill for her age. Ozai was always proud of her achievements, that his line had
produced such a prodigy.”

“You sound worried,” Katara said, with some concern. He didn’t sound worried about the
sister trying to murder him, he sounded worried about her. Katara had a feeling she would
not like wherever this was going, but that seemed to be par for the course when it came to
royal firebenders.

“I am. My brother is a powerful bender, he can call lightning very quickly, he learnt the skill
at seventeen. Azula is fourteen, she channeled that blast faster than I have ever seen someone
do, faster than I have even heard tell of in the old records. Ozai will not like her being better
than him, being stronger. It is only a matter of time until she stops being a source of pride and
becomes a threat.”
“But she’s loyal to him,” Aang objected. He looked tired, emotionally beaten down. Katara
could relate.

Iroh shook his head. “As with the incident with Zuko, Ozai can only think about what he
himself would do. If he had the means and opportunity to gain power, he would take it. He
only sees himself in her, her actual loyalty is irrelevant.”

“Your brother’s an arsehole,” Aang said, then clapped a hand over his mouth and blushed.
Katara snorted. She had heard him say far worse things, but she suspected cussing in front of
an elder was not something he was used to doing.

Iroh chuckled at him. “Don’t worry on my account, Aang. My nephew would regularly turn
the air blue when he got upset, my old ears can take it.” He smiled with genuine warmth.
“And you are correct, he is an arsehole.”

Katara rubbed her hands over her face. Spirits, but she felt stretched thin with the amount of
emotion she’d experienced this past twenty-four hours. On top of the past month of misery
and anguish, it just felt too much. “You’re worried about her. The person who just tried to
shoot you full of lightning,” she clarified again, somehow hoping the answer would be
different.

“I am worried. Azula was a difficult child, in a different way to her brother, and she does not
have your ability to act out of kindness, to see the good in the world. But she still is a child, a
dangerous one, but a child none the less. I do not believe children should be murdered
because of the way they were born or raised.”

“You think he will kill her?”

“Possibly, when she is no longer useful, yes,” Iroh said regretfully.

After seeing her in action today, Katara thought Azula might give the Fire Lord a run for his
money if it came to that, but she decided not to mention it.

“Your family has some serious issues,” Aang told Iroh earnestly. And Katara fought back a
smile.

Iroh chuckled. “Yes, very true. And I am not innocent in this, too absorbed in my own
problems. I should have looked closer at what was happening between Ozai and his children.
I should have looked closer at a lot of things.”

“What will you do?” Aang asked. He looked thoughtful. Katara hoped he was not planning to
transfer his confused feelings about Zuko onto the murderous sister. She was going to smack
him upside the head if he did.

“I have not decided.” Iroh said, pursing his lips. “But for the time being, I suggest we run. I
do not think my niece will make the same mistake twice.”

Katara couldn’t help but fervently agree.

 Chapter 3
Chapter Summary

It felt like the whole lot of them were sitting atop a barrel of blasting jelly, waiting for
the spark to set them off.

Chapter Notes

Please head the warnings on this one folks!

Warnings:

Discussion of injuries, including ones related to non-con. Speculation regarding what

may have happened to Zuko, non-graphic discussion about sexual violence during war
(specificity in regards to women)
If I missed anything let me know and I will add to the warnings!

Many thanks to my beta burkesl17, who has managed to wrangle my dyslexic nonsense.
All mistakes are my own.

Hakoda hated being off his ship. It made him feel wrong footed, and he couldn’t help
suspecting that was what his Earth Kingdom allies wanted. Perhaps that was unfair. They
meant him no harm or disrespect, but they had certain ideas about how things should be done,
and they often differed from Hakoda’s.

The factions within the camp were also complicated to navigate—General Huang was the
leader of the Earth Kingdom force, but the two captains under him disliked each other
intensely and seemed to argue every possible point just to annoy the other man. The situation
mirrored the one Hakoda had found himself in within his own ranks. Rakuq had objections to
any solution Hakoda tried to offer for their many logistical issues. Moving an army, even a
small one, both by ship and land, and trying to remain undetected was a nightmare. Feeding
them was even worse. The whole situation was complicated further because the methods of
leadership between Earth and Water were very different. Hakoda may have had the final say
in matters, but unlike the Earth Kingdom, where the general’s word was law, Hakoda’s
people worked as a collective to make choices for the tribe. It was different in battle, when
everyone knew their place, but when it came to the politics of actually getting them there, it
was a lot more complex. Not to mention the fractions that had sprung up within the two
groups. Rakuq had found an ally in Captain Yao, both hard-nosed and fuelled by enough
hatred to blinker them to the bigger picture at times. Although Hakoda suspected Yao was
also driven by ambition. He wanted a big win under his belt for his own reasons, unlike
Rakuq, who just wanted to wash the earth and sea in Fire Nation blood.

It wasn’t that Captain Shen lacked hatred. He certainly burned with it just as fiercely as the
rest of them, but like Hakoda, his passion came from a place of love and fear for his people,
as well as revenge for his losses. The schism between the two ways of looking at things made
all parties a little…fractious. It was just headache after headache.

It felt like the whole lot of them were sitting atop a barrel of blasting jelly, waiting for the
spark to set them off.

Hakoda wanted to go back to his ship, he felt more comfortable, more in control there, but
instead, the General gentlyinsisted that he camped with his men when they weren’t on the
move. Hakoda suspected he wanted to monitor him, in case he changed his mind and
disappeared to hunt for the man holding his son. The General wasn’t entirely wrong in his
concern, Hakoda did think about it, he thought about it every day. But he was resolved. He
couldn’t abandon his people with so little chance of success.

But despite his decision he was consumed with doubt, fear and grief. Every moment of every
day it lingered under his skin like a tumour growing and spreading. It made focusing difficult.
He had been staring at his maps for hours, taking nothing in.

“Hakoda,” Bato said, from the tent’s entrance.

Hakoda looked up, grateful for the interruption. “Please don’t tell me there’s been another
issue with the supply train. If I have to listen to one more Earth Kingdom official complain
about fish, I’m going to stick their heads in the refuse pile.”

“Worse than fish, scouting party’s back. It looks like it’s going to turn into a brawl.” Bato
looked resigned. He was feeling the strain of this alliance, too.

Hakoda slapped a hand to his face and rubbed vigorously. He knew sending Shen and Rakuq
out together had been a mistake, but Huang had insisted. Possibly to get them out the way so
he and Yao could harass Hakoda about supplies again. He didn’t mind feeding the soldiers
when their own goods were low, but he could do without all the complaining, as well as using
his fleet as glorified fishing boats. He heaved himself to his feet. He knew Bato was hoping
he could calm whatever the issue was, but he didn’t feel much in the mood for it. He felt like
throwing a few punches of his own.

He followed Bato through the encampment, letting the familiar smells and sounds of the men
going about their business wash over him. He could hear the yelling before he could see the
source.

“You were supposed to find their camp and observe, not engage!” Captain Yao was shouting.
“So you would have just walked on, would you? What does that say about you?” Shen
snapped back as Hakoda joined them. He was bloody and furious, leaning towards the other
man threateningly.

“If those were my orders, yes!”

“Shen, Yao,” Hakoda tried to interject before they broke protocol entirely and started
throwing punches. “What exactly is the problem?”

He glanced across to Rakuq, who also looked enraged. His body language seemed to put him
more in Yao’s camp than Shen’s, which was no doubt going to lead to Hakoda getting an
earful later. He held back an aggravated sigh.

“The problem, Hakoda,” Yao snarled, not breaking eye contact with Shen. “Is that the
Captain here disobeyed orders and put us all in jeopardy!”

“The woods are crawling with Fire Nation soldiers, engagement was inevitable!”

“Gentlemen,” Hakoda said, as sternly as he could. “A little restraint in front of the men.
Tempers are running high. I’m sure General Huang will deal with the discipline when he
arrives. In the meantime. Perhaps a little clarity?” Beside him, Bato snorted lightly. Dealing
with angry, fired up soldiers should not feel as much like wrangling small children as it did
sometimes. Tempers were frayed with inactivity and pre-battle anxiety, which resulted in the
need to fight something, even each other apparently.

Shen broke his stare off to glare at Hakoda. “It’s true. I did engage against orders. But I felt
the situation warranted it.”

“And the situation was?” Hakoda was on his last nerve. He wished he had the authority to
just bash their heads together.

“I thought I saw a soldier trying to subdue a half-naked girl.”

Hakoda’s eyebrows climbed. That did definitely sound like something that would justify an
intervention. “You rescued her?” he asked.

“It wasn’t a girl,” Rakuq interrupted. He sounded furious, too. Hakoda felt like he was
missing some vital parts of this conversation, and he was rapidly losing patience.

“What does that matter?” Shen snarled at him.

“Can someone please give me a proper report!” Hakoda demanded.

Shen straightened at the tone, used to responding to the voice of command. At least someone
was in this rabble. “I killed the soldier, and Rakuq is correct, it wasn’t a girl like I had
initially thought. It was a feral pigmy puma poorly disguised as a teenage boy. He bit me,
several times.” Shen held up a muscled forearm that was still bleeding sluggishly. “I don’t
think he could tell one set of soldiers from the other, to be honest. And I couldn’t leave him
there, half naked and hurt. So I brought him.” He jerked his thumb towards the collection of
ostrich-horses they had been riding. Hakoda realised there was in fact a kid tied face down
over the back of one of them, arms bound at the elbows and bare legs kicking angrily.

“And he’s tied up because?”

Rakuq strode forward and yanked the boy upright, thrusting him towards Hakoda with a little
shake. “This is why!” he said.

Hakoda stared at the kid in confusion. The burn scar was stark and angry against his pale
skin. It was, as always, shocking to see on one so young. He was more used to witnessing
savage burns on hardened soldiers, not scared, skinny teenagers. The poor kid looked like he
had taken a serious beating, too, actually, he looked like he’d been throttled, judging from the
ring of bruises around his throat. The boy could barely stand, and was wearing nothing but a
huge oversized shirt, which could have indeed been mistaken for a dress at a distance. For a
moment, Hakoda couldn’t understand what they were so furious about.

Clearly aware he had not made his point, Rakuq used a big hand to twist the unburnt side of
the boy’s head towards Hakoda, squashing his thin face in the process. Hakoda stared. A
bleary and furious looking yellow eye scowled back at him.

Oh. Hakoda could see why that could be an issue for a fanatic like Rakuq or Yao. That eerie
shade of gold made violent, repulsed feelings stir in his own gut too.

Shen growled angrily. “Like I told you before, Rakuq, that colour isn’t exclusive to the Fire
Nation, not anymore. He could be mixed, he could be from the colonies. We don’t murder
civilians out of hand because their eyes are the wrong colour!”

“The fact he was being attacked by the Fire Nation does put a point in his favour,” Bato said.
The voice of reason. Spirits knew they needed one. “Not to mention the scar. They don’t
usually set fire to their own children, just ours.”

The child in question took his captors’ momentary lack of focus as an opportunity to try to
headbutt him. As he barely came up to the top of Rakuq’s shoulder it had little effect, so
instead he attempted to stomp repeatedly on Rakuq’s booted foot with a bare heel. Rakuq
tried to move out of the way, but the kid followed and kept going. It didn’t look like he had
much strength in him, but the determination was impressive.

Shen snorted, a wry, lopsided smile tugging his lips. “What did I say? A little pigmy puma.
Wiggled his way off the ostrich-horse twice on the way here, snarling and kicking the whole
time.”

The boy spat at him, still struggling in Rakuq’s hold.

It occurred to Hakoda that he was probably scared out of his mind, being tied up and
surrounded by soldiers. Shen had likely been correct in his assumption that the boy was too
distressed to tell friend from foe, especially given the manhandling he had been subjected to.

Hakoda stepped forward. “Hey, kid, look at me,” he said in his best Dad voice. The boy
swivelled his ugly eyes towards him, trying and mostly failing to focus. He was in a bad way,
as well as the beating he had obviously suffered, he looked sick from the pallor of his skin
under the bruises. “Let him go,” Hakoda told Rakuq.

The man looked like he was going to object, but then seemed to realise how ridiculous it was
to appear threatened by a scrawny, beat up brat who could barely stay on his feet.

Once standing under his own power, the kid swayed alarmingly. Perhaps that had not been
the best idea. “Do you have a name?” Hakoda asked, keeping the authority in his voice, but
pitching it a little higher, softer and less threatening.

The kid glared at each of them, firmed his jaw, and straightened his spine to reach his full
height, which was still rather on the short side. His throat worked, like he was trying to
remember how to speak. “My name is Zu…” he croaked, then frowned and grimaced. “...Li,”
he finished.

“Zuli?”

Zuli’s jaw clenched. “Just Li. Li son of...er..Li. Not a boulder. That’s stupid,” he slurred
nonsensically. His gaze wandered off to the side for a moment, blinking rapidly, like he was
trying to remember where he was.

“I’m Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe,” Hakoda offered, keeping his tone even and
friendly.

That got an unexpected reaction. The kid jerked and turned wide eyes to him, this time
seemingly actually taking in the people around him.

“Chief Hakoda?” He clearly recognised the name, which was intriguing, and a little
worrying. The boy scowled at him. The scar and the bruises made it look grotesque and gave
the expression a certain ferocity, even though he was wobbling where he stood. “You’re here?
Why’re you going north? Supposed to be east.” He swayed a bit while Hakoda tried to figure
out what he was talking about. East? They had been heading that way along the coast until
they had turned north into the Eastern Sea. All the men surrounding him were now extremely
interested. How did this brat have information about their movements? Was he just guessing,
or were his ramblings more than coincidental?

“What do you mean?” Hakoda asked him, putting a little more edge in his voice.

Zuli blinked at him. “You were so close. Do you hate your son too?”

The words shot ice and fire through Hakoda’s veins. “My son? What do you know about my
son?” he demanded, taking a step forward, and fully intending to shake the answers out of the
boy if he had to. Zuli’s eyes widened, in fear this time Hakoda realised distantly. He reached
for him, and the kid leapt backwards like a startled cat, but the movement was uncoordinated
and he crashed into Rakuq, nearly sending the man to the ground. Rakuq grunted in fury and
backhanded him to the floor.

He didn’t get up.

“Chief Rakuq!” Shen reprimanded as he crouched next to the kid to check his pulse. He lifted
the lid on his unburnt eye. “He’s unconscious.”

Rakuq sneered at him. “The boy’s hotter than the fucking sun, he’s a firebender.”

“He’s got a fever,” Shen snarled back at him. “Even benders don’t run this hot. He’s sick.” He
left the ‘you moron’ out of the sentence, but it was heavily implied in his tone.

Their words were washing over Hakoda, his mind was focussed to a white, burning point.
“Wake him up,” he demanded. He knew something. It wasn’t chance that he had said those
specific things. He may have been rambling, but he had recognised Hakoda’s name, had an
angry reaction to it. He knew something.

Shen shook his head. “I appreciate your urgency, Hakoda, but he’s ill. He’s not going to wake
at all if he is not treated.”

Hakoda opened his mouth to speak, although he had no idea what was going to come out. He
could feel fear and desperation rolling over him like a tide, mindless and urgent.

Bato put a hand on his arm, stopping the words. “Then take him to healer Panuk,” he said.

Yes. The healer. He had joined them on land, to help treat the various wounds and complaints
of the soldiers. The Earth Kingdom troops had their own of course, but Hakoda wanted his
man in charge of this. “I want him awake and talking. I don’t care who he is or what side he’s
on, he knows something about my son.”

Rakuq shook his head. “We don’t know that, it could be a ruse.”

Hakoda barely restrained himself from shouting at the man. “He knows something, and I will
find out what it is!”

Shen took out his knife and cut the bonds around the boy’s elbows, before he picked him up
carefully, holding him in his arms like he was carrying a sleeping child. The image hurt
Hakoda right down to his bones. He had the vivid, almost physical memory of carrying
Sokka like that, the first time he had been old enough to stay up with his elders after the
summer hunt, gathered round the fire telling stories. He had fallen asleep, face pushed against
the seam of Hakoda’s jacket, mouth hanging open like it always did when he slept. He had
carried him back to their home and tucked him in next to his sister. His heart had been full of
such unbelievable love looking at them both. Such fear and hope for their future. They were
why he had come here, to this foreign land, to fight this war. To give them that future. And
now, his daughter was who knew where, and his son was a prisoner of the enemy. The
memory tasted bitter. “I don’t care what it takes, get him awake, and get him talking,” he
said.

…………………..
Later, if Captain Shen was asked to pinpoint the exact moment his life started to go sideways
and tilt completely off its axis, it would probably be this one. Picking up a bruised and
battered bag of bones and carrying him to the healer’s tent.

There was an old saying that if you saved someone’s life, you became responsible for them.

Shen would have very much liked to hunt down whoever had coined that phrase and beat
them to death with his bare hands.

Hakoda’s healer’s tent was the biggest save for General Huang’s. It had enough space inside
to house many beds, to tend the wounded when necessary. At present it was empty. Apart
from the skirmish in the forest, they had seen little in the way of fighting over the past weeks,
and most ailments the healer dealt with were sore feet and stomach issues.

The healer, Panuk, was perhaps in his late fifties, grey-haired and sour faced. But despite his
countenance, he was a kind man and pleasant enough company. Shen liked him. He seemed
wise in matters beyond medicine, and while a pragmatist, he was compassionate. Something
many people lacked in war, especially after seeing combat, and Panuk had seen it and been
scarred by it. His whole right arm was a wizened twisting of flesh. The fire that had marked
him had taken all but two of his fingers, leaving behind only the stub of a thumb. He didn’t
need his hand to make his potions and poultices though, and he always had a ready amount of
people to help with more complicated bandaging. His harried assistant did surgeries under his
watchful gaze.

“Hakoda?” Panuk greeted them as they descended on his tent. His eyes went to the boy in
Shen’s arms and he opened the entrance flap without another word. Once inside, Shen lay the
kid on the bedroll as gently as he could. He looked very small and very battered.

“Panuk,” Hakoda said, his voice still sharp with fear and desperation. “This boy knows
something about Sokka, we have to get him awake and talking.”

“It might be a coincidence.” Shen felt the need to point out. He didn’t want Hakoda to get his
hopes up, and equally didn’t want this to upset the delicate peace the man had made with his
choices. He wasn’t sure himself what he thought. The kid’s words had sounded like a stream
of nonsense, perhaps some lucky guesses, and Shen would have taken it as such, if the boy
had not reacted to Hakoda’s name in that way.

“He knew about our movements,” Yao said, scowling at the slight figure sprawled on the
bedroll. “That is essential to get to the bottom of. We are supposed to be moving slowly and
carefully to avoid detection.”

Like three companies of men and a fleet of warships could go unnoticed. The man was a
moron. Shen kept the words between his teeth. He was interested to see if Hakoda punched
him though, he certainly looked like he might. Shen wasn’t sure if he would bother to step in
if he did.

“All of you out,” Panuk said. “Do your arguing elsewhere, while I tend to this poor boy.
When, if, he wakes, I will get you.”
“I need to know everything about him, any clues as to his identity, where he’s been, who hurt
him. I have to know, Panuk!” Hakoda said.

“And you will. I will treat him, without you breathing down my neck, and then we will
discuss my findings. I won’t ask again, all of you out.”

No one but the healer had the authority to order Hakoda around like that, and Shen respected
his gumption. May as well lead by example. He rose to his feet and made for the exit.

Outside, he scratched at the drying blood on his arm irritatedly.

“Once the healer is done, you might want to get some ointment for that,” Bato said as he
joined him in the late afternoon sun. “Human mouths are not the cleanest of places, and
there’s no telling where that boy has been.”

“Nowhere good.”

“That’s true enough.” Bato shook his head as they waited for Hakoda and Yao to be
forcefully ejected from the healer’s tent. “This is going to cause problems.”

“Yup,” Shen agreed. It sure was.

Yao stalked out first, angry and indignant. He ignored Bato and addressed Shen like he was
his superior and not his equal. “I want to know when he’s awake and talking. Any
information is to be passed onto me immediately,” he demanded, before sweeping off like the
pompous arse he was.

“Lovely man,” Bato commented dryly.

“He’s a joy to be around,” Shen agreed. Bato snorted.

Hakoda eventually joined them. He looked haunted and frantic. This situation was going to
explode in all their faces. Shen should have probably just left the boy to his fate. But, for
better or for worse, it just wasn’t in his nature. And now he had to deal with the
consequences. He had indirectly caused these problems, so he was going to have to work
damn hard to fix them. He was increasingly sure no matter what the kid said, even if he just
up and died without waking, Hakoda was going to throw caution to the wind and go after his
son. That was something that needed to be avoided at all costs. Shen just couldn’t figure out
what on earth he could say to prevent it. He had already exhausted all his arguments the last
time.

The war, this mission, it needed men like Hakoda; smart, determined and with enough love
and compassion for their men and their people that they didn’t end up burning villages to the
ground because of a rumour of collaboration. Shen had seen it before and had no desire to
ever see it again. Without Hakoda, someone like Rakuq would step up to lead the Water Tribe
fleet, and there would be no balancing force against Yao and Huang.

They waited in silence, each lost in the storm in their own heads. Shen suspected the other
two men’s thoughts were as dark and anxious as his own, although perhaps for different
reasons. He had an ally in Bato, he knew, but when it came down to it, Bato was Hakoda’s
man and would obey him.

It was going to be complicated. Shen really hated complicated.

Half an hour later, Panuk lifted the tent flat. He looked grim, and not surprised to find the
three of them crowded outside the entrance like a bunch of twitchy kids.

“Is he awake?” Hakoda asked. Still single minded in his fear.

“He is not. He’s very sick, Hakoda, although if we can get his temperature down and he
wakes enough to get some water into him I think he will live. I hope he will. But you will
have to wait for any information he may have to share.”

“What can you tell me now?” Hakoda asked, “There must be something that can shed some
light? Some evidence of who he is or where he’s been?”

Panuk sighed, his mouth thin and unhappy. He gestured for them to come inside.

Zuli was still unconscious. Laying under a thin sheet with a wet cloth draped over his
forehead, he looked even more like a waiflike child. Shen felt a little vindicated, more certain
he had done the right thing bringing him back to the camp. He hoped he had. It had opened
up the possibility of a complete breakdown in their mission, not to mention his concerns
about the level of interrogation the boy would have to endure when he woke. Assuming he
did.

Panuk knelt by the pallet and replaced the cold cloth on the kid’s head with a fresh one.
“There is not a great deal I can tell you about where he has been, or who exactly he is. What I
can tell you, I’m afraid you will not like, Hakoda. And you must stay calm. You will not help
Sokka, this boy or our people getting worked up.”

That did not sound good. “Lay it out for us then,” Shen said. Forestalling another outburst
from Hakoda. They may as well get it over with.

“Basic facts? I don’t have much. He could be anywhere from fourteen to eighteen, it’s hard to
tell with him in this state. If I were to guess I would put him somewhere in the middle.”

“Sokka’s age,” Hakoda said.

Panuk looked thin lipped and disturbed.

“Yes. It is also my belief that he has been held captive for some time.” He held up a hand to
cut off Hakoda’s next question. “During his captivity he has suffered some level of starvation,
as you can see from looking at him, but also from the condition of his skin and brittle
fingernails. I would also not be surprised if he was kept away from natural light.” He lifted
one of Zuli’s limp hands and turned it over, palm up. “You can see here, there is some
scarring on the wrist.” Under the blisters and the bruises there were the faint lines from what
had probably been manacles. “There are more recent marks too.” Panuk pointed to the red
around his arms where he had been bound.

“I did that,” Shen said. “He wouldn’t stop fighting me.” He shrugged. “I tied him around the
elbows because his wrists… well you can see.” He had been horrified at the sight of them
once he was done prying the kid’s teeth out of his forearm. He had hung on like a damn
ferret.

Panuk nodded. “He has clearly escaped from wherever he was being held. His feet are cut
and bruised. I would think he had been running or walking through the woods for a day or
so.”

A few days. If, and it was a big if, he had been held along with Hakoda’s boy, that meant they
were close.

“What else?” Hakoda was a single minded force of nature. And Shen began mentally
preparing himself for the battle ahead. If the kid woke, and if he had somehow escaped from
the same place Sokka was imprisoned, there would be no stopping Hakoda. And Shen would
have to play fast and loose to keep the man alive if he tried to leave. He hadn’t been lying
when he said he would help him, but he had also been counting on Hakoda seeing sense and
doing the right thing. This was going to change matters, and he suspected that sense was
going to go right out the window along with all their careful planning.

Panuk still had one of the boy’s hands in his own, and ran a ruined finger over the kid’s palm.
“He has faded calluses on both hands. Hard to tell if it’s from weapons or work tools. Given
his age and the fact both hands have the same level of callusing, perhaps menial tools would
be the better guess.”

“Any clue why they would be holding him?” Shen asked. “If he’s a farmer’s son who
annoyed them, why not beat him and leave him to die? That’s what they usually do. Why
keep him?”

Panuk made a face again and glanced at Hakoda briefly. “I don’t know. I know there is some
concern about his heritage, and I have nothing to offer you on that. He could be Fire or Earth,
or most likely a mix of the two. I think his hair has been cut the same way Sokka’s was, he
has a longer patch at the back, which might have been the base of a ponytail. But that doesn’t
really help differentiate where he is from. I can tell you that the burn on his face is a few
years old. It was a very serious injury, and a very...direct one. If I was to guess, I would say
that it was not a glancing blow during a raid. The flame was held long enough to melt flesh.
He’s lucky he kept the eye at all, although I doubt if he can see out of it.” Panuk held his
hand over the scarred area to demonstrate the action that had burned him.

Shen felt familiar anger stir in his guts. “That would have happened when he was just a little
kid,” he said. He was never exactly shocked at how low the Fire Nation could go when
dealing with civilians, but he was always filled with disgust and hate by it. It brought back a
lot of very unpleasant memories.

“What about current injuries from his captivity? There has to be something here that can give
us some clues,” Bato said. He had remained calm, but there was something in his stiff posture
that indicated he was as furious as the rest of them, and probably full of the same fear as
Hakoda. Shen was not entirely sure of the nature of the relationship between the two men,
and it didn’t seem polite to ask, but it was clear that there was a deep affection between them
that extended to Hakoda’s children.

“There is evidence of torture, and he has received several beatings,” Panuk said, his face
tight. “Help me lift him.” Bato stepped forward to assist Panuk to tilt Zuli to the side slightly,
holding him easily in his big hands and revealing the scabs and scars on the boy’s back.

“Is that a bite mark?” Hakoda said faintly.

Panuk sighed. He looked like he was steeling himself for an explosion. “Yes. There is another
on his inner thigh.”

Well, that painted a certain picture. It made Shen’s blood boil with anger. He glanced at
Hakoda, the man was pale and his breathing had become a little uneven.

Panuk pursed his lips, gesturing for Bato to lay the boy back down and replacing the cool
cloth on his head before he spoke further. “Due to the suggestive nature of those injuries, I
did a more intimate examination. I can say with certainty that this boy was subjected to a
violent and sustained assault. Possibly by more than one person, perhaps the same one over a
course of a day or so.”

No wonder Panuk had looked so reluctant to reveal these things to Hakoda. Shen glanced at
him, he had gone pale, and it was obvious what he was thinking; Sokka was the same age as
Zuli, if the person holding them had an unsavoury interest in boys, then the outlook was not
good.

“Hakoda, there is no evidence the men that did this are holding your son,” Shen said, hoping
to inject a little reason, as pointless as it probably was. “Even if they do know each other,
they could have met before he was taken captive. They could have met months ago, it doesn’t
mean anything.” He wasn’t sure if Hakoda was listening. He looked like he was going to
vomit.

“I can give you two further pieces of information that might be of use,” Panuk said. Shen
wasn’t sure he wanted to hear them.

“Go on,” Bato said, when it didn’t seem Hakoda could get his words out.

“Firstly, there is no scarring. This was not abuse over the course of his captivity. I would say
it was a single event, although it may have lasted for some time. To me that indicates that it is
possible it was part of the torture, or a punishment, not necessarily the work of a predator
with…specific tastes.”

That could be a good sign for the other boy, Shen hoped it was. “And the second thing?” he
asked.

“The perpetrator, or at least one of them, was most likely a firebender.” Panuk tugged the
sheet down to reveal nasty, blistered burns on the kid’s scrawny hips. They were red and
looked infected.

Of course it was a firebender. Shen hated them, he hated them so much it felt like he had fire
in his own veins. Who would do something like this to a kid? What kind of cowardly animal?
He didn’t tolerate even a sniff of that shit in his company. Any proven reports of any
interfering with civilians in this way were punished with the utmost harshness. He had
executed men for doing less than what this boy had been through. Shen was strict, and his
troops knew that before they joined. They respected him for it, and he was proud of them.
Other regiments were not always so decent, and Shen let his feelings about that be known
with considerable volume at every opportunity. There was no point earning their freedom
from the Fire Nation by becoming exactly like them.

“I’m going to be sick,” Hakoda said faintly. “Get him conscious, Panuk. I need to know, I
have to know.”

“I will, Hakoda. Go get some air, he will sleep for a while yet. I will come get you the second
he wakes,” Panuk said.

The atmosphere felt less intense and fraught with grief once Hakoda had taken his leave. But
there was still a heavy weight in Shen’s gut as he looked at the boy. He hadn’t moved, he
barely looked like he was breathing.

“I’ll need a little help to get him properly bandaged,” Panuk said, as Shen was about to
follow the other men out.

“Of course.” He knelt by the pallet and held the kid up while Panuk applied more ointment
and wrapped the bandages expertly, despite the lack of fingers.

“What kind of person does something like this to a child?” He said. “I doubt he’s even old
enough to fight at the front.”

Panuk shook his head. The answer was obvious.

Shen looked at the boy, skinny and frail, and remembered the desperate fight in him. He
hadn’t enjoyed being chewed on, but he liked to think that determination and strength was
still in him and would get him through his illness. Poor brat was going to have a long road to
recovery, but perhaps he could find a place here, if there was anything left after Hakoda and
Yao got through questioning him. “Let’s find him some clothes,” he said, getting to his feet
stiffly, knees creaking. Thirty-four years old and he already felt like an old man. “He
shouldn’t wake up naked in a strange camp, surrounded by soldiers. He’s going to be scared
enough as it is.”

Panuk nodded. “Very thoughtful. I have a gown and some loose pants for my patients,
stashed in the chest over there. Although they won’t fit well.” He pointed, and Shen dutifully
fetched them.

Shen dressed the kid as carefully as he could and tugged the sheet back up over his chest. He
hadn’t even twitched during the entire ordeal.
“If I may say, Captain Shen,” Panuk said, washing his hands at the basin. “You seem less
keen to write the boy off as Fire Nation than the rest of your compatriots.” He was looking at
him with a certain amount of speculative interest. “I also noticed, you have more than a few
men in your troop with certain…characteristics that might mark them as being of mixed
heritage. Most captains wouldn’t accept them.”

Shen shrugged uncomfortably. It was something that caused friction among the different
companies, and he had broken up more than a few fights regarding it. “They aren’t wanted by
either side. The Fire Nation looks down on them, the Earth Kingdom doesn’t trust them. I
don’t think they should be held accountable for their father’s sins or the pain of their
mothers.” He shrugged again, familiar anger stirring under his skin. “Every time the Fire
Nation advances, it leaves a wake of these children in its path.”

“If you don’t mind me saying, your anger sounds very personal.” He gave Shen another long,
considering glance. It held both sympathy and something that might have been approval.
“You?”

Shen shook his head. “My brother. Fathered during a raid. My village wanted to forget, move
on. But when my mother refused to get rid of the child, they turned against us. We left,
started again. My family hoped they could pass the baby off as my father’s, but we couldn’t
escape from it. His eyes were not as obvious as Zuli here, but they were obvious enough.”

“Your father accepted the child?”

“He did. It was hard for him before Shuo was born. But after…a baby is a baby, weak and
helpless and in need of nurture and love no matter where it’s from or how it came to be in the
world. He loved my brother.”

“Be that as it may, not all people would choose that option, and in the circumstances, I
couldn’t judge them for it. But he sounds like a good man.”

“He is.”

“You think Zuli is like your brother, then?” Panuk asked. He began to sort his little vials of
herbs and ointments, preparing something that smelled medicinal and unpleasant.

“It’s most likely, don’t you think? Given the evidence.”

Panuk nodded. “Come and let me tend your arm.”

Shen obediently held out his hand, and the healer began washing the bites before slathering
the astringent smelling ointment onto them.

“He got you good,” Panuk said.

“Yeah, vicious little fucker. Not that I blame him, considering.”

“Hmm’” Panuk agreed. “The name sounds a little suspicious, though?” he questioned after a
moment.
Shen snorted. “If Zuli, or even Li, is his real name I’ll eat my boots. I’m pretty sure it’s a
girl’s name for a start, although it might be unisex in the colonies.”

Panuk chuckled. “Well, that’s true, but you would have thought he would have gone for
something less…incriminating sounding.”

“Perhaps, but you see a lot of mixed, and even Earth kids with Fire Nation names in the
colonies. People there have accepted their lot, some choose naming customs more in line
with the colonizers. They assimilate to survive. I’ve even met a couple of Ozai’s.” Shen
sneered to show what he thought of that.

“I am sure you are correct. Now, I will watch over him, and I will fetch you along with
Hakoda when the boy wakes.”

“You think he will?”

“He seems to be quite determined to live, the way he fought you, not to mention escaping
from captivity, and running all over the forest in the state he was in. I would give him a fair
chance to pull through.”

Shen sighed. “Good, it will not be easy to convince Yao and Huang to leave him be. They’ll
at least want to interrogate him, once Hakoda is done. But perhaps I can convince them to do
it in such a way it doesn’t cause too much harm.” He heaved himself up, suddenly tired to the
bone. He was not looking forward to that conversation, he was a soldier, not a politician.

Still, it was an argument he intended to win, so he may as well get started before the brat
woke up and complicated things.
 Chapter 4
Chapter Summary

He just wanted to hit Fire Nation soldiers with his sword, was that too much to ask?

Chapter Notes

Warnings: references to past non-con, references to torture

Many thanks to my beta burkesl17, who has managed to wrangle my dyslexic nonsense.
All mistakes are my own.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Shen tried to stop himself from scowling. He had to remain professional in front of the
general, even though he would much rather reach over and punch Yao in his sneering, smug
mouth.

“At the end of the day,” General Huang said, “What’s done is done. Captain Shen acted in
good faith. The question now is what to do with the boy? If he is of mixed heritage, then we
can hardly execute or imprison him.”

“If he is,” Yao said. “It’s far more likely he isn’t, or he’s from the colonies and they have sent
him to us as a spy.”

Shen took a deep breath and counted to ten before he spoke. “I have two objections to that
idea. One, if they were going to use a mixed blood kid as a spy, then I suspect they would
have chosen one that looked more Earth. If I had seen him on the street, I would have
assumed he was Fire. The only reason I am not making that assumption is that he was being
attacked by Fire Nation soldiers. And trust me, he was fighting them.”

Yao sneered some more. “Sounds like the perfect opportunity to set someone up as a spy.”

The tent walls felt too close, and the atmosphere was stifling. His temper already hanging on
by a thread, Shen stared Yao down. “Which brings me to my next point. The Fire Nation
brutalised that boy. He’s been starved, tortured and raped. I very much doubt they would go
so far to set up a cover story for a spy, especially not using a child who wouldn’t have the
training to withstand it. And, as I said before, they would not use a kid we would have
trouble trusting from his looks alone.”

“I wouldn’t put anything past them.”

“I agree to a certain extent, the Ashmakers are vicious and without honour or compassion.
However, they aren’t stupid. I Don’t think they would do such a piss-poor job at finding an
appropriate kid to use, or that they would go so far as to nearly kill him in the process.” Shen
leaned back and scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Besides, I think we are asking the wrong
questions.”

“Oh?” General Huang asked. He was clearly growing irritated by their squabbling.

“The woods are crawling with Fire Nation soldiers. They aren’t hunting for us. They’re doing
search patterns through the forest, the kind you might do on a manhunt, and they are not
being quiet about it. If they were looking for an army, that kind of blundering about would
get them killed.”

Huang leaned forward in his chair, leaning his elbows on the table and steepling his fingers.
“You think they were hunting this boy? Why?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” Shen said. He had them. Even Yao looked intrigued at the
potential possibilities. “We don’t know it’s anything to do with the war, but even if it isn’t, if
they want him, I am inclined to make sure they don’t get him.”

“I can’t argue with that,” Huang said. “However, he remains a risk. He has to be questioned,
and he has to be watched.” He looked thoughtful, his rough-hewn face taking on a calculating
expression. “The Water Tribe is not likely to let him out of their sight, not if they think he
might have information about the chief’s son.” He tapped a finger on the table. “Captain
Shen, you have done well integrating yourself with Hakoda. He trusts you.”

Shen nodded. It was true, and it wasn’t so much about integrating himself. He genuinely
liked the man, and Bato and Panuk and many of the other Water Tribe warriors in the camp.

Huang made a decisive gesture with one hand, looking pleased. Shen watched him with a
sinking feeling. “I am going to make the boy your responsibility. Keep an eye on him, and at
the same time, keep watch on Hakoda. He’s a sensible man, but if he thinks this boy might
lead him to his son…well, we can’t allow it to happen. He mustn’t fall into their hands. You
understand me, Captain?”

“I understand.” Shen really hoped Huang was not expecting him to stick a knife in Hakoda’s
ribs if he looked like he might make a run for it. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was going to
do if Hakoda decided to go after his son. Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that. He would have
to use everything he had to get through to him. But even so, the fact that he might be
persuading a father to leave his child to Zuli’s fate was something that made guilt and shame
squirm in his belly. Nothing had really changed though, if Hakoda went after Sokka, the most
likely outcome was that they would both be killed. And there would be a higher likelihood of
losing Ba Sing Se, which would be unacceptable.
He left the general’s tent, unsure of how well that had gone. He had at least persuaded them
that Zuli might not be a spy, but he had also lumbered himself with the kid, which he wasn’t
sure what to do with. Of course, it might not even matter, he might not make it through the
night. In the meantime, Shen probably had until tomorrow to come up with a way to persuade
Hakoda not to do anything stupid. But seeing that poor boy, he just didn’t know if he had the
words for it. He couldn’t blame Hakoda for his fear or desperation. He couldn’t even say if
their positions were reversed, that he wouldn’t be the one haring off to his death. It was going
to take a fucking miracle to figure out this tangle and make it work for all fractions.

He wished he could just get to his bed and scrub the memories of Zuli’s injuries from his
mind. Those and the fact Hakoda’s son could be suffering in the same way. But as it was, he
didn’t think he would do much sleeping, despite the exhaustion tugging at his limbs.

Besides, it was early yet, and he had work to do.

He checked in with his men first, settled a few arguments, and noted the supplies they were
missing. Hopefully, some of the armour and weapons they had taken off the Fire Nation
soldiers could be repurposed.

It was boring, menial stuff, and it failed to take his mind off the problem at hand. So, camp
tasks done, he set out to check the perimeter. It wasn’t something he had to do, but he liked
to, when time allowed. It helped ease the constant low-level anxiety that came with being
responsible for an entire company of men.

The forest was quiet away from the camp, and he walked carefully, trying not to make too
much noise, except when he approached the positions of the sentries. Getting shot full of
arrows by his own men was not on his agenda for the evening. But despite his caution, he
was distracted. Dealing with Hakoda tomorrow was going to be a cluster-fuck, and trying to
keep Yao from beating answers out of the boy was going to be an extra ball-ache, on top of
everything else.

“Excuse me? Um...Earth kingdom soldier guy?”

Shen managed to avoid jumping in surprise at the voice from behind him, and instead turned
smoothly, drawing his sword in the same motion. The action elicited a surprised, terrified
squeak from the speaker. Shen stared. It was a skinny teenage boy with twigs and leaves
stuck in his brown hair. His bare chest was covered in scratches and dried blood and his face
was filthy, smeared with dirt and sweat. For a moment, Shen was too shocked to react further.

The kid held up his hands, half in surrender, and half in defence. “Please don’t kill me! I
didn’t want to go right up to the camp in case someone squished me with a rock before
bothering to hear me out. I’m not Fire Nation I swear! Even though my pants are red, or they
were, they’re kind of brown now, I guess.” The kid’s blue eyes were enormous in his thin
face.

Shen blinked under the onslaught. What the fuck? What the fuck were the chances there
would be some other Water Tribe kid wandering these woods?

“Sokka?” he asked, his voice as shocked as his face must be.

The boy’s eyes widened, and he looked half ready to bolt, but he didn’t. Instead peering up at
Shen cautiously. Of course, someone knowing his name was probably quite unexpected, and
after whatever he had suffered, the lack of trust was a given. “You’re Sokka, Hakoda’s son,”
Shen said, still a little stunned by the answer to half his problems just falling into his lap.

Sokka looked even more ready to run, and Shen gave himself a mental shake. The poor kid
was almost in as much of a bad way as Zuli, and probably terrified. He sheathed his sword
and lifted his own hands as a sign of peace. “I know your father, he’s in the camp.” That
might not be enough if the kid had doubts about his honesty. “I know Bato, Rakuq and healer
Panuk, too. They’ve all been anxious about you.”

“My dad’s here?” Sokka swallowed. He looked like he was going to burst into tears and his
lips pressed together in a hard line, trying to hold it back.

“Yeah, he’s here.” Shen nodded back towards the camp. “I’ll take you to him. He’s been in a
bad way with worry. He’s going to be relieved to see you.”

The kid nodded jerkily. He still looked afraid, but his obvious exhaustion and desperation
seemed to be winning out.

“My name is Captain Shen, of the 54th Company.”

“Sokka, of the Southern Water Tribe,” the kid said unnecessarily. He shut his eyes for a
moment and took a deep breath. “Please can you take me to my father?”

Shen nodded, his own throat feeling a little tight.

When they entered the camp, Sokka kept close to him as people turned to stare in curiosity.
But it wasn’t until they saw the first blue-clad warrior that Sokka’s posture relaxed into a less
flighty one. When the first Water Tribe man caught sight of him in turn, he stood and a
muttering ran through the camp. Soldiers of all kinds were terrible gossips, and the news
would probably hit all corners of the encampment before they even found Hakoda amongst
his men.

Sokka didn’t stop to greet any of them, completely focused on finding his father, his eyes
running over each person he saw. Being a considerable amount taller than the boy and able to
see over the heads of a lot of the seated men, Shen spotted him first, sitting by the fire with
his head in his hands. Bato was by his side, a grim expression on his face.

“Hakoda!” Shen called. He could feel a smile try to work its way out, despite the
circumstances, to reunite the man with his son lifted his spirits. He would always feel guilty
for his part in keeping Hakoda from looking for Sokka, but he was also still very certain it
had been the right thing to do. “Found something of yours,” he called.

Bato spotted Sokka first. His eyes widened, and he lay a hand on Hakoda’s shoulder,
speaking a few quick words to him. Hakoda shot to his feet, his own eyes wide in shocked,
desperate hope.
Sokka finally saw his father and darted for him, running past the fires surrounded by startled
men and launching himself at his dad. He smacked into him with a thump and pressed his
face into his chest.

Hakoda looked stunned as his arms wrapped around him almost automaticity. “Sokka?” He
didn’t seem to have the words and his face was a picture of surprise, relief and confused pain.
It made Shen’s heart hurt and swell at the same time. But although the sight was joyous, it
was probably going to be more complicated than just a happy reunion. The poor kid had long
scars on his back, similar to Zuli. There was no doubt he had been through something awful.

Almost to illustrate that thought, Sokka let out a long, wordless wail, a sound so full of fear,
grief and distress it made all the hair on Shen’s arms stand on end. Hakoda, still holding his
son tightly, turned his body to shield him from view.

The boy’s pain was heart wrenching and Shen looked away, not willing to witness such a
private moment. Unfortunately, that left him to look at Yao, who was hurrying up on Shen’s
right. He was breathing a little hard, like he had just run all the way from his tent, where the
news had clearly spread at some speed.

“What’s this?” he asked, staring at the cluster of Water Tribe men that had encircled their
chief.

“Found Hakoda’s son in the woods,” Shen said. “Clearly Zuli wasn’t the only one who
escaped from captivity.” He wondered what had happened. Had the boys escaped together
and then become separated? Or had chosen to go their own ways?

“Fortuitous,” Yao said, with the edge of suspicion in his voice.

Shen rolled his eyes. “Yeah, it was. Are you going to suggest they turned Hakoda’s son?
Because I really wouldn’t do that if I were you. Not within his hearing, anyway.”

Yao scowled, unimpressed with the edge of mockery. Shen sighed.“Go report it to Huang,”
he told him. The self-important bastard would jump at the chance to be the one to give the
news to the general. He left the man standing in indecision and walked towards the Water
Tribe fires.

As he approached, Sokka pushed back from his father’s grasp, rubbing at his face and
smearing dirt and tears all over it. Hakoda’s cheeks were wet too, shining in the firelight.

“Sorry, sorry,” Sokka said, still scrubbing at his face in apparent embarrassment.

Hakoda reached for him again, like he needed to touch him to make sure he was really there.
“It’s okay, Sokka, there’s no shame in it. I’m so relieved, so glad you’re safe.”

Sokka wavered on his feet a little, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to just collapse into his
father’s arms or run and hide from all the people watching.

Shen took pity on him. “A bit of an unexpected windfall there,” he said.

Hakoda looked at him. “How? Where?” He asked, voice heavy with emotion.
“Can’t take any credit,” Shen told him. “He found me, nearly gave me a heart attack. Good
sneaking you have there, kid.”

“Not so much,” Sokka said, his voice still thick with tears. “You surprised me as much as I
surprised you. Figured I should just chance it. Didn’t think I could do another night out
there.” His eyes suddenly widened. “Dad! I forgot! I was following the soldiers because I was
looking for someone! A boy my age, black hair, big burn on his face, personality of a rabid
skunk-weasel. Have you seen him? Is he alive? Please tell me he’s alive.” He looked
distraught.

Hakoda smiled a little. “You mean Zuli?”

“Zuli?” Sokka blinked at him and then started to giggle a little hysterically. “Zuli? Seriously?
What a moron. Is he okay?”

“He’s here, but still very sick. Panuk has been looking after him.”

Sokka gasped in apparent relief. The shock of it made him wobble on his feet and he reached
out a hand to his father to steady himself. “Thank all the spirits above and below. I thought...I
thought they had…” He licked his lips. “Will he be alright? Can I see him?”

“Yes, yes of course you can, and you need to see the healer too.” Hakoda said, laying a hand
on his boney shoulder.

“Take him to Panuk,” Shen said. “I’ll speak to General Huang, let him know what’s going on.
And I’ll bring some broth for you, Sokka. You look like you may have missed a meal or
two.”

Sokka nodded, “Can we go now?” He glanced at the crowd that had formed. “I want to see
Li, Zuli.” He snorted again, a tiny smile on his lips.

Shen left them to it. No doubt this would create a fresh set of problems, and once again he
would have to mediate them.

He just wanted to hit Fire Nation soldiers with his sword, was that too much to ask?

Still, it was with a much lighter heart he went to go find the general.

……………………

Hakoda couldn’t gain control of his emotions. He was adrift in them. His complete despair,
the fear that had been clawing at his belly, was still clinging to him alongside the shock and
joy. Sokka was alive, he was free and Hakoda had held his son in his arms for the first time in
over two years.
But Sokka had clearly suffered horribly and the fear and fury was still coursing through
Hakoda’s blood, still ripping at his insides and churning his guts. Sokka was in the same sort
of state as Zuli, which was clearly not the other boy’s real name. He had been tortured and
starved and spirits knew what else. When Hakoda had hugged him, he had felt raised lines of
scar tissue on his back.

Panuk stepped out of the tent as they approached. He didn’t look surprised, although his eyes
were shining with joy. Rumour ran fast in this camp.

“Panuk!” Sokka yelled, dashing ahead. Hakoda got a good look at the long, deep marks on
his back and bile rose as bitter as the fury that almost whited out his vision. How dare they?
How fucking dare they?

“Panuk, is Li okay?” Sokka asked, anxiety raw in his voice.

“Sokka! I’m glad to see you!” Panuk said “Li is alive, but is still very sick. He has not
regained consciousness, although I think he might. His fever has not worsened since he
arrived and that gives me hope.”

“Can I?” Sokka said, gesturing to the tent, and then disappeared inside without waiting for an
answer.

Hakoda strode after him but was brought up short by Panuk’s hand on his chest. “Nice and
easy, Hakoda, don’t rush him or get upset, no matter what is revealed. He’s likely to be
traumatized, and he needs you to be steady and safe.”

“I understand,” Hakoda said, and steeled himself before lifting the tent flap. Inside, Sokka
was on his knees next to his friend, a hand on his throat checking his pulse. They both looked
very small, and Hakoda had to swallow down another rush of anger. Panuk was right, his son
needed him to be calm.

Sokka reached out and touched Zuli’s face. “Will he be okay?” he asked again.

Panuk wet a fresh cloth and dabbed at Zuli’s skin, tugging down the sheet to wet his chest
with the cool water. “I can’t promise that, but I believe he will pull through. His body has
been pushed to its limits, but he is stable for now.”

“He has an infection?”

“Yes, the burns, I suspect. With both starvation and stress it would have made him more
susceptible.”

Sokka nodded, still looking at his friend’s sleeping face. “On the boat we had salve. Li kept
my injuries clean, but after, we didn’t have enough between the two of us.”

“Come, have some water.” Panuk handed Sokka a cup, and he drank it greedily. “Slowly,
brat,” he said affectionately. Sokka nodded and drew the cup away from his mouth with
obvious reluctance.
Hakoda didn’t think Sokka would want to leave Zuli’s sick bed, so he sat on the floor beside
him and breathed deep and slow. Bato joined him, giving them a respectable space, but
Hakoda thought he was also just drinking in the sight of Sokka alive.

Sokka dug his friend’s hand out from under the blankets and gave it a squeeze. He left his
fingers resting against Zuli’s bandaged wrist, still feeling for his pulse, reassuring himself. It
nearly broke Hakoda’s heart.

Panuk joined them, bringing a collection of salves, ointments, bandages and cloths. “You
seem to have a fair few superficial injuries. Perhaps I can begin by washing them?” he asked
gently.

“Okay.”

Panuk reached out and plucked a few twigs out of Sokka’s hair, before he knelt beside him,
and carefully started to clean the scratches and cuts covering his back and body. Under the
dirt, Sokka looked pale and drawn, but most of his visible injuries seemed minor.

“After these, I will look at any of your more serious hurts, even the healed ones.”

“My arms are the worst,” Sokka said. “They’re...er...burnt, under the bandages. I haven’t
changed the dressing since the first morning we escaped. It’s probably a mess.”

Panuk nodded. “Sokka, I am going to ask you some delicate questions. Do you want your
father and Bato to leave?”

Sokka looked a little perplexed and shook his head. “No, it’s fine, they can stay.”

“Are you sure? They will be personal questions, and I need you to answer me honestly. If you
would rather they leave, I am sure they will.”

“No, it’s fine.”

Hakoda was pleased that he would not have to step out of the tent, he didn’t want to let Sokka
out of his sight for a moment, even though he knew seeing his son’s wounds, and hearing
about what happened was going to be like being stabbed in the heart. He settled himself and
breathed.

Panuk put the soiled cloth to the side and carefully began to apply salve. “Very well. I need to
ask you if you were hurt in the same way as Zuli was. It’s important you are honest with me,
and that if you were, we treat those injuries. Do you understand?”

Sokka jerked. He looked momentarily shocked, and then stared at Panuk with a complicated
expression that involved guilt and horror. “Oh,” he said. And took some deep breaths. It was
clear despite Panuk trying to pave the way, he had not expected that question. Hakoda felt the
fear swell again. “I wasn’t, '' Sokka said at last. “It was just him, I wasn’t.”

Panuk looked into his face and seemed to accept this as truth. He nodded and continued to
apply the smelly ointment. Sokka shut his eyes tight, struggling to control his breathing, the
corners of his mouth turned down.
Hakoda felt a rush of relief. That was one thing his son hadn’t suffered at least, but the
expression of grief on his face was an indicator of how distressed he was over what had
happened to his friend. It occurred to Hakoda it might be even more than that, if they were
being held together, if it had been part of the torture, Sokka might have been present. He
might have been forced to witness it, and that would leave a different type of scar. The anger
in him rose again, a swelling tide, but he forced his face to remain calm.

“Okay, I will clean the burns while we get any other questions out of the way, and then you
must rest. The Earth Kingdom general will want to speak to you, I’m sure,” Panuk said.

Sokka nodded and Panuk unwrapped the dirty, crude bandages. The burns were horrific.
Some in lines, others laid on top of each other. They were going to scar badly. Hakoda had to
look away from the sight of them, but he heard Bato’s sharply indrawn breath.

“These look like they are healing, they were well cared for,” Panuk said with some surprise.

“Li cleaned and tended them for me when we were…there. He has had some personal
experience with burn care,” Sokka said, bitter and angry sounding. His eyes cut back towards
his friend and the terrible scar that covered half his face.

Still reluctant to look at the wounds on his son’s arms, Hakoda focused elsewhere. “Is there
anything we need to know urgently, while it’s just us here?” he asked as gently as he could.

Sokka looked at Zuli again, chewing his lip. “Listen, I won’t lie to you, and I will tell you
anything you ask about him and inform you of anything that comes up that might put us in
any additional danger. But they have taken everything from Li, and I mean everything. I don’t
want people to take anything else without his permission. I don’t want to tell you his story or
his name. If he wants to share those things, then it should be his choice.” He looked Hakoda
in the eye. “But if you ask, I will tell you. My loyalty is always to you, to the Tribe and to the
Avatar and what he is trying to achieve.”

Hakoda nodded solemnly. He was so proud of his son, so scared for him and so angry at what
had happened to him, he could barely sort through how to react. “Is there anything you are
holding back that will bring danger to us?” he asked.

Sokka pursed his lips, thinking hard. “We are the danger, or he is I guess. While he’s here,
they will try to get him back.”

“I see.” The obvious evasion made Hakoda a little uncomfortable, and he was itching with
curiosity, but he could accept it for the time being. “I am happy with that, but the Earth
Kingdom army folks will not be. They will question him, and you too. Try not to lie,
although obviously you can avoid their questions if you can. I would also suggest not
mentioning your connection to the Avatar. We have left that bit of information out.”

“You don’t trust them?”

“I trust them with the war effort, I don’t trust them with your best interests.”

Sokka nodded, just as somber. “Yeah, I know that feeling.”

They both fell silent as they heard Shen’s voice from outside the tent. “Hey Panuk, brought
some broth for your patient.”

Panuk glanced at Hakoda, who nodded. “Come in, Captain,” he called back, his voice warm.
Interesting that he seemed to like Shen so much. Hakoda wondered what they had found to
talk about.

The large man stooped through the tent flap. He had a cooking pot of broth in one hand and a
few dishes in the other. “How you feeling, Sokka?”

“Hungry,” Sokka said. His smile didn’t reach his eyes. He looked rightfully wary.

“I bet.” Shen handed Sokka a bowl and set the rest down. “Healer Panuk, how’s my little
pygmy puma?”

“He’s doing as well as can be expected. Will you sit and eat with us?”

Shen looked at Hakoda for permission before sitting next to Bato. The two big men took up a
lot of space and the tent felt suddenly a lot smaller. Hakoda didn’t really want the captain in
here now, it was obvious he was going to ask questions, and Hakoda didn’t want Sokka
stressed any more than necessary, but he also knew trying to stop it was pointless. At least
this way, it would be someone more sympathetic.

“Pygmy puma?” Sokka asked, with a raised eyebrow a small amount of good humour
returning to his face.

Bato smiled, only a little forced “Shen seems to have developed a habit of picking up lost
boys from the forest. He found Zuli too.”

“He give you any trouble?” Sokka said, his lips twitching again at the name.

Shen held up his bitten arm. The teeth marks were obvious on his tanned skin.

Sokka snorted. “That checks out.”

“The woods were crawling with Fire Nation scum,” Shen said. “I understand why they were
after you, but are they after him too? The soldiers I found seemed quite determined to hang
on to him, they put up quite a fight.”

It was a legitimate question, and an expected one. Despite Hakoda’s earlier words to Sokka,
there really wasn’t much he could do in the long run regarding the inevitable interrogation.
He would have to gauge Sokka’s reactions and decide if he should shut it down.

Sokka took a slow drink from his bowl, giving himself a moment to collect his thoughts.
“Yeah, they’re after him.”

“Why?” Shen asked bluntly.

“A few reasons. For one, he really pissed the admiral off, and the bastard doesn’t like to lose.
On top of that, he wants him dead, he needs him dead to stop himself being very embarrassed
and probably executed for lying to his superior officers.”

“About what?” Shen didn’t even bother to hide his curiosity, and to be honest, Hakoda was
interested in getting a few details, too.

“The admiral told them he had killed Li, but he didn’t, he…kept him instead.”

“I see. He kept him to hurt him, I presume?”

“Yeah,” Sokka said quietly, staring into his bowl of broth.

“Seems like a lot of hate to have for one scrawny brat,” Shen probed.

Sokka sighed and made a face. “Li told me a story about a man who swore a blood feud
against a woman who had humiliated him. He vowed to destroy her, her family, and
everything she loved. Although it didn’t work out so good for him in the end. That’s the
freaky level of obsession he has. He won’t stop until he has him, or kills him.”

“Who would start a blood feud with a fifteen-year-old?” Shen asked with a hint of
amusement.

“Well, firstly, he’s sixteen. Secondly, you haven’t met him.”

“The admiral?”

“No, Li. Give it five minutes when he’s got his strength back and you’ll probably start a
blood feud with him too.” Sokka had a look of deep affection on his face.

Shen chuckled, “Well, if his bark is half as bad as his bite, I can believe it.”

“Oh it is, trust me.” Sokka’s smile faded. “Are we safe here? I can imagine that your people
won’t be happy, given how he looks. But he won’t do anything to endanger them. Or at least,
he won’t bring any danger to them other than the risk his presence already brings.”

“You’re safe, Sokka. I won’t let them hurt him because of his…appearance.”

Hakoda eyed him carefully. “You have that authority?” he asked.

Shen slouched out of his stiff soldier’s posture a little. He looked rueful and resigned. “I think
I made a pretty good case for him not being a spy. But they more or less said he’s my
responsibility. I intend to take that seriously.” He straightened again and looked at Sokka
gravely. “With that in mind, I need to know as much information as I can in order to protect
him.”

Sokka’s eyes narrowed a little. He was clearly aware he was being manipulated. “I’ll tell you
what I can. I don’t want him being interrogated as soon as he wakes up. He’s been through
enough.” He looked fierce, like he was willing to fight his friend’s corner, no matter the
consequences. Sokka had always had a protective nature, but to see it like this wasn’t
something Hakoda was used to. He wondered if it was the passage of time that had caused
the changes he was seeing, or his experiences in captivity.
“I know,” Shen said, “I’m sorry. Neither of you needs this, but forewarned is forearmed, you
understand?” Despite Hakoda’s misgivings, he thought the man was sincere.

Sokka nodded. “I’m not going to give you his name, it’s irrelevant to the current situation,
and it’s his to share, not mine. But I’ll answer what I can.”

Shen nodded. “That’s fair enough. Are you up for some questions now?”

Sokka took another drink of his broth, eyes closed as he savoured it. “Yeah. And I’ll answer
your first one right away: His father is Fire Nation, and he takes after him in looks. It’s not a
happy family situation, as you can imagine.”

“Yeah, I figured as much. Okay, tell me about the men who were holding you.” Shen took a
drink of his own soup, seemingly relaxed and at ease.

Sokka, on the other hand, was as tense as a bowstring. “Admiral Zhao. He led the action at
the North Pole. He’s ambitious, calculating and without morals or decency. You can’t trust
anything he says.” Sokka’s voice was shaking with hatred. It was devastating to see just how
affected he was even thinking about the man. “His first lieutenant, Ro, does a lot of his…
dirty work. He enjoys it. He’s evil, even for the Fire Nation, he’s evil.” Sokka swallowed.

“Was it one of them that hurt Zuli?” It was clear from the look on Shen’s face what part of
the ‘hurt’ he meant.

Sokka scowled at the bowl in his hands. “Yeah. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You don’t need to go into any great detail, but it’s better I know, so I can explain before
General Huang talks to him.”

“Why is that important? Who cares who did it? It happened.”

“I know. I’m sorry I have to ask, but every bit of information we have about these men is
potentially useful. If either of them prey on young people specifically, then that’s something
we can use against them.”

Hakoda knew exactly what he meant. It was a sick reality that information like that could be
exploited, either by spreading rumours to mess up the admiral’s reputation, or even by setting
up some kind of honey trap. Spirits, but whatever the reason behind what he had done, he
deserved to be unceremoniously murdered and left for the vultures.

Sokka’s lips thinned, and it looked like his hands were shaking a little. It made another wave
of fury travel through Hakoda’s body. “I don’t think his age has anything to do with it, just
hate and violence. Zhao took him apart a bit at a time, then forced him into a position where
he could do what he did.” Sokka put his bowl down and clutched his hands in his lap. “Then
Ro took advantage of the situation behind Zhao’s back.” Sokka chewed his lip, eyes
narrowing. “Now that I think about it, I’m sure Ro will try to hide what he did. He will aim to
kill, not capture.” He shook his head. “That’s all I’m going to say about it.”
Shen nodded. “I’m sorry that happened to the two of you, and I’m sorry I had to ask. But that
information is important. To know there are possibly two fractions within the men looking for
you? That one is trying to hide something from the other? That’s useful.”

It was very useful, but Hakoda was filled with misgivings about how they might intend to
actually utilize that information. If Huang tried to use his son as bait, then he was going to
rue the fucking day. But Zuli had no such protections. He thought the kid's best chance of
coming out of this without an extra layer of trauma to deal with was probably Shen’s support,
and to achieve that, his obvious curiosity about the boy needed to be cultivated. Having
something resembling a useful plan lifted Hakoda’s spirits a little. He would help Sokka by
keeping his friend safe, it wasn’t much, but it was better than just wallowing in rage.

Sokka scrubbed his hands over his face. “Don’t ask him about it, okay? Don’t mention it. Tell
your general if he does I’ll make him regret it. I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone, I
promised.” He squeezed his eyes shut.

Panuk laid a scarred hand on Sokka’s shoulder. “You told us nothing we didn’t already know.
I had to treat him. His injuries made it clear what had happened.”

They sat quietly for a moment, waiting for Sokka to get control of himself. When he had, he
raised his eyes to meet Shen’s. “May as well ask the rest of your questions. I’m going to need
to sleep soon.”

“You don’t have to answer anything else, Sokka,” Hakoda told him.

“It’s fine. Ask.”

“How did you both end up on the ship?”

“I got caught in the fighting. I’m not a hundred percent clear how Li got captured, but as I
understand it he stabbed the admiral, and maybe attempted to fight a duel with him. He is a
lunatic who does things like that.”

Shen looked amused. Hakoda wondered if Sokka was following the same line of thinking he
was, that Shen was probably Zuli’s best chance. It was clear that he was entertained by the
picture that Sokka was building with his descriptions. Hakoda thought he was probably
exaggerating a little, but it was something that they could utilise to gain the man’s continued
interest.

“Any idea why he decided to try to fight him?” Shen asked.

“He fought him because they had history.”

“What history does Zuli have with a Fire Nation admiral?”

“What kind of history does anyone have with the Fire Nation?” Sokka shot back with a sneer.
“As far as I understand it, he first met him as a child, and the meeting was not a pleasant
one.”

“Did he…” Shen touched the left side of his face.

“No, I don’t think so, but I am pretty sure he was there when it happened. The hatred was
very mutual even before this...incident.”

Shen leaned back to look at the boy on the bed. He still hadn’t moved or stirred in his sleep.
“Why was Zuli there at all?” he asked.

Sokka gave Shen a calculating look from under his lashes. “He was at the North Pole for the
same reason I was. Because the Avatar was there.”

Shen’s hazel eyes widened slightly. “You met the Avatar?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you tell us anything about him?” Shen leaned forward, his sudden interest radiating off
him.

Sokka shrugged. “He’s a good person. But he’s young, inexperienced. He’s determined to end
the war, even if that means fighting the Fire Lord. But he’s only half trained.”

“Did you speak to him? Learn his plans at all?”

“Speak to him, yes, learn his plans – not so much. Or at least nothing that people don’t
already know. He will need an earthbending teacher, but that’s it, I’m afraid. I missed the part
of the battle where we won. I was already on the boat. But I understand there was a glowing
fish monster.”

“I had heard something to that effect, I assumed it was just a rumour.”

“Nope, I have it on good authority the glowing fish monster was real, and it splattered the
Fire Navy like a bug. As far as I know, it was something to do with the Avatar’s powers, but I
don’t know what. I missed it.”

“Having met him, do you believe he can defeat the Fire Lord?”

“Yes, but not yet, not without more training. I’m not a bender, I don’t really know how it
works, but he’s powerful. He is a master airbender and was learning waterbending in the
North Pole. Next is Earth.”

“Then Fire,” Shen said. “That one is going to present a problem. Can he win without it, do
you think?”

“I think,” Sokka said slowly and carefully, “That learning from a firebender is not impossible.
While I was traveling, I ran into people from the Fire Nation who did not support the war or
the Fire Lord. They may live quiet lives away from the chaos, but they are there.”

Shen looked sceptical. “Might be hard to find one of these people, I can’t imagine there are a
lot of them.”

“Yeah, there’s that I guess. I don’t believe in fate or destiny, but...” Sokka shrugged, and
glanced at his friend, checking if he had stirred at all. He was still and quiet, the same as he
had been an hour before. Sokka looked pensive.

“But?”

“But I have to admit sometimes the universe drops a surprise opportunity into your lap. And
from what I have seen, that sort of thing happens to the Avatar a fair bit. Just look at the
glowing fish monster.”

Shen chuckled. “I guess so.”

Hakoda was impressed and a little concerned by the ease with which Sokka was telling the
truth without actually telling it. The way he had used the Avatar to distract from the line of
questioning about Zuli was skilful. Hakoda was glad he could do it, but it was a little
worrying just how seamlessly he was directing and redirecting the questions and lying by
omission. He had a feeling it was not just the information on the Avatar he was controlling in
this way.

What was he hiding? And why?

“What was Zuli hoping to gain from meeting the Avatar?” Shen asked. It clearly wasn’t just
Hakoda who was aware there was something missing from the story.

“The Avatar is our best hope against the Fire Nation. Everyone has an opinion on that, how
best to direct or use it. Li is a stubborn, strong-willed bastard, he had his own plans. He’s
smart, but he doesn’t really think further than the next thing he’s going to do. He had only got
as far as ‘get to the Avatar,’ who knows what he would have done after that? Zhao got in the
way.”

Shen opened his mouth, but Hakoda had reached his limit. “That’s all for tonight, unless there
is something specific you need, Captain Shen. Sokka needs to sleep and to heal.”

Shen looked a little disappointed, but he didn’t argue. “Sokka, you are clearly a very brave
and clever young man. I am sorry to have questioned you so hard when you are in need of
rest. I am very glad to see you safe and well.” He bowed a little, still seated. “I will take my
leave. Sleep well.”

“Thank you, Captain Shen.”

Once Shen had left, Sokka sagged a little, looking small and young and exhausted.

“Sokka?” Hakoda asked gently.

“I want to sleep. Can I stay here? I want to keep an eye on Li.”

Hakoda really wanted him to sleep in his tent, so he could watch him, make sure he was
really there, and safe. But he was nearly a man, and he couldn’t bring himself to ask. “Of
course. We will make up another bed for you.” he said instead.

Sokka nodded, grateful. “Thanks dad.”

Later, Hakoda couldn’t settle. Bato’s rough snores were not as comforting as they usually
were. He kept thinking of the look of pain in his son’s eyes. The fear in the tension in his
body. That spirits cursed horrifying sound he had made when they had first been reunited.
The memory of it still made Hakoda’s breath catch in his throat.

He slid out of bed and out of the tent, not even bothering to throw on a shirt. He would just
check quickly to make sure Sokka was alright.

Panuk was still awake, sitting outside, wrapped in his cloak. He nodded to Hakoda, and lifted
a finger to his lips, but didn’t stop him from entering the tent, quiet on bare feet.

Sokka was not in the bedroll they had provided for him, he was sprawled next to Zuli,
sharing his pillow, mouth open and drooling a bit. The sight filled Hakoda with such a rush of
affection it was staggering. But he was also filled with enough anger and sorrow it nearly
took him to his knees. Sokka had one hand resting on his friend’s chest, over his heart, still
checking for proof of life, even in sleep. Hakoda hoped with everything he had that Zuli
would pull through. It was clear the bond between them was strong, and to lose his friend
after everything they had suffered would be unbearably cruel.

Panuk looked at him as he stepped out of the tent. “Sleep, Hakoda. I will watch them. They
are both strong boys, they will be alright.”

Hakoda wished he could convince himself of that.

………………..

Sokka woke suddenly, and for a moment he didn’t know where he was. His body ached, with
the familiar raw pain from exhausted muscles complaining. He realised there was something
on his face, and he tensed, his eyes flying open. Zuko’s golden right eye was staring directly
into his. Sokka blinked, startled. They were almost nose to nose, and Zuko’s fingers were on
his face, like he had reached out to touch him and lost the energy half way through the
motion and just let his hand drop. Although he was staring intently, there didn’t seem to be a
lot of recognition in his gaze. He looked confused and distressed.

“You okay, buddy?” Sokka asked, keeping his voice quiet.

The only reaction to his words was the furrowing of Zuko’s brow. But at least he was awake.
Sokka lifted his own hand, slowly so as not to startle him, and touched his cheek gently. “You
with me, Sunshine?”
There was no response to the nickname, so he was clearly not. “We’re safe, okay? I’m going
to sit up and get you some water.”

Zuko frowned again, blinking like a child waking from sleep. “Uncle?” he asked, in a tiny,
scratchy voice.

Sokka didn’t know how to respond to that, so he just leaned across him to pluck the cup of
water off the floor beside the bed. Getting Zuko to actually drink it was going to present a bit
of a logistical problem though. Sokka was going to have to get him into a more upright
position.

It took a bit of manoeuvring, perhaps more than his exhausted body was quite ready to deal
with, but Sokka managed to heave Zuko up enough he could slip in behind him, leaning him
back against his chest with his head resting against Sokka’s shoulder.

“Okay, buddy?” he asked, unsure if the manhandling had been a good idea. Zuko made a
distressed, confused noise, but didn’t complain or resist. He just lay limply against him. It
was honestly frightening to see him like this, so weak and unfocused. It was more upsetting
than when he had been getting sick in the forest, because even then he had been so… Zuko
about it. This was uncharted territory.

The fear was not helpful, so he would concentrate on practical things that would be useful.
Getting water into Zuko was the most important thing. He had been unconscious for more
than a day, and he was dangerously dehydrated. Nudging Zuko’s lolling head up a bit, he
tried to tip some water into his mouth, mostly dribbling it down his face. Just as Sokka was
beginning to panic about how he was going to make him drink, the cool liquid trickling over
his chin seemed to kick-start something in Zuko and his whole body got tense where it was
slumped against him.

Zuko’s hand shot out and grabbed Sokka’s where it was holding the cup, trying to force it to
his mouth. The tin mug clacked against his teeth as he tried to gulp the water down.

“Slowly! You need to take sips, just a bit at a time, there’s plenty!” Sokka said. Naturally
Zuko ignored him and kept trying to wrestle the cup from his hand. He was uncoordinated,
but somehow still strong enough to put up a fight. The water in the cup sloshed and splashed
all over them both before Sokka gave up and let go. Most of the water spilled over Zuko’s
face before he gulped the rest of it down. Dropping the cup when he was done and falling
back against Sokka’s chest, apparently exhausted by his efforts.

“Why do you never listen? You stubborn ass,” Sokka complained as water started to seep
through the thin shirt he was wearing. Zuko turned his head inward slightly, breathing heavily
over Sokka’s throat. It didn’t seem like a good idea to move him again, so Sokka resigned
himself to remaining in the slightly awkward position they were in. He wrapped his arms
around his friend as gently as he could.

“Don’t leave me,” Zuko muttered, low and desperate. Sokka thought he was still talking to
his uncle, but he held him a little tighter, anyway.
“I won’t, you big dope.” He rested his face into the soft, thick hair that seemed to be growing
straight up off the top of Zuko’s head like one of the fuzzy beasts he seemed so fond of. It felt
silky against his cheek and smelt like stale sweat and sickness, but under that, safe and
familiar. “I won’t leave you, it’s my turn to take care of you now, buddy.” Zuko’s breathing
deepened again with sleep. Sokka wished he could join him, if only to escape the anxiety that
was buzzing away under his skin.

Sokka awoke the second time, surprised he had fallen asleep and feeling a little squashed.
Once again, there were golden eyes staring right into his from only an inch away. This time
from above him. And this time there was a certain alertness to them.

“Sokka?” Zuko’s usually raspy voice was only a dry croak.

“Hey, buddy, welcome back,” Sokka said, relief flooding him. “You with me now?” Talking
was hard, as Zuko was lying completely on top of him like a bony blanket, and generating
heat like a furnace. But it wasn’t the hotness of fever, just normal Zuko warmth. “Your
fever’s broken!”

“Where are we?” Zuko slurred. He still seemed a little befuddled, but at least he knew who
Sokka was now, that was definitely progress.

“We’re safe.” Sokka was used to Zuko’s weird staring, but he was struggling a bit with it
being mere centimetres from his own face. Also, despite the considerable weight loss, Zuko
was heavy. “If you’re somewhat functional, do you think you could get off me?” Sokka
asked, with a bit of a wheeze.

Zuko looked perplexed before he glanced down at him and seemed to finally register the
situation. He tried to lever himself up, but his arms were too shaky, so he rolled to the side,
planting elbows and knees into very uncomfortable places and digging the sharp bony points
of his hips into Sokka’s body like little staby knives as he moved. He flopped back on to the
bed, shoulder brushing Sokka’s.

Not having a firebender radiating heat on top of him was a relief. Sokka only realised how
much he had been sweating when the cool air hit him, and he took a few deep breaths now he
could actually fill his lungs.

“Where are we? What’s happening?” Zuko asked again, blinking at the tent ceiling.

Sokka sort of wanted to ease into the whole saved by the Earth Kingdom army thing, but he
couldn’t figure out how to phrase it in a way that wouldn’t get an unfortunate reaction.
“We’re in my father’s camp,” he tried eventually. “Safe.”

“Not on a boat,” Zuko observed with some confusion.

“No, they’re traveling with an Earth Kingdom battalion. We’re in the camp.”
As predicted, this did not go down well and Zuko shot into a sitting position, tangling himself
in the blanket and almost planting himself back on top of Sokka. “That’s not safe!” he
insisted. Looking a little wild around the eyes.

Sokka shoved him back down, leaning a little of his weight on him to keep him there. “We
are. My dad won’t let anyone hurt us. Obviously the situation is delicate, but I’ve laid the
groundwork, okay?”

“Groundwork?”

“Yeah.” Sokka kept his voice low, just in case. “You are Li from the colonies, your father is
Fire Nation, and you are estranged from him. It is strongly implied your mother is Earth.
They are not going to kill you so long as they think you’re on their side.”

“I’m not.”

Sokka prayed for strength. “It is quite important that you don’t tell them that!” This was
going to be a nightmare. Zuko was a terrible liar and lacked anything that could be described
as a brain to mouth filter. It was a shame that he had spoken to them. If Sokka could have
somehow convinced them he was mute, everything would be a lot easier. “Just get your
strength back. We can work with this. I’m not going to let them hurt you. My dad won’t let
them. But we will have to play it carefully, okay?”

Zuko grunted unhappily.

“In the meantime, have a little broth and some more water.” Sokka sat up and passed him
another cup of water, and then one of cold broth. He helped him sit so he could drink without
spilling it all over his face, then forced him to lie down again. Zuko looked frustrated with his
weakness. Sokka wasn’t enjoying it either, but he couldn’t help worrying about what was
going to happen when he did get his strength back. Chaos and disaster, he suspected.

Zuko closed his eyes, he looked pained, and Sokka felt for him. This change in circumstances
wasn’t a comfort like it was for Sokka. This was just another set of people who wanted to kill
him.

And they would, if they ever found out what he was, let alone who he was. “We’re safe. Get
some sleep.” he said with more confidence than he felt.

He had laid the groundwork of a convincing story, but he felt uncomfortable lying to his dad.
Even if he hadn’t told any outright untruths, the picture he had painted was pretty far from
reality. Sokka wanted to believe he could trust his dad, that he would understand. He wished
he could.

But then, he had wanted to believe his dad would have been trying to rescue him, rather than
traveling in the opposite direction.

So he was just going to have to tie the truth up in a knot so complicated and tight not even
Zuko opening his mouth would be able to unravel it.
 No pressure then.

Chapter End Notes

Got a busy week, so might be a slightly longer wait for the next one – it is half written
though!
 Chapter 5
Chapter Summary

Huang smiled at them. It was not an altogether reassuring expression, he didn’t really
have a face that worked for smiling. It always looked a little like he was contemplating a
disembowelment.

Chapter Notes

Special thanks again to my wonderful beta reader Burkesl17 who managed to beta this
while full of plague. (Get better soon!)

Warnings for this chapter: References to medical issues associated with non-con, vague
references to war crimes and non-con.

Hakoda was not a morning person. Unfortunately, one of the many downsides of leading a
fleet was the need to be awake at the arse-crack of dawn to do inspections and speak to his
men. Having been to check on Sokka three times over the course of the night, Hakoda was
feeling a little rundown and operating on even less sleep than usual. The last time he had
snuck into the healer’s tent, Panuk had threatened him with bodily harm if he didn’t get a few
hours of actual shut-eye.

He was already planning to stick his head in the tent on his rounds, just to make sure his son
was still there, still alive, and his arrival had not just been a dream caused by sleep
deprivation.

He met with Capitan Shen in the area between the Earth and Water tents. By contrast, the
other man looked wide awake and full of energy. He had been a soldier for most of his adult
life and, as a consequence, was used to the stresses and early hours. He seemed to thrive on
it. After two-and-a-half years, Hakoda was still struggling.

“Morning, Hakoda, going to check in on the boys?” Shen asked. His hair was very orderly
and his uniform was spotless. Hakoda felt scruffy in comparison. He had almost forgotten to
put on his boots this morning and had forgotten to tame his hair. He realised he probably
looked like he had just rolled out of bed and possibly through a few bushes, but he resisted
the urge to tidy himself. No use drawing attention to his dishevelled state.

“Just going to look to see if they’re alright,” Hakoda said.

“Where’s Bato this morning?” Shen asked as he fell into step with him.

“Checking the ships.” Hakoda supposed now the risk of him running had passed, General
Huang might have less objection to him returning to his boat. It would be a relief to escape
from the stifling politics of the camp. But on the other hand, the general might not let Zuli go,
and if Zuli was staying in camp, Sokka would be staying in camp. And so would Hakoda. He
sighed.

“Let’s look in on the boys and then get you some tea,” Shen said with some amusement.
“You seem like you need something to wake you up.”

Hakoda grunted in acknowledgement. It had been a rough few weeks, he was entitled to feel
(and look) a little out of sorts.

The rest of Hakoda’s brain woke up quickly when he registered raised voices coming from
the direction of Panuk’s tent. He and Shen glanced at each other and quickened their pace
without needing to exchange a word.

Hakoda wasn’t sure what he was anticipating as they finally made it to the tent, perhaps Yao
or one of the other Earth Kingdom fanatics trying to get past the guard to cause trouble or
question the boys.

It was not.

Zuli was standing outside the tent staring down the guard. Every inch of him radiating
aggression. He seemed to be trying to physically dominate the much larger man with his
presence alone. The guard was looking at him with an expression that was half annoyed
exasperation and half confused panic. He clearly had not been expecting to have to deal with
being bullied by a half dead teenager who was holding up his oversized pants with one hand.

Hakoda had not been expecting that either, to be honest. “Is there a problem?” He asked as
they approached.

Zuli turned and looked them over in a way that was rather insulting, before transferring his
glare to Hakoda. It was both combative and disconcerting.

“Am I a prisoner?” He demanded, bristling like a bedraggled, angry kitten.

“No, the guard is there for your protection,” Hakoda told him, keeping his tone neutral,
despite the challenge in the boy’s gaze that in other circumstances would have warranted a
reprimand.

“Why won’t he let me leave then?”

“Where were you planning on going?” Shen asked, eyeing the boy’s bare feet sticking out
from under the overlong trouser legs. The kid was drowning in his borrowed clothes, and it
looked endearingly ridiculous.

Zuli flushed a little. “I have to take a piss. Unless you want me to go here?” He used two
fingers to point at a patch of ground dangerously close to the guard’s boots. “Because I will.”

Hakoda believed him. The boy was somehow managing to look threatening despite being
scrawny and sick enough a good sneeze might knock him over.

“You can pee,” Shen said, his lip twitching a little. “The guard probably wasn’t expecting you
to be awake and was unsure of his orders. The latrines are across camp, I can escort you, if
you like? Or you can use the woods if you prefer? Just don’t go beyond the tree line. There
are sentries a few meters out and they might shoot first and ask questions later.”

Zuli turned his ugly yellow gaze on Shen and looked him up and down. He didn’t seem
impressed. Actually, he looked like he was considering challenging him to a duel. Hakoda
was baffled. Despite his son’s words, he had somehow not been expecting this much
belligerence.

“Fine,” the kid said and stalked past the guard, glaring angrily. It was obvious he was trying
to walk upright and straight, and equally apparent it was hard going. He was clearly in some
considerable pain.

“Well, I don’t think Sokka was exaggerating the part about him having the personality of a
rabid skunk-weasel,” Shen said. But rather than being offended, he sounded amused, and his
lip was curled into a small, lopsided smile.

“Yeah, I was not expecting him to be awake, let alone menacing my men,” Hakoda sighed.
“Did you recognise his accent? Not one I’ve heard before.” It was clipped and sharp.

“Nope,” Shen said, “Got quite a distinctive voice. And some serious lungs on him, judging
from the volume he managed to reach only minutes out of his sickbed. I think this is going to
be an interesting day.”

“I would dearly like for it not to be,” Hakoda said with only a little whine in his voice. “I’ve
had enough interesting days recently, I just want some nice simple, boring ones.”

“Agreed. Now he’s awake, they’re going to want to speak to him.”

Hakoda watched the boy disappear into the trees. “I’m sure that will go well,” he said with a
certain amount of trepidation.

Zuli reappeared a few minutes later, still stiff legged and furious. He really did look like a
disgruntled cat, a pigmy puma was an appropriate description for him. He glared at them all
the way back into the tent.

“I have the suspicion that self-preservation is not a skill that boy excels at,” Shen said mildly.

“What tipped you off?” Hakoda rubbed his face. It was far too early for this shit.
A small commotion began in the tent, and Hakoda felt his adrenaline spike. But Shen held
out a hand to stop him charging in. “They’re not going to hurt each other, not after everything
they’ve been through. I’ve met people like Zuli, I’ve beenlike him. He’s in unfamiliar
territory, he’s been hurt and feels like he is surrounded by enemies—he’s scared. And
sometimes, when people get scared, they get aggressive.”

Hakoda nodded. “Best defence is attack?”

“Exactly. Confronting him isn’t going to help. Just stay calm and be steady.”

They waited for the angry voices to lower to furious whispers before entering. The boys were
both sitting on the bedroll, their heads bent together, having a heated discussion that involved
a lot of hand waving. Both of them fell silent and gave him near identical surprised, guilty
stares when he greeted them.

“Good morning. How are you feeling?” Hakoda asked.

“Yes! Good!” Sokka replied with a strained smile. He used his friend’s shoulder to push
himself to his feet. Zuli also got up, a little slower. He looked exhausted, like his trip to the
woods had really taken it out of him, but he was fighting not to show it. With Sokka there, he
seemed less like he was spoiling for a fight and more quietly watchful. He was still scowling.

“You’ve…er…met Li, I understand?” Sokka said ruefully. “Li, this is my father, Chief
Hakoda, and Captain Shen of the Earth Kingdom.”

“Hi,” Zuli said sullenly. He did not look happy to meet them.

“We were just discussing the possibility of breakfast, and um, what might happen next?”
Sokka was looking a little better after some sleep, but he was painfully thin and his hair was a
mess. Hakoda remembered the feel of the wolf-tail in his palm, the despair and the churning
fear. They could get the meat back on his bones and his hair would grow out. It was the
unseen hurts that were the primary concern now.

Shen smiled reassuringly. “Breakfast we can provide. Panuk says more broth to start, and
perhaps some rice. Your bodies need to get used to proper food again.”

“Sounds good to me.” Sokka’s face was full of forced cheer. There was anxiety and fatigue
lurking behind his gaze, though. “What do you think, Li?”

“Can I have a belt?”

“Sure, belt and breakfast, coming up,” Shen said. “Anything else you need?”

Zuli muttered something inaudible and Sokka elbowed him lightly in the gut.

“Nope, that’s all.” Sokka looked between them. “What happens next? Will the other Earth
Kingdom folks want to talk to us, or are we good?” he asked hopefully. Clearly Hakoda was
not the only one with concerns about Huang meeting Zuli and getting a face full of his
abrasive attitude.
“They will definitely want to speak to you, I’m afraid,” Shen said.

“What will they want to know?”

“Information about the men holding you, what they know about us. They will probably want
to question Zuli about his...” Shen looked like he was searching for a non-insulting way to
say what he meant. “...Heritage,” he settled on. “And also why the Fire Nation is hunting
you. We need to assess if we are in any sort of danger harbouring you.”

“You could just let me leave,” Zuli said. His voice was low and raspy sounding, and Hakoda
wasn’t sure if that was his normal speaking voice, or if sickness or being throttled a few days
ago that had caused it.

Sokka turned and scowled at him. “And just how far do you think you’ll get? You’re still sick
and starving and they are still out there, hunting. We stay, at least until we have our strength
back.”

That implied Sokka was planning to leave too at some point and it made Hakoda nervous. It
was bad enough his fourteen-year-old daughter was somewhere out there in the world. He
didn’t think he could cope if he lost track of Sokka again, too. Best not to mention it now,
though. They had enough on their plates without him acting overbearing and getting his son’s
back up.

“Breakfast first,” Shen said, “I will be back in a moment.” He shot Hakoda an amused glance
before he stepped out. At least someone was enjoying themselves.

“How are you really, Sokka?” Hakoda asked.

There was something wary in his son’s eyes and Hakoda didn’t like it, especially when it was
directed at him. After this day was over and the kids were more settled, he suspected he was
going to have to have a long talk with Sokka about the choices he had made. He was not
looking forward to it. How did you even start to explain something like that? How did you
even begin to ask for forgiveness?

“Tired. Worried,” Sokka admitted. “Are they going to let us stay?” He wobbled back down
onto the bedroll, pulling his knees up. Zuli remained standing, staring at Hakoda with an
unwavering challenge.

“Sit down, you idiot,” Sokka told his friend without turning to look at him. “Or are you going
to eat breakfast on your feet?”

Zuli made a face that was the angry version of a pout and sat with a bit of a thump, like his
legs had given out halfway down. He winced at the impact.

Hakoda pretended not to notice. “They will let you stay. If they don’t, I will move the pair of
you to my ship and they can fight their own damn battles,” he said decisively.

Sokka smiled. “Thank’s, dad.”

Zuli’s sour expression didn’t improve any.

Shen arrived back with bowls, food and a slightly smaller pair of pants for Zuli, along with
the requested belt. Both boys zeroed in on the food, watching intently as Shen dished out a
portion of rice and broth for them before he handed Sokka his bowl. “Eat it slowly. I know
you’re hungry, but if you wolf it down, it’s just going to come up again, okay?”

“Right, yeah,” Sokka said. The first spoonful of rice was in his mouth before he had even
finished speaking. Zuli snatched his bowl just as quick and began eating steadily, hunched
over like he was worried someone would try to take it off him.

The damage from their experiences was going to be lasting, and would take patience and time
to heal. Unfortunately, Hakoda wasn’t sure that time was something they were going to have
on their side.

Shen was watching them too. His face was passive, but Hakoda suspected he was having
similar thoughts. “When I was getting pants for Zuli, I realised you’re going to want boots.
I’m going to need to get an idea of the right size,” he said, gesturing in the vague direction of
Sokka’s folded legs.

“Boots,” Sokka said longingly, rice spilling out his mouth. His stint in Fire Nation custody
had not improved his table manners. He shuffled around, still eating, and stuck a bandaged
foot out towards Shen for inspection. After a moment, Zuli copied him.

“Thanks,” Shen said with a straight face, although his tone indicated amusement. “I will see
what I can do.”

“Hey, Li!” Sokka said, a genuine grin spreading across his face. “My feet are bigger than
yours!” he pointed gleefully.

Zuli glared as he tucked his foot back under himself and eyed the one Sokka was trying to
wave in his face. “So?”

“That means I’m going to be taller,” Sokka stated with complete certainty.

Zuli blinked at him, his face screwing up into an expression of disbelieving confusion.
“That’s puppies, Sokka! You’re just going to be a short person with huge feet.”

Sokka gasped dramatically. “Rude!”

“You’re an idiot.”

“I’m the idiot he says? I can list off all the stupid shit you have done since I’ve known you
and we will be here until sundown. Me, I do smart shit...” He glanced at Hakoda “...er...smart
stuff.”

Zuli was looking at him with a ferocious, furious expression, like he was one step away from
attacking. It made Hakoda’s hackles rise protectively. He didn’t like anyone looking at his
son like that, but Zuli’s golden eyes just made it worse. He glanced at Sokka, but he was still
grinning, the glare just bouncing off him, sloughing away like water off a duck’s back. He
looked entertained, almost proud of himself. Hakoda had to force calm and clarity, and think
through his instinctive reaction. Sokka and Zuli had built a relationship, this was something
familiar, perhaps comforting to them. He looked at Zuli’s face again, and now he was
searching for it, Hakoda thought he could perhaps detect exasperated affection under the
scowl.

“Except for being caught by the Fire Nation,” Zuli said, canting his head to look down his
nose in a rude and condescending way.

“Yes, except for that. And also maybe one or two other things that we won’t mention,” Sokka
agreed cheerfully, still grinning.

“You can mention them if you like.” Zuli’s face was devoid of expression, but there was
something in the tilt of his head that indicated humorous mockery.

Sokka tapped a finger to his chin. “No,” he offered, sticking out his tongue.

Shen was grinning a little too. “Come, Hakoda, let’s leave them to it. I’ll bring you boys
some boots, and then you should rest up a little. Hakoda will get you when the general is
ready.”

He was right, it was time for Hakoda to see to his responsibilities, and he needed to deal with
preparations for what to do if this meeting went horribly wrong.

The kids were still squabbling as he left, but his heart felt a little lighter.

Hakoda was tense when the time came, but there was no putting it off. He made his way to
the healer’s tent to collect the boys to take them to Huang. They both looked a little better,
and were dressed in more appropriate clothes. Sokka in blue, and Zuli in green and brown,
items cobbled together from an earth kingdom uniform. It did not make him look any less
Fire Nation, though.

The boys had dropped behind him as they walked, having a quiet, intense discussion. They
were keeping their voices down, but not quite low enough to escape Hakoda’s hearing.

“Just stay calm. Even if they’re arseholes and ask you difficult questions. Let me do the
talking when you can, alright?” Sokka said.

“I am not feeling very calm!” Zuli whispered back at a volume that probably carried to the
men on the other side of the camp and possibly the ships moored in the cove.

“Lower your voice!” Sokka ordered “I know you’re anxious, but use the meditation stuff your
uncle taught you, like you did in Zhao’s cabin. You did so well then.”

“Sokka, I nearly caused you to lose an eye.”

Nearly lost an eye? Hakoda almost stumbled but caught himself. He was going to personally
hunt this Zhao down and murder him with extreme prejudice, what was wrong with those
people?

“Yeah, but they were going to keep going to get that reaction out of you. They used things
they knew would hurt and upset you. These guys will just be shooting arrows in the dark,
okay? Stay calm. Let me field the questions where I can,” Sokka said.

The suspicion they were hiding something was clearly correct. And that something was about
Zuli. The trepidation in Hakoda’s stomach increased. He wasn’t sure whose side he was
supposed to be on here. Sokka’s, obviously. But if Zuli was hiding something dangerous, they
needed to know what it was. Sokka had been pretty up front about his friend’s heritage so he
didn’t think it was that — there was no point hiding the fact anyway, not looking the way he
did. But it was something.

He took a few deep breaths. He was done protecting the Earth Kingdom's interests, it was
Sokka’s best interests that were the most important thing now.

……………………

Hakoda looked a little harried when he ushered the boys into Huang’s tent. Shen couldn’t tell
if it was anxiety over the coming meeting, or the kids themselves that had put that particular
expression on his face.

Huang was seated at the head of the table, flanked by Shen and Yao on either side. Rakuq
was also in attendance, along with Captain Long from the 37th company. It didn’t look like a
friendly chat; it looked like what it was — an interrogation.

Both boys looked nervous. Sokka smiled and fidgeted, while Zuli sat straight as an arrow,
chin up and radiating defiance. Although this sort of challenge was not a good idea when
being questioned by a general, the ring of dark, ugly bruises around the kid’s throat served as
a reminder to the men of what he had been through, and perhaps allowed them to be more
forgiving than they might have been in other circumstances.

Huang smiled at them. It was not an altogether reassuring expression, he didn’t really have a
face that worked for smiling. It always looked a little like he was contemplating a
disembowelment.

Shen was annoyed to realise he was feeling anxious himself. He didn’t have a stake in this,
not like Hakoda, but he felt a level of responsibility for the boys, especially Zuli, who didn’t
have an advocate. And also a responsibility for finding them both, potentially drawing the
Fire Nation to their position and fucking up the mission they had been planning for months.

“Sokka, it is a pleasure to meet you, and to see you safe and well,” Huang said.
Sokka put his hands flat on the table to stop his twitching and nodded seriously “Thank you,
General Huang. And thank you for rescuing us.”

Huang turned his attention to Zuli, who looked like he was trying to keep his face relaxed.
The resulting expression made him look a little constipated. “And you are Zuli.”

“Li! It’s Li,” Zuli snapped at him.

Sokka dug an elbow into his ribs, and he took a slow breath. The poor kid was strung so tight
he was shaking. He was clearly intimidated, and his natural response was to lash out. Shen
was glad he had prepared the room first and let them know what to expect from him.

“Thank you for rescuing me,” he said stiffly.

“I understand you have been through quite an ordeal and I will try to be brief. We have
questions regarding your captivity, the man who was holding you, as well as other
interactions you have had with the Fire Nation.”

“Okay,” Sokka said. His eyes big and guileless. “But you want to know about Li too, don’t
you?”

He had gone right in for the tough questions, no doubt so he had a better chance of
controlling them and of not being taken by surprise. He was a smart kid, like his dad, and
worth monitoring.

“Yes,” Huang said amicably.

Sokka nodded, leaning forward slightly, confidently. “I’m sure Captain Shen told you the
basics. His father is Fire Nation. He can’t help that, he didn’t choose it.”

“Unfortunately, one thing you can never choose is the circumstances of your own birth,”
Huang agreed. “Perhaps we can hear from Li?”

“You can,” Zuli said. He looked like he was expecting to have to fight to the death rather than
answer simple questions.

“I know discussing these things can be painful, given how most of your kind are conceived,”
Huang began, with a staggering lack of delicacy. Shen held back a wince. ‘Your kind’
was...rude at best, not to mention bringing that up, he was personally aware of the guilt that
accompanied being the product of an atrocity committed against a loved one. His brother had
struggled with it his whole life, he had never been allowed to forget it. He had seen it every
time he looked at his own reflection. Shuo had focused and channelled his feelings of anger
and bitterness into fighting the Fire Nation with a belief and fervour that had gotten him
killed.

Zuli’s lips thinned and he was glaring, but at least he hadn’t verbally reacted.

“You and your father do not have a relationship?” Huang asked.

Zuli’s jaw tensed further, and his nostrils flared. He was obviously fighting against his
instinctive, aggressive reaction, and it was clearly not an easy question to answer. Shen felt
for him.

“No,” Zuli ground out after a moment.

Huang nodded, watching the kid with a shrewd gaze. “Have you ever been to the Fire
Nation?”

It was one of the simple questions Shen had suggested, something that would help reassure
the other men that he was who he said he was, so they could move on to more important
topics. Of course, it was only simple if Zuli answered in the expected way.

He did not.

“Yes,” he said, without missing a beat. Around the table, a few eyebrows rose. Sokka looked
towards the tent canopy like he was sending a prayer to the spirits.

“I’m not talking about the colonies,” Huang clarified.

“Nor am I. You asked if I have been to the Fire Nation. The answer is yes, what of it?”

“How long ago?” Shen asked, hoping to salvage his nice, easy transition. It was possible the
mother had been taken there, or had made the jump from the colonies to the mainland in an
effort to save her son from the prejudice he might be subjected to in the Earth Kingdom.
Although life was reportedly not good for colonials in the Fire Nation either, at least Zuli
would have been less likely to be murdered for the way he looked.

Zuli thought about it for a moment. “A few months ago,” he said eventually.

Sokka rubbed his temple with both hands. “Tell them what happened when you went to the
Fire Nation, Li,” he said, when it seemed his friend was not going to elaborate.

“I got arrested.”

Sokka made a frustrated noise. “And then what happened.”

“I escaped.”

“You want to explain a little more?” Sokka said.

Zuli jumped and turned to glare at him. Shen got the distinct impression that Sokka had just
pinched or poked him. “Zhao went after the Avatar, and I followed. To stop the Avatar from
being captured...by Zhao,” he said slowly and carefully, like he was focusing on each word.

“You met the Avatar?” Huang asked. Distraction achieved.

“Yes.”

“And?”
Zuli looked blank. “He’s twelve. And bald.”

Sokka sank down a little. He looked like he was torn between laughing and crying.

Huang seemed to be having a similar struggle, although less with the laughing. “You spoke to
him? What did you discuss?” he asked, apparently trying for patience.

“The Fire Nation.”

Although the general was getting frustrated by the short, non-answers, it was obvious that
was just how Zuli spoke under pressure, and it didn’t appear like he was deliberately leaving
things unclear. So Shen stepped in again. “Anything pertinent to his plans or the war?
Anything that could help us?”

“No.” Finally seeming to realise they were waiting for more, Zuli frowned. “When I spoke to
him properly, we didn’t talk about war, not really. We had escaped from Zhao, and I was hurt.
I had a concussion.” He pointed to his head to illustrate the injury. “He was babbling about
someone called Kuzon.”

“A general perhaps?” Yao said with interest.

“I don’t know. I had a head injury, I couldn’t even see straight. Then the Avatar left, and I
went to sleep. I’m sorry. I can’t be more helpful,” he said, like the words were being pulled
out of him under pain of death.

“Fair enough,” Huang said, although he was clearly unhappy at the lack of information. “I
understand you spoke to Captain Shen about the man who was holding you prisoner, but I
have a few further questions regarding your captivity. I will try to be brief.”

Sokka nodded, his mouth a thin tense line. He looked like he was bracing himself.

“The most relevant question is what do they know about our movements?” Huang asked.

“I assume they knew where you were, seeing as they were sending you letters? You got them,
didn’t you?” Sokka said, his face a grim mask and his posture almost as stiff as Zuli’s. This
was a subject that was going to touch on Hakoda’s impossible choice, and Shen didn’t think
he’d had a chance to really speak to his son about it.

Huang nodded. “They were received, but they were sent to a trading post and delivered to us
by our own men.”

Sokka sighed. “I don’t really know the answer. It was hardly something they shared with us.”

Interestingly, Zuli looked a little flustered and stressed at this line of questioning. He had
known what direction they had been heading, therefore he had clearly picked up on it from
their captors. But something about that was making him twitchy.

“Li,” Huang started, almost reluctantly, he obviously was not looking forward to trying to
painfully drag further information out of the boy.
“They were tracking you,” Zuli blurted. “I mean, I assume they were. They knew you were
close, just not exactly where. I don’t think they know where you’re going, though. So if you
turned aside, they might not know. I don’t know where you are going either.” He was
speaking fast, like he couldn’t get his words out quick enough enough, which was very
different to his previous stilted answers. Sokka was looking at him like he had sprouted an
extra head.

“How do you know that?”

Zuli took a few rapid breaths. “There were maps in his cabin, Zhao’s, on the table. Of the
coast and the Eastern Sea. I saw them, there were things marked out, but I don’t know what
they were. Any one of them could have been the fleet. I don’t think he knew about the Earth
army. He only had sea charts.”

“Can you remember them? Could you draw them on a map for us?”

“Maybe. Some of them.”

“Why were you in the admiral’s cabin?” Yao asked, squinting suspiciously at him.

Zuli’s face shuttered, all the emotion bled out of it and he stared at the tabletop, jaw clenched
shut.

Oh. That was where the anxiety was coming from, this was something he had seen during
one of his…less pleasant interactions with the admiral. “You don’t need to answer that, Zuli,”
Shen said. The kid didn’t even snap at him over the use of the name ‘Zuli’ so he was
obviously working hard to keep himself under control.

Sokka looked concerned too, and he scowled at Yao. “He said he would draw you anything
he remembers on the maps, that’s enough. That’s all the information we have about it. They
didn’t exactly chat to us about their plans, apart from things like threatening to send bits of
me to my father.”

Hakoda went a little pale. He looked almost as pained as Zuli did. That was a disaster just
waiting to happen. Shen was both glad he wouldn’t have to be there for that discussion, and
also guilty for being a part of persuading the man to have made the choices he had. After they
were done, he would speak to the kid and explain somewhat. Let him know the arguments he
had made and how much his father had struggled with it, see if he could take a little of the
blame onto himself.

It seemed that Huang had also deduced the reason for Zuli clamming up, and he nodded at
them. “I understand. We would be grateful if you could do that for us at a later time,” he said.
“We will turn to other matters now. There is something else we need to ask you about,
something your father brought up some time ago, Sokka.”

“Okay.” Sokka looked perplexed.

“I understand your tribe was attacked by a prince of the Fire Nation. We need all the
information you can give us on this man. If Ozai has put his son into the field, then it is clear
he is moving faster than we had hoped.”

Sokka’s eyes widened and Zuli’s head shot up from where he had been glaring at the table.
They both had the same panicked look on their faces. Which was a confusing and slightly
alarming reaction. Sokka schooled his expression quickly, his features taking on a mask of
casual interest. Zuli went back to staring at the table, but the tension in his body was so high
he looked like he was going to vibrate through the floor.

“Er... what do you want to know?” Sokka asked.

“Anything. All we have is that he’s a firebender and an arsehole,” Shen said. Watching them
carefully. Why was this the thing that had got that response?

Zuli made a small garbled noise without raising his eyes from the table. Shen couldn’t tell if
it was a laugh, an objection or something else.

“Anything you can tell us will be useful,” Huang cut in. His eyes were narrowed, the boy’s
reaction had not gone unnoticed.

Sokka smiled, it looked very fake. “Right, right, of course. Well, not much. He was chasing
us, and was...um, very tenacious. He had a ship, no idea what it was called.” Sokka tapped
his fingers on his knee, frowning in thought. “He attacked us on land as well though, he had
some monster things with horns that he used to travel and fight.”

“Why was he chasing you?”

“We annoyed him, I guess? And we were going to the North Pole, the same place the Avatar
was headed. The southern Water Tribe fleet, as small as we are, have caused them enough of
a headache, they were probably scared of what might happen if the north got involved in the
war.” He puffed up his skinny chest proudly as he spoke of his tribe.

“Hmm,” Huang said. “Can you describe his fighting techniques?”

“Um, loud and flamy? Aggressive?”

Yao leaned forward with great interest. “What was his name? What does he look like?
Perhaps we can track him, take him out before he comes into play again.”

“He was wearing one of those ugly helmets and full armour when he attacked our village,”
Sokka said with a shrug. “We weren’t paying that much attention—too busy running and
hiding.”

“Did you clash with him after the initial attack, or did you stay ahead of him? Perhaps if you
describe specific incidents?”

“Specific incidents? He burned down some villages, harassed some nuns. Tied my sister to a
tree once.”

“He did what?” Hakoda said, his eyes wide and furious.
Sokka looked at him, his own eyes getting big. He waved his hands as he tried to offer
reassurance. “We escaped without harm! There were pirates! And they started fighting the
soldiers, so we made a run for it.”

“Pirates?” Hakoda said faintly.

“That’s it really,” Sokka plowed on. “We ran, he followed.”

That was not a particularly satisfying description of events. Shen wondered if it was due to
trauma, had something worse happened that the boy wanted to avoid talking about? Or was
he being evasive on purpose? If so, it sounded panicked and lacked the skill he had shown
earlier in directing the conversation.

Huang looked thoughtful, probably having reached the same conclusion as Shen. There was,
of course, another avenue for information, both the boys had reacted strongly to this line of
questioning. “Did you meet this prince, Li?” he asked.

Zuli raised his eyes briefly, then lowered them again, staring intently at the table. “Yes, I did.
But he’s not an issue anymore. He’s…not any more. Gone.”

“Gone?”

“His ship blew up!” Sokka burst out suddenly. “That’s what you told me, right, Li?”

Zuli nodded rapidly. “Yeah. It blew up.”

“Blew up, how?” Huang asked. He seemed resigned by the return of the short answers.

Zuli sneaked a look at him. “Er… blasting jelly,” he said. His eyes flickering to the general
and away.

“And you know this because?”

They were definitely getting closer to an answer. Both boys were tense, like a pair of bow
strings. Whatever they were hiding had something to do with Ozai’s spawn, but what?

“I saw it.” This time Zuli looked Huang in the eye. “I saw it explode. There was nothing left
of the ship but scrap metal.” That had the ring of truth to it. Huang was no fool, he knew the
boys were being evasive, but also seemed to recognise that they were not actually lying to
him. He looked as bemused and as intrigued as Shen felt.

“Why were you there?” he asked directly.

“Er... I was…” The kid blinked rapidly, his eyes wandering briefly. It was slightly
embarrassing to watch him so obviously look for a lie. Beside him, Sokka looked exhausted.
Zuli swallowed visibly a few times. “I was…” He let out a breath, drew in another. Then he
straightened, decision apparently made. “I was looking for a ship to stow away on. I wanted
to go to the North Pole,” he said decisively, keeping eye contact with the general and without
any of the weird blinking and twitching. That was the truth. A good option to take, Huang
was not known for his patience, although he was doing his best to remain civil. Obvious
deception would have changed the tone of the interview considerably and it was clear the kid
was not a good liar.

“You were going to stow away on the prince’s ship before it mysteriously blew up?” Shen
asked, just to make sure he had the facts straight.

“No. Zhao was there. I stowed away on his ship.”

“You actually went through with it?” Huang asked with a raised eyebrow. How in the world
had he gotten away with that? He must have stolen armour and kept his face plate down at all
times. Not easy or very sensible, although it had clearly worked.

“Yes. That’s how I got to the North Pole.”

Sokka turned to look at him with a flat expression on his face. “You did not tell me that part,”
he said. “You lunatic.”

“How else was I supposed to get there?” Zuli snapped.

“I’m surprised you didn’t try to swim!” Sokka snapped back.

“It’s too far!”

Sokka waved his hands in exasperation. “And tiger seals can hold their breath for forty
minutes, that didn’t slow you down any!”

“Stop going on about that, it worked!”

“Boys,” Hakoda said, as it seemed they were just going to continue squabbling.

Tiger seals? Shen wished he could sit them both down and get a full account of everything
that had happened since the prince had invaded the South Pole, as well as the entirety of
Zuli’s story. He seemed to have lived an interesting life. Shen was sure it would be both
fascinating and very entertaining.

“So, you were in port to stow away on Admiral Zhao’s ship. And you saw the prince’s ship
blow up, correct?” Hakoda clarified. He still looked like he had not quite recovered from
Sokka’s throw away comment about his sister being tied to a tree by Ozai’s son. Could that
be it? Had something happened, and they were trying to save Hakoda the pain? It was an
option, but Shen didn’t think so, Sokka had glossed over it too easily, he didn’t have the same
sort of stress reactions talking about the prince as he did discussing the admiral who had held
them captive.

“Yes.”

“And you knew it was caused by blasting jelly, because...?” Hakoda asked.

Zuli looked momentarily stumped. “Um...lucky guess?”

Sokka rubbed the bridge of his nose. He looked like a man in physical pain.
Shen suddenly caught on to what Hakoda was asking, or at least, trying to figure out. It was a
ludicrous, dangerous thought. But now it was in his mind. He couldn’t shake it loose.

Zuli looked a little pale and unsteady. It wasn’t clear whether that was due to the tension and
lingering sickness, or if it was a reaction to this particular set of questions, ones that might be
getting a bit too close to what he was trying to cover up.

Sokka looked at him worriedly. “Are we done? At least for now?” he asked.

Huang appeared disappointed, but he also seemed to realise pushing them further at the
moment would probably not gain him anything but their mistrust. It was clear that the best
way to get to the bottom of the situation was probably going to be a slow and steady building
of a rapport. That way the boys would willingly open up. Shen was pretty sure the general
was going to ask him to be the one to try to build that relationship. May as well start now. He
glanced towards Huang before he spoke, making sure he had permission to cut the meeting
short. “Thank you both for your honesty. I think that will be enough for the time being. You
are both still recovering.”

Zuli was wobbling to his feet and heading for the door before Shen had finished speaking,
but Sokka looked at him gravely. “Can we stay in the camp?” he asked.

“Of course. It was never a question of making you leave, Sokka. Just of how significant the
danger was and how best to protect you and maintain the integrity of our mission.”

Sokka stood and bowed a little awkwardly to Huang. “Thank you for your hospitality,
General,” he said. Before he followed his friend out of the tent.

There was a long silence. Everyone was digesting the new information and perhaps
beginning to form some ideas of what sort of trouble they were looking at.

“So,” Hakoda said at last, leaning forward and running a hand over his face. “Does anyone
else have a notion about why the Fire Nation might want that boy so bad?”

“Yeah,” Shen said. “Yeah, I think I have the same terrible idea about that.” He could see
Huang had also reached the same conclusion from the pensive look on his face.

“Explain, Hakoda,” Rakuq demanded, his face was still set in a scowl. He was not convinced
of any of it. It was clear Zuli’s Fire Nation features were just too much for some of them to
overcome or overlook. It would take a great deal to integrate him in to the camp. But Shen
was going to have to try, in order to keep the kids safe from his own people, let alone the
fucking Fire Nation.

Hakoda looked tired. These past few weeks had been unbearably hard on him, and this past
hour had not helped. Despite his exhaustion, he looked at Rakuq directly as he spoke. “One
way he could have known about the blasting jelly, is if he put it there.”

Rakuq’s sky-blue eyes widened. “You’re suggesting that boy might have blown up the crown
prince of the Fire Nation?”
“Yup,” Hakoda said, popping the ‘P’ and slumping a little. Shen couldn’t help feeling the
same way. As happy as he was that Ozai’s son was probably no more than bits of goo being
eaten by fish, the unbelievable cluster-fuck having his murderer in their camp was going to
cause was…well, it was a lot.

“If that’s the case,” Rakuq said, catching on to the enormity of the problem. “If they even
suspect that’s what he did…they will stop at nothing to capture him.”

“Yeah,” Shen agreed. “And at the very least, they do suspect it. This would certainly explain
why they’re hunting for him so doggedly.”

Hakoda sighed. “It makes sense. And could also explain something else Sokka said; that
Admiral Zhao had to get Zuli back or see him dead, else he would face execution himself for
lying to his superior officers about killing the kid.” He shook his head. “It didn’t make sense
before, why would anyone care if he had executed some random brat? This makes things
clearer.”

“Why didn’t he?” Rakuq asked. “Why wouldn’t he have killed him as soon as he had the
chance?”

Hakoda’s face was grim. “Arrogance? A sadistic desire to punish him for slights he felt
against himself? Killing him was too quick, I think. Panuk examined the boy and painted a
very clear picture of what he went through. Sokka told me that Zuli and Zhao have a history.
He might have even been present when he was burned. He wanted him to suffer.”

Even Rakuq looked disgusted at the reminder of just how low these animals were willing to
go. “What would his motive have been? How did a teenager achieve such a thing?”

Shen shrugged. “He might have been connected to a rebel group, or it might have been as
simple as personal revenge. The kid has had unpleasant run-ins with the Fire Nation in the
past, you only have to look at his face to see that.”

“These details we can tease out of him,” Huang said. “The question is, what are we going to
do about it? If what we suspect is the truth, they will stop at nothing to get to him. That puts
us all in danger.”

“Even if we took him elsewhere, the danger would remain,” Shen said regretfully. “Either
they know we are here and our position will be reported, or, they will need to remove
everyone that knows he is alive. They are going to have to try and cover this up.”

Hakoda hummed thoughtfully, his clever eyes narrowed in thought. “The second option.
They are going to have to try to take us on themselves. One battleship’s worth of men. They
can’t report it. What if another battalion came to fight us? What if people who knew the truth
were taken prisoner and questioned? Or if the boy was captured by someone else? There’s no
hiding that face.”

“They can’t tell anyone,” Yao said, his eyes widening. “That could tip the balance
considerably.”
“Yes, it could.” Huang agreed, his craggy face creased in thought. “It could even be a
blessing in disguise,” he mused. Shen wasn’t sure if he liked the tone, or the speculative
gleam in Yao’s eyes. There were many ways they could use this to their advantage, and not
all of them would be fair or kind to the boy.

Even though this answered many, many of Shen’s questions about Zuli and his relationship
with the Fire Nation, it left one glaring one. Why had they tried to hide this? Murdering
Ozai’s offspring was not something anyone around this table would have any issue with, but
they had clearly been very reluctant to speak of it. Still had not actually admitted it. Zuli
clearly mistrusted them, which was probably an unfortunate consequence of growing up in
the colonies. People would not have been kind to him with those eyes. Perhaps that was all it
was, and he had sworn Sokka to reluctant secrecy.

That made some sense, but Shen couldn’t shake the feeling there was still a missing piece to
the puzzle.

………..

Sokka caught up with Zuko as he headed back to the healer’s tent at a determined pace.

“Well, that was something,” he said, as he fell into step.

Zuko whirled on him, moving so fast Sokka almost stumbled in surprise. “That was a
disaster!” He dug his palms into his eyes, leaning his body backwards like he had been hit by
a strong wind. “I think I’m going to be accused of my own murder!” he snarled. At least he
kept his voice down this time.

Sokka had almost forgotten how dramatic and animated Zuko was when he was wound up.
He was glad to see it back, the still quietness of his illness had been disturbing. “Yeah, that
was an interesting avenue for that conversation to have gone down,” he said. He was still a
little stunned at how it had turned out, but it had not been the disaster he had been
anticipating. That was apparently what life with Zuko was like, stuff just snowballed out of
control unexpectedly and completely at random.

“They must think I’m an idiot,” Zuko continued. “I was trying, okay? I was trying to stay
calm and not to say anything to fuck us over. But I just sounded like a moron.”

Sokka tramped down the smile trying to form on his face and patted Zuko’s shoulder
solemnly. “It’s okay, buddy. I know you can be eloquent and speak in full sentences when
you’re not under that much pressure, and they will see that too given a little time.” Also,
being seen as a bit odd was a lot better than being outed as a rogue firebending enemy prince.

Zuko gave him an annoyed look and started walking again. His gait was a little awkward and
slow compared to his usual graceful stalk, but Sokka still had to work to keep up with him.
“This murder thing could work in our favour,” Sokka said. “It explains a bunch of
unexplainable stuff. If they think they know what we’re hiding, then we might be in the clear.
Also, it’s got to endear you to some of those hard-nosed types. You might just become an
Earth Kingdom national hero!”

Zuko glared at him, one of his full force, evil stink-eye glares. Sokka was glad his bending
still didn’t seem to have returned, because he was pretty sure smoke would have been coming
out of his nose if it had. Oh shit. What was going to happen when he got his strength back
and his angry outbursts came with flames? They were going to have to do daily,hourly
meditation to maintain his cover. It was going to be a nightmare.

Back at the tent, Zuko flopped back on the bedroll. He looked pale and exhausted. He was
still sick, and probably shouldn’t have been up and about, let alone under this amount of
stress. Still, at least it was out of the way and had not been nearly as unfortunate as it could
have been.

Panuk had left some fresh fruit on the small table, and Sokka grabbed a couple of apples,
chucking one on Zuko’s chest, before he sat beside him. “The important thing is we’re safe
for now. We have a little breathing room,” he said.

“You’re safe.” Zuko pulled himself into a more upright position so he could eat his apple. He
took a vicious bite. It looked like he was imagining it was someones beating heart he was
tearing into with his teeth.

Sokka hoped it wasn’t his. “You are too. As long as we stick to the story, and you don’t
incinerate anyone.”

Zuko breathed out angrily and took another bite, juice spilling down his chin. “Don’t you
care you’re lying to your dad?” He said when he had swallowed his mouthful.

“I haven’t lied to him.” Which was true, but Sokka still felt guilt curdling in his stomach.

Zuko snorted. “You haven’t told him the truth, either.”

“No, but I haven’t lied.”

Zuko gave him a slanted look through narrowed eyes. The expression got Sokka’s back up
and he could feel his temper rising. Zuko had no right to judge. He was the reason Sokka had
to be…dishonest. He scowled back at his friend through his own bite of apple.

“Why don't you turn me in? You could win favour with your dad,” Zuko asked after a
moment, averting his eyes and looking at Sokka’s left ear like he was fascinated by it.

Oh, he was being a dick because he was anxious. Sokka pulled his anger back and instead of
snapping, he tried to think through his answer. There was a lot packed into that simple
question. Starting with Zuko’s fear about Sokka betraying him, which stung. But then, he
could also hardly blame him, given how afraid he must be in this situation. “I wouldn’t do
that,” he said. “I’m trying to protect you. I owe you that, we owe each other.” It was not that
simple, but owing and debts and honour were concepts Zuko understood and put a lot of
stock in. So he figured it was an easier way to word it than trying to dig his way into the
emotional mess that was the actual reality of the situation. They were still not on the same
side. Neither of them should or could forget that.

Zuko’s mouth thinned, and he looked uncomfortable. Sokka shook his head. Whatever. It was
true, and if feelings confused him, he was just going to have to suck it up. “And more to the
point, I don’t need to earn favour with my dad, he’s my dad.”

That one looked like it hurt, but Zuko needed to hear it, needed to understand it. Even though
it was also not strictly true. Sokka desperately wanted to know his dad wasn’t disappointed in
him. He wanted to prove he was more than just a dumbass who had gotten captured during
his first real fight. But betraying his friend was not the way he was going to do that. “Listen,
don’t get me wrong, there is a limit to what I’m willing to say. I don’t want to outright lie to
him, and if he asks me something straight up, I’m going to answer him. But he won’t,
because I asked him not to, not unless it was really important.”

Zuko didn’t look reassured. He looked miserable. Sokka didn’t know much about Zuko’s
relationship with his own father, but everything he had learned pointed towards it not being a
very pleasant or kind one, and that was putting it mildly. Sokka knew he had a lot to prove to
his dad, but despite his current conflicted feelings, he knew his dad loved him, and he would
certainly not order his death without hearing his side of things. Sokka didn’t know exactly
what Zuko had done to get banished, but Zhao had mentioned cowardice (unbelievable) and
disrespect (given Zuko’s inability to think before speaking, not a shock). But he had also
been thirteen. How could you banish a thirteen-year-old for back-chat or being afraid of
something? It still boggled his mind. He remembered being that age; he remembered his dad
leaving and his heart breaking. How afraid he had been, and how determined. How desperate
he had been to prove himself. He could only imagine what Zuko had felt.

They sat in slightly awkward silence, both lost in their own thoughts.

The shadows had long since lengthened when Panuk entered the tent. Giving them a small
wave with his burned arm. That had happened during the same raid that took Sokka’s mother.
He didn’t like to look at it, and didn't like to remember.

“Sokka, Li, I hope you are both feeling well?” Panuk asked. “I will make you a tonic to help
you regain some strength.”

“Thanks!” Sokka said, forcing some energy into his voice. He remembered Panuk’s tonics,
they were like drinking dirt.

Panuk chatted to them, avoiding the difficult topics as he mixed his herbs, before handing
Sokka an unappealing looking drink.

Sokka took a sip and made a face. “What about Li? Doesn’t he get to suffer too?”

“Drink it all, Sokka. Don’t let me catch you pouring it away again, or there will be trouble.”
Sokka took another sip. He remembered Panuk’s punishments. They all involved cleaning
stinky jars of medicinal goo. Not fun.

“As for Li, I will make him one, but first I would like to take a look at his injuries and go
over their care.” He made a gesture towards the tent flap. “If you don’t mind?”

Sokka did in fact mind quite a bit. Zuko also looked like he minded, if you went by the
expression of mild panic on his face.

But somehow, Sokka found himself outside the tent and suddenly caught in a quandary. It
would be completely wrong to eavesdrop on a conversation that was no doubt both private
and medical in nature. But if Zuko was going to accidentally say something that would get
him killed, which seemed likely without supervision, or even worse, if Panuk said something
to upset his volatile friend and ended up on fire, then Sokka would really rather be
forewarned and ready to intervene. He dithered for a moment, practicality warring with
morality.

Practicality won out. He would admit what he had done and apologise to Zuko afterwards in
the hopes he would understand and forgive. The risk of exposure and/or explosions was just
too big. Sokka darted around the back of the tent and sat, ear pressed close to the fabric.

“Let me re-wrap your bandages,” Panuk said.

Spirits, it was far too easy to overhear them. The cloth Earth Kingdom tents didn’t smother
the sound in the same way hide did. He and Zuko really needed to make sure they kept their
voices down for any future discussions.

“I can do it,” Zuko said, his voice a little sullen.

“I know you can, but I wish to check the burns first.” There were some rustling noises. “Your
fever seems to have mostly abated, but you’re still quite hot,” Panuk said with concern.

Oh, fuck. Sokka willed Zuko to say something sensible, his heart beating fast and jagged in
his chest. “I still feel sick. My body is still fighting it,” Zuko said after an alarming pause.
Sokka breathed out the breath he had been holding. Another thing to remember — don’t let
people touch the undercover firebender. It was only the first day of Zuko being conscious and
Sokka was already getting grey hairs from the stress. The anxiety was going to kill him dead.

“I will give you something to drink that will help strengthen you against it a little. Are you in
much pain?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Hmmm,” Panuk said, noncommittally. There were some noises that might have been him
preparing an ointment of some sort.

“This is a salve for you to put on the burns.”

There was a long moment and then Zuko said, “Thanks.” It sounded a little forced. He really
did hate accepting help.
“You will also need to drink this, twice a day for a few days.”

“It looks like mud,” Zuko said, doubtfully.

Panuk chuckled. “Yes, it does a bit. It is just plants and herbs.”

“What’s in it?” Zuko asked suspiciously. “The one you gave Sokka earlier didn’t look like
this.”

“It contains the same things as Sokka’s, but with a few extras. It will soften your stool and
make it easier for you to go to the toilet. Although it will still be uncomfortable. This is a
salve that will help with healing.”

There was a deafening silence from Zuko, which Sokka took to mean he was still processing
that statement. Sokka was moving even before Panuk finished speaking. This could definitely
cause an explosion. He had been foolishly hoping that the fact that most of the people with
any kind of leadership in the camp knew the details of what had happened to Zuko might not
come up. Very, very stupid of him. Of course it would. At least it was something like this and
not some jackass Earth Kingdom person throwing it in his face. Spirits, but Sokka hoped that
didn’t happen, he hoped even faced with Zuko’s temper and belligerence, some weapons
would be left off the table. It really hurt that he didn’t feel he could just trust people’s
integrity and decency any more. Something else the Fire Nation had taken from him.

He shot through the tent flap without announcing himself. “Hey, are you done?” he asked.

Zuko was still sitting on the mat in his underclothes, looking pale, bruised and wide eyed.
The information was still attempting to filter through his thick skull then. Good. Sokka had to
get Panuk out before he erupted. It was that or a breakdown. Maybe both, and neither was
something an outsider should see.

“Yes, Sokka, although you should ask before you enter the tent when I’m with a patient,”
Panuk rebuked fondly.

“Sorry. I just wanted to check to see if Li was okay. I have some stuff I need to talk to him
about.” He looked at Panuk imploringly, and the man narrowed his eyes slightly, like he
might have a clue Sokka had been listening where he shouldn’t. But, if he had suspicions, he
didn’t share them, and he nodded. “I will take my leave then.”

Once he was safely out of the tent, Sokka turned to Zuko, who was staring at the cup in his
hand. He put it on the floor, still looking at it blankly.

“I eavesdropped and heard what he said,” Sokka told him. No point in sugarcoating it.

Zuko’s eyes narrowed, and then with alarming speed he was on his feet and in Sokka’s face,
managing to loom over him threateningly despite the small difference in height and being
dressed only in his underwear.

Sokka stood his ground. While Zuko was actually mildly terrifying when he was riled, and he
was clearly incensed, Sokka didn’t feel in danger from him. At worst, he might get a punch in
the nose, but he doubted it. Zuko lashed out when he was threatened, otherwise it was all
challenges and shouting and duels and other Fire Nation nonsense. As long as Sokka stayed
calm, he would be okay. Hopefully.

“You told them!” Zuko snarled at him.

“I didn’t.” Sokka concentrated on taking even breaths and not reacting. It was hard, his
nerves were jumping, telling him to respond to the perceived threat.

“He knows! How?”

Sokka met Zuko’s furious gaze and kept his face calm. “He’s your healer, he checked you for
injuries when you were unconscious.”

Zuko shoved him, but not hard. There was coiled violence in the gesture, but as predicted, he
wasn’t letting it go. He wanted Sokka to react before he would actually punch him. Sokka got
the impression he really wanted to hit something right now. “Why would people even look
there!” he demanded.

Sokka sighed. He didn’t want to think about this, let alone talk about it. It made those strange,
cold feelings shoot through his body like icy sparks under his skin. “You have a bite mark on
your shoulder, they probably made a few guesses.”

Zuko blanched. “I have what?” He reached a hand up to the general area of his back.

Oh shit, it hadn’t occurred to Sokka he might not be aware of what that injury actually was.
“Zuko...” he began. He had no idea what to say, what he could say.

“Who did he tell? Who else knows?”

Honesty was probably the best policy, but Sokka really wished it wasn’t. “You were
unconscious and hurt. They’re not going to judge you for it, and apart from Panuk, I’m sure
no one will mention it.”

“Who!”

“My father, Shen, Bato. Probably the Earth Kingdom general.” He didn’t mention Rakuq or
the other captain, Yao. But they probably knew too.

Zuko drew back. He was shaking, and his eyes were wet with unshed tears. Sokka’s heart
broke for him. He didn’t think there was anything he could say that could possibly make it
better.

“They all know, Sokka! I didn’t want anyone to find out, and now a whole fucking company
of Water Tribe and Earth Kingdom soldiers know!”

“I’m sorry,” Sokka said uselessly.

“Sorry? I’m fucking sick of that word!” Zuko was breathing hard. He was obviously trying to
control his reaction, but it was too much. Sokka didn’t consider himself to be a touchy feely
person, but he desperately wanted to give him a hug. He wished he was like Katara, she
would be able to just do that. She would know how to react, know what to say, how to
convey her sadness and how unfair it was, how unfair all of it was. Sokka just felt lost. He
felt like there were so many feelings he wanted to express, and if he ever tried he would just
explode, and he might never be able to claw himself back together. He didn’t know how to
deal with this, how to help, or how to push it aside and forget.

Zuko’s face screwed up, contorting the scar and forcing the tears out of his closed eyes.
Sokka watched them roll down his cheeks. Perhaps this was a good thing. Apart from that
first morning, he hadn’t had a chance to really grieve over what had happened, there hadn’t
been time. Getting away and staying free had been far more important. Keeping these
feelings inside was not healthy, and potentially dangerous in the current situation. They
would come out, one way or another, and it was far better it was in a controlled environment.

Unfortunately, Sokka found he just couldn’t bear it. He couldn’t stand it.

He moved forward, telegraphing his actions as much as he could. “Hey,” he said, gently.
Zuko didn’t open his eyes, just shook his head a little. It might be the wrong thing to do, but
not taking action just seemed impossible, so Sokka reached out, slowly and carefully, and
pulled him into an embrace. Zuko was stiff and shaking, but he pushed his face into Sokka’s
neck. He took that as permission, and tightened his hold. Zuko didn’t sob or wail like Sokka
had done. He made tiny, furious, miserable noises, like he was trying to strangle the sounds
as they came out of him.

Sokka let his own tears come, but they were equal parts from rage as from sadness. He was
so, so angry. “I’m going to kill them,” he said into Zuko’s burned ear, where it touched his
face. “I’m going to kill them all for what they did.”

Sokka didn’t know if Zuko could hear him, but he wasn’t sure he was even saying it for him.
He was just so angry. He knew it wasn’t just about what had happened to Zuko, it was about
what had happened to him. But it was somehow easier to focus on Zuko’s pain, the violation
he had suffered, rather than his own. It had been different, sure, but they had torn him apart
right down to his soul, and he didn’t know what was left of himself to patch back together.
“I’m going to kill them,” he said again. He didn’t know if it would help either of them, but it
sure as shit couldn’t hurt.

Zuko nodded against him, taking deep, wet, ragged breaths. Small pained noises still being
choked out of him.

Sokka’s order of business was going to be helping end the war and saving Zuko from himself
and his father. Those were the priorities. Then, if he hadn’t found the opportunity already, he
was hunting the fuckers down, even if it was the last thing he did.
 Chapter 6
Chapter Summary

“You say that, but you haven’t seen the speed he can go from mildly crotchety confusion
to full-blown human disaster."

Chapter Notes

Warnings for this chapter: The usual vague references to torture and non-con, vomit, a
flashback to something that happened on the boat (nothing nastier than what has already
been shown) excessive cuddling.

Special thanks again to my wonderful beta reader Burkesl17 who is now free of plague
and able to taste wine again.

Also this chapter goes out to Hair!Anon on tumblr, I told you they would sort it out
eventually!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Hakoda was feeling an increasing need to speak to his son. He had to explain his choices and
his actions, for Sokka’s sake and for his own. He didn’t expect forgiveness or even
understanding, he just needed Sokka to know that what he had chosen to do was not because
he didn’t love him, or wasn’t proud of him.

That’s what he told himself, but the truth was he dearly wanted forgiveness, he longed for it.

Today he would speak to him. The timing had to be right, though. It was important to get
Sokka alone, Hakoda didn’t think he could lay himself open under Zuli’s judgmental and
disconcerting stare.

Of course, Zuli had his own issues. When Hakoda had looked into the tent a few hours after
the meeting had wound down, both boys had been in the bedroll furthest from the door. Zuli’s
head was tucked under Sokka’s chin, his body visibly trembling, whether from tears or
intense emotion Hakoda couldn’t tell. Sokka had been awake and had shaken his head ever so
slightly when he caught sight of him. Hakoda had taken the hint and silently backed out
again.
He wished there was something more he could do to help. He had tossed and turned all night
thinking about it, until Bato had leaned over and smacked him gently on the chest.

“If you can’t do anything to fix the immediate problem, do something practical that can help.
And for fuck’s sake, get some sleep, you’re going to drive yourself mad, not to mention me,”
he had said. Hakoda smiled at the memory, he knew he liked the man for a reason. Thinking
of things he could actually do for them had helped settle his mind and allowed him a few
hours of sleep.

Now of course, it was barely past sunrise, and he was staggering through his daily rounds
cursing the Fire Nation, the war and early mornings. He had come up with a few ideas, and it
was time to put them into action. First, they would need their own tent. Panuk had no other
patients at the moment, but that could change. Having their own space might make them feel
more settled. Hakoda had also thought that perhaps a task or two to do while the camp was
idle would be beneficial. Sokka was a kid who liked to be active and useful, he didn’t think
he would want to sit quietly through his physical recovery. A job might also help lift the
spirits a bit and give a little control back to him. Zuli too, if he wanted, although if he
preferred to hide in the tent, that would also be acceptable and perhaps preferable.

One of the frustrating things about being forced to remain on land was having to ask Huang
for necessities, like spare tents and other utilities. It was galling to have to request things
from the man. Although he was always given the desired items, Hakoda couldn’t help the
feeling that the Earth Kingdom general was looking down on him and his people slightly. He
knew Huang appreciated his intelligence, and the aid the Water Tribe gave in combat at sea.
But there was still something that felt condescending in the way Huang graciously provided
him with items he probably shouldn’t have had to ask for. A minor irritation in the grand
scheme of things, but even so, Hakoda opted to ask Shen rather than General Huang.

With that in mind, he headed into the Earth Kingdom side of the camp. Men were up and
about, despite the early hour, going about their daily tasks and preparing for breakfast. They
eyed Hakoda as he walked by, some with curiosity and some with something a little like
suspicion. It put Hakoda’s back up. They had been traveling as a unit for weeks, he had been
accepted, appreciated even. This new mistrust had to have come from the boys entering the
camp. It was to be expected that people would speculate and gossip, but somehow he had not
anticipated Zuli’s Fire Nation features to have had quite this much effect on people. He was
going to have to keep a close watch on them to ensure their safety from inside the camp as
well as outside. It was an extra concern he didn’t need.

Shen was of course awake, impeccably turned out and full of energy. Hakoda really hated the
man most mornings. Luckily, he did have some plus points, he seemed to care about the kids
to some degree, and was happy to oblige regarding the tent plan. He even offered to help
Hakoda set it up.

They chose a spot close, but not too close, to Hakoda’s own. He wanted to keep an eye on the
boys, but he didn’t think Sokka would appreciate being smothered by him.

“Have you checked in on them this morning?” Shen asked. Hammering in a metal peg with
forceful, practiced motions.
Hakoda shook his head. “I looked in on them last night, but didn’t want to disturb them. They
were...distressed after the meeting. Panuk told me Li was upset after he treated him,
specifically for his more intimate injuries.” Hakoda sighed.

Shen’s mouth twisted up into a frown. “Poor kid. It’s a lot to deal with, and this isn’t an ideal
situation to try to come to terms with everything that’s happened to him.”

Bit of an understatement there. “Yeah, I’m not sure what can be done, he’s not exactly
forthcoming, so there’s not a lot I can offer. Other than providing what safety I can.”

“The tent is a good idea.”

“I thought I would see if there was anything I could set them to do, keep them busy when
they’re up to it.”

Shen nodded approvingly. “Plenty of simple, small tasks to be done.”

“Might help integrate them a little too,” Hakoda said, admiring their handiwork. The tent was
tall, and made of a dull green, slightly weather stained cloth. It would do.

Shen glanced around casually and that immediately made Hakoda tense up. Checking for
people who might overhear them was never a good sign.

“I was thinking about that, actually,” Shen said, keeping his voice low. “I wanted to run
something past you.”

“Go on,” Hakoda said, only slightly reluctantly. As far as he could tell after a few months’
exposure, Shen was a decent person, loyal, hardworking and with a strong moral core that
didn’t seem to waver even in the face of opposition from his own people. But he was also
stubborn, strong willed and seemed to act from his gut instinct. Doing things like rescuing
golden eyed boys from the woods, despite the high likelihood the kid was one of their
enemies. It just made Hakoda a little nervous.

Shen rolled his wide shoulders, looking a touch uncomfortable, which didn’t help Hakoda’s
feeling of trepidation. “It might make things a little easier if people were aware of Zuli’s
supposed crimes against the Fire Nation,” Shen said eventually, keeping his voice down and
aiming for casual, like he wasn’t suggesting something that was at least insubordination if not
worse. The general had clearly told them to keep the contents of the meeting to themselves.
Shen cut him a look. “It will get out eventually, these things always do. But if we helped it
spread a little quicker, it might ease some of the tension. Stop someone calling him an
ashmaker to his face.”

“And then getting punched,” Hakoda said wryly.

“And that.”

He was right, people were not happy about the boy being in the camp. Never mind that a
good few of Shen’s soldiers had eyes of a similar shade. Although, none with quite that
intensely golden colour.
“His eyes are very distinctive,” Hakoda said instead of answering. He just needed a moment
or two to think through his options and the consequences of his potential choices.

Shen’s mouth pinched a little. “Yeah.” He looked even more uncomfortable and Hakoda
realised he might have opened up yet another disquieting avenue of discussion. “It’s not a
colour that’s common in the infantry I’ve fought. Seems to be more associated with the upper
echelons of their society.”

Hakoda had been worried he was going to say something like that. Could Zuli’s father be a
general? Someone important? Did the boy know who it was? Was he looking for revenge? Or
was he just set on getting payback from all of them? Hakoda held back a groan. So many
questions, with no easy way to get answers. He decided he was going to deliberately ignore
the possible implications of Shen’s words for the time being. “You might be right about the
usefulness of the rumour-mill,” he said instead. “But I wouldn’t want to spread the tale if it's
not true. It would be unfair. I will speak to them and see if I can get some clarity first.”

Shen nodded. “Go get them awake and ready for breakfast. Then you can ask if there is
anything they might like to do around camp.”

“What’s needed?”

Shen shrugged. “Food prep and serving is always useful. Animal upkeep, message runners,
inventory, laundry. There are plenty of things, see what they might be interested in. I’ll make
it happen.”

Hakoda gave him a quick, rueful grin. “Thanks, Captain. It’s good to know I’ve got a man in
my corner.”

Shen flashed him a quick, lopsided smile in return. “Someone’s got to do it.”

Hakoda made his way to the healer’s tent, but drew up short as Sokka was seemingly forcibly
ejected from the enclosure. His short hair was sticking in all directions and he looked half
asleep. He was only partly into his shirt, one arm vaguely flailing as he tried to get it into his
sleeve. Zuli followed him out, looking murderous.

Once again, that expression on his face made everything in Hakoda want to react. He just
couldn’t prevent the instinctive response to a perceived threat to his son, even though,
logicically, he knew there wasn’t one.

Sokka didn’t seem in the least bit upset by the scowl, he seemed more unhappy about being
awake. “Why are you like this?” he whined, running a hand through his disordered hair. He
sounded like he had as a kid when Hakoda had dragged him out of bed to do chores.

Zuli was in his space, far too close, and glaring at him. “You have to practise every day!” He
said, his scowl somehow becoming more severe.
“Yeah, I get that, but why now?” Sokka waved a hand, attempting to show the early hour with
sweeping gestures. “Can’t it wait until after breakfast?”

“No! You have to practice.” Zuli ruined his furious expression slightly by firming his chin,
which made his lower lip stick out in a ridiculous pout. Probably not the expression he was
aiming for, but one that helped ease Hakoda’s anxiety.

Sokka made more pleading, unhappy faces, but Zuli ignored them, dragging him off to the
side and around the back of the healer’s tent. Hakoda debated not getting in their way, but
then followed as casually as he could.

“Start with the warm up movements. You haven’t practiced in a few days,” Zuli was saying.
He was standing in a patch of the bright morning sun that made his yellow eyes almost glow.
He fell into a loose stance, which Sokka copied. Then they began to move through some
simple forms. The steps looked gentle and there was an almost liquid quality to the
movements. Hakoda assumed they had practiced these katas in captivity, perhaps using them
for exercise. They were alien to him, not something he recognised. He wondered if they were
from the colonies, or a specific style Zuli had picked up, who had taught him?

Zuli’s body was moving with the grace of long practice, as he flowed from one step to the
next, something in the lines of his shoulders loosened and became less tense. Sokka was less
smooth, and the motions didn’t seem to relax him in the same way, but as he moved through
the forms he picked up some of the graceful flow. It might have just been fatherly pride
talking, but Hakoda thought he was pretty good at mimicking his friend’s movements. It was
oddly calming to watch.

Hakoda wasn’t sure if Sokka was aware of him, but Zuli certainly was, he had shot him a
challenging look and then proceeded to ignore him with a steady determination that bordered
on insulting.

After watching for what might have been close to an hour, Hakoda reluctantly left them to it.
He had his own tasks to attend to. He would send someone with food and come back and
speak to Sokka later.

Hakoda’s plan to speak to his son was not going well. Sokka was avoiding him. At first he
thought it was just bad luck, but as the sun climbed higher, he had still not managed to get a
chance to speak with him alone. Zuli was a furious, ever watchful shadow, and Sokka was
using that to its full advantage.

Eventually Hakoda resorted to cheating.

He had asked Shen to distract Zuli, perhaps invite him to choose a job. Shen had been a
willing conspirator and had even seemed pleased at the prospect. He was the only person
aside from Sokka, and perhaps Panuk, in the whole camp who wasn’t put off by Zuli, and
even actively appeared to want to spend time with him. Bizarre.
Hakoda found Sokka standing outside Panuk’s tent, staring into nothingness like he wasn’t all
present. Knowing the emotional toll his captivity would have taken on him, it was
disconcerting to see him gazing into space like that. Even more so, when Hakoda’s soft
greeting pulled him out of it with a jolt. Watching his face change and his breath gasp as he
came back from wherever he had gone in his mind was unsettling. It made a heavy sadness
seep into Hakoda’s body like a chill.

Sokka looked at him, really seeing him this time. He tensed, like he was going to make a run
for it.

“Please, Sokka. Can we have a few moments?” Hakoda asked. He wanted to plead with him,
and he wanted to order him to stay and listen. He managed to keep both impulses out of his
voice, but only just. “I won’t take up much of your time.”

Sokka’s eyes sought out Zuli, who had been cornered by Shen, as promised. They were
talking near the first of the campfires, or more likely arguing, judging by the sharp hand
gestures Zuli was making. There did not appear to be any danger of bloodshed though, so
Hakoda felt he could take up a little of his son’s attention. Sokka did not seem so sure, he was
squinting at them in concern.

“He’s going to be okay for a few minutes, Sokka,” Hakoda said gently, and with as much
warmth as he could muster.

Sokka dragged his eyes back. “You say that, but you haven’t seen the speed he can go from
mildly crotchety confusion to full-blown human disaster. Did I tell you about the time he
threw his chamber pot full of piss on the admiral? We suffered for that.” His lips twisted in a
smile at the memory. “Worth it though.”

Hakoda blinked. “He threw pee on the admiral? A firebending admiral? Did that not seem
like a…risky thing to do?”

Sokka snorted. “You will discover, thinking about consequences is not something Li excels
at. It’s part of his charm, when it’s not likely to get you killed.”

“Hmmm,” Hakoda said. He was unconvinced Zuli had charm of any sort, and unsure whether
he should share his son’s smile or just freak out quietly over how close he had come to losing
him. “Li will be okay with Shen,” he said instead. “He won’t react poorly to provocation.”

“He seems very interested in us,” Sokka said, shooting him a glance from under his lashes.
“Interested in Li.” There was a question there, laced with concern.

Hakoda considered and opted for honesty. “I think Shen is curious about him, and feels
responsible for him. I also suspect that he has some personal issues that are colouring his
thinking.” As he said it, he realised how true it was. “I don’t know his story really, but he
seems quite protective of people with a mixed heritage.”

Sokka nodded, but he looked unconvinced, his gaze sliding back towards his friend, who was
now waving his arms vigorously. Shen’s posture was still relaxed though, so it didn’t seem to
warrant an intervention just yet.
“But,” Hakoda continued, “I also suspect that General Huang has asked Shen to keep an eye
on him. He was also monitoring me, before you…arrived.” He took a slow, calming breath.
“They were worried I was going to take off in the middle of the night to rescue you.”

Sokka looked at him, face a blank mask. He was an expressive kid, the lack of animation was
disturbing. “They stopped you from coming?” he asked.

Hakoda had hoped they might be having this conversation in private, or at least in a tent. But
apparently not.

“They wanted to, yes. If I had attempted to leave, I suspect it would not have gone well.” It
would be so easy to just blame General Huang, he could even pass blame to Rakuq or Shen.
But it would be wrong to do so and do nothing to assuage his guilt. “I wanted to, more than
anything. I wanted to come when I received the first correspondence. I can’t tell you what it
felt like to open the package with your hair.” He allowed the pain to show in his face, in the
way his breathing hitched. “But I would have had to have come alone, and if I had failed, and
the admiral had captured me, then all of our plans would be forfeit. We might lose Ba Sing
Se.”

“I get it. I do. The war is more important.”

“Sokka...”

“I’m not being snide. It is more important. I do understand. But you have to understand…”
He trailed off, breathing hard. He didn’t seem to be able to finish the thought. “At first, I
didn’t want you to come because I knew it was a trap. Zhao has no morals and no honour.
None. He wouldn’t have kept his word, you would have been killed, and me too, most likely.
But later, after Ro started hurting me. After I realised the danger Li was in, I didn’t care. I
wanted you to come. But you didn’t. No one came, no one stopped what happened.”

“I’m so sorry, Sokka.”

“Yeah, me too.” His jaw was tight and his eyes were full of unshed tears that he was
stubbornly refusing to let fall.

“If there is anything…” Hakoda began, but was cut off by Zuli’s already loud voice getting
louder.

“I am not washing your dirty clothes!”

Sokka straightened a bit at his friend’s words, surreptitiously scrubbing at his eyes. “What?”
he muttered, in apparent confusion.

“Shen was going to speak to Li about work that might need doing in the camp,” Hakoda
offered by way of explanation. “You too, nothing mandatory, just if you want to.”

“Not sure laundry is going to suit Li’s tastes,” Sokka offered with a half-hearted smile.

“Got any suggestions?” Hakoda couldn’t quite smile back, although he tried.
“What are the options?”

“Food, although that's probably a bad idea. They might suspect him of trying to poison
them.”

“Not sure cooking will be in his repertoire, either. Anything else?”

“Animal upkeep?”

“Yes! That one might work. He’s going to complain about it, but he’ll do it.” Sokka nodded
his head. “He likes animals, so he might even enjoy it.” He considered, “Well, probably not,
but we can dream.”

Hakoda couldn’t help feeling that although the conversation was clearly over, the situation
remained unresolved.

It played on his mind for the rest of the day. That, and the whispers of discontent he was
hearing as he undertook his tasks. They came from his own people as well as the Earth
Kingdom soldiers, most likely spread by folk like Yao and Rakuq, and were all focused on
Zuli.

It wasn’t fair, but Hakoda knew he was just as guilty. He didn’t like the kid being so close to
his son based on nothing else but the way he looked. He had to continuously shake off the
prejudice. Because after hearing him speak at the meeting, he found he did trust him to some
degree. He didn’t think he meant them any harm, and what danger he might bring them
would come from outside his ability to control.

Hakoda felt himself drawn towards the stables. Perhaps the best way to ease his mind was
just to talk to him. And also he could get some confirmation regarding the alleged murder of
the prince. If he got that, then maybe they could allow the rumour to spread and that would
ease at least some of the tension.

Hakoda watched Zuli drag a bucket of feed towards the line of ostrich horses, his face set in
hard lines of concentration. Having been given a task he had set to it with single-minded
determination, although he also looked furious about it. As predicted, he had not been best
pleased with any of the work options, but had selected the animals out of the possibilities
presented to him. He had been feeding and cleaning the birds for hours, under the watchful
and somewhat scornful eye of the stable master, who looked one step away from sneering in
his face.

The birds created a pungent but not wholly unpleasant odour and they were noisy; chirping
and squawking. Some of them made strange low sounds in their throats as he came closer.
Hakoda was not a fan of the things, they were highly strung and temperamental. A bit like
their newest caretaker seemed to be.
“Li?” Hakoda asked, as he stepped into stabling area. Zuli jumped, falling into a defensive
stance and spilling the handful of grain he had been feeding one of the birds. Hakoda could
have kicked himself. Both the boys were extremely jumpy and startling easily, which was to
be expected given the situation. But he had approached on the kid’s left. He had forgotten for
a moment that Panuk had suspected he couldn’t see out of that eye. He raised his hands
apologetically. “Sorry. I just wanted to see how you were doing, and if you wanted a hand
with anything?”

“I’m fine.” The ostrich-horse he had been feeding swung her head at him, knocking against
his shoulder and plucking at his shirt in annoyance. Keeping an eye on Hakoda, Zuli bent to
scoop up the spilled seed.

“I know, you’re doing a good job. I just...” Honesty was the best way to approach him. “I just
wanted a chance to talk to you.”

“What about?”

Hakoda shrugged. He didn’t really know how to explain what he wanted. He had questions,
many, many questions, but none of them seemed appropriate to just launch into.

The kid rolled his eyes rudely. “Just ask,” he said.

“If you’re sure. This isn’t an integration, you have no obligation to answer anything, and
there will be no repercussions if you want to keep things to yourself.”

“You want to ask about what we spoke about in the tent, don’t you?” Zuli said, sullenly. He
held out his hand to the big brown hen and let her peck the grain out of it.

“I really do, yeah,” Hakoda admitted. “But I meant what I said. You don’t have to answer.”

Zuli nodded. “I won’t if I don’t want to. Ask.”

Hakoda was just going to go right in, he didn’t think the kid would appreciate his beating
about the bush. “You knew the boat blew up because of the blasting jelly…” He paused as
Zuli’s eyes narrowed. Perhaps that had been too forward. There had to be a less
confrontational way to phrase it, something that wouldn’t get the kid’s hackles up.

“You want to know if the boat blew up as a result of my actions?” Zuli said flatly. “The
answer is yes.”

Okay, that was easy enough. “May I ask why? I mean, of course killing Ozai’s son is an
obvious plus point in the war effort. But why risk it?”

Zuli looked at him steadily. “Sokka says I’m a bad liar, so I would rather not try,” he said at
last. Absently petting the wicked-looking beak that was trying to work its way into his
pockets in search of more food.

So it was personal, not political. Hakoda had suspected that was the case. The reasons could
be in their hundreds, it could be because of any number of slights or acts of violence towards
the boy or his family. But there was a glaringly obvious one. “Did he burn you?” he asked,
then wished he hadn’t. That was a horribly personal question that he would have berated
anyone else for asking. Zuli flinched and Hakoda felt even more like an arsehole. “I’m sorry,
Li, you don’t need to answer that. It was rude and inappropriate. My curiosity gets the better
of my tongue sometimes.”

“A trait you share with your son,” Zuli said a little wryly. “It’s okay. He didn’t do this.” he
touched his face, leaving another smear of dirt on his scarred cheek. “But you could say he
was the reason for it. He made it happen. That’s all I want to say about it.”

“I’m sorry. I just wanted to get to know you a little better, not upset you and bring up old
wounds.”

He looked bemused. “Why?” The bruises around his throat and face were yellowing and
fading, they made him look lost and waiflike, and it made Hakoda feel worse.

“Because you’re my son’s friend. Because I want to help you. Both of you.”

“I don’t mean any harm to Sokka,” Zuli said, his voice a little husky. He sounded completely
sure of himself, no doubts. He was telling the truth, Hakoda was certain of it. “I don’t see
how knowing things about me will help make you feel better,” he added, scooping out
another fistful of grain for the birds. He seemed to enjoy hand feeding them.

Spirits, but he was a difficult kid. “Do you have family? Somewhere you want to go?”
Hakoda asked. “Don’t get me wrong, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you want or
need. We will protect you, and you can do as much or as little as you like in the fight.” He
didn’t want it to sound like he was just babying him. The kid had clearly been out on his own
for some time, and probably wouldn’t appreciate being coddled. But Hakoda also wanted him
to know that he would be kept safe. Poor boy really needed a break.

Zuli considered quietly, the scarred side of his face tucked slightly against his shoulder. “No.
Well, I have an uncle.” He shot a quick look at Hakoda, then averted his eyes. “We were
travelling together for a while, but we were separated. I don’t know…I don’t know if…I want
to find him. Or at least…at least learn what happened to him,” he said haltingly. It was
obviously a difficult topic for him.

“If we can help with that, we will,” Hakoda promised, although he wasn’t sure if they could
do anything. Trying to hunt rumours of some random man was not likely to yield results. “Is
there anything else we can do for you, anything you need?”

“I don’t need much stuff. Everything that I had, Zhao took.” He flinched at his own words.
His shoulders hunching inward for a second, before he straightened them out and tipped his
chin up, aggressive in his defiance of his own emotions. The hen clicked at him and walloped
him with her big head again, perhaps picking up on his distress, or possibly just trying to
shake some more grain out of him.

“If you think of something, let me or Shen know. Sokka has already given me a list longer
than my arm of stuff he wants, so don’t feel you will put us out.”

“There is something.”
“Yes?”

Zuli flicked a glance at him, still avoiding eye contact. “A sword. For Sokka. He’s not ready
yet, but he should start practising with an actual weapon soon.”

Hakoda wasn’t sure how he felt about Sokka learning the sword. Both Earth and Fire used
them, but the Southern Water Tribe did not, or at least, not the straight-bladed types the other
nations preferred. Still, it was Sokka’s choice. “I’m sure I can find something,” he said.

Zuli shook his head. “Not something. I want to choose it, it has to be the right kind of sword,
the right weight and balance for him. So he gets the best out of it.”

Hakoda felt himself smile a little. “Okay. I’ll speak to the general. The Earth Kingdom camp
has a stash of confiscated weapons. I'm sure you will find something in there that will work
for you. And something for yourself if you want?”

“I would like that, thank you.” He scooped out more grain and offered it to the hen,
effectively turning his back on Hakoda. Conversation over.

Well, it could have gone a lot worse.

………………...

Sokka tracked Zuko down by the ostrich horses at sundown. He stayed in the shadows a
while, to watch his friend tending the huge bird monsters. He was grumbling to them and
petting the course plumage as he rubbed them down. Although he didn’t seem overjoyed to
be there, he seemed to take some pleasure in touching them, stroking over the short feathers
where the evil-looking beaks began. The repetitive stoking seemed to have a calming effect
on him, and the ugly bird things seemed to like it too.

“Hey, Li?” he called, stepping into the stable. “You about done here?”

Zuko turned to glare. He looked grubby, tired, and disgruntled. It was a deeply amusing look
on him.

“Bath?” Sokka asked, and Zuko’s deepening scowl lifted almost instantly and he nodded with
vigorous enthusiasm. “Good, you need one. I can smell you from here.”

Zuko snorted. “Very tactful, Sokka. Was this work nonsense your idea? I don’t see you
shovelling shit.” He fell into step as they headed back towards their new tent.

“No...Well, the ostrich horse part was. I thought you might enjoy that more than the other
options.” Sokka waved a hand to prevent any outbursts. “I’m doing my bit too. I have been
doing inventory. A very important job that involves writing lists. Which I enjoy probably
more than I should.”
“Lists are not very taxing,” Zuko groused, brushing feathers and dirt off his clothes. He was
going to need a couple of additional sets if this was how filthy he was going to get every day.
Luckily, Sokka was the plan guy.

“Tada!” he said as he swung open their tent flap. There was a battered tin tub full of lightly
steaming water, an assortment of grooming products provided by his father, and a new set of
earthy clothes for Zuko.

“Bath,” Zuko said, a little inanely, but with a certain amount of wonder. It made Sokka smile.

“Yup. Bath! You want to go first? Or shall I?”

Zuko was already halfway out of his clothes, leaving them in a dirty pile on the floor.
“Where’s the water?”

Sokka squinted at him. “It’s in the tub, dumbass. Where else would it be?”

“Not that water, the water to wash with. Otherwise you sit in your own dirt, and whoever
goes second sits in both lots of dirt.”

Sokka had wondered at the extra pails of water Zhao had provided them with during their last
shared bath. It must be some weird Fire Nation thing. Made a certain amount of sense
though. He had no desire to sit in water that Zuko had washed in, certainly not considering
the sheer amount of dirt and bird shit on him. Everywhere he had touched on his face and
neck was muddy. There were even smudges on his nose. It was very endearing. “I’ll go fetch
some buckets,” he offered.

By the time he got back, Zuko was sitting naked on the mat and inspecting his bandages. He
had taken the one around his torso off. And was investigating those around his waist. He had
one wrapped around his upper left thigh, too. Sokka did not know what that injury was, and
he didn’t really want to. “I’m not sure I should get these wet,” Zuko said reluctantly.

Sokka set down his buckets. “Let me have a look. He crouched to pull back the cloth and
peer at the abused skin beneath. The blisters were starting to scab where they had broken and
wept. “Yeah. I think you may have to wash from outside the tub. Sorry, I thought it would be
a nice surprise.”

Zuko blinked at him. “It was. But I don’t want to risk getting sick again. I’ll make do with
washing using the pails.”

Sokka nodded, he was feeling let down on Zuko’s behalf, which was stupid. There would be
other baths. “I just got cold water, can you, you know,” he lowered his voice to a bare
whisper, “Heat it?”

Zuko hunched his shoulders a bit. “Maybe. I…” he flexed his hands, looking at them intently.
“I can feel it, not like on the boat. I know it’s there, but it seems very far away. Firebending
takes a lot of energy. You have to create it, rather than just using what’s available. I’m not
sure I can, not yet.” He paused for a moment, face creased in a little thoughtful scowl. “Or, I
mean, I could, but I don’t think it would be worth the waste of energy. The water’s fine cold.
I can heat myself at least, that shouldn’t take too much effort.”

Sokka had never really considered the mechanics of firebending. And he had to resist the
urge to question him further on the particulars. Probably best to save that conversation for a
time they were not in the middle of an encampment of people that would kill him if he was
outed. “We can just use the water from the tub. I’ll just chuck the cold out, and you can have
at least one that’s warm.”

“Thanks.”

After some faffing, Sokka finally lowered himself into the bath. It was wonderful, but his
enjoyment was slightly dampened by the fact Zuko would not be able to share the pleasure of
it. Sokka watched him wash, using the water from the buckets. His bony shoulder blades
protruded as he cleaned himself methodically and thoroughly. Despite the obvious weight
loss, there was still a rangy strength to his body. Sokka would bet he would build back his
annoying muscles quickly, with good food and the regular exercise he seemed determined to
force upon himself (and also upon Sokka). He had a feeling his own physique would take
longer to return to its former, slightly underwhelming glory.

“Will you help with my hair?” Sokka asked. He didn’t need the assistance, but he thought it
might be a good segue to offer to help Zuko with his. He had refused to allow Sokka to return
the favour of washing it last time, on the boat. Sokka had thought about it a bit, and he had
come to the conclusion there was some Fire Nationy reason behind that.

“Sure,” Zuko said after a pause. “You want me to wash it?”

“I can do that bit,” Sokka assured him.

“I don’t mind.”

“Well, if you insist, I won’t say no, it was good last time.”

It was good this time, too. Zuko’s fingers were strong and sure, and a little extra force was
not so bad in this situation. Sokka groaned loudly and a little embarrassingly as the pressure
in his neck relaxed with the rest of his body at the sensation.

“Did I hurt you?”

“It was a pleased noise.”

“Oh. Okay.” For an argumentative, aggressive, and difficult person, he could be very passive
when he was at ease.

“Zuko, could you pass me that leather pouch there?” Sokka pointed a finger and Zuko
dutifully fetched it for him. Sokka wondered if he should suggest he put pants on, now he
was done cleaning himself, but decided not to make it weird. Hopefully, no one would walk
in on them naked. Zuko seemed to be treating their tent as some sort of an impenetrable
fortress that people wouldn’t bust into on a whim, which was probably not the case.
He flipped open the pouch, revealing a set of razors.

“Will you shave it for me?” Sokka asked. He wasn’t sure if he was overstepping Fire Nation
boundaries. In the Water Tribe it was a sign of trust and friendship, and he would extend the
offer in return with that in mind.

“The same as it was before?”

“Yes please. Leave the long hair, I’ll grow it out.”

Zuko shifted around to sit behind him again. “It’s going to look stupid,” he said, as he ran his
fingers through the offending longer strands on the top of Sokka’s head.

“No, it’s going to look amazing. It will start a fashion trend among the Earth Kingdom
peoples. They will call it...”

“Stupid.”

“No, they will call it Sokka Style.” He made a few wide hand gestures that he felt
encompassed the coolness of his superior styling.

“Stupid Style,” Zuko grumped at him, carefully shaving the sides of Sokka’s head with neat
and meticulous motions.

“Wrong again, Zuli,” That got him an annoyed grunt, but no bleeding wounds from the razor
running softly over his scalp. “Sokka’s Sexy, Superior Style!”

“Whatever.”

“You want me to do yours after, Captain Grumpy?”

Zuko paused his ministrations, considering.

“You don’t have to. I can get you a mirror and you can sort it yourself. Just if you want, I can
wash and trim it for you,” Sokka tried.

“Okay.”

Victory! There were some logistical problems about the best way to wash hair without getting
into the bath, but they ended up with Sokka still sitting in the tub and Zuko leaning his head
back over it, giving him access to wash it. Zuko was tense though, the muscles straining in
his neck, and he twitched violently at the first dribble of water from Sokka’s hands over the
top of his head. Sokka didn’t understand why, but unless Zuko told him to stop he figured he
would just carry on. He dug his fingers into the short hair and rubbed in the soap, massaging
as he went.

“Oh,” Zuko said, his body relaxing again. He made a little noise in his throat, something that
almost sounded wounded, but wasn’t.
Sokka didn’t think many people had touched him gently. He wasn’t sure if that was a lack of
people who cared, or if he had some sort of aversion to casual contact. Most likely a
combination of the two. “What’s the issue with the hair washing?” He asked. Perhaps a little
bluntly. “Is it a thing...where you’re from?”

Zuko grunted. His eyes were closed, and he looked like he was trying to melt into the floor.
They would have to try this again sometime. “It’s complicated,” he said, his words thick and
slow. “People shouldn’t touch my hair. My top knot, if I had one. Body servants can,
obviously. And close friends or family. But other people mustn’t.”

As suspected, Fire Nation tradition stuff. Zhao cutting off his ponytail had been the first in a
series of violations for him, just as it had been for Sokka. The thought made his vision go
white at the edges with a rolling wave of fury.

“Lean forward so I can trim your hair,” he said, breathing through it. A few more deep
breaths. “So am I your servant?” he asked, forcing his voice to be light and aiming for
humour despite the sudden shake in his hands.

“No. I offered to wash yours first, remember? Do you think I’m your servant? Because I will
disabuse you of that notion with extreme prejudice and some level of violence.”

Sokka chuckled, surprised at the joke, and he felt a warmth in his chest as he basked in the
implications. “Wouldn’t dream of it, buddy.”

He shaved off the longer, ridiculous tuft of hair on the back of Zuko’s head. He would miss
its stupidness. In other circumstances, if hair hadn’t had some sort of deeper Fire Nation
meaning for him, Sokka might have shaved his name into it, or something else amusing. But
as it was, he trimmed and tidied, until the hair was even. It was surprising to him how much
he and Zuko didn’t know about each other’s cultures, how easy it was to make a misstep and
do or say something insulting. “Was I too forward with that question, about the hair?” he
asked.

Zuko thought about it. “No, it’s fine. You’re a lot like your father. He asked me if…the prince
burned me.”

“Well, that was rude of him. Is this your round-about way of telling me I’m rude?” When had
he been talking to Sokka’s dad without supervision? It was bad enough him talking to
Captain Shen earlier.

Zuko shrugged. “No, although, you are. He apologised right after. He didn’t hold the words
in and made a mistake, but when he tried to make up for it, he was kind and straightforward.”

“And that reminds you of me?”

“Yeah.”

Sokka smiled. “You’re also very straightforward. I like that about you.”

“But not very kind,” Zuko said, quietly.

Sokka brushed the small shorn hairs off Zuko’s boney shoulders with a gentle hand. “Not in
your words,” He agreed, voice as soft as he could make it. “Not often, although I am pretty
sure this was a good effort on your part. But you’re kind in other ways.”

Zuko didn’t respond, apparently lost in thought.

Clean and feeling refreshed, with the cool air sliding familiar and pleasing along the sides of
his freshly shaved scalp, Sokka checked his own bandages, redressed the wounds and pulled
his clothes back on. “Come on Sunshine, put your pants on. I have it on good authority we
are going to be allowed to eat actual solid food tonight. Meat! Fish! Maybe even a
vegetable!”

Zuko rolled his eyes and dressed in his fresh set of clothes, eyeing them disparagingly. He
was clearly unimpressed with his Earth Kingdom garb. Well, tough shit. They had meat to
eat!

Sokka could admit he was excited about the food. It was something he had thought about for
a whole month of near starvation and even the prospect of having to keep an eye on Zuko
while eating with the men couldn’t put too much of a dampener on it, although he felt any
exposure Zuko had to them was risky.

They sat around the first fire, the biggest one, along with Sokka’s dad, Bato, Chief Rakuq,
other important Water Tribe members and Captain Shen.

Sokka’s dad had pretty much laid Shen’s motives out for him, and he was certain he had the
right of it, but it was still a little strange. Although Shen was essentially spying on them, he
also seemed to genuinely enjoy their company. He seemed to like Zuko, which was baffling,
although perhaps it shouldn’t be, Sokka liked him, after all. Still, he remained cautious of the
man. His motives were not necessarily in their best interests.

His dad smiled at him, and Sokka resolutely didn’t think about the conversation they’d had
earlier. He didn’t know how he felt about it, how he should respond to it in his own mind. He
just wanted to eat, relish something that had been taken from him.

Food was roast fish, cooked under the coals, and a mixture of rice and fresh vegetables,
scavenged from the local area. It was probably much finer than the soldiers got. Almost
quivering with anticipation, Sokka took his bowl and drew in a long sniff, preparing to enjoy
every second.

The smell of the fish hit him, and his stomach lurched, sick and unsteady.

The camp fell away.

He was on the boat.

As he watched, Zhao slammed Zuko down on the table in front of him, sending fish and
pickles flying in all directions. Trapped under the larger man, Zuko met Sokka’s eyes and
there was actual fear in his gaze. The sight of it was terrifying. Zuko had been furious,
anxious, insolent, but there had been nothing like the naked fright on his face there was now.
He knew what Zhao was going to do to him, what Sokka was going to have to watch.

There was nothing he could do, the helplessness mixed and tangled with the fear. Time
seemed to slow for a second. Sokka could feel Ro’s rough, hot hand holding his arm down on
the table. He could smell him, under the scent of the smashed, scattered fish and sharp
vinegar of the pickles. It was suffocating. Distantly, he felt Ro should smell bad, like
something evil. He should smell fetid, like rotten meat, but he just smelt like a man. Sweat
and the sea, with some musky oil, maybe something he used on his hair.

Mundane. Boring.

Sokka’s heart raced, and his arm burned with pain. The scene unfolded in front of him like a
dream. A nightmare he had seen before.

When Zhao smashed Zuko’s head against the table, Sokka started to struggle. He couldn’t
watch, he didn’t want to see. He didn’t know if he was trying to escape or help. “Stop!” he
called, or tried to. He couldn’t hear his own voice. He writhed in Ro’s forceful grip as Zhao
removed his belt.

Sokka’s stomach rolled. He thought he might have thrown up, although he couldn’t
remember doing it. He could feel shocks of cold under his skin, and a feeling of disbelief
mixing with panic. Ro had him in a powerful hold, however he fought he couldn’t get away.

Zuko was dazed, blinking on the table, unable to fight. Sokka had never seen him look
helpless before. Even when he was about to be executed, when he must have been terrified,
he had kept his back straight and his chin up with defiance. Now more than ever, Sokka
realised he was just a kid. They both were. But that didn’t matter to these people.

Sokka’s head spun. Why was this happening to them? How could it be happening to him? It
felt like only moments ago he was with his sister and Aang. Why had he chosen to take on
the mission? It had been pure stupidity, a stupid desire to prove himself a man. What kind of
man couldn’t save his friend from something like this? What kind of man was too scared to
even protest properly?

He shut his eyes. He didn’t want to watch, he couldn’t.

People were shouting. It was confusing for a moment. Sokka didn’t know where he was. It
felt like reality had stopped and the world was just dull, yellow shadows. He struggled
weakly, but he was being held too tight to move. The pain of the grip on him was strangely
grounding. He could feel the fingers digging into his skin. This meant he had skin, had a
body, he was somewhere. He focused on the sensation and more rushed in on him; the scent
of a fire, of sweat and the acrid smell of vomit. Under that, something familiar and warm. He
pushed his face against the heat under his cheek, inhaled.

Zuko smell.
Reality swam back slowly. People were still shouting. There was a feeling of tension and
confusion.

“Hakoda!” someone was yelling. “Stay back!”

His dad was here? And Zuko was definitely here, Sokka’s face was pressed against his chest,
he could feel his heart beating fast and scared under the thin cloth of his shirt. Sokka tried to
push back, to gain a little understanding of the situation. He opened his eyes and wiggled in
Zuko’s grip, twisting his head when he couldn’t break it.

They were still around the fire, the light shadowed and tinged with flickering yellow. Men
were scattered and blades were drawn. Zuko was holding him tight enough to bruise, one arm
wrapped around his shoulder protectively. The other was held straight out in front of him, his
shaking hand gripping a pair of broken chopsticks like a weapon. An effective one, they were
smeared with blood.

Sokka stared at the tableau. He was fully seated in Zuko’s lap, and although he couldn’t see
his face, he could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he took gasping, almost panicked
breaths. What was going on?

“Sokka!” That was his dad. Sokka tried to focus on him. He looked panicked too, standing a
few paces away, his knife drawn and shining in the firelight. Shen had hold of his other arm,
keeping him back. Both of them were bloody. Sokka looked at them, trying to make sense of
what was happening.

“Hakoda, calm down,” Shen said sternly. “Just stay calm.” His eyes were steady, they didn’t
have the frantic look his father’s had. “Sokka, you back with us?” he asked.

He nodded as best he could, still trapped in Zuko’s iron grip. He wasn’t sure he was though.
There was lingering pain in his body from things that had happened days, weeks ago and
mouth tasted acidic and awful, like he had thrown up. The scent of vomit was suddenly
overwhelming, and he retched.

Sokka drifted a moment, he felt distant and at the same time like his body was lit up with a
cold fire inside.

“Sokka?” His dad said, his voice tense. There were splashes of blood on his face, but the
majority seemed to be on his forearm, close to where Shen was holding him. It was shocking
to see the red splatters, but it didn’t look like a serious wound. It took a moment to connect
the dots. Zuko had stabbed his dad with the chopsticks. That must be what had happened. He
couldn’t figure out why or how he had missed it. He didn’t understand, and he felt like
crying.

He didn’t though, because if they were going to get out of this apparent disaster, someone had
to do the thinking. And it was unlikely to be Zuko, who was still shaking underneath him.
Sokka struggled to think through the fog in his mind, and for a moment the two realities of
then and now rushed together again, overlaying in a dizzying, sickening way.
He had gone back to the boat. In his mind he had been there, and as a result he had panicked.
His blind fear had caused both his dad and Zuko to panic in response. His dad had probably
reached for him, and Zuko had reacted like it was a threat, was still treating the men around
them as a threat, judging from the way he was holding his blood stained chopsticks.

Sokka took a breath, forced himself to take another. He didn’t want to have to deal with this.
But there was no choice. For now he ignored his dad and twisted in Zuko’s grip, so he could
see his face. His eyes were wild, wide, and had the fixed stare of someone in the midst of
something horrifying. Sokka cupped his unburned cheek and tried to turn his face slightly, so
he could meet his eyes. It was not easy. He could feel the tension in his body, tight and
thrumming. He might not have gone as deep as Sokka had, but he wasn’t fully in reality
either. “Zu...Li.” Damn it, he couldn’t risk his name. “Hey, buddy. We’re safe, I’m safe.”

It had little effect. Although Sokka had moved his face, Zuko’s eyes were still locked on
Sokka’s dad. And the broken chopsticks were still held straight out like an improvised knife.
Sokka wiggled a little until he could sit up properly. “I’m safe. We’re safe. Stand down,” he
said, keeping his voice as low and calm as possible. He didn’t think he was doing a good job,
it sounded thin and reedy even to him. Scared.

“Please,” he said. “We’re okay.”

Zuko blinked and his gaze flicked to meet Sokka’s, then away. He heaved in a deeper breath.

Sokka risked a hand on his arm, pushing it gently down. He pressed their foreheads together,
so Zuko had no choice but to look at him. They breathed in tandem for a moment.

Then Zuko sucked in an audible breath, really seeing him now. “Sokka?”

“Yeah, buddy. We’re okay. You with me?”

He sounded shaky. He felt shaky. Sokka didn’t know if he had it in him to talk someone else
down from the ledge when he was half hanging off it himself.

He blinked as images flickered in his vision. Strangely, the smell of vomit was helping. That
was now, that was here. He would deal with the embarrassment of throwing up all over Zuko
later. For now, he focused on the horrid smell of it.

“Sokka!” His dad again.

“Leave them, Hakoda. Let them go.”

Go. That was a good idea. “Back to the tent,” Sokka said, “I want to go to the tent.”

Zuko nodded, jerky and still vibrating with tension.

They got up, clinging to each other. Sokka was very aware of all the eyes on them. Men still
with weapons drawn, shocked by his fear and the sudden violence.

Later. He would deal with it later. Now he needed them to be somewhere else.
Back in the comforting closed dark of the tent, Sokka let himself start to shake. What the
fuck had just happened?

The smell of vomit was oppressive, and he helped strip Zuko out of his soiled shirt. Unsure
what to do with it, he just slung it outside of the tent flap. Zuko cleaned himself up, quiet and
tense, then he sat next to the bedroll and stared at his knees.

Sokka washed the puke off his own face and changed into a fresh shirt. Then he crawled over
Zuko and into the bedroll, pulling the blanket over himself. It was better, but worse, too. No
distractions in the dark. What the fuck was that? Just what the fuck? He didn’t realise he had
spoken aloud until Zuko tugged up the covers and climbed in beside him, pulling them back
up over their heads. It was better with him there, with the sound of his breathing and the
warmth of his skin. It felt safer, like the polar bear-dog dens he had Katara had built to hide in
as children.

“What the fuck?” he said again, in the hopes the universe would answer him.

“What happened?” Zuko asked. His voice low and his breath brushing over Sokka’s skin.

“I don’t know. I think I hallucinated, but it was a memory. It felt real. Like it was...like it was
happening right then. I forgot it was in the past.”

Zuko hummed a little. “My uncle called it a reliving. When something bad happens,
sometimes, you go back to it in your mind.”

“Why?” He wanted to ask, wasn’t once enough? But instead he just took deep breaths. “Will it
happen again?” he said, scared he knew the answer.

“Maybe. Probably.”

Sokka shut his eyes and tried to force the images away, the flashes of real and imagined
torments. It wasn’t like the reliving, but it was still awful. “Why were you talking to your
uncle about it, did it happen to you?”

“Yeah. Not like that, though. Just bits. I would be doing something and then I could smell…I
could smell my skin burning. My hair,” he trailed off, laying quiet in the dark, his shoulders
brushing Sokka’s. “I could see his face. The way he looked at me just before…” He sucked in
a wobbly breath. “It’s weird, because I didn’t remember those things after. Not until they
came back to me like that.”

Spirits, Sokka didn’t want to think about how that must have felt. He knew what being
burned was like, he knew that far too well, but all at once, and on the face. He shuddered.
Sokka wanted to ask who ‘he’ was, but held himself back, because he didn’t want
confirmation. The extra layer of hate and anger that he would feel having his suspicions
confirmed was more than he could handle today. And they would be confirmed. There was
only one person who would have the authority to mutilate a prince. A child prince. Fucking
despicable.

He wanted to say something, but he couldn’t find the words. So he grabbed Zuko and pulled
him closer. Zuko went easily, curling an arm around Sokka’s chest and resting his head on his
shoulder. Sokka liked the way it felt, holding him like this. Zuko was so hurt, but also so full
of determination and strength. Sokka liked it, because despite what had just happened,
despite his shame, it made him feel like he was the one being strong, offering comfort.

“Your breath smells like puke,” Zuko said, into the quiet dark.

“Thanks for letting me know. That makes me feel much better.”

“Sorry.”

“Yeah, well. Sorry I threw up on you.”

“It’s fine.”

“Having sick on you is gross, though.”

“It’s fine!” Zuko snarled, giving credence to Sokka’s theory that it was, in fact, not fine, but
he was trying to be nice. Which was weirdly sweet of him.

Sokka wondered if he should bring up the stabbing thing. He was certain that his father had
not been seriously hurt, but he felt conflicted about it. Stabbing his dad was a big no no. On
the other hand, Zuko lashing out in his defence was something that made him feel warm and
strangely safe. No one had stopped what had happened to them. Taiju had acted, eventually,
but it had been far too late. No one had been there, no one had tried to help him except for
Zuko.

So yeah. His feelings were conflicted.

“What do you think happened to Taiju?” he asked, and immediately wished he hadn’t.

“Probably best not to think about it,” Zuko said quietly.

“You think they found out and killed him?”

“Probably. He knew that’s what the most likely outcome would be.”

“So why did he do it?”

“I don’t know.”

The quiet stretched, and Sokka let his body relax, feeling the shakiness ease out of his bones.
He ran his fingers over the rough scars on Zuko’s bare back, reminding himself that what he
had seen in his reliving had resulted in these, not the other thing. But it didn’t really help,
because that had happened to him anyway.
Whenever he thought about it, and he tried very hard not to, Sokka’s brain liked to provide
him with horrible images of what might have gone on in the time Zuko had been in Zhao’s
cabin. It had been hours, maybe six to eight, by his estimate. He wasn’t sure if knowing the
details would be better or worse than letting his imagination run wild. Probably worse. At
least this way he could convince himself he was wrong, and it hadn’t been so bad.

“Why are you doing that?” Zuko asked. His voice was a little muffled against Sokka’s shirt.

“I don’t know. I can stop.” Sokka stilled his fingers with an effort.

“It’s okay,” Zuko said. “Can I...?” He helpfully didn’t finish the sentence, either unable to
verbalise or ask for what he wanted.

“Yeah,” Sokka said, taking his life into his hands. He could be asking for anything from a hug
to permission to punch Sokka in the balls. Turned out it was neither of these things. Instead,
one of Zuko’s hands snuck up to cradle the side of Sokka’s head. Then he started softly
rubbing the newly shorn hair.

Baffled, Sokka didn’t react. It took him a moment to try to categorise what was happening. It
wasn’t an effort to comfort him, or even an attempt at something tender. Zuko was petting
him, the same way he had the ostrich horses, dragging his fingers over the short hair at the
back of Sokka’s head, while his palm rubbed against the side. It was surprisingly gentle by
Zuko standards. Sokka wondered if he found it soothing in some way.

The sensation was rather pleasant, so Sokka tilted his head to the side slightly to allow better
access and pushed his face into Zuko’s soft, thick hair where his head lay resting on Sokka’s
shoulder. He had a weird frisson and a feeling of reality shifting again, with the realisation of
how ridiculously intimate this was. He was hiding under a blanket with his lips pressed to the
crown of Zuko’s head. Zuko, who two months ago was pretty much the bane of his existence.
If he had learned of his death then, Sokka probably would have raised his cup in a toast to the
universe. How was that terrifying, hateful soldier now just a hurt boy hiding under the covers
with him and petting his head like it was a cat? How was that Fire Nation soldier, the same
person who allowed himself to be humiliated, who got down on his knees and begged for
Sokka to be spared pain? How?

“This is weird,” Sokka said, unable to fully express the strangeness.

“Which part, specifically?”

Sokka snorted softly. “All of it.” He shoved Zuko over so he could see his face, although he
could barely make it out in the darkness. “I hated you. For months you were the embodiment
of everything that’s hurt me. And now we’re cuddling under a blanket.”

“It’s not cuddling.”

“Look, outside of this blanket fort, I will deny it to my dying breath, but in here, I will admit
that it is definitely cuddling. If you think it isn’t, you’re deluded.”

“Do you still hate me?”

“No, of course not, you moron,” Sokka said, a little frustrated, then he sighed, “Zuko...” he
bonked their foreheads together, a little harder than intended. But then, Zuko had a hard head
in every sense of the word, so perhaps the extra force was necessary. “Do you hate me?” He
asked.

“No. I never hated you. You were just in my way.”

“Thanks. That makes a man feel so valued.” Sokka could feel Zuko shrug in the darkness.

“We’re still not on the same side, Sokka.”

“Yeah, I know. But right now, I don’t think that matters. What’s important is both of us
getting through this and getting better. We can figure out the future later. For now, we’re still
Team Steam.”

“And I still strongly object to that name.”

“Noted and ignored.”

Zuko was quiet for a few moments, thinking. “Let’s never tell anyone about the cuddling,” he
said after a moment.

Sokka grinned. “See, that’s why we make a good team. What happens in the blanket fort
stays in the blanket fort. Outside we deny everything.”

“We never cuddled,” Zuko reiterated solemnly.

“Exactly. And we didn’t have any heart to hearts or pet each other in weird but strangely
comforting ways.” He decided not to mention that they had been sleeping in each other’s
arms every night since their escape, and that a good handful of people had seen that, and
would no doubt continue to see it, as Sokka had every intention of keeping Zuko as his
personal, cantankerous comfort blanket.

“Pinky swear?” Zuko asked.

Ugh how could he possibly feel this soft and affectionate towards Zuko. It boggled Sokka’s
mind to the point he felt a little divorced from reality. “Pinky swear,” he said, and they did
the ritual finger linking, before Sokka pulled Zuko’s head back onto his shoulder. “Now I
propose we hide in here until tomorrow. And then we can deal with the fallout from today’s
disasters.”

“Okay.”

Tomorrow came too quickly, and not in a way Sokka wanted.

“Sokka? Zuli?” Shen’s voice.

Sokka struggled to detangle himself from Zuko and stick his head out the top of the pile of
blankets. When he did so, there was a rush of noise, men calling and the clanking of armour.
He was surprised he had slept through it. “What? What’s happening?” he said, wincing as
Zuko elbowed him in the chest while getting his own head out of the blankets.

Shen looked calm, but serious. “We’re moving. Get up, get dressed.”

“Moving where?” Sokka asked, confused.

“Moving why?” Zuko asked almost at the same time. He looked entertainingly dishevelled,
with creases on his face from where he had been resting with his head on Sokka’s shirt.

Shen pursed his lips, his attention already drawn to something outside the tent. “Fire Nation
knows our position. We have to go.”

Sokka felt fear flood his veins. Beside him, Zuko began scrabbling free of the covers.

“Don’t panic, we’re not under attack,” Shen said. “But our location isn’t the best. If we’re
going to fight, we need to get to more defeasible terrain. Get yourselves ready, and I’ll help
you take down the tent.” He ducked back outside.

Sokka was momentarily paralysed with terror. They were supposed to be safe.

“Sokka, up,” Zuko snapped at him. He was pulling on a fresh shirt, and trying to roll the
bedding before Sokka was even fully out of it. Sokka had slept in his clothes, so he didn’t
waste time changing them. Packing up was fast, neither of them had any belongings, they just
rolled up the bedding and bolted from the tent.

The camp was in motion. There were men moving, packing up, barking orders and milling
around in an organised chaos that made Sokka’s head spin. He had not really appreciated how
many people were here.

Shen headed towards them as soon as he spotted them, his long legs eating up the ground
fast.

“Where’s my father?” Sokka demanded, his fear making his words sharp.

“Seeing to his men. I told him I would keep an eye on the pair of you. Once he has things
under control, he’ll join us.”

“Are we under attack? Or will we be?”

“I don’t think so, not yet. But I don’t trust them not to try something sneaky.” He handed
them some sort of cloth headgear each and passed Sokka a wide helmet. “Put these on.”

“Why?”

“We outnumber them. They will not attack us directly, but we are vulnerable on the move.
They want to kill Zuli, and they don’t need to get close to put an arrow through his skull. The
helmet offers a little protection, and will make you harder to spot.”
“Oh,” Sokka said weakly. They put the headgear on. Part of him wanted to laugh at the way
the white headdress thing looked above Zuko’s scowl. But his amusement was stuck in his
throat like a fishbone.

Shen leaned forward towards Zuko and pulled the flaps of the headdress further forward,
covering his scar from view from the side. Then he placed the helmet on his head, thumping
it down gently with his fist.

Zuko didn’t object. He looked angry, which was his default expression to cover any other
feelings he might be having, but Sokka knew him well enough to recognise the fear
underneath it. Shen seemed to see it too. And he clapped Zuko on the shoulder. “I’m not
going to let the bastards get you, either of you, okay? You will be travelling in the middle of
the group. Just keep your heads down and stay alert. You’ll be okay.”

“I can look after myself,” Zuko snapped at him, shrugging away from his touch.

“I know you can. Those were fast reflexes you had yesterday. Snapping the chopsticks was
some quick thinking, too.”

Zuko blanched a little at being reminded of that. “What will my punishment be?” he asked.
And Sokka realised there was another reason they should have discussed the stabbing. Zuko’s
experience with people, and with fathers in particular, was a bit different to Sokka’s and
things might be easily…misinterpreted.

“No punishment. It was an accident and there was no serious harm done. You were trying to
defend Hakoda’s son. The man understands that.”

Zuko didn’t look convinced, but they had other problems right now.

The stable master brought them an ostrich horse, big and brown and grumpy looking. It
pulled towards Zuko and nearly knocked his helmet off, making a weird low sound deep in
its throat. Zuko absently petted its mean looking beak.

“Both of you ride this one. I have to Check in with General Huang and make sure
preparations are going smoothly, but I’ll travel with you once we’re on the move.”

Zuko nodded and hopped into the saddle, nimble as a cat. He reached down a hand for Sokka.

“Why do you get to ride at the front?” he asked. More for something to say than out of any
real complaint.

“Do you know how to ride an ostrich horse?”

“No.” Sokka gripped his warm hand tightly and allowed himself to be pulled up.

“There’s your answer.”

Sokka wrapped his arms around Zuko’s waist, holding on to his shirt tightly. Zuko moved his
leg slightly, and the animal lurched forward, heading for the rest of the mounted men who
watched them approach. One man nudged his bird to meet them. “I’m Haoyu of the 54th
 company. Ride with me until the captain joins us,” he said with a small smile. His uniform
was a little different, and his feet were bare. An earthbender. That made Sokka feel a little
more secure, although he doubted it would do the same for Zuko.

Today was not shaping up to be a good one.

Chapter End Notes

Sorry it has taken me even longer that normal to reply to comments, it has been a hectic
couple of weeks >.< but I love and treasure every one of them! Thank you!

Next chapter, we visit with Katara, touch base with the bad guys, and Sokka learns a
very dubious story about the Blue Spirit.
 Chapter 7
Chapter Summary

He really was a vindictive, spiteful little shit and Sokka approved wholeheartedly.

Chapter Notes

Warnings for this chapter: Some causal misogyny, references to the bad things that
happen to women in war and in occupied territory. Vague references to torture.

Many thanks to my beta burkesl17, who has managed to wrangle my dyslexic nonsense.
All mistakes are my own.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Ro didn’t particularly like Chen. He was odd and strangely impassive, which made him hard
to manipulate. He only ever really became animated when he got to kill something, and even
then it was more a brightness in his eyes. Still, he was obedient, and had not objected when
Ro had been promoted above him for this mission.

“Will we attack them?” Chen asked, in his bored, disinterested voice. He was standing to
attention, so still he barely looked like he was breathing.

Ro found he rather enjoyed being in charge. His promotion was a good start, and if he
succeeded in his mission, then his path was suddenly a lot clearer. Of course, if he failed, his
head was on the block.

So, he had to be clever.

He leaned back in his rickety chair as it tilted slightly on the uneven ground. “No, not
directly. There are too many of them to be sure of success, and they’re ready for us.” He
tapped the map in front of him with a finger. “We are going to run them, like a wolf runs a
herd of fox antelope. We’ll wait for an opportunity to separate the weak from the crowd.
Divide and conquer, you know the drill.”

Chen looked a little disappointed.

“Of course, if you see an opportunity to take out Zuko or Hakoda, then take it. If it can be
achieved, I want you to at least bring me the little water rat alive. Any of them alive would be
good. But dead is better than free, you understand?”

Chen nodded, his eyes on the map.

“We can turn this situation into a win if we play things correctly. We can cripple the fleet,
take out some key players, do away with the Zuko problem, and perhaps get prisoners for
interrogation. We can achieve these things with patience and a bit of cunning.” Ro was quite
pleased with that speech. He was good at words, it was just a shame his only audience was
Chen, who had all the emotion of a roughly hewn block of wood.

“What if they spread the news of Zuko’s survival?” Chen asked.

“They won’t. Simply because they don’t know who he is. If they did, they would have either
executed him or sent a message out to their commanders celebrating their find. They have
done neither. In fact, from what the scouts report, he’s been integrated into the camp. How
the rude, entitled, little bastard managed that, I will never know.” He shook his head.

One good thing about the Fire Lord trying to make the world forget he ever had a son, was
that even most of the people in the Fire Nation had no idea what he looked like. His
execution had been ordered quickly and quietly, and it had caused barely a ripple. There were
rumours, of course, but they were about his death, not his survival. The people who might
spill the beans if he somehow escaped and resurfaced were the crew from his old ship, so Ro
had given the order that they be located in the fleet and quietly…removed. Zuko wouldn’t
remain free long enough to cause trouble though. It was only a matter of time until they had
him.

Thoughts of Zuko used to bring up bubbling, indignant rage. Memories of the brat attacking
him and ordering him off his shitty ship like a common criminal infuriated him. But now they
were tempered by other, much better memories. Giving him a beating while he had to stand
and take it, watching him put his face to the floor and apologise to Zhao, that had been good
too. It would have been better if he had been apologising to Ro, maybe under the heel of his
boot. But he would take what he could get.

That whole affair was slightly confusing for Ro, he couldn’t quite fathom why Zuko had
debased himself for the water rat. He would have thought the arrogant little shit would have
fought to the bitter end.

“So what do we do now?” Chen asked, breaking Ro from his reminiscing before he got to the
best part. He scowled, annoyed.

Chen was impervious, as always. “As you say, there are not enough of us to attack. Even if
we ambushed them, we’re still at a disadvantage,” he said.

Ro let a small smile stretch across his face. “We may not be able to be explicit about who we
are hunting for or why, but we are not without allies. I have sent a message to general Tsing.
He will provide men, amongst other things.”

Chen showed an expression finally. Mild confusion. “Why would he help? He only does
things that benefit him.”
“That’s very true,” Ro said indulgently. “And we can’t tell him about Zuko, but he will send
what I ask of him. In exchange, we will provide him with the Blue Spirit, with whom he has a
personal vendetta.” Chen’s expression of confusion didn’t lift. “It doesn’t matter who it is,
any Earth Kingdom trash will do. He never needs to know the true identity of his nemesis. He
can murder the captive and the Blue Spirit will be dead anyway when we get rid of Zuko.”

Chen nodded. “So we run them and trap them. Capture, or kill as a last resort.”

“Yes.” Ro knew, given the chance, Chen would kill both Zuko and the Water Tribe kid, but
Ro was still hoping that they might be taken alive. At least for a day or two. In an ideal
world, he would take Hakoda too. Make him watch his son beg and bleed. Zhao wanted the
boy alive, something to do with setting a trap for the Avatar, but Ro knew how to hurt
without killing. He would only wish he was dead.

He leaned back in his chair again, thinking about the possibilities. Zuko, of course, would
have to die quickly, before he could be handed over to Zhao, but perhaps he could get a few
hours of fun out of him first.

He smiled at the thought.

………………………

Iroh was a strange addition to the group. And it turned out that having an imperial firebender
on the team was a mixed bag of blessings and curses. On one hand, it was suddenly very easy
to light a fire, and he was formidable in a fight. On the other hand, his yellow eyes were…not
subtle. In many places they had been, this would probably not have been noticeable, but it
seemed the closer they got to the occupied territory, the more often it was spotted.

When Katara had suggested buying him a hat that shaded his face somewhat, Aang had taken
to the idea a little too enthusiastically and they had ended up with a brightly coloured
monstrosity with an aviary’s worth of feathers stuck in it. It did the job, though, and Iroh
seemed to enjoy it for some bizarre reason. It was annoyingly endearing. A lot of things
about him were. He helped with laundry, hunted until he found a few teas that suited Katara’s
palate, he joined in with Aang’s enthusiasm for the world and was kind and compassionate to
the people they met, no matter who they were. It made it hard to reconcile with the fact he
was an enemy prince.

But the thing she appreciated most were the times of quiet grief between them. Aang never
stopped to feel his own horrible losses. It was almost like if he paused long enough for it to
hit him, he would be pulled under by it. There was no time for him to mourn a whole people,
lost in the blink of his eye. The thought of that tugged and grated on Katara’s heart. He
needed to be moving forward in order to make it through the next six months. He would have
to process in his own time.
She couldn’t. She wasn’t like that and had to feel a little at a time. The deep, awful sadness
was always with her. It hadn’t really come out yet. She cried sometimes, but the anger was so
sharp it frightened her. The darkness of her loss had slid into her soul like a knife, alongside
the black hole left by her mother’s death. She knew if she let that grief go, it would consume
her. So instead she meditated with Iroh, allowed herself a few moments to feel the pain, to
grapple with her loss.

Iroh was sitting by the fire, watching Aang practice. He always seemed fascinated by Aang’s
bending. It made Katara a little nervous, even though she trusted him. Mostly.

“He’s very powerful,” Katara said, breaking the stillness between them.

“He is a vast ocean of power,” Iroh agreed.

“Are you a strong bender, Uncle? As strong as Zuko?” It always felt weird to bring him up,
but Iroh seemed to get some solace from discussing his nephew, so Katara made a point not
to avoid his name when she could have, and she tried not to be too mean when she spoke
about him.

Iroh stroked his beard, which was becoming full, the points of his sideburns slowly blending
with the hair on his chin. “I am a strong bender, stronger than my nephew was. He was not
powerful, for our family at least, which has produced some of the strongest benders in
generations.”

Katara made a face. “He seemed like a very formidable opponent to me, at least at first, but
then I guess I got better at bending, and he didn’t seem so scary.”

Iroh shook his head. “I do him a disservice. He was not as powerful as his father or sister, or
myself, but he had the potential to be. Bending came late to him, and he struggled with it.”

“I bet his dad loved that.”

“Indeed.” Iroh looked pained. “He practiced and practised and read and studied. But it
seemed to be like forcing a square peg through a round hole. It was almost as if there was a
blockage. Despite the fact he had become very proficient, it was hard for him in a way it
shouldn’t have been.” He turned to smile at her, his face sad. “But being a good bender is not
about how much raw power you have. It is what you do with it. And I did see him bend well,
exceptionally well at times, but usually when fighting against people who were not
firebenders.” He paused, considering. “I suspect because he would have to react, and not
think about specific forms. He was certainly quick and creative when fighting with swords. I
think perhaps the problem was in the teaching, rather than the student.”

Katara thought of Sokka, learning to use his boomerang. How hard he had tried, desperate to
push ahead, be better, be stronger, until his hands were blistered and sore. “How do you know
he had so much potential if he was struggling?” She asked, although her thoughts were still
with her brother. She shuddered away from the thought of him under the ocean. Sometimes,
when she was trying to sleep, she would see images of him, alone with the Fire Nation dead.
Cold and dark.

As if sensing her mood, Iroh stoked the fire a little. “I could feel it. The way I can feel the life
and energy in Aang. In the Fire Nation, we call this our inner fire. Because of the name,
people believe this is a thing that only benders possess. This is untrue. Everyone, every living
thing has this power, this energy. In the Earth Kingdom, they would call it Chi.”

“We call it that too. It’s what we use to bend,” Katara said. “I spoke about it with the healer in
the North Pole and Master Pakku.”

“Whether a person can bend or not does not depend on the amount of Chi they have, but a
bender can use this inner fire to fuel their bending.”

Katara nodded. “There was no one to teach me bending back in the South Pole, but Chi is
something that we spoke of. When I was young, I was playing with my brother, out on the
edge of the sea ice.” She remembered the sounds it made as it cracked and groaned with the
beginning of the summer sun. The unique smell of the warmer weather hitting the melting
snows. “Ice from the cliff had melted, and it slid down. I was trapped under it. I don’t
remember what happened. My brother ran for help and when my mother found me, she
moved the ice. Later, my dad and Bato tried to lift it to clear the way, and even together they
couldn’t. Panuk, our healer, said it was her Chi, bolstered by her fear for me, that enabled her
to do something impossible.”

“Yes,” Iroh nodded. “Zuko’s inner fire was incredibly strong, it was an inferno. Although he
struggled to translate it into bending, he used it in other ways without even realising it.
Combined with the force of will, it can help a person do things they should not be able to. I
once saw my nephew use the heel of his boot to break a chain as thick as his wrist. One
kick.” He shook his head. “He didn’t even seem to understand how unusual that was. If he
could have found a way to bend that used this skill…” Iroh sighed. “He would never have
matched his sister in pure power, focus, or raw talent, she is unique in that regard, but he
might have come close.”

“So, it’s rare to have that much…inner fire?”

“Aside from the Avatar, who is a special case, and Zuko and his sister, I have only ever met
one other person with that much fire in them.”

“Your brother?”

“You, Katara. I can not sense your bending, but I can feel your Chi. There is a storm inside
you, one that could have matched Zuko’s inferno.”

She blinked at him. “Me? I know I can bend well, I can fight and I can heal, although I have a
lot to learn. But I don’t feel like I have anything different from say, Master Pakku.” She
thought about it a little more. “So could I kick through a metal chain too, then?”

“I don’t know! It is possible Zuko was using some technique he learned during his sword
training, or even something he read. If you tried without understanding, you may just end up
with a bruised foot.” He busied himself with making a pot of tea. He favoured some simple
ones, like ginseng, but he also liked some spicy flavours too. Katara had not enjoyed them at
first taste, although she had liked the smell. They were growing on her, though.

Iroh took a sip and exhaled in satisfaction. “I do not believe in destiny in the same way my
nephew did, but I also do not believe it is chance that you, a young woman with such life
energy, was the one that found the Avatar. I suspect when you meet them, Aang’s
earthbending teacher will have an equal amount of…punch.”

“You think it was meant to happen? Sokka and I finding Aang?” Katara nodded to herself.
“To be honest, I feel like that’s the case. Sokka…” She took a deep breath. Unlike Iroh, who
liked to speak of his loss, she did not. It was still too raw, like an open wound. “Sokka didn’t.
He said it was chance and that anything else was just nonsense and wishful thinking.”

“Your brother sounds like he was a very sensible boy. Perhaps he was right to some extent.”

She nodded, throat tight. Sensible right up until the point he decided to go on that stupid
mission. What had he been thinking? She forced the feeling down, the sadness and the fury. A
storm indeed. “Like how you do and don’t believe in destiny?”

Iroh chuckled. “I believe the forces in the universe lay out the board, they place the pieces.
But the players are the ones that move them. If you don’t take action, nothing will get done.
The Avatar may be the exception to this rule, I suspect if he chose inaction and hid away in a
cave somewhere, the action would come to him. But the rest of us? It is our own choices that
direct our destiny.” He breathed out, long and sad and shut his eyes, the lines on his face
deepening with pain. “But then, I am just an old, grieving man, who wished to see hope for
his kin. Perhaps I am wrong.”

“I don’t think you are,” Katara told him, laying a gentle hand on his arm. “Please, may I have
another cup of tea?” He had honestly thought he would be able to change Zuko’s point of
view. He had believed he was meant to join them, or at least, that the option was open. She
still doubted it, but she would never challenge him on it. He deserved some small comfort in
his grief.

…………………..

They had been travelling steadily for days with no sign of the Fire Nation soldiers. The
bastards were there though, Shen was certain of it, staying just out of reach and out of sight.
It was unnerving.

Even as his own anxiety grew with each passing moment, the boys had relaxed a little after a
few days on the road with no incidents. It helped that the 54th Company seemed to have taken
to them. Sokka, because he was a gregarious smart-arse, and Zuli because his prickly, snappy
nature was entertaining. The kid could pack a lot of vitriol into a few words and did not hold
back on his displeasure about pretty much everything. Add that to the fact he had a tongue
that could strip paint off a wall, and you had a lot of very amused soldiers.

The rumours had helped too, and people were looking at him a little differently. But they
were also just getting used to him and his aggressive yellow eyed staring. He was becoming a
normal part of people’s day.

Zuli had also taught Sokka how to ride the ostrich horse, and the kid had insisted on riding in
front ever since.

“I am the bird master, a lone rider,” Sokka was saying as Shen approached to check in. The
path they were traveling was wide, and they could move in a solid group, which he much
preferred. The forest felt too dense, too close to feel safe.

“Sokka, how can you be a lone rider when I am literally sitting behind you?” Zuli groused.
Shen couldn’t see his face, but he could hear the pout.

Sokka held a cupped hand up to his ear. “Sometimes I hear the whisper of words as I travel,
but I ignore them, like the lone rider that I am.”

“I wish you were the lone rider, then perhaps the rest of us might get some peace.”

“Whisper, whisper….”

Haoyu and Yuxuan, two of the youngest of his company, were grinning at the boy’s antics,
failing to keep an eye on the surrounding forest. He would have to have words later, they
would have a lot less fun with an arrow through the head.

“You’re insufferable,” Zuli told Sokka in a very serious voice.

“Perhaps, but you will notice I am also an extremely skilled ostrich horse rider.”

Shen saw Zuli shift his leg and dig a gentle heel into the ostrich horse’s flank, making her
jump forward and skip to the right with a lurching hop. Sokka was flung onto her neck,
clinging to her feathers with both hands. He would have fallen off completely if not for the
fist his friend had tangled in his shirt. Zuli was smirking, a pleased little smile, a rare
expression on his face. The boy clearly did have a sense of humour under all the trauma and
the anger.

“You did that! I don’t know how, but you did!” Sokka accused.

“No I didn’t.”

“You remain a terrible liar, Zuli.”

Zuli tapped the ostrich horse again, making her skip left this time. Sokka yelped and flopped
forward, clinging to the neck feathers she was ruffling angrily at him. Shen got the distinct
impression that she didn’t like Sokka much.
“Captain Shen!” Shen turned to see Panuk approaching, perched awkwardly atop his own
bird. He did not look comfortable.

“Do you need assistance, Healer Panuk?" Shen asked politely, as he rode to meet him. He
liked Panuk and enjoyed his company, but he was aware that Hakoda had probably sent him
to keep an eye on things. The man was understandably upset about the boys travelling with
Shen’s company rather than his own. Although he had not said anything, Shen could feel it.
He could sense it in Hakoda’s gaze as he watched them whenever the two parties intersected
as they travelled. But it had been the boys’ choice. Zuli still seemed convinced he would
suffer some retribution for the chopsticks incident, and nothing Shen could say would sway
him from his fear. Sokka, meanwhile, was flat out avoiding his father.

To make matters worse, he was following Shen around like a puppy when the camp was at
rest. Running his messages, doing inventory for the 54th. Shen was not completely sure of
Sokka’s motives. On one hand, he was clearly using Shen to have a dig at his dad, which was
a little awkward for Shen’s budding friendship with Hakoda, but on the other hand, he
suspected he was being sussed out, assessed.

That was fair enough, his own motives for spending time with the kids were muddled
between his personal desire to see them safe and healed, and his duty to monitor Zuli, who
was still something of an unknown, and also of potential use to the general. Shen really
hoped that it wouldn’t come to Huang attempting to use the boy as bait to lure the admiral
out, but he knew it was a distinct possibility. If they were going down that route, then Huang
would need someone Zuli trusted to persuade him.

Panuk’s ostrich horse wobbled up to walk beside Shen’s. He smiled at Shen, although it was
more of a grimace. “I admit I would feel better using my own feet than those of this…
animal,” he said.

“They take a bit of getting used to,” Shen admitted easily. “You come to check on your
patients?”

“Yes. Has there been any other…unpleasantness?”

Shen shook his head, looking towards where the boys had resumed arguing. Sokka had
twisted round in the saddle to look at his friend and wag a finger in his face. Zuli looked
moments away from biting it off.

“Nothing like what happened the other night. Although Sokka has been exhibiting other signs
of battle fatigue. Or whatever you call it in the Water Tribes.”

Panuk nodded. “Such as?”

“They’re both jumpy, startling easy. Sokka zones out, he doesn’t seem to realise he’s doing
it.” He leant forward and patted his own bird’s neck. “Neither of them seem to be sleeping
particularly well either, from what I can gather without asking directly. Sokka is having
nightmares, and as they are sharing a tent...” And indeed, a bedroll. “Zuli is not sleeping
much either.”
“And Li, anything else to be concerned about?”

Shen shrugged, his armour feeling heavy on his shoulders. “It’s honestly hard to tell. He’s
averse to being touched by anyone who is not Sokka, and for the most part, people respect
that. I have had to have a word with a couple of the more enthusiastic men after Yuxuan
nearly lost an arm for slapping him on the back. But it’s hard to tell what’s his natural way of
being and what’s this most recent trauma. Of course, he has clearly had previous trauma as
well.” He shrugged again, a bit helplessly. “I think he’s just a really messed up kid.”

Panuk pursed his lips and nodded. “They’re eating okay?”

“They are eating more than okay. They are eating me out of house and home. I have rarely
seen people so small consume so much food in a sitting.” He huffed out a little laugh. Meal
times were quite impressive to witness. “Although it’s never Zuli that asks for more food.”

“Sokka?”

“Oh yeah, and everyone feels sorry for him being so obviously starved, so they get fed extra
whenever Sokka asks. And then Zuli packs away a phenomenal amount. Even more than
Sokka manages.”

“Growing boys,” Panuk said. But his eyes were narrowed, thinking.

Perhaps it was another symptom of their experiences that Shen should be monitoring better?
“You want to speak to them? Just go right up, you have free rein to move through my
Company.”

“Thank you, Captain. Will you accompany me?”

Shen smiled. “Yeah, of course.”

“Panuk!” Sokka said when he caught sight of the healer. “Please tell me you’re not here to
feed us more horrible potions?”

“No, you’re safe from that today, Sokka. I wish to look at your burns if I may? And Li’s?”

“I don’t need you to look at them,” Zuli said with his usual sullenness. “I have experience in
burn care.”

Panuk nodded, his eyes sliding across the scar. “Yes, I’m sure you do. Very well, I have some
salve for you to use that may help any lingering discomfort and ease the tightness in the skin.
I was also wondering if you would like oil for them? And for your face.”

Shen winced a little internally. Most people avoided mentioning or looking too obviously at
the large disfiguring mark. But Panuk seemed to be immune to social niceties when it came
to the health of his patients.

Zuli was just staring at him, blank faced. Panuk held out his scared and twisted arm. “The
skin is tight and itchy sometimes. Keeping it moisturised with the oil helps alleviate the
feeling. It hurts sometimes too, and massaging it helps.” He pointed towards Zuli’s face with
one of his remaining, burnt fingers. “Did you not have a similar routine before your capture?”

“Yes,” Zuli admitted. “I used oil on it.”

“Does it cause you pain?”

Zuli shrugged. “Sometimes. I get headaches and my eye gets dry.”

Sokka turned in his seat again. “You never said. Why didn’t you ask for oil, for fu…” he
glanced at Panuk and corrected himself, like he was still a kid. “...For crying out loud,” he
finished a little lamely.

“It’s fine.”

“I hate those words when they come out of your mouth, I really do. I, for one, would love
some cream to stop the itching. My arms are driving me mad. They don’t really hurt much,
but the skin feels weird.”

Panuk nodded. “Perhaps Li can help massage them for you. It can help desensitise the skin.”

“Will you massage my arms for me, Li?” Sokka asked, batting his eyelashes like a fool. Zuli
blushed and Sokka started laughing at him, pointing a finger at his flushed cheeks.

“Come on Li, it’s not that bad!” Sokka said, “You have to make some sacrifices to your
dignity in a friendship!” He seemed to be under the impression that the pink staining Zuli’s
face was due to indignation. Shen didn’t think it was, though.

Neither did Panuk, judging from the little smile on his face as he handed Zuli a small sack of
clanking items, no doubt bottles and tubs of ointment. He leant too far over as he did so and
nearly fell out of his saddle. Zuli’s hand shot out to catch him. “Be careful, old man,” he
snapped.

“I’m not that old, you brat,” Panuk said, righting himself. “But thank you for the rescue.”

Zuli snorted at him rudely.

Sokka grinned. “Will you ride with us until we set up camp?” he asked.

“I would love to.”

The evening camp was set up quickly, soldiers looking forward to relaxing tired muscles and
eating a warm dinner tended to work fast. The boys both had their routines down by this
point, Sokka heading off to check the supplies, and Zuli helping to get the birds settled and
fed. It was one of the few times they were not joined at the hip, so Shen took the opportunity
to speak to Zuli alone. He had meant to raise the issue a day or so ago, but he just hadn’t had
time.
“Zuli?”

The kid turned and gave him a flat look at the use of the name. “Yes, Lieutenant?”

“It’s captain,” Shen corrected him, although he clearly knew that.

Zuli raised his single eyebrow. “Is it?” he asked, archly and went back to feeding his bird.

Shen tried and probably failed to hold back his grin. Cheeky little shit. “She’s going to get fat
if you keep feeding her like that,” he said instead of challenging him.

“Good. She deserves to be fat and happy,” Zuli said, petting her beak. “Having to drag Sokka
around with her all day and putting up with his terrible riding.”

“She’s going to be so round the pair of you will just fall off her.” The big hen glared at him
over the kid’s shoulder, like she knew he was besmirching her good name.

“Can I help you with something?” Zuli grumbled at him.

“No, but I thought perhaps I can help you with something. Hakoda said you wanted a sword
for Sokka? When you have finished here, come join me at the armoury and you can choose
one for him.”

Zuli brightened, his right eye widening a little. Then it narrowed into a frown. “Do I have to
ask Hakoda?”

Shen sighed. “No, but I have asked him to meet us there, as it was his decision to arm the pair
of you.”

Zuli chewed that over for a moment. “Okay. I will see you both there in an hour.” The
dismissal was clear.

The gall of this brat.

Shen really liked him.

And he had a horrible feeling that nothing but trouble would come of it.

Shen was late to the rendezvous, a matter involving the wheels coming off a supply wagon
having taken up more time than it should have. When he arrived, there was a lot of unhappy
glaring going on. Arms Master Fu was not a member of the 54th and he was not impressed to
have Zuli turn up to look at his swords. Thankfully, two of Shen’s men had foreseen a
potential problem and accompanied him. Haoyu seemed to find the situation amusing,
whereas Lieutenant Guo just looked tired of dealing with over-excited young people.

“Arms Master Fu,” Shen greeted politely.

Fu’s scowl deepened, and so did Zuli’s. Shen resisted the urge to rub away his growing
headache. This was going to be as fun as dealing with a pair of angry tigerdillos.

“Either I have permission to get a sword, or I don’t,” Zuli snapped when he saw Shen.

Fu squared his massive shoulders, clearly gearing up for a fight. “I’m not arming ashmakers,”
he snarled.

“None of that,” Guo said, with some steel in his voice. He was a short, but powerfully built
man with over thirty years of service under his belt. Even though he had never risen high
through the ranks, when he spoke, people had a tendency to listen. “The boy is under our
protection, and you will treat him with respect,” he said sternly. “Chief Hakoda said they
could have weapons, and so they will.”

Fu looked mutinous. “Chief Hakoda doesn’t run this army.”

Apparently bored with negotiations, Zuli tossed his head and exhaled loudly and
obnoxiously. “I want to see the swords. I’m looking for something slim and double edged, a
straight blade.”

“Oh you are, are you?” Fu growled at him, using his bulk to try to intimidate the boy. It did
not appear to be working.

“Yes. It’s for Hakoda’s son, not me. If you have an issue, take it up with him. I want to look
at what you have.”

“For fuck’s sake, Fu,” Shen sighed. “Let the kid look.”

Fu glared at him, but Shen outranked him and arguing was pointless. He could run to Yao,
but that would leave the weapons unguarded, and they would just take what they wanted
anyway. With some obvious reluctance, Fu backed down, gesturing towards the waggon with
the spare weaponry.

Zuli climbed up and began carefully examining the blades, occasionally picking one up to
feel the heft and balance. Shen thought he looked like he knew what he was doing, but Guo
and Haoyu were both looking at him indulgently, like he was playing at being a soldier.

Fu glared up at him. “What you described won’t be any good for infantry,” he told him, sharp
and spiteful.

“I know. Sokka won’t be fighting a pitched battle. He needs something that enables him to
utilise his size and speed to his advantage. Something that gives him some range.” Zuli had
picked up a sword, it was plain and unadorned, but he seemed quite taken with it. “This one
perhaps,” he said. He hopped off the cart and gave it a few experimental swings.

Fu was still scowling. “It’s no good against heavy armour.”

“I know. My teacher used this type of sword. I’m familiar with the Jian.”

“Your teacher any good?” Guo asked.

Zuli glanced at him, his lips tilting into a small smile. “Pretty good, yeah.”

Interesting that he had had some sort of formal training, although at his age he probably had
not been doing it for long. And also probably not recently as he had been...traveling, from
what Shen had gathered from the bits of conversation he had picked up.

Fu looked even angrier. “First ashmakers, now Water Tribe,” he muttered, and Shen turned to
see Hakoda and Sokka both making their way over.

“Li!” Sokka called when he spotted Zuli. “What have you got?” He looked excited to see his
friend, even though they had been apart for less than two hours.

Hakoda veered towards Shen. “Thanks for arranging this, Captain,” he said. He looked worn
and tired. There had been a great deal of weight on his shoulders of late.

“For me!” Sokka said at a considerable volume. “I love it!” He lunged forward to hug Zuli,
nearly impaling himself as he did so.

“Don’t grab people who are holding bladed weapons!” Zuli scolded him, as Sokka took the
sword and made a few enthusiastic stabs with it. “Stop swinging it around! You will learn to
use it properly, and you have to respect it!”

Hakoda smiled a little, partly at his son’s excitement, and partly at Zuli, who seemed to be
channeling a grumpy old man better than Fu was, which was quite impressive. “You can
choose something for yourself, too, Li,” Hakoda said. Fu looked apoplectic, but Shen noticed
he didn’t challenge Hakoda now he was actually here.

Zuli nodded and made a short motion that might have been the start of a bow with a strange
twitch of his hands, he looked momentarily annoyed and then he hopped back up into the
cart, and started digging through weapons again, while Fu ground his teeth.

Sokka was happily showing his sword to Haoyu, who as the youngest member of the
company was closest to Sokka in both age and youthful enthusiasm. There was a fair bit of
hand waving as they cooed at the blade.

“Take your time, won’t you kid,” Guo grumbled up at Zuli, who was examining the weapons
with intense consideration. “It’s almost time for dinner. Don’t want to miss it because of
some stupid swords.”

“Don’t let me keep you,” Zuli grouched back down at him, but his heart wasn’t in it, he was
too focused on the blades in his hands. A pair of twin broadswords. He was hefting and
turning them in the same way he had done for Sokka’s blade. “These will be okay,” he said at
last. Leaping down from the cart with a thump. “They need to be cared for and sharpened.
But they have good balance. With some work they will be sufficient.”

“Choose something better suited to your skill level, boy,” Fu said with disdain.

“Chief Hakoda said I could get what I want, so I will,” Zuli shot back, sheathing the swords
carefully.
“Stupid brat. Do you have any idea how hard it is to wield dual dao well? You may know
your way around weapons, but it takes years of training to be effective with them.”

“I will have these. If you have an objection, take it up with Hakoda.”

Hakoda had both eyebrows raised at the continuing exchange, apparently baffled at becoming
the centre point in the argument.

Fu snorted. “The last whippersnapper that thought to have a go with those nearly chopped his
own foot off.”

“Then he sounds like a fool,” Zuli said waspishly.

Guo rolled his eyes. “It was this moron,” he jerked a thumb at Haoyu. “Look, instead of
griping, Fu, why don’t we find someone to train the boy if he’s set on using them? The damn
things have become so popular in the last few years.” He coughed and spat, showing just
what he thought of the matter. “Just ask Haoyu, he was such a fan of that nonsense he just
had to try to learn them.” He leant in close to Zuli. “He has no coordination though, and came
close to chopping other people’s limbs off, as well as his own. So we prefer he stick to
bending.”

Haoyu looked a bit embarrassed. “Shut up, Guo, I wasn’t that bad.”

“You were,” Shen informed him cheerfully.

“You are a fan of swords?” Zuli asked slowly, his brow wrinkling in confusion.

“No,” Guo said, looking tired again. “Of that stupid vigilante crap. It’s got all the young men
riled up and trying to use twin swords, even though they haven’t mastered a single blade.
And that’s if they are not haring off to attack Fire Nation ports and get their dumb selves
killed.”

“Vigilante?” Sokka asked. Then his eyes narrowed, and his face went through a series of
interesting expressions. “What vigilante?”

“The bloody Blue Spirit, who else?” Guo grumbled. “Haoyu is such a fan, he has masks,
wanted posters, even some stupid pamphlets of stories people were putting out in one village
we went through.” He shook his head, thoroughly disgusted with the stupidity of youth. “He
has so much crap he hardly has room in his bags for his gear.”

Zuli seemed to have become very interested in his sword hilts and had a fixed expression on
his face. Shen thought he looked embarrassed, although it wasn’t surprising that a kid who
had apparently been through the kind of shit he had, ended up latching onto a vigilante for
inspiration or solace.

Sokka rubbed at his face, blinking a little. “Wait, back up, the last few years? How long has
the Blue Spirit been going? I thought he came on the scene recently, with that whole Pohuai
stronghold thing?”
“Oh no, he’s been active for a couple of years,” Haoyu said, his round face beaming with
enthusiasm. “Only around the coasts and rivers. And he only seems to go after a few specific
targets, but he has been making a nuisance of himself against the Fire Nation for long enough
to become popular with the people.”

“Reeeally?” Sokka drew the word out, tapping a finger against his chin while a grin clearly
tried to work its way over his face despite his obvious effort to hold it back. “Please, tell me
more.”

“Please don’t,” Zuli snapped, but he had a look of resignation on his face.

Guo chuckled, “You’re embarrassing the kid.”

Zuli’s expression managed to grow even more pained.

“It’s okay to look up to someone like that,” Haoyu said, reaching out a hand to clap Zuli on
the back and then wisely thinking better of it. “I do. He saved my family from a lean winter.”

“He did?” Sokka asked, “How? Are you telling me the Blue Spirit is some sort of Earth
Kingdom folk- hero?” Now he sounded disbelieving and confused. His open and expressive
face was a picture of bafflement.

“Of course!”

“Why? What did he do?”

“Do we have to?” Zuli muttered, his face scrunching up into an unhappy frown.

Sokka looked at him and cackled. “You bet your arse we do. I need details.”

“No need to be embarrassed, Li! We’ll find someone to train you in the dual dao if you are
really set on it,” Haoyu said warmly. “I was a hopeless case, but if you already have some
sword training, you’ll be fine!”

Shen was not so sure he was going to need much training. He didn’t think Zuli picked those
swords at random. He had a good eye and knew what he was looking for. Shen also
remembered Panuk’s first assessment of the boy when he was lying broken and unconscious.
Calluses on both hands, from weapons or work tools he had said. Zuli was no farm boy.
Those were from swords, Shen would bet his life on it. It was more than just that though, the
kid clearly had training, he knew how to fight. His reflexes were impressive, as he had shown
during the chopsticks incident. The fact he had snapped them, making the wood jagged and
sharp before lashing out, showed a certain amount of viciously practical thinking, andhe had
done it while half out of his mind.

“Here.” Shen handed over his own whetstone and cloth. “You can clean your swords while
Haoyu regales us with some of the Blue Spirit’s exploits.”

“Again,” Guo muttered.

“Again,” Shen agreed.

They settled around the fire with bowls of warm stew while Haoyu unpacked his bag of
ridiculous memorabilia to proudly show off to the newest members of the company.

“You’re so embarrassing,” Guo told him, but there was a look of affection on his weather-
beaten face.

Yuxuan laughed, his honey coloured eyes bright in the firelight. “Don’t be mean, old man. It
could be worse, he could be obsessed with the bottle, or girls of ill repute.”

“You may mock,” Haoyu said primly, “But if he had not done what he did, my family would
have had to give up their farm, we might have starved over the winter.” He smiled and
handed his collection of masks to Zuli when he held out a hand for them.

The boy discarded the slightly more elaborate ones and then stared at the last one. He traced a
finger over its protruding tusk-like teeth.

Sokka seemed extremely and disproportionately amused. Shen wasn’t sure if it was some sort
of inside joke he had with Zuli, who did not look like he was enjoying it so much, or if he
was making fun of Zuli’s interest in the Blue Spirit. That was the most likely option, given
their personalities.

Sokka began snickering at the collection of wanted posters. “Are we sure this is the same
person? The descriptions are different—this one says the wanted criminal is only five-feet
tall, and then this one has him at six-feet. That’s a bit of a disparity! This one for the Pohuai
stronghold attack says he is a whopping five-foot-four.”

Guo snorted. “I think the ones where he’s taller are just because no one wants to admit they
got robbed by a shrimp.”

“Or a woman,” Haoyu said, “There are some people who think it’s a woman.”

“Or a fourteen-year-old boy,” Sokka suggested, smirking. “Who hadn’t had much of a growth
spurt yet.”

“You haven’t had a growth spurt yet,” Zuli muttered petulantly. “You’re short.” He picked up
Shen’s whetstone and began working on his swords with a slightly off-putting intensity.

“You ever heard of a woman fighting like that?” Guo scoffed, ignoring the boys squabbling.

Haoyu looked indignant. “I don’t see why not. I heard there’s an entire island full of female
warriors off the west coast.”

Sokka’s face lit up. “There is! I’ve been there! Can confirm, they could kick all our arses, and
look stunning while doing it.”

“You’ve been there?” Haoyu demanded, his own face almost as excited as Sokka’s. He was
clearly thrilled at the thought of murder women fighting the good fight.

“Don’t get him started,” Yuxuan said with great amusement. “The man is desperate to meet a
woman who can beat him up. Don’t ask me why.”
“I just think a woman who could fight me would be…attractive,” Haoyu said, blushing
faintly.

“Are you such a good warrior that people can’t best you?” Zuli asked, with a certain amount
of speculative interest.

“Well no, not really.”

“So why can’t a skilled woman beat you? Or if you want to get punched by a girl so bad,
can’t you just go into town and annoy one enough she takes a swing at you?”

“Fighting a woman wouldn’t be right.”

Zuli looked perplexed and annoyed at his own bemusement. “Even if she was attacking you?
Why not?”

Haoyu also looked a little uncertain about how to answer. “Have you ever fought a woman?”

“Yeah? Plenty of times?” Zuli paused the sharpening of his blades to blink at the people
looking at him. They were staring, and his confusion was quickly turning into anger.

Sokka leaned over, digging an elbow into his ribs. “I have it on good authority you were beat
up by a fourteen-year-old girl recently,” he said, teasingly.

“She had an unfair advantage!”

The tension broke, and the soldiers started laughing. Zuli didn’t seem to know what to make
of the reaction.

“Which particular fourteen-year-old girl was this?” Hakoda asked, his eyes narrow.

“Katara,” Zuli said, apparently missing the warning signs indicating he should probably not
admit to getting into a physical fight with the man’s little girl. “She has grown into a worthy
opponent,” he said instead, tilting his head, considering. “She has a great deal of talent. But
in other circumstances, I would have won.”

Sokka poked him again. “Like if you hadn’t tried to fight a waterbender under a full moon,
on a glacier, in a snowstorm?”

Zuli sniffed. “Yes, if I had not done that, I would have beaten her.”

“If I recall correctly, you told me she froze you to a wall and knocked you silly.”

What in the world had these kids been up to? Why had Zuli been fighting a waterbender?
Actually, considering what Sokka had said about him, it was quite possible he had attempted
to fight her just to see if he could. Hakoda was wearing an expression that seemed unsure
whether he should be attempting violence or feeling proud.

Zuli gave Sokka a ferocious scowl, but then the expression cleared and his lips curved into a
smirk. “I may have been beaten by a little girl, but at least I wasn’t dressed like one,” he said,
sounding very pleased with himself.

Sokka went a startling shade of red. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said, not very
convincingly.

Yuxuan leaned forward, his eyes dancing with mirth. “Do tell, Li.”

“You were fighting dressed as a girl,” Zuli told Sokka, pointing a finger victoriously. He
didn’t seem to understand he was supposed to fancy it up in more than straight facts to get the
big laugh. It was endearing to see him try, though.

Sokka considered, still blushing a bit. “That is true,” he agreed eventually. “And I have it on
good authority I looked amazing. Even you have to admit I rocked the dress.”

“It looked fine,” Zuli said, immediately losing his small advantage. Then he flushed and did
some of his weird blinking.

So, that was the way the wind was blowing. Shen looked at Hakoda whose countenance was
one of mild suffering and resignation. It was unclear if it was Zuli’s blushing, his daughter
fighting or Sokka apparently wearing a dress that had put that particular expression on his
face.

Yuxuan laughed again. “So, Sokka got in a fight while dressed as a woman and Li got beat up
by a fourteen-year-old girl?”

“My sister is fourteen, and she could kill every man here without breaking a sweat,” Zuli said
flatly. He did not seem like he was joking.

A sister, though, that was interesting. And not referred to in the past tense, she was still alive.
Was she safe somewhere? Was he trying to find her? Get back to her? Or was the other
possibility Shen had been slowly considering closer to the truth? Zuli was an odd kid, and he
conducted himself a little strangely. But there was more to it than that, the way his hands
sometimes made that aborted movement, like they had earlier when he accepted the swords,
his insistence in washing before bathing, the unfamiliar katas he had been teaching Sokka.
Small things that indicated a cultural difference. Of course, he could be from somewhere in
the colonies that had assimilated more thoroughly. But there was also another possibility, that
he had been raised in the Fire Nation itself. Children born to women like Shen’s mother,
victims of the advancing soldiers were common, but it wasn’t the only way women were used
and harmed by the invaders. War brides were a thing in the conquered territory and more
often, women were taken back to the Fire Nation coerced or forced to be with their captors,
although they were not granted the status of wives. Any resulting children could be used to
keep the woman in line, until they became troublesome, in which case they might
be...removed. He wasn’t sure how inheritance laws worked in the Fire Nation, but a horde of
half Earth bastards was probably not a good look for most noblemen.

“So!” Sokka was saying, “Now we have established that I look amazing in a dress and that
teenage girls are potentially terrifying opponents. Haoyu, please tell me about what the Blue
Spirit did to save your family? I need to know.” He made some grabby motions with his
hands.
Never one to shy away from talking about his hero, Haoyu looked thrilled to get back on
topic. “Well, we have a farm up by the old river, which is to the north of us now. A few years
ago, there was a big battle to the south of Ba Sing Se. We lost, and the Fire Nation general
who won the day for them was awarded the land they had claimed, and took over Lao River
Fort.”

“General Tsing,” Zuli almost snarled, glaring at the fire with his jaw clenched.

“That’s him,” Haoyu said grimly. “He wasn’t content with taking our grain and livestock. His
men raided all the surrounding farms and villages. They took all our gold and goods, we
didn’t have much, but combined it was more than enough to make the bastard rich.”

“He sounds nice,” Sokka said, his eyes on Zuli.

Shen was watching him too, another Fire Nation high-ranking officer the kid had history
with? How? He was only sixteen, what had he been doing?

“Yeah. Anyone who resisted was publicly flogged or worse.” Haoyu shook his head.
“Benders were taken and not returned.”

“You made it out okay, though?” Sokka asked.

“My parents smuggled me out, and I joined the army, it was the only option I had open to me.
Anyway, about a year ago, the Blue Spirit raided Tsing’s stronghold, and stole back all the
money, gold and precious items. It wasn’t his first raid on Lao Fort, and I heard he has gone
after his supply chain as well in the past. But it was certainly the biggest one. He robbed the
general blind!”

Sokka leaned back on his hands, peering at Haoyu curiously. “But even though it probably
seemed like poetic justice, it didn’t really help your families, did it?”

“But that’s the thing! He gave it back!”

“He… gave it back?” Sokka looked doubtful.

“That’s why the people love him. He took it, and then the same night he redistributed it, but
cleverly. Instead of handing it to the people, and it being found the next day during the
inevitable searches, he left it all in the fields, hidden below the line of grain to be found when
the farmers worked the land.”

“Uh huh,” Sokka said. He looked bemused, and still a little dubious.

Shen couldn’t work out Sokka’s reactions. He clearly was expecting something in particular
and was enjoying the whole discussion a great deal. But he was also apparently confused by
this piece of information. It was…odd.

“He’s a bad person,” Zuli said, as the conversation lulled. His scowl had turned fierce again.

“Who, Tsing?” Sokka asked.

“He doesn’t care about his people. He doesn’t deserve his position, or his win.” He glared at
the fire, which seemed to swell slightly with the breeze. His fingers stole up to his face
almost unconsciously and rested for a moment against his burnt cheek, before falling back
into his lap.

Shen glanced at Hakoda, who was also watching carefully. He had a speculative look on his
face. Shen thought he probably did too. Did Tsing have something to do with the injury?

There was something nagging at him, though. He ran back over what Zuli had said: he
doesn’t care about his people. No Earth Kingdom person would consider themselves or the
colonised farmers Tsing’s people. Zuli was literally talking about his people, Fire Nation
people. That did add more weight to the idea he had been born on the mainland, which
opened up the possibility that he knew his father, that he had turned against him or been
driven away when he got too old to control. Shen also briefly toyed with the thought Tsing
could be his father. But he didn’t really have enough evidence to have any certainty, and the
idea was probably fanciful.

Shen wasn’t sure exactly how he felt about those thoughts, other than the fact the boy, his
mother and sister were still victims, and had every right to want to fight against the people
that had hurt them, no matter where they were born.

Sokka’s eyes were on his friend too, they were narrowed and thoughtful. Perhaps he was also
unaware of certain details from his past and was just as keen to piece it together.

As if hearing his thoughts, Sokka stretched, clicking his back as he did so. “Well, this has
been fun,” he said. “Haoyu, can I borrow these pamphlets? I want to read the exciting
exploits of the Blue Spirit’s adventures in...” He glanced at the title of the one he was
holding. “The Great Mountain Pass and Full Moon Bay.”

“Sure!” Haoyu said. “But look after them. That one’s my favourite.” He flushed again and
Sokka’s smile widened, almost sharklike with anticipation.

“Come on, Li, let’s take our leave.”

“Why? It’s early yet.”

“Because I want to read these, and I have something I want to talk to you about.”

Zuli’s face took on a stubborn look. “No.”

“Oh, okay, you want to discuss it here?”

“No.”

Sokka jerked a thumb and Li sighed, resigned to his fate. He rose to his feet with cat-like
grace. “Thank you for the food, and the use of your whetstone, Lieutenant Shen,” he said,
with a smirk and a tiny, almost insulting bow. He made that weird jerk of the hands again.

Shen knew what it was, the instinctive reaction to try to make the sign of the flame. No one
else seemed to have noticed though, their faces were all still light with amusement. “Good
night, Zuli,” Shen said, with a small smile. Such a cheeky shit.

He watched as the boys headed back to their tent. They sat on a fallen log outside the
entrance and bent their heads together in conversation.

Turning back to the men, he met Hakoda’s eyes. He looked even more exhausted. “How are
you holding up? Are things still difficult with Sokka?”

Hakoda sighed, looking back towards the fire. “He doesn’t want to discuss it with me. It
makes things hard. At least if we could hash it out, we could start to build bridges, perhaps.
He just says he understands. But then he won’t spend time with me, avoids not just me but
Bato and the others. I don’t know how to make it right.”

“Time, I suspect. Although we may not have much of it. He seems to be doing okay,
otherwise. There have been no other incidents like the last one. They are doing okay, they are
both safe with the 54th.” Zuli was safe, he meant.

Hakoda lowered his voice. “There are a few mixed soldiers in your company. Yuxuan is
one?” His eyes were a few shades darker than Zuli’s, but they were clearly more Fire than
Earth.

“Yeah, we have a few.”

Hakoda nodded. He seemed to be thinking over something he wanted to say. After a few
moments, he sighed. “To be honest, I don’t know what to make of Zuli, Li. There is
something about him that gets my back up. But I’m not sure if it is just because he is so close
to my son. If he was just some boy we picked up, would it bother me so much?”

“He is an odd kid in a lot of ways. Part of it might be trauma, part of it personality.” Shen
shrugged.

Hakoda caught his eye. He seemed to have noticed something in Shen’s voice. He wasn’t
sure if he should share his growing suspicion. He didn’t want to make life harder than it had
to be for the boy.

He was saved from having to make the decision when Sokka suddenly made a loud sound
and fell off the log. For a moment both Shen and Hakoda tensed, ready to run to him. But no,
he was laughing. He was howling with laughter and slapping the dirt by his head as he rolled
around in mirth.

“It’s not that funny!” Zuli was exercising his impressive lung capacity in his irritation at his
friend’s antics. “Stop it, Sokka!”

Sokka did not stop it. Zuli’s words just made him laugh harder.

Zuli bent down and punched him in the shoulder, hard, judging from the noise he made. That
didn’t help either.

The sound of laughter was a welcome one, and Shen shared a wry smile with Hakoda. “Odd
or not, their friendship seems true,” he said.
“Hmm,” Hakoda said. “That does seem to be the case. And honestly, the boy hasn’t done
anything to make me dislike him. I don’t dislike him, but I…” he trailed off. “Mistrust is the
wrong word. He has obviously suffered a great deal at the Fire Nation’s hands, and he has
clearly been fighting them a long time, especially considering his age. But…”

He broke off as more yelling started from the boys. Zuli was trying to snatch one of the
pamphlets out of Sokka’s hands, and when that failed he launched himself at his friend,
sending them both tumbling to the floor, where they rolled around like a couple of puppies,
arms and legs flailing.

Shen grinned. “Well, at least some good food seems to have given them their energy back.”

“See, that should be funny,” Hakoda said tightly. “But it stresses me out. I react to it. I know
it’s unfair but I can’t seem to control it.”

“The kid did stab you.”

“In defence of my son. I have no ill will towards him for that, in fact, it helps his case. I
just…”

Shen wondered if it was the yellow eyes, the closeness to Sokka, or a combination of the two.
They were unusually attached to one another, which could cause some parental anxiety for a
lot of reasons. But Shen didn’t think that was what it was. “Hakoda, you have just gone
weeks knowing your son was captured by the enemy, and was suffering who knows what
torture. That on its own is enough to trigger some bad feelings. But having got him back,
your relationship is strained. And Zuli is where all his attention is at the moment.”

“Are you saying I’m jealous of a traumatized sixteen-year-old?” Hakoda didn’t sound angry
at the suggestion, he just sounded sad.

“I think it would be an understandable reaction. What would not be okay, was if you let it
rule you and you were cruel to the boy, but you are not, and you haven’t been.”

Back at the tents, Zuli made a high pitched noise, and Shen turned back to the fight in time to
see him shoot upwards like a startled cat, while Sokka, still on the floor, stared at him in
apparent shock. Then a vicious smile of pure evil stole over his face and he pounced. There
was some more flailing as Zuli thrashed under his friend and made some strange squeaking
noises.

“Is he laughing?” Hakoda asked, a grin tugging his lips in spite of himself.

“Yeah, I think he is.” He sounded like a rusty waggon wheel.

“Sokka, stop it or I will pull your lungs out through your nose, you bastard! Stop it!”

Shen chuckled and offered Hakoda a swig of spirits from his flask. He rarely drank, but it
seemed like a good night for it. “They’re good kids, Hakoda. Spend more time with him, it
will ease the mistrust. And Sokka will come around, he just needs to work through it.”

Hakoda accepted the drink. “You give good advice, Captain. Thank you.”
……………...

Sokka was burning with questions. He didn’t believe for one second Zuko had suddenly been
overcome with altruism and redistributed his stolen wealth to his enemy’s people. And it had
been Zuko, judging from his reactions. It was definitely time to find out the truth, so he
dragged him towards the tent and down onto the log by the entrance. It was far enough away
that they could not be heard by the men at the fire if they kept their voices low.

“So, spill,” he said.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Zuko said sullenly.

“I assume that Blue Spirit in question was you, unless there are more of them running
around?”

“It was me,” Zuko said reluctantly, keeping his gaze away from Sokka’s attempts to catch it.

“And you stole all that money and then returned it to the people out of the goodness of your
heart? No offence, but I don’t believe it. What really happened?”

Zuko looked extremely embarrassed, which was an unspeakably cute expression on his angry
face. Sokka was determined to find out the details, there was a fun story here, he just knew it.
He was just hoping it wouldn’t be one of those that were also really desperately sad, which
most of Zuko’s stories about his past tended to be.

“Come on, tell me. I’m not going to leave it alone until you do. So please?”

Zuko sighed, long and hard and annoyed. “Hunting the Avatar was expensive. My father
didn’t exactly give me an endless supply of funds, and my uncle only had so much. So I
topped up the coffers a bit.”

“The Blue Spirit did.”

“Yeah.” Zuko scraped at the dirt with the heel of his boot, eyes on the ground.

“And your uncle didn’t notice?”

“He noticed. But he didn’t say anything.”

“I see.” What had been going through Iroh’s head that he hadn’t challenged his fourteen-year-
old nephew’s crime spree? Against his own people, no less? “So you robbed this Tsing guy?
He’s one of yours, though?” he asked, pointedly.

“He’s a bad person, he deserved it,” Zuko snapped. “I went after Zhao, and a couple of other
people too.”
He really was a vindictive, spiteful little shit and Sokka approved wholeheartedly. “What
happened this time, when you…gave the ill-gotten gains back to the people?”

Zuko rolled his shoulders in discomfort, but he looked resigned to the inevitability of sharing
the truth. “I broke into his fortress. I had done it before, so it was pretty easy. But the last
time I mostly took information, and some scrolls he had stolen from Earth Kingdom
collections.”

Ah, now it made sense! The thieving probably started with him trying to gain access to
Avatar information that was denied to him by his banishment. The money was just a side
benefit.

“This time I went for his treasure, too. And I got it, loads of gold and precious items he had
taken from the people he conquered. He shouldn't have taken those things, that’s not
supposed to be how it works.”

“How do you mean? That’s always how it works.”

“No,” Zuko said vehemently. “We’re supposed to be making things better for people, not
robbing them.”

Sokka had to bite his lip. Now was not the time. “Better? How is what happened to my
people better?” Okay, so he couldn’t actually hold himself back. “How was murdering my
mother in my best interests? No, you know what, we’ll come back to this argument. I feel
like we will have to revisit it frequently as it doesn’t seem to permeate your thick Fire Nation
skull.”

Zuko looked angry, but as always, the mention of Sokka’s mother seemed to have a
mollifying effect on him. And then he looked miserable instead. As frustrating as it was, it
gave Sokka hope. Eventually, he would make him see the reality of the situation, and then he
would make him admit it. Now was not the time, so Sokka attempted to calm himself. Fun
story.This was a fun story, and they needed fun. “Tell me about Tsing. You robbed the man...”

“Yeah. The stuff was heavy, so I liberated an ostrich horse.”

“Liberated. I like it.”

“And I was transferring the goods to the saddlebags. I was trying to get the weight even, to
make it easier for him, but he was startled and bolted. The stuff started falling out of the bags.
I chased him, but it made it worse.”

The image was so funny. Sokka could see it in his mind’s eye; Zuko masked up and freaked
out, furiously chasing a panicking bird, probably yelling and waving his arms and scaring the
life out of the poor thing. And the dumb animal had zigzagged all across the farmer’s fields,
dropping his precious cargo of goods and money at random. Absurd, undignified, amazing.
“And thus a legend was born,” Sokka managed to say with a straight face before he doubled
over laughing. He just couldn’t get the image of Zuko yelling at the stampeding bird out of
his mind. He was such a ridiculous person, who seemed to get himself into equally ridiculous
situations. It was just too much.
“It’s not that funny!” Zuko said, his voice rising in his agitation. Sokka laughed harder. “Stop
it, Sokka!” Zuko punched him, not at full strength, but hard enough to hurt. It didn’t stop the
giggles. He had probably put the fear of all the spirits above and below into that animal, it
was probably still running.

Realising he wasn’t going to win, Zuko sat back on the log and sulked angrily while Sokka
tried to gain control of himself. “You’re too much!” He wiped his eyes. “Ugh, I needed that
laugh.”

“Glad to be of service,” Zuko told him with considerable venom. He had picked up one of the
pamphlets and was flicking through it. “What is this nonsense?” he asked. He sounded
scandalized.

Sokka grabbed it out of his hands and skimmed through it. “Oh my…” He started giggling
again. “It’s an account of the Blue Spirit rescuing a noble lady from marauding firebenders.
Written with some...exciting prose. Listen!” He cleared his throat and deepened his voice,
“She swooned into his arms like a reed bends in the breeze, and he grasped her tightly, her
bosom heaving against his firm chest as she was overcome with gratitude…”

Sokka risked glancing at his friend and was thrilled he had, Zuko’s face was a picture of
appalled horror and it was one Sokka would treasure forever. “It is fictional, right? Or did
you have a sideline in sweeping beautiful maidens with heaving bosoms off their feet and
into your bed?”

Zuko made an inarticulate, strangled noise and went very, very red in the face. “No! Give me
that!” He lunged for the booklet, but Sokka managed to keep it just out of reach. Zuko tried
to snatch it again and when that didn’t work he launched himself bodily at Sokka, knocking
him backwards and trying to wrestle the pamphlet off him.

Sokka laughed breathlessly. Zuko was heavy and his elbows were sharp, but he was holding
back from causing actual harm, at the expense of getting what he wanted, which was nice of
him. Sokka spat some dirt out of his mouth as they rolled again. Zuko was making a low
growling noise, very intent on his goal. But he was crushing Sokka underneath him, his
greater weight giving him an unfair advantage. So Sokka did what he always did to Katara
and jabbed him in the ribs. The reaction was unexpected, and even better than when he did it
to his sister. Zuko squeaked, and leapt away from him, somehow launching himself upwards
into the air like a cat, but landing with a lot less grace, thumping onto his arse and blinking at
him in shock. It took Sokka a moment to process.

He was ticklish.

Never had Sokka had an evening of so many gifts. Zuko yelling at an ostrich horse and
becoming a hero to his enemies. A bawdy romance written about his alter ego, and now this.
He grinned and enjoyed the look of dawning horror on Zuko’s face before he pounced.
Digging his fingers into his ribs and making him squirm and squeak out some strange noises
which seemed to be angry laughter. Zuko kicked and flailed and yelled, while Sokka laughed
triumphantly.

“Sokka, stop it or I will pull your lungs out through your nose, you bastard! Stop it!”
Sokka did, if only for a moment. He looked down at him, allowing his smile to turn smug.
“No, you won’t.”

Zuko glared up at him, flushed, with his chest heaving. It put Sokka in mind of the bosoms,
and he started laughing again.

“I Will kill you,” Zuko told him very seriously.

“Nope. You can’t threaten me. I know you now.” He leant forward and tweaked his nose.
Zuko looked flummoxed. “Come on, you idiot, let’s call it a night. I’ll read us the rest of this
wonderful tale as a bedtime story. And tomorrow we will stage an intervention for Haoyu’s
extremely questionable taste in literature.”

“That’s not a story, it’s a travesty,” Zuko grumbled. But he followed Sokka into the tent and
started stripping off his dirty clothes before crawling into their bed.

Sokka climbed in after him. Lying on his back and grinning up at the canopy. That was fun. It
had been…he couldn’t actually remember the last time he had fun like that. Zuko was still
sulking, but Sokka thought he had enjoyed himself too, despite his embarrassment and being
flustered.

“I hate you,” Zuko told him.

“You don’t. You love me. I’m your best buddy.”

“You’re no friend of mine. Dumpling is my only friend.”

Sokka blinked up at the tent cloth. “Your only friend is a dumpling? Where did you get
dumplings?” He sat up a bit, and leaned over Zuko as he lay on his back, pouting like a child.
“And more importantly, why didn’t you share?”

“The ostrich horse is called Dumpling.”

“Dumpling. You have named that vicious, evil she-beast, Dumpling.”

“She’s round and soft.”

And this was why Sokka found Zuko so weirdly charming. He was completely baffling as a
person and inexplicably adorable. “She’s a savage, mean spirited terror!”

“To you. She likes me.”

“You spoil her. Anyway, you have friends here, ones who are not miscreant spirits badly
disguised as beasts of burden.”

“I have you, I suppose.”

“Thanks, I’m touched.” Sokka resisted teasing him further. He was starting to look upset
rather than miffed. “People here like you, Haoyu and Yuxuan both enjoy your company. And
Shen does too.”
“They don’t like me. They like Li.” He turned away.

There wasn’t much Sokka could say to that. He was right, and he was wrong. Li was Zuko,
and liking Li meant liking Zuko. But if they knew the truth, it wouldn’t matter if they liked
him or not. He would be killed, or ransomed back to his father, who would then kill him.
Overall, his outlook wasn’t great.

He tucked himself up against Zuko’s back. He could feel the tense muscles where their
bodies touched, rigid and hurt. “I know you. I like you,” he said.

Zuko took a few deep breaths that seemed to reverberate through Sokka’s body. He didn’t
respond, but some of the tension seemed to leave his frame and he relaxed a little. Sokka
pushed his face into the nape of his neck, breathing in his familiar smell. Safe and calming.

How in the world was he going to explain this to his sister?

For the first time since they had been rescued, Sokka let himself worry about what came
after. Part of him didn’t want to leave the safety of the encampment. A small Earth Kingdom
army and his dad’s ships between them and Zhao felt a lot better than the prospect of being
out there alone. But he had to find Katara, had to find Aang and do whatever small part he
could.

But then, what was he supposed to do with Zuko? He couldn’t stay here alone, even if he
would stay, which was about as likely as the sun rising in the west. The likelihood of him
outing himself was far too high to be risked. But Sokka wasn’t really sure he wouldn’t go
back to Avatar hunting if Aang landed in his lap. Even though the door home seemed to be
closed, while the Avatar was out there, there was a small possibility he would be able to win
back his father's favour. In Sokka’s opinion, even if he succeeded, the end result would still
be his death. But convincing Zuko of that might take a bit of work.

He knew Zuko was a good person, he knew that right down to his bones. But Sokka also
knew he personally wasn’t equipped to undo years of brainwashing, lies and entitled
imperialist thinking. That would take time and experience, and would involve Zuko letting go
of the things he treasured and desired. It was not going to be easy or simple.

The only person who could make Zuko see the truth was Zuko. And although the boy was
smart, he was also very, very dense.

But despite his misgivings, Sokka thought he deserved the chance to be allowed to try.

Just not at the expense of the Avatar.

Ugh, there was a reason he had been avoiding thinking about this. He just couldn’t shake the
feeling that a semi-friendly firebender teetering on the edge of treason might be useful when
it came to Aang learning Fire. If he believed in destiny...but he didn’t, he believed in free will
and difficult choices.

And who was he kidding? It wasn’t just Zuko’s usefulness that was motivating his desire to
sway his thinking and allegiances, he liked him. He liked him a lot. He didn’t want to fight
 him, and he didn’t want to see him hurt. But it was going to be one serious uphill struggle.

If he wanted to take Zuko with him when he left, he was going to have to work hard to figure
out a way to do it safely. Perhaps if they could find his uncle? But then, did he want to hand
his friend back into the clutches of his family? Even the only member who seemed to give a
crap about him? According to what he had gathered from Zhao, Iroh had fought against his
own people during the battle at the North Pole, but that didn’t mean he would switch sides
completely. Would he undo any positive changes Zuko had made?

It was something to consider.

“Sokka?” Zuko’s raspy voice floated out of the darkness, his body tensing as he spoke.

“Yeah?”

“The dress looked fine. I mean, you were shit at fighting in it, but it looked okay.”

Sokka rubbed a hand over his face, trying to fight down a chuckle. “Thanks, oh master of the
backhanded compliment.”

Zuko finally rolled over, so they were literally nose to nose, but it didn’t seem to bother him
any. “It’s not backhanded, you looked fine in the dress.”

“But I was shit at fighting?”

“Yeah? Well, you were. But the dress was…” He blinked rapidly and flushed. “You looked
like a warrior in the dress. It looked good. I was only teasing.”

“I know, dumbass. But thanks.”

Zuko nodded, apparently satisfied, and shoved at him, until their previous positions were
reversed, tucking his face into Sokka’s neck and holding him a bit too tight to be comfortable.

Yeah, Sokka wasn’t giving this up without a fight. Ozai wasn’t getting his son back, not any
which way.

He didn’t deserve him.

Chapter End Notes

We will call this chapter the calm before the storm… next chapter is one some people

😬
seem to have been looking forward to, in which the fire siblings both go boom - two
explosions for the price of one!
 Chapter 8
Chapter Summary

The tent was on fire, she noted absently. How did that happen?

Chapter Notes

Warnings: Panic attack (sort of?) vague references to non-con, brief self-harm (punching
a hard object) violence, blood.

Sorry this one took so long! I had some minor surgery and discovered I could not write
on painkillers.

Many thanks to my beta burkesl17, who has managed to wrangle my dyslexic nonsense.
All mistakes are my own.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Today was going to be a rest day. Shen was looking forward to it. The general and his council
needed to decide if they were going to cross the water or stay on this side for the next stage of
the journey. Once they turned into the river, the ships would be hard to hide. And they would
start to hit civilization soon, villages and farms, which would be a mixed blessing. They
desperately needed supplies, but there would be no hiding their movements.

Still, that was for tomorrow. Today, everyone got to rest their weary bodies and enjoy a scrap
of downtime. Not Shen though, he still had to stick to his normal routine, checking his men
and dealing with all the many logistical problems of moving a large group of people together.
He had also got into the habit of meeting Hakoda for tea every morning so he could update
him on the kids. Then they would walk through the camp to allow the poor guy to unsubtly
check up on his son.

Shen held back a grin at the sight of Hakoda, as he did every morning. The man did not do
well with the early start, and he always looked dazed and a bit disheveled, which was
endlessly amusing, considering the power and presence he commanded in battle. Not being a
morning person seemed to be a family trait. Sokka was physically hauled out of bed by Zuli
at the arse-crack of dawn to practice the sword. He always looked like he was regretting all of
his choices and was still basically asleep for the first half an hour. It was a miracle the boy
hadn’t stabbed himself yet.

“Morning,” Shen greeted Hakoda, handing over a strong cup of tea.

Hakoda grunted at him, blinking. Shen mostly failed to hold back his grin. He doubted the
other man would notice anyway, he was still so groggy.

They walked the normal route through the camp. The boys’ tent was in the middle of the
company, no chance for an assassin to slip past in the night.

As they approached, there was sudden shouting from inside, then Zuli shot out of it like he
was being pursued by Ozai himself. He was barefoot, in his sleep clothes, and heading for the
forest. Shen’s heart sank. Whatever this was, it was going to cause him a headache, he just
knew it. He was momentarily unsure if he should chase the kid or check on Sokka first.
Hakoda had no such issues and ran for the tent, just in time to meet his son as he charged out.

He was half dressed and covered in blood.

“Sokka!” Hakoda said, his voice high with horror.

Sokka had one hand to his face. Blood was sliding out from under it and down his chin like
grisly war paint. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Where did he go?” he asked blearily.

“Sokka, what happened?” Hakoda asked, his tone turning from anxious parent into one of
command. He pulled his son’s hand away from his face so he could see the damage. It looked
like a broken nose. Lots of blood, but no gaping wounds.

“An accident,” Sokka said, his voice nasal and muffled. “Li had a nightmare, a bad one. He
hasn’t had one like that before. He hit me in the face and the blood freaked him. I’m alright
though.”

Hakoda’s face got hard and serious. “You will go to the healer. That needs to be set.”

“No! I need to...”

“Yes, Sokka,” Hakoda interrupted, his voice stern. “That’s not a request, that’s an order.
Captain Shen will find Li and make sure he is okay.”

Shen took that as the order wrapped up in a request that it was. He nodded.

Sokka’s eyes flashed, furious and defiant. Shen was glad to leave them to argue it out, he
didn’t want to get in the middle of that. Also, time was of the essence, catching up with Zuli
before he ran into trouble was more important. He sent his men on ahead to widen the
perimeter, the kid may have made it past the sentries, and he would be a sitting turtle duck if
the Fire Nation happened to be watching. Hopefully his own soldiers would stay back if the
boy was upset. He probably wouldn’t appreciate more witnesses to his distress, but when it
came down to it, safety was the most important thing.

Zuli was in a small clearing, crouched with his head in his hands.

“Li?” Shen deliberately used his preferred name, rather than teasing him as he usually did.

“Fuck off,” Zuli said, his voice thick and unsteady. “Fuck off.”
As Shen approached, he could see he was crying, the tears wet on his cheeks. This was going
to be tricky. In Shen’s experience, teenage boys, like soldiers, didn’t appreciate having their
emotional vulnerability exposed. As he drew closer, he realised it might end up worse than
anticipated, the kid’s breathing was only a step away from hyperventilation, and his eyes
were unfocused, the way they had been when he had stabbed Hakoda.

“Li?”

“Fuck off!” Zuli said again, more snarl than words. Shen wasn’t actually sure how aware he
was of reality. He began tracking Shen’s movement, his glittering right eye following him
carefully. There was something more than anger in his gaze, it was a shade of fear and
desperation that made the hair stand up on the back of Shen’s neck.

“Li, I’m not…” ‘Not going to touch you’ was what he was going to say, but he had no time.
The kid went from hunched in a squat to furious motion faster than Shen could register, and
he launched a high, well-aimed kick at Shen’s face that he barely deflected. The impact of it
on his arm was jarring and his own adrenaline shot up, making his heart pound in a familiar
tempo. He stepped back to give the boy some space and himself room to manoeuvre if it
became necessary. But Zuli followed him. He seemed to live by the notion that the best
defence was attack, and he was, as always, going to give it his all. He dropped to the floor,
spinning, his legs kicking out hard and fast and taking Shen’s feet out from under him.

Embarrassing.

He should probably stop remembering the scrawny, shattered boy Zuli had been when he
arrived, and think of him as the terrified but determined ball of violence he had been during
Sokka’s episode.

“Li, stop!” he demanded. But the kid was beyond listening. He lunged at Shen, knocking him
back in the dirt, slamming the breath out of him and straddling his waist, aiming for his face
with his fists. His punches lacked coordination, too angry, too desperate. Otherwise Shen was
pretty sure they would have done some pretty serious damage. As it was, Zuli landed a blow
that might have cracked a rib and one that definitely blacked his eye. The boy was strong, and
he had training, although most of it seemed to have gone out the window in his hopeless rage.
But Shen was bigger, stronger, and had been fighting in the army for as long as the brat had
been alive. He didn’t want to make the situation worse, but he also wasn’t going to let the kid
pummel him to death. As he blocked the next punch, he grabbed a skinny wrist, holding it
tight. Zuli’s other hand reached up to claw at him, raking his face and arms. The raw
desperation in it was kind of heart-breaking, but not to the extent he was willing to lose an
eye. He already had teeth marks scarred into his arm, he didn’t need scratches as well.

Shen caught the other hand and used his size and weight to overbalance the boy, forcing him
down. Zuli’s legs were kicking wildly, so Shen rolled him onto his front, laying half across
his back and keeping his arms firmly pinned to the ground. The kid snarled and fought,
struggling in the forest scrub beneath him.

“Li, calm down. Stop fighting and I can let you go.” Spirits above, but he wished he could
without risking life and limb. Zuli was making small furious cries of fear and rage, almost
growling in the back of his throat as he flailed. Considering Shen was literally twice his size,
it was unbelievably hard to keep him down.

“Li, stop, please. Calm yourself.” He wished he knew his real name, perhaps he would
respond better to that. Instead, he twisted and thrashed in the dirt like a furious landed eel.

Shen knew their current position was doing neither of them any favours. Considering the
specifics of Zuli’s most recent trauma, having a soldier lying half across him and restraining
his arms was probably doing a lot more harm than good. He took a moment to think through
the logistics of moving. He couldn’t risk injury, but he wasn’t going to gain anything positive
or calm him like this.

“Okay, kiddo, I’m going to sit up,” Shen said, although he doubted Zuli was registering his
words. He got no response other than more low, frightened, rage filled noises, so Shen rolled
until he was in a seated position, keeping a firm grip on Zuli’s arms and gasping a little with
exertion. Spirits, but he was a strong little bugger. He yanked Zuli closer as he tried to squirm
away, until he was practically in his lap, firm against Shen’s chest and facing outwards into
the forest. He crossed Zuli’s scarred wrists over the front of his body, holding him tight and
restricting movement. Zuli attempted to rear his head back to strike him, but Shen was
anticipating it and kept him securely in place. The kid dug his heels into the dirt and twisted,
trying to get his teeth close enough to Shen’s neck to bite. He was ridiculously difficult to
keep controlled. If Shen relaxed his hold for even a second, he might end up with his throat
ripped out. It would probably have been more sensible to keep the boy pinned on the ground,
but Shen could admit to himself that he just couldn’t stand the frightened noises he was
making, couldn’t handle being the cause of them.

It was frankly shocking how he was still thrashing. Shen was exhausted just trying to hang
onto him. “Li, calm down. When you’re calm, I’ll let you go, okay?” There was no sign of
any calm arriving anytime soon, and he found himself worrying about how hard he was
holding the thin wrists in his own big hands. “Zuli? Zu? That’s the bit of your name that’s
real, huh?” he asked, keeping his voice as low and soothing as he could make it. He tried
talking softly to him about inconsequential things, about his own ostrich horse, how nice his
feathers looked now Zuli had taken over his grooming, and how Shen still slipped him treats
every evening even though he mocked Zuli for doing the same with his and Sokka’s mount.
He talked about the jook they were having for breakfast. He had some seasoned oil and
vinegar he was planning to add for a little kick. He had been thinking of offering some to
Hakoda, but perhaps he would let the boys share if they wanted. He spoke about the weather,
about the forest and about his own home, far away. It was nothing but burnt, deserted
farmland now, of course, but he didn’t mention that part. Nothing seemed to have any effect,
but eventually, finally the boy’s struggles weakened, and he lay his head back against Shen’s
chest and neck, panting heavily.

“You back with me?” Shen asked, nudging the fuzzy black hair with his chin. It took a few
moments to get an answer, but eventually, Zuli nodded weakly.

“Sokka’s okay,” Shen said. Because he thought he probably needed to know that, it was
unclear if it was his nightmare or hurting his friend that had kicked this episode off. But
whatever it was, it had clearly been festering for a while.
“I hurt him,” Zuli muttered.

“I know, but he’s okay. I’m sure his nose will be broken plenty of times over his lifetime, his
mouth will make sure of that.”

Zuli made a little noise that might have been a laugh if he’d had any energy or good humour
left in him. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know. He does too. You had a bad dream, I think.”

Zuli’s breath hitched on a sob and he seemed to strangle it down with pure force of will. “I…
I was okay. I didn’t have nightmares on the boat. I used to, before. I used to have them all the
time. But on the boat they went away.” He breathed for a moment, the motions uneven and
stressed. “I thought maybe they had gone. One good thing to come of all this shit. But now
this.” He took a few more rapid breaths, his body stiffening and shaking in what Shen
thought was fear, or remembered fear.

“I didn’t know it was a dream. And he was there, and I panicked and I hit him.” His voice
rose, high and thin, “I shouldn’t have hit him!”

Shen made the decision to let his wrists go, it was worth the risk to give him a little freedom
of movement if he needed it. Instead of attacking him, Zuli’s hands twisted together,
clutching at each other like he was seeking some solace from himself. Shen wiped a big palm
over the kid’s sweaty forehead. He was burning hot with panic and stress. “Just match your
breathing to mine. Don’t force it. You don’t have to say anything, and you can stay here, or
move away. Just match your breath, okay?”

“I shouldn’t have hit him!”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not!” Zuli’s voice went up again with something close to panic. “He said he would hurt
Sokka if I fought him, I shouldn’t have hit him!”

It took a moment for Shen to figure out he wasn’t talking about hitting Sokka, but about
hitting the man in his nightmare. Presumably the one who had assaulted him.

“You didn’t. It was a dream, just a dream.” Shen didn’t think he was particularly good at
comforting kids. Soldiers were much easier, he knew what to say to them, how to distract
them or what was in his power to promise. This was uncharted territory. “Sokka will be okay.
He was busy making Hakoda’s life a misery when I came to find you.” Who did something
like this to children? What kind of people did this? Took pleasure in it? “You’re safe,” he
added.

“Safe?” Zuli spat, “Too late.” The tension shot through him again, and he leant to the side
and punched the dirt, hard. He reared back and did it again and again, making another
horrible sound. It was almost like he was trying to scream quietly, or perhaps, he was so upset
he just had no voice.
As much as that anger needed to come out, he was going to seriously hurt himself, and Shen
gave him a little shake. “Flat hand, Li! Slap it with a flat hand. Don’t risk breaking
something.” He wasn’t listening, so Shen pulled him back, gently but firmly. He was half
expecting to be attacked again, but Zuli allowed himself to be manhandled this time, leaning
back against him again and shaking with emotion and exertion.

“Okay? You can stay here, or you can move away, just don’t hurt yourself, alright?” Zuli
didn’t say anything. He lurched forward again and retched violently. He hadn’t eaten since
last night and there was nothing to come up. Poor kid. Shen could honestly say he had not
seen such a visceral, violently physical reaction to trauma in all his years exposed to it. The
boy had a lot of rage, and he didn’t think it was just from this most recent unpleasantness.
This was years of pain and anger.

When he was done vomiting, Zuli leaned his head against Shen’s neck again, breathing in
time. There was something calmer in his body now, although that might have partly been the
fact he was just so tired he had nothing left.

Zuli was matching his breathing remarkably well. This was a technique he was used to, or
was at least familiar with. It was working too, he was becoming more calm and controlled.

“Why did this happen now?” Zuli asked, his voice a dry rasp. It was unclear if the question
was rhetorical or not, but Shen decided to answer it anyway.

“You went through something traumatic, it’s not surprising you’re having a reaction. Just like
Sokka did the other day.”

“I was fine.”

“Look, kiddo. I’ve dealt with this messed up shit before. I’ve dealt with my own, dealt with
my men going through it. It’s a part of war. Sometimes, you have to feel a little bit safer
before it comes out. You were alone among strangers. I know you had Sokka, but you also
had the threat of being surrounded by soldiers. You were still preparing to fight.” He leaned
back on one hand, Zuli’s body followed his slouch, lying against him, limp and exhausted.
“You’ve started to settle in, and now the built up response to what happened is beginning to
manifest, now you aren’t so afraid. Do you understand?”

Zuli nodded, taking deep breaths.

This was not how Shen had envisioned his day going when he had woken up this morning.
He assumed dealing with non-traumatized teenagers wasn’t this hard. But perhaps it was,
what did he know? He had signed himself up to the army as soon as he looked legal enough
to do so, and his captain had not tolerated any teenage nonsense. He rubbed his hand over
Zuli’s forehead again, wiping away the sweat and offering a little warm connection. The kid
leaned into the touch and Shen’s heart clenched horribly. He was going to find that admiral,
and he was going to disembowel him. No, castrate him, and then disembowel him.

They sat quiet for a while, breathing steadily, bathed in the defused morning light filtering
through the thick trees. Zuli stirred against him. “Why don’t you have a top knot? The other
captain, the arsehole one, he does, and the general. And most of your men,” he asked, his
voice quiet, and with an exhausted slur that accentuated his slight lisp. “You have your hair
short. Why?”

The question blindsided Shen a little. He sighed. “I cut it off.”

“Why?”

“When my brother died.” Not the best time to be remembering that. It didn’t seem to matter
how many years passed, it still felt as fresh and painful as the day it happened.

“Were you shamed by it?” Zuli asked.

More Fire Nation cultural stuff. Zuli had clearly had his hair cut by the admiral, the same as
Sokka had, and if he was brought up in the Fire Nation, he would be feeling its loss sharply.
“No. Well, I suppose I was, in a way. He was my little brother. I wanted to look after him,
keep him safe. But I couldn’t. I failed in my most important task, so, I guess it was a form of
shame.” He didn’t think he had the words to describe why he had done it, the wildness of his
grief and the promise he had made to his dead brother, for justice, for him and for their
people.

“He died in the war?”

“Yeah,” Shen said quietly, momentarily lost in the memory of fire and screaming, pain, fear
and loss. “At the siege of Ba Sing Se.”

Zuli tensed. Lots of possible reasons for that. Shen was too bone-deep tired and sad to pussy-
foot around them. “Did you lose someone there too?” he asked.

Zuli was quiet and still for a moment. “My cousin,” he said at last.

“Were you close?”

Zuli shrugged, a slight movement of his shoulders. “He was kind to me. He read me books.
Things went wrong after he died.” He shuddered. “Everything changed. My mother…” He
closed his eyes and breathed.

Shen wondered which side of the family the cousin was on, which side of the war he had died
for. He suspected the father. But he couldn’t begrudge any affection the kid had received,
even if it was from the Fire Nation side. It raised more questions, though. What about that
death had kicked off the change in his family? And how was it connected to the mother? It
was always possible the cousin had been a legitimate child of the father, and ‘cousin’ was a
convenient and more neutral way to describe him and their familial relationship. He had a lot
of questions, but he didn’t want to pry when the boy was so obviously emotionally fragile,
his wounds leaving him vulnerable to manipulation. It was surprising he had been as open as
he had been, and Shen didn’t want to overstep if it could be avoided. His curiosity could wait.
Probably.

Having sat quietly for a while, regaining control of himself, Zuli suddenly seemed to realise
he was sitting in Shen’s lap. He scrambled away, landing a sharp elbow in Shen’s sore ribs as
he did so, and leant back against a tree instead, his face pink with embarrassment. Shen
manfully resisted poking fun at him. It probably wouldn't go over well.

The kid looked a mess. His pale skin did him no favours when it came to tears, and his face
was very red and a little puffy. He attempted to wipe himself on his bare arm and only
managed to smear snot up his face, which was both disgusting and sort of sadly hilarious.

Zuli met Shen’s gaze for a moment, then looked away. “I thought I had lost everything three
years ago. I didn’t want to give up, but I had nothing. A few months ago, I found hope again.
Then Zhao tried to take that from me. I fought him as hard as I could, but I failed,” he said in
the weird stilted way he had when he was describing events.

“When he captured me, I thought they had taken all they possibly could.” He paused and
swallowed hard. “I was wrong.” He screwed his face up, tears trembling on the closed lashes
of his right eye for a moment, as he took deep ragged breaths, lost in memory.

Then his jaw firmed, and he blinked open his eyes. His gaze was fiery with resolution and
anger when it met Shen’s. “There's only one thing left to take from me now, but I won’t let
him. I won’t die by his hand. I would rather die by my own than his, not unless I can take him
with me.” There was fury that went hand in hand with the misery. It burned hot and fierce. He
was going to keep fighting, that was for sure, but Shen didn’t want him to think he had to
fight alone.

“Li...”

“I don’t mind you using the other name,” Zuli interrupted him. His eyes flicked up and then
back down to his dirty toes where they dug into the scrub on the forest floor.

Shen smiled a little. “Zuli, he won’t touch you again, not while I have the power to stop it. I
won’t let them hurt you again.”

Zuli raised his eyes to meet Shen’s. There was something intense and hard in them. “Don’t
die for me, Captain. I’m in charge of my own destiny, my own choices. Even the stupid
ones.”

Shen shivered. “Except for those Sokka is in charge of?” he said, trying to shake the strange
feeling crawling down his spine.

“Yeah, except for those.”

Shen leaned back on his hands. He was already just sitting in the dirt, may as well relax a
little. “Will you talk to him about your dream? Sometimes it helps.”

Zuli’s eyes flashed wide and scared, very yellow in the morning light. “No, no he can’t know.
I can’t tell him.”

Shen tried to figure that out. Sokka knew what had happened on the boat, he had been there
after all, and it wouldn’t take much of a leap to guess what sort of shape Zuli’s nightmare
might have taken. “How do you mean, kid?” Even as he said it he remembered; I shouldn’t
have hit him. Was he upset because in his dream he had fought back? Or had that happened in
real life too? “The admiral said he would hurt Sokka if you resisted him?” He asked.

Zuli flinched and shrank in on himself a bit more. He swallowed slowly and closed his eyes.
It was probable he wasn’t really ready to talk about this, if he ever would be. But it might be
important to know for Sokka’s sake. Shen was starting to see the form of something
potentially problematic here.

“Yeah,” Zuli said at last. “He told us if I didn’t behave, he would burn Sokka, and that if I
fought he would…do what he did to me, to him. To Sokka. I couldn’t let that happen.”

“He told you both that?”

“Yeah. But it was our only chance, we had to get something to pick the lock. I…I thought I
had more time than I did. Stupid. Everything I do goes wrong.”

“But here you are, free. You’re hurt, but not defeated.”

Zuli nodded. “He thinks he has beaten me down, he thinks he’s brought me to my lowest
point. He’s wrong. If there is one thing life has taught me, it’s that I can always go lower.”

Shen chuckled. He wasn’t completely sure if that was a good thing or not. Zuli had said it
almost like a threat. And Shen got the impression it would only take death to keep the kid
down. He was going to fight until his last breath, and then probably some more out of pure
spite.

“You ready to go back? We might have missed breakfast, but I’m sure we can scavenge
something. We’re resting for the day, not moving on until tomorrow, so there’s time.”

“Okay.” Zuli pushed himself up, brushing a little at the dirt on the front of his shirt. It was a
fairly pointless exercise, he was well and truly covered.

“Come here,” Shen called to him, digging his handkerchief out of his pocket.

“Why?”

"I’m going to tidy you up, you look like you’ve been rolling in the mud, and you’ve got snot
half way up your face. It’s gross, but you can keep it there if you want.”

“Oh.” he looked bemused. “No, I’ll take the cloth and clean it myself.” He held out an
imperious hand.

“Oh, you will, will you?” Shen held it up, way out of his reach.

Zuli’s eyes narrowed, but they had that gleam in them he got when he called Shen
‘lieutenant’ or when he did something mean to Sokka. He crossed his arms. “You will give it
to me. Don’t make me thump you right...” he reached out a stiff finger and jabbed Shen right
where his ribs were complaining. “...Here.”
Shen grunted. The kid had a good eye to have noticed him favouring that side when he got
up. “Alright, you win. I have been thumped enough for one day.” He had noticed the lack of
an apology for said thumping, but he assumed it was due in part to embarrassment, and so
was happy to let it slide for now.

Zuli snatched the handkerchief when Shen lowered it, and began to clean his face. “What do
they feed you in the army to make you so tall?” he asked.

“The blood of my enemies.”

He looked like he was mulling that over, and Shen wasn’t sure if he had taken him seriously,
he really was a peculiar boy. “That was a joke.”

“I know that! I was trying to think of something amusing to say in response. I’m not good at
jokes. Sokka is, although they’re usually pretty dumb.”

“Let’s go and find your funnier half then, shall we?” Zuli looked a little bemused at that
statement too.

Hakoda was watching them solemnly when they walked back into camp. Sokka rushed over
to his friend, pausing for a moment, probably to assess Zuli’s receptivity, before giving him a
cautious hug. Zuli allowed it, but did not return the gesture. Instead he reached up and
touched Sokka’s bruised face, his mouth turned down unhappily. He leant forward and rested
their foreheads together briefly.

“I’m sorry.”

Sokka gave him a small smile. “Accidents happen, buddy, it’s okay.”

“It’s not.”

“I get to be the judge of that, and I say it is. How about you, are you alright?”

“Yeah.” He clearly was not.

“You want to go hit stuff with a sword for a bit?”

Zuli perked up a bit at that prospect. “Yeah.”

Sokka stepped back, then actually seemed to see his friend properly for the first time. “Spirits
above and below, you’re filthy, what happened? Did you roll in the mud like a pig-chicken?”

“Pretty much.” Zuli shrugged, making a small cascade of dried mud to fall off his shirt and
down his front. They both watched it. “I had a giant soldier sit on my back and grind me into
the dirt for a while.” He jerked his thumb at Shen, and Sokka turned to look at him, eyes
narrowing dangerously.
If Shen had ever doubted that the protectiveness went both ways for the boys, the stare he got
then would have set him straight. It was a threat and a promise all in one and if Sokka had
been a firebender, Shen would probably have been incinerated on the spot.

Hakoda made a small noise at the sight. He was just going to have to deal with it though,
whether the status quo between the boys continued as it was, or progressed into a more
intimate relationship, there was no point in fighting it.

Zuli followed his glare to meet Shen’s eyes, he stared, face blank. “It’s fine, Sokka,” he said
after a second, giving Shen a small nod. “Let’s go.”

“Don’t you want to change into actual pants? And you know, out of ones that are mostly
made of mud?” Sokka asked, finally looking away and back to his friend.

“And get them more dirty? No, I’ll bathe after sword practice. Let’s go to the river, we passed
it on our way back to camp.”

Sokka gave Shen and Hakoda one last stern glare and then followed his friend as he headed
to the tent to fetch his swords.

“Stay within the perimeter!” Shen called after them. Hopefully they’d listen. He didn’t think
he had the strength to go launch a rescue if they got themselves in trouble.

Hakoda gave him a once over, and it reminded him that he hurt. His ribs ached as well as his
eye, and his arm stung where Zuli had scratched at him. He was also probably covered in
mud. “Busy morning,” he commented, straight faced.

“Yeah,” Hakoda said, “No kidding. You look like you lost a fight with a sabre-tooth moose
lion.”

“Nah, just a half grown pygmy puma. And I won the fight.”

“Well, your pygmy puma seems in better spirits,” Hakoda said, clearly fishing, but not quite
sure how to ask for the details.

Most of it Shen would keep to himself, he hadn’t promised not to discuss anything the boy
opened up about, but he would prefer to keep his trust. There were some things, however, that
needed to be said. “Yeah. Lots of rage in that kid. Lots of hurt.” he brushed a little dirt off his
uniform. He was going to have to go change so his men didn’t mock him any more than
necessary. “I’m going to kill the fuckers on that ship. The ones that hurt them, and the ones
that stood by.”

“Get in line,” Hakoda said, his voice hard.

“Listen, something came up. He told me the admiral used threats to Sokka to force Zuli to
agree to submit to him. Sokka was aware of this deal but was obviously unable to stop it. It’s
going to be messing with him.” Hakoda’s face tightened. The poor man looked like he hadn’t
slept well in months, which was no doubt the case. Shen hated adding to the strain on him,
but it had to be done. “Neither boy is at fault for any of what happened, but Sokka may be
blaming himself at some level. That kind of guilt is insidious, it’s dangerous. People do
messed up things when they have something like that eating them from the inside. We need to
keep an eye on him.”

Hakoda closed his eyes and inhaled sharply. “There are no words for what those men did. No
words to describe the level of anger in me because of it,” he said. “Thank you for letting me
know. I will do what I can to keep an eye on him, to talk to him about it, as much as he will
let me.” He turned his blue eyes back on Shen. “But it might be up to you. I know it’s not
your responsibility...”

Shen shrugged. “The boys are traveling with my company, they’re part of the 54th. That
makes it my responsibility.” He clapped a filthy hand on Hakoda’s shoulder. “But more than
that, more than the fact I would do whatever I could to help those kids, any kids out. You are
an ally and a friend, and that makes your son my concern. I will do whatever I can for him.”

Hakoda smiled, sad but open. “Thank you, Captain Shen. I appreciate it more than I can
express.”

…………………………

Sokka’s face was hurting, and the last thing he really felt like doing was sparing. But he got
the impression Zuko really needed to be doing something, and this felt like it might be the
option that allowed for the most…unwinding.

His own mind was still spinning after this morning, it hadn’t really recovered from waking up
to a fist in the face. If Zuko had been having nightmares, he had never mentioned them, and
unlike Sokka, who woke them both up sweating, shouting and crying on the regular, Zuko’s
seemed to be silent, if he had them at all. He slept still and quiet, the opposite to Sokka, who
sometimes went to sleep on one side of Zuko and woke up on the other, having somehow
slithered over him or under him during the night.

But whatever Zuko had dreamed about early this morning had been bad. He had whimpered
and thrashed and Sokka, who had still been half asleep, had still been awake enough to feel
those desperate little sounds his friend was making like a spear to the heart. He had foolishly
attempted to shake him awake and had received a punch to the face in response. Zuko had
been aware enough to realise what he had done a few moments later—probably when all the
blood started gushing out of Sokka’s nose. He had been wearing a look of abject horror when
he had bolted out of the tent. Sokka, dizzy and hurting, had tried to follow, but his dad had
stopped him.

Sokka shivered. His dad had stopped him, but he shouldn’t have, it wasn’t his place, even
though it kind of was. A feeling of such anger had swelled through him, his vision had gone
white at the edges.
That had been frightening. It had actually shocked him enough to step back, and allow
himself to be taken to Panuk to get his nose set. That was an anger he wasn’t used to. He had
a temper, he knew he had a temper, and sometimes used his fists where he should use his
words. It wasn’t Zuko levels of anger or explosiveness, but it was there. The wave of blind
rage he had felt at his dad in those few moments? That was another level. Sokka shuddered
again. He didn’t enjoy feeling out of control, it was scary and disorientating. He would have
to be careful it didn’t happen again.

They arrived at the river, it wasn’t the big one he had seen on his dad’s maps, but a small fast
moving tributary. They were still within the camp’s perimeter, but far enough away from the
sentries to speak freely. Zuko remained quiet as he put down his swords and began running
through some warm-up movements. He looked a little stiff and slow, the motions dragged
down by fatigue despite the early hour. Sokka wondered what had happened with Shen in the
time they had been gone. Shen certainly looked like he had been in a fight, but apart from a
few scrapes and being covered in mud, Zuko didn’t seem like he had been harmed. Physically
at least.

Sokka wasn’t really sure what he should try to say to him. Where should he even start? He set
his own feet, breathing deeply and beginning the simple forms he had been shown right at the
start, back on the boat. Every step he took he didn’t place gently, made his face throb, it was
uncomfortable, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to continue. But, when he looked over at Zuko,
who was frowning fiercely and flowing through his steps like it was all that was keeping him
going, he felt he should try to keep moving, for a while at least.

“So, what happened?” Sokka asked, “After you left?”

Zuko blinked at him. He looked like he had just registered where he was and what he was
doing.

“I got upset.”

Oh, it was going to be one of those conversations. “Yeah, and then what? Shen looked like he
had been attacked by a wild animal. You look dirty, but not hurt. What happened?”

Zuko’s mouth pinched and he flushed. “We fought, or at least, I fought him, I attacked him, I
think. I don’t really remember it. Like the time you had your reliving. I know what I did, but I
wasn’t…I wasn’t really there for it, you know?”

Cold horrible fear suddenly clutched up at Sokka’s insides. “You didn’t bend though?” He
asked, although obviously he hadn’t, otherwise Shen would either be crispy fried or Zuko
would be in chains, or worse.

“No.”

Sokka stopped pretending to go through the motions and lowered his blade. “That’s lucky.
Like, really, really lucky. I would have thought you would have gone right into bending if
you were reacting and not thinking. Unless, are you still having trouble? It’s been long
enough I would have thought it would be back to normal.”
Zuko stopped his katas and stared at the forest floor instead. “I could bend, I think. I feel…
weak. Like I still need more energy to get where I would have been previously. But I can do
it. It’s not gone. I was worried, before. But I know it’s there.” He held out a hand and lit a
small flame on his palm.

Sokka looked around nervously. “Okay, I get it. Put it out. We do not want you getting caught
with that, thanks very much. I have enough on my plate without having to talk us out of that
one.”

“I don’t know why I didn’t bend when I was fighting. I don’t think it even occurred to me.”
Zuko shrugged. “I was used to not being able to bend on the boat, and I think I was half back
there, mentally. So I was just using what I had, not wasting time with what I didn’t.”

“Okay, but we need to make damn sure that doesn’t happen again, or we could end up in
serious trouble,” Sokka said.

“Can’t say I really want to have a repeat of this morning any time soon,” Zuko huffed, still
looking at the forest floor, like the rough scrub beneath his feet held the answers to all his
questions.

Sokka followed his gaze. Zuko was still barefoot, which could not have been comfortable.
Sokka still remembered that horrible walk through the forest, his feet remembered, but Zuko
had clearly just been desperate to get away from the camp and to clear his head. “No,” Sokka
agreed. “It must have been…unpleasant.” Understatement, if it was anything like his reliving.

“It’s more than that!” Zuko snapped at him, eyes finally meeting his. “I assaulted two of the
only people who are kind to me within an hour. That’s pretty shit, even for me.” His face
screwed up, and his scowl intensified. “I’m sorry for hurting you, Sokka.”

Sokka waved a hand at him. “I know you are. It was an accident, please stop worrying about
it.”

“I can’t help it.” Zuko sounded like he was planning to threaten or beat his fears into
submission.

“I know.” Sokka picked up his sword, determined. “Show me the next moves.”

Zuko nodded, clearly relieved to be given the excuse to change the subject. “Okay.”

They practiced until Sokka's breath was coming hard and sharp in his chest. Even Zuko
looked tired, but then, he had looked exhausted before they had started.

“I’m done,” Sokka said, lowering his blade. Instead of arguing, Zuko nodded. He really must
be tired. “I have fruit and jerky in my bag. You want some?”

“Yeah.”
They sat by the river’s edge. Zuko put his feet in the water, letting the current clean away the
mud, and Sokka tugged his boots off so he could do the same. The fast, chill water was
refreshing, cleansing almost. “So, you and Shen are okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, we’re fine.” Zuko didn’t look happy though, his forehead was all creased in that
look that was part anxiety and part deep thought. “He can never find out the truth,” he said
after a long moment of intense contemplation.

No kidding. Sokka didn’t say it, though. Zuko wasn’t talking about keeping his secrets for
their safety, he was talking about the emotional pain it would cause if Shen found out and
turned on them. Sokka had no doubt that he would, if it came to that. “Yeah,” he agreed,
subdued.

After a light breakfast of meat and dried fruit, Zuko stripped and washed the mud off himself
and his clothes in the fast-moving river. Sokka watched him quietly. He was still
underweight, but the raw look of bones showing through skin was starting to fade. It
wouldn’t be long before he was back to something close to the body mass he’d had before his
capture. Sokka looked at his own arm critically. It was still looking pretty skinny to him, but
perhaps there was some new definition there? Now he was practicing with a sword, surely he
was building up new muscles? His arms certainly ached enough, and his legs, even his butt
hurt after practicing his new set of katas.

Clean and dry, and dressed only in his loose sleep pants, Zuko sat back beside him and they
looked out over the water again. Zuko was radiating slight heat, drying himself, which was
pleasant, but also a reminder of who and what he was. Something Sokka sometimes forgot
for a moment.

He looked at him out of the corner of his eye. Zuko’s face was almost relaxed, but there was
something pensive in his expression, if you could read the lines of tension in the muscles of
his jaw, the slight furrow of his brow. When you looked deeper, he looked like Sokka had felt
after his own episode. Raw and exposed, aware of the past and the future as dual spectres
hanging over them, threatening and frightening.

Sokka leaned back on his hands, kicking his feet a little to create ripples on the water. “Tell
me something you want,” he said, thinking about the way Zuko had looked when he had been
talking about his bending, compared to the way he had looked talking about swords, when he
had given Sokka his own. “Like, really want, just for you. Not for your dad, not for your war
or your honour, just you, just Zuko.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Sokka breathed out long and hard. No, he probably didn’t. “Something small, something you
just want to see or do. Say if you had heard of a play that you might want to see, or a place
you might want to travel, or go back to. Just something you want because you want it, not
because you need it, or someone else needs it.”
Zuko gave Sokka a look, his mouth all scrunched up in frowny confusion. Like he couldn’t
imagine bothering to desire something so frivolous. But then his face made a funny new
expression, eyes widening a little before his brow came back down into a scowl. He had
thought of something and he didn’t like it. That meant Sokka was almost certainly going to
love it.

“Tell me!” Sokka said, keeping the eager grin off his face with some effort. “I won’t judge
you. Okay, that’s a lie, I might judge you a little, but it will be an affectionate judgement,
unless it’s something truly horrible like murdering the Avatar or making out with my sister.”
He held up a hand. “Or murdering my sister or making out with the Avatar. All of that is very
off limits,” he added, just in case there was any doubt.

Zuko looked suitably appalled at those suggestions, which was another very enjoyable
expression on his face.

“Tell me!”

“No,” Zuko muttered, frowning at Sokka’s feet where he was kicking at the surface of the
water. “I refuse to answer this line of questioning.” He crossed his arms over his bare chest
like a stroppy toddler and frowned. But he was also blushing.

Sokka again struggled not to grin at the sight of the pink staining his cheeks. He wasn’t sure
exactly why he loved it so much when Zuko blushed. Perhaps it was because of the disparity
between the violent, awful person he thought he had been and the weird, awkward moron he
actually was. It was charming. Adorable. Ridiculous. Sokka reached out and pinched his
cheek lightly. “You’ve gone red. You’ve thought of something amazing, I know it!”

“I have not.”

“We have discussed your ability to lie before, it has not improved.” Sokka shook his head
with mock sadness. “Tell me. I can keep asking all day, trust me.” He gave him a little nudge
with his shoulder, knocking them together. “This is just fun, Zuko. It’s a game like when we
played I spy.”

“I hated I spy.”

“Bad example.” Sokka had never met someone over the age of six who had been quite so
atrocious at that game.

“What do you want then?” Zuko shot back at him.

Sokka pulled his feet out of the water and drew his knees up to his chest as he pondered. He
thought of and discarded a number of things: Murder Ro, Chen and Zhao, he figured they
shared that one. Kiss a girl with tongue probably wasn’t appropriate or a surprise. Touch a
real life boob went into the same category. Feel he had earned his father’s respect as a warrior
was probably a bit too close to home for Zuko, and was kind of complicated and twisted up
in Sokka’s head in a way he didn’t really want to examine too hard right now. To hold his
sister and smell her hair, to know she was safe and to protect her, was just a little too
personal.
“I want to see the polar lights again. I want to eat Gran Gran’s cooking,” he said at last. “And
I want to read every book ever written, which might be a bit of an undertaking. But it’s
something to aspire to.”

Zuko looked at him, quietly sad. “You miss your home?”

The stab of homesickness was right on cue, getting Sokka in the gut. “Yeah, I do. Do you?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I miss the food, I miss the sound of the insects in the summer, and the scent of
the flowers in the garden.”

They sat quietly for a moment, both lost in memory. “That wasn’t what you thought of
though, was it?” Sokka said at last. He didn’t blush because he missed bugs.

Zuko made a face again, twisting his mouth up and wrinkling his nose. He was about to give
in and Sokka leaned closer. “Tell me.”

“I want to pet the bison,” Zuko blurted. Then went a shade of red that was truly delightful.

Sokka stared, fascinated, while Zuko went redder and redder until he looked like he might
spontaneously combust. Actually, he looked a bit like he was hoping he might spontaneously
combust.

A small, joyful noise escaped from Sokka, he just couldn’t hold it back. Zuko looked like he
might punch him, so Sokka pushed him gently down in the dirt and leaned over him, while
Zuko attempted to glare through his blush. “Zuko, you are one of my favourite people in the
world, you know that? I have no idea how that happened,” he told him solemnly, then he
collapsed on to his chest, overcome with some very manly giggles.

Zuko was all stiff and offended beneath him. “I shouldn’t have said it!”

“Zuko,” Sokka said, lifting himself up onto an elbow and looking at him with all the affection
he had in him. “I promise I will move the earth and sky to make that a reality, okay? I will
make it happen. You can pet the bison.” Zuko didn’t seem mollified, he still seemed
embarrassed and flustered. “You have to really dig your hands into his fur to get to the soft
bit, the outer coat is a little coarse, but the undercoat is like squishing a cloud. Except clouds
are actually just water and not fun to squish.” That seemed to have distracted him slightly,
and Zuko made a little motion with his hand, like he was imagining it in the fur.

Sokka grinned at him. “Why don’t you tell me a story? You haven’t told one for a while.”
Not since the boat.

“I suppose I could,” Zuko said suspiciously. “What do you want it to be about?”

“Got any good revenge ones? With a happy ending.”

Zuko gave him a long and steady look. “Are you hoping our story will have a happy ending?”

“Of course.” Sokka said. He didn’t like his expression. It was bitter and sad.
“It won’t,” Zuko said with certainty. “It can’t, not for both of us.”

Trust Zuko to murder his good humour. “Balls to that,” Sokka said, putting all the conviction
he didn’t really feel into the words. “Balls and bollocks to it. We are going to make it work.
And at the very least, we will have revenge on those bastards. I will kill them. Or you can,
I’m not that fussy.”

Zuko looked contemplative, and while he still looked pensive, he didn’t seem quite so much
like the harbinger of doom as he had earlier. “Okay. I will try too. Although I don’t think
there’s much hope for it.”

“I think trying is all we can do.”

Zuko smiled up at him, a small, warm twist of the lips. “Trying is something I’m pretty good
at,” he said, “succeeding, not so much.”

……………………….

Azula’s tent was befitting of a crown princess, but it was still a tent. It meant there was only
red and gold cloth between her and her enemies. She had complete faith in her ability to
obliterate any attackers, but there was still a feeling of discomfort, which she resented.

“Your Highness,” a guard announced, stepping in and bowing low. “You have a messenger
from Caldera.”

She nodded, straightening her spine and leaning back ever so slightly so her weight was
balanced over her heels, to give her the push and steadiness if she needed it.

Azula narrowed her eyes at the slight girl that entered the tent. Hua, her maid. She was
wearing loose pants and had her hair braided like Ty Lee’s. She looked tired and a little
muddy.

“Your Highness,” Hua said, dropping to her knees and bowing low, so her forehead brushed
the ornate rug. “You asked me to bring you your correspondence and any…news.”

“Indeed. You are dismissed,” Azula told the guard. He left with a bow. He looked almost
insultingly relieved to be out of her presence. “You may sit up,” she said to the girl.

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

“Tell me what news you bring.”

The girl sat back on her heels and licked her lips. She was clearly aware she was treading a
fine line of loyalty and was unsure how far she could or should push it in either direction.

She would choose Azula, or regret it.

“Your father has sought counsel from the Fire Sages,” Hua said eventually. A wise decision.
“I don’t know what about. I tried to find out more, but his inner circle were not talking about
it, even to each other. Maybe it’s something regarding the Avatar?”

“Perhaps.” But what could those old goats tell him he didn’t already know? Azula had a
feeling it was something else, and not knowing what that might be was aggravating, and
potentially dangerous. Still, there was nothing to be done about it now.

She gestured for the letters and Hua handed over her correspondence in a tight bundle, still
warm from where she had carried them safely strapped to her body. Azula sat by the desk to
sort through them. Messages from spies and nobles alike. And that cat-snake Zhao. She hated
the man. She glared at his letter, sitting obnoxiously on the lacquered surface of her desk. He
had no family crest, so his seal was one of his own invention: A sea hawk, clutching a fish in
its talons, the sun surrounding them both. An image as arrogant as the man himself.

May as well get that one over with, she couldn’t imagine he had anything useful to tell her. It
was probably an apology for executing her brother. It amused her to think about how torn he
must have been, on one hand killing Zuko had probably been the highlight of his year, but on
the other, he had been very carefully trying to cultivate her favour and slitting her brother’s
throat was not necessarily the best way to go about pleasing her, even considering the
strained relationship they had. He had to know it would not get a favourable reaction.

Azula cracked the seal and unfurled the scroll. She was surprised to see a second letter
encased in the first. She set it aside momentarily and began to read through Zhao’s
obnoxious, flowery missive. The language was sycophantic, not the way a man should speak
to her, she was his commander. She knew he didn’t view her as such. His superior certainly,
his better, but not in the line of command. Something she intended to rectify as soon as she
got the chance.

Your Royal Highness, despite the circumstances that force me to write this letter…

Bootlicker. She knew what he wanted, he’d had designs on her since she was a child. As
crown princess, she was finally free of the spectre of that particular unpleasantness. She
wondered if Zhao realised that by killing her brother he had wiped out his chances of
marrying into the family. There was no way her father would allow a common born bastard
like Zhao to get that close to the throne. She was pretty sure he had never intended to allow it
anyway, just used the possibility to feed the man’s ambition.

Allowing herself a moment of pleasure in knowing how angry he would be when he realised
his miscalculation, she went back to the letter. And here it was, the part where he pretended
to feel bad.

It brings me no pleasure to bring you news of your brother’s death.

A likely story, he hated Zuko. Had done since he had been a young child. She wasn’t sure
why exactly. Perhaps he sensed weakness, just as father had done, and despised it. But most
likely it was the fact someone so inferior should be born to so much power that got under his
skin. Pathetic reason to hate a child.
Your brother asked a boon of me before his execution. He desired to write to you, his sister,
and make his peace...

Unlikely.

Please find his letter attached. I was uncertain whether I should be the one to bring you more
pain…

He was waiting to see what he could gain from it, more likely.

...And so delayed sending it, I hope you will forgive…

Blagh blagh blagh. By ash and bone, she hated the man.

Please know I took no pleasure in carrying out this duty.

Bullshit. The thought of how much pleasure he would have taken infuriated her.

She felt strange opening her brother’s letter. She had found herself thinking of him often. And
not just because of her current situation with their father. Memories she had pushed down and
away had surfaced, of early childhood, when things were simpler and the world was
frightening in different ways. Of being curled together on their mother’s bed in the women’s
quarters. The lace nets blowing slightly in the breeze hadn’t felt like enough to hide them as
they listened to their father speaking harsh words to Ursa in the adjoining room. Zuzu had
stroked her hair when she fretted and told her a story about a girl who had escaped from a
cold, terrible castle and traveled over the sea. It had been in verse, and she had liked the
rhythmic way it sounded, and the soft touch of her brother’s fingers on her hair.

She skimmed Zuko’s letter, and it was certainly his, written in his stiff, familiar hand. He was
always more fluid writing with his left, but as he was forbidden from doing so in the palace,
habit made him use his right. It made the characters look a little stilted, a bit sad on the page.

Another memory floated up.

The afternoon sun had been bright, just turning a shade towards evening. Zuko had been
crying. His hand was hurting where their tutor had struck him. Always the left hand, the one
he wanted to use but shouldn’t.

“You mustn’t cry, Zuzu,” she had told him sternly. “You know it makes him madder if you
cry. I won’t tell anyone, though,” she had reassured him. She had rubbed some of her hand
cream onto the sore bits. Now she could bend, her fingers got dry sometimes. It smelt like
honey and blossom and summer evenings. She had thought bending would be hard, the way
Zuko always got it wrong. But it was easy. Perhaps father was right, and he was just useless.

Azula blinked the memory away. Why were they happening? She hated them. What use were
they? She wouldn’t mind if she thought there was any point to them, if there was anything to
learn. But they were just sentiment. Foolishness, from before she knew her own mind.

The letter was addressed to Crown Princess Azula. So he had accepted his fate and her
position. She wasn’t sure what she felt about that. It wasn’t like him to give up, he may have
failed pretty consistently, but he could always be relied on to try again. She didn’t like feeling
uncertain about things, she didn’t appreciate the doubt.

The letter was boring. Absolving her of any bad feeling and letting her know she had his
blessing as the new heir. As if she needed it. As if he needed to send such a letter. Why would
he? He was a sentimental fool at times, it made him easy to manipulate, easy to position to
take the blame for things. But would he really waste his last days writing this tripe to her?
No. She read it again more carefully.

Do you remember seeing A Jasmine Scented Shadow? The last time we were truly happy as a
family. I wish we would have had the chance to…

Lies. The last time they had seen that play, they had gone together, in secret. Out the window,
into the city through the night and into the playhouse. Their mother had been gone, so how
else were they supposed to see their favourite? Father thought the theatre was frivolous
nonsense. It had taken little to persuade Zuko to go, but when they had returned, their father
had been waiting. She had tried to implicate Zuzu as the ringleader, the instigator. Father had
reprimanded him severely and by the sound of it, painfully, but she had not escaped her own
punishment that time either. It hurt. She had not been caught again.

Still, the message in the letter was clear, and she used their code to read between the lines.

She set the letter down. Zuko really was a cockroach. He had somehow survived his own
execution. Of course, she doubted his time alone with Zhao had been pleasant. Apparently,
the odious man’s petty, vindictive nature had outstripped his common sense. And there was
no guarantee that Zuko remained alive. By the date he had given it had been weeks since this
was written. In all likelihood, Zhao would have made port and been forced to put an end to
his pathetic games.

Still, her mind was reeling. What to do with this information? How to feel about it?

Zhao was a liar. He had lied to the Fire Lord. That was his own death sentence right there, if
she could prove it. The letter was probably not enough on its own. But would Zhao know
that? Could she use this to gain the upper-hand with him? It would be a beautiful form of
poetic justice if she could.

How did she feel? That was more complicated. It was hard to sort through the sudden
swirling of her thoughts. Zuko was almost certainly dead by now, which meant nothing had
really changed, but reading his words had made her feel things again. The letter itself hadn’t,
but the parts in their secret code that had brought out more emotion than she was expecting.

She fought it down, resentful and annoyed. She didn’t need sentiment, she needed
information.

Of course, there was another avenue for that. She had a man on his ship, after all. Her eyes
first went to the second letter she had received from Zhao’s ship, and then lingered for a
moment on the girl still kneeling on the rug, her eyes politely downcast. Azula wondered if
Hua had recognised her father’s hand or not. No matter, she opened Taiju’s letter.
When she was done, she stared at the page. She was surprised to find her hand shaking. She
wasn’t sure what she was feeling. Anger so incandescent it barely felt real. Executing a
member of the blood, her blood, was wrong, even if it had been at her father’s orders. But
this? Zhao had defiled her brother, violated him. How dare he?

How dare he?

The rushing, spinning, churning feeling of fury that coursed through her like a river of fire
and ash was so strong it felt almost like lightning. There was something about it that felt
good, as her mind became distant from the source of that much feeling. Something freeing,
something powerful.

Something dangerous.

She hadn’t realised emotion could feel like that. So overwhelming, so encompassing. It was
almost like being welcomed into a warm embrace.

Slowly, the intensity faded, the fire clearing from before her eyes. Leaving behind the more
familiar cold fury. How dare he do such a thing? Her blood, her brother, hers.

Zuko had many, many faults, but it was unspeakable that Zhao would do such a thing.
Unthinkable that he thought he could get away with it.

She blinked away another wave. The tent was on fire, she noted absently. How did that
happen?

The girl, Hua, was prostrated on the floor, her arms curled over her head protectively. Her
shirt and braid were smoking slightly, but she didn’t seem to be actively singed. Azula took a
breath and pulled the heat from the room.

Very shameful to have lost control like that. It must have only been for a moment, but it was
not like her at all. She briefly considered killing the girl out of pure embarrassment, but
decided against it. She still had a use for her.

“Your Highness!” The first of the guards burst into what was left of the tent.

Azula remained sitting at her desk, one leg crossed over the other. The very picture of causal
indifference. “Very slow,” she told him, voice cold and sharp like a knife. “And had that been
an attack, almost certainly too late.”

The man realised his situation quickly and fell to his knees, face to the floor. Hua half raised
her head to look at him as he lay beside her. The girl’s eyes were wide and dark with fear.

Azula dropped the temperature of her voice further. “Out,” she told him. She didn’t want to
make a bad situation worse. No doubt this lapse in…composure would make it back to her
father no matter what she did. No need to add murder to the reasons he might start looking
into what had upset her so much.
Being out of control was not something she enjoyed, in fact, it both shamed and disgusted
her. However, that feeling of wild, vicious power and freedom when it had consumed her was
still whispering through her blood, wild and strangely inviting.

This new information changed things. Azula wasn’t sure how yet, but without doubt, the
shape of things was different. She could still use this information against Zhao. She intended
too, if she got the opportunity and if the time was right. But it also meant Zuko was almost
certainly alive. Taiju had released him, and he and the Water Tribe boy had escaped into the
sea. Taiju had been unsure if they could have made it to shore, but Azula was not. Zuzu was
many things, and pathetic in a multitude of ways, but he was stubborn to the point of idiocy.
He had written that letter to her out of spite. Not against her, but against Zhao, he knew she
would use it against the admiral. Zuko was clearly counting on it, even though he must have
been half convinced he would be dead before she received it. No, he would survive, just so he
could get revenge and cause her trouble as he did so. She found herself almost smiling at the
thought. She needed to find him. She needed to know his plans. Was he still loyal? Or had his
execution and subsequent…experiences at Zhao’s hands truly turned him?

Loyalty was a strange thing. Complicated.

Azula was loyal to her people, and would be until her last breath, she loved the Fire Nation.
She was loyal to her father too, had been nothing but loyal and wanted only to do her best for
him, to bring him the victories he desired, deserved.

But somehow, it wasn’t enough, even before this...upset. That was baffling, hurtful, confusing
and frightening. All emotions she would rather be without. Worse, it was making her rethink
Zuko’s situation, the desperation that had looked so pathetic. She was beginning to
understand it.

Of course, he approached things stupidly, he was reactive, he didn’t think things through
properly. She had never thought he was really a traitor, the idea hadn’t really entered her head
until she had met with Iroh, who had clearly thrown his lot in with the Avatar, abandoning his
family and his nation like the weak-willed fool he was. Even the treason Zuko was ‘executed’
for had clearly not actually been intended as treason. It was obvious what he had been
attempting to do, but it had been so stupid. She had thought he had probably deserved to lose
his birthright over it, his life too, although in different circumstances.

But now, she was able to recognise that horrible feeling of desperation that had led him to
freeing the Avatar from his own people. He had been so desperate to win back their father’s
favour he had literally risked everything. He had lost, of course, because he was Zuko, and
his plan, if he had even had one, was no doubt half baked and foolish.

One thing she knew, whether she used Zhao somehow, or just took him down, he was a
walking dead man. She didn’t especially enjoy hurting people, or at least not above the
elation of winning. She killed if it was necessary, as father had taught her, but she didn’t take
pleasure in it.

She might make an exception for the admiral. She might take special pains to ensure he very
much regretted what he had done, and would not be able to do it to anyone else, not even in
the afterlife.
She had first killed an animal when she was seven. A baby turtle duck. She had burned it,
only because she wanted to see what would happen. Zuko had been distraught, he had cried,
horrified by the sad singed mess in her hand. His tears had brought on her own and their
mother had found them both bawling, hysterical. Ursa had seen the remains of the little
creature and given Azula such a look. Azula hadn’t understood–Zuko was crying just as hard
as her, why was only she getting that judgement? It was only much later she had realised it
wasn’t the crying, it was the killing that had earned her that vaguely horrified expression.

She had first killed a man when she got her lightning. Her father had insisted she perform the
execution herself. It had been a test, one of her skill and one of her ruthlessness. Her brother
would have failed on both counts. She excelled. It had been an odd experience, though. She
had expected to feel powerful. But although her father’s pride in her actions had pleased her,
she had felt…nothing for the act itself. Empty, almost. The man had been alive, and then he
was dead. That was it.

Zuko had never matched her. But he had tried. And long ago, she had even attempted to help
him. Azula remembered what she read, everything she read. Zuko could do that too to some
extent—he struggled under stress, but if he was enjoying what he was reading, if he wasn’t
afraid or overthinking, then he remembered it. It was listening he had trouble with, so it stood
to reason that if they could top up the lectures their tutors gave with reading, then he would
be able to keep up. It had been fun to sneak to the libraries, all dusty and creepy, and to sit
and read, and it had been strangely thrilling to hunt down information, old scrolls on history
and bending that no one bothered to read any more.

Then father had realised. He had decided that it was making them weak to lean on each other.
He had come up with a plan to make them improve themselves, to get better. One of them
would be rewarded and the other punished, depending on performance. To lose was to be
humiliated or hurt. Azula didn’t like being humiliated or hurt, and she liked to lose even less.
It didn’t take much effort to beat Zuko, the harder he tried, the more of a mess he made.

It had been a little sad at first to lose that time together, but it had made sense. Father needed
to push them, especially Zuko. They couldn’t afford to have someone weak in charge of the
Fire Nation after father. They couldn’t afford to have someone who lacked the will and the
drive to take their nation forward. So he made them work and struggle and compete.

It was the natural order of things, to separate the weak from the strong. It happened in nature
all the time. Azula liked nature, she liked the wildlife around the palace. There were a lot of
important lessons that could be learned from watching animals and birds.

As a child, she liked to sit by the turtle duck pond. It was a place in which she and Zuzu
always had a…truce. They would sit quiet in their own thoughts, the gardens like a small
oasis. In spring and early summer, they would both feed the turtle ducklings. Sometimes the
fluffy babies would come and sit on Azula’s lap while she offered them scraps. She enjoyed
the feel of their soft down under her fingers and their friendly attention. Azula had quickly
decided she much preferred turtle ducks alive rather than dead.

She and Zuko would watch the creatures in the gardens as the seasons turned and changed
and she learned from what she saw. One year, after their mother had gone, there had been
terrible weather. A drought had afflicted much of the nation, and they had felt it even in
 Caldera. The small wild hawks that lived and bred in the gardens struggled that year. She and
Zuzu had climbed up the tree to look at the nest, they had watched the chicks hatch, blind and
helpless. But nature was, by necessity, cruel. The catch had been poor, and the parents had
just stopped feeding the weaker chick. She and Zuko had watched it struggle and fade before
its sibling had kicked it out of the nest entirely.

Zuko had held a very solemn funeral for it, burning its little pyre with tears in his eyes.

Azula’s had been dry.

She wondered now if he had realised what she had. Had he seen their own fates laid out for
them? They had been helpless to stop nature from taking its course with the death of the
chick, and would be helpless to stop it within their own family.

She had decided that day she would not be the one pushed from the nest.

She wanted to live.

And with her life, she wanted to serve her father.

She still wanted those things, but there was sometime burning in her now, some smouldering
ember deep, deep down. Resentment, anger, bitterness. She had done everything and still she
wasn’t enough.

Zuko had been pushed from the nest, but so far, against the odds, he had survived the fall.

Would she be so lucky if her time came?

Chapter End Notes

Next chapter Sokka gets to go shopping and Zuko’s wonderful luck catches up with him.
Meanwhile, Katara and Co hit up the swamp and Iroh faces an ugly truth.
 Chapter 9
Chapter Summary

How could someone display irritation so wonderfully with just the act of sitting? He
truly was a master of his art.

Chapter Notes

Warnings for this chapter: Little bit of canon typical racism, mild corruption of the
youth: (teenagers looking at softcore porn), Ro should probably get his own warning for
this one for being a creepy sick bastard.

Many thanks to my beta burkesl17, who has managed to wrangle my dyslexic nonsense.
All mistakes are my own.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Katara was struggling. The swamp had torn a hole in her.

She had seen her brother, just for a few moments, although it had felt both like hours and
only seconds, barely enough time to drink in the familiar shape of his face.

“Why did you give up on me?” he had asked her, his eyes icy, icy blue. “It’s cold here,
Katara. It’s lonely.”

He had looked both angry and sad, his face changing expression without his features moving.
He had that awful pale, waxy cast to his skin, the way bodies looked after spending time in
the cold water. But Katara had drunk in the sight of him anyway, despite the horror, because
it was Sokka, and she had been so long without him.

Then he was gone.

And now she felt crushed from all sides, her heart and body aching like she was dying. Like
she had been the one drowning under the cold, unfeeling water. At the time, she had gasped
and gasped, hot tears feeling like they were burning their way down her face.
Now, a day later, rising above the forest on Appa’s back, she could still feel the crushing cold
and the burning of her tears. She didn’t think she was ever going to recover from this grief.

She wasn’t the only one who had been withdrawn since the swamp. Iroh looked pale and
pensive. Unhappy, and with his thoughts elsewhere. No doubt back there, with whatever he
had seen. Katara wasn’t sure she wanted to know, but he might be the only one who
understood.

“What did you see, Uncle?” She asked. By what she meant who, although she was pretty sure
she knew the answer.

Iroh’s eyes lost their distant look when he turned to her. “Are your visions troubling you?” he
asked gently. “That forest is…it is a place of almost overwhelming spiritual power for those
who are attuned to it. It can be disconcerting at the best of times. And I fear these are not the
best of times.”

Katara pulled her legs up, tucking her chin into her knees. The wind while they flew was
biting. “No, they are not,” she agreed. She mulled over the pros and cons of talking about it.
She was reluctant to open the floodgates, but keeping it inside was making her feel physically
unwell. “I saw…I saw my brother,” she said at last. “He was so sad. So disappointed.” And
still so unfairly dead.

“I’m sorry, Katara. The spirits are often unkind. They are not necessarily cruel, just…
different. And what they choose to show us might not be what we want to see.”

“Was,” she took a few long deep breaths, striving for control to keep back the tears. “Was it
him? Was it really him? Is he trapped there somehow? Because he didn’t get proper funeral
rights?” Her breath hitched a little. “I did what I could.” The words started rushing out, fast
and full of anger and fear and pain. “But it still wasn’t what it should have been. We didn’t
have a body, and I was still hoping to find him, so I didn’t do it until weeks after. He died so
unfairly, and he would have been so angry about it if he had known what was happening. I
hope he didn’t know!” The last word came out more of a wail, but she couldn’t hold it back,
and she couldn’t hold back the sounds that followed.

“Oh, my poor child.” She heard uncle say as he drew her into a fiercely warm embrace.
Behind her she felt another pair of arms as Aang joined them, his own breath hitching with
little stifled sobs as he pushed his face into her hair. He was grieving for Sokka too, and he
was grieving for her, because of her pain. And under that, the unspeakable loss of his people.
What would it be like to carry that kind of desolation with you? Everyone you knew?
Everyone you loved? And more, your culture, your shared past and the future of a whole
people just…gone. Unthinkable. Unbearable.

It was suddenly just too much. She couldn’t hold it back anymore. She cried and cried until
she was exhausted. She felt Aang weeping too, his face tight against her neck. And although
she didn’t see it, she thought uncle was shedding his own tears, bent under the weight of his
own loss.

Perhaps if they grieved hard enough, the dead would be quiet, for a few nights at least.
Katara did not feel refreshed after her outburst. The burden of grief hadn’t lifted, but it was
back to a manageable ache. Iroh still had that distant look in his gaze, though, and it worried
her.

She watched him carefully as they landed and began to set up camp. He did his tasks quietly,
but he looked a little vacant. “Uncle?” She asked, stirring the pot of broth with an absent
hand. “Are you okay?”

For a moment he looked anything but, just a glimpse of pain and doubt before his face
creased in a smile. “Yes, Katara, I am well.”

“You seem lost in thought. You have been since…since the swamp.” She glanced at him
through her lashes, she wasn’t sure if she should push or not. But it might help if he opened
up about it. He often talked about his nephew, although it clearly upset him. It was like he
was keeping a part of him alive when he spoke of him. “Did you see him? Zuko? Like I saw
Sokka?” she asked, eventually.

He took a while to answer, and for a moment she thought she had misjudged and he did not
want to speak about it after all. “I saw him briefly. And my son.” He closed his eyes, as
though just remembering was too painful for him. “I saw him too.”

“Your son? I didn’t know you had a child.”

He swallowed, and his eyes remained closed for a moment longer. “Yes, I had a son. Lu Ten.
He died in the war.”

“I’m sorry.”

Iroh took a deep breath and looked at her, full of old pain and compassion. “Thank you,
Katara. I saw them both briefly, my lost boys. Two times I have failed to protect someone I
loved more than life itself.” His gaze turned inward again. “But then I saw my niece.”

“Azula.” Even saying her name made Katara feel anxious, gave her the urge to look over her
shoulder.

“She is the only family I have left. My brother was dead to me the moment he burned Zuko.
Azula is all that remains.”

Katara said nothing. She didn’t want to intrude on his loss, or…slander his family any more
than necessary, but she felt the direction this conversation was taking was not one she was
going to like.

Iroh nodded to himself a little. “The spirits did not show me anything new, these matters have
been on my mind since Omashu. Although...” And now he sounded bitter, and a little angry.
“Although they should have been on my mind a lot earlier, and I fear I may never forgive
myself for that. One of my many failings when it comes to Ozai’s children. Azula has been
left alone with a man who publicly burnt half of her brother’s face off for speaking out of
turn.”

Katara shuddered at the reminder. She kind of took his point though, what would that do to a
person? To always have that fear you could be next? That your own father could do
something so horrific? She shivered again.

Iroh shook his head angrily. “I never truly spared her a thought, too focused on the violence
Zuko had suffered. She was a difficult child, manipulative and troubling at times. But
perhaps, she needed to be, to survive. Zuko did not have that particular talent, although he
tried sometimes.”

And he had not survived. Katara really didn’t like where this was heading. “I’m not sure you
can save her, Uncle.” Not so late in the day, as hard as that would be for him to hear. It was
probable the damage was already done.

“It is possible I am years too late to come to my senses,” he agreed sadly.

“If we take down the Fire Lord, if we stop the war, then she will be safe from him,” Aang
ventured, as he joined them by the fire, brushing Appa’s fluff off his pants after having given
him his evening feed. Katara suspected he had another little cry in the bison's warm fur, she
couldn’t blame him for that.

“Perhaps,” Iroh said. “But if we remove the Fire Lord, what then? Will she take the throne?
Will an angry, hurt fourteen-year-old be able to carry the Fire Nation out of the mess we have
moored ourselves in?” He shook his head.

Katara ran over all the things she could say to dissuade him from this path, but she couldn’t
get any of them out. He had lost two sons, and now he had realised he might have lost his
niece, too. Not through war, but through his own neglect and oversight.

“You could take it, couldn’t you?” Aang asked, quiet and earnest.

“I could,” Iroh said gravely. “I have a legitimate claim. My father passed over me, and gave
the throne to my brother after my failure in battle. But I could take it, if Ozai was gone. Azula
is years away from her majority, and people would accept me as regent. But I doubt she
would accept it, I may have to fight her, even if we took my brother down. That is something
I will avoid at all costs, unless it is a last resort.”

“It may be the only option, Uncle,” Katara said. “I hope it is not, but she seems very set on
her course.”

“Yes. But I have to hope she can learn there might be another way. She deserves the chance
to make those choices, to break free from her father’s influence.”

“Uncle, she is likely to kill you,” Katara said, a little blunter than she had meant to. Aang
gave her what was probably supposed to be a stern look, but just looked kind of sad.
Iroh sighed heavily. “It’s possible. But she’s a smart girl, if I can convince her I will be of
more benefit alive, then that is how I will stay.”

“How will you do that, Uncle?” Aang asked.

“I do not know. With knowledge I hope, and support.”

“Knowledge?”

“My brother is no general, he has never seen a battlefield. I could give her an edge, if she
needs one.”

“Um, Uncle,” Aang said, making an awkward face, half pout and half grimace. “No offence,
but I don’t think we want you giving your battle wisdom to the girl set on killing us.”

Iroh looked at him, and his careworn face suddenly creased into a smile. “Have no fear,
Aang. I will not aid my niece in her fight against you. I was thinking about the probability of
my brother turning on her. She will need whatever help she can get should that happen.

Katara hoped the man was right, hoped he would not have to fight her, but she doubted there
was going to be much choice. Azula didn’t seem like the kind of person to step away quietly.
She didn’t seem like someone who would be willing to learn, or put aside her privilege and
power.

But at some level, uncle was right. Katara didn’t believe for one second that every person
deserved a second chance, the animals who killed her mother and had raided her people
certainly did not. But Azula was Katara’s age. If she had not committed any atrocities that
would negate that, then she did deserve the chance to try.

But at what cost? “Don’t leave, Uncle, please?” She blurted without meaning to, suddenly
afraid. It wasn’t like they needed him, they had been fine without him, but she felt like his
presence buoyed them up somehow, helped keep the distance between them and the fear and
grief.

“I will not. At least, not yet. We are far from safe, and although I am concerned about my
niece’s fate, you and Aang are also of great importance to me.”

“To the world, you mean,” she said, somewhat bitterly.

“Yes. But also to me, Katara.”

He sounded warm and reassuring. But she couldn’t help but feel unless something changed
drastically. It was only a matter of time before he had to take action.

And when he did, he would leave.

……………………..
Zuko got in under Sokka’s guard and knocked his blade out of his hand with a practised twist
of his wrist, then he spun closer, hooked a foot around Sokka’s ankle and tumbled him onto
his arse in the dirt.

It didn’t seem to make a difference how hard Sokka tried, he always seemed to end up in the
same position, at Zuko’s feet, with his sword out of reach. It was frustrating and
embarrassing.

“Get up,” Zuko told him sternly. “Try again. You’re too aggressive with your attacks.”

“I’m too aggressive? Me?” Sokka snapped, pulling himself up off the ground for the third
time.

“Yes. I just told you that.” Zuko nudged the sword over towards him with the toe of his boot.
“You over extend and leave yourself open. You have to react to what I do, but you also have
to be aware of yourself, your own body. Your own weaknesses. Try it again.”

The fourth attempt went much the same as the third. Sokka hit the dirt again. “Damn it! I’m
terrible at this!” he snapped, his temper rising to a confused boil. His anger was a bit like
steering the boat through his ice dodging rites. He could feel the strong riptide trying to pull
the control from his hands as he struggled to hold it back, while the current wrenched and
heaved it, threatening to wrest it from him. It wasn’t right, wasn’t him, but he could no more
keep it controlled than he could have held back the tide with his fingers. “I’m not good at this
stuff like you are!”

Zuko paused and gave him a weird, perplexed look. Sokka’s anger or grumbling always
seemed to wash over him, but this seemed to have brought him up short. He even lowered his
sword. “Good?” he asked. “I’m not good at this.” He paused and screwed his face up in
apparent irritation. “No, that’s not right, I am good at this, I’m very good with my blades, but
it’s not because it came easy to me, it’s because I worked at it.” He shook his head. “All the
time, instead of sleeping I practiced, all the time, for years.”

He shook his head again and looked at the floor, face furious.

Sokka realised Zuko was actually angry, rather than just wearing one of his many scowls. He
had the sudden fear he was going to stop teaching him, for being so useless, or for
complaining like a pathetic child because he couldn’t do it. Or worse, because he was so
terrible at this form of fighting. His angry whining seemed like a petty, stupid outburst now. It
was embarrassing. He picked himself up, and dusted himself off awkwardly.

Zuko was still scowling at the floor. “Sorry, Sokka,” he said, inexplicably.

“For what?” Sokka asked. This was not the correct way for this conversation to go.

Zuko bit his lip. He still looked furious, but Sokka realised it wasn’t directed at him. “I’m not
a good teacher. All of my tutors, the people that taught me bending, all but the man who
trained me to use my blades.” he glanced up, catching Sokka’s eyes then looking away.
“They did it by shaming me, or hurting me when I wasn’t good enough. When I learned the
sword, my teacher was hard, but he…” Zuko’s eyes flickered back and forth as he searched
for the words. “He encouraged me. He told me I was good when I was good and showed me
how to be better when I wasn’t. He showed me I could use dual dao, and utilise the fact my
left hand is stronger than my right.”

There was yet more trauma to unpack there, but Sokka didn’t think he could deal with it right
then. So he latched on to the other bit of information dropped. “You always use your right,
though. Can you use both? I’ve never met someone else who can do that!” he said.

Zuko nodded. He looked embarrassed. “Yeah, I can, but not naturally. It’s bad luck to be born
with a stronger left. Story of my life. Born in winter, left-handed, late to bend, even my voice
broke late!”

Spirits above and below, no wonder his self-esteem was all over the place. Who told a kid
they were unlucky?

Zuko glared at him furiously. “But that doesn’t matter. What I mean is, I didn’t teach you
well. I’m not good with people.”

Yeah, no kidding. Sokka stared at him, unsure of what to say. Zuko was looking like he was
working himself up, his chest beginning to heave with his rapid breaths. Sokka didn’t know
how he had triggered this off, whatever it was, or how to pull it back.

Zuko made a growling sound. “Look, normally we would have time to teach these lessons
slowly, for you to practice and see how well you are progressing, but we don’t have that
luxury!” He waved the hand not holding a sword around a bit for emphasis, or perhaps to
illustrate his frustration with his words. “You’re good. Like, really good. You have a natural
talent that I never did. I’m better than you, and I will be for some time yet, but I’ve been
studying and practicing for years. You’ve been doing it for less than a month. You’ve only
had a sword for a week. Of course you’re going to be shit.” Zuko steadied himself,
straightening his shoulders like he was preparing to fight. “But the talent is there, even I can
see it. You have a good eye. You can move well and adjust to each new thing you learn, and
you have the smarts you need to fight creatively. So even though you are one of the clumsiest
people I’ve ever met-”

“I am not,” Sokka muttered, still reeling a little.

“You fell over your own feet yesterday.”

“There was a rock.”

“There was not.” Zuko gave him an annoyed pinchy faced look. The one that always filled
Sokka with a rush of happy feelings.

“Was too.”

“No! There was nothing, you just fell over yourself!” Zuko stopped and took some deep
breaths, his nostrils flaring with the effort of not yelling. He grit his teeth. “Even though you
are clumsy, you still show a lot of promise. Like I said, natural talent,” he almost snarled the
last words.

Sokka didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t angry anymore; he hadn’t really been angry with
Zuko anyway, just frustrated. He didn’t like how wild his emotions seemed to be, ready to go
from low to high in a heartbeat and change at the drop of a hat.

“You have talent too, Zuko.”

“Sure. I’m good at the sword. I’ve worked to be good at it. But it didn’t come naturally, or
easy. You just have to keep trying until you get it.”

“See, I think that’s your talent. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so determined before.
You don’t let things beat you, you get up and try again.”

“What else can you do?”

Sokka bent and picked up his blade. “Dunno, lie down in the dirt and die, I guess.”

“I refuse. Set your feet a little wider and keep your weight running down though your heels to
start. You want your balance to be grounded.”

Sokka smiled a little, widening his stance and getting ready to get his arse beat again.

They were still practising when Shen arrived. Sokka was hot and sweating, his arms aching,
and he was glad to see the man. Hopefully his presence would offer a distraction.

“Morning, boys,” Shen greeted them with one of his lopsided grins.

“Hello, lieutenant,” Zuko offered, his tone a little arch.

Sokka got it was some sort of joke between them, where Shen called him Zuli, and Zuko
gave him the wrong rank. But if he was honest, it baffled him a little. Not the joke, but the
friendship. Maybe he was just surprised when other people liked Zuko. Which made no sense
because he liked Zuko, so why wouldn’t other people? Perhaps it was because Shen accepted
his weirdness and aggression without the context Sokka had for it?

But that didn’t feel quite like the truth, either.

Annoyed, Sokka examined the feeling a little more closely as he watched Zuko attempt to
stare the Captain down. Even though it was just normal Zuko staring, Sokka realised it was
making him anxious. Perhaps the heart of the problem was just that he couldn’t bring himself
to fully trust Shen. He couldn’t trust any of them with Zuko. Not Shen, not the soldiers. Not
even his dad. The only people in the whole camp he felt on an even keel with were Zuko and
Panuk. The two people who were honest and blunt to the point of rudeness. They never
minced their words and Sokka appreciated the solid way that made him feel. The lack of trust
in the rest of them was unnerving. It made him feel angry and unsafe.
“We’re coming up on some villages today,” Shen told them, running a hand through his hair
as he grinned down at Zuko, completely unfazed by the glaring. “No point trying to hide
from this point on. We need supplies, so we’re going to see if they have grain and meat to sell
us. You boys fancy coming into the town?”

Now that sounded like the distraction Sokka had been looking for! “Yes!” he said.

“What for?” Zuko said, like the anti-fun sinkhole that he was.

Shen shrugged, not bothering to hide his amusement. “I know you don’t have much stuff, so
you could see if there’s anything you want to get for yourselves?”

“I don’t have any money,” Zuko said, looking annoyed. That was not strictly true, they still
had Taiju’s coins, but it was probably best to keep them for emergencies.

Shen gave him another of his little smiles and chucked him a small purse. He threw one at
Sokka too, and he snatched it out of the air to look inside. Some silver and copper pieces,
plenty to buy food and any exciting stuff he might find.

“I don’t want your pity,” Zuko snapped, still determined to ruin any potential joy in the day.

“It’s not pity,” Shen said, all casual. He had been expecting that response, clearly. “It’s pay.
You work, I pay you.”

“You feed and clothe us as payment,” Zuko pointed out. Sokka was going to smack him.

“Yeah, and I feed and clothe the rest of the 54th too, and they still get paid. Just accept it and
get yourself something. Food, clothes, weapons, a book, a pretty carving of an ostrich horse,
whatever takes your fancy.”

Zuko’s lips thinned and he glared at the purse, but he stopped arguing.

Sokka, for one, couldn’t wait. He had lost everything he owned, and although he loved his
sword, he wanted things to try to make him feel better. He wanted things to make him feel
like a person again.

Depressing thought. He doubted he would be successful. However, he was going to try to

wring every second of enjoyment out of it he could. “When do we leave?” he asked, suddenly
excited. “Quick, Li, saddle up the Dumpling!”

“Saddle up the what?” Shen asked, perplexed.

Zuko rolled his eyes and huffed, like the ridiculous and dramatic person he was.

They walked into the village in the end. Shen was still snickering over Dumpling, and Zuko
was still sulking about it, so they were off to a genuinely good start in Sokka’s books. It
wasn’t a large village compared to some that Sokka had visited with Katara and Aang, but it
was busy. It seemed to be a trade day of some sorts, where folk from the surrounding villages
came to buy and sell their goods. People seemed to have been having a good day of it, but
when the soldiers entered, they stopped and stared, looking anxious, afraid and often
unfriendly.

“I thought as we are with an Earth Kingdom army, the Earth Kingdom people would be more
happy to see us,” Sokka whispered to Zuko as they walked.

Zuko looked at him flatly. “The army is the army. People don’t trust them whatever side
they’re on. They can offer to buy stuff, but when it comes to it, if they don’t like the price,
they can just take it. Just because they’re Earth, doesn’t mean they're somehow better.”

“I sort of hate people,” Sokka muttered, trying to hang onto his good mood.

Zuko grunted and nodded, his big hat nearly falling off his head. Shen had insisted he wear
something to help hide his eyes. The shadows darkened the golden shade a little, but Sokka
was still uneasy. He felt exposed.

“What do you want to buy?” he asked, to take his mind off it.

“Nothing.”

Sokka sighed loud enough that Yuxuan, walking just behind him, started laughing. Sokka cut
him a despairing look before addressing Zuko again. “Li, you must want something.
Remember the game we played before about wanting stuff?” Oh yeah, he remembered,
Sokka held back a smile as Zuko’s cheeks flushed.

“What game? Yuxuan asked, also watching the blush getting darker on Zuko’s face.

“Just a silly game to pass the time, thinking of stuff we want for no reason other than wanting
it.” Sokka grinned back over his shoulder. “I wanted knowledge and home cooking.”

“And what did Li want? Something salacious, by the way he’s blushing!” Yuxuan seemed
gleeful at the prospect.

Zuko turned to scowl at him, nearly dislodging his hat again.

“I don’t think such things ever enter Li’s head,” Sokka said breezily. “He’s very pure of
heart.”

“What things? What are you talking about?” Zuko snapped, transferring his glare back to
Sokka with added interest.

Sokka grinned. “See? What about you, Yuxuan? What would you want?”

“A pretty girl and some excellent wine!” he laughed. “Quite boring and predictable! And
speaking of, I bet we can guess what Haoyu would want, huh? To meet his dashing hero.” He
elbowed his friend in the ribs while Haoyu protested unconvincingly.
“Fucks sake,” Zuko muttered, clearly irritated, and still embarrassed at the mention of the
Blue Spirit. He sped up his pace, forcing Sokka to increase his own, and leaving the two
soldiers playfully squabbling with each other.

“You didn’t answer my question!” Sokka huffed as he caught up. “What do you want? There
are market stalls.” He pointed to some with their brightly coloured wares laid out temptingly.
Sokka felt a little buzz of excitement. A goodfeeling, uncomplicated, a moment of joy.

“So? I don’t want anything. I don’t need anything other than what I have. Everything else
impotent to me Zhao took.”

Even the mention of that man's name threatened to suck some of the fun out of the day.
“Well, let’s get something tasty to eat.” Sokka was determined, they would have a good time
if it killed them. He pulled Zuko towards a stand where an older woman grinned at them with
stained teeth, her round face warm and creased. “Sweet treats for you?” She asked.

Sokka ran his eyes over the offered items, he couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten
something like this, something that wasn’t rice or jerky or necessary for good health and long
marches. There were egg tarts, little pastries, some fruits with syrup or honey, and something
that looked to be made of hard fried noodles, glistening with some sort of shiny coating. He
pointed to them. “One of those for me, please. Li?”

Zuko stared at the food for a long and slightly uncomfortable moment. He looked like he
might challenge the small confectionaries to a duel. After an awkward few seconds where he
glared at an unassuming little tart like it had personally offended him, he pointed to a bit of
firm looking orange fruit on a stick.

“You want sugar, salt or chilli with that?” The woman asked, eyeing him like he was a
lunatic.

“Chili and salt.”

The lady handed it over. As he reached forward to take it, he swung his head slightly to get
the hat brim out of his vision. She caught sight of his face and the corners of her mouth
turned down a little. The scar looked brutal in the bright light of the midday sun. “Here,” she
said and handed him an egg tart. “For the road. Growing boys are always hungry.” Of course
Zuko got free treats. Sokka had a recently broken nose, and he was a growing boy too, and he
never got free stuff.

Zuko was looking at the little yellow pastry like it might bite him. Sokka gave him an elbow
to the ribs. “Sorry about Li. He was bonked on the head one too many times as a child. What
do you say, Li?”

“Thanks. It’s nice.”

Well, it was a valiant effort and Sokka managed not to laugh at the confused and wooden
delivery. The old woman looked pleased, though, and a little sad. At least she was just
looking at the scar and not at his eyes. Sokka was finding that people staring at Zuko’s scar
made him very uncomfortable, although Zuko himself ignored it completely. It made
something in Sokka’s gut clench and itch.

Sokka’s noodle thing was held together with a thick sweet syrup and made a great crunch as
he ate it. Zuko seemed to enjoy his chilli and fruit on a stick. Why you would want to put
spice on fruit was beyond Sokka, but whatever. Zuko seemed less enthused by the tart,
holding it gingerly, and flickering his eyes at Sokka while they walked.

“You don’t want that?” Sokka asked hopefully.

Zuko handed it over. “The A…Aang likes these,” he said.

“The fact that this is a thing that you know still gives me the creeps,” Sokka said, taking a
bite. It was excellent, the texture just right and the pastry flaking on his chin. He made a
pleased noise, almost a moan. Spirits, it was good, even better than the noodle thing.

“Well, he wasn’t hiding it,” Zuko grumped at him. His face had gone pink again. Clearly he
was embarrassed by his freakish Avatar knowledge, as well he should be.

“Why would he? Oh, look!” Sokka grabbed Zuko’s sleeve and dragged him towards another
table, this one full of maps, scrolls and books. “Hello!” He greeted the vendor
enthusiastically.

The man behind the stall gave them an unimpressed stare. He wasn’t seeing the poor abused
kids the last lady was. He was seeing soldiers. “Can I help?” He asked.

Sokka opted to ignore the sour welcome. “Do you have anything on the local plants? Like
what’s good to eat, and what you can use for medicine and stuff?” he asked.

The man still looked suspicious, but he directed them to a small selection of books and
scrolls tucked over to the side.

“Why do you want that?” Zuko asked, leaning in close and nearly getting Sokka in the eye
with the hat brim.

Sokka nudged it away. “I still have nightmares about you dying in the forest because I didn’t
know what plants could help us. Even ones that were safe to eat could have given us water.
Something to draw out infection could have stopped your fever getting so bad it nearly killed
you.”

“It wasn’t that bad.”

“You nearly died! It was bad! And you couldn’t fight back when the Fire Nation found us,”
Sokka shuddered. “I mean, I know you fought as much as you could.” For a moment he heard
the buzzing of the flies again, in that clearing when he had thought it would be Zuko’s corpse
he was going to be finding. He could smell the scent of death; blood and shit andwrongness.
He swallowed the sensations down. “There's a gap in my knowledge and I need to fill it. I
don’t want to be in that situation again, okay?”

“Okay,” Zuko’s voice was low, like he knew what Sokka was fighting back.
The vendor leaned over and passed him another book, distracting Sokka enough to pull
himself free of the sense memory. “Here, try this one,” he said. Sokka realised he had been
listening, probably formed some ideas about what they had been through and had warmed to
them. The fading bruises on his own face probably helped too.

The new book was small and fat and had illustrations to go with the descriptions. It was
perfect. “Thanks!” Sokka told the man, who looked pleased. Yes, Sokka still had his charm.
“This is the one!” He handed it over for the man to wrap, and he felt good for once,
uncomplicatedly good when the vendor passed back the little book cased in a cheap, soft
cloth. He thanked him again, and they took their leave.

“Why are you smiling like that?” Zuko asked as they walked back through the square. “You
look like a half-wit.”

“Thanks, buddy. I am smiling because my purchase made me happy. And smiling is a thing
you do when you’re happy.”

Zuko stopped and stared at him, taking in the smile still on his face and then just gazing
almost vacantly in his direction. It was one of those looks where he was clearly trying to
work something out, but it was taking a while to make its way through his thick skull. Or
maybe because his brain worked so strangely, and simple people things seemed to confuse
him, he had to carefully untangle them before processing could occur. Sokka stopped to allow
whatever thought was trying to painfully work its way through his brain to come out his
mouth.

Instead of saying anything, Zuko spun away and walked off at a determined pace, back
towards some stalls they had passed before. Sokka watched him in bemusement. He didn’t
seem upset, just focused. And Sokka assumed he had thought of something that he wanted to
buy. Perhaps he had finally understood that this was supposed to be fun. Probably not,
though, he was almost certainly going after something boring.

Sokka examined the closest stall of belts and leather goods while keeping half an eye on
Zuko as he elbowed his way past some other customers at this chosen stall. This no doubt
endeared him to both the local clientele and the vendor, but as long as there was no shouting,
death threats or insults, Sokka figured it was okay.

Sokka was stuck in an intense internal debate of the merits of a beautiful blue and green dyed
leather pouch versus the plain brown one with a fish motif burnt into it. Both were very
appealing and equally practical, but he couldn’t really justify buying two.

“Here,” Zuko said right behind him, making him jump.

“Shit, you scared me!”

Zuko thrust a wrapped package at him impatiently, waving it slightly when Sokka didn’t take
it quick enough.

“You bought something for me?” Sokka asked, surprised and a little baffled.
Zuko was glaring at his left ear, blushing faintly. He was doing a lot of that recently. It must
be hard work keeping up the pretence of arrogance and pride when you went bright red at the
slightest provocation. Sokka tried not to grin in his face as he took the package. It was small
but weighty. And he unwrapped the thin cloth carefully. It was a folding knife, the blade
about half as long as his hand. The handle was carved bone in the pattern of curling vines.
The blade itself looked sharp and gleamed faintly as Sokka turned it in his hands.

“It’s for your plants,” Zuko almost snapped at him, clearly finding doing something nice
emotionally complicated. “The ones in the book. You can’t cut them with a sword. You
shouldn’t use it for stuff like that. You need a knife.”

Sokka was touched, a little perplexed, but definitely touched. He smiled and Zuko smiled
back, a real, non-smirky smile. It was just a little one, not a joyous grin or anything, but it
changed his whole face, made him almost look like a different person, while still being
unmistakably Zuko. The itchy feeling was back in Sokka’s gut again. It felt almost like a
good feeling this time.

He snapped shut the blade and put it in his pocket to test the weight. It was a perfect size.
“Thanks, buddy. I love it.”

Zuko’s smile turned pleased and inward, like he was proud of himself. It was an almost
obnoxiously cute expression.

“If you two boys are finished making eyes at each other?” Yuxuan said, clapping a hand on
Sokka’s shoulder and making him jump again. He very sensibly did not do the same to Zuko.

Zuko, already a little pink, went scarlet. Watching him, Sokka grinned, as did Yuxuan and
Haoyu as he joined them. Zuko’s face fell into its customary scowl and he spun away,
muttering some very rude things under his breath as he stalked off.

“That boy cusses worse than a sailor,” Haoyu said, with a chuckle.

Sokka shrugged. “He was kind of raised by sailors the past few years, I think.”

“Well, that explains it! Come, Sokka, you want to get a drink with us? We have a few hours
left of downtime before the captain rounds us up,” Yuxuan said.

Sokka turned to look at Zuko as he walked off, all stiff legged and bristly like an angry cat.

Yuxuan patted him on the shoulder again. “The captain will keep an eye on him,” he said,
steering Sokka towards the town tavern. “And let’s be real, Li will join us as soon as he
realises you aren’t following him.”

That was probably true, but Sokka still didn’t feel completely comfortable letting him out of
his sight.

“Come, I’ll show you what I bought from the back room of the bookshop.” Yuxuan wagged
his eyebrows, his grin looking a little filthy and his honey coloured eyes sparking.
Haoyu rolled his own eyes so hard they looked like they were going to fall out of his head.
“Stop corrupting the youth, Yuxuan.”

“We are the youth, you stick in the mud.”

“The younger youth!”

Sokka laughed. “Alright.” He cupped a hand to his mouth. “Li!” He called, and Zuko stopped
stomping and turned immediately. “We’re going to the tavern. Join us when you’re ready.”

Zuko nodded in acknowledgment. Hopefully he wouldn’t start any fights or set anything on
fire.

The tavern was dark and warm, and the three of them sat at a solid wooden table close to the
bar. Haoyu ordered a cheap rice wine, which was served with a clatter that indicated while
their money might be welcome, their custom was more complicated. While it was clear that
sharing the bottle was on offer, Sokka somewhat reluctantly opted to stick to tea. He wasn’t
used to alcohol and the idea of losing control of himself was terrifying, especially with the
way his emotions seemed so out of sorts. Neither of the older boys mocked him for his choice
and he settled back in his seat, feeling comfortable.

“Have you bought anything for yourself, Sokka?” Haoyu asked, taking a little sip of his wine.

Sokka showed them his finds and described the egg tart in great detail. When he showed
them the dagger, Haoyu bit his lip and looked extremely amused. “That was nice of Li,” he
said.

“He can be nice,” Sokka told him. “Not often, but it does happen.”

Yuxuan snickered. “I was going to show you some of the...artistic scrolls I got from the
bookseller. But I’m not sure they will be your thing.”

“Why wouldn’t they be? I assume by artistic scrolls, you’re referring to pictures of naked
ladies?” Sokka had been hoping he sounded like he was very worldly and was a great
connoisseur of such scrolls, rather than the truth, which was that the few dirty illustrations he
had sneaked a glance at over the years had fuelled his fantasies to a significant and probably
embarrassing degree. He suspected by the look on Haoyu’s face that he had failed to sound
quite as knowledgeable or blasé as he had been attempting.

Yuxuan chuckled. “Fair enough. If naked ladies are your thing, I can provide. I just thought
you know…” he trailed off, giving a little shrug and a smirk.

Sokka stared at him blankly. “What?”

Yuxuan stared back, looking like he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or not.

“Spirits above,” Haoyu sighed, with a hint of amused despair. “Stop talking, Yuxuan. Before
Li comes in and rips you a new one for corrupting his friend.”
“Hey,” Sokka said, a little stung. “I’m way more experienced with girls than Li.”

“You shock me,” Yuxuan said dryly, while Haoyu laughed with his head against the table.

Sokka didn’t know what they were finding so funny. He actually had no idea if it was true or
not. Zuko had never mentioned a girlfriend, or any sort of dalliance, or even passing interest.
When Sokka had questioned if his crew had taken him to a brothel, he had looked like he was
going to have an aneurysm. So Sokka had kind of assumed there had been no room in his
brain for anything but Avatar hunting over the past few years. He almost certainly hadn’t
kissed an amazing warrior woman or a princess. This might actually be something that Sokka
was better than him at. Well, that and interacting with people.

Spirits, he hadn’t thought of Yue in weeks. Sokka felt a sudden stab of guilt. He hoped she
was okay, hoped Hahn had survived the mission and then had their engagement broken
because her dad realised he was an arse. Suddenly uncomfortable with the direction of his
thoughts, he was pleased by the distraction when Yuxuan handed him a scroll.

It was much as Sokka had anticipated, and he examined it with great scientific interest. It was
a story, written in simple characters—presumably because you were not actually buying it to
read. The illustrations were more implied than explicit, and he wondered if Yuxuan had given
him something mild on purpose. It felt like he considered the age gap between them to be
vast, when it was probably only three or four years.

Well, whatever. He could feel the blush on his face just looking at this. He didn’t think he
would have been able to retain his dignity with anything more blatant, not with the older boys
already laughing indulgently at him. The pictures made him feel a familiar warming in his
gut and a certain stirring below the belt, though. This was something that had been missing
since the boat. Although his cheeks felt hot and the others were laughing at him, he was filled
with such an intense and surprising feeling of relief. They hadn’t taken this from him too, it
had just been buried under all the stress and unpleasantness. Sex was still something that he
could be interested in, and his body could still respond to it. He hadn’t realised that had even
been a concern until it wasn’t. The feeling of mild arousal made him feel normal for a
moment.

Of course, that was when Zuko arrived to ruin everything.

He sat next to Sokka with an angry thump. How could someone display irritation so
wonderfully with just the act of sitting? He truly was a master of his art.

“Li!” Haoyu greeted him with a grin. “Wine? Or will you join Sokka with tea?”

Zuko shook his head, big hat tilting alarmingly. Sokka rolled up the scroll in his hands, trying
to be subtle, and suddenly feeling uncomfortable. The combination of Zuko and sex in the
same place in his brain made his thoughts return to the boat, to Zhao and Ro, and what they
had done. Something in his gut clenched and tightened and he felt suddenly sick.

“Sokka, are you okay?” Zuko asked with some concern.

“Yeah, buddy, I’m alright. Guess that egg tart didn’t agree with me after all.”
“Shall I find you some ginger? Uncle always said ginger will settle a stomach.”

“Nah, it will pass. Thanks though.”

He took some breaths, avoided looking at Zuko and accidentally caught Haoyu’s eye instead.
He looked slightly concerned, a small furrow in his brow. Sokka suddenly wished he had
opted for the wine, so he could pass off his funny turn on being unused to alcohol. Yuxuan at
least apeared to find him hiding the scroll from Zuko funny, and was smirking into his cup.
But Haoyu seemed to be aware there was something more serious behind it, although he
clearly had no idea what that was.

“If you throw up on me again, I won’t be so quick to forgive this time,” Zuko warned him,
providing a welcome distraction.

“Oh yeah, bring that up. What happened to the blanket fort code?”

“The puking happened before the code came into effect!”

“The what the what code?” Haoyu was grinning again, no longer trying to puzzle through
Sokka’s reactions.

“Never you mind,” Sokka told him, wagging his finger. “And you!” He turned to Zuko. “I
consider that an act of gross insubordination!”

Zuko thumped an elbow on the table and pointed a finger right back. He somehow managed
to make it look assertive and aggressive rather than silly, which was annoying. “Firstly, the
vomiting happened before the blanket fort incident and the matters discussed therein.
Secondly, insubordination implies that you are above me in rank and command, which is
most certainly untrue,” Zuko said, eyes narrow. Sokka sometimes forgot Zuko was sort of in
the navy…navy adjacent? He grinned as he got poked with the finger. Zuko seemed to be on
a roll, and he wasn’t done yet. “As I am not a member of the Water Tribe hierarchy, or the
Earth Kingdom military, any superior rank you might hold is null and void in relation to me.”

He had clearly memorised all the navy handbooks so that he had a handle on all the rules and
regulations when he had taken command of his ship. And then he had probably broken every
single one of them. At least twice.

“Furthermore,” Zuko said, his eyes alight with something Sokka chose to interpret as
enjoyment. He really had a weird sense of humour buried under all the trauma, the angsty
moping, and the yelling. “The rules of the blanket fort code were not made clear, above and
beyond the fact that what was discussed there remained there.”

Of course, when it came to having the gift of the gab, Sokka was the master, he didn’t need to
have memorised a dusty old rule book to make a good case. He lifted his own finger like a
weapon, ready to fight.

Before he could get started, a man staggered into Haoyu’s chair. “Watch out!” Yuxuan said,
catching the wine bottle before it could topple.
The man looked him in the eye, and his mouth curled into a snarl. “Ashmaker,” he muttered,
not quite under his breath. Yuxuan’s lips thinned and his brows drew down, but he didn’t
respond. Haoyu looked like he wished he could come to his friend’s defence, but Sokka
suspected they had dealt with this situation many times before and it wasn’t worth it.

“What did you call him?” Zuko. Fuck, of course he would start a fight, it was like second
nature to him, as natural as breathing.

“What?” The guy turned just as Sokka yanked Zuko back into his seat.

“Nothing!” Sokka told him. “No one said anything. We’re just having a drink.”

“I called him an ashmaker,” the guy said, his face taking on a ragged hate filled scowl.

“Didn’t know they let Fire Nation into the Earth Kingdom army,” Zuko said, his raspy voice
low and dangerous. His own eyes still shadowed by the ridiculous hat.

“We’re just having a drink.” Haoyu stood, and moved in front of them, whether to prevent
harm to them or harm to the man was unclear. “Go about your business. We’ll be gone soon,
and you can bitch and moan as much as you like about us.”

The man stepped closer. He had a healed, but nasty burn on his neck, curling beneath his
shirt, and he looked like he was well into his cups by the sway in his step.

Zuko also stood despite Sokka’s efforts to keep him down.

“Do you have a problem with my men, sir?” Shen said smoothly, appearing like an apparition
from a spirit tale to save the day. Sokka felt relief wash through him. He wasn’t sure what
would have happened, but he was certain it would be trouble they didn’t need. Shen’s voice
was polite, but his large frame and confident bearing were intimidating. He didn’t need to be
threatening. The man blinked up at him, clearly trying to decide if it was worth it. He eyed
the rest of them, and very sensibly decided to go buy himself another drink instead of
fighting. The man behind the bar looked both relieved and unhappy at their continued
presence.

“Finish up and let’s go,” Shen said, eyeing the four of them like they were a bunch of
naughty kids.

Haoyu picked up the bottle of wine. “Ready, Captain.” He grinned, his own relief palpable.

Shen gave Sokka an amused look. “Glad to see you’re drinking tea. I wouldn’t like to return
you to your father half cut.”

Sokka shrugged, still feeling off balance from the sudden threat of violence. Violence for the
crime of having the wrong colour eyes. The more he thought about it, the more it upset him.
Yuxuan was fiercely loyal to his people - the Earth Kingdom. Zuko was different, Zuko was
lying about his heritage. Yuxuan wasn’t, he didn’t deserve his own people looking at him
with mistrust. Sokka was willing to bet the Fire Nation wouldn’t treat him any better either.
He suddenly wanted to get out of the tavern, out of the town and back to the safety of the
camp.

Zuko also seemed wound up both from their mock argument and the fight they had nearly
become embroiled in. He was jittery and full of nervous energy. Shen was eyeing him
carefully as they left the tavern and headed into the bright afternoon sun.

“You boys want to earn some more pay?” he asked.

“What do you want?” Zuko said, suspiciously.

“Panuk and our Earth healer have both given me lists of items they need. You boys want to
see if you can find them? Anything left over from the money I’ll give you, you can spend.”

“I don’t need your money.” Zuko said, his lower lip jutting out in a stupid expression he
almost certainly didn’t realise he was making.

“I do.” Sokka held out a hand. “I bet Li just doesn’t think he can do it. Not like me. I’m a
master at lists.”

“I can follow a fucking list, Sokka,” Zuko snarled at him.

“Can you though?” Sokka tapped a finger against his chin. “Seems to me if that’s the case,
the real question is who can do it quicker?”

Zuko gestured for the other bit of paper and Shen handed it over, his lips twitching.

“To the victor goes the spoils!” Sokka said, getting his pointing finger out again and waving
it at Zuko threateningly. He got an impressive sneer as a response.

Shen was outwardly grinning now. “Okay, so what are the spoils? The money?”

“Yeah, that, but mostly… The Rock of Victory!” Sokka dug the little bit of coal out of his
purse and held it up for everyone to admire.

“I’m pretty sure that should be mine anyway,” Zuko said. “I distinctly remember winning the
race to the river and back.”

“You cheated.”

“I did no such thing! How did I cheat?” Zuko stopped walking and put his hands on his hips
like Gran Gran did when she was fed up with Sokka pinching the food before it was cooked.

“Your legs are unnaturally long,” Sokka told him solemnly.

“That’s not cheating! Cheating would be if I kicked you over, or stole one of your boots or
something!”

Spirits above and below he was easy to get a rise out of. It was a joy that would never get old.
“Nope, long legs during a race is cheating. I don’t make the rules.”
“You are literally making up the rules, Sokka!”

“You have an hour,” Shen told them. “Winner gets the um...Rock of Victory?” He eyed it
dubiously. “Get to it, boys.” Sokka stuck his tongue out at Zuko and then watched his
retreating back as he dashed off to the first stall. No way he was going to win.

Sokka won. Of course he had won. He had rewritten his list in a more sensible order and
selected each stall accordingly. He had told each vendor he was in competition for a prize,
but he would only get the item from them, because they had been highly recommended. They
had all smiled at him indulgently and been very obliging and helpful. He was willing to bet
his whole right arm that Zuko’s methods would be more in line with demanding things and
then becoming confused and indignant when people were rude and unaccommodating. This
hypothesis was born out on more than one occasion when he visited a stall Zuko had clearly
been too first. Those vendors had been extra helpful to him.

Zuko was still sulking and had predictably refused to concede defeat. There had been one
herb, dried brittle weed, that neither of them had found. Zuko had taken it into his head that if
he managed to find it, he would be declared the winner, even though his time had been the
losing one. Why he thought he would be able to locate it in camp was beyond Sokka, but then
Zuko and impossible quests did sort of seem like a moth and a flame.

The dumbass was currently questioning what appeared to be every single soldier in the camp
on what herbs they might have hidden away. It was a pointless exercise, even if someone
inexplicably had a stash of the stuff. Sokka had won, fair and square, and the Rock of Victory
remained his.

“I hear celebrations are in order?” Sokka’s dad said with a smile as he joined him, sitting
cross-legged outside the tent.

“Yeah, I was not in any doubt of my prowess, you understand,” Sokka told him, very
satisfied. “Anyone who thinks they can beat me at lists is a pure fool.”

Hakoda chuckled. “I don’t doubt it,” he said. But then it seemed to become uncomfortable.
“Are you…” His dad looked like he didn’t know what to say or how to speak to him. It was
painful, and Sokka felt his mood souring a little. His feelings were tangling up in his chest
like they always did when he spoke to his father.

“Am I what, dad?”

“Are you doing okay? I worry about you, I can’t help it.”

“I’m alright,” Sokka said, but he was aware he didn’t really sound it. He suddenly didn’t have
the energy to pretend. At least he wasn’t angry. His anger scared him, especially when it
came to his father, who didn’t really deserve it. Sokka was well aware that his dad had little
choice about rescuing him, and even more aware that any attempt he had made would almost
certainly have resulted in his death or capture. He knew his dad didn’t deserve his ire and that
it wasn’t truly his father he was angry at all. “Li has started having nightmares. Not as bad as
the other day, but bad enough.” Between the two of them, they were not having much in the
way of restful sleep.

“Perhaps Panuk can give you something to help?”

Sokka shook his head. “Li would never take it. Wouldn’t let me either. What if we are
attacked? We can’t risk being groggy.”

“Sokka, I will protect you, Shen will, all the men in this camp. You need sleep.”

“No. I won’t get captured again. I won’t let them get their hands on Li again, not ever. I’ll
fucking kill them first.” He swallowed, closing his eyes and taking some deep breaths, trying
to fight it down. He didn’t apologise for cussing though, and his dad didn’t challenge him on
it.

“I understand. I just wish I could help. Help both of you.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” His dad sighed. “I know this has been hard on you, knowing the choice I made. It
is not one I think I would have been able to live with, not in the long term,” he admitted and
Sokka’s heart squeezed and ached, and he felt a little sick with all the feelings that were
swimming through him.

“I know, Dad. I told you I get it, and I do.”

“I’m just haunted by what might have happened if you hadn’t found us, if we hadn’t found
Zuli, Li.”

“He would have died. Me too, probably. I was going to go back for him. Try to rescue him,
or…” He couldn’t bring himself to finish the thought. Or kill him. It would have been the
kindest thing to do.

“It’s just...I just want you to know you can trust me, you can still trust me, even though I
couldn’t come for you.” His dad looked like a broken man for a moment and Sokka
swallowed hard. He hated it. “I’m sorry, Sokka.”

“I do trust you.” It was half true.

“In many ways, I guess it worked out. We found one another, and we wouldn’t have, if you
had followed your intel.”

“What intel?” Sokka asked. “We were just running inland, trying to get away from the sea.”
He kicked a heel into the ground, scuffing the dirt.

Hakoda rubbed a hand over his face, looking at Sokka sideways, like he still didn’t believe
him. “Li said that he knew we had been heading east. He was confused that we had turned
north.”
Sokka blinked. “No, Li didn’t know where you were, any more than I did. It was pure chance
we ran into you.”

It was obvious his dad didn’t believe him and thought he was lying for some reason. Hakoda
shrugged uncomfortably. “He was pretty clear. He said why are you heading north, it’s
supposed to be east. I assumed you knew where we were heading and deliberately went a
different way, because I had abandoned you. Are you saying that is not the case?”

Sokka’s heart was beating hard against his chest, a sick feeling pooling in his gut. Had Zuko
known? Had he seen information in Zhao’s cabin and then lied about it? Or at the very least,
failed to mention it. Failed to mention he knew where Sokka’s dad was. Failed to mention
where help was and had nearly gotten them both killed. Dimly he was aware that the
information Zuko had apparently learned had been out of date, and if they had opted to go
east, they probably would have died for it. But that was not the point. He had lied to Sokka’s
face a lie of omission at least, and then just sat on that information, like he had done nothing
wrong. At least when Sokka made a morally dubious choice, he owned it. Like when he had
eavesdropped on Panuk talking to Zuko. He had come right out and admitted it. He had done
it for the right reasons, and was not ashamed of it.

Somehow, even with the shock of potential betrayal, he felt like rolling his eyes. It was such a
stupid, selfish, Fire Nation thing to do.

Of course, Sokka might be wrong. He might be.

He hoped he was.

The anger churned and swelled, and he pushed up off the ground and set out to find the
bastard. Zuko was a shit liar. He would know as soon as he questioned him.

“Sokka!” His father called, concern clear in his voice.

Sokka ignored him.

He hoped he was wrong, or spirits above and below, he and Zuko were going to have words.

…………………….

Acting Captain Ro eyed the papers on the desk They documented all the men and goods he
had received from Tsing. There were not as many soldiers as he was hoping for, the general
was busy plotting to raid the ferries taking refugees into Ba Sing Se, hoping to thin out the
amount of combat aged people entering the city before some big attack he was helping to
orchestrate. But he had sent enough for what Ro was planning. And he had also provided
some nasty surprises for Hakoda and the Earth rabble.
Tsing was a man who was used to fighting dirty. Some of his best and most acclaimed battles
were won on the back of such tactics. There was no sacrifice too small, and even their own
men fell victim to his ambition. The man was good at what he did, and the Fire Lord
appreciated him. Ro did too, he respected his ruthlessness. As long as he was not one of those
given up for the greater good.

Another of Tsing’s notable tactics was the use of ambush and using the terrain against the
enemy. He had provided some impressive items to assist Ro. But even without those, he was
glad he would hit them on land. Zhao may look down on the Water Tribes small wooden
boats, but Ro had seen them in action. Their speed and manoeuvrability was impressive, and
the savages themselves were fierce. Ro preferred to engage with the enemy only when he
knew he could win. And he would win.

Of course, Tsing was going to claim credit for his victory. But if Ro could kill Zuko and
recapture the Water Tribe boy, then he was willing to share the glory.

He looked at the wicked contraption on the table with a certain level of appreciation. A
mantrap, made to snap closed under pressure and snare a man’s leg. While they were useful
in capturing people, they also made folks nervous enough to slow them down, and made
corralling fleeing troops easier. The metal of it gleamed dully in the firelight. Ro wet his lips
as he thought about what it must feel like to have a limb caught in such a thing. The jaws
snapping shut. He had never seen one in action, and he wondered if there was enough force to
snap bone, or if the jagged teeth in some of them would just cut through flesh and tear sinew
with the ease of a tiger-shark ripping into a meal.

He hoped he caught at least one of his targets in the cruel jaws, but if not, there were other
ways. He fully intended to take his water rat back, Ro wasn’t done with him yet. He wanted
Hakoda too. He wondered how much it would take to break a man like that, wondered if he
could use his son to do it. Zhao wanted them alive, and he would get them alive. But not
Zuko. Zuko had to die, and he had to die faster than he deserved. Ro would make his last few
hours memorable ones, for himself at least, and perhaps the water rat too. Make him watch
Zuko suffer first. Ro’s pants were getting a little tight at the thought of the things he could do
given free rein, things to pay him back for all this trouble. Ro was going to burnhim, he
suspected that would get the reaction he was looking for. And after that, he couldn’t wait to
kill the little bastard, slowly.

“Acting Captain Ro?”

Ro turned to face Chen, putting aside pleasant thoughts for now. Acting Captain. He did like
the promotion. He hoped that when he brought Zhao the Water Tribe boy, even with the
unfortunate death of Zuko, he might lose the acting part and be promoted for real. Maybe get
his own command.

“The Earth Kingdom troops have left the village,” Chen told him. His voice lacking
inflection.

Ro leaned back on his heels, letting a smile form on his face. His eyes narrowed as he
thought through his plan. “Good. Wait for three hours, then burn it to the ground. I want
 prisoners, as many as you can safely handle. Men, women and children. I need a few of them
to be fit enough to carry a message back to Hakoda and the troops.”

“Why?” Chen asked, his dead eyes fixed on the mantrap.

“To see if they are willing to trade.” Ro poured himself a small measure of wine. He needed
to keep a clear head, but he felt like celebrating.

“I shouldn’t think they will be, not for a bunch of peasants,” Chen said, trailing a finger
across the shiny metal of the trap. “They may give up Zuko, but they won’t give up the Water
Tribe boy.”

“No, I’m not expecting them to. That would ruin the fun parts.” Chen’s lips tipped up in the
smallest of smiles, he enjoyed those bits too. “But they will come after us, and we will be
ready for them. Divide and conquer, First Lieutenant Chen.”

Chen nodded, clearly already imagining the carnage.

Ro tapped his maps with one finger. “We need to be ready. I need detailed intel of their next
campsite. We need to time it right, before the villagers crawl into their encampment looking
for help. Send people out, so they’re ready.”

Chen bowed as he left the tent and Ro sat down, satisfied. He did enjoy being in charge, and
the prospect of prisoners was equally exciting. There was no commander or admiral telling
him to stop, or reminding him of the rules of engagement.

He was made for missions like this, and he was going to prove he was damn good at them.

Chapter End Notes

Next chapter... Sokka is angry, Zuko is upset, Shen has a tough choice to make and
Hakoda would very, very much just like a small pause in which to have his own
breakdown and attempt to process everything that has happened to him and his family.

😬
But he can't, because there is a war on and he has to try to parent dramatic teenagers
instead.
 Chapter 10
Chapter Summary

Shen massaged the bridge of his nose. Fucking teenagers. Why would anyone be a
parent on purpose?

Chapter Notes

Oy, what a month. Sorry it took a while, please enjoy this angst.

Warnings: Violence (between the boys), angst, mention of non-con, politics, racist
language towards people of mixed heritage.

Many thanks to my beta burkesl17, who has managed to wrangle my dyslexic nonsense.
All mistakes are my own.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Sokka’s anger was a wild untamed thing. As soon as he got a hold of it, it bubbled free again,
his blood felt like it was pumping in his temples, pounding and aching like it was trying to
break through his skin entirely.

Zuko had a stroppy look on his face as he strode back through the camp. Clearly he had been
unable to find the brittle weed and was having to consider defeat. Not something he was
naturally very good at. The sight of him caused Sokka’s emotions to bombard him twice as
hard. Feelings of betrayal and affection, warring and tangling. He couldn’t stand the
confusion in his mind.

“Zuko,” he hissed, as low as he could and still be heard. Calling him Li, or Zuli right now
just didn’t sit right. He had to remind himself exactly who he was speaking to.

Zuko looked up. He caught sight of Sokka and his expression and body changed immediately,
shifting towards defence. Even over the rushing in his ears, Sokka marvelled at the fact Zuko
could read him so easily and yet still be so shit at interpreting what he gleaned from his face.
He certainly knew Sokka was mad at him, and he looked cautious, eyes narrowed and
watchful.

“You knew,” Sokka snarled at him, pointing his finger with none of the playfulness of earlier.

“I know lots of things, Sokka.”

Irritating bastard. Sokka didn’t want him to be reasonable, or evasive or helpful, he wanted
him to be challenging and difficult so he could lash out. Even as he thought it, the feeling
flip-flopped again, and all he wanted was for this to be a misunderstanding. “You knew
where my father was, didn’t you?” he said, the accusation keeping his voice hard. “You
directed us the wrong way.”

Zuko said nothing, just looked at him with his yellow eyes. But he didn’t need to speak, it
was obvious he had done exactly that, Sokka could see it in his face. He didn’t even look
guilty, just kind of resigned. The betrayal stung so hard it felt like a physical blow. Sokka
bared his teeth like an animal, trying to fight through the feeling that he had been taken for a
fool. He kept forgetting who Zuko was, what he was. Honour and trust meant nothing to them
outside of their own stupid rules and people.

“You lied to me!” He had planned to keep his voice down, but he couldn’t. The pounding,
rushing feeling was sweeping through him, carrying off his sense like a river carrying debris
down to the sea. He felt like a boat being dashed against the rocks.

Zuko dropped his eyes and breathed hard for a second, then he raised them defiantly, his
expression fierce. “If we had followed the coast, then they would have caught us,” he said.

“That’s not the point!” Sokka stepped forward until he was in Zuko’s space, only a foot away
from him. “That’s something we could have discussed, but you took that choice away from
me!” Spirits he was angry.

Zuko took half a step back and then seemed to reconsider, straightening his shoulders and
moving forward again. “It doesn’t matter anyway!” he snapped. “They turned north and if we
had gone east, then we would have missed them.”

“That’s not the fucking point, you bastard! Don’t pretend you don’t get it, because I know
you do. You’re not stupid, although I do sometimes wonder the shit you pull.” Sokka could
feel his whole body shaking with anger. He was distantly aware people were watching. “You
betrayed my trust! You took away my choice. I would think you would be someone who
could understand why that might suck!”

Zuko blanched. That had landed at least. “Sokka-”

Sokka drew a hand down between them, cutting him off. “No, I don’t want to hear it. You
couldn’t even just apologise.” He looked at him, breath panting out in furious puffs, the anger
still so tight and hard in his chest, coiling and churning. “Because you're not sorry, are you?”

Zuko raised his chin again, defiant, the way he had been when dealing with Zhao on the boat.
So no, he wasn’t even sorry. And somehow that was worse than what he had done. The anger
rushed in and Sokka lost himself for a moment.

When the haze cleared, Zuko was sitting on his butt in the dirt, holding a hand to his face.
The blood seeping through his fingers. Sokka had punched him, he had to have done,
considering the pain in his hand and the wild way his heart was beating. He wanted to run
away, to apologise, and he wanted to do it again, he wanted to kick the arsehole in his stupid,
lying mouth.

He couldn’t even remember doing it. That was the worst past. What was wrong with him?

Zuko wiped some blood haphazardly across his face with the back of his hand. He opened his
mouth and shut it again. Sokka couldn’t tell if it was because he was sorting through his
feelings to assess if he was actually sorry after all, or because he was trying to come up with
some sort of convincing argument. He pushed himself up, glaring at Sokka, but not
maintaining eye contact properly. “You’re right,” he said, his voice infuriatingly calm. “I’m
not sorry about not telling you-” he started.

Sokka saw red. He launched himself at him. Knocking him back and punching him again. It
took a second to realise Zuko wasn’t fighting him, if he had, then Sokka would have lost, and
lost badly, but instead, he was just lying there, protecting his face with his arms, his knees
drawn up and nudging Sokka in the back where he was straddling him.

“Sokka!” His dad was yelling. Sokka felt strong arms wrapping around his chest and lifting,
pulling him off Zuko. He got a kick in as he was dragged backwards, which felt satisfying for
a moment. But only for a moment, then he felt horrible, sick, confused guilt.

“Sokka, calm down,” his dad said, with slight recrimination in his voice. Suddenly
overwhelmed again, Sokka shook him off fiercely. He couldn’t bear to see Zuko, couldn’t
trust himself not to lose it again, he couldn’t trust not to break down and humiliate himself
with tears either. So he couldn’t return to their tent, instead he took off back to healer Panuk’s
at an embarrassingly desperate run. He just needed some time to get his thoughts together.

He didn’t have the chance though, because of course his father followed him. “Sokka,” he
said as he entered the tent, but then didn’t continue. He clearly didn’t know where to start.
Sokka didn’t either. Now his anger had faded, he just felt tired. And guilty. “He didn’t fight,”
he said, a little stupidly.

Hakoda sighed and sat on the woven mat with him.

Sokka couldn’t bring himself to meet his father’s eyes. “I thought he would fight. Usually if
he feels threatened, he’ll respond aggressively. That’s what he always does.” Instead, he had
let Sokka punch him. There was blood still smeared on his knuckles. Sokka stared at it,
horrible feelings squirming in his belly.

“Perhaps he felt guilty,” His dad said quietly. “It’s not unheard of for a man to allow a
punishment if he feels it is deserved.”
“He wasn’t guilty though, he wasn’t sorry.” Sokka ran through what he remembered of the
fight. It wasn’t a lot, which was terrifying. He may not have felt guilty about that, but there
was some reason he hadn’t fought. Was it guilt over something else? Had he done something
worse? Sokka wouldn’t have entertained the thought yesterday. But that was yesterday. The
missing puzzle piece was making him feel a little unhinged. He didn’t like not understanding,
not knowing.

“And you? How are you feeling?” His dad asked. His tone was gentle.

“Terrible,” Sokka admitted. “I shouldn’t have hit him. Don’t get me wrong, he deserved it,
but just because he deserved it doesn’t mean I should have done it.” He flexed his aching
hand. “If I hit him every time he did something that made me angry, I wouldn’t have any
knuckles left. He’s a very annoying person.”

Hakoda chuckled, although Sokka couldn’t help but feel it was a little forced.

“The thing is,” Sokka continued, still staring at the smear of blood. “I feel like this is how
people always deal with him being a shit. I know there have been one or two good people in
his life, some who have been… patient. But most of them seem to have been…” Violent.
Physically or verbally. He couldn’t quite finish the sentence out loud.

Sokka rubbed at his face with both his hands, digging his fingers into his skin. “The worst
part is, he’s right. I mean, I’m right too.” Spirits, he even sounded like Zuko, talking in stilted
half sentences. “He shouldn’t have done what he did, he should have spoken to me about it.
But if we had gone east, we would have missed you. Zhao would have caught us and we
would be dead, or captured again, which would be worse.”

“He shouldn’t have kept it from you, though.”

“No, he shouldn’t. I would never have done that. Not after everything we’ve been through.
But I can’t say for certain that I would have listened to him if he had insisted we went north.”
Sokka lowered his hands and met his father’s eyes, “It might have killed me, killed both of
us. How can I reconcile that fact with the way I feel about it?”

“It’s okay to feel betrayed and let down. It worked out for the best, and his deceit may have
saved your life, but his motives, whatever they were, might not have been in your best
interest at the time.” His dad was looking at him earnestly. “He didn’t know we had turned
north, it was just a lucky chance. However, I don’t think he intended any harm to you. I
suspect he correctly assumed that his appearance would make it hard for us to accept him,
and he felt unsafe joining more soldiers who might view him as an enemy.”

“I know, I know he didn’t intend harm. And I can make a pretty good guess at his motives.
He has nothing and nobody, everything was stripped away from him in a way I can’t even
describe. He didn’t want to be alone. I know that, I get it. But he couldn’t admit it.” Sokka
waved an angry hand back towards where he had left Zuko. “He couldn’t even apologise to
me. I don’t know if he even understands why I’m so upset.”

Hakoda sighed and gave Sokka a slightly rueful smile. “You will have to ask him. Without
your fists. I suspect you will get more answers that way.” He shrugged. “It might also be that
he just acted without thinking it through. Aren’t you always saying he acts before he thinks?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Sokka said. He suspected that wasn’t the case this time, though. But he was
feeling too many things to really sort through his emotions. The mix of anger, betrayal,
sympathy and guilt was spinning through him, making him feel a little nauseous. But hey, at
least he’d had a conversation with his dad without getting mad at him? One rather pathetic
plus point, but he would take them where he could find them.

“Check he’s okay for me, please?” he asked. “I’m still mad at him, but I don’t know how he’s
going to take this, and I know he will be…upset. He might be a bit of a dick if you speak to
him.”

“Of course. I’ll check on him, and if it’s okay, I will fill Shen in as well. He keeps a close eye
on the boy.”

“Yeah, fine by me. Can you get my pouch? I left it in our tent. I’m going to stay here for a
few days.” It would be for the best to have a little space to calm himself down and to sort out
his feelings. The pure force of Zuko’s personality seemed to overwhelm him sometimes, and
he found himself being amused or indulgent rather than angry or cautious like he should be.
He needed a bit of time to remember who he was, who he had been before he had somehow
become bosom buddies with the son of the fucking Fire Lord.

“Of course. I’ll pick up your stuff, and I will make sure Li is okay.”

Sokka nodded. He closed his eyes, tilting his head back and forcing away miserable,
confused tears. “Thank you, Dad.”

……………………

This was the meeting that Shen had been dreading. He knew it as soon as he entered Huang’s
tent. The atmosphere was tense and watchful and the lack of any Water Tribe representatives
was very obvious.

“Captain Shen, good of you to join us,” Yao said, a smug twist to his lips, like he was
implying Shen was late, when he had only received the summons five minutes ago. It felt like
things were stacked against him before they had even begun. Shen was used to fighting his
corner, he always had been and he always would be. It was what made him a good leader. He
did what he was told, yes, but he would fight tooth and nail to avoid compromising his
morals or his men. He felt that this particular struggle was not going to be one that he could
win, however. He was just hoping he could prevent a complete disaster.

Looking at the men surrounding the low table, Shen knew that this was going to be him
versus the rest of them, and it made Hakoda’s absence glaringly obvious. “I came as soon as I
was summoned, Yao,” he said. Keeping his voice light and pleasant. “Do you want to tell me
what this clandestine meeting is about?”

Yao snorted. “Clandestine? We’re Earth, not Water, you should remember that, Captain. You
spend too much time with people who do not have the same priorities as us. Water Tribes and
half-breeds.” He sneered.

Shen kept his anger contained and his face calm. “Shall we tell Hakoda we no longer need his
assistance? Shall we send him away and leave Ba Sing Se undefended from the river?”

“We can use them without muddying our allegiance.”

“Who said anything about muddying? The general asked me to keep Hakoda on side and I
have done my best. I like the man. He is someone I have no shame working with.” He left the
vague implication of the shame he might feel working with Yao festering in the air. Shen
didn’t like his isolationist hard line ideas. He especially didn’t like the fact he had no
compunctions using the Water Tribes or those of mixed heritage when they were useful, or as
cannon fodder, but was quite happy to scorn them behind their backs. His views were just
Fire Nation dressed up as Earth, and it infuriated Shen that people didn’t seem to be able to
see that.

The candlelight in the tent was low, with the last of the sun just starting to fade outside. The
shadows were long and flickered as Shen straightened his spine further, squaring his
shoulders. “Can we get to the point?” he asked, suddenly tired. He hated politics. “I have
tasks to do today.”

“Like spending time with your pet Ashmaker?” Yao said, a biting smile on his face.

Shen grit his teeth and counted down from five. Losing his temper would not gain him
anything, and it was clear that’s what Yao was aiming for with his barbed words. “Again, the
general asked that I keep an eye on him, and he asked that I earn the kid’s trust, which I have
done.” Not as calm as he would have liked, but not nearly as aggressive as he felt.

“And you have done your task well,” Huang cut in smoothly. It worried Shen that he had
allowed that squabble to go on as long as he had. It reinforced the feeling that Huang was
already in Yao’s corner.

“He’s a messed up kid in a lot of pain. Being nice to him is hardly a chore,” Shen snapped,
although he probably shouldn’t have. He had to keep his temper in check.

Huang nodded. “You have Hakoda’s boy in the camp, too. That was unexpected.”

Oh, that wasn’t a good avenue for this conversation to go down. He couldn’t help feeling like
he was about to have to try to juggle Hakoda and Sokka’s well-being as well as Zuli’s. “His
relationship with his father is complicated,” Shen offered reluctantly.

Huang hummed quietly. “He also likes and trusts you. He is your runner, is he not?”
Shen nodded, resisting the urge to rub his temples. “He is. He has a good head for inventory,
he’s smart, like his father.” But currently very vulnerable. It wouldn’t be hard for Shen to use
him, to manipulate him for Huang’s benefit. Sokka did like Shen, although he clearly didn’t
fully trust him. There appeared to be a lack of trust in any adult at present. But that was
something Shen knew he could use if he had to, and could probably turn him against his
father with a bit of careful planning.

But quite frankly, Shen would rather cut off his own arm than do any such thing. Just the
thought that this might be something that Huang could consider filled him with a low,
burning fury. He just had to hope he could find a way to get through it, if that was a direction
Huang commanded him to go in. It would be extremely close to treason, but a word to
Hakoda could easily send that plan off course. But right now it was Zuli’s situation that was
more complicated. He didn’t have the protection Sokka had, although Hakoda would almost
certainly step in if he knew what was happening before it was too late for him to take action.
The Fire Nations’ interest in the kid just offered too many opportunities for Huang and Yao.
And certain fractions in the Water Tribes too. Hakoda would only be able to do so much if the
other chiefs agreed with Huang.

Navigating this conversation and what would follow was going to be very tricky, and Shen
wasn’t sure he could get both of them out of it intact. “Let’s cut to the chase,” he said,
looking Huang in the eye. “Why did you call us here?”

Huang sat back. His craggy face was assessing and his body was still, showing no agitation
or outward sign of concern. “We have come to a place in our journey where having the
admiral on our back is going to be an issue,” he began. “We are approaching the point of no
return. We can’t risk the Fire Nation being behind us, as well as in front. Not to mention the
fact they could warn the encampments outside the city.”

That last part was ostrich horse shit. It was just as likely that spies and sympathisers in the
towns and villages they passed would warn the Fire Nation on the front lines. Most people
wanted to be safe and free, but there were always those who didn’t care where their coin
came from and were willing to sell out their own people. It was an ugly part of humanity, but
that was reality. “What do you suggest?” he said, like he couldn’t guess.

“We choose our battle ground and draw the admiral out.” Huang said decisively. Yao’s smirk
grew, just enough to raise Shen’s blood pressure.

“By using Li,” Shen said flatly.

“Unless you have another suggestion? He is what the admiral wants, after all. He murdered
the Fire Lord’s son.”

“Something that perhaps we should reward him for, rather than penalise,” Shen pointed out.

Yao snorted, looking down his thin nose at the rest of the gathered men. Prick. “We aren’t
penalising anyone. We’re using the tools we have been given. We can draw the admiral out
and remove the threat to the brat as well as to ourselves.”
Shen shook his head in disbelief. “You’re talking about using a traumatised boy as bait for his
rapist. How can you possibly justify that?” he snapped, unable to keep a firm hold on his
temper. He couldn’t believe what they were suggesting. His tone was probably not one he
should be using to his commanding officer.

Huang’s lips thinned, and his eyes narrowed. “When I told you to keep a watch on him, I did
not mean for you to get attached.” Despite the disapproval and irritation on his face, his tone
was deceptively mild.

“I would feel the same way about any child,” Shen insisted. Which, while true, was also
pointless.

Yao scoffed again. “Child? He’s not a child, he’s old enough to have seen combat. Old
enough to have murdered the prince.”

“Murdered? Interesting choice of words when talking about a casualty of war. The kid is
sixteen. Too young to fight at the front. Just because war has forced him into an adult role,
doesn’t mean it’s right or he’s any less a child. I joined the army at fifteen, but my
commander kept me out of combat until I had reached my majority.”

Huang cleared his throat, clearly a little uncomfortable with the reminder. They didn’t spend
time with the boys, they didn’t see how achingly young they were. Both of them were forced
into positions kids should never have to be in. Huang knew he was in the wrong.

“We won’t let him come to harm, Captain Shen,” the general said. “We will use him, yes, but
we will protect him.”

“That is harm! Not necessarily physical, but what you are suggesting will cause him harm.
He’s been abused and tortured by these men. Dangling him in front of them as bait is going to
be terrifying! It’s going to destroy any trust he has in us.”

“Remind me why we care about some half-breeds trust?” Yao asked snidely. “General Huang
is correct. You have grown too attached.” He smoothed his hands down his front, settling
imaginary creases in his uniform. He was a man who knew that the room was on his side. “I
agree that sacrificing our people, especially children, is not something we should ever do
without great reason. But when it comes down to it, our mission is important enough to
warrant it. Is this one boy’s life and wellbeing more important than those of the children of
Ba Sing Se? They are depending on us, all of them.”

Shen cursed the man. He had Huang fully back on side with that. What was worse was he
was completely correct; saving Ba Sing Se and all her people was more important. Of course,
Yao was quite happy to enjoy making his point by rubbing some extra salt in the wound.

“You understood this when it was Hakoda making this choice. Have you grown so fond of
this boy that you would ignore your own advice?”

Yeah, it was not looking good. Not for Zuli, and to be honest, not for Shen’s career either.
“I’m not suggesting we do nothing about the admiral, I’m just asking you to look at other
options, or at least approach this carefully,” Shen said. He took a couple of calming breaths,
biting back more angry words. Shit, it really couldn’t be more obvious that he was attached to
the kid, dangerously so. Almost to the point of being compromised. How did that even
happen?

Huang’s eyes narrowed at his tone. “Hakoda was willing to leave his only son in these men’s
hands to complete this mission. And yet you are daring to argue with me about this?” he said.
His voice was even and quiet, but the threat was implicit.

General Huang was not a small man. Certainly he was daunting in his youth, but he still had
to look up at Shen. Didn’t make much of a difference though, he didn’t need physical size to
be intimidating. He had presence, he wore his command like armour and he wore it well.

And his word was law.

He stood, staring Shen down. “Are you challenging my authority in this, Captain Shen?” He
asked, still dangerously calm.

Shen breathed in and out. He didn’t look the man in the eye, although he wanted to. As it
was, the disrespect of the time he was taking to answer was very close to insubordination.

There was a feeling like the air had been sucked out of the tent.

Shen fixed his eyes on a point behind Huang’s shoulder. “No, General,” he said at last. “As
you command, so I obey.”

Shen stepped clear of the tent and kept his face as blank as possible as he strode away. They
had given him some time, not much, but a few days, a week at most. Enough time for him to
try to persuade Zuli to do what they wanted without a fight.

Except the kid would fight, Shen was certain of it. There was no way he would consent to
doing what they wanted under any circumstances that didn’t require the use of… leverage.

When it came to it, Shen wasn’t sure he could bring himself to force him. He was trapped—
he couldn’t disobey Huang, but also couldn’t accept what he had been ordered to do. With the
ease of long practice, he shoved aside the brief feeling of panic and squashed the despair. He
would find a way, he just had to think carefully. He would speak to Hakoda too, the man was
clever, his mind worked in a less linear way to Shen’s, more suited to puzzles and
complicated manoeuvres. The catch, because of course there would be a catch, was not to let
anyone think he was conspiring with him. Right now, Shen’s position was tenuous.
Challenging Huang, even though he had backed down, was going to cause tension at best and
suspicion at worst, and the impact of it was currently uncertain. It was obvious he and
Hakoda’s views on matters were more aligned than they were with Rakuq or Yao. He was
going to have to tread carefully.

“That doesn’t look like a good face,” Guo said, as he fell into step beside him. “I’ve got a bad
feeling today, and that face doesn’t give me confidence.”
“As well it shouldn’t. It has not been a good day so far,” Shen said. His stomach was still
churning with indecision and anger, and he didn’t know the best way to release it. So instead
he was just going to go through the motions. Get to work and make sure his company was
running well and was ready for whatever was required of them. Half the men were on their
downtime, talking and playing stones by the fires. The rest of them were alert and watchful.
Guo wasn’t the only soldier with a bad feeling today.

He needed to check on the boys, but he decided to put it off for a while. He didn’t want them
to see his concern and frustration. They had enough on their plates without borrowing trouble
before it was an issue. He would give them a few more days while he chewed over the
situation, and hopefully, came up with a solution.

“Things didn’t go well with the general?” Guo asked, glancing up at him out of the corner of
his eye.

“Nope.”

“Do we have a plan?”

It was nice Shen’s men trusted him to have a plan, even if he actually had fuck all. “Nope.”

Guo snorted.

“Captain Shen?” Haoyu called, hurrying toward him, looking anxious and not nearly as
drunk as he should have been given his day of downtime. “Have you seen Li?” he asked, his
expression concerned.

Shen rubbed his face tiredly. “Not yet, should I have? Is there a problem?” he asked with
some trepidation.

“He and Sokka had a fight,” Haoyu said, his green eyes very dark and serious in the failing
light.

Guo snorted. “Lover’s tiff?”

“I don’t know what it was about, but Sokka threw a couple of punches, and he moved back
into Healer Panuk’s tent. I wasn’t sure if it might be something connected to your…meeting
with the general, so I thought I should let you know.”

Shen massaged the bridge of his nose. Fucking teenagers. Why would anyone be a parent on
purpose?

“Thank you, Haoyu. Either of them seriously hurt?” He asked. They were both clearly
suffering from battle fatigue, and Shen knew from experience that could result in serious
issues with uncontrollable bursts of temper.

Haoyu shrugged a shoulder. “I think they might have matching broken noses now, but Li
didn’t hit back, and Hakoda pulled Sokka off before things could get out of hand.”
That was odd. Shen would bet his whole pay Zuli would win in a physical altercation. He
moved like he knew how to fight. Shen groaned internally, he could admit he probably spent
a bit too much time watching him, trying to figure him out. He was a bunch of contradictions:
Aggressive and demanding and awkward and shy. Moved like a fighter, but held himself back
when it seemed it would be to his advantage to prove himself.

Shen wasn’t sure if the boys being on the outs was going to make this easier or harder. He
had to decide what to do, but he was increasingly concerned that trying to save Zuli could
end up being treason. There had to be a path that protected him and still allowed Shen to do
his duty. He just didn’t know what the fuck that path would look like. Perhaps Hakoda would
be able to use that big brain of his to help, it was clear Shen had to speak to him, to warn him
at least.

They walked through the camp, keeping their pace even and unhurried. Shen wasn’t sure if
he should check on Zuli, he wasn’t sure how he would react to a fight with Sokka. Not
wonderfully, probably. He could send Haoyu, and go find Hakoda, then catch up with the kid
after, having hopefully gotten a little clarity on what to do next.

That seemed like a sensible plan of action, but before he could do more than open his mouth
to ask Haoyu to find Zuli, a commotion started at the other side of the camp.

“What’s happening?” Haoyu asked. Men were shouting and running, milling about like a
hive of angry hornets.

“Sounds like trouble,” Guo said.

Trouble was not what Shen wanted today, it really wasn’t. He caught hold of one of Yao’s
men as he went haring up the path towards Huang’s tent. “What’s going on?” he demanded.

The man huffed a little, winded from his run. “Fire Nation attacked the village we were in
earlier. They burned it. Took some townspeople, killed the rest. Sent a few back with a
message.”

Haoyu gasped in outrage at the mention of the murdered civilians, the people they had
shopped from and drunk with only hours ago.

Shen felt a tingling chill run down his spine. Why now? Why when things were so fraught
and difficult? Nothing could just be simple. He could hazard a guess what that message
would be, too. The bastards had set the same trap Huang was planning, but in reverse. And
somehow, Zuli was still stuck in the middle of it.

“How bad is it?” he asked.

The man sucked in a breath. “Bad, by the sound of it,” he said, shaking his head. “The ones
that arrived in the camp had burns, nasty ones. The men that attacked them were after nothing
but death or capture.” His mouth pinched in disgust.

Shen nodded stiffly and let the man go. They watched him run towards the general’s tent.
This was definitely going to make things worse.
“Li is one of ours, Captain,” Guo said. “We can’t give him up.”

Shen breathed out long and hard. Clearly the fact Zuli was going to be the target of this was
obvious to everybody. “No, we can’t. I won’t allow it.” Having said that, he had no idea how
he could stop it, if Huang decided that was the course of action he wanted to take.

There was so much anger in his belly. Fury at the Fire Nation for casually murdering civilians
to get what they wanted, anger at what had happened to Zuli and Sokka, causing this situation
in the first place. Anger at his own people, who were considering using a traumatized boy as
bait to draw out a war criminal. And anger at the fact he didn’t trust his superiors enough to
be sure they wouldn’t hand the kid over in an exchange of hostages.

“Haoyu, find Yuxuan and check on the boys. Keep an eye on them, let me know if anyone
but Hakoda approaches Zuli. Sokka should be okay, but I want one of you to keep watch on
him, anyway. Guo, come with me.”

Haoyu nodded and darted off towards the rest of the company. Guo stepped to his side. “I’ve
got your back, Captain. Whatever the orders are.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it, more than I can say.” Shen squared his shoulders and readied
himself for a fight as he turned and headed back towards Huang’s tent.

…................................................

Zuli was packing his few meager belongings when Hakoda reached his tent. He held back a
sigh. The kid had a ferocious frown on his face. His nose was a little swollen, although he
seemed to have set it. The skin around his right eye was red and would no doubt be a very
exciting colour tomorrow.

“Li?” he asked, remaining by the tent entrance.

The boy jumped, looking at him with guilty eyes. “Chief Hakoda,” he said.

Hakoda opted to ignore the packing for the moment, and focus on his health. “Are you okay?
Do you want me to ask Panuk for a poultice for your eye?”

Zuli blinked up at him, he looked perplexed. “No, it’s fine. It was only a few bumps and
bruises, nothing to worry about.”

“If you say so. Is the rest of you okay?”

“Yes.” He sat back on his haunches and stared up at Hakoda with his Fire Nation eyes. “I will
be gone soon.” He averted his gaze and stared at Hakoda’s ear. “I would ask for a few extra
minutes to say goodbye to some people who have been…to some people here. If you will
permit it?”
Oh boy. He clearly thought Hakoda was here to boot him out the camp. Hakoda resisted the
urge to bury his face in his hands and scream. He could barely deal with Sokka’s issues at the
moment, and he was easy and familiar—the opposite of Zuli, who was confusing and
different and clearly a very messed up kid.

He moved into the tent and out of the way of the flap, keeping the exit clear, and then sat, his
movements as casual and non-threatening as possible. Zuli’s golden gaze followed him
carefully.

“If you leave without saying goodbye to Sokka, you will break his heart, you know that
right?”

The boy looked both hopeful and horribly confused.

“He asked me to check up on you. He doesn’t want you to leave. People get angry and fight,
Li. It’s normal.”

“But...” Zuli was still looking at him like he was going to suddenly metamorphose into a
moose lion and bite him.

Hakoda let out the sigh, despite his efforts to hold it back. “You need to apologise and talk it
through. That’s all.”

Zuli shook his head, looking off into space for a moment, apparently sorting through his
thoughts. “I’m not,” he said at last.

“You’re not what?”

“Sorry.” He glanced at Hakoda, then flicked his eyes away in that strange manner he had
sometimes. “I’m not sorry, because if we had gone east, he would have caught us. So even
though Sokka is angry at me, I think it was the correct thing to have done.” His posture lost a
little tension, although he was still squatting rather than sitting, ready to bolt if he needed to.
“I wish he hadn’t found out, though.” He admitted after a bit of further thought.

Well, that was honest, not necessarily ideal, but honest. It made Hakoda relax a bit. He was a
good kid, just a bit odd and very highly strung. Although he had told Sokka a lie by omission,
it was clear that he was not in the habit of being openly deceptive. He could certainly have
tried to twist the truth to make himself look better, or to convince Sokka he was correct.
Instead, he was accepting that he had been deceitful, just not that he had been wrong about it.

Zuli chewed his lower lip for a moment. “Having said that,” he began a little awkwardly,
looking at Hakoda through his lashes. “I also understand why what I did hurt him. Sokka said
I took his choice away, and I did. He also said my motives were not good, and that’s true, too.
I’m still not sorry, not for doing it. But I am sorry for hurting him. It’s the last thing I want to
do.” He looked down at his hands where they rested on his bag. “He’s all I have.”

There was so much misery and emotion in his eyes and voice it made Hakoda’s heart hurt a
little. It was hard enough going through the throes of teenage angst without the horrible
experiences the boys had undergone. Hakoda felt for the kid. He was flailing his way through
his own emotions and fear, and it was clear he was struggling. “Not all, Li. You have Captain
Shen, you have friends in the 54th, you have Panuk, who speaks highly of you.” Of his
tenacity and amusing bluntness, mostly. “And you have me. Far from kicking you out, I want
you to stay. I don’t believe you meant any harm by what you did, and I don’t believe you are
being dishonest about it now.”

“Oh,” Zuli said. He looked completely flummoxed.

Hakoda wished Shen was the one having this conversation. The kid trusted him, as much as
he seemed to trust anyone, and Shen appeared to understand him on some level, far better
than Hakoda did.

Slowly, the kid shifted until he was sitting with his legs crossed, no longer looking moments
from running. Hakoda let himself ease his posture slightly too and tried a reassuring smile. It
was a good thing Sokka had sent him. He wasn’t sure he wanted to think about the fallout if
the boy had just disappeared. And if he had, they would never know if he had been
recaptured. The thought made him shiver.

“Chief Hakoda?”

“Yes?”

Zuli was back to staring at his hands, still chewing his lip. “You’re wrong about what’s
upsetting Sokka,” he said.

Hakoda raised an eyebrow. He didn’t think Zuli was talking about his relationship with Sokka
any more, he was speaking about Hakoda’s. “Oh? I feel like he has made it clear why he’s
upset. Do you feel different?” he asked, as non committal as he could be.

“Yeah, but you’re reading it wrong. That’s why you can’t fix it.” Which was a little much
coming for Zuli, who did not seem to be particularly good at reading a room. Although he
was unerringly skilled in spotting signs of anger or aggression in someone’s face or posture.
Hakoda and Shen had discussed it, and Shen had suggested one of the reasons Hakoda’s
relationship with Zuli had been strained was the kid's ability to see past his smiles to his
uncertainty and mistrust. It was a strange contradiction about him; that he was unable to
interpret simple, obvious emotions, but he was able to read intention and threat very easily.
Hakoda suspected it was a consequence of a childhood of violence, although he had no real
evidence of that. Shen had agreed, his eyes thoughtful and shadowed. Hakoda had wondered
if he had learned, or at least suspected, something further about Zuli’s story. He hadn’t asked
what it was, he didn’t really want to know. He found a certain level of plausible deniability
was preferable to whatever mess Shen seemed to be grappling with.

“I’m reading it wrong, how?” he asked gently.

Zuli flicked his yellow gaze up again, and this time held Hakoda’s eyes. “I’m not breaking
his confidence. We’ve not discussed it. This is just what I think,” he said, scowling a little,
clearly in some level of internal debate with himself.
“I would be curious to hear it,” Hakoda said encouragingly. He would; any insight would be
extremely helpful at this stage.

Zuli nodded. “You think he’s angry about your decision. But it was the right choice. It was
the only choice. He knows that, I know that, everyone does, except you. It was the right
decision for a leader to make.”

“But not for a father,” Hakoda said. His stomach was sick and clenching just remembering
that awful, awful time when his choice had consumed his every waking moment and seeped
into his dreams like a poison.

Zuli lowered his eyes. “I wouldn’t know about that. My father would always have chosen
duty over family.”

Hakoda said nothing. The little hairs on the back of his neck lifted slightly at the evidence
Zuli knew his Fire Nation father. He had suspected it, but confirmation was unsettling. Had
the boy been raised by him? Or had he hunted him down later? Either for revenge, or an
effort to find his family and people after losing his mother? Impossible to tell, and he didn’t
think asking would be a good idea.

Zuli’s hands clenched in his lap, and he looked away again. “It’s not anger that’s causing his
distress.” He shook his head, face screwing up in irritation. “No, that’s wrong, he is angry,
and he is angry at you, but mostly it’s not really you he’s angry at, you’re just there.” He
made an annoyed noise at his own sentence. “Do you understand?”

Hakoda thought he did. He was angry at his choice, but also just angry, and Hakoda was the
safest target for that rage to come out. “If it’s not that, what is it?”

“Something I’m very familiar with,” Zuli muttered. “Shame. What he’s feeling is shame.”

Hakoda blinked. “He’s got nothing to be ashamed of. He’s done nothing wrong.”

“Doesn’t matter. He got caught. He got hurt. He failed to protect the people that died. He
failed to protect me. They made it so we were responsible for each other’s pain,” Zuli said
with a cold matter-of-factness that was…upsetting. “Don’t get me wrong, Sokka did
everything he could, everything. He has no reason to feel shamed. But that doesn’t mean
that’s not what he feels. What they did, the way they did it... It strips you bare, takes away...”
He looked around the tent, eyes a little frantic, and obviously very uncomfortable with the
conversation. It was a testament to how much he cared that he was opening up this much and
skirting this close to his own trauma. “It takes away bits of you. It’s not just feeling like a
failure, it’s much worse. And it hurts. The hurt makes you angry, it makes you helpless, and
that makes you more angry. It makes you afraid and that makes you angry too.” He looked up
at Hakoda again, yellow eyes shadowed with his own turbulent emotions. “And under the
anger is always the shame.”

It made sense, aligned with what Shen had said about Sokka blaming himself for what had
happened to his friend. That feeling obviously went both ways with them. Hakoda had
another moment of disbelief thinking about the adult men who had done these things and
played these mind games with a pair of teenagers, no matter what Zuli had allegedly done to
the Fire Lord’s son.

Shen had described Zuli’s cathartic meltdown briefly, and he seemed to understand some of
the boys’ distress and could relate to it. But Hakoda could too, he was an old hand at loss, at
anger and at shame. His wife had been killed in their own home. He had known where the
blame lay, but it had not stopped the feeling festering, the self recrimination and the doubt,
until the only thing he could do was take action. Action that, for good or ill, had led them
here. With all that in mind, he was surprised he hadn’t seen his own responses reflected in
Sokka. Perhaps he was just too emotionally caught up in having him back, in everything that
had happened to him. Perhaps he had been too desperate to fix his relationship with Sokka
and had not fully taken time to look beyond his own self blame. He would need to rectify
that.

“Thank you, Li,” he said gently. “You care about my son a great deal, don’t you?”

Zuli nodded. “He didn’t fail to protect me, I failed to protect him. I… I tried. I couldn’t stand
them hurting him in front of me. But then we both got hurt.” He shrugged awkwardly. “He
had no reason to care for me, but he did and I...” For a moment Hakoda thought he was going
to burst into tears, he looked like a miserable, hurting child, with his eyes shining and his jaw
wobbling a little with the intensity of his feelings. But instead of crying, he tossed his head
and straightened his back, sitting up like one of the Earth Kingdom soldiers did when their
commander came into view. “He is very important to me, and I want to protect him. And I
think that maybe the best way I can do that is to leave,” he finished decisively.

One step forward and two back. Hakoda held in yet another sigh. “I can’t stop you, Li. But I
meant what I said. If you decide to go, if you leave without saying goodbye, and you don’t
give Sokka the choice? You will hurt him deeply. It’s up to you what you choose to do, but if
you care about him, you will speak to him. It’s normal to fight with your friends sometimes.”

“I’m not very familiar with the friends thing,” Zuli muttered, doing the angry pout that he
didn’t seem to realise made him look like a truculent five-year-old.

“It’s a bit of a learning curve,” Hakoda told him amicably. “For both of you, perhaps. Sokka
should have used his words and not his fists.”

“I prefer the fists.”

Well, that was horrible. “Sokka doesn’t. He much prefers to use his words. He didn’t like the
loss of temper. I’m sure you understand that.”

Surprisingly, Zuli snorted, a little good humour returning to his face. “That is a concept I am
familiar with.”

“I think he would like the chance to apologise to you, as well as the opportunity to hear your
side of things. Your reasons.”

“Hmm.” Zuli plucked at a loose thread on his sleeve, glaring thoughtfully.

“Even if you’re not sorry for what you did, you might want to tell him you are sorry for
hurting him.”

“I’ll speak to him tomorrow,” he said at last. “Before I go. I will speak to the other people
you mentioned too.”

Shen he meant, clearly. Hopefully his talk with Sokka would prevent him leaving and it
would be a non-issue. “You promise you will talk to him before you go?”

He nodded and gave a curt bow from his seated position. “I swear it will be so.”

Very formal, a little too formal for Hakoda’s taste. But at least it would hold him, probably.
“Will you be okay for this evening?”

“Yes. I’m fine.”

He didn’t look fine, he looked utterly wrung out. But that was probably to be expected. “I
appreciate you speaking to me and being so candid. I think your insight will help me help
Sokka a bit.” He hoped so, anyway.

Hakoda stepped free of the tent and sucked in a breath of cool evening air. It had been close
and cloying during the conversation. The emotions flying around had felt thick, like one of
Panuk’s syrupy tonics and just as foul tasting.

He would have to speak to Sokka again, tell him what had happened, and then speak to Shen
and warn him of the fact Zuli seemed to have one foot out the door. Although it might be in
everyone else’s best interest if the kid disappeared, taking his Fire Nation pursuers with him,
it would not be in Sokka’s, or he suspected, Zuli’s, and they were the important ones right
now.

“Hakoda,” Shen called.

Hakoda turned to him, blinking in surprise. He was in full armour and mounted on his mean
looking ostrich horse. Hakoda’s body tensed. He didn’t know what this meant, but the man’s
tanned face was pale and tight with anger.

“Captain, is everything alright?”

Shen swung down off his bird and strode the few steps between them. He shook his head.
“Are you aware of what’s happened?”

“I was speaking to Zuli,” Hakoda said noncommittally. He didn’t think Shen was talking
about the fight.

Shen took a short, angry breath. His hazel eyes were hard. “The admiral’s men attacked the
village we visited. They have demanded an exchange of hostages. Women and children from
the village in exchange for the ‘scarred boy’.”
Hakoda’s heart sank. This sounded bad. Very, very bad. The barely banked fury on Shen’s
face didn’t lend him any confidence either. “They didn’t give you a name?” he asked, curious
despite the situation.

“No. I wondered about that too,” Shen said, face softening a bit. “It might be that they
suspected he would use a false one.”

That was true, but it seemed strange to Hakoda that they wouldn’t provide it just to mess with
the boy, prove to Huang that Zuli was lying to them. Perhaps they were still trying to hide his
identity, to stop anyone discovering he was still alive. But the real question couldn’t be put
off any longer. “Are they going to give him up?” Hakoda didn’t want to believe that they
would. He was almost surprised by the rush of protective feelings. Zuli still bothered him on
some level, but he was just a hurt kid, and Hakoda would withdraw his support with added
interest if Huang even thought about handing the boy back over to the people who had
tortured him. Ba Sing Se be damned.

Shen’s lip curled in a snarl, his eyes fierce. “No, or at least not like this. Not everyone agreed
with me, of course, but Huang has at least enough morality not to do that. At least not so
obviously, he has a healthy dose of self preservation too. Handing over a kid seeking
sanctuary with us, even if he is of mixed heritage, especially one who struck us such a
significant blow against Ozai? That would raise too many eyebrows.”

The rumours they had spread were good for something, at least.

Shen blew out a breath. “But they are still planning to use him as bait to draw out the
admiral. They just want it to be on their terms, not his.”

Hakoda could feel the noose closing. They were not going to have any time. He had to think
through their options quickly. “That way they get what they want but it looks good, assuming
they can protect him.”

Shen snorted angrily. “Yeah, assuming that. And disregarding the emotional damage it will
do. But really, who cares about a half-breed?” He all but spat the word. Clearly his discussion
with the general had gone poorly. “That way, they get what they want, but they think they
will be able to protect him, or more importantly, they will give the appearance of it.”

“He won’t do it willingly,” Hakoda said. “The kid is terrified of them, unsurprisingly after
what they did to him. Huang will have to threaten or force him.”

Shen nodded. “They wanted me to persuade him. But, I think perhaps my feelings got the
better of me, and I suspect they now think I’m compromised. They’re going to do it some
other way.”

Hakoda felt a chill race up his spine. He could think of something that might force the kid to
do what they wanted, considering what he had already sacrificed to try and keep Sokka safe.
And that would be over Hakoda’s dead body. “How long do we have?”

“A few days, probably. They’re going to play out this situation and see what happens before
they commit to anything.”
“Play it out how?” Hakoda asked. He was increasingly sure he was not going to like the
answer, “What’s your role in this?”

Shen grimaced. “The 54th is heading back to the village to try and free the hostages.”

Hakoda stared at him. “Shen, it’s a trap. You must see that,” he said, with a little disbelief.

Shen made an angry noise, rolling his shoulders under his armour. “Yeah, I know. But
Huang’s orders are his orders.” He glanced back towards the general’s tent. He looked
furious. The risk to his men was huge. Some, if not all of them would die during this action.
It was crazy.

Hakoda knew Shen didn’t have a choice, but he still felt the urge to argue. “They have all the
advantages. The admiral will know what our response will be. He must guess we won’t hand
Li over.” That was only half Hakoda’s fear. They would want Sokka back too, but he couldn’t
tell the Earth Kingdom soldiers that without revealing his real connection to the Avatar. He
suddenly felt the very urgent need to take both the boys on his ship and get the fuck away
from this situation.

Shen sighed, perhaps misreading whatever panicked expression was probably all over
Hakoda’s face. “I know. But where my general sends me, I have to go. I wish I could say
being forewarned is forearmed, but I don’t feel it. I don’t have a good feeling about this at
all.”

Was Huang hoping to get rid of the admiral’s men and free the hostages, or was he using the
opportunity to remove the voice of dissent in his ranks? Hakoda wished he didn’t have to
consider things like that about his own allies, but he did. Would he be treated in a similar
manner? It would certainly go easier for Huang if Rakuq was leading the Tribes instead.

Shen looked at Hakoda, intense and earnest. “If I don’t make it back, I want you to get Zuli
out. Stash him on your boats, smuggle him out the camp, I don’t care. Get him out.”

Hakoda nodded. Furious and hurting. This was war, you lost friends and you received orders
you disagreed with. But this seemed particularly unfair, and he didn’t have to like it. “I will
do whatever is in my power to keep the boy safe, Shen, I swear it.” He held out an arm and
Shen grasped it, Water Tribe style. “But come back, if you can.”

Shen gave him one of his lopsided smiles, half his mouth tilting up. “I’ll do my best.”

“Shen?” Zuli had emerged from the tent behind the captain. His voice held none of the
misery it had a few minutes before, instead it was hard and sharp. His eyes were running over
Shen’s uniform, his ostrich horse in full armour, flicking to the side where the men were
gathering. “What’s happening? Are you leaving?” he asked, almost like an accusation.

Shen closed his eyes briefly, mouth pinching, before he schooled his features and turned to
face the boy.

“We have orders to move out. The Fire Nation attacked the village we went to this morning.
We need to do reconnaissance and hopefully rescue any prisoners they may have taken.”
It sounded a lot less like a death sentence, the way he said it now, but Zuli didn’t seem
fooled. His pale skin lost whatever colour it had, and his shoulders hunched. “They will be
waiting for you.”

Shen acknowledged that truth with a small nod. “And we will be ready for them.” He
sounded confident and at ease, not at all like he had been just seconds ago with Hakoda.
“Listen, Zuli-”

“No, you listen,” the kid cut in, stepping forward aggressively, his eyes narrow.

Hakoda’s eyebrows shot up. It wasn’t just that the boy had no manners; it was that he would
even consider speaking to a captain in such a way. Shen at least, seemed to find it amusing,
endearing even. “He’s not stupid,” Zuli continued. “None of them are. Not Zhao, not Ro,
even that mealworm Chen is smart, in his way.”

“I don’t have a choice.”

“Everyone has a choice!” Zuli snapped, his obvious worry making his strange accent even
stronger.

“I’m in the army, Zuli. My general makes my choices. I do what I’m told.”

“That’s stupid!”

“That’s reality.” Shen smiled a little. Zuli did not return it. “Listen,” He put a big hand on the
boy’s shoulder as he looked down at him. “I have no idea what your fight with Sokka was
about, but make it up with him. Life is too damn short to lose your friends before it’s time.
And listen to Hakoda. Do what he says. Do you understand me?”

Zuli looked mulish and like he might start yelling or kicking at any second.

“Do you understand me?” Shen gave him a little shake. “Promise me, Zuli, please.”

Zuli nodded, glaring sullenly. “I will listen to what Hakoda has to say to me,” he said
eventually. “But what I do remains my choice. I’m not in your army.”

“That’s all I can ask. Listen well, kiddo. I’ll be back, if I can.”

“Whatever.”

Shen cupped the kid’s unscarred cheek briefly before letting go. “Hakoda, stay safe. I’ll see
you in a day or so. Zuli, say bye to Sokka for me, and speak to him, okay? Tell him his
punches could use some work, he only blacked one of your eyes.”

“He also broke my nose.”

“Well, to be fair, you broke his first.”

Zuli gave him a long annoyed look, and Shen grinned back at him.
“Captain,” Haoyu said, riding up in full armour, the pads at his shoulder a darker green,
indicating him as a bender. Hakoda had never understood why the armed forces did that,
telegraphed their most powerful fighters. The Fire Nation did it too in many of their
divisions. If he had any waterbenders, Hakoda would dress them exactly the same as any
other man. Let the enemy guess who was going to freeze the breath in their throats.

“We’re ready to move out,” Haoyu said. Shen nodded and swung on to his ostrich horse.
“Take care, both of you.” He said. He didn’t look back.

Haoyu lingered for a second. “Li, stay safe, okay?” he said. “Tell Sokka too.”

Zuli said nothing, just watched him, his mouth drawn down unhappily and his hands
clenched at his sides.

“Stay safe, Haoyu,” Hakoda said, as Zuli seemed incapable of speech. “Good luck.”

They watched him ride back to his company. “It’s a trap,” Zuli said, as the 54th prepared to
leave.

“I know. Nothing we can do,” Hakoda murmured regretfully, his heart heavy and his mind
racing. He was either going to have to get Zuli out of the camp or get both the boys onto his
boat. An option that would put him at odds with Huang and put the mission in jeopardy.

Beside him, Zuli’s body was practically vibrating with tension. “I need to leave. This is my
fault,” he said.

“It’s not your fault,” Hakoda said, a little harshly. “It’s their fault, the admiral and his men.
Not yours. And it is ourresponsibility to protect you, both of you, mine, Shen’s, Huang’s.
And I for one, take that very seriously.” He turned to face him, expression stern. Hakoda was
certain that being straightforward and honest with the boy was going to get the best results.
That, and giving him a choice—the same way he had discovered the best way to get his six-
year-old daughter dressed in the morning was to offer her options so she felt in control, even
though he had carefully curated the possibilities. Just so she didn’t end up wearing her
brother’s pants as a hat again. “So please, do as I ask. Get some sleep and tomorrow we will
go together and speak to Sokka. Then we will decide, the three of us, on the best option. It
might be better we leave the Earth Kingdom camp and return to the boats. Or it might be best
you head elsewhere—but leaving now with no plan and no direction will get you caught, you
understand? They want you to try exactly that.”

Zuli chewed his lip, his eyes distant as he thought about it. “I will do as you suggest,” he said
eventually. He didn’t even sound sullen about it. Perhaps because it was a plan he agreed
with, perhaps he was just so afraid of the admiral’s men that he was willing to allow someone
to take charge, to try to protect him. Or more worryingly, perhaps it was something else
beyond Hakoda’s power to guess. For a kid whose face was pretty much an open book, his
thought process was both baffling and completely alien to Hakoda.

“Good. Try to get some sleep. And don’t worry too much about Captain Shen. He’s a veteran
soldier, he’s been on harder missions, I’m sure.”
“I don’t have good luck,” Zuli said, his voice heavy. “The people I… the people around me
don’t either.”

Hakoda hesitated, but then risked putting an arm around his shoulders, he kept the movement
slow, making sure he had time to shake it off or avoid it. But to his surprise, Zuli allowed the
contact and even leaned into it for a moment. He looked so tired, like he just couldn’t take
any more hurt.

“Bad luck isn’t catching, although it might feel like it,” Hakoda told him gently. “We have all
grown up in conflict, Li. Losing people before it’s their time is part of that. Stopping the war,
winning the war, that is the only way to prevent this cycle of loss continuing, and that is what
we will fight to achieve.”

“The Fire Nation will win,” Zuli said with a disturbing level of certainty. “The Fire Lord does
not suffer failure.” He shuddered, slight body shaking against Hakoda’s side.

“Even the Fire Lord has tasted defeat, he lost his son after all,” Hakoda reminded him. Zuli’s
shoulders tensed under his arm, and Hakoda squeezed him a little tighter. “I know things look
bleak, but the Fire Lord was not counting on the Avatar. The battles we fight might be lost,
but it may be that the war is won in a different way.”

“And what happens then?” Zuli looked up at him with his golden eyes and Hakoda realised
that the Fire Nation’s defeat would offer him no safety, nor any of the people like him. Some
were integrated into the Earth Kingdom, like Yuxuan, but even he got sneered at by members
of the other companies in the camp. After the war, if there was an after, would see more pain
for these people. There was going to be a lot of work to be done. And Hakoda wasn’t sure
who was going to be willing to do it. The hatred ran so deep. Shen’s bitterness came back to
him too, what did people care about ‘half-breeds’? Not much, they didn’t trust people of
mixed heritage, and didn’t want to be reminded of how they came to be.

As if following his thoughts, Zuli finally shook him off and stepped away; visibly pulling
himself together, straightening his back and lifting his chin, a familiar scowl falling over his
features. “Don’t put your faith in the Avatar. He’s half trained. A lot can happen between now
and when he’s ready to fight m…. the Fire Lord.”

“You’re right. We must continue like that small sliver of hope doesn’t exist,” Hakoda said, a
little reluctantly. He wished he could paint a more positive picture for him, but the kid
wouldn’t appreciate it.

“Hope,” Zuli said, staring through him like Hakoda had fallen away and disappeared. “I don’t
think there is any left for me. Where can I go? What can I do?”

“You can live, Li. That’s what you can do. Stay with Sokka, and keep the pair of you alive.”

“I want to go home.” Poor kid sounded so miserable, Hakoda suspected ‘home’ didn’t exist
anymore, that it was an impossible fantasy of the past.

“Sometimes, when things like home and family are taken from us, it feels like we will never
find peace again. But it is possible. It is possible to build a home, to make a family, to share
with friends. Hope is not lost while you still have breath, Li. And you don’t seem like
someone who gives up without a fight.”

The boy’s mouth ticked up a little. “I have been told that it is not in my nature to give up
easily. And I don’t intend to. You are correct, where there is life, there is hope. And I will
achieve the things that I must.” He sounded like he was giving himself a stern talking to
rather than continuing their conversation. Even so, a little shiver ran up Hakoda’s spine with
the sheer intensity of it.

“Number one, get some sleep,” Hakoda told him, taking a chance and ruffling his short hair.
He got a fierce glare in response, but no violence. “Number two, we will deal with tomorrow
—a plan of action, yes?”

“Yeah.”

Hakoda thought he had done enough to keep him from sneaking off in the night. Spirits, he
hoped he had.

Sokka was asleep, curled in a sad-looking ball, clutching his pillow like the stuffed polar dog
he used to cuddle as a small child. Hakoda watched him for a while, full of sadness and
longing for a time when things were better. Eventually, he forced himself to leave and head
back to his own tent. Bato raised an eyebrow at him and offered him some lukewarm tea. He
had really taken to some of the Earth Kingdom blends. Hakoda was less keen, but he enjoyed
Bato’s enthusiasm.

“Thanks.”

“You look like a man in need of unburdening yourself,” he said.

Hakoda grimaced and launched into a brief account of the evening’s events.

Tomorrow he would tell Sokka about Zuli and Shen and together they would decide the best
way forward. They didn’t have time for doubt, or for the boys to work through their
argument. But Hakoda suspected that with the current danger looming, they would move past
it quickly out of necessity.

He fell asleep listing to Bato telling him about the inventory lists and more requests for
fucking fish.

Hakoda woke to screaming.

It seemed tomorrow had come sooner than he liked, and the first light of dawn had brought
with it fire and battle.
Chapter End Notes

Next chapter: Chaos! Murder! Mayhem!

 Chapter 11
Chapter Summary

“Shit,” he said, with feeling. “Shit, shit, shit.”

Chapter Notes

Happy New year folks! I hope 2022 brings everyone some good things! One day I will
answer comments quickly and shock you all. (I love and adore every one of them!)

Warnings: Death, fighting, blood, bit of murder, serious injury (not too graphic) Zuko’s
bedside manner (still needs its own warning,) discussion about past non-con (not
explicit)

Many thanks to my beta burkesl17, who has managed to wrangle my dyslexic nonsense.
All mistakes are my own.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Hakoda woke to fire and screaming. There was the flash of Bato’s horrified face before an
expression of extreme concentration slammed down and he rolled to his feet. Hakoda was
only moments behind, struggling out of their sleeping furs and grabbing for weapons. There
was no time for armour, no time for boots, he just snatched up his spear and long curved
knife and lunged for the tent flap.

The camp was in chaos. A horrifying haze of smoke hung over the tents and the clash of steel
on steel echoed from all directions. Red armoured soldiers were fighting confused, desperate
Earth Kingdom soldiers still wearing the clothes they had slept in.

How had they got past the sentries? How had they managed to get inside the camp?
Questions for later, and Hakoda would be asking them, if he was alive to do so.

The sounds of battle were familiar, the cries and screams of men, the clash of weapons, but
the whole camp seemed full of the acrid smoke making it hard to see clearly, although
Hakoda could discern flashes of colour and struggling men as they moved between the fires.
There was a scent to it, not wood-smoke and not that particular smell that accompanied
firebending. It was herbal, almost medicinal. Concerning, but aside from making his eyes
water and his chest a little tight, it didn’t seem to have any adverse effects.

A Fire Nation soldier rose out of the haze and Hakoda ducked to the side to engage him. He
had already lost sight of Bato, but he had to focus on surviving the moment. The rushing
calmness that took over during battle was escaping him. In its place was just the thought of
Sokka, Sokka, Sokka. He had to get to his son. Hakoda parried a strike with the edge of his
spear, then spun the shaft and knocked the soldier’s sword away from him, the sound a
vicious scrape of metal on bone. Ducking under the following swing, he stabbed forward
with his dagger. He hit soft flesh, and the man fell. Hakoda moved forward. The feeling of
fighting was so familiar, his reactions happened almost without thought. Muscle and sinew,
blade and bone.

As he fought, there was the sense something was wrong, something screaming at the edge of
his consciousness. It was only when he raised his arm to shield against a fire blast that didn’t
come, that he realised what was missing—there were none of the rumbles and vibrations that
usually accompanied earthbending. In fact, although there was smoke, the only visible fires
were those that had been burning in camp from last night. Where were the benders?

Hakoda didn’t think the answer would be one that he would like, but he didn’t have time to
dwell on it. He had to get to Sokka. His son had spent the night in Panuk’s tent, so he would
start there.

The landscape of the camp seemed different, shrouded in smoke and screams. Everything felt
eerie and alien. The haze prevented him seeing further than a few paces ahead, and his eyes
were streaming. He wished he had moved everyone back to his ship. Even with them moored
in the river, he was more secure on board. He felt off-centre fighting alongside the Earth
troops, and he felt alone. Almost all of his men were on the boats or camped closer to the
river. Huang had kept Panuk’s tent even further away, nearer to the centre, for his people’s
use should they need the healer. Hakoda swallowed down anger at the man, there was no
point getting worked up about things he could do nothing about. Later, if there was a later,
then he would air his grievances and make some changes, whether the general liked it or not.

He headed east, at least he hoped it was east, attempting to avoid confrontation unless he was
directly engaged. Keeping his son safe was far more important. He spared a thought for Zuli
though, the poor kid was camped where the 54th had been, surrounded by empty tents. There
was no one to help him there. Even if he made it through to another company, it wasn’t a sure
thing they would protect him. Spirits, it wasn’t a sure thing one of the Earth Kingdom
soldiers wouldn’t just stick a sword through him by accident. Hakoda’s heart clenched with
guilt. He should have insisted the boy move his tent closer. He wished he knew how much of
Zuli’s apparent knowledge of his blades was bravado and how much was skill. The kid was
going to be targeted by the enemy soldiers and being able to fight against practised opponents
was going to be life or death for him. At this stage, Hakoda suspected killing him was going
to be the best option for the admiral, every day he remained free was a day closer the man
himself got to the hangman’s noose.

But as worried as he was, Hakoda’s priority had to be Sokka. Who, as far as he knew, was
only armed with the jain blade Zuli had chosen for him. He had refused a replacement
boomerang, something that had torn at Hakoda. His kid had loved that boomerang, he was so
proud of using something that was theirs, of their tribe, of their people. Hakoda had assumed
that his refusal had been a representation of how Sokka felt about him, his betrayal, his anger.
But now, after the conversation with Zuli, he thought it was actually about hatred of himself,
feelings of shame, and that perhaps he didn’t think he deserved to use such a weapon. Spirits,
Hakoda wished he had thought this through earlier, wished he had thought to speak to Zuli
sooner, he clearly had a unique perspective on Sokka’s current state of mind. Apart from his
son’s mental well-being, not dealing with this had left Sokka armed only with a sword that he
had been training with for less than a month. He wasn’t supposed to be in a position where he
would have to rely on it. They were supposed to be safe.

By all the spirits above and below, he hoped that he would have a chance to speak to him, to
offer him some solace, to ease some of his fear and pain.

First, he had to get to him. Hakoda pushed on, trying to orientate himself in the smoke. Tears
were running down his cheeks as he neared one of the fires. The smell of it was intense and
caught in his throat, tightening his lungs like he was being squeezed.

Two combatants appeared out of the haze in front of him. One of Yao’s earthbenders, Xueqin,
and a Fire Nation Soldier. Xueqin’s face was screwed up in concentration and fear, his bare
toes digging into the trampled ground. He was motioning with his arms, but nothing was
happening. Hakoda couldn’t see the other soldier’s face, but he cut Xueqin down with an
almost casual sweep of his sword and was gone, back into the smoke before the poor man
even hit the ground.

It had to be something in the smoke stopping the bending. Hakoda had never heard of such a
thing. It was going to throw the Earth Kingdom army into disarray, they relied heavily on
their benders. The Southern Water Tribe did not, due to the Fire Nation’s relentless campaign
to get rid of them. This had resulted in a fighting force that didn’t depend on bending, and in
this fight, at least, that gave them the advantage. Of course, it seemed the admiral hadn’t sent
his benders in either, only normal infantry. So where were they?

A small figure darted past, wide-bladed dao in each hand. Zuli had wrapped cloth around his
face and head, it both served to cover his mouth and nose, limiting the amount of smoke he
was inhaling, and made it hard to recognise him in the gloom. He was wearing his
nondescript sleep clothes, same as all the other men in the camp. If it wasn’t for his size and
his choice of weapon, Hakoda probably would have missed him.

He was also heading for Panuk’s tent by the look of it, so Hakoda followed as swiftly as he
could, keeping the slight figure in his sight as much as possible and not stopping when men
called out to him. He couldn’t, reaching Sokka, protecting Zuli, those were his priorities.

“There!” a man shouted, gesturing with his spear at Zuli as he ran. Three soldiers moved to
engage and Hakoda stepped in to block the first of them.

Zuli’s swords spun, gleaming dully in the haze. He was good. He was very good. Hakoda was
no swordsman, he used a machete, but it was primarily for things other than fighting.
Although he was passable using it as a weapon, he was more skilled with the spear, and was
considered to be one of the most accomplished warriors of the coastal tribes. So, watching
Zuli use his swords, Hakoda didn’t know the moves, but he could recognise the skill. The
precision and the focus it took to use the two blades independently, and yet have them behave
as one. He was also extremely nimble, leaping and rolling and using more than just the sharp
edge of his dao.

Ahead of them, a soldier had reached the healer’s tent and had Panuk by his unburnt arm,
trying to wrestle a knife away from him. Zuli leapt the fire like it was nothing, delivering a
roundhouse kick to the soldier barely seconds after touching down, then he spun again, using
a bare heel to kick burning embers into the man’s face. The soldier covered his eyes, an
instinctive reaction, leaving a single moment for Panuk to twist free and turn the knife on
him; he struck in the weak spot, under the man’s arm and he staggered back. Zuli finished
him off with an unflinching blow from his right blade, simultaneously swinging the left to
fend off another soldier who had followed him over the fire. This man's sword was a long
straight blade like Sokka’s and Zuli turned it away from himself with a clang of steel,
ducking low and using the right sword to sweep at the man’s legs. He fought with an
economy of movement that looked natural and focused. He had not shown this during his
lessons with Sokka, where he had been slow and careful for the most part.

Hakoda was forced to concentrate on his own opponent for a moment, using his spear the
way his father had shown him, the motions like an extension of his arm. He could almost
smell the winter breeze as he flowed through the movements, the battle calm almost, but not
quite, falling over him. If Sokka had been in the tent, he would have come to help Panuk. He
wasn’t there. Hakoda’s calm wavered and broke, and he narrowly avoided being struck down
with the next slice of the soldier’s sword. He jabbed at the man’s face with his spear, striking
metal. The impact knocked his faceplate askew, and he was forced to cast it aside to see.
Hakoda didn’t waste a second, he darted forward, keeping the sword away from him with the
spear, and lashed out with the bone-handled knife, it sank home in the soldier's unprotected
neck and the blood splashed onto Hakoda’s face, warm and wet.

“Arms Master Fu!” Zuli was shouting and waving. Hakoda caught his breath for a moment,
blinking through the smoke. He ran his eyes over them both as best he could in the gloom.
Panuk seemed shaken, afraid, but still determined and otherwise unharmed. Zuli’s bare feet
were blood splattered from running over the battlefield, but as far as Hakoda could tell, they
were unburned from kicking at the fire. He was not sure exactly what to make of that.

Arms Master Fu seemed bemused at being hailed, but he was making his way toward them
swiftly, unhindered by the battle. His large arms and chest were splattered with gore, and he
was dressed only in his sleep pants. In his hands he held a spear and a sword. His expression
was impressed, until he got close enough to see who it was whose fighting he had been about
to compliment. “Li?” he asked, voice suddenly tense.

“Protect healer Panuk,” Zuli demanded. His blades were bloody and he wiped them on the
loose cloth of his pants.

“Don’t you use that tone with me, boy,” Fu started.

“Tone? You’re arguing about my tone?” Zuli snarled at him. He stepped forward, every inch
of him radiating threat. “Will you argue as your friends bleed out with no healer to stitch
them up? As they rot from the inside without his herbs to draw out the infections?”
Fu looked enraged and opened his mouth, no doubt to bellow at the boy.

“Damn it, man, just do what I tell you!” Zuli snapped. This time, rather than anger, there was
a note of command in his voice. Fu’s mouth snapped shut. He looked shocked into
momentary silence. Zuli gave him another stern glare, patted Panuk on the arm, and then he
was running. He was heading out of the camp, towards the river.

He must know where Sokka was. If Sokka had slept poorly, or woken with the sun out of
habit, then perhaps he had headed down to one of their usual spots to practice with the sword.
He might have missed the attack entirely.

Hakoda lost sight of Zuli almost immediately in the thick undergrowth. He knew the kid was
heading for the river, probably starting from the northern end judging from the direction he
had gone in. He paused for a moment to consider his options—catch up with Zuli or work his
way down the accessible bank from the opposite side? At least that way, one of them might
find Sokka.

He turned and began running south, the blood that had splashed on his bare feet was washed
clean by the dew in the grass. The thought of it twisted in his gut, it was just wrong he was
running away from the fight, but he would not let his son down again. He just couldn’t.

He knew this area slightly, having scouted it yesterday in an effort to burn off some of his
anxiety about the boys and Shen and Huang’s plans. If he headed to the high ground, he
could look down on the river and hopefully see more of the bank. It wouldn’t be hard to make
his way down if he spotted Sokka.

He was almost there, just moving through the thick scrub towards the lip of an outcrop, when
he heard the clash of blades below. The sound sent a shiver up his spine and he sped up, it
could be anyone, but he was convinced it was Sokka at the river as he had predicted.

Suddenly he felt a shocking impact to his leg, and he fell forward into the tangled under-
bush. He lay stunned for a moment, his spear still somehow clutched in one hand while he
sprawled in the damp foliage. There was a feeling of intense pressure on his lower right calf
and it took a long moment for him to process what had happened and why he was on the
floor. He pushed himself up, moving some of the loose grasses away to see what had trapped
him. It was some sort of metal contraption, its sharp teeth gripping his leg with the bite of a
tiger-shark. As soon as he saw it, the pain rushed in on him and he gasped, feeling suddenly
sick and a little dizzy.

“Sokka! Sokka!” Zuli’s voice rang out, still far away, but getting closer. Hakoda was only a
handful of paces away from the edge, but it may as well have been miles. He turned back to
the metal thing, his eyes wanted to skim past the way the trap was holding him, the way it cut
through the loose sleep pants and into his skin like it was nothing. Seeing it made the pain
spin though his head and his muscles tense, which only made it worse. But now he looked at
it, he thought it was much like a spring snare, not something his people used in recent years,
but when trade was healthier, he had seen them. He thought he might be able to prize open
the jaws with his spear or knife, he hoped so, but it would take time, and that was something
he didn’t feel like he had.
The clash of blades was still echoing below him. He had to get to the edge of the outcrop, he
had to see. With one hand, he took hold of the metal of the trap, as close as he could to where
it was holding him, and used his elbow and free leg to lift and propel himself backwards. The
pain was jarring, sending waves of agony through him, but he clenched his teeth and moved.
Each time he forced his body onwards it sent a surge of dizziness through him.

He was certain that it had taken minutes to reach the edge of the outcrop, but it seemed like it
was far shorter in reality. The scene below him nearly stopped his heart. Sokka was being
beaten back by a Fire Nation soldier. The river was behind them, rushing and bubbling,
uncaring of the scene playing out on her bank. There was no sign of Zuli, although from his
shouting, Hakoda had to assume he was heading towards the sound of the swords, much as
Hakoda had done. He could only hope he had better luck and actually made it in time to help.

The soldier was barefaced and bare-headed, his dark hair held back in a standard topknot. He
looked to be close to Shen in age and his expression was strangely blank as he fought. Both
of them were armed with a sword, although it was clear the soldier was far more skilled than
Sokka. Unlike Zuli, Sokka was at least dressed and wearing boots, but he had no armour, and
he was bleeding from a couple of thin scratches on his arms. Otherwise, he seemed unhurt.

As Hakoda watched with mounting horror, the man stepped forward and twisted his blade to
the side with an atrocious screech of steel on steel, the motion sending Sokka’s sword
spinning from his hand and leaving him unarmed and unprotected. He was breathing hard,
and although Hakoda couldn’t see his entire face from this position, he could read the fear in
his body.

“Sokka!” Zuli called again as he suddenly came into view, running flat out, swords in hand.
But he was too far away. He wouldn’t make it in time.

Hakoda was going to have to watch his son die.

He didn’t even have the voice to call out to him. The feeling of horror and unreality that sank
over him was even more visceral than the moment he had followed his crying daughter to
discover his wife’s body.

Zuli was only moments away, but it wasn’t enough time. And they all knew it.

The soldier smirked and tipped his head to watch the other boy as he ran. Hakoda’s breath
was lodged in his chest, it felt like he was being strangled. He didn’t think he had ever felt so
helpless.

“Sokka!” Zuli shouted, skidding in the wet grass. “Down!”

Despite the fact he was facing an armed opponent and was quite literally staring death in the
face, Sokka immediately dropped to his belly, his hands going over his head protectively.
Hakoda gaped at him for a second, but then a blast of flame shot over Sokka’s head, driving
the soldier back. Hakoda was too far away to feel the heat, but it felt like it had seared him
right to the bones anyway. A smaller second blast followed, and the soldier backed up.
Sokka didn’t waste any time and he dove after his sword, grabbing it in his reaching hands
and stumbling to his feet again. He wobbled for a second before centering himself. Hakoda
had a moment of pride at the way he was holding his body. He might be unpracticed in the
blade, but he had taken to it remarkably fast. Hakoda just had to desperately hope it would be
enough to keep him alive.

Zuli had fallen to his knees and was retching violently. Whatever had been in that smoke had
clearly affected him strongly. Had he inhaled less than Xueqin? Or had he just managed to
bend in spite of it? If so, that was…impressive.

Impressive and horrifying, because Zuli could firebend.

Hakoda would need to try to process that later, right now his thoughts were fixed on Sokka,
who was trying to manoeuvre himself so he was between the soldier and Zuli, who was still
kneeling in the dirt. The swordsman did not look threatened in the least, he knew the odds
were stacked in his favour with Zuli incapacitated. Hakoda thought he was allowing Sokka to
move between them because it meant he could keep the other boy in his line of sight.

One eye still on Sokka, the soldier tilted his head again, so he could look at Zuli as he
heaved, still bringing up nothing but bile.

“What’s wrong with him!” Sokka demanded.

The soldier didn’t answer, he just curled his lip in a sneer, his first real expression during the
whole fight. He clearly knew and recognised the boys, was certainly one of the men who had
held them on the admiral’s ship. It wasn’t the admiral himself, though, Hakoda knew what
ranked officers wore, this man was lower down the food chain.

The soldier’s mouth twisted into something closer to a smile and began to press forward,
manoeuvring Sokka to the side, closer and closer to the river. The water was fast and just on
the edge of violent here, the currents treacherous. If he trapped Sokka against the bank, the
fight was as good as over. The only reason he had not done so already was that he was being
careful to keep Zuli in view.

“You’ve had a good run, little rat,” the man said, his voice cold and dispassionate.

“Fuck you, Chen,” Sokka said.

Chen. Zuli had mentioned him yesterday, called him a mealworm. Sokka had spoken of him
too, said he had killed the men of the northern tribe who had been taken prisoner with him.

“You’re not my type,” Chen said. “Ask Ro, he doesn’t seem fussy. He’ll take anyone’s dirty
leavings.”

That was clearly bait, and Sokka took it, hook and line. “Bastard!” he snarled and charged
forward, attacking with a series of well-executed moves that Chen deflected with ease.

It broke Hakoda’s heart a little, Sokka would be so good at this if he ever got the chance to
practice. He had a talent for it. But despite that, Hakoda couldn’t help wish his son had never
had to raise a weapon against another person.

“Sokka!” Zuli called. He was struggling to rise, but hadn’t regained his feet yet. Even so, he
seemed to know as well as Hakoda did that Chen was goading Sokka into a position to take
him out.

Sokka was holding his own surprisingly well given the disparity in the skill level. He was
using what advantages he could, his size, his speed, his creativity. He dropped and struck low
with his blade, aiming for Chen’s legs and scoring his first strike. The man snarled, leaping
back and raising his sword defensively. He watched for a moment, before he attacked, his
sword striking fast as a snake and driving Sokka back with ease. It was very clear he had just
been playing with him before. Sokka was putting up the best fight that he could, but he was
being backed into the river bank, effectively trapping him and limiting his movement, taking
away the only small advantage he had.

One thing Chen had not taken into consideration was Sokka’s tendency towards clumsiness,
and instead of getting himself in position for a clean kill, he ended up losing his quarry
entirely. Hakoda wasn’t sure what Sokka had tripped on—he had a sneaking suspicion it was
his own feet, but he tumbled backwards with a cry, hitting the water with a splash, his blade
still clutched in one hand. The river was rough and fast moving, and he was gone in an
instant. Leaving both Hakoda and Chen staring at the spot he had been.

“Fuck,” Chen said, about summing it up.

“Sokka!” Zuli lurched to his feet, but Sokka was already under the water and out of sight.

Hakoda was full of fear again, but he knew his son was a strong swimmer, and his chances of
surviving the river were probably better than his chances against Chen. It had all happened so
fast. Hakoda wanted to call out to Zuli, but the risk of distracting him at a crucial moment
was just too great and instead he had to resign himself to watching with horror as the boy fell
back to his knees again, retching so hard he was almost shaking with the force of it. He still
had a white knuckled grip on his swords, though.

“Pathetic,” Chen said, moving forward cautiously.

Zuli lifted his head and spat into the trampled grass. He took a couple of deep breaths, then
forced himself up. He was visibly trembling, wobbling on his feet, but he tilted his blades,
ready to fight.

Chen sneered at him again. “The herbs did a number on you.”

“What is it?” Zuli asked, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his oversized sleep shirt.

Chen shrugged. “Don’t know. Something the admiral uncovered in some old library.
Something that’s going to make us rich.” He lifted one shoulder again, dismissive, like being
rich wasn’t really all that important. Or that having discovered something that could disrupt
bending wasn’t a complete and horrifying game changer.
Zuli moved forward, his steps slow and careful. “You think the Fire Lord will pay you for
this? It’s a danger to him as much as it is to the Earth Kingdom. Zhao is out of his depth if he
thinks he can use it to gain favour,” he said.

“Not my problem.” Even Chen’s tone was dull and unemotional.

“It might become one,” Zuli said with a smile that showed far too many teeth. “This is
dangerous. You think it’s only Zhao that the Fire Lord will execute to keep this under wraps?
Why would the bastard use it so openly? It’s madness.”

Hakoda was wondering about that too. If they had utilised this at Ba Sing Se, if it had come
as a surprise, it could have been devastating. It seemed like a very foolish mistake.

For the first time, Chen looked slightly concerned. “The admiral’s not here. It was Ro that
discovered we could use it as smoke, to get lots of people at once. Zhao gave him some for…
transporting prisoners.”

The boys he meant, clearly.

Zuli barked a laugh. “Well Ro better hope he kills the whole encampment, because the cat’s
out of the bag now and Zhao is going to be...upset. Which is only a fraction of how unhappy
the Fire Lord is going to be. His displeasure is not likely to be pleasant for any of you.”

“Well, you would know.” Chen seemed to be done with talking and he attacked. His blade
was long and slightly curved, the edge flashing in the morning light as it filtered through the
trees.

Zuli got his swords up to block the strike but it was clumsy, without the skill and grace he
had shown in his earlier fighting. The blades clashed and slid against each other. Although he
had deflected the assault, Zuli was clearly still unsteady on his feet, at the next strike he was
driven backwards, almost slipping in the damp grass and mud.

Chen paused to sneer at him again. His contempt was palpable. “Pathetic. I expected the Blue
Spirit to have more…spirit.”

Hakoda would unpack that one later too, along with the firebending. Or actually, nope, he
was going to have a small panic about it now. The Blue Spirit? Could he be? He seemed far
too young, but then, he also seemed to have gotten himself in trouble with a surprising
amount of high ranking Fire Nation officers, which would actually make a certain amount of
sense in this context. No wonder Sokka had found that whole thing with Haoyu so funny.
Fuck, his son had been cuddling a firebender every night. Oh spirits. Hakoda’s head was
spinning. Sokka had clearly known, he had anticipated what was going to happen when Zuli
ordered him down.

Chen was watching Zuli with that same expression of contempt. “They think I didn’t know
what was happening on the ship, but I did. I see things. You disgust me.”

“Feelings mutual,” Zuli growled at him. “You sick bastard.” The sound of the blades was
loud over the rushing of the river and the distant shouts of the fight still happening at the
camp. Zuli went down again, panting and shaking in the wet grass.

Chen made no move to finish him off, he just watched him as he struggled to rise. “I’m going
to kill you,” he said conversationally. “Ro would prefer you alive, he’s like a cat, likes to play
with his food.” He held his sword out, twisting it to catch the light. “I just like the eating
part.”

“I hope I get stuck in your throat,” Zuli snarled at him.

“I wonder if the water rat drowned? Or will I need to hunt him down, do you think? Ro wants
him too. Says he wasn’t half done with him. I don’t see the appeal, personally.”

“You won’t, I won’t let you!”

Chen shook his head. “I don’t understand your attachment. You got on your knees for that
brat, begged for his life. You debased yourself for a savage.” He sounded utterly disgusted.
“Zhao wants the boy alive. But both of you deserve to die for that shame.” He stepped
forward, while Zuli seemed to muster whatever was left of his strength, fingers curled tight
around his sword hilts as he knelt on the muddy ground. “Will you do it again?” Chen asked,
swinging his weapon in a low arc as he got closer. “If I spare him? Will you stay on your
knees and taste the steel of my blade?”

Zuli bared his teeth and began pushing himself up on shaking legs, using his swords to force
himself to his feet. “I will never get on my knees for you, I will never debase myself or beg
while I have breath in my body, you son of a hog monkey's whore!” He attacked with a flurry
of strikes, blades moving together gracefully, almost like a dance. He drove Chen back, away
from the river bank and towards the looming forest. Zuli’s determination and skill forced him
right to the edge, his back brushing the reaching branches of the trees as they stood watching
like grim sentries.

But it couldn’t last. It was clear that the energy from Zuli’s burst of rage was fading, and his
movements were slowing, becoming more clumsy. Even as Hakoda watched, heart in his
mouth, the boy stumbled, only just catching himself in time to fend off a downward stroke of
Chen’s sword.

Between the two of them, if the battlefield was truly even, then Hakoda would put his money
on Zuli. The way he had fought earlier had been the sort of intuitive, effortless fighting that
stood out, even in an encampment of soldiers. But the field wasn’t even. The kid had
essentially been poisoned, bending under the influence had made him seriously unwell and
dangerously weak.

Watching this was intolerable, and Hakoda turned away for a second to try to prise the trap
open, although it was futile in his panicked state, not doing anything was impossible, but
there was nothing he could do. He was quickly drawn back to the combatants when he heard
Zuli cry out. He turned back in time to see Chen knock one of the swords out of Zuli’s hands,
sending it spinning to the side. Zuli scrambled after it, but Chen put himself in position to
block his path, kicking it further away and moving to press his advantage. He drove Zuli to
his knees again with the next blow, the force of it clear from the sound of the blades meeting.
The boy was still managing to parry from his position on the ground, muddy and desperate.
But all three of them knew it was nearly over.

A second quick, twisting strike and Chen disarmed him. The other sword landing in the long,
damp grass by the bank. Chen didn’t finish and claim victory, instead he just waited,
watching with a smirk. Hakoda wondered for a moment if there was some honour in the man,
letting Zuli die on his feet, rather than striking him down on his knees, but he doubted it. It
was probably for his own enjoyment. He certainly seemed to relish watching Zuli slowly
push himself up yet again.

He made it to his feet on shaking legs. It looked like it was taking an enormous effort, but he
held his head high and glared with his usual ferocity. Even from a distance, Hakoda could see
his chest heaving with exertion and exhaustion.

Chen smiled, slow and full, enjoying his moment, and the anticipation of the kill. Zuli’s legs
bent slightly and his weight shifted forward—he was ready to move when the stroke fell. But
Hakoda was sure they both knew he wasn’t going to make it.

His own pain long forgotten, Hakoda once again felt a shroud of helplessness fall over him.
He didn’t want to watch this boy’s death. After everything he had survived, it seemed so
deeply unfair it should come to this.

Chen lifted his sword, ready to sweep it in a debilitating arc, but before his stroke could fall,
an expression of surprise appeared on his face, his eyes widening and his mouth dropping
open at the blade suddenly protruding from his chest.

Zuli looked pretty surprised too, but only for a second, then he was diving for his closest
sword, snatching it up and rolling back to his feet with only a small stagger. Chen, still with
the same shocked expression, dropped to his knees, his sword falling from his fingers as they
scrabbled at the point of the blade sticking out of his chest. He tipped forward further and
landed face first in the mud. The sword that had struck him was standing straight up from his
back like some sort of victory flag. Behind it was Sokka, dripping wet and wild-eyed.

Hakoda took a few gasping breaths, filled with so much feeling he was dizzy with it. Seeing
his son safe and undrowned felt a little like being dipped in the river on a scorching hot day.
The relief was indescribable.

“Sokka,” Zuli said. He was taking his own deep breaths, poor kid had just been preparing
himself to die, his own emotions must be overwhelming. Sokka didn’t reply, he just stared at
Chen’s body, his eyes still impossibly wide.

The corpse groaned and twitched.

“Shit, he’s not dead,” Sokka said, his voice a bit high, and mirroring Hakoda’s thoughts
exactly.

Zuli seemed to regain control of himself, giving his body a shake like a wet dog. He bent and
picked up Chen’s sword, chucking it far enough aside not to be a potential problem in the
unlikely event the man got his second wind. “Take your blade out,” he said.
Sokka looked like he was psyching himself up, but stepped forward, put a foot on Chen’s
back and pulled his sword. It didn’t look like it came out easily, and Hakoda winced a bit.
Zuli grabbed Chen’s armour and heaved him onto his back. Just doing that much seemed to
take it out of him again and he bent at the waist for a moment, breathing deep.

Both boys were staring at Chen as the man gurgled blood. His eyes were open, but his hands
were lax by his sides, no longer feeling for his wounds. Hakoda was pretty sure he was not
going to live, he was also certain it would not be a fast or pleasant end.

“What do we do?” Sokka asked. He looked calmer, like he was prepared to deal with the
situation now the shock of stabbing someone had faded a bit.

“We leave him to die or we kill him,” Zuli said, matter of fact. “He won’t live until
tomorrow.”

“Kill him,” Sokka said, without missing a beat. “Definitely kill him.” There was a hard
expression on his face that Hakoda had never seen before, and it was one he didn’t like at all.

Zuli looked resolute, but he was clearly taking no joy in the situation. “Do you want to do it,
or shall I?” he asked.

Sokka looked at him for a moment, thoughtful, but with that same hardness in his eyes. “I’ll
do it.”

Zuli nodded solemnly. “Okay. I’ll move him, you slit his throat. I assume you know how,
being a hunter?”

“Yeah, I know how,” Sokka said.

Zuli shifted a bit, clearly uncomfortable. “Are you sure? I’m not asking because I doubt you,”
he said. “But you’ve not killed before, not like this. It’s an ugly thing to do and an ugly thing
to live with. I can take the burden of it.” He took another deep breath. “It’s not my first, as
you know, not even my first today.”

“Your first like this, though.” Sokka eyed him carefully. “No, I’ll do it. I owe him this death.
I’ve been thinking about it since the first night on the boat. There’s no burden. Not for me,
not with this sack of shit.”

Zuli nodded. He nudged the man onto his side with a mud splattered foot, holding him in
place so they didn’t get covered with arterial spray. It was horribly practical. Killing Chen
was a mercy at this point, but it was increasingly disturbing to watch. Now the danger was
passed, Hakoda could call out to them, he could put a stop to this. But at the same time, he
felt like it needed to play out. This was Sokka’s choice. He had completed his ice dodging
rites, he was almost a man, and this was war. Not to mention, this man had wronged him
greatly. It had to be his choice. Hakoda had barely been older than Sokka the first time he had
fought and killed. Hakoda hoped neither he nor his son lived to regret his decision.

Sokka moved the blade into place and gazed down at Chen with a look that was unmistakably
contemptuous. “This is for Mammak and the men of the Northern Water Tribe. And for us,
you sick bastard.” He made the cut straight and true with no hesitation.

Both boys watched Chen bleed out. Zuli’s lips moved, perhaps in some sort of prayer for the
dead. He looked a little sick.

Sokka did not. “One down, two to go,” he said.

“Sokka?”

“You okay?”

Zuli nodded, sheathed his swords and bowed from the waist, his back perfectly straight and
his eyes on the floor. His hands made the sign of the flame. Which yeah, good reminder about
that. At this point, it wasn’t unexpected, but it still made the hair on the back of Hakoda’s
neck stand up.

“Sokka, son of Kya and Chief Hakoda, I owe you a debt for my life,” Zuli said, seriously. He
remained in his rigid bow. It didn’t seem very comfortable.

Sokka’s lips curled up, and he bowed in return. It looked a lot less polished, but he was
making the effort. “You have saved my life more times than I like to count since they
captured us. There is no debt between us, Zuko, son of Ursa and the biggest bag of dicks ever
to be spawned,” Sokka said very solemnly.

Zuli, Zuko, straightened up with a scowl and put his hands on his hips, radiating indignation.
“You can’t say that! It’s a ritual, Sokka! You can’t ruin it with nonsense and stupid insults.”

“I think you will find that I can. And I said what I said.” Sokka shrugged. “He is a giant bag
of dicks.”

“He’s not.”

“Yeah?” Sokka’s demeanour changed slightly, a shade of that hard expression falling back
over his features. He walked the two steps between them and laid a hand on the left side of
his friend’s face, his fingers just touching the edge of the scar tissue. “You going to tell me
someone else did this to you?”

Zuli looked upset and unsure how to respond. He blinked rapidly and stepped back, out of
Sokka’s reach. “I deserved it.”

Sokka’s face hardened further, although it was obvious he was trying to soften his expression.
“For what? Back-chat? I’ve back-chatted everyone I’ve ever met, and I never deserved that
kind of response.”

“It’s different, he’s my father.”

“Any man who burns his own child doesn’t deserve the title.”

Zuli just stared at him, mouth an unhappy line.

Sokka sighed, long, loud and angry sounding. “Fine. We’ll talk about it another time, when
things are less fraught. But this conversation is not over. We should head back.”

“Wait, Sokka. I have to tell you I’m sorry,” Zuli blurted. He bowed again. “I’m sorry for
hurting you.” He didn’t stay down this time and straightened quickly. “I’m not sorry for not
telling you, though.”

Sokka laughed, a surprised, short bark of sound. “Let’s discuss it another time.”

“No, I need you to know now. You could have been killed today, or I could have, and it
would have been left unsaid.”

“I knew anyway, Zuko,” Sokka said, almost too quiet for Hakoda to hear.

Zuli straightened further. “I’m sorry for hurting you. I need you to know that, please.”

“Thank you.” Sokka’s voice had softened even more. “I’m sorry too. I said some stuff, and I
shouldn’t have hit you.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” Sokka said sharply. “Why didn’t you fight me when I attacked you?” He was
looking at him shrewdly, assessing carefully.

Zuli shrugged, averting his eyes. Even from this distance, Hakoda knew he was avoiding the
question. Sokka clearly did too.

“There is something else, isn’t there?” Sokka said, with some apparent reluctance. “You don’t
feel bad about not telling me about my father, but there is something else which is making
you feel guilty. What is it, Zuko? I want to trust you. I want to so bad, but this has fucked me
up, I don’t know if I can.”

Zuli shook his head

“Please,” Sokka said, “I need to know what it is. It’s better if you tell me rather than I find
out. At least take this one lesson from what happened yesterday.”

Zuli looked wrecked, and Hakoda could feel his own fear rising up again. What had the kid
done? The possibilities were endless and unpleasant. The boy was clearly floundering in the
face of Sokka’s pleading. As a man who also struggled when confronted with his son’s puppy
dog eyes, Hakoda could appreciate their power. Zuli closed his own eyes and took some
shaky breaths. Then he dropped to his knees and put his face to the floor.

Sokka looked shocked for a moment. “No, get up. I don’t like it when you do that. I don’t
want you to ever do that for me, okay? Sit up.” He reached out and tried to tug his friend
upright, although he was obviously meeting some resistance. “Please, Zuko. I get you’re
sorry for whatever it is, but I just need you to sit up and tell me.”

Zuli pushed himself back up to his knees, eyes downcast. His throat was working like he was
trying to speak, but couldn’t get his words out. “I’m sorry, Sokka.” he burst out at last.
“I know, buddy. Just tell me, please.” Sokka was clearly attempting to keep his voice gentle
even though he was tense with anxiety. He didn’t want to hear whatever this betrayal was,
and frankly, neither did Hakoda, although he couldn’t think for the life of him what it was
going to be. Sokka clearly knew about the firebending, so it wasn’t that, and as far as Hakoda
could tell, he had done nothing to endanger anyone while staying at the camp. He was not
likely to be trying to make any deals with the admiral’s men, not with what they had done to
him. But that, or something like it, did seem like the most likely option, although Hakoda just
couldn’t see it happening. Like his son, he just wanted the boy to get it over with and tell
them, not knowing felt much worse.

Zuli looked like he was going to be sick. “I knew the rules and I broke them. I didn’t mean to,
but I did.” He tried to go back into that deep bow again but caught himself and just stared at
the mud under his knees instead.

“What?” Sokka asked, his voice bewildered. “What rules? Why would you think I would
ever expect you to follow the rules? You’re shit at that, you’re a man made to ignore them.”

“Zhao’s rules,” Zuli said. “On the boat.”

Sokka shook his head in apparent confusion. “What? You never obeyed his bullshit. You spat
on him, threw piss on him and fought the whole time. I don’t know what you're talking
about.”

“When I went to his cabin, after I wrote to my sister. He told me the rules. He said I mustn’t
fight or resist him.” Zuli swallowed, eyes closed. “If I did, he would do what he was going to
do to me, to you.”

“Oh,” Sokka said in a small voice. “Those rules.” He squatted down on his haunches so they
were at eye level, although Zuli still had his yellow gaze pointed at the ground.

“He made it clear. He said if I did what he told me, they wouldn’t burn you or do...other
things. So I did what he asked.” He looked up, face imploring. “I promise I tried, I didn’t
fight the first time. I let him.” His mouth screwed up and his chin wobbled a little. “But the
second time, I...I just couldn’t. I panicked. And I fought him.” He made a sound that might
have been a laugh, although there was no humour in it. “It didn’t make any difference. I think
he enjoyed it. He thought it was funny I was too weak to even struggle properly. But he told
me what would happen if I fought and I did it anyway, and I’m sorry, Sokka.”

Sokka was shaking his head. “No, Zuko, no, you don’t have to apologise for this! There is no
debt between us, you idiot.” He reached out and dragged his friend into a hug. “You’ve been
holding on to this the whole time? You moron. I could never blame you for fighting in those
circumstances. Would you blame me if our positions were reversed?”

“But I knew what he would do, Sokka, I knew, and I still did it!”

“Zuko, Zhao didn’t give a shit about me, about hurting me. He only cared about hurting you.
Never apologise for trying to protect yourself.” Hakoda couldn’t see Sokka’s face, as it was
buried somewhere in Zuli’s neck, but his voice sounded a little wet, like he couldn’t quite
keep the tears back. “If he wanted to hurt you by hurting me like that, he would have found a
way to make it happen no matter if you obeyed his every word or fought him every step of
the way. He has no honour, you have said it yourself many times. If he wanted to do that, he
would just do it and then he would have found a way to blame you for it.”

Zuli’s voice was a bit too muffled for Hakoda to make out what he was saying until he
eventually pulled back from their embrace. “He punished me for it, he burned me.” He
gestured vaguely downward and Hakoda couldn’t help but remember the awful state of the
burns on his hips when he had first arrived at camp. “But if we hadn’t gotten out…”

Sokka shook him gently. “But we did. We did get out, because you got that pin.” He leaned
forward and wiped the tears from under his friend’s eyes with his fingers. “I’m so sorry that
happened to you. There is nothing I can do to make it better, I know, but I promise you, Zhao
and that shit-heel Ro will be going the same way as Chen.”

Zuko tucked his head back into Sokka’s neck, his arms wrapped tightly around him. Sokka
snorted, sounding a little hysterical. “Spirits above, you scared me shitless. I couldn’t even
imagine what you could have possibly have done to freak you out like this. And to not fight
me! You always fight. It’s part of your charm.”

Zuli moved back a bit to give Sokka a half hearted glare. “I do not.”

“Oh yes you do. You once argued with me for seven hours about teapots.”

“Well, you were wrong!” Zuli snapped.

Sokka laughed, a smile that was at least part relief on his face. “Not the point!” He began to
push himself back to his feet. “All right, come on Sunshine, we should head back to the
camp, we need to help if we can.”

Zuli nodded. “Don’t call me that.” He sounded both affectionate and grumpy. “Are you
okay?” he asked suddenly, voice serious.

“Yeah, my boots are soggy and I got a bit bashed up, but I’m alright.”

Zuli pursed his lips. “No, I mean, are you okay, um, like inside?” He shook his head. “I
mean, because you killed someone. It’s a lot, the first time.”

“Oh. I’m fine,” Sokka said, his face hardening. “He deserved that death. Are you okay with
it?”

Zuli shrugged. “I didn’t kill him. And even if I did, he wouldn’t have been the first to die by
my sword today. I don’t like killing people, but I will if I have to. It would have been more
cruel to let him die slowly.”

“Yeah, well, he would have deserved that too. But unlike him and Ro, I don’t feel pleasure
from other people's pain and fear. But I also don’t feel bad about what I did. I’ve been
thinking about killing that piece of crap since the first night I was captured. I’m not sorry, not
at all.” He offered Zuli his hand.
Zuli nodded and grasped Sokka’s outstretched palm, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet,
where he swayed a bit.

“Alright?”

“Yeah. What they the put in the fires, the herbs, really fucked with me. I feel better than I did
though, so hopefully it’s wearing off.”

“Should we leave Chen there? Or kick him in the river?” Sokka asked, looking at the corpse
with a dispassionate expression.

“Leave him. Let the rest of them find him and wonder.”

Hakoda was concerned about Sokka’s apparent lack of care about killing someone. He
thought it might be different if the man had been killed by Sokka’s initial strike, rather than
him slitting his throat like he would have done an arctic hare. Zuli had been correct that
Chen’s death had been a mercy, but the level of Sokka’s hate was disturbing. Of course, it
was also likely that he was still riding the adrenalin from battle, and shock and emotion
would set in later. Hakoda would need to speak to him once that happened, like he had the
first time he had killed an animal. It was important to understand the implications of taking a
life, just as it was important not to dwell on it and let it fester.

“Li!” The shout was loud and furious. Both boys looked surprised, but not alarmed. And
Arms Master Fu jogged into Hakoda’s line of sight a few moments later. “Found Sokka then,
did you?”

“Yes.”

Sokka grinned tiredly. “I suspect that was a rhetorical question, Li.”

“Why ask when you already know the answer? It’s stupid!” Zuli seemed back to his normal
abrasive self. Although his face was still tear stained, confessing seemed to have lifted
something from his shoulders. The thought made Hakoda smile a little.

“Boys. If you’re both in one piece, can I recommend we head back to camp? The woods are
still full of Fire Nation pigs.” Fu spat in the dirt. “But the day is won, for now.”

“That’s a relief. You were looking for us?” Sokka asked.

“You and any other stragglers that were driven away from the camp. Checking for the
injured. We’ll keep doing sweeps until everyone is accounted for.”

Hakoda watched the Fu and boys leave the river bank and head cautiously back towards the
camp. Part of him wanted to call them over, to ask for help, but then he would have to admit
what he had seen and he had not quite finished freaking out about it yet. At least he knew if
he couldn’t free himself, there would be people out looking for him. So he turned his
attention back to his leg. As if summoned by his gaze, the throbbing, aching pain returned. It
really was like his calf was being crushed in the jaws of a shark. He took a few deep breaths,
fighting off the sudden surge of dizziness. He had been riding on a wave of adrenaline too
and now it was wearing off, leaving him sick and shaky. He examined the trap and its
mechanism carefully. He thought he could use the blade of his spear and his knife together to
lever it open, although as soon as it released, he was going to lose a lot of blood.

He stripped off his shirt and cut it carefully to provide enough fabric to create both a
tourniquet and a makeshift bandage. Apart from the bleeding, he wasn’t sure how much
damage there was, if the injuries were just cutting, or if he was going to have to deal with
crushing ones too. Either way, he would use his spear as a staff and make it back to camp.
Failure was not an option.

He grit his teeth and set to work.

When he woke, he was staring at the clouds. It took a moment for his body to remember it
hurt, but when it did, it went all in. It felt like something was still stabbing his leg and he
groaned, trying to push himself up to look. Strong hands slammed him flat again, rattling his
teeth in his head with the impact.

Zuli’s golden eyes stared at him, upside-down. “He’s awake.”

“Dad! Are you okay?” Sokka’s worried voice came from somewhere down by his feet.

“Poor timing, as always, Hakoda,” Panuk’s voice put in. Hearing the healer calmed him
slightly, clearly he had made it back to camp, although he couldn’t remember getting there.
“Get him to drink this, Li.”

A moment later Zuli attempted to ram most of a tin mug into his mouth, and Hakoda coughed
on the foul tasting potion, sending half of it up his nose.

“Fuck’s sake, Li,” Sokka said. “Gently. We’ve had this discussion before.”

Hakoda did his best to see what was happening, which was hard when he was flat on his back
and being drowned by a furious-looking teenage firebender, but he thought Sokka might be
holding his leg still while Panuk tended it.

Li looked even more determined to pour medicine onto his face, and Hakoda considered
fighting him, but there was actually a genuine concern he might drown from the disguising
concoction being tipped up his nose by accident, so instead he opened his mouth and drank it.

“You really, really need to work on your bedside manner, Li,” he heard his son saying as he
drifted off.

Safe. At least they were both safe.

The second time he woke, things were clearer. His leg was bandaged, and the pain was a dull,
continuous ache. The camp appeared to be in disarray, but it was running, with people darting
about, busy like a hive of bees.

He was outside on a pallet, surrounded by other wounded men. Clearly, this area was being
used as an overspill from the healer’s tent.

The boys were close by, watching the activity in the camp. They looked a little lost, standing
too close to each other, Sokka with one hand fisted in the back of the other boy’s muddy shirt,
and Zuli still holding both his swords like he was frightened to sheathe them. They both
looked tired, dirty, and a little stunned, but alive and unhurt. That was the most important
thing, and something Hakoda had feared would not be the case far too many times during this
long morning.

He noted that people were eyeing Zuli as they passed and for one moment Hakoda was filled
with fear—did people know? Had someone seen? But when he fought the panic down, he
realised although people looked a little baffled, they also seemed respectful.

“He fought remarkably well,” Panuk said, appearing from the right, and following Hakoda’s
gaze and his thoughts. “Far better than a sixteen-year-old should be able to without training
from an early age.”

“He’s had it,” Hakoda agreed. “I saw him earlier. Very impressive, a lot of skill.” Even as he
said it, his mind's-eye flashed back to the jet of fire that had shot over his son’s head. He
couldn’t quite repress his shudder.

Panuk shot him a sharp look. “Everything okay, Hakoda? The obvious aside, I mean.”

“Yeah, great. I just witnessed my son slit a man’s throat and I have more than a sneaking
suspicion he has been extremely dishonest with me. But other than that, great.”

Panuk snorted quietly. “Feeling a little full of piss and vinegar are we? Can’t say I blame you,
after today.”

Hakoda grunted sourly. “Horrible pain will do that to you.” Pain and fear. So much fear. But
he didn’t need to tell Panuk that.

Unfortunately, the man was unnaturally perceptive at times. Panuk moved closer, bending
forward slightly to fuss with the bedclothes, making certain their words could not be
overheard. “And what would Sokka have to be dishonest about?” he asked, his voice
carefully neutral.

Hakoda couldn’t bring himself to say. He was still trying to think his way through it, and
although he could use the input of someone else, he didn’t want to endanger the boy if he
didn’t have to.

Panuk glanced at him, assessing and calm. “You were gone from the fight for some time.
Sokka hadn’t seen you when he arrived back at camp. Therefore, I have to assume you
observed him slitting a man’s throat without his knowledge. What else did you see that might
make you think he has been dishonest?” Panuk met his eyes and Hakoda’s gut twisted as he
realised the man knew. He knew. But he also didn’t want to out the boy, didn’t want to admit
it first, same as Hakoda.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but he knew Panuk took his oaths seriously—he would
only cause harm or do violence if he was attacked or out of defence of others. He obviously
had not thought Zuli’s…nature enough of a threat to bring it up. “I learned some more
information about Li,” Hakoda said quietly, watching Panuk’s face carefully.

“Oh?”

“I learned his name for one, Zuko.”

Panuk nodded. “Fire Nation name, but then, so is Zuli.” He paused and examined Hakoda in
turn, he appeared to see whatever he was expecting written across his features. “Did you see
him bend?” he asked, voice low.

Hakoda nodded. “How did you know?”

“I suspected. The boy spends every second he can in the sun, but he doesn’t tan or burn, even
with that pale skin. He runs hot to the touch, and he eats more than even Sokka can manage,
and that boy can pack away food like a tiger seal preparing to pup. Firebenders create their
own flame, they need more calories.”

Hakoda frowned. “But he hasn’t been bending. I’ve never seen any sign of it.”

“Hasn’t he? I don’t think benders can stop themselves. I suspect he regulates his body
temperature when it is cold and his clothes dry remarkably fast after he washes them. Not to
mention the fact that since he has begun to regain his strength, their tent is always warm. Did
you think teenage boys just naturally gave off enough energy to heat their tents to that
degree?”

Hakoda grunted. All good points. Had he missed them or had he been wilfully avoiding
seeing them? Because subconsciously he didn’t want to deal with the fact his son had been
sharing a bedroll with the boy. He had been enjoying the warmth of cuddling a firebender.
Hakoda could admit that his brain felt a little broken by the thought. It was a terrifying
prospect, and he honestly wasn’t sure if he should or could stop it.

He understood the closeness, he understood it well. After trauma and loss, some people
forced the world away from them, pulled their own isolation around them like a hard shell.
Others sought solace in something — drink, sex, helping others who had suffered, all manner
of things. And some people drew their support from those close to them, in this case, from
someone who had witnessed and experienced the same horrible events. The cuddling and
intimacy was a physical manifestation of the emotional support they were seeking from one
another. The same way Hakoda had slept with his kids in his bed for a year after Kya had
been murdered. He didn’t want to take that away from them, or for them to misunderstand his
reasons for wanting to. But he had a visceral and instinctive fear of firebenders, of what they
were capable of, of how devastatingly destructive they could be. Zuli’s temper was
considerable, even if he didn’t mean to do it, it wouldn’t matter if he lost control. He could
kill or maim Sokka without even meaning to. Hakoda still woke up with the smell of his
wife’s burnt hair choking him out of sleep. How could he take that risk? But also, how could
he stop it?

“You didn’t think to mention this?” he said, his voice a little hard. It felt like his skin was
prickling with the need to do something, anything.

Panuk shifted from kneeling to cross-legged and began to crush some herbs with his pestle.
“Why? Why borrow trouble? The boy has been through enough. He has done nothing to
indicate he intends any harm to us or to Sokka.” He paused to look Hakoda in the eye. “The
things that happened to Zuli also happened to Zuko. There is no difference between them.
Zuko is also a hurt boy who desperately needs protection from the people who wish him
harm.”

“I know that,” Hakoda said. He felt like he should be angry that people were keeping such
dangerous secrets from him, but instead, he just felt exhausted. He did know, he agreed with
Panuk, but there was a part of him that was still so afraid of the potential risk to his son.

Panuk beat his pestle down with practised motions, holding the bowl still with his ruined
hand. “Just because he can bend doesn’t change any of that. He may be full Fire Nation, he
may be half Earth. I don’t know, and frankly, I don’t care. Where he comes from makes no
difference to who he is. The only thing that would make me treat him any other way was if he
became a threat to Sokka or any of our people. But thus far I have seen no evidence of such a
thing happening or any likelihood of it.”

“You are that certain of him?” As selfish as it was, he wanted to hear it from someone else, to
hear that reassurance. Hakoda hurt and he was mentally and physically exhausted. He had to
make decisions that were best for the entire tribe, not just him and his family. But spirits
above and below, he just wanted someone else to take charge, just for a few days so he could
rest, a few hours even.

Panuk shook his head, he looked sympathetic, like he could see Hakoda’s struggles. “I do not
believe he would do us any purposeful harm, and I suspect he would throw himself on his
sword rather than hurt Sokka. So, I ask you, does it matter?”

Hakoda took a deep breath. Did it? It might, in the future, the near future. But not right now.
“No, no, it doesn’t. Not to me. Thank you, Panuk.”

Panuk patted his arm. “You’re a good man, Hakoda, don’t let your duty lead you astray or
wear you away so much you lose yourself.”

Easy for him to say. But he was right, he usually was.

Panuk pushed himself awkwardly to his feet, taking up his flask of water and mixing the
herbs in a tin mug. “Later we can talk about the other thing, about Sokka, but right now I’m
going to check them over and put them to work. I need runners and some practical help with
the wounded. You okay with that?”

“Yes.”
“Drink this.” Panuk thrust the foul smelling brew into his hands. Hakoda made an unhappy
face at him and the healer chuckled. “You and Sokka make that same expression. Li at least
drinks his tinctures like a brave boy.”

Hakoda had seen Zuli drink his tinctures, and he looked like he was facing his own execution
every time. But he did drink them, unlike Sokka, who would ‘accidentally’ spill them at any
given opportunity.

Hakoda watched as Panuk made his way over to the boys and spoke to them. They both
seemed keen to help, and were quickly dispatched to undertake some task or other.

Under Panuk’s direction, two soldiers helped move him back to his own tent, which was
somehow still standing. It was just the same as he had left it in the mad morning dash. His
boots discarded on the floor and his bedding in disarray. Once settled back onto his pallet, he
reluctantly drank down another of Panuk’s medicinal cocktails and allowed his eyes to slip
closed. He suspected his dreams would not be pleasant.

Evening had fallen by the time Hakoda woke up. There had been a great deal of activity
outside the tent. The boys had returned, clearly exhausted and perhaps seeking some comfort
from his presence, but at least dressed in clean clothes. It had been quite the day.

He stared at the ceiling of his tent. The pain from his leg was pulsing in time with his
heartbeat and his mind felt like it was a twisted mess of snarled fishing lines and hooks. He
turned his head and shifted himself, wincing a little as his leg protested. Beside his raised
pallet, the boys were curled together on the floor like a pair of anxious puppies, too worn out
by the day’s events to stay awake. Sokka was on his back, snoring with quiet vigour. Zuli was
sprawled half on top of him, his mouth hanging slightly open. He looked soft and very
young. Not much like a murderous firebender.

It must happen, mixed kids being born with the ability to bend. It was possible the story they
had told was true. Hakoda thought back, carefully running over Sokka’s words. Zuli had said
practically nothing about his own history, it had all been Sokka. His father is Fire Nation.
That was what his son had said, more than once. There had never been any mention of the
mother, it had just been assumed, implied due to the context of the conversation, that she was
Earth. What else had been left out? Or been dangled like bait so they would draw the wrong
conclusions? She could have been Earth, it still wasn’t impossible, but Hakoda was starting
to seriously doubt it. The kid looked like a Fire Nation poster boy, aside from the scar.

Hakoda looked at his son, his mouth thinning a little as his feelings churned unhappily. He
had been played, skilfully played, they all had. There was a part of him that was impressed, a
part that was achingly sad that Sokka didn’t trust him and a part of him that was rightfully
furious, that he had put this boy above the safety of his people. But could he blame Sokka for
that? He didn’t think he could, considering. Zuli had said that Sokka was all he had and
Hakoda suspected on some level Sokka felt the same way. Not because he didn’t have the
love and support of his family and friends, but because no one else could really understand
what the two of them had been through, what they had suffered.
And one thing that Hakoda had taken away from what he had witnessed this morning was
that Zuli was loyal to Sokka. He had no doubt of that, wherever he was raised, and whatever
his parentage. What he had done to try and keep Sokka safe made Hakoda’s heart break for
him.

Hakoda owed him for his son’s life, and in spite of his doubts, in spite of his fear, he liked the
kid. In many ways, knowing the boy could firebend made a lot of those itchy unpleasant
feelings he had been feeling about him disappear. They had been replaced by some healthy
fear, and he wasn’t sure what exactly he should do about the current situation, but at least
now he knew why he had been feeling that way about the boy. Knowing what they had been
hiding was actually a relief. Whatever happened, Hakoda was planning to protect both of
them to the best of his ability. If he could persuade them onto the boat, that might make
things easier. He didn’t want to weather another attack like today’s away from his people. He
would take them all back to the ships. It was time to stop listening to the general and take
charge of the way the Water Tribes would play their part in the upcoming action. He would
not let Huang dictate it, and he would not let his people suffer the same fate as the 54th.

Spirits, he hadn’t even had time to think about Shen and his men. He didn’t think they had
returned, and as such, he was forced to think the worst. That hurt. Allies and friends were not
easy to come by and he found he had become fond of the man. His potential loss was made
more bitter by the pointlessness of it all. Even Huang should have been able to see that, the
54th would have been much better at camp, helping to defend it. If Shen did not return,
Hakoda didn’t think he was going to be able to forgive the general. He had already lost all
faith in the man’s judgement.

The tent flap drew back, and Bato stepped in. Hakoda felt a welcome rush of affection and he
gave the best grin he could manage in greeting. Bato smiled back, the lines in the corners of
his eyes wrinkling deeply. How had they gotten old enough to have such pronounced crow’s
feet? It had happened without him noticing.

“How’re you feeling?” Bato asked.

“Like shit, thanks.”

Bato snorted. He sat on the mat and leaned over the pile of teenage limbs to grip Hakoda’s
hand. “You need some more pain relief?”

“Yeah, but in a bit. We have some problems we need to discuss first.”

“Some problems, that’s one way to put it.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Hakoda sighed.

He pushed himself up again to lean a hand out and brush his fingers over Zuli’s unscarred
cheek. He could feel the unnatural warmth just from the light touch. How had he not noticed
before? Thinking back, the only real times they’d had any physical contact had been in
moments of intense emotional distress for Zuli, when body temperature rose anyway. Perhaps
he had fooled himself into thinking it was normal.
He took Bato’s hand and lay it gently on the boy’s forehead. Zuli made a small snuffling
noise but didn’t wake. Perhaps too exhausted, or just so used to Sokka’s flaily, grabby
sleeping habits to register the touch as unusual.

Bato’s brow wrinkled in concern. “Is he sick?”

“Nope,” Hakoda said.

Bato raised his eyes in confusion, attempting to figure out what Hakoda was trying to tell
him. Then shocked realisation dawned on his face. “Shit,” he said, with feeling. “Shit, shit,
shit.” He didn’t snatch his hand back, but he didn’t let it linger either.

Hakoda pushed himself back up on his pillows and rubbed at his face. “Yeah, that about sums
it up. The words I used were perhaps less pleasant.”

“Does Sokka know?”

“Oh yeah, Sokka most certainly knows,” Hakoda said, some of his angry frustration leaking
into his voice. He tried to tone it down a bit, keep his volume to a low rumble, but it was
hard. “At this point I’m more inclined to believe what Zuli has told us about himself over
what Sokka has told us.”

“Yeah, Li can’t lie for shit,” Bato said, almost fondly, and echoing Hakoda’s thoughts.

“No, he can’t. Sokka, however, seems perfectly capable of twisting the truth until it looks a
completely different shape to where it started. I am both impressed and appalled.”

“What are we going to do about it?” Bato asked, and Hakoda let himself smile. He did love
that man.

“Protect him from Huang. Get them out of this camp. The longer he’s here, the more likely
someone will find out.”

“You want to put a…what he is, on a wooden boat?” Bato raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t
sound like he was objecting to the idea, just raising a legitimate concern.

Hakoda winced, because, yeah, he had also been thinking about that. “Just for now. I don’t
want to take them to Ba Sing Se.”

“No, we don’t know how that fight’s going to go, but what can we do with them? They’re
barely safe here, sending them away will put them in as much danger if the admiral gets wind
of it. And where is there for them to even go?”

“I know, I know. There are no easy answers.” And he didn’t know where to even start to try
to find them.

“How did you find out?”

“I saw him bend. There was a lot going on, I thought Sokka was going to die. So when he did
it, it was almost a relief, and it took a while for me to begin to process it. It’s taken me the
better part of the day to accept. It doesn’t change anything, not for me.”

Bato was rubbing his burned arm, but he was nodding. It was a relief that they were on the
same page.

Below them, almost like he knew they were talking about him, Zuli began to stir, shifting
about uneasily before his visible yellow eye popped open with an edge of panic.

“Sorry if we woke you,” Hakoda said softly.

Zuli blinked at him, relaxing the tiniest amount, before he shifted so he could see Bato,
almost turning his back to Hakoda, in what he interpreted as trust. Zuli knew Bato, had eaten
with him many times, but he had never really spoken to him in the way he had with Hakoda,
so a little mistrust was to be expected.

Bato, for his part, kept his body relaxed, even forcing out a smile, although Hakoda could
recognise the underlying apprehension. The fact they were sitting in the tent with a
firebender, even a pint-sized one, was a lot to get your head around in a short space of time.
He was sure Zuli sensed the tension too, it was the one thing he could always pick up on,
although he never seemed to be able to work out exactly why people were agitated, he knew
that they were.

“Are you okay, Li?” Hakoda asked. “Bad dream?”

Zuli shifted again, sitting fully upright and keeping both of them within view. “I’m okay,” he
said in his raspy voice. It sounded wrecked. He had spent a fair bit of time vomiting and
coughing today, so it was hardly surprising. “Are you?” he asked. “Does your leg hurt?”

Hakoda gave him a wry smile. “Yeah, it hurts like a son of a bitch.”

“Do you want me to fetch Healer Panuk?”

“No need,” Bato rumbled at him. “I have the pain medicine here. It makes a man drowsy,
though, so Hakoda is being stubborn and putting off taking a dose until he has gone over
every possible part of the day’s events at least twice.”

Zuli nodded, like he fully understood that logic. Perhaps he did.

Sokka snorted in his sleep and smacked his lips. Hakoda couldn’t hold back the small smile
that crept out. He noticed that both Zuli and Bato had similar expressions on their faces. The
thought warmed him. It also relaxed him a little more, reminded him that no matter what he
was, Zuli would not harm Sokka on purpose, quite the opposite.

“It’s safe to go back to sleep, Li,” he said. “Although I understand if you don’t feel you can,
you should at least try.”

Instead of answering, Zuli shot Bato a look from under his lashes and straightened his back.
That always seemed to be a sign he was struggling with something emotionally and about to
face it head on.
“Bato?” Zuli asked after what seemed like a long moment of contemplation.

“Yes?”

“You were out in the camp. You’ve spoken to the Earth Kingdom people today?”

“Yes.” Bato was keeping himself relaxed, his face easy and calm.

“Is there any news of the 54th? Did any of them come back?” Zuli looked down at his hands
as they twisted in his light blanket. “Did they rescue the villagers?”

“No,” Bato said gently. “There has been no word. I suspect that means the news is not good.”

Zuli nodded. He looked at Hakoda. “Will Huang send people to look? Or is he just going to
give up on them?”

This was a conversation Hakoda wished could have waited for the morning. “I’m not sure,
Li.” Hakoda would push for it, after they had regrouped. But the attack, plus the herb stuff in
the smoke, had added a great deal more heat to a pot that was already nearly boiling over.

“Tomorrow I’m going to look for them,” Zuli said. He clearly wasn’t asking permission. “I’m
going to the village. You and Huang can come if you want, or not as you see fit, but I’m
going.” The ‘And you can’t stop me’ was pretty clear in his tone.

Hakoda sighed, he wished he had taken his painkillers, he wished he was already asleep. “I
understand, Li. It’s what I want too. I will do my best to make it happen.” He pushed himself
onto one elbow and reached out a hand to ruffle the kid’s hair. He allowed it with only a
small snarl. Progress was being made. It was a little like trying to tame a pygmy puma.
“Listen, if we want the greatest chance of success, we have to approach this carefully and
diplomatically.” If that didn’t work, then Hakoda was not above threats. But slow and steady
was definitely better if possible. “We can discuss it together tomorrow, with Sokka’s input.”

“Sokka says I’m not very diplomatic. That I’m not cut out for politics,” Zuli said. He
sounded somewhere between offended and sheepish. “But he mostly said that because I
threw piss on Zhao.”

Hakoda was pretty sure that was not the only reason Sokka held that particular opinion, and
he did his best to keep his face serious, although it was difficult, as he could see Bato trying
to hold back a grin. “So we plan together, and then you let me do the talking.”

“Okay. Tomorrow. But if it doesn’t work, I’m going to go myself. I have to know, even if the
news is bad.”

“I understand.” He did, and it would undoubtedly be a disaster, but hopefully it wouldn’t

come to that. “Try to sleep, Li.”

He nodded and lay back down. But Hakoda could see he was tense, his eyes open and
gleaming a little in the dim light.
“Take your own advice, Hakoda.” Bato said, passing him over his draught of painkiller.
“Take this and sleep. I’ll keep watch.”

Hakoda wanted to tell him he should sleep too, but he couldn’t bring himself to. He needed
someone to keep watch. He wasn’t going to trust the boys’ safety to the Earth Kingdom
sentries, not after today.

Tomorrow would be a different kind of battle, and he would need to fight it on more than one
front. Firstly, finding Shen even if the news was bad, he thought Zuli needed to know, and
Hakoda did too, for both personal and practical reasons.

The second fight would depend a little on the outcome of the first, getting the boys out of the
camp, onto the boat and out of Huang’s clutches.

“Chief Hakoda?” Zuli’s voice floated out of the darkness, derailing his thoughts.

“Yes, Li?”

“Sokka killed a man today.”

Hakoda froze in surprise. For some reason, he hadn’t thought either of the boys would bring
that up. “Oh?” he said. He needed to tread carefully, offer support without revealing he
already knew.

“One of the men from the boat.” Zuli fell quiet for a moment, and there was just the sound of
Sokka’s robust snores filling the tent. “He hurt us. It was a just killing.” There was the sound
of shuffling as Zuli moved himself. “Sokka says he’s not upset by it, but I think it just hasn’t
hit him yet.”

Hakoda nodded, then realised the kid couldn’t see him. “That might be the case. Sometimes
the adrenaline of battle needs to wear off before you can feel emotion properly. Sometimes it
takes weeks before feeling kicks in if what happened was…upsetting.”

“Yeah, probably, but I’m worried. Sometimes when you get so angry, you can do bad things
without realising it, without meaning to. I don’t want him to be angry like that.” His voice
fell, almost too low for Hakoda to hear. “Like me.”

Hakoda didn’t answer, he wasn’t sure what to say. He wanted to give them both a hug,
although it would not be welcome, and he wanted to kill the people who had hurt them,
including Zuli’s shitbag of a father, whoever he was.

Zuli sighed. “I need you to look after him, help him through it. So if I’m not there, you will
be.”

This was sounding a little worrying and Hakoda pushed himself up despite the medicine and
exhaustion tugging at his limbs. “You will be there, Li. Unless you were planning not to be?”

He was quiet for a moment. “I nearly died today. Would have, if Sokka hadn’t saved me.” He
sat up too, staring at Hakoda through the dark. “Too weak to fight. It seems to be a recurring
 theme in my life.” He snorted lightly. “But whatever. All I’m saying is that we don’t know
what’s going to happen, and you should know what he might be struggling with. That’s all.”

“Thank you,” Hakoda said, and he meant it from the bottom of his heart. He didn’t think it
was easy for Zuli to trust him with this or anything else. Both as an adult, as a soldier, and
possibly as a father, too. It meant a lot that he had forced himself to take this step. “Between
the two of us, we will take care of him, I promise.”

“I hope so.”

There was the sound of quiet movement as Zuli lay down again and Sokka shifted position,
his snores changing pitch slightly. Hakoda let the herbs ease his pain and tug him towards
sleep.

Tomorrow was not going to be an easy day.

Chapter End Notes

Next Chapter: Hakoda endeavours to uncover the fate of the 54th, Zuko loses his
patience, Huang loses his grip and Sokka deploys his most powerful weapon with
devastating efficiency.
 Chapter 12
Chapter Summary

“I have a plan.”

Sokka let himself fall back onto their pillow with a thump. “Aw, fuck.”

Chapter Notes

Warnings: descriptions of violent death, death, mention of non-con, bit of torture (been a
while since we have had that tag!) broken bones.

Many thanks to my beta burkesl17, who has managed to wrangle my dyslexic nonsense.
All mistakes are my own.

Sorry this one was later than usual. I have had a really rough couple of weeks, and am
still reeling a little. Not sure if next chapter will be faster or slower as a result…

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Hakoda woke to an aching pain in his leg and a burn in his muscles that reminded him that
leaping from sleep into battle was not something his body enjoyed. The enormity of
yesterday’s events and revelations crashed down on him all at once, making his head spin
almost in time with the pulsing pains in his body. He lay still for a moment, trying to collect
his thoughts. But he was distracted by the furious whispers coming from the boys, apparently
still curled on the floor. Hakoda should probably let them know he was awake, but he was
still smarting a little about the sheer number of very important things his son had been hiding
from him, and he had the feeling the only way he was going to fill in the gaps of yesterday’s
overload of information was to observe. So he kept his breathing even and remained silent,
eyes closed.

“I can be diplomatic!” Zuli was saying, in what might have passed for quiet in his head, but
was most certainly not in reality.

“Buddy, you are about as diplomatic as a punch in the teeth.” Sokka, at least, was
maintaining something that sounded like an actual whisper.
“Not true. I know I’m not usually, but I can be.”

“Name one time,” Sokka sounded very amused. “Give me an example. Anything under the
age of fourteen doesn’t count. Got to be recent.”

There was the sound of angry thinking that was probably actually Zuli’s teeth grinding.
Hakoda grinned up at the tent canopy. Although the day ahead was daunting, he was glad that
the boys apparently had the energy to bicker about nonsense rather than divulging more
anxiety inducing secrets. It was a relief.

“Uncle let me barter for supplies sometimes. And I always got the goods at a decent price,”
Zuli said eventually.

Sokka made a little huffing noise. “And how did you do that?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you convince them using clever augments and fancy words, or did you just order them
to give you the stuff on the cheap? Did you threaten or yell at them?”

There was a long, sullen silence. “I might have a little, but they were very rude.”

“Uh huh. Well, I am going to suggest that we stick to my dad’s plan. Let him do the talking,
okay?”

That was gratifying to hear, at least there was still some trust between them. Perhaps Hakoda
was earning it back. He hoped so.

“Alright,” Zuli said, sounding a little reluctant. “But if it doesn’t work, I will be going to the
village whether the general likes it or not.”

“Fair enough. But let’s do things smartly and not be rash and impulsive. I know this is a
foreign concept to you.”

“Shut up, Sokka.”

“But I think with a little effort you will be able to manage it. Try not speaking.”

Zuli breathed out loudly through his nose, sounding like an arctic camel getting ready to
challenge a rival. “You’re not as funny as you think you are.”

“You keep saying that, but it doesn’t actually make it true.” Hakoda could hear the grin in
Sokka’s voice.

There was some shuffling and a light thump, which Hakoda assumed was Zuli hitting some
part of his son. Sokka grunted, but didn’t seem particularly put out. Zuli sat up, entering
Hakoda’s field of vision, so he made a little show of stretching and blinking like he had just
woken.
Zuli stared at him, intense and focused. As always, Hakoda felt a little jolt at the yellowness
of his eyes.

“Good morning,” Hakoda offered when it seemed he was just going to stare and not do
anything else.

“Good morning.” He still hadn’t moved or blinked. Hakoda gazed back, a little bemused.

Sokka sat up beside him, stretching his arms above his head and yawning hugely. “How are
you feeling, Dad?”

“Sore, but I’ll live.”

“Do you want anything for the pain?” Zuli asked. “I can get healer Panuk.”

Hakoda shook his head, wincing as the motion pulled muscles in his shoulders that he hadn’t
even been aware were hurting. “No, I want to be conscious for at least some of the day.” He
could use something to take the edge off the ache, but the medicine made him drowsy, and
there was far too much to do today.

Zuli’s face pulled into a scowl. “Healer Panuk said you should keep taking your herbs, so I’m
going to tell him you’re awake.”

“I’m fine, Li,” Hakoda said. Zuli gave him a scathing look before pushing himself up, clearly
intending to head out the tent. He didn’t wince, or show any sign of yesterday’s fight,
although he also must have been feeling it. “Li,” he started, but the boy ignored him.

“I will be back with the healer,” he said, before shoving the tent flap out his way like it had
offended him.

Hakoda sighed, a little aggravated. “Got to say, I was not expecting that kid to be such a
mother hen.”

Sokka’s face was a picture of rueful affection. “He’s full of surprises.”

Hakoda grunted. Yeah, no kidding. “You better go after him. Make sure he doesn’t get into
trouble on the way.” In normal circumstances, or if it was anyone else, Hakoda would
consider a trip across a mostly friendly camp unlikely to end in disaster. But with Zuli,
especially with all this new knowledge he had about the brat? He wasn’t going to bet on it.

Sokka let out a sigh too and heaved himself up, heading for the door. “Yeah, you’re probably
right.”

He squeaked as he pulled back the tent flap to find Bato standing there, one hand raised. Then
he grinned and looked back at Hakoda. “Stay in bed for now. Bato can bring you breakfast,
and then I’ll come back with Panuk. And, if you’re very unlucky, he might have Li help re-
bandage your wounds.” His smile took on a slightly evil edge. “He may be a mother hen, but
his efforts at being a nurse are atrocious. You would be advised to heal up quick.” Then he
was gone.
Hakoda huffed. He had vague memories of Zuli forcing medicine down his throat and up his
nose. He didn’t want a repeat.

“How are you feeling?” Bato asked. He offered Hakoda some tea and helped him sit up to
drink it.

“Achy, leg hurts. Otherwise okay. I got lucky, I think.”

Bato nodded seriously. “You did. You weren’t the only one caught in one of those things.
Some of the injuries were very bad. The ones that were less lucky were found by the Fire
Nation before they could get free and were killed where they lay.”

Hakoda shook his head, his easy mood evaporating with the mention of the fight. He took a
sip of his tea, it was strong and bitter. “Today is going to suck,” he said.

Bato sat beside him, folding his long limbs carefully and pulling the boys’ discarded blanket
onto his lap. “It’s certainly going to be tough. Convincing Huang to go after the 54th is going
to be a challenge. Then we have to decide what to do about Li.”

“And Sokka.” Hakoda lowered his voice a little. “I get why he hid those things from us. I
understand, even if I disagree with it. But it is going to make everything extremely
complicated.” He rubbed his face with his hands. “If we take Zuli onto the ships, are we
putting them at risk?”

Bato made a face. “Yes, yes we will be putting them at risk. I don’t believe Li means us any
harm, or would do anything to hurt us on purpose. But he’s a half trained boy who has
suffered a series of serious traumatic events. He’s angry, and there will always be a risk of a
loss of control. The question is, can we take that risk? Should we? Does saving him outweigh
the danger?”

Hakoda nodded. All very true, and his instinctive reaction was to say yes, saving Zuli would
be worth the danger, but it wasn’t just about him. “I learned a couple of other things
yesterday, his name, and that his face was mutilated by his father,” he said to give himself a
chance to think.

Bato’s lip curled up in horrified disgust. “Even their own children? I can’t fathom it. I hear
something like that, and I just can’t ever see any hope for peace.”

“I know.”

Bato leaned back on his hands, looking a little drawn. “What’s his name?”

“Zuko.”

“Punchy, it suits him. But it’s not that different from Zuli, why hide it?”

“That is another cause for concern,” Hakoda agreed. “Perhaps he was just hoping to leave his
identity behind? Or maybe people might use his name to look for him.”

“We haven’t spent enough time in the colonies, is it such an unusual name?”
Hakoda shrugged. “I had a theory from something I discussed with Shen. It’s possible his
father is someone of note in the Fire Nation. High up in society there, a general or nobly
born. Shen told me that particular eye colour is prized among the ruling classes and is seen
more often among them.”

Bato looked tired. “Why burn his child’s face, though?” he asked, almost plaintive.

“Could be that he’s a sadist or a drunk. Or the boy is illegitimate, an unfavored younger son,
or even that he is of mixed blood after all. Who knows? I Expect cruelty towards us, but they
seem happy to even do it to their own,” Hakoda said bitterly.

Bato wasn’t wrong, it was disheartening to hear, and it made the prospect of there ever being
anything good after the war seem very bleak. “Whatever it was, it’s hardly surprising that
he’s ended up fighting against them.” Hakoda hadn’t mentioned the Blue Spirit part yet, but
he thought maybe he would save that until later, there was already enough to worry about.

“Yeah, poor kid.” Bato shook his head. “Keeping Sokka safe is the priority, but I suspect that
keeping Li safe will be a part of that. If he thinks his friend is in danger, Sokka will react, and
right now I’m not sure which way he’ll jump.”

He was right. There was a time, before he had left home, that Hakoda would be certain his
son would come to him with his problems, and would trust him to find solutions. That time
was long gone, and it was more likely he would deal with it by himself, and not necessarily in
a way Hakoda could predict. It was going to make protecting them very difficult. And then
there was the problem of what to do with him when they went to Ba Sing Se.

“I want to keep him with us, but I can’t,” he said, considering it carefully. “Not just because
taking him into the heart of a battle where the odds are stacked against us is the last thing I
want to do, but because he believes he has his own role to play in this fight. And maybe he
does.”

“How do you mean?”

“Do you remember the first night we got him back? We were in the tent with Shen, and Zuli
was still unconscious?”

“I didn’t think he was going to make it, to be honest.”

“No, me neither. But do you remember, Shen asked Sokka if he thought the Avatar could win
without learning fire?” Hakoda had gone over everything he could remember from his son’s
words in those early few days, trying to sort through fact from misdirection.

“Yeah, I vaguely remember the conversation. I was worrying about how we were going to
keep Sokka’s connection to the Avatar secret. Boy has always had a big mouth.”

Hakoda snorted. “Very true, although clearly that tendency has changed over the last few
years. Anyway, he said that he didn’t think it was impossible for the Avatar to learn fire, that
although he didn’t believe in destiny, ‘sometimes the universe drops a surprise opportunity
into your lap.’ He wasn’t talking generally, he was talking about Zuli, Zuko.”
Bato sat back, his eyes widening a little in realisation. “We have a firebender on our side. He
may not be a master, but it’s better than nothing.”

Hakoda nodded. “I think it’s his plan to bring him to the Avatar. It might be the only chance
we have.”

“And we are going to have to let him go.”

Hakoda’s heart clenched and seized in his chest with pure fear. “Yes, we are,” he agreed, even
though the words burned him. “But hopefully not for a while yet. They still need more time,
as much time as we can give them to regain their strength, emotional as well as physical,
and…”

Bato raised a hand, cutting him off. “Um, Hakoda?” he said.

Hakoda blinked at him for a second, and in the sudden quiet of the tent he heard what had
concerned Bato. The noise from outside the tent had turned from ‘busy camp’ to something
closer to ‘angry mob’.

“Aw, fuck,” he said, already attempting to swing his bad leg over the side of the bed and
reaching for Bato to help him rise.

Bato, bless him, didn’t waste time arguing about how Hakoda should remain in bed, and
hauled him up, giving him a second to clench his teeth on the pain. Then they hobbled for the
tent flap as quick as they could. He knew, he just knew. The boys had only been gone twenty
minutes, how had they managed to start a riot in that time?

It wasn’t quite a riot, but it looked like it could get nasty real quick. Blinking in the morning
sun, and not pausing to get their bearings, they limped for the centre of the chaos. As they got
closer, men moved aside for them and Hakoda could just about see the small things that had
come together to ensure everything went wrong.

The boys had gone to find Panuk and had located him in the Water Tribe camp. Perhaps
concerned for, or angry with Hakoda, half the Water Tribe seemed to have followed them
back into Earth territory. This would not have been a problem, except with Zuli’s impeccable
timing, it had coincided with Huang and Yao doing their post battle rounds, speaking to
people and doing a quick and dirty inventory of the damage.

Zuli and Huang had therefore bumped into each other, and the resulting interaction was being
watched by pretty much everybody who was anybody in the two camps. And after yesterday,
tempers were already frayed and tension was high.

The stand off did not seem to be going well.

“Fuckity, fuck, fuck,” Bato muttered very eloquently.

“Get me over there now,” Hakoda said between gritted teeth. Even hobbling at this speed was
painful, but Bato dutifully took a little more of his weight and increased the pace slightly.
Sokka looked relieved to see him as they approached, his face making an exaggerated
expression of pleading. Zuli didn’t take his eyes from where he was attempting to stare
Huang down. The general was not a small man, and the size difference was quite
pronounced, although it didn’t seem to bother Zuli any. He looked like he was ready and
willing to take the man on in single combat.

Panuk was just behind Sokka, looking very concerned, and Rakuq and Yao were both
watching carefully, their men crowded together behind them. The air was filled with a fierce
sense of anticipation.

“I’m not part of your army, Huang,” Zuli said, his voice even, but loaded with a certain
amount of coiled threat. Hakoda winced at both the tone and the lack of a respectful
‘General’.

Huang noticed the slight too and his eyes narrowed angrily, although his voice remained
calm. “But you are in my camp, boy, and I would suggest you keep a civil tongue.”

“My tongue is completely civil. I’m just telling you the facts of the matter. I will be going to
the village to see what has happened to the 54th.” He crossed his arms over his chest. It
looked defiant rather than defensive. “They were kind to me, they fed me and allowed me to
live with them. I owe them, and I will endeavour to repay that debt. So unless you plan to
hold me against my will, I shallbe going to the village.”

Yao was going very red in the face watching things unfold. The attitude being shown to the
general was apparently too much for him to stand, and he stepped forward. “You
disrespectful little cur. You will do as you’re told! We have fed and clothed you!”

Zuli sneered, a small curl of his lip, and deliberately turned his back on him, like he wasn’t
even worth being concerned about.

Yao did not react well, and Hakoda felt like time slowed for a moment as he watched. Yao
reached a hand out, obviously intending to grab at the boy’s shirt to yank him back. Zuli was
clearly anticipating something of the sort and moved his body smoothly to the side, reaching
through the grasping fingers with his own hand, taking hold of one digit and twisting sharply.
In between one blink and the next, Yao was snarling on his knees while Zuli stared down at
him with an irritated but otherwise calm expression. “The next man who touches me loses the
hand,” he said.

Hakoda found he was holding his breath. Even Yao’s soldiers were frozen for a second, until
Zuli released the captured fingers with narrowed eyes and a small scornful sniff. Then there
was a surge among the troops as Yao scrambled back to the safety of his men and his
lieutenant stepped forward, his sword half drawn. People moved on all sides, pressing closer
and murmuring loudly.

“Leave me and go,” Hakoda said urgently, and Bato squeezed his shoulder slightly before he
began shoving forward to try to get in position to protect the kid. Other people moved too,
trying to get closer, or away, to escape from the possible crossfire. Hakoda hobbled after Bato
as fast as his leg would allow. It was pulsing pure agony as he was jostled and he nearly
toppled as someone bumped into him.
“Dad!”

Relief swam through him and he grabbed at his son’s shirt to steady himself, then leaned on
him slightly when he felt Sokka’s arm snake around his waist. He wished he had time to
enjoy the feeling of closeness, the comfort of it after this past month of tension and years of
absence, but things were moving too fast to allow the indulgence. Bato reached Zuli just as
the lieutenant stepped forward with his weapon fully drawn. He moved to protect Zuli’s left,
and to Hakoda’s surprise, Rakuq moved up to his right, facing Yao.

“Call your man off, Yao,” Rakuq said.

Unperturbed by the chaos he had just unleashed, Zuli ignored Yao and his men and continued
to stare at the general. “I will be going to the village this afternoon,” he informed Huang
cooly.

Hakoda boggled at him a little. The absolute audacity of the kid was both impressive and
terrifying.

“Ah, the somewhat lesser known art of diplomacy,” Sokka said, somewhere between anxiety
and amusement. “The one where you demand shit, don’t wait for an answer and do what you
want anyway. The Li special.”

“You mentioned he might be one to inspire the odd blood feud,” Hakoda muttered back, still
trying to guide them forward, to get closer, although he wasn’t sure what on earth he was
going to do when he got there. “You weren’t kidding, were you?”

“Nope. Pretty certain keeping him alive is a full-time job. I’m not sure why or how I ended
up inheriting it.”

Huang looked like he might be considering joining the Fire Nation admiral in his feuding, but
if he looked upset, Yao looked apoplectic. The knees of his uniform pants were muddy.
Apparently too angry, or possibly too wary to confront Zuli directly, he turned to Rakuq, who
was still standing on the boy’s right.

“This is a surprise,” he spat, his lip curling. It felt like they were seeing his true feeling
clearly now. He had always held himself with a certain amount of superiority, like he
considered his people better than the Water Tribes. Although he had been careful to temper it
when dealing with Rakuq, who he had swayed by appealing to his bloodthirstiness when it
came to the Fire Nation. The man hated them and that hate blinded him.

Rakuq looked at him, his light blue eyes narrow. “You took our healer,” he said, his mouth
firming with displeasure as he stared down at the smaller man. “You ordered our chief to stay
among your people rather than his own and nearly got him killed.”

Oh, that was interesting. Hakoda had suspected his people were going to be furious with him
for the choices he had made and the fact he had not been with them during the battle. He had
been concerned they might even vote him out of his position as chief, but instead they were
apparently blaming Huang. He was not one hundred percent sure that was warranted, he had
made his own decisions, even the bad ones. But to be perfectly honest, he was not going to
dispute it. He needed his people’s support, he was going to need them doubly when it came to
keeping Zuli safe, especially after this.

There was a murmur of assent from the surrounding warriors. Hakoda could feel his heart
beating hard against his ribs as he watched. Sokka tugged him gently and they pushed
through the surrounding men and up to Bato’s side. He glanced at them, and moved slightly
so Sokka could squeeze past him, back to his friend. Hakoda dithered a moment, should he
try standing on his own, or lean on Bato which might impede his movement in a fight? Bato
solved the internal debate by reaching a steadying hand out to him, and pulling him in.

Huang’s eyes were hard and calculating as he watched the Water Tribes shift into a vague
formation behind Hakoda and Zuli. Huang at least had realised that this was actually a
serious situation for him and his people. This wasn’t about a rude brat making demands, not
anymore.

Not everyone seemed to have received that memo. “I was under the impression you would
have been perfectly content to stick a knife in the boy’s ribs rather than risk one of his kind in
the camp,” Yao said to Rakuq, earning him a flash of irritation from Huang.

Rakuq spat on the floor. “It’s true I didn’t want the little half-breed anywhere near us, and if
he had dropped dead, with or without help, I would have considered it a good day.”

Which was a little harsh. Hakoda snuck a look at Zuli, but he was still glaring at Yao, his
hands flexing slightly, like he was considering strangling him.

“But...” Rakuq said, stepping forward and angling himself slightly in front of the boy,
protective, almost. “Yesterday I saw him fight. I saw him defend our healer. I have heard how
he defended our chief’s son, who has already suffered enough at the hands of the Fire Nation.
Yesterday, he spent his day helping the wounded, yours and ours. He has proved his loyalty.”

Zuli looked shocked to his core, his eyes comically wide. He clearly had not expected anyone
other than Sokka, and perhaps Hakoda, to be fighting his corner. He opened his mouth and
Sokka lay a hand on his arm.

“Don’t ruin it, buddy.”

His mouth snapped shut.

“That is true,” Huang began placatingly.

“I’m not finished. This is a level of loyalty that I can respect. What I can’t respect is that you
have abandoned your own people. This half...” he seemed to rethink his words, which was
probably wise. “Li wants to rescue some of your men, it does him great credit. Why don’t
you wish to do the same?”

There were some murmurings from both sides, The Water Tribes in agreement, the Earth
troops perhaps in disbelief. The way the army worked was very different between the two
sets of allies. In the Earth Kingdom, if you didn’t like what your commander was doing, you
might respectfully question them if you had enough rank behind you, but in the end, you
were expected to shut up and obey. In the Water Tribes, it was acceptable to openly challenge
something you disagreed with, assuming you thought it would be legitimate. If it was petty or
self serving, then you would face repercussions and lose respect. Rakuq’s outspokenness was
as shocking as Zuli’s to the surrounding men—but not to Huang, who was now clearly
planning to attempt to get them back on side, rather than fight them.

Rakuq shifted slightly, his gaze flat and angry. “I don’t like Captain Shen, I have never
hidden this, but he was loyal, and abandoning him reflects very poorly on you.”

“You mistake my intentions, Chief Rakuq,” Huang said smoothly. “I have every intention to
find any survivors from the 54th and to give funeral rights to those who may have fallen. My
primary concern is the safety of the boy. I do not think it is wise for him to be within reach of
the men that mean him harm. It could very easily be a trap for us.”

“Are you going to try to stop me?” Zuli demanded, “Because if you go without me, I will
follow. Unless you were planning to hold me prisoner?”

“Your safety...”

“Is my concern.”

Hakoda thought now might be a good time for him to step in, before Zuli challenged the man
to a duel. “General Huang,” he began, politely. “I believe you are correct about the danger to
Li, and I am sure if you send your best men along with us to search for the missing company,
it will mitigate the risk considerably.”

Huang’s eyes were watchful. Hakoda may be allowing him the role of gracious helper and
letting him save face after Rakuq’s words, but everyone knew he had just been out
manoeuvred. Hakoda schooled his own face to one of polite concern. “So it might be best if
we take a considerable consignment of men, those that you will send, and any of my warriors
who wish to come with us. We are all exhausted, and as you can see some of us, myself
included, are injured. But any time we waste lessens the chance we have of finding survivors,
don’t you agree?”

“Indeed, chief Hakoda.” Huang raised his voice slightly, “The 54th made a brave sacrifice
trying to free the villagers from the Fire Nation’s control, and we will do all we can for both
the survivors and any civilians we can find alive.” His own people were nodding, pleased by
his words. “And whatever the outcome of our mission, we will take the fight to them. We will
get revenge for our losses, and for the Earth Kingdom people killed in the village.” A few
people cheered, and the mood felt lighter, but Hakoda could see a lot of mixed expressions in
the two groups. Anger from Yao and his men, mistrust and contempt from a lot of the Water
Tribes. They were a lot less willing to accept Huang’s words than his own people were.

“See that?” Sokka whispered to Zuli, “That’s how you do diplomacy.”

“It’s just lies and bullshit!” Zuli said with a snarl. At least his voice was at a relatively low
volume.
Sokka shrugged, sending his friend an almost cheerful smile. “That’s what I said, diplomacy.
Where you wrap the shit up in roses and hope no one notices.”

“I hate politics.”

“Well, that’s…” Zuli cut Sokka off by slapping a hand over his mouth and glaring at him.

“Whatever you were about to say, whichever way you were going to go with it, don’t. I’m
going to tend my swords, so we’re ready. I didn’t have time yesterday.” He turned his head
slightly so he could look Hakoda in the eye. “Chief Hakoda, thank you for your support. Go
back to bed before you fall down.” Finished with his speech, he turned and stalked back
towards the tents. While Hakoda stared after him, mouth hanging open.

He snapped it shut again as Bato snorted loudly beside him. “Well, no matter what else, that
kid sure has some stones on him,” he said, giving Hakoda’s hip a pat where he was holding
him upright with an arm around his waist.

Sokka barked a laugh. “Oh, Li has a pair of cast iron balls, trust me. His brain is a lump of
misshapen lead, but the calibre of his balls is not in any question.”

Bato snorted again, and Hakoda poked him. “Be that as it may, the fact this has turned out
mostly okay is pure luck. This could have been very messy. Especially without the surprise
support from Rakuq. I will have to go and speak to the man.” He sighed, already not looking
forward to it, but he did owe him.

“I’ll leave that to you, then,” Sokka said with a grin.

“Wait a moment, please,” Hakoda told him. “Bato, perhaps if you start things off with Rakuq,
I will join you shortly. Sokka, I would like to speak to you in private first.”

Sokka’s eyes narrowed slightly and his body shifted, cautious and careful. “Okay sure. You
want to head back to the tent?”

“No, I think it best Li doesn’t join in this conversation. He’s under enough stress, any more
might send him over the edge.”

Sokka swallowed. “Sure.” He made a wide gesture towards the more deserted area of camp
where the 54th’s tents still stood. “Hop this way, dad.”

Hakoda squeezed Sokka’s shoulder as they walked, very aware of the tension in his thin
frame. He knew this was going to be a discussion he didn’t want to have. Hakoda kind of
didn’t want to have it either. He was tired, hurting, and angry about a lot of things. It wasn’t
ideal. But they needed to get some stuff out in the open before they went to the village, and
before they discovered whether there were any survivors. He was going to have to plan for
the eventuality that Zuli might explode emotionally or literally, which could potentially be
catastrophic.

Having reached a well-secluded area, Hakoda sat awkwardly on a log still in front of the
ashes of a cook fire. The pot had been overturned in the battle, but otherwise it looked almost
undisturbed. Sokka sat beside him, a little awkward and tense.

He decided not to beat around the bush too much. “You haven’t been truthful with me,” he
said, keeping his voice calm.

Sokka’s face ran through a number of expressions; distress, guilt, and something very wary.
“I’ve not lied to you,” he said after a moment.

Hakoda’s mouth pinched, still more prevaricating. He could feel the hurt and anger
simmering under his skin. “Let me rephrase that. You have not been honest with me. I have
realised something over the past couple of days, words that are true can still be used to tell a
lie.”

Sokka looked frightened. He was fighting to keep it off his face, but was mostly
unsuccessful. Hakoda hated to see that expression on him but at the same time he was still
upset that Sokka hadn’t trusted him, he was hurt that he’d played him, the same way he had
done to Shen and Huang. Hakoda gazed at him steadily. “Answer me this then, can Li
firebend?”

Sokka’s eyes widened, until they seemed to take up half his face, then they darted to the side,
like he was checking the quickest route to run. Hakoda could see the battle between the desire
to tell the truth, and the need to protect his friend, the awful indecision. It hurt horribly to
watch and was completely unfair. Guilt started sliding through the cracks in the anger.
Feeling upset was natural, but he didn’t have to punish his son for his loyalty, however
complicated it was. “Forget I asked that, Sokka. You don’t need to say anything, just listen. I
know he can, Panuk and Bato do too.”

Sokka was not looking any less like he wanted to run, and Hakoda sighed. “If we are going to
protect him, it is imperative that no one else finds out. The two of you have done a very good
job at hiding it so far, but Zuli’s temper could prove a problem. If he loses control, it could be
a disaster.” In more ways than one. He had accepted Zuli’s proximity to Sokka, and the risk it
brought, but it still scared the crap out of him.

Sokka was still staring at him with huge eyes, but the emotion in them was different, hopeful.
“You know? And you’ll help him anyway?”

“Yes, Sokka. I wish you had been honest with me from the start.” He paused, considering.
“Although, perhaps it worked out for the best.” He would like to think he would have
responded in the same way if this revelation had come at an earlier stage of the boys’ stay,
but would he before getting to know the kid? Before building up trust? He wasn’t actually
sure.

Sokka’s eyes filled with tears, and his jaw worked, like he was trying to speak but the
emotion was just too much for him. Hakoda reached for him, and Sokka fell against him, not
unlike the hug they had shared that first night. There was something desperate and frightened
in it. But Hakoda took a moment to appreciate the contact, even as he felt the guilt
constricting his throat. “I will protect the two of you with everything I have, Sokka. But Zuli
is going to be a risk, and at risk, as long as he is here.”
“Do you want us to leave?”

“No! I want you both to stay, for now at least, while we figure out our next move. First, we
need to go to the village and get through the fallout from that. It is likely to be a flashpoint
for Zuli if Shen has been killed.”

“I know. It’s going to be bad. I almost don’t want to know, don’t want him to know for sure.”

“It’s better that he does, better for him emotionally in the long run. But if the news is not
good, we have to be ready to control any...outbursts.”

Sokka pushed back from him and nodded. Hakoda missed the feel of him in his arms already,
but he was almost grown, capable of making his own choices. Hakoda sighed. He wasn’t sure
if he should mention Shen’s parting words to him at this point, the fact he had told him to get
Zuli out of Huang’s reach. Perhaps it could wait until they had dealt with the upcoming
situation. “Then after we return, we should go back to the boats, get out of the Earth
Kingdom camp for a while. If you want to, that is?”

Sokka looked at him, his cheeks were a little damp, but he had that assessing look back.
“Yeah, if you think it’s sensible, then I think we should do that,” he said at last.

Hakoda felt something unclench in him. At least he was only going to have to fight Huang
and not the boys, too. “Okay, let’s get geared up and ready to go.”

“Are you sure you should?” Sokka asked, eyeing his bandaged leg. “Bato could lead.”

“I’m sure I can borrow one of the big stinky birds, don’t need my legs if I’m on one of them.”

“Okay, if you’re sure.” Sokka looked a little relieved.

Hakoda rose, keeping the wince off his face. Travelling on the bird would be fine. The issue
would come if there was any fighting, he had no experience in mounted battle. But he would
cross that bridge if they came to it.

Sokka offered his shoulder as support as they moved back towards his tent. “Dad,” he paused
and swallowed. “Thank you, from both of us. Even though Li might not get a chance to say it
to your face. I think it will mean a lot to him anyway.”

Hakoda gave him a little squeeze. He just hoped this didn’t end in disaster.

…………...

Sokka’s head was spinning and his stomach felt squirmy and heavy with trepidation as they
rode towards the village. So much had happened in the past few days, he hadn’t even begun
to sort through it.
He and Zuko fighting, the camp being attacked, the horrifying fear upon realising his father
was missing when they had returned after killing Chen, which was something else he had not
even started processing. Then there had been the mix of relief and dread when Fu and Bato
had found his dad, weak and hardly conscious from pain and blood loss. Then this morning’s
chaotic meeting with Huang which could have ended very nasty, but hadn’t.

Somehow Zuko had gotten what he wanted by the force of his stubborn will alone. Maybe his
tactic of just hitting stuff head on until it gave up did actually work sometimes. And finally,
the hair-raising discussion with his dad. How had he known? Sokka hadn’t mentioned it to
Zuko yet. Although his father’s trust and offer of help was something so, so good, Zuko
might not see it that way if it was just dropped in his lap, and Sokka was slightly concerned
he might just bolt. He would think about it after today’s dramas were over and speak to him
about it carefully. Very carefully.

He had allowed Zuko to take the front seat on Dumpling for this ride, partly to give him the
illusion of being in charge, which seemed to calm him down a little, and partly because
Sokka’s own anxiety was so high he felt like he might puke at any moment. As they rode, he
rested his cheek against Zuko’s firm back, finding some comfort in the warm contact,
although he could feel the tension in his friend’s muscles. It felt coiled and ready to explode.
Explode or shatter, Sokka wasn’t actually sure which way it would go if the news was bad.
And the news was going to be bad—the time that had passed was too great for it to be
anything else.

Before the boat, he had known Zuko as an angry person. He hadn’t cared why he was angry,
just that he wanted him to go rage somewhere else. What he had not expected was just how
emotional he was, the anger was just his way of coping with feelings he struggled to process.
To be fair, Sokka had not considered himself to be a particularly emotional person either, not
until after the boat, when his feelings started to go haywire and spin out of control. Most
notably his own anger, but like Zuko, it was like everything funnelled into it; the shame, the
fear, the horrible crushing sadness and the bitterness at the loss of self he felt.

The other thing he had not expected, which was actually a little mind blowing, was any kind
of possibility that Zuko would get attached to some random Earth Kingdom army guy, the
whole unit even. But Shen and his men had shown him acceptance and kindness, and
apparently that was all it took. That was actually pretty sad when he thought about it, and
Sokka squeezed a little with the arm around Zuko’s waist.

“You okay?” Zuko asked, the sound of his voice rumbling through the contact with his back.

“Yeah. You?”

“Yeah.”

He didn’t sound particularly okay. There was tension thrumming there too. Sokka wanted this
day to be over, one way or another. Whatever came after would be better than the fearful
anticipation.

They could smell the village before they could see it. Burning, ash and death, with an
undercurrent of charred meat that turned Sokka’s stomach. They were made to stay back, as
scouts went ahead to make sure it was safe to enter. Waiting was tense and hard. It wasn’t just
them that felt it. Sokka glanced at his dad. He looked pale and grim, partly from the pain and
he thought partly from the smell, that had to be bringing back memories. It haunted the edge
of Sokka’s nightmares too, but he had pushed it aside growing up, trying to focus on the now
rather than the past. He didn’t think he had room in his head right now for buried trauma, and
he kept his thoughts focused on other things.

Sokka let out a startled squawk as Dumpling lurched forward, her awkward gait almost
sending him tumbling. “What’s going on?” he demanded.

“Scouts are back.”

“Yeah, but what are you doing?” Sokka hissed at Zuko, clinging to his shirt as the big hen
attempted to bite one of the soldier’s mounts so she could bully her way forward. No wonder
Zuko got on with her so well, they had personalities that were very well aligned.

“Trying to hear what they say, we’re too far back.”

“Just wait, will you!” Sokka insisted, tugging on the shirt in his hands in frustration.

Zuko didn’t, of course, and Dumpling savaged her way through the other ostrich horses until
they got close enough to see what was going on.

The scout looked solemn, his mouth pulled into a sharp line. He shook his head. And Sokka
could feel the muscles in Zuko’s back tense harder. “No sign of the Fire Nation, or at least not
of any living soldiers. No sign of survivors either.”

“And the dead?” Yao asked. It had been something of a surprise he had decided to come, but
then, he hated Shen, so perhaps he was finding the situation enjoyable. If he was, he was
keeping it off his face, his expression was stern and hard. Probably a good thing, if he looked
to have been gloating, Sokka suspected Zuko might actually take him out.

“Plenty of dead,” the scout said. “They’ve burned the villagers. Left our soldiers where they
lay. The wounded have been finished with a killing blow or a slit throat.”

Sokka’s dad pushed through the crowd of men too, over taking Dumpling and narrowly
missing being gored by her evil beak as she objected to being jostled. “Is it safe to enter?” he
asked.

Yao turned slightly on his own mount, to look first at Hakoda, then at Sokka and Zuko. His
eyes narrowed a little in spite.

The scout nodded. “Yes. There were traps, from the look of some of the dead, but I believe
they have been removed. The admiral and his men have gone.”

“The admiral wasn’t here to begin with,” Zuko said.

Yao turned fully in his saddle. “And you know this how?”
Zuko shrugged, while sitting straight and regal, looking down his nose at the man. “We
fought one of his men yesterday. He said the admiral was gone, and it was his second in
command, Lieutenant Ro, who had planned the action.”

Sokka felt himself flinch at the mention of the man’s name. The hate and fear it inspired was
truly shocking.

“He might have been lying,” Yao sneered.

“He wasn’t. He had no reason to.”

Yao looked like he was going to ask more questions, but Hakoda cut him off. “We can
discuss this later. If it’s safe to enter, let us do so.”

“Indeed.” Yao said. “As you and Li are so keen to discover the survivors and to ensure the
dead are well cared for, you can make the tally and your men can collect the bodies for burial.
My Company will investigate what happened to the villagers.”

Hakoda’s mouth drew into a hard line, but he nodded. “Very well. Lead the way.”

Entering the village was horrible. The smell of burned flesh was worse, and accompanied by
the stink of the recently dead. It was a scent that made Sokka’s head swim and bile rise into
his throat. He wished he wasn’t here. He wished it was days ago, and not now. He wished it
was a year ago, and he and Katara were debating if they should go ice fishing this early in the
season.

The village was unrecognisable as the place they had visited only a few days ago. The tables
and stalls that had been covered with food and brightly coloured wares were nothing but
kindling, and the sturdy homes were burnt out shells. There were pyres still smouldering at
each end of the square where Sokka and Zuko had done their shopping and there were bodies
strewn across the open space.

Hakoda turned to look at them, face grim. “You boys wait here.”

“No,” Zuko said, his voice sounded harsh, but Sokka could feel the fear and anxiety radiating
through him where their bodies touched. “I’m not sitting on the sidelines. This happened
because of me. The men that did this were looking for me. I will play my part in laying the
dead to rest.”

Hakoda’s face softened. He looked sad and respectful. “Very well, the choice is yours.
Although I need you to know this is not your fault. Not at all. The men who did this are
responsible. The men that keep this war running whatever the cost are, not you. If you wish
to help, we have cloth for the bodies.” He gestured towards where men were unloading one
of the carts they had brought. “Bring the fallen here, so we can take account of who is
missing before we bury them.”

Zuko nodded stiffly and Sokka once again wished he was anywhere else. Zuko slid off
Dumpling, and spent a moment with his hands pressed against her feathery flank, perhaps
drawing a little strength from her solid presence. Dumpling for her part, ruthlessly raided his
pockets for treats, apparently unconcerned with the stink of death all around them. Maybe she
was used to it. A strange and upsetting thought.

“Sokka, you don’t have to do this. There’s no shame in sitting it out,” his dad said.

Sokka wished he could bring himself to do that, but he couldn’t leave Zuko to do this task
alone, so he shook his head.

His dad nodded. He looked like he was deeply regretting allowing them both to come. Not
that anything bar a natural disaster could have stopped Zuko. But done was done. “The
choice is yours,” Hakoda said. He bent and handed them both some large strips of fabric.
“Cover your nose and mouth and make sure you clean your hands after.”

Good practical advice. It helped. “Thanks, dad.”

They wrapped the cloth around their faces—it only helped with the smell a little, but even
that was better than nothing. Without speaking, Zuko squared his shoulders and strode
purposefully towards the first of the scattered corpses. As if that was a signal, the other Water
Tribe men fanned out to do their part, too.

Sokka took a moment to grab one of the long shrouds and then followed.

It was a horrible task. Made worse by the fact he knew these people, some of them only their
faces, not their names, but even so, it was a deeply upsetting process on many levels.

Zuko was silent and stiff, his eyes blazing with fury as they carefully carried the men to the
centre of the village square. Each time they set down their burden, Zuko would quickly check
the other dead that had been moved there. The line of bodies was growing and Sokka took a
moment to run his own eyes over them and take a breather. Carrying grown men, even
between the two of them, was hard work and he was sweating and panting.

Zuko was of course like one of the mechanist’s machines; relentless and unyielding. Sokka
watched him stalk towards the next corpse, the long cloth clutched in one clenched fist, the
ends of it dragging in the dirt. He headed towards the gap between what was left of two
houses. When he reached his destination, he stopped to look down at the body on the ground
there and his posture shifted, becoming stiff and curled inward slightly. Sokka’s heart sped
up, and the sick feeling that had been bubbling since they arrived within sight of this place
rose up his gullet. This was going to be a bad one. This was someone they knew well. He
picked up his pace, steeling himself. If it was Shen, he was going to have to keep a level head
to make sure Zuko didn’t react in a way that would be regrettable.

It wasn’t Shen. It was Yuxuan, his honey coloured eyes glazed with death and staring at the
sky. It was clear he had died by violence, although not right away. From the wound to his
throat, it looked like he had been one of the injured who had been dispatched after the fight.
Sokka’s chest tightened, as he remembered being in the tavern only a street away, while
Yuxuan laughed at him for blushing over his silly scrolls. That had been the day before
yesterday.
Zuko was breathing hard with anger and hurt and his clenched fists were shaking. He
dropped to a crouch and reached out to shut Yuxuan’s eyes. His own closed at the same time
and his lips moved, perhaps saying a prayer for him.

Sokka was not entirely sure how he felt about that. There was something…not quite right
about the first prayer after death being a Fire Nation one, when Yuxuan had been Earth in all
the ways that mattered. He had hated the Fire Nation, hated that part of himself, too. But on
the other hand, Sokka believed the dead were dead and prayers were for the living. If it
helped process his distress, then so be it.

He had the strong urge to push away his own feelings of sorrow at the loss of his friend and
comfort Zuko, but there was another part of him, a bitter, angry part that was watching his
struggle with this. With the death of someone he knew, a young person, only a few years
older than him, someone that shared his heritage, and thinking look what your people have
done, look at what they do.

He wanted Zuko to see the reality of it, really see it. Sokka knew he was going to
compartmentalise it, blame Ro or Zhao—just more bad apples. But despite being
unbelievably dense at times and doing stupid things at least five times a day, Zuko was not
actually a moron. There had to be a part of him that was comprehending the pointlessness
and the injustice of this slaughter and death. Not just Yuxuan, who had died fighting, but the
people in the village. The nice old woman who had seen his scarred face and given him a free
egg tart, the bookseller, who had listened to them and found just what they were looking for.
And the man who had insulted Yuxuan, he presumably never knew the boy he had called an
ashmaker had died trying to defend his village; the man had instead died thinking he had
been right, that everyone with Fire Nation blood was born evil and deserved his hate and
scorn.

The unfairness of it all was making Sokka’s own eyes sting, but they weren’t going to fix
anything standing here staring. He laid out the cloth, a few feet longer than the average man
was tall. “Zuko?” he said his name quietly. They were alone, but he was still cautious. “Help
me lift him.”

Zuko swallowed a few times before nodding. They carried the body as carefully as they
could, and set him down gently when they reached the town centre, covering all but his face,
like the others.

Even with the shroud hiding the injuries every time Sokka blinked, he could see the gaping
wound below his chin. A swift cut with a sword.

He shook himself free of the image again, but it returned the next time his eyes flickered
closed.

It looked a lot like the killing blow he had given Chen.

Once the dead had all been collected, Yao, Hakoda and some of the other men started making
plans for burial, presumably using earthbenders. There was no way they could take that many
dead back to the camp, it was going to have to be done here in the village.

Zuko was still looking a little haunted, his eyes distant. Half the 54th were missing. There
was no sign of Shen, or Haoyu or Guo. Had they been taken? And if so, why? Where?

Sokka wasn’t sure he had the mental energy left to figure it out, let alone try to think about
what they should do about it. Zuko clearly didn’t feel the same though, and still silent, he
pushed himself to his feet, heading for one of the smouldering pyres. Unsure what else to do,
Sokka followed. The larger of the two smoking mounds seemed to have been used to burn the
bodies of the villagers, hiding the evidence of the murder of innocent men, women and
children. When you knew what it was, the smell was sickening and Sokka gagged as he got
closer to it, the cloth over his face was not nearly enough to mask the scent.

Zuko looked through the ashes and remains carefully. The thought of getting any nearer
turned Sokka’s stomach. He thought perhaps Zuko was double checking there was no
evidence of the soldiers being burned there, just in case. But Sokka knew there wouldn’t be.
The Earth Kingdom men who had been killed had been deliberately left where they lay,
discarded like junk, out in the open so they would be seen when people came looking.
Definitely the sort of thing Ro would do. He was shocked it hadn’t been worse. Perhaps he
had been distracted by the thought of having new prisoners to play with. That thought made
Sokka feel sick again, and a rush of horrifying sense memory flooded through him, the feel of
his skin burning, the smell of his own flesh cooking. He retched, stomach clenching.

“Sokka, are you okay?”

He nodded as he felt Zuko’s hot hand on his back. His touch wasn’t hesitant, like it had been
on the boat the first few times he tried to give comfort, it was warm and confident. Like he
knew Sokka’s body, wasn’t afraid of overstepping or doing something wrong.

“I’m going to check the other pyre. You go back to your dad, alright?”

Sokka shook his head, straightening. “No, I’m okay. Let’s go. Let’s be sure.”

Zuko nodded. He had a smudge of ash on his cheek. That had been a person once, that sooty
smear. Sokka closed his eyes. Just get through the next hour, then perhaps they could go back
to the camp and wash the day off their skin. He wished he could rinse it right out of his mind
and memory.

The second pyre was smaller and still contained a few objects, what looked like buttons and
bits of armour. In front of it, there were a couple of small sticks. Zuko knelt and touched one
as he passed. Once again swallowing bile, Sokka investigated them. Incense. Someone had
taken the time to light incense in front of the pile of burning corpses. This must have been the
Fire Nation dead. At least that proved there had been a fight, not just a slaughter. It didn’t
make Sokka feel any better about it though.

Zuko offered them no reverence. He drew his sword and poked at the ashes, studying the
remains carefully. Sokka saw him pocket something, but he didn’t challenge him on it. There
would be time for that later, he was far to wound up and volatile to risk it right now. Instead,
he waited for Zuko to finish, and they both headed back to the town centre to watch the
burial.

Sokka couldn’t wait to leave this place.

The arrival back at camp hadn’t brought any further revelations. Huang, Sokka’s dad and the
other leaders had headed to the General’s tent to discuss what was to be done about the fact
that the Fire Nation had clearly taken some men of the 54th. Sokka and Zuko had not been
invited.

There was nothing to be done but wait for them to come to a decision. And as far as Sokka
was concerned, he could wait on that, as long as he got a bath. There was no way they were
going to head to the river for a wash knowing Ro’s men could still be out there, so instead he
managed to sweet talk Bato into helping him with a tub—not forgetting the buckets of water
that Zuko would fastidiously insist on.

Bato’s face was drawn with exhaustion and stress, but he gave Sokka a small smile. “I didn’t
bother heating it,” he muttered as he helped Sokka heave it to their tent, back in the deserted
area the 54th had camped. Sokka wasn’t sure how he felt about people knowing Zuko could
firebend, but the fact Bato had a rueful half smile on his face was…warming. It was such a
relief to know he had their support after the last few horrible days.

Zuko was unusually and worryingly quiet during bathing. He was distant, distracted.
Something was bubbling away in his thick head and when it finally exploded its way out, it
was going to be a clusterfuck, Sokka just knew it. All efforts to draw Zuko out of his funk
were mostly ignored. He did let Sokka wash his hair, but he was quiet and tense under his
hands, not like usual when he melted into a puddle at the firm touch of Sokka’s fingers. It
was always sweet and a little sad to see how surprised he was every time, like he didn’t
realise something so simple could be so relaxing and pleasurable.

“Are you okay?” he asked eventually, when they were dressed and waiting for Sokka’s dad to
come back with news. The smell felt like it was still lingering, even though they had changed
clothes and scrubbed it off with enough vigour to make Sokka’s skin reddened and sore.
Every time he shut his eyes, he saw the slash in Yuxuan’s throat. He didn’t think he was
going to get rid of that image for a long time to come.

Zuko didn’t answer, just sat on the floor and stared at his knees.

By the time his dad got back, Sokka was going out of his mind. He was exhausted, scared,
and emotionally drained. He could feel his emotions tugging at him like a riptide again,
threatening to drag him under. It felt like half of him wanted to cry and the rest wanted to lash
out, and none of it was fully within his control.
“Sokka, how are you holding up?” his dad asked, as he made his way into the tent with
Bato’s help. He lowered himself to sit on the mat with a wince. Unlike them, the two men
had not had a chance to bathe, and they brought with them the nauseating smell of death and
smoke. Sokka blinked away another wave of horror. He was getting sick of the constant
bombardment of emotion.

“I’m alright,” he said, not very convincingly.

“Li, you doing okay?”

“Fine.” Zuko was even less convincing.

“I wish the two of you had not been witness to that,” Hakoda said, rubbing a hand over his
slightly ash smeared face.

“I needed to go,” Zuko said.

Sokka just nodded. Actually, he also kind of wished he had not been witness to that. He
didn’t know if he had any room inside him for any more trauma. His head felt quite full
enough already.

Hakoda sighed. He didn’t look like a man who was keen to get the conversation started.

Zuko raised his eyes, his expression was flat. “They aren’t going to look for the prisoners, are
they?” It wasn’t really a question.

“No, no, they are not. I’m sorry, Li.”

Zuko shrugged a shoulder. “Don’t apologise to me. It’s not me that will die because of that
decision.”

Hakoda made a face, like he wished he could make things better, but he knew he could not.
“It’s still a hard thing to accept.”

Zuko nodded. “It is. But I understand it, I was expecting it. You have a mission, a plan. You
can’t give it up to rescue a bunch of soldiers, even though they are your friends. That’s not
how war works. It’s not how leadership and responsibility works.” He shrugged one shoulder
again, something a little desolate in the gesture. “I don’t blame you for the decision, Chief
Hakoda. Not at all. Living with your choices can be hard, but that doesn’t mean they are
wrong.”

Sokka thought he was also talking about how his dad had chosen not to attempt their rescue.
And from the look on his face, his dad thought the same thing.

“Nonetheless, I’m still sorry,” Hakoda said.

Zuko nodded again. “Yeah, me too.”

Sokka could see the lines of stress in his dad’s face, the tension in Bato’s body that got worse
when he looked at Zuko. “There’s more, isn’t there?” he asked, already feeling the trepidation
rising.

Hakoda winced again and drew in a deep breath. “General Huang is concerned about
proceeding forward with the admiral’s men on our tail. We have already lost a significant
number of soldiers to them. We can’t risk being attacked from the rear while we attempt to
defend the city, and we also can’t risk being picked off while we march, and leaving our force
so depleted we can’t achieve our goal when we get there.”

Zuko nodded, mouth a grim line. “Only two ways to do that. Either I leave and they follow,
or Huang uses me to draw them into a trap.”

Sokka did sometimes forget that Zuko was both smart and had been basically raised in the
military for the last few years. His emotions frequently impeded his thinking, but when he
did actually use his brain, it was pretty sharp. Right now, Sokka kind of wished it wasn’t.

Hakoda didn’t lower his gaze, but his face pinched tightly. “Yes, those are the options. I’m
sure you can guess the one they are leaning towards.”

Zuko snarled a little, his eyes back on his knees. “I’m not an idiot. I know that’s what they
want.”

Sokka had guessed that was the case too, but he didn’t like hearing it, it made the threat a real
and imminent one, rather than something in the future.

“I’m not going to let that happen, Li,” Hakoda said in his best soft dad voice. It made Sokka
ache inside.

“Nor was Shen,” Zuko said, sharp and succinct. There was a whole argument in that one
sentence, and he raised his one eyebrow to drive it home. And look what happened to him.
“Listen. Thank you for the support, especially today. It was more than I expected and
probably more than I deserve. I will think about what is the best thing to do.”

“We need to move onto the boats,” Hakoda said. “That will give us a little more breathing
room.”

Zuko didn’t look too enthused by the prospect. Sokka wasn’t either, to be honest. He’d had
enough of boats.

“I will think about that as an option. But now I just want to sleep.”

Hakoda nodded. “You boys okay here? To be honest, I would feel a lot better if you moved a
little closer to where we are set up. You’re exposed here.”

“Tomorrow,” Zuko said, firmly. Sokka nodded in agreement. He didn’t know what the next
few hours would bring, but with the amount of stress and emotion floating around between
the two of them, he suspected being far enough away not to be overheard would be a good
thing.

After his dad and Bato had reluctantly left, Sokka remained sitting on the mat, trying to sort
through his feelings. He felt rubbed raw by the day, by everything.
Zuko looked a mess too, pale and drawn. The skin under his right eye was dark and red
rimmed, and the feeling of tension coming off him was palpable. “I’ve had enough of this
shit and of Huang and his people,” he burst out suddenly. “Move onto the boats? And then
what? It’s not going to solve the problem, it’s just going to kick off a whole bunch of new
ones.”

“Yeah, but at least we’ll be safer there. I don’t trust Huang, he’ll try to force you to do what
he wants. He might offer a deal.” Oh fuck, Sokka could see it, the way Huang’s plan must be
developing. Zuko’s insistence on trying to find the 54th made it clear that he had both loyalty
and affection for them. It made him very vulnerable. Sokka shivered. “He might offer an
exchange of prisoners. But you already know that.” Sokka paused and looked at him. Zuko
looked back, his breathing getting a little erratic. “Please tell me you’re not going to be that
stupid?” Sokka asked hopefully.

Zuko’s lips pulled back from his teeth in a snarl that put Sokka in mind of a cornered,
desperate dog. “I’m not going to be that stupid,” Zuko’s voice didn’t raise in volume, but the
intensity of it felt like it was sucking all the air out of the tent. It was like suddenly all the
shock, anxiety and emotion flared, a spark hitting dry tinder, and the anger broke through
Zuko’s daze and rose up like a wildfire. Zuko was on his feet and glaring down at Sokka,
eyes blazing. “I’m not going to be that stupid, not because it’s not the right thing to do, it is,
but because I’m a fucking coward.”

Sokka shook his head, a little shocked by all the sudden aggression and emotion, as well as
his words. “That’s the last thing you are, Zuko.”

“I am. I would rather die than let them take me again. I won’t let it happen. I just can’t.” He
was breathing hard, and his hands were visibly shaking. “There has to be another way.”

“Yeah, we will think of one, buddy, okay? We’ll come up with a plan.”

Zuko shot him a scornful look. “You don’t have to. You’ve found your place here.”

Sokka could feel the energy in the room shifting again. Something ugly and desperate. “My
place isn't here,” he said carefully. “My place is with my sister and Aang.”

Zuko looked down at him, mouth tight and angry, but behind that was fear and hurt and grief.
“You’re not going to go fight for Ba Sing Se like a good little rebel?”

“No. I thought I wanted to fight beside my dad, but I don’t think we are going to win through
battle. Not like that.”

Zuko shook his head and stalked in a tight circle. The tent was barely big enough for him to
make three paces before he had to turn. “I can’t bear this shit. This isn’t what my life is
supposed to be! I just want to go home!” He was shimmering slightly, like there was heat
coming off him in waves. Sokka could feel the temperature in the tent rising.

“I know, but it’s just not possible.” Challenging him in this state probably wasn’t a good idea,
but Sokka’s mouth didn’t always listen to his brain.
“You don’t know that! I could be... I could still… there has to be a way. I can’t give up,
Sokka, don’t you understand that? How can I give up!”

There was far too much anger in Zuko after today, he wanted to lash out—and unlike the
previous fight they’d had, if Sokka responded aggressively, then Zuko would go for him. But
Sokka wasn’t angry like he had been before, he was tired, so fucking tired. And although he
had been free with his fists last time, that wasn’t really where his true fighting skills lay.

No, that was with words.

He grounded himself, remembering Yuxuan, the pyre that had contained the burnt bodies of
people who had died pointlessly because they had crossed paths with them, and he steeled
himself to be cruel and blunt. It might not be the right time for Zuko to hear it, but it was the
right time for Sokka to say it. Today had pushed him to his limit.

“Go home, Zuko? How are you going to manage that? Capture the Avatar?” He shook his
head. “Please, for once in your life, think.”

“If I brought him to my father, he might still forgive me.”

Sokka resisted, pulling his own hair in frustration. He had to remember that Zuko had just
been through another traumatic experience, and that was no doubt pushing him as close to the
edge as it was Sokka. “Two things. They are going to be harsh and you won’t want to hear
them, but I’m going to tell you anyway,” he said, keeping his voice as level as he could.
“Number one. The ink was dry on your death warrant before your dad even finished reading
Zhao’s letter. He gave the okay for his own son to be executed without a trial. That doesn’t
strike me as a man who is particularly forgiving.”

Zuko opened his mouth, but Sokka cut him off. “I’m not done. Number two, which heavily
relates to number one: you committed treason! Yes, I know you never meant to let Aang go
free. But your actual intentions don’t matter. You did release him, and he escaped. That’s high
treason! Even for the Fire Lord, it’s a bit hard to forgive. People will judge him for it.”

Zuko didn’t interrupt him, but his face was screwing up with an expression that was part
anger and part misery. Sokka did not gentle his voice. “Even if you brought the Avatar back
to him in chains, you still committed the act itself. You would be lucky if you didn’t end up
with your head on the chopping block. But even if you don’t, it will always be there. And one
accidental step out of line and you’ll be killed. He won’t even have to dress it up as anything
other than what it is.”

“I’ll try harder this time, do better. I won’t mess up.”

Spirits, he sounded like a hurt little kid promising nonsense to get out of a punishment. The
little kid his father burnt. “You can’t help it, Zuko. People always mess up, it’s part of being
human.” He tried to relax some of the tension out of himself. He needed to make the hard-
headed idiot actually listen to him. Breathing deep, he let the corner of his mouth curl up in a
little smile. “And you have a tendency to speak your mind. Which is something I really like
about you, when it’s not in imminent danger of getting us killed. I enjoy your blunt honesty.
But I doubt your father and his generals will like it quite so much.”
“I’ll watch my tongue. I’ve learned my lesson.” There was just a shade too much pleading,
and it mixed with the barely banked rage uncomfortably.

“Will you? What if they do something that goes against your principles?”

“They won’t.”

Sokka took a couple of slow breaths. “Zuko, I’m your fathers enemy. If I get captured again
and hauled up to the gallows, you’ll sit back and watch him kill me? One of his shitty
generals? This Tsing arsehole? After everything we’ve been through?”

“He wouldn’t.” Even Zuko didn’t sound convinced.

“Of course he would! I’m actively fighting against him. My father is a leader of the people
attacking him. I’m friends with the Avatar, one of the few people who might be able to stop
him.” He let out a frustrated sigh and wished it was a scream. “Please, Zuko, just think about
it. I’m not saying you can never find a way. I’m not saying that you have to give up on the
things you want. Just consider the reality of the situation. I want you to think about what’s
important to you.”

“I have! Don’t you think I know what I want? I’ve wanted nothing else for three miserable
fucking years!”

“Do you? I want you to think about what your honour is worth to you. Of what honour
actually means, because I don’t think it’s what you think it is. You said to Chen you would
never get on your knees and beg again, and I hope you never have to-”

“You heard that?”

“You’re not a particularly quiet or softly spoken person. I’m sure the whole camp would have
heard that if they hadn’t been so busy fighting. Stop interrupting me. This is important.”
Zuko gave him a pinch faced look that hurt Sokka’s heart with fondness. “You said you
wouldn’t do it again, but the thing is, you did it. You got on your knees for me. You
prostrated yourself, humiliated yourself for me. To save me. You feel shamed by that, and I
get it. But the thing is, as far as I’m concerned? That showed a level of honour I’ve not seen
in many people. That you would do that to save your enemy.”

Sokka pushed himself up. He wanted to give Zuko a hug, but he didn’t think initiating
touching was a good idea right then. He looked like he was about to have a complete
emotional meltdown, and Sokka knew from experience, those could come with a side of
unfocused violence. “I don’t want you to get killed trying to get back something you never
lost. Just think about it, okay? I’m going to bed. I’ve had enough of today.”

He deliberately turned and set about preparing himself for bed, leaving Zuko to stew over his
words. Sokka’s own feelings were jumbled and his emotions were high. There was anger and
sadness and that bone deep exhaustion that felt like it was tugging at his brain and making his
thoughts slow. Sleep would help, presuming he could get some.
Sokka slid into their bedroll and shut his eyes. He could hear Zuko’s ragged breathing, a
sound that he suspected was accompanied by tears, but after crushing him so thoroughly, he
could at least do Zuko the favour of pretending not to notice. He suspected it wouldn’t be the
last time they had a conversation like that, and he was already vaguely thinking of other
arguments he could use. He had to make Zuko see, but there was only so much Sokka could
do, Zuko also had to see for himself.Sokka could scream about it until he was blue in the
face, and it wouldn’t make a difference unless Zuko opened his eyes to his own reality and
that of the world around him.

It was about ten long minutes, in which any hint of sleep continued to evade him, before
Zuko joined him in the bedroll, stiff, uncomfortable and radiating heat. He lay quietly, not
touching, with his breath still hitching slightly.

Sokka rolled over, and carefully tested the waters, pressing against Zuko’s back gently and
when he met no resistance, tucking himself up behind him, wrapping an arm around his waist
and pushing his face into the back of his neck. A familiar and comforting position. His clean
hair smelt good and safe and a world away from burnt corpses.

Zuko relaxed a small amount once Sokka settled, although he was still tense.

“Do you know what the stupidest part is?” Zuko asked, his voice still a little torn up.

Sokka resisted making any of the jokes that immediately sprung to mind. Now was not the
time. “No, tell me.”

“I can’t go home anyway. I can never go home while Zhao lives. While any of them do. My
father can never find out what happened on that boat. Never.”

From the way he could feel Zuko’s heart beating rapidly in his chest, he suspected that fear
was one that terrified him beyond many of the others. It just brought home again exactly the
kind of father Ozai was. If it had happened to Sokka, and if his dad found out about it, he
would comfort him, help him, and then when he could, seek justice. He suspected Ozai
would take what had happened to his son as evidence of his failure, or that he was weak. It
made Sokka so mad to even think of it. It was going to be a damn long road to get Zuko to
see and understand the truth. But he was going to take any opportunity he could to make him.

Zuko shuddered, curling in on himself a little tighter. “Every time I think I might be able to
move forward, I might get somewhere, everything gets worse. I was so close, Sokka. So,
fucking close.”

He wasn’t sure which time he meant, perhaps Pohuai Stronghold, perhaps his efforts in the
North Pole, whatever they had been, or maybe even the fact he had found the Avatar at all. “I
can’t say I’m not glad you failed. But I’m sorry that it happened the way it did.”

“Yeah. Me too. For you I mean. I’m sorry about what happened to you.”

Sokka sighed. “I know.”

“People I…like, who help me, don’t seem to have much luck.”
Unfortunately, that did seem to be the case, but it was hardly Zuko’s fault. “I don’t think Shen
and Haoyu are dead,” Sokka said. Their bodies would have been left with the rest if they had
been killed.

Zuko was silent for a moment, and when he spoke, his voice was a little shaky. “They might
wish they were.”

“I know.” He really, really did, having been up close and personal with Ro’s idea of a good
time. “Tomorrow, we’ll think of a plan, okay? You’ll feel better with a plan.”

Zuko didn’t say anything, but his arm came down to wrap around Sokka’s where it rested
against his stomach.

Sokka woke barely an hour later, with a weight on his hips and Zuko’s bright eyes glaring
into his own from inches away. “Wha?” he blurted as he blinked sleep away.

“Sokka, wake up.”

“I’m awake, I’m awake. Why are you sitting on me, you heavy bastard? How are you this
heavy? We eat the same stuff, but you weigh a ton.”

“Get up,” Zuko demanded, ignoring the grumbling, sleepy complaints.

Sokka pushed himself upon his elbows, the best he could do in the circumstances. “Why?
What’s happening?”

“I have a plan.”

Sokka let himself fall back onto their pillow with a thump. “Aw, fuck.”

It was not supposed to be a Zuko plan, Zuko plans were always terrible. Sokka could smell
the looming catastrophe, but frankly, he was going to listen to what he had to say, because
right now they were shit out of options that weren’t going to be disastrous.

…………………….

The man sitting across from Shen looked like any other young Fire Nation officer, clean cut
and well put together, with his black hair pulled up neatly into his topknot and his eyes a
warm, hateful amber. He was charming, almost friendly, but despite that, or perhaps because
of it, something about him made the hair rise on the back of Shen’s neck.
His instincts proved him right, of course. The man was still charming and still wearing a
warm smile when he broke the first of Shen’s fingers.

Left hand, though, that was nice of him.

“You going to give me a name?” Shen asked as he blinked spots out of his vision. His body
already ached from this morning’s beating, courtesy of some of the young officer’s men. At
least broken bones offered a little variety. “I feel like I deserve a name if you’re going to be
snapping bits off me.”

The tent was unnaturally warm, probably due to it being full of firebenders, which was a
thought that filled him with a primal sort of fear. The man leaned back, his smile was still
affable, but there was something of the contented predator in it, like he was wondering if he
fancied playing with his prey or was just planning to go for a kill. It was a similar expression
to the one he had been wearing just before he had twisted the joint in Shen’s finger until it
snapped.

“My name is Captain Ro. And you are?”

Shen said nothing, eyeing the man again. He recognised the name. This was the man who had
taken such pleasure in torturing Sokka. He was one of the men who had raped Zuli.

“It’s not very polite for you not to return the favour, Captain…?”

“Shen.” Wasn’t much point in hiding it, there was no way the man could use his name against
him, he wasn’t important enough for that. Just a farmer’s son who had worked his way up
through the ranks.

Ro nodded, horrible smile still playing on his lips. “Where is Hakoda’s son and his friend?”
He asked.

Shen shrugged as best he could with his arms tied to the chair he was sitting on. The motion
sent waves of pain from his hand, but he ignored it.

Ro made a faux regretful face and leaned across the table between them to lay a thumb
against the inside of Shen’s elbow. The burning pain that followed was overwhelming. He’d
been burnt before in battle, but not like this, not held down with nowhere to run, not so slow
and deliberate. He didn’t scream, but it was a very near thing, instead he found himself
panting with the shock of it.

“You will tell me.”

Shen fought to control his breathing. “And if I do?” he managed after a few long moments.
“Are you telling me you’ll stop?” He glanced at the other men in the tent. Two guards and
another guy with rank. He was older, very upright and standing rather than sitting. His
uniform looked a little different, perhaps from another unit. Shen wet his lips and sneered.
“Because I’m not so sure you will. I think you’re enjoying hurting me too much. Almost as
much as you enjoy hurting little boys.”
Ro’s mouth pinched ever so slightly. “They’re hardly little. Old enough to fight. And I will do
whatever I have to for the glory of the Fire Lord,” he said with an air of false piety.

He sounded like a smug shit. It was hard for Shen to think with the fear and pain thrumming
through his body, alongside a healthy dose of anger. For his men, for the boys, for the Earth
Kingdom. But he forced himself to try to pay attention to the man. There had to be something
he could use here. He had asked after Sokka, not Zuli, even though there was no reason for
them to want to reclaim Sokka other than petty vengeance, unless perhaps they were planning
to try to use him against his father again, but then why not just try for Hakoda directly? Ro
was hiding Zuli’s identity and crimes from the other men in the tent, and Shen would bet his
right arm that wasn’t all he was hiding.

“I know what else you like to do to little boys,” he said, with another scornful curl of his lip.

Ro backhanded him hard enough to rattle his skull. But Shen gave him a nasty smile through
the blood in his mouth. Ro shouldn’t have done that, it showed he was affected by the
statement. The other soldier was eyeing him a little askance, the questions clear behind his
steely facade. It was a weak spot, and now Shen knew exactly where to push. It was obvious
he wasn’t going to survive this situation, and a quick death at the hands of an angry
firebender was far better than whatever this son of a bitch had planned for him.

Seeming to register his mistake, Ro regained his composure quickly and leaned back in his
chair, a picture of casual indifference.

Of course, Shen couldn’t outright talk about Zuli either, because as it stood, only the
admiral’s men were after him. If these other soldiers found out what his alleged crimes were,
they would target him too. “I don’t see how I have any information that will be useful to you.
You clearly know where both Hakoda and his son are,” he said instead.

The other man narrowed his light brown eyes at him. “I am Captain Kazuma. My general
wants to know the identity of the Blue Spirit. Captain Ro says that he has traced the man
back to your unit.”

Shen snorted. “Well then, Captain Ro is full of shit. I know the Blue Spirit is a real person, or
a group of people, but he’s not connected to my unit. Or the Army, as far as I know.”

“Why would you say it’s a group?” Kazuma asked with some interest.

“Because of the disparity in the descriptions? Look, I know if I was going to go commit some
crime, I might dress myself up to look like a famous vigilante in order to pass the blame onto
someone else. And before you burn a hole in me, in reality I have done no such thing, I’ve
been far too busy fighting a fucking war. Ro and his admiral let his prisoners escape and they
needed your help to get them back. The Blue Spirit is not in the camp.”

He was very aware of the pure hatred in Ro’s eyes. But there didn’t seem to be much point in
holding back. As soon as Kazuma left the tent, Shen was a dead man anyway. He thought that
the other captain knew that too, the way he was looking at Ro out of the corner of his eye.
“Our intel was clear. And I fully believe it,” Ro said smoothly, and pretty convincingly, even
though Shen knew he was lying. “Perhaps if I put you to the question, you’ll change your
tune and admit the truth.”

“I’m sure I’ll say all sorts of bullshit. That’s what happens when you put someone ‘to the
question’. Doesn’t work, in my experience. But I doubt that makes much of a difference to
the likes of you.”

“No,” Kazuma said, cutting across whatever Ro was about to say. Shen thought he might
have the superiority between the two captains. He was sure Ro hated that. “No, that was the
priority before. But my concern now is the planned defence of Ba Sing Se. We need to know
their plans. I will take Captain Shen back with me, and General Tsing will question him
personally.”

Ro looked mulish, like a toddler being forced to share his favourite toy. Pathetic.

Kazuma stepped back from the table, turning to face Ro. “I know you have questions you
need to ask regarding your own admiral’s orders,” he said. His stern face showed little, but
Shen thought he was enjoying pulling rank. “And I will give you an hour to do what you
must.” His lip turned up, just a little. He wasn’t a fan of torture for fun. Good to know.

Ro’s eyes moved back to Shen and his gaze promised a lot of unpleasantness, like it was
Shen’s fault Kazuma outranked him and wanted to ask questions about the actual war rather
than play petty games. It looked like torture either way, but at least Ro wouldn’t be getting
off on it if Shen was taken to Tsing.

Kazuma nodded to him, and Shen wasn’t sure if he was being polite due to his rank, or if it
was in lieu of an apology for leaving him for an hour with his sadistic navy counterpart. “And
Captain Ro? I’m going to need him to be functional. No permanent serious injury, nothing
that might result in infection. Nothing debilitating.”

“I understand, Captain,” Ro said smoothly. He was looking at Shen with a predatory

expression. This was going to suck.

After the other men cleared the tent, Ro leaned across the table again. First running a finger
over the ugly burn he had left earlier, then with some interest, over the mostly healed teeth-
marks in Shen’s arm.

“This looks painful.”

Shen kept his voice light even though his skin was crawling at the touch. “A pigmy puma,”
he said.

Ro smiled a little, not a smug one, just a small curl of amusement. He knew exactly which of
the boys had done that. “Why are you protecting a kid with Fire Nation blood? Isn’t that
against your Earth principals?”

“For some, perhaps.”

He traced around the tooth marks again, fascinated, touching each little indent. It was horrible
and disturbing.

Shen flexed his right hand, the only one with fingers he could move. “I will not answer
questions on the boys, just so you know that up front.”

Ro shrugged. “Well, like you said, it’s not like I don’t know where they are.”

Shen nodded. “You’re just a twisted up freak who likes hurting people.”

Ro rose to his feet and moved around the small table, resting his butt on the corner, looking
down at Shen. The position was threatening, even though his face was still amicable and
amused. “I’m sure Tsing will question you properly. It seems a shame to miss out on it. But
I’m certain I can find someone else to take your place.”

“If they put me to the question, aren’t you a little worried about what I might say?”

“They know nothing about the boy. Just another scarred traitor.”

Shen looked up at him, face equally friendly. “No one of any interest,” he agreed. “But I
wonder what they will think about what you did to him.”

Ro’s eyes narrowed. “You won’t be believed. You said yourself, a man under torture will say
anything to distract or pass the blame.”

That was true, but Shen also knew even a seed of doubt could flourish, and he would be sure
to start sowing as soon as he could. Anyone that knew this man would believe him capable of
such depraved things. And perhaps if he was lucky, word might reach the admiral. Sokka had
implied that the man hadn’t known Ro had also indulged himself with his prisoner. Perhaps
he could get a little revenge even after death. He would just need to be careful to keep the
boys’ names out of it, as well as a physical description of Zuli—the last thing the kid needed
was more men on his trail.

“Shall we get started?” Ro asked politely.

“Not like I can stop you.”

Ro smiled and Shen tried to find some sort of inner peace to hold on to.

This was not going to be pleasant.

Chapter End Notes

Next chapter: Some decisions are made and some plans are executed, Iroh and the
Gaang discuss bending, and Shen tries to cause as much trouble as he can, while he can.
 Chapter 13
Chapter Summary

"Zuko, you are the guy that swam under sea ice without knowing if there was anywhere
to come up for air. I am the guy that likes to parallel plan."

Chapter Notes

Many thanks to my beta burkesl17, who has managed to wrangle my dyslexic nonsense.
All mistakes are my own.

Warnings: references to torture and non-con, wound care (not graphic)

Thank you for your lovely comments and kind words :)

See the end of the chapter for more notes

“Do you think he will go?” Katara asked. She didn’t have to spell out who she meant. Uncle
had been distant since the last brush with his niece.

Aang shrugged with a small grimace. He had volunteered to collect firewood, and Katara had
joined him. Partly to lend a hand, and partly so they had time to discuss matters before
rejoining the others. He sighed, he clearly didn’t want the man to leave, but also seemed
sympathetic to his situation in a way Katara could admit she was struggling with. She found
it very difficult to feel anything positive towards Azula, who had been running them like a
herd of Buffalo yak. She was different to Zuko, more calculated, it felt almost like she was
testing them, rather than all out attacking. Although she was apparently almost as good at
tracking them as her brother had been, there was something far more frightening about her.

“Do you?” She prompted, when Aang seemed more inclined to stare at the sticks in his hands
than answer.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think he will,” Aang admitted after a moment. “I wish he would stay, but if he
feels he needs to go, it would be wrong to stop him.”

“She’s going to kill him, Aang.”

“He’s powerful, and he’s clever. I don’t think he will approach her without a plan.”
Katara kicked at the dirt as they walked. He was right of course, but she still wasn’t
convinced that Azula would listen unless she had a very good reason. She had used the news
of her own brother’s death as a weapon against her uncle, and she had used it with
devastating accuracy. What kind of person did that? She knew she was projecting a little, she
and Azula had both lost their brothers and there was a part of her that was both furious and
desperately sad that Azula could use her loss in such an unfeeling way. “I worry that his guilt
and feeling of kinship with her are deluding him to the reality of the situation,” she said.

“Yeah.” Aang sent a gust of air to bring a stray stick into the pile in his arms. It lifted the dust
in a swirl that twisted in the warm afternoon light. “It’s a risk.” He sighed again, screwing his
face up a little and looking at her sideways. “And I was hoping maybe he would teach me. I
think perhaps I could trust him to be the one to show me, to teach me control.”

“I thought that was where we were heading too,” Katara said. “It worries me he hasn’t
offered outright. I trust him on a personal level, he has done nothing to make me doubt him.
But he is an enemy prince.”

“I think he is on our side,” Aang sounded confident, he truly believed it. “He wants balance
restored, and he wants his brother off the throne. But perhaps there is a part of him that’s sad
about it, that doesn’t want to be the one to take him down.” He shrugged a little helplessly.
“He must love him on some level.”

Katara didn’t think so. She remembered his face after Azula had told him Zuko’s fate, and
when he had spoken of what Ozai had done to his son. There had been something in Iroh’s
eyes that chilled her. But she also approved of it, even though it made her shiver. She would
kill for her family, the living and the dead, she could understand that anger and that burning
need. He wanted justice for his nephew. “Perhaps once,” she said. “But not now. Not after
what the Fire Lord has done to his family.”

“Well, I need to learn earth first, anyway. And that’s not going super well.”

“It’s only been a few days, give it time.”

“I suppose.”

Bending came so easily to him, and his aptitude for learning was fantastic when he bothered
to apply himself, something that was more than mildly annoying sometimes. But he was
finding Toph’s teaching style… challenging.

Although, to be fair, Toph was challenging. Katara liked to think she was good with people,
but she was certainly finding the newest member of the group a little difficult. Perhaps it
would be better in less fraught circumstances. She suspected her constant worrying about
Iroh might be adding to the stress and maybe making her less understanding than usual.

As it stood, they seemed to have a firebender on their side, but if he went to Azula and she
didn’t kill him, would that then mean he would begin working against them? How was it
possible for him to avoid it? Was he thinking he could turnAzula? She would have given him
slim odds persuading Zuko, but she would give him only a vanishing chance of success with
his niece. “Do you think he will help Azula if she accepts him?” Opposing us, she meant, but
she couldn’t quite bring herself to put it into words.

“Against us?” Aang looked like he was going to give a reflexive denial, but then he seemed
to take a moment to ponder it. “No, I don’t think that he will. He may give the appearance of
joining her, but I don’t believe he would harm us, or support his brother’s plans for the
world.”

Katara nodded. That was also the way she felt, but it was good to hear it from someone else.
“If we take out the Fire Lord, then it’s him or Azula on the throne. If he is trying to get her
onside…I am not sure she is a suitable candidate.” That was putting it mildly.

“She deserves the chance to try.”

Katara scowled. “Yeah, maybe, but she only gets the one chance. Unlike Zuko, who was
attempting to capture you, she was aiming to kill Uncle. I do not want to give her multiple
tries at us. It’s not worth the risk. And I don’t think she differs from her father all that much. I
want Iroh on the throne, or no throne at all.”

Aang ignored that last comment. “Me too. A Fire Lord who understands people from other
nations has to be good, right? And Uncle at least has friends from different places.”

“Which I still find very strange!”

“It didn’t used to be,” Aang said, regretful and a little sad. “People enjoyed travelling and
meeting folk from other lands.”

“Well, his family put pay to that.”

“Yeah.” Aang’s mouth turned down.

She really hated him looking despondent, so she fought hard to change her tone. “But we will
make a difference. You will. Things will get better.”

He gave her one of those smiles that made something warm form in her chest. It was full of
faith. Faith in her, in her choices and her sense of duty and compassion. It gave her hope
when she doubted herself. If she could give even a fraction of that back to him, then she
would feel like she was achieving something, even when they were stuck in the middle of
nowhere collecting sticks.

They headed back to the camp. She didn’t feel exactly lightened by their discussion, but she
felt better having spoken about it, shared her concerns. Aang looked a little pensive, like he
was still thinking things through, but he brightened as they returned to the riverside and were
met with Iroh’s warm smile and Toph’s slightly evil grin. Personally, Katara would be
worried to have that pointed in her direction, but Aang seemed happy enough to dash on
ahead, firewood falling behind him as he ran.

“Come on, Twinkle Toes! We have enough light for another hour or two!” Toph called,
kicking dust with her bare toes as she bore down on them.
Katara sighed, and resigned herself to collecting Aang’s discarded sticks, before she slowly
made her way towards Iroh and the fire. He was sitting closer to the river’s edge, a selection
of gnarly brown root vegetables on the bank beside him. It looked like he was done washing
them and had begun to peel and chop, adding them to the cook pot.

“Katara,” Iroh greeted her warmly.

“Uncle.” She moved past him, pausing to remove her footwear and roll up her trousers. “I’m
going to practice for a while, if you don’t mind?”

“No, of course! I hope you do not mind me observing your forms.”

Katara waded out into the cold water. She moved her hands in smooth motions, her knees
bent and ready. “Why do you enjoy watching us bend so much? There is nothing you can
learn from Toph or myself.” Except how to counter their attacks, but she didn’t think that was
the reason, whatever her other concerns.

He encouraged the fire to grow, fixing the cook pot over the flames. “I believe we can learn a
great deal about our own bending, watching others, no matter what element they control.
Although they are separate, all four are part of one whole.”

Katara nodded. “That’s what makes the Avatar so powerful.” Although it was far more than
just bending that made the Aang a force in the world.

“Indeed.” Iroh looked pleased. He poured a little water from the cook pot into his teapot, no
doubt intending to leave it to cool to the optimum temperature for brewing. Then, he
unpacked a small paper package from his bag, tea he had bought from the last village they
had stopped in, before someone looked a little too closely at his face and they’d had to leave
rather quickly. It was a pleasantly nutty scented blend, with curled green leaves and grains of
rice. Katara still preferred the smell of most of them to the taste, but she could admit she
rather liked this one. She seemed to have learned an unreasonable amount about tea without
meaning to over the past month or so.

“The four elements working together create balance.” Iroh said, carefully measuring out the
leaves.

Katara moved the flow of water between her hands, increasing speed while maintaining
control. She loved the way these simple exercises made her feel, the connection to her
element, the knowledge of her progress. “But the world is out of balance, with no
airbenders,” she pointed out. She slowed the motions of her hands slightly to look at him
from the corner of her eye. He seemed resigned, and a little sad.

“Yes. My people have done a great disservice to the world, as well as an unimaginable
cruelty to those who live in it. Those that should still live in it.”

Although she wanted Uncle to know and acknowledge his people’s crimes, she didn’t want to
make him sad. It hurt her to see him grieve, and it hurt her to see him shamed. She spun her
water faster. “So, do you think I can learn something about my bending from watching Toph
train Aang?”
“Yes perhaps!” He brightened again. “Toph is a fascinating bender, she uses unique forms
unlike those I have seen before. I think I could learn from her, as a firebender, and I suspect
you could also.”

It didn’t make Katara jealous as such, just a little frustrated. She wished she’d had the
resources and the time to learn, to form her own style, rather than having to absorb years of
training in a short time. She was very proud of her progress, and even prouder at being
skilled enough to train the Avatar. But she couldn’t help wondering what it would have been
like if the world had been different while she grew up. But envy aside, she was also suddenly
curious. It was the rare times like these she could try things, stretch the boundaries her own
way. Learn what she was capable of.

She held the water still for a moment, then moved her hands out in two jerky movements,
like she had seen Toph do when blasting stone forward. The water flew fast and powerful,
before turning into more of a wet splat than the projectile she had been aiming for. It wasn’t
quite what she had been hoping for, but there was something in it, or would be with a bit
more refining and practice. Perhaps if it was ice?

Iroh was leaning forward, watching with great interest, even his tea was forgotten, getting
cold in his cup. “Did you know that I created the technique I used to redirect my niece’s
lightning from watching waterbenders?”

Katara turned to him in surprise. “Really?”

“Oh yes. When we learn fire, we learn to use it aggressively. It can be quite uncompromising.
But it doesn’t have to be, it is just the way we are taught. This is why I wondered if Zuko’s
struggles with his bending through childhood were more to do with the teaching, the
expectation of learning only in one way, rather than his actual potential.” He settled back a
little, seeming to notice his cold cup, which he picked up and heated gently. “But
waterbending is flexible, adaptable. When the lightning enters the body, you mustn’t fight it,
you must let it flow through you, redirect its energy away from the parts of your body where
it can do you harm and instead guide it safely out and away.”

Everything he had said made sense, she could almost see it, even if the idea itself was a little
shocking. “Can you show me? Could I learn it?”

“No! Or at least not in the form I have done it, water conducts electricity. Any attempt could
kill you.”

She rolled her eyes at him a little, touched by the concern on his face. “I know that, but if it’s
really a waterbending form, there must be something I could do with it.”

“Yes, perhaps so. But not with lightning, I would hope! I will show you after dinner. Perhaps
you can also use it as practice to see how using waterbending forms influences my inner
fire.”

This was something they had been attempting together. He had been trying to teach her to see
the chi paths and the natural flow and energy in every person, bender or not. As well as being
both interesting and useful, she felt it could help her healing abilities. The body was complex
and although Yagoda had told her she was naturally talented, she hadn’t had enough time to
study with her. The need to learn more offensive forms had been greater then. It still was, but
she tried to devote at least some of her practice to studying the human form, the unseen
delicate paths through the body.

Iroh was fascinated by healing, and they worked together as much as they could, given their
bending differences. Iroh couldn’t see exactly what she was doing in a body, even when it
was his own, but he could sense the chi she was manipulating. It was exciting to learn with
someone who was so knowledgeable, but also learning themselves.

Iroh served them his soup. It was hearty and subtly flavoured with the vegetables.

“You’re a good cook, Uncle,” Aang told him as they ate. It was still early, and the sun was
offering the last few warm rays before setting.

“Thank you, Aang. I am glad that you are enjoying my humble efforts. When I was a younger
man, I would never have dreamed that I would cook for others, let alone that I would take
pleasure in it.”

Toph grinned around the bowl she was tipping into her mouth. “Cooking is a servant’s job,
the Great Dragon of the West lowering himself to using a pot over a campfire?” She smirked.

Iroh looked amused. “Quite so. I did not know the simple joy in creating or the even greater
reward of sharing those creations with others. I was a far more foolish person then.”

“And now you’re a man of the people.” It didn’t sound as mocking as it could have been.
Toph looked genuinely interested, if also very amused.

“Perhaps,” Iroh agreed. “I have learned many things since leaving my position, and more still
these past three years.”

“Things like patience?” Katara asked teasingly.

He smiled at her, taking it as she intended. “Oh yes, patience and understanding. Lots of it.”

“What about the arts?” Aang asked. “Music, theatre? Or have you discovered a previously
unknown skill at poetry?”

Iroh chuckled. “We enjoyed music night very much aboard my nephew’s ship.” He put his
own bowl down, looking satisfied. “When I say we, I meant myself and the crew, Zuko was
not easy to persuade to take part. Although I managed sometimes.”

“Did you threaten him?”

“No.” His face dropped again. “He was actually quite talented and used to enjoy music as a
child. But he felt the crew were looking down on him, and he stopped taking part.”
“He played an instrument?” Katara asked. It was hard to imagine, but harder still to imagine
him singing.

“The Tsungi horn.”

Aang laughed, a bright, clear sound that made Iroh’s mouth twitch up into a small smile. “I
bet he was good at that! He certainly had the lung capacity for it!” Aang said with a broad
grin.

Iroh blinked and then laughed, rich and warm, the perfect compliment to Aang’s giggles.
“Yes! That is very true. That boy could shout, and he could continue to shout at an impressive
volume for a surprisingly long time.”

“He sounds delightful,” Toph said with a wide grin. Katara honestly couldn’t tell if she was
being sarcastic or not.

While she and Aang debated Zuko’s dubious merits, Katara leaned across to clear their
bowls. When she reached Iroh’s, she looked at him, considering. “You said you would show
me after dinner?”

He nodded at her. “Yes, of course. It is a good night to practise your chi work.”

She had no idea what the type of night had to do with chi, but she smiled back. “Thank you,
Uncle.” His answering smile warmed her.

She really, really didn’t want him to go.

……………………………

Shen was quite glad to be tied to his saddle, or he thought he might have fallen off his mount,
which would have been embarrassing. He had never been on the back of one of the Fire
Nation’s komodo rhinos before. He had examined the corpses of the creatures with some
interest after battle, but had never been so close to a live one. The smell was strong, but not
unpleasant. Not dissimilar to a very pungent cow-pig. The gait was different to ostrich horses
and required him to hold his body in a way that currently hurt a considerable amount.
Although he suspected that would be the case no matter how he was travelling.

Ro had enjoyed the hour he had been given, and Shen’s body told that story painfully.
However, it could have been worse, a lot worse. Would have been, if the man had more time
and did not have a superior officer with a prior claim. As it was, Shen still had all his body
parts attached and had not suffered Zuli’s fate. He was grateful for both things, given the
man’s track record. He had some concern about his broken fingers setting poorly, and he was
sporting a new collection of burns, bruises and assorted trauma, but he would survive. At
least until they reached Lao River Fort, which was where he assumed they were heading.
It was just him alone. His men had been taken elsewhere. He could only hope that Tsing’s
soldiers were transporting them to prison camps of some sort, rather than leaving them with
that piece of pig shit, Ro. But it was unclear what their fate was. The Fire Nation used to take
all earthbenders to special prisons to be put to work, but there had been some sort of uprising
in one of the camps recently. Some rumours said the Avatar was involved, others seemed to
suggest the benders had just had enough and risen against their captors. Perhaps it was a
combination of both. The consequence of the insurrection was a crackdown on the other
prisons, and benders in general. The current practice to thin the herd seemed to be one for
work, one to be crippled or killed. He couldn’t bear to think about it. Nor of the possible fate
of his other men. They had been loyal, had trusted him and their commanders and it had led
them to this. He couldn’t even be with them in the end. It hurt far worse than any injury Ro
could inflict on him.

“Do you need water, Captain?” Kazuma asked, riding his beast abreast of Shen. He had been
attentive. Shen wasn’t sure if he felt guilty about leaving him to Ro’s tender mercies, or if he
was curious having been given the opportunity to converse with his Earth Kingdom
counterpart. Perhaps he was attempting to build a bond before the inevitable unpleasantness
when they reached their destination. It was a good tactic, offering a few small kindnesses
whilst other people gave only hurt. Made a man more likely to trust you, let something slip.

Shen did want water, but as his hands were tied, someone had to pour it into his mouth,
which he found quite objectionable. That said, he wasn’t going to turn it down, pride or no
pride. He nodded and had to bend himself awkwardly as one of the men helped him to drink.
Humiliating. The water that actually went into his mouth was cooling and very welcome,
though. Torture did seem to build up a thirst.

“Tell me, Captain Shen, how long have you been fighting this war?” Kazuma asked. “I hear
the Earth Kingdom recruits young.”

Shen schooled his voice to be as casual as he could, although his shirt was rubbing against
the burns on his chest in a way that was painfully distracting. He shifted a little to ease the
discomfort. “Funny, I hear the same about the Fire Nation. I’ve been in the army most of my
teens and all my adult life. I assume you are the same.” Kazuma’s rigid bearing and manner
screamed of a long military history.

“You assume correctly.”

He had the air of someone who was very in control of themselves, very certain of where they
were in the world. Shen could admit that it made him want to kick something loose in the
man. He was far more pleasant company than Ro, but then, an angry scorpion would be
better company than that steaming pile of shit, so the bar was low. He eyed the captain again,
attempting to keep the anger and hate out of his gaze. He couldn’t stand the sight of his red
uniform. It was an appropriate colour of course, washed in his people’s blood, but it made
something in him boil with fury to look at it. Shen had to force himself to see beyond it to the
man himself. Kazuma’s hair was dark, but his short beard was an iron grey. He looked to be
about a decade older than Shen, maybe a little more. His eyes were a similar colour to
Yuxuan’s. Shen’s heart squeezed, he had to stop thinking about his men until there was a
chance he could help them.
“How long have you had a command under General Tsing?” he asked, to distract himself. He
kept his voice as light and friendly as he could.

Kazuma shot him what might have been an amused glance, it was hard to tell with his dour
face and serious countenance. “Who is questioning who here, Captain?” he asked.

Shen grinned at him, as best he could, while trying to keep the grimace of discomfort off his
face. “Just making polite conversation.”

Kazuma snorted lightly. “I took my position a few years ago. Previously, I was stationed in
the colonies. And yourself? Whose command are you under?”

Shen gave him an amused glance right back. “Nice try. I think I will remain quiet on that
one.”

“As you said, I’m just making polite conversation.”

Shen’s komodo rhino stumbled a little, and he failed to keep back a yelp as his body was
jolted and what felt like a million points of pain let themselves be known.

Kazuma frowned at him. “Are your injuries troubling you? We have no dedicated healer with
us, but we have salve and bandages if your wounds need further dressing.”

“You’re too kind,” Shen said between gritted teeth. “Would have been kinder not to let that
sadistic child rapist have his fifteen minutes of fun in the first place,” he couldn’t resist
pointing out. Kazuma’s polite attitude was aggravating, considering the circumstances.

“That is quite a serious accusation to make. It seemed clear from your interaction with him in
the camp that you believed him capable of such a thing.”

“Oh, I am. I saw the evidence of what he and the admiral did to those boys. Saw it written on
their skin.”

Kazuma nodded, his face full of grim lines. “What sort of evidence? What gave you the
impression it was…that?”

“Bite marks. Burns from being restrained. And the healer did a full intimate exam on the boy.
Laid it out pretty clear what had happened to him.”

“And you know it was Ro?”

“Him and the admiral, Zhao.”

Kazuma’s jaw clenched a little. Interesting. The accusation angered him, but didn’t surprise
him. Not for either man.

“There was no need for the boys to lie to us about it,” Shen pointed out, just to put as much
weight as he could behind it.

“No, but there’s plenty of reason for you to lie to me about it.”
“Not really. It’s not like I’m expecting you to act, or even give a shit. But the whole thing
made me pretty angry. I like those boys, they’re good kids who didn’t deserve what happened
to them, either of them. I don’t expect the Fire Nation to have standards, but I for one, do not
put up with that kind of thing in my unit.”

Kazuma looked strangely offended. Shen supposed he would be too, if their positions were
reversed and he was being accused of not caring about that sort of crime. “I can’t do anything
without evidence,” Kazuma said after a moment. “That much is true. And I could not make
any case for it without speaking to the boy and seeing the physical...damage for myself.”

“Oh, so all we have to do is ask the traumatised victim to hand himself over to his enemies so
he can point fingers in a court of law? You do have law courts in the Fire Nation? Or do you
just decide on what works best for you at any given time?”

“We have courts and criminal processes, both within civilian communities and in the army.
And no, I am not expecting the boy to hand himself over, or for there to be any justice in this
case. I was merely wondering if it was a pattern of behaviour for Acting Captain Ro.”

Oh, he really didn’t like Ro, but there was nothing he could do about it. He clearly wasn’t
crazy enough to accuse an admiral, proof or no proof. Shen kind of understood his obvious
frustration, which was an odd thing to have in common with a Fire Nation officer. He thought
Kazuma was feeling the same way as Shen felt when he heard a report of Earth Kingdom
soldiers attacking or taking advantage of civilians—no matter which side of the conflict they
were on. It made Shen feel furious that his own people would do such a thing, and he came
down very hard on it if he ever received proof of wrongdoing. But even just hearing about it
made him angry, shamed and strangely betrayed, like he expected better of his people and felt
some responsibility for their actions.

That Kazuma would feel the same way about a rapist in his ranks felt odd, but gave him a
glimmer of hope the man could be reasoned with to some extent.

“From my understanding and discussion with the two boys, as well as my interaction with the
man, I would say that it was a pattern, but not one that focuses on the age or gender of his
victims,” Shen said after some thought. “I honestly don’t think he cares, as long as he gets
what he wants from them.”

“And what is that, in your opinion?” Kazuma said stiffly.

“Fear? Pain?” He shrugged. “You want my opinion? He’s a sick freak, and he will bring
nothing but dishonour to the Fire Nation and her people. Although I admit I’m a little bit
biassed.”

“It sounds like you became attached to these boys. Tell me about them.”

There were so many ways to trip up here, things he could say that might cause problems
further down the line, assuming the kids had survived the planned attack on the camp and any
subsequent actions from Huang. But there were things he could share without endangering
either of them. Kazuma’s angry frustration had given him a bit of hope. There was very little
chance anything could be done about the admiral. He outranked Kazuma, and although
rumour might harm him, it was a lot less likely to end his career, let alone lead to any justice.
But Ro was apparently just an acting captain. His reputation could be dragged through the
mud and destroyed with little in the way of repercussions. More than that, the admiral might
actively choose to get rid of him to save himself the association. It was nowhere near the
justice that was deserved, but beggars could not be choosers.

“What did Ro tell you?” Shen asked. “I don’t believe he has been particularly truthful from
the bits of information I’ve picked up.”

“That the Blue Spirit had been tracked to your camp. That was the primary information he
brought us. He also said that Zhao had lost a couple of prisoners they were hoping to
recapture. He said one had use as a hostage, and the other was a thief that had stolen from
Zhao personally.”

Shen rolled his eyes. “The escaped prisoners part is true, I’ll give you that. I already told you
what I think of the rest of it. Ro wanted your help, offered Tsing bait he couldn’t resist, and
then ‘oh no, the Blue Spirit is gone’, or the intel was wrong.” He sneered, “Come on. He has
no interest in the Blue Spirit, he wants those boys.”

Kazuma nodded, accepting that, although he looked slightly preoccupied, like he was
puzzling through something. “Tell me what you can about them. One is Chief Hakoda’s son?
He would be the hostage, I presume?”

“Yeah. He’s just sixteen, barely trained. He had never left his village until recently, when it
was raided by your people.”

“What would be the point of recapturing him? His father was in the camp, was he not?”

Shen snorted rudely. “Well, exactly. I think Admiral Zhao might get in trouble for letting his
prisoner escape. Having Hakoda’s son would have been very useful to use against the fleet.
Or would have been if he had not already tried and failed to negotiate with the Water Tribe.”

“Hakoda did not agree to Zhao’s terms?”

“He never even acknowledged the receipt of his letters.”

Kazuma pursed his lips, giving Shen a sideways glance. “A hard man.”

Shen didn’t disabuse him of the notion, even though it was very far from the truth. That
Hakoda loved his son, would die for him, was not even a question in his mind. But he was
strong enough to have realised the horrible reality of the situation he and Sokka had found
themselves in and had done what was best for the greater good. And he had suffered for it,
and would probably continue to do so for the rest of his life. Having to make a choice like
that would have been soul destroying, no matter the outcome in the end.

“Thing is, Captain Kazuma, even as a hostage he should have been kept safe. Under Zhao’s
orders, Ro tortured him, burnt him, thrashed him like a common criminal and starved him.
He was a little kid when he last saw his dad. He had nothing useful for the man to question
him over. They did it for fun, and to gain control over the other boy.”
Kazuma was watching him carefully, and it was slightly disconcerting. He was clearly trying
to figure out if he was lying or not. He didn’t look ruffled, but there was a slight tension in his
face. Shen thought it was more disapproval and anger. “And the other one?” Kazuma asked.

Shen shrugged as best he could in his current position. “Don’t know much of his history. He
has Fire Nation blood for sure, the way he looks.”

“I’m surprised you gave him sanctuary, if that’s the case.”

“There was some debate,” Shen admitted, a little ruefully. “But Hakoda’s boy vouched for
him, and there was evidence that whatever his parentage, he and the Fire Nation were not on
good terms.”

“Evidence?”

“Burns,” Shen said tightly, thinking back to the first time he had seen that awful scar. “Very
serious burns, some years old.”

“I see.”

Spirits, he hoped they were both okay. He hoped Hakoda was too, and that he had managed
to prevent whatever fuckery Huang had planned. “Kid’s sixteen. I’m not exactly sure what he
did to piss off the admiral, but whatever it was, the man sure enjoyed his revenge. There was
no possible motive for torture other than pleasure.”

Kazuma looked a little like he had bitten into a sour fruit. “Admiral Zhao is known for being
a little…vigorous in his reaction to perceived slights. I can well imagine him making sure an
enemy regretted being caught. But a sixteen-year-old boy? Spending the time and energy to
torment a child who hasn’t even reached his majority yet? It would not look good for him.” It
was clear the man thought Shen was lying or exaggerating. Or maybe he was just hoping that
was the case.

“I don’t think he let it be known. Just his crew. It was only after the kids escaped he made
any kind of deal out of it. I assume to avoid an embarrassment like this one. From my
understanding, his issues with the boy were personal, some past humiliation. Perhaps he was
robbed, as Ro said. Although if that was the case, it was a very steep penalty for a crime
committed by a child. As you implied, rather than making him look like a strong leader, it
makes him look like a petty bastard or a flat-out sadist.”

“Hmm,” Kazuma said. There was a speculative look on his face, a slight wrinkling of his
brow. Shen wasn’t sure if that was a positive or a negative and they rode in silence for a
while he worried about it.

Without the distraction of conversation, the many points of hurt on his body were reminding
him of their presence. His hand ached and the wounds on his chest and arms burned and
stung. He attempted to meditate, focus on breathing, and let the pain pass him by. It was not
going very well.
He was also increasingly anxious about the future, whatever he had left of it. People always
thought they wouldn’t crack under torture, that they would be strong enough to resist. But
Shen knew everyone had a breaking point. He wasn’t sure what his would be, and he was not
looking forward to finding out.

How much damage could he do to his people with what he knew? Would Huang change their
plans, knowing he had been captured and potentially compromised? The general must know
by now, and Shen wasn’t foolish enough to believe that he would be rescued. His best chance
was escape or death, and he suspected neither would be easy to come by. He shifted his
weight again, trying to find some relief. It was not easy and his mind kept drifting back to the
fight, to his men, to Ro and the boys.

The rest of the ride was not a pleasant one.

When they finally made camp for the evening, it brought little relief from the discomfort. The
komodo rhinos were much wider than an ostrich horse, even one as big and round as
Dumpling, and the strain on his thighs and buttocks was very noticeable. He had to work hard
not to hobble embarrassingly after being forcibly dismounted and marched to the tent the
soldiers had set up for their captain.

Once inside, his feet were bound and a grim-faced soldier dragged his shirt over his head
roughly, leaving it tangled on his bound wrists. He sat on the floor while a wiry little man
with alarmingly hot hands cleaned and tended his wounds. Kazuma settled at a low table and
drank tea while he watched quietly. Shen kept his face as blank as he could, but he couldn’t
quite hold back the occasional wince when a particularly sore area was poked. Ro had
certainly enjoyed his hour, focusing mostly on areas of soft skin, like the inside of his arms.
There wasn’t going to be much left of his right nipple when it healed up, either. He ignored
that and how it made him feel, and stared resolutely at Kazuma’s steaming tea cup instead.

Once the soldier was done, the captain waved him off, leaving the two of them alone. The
sun had long since set and the lanterns in the tent cast long shadows that danced as Kazuma
shifted into a slightly more relaxed posture. “How are you feeling, Captain Shen?”

“Better,” Shen acknowledged. The rough material of his shirt had been rubbing horribly on
some of the more unpleasant burns, and he was glad to be free of it, although he felt a little
exposed, half dressed in an enemy commander’s tent. The shirt was still covering his bound
hands, and he began to slowly try to explore the cuffs, both with his fingers and by flexing
his wrists slightly. He didn’t think he was going to get out of them with half his left hand
broken, but he was sure as shit going to try.

Kazuma set his cup down and stared at him for a while before speaking. “When General
Tsing became my commander, he instructed me to look into the crimes of the Blue Spirit. He
was quite determined to find them and bring them to justice. I read reports and questioned a
lot of witnesses,” he said. He didn’t seem to want a response, and Shen didn’t bother
replying, instead focusing on seeing if he could get a feel for the locking mechanism on his
cuffs. He didn’t think Kazuma was a stupid or over confident man, and he was pretty sure he
knew what Shen was doing, but had chosen to ignore it because he knew it was fruitless. “I
built a profile of the criminal, physical attributes, potential targets and motives.”
“Yeah? And what were those?”

“Personal, I believe. They are someone that feels wronged by their quarry and attacks them
out of spite. Although some items stolen are perplexing, a lot of books and scrolls. As such, I
believe there is also a secondary motivation, although I am not sure exactly what it is. Most
of the items were connected to history or spiritual matters.”

“So if you were set the task of hunting the Blue Spirit, why are you bothering with me?”

Kazuma poured himself another cup of tea, and Shen felt his throat itch with thirst. He would
not ask though.

“Because I believe the war effort is more important than a vendetta against one person,
however much they have embarrassed you.” There was the slightest edge of a sneer under the
words.

So he didn’t like Tsing much either. Shen couldn’t argue with disliking Fire Nation
commanders, although he found it pretty funny a Fire Nation captain felt the same way. “I
assume Tsing doesn’t agree with you?”

“No, not for the most part. But he is involved with the action at Ba Sing Se, something your
troops are no doubt planning to interfere with.”

Shen said nothing. Kazuma hadn’t mentioned anything that was not already common
knowledge, but he was obviously observing closely in case Shen’s face gave anything away.

“Ba Sing Se is to refugees what a lamp is to a moth,” Kazuma continued, still watching
intently. “Even though General Tsing has taken out the ferries, they still come seeking
sanctuary. The city will not be able to sustain them if it is besieged again. It could get very
ugly.” He didn’t seem to be gloating, just stating an unfortunate fact.

“Yeah,” Shen said, curtly. “War tends to be, especially for the innocents who get in the way.”

Kazuma frowned slightly and stood. “My apologies Captain, would you like water?” he
asked. He didn’t wait for the obvious answer and brought Shen a jug and tin mug. Pouring for
him and leaving the cup on the ground while he carefully moved Shen’s shirt out of the way
of his hands so he could pick it up. Kazuma’s own hands were hot where they touched Shen’s
skin, and he flinched. Embarrassing, but Kazuma didn’t mention it as he sat himself back
down behind the low table.

Suddenly desperate to fill the silence, Shen asked the question that had occurred to him
during their previous conversation. “You refer to the Blue Spirit as they or them, not he.
Why’s that?”

Kazuma hummed in agreement, eyes flickering down to his own cup as he served himself
more tea. Shen thought he was heating it gently with one hand and he repressed a shudder.

“I had thought that perhaps the Blue Spirit was a woman,” Kazuma said, when satisfied with
the temperature of his cup.
“Oh? Why?” Funny that Haoyu had considered the same possibility. He felt a little sick at the
thought of him. They might have kept him alive, as an earthbender and being that he was so
young. But then again, they might have killed him for the same reasons.

If Kazuma saw any of his pain on his face, he kept it to himself. “The mask always stays the
same, as do the swords, and the almost supernatural ability to break into heavily guarded
areas. But the descriptions of the Blue Spirit’s size differ wildly. I found that most of the
people who described a man of six-foot or more were not credible to me. The general
consensus was of a far shorter stature.”

“That could still be a man. I know plenty of small men who are perfectly proficient with a
blade.”

Kazuma gave him a quick once over. “A man of your height might see most men as small,”
he said, almost lightly.

Shen resisted squirming, suddenly feeling exposed again. He had certainly been on the
receiving end of that look before, a glance of speculative interest, but never from an enemy,
and never while half dressed and bound hand and foot. And while he did not get the sort of
bad feeling he felt from Ro, it was still discomforting after the past twenty-four hours. He
said nothing and kept his face as relaxed as he could.

Kazuma leaned back a little. “I’m wondering if there is another option, though,” he mused.

“Another option?”

“One of the interesting things my investigation uncovered was that two years ago when the
raids started, the reported height was around five-foot. Now, it is closer to five-foot-five or
six.”

Shen raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. He had no doubt the man would continue, and he
was not disappointed.

“So it has now occurred to me that this disparity could be because of the Blue Spirit's age. A
teenager, still growing.” He paused before sending Shen a different sort of speculative glance.
“Two years ago, the boys Zhao is chasing would have been fourteen, would they not?”

Oh, that was where this was going? Shen wasn’t sure what to think about it. He had assumed
Ro’s claim had been pure nonsense made up on the fly, but what if he was actively spreading
that rumour? May as well put a bounty on the boys’ heads. “Yeah,” he agreed slowly. “But
are you really suggesting a fourteen-year-old could do the things the Blue Spirit is reported to
have done?” he asked, still testing out Kazuma’s commitment to the idea.

Even as he said it, he couldn’t shake the sudden doubt. Sokka was not skilled in the blade,
although he had a lot of promise. But he suspected Zuli was. The boy had chosen dual dao
from Fu’s weapons cache, and acted like he knew how to use them. If he trained with both his
blades, Shen had not seen him do it. When he taught Sokka, he used a single sword, in order
to provide an example for instruction. But those calluses on his hands told their own story.
Add to that, the fact he had an apparent hate for Tsing and Zhao that went back beyond the
recent unpleasantness. Both men had been repeated targets for the Blue Spirit. He fought to
keep his thoughts off his face, but it was a struggle with Kazuma watching him so closely.

Was it possible? The kid had training, he moved like he could fight. But he hadn’t actually
seen him in action except for when he was having a panic attack. The first time he had shown
inventiveness and quick reflexes to be sure, and the second time Shen had underestimated
him, been knocked off his feet before he could get to grips with him. He had been shockingly
strong, and he’d had the feeling if the kid had been in his right mind, he would have been a
formidable opponent despite his small stature.

He still couldn’t quite line it up in his mind, but he couldn’t discount it either. He could be. It
was possible. He cast his mind back, looking for any other evidence. Kazuma had said that
the Blue Spirit hunted the rivers and coasts. Shen had overheard Sokka telling Yuxuan and
Haoyu Zuli had been practically raised by sailors the past few years, when they had
commented on his foul mouth.

This theory could also line up with the crimes he had been alleged to have committed. Killing
the Fire Lord’s son being the obvious one. The Blue Spirit was not a killer, people might have
died on raids, sure, but he was not known to seek the death of his targets. However, Shen had
always suspected Zuli’s motives for some things he had admitted to doing were personal, not
political. Whatever Ozai’s spawn had done, he had paid for it, and the justice had been brutal.
Zuli didn’t seem to regret his actions, but he also did not want to discuss them and had
aggressively rebuffed questions from the troops after that rumour had spread.

Oh fuck. It was actually possible. Not even possible, likely. It certainly put the boy's
interaction with Haoyu into a different light. Sokka had found the whole thing hilarious. Shen
had thought it was because of Zuli’s awkward hero-worship, but it could be because he knew
Zuli was actually the person they were talking about.

He was suddenly very certain it was true. Fuck. Shen fought down his first and second
response to his own line of thinking and shook his head. “Neither boy is good enough with a
sword,” he said.

Kazuma was watching him intently, his honey brown eyes sharp and clever. “But you
considered it,” he said.

Shen grit his teeth. He had done his best to keep expression from his face, but he was
operating on little sleep, high stress and considerable pain. “Yeah, I considered it,” he said. “I
just assumed that the Blue Spirit was more than one person, the idea that the height disparity
could be because they are still growing had never occurred to me.” He chewed his lip for a
moment, looking up at the man through his lashes to try to gauge his reaction. “It would also
explain why Ro and Zhao were so interested in capturing or killing some random boy.” Some
truth to sell the lie. “I actually think the idea has merit in theory. But there are reasons it
makes little sense for either of these two boys. Hakoda’s kid was in his home village until
recently, and his weapon is a traditional Water Tribe boomerang. He is unskilled in the
blade.”

“And the other one? What’s his name?”

“Li,” Shen told him.

Kazuma gave him a look, and Shen grinned a little. “I know, common name. But it’s common
because it’s popular. Li is a mixed kid from the colonies, I think. He may have spent some
time on the mainland. Neither side has treated him well, and he has no particular love for
Earth or Fire. He might have the personality for it, but he doesn’t have the skill.” He shook
his head again. “The more I think about it, the less it makes sense to me it could be a kid of
either gender. They would have had to have been trained rigorously from a ridiculously
young age. But who would have taken the time and money to teach them?”

Who the fuck had trained Zuli, and why? There had to be some adult influence in there
somewhere. Had someone thought to train the kid as an assassin or something? Which side
had it been? He only ever went after the Fire Nation in his raids, although a few had been
reported in Earth Kingdom cities. They were mostly discounted from the mythos surrounding
the Blue Spirit because the items stolen were mostly…books and scrolls. There was another
motivation. What was the boy looking for?

“Hmm, I suppose that is true,” Kazuma said while Shen continued to grapple with the
slightly mind boggling conclusions he had just come to. He could still be wrong of course, it
could be a series of coincidences. His gut told him he was on the money, though.

Kazuma rose from his table and stepped towards the tent entrance. “It is growing late,
Captain. Perhaps we can continue this discussion tomorrow.”

“Not like I have anything else planned for the day.” Shen said, only half paying attention.

“I will have someone take you to your tent and bring you some rice.”

Shen didn’t feel much like eating, but he supposed he should keep his strength up, just in case
he could find some sort of opportunity to escape.

“Thank you, Captain Kazuma,” he said. He was pretty sure it was going to be a long and
sleepless night. In the unlikely event he survived long enough to see Zuli again, they were
going to need to have a very long conversation about a lot of things.

………………………..

Sokka rubbed his hands over his face. “Can we at least discuss it first? Tomorrow maybe?
After we have had more than an hour’s sleep?”

Zuko looked down his nose at him, a feat made easier by the fact he was still sitting on Sokka
like a big grumpy house cat. “No. Leaving is the only sensible thing to do, and it’s just going
to get harder if I wait. Either because we have to go on the boats for our own protection, or
because Huang wants to press forward with his plans.” Zuko seemed to be attempting to be
dominant and looming, using his elevated position as an advantage while Sokka was still flat
on his back. It wasn’t clear if he was aiming to appear aggressive or just assertive, but either
way, he was missing the mark. His voice and bearing were confident and combative, but
Sokka knew him well enough to see the fear lurking behind his eyes and in the tenseness of
his muscles.

“I understand the need to get out of this situation, and I support that, actually. But that’s not
what you’re thinking is it?” Sokka said, feeling every minute of the sleep he’d not had. “You
want to go after Shen.”

Zuko didn’t bother to deny it. “Even if Ro negotiates an exchange of prisoners with Huang,
he won’t stick to it. He’ll kill anyone he still has.” He shook his head, eyebrow furrowing in
thought. “But the likelihood is he doesn’t even have the prisoners anymore.”

Sokka shivered, mind flashing back to Yuxuan’s staring eyes and horrible wound. “You think
they’re already dead?”

“No.” Zuko fished a small object out of his pocket and passed it over. Sokka attempted to
wiggle into a more comfortable position so he could sit up to look in better light, but he was
still thoroughly trapped. Shoving at Zuko’s midsection did nothing but make him grunt and
scowl, even though he must know that Sokka wasn’t in the least bit intimidated. But he opted
to give up anyway and squinted at the little round disk in the dim torchlight. It was a metal
pin, not unlike the one they had used to pick the lock on the boat. But this one was embossed
with the image of a bird in flight, its wide tail sweeping out behind it. The golden metal was
still stained with soot. This was what Zuko had fished out of the pyre. Sokka shuddered and
felt a very urgent need to wash his hands, he didn’t want to think about where it had been. He
blinked away yet more sense memory and the smell of burnt flesh. He stared at the bird motif
again, fighting to focus. As he was unsure of its significance, he looked up at Zuko
questioningly.

“This is general Tsing’s insignia,” Zuko told him, voice a low growl. “We’re not far from Lao
Fort. If Ro took prisoners, Tsing would take them himself. He would never be able to resist
the opportunity to steal the glory from someone else, and that includes the first crack at any
intelligence they might have. It would be obvious to him that this company of soldiers will be
heading to Ba Sing Se. He will want to know their plans.” Zuko’s voice was laced with
disdain and barely restrained hate.

At some point, Sokka was going to have to extract the reason for Zuko’s intense dislike of the
man. But it could wait. There was another important factor at play here. “Tsing was the guy
Zhao said had...um...captured your uncle, wasn’t he?”

“You can say executed. I won’t fall apart because of a word.”

No, but he might if they found actual evidence of Iroh’s death. Denial seemed to be Zuko’s
natural state, but he would have to accept independent information. “It’s him, though?”
Sokka prompted.

“Yeah.” Tough words or not, Zuko swallowed anxiously, his face falling into a grimace as he
forced himself to think about it. “Way I see it, there are two options. Possibly Zhao was lying,
and he used Tsing as the man who...did it, because he knows we have history. A bit of extra
salt for the wound.”

That did sound like something Zhao would do, to be honest. “And the other?”

“He was telling the truth and Tsing captured my uncle. If that’s the case, I need to find out
what happened and who gave what orders.”

And then he was going to kill them. Reluctance towards murder or not, there were some
things that were not forgivable, and would not be allowed to stand. Sokka could empathise
with that, and would do his best to help, if it turned out Mutton Chops had been telling the
truth.

It made Sokka wonder if Iroh’s death would be the thing to tip the scales, if that would be
what finally made Zuko turn against his father. He hoped it wasn’t, hoped his uncle was still
alive somewhere, he didn’t want his friend to lose one of the few people who seemed to care
for him. He sighed and pushed himself up on his elbows a bit. “So your plan is to leave and
head to Tsing’s fortress?”

“Yes.”

“Now?”

“Yes. The longer I wait, the more danger I put you and your father in. He and his people have
been kind to me, too. I don’t want them to be hurt.”

Not much chance of that considering the whole war thing, but Sokka kept his thoughts behind
his teeth. Zuko worrying about Water Tribe folk was a move in the right direction, and he
wasn’t going to complicate it with another argument. Not yet. Sokka needed to think things
through and Zuko was practically vibrating with tension, which could spark him off into
doing something stupid, like storming out of camp with no supplies and no actual plan other
than ‘I’m leaving’. Sokka would like to avoid that if at all possible.

“Okay, it makes sense,” he said. Zuko clearly thought he would stay with his dad, but Sokka
knew that was not his path. It was going to be hard to take the first step, though. The thought
of leaving the relative safety of the camp was terrifying. But he had to admit that there was a
part of him that wanted to get moving. He often woke in a cold sweat thinking of his sister
out there alone. Okay, so she also had the Avatar, who was arguably one of, if not the, most
powerful person in the world. But he was also twelve, had a tendency to get distracted by fun
and games and was far too...nice.

Sokka wanted to see them again. Wanted to make sure Katara was okay. He had no illusions
about her ability to look after herself, he knew she was a force to be reckoned with, but he
was her big brother. She was his responsibility. He needed to be with her, and he missed her.
Missed her more than he could have ever thought possible.

But that said, even though he knew he would have to leave eventually, the idea honestly
scared the crap out of him. It frightened him in a way that made his breath come quicker and
his teeth clench.
There were good reasons for him to go with Zuko, aside from the fact that he would quite
like to keep him alive, and he had no faith the moron would manage that without supervision.
But he did also have an ulterior motive to go along with his friend’s desire to go after Tsing
again. The general sounded like an opportunist, someone always on the lookout for their next
chance at glory. He would probably collect information on the war and any threats to the Fire
Nation. Like the Avatar.

The other option Sokka had coincided, was heading to Ba Sing Se. There must be all sorts of
information entering a city of the size it was said to be. Of course, there was also going to be
a battle there, so Tsing sounded like a better bet right now. It could give him a starting point.

“We can get the things we need from the 54th’s tents,” he said, still trying to convince
himself this was the correct step forward, and that it wasn’t a better idea to just hide under his
covers, warm and safe.

“Things? You want us to steal from the dead?” Zuko sounded utterly scandalised.

“It’s not like they’re going to be using their stuff. Not to mention, half of them might still be
alive, and we are going to rescue them,” Sokka pointed out. He didn’t much like the idea of
taking things that belonged to the men that had been so kind to them, but it wasn’t like he
could go ask Huang. His dad could provide for them of course, but it might get him in trouble
with the general, as he would have to procure items from other Water Tribe soldiers. Rumour
would eventually spread.

“We?” Zuko asked. He had a surprised and hopeful expression on his face, but it kept trying
to morph into something frowny. “Sokka, you should stay with your father. Ro will follow
me.”

“He might not, he wants me too, to use against Aang. And my dad, I suppose.”

Zuko’s face finally settled on a full scowl. “Yeah, but he and Zhao are both screwed if they
don’t capture me. If we split up, he’ll follow where I go, trust me. They’re watching the camp
closely.” He took a few deep breaths, his own fear suddenly very obvious on his face. “It’s
going to be a race. I’ll find a way to gain enough time to get out in front. I don’t think he will
expect me to head for Tsing, it might give me a small advantage if I can be sneaky, but he
will work it out, eventually. And then he will be coming for me.”

“You’re not making a good case for me staying.”

“I think that was a pretty good argument, Sokka!” Zuko’s nostrils flared, and he glared one of
his good, angry glares.

“Look, the two of us together will do better, live longer,” Sokka said with as much calm
authority as he could put into his voice. But even as he said it, another wave of fear hit him.
The thought of being out there, without his father, without these soldiers standing between
them and Ro was terrifying. It was beyond fighting. He didn’t like to think of himself as
spineless, but he couldn’t help it.
It did make him think back to the conversation that they’d had only hours before, when Zuko
seemed so angrily convinced of his own cowardice. And yet here he was plotting to launch a
one man rescue operation. Zuko was many very frustrating things, but fainthearted was not
one of them. Not wanting to hand yourself over to certain torture and death was sensible, not
cowardly. But then he had been raised with strange ideas about honour, and despite being a
prince, seemed to have terrible ideas about his own self worth, while also somehow
maintaining a certain level of entitlement and arrogance.

“That may be so, but why risk it? Your people are here.” Zuko was still arguing, even though
he clearly wanted Sokka to come with him. That hopeful, longing look when he had first
realised Sokka was considering it had been very telling.

Sokka needed to give him an argument he would understand rather than trying to verbalize
the complicated mess of emotion stirring in his gut every time he thought about the idea of
splitting up. And without bringing the Avatar into it, because that was a discussion for
another day.

“Do you think you are the only one that owes the 54th?” he asked. “They also took me in, fed
and clothed me. What happened to them is not our fault, it’s Ro’s and to some extent,
Huang’s. But the fact is, it happened because we’re here. If we had not run into them, they
would not have been captured. I want to make it right as much as you do.” All true, other
motives notwithstanding.

Zuko sat back on Sokka’s thighs to think that over. Sokka winced a little at the shift in
weight. It was shocking how Zuko had gone from someone who was so awkward with
physical contact between them, to someone who was so completely at ease with it he didn’t
even seem to notice anymore.

Sokka was aware that he hadn’t made much of an argument, but what he had made was
something that Zuko could understand at a base level.

“If you’re sure?” Zuko said.

And he had him, that easy. “I am.”

Zuko nodded. “Okay. What will we need?” He screwed his face up, clearly still upset at the
plan to take what they required from the empty tents, but he didn’t object.

“Well, first, I need you to get off me. I am going to need my legs, and there is currently no
blood flow getting past your heavy backside.”

Zuko looked mildly offended, but he shifted himself off Sokka and back onto the bedroll,
now he didn’t feel the need to be physically imposing. Sokka took the opportunity to try to
rub some life back into his limbs. Then he scrubbed his tired eyes. He wished they could
have had just a few more hours’ sleep before having to make momentous decisions or do
important tasks. “We’re going to need some changes of clothes, Earth Kingdom stuff for me,
I guess. You have what Shen gave you. And we will need money, food, a tent and a bedroll.”
“Okay,” Zuko said reluctantly. He still seemed disturbed and a little pained. Sokka suspected
there was another cultural difference here, how you honoured—or disrespected the dead.
Zuko had said a prayer for Yuxuan, but he had said one for Chen too, even though he clearly
hated the man. Zuko’s reluctance to take the items belonging to the dead might be more than
squeamishness. “Tell you what, I think you should go look through Shen’s stuff. Take his
money. If we rescue him, we can give it back rather than have it divided among Huang’s
men, or going into the general’s pocket.” And if he was dead, he would not be missing it.
“You find any personal stuff of his, then take it, we’ll give it to my dad to keep safe.”

Zuko nodded, apparently accepting this plan. “You’re going to tell your dad we’re going? I
was sort of thinking we would just sneak out.”

“I’m still weighing it up,” Sokka admitted. “But if we leave without seeing him, I’ll have to
write a note, so we can leave the stuff here.”

“Alright. I’ll look for a tent and some dried food.”

Sokka had a sudden rush of almost dizzying panic. Food. What if they ran out? There was
only so much they could carry. He could hunt, he had his book of earth kingdom plants. But
some animal part of his brain remembered what it felt like to starve, and it made his stomach
clench with remembered pain and fear.

“Okay?” Zuko asked. It wasn’t clear if he was asking if Sokka was okay, or if he was asking
if his plan was acceptable.

“Yeah. Let’s go,” Sokka managed, fighting down another wave of panicky emotion and the
phantom taste of dusty ship’s biscuit on his tongue.

After some internal debate, Sokka made his way to Haoyu and Yuxuan’s tent first. It was the
last place he wanted to be, but if he was looking for clothes, Haoyu was the closest to his
size, although he was still going to be swimming in them. He suspected that at least some of
the things that Shen had given Zuko were Haoyu’s cast offs. He paused in the entrance way.
Neither soldier had much stuff, personal items were limited to what you could carry, but there
was something of their personalities in the way things were strewn around Yuxuan’s side, and
placed into semi orderly piles on Haoyu’s.

It felt wrong to be going through their things. More wrong than he had thought it would. But
he consoled himself that if Haoyu was still alive, they would rescue him, and then his dad
could give him back his personal effects, having kept them safe from redistribution. He
briefly debated with himself about Yuxuan’s stuff, but he thought perhaps Haoyu should have
the choice of what to do with it, as they had been close. Sokka didn’t know if Yuxuan had any
living family, but perhaps some things could be returned to them if so.

The whole exercise was depressing, and he was tired and miserable as he headed back to
meet Zuko. He found him sorting through his own pile of pilfered clothes. He had chosen
dark coloured items, black, deep forest green or brown.

Sokka added his own finds. He didn’t tell Zuko which tent they had come from. But he held
out his bag of personal items carefully. “More stuff for my dad.” Zuko nodded to a small sack
on their bedroll. No doubt whatever he had taken from Shen’s tent.

Zuko seemed to have made some organised stacks of objects. Small packets of rice and
grains for bulking out soup, some dried meats and some square cake things that looked
upsettingly like hard tack. Sokka sat cross-legged and watched him.

“We can take our own bedroll, but this tent is too big,” Zuko told him. “We may need to
travel on foot at some point, so we need to be sure we can carry what we need.”

Sokka made a face. “We’re going to take the Dumpling, though, right?”

“Yes, but we don’t know how things will play out, we need to plan for all eventualities.”

Sokka snorted. “Zuko, you are the guy that swam under sea ice without knowing if there was
anywhere to come up for air. I am the guy that likes to parallel plan. You are speaking to the
converted. I just don’t fancy dragging stuff across the Earth Kingdom on foot when we have
a perfectly good tiger shark masquerading as an ostrich horse to put it on.”

“Hopefully we won’t have to, but we should consider our options, just in case.” Zuko shoved
over a green cloth bundle. “This is a tent, it’s a three person field one, made for camping
rather than living, like this one is.” He pointed at the ceiling. Their tent was large enough to
stand in comfortably and was far too big to carry. “It’s probably not very warm, but I can heat
it, and it’s light and folds down well.”

He was selling it a little hard, and Sokka looked at it suspiciously. “What’s wrong with it?”

Zuko made an annoyed face. “It got a little slashed up in the fighting. But we can sew it. It’s
the only one I could find that we could realistically carry on foot.”

Sokka spared a moment from his constant low-level panic to wonder if Zuko could sew. He
had been out in the world a long time, sure. But did he have to darn his own socks? Nope,
Sokka would bet all the money he had ever seen, Zuko had never sewn up his own clothes.
Was he expecting Sokka to do it? Or did he just think he could figure it out?

He eyed Zuko critically. He had set the tent aside and was busy ordering the food. Now he
had his mission set in his mind he seemed completely focused, the air practically crackled
with determination. It was strangely reassuring to see that aspect of his personality back in
full force, and it was going to be interesting to be operating alongside it, rather than against.
Speaking of which…

“I thought we might want to bring this,” he said, as he chucked Haoyu’s Blue Spirit masks
onto the pile. They landed on the paper packets with a light crunching noise, and a few rice
grains escaped from beneath them.

Zuko looked up from what he was doing, his eyes a little wide.

“I was just thinking,” Sokka said. “If we’re going to raid Lao River Fort, we should let Zhao
know who's doing it. He’s probably hoping we’re dead, or running somewhere to go to
ground. Let’s let him know we are not just still alive, we’re alive and we’re fucking coming
for him.”

Zuko stared at him for a second, before his face split into a fox-like grin. “He’ll hear about it.
Especially if we make the raid…memorable.”

“Yeah,” Sokka agreed, marvelling at the expression on Zuko’s face. It really did change his
whole countenance when he smiled, even when it was a mean one. “Let’s do that. It will be a
balm for the soul while we are running for our lives again, to imagine him waking in a cold
sweat worrying about when we’re going to pop up and expose his lies.”

Zuko nodded, his eyes fierce. “We may have to run and hide, but we can still fuck him over
while we do it.”

“Team Steam.”

“No, Sokka,” Zuko grumped and Sokka grinned.

He slipped into the tent, surprised to see his dad still awake, sitting drinking tea with Bato.
They both turned to look at him, solemn and unsurprised.

“Sokka.”

“Hey, dad,” There was something heavy and tense in his father’s face. It was like he already
knew.

They stared at each other for a long moment before Zuko shoved him hard in the back. “Can
you go inside? I’m stuck standing out here and the idea was not to attract attention?” he
snarled.

“Stop pushing me!” Sokka shot back, aware he sounded like a five-year-old. But Zuko was
right, and he moved into the tent, going to sit by his father. Zuko followed and stood behind
him like a disgruntled bodyguard. Everything Sokka wanted to say seemed to have flown
from his mind.

Wordlessly, his father handed him a cup of steaming tea. Then he looked up at Zuko. “Would
you like some, Li?”

“No,” Zuko said shortly. There was a worrying edge of aggression in his voice that took
Sokka by surprise. His anxiety seemed to have gone through the roof since entering the tent,
and being the only person standing was giving off a certain amount of threat. Hakoda nodded
and remained calm, although Sokka could feel the tension in the air. Bato was also
maintaining a nonchalant demeanour, but he was clearly feeling the sudden stress as well, and
was watching carefully, one hand leaning casually on the ground, very close to where his belt
knife was lying.
Confused and a little concerned, Sokka hunted for the right thing to say to defuse the sudden
situation. He had not been prepared for Zuko to react like this, the guy was practically
radiating anxiety and aggression. It wouldn’t have been an issue if Sokka’s dad still thought
he was just dealing with a grumpy teenager, but he and Bato knew he could firebend and that
was going to make them more…jumpy.

His dad shuffled a little, turning so he was fully facing Sokka and Zuko’s tension rose further.
He seemed to be shifting his weight like he was planning to move, edging so his boot was
pressed against Sokka’s thigh. Sokka flailed internally for a moment before he had a sudden
insight into what could be causing this reaction.

This discussion, if it did not go in their favour, would result in Sokka challenging his dad’s
authority. Not just as his father, but as his chief, the leader of his village and his people. In
Zuko’s experience, this would probably end very badly. He wanted to protect Sokka, and was
again trying to be as physically threatening as he could be—he didn’t seem to know how else
to achieve the desired results. That made Sokka feel warm and squishy inside, but also made
his heart hurt a little. However, that knowledge gave him a solution to the situation without
having to resort to awkward explanations. He leaned over and hugged his father as hard as he
could. Hakoda grunted in surprise, but then hugged him back, arms a warm, firm band
around his body, his face pushed into Sokka’s hair.

“We have to go, dad,” he said, and was embarrassed to find tears pricking the inside of his
eyes. He wished so hard he could stay safe like this, held like this. He could, if he wanted. He
knew whatever his own anger and complicated feelings, his dad wanted to make it up with
him, he wanted their relationship to be mended, and Sokka did too. He really did.

“I know,” his dad said, as he reached a hand up to run through the short hair on the back of
his head, his fingers felt strangely cool on his scalp, he was so used to the touch of Zuko’s
heat.

Sokka wasn’t expecting that kind of acceptance or the amount of pain and fear in his father’s
voice. He held him tighter.

Hakoda drew back and touched his face gently. “I knew when you left the tent earlier. And I
knew I was going to have to let you go.” He drew in a deep breath. “Find your sister, take
care of her. Help the Avatar.” He dropped his hand and picked up his tea, it shook slightly in
his grip. Sokka realised his father was assuming that they would be going after Aang, and not
planning a completely crazy rescue mission. But he supposed it didn’t really matter when it
came to it. In fact, not letting him know that part of the plan might be better in the long run,
and probably make him worry less.

Hakoda looked up at Zuko, and smiled at him with a certain amount of warmth, although it
looked slightly forced to Sokka. “Sit down, Li, have some tea. Tell me what you boys need.”

Zuko remained standing, vibrating slightly with all the built up tension, but then he sank into
a seiza next to Sokka and stared at Hakoda attentively. His breath was coming a little hard,
but the air in the room felt a lot less like it was about to combust. Score one for Sokka’s
amazing intuition, shame it had not arrived a little earlier, but then, he had a feeling that
seeing with his own eyes that Hakoda and Sokka were okay was the only way Zuko would
accept it.

Keeping a close eye on them, Bato poured another cup of tea and handed it to Zuko. “I like
this one,” he said.

Zuko sipped it but didn’t comment, staring into his cup like he could find some solace there.

“What do you need?” Hakoda promoted again, voice quiet.

“We have most of it. We took some things from the 54th. There’s some stuff that belongs to
some of them in our tent, can you look after it? In case they come back?” By the look on his
dad’s face, he didn’t think it was likely. But then, he had never had to deal with Zuko in a real
determined mood before. Sokka figured their chances were not nearly as bad as they should
be, especially if he could make a plan and temper Zuko’s usual tactic of just hurling himself
at the problem until it gave up. Together, they might have a chance. And if not, well, it was
only a matter of time before something got them, and he would accept death. So long as it
didn’t come from Ro or Zhao.

Bato leaned back and dragged a saddle bag over. “Your dad had a suspicion this might be the
way things were heading, so we put together some useful items for you, if you’ll have them?”

Feeling close to tears again. Sokka reached for the bag and clutched it tight to his chest.
“Thanks. I’ll take it. We could also maybe use a small distraction? Nothing big, but
something that could draw the Fire Nation’s eyes away from where we’ll leave.”

“And where will that be?” Bato asked.

Zuko put his tea down. “There is a bigger gap between the sentries to the west. There’s some
tree cover too. We can make it through.”

“And how do you know that, Li?” Sokka asked suspiciously. How long had he been planning
to leave? Why hadn’t he mentioned it? If he had gone without talking to him first, Sokka
would have hunted him down and beaten him to death. Arsehole.

Zuko looked at him from the corner of his eye, like he was aware he was treading on
dangerous ground. “I thought the general might not let me go to the village, so I looked at
ways out of the camp without being noticed,” he said.

“Uh huh.”

Zuko gave him an annoyed, pinchy faced look and rose to his feet with the sort of effortless
grace Sokka could only dream of. He looked as tired as Sokka felt, but he moved with the
same brutal efficiency he always did.

“I will pack the rest of our things,” Zuko said, even though they were already packed. He was
clearly trying to give Sokka some privacy to say a last goodbye to his dad, now that he didn’t
think there would be a confrontation.
“Li.” Hakoda didn’t rise, or offer a hug or arm-clasp. Zuko was giving off strong ‘don’t touch
me’ vibes, so physical contact would be a bad choice. Besides they were all still a little
twitchy. “Please look after yourself.” He paused and looked at Zuko earnestly. “Before he
left, Shen asked me to get you out of the camp, which I would have done.”

Asking that of him was pretty close to insubordination, or worse. And from the rigid, pained
expression on Zuko’s face, he knew it too.

“Even though you might not see him again, I think it’s best you know he cared for you,
enough to request that of me.”

Zuko nodded stiffly. “Thank you.” He took some deep breaths and bowed from the waist, his
hands clenching as he resisted making the sign of the flame. When he straightened, he held
Hakoda’s eyes. “Thank you for everything you have done, Chief Hakoda. I won’t forget it.
And I am…sorry for the trouble my presence has caused.”

“There is nothing to apologise for, and as for thanks, you help keep my son alive and I will be
forever in your debt.”

Zuko didn’t really look like he knew what to do with that, but he nodded. He bowed again,
just briefly, once to Hakoda and once to Bato, and then he slipped from the tent.

Hakoda let out a breath. “Spirits, I thought he was going to lose it. What was that about?” he
asked.

Bato also looked wound up, his eyes a little wide now the danger had passed. They had been
genuinely afraid. Sokka mentally kicked himself for not thinking this through properly. It had
been so long since he’d had any fear of Zuko or his bending, he sort of forgot that for his
father, even being that close to a firebender was probably unsettling at best and terrifying at
worst. The whole situation could have been avoided if he had thought to speak to Zuko first,
to reinforce the idea his father wouldn’t harm him. He was usually better than this, it was his
responsibility to mediate between them and to keep everyone safe, and he had nearly let it
blow up in their faces because of his inattention.

“My fault,” he said, a little gruff with shame. “I think he was afraid of me challenging you.
He was gearing up to protect me. Unnecessarily, obviously. I should have spoken to him first.
I think, uh, I think he may have had some bad experiences in the past with authority figures.”

“That is what it looked like, so I thought as long as we didn’t make any sudden moves, we
would be okay. It’s not your fault, these things happen, and there was no harm done.” Hakoda
reached out a hand to grasp Sokka’s shoulder. “Are you sure about this?”

“I am. Well, I’m crapping my pants, but we can’t stay here forever, I wish we could remain
longer, but the situation will just get worse. We need to go.”

His dad nodded. “Stay a while, and have some more tea?” He asked, warm and comforting.

“I would like that,” Sokka said honestly. “Thanks.”

The tent was almost unpleasantly warm when Sokka got back, a very obvious sign of Zuko’s
distress. He had clearly been fretting for the whole hour Sokka had been gone.

“Well?” Zuko snapped at him as soon as he made it through the tent flap.

“Bato’s going to try a little arson to the east of us, nothing big enough to cause any alarm,
just a knocked over lantern that catches a few tents on fire. Should be enough to draw eyes
while we get out. We need to be ready.” Sokka put the bag his dad had given him down
carefully. Zuko had left the 54th’s things where their bedroll used to be. The roll itself was
now tightly bound and stashed by their collection of packs and saddlebags.

Zuko let out a shaky breath. “I thought maybe they would have tried to stop you.”

“Me too, at first. But I suspect he thinks we might have a better chance out there than we
would fighting for Ba Sing Se.” Something that terrified him. His dad was an amazing
warrior, and a fantastic tactician, but they were likely to be fighting a considerable force
when they reached the city. It horrified him this might be the last time he saw his dad and
Bato. At least they’d had a proper goodbye. Things were not how they should have been
between them, but the love was there, and they all knew that, at least. “We need to be ready
to leave soon.”

Zuko nodded. “Get changed.” He pointed to clothes he had laid out, all nondescript greens
and browns.

Sokka put them on quickly. He debated leaving his Water Tribe blues, but decided to keep
them in the vain hope that he might survive the next few days or weeks, and come to a point
he could wear his own people’s clothes again. Stuffing them into the already full bags wasn’t
fun, but Zuko didn’t stop him. Perhaps he understood.

Everything packed and ready, they stared at each other for a moment. Sokka shifted
uncomfortably. “I’m sorry for not talking to you before we saw my dad. I don’t know what I
was thinking. He wouldn’t hurt me. He barely even raised his voice to us growing up, except
when we frightened him by doing something stupid like falling through thin ice or when I
nearly suffocated my sister because I made her sit in my snow tower and it collapsed on her.”
He shrugged awkwardly as Zuko blinked at him in apparent confusion. “I’m just saying I
should have approached that differently. I was thoughtless.”

Zuko snorted roughly. “Sokka, you’ve had an hour’s sleep after a very stressful few days. Not
thinking straight is part of the territory.”

“But-”

“No buts. Also…” Now it was Zuko’s turn to look uncomfortable. “Also, I don’t think your
words would have made any difference.” He lowered his gaze at that admission.
Sokka let out a breath. Being right about something did not always make him feel great about
it. “Okay. We’re both pretty wound up and tired. We can worry about it later. We have about
ten minutes.”

He was surprised enough to jump when Zuko stepped forward and dragged him into a solid
and somewhat constricting hug. He was fiery hot where their skin touched, but he seemed
much calmer than he had been, although he was squeezing so tightly Sokka was struggling to
breathe properly. He returned the hug as firmly as he could. “Are you scared?” he asked
quietly.

“No,” Zuko replied immediately and Sokka held back a smile, giving his friend a moment to
move past the reflexive denial. “Yeah,” Zuko admitted after a few seconds. “Yeah, I am.”
Strangely, he relaxed a little against Sokka’s body with the admission.

He thought he could understand that, actually. The relief of not having to put up a front, of
not hiding or pretending around someone. Because what was the point when that person had
seen your emotional guts ripped out and laid bare? When they had seen the worst of you, the
open wounds you couldn’t hold closed? It was weird and freeing, and the wild rush of
emotion that tangled in Sokka’s chest made him feel like he was trembling on the edge of a
precipice. “I’m fucking terrified,” he admitted, his voice a little creaky with all the feeling
behind it. Spirits, but he was tired.

Zuko chuckled, a charmingly rusty sound. “Me too.”

The feel of his solid presence was warm and grounding and Sokka relaxed into the hold,
feeling himself drift for a few blissful moments, until he felt Zuko shudder against him. He
realised his lips were pressed to the skin of Zuko’s neck and he pulled back, feeling both
embarrassed and guilty. He hadn’t meant anything by it, but it felt staggeringly inappropriate.

Zuko didn’t seem bothered. He slid a hand around the back of Sokka’s skull, callused fingers
rough against his skin, and tugged him in again, leaning their foreheads together.

Zuko’s breathing was a little ragged. Perhaps he hadn’t actually noticed, and had just been
riding the same emotional tide Sokka had been. They were both clearly frightened by what
lay ahead, and both just as determined. “Are we really going to do this?” Sokka asked. It was
more of a question for the universe than for Zuko.

“I am,” Zuko said with no hesitation. “There’s no shame if you choose not to.”

Sokka took one breath and then another. He had stood alone against that incoming Fire
Nation ship, Zuko’s ship, and he had been sure he was going to die. He had gone on the stupid
mission in the North Pole, knowing that the probability of coming back was not high.
Somehow, neither was as scary as the prospect of Ro getting hands on him again, or on Zuko.
It was a deep, almost primal terror.

But he was stronger than his fear. He had to be, otherwise he would spend the rest of the war
cowering behind his father’s legs like a child. “I’m committed too.” He pushed back, holding
Zuko at arm’s length with a hand on each shoulder. “We go now. Me, you and Dumpling.”
 Zuko snorted, a little smile curling his lip. “Alright. Ready?”

“Ready.”

Chapter End Notes

Next chapter: Shen wonders if he has been hit with a very specific and perplexing curse,
Sokka is laid low by the shrapnel of Zuko’s unexpected trauma bombing and Azula
starts to see the shape of her fathers plans.

And she is not here for it.

At all.
 Chapter 14
Chapter Summary

“You can stay here and complain to Dumpling about it.”

Chapter Notes

Serious warnings for this one, folks! Please read carefully!

Discussion of non-con – including some detail of events (not overly graphic, but not
subtle either) including forced orgasm and resulting confusion and guilt. Some mild
victim blamey thoughts, some implied internalised homophobia.
Teenagers thinking about sex and sexuality. Discussion around Zuko’s scar including
some unpleasant words and views. Mention of character death, brief mention of animal
death, thoughts of the possibility of vaguely dub-con sex. Horrible angst, sorry (not
really sorry)

Many thanks to my beta burkesl17, who has managed to wrangle my dyslexic nonsense.
All mistakes are my own.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The drill was nearly finished. Now Azula was overseeing the project, it was bound to go
well. Then, even though she had thus far not succeeded in achieving her father’s tasks, she
would at least take Ba Sing Se. If she managed what all others had failed to do, it would
surely prove her loyalty and usefulness. She could still turn things around.

Mai and Ty Lee had watched avidly as she had shown them the detailed schematics for the
machine, and listened to her go over her plans for taking the city. But even their attention
wasn’t helping to settle her. This was a good plan, a good idea. But she couldn’t shake the
feeling that it would not be enough.

“Your Highness?” One of the few guards she allowed to attend her entered the tent, bowing
low and keeping his eyes politely down. “A…messenger has arrived for you from Caldera.”

Something in her chest twisted a little. She hated these feelings of vulnerability and anxiety.
Zuko was anxious, their mother had been, not her. “Send them in,” she said coolly. Mai
shifted slightly in her seat, so while still appearing to be lounging causally, she had better
access to the weapons in her long sleeves. It was good to know that someone still
acknowledged Azula’s place in the scheme of things and would die to protect her. Not that it
would be necessary. There was only one man she feared. And he was back home in the
palace.

“Your Highness!” The girl that burst into the room was dishevelled and dirty. It was her maid,
Hua, who she had sent home weeks ago. She dropped to her knees and pressed her forehead
to the floor. On closer inspection, her long hair looked like a section had been burnt away, the
singed remains braided and pinned as best as could be done with it.

“Leave us,” Azula told the guard, he bowed as he left the tent, but she couldn’t trust what she
couldn’t see. She gestured to Ty Lee to follow, to make doubly sure there were no ears
waiting to report back to her father.

“Why have you returned? I sent you home to spy for me,” Azula said bluntly. The girl
remained prostrate on the floor. Azula resisted the urge to nudge her upright with the toe of
her boot. “Speak clearly.”

The girl jerked a little, pushing herself up so she could be heard properly. “I did as you asked,
Your Highness. But…” she broke off and glanced up.

Had the stupid girl gotten caught? Azula had thought her up to the task, and she was rarely
wrong about these things.

There was a wild look in Hua’s eyes. “I am only hours ahead of your father’s men. They are
coming to escort you home.”

Azula’s stomach clenched, and a horrible feeling washed over her. “Why?” she asked. Her
voice slipped to a glacial temperature without her permission. The girl’s eyes widened in fear
at the tone.

“I don’t know, Your Highness. I tried to find out. The order came from him, but he has been
speaking to the Fire Sages again. I learned what I could, but I had to run, I barely made it out.
I came to you because I needed to warn you, and to throw myself and my family at your
mercy.”

There was clearly a lot more to this story. “My mercy?” she asked, voice cool like silk.

Hua nodded, her eyes filling with tears. “My father has been executed for treason, but we are
not...I mean…” She looked up fearfully, but then her face hardened slightly. “He wasn’t. No
matter what they say, he was loyal to you, as am I, and my mother and brother. We are
yours.”

It angered her to hear confirmation of Taiju’s death. Although he had predicted it in his letter,
and she had known his fate was sealed if his actions had been traced back to him. But he was
hers. She didn’t like it when people took liberties with things and people that were hers.

With an effort, she softened her voice a touch and kept the anger off her face. “Tell me.”
“The first I knew of it was when they came for us. My mother was taken from our home.
She’ll die without her medicine, an injury to her lungs she got protecting-” she cut herself off
with a snap of her teeth. Dangerous to bring up Ursa. Hua glanced up at Azula cautiously
before continuing. “They burnt my house. I barely escaped. I went to get to my brother, but
his friends told me he’s being sent to the front. He’s only fifteen! He just finished basic
training a few months ago, same as me. There’s no way he can fight!” She dropped her face
to the floor. “I’ll do anything, please, Your Highness. Please help them!”

Strange that her mother had almost died protecting Azula’s mother. An odd turn of events
that now brought their daughters together in such a way. She didn’t consider it a debt. She
paid for the woman’s medicine, same as Ursa had. But unlike her, she didn't do it in thanks,
but rather to preserve the family’s loyalty. Zhao executing the father and having the mother
arrested felt like a waste of her efforts.

Hua was nothing special. Azula had looked into her when she realised she could be useful.
Like her mother before her, she had become one of the royal maids straight out of military
training, and was of course, learning to fight. Everyone aged fourteen to sixteen joined
mandatory cadet training. Some, like Hua got to train on the job and then continued in their
chosen field. Benders and anyone who showed any kind of skill then went into the army to
train further until they reached their majority and went to fight. Hua was capable, but not
exceptional. This was the best option for her, and she would continue to learn as she served.
She was unlikely to ever see combat unless Azula sent her into it, or an assassin brought the
battle to them.

Hua’s brother would not have that luxury, he could bend, and therefore he would fight.
According to his records, he had moderate power but little desire to use it. He was timid with
his fire, and his teachers scorned him. As such, he was destined to be cannon fodder—but it
was unfortunate that it should happen now, wasteful. The common folk were not trained like
she was, they were not expected to fight so young.

The Earth Kingdom did that, sent out boys barely old enough to hold a sword to be
slaughtered. It was an ugly thing, distasteful no matter which side did it. She didn’t like it.
Sacrificing troops was par for the course when fighting a war. She accepted that, expected
and encouraged it. They would die with honour, laying down their lives for their nation,
which was better than many got to do. However, sending untrained children just to die as a
punishment for a dead man’s crime was wasteful and stupid.

She hated stupid.

“Calm yourself,” she told the girl. “Answer my questions honestly. Your family has been
taken, what of you? How are you here? Answer me that first.”

Hua’s eyes shut, moving behind her closed lids like she was seeing the scene before her. “I
arrived just after they took my mother. They were looking for me. Your father will have me
killed because of my father’s…” she broke off, and again Azula saw that flash of defiance on
her face. “Of my father’s presumed treachery.”

Azula felt the strange experience of two conflicting emotions. The desire to burn the girl for
her insolence, for daring to look into Azula’s eyes with that kind of resistance. And also a
little thrill of vindication. It was that strength of conviction and a loyalty that transcended
common sense that made the girl interesting and potentially useful. Azula just had to make
sure it was directed correctly, and that the person Hua was loyal to was her, and her alone.

Learning to deal with her mother’s spy network had been hard at first. Being cruel and
terrifying had not been enough. She learned she had to be less of her father and more of her
mother, which was…distasteful. But it had opened up possibilities of dealing with people that
had been closed to her and offered a new and thrilling type of power.

“And your father? What do you know of what transpired?” she asked, voice low.

Hua shook her head, frazzled braid swinging. “I know nothing. Or, only rumours. I overheard
two of the soldiers who came for me talking when I hid. Zhao’s men. They said he had
released a Water Tribe savage, a prisoner. That’s all I know. And I’m sure it’s a lie, something
to discredit him. He would never have betrayed you! He loved you and your mother.” The
girl trembled where she knelt.

Azula fought down familiar, reflexive anger at the further mention of her mother, the woman
was haunting her today. It was true they loved Azula because of Ursa and that rankled, but it
was a love she could harness and use. It would be foolish to make a misstep here because of
her pride or petty anger. It was delicate, but she could make this work for her, she just had to
avoid emotional reactions.

“You are loyal,” she said, like she was offering a gift, and the girl’s eyes shone like she had
received one. “Your father was too. I do not believe the slander.”

Hua looked so grateful, it was almost a pity to ruin it. But making promises you couldn’t
keep was no good for long-term manipulation. People grew resentful. However, strangely,
they preferred honesty, even if it was not what they wanted to hear—so long as you delivered
it correctly. Dealing with people felt like one of Uncle’s Pai Sho games. Once you learned the
rules, the board could be yours, but you could never grow complacent, that would lead to
mistakes.

“Unfortunately, I do not think there is much I can do for your mother,” she said, letting her
voice soften further. But not with an overabundance of pity, that would not help either of
them. Predictably, the girl’s eyes brimmed with tears, but she did nothing other than tighten
her fists where they lay on the mat. “But if I can, I will. I only say this because I do not want
to give you false hope. I can’t and won’t go against my father’s orders.” Hua nodded slightly,
understanding.

“Thank you.” Hua touched her forehead to the floor again.

“As for your brother, I will see what I can do. If he has not yet been deployed, I might be able
to have him reassigned. But I can’t promise I will be successful, just that I will try.”

Hua dipped back into a bow, once, twice. “Thank you, I will be forever in your debt.”

Yes, she would. “These men that my father has sent, do they know your face?”
“No, I don’t think so. It was Zhao’s men that broke into my home, burnt it. We’re loyal
citizens!” The edge of hysteria had worked its way back into Hua’s voice. She seemed to
have found the experience traumatising.

“Some of my father’s officers are over zealous,” Azula offered, aiming for somewhere
between regretful and sympathetic, while feeling mostly impatient. “However, I reward
loyalty. You need not fear, I will protect you. Now onto other matters. How many men has
my father sent?”

She made the girl go over every word she had heard, over every description and facial
expression. But there was only so much Azula could glean from it. She couldn’t pinpoint
exactly what her father was thinking, or what he intended, which was infuriating and
concerning. She could make some educated guesses, and that was almost worse.

The Fire Sages were the concerning part. Of course, it could be related to the Avatar, but the
Sages failing to predict his return had not been a great moment for them, and rather
catastrophic for some of their order. Her father had been most displeased. Those that had
survived his unhappiness were probably working hard to regain his favour. They gave advice
in spiritual and religious matters—including death and marriage.

It was that last one that was worrying her. There were only two options, and neither were
good. If he thought to marry her off he would need to pick well, as an unwanted groom was
unlikely to survive the wedding night. So who? That bastard Zhao had obviously been trying
his luck since she was barely knee high, but he was common born and even though he had
been climbing the ladder ruthlessly, she didn’t think her father would give him a shot at the
throne.

Other possibilities included Tsing’s son, Jianjun. He was only a year older than her, his father
had the Fire Lord’s favour, for his ruthless tactical skill and perhaps also for his inadvertent
assistance in removing Zuko from the line of succession. Even if it had taken three years to
get rid of him completely. While she approved of Tsing’s prowess in planning battles, his son
was entitled, arrogant, and lacking in his father’s boldness and intelligence. It was a good
choice, politically, as Tsing held a lot of power and land, but like Zhao, his ambition might be
greater than his loyalty. If Jianjun married her, she didn’t think that either he or his father
would be content with him just being her consort. That would be a very foolish mistake on
their part. If Azula were to become Fire Lord, she and she alone intended to rule. No husband
of hers would get even a sniff of that power.

If that was her father’s plan, and he intended to betroth her, then she would at least have a
few years before she reached a legal age for marriage, plenty of time to remove any unwanted
suitors.

No, it was the other option that posed the most risk. The one that could destroy her, could
oust her from her position. Would he dare? Had she fallen so far in his estimation? Azula was
the most powerful firebender born in generations! She was everything a father could want in
a child, everything a leader could want in an heir.

If he remarried, the consequences for her were unthinkable. She could feel her chest getting
tight, a horrible, constricting sensation. If he thought to replace her, he was going to rue the
day, she would see to it. She flushed, gritting her teeth and forcing her face to stillness.

That thought was unequivocally treasonous.

The feeling of anger swirled through her, tantalising in its wildness, tugging at the emotions
she kept so controlled. Unlike the last time she had dealt with Hua, she kept her feelings
contained and resisted setting anything on fire.

She could not lose control.

Any sign of it, any sign of anger, and her father might act against her before she was ready.
She had to bide her time, be certain of what he was planning, and then act accordingly. She
needed to be clear headed. A new stepmother could be disposed of as easily as an unwanted
groom, after all.

But carefully. Very, very carefully.

She looked at the girl on the floor, considering. “My companion, Ty Lee, is outside. Wait
with her until I am done here. Then she will take you to bathe and deal with your hair.” It
would need to be cut, but that would not be a bad thing. The less identifiable the girl was, the
better. If she returned with Azula to Caldera, she would need to make sure she was entirely
unrecognisable. Perhaps some sort of disguise or a face plate like the soldiers wore. She
would think on it.

Hua left, and Azula raised her eyes to look Mai over. She had remained impassive throughout
the conversation. Azula wondered if any of her own emotions had shown on her face. The
thought annoyed her, but she restrained the impulse to be sharp with her friend. She would
need her on side and accommodating.

There was no doubt that Azula would have to attend to her father’s wishes and return to the
Fire Nation. It enraged her that she would have to leave just as the drill was completed, just
before it was deployed, giving the victory that should have been hers to someone else. In
other circumstances she would accept that sometimes you had to step aside, that both her
father’s needs, and her nation’s, were more important than her own. But not this time. She
had to have this win. She would not have some jumped up general taking the credit that
should be hers. Too much rested on her success, her father's regard relied on it.

“I will leave for Caldera with my father’s men. I will head out first, but I wish for you and Ty
Lee to do a task before joining me,” she told Mai. She thought her friend looked more
watchful than usual, like she sensed the tumultuous undercurrents that lay beneath Azula’s
calm face and posture.

What she was about to say was a risk, a huge one. She would never normally trust a person
with something so great. But there was no one else, and she was out of options.
“Anything you ask, Azula,” Mai said. Her voice was a lazy drawl but her eyes were sharp
and keen.

Azula laid down the plans of the drill’s internal workings and gestured for Mai to take them.
“Study this. Tomorrow I want you to visit the project. Inspect it for me and make sure
progress is on time. Frighten the workers if you must.”

Mai watched her carefully, her long fingers rubbing briefly over the parchment before the
plans disappeared into a voluminous sleeve. The next bit was hard to say. Until it was done,
and she was bound by her own actions, it put far too much power in Mai’s hands. But there
was no choice.

“Make sure it doesn’t run. I don’t care what you do, so long as you do not get caught.” She
looked Mai in the face, steely and certain. “It will not be finished on time, understand?”

Mai’s eyes widened just a fraction, but she bowed her head in acknowledgement. “We will
see to it,” she said.

“Do not disappoint me.” Azula let an edge of threat seep into her voice. “This is my plan, and
my campaign. I will not have Tsing take it out from under me.” That part probably had not
been necessary, but better to let them think it was competitiveness rather than something
more life and death that was driving this action. “When you are done, rejoin me.”

She didn’t want to dwell too much on how close to treason this was. How close to ‘If I free
the Avatar from my own people and recapture him right away, it’s not high treason’ it was.
She hated that she could now understand her brother’s desperation and the lengths he had
been willing to go to regain their father’s favour.

But unlike Zuzu, Azula had people and resources she could rely on, or at least force into
compliance. And she had the ability to think through her choices rationally and without her
brother’s pathetic desperation and emotional nonsense.

She could do this. And if her father had chosen to replace her, if he had chosen to marry, then
she would make sure there would be no heir to take her place.

She shivered. There was a small part of her, deep down and hidden that whispered: and she
would make him regret it.

It sounded a lot like treason.

…………………………….

After leaving the Earth Kingdom camp, they had travelled through what was left of the night,
and on through the day without stopping for more than a few hours. Although they had taken
turns to ride in front so the other person could nap, it wasn’t a stand in for actual sleep and
Sokka was exhausted. Zuko was also clearly fatigued, but unlike Sokka who just wanted to
whine and pass out like a normal person, Zuko got cranky. Actually, he reminded Sokka of
Katara that way, which gave him some amusement for a while.

But Zuko being cranky meant Zuko being difficult, and that was stressful and annoying.
Somehow, he had forgotten just how annoying he could be. If Sokka said let’s go left, Zuko
wanted to go right. If Sokka said let’s stop, Zuko would attempt to keep going until
Dumpling’s legs fell off. He suspected if he said the sky was blue, the arsehole would argue
with him about it.

It reminded Sokka of that horrible day in the forest before they had been separated, when
Zuko was pushing himself to his limits, and nearly killing Sokka in the process. Thankfully,
in reality, Zuko would never actually let Dumpling lose her legs. He might not stop because
of Sokka’s tired complaining, but he would for the sake of his stupid ostrich horse.

They circled around the side of a small lake, the red gold of approaching sunset casting its
light over the water. Birds had flocked to the banks to drink, and Sokka’s stomach rumbled at
the sight of them. “We should stop here. Get some birds.” He pointed over Zuko’s shoulder
towards a busy, noisy crowd of waterfowl.

“We can go on further,” Zuko insisted stubbornly. “We don’t need the food yet. We have
supplies.”

Sokka knocked his head against Zuko’s shoulder in irritation. “That may be true, but the first
rule to surviving in the wilderness: don’t pass up the opportunity for food if it’s there. We
have enough now. But will we in two days? Three? What about if we have half the 54th with
us? We need to save the dry rations.”

Zuko grunted. “What would you even catch them with?” he asked, voice grumpy and sullen.
He was probably also suffering anxiety, same as Sokka, and it was adding to his level of
aggressive agitation. Sokka still kind of wanted to box his ears, though.

Hmm. Maybe it was not only Zuko that was feeling a little cranky from all the hours on the
road, not to mention the thrumming worry and tension.

Sokka patted the bag his father had given him before fumbling around in it carefully. His dad
had given him quite a few interesting bits for their journey, but this was perhaps the most
important. He pulled out a boomerang, holding it forward so Zuko could see. It gleamed
softly in the hazy evening light. His dad giving him a replacement and him accepting it had
felt like a pivotal moment, one he was still struggling to properly process. His feelings were
too tangled up to sort through the mix of love and shame and pride. And he was just too
hungry and tired to even try.

“I can use this,” he said. “And that’s exactly what I’m going to do.” He didn’t wait for Zuko
to object and heaved himself out of the saddle with perhaps less grace than he was hoping for.
Tumbling off a moving six foot tall bird was less easy than he had anticipated. Still, he hadn’t
stabbed himself on the way down, so he was going to have to count that as something of a
win.
He brushed himself off as Zuko tugged on the reins angrily and pulled the bird around. Sokka
gave him a little jaunty wave. “You can stay here and complain to Dumpling about it. Maybe
light us a fire to cook.”

“Sokka!” Zuko sounded like he was going to start yelling, it had been a while since he had
been able to really let rip with his temper, and he was probably overdue a tantrum, but Sokka
ignored him, tuning on his heel and heading for the bank of the lake. It had been some time
since he had hunted, and his pride was dependent on providing now he had made a big deal
out of it.

Luckily, new boomerang did not let him down. There was something settling and gratifying
bringing back the two water birds he had taken. His mood improved further when he caught
Zuko actually taking his snarky advice and muttering to Dumpling as he brushed the dust out
of her feathers. Sokka couldn’t hear what he was saying, but from the tone, he assumed he
was grumbling about how terrible Sokka was. The idea was adorable and hilarious. Even
Zuko’s scowl and angry steaming didn’t put too much of a dampener on it.

The birds tasted good. Better than the soldiers’ food in the camp, perhaps because they were
seasoned with his first successful hunt since before the North Pole, months ago now.

“I still think we could have gone another hour,” Zuko said, the ungrateful wretch. “Unless
you want Ro to catch us?”

Zuko was clearly looking for a fight, and it was getting increasingly hard not to give him one.
“Obviously I don’t want that,” Sokka growled back, his good mood evaporating despite the
joy of fresh cooked meat. “No one wants that.” He couldn’t understand why the possibility of
running out of food wasn’t worrying Zuko too. Even thinking about it made Sokka feel
anxious and caused his stomach to clench in remembered pain. Perhaps other traumas had
eclipsed that one. Or maybe he didn’t feel the stress because they were only a day out and
had plenty of supplies. Thinking ahead was not Zuko’s strong suit. It wasn’t even just a Zuko
problem, it seemed to be a Fire Nation problem. None of them seemed to think through the
long-term repercussions of their stupid decisions.

Zuko was delicately picking the meat off the bone before eating it while Sokka watched him,
unreasonably annoyed. “Did you never consider that killing the bridge to the spirit world
might be a bad thing for the Fire Nation? Just like it was a bad thing to kill the moon?” he
asked.

Zuko looked bemused for a moment, thrown off by the sudden topic shift. He glanced up and
shrugged.

Sokka sneered at him. And okay, maybe he was also looking for a fight to release some of the
horrible tension that had been building since they snuck out of the camp. “You know, not
even considering the fact that this particular spirit bridge is the twelve year old survivor of a
genocide.”
Zuko signed, exasperated, and acting like Sokka was the one being ridiculous, and that he had
not just been whinging to a bloody-minded, ostrich horse. “Where are you going with this?”
he asked peevishly. “Why is it relevant?” He stripped off another bit of meat and shoved it
into his mouth like he was imagining it was Sokka’s head he was chewing. “The Avatar is
more than just a person.”

“That was kind of my point with the spirit bridge thing.” Sokka said, leaning forward to grab
the second small fowl to put over the fire. “The thing is, Zuko, he may be an all powerful
being, but he’s also a young boy. I think that fact passes you by sometimes.”

“He doesn’t get that luxury.”

There was something a little bitter in Zuko’s tone, Sokka thought, but he opted to ignore it.
“The situation he’s found himself in has come as a shock. He grew up in peace-time, he
didn’t have to be a grown-up like we did.” Sokka stabbed the fire with his stick, watching the
sparks fly. Zuko’s eyes glinted dark and gold. It made a shiver run up Sokka’s spine, the
weird disconnect he got sometimes when he remembered just who and what his friend
actually was. “Or at least he hadn’t before he woke up the sole survivor of his people, in the
middle of a war, with you bastards trying to kill him.”

“We won’t kill him!” He actually sounded offended.

“Yeah, Aang mentioned the Fire Nation was just planning to keep him imprisoned instead. A
kid who likes butterflies and thinks spinning a marble with airbending is the coolest thing in
the world. You’re going to lock him up for the rest of his natural life? Is that better than
killing? Because I’m not sure.”

“As long as he’s free, he’s a risk to us.”

“Yeah, he is. But not just because of his power, or the potential of it. He’s a risk because he
brings hope, real hope, to the people your nation is subjugating. Free or not, he’s a threat.
Killing him is the only way to remove that.”

Zuko pursed his lips. It was clear he didn’t want to admit it, even though everything he had
ever been taught, had ever believed, was pushing him to agree, to say yes, death is the best
option. There was clearly an internal battle going on and that made Sokka angry, although
logically he knew the struggle meant there was a part of Zuko, a big part, that knew it was
wrong, that didn’t want to follow his family’s bloody path. But it still felt so frustrating that
he had to point these things out to him. “So,” Sokka said, his eyes narrowing. He could see
the vulnerable crack in the stonework, and he was going to ram his chisel into it. He was too
upset not to. “So, what will they do then, do you think? Once the last airbender has passed?”

Zuko had stopped picking at his food and was looking under his lashes, avoiding direct eye
contact—he clearly knew this was going to be brutal. “I don’t know what…”

“You don’t know? Don’t you think it’s a good thing to think about?” Sokka put his own
dinner down, his anger and fear forcing away any pleasure in the food. “There’s a clue in my
previous sentence. The one that refers to the last airbender. Do you think Sozin murdered
them by chance?”
“They-”

“If you say they had an army again, I’m going to thump you.” Sokka leant forward and
pointed a finger. “We’ve been over this before, it’s tiresome.”

That caused a scowl, Zuko’s entire face scrunching up unhappily and Sokka waved an angry
hand at him. “Anyway, who cares if they did have one? Those pacifists that don’t eat meat or
kill bugs, even if they had an army the size of the Earth Kingdom’s, there was still no excuse
to murder their children. So we can allow the hypothetical army if you like, because it
doesn’t make a difference to my point.” The fire rose a little with Zuko’s agitation, but Sokka
ignored it. “There will never be an excuse for what they did. None. You can flounder around
all day trying to dig one up, but you won’t, because, unlike your great grandfather, you’re not
a soulless, evil, monster.”

Zuko stared at him. As predicted, completely unable to answer. Although he could argue for
seven hours about tea pots, he just couldn’t about baby killing. Because he was at heart, a
good person. He just made Sokka so mad, still being so dense about these things. He was
doing better at not parroting Fire Nation propaganda without thinking, but it still felt like he
was burying his head in the sand when it came to the reality of what his father was doing.
Had done. Would do.

“So, going back to my previous point. What will they do next, if they kill the Avatar? I can
give you another clue if you need it.” When no immediate answer was forthcoming, Sokka
sneered again. “Why did they kill the Air Nomads?” he could feel something unfurling in his
chest, anger and frustration and the very real fear that felt like it had been with him since
birth. Perhaps it had been.

Zuko said nothing. A leg of meat forgotten in one hand as he stared at the floor.

Despite the sudden disappearance of his hunger, Sokka stuffed another bite into his mouth
and spoke around it. “It’s because air was next on the cycle. They knew he would be reborn
there, and they only had a certain amount of time before he was ready to train, to stop the Fire
Nation getting everything out of whack by subjugating and murdering people. So, I ask you
again, if Aang dies, what will they do?”

Zuko looked pale, his mouth tight and thin. Sokka pointed a finger at him again. “Where will
he be born next?” he said, low and furious.

Zuko wet his lips before answering, “Into the Water Tribes,” his voice was so quiet it could
barely be heard above the crackle of the fire.

“Right. And what did the Fire Nation do the last time the Avatar was born into a nation that
wasn’t their own?”

Zuko swallowed and looked at the dirt.

Sokka smiled. He didn’t think it was a pleasant expression. “So here’s the thing, if Aang dies,
so do my people. All of them. It might take a year, it might take five or twenty, but the Fire
Nation will do everything it can to wipe us out. So yeah, as well as the fact they want to
murder my friend, I also take all of this shit pretty fucking personally.”

“Sokka…”

“Nope. No. I’m so mad right now,” Sokka said, pushing himself to his feet, food forgotten.
Zuko could tidy it up if he wanted, Sokka was done with it. “Sleep somewhere else tonight. I
don’t want to look at you.”

Sokka curled himself in their bedroll. He felt like the fight, such as it was, had come out of
nowhere. It was a bit like the anger that had surged through him the last time they had fought,
but colder. There was a different fury at the heart of it, older and more pervasive. There was
something strangling about growing up, about living with the knowledge that there was a
powerful nation that wanted to wipe you and your people out. With knowing that they could,
that they had done it before.

Sokka woke up cold. He hadn’t bothered to set up the tent. Too angry, too tired. Zuko was
curled against Dumpling’s big body. He looked very small and alone. Sokka’s anger had
mellowed, retreating to a low level thrum threaded with sadness. Sadness for his people, for
Aang’s, and perhaps, for the first time, for Zuko’s. He was a good person, but if it was this
damn hard to get him to see reality? This bullshit must have been fed to him since birth.
Sokka couldn’t imagine that it was any different for the common people.

Sokka needed to empty his bladder now he was awake, and he groaned as he pushed himself
up, shivering a little. The woods were dark and the wind in the leaves was maybe a little
more creepy than he really wanted to deal with. He had become used to the hustle and noise
of the army camp, this nature kind of silence just reminded him of how alone they were out
here.

The forest floor felt cold against his toes as he staggered to the tree line to relieve himself.

“Sokka.”

Sokka jumped and squeaked embarrassingly, getting pee on his own foot in his surprise.

“What the fuck, Zuko?” Sokka stared at him, eyes wide. Zuko was standing right behind him,
looming like a freak.

“You’re right. About what will happen if the Avatar dies. I won’t let it. I won’t, if there is
anything I can do to stop it.”

Sokka blinked at him, his heart rate slowly lowering. “That’s great, buddy. But you couldn’t
have waited until I was done taking a piss?”

Zuko looked at him with an expression of bafflement. Then his eyes slid downwards, and he
flushed. He apparently hadn’t even registered what Sokka was doing, just that he had to tell
him his decision right that second. “Well, hurry and finish then,” he snapped, and stomped
back towards Dumpling, stiff legged and disgruntled.

Sokka chuckled to himself, feeling a little lighter. He had not actually expected that much of
a shift. Of course, Zuko had not promised that he wouldn’t capture the Avatar, only that he
would try to stop him from being killed. But that in itself was a big deal. When Zuko made a
decision about these things, he seemed to stick to it. Like protecting Sokka, when the more
sensible thing to have done would be to look the other way. It was a huge move in the right
direction, and it was a move towards his ultimate goal of getting Zuko to join them, and fill in
for the awkward lack of a Firebending teacher. Not being dead-set on murdering his pupil
would be a great first step.

Sokka debated heading to the lake to wash his foot, but decided wandering through the forest
in the oppressive dark was not the best option. Instead, he used a little water from his
personal supply. He refused to be embarrassed for peeing on himself, given the
circumstances.

Once clean, he picked up the bedroll and went to join Zuko where he was huddled against
Dumpling’s warm flank, scowling out into the gloom. As Sokka sat beside him, Dumpling
bent her long neck so she could give him a warning glare as he settled against her rough
feathers. He stuck his tongue out at her and she grunted, apparently satisfied her threat had
been taken seriously.

Zuko didn’t appear to have slept at all, judging from the bags under his eyes. He had clearly
been awake thinking about what Sokka had said, and he still looked haunted by it, like his
decision had not helped bring him any peace.

He didn’t acknowledge Sokka for a long moment, other than to shift slightly to accommodate
him. Then he let out a long breath. “I’m not switching sides. I can’t. But I…I don’t want your
people hurt. If there is anything I can do to prevent it, I will,” he said, addressing his bent
knee where it was tucked up to his chest.

Sokka gave him a little bump with his shoulder. “I understand, but that’s not actually
dissimilar to switching sides,” he couldn’t help pointing out. “I don’t think you can just stay
neutral, you know? Inaction isn’t good enough for anybody.”

Zuko finally turned his hurt, angry gaze on him. “I can’t turn my back on my nation. I love
my people, Sokka.”

Sokka let his face soften a little. He could see the struggle written across his friend’s features.
“Then save them, Zuko. Don’t let this be their legacy. There’s more than enough blood on
their hands from the past hundred years of fuckery.”

Zuko tipped his head back against Dumpling and looked up at the stars, his face drawn and
haggard. Sokka drew his own knees up, holding them loosely with his arms and gave him a
little space.
Sokka wasn’t sure of the time, but the sky wasn’t showing any sign of becoming lighter. “I
don’t think I’m going to be able to sleep again,” he said.

Zuko stirred beside him. “No, me either, but we should wait until first light before we set
off.” His eyes were shadowed as he looked at Sokka sideways. “Are you angry with me?”

Sokka thought about it. “A little. But mostly I’m just angry. Angry with the situation, angry
with your dad and with the warmongering.” He was also still a little angry with Zuko, but he
would let it go for now. Small changes. He felt that too big a push could have a disastrous
effect, either by shoving him the other way, or by doing too much damage to whatever was
left of his sense of identity. Fuck knows Sokka was struggling with it, post boat. He could
only imagine the mess that was probably lurking in Zuko’s head.

It worried him though and was another reason he had been avoiding pushing forward too
much. He wanted Zuko to understand, and to decide to do the right thing, because it was the
right thing. Not because of Sokka. Not because he was worried Sokka would be mad at him,
or because he was trying to make him happy. He had to do it because he recognised that the
other option was wrong. Restraining himself was hard, he had a whole lot of arguments lined
up, some of which were pretty brutal, but he had intended to go softly. Unfortunately, his own
anger had once again taken control of his mouth, and things had become far more aggressive
than he had been intending. Still, it had made a small shift, and created a bit of
understanding. It was time to get off this rather fraught topic and try for something lighter to
pass the time until first light.

“Do you want to play a game?” Sokka asked.

That got the delightful reaction of a full growly scowl. “I would rather eat glass.”

Sokka snorted, “Come on, they’re not that bad! You enjoyed Moose-Lion, Soldier, Hunter.”

“Not enough to want to play it again,” Zuko muttered at him sullenly.

“Oh fine. Tell me something fun then.”

“A story?”

Sokka considered. “No, you’ve travelled even more than I have, seen things. Tell me about
them. You like animals. What’s the strangest you’ve seen? Or!” He poked Zuko in the
shoulder, giving him what he hoped was a lascivious look. “Or tell me about the beautiful
women you’ve met! There must be some fun stories. Banished or not, you were still a prince,
that must have attracted some interest.”

Zuko glared at him. “I was busy hunting for the Avatar, which was far more important than
whatever it is you are suggesting!”

Sokka grinned at him. He did always get a little bent out of shape whenever Sokka mentioned
girls – from brothels to romance, it always got the same indignant reaction. “And what?
There were no women involved at all? Did you just avoid them on land? Are you allergic to
them?”
Zuko sniffed. “That’s preposterous. How would I have…? Why would I have done that?” He
made an excellent frowny face. “Anyway, there were plenty of women on my ship.”

“There were?” Sokka was not entirely sure what he meant.

“About one third of the crew were female?” Zuko was looking at him like he was a moron.
“You didn’t notice that?”

“Er, no? Really?” A lot of them had been wearing those awful face plates, and the armour
was pretty bulky. He could see how it might be hard to tell.

Zuko sighed, very aggrieved. “Yes.”

“I had heard that the Fire Nation had women in its army, but I guess I don’t remember seeing
any.”

“They don’t fight at the front, usually. They serve as the home guard, or are stationed in the
colonies, at long held fortresses and prisons. My ship wasn’t really navy, so having female
crew members was pretty normal.”

“Oh, okay.” Sokka was forced to adjust his view of Zuko’s exposure to the opposite sex. This
caused him some concern—it was the single area he was pretty sure he had the one-up. Zuko
was taller, stronger, better at fighting, but Sokka had more experience with girls. That this
might not be true was upsetting. “Did you ever have a crush on any of them?” he asked
cautiously.

“They were my subordinates, Sokka!” Zuko made a reassuringly scandalised face. “And most
of them were old,” he added after a moment’s thought.

So, there was some hope yet. “What about-”

Zuko made a sharp gesture, cutting him off. “What about you? As you’re so keen, share your
experiences.”

Sokka grinned. If Zuko had been hoping to throw him off by turning the tables, he was going
to be disappointed. If he was honest, he had been waiting for the opportunity to show off of
his own encounters.

“I kissed a princess,” he said. May as well go right in with the boasting. “She’s beautiful and
kind, and smart and everything you could want in a girl.” He felt like he was doing her a bit
of a disservice with that description. Yue was all of those things, but beautiful didn’t really
describe how she had looked with the moonlight in her hair, or the soft curve of her smile, or
the warmth of her laugh. He felt a funny clenching in his chest when he realised he hadn’t
thought about her for a while.

“She’s from your homeland?” Zuko asked.

“No, from the Northern Tribe. Daughter of the chief.”

“I guess it makes sense, as you are the son of a chief. For her to be your girlfriend, I mean, or
are you betrothed?”

Sokka’s mood soured a little. “I was kind of hoping she would be my girlfriend. But she’s
betrothed to someone else.”

“Oh. Well, wouldn’t you be the better option? Perhaps her father would make a deal with
your father?”

“We don’t do things like that in our tribe, arranged marriages, I mean. Perhaps if we dated for
a while and if she wanted to, my dad could try. But I wouldn’t want her to feel she had to,
you know?”

Zuko looked like the concept was confusing.

“Do you have arranged marriages in the Fire Nation?” Sokka asked.

“Only among the nobility.”

“So you..?” Sokka prompted. Somehow he had not considered that, even though Zuko was a
prince, or had been.

Zuko shrugged a shoulder uncomfortably. “Yeah, kind of. I was promised to a nobleman’s
daughter, but that was when I was fourth in line to the throne.”

“Did you want to marry her?”

“She was nice. We got on okay. But want is irrelevant. I would have married her because it
was my duty. I would have made a terrible husband, though.”

“Why?”

Another shrug. “It doesn’t matter now, anyway. Thankfully, it never became a formal
betrothal. That would have happened when we had both reached fourteen years or more. So it
was easy to break when I was banished.”

“Thankfully? Sounds like you were relieved.”

“I meant for her. It would have brought shame on her and her family. I never really thought
about it before. Other stuff on my mind, I guess.”

Other stuff, no kidding. Perhaps it was time to steer towards calmer waters. “I kissed one
other girl, before Yue, an amazing warrior woman from Kyoshi Island. You may have met her
while you were burning it down.”

Zuko flushed, grimacing slightly. “I don’t remember. Or, I remember the fire and, um, you in
the dress. But I don’t remember the other people I was fighting. I was just desperate to get the
Avatar.”
Of course he remembered Sokka in the dress. Of course he remembered the embarrassing
part and not the people whose homes he had destroyed. Although from the look on his face,
he at least had the grace to look sorry about it. Sokka decided to let it go for now. “So, that’s
two beautiful girls I have kissed.” He nudged Zuko’s shoulder with his own again. “Put me
out of my misery. Do I beat you in kiss numbers?”

Zuko gave him a flat look. “Yes, Sokka, you win, two to my one.”

“The girl you were betrothed to?”

“Zhao.”

Oh. Oh fuck. Somehow Sokka had not anticipated kissing to be a part of what had happened
on the boat. “Oh,” he said, a little stupidly. “I didn’t think that would, uh, have been a thing.”

Time to get the fuck off this subject and remember to never, ever return to it. Sokka
desperately cast his mind around for something to say while Zuko started intently into the
dark. It looked like there was a storm brewing inside him; the air becoming thick with
turbulent emotion. Beneath them, Dumpling huffed, perhaps picking up on their distress.
“Dumpling’s warm,” Sokka blurted inanely. Why was it he could talk shit about anything,
anytime, except when he needed to?

Zuko didn’t seem to notice. His eyes had gone a little distant. “After I had written the letter,
he said he didn’t see the point in waiting and we went to his cabin.”

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” Sokka really hoped he would take the
out and stop. He knew he was the only person Zuko could talk to, and because of that, if he
needed to unload, Sokka would be there to listen and help. But he didn’t want to. That
probably made him a terrible, terrible friend, but he couldn’t stand the feelings that ran under
his skin even at the thought of the boat. Of what had happened to them, to Zuko. The sick
cold sparks that ran up his arms, the churning feeling in his stomach was too much for him to
cope with, especially now, especially out here.

Again, Zuko ignored him, just carrying on where he had left off. “We went to his cabin, and
he made me promise to be obedient again. Then he kissed me.” He swallowed. “I don’t know
why.”

Sokka didn’t either. In his head, he had imagined only violence.

“He touched me like a lover,” Zuko sounded hurt, wounded almost. And Sokka realised he
did know why. Because this had taken something else from him, something that should have
been tender, and made it into a sick mockery.

Zuko took another couple of breaths, sharp and harsh like he was sucking in air, trying not to
drown. “He touched me like a lover,” he said again. “He used his mouth and fingers.” Zuko
made a twisting, upward gesture with the first two fingers of his left hand, that perfectly
illustrated what he meant and was horrifyingly obscene given the context. Then he took a few
more of those jagged breaths. To Sokka, it looked like the air along with the words was
tumbling free of him, like they were being pushed outwards with the weight of the trauma
behind them.

Zuko breathed like he was being punched. “To make me...you know. I didn’t want to, but I
did.” He curled in on himself a little with that admission.

Sokka sat and stared dumbly at his hands. His own breath felt tight in his chest, like it was
stuck in his lungs. The visuals his brain was providing him with were tightening his gut with
sick horror. He wished he had not inadvertently kicked this conversation off, although this
had clearly been festering like a poisoned wound.

Zuko’s face screwed up. “He said I was lucky. That he was giving me a gift. That no one else
would have done that for me.” He shook his head, one hand clenching in his short hair. “He
said anyone else would just take me face down, so they didn’t have to look at me.”

Sokka didn’t know why that of all things shook him out of horror and into anger. The double
helping of extra cruelty on top of something that was already evil. To suggest he should be
grateful for what was happening to him? To mock his disfigurement, on top of everything
else? It made Sokka feel almost incandescently angry, to the point his vision was blurring and
his head was hurting.

Dumpling made a low warbling set of grunts, which Sokka recognised as alarm, and she
reached her big head around to pluck at his pant leg with her sharp beak. He dug a hand into
her rough feathers and gave her a calming scratch, trying to lower his own heart rate. Being
angry would not be helpful. Dumpling ruffled her plumage, getting it back in order before
glaring at Sokka. He pet her snout placatingly, he was too emotionally wrung out to fight
with her.

“You’re not ugly,” he said, rather stupidly. Of all the things to deal with, he wasn’t sure why
he had gone for that one—perhaps it was guilt. He had called Zuko ugly to his face several
times. Had thought he was ugly. Not just because of the scar, although that had added to it,
but because he was so obviously from the Fire Nation. Sokka had looked at his features, his
eyes, and he saw murder and death and anger. He had been in boat jail with Zuko for a week
before he even really looked at him and saw the boy behind the face. He didn’t think he was
ugly now. The scar was hard to look at sometimes, there was no denying it was unpleasant. It
wasn’t just the melted twists of flesh and shiny reddened skin that made it so, it was the
knowledge of what he had suffered. The pain, the fear and shame it represented for his friend,
and for everything he had gone through.

“I know what I look like, Sokka,” Zuko snapped, and it was a relief to hear the growl in his
voice. But even though he looked angry, there were tears in his eyes, glinting in the light of
the embers of their fire.

Sokka shuffled around a bit and leaned forward, moving a hand slowly so Zuko could stop
him, and rested it on his jaw, careful not to touch actual scar tissue. “There is a lot more to
you than your face.”

Zuko did not look convinced, his mouth tight and unhappy.
“I get you feel shamed by it. That in the Fire Nation, people might judge you for it. But here,
in the Earth Kingdom? It’s not a mark of shame, it’s a mark of survival. People will view it
differently, trust me.”

“I don’t care, Sokka. It’s hardly something that matters.”

Sokka didn’t think that was strictly true, but he was right. His attractiveness was probably not
the thing he was most upset about right now.

Zuko drew his other knee up, curling himself around them, hiding his face. “There’s
something wrong with me. Zhao knew, that’s why he did that,” he said, a little muffled.

There were so many things wrong with Zuko, and very few of them were his fault. Not really.
Sokka did not know which one he was talking about, or if it was something only in his own
head. He forced down his own feelings, the horrible twisting and the burning desire to wipe
the conversation away. “Do you mean because you...” He paused and ran through half a
dozen slang terms, discarding them as not quite appropriate. “Because you ejaculated?” he
finished, keeping his tone as even as possible.

Zuko was silent for a moment. “Yeah,” he admitted at last.

Sometimes, Sokka really wished Zuko wasn’t as honest as he was. He would have much
preferred to just pretend none of this had happened. Especially this, because he didn’t know
what to say. Why had that happened? If someone had put their mouth on Sokka like that,
even in those awful circumstances, would he respond to it in the same way? He couldn’t
imagine it, but then again, he could get hard from only a stray thought, or could have, before
the boat. He assumed that would stop with age, or at least mellow a bit. But it must be even
worse with touching.

Sokka just wished he had some knowledge he could turn into useful advice. But he didn’t.
He’d had no friends, no older siblings, all the men had been gone. What he knew was from
watching nature, the very embarrassing talk Gran Gran had given him about changing bodies
and not getting girls pregnant and the erotic etchings he had managed to get his hands on.
Those had been very informative and given him a lot of insight into the many different ways
people could have sex. But nothing had given him any information on something like this,
and platitudes didn’t feel like they would be enough.

“I don’t think...I don’t think it means something’s wrong with you, or that you liked it. I think
it’s a body thing, rather than a you thing,” he tried anyway.

“I don’t know. After that, he said it was only fair he took his turn, and he fucked me.”

Sokka winced at the blunt statement. That wasn’t the word he would have used to describe
what had happened. But he wasn’t going to argue the point right now. He hated the way Zhao
seemed to have made it sound like a fair exchange, especially as Zuko had previously
admitted it had happened more than once during his long hours in the bastard’s cabin. And
there had been violence that second time at least, that had been written all over Zuko’s body.
“I knew it was going to hurt, I knew that, and I knew I could take the pain. I can handle pain.
But I didn’t know how much it was going to hurt me.” There was emphasis on that as Zuko
poked his fingers at his own chest, his eyes a little wild, he was not talking about the physical
pain.

Sokka had nothing he could give, and the helplessness tore at him. There was no one to fight,
nowhere to run. Just a horrible, relentless reality. The only thing he could do was to offer
what little comfort he could. So, he would put away the broken bits of himself, and focus on
helping in the small ways he was able to. It would make him feel less impotent, less like he
had failed.

Later he would find out the answers to Zuko’s questions and hopefully give him some peace
of mind. Perhaps he could even find a way to show him his scar didn’t define him. But for
now, he would give whatever he could. He nudged his friend with a shoulder again and when
he didn’t object to the contact; he put an arm around him and tugged a little. Zuko took the
hint and leaned into him, resting his head on Sokka’s shoulder before tucking himself into
him more comfortably, breathing hot against Sokka’s neck.

Sokka was surprised that Zuko was allowing himself to be comforted, but perhaps he had just
been pushed to such a low point he no longer cared. Sokka felt an unpleasant burn of guilt in
his gut, he had been too aggressive earlier, although he had not been wrong in anything he
had said, but then been careless with his words again, unthinking with his chosen topic of
conversation.

He didn’t think he would get much more sleep that night, but at least he could keep watch
while Zuko got whatever rest he could.

…………………..

The night had passed slowly. Shen had managed a few snatches of sleep, his body exhausted
enough to override the constant burning pain from his injuries. But he had been woken
repeatedly by his own anxious dreams. Memories of the fight that had landed him in this
situation, of his short hour with Ro that had felt like it had lasted a lifetime, more distant
memories of the siege of Ba Sing Se and the loss he had suffered there. And the fear of
repeating the past with the loss of his men. They were his family. Guo had been by his side
since Shen had been a gangly teenager whose limbs had grown too long for his body and who
repeatedly tripped over his own feet. Haoyu and Yuxuan were so young, and they were
hisresponsibility. They had nowhere else to go but the army, no other option, even though
Haoyu was unsuited to it.

And he was frightened of what his own future would bring. The prospect of more torture, or a
long, dark imprisonment, locked away and forgotten. Not to mention the real possibility he
would be forced to give up their plans for Ba Sing Se. The thought of it had haunted him,
shocked him out of sleep like a lightning strike.

Now as they rode towards Lao River Fort, that anxiety was increasing. Once they reached
their destination, his chances of escaping would become slim to none. They already felt like
an impossibility. His hands were bound to his saddle. Even an attempt to flee with the aim to
die trying was almost entirely unfeasible. Perhaps he should have attacked Kazuma when
they had been alone in the tent and died quick. Although death by fire was a horror he had no
desire to even contemplate, he would do it. He would do whatever he had to.

A thought which led to the only other option he had come up with in his increasingly
desperate attempts to think of a way out of this situation. There had been at least a casual
interest in the way Kazuma had looked at him last night. That could open up the possibility
he could seduce him. It might not even lead to any sort of opportunity, but if there was even
the slightest chance he could use it to gain the upper hand, he was willing to try.

Honestly, he wasn’t sure he remembered how to seduce someone. Sex had been put on the
back burner after the siege. He had been too busy fighting and grieving. It had been even
longer since he’d been with a man. Although he was fairly sure he recalled how it worked.

He turned slightly so he could see Kazuma out of the corner of his eye. He was having an
intense discussion with a soldier who had arrived as they packed up the camp. A scout or a
messenger, Shen presumed. Kazuma’s face was set into an annoyed frown, so the news
probably had not been something he had been hoping for. Shen contemplated him for a
moment, his body swaying a little with the motion of the komodo rhino. He was an attractive
man, in an uptight, straight laced sort of way. If he was a stranger he met during downtime,
he probably wouldn’t turn him down on looks alone. Shen grimaced. But he wasn’t a stranger
in a tavern. He was an ashmaker, a firebender and the idea of it turned his stomach.

It wouldn’t be the first time he had lowered himself into doing something similarly
unsavoury for his country or his people, but this was different. This wasn’t an Earth Kingdom
collaborator, it was a man who could burn him to death with the flick of his fingers. And the
thought of that made him truly afraid in a way he would struggle to admit out loud. He
couldn’t help but think of the burns on Zuli’s hips, infected and deep, and now seared into his
skin as a permanent reminder of his trauma. As if the poor kid needed any more scars. What
had happened to him had been vastly different to what Shen was contemplating, but the
memory of those burns, and Zuli’s other injuries, kept bleeding into his thoughts.

But frightened or not, he would do it, if he thought it would gain him freedom from what lay
ahead—in whatever form that would take. He would prefer escape, but he would accept death
rather than the alternative.

He had two problems with this plan. One, was how on earth to go about it? Perhaps if they
camped for the night and Kazuma questioned him alone in the tent again. But Shen wasn’t
sure there would be another stop. He honestly had no idea how far from Lao Fort they even
were. He had seen maps and vaguely knew the terrain, but he had no clue how fast these
beasts moved over this sort of ground.
The other problem was, although Shen knew he had not been wrong about Kazuma’s interest,
he wasn’t convinced the man would go for it. The Fire Nation had some weird laws about
that sort of thing between men, and Kazuma seemed like the kind of person who was a
stickler for the rules. He gave off the feeling he was both wound up tight and so repressed
and contained it had become a part of his identity. It would probably be easier to seduce a
man like Ro, who Shen knew would break any law, legal or moral, to fulfil his wants and
needs. Kazuma didn’t give off that kind of feeling. He was a man trapped by duty and
regulation, unable to run things as he wanted. Unable to get rid of the people like Zhao
tainting his army and nation.

So far, he had been respectful, given the circumstances. Although Shen didn’t kid himself
into thinking there was not an ulterior motive—he was clearly hoping to gain from his
behaviour. But at the same time, he didn’t think it was put on; it was just the way the man
usually behaved. It didn’t really matter. Even though Shen didn’t think he was an evil piece
of shit like Ro, the fear was still there, and so was the feeling of hate and disgust that went
with being in close proximity to his enemy.

As the day wore on, the ride became increasingly uncomfortable, both physically and in
Shen’s head, where the anxiety was ramping up with nothing to distract him but pain. So
when Kazuma finally rode up, he felt grateful for the distraction, and then annoyed with
himself for the positive feeling.

“How are you holding up, Captain?” Kazuma asked, with that relentless politeness that
seemed disingenuous considering he was a firebender. It aggravated Shen on some low level,
like an itch in an uncomfortable place. But he preferred that feeling to being glad of the
man’s company.

“I’ve felt better,” he said, eyeing Kazuma carefully. “Are we far from our destination? I’m
not a fan of these beasts.” He nodded down towards the rough grey back of the animal he was
riding.

“They take a little getting used to,” Kazuma agreed amicably. “But they are useful for long
distance travel and for fighting.”

“I like ostrich horses better,” Shen told him. His own mount had been killed in the fight, his
leg snapped in a trap and his body burnt. He had been Shen’s companion for three years, and
his loss hurt—not in the same way the loss of the 54th hurt, or the loss of life in the village,
but still a stabbing, aching kind of pain.

Kazuma was looking at him again, his honey brown eyes narrow and sharp.

“You wear your hair short, Captain. Not many do,” he said, leaving the question unasked, but
open for the taking if he wanted. The man’s curiosity was clear, but Shen was reluctant to
engage in it, not on this subject. Cutting his hair had expressed a grief that he wasn’t willing
to share with these people. But it must look odd to Kazuma, as the Fire Nation had a very
strict code when it came to hair. It was true that in the Earth kingdom, people wore their hair
long, but it didn’t hold the same amount of meaning as in the Fire Nation. Cutting a captured
soldier’s top knot was an act of violence, of violation almost. Shen had done it many times to
prisoners, had felt justified, perhaps even enjoyed the distress it caused—a small punishment
for their crimes.

Seeing it on Zuli, and also Sokka, whose people also seemed to have a lot of meaning in their
hair and adornments, had made him feel almost guilty. For both of the boys, the loss had
clearly compounded the other hurts they had suffered. But despite seeing it from that point of
view, Shen couldn’t quite bring himself to regret shaming men who had burned children in
their beds, who had razed farms to the ground and stolen land that wasn’t theirs.

As difficult as it was, though, if he wanted to try to gain something from Kazuma, then he
had to at least try to engage him. “I choose to keep it short,” he said, returning the curious
gaze with carefully casual eye contact.

“I assume there is a reason for that?” Kazuma frowned slightly. “If it is personal, you do not
have to tell me.”

Personal? He had a sudden flash of his brother as he died, the way he had looked up at Shen
in too much shock and pain to recognise him. The burns on his skin, the smell of it.

Personal didn’t really begin to cover it. “Yeah, you could say that,” he said, trying to blink the
images out of his vision and keep the anger and the pain out of his voice. The present was
pressing against the past uncomfortably. He had to get free from this situation, had to save his
men. He didn’t want to lose another family. “I cut it after…after I lost someone in the
fighting. I keep it short in memory.” As a promise. A promise to keep fighting, to kill as
many of the bastards as he could. His rage from those early few months had been tempered a
little, with his promotion, and through bonding with the 54th. They had saved him from what
might have been an ugly fate and an assuredly short life. But it was still there, simmering
away, the hate, the bitterness, the reckless fury.

“So yeah, it’s personal,” he finished, mouth tight.

Kazuma nodded and didn’t pursue it further.

They hit a flat plane at the far base of the mountains that surrounded the desert. The wind was
harsher here, and the vegetation sparse and browned. Finally free of the trees, the komodo
rhinos trudged onwards towards a walled village. The sight of it brought back unpleasant
memories of the one these people had destroyed, the people they had murdered. However
reasonable Kazuma seemed to be, Shen had to remember those innocent people, what these
soldiers had helped do to them. It was unforgivable.

They entered the village without fanfare, and no one seemed surprised by their presence,
barely stopping to look at the procession of soldiers and beasts. The village itself appeared
relatively prosperous. All the buildings were standing in good repair, and there were people
in the streets going about their business. At first glance, it seemed terribly normal, despite the
strange lack of response to a company of soldiers passing through. But under that, there
seemed to be something tense. Once he looked for it, he realised people were watching with
an air of caution, not being obvious. Their faces were kept carefully passive for the most part.
Shen also noticed old scorch marks on the walls of some buildings, faded but clear evidence
of some battle from the recent past.

He could see the way the people’s eyes flickered over him and away. These folk were Earth,
and Shen was clearly a prisoner. They may have been under Tsing’s yoke, but they were his
people. Their eyes lingered on his bound hands, mouths pinched and faces tight. One old
woman stopped to stare openly. She paused her sweeping and looked him right in the eye as
he passed. It was only a long few moments, but it made the hair stand up on his arms. There
was nothing she could do, but he could feel the emotion in her gaze, the shame, the anger,
and the fight that was still there despite the need to assimilate to survive. He fancied he could
feel her desire for him to live, or to die quick and easy—they were a pragmatic people after
all, and death would probably be the kinder option.

No one spoke openly or challenged the soldiers as they passed, but he didn’t really expect
them to, and he didn’t resent it. They had families, lives to live, even in this situation. But
there was a simmering anger still in the stiff backs and tense glances. Their fierceness was
still there, waiting. He didn’t think it would take much for it to come out. His people were
stubborn and steadfast. They hadn’t been under control for more than five or six years, not
like some places in the colonies. Here they still felt the shackles keenly.

As they made their way out of the village and further into the shadow on the mountains, the
old woman’s eyes haunted him. It had felt like she was willing him to fight, not to give up. It
made something in his chest clench. Death was the best option perhaps, would probably be
kinder, and certainly better than giving up Ba Sing Se. He would choose it in a heartbeat if he
had to, but fuck it, he wanted to live. The desire felt dangerous.

Once they reached Lao River Fort, it would be over. There would be no escape unless he
could grow wings or pull out a spirits blessed plan. It felt like even the crazy options he had
come up with so far were not going to work, as he suspected they were too close to their
destination. They would push on to get to the Fort.

“Are we close then?” he asked Kazuma the next time the man rode close enough to make
conversation.

He nodded. “We will arrive before sunset.”

It wasn’t a surprise, but it was pretty depressing. If only he’d had the sense to do something
last night rather than just passively being led away to his tent and trying to sleep. At least if
he had tried he could hold his head up. As it was, there was a feeling of crushing despair and
stifling shame. And under that, mixing with it uncomfortably, was the fear.

He tried to push it aside. There was still a chance. There had to be. “These villages are under
Tsing’s control?” he asked. Just make conversation, form a bond. It couldn’t be that hard.

Kazuma glanced at him. “Yes. He looks after the people. It’s not so bad for them.”
Shen snorted, he couldn’t help himself. “As long as they behave.”

“Of course. But the same would be true of villages under Earth Kingdom rule, would it not?
They would be expected to pay their taxes and adhere to the rules of the land.”

Shen sneered. “Yeah. The difference is, it would be their laws, their land, not yours. In this
situation, the people will always be second-class citizens in their lord’s eyes. They have no
real voice. They have to put up with acts of random cruelty on a whim.”

Kazuma frowned. “That is incorrect. The villagers operate under Fire Nation laws, it’s true,
but they are protected by those laws the same as any citizen from the mainland.”

“Right, sure,” Shen said with a considerable amount of scorn. He was aware being
argumentative was probably not doing him any favours, but he couldn’t help himself. “Not
sure I can trust the Fire Nation to care for civilians. I mean, what about the people you
murdered where I was taken prisoner? What did they do wrong? Seems like all they did was
sell their goods to soldiers. This isn’t the colonies. They were not under Fire Nation rule, they
didn’t break any laws, they weren’t fighting or resisting. They were just people. And you
murdered them.” Yeah, he was not doing so great at the forming a bond thing. But he was
pissed. The hypocrisy was worse to see in someone like Kazuma. And at least Ro knew what
he was doing was wrong, he knew and exploited the contempt for other nations in order to do
as he pleased with their people. It was evil, but honest.

Kazuma looked uncomfortable, as well he fucking should. “I was not there,” he said.

“That’s not an excuse. Ro may have murdered the people in that village, but you didn’t stop
it. Didn’t hold him accountable. That makes you just as guilty. He murdered children and
burnt their bodies.” He shook his head, so angry he could no longer even feel his own pain.
“Either the Fire Nation condones that behaviour, or what he did was illegal and you, as a
superior officer, should have taken action.”

This time there was a much stronger reaction. Anger and frustration were visible in Kazuma’s
eyes and the way his jaw clenched. He looked like he was searching for his words, struggling
to admit something rotten about his nation. But to give him credit, he did answer. “The way
things stand at the minute,” he said, slowly and reluctantly. “What he did was within his
orders.”

No crime committed from their side. The thought filled Shen with so much impudent anger.
How could murdering innocent children not be considered wrong? What made it worse was it
was clear Kazuma also thought it was reprehensible. The knowledge of what had happened
obviously upset him, but he had done nothing to stop it.

Shen breathed through his anger, tried to rein it in a bit, think through it. Aside from
murdering Ro and suffering the consequences, Shen wasn’t sure what the man could have
done if his orders were to allow it. He was in a similar position to Shen—he had enough rank
to command, but not enough to resist orders he didn’t like. There was no actual power there.

But even so, sitting back and allowing a slaughter did not seem like the correct action either
way. How could it be?
Thinking about rank and command brought Shen dangerously close to his own situation. He
had taken orders he had disagreed with, nothing to that extent, but still things he found
morally wrong. Like, for example, being expected to gain the trust of a traumatised boy in
order to use him as bait for his abuser. Although, given his current suspicions, he suspected
that might not have worked out for Huang as well as he might have been hoping. Shen’s
stomach churned, his thoughts leading him down the path he was trying to avoid: could he
discount the mission that had landed him in this situation in the first place? He had known it
was a trap. But Huang had ordered him to go, and he had led his men, his family, to the
slaughter. It was an awful thing to recognise.

He glanced at Kazuma again. The man’s eyes were distant, his jaw still clenched. Perhaps the
differences between Earth and Fire were not always so great. An uncomfortable thought.

Like Kazuma, if Shen had challenged his superiors over orders he strongly disagreed with, he
would have been demoted at best and executed at worst. But did that actually justify what he
had done? It wouldn’t have stopped the 54th being sent into battle, Huang would have done
that, regardless. His protests over using Zuli had made no impact. Would further resistance at
the cost of his position or his life have made any difference in the grand scheme of things? Or
would it just have given him a feeling of moral righteousness before the headsman’s axe fell?

He wasn’t sure, and he hated that, and he hated that he understood why Kazuma had that
faintly agonised look on his face as he thought about what Shen had said. He wasn’t sure if
that feeling of understanding made him feel hopeful or horrified.

Either way, he was still spitefully glad to see that Kazuma remained disturbed by the
discussion, his lips pursed and his face set in a small, unhappy frown. It wasn’t much to feel
satisfied about, but it was something, and he would take it.

Lao River Fort was an imposing structure, more so since its occupation. Where once it had
solid sandy coloured stone walls, it now seemed to have been coated with metal. It gleamed
with an edge of malice in the evening sun as they approached. It made strategic sense to
cover the walls when fighting earthbenders, but it was still ugly and more than a little
menacing.

Riding through the gate felt like an end to hope.

Red clad guards came to meet them in the courtyard, as one of Kazuma’s men helpfully
yanked Shen off his mount, nearly causing his knees to buckle. It had been a long and
uncomfortable journey. He just about managed to stay on his feet and keep his spine straight
while he waited, a feeling of equal parts fear and acceptance falling over him. There was little
to no chance now for any sort of escape plan that resulted in him surviving.

Kazuma spoke to several people, including a harried looking woman in red robes. She had
ink stains on her nose and sleeves. An administrator of some sort, perhaps? Kazuma nodded
to her, and she scowled at him. She looked fed up and rather like she wanted to slap him.
Kazuma turned away from her, deepening her scowl, and headed towards Shen. “Captain, I
trust the journey was not too arduous for you?” he asked, keeping up the faintly ridiculous
veneer of politeness.

“Quite pleasant actually,” Shen smiled insincerely. “Hardly felt the burns and broken fingers
at all. I wouldn’t mind some wine and a good meal, though. And then perhaps someone could
show me to my room?”

Kazuma’s lip twitched a little. “Someone will escort you to your cell. You will get food and
water. I assure you, you will be well treated.”

“Right up until the general decides to question me?”

Kazuma winced a little. “Yes,” he admitted. “General Tsing will return in a few days to a
week. Until then, I will ensure your wounds are cared for, and you remain in good health.”

“Thanks. We wouldn’t want me to take sick before the torture,” Shen said flatly. Kazuma
ignored the sarcasm and gave a short bow before striding off. The ink stained woman
followed on his heels, apparently berating him. Yeah, Shen had completely failed at the
building a bond thing, and any possibility of trying to get the man alone with his guard down.

One soldier stepped forward, rebinding his hands behind him as they were joined by two
others. They walked deeper into the fortress’s courtyard. Shen was bemused to see the two
newer ones were women. He knew that the Fire Nation employed female troops away from
the front lines, but he was still surprised to see them here.

The main building of the Fort was large and ornate, but it looked bleak in the dim light. Shen
wondered if he would see the sky again, as he was led down roughly hewn stone steps and
below ground.

“Are we sure this one can’t bend?” The man walking behind him said, giving Shen a little
shove. “Would be better to house him in the other cells, wouldn’t it?”

The older of the two women turned to him with an irritated expression on her weather-beaten
face. “Yes, we’re sure. Stop being lazy. We’ll take him to the appropriate cells. We will need
the other ones when they start bringing in prisoners from Ba Sing Se.”

“When the other prisoners arrive.” It sounded like the man spat on the stone beneath their
feet. “You keep saying that, but they never come. We’ve only had one for the last week.”

“Enjoy the quiet while you can. Once the action starts, we’ll be swimming in people.” She
snorted, annoyed. “They all come here before the important ones get sent on to the Fire
Nation.”

The younger woman, girl, really, she couldn’t have been a day over twenty, blew out her
cheeks, squinting a little as they walked. “What happens to the non-important ones?”

The man holding Shen’s bound wrists made a humming noise. “Into the river, if we’re lucky.”
The older woman scowled at him again, before angling her head towards her younger
companion. “Useful ones go to the camps at East Lake, and from there onto the mines or
other places.”

Those deemed not ‘useful’ probably did go into the lake. Shen had heard stories he had not
wanted to believe, but were far too easy to see as a reality right now.

The younger woman looked a little glum at that, which was nice. At least someone had
something vaguely resembling a conscience. Not that it made any difference, it was not like
she would do anything about it.

The cells were clean and dry, but there was a damp smell to them, and the stone felt thick and
oppressive. He assumed benders were taken to cells made of metal somewhere else in the
fortress, as these had stone floors and were set against a wall that seemed to be cut straight
from the rock-face. The cells themselves were separated by metal bars, and all but one were
empty.

A small, huddled person was curled in the last one, wrapped in a dull green threadbare
blanket. From his size and bearing, Shen had a horrible suspicion it was a teenager. Was it a
curse? Could you be cursed to forever have to deal with wayward traumatised teens? At least
he now had some practice.

“A cellmate for you, dirt rat,” the older woman said, kicking at the bars and making them
rattle loudly.

“Get fucked,” the boy said, without raising his head from out of his blanket bundle.

As Shen was unceremoniously shoved into his own cell, he revised his estimate of his new
companion’s age. Although muffled, the voice had been high, unbroken. So on the lower
range of the teen scale. Why were they locking up actual children? He briefly wondered if
Kazuma had been ordering the arrest of any kid likely to be the Blue Spirit, but that didn’t
make sense. It was only since the attack on the camp that he had come to that conclusion.

The soldiers departed, leaving them alone, with only the light of the torches by the door. It
took a few moments for Shen’s eyes to adjust, but at least they had not been left in the dark.

He lowered himself to the floor, back to the wall. Near to the kid, but not so close he seemed
like a threat—even with the bars between them, it seemed the polite thing to do. He was tired,
his body and wounds ached and he wished he could sleep, free of worry and pain, just for a
few hours. Instead, he stretched out his stiff legs and turned towards the kid. “Hi,” he said,
staring at the mop of dirty brown hair that was sticking out of the blanket ball. “I’m captain
Shen of...” he paused. Was he even of the 54th any more? Was there a 54th company at all,
seeing as most were dead or captured? He hoped and prayed to any deity that would listen
that some of his men had escaped. He wet his lips, embarrassed to feel tears prick the back of
his eyes. “Of the 54th company. Or what’s left of it,” he said, eventually. “And it’s been a real
bastard few days.”

The kid lifted his head to stare at him, face full of yellowing bruises. And damn it, Shen was
a moron. It wasn’t a boy; it was a girl, around Zuli’s age, probably. The injuries to her face
 looked like they were healing, so hopefully they hadn’t been putting her to the question.
Perhaps they were just holding her for some other reason, for some petty crime real or
invented, rather than as part of the war effort. He was suddenly very glad for the female
prison guards, although it occurred to him there was no privacy between the cells. If one of
them needed to use the chamber pot, it would become very awkward. The thought filled him
with sudden anger. What were these people thinking? It felt deliberate, something used to
dehumanise and cause discomfort and distress. But he knew it was equally possible that they
just didn’t care.

The girl looked at him, considering, her eyes taking in the tattered remains of his uniform, the
blood and yuk that had seeped through it before his wounds had been treated and bandaged
and his swollen left hand. “Nice to meet you,” she said after a very thorough examination. “I
would give you a tour, but what you see is what you get.” She waved a small hand at the
cells.

“You going to give me a name?” he asked. “Otherwise I’m just going to have to call you girl,
and that seems rude.”

She studied him again. “Suki,” she said eventually, giving him a casual two-fingered salute.
“Welcome to my humble abode.”

Chapter End Notes

Sorry for all the angst! Feel free to yell at me about it on tumblr!

Next chapter: We finally get to the rescue! Meanwhile, Shen and Suki bond and discover
they have some friends in common (with only a small amount of mistaken identity
involved!) And Kazuma gets a few more confusing pieces to a puzzle.
Please also Check out these amazing bits of art

Art By Cyuubi

Art By Maridarkmoon

Art by Chesnutbunny

And also Dr_Fumbles_McStupid has been recording a podfic of War Crimes, which can
be found HERE

Please go give them all some love <3

 Chapter 15
Chapter Summary

“One hair is not a moustache, Sokka.”

Chapter Notes

Warnings: bones being reset?

This chapter became very long, so I am going to post in two parts – it’s all finished, but I
might give a little bit more time to editing the second part. My poor beta reader is
wrangling quite a hefty word count at the moment!

I will try to answer comments more or less as they come in this time, (rather than
leaving them to the end like I normally do!) So don't be shocked if you actually get a
timely reply - although sorry if I stop half way though and it ends up being really late as
always!

And with that in mind, thank you for all your lovely comments, they make me so happy!
Also if you do any writing or art or other things related to this fic, please send me a note
and I will add a link in the fic if you are happy with that! Those that have already –
thank you so much for sharing!
Next part will be out next week.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

“Are you sure about this?” Shen asked the girl as she held one of his broken fingers in her
small, callused hands.

“Yep,” she said, with a great deal of authority for someone who was barely past puberty.
“Like I said, I trained with weapons that resulted in a fair few broken fingers. I know how to
reset a bone.” She prodded the most painful part, and Shen bit back a curse. “Yeah, this is
dislocated, not broken.” She poked it again. “Although there could be fractures and it really
should be splinted. But as we have nothing for that, we will have to make do.”

“I definitely heard something snap,” Shen said. He felt uncomfortable trusting a child to
make a medical diagnosis, and even less happy knowing that said child probably knew more
than he did. It was not a wonderful feeling, but the sensation of the broken—or dislocated
bones sitting so wrong in his fingers was far worse. If she wanted to play healer, he would let
her if it stopped the pain and gave his hand the chance to heal straight. He shifted a little,
trying to make himself comfortable on the cold stone.

“Okay, ready on three?” Suki said, still full of determined confidence.

“Rea-” he broke off as she forced the bone back into place, making him cuss loudly and in a
way Hakoda would probably have disapproved of, considering the age of his current
companion.

Rather than looking satisfied, Suki retched, twice.

“I thought you said you had done this before?” Shen scowled at her.

“Yeah, I have. Doesn’t mean I like it. Ugh, bones, hate them. I’m fine with blood and the
occasional internal organ being somewhere it shouldn’t, but broken bones make me feel
sick.” She shuddered, sticking her tongue out. “Right, let’s do the next one.”

“Are you going to puke on me?” The finger already felt better than it had. Perhaps she really
did know what she was doing.

“Maybe. I’ll try to aim away.” She grinned at him. “You smell bad enough already.”

“You’re one to talk.” He stuck his hand through the bars for her again and she took it in that
same firm, rough grip. “You smell a bit ripe yourself, almost like you’ve been sitting in a
prison cell for the past week.”

“Funny you should mention that, seeing that’s exactly what I have been doing.” She did the
awful twist and pull thing with his finger again and the joint snapped back into place with a
nauseating crunching feeling. Suki heaved again. “Ugh.” She took a few deep breaths,
presumably to settle her stomach. “I’m sure I smell better than you would after a week,
seeing as you already stink.”

Shen tried flexing the hand. The fingers were moving a little, but were still very swollen.
Hopefully, that would go down with time and rest. “You’re probably right. I was always told
women and girls didn’t even sweat, and when they did, it smelt like roses. I can now say that
theory is thoroughly disproved.”

She gave him an arch look, pursing her lips. “It’s so wonderful that after a week of solitude I
get a comedian for a cellmate.” She looked amused, and despite the retching, far more
relaxed than she had done. Some of the anxiety that had been hanging over their cell had
dissipated slightly with the banter, which was a relief. It was hard to be reassuring in these
circumstances, and he felt the overwhelming urge to help her feel safe.

They had already struggled through one awkward chamberpot use apiece. Although the girl
had been very calm and matter-of-fact about it, it was obvious she was uncomfortable. Shen
was too, but he figured he should just suck it up. If she wanted to act like it was nothing to
get upset over, he would take his lead from her.
He was resigned to discover that she inspired the same sort of annoying protective urges he
felt for Zuli. Perhaps it was from being an older brother, perhaps being a captain in charge of
young recruits. But it seemed picking up strays was going to be his thing now. He wasn’t sure
how he felt about that.

It was good to have a distraction, though, as his mind kept going to the fight in the village,
and to his men. He knew who had been captured, but he didn’t know if those who had not
been taken had escaped or died. It ate at him, along with the loss of those he had seen killed
outright. Their names wouldn’t stop running through his head.

So he was perhaps not in the best of moods when the door to the cell block creaked open and
Kazuma made his way down the steps. Suki roused herself at the noise, wrapping herself
tighter in her blanket and scowling at the captain as he approached. He was alone, which
would have been the perfect opportunity for Shen to attempt his shitty, desperate plan. Except
now there was a teenage girl picking the dirt out of her nails in a distinctly threatening
manner. Not exactly appropriate.

But seeing as seduction was apparently off the table, he felt he could give the bastard a piece
of his mind about the current situation. He glared as the man came closer.

“Captain Shen,” Kazuma greeted him, ignoring Suki. “I trust you have been treated well?”

“Yeah,” Shen agreed. “As well as can be expected while being held by a bunch of arseholes
with no morality or common decency,” He kept his voice obnoxiously sweet.

Kazuma’s lips turned down a little. “I feel like that’s a bit of an unfair opinion, you have not
been harmed in my care. And I consider my sense of morality to be high.” He sounded
offended. Perhaps he had expected more friendly conversation? Maybe Shen had actually
been onto something with the building a bond thing. Oh well.

“Yeah? So why did I have to get my dick out in front of a girl young enough to be my
daughter?” He asked bluntly. “Sorry,” he apologised to Suki, even though she had said far
worse than ‘dick’ in the first thirty seconds of meeting her, and he had been cussing up a
storm only a short time ago.

“No, no,” she said, waving a hand out of her blanket bundle. “Please don’t hold back on my
behalf.”

Kazuma looked slightly scandalised, but it was hard to tell why. The language? What Shen
had done? Being held to account again? Shen decided he didn’t care. “You put a grown man
and a little girl-”

“I do object to that,” Suki interrupted.

“-and a young girl in an open space like this? Doesn’t matter we’re separated by bars! I have
the decency to turn my back, but I can’t say the same for the next man you put in here. Or the
one after. You going to even bother keeping the cell segregated, or is it going to be a free for
all?” He was breathing hard. The situation was upsetting, but his anger went a little beyond
that. He couldn’t get the memory of Zuli’s injuries out of his mind. It felt like a lot of things
had been building up the past few days, adding to his continual disbelief that someone could
do that to a kid was his own fear while being tortured by the boy’s rapist, then his fear over
the thought of attempting to seduce Kazuma to escape. And finally, his fear for this girl, of all
the awful things that could happen to her at the hands of the guards, other prisoners. He felt
sick and furious and so fucking helpless.

“Why are you even keeping her here?” He demanded. “Are you planning to ‘question’ her as
well when the general returns?”

“No,” Kazuma said. His face was impassive and stoic again. “She will be sent to another
prison for her crimes. It’s only her age that has saved her from execution already.”

Shen snorted angrily. “And what crimes are those?”

“Murder. She killed three men.”

Suki cleared her throat, her eyes narrow where they peaked from the top of her blanket nest.
“I would like to point out that if your soldiers had not attacked the ferries taking civilians to
the city, I would not have had to defend them, and your men would not have been killed.”
She sneered eloquently, packing in a great deal of contempt. “How come it’s only murder if I
do it? And not when your soldiers burn desperate refugees just trying to reach a place of
safety?”

“They were not my soldiers,” Kazuma pointed out, almost reflexively.

“They never are, are they?” Shen said, his voice a lot cooler than the anger that burned in his
gut.

Kazuma got that pained, vexed look on his face again, the one that made Shen want to shake
him. If you know it’s wrong, do something about it. He stood for a moment staring at the back
of the cell, apparently lost in thought. “Despite what you might think of us, we are not
animals,” he said at last. “I won’t allow harm to come to the girl while she is in my charge.”

“Sorry if I don’t believe that. Experience tells me that’s exactly what you are.” Shen
shuddered a little as he remembered the feel of restraining Zuli as he thrashed and panicked,
the tight fear in his body as he strained against Shen’s grip, trapped in the memory of his own
trauma. And he remembered that spirit cursed cry of fear, pain and loss Sokka had made
when he had been reunited with his father.

Not animals. Right.

Kazuma must have seen something of that on his face. “I will ensure she is not hurt,” he said
after a moment, then he looked Shen in the eye. “And that her...dignity is preserved.”

“Bit late for that,” Shen pointed out.

“I know. I am sorry for that oversight. I will ensure it will not happen again.”

Suki had one eyebrow raised. Shen wasn’t sure if it was in incredulity or something else.
“And your other men?” Shen said, not willing to just let it go. “Or are you planning to sit by
the cage door and protect us?”

Kazuma looked at him like he was a very annoying child. But then made another of those
small facial twitches that on another man might be a pissed off grimace or an eye roll. “I will
give explicit orders when I leave and make the consequences of breaking them known. She
will be safe.”

Leave? The thought of that sent an embarrassing bolt of fear through Shen’s body. Kazuma
was decent for the Fire Nation, he was reasonable. Even if the result would be the same when
Tsing returned, at least until that time, he seemed keen to keep them safe from some of the
perils of imprisonment. “Why will you be leaving?” he asked, trying hard to keep the anxiety
out of his voice and off his face.

“I have delivered you here, which was my duty. But my task has always been to find and
arrest the Blue Spirit. The biggest lead I have is the boy in your general’s camp.”

Shen could feel cold settle in his gut like a winter storm. “I told you, those kids are too young
and inexperienced.”

Kazuma nodded. “That may be so, but I have to follow the one lead I have. And it may be in
your people’s best interest also, and the boys. If this Li is not the Blue Spirit, and he has
committed no crimes, I can keep him safe. As you pointed out, I outrank Acting Captain Ro.
Perhaps I can prevent too much unpleasantness.”

“You pretty much told me he’s allowed to do what he wants to whoever he wants, so don’t
bother lying to me. Or yourself,” Shen snapped. “Anyway, do you really think Ro will let you
have them?”

“I don’t want the Blue Spirit for the glory, he can have the credit if he wishes it.”

Shen shook his head, annoyed. “No, I don’t mean that. I mean, do you really think he will let
you take the boys? He needs them, he has to kill Li. He needs to recapture the other boy in
much the same way you need to catch the Blue Spirit.”

“He can have Hakoda, should we catch him. Then perhaps his son will be less important. I
will take Li into custody and question him.”

Suki jerked beside him, her eyes wide. Interesting. Did she recognise Hakoda’s name? She
hadn’t twitched over the mention of the Blue Spirit, and there were literally thousands of Li’s.
It would have to wait though. First, he had to finish ripping Kazuma a new one. “You are not
listening. Ro wants that boy. He will kill Li if he can, and if he thinks he will lose that
opportunity because you also want him, he will kill you as well.”

“He wouldn’t dare.”

“Kazuma,” Shen growled, frustrated beyond belief. He didn’t know why he was even
bothering. “He would dare. It’s life or death for him. He let that boy escape, if he doesn’t
recapture or kill him and get rid of the evidence, then he’s dead. He doesn’t want to be dead,
so he will murder anyone who gets in his way.”

“That would be suicide.”

“Only if he gets caught. He’s a man who will do whatever it takes to look after his own
interests. Unless you also plan to kill the boy, you will become an obstacle for him to
overcome.”

Kazuma seemed both reluctant to believe him and unable to hide the fact that he knew Shen
was telling the truth.

“Li is not the Blue Spirit,” Shen tried again. “He is just a kid, an escaped prisoner that Ro
could get in serious trouble over losing, and in even more trouble if the admiral finds out
what he did to him behind his back. They lied to you, to Tsing, in order to get your help. It’s
that simple.”

“Perhaps. But I need to be certain.” The man at least sounded slightly more pensive.

If he wanted to go die, then fine, let him. Shen didn’t think Ro would hesitate for a second.
He would enjoy killing one of his own as much as he would someone from the Earth
Kingdom. But Shen may as well try to get what he could from Kazuma while he could.

He pushed himself up awkwardly, making sure that his knees didn’t wobble with the
exhaustion he could feel tugging his limbs. Then he stalked towards the bars, keeping his
pace slow and his posture predatory. For a second Kazuma’s eyes dilated and his nostrils
flared, it looked like he was going to bolt, but he stayed where he was, looking like a startled
rabbit, before his training kicked in or he remembered there was thick metal bars between
them, and his eyes narrowed in irritation. Shen smiled, easy and a little cruel. Kazuma
swallowed visibly. “My fingers are busted. Have been for days. If you’re such a decent guy
who treats prisoners better than your peers, then bring me something to use as a splint.” He
leaned against the bars, maintaining eye contact. “Could use something more than rice to eat,
too.”

“Don’t push your luck, Captain Shen,” Kazuma said, his voice icy. But his eyes were
lingering on Shen’s swollen hand.

The captain left with whatever remained of his dignity. Shen wasn’t sure if antagonising him
like that had been the correct thing to do. But he was angry and tired and he hurt, and when
he spotted a chink in someone’s armour, he was trained to attack it.

“Wow, what was that?” Suki said, both her eyebrows reaching towards her hairline. “Do you
guys have some sort of, um, interesting history?”

Shen snorted. “No. I’ve known the man three days. But I figure, I spot a weakness, I should
exploit it.” he had momentarily forgotten he’d had an audience for that. He was clearly too
exhausted for rational thought.
She nodded, her eyebrows still arched and an entertained expression on her face. “Well, while
I’m not sure what the weakness is exactly, it’s clearly exploitable. I’m not certain if he was
ready to pee his pants or drop them.”

Shen stared at her, completely scandalised, and she laughed at him. He was horrified to feel
himself blush. “Suki!” he protested.

She scoffed. “I’m sixteen, not five. If you’re going to have some sort of weirdly threatening
sexually charged moment with our captor, I’m going to notice.”

“Let’s never bring this up again, okay?” Shen lowered himself to the cold stone floor again.
Stiff muscles protesting, and his burns throbbing. At least the pain in his hand was better than
it had been.

“No deal.” She looked delighted. “Who knew the big army guy would be such a prude.”

“I’m not a...” He took a breath. This was much worse than Zuli, who would just yell and then
probably blush and hide with any of this kind of talk. Teenagers, ugh. “Moving on,” he said.

“We’re coming back to it.”

“We’re really not.”

She was still wearing a wide grin, but it faded a little and her brow furrowed, turning a little
more serious. “You mentioned Chief Hakoda? And his son?”

So she had recognised Hakoda’s name. Did she know him? Or perhaps it was Sokka she
knew, which, while unlikely, would make more sense. Or was it unlikely? “Where are you
from again?” he asked. She was obviously a fighter. Women did fight in the Earth Kingdom,
but they tended to be farmers and villagers protecting their land, not highly trained warriors
like Suki appeared to be.

She didn’t reply, and he assumed she didn’t want to bring trouble to her people if he turned
out to be a traitor. But he could make a guess. “You know Sokka?”

Her eyes widened just enough to prove his point.

“You’re one of the warrior women he met.” He grinned, “The ones that stuck him in a dress
and nearly melted Li’s brain right out his ears?”

She snorted “Li?”

Shen relaxed a little. “I’m not privy to his real name. I had hoped he might share it with me at
some point.” He shrugged. “But events have overtaken us a little. Hakoda is looking after
them.”

She frowned. “Just the boys? Not Katara?”

“Sokka’s sister?”
“Yeah, is she okay?”

“I’m not sure. Hakoda isn’t grieving her, so I assume she remained in the North Pole.”

Her brow furrowed further. “It seems strange that she would remain there alone. How did
Sokka and…Li end up in the Earth Kingdom with Chief Hakoda?”

“They were captured by the Fire Nation in the battle for the North Pole. They escaped after
some time in captivity and I found them wandering the woods.” He still couldn’t quite
believe his luck running into Sokka the way he had. Whether finding Zuli had been good luck
or bad was very hard to tell at this point.

“Captured? Are they alright?” She asked, sounding worried. She must have seen something
on his face, because her expression became even more concerned. “Shen?”

“They’re okay. Recovering. But they were both hurt pretty bad. The men that held them...”
He trailed off, not wanting to go into detail, but still needing to warn, to express how bad
these bastards were. Perhaps it was leftover frustration from trying to knock that knowledge
through Kazuma’s thick skull.

“This is the man who is trying to recapture them?”

“One of them, yeah. He held me for a short while before Kazuma brought me here. Murdered
a whole village just because he could. Tortured the boys. It was bad, I won’t pretend it
wasn’t, but they will be okay. Hakoda is looking after them.” He hoped. He really couldn’t be
sure what had happened after he was taken, but he knew the man would be doing his best.

She seemed to read between the lines, that what had happened had been worse than he was
admitting. “They escaped then? Rather than being rescued, I mean,” she asked, after a
moment.

“Yeah. They leapt off a ship in the middle of the ocean and swam to shore.” He shook his
head at the insanity of that, and the desperation. “Not that I blame them. I would have rather
drowned than be in Acting Captain Ro’s company another hour, to be honest.”

“Appa wasn’t with them?” She asked, strangely intent.

“Who?” Shen asked, confused. Perhaps there had been more people in the group when she
had met them?

“Never mind, you would know him, if you were in the know.” She gave a small, strained
smile. “I wonder why Katara wasn’t with them?” she asked again. “I would have assumed
she would have launched a rescue.”

“They were at sea a long time. It’s also possible they were presumed dead, lost in the battle.
Sokka seemed to think that might have been the case.” He felt a grin tug his lip. “I never did
get a very good explanation about what exactly Li was doing in the North Pole, or how he
was captured. For a boy who’s shit at lying, he has managed to keep a lot close to his chest.”
He was hoping she might shed a little light on his unasked questions, but she ignored them
with a brazen determination. Clearly there was information he should know, and as he did
not, she was not going to share. “And Kazuma thinks one of them is the Blue Spirit?” she
asked. “That doesn’t seem likely.”

Shen shrugged. “He has a theory. You don’t think it’s possible?”

She shook her head, nose wrinkled. “The Blue Spirit has been in action too long. At least
according to the rumours I’ve heard. Not unless Sokka has a great deal more skill with the
sword than he had when we met.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “It’s...unlikely that either of the boys are the person they are hunting.”
There was no point in giving information to anyone, especially as he had no proof. It was still
possible he and Kazuma were way off base. Either way, while he didn’t think Suki would
betray them, he also didn’t really know her relationship with the boys, and didn’t want to take
the risk, nor put her in any danger.

She fell silent, lost in thought, and Shen scratched at the stubble on his chin. It had been some
time since he’d had the chance to bathe, and all of it had been arduous and stressful. Suki had
not been wrong about the smell coming off him. The beard growing through was annoying as
well. He liked to keep himself in order, and the minor inconvenience of not being allowed his
daily ablutions added a layer of stress, the same as the road had added a layer of sweat and
grime. Perhaps he could bully Kazuma to give them water to wash or a razor. No, probably
not that one. He may be a mostly decent man, but he wasn’t a fool. Well, not unless it came to
the Blue Spirit, apparently.

Shen had done what he could to get him to delay, or at least approach cautiously, but it had
probably not been enough. His forces, depleted as they were with Tsing away, were still more
than Ro had. If he returned to Huang’s camp, it put more than just the boys at risk. It could
fuck up the whole plan.

He tried to force down a wave of anger at Huang. The bastard had caused the capture of half
his men. Men that should have been helping guard the camp and undertaking their mission at
Ba Sing Se. Huang had sent them into a trap for petty reasons, and it could cost far more than
the lives of the 54th. Even so, it was Shen’s duty to try to keep Kazuma from returning with
reinforcements, even though the man himself was unlikely to survive his own countryman if
he captured Zuli.

Fuck it, he was just going to keep trying. If he couldn’t escape, he would try to use words.
Not his strong suit, but he didn’t have anything else.

………………………….
Sokka woke with the first rays of the sun streaming through the trees right into his eyes. He
was surprised he had fallen asleep at all. Even more surprising was the fact Zuko was still
sleeping, his head in Sokka’s lap. He usually woke with the dawn, but perhaps the emotional
strain of the last few days had knocked him out. Sokka leaned his head back against
Dumpling’s body, running a hand absently through Zuko’s short hair. He smiled a little as
looked down at him. They had formed a weird sort of circle, Zuko’s head on Sokka’s thigh,
Sokka’s on Dumpling’s feathery flank and the bird had reached her own big fat head around
to rest on Zuko’s back. No doubt enjoying the heat of lying on a firebender as much as Sokka
did. It made him feel warm and fond to look at them.

His gentle ruffling of Zuko’s hair seemed to have done the job that the sun had not, and
Sokka could feel his friend stirring, his breathing changing. Sokka was suddenly worried
about how things would be between them this morning. He had really gone in on him, on the
Fire Nation, which had the potential to cause some problems, but it was the follow up of
Zuko admitting the things that he had which was causing him the most concern. Just thinking
about it made Sokka’s chest feel tight and horrible, and a cold feeling slopped around in his
stomach like the stagnant liquid in his sister’s water skin.

“Sokka? What’s the time?” Zuko slurred, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes like a child.

“Time to get moving,” Sokka said. He felt uncomfortable and worried. When he got his brain
back in action, would Zuko be upset? Would he do as Sokka probably would if their positions
were reversed and hide in some way? Either through deflection or anger? They really didn’t
have time for either at the moment.

Zuko looked at him with a weird expression on his face, then leaned forward, squinting at
Sokka’s mouth. He reached out, and Sokka held perfectly still, unsure what was happening,
until Zuko pinched somewhere above his lip and pulled. “Ow!”

Zuko sat back, holding up his prize. A hair.

“That was my moustache!” Sokka complained, relief flooding through him at the chance to
push aside last night’s unpleasantness. It looked like Zuko was going for another tried and
true method: denial.

“It looked like a pube on your lip.”

“Don’t care! It was my moustache,” Sokka muttered petulantly. He wondered if his arguing
and complaining gave Zuko as much pleasure as it did him when Zuko grumbled or scowled.

Zuko’s face showed what he thought of that, his expression stern, even though he had red
lines from the seam of Sokka’s pants running up his cheek, which made him look rumpled
and adorable.

Sokka pointed a finger at him. “Don’t make that face at me. At least I can grow a
moustache.”

“One hair is not a moustache, Sokka.”

“Yeah? Well, I’ve never seen you shave.”

Zuko scowled, fierce and wonderful after the unpleasantness of yesterday. He leaned
awkwardly over Dumpling’s back to drag a bag into his lap, digging through it and taking out
Sokka’s razor. For a moment, Sokka thought he was going to shave his hairless cheeks in
ridiculous protest at Sokka managing to produce some facial hair while he had apparently had
failed to do so, but instead Zuko grabbed at him, dragging Sokka back until he was sitting
between his legs.

Fuck, he was strong. Sokka wasn’t a large person, but he wasn’t that different in size to Zuko,
and the arsehole could just manhandle him like he weighed nothing at all. It made him flush a
little, but he didn’t really want to investigate why that was. Embarrassment, probably.

Zuko shoved Sokka’s head forward, snapping open the blade and beginning their usual
routine of shaving the short parts of Sokka’s hair.

He was clearly using the ritual to bring some normalcy, to avoid the awkwardness last night
was sure to bring. It felt safe and good and helped banish some of the spectres of their
discussions.

“You want me to do yours after?” he asked, mostly joking. “You’d look good with a Water
Tribe style.”

Zuko actually paused, like he was thinking about it. “No,” he said at last. Sokka guessed the
idea had appealed to him on some level, but to take on the hair conventions of another
nation…that was perhaps a little too big a step to make. That he had even thought about it
was...interesting.

“How far are we?” Sokka asked as he dusted shorn hair off his shoulders, some of it had
escaped down the back of his shirt, and was sure to make him itch.

“Less than a day, only a few hours, maybe.” Zuko said, squinting at the sky.

That… was not a lot of time and there was thus far not a lot of plan. He hopped up behind
Zuko on Dumpling’s board back, and slid an arm around his waist. “We were going to make
it memorable. Any ideas?”

“Um, arson?”

Sokka snorted. Because arson, not firebending, the Blue Spirit didn’t do that, so it was just
bog standard arson. Amazing compartmentalisation.

He hoped the fort was further than a few hours away, they had a lot of planning to do.

Instead of planning, Sokka found himself dozing. He only woke when his pillow started
squirming around under his head. He blinked a little at the not inconsiderable smear of drool
he had left down Zuko’s shirt, and smacked his lips a few times, fuzzy with sleep. Zuko was
still shifting uncomfortably, and full wakefulness hit Sokka hard. He had fallen asleep leaning
against Zuko’s back, his arms around his waist, but one hand had fallen into his friend’s lap,
while the other had somehow wormed its way under his tunic, touching skin. Horribly,
horribly inappropriate at the best of times, but after last night, it felt even more improper.

He drew back, almost toppling off Dumpling completely. Zuko squeaked in alarm, which
would have been funny in other circumstances. He twisted in the saddle to stare back at
Sokka, his cheeks flushed a rich pink.

For a moment, Sokka forgot his chagrined guilt in a sudden burst of fear. He reached out a
hand and lay it on his friend’s forehead. He was hot, but then he was always hot, how could
you even tell? “Are you okay? Are you sick?” he asked. The panicked feeling was making his
breath come fast.

Zuko just looked confused. “I’m fine. Not sick.”

He didn’t sound sick. Actually, now Sokka had a moment to think, he realised he looked
more embarrassed than unwell. Embarrassment also made a person flush. Fuck. So, Sokka
might have a tiny bit of residual anxiety from the last time they had been alone in the forest
and Zuko had nearly died from fever. Good to know.

Now the panic was over, the awkwardness was back. Because Sokka had inadvertently sleep
groped his traumatized friend, and to make matters worse he really did also have to put an
arm back around his waist because otherwise he was liable to fall off the stupid fat bird they
were riding.

Zuko was still staring at him, face still red, and going redder, and Sokka still had a hand on
his forehead. He removed it. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Zuko turned back around, focusing on the scrubby path ahead of them. “I’m not
sick.”

“I meant I’m sorry for the, um…for when I was asleep.”

Zuko’s back stiffened slightly. “It’s fine. You weren’t conscious.”

“Yeah, but-”

“Just leave it.”

Sokka couldn’t tell if he was upset by the touching, embarrassed by it, or upset by Sokka’s
reaction. Either way, it felt like he needed to…explain? To give Zuko an opening to be angry
about it? He didn’t really know, he just felt profoundly uncomfortable.

He didn’t like talking about these things, but although he was reluctant to give credence to
anything Katara said, purely on the basis that she was his little sister and therefor wrong, he
did have to admit, bringing shit into the open could sometimes take the anxiety out of it, even
if it didn’t solve the problem.
He thought it was probably last night’s conversation that had made this an issue. Zuko
touched Sokka all the time. Perhaps not like that, but he manhandled him, like he had this
morning, he sat on him in an effort to both keep him still and threaten him, and he held him
while they slept.

Was it possible that Sokka was projecting his own distress into this situation? But then, what
had the blushing been about?

Tentatively he wrapped one arm around Zuko’s middle again. There was no objection and he
didn’t twitch under the contact. “Do you mind if I do this?” Sokka asked. “The touching I
mean. I sometimes forget to ask.” Not that Zuko ever asked him, he took whatever liberties
he wanted, and Sokka happily let him, because he enjoyed the physical contact. One month
of being starved of it had left him craving, the same way he was always hungry and worried
about where his next meal would come from.

The muscles under Sokka’s hand bunched and relaxed. “It’s fine,” Zuko said. A sentence that
was becoming increasingly annoying.

“More words,” Sokka prompted.

Zuko sighed, very irritated. “People didn’t touch me until now. Until you.”

“Because you were a prince?”

Zuko nodded, steering Dumpling carefully around a fallen tree. “When I was younger, my
mother did, my sister and my cousin. Then later, sometimes my uncle would hug me. But I
didn’t want him to. It felt like a weakness. My father would have disproved.”

“Do you find it unpleasant?” Sokka didn’t think he did, from his reactions, but it should be
his choice whether to acknowledge that.

“No, I like it. But sometimes...” He broke off and tipped his head back, looking up at the tree
canopy. “Sometimes it feels like too much. But I do like it.” He twisted so he could look
Sokka in the eye. “And if you ever repeat that, or take advantage of it, I will pull your guts
out through your ears and feed them to Dumpling.”

“Isn’t she a vegetarian?”

“She will make an exception.” Zuko leaned forward and petted her feathery neck. “Won’t
you, Dumpling?” he said in a soft voice. The bird rumbled and puffed her feathers.

It all made Sokka’s chest feel a little squishy. “Sure, Zu, whatever you say. I’m trembling in
my boots.” He relaxed, leaning forward and holding on a little more firmly, pushing his face
into his friend’s strong back and inhaling the comforting smell of him. Actually, after two
days without washing, it was kind of stinky and sweaty, but somehow still safe and familiar.

“Why do you always have to butcher my name? It’s not that hard to say,” Zuko groused at
him.
“Pet names are terms of endearment,” Sokka said. Because it suddenly occurred to him the
backwards moron might not actually realise that.

“Oh.”

“When I call you Sunshine, or Zu, or even Zuli, it is to show affection, not to mock. Well, I
admit, if I call you Zuli, it is with a certain amount of gentle mockery, but that’s it. Even
when I call you a jackass, it’s meant as a joke between us, not a slight against you.” Most of
the time.

Zuko was quiet a moment. “I do know that. I know when you call me Sunshine you mean it
as a joke. Like when Shen calls me Zuli, I know he’s doing it to wind me up, but he means it
as a joke with affection.”

“If it bothers you, I’ll try to hold off.”

“No, it’s okay,” Zuko said, after some thought. Then he leaned back into Sokka’s arms a
little, letting him take his weight for a moment. Sokka held him tighter. The gesture felt far
more than physical, and it filled Sokka with a feeling he couldn’t put a name to. A good
feeling, something reassuring and strong.

They stopped within sight of Lao River Fort, nestled between the river and the mountains. It
was…intimidating. It would have been quite menacing to see even if they didn’t have the
harebrained idea to break into it. But no, that was what they were going to do.

They were totally going to die.

Zuko had led them to a ledge off one of the mountain paths, high up and overlooking the
fortress from a distance, as it glinted angrily in the afternoon light. It was an ugly and very
solid-looking structure, with a high wall running across the perimeter.

Zuko slid off Dumpling’s back, fishing a pocket telescope out of his pack and settling in to
watch. Sokka made a grab for it, making Zuko snarl at him. Up close, the building didn’t look
any less impenetrable. And Sokka was forced to fight down a wave of anxiety.

“So, do we have a plan?” he asked. “Because I’ve got to admit, as things stand right now, I’m
feeling a little…” Dubious? Terrified? Like we might both get caught and executed?
“Uncertain,” he finished diplomatically.

Zuko pushed back from the ledge. “Let’s clear a space on the ground, I’ll draw a map for you
to study.”

Zuko was a pretty intense person on a normal day. Zuko mission focused was intense enough
to make all the hair on Sokka’s body stand up like static. He had sketched out all three levels
of the fort from memory, carving into the firm ground with his belt knife. He had marked out
areas of increased security, locations for shelter or escape and all the blind spots one could
use when indulging in a little breaking and entering.

Sokka was impressed, and having some visuals calmed him a little. He worked on
committing the map to memory while Zuko went back to watching the movements of the
troops through his telescope.

“We’re in luck,” Zuko said after a while. “I think it’s just a skeleton crew.”

“How do you mean?”

“Tsing’s standard is absent, his flag. And there are fewer soldiers than I would expect. He’s
not here.”

“Are we sure this is where Shen and the others will have been taken?” Because if they broke
in and they weren’t even there to be rescued, that would be a less than productive use of their
time. Especially if they got caught and murdered.

“Yes.” Zuko sounded completely sure. “I will break them out. You will need to go and hunt
for news on my uncle.”

“Wait, you want us to split up? That doesn’t sound sensible.” That sounded terrifying and
disastrous. Although it would give Sokka the opportunity to look for information on the
Avatar without Zuko also seeing it, giving Sokka a little more control over the next step in
their journey—assuming they survived this one.

“We’ll only have a short time. The longer we’re there, the more risk there will be.”

Sokka wanted to protest further, but he could actually see the benefit. And it had to be that
way around, Zuko would be more likely to have to fight his way out, if they had a bunch of
possibly injured soldiers to rescue. Whereas Sokka could probably sneak—if he was lucky.
Zuko was also trusting him to get information on Iroh, which was possibly one of the most
important things in his life right now.

He couldn’t let him down.

Luckily, he had some ideas of his own. “Okay,” he said slowly. “So, running with your arson
plan? My father gave us some exciting items. I assume you know how blasting jelly works?”

“Yeah,” Zuko shifted his intense concentration to Sokka. He looked intrigued. “Well, in
theory. I know it explodes.”

“Yeah, that’s mostly what you need from it, I guess. This is dry stuff, but it does much the
same.”

“Like the shit they put in fireworks?”

“Yeah.” Sokka had discovered fireworks in the Earth Kingdom, and he loved them. His urge
to take them apart and examine every bit had been prevented by…well, mostly by Zuko
chasing them and Katara worrying at him about blowing his hands off. One day he would get
the chance, though.

He pulled out some long, thin, waxed ropes. “These are wicks we can use to make a fuse.
They can run for however long we want, as long as we cut it.”

“Your dad gave you this? Has he not noticed how clumsy you are?”

“Shut up, you,” Sokka said without rancour. “You have to admit it's something that could
come in useful, fighting fire with fire and all that.”

“It could be useful,” Zuko agreed, his voice vague. Sokka could almost see the cogs whirring
behind his eyes. Thinking up a no doubt batshit insane plan.

“I was thinking we could use it as a distraction, to make the soldiers believe they were being
attacked from a different direction, while we make our escape.”

Zuko nodded. “We can make it go further. They will have blasting jelly stored in the keep.
That will make a much bigger bang.”

“A very big bang.”

“Yes.” Zuko glanced around. “Some of these mountain paths can easily be blocked by
rockfall, too. We could prevent pursuit to some extent.”

Sokka felt a little thrill of excitement, the way he felt when something started to come
together. “Yeah, okay. Next important question: how do I gain access to the information I
need? I doubt it’s just going to be somewhere I can swan in and take it.” He looked at the
map again. “You think it will be in Tsing’s study? How do I get in?”

“Pick the lock.”

“Yeah, I don’t know how to do that.”

Zuko sat back, and pulled out a leather pouch, he flipped it open to show Sokka. Inside were
some interesting looking tools. “Did you take those from the 54th’s tents?” Sokka asked. That
must have been where he had found the telescope too.

“Yeah. They’re for picking locks. I can show you how.”

“Um, you can show me how in theory, but not in practice, because we don’t have an actual
lock.” The thrill of excitement was turning rapidly back into fear. “Also, even if we practise,
how do we know it will be the right kind? If you’ve broken in before, maybe he will have
replaced it with something better.”

“Then you’ll find another way,” Zuko said with the confidence of a complete lunatic. That
thrill feeling was now teetering on the edge of panic. But Zuko seemed calm, if very intent.
He didn’t seem to have any doubt that this was doable. He began sketching in the dirt again,
this time, the inner workings of a lock.
Sokka could do this. He could. He didn’t really have a choice.

………………………..

“What do you mean gone?” Ro said, his voice losing the cool tone he had been aiming for as
a feeling of rage rose up his throat and into his mouth. He was so angry he could feel the
sparks on his tongue.

The newly promoted Lieutenant Zhiming looked a little green. “Gone, Captain. None of the
scouts have seen them. The Earth General has been shouting about it all morning, and there
seems to be some division between the Earth and Water Tribes.”

“Division how? Could they be hiding within the camp?”

Zhiming visibly swallowed. He kept his eyes pointed somewhere over Ro’s left shoulder. Too
afraid to even glance at him. “The Water Tribes have gone back to their boats. It is possible
that Hakoda has stashed the boys on his ship, but the general doesn’t seem to think so.”

He would have to send out scouts immediately to see if they could pick up Zuko’s trail if he
really had escaped from the camp. It made sense that he would do so, as it would only be a
matter of time before he was discovered and exposed, and then no doubt summarily executed.

But could he be certain Hakoda wasn’t hiding his son on a ship?

“Bring me a Water Tribe prisoner,” Ro said. “Today, we can’t wait. I need a man who has
been on those boats. And in the meantime I want people to search the perimeter of their camp
and see if you can pick up any clues.” He shifted his weight, amused to see his lieutenant’s
breathing increase in speed with anxiety. “Ready the troops, just in case. The longer we wait,
the colder the trail gets.” He could not afford to lose them. His life depended on it.

“Yes, Captain.” Zhiming practically fell over himself trying to get out of the tent.

Ro sighed. Although he enjoyed the fear he inspired in his men, he did miss Chen’s steady
disinterest. It was much easier to bounce ideas off someone who wasn’t a snivelling mess all
the time.

They had found his first lieutenant's body by the river. Stabbed in the back, with his throat
slit. An interesting death. Ro had wondered if it had been at the hands of one of the boys.
Chen was supposed to hunt for them specifically, but somehow he couldn’t see Zuko stabbing
someone in the back, it wasn’t his style. In fact he couldn’t really see the brat killing anyone
at all. He was weak. Full of hot air, for sure, but he had never even disciplined his men
properly when they disobeyed him or showed disrespect. Pathetic really. It was shocking he
had not suffered a mutiny. That had probably been Iroh’s influence.
 Perhaps the water whelp had found his teeth instead. Stabbing someone in the back was
exactly the sort of dishonourable thing he would expect of a savage. The idea entertained
him, his little rat taking a bit of vengeance on the people who had harmed him, all the while
keeping Zuko’s secret.

The attachment between the two boys baffled him. What could they possibly be gaining from
it? Perhaps the Water Tribe boy was holding the threat of discovery over Zuko’s head to force
him into compliance? It was what Ro would do, and it made a certain amount of sense.
Having that sort of control over his enemy’s son would be a pretty heady experience, coupled
with the chance for revenge. Ro shivered to think about it, about what he would do if he had
that opportunity.

But if that was the case, then it would be most likely that both possibilities about the boy’s
whereabouts were true; that Zuko had escaped, and the other boy had stayed. If that was the
case, then his theory would be proved correct. If they had both left, then it was some other,
more complicated bond holding them together. It would be quite disappointing if that was
true, but either way, it would remain to be seen. He needed a Water Tribe savage to question.

He liked Water Tribe prisoners. They tended towards defiance, and you could draw out
crushing them, body and spirit. But he was not going to have that luxury this time. He would
have to break him quickly, a shame, but it would offer a good few hours of entertainment.

And then they would know if they had to hit the road.

Chapter End Notes

Next part –is the second half of this one! Sokka does some breaking and entering, and
Suki and Shen get a visiter. Kazuma’s life gets more complicated
 Chapter 16
Chapter Summary

Sokka was smart, Sokka could plan, and yet here Sokka was, staggering through a
drainpipe in the dark.

Chapter Notes

I completely failed to answer comments as they came in, sorry about that! In my
defence, it was a bastard of a week and I had no brain left. But I love ever single one of
your comments, they bring me joy, so thank you!

Warnings: Violence, death, fighting, explosions, some mayhem.

Many thanks to my beta burkesl17, who has managed to wrangle my dyslexic nonsense.
All mistakes are my own.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Sokka could admit he was shitting himself. He was not good at sneaky. Zuko was correct
when he repeatedly called him clumsy and made fun of him falling over his own feet. Since
they had parted ways, Sokka had tripped down a small ravine and stumbled into a ditch,
completely soaking his boots and most of his pants.

And yet here he was, about to break into a fucking fortress. Sneakily.

So far, Zuko’s instructions on how to get where he was going had been accurate. The map he
had produced was impressive – he’d apparently been telling the truth about remembering
visual things, even though verbal ones seemed not to stick so well. Sometimes Sokka wished
they had enough time to really dig around in that head of his, his brain worked so differently,
it was fascinating. But now was probably not the time to be dwelling on it.

He had reached the drainage pipe he was going to use to attempt to enter the fort. It was not
large, although Zuko had assured him once inside it became tall enough to walk through
without issue. There was a rusted metal grate over the front of the entrance, held closed with
a hooked bolt. He’d had two hours of theoretical lock picking practice. It was time to put it
into action.

Zuko’s descriptions of the way the inside of the mechanism would feel were also surprisingly
accurate, this one seemed to be simple, only a few pins to lift. Even so, it took him a while to
get used to the right amount of pressure he needed to use, and the way the pins felt when he
poked them with one of the shiny metal tools in the kit Zuko had given him.

The lock clicked open and Sokka got a tremendous rush of satisfaction. Then he stared at the
open grate and the shadows beyond, and the feeling returned to anxiety. Was he seriously
going to do this?

Yep, looked like he was.

He slung his sword through first, then his bag, before wiggling his way inside. His shoulders
were just a little too wide to fit through the entrance comfortably, but he managed with a bit
of creative squirming. The last time Zuko had used this had been a year ago, he must have
had a growth spurt since then. Sokka hoped Zuko had a different exit strategy, because there
was no way Shen was going to fit through there. Turned out he had been right though, Sokka
could stand up after a short time. Thankfully, it wasn’t full of sewage, but seemed to be a
sluice pipe to get rid of rain or flood water, and it was currently pretty dry, although it was
still damp and smelled unpleasant.

Also dark.

He hadn’t thought about that, and he really should have. Zuko would have been able to bend
himself some light, but Sokka was completely blind. Lovely. It would do wonders for his
anxiety to feel his way into the huge murder fortress.

He walked slowly—although he knew they were working to a schedule and time was of the
essence, he couldn’t make himself go any faster in the darkness. Stupid Zuko and his lack of
a proper plan. It seemed to be catching. It wasn’t that they didn’t have a plan, because they
did. And Sokka has added what contingencies he could, but there remained a huge lack of
actual substance to it, because they were missing so much information. They knew the
security and layout from a year ago. They suspected Shen and the 54th had been imprisoned
there. They suspected Sokka would find the information he needed in Tsing’s office. But how
heavily guarded was it? Was it still in the same place? What were the soldiers’ movements?

Rather than being stressed by the lack of knowledge, Zuko had looked bright eyed and alert.
He was pumped up with excitement and adrenaline, but Sokka just felt like he might puke.

The only time Zuko had looked as concerned at all was when he had grabbed Sokka’s face
hard enough to bruise and pushed their foreheads together. Sokka had figured out that this
was his way of trying to show the affection that he didn’t know how to properly express, and
as always, he was a little too heavy-handed with it. Sokka felt like his forehead might still be
a little swollen from the unintended impact and subsequent squishing.

“Don’t die, Sokka,” Zuko had said, very serious and staring right into Sokka’s face from a
few millimetres away.

That was not as encouraging as he had probably hoped. “Same, right back at ya.” Sokka had
tried for a smile, it might have fallen a little flat. “I just want you to know this is insane.”
“It will work. I’ll leave Dumpling up towards the mountain path, along with some explosives.
Set them if you arrive back first. The rest I’ll deal with. Get out if you can, but if you run into
any problems, lie low and wait for my signal.”

“Which will be?”

“Boom.”

Sokka had sighed affectionately. “I need to remember not to listen to your plans.”

“We’ll be fine.” Zuko had drawn away, given a short wave and left without looking back.

Now, staggering through a smelly, dark passage, Sokka quietly cussed him out, and himself
too. He knew Zuko tended to go in half cocked and fly by the seat of his pants. The guy had
never had a bad idea he didn’t at least have a bash at. He should not let his friend’s
enthusiasm, deranged optimism and pure force of will blind him to the fact he was a moron.
Sokka was smart, Sokka could plan, and yet here Sokka was, staggering through a drainpipe
in the dark.

He was just gearing himself up for a further diatribe on Zuko’s stupid everything, when he
realised he could see. The light was faint, but it was there. Slowly, as he approached the
source, the walls of the pipe began to become more distinct. The light was coming from what
must have been the first of the storm drains Zuko had described. It looked like night had
fallen outside, and the light shining down into the tunnel was the warm glow of torches. The
one he was after was further along, so he reluctantly moved back into the darkness and kept
shuffling forward.

When he reached the fourth, he stopped to listen carefully. There was little noise, just the
occasional shout of one man to another. Distantly there was a bell, it rang three times and cut
off. Perhaps calling people for dinner or some other army activity. The thought of the people
up there going about their daily business was anxiety inducing.

This drain would theoretically open into a blind spot, not seen from above, but if a man
happened to be walking past when Sokka pushed up the grating, he was screwed. He was
going to have to chance it. There was no way to actually see without opening the damn thing.

He used the blunt side of the knife Zuko had given him to work the grate open. It was solid
and comforting in his palm. Carefully and very slowly, he lifted the metal until he could see
out. He was in a shadowed corner of a courtyard, it looked like it might be used for excess
storage, or a place for the big beasts to be stashed if whatever passed for the stables were full,
at least judging from the hay and the faint lingering smell of dung. Sokka supposed stables
meant for ostrich horses probably struggled with giant komodo rhinos.

There was no sign of any people, so after a moment to gather his courage, Sokka slipped out
and into Lao River Fort.

The first stage was surprisingly easy, and he was quite proud of his sneaking, actually. Sokka
suspected if Tsing and the majority of his soldiers had been in residence, it would have been
another story, but Zuko had been correct—this was just a skeleton crew. It was only when he
made his way up a dusty, disused staircase, through another locked door and up to the long
hallway that contained Tsing’s office (Third door on the right, unique lock) that he saw
people. They were not soldiers, for the most part; a few scurrying servants, and a bunch of
robed men and women carrying papers. Some sort of administrators, Sokka guessed.

He watched from his sheltered spot by the stairwell and did his best to observe movements,
but unlike guards, these people were not running to any sort of predictable schedule. He was
going to have to just choose a moment and do it. The thought made adrenaline hit his system
so hard it made his vision a little fuzzy. He clutched his picks, tried to envision the
mechanism Zuko had drawn for him, all the detailed instructions. A door opened and two
people stepped out, arguing.

“Ichika, stop haranguing me!” an exasperated man’s voice said.

“You are asking for trouble, mark my words. When the general returns, he is going to be most
displeased, and all you can do is worry about inconsequential things,” a woman replied. She
sounded angry, but the sort of angry where it was not really your place to express it, and you
had to hold back.

“Decency is never inconsequential.”

“It is when it could have consequences. Do you… ugh.” The woman took a deep breath.
“Fine, play your honour games, waste your time. I will try to head off any unpleasantness.
But you better be gone when he gets back.”

Their voices faded, and a door slammed. Sokka took a long breath, then another, then his feet
were moving before he could give it further conscious thought. Striding quickly and
confidently across the hall. (Look like you're supposed to be there, even though you’re clearly
not. Often, people don’t even notice you as long as you appear like you belong.) But that was
easy to say. Sokka was completely exposed in the hallway. And there was a world of
difference between walking confidently down a corridor to obviously trying to break into a
room. Not much hiding what he was about. Gift of the gab or not, if he was discovered, he
was fucked.

Breathing deep, Sokka knelt by the door and fumbled out his picks. His hands were shaking,
making it very difficult to even get the tension wrench into the hole, let alone the pick itself.
He breathed, focusing as much as he could on calm. It didn’t help with the shaking, but it did
steady his mind a little, and he got the metal instrument into the lock, feeling carefully for
resistance. His hands were sweating and he could feel a cold drop running its way down his
back under his shirt, making him shiver. He fumbled the pins and the lock snapped back.

Stay calm, deep breath. Sokka began again, feeling with the tool, gentle and cautious,
exerting just the right pressure on the tension wrench with his other hand. (Softly, like you're
holding a butterfly, got to keep it trapped, but too tight and you’ll crush it.) Yeah, Zuko had
probably read even more poetry than Sokka had, the sap. It made him grin despite the
situation he was in. The third pin lifted with his pick, no resistance on the fourth, the fifth
lifted. Each tiny click made his heart race. He had a feeling in other circumstances, he would
actually quite enjoy this. It was like a physical puzzle played through touch. And as soon as
they were somewhere safe, with five minutes of leisure, he was going to get himself the best
lock he could find and dissemble it. He wondered if he could make one to resist this kind of
thing. He could make a killing selling an unpick-able lock.

The final pin clicked up, and the mechanism turned. Sokka shoved the door open and
scrambled inside like he was being chased by the whole Fire Nation army.

Only when it shut behind him did he feel the dizzy sense of relief, followed by a wave of
satisfaction and pride. He had done that well, despite his fear.

It was a fancy room, the sort he had come to except from military types with an inflated sense
of ego. The desk was beautiful, with twisting carvings of birds running the length and breadth
of the dark wood. The matching chair was equally ornate, with the seat upholstered in a red
material. It looked comfortable, so he sat in it. He was sure Tsing would have apoplexy if he
knew some Water Tribe savage had put his butt on such a special chair. The thought pleased
him.

There were some locked draws in the desk. (There are draws inside the draws, hidden
compartments, that’s where the good stuff will be.) Sokka ignored them for now and turned to
the paperwork that was on view, reports piled on one side, some unopened scrolls on the
other. He flicked through those first.

It looked like the general had been trying to stop refugees from entering Ba Sing Se. He had
sunk the ferries and was rounding up any men or women of fighting age and ensuring they
would not reach safety. What happened to them was unclear and what became of any
dependents; the children or elderly that may have been travelling with them, was equally ill-
defined in the report, but Sokka had the distinct impression it was nothing good. There were
letters from someone called Captain Ping, about the general’s son. The words headstrong and
violent came up a few times. They did seem to make them like that in the Fire Nation.

There was nothing on Iroh, but there were reports of Avatar sightings. Unfortunately, in true
Aang fashion, they appeared to be all over the place, but it was reassuring to know he was
alive and still out there, causing trouble.

Next, Sokka opened the draws. This was a far smaller lock, requiring a different tool, but it
was a lot simpler than the external door. The draws had much more detailed intelligence,
more interesting Avatar encounters. There were a couple of particular import, the first
mentioned a waterbender causing havoc in some town—very good evidence Katara was
alive. The feeling that washed over him reading that was indescribable. He tried not to worry
about her because doing so had a tendency to pull him into a pointless hole of fear and doubt
where he could do nothing to change the situation. But this helped ease tension he had not
really realised he had been holding. They had survived the North Pole; they were still
moving, still fighting.

The next scroll not only mentioned a waterbender, but also a firebender, fighting together
against some group called the Rough Rhinos. The report seemed to be third hand, and
described the firebender as portly, with his face obscured by a large, obnoxiously bright
feather hat. Sokka was not sure what to make of it. Had Aang found a firebending teacher
against the odds? Or had he teamed up with someone like Jeong Jeong again? Impossible to
know. If he had already found a teacher, it lessened Sokka’s bargaining chip when it came to
convincing the group to let Zuko stay. Of course, if he didn’t have to convince Zuko to
become Aang’s teacher, Sokka’s life would probably be a lot easier. He had some ideas about
making convincing arguments against Ozai, although it was going to be delicate—last night
being a prime example of going in too hard, but convincing him to actually teach Aang? That
would be…tricky.

Putting the thought aside for now, Sokka went back to the scrolls. There was a list of
executions and prisoners of note. Iroh’s name did not appear to be on it. That proved nothing,
of course, it was possible they had killed him quietly in the hopes that the people wouldn’t
notice, as they apparently held affection for the old man. Still, his name not being on the list
had to count as good news, it increased the chances Zhao had been lying.

Zuko had been correct about where the good stuff was kept. And by good, Sokka meant
horrifying. He clutched at the papers in his hands, feeling dread bubble into his belly. There
were complicated schematics of some huge machine, its rotating head was clearly designed to
bore a hole through the city walls. If they put this into action, they might take Ba Sing Se. If
the Earth Kingdom lost the city, it was clear they would lose the war.

Sokka was going to have to take these papers. He had to warn his father. He had to warn the
Earth King. How the fuck was he going to do that?

With foreknowledge, there had to be something they could do to stop it, to protect against it.

He stuffed the drawings into his pouch. There would be no hiding the fact they had been
taken when someone looked, but hopefully that wouldn’t be until Tsing got back from
murdering refugees or whatever horrible shit he was up to.

Perhaps, if they rescued Shen and the 54th, they would be able to take the news back to
Sokka’s dad. And Sokka could try to get to Ba Sing Se. Accessing the city might be tricky as
the ferries were out, but people always found a way. There would be small boats, or tunnels,
or something. He would get in. It was also a good place to find more Avatar sightings. Of
course, there was also going to be a horrible battle there, so it was likely to draw Aang and
Katara like moths to a flame, they were quite predictable when it came to heading into the
biggest ball of chaos, or perhaps, the place where they could help the most people.

Speaking of flames. He was unsure if he should tell Zuko of his find. Sokka trusted him with
his life, he would trust him with his father’s life, Katara’s even. But this could put his friend
in a tough spot. He had made it clear he was still in support of his nation, despite what they
had done to him. Could he be trusted with information about the war? Sokka was reluctant to
admit he wasn’t completely sure. It wasn’t that he thought Zuko would betray him, not on
purpose, and not directly, but it would put him in a pretty awkward position, where to not act
against Sokka meant he was committing treason. Given his current state of mind, yesterday’s
revelations and the small positive shift that had been made, Sokka didn’t think it would be
very beneficial to put that on him.

He shook his head. This was another tomorrow problem. He would make a decision later,
when he was free of this place. He moved to the window, the moon was bright and full and
Sokka wasn’t sure how much time had actually passed. Probably too much. He needed to get
out.
He was reaching for the door when he heard the key in the lock. He leaped back, heart in his
throat as he flicked open his knife. It was far too crowded in the study for a sword fight,
instantly putting him at a disadvantage.

“I’m sure I locked that...”

Sokka was only half aware of the woman’s voice as she entered the room, scowling at her
key like it had betrayed her somehow. He darted forward, putting the knife across her throat,
and nearly accidentally slitting it in his haste. He probably should have, because now what?
She could be a bender, a fighter, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to murder a random
servant in cold blood.

The woman had frozen with a gasp as he had grabbed her. Her skin was almost cool where it
touched his own. Not a bender.

“What do you want?” she asked. There was a thin, high thread of fear in her voice, but it was
clear she was trying to remain calm. Sokka could feel her swallowing convulsively where his
fist touched the side of her neck.

“I was just leaving,” Sokka told her, his breath ruffling the stray hairs that had fallen out of
her topknot.

“My name is Ichika,” she said. “I’m just a secretary. What do you want from me?”

Not a soldier. He was irrationally angry that she had given him her name, it made killing her
even harder—which was no doubt why she had done it. But now what? He couldn’t let her
go, and he didn’t want to execute her. “Put your hands on your head and face the wall,” he
told her, trying to make his voice sound deeper, more threatening.

She did as he asked. Sokka pulled out one of the fuse ropes he had kept, it was a shame to
waste it, but he didn’t have many options. He had to put his knife away to bind her hands
behind her back, but she didn’t resist. Maybe he could tie her to the chair? Then he could
leave her here. Someone would find her eventually, but probably not for a good few hours at
least. He just needed enough time for both himself and Zuko to get clear.

Once he had her secured to the fancy chair, he stepped back into her line of sight to admire
his handiwork. His prisoner was a severe-looking woman, probably in her fifties, her hair
was pulled away from her face in a topknot, although some seemed to have escaped in wispy
tufts. Her stern visage was ruined lightly by a smear of ink on her jaw and some smudges on
the red sleeves of her robe. She stared back at him, looking surprised.

“How old are you?” she asked, sounding vaguely appalled. Her face was as scandalised as
her voice. “You’re a child.”

“Old enough to sneak into a fortress and take you prisoner!” Sokka told her indignantly. He
was so fed up with being short, he was ready for a proper growth spurt.

The woman stared at him. “Ash and bone, Kazuma was right,” she muttered. “Are you the
Blue Spirit?”
It was Sokka’s turn to stare. “No? The Blue Spirit has a mask and two swords. I just have the
one.” He pointed to it rather stupidly. “And no mask!” He really should have worn a mask.
But the possibility of being able to bullshit his way through things if he was spotted was not
something that would have worked if he was wearing creepy, grinning, theatre get up. “I
should probably have a cool name though,” he said. Yeah, not the time to be thinking about
that, but sometimes his brain and his mouth didn’t always agree.

Her eyes narrowed. “There were two boys. One, a mixed blood kid from the colonies, the
other Chief Hakoda’s son. You are Water Tribe, are you not?”

Oh crap. “No?” He didn’t even sound convincing to himself.

“Is this another raid?” Now she looked concerned. Her fear seemed to have diminished once
she realised her captor was a kid, but now it was back. Why?

“Just taking back some stuff that doesn’t belong to you,” he said. Them knowing Li, a half
Earth kid from the colonies was the Blue Spirit was not that much of a big deal. Aside from
the fact they would be hunting a teen rather than an adult, there were a lot of mixed blood
teenagers out there, and a bunch of them were probably called Li. But Sokka being associated
with him? Visibly Water Tribe? That made them easier to find. Perhaps he should kill her. It
would be the sensible thing to do. He just wished she had fought him, rather than just giving
up and letting him bind her.

Because now, he just couldn’t.

“Why does it worry you that this could be a raid?”

She shook her head. “It’s bad for morale.”

She was lying. But he didn’t have time to press her on it. He barely had any time at all. “I
have a question. If you answer truthfully, I’ll let you live.” he said.

She looked like she knew he was lying, and that she would live anyway, but she nodded,
letting him cling to the illusion.

Sokka carefully thought back to the list of executions, picking out a few names from memory.
“Can you confirm the death of the following people? Second Lieutenant Chāo.”

“Executed, for treason,” she said promptly.

“Captain Minato?”

“Died whilst being taken into custody, fell down the stairs. Embarrassing for everyone. So he
was officially executed for treason.”

Bit more than embarrassing for the guy, seeing as he had died. “General Iroh?”

Her brow pinched. “The Dragon of the West? If he was captured, I have not heard of it.”

Sokka carefully let nothing show on his face. “Chancellor Hiroto?”

“Executed for embezzlement of funds intended for the army.” She sounded quite satisfied
with that one.

“Captain Wang?” He asked, this time just making the name up.

She shook her head. “I know nothing about this person.”

Sokka believed her answers were true to her knowledge. It gave another strong indication that
Zhao had been lying. Although it proved nothing.

“Okay,” he told her. “I’m going to gag you.” The woman nodded. She looked relieved,
allowing him to test her bindings and rip off a strip of her voluminous sleeves. As he did so,
an ink stained brush and a small avalanche of crumbs fell out. She looked vaguely shame
faced, as he checked and rechecked the temperature of her skin again. Still cool. Nothing like
Zuko’s, or Ro’s, or any of the other firebenders he had been unfortunate enough to have skin
to skin contact with.

He left her, sending off a prayer to whatever spirits might be listening, even the ones he
didn’t believe in, and slipped out of the room. He had to make it to Dumpling, high on the
mountain pass, and set the charges to cause a rockfall to block the path behind them. Sokka
was pretty sure he was running late, he just hoped that he didn’t live to regret not stabbing the
woman the second she had entered the office.

…………………………

Shen had been holding out hope Kazuma would come back and bring them food, maybe even
a splint for his fingers. But so far, he had been out of luck. He supposed the guy was probably
busy doing Fire Nation captain things, but it was still frustrating.

Instead, their bowl of unseasoned jook was delivered by a guard, who made a point of
spitting in it before he handed it over. Delightful.

Suki didn’t let that stop her, and she began eating as soon as the door to the cell block closed
behind him. “They always do that,” she told Shen between bites. “But we can’t afford to
waste the food. Don’t get enough as it is.” She continued chewing with a single-minded
determination.

Shen eyed his own bowl of spit flavoured rice porridge. He was hungry enough to eat it, but
the idea hurt his dignity. It made him so angry he wished he could toss it all over that fucking
guard’s face right before he ran him through. But Suki was right, no matter his pride or that it
turned his stomach, he had to eat it. To make sure he had the strength for whatever came next.

He had been resigned to the fact he was going to die here—probably quite unpleasantly, but
he couldn’t bring himself to give up on Suki. There had to be a way he could protect her, get
her out even. He was going to have to use everything he had to attempt to guilt trip Kazuma
—it was the only thing he could think of. The man was going to fuck off when Tsing returned
to torture Shen to death, conveniently missing the less than fun part, and thus sparing himself
any guilt or awkward feelings on the matter.

Fine, they were enemies in very similar situations within their respective armies. Although
Shen would like to think he would have the guts to stand up to his general if their positions
were reversed, he was a sensible enough person to recognise that was probably wishful
thinking. He probably would do the same as Kazuma, not the running away part, but the
keeping his head down part. He might even think the unpleasantness was a necessary evil if
he thought they had information on the war.

He could really do without all this uncomfortable self reflection, now he could do nothing
about it.

Instead, he started eating, thinking again about what he could do for Suki in the short time
they had left. Assuming Kazuma came back, and Shen hadn’t scared him away or pissed him
off too much with that last display. Suki casually admitting to killing those men had not
helped her case any, she wasn’t even bothering to refute it, so there had probably been plenty
of witnesses. And it wasn't like the Fire Nation was likely to actually accept a trial of any sort
where she could protest that she had been fighting for her life. He was going to have to hope
he could persuade Kazuma to keep her safe during her imprisonment, perhaps not send her on
to this other prison in the Fire Nation. Could he do it? Especially in the unspecified short time
he had? He was going to have to try.

To be honest, it was a bit weird having to come to the conclusion that Kazuma had enough
compassion for Shen to even consider the chance at success. He always thought the Fire
Nation had none, or at least, that it was beat or burnt out of them at a young age, creating a
more mailable, murderous soldier. That’s what he had been taught, it was what he had
thought he had seen. Turned out it was likely they were just men, like any other.

He didn’t know what to do with that thought.

The door creaked open again, slower than usual, and a short, slender figure slipped inside.

Suki put down her bowl. “No fucking way,” she said quietly.

Because yeah, that was the Blue Spirit, or at least, someone wearing the mask. Shen had seen
it many times, because Haoyu had at least three of them stashed in his gear.

Gear which Zuli had access to.

The Blue Spirit stalked towards them. He had his dual dao strapped to his back, and in his
hands he was carrying a sword and a long belt knife, no doubt taken from the soldier who’d
been guarding the entrance.

Shen recognised the way the kid moved.

Damn it. Kazuma had been right. Shen had already known it, but he had been holding out a
little hope that he had been wrong.

He pushed himself up and headed for the bars. When he reached them, he glared at the Blue
Spirit.

The Blue Spirit stared impassively back, mask a grinning rictus.

Shen sighed. “Zuli? That better not be you under there.”

“Hi,” the Blue Spirit said in his familiar, raspy voice.

“Hi?” Shen repeated. Seriously? Hi? “For fuck sake, why...never mind. Get us out.” They
would have words later. Lots and lots of words, possibly at some volume. But he was not
going to waste this opportunity to escape by getting into a shouting match with an idiot
teenager.

Suki had unwound herself from her blanket and approached the bars. She was staring. “Zuli?
This is Li?” she asked doubtfully.

Shen looked at her, confused. “Yes?” Who else was she expecting?

“Oh. You are not who I thought you were going to be,” she said, giving him a careful look up
and down. “Not unless you have had one serious growth spurt in the last few months.”

Zuli stared at her and Shen had the sudden vision of his face, blinking under the mask as he
attempted to work out what she was talking about. The thought made his heart clench with
fondness. He could even see from the boy’s body language the point when he apparently gave
up and ignored her.

“I’m going to have to smash it.” Zuli said.

“Smash it?” Shen asked. It had been less than a week and he had already forgotten what a
conversation with this kid could be like.

“Smash it. No key. I gave my lock picks to Sokka.”

Oh, he was talking about the cell door. Fine. Although how he was planning to smash his way
through thick steel was still unclear.

“The guards didn’t have the keys?”

“No, I looked.” He began carefully sorting through some items in the pouch he had strapped
to himself.

Shen wondered if Kazuma had taken the key, perhaps to prevent his men from entering the
cells without permission. Which both indicated that he had intended to keep to his promise,
and also that he didn’t trust his soldiers as much as he implied.
Zuli began stuffing something around the lock on the door to Shen’s cell. Shen watched with
a feeling between trepidation and curiosity. Suki leaned forward so she could see what he was
up to, although from the way she was looking at him, she was more interested in Zuli himself
than whatever he was doing. “So, you and Sokka were alone with Chief Hakoda?” she asked.

“No, there were lots of other people there.”

Suki made a frustrated noise. “No, I meant when you were captured, it was just the two of
you, no one else?”

They could go back and forth with this all day if Shen didn’t step in. “Appa?” he guessed.
That was the name she had mentioned earlier. He watched with concern as Zuli pulled out
something that looked upsettingly like a fuse for blasting jelly.

Zuli paused and cocked his head like a puppy. It looked ridiculous with the mask’s grinning
face. “Appa? Why would the cow be…never mind. Stand back.”

Cow?

“Cow?” Suki said, mirroring Shen’s incredulous internal question, if not his tone—there was
a note of indignation in her voice. “Cow?”

Zuli ignored her and pulled out some spark rocks. Shen rapidly backed up towards the rear of
the cell, reaching through the bars to tug Suki into doing the same. She moved reluctantly, her
head was tipped to the side, a deep furrow in her brow like she was looking at a puzzle and
trying to slot the pieces together.

“Um, Zuli?” Shen asked as the kid tried and failed to make the spark rocks light the fuse. Zuli
growled at him, either from frustration or just in answer. He was hitting them at the wrong
angle. Shen stepped forward again, risking life and limb to reach through the bars to take
them out of his gloved hands. The kid must be feeling the stress to forget something so
simple as how to use a basic tool. Shen changed the slant of the rocks and handed them back.
“I’m going to assume that’s an explosive of some sort? Can you please reassure me you know
what you’re doing?” he asked, retreating to the far corner of the cell again. “Have you used
the right amount?”

“Hmm,” Zuli said as the fuse caught. “Probably? Sokka only told me about the big ones I set.
So I just reduced the size so it fit?”

“Stand back, you idiot!” Shen barked at him as the distressingly short fuse burnt rapidly,
disappearing from his view behind the metal of the lock. Zuli jumped back as Shen raised his
own hands over his face in an effort to protect himself from the blast.

There was an explosion that rattled the metal but notably didn’t open the door. Shen was
relieved the kid had under set the charges, as the alternative could have been that they all
died. Even so, it had been loud, and he seriously hoped that the big heavy door to the cell
block had muffled the blast some.
Zuli came forward to inspect the door. The metal had warped, but it had failed to completely
shatter the solid locking mechanism. Unperturbed, Zuli backed up and delivered a kick that
hit with such impact it not only shattered what was left of the lock, it looked like it had nearly
taken the door off its fucking hinges. Spirits above.

“Wow,” Suki said. “That was one serious kick. Got some power in those legs, Zuli. Do mine
next.” She pointed a grubby finger at her cell door.

“Li, it’s Li, not Zuli,” Zuli growled. “Ignore Shen, he’s very disrespectful.”

Shen grinned. He had missed the cantankerous little shit. “I hope you have enough to get her
door too?” he asked, hopefully.

“Where are the others?” Zuli said instead of replying, but he began digging through his little
bag again for more explosives.

Shen stepped free of the cell, but kept his eyes on the door at the far end of the long corridor.
“Kazuma said they were being taken to East Lake,” he said. The adrenalin in his body was
buzzing through him, taking his pain away almost entirely, leaving only focus.

“Okay,” Zuli said. “We can worry about that after.” Then he cocked his head, listening,
angling his body so the right side was towards the door. Presumably because the burn to his
left ear limited his hearing. “Someone’s coming.”

He was right, and Shen grabbed for one of the discarded weapons Zuli had dropped so he
could set the charges. He was halfway across the floor before he realised he had the knife, not
the sword. He was dangerously exhausted, not thinking straight. There was a significant risk
that could get them all killed. He had to keep it together.

They could hear Kazuma’s voice calling for the guard, who was presumably dead and hidden.
Zuli darted for the door, and Shen followed. Still trapped behind her locked cell, he could see
Suki clutching at the bars. No matter what happened, he wasn’t going to leave her.

Kazuma called out again, this time it sounded angry. He clearly thought the guard was in the
cell block with them when he shouldn’t be. His agitation, possible concern for his prisoners
and his promise to keep them safe had apparently overrun any sense of caution. Or perhaps
he didn’t believe that they could ever escape the cells. To be honest, Shen was also kind of
shocked about the rescue part. And a bit concerned that Zuli seemed to be alone. Shen really,
really hoped he had not done this by himself. Or the other possibility, which would be that he
had only brought Sokka as his backup, because if he had, then Hakoda was going to kill Shen
dead if he managed to survive this.

Kazuma opened the door and stepped through, his bearing angry and confident. Then his eyes
went wide as Zuli’s sword slid across his throat. He froze and for a second, Shen expected to
see arterial spray from the wound, but there was only the tiniest trickle of blood. A scratch.
Zuli was holding him, but not killing. Kazuma stared at Shen as he approached the steps, but
he didn’t speak.
“Can you get him down?” He asked Zuli, who nudged his captive forward. It was a little
awkward, as the Fire Nation captain was considerably taller than the kid, but they managed
without tripping over each other or causing an accidental decapitation.

As they reached the last step, Kazuma’s face was set, completely calm, although his body
looked tense and ready. He wasn’t wearing his armour, clearly off duty, and he was carrying a
cloth-wrapped bundle in both hands. “Careful,” Shen said, “He can bend.”

The sword across his throat tightened ever so slightly, making Kazuma swallow. His eyes
didn’t leave Shen’s, though. Shen shifted his grip on the knife, transferring it to his weak left
hand, although it was practically useless. He reached out for the bundle first, shaking it open.
Splints and salve. The wrapping looked like a large cloth of some sort, a bed sheet perhaps.
He realised it was probably intended as something they could put up between the bars for
privacy.

“Thank you for these,” he said, and he meant it.

Kazuma looked angry and almost betrayed. Which was absurd, because did he honestly
expect Shen to sit here like a good boy and wait for his death? Just because Kazuma had
offered the bare minimum of kindnesses? Apparently so. Shen snorted and shook his head,
moving closer.

“Keep him still,” he said to Zuli. Putting his hands on a firebender was horribly risky, even
with the sword to his throat, he might just burn him and be prepared to die for it. Fire Nation
soldiers were unpredictable when taken prisoner. But if the guard didn’t have the key, that
meant Kazuma did. “Hands out to the side,” he ordered, and Kazuma did as he was asked.
Shen patted the man’s robes until he found the pockets and slid his right hand inside, holding
the knife against Kazuma’s unprotected stomach. Stupid man had been complacent coming
down here without armour.

“Got it.” He pulled out the key. Shen kept his eyes on Kazuma, just in case he tried to break
Zuli’s hold or attacked with fire, which meant walking himself backwards like an idiot, until
he reached Suki’s cell. She snatched the key from his fingers and reached through the bars to
twist it in the lock. The door clicking open was a beautiful sound. “Okay.”

Suki darted out and picked up the discarded sword. The calluses on her hands and the fact she
had apparently killed three soldiers indicated she could probably hold her own. And truth be
told, she was probably in better shape than Shen, who was aching and hurt from days of
abuse followed by days of riding with little medication and only minimal food.

“Let me,” Shen told Zuli, moving to take his place, holding the knife in his right hand tight
against Kazuma’s throat. Pulling him against his body and allowing Zuli to step back.
Kazuma’s skin was Firebender hot where it touched Shen’s, it made him want to recoil in fear
and disgust. It would be so easy to kill him. But unlike so many of his peers, Kazuma seemed
like a decent man, or as decent as it was possible to get in the Fire Nation, killing him might
mean some Ro or Zhao took his place. There were other reasons to stay his hand as well, of
course. As the most superior officer in Lao Fort while Tsing was gone, he would make a
pretty good hostage if they needed it.
It was obvious when Zuli stepped into Kazuma’s line of sight, as the man’s whole body
stiffened and Shen could feel his pulse tick up dramatically. He snorted. “Well, you did want
to meet the Blue Spirit in the flesh. Looks like he saved you the trip.”

“You’re a good liar, Captain Shen,” Kazuma said carefully, the edge of the knife pressing
against his throat as he spoke.

“Nah, I wasn’t really lying,” Shen admitted. “I had no idea until you started talking about
your teenage theory, and then I started to put it together.” He shifted slightly so he could glare
at the masked arsehole. “And you. You and me are going to have worlds when we are out of
here.”

“Whatever, lieutenant. This is taking too long, and we need to get out,” Zuli said waspishly.

Kazuma drew in a sharp breath, his body tensing further, and Shen tightened his hold. What
had caused that? It could have been shock or indignation at Zuli deliberately getting his rank
wrong. Shen was pretty sure calling a Fire Nation captain ‘lieutenant’ would be a serious
offence. But there was also the possibility he had recognised the kid’s voice. Had they
interacted in the past? If so, he was going to have to slit Kazuma’s throat, kindness or not.

“Li?” he asked, trying and probably failing to keep his own sudden stress out of his voice and
body.

Zuli turned towards him slightly, attentive.

“Do you know this man? Kazuma? He’s been hunting the Blue Spirit.”

Zuli looked at him carefully for a moment before he shook his head. “No. Let’s go.”

He seemed very certain, which while a relief, did not fully lessen Shen’s concern. Although
perhaps he had been correct, it was in response to the ‘lieutenant’ comment, or perhaps it had
been a reaction to a thought, rather than Zuli himself. It was possible he had just realised an
opportunity for escape, or had come up with a plan. Shen was pretty sure he could take him
in a fight if they took bending out of the equation…but with it? “Kazuma might be useful as a
hostage, but he could also be a problem,” he said, almost reluctantly, but it shouldn’t be his
choice alone. “He’s a bender, and none of us are.”

Zuli shrugged. “Knife’s quicker. You feel his skin heat, stab. We can bind his hands, slow him
down a little.” He started for the stairs again, clearly trying to keep to some schedule in his
head.

“Already on it,” Suki said. She ripped up part of the sheet Kazuma had brought. “He can burn
through it, of course,” she said, as she wrapped his hands thoroughly in the strips of cloth,
tightening it far too much to be comfortable. “But if he tries that, stab him.”

Shen shook his head. Stab him? “Do they make all children this blood thirsty these days?” He
asked, nudging Kazuma to walk forward towards the exit.

“Not a child,” Zuli said, sullenly from the top of the stairs, where he was listening at the door.
“Sure do,” Suki sounded vaguely smug.

A bell started ringing, wild and hectic. Damn it. What did that mean? Had a dead guard been
discovered? Or had Sokka, who Shen assumed was also here somewhere, been caught or
spotted?

“Fuck,” Zuli said. “Wait here, get ready.” He slipped out the door.

“Bloody brat,” Shen muttered, moving Kazuma awkwardly up the stairs, Suki following on
his heels.

The guard room was empty, the people who had been manning it clearly stashed elsewhere.
They paused, uncertain, until Zuli slid back into the room. “Can you use that?” he asked
Suki, without preamble, nodding to the sword she was still holding.

“Yup.”

“Can you use it well?”

She narrowed her eyes, hefting the long-bladed weapon with vague threat. “Yep.”

“Good.” He didn’t seem in any doubt that a young girl could hold her own against soldiers.
Shen was struggling with it a little himself, if he was honest. With Zuli too. He didn’t want
these kids to be fighting for him. Fighting at all. But he also knew from years and years of
combat that he was not in a great state at the moment. Lack of sleep, moderate untreated
injuries, days of strain and stress. He could fight. And he would, but it was possible these two
kids could do better than him—presuming they were as good as they thought they were.

Zuli’s masked face turned to him. “Let’s go then. There are soldiers hunting through the keep.
I don’t know what caused the alarm, but we may need to fight. Shen, keep the hostage out of
the way until it’s time to move. Wait for my signal,” Zuli said. He sounded like someone who
was used to giving commands and used to people listening to them. “I’m going to prepare our
escape route, you, girl-”

“Suki.”

“Suki, you guard them until I get back.”

Suki nodded. She looked calm, her hand steady where it held the sword, but there was a
predatory readiness to her stance that Shen recognised from so many of the soldiers he had
trained and served with.

Outside in the first courtyard, it was clear people were agitated, men were milling around,
they looked like they might be hunting for intruders. Zuli had disappeared, but Suki had
taken point, and ushered them into a dark doorway.

“Are you sure he knows what he’s doing, Shen?” Suki asked.

“Yeah. Or, at least I think so. He seems to think so.”

She did not look completely reassured.

“Are we just going to stand here?” Kazuma interrupted, his voice calm and hard, with no fear
in it, although Shen could feel how tense his muscles were from where they touched.

“Li said wait for the signal, so I’m waiting,” Shen retorted, indignant, and then felt a little
embarrassed that he was taking orders from a sixteen-year-old in a theatre mask. This feeling
wasn’t helped when Suki snorted, amused.

“What’s the signal?” Kazuma asked.

Shen didn’t know what it was, which made him feel even more annoyed. Before he could get
too aggravated about it, the question was quickly answered, when the dark sky lit up with
sudden flame and an explosion rocked the compound.

It was so loud and unexpected, Shen nearly slit Kazuma’s throat when he jumped in surprise.
Kazuma’s bound hands came up in an attempt to push the blade away from his unprotected
neck, but he didn’t struggle, and Shen shifted his grip slightly, lessening the pressure of the
knife and pulling the other man tighter against his body. It didn’t seem like he had cut deeply,
but he could feel blood on his knife hand.

“Sorry,” he said, before he could stop himself. He was too fucking over familiar with the guy.
A few conversations did not make a connection—but he couldn’t help seeing shades of
himself, not personality, but his position, the frustration, the shame. Apparently, that was
managing to muddle years of conditioned hate.

“I’m going to assume that’s the signal,” Suki said. Shen could see the whites of her eyes, they
were so wide. “A little warning would have been great.”

“Don’t think that’s his style,” Shen said, keeping his body still despite the intense reaction the
flames inspired in him. That might have been the ‘signal,’ but Zuli had failed to tell him what
it was a signal for.

“Hold position for now,” he instructed, and Suki nodded. At least she seemed slightly
inclined to listen to orders. They stayed hidden in the shadows and watched men running and
calling across the courtyard.

Suddenly, another explosion blasted through the keep, bigger and even more violent. It
illuminated the inner compound, the fleeing men and distressed beasts. A distant screaming
began as flames rose and danced and fire took hold somewhere close to the western gate.

“He blew up our storerooms,” Kazuma muttered. “The blasting jelly. I told Tsing time and
time again that we needed more security. That it needed to be kept elsewhere.” He sounded
upset.

“Too close to the gate?”

“Too close to the barracks.” Kazuma seemed to pull himself together a little. “Most of the
men are with the general. But those that were not, and were off duty…” He left it unsaid.
Even firebenders burnt if you made the flame hot enough.

Shen felt he could sense Kazuma’s distress and fear, and he couldn’t help but relate it to his
own experience, his own loss. He loved his men. Perhaps Kazuma felt the same, and now an
unknown number of them had been killed in their beds.

Shen wondered if Zuli knew or cared about the amount of people he had potentially killed.
He seemed to like the blasting jelly, and that came with a significant amount of collateral
damage. It tended to be extensive and as grim as any firebending attack. But, despite all the
evidence, the idea of Zuli as a heartless killer just didn’t fit.

“There were two explosions,” Shen said, thinking it through. “The second must have been the
storeroom.” Fierce fires were still burning, bright and almost merry. “The first must have
been further away. He gave them time.” He was certain of it, actually. It still might have
killed people, but perhaps not tired soldiers asleep in their beds.

Kazuma remained quiet for a long moment. “Thank you,” he said at eventually,
acknowledging that for the kindness it was. One good turn, and all that.

Their reprieve couldn’t last, though, and a wild-eyed, bareheaded soldier spotted them. He
cried out, pointing with his weapon, and attracting the attention of others before he charged.

Suki stepped forward. Her sword was a single-sided blade, thin with a slight curve. She held
it like it was familiar, and Shen hoped with all he had that was more than just bravado.
Because Shen couldn’t fight without releasing Kazuma. He had hoped they might slip by, or
use the hostage to avoid fighting. If that failed, he had thought he would be able to do the
sensible thing and hang back, but it was a very hard choice to make now he was actually
faced with it.

Suki caught the soldiers first blow on the thicker edge of her sword, twisting the blade and
darting back, using her small size to her advantage, never staying still long enough for him to
knock her off balance with an aggressive swing. Shen manoeuvred Kazuma until he was
visible, the man struggled in his grasp but Shen held him firmly. The soldier faltered for just a
second. Suki used the moment to her advantage, getting under his guard and thrusting upward
with her sword. It caught the soldier somewhere under the chin, he dropped as she spun to
engage the next two men who were running to their comrades aid.

Shen kept his tight hold on his prisoner. Kazuma had barely outwardly reacted to the soldiers’
death, but Shen could feel his temperature rise. It wasn’t enough he would have to take up
Zuli’s suggestion of stabbing him, but it was clear he was not unaffected by the killing of his
men.

Suki was holding her own, one more man down, wounded rather than dead this time, and she
was facing off against another, but more men were heading towards them. She was clearly
exceptionally talented, but she’d been in prison for a week with poor nutrition, shitty sleep
and healing injuries. She could not keep up this level for very long. The men seemed unsure
when they saw he was holding their captain, but they didn’t stop. If Kazuma was no use as a
hostage, he was merely a hinderance. Perhaps Shen could take the sword off the downed man
and help Suki. It was better than standing here in indecision as the girl grew more exhausted.
His hand tightened on the knife. A quick cut, get it over as painlessly as possible.

Before he could strike the blow, the Blue Spirit materialised from somewhere toward the east
gate, his black clad form darting between the men who had moved in on Suki. The swords
were gleaming as he leapt into the fight. He was using them together with considerable skill.
It was very difficult to focus on two things at once in that way, but in his hands it seemed
effortless. He caught a blade with his left sword, while fending off a spear with the right.
Then he dropped suddenly, using a leg to sweep at the sword wielder, knocking him off
balance, freeing up Zuli’s other weapon, which he used in tandem with the right blade to trap
the spear and wrench it out of his attacker’s hands. He didn’t pause, spinning back towards
the sword wielder, deflecting the return blow and striking at their unprotected stomach with
brutal efficiency.

He was good. Very, very good. Any remaining doubt Shen was holding that he was the real
Blue Spirit faded.

Suki had fallen back, regaining her strength. Shen was once again impressed with her—she
knew she wasn’t at full capacity and had allowed Zuli, who was fresher and currently fitter,
to take over, keeping herself safe and preparing to fight again when necessary. It showed her
skill at working with a unit. Lots of young, green soldiers would just keep engaging, hoping
for glory and instead get their dumb selves killed.

Zuli was still fighting in a way that Shen could admit was also extremely impressive. It
wasn’t just his skill with his swords; it was a talent that was intuitive, cerebral and physical.

One of his opponents got in under Zuli’s guard, making Shen’s whole body tense in fear. The
man disarmed Zuli’s right blade, but the boy didn’t hesitate, he lashed out at the second
soldier, taking him down with a slash to the face, then he launched himself up and rolled
across the falling man’s shoulders as he dropped, hitting the ground and spinning low,
hooking a foot into the downed soldiers helmet and sending it flying into the other man’s
face. While the soldier wasted a precious second to strike it away from him, Zuli rolled for
his sword, catching the man’s second downward stroke on crossed blades.

A dangerous move, one that had the potential to give far too much control to the opponent.
Zuli ducked low again, keeping his left blade up, strong and steady, still locked with his
adversary, and releasing the right blade below it, allowing him to sweep down, slicing into
the soldier's knee and sending him tumbling. Instead of a killing blow, Zuli used the flat,
blunt end of his sword to strike the man on the head, knocking him out.

Shen felt Kazuma gasp as they watched the fight unfold. He had been so distracted staring at
Zuli and Suki he had forgotten his plan completely. The knife was still held tight against
Kazuma’s throat, but barely drawing blood.

As they watched, Suki stepped back into the fight, giving Zuli a moment to back off. He
didn’t, of course, because unlike Suki, he was used to fighting alone. He didn’t understand
the out being offered to him, and instead continued to engage. He was not showing much
signs of fatigue, but he must surely be feeling it.
Kazuma shifted in his hold, looking at Shen out the corner of his eye. They were too close for
him to really see much of Kazuma’s face, just his dark lashes on his cheek as he blinked.
“He’s a very talented swordsman. He’s been trained by a master,” Kazuma said eventually,
careful of the knife touching his skin.

“And how would you know that?” Shen could see he was talented, and that actually didn’t
come as a surprise. Zuli was a very intense kid, it was not a shock he would excel in
something he was interested in. But trained by a master? Who? How would Kazuma
recognise that? “How, Kazuma?” he asked when the man didn’t answer him.

Kazuma stubbornly said nothing.

But he knew something. Perhaps he had recognised his fighting style. It would be hit or miss,
whether that was a risk for the kid. He was recognisable because of the burn on his face, but
Panuk had said it was old, two or three years at least, and Zuli had been the Blue Spirit for at
least most of that time. Anyone that knew him before might not know what he looked like
now. Whatever Kazuma knew might not matter.

But then again, it might.

His thoughts spinning, he went back to fretting over the boy. How long ago had he been
trained? The Blue Spirit had always been associated with his swords. It had to have been
earlier than that. Which would have made him a literal child, probably preteen when he
started. Was that because it was a hobby? Or out of necessity to defend himself and his
mother? Or was it something more sinister? Shen remembered that night when they had
discussed the Blue Spirit, Haoyu’s enthusiasm and Zuli’s sulks, bound by Sokka’s laughter.
Zuli had said ‘My sister is fourteen, and she could kill every man here without breaking a
sweat.’ Had he meant that literally? Had his sister also been trained by this ‘sword master’?
Trained to kill? The thought made him angry.

Shen despised the idea of child soldiers, even though he had practically been one himself,
even though Haoyu was less than a year past his majority, even though, out of desperation,
the Earth Kingdom employed them even more often than the Fire Nation. He hated it.

What had set Zuli on this path? And what had happened to the sister? He had spoken of her
as though she were alive. Was she free or was she still being held, or used? Surely, if that was
the case, Zuli’s goal must be to free her.

He watched, distracted, as the two kids took down another man. Which side had it been that
had trained him? That was another very uncomfortable question. As far as Shen knew, the
Blue Spirit’s targets were almost always Fire Nation. Although there were some reports of
Earth Kingdom places being raided, it was only old buildings and library’s and not usually
military. Easy to dismiss.

What was he looking for? In all the excitement, Shen had almost forgotten about that part.
Hopefully, he would have a chance to ask him.

“Are you seriously telling me you didn’t realise this boy was the Blue Spirit?” Kazuma
growled at him, breaking him from his thoughts. “That he could fight like this?”
Shen took a moment to think about that. The battle, such as it was, was over. Most of the
soldiers had headed for the western gate, where the flames were still dancing, and occasional
secondary explosions sounded.

Those soldiers that had confronted them lay scattered across the floor, some still, some
groaning, wounded.

“To be honest, he was half dead when I found him,” Shen said. “Apart from one meltdown,
where I admit, he almost took me down, I hadn’t seen him fight.” But he had seen the
potential in the way he moved, his reflexes, the quick response to threat when he snapped
those chopsticks and stabbed Hakoda. He just hadn’t been expecting this.

The Blue Spirit’s grinning mask was splattered with blood. It looked black against the blue
paint and a dull rust red against the white teeth. “We need to go,” Zuli said.

They crept forward, through another door and up stone stairs designed for single file. A
protective measure put in place in case the keep was breached, no doubt. Shen’s shoulders
brushed the wall. It felt close, claustrophobic and he had very little control of his prisoner as
they carefully manoeuvred upwards. Kazuma could easily have escaped from his hold, but
stuck in the stairway between two murderous, sword wielding teenagers and one big guy with
a knife, there was nowhere for him to go.

Suki was ready for them as they exited the stairs onto the battlements, her sword sliding
under Kazuma’s chin and drawing yet another line of blood across the man’s abused neck.
His robe was smeared and stained with it, his throat splattered in a grisly mess. His back was
still straight, though, and his eyes angry.

“Suki, Shen. You go down the rope.” Zuli pointed to the edge of the battlements.

Shen grimaced. Abseiling down that was going to be tricky with his left hand only just
functioning, but he was still going to do it. Escape had been something he had not been
expecting at all, no way he was going to let them catch him now. “What about Kazuma?” he
asked.

“Leave him with me.”

Either the kid was planning to kill him, or he was going to use him as a hostage again, which
had not really worked last time. “You’re not coming?”

“Yes, I will. I just need to check…I have to be sure Sokka got out. That the alarm wasn’t
because he was captured.”

Shen could argue with him, but he suspected from long exposure to Zuli’s personality that it
would be a waste of time, and they couldn’t really afford that.

“Do you need help?” Suki asked Zuli directly. “I know Sokka, if he’s been taken, then…”

“If he’s captured, we will rescue him.” Zuli sounded completely certain. “If I can’t get him
out, then this is reconnaissance. It’s just as likely that he escaped, and the alarm was sounded
 because the break-in was discovered. We can’t be sure.” He tugged Suki aside, leaning the
mask close to her face so she could hear him as he spoke in a low tone. From where he was
standing, Shen and, more importantly, Kazuma could not hear what was being said.
Presumably he was instructing her where to meet.

Then he stalked forward to take possession of Kazuma. Shen let him, stepping back. He
didn’t want to run and leave the kid here, especially not after having to sit out that short but
brutal fight earlier. It went against everything in him but his common sense. Zuli alone was
more likely to get in and out without detection. He had raided this place multiple times, knew
his way through it. Shen would slow him down.

But he didn’t want to let him go.

Suki clearly didn’t either, worried about Sokka. Shen was going to have to get the whole
story of their friendship out of her later - he was certain it was going to be entertaining.

Fuck, he was going to have to trust Zuli knew what he was doing. He was going to have to let
him go. The thought burned and squirmed in his stomach. “Okay, take care of yourself, kid,”
he managed.

“I will.”

Shen turned to Kazuma. “Thank you for keeping your word, Captain. And for the small
kindnesses you offered.” He bowed, short and sharp, acknowledgement between equals. He
wasn’t going to ask Zuli to spare Kazuma, nor to kill him. His choices would no doubt
depend on what happened after Shen was over the wall.

Kazuma said nothing, his face completely composed.

“Right, Suki,” Shen said. “Let’s go.”

Chapter End Notes

Next chapter: Suki comes face to face with her rescuer, Sokka has (many) concerns,
Shen would like a nap, Kazuma tries to fit his Blue Spirit puzzle pieces together and
chooses a course of action and Katara gets some bad news.
 Chapter 17
Chapter Summary

“Why is he so allergic to just sticking with a plan!”

Chapter Notes

As with the last one, the chapter ended up getting too long, so for the sake of my beta
readers sanity (and my own) I chopped it in half again. So I’m afraid you will have to
wait on finding out Katara’s part. Sorry about that! The second part is about 80%
finished, so will also be up in a week or two.

Warnings: No additional warnings, shocking! (will make up for it next chapter, don’t
worry)

Actually, Yes one additional warning >.< Some internalised homophobia

Many thanks to my beta burkesl17, who has managed to wrangle my dyslexic nonsense.
All mistakes are my own.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Getting down the rope with one hand had not been fun. Shen had done his best, but had still
managed to fall the last several feet, getting himself some pretty impressive rope burns in the
process.

“Come on,” Suki said, grabbing his arm to help him up. These past few days were going to
be very embarrassing to remember if he survived them, as they mostly seemed to consist of
being rescued by children over and over again. And he wasn’t sure it was going to be the last
time either, as his body felt like it might be on the edge of crapping out on him completely.

He pushed himself up with Suki’s help, and they started running, or what might generously
be called a vigorous stagger in his case.

“Your Zuli gave me directions,” Suki said as they made it further away from the keep,
towards the tree line. The light from the fires was fading with distance and it became
increasingly hard to see. This forced them to slow their pace, which was a relief to Shen, at
least, who was feeling more than a little wobbly.
“Yeah, but do you know where we’re going, Suki?” he asked, as he picked his way carefully
up the rocky pass. Zuli’s ‘directions’ could either be perfect, or a disaster.

“I think so. The instructions were vague, but I feel like we’re heading in the right direction.”
Suki at least didn’t seem to be flagging, despite the battle she had just fought. Perhaps the
adrenaline of fighting and freedom was keeping her going. It was certainly all that seemed to
be keeping Shen on his feet.

The path became narrower, steeper, heading upwards into the mountain pass. They were still
low down, but it made them slow further, any faster than a careful walk could end in a tumble
that resulted in broken bones. There was no sound of pursuit, and the way the path curled
against the slow rising slope of the mountain allowed them to see the fortress at the points
where it wasn’t obstructed by trees. Shen couldn’t see any soldiers, but he wasn’t sure if that
should be a relief or a concern. He didn’t think he and Suki would be worth much to the Fire
Nation, recapturing them would only be a matter of pride. So, they might not bother chasing
them at all if they had captured Zuli.

“Do you think Sokka’s okay? Do you think he got out?” Suki asked, breaking him from his
thoughts.

“I hope so. If he didn’t, then I suspect Zuli will think of something.” Shen wished he could
add more certainty to his voice. He was worried about both the boys. If Sokka had been
captured, he was seriously concerned Zuli would launch a rescue by himself. While he was
clearly more than capable, the timing was not ideal. After a night of fighting and running,
when he was tired and wound tight with adrenaline and not thinking straight, he was far more
likely to make a fatal mistake. But there was not much Shen could do about it right now, it
kept his anxiety at a high spike, like thorns in his stomach. “They’re capable boys. Smart too,
most of the time,” he offered.

“Yeah, it’s the rest of the time I’m worried about.” He could see her teeth flash in the dim
light as she turned to him. “When we met, Sokka was…not great at fighting hand to hand.
But he picked it up fast.”

Shen snorted. “He and Zuli have been doing sword training every day. He’s a quick study,
impressively so. But he’s also a little on the clumsy side. I’ve seen him fall over his own feet,
trip over Zuli three times in an hour, drop a whole bowl of dirty wash water on both of them
and walk into the side of a tent. So every day that he doesn’t stab himself is a marvel as far as
I’m concerned.”

She grinned, and Shen smiled back. Fuck, he hoped they were both okay.

“Why was Sokka in a dress?” he asked, to distract himself from the steady buzz of pain in his
body. His brain was getting a little fuzzy, and he wondered if he was sick, perhaps a mild
infection from wounds that hadn’t been tended properly. The burns on his chest were aching
and throbbing even through the exertion and adrenaline. As if Ro hadn’t made enough of a
mess, an infection would probably leave even worse scarring. If it didn’t kill him.

Suki snickered. “How is that the thing that seems to have spread around and stuck in people’s
minds? Not the other stuff?” She snorted again and shook her head. “I said I would teach him
to fight, but as he had been sexist and rude, I told him he had to wear the full Kyoshi Warrior
get up; face paint, makeup, dress and all. Just to spite him and his shitty attitude.” She
shrugged, a slight movement of her shoulders in the dark. “He was…a very good sport about
it, actually. I had hoped we would spend a little more time in training, that I could have taught
him more, but the Fire Nation arrived.” Her voice changed from wistful to angry. “They burnt
most of my village to the ground. It was a miracle no one was killed.”

“Bastards,” Shen offered, with feeling. He was going to ask why they had attacked. It wasn’t
close to the front lines or the colonies. But instead, he stopped in his tracks. “Did you hear
that?” he asked.

Suki was poised on the balls of her feet, graceful like a dancer and ready to use the sword in
her hand with as much deadly efficiency as any soldier in Shen’s unit. She nodded.

The noise came again: a warbling clicking. Ostrich horse.

And then Dumpling’s big, stupid head poked out onto the path, her body still concealed by
shrubbery. She glared at him and hissed.

Suki made an alarmed squeaking sound, staggering back in surprise and bumping into Shen,
who caught her. She seemed unreasonably tiny this close up. He couldn’t believe she had
taken down soldiers the way she had. He couldn’t believe he had stood there and let her. That
was a delayed anxiety attack for another time, though. “Sokka?” he called, his stomach
burning with equal parts hope and dread.

“Shen?”

The feeling of relief that ran through him as Sokka’s head joined Dumpling’s, sticking out
over the path, almost took his legs out from under him. One boy safe, one more to go.

“Shen!” Sokka grinned wide and excited as he darted out, but his face fell as he bounded
towards them. “Where are the others? Li?”

“My men were taken elsewhere,” Shen said. He realised he might have to prevent Sokka
from trying to go back to Lao Fort, he was going to have to stop himself. “Zuli went back into
the keep. He wanted to check you made it out. He had a hostage, I think he’ll be okay.” He
didn’t think he had been very reassuring, as Sokka’s face took on a lightly panicked
expression. “If not, I guess we will go back and rescue him.” It was going to become an
absurd circle of rescues, if that was the case.

“Why would he do that? Why is he always like this—there was a plan!” Sokka snarled,
working himself up. “Why is he so allergic to just sticking with a plan!” He waved his arms
angrily.

“Alarms were going off,” Shen told him. “I think he just wanted to double check. He seemed
pretty in control of the situation.”

“Damn it. I captured some woman, but I didn’t want to kill her. She must have escaped and
raised the alarm. Fuck!” He rubbed an agitated hand down his face. “What do we do? Go
back?”

Shen wished, but it was a terrible idea. “Sokka, we need to be sensible,” he said, reluctantly.
“Let’s give Zuli enough time to do what he needs and rejoin us. He appears to be very
experienced breaking in and out of this particular fortress. It seems to have been a hobby in
his misspent youth. Earlier youth.” Stupid boy. It wasn’t that Shen lacked gratitude, the fact
they had inexplicably come for him was almost too overwhelming to process, but the worry
was going to make him grey before his time. If he lived that long, because Hakoda was going
to murder him.

“He really hates General Tsing,” Sokka said, a little forlorn. “And has made it a point to rob
him blind at every possible opportunity, as far as I can tell.” He gazed back out across the
land towards the faint glow of burning fires. “And steal his intel and cause as much chaos as
one masked guy can cause, which is apparently quite a lot.” Sokka’s lip had tuned up in a
small, fond smile as he spoke. “Okay, I guess we stick to the plan, even if that idiot can’t to
literally save his life.”

“Hi, Sokka,” Suki said, apparently fed up waiting to be noticed. Shen couldn’t see her face,
but he could hear the smile in her voice.

Sokka looked at her in apparent bemusement. He didn’t seem to recognise her, which seemed
to be an issue with the three of them thus far. Very confusing.

“I know bruises aren’t as attractive as face-paint and fans, but do I really look that different?”
She asked.

“Fans? Suki?” Sokka’s eyes went wide with shock and then his face split into a huge grin.

“Hey.”

“Suki!” He moved forward, grabbing her into a wild, tight hug. “How are you even here?
What happened? Is your village okay?”

She chuckled. “Yeah, they’re fine. Myself and some of my girls left to try and help the war
effort. Sitting out didn’t seem right, after what happened.”

Shen gave them a little nudge. “Talk as we walk.” The reunion was very sweet, but this was
not a good place to stop. “What’s this plan, Sokka? You sounded like you had one.”

“Yeah, yeah, I have one. A little further up it gets really narrow. We set some explosives so
we can block the path. But if Li is behind us, I don’t know if we should.”

“I suspect he will get around any obstruction without too much difficulty.” Shen said.
Assuming he was following and assuming he had not been wounded. Shen wondered if he
should offer to stay on the other side of the rockfall they intended to cause. Just in case. But
the harsh reality was, he would probably struggle to get across it in his current state, and if
Zuli was okay, Shen would just end up slowing him down.
They began walking, keeping the pace slow as the path narrowed. Dumpling reached around
to give Suki an experimental headbutt, nearly knocking her off her feet and down the ravine,
and then stretched further to give Shen a less experimental bite.

“Rude!” Sokka told her, shaking a finger. “Spirits above, but you and Li were meant for each
other.” Dumpling gave him a little hiss but seemed pleased with herself and happy enough to
walk beside him. Perhaps she had grown used to his presence over their travels. Shen rubbed
his arm where her beak had pinched flesh, suddenly overcome with a wave of loss. He
missed his own mount. He missed his men.

He watched a little blearily as Sokka began talking them through setting the explosives. Suki
was leaning over with intense interest, but Shen could feel his adrenaline start to crash. It was
hard to focus, and instead he leaned against the rockface and watched the path behind them,
as Sokka arranged things to his satisfaction.

“Okay let’s go,” Sokka said. He sounded about as enthusiastic about the prospect as Shen
felt. Neither of them wanted to leave Zuli behind, but they were set on their course.

He steeled himself and stood straight. “Lead on then.”

The detonation caused a sound that echoed and bounced off the rock walls, almost deafening
in the otherwise still air. Birds exploded from the trees, crying out with alarm, and even
Dumpling looked a little put out by it.

It was not very subtle, but Shen supposed subtle didn’t really matter—there was only one
path up they could have taken anyway. At least knowing they could blow half the mountain
down on any pursuers might give the Fire Nation pause.

They walked higher and the cold increased. Shen could feel his energy slipping away and it
was getting harder to lift his feet all the way off the ground, causing him to stumble.

When he righted himself with a heartfelt curse, Sokka was looking at him with poorly
concealed concern.

“I want to stop,” Sokka said, after a moment. “Give Li a chance to catch up.”

Shen knew that while that was part of it, it wasn’t the only reason. He was holding them
back, but he also wasn’t alone in flagging a bit. Suki had slowed considerably, and to be
honest, she could probably do with a rest as well as him. “Okay,” he agreed.

Suki just nodded tiredly, backing up to the rockface and sliding down to sit against it. Sokka
joined her, staying in a squat, ready to move if he needed to. “Are you okay?” he asked,
offering Suki a water skin.

“Yeah,” she took the skin and drank, passing it to Shen when she was done. “It’s just been a
long, hard week. I could use a holiday. Somewhere nice. No Fire Nation.”
“Ha, yeah, you and me both.” Sokka grinned, tired and worried.

Shen gave up his attempts to remain standing and slid down the rock with a bit of a bump. He
tried to pretend his legs hadn’t given out by tipping his head back to drink. The water was
cool and fresh, he hadn’t even realised how thirsty he was.

“Are you alright, Shen?” Suki asked.

“Yeah, I’m good. Just need a few minutes. Been a bit of a week for me, too.” He shut his eyes
for a moment. He just needed to take a little time to rest, but his mind wouldn’t let him, it
kept oscillating between worry for Zuli and worry for his men. He was going to have to ask
about the survivors of the attack on the village, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to do it.
He didn’t think he could cope with the answer right now.

“I’m sure…Li will catch up with us,” Suki told Sokka, as he anxiously stared off down the
path again. “He seemed very competent.”

Sokka sighed.“He is. I mean, he’s a human disaster, but he is ridiculously good at the things
he’s good at. And it turns out hitting people with swords, playing with blasting jelly and
breaking and entering can be added to that list, along with tenacity and annoying people into
homicidal rages.”

Suki’s lip quirked up. “So it sounds like he should be fine.”

“Yeah,” Sokka didn’t sound certain. “He doesn’t always have what you would call good luck.
Or good judgement, come to think of it.” He shuffled round until he could see Shen properly.
“Actually, speaking of that. When I was doing my own bit of burglary, which I excelled at, by
the way, because all I had to go on was theoretical lock picking lessons and a map drawn in
the dirt.”

“As modest as ever I see,” Suki grinned at him.

He grinned back. Then his expression became more serious. “As I was saying. When I broke
into Tsing’s office, I found these schematics.” He dug through his pouch and handed some
drawings to Shen. Suki leaned over with interest, stabbing a sharp little elbow into his thigh
as she got into his space.

“What am I looking at here?” Shen asked. It didn’t resemble anything familiar.

“It’s some sort of machine with a rotating head. I think it’s intended to break through the wall
at Ba Sing Se,” Sokka said, his words sending a chill up Shen’s spine.

He could feel the bottom drop out of his stomach. Spirits above, if they could use this, the
defences would be fucked. All the people behind those walls… “Fuck,” he said. The word
didn’t quite do his feelings justice. “Fuck.”

“Yeah. That was my thought,” Sokka agreed, face grim. “We need to warn my father, and we
need to warn the city. The Earth King or whatever.”
“What’s this got to do with Li’s judgement, or lack thereof?” Suki asked. It wasn’t the
question that had jumped into Shen’s mind, but now she had asked, he was curious.

Sokka grimaced. “I am not going to tell him about it just yet,” he admitted. “I will, don’t get
me wrong, but he is a bit…high strung at the moment, and I don’t want to put him under any
additional stress.”

“Okay,” Shen said, a little dubious. He was missing something here, and Sokka was clearly
being evasive. Suki was looking at her friend with a calm, but searching, expression on her
face. She also seemed to sense there was more to that than he was letting on.

“So!” Sokka said, voice bright and full of false confidence. “I figure Shen should go and
warn my father and Huang. And Li and I will head to Ba Sing Se.”

“Without telling him why?” Shen asked.

Sokka shrugged. “He has an uncle who may have headed to the city as a refugee, he’s keen to
find him. So while we’re there, I’ll warn the Earth King.”

“You’re just going to rock up to the palace and ask to see him?” Suki asked, not
unreasonably.

“Well, if they don’t let me in, we could always use the tried and tested Li method.”

“Breaking and entering?”

“Yup.”

“I suspect getting into a royal palace is a little harder than a mostly empty keep,” Suki
pointed out.

Sokka waved a hand dismissively. “Li broke into an impenetrable ice fortress by himself,
because he saw some seals do it, and because he is insane. I’m pretty sure breaking into the
royal palace or whatever will be a breeze.”

Shen blinked. Was he talking about the North Pole? Why had he broken in by himself? Sokka
had been very vague when discussing their travels before capture, and aside from that first
interrogation, Zuli had said practically nothing. Shen felt like he was on the edge of sorting
through the correct questions to ask, when he realised he was shivering so hard his teeth were
chattering and he couldn’t quite get the questions out of his mouth.

“You okay?” Sokka asked, zeroing in on him with concern all over his face.

“Yeah. Just cold. Staying still after all the action, adrenaline. You know.”

Sokka chewed his lip for a moment, before giving Suki a quick look over as well. “We don’t
have any extra clothes that would fit you, Shen.” He sprang to his feet and headed for the
saddlebags, still strapped to the angry-looking hen. Instead of digging through them, he
pulled their one blanket free. “You could put this around yourself? Kind of like a cape? It
might keep some of you warmer.” Then he went for the bags and drew out a dark-coloured
tunic with long sleeves, which he handed to Suki.

Shen was more than glad of the extra warmth. It didn’t quite stop the shivering, but it helped.
“Does your father know you’re here?” he asked, although he could guess the answer. Had
Hakoda helped them leave the camp? Or had they just slipped out?

“Um,” Sokka said, looking shifty and answering the question with his face.

Shen rubbed at his forehead tiredly, one hand still clutching the blanket around himself. Yep,
Hakoda was going to kill him. Of course there was nothing he could have done to stop the
kids, what with being in jail, but he figured a father’s wrath might overlook that.

Before he could express any further concern, Zuli suddenly materialised out of the shadows
like an apparition, making the three of them jump. Shen was glad that he had only sworn with
his surprise, and not shrieked like the two kids, who were clutching each other in a way that
would have been very unhelpful if Zuli had in fact been a Fire Nation soldier.

Perhaps even a warrior as skilled as Suki was actually still just a teenager. The thought
almost made him smile, would have done, if his heart wasn’t currently in his mouth with
fright. “Damn it, Zuli!” he snapped when he could speak again.

“Li!” Sokka yelled, leaping up with excitement and relief. He threw himself into his friend’s
arms enthusiastically, smacking his face on the mask Zuli was still wearing and cussing
loudly. He didn’t stop the hug, though, or the excited chatter.

Zuli returned the embrace and then stood there, apparently stoic and silent. But probably
actually just trying to assess how he should behave. Having apparently come to a decision, he
pushed back from Sokka and turned to Shen. The mask was strange and leering in the dim
light.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Shen gave him a tired smile. “Yeah. Felt better, but some sleep will help.” He heaved himself
up and lay a hand on the boy’s shoulder. The muscles were twitching and jumping under his
palm. He desperately wanted to pull him in for a hug, but he thought the kid was probably too
wound up for any further contact, he was practically vibrating with adrenaline still. Shen was
half tempted to tell him to run through some kata’s to calm him down. But he resisted, they
might need all that coiled energy, seeing as the rest of them were fading fast.

“We should press on a bit,” Zuli said.

Sokka groaned loudly. “Don’t do this.”

“What?”

“The annoying thing you do, where you try to make us keep going until we drop dead.”

“You want to stop here in the middle of the path?”

“Boys,” Shen interrupted before they could start squabbling. “Zuli is right, this isn’t a good
spot to camp.” He held up a hand to stop any comments. “But Sokka is also right, we need to
rest. Let’s move on and find somewhere defensible, okay?”

Both boys nodded sullenly. Suki got to her feet and stretched. “Let’s go then.”

“Were they tracking us?” Shen asked.

“No,” Zuli said, setting off up the path without a backward glance, leaving Sokka to gather
up a disgruntled Dumpling.

The lack of pursuit was a surprise. Shen wasn’t sure if it was a welcome one or not. Kazuma
had been so close to his prize, why had he chosen not to follow them? Unless of course, Zuli
had killed him. He certainly stank of blood up close, but that could have just been from the
fight. It still didn’t really answer the question though, even if Kazuma had been killed,
wouldn’t the next person in charge chase them? Get revenge for their keep and their captain?
Glory for capturing the Blue Spirit?

Or was the lack of a chase actually an indication Kazuma had survived the night? The keep
had been significantly on fire. He seemed like the sort of man to prioritise his troops’
immediate needs above his own desire to capture the Blue Spirit. They would have to tend
the wounded, shore up defences. Shen supposed it was pointless to dwell on it. He would no
doubt find out from Zuli what had happened, and the lack of soldiers breathing down their
necks was a blessing he did not want to turn his nose up at.

They settled for a campsite under the trees, away from the path, but overlooking the ravine
and Lao River Fort. It gleamed in the distance, bathed in firelight. The temperature was
bitterly cold this high up, especially when the wind whipped against the mountain. But the
position provided a good line of sight in case Kazuma, or whoever was in charge, changed
their minds and began hunting them.

Sokka and Suki both flopped to the ground in a tangle of limbs and complaints, while Zuli
stood in the middle of the camp and looked awkward. Shen sighed, also lowering himself
down, trying not to wince and tugging the blanket a little tighter against the chill.

“Zuli. Get changed, you stink like a slaughterhouse,” he said, in an effort to poke him into
moving. The boy startled, and then lifted his arms a little to look down at himself, like he
could actually see the blood on his dark clothes. It was an amusing gesture, with the mask
still grinning. Shen could feel a tight, warm feeling in his chest. He hadn’t really had time to
process the fact the boys had come to rescue him. He couldn’t believe they had done
something so stupid. And he couldn’t quite get a handle on how touched he was by it. He felt
like if he thought about it too much, it might undo him, and he really couldn’t afford that
right now.

Satisfied with his self inspection, Zuli grunted and lifted a hand to his mask.
“Wait, stop!” Sokka squeaked suddenly. His voice had gone hilariously high, and he had one
hand out, reaching for his friend. His eyes were wide and panicked.

Zuli, still hyper alert, froze.

Right, there was some weird shit going on with this—in all the running and fighting and
drama it had been pushed to the back of Shen’s mind. Suki had been expecting ‘Li’ to be
someone else, someone they both knew? The name Appa was mentioned, but then they were
then referred to as a cow? Or was the cow incidental to the person? It was really hard to tell
with Zuli, as his brain seemed to make random connections sometimes, or maybe it was no
different to the random connections other people made, he just voiced them.

Also of note, Zuli had seemed not to have recognised Suki—but they had both clearly been
present for the dress wearing. Unless Sokka had been making a habit of it? Which was also
possible and would make more sense, except Shen was pretty sure that it had been a single
event.

The three of them seemed frozen in place. Zuli with a hand on his mask, Sokka with his eyes
wide and panicked and Suki with hers narrow and oddly suspicious.

“Um,” Sokka said. “So, you two have actually met before, and I don’t want anyone getting
too, er...excited with the reunion.” His face turned pleading, his eyes huge.

“Uh huh,” Suki said. “I was starting to wonder if that was the case.” She got to her feet and
stalked towards Zuli. There was a twist to her mouth and her eyes were hard, but then she
paused and sighed. She reached up and lifted the mask, tipping it away from his face and
pulling it free from his head.

He let her, his body tense but still.

“Hi, Zuli,” she said, the heavy emphasis on the first syllable implying she very much knew
his real name, which Shen had long suspected started with a Zu sound. That he had
apparently mixed up his real and fake name when telling them who he was, still made
something all warm and amused swell in Shen’s chest. What a ridiculous kid.

“Hi.” Zuli stared at her, and she stared back, face neutral. Sokka still looked like he was
moments from a panicked meltdown.

It was clear to Shen that they had in fact not met in good circumstances. He just wasn’t sure
exactly what those circumstances had been, and what was causing all the tension.

“I still don’t know who you are,” Zuli muttered, choosing the very best thing to say, as
always.

To the right of them, Sokka was looking increasingly stressed, his mouth hanging slightly
open and his eyes like dinner plates. He was an entertainingly expressive kid, but despite his
apparent horror, Shen didn’t think any of them were actually in danger from the others, with
the most likely outcome being a shouting match. So he felt safe remaining seated and
watching with a certain amount of amusement.
“Suki,” Suki said. “From Kyoshi Island, leader of the Kyoshi Warriors. We met when my
village burnt to the ground.”

Could that have been it? Shen wasn’t sure of the timeline of events, had the Fire Nation
already been chasing Zuli at that point? Had he led them to her village? If so, Shen could
understand her anger, but then again, surely they would have understood given the
circumstances? Even with such disastrous results.

“Oh, right,” Zuli said. “Sokka kissed you.”

Sokka slapped a hand to his face either in embarrassment or despair, and Shen held back a
smile at the incredulous expression on Suki’s face, like she couldn’t quite believe he would
remember that and not what she looked like or the part where her home burned down.

“Right!” Sokka said, loudly. “Right, yeah, so that was a thing, and so were some other things.
And so Suki and I are going to have a little chat real quick to catch up and stuff. Li, go groom
Dumpling, she’s dirty. I tried to do it while we were waiting, but she kept biting me.”

“Dumpling?” Suki asked, bemused and still apparently deciding if she should be fighting Zuli
or perhaps at least yelling at him.

“Don’t ask,” Sokka grabbed her sleeve and tugged her towards the edge of their campsite.

As she was led away, she turned to make a last threatening gesture towards Zuli, implying
their discussion wasn’t over yet.

Zuli was still blank faced and still standing in the same spot, processing slowly, perhaps.
Possibly devastated that Sokka’s girlfriend? Ex-girlfriend? Had inconveniently turned up. It
was hard to tell. Shen was pretty sure they would cope with whatever the fallout from that
was. It might give them a chance for a little normal teenage drama, something that didn’t
involve killing and running and fire. “Finish getting changed,” Shen prompted him, when it
looked like he was just going to stand there. Zuli shook himself, like he was just returning to
reality, and then he headed for the ostrich horse with a determined stride.

Dumpling made some low noises at him as he riffled through the saddlebags, and she plucked
at his blood-soaked clothes in apparent distress. She was a war bird, trained from a young
age. The smell of fire and blood didn’t bother her much—but she seemed concerned for the
kid, which was really rather sweet.

Zuli petted her for a few moments, soothing himself as much as settling her. Then he started
stripping off his clothes, rubbing himself down roughly with the less ichor splattered parts of
his pants. It was not overly successful and seemed to mostly be smearing the blood around
his body. The rust red stood out on his pale skin, but it didn’t look like any was actually from
his own injuries.

“Are you hurt?” Shen asked, anyway.

“No. A little bruised, but no hits. You?”

“I’m alright,” Shen lied. “Why did you do it, Zuli? It was an insane risk.” He didn’t bother
explaining what he meant.

Zuli looked at him sideways, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to make eye contact. “I owed
you,” he said at last. Shaking his head and tugging on a clean shirt. His sweaty hair was
drying, springing up in short tufts. It was cute, like a mussed puppy.

“You owe me nothing.” He didn’t.

Shen couldn’t help feeling bitter that the kid had been forced into this life. He must have been
very young when he started training. It wasn’t right, he was fighting like he was. He should
have been kept safe a few more years.

But then what? Then he would be put to war like all the other angry, able-bodied young men.
To fight and die for his people. Shen wished there was something more in their futures. For
Zuli and Sokka, and for boys like Haoyu too. Yuxuan, while only a year older, was more
suited to fighting, he was harder, thicker skinned. He’d had to be growing up how he had.
Something else that should never have happened. But Haoyu wasn’t like that, he didn’t like
to kill, couldn’t take the fear and the stress, it would build up inside him, festering and toxic.
Shen thought Zuli might be a bit like that too. It was unfair they were pushed into this
conflict.

Shen had worked his parents’ farm until he had been fifteen, until the Fire Nation had burnt it
and driven them out. Then he joined the army. He hadn’t felt there was another choice. Too
angry already, too bitter. That had been nearly twenty years ago, he couldn’t imagine another
life now. He would fight until he died. It was easier to imagine than a life away from the
family he had made of his unit. Whatever was left of them.

He was going to go after them. He wouldn’t abandon his men if there was any chance they
still lived.

“I owed you,” Zuli said again, breaking him from his thoughts. “Not just for saving me, but
for the other stuff. For your kindness.”

“Kindness is a gift freely given, kid. It’s not something that needs to be weighed up and
returned in equal measure.”

“I know. But…” He grimaced, looking at the floor. “I...It was my fault! What happened,” he
burst out at last, his voice going up in pitch and volume in his distress. “They were hunting
for me.”

“That doesn’t make it your fault. They were the ones that chose to attack us.” And Huang
was the one who had sent the 54th into a trap.

The boy looked so tormented, Shen heaved himself up to go to him, but he stumbled, as a
wave of dizziness hit him, all his hurts making themselves known at once.

Zuli’s head shot up and his eyes narrowed. “You lied.”

“Did not,” Shen said reflexively. “About what?”

“About being okay, you’re hurt.” It sounded like an accusation.

“I’m fine, Zuli. Just tired.”

The boy marched up and pushed at him. Shen may have been exhausted and a little sick, but
he wasn’t going to be shoved over by some pint-sized brat. The kid was strong, though, and
he did teeter a bit. “Stop, I’m fine.”

“Sit down and let me tend your injuries.”

“I’m fine, Zuli.” he tried again.

Zuli snorted and kicked him in the back of the knee, making him stagger off balance enough
for the kid to push him onto his arse. Shen let out a huff of surprised air and blinked up at his
scowling face. “You would make an interesting field medic. Very sensitive.”

“Shut up, Shen.” Zuli pointed a finger at him. “Stay there. I’m going to get the salve.”

Shen watched him storm back to the saddlebags, resigned. He hoped Sokka was having good
luck explaining whatever the situation was to Suki. At least that would have been an amusing
conversation to overhear. Instead, he was stuck with Zuli playing nurse, Sokka had whined at
great length about how dreadful he was at it, so Shen was not waiting for his tender mercies
with great anticipation or enthusiasm.

……………………………

Dawn was filtering through the smokey courtyard, and order had been somewhat restored to
Lao Fort, but there was no way Kazuma could unwind enough to catch a few hours sleep. He
sat in his office, behind his desk, and watched Ichika as she fidgeted. She had changed out of
her ruined robe, although she still appeared a little dishevelled. Her arm was bandaged
carefully. The intruder had not harmed her, other than a small cut to her throat, but her efforts
to escape to raise the alarm had nearly killed her. Ichika’s bending was so weak as to be
practically nonexistent, but she had attempted to burn her way through her bindings and in so
doing had accidentally set her own sleeve on fire. She was a brilliant woman, with a brilliant
mind, but she was a little…chaotic at times.

Kazuma scratched at his own bandages with irritation. The various injuries to his neck itched
and stung, although not as much as his pride.

“This is a disaster,” Ichika said, looking at him with an expression that was just short of a
glare.

“I know.”
“When Tsing gets back to a fortress that’s been half blown to bits, soldiers killed, prisoners
escaped…”

“I know.”

“And the Blue Spirit!”

“I know.”

“Someone’s head is going to roll, and it’s going to be yours, Kazuma.”

He took a deep breath. What had happened had not exactly been his fault, but if he had made
other choices, the outcome would have no doubt been different. He had prioritised taking his
prisoner back to Lao Fort and not continued to attack the enemy camp. If he had done so,
would he have managed to get his hands on the Blue Spirit? Or had Captain Shen been
correct? Would Ro have made an attempt on Kazuma’s life? He thought he might, if he could
get away with it.

Kazuma’s decision not to pursue them might also cause some issues. He desperately wanted
to, he was so close. But practical concerns won out. They had wounded men and women to
deal with; the fortress had been badly damaged in places, and their stores burnt. Ensuring the
men and beasts had food and medicine had to be the priority, although he wasn’t sure Tsing
would see it that way. No, Tsing was more likely to see it as an act of insubordination.

He probably wasn’t far off with that assumption. The results of tonight’s disaster cut and
clawed at Kazuma. He was proud of his men for not stopping fighting when they saw he had
been taken hostage. They followed their orders to the letter.

And they had died for it.

If they had laid down their weapons or stood back to let the prisoners escape, would they
have lived? The boy, the Blue Spirit, had let him live, when he really shouldn’t have. It gave
him no advantage and could bring several disadvantages. But it was something that had often
been noted by the people he interviewed; the Blue Spirit would kill, but only if he had to.

Kazuma sighed and cracked his knuckles, a nervous habit that drove Ichika mad. He was fed
up with always having to make these choices, of the consequences of them, where innocent
people had to suffer.

Ichika looked distressed at his lack of response, as well she might. She was not wrong, it
would be Kazuma’s head on the block, possibly literally.

“Your best chance is to not be here when he returns,” she said at last. She looked sourly at the
plate of sweet treats he’d had brought for her, like she found their presence insulting. “Even
better, catch the Blue Spirit. You know where they are going, return to the camp and take the
boy.”

“I’m not sure that’s what they’re planning,” Kazuma said with some frustration. He and
Ichika had checked through Tsing’s desk. The secret compartments were undisturbed as far as
he could tell, but he didn’t have the key to unlock them. It was possible the Water Tribe boy
hadn’t had a chance to go through them before being disturbed, as he had questioned Ichika
about executions, information which had been in the draws. If he had seen it, why would he
have needed to ask her? But more to the point, who or what had he been looking for? It was
curious in a way that chafed at him. What had he been after? A new target? An ally? The
people he had mentioned had been from various backgrounds, and their crimes equally
diverse. “Captain Shen might go back to his men, but I doubt the boys will. They know we
have them in our sights, they were running from Ro, and will continue to do so. They’ll
disappear.”

“Until the next raid,” Ichika said, with irritation. She stuffed a slice of honey cake into her
mouth and chewed angrily, crumbs falling into her lap. “You have to try.”

“I will. There is another option.”

“You think you can track him now? Find him?” She knew him well after all these years. He
would honestly be lost without her. She pursed her lips, thinking. “You have a good guess at
his age and a fake name. I suppose if you track the Water Tribe boy…but there is no
guarantee they will remain together, and following him might be harder than you think.”

“I know far more than that.” Kazuma leaned back in his chair, wincing as the injuries to his
neck pulled.

“That he’s colony born? That he’s probably half Fire?” She looked a little scandalised at the
thought.

“Perhaps, but I’m not so sure that he is.”

She nodded. “It would make more sense if he was Earth. Although, I suppose we are not kind
to those of a dual heritage here, either. So some resentment is always possible. It shouldn’t be
discounted.”

Kazuma shook his head. “No, I suspect he’s fully Fire Nation. His accent is Caldera.” He
could remember the shock of hearing that, it had been such a surprise he hadn’t been able to
control his reaction to it. “Well born, Caldera.” He was no son of a shop worker or a ladies’
maid. He was nobility, Kazuma was sure of it.

Ichika’s mouth fell open a little. She didn’t argue with him though, he wouldn’t have said it if
he didn’t believe it.

“There is a strong possibility he’s someone’s bastard of course,” he said, to keep the options
open. It was more likely that was the case. Illegitimate offspring could inherit, if their parent
had failed to produce a child within wedlock. But if one was born on the right side of the
sheets, then any bastards could become a hindrance and might be discreetly…removed.

“Anything else?” Ichika asked faintly.

His mind went back to the fight, the way the boy had used his body, almost like a deadly
dance. “Yes. I believe he was trained by Master Piandao, that, or by someone who learned
under him.”

She let out a breath. “That could narrow things down, how old did the Earth Kingdom captain
say he was?”

“Sixteen, but he might have lied about his age as well as his name, so I would look for
anything between fourteen and twenty. Although, I suspect he’s most likely to be towards the
upper end of that, any lower would have made him too young when he began his raids.”

“You could ask Piando. You know the man, don’t you?”

She knew full well he did, although she didn’t know the particulars. He owed a great deal to
the sword master, his life, probably, and he didn’t want to put him in an awkward position.

He cracked his knuckles again, trying to distract himself from the worry as well as the itch of
the cuts on his neck. The boy had been less heavy-handed than captain Shen, but he had still
added to the multitude of wounds to his throat. Ash and bone, but he was lucky to be alive.
He still couldn’t quite believe that he was. Between the two Earth Kingdom prisoners and the
Blue Spirit, it was frankly shocking.

“Stop that,” Ichika reprimanded him, glaring at his fingers.

He leaned forward again, elbows on the table, and rested his head in his hands for a moment,
both buzzing with plans and thoughts and too exhausted to function.

“There is one further possibility,” he said at last.

“Oh?”

“Zhao, maybe Ro too, probably already know who he is. Ro told me he was in the camp, so
they knew the kid was the Blue Spirit when they were holding him. Zhao may be common
born, but he’s been rubbing shoulders with the nobility for years, it’s highly likely he
recognised him, or has some idea about his family.”

Ichika narrowed her eyes. “If he knew, if he captured him, but didn’t turn him over…”

“That would be a crime worthy of an official rebuke if I could prove it. Of course, what he
did instead was take out his own brand of vengeance on the boy,” Kazuma said with distaste.
“Which deserves far more than a slap on the wrist.”

“You believe those accusations? That’s the kind of thing that could end a career if you’re
wrong. Not that you will have one to lose after this.”

“Thanks, Ichika.”

“Well, it’s true. You will be lucky if all you get is a court martial.”

“Either I catch the Blue Spirit and save my skin, or I don’t, but perhaps either way I can at
least take down a corrupt officer, because, yes, I do believe the accusations.” Captain Shen’s
anger and horror had been palpable. It was very clear, even from the few conversations
they’d had, and from what Kazuma had seen of his interactions with the boy, that the care
between them was real.

He rubbed his face, trying to wake himself up a little more. “I doubt this is the first time Zhao
has done something like this, and Ro certainly not. I need to dig up their records, everything
from enlistment at least. And then I need to find and speak to the people who knew him from
his earlier commissions. Who might…resent him enough to share the truth.”

“That’s a dangerous game, Kazuma. He is in favour.”

“A man can fall out of favour as quickly as he has gained it.” Even the possibility of a
scandal could ruin a career, ruin lives and families. He knew that all too well. “I need
something I can use as leverage to get the boy’s name and family out of the man.”

Maybe, if he was lucky, he could save the kid as well. It wasn’t likely, but if he managed to
get the boy to trial, and used the right points of law…he might be able to make a case for
imprisonment rather than execution, and he would keep him out of the hands of the men who
had abused him.

“Where will you start?” Ichika asked, watching him closely.

He wondered if his exhaustion meant his thoughts were obvious on his face. “Caldera.”

“Which conveniently takes you out of Tsing’s blast range.”

“I may like to live by the letter of the law, but I am not planning to take the fall for something
that is only tangentially my fault. Not when there might be a way out.”

“I’m glad you are seeing sense. I will come with you, of course.” She bit into another slice of
honey cake, less angrily this time.

“It might be better if you didn’t. Not that I couldn’t use your talent with information, and
your company.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Kazuma.”

“Very true. But if I go down, I have no wish to take you with me.”

“You won’t,” she said with an air of certainty he did not share. “I am not accountable for your
actions. You ordered me to do a task, the fault is yours.”

“I am not sure the courts or our commanders will see it that way.”

“Well, you better make sure you achieve your goal, then. I consider it my job to keep you
alive. If you lose your position, it would be a travesty, but it’s manageable. If Tsing makes an
example out of you, or Zhao discovers you digging up his dirty secrets, you could lose a lot
more than your commission.”

“Let’s try to avoid that.” He rubbed a hand over his eyes again. “I want to keep my rank, I
want to complete the task I was set and capture the Blue Spirit, the past few years have been
about little else. And to finally have sight of my goal…” he trailed off. “But now, I feel…
recent events…” he scowled down at the desk, unable to quite find the words to express how
he felt. The disgust, the responsibility.

He thought about his horror at some of the things Ro had done, that he himself had not
stopped, like the murder and torture of innocent civilians. Kazuma felt like the feelings those
memories inspired would become poisonous, corrupting him from the inside out if he didn’t
do something.

Ro he could probably take down, he was close in rank, and there might be people under him
willing to testify to his behaviour. However, they risked him saying he was just obeying
orders. Which, while probably true, didn’t excuse the level to which he had gone. Cruelty like
that, used so openly, got to that stage when it was allowed to fester under a negligent
commander, one who let it slide, or worse, outright encouraged it.

It was Zhao he had to take down first. He might be able to use Ro, if he had something on
him that was tangible and could not be excused away with vague orders. But Zhao had to be
the one he aimed at. He could use him to uncover the identity of the Blue Spirit, but he also
wanted justice for what had been done to the boy. That only seemed fair, he couldn’t sit by
and let someone like the admiral just get away with that. He had been telling the truth when
he said there would be no justice in Li’s case, not for him specifically. If by some miracle he
got both Zhao and the Blue Spirit to court, the complicated situation would mean it was most
likely the boy would be accused of lying, and the charges dismissed, possibly ruining any
chance of bringing Zhao down.

If he was going to get him, it could not be related to the Blue Spirit, or Li. No, Kazuma had
to identify and prove a pattern of behaviour. Prove that he had abused his station, prove
treason if he could, threaten to, if not.

“Tomorrow, we should leave,” Ichika said, breaking into his thoughts. She was looking at
him with exhausted, warm affection. “Get some sleep,”

“I will try to get justice,” he told her, unable to tear his thoughts away from his plans.

She sighed. “Sleep first, justice in the morning, or afternoon, or whenever we have to wake to
get out of this place.” She stood, dislodging numerous crumbs onto his clean floor, and
scowling at the sun as its rays streamed in through the window.

“Sleep well, Ichika.”

“Get yourself to bed, Kazuma. You may be used to passing out in your chair, but you need
proper rest. You need a clear head.”

He nodded, but made no move to stand. She scowled at him as she slipped out to the door to
find her own quarters.

She was right, he should sleep. He was exhausted, his body ached, his neck prickled and
burned where it had been cut and his heart hurt from the knowledge of what his people had
done. From the fact he had stood by and let a massacre take place. He had saved Captain
Shen from Ro’s torture, but had still been forced to let him have his hour of fun first. It was
clear that entertainment was all it had been, an hour wasn’t enough time to get information.
Not that information extracted under torture could be trusted.

And somehow, under all that weighty shame and guilt, he had still found the time to indulge
in a little more. Some of the more personal shame he kept buried deep, deep down. He had
allowed himself a moment of indulgence with the Earth Kingdom captain, not just because he
was interesting company, which he was, but because Kazuma found him attractive. That was
not something he ever allowed himself, and it was just typical that one moment of weakness
had somehow led to this.

Although, if he was being honest, and not just wallowing in his tired, fluctuating emotions,
then he could see that rationally, this disaster would have happened no matter what. The Blue
Spirit would have come to rescue his…friend. Kazuma, having a mild crisis, had nothing to
do with it.

And even the crisis itself was perhaps not as bad as he currently felt it was. It was true
Captain Shen was an attractive man, he was tall with wide shoulders and his warm, green
flecked brown eyes were appealing. But the world was full of tall, handsome men, ones
that’d had their noses broken a few less times, and didn’t hate Kazuma’s guts. He didn’t
know why he had been so taken with this one. Maybe it was to do with his challenging
words, his insistence on revealing the unfairness and cruelty that had occurred around him
despite the punishment Kazuma would have been at liberty to inflict for his outspoken
behaviour.

Or perhaps that was the answer, maybe it was because Captain Shen was so out of bounds it
was ludicrous. The temptation was such that there was no risk at all of Kazuma giving into it.
It was almost safe. He could take just a few moments to imagine the human connection.
Remember what that sort of touch had been like, the exciting thrill of lust and the tenderness
of romantic affection. If this situation had not arisen, then that small flight of fancy would
have gone back into its box where it belonged. And then he would have stood by and let
Tsing question the man, and when he was done, if Shen still lived, then Kazuma would have
stood by and watched his execution.

Maybe there was a selfish part of him that was glad that he didn’t have to endure that, that
neither of them did.

He was too tired and sore to even summon much disgust at himself over the thought of either
his cowardice or his inappropriate, deviant desires, but he was sure it would come. It had
been over twenty years since he had formed that kind of connection, as wrong as it was, and
he had more than learnt his lesson. Never again. Just the thought of it turned his stomach and
made guilt creep over his skin.

He pushed himself up. Ichika was right, he did need to find his bed. He didn’t know how long
until Tsing returned, but it would be best if he was not close enough to receive a message to
return to Lao River Fort.

He had not been born to be in the army. His father had mocked him for his love of books and
history, calling him a librarian like it was an insult. His sister had laughed far more gently and
 said he should have been an archivist. He had a talent for information gathering, for finding
things, finding secrets. He and Ichika worked remarkably well together doing just that, and
with her help, he had made enough of a name for himself, he could generally avoid battles,
and spent his time ferreting out criminals and political dissenters. The Blue Spirit had been a
real challenge, a ghost. But now, he had a corporeal form, and Kazuma had his scent. They
would find him and bring him to justice. And simultaneously, bring an end to Zhao’s
despicable behaviour.

Maybe something good could come of this fiasco, after all.

Chapter End Notes

Next chapter, Katara grapples with her bad news, Sokka and Suki have a serious talk
and Zuko's rather dubious luck strikes again.
 Chapter 18
Chapter Summary

"It’s possible that he’s another of the many, many Fire Nation officers Zuko has
apparently annoyed or enraged to the point of actual murder over the years."

Chapter Notes

Thank you for all the lovely comments and kudos!

Chapter Warnings: References to torture and associated injuries, blood and threat, panic
attack, flashback, Zuko’s bedside manner

Many thanks to my beta burkesl17, who has managed to wrangle my dyslexic nonsense.
All mistakes are my own.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

It had finally happened, but Katara didn’t feel any relief or vindication. Just a knot of anger,
fear and sadness that sat low in her gut.

Aang’s face was unhappy, but not distraught. “We will miss you, Uncle,” he said.

Katara wished they hadn’t come here. She was the one who had chosen the Misty Palms
Oasis as their vacation destination, which made it worse. The dusty, dried up town hadn’t
even been worth the trip, with its mostly melted ice turret and mostly deserted streets. She
was feeling guilty for choosing it, so when Iroh had spotted a man playing Pai Sho, a game
he had been trying to teach them for weeks with little success, Katara had been glad he had
found someone to entertain him and indulge his love for the game.

But then, while Aang enthusiastically chatted to the scholar, Professor Zei, Uncle had said he
was just slipping out for a bit, and he and the man had left.
Katara could feel there was something off, but she had let it go, turning back to Aang.
Professor Zei had been talking about a mysterious hidden library that contained knowledge of
things long gone from the world. Aang had become enthused by the idea. They would have
records, written accounts of the airbenders. He had said it was because he wanted the recipe
for the southern temple’s famous fruit custard tarts, but Katara knew it was a lot more than
that. The Fire Nation had cleared out or burnt any books or scrolls on bending or air nomad
history. Erasing their culture and memory along with their people. Aang needed to explore
the possibility something of it had survived. Even if admitting it was anything more than fruit
tarts was too traumatic for Aang to really deal with right now.

So, a mission for recipes it was.

When Uncle had returned, it had been late, and Aang and Toph were already asleep. But
Katara couldn’t let herself rest until he was back safe.

As soon as she saw his face, she knew.

He was going to leave. Whatever he had learned from Pai Sho man had changed the situation
for him.

He was going to leave.

It made so much emotion and fear swim up in her chest she lay her head down and feigned
sleep, pushing her face into her arm and willing the feelings to leave her.

They did not, and sleep came patchy and disturbed.

“I will see you again, Aang. I have no doubt of that,” Uncle smiled at him, warm and honest
and kind, and Katara felt an uncomfortable feeling that was a bit too close to hate for
comfort. Betrayal, maybe.

“You’re making a big assumption that Azula won’t just kill you,” Katara said, with perhaps
more bite in her voice than she intended. Since her brother had died, she seemed to have
caught his pessimism. Perhaps it was time to claw back a little of her more moderate
optimism. A middle ground between Aang’s exuberance and Sokka’s cynicism. After all,
how could she actually begrudge Iroh trying to save the last of his family, when she herself
would have levelled cities if it meant she could have her brother back? “I’m scared for you,
Uncle,” she admitted, to soften the harshness of her earlier words, and also, because it was
true.

His face softened further. “I know, and I am sorry. I know it is dangerous, but my source tells
me my niece is being called home. This may be my only chance to catch her before she
returns to the Fire Nation and her father’s influence.”
“I understand. But we will miss you.” That was not what she meant at all, although it was
also true.

“I will miss you too, all of you, more than I can say.”

Aang closed the gap between them and hugged him. “Will you come back?” he asked.

Katara thought there was an edge of calm to him, like he knew Iroh would return, like he
lacked the fear that was crawling around in her own guts at losing him. She would like to
think that was because he had some sort of Avatar power of foretelling, but it was probably
because he refused to contemplate anything else.

“I will. I would not abandon you, any more than I would my niece. I need to go to her now,
but I will return to you. And when the time comes, if you have not found another, I will teach
you firebending,” he told Aang, returning the hug for a moment, then pushing back from him
so he could look him in the eye.

“Thank you,” Aang said. Although Katara was still pretty sure he was intending to miss out
the firebending part of his training. Still, it was the first time that Iroh had offered. It meant
something. Although she wondered if he believed he really would be Aang’s teacher when it
came to it. In Katara’s opinion, he still seemed to think the fates would arrange things in such
a way they would line up someone else. Katara wasn’t sure just how much she believed in
destiny. To some extent she did, it wasn’t chance she and Sokka had found Aang the way
they had. And Aang had a vision of Toph before they met her, that was very far from chance.

That two of Aang’s teachers so far had turned out to be close in age to him had also not
escaped her notice, and she was sure it had not escaped Iroh’s, either. He was promising to
help them as reassurance, but Katara was also certain he did not believe it was his place to be
Aang’s teacher—he believed they would find someone else. Probably another kid with the
same sort of potential they had.

She was relatively sure he was not deluded enough to think it would be Azula.

Mostly sure.

She hoped.

Then it was their last day together. Katara thought it might be easier if they just parted
without drawing it out, but at the same time, she didn’t want the day to end.

Iroh had taken Aang to speak to Professor Zei. After they parted ways, it had been decided
they would go to the library. It seemed like a positive thing they could do, looking for
something tangible for Aang to hold on to when it came to the loss of his people.

That left her and Toph. They had taken a couple of the barman’s fruity concoctions and gone
to sit near the very underwhelming natural ice spring. Despite being ice, it didn’t offer any
relief from the dusty heat. The relentlessness of it felt like it was getting under Katara’s skin
like an itch.

She tried to ignore it, and get on with something useful. Toph was happy enough to allow
Katara to experiment on her a little. Iroh had been teaching her to sense chi. She was sort of
getting it, but mostly she used it to ‘see’ the pathways in the body. To find sickness and hurts
to heal. Each person felt different, although the main paths were the same, some things were
disrupted, or restructured in some bodies, depending on what they had experienced. Toph’s
was vastly different from Aang’s, it felt almost like her chi reached beyond the confines of
her body, sort of the way it felt when Katara looked at Iroh’s paths when he bent fire. It was
fascinating. And proved enough of a distraction from her thoughts to allow herself to calm
down a little.

But unfortunately, it left just enough space for her mind to wonder, to think about what might
happen after tomorrow. She thought Toph had looked a little too composed with all the
upheaval, disinterested almost. It made Katara upset until she saw the small, tight downturn
of Toph’s mouth. She was sad too, but would probably die rather than admit it. Katara
narrowed her eyes and Toph turned her head ever so slightly towards her, perhaps picking up
on some change in her body with her emotions. Toph grinned wide and empty, and Katara
swallowed back her words. She was not going to pick a fight with her over this. She had to
remind herself, people dealt with loss differently, and between the three of them, she wasn’t
sure if any of them were doing it in a way that was exactly healthy.

“You shouldn’t worry about him so much, Sugar Queen,” Toph said, no doubt using that
obnoxious nickname to get a rise out of her.

Katara tipped her head up, ignoring all provocation with grace, even if she said so herself.
Although she may have tightened her hands slightly where they lay against Toph’s back.
Feeling her chi without the use of water as the other girl idly juggled some rocks.

“Why wouldn’t I worry about him?” She felt it was a legitimate question.

“Because he’s a canny old man. Don’t be fooled by his soft, squishy exterior.”

“He’s too kind and too hurt,” Katara snapped without meaning to. “He lost Zuko, so he’ll risk
everything for Azula, and she is not the same as her brother at all.”

Toph shook Katara’s hands off her and turned her sightless eyes to stare at her face, as usual,
just off centre enough to be mildly disconcerting. “General Iroh is the Dragon of the West.
He’s no fool, not even for his family. He has a plan.” She sounded so confident. And
probably actually knew more about the man Iroh had been before recent events than Katara
did. She just knew him as Zuko’s uncle, and as their friend. Not a general who had almost
taken Ba Sing Se. She couldn’t honestly imagine it. But Toph was Earth Kingdom nobility,
she had probably been taught this stuff, or at least grown up listening to gossip about it.

But although Toph may have known his military history, she had not seen the height of his
grief for his nephew. “He is a fool for his family,” she said. “He was for Zuko, now for
Azula. But Zuko, for all his many, many faults, was not ruthless in the same way as his sister.
When we first met her, she used her own brother’s death to throw Iroh off, and then she tried
to shoot him with lightning!” The hair on her arms stood up just thinking about that.

Toph nodded, somehow not giving the impression of softening her position with the action. “I
admit she is pretty ruthless. I don’t doubt she would try to kill him if it benefited her. But I
also trust the clever old goat has a plan. He knows her.”

“Does he?” Katara snapped. “I’m not even convinced he knew Zuko all that well and they
travelled together for three years. I don’t think there will be any getting through to her.”

“You think you know his family better than he does?” Now she sounded a little scornful.

“That’s not what I meant,” Katara snapped. “When you love someone, you don’t always see
their faults, I think...” she paused to try to collect her words. “You only see what you want to
see in them, is what I mean.”

“Well, you would know.” Toph sent one of her rocks skipping across the dusty ground like
you would skim a rock on a lake.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I just mean you come from a family unit where that might be the case. I don’t. We’re from
different worlds, that’s all,”

Katara was sure there was something sharp and snide behind the words, and she could feel
her temper heating almost to match the hot air outside. She got up, frowning down at her
friend. “That’s more than enough for today,” she said. She wasn’t just talking about chi
practice.

She was feeling a little bad for snapping at Toph. The girl could get under her skin, but at the
same time, Katara thought she could perceive the vulnerability in her, and now her emotions
had cooled, she could admit that perhaps she had been reading too much into her friend’s
words. Toph could say mean things, but she didn’t hide them. She was blunt and honest, and
it was actually pretty refreshing. The truth was she liked Toph, she just didn’t know how to
handle her.

Katara headed for where Appa was ‘stabled’, which was also serving as their own campsite.
She felt a little melancholy as she mused over her earlier words. She thought Sokka would
have enjoyed Toph’s company, and enjoyed arguing with her, too. The thought made Katara
both warm, and as always, achingly sad.

They would part ways in the morning, and the prospect of that was weighing heavy on her.
But she tucked down her fears, her emotions, and decided to attempt to be practical, more
Sokka style. She might as well attempt to adopt his logic as well as his cynicism.
As she had suspected, Iroh was sorting through his things beside Appa’s large form. The sky
bison was resting in the heat, but he seemed to be keeping Iroh company as he packed. The
old man was laying out everything he owned, clearly with the intention of only taking the one
bag as he would be going on foot.

“Uncle,” Katara greeted him, and he gave her a warm smile, although he also looked a little
sad. “Let me help.”

“Thank you for the offer, Katara, but there is no need.”

“I want to.” He had folded his clothes into tight little bundles, something she assumed he
learned in the military, although she would have imagined he would have had someone to do
that sort of thing for him. Perhaps it was after, he had said he had travelled after the Siege of
Ba Sing Se.

Beside the clothes, he had laid out some scrolls, a tea set, a fold-away Pai Sho board and a
number of frivolous items, including shells, dried flowers and a small ugly statue of a pig
chicken.

“You can’t take all this, Uncle. You’ll break your back,” she chided him gently.

“I don’t look it, but my old bones are still strong!” He said, adding a second tea set to the one
already on the pile.

“You won’t have room for food,” she tried again. She could feel annoyance moving through
her, almost like a wave heading through the ocean. Why was he being so silly and stubborn
about this? There was no way one person could carry all this stuff, plus the supplies he would
need to get to wherever Azula was. Ugh, just the thought of her name made the wave of
feeling swell.

“Well...” Iroh contemplated his collection of items, and then thoughtfully discarded a couple
of seashells.

For some reason, that made the wave break against the rocks, and something inside her
exploded. She kicked dust onto his tea set, wishing she could just break it, smash it into bits.
But despite her temper, she wasn’t that far gone. Not yet. “Toph thinks you have a plan, that
I’m being stupid to worry, but you can’t even pack a bag sensibly!” she burst out.

He looked surprised at her vehemence, but didn’t otherwise react.

“Well? Do you have a plan? Or are you going to throw your life away trying to help someone
who hates you?” she demanded.

Iroh nodded and settled himself into a sitting position. Leaning against one of Appa’s fluffy
legs. He gestured for her to join him, but she remained stubbornly standing.

“It is impossible to have a plan until I know the situation,” Iroh said. His voice was calm and
pitched low and his face was open looking. “But I believe I can appeal to my niece’s
practicality. It is quite possible, from the rumours I have heard, that Azula is not as fully in
favour as she may have been previously. Which is something that I had predicted might
happen.”

“Her orders were to kill you. Don’t you think it’s likely that she might win a bit of that favour
back by handing over your corpse? Don’t you think that’s a risk?”

“It is a risk.” He looked a little longingly at his tea set, like he wished he could be making a
calming cup of his favourite brew. “But she is a smart girl, less prone to emotional outbursts
than Zuko was. I have to make it worth her while to keep me around.”

“And how are you planning on doing that?” Katara put her fists on her hips, aware she was
mirroring her brother again.

“By helping keep her alive. By offering her another option other than the life of fear she has
under her father’s yoke. She will listen.” He sounded so sure, but there was no reason for it,
no evidence that would be the case. He was being so stupid!

“You don’t know that!” Her voice went up again. She couldn’t get a handle on her anger, first
with Toph, now this. She was so mad she wanted to bite someone.

“Are you sure you won’t sit, Katara? I can make us some tea while we talk?”

“I don’t want any of your stupid tea!”

His face made a complicated expression, something between affection and sorrow, like he
was smiling at a sad memory. She sucked in a breath, trying to fight herself back under
control, she hadn’t meant to fight with him.

“You seem distressed. Did you argue with young Master Toph again?” He asked, like that
was what had her all tangled up.

But now that he mentioned it. “She doesn’t understand why I’m upset. She thinks because I
came from a family that I wanted to be in, that I don’t understand the way other families are.”

“Are you sure that’s what she meant?” Iroh asked, voice annoyingly agreeable, “I believe
Toph understands her own limitations in that regard, and it would be foolish for her to judge
others too harshly.”

Katara snorted rudely, anger rushing through her, almost freeing in its intensity, but also
frightening. “The difference between us is that she left her family, but my family left me!”

A look of great sadness appeared on Iroh’s face, and he opened his arms to her. Just the sight
of it caused all her anger to turn to misery, and she fell into them, letting herself cry out the
fear and the loss. Her mother had been murdered, her brother had been killed, she had no idea
if her father or Bato were still alive. Her only remaining family were Aang, Toph and Iroh.
And he was leaving her too.

He stroked her hair as she cried, his hand soft and careful, almost reverent. His family had
also been taken from him, his son and nephew, at least. She could completely understand why
he would leave and go to Azula, she just didn’t want him to. But there was nothing she
wouldn’t do, short of betraying Aang or her people, if she thought there would be a chance to
save her brother. She thought about it all the time. Thought about going back in time to
change things, to stop him going on that fateful, stupid mission.

“I will come back, Katara. I have no intention of letting you, of letting any of you, go. Family
does not only mean blood.”

“I know.” She sniffed, the sound was embarrassingly disguising, but kind of satisfying all the
same, the way it made his lips twitch.

“You are too good at handling us,” she told him, her voice still thick with tears. She felt some
of the pressure had been released in her chest, though. “Don’t think I don’t know that’s what
you’re doing. Toph called you a canny old man, she’s right isn’t she?”

He smiled, warm and amused, if also touched with regret. “I have had some experience
dealing with explosive, angry and hurt teenagers. I have had less experience with comforting
them. Zuko would never let me. So I am making it up as I go!” She smiled, a little less sad. “I
am very glad to hear I am doing it well,” he added softly. “I will be back.”

Katara found Toph back by the Ice Spring. Still idly skipping stones. “Sorry,” she said as she
sat beside her. “For getting upset.”

“I’m not looking forward to the desert,” Toph said, voice almost bored. “Don’t like sand.
Don’t like flying much, either.”

That was as much of an admission Katara was going to get that she was sorry too. Taking out
your fear on your family seemed to be a thing they both suffered from, but at least they could
acknowledge it. Perhaps they could work on it, going forward.

“Of course, the company could use some work too, don’t you think, Sugar Queen?” Toph
said in the same disinterested tone, although her lips were pinched suspiciously.

Katara scowled at her, while Toph’s face split into a grin. Or perhaps not.

……………..

“Thank you for not saying anything,” Sokka said as they headed into the trees.

“I am assuming there is an excellent explanation for this?”

Suki shook his hand off her sleeve, but when he glanced at her, she looked more exasperated
than angry. That made him feel a little less panicked. How had he not realised this impending
problem right away? He had clearly been so consumed with worry for Zuko, his brain had
just stopped working.
“Er, yeah, I guess there is,” he said. There was, it was just long, complicated and full of
trauma he really didn’t want to go into.

“Share it with me,” Suki said, her voice a little hard. “I let things go back there, because one,”
she ticked off the point on a finger, “I trust you, and two, rescuing me from imprisonment,
even kind of by accident, counts for something. Not sure it quite covers the burning down of
my entire village, though.” She sat on a fallen tree, tucking her feet up so she was perched
cross-legged on the rough bark, her back very straight.

Sokka grimaced, slinging a leg over the log to straddle it. “Yeah, yeah, that might be a big
ask. Look, some things are not forgivable, and I won’t ask you to. You don’t have to like him
or build a bond with him. Just please don’t tell Shen anything you know without at least
giving me a heads up. Because it’s not only Zuko that’s been lying.”

“He doesn’t know anything, does he? He thinks Zuli, which is a girl’s name by the way, is
half Earth. He doesn’t know he can even bend. Don’t you think lying to him is a bit messed
up?”

“It’s unisex in the colonies,” Sokka said, although he had no idea if that was the truth. “Look,
Zuko saved my life more than once. I can’t…I can’t really explain what went down, but he
risked everything to help me when we were captured.”

“He helped you or helped himself, too?”

Sokka shrugged a little weakly. “If you’re asking if everything he did was completely
altruistic? Then no, probably not, but some of it was, and it doesn’t change the fact he saved
my life. Or what he sacrificed trying to help me.”

She was looking at him steadily. He wished he had the luxury to talk to her properly, but he
felt like he had a limited time to make his case and he could feel the pressure. It was making
him sweat even in the chilly mountain air. “When we ended up being rescued by Shen and
my dad, I returned the favour. I didn’t lie.” He grimaced. “But I may have heavily implied
some things were true when they were not.”

Her lips twitched a little, but she remained silent, letting him run his mouth.

“I had to! My dad would have listened to reason, I think, but the Earth Kingdom general? Not
a chance. Shen too, maybe. They hate the Fire Nation, Zuko being fully Fire, being a bender,
it would be too much of a risk. They would have killed him, or left him to die instead of
saving him.” He sighed and looked at his hands. “And knowing who he is? That would have
caused a whole heap of problems.”

Suki considered him carefully. “You think they would try to use him as a hostage for his
father?” She sounded like she wasn’t sure why they wouldn’t go for that.

Sokka could feel the snarl on his lips. “Yeah, and when his father laughed in their faces and
then used their actions as an excuse to stir up more violence in the colonies, they would have
taken out their frustration on their prisoner. So I misdirected my dad and the Earth Kingdom
folks.” He took a deep breath. He didn’t really have the words to explain this situation. He
didn’t know how to. “I lied to protect him because I owed him, a life for a life.” He looked
her right in the eye. No bullshit. “But honestly? Also, because I like him. I really, really do.
He’s nothing like his father, he doesn’t deserve to be associated with that pathetic excuse for
a human.”

“You seem very certain Ozai wouldn’t have traded for him,” she said, after a moment.

Sokka picked at the bark on the fallen tree with his fingernails. “His father signed his
execution warrant with no trial and no concrete evidence, just the word of one man. So yeah,
I’m pretty sure.”

Suki sighed. She didn’t look wholly convinced, but she also didn’t look like she was going to
go shouting out their secrets from the hilltops. So perhaps that was a win? It didn’t feel much
like one.

“How bad was it?” Sokka asked. “What he did in your village? I know it was destroyed,
which is pretty awful, but lay it out for me.” If he could get a handle on just how much
damage was done, it might give an indication of how he needed to approach things to keep
the peace.

She shrugged. “Not nearly as bad as it could have been. He burnt down pretty much the
whole village, which is going to cause a lot of economic problems for a while, not to mention
the distress of losing everything you own, everything your family has ever owned.” Her lips
pursed unhappily. “But he didn’t kill anyone. We would all rather the destruction than death.
There were some injuries, but nothing life changing.”

That was a serious relief, and Sokka let out a long breath. “That kind of tracks for him. He’s
not much of a killer,” he said.

“He killed people last night. We both did.”

“Because you had to. That’s different from killing just because you can. Or because you want
to.” Sokka had to shut his eyes against the sudden image of the gaping wound in Chen’s
throat that flickered bright and gory into his vision.

Suki must have seen something on his face, and she reached out a hand to him, lay it on his
knee, just the warm touch of her fingers.

“I slit a man’s throat,” Sokka said. It sort of slipped out.

She just looked at him. No judgement, no pressure.

“He was wounded from my sword and I chose to do it, not as a mercy, but because he
deserved to die for the things he did. I don’t regret it at all.” He shook his head, the anger at
Chen and the others still waiting to spill out of his chest. “I would do it again in a heartbeat.
But sometimes I can see the way it looked. Can feel the weight of the blade in my hand as it
opened skin. The way he looked when he died, the life leaving him,” he trailed off. He hadn’t
meant to share this, but now he had, he wondered if she would understand. Zuko would, of
course, but it was so tied up with the things that had happened to them, with the death of
those men specifically, that the small horrors he felt from the act itself could get muddied or
confused.

Suki took one of his hands and squeezed. Her fingers were callused like Zuko’s, although not
as hot to the touch. “It’s a lot to process,” she said. “It’s a lot. Before tonight, I killed three
men when I was trying to defend the ferries to Ba Sing Se. It was battle, them or me, and I
don’t regret or feel guilt. But...” She paused, looking up at the sky for a moment, perhaps
collecting her thoughts. “But taking a life should be something that has an impact, it should
make you feel something, even if it’s not regret. I don’t. I feel anger at what they were doing,
killing civilians. I feel nothing for them, and that frightens me a little.” She shrugged,
helplessly. “I killed those men last night, and it feels much the same. It needed to be done, I
did it. I don’t regret.”

Sokka squeezed her hand back. “My father said sometimes it takes a while for stuff to catch
up with you. That it spills over once you’re safe.”

“Is that what happened to you?”

“Sort of,” Sokka admitted. “It didn’t hit me for a few days. But then we found the body of
our friend. One of Shen’s men, actually.” Fuck, they were going to have to tell him about
that, about the amount of dead. Sokka rubbed his face with his free hand and took some
breaths, the way Zuko did when he was doing his keep calm meditation. “He had been killed
in the same way, and it just…it didn’t change my feelings, but it made it become a thing, you
know? Less like it was something some other person did, and more like it was me.”

“I think I’m happy the way things are,” Suki said with a wan grin. “No regrets sound a lot
better than the alternative, if that’s what it is!”

“Ha, yeah, sometimes it’s better not to feel things.” Sokka wished he could just turn his
emotions off.

“Are you going to tell Shen about Zuko?” she asked, changing the subject and yet somehow
not bringing any relief. “He really cares about him.”

“I know. And the care goes both ways—who’s idea do you think this batshit insane plan of
breaking into the fortress was?” He shook his head, a small smile on his lips. “It might be
different now, Shen might accept him. But if he doesn’t? Honestly, I think it would break
Zuko’s heart, and no matter what he’s done, it’s been broken more than enough.” He drew
one leg up to rest his foot on the fallen tree, hugging his knee close to his chest with an arm.
“I know that sounds strange, talking about an enemy, someone I hated the last time we met.
But there it is.”

Suki released his hand and leaned back, resting her palms against the bark. “So he really is
the Blue Spirit? Like, the one in the wanted posters who attacks the Fire Nation and freed the
Avatar from Pohuai Stronghold?”

“Yup.”

“That really doesn’t make sense to me.”

“Oh, it does when you know he’s a spiteful, vindictive little shit. He just went after people he
felt had done him wrong.” Sokka could tell that all his indulgent affection was leaking into
his words.

“And Kazuma?”

“Who?”

“The captain who was holding us. Zuko didn’t seem to know him.”

Sokka shook his head. “He’s never mentioned him. The fortress belongs to General Tsing,
he’s the usual target. That other guy is probably just incidental.”

“Hmm,” Suki mused. “Shen seemed concerned, like maybe they knew each other, he
appeared worried he might recognise Zuko, or Li as the Blue Spirit.”

“That would probably be a disaster,” Sokka agreed. “But like I said, he’s never mentioned a
Kazuma. It’s possible that he’s another of the many, many Fire Nation officers Zuko has
apparently annoyed or enraged to the point of actual murder over the years. I’ll ask him when
we get back.”

“Make sure to do it in front of Shen. He had a weird moment with that Kazuma guy, and then
got really entertainingly flustered when I called him on it.”

“Flustered? What kind of moment?” Sokka could feel himself grin. He didn’t think he could
imagine Shen being ruffled, he always seemed composed and sure of himself.

“The guy had the hots for him, I think. Excuse the pun.” She shrugged, also grinning, but
Sokka felt his own slip off his face.

“What do you mean?” he asked. “What did he do?”

Suki cocked her head at him. “Nothing, he was pretty nice to us, considering the situation and
the provocation. Shen went off at him for a number of things, and then sort of got all intent
and sexy at him, and Kazuma kind of panicked and ran away—although he came back later
with splints and stuff.”

“Nothing else happened? It wasn’t…Shen was alright with him?” Sokka didn’t think he could
even express what he meant.

“Yeah, he was fine. He got all blushy and embarrassed after, because I was there, not because
of anything between them, I don’t think.” She squinted at him in concern. “Are you okay,
Sokka?”

Sokka nodded. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine.” He pulled his other leg up so he could curl around both
his knees, balancing painfully on his sit bones. He closed his eyes briefly, trying to chase
away the image of Zhao’s smirk when Zuko had apologised to him, face to the floor. The
look Ro gave them both when he returned Zuko to the cell the morning after. After he had…
He shuddered, maybe closing his eyes was a bad idea.
“Sokka?” Warm fingers on his skin again. Not hot, just normal human touch. Grounding and
comforting. Suki had one hand gently on his arm. “Are you okay?”

She was giving him a look that was far too searching, like she had followed his thoughts and
resulting distress. Thank all the spirits above and below, she wasn’t asking questions, but he
could see them behind her eyes.

“I’m fine. It’s nothing,” he said, a little shaky. “Here I am talking and dumping my shit on
you. Are you okay?” he asked. Ah, deflection, he did love it. “How did you end up in Tsing’s
jail? Why did you leave your home?”

She let go of his arm and leaned back again, considering. “I had to,” she said, allowing him to
steer the conversation away for now. “I realised I couldn’t sit out the war. Not everyone
agreed with me, but those girls that did joined me. We made our way to Ba Sing Se. Got a job
protecting the ferries, helping the refugees.” She grimaced. “It was pretty grim, a lot of
desperate people.”

Suki had a look on her face that reminded Sokka of one of Zuko’s—something between
anger and loss and fierce pride. “My girls fought hard. But six verses an army is hardly going
to end in a win. Even if the Blue Spirit and I gave it a bit of a go last night.”

“I wish I had seen that.” He did. He didn’t think he would ever tire of seeing her fight.
Especially now he was a little less embarrassed about how much better at it she was than him.
And he kind of wanted to see Zuko fight with his swords too. He had, but not when he was at
liberty to actually watch rather than just desperately try to survive.

“I don’t know what happened to them. They separated us,” Suki said, quietly.

Sokka thought about it. Running over all the information from Tsing’s desk. “There’s a big
prison camp at East Lake. People are sent on from there to appropriate penitentiaries or work
camps.”

“That might be worth a look,” her voice was determined.

“You can’t go by yourself, Suki.”

“Yeah? What would you do? You, who just broke into a fortress to rescue one random man
because he’s your friend.”

“We owed him,” Sokka protested weakly, but then signed, “Yeah, okay, I take your point. I
have to go to Ba Sing Se. But you know what, if I remember my Earth Kingdom geography
correctly, East Lake is kind of on the way. Or at least, it’s not exactly out of the way. I’m also
going to bet good money that Shen will want to go after his men, too.”

She grinned at him, the yellowing bruises a sad replacement for her Kyoshi makeup. Her face
was as beautiful as ever, but her injuries were ugly with old pain and loss in the warm
morning light. “Shall we go back?” she said.

“Yeah. So, um, you won’t say anything?”

She stood and stretched, squinting up at the sun, obnoxiously bright and pleasant, beaming
through the trees. “Tell me three reasons I shouldn’t. Why you trust him, why I should. Is it
just because you owe him, like you owe Shen, or is it more?”

Sokka thought about it. Stretching out his own back and hobbling awkwardly when his butt
protested from how he had been sitting. He didn’t think it mattered what he said, she was just
digging for some understanding. He was pretty certain she would keep what she knew to
herself, but even so, he still thought about it, as it was a good opportunity to build some
bridges, or perhaps lay the groundwork. “He’s honest,” he said at last. “Like painfully,
awfully honest. He can’t lie for shit, although he tries sometimes.”

“So he’s honest out of necessity?”

Sokka sighed, giving her an affectionately annoyed look. He was still sure she was actually
on board, she was just asking this stuff to rile him up. Maybe to prove some sort of point, or
make sure of something in her mind. But mostly to annoy him. For some reason, that made
him feel warm and happy. Maybe he just liked people that enjoyed winding him up. “It’s a
combination of the two. I don’t think he is morally opposed to lying, he’s just not very good
at it. But at the same time, his instinct is towards the truth. Sometimes in ways that are really
uncomfortable for both of us. Stuff just seems to fall out his mouth without his permission.”
He grinned at her and was gratified to see the answering curl of her lips. “Which brings me to
the reason I like Zuko number two. He is one of the funniest people I have ever met. Not on
purpose, mind you. His actual attempts at jokes are dreadful. But he is hilarious, trust me.”

Suki looked sceptical, but Sokka was fairly sure Zuko would not last until sundown without
doing or saying something ridiculous, and then she would understand.

“And the third?” she asked

He was suddenly unsure of what to say. He thought about feeling safe, and warm, and known.
About feeling afraid and continuing forward anyway. There were a lot of feelings. Too many
and too personal to share. He should just choose something, make it up, but he couldn’t. “I
can’t explain the last one,” he said. “I don’t have the words. I just can’t.”

“It’s okay.” She gave him a small shrug. “Unless he does something I think is a threat, I’ll
keep my mouth closed around your secrets.” She pointed a finger at him like a warning. “But
he still owes me. He can either make it up to me somehow, or I can take it out of his hide, like
I did yours.” The smile turned into a grin. It looked a little feral, and Sokka was worryingly
unsure if she was joking or not. If she challenged Zuko to a duel, he would fight her. And he
would probably enjoy every second. It would be an awesome battle, but neither of them
would yield, someone would get hurt and Sokka would have anxiety for days. So that was a
thing that needed to be avoided.

They could hear the camp before they could see it. “Zuli, stop!” Shen’s voice said, a little
frazzled sounding.
Then there was some grunting and a little snarling, easily identified as Zuko.

“Calm down!” Shen again, distinctly muffled this time. Sokka sighed. Of course he spent half
an hour convincing Suki that Zuko was on their side, and then they came back to him acting
unhinged.

There were two pots of salve, some strips of cloth and perhaps items to be used as splints laid
out on the floor, it looked like they had been kicked about in the scuffle that was clearly still
in progress. Zuko seemed to be trying to forcefully wrestle Shen’s shirt off, while the man
himself seemed to have become tangled in it, the material lodged somewhere over his head.
With it apparently stuck, the two were at an impasse. Zuko looked apocalyptically angry, and
Sokka could feel his heart swell up with exasperated affection at the snarly rage face he was
making.

But then he realised why he was so upset, and the warm feeling shrivelled and dried up in his
chest. What Sokka could see of Shen’s bare underarms were covered in familiar looking
burns, and his right nipple was nothing but scabs, standing out ugly and red on skin that was
mottled blue and yellow with bruises.

The burns had that same uniform look to the ones under the wrappings on his own arms, and
Sokka felt cold spread through his body. Zuko yanked the shirt the rest of the way off,
leaving Shen scowling up at him with his hair sticking up in all directions.

Zuko glared right back down at him, panting with fury. “Who did this?” he demanded. He
was visibly shaking with anger and Sokka was aware they were teetering close to disaster. An
emotional explosion could come with fire at this level of rage. But Sokka couldn’t actually
force himself to do anything, couldn’t quite drag his eyes away from the burns. Was that just
how they did it in the Fire Nation? Was it a standard method of torture, or was it the way he
did it?

Shen said nothing, his face going from annoyed to carefully blank.

“Kazuma?” Zuko snarled at him. “He told me he hadn’t hurt you.” His voice wavered, just a
little, mouth pulling down unhappily. “I let him live.”

“It wasn’t Kazuma,” Shen said gently. “He was decent to us. Letting him live was not
something to feel bad about.”

Sokka almost wished he could spare a moment from his spiralling thoughts to poke fun at
Shen over what Suki had told him, it might ease some of the weirdness of his earlier
reactions, but he couldn’t bring himself to. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the injuries.
He could smell burnt flesh, feel the heat on his own skin.

“It was Ro,” Sokka said. Because he was sure that it was.

Zuko looked stricken, flinching with the name. Shen’s lips pressed together into a thin line,
clearly considering the best way to deal with this with the least fallout, but he didn’t deny it.

Sokka could feel bile in his throat. Could feel his arms itch and burn.
He turned away and sank down in the dirt.

“Sokka? Sokka, are you okay?” Suki, her voice full of concern.

But even though she was here, her hand on his shoulder, she wasn’t. And his skin was cold,
bare and pebbling in the hold of the dreadful metal boat. The only point of contact was Ro’s
warm hand holding his arm to the table while his other hand heated with fire that would lick
against Sokka’s skin until it melted. His breath started to come in gasps, stuck somewhere
deep in his chest, until he felt hot hands on his face. He made a horrible squealing noise, like
a scared pig-chicken, but he was too afraid to even feel shame.

“You’re safe, Sokka. We’re safe. Both of us. Follow my breathing.” His face was tucked
against something warm. Zuko smell, sweaty and safe.

“Oh, fuck,” Sokka said. The now swimming back from the then.

“We’re safe. Both safe,” Zuko’s low voice was quiet and steady. He was holding Sokka tight.
It made him feel secure, protected, like it did when they slept. “Okay? You back?” Zuko
asked, muttered against the skin of his ear, where their heads were pushed together.

Sokka nodded, reality rushing in with a tide of shame. He’d had a reliving, again. He knew
that. But it had been in front of Suki. Shen too, but he had seen the last one. At least he hadn’t
puked this time. And he hadn’t sucked Zuko into it, either. Instead, his friend was holding
him, warm and solid and in control. He tilted Sokka’s face up with rough hands, so he could
examine it carefully.

“Sokka.”

“I’m okay. Fuck. Sorry, sorry.” He wished that hadn’t happened, him falling apart was all
they needed.

“It’s fine, Sokka,” Shen’s voice. He came into view and squatted down beside them, but
didn’t touch him. “You back with us? It’s disorientating, and it can linger a bit, so tell us what
you need if you feel you might slip back in, okay? I’ve been there myself. I know what it’s
like.”

That made him feel a little better, right until he remembered he had flipped out at the sight of
Shen’s injuries. They weren’t even his own hurts, he had no right to react so stupidly. He felt
guilty for it. “When will it stop?” he asked, in a tiny, almost unrecognisable voice that
sounded weird even to his own ears.

“Depends. But it does get better, with time and comfort. It can get better. For now, just stay
sitting for a bit until you think you’ve got a handle on it.”

He nodded and tucked his face back into the crock of Zuko’s neck. Not only because he
didn’t want to look at Suki, but not not because of that, either.

They sat quiet for a bit. Sokka could hear Suki and Shen talking in low voices. From what he
could pick up it was mostly about the possibility of pursuit, and what direction they should be
heading in. It was nothing to do with his reliving, but the horrible embarrassment was
lingering long after the physical symptoms had faded, and he pushed away from Zuko and sat
back, trying to sort out his emotions a little.

“We should scout the area,” Zuko said. He was wobbling where he sat, the adrenaline having
finally crashed. He looked exhausted. They all did.

“I’ll do it,” Sokka said. As tired as he was, he wasn’t sure he wanted to sleep yet. Wasn’t
quite ready to shut his eyes, to let his horrors bleed into his dreams. And with that in mind, he
thought it might help him regain his equilibrium if he at least attempted to do something
useful.

It seemed like a good idea, until he pulled himself up and staggered to his feet, looking down
at Zuko where he was still slumped in the dirt, and realised he was going to have to leave the
three of them alone together. Unsupervised.

But he’d offered, there was no help for it. He looked at Suki beseechingly, and she smiled at
him, warm with affection, and with concern still lurking in her gaze. Okay. He would trust
her to have his back and not not start a fight with Zuko, or blurt out their secrets.

“Are you sure, Sokka?” Shen asked. “I could-”

“No!” Zuko snapped. He chucked some twigs and dirt at him in his agitation, presumably all
he could reach while still sitting on the floor. “You look half dead. Stay where you are. I’m
patching you up.”

Shen looked like he would rather do literally anything else, but then sighed, resigned.

Sokka was pleased the other two didn’t argue with him. He thought it meant they trusted him
to handle himself despite his having a meltdown. And he was hoping Shen would be all
bandaged up when he got back, so he would be spared any repeat performances of the
reliving. Because frankly, he did not want that experience again.

He slipped into the woods and headed back towards the mountain path they had travelled up.
He could see no sign of pursuit, which was a little confusing. They were so close to capturing
the Blue Spirit and yet they let him get away? They let prisoners escape? Perhaps the blasting
jelly had done more damage that Sokka had anticipated—which could only be a good thing.

He collected some berries, pleased that the little book he had got from the village had taught
him what was safe to eat. But the memory of that reminded him Ro had murdered the man
who had sold it to him, along with all the other innocent people. The thought made the faint
smell of burnt flesh linger in his nose, and he regretted his decision to leave the others to
scout. If he went under, he would be alone and vulnerable.

So he focused.

He thought about feeling safe and warm and being held far too tightly to be comfortable,
while he steadied his breathing, using one of Zuko’s meditations, until the phantom
sensations passed.
Feeling a little steadier, he made his way back along the path a while, until he could see the
fort far below. There was still smoke rising from it, but there was still no sign of soldiers
beyond its walls. Satisfied, he headed back to the others.

Sokka made his way back to the camp carefully, feeling a mix of relief and pride at having
kept himself free of falling into another reliving. He approached quietly, using his skill as a
hunter to move through the woods silently. He seemed to be able to do sneaky in this context.
Why couldn’t he do it when creeping through fortresses or trying to stalk people that were
not his friends? Annoying. But it made him wonder, was it a mindset difference? He had been
hunting with his father since he was a boy, he had still been a little clumsy, but he could do it.
He had killed those birds a few days ago. But then he had fallen in a ditch not twelve hours
later while trying to sneak. Perhaps he needed to change how he thought about what he was
doing. Maybe that would make a difference.

As he ghosted close to the edge of the camp, he could hear his friends, before he could see
them. They seemed to be having a disagreement from the slightly raised voices and his chest
tightened with anxiety.

“You’re a butcher!” Suki said, her voice a low growl.

Sokka had a moment of terror that things had gone very wrong in the twenty or so minutes he
had been scouting.

“Stop complaining,” Zuko replied. He sounded annoyed rather than upset or stressed.

“Ow! You’re terrible at this!”

Oh. He was probably tending to her injuries. Something Sokka had forgotten to check in with
her about. His head had been so full of everything else, of Zuko and then of so many varieties
of fear, he had somehow forgotten to ask if she was hurt. It filled him with another round of
horrible squirmy shame, and he had to hang back a moment to breathe through it.

He moved closer, right to the edge of their camp. He could see Shen first, still shirtless, but
thankfully with bandages wrapped around his chest and arms. Probably most of their spares,
actually. He was sitting very straight with his back to the camp, and presumably the other
two, who were out of Sokka’s line of sight.

“Shen, save me from this heavy-handed butchery,” Suki demanded from somewhere to
Sokka’s right, still obscured by the foliage.

“Stop whining. I’m almost done,” Zuko groused.

“Shen! Stop being a coward.” Suki sounded amused now.

“I’m not getting involved.” Shen held up his hands, still facing away from them.
“What’s wrong with you?” Zuko snapped at him, very aggressive. It was clear Shen had still
not been forgiven for getting hurt or hiding it.

“I think he’s afraid of my boobs,” Suki said.

Which brought Sokka up short, just as he was about to push through the last of the shrubs and
step into view. Her boobs? What were her boobs doing?

“I’m not afraid,” Shen’s voice was hilariously indignant. “It’s just inappropriate.”

There was a long moment of silence.

Zuko gave one of his loud nasally sighs. “I’m not an idiot,” he started slowly. “I know I miss
things, and I don’t always understand people, but I can not come up with an explanation for
this one. Why?”

“Ow! Can you please be a little softer with your hands?”

“Sorry.” He didn’t sound sorry at all.

Suki grunted again. “It’s improper for him to look at me unclothed. It’s improper for you too,
doubly so.”

“You’re not unclothed, though. You have wrappings across your breasts, and pants on.”

“Partly clothed, then.”

There was another moment of silence while Zuko thought about that. “In some
circumstances, sure,” he said at last, clearly bemused. “But we fought together. This is
helping with injuries.”

Like that made any difference. Actually, perhaps it did for him. Things seemed to fit into
compartments in his mind, like with the bathing. Nudity in front of Sokka was completely
acceptable, to the point it happened so often that Sokka hardly even noticed it anymore. But
anyone else and he would fall all over himself to get clothes on. Like that one time Bato had
barged in without announcing himself to give them one of Panuk’s horrible tonics to drink
and Zuko had been so frantic to get his pants on he had stuck both legs in one hole and fallen
over. Sokka had almost died, he had laughed so much.

“Can you just get on with it and stop talking?” Shen asked. His words were slurring a little,
and Sokka’s amusement dimmed.

“I am!” Zuko snapped at him, irate.

He stepped back into the camp and Shen twitched a little at his sudden appearance, another
bad sign, in Sokka’s opinion, as he had not been quiet for that last approach, just in case Zuko
got jumpy and accidentally flambéed him. “There’s no pursuit. I don’t know why, but they
haven’t sent anyone after us,” Sokka said. Trying very, very hard to keep his eyes on Suki’s
face. “Even if they do, it will take at least half a day to clear the path, so we should try to
catch some sleep.” His gaze kept slip-sliding to places where it shouldn’t, and he could feel
his cheeks heating a little.

Zuko seemed to have wrestled her between his legs, the same way he did to Sokka when he
shaved his head. He was tending some injury to her back, face a big angry scowl as he
aggressively applied some of the medicinal goop from the pots.

“Hey, Sokka,” Suki said. She looked amused.

Sokka’s eyes slipped down to her undergarments again. It wasn’t like she was naked. He had
seen his sister similarly attired and had never batted an eye. But somehow, the sight of Suki
sitting like that, part clothed while Zuko snarled at her back and attacked it with salve just did
some things to him. He abruptly abandoned his plan to be cool and unbothered and instead
went and sat next to Shen, who looked mostly tired and annoyed rather than flustered now he
could see his face, which made Sokka feel a little embarrassed for his own cowardice. The
sound of both Zuko and Suki snorting at him didn't help matters. It made him regret hoping
they would bond.

He stuck his legs out in front of him, leaning back on his hands and ignoring the far too
amused looks Shen was sending him. He was surprised that Suki had allowed Zuko to tend
her injuries. But then, what were the options? He wondered suddenly if it had been Zuko’s
reaction to his reliving. Sokka had been out of it at the time, but he had snapped back to
reality in Zuko’s arms, while his friend talked him through it. He suspected he didn’t actually
have to come up with words to describe the third reason he liked Zuko. She had already seen
it in action.

“Don’t suppose you have any food packed away on that big evil bird of yours?” Shen asked.

“Yeah, we have some dried stuff. A fire probably isn’t a good idea, but we have rice too, for
when we’re far enough away from the fort.”

Shen made a face, and Sokka gave him a little nudge with an elbow. “Prison food didn’t
agree with you?”

“Nope.”

“Well, I would have done anything for rice. We only got some awful hardtack. Still not sure
what it was made of, but it could break a tooth.” Sokka shuddered at the memory.

“No wonder the pair of you looked so starved.”

Sokka grunted. He could feel that food anxiety feeling clawing at him again. Like he was
suddenly so hungry he might just be driven to fight and kill for it. His stomach squirmed
uncomfortably. Today really wasn’t his day. “I’ll dig out what we have. Jerky, some nuts and
some berries I found that are okay to eat.”

“Sounds good, Sokka.”

They ate quickly, and the atmosphere was…tense. But not intolerably so.

“What now?” Sokka asked. Keeping one eye on Suki and the other on Zuko. They seemed to
be sending each other cautious, challenging and not very subtle glances, but as long as they
didn’t physically fight, it was fine. Sokka didn’t have the energy to break up a brawl. And
they could both probably pummel him.

“I’m going after my men,” Shen said, the words decisive, but still with a little slur. Sokka
really hoped it was exhaustion and not sickness. He had already had to deal with that once,
and that was more than enough. “The ones that were taken,” Shen continued. He took a deep
breath and visibly steeled himself. “Did any escape?”

Sokka had been dreading that question. He wasn’t sure how to tell someone something like
that gently. How did you sugarcoat something so awful?

But Zuko opted for his own brand of blunt truth, perhaps spurred on by his own turbulent
feelings about what had happened to the 54th. “They’re dead,” he said, his voice low but
hard. “None survived. Yuxuan died. They slit his throat where he lay and we buried him. He
shouldn’t have died like that.” The short statements would have sounded almost detached
except for the obvious distress in his voice and the way he stared intently at the scrubby
forest floor. It was brutal, and not the way Sokka would have done it—but then, he didn’t
know how you broke that kind of news kindly.

Shen nodded and turned away, hiding whatever was on his face. But his feelings were clear
from the set of his shoulders and the erratic way he was breathing, struggling for control over
himself. Zuko clearly wanted to offer comfort, his hand rising and hovering in the air. Like he
wanted to reach for Shen but couldn’t quite manage it, like he didn’t know how to bridge that
gap. If it was Sokka in need of comfort, Zuko would know, but it had been a slow process
learning that. First with small touches and awkward words, then with more understanding.
But with Shen, the relationship was different, and he didn’t seem to be as sure of the rules
between them. Not to mention, he had to keep physical contact to a minimum, especially
when he was distressed—his body temperature rose too much for subtlety when his emotions
were high.

Instead, it was Suki who offered comfort with a soft, fleeting touch to his shoulder. “I’m
sorry, Shen,” she said. Gentle but firm, without obvious pity. It was probably what he needed.

It took a few moments for him to reply. “Yeah, me too,” he said at last. He took some slow
breaths. “I fucking hate them,” he snarled.

Zuko flinched, eyes still on the ground and Suki shot Sokka a look over the top of his head,
one of understanding, Sokka thought, and perhaps a little sympathy for the position they had
ended up in.

“Do you...” Shen started, but then trailed off. “Never mind. It changes nothing. I need to
rescue the survivors. I need to try.” he sounded like he had regained control. Sokka didn’t
understand how he did that, his own feelings were so wild and impossible to tame these days.

“Let’s discuss plans tomorrow,” Suki said quietly. “I think we may find we’re both heading in
the same direction, with the same intent.”

“Yeah,” Shen agreed, his wide shoulders were still hunched in grief, but his face was calm as
he turned back to them.

Zuko got up and joined Sokka, sitting close enough their shoulders brushed. “You sleep, I’ll
keep watch,” he said. He sounded like he was barely conscious, and Sokka elbowed him
hard. Even his responding snarl lacked bite.

“You need sleep, same as me,” Sokka told him sternly. “I don’t think it will be good for any
of us to stay awake all night.” He paused and glanced up at the midday sun. “Um, day,
whatever. We should divide the watch.”

Suki sat on the other side of him, leaning back on her hands. “I’m still smarting from this
arsehole’s attempt at patching me up. I’ll go first. Then I’ll wake you, Sokka. And Zu…li can
take the final. Deal?”

“What about me?” Shen asked. His voice had gone back to familiar annoyance, although his
heartache was still lingering behind his eyes and in the set of his body as he attempted to
huddle under his blanket.

“You,” Suki said in a stern voice. “Are teetering on the edge of getting sick. You need to
rest.”

“I’m not going to let you kids all take a watch while I sleep,” Shen retorted, eyes narrowing.

“What you going to do about it?” Suki shot back. “Stay awake out of spite?”

His mouth opened, but there was no reply immediately forthcoming, so Suki rolled right over
him. “Sleep. For our sakes—lugging you around with us is going to be very difficult if you
get a fever, there’s a lot of you, even with that fat ostrich horse. You can always take a double
watch tomorrow to make up for it.”

“She’s not fat,” Zuko protested, arguing only about the most important things. His voice was
a little heavy with approaching sleep, even though he was still in a mostly upright position.
“She’s just broad. Round and soft.” He made a little gesture with his hands, indicating the
soft roundness of a dumpling. It would have been cute if he had not been talking about the
evil, biting, beast who was eyeing them with sinister intent from across the clearing.

“Uh huh,” Suki said.

“Well...” Sokka began, not actually sure if he was going to be defending Dumpling’s honour
or not.

“Go to sleep,” Suki told him. “Sooner you sleep, sooner it’s my turn.”
Taking her words to heart, Zuko started shoving at Sokka, tugging him down to the ground
and curling around him. He tucked one arm across Sokka’s chest, holding him tight enough
to make him gasp, and used his shoulder as a pillow. It was a fairly normal sleeping position
for them in their tent. But no, apparently they were going to do this where people could see.

Good. Okay. Sokka wasn’t quite sure how to deal with that, or how he felt about it. But he
was perhaps a little too tired to care. Besides, it was cold, and Shen had their blanket. Zuko’s
natural warmth felt amazing, everyone else was missing out.

Suki’s raised eyebrow made him flush a little, but warmth and comfort were more important.
Zuko’s soft breath evened out almost immediately, the events of the past twenty-four hours
tugging him under with ease.

Sokka let himself start to drift.

“Sokka?” Suki asked, very quiet. “What happened to you, to both of you, it was bad, wasn’t
it? Really bad?”

“Yeah,” Sokka said, just as quiet. He tugged Zuko a little firmer against him. “Yeah it was.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, Me too.”

Sokka woke as Zuko pinched him with hard, mean fingers, because he was a bastard.

“Ow! No need for that! I’m awake!”

“We were one step from dumping water on your head, Sokka,” Suki said with false cheer.

“We need to get moving,” Zuko growled, glaring.

“I’m up, I’m awake.” Sokka got to his feet, a little wobbly with the residue of sleep, and
stretched. The camp was mostly packed away. Zuko was scowling. He seemed even more
furious this morning. Sokka wondered if he was embarrassed about the way they had slept
together. If his desire for comfort and rest had overridden his pride, and he had woken and
felt awkward or shamed by his own neediness. Like the day after the battle at the camp,
Sokka had slept in Zuko’s arms in his father’s tent, right next to his bed. His dad had said
nothing, but Zuko had been particularly grumpy and aggressive that day. Although that might
have just been dealing with Huang.

Sokka glanced at the others. Suki looked alright, perhaps a little worn and thoughtful, but
Shen still looked kind of shit. Rest had not seemed to have improved matters much, but they
had only had a few hours, so it could still be exhaustion. Sokka was a practical person, not
known for his optimism. That was Katara’s job, and Aang’s, but he was determined that Shen
would recover without falling ill. They just had to get far enough away they could stop for a
little longer and sort out what needed to be done to prevent it.
They decided to head towards the river. The sound of it crashing its way down the mountain
was loud and fierce. The weather was sharp but cold this high up, and the path wasn’t an easy
one, it was hard to actually get close to the water itself, although the sound of it was easy
enough to follow.

They had travelled through the night as much as they could, keeping the pace slow and only
moving when the moon was bright. Progress was limited, and they had been forced to
backtrack more than once. The chance to rest through the darkest parts of the night, when it
would have been too foolish to press on, had offered a few scattered hours of extra sleep.

“Perhaps we should leave the trail and head into the woods, try to find the river again,” Shen
said, squinting up at the sky, which was lightening through the trees.

“Because that worked so well last time,” Zuko snapped at him, with real bite in his tone.

“It’s hardly my fault the bird couldn’t get over the rocks in the dark.”

“Then why suggest it?” Zuko pet Dumpling’s flank as though he was reassuring her he would
fight her corner.

“Because it’s the sensible thing to do,” Shen said, still attempting to use logic.

“Didn’t work though, did it?” Zuko was in full abrasive prince mode. In a strange way, Sokka
had kind of missed it. He didn’t think Shen was appreciating it as much, though.

“No, but we wouldn’t have known that unless we tried! I have never been here before, we
have no map. Unless you have a better idea?” Shen looked frustrated and a little confused. He
had clearly never encountered Zuko in this kind of aggressively foul mood before. Sokka,
who was used to his friends’ temperament, knew exactly what it was. Shen getting hurt had
frightened him. Shen hiding his injuries and upset him. The causal intimacy from their earlier
sleep being on display to others had disconcerted him. The result was this biting, insufferable,
aggravating behaviour.

“You’re the one with the plan,” Zuko’s tone made it sound like the plans in question were
made of ostrich horse shit.

“Can you stop?” Shen snapped. While his temper had not risen to Zuko levels, it was clearly
getting the better of him. From the vaguely predatory look on Zuko’s face, that was exactly
what he wanted.

Suki’s eyes were narrowed as she watched from where she was walking abreast of Sokka.
“Aww, Shen, are you being bullied by a sixteen-year-old?” she asked with friendly mockery.
“Do you want me to tell him off for you?”

It was exactly the right thing to say. Both Shen and Zuko looked supremely offended, and it
defused the growing tension from Shen, and directed Zuko’s ire towards Suki for a moment,
giving the man time to breathe. It was also extremely funny, and Sokka cackled at the
annoyed expressions on their faces.

Shen clearly recognised the deflection, and his lip curled up into his usual lopsided smile.
“Oh, I hate this. I’m putting you back in jail,” he told Suki.

Suki grinned. “I would like to see you try.”

Zuko’s expression had turned into an annoyed pout as he scowled at Sokka’s laughter. Sokka
slung an arm around his shoulders, tugging him forward a little. “Come on, let’s scout the
area. I’m sure we will hit the river this time.”

Zuko grumbled at him, but allowed himself to be distracted.

As the day headed towards late afternoon, Sokka started to feel weird, almost itchy. He
wasn’t sure what it was, but he noticed he wasn’t alone in starting to feel tense. He could see
it in the line of Suki’s shoulders, and the way Zuko’s angry stomping had become softer,
more of a prowl. Shen might have been a little woozy, but he also seemed to have picked up
something was wrong.

It felt like it did when you stalked the same game as a predator by accident, and the beast
took a moment to consider if you were competition, or perhaps an easier meal.

Sokka dropped back to where Shen was taking his turn leading Dumpling and being bitten at
regular intervals for his trouble. Suki had flat out refused to take a second round, as the bird
had taken a vicious sort of delight in picking on her. “Shen,” Sokka said, as quiet as he could.
“Are we being followed?”

“I think so.” Shen’s eyes were on the forest around them, all signs of sickness pushed aside
and replaced by intense focus.

“I thought it would have taken them longer.”

“Me too. Perhaps there was another way around the rockfall. Maybe they took a different
path. Let’s head for the river again, perhaps we will have better luck this time. If we can
follow it to lower ground and cross, we can lose them that way.”

Ahead of them, Suki nodded, and increased the pace a little.

They picked their way over towards the sound of the river, loud and energetic as it crashed its
way down the mountain. They had better luck this time, finally getting around the rocks to
the river itself. There were stretches of fast moving rapids, followed by falls, the spray
forming rainbows out over the water, bright and beautiful, and completely impassable.

“Shit,” Shen said as they reached the lip of the bank. They were too high, the rushing
waterfall that had drawn them by sound would be too dangerous to cross near. They had to
get lower. “We’re going to have to make our way down the bank. It’s not going to be easy
with Dumpling.”

“She’ll make it,” Zuko said, determined.

She wasn’t happy about it, to the extent she even bit Zuko in her agitation, but she did slide
down the muddy embankment with some coaxing and a shove from Shen. She yelled at him
for the indignity, hissing almost as loud as the water and ruffling her feathers under the saddle
bags.

They paused to let her regain her composure before they were forced to bully her further
down the bank. The next one looked like it might be easier. Sokka hoped so, they were still
high enough up that a fall could be disastrous, and he had been concerned Dumpling might
knock one of them right into the drink.

Zuko moved to the edge, looking down over the water as it crashed into the pool below. “We
need to get a few levels lower. We might be okay from this height, but I wouldn’t want to risk
Dumpling making the jump,” he said, sort of echoing Sokka’s thoughts, but also apparently
considering leaping to their deaths over a waterfall, because of course he was.

“Like you could get her over the edge,” Suki said.

“I could get her over the edge if I needed to. I just don’t think I should.”

“And how would you do that? Ask her nicely to leap into the bubbling death water?”

“Guys, can we not?” Sokka tried. They were stressed and tension was high with the fear of
pursuit, but why had they chosen this to argue over? It was so painfully dumb.

“She likes me, I could-”

“You could what?”

Something brushed Sokka’s face, fast and confusing. He jumped, biting off a yell. It took him
a moment to register what it had been.

An arrow, his brain informed him coolly, as the rest of him struggled to work out what to do.
He turned to look up in the direction it had come, rather than running, like a sensible person
would. He was greeted with the sight of Ro, still high above them on the pass. Despite the
distance, there was still a visible smile on his face.

Part of Sokka shut down, while the rest was suddenly triggered into overdrive. The visceral
fear that shot through him seized his muscles, at the same time that adrenaline surged in his
body like a storm. He froze, like a rabbit-dear in a hunter’s sights.

Zuko reacted first, his eyes widening before he turned towards Sokka, one hand outstretched.
“Sokka!” he said, his voice a little high with his own panic.

Then things happened both in slow motion, like Sokka was watching from outside himself,
and also at the same time so quick he could barely react. There was another fast, sharp breeze
 of an arrow, the sound of impact and warm wet on Sokka’s face as Zuko went backwards
over the edge of the high bank and into the water below.

He’d been hit.

The arrow had hit him in the head as he turned. His blood was on Sokka’s face and Zuko was
in the river.

Sokka just stood, too stunned to even react.

Suki grabbed him and pulled him in and down, tugging him with one hand and Dumpling’s
reins with the other.

“Head lower,” Shen said, urgent and intense. “I will meet you down stream. Just keep going.”

Sokka watched, vaguely stupefied, as Shen dove into the river after Zuko. He should be
doing that, but the thought of going into the water was terrifying. Staying here was terrifying,
moving was impossible. Ro was terrifying.

“Sokka! Come on, come on,” Suki said, tugging on his arm. He could feel the rough calluses
on her fingers, hear her voice, but his mind seemed to have just stopped.

“Run, little Water Rat,” Ro’s voice carried over the sound of the water beating against the
rock face. “Run while you can.”

Finally, his feet unstuck from the floor and Sokka ran.

Chapter End Notes

Sorry! 😬
Please also Check out this awesome bit of art <3

Art By musdswo

Seeing bits of the fic illustrated is the most amazing thing, it really blows my mind!
Next Chapter: Some running, some hiding. Suki thinks Sokka is a moron (she might be
right in this instance) and more important discussions are had. Also a very important
choice is made, despite the potential consequences.
 Chapter 19
Chapter Summary

“Can you please stop shooting down every hopeful thing I say? I’m trying to make you
feel better.”

Chapter Notes

Remember that one chapter that didn’t have any warnings? Yeah me too. Lol. Anyway,
WARNINGS: mention and (verbal) threat of non-con, thoughts of suicide, nonsexual
(and semi-consensual) nudity, blood, injury, bit of mild gore, vomit, fighting,
descriptions of burns, burning and murder. Also cuddling! Lot’s of cuddling!

If I have missed any, let me know!

Also some poetic licence in regards to medical stuff

Many thanks to my beta burkesl17, who has managed to wrangle my dyslexic nonsense.
All mistakes are my own.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Sokka tumbled down another muddy bank, landing with a thump and then rolling out of the
way as Dumpling came sliding down it, vicious beak ready to skewer him. She was furious,
but seemed to have picked up on their panic, and with some encouragement, was at least
escaping with them. He had been afraid they were going to have to leave her if she balked,
and he didn’t want to have to explain that one to Zuko.

Fuck, Zuko. He had to breathe through a wave of dizzy panic, just thinking about the
possibility he was dead. Dumpling head-butted him, but didn’t savage him like she clearly
wanted to. He thought maybe she was worried, too. Or maybe she was just fed up with being
shoved down muddy, rocky cliffs.

Suki slid down with none of her usual grace, landing butt first in the dirt, and looking a little
wild-eyed. She had been the one to shove Dumpling down that last bit. “I thought she was
going to crush you!” she said.

“I moved.” Sokka couldn’t really gain enough control over his emotions to be anything but
blunt. There was still a way to go before they hit the long smoother patch of river, and there
were so many falls. Both Zuko and Shen must have gone over them.
He breathed, tried to steady himself.

Ro’s mocking voice floated down from above them again. “Better run faster, little rat.”

Sokka could see his cruel smile in his mind’s eye, it was like a nightmare come to life. They
couldn’t see him, but he was clearly still coming after them. Sokka wasn’t sure how much of
a lead they had, the water crashing and bubbling and at the rocks made the sound carry
strangely.

“I’ll make it last,” Ro called again. “I’ll give the girl to my men, make you watch this time.”

Sokka retched, feeling fear so great that it froze him in place. How could he protect Suki if he
couldn’t even move because he was so scared?

In front of him, Suki was pale and frightened, clearly understanding the seriousness of those
threats. But she was also determined and, like before, she reached for him and pulled. “Keep
going,” she insisted. Although there was genuine terror in her eyes, her voice didn’t wavier.

Sokka unstuck his feet again and followed her down the next bank. He realised his fingers
were clenched on the knife Zuko had given him. He would fight if they caught up, he would
fight with everything he had. But if it looked like they would take him, he would use it on
himself. Suki had to make her own choice, but he had made his. He would rather die by his
own hand than be captured by that man. Ro wasn’t going to take him back to Zhao, he would
torture him to death at his leisure. There was no one here to stop him. If Zuko was dead, it
would be a mercy compared to what Ro would do to him. Sokka knew the man would prefer
to take his time, but killing Zuko was more important than having fun with him. Sokka didn’t
have that luxury.

They headed down the next bank. Sokka’s skin stung from scratches as branches from over
hanging plants that caught at him, but it felt distant, like the memory of a sensation. Suki had
leaves and twigs tangled in her hair. It should have been funny. Earlier today he would have
teased her, but now there was no room for anything but fear.

“Do your burns itch, little rat?” Ro’s voice floated down to them again, and as before it sent a
bolt of panic through him. “Do you think of me when they do?” His voice sounded further
away. Perhaps they were making ground.

Suki wiped sweat out of her eyes as they assessed the best way down the next slope. “At least
their beasts can’t get down these banks,” she said with more confidence than Sokka felt.
“They’ll have to leave them, or split up and take them back down the path to flatter ground.”

Sokka nodded, testing out a foothold between the bank and an enterprising young sapling.
The urge to just run was overwhelming, the landscape not allowing them to made his muscles
want to seize again.

“Once we get down, Dumpling will give us the advantage,” Suki continued, dropping into a
squat to watch his progress.
Sokka wished Zuko could hear the compliment. But thinking about him just stopped his brain
working. On one hand, he refused to accept that he could be dead. It just didn’t seem
possible. Zuko was a survivor. Nothing kept him down. But on the other, was creeping fear
and horror.

What if it had killed him? What if Shen was chasing a corpse? And then that thought led to
more anxiety; Shen was sick and injured. What if he had died in the river too? The water was
fast and turbulent, even at full strength a man could be lost to it. Sokka wobbled a little and
forcibly pushed the questions from his mind. Get down, protect Suki, and save himself. He
had to focus on that, not stuff he had no control over.

By the time they reached the bottom where the water became a longer stretch of river, still
fast moving, but with no rocks and falls, Sokka’s legs were burning, even through the
adrenaline that had not let up since the first moment he had realised what was happening.
Suki looked winded too, hunched over to catch her breath. She looked up at him, steely and
determined. “What now? Should we continue to follow the water?” She straightened and
turned to look at it as it stretched in front of them. “If there’s a chance they made it, we
should follow,” she continued, answering her own question.

They began at a quick pace, both climbing into Dumpling’s saddle, with Suki guiding her
while Sokka kept one eye behind them, and one on the river, watching for any sign of their
friends. Ro had fallen silent, and he had yet to appear after that first terrifying moment.
Perhaps he had been higher up than it had first seemed, or trying to transverse the slopes in
armour was a lot harder than expected.

The ground was rockier here, but the river was narrower. Sokka pulled up Dumpling and
squinted at the terrain.

“Do you think we should cross?” Suki asked.

In front of them was a bend that brought them close to the mountain again. It would obscure
the view of them, at least a little. Sokka eyed the banks on both sides, chewing his lip as he
thought. Stopping even for a moment felt like too long, like he could physically feel their
head start slipping away. The opposite bank was rocky, but the vegetation was taller,
overhanging branches leading into an inviting forest area.

“No. We stay on this side,” Sokka said, making a decision. “Take Dumpling into the water,
make sure she goes in at the muddiest point.” Suki nodded and steered the bird into the river.
Dumpling hissed at the water tugging at her rough, scaly ankles.

“How far?” Suki asked, grunting a little as the bird protested against the river.

“A little further down,” Sokka said. They needed to account for the current carrying them
downstream before they could get out on the opposite bank. “Here.” Sokka slid off into the
water, staggering a little at the unexpected pull of it, and the unpleasant feeling of liquid
soaking into his boots. He pulled free his boomerang and focused on the wind, letting years
of practice guide him. Then he figured the trajectory, carefully accounting for the breeze. It
was so familiar, a blessed feeling of calm fell over him as he threw. The beautiful curve of the
boomerang glinted in the sun as it flew, swift and true, just hitting the branches on the
opposite bank, causing a small smattering of leaves to fall. He caught it on its return and
threw again a little harder, this time cracking a few of the bigger branches. Just enough to
make it look like a big, angry animal had waded out of the fast-moving river.

“Clever,” Suki said.

“Not if they see us. Let’s move quickly.” Sokka scrambled back onto Dumpling, as Suki
steered her forward through the shallow, fast moving water near the bank, obscuring any
tracks but the ones leading into the river.

Sokka kept looking over his shoulder all the way to the bend, after which they were hidden
from view, but so was any sign of pursuit. Not being able to see behind them made him feel
itchy and like the panic was gnawing at his heels. Spirits, he hoped Ro was actually tracking
them and would follow the false trail rather than just assuming they were following the river.

As they moved further onwards, Sokka calmed enough to feel the shock and the fear. He
clutched Suki as she guided Dumpling out of the water and back onto the bank. Dumpling
hissed again, this time at the rocks under her feet, although Sokka suspected it was relief at
being out of the water rather than anger. They stopped for a moment to watch the river as it
thundered past. It had picked up speed, and the water was white and explosive as it skimmed
over submerged rocks. To Sokka, it seemed increasingly unlikely they were going to find
their friends alive.

He took a deep breath, and another, trying to control his feelings.

“Okay?” Suki asked, tilting her head slightly so she could see him out of the corner of her
eye. Sokka realised there were tears on her cheeks, the wet trails making tracks through the
dirt.

“Are you okay?” He didn’t know why the sight of her crying was so shocking. Perhaps
because she inhabited the category of ‘warrior’ in his mind, and warriors didn’t cry. Not like
he did. He felt he had done nothing but weep since he had been captured. Pointless, shameful
tears.

“Yeah. I’m alright,” Suki told him, turning back to face forward. “Just scared. Too many
feelings, you know?”

He did. And her simple acceptance of those emotions made his own well up faster and more
torrid than the river rushing past. “I won’t let them take me alive,” he said. Because she
should know that.

“Surely where there’s life, there’s hope.”

Sokka shook his head so violently he nearly toppled out of the saddle. “No, fuck that. I’m not
going through it again. I’m not giving him the satisfaction of hearing me scream, and I’m not
watching him hurt anyone else. I won’t. He took away everything from us, but he’s not taking
that choice from me.”

“I understand,” she said gently.

He didn’t think she did, not really, not right down to the gut level, but she at least accepted
how he felt. He could appreciate that.

“They might be okay,” Suki said, nudging Dumpling back into a walk.

“He got hit in the head, Suki.” Sokka could still feel the dried blood on his face, now mixed
with tears and fresh water spray from the river.

“He was moving, it might have been a glancing blow.”

“Even if it was, he went in the river, was he conscious? Did Shen even survive the falls?
There were a lot of them.”

He could feel Suki take a deep breath. “Yeah, but they weren’t high, not like that first one,
and they didn’t go over that. He’s a strong guy, he’ll survive.”

“He’s sick.” Funny how he had been so worried about that, and now it seemed almost
insignificant. An extra little thing weighted against them.

“Can you please stop shooting down every hopeful thing I say? I’m trying to make you feel
better.”

He almost cracked a smile at that. “I know, I just can’t bear this. What if we never find them?
What if Ro catches up while we look?”

“If he does, we’ll fight.”

He pulled her tight where he was holding her around the waist. “Don’t let him take you.
Please, he’s evil.” He couldn’t put into words what he meant, couldn’t describe it. “He’s
evil.”

She nodded and didn’t probe further, although she must have had a multitude of questions.
Especially when combined with Ro’s taunting comments. Sokka wondered if she had picked
up on his words, if she had wondered about the ‘this time’. He couldn’t help but be curious if
Ro’s men had picked up on that too, if they knew what he had done, or did they just not care?
Were they all sick bastards like he was? Would they carry out his threats gladly, or
reluctantly, like Taiju had? Sokka shuddered, his body wouldn’t stop shaking, and he was
glad Suki was in front. He suspected if he had control of the reins, he would steer the bird all
over the place.

The banks were getting steeper and there were no longer any shallows, just deep water where
the river turned and wound like a bat-snake, the bends filled with debris. Sokka was forced to
shake off the thought that his friends could be among them, held down by the current.

“There!” Suki said suddenly, her whole body going tense in excitement.

Sokka leaned around to follow the line of her finger. In the turn of the next bend, he could see
the dirty green of Shen’s shirt, it was darkened to an almost pine colour from the water, but it
still stood out among the tangled branches. Suki kicked Dumpling into a loping trot that ate
up the ground, both not fast enough and almost too quick—Sokka was so scared about what
he might see when they got closer.

Shen was caught against a fallen tree, one arm wrapped around the bark, clearly straining to
hold on. The other arm was wrapped around Zuko, who was limp against his chest. There
was blood smeared all over both of them, thin and pink where it was diluted by the water. But
if Zuko was bleeding, then he was alive.

That fact hit Sokka so hard he was already staggering off Dumpling before she finished
moving, falling to his knees in the dirt and pushing himself up to run to the bank.

Shen looked in a bad way, his hair plastered to his forehead and his skin pale from the cold.
But he was alert, his eyes following Sokka’s progress. “Get him out,” he said, as soon as they
were close enough.

It would not be easy. Sokka knew from experience Zuko was heavier than he looked and
being waterlogged and a deadweight would make it worse. It was going to be a struggle. Suki
joined him and grabbed hold of Zuko’s shirt. Shen laid back as much as he could and kicked
his legs, pushing as much of Zuko’s body towards the surface as possible. Sokka grabbed an
arm and pulled. Fuck, but he was heavy, and it was near impossible to yank him high enough
up the steep bank to pause or change his grip. If they dropped him now, the current might
take him. Suki was snarling and grunting next to him as she pulled, grabbing the arm Sokka
had, and fixing her hands around the wrist, digging her heels into the mud and tugging with
all her might. A distant part of Sokka winced a little, she could dislocate the wrist entirely,
but they could deal with that once Zuko was out of the water.

Between them, they heaved him onto the bank, grabbing at clothes and flesh to roll him the
rest of the way on. He lay limp and bedraggled, but still breathing. It was excruciatingly hard
for Sokka to leave him, but they had to get Shen out first. He didn’t look like he had much
strength left. It was astonishing he had held on as long as he had.

Suki was already pulling on him, her hands fisted in his shirt, but he seemed too weak to do
more than hold on to his tree branch and not drown. Fuck.

“Dumpling! Come here!” Sokka ordered. The bird was nudging Zuko’s limp form and
clicking at him. Naturally she ignored Sokka, and he was forced to get up and tug her by the
reins. He grabbed a coil of rope out of the saddlebag his father and Bato had given him, and
tied one end to her saddle. He tossed the other to Shen, who caught it on the second throw,
his reaction time delayed and weak. Sokka wasn’t sure he was going to be able to hang onto
it, especially as one hand was still swollen, the splints having been lost to the water. Clearly
thinking the same, Shen wound the rope around his wrist and arm as best he could one
handed, then nodded. It would have to do. Suki grabbed a handful of his shirt, and Sokka
walked Dumpling away from the bank slowly, hauling him up the sharp incline and onto dry
land.

Once he was safe, Sokka left Suki to help him and ran to Zuko, who was twitching weakly.
Even though he was clearly alive and breathing, Sokka checked his pulse first. His skin felt
cool, but not as cold as one would expect, he had probably been subconsciously bending
himself warm, keeping himself alive, even unconscious. The downside of that was his head
wound had bled profusely, and was still bleeding. Sokka really wasn’t sure what to deal with
first. How he had survived was a question for another day. One Sokka would be forced to ask
the universe on his knees, while he offered thanks for obstinate arseholes who were too full
of spite and stubbornness to die.

Forcing himself to leave Zuko’s side, he went for the saddlebags again and got what was left
of the bandages and salve out before falling back beside his friend to investigate the wound.
He was vaguely aware of Suki and Shen joining him as he wiped away some of the blood to
check the damage.

The arrow had not penetrated the skull, which sent a feeling of wobbly relief through him. It
had struck him on the scarred side, along his temple, causing a deep, serious laceration. He
hissed as he gently lifted the skin to clean it. He could see bone. Fuck, Zuko’s luck was a
wild and unpredictable thing, bad and good at the same time.

“Oh gross,” Suki said, and he could hear the sounds of her puking. Although he really wanted
to join her, he forced the bile down and focused on his task.

“We have nothing to suture it,” Shen said, his voice sounded wreaked, and he looked even
worse when Sokka glanced at him. Shaky, pale, on his knees and still soaked to the skin. “Let
me wrap it,” he continued. “I’m used to field medicine. Unless you have other techniques in
the Water Tribes?”

“No. None that I know without the right stuff.”

Sokka sat back and let Shen apply the bandage. His hands looked like they were shaking so
much, Sokka was concerned he wouldn’t do a great job, but his own were in the same sort of
state. From the shock, he thought distantly.

His heart did weird clenchy things when Zuko started to make a low whimpering noise,
moving his limbs feebly. Sokka crawled back to his side and touched his face gently on the
right side. That eye was open a slit, but his left was still mostly shut. “Hey buddy, you okay?”
he asked.

Zuko looked confused, his eye unfocused, and then his face screwed up in a particularly
unhappy way.

“He’s going to be sick,” Shen said matter-of-factly, getting a hand under his back and rolling
him to the side. Sokka helped hold his head as he vomited and groaned in confusion and pain.

“Sokka,” Suki said. Sokka turned to look at her as she dusted her pants off. “We’re too
exposed here. We have to move.”

She was right. But with Zuko down and Shen barely able to function. They were going to
struggle. But they were also going to have to try. “Okay. Let’s get Li on Dumpling,” he said
with more confidence than he felt.

Sokka aided Suki in getting Shen to his feet first, but getting him up was only half the
problem. He swayed alarmingly before taking hold of Dumpling’s saddle. She was giving
him a savage look, clearly sensing weakness and considering going in for the kill. Sokka
pointed a finger at her. “No. Tomorrow you can have a tantrum. Today, we need everyone in
the best shape they can be.” He pointed to the floor. “Go down.”

Dumpling glared.

Shen tapped her sharply, but gently, on her flank behind the saddle. “Sit,” he told her. She
looked annoyed at being given a command she couldn’t pretend not to understand, and she
lowered her body abruptly enough to send Shen staggering as the saddle he was holding
suddenly dropped. “Fuck,” he said. “Evil beast.” She looked pleased with her petty revenge.

Evil she may be, but they needed her, and with her sitting, Sokka and Suki could wrestle
Zuko onto her back with little trouble. He was conscious, but not very steady.

“Shen, you get on as well,” Sokka said.

Shen squinted at Dumpling, and Zuko slumped in her saddle. “I think you should, Sokka. I’m
not sure I’ll be able to hold him if he falls,” He admitted after a moment. It was obviously a
struggle to say.

Sokka internally debated. On one hand, although it might be exhaustion or sickness, it was
equally likely Shen was suffering the effects of the cold. And if that was the case, walking
would be a mistake. On the other hand, if they remained here in the open arguing about it,
and Ro caught up with them, then they would all die horribly. “Okay, just until we get away
from the river,” he said at last.

He slid onto Dumpling’s back behind Zuko and held him around the waist. Suki took hold of
the reins, at least avoiding the need to steer the cantankerous terror. Dumpling lurched to her
feet and Sokka somehow kept the two of them upright. Zuko whined in pain and flopped his
head back to rest on Sokka’s shoulder, his wet hair sticking to Sokka’s neck. He was still
colder than normal, but not nearly as cold as Shen had been when they pulled him out of the
water.

As they began at a horribly slow pace, Sokka couldn’t help thinking capitulating to Shen had
been the wrong move. He was holding onto Dumpling's saddle and managing a forward
motion, but his steps were clumsy and his head was bowed.

They made it to the shelter of the shrubby trees that seemed to grow in a desperate ring
around the base of the mountain. Their progress had been far slower than they hoped. But any
faster would have been a catastrophic mistake. Moving at all might still have been one. “We
need to stop,” Sokka said. “Shen, we need to get you warm.”

“I’m fine,” Shen slurred, super convincing.

“You were in the water a long time. You shouldn’t be up and moving. It’s dangerous.”

“I’m fine, warming up. I’ve stopped shivering.”

Sokka felt a bolt of fear and guilt. His need to escape Ro had overridden the possibility of his
friend dying without care. Shen, not shivering, was the opposite of a good sign in this
circumstance. Shen not recognising that, despite the fact he must know the signs of
hypothermia, was even worse. It suggested that he was becoming addled and confused. “I
need you to get on Dumpling.” He slid off, holding Zuko’s leg with one hand, as his friend
wobbled in place for a moment. He was definitely fully conscious now, and was hanging onto
the pommel of the saddle. Blood was seeping out of the bandage and down his face, but it
was a slow trickle and Sokka thought it could probably be safely left for the time being. Shen
could not be.

“Sokka, get back on,” Shen said somewhat unintelligibly, pretty much proving his case.

Sokka shoved at him in a very Zuko like manner, and he stumbled, even though he was a wall
of muscle. “Exercise while hypothermic is dangerous. Just get on the damn bird.”

“While you argue about this,” Suki said. “I’m going to go find somewhere we can camp. If
you want my input, Shen, then I would suggest listening to the guy who grew up in the South
Pole.”

“Yes, exactly!” Sokka said, giving Shen another little shove. He didn’t want to knock the man
over or piss him off too much, but he also really needed him to get on the bloody ostrich
horse.

“What happened?” Zuko broke in, his voice weak and completely confused.

“You got hit in the head with an arrow and fell in the river,” Suki told him amicably. “I’m
going. Stay or continue on, I’ll find you.”

“Why?” Zuko asked.

Sokka assumed he was still talking about what had happened to him, and not Suki coming
back. “Why did you get hit or why did you fall in? Because I’m pretty sure that the second
one is self-evident, due to the first.”

“Who?” Zuko snarled in his general direction. He didn’t look like he could see straight. But it
was a relief to see him recovered enough to be mad about things.

“Ro,” Sokka said, and even in his current state, Zuko shuddered. Sokka folded his arms over
his chest and planted his feet in an imitation of his father’s telling off stance. “Listen, I’m not
arguing with either of you about anything. I know what I’m about with this stuff.” He
included Zuko in that statement, but he was really talking to Shen. “Like Suki said, I come
from the South Pole. Hypothermia is something we deal with—accidents happen every year.
So I will say again, I know what I’m talking about. Get on the ostrich horse.”

Instead of getting on the horse, Shen sat down with a thump. Sokka closed his eyes and
counted to five. Why was everyone so fucking stubborn? Sokka went to Zuko first and put a
hand on his leg. He was regaining heat, maybe too quick. “Do it slowly,” he said, keeping his
voice low. “I don’t know exactly how it works with you, but just in case — slow and steady,
okay?” Zuko grunted. But it was unclear if the message had gone in.
“Things are going well, I see,” Suki said, reappearing like a blessing. “I’ve found a cave. It’s
further up the slope, got some overhang, and vegetation covering the entrance. We should be
able to keep watch without being seen.”

“Right, help me get Shen on the bird.”

“Don’t need help,” Shen muttered, but they ignored him in favour of hauling him to his feet.
Dumpling looked unhappy about carrying two heavy, wet, groggy people who might topple
off her at any moment. But she obeyed Sokka’s command to lower herself again, and they
bullied Shen onto her back. It was a little dicey when she got up, with both of them looking
like they might fall, but by the power of luck or obstinacy, they stayed on.

The cave was deep and tall enough they could fit Dumpling inside with little trouble. Zuko
got himself off the bird without help and then stood swaying, holding on to her saddle. He
looked more with it, although his eyes were squinted with pain. He must have one serious
headache.

Shen slid off the other side and then slumped down against the back wall and closed his eyes.
Sokka nudged him with the toe of his boot. “You, clothes off. Cover yourself with the
blanket.” Shen scowled without bothering to open his eyes, scrunching his face up, but Sokka
ignored him. “Now, Captain Shen,” he ordered.

Shen opened one bleary eye to glare at him. “You’re not making Zuli undress.”

Sokka sighed, rubbing his own headache that was settling right between his eyes. He was
probably right. Although Zuko wasn’t in any danger of hypothermia, Shen didn’t know that.
“Li, get changed,” he ordered, to stop the squabbling if nothing else.

Zuko, wonder of wonders, did as he was told, if a little wobbly, dropping his shirt and pants
into a heap rather than packing them away carefully like he usually did. A habit that had to
have come from his time at sea, as when he was a princely prince, he surely had servants to
dress him and put his stuff away neatly for him.

Sokka kept half an eye on him while he scowled at Shen until he also began to strip, still
sitting on the floor with his blanket. Then Sokka allowed himself a few moments to have a
little freak out. Just a small one, because he still had to figure out the best way to keep Shen
alive. He was so distracted by his own quiet, gibbering terror, it was only when Zuko was
actually naked and rather haphazardly trying to get dry underwear on that Sokka remembered
Suki. He swivelled to face her and found her watching proceedings with a raised eyebrow.
Zuko seemed far too invested in getting the correct limb through the leg holes to have noticed
her, but Sokka gestured frantically for her to turn around. When she didn’t move fast enough,
he tugged Zuko around a bit, so he at least wasn’t giving her a full frontal show. He needn’t
have bothered. When he went to help pull up his friend’s undergarments, Suki was facing the
cave wall, avoiding looking at either Zuko or Shen.
Underwear on, Zuko grunted at him, perhaps thanks, perhaps a comment on the weather, who
knew? Then he staggered over to where Dumpling was settling herself and slumped down
against her, resting his head back on her plumage. He had apparently given up on pants or a
shirt, but as long as he was decent, it didn’t really matter. Dumpling seemed concerned about
his lack of clothing and plucked at his hair in agitation. It was so cute, Sokka wished he could
spare a moment to appreciate it, but no, there was still too much to do before he could
indulge in nonsense or have a complete meltdown, which was what he really wanted.

He noticed Suki was not looking nearly as amused as she had been. Her gaze was pensive as
she watched Zuko and Dumpling cuddling. It took a moment to realise why—when he turned
Zuko’s body, she would have been treated with a full view of his back. Scars from Zhao’s
belt, burns, bite mark and all. They told a story, but Sokka wasn’t sure if Suki had put it
together. He hopped not. She said nothing when she caught his eyes, just gave him a small,
weak smile.

She wouldn’t say anything, he knew that, but he still felt a wave of guilt for not paying
attention, it was clear Zuko’s brains had been rattled and he wasn’t thinking straight. Sokka
should have been more responsible and stopped him getting naked in front of people, because
he had a concussion from being struck in the head.

Oh fuck, he got shot in the head. Sokka felt dizzy. He didn’t think he had finished processing
that. The fact Zuko had suffered only a concussion was both shocking, and yet somehow very
him.

Shen had finally taken off the tattered remains of his uniform and was huddled under the
blanket. When questioned, he had said he was ‘fine’ while looking the definition of unfine.
So they were going to have to decide on a plan of action without him. Sokka beckoned Suki
over to where Zuko was still sitting with Dumpling. Time for a team steam-plus-one meeting.

“We need to warm Shen up,” he said without preamble. “We’re going to have to risk a fire.”

“I understand the need, but what if that soldier spots the smoke? The two of us won’t be able
to fight them off alone,” Suki said. “I’m not suggesting we shouldn’t do it. Saving his life is
the most important thing. I just think we need to have a plan if the worst happens.”

“I can fight,” Zuko muttered.

“You can’t even see straight. How many fingers am I holding up?” He held up three.

“Five,” Zuko said without even looking. “I’ll fight if I have to.”

“I know,” Sokka said placatingly, before the dumbass tried to prove it. “But we’ll lose.
Hiding is the only way we will survive this situation.”

“We can use body heat?” Suki suggested.

Sokka breathed out, thinking. It was going to be a fine line—speed, as time was of the
essence, verses slow enough to be safe.
“I can do it,” Zuko croaked, his usual raspy voice made lower from vomiting. “Heat without
fire. I can be the fire.”

Sokka pinched his lips together. He had been wondering if Zuko would offer. But he wasn’t
going to ask. It had to be his decision, especially in the likely event Shen didn’t take it well.
But it seemed Zuko preferred the idea of a live Shen that hated him over a dead one that liked
him.

“Alright, but it’s very important you listen to my instructions, okay?” Sokka told him. Zuko
still wasn’t focusing on him properly. Fuck, he wasn’t in any state to do this, but they didn’t
have a choice. And Sokka was going to have to go in hard and blunt. “Warm his core, steady
but slow—too hot or too quick, and it can mess stuff up inside.” He wasn’t exactly sure what
happened to the organs or why, but he knew it could damage or stop a heart if you did it
wrong.

Zuko nodded blearily, but it looked like he was trying to concentrate on his words.

Sokka grabbed a hand, hot and rough. His wrist was red and bruised from Suki’s strong grip,
but it seemed to still be functional. “Practice. Heat up slow.” The fingers he was clutching
warmed. “That’s it, no hotter than that. You are going to have to get under the blanket with
him if you want to go through with this.”

While Zuko was fine with all physical contact between them, Sokka wasn’t sure how he
would feel about it with an adult man, even one he clearly liked a lot—snuggling under
blankets, even for health reasons was intimate in a way that he suspected Zuko would shy
away from anyway, even before, but now, after, there were other reasons he might feel
uncomfortable. And with that in mind, as well as the fact he was almost certainly going to out
himself as a firebender, it had to be his choice.

But it would be so much better if he were making it without a traumatic brain injury.

“Okay,” Zuko said.

Sokka had to help him up, an action that resulted in a strangled whimper escaping. His
headache must be out of this world. Sokka really, really hoped that their attempts to do this
didn’t kill Shen, or he didn’t die anyway. His own grief and guilt over the loss of his friend
would be huge, but it would be nothing compared to Zuko’s, and Sokka was unsure he would
be able to cope with it should it happen.

Shen was pretty out of it, which could work in their favour, at least with him not freaking out
at cuddling a firebender. He accepted Zuko crawling under the blanket with him and settling
against his side with one hand splayed over his chest without comment. Sokka positioned
himself on the other side and took hold of Zuko’s fingers so he could have some control over
the warmth level.

“How’s the head?” Shen asked, proving that despite the wreaked sound of his voice, he was
perhaps a little more aware than he looked.
“Hurts,” Zuko said, very quiet. Shen curled his arm around him. Sokka had a moment of
concern when Zuko’s hand tightened on his, but then he relaxed, getting used to the embrace.

Sokka’s own heart was beating wildly. Suki looked equally tense and determined, ready to
respond if Shen caught on and panicked.

Shen just looked dozy, his eyes falling shut.

“Okay, Sunshine, nice and slow,” Sokka instructed, giving Zuko’s limp fingers a little
squeeze. He was hoping Shen was too out of it to notice that the rise in temperature was more
than it should be, that he might not notice the disparity in the amount of heat Sokka was
giving off versus Zuko.

But Zuko’s luck went its usual way, of course, and Shen’s whole body went rigid under the
two of them. Sokka sent up a prayer to any spirit listening that the stubborn man waited to
freak out, just long enough he was out of danger.

His response had not gone unnoticed by Zuko, either. He was lying with head on Shen’s
shoulder, the way he had slept with Sokka last night, and his body became equally tense, his
eyes screwed tightly shut.

Shen looked like he was working himself up for an explosion, but Suki, who was apparently
very comfortable bullying grown men, leaned over them and pointed a slim, callused finger
in Shen’s face. “Don’t react. You are completely safe from the three of us. What’s going to
kill you is the cold. So tomorrow, when you are not literally freezing to death, you can freak
out as much as you like, but right now you will lie there and be warmed. Understand?”

Shen looked like he didn’t know how to respond to that, but he also looked a little like he had
forgotten what was going on, so Sokka took the opportunity for distraction. “Wow, why is
everyone I spend my time with so bossy?” he asked, voice as light as he could make it,
despite the rapid beating of his heart.

“You’re bossy,” Zuko muttered from somewhere under the covers, completely unable to resist
arguing with Sokka despite the horrible anxiety and the blinding headache he must be
suffering.

“He’s right, you are,” Suki said, choosing to gang up on him like a traitor.

“Me? I’m bossy, you say? You are both far worse,” Sokka said.

“Am not,” they said, more or less in unison.

“Are too.”

They sniped and bickered for a while, until Zuko fell silent, his face smoothed out in sleep.
Shen also seemed to have drifted off, and did not seem in immediate danger of either dying
or trying to fight them. Sokka wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. But hopefully he would
have recovered somewhat by morning. Zuko seemed to be radiating his normal body
temperature, so it seemed safe to leave them for a while.
He joined Suki at the lip of the cave, keeping a careful watch on the small section of river
they could see below them.

“Are you okay?” She asked.

“Yeah,” he answered reflexively. Then paused. He had spent his life being okay and fine, the
way Shen was fine even though he clearly wasn’t. Since the boat, since Zuko, there had been
little point in pretending things were alright. Not when it was just them. “No, not really,” he
admitted.

“Yeah. Me either.”

“You would think I would be used to the crushing fear. But every time it still gets me.” Not
just the fear, also the guilt and the shame. It was unbearable. “I’m sorry about how useless I
was,” Sokka blurted. Useless and a failure. Fuck, it was crippling.

Suki turned to look at him, very serious, and his stomach clenched up into a knot that made
him feel a little dizzy. “You weren’t useless. You were obviously terrified and distraught
because of what had just happened. And yet you still thought of a plan to throw them off, and
you carried it out. Then you helped us rescue our friends and then helped to save Shen’s life.”

“We hope,” Sokka pointed out weakly.

“He’ll be fine. They both will. We just have to wait it out until they’re well enough to travel.
We can fight if we have to, but we have better odds with hiding, I think.”

“Yeah,” Sokka agreed. “I would rather die. I would rather kill all three of you than let him
have you,” He said bluntly. In retrospect, perhaps he should have sugar-coated that a little.

She nodded, and didn’t seem shocked or appalled by that statement. “Listen, I’m here if you
want to talk. Just the sound of that man’s name sent all three of you into a distressed state. I
know it was bad.”

“Worse than bad,” Sokka croaked. “I don’t want to talk about it.” He let out a long sigh,
looking up at the sky. “But thank you.”

“Okay.” She reached out and squeezed his hand.

There were birds Sokka didn’t recognise by name darting between the trees. They had a
distinctive cry that felt familiar. He and Suki watched them sweep down, catching bugs in the
fading evening light and calling to each other, high and sharp.

“Shen will be okay,” Suki said into the quiet between them. “I assume Zuko bent his way
warm.”

“Yeah, he was probably doing it subconsciously, even in the river. The extra warmth might
have kept Shen in better shape even then. But tomorrow...” Sokka rubbed his face. Tomorrow,
assuming everyone survived and was cognizant, then they were going to have to deal with the
fallout. And that could be catastrophic, emotionally speaking. Was it too much to ask that
Zuko catch a break? That he had one reliable adult in his life (that was Sokka approved) to
give him the support he so obviously needed? As well as some guidance and direction
towards not being part of an evil empire. Being friends with someone from the Earth
Kingdom was a great first step in unfucking his propaganda filled brain.

Suki pursed her lips and seemed to consider carefully. “I think, given a little time, he will be
alright.”

“Easy to say. He hates the Fire Nation. You saw that.”

“Yeah, but so do I. So do you. Zuko isn’t the Fire Nation.”

Sokka made a doubtful noise. “Except how he kind of is, considering his bloodline.”

“Shen doesn’t know that. It’s probably best to keep that bit back. One shock at a time.”

“Now who’s planning to lie to the man?”

Suki shot him a lopsided grin that looked a little like Shen’s. “I just can’t believe he has spent
such a long time with him and didn’t realise,” she continued. “I would have expected Zuko to
slip to be honest. He doesn’t have the most reserved temperament.”

Sokka snorted, remembering Zuko challenging Huang, the deep horror and disbelief on his
father’s face at ‘Li's’ audacity. “He’s surprisingly good at not bending. I think maybe because
of the Blue Spirit stuff. He doesn’t bend then, at all.” That and if he had bent in the camp,
then he probably would have been executed. The spectre of impending death tended to make
you think before you acted, although honestly, that rarely seemed to be the case with Zuko.

“I noticed he couldn’t use the spark rocks properly. How did Shen not put that together?”

“I suspect he already did subconsciously.” There were so many things that make it obvious
when you added them up, but by themselves they could be coincidence. “I think he was
probably just in denial.” Sokka swung his legs out in front of him. He wanted to take his
damp boots off, but the lingering fear of being found was too great. He had already done
fleeing barefoot across the forest once, he was not planning to ever do it again. He sighed.
“It’s complicated when you’ve ended up making a deep attachment to the personification of
everything you hate.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Well, you would be the expert in that.”

He scoffed. “Yeah, I guess so. I can’t tell you how many times the thought ‘how is this my
life‘ has crossed my mind in the last few months.”

Suki slid him a look out of the corner of her eye. “I guess despite the way he looks, the
temperament, the body temperature, his inability to use spark rocks, and numerous other
really obvious firebending things, the fact half his face has been burnt off probably makes a
lot of people second guess themselves. Not often you see someone on their side with an
injury like that. What was it from? Has he ever said? It looks old.” She glanced at him, open
and curious. “Childhood assassination attempt?”

Sokka hadn’t even thought of that as an option. Before he knew Zuko, he had assumed the
prince had done something stupid, or tried to bend beyond his abilities and suffered the
consequences. Then he had put together the things Zhao had said, about the ‘lesson in
respect’ and the sort of person the Fire Lord was, and figured out the most likely source for
the burn. When he had asked Zuko straight out, he hadn’t denied it, only said it had been
deserved. And although Sokka still didn’t know the exact circumstances, he would bet his
life, and then some, that Zuko had deserved nothing of the kind. “In a manner of speaking,”
Sokka said grimly. “It was a punishment, I think, probably meant to kill him. But as you can
see, he is like a cockroach. Very hard to kill. Get shot in the head and fall over a waterfall?
No problem. Bit concussed.” He shook his head.

She laughed, the mood lightening a little. “But who could punish a prince?” she asked,
lowering the mood right back down. Then she seemed to think about that a little more. “Oh,”
she said.

“I don’t know for certain. I don’t know much. But…” he shrugged. “That's what I think.” It
wasn’t fair to go into any more detail, even that was probably too much, but he had weighed
up Zuko’s privacy with the need for Suki to understand what they were dealing with, to get
her on side with him, not just Sokka. He needed to show her he was actually just a hurt kid,
like them, with nowhere to go and no one to rely on except for the three of them.

“You know,” Suki started, leaning back on her hands and giving him another sideways look.
“I had thought that if we ever met again, there might be something between us,” she said. Her
voice was light, and only a little wistful. “But I’m thinking that’s not going to be the case.”

Sokka had sort of been hoping they might avoid this conversation, and his stomach squirmed
a little with guilt. “I know, I’m sorry. I kind of thought that too.” She was looking at him
calmly as he floundered. “But stuff happened.”

“Stuff.”

“You’re going to make this hard for me, aren’t you?” Sokka said with considerable
resignation. She raised an eyebrow, and he sighed. “I met someone else, I guess. I’m sorry,”
he said.

“Can’t say it doesn’t make me a bit sad, a bit disappointed. But I’ll get over it. I only knew
you a week, it’s hardly going to be the biggest heartbreak of my life,” Suki told him with an
arch look that offered forgiveness and opened the door to a little humour.

“I resent that. Not being with me is a crushing loss.”

She elbowed him with a grin. “Are you kidding? You’re the one missing out. I mean, look at
me, I can fight, I’m smart.”

“You can bully grown men like you were born to it.”
“Exactly. And I won’t accidentally incinerate you in your sleep.”

Sokka laughed, a little confused. “I would hope not! I hadn’t really considered that a
possibility for any of my many, many potential suitors.”

“Well, unless you have been canoodling with any other Fire Nation boys, there’s only the one
that comes with the risk of accidental sleep barbecuing. Not being Fire Nation is a point in
my favour too, obviously.” She sniffed haughtily.

“Who says the word canoodling?” Sokka said, then paused. “Hang on, Fire Nation boys?”

“Yes, your someone else?”

Sokka blinked, opening his mouth and shutting it, as he finally understood what she was
implying. “Zuko?”

“Yeah? Who else would we be talking about? Unless there are other Fire Nations boys
you’ve been courting on the sly?”

He held up a finger between them in an effort to derail this line of thought. “No, no, that’s not
a thing. Why would you think that?”

She leaned back and gave him an incredulous look. “It’s not Zuko? There's someone else,
someone else?” She looked both fascinated and appalled. “Does he know that?”

“Yes? Of course he does!” Sokka realised his voice had hit an embarrassingly high register
and attempted to lower it. “Why would you even suggest otherwise?”

“Can’t imagine,” she said faintly. “So, you have spoken to him about you not being a thing?”

Sokka stared at her. She seemed genuinely concerned that Zuko might think they were dating.
“Well, not in so many words. The idea of us being a thing has never come up.” Because why
would it? “But we discussed the important people in our lives, romantically speaking.”

“Which is how he knew we kissed, I presume. Which was a weird thing for him to bring up
when we met, by the way.”

Sokka felt a smile tug his mouth even through his blustery confusion. “He is a little odd that
way, I admit, and yeah, your name came up in that conversation. Actually, it turned out to be
one of the worst discussions ever for only tangentially related reasons, but that aside, I told
him about you, and about princess Yue, from the Northern Water Tribe, who I met after. The
someone else, someone else.”

“Uh huh. What did he say to that?”

Sokka shrugged. He had not really dwelt too much on that conversation, because of the
horribleness of the one that had followed. “He commiserated about some issues with my
relationship with Yue, and then we talked a little about his romantic entanglements, which
amounted to none. And then the discussion derailed into that unpleasantness I mentioned. So
yes, he knows I like her.” He had to force his mind to stop thinking about the things Zuko had
said after, he just couldn’t cope with it right now. Thinking about Yue helped a little, although
that came with its own brand of distress. “But it’s complicated, because she’s kind of engaged
to someone else.” He paused to feel the familiar rush of anger and hurt at the situation.
“Although he might be dead, because he went on the same mission I did, and everyone died
except for me as far as I know.”

Suki still had the same expression on her face. It was one of complete disbelief. “Wow, I’m
glad I’m not dating you after all,” she said.

Sokka huffed, offended. “I didn’t say I was glad he was probably dead.” And he wasn’t, not
really.

“Your voice kind of did, actually, the way it picked up a little at the end there.” He scowled at
her, indignant, but she ignored him and carried on. “But no, that’s not why. You just seriously
asked me why I thought you and Mr concussed and flamy were a thing. He went back into a
fortress full of angry soldiers by himself to check you got out, and you jumped into his arms
when he got back.”

“Did not!” Oh, this was going to be bad, he could sense it.

“You did. You still have the bruise from head-butting his mask.”

So he might have done that a little bit. But he folded his arms and gave his best example of
Zuko’s obstinate scowl, anyway.

“Then he held you tenderly when you freaked out.” She continued, as inexorable as the river
had been.

“That’s what buddies do for each other!”

“Then you cuddled all night,” she ploughed on, relentless.

“Okay, that one is harder to explain.” He waved a hand at her. “We were deprived of human
touch for a while, and it’s better when you have nightmares. Also, he’s unnaturally warm.
He’s like a really grumpy, obnoxious comfort blanket. Don’t give me that look. It sounds
weird, but it’s true!”

“You called him Sunshine.”

“It’s funny! Because he’s the least sunny person I have ever met!”

“Well, maybe you should be Sunshine, because he looks at you like the sun shines out of your
arse.”

“It doesn’t?” Sokka said, trying to add a little humour into the litany of his and Zuko’s rather
intense relationship, but he could feel himself flushing, which was embarrassing.

“Seriously, Sokka?”
“He just hasn’t had a friend before. And he lacks any kind of filter on his brain, mouth or
face,” he protested—but he knew it was a losing battle, and he knew his checks were flaming.
He might not be as quick to blush as Zuko was, but when he did, it stood out red and bright.

“Yeah, I’m sticking by my statement that I’m glad we are not dating and adding to it that I
think you are a moron, but okay.” She grinned at him to take the sting out of her words. “Tell
me about this princess.”

Sokka took the out, and he was always happy to talk about Yue. He felt the time, and
probably the situation had taken some of the glow away from his feelings about her, but he
felt speaking about Yue’s warmth, kindness, her intelligence and steadfast courage reminded
him of why he was so attached to her, and why her situation was so unfair. Even if Hahn had
died, there was no guarantee she would wait for Sokka to court her. She could meet someone
else. He would be devastated, but he would far, far prefer that than the possibility she would
be stuck in a loveless marriage or not have the choice of a husband. The idea really upset
him. It had upset him at the time, but now it filled him with rage. How could any man do that
to his child? He felt he might have words with Arnook if they were ever reunited. Well,
maybe he could get his dad to do it.

“Sounds like a fairytale,” Suki said. “In the good and the bad ways.” Her face suggested it
might be mostly in the bad ways.

Sokka kind of knew what she meant though. It was a story of star-crossed lovers that was
unlikely to have a good resolution. A union between them might help solidify relations
between the two tribes. But then again, there was not much left of the southern tribes. Would
Arnook find it worth allying with? That was of course assuming that Hahn had not survived.
And yeah, maybe there was a nasty, practical part of Sokka that didn’t want him to have, but,
however bitter he might feel about it, most of him wanted the horrible little turd to have
lived. Every death of their people at the Fire Nation’s hands was one death too many. Even
the buttheads.

“Yeah, I guess,” he said. “As long as it doesn’t end up being used as a cautionary tale for
children, I guess I’m okay with the fairytale aspects.”

Suki snorted. She did that a lot, it was a hilariously inelegant sound from someone who
always held her body with such delicate and deadly poise. Sokka grinned at her, a little wan.

Her face became more serious. “Please be careful. You didn’t know her that long. It worries
me you have all this hope.”

“Wow, thanks.”

“No, I just mean, by the time you get back, she might have been married off to someone else,
either this Hahn or some other candidate. It sounds like having an heir in place after the
assault on their home might be a high priority.” Her mouth twisted. “I don’t want to see you
get hurt holding a torch for a girl who can’t return your affections, although I am sure she
would want to.” She shrugged, her face turning sympathetic. “It sounds like she really liked
you. I can’t imagine how horrible the situation must have been for her. To be forced by her
father, or by society, to marry when she likes someone else.”
And that was why Sokka liked Suki so much, apart from her sharp wit and lovely face. She
was as compassionate as Yue was, feeling empathy for the girl who had essentially stolen his
heart away from her. Although that made it sound a lot more involved than it actually was.
She had been right to say they had only known each other a short time, and the loss of
Sokka’s affections was probably not so big a deal as Sokka felt it was. He was perhaps over
empathising due to how he felt about the Yue/Hahn situation. He sighed. She was right about
that, too. It was unlikely to work out for them.

Suki leaned back, squinting up at the darkening sky. “Are you sure there’s nothing between
you and Zuko? Because if we’re going for a fairytale, the union between Water and Fire is a
whole thing. And you’re both the son of a chief too! Well, one chief and one evil warlord.”

Sokka grinned lazily. “I can see it. Now that would be some star-crossed lovers. Healing the
rift between the nations.” He snorted, even less elegantly than she had, breathing the air out
of his nose in a noisy rush. “I think it would take a bit more than that, to be honest.”

“Probably, but as a plus point, he has a very nice behind.”

“Suki!”

She laughed. “Well, you turned him around and pointed it at me!”

“I was trying to preserve his modesty!”

“There wasn’t much to see from the angle he was at before,” she smirked at him.

Sokka squirmed a bit, rubbing a hand down his face in consternation. “Don’t bring it up with
him, okay?”

“His shapely backside?”

“Yes!” Sokka squeezed his hands together, twisting them in his lap. “But also the accidental
show. Any of it. He doesn’t really have any issues with nudity in my experience, and he
might not care. But it wasn’t his choice. He wasn’t thinking straight. And it should only be
his choice. People have taken enough from him.”

He didn’t elaborate and didn’t look at her. He didn’t want to see if she had reached the correct
conclusions about what had happened. Between Ro’s comments and Zuko’s scars, it was not
too much of a leap. But it was the bite mark that was really damning and it was hard to tell
what that was unless you were up close, now it had healed some. So maybe she hadn’t.
Maybe his own knowledge was making it feel more obvious than it was.

“No problem. All of that is off the table for teasing,” Suki said easily. “There are plenty of
other things I can mock him about. Although you and Shen are equally tempting targets.”

“Yeah, I vote Shen,” Sokka said. “You sounded like you were gearing up to make fun of him
over the Fire Nation captain who had the hots for him.” He raised his eyebrows suggestively.
Now he wasn’t frightened for Shen’s well-being, he could detach that situation from his own
memories, and perhaps also get on board with the teasing.
“That’s my pun,” Suki reprimanded him, wagging a finger. She enjoyed doing that, he
noticed.

“Well, you are going to have to learn to share.”

“I am definitely going to make fun of him over that, yes. Unless you think I shouldn’t?” She
asked, carefully casually, perhaps just checking if it was going to trigger something off in him
again, or maybe if it would do the same for Shen.

“I suspect it’s fair game—I guess go in easy, and then go for the kill if he seems receptive to
some mockery.” He thought about it a bit more. “Did he seem bothered by it?”

“Not really. He seemed to realise the guy was attracted to him, and then turned downright
predatory. Worked too.” She smirked at the memory. “Not sure it’s the first time he’s done
that.”

“Tried to seduce a Fire Nation captain?” Sokka raised an eyebrow again. Somehow, he
couldn’t see it.

“Succeeded, I think. The guy looked like he didn’t know what to do with himself.” She
laughed, a little mean sounding, clearly enjoying the idea of the other captain’s discomfort.
“No, I meant not the first time he’s used all that sexual energy to get what he wants out of
someone.”

“Ew, Suki! I don’t want to think of him that way. It’s like thinking of my dad as a sexual
being.” He faked a shudder and stuck his tongue out.

“What? He’s hot—I mean he’s obviously far too old for me, but objectively he’s attractive. A
girl can look.”

Sokka made several appalled faces at her, but he found himself wondering about it a little.
Did his behaviour mean that Shen slept with men? Or was he just exploiting an opportunity?
If he did sleep with men, then could he know the answers to some of the questions they had
regarding Zuko’s reaction to what had happened to him? And if so, could Sokka bring
himself to ask? It wasn’t like there was anyone else likely to give him an answer. He chewed
his lip, running over the level of embarrassment verses having something he could tell Zuko
that might ease some of that very specific hurt.

He decided that was a problem for tomorrow. They were going to have to get him well
enough first. “I think we will need to treat Shen’s injuries again, maybe find something to
make sure the infection he has doesn’t worsen or take hold in his blood.”

“Any ideas?” Suki asked.

“Yep! I have a book for that! We can hunt for fever fixing flowers tomorrow.”

“Once again, the man with a plan.” Suki got up and stretched. “I’m exhausted. We should
sleep if we can. I doubt they will find this place in the dark, even if they are actively looking,
and didn’t follow your fake trail.”
Sokka nodded. “Thank you for… listening,” he said. He felt embarrassed saying it, but he felt
like he needed to express it.

“Any time, Sokka. And look, about Zuko...” She paused, clearly thinking over what she was
going to say. “I can’t forgive him for burning down my home, the homes of my people.
That’s not forgiveness that I can offer alone, and I’m not sure I want to. But I can move past
it. It doesn’t have to define how things are between us going forward. I can see his…
affection for you, and it gives him a lot of credit in my book.”

“Thanks, Suki.” It was a lot she was offering. Perhaps more than Sokka would in her place.
“When he next does something insane and stupid, you can have first dibs to box his ears if
you like.”

She grinned. “Now you’re speaking my language.”

Back inside the cave, both Shen and Zuko were still asleep, tucked under the blanket. Zuko
still curled against the bigger man's side. Sokka knelt beside them and reached over to assess
the temperature under the covers. It seemed reasonable. Next he checked Shen’s vitals. His
pulse seemed strong, and his skin had regained warmth. Even his extremities were looking
better.

Zuko’s head seemed to have stopped bleeding too, although they were going to have to
change the bandage in the morning.

“Night, Sokka,” Suki whispered, as she settled beside Shen on the side not occupied by a
sleeping firebender. She arranged Shen’s arm to act as a pillow and snuggled herself under
the blanket like a sleepy kitten.

Sokka slid under his side of the covers and curled himself around Zuko’s bare back, pushing
his face against the hot skin and draping an arm over his waist. Zuko stirred a little, pressing
into his body for a second, then turning, a little awkward, so they were face to face. He kept
an arm under his left cheek to stop his injury from pressing into the floor, and he seemed
more alert than he had been. To Sokka, he looked like he was both in pain and horribly sad.

Sokka brought his hand up to cup his jaw. “It will be okay, Zu. He’ll accept you, I know he
will.” He better, or Sokka might punch him.

“You don’t know that.” Zuko sounded like he had been gargling rocks.

Sokka stroked this thumb over Zuko’s cheek soothingly. And yes, perhaps it was moments
like these that he could perhaps see what Suki meant about their relationship not being quite
normal for non-romantic partners. But most people hadn’t been through the shit they had.
And to be fair, he didn’t think anyone ever saw this side of Zuko—the quiet, wounded side.
Other people only saw the manifestation of his hurt and anxiety; the yelling and abrasive
attitude.
Zuko’s eyes fluttered closed, and he seemed to take some comfort from the touch. “My head
hurts,” he said.

Sokka shuddered at the reminder. “Yeah, you tend to get a headache when you get brained by
an arrow. Fuck, I thought you were dead. Never, ever do that to me again.”

“Sorry.”

“Well, I guess it was not exactly your fault,” Sokka said. He didn’t want to add any guilt to
what seemed to be an already large helping of negative emotions.

“I’m sorry you were scared, then.”

“I know, buddy. Go to sleep. I’ll deal with the Shen situation tomorrow. I’ll make him
understand.” Probably a foolish thing to promise. But he desperately wanted to make things
right for his friend. Shen hated the Fire Nation, but he liked Zuko—Zuli. The question was,
should they admit he was fully Fire, or leave the illusion that he was mixed in place? It could
happen, mixed kids bending. It would probably make Shen feel less betrayed, but it would
make it far worse if he ever found out the truth.

He wished he could plan for tomorrow, what the best thing to say was, the best way to play it,
but he suspected he was just going to have to roll with whatever happened and figure it out as
he went.

Zuko pushed their foreheads together for a moment, apparently forgetting he was all
bandaged and in pain, then he winced and made an unhappy scowly face that warmed
Sokka’s heart, before twisting around again, resting his head on Shen’s arm, much as Suki
was doing. Sokka slung his own arm around Zuko’s waist again and pressed his face into the
back of his neck. It was almost too warm, but it felt like comfort, despite everything that had
happened these past twenty-four hours.

………………..

Tu adjusted his armour. It was heavy and uncomfortable where it rested on his shoulders,
made for a much larger person. His lieutenant had laughed and said they may as well dress
him in women’s armour, because no men’s would fit him. Tu was used to the jokes about him
being small for his age, used to brushing it off. But it wasn’t so easy now. He was here to die,
and all these men could do was laugh about it. He was the youngest person by at least three
years, and people just looked at him with contempt.

They all knew what his dad was alleged to have done. A traitor. And everyone knew the son
of a traitor was probably a traitor, too. The thought filled him with so much anger. His father
had been a good man, a loyal man. And it was so unfair that their family had been forced to
suffer because of false allegations.
“Move out!” the captain called. Tu couldn’t actually see him over the other soldiers. He
couldn’t see much of anything really, just armour and helmets and the trampled, muddied
ground under their booted feet. But he could feel the men around him as their chi coiled in
their bodies. A stupid, useless trick his teachers had called it. Pointless, if you couldn’t fight
with it. Maybe if he could, then he wouldn’t be here, would have been useful enough to at
least finish his training before being sent to the front.

But probably not.

He had spent the time since the soldiers took their mother in terror for her and his sister. Hua
had not been home when the soldiers burnt it down, which had been a source of huge relief,
but also overwhelming anxiety. Tu didn’t know if she had escaped the purge of the rest of the
family, if she was safe wherever she was, or if she had been captured. He missed her. He had
been missing her anyway, living at the cadet barracks, but it was nothing like this.

He hadn’t even had a moment to grieve his father, not even to feel more than impudent anger
at the accusations. His father would never betray royal blood. He would never betray Tu’s
mother and sister. Not Tu either, even though he had not done well with his bending. His
father had said he would make his limited talents work. Tu’s parents had been the only ones
who had praised and encouraged him experimenting with his bending in ways which were
not violent.

A man shoved him from behind, and he made his feet move. The well of fear he had been
holding for his family overflowed with sudden terror for himself. He was here to die. The
other men all knew it and no one would save him. Someone had called him cannon fodder
right to his face yesterday. And now they were going to attack a settlement. Would there be
earthbenders? Men with swords and spears? He leaned back as far as he could as they
marched, trying to catch a glimpse of the sun, but its rays brought him no comfort.

The attack, when they made it, felt like confusion and chaos and mind numbing terror. Big,
red, armoured bodies buffeting him, knocking him sideways and nearly sending him to the
ground. So far, the risk of being trampled by his own people seemed to outweigh the
probability of getting killed by the enemy. His helmet felt too heavy for his head and hung so
low it was obscuring his vision, so he discarded it, panting in the smoke. Even for a
firebender the air felt hot and charged with terrible energy. People were shouting, some
screaming in a way he had never heard before. It sounded like agony and terror and it chilled
him despite the heat in the air. The earth was rumbling and he could barely keep his feet with
panic. Everything was full of dust and smoke and frantic soldiers.

Suddenly there was a man in front of him, dressed in the plain spun brown of a workman. He
was holding a pitchfork.

A farmer, Tu’s mind pointed out to him. They were attacking farmers.

The man’s face twisted in fear and rage and he charged. Tu could see the three-pronged blade
approaching, still with bits of dirt and grass stuck to the end. He raised his hands and blasted
with everything his tangled chi could muster. The man screamed and Tu moved through his
basic bending kata with nothing but panic. The man screamed again as he fell, and he made
an awful noise that Tu thought he would take to his grave. Which probably wouldn’t be long.
He stared at the man as he died, overcome with horror and twisted disbelieving pity and
sorrow. The farmer’s skin had bubbled and blackened like a roast fish turned over a spit.

Tu vomited. He threw up again and again and again, just standing in the middle of the battle.

He did that. He killed that man. A farmer. Had he been angry? Or just afraid? Defending his
home from fire and terror with nothing but a dirty pitchfork.

He didn’t want to be a murderer. He didn’t want to kill. He couldn’t believe what his own
people had done to him. What they had forced him to do, to become.

Tu turned and ran for the treeline. He wasn’t really thinking other than a burning, awful need
to escape from this place.

He almost made it. The dark shadows of the forest were within reach of his fingers, but then
he felt a violent, furious blast of fire on his back. It ran up his spine and scorched the hair on
the nape of his neck. He screamed, the pain flowing over him in waves. Even as he attempted
to roll the fire out, the image of the farmer’s skin was stuck in his mind. He deserved this
death, but he didn’t want it.

He lay in the dirt and wished he could see the sun through the smoke.

The lieutenant stood over him. “Deserter.” He spat on Tu’s face. “Useless little cur.” He
kicked Tu hard in the side, rolling him onto his front. Then he picked him up by his burnt
uniform. “Pathetic. The last in a family of traitors.”

Tu could feel the tears on his cheeks, from anger and from pain. But he straightened his legs,
locking his knees. He would stay on his feet to die. People who knew their family thought it
was Hua who had inherited all the spark, all the stubbornness and the fight, even though she
couldn’t bend. They were wrong, though. The people that really knew them, his parents, and
Hua herself, knew they were equal in all things. And where one lacked, the other lifted them
up. Hua would spit in the man’s eye, she would stand on her feet. He didn’t have enough
liquid in his mouth to spit, but he lifted his chin and glared.

The lieutenant punched him, knocking his head to the side violently, but he kept his feet. The
next blow hit him in the kidney, the next came with fire and struck his arm, burning through
his uniform sleeve and making him scream.

He kept his feet, though.

The world swam a little. Things were happening in sharp bursts of pain and colour, and he
couldn’t catch his breath.

“Lieutenant Fujio! What are you doing?”

There was blood in Tu’s eyes, and he couldn’t see the man properly. Big, grey hair. One of
the other lieutenants, he thought.

“He was deserting.” The man spat on him again.

 “Then let the law deal with him.”

“The law says he should die.”

“The law says he shouldn’t be fighting until he’s reached his majority. He doesn’t look a day
over thirteen.”

Fifteen. Tu thought distantly, furiously. I’m fifteen.

“I don’t care what his father did.” the man continued. “I won’t have his blood on my hands.
And nor should you. You have kids of your own.” He made a noise of disgust. “He tried to
desert? Good. Gives us a reason to get rid of him. I don’t want traitors in my unit, but I don’t
want the blood of a child on my conscience, either. Send him to be dealt with properly. Not
our problem anymore.”

Lieutenant Fujio sneered. But he stopped hitting. “You think this is a reprieve?” he breathed
into Tu’s face. “I’ll make sure they know exactly what you did and what you’re made of.”

Tu was sure that would be as bad as it sounded. But at least this bastard didn’t get to kill him.

Small victories.

Chapter End Notes

Next chapter: The morning after the night before. Zuko deals with the fallout, Shen and
Sokka have a mutually traumatising conversation and Suki decides on a plan of action.
 Chapter 20
Chapter Summary

“Dumpling is an ostrich horse,” Sokka pointed out with infinite patience. “She doesn’t
get to take part in meetings. How would she vote?”

Chapter Notes

Another one of those chapters with a whole paragraph of warnings!

Warnings: discussion about noncon (not about the specific events that happened on the
boat) frank discussion of bodies, sex and sexuality, non graphic descriptions of the
sexual exploitation/abuse of a teenager, including also abuse of power, extremely
dubious consent and confused feelings around the subject. Discussions about child
abuse, angst, endless talking.

Many thanks to my beta burkesl17, who has managed to wrangle my dyslexic nonsense.
All mistakes are my own.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Shen woke naked, boiling hot and covered in teenagers.

Which was a strange way to start the day. He had Suki tucked under one arm and Zuli
sprawled half across his chest on the other side. Sokka was cuddled up to his friend’s back,
snoring vigorously directly into his ear, with little or no effect on Zuli’s sleep. Perhaps he was
just used to it.

Shen had a blessed fuzzy moment of feeling confused and awkward, but restful. And then the
memory of what he assumed was yesterday flooded back. The arrow, the river, the rescue, the
firebending.

Zuli was still radiating heat, although less than before, and Shen could feel his own heart rate
get higher and higher as he struggled to remain still through a wave of fear. He had to remind
himself that Zuli had clearly been able to bend the whole time. Even when he’d had that
panic attack and Shen had been forced to restrain him. His heart rate soared again. Fuck, that
could have ended very differently, he could have been killed completely by accident. Fuck.
He took deep breaths to calm himself. Zuli clearly had good control of his bending, or was so
used to hiding it he had not even let go when half out of his mind. But yesterday he had been
bending at Shen while concussed. He took some more deep breaths.

He realised Zuli was awake, his body getting tenser and tenser where it lay against Shen’s.
He suspected his own physical reaction had woken the boy, or possibly he woke with the sun
because he was a firebender. Shit, but Shen was stupid, or just mired in wilful denial.

Zuli took the opportunity to wiggle out from between him and Sokka. The other boy didn’t
wake, just turned onto his stomach and continued sleeping, snores becoming a low snuffling.
Shen watched Zuli as he wobbled to his feet. He was just dressed in his Earth Kingdom army
regulation underwear, it made him look very small and vulnerable. Though he had put on an
impressive amount of wiry muscle, considering the state he had been in. The scars were stark
against his pale skin, lingering evidence of that suffering.

Pale skin that never burnt in the sun. Fuck. Shen really wished he had the energy to slap
himself in the face a few times.

He shut his eyes, trying to work through his feelings. They were far more complicated than
they should be. Anger at the deception. Fear that he could never quite overcome at being in
proximity to a firebender, even a teenaged one, especially a teenaged one. And a horrible
understanding and pity. How frightened must he have been in their camp?

While the soldiers reluctantly accepted the way he looked and the undeniable Fire Nation
blood, if his bending had been revealed, it was unlikely that Shen or Hakoda could have done
anything to save him. Even if Huang didn’t order his death, someone would have slipped a
knife between his ribs.

Even so, how had they not noticed? How had Panuk missed it? Considering he had tended
the boy’s injuries? Shen suddenly recalled the expression on the healer’s face when he had
talked about their eating habits. Fuck, the man had known.

He felt like fuck was becoming the word of the day. What was it Bato liked to say? Fuckity
fuck, fuck.

Being born a firebender wasn’t his fault. It was going to be hard for Shen to fight past his
instinctive reaction of revulsion and fear. But he would try. He was still Zuli. Still the same
kid he had been yesterday. It probably wouldn’t be as hard as it felt right now. Just looking at
Zuli’s hunched shoulders was making all sorts of protective feelings rise in Shen’s chest. He
looked miserable and hurt and like he was bracing for more of the same. There was no doubt
he was expecting to be rejected. He watched as Zuli staggered around the cave, checking on
Dumpling, peering out the entrance and sorting through their belongings, before he pulled out
some clothes and dressed, putting one hand to his bandaged head in apparent pain.

Shen was determined not to prove Zuli right and spurn him, but he was going to have to
explain that he might react poorly to any...surprise bending. His history had been wreathed in
fire and death and pain. And he couldn’t just shrug it off, not even for a kid he liked and
trusted. It was going to be hard work. But he would try.
Sokka made some lip smacking noises and groaned loudly, stretching wide enough to poke
Shen in the head with one of his falling arms.

“Zu?” he mumbled. Then he blinked at Shen.

Shen could actually see the moment memory flooded back, as Sokka’s face went from mildly
curious to shuttered and cautious.

“Morning,” Shen croaked. His voice sounded like he had been screaming, although he
couldn’t remember having done so.

“Hey. How are you feeling?” Sokka pushed himself into a sitting position and checked Shen’s
pulse, looked into his eyes and felt his skin, like the little mother hen he was.

Shen tried to sit up and experienced an unexpected wave of dizziness. He fought through it
and rubbed at his eyes with one hand.

Suki grunted and kicked him, aggravated by being dislodged from using his arm as a pillow.
The arm was totally dead. Someone so small shouldn’t be that heavy, but the girl slept like
she was made of rock. He tucked the blanket around himself. The naked part of their sleeping
arrangements was making him uncomfortable. The boys were fine, but sleeping next to a
teenage girl like that felt very improper and made him feel flustered.

“Feel like shit, but I’ll be alright in a bit,” he said.

“Hmm,” Sokka said, feeling his forehead again. “You have a fever. I think from before the
river, but nearly freezing to death probably didn’t help matters.”

“It’s mild. I just need to rest up a bit. Eat something. I’ll be fine.”

Sokka’s face pulled into a scowl. “No Shen, you won’t. The next arsehole who says they will
be ‘fine’ will get my fist in their face,” he said sternly. “We need something to bring the fever
down and we need to make sure your wounds are healing and healthy.” He got up and
stretched. Unlike Zuli, he was fully dressed. He was even still wearing his boots. “In the
interests of everyone’s sanity after the past day, Suki will do that bit. I’m going to find some
herbs for the fever and for Li’s headache.”

“Don’t go by yourself,” Shen said, just as stern. “Ro might be in the woods looking for us.
No one should be alone.”

Sokka’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he studied Shen’s face carefully. It was apparently
obvious he wasn’t suggesting Sokka should take Zuli. And he was worried about leaving his
friend alone with Shen, which stung a little, but was also reassuringly sensible given the
circumstances.

“It’s alright, Sokka. I get it. I’m not going to do anything rash.”

“Don’t hurt him,” Sokka said. He looked fierce.

“We need to talk. And that’s all it’s going to be.”

“You can hurt him with words.”

Well, that was true enough. “I don’t want to cause him any harm, but I need to talk to him. I
understand why you lied. Although I feel like we need to have words about that too.”

Sokka grimaced. “I’m sorry for keeping it from you, but I’m also not sorry. Fuck, I sound like
Li.” He sighed. “I did what I had to, and I don’t regret that part.”

“Fair. But look, I promise, no accusations, no unpleasantness, okay? I’m not happy with it,
but he needs to understand that it’s possible I might react to certain things, but it doesn’t
mean that I hate him or I’m going to drive him away.”

Sokka nodded, but he still looked worried. “Okay,” he said eventually, clearly still reluctant.
“Suki and I will scout and find the flowers.”

“What am I being volunteered to do?” Suki asked groggily, sitting up and rubbing her eyes.
Her hair looked like a tangled mess, it still had a few twigs stuck in it.

“We’re going to go look for medicine, and maybe some meat. We could all do with a good
meal. And we are going to leave the others here to...talk.”

“Sounds good,” Suki said. So at least someone trusted Shen wouldn’t murder Zuli just out of
hand. That was nice.

Zuli had headed out of the cave when Sokka had woken, and he followed to go check on his
friend. Surprisingly, he came back a moment later and handed Shen a warm bundle. “He, uh,
dried your clothes for you,” Sokka said, a little awkwardly.

“Oh, okay.” Warming someone, drying clothes. These were things Shen had never considered
about firebending. In his experience, it was only used as an act of violence. One that had
obviously been used against Zuli himself.

He had to keep reminding himself of that. The burn on Zuli's face was so big and so deep,
you could see where the flesh had melted. Not to mention the more recent injuries on his
wrists and hips. The scars weren’t as awful, but they were going to stay with him. Shen knew
it was hard to burn firebenders, although obviously it was possible. He couldn’t stand to think
about how long it would have taken, how hot it must have been to leave those marks.

“Right!” Sokka said, full of forced cheer. “Right. Suki, let’s get our stuff together and head
out. I can show you my awesome flower book.”

“Not a euphemism, I hope.” Suki smirked at him.

“No! What would it even be a euphemism for?” Sokka asked, immediately distracted from
his anxiety.

Suki grinned at Shen, giving him a thumbs up, which was perhaps her version of a pep talk.
Then she grabbed Sokka’s arm and started dragging him out. Despite his words, he still
appeared reluctant to go, but there didn’t seem to be any stopping that girl when she had the
bit in her teeth. Shen idly wondered who would win in a battle of wills between her and Zuli.
Enough procrastination. Shen hauled himself to his feet and dressed a little shakily.
Everything seemed like it took far more effort than it should, and he had to accept the fact he
was certainly suffering from an infection of some sort. But he’d had worse, and he had no
doubt he would get better with some rest and with the help of Sokka’s herbs. He couldn’t
wait until then to speak to Zuli, though, although he wished he could. It was going to be a
tough conversation. Not just because of the subject, but also because Zuli was difficult. He
was the sort of person who attacked when he felt threatened, and right now, although Shen
was physically weak, the possibility of rejection was going to be looming as the biggest
threat.

The knowledge of that was a squirmy, horrible feeling in his gut, because the majority of him
wanted to wipe those fears away, to make it better and protect the boy from all the hurt he
had suffered. But even with that being so, there was also a part of him that was upset. Not
just with the deception, but with the fact Zuli was what he was. It was hard to divorce himself
from that hate and fear. His feelings towards the Fire Nation, towards firebenders, were
ingrained in him by blood.

Naturally, Zuli seemed to sense his doubt and confusion when Shen joined him at the lip of
the cave. He was avoiding eye contact, and kept silent as he dragged out the cook pot and a
paper packet of what looked like rice. The poor kid was squinting, and must have still been in
terrible pain, but it didn’t seem to be slowing him down as he carefully measured some
portions into the small pot and added water. Perhaps he was just used to functioning through
discomfort, which was a sad thought. He was obviously still a little concussed, and his brow
was furrowed in concentration. Shen wasn’t sure if he should tell him they couldn’t risk a
fire, or wait until he actually tried to make one. It felt like a weirdly loaded situation.

Zuli dropped into a squat next to his pot. Then he looked Shen directly in the eyes, a
deliberate challenge, as he reached a hand towards the dark metal and lit a flame from his fist.
Shen sucked in a breath through his nose. He could feel his heart rate rising, but he kept his
body and face calm. He approached and sat opposite, even though his brain was screaming at
him to keep away.

The flame was small and fierce, and it produced no smoke. It was a useful trick, a way to
have hot meals with no evidence. Zuli was still staring at him, challenge in every tense line of
his body. The water in the pot began to move slightly with the heat, getting ready to hit a boil.
It was quicker than a normal fire too, and Shen wondered how much control firebenders had
over the intensity of their heat. It was not a question he had ever thought he would be able to
ask. Of course, Zuli was also a kid, and may not have had much in the way of formal
training. He wondered if Captain Kazuma would have answered if he had asked, not that he
would have thought of the question at the time.

He watched the fire carefully, the sight of it caused a rush of sense memory, and he had a
brief horrible flashback to his brother’s face as he died, the damage, the smell. He shuddered
and swallowed as he fought it back. Zuli hadn’t missed the physical reaction, though. He was
watching like a hawk, his mouth turned down unhappily.

Shen had to remember that whatever discomfort and fear he was feeling, Zuli was probably
feeling worse. He had outed himself at great physical and emotional risk to save Shen’s life.
He more than owed him for that, for a lot of things. And he wasn’t going to let his hate and
fear deprive him of his integrity and compassion. He wouldn’t let the Fire Nation take those
things from him.

He took some breaths fighting back the phantom smell of burning flesh and focusing on the
burn on Zuli’s face. Panuk had theorised it had been a deliberate act, not an accident or a
glancing blow. What the fuck had happened to him? Who? He had a horrible suspicion he
might know the answer to that, but he had no evidence to support it.

“Good trick,” he said, his voice didn’t waver. He nodded toward the bubbling pot.

“Yeah.”

“Thank you for saving me from prison.”

“You just saved me.” It sounded more like an accusation than thanks. Very Zuli. It made Shen
relax a little.

He took one more deep breath and very deliberately sat himself back casually, crossing his
legs. Zuli was still in a squat, ready to move if he needed to. “You just rescued me from
torture and death, so let me get my thank yous in.”

Zuli looked annoyed. “Well, you saved me from the soldiers in the forest,” he snapped.

Shen grinned at him. “I guess that makes us even. Let’s not put ourselves in any positions
where we do that again.”

“Sure.” Zuli kept the water boiling with one hand and stirred the rice with some chopsticks.

Bloody kid was not going to make this easy. “Look. I understand why you hid the um...” He
waved a hand toward the lightly bubbling pot.

“But you’re angry,” Zuli said, quietly, lowering his eyes and staring at the flame instead of
Shen.

Shen coincided. “A little,” he admitted, amicably. “But not really, at least, not with you. I
don’t like it,” he added bluntly when Zuli raised his one eyebrow at him incredulously. “It’s
hard for me to reconcile.” He could feel the fire on his body, the itching pain still radiating
from the burns on his own skin. “But I understand why you hid it. I get it. And if we ever go
back to the camp, hide it again.”

Zuli glanced up at him, yellow eyes wide. “You’ll still help me?”

“Of course, Zuli, as long as you are not a danger to my people, I will help you and protect
you. You’re part of my unit.” He still didn’t really look like he believed it. “My unit is my
family,” Shen added. It was the only way he could make the bond clear. Zuli flinched a little,
which was not the response he had been hoping for. “I’m not going to kick you out because
you can do…that.” Fuck, he couldn’t even say the word, and Zuli obviously knew it.
“I’ve never been ashamed of it before,” Zuli admitted quietly. “Well, I mean not like this. I’ve
been ashamed of not being good at it, but not for being a bender. A firebender.”

“You can’t be expected to be good at it if you don’t have a proper teacher.”

“I did have teachers,” Zuli snapped at him. “I learned properly, but I was never good enough.
I practised and I’m good. I am good. But not good enough.”

Shen contemplated him for a while as Zuli scowled at his rice. Shen hoped he was making
jook, because if he wasn’t it had well passed the point when he should have taken it off the
heat.

He’d had teachers? Not while he had been in the Earth Kingdom, he hadn’t. “Were you raised
by your father?”

Zuli’s mouth pinched. “Yes.”

“On the mainland?”

“Yes.” the words sounded like they were being pulled out of him.

“He had you trained, but you couldn’t be as good as he wanted?”

“Yes. He’s powerful, very talented. I was a disappointment,” Zuli admitted. “I tried, but I
could never…my sister was better. She was good.”

“He kept her?” He winced. That phrasing could have used some work, and Zuli looked both
wounded and resigned.

“Yeah. He kept her.”

They would come back to the sister, but it seemed like a sore point, so he moved on. “And he
trained you to fight? With the swords?” He had never heard of a firebending swordsman, but
they must exist.

“No. I learned that from someone else. A master.”

“That makes sense. You are exceptionally good at it.”

Zuli chucked a package at him. “Chop that.”

Shen unwrapped it to find some wizened jerky in rough strips. The sight of it made his mouth
water. “This a favourite recipe?” he asked.

“No, Sokka told me how to do it. So I’m doing it.” Again, it sounded like a challenge, like he
thought Shen was trying to subtly malign his cooking skills.

“Right,” Shen said. Zuli went back to glowering at the pot. The flames were casting a red
light over the scarred side of his face. Shen examined it carefully. Panuk had said the injury
was years old, and the Blue Spirit had been active in the Earth Kingdom for two years. Shen
really didn’t like the conclusions he was coming to. He was going to have to be blunt to get
his answers, however cruel it seemed. “Did he hurt you? Your father? Did you leave because
you wanted to or because you had to?”

Zuli shot him a flighty, pained look from under his lashes. “I deserved…I wasn’t a good son.
I tried, but I wasn’t. I wanted to prove to him I could be better. But I failed at that too.” The
flames aimed at the pot flared and Shen jumped, tense and with a feeling of anxiety and
adrenaline shooting through his veins, making him feel sick, although not as sick as the
wounded, hurting look on the kid’s face made him feel. He deserved it? No one deserved
that, especially not a kid, and he really would have been just a boy when that had happened.

He also didn’t like the way Zuli had sounded talking about his father. It was troubling. It
almost sounded like he was still regretful, like he still wanted to prove himself, to win back
the love he thought he had lost, and that was a frightening thought. There was no way in this
world or the next Shen was going to let him anywhere near a man who could do that to his
own son. To any child.

“Zuli?” Shen felt guilty for having asked, but at the same time, the angry, hurt part of him
wanted to push, he wanted some answers. He knew he wasn’t always a good person, he had
to wrestle the angry, spiteful part of himself down all too frequently. He was used to it, but
this past week had him feeling like he was teetering on the edge of losing his grip. He had
been so controlled since Shuo’s death, he had needed to keep his emotions constrained to
survive, to lead, but those feelings had not left him.

There must have been something of his internal struggle on his face, because Zuli scowled at
him again.

“You didn’t deserve it, Zuli,” Shen tried.

“That’s not your place to say! And I don’t want to talk about this.”

Shen scowled back. “Look kid, whatever you felt you did, or didn’t do..”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it!”

He knew he was pushing it, but he needed the boy to understand, he wanted to understand
himself. “I know, it’s clearly a painful subject, but-”

“I said stop!” Zuli cut him off and lurched to his feet, knocking the pot over in his haste. Shen
flinched with his whole body at the sudden movement, although there were no flames.

Zuli looked stricken for a moment, and Shen could see his muscles bunching almost in slow
motion as he swung around, clearly preparing to bolt. Shen fought through his fear and his
exhaustion to push himself up and cross the space in a few seconds. He caught hold of the
boy’s arm before he could flee out into the woods, trying to keep his grip firm but not hard,
he couldn’t risk him running off alone, but the last thing he wanted to do was cause any more
physical harm.
Zuli spun and punched him in the gut. It fucking hurt, and all the air left Shen’s lungs in a
gasp, but he hung on and pulled the kid in as he struggled. He dragged him into the circle of
his arms and held him tight to his chest. He could feel Zuli shaking with anger or adrenaline.
“I’m sorry,” he said with what breath he had left. Fuck, but that kid could pack a punch. “It’s
okay. I’m sorry.”

Shen curled one arm up, threading his fingers through the kid's thick hair below his bandages
and gently holding his head against his chest. “I’m sorry,” he said again. He could feel Zuli
shuddering and shaking and he felt like such a dick for pursuing what was clearly still an
upsetting subject.

He had to control his own emotions and temper. He had never been a violent person off the
battlefield, but he knew he had a tendency to lash out verbally when angry, confused or in
pain, and he couldn’t afford to do that when dealing with these kids. It wasn’t right or fair. He
could recognise the same aggressive, defensive impulse in Zuli, because it reminded him so
much of himself, a younger version, before he gained better control. One traumatising week
was not going to make him backtrack.

Zuli had calmed somewhat, and was leaning against him, although not returning the hug with
his arms, which appeared to be hanging awkwardly by his side. Shen smoothed his hand
through the boy's hair again, although he belatedly realised he probably shouldn’t be touching
it. Fire Nation folk were very weird about their hair. But he didn’t seem to be objecting,
instead leaning further into Shen’s body.

“It was his right,” the boy muttered into Shen’s shirt.

“Your father?”

“Yes. It was his right to teach me when I wouldn’t learn.”

Shen fought back the furious anger that coursed through him. “No, Zuli. It wasn’t. I was
blessed with good, kind parents, who loved me and my brother, even though he was not my
father’s son by blood.”

Zuli pulled out of his embrace, although he allowed Shen’s arm to maintain contact where it
was still wrapped around a bony shoulder. “Who’s was he?” he asked with an impressive lack
of tact. At least he had been distracted from his own emotional meltdown.

“I don’t know. A Fire Nation soldier. It happened when our farm was attacked. My father
saved me, but lost track of my mother in the fighting.” The look on the boy's face was
heartbreaking. The subject matter was probably extremely distressing on a number of levels.
But Shen continued regardless. “Despite that, the pressure it put on our family, my father
loved him and treated him as his own. He never raised a hand to us.”

“It’s different,” Zuli croaked. “I can’t explain it, but it is. And I still don’t want to talk about
this,” his voice cracked a little.

“Okay,” Shen said gently. “Okay.”

Zuli stepped away, and Shen let him, giving him a moment to compose himself while Shen
picked up the pot. Some of the jook had escaped, but most of it remained. A little additional
water would make it thinner, but stretch it far enough to make a satisfying meal for the four
of them.

Zuli sat himself down beside it again and resumed cooking. Shen returned to his original spot
and lowered himself back to the floor, wincing at the pain in his gut from Zuli’s fist. Another
bruise to add to his collection, although deserved, in this instance.

They watched the pot for a while in a complicated sort of silence.

“I’m sorry for lying,” Zuli said at last.

“I know. And I accept your apology.” Shen signed and drew a knee up so he could rest his
arm on it. He wished he wasn’t feeling so fuzzy. This conversation clearly needed more
finesse than he could give it at the moment. “I’m sorry for not listening when you said you
didn’t want to talk about what happened with your family.”

Zuli nodded, quiet and subdued again. Shen had to discard all his other questions, the ones
about his sister, about his sword master. It was frustrating, but Zuli was not in the right
emotional state if he accidentally got onto another upsetting topic. So, perhaps a less fraught
subject would help ease the tension while also helping with his burning curiosity. “Kazuma,
the Fire Nation captain, he spoke a bit about his hunt for the Blue Spirit,” he began, and Zuli
raised his eyes cautiously. “He said that the Blue Spirit often went after collections of
mystical and historical manuscripts. Why is that? What were you looking for?”

Zuli shot him a guarded look as he pondered for a moment. “I was looking for information on
the Avatar.”

Shen blinked at him. “The Avatar? Why?”

“If I could find him, I might prove my worth and change...change how things were.”

Well, that was a bizarre choice, although Shen could see the appeal—he was sure lots of
teens, especially ones in unhappy situations, had the same daydream; be the one to find the
person who could save them. The difference being that Zuli had not stopped at daydreaming
and had instead started breaking into heavily armed fortresses and stealing documents. “The
Avatar had been missing for over a hundred years,” Shen pointed out.

“Yeah? Well, I found him, didn’t I?” Zuli snapped, a nasty scowl on his face. Kid had a point,
he had found him. Fuck knows how. “I just had a bit of trouble hanging on to him,” Zuli said
with one of his angry pouts. “But I would have. I would have, I just needed more time. And it
would have been easier if people hadn’t kept getting in my way. If Sokka’s sister hadn’t been
a bender, I would have managed it at the North Pole.”

That explained why he had been fighting a waterbender. “Why were you trying to capture
him? Why not just ask him for help?” Although it made a sort of sense, he might not have
thought that the Avatar would help him specifically, considering he was at least half Fire.
Shen still wasn’t sure exactly what his familial situation was, apart from a mess, but of all the
questions, that one might be the most loaded. It was for Shen, although since Shuo’s death he
had made a point of not shying away from the situation of his brother’s birth.

And while he had a list of people, he held liable for his death—people he had sworn a stupid
oath of vengeance against, even though he had no hope of ever fulfilling it, the circumstances
of his birth he placed the onus only on one man. Whoever had fathered him. Shen had been
raised to place no blame on the child or the mother of children like Shuo. People shouldn’t
blame the kids born that way, or the women who birthed them. But he wasn’t sure if Zuli
shared those sentiments. If he was mixed, if his mother was a war bride or the mistress of
what was almost certainly a ranking officer, then he might be still mired in self-hate, like
Shuo had been. It would take some work to undo that.

So for now, he steered away. Zuli had not answered that question so he left it, and moved
onto another. “I’m confused about the timeline. You said you and Sokka both met the Avatar
in the North Pole. You swam under some ice?”

Zuli rolled his eyes. “I wish he would shut up about that.”

“Uh huh. But you also met Sokka and Suki before that? On Kyoshi Island.”

“Yeah.”

“What were you doing there?” Shen asked patiently.

“Looking for the Avatar,” Zuli said with the ‘obviously’, heavily implied in his tone.

“Why there?”

Zuli sighed out through his nose and a horrifying wisp of steam escaped. It seemed now the
bending thing was out of the bag, he wasn’t going to put it back in. “That’s where he went, so
I followed. I thought it was to find allies or an earthbending teacher, but Sokka told me it was
actually because the Avatar wanted to ride a big fish.”

“The Avatar wanted to ride a fish. The most powerful being in the world.”

Zuli gave him a look that encapsulated a feeling of bemused, incredulous despair. “Yes. This
was a theme. I followed him all over the world. And most of the places he stopped involved
riding something, or investigating something stupid that would not help him with his
bending. He’s twelve. And it shows.”

“You’re not that much older,” Shen pointed out.

“I haven’t been a child in a long time.”

Shen could relate to that. It had been a long time since he had felt like a kid when he first
signed up. But now, as an adult, he could look back and see he had been a kid, just a pretty
messed up one. “How does Sokka fit into this? He was at Kyoshi Island too?”

“He and his sister were travelling with the Avatar. From the start, until the North Pole. I
assume Katara is still with him.”
“Right,” Shen said, while he dealt with that. More lies of omission. Did Hakoda know? He
couldn’t be sure, but he suspected he did. He had hidden it in order to protect his son. Shen
didn’t think he could blame him for that, but he was getting pretty annoyed at the bullshit and
misdirection. It also explained why the Fire prince had been chasing Sokka and his sister.
That story had conveniently left out the fact that the Avatar had been with them. Yeah, that all
made a lot more sense now.

And Zuli had been pursuing them too, and this admiral Zhao. That could also explain why
Zuli had apparently decided to take his competition out. Although he still suspected there was
something personal there, Zuli had proved he could and would kill, but only when he deemed
it necessary. Shen was still a little baffled that he had let Kazuma live.

“You were looking for Avatar related information in the Blue Spirit raids,” Shen clarified.

“Yeah.”

“So what led you to him? Did you find anything?”

“No,” Zuli pouted again. “It was chance. Destiny. I don’t know. Not any information I
found.”

They watched the pot again. Shen shifted a little, debating pushing for more. “I have one
other question, but you don’t need to answer. You don’t owe it to me.”

“Okay.” Zuli blinked his yellow eyes at him, not mistrustful exactly, but wary.

“Will you tell me your name?”

The boy chewed his lip and stared at his own flames as they hit the pot. “No.” He glanced up
and caught Shen’s eyes, earnest, and more open than usual. “Not because I don’t trust you,
because I do. But that person is...I can’t be him anymore. After everything, I can’t go home, I
can’t have my name back. I…” he trailed off and blinked rapidly. “I’m Li. Zuli.” He shot
Shen an annoyed but affectionate glance. Not an expression he saw often on the kid, at least
not unless he was looking at Dumpling or Sokka. “You know me as Zuli, and I want it to stay
that way. Do you understand?”

Shen smiled at him as gently as he could. “Yeah, I do.” Becoming someone else and living
that truth was something he could understand. Shen hadn’t changed his name, but he had
stopped being a farmer’s son when he enlisted. He had left his old life behind. His loving
parents, their new farmland, as scrubby as it was. Even when Shuo joined him in the army,
fresh faced and furiously angry. His Fire Nation eyes getting them both into several fights in
the ranks. He had not returned to the person he had been. Had not allowed the grief from his
old life to seep into his new one, even when he found out his parents’ new village had been
burnt out. The few people who remained had said his folks had survived. But he had no way
of finding out where they went. No way to find them, and no time to try. He couldn’t just
leave the army. He had moved on and left the past behind. He couldn’t have gone backwards
without losing himself. “Zuli it is.”
The kid smiled at him, small and with the trust that had been missing since he woke up this
morning. It warmed Shen’s heart in an entirely sappy way. They were going to be okay.

The wait for Sokka and Suki to return was spent in a relatively peaceful silence. Although
Zuli was still clearly suffering from his headache, with his unburnt eye sitting at half mast
and the other almost completely shut.

“Let me check your bandages,” Shen said. For once the kid did as he asked without argument
and allowed Shen to unwrap the injury and inspect it. It was gnarly but didn’t look infected. It
would probably scar, but considering the rest of the kids face, it could be worse.

Shen reapplied the salve the boys had brought and used the last of their bandages to re-wrap
it. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” Zuli’s voice was subdued with pain, and his mouth was turned down in a pout that
would have been cute if it wasn’t caused by hurt.

“We bring herbs!” Sokka’s excited voice came from outside the cave and Zuli’s face
immediately lit up. Poor kid was completely smitten.

Sokka was carrying an armful of herbs and he ginned wide when he caught sight of Zuli
squatting by the pot. “Did you cook?” He carefully placed the plants on the ground. “Should I
be afraid?”

“Only if your instructions were poor.”

“My instructions were perfect.”

“So the food will be perfect.”

Sokka screwed up his face. “No offence, but to my knowledge, you have never actually
followed an order or instruction in your life. So excuse me for having a certain amount of
scepticism.”

“Offence very much taken.”

“It’s true though.”

“Yeah, probably.” The corners of Zuli’s mouth tilted up in a smile. Sokka looked very pleased
with himself and squatted down next to his friend. They bent their heads together to speak in
low voices. Mostly low. Whispering was not one of Zuli’s strong points.

Suki leant by the cave entrance and watched them with an amused tilt to her lips. She sent
Shen a wry look before stepping forward. “So, Zuli,” she said. “Will you help me crush up
these herbs? Sokka bashed his hand and I could use a strong arm to pound them for Shen’s
tonic.”
“Sure.”

Zuli seemed to sometimes take things at face value, and didn’t seem to realise that he was
being manipulated, but this sure as shit seemed like something prearranged to Shen.

“Shen,” Sokka said. “Can you take a look at my hand in the cave. And I can check your
injuries while the others stay here and crush the herbs?”

For a kid that had managed to manipulate the truth in the way he had, sometimes he really
lacked subtlety. However, given some practice, he would make one impressive politician.

“Okay,” Shen said. He pushed himself up, only a little wobbly, and dutifully headed inside.
He headed to the back wall, as far out of earshot as it was possibly get. Then he sat and
waited.

Sokka followed him almost immediately and sat opposite him. Yep, definitely a planned
thing. Shen sighed internally.

“Thank you,” Sokka said, a little awkwardly. “For being kind to him.”

“I wasn’t that kind,” Shen admitted. “I pushed him pretty hard.” It was strange he hadn’t
mentioned that to Sokka. It sounded like he had described only the positive side of their
conversation.

“It was kinder than he was expecting.” Sokka shrugged.

“Yeah, well, I get the impression a kick in the face is kinder than he expects.”

Sokka grimaced. “What did you talk about?” He was probing, cautious, clearly wondering
which of their secrets had been spilled.

“Lots of interesting things. We discussed his heritage a little.”

Sokka’s fingers were fidgeting with the seam of his pants. “How much did he tell you?”

“Not much. He was raised by his father, who set fire to his face. Although he didn’t go into
any details.”

Sokka blanched a little. “I’m surprised he talked about that.”

“Like I said, I pushed him on it. It wasn’t fair.” Shen leaned back against the cave wall and
stared at the rocky ceiling for a moment. The air in the cave felt a little stale, or maybe it was
just guilt.

Sokka’s mouth pinched, but he nodded

“Do you know the specifics?” Shen asked.

“No. It’s not something we have discussed, really. I knew it was his dad. Although he’s never
actually come out and said it.” Sokka shifted a little and glanced up at him through his lashes.
For a kid who could apparently lie and twist the truth with ease, he was remarkably obvious
with his discomfort and anxiety. “Did, er, did he tell you anything else?”

What was he worried about? There was clearly something he wanted to find out if Shen
knew. “He told me you know the Avatar personally. That you were travelling with him.” He
frowned a little, his irritation returning.

Sokka’s eyes widened, but he looked surprised. Not that then.

“Er, yeah.”

“Does your father know?”

The boy said nothing, but his face said yes.

“I’m going to take that as an affirmative.” Shen crossed his arms over his chest, wincing a
little at the fresh bruise from Zuli’s fist. How long had Hakoda known? Had Sokka told him
when he arrived, or had he already been aware? Bato had brought him the news of his
children leaving their village and being chased by the prince. Had he also passed on this bit
of information? It brought an additional layer to Sokka’s captivity and his worth to the Fire
Nation if so.

“He wasn’t trying to keep things from you.”

“Clearly he was. I guess I understand why. Huang would have found a way to use it. But I’m
getting sick of being kept out of the loop.”

“Yeah,” Sokka said. He looked guilty. Fuck. Shen had been right, there was still shit they
were holding back. Who knows what it was? More Avatar stuff? More Zuli things? Maybe
the identity of his father? Gold eyes were more often seen in the aristocracy, but they weren’t
exclusive. He was betting he was a general though, someone involved in the war effort most
likely. That could be a whole other pot of worms. But Shen had pressed enough for today. As
angry as he was about all of it, he didn’t want to hurt or upset either of the kids. They were
only protecting themselves. Something that was also infuriating. They shouldn’t have to
protect themselves from people who should be the good guys.

“It’s alright, Sokka,” he said at last.

Sokka nodded, but he didn’t seem relieved. And instead of leaving, he remained where he
was, looking profoundly uncomfortable.

“Is there something else?” Shen asked with some trepidation. “I assume your hand is fine.”

“Er, yeah. I guess.” He sounded more like Zuli usually did, stilted and awkward, it wasn’t
like Sokka to get tongue tied. The boy could talk his way through anything. Shen waited.
Presumably the kid would spit it out when he was ready.

“I… I wanted to ask you some stuff. It’s, um, quite personal,” he said at last, blue eyes
looking big and anxious.
This did not sound like a conversation Shen was going to enjoy. “Personal for who?”

“For you maybe,” He raised an awkwardly hunched shoulder. “But also for Li.”

“You can call him Zu, if you want. I heard you this morning. I always figured that part of his
name was real.”

Sokka grimaced again, flushing a little. “It’s better if I keep saying Li, so I don’t get muddled
when I shouldn’t.”

Sensible kid, as usual. “Okay, you can ask. I reserve the right not to answer.”

The boy did not look relieved.

“Before you do, Does Zuli know you’re asking?”

Sokka blew air out of his mouth, making a noise with his lips. “No. It’s something we
discussed privately. I shouldn’t break his confidence. But I… I don’t have any answers for
him and there is no one else. So I would ask that you keep this between us?”

“Of course. Ask.” He was certain he was going to regret this.

Sokka straightened his hunched shoulders a little. Shen wondered if he realised he was
mimicking Zuli’s response to tough emotional conversations. Back straight, chin up.

“Okay, so it’s about sex stuff.”

Yup, this was not a conversation Shen wanted to be having with a sixteen-year-old. He would
probably have to add it to the growing list of things Hakoda was going to have to kill him for.

“Okay.” He could count this as penance for his near disaster of a conversation with Zuli. He
probably deserved to suffer a bit for that.

Sokka’s face firmed with determination, even as his ears went very red along with his cheeks,
which were already flushed. “If a man really doesn’t want to have sex, why would he still get
hard? Even if it’s awful, I mean.”

Ouch… Shen’s heart broke a little thinking about the conversation they must have had. Fuck,
that poor kid. He rubbed a hand over his face. “If a man is physically stimulated, then his
body might respond, even though he doesn’t want what’s happening to him.”

Sokka nodded seriously, his head tilted a little. “So he could become... you know, from
someone touching him.” He pointed at his crotch, which was an illustration Shen could have
lived without. This was awkward enough already, but the stilted phasing was also pretty
amusing, considering the bluntness with which he had asked the first question.

Sokka squirmed where he was sitting, like his whole body was itching. Shen wasn’t sure if it
was because he was letting him know the details of what had happened to Zuli, or if the
subject was as embarrassing for him as it was for Shen.
Still, he was the adult, so he was going to have to be as clinical as he could. “Yes, a man can
become aroused from being touched without consent, or if they don’t want to have sex with
that person.” Looking at Sokka’s conflicted face, Shen decided to give him an out from going
into any further detail about Zuli’s experience. “I can give you a slightly different example
than the one you’re talking about?”

Sokka looked unbelievably relieved. “Please.”

Shen thought carefully about how to phrase this story. It wasn’t something he had ever
discussed, or at least not for many, many years. “When I was seventeen, I was tall for my age.
I looked a little older and was fighting before I should have been allowed,” he began, sorting
carefully though his memories and habitually ignoring the feelings that accompanied them.
“My captain was a good man, but he took a sword to his gut during a campaign. While he
was out of commission, we were reassigned. The new captain had some information
regarding a potential collaborator.”

“Someone from the Earth Kingdom who was helping the Fire Nation?” Sokka asked, a bit
doubtfully.

“Yes. She was from the colonies, but fully Earth, not mixed.”

“So, she was acting against her own people?”

“Don’t look so surprised. It happens, probably in reverse too, the Fire Nation selling secrets
to the Earth Kingdom. People do it to protect their loved ones, their homes, or for the promise
of money or power.” Shen chewed the inside of his mouth for a moment, collecting his
thoughts. “She was well born, used to power and wealth, she worked with the Fire Nation to
gain more. My new captain wanted proof. And she had a certain taste for younger men.”

Sokka made a face. “I think I can see where this is going. You don’t have to tell me if you
don’t want to.”

“It’s fine,” Shen said, although he didn’t like the feeling in his chest. “My acting captain gave
me an order, and I obeyed it. I found his proof by way of her bed.” He ran a hand through his
hair. “I hated her, and she disgusted me.” He could remember the way her fine silks and
perfumes had made him feel grimier than the mud on the battlefield.

He paused for a second to get himself in order. “I struggled to, um, perform.” Ridiculous to
feel embarrassed to admit that, considering the situation he was describing. “I told her I was a
virgin, and acted coy and intimidated. She liked that. And with some physical help, I was
able to do what I had been instructed to.”

It had become easier. Much easier. It hadn’t been his first time with a woman, but it had been
the first with someone experienced, someone who told him what to do and how to do it. It
had clearly made an impression at some level, as he liked women who were assertive in bed,
and it bothered him that early experience may have shaped something he enjoyed. It was
completely different to his trysts with men, too. Like the two things were entirely septate in
his mind and body, when they probably shouldn’t be.
“Although my feelings remained horrified and disgusted, I spent a week with her, until she
got bored. Then I sold her out.” And she had gone to the gallows, which had been weirdly
upsetting in spite of everything. “But the point is, although I wasn’t aroused by her or the
situation, I could still make my body perform once it became physical.”

He shuddered a little at the memory. He didn’t think he could ever feel that disgusted with
himself again. His captain had found out, after, and hauled himself out of his sickbed and
dressed down the other captain to such an extent he had nearly lost his commission. Right
until he had pointed out Shen’s age, then things had been quietly brushed under the rug.

Sure, teenagers fucked in the army, of course they did. Keeping Yuxuan out of trouble in
towns had been a struggle since he had enlisted, despite the colour of his eyes, or sometimes
perhaps because of it, he had still found willing partners practically everywhere they stopped.
The kid had been a menace, but a good-natured one. Shen’s heart squeezed with loss. He
hadn’t asked any further details, and he had been avoiding thinking about it, but he was going
to have to deal with that reality soon. He wasn’t sure he had it in him at the moment.

He breathed out.

Even with a kid like Yuxuan, there was the world of difference between a teenager getting
laid in a brothel or falling into bed with a farmer’s daughter, and a seventeen-year-old being
ordered to take part in a honey trap, especially as he shouldn’t even have been fighting for
another year by the army’s own rules. It didn’t look good, and they’d hushed it up. His
captain had pulled him aside. Told him to report anything like that again. It had taught him
some lessons about the dangers faced within his own armed forces. And he’d kept an eye on
his own unit when he had become captain. Taken in those he thought might be vulnerable to
exploitation and abuse, and fought other captains on their troops' behaviour.

Sokka looked like he was processing, a small furrow between his brows as he stared at his
crossed legs.

As it stood at the moment, the relationship between the boys seemed to be unusually close,
but platonic. However, Shen, and probably every other person they were in company with for
more than five minutes, could clearly see Zuli had a bad case of feelings. He was not subtle.
Every other person, but not Sokka apparently, who didn’t seem to have noticed. It was cute,
and would have been endlessly entertaining if it wasn’t overshadowed by buckets of sexual
trauma. If their relationship progressed to something romantic, or even if it didn’t, and they
went on to have other partners, there were other ways their experiences could affect them, so
it was probably Shen’s duty as the only current responsible adult in their lives to at least
attempt to explain those potential issues. He rubbed at his face, making the little bruises and
scratches from his river adventure sting. The pain helped a little.

“It doesn’t always work like that, though,” he said. “Sometimes, after a severe shock, trauma,
or even just when something is troubling you, you can’t perform even if you want to.” He
very much hoped he wouldn’t have to provide a personal anecdote for this one too, because
he didn’t think he could cope with any more complicated feelings.

“So, like you can’t get it up?” Sokka was back to being blunt. His weaving between being
hesitant and just blurting out questions was strangely helpful to Shen maintaining his
equilibrium.

“Yeah, that’s a normal response, too.” A humiliating one to be sure, but better forewarned.
Shen was fairly certain that teenage hormones would probably override any issues, but if they
didn’t, then that was the sort of thing that could cause a lot of confusion and pain. So putting
it out there was probably the best thing to do, especially given the nature of the boy’s trauma.

Sokka nodded solemnly, thankfully not asking for any further detail on that one. But he was
chewing his lip, and he had flushed a ruddy colour as he searched for his words. And Shen
resigned himself to the next question. It was going to be a bastard, he could tell just from the
expression on Sokka’s face.

“Just so I know,” Sokka said eventually, staring at Shen’s chin, then his left ear. Avoiding all
eye contact in his embarrassment. “Why would the man or, er, person I guess, use their
fingers to, um...” He made a lewd gesture with his hand. “With a guy,” he clarified, in case
Shen had somehow become confused.

He wished he was confused. He had been correct. This was worse than the other questions.
While they touched on painful subjects, this was just flat out awkward and embarrassing. But
if the kids didn’t really understand certain things about sex between men, it was something he
should probably share, horrible embarrassment or not.

So, Shen pulled his shit together and gave as much detail as he could on anal sex, the good
the bad and the very practical.

Death might have been preferable.

He was not cut out for parenting. Maybe it was easier if you started when the kid was a baby,
and not with teenagers fresh from torture and abuse. But Sokka was quiet and attentive, and
although he was very red in the face, he was clearly absorbing the information. Hopefully
that meant Shen would never, ever have to have any form of this conversation again. Fucking
Hakoda. This was his job. This was definitely one Shen would be entitled to kill his friend
over. If Hakoda didn’t get him first, of course.

“Thanks, Shen, for er... Thanks. That helped,” Sokka said, still looking a little traumatised.
Shen could relate. His own face felt hot, and he suspected it was almost as red as Sokka’s.
Talking about sex wasn’t usually hard, it was just sex, something lots of people did on the
regular, including himself, at least before Ba Sing Se. But somehow this conversation had
been horrific, perhaps it had been the lurking knowledge of the abuse they had suffered. Even
though Sokka had not been a direct victim of the sexual violence, there was no doubt in
Shen’s mind that he had also been victimized by it, that it formed part of the trauma he was
clearly still processing.

Shen cleared his throat. “No problem. I hope you know you can always talk to me if you need
to. But please also know I would rather die than have this conversation again.”

Sokka laughed, and the tension broke. “Thanks. I just…I just didn’t know what to say to him.
I still don’t. You’ve given me some answers, but how can I bring it up?”
“Don’t. It’s on his mind. Let him open the conversation. Don’t push him.” Fine words from
Shen, who had nearly caused a disaster doing just that. “He’ll talk about it again, think about
what you might say, so you can judge if you want to tell him you asked me. I’m not sure how
he would feel about that.”

“He trusts you. As much as he trusts anyone.”

“Yeah, but it’s a very personal thing. I think you’ll do fine when it happens.”

“Thanks.” Sokka grinned at him, a little abashed. “I keep saying that.”

“It’s no problem. Just please don’t tell your dad about it while I’m in punching distance.”

Sokka laughed again and gave him a warm smile. Trust from Sokka was as much of a rare
gift as trust from Zuli. Shen wasn’t sure he deserved it, but it made him feel pretty good
despite the lingering feelings of distaste and embarrassment.

“You’re looking pretty shaggy. You want to borrow my razor?” Sokka asked.

Shen rubbed the beard growth on his checks, itchy and irritating. “Yeah. Yeah, I would.
Thanks, Sokka.” He leant forward and ruffled the boy’s hair. Sokka beamed like a goofy ray
of sunshine.

Ugh. He would die for any of these kids. How did that even happen?

And he was almost certainly going to have to let them go off alone into danger. He couldn’t
stay with them, and he couldn’t take them back to the camp. Huang couldn’t be trusted with
Zuli’s wellbeing, especially now Shen knew what he knew.

The meal felt like a feast, warm jook and jerky, followed by some sweet berries Sokka had
brought back from the trip into the woods. It sat heavy and warm in Shen’s belly, making him
feel lethargic. Although that might have been in part because of the fever and the concoction
of herbs Sokka had forced down his throat.

He had resigned himself to the drowsiness and the fact he was going to be useless until he
rested up and got the fever down.

Zuli was less keen to settle and wait out his illness. He was scowling at Sokka, but also
intermittently at Shen, like he thought he might be getting ready to argue with him. He
looked like a cornered cat and you could almost imagine the raised hackles and lashing tail.

“Li, just take the herbs! Give it a few hours and you’ll feel better,” Sokka tried.

“No, I won’t have them making me sleepy. What if we need to fight?”

“You’re sick and concussed. A few hours’ rest will make you better able to fight if we have
to.”
Voice of reason, meet immovable object.

“We can’t risk it. Look, at Shen, he won’t be any use.”

“Thanks, Zuli,” Shen said, but he slid down further until he was lying on the dusty floor, and
settled with his head on his arm. They could argue all they wanted, but he was resigned to his
own body’s need to sleep. He thought they would probably have to rest up a day or two
anyway, and they could use the time to come up with a plan of action.

“Li, Shen is being sensible for once. Please follow his example!” Sokka was still attempting
to make his case. Shen objected to the implication he wasn’t usually reasonable. Although the
situation post his dip in the river was a little blurry, so there was a possibility he had not been
at his best.

“Thanks, Sokka,” he said, a little wry. “You want to have a dig too, Suki?”

“I mean, if you want? I can always find time to make fun of you. Where do you want me to
start?”

Shen grinned, shutting his eyes for just a moment and feeling more relaxed than he had since
Huang had sent him on that stupid fucking mission.

“I’m fine, stop pestering me, Sokka. I’ve just got a headache. It will pass.” Zuli was still
arguing. “I’m not going to pretend it doesn’t hurt, because it does. But I can handle it.” He
sighed. “Last time wasn’t this bad. Still painful, but not as much, and I only needed a few
hours to feel better.”

“Last time? Last time you were hit in the head with an arrow?” Sokka said, his voice
shooting up in volume and pitch.

“Yeah,” Zuli muttered.

Shen forced his eyes open to scowl at the little group of kids. “I’m sorry, are you telling me
you’ve been shot in the head twice?” he interjected.

“Yeah. When I was breaking the Avatar out of Pohuai Stronghold. But I was wearing the
mask. It didn’t break skin, but it did knock me out,” Zuli admitted, glowering at the floor like
it was at fault for his loss of consciousness.

Sokka rubbed the bridge of his nose. He looked very pained. Shen could understand how he
was feeling. “How are you like this? Why are you like this?”

“Like what?”

“Like this. Who gets shot in the head twice?”

“Yeah, Zu, who gets shot in the head twice?” Suki jeered at him, her voice full of good
humour. This set both the boys off arguing, and Shen shut his eyes again, letting their voices
wash over him.
The herbs were still tugging him down towards sleep, but he was resisting its pull, dozing
lightly with his eyes mostly closed. He could just make out the kids through his lashes as
indistinct, blurry shapes.

But he could still hear them loud and clear.

“So, important meeting,” Sokka said. “I propose we expand Team Steam to include Suki and
Shen.”

Team Steam? Water and Fire. Shen snorted to himself. He was going to bet every piece of his
pay it was Sokka who had come up with that.

“And Dumpling,” Zuli said after a moment. “Suki, Shen and Dumpling.”

“Dumpling is an ostrich horse,” Sokka pointed out with infinite patience. “She doesn’t get to
take part in meetings. How would she vote?”

Shen could hear Suki snorting as she attempted to hold back her giggles.

“I can vote for her,” Zuli said.

“No! How is that fair?”

“I have two hands! I can vote for both of us.”

“That’s not how voting works!” Sokka’s voice had hit a high register. Then he sighed loudly,
out through the nose. “But you know that. Have I ever told you I hate your sense of
humour?”

“I don’t,” Suki said, still giggling. “Did you see his face, Zu?” She started laughing again.
Shen made sure his head was buried in his arm, so they didn’t see him smile.

“Fine, fine,” Sokka grumbled. “Laugh it up. All in favour of Suki and Shen?”

“And Dumpling.”

Another resigned sigh. “And Dumpling joining the team, say aye.”

Both the boys said, “Aye,” very solemnly.

“We have to ask Shen, of course,” Sokka continued. “So he doesn’t get voting rights until
tomorrow, due to being asleep, and Dumpling gets none, because of being a bird. No
arguing!”

“Okay,” Zuli said, still with his very serious voice. “Suki, as a new member, I would like to
propose we vote Sokka off the team and rename it literally anything else. All in favour, say,
aye.”

“No! you can’t do that!”

“Aye!” Suki said with enthusiasm. “I’ll think of an illustrious name for us.”

“I’m a founding member! You can’t vote me off! You double crossing bastard.” There were
the sounds of what seemed like a scuffle. Shen wondered if he should ‘wake up’ and stop
them. He didn’t want Zuli getting more injured.

“Careful of his head,” Suki admonished, saving him the trouble. “We’ve only just stuck it
back together.”

“Okay, that’s fair,” Sokka said, a little winded sounding. “Instead, I propose I beat you up
after you’re healed. A deferred beating.”

“You can try.”

“One day, I might even succeed. You never know. In the meantime. Take your herbs and
sleep, you stubborn brat!”

“No!”

Shen shut his eyes with another grin. It was going to be a long night.

………….

On the road, they had stripped Tu of his burned uniform, and forced him into rough prison
gear made for an adult man. They had laughed at him, swimming in the shirt. When his pants
had kept falling down, tripping him whenever he had tried to walk, they had given him a
smaller pair. Probably for the sake of not having to pick him up off the floor again.

They had cut his hair too. Shorn him like a cow-sheep, but with considerably less skill. They
had laughed as they had done it, mocked the mess they had made of it. The back of his head
was burned in places and it itched and ached and stung.

He’d been burnt before, but nothing like this, at least the ones on his arms had been roughly
treated and bandaged. No doubt in an effort to keep him alive long enough to execute him.

After two days, they had arrived at a prison camp. It was like nothing Tu had ever seen, huge
and sprawling, almost like a town, divided into streets, with solidly erected buildings. They
looked a little like cattle sheds. The smell was worse, so many unwashed bodies. It wasn’t
just the stink though, which hit like a wave, the whole place felt overwhelming, menacing
and bleak.

Tu didn’t want to die here. At the hands of his own people.

He was forced to wait in line while prisoners were divided and sorted. Say what you wanted
about this place, but it was organised.

“What do we do with the little deserter?” one man said. He didn’t look at Tu, completely
disinterested.

“They’re sending us kids now?” A second man gazed at Tu with disgust, but it wasn’t clear if
that was because of his crimes, or because of his age. “It’s not surprising they desert when
they're barely off their mother’s tit.” The man continued to frown at him before spitting on
the floor. “The army isn’t a fucking nursery,” he concluded with annoyance.

“They don’t want him to survive,” the other said, his voice dispassionate. “His father was
hung for treason, the kid deserted—you can see the thinking.”

“So we get to execute a child? Nah.” Spit guy said. “That’s all kinds of bad luck right there.”

Tu really hoped so. He was making a list. It was worse when they thought he was younger.
Who did this to kids?

“There are other ways to make sure the job gets done,” first guy said with a shrug. “Got
plenty of people who hate us, let's give them the opportunity to get some of that anger out.”

“Alright, go lock him up in the Earth Kingdom army pens, and let’s see if he survives until
morning.”

The fact they were just discussing the best and most convenient way to kill him without
getting blood on their hands was dizzying. Did they think orchestrating his death was any
better? Did they think they wouldn’t be judged for this too?

There was a feeling growing in Tu’s chest that was dangerously close to hate. It was the
casual cruelty; letting him overhear, the way Fujio had spat on him and deliberately burnt
him. The way these men only worried about killing a kid when it came to the possible bad
luck associated with such an action.

A man dragged him forward, out into the dirt paths between the huts. Tu had not been
planning to speak, partly because he didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of
acknowledging them and partly because he was worried he might start crying. But actually,
when it came to it, being dragged towards a shed full of terrifying savages who would kill
him for his birth alone, he decided he had cried all his tears, and all that was left was
simmering anger.

So he found his tongue wouldn’t keep quiet. “Letting other people do your dirty work for you
doesn’t absolve you of the crime,” he snapped.

The soldier holding him by his burnt arm tightened his grip, making him gasp with a wave of
almost overwhelming pain.

“Shut up. I don’t give a shit about absolution.”

“So why not just kill me now?”

“Orders,” the man said with another squeeze. The other man spat on the floor again, not
bothering to reply.

Tu fought back a pained noise. “Seems like a lot of trouble to make someone else do it then.”

The man shook him, making his body lurch from side to side and his head snap forward on
his neck, the burns and bruises hurt. “They hate our kind,” the man said. His smile was dark
and pleased. “I heard that on the front, captured Earth soldiers got dressed up in Fire Nation
uniforms and then we let their own troops kill them.”

The other man frowned. Perhaps he was as equally appalled as Tu was at someone admitting
their army could do something so horrible and unfair. “Funny,” other guy said, with genuine
confusion. “I heard it was the Earth Kingdom did that.”

Ah, that’s what it was. Tu would bet he had been appalled at the idea when it had been the
Earth Kingdom doing it.

“Either way, it’s a pretty sad way to die. And not dissimilar to what’s going to happen to you,
little coward. You’re going in with the captured soldiers. It’s close quarters. How long do you
think until they notice this hot skin?” He squeezed again and a pained noise escaped, despite
Tu’s best effort.

“They don’t take prisoners. You’ll be ripped apart.”

“Maybe if you bend, you’ll live,” one man mused.

Yeah, right. Nothing would be more likely to get him killed.

“There are Earthbenders in there, but they’ve been crippled. Maybe you’ll stand a chance.”

“He won’t. I bet you two gold pieces. There’s enough of them. Even bending won’t save
him.” He leered down at Tu, grip still firm on his arm. “Maybe they’ll strangle you, maybe
beat you to death. Either way, we will be clearing out your pathetic little corpse come
morning.”

That’s what they thought. Tu had every intention of proving them wrong. That was two gold
pieces he did not intend to let this man claim.

The smell in the holding building was staggering. Unwashed bodies, sickness, and stale air.
The man dragged him down the centre, between the two long cages. Each one could probably
fit fifty or sixty beds comfortably. But each looked like it contained double or treble that
many men. A few jeered, but Tu thought they were heckling the soldiers, not him. As far as
they knew, he was Earth; his eyes were dark brown, his hair had been shorn, but so had the
other prisoners here. The only thing that could give him away was the heat of his skin.

The guards brought him right to the end. He could see why they thought he would not be able
to avoid physical contact. There was barely any room sitting. If you lay down to sleep, you
would end up rubbing shoulders with at least one other person.
“Good luck,” the guard said with a sneer and shoved him into the open gate. As soon as the
man’s fingers left his skin, Tu reached for his inner fire. It was warm, all-encompassing. He
gathered the heat of it, as it danced near his skin, held it for a moment like it was a dear
friend, and then he ‘breathed’ it out through his feet.

It was a risk. He had never tried to bend while doing this and he didn’t know if it made any
difference, so if he had to fight, it might leave him in a dangerous position. But he could
sustain it for long periods of time.

When he and Hua had been younger, they shared a bed for many years. Hua couldn’t sleep
with him radiating heat all the time, so he’d figured out a way to fix it.

He had not expected it to have any other sort of application. But he had decided he was going
to live, just to spite those men. He would do whatever it took.

“Hey kid? You okay?” a man asked. He was stocky and short with a wide, bearded face. His
voice was rough, and he sounded like he was from the Earth Kingdom. He appeared
concerned rather than murderous. Tu’s short stature could work in his favour here. As long as
he kept his head, he could survive this.

Tu breathed out through his feet, keeping his chi even, and nodded.

“Fuck,” another man said, from further back. “How old is he?”

“Come here.” The first man beckoned with one big hand. “We’ll clear a spot for you, stick
you in with the other babies.” He jerked his thumb at a much younger guy sitting next to him.

“I resent that,” the young guy said. His round face was pinched with pain. He only looked a
few years older than Tu, under the dirt.

“You hurt?” the first man asked, as Tu approached them cautiously.

“A bit,” Tu said. As he shuffled closer. He held out a bandaged, burnt arm. Only the deep,
blistered bits had been treated, so the kind of injury was still obvious.

“Sit, let me look at it. I’m Lieutenant Guo, of the 54th. Or whatever’s left of it.” He
grimaced.

“Haoyu,” the young guy said. He looked in a bad way close up and there was a smell that
indicated something very wrong, just on the edge of being putrid. He was sweating and a
little feverish looking. But he smiled through it. He looked kind, in a way Tu had not really
expected Earth Kingdom soldiers to look. But really, there was not much in the way of
physical difference between them and the men who had forced him in here.

Tu sat down carefully and held his arm out to Guo. Almost too scared to breathe as the man
took it in his big, callused hand to check the damage. He didn’t comment on the heat, or give
him any funny looks, just gently inspected it.

“They burn you anywhere else?” Guo asked.

“Some on my back. On my head.” He turned so the man could see.

Guo shifted him further and pulled his shirt up to look at Tu’s back. “We only have a little
salve, but it’s dirty in here. We need to make sure these are kept clean.” he smoothed
something soothing and cool over the burns. The lessening of the pain was shocking. He had
grown so used to it. “Fucking savages” Guo muttered.

His new position left Tu facing Haoyu. His hands were bandaged at the wrists and were
sitting awkwardly in his lap. His feet were bare and similarly bandaged. “They’re broken,”
Haoyu said. “To stop me bending.”

“Oh.” Tu was full of horror. He had been raised on the greatness of his people. But this?
Everything since the soldiers had come for him had opened his eyes. “Are you in much
pain?” he asked. Stupid question, really, and the smell meant something was infected in the
wounds too. He was very unlikely to survive long term in imprisonment.

“Yeah. I would like to say it’s gotten better, but it hasn’t.”

“We’re going to figure something out,” Guo said gruffly.

Tu didn’t think they would. Not in time to save Haoyu’s life. The thought hurt for some
reason. Maybe because it had been so long since someone had shown him kindness. The fact
it was from captured enemy soldiers and under false pretences didn’t really matter.

“How did you end up here?” Tu asked as Guo gently lowered his shirt back down over the
newly treated burns.

The older man sat back a little. “Got taken in an ambush. Some killed. I hope some escaped,
but...” he breathed out, a sound full of resigned sadness. “But I’m not counting on it. They
took the captain to be questioned. Didn’t bring him back.”

“Maybe he’ll be okay. Maybe they just took him somewhere else,” Haoyu said with a
surprising amount of optimism.

“He was a good captain?” Tu asked. The grief on the man’s face was obvious. But it seemed
strange, as his own experiences with military types had not been good.

“Yeah. Yeah, he was a good captain. And a good man. Not often you get both those things.
Knew him from when he was your age. Just an angry kid. Watched him make something of
himself.”

Tu didn’t know what to say. It felt like everyone had lost people. Was still losing them. It felt
very pointless.

“Talking of angry kids, where are you from?” Haoyu asked. “His accent is kind of similar to
Zuli’s, don’t you think, Guo?”

Tu froze. He hadn’t thought of that, although they clearly didn’t realise they were talking
about a Fire Nation accent. “The colonies,” he said. He hoped they wouldn’t react badly to
that. “Who’s Zuli? Your girlfriend?” he asked in a desperate attempt at distraction.
 Guo snorted, and Haoyu blinked at him. “Zuli’s a boy. The captain rescued him from some
soldiers.”

Tu made a face. “Zuli’s a girl’s name.”

Guo chuckled. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s not his real name. I think he may have got muddled
when introducing himself. Perhaps trying to hide he was from the colonies.”

From the Fire Nation more like, if he shared Tu’s accent. Although they had said sort of like,
so maybe he was from wherever he had told them. Or maybe he was someone like Tu, who
was no longer welcome in his homeland.

He watched the two men carefully. But neither seemed suspicious.

If he kept calm, and kept his head, then Tu might make that stupid guard lose his two gold
pieces after all.

Chapter End Notes

Here is a link to OC character descriptions, as requested by various people on tumblr/in

the comments :) Let me know if you want more info, or to add any of the others.

Next Chapter: A rescue mission is underway! Sokka is faced with the realisation that
Suki and Zuko on the same team may give him a stress related heart attack, and Tu's
situation continues to evolve. Shen is just happy to find an adult to talk to for once.
 Chapter 21
Chapter Summary

“I don’t think you can be cursed with a plague of teenagers, Captain,”

Chapter Notes

Thank you for all the lovely comments and kudos!

Warnings: Discussion and thoughts about suicide, references to masturbation and sexual
experimentation, violence, burns, blood, injury

Many thanks to my beta burkesl17, who has managed to wrangle my dyslexic nonsense.
All mistakes are my own.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

They were on their way to East Lake. The decision had been made, with no argument and
little discussion, as both Suki and Shen wanted to rescue their lost people and neither Zuko or
Sokka would let them go alone. Although Sokka had shared what information he’d found
during his daring raid on Tsing’s private office. It was the first chance they’d had to discuss
it, and Zuko had watched him carefully as he failed to mention Iroh.

After that, they hadn't had much time alone to talk about it further.

Until now.

They were taking turns to ride Dumpling, two at a time, and Suki and Shen were ahead
arguing about the best way to cross the river again.

“So there was nothing? “Zuko asked. He was riding in front and his body was tense where
they touched.

“No. No record of an execution, or even an arrest. When I asked the woman I’d captured, she
claimed she hadn’t heard anything about him being taken at all. She could have been lying,
but I don’t see why she would have bothered when she told the truth about the rest.”

“You think Zhao was just trying to hurt me?” Zuko’s voice was tight with hope.

“He could have been, yeah. I think in this instance, no news is good news.”
“So where is he? How can I find him?”

Sokka chewed his lip. “I was thinking of heading to Ba Sing Se after this rescue, assuming
we don’t all die horribly. I want to find my sister, and it seems like a good place for news.”
He didn’t mention Aang, although the implication was obvious.

Zuko nodded. “That sounds sensible.” He lowered his voice a little, almost speaking to
himself. “I wonder if he would head there?”

“Well, it’s one of the safest places in the Earth Kingdom.” Or, it would be, if it wasn’t likely
to be attacked and fought over like a scrap of meat by starving dogs.

“That’s not why. My cousin, my uncle's son, he died there. I wonder if Uncle might return.”

“Oh.” Sokka hadn’t really thought about the rest of Zuko’s family. He knew he had a cousin
that died, but for some reason hadn’t really associated him with Iroh. “I guess with your
apparent loss, he might. If he’s the kind of man for sentiment or doing penance of some sort.”

“He is.” Zuko leaned back into Sokka’s arms a little. And Sokka tightened his grip around his
waist, enjoying the contact for what it was; a little comfort. It was almost time to switch out
and let Suki and Shen have a go on Dumpling. Something the cantankerous ostrich horse
hated and complained about using savage nips from her beak and a lot of angry yelling. She
took a long time to warm up to people, it seemed, much like her master.

The fact Zuko would most likely travel with him to the city filled Sokka with a sensation of
incredible relief. He had sort of assumed his friend would just stick with him after—where
else did he have to go? But to have it more or less confirmed felt good.

Sokka’s mind drifted back once again to his conversation with Suki about his relationship
with Zuko. He had been thinking about it a lot. Too much, maybe. It was making him
consider how they were with each other in a way that made him a little uncomfortable. He
didn’t want to analyse it—but it was his nature to poke at things, turn them around in his
mind like a puzzle, and then worry about them.

He had avoided looking too closely at his feelings simply because they were so intense. He
didn’t want them to feel wrong or bad because he was over thinking. To be honest, he was
still a little conflicted, and he still had worries and doubts about Zuko’s future, what he might
do. There had been a huge amount of movement on his opinions and attitude about peoples
other than his own, but it still wasn’t explicit, he still hadn’t turned against his nation, or even
his father.

Which was why Sokka still hadn’t mentioned the real reason he had to go to Ba Sing Se. He
would, though. Maybe after the rescue.

He would.

He tore himself away from that line of thought and returned to his anxiety about the other
thing. Suki hadn’t stopped with her gentle mockery over their relationship and the way it
looked to her. The little jabs seemed to go right over Zuko’s head, of course, but Sokka got
them. Shen did too, from the level of amusement he showed every time. She pretty much
accused them of braiding each other’s hair and being one step away from betrothal jewellery
during every conversation he had with her.

He wondered what Zuko thought about the closeness. He didn’t seem overly bothered with it,
which was strange considering how stiff and awkward he had been at the beginning, during
that first hug on the boat. Perhaps it was because he had never experienced anything like this
either, having grown up the way he had. Maybe they were both suffering from never having
had a friend their own age before. Plus all the shared trauma and protective feelings between
them. It could certainly be misinterpreted from the outside, but at least they were on the same
page.

That made him feel a little better about things. Although he had been thinking about Yue a lot
too. He was concerned that his feelings for her were more like those in a story, a fairytale,
like Suki had suggested, rather than reality. It felt like they were being eclipsed by everything
going on, dimmed by the intensity of his relationship with Zuko.

But he would not give that closeness up, not unless Zuko made it clear he wanted distance or
something, which probably wouldn’t happen unless he caught on to Suki’s sneaky
insinuations. But with Zuko being denser than the mountain they were currently crossing, he
probably didn’t have to worry too much on that account.

The sleeping thing had become less awkward too, thankfully, because that was another thing
he had decided not to give up. The problem had sort of solved itself in the cave, as they
hadn’t wanted to risk smoke from a fire and as they only had the one blanket, they all slept in
a pile of warm bodies. It was kind of amazing. Sokka had Zuko on one side and Suki on the
other, solid and comforting.

Zuko slept between him and Shen, and the fact he was apparently okay with that had been a
surprise. Sokka thought Shen had more trouble with it, at least at first. Although the man was
clearly working hard to control his reactions, he was obviously still a bit freaked out by the
firebending thing. He seemed to be genuinely frightened of it in a way Sokka and Suki were
not. Perhaps because of his long experience fighting the Fire Nation, or perhaps from some
past experience that had scarred him. Sokka didn’t know, but as long as he didn’t take it out
on Zuko, or act unfairly towards him, then a bit of fear and jumpiness was understandable
and acceptable.

The relationship between Shen and Zuko seemed to have managed to overcome this rather
glaring problem, despite the deceptions and the anxiety. Zuko was accepting small amounts
of physical affection, shoulder pats and hair ruffles mostly, but the odd one-armed hug had
snuck in too. Shen seemed to be making an effort to desensitise himself to Zuko’s proximity,
and it had resulted in the surprising effect of desensitising Zuko to his own.

Sokka was aware that he was feeling some things about that. Something a little close to
jealousy. He was trying hard not to let it seep into his words and actions, as he didn’t want to
cause any issues in their relationship, now it was healing and improving. After some
consideration, he had decided it wasn’t their closeness that was getting to him. In fact, it had
nothing to do with either of them at all. It was about his dad, and Sokka’s wish he could have
that kind of relationship with him again. He had been so angry, so emotional, he had pushed
his father away, and now with physical distance between them, he was regretting it. Although
he couldn’t honestly say he wouldn’t behave the same way if they met up with the tribe again
tomorrow.

He wished he could stop his thoughts as they rode, it made for an uncomfortable journey.

Sokka had been worried about how things would turn out when they reached East Lake,
considering what they were about to attempt was probably insane. When he got his first look
at the compound, he realised it was even worse. East Lake prison camp was enormous,
sprawling and daunting. The tall walls were lit with torches that looked menacing even from
a distance. They had stopped high up, overlooking the camp from the western side, where the
mountain offered a more scalable slope and it offered something of an uncompromising view
of East Lake in all its threatening glory.

They decided to camp right away, as there wasn’t much to be done with night closing in.
They couldn’t even risk Zuko’s flame in the dark, so they ate a cold meal of jerky and slightly
overripe fruit.

Sokka was finding it hard to focus on anything but the looming task they had before them.
How were they going to get in? How were they going to free anyone without getting caught?
There must be hundreds of people there. He vaguely hoped the camp would look less
intimidating in the morning, but he knew it probably wouldn’t.

“So then my brother and I hid a fish head in his tent,” Shen said, drawing Sokka’s attention
away from his spiralling thoughts.

Suki laughed. She was smiling widely from where she was sitting cross-legged, back to a
tree. “I knew I liked you for a reason. How long did it take for him to find it?”

“Far too long. I sewed it into his favourite sash.”

“Who did you torment?” Sokka asked, curious, and already grinning despite himself.

“Yao, when he was a lowly lieutenant. He never proved it was me, but he knew.” Shen
looked smug.

Zuko shifted, his head cocked to the side a little. “Didn’t he have bodyguards or something?
If he’s nobly born?”

“Nah, there are guards about, but no one watching that close. Even Huang doesn’t, and he’s
also from a rich family and higher up in the food chain.”

“Why not? Seems risky to leave your leaders open to assassination. Chief Hakoda has one.
So will Sokka when he becomes chief.” Zuko turned to Sokka and frowned at him
threateningly. “Won’t you?” It sounded more like an order than a question.

“I’ll have a what?” Sokka asked, feeling a little lost.

“A bodyguard. Like Bato is for your dad.”

Sokka lowered the piece of jerky he was about to stick in his mouth. “There’s a lot to get into
here,” he said, amused. “Firstly, there is no guarantee I will be chief one day.”

“Why not? Why would they pass over you? Is it because Katara is a bender?” Zuko sounded
both indignant and angry. “That’s unfair.”

“Er, no? It’s because we don’t inherit the position.”

Zuko gave him a beautiful confused face, still with his head cocked like a puppy.

“What gives someone the right to be the leader just because they are born into it?” Sokka
continued, warming to the subject. “I mean, just look at the Fire Nation. You get an arsehole
like Sozin. Then he passes his arseholery down to his kid, who takes over no matter what
people want, adds some crazy into the mix and then spawns Ozai. Who is also crazy and an
arsehole. And so it continues.” He tore off a piece of his jerky with his teeth. “It’s a fucked up
system.” He lowered his voice and leaned closer so only Zuko could hear. “No offence.”

“Offence very much taken,” Zuko muttered back, keeping his voice blessedly quiet.

Sokka raised his own again, winking at Suki, who at least must have an inkling about the
exchange. “That’s fair, but also I don’t care.”

Shen didn’t seem to have picked up on anything. He was carefully darning a hole in his shirt.

“So then what, someone just decides to lead?” Zuko asked a little causticly.

“No, there’s a council of important people, which might include healers, perhaps a head
tradesman, the folk who are involved in the daily running and protection of the village and
the tribe. They elect the people they think should lead and put it to the rest of the village.
Then they vote for which one they want.” He squinted at Shen. Sokka wondered if he could
persuade him to sew up some holes in his socks. Neither he nor Zuko could do more than
stab themselves with a needle, and repairs were getting more necessary by the day.

“So what happens if the person they elect is no good?” Zuko asked, like it was some kind of
gotcha.

“If people think they are doing a crap job, they vote to remove them. I want to be on the
council when I’m older. I want to help the way my dad does, but all I can do to achieve that is
to work hard and hope they accept me and think I’m worthy.” He shrugged, sorting through
the pack of his own spare clothes. Perhaps he could just ask. But if that didn’t work, begging
and emotional manipulation were also valid options. “I have never been in any doubt that
Katara will end up on the council someday, but not because she is a bender.” She was just
that kind of person; giving, opinionated, bossy, and compassionate. The perfect fit.

Zuko seemed to be puzzling through this idea. It was taking some time to filter through the
grey matter, but he was clearly thinking about it.

“So if someone abuses their power, the people can just…get rid of them?”
“Yup. Although it’s a lot more complicated than I’m making it sound. There are protocols
and stuff.” He set aside the clothes that passed muster. “Shen, when you’re done with that,
would you be able to do a sock for me?”

Shen looked up at him, needle still in hand. “Sure, pass it over.”

Sokka chucked him a balled wad of at least seven socks that needed attention. Shen caught it
with a sour expression. “Perhaps you need help with your maths, Sokka,” he said, sorting
through them with distaste. “This is not a sock. ‘A’ implies one.”

Sokka grinned at him, then continued speaking to Zuko in the hopes he would just let it go, as
Sokka was busy educating. “Also, although the leader can make the last call and direct
things, really, it is the council that gets things done. They can vote amongst themselves to
veto the chief’s decisions.”

“Veto,” Zuko muttered.

Sokka thought he might have blown Zuko’s mind with that concept.

“You said there was lots to get into? Socks and maths aside.” Suki raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, well, secondly, Bato isn’t a bodyguard. We don’t have those either.”

“Why does he sleep in your dad’s tent, then?” Zuko got that look of frustration he had when
something he thought made sense turned out to be confusing.

Sokka gave a baffled look of slight disbelief. “Because they’re together,” he said slowly.

“Of course they are, how can he protect the chief if they’re not together?”

Sokka stared at him. Shen had his lips clamped shut and had gone a bit red in the face, clearly
attempting to hold back the laughter. And Suki, who had been unaware of his dad’s
relationship but had clearly understood the nuance of the conversation, was staring at the
dusty ground with a fixed expression that clearly indicated she was also only a moment away
from exploding with mirth. The silence stretched.

“What?” Zuko demanded.

Sokka debated trying to be clearer, seeing as the fact his father and Bato shared a bedroll
seemed to have passed Zuko by, despite spending quite a lot of time in their tent. But then, he
only saw what he expected to see a lot of the time.

The realisation he didn’t know made things a little different, Sokka was honestly not sure
how he would react, considering his experiences. He didn’t really know how people in the
Fire Nation thought of such things. So he went with the easy option. “You know what, never
mind. Yes, he’s my dad’s bodyguard.”

Zuko looked both pleased he had been correct and annoyed that Sokka had confused him.
“I can only hope I have a bodyguard like that one day,” Sokka added, making Shen chuckle.
His tactic seemed to have born fruit, as Shen was working on the pile of socks now. “Hey
Suki? You want to be my bodyguard when we’re older?” Sokka wagged his eyebrows. He
figured they knew where they stood, so he could joke about it without her getting upset or the
wrong idea.

She scoffed at him. “No? I will have much more important things to do than protect your
dumb arse. Besides, I think I might know the right man for the job.” She wagged her own
eyebrows. “I can run Team Steam, though. You know, the name is growing on me.”

“Traitor,” Zuko muttered.

Suki poked him with a finger. He looked like he might bite it off. She looked like she would
love him to try.

Shen looked like he was going to bust a gut laughing.

Sokka felt warm and happy, like the problems they were facing were suddenly surmountable.
He was so lucky to have these idiots as his friends.

The next morning they looked at the camp in full daylight and the warm, happy feeling felt
like a distant memory. Sokka handed the telescope to Shen, whose face was set in a calmness
that was obviously maintained with effort.

This was going to be impossible. There were hundreds of people. Prisoners and guards, with
almost constant comings and goings. The place was a hive.

Zuko seemed unbothered as he sat cross-legged and sharpened his swords. Sokka sank down
beside him, their knees touching.

Suki looked lost in thought, only shaking herself back to awareness when Shen joined them.
He looked mildly concerned as he handed back the telescope, which probably meant he was
freaking out.

“Does someone have a plan?” Sokka asked eventually. “Because I can’t see any way this is
something four people and an ostrich horse can do.”

“We can do it. We can break in.” Zuko’s voice was pure confidence. The harsh noise of his
work with the whetstone a constant uninterrupted sound. It was grating on Sokka’s ears.

“No, we can’t, not without a plan, and I’ve got nothing.”

“I think we can,” Suki added, unhelpfully. She also sounded confident and calm.

“No! No, how are there two of you? Four people can’t take on a huge prison camp. Even if
we snuck in, how would we get out? How would we get our friends out?” Sokka huffed out
an agitated breath. “It’s impossible.” He flopped backwards, staring up at the few visible stars
in the cloudy sky.

“We’ll have to be sneaky,” Shen said, but he also didn’t sound like he was full of certainty.
He was eyeing Zuko like he thought he might hare off and break in by himself. “Maybe if we
could get two of us over the walls? We could at least see what’s going on in there. If we could
get a guard’s uniform?”

Sokka sat up. “That could work. That could get all of us in.” He narrowed his eyes as ideas
started forming, now he had a focus point rather than just something so big and
overwhelming to work with.

Shen gave him a speculative look. “Go on.”

“When we broke into Lao Fort, Li gave me a bunch of advice, some of which was helpful.”

Zuko paused in his sword sharpening to give him a scowl. “It was all helpful.”

Sokka ignored him. “He said the best disguise is to look and act like you belong. And people
don’t see you.”

“That’s true.” Suki said. Although Sokka wasn’t sure if she actually had any breaking and
entering experience or just thought it sounded sensible.

“It’s a prison camp, right? So two guards and two prisoners. If we got the appropriate
uniforms. There are a lot of people, that much we have already seen. There’s no way they
know all the people coming in and out.”

“Do you think they will buy two of us as guards?” Suki asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, because we will make them buy it.” Sokka could feel his voice gaining strength as he
became more excited. “Li can firebend. As long as we make that obvious right from the start,
it’s going to make them accept whoever’s with him—which I think should be Shen. You’re
an adult, and you have military bearing.”

Shen nodded, although he still didn’t look fully convinced. “I may have military training, but
what if it’s different in the Fire Nation?”

“I grew up around the military,” Zuko said. Tapping a finger against his chin. “I can teach
you the right things to say, and how to say them. We can choose a commander for you if they
ask.”

“How about Captain Kazuma?” Suki said with a smirky grin, fulfilling her promise to never
let that drop.

Shen shot her a withering look. “Enough about that.”

“Oh no, I will never stop ribbing you for that one. You’ll have to put me in the ground first.”

“Enough about what?” Zuko asked, annoyed again.

“Nothing,” Shen said firmly. “We can use Kazuma’s name. He’s stationed close enough they
will have heard of him, and we’ve met, so I can make it believable if I’m questioned.”

Zuko didn’t look mollified, but like everything else he didn’t understand, he opted to just
plough on with what he did know. “Can you copy my accent?” he asked.

It was a good idea. Sokka assumed that Zuko’s accent was one of privilege, it would add
weight to their story. The more authority they could give Shen, the more people would
believe he was supposed to be there, and perceived money and nobility would do the trick.

“Yeah, I guess?” Shen said. “With some practice.”

“Then we would have to break people out,” Suki said. “How will we do that? We won’t know
what kind of state they’re in, and we won’t be able to sneak them out.”

“Blow stuff up,” Zuko offered, a little predictably. “Cause a distraction.”

Sokka was getting enthused. He could feel the ideas forming, like slippery eels shored up in a
net. “If we let everyone out at the same time, it would cause chaos. With the last of our
blasting pellets, it could be even better, especially if they also have some jelly, like at Lao
Fort.” He paused. Unarmed prisoners fighting guards would result in a lot of deaths.

“It could be a bloodbath,” Suki said, echoing his thoughts. She didn’t sound happy about it,
but she wasn’t saying no, either. She shrugged. “But I guess at least some people would make
it.”

“At least they have the choice,” Shen added. “Many people will be facing execution anyway.
Or work in the mines until they die. I know what I would prefer. We could give them a
chance.”

Zuko looked conflicted. “They will be unarmed. Against firebenders. It…there has to be
another way.” Of course Zuko, who had suggested blowing half the compound up and who
set villages on fire without even thinking about it, was concerned about possible casualties.
Sokka was pretty sure as much as he knew about him, he would never actually figure out
what went on in his head.

“I don’t think there is,” Shen said, solemnly. “It’s war.” People die.

“We can try to arm them, perhaps?” Sokka suggested. “If we could figure out where they
keep the weapons they confiscate. We could at least leave some accessible.”

... And focus on saving the people they cared about. Fuck, but it wasn’t fair to leave the rest
to the wolves. Some of his excitement waned. They would be his responsibility. His plan, his
body count.

“We need more information,” Zuko said decisively. “We have to get inside, see the layout.
That way we can see what the issues might be, where the blasting jelly is, where the weapons
are, the best points to bring the walls down. We can’t do that from outside.”

“And how do you propose we do that, Zuli?” Shen asked with a great deal of suspicion.
Zuko shrugged. “Tomorrow night I’ll go in, over the wall. Have a look.”

“Just like that?”

“Yeah, why not?”

Now they would see what Sokka had to put up with. Just mosey over the wall into a huge
prison camp? Piece of cake.

“Sounds good,” Suki said.

Okay, so now Shen would understand. Suki was clearly as bonkers as Zuko.

“I don’t like this plan,” Shen said, scoring a point for team Having A Brain Cell.

“Tough,” Zuko told him. “I’m good at this. I have the most experience. I’m doing it.”

“You can’t just decide to do something like that!”

“I can, and I have. How are you going to stop me?” Zuko said, staring the bigger man down.
Sokka sighed.

Shen opened his mouth to protest. Completely pointlessly in Sokka’s opinion, as trying to
stop Zuko would probably be impossible unless you sat on him for the next decade.

Zuko rode over the top of him anyway. “I broke into the North Pole and kidnapped the Avatar
without anyone noticing. I mean, they noticed the kidnapping, but not the breaking in. I broke
into Pohuai Stronghold too.”

“Didn’t you get shot in the head doing that?” Suki pointed out, seemingly just for the sake of
arguing with him, as she was clearly on his side in this one.

“Yes, but only after they noticed the Avatar missing.”

“People noticing the fact you kidnapped the Avatar seems to have been your undoing on
numerous occasions,” Shen said wryly.

“Yeah? Well, you try abducting a chatty, super powered twelve-year-old, see if you do any
better,” Zuko said sourly.

Sokka put his head in his hands.

“Did you actually rescue the Avatar, or were you just trying to kidnap him again?” Shen
asked, momentarily distracted.

Sokka rubbed his face. “I can’t believe you told him that.” The humorous way Shen said it,
made it sound like something quirky and funny Zuko had been doing, rather than terrifying
and potentially disastrous for the war effort, so clearly he had not told Shen why he was
trying to kidnap him or what he intended to do when he got him.
Zuko ignored the question, still stuck on his argument. “I’m good at this,” he said again,
insistent. “I broke into Lao Fort when Tsing and his soldiers were there. Twice, and got
myself out with no one noticing.”

“You are good at sneaking,” Sokka interrupted before he could add any more of his burglary
greatest hits. “Which is very weird considering your personality.” He thought about it some
more. He didn’t like this idea either, but if this plan was going to work, then they would need
that information, he wasn’t wrong about that. “You have a great visual memory, so you can
draw us plans of the interior. I say we try it.” He hoped he would not regret that choice.

Shen was scowling at him. “Do I get a say in this?”

“No, outvoted,” Zuko said.

“You are,” Suki agreed. “Sorry, Shen. He’s got the best chance, I think. And being somewhat
familiar with Fire Nation nonsense, if he gets caught he might be able to bullshit his way
clear.”

“Yeah, you haven’t seen him try to lie,” Sokka said with a grimace. “But even so, if he gets
caught, we will just have to add him to the rescue list.” He leaned back on one hand prayed as
hard as he could that wouldn’t be the case, because if it was, they were fucked. They needed
that information, and they needed Zuko and his swords.

Shen looked annoyed at being outvoted by kids, but he could obviously see they were
speaking sense, it was just his desire to protect Zuko that was holding him back.

Sokka felt that stirring of jealousy again.

“I’ll pick up uniforms,” Zuko offered, like he was discussing shopping in the market. He
didn’t seem anxious or concerned at all. He genuinely believed he could pull this off, no
problems.

“Let’s sleep. We have tomorrow to practise the accent,” Sokka said. It wasn’t really in his
nature to trust luck, but he was going to have to.

The next morning Zuko started attempting to teach Shen to speak like Fire Nation nobility.
They were rehearsing lines, and they were crap at it.

Shen was quite good and mimicking Zuko, perhaps a little too good, as he kept copying his
voice as well as his accent, which meant he was picking up the slight lisp. The more annoyed
Zuko got about it, the more pronounced it became. It was clear Shen was not trying to mock
him, but Sokka could see Zuko was getting wound up by it regardless.

As noisy as they were getting, Sokka listened without interrupting. He liked the sound of
Zuko’s voice, even when it was rising like he might start yelling at any moment. It was weird
to think he used to hate it. Although at the time he did mostly communicate with shouting
and threats.

“You’re doing it on purpose!”

“I’m not! Just speak slower!”

Sokka grinned a little to himself. He liked the raspy lisp too. He loved when Zuko was tried
and it became more obvious, the way he slurred his syllables together a little. It was a tiny
vulnerability Sokka was allowed to see, which meant a lot. And he found the sound of it
soothing, even pleasant. It was uniquely Zuko.

He was doing it again. He glared at the back of Suki’s head as she bent to pick up her sword.
This was her fault.

He sighed, a little miserably.

“You want to scout with me, Sokka?” She asked, leaning down and flicking the side of his
head. “Or are you just going to sit here making eyes at your very platonic bosom buddy?”

“Shut up, you,” he muttered. “You’re not helping.”

“Helping with what? I love to help.”

Sokka pushed himself up and brushed dirt off the back of his pants. “You love to make me
suffer, is what you love.”

“That too.” She grinned and turned to look at the other two members of their party.

“Say it properly!” Zuko was snarling.

“I’m trying!”

Sokka considered them. “Do you think it’s safe to leave them?”

“Of course. Let’s go.”

Sokka wasn’t sure if she was another crazy optimist, or if she just didn’t care if they strangled
each other. But he couldn’t stay and supervise them all day. He collected the telescope and his
boomerang, just in case they got lucky, and strapped on his sword in case they got unlucky,
then followed Suki out into the forest.

It smelt fresh and green, like the ground after rain. Despite the lurking fear of what they were
going to attempt to do, it felt a little lighter than when they had been hiding from Ro in the
cave. A little less oppressive.

“So, how did your conversation with Shen go the other day? Did you get the answers you
were looking for?” Suki asked.
“Yeah,” Sokka said, catching a branch heading for his face as she pushed through the
underbrush.

“You going to share with me what the questions were?”

“Personal ones, Suki.”

She turned to eye him like she could figure it out. And Sokka was suddenly very worried that
she would, that she could somehow read his mind.

“Did you ask for relationship advice?” she teased, proving he had not been completely off
base in his concerns. Unfortunately, it came so close to the truth that Sokka could feel his
face start to heat.

“Oh ho, you did?” She sounded delighted.

“No,” he protested. “It wasn’t…. it wasn’t anything good. Just some stuff I needed to know.
And it’s not a good teasing subject. I’m going to veto this one.”

She looked at him steadily for a moment, clearly adding that to wherever she was storing the
snippets of information he had been letting slip. “Okay. Instead, why don’t you tell me about
something really horribly dumb Zuko has done.”

“Oh, that I can do. Something like throwing a bucket of piss on an Admiral?”

“Yes, perfect. Tell me about that!”

Sokka recounted the story, with some poetic licence, painting himself as a sassy spectator,
and not quite as terrified and useless as he actually had been.

But his mind was already wandering a bit, thinking about the conversation with Shen. Not the
awful stuff, just the factual sex information. He was actually pretty curious about it. He was
tempted to have a go himself, with his fingers, just to see what it felt like. Or he would be
tempted, if he was ever likely to get a moment of privacy again. Which was unlikely, as Zuko
slept pretty much on top of him most nights.

It was probably for the best. In his casual musings, it filled him with curiosity and made
warmth pool in his gut in a familiar and welcome way. Much like the pictures Yuxuan had
shown him, it made him feel like there was something normal he might actually return to one
day. He hadn’t even jerked off since the boat, he hadn’t felt the desire to. But this gave him a
little hope that the urge might come back naturally.

Also, he was concerned the reality of attempting to experiment might cause other problems.
He wasn’t sure he could divorce the act from what had happened on the boat. He didn’t want
to make his relationship with sex any murkier.

“Are you listening to me, Sokka?” Suki asked.

“Sorry, I was miles away.” Thinking sex thoughts. Although, somehow not fun ones.
“I was telling you about the time Ruoxi and I balanced a bucket of water above the door to
get the kitchen master and got the mayor instead.”

“Right, sorry, carry on, I love a good prank.” He tried to leave his thoughts behind, let go of
the uncertainty and focus on her words.

Waiting for Zuko to get back was agony. Sokka spent the time in a boiling pit of worry and
guilt. Suki had chosen to scout the area more thoroughly and Shen was taking time to see to
his own weapon. All he had was a knife, so he seemed determined to make it sharp enough to
really count when it mattered. Either that or he was imagining stabbing Zuko with it if he
made it back. The expression on his face said it might be that. Clearly, he wasn’t enjoying the
undercurrent of anxiety either.

To distract himself from the Zuko worry, Sokka opted to indulge in his other source of
concern. “How many people will die, do you think?” he asked.

Shen looked up, his hazel eyes a little shadowed in the dull pre dawn light. “A lot. There’s no
point in pretending,” he said.

Sokka chewed his lip. He had been doing so much he’d taken skin off, and he could taste the
metallic tang of blood on his tongue. “We’re going to have to kill people too, aren’t we?” It
should be easier to deal with in a fight. It should be, but somehow it wasn’t.

“Yeah. No point pretending about that either. Although you will be focused on getting
weapons distributed and transportation for the wounded.” He glanced towards where the
camp loomed, just out of sight. “Assuming that’s an option.”

“How…” Sokka struggled to phrase his question. “What do you feel about it? Does it bother
you?” he tried at last.

Shen looked at him, face open but hard. “Killing people is my job, Sokka.” He shrugged a
little. “I’m good at it. I’ve been fighting since I was your age. If I let myself worry about
death, theirs or mine, then I’d be useless.”

Sokka fell silent and fiddled with a stick from the forest floor, digging one end in the dirt and
making little furrows. It was unfair that someone as nice as Shen, or his dad, even, would be
so casual about killing and death. Sokka had only killed twice, and it played on his mind a
lot. He didn’t regret it, not even the man he had pushed into the sea during their escape. But
the fact he had taken human life did still bother him at some level, even if they had deserved
it. Even if he fully planned to do the same to Ro and Zhao.

He thought it probably really fucked you up being a soldier, especially someone who started
as young as Shen had. He had barely known any other life for as long as Sokka had been
alive. It was clear Shen didn’t feel pleasure in killing, not like Chen had, but it also didn’t
seem to bother him. Like he was completely distanced from the reality of taking a life.
Sokka wondered if that’s what it felt like for his dad, too. If it would feel like that for him
with another few kills under his belt. It would be easier, but at the same time, he kind of
hoped he never reached that point. He dug his stick a little deeper into the hard ground.

“Sokka?” Shen asked, and there was something in his voice that made Sokka’s heart beat a
little harder. This would not be a pleasant conversation.

“Yeah?”

Shen twisted the knife in his hand, the blade gleaming. “You got anything in that flower book
that can kill you?”

“Yeah, why?” he asked cautiously.

“Quick?”

“Why?” Sokka asked again. He was hoping that maybe Shen would suggest something they
could add to the plan, but he was concerned that was not where this talk was going.

Shen set the knife down. “I can’t risk being taken alive. I need to give myself… options.”

Sokka stared at him with mounting horror at what he was suggesting.

“I know too much about the plan at Ba Sing Se. If they take me, it puts everything we have
worked for, your dad, the city, it puts them all in danger.”

“We could escape, even if we’re captured,” Sokka protested.

“I can’t risk it. If I’m tortured, I can’t say I won’t let something slip. It almost came to that
with Ro, with Tsing. I’m putting everyone in jeopardy to save my men. I shouldn’t even be
considering doing something as crazy as this. I have to take precautions. As a last resort only,
though, Sokka.”

Sokka closed his eyes, sorting through his feelings. Shen let him, it was a lot he was asking, it
would put some of the weight of his choice, if he made it, on Sokka’s shoulders for providing
the means.

But if it came to the possibility of Ro capturing him again? Of taking Zuko alive? He would
take the knife, would slip something to Zuko, quick and painless if he could. And that wasn’t
even his choice to make. It was a purely selfish thought.

Shen deserved to have his options. To prevent his own nightmare.

“There are plants that could work. Nothing as quick as a blade, though. I can’t promise it
won’t hurt.”

“The hurt is irrelevant. Just the outcome is important.”

“We can look tomorrow,” Sokka said, quietly.

“Don’t tell Zuli, though, okay?”

“I won’t.” He didn’t know how Zuko would react, if he would understand. But either way, it
might throw him off when they needed him to be focused. It might make him more
protective, less concerned with keeping himself safe. So it was best he didn’t know at all.

Another choice Sokka was making for him.

Sokka jumped when Zuko materialised out of the shadows, but he noticed Suki and Shen did
too. He really was quiet when he wanted to be. Sokka gave him an anxious once over, but he
looked fine. He looked pumped, like he always did when he did something nuts.

“Okay?” he asked anyway.

“Yeah. It’s big in there. Took longer than I thought. No one saw me.” He dumped a large bag
of stuff on the floor, it clanged. Looked like he had found the armour.

Shen pursed his lips. Even though Zuko was back in one piece, he clearly hadn’t been
forgiven for going in the first place. They were weirdly alike in some ways.

Ignoring Shen’s grumpy expression, Zuko came and squatted next to Sokka, taking
possession of his stick and sweeping the dirt flat before he began to draw. He laid out the
blocks, the weapon shed, the defences. Everything from food stores to waste disposal.

“Try on the uniform,” he told Shen, still drawing.

Shen sighed loudly and with a great deal of aggravation, but he did as suggested. He handled
each item of armour with distaste.

“It’s not going to turn you into a firebender,” Zuko snapped at him. “Just put it on. We only
have a short amount of time to make plans and can’t waste it on you being silly.”

“Silly,” Shen said flatly, although the corner of his mouth was twitching suspiciously. Sokka
thought it was daft how much he seemed to indulge Zuko’s rudeness and tendency towards
giving orders to all and sundry. It would bite him on the arse at some point. But Shen seemed
to find it entertaining rather than insulting. And he didn’t argue, just shrugged on the under
armour.

“This is a bit tight,” he said, swinging his arms. It looked like there would be some restriction
over the chest.

“Well, sorry I couldn’t find any for giants,” Zuko grumbled. “Sokka, here is where the
wagons will be, along with ostrich horses. They are using them rather than komodo rhinos
where possible, as most of the transport they’re using is stolen, and made specifically for
them.”
Shen sat back down and took out the sewing kit again, making the necessary adjustments to
his uniform.

Suki joined Sokka, squatting beside him and looking over the large dirt map. They discussed
options and contingencies. Sokka was okay with his role. He might need to fight, but acting
as the person who would attempt to get people out felt right, like he wasn’t just being
relegated to do a shit task because he was the least capable.

Zuko tied on his uniform, disappearing into the red armour. Sokka hated it, the sight of him in
it. He had brought one of the horrid face plates, stark and anonymous. It made something feel
squirmy in Sokka’s belly.

Shen didn’t look like he was enjoying it much either, his lips turned up in an unhappy-
looking sneer. “You’re going to have to take that off when we get started,” Shen said.
“Otherwise you might be attacked by our own people.” Our own felt weirdly loaded.

“I have no intention of fighting in this.” Zuko pulled out the gear he had worn during the raid
on Lao Fort, including the mask. “As soon as I no longer need the uniform, I’ll change.” He
glanced at Sokka. “I want Zhao to know. Every sighting of the Blue Spirit will give him
another sleepless night.”

Sokka grinned up at him. “And every sleepless night we give him is one I’ll sleep a little
better and enjoy a little more.”

…………………….

The first day in the prison had been terrifying. Tu had been waiting for the men to come back
and find him alive. Then what would happen? Would they reveal he was Fire Nation? Would
they take him somewhere else and put him with more people, ones that would hurt him? Or
would they just take him to the blocks out front and execute him?

When the day passed, his fear did not. Even if it seemed to be a case of out of sight, out of
mind, there was always the possibility they would remember and return. Every person who
entered the enclosure made his heart beat like he was nothing more than a scared mouse
rabbit.

Still, the Earth Kingdom soldiers had been kind to him. They had given him space to catch a
few hours of sleep, and he had been exhausted enough to manage it despite the fear, the
smell, and the constant noise. And they had offered him a share of the food they were given,
had even accepted him being a little withdrawn and unclear about his origins. They had
allowed him his privacy.

Haoyu was nice. He seemed too good natured to be in the army and his obvious pain was
upsetting. Tu wished there was something he could do for him. But at least the older boy
seemed happy to have someone close to his age to speak to, even if Tu didn’t talk back much.
Haoyu spoke of his unit, and of his friend Yuxuan, who he had lost track of in the battle. He
mentioned their captain was good to them. Recent events had soured Tu’s opinion of people
in authority in the army, but it was a relief to hear his experiences were not universal.

Guo was kind too. He seemed to be the leader and made sure people were all fed and what
little medicine they had was given to those in need. He was a bit gruff and his voice was
coarse, but his hands were always gentle when he reapplied salve to Tu’s skin.

He and his friend Muyang, a slim man with sun darkened skin and a wide smile, told
amusing stories to keep spirits up. His captain seemed to be his primary target, it sounded
like he had been something of a tearaway as a youth. They also spoke about the two kids they
had apparently picked up in the forest, including Zuli, who had what must be a Fire Nation
accent, if not a Caldera one. Something that continued to make Tu nervous.

“So then Zuli told arms master Fu to dunk his head in a bucket,” Muyang was saying. “And
bearing in mind that Fu is built like a giant rhinoceros beetle and has the temper of a hornet,
you can imagine how that went down.” He laughed.

“What happened?” Tu asked, as he was supposed to.

“Fu went to hit the kid, and Zuli kicked a leg out from under him. I don’t think Fu really
understood how he ended up on the ground, but he was mad about it. And then the captain
picked the boy up like he was a furious, hissing kitten and carried him away, kicking and
squirming. Fucking hilarious.”

“Do you remember when Sokka dropped red berry soup down Yao’s back just before
inspection? That kid is so clumsy,” Guo chuckled. “And Yao was yelling at him, so he
decided not to tell him it wasn’t water and had stained all down his tunic. You have to recall
that red and green make brown, and when he put his girdle on it just covered the top half of
him, not his butt, so it looked like he’d shat himself.”

Everyone laughed. It felt good. The purpose of the stories was to give them all a little lift that
remembered joy brought, a little hope and light.

But it couldn’t chase away the shadows for long.

Every time a guard entered, silence would fall, and Guo would shift in front of Tu and
Haoyu, protecting them with his body, as he had nothing else. Tu thought he was afraid
someone would come and finish Haoyu off, now he was crippled and unable to bend or walk.
He wouldn’t be of any use once the prisoners were sent on to the next stage–to the mines or
some other work camp, no doubt. There was no point in keeping them here. It seemed
surprising they had been kept alive this long. It was quite likely this oversight was due to
bureaucracy rather than any kindness.

Tu seemed to be included in the protectiveness, partly because of his age, partly proximity to
Haoyu as they shared a sleeping place, and partly as a response to Tu’s own obvious terror
every time a guard entered the shed. He couldn’t help the constant wondering if today would
be the day and he wasn’t very good at hiding his feelings.
Most of the time, the guard would be there to feed them, but sometimes they would take
someone away and never bring them back. Tu didn’t think he was alone in fearing he would
be next.

It was late, after their meagre evening water ration had been delivered, when they heard the
agitated murmuring and shifting that accompanied a guard entering the compound.

This was not normal, not good. There was no reason for guards to be in the shed after the
water, not until morning, so whatever this was, it was bad.

They couldn’t see the front of the shed, as their cage was towards the rear, but they could
hear the tread of the guards’ boots and the concerned whispers of the other prisoners. Tu and
the 54th listened with growing tension as the guard moved towards them, stopping and then
starting, like they were looking for something. As always, Guo moved himself in front of
them, shielding as much of them from view as he could.

The torches burned all night, one at each end of the compound, and the guard’s face was
shadowed as he came to the door of their cell. He was tall, wearing a helmet and lieutenants
armour. He paused and stared in at them. Tu felt his pulse tick up. He saw the man smile, a
terrifying expression, before he reached up and tugged his helmet off.

“Guo!” he said, still grinning.

Guo jerked like he had been punched. “Shen?” he said, voice completely shocked. The rest of
the men started murmuring and muttering in rising excitement, and the guard made a
shushing gesture with the hand holding the helmet.

“Hi,” he said. Then he looked annoyed. “Shit, now I’m doing it.” He shook his head. “Hi,” he
muttered again, scornfully.

“What the ever loving fuck,” Guo said, while Tu tried to make sense of what was going on.
Shen was their captain’s name. This man's short hair, sticking up in all directions with sweat
from being under the helmet, indicated he might not be Fire Nation, but it didn’t make any
sense.

“What’s happening?” Tu asked Haoyu in a whisper.

Haoyu looked stunned. “Our captain’s come to rescue us,” he said with excitement and awe
in his voice.

“By himself?” Tu squeaked, perhaps a bit too loud.

“That’s a good point,” Guo said, as he got to his feet. He reached through the bars to clap the
taller man on the shoulder. “How did you get out? I thought for sure that fucker that took you
was going to...” He didn’t finish the sentence.
The captain grimaced. “He had a go. It was the same bastard that tortured the boys.” His face
screwed up, and he shuddered. “Piece of shit.”

“He hurt you?” Guo said, quiet and dangerous. Even though the other man was the
commanding officer, it seemed Guo had looked out for him since he had been a boy, and he
clearly still had protective feelings towards him.

“He only had me for an hour, but he enjoyed it. He had those boys for a month, Guo. Every
time I think about it, I want to fucking break something. Preferably his face.”

From the way the 54th had spoken about these boys, it had sounded fun, with light-hearted
affection. But this made things sound bad. Really bad. Tu felt shame again, shame at what his
people had done, and along with it came more anger and bitterness. He didn’t doubt the
captain was telling the truth. Tu felt his eyes had been well and truly opened these past
weeks.

“An hour is a long time, in those circumstances,” Guo said, as gently as his harsh voice
would allow.

Captain Shen didn’t reply right away, he just grunted as he worked the lock on the door. He
shoved the helmet under one arm as he used what must have been picks. “Yeah,” he said
eventually. “He made good use of the time, but then a more senior captain took me to Lao
River Fort. In his way, I think it was kind of a rescue, although I was clearly destined for
more torture and pain with General Tsing. Weird to think that even their own people are
disgusted by their actions sometimes.” He shook his head. “How many are here?”

“Fifteen. We had twenty-two, but some didn’t make it.”

“Fifteen.” The man closed his eyes for a moment in apparent pain. The door opened, and the
captain stepped into the cell, checking on the men and greeting them all warmly by name.
“Two of you take my picks and go back down the cells to open the doors, but don’t let
anyone leave yet. Wait for the signal.”

Guo gripped him by the arms, it seemed like he needed to touch him to know he was real.
“How did you get in here? Even dressed like that, I’m surprised no one stopped you.”

The captain chuckled. “I used the name of the captain that took me to Lao Fort and
mentioned something about an audit. They seemed familiar with him, lots of eye rolling, but
they let me in.”

“Sounds like a story there,” Guo said with a huff of a laugh. “How did you escape from the
Fort?”

Captain Shen patted his friend’s hand before breaking free of him and kneeling in front of
Haoyu and Tu. He grinned again, although it looked strained. Close up, he looked younger
than Tu was expecting. “I was rescued by the Blue Spirit,” the captain said solemnly.

“You’re teasing me,” Haoyu said with a weak but sincere grin.
“I’m not. The real deal. Technically, you are also being rescued by the Blue Spirit. And me,
obviously.”

“He’s here?” Haoyu’s eyes had become very round.

“Isn’t he...” Tu shut his mouth with a snap. A criminal, he was going to say, but he wasn’t to
these people. He was a hero. A hero to Tu as well, if he was going to be set free with the rest
of the men.

The captain looked at him and blinked. “You’re not one of mine,” he said.

Tu shook his head.

“Captain Shen, of the 54th,”

“Hello,” Tu said. Even though he had decided he hated all military types, except for Guo and
Haoyu, and the other men he had spoken to in this cell, Tu found he was impressed with
Captain Shen. Aside from being huge and imposing, he had also come for his men, although
he had been free and safe. Tu blinked up at him.

“Teenagers seem to be like weeds. You find one and fifteen more appear,” Captain Shen
sighed. “It’s a curse.”

“I don’t think you can be cursed with a plague of teenagers, Captain,” Guo pointed out.

“I’ve managed it. Believe me, I have.”

“Were you joking about the Blue Spirit?” Haoyu interrupted. He still had that wide-eyed look
on his face.

“Unfortunately not.”

“Unfortunately?” Haoyu sounded slightly scandalised.

“Hmm. It’s complicated. But, no, I wasn’t joking. The Blue Spirit is very much here and
about to cause some serious trouble. He broke into Lao Fort and blew most of it up. I don’t
expect this to be much different.”

“Why did he rescue you? Chance?” Guo asked, squatting down beside them.

“That’s the complicated part. I’ll explain when we’re out of here. We need to wait for the
signal, and then we can move.”

“Which will be?”

“That never seems to be clear, but in my experience? Big explosions. We’ve released as many
prisoners as we can, but aside from ourselves, and anyone who wishes to join us, it’s going to
be every man for themselves, I think.” He glanced at his friend. “It’s going to be chaos.”

Guo nodded. “Lots of them will die.”

“Yeah. But we’ll save all we can, bring them with us. It’s the only way.”

“We who? How many of you broke in? Just you and the Blue Spirit?”

“And two more.”

“That's still not many,” Muyang said, from where he had joined them. He was grinning from
ear to ear, clearly as excited as the rest of the soldiers.

Tu was almost too tense to breathe. The sudden possibility of hope was almost too much to
cope with. But the anticipation and joy of the soldiers was catching. The weirdness of being
rescued by someone who seemed to be a folk hero, but had always been a villain to him,
seemed strangely fitting.

“I’m...” Haoyu started, then stopped. He grit his teeth. “I can’t walk, Captain.”

The captain gently picked up his wrists and examined his swollen legs. It wasn’t good, Tu
could see and smell how not good it was, and the captain clearly could too, but he didn’t
react, just looked at the injuries. “You think we’re going to leave you?” he asked softly.

“You should.”

“Not a chance, kiddo. Not a fucking chance. I’ll carry you myself if it comes to that.”

“I will,” Guo said. “You’ll need to fight, Captain. Luckily, he’s still a shrimp.”

“Oy,” Haoyu protested with a good natured scowl. “I’m not as shrimpy as Tu, here.” He
grinned, taking any sting out of his words.

“They seem to make them small these days,” Captain Shen said with a fond grin. “Pocket
sized for convenience.”

Guo chuckled, rusty and warm sounding. “Anyway, sounds like you’ll get a chance to meet
your hero, Haoyu. Would be a fucking shame for you to miss out on that.”

Haoyu perked up a little at the prospect.

“A hero,” Capitan Shen made a face. “Bloody brat more like,” he muttered.

“Are you angry with the Blue Spirit?” Tu asked. And then wished he hadn’t when the captain
looked at him again. He should be staying quiet. But he knew these men would be his way
out. He didn’t think Guo would leave him, but he was going to be a burden, he shouldn’t
draw attention to himself.

“Not angry, just annoyed. The little shit was haranguing me from the second I woke up this
morning, trying to make me practise my lines for breaking in. I think he started before I woke
up. Literally in my face the second my eyes opened.”

“Your lines?” Haoyu asked.

“Yeah, we just rode right in the front gate dressed as guards. I had to practise sounding Fire
Nation.” His gaze slid to Tu for just a second, and Tu tensed, but then he looked back to his
men and smiled at Haoyu again, and Tu wasn’t sure if there had been anything in it.

“Haranguing you?” Guo sounded amused.

“I think it’s anxiety. He’s like a dog with a rat.” Captain Shen sighed, his face full of
affection. Tu could see Guo was as confused as he was.

“Or it’s because he’s the most irritating human ever to exist,” a new voice said. A girl,
dressed in dark clothes with a sword at her belt. She waved.

“Yeah. Or that,” Shen agreed. “Hi, Suki. You found your people?”

“Yeah. Some injured, but they’re ready. All the cages are open. We’re waiting for… the Blue
Spirit to blow up the blasting jelly.” She paused, raising an eyebrow. “You ever worry he
likes that stuff a little too much?”

“It’s one of my many concerns, yeah,” Captain Shen muttered.

“One of your additional cursed teenagers, I take it?” Guo asked with some humour on his
craggy face.

“Yeah. She’s a menace.”

“Hey! I’m only like an eight on the menace scale, even less when you’re travelling with a
ten.”

There was a resounding boom, and Tu flinched. There was a moment of almost painful
silence before the yelling started.

“A ten?” Captain Shen scoffed. “I think he’s off the scale. A twelve at least.” He pushed
himself up. “Okay, let’s move out. Careful until we get out of here, then we head west. In
theory, part of that wall should be down. Although who knows if that’s the case, blasting jelly
is unpredictable, and people even more so.”

“There are weapons by the doors to the shed,” Suki added. “Also theoretically, the Blue Spirit
will draw the guards east.”

“I hate this part of the plan,” Captain Shen said. “That brat is going to be the death of me.”

“Not on my watch,” Suki said, as another explosion rocked the compound.

“Muyang, help me,” Guo ordered, as he bent and began to lift Haoyu. The older boy made a
horrible sound of pain and his face lost all its colour. “Sorry, kid,” Guo said, but he didn’t
stop.

Captain Shen looked distressed, but his face quickly shuttered into one of calm focus. “Tu,
you stay with us. Can you fight?”
Tu shook his head automatically. His heart was racing so hard he thought he might puke. He
had some ability to fight; they were taught cursory use of weapons and hand to hand, but he
was small and weak and had never been any good at it. He could only just manage with his
bending, and that was out of the question.

“Okay, just stay close.”

“I’ll try,” Tu said. “To fight, I mean. I can a bit.”

Captain Shen shot him another considering look. This one was obvious, and Tu realised he
hadn’t been imagining it before. “Interesting accent you have there.”

“It’s like Zuli’s, no?” Muyang said, grunting as he and Guo lifted Haoyu, who seemed to be
hanging on to consciousness by his fingernails.

Tu stared at the captain, who raised an eyebrow.

He knew.

Tu felt his vision go a little funny with panic.

“I’m sure it will be an interesting story, but perhaps one for another time,” the captain said.
There was a certain weight to his words, but it didn’t sound like he was going to out him. It
sounded more like he didn’t want to reveal anything about this Zuli.

The captain wasn’t going to say anything, at least not yet. That meant the 54th was still his
best bet for surviving this. Tu took some deep breaths. Part of him wanted to stay safe in the
cell, but he would die if he did. They would come for him eventually. At least he had a
chance to taste freedom again this way.

Once mobilised, they moved quickly for the doors, the more able-bodied helping the
wounded. As promised, there were weapons, although Suki had disappeared somewhere,
perhaps to find her people, whoever they were.

Swords, pikes and knives were distributed among those most able to fight, and then they
were out of the huge shed and into the chaos beyond. The compound was in uproar; violence
and fire and screaming. Tu saw the farmer’s face again, smelt the cooked flesh of his body.
He shuddered so violently he almost overbalanced.

“Steady, kid. We’ll be okay,” Guo said. His craggy face pinched with the effort of not jostling
Haoyu as they moved.

There was smoke and fire, making it hard to see. Everywhere people were fighting and dying.
Some were attacking the red clad soldiers, using anything they had, even just their bare
hands, others were just running, running in all directions it seemed.

Aside from the screaming and the crackle of fires, there was the sound of earth rumbling and
breaking as some earthbenders found a way to fight back despite what had been done to
them.
Tu sucked in gasps of the smoky air. Which way was west? He had no idea, he didn’t know
where anything was, and he could barely see with all the haze. Instead, he stopped breathing
out his heat, and let it fill him. He reached out, felt the inner fire of the surrounding people,
each different and unique. Even if he couldn’t see, he could follow.

“Fuck,” Captain Shen said.

In the middle of the square was the Blue Spirit, fighting with his dual blades. Tu stopped,
stunned, as he watched the small figure fight off two large, heavily armed men. He was
incredible to watch, but that wasn’t what made Tu stop and stare. His chi was a firestorm. It
was mesmerising. Terrifying. He wasn’t bending, but Tu thought he might be able to. You
could have inner fire like that and be a non bender, although he had only seen it once, when
he had watched Master Piandao demonstrate a fight. It hadn’t even been a real battle, and it
had been from a distance, and his chi had been a boiling force.

This was more. It was a churning, heaving mass of energy.

As he watched, the fighting shifted, heading towards them like an inexorable tide. Soldiers
emerged from the smoke, weapons drawn, and the remains of the 54th, backed by the other
prisoners from the shed, moved to engage. Flames roared and men screamed.

Tu stumbled backward, keeping as close to Guo an Haoyu as he could. They were essentially
defenceless, and the others had positioned themselves to protect them. But it was a ragged
formation, held by malnourished, weakened and disorganised men. They were driven aside,
split off from the captain, who was fighting closer to the front of the line.

A soldier broke through. He had a sword, and his armour indicated he was a non bender, but
it hardly mattered. Tu was unarmed, Guo and Muyang were holding Haoyu and couldn’t fight
without dropping him. They all stumbled away, but Tu set himself in front, his knees shaking.
Guo had protected him with his body during their time in the prison, and his own was all Tu
had to offer in return.

He could hear the screams and the clash of weapons in all directions, but it felt almost like
the sensation of the sound was funnelled to a point, along with his vision, the soldier in the
centre. The man sneered and raised his weapon, his chi alive and pulsing. Tu’s surged in
response, his fear momentarily overriding his sense. He lashed out, not even forming a proper
kata, just extending his arm in a desperate sweep. The soldier had not been expecting it,
clearly thinking Tu was just a defenceless Earth Kingdom kid, and the fire struck his
unprotected face. He fell back, dropping his weapon and clutching at his eyes. Tu panted,
shocked and horrified, but the feeling of revulsion twisted and stretched when he realised
what he had done. Guo’s eyes were wide with shock, and beyond him was the captain, who
had been fighting his way back to them. His expression was complicated, and Tu didn’t have
the wherewithal to figure out what it meant. All he knew was that when Captain Shen
reached him, he would kill him. He had revealed himself as their enemy, even if he wasn’t,
not really.

Tu ran.

“Kid, wait!” Guo shouted.

“Tu!” That was the captain. The man was fit, with legs that looked almost as long as Tu was
tall, he could catch him easy if he tried, so Tu sent a wave of fire behind him not, strong
enough to reach the men or hurt them, but just enough to stop pursuit.

He darted into the thick of the fighting. He still didn’t know which way he needed to go, he
was just fleeing wildly. There was no longer any place of safety, not even the illusion of one.
There were men in red uniforms fighting prisoners, some armed, some not, everywhere he
turned.

Smoke and screaming filled his senses as he ducked and weaved around them. Once again,
being small was working to his advantage. Most people didn’t even bother to engage him,
those that did, he flung fire at, uncoordinated and weak. It was just enough to keep them
away from him.

Ahead of him was the broken remains of a wall, stone and wood and twisted metal wreathed
in smoke. In front of it were soldiers trying to stop the stampede of prisoners. Some of the
Earth Kingdom men were fighting, but many were just charging forward, desperately trying
to reach the freedom of the forest beyond.

The scent of burned meat and blood hung in the air with the smoke and Tu retched, but he
didn’t stop running, he couldn’t. He had to get out. He blasted at the soldier with the weakest
feeling chi, hoping he couldn’t bend. The man fell back a step, lifting his sword to protect his
face, and some prisoners used the man’s distraction to overwhelm him. Tu dodged around
them and reached the wall. His fingers found holds in the debris and he scrambled up the
side, hanging on as other men pushed by him, nearly dislodging him along with loose stone
and wooden splinters. As he reached the top, someone punched him in the back and he
pitched over down the other side. The fall wasn’t far, and he hit the ground with a thump. He
was winded, but nothing was broken.

He pushed himself up. It felt like something had him by the shirt and he reached around to
knock it free as he staggered to his feet. It took him a moment to understand what his fingers
found; an arrow. He’d been shot. It was stuck in his shoulder. A wave of fear and pain hit
him, but he didn’t have time to deal with it, just started running again.

There were men in the forest, shouts and screams, and he just kept going.

He knew he shouldn’t pull the arrow out, but he couldn’t leave it there, it was catching on
branches and the pain and jarring feeling was threatening to overbalance him. He paused for
a second, hidden by a large, broad trunked tree. He felt the wound again. The shaft was
wood, he couldn’t break it, but he could burn through it. He gripped it awkwardly with one
hand, wincing at the sensation of the metal head moving under his skin, and heated it until
the wood caught and burned. The shaft snapped, and he sucked the fire away.

Behind him, the shouts increased. Perhaps it was just men calling for each other, perhaps it
was pursuit from the guards. He couldn’t stay.

Taking a deep breath, he began running again. It was harder this time, exhaustion pulling at
the fear that kept his legs moving, tugging at his limbs, slowing him down. But he couldn’t
stop, if he did, he would die, he was sure of it.
He kept running until the only noise he could hear was his own panting breath and the
crackle of scrub underfoot. He had lost one of the shoes they had given him, and his bare foot
was scratched and hurting, but he could barely feel it though the burning in his lungs and the
ache from the wound in his shoulder. He could almost feel the scrape of metal on bone from
the arrowhead still lodged in him.

He was so focused on getting away; he didn’t notice the drop ahead of him until it was too
late, and he tumbled down what felt like a sloping cliff. He bounced and rolled, driving the
arrow further into his body as the world spun. It was just branches and hard rocky outcrops
tumbling over each other, while the sky and a dancing pattern of branches and light flashed in
his vision like a kaleidoscope.

Then he was in the air for a moment.

Then he hit the floor.

“It’s a kid!”

Consciousness swam back along with horrible, horrible pain that was crawling over his body.
Tu moaned, unable to move or see past the stuff caking his face. Was he sick? Was it the
breakbone fever again?

“I think he’s alive!” The same voice said. Young, high and bright. For a dizzy moment, he
thought it was Hua, and he was filled with a desperate, confused longing. He missed her so
much. But that didn’t make sense. He saw her everyday, didn’t he? He reached for her. Then
cried out as the movement jostled his shoulder. And everything came rushing back with pain
and fear and a feeling of loss.

There were soft footfalls, and a hand touched him just above the wound. “This looks bad. Do
you think he escaped from whatever’s happening up by East Lake?” There was a pause.
“Yeah. He’s wearing prison clothes. Hey, can you hear me?”

Another gentle touch and an attempt to roll him over. Tu couldn’t find his voice to answer.

“It’s okay. We’re going to help you.” A soft hand was in his hair. “Look at these burns. We
have some stuff for these, really, really good stuff. It’s Fire Nation made. Got to give the
ashmaker’s their due, they know how to fix up a thermal injury.”

Small hands were pulling at him. He curled around himself as best he could, confused and so
exhausted; physically, emotionally, and mentally. He just felt just done. How had all of this
happened in such a short amount of time? His father, his mother, Hua, killing a farmer, being
taken to die, being cared for by enemy soldiers, running from them. Ash and bone, he hoped
Haoyu was okay. He hoped the 54th had escaped, even if they would kill him as soon as look
at him now.

Then again, his own people had tried to kill him again and again, too.
 But he’d lived.

He thought somewhere in the swimming confusion under all the hurt and the fear, he could
feel hate. Real hate.

The hand brushed over his eyes, wiping them clear, although his vision was still blurry. A
small, pale face was looking back at him. He could see it split into a strained smile, but the
features were undefined and fuzzy. Head injury, perhaps. Or blood still in his eyes.

“Hi,” the face said, before it turned slightly, and for a moment Tu thought they would leave
him. He didn’t care who they were, but being abandoned now would be the worst possible
thing. He needed them, anyone, being alone was unthinkable. He whimpered, trying to reach
out.

“It’s okay,” the face said. “We’re going to take you to our camp, don’t worry.” Another pause.
“I think you’re going to have to carry him. What’s your name?”

“Tu,” Tu said, his voice a rusty croak.

“Hi, Tu. I’m Smellerbee. This is Longshot.” Tu could sense the second person, now he was
looking for them, but he couldn’t do any more than lie there and listen. “He’s going to have
to pick you up,” Smellerbee continued, voice sympathetic. “It’s going to hurt.”

It did, and Tu screamed, just once, before he passed out.

Chapter End Notes

Next chapter: The rescue continues, and Kazuma drops in on an old friend in the hopes
of getting a lead on the Blue Spirit.
 Chapter 22
Chapter Summary

Looking after kids was hard.

Chapter Notes

Sorry this one took a while!

Warnings: blood and injury, sewing up of wounds, amputation (off screen), brief
discussion of mercy killing, mention of torture and non-con, internalised homophobia.

Many thanks to my beta burkesl17, who has managed to wrangle my dyslexic nonsense.
All mistakes are my own.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

“Tu!” Shen fought his way forward as fast as he could, but the kid had taken off with
surprising speed, considering his size. “Fuck!”

Firebender or no firebender, the boy couldn’t be older than fourteen, his chances were slim by
himself. But Shen couldn’t chase him, as much as he wanted to, he had his men to think of.

“What the fuck?” Guo said, his voice a little high. He was clearly still shocked the kid he had
been protecting could have set him on fire at any time.

Shen could relate, he really could. But he’d also had to adjust his perspective somewhat over
the last week and this wasn’t as big a shock as it would have been.

Still, as much as he wanted to help Tu, he couldn’t right now, as that would leave Guo and
Haoyu unprotected. “Fall back to the west,” he ordered above the chaos.

Fighting felt familiar, terrifying, and oddly comforting in a backward sort of way. Command
slid over him like a shield and he felt more in control than he had since the 54th had been
attacked. The feel of adrenaline and fear tangling up and creating focus was like an old
friend.
There were fewer firebenders here than there were when dealing with a battalion. Presumably
most of them went to the front rather than the prisons. Those that were here were
predominantly older men or women. He could understand Zuli’s confusion now when they
had questioned him about fighting girls. Turned out, when someone was trying to set you on
fire or stab you with a sharp implement, you would do your damnedest to kill them no matter
their gender. And it also turned out that Fire Nation women were proficient at both forms of
murder.

The wagons were in place, so Sokka must have come through with that part of the plan,
although Shen couldn’t see the kid, which was a concern. But there were a lot of people, so
one rather short boy might be easily lost. He managed to spot Suki loading a bleeding girl
into one of the carts, so one out of three was… well, it was better than nothing.

He left the organisation of the wounded to others and joined the able-bodied soldiers holding
the line to give enough time for the carts to retreat. The sheer number of prisoners escaping in
all directions seemed to have done the job, and pursuit was dispersed and easy to fight back.

When they crested the first rise and looked down at the encampment, there was no one
following, although combat was still fierce inside the compound. Below them they could see
Zuli—the Blue Spirit, fighting near the exit they had used.

Something in Shen’s chest got tight. He was incredible to witness, fantastically talented, but
there was still a feeling of urgent anxiety when watching him. Because despite his grace and
skill, Shen knew that behind the mask was the same kid who got so mad when Sokka tried to
teach him to use spark rocks correctly, he flung one of them at the side of a mountain and it
bounced off and hit him right between the eyes. He still had a shadow of the bruise. Suki had
laughed so hard she had inhaled her jerky and rice, and Shen had had to smack her on the
back to dislodge the food from her gullet before she asphyxiated.

Looking after kids was hard.

Watching one of them take on armed men by himself was fucking awful.

A woman in firebender armour joined the fight—she and the two men Zuli was already
fighting were working together; the swords to distract, while the woman waited for an
opportunity to strike with fire.

Zuli clearly knew what they were doing and was trying to edge around the two men, to get
close enough to either take her out, or taunt her into trying to blast him and getting her while
she followed through. She was clearly skilled, and had fought with these men before, and she
both resisted striking too quickly and being caught out by his manoeuvring.

She chose her moment, in perfect sync with the men, and Zuli was driven to his knees. He
crossed his swords in front of him as the blast hit, the air shimmering with the heat of it. The
fire slid down the blades like they had deflected the flames.

Despite what it looked like, that was impossible.

“Wow!” Muyang said, impressed and awed.

“Fuck,” Guo said. He didn’t sound impressed, he sounded freaked. He had seen that for what
it was.

Firebending.

Careful and skilful, so an observer might not notice it, but after Tu, perhaps Guo was more...
open to seeing what was hidden in plain sight.

“Fuck,” Guo said again.

Shen leaned in. “Say nothing,” he muttered, low and urgent. It was a big ask, and Guo’s eyes
were wide in his craggy face.

“Complicated,” he muttered. “You said it was complicated.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Shen said grimly. Below them, the woman had recovered
from her own shock. That should have been at least a debilitating blow, but Zuli was up and
moving, and his sword cut through her follow up attempt, striking her down with brutal
efficiency. He spun, dropping low, in what Shen was now recognised as a favoured move,
and struck the blade away from one of the men before taking him out. The other man looked
like he was going to run and the moment of doubt cost him his life.

No witnesses.

Zuli might not be a natural killer, but he sure as shit could do the job when it was necessary.

“Let’s go,” Shen said. It hurt everything in him to leave, but he had to protect his men, and he
had to trust Zuli could look after himself. In the army, you had to make decisions that
favoured both the mission and the majority. But that made little difference to the anxiety in
Shen’s gut or the squirming guilt. He had left the kid so many times and even though he
always seemed to come through, it felt wrong. Like he was abandoning him.

The procession of prisoners and carts travelled through the dawn and into the day, until
exhaustion made them stop and camp. It was a mess. A swarm of shocked, confused,
frightened people.

Despite his own fatigue, Shen set about organising the mayhem. First, he spoke to the other
men who had been in the cell with the 54th. While he didn’t know who these people were,
they seemed like the best bet for the time being. He asked them to form a perimeter, to keep
watch for pursuit. He ordered Muyang to make sure the wounded and anyone too exhausted
to move under their own power were close to or on the carts, and then he went to find the rest
of his kids.

He found them together. Seeing Sokka in one piece was a tremendous relief. He had a cut to
his cheek, and he looked a little sooty, but otherwise he seemed like he had come through the
fight in good shape.
“Li?” Sokka asked as soon as he was close enough to be heard.

“He’s fine,” Shen said. He had no idea if that was true or not, but he needed Sokka to be
focused and not running off to rescue his friend. He just desperately hoped that his lie was
proven to be truth. “I need your help,” he added. Sokka responded well to calm authority, so
that was what he would give him. Suki, he wasn’t sure of. She was also unhurt, but was
smeared with drying blood. She looked a little shocky, like the adrenaline was still going full
whack.

“Suki, your girls okay?” he asked.

“Three injured, one very bad.”

“Okay. I want you to enlist the ones in good shape. Get them to gather the female prisoners
together. We don’t know who we have here. There are well over a hundred people. Some are
refugees, some soldiers, but some might also be Fire Nation prisoners, deserters, criminals.
We need to do what we can to keep people safe, even from each other.”

He paused to check they were taking it in. They were both nodding. “With that in mind,
Sokka, I want you to try to figure out what we have. Are any of these people mixed? Are any
Fire? People who are obviously of mixed blood could also be in danger from the Earth
Kingdom prisoners when folk have calmed down enough to actually look at each other. We
need to get ahead of it.”

“And me?” Suki asked.

“I want you to find people who are useful – who can fix the wagons, those who are local to
the area, people who can care for the birds. And most importantly, healers. We have a lot of
injured and we need every bit of help we can get.”

“We’re going to have to feed these people,” Sokka said grimly. He often seemed to worry
about food, and had taken to keeping rice and nuts in his pockets, an anxiety behaviour Shen
hadn’t got around talking to him about. If it made him feel better, he wasn't even sure he
should.

“Yeah, that’s the next step,” Shen agreed. “Water and food.”

Sokka rubbed his forehead, smearing some soot around. “What are you going to do?” he
asked.

“I need to talk to my men. There are certain things that need to be discussed.”

“By certain things, you mean the Blue Spirit?”

“Maybe. I have to explain what happened, how we ended up rescuing them. And I’m not
certain I will be able to hide the Blue Spirit’s part in that.” Not least because he wasn’t sure if
the kid was just going to pitch up into the middle of the camp in full mask and still swinging
his swords.

“Okay,” Sokka said. “If you see Li...”

“I’ll send him your way. He’s okay, he’ll catch up to us shortly,” Shen reassured him, even
though his own stomach was squirming with uncertainty.

He gathered his men, taking them into a clearing close to the main campsite, and leaving only
one as a guard. He needed to be quick with this discussion, because he didn’t want to leave
the rest of the camp unsupervised. The only person not with them was Haoyu, who had
remained on the cart with the wounded. He was the one surviving earthbender from their
company, and the worst hurt. There were so few of them left, Shen was determined not to
lose him too.

Zuli was only part of the reason he needed to speak to them alone, they had to get the nasty
stuff out of the way, and it needed to be done out of earshot of the kids.

“Why did you do it?” Guo said immediately. Clearly, they were going to get right into it.
“Why did you come for us? There’s going to be no hiding it, with all these people. I assume
you’re planning to take them with us?” He looked horribly pained.

“I am. We can’t just abandon them. And I couldn’t abandon the 54th, not when there was a
chance some of you survived.”

“It was against orders, Shen.”

Shen allowed himself the luxury of leaning back against a tree. He could feel his muscles
starting to twitch with exhaustion. “I took precautions. If they captured me again, I would
have been of no use to them.” He kept his voice up, confident, but the reality was he would
be very lucky if all that happened as a consequence of his actions was the loss of his
commission. It was a frightening thought. But at least then, he might be sent back to the
ranks. He would lose what was left of his unit, but at least he would still be a soldier, at least
he would still have something. If they stripped that from him too? He thought execution
would be kinder. Who was he without the army?

“Precautions hardly matter after the fact. You still put the mission in danger by risking
capture. Huang will be forced to take action if we return.” Guo still had that pained
expression on his face.

There really was no point in lying, but there was also little to be done about it now. “It’s a
problem for another day. Right now, we have to focus on keeping ourselves and these people
alive.”

“You could leave,” Guo said, his voice low. Shen was genuinely shocked he would suggest
that at all, not so openly.

“I’m not going to desert,” Shen said firmly. “I would rather die.”

“You may get your way,” Guo snapped back, but then he sighed, taking some deep breaths.
“Was that Sokka I saw earlier?” he asked, rubbing at his shaggy beard. The lot of them
looked an unshaven mess, with the exception of Haoyu, who had failed to produce much in
the way of facial hair during his captivity.

“Yeah, it was Sokka. He had a hand in orchestrating this plan.”

“Is Hakoda here then?”

“Nope. Just the boys.” Shen sighed. He wished he could think of a way to avoid the obvious
questions, but he was just too tired.

“That kid was a firebender!” Muyang suddenly burst out, he had clearly been thinking about
that nonstop since the escape. It provided a distraction that was unfortunately likely to lead to
even more awkward questions. They had already noticed Zuli and Tu had similar accents, so
they were only a hop, skip and jump away from the awkward realisation Zuli might not be
quite as easy to categorise as he had been. It was potentially going to be an issue, and one he
needed to manage.

Shen trusted his men, and they were used to having mixed people among them. His unit had
been something of a safe haven for them. But fully Fire might be a step too far, even for
them. And a firebender? That was something else entirely.

“Was… Was he mixed?” Muyang asked, like Shen might actually know the answer to that.

“Don’t know,” Shen said shortly. “But what is becoming clear to me is that there are many
people who are more Fire than Earth who are also enemies of the Fire Nation.”

“We can’t trust them, though,” Guo said. “How can we know?”

“We might not have a choice going forward. It’s something to think about. If we lose Ba Sing
Se, then we are going to need every advantage we can get.” Advantages like friendly
firebenders. That could be a game changer, if there were enough of them, and if they were
used well.

And speaking of friendly firebenders, the other problem he was going to have to think his
way through now, was how the fuck was he going to hide the Blue Spirt from them? He
didn’t think it was possible. Assuming the kid pitched up in the middle of their retreat, he was
going to be dressed in black and carrying dual dao. He didn’t have a change of clothes on
him. The 54th knew Zuli. They were going to put it together.

That was assuming he didn’t just show up fully masked, which was a distinct possibility.
Shen rubbed at his face, trying to force himself into thinking.

“Haoyu is going to have to lose the leg,” Guo said, helpfully giving Shen something else to
worry about.

“Yeah, if he’s going to live,” Shen agreed reluctantly. “Hopefully there are healers here and
we can do what needs to be done.” He didn’t think he could bear losing someone else.

“What about the rest?” Guo asked. “Any other survivors?”

“No,” Shen said, bluntly. “They were all killed where they lay, according to the boys.”

Guo looked grief stricken, chewing at his lip in an effort to control his emotions. “We’ll have
to tell him, but let’s see if we can get Haoyu through this before we let him know.”

Shen nodded. “I want him to have some fucking hope.” It might not be enough, but it would
be better than the alternative.

Shen still hadn’t decided how to broach the Blue Spirit situation, when Zuli decided to limit
his options by lurching out of the shadows and limping into their clearing.

“Fuck!” Guo said, shocked by his sudden appearance.

Shen was kind of getting used to it.

Zuli just stood there like an awkward, masked weirdo, while the 54th stared at him in
confusion and surprise. After a long moment, the muttering began. Shen didn’t glance at his
men, though, he was examining the kid where he stood, slightly hunched with his chest
heaving.

Shen had left a sixteen-year-old to fight off half the encampment by himself. What the fuck
was wrong with him? What was wrong with everything, that was even an option he had
accepted as necessary?

There was a darker, wet looking stain on Zuli’s left pant leg, it seemed to be coming from an
injury to his upper thigh. “You hurt?” Shen asked. He didn’t want to get too close in case Zuli
was still hyped up post battle and he responded badly. Better to use words until he could be
sure the kid was fully with it.

Zuli took a moment, then shook his head.

Shen huffed at him. “Why’re you limping then? For fun? Changing your image?”

The kid grunted and sheathed his swords. He seemed like he was functioning. Steady, at least
for now.

They stared at each other. Or at least Shen assumed that’s what Zuli was doing, impossible to
tell behind the grinning mask. Shen glanced behind him at the men, who were all still staring.
Only Guo had a hand near his blade, he was watching carefully. Protective. No one else who
had seen had interpreted what the boy had done as firebending, that was a relief.

Options were limited, the obvious injury pretty much reduced their choices down to one. Zuli
turning up with the same wound as the Blue Spirit? Nah.

“Kid, I don’t think we’re going to be able to hide you. Certainly we’re going to need help if
we’re going to hide this...” He gestured at Zuli’s outfit. “From the rest of this rabble.”

Zuli took a moment to think about that, and Shen let him. It needed to be his choice. Then,
having apparently reached some sort of conclusion, probably the same one Shen had come to,
he reached up and pulled the mask away from his face.
His very, very recognisable face.

“Fuck!” Guo said again. And again, Shen could relate, having gone through the same process
using pretty much the same language, not so long ago.

“Hi,” the little rat bastard said.

Something unclenched deep in Shen’s chest, and he held out a hand towards the boy, letting
the offer be there if he wanted it. He was still surprised when the kid limped up to lean on
him, though. He must really be hurting to show that kind of weakness. He may have been
freakishly capable when it came to sneaking and fighting, but he was still only a kid. Shen
could feel him shaking with exhaustion, he could feel it in himself too, the crash waiting to
happen. He just couldn’t yet. He had to hold out.

He finally turned to look at his men. They were all gawping like a bunch of landed fish.
“Like I said, it’s complicated,” Shen said, a little wry.

“Sokka?” Zuli asked, predictably. His voice was muffled from where his face was pressed
against Shen’s chest.

“He and Suki are fine. He’s worried about you. But he’s helping the other people.” Shen
reluctantly pushed him back a bit. “We need to get you cleaned up, fixed up, and dressed in
something else. You are going to have to try to cover the swords too, just in case.”

Zuli nodded.

“Right,” Guo said. Shaking himself free of the shock and what must also be a considerable
amount of concern, knowing what he did. “Right, Muyang, find the kid a change of clothes.
Li, sit down before you fall down. Give me the mask. I’ll find something to wrap the swords.
You’ll need them close by in case we’re attacked.”

“No one is to mention this, or even talk about it with anyone outside our unit or Sokka,” Shen
said to drive the point home. “Li is just another kid we are looking after in the company. Zuli,
get changed, let someone see to your injuries. I’ll find Sokka and send him over.”

The camp appeared to be in a state of slowly organising chaos. The wounded were in one
place over by the wagons, and it looked like the women were mostly together too, so the kids
had done their tasks it seemed.

Shen found Sokka more or less in the middle of the camp. He had made a halfhearted attempt
at cleaning his face, but he looked worn, stressed and tired.

“Okay?” Shen asked as he approached.

“Li?” Sokka said instead of answering. Shen probably should have just led with that.
“He’s okay, he’s with the 54th.” Sokka looked incredibly relieved. Whether their relationship
ever went in the direction Zuli seemed to hope it would or not, the care between them was
intense and very sweet. Perhaps Shen was just getting sappy in his old age. “He’s hurt, but
not seriously. He’s still moving under his own power and still grumpy.”

“It’s probably when he stops being a surly grouch we have to worry,” Sokka agreed with a
wan smile.

“You look exhausted,” Shen told him. “Are you hurt? I didn’t ask before. Things... things
have been hectic.”

“I’m okay. It got a bit hairy at the start, though.” There was something haunted and hunted in
his gaze, and Shen wondered what had happened. What he’d seen or done. “But some soldier
guys came through, helped get things moving, helped save the people we were getting on the
carts.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah. Actually, the commander guy wanted to meet you. That okay?”

When Shen nodded, Sokka hopped up and down while waving wildly, attracting the attention
of a group of men in deep discussion. Shen watched him with amusement. He looked half
dead, and yet had chosen to leap about like an excited kitten. Teenagers.

An older man waved back and made his way over to them. He was perhaps in his fifties, tall
and had the appearance of being well built, although his prison uniform was hanging off him
and it was clear he was malnourished. Two other men followed him at a respectful distance,
guarding him. He was someone important.

“This is Commander Wei. He was the leader of some of the soldiers that were captured.”
Sokka held out a hand like he was presenting something exciting. “He was organising things
in the bigger prison sheds. A lot of the men here are from his unit.”

“Captain Shen,” Wei said, bowing politely. “I understand you orchestrated this? We have
been planning an escape for months, to actually achieve it… I can’t thank you enough.”

“I had some help,” Shen said with a small smile. There was something heavy in his gut,
imagining being stuck there, dreaming of escape, and then only some of them making it. The
strong had got out, those with friends, a unit. He suspected the weak, the disorganised and
many of the hurt had not been so lucky. But he had to put that aside. It was just one more
thing to add to his conscience.

Wei’s warm brown eyes were sharp. “The Blue Spirit,” he said with a nod. “Rescue by a folk
hero. That was something the younger men talked about, fantasised about. I told them they
were being silly.” He shook his head. “I still can’t believe it. Is he in the camp?”

“No,” Shen lied smoothly. “He comes and goes, it seems. And I haven’t seen him since the
action. I’m sure he made it out, though.”
“I saw him fight. It was… impressive. You must tell me about him when we are safe. But for
now, I wish to offer my services to help organise things to get us moving and keep us free
from the ashmakers.”

Shen bowed slightly. “I would be very grateful for that, Commander.” Wei outranked him,
and if he wanted, he could just take control of the camp, of their retreat, of everything. But it
seemed like he was willing to let Shen remain in charge. That was good, because it was
always unclear how men in command would respond to the presence of mixed troops. Even
the women prisoners could be a concern.

“Um, Shen?” Sokka asked. Shen noticed Wei raise an eyebrow, probably at the kid just
leaving off his rank. “I’m gonna go…” Sokka pointed towards where the 54th were just
entering the camp, heading for the wagons and Haoyu.

“Go, Sokka. I’ll check in soon.” The kid waved at Wei, a little haphazard, and then bolted
like his arse was on fire.

“Smart kid that one,” Wei said, as they watched Sokka run through the middle of the camp
and disappear from view. “How did you end up with a Water Tribe boy in your company?”

“That is a very long story. But, the short version is that I know his father, so it’s my duty to
care for his son as best I can.” Keeping Sokka’s part in things as boring as possible was the
best way forward. The more unremarkable he and Zuli were, the better for them.

“Is he heading for the rest of your men? I apologise for keeping you from them for so long,”
Wei said. “Perhaps we can walk as we talk?”

Shen nodded. “Tell me, Commander, how did you end up captured? I assume Sokka told you
something of our own woes?”

“Yes, a brief version, although there were still a lot of words. That boy can really talk,” Wei
said with a smile.

“You have no idea.”

“For us, it’s been months. We were fighting close to the city…”

Shen let the man’s words wash over him, keeping half an ear out for the important parts. Wei
seemed like a decent person, curious and not trying to wrest away control, despite his rank.
But Shen also felt he was being assessed, and the situation could change at any moment. He
wasn’t stupid enough to take the commander’s apparent good nature at face value.

They headed straight for the carts with the injured. Shen could see Dumpling standing next to
one of them, like a slightly sooty, furious sentry. Her saddle and packs had been removed,
and she was stretching her stubby wings and glaring at the men passing by.

Zuli and Sokka were sitting in the cart, legs dangling over the edge. Zuli was in his
underwear and a clean green shirt. His thigh was bandaged, but still soaked in fresh blood.
He and Sokka appeared to be fighting over something. As they got closer, Shen could see it
was their sewing kit.

“Guo?” Shen asked as his lieutenant joined them. He looked a little harried, haggard even. A
clear sign of attempted Zuli wrangling.

“He won’t let anyone else do it. We tried,” Guo said shortly.

“Fuck sake,” Shen said with feeling. He loved the kid, and his abrasive, obnoxious attitude,
but he was undoubtedly a complete pain sometimes. “Excuse me, Commander Wei. I have to
go deal with this,” he said, as he headed for the wagon.

Wei kept pace with him, which he wasn’t happy about, but preventing the kid from bleeding
out due to his own stubbornness was more of a priority.

Sokka was still trying to get a grip on the sewing kit. “Buddy, I’ve seen you try to sew. Let’s
not attempt that skill on your skin, okay?” he was saying.

“Like you’re any better,” Zuli snapped back. His fingers were bloodless and white with how
hard he was clutching the kit.

“Boys,” Shen said, voice hard, as he reached the cart.

“You tell him!” Sokka said, pointing a finger and losing his grip on the sewing kit.

“I’m fine,” Zuli snarled. “Check on Haoyu.” He nodded behind him, to where the other boy
was laying in the cart. He looked like he was sleeping or unconscious. Shen could see his
chest rise and fall, so he was alive at least. There was a lingering smell of sickness around
them, but the kids were either very good at ignoring the subtle stink, or had already become
used to it.

“Commander Wei, do you know of any healers in the camp who might be able to perform an
amputation?” Shen asked. He could see the colour drain out of Sokka’s face as he spoke, and
he regretted not being more careful with his words, although the reality of the situation
couldn’t really be avoided.

“Perhaps.” Wei gestured to one of the men who had been following them.

Shen left them to it and turned back to the kids. He held out a hand for the kit. “Sokka is
right, don’t go practising your sewing on your own skin. You should have let Guo do it.”

“No,” Zuli said sullenly.

“Can I do it?”

The boy looked at him. He seemed a little bleary, exhaustion and blood loss making him slow
to process. He blinked a few times. “Okay.” That shouldn’t feel so good to hear, but the trust
made Shen feel all warm inside.

“Captain,” Guo said, handing him a pot of water and a sliver of soap. “It’s been boiled.”
Shen nodded and washed his hands as thoroughly as he could before shoving Zuli over and
hopping into his place on the wagon. Sokka squished himself up, apparently reluctant to get
down, pulling his knees in close and curling his arms against his chest.

Zuli allowed Shen to take possession of his bare leg, and he dragged it onto his lap to begin
to unwrap the crude bandage. It looked like he had done that himself too, the stupid, stubborn
boy. The cut, at least, was a clean one, although deep. The edges weren’t jagged, and it
looked like it had been properly washed. Shen had to pull it a little to be sure, causing
bleeding to resume vigorously.

He patted the undamaged part of Zuli’s thigh and began sorting through the sewing kit. Most
of the spools of thread were for clothes, but there were some carefully packaged for wounds.
It wasn’t ideal, but it would do.

Wei had followed him and was watching with a carefully blank expression. He was close
enough to have seen Zuli’s eyes, but also the burn scar. As always, that tended to disarm
people who wanted to scream Fire Nation. There was no judgement on his face, but the lack
of anything in his expression was telling in of itself. Wei’s eyes were lingering on Zuli’s pale
leg. The boy had not relaxed, but he had leaned back in the wagon-bed, sprawling like a
fainting maiden, and he had shut his eyes, which was lucky, because Shen realised Wei was
actually looking at the red, scarred bite mark on Zuli’s inner thigh.

Nothing Shen could do about that though. There was no covering it while he did what needed
to be done. “I’m going to start stitching, okay?” he said instead.

“Get on with it,” Zuli grumped.

“Brat.” Shen didn’t like sewing up people, but he could detach and just do it. He could feel
Zuli’s muscles bunch under his hand as he held his leg still. The kid was still sprawled
awkwardly, but he didn’t seem inclined to move.

“They’re young to be in your unit,” Wei said with the same causal interest that had been on
his face, clearly hiding his real thoughts.

“Haoyu is the youngest actually in the 54th.” Shen nodded towards the kid, still sleeping.
Sokka was checking his temperature and examining him with an air of intense worry. “Say,
Sokka? Anything to knock a man out safely in that flower book? Or at least to stop the pain?”

Sokka looked up at him, eyes big and blue and anxious. “Er... yeah, maybe? The, um, the
flower we discussed before? A small dose of that could work. Too much and it will kill you,
though.” He was talking about the small packet Shen had in his pocket. More than enough to
kill a man, but small enough to swallow without issue.

“I’m not in your unit,” Zuli said, missing the particular tension stemming from Shen’s
question. He was slurring a little. But Shen thought it was mostly exhaustion. He was pretty
sure the kid would be fine with some sleep and some food, so he didn’t let himself worry, as
he slid his needle through flesh.

“No, you’re not under my command,” Shen agreed. “But you are under my care.”
“Am not. You’re under my care.”

Sokka snorted, and Shen scoffed. “Go to sleep, you terror,” he said.

Zuli opened one very annoyed looking yellow eye and glared. “You’re stabbing my leg with a
needle. How am I supposed to sleep through that?”

Kid had a point, but Shen ignored him, and focused on his sewing. He felt a certain amount
of relief as he finished. “Alright, I’m done. Please put some pants on and have a rest. Okay?”
He gave Zuli’s leg a final pat and hopped down from the cart.

“What about Haoyu?” Sokka asked. He looked anxious.

“I’m going to go meet commander Wei’s healer.” He glanced at the man. “Right?”

“Yes, indeed. Her reputation is impressive. I am sure she will help your friend. Come,
Captain Shen, she is with the other women folk, I believe.”

“Please, get some sleep while you can, okay?” Shen said. He didn’t think they would, and
desperately wished he could. He also probably should have put something down before
sewing, as his lap was smeared with Zuli’s blood. At least it sort of blended in with the dirt
on the horrid red pants he was still wearing. He would need to change back into his own
clothes, but despite being washed, they were currently more holes than fabric. He rubbed at
the stains as he gestured for Wei to lead on.

Wei’s healer’s name was Qinwen. She was a stout, hard faced woman with a city accent. She
looked grim when he asked how she came to be so far from the safety of Ba Sing Se’s walls.
“I went to see to the refugees,” she said shortly. “As the city wouldn’t.”

“They wouldn’t? Are they so out of space there they won’t admit people in need? I know the
Fire Nation destroyed the ferries, but some must get through anyway.”

She gave him a look. “Out of space? Well, yes and no. They have room if the city stays open,
but they know they are looking at another siege. The things that happened in the last one…
they don’t want a repeat. And the more mouths to feed, the worse it will be.”

That did not sound good. But hopefully Huang and Hakoda could bring relief to the city, save
some of the people desperate to get in. But that was a tomorrow problem. He seemed to be
building up a small army of those. He ran a hand through his hair. It felt tangled and crusted
with… stuff. Blood and sweat and dirt, probably. “One of the boys in my company is
seriously injured. In my opinion, he’s going to need to lose his leg. I would love to be proved
wrong, though. Do you think you can do it if it comes to that?”

“The sleeping one in the cart, I assume? Not the half-breed boy?” Wei said. Clearly, it wasn’t
Zuli. An uninfected sword cut hardly needed an amputation. For some reason, he was putting
that out there, but Shen wasn’t sure if he was testing the healer, testing Shen, or something
else. More fucking politics. He was too tired for it.

“No, Li is fine just being stitched.” He watched the healer’s face as he didn’t deny Zuli’s
heritage. Qinwen looked interested, but not upset. “Haoyu is a earthbender. They broke his
wrists and ankles,” he said, voice hard. “But one of the leg breaks pierced skin and has
become infected.”

“I can do it,” Qinwen said. “But I can’t promise success. Not in these conditions, and not
without everything I would normally use. Let me see your man.”

Shen led her and Wei back towards the carts. He had been hoping that Zuli and Sokka had
moved elsewhere, but instead they and Dumpling still seemed to be watching over their sick
friend. The ostrich horse had turned her ire on Guo and was glaring at him with clear intent
while he stood guard. He looked ridiculously relieved to see Shen. It would have been funny
in other circumstances.

Zuli and Sokka both turned to watch them approach. Zuli was at least now wearing pants,
although his feet were still bare. Sokka’s boots were still firmly on. Getting him to take them
off was becoming a problem. Shen sighed. Haoyu first, Sokka tomorrow.

“Interesting collection of kids you have with you, Captain Shen,” Qinwen said, watching the
boys with curiosity. “The girl who said she was part of your unit was formidable as well.”

“Suki? Yeah, she’s mean.”

Qinwen shot him a good humoured look, it somehow transformed her face from dower to
bright, and that made Shen feel a little better about things, although his heart was still heavy
and his gut still twisted.

“So, one of you brats my patient?” Qinwen asked as they approached.

Sokka seemed to perk up a bit at the unfamiliar face too. “I don’t know, what medicine have
you got?” he asked with a grin. “If you have a cure for obstinacy, then I know just the patient
for you.” He turned and poked Zuli in the shoulder. “That would be you, in case that went
over your head.”

“I got it, Sokka, you’re not as subtle or as clever as you think you are,” Zuli grumped at him
in return. “She’s here for Haoyu, not us.” He shoved his friend bodily off the cart, almost
sending him sprawling, then climbed down carefully, mindful of his bandaged leg. He was
eyeing Wei with suspicion, but Qinwen’s status as a healer seems to put him slightly at ease
with her presence. “You are?” he asked bluntly. Well, being less hostile apparently didn’t stop
him from being rude.

“Qinwen, a healer from Ba Sing Se. And you?”

“Li,” Zuli said shortly. “From...er...around.”

“Spirits above.” Sokka sounded both amused and despairing. “I’m Sokka, from the Southern
Water Tribe. Our sick friend is Haoyu. Do you think you can help him?” He was doing the
thing where his eyes became very big in his face and it was a strong person indeed that could
resist it.

Qinwen gave him another amused look and patted his shoulder as he helped her into the cart.
She tutted a bit and began her examination.

Shen grabbed hold of Sokka and pulled both boys aside. “If she can do this, when she can,
then I want you to both go make yourselves useful elsewhere, or even better, find somewhere
to take a nap.”

“I want to help,” Zuli said.

“I know, but this is not something you should see. Say your goodbyes, just in case, and I’ll let
you know when it’s done.”

“I’m not afraid,” Zuli insisted.

“It’s not about fear. If I had the choice not to see this, I wouldn’t. But I don’t, because it’s my
responsibility, Haoyu is my responsibility. You boys need to make yourselves scarce. For me,
if nothing else. I don’t want to be worrying about you, okay?”

“Alright,” Sokka said, subdued. “Don’t be stubborn,” he told Zuli. Then he looked up at Shen
with the big eyes again, this time not put on. “Shen… will he live, do you think?”

“I don’t know. It’s incredibly hard on the body, even with a healer who knows what they’re
doing. But people are resilient. They can get through unspeakable things. He may pull
through. He may get better. It’s good to have hope, and we will give him the best chance we
can.”

He finally watched them head away, towards the rest of the 54th, dread pooling in his
stomach.

“Interesting boys,” Wei said.

“Yeah. They’re good kids. Been through a lot.”

“Yes, I can see that.” Shen wondered briefly if he was thinking about Zuli’s face or the scar
on his leg. “Allow me to help with this other boy.”

Shen looked at him. “You sure? It’s going to be unpleasant.”

“Very unpleasant,” Qinwen agreed, climbing down awkwardly and brushing off her pants. “I
can’t guarantee he will survive, but I can guarantee he won’t if we don’t act. I know it sounds
harsh, but the only other option is to make sure he doest wake from his sleep, otherwise it’s a
slow horrible death. You want to give him a chance, as grim as it may be, then I need both of
you to hold him. And I need some time to prepare. Boiled water. I don’t suppose we have any
alcohol?”

“There’s a little, some strong stuff to sanitise.” Shen pointed to Sokka’s pack where
Dumpling was still glaring over the saddlebags. “Don’t know if it will be enough.”

“It’s better than nothing. I’ll give you a list of what I need, and then we should take him away
from camp. Nothing lowers morale like screaming, bleeding, kids.”

Shen felt a little sick, but she wasn’t wrong. “Okay.”

“It’s going to be ugly, Captain Shen. Very hard if you care for the boy,” Wei said. “I could get
my men…”

“No,” Shen interrupted. “No, he’s one of mine. The ugliness is all the more reason for it to be
me, although I appreciate your assistance and the offer.” He took a breath. “Let’s do this.”

Shen was ready to drop. It had been a long night. Long and hard and awful. He had scrubbed
the blood off himself, but couldn’t quite scrub the images from his brain. At least Haoyu had
a chance now, having survived the initial operation, but it would be touch and go for the next
few days.

He found he had wandered back towards the boys. They were a little apart from the rest of
the men lying in a small huddle. Cuddling like puppies. Very sad and distressed puppies.
Shen should leave them to it, find somewhere else to catch a few hours. But he was miserable
and cold and he had given their one blanket to Haoyu in the desperate hope he would live
until morning. He should have been the one sitting with him, rather than Muyang, but he
couldn’t just yet. The past few hours were just too raw in his mind.

He needed to check on Suki too. She had been well enough earlier, and was with her girls.
But being well in body was only half the concern. He just didn’t have it in him at the
moment.

He wanted to be warm and to sleep for a day, but would take a few hours. Guo would monitor
things, and Shen was aware he was not thinking as clearly as he should be.

“You boys alright?” he asked, thumping down next to them.

“Yeah,” Zuli’s voice was muffled from where his face was pressed into the top of Sokka’s
head. Sokka was horribly quiet, his face pushed somewhere under Zuli’s chin. He was clearly
awake from the tension in the fist clenched in his friend’s shirt.

“Mind if I sleep here?”

“Yeah. It’s fine,” Zuli said, quietly.

Shen flopped backwards with a groan, stretching on the cold ground. “I’m just getting a few
hours. Just a few. So I can think,” he said. He sounded slurred and stupid with exhaustion,
even to his own ears.

“A good start is shutting up,” Zuli muttered at him.

Shen grinned. “You are such a brat.”

Zuli grunted, annoyed.

“You know, you can make it up to me. I’m kind of cold,” Shen said, with the grin still in his
voice. It was only polite to ask permission for closer contact, and he felt for Zuli, it was
especially important to give him agency.

“I’m not a fucking blanket,” the kid said grumpily, but there was warmth there too.

“Nah, you’re far too small to be useful as a blanket.”

Sokka let out an amused, muffled noise from where he was still squished against Zuli’s chest.
“Will you two please stop bitching and sleep?” he said. At least their bickering seemed to
have made him feel a little better, or at least enough to join in.

Shen turned onto his side and pulled Zuli’s too warm body against him, bringing Sokka with.
He wrapped an arm around both boys, and was gratified to feel Sokka relax under the hand
that was draped over his back. Zuli seemed fine with the contact, which continued to surprise
him. It seemed once he had gotten used to the idea, and found Shen acceptable in his head,
then he actually appeared to like the physical closeness. Although he still grumbled and
growled, it was obviously just for show. It was still only ‘Team Steam’ who were permitted
such liberties, though. Shen was fairly sure if anyone else touched him he’d take their hand
off, probably with his teeth.

Team Steam, what an utterly ridiculous name. He agreed with Zuli on that one, but sided with
Sokka on principle, and to make Zuli sulk at him.

He could feel the kid ease into sleep finally. It still felt weird to be cuddling a firebender, but
with this kind of chill in the air, with his bones aching from exhaustion, he could kind of see
the appeal.

………………………..

There was something about the way the air smelled when they entered Fire Nation waters,
something fragrant that eased Kazuma’s heart a little. Although perhaps his perception of that
was just a fancy, something reassuring to cling to after a difficult week.
And it had been a very difficult week.

He shifted where he stood at the ship’s rail, looking out over the sea, choppy in the strong late
morning breeze. He resisted the urge to rub his head where lack of sleep and stress was
causing an aching, pounding behind his eyes.

Kazuma had appointed his best lieutenant to look after repairs at Lao River Fort, and then he
had left, taking only Ichika. Something that played on his mind almost as much as the anxiety
about what might have happened if he had stayed. It felt like he was abandoning the men and
women stationed there, although he had left instructions and overseen the necessary orders
for both repairs and restocking. Leaving had been the only sensible option, if he had
remained, things may have gone poorly for him.

Understanding the law, and being aware of precedent, meant you could manipulate it to your
own ends. In his letter to Tsing, Kazuma had been very careful to lay out all the ways in
which his course of action had not only been legal and the very opposite of desertion but also
right and necessary for Tsing’s own glory. It had been a little heavy-handed, comparing the
man to his own favourite historical general, and also using a case from that general’s rather
colourful military history to illustrate Kazuma’s own actions.

It had been enough to convince the men, whether it was enough to convince Tsing was a
problem for another day, as he was currently out of the general’s reach and heading towards
his first and only stop on the way to Caldera.

His mind felt a little fuzzy from exhaustion and he could feel the tension headache building
to a crescendo. He was suffering from too little sleep. In part due to worry, and in part
because what rest he had, came with base, inappropriate dreams. It had been years since he’d
had this problem, and it was disturbing, shameful and he only had himself to blame.

He had allowed himself a moment to fantasise, to wish things were different, that he could
have the forbidden things he wanted, to give in to the temptations he had sworn never to
submit to again. It had only been a brief lapse, but it had somehow undone him.

He took some deep breaths of salty air and automaticity checked his uniform was unwrinkled
and well pressed, grounding and reassuring himself. He hadn’t bothered with armour,
preferring his light robes now they were heading into warmer climes. If he was being sensible
and not allowing himself to be consumed with guilt and panic, he could see that what had
actually disconcerted him so much was the fact that he had nearly died several times last
week. He knew how close he had come to Capitan Shen slitting his throat, even though the
man had seemed vaguely reluctant to do so. He had then been sure the Blue Spirit was going
to finish the job, but the boy had merely asked if he had harmed his friend, and accepted his
answer when Kazuma said he had not. He had been shocked at the naivety, he could have
easily been lying, but had been even more surprised at being released with nothing more than
another scratch on his throat.

That would be enough to make most men feel out of sorts, but the fact that it was the subject
of his brief interest who had nearly killed him several times during that night may have made
things a little… tangled in his mind. Resulting in the current situation.
Thinking it through like that made him feel a little better, and he was further cheered by the
sight of Ichika staggering onto the deck. Only two hours late. Although her bending was very
weak, she was still a firebender and presumably she also rose with the sun. And then
apparently went right back to sleep. The woman had never been on time for a morning
meeting in her life.

She also did not do well on boats.

She stumbled over to him like the ship was rolling rather than the slight sway that the current
breeze was causing. She clutched at the rail with both hands like she was afraid the ship
would deliberately tip her over if she didn’t. “I hate this,” she muttered bitterly. Bits of her
topknot had come loose and were flying wildly around her face in the wind. There were dark
shadows under her eyes, and her skin was very pale. She clutched the rail and glared at him
like it was his fault their homeland was an island.

“Would you rather go below?” Kazuma asked, ignoring the scowl on her face. “Some ginger
tea to settle your stomach?”

“I’ve had enough of below,” she snarled weakly.

She certainly had spent quite a lot of yesterday and last night in her cabin, set next door to
Kazuma’s own. Something that had proved useful. If there was anything that helped get rid of
unwanted, immoral thoughts, then violent, angry vomiting sounds were probably it.

It had not put her in a good mood, though. “I hope you know that this course of action is
stupid,” she said.

Kazuma sighed. “I thought you wanted me to leave Lao River Fort?” Even thinking about it
made his stomach flip uncomfortably and he cracked his knuckles in a familiar anxious
gesture.

Faster than lightning, Ichika whipped a brush out of a sleeve and struck him across the top of
his fingers. “Don’t, I can’t stand it.”

He glared back at her. The brush had left an ink stain. He hated having dirty hands, and was
forced to dig around in his pockets for a handkerchief.

She looked pleased with his irritation as he futilely scrubbed at the dark smear over his
knuckles. “I wanted you to leave, but not to go to Caldera, not to go after Zhao,” she said
with clear frustration in her voice.

“I believe he can lead me to the Blue Spirit. And If what Captain Shen said is true, then I also
have a duty to get the man removed from his position.”

“You won’t be able to prove what Captain Shen said. Not for that boy.”

“I know. But I doubt it’s the first time he has abused his power in such a way.” He was
certain of it. Unpleasant rumours had surfaced before, but had been dismissed as slander.

“This is a very dangerous course of action,” Ichika tried again.

He had to wonder if she knew something that he didn’t. Either that or she was also disturbed
by her own close shave with the Water Tribe boy, and their near disaster with Tsing, which
still very much had the possibility of blowing up in their faces if he didn’t get some kind of
result on the Blue Spirit situation. “I will be careful. I will investigate, and see if evidence can
be found before confronting him with it,” he reassured her.

Ichika scoffed at him, letting go of the rail with one hand to stuff some of her errant hair back
into its bindings. “And if you don’t find the evidence?”

He opened his mouth to try reassurance again, but shut it when her hand went back to
hovering next to the sleeve with that damned brush in it.

“Kazuma, do you remember what happened last time you went to Caldera?”

He pursed his lips. He was clearly not supposed to answer, just listen to the oncoming rant. It
had been two years ago, just before his rather quick transfer to General Tsing’s unit, back
when the Blue Spirit had only a single raid under his belt.

Ichika was still cross with him.

She scowled up at him. “The last time you tried to take down someone you believed had
done wrong?”

“Masuda had done wrong. He was embezzling funds and robbing citizens of the colonies
with threats of violence. It’s not my fault that the establishment wouldn’t accept the evidence
of people who were mostly of Earth Kingdom blood. If they’re our subjects, they should be
subject to our laws and that means they receive the protection of those laws as well as
punishment.” Apparently, he was also still angry about the whole affair. Kazuma made an
effort to lower his voice back down. “If we are going to call them citizens and collect their
taxes, then they should be able to stand up in court and be heard and believed when there is
evidence to suggest they are telling the truth!”

Ichika breathed out, loud and inelegant. “But that’s not how things work. Fairness has very
little to do with it, as you well know.” She looked disgusted. The situation had upset and
frustrated her too. She just didn’t agree with how he had dealt with it. “There was no hope of
bringing him to trial,” Ichika continued grimly. “And yes, I agree he was clearly guilty.” She
was on a roll now. “So, accepting that you couldn’t legally bring him to justice, you annoyed
him into challenging you to an Agni Kai.” She huffed another breath, angry and with a little
residual anxiety.

“Which I won.” He felt guilty for how much she had worried. Not for the man’s death,
however, that had been no great loss to the world.

“By the skin of your teeth, Kazuma. He was a very powerful bender, whereas you are
painfully average.”

“You don’t have to be the strongest person in the ring to win a fight, Ichika, just the
smartest.”
She gave him a very familiar, almost comforting look of pure aggravation and poorly
concealed frustration. “You were lucky. Not in the fight, I will grant you that. You had his
measure and took him out with almost embarrassing ease. But after. I managed to get you out
of there without compounding the situation, but he had allies, and if he had not also been
suspected of embezzling from his own people, they would have taken you down, and they
would not have done it ‘legally.’”

“What’s your point?” May as well get the lecture over with.

“Sometimes all the smarts in the world can’t save you from a corrupt system or someone with
powerful friends.”

“I doubt Zhao has any friends. The man is obnoxious.”

“And you are being deliberately obtuse! Zhao is in favour with the Fire Lord. Have you ever
considered the reason he is in favour is not because of his winning personality, but because he
is useful in some way?” She waved an angry fist up at him, long sleeve flapping in the wind.
“The Fire Lord will not thank you for taking out his asset. In fact, he may order your
execution for it, and I can guarantee that Zhao will attend it with great satisfaction.”

“He can’t order my execution if I don’t break the law,” Kazuma pointed out. She was
speaking the truth, but it hardly mattered.

“Ha!” She waved both her hands at him in rage, apparently forgetting her need to hold on to
the rail and her bad stomach. “If they want you to go down, all they have to do is make
something up!”

Or dig for past transgressions. Something that would be very unfortunate. “I will be careful,
Ichika.”

She grabbed back on to the rail, looking sick and exhausted. “I fear that your idea of careful
and mine are very different.”

“I thought we could attempt to find further information first,” he said placatingly. “I thought
to stop at Shu Jing.”

“I thought you weren’t going to ask Piandao what he knows?”

Kazuma shrugged. “No harm in asking. I won’t push. Unless you have an objection to us
going there?”

“No. Why would I?” She looked out at the choppy sea. Not obviously avoiding his eyes, but
certainly not meeting them.

Kazuma couldn’t prove it, and he would never ask, but he thought there was something
between them. What it was, he had no idea. But something more than a love of Pai Sho. He
had always suspected Piandao had a hand in Ichika coming into his life. She had appeared at
a low point and helped him, lifted him up. Even back then, he had decided he wouldn’t
mention it, as no matter how or why she had joined him, they were now firm friends, and he
didn’t doubt the sincerity of that bond for a moment.

Even if they did drive each other a little mad at times.

There was something calming about Shu Jing, about the whole island really. Perhaps it was
just memory and familiarity, but Kazuma found himself enjoying the journey to Piandao’s
home. He allowed himself to appreciate the beautiful scenery as they travelled.

The scent of the flowers, just beginning to bloom, reminded him of his own childhood home.
It had been over twenty years since he had visited, but there were a few good memories, at
least. Mostly of his sister, who had been very young at the time he had left, but had continued
to reach out to him when she had achieved an age she could do so.

Yume would be free soon, if all went well. She would finally be allowed to wed the man she
had been in love with since childhood. Kazuma had received many letters on the subject, at
first childish declarations of love, and then later, angry railing against their parents who
denied her. The object of her affections was a second son, not likely to inherit any of his
mother’s lands. Whereas Yume being the sole heir to their father’s estate made her a very
valuable prize.

Yume, it turned out, was just as stubborn as he was, and she had resisted all attempts to marry
her off to anyone else, holding out for her lover. And it seemed fate had united them through
tragedy, with the loss of her suitor’s older brother in the fighting, thus making him a suddenly
far more marriageable prospect in their parent’s eyes.

And if people spoke about why their father had passed over his son and banished him to die
in the army, then it wasn’t something Kazuma had heard. He suspected the fact his father had
a son still living had been thoroughly covered up, and Kazuma had no intention of ruining his
sister’s happiness with a scandal reminding them. Even though he really wouldn’t mind
screwing his parents over.

Because he had been expected to die in the army. Quiet and bookish, he didn’t have the
temperament for it, and as he had entered the service in disgrace, penniless, with his hair
shorn, he had been at the bottom. Just a foot soldier. He wasn’t well respected, his abilities
were unremarkable, he was destined to be dead and forgotten during his first campaign.

His father had underestimated his level of resilience. Despite his studious nature, he was
neither timid nor the sort of person who just gave up. That, and the pure luck of ending up
under a maverick captain, who had seen Kazuma’s grief and disillusionment, and instead of
discarding him as a lost cause, had instead cultivated his strengths. His intelligence, his
tenacity, and surprising aptitude with a sword. Something that was looked down on in
firebenders, but it wasn’t like he could get any lower.

Piandao had saved his life, and he owed the man a debt that he could only pay back with
continued friendship.
Upon arrival, they were first shown to their rooms, allowing them to leave their bags. Ichika
insisted she would take a nap, which Kazuma decided not to question. Instead, he followed
Fat through the house to see his old friend.

Piandao was painting the scene from his window when he arrived. He turned to look at them
and smiled. “Kazuma, you look well.”

Kazuma was well aware he did not look well. As rejuvenating as parts of the journey had
been, he was still exhausted, and he had removed the bandages from his throat, leaving the
vicious healing wounds visible. He looked like someone had attempted to use his neck as a
cutting board. “Thanks,” he said dryly.

Piandao shot him an amused look at his tone, and ushered him to the low table. Fat
materialised again with a tea set, beautiful in its simplicity, and elegant in its shape. He also
produced a tray of the honey cakes Ichika was so fond of.

“I hear you’re stationed with Tsing. I wouldn’t have thought that was much fun for you,”
Piandao said. He was sitting in a relaxed manner, which Kazuma couldn’t bring himself to
copy, instead sitting in perfect seiza, finding comfort in the familiar feel of it.

“He’s clever, but cruel,” Kazuma said. “Not that he finds particular pleasure in it, just that he
doesn’t care for anything but his own ambition, and it doesn’t matter who is hurt in his
pursuit of it. His men, his subjects and his people suffer.” He could hear the contempt in his
own voice, but made no effort to remove it. “I have no choice but to do what I’m asked.”

“Told.”

“What?” Kazuma blinked at the flat delivery of the word.

“You do what you’re told. Asked implies a choice.” Piandao checked the temperature of the
tea and lifted the pot to pour. The light scent of his personal blend rose, fresh and soothing.

“Semantics aside. My current task is to track down the Blue Spirit.”

Piandao nodded. “He was a menace before. Freeing the Avatar has made him a threat.”

“What do you know of him?”

“Is this a business call, then?” Piandao didn’t sound upset, just mildly interested.

Kazuma picked up his teacup, cradling it gently. “I suppose it is. I have other avenues I can
go down for information, and if you have things you would rather not share, I will accept that
with no prejudice to our friendship.”

Piandao looked at him, his expression curious. His fingers were tracing the delicate red line
work on his cup, a slow, deliberate motion. “What could I possibly know? It sounds to me
you have dug out more information than those before you.” He looked intrigued, but not
surprised. They had known each other a long time, and Kazuma’s tenacity and intensity had
probably given him many a headache over the years. As well as provided a continued source
of amusement.

“I compiled a lot of information, but very little of it made sense until recently, when I had a
far more personal encounter.”

“Oh? You were there when he raided Lao Fort?”

“I was. I spoke to him.”

“You spoke to him?”

“Yes. I took a prisoner in a raid, an Earth Kingdom captain, who it seems meant something to
the Blue Spirit. He followed us to Lao Fort and blew most of it up. Took me prisoner in turn.”
He rubbed at his neck. The cuts itched.

Piandao watched the motion of his fingers. “But didn’t kill you.”

“No, and not for lack of opportunity. There were casualties, but not nearly as many as there
should have been.” He hadn’t forgotten the lurching horror of realising the barracks had been
destroyed, and the almost dizzying relief of discovering Capitan Shen had been right. The
first blast had provided enough warning for the soldiers to leave their beds and escape.
People had died, but it was not the slaughter it could have been.

“I must confess, although I have vaguely followed the gossip, I don’t know much about him,”
Piandao said.

“A possible oversight,” Kazuma replied, perhaps with a bit more bite than necessary.

The other man raised an eyebrow.

“I’ve seen him fight. I would bet everything I own he was trained by you, or by someone who
learned under you,” Kazuma said, watching carefully.

The other eyebrow rose to meet its mate. “I have trained people who are of mixed heritage,
and over the years, some from the Earth Kingdom, too. Although I’m sure that might be
considered treason to say.”

Kazuma winced. “If you could avoid admitting such things to me, I would be grateful.”

Piandao snorted, dark eyes bright with amusement.

It seemed a shame to ruin the mood, but Kazuma was going to have to keep pressing forward
if he wanted any answers. “I don’t think he’s Earth, I doubt he’s even mixed. He’s well born
and from Caldera. Between fourteen and twenty years old, probably somewhere in the middle
of that. Currently goes by the name Li, which is almost certainly false and he uses dual dao,
as you know. I presume you teach them less than you do a single blade.”

There was a narrow speculative look on Piandao’s face for a second.

“You have thought of someone?”

Piandao shook his head, pouring more tea, giving himself a moment to think. “No one
living,” he said at last.

“You are sure?”

“Yes.” His lips pursed unhappily. He was sad or regretful about that.

“You are certain he’s dead? This boy you thought of? You must have trained him recently,
within the last five or six years, given his age.” Kazuma knew he was being harsh, as it was
clear from the expression on Piandao’s face he was upset. That he had cared for this person at
some level.

“I’m certain. I heard rumours and had them verified from a source close to him. The boy is
dead.” He took a measured breath. “I suspect then, that perhaps it is a student of one of my
students.”

Kazuma breathed out, frustrated. That wasn’t impossible to pin down—as long as he had the
time to devote to it. A decade maybe. Piandao had taught many people over the years,
although he took on far fewer now.

Piandao poured more tea. “You said you have other avenues?”

“I do. They are likely to be dangerous, and it might be best if I don't discuss my plans.”

“Nonsense. Perhaps I can help. And it’s not like I’m going to spill any secrets.”

Kazuma considered him for a moment. The knowledge he had was unlikely to put his friend
in danger, and Piandao would never reveal it. “The Blue Spirit was held captive by Admiral
Zhao for a time. From what I have learned, Zhao did some pretty reprehensible things during
this period.”

Piandao’s hand stopped with his teacup on the way to his mouth, just for a second. Kazuma
didn’t know what it meant, but something in that bit of information had changed things. The
man was a master at keeping his feelings off his face, but that one tiny moment had revealed
something. Kazuma just didn’t know what it was yet.

“When did this capture take place?” Piandao asked, his voice not changing in inflection from
what it had been before. “Was Zhao aware that he had the Blue Spirit?”

“A few months ago. And yes, I believe he knew, and I believe he did not report it. Instead,
choosing to keep the boy captive and extract his own form of revenge.” Kazuma looked up at
Piandao under his lashes. His friend was calm and composed, sipping his tea with a delicate
hand.

Kazuma was torn for a moment. If that brief pause had been because he knew who the boy
was, or thought he did, then perhaps Kazuma could get another reaction if he went into detail
about Zhao’s alleged crimes. If he was correct and Piandao cared for this boy, surely his fate
would cause some sort of response.
He gave himself a moment to think, looking into his cup, casting his mind back. Captain
Shen had said Ro had to recapture the boys because they had escaped, and if that had been
discovered, they would have been in a great deal of trouble. One way to put off discovery
would be to officially kill them. If they were to have been reported killed during an escape,
by execution or sickness, then all Zhao and Ro had to do was dispose of them and the whole
embarrassing problem went away. If the story was that Li had been killed in this way, and
that was the tale that Piandao had heard and verified… then the boy might not be as dead as
previously thought. And they both knew it.

He felt a little frisson of excitement, the feeling he got when whatever the tangled knot of
information he was struggling with started to unravel. It just took some careful picking at the
strings to start the process. It was in his nature to find those little weaknesses, to spot them,
exploit them, and uncover information. But Piandao was his friend, and he had precious few
of them. Two, actually. And he didn’t want to cause him hurt if he had cared about the boy.

But the urge to dig and pick away was strong. He put his teacup down. Breathing deep and
enjoying the faint smell of flowers and incense. Fire Nation smells he had been too long
without, stuck in the colonies.

“You know who he is,” Kazuma said at last.

“I do not.”

“You suspect.”

Piandao sipped his tea. “Tell me more about Zhao and this boy. You believe he knows his
identity? What passed between them? What information do you have?”

Kazuma considered him quietly. “It’s not pleasant. I believe it to be true, but it was shared
with me by an Earth Kingdom prisoner.”

“The one the Blue Spirit rescued.”

“Indeed. And he could have been lying.” Talking about his interactions with Captain Shen
made him feel vaguely uncomfortable. Guilty in mind, if not in body.

“But you don’t think so.”

“Unfortunately, no I don’t.”

“Tell me,” Piandao looked entirely composed, but also perhaps braced for unpleasantness. He
also knew of Zhao’s reputation.

Kazuma again felt guilt heavy in his stomach. He didn’t want to share this if it was going to
cause harm. “Are you certain? What I say cannot be unheard.”

“Very certain,” his voice was cool, with a slight undercurrent of anger, but not at Kazuma.

“Zhao took two boys prisoner at the North Pole,” Kazuma began carefully, keeping a close
eye on his friend’s face. “The son of Chief Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe, and ‘Li’,
who I believe to be the Blue Spirit. According to Captain Shen, both boys are about sixteen.”

Piandao remained quiet, but he had the look of a man preparing to control his emotions.

“He tortured them while he attempted to ransom Hakoda’s son back to him. At some point,
his abuse of Li became sexual. At least one other man on his crew took part in this also,
Lieutenant Ro, currently an acting captain.” He could hear the sneer in his voice, and took a
moment to control his own responses, smoothing out a sleeve that had become a little creased
and calming himself down. “I don’t know how long it went on for, or exactly what happened.
But Captain Shen grew quite distressed describing the physical injuries the boy has suffered
as a result. I believe they care for each other strongly.”

He paused to examine Piandao’s face. His mouth was tight, but otherwise he remained
looking calm, breathing easy, although there was something in his eyes that looked like a
storm. He was angry. Very angry.

“They escaped. I’m uncertain of the details, but they were lucky enough to run into Hakoda’s
fleet, and Captain Shen’s unit. Ro wrote to Tsing, told him they had tracked the Blue Spirit
and asked for men and weapons. Tsing sent me.” He could feel the shame and disgust again.
At his inaction, of letting Ro do what he had done, although his options had been limited, if
he had wanted to keep his head on his shoulders, at least.

“Ro massacred a village of civilians,” Kazuma admitted. He was complicit and should own
his guilt. “He took prisoners, including the captain I spoke of. He tortured them. I could only
save the one man, and even he, I was forced to leave for an hour in Ro’s care.”

“This weighs on your mind.”

“Of course. I followed my orders. I did what I could, but it shouldn’t have happened at all.”

“Tell me about your interaction with the Blue Spirit,” Piandao asked, changing the subject,
which Kazuma was pathetically grateful for. “You spoke to him, you said? You were clearly
in close proximity, you must be able to describe him to some extent.”

Kazuma shrugged, his light robes shifting with the motion. “He was masked and fully
covered, there was no skin showing. He was about five-foot-five, give or take an inch,
although the mask throws it off a bit. He had a slim build, but again, it was hard to tell with
the clothing.” Kazuma thought back to the moment he had heard the boy speak. “His voice
was very distinctive. I would recognise it again. At the time, I admit I was mostly just
shocked by his accent. I have never had a report of him speaking before. But he seemed
unable to resist arguing with Captain Shen.” He smiled a little. A very odd friendship.

“Anything else of note?”

“Ichika met the Water Tribe boy the same night. They were still travelling together, at least
until that point. He was searching through Tsing’s desk. He questioned her about executed
prisoners, and gave her a list of names. I’m not sure what they were looking for.”

“What names?”
“Second Lieutenant Chāo, Captain Minato, General Iroh, Chancellor Hiroto and Captain
Wang,” Kazuma rattled off. “I have no idea who Wang is.”

Piandao said nothing. His lack of reaction felt like a reaction in itself. When they were done
here, Kazuma was going to have to revisit that list and look into everyone on it. “Has this put
your mind at rest or solidified your suspicions?” he asked.

Piandao took his time in answering. “It is highly unlikely…” He took a breath. “That Zhao
would have the audacity is…” he trailed off. “I don’t know what to make of it. But what I
will tell you, is that I will not share my suspicions with you.” He sounded like the man who
had single handedly fought off an army. He was not going to budge. Kazuma accepted that,
despite the disappointment.

“However, I will look further for proof. If it is...” he paused again. Kazuma had never seen
his friend so thrown by something. “If what I suspect is true, you must drop your
investigation,” he said at last.

Kazuma was shocked. “Drop it? Why? Who or what could possibly be reason for that?”

“For your own safety, and for that of the boy.”

“He’s a criminal, wanted dead or alive. His safety is already rather compromised.” And why
would Piandao care? Even if it was someone he had trained, he was a fugitive, and he was
attacking their nation, their people. Although admittedly, mostly the ones Piandao disliked.

“Perhaps,” Piandao said. “And the threat to your own skin doesn’t concern you?”

“My skin is hardly in any more danger than it usually is. People don’t like what I do.”

“Zhao will kill you if he even gets a sniff of this, and so will many other powerful people.
Very powerful.”

“He is nobly born, then?”

Piandao gave him an annoyed look tinged with both frustration and affection. “Kazuma, for
the sake of our friendship, drop this. I don’t want to see you killed over it.”

Kazuma cracked his knuckles, one after the other, the feel of it comforting. “Even if I wanted
to, I could not. If I don’t get a result for Tsing... Well, let’s just say someone needs to take the
blame for what happened at Lao Fort. And the most convenient person is me. If I don’t give
him something, I’m as good as dead anyway.”

Piandao shook his head. “I don’t even know if what I suspect is true. It does line up in some
ways, but it is also very unlikely. But if it is... If it is, it could have some serious
repercussions. Everybody who knows anything, who even might know, could be in danger.
You need to understand the seriousness of this. They will kill Ichika. They may kill your
family if they think you have communication with them.”

“I don’t.” Well, his sister. They wrote to each other, but they did so carefully and indirectly, to
avoid any loss of face on her part through associating with him.
Who could this boy be, that it could cause such concern? Why? The son of someone
important, obviously. He had assumed a bastard, but if it wasn’t, that could be even worse.
For a moment, he considered Jianjun, Tsing’s son. He was the right age, headstrong and
difficult. But he had not trained under Piandao, at least to Kazuma’s knowledge, and he
would not make friends with an Earth Kingdom peasant, no matter his rank.

So, no, not him, but someone like him. Someone disillusioned enough with the Fire Nation to
actively fight it. Kazuma had a lot of information now. He felt if he could just lay it out and
look at it together, he would find his answer. Of course, no matter what happened with the
Blue Spirit. He was still going to go after Zhao and by extension, Ro, for their crimes.

“Kazuma, stop thinking. I can feel the wheels turning from over here,” Piandao said, wryly.
“Please, please drop this.”

Kazuma said nothing, and his friend sighed. “Would you like to spar?” Piandao asked.

Kazuma accepted the change in direction. The subject of Li’s identity was closed. “You will
shame me. I don’t devote the time I should to practise. Although I find it soothing for my
mind and body.”

“People do not expect a firebender to be skilled in the sword. Keeping up your skill could
save your life. Could give you the advantage against another firebender.”

“You expect me to have to fight my own?”

“If you continue down this path? Yes. I’m certain of it.” Piandao rose to his feet with a rolling
grace. “But it’s more than that. The world is on the cusp of change. The Avatar has returned,
and he is opposing the Fire Nation. Does that not concern you?”

Kazuma also stood. He had honestly not given much thought to the Avatar. Unless he was
instructed to hunt him down, he was someone else’s concern. He was more worried about
talk that seemed to skirt the edges of sedition. “You are treading close to things I would rather
not have to arrest you for,” he said dryly.

“I deserted the army. They couldn’t arrest me. What makes you any different?”

Kazuma snorted, stretching his back and rolling his shoulders. “Well, I admit, I wouldn’t
stand a chance. And if we are being honest, I wouldn’t even try. You are my friend, after all.
But you should know it makes me feel very conflicted and guilty that I can’t arrest you, even
if you are making treasonous mutterings.”

“Oh dear. Surely not.” Piandao smiled, warm and affectionate, then gave him a narrow-eyed
look. “Imagine a life where you could be free of those conflicts.”

“Not in my lifetime,” Kazuma said.

Piandao shrugged. “Perhaps. But perhaps change is not such a bad thing, hmm?” He gestured
for them to head to the yard, where no doubt he would pummel Kazuma into submission.
 He decided not to think about the Blue Spirit, the Avatar or any of his other anxieties, at least
for the next hour.

Chapter End Notes

The amazing Bearave drew some sketches of Shen, Find them HERE please go give
them some love!

Next chapter: Sokka and Suki both struggle with their decisions, Zuko is
uncompromising, and tensions in the camp come to a head, leaving Shen in an
impossible position. Also, Dumpling vents her frustrations. It’s not helpful, but makes
everyone feel a little better, regardless.
 Chapter 23
Chapter Summary

He felt like he would quite like to stick his head in a pillow and scream.

Chapter Notes

So… I did that thing again where the chapter got too long to manage so I’m splitting it
in half – sorry! The other half is finished and with my long suffering beta reader, so it
will be out in the next week or so. (I may also see if I can sneak an extra POV in there,
depending)

So here is part one of Shen’s no good, very bad day.

Warnings: Violence, angst, racist langue toward people with mixed heritage, violence,
threat, mention of waterboarding.

Many thanks to my beta burkesl17, who has managed to wrangle my dyslexic nonsense.
All mistakes are my own.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Running a moving camp made up of a mixture of civilians and soldiers was nothing like a
normal army unit. They had no supplies, no money, nothing to transport water in. Their
situation had been dire right from the outset. And it only got more complicated; other
refugees had joined them, not those from East Lake, just displaced, frightened people.
Including women and children who had risked potential threat from these soldiers, in order to
gain protection from the Fire Nation ones.

The responsibility for them all was weighing heavily on Shen. Keeping them alive was only
half the battle, keeping order was far harder. Wei had proved an invaluable asset, helping
control the soldiers, many of whom were from his own unit, and offering advice, which Shen
took with gratitude.

There was a feeling of unease centred around having the civilians in with the soldiers, and
considerable amounts of mistrust towards those who obviously had Fire Nation blood, or
unfortunately, those just suspected of it. Not even the children were spared the suspicion, and
there were more than a few with obvious mixed heritage.

Food and water were the essentials. The first time they had passed an abandoned farm, Shen
had felt guilty raiding it. But once they dug out an extra cart, some barrels to fill with fresh
water, a few cow-pigs and some old sacks of grain, he set up scouting parties to find more.

They amassed dried food, even some fresh fruit and vegetables, some livestock, and a few
extra ostrich horses, although these were not bred for war, just pulling carts and carrying
people. A burnt-out army camp yielded some tents, blankets and cook pots, but there was
never enough. People were hungry, frightened, and that made the feeling of tension grow.
Some days it felt like it was a physical thing, pressing against them, a constant pressure.

It was a powder keg waiting for the flame to set it off. Shen wasn’t alone in feeling that way,
the entire camp was on edge and the anticipation of the explosion was adding more and more
fuel to power the blast when it inevitably came.

And when there was an explosive disaster looking for a spark, it seemed to know just where
to go to get what it needed.

Zuli was always going to be a problem. He and Sokka were sharing Shen’s command tent,
which was a complicated decision that caused as many issues as it solved. It implied
favouritism and took away from Shen’s image as a strong impartial leader, but Shen didn’t
want them out of his sight. Partly because of the possibility Ro was still tracking them, and
partly because he didn’t trust all the people in the camp. Unfortunately, a consequence of that
was the possibility of resentment among the men. To mitigate this, he made sure to put both
boys to work, and that probably would have been fine if it had just been Sokka and not also a
kid with such obvious Fire Nation blood. He was kept away from meetings with Wei and he
ate with the men, not with Shen, but people still didn’t seem to like it.

Shen knew at some point there was going to be an explosion, and he was keeping a close eye
on the things he thought might set it off, but it turned out he had neglected to think through
all the possible flash-points, so when it happened, it still managed to take him by surprise.

Sokka had been avoiding Suki like she had the pox. Rather than being pleased by this, Zuli
had unexpectedly become something of a liaison between Suki and the women’s camp and
Shen and the men’s. The kid checked in with her multiple times a day. They didn’t seem to
have discussions, or even a casual chat, they either just scowled and grumbled at each other,
or they patrolled together. Shen hadn’t really figured out what it was about, but it put him in
mind of a herding dog, anxious when its flock was separated. Which was both an amusing
image and also a little sad if he thought about it too much.

Suki had clearly been going through her own stuff. She looked drawn and sad, and Shen
really wished he’d had more time to speak to her. As it was, he was already stretched thin
trying to deal with the multiple issues that sprung up every day within the camp. He barely
had time for the boys and he was sharing sleeping quarters with them.

He was following a few paces behind, as Zuli checked in with Suki for the second time that
day, probably to walk the perimeter, and leaving Sokka to finish taking stock of their meagre
supplies. Shen wasn’t sure if the job was helpful or hurtful given his food related anxiety, but
he was good at it, and able to memorise a shocking amount of information. The inventory
was giving Shen his own amount of sleepless nights—feeding the camp enough to keep them
moving, let alone healthy was a real challenge, and he was also hyper aware of what the boys
were eating. Aside from the anxiety issue Sokka was suffering, Zuli needed additional
calories that he wasn’t getting, but Shen also couldn’t spare extra food for them. He hadn’t
added their personal supplies to the camps’ general stocks, he was holding that in reserve in
case there were any signs of ill health, but he wasn’t even sure what that would look like. He
had no idea how to provide proper nutrition for a growing firebender.

Who would have thought that would ever have become a concern? His life seemed to have
been stood on its head.

Unfortunately, he was so busy worrying about it, he missed the spark finding its dry kindling.

Their path had led them past one of the areas soldiers were resting. They were an essential
part of the camp, not just for protection, but also to keep things moving, keeping things
orderly. But as the biggest single group of people in the melting pot, they were also the most
vocal with dissent against the other fractions, and the most likely to cause an issue.

“You should watch who you’re spending time with,” One of the soldiers said to Suki as they
passed his group lounging by the fire. “We don’t need any more half-breed bastards. We have
more than enough.”

Shen saw Suki’s face turn from shock to murderous. But Zuli got there faster. “What did you
say?” he snapped, stalking forward, furious.

“Li,” Shen called, increasing his pace to catch the kid before he said something regrettable, or
worse.

The soldier ignored Shen’s presence and didn’t bother to answer Zuli’s demand.

Instead, he spat on him. Right in the face.

There was a fraction of a second where Shen was as shocked as Zuli, and he was a moment
too slow to prevent the explosion, but he did lunge for the boy just before Zuli hurled himself
at the man, catching him around the chest with both arms. He could feel the strength in him
as he twisted in Shen’s grasp. The soldier stepped back, confident that Shen had a good hold
on the squirming ball of rage in his arms, but he had severely underestimated both Zuli’s fury
and his skill. The kid used the grip Shen had around his torso to launch his bottom half into
the air, kicking up his legs and catching the surprised-looking soldier around the throat with
his shins, locking his ankles and squeezing.

The man was choking, scrabbling at Zuli’s pants with desperate fingers, but there was fuck
all he could do. There was nothing Shen could do either, because if he let him go, the weight
of his body would probably break the man’s neck.

“Zuli! Let him go!” Shen yelled, grunting at the weight, as the kid attempted to twist his body
to get a better angle to further crush the man’s windpipe. They all staggered a bit, like they
were taking part in some sort of absurd dance.

“Fuck, Zuli, stop!” he tried again. Apart from the fact a man being murdered by a someone
with Fire Nation blood would be bad for morale and the continued good health of the other
folk with dual heritage in the camp, it was also not great for Shen’s reputation. Zuli was his
kid, his responsibility, and an outburst leading to a murder didn’t say much for Shen’s hold
over his subordinates. It also wasn’t subtle, and a lot of people were watching as Shen held
the snarling boy, unable to stop him as he slowly but surely squeezed the air out of a grown
man while just using his legs.

Shen looked around at the gathering crowd. He could see the man’s friends had come to help,
and Suki was punching one of them in the face, which was... not great either. But he also
spotted his possible salvation. “Sokka!” The other boy was barreling towards them, his face
was a picture as he took in the ridiculous tableau.

“Help!” Shen snarled, but quietly. They had enough of an audience already.

“Li!” Sokka said as he grabbed a leg and started tugging, trying to get his fingers far enough
down that he could prise them apart.

Zuli wasn’t having any of that, and he was still so enraged he didn’t even seem to register
Sokka’s presence, which meant he was very far gone.

“Fuck, Li, stop it!” Sokka gave up trying to work his legs free and instead went for his face,
reaching up to grab both his cheeks and forcing him to look Sokka in the eyes. “Li, buddy.
Stop. Calm down, okay?” he said, then quieter, “Zu, stop.”

That seemed to finally break through Zuli’s rage, and the tension in his body lessened until he
dropped his legs. All his weight fell into Shen’s arms, making him stagger until the kid got
his feet under him.

The soldier had fallen to his knees, gasping. They had collected quite a crowd. It had only
lasted a minute or two, but the ferocity of it had been shocking. Shen’s heart was racing, and
now the adrenaline was receding and reality setting in, he could feel his temper rising too. He
fought it down, acting in anger was without doubt the worst thing he could do.

“You’ll fucking answer for that, you little Fire Nation mongrel,” one of the other men said.
He was talking to Zuli, but his eyes were on Suki, watchful. Her knuckles were red and at
least one man had a broken nose, blood streaming down his face.

“You stand down right now,” Shen said, drawing himself up to his full height and advancing.
Zuli may have reacted poorly, but these were adults, used to discipline. They should know
better. “Have you been captured so long you’ve forgotten how to behave like men?
Threatening kids? Spitting? Starting fights?”

The soldiers seemed to suddenly realise who he was, their faces becoming concerned, except
for the one on the floor, who was still gulping in air. They had been so focused on Zuli and
Suki, they hadn’t even realised he was their commander.
“Captain Shen!” Wei had arrived, moving at a fast trot that didn’t quite look like running, but
was certainly not a casual walk. “What’s happening here?” he asked, his eyes darting
between the subdued combatants and the gathered crowd, who didn’t seem to know whose
side they were supposed to be on. His gaze eventually settled on the slightly strangled soldier.
“Heng, what happened?” he asked.

At least the man’s face had returned to a more normal colour, although he still had somewhat
bulging eyes, that swivelled to look up at Wei with a weird expression that was somewhere
between relief and fear.

Shen gripped one of Zuli’s arms tightly in case flew off the handle again. He was clearly still
wound up and Wei witnessing another outburst would be just adding insult to injury.

“What happened?” Suki snapped, before Shen or Heng could get a word in. “What happened
was these animals,” she gestured at the men, “Insulted me, insinuated things and spat at Li.
He defended us.”

Not that she had needed defending, but she at least seemed to have realised the seriousness of
the situation and was attempting some damage control.

“Don’t say anything,” Shen snarled at Zuli quietly. He was aware he was gripping him far
too tightly and made a conscious effort to loosen his hold, although not so much the kid could
escape or start trying to murder anyone else.

Heng didn’t seem to be able to speak, so one of his friends stepped forward. “The little half-
breed tried to kill him!” he told Wei.

Wei looked at Shen for confirmation. This was going to be tricky and keeping his emotions in
check was proving to be difficult enough. “I saw what happened,” he said, his voice came out
calm, which was a relief. He didn’t feel fucking calm, he felt like his heart was trying to
crawl out of his chest. “This man, Heng, insulted Suki,” he gestured towards her.

Far from the fierce warrior who had just broken a grown man's noise with her little fist, she
looked small and afraid. Her eyes were very big in her face and her shoulders hunched in
slightly. Someone had been taking lessons from Sokka it seemed. It was effective. Even
Shen, who had literally seen her pummel the guy, felt an urge to protect her and make sure
she was safe and didn’t start crying. It was a real talent. Shame Zuli couldn’t do it. It might
solve a lot of his problems.

“When Li challenged him for his language, Heng spat in his face. Li responded violently, and
got him in a choke hold,” Shen concluded, watching Wei carefully.

“Is this true, Heng?” Wei asked.

The man looked at the trampled grass under his knees. “Yes, Commander.”

“You are a soldier, you should know better,” Wei said, his voice very cool.

“Yes, Commander.”
Wei turned to Shen. “Heng is my man, and I would see him punished, but you are the leader
of this camp, and what happens is up to you.”

Wonderful. If Zuli had done the sensible thing and waited three seconds so Shen could take
care of it, then this would be easy. As it was, the violent disorder, however justified, had to be
dealt with, and it had to be done publicly.

“Tomorrow both parties will be punished accordingly,” he said. Hopefully that would give
him enough time to think through what exactly those punishments would need to be. It was
going to be difficult, as the wrong move could be politically disastrous for him. He needed to
maintain control for the continued safety of everyone in the camp. “In the meantime, please
see that Heng is attended to by the healer, he was without air for some time.”

“You’re going to see your half-breed punished too? Or does he get special privileges?” One
of the other men asked, his face pulled into a sneer. There were mutterings from the gathered
crowd. Shen wished they were caused by the man’s rudeness, but he knew they were not.

“I said both parties, I won’t repeat myself again.” Shen stared the man down. “Heng deserves
punishment. Although you may find bullying children acceptable, I don’t. However fighting,
and assault are also forbidden, whatever the provocation. So Li will also be held to account.”
He looked at the gathered soldiers and the crowd. “Any more of that language and you will
join them, understood?” There were a few nods, but most didn’t look like they agreed with
the sentiment. “Heng?”

“Yes, Captain,” Heng rasped, although his eyes were on Wei.

Zuli was a coiled spring of tension and furry, under Shen’s hand, but he said nothing, and
didn’t try to pull away. Shen noticed Sokka had hold of his other arm, just in case.

“Sokka, take him back to the tent. Suki, go with him, please.”

He didn’t turn to watch them go. He kept an eye on the men just in case anyone else felt the
need to start something. But they just helped Heng up and headed for the healer’s tent,
shooting Wei anxious glances.

“That was unfortunate,” Wei said, with a certain level of understatement.

“Little bit, yeah. Not surprising, though. I could feel something building, and I knew where
the flash-point was likely to be.” Shen rubbed at his temple, his head was beginning to ache.
“Li’s been through some stuff, and his temper gets the best of him. My fault.”

Wei shook his head. His short greying hair was disconcerting to see. He wasn’t used to the
men in command having shorn hair, but the Fire Nation had treated everyone the same in
East Lake, and had kept the prisoners’ hair short. Perhaps in an effort to shame them, perhaps
to control the inevitable lice.

“No, not your fault, Captain Shen,” Wei said. “Sometimes these things happen, and we must
make the best of them. This can serve as a warning for others to behave.”
Yes, it could potentially be turned to Shen’s advantage. But he didn’t want to have to make an
example of an abused kid whose natural reaction to threat was to attack first. Even though
there were clearly lessons Zuli could learn from this—like letting Shen deal with these
things, letting his superior officers protect him. “Perhaps,” he said, noncommittally.
“Whichever way it goes, it’s my responsibility to see it done. If you will excuse me,
Commander?” He bowed and barely waited for Wei’s nod before he turned to head back to
the tent.

He only had one foot over the threshold before both Sokka and Suki started yelling, waving
their arms and talking at once. As far as he could make out, it was all a version of ‘it was the
other guy’s fault.’

Zuli had his arms crossed over his chest and was scowling. Shen ignored the other two and
pointed a finger at him. “Do you have any idea of the shit you have just got us in?”

“He deserved it!” Sokka said. Although he hadn’t even been there, he had clearly been filled
in on the details.

“Not the point,” Shen said.

“I think it is the point,” Zuli put in finally, his eyes narrow. There was still a feeling of coiled
menace radiating off him. He was still riled enough Shen was aware the kid might go for him
if he was perceived as being physically threatening.

Unfortunately, Shen’s temper was perhaps not at its best. “It’s not the fucking point! Yes, he
deserved it. But I was right there, Zuli. If you hadn’t reacted, I would have had him pulled up
and punished. Now I have to punish both of you.”

“How is that even fair?” Sokka said. “He has the right to protect himself.” He waved an
angry hand at his friend.

“Oh yeah, sure. And there would be no problem if that’s what he had done, but he was not in
any physical danger, he wasn’t defending himself from harm, he was insulted.” Shen pointed
a finger at him again, as Zuli scowled at him. “That’s not a crime worthy of strangling
someone to death!” Fuck, he had to keep his voice down, they could almost certainly be
heard outside the tent even with his men keeping people from getting to close while he dealt
with this mess.

“He didn’t even die, and I had to defend my honour! Suki’s too!” Zuli snarled.

“That’s not your responsibility, it’s mine. I will defend your honour, as the captain of this
camp.”

“Go on then!”
Shen was actually going to throttle him, he enjoyed his brattiness, but not like this. “Do you
realise that half the camp is expecting me to have you thrashed for that? That perhaps I
should?”

“You won’t!” Sokka growled. He had moved in front of his friend, and Shen wasn’t sure why
this was becoming an argument with Sokka as well as Zuli.

“I might not have a bloody choice!” Shen’s own anger was getting the better of him, this
situation was about far more than this incident, the implications of it were more far-reaching
and potentially far worse that the boys seemed to be grasping.

“You fucking won’t.” Sokka was probably angrier than Shen had ever seen him. He was a
small kid for his age, and relatively new to hand to hand, but the threat coming off him was
enough to make the hair stand up on Shen’s arms. This was about to blow, but not in the way
he had expected. He had Zuli’s measure, Sokka far less so.

He wasn’t the only one concerned, Suki looked like she was going to attempt to put herself
between them, but stopped at Zuli’s raised finger, as he got into Sokka’s space instead.

“Sokka, it’s fine.” Zuli seemed to have calmed himself down, or perhaps his friend’s distress
had shocked the fight out of him. It could have gone either way, and Shen was extremely
lucky that Zuli had not become equally lost in his rage. Only one mindless explosion a day,
apparently.

“Sokka,” Zuli was still trying, his voice firm and calm. “It’s fine.”

It was not, in fact, fine. But Shen was the adult, he had to try to remember to act like it. He
held his hands up, palms out. “Sokka. I don’t want to hurt Zuli, you know that, but we need
to find a way to avoid it. Please, calm down and use that big brain of yours to help me think
of a way out of this.”

“Captain?” Guo said, sticking his head through the tent flap and taking in the scene. The boys
were holding onto each other’s arms like they were about to start a dance. Suki was wide
eyed and stressed and Shen probably looked like he was about to have a meltdown of his
own. He felt like he would quite like to stick his head in a pillow and scream. Maybe down a
whole barrel of spirits. He had never been much of a drinker, but this felt like a great time to
start. “Commander Wei to see you,” Guo finished, his craggy face set in a sympathetic
grimace.

Of course. Marvellous, just what he needed. He couldn’t turn him away, though, especially
not now. Shen nodded. “Behave,” he hissed at the boys, who had their foreheads leaned
together. Perhaps transferring the single brain cell they were apparently using back into its
proper place. They moved apart as Wei entered, all three of the kids sending him cautious
looks.

The older man ignored the obvious tension and bowed politely. “Captain Shen. I came to see
if I could help assist in deciding the best course of action. Sokka, I hear you helped ease the
situation?”
“Er, yeah.” Sokka looked a little dazed, like all the emotions hadn’t finished coming out of
him yet.

“I understand this state of affairs is not ideal, and I am at least partly responsible,” Wei
continued, unruffled and gracious. “The men involved were from my company.” He glanced
at the kids, none of them were currently puffed up or threatening, but one wrong word could
well tip things into chaos again.

“What do you suggest for your man, Commander Wei?” Shen asked. Their options were
limited. In the majority of the units Shen had been a part of, minor infractions were usually
dealt with using punishing exercise, or being given the worst duties in the camp, such as
dealing with the latrines or scrubbing pots. More serious ones, like assault, drunkenness or
theft, would be a flogging. But their current predicament complicated things.

“In normal circumstances, I would give him ten strokes of the cane. But we can’t afford to
disable our men, even the disobedient ones.” He paused to ponder a little. It felt contrived. He
had already made up his mind. “I would give him six, perhaps with a strap rather than a
rattan.”

Sokka shook his head, and Zuli held onto him a little tighter.

Wei raised a calming hand to the boys before there could be any further explosions. “I would
not suggest such for Li,” he said, looking Sokka in the eye, rather than Zuli. Then he turned
to Shen. “He’s what, fifteen, sixteen? And not a soldier, so he would not be expected to take
the same punishment. It would be very unfair.”

The kids looked relieved, but Shen didn’t feel it. Zuli would still need to be disciplined, he
was wounded and couldn’t do the exercise, and Shen was very doubtful he was going to be
able to make him do the work, both because he was a stubborn brat and because he was
certain he would need to be watched. Those men or their friends would not be above taunting
him and it might re-escalate the situation. He just didn’t have the time or the men to keep an
eye on the little arsehole the whole time.

“He might take five raps to the hand?” Wei suggested.

In another situation, that would be a sensible idea. It was showy, painful, but not debilitating
if done correctly. He would still be able to do his work with the other hand.

“No,” Zuli said. His voice was firm. “I would rather take the lash.”

Wei was watching him, and it made something uncomfortable slide up Shen’s spine.

“You will not!” Sokka snapped, scowling at his friend with a complicated, furious expression.

“Not on my hands,” Zuli said, his tone booking no argument.

“No!”

“Sokka, calm down,” Shen instructed, keeping his own voice as even as possible. “You know
I don’t want to hurt him.” It wasn’t enough. Sokka was moments away from hyperventilating,
his eyes a little glassy. Shen thought he was about to slip into another reliving. The person
best suited to getting him out of it was Zuli, and Shen didn’t want Wei to witness it.
“Commander, let’s step out. We can perhaps see how your man is holding up.”

Wei nodded to the boys, his brow a little wrinkled with concern, and bowed to Suki, tiny but
respectful.

The air outside felt fresh and cool, he had barely registered how stifling it had been in the
tent. The familiar noise of the camp was soothing.

Wei glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “Young Sokka seemed distressed. More than
I would have anticipated,” he said as they walked.

“They were tortured,” Shen said, voice grim. “They used a cane on him, I think. Something
else on Li, perhaps a belt or leather flail, the damage isn’t so regular. I don’t really know the
details, but the scars speak for themselves.”

Wei looked upset. The boys weren’t Earth, but they were kids, and it was a relief to see that
compassionate anger. War seemed to sap it out of people, even good, decent ones.

“To insist on a physical punishment like that would be cruel in the extreme,” Shen said
plainly. He didn’t just mean for the boys. The idea was horrifying to him too, but he was out
of options. There had to be another way. “Any suggestions?” he asked.

“As I mentioned earlier, I don’t think it would look bad to give him something lesser—he is a
civilian, Heng is a soldier.”

Shen nodded, but he didn’t think most of the people in the camp would agree. He may be a
kid, but his yellow eyes set him apart and made them view him with suspicion at best. “In the
army, the punishment is clear and accepted by all. This group includes too many non-military
personnel. We are both expecting order, because we are on the same side. And we’re shocked
when we don’t get it. We have to make it clear that antagonising the people with Fire Nation
blood will not be allowed.”

Wei sighed. “Indeed. But folk will have sympathy for Heng, he is a soldier who has lost his
loved ones to the enemy.”

“Haven’t we all? Li had no control over his birth, nor did any of the others. There will be the
same set of rules for all. And I expect better of soldiers. The punishments should be harsher,
we both agree on that, but we have to make people understand why.”

Wei nodded again. His pace was even as they walked, so controlled. Shen was adjusting his
own long stride to match, when it should really be the other way around. He was a man that
just oozed command, and even Shen reacted to it. “The problem is twofold in this instance,”
Wei began carefully. “Despite this regrettable incident, Heng is a good man, well liked, and
not usually in trouble.” He shrugged a shoulder. “And his opinions are just a reflection of
many others in the camp.”

“They don’t like having mixed folk so close.” It was an old, familiar argument.
“We don’t know that all of them are mixed,” Wei said, almost gentle. “There could be Fire
Nation among them.”

“There could be Fire Nation among any of us. How can you tell?” Shen said. He had been
wondering when this was going to come up. “There’s plenty with brown eyes, same as us.
I’ve fought Fire Nation with brown hair, with black hair, some with skin as dark as Sokka,
some as light as Zuli. We can’t tell.” He stopped and looked at Wei right in the face. He was a
little taller, and he used it to his advantage. “We can’t tell, so we protect them all. Either that
or we put them all to the question.”

Wei eyed him for a moment. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking. “You’re right, of
course. A very awkward truth, that.”

Shen began walking again. “We keep an eye on things. Discuss nothing of military plans with
the civilians. People who claim to be soldiers, who no one can vouch for, get the same
treatment as the non-army folk. We protect them, they work, and we tell them nothing.”

“That seems like the most sensible option. You are a very reasonable man, Captain Shen.”

“I try to be, but I also have a different view than some, despite my own losses. I don’t believe
we should hold people responsible for the crimes committed against their mothers.”

Wei looked thoughtful. Which was probably the best Shen could expect.

Qinwen met them at the healer’s tent. She looked annoyed. “Your man will be fine. No
permanent damage. However, it seems like a waste of salve if you’re just going to split his
hide like a grape tomorrow morning.”

Shen winced. “Nothing to be done about it, unless you want more casualties later on.”

Qinwen sniffed robustly, still irritated. “Any injuries to the boy? Or Suki?”

“Suki has tragically bruised her knuckles on a soldier’s face. I think she will recover. Li is
fine. Although I should have checked his stitches, seeing as he was using his legs as a
weapon.”

“It was quite impressive, I hear.”

“Yeah. It would be great if he would hold back all the rage occasionally, though. My heart
can’t take the stress.”

Qinwen shot him an amused and indulgent glance. “Hmm,” she said. “Come, I will take you
to your man.”

Heng looked bruised and a little embarrassed. Whether that was because he had been picking
on a couple of kids or because he had lost a fight with them was unclear.

“I’m sorry, Commander,” Heng said when they got close. “Captain Shen.”
“You understand I must see you are punished, Heng?” Wei looked down at him. A small
frown on his face.

“Yes, Commander. I will accept that. I just...” He breathed out and looked at his skinny
knees. “He was spending too much time with that girl. It.... I...” He shrugged awkwardly.
“I’ve seen what happens when they don’t get what they want the nice way.”

What he meant was clear, and Shen could really feel for him. It was hard to separate those
experiences from more benign ones, and not just see violence where there was none. “So did
his mother, most likely,” Shen said, gently.

Heng looked up at him, surprised by his tone. “It’s not his fault how he was born,” Shen told
him. “And as long as it’s consensual, it’s none of your business who either of them is
spending time with.” He let his lip curve into a small smile. “Although, to put your mind at
ease, I’m pretty sure Li will not be fathering any bastards. His affections lie elsewhere, if you
catch my drift.”

Heng made a face of understanding, drawn in by Shen’s good humour. Shen knelt so he could
look him in the eye. The man looked shocked, confused. “Heng, don’t rile people up about
this, you understand? I know what happened may have been humiliating for you. Being
beaten by a half grown brat with all the manners of a spine fish on a hook. But keeping these
people safe is more important than any vendetta you may hold. I need you to help me.
Despite what just happened, can you do that?”

Was it manipulative? Yeah. Would it get him what he wanted? Hopefully.

Heng was looking at him with a complicated expression, but Shen thought he had him.
Sometimes punishment wasn’t what was warranted. He was a hurt man reacting to his pain,
he needed it acknowledged and he needed to be listened to, offered an alternative path.

Unfortunately, the situation also demanded that he was reprimanded, but hopefully he would
take something more than bitterness away with him, despite that.

Heng looked at Wei, a fleeting little glance, like he was uncertain, emotional. There was
something a little off in the man’s behaviour. Shen couldn’t quite put his finger on it yet. Or
perhaps he was paranoid, jumping at shadows. It put him on edge, though.

Of course, dealing with Heng had been the easy part.

“You have to apologise.”

“No!”

Negotiations with Zuli were going great.

“And you will have to do extra chores.” Fuck, but Shen felt like he was just so damn tired, a
bone deep exhaustion. Partly it was the constant edge of hunger, and partly he felt
emotionally stretched and wrung out.

“No!” The kid was blazing and Shen was worried he might set the tent on fire. He was
concerned he might set Shen on fire. It was very hard to keep a clear head when every instinct
he had was telling him to fight, to run.

“I can avoid corporal punishment, but I can’t avoid some sort of penalty. You have to work
with me here.”

“I would prefer the lash!”

Shen stepped up to him, probably risking life and limb, and stared him down. “And how do
you think I would feel having to give it to you? How would Sokka feel having to watch?”

Zuli full body flinched at that, his shoulders hunching. Shen could almost see the anger
sliding off him and reforming into distress. “So what then? I’m not sorry.” He held himself
tightly around the chest, glaring up at Shen. “I can’t apologise for defending myself. I won’t.”

He looked so miserable, some of Shen’s anger deflated. He reached a hand out to him, but the
kid leaned away, so he let it drop. “You should have let me deal with it. You have to
understand this isn’t about right and wrong. Of course you have the right to defend yourself.
And people shouldn’t be treating you like that.” He sighed. He could see the hurt under the
anger as the kid continued to glower at him. “In other circumstances I would have been right
behind you. But this is a delicate situation. I have to be seen to be fair and equal. I can’t have
one set of rules for the people I care about and another set for the rest of them. If I do that,
then I could lose my grip, lose my command of these people and then the other mixed folks
here, the ones that can’t defend themselves, then they are going to suffer for it.” He sighed
deeply. “I can only protect them while I’m in a position of power. I lose it, and they all lose.
Do you understand that?”

“Yes.” Zuli averted his eyes, staring unhappily at the floor. “Yeah. I get it.”

Shen could see that he did, but he was concerned it wasn’t going to make much of a
difference. It didn’t feel like this argument had actually achieved anything, because the boy
still had not accepted the easy way out Shen had offered him.

“I’ll work it out, Zuli, I will. I won’t let you get hurt, but you will have to accept some
responsibility for what happened.”

Zuli just looked at him, miserable and angry. Then he turned on his heel and stalked out of
the tent.

Shen watched him go. He had a very bad feeling about how things were going to pan out.

Sokka returned to the tent in the evening. He looked pale and shaky, but was able to pass on
the day’s inventory information. Then he sat on his bedroll, pulling his knees up and staring
at them.

“No Zuli?”

“Nope.”

“Know where he is?”

Sokka shrugged and glanced up. “Said he was going to keep an eye on Suki.”

Well, that was an excuse if ever there was one. Suki was more than capable of keeping an eye
on herself. Shen dithered for a moment over whether he should make him come back to the
tent or give him the space he needed. Staying in the women’s camp might not be the best
move, given the flash point for the earlier violence. But pushing him might result in an even
worse outburst. Hopefully it would be okay.

“You not joining him?” he asked.

“Nope.”

Probably because he was avoiding Suki. Which was clearly something Shen needed to get to
the bottom of before whatever that was blew up in their faces too. He just wanted to sleep,
but he suspected anxiety about what would happen in the morning was going to make it hard.

He got himself ready for bed, keeping half an eye on Sokka. He looked worried. Shen sat on
his own blankets and waited for him to speak.

It took a few quiet minutes until Sokka glanced at him. “He won’t do it, Shen. He can’t.”

Shen stared at his hands, rough and scared from a childhood of farm work and a lifetime of
fighting. “If he pushes me, I may have to...” He took some deep breaths. Tomorrow was
going to suck. “Look, Sokka, you know I would rather cut off my own arm rather than hurt
that kid. But when it comes to protecting these people, who are all my responsibility, their
wellbeing has to come before my own, and before one stubborn boy.”

Sokka flinched and just stared at him, pale, drawn and haunted.

Shen signed again and leaned back a bit. “I wish we could avoid punishments at all.
Everyone here has been through so much. But if people see they can get away with it, they
will carry on, it will get worse, believe me. And next time, it won’t just be spitting and it
might not be someone who can defend themselves.”

“I know. I can’t watch, though.”

“No, no, I think it’s best you don’t. But if you can maybe speak to him? Persuade him? He
can just do minimal work, do washing, clean the cook pots.”

“And apologise? He won’t do it. Maybe he would to you, but not to them. It’s shaming, and
he doesn’t feel he deserves that, because he thinks he’s in the right.”
Sokka seemed so tired too, lacking his usual enthusiastic spark. He had clearly been
grappling with something since the escape, and Shen just hadn’t had the time to deal with it.
But the near explosion earlier was an indication he couldn’t just let it lie. “This is bringing up
bad memories. Are you okay? What can I do?”

Sokka chewed his lip. “Nothing. Nothing can be done, really.”

“You’ve been out of sorts recently. Perhaps talking about it would help? You may have
spoken to Zuli, but an outside perspective might be useful?”

Sokka was quiet while he thought about the offer, looking at his booted feet. “When we were
loading the carts with the injured, some guards caught up. We had to fight them off.”

Shen pulled off his own boots and crossed his legs comfortably on his bedding. “Did you
fight?”

“Yeah. There were a lot of people, it was hard to tell what was happening. I don’t even know
if I killed anyone. But people died. The guards burnt them.” He shuddered with his whole
body. “And we were still trying to get people on the carts, some of them were being hurt right
there, not even in the camp. They were desperate to get on, even though they were barely
alive. They kept trying, and we had...” he stopped and rubbed at his mouth a little, before
continuing. “We had to leave them, take only those that looked like they would live.”

“That must have been hard.”

“Wei arrived, and he saved many people. He was organised. His men were armed and fought
them off. Some came with us, and Wei and some of the others went back to the camp, trying
to rescue more.”

“It sounds upsetting.” It had in fact gone better than Shen had thought it would. They had
saved a greater amount that he had been anticipating, and a lot of others had escaped and
headed their own way. But for Sokka, who had not until recently had any part in warfare,
other than as a child witnessing his own people being attacked, it must have been truly
shocking. Your first real, full battle always was.

Sokka looked up at him, mouth turned down and eyes heavy with memory. “Suki’s friend,
Jing, she’s in a bad way.”

Shen nodded. “I saw. It’s unlikely she will pull through, I’m afraid. Suki is staying positive,
though.”

Sokka shook his head and twisted at his own fingers, rubbing at them like he was trying to
get them clean. “She’s like those men trying to get on the cart.”

Shen exhaled. The torchlight was low, and the shadows were wide and long. “What happened
to those men is not your fault.”

“It is. I can’t bear to look at Suki, because what happened to Jing was because of me.”
Now they were getting to it, although whatever was going on between him and Suki seemed
to be completely one sided. “How so?”

“All of it is my fault. It was my plan, wasn’t it? My plan, my body count. Jing wasn’t hurt in
the camp, she was hurt escaping from it.”

“Welcome to command,” Shen said. It was blunt and horrible, but no less true. “Suki doesn’t
blame you, she’s almost certainly blaming herself, if anyone. If you want to lay guilt on one
of us for the plan, it should be me. I understood the cost, and what was likely to happen. And
given the choice, knowing how it turned out? I would do it again in a heartbeat.”

He reached out and took the kid’s hand. It felt small, but there were rough calluses on his
palm and fingers from his sword work and his boomerang. “Take what you need from this
experience, the horror of it. It’s hard, but when you make decisions in the army, or even just
with a few men, people will die because of your choices.” He squeezed Sokka’s fingers. The
kid was looking at him with his big eyes, still so full of pain and guilt. “But people will live
too. These people, they’re alive and free. My men are, I am, because of you and Zuli and
your plans and choices.”

“But so many died, Shen.”

“Acknowledge your part in that, but put the blame where it belongs. Put it at the feet of the
people that locked them up in the first place, the people who were wielding the fire and
blades that killed them.”

“It was…” He took his hand back and shuddered again. “When we were on the boat, they
strapped me to a chair. Put something over my face and poured water on it, so I felt like I was
drowning,” he said.

Shen was silent, horrified. It wasn’t just a technique used by the Fire Nation, and he had seen
it done. Soldiers terrified and traumatised into confessing, giving up plans, half of which
were made up in an effort to make it stop. But the idea of doing that to a kid? Appalling.

“I feel like that every day,” Sokka continued quietly.

“I’m so sorry that happened to you, Sokka. I am. And I’m sorry that this recent situation has
made you struggle with those feelings again.” Helplessness and bone deep terror by the
sound of it. Maybe shame, too. “It was a bad situation at East Lake, but we made the best of
it, even if it doesn’t seem like it now. We gave folk a chance, and we saved some of them.”

“But not all. If Wei hadn’t arrived, even more may have died.”

“But he did arrive.” Shen leant back on his hands, stretching his legs out. “He thinks highly
of you. You made a good impression on him during that first meeting.”

“I don’t see why,” Sokka shrugged one shoulder. “He seems alright, I guess.”

Shen nodded. “He seems like a good man, certainly a good soldier.” He paused and pursed
his lips. “Be cautious around him though, Sokka.”
“What do you mean? Because of Li? You don’t have to worry. I don’t trust anyone with his
well-being, including Li himself, because he’s a moron.” He grimaced. “Which I am sure he
is going to prove tomorrow.”

Shen winced at the reminder. “Yeah, he’s a stubborn brat, and can’t be trusted not to put
himself at risk. I’m not saying Wei’s intentions are bad, necessarily, but I get a feeling from
him. He’s too interested in Zuli and I don’t know why exactly. He’s drawn attention to his
mixed heritage a number of times.”

“There are other mixed people here, so what’s his interest specifically?”

Shen chewed his lip. “I don’t know, to be honest, I… I can’t prove anything, but I feel like he
set this up. Not how things actually went down, I don’t think he asked Heng to do what he
did. But maybe to challenge Zuli a bit, get a reaction. I just don’t think they expected the one
they got,” he said wryly, his lip quirking up. “At first I thought it was me he was testing, but I
think it’s both of us to some extent.”

Sokka was looking more alert now, more switched on than he had been for days. Clearly a
possible threat was what it took to get him out of his funk. “What could he be testing him
for? What does he think he’s going to gain?”

Shen drew his knee up and rested his chin on it. He felt restless, fidgety. He could feel the
pull to go check on Zuli, but he was determined to resist it. “Wei suggested he take the lashes
to his hands. It makes some sense, it’s a punishment often used for children when they are
cadets, on the non-dominant hand. The idea is for shock and pain, but not to cripple or cause
permanent harm.”

“Zhao did that to him. On the boat,” Sokka said. “You think it was a way to belittle him? If
it’s often given to children?”

“For Zhao, maybe. I don’t think so for Wei. Zuli is a swordsman who uses dual blades, there
is no way he would allow himself to suffer injury like that to his hands when we may need to
fight.”

Sokka’s eyes widened, clearly understanding “He was masked the whole time. How could
Wei suspect?”

Shen shrugged. “This raid differed from all the others. Firstly, he is having to spend time with
people who saw him in combat. If he fights unmasked, it is possible that someone could
recognise him from the way he moves. If that person is observant, and knows what they are
looking at.”

“And secondly?”

“He got hurt. If Wei saw that happen, or even if he saw the Blue Spirit limping, put that
together with the similarity in their builds?” He shook his head. “It’s possible. Very possible,
he might suspect.”

“What does that mean for us? For Li?”

 “I have no idea. We’re all on the same side. The Blue Spirit is a folk hero, so he shouldn’t be
a threat.” But the Earth Kingdom folk hero having Fire Nation blood? That was a bit
awkward. “Maybe it will mean nothing. Perhaps he’s just curious, but I don’t know for
certain. So just be aware.”

“I will. Thanks. And thank you for the talk, too.” He smiled, small and a little bleak, but
genuine.

“Any time, Sokka. When you feel like that, don’t let it fester. And stop avoiding Suki. Not
only are you upsetting her, you’re encouraging her and Zuli to spend time together, and if
they start plotting something, anything, I’m concerned the camp may end up as ashes.” Shen
grinned.

Sokka smiled back, not as wan as before. “I feel like a dick for avoiding her.”

“Tell her that, then. She’ll smack you upside the head, but she’ll appreciate the honesty. And
I’m telling you, those feelings of guilt you are having? She’s having them too, and she could
probably use the support.”

“I’ll speak to her.”

“Good. Try to get some sleep. I suspect tomorrow is not going to be easy or pleasant.”

Sokka groaned and wrapped himself in his blankets. Shen listened to him toss and turn and
mutter to himself. “You all right?”

“Cold. I’ve become soft, sleeping with Li. He’s so warm.”

Shen didn’t think it was actually the lack of heat that was the problem. He just wasn’t used to
sleeping by himself anymore, and the current situation was probably exacerbating his anxiety.
“Pull your blankets up here. I’m pretty cold too.” he said. He wasn’t sure if Sokka believed
that was the reason, but he didn’t question it. Just dragged his stuff close to Shen’s and settled
back down. This time he drifted off fast, his breath becoming heavy and loud, and Shen was
man enough to admit he found his warm and slightly noisy presence comforting, too.

Chapter End Notes

I’m constantly amazed at people drawing the OC’s it just blows my mind! The Awesome
bestkage drew some art of Shen Here! Please go give them some love!

Next Chapter: A continuation of this one… Shen’s bad day gets worse, Zuko indulges in
some drama, Sokka is mad about it, and Dumpling wakes up and chooses violence.
 Chapter 24
Chapter Summary

“I can list your less pleasant qualities too, if you like.”

Chapter Notes

Warnings: Oh boy... violence, flogging, assault, homophobia and associated language,

racism, racist language towards people of mixed heritage, thoughts about non-con,
sexual speculation about a minor (by an adult), speculation about a sexual relationship
between an adult and a minor. Some pretty messed up views on basically everything.

Many thanks to my beta burkesl17, who has managed to wrangle my dyslexic nonsense.
All mistakes are my own.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Shen was up before dawn, making preparations, speaking to Wei and trying to plan for the
upcoming disaster. Because he was certain that was what it was going to be.

The sun had risen bright and the air was fresh. The camp was buzzing with anticipation.
People seemed to love a punishment. And Shen suspected they were curious about how he
was going to react to Zuli’s infraction. How Wei was going to react to Shen’s reaction.

Although Shen was officially in charge, people still looked to the other man for guidance, a
combination of his rank and the fact the majority of soldiers were his. Thankfully Wei was in
Shen’s corner, and they had spoken about the various ways this might go.

It was a long morning, with anticipation and anxiety churning in Shen’s gut. He would have
rather get it over with early, but there were just too many practical things to oversee before
they could around to dealing with it, and the inevitable fallout.
When the time finally came, both Heng and Zuli presented themselves promptly and without
fuss.

“Do you accept the charges and the punishment, Heng?” Shen asked.

“I do, Captain. I also apologise for breaking the camp rules.” He removed his worn shirt and
knelt on the grass, his face composed. He avoided looking at Zuli standing beside him.

Shen could feel the anxiety in his chest. Zuli’s face was also calm. Perhaps a little too calm
for a kid with such a tenancy towards expressive anger. Please, please just take the easy way
out. Shen knew he wouldn’t though, he just knew.

“Li, you will apologise and agree to twenty hours’ extra work. Heng, do you accept this as
appropriate, given the circumstances?”

“I do, Captain.” He didn’t even seem that bitter about it. Perhaps Shen speaking to him
yesterday really had made a difference and there would be no further retribution.

Zuli was somehow looking very Fire Nation despite the green and brown he was wearing.
Perhaps it was the way he was holding himself, aggressive and proud. But surprisingly, he
bowed to Shen respectfully. “I won’t apologise for defending myself,” he said, and Shen’s
heart sank, although he was not in the least bit surprised. “That man attacked me because he
didn’t like my face.” He clearly meant his eyes, but the wording was interesting. “Which is
not something I can control,” Zuli continued, in the same strong voice. “I know I did wrong
in the eyes of the law of this camp, but I won’t apologise for this. Not to him. Although I will
to you.” He bowed deeper. “I am sorry for breaking camp rules and placing you in a bad
position. And I accept my punishment for this. I will take the lash, the same as Heng.”

This was fully expected, and Shen had planned what he could to mitigate the impact. But he
still hated it. And he could feel helpless, impotent rage stirring in his gut.

Zuli stripped off his shirt and knelt in seiza beside Heng, his posture soldier perfect. He
looked defiant and very small next to the other man. The scars on his back and hips stood out
red and angry. While the whip marks could have come from anyone at any time, it was clear
that the burns were from a firebender. His skin told a story of rebellion and hardship and his
behaviour toward Shen and the situation was both proud and gracious in equal measure.

Zuli was a kid who came across as completely socially incompetent, but Shen was beginning
to realise that wasn’t totally true. Or at least, in some situations, perhaps when he gave
himself time to think before reacting, he had more understanding than he was given credit
for. He certainly had a sense of theatre, and of how to emotionally manipulate his audience.
Whether it was carefully planned or if he had just somehow intuited what was needed was
unclear. His smarts were different from Sokka’s and he was as dense as a pile of bricks
sometimes, but he was far from stupid.

Whatever his thought process had been, it was working. People were looking at him
differently, as he knelt passively with his head held high and his scars stark in the morning
light. He looked like a man who had been wronged, choosing to take a punishment to prove a
point at the expense of his already battered skin.
In Shen’s experience, people loved that. They loved a story, an underdog, someone who stuck
by their own convictions no matter the consequences.

This way, Zuli won over the people watching. His quiet defiance and willingness to be
disciplined, along with the respect he was displaying towards Shen were appealing, showed
honour. And Shen still got to save face by ordering and having the punishment carried out.

Well, hopefully he had worked things out with Wei to save some of the brats already scarred
hide. He didn’t need any more damage. Although Shen wasn’t above having a few murderous
thoughts. Just because he was impressed, did not mean he wasn’t still spitting mad about this
whole situation.

“Very well,” he said, keeping his voice cool. Zuli wasn’t meeting his eyes, the stubborn little
bastard. “Commander Wei will carry out the punishment himself.” Wei’s offer to do so was
probably also a calculated move on his part, like with Zuli. It made the crowd engage with
him the way he wanted. Showed he had care as well as control over his men, that he wouldn’t
just hand over the distasteful task to others. Shen probably should have been the one to do it,
but even the possibility of Zuli doing what he had just done was enough to stop him. There
was nothing he could do to protect the kid from himself, but no fucking way he was going to
be the one swinging the strap, politics be damned.

Unlike the Fire Nation, who seemed happy to use your whole body as a target, in the Earth
Kingdom, disciplinary floggings were usually across the thighs and buttocks. But in this
situation, that wouldn’t work, as it would mean it would make it hard for them to travel, to
walk. A serious beating could take weeks for normal mobility to return, and the carts were
already full. Shen had had more than one thrashing in his youth, for fighting, mostly, and he
still had the scars from a particularly nasty punishment. It had been very much deserved, but
the man who had swung the cane had not gone easy on him.

Generally though, the army didn’t like to disable its men, and it made even less sense to do so
now. With that in mind, it had been decided to whip across the back and shoulders, with a
guard made of leather and cloth to protect the kidneys in case of a misplaced blow.

Heng stayed kneeling quietly while the guard was fitted, his unbound hands in his lap. He
had accepted his punishment, and would not be held down.

It seemed particularly unpleasant that he would go first, and that Zuli would have to watch
and anticipate. But the boy was stoic and quiet, staring straight ahead, his face calm. Heng
was equally composed, although he let out a strangled yelp at the first blow. However
determined you were not to make noise, the shock of impact often elicited some sort of
involuntary reaction.

Shen kept his eyes on them, but tried not to pay too much attention. He was already anxious
and struggling with his emotions. Instead, he began running through the supplies they had
left, thinking about how soon they could get more. They needed rice at least, or something
similar to bulk out the watery soup. They had a few sheep-pigs left. Although every part of
them that was edible went in the pot, it wasn’t enough to last a day.

The sound of the lash falling made his skin crawl as he tried to avoid looking at Zuli.
“Six,” Wei said, his voice startling Shen slightly. He had been so zoned out he had barely
noticed that Wei was done with Heng.

The soldier got to his feet. Shen couldn’t see the damage from where he was standing, but he
could see the discomfort in his face as the guard was unstrapped from his back. Heng bowed,
first to Wei and then to Shen, a little stiff.

“Go and find the healer,” Shen instructed him. “Your punishment is done.”

“Captain Shen,” Wei said.

The watching crowd was hushed. People who had arrived to see the half-breed flogged, no
longer seemed to want that, or at least, not for the same reasons. They still seemed to be
enjoying the spectacle and the drama, and like Zuli, Wei seemed to be skilled in directing
their interest, drawing them in to see what he wanted them to.

“Yes, Commander?” Shen asked.

“For Li, I propose that we waive two lashes for his age, and a further two for his status as a
civilian. Do you agree?”

“I think that seems reasonable,” Shen said, coolly, as though they had not pre-arranged this.

Zuli looked incensed, like it was insulting to his pride not to be beaten bloody. Well tough, as
far as Shen was concerned, let him rage. “Proceed, Commander Wei.”

Despite the low sentence, and the knowledge it would be over fast, the sound of the leather
flail hitting flesh was still upsetting. The impact on the skin, and the harsh exhalation the boy
made as the blow fell. Shen kept his eyes on him anyway. His lack of reaction to the shock
and the pain, aside from that first small noise, was as impressive as it was concerning. His
first time, Shen had howled, the second time too actually. And he had been two years older
than Zuli.

Blessedly, it was over fast and Zuli rose to his feet without faltering, unstrapping the guard
himself and dropping it to the floor like it stank of something unpleasant. He bowed, fluid
and graceful, despite the pain he must be feeling, first to Wei, and then again to Shen. He
didn’t go too low, but he held the bow longer for Shen, showing respect, but still without
apology.

He didn’t look at them before he stalked off. With his back turned, Shen could see the
damage. The red lines were awful and they would swell and bruise, but they hadn’t broken
skin. Wei had been careful, as promised.

Shen still felt a bit sick and a lot angry. He was very glad Sokka had stuck to his plan of not
watching, even though it had been mild in comparison with Heng, and that had been light
compared to what you would normally receive. Shen wasn’t sure where Sokka had gone, but
he thought perhaps with Haoyu. Somewhere Shen himself would probably head after he was
done here.
He breathed out and in again, centring himself. He had to keep his shit together and do what
Wei had suggested—make this whole disaster work for him.

“I don’t want to have to oversee this again,” he said, addressing the gathered people. He was
grateful that his voice came out strong. “You could make the argument we were not clear
enough on the rules in the camp. So, let me lay them out for you. The punishment for rape or
murder is death. Assault, theft, drunkenness or fighting, the lash. And let it be known that this
was your only warning. Next time, there will be no leniency.”

He looked at the surrounding crowd, making sure to stand tall and straight. People were
staring back. They were listening, and most didn’t look angry, or like he was suggesting
something untoward. “If you have a grievance, come to the wardens we will set up. If your
problem is with a warden, come to me or Commander Wei directly.” They seemed happy
with that, but it wasn’t enough. “Keep your inflammatory comments to yourselves. You may
not like having people of mixed heritage in the camp, you may suspect them of being fully
Fire, and you are welcome to share those concerns with us, not your neighbour or camp
buddy. And if you have proof, something will be done about it. But in the meantime, you
don’t like them? Stay away. You don’t like women in the camp? Stay away. Don’t like what
the women are doing? Tough. You have had your warning. Break the rules from here on out
and the punishment will be a lot worse.”

People muttered, and some nodded. They seemed less troubled than they had when they had
first gathered. The air felt a little easier, less tense.

Shen stepped away. That felt almost too simple. Now he had to sort out all the hurt feelings
with the kids, including his own.

Zuli was with Qinwen. She was scowling at him, her hard face pinched with annoyance,
while he snarled back at her. Touchy and irritated, and probably in pain.

“Fine, if you want to be stubborn about it, I will give you some salve and you can ask your
friend to put it on. Or perhaps you can bend your arms all the way around your back to put it
on yourself? Can you do that?”

“Obviously I can’t!”

“I hope it stings, you ungrateful little brat,” Qinwen said as she handed him a small bowl of
goo with a gentleness that didn’t match her words.

He pouted, apparently offended. “I’m not ungrateful. I just don’t want you touching me. I
don’t know you.”

“I’m a healer.”

“I don’t give a shit!”

Shen sighed, a horrible feeling of affection welling in his chest. “I see your brush with
corporal punishment hasn’t gentled your tongue any.”

Zuli scowled at him, full force and furious, but then his eyes moved across to Qinwen.
“Thank you, healer Qinwen. I appreciate the medicine. I will still put it on myself, though.”

“Okay, okay, if that’s what you want. Go take it to your friends. They were looking sad
together in Haoyu’s cart.”

“Will he live?” Zuli asked. His gaze sliding towards Shen again briefly.

“Unless infection sets in, then yes, I think he will,” Qinwen said. “He is young and strong. He
needs things to lift his spirits, though. It’s very hard to come to terms with this sort of
dramatic change. Especially for a soldier who doesn’t feel there is any other road in life for
them.”

“Hmm.” Zuli looked distant, like he was thinking hard about things.

“Why don’t you go ahead?” Shen said. “Sokka’s there, I think. I’ll follow you.”

“Don’t feel you have to,” the kid grumped at him. It didn’t have the affectionate lilt his
grumbling often had, so he was clearly still upset. Shen could relate to that. If he thought
about the past day too hard, his own anger started filling his chest. The feeling was mixed
with shame and pity. If Zuli was upset with him for following through with the unfair
punishment, he could understand that—but he suspected it was the leniency he was furious
with. Or perhaps, that was what he was allowing himself to be angry about.

“Off you go, Li,” Qinwen said, making a shooing motion. “Get your friend to slather your
back in that stuff. Get a sneaky massage.” She winked at him.

Zuli went a little pink, and the urge to make fun of him was so, so strong. But it really wasn’t
the time and might cause another physical fight. Instead, Shen and Qinwen watched the boy
stomp off towards the carts.

“You dealt with that well, Captain Shen.”

Shen snorted. “No I didn’t. Kid still got thrashed.”

“It could have been a lot worse. Two lashes, not even breaking skin? That’s not as bad as it
could have been. Not as bad as it has been for him before.”

“Yeah, and that’s the problem. He doesn’t need any more hurt or any more scars, and I’m
worried he’s headed for both. Not just the physical ones. Sokka too, he’s worrying me.
Everything that’s happened to them has fucked them up good.”

“They do seem to have been through a lot.”

“They haven’t had a chance to sit down and…deal with it. Grieve it. The mess is starting to
come out. Anxiety, anger. It’s going to get worse.”
“You think Li’s outburst was distress from past experiences?”

“Well, yes and no, it’s kind of just his personality.” Shen shrugged. “Although, I suspect that
is built from trauma, from his younger years. So perhaps it’s not unreasonable to say that.”

“Is there a question in here somewhere, Captain? Or are you just venting? Which you are
very welcome to do, of course.”

“How do I help them?”

Qinwen regarded him steadily. “You do what you have been doing. Support, listen, protect,
and stop them doing stupid things where you can. Help avoid more serious consequences
when your efforts fail.”

“Easier said than done.”

“No one said it would be easy, Captain. You’re a parent. Congratulations.” She slapped him
on the back hard enough to rock him forward a bit.

Shen groaned and resisted the urge to bury his head in his hands.

All the kids were in the cart with Haoyu. Shen hoped that meant Sokka had made things up
with Suki. But naturally, he now seemed to be mad at Zuli, and it was Suki, not him, who was
applying salve to their friend’s bare back.

“I can’t believe you got flogged,” Haoyu sounded groggy. The painkilling flower he was
being carefully dosed with made one sleepy and probably only dulled the pain of healing a
little. “How long have we been here?” he slurred.

“About four days,” Zuli said tartly.

“Must be something of a record,” Sokka’s voice was a little snide, and his eyes were
narrowed.

“I could do quicker.”

“That’s not a challenge, Li!”

Haoyu wheezed. “Don’t make me laugh, it hurts.”

“How are you feeling?” Shen asked, parking himself on the edge of the cart next to Zuli, just
to annoy him.

“Fuzzy,” Haoyu admitted. “Hurts. But mostly fuzzy. Like a blanket.”

Shen smiled and reached out to ruffle his short hair. “You didn’t have to go to such extreme
lengths to copy my look, you know.” He pointed to his own hair, when the kid looked
bemused.

“You are such an embarrassing person,” Zuli told him. He sounded a little less furious.

Haoyu was grinning, but it was unclear if he really knew what about, being more than a little
out of it. “Captain, Sokka told me that one of them-” He waved a hand towards Suki and
Zuli. “Is the Blue Spirit. Is that true? You’re not all messing with me?”

Zuli had gone pink again. It was amusing he seemed so bashful about it, embarrassed even.

“Oh, I’m not owning that,” Suki said. “I hear the Fire Nation is looking to hang him.” She
poked Zuli in the middle of the back, making him squeak.

“Fine. It’s the Blue Spirit,” Zuli said sourly, then flushed a deep red. “I mean, it’s me. I’m the
Blue Spirit.”

Even Sokka, who was clearly still mad at him, couldn’t quite hold back his grin.

Haoyu blinked and then slid his gaze over to Shen, who made a wry face and nodded. “He is.
It was a nasty shock to my system, but I’m in no doubt at all.”

“I can’t tell if you’re making fun of me. My head’s dizzy.”

Shen chuckled. “I know, kiddo, and right now, there’s no way to prove it. Although I think
you will find your stash of masks was raided when we get back to Huang.”

“You fought using my mask? That’s so great!”

Zuli’s face had gone the same colour as his scar. His embarrassment was ridiculously
endearing and made Shen’s chest feel all tight. It didn’t help with the anger though, it kind of
made it worse. Sokka also seemed to be struggling in the face of such ridiculousness, and
reached across to squish his friend’s hot cheeks, until Zuli smacked him, going so red Shen
was concerned he might combust.

“Captain?” Haoyu’s face had fallen again. His green eyes looking glassy and a little
confused. “Why are you taking me back to Huang?”

“What do you mean? Did you have somewhere else to be?” He didn’t have anywhere to
safely return to, even if his family were still living.

“I can’t fight anymore, can I? Just a burden on the company.”

Shen had known that this was going to be a conversation they had to have. But it was going
to be a fraught and complicated one and he had been hoping to avoid it for a while yet.

“Not for a while,” Zuli said, surprisingly.

Shen wasn’t against someone else leading this discussion, but he did have some reservations
about it being Zuli. He wasn’t the most gentle with his words.
Zuli snarled a little as Suki rubbed slave onto his back, clearly getting her revenge for his
rough ministrations with her own injuries. “You will need to relearn things before you do, so
you’re not a liability,” he said.

Shen winced. He wasn’t wrong, but it wasn’t the most subtle approach.

Zuli pondered further for a moment. “But you can relearn. I lost half my sight. It… It
changes everything. How you perceive the world, where you are in it, physically, I mean. It
doesn’t seem like much, but in a fight it’s huge.”

Shen wondered if he was talking about his swords or his bending.

“I’ve only been relearning three years, but I’m back to where I was. I had to work hard,
though. It didn’t come easy. I had to dedicate myself to it.” He nodded absently as he spoke,
almost like he was reassuring himself that he had achieved what he had set out to achieve.
And he had, as far as Shen could see. He was incredibly impressive considering the time
frame they were talking about.

“But...”

“No reason earthbenders can’t bend with one leg,” Zuli interrupted him. He wasn’t great
about the listening part of helping his friend and sounded like he might attempt to beat
acceptance of his new situation into Haoyu rather than use his words. But his heart seemed to
be in the right place.

“I can hardly go into battle like this,” Haoyu said, quiet and miserable.

“Use a bird. Train it,” Zuli said. “Find a way.”

It really wasn’t that easy, although Zuli seemed to not care about that part. He was
remarkably determined and idealistic in an aggressive sort of way.

Haoyu was looking at him with something like hope, so perhaps his brusque, almost harsh
optimism had worked. For now, at least.

“You should rest, Haoyu,” Shen said. “Recover your strength.”

“Are you really the Blue Spirit, Li?” Haoyu asked. His words sliding into one another. “The
real one?”

“Yeah.”

“Tomorrow, will you tell me about the raid on Lao Fort?”

“Which? I’ve raided it multiple times.”

“The one where you left the money. Helped the people.”

“Yeah, Li,” Sokka said dryly. “Why don’t you tell that story? It’s a good one.”
“Fuck off, Sokka,” Zuli grumbled.

“I think I will, actually.” Sokka pushed himself off the cart, shoving Zuli out of the way to do
so. “Keep resting, Haoyu. You’ll recover in no time. Li, you and I need to talk.” He pointed a
finger back towards the tent.

Zuli looked like he was contemplating if he would perhaps rather throw himself off a cliff,
but eventually he sighed, and slid down.

Suki handed him the remaining salve. “Go put a shirt on and stop showing off your muscles.”

“I am not!”

“Li, tent, now.” Sokka grabbed him by the arm and pulled him away before he could get into
it with Suki.

She grinned at Shen. “Will you hang out with us for a bit? While the boys get their lover’s tiff
out of the way?”

Shen snorted. “Sure.” To be honest, he was more than happy to put off being alone with
either of them, feeling the way he did.

Shen made his way back to his tent. He hadn’t stayed long, despite his intentions. He
couldn’t, he was just too emotionally exhausted and wrung out. Seeing Haoyu had been more
draining than he had expected. It was hard to keep his mind away from remembering what
they had done to him. The way that had looked, the feel of holding him down. The smell, the
sounds. When they got back to Huang, and he got to hand over command, he was going to
find somewhere quiet and have a complete screaming meltdown. Just a small one. He thought
he probably deserved it.

Of course, at that point, things might have become substantially worse for him, depending on
how strict Huang was feeling about protocol. Considering he had sent Shen and his whole
company into a trap because he had been the voice of dissent in the unit, his outlook wasn’t
great. But, that was a problem for another day.

Dark had sunk over the camp like a creeping shroud, its tendrils seeping into the spaces
between the tents. They had needed the long day of rest, but they would have to move again
tomorrow. Heading again for the river, which seemed to be all Shen ever did. Hopefully, they
would eventually rendezvous with Huang and Long. Before they started on that final stretch
to the city and the inevitable battle.

There was candlelight in the tent, faint and flickering. That meant it was almost certain the
boys were still awake. And probably still arguing. He didn’t want to get in the middle of that,
if it could be avoided, so he stepped up close to the tent flap and sank to the floor. The cool
grass was strangely soothing under his palms as he leant back on his hands and shut his eyes
for a moment.
“Look, I know you’re upset,” Zuli was saying. So they had clearly been going at it for a
while, and Shen suspected Zuli had probably shared the sentiment multiple times already.
“But I can’t… I won’t give up who I am.”

“Who you are is a moron, Zu.”

There was a long, aggravated exhalation. “That may be so, but I am still not willing to
compromise myself. A little pain is worth it to keep what’s important to me. Why is that so
hard for you?”

“If you don’t know the answer to that, I don’t know what to say,” Sokka sounded pissed.

“I know. I do. But you need to understand, this isn’t something I can let go of. I’ve lost
everything, everything about myself.” Shen could hear Zuli breathing hard. He shouldn’t be
listening, but he wasn’t going to move or announce himself either. “If I don’t have this, I have
nothing. My pride, my honour, that’s all that’s left. I… I have to do what I think is right.”

He was quiet for a long moment, and Sokka said nothing to break the tension. Zuli wasn’t
apologising or explaining himself to Shen, but hearing it helped a little. It helped him see the
mental context his decisions had been made in.

“Sokka, I know what I did hurt you. I know it hurt Shen, but it was my choice to make. My
choice how to deal with it. I am sorry for the pain I caused, but it was what I needed to do.”

Sokka was silent a long while. He was a smart and empathetic boy, he could probably
understand what Zuli was saying as well as Shen could.

Although Shen at least, reserved the right to still be upset about it, understanding or no
understanding.

“Okay,” Sokka said at last. “Okay. Please don’t do it again.”

“I can’t promise that.”

“Can you at least pretend to promise that?”

“No. But I will try not to put us in this position again.”

“I suppose that’s all I can ask for.” Sokka sighed gustily. “I guess it’s not fair to be mad about
one of the things I like most about you, just because it’s an upsetting aspect of it.”

“What thing? What things?” He sounded baffled, and a little squeaky, which was amusing
despite the circumstances.

“Your stubborn desire to do what you think is right. Even though half the time I disagree with
your definition of ‘right’, the tenacity and the drive kind of remind me of my sister. I enjoy
that about you.” There was a pause, and then Sokka chuckled. “Don’t make that face.”

Shen couldn’t resist lifting the tent flap a little to get a look at them.
They were sitting opposite each other on the bedroll. Completely focused on one another.
They hadn’t even registered the movement of the cloth that Shen had twitched aside. Zuli
was starting to look a little pink again, and Sokka was grinning.

“I like lots of things about you. Is that so strange?” Sokka asked.

Zuli shrugged, clearly unsure.

Sokka started ticking things off on his fingers. “I like your honesty, your bluntness, your
inability to tell a convincing lie, and the obvious compassion you try to keep hidden.”

Zuli had gone an almost alarming shade of red. He was really giving his blushing a workout
today.

“I can list your less pleasant qualities too, if you like.”

“No. Um.” Zuli looked a little wild, with his eyes flickering everywhere like he was actively
looking for a verbal escape route and not finding one. “I like your…. Um.” He was clearly
trying to come up with a compliment to match, and his face took on a countenance of
extreme concentration.

The moment dragged on uncomfortably.

“Don’t hurt yourself, buddy,” Sokka said, with an amused twist of his lips. “Although, Rude,
quite frankly.”

“I like your Sokka!” Zuli blurted with an air of desperation. “Your Sokkaness.”

Sokka snorted. “You like my me?” he grinned. “I suppose that works, thanks, Zu.”

Zuli looked both relieved and full of despair. Kind of like he was wishing the earth would
open up and swallow him and also resigned to the fact that he was just not that lucky. Sokka,
however, looked like the resulting expression was outrageously adorable, and probably
should be banned in all nations. He didn’t look smitten the way Zuli did sometimes, but he
looked…enchanted. Like all the idiot drivel coming out of his friend’s mouth was the best,
funniest, most endearing thing he’d ever heard.

It was cute, to the point Shen was feeling a bit sick, but in a good way. The feeling was such
a relief after the anger and the bitterness.

He yawned, jaw cracking. As entertaining as this was, he needed to get some sleep. He slid to
his feet and opened the tent. The boys both looked at him, Sokka still with the same amused,
goofy expression, and Zuli with pink cheeks and resigned, pouty shame. Seeing them both
looking at him like that was too much, and Shen couldn’t hold back. “Your Sokkaness,” he
said, and started laughing uncontrollably.

“Oh, shut up,” Zuli growled, going a deeper, richer red.

Sokka grinned in a way that had been missed this past week and Shen ruffled his hair as he
passed him. He did not ruffle Zuli’s, as he looked like he was waiting for the opportunity to
bite Shen’s hand off. Instead, he stuck his tongue out. Zuli’s face contorted into an even more
vigorous scowl, then he covered it with his hands and flopped backwards, before making an
aborted yelp of pain and rolling onto his front.

The reminder killed some of Shen’s amusement.

“Get some sleep, boys,” he said, as he began readying himself to do the same. He took his
shirt off, but kept his pants on, just in case of disaster that required him to be up and moving
quickly, and lay down on his bedroll.

Shen shut his eyes, but despite the laughter that had lightened his heart a little, all he could
see were images from earlier in the day and it made his chest ache. He wished he had Zuli’s
conviction, he didn’t know if doing the right thing had been the correct thing, and he didn’t
know if he could live with it. It was unfair to be angry at a kid for doing something stupid,
when he was an adult and needed to be the one to make the important decisions.

“Shen?” Zuli said from about half a foot away.

Shen’s eyes popped open and his heart rate soared. He hadn’t even heard the kid move. He
was sitting next to Shen’s bed, looking pensive.

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry.”

Shen pushed himself up into a sitting position. “I know. I’m still upset with you, though. I
gave you a way out. You could have taken it.”

Zuli was not great at keeping his voice down, and Shen had no doubt Sokka was also awake,
but the kid was giving them a chance to speak and pretending to sleep.

Zuli nodded, although Shen could barely make it out in the dark. “All the bad things that
have happened to you recently are my fault. You were captured, tortured, lost most of the
54th.”

Shen’s heart clenched at the reminder. “And I nearly froze to death. Let’s not forget that.”
Zuli’s face fell dramatically, Shen could see it even in the gloom. “I’m joking! None of that is
your fault.” He had to remember that his tendency to make light of things when stressed may
work well with his men, but tended to go over Zuli’s head.

He reached out and patted the boy’s shoulder. Zuli had not been receptive to touch earlier,
and he didn’t want to overstep, but the kid leaned into him, so he pulled him a bit closer,
giving him a one-armed hug. “I mean, you’ve not done great in my care. So far you’ve been
shot in the head, drowned, slashed with a sword, assaulted by a spark rock to the face,
although that one was your own fault, and thrashed, also your own fault, now I think about it.
But the point stands.”

He shook him gently. Zuli needed a person to be direct and honest with him to feel reassured,
but it was hard for Shen to put his feelings into words, and he probably wasn’t very good at
it. “I’m mad about it. I am. Because it hurt me to have to order that, to have to watch it, but I
do also understand it. So it’s not the sort of anger that’s going to cause problems tomorrow,
okay?”

Zuli let out a shaky exhale. “Okay.”

Fuck, it apparently wasn’t the kind of anger that would last past tonight. Right now, even.
“I’m sorry too. I should have done more to protect you.”

“No. That’s not your responsibility, it’s mine,” Zuli said firmly. “I will make my own choices
and live with the consequences.”

“Well, apparently I can’t stop you making them. And we will just have to agree to disagree
about how things went down.” He brushed a hand over the kid's thick hair. “But tell me, did
Suki help you plan what you were going to say?”

Zuli shifted a little. “A bit. But I sort of based it on a poem I read.”

There was a loud snort from the other bedroll, where Sokka was still pretending to sleep, and
Shen grinned. “Get some rest. We’ll be on the move tomorrow.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

A poem. Seriously, this kid.

Zuli shuffled back to his own bedroll, where Sokka’s continued lack of snoring showed he
was still awake, even if his snorting had not been as obvious as it had been. Zuli shoved his
friend over so they could get into whatever snuggling position they wanted for this evening.
Shen couldn’t really make it out, nor the quiet whispers that followed.

He wasn’t sure if he felt better after that little talk, but he did manage to slide into sleep
without any more haunting images flashing in front of his closed eyes.

The mood in the camp had shifted over the past few days. It was flowing like rising flood
water and just as unpredictable. Shen had kept an eye on Heng, in case of further trouble. But
far from being a threat, he had apologised to Zuli publicly. Whether that had been of his own
volition or after being prompted by Wei was unclear. But Zuli seemed shocked to his core by
it, which was a little heartbreaking. His eyes had gone wide and he had just blinked at the
man until Heng gave a small bow and left him to it. He seemed to realise it was confusion,
not scorn that had tangled Zuli’s tongue when Shen had spoken to him after. Heng had
warned Shen that other people were still upset and might prove to be a problem, although he
reassured him he was not one of them.

His words proved true. While integration was a lot easier among many of the people, there
was still a small set who seemed to have taken Zuli to be the focal point for their aggression
and contempt. Probably because he was unable to stop himself from responding. If they
jeered at him, he challenged them. He had to have a fucking minder when he went to eat to
stop there being a fight. Folk weren’t as open to it as they had been, some stepping in to calm
the situation, or even to protect him. But Shen couldn’t spare a man all day every day to
watch over him, and it was only a matter of time before things got nasty again.

“It only takes one slip, Shen,” Guo said as they walked through the camp. “The kid isn’t
wrong, he does have a right to defend himself. And if he’s backed into a corner he might...do
what he has to, to survive, if you catch my drift.”

“I know. But he hasn’t yet. I’ve never seen him do it accidentally.”

Guo shuddered, probably at the implication Shen had seen him do it on purpose. “But it’s a
possibility. And apart from the risk of him being murdered by the people here, it could cause
a lot of knock on issues for you, for Sokka and Suki, especially. If they think you were
hiding...that.”

Shen sighed. “But what the fuck can I do to stop it? We just have to monitor things and try to
plan ahead of any mishaps.”

“Mishap,” Guo said dryly. “There’s a word for it.”

As if their speaking about it had called a calamity into being, a loud screeching and
bellowing began from the stable area, the stable area where Zuli cared for the birds. Shen and
Guo looked at each other for a moment and then both started running.

Zuli was on the ground with a hand to his head, blood trickling between his fingers. He
looked dazed. Next to him, facedown on the floor, was the soldier who had instigated most of
the trouble, the one Suki had punched. He was still gripping the tree branch he had clearly
coldcocked the kid with. On top of him, was Dumpling.

She was a war bird, very capable of killing a man with her powerful kick or just trampling
him to death. Thankfully, the soldier still seemed to be alive, and was screaming vigorously.
Dumpling had chosen to try to gore him rather than squash him, although she was holding
him down with one clawed foot as she savaged him. Luckily she seemed to mostly be getting
mouthfuls of clothes, although with the way he was yelling and carrying on, it must have still
hurt a fair bit.

Guo was chuckling at the man on the floor, but as Zuli seemed to have recovered enough of
his faculties to try to kick the guy in the head from his sitting position, Shen went to grab him
before there was a repeat of the last unfortunate incident. He pulled the kid up by the arm. He
had a big knot on his head from the branch and he stank of bird shit, which he appeared to
have fallen in when he had hit the floor, something that was clearly making him mad.

“Okay, Zu?” Shen asked. Zuli looked at him with big eyes, and Shen realised he had used
Sokka’s occasional nickname for him instead of Zuli.

“He hit me in the head,” the kid said.

“I see that.” Shen caught the boy’s chin so he could have a closer look at the wound. It
seemed okay, the cut wasn’t deep, just bloody. Zuli wiped some of the red away with his shit
stained sleeve and Shen winced. Definitely going to see Qinwen and get it cleaned properly.

“We going to deal with him?” Guo asked scornfully, jerking a thumb at Dumpling and her
wailing victim. Shen watched the big hen vengefully rip strips out of the man’s clothes. It
was with some regret he ordered her back. She didn’t look enthused about obeying, eyeing
him as she went in for one final bite and shake. But despite her ire and crotchety nature, she
was well trained, and she backed off sullenly, a small piece of cloth hanging from her beak.
She looked pleased with herself.

The soldier was also covered in shit, and seemed shocked and still a little scared by the
unexpected mauling he had received.

“Healer,” Shen said to him grimly. “And discipline tomorrow. We’ll make room in the carts
for you—I warned you we wouldn’t go easy.”

“You’re not even going to listen to my side?” the man asked bitterly.

“You’re going to explain to me why you are in the stable area with a tree branch? And just so
happened to hit Li in the head with it? Don’t tell me you just found it here, or he attacked you
first. If he had, a tree branch wouldn’t have stopped him, trust me.”

The man looked furious, but pulled himself painfully to his feet, wiping poop off the front of
his clothes. Shen didn’t think this was one he could mollify with understanding.

Beside him, Zuli’s body was tight with fury. It had been less than seventy-two hours since the
last violent altercation. Something that didn’t bode well.

“Come on, kiddo,” he said, wrapping an arm across the boy’s shoulders and trying not to
breathe too deeply. “Let’s get you cleaned up and seen by the healer.”

As reluctant as he was to even consider it, they were approaching the point that it might be
best to part ways. If he thought it was safe to return the boys to Huang, and if they weren’t set
on going their own way, then he would fight this mess and keep them safe in the camp, one
way or another. But they had to leave to get to Ba Sing Se. And perhaps these incidents were
indicating it would be better sooner rather than later.

The thought filled him with dread. But, as usually seemed to be the case at the moment, he
didn’t really have much of a choice.

……………………

Azula woke suddenly from a dream of fire; red and inexplicably terrifying. The dark of her
tent felt ominous, with lingering spiderwebs of fear clinging to her. It took her only moments
to feel the presence of an intruder and she burnt away the remnants of her dream, reaching for
her own inner fire and lighting the tent with her flame.

The Dragon of the West was sitting at her travel desk. He was dressed in nondescript Earth
Kingdom clothes, his hands folded in his lap non-threateningly. Azula pulled back her
instinct to blast him out of existence.

If he had wanted her dead, she would be. A bitter thought.

“Princess Azula,” he said, calm and strangely warm. “I mean you no harm.”

“And my guards, did you mean them harm? How did you get in here, Uncle?” She used the
familial term deliberately.

He winked. “An old man has his ways. Please do not punish your people for my presence.”

“I shall promise no such thing.” If they lived, they would burn for this.

He regarded her. And she felt exposed in a way she hated, sitting up in her bed in her
nightclothes. She wasn’t stupid, she was more than able to fight in what she wore to bed. But
she could be better positioned for an attack if needed. She swung her legs out of the cot, feet
touching the cool floor, and grounding her.

“So, Uncle,” she said, conversationally. “To what do I owe this honour?” Her mind was
working swiftly, trying to understand, to counter. He wasn’t here to kill her, and she very
much doubted he was here to surrender. So what? What could he possibly be hoping to gain?

He nodded, looking pleased. It was irritating to think that he had in some way predicted her
cool reaction to his invasion of her tent. “I am here to discuss terms, my niece.”

“For what?” Her tone had dropped close to glacial.

“Your position is precarious. You are standing on the edge of a precipice,” he said. “You
know this. I merely wish to offer my services to guide and advise you.”

She sneered, just a little. “And why would you do that?” And why would she want it?

“You could also be our people’s only hope, if we ever emerge from the war.”

“My father is our people’s only hope.”

“If you believe that, and believe that he will not cause you harm, then I will offer myself as
your prisoner. Once you have heard me out, of course.”

She stared at him silent, and she hoped, unnerving. His clothes were stained with travel, his
boots worn. But he didn’t look unkempt. Not desperate. “I’m not sure you have anything of
use to tell me,” she said. What was the old fool playing at? What did he want? Knowing
people’s motivation made managing them so much easier. But she didn’t want to risk giving
out any information of her own. “I will listen,” she offered at last. “And you will give your
word to submit to me if I wish, when you’re done?”
“I swear it will be so.”

She gestured for him to continue and leaned back slightly, giving the impression of
relaxation. “Make your case, Uncle.”

“I will start with the options you have in front of you.”

She raised an eyebrow. She didn’t like the way that sounded, like whatever she chose would
have been something he had predicted, laid out for her.

“After we speak, you may lock me in chains and take me to my brother for execution. Or, if
you wish to let me go, I will give you the address of where I will be staying in Caldera, and
you may come to me. Either with my brother’s men, or for advice, if such a thing becomes
necessary.”

“Why would I need your advice, Uncle? You are nothing more than a disgraced, failed,
general.”

His lip twitched up, but there was no humour in his small smile. “I broke the siege of Ba Sing
Se because of my grief, not lack of tactical ability. And don’t forget, I am a general, my
brother is not. A skill you may find useful going forward. My brother has never even seen a
battlefield.”

“Why would I need advice from a general? You speak like there will be a civil war,” Azula
said sharply. That was something that would be disastrous for her nation and her people, and
if that was what he planned, then she would not even bother to take him back to her father.

“Will there not? If my brother decides you are too dangerous to live, will you go willingly
into the fire?”

That was… a lot more blatant than she normally allowed herself to contemplate. The thought
of it made her shudder. Being burned like Zuko, but worse, being consumed by her father’s
flames. The fact he might do such a thing to her....

The fact Iroh dared say such a thing made it worse. Because he had a point.

Yes, she could bring her uncle to her father, and he would be pleased. But how long would
his good will last? What did he intend to do if she couldn't keep his favour? Did he intend to
replace her with a more manageable heir? Or would he seek to control her? To shackle her
with a husband?

If that was his plan… Iroh was right, he might be useful to her. “Tell me more about your
intentions, Uncle. You say you will allow me to take you prisoner at any time, including in
Caldera. What’s the catch?”

“I may have one or two caveats.” His eyes glinted in the torchlight. There was good humour
in them.

“And those would be?”

“Well, first, I will insist that you do no harm to your guards. They will wake tomorrow none
the wiser. If you punish them, they will know there was a reason for it.”

He believed that after this discussion, she would let him go. He didn’t seem to doubt it at all.
She hated that. She hated he might be right even more. The urge to kill him just to prove him
wrong was strong, but she didn’t make foolish choices based on emotion. If she needed him,
she would use him, however annoying he was. She waved an imperious hand at him. “You
think I am in danger, and you are here to save me, is that it?”

His warm eyes turned sharp, gleaming brown and gold in the torchlight. “My brother is one
of the most powerful benders in a generation, and you will be stronger than him. Your flame
is so hot it burns blue, at fourteen. Imagine what you could do by the time you reach your
majority? I am concerned that is something your father thinks about often. You are only an
asset while you are obedient.”

“You are not convincing me to be disobedient, Uncle.”

“Azula, I will speak plainly. Your intentions and your loyalty do not matter. It is only Ozai’s
perception of them that does. And his perception will be warped by his own narcissism and
paranoia.” He sighed, and for a moment looked deeply pained. “I realise now that if he
thought for one moment he could have taken on myself and our father at eighteen or twenty,
he would have done so. He will be viewing you through the same lens. Do not forget how
obedient he was to your grandfather, to his face, at least. But in his heart, he always wanted
the throne.”

Azula could feel prickles running up and down her skin, it felt like the aftermath of the
lightning, alive, threatening, uncomfortable. “I don’t want to usurp him.” Just saying the
words sent shivery, awful feelings up her spine.

“That is irrelevant. His own ambition projected onto you is all he will see. I am concerned he
will not allow you to even reach your majority.”

To be quite honest, that was Azula’s fear, too. It made something flare with rage to hear it
said out loud. But at the same time, something deep inside her seemed to shrivel and cower.
Like hearing the words brought them to life.

Everything she strove for was to prove her loyalty to her father, to further him. But her stupid
uncle was right. Nothing she did was working, and he made a good case as to why.

“So you can offer me another path, can you?” she asked, soft and smooth as silk.

He looked at her for a long moment. “Perhaps. If you are willing to take it. I find myself
without family I care to claim. Aside from yourself.”

“So you’re offering to advise me on committing treason out of what? Sentiment?” she said.
She didn’t hide her scorn.

He was assessing her, watching closely. It was frustrating and disconcerting. Why was he
doing this? He was a fool, someone who had given up everything; his right to the throne, his
pride, his honour, their nation, because of hurt feelings at the death of his son. So, it wasn’t
beyond the bounds of possibility that he would do something as nonsensical as this.
Especially if he was still grieving her pathetic brother.

The question was, could she use it to her advantage? Would it be worth more or less than the
reward she would get from dragging him to her father in chains?

“Sentiment?” he said at last. “In part, there is sentiment, yes. You are my blood, it is true, but
it is more than that.” He sat a little straighter, and she shifted herself in response. “I will make
my position clear,” he said. “I wish the Avatar to defeat your father. I wish for the war to stop,
and I believe this is the only way to achieve it.”

Azula could feel her lips trying to pull back from her teeth like an animal. She fought to
control her face, show nothing. “So why not kill me while I slept, Uncle? And take the throne
for yourself?”

“I do not want it. Do not get me wrong, Azula. I intend to take it, if that is the only option.
But becoming Firelord is not my motivation. I wish for peace, and to atone for some of the
wrongs I have done. Restore what balance I can.” He shook his head, beard wagging stupidly.
She wasn’t sure she believed him. Her father always said Iroh coveted the throne, but was too
weak and ill liked to gain enough of a following. Whatever the reality of the first part, she
was aware he was still popular, despite his failure at Ba Sing Se.

He sighed, looking a little tired and drawn. “Perhaps you will understand revenge as a
motive. Your father took something precious from me. And I want him to burn for it.”

She shivered. There was a flash of something terrifying in him for a moment. Something that
called to her, like to like.

She breathed through the shiver that followed. Something precious. More precious than the
throne. Zuko, he meant, obviously. Her spies had still found nothing to confirm if he lived.
But she believed that he did. She wondered if the truth would change Iroh’s mind.

“I do not wish to stop the war, Uncle. And I do not wish to overthrow my father or become
Firelord before my time. You have offered me nothing more useful than the praise I will
receive when I deliver your burnt corpse to him.”

“I know you utilise your mother’s network.”

Azula felt her heart thump hard in her chest like she could feel the pump of blood around her
body with a sudden desire to move and fight and react.

“It is a fine one. I helped her establish some of it, although she had already done the
groundwork. A resourceful woman, smart. Trapped in an unwanted marriage.”

He left the ‘trapped by the children that marriage produced’ unsaid. Manipulative, cunning
old man. He must know something of her father’s plans. He could probably smell the fear
and rage she knew were oozing out of her like some sort of sick miasma.
“You say you will speak plainly? Then do. What do you know?”

“Only that he has been in talks with the sages. That rumours of a marriage are circulating.
Whether it’s his or yours is unclear.”

Well, that was of no use. She knew that. “And has my wise old uncle deduced which it is
more likely to be?”

He tapped his lip with a finger. The gesture reminded her of her brother. For one horrifying
moment, she felt jealousy towards Zuko. He had survived, he was free. Her battle was only
just beginning.

Azula sat straighter, shaking the feeling away. She was nothing like Zuko, he had literally
refused to fight. She was no coward, she was going to do more than fight. She was going to
win. And maybe her canny old uncle would offer a way to do that. If he failed to be useful, he
could be dealt with. And he was one of the very few people that she believed would never
sell her out to Ozai. He would gain nothing from that but a knife in the back.

“I know there are suitors who have shown an interest in me. I would be an obvious prize.”
She sneered at the thought. “I doubt my father would want to risk them getting impatient for
the power a union could offer.”

“Unless they had something he needed. Land, money, men. War is expensive.”

“Tsing’s son,” she said, partly to herself. Zhao had nothing to offer, he was popular in certain
circles, but he had no notable family and no land or wealth.

“Tsing himself, even,” Iroh said quietly. “He would prefer himself to his son. And he is
looking for a new wife after the tragic loss of the first two... or was it three? The last one
suffered a fall, I believe. Very sad.”

He would live to rue the day. “I would marry for the good of the nation, I will,” she said.
Although the thought filled her with horror. The idea of Tsing or Zhao daring to put hands on
her was... She stared unblinking at Iroh. Azula would not forget what that odious man had
done to her brother. She almost wished he would be the one to wed her, so she could make
their wedding night one to remember. Castration was too good for him.

“If he marries you to one of the many people who has expressed an interest, then he may
make strong political ties. Tsing and his boy have money to funnel into the war machine,
loyal men, stolen lands to feed the armies.”

She sat unspeaking. These were things she knew, had thought about, planned contingencies
for. But hearing them felt like a steel trap closing.

“Jianjun can’t bend,” she said. Probably why he was such an overreaching prat.

“That might not be a deterrent to your father. Just because he can’t bend, it doesn't mean his
children won’t be able to, but it does mean he would be considered less of a threat in trying to
steal the throne.”
“I’m surprised Tsing didn’t die from shame. His only child being a nonbender.”

Iroh made a little humming noise. “He has more than made up for it in his other abilities, his
use of the Guan Dao is unmatched in someone his age. And he is reported to be almost
supernaturally good in a fight. He may not be able to bend, but he has brought his father
honour in other ways. Although I understand he is a difficult boy.”

“I’m aware, Uncle. Get to the point.”

“There is a lot of ambition there, and I don’t think Tsing would want to wait to taste that
power. Nor would he or his son put up with a disobedient wife.”

Now that was deliberately engineered to make her furious. However, knowing that didn’t stop
the sensation of it running through her body. She had that feeling of wild freedom again as
her veins sang with it.

“They would die, either or both,” she said.

Iroh nodded like an old fool, and hummed again. “Yes, I know that, and I suspect so does
your father. He might want what they have to offer, but he won’t want them to live to claim
the throne. If you were to kill your husband, you would have committed murder. If he could
prove it, he could legitimately have you imprisoned.” Or executed.

“I can be betrothed, but not married for another two years. A lot can change in that time,
Uncle.”

“Indeed. And if he were to lose you as an heir, it would put the succession into an uproar.”

“So he would need to produce another.”

“Precisely. I believe he may try to undertake both options, take a wife and betroth you, or at
least invite suitors to make their interest known. It would be the smartest move.”

“He would live to regret that,” she said softly. The treason tasted hot on her tongue.

“I’m counting on it, my niece. I will see you in Caldera, and we can talk further.”

It was unspeakably annoying that she was going to let him live, let him walk out of here and
return home empty-handed. But she wasn’t a fool. If she was going to navigate this situation
and come out of it in one piece, then she would need allies. And if the situation changed,
well, she would enjoy arresting him.

…………………………..

Acting Captain Ro resented having to climb a tree in order to get a good view of the camp in
the small valley below. But it was worth the indignity to see for himself what was happening.
It was not as well guarded as the army camp had been, and the numbers were much more
manageable. Unfortunately, Ro’s own forces were depleted with Tsing’s men gone. An attack
was possible, they were a ragtag group, but the risks would have to be carefully mitigated,
and they had been clever with their camping spots so far. If he tried for them, he would need
to ensure success the first time. The inevitable losses would make a second assault next to
impossible.

Watching them had provided its own form of entertainment, Zuko was having far less of an
easy time of it than he had before. People were suspicious of him, they were testing him,
almost playing like a cat with a mouse. Watching the whipping had been a disappointment, it
hadn’t even drawn blood. Captain Shen had looked furious, though, which had been funny.
Although not as funny as the fact Zuko had apparently gone and rescued him from that bitch
Kazuma. Ro hoped the uptight little shit-smear got punished by Tsing for losing his prize.

He had added Kazuma’s name to the list of people he really wanted to spend some quality
time with. He was a firebender. Ro liked burning firebenders, there was always such a lot of
indignant betrayal when their own element ate away their flesh.

Captain Shen was on the list too. Ro didn’t enjoy having his prisoners taken away, and he
fully intended to make him pay for being denied. He indulged briefly in a fantasy of killing
him in front of Zuko. The bastard seemed to like the man, slept in his tent, even. The captain
was attractive, for an Earth peasant, something that apparently appealed to a little pervert like
Zuko. He could see why the boy might choose to spread his legs for the man. What he
couldn’t understand was why the captain bothered? Unless it was the boy’s age? But even so,
Ro couldn’t imagine wanting to wake up to that ugly face every morning. Not when there
were other options.

And how did Ro’s water rat fit in? He had assumed there was some sort of coercion
happening there, sexual or otherwise. Perhaps that’s what Zuko liked, he remembered the bite
on the captain's arm, so it certainly hadn’t started easy for the kid, but maybe he had
developed a taste for it. He grinned to himself. Well, he certainly hadn’t enjoyed it when Ro
had his turn. It was a fascinating and confusing situation. Perhaps that was the relationship?
Shen and the little savage? He also slept in the tent with the captain. That made more sense,
actually, maybe Zuko was just an extra for them to enjoy?

He put his eye back to the telescope to watch as Zuko waved his arms about angrily,
apparently berating the captain over something. That didn’t really fit with Ro’s hypothesis.
Why would the man let him get away with such behaviour? He looked unimpressed, arms
crossed over his chest, mouth twisted into an amused looking smile.

It looked indulgent. Ro couldn’t understand it at all. He had known Zuko was attracted to
men from his first week aboard the brat’s ship. Ro was young and fit, and he had caught the
kid looking at him. His unmarred check had flushed pink when Ro had smiled at him. Then
of course Zuko had become enraged and stormed off to shout at his uncle and practise his
weak, pathetic bending.

Ro had wondered how he could use that interest to his advantage. There had been a lot of
possibilities, but he had been thrown off the ship by Iroh before he could even begin to form
a plan. It made him angry that Zuko, who clearly had a perverse interest in his own sex, could
not overlook Ro’s own… slightly different proclivities. He could hardly take a moral high
ground, could he?

Ro couldn’t really give a shit about who a person chose to take to their bed, or how
consensual it was, but knowing these things about other people could give you all sorts of
advantages. He had his suspicions about Kazuma. From what he learned from his men, he
was unmarried, had never had any sort of scandal in the army, no sweethearts back home, and
didn’t visit brothels, nothing. To Ro, that was suspicious.

Ro himself preferred women, but he liked to consider his tastes to be somewhat omnivorous.
He was more than happy to fuck men if it gained him something. And everyone was fair
game when it came to torture, gender and age made no difference. Sex could easily be a part
of that, and he indulged in it when it would have the most effect.

He went back to watching. His little water rat was now apparently berating Zuko in turn,
pointing a finger in his face and waving the other arm as vigorously as the other boy had been
earlier. Ro thought maybe the kid had grown a little, he was still small, but he had at least put
on a bit of weight since he had left Ro’s company. He wondered what he would look like if
he was allowed to grow into a man. Like his father, perhaps. Another one on Ro’s list.

In the camp below, Commander Wei approached the two boys, and they became far less
animated, their caution obvious even from a distance. Very wise of them, Zuko would not
survive discovery, Captain Shen probably wouldn’t either, even if he didn’t actually know.

Ro narrowed his eyes. That was... always a last resort option. It would be a very risky move
to inform the man, and would rely on Wei choosing immediate execution rather than
attempting a ransom or any other such nonsense. But it could result in Zuko’s death. It would
also result in rumours, however. And although Ro thought he might survive them, maybe if
he presented himself against Zhao’s treasonous actions and lies, it was in no way guaranteed.

Wei himself was an interesting addition to the situation. If Ro could find a way to recapture
him, the ‘acting’ in front of the captain would no longer be a galling reminder of his lack of
real rank. Wei was a big fish, a very big fish. And whoever had been running East Lake was
going to die rather unpleasantly because of his loss. In fact, Ro suspected whatever
bureaucratic pissing contest had delayed his transfer from the camp for questioning was also
going to result in some nastiness for the people involved.

He watched as Captain Shen effortlessly placed himself between the commander and the
boys, who rather unsubtly slipped back into the tent. Clearly the man was aware that Wei
posed some risk to them, although how much he actually knew was still a mystery.

Ro took his eye away from the telescope and tapped it against his teeth. He hated the lack of
action, but it was probably still in his best interests to watch and wait for the time being.
There would be an opportunity.

When his patience paid off, it would be more than worth it.
Chapter End Notes

And some more amazing people shared some art!

Turtlearmadillo drew ShenHERE

And anna-was-here-1012 both Shen and Kazuma HERE

Please go give them some love!

Next chapter: Team Steam make some decisions, and the boys immediately find trouble.
But its okay, Zuko has a plan. Meanwhile, we catch up with Katara and the Gaang, who
are heading to Ba Sing Se and doing Just Fine after their third consecutive loss.
 Chapter 25
Chapter Summary

“You are the dumbest smart person I have ever known,”

Chapter Notes

No serious warning on this one (shocker!) Some vague sensory flashbacks and some
mention of nasty unfair death, but nothing graphic.

Also it is exactly 2 years since I began writing War Crimes. How time does fly.

Many thanks to my beta burkesl17, who has managed to wrangle my dyslexic nonsense.
All mistakes are my own.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The past week had been unreasonably stressful. Sokka just wanted them to catch a break, a
few days of proper rest before they decided what to do. He didn’t want to leave the camp.
Didn’t want to leave Shen and probably Suki. But he had to get to Ba Sing Se, not to mention
going back to Huang would be madness. Although there was a small part of him that wanted
to, for the illusion of safety and to see his dad. But it would be stupid and counterproductive
to contemplate it. Even staying with this group was getting to the point of being hazardous.

Shen had been right about Wei, he was just a bit too interested in them, even though he was
polite, and often acted to protect them where he could. Sokka didn’t think he was a bad guy,
but it was clear he was very fervent about his fight, his people, his hatred, more even than
Huang. Sokka didn’t know how the military rank system worked in the Earth Kingdom army,
but he thought that Wei perhaps outranked the general, which would be an interesting
situation when they arrived.

Wei had a kind face, though, and used it and his unflinching politeness to try to lull them into
a false sense of security. He always asked after their wellbeing, offered them advice or small
comforts. And, like this evening, had taken to inviting them to eat with him, Shen, and the
other important people in the men’s camp. It was not something that could be refused more
than once without seeming rude. And Sokka suspected being impolite to someone so
respected would not do them any favours.

Not being rude was hard for Zuko. Even on a good day when he was feeling comfortable, his
overall lack of a brain to mouth filter and abrasive attitude was… tricky to navigate.

Seated around Wei’s fire, clutching his cup of broth in bloodless fingers, Zuko was clearly as
wary as Sokka, but less subtle. He was tense and alert, and the big purple bruise on his head
from being hit yesterday was standing out like an angry reminder of all the tensions currently
surrounding him in the camp.

Sokka hadn’t watched the soldiers’ punishment, but he knew Shen had kept his word and
hadn’t gone easy this time. Unfortunately, Sokka didn’t think the deterrent would last more
than a few days.

“Sokka?” Wei asked amicably. “I understand the Fire Nation was chasing the two of you
when you were picked up by Captain Shen?” He lifted his tin mug to drink a little broth.
“Why was that? If I may ask?”

Sokka could see from the lack of expression on Shen’s face that information hadn’t come
from him. It was inevitable it would get out, though, they both knew that. Zuko was still and
quiet beside him, the tension coming off him was enough to make Sokka’s hair want to stand
on end. He smiled as disarmingly as he knew how. He wasn’t sure if Wei was angling to get
more information on Zuko specificity, but he probably was. So it was time for his old friend;
deflection.

“My father is Chief Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe,” he said. By the look on Wei’s face,
he hadn’t known that. “Li and I were both captured during the battle at the North Pole.
Admiral Zhao wanted information from me.” He swallowed tightly. Talking about it,
however vaguely, brought up stuff. Sokka could almost taste the stale water running into his
nose, feel the sensation of drowning. He fought it down, focusing on watching the cup in
Wei’s hand. “He wanted to ransom me back to my dad.” He looked at Shen, passing the story
onto him, to give himself a moment to regulate his breath.

“He wanted to exchange Sokka for his father,” Shen said. Keeping his expression neutral.
“Obviously that wasn’t an option, given the circumstances.”

“I see. That must have been very hard for you both.” There was nothing in Wei’s face but
sympathy and concern.

“Yeah,” Sokka said.

“How did you escape?”

“We jumped overboard,” Zuko broke in, voice clipped and uninviting. “Then we ran until
Shen found us.”

Wei opened his mouth again and Zuko cut him off rudely. “Thank you for the food. I want to
speak to Suki before we retire.” He rose and bowed stiffly, then stalked off before any
acknowledgement from the men was forthcoming. They all stared at his retreating back.

Sokka shrugged apologetically. “It was a hard time. He doesn’t like to talk about it.”

Shen cleared his throat. “Sokka, if Commander Wei doesn’t mind, and if you have finished,
would you go with him? I don’t want him wandering around by himself in the dark.”

Sokka had finished his food two minutes after sitting down, and had been suffering though
watching other people sip their own meagre portions. The escape from both that and the
conversation was a blessing. He nodded, very serious. “Commander Wei, thank you for your
company.”

“The pleasure’s all mine, Sokka. Go and look after your friend.” He didn’t look outwardly
disappointed, but there was something in his eyes that suggested otherwise.

Sokka had to sprint to catch up with Zuko, who was moving at a fast pace. He wasn’t taking
the quickest route through the camp, perhaps giving himself enough time to unwind, or
perhaps avoiding possible antagonistic soldiers.

“I don’t like that man,” Zuko said as Sokka drew abreast of him.

“Hmm,” Sokka agreed. “I like him well enough. I just don’t trust him. Or at least, I don’t
trust him with our best interests. I think he’s probably a pretty good general or whatever.”

Zuko grunted eloquently.

“Were you planning to see Suki for something in particular?” Sokka eyed his friend. He was
all frowny, which was pretty normal. Although he had been agitated at dinner, he did look
better now, focused on something positive. He had been spending a lot of time with Suki.
Sokka had thought it was because he had been avoiding her, and Sokka and Zuko had had a
bit of a tense time over the past few days, forcing them into each other’s company. But Zuko
seemed enthusiastic to spend time with her, or at least his version of enthusiastic—perhaps it
was more than it looked?

“Do you like her?” Sokka asked before giving himself time to think. He couldn’t blame Zuko
if he did, Suki was beautiful, clever and she could probably fight him to a standstill.

Zuko gave him a look out the corner of his eye and huffed out an annoyed breath. “I suppose
I do. She is a skilled warrior, and she cares for you and for Shen.” Two of the most important
attributes in a person, apparently.

Suddenly feeling a little off balance, Sokka tugged on Zuko’s sleeve, only slowing his pace
fractionally and causing a more vigorous scowl to form on his friend’s face. “Do you want
me to meet you back at the tent?” he asked. “I don’t want to get in the way.”

“In the way of what? We’re just going to patrol the perimeter. We do it every night.”
“Don’t be difficult, you know what I mean. If you like her...”

“I just told you I did!” Zuko snapped. Sokka suffered a slightly unfocused wave of jealousy.
Which was unfair really, he had made his choice and it would hardly be right for him to
object, as he had made it clear to Suki he liked someone else.

“Okay, calm down.” He gave Zuko a little nudge with his elbow. “It’s just that this is the first
time since I’ve known you that you’ve shown any romantic interest in a girl, that’s all.”
Usually the mention of girls was enough to make him all flustered and defensive. Sokka
wasn’t sure if that was because of Fire Nation culture stuff, or if it was because he was self-
conscious about his looks or some other reason. But this interest had to be a good thing. “I
want to be a supportive wingman.”

That feeling got all tight in his gut again. And he was so focused on smiling though it he
almost missed the expression on Zuko’s face, which would have been a shame, because it
was a good one.

His eyes were wide, and his mouth was hanging open a bit. Sokka grinned at him. When his
face didn’t shift, he poked Zuko in his pouty lower lip, making his jaw snap shut and his
mouth tug into a familiar tight frown. “It’s fine, buddy. If you like her, I mean. She’s
awesome.”

“Um,” Zuko said. “Okay. Thanks.” He walked forward a few steps and stopped. “Um. Don’t
tell her though, okay?” He looked like he had been hit in the head again, like he was both
processing what Sokka had said, and panicking simultaneously. It was unclear how his
thoughts were going to settle, but it was a very entertaining expression.

“We’re running short on time here, so you should think about coming clean.”

“No! No, I don’t want to do that, okay?” He was blinking rapidly and looked like he had his
lying face on, which was odd. The ways of the Zuko remained puzzling, despite how much of
an open book he was at times.

“Sure, buddy. Up to you.” Sokka supposed Zuko was worried she might not like him back.
He didn’t think Suki would care about the scar, which might be something Zuko was
concerned about, but she might still take issue with the whole Fire Nation (ex) prince thing
and the burning down her village thing. All worthy concerns, but Sokka couldn’t really
imagine someone not liking Zuko, once they had got past the prickly, shouty exterior and into
the bizarre but squishy centre. But then, he had a unique perspective.

Zuko looked very pained, and he stopped a moment, giving Sokka an unblinking stare. “I
thought maybe you and she…?” he trailed off.

“No! We talked about it. Like I said, there’s someone else I have feelings for, so it wouldn’t
be right or fair.”

“The northern princess?”

“Yeah.”
Zuko nodded and started walking again. “Don’t say anything, Sokka, promise me.” Blink
blink blink. Even from the side, Sokka could see his lashes fluttering.

“I won’t. It’s up to you. I’m just saying we might have to split up soon, and you might not get
another chance.”

Zuko looked a little glum, but he shrugged. “Even more reason.”

Sokka supposed that could make sense too, not wanting to exasperate the feeling of loss,
which was already going to be substantial when they left.

“Suki!” Sokka said when they caught sight of her.

Suki looked tired and worn. She was as busy as they were, keeping order and protecting the
women’s camp, but she was also spending time sitting in vigil over her friend, who was still
doggedly clinging to life despite the seriousness of her injuries.

“Hey, boys,” she said with a small but genuine smile.

“How’s Jing?” Sokka asked.

Suki shrugged. Which said all that was needed. Sokka stepped forward to give her a hug, but
then suddenly felt awkward. Instead, he just stared at her. One of her eyebrows raised at his
moment of indecision.

“We need to patrol,” Zuko snapped, too loud and weirdly aggressive.

Suki’s other eyebrow raised. “We don’t. But we should. Weirdo.”

Zuko’s lip jutted out again. He was discombobulated and angry and might blow. Sokka raised
both hands. “Well, we could all go, maybe?” As much as he wanted to be a supportive friend,
he knew Zuko well enough to spot some self-sabotage coming a mile away.

“Sure. I would like that,” Suki said. “And I wanted to talk to you both, out of the way of
listening ears. If you can control your weird rage that long?” she said mock sweetly to Zuko,
who flushed.

“Let’s go then,” Sokka forced as much good cheer into his voice as he could, and ushered
them forward.

They slowly walked the perimeter. Suki was correct, they didn’t need to do this, there were
guards stationed around the women’s section, and the camp as a whole. It was just something
Zuko liked to do to make himself feel more secure, or perhaps to feel useful, and Suki
indulged him because she was nice like that. Although perhaps it could mean something
more? Sokka honestly wasn’t sure. He didn’t think she was aware of Zuko’s interest, and that
worried him. If she turned him down, he would be very hurt.
“So, what did you want to say?” Zuko asked. He was stalking at a fast pace, his body still
tight with tension.

“There’s been a lot of talk about the Blue Spirit around the women’s camp.”

“What kind of talk?” Sokka had a tight ball of anxiety in his belly and he could feel it welling
up like bubbles from under the ice.

“Asking if people saw him fight. Also, what people think about him. That’s the bit that’s
worrying me.”

“Who’s asking?” Zuko said, frowning off into the dark.

“There are a few of the women who seem to direct the talk.” Suki’s hand was resting on her
sword hilt, fingers tight. It was the same sword she had picked up when Zuko had rescued her
and Shen. She seemed to have grown attached to it.

“They have connections with Wei?” Sokka asked bluntly. Because that had to be the case.

“Yeah, with some of his soldiers, maybe him directly. He comes to talk with some of them,
and with me and Qinwen.”

Sokka drew in a breath of the chill, fresh air. It tasted like approaching rain, and the stars
were blocked by cloud. “Asking people’s opinions on the Blue Spirit worries me. We know
he suspects, right?”

“There’s no proof,” Zuko said firmly.

“Doesn’t really matter if there is or not. That’s not how these things work.”

Zuko stopped, causing the two of them to halt as well. “What are you worried about?
Specificity?” he asked. He looked angry, but Sokka could see the anxiety.

“That your obvious Fire Nation blood might be bad for the image they want to present. An
Earth kingdom hero turns out to really be a dirty... you know.”

“Half breed, mongrel,” Zuko said with contempt. No matter what happened, or his options
before, Sokka didn’t think that his friend would ever look down on a person for having mixed
blood after his experiences.

“Knowing the truth would be worse,” Suki said, kicking leafy scrub as they began walking
again.

They were not doing a great job of actually patrolling, seeing as they were not paying all that
much attention beyond the three of them.

“Although, they could spin it in their favour,” Suki continued sourly. “They could, but I don’t
think I trust them to actually do it. The hate is too strong.”
She was right, they could make it work—it would be even better with Zuko’s true identity,
Fire Prince turning against his father and nation and becoming the hero of his enemy’s
people? Epic stories were made from that kind of thing. But in reality, folk didn’t want
turncoats fighting the good fight, they wanted blood. Ozai’s blood, and if they couldn’t get it
from the source, they would make do with the next best thing.

“We need to talk to Shen.” Sokka said. His friends looked grim. They could read between the
lines to what he meant: We need to leave.

The mood in the tent was resigned and miserable. No one wanted to have this conversation,
but Sokka suspected it had been on all their minds for the past few days at least.

“We have to go,” he said. May as well get it out there. “I need to get to Ba Sing Se, I need to
find my sister.”

Shen shot him a narrow look. Sokka opted to ignore it. He hadn’t figured out exactly how he
was going to tell Zuko about the drill. He didn’t think his friend would try to stop him, not
after all they had been through, so on the way seemed the best bet, once the anxiety and
sadness of leaving had mellowed a little.

“Yeah,” Shen said. “I don’t think it’s safe for you to go back to Huang, although I wish that
wasn’t the case. And Wei... I don’t know what his game is. But whatever his agenda, I don’t
think you want any part of it.”

Zuko was glaring and chewing his lip, but he said nothing, so Sokka looked at Suki. “What
about you? Will you stay or come with us?”

She pursed her mouth unhappily. “I want to come, but I can’t. Jing is still very ill, and I can’t
take her or abandon her. Ruoxi has been a very competent leader in my absence, but I have a
responsibility to see them safe.” She grimaced. “Perhaps, after, we will head to the city.”

‘After’ could mean a lot of things, and Sokka’s heart ached for her. “I would like that,” he
said quietly. Then he elbowed Zuko in the side. “Li would too, wouldn’t you?”

He grunted, looked confused, and then flushed. “Sure,” he said grumpily. Suki’s expression
turned arch, but she didn’t comment.

Shen’s eyebrow slightly raised as he watched the interplay between them. “After the last
incident, I started sending out scouts, looking for a place for you to cross the river safely.
There are smugglers on the banks, taking people across for a price.” He shrugged
apologetically. “We don’t have much to offer them, just what’s been scavenged from
abandoned farms, which doesn’t amount to much, but I think it will be enough.”

“Oh!” Sokka said, making Zuko jump and transfer his glare to the side of his head. Sokka
ignored it with long practice and hopped to his feet, grabbing his bag from where it was
stashed by the tent wall. “We have money! Actually, um, most of it is your money. I forgot
about it,” he said a little sheepishly.

“My money?” Shen looked amused, although he clearly didn’t know what Sokka was talking
about.

“Yeah. We took it from your tent. The plan was to hand it over when we found you, or to, um,
keep if you were... you know.”

“Dead,” Zuko added helpfully.

“Cheeky little fuckers,” Shen said admiringly. He watched as Sokka set aside the purse with
the money from Taiju, and handed the larger purse back to him. Shen weighed it in one big
palm. “It’s not much for a life’s work, is it?” He tipped half into his other hand. The gold and
silver glinting in the low light. “You keep this.” He held it out.

Compared to all they had done for each other, it was barely anything. Money was hardly
comparable to rescue and support or even comfort, but Sokka could feel his throat tighten
with emotion. It wasn’t the gesture or the coin; it was the confirmation they would be leaving
one of the few people out in the world who truly cared about them, both of them.

“I don’t need your charity,” Zuko said, ruining the moment in typical Zuko fashion.

“Shut up, Li,” both Sokka and Suki said, making him glower harder. Sokka poked him. “You
are hereby excluded from this discussion, due to pride being more important than
practicality,” he told him.

“It’s not,” Zuko insisted, despite evidence to the contrary.

“How were you planning to cross the river? Swim?”

Zuko’s sullen face said yes, that was exactly what he was planning.

“No,” Sokka said. “We need to take our tent, our bedroll, all of our stuff.”

“And also you would die,” Shen put in mildly. “The river is wide. A strong swimmer could
cross it if they were well practised, fit, and lucky, but the currents are treacherous and
extremely dangerous.”

“We would have Dumpling,” Zuko protested. Apparently he spat in the face of currents.
Maybe he had been planning to shout them into submission, or was expecting the ostrich
horse to be impervious to them.

Shen’s mouth twisted up, and he rubbed a hand through his hair. He had trimmed it back to
neatness since they had started travelling with Wei. “Zuli, I’ve spoken to the refugees that
tried to make it to the city, and Qinwen, who came from there. I don’t think you will get her
inside the walls.”

Zuko looked stricken. Sokka felt for him. Even though it was the least of the three people...
two people and a bird, they would have to leave behind, it was still a loss. And perhaps the
one he was more comfortable sharing openly.

“If you want to try, you can,” Shen continued. “But I suspect it’s going to be hard to get
yourselves in, let alone a bird. And if there’s a siege...”

She would go in the pot. Sokka shuddered.

Zuko nodded, eyes down. “Okay. We take a boat. Just the two of us.”

Shen reached across and clasped his shoulder, giving him a gentle shake. “Suki and I will see
you in Ba Sing Se when we liberate the city. Dumpling too, when she’s off the menu.”

Zuko growled half-heartedly at him, although he was leaning into his touch. They all knew it
wouldn’t be that easy. The likelihood of the troops winning any fight for Ba Sing Se was not
great. But it would be even less if Sokka didn’t get there first, and somehow meet the Earth
King and give him the plans. That would be much easier to achieve if he had the Avatar, they
could probably just knock on the front door if Aang was with them. Well, he would deal with
that... soon. Step one, get across the river.

In preparation for the inevitable leave-taking, Suki had started sleeping in Shen’s tent with
them. Probably not the most politically astute move for the camp, but hopefully it wouldn’t
be an issue for much longer.

Having her close by hadn’t improved Zuko’s mood, and he was snappish and restless. But
when they managed to sleep, it was in a comfortable, warm pile, like the early days post
rescue, hiding in the cave. There was something safe and restorative in it for all of them,
some of the bags under Suki’s eyes had even reduced a little.

Sokka woke at a sudden noise. He opened his eyes and groggily tried to take stock of his
limbs, which seemed to have spread out while he slept. Guo was just inside the tent flap,
barely visible in the low light. “Captain?” the man said.

Shen shoved one of Sokka’s legs off his chest and sat up, rubbing his face vigorously. “Guo,
what’s happening? Camp okay?”

“Camps fine.”

Sokka let his heart rate settle a little. No fight, very good. Beside him, Zuko was awake and
alert, looking tense, but Suki was still out for the count. The girl slept even heavier than he
did, which was impressive.

“Kind of cuddly in here, Captain,” Guo said, the flash of his teeth in the moonlight the only
definition Sokka could see on his face. “Muyang came back from his scouting. We’ve found
a boat.”

Sokka was suddenly wide awake, and reality was suddenly very present and very terrifying.
They were leaving.

Now.

Zuko reached over and pinched Suki awake, Sokka knew how much those fingers hurt, but
he was suddenly so full of fear he couldn’t even find the breath to laugh when she reached
across and punched Zuko in the arm before she was even properly awake.

They had been waiting for this, and they were packed and prepared at the end of every day.
But he thought this might be harder than leaving his dad, probably because that had taken so
much out of him, and now he had to do it again. Had to leave the protection Shen and even
Wei offered, and go out there again, with Ro and Zhao and fuck knows what else.

Zuko headed for the stables to say goodbye to Dumpling, and Suki ventured out with Guo to
discuss plans.

Numbly Sokka started rolling their bedroll and collecting the small bits that weren’t packed
up.

When he was done, Shen caught his arm. “It’s going to be okay, Sokka. You have this. I have
complete faith in you.”

That meant a lot, but Sokka found his tongue was tied and he said nothing, just stared up at
his friend.

“I’ll see you both in Ba Sing Se, so will your dad, I’m sure of it,” Shen said, intense and
warm. “But Sokka, you will need to tell him, okay? You need to tell Zuli why you’re going.
It’s going to hurt him if he finds out on his own that you were withholding things.”

“I know, I will, when we’re on the way.” Shen nodded and pulled him in for a hug. He wasn’t
as warm as Zuko, but he was big and his arms were tight. It made Sokka feel safe, at least for
a few moments.

Stepping back was hard. Leaving the tent was harder.

“Did you have to bring her out?” Guo asked as Dumpling eyed him and the river with equal
suspicion.

Zuko seemed reluctant to explain himself, so Suki elbowed him in the ribs and grinned at the
older man. “She gets to say goodbye, too.”

“I see,” Guo said, very solemnly.

The water was lapping at the shore, the cold wind creating waves. Sokka could just make out
the small boat in the darkness and the two men standing by. It didn’t seem inviting.
Zuko was focusing his attention on Dumpling, petting her beak and feeding her something
from his pockets. Suki snorted. “Why does the bird get all the love and not me?”

Sokka grinned, although his heart felt heavy. “Will a hug from me do?”

“I think it will.” She slung her arms around him and squeezed, it was a warm, solid embrace
and he held her as tight as he could, making her splutter.

“I’m going to miss you. I hope you’ll join us later.”

“I will. I don’t trust the two of you to survive without help.”

“Thanks. Your high opinion of my abilities always makes me feel so loved.”

Suki squeezed him even harder. “Your pet firebender will provide it in my absence, I’m
sure,”she said, voice low.

Spirits above and below, he was going to miss her and her annoying insinuations. “Look after
Shen and Dumpling.”

“I will. And you morons look after each other too.” She pushed back and smiled up at him. “I
can’t believe I’m asking you to look out for that dickhead.”

He snorted. “You love him too.”

“Maybe. Sometimes. Just be careful with him. Don’t get me wrong.” She poked him in the
nose. “It’s not because I give a shit about his dumb self. I just don’t want him to fry you if
you piss him off too much.”

“Sure. Whatever you say, Suki.” He backed away from her with regret, and turned to the two
men watching with matching smirks. Sokka gave Guo a quick hug, surprising him and
making him look slightly abashed by the show of affection. It wasn’t something Sokka had
been too enthusiastic about before the boat, hugging people who weren’t family, but now
things were different. Each touch of another person with affection was precious.

Then he hurled himself at Shen and squeezed, receiving the same pressure in turn. “Shen, say
hi to my dad for me. Tell him I’m…” He swallowed tightly. “Tell him I’m sorry, okay? And I
miss him. And that I love him.”

“I’ll tell him.” Shen gently pushed him back and looked down at him. “Look after each
other.”

“Hey,” Suki said from over by Dumpling. “Again, I ask you how come that thing gets a hug
and not me?”

Zuko looked indignant. “Dumpling is not a thing.” He wasn’t hugging her, but his hands were
in her deep plumage, giving her scratches in her favourite places.

“So?” Suki held out her arms, and he inspected them closely before reluctantly allowing her
to embrace him.
Sokka paused in his goodbyes to watch with interest, as they seemed to have a hushed,
intense conversation. An evil smile formed on Suki’s face as she lent in to whisper something
that made Zuko’s face obviously flush, even in the low light.

“Do I even want to know?” Guo asked, voice wry.

Sokka shrugged. “Probably not.”

The whispering intensified for a moment and then Suki threw her head back and laughed,
quickly covering her mouth and muting the sound, although her eyes remained crinkled up in
apparent glee.

Sokka was worried, looking at Zuko’s chagrined face, but she leaned in, giving him a kiss to
his left cheek. Sokka didn’t think she had thought about which side it was, but it had clearly
startled Zuko and he raised a hand to touch the spot she had pressed her lips. But after a
moment of surprise, he gave her a tiny smile and hugged her back.

Sokka fought down a wave of jealousy, but he was glad they had got their feelings out in the
open. At least, he thought that was what had happened. Although she hadn’t kissed him on
the mouth, so perhaps it had not gone the way he had hoped. He didn’t look upset though, he
looked almost relieved. Sokka would try to avoid asking and let Zuko tell him. Maybe.
Probably not. He would give him a few days and then grill him.

Suki gave him a last squeeze and came back to Sokka. She was giving him an amused,
incredulous look that he was finding hard to interpret.

“You are the dumbest smart person I have ever known,” she said as she reached him.

“As before, I chose to interpret your mockery as love. Why am I dumb now?”

She lowered her voice. “That’s not for me to say. But please, I hope there will come a time
you will look back to this conversation, and think, ah, Suki was right. Which I always am,
something you will learn, probably the hard way. And then you will think, I, Sokka, am
indeed a dumbass.”

“Am I supposed to know what you’re talking about?”

She sighed and shook her head.

There was one farewell left, and Zuko seemed like he might prefer to hurl himself into the
river rather than actually say the words. He stood looking awkward, before pointing himself
vaguely in Shen’s direction and looking at his chest, rather than his face. “Bye,” he said and
gave a half-hearted, stupid little wave.

Shen was giving him the fondest, warmest look and Sokka was torn between cooing or
laughing at them.

“Come here, kiddo,” Shen said and when Zuko stubbornly didn’t move, he stepped forward
and tugged him into his arms, completely smothering him. Shen buried his face in Zuko’s
hair, and just held him for a moment. Then finally, Zuko raised his own arms and hugged
back, just as fierce.

“Aww,” Suki whispered loudly, and Sokka elbowed her.

Shen released Zuko, pushing him back gently before cupping his face with one hand. “Stay
alive, Zuli. Stay safe. I’ll see you in Ba Sing Se.”

Zuko nodded. “Stay safe, Lieutenant.”

Zuko had put his silly wide-brimmed hat on again, making it harder to see his eyes and scar,
but Sokka could see the lines of his mouth, and although he was being very stoic as they got
in the boat, Sokka thought he was trying not to cry. It was sweet and sad to see. But it was a
good thing that he had formed this attachment, even though it hurt right now. Sokka’s own
feelings were tight in his chest, and his eyes were stinging a little, as they watched the dim
figures on the shore get swallowed up by the dark.

The journey was not a comfortable one. The boatmen were grim and watchful in a way that
put Sokka’s teeth on edge, like they were considering if they would be worth robbing and
dumping them in the water.

Zuko looked like he was hoping they might try. Perhaps the waves of danger coming off him
would be enough to get them across safely.

The night was cool with a strong wind. Zuko was holding his hat on with one hand, still
glaring at the boatmen from under the wide brim. Sokka couldn’t settle, the fear of the
unknown still freezing his bones. The movement of the small craft felt so familiar he had a
sudden burst of homesickness and longing for his family. He couldn’t let himself dwell on the
past though. They still had another almost insurmountable task ahead, and distraction would
only be detrimental to its success.

Apart from the struggle of getting to the city, the struggle of getting into the city and the
struggle of getting to see the Earth King, there was one further concern on his mind: What
was going to happen if one or both of them achieved their secondary goals? What if Zuko
actually found his uncle? Would he leave? Would Sokka just let him go?

Iroh was still someone Sokka wasn’t sure of. Until he met the man and assessed him
personally, he wasn’t going to trust Zuko’s opinion of him. Zuko wasn’t the worst judge of
character, he seemed suspicious of everyone, but he had weird ideas about people in relation
to himself, and he was clearly desperate for love and acceptance. Sokka wouldn’t have
believed that, before witnessing his relationship with Shen.
He wished he could introduce Zuko to Katara properly, without all the past baggage, because
he didn’t know anyone who could more freely give what he needed. Fuck, Sokka missed her.

He ruthlessly shoved the sense of longing away again. But that was problem number two:
What to do if he succeeded? If he got news of Aang? He was going to do what he had to
regarding the drill plans, but then, assuming they were not trapped in the city during the
potential siege, he would go after his sister.

What the fuck was he going to do with Zuko if that was the case? Take him? Leave him? He
didn’t want to abandon him, didn’t want to be separated from him. Sokka didn’t think Zuko
would betray him—at least not a surprise betrayal. He would at least tell Sokka if he was
going to resume his Avatar hunting, and they would part ways.

Sokka didn’t want to part ways.

But he was also completely loyal to his people, his family and the Avatar. He would do
whatever it took to help win the war. He had hope, though; he thought there had been enough
of a shift that Zuko would at least think about his options more carefully than he would have
done two months ago. Even with the Avatar, there was no way home for him. Although
Sokka wasn’t sure he had given up on the idea, and he had not expressed any disloyalty to his
evil, sack-of-shit father. It was a concern.

Sokka needed more time.

“I can see the bank,” Zuko said, squinting through the dark.

Sokka nodded. They would have some breathing room, at least. He didn’t need to panic yet,
they had three very big problems to overcome before they could even start on the next stage
of worrying.

The boat ground against the rocky shore, and Sokka felt tension shoot through his body. They
really were alone. They unloaded themselves, and it felt good to be on solid ground. The
sense of vague threat from the smugglers was still very present, but now at least they could
fight if they needed to.

“You want us to take you to a town?” Scowly boat man said.

“Nope.” Sokka smiled winsomely at him. “We’re good from here.”

“Only a couple more coins.” The man was tall and wide, but Sokka kept the smile on his face
as he shifted his position slightly for better access to his weapons.

“He said no,” Zuko snapped, hauling up their bags and rearranging things so his swords were
both obvious and easy to draw. Even with half a campsite strapped to his back and a silly hat
covering his eyes, he looked threatening enough that the guy dropped it.

Sokka was still concerned, though. He didn’t like the way they had been looking at them. He
could feel the weight of the men’s gazes as Zuko dragged him down the game trial leading
away from the river bank.
As soon as they were out of sight, and without more than a quick glance at each other, they
left the path and waded into the woods. Sokka was about fifty-fifty on whether they would be
followed, but he wasn’t ready to take chances.

Zuko set off at his usual awful pace, obviously in a foul mood and only answering Sokka’s
comments with sour grunts. Sokka resigned himself to trailing behind him and catching
branches to the face. What was worse, it was very hard to see with barely any light from the
moon penetrating through the trees, and Zuko was walking into bushes and shrubs with
frequency, snarling angrily. To make matters even more miserable, about an hour into their
hike, the rain started coming down hard. Sokka was annoyed it seemed to be drowning out
his vigorous complaints.

Zuko stopped dead and turned on him, almost making them collide. “Will you shut up?”

Oh, so he could hear, he was just being a dick. “Will you be sensible? One of us is going to
break an ankle. Not to mention one of us, namely me, is going to get sick from this weather.”

“We can press on a bit further.”

“We can’t.” Sokka planted his feet. “Those men won’t be able to follow us in the dark
anyway, not with this rain putting out any torchlight. It’s too treacherous for them, and it’s too
treacherous for us. Let’s stop. We can get going at first light.”

Zuko looked aggravated, but he heaved a nasally annoyed sigh and nodded. Sokka could
barely make out the movement in the gloom, but he celebrated a quiet victory. He knew any
outward gloating would probably result in another hour’s forced march.

They heaved their stuff down under the dubious shelter of a patch of closely growing trees.
Zuko unpacked their tent and began setting it up with determination. It swiftly became
apparent he had no idea what he was doing.

Sokka watched him struggle and growl at it with some spiteful amusement, but when the
growling turned into shouting, he stepped in—no need to pinpoint where they were, and
Zuko’s voice definitely carried over the sound of the rain.

He helped get the tent into an upright position with some interest. It was cleverly constructed
and lightweight for its size. It wasn’t warm or secure in the way Water Tribe ones were, and
wouldn’t withstand a strong wind, but it would be steady in the current downpour. He was
curious about the way it joined together. Given some time and research, he figured he would
be able to improve on the design.

Also up for improvement was the big hole in it.

“When you said it got slashed up in the fighting, you weren’t kidding, were you?”

Zuko scowled at the flapping edges of the rip. “It was dark.”

And he didn’t see as well in low light, at least, not in detail. He seemed to fight okay, but that
was based on movement and intuition. Sokka sighed. “We should have looked at this before
we left. We could have bullied Shen into fixing it for us.”

Zuko’s lip stuck out at the mention of Shen’s name. They should probably talk about that, but
Sokka wasn’t sure he had it in him right now. “Okay. How do we fix it?” he asked instead.
Rain had plastered his hair to his forehead and drops were running down his face and into his
eyes.

Zuko looked like a pouty, drowned rat, which lifted Sokka’s mood a little. He thought no
matter how close they were, and how much they cared for each other, he would never stop
finding amusement in Zuko’s disgruntlement over mundane inconveniences. Or his pouting.
He clearly had no idea how ridiculous it looked.

“We could drape something over the top,” Zuko suggested. “Put your Water Tribe outer tunic
thing over it.”

“That’s not what it’s called.” Sokka considered it. It was probably the best option, there was
some waterproofing on it, although in this weather the water would sink in through the fur at
the sides. “It will be all wet and heavy tomorrow,” he gripped, even as he started digging it
out of his pack. It was the only item of his Water Tribe gear he had brought, the ease of
transporting things on foot outweighing sentimental attachment.

“I can dry it, Sokka.”

Oh yeah. No more hiding the bending. Sokka wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Since the
first days on the boat, Zuko had either been unable to bend, or concealing it. Easy to forget it
existed at all, aside from his natural body heat making for a lovely blanket warmer.

“Right, okay.” He placed it carefully to cover the huge gaping hole and then they crawled in,
stripping off their wet layers, and huddling in the bedroll.

Zuko grabbed the maps and rolled onto his front. He was releasing a wonderful heat that was
drying his hair into fluffy tufts. Sokka was pretty sure his own was a frizzy mess, but the
warmth was well worth it. He shuffled himself around too until their shoulders touched. Light
from their single candle was illuminating the tent dimly, and it almost felt cosy. He turned his
attention to the maps.

“So,” Sokka asked. “Any idea where we are?”

“There’s the river.” Zuko stabbed the parchment with a finger.

“Yes, I can see that, genius. My question is, where are we?”

“Heading east.”

“Can’t help but notice you still didn’t answer my question. And there’s a lot of ‘east’.” Sokka
sighed. “Unless we’re turned around and are pointing in the wrong direction, then tomorrow
we should get out of the woods.” Somewhere. It was unclear exactly where they would
emerge.

“Then we need to head up into the hills.”

They looked more like mountains to Sokka, but he nodded. “It looks like there’s a path that
winds up them, but it’s not very clear or laid out. I’m not looking forward to it.”

“We’ll be fine. It will give us a view down, so we can see if those men are following us, or if
we are heading in the right direction.”

“And then we have to get into the city.”

“Maybe we can climb.”

Almost certainly not. “Hmmm,” Sokka said noncommittally, while he eyed the shape of the
city drawn on the map. It was huge, but he had no idea if it was drawn to scale or was just
made to look big because of its importance.

“You don’t think so?” Zuko sounded scornful, and Sokka bumped their heads together
briefly.

“They are called the impenetrable walls for a reason.”

“My uncle penetrated them.”

“Gross.”

Zuko looked at him in apparent bemusement, and Sokka bit his lip to keep from laughing.

Zuko’s eyes narrowed threateningly. “Anyway, I’m not suggesting we break a hole in them.
I’m saying we go over the top.”

Sokka squinted at him in the low light. “Right. Well, I suggest we talk to people and see if
there is a way in, before we decide to fall from a great height or get shot off the wall like a
bug being swatted.” Zuko would probably manage to climb over what Sokka assumed were
very tall, very sheer walls with few to no handholds.

Sokka, however, would die.

If he could even get up high enough to fall to his death.

Zuko rolled the map back up and stuck it in his bag. “Fine. We can talk to people, but if it
doesn’t bear fruit, we do it my way.”

Sokka snorted and shifted around until he was on his back. He was dry and warm, but the
thrum of anxiety that was in him was heavy and strong. They should really set a watch.
Before they had the Dumpling as an early warning system, now they had nothing. But he
hoped those ferry men wouldn’t be hunting them in this weather. Even in the tent, the wind
was whistling, and the rain was slamming down with vigour. He liked the noise, but you
could hear fuck all above the sound of it.

Zuko stretched, clicking the bones in his neck and shoulders, before snuggling down and
laying his head on Sokka’s shoulder.
It was a position Sokka really enjoyed sleeping in, although he would never admit why. He
liked being held, the solid weight of Zuko’s head and the tight arm wrapped around his body
made him feel secure. He rested his check against the fluffy hair tickling his face. It was
somehow still growing straight up, but it had to start to hang down soon. He wondered if his
friend was going to cut it or grow it long. The answer felt significant, given the importance
that seemed to be put on hair in the Fire Nation. Sokka kind of wanted to offer shaving it like
his own again. The thought of that made some sort of weird, pleasant, shivery sensation run
through him. Perhaps because of what it would mean. But under that, he could admit there
was something possessive in the thought. Which was... probably not something he should
indulge in.

He wrapped his own arm over his friend’s shoulder and closed his eyes, allowing Zuko’s
even breathing to lull him into sleep.

The next morning, they hit the mountains.

“Hills?” Sokka demanded, pointing at the huge craggy cliff face and winding paths. “Hills!”

“Don’t be a baby. We’ve traveled one’s like these before, at least this time we don’t have to
worry about Dumpling losing her footing.”

“Or tossing someone over the edge.”

Zuko looked sad again. Even Sokka missed the fat, cantankerous beast. She was warm and
oddly comforting. Not to mention very convenient to ride on.

He sighed and began trudging towards the scrubby foothills.

“I hate this!” Sokka felt the need to point out as they started the hike up the windy, narrow
path they had chosen to attempt. The map had been staggeringly unclear which of them might
be useful. So they had chosen a route on the basis it was narrow enough that it would give
someone following on a bird or beast a bit more trouble. He would very much only like to
deal with the horrible walk, and not soldiers or bandits or whatever other nonsense the world
decided to throw at them.

He was still grumbling when they camped for the night. It wasn’t raining, so they didn’t
bother covering the hole that ran jaggedly down the back panel of the tent. The ground was
bare and even through the bedroll it was lumpy, so he made a point to lay mostly on top of
Zuko, who seemed unbothered by the extra weight or the stabby ground.

Sokka struggled to sleep. He spent some time worrying about his sister, fretting about his
father heading for battle, and feeling pangs of loss over leaving his friends behind. He hoped
Suki and Shen were both okay. And Dumpling. He hoped they were taking care of each other.
His dreams, when they came, were dark and foreboding.

The next day was exhausting. The lack of sleep felt like it had added weights to his ankles,
and Zuko, as always, set a gruelling pace. Sokka’s feet were aching, the rocky ground was
hard and unyielding, and although it was sunny and bright, the wind was stinging his face as
they moved higher into mountains.

They stopped around early afternoon. Sokka flopped over in a heap, not even taking his pack
off, just draping himself over it like he was swooning.

Zuko dumped his stuff and made his way to the edge, looking down at the windy path they
had trodden. He had been antsy all morning, and Sokka wasn’t sure where he found the
energy. He was clearly still full of it, twitchy and fidgety as he lay down on the rocky outcrop
with their telescope.

Sokka turned his head to look at the path ahead of them. The cliffs were jagged and formed
of yellowish stone. It seemed like there had been a lot of rockfall in the past, although
thankfully not too recently by the looks of the scrubby vegetation that was growing up from
the cracks in the stones.

Sokka’s head snapped back towards Zuko when he heard him suck in a tight, harsh breath.

“What?”

“Sokka.” Zuko sounded afraid, and Sokka could feel the sick sensation of fear hit his own
system in a rush.

He kept low as he made his way over to the lip of the rocks. Far below he could see soldiers
and Fire Nation rhino things. He took the scope to look closer, but even before he focused on
them, he knew what he would see.

Ro.

Just the sight of him flooded Sokka’s body with terror. He could feel it crawling up from his
gut into his throat like bile.

Zuko looked sick. Sokka could recognise his friends’ fear under the anger that usually
formed in response to the emotion, but right now there wasn’t even that covering it up. He
just looked terrified.

Sokka took a few deep breaths. “They have those animals. They can move faster than us.”

“Yeah. On flat ground. But they will have to navigate them up the path. They’ll have to be
slow and careful.” Zuko chewed his lip, hard enough it looked discoloured where his teeth
caught it. “They’re at least a day behind us. If we can keep moving, perhaps we can stay
ahead.”
“I don’t like perhaps, Zu. Not right now. It’s going to be a race, and then if we reach the other
side, if they’re close enough, they will catch us before the city.”

Zuko shuffled back, still on his stomach, and grabbed the map out the bag. “If we judge the
distance we’ve done by what’s left on the map, we will be climbing for days yet. We have to
make up some ground.”

“It’s no good if we drop dead from exhaustion.” Spirits, why could they never catch a break?

“Then what do you suggest?” Zuko snapped, the familiar anger finally making its
appearance.

Sokka had nothing. They were alone. His father was far away, there was no Shen, no Suki.
The fear was so strong his vision was going funny. He tried to force his mind to work through
it, but all he could think of was the flesh melting on his arms. He was close to losing his
breath entirely.

Zuko was looking at the map and staring around them as though he was going to pull the
answer out of the air. “I’ve got a plan,” he said eventually.

Sokka took a breath, then another, trying to make himself focus. “It’s a testament to the level
of my desperation that I’m going to say let’s do it with no hesitation.”

“You don’t know what it is yet.”

“I don’t care.” Sokka got his legs under him and staggered for their bags. “Anything is better
than this. Let’s go. You can tell me all about it while we run like our arses are on fire.”

Zuko reached for his own pack. “I’m not sure running will help in that particular situation.”

“Less snark, more fleeing, Zuko.”

……………….

Katara was tired. Things had not gone well since Iroh had left. The library had given them
airbending records, no recipes, but other things important to Aang. It had been a good
moment. But Wan Shi Tong had… objected to them taking anything, and perhaps they had
not been as subtle in their attempts to get around that as they could have been. It had become
a little messy.

And then when they escaped, Appa was gone.

The awful irony of finding some airbending relics, and losing their own living, breathing one
was lost on none of them, and Aang was taking it hard.
The road to Ba Sing Se had not been easy either, and Katara had no idea how far they still
had to travel. From the rumours they were hearing, she wasn’t even sure they could get into
the city at this rate.

Even worse, there were soldiers everywhere, patrolling the roads and rounding up refugees.
People they met told them those who were found were taken away, but Katara knew they
didn’t always bother. They had learned to avoid areas with the smell of death or the sound of
flies buzzing horrible and busy in the morning sun.

The first few times she had braved it, determined to see if there were survivors, someone she
could help, even though Toph had told her it was pointless. She didn’t think she would ever
be able to wash the things she had seen from her mind’s eye, or rid herself of the smell. Now,
she trusted Toph’s feet to tell them if there were any living among the dead.

There never were.

She was so angry. She was quite ready to blast the next Fire Nation soldier right in the face
with her water. Drown them in the rivers or lakes. Or just hit them with her fists until they
were bloody.

But she needed to keep it together for the others. Aang was grieving, and there was
something different in his sorrow this time. His own anger was far closer to the surface than
she had ever seen it. While this was healthy, it was also concerning. Most people when they
lost their temper couldn’t just level a city. Aang had that potential.

So while his rage was justified, he had to keep it manageable, and she had to push aside her
own feelings and help him.

It was hard though, because she burned with the fury, stoked by the ever present grief that felt
like it was surrounding her, welling up inside.

And on top of that, was frustration; it felt like they were just travelling in circles, never
getting any closer to their goal. She didn’t even know if they were headed in the right
direction. Their map was great for air travel, not so much when all you could see were rocks
and tree stumps.

There was fear, too. The enemy was always there, and some refugees with nothing left and
nowhere safe to go had turned to banditry. Not all the dead were killed by the soldiers.

They had been chased out of one campsite by the presence of Fire Nation troops in the
mountains. Katara didn’t think they had been spotted, but the men had passed so close they
couldn’t risk it. They had hidden behind rocks brought out of the earth by Toph as the men
marched by.

They had left the road and travelled through the rough scrub, before finding their current
campsite, situated between the overhang of a small rocky outcrop and the lip of one of the
huge craggy cliffs, plunging deep into the canyon below. There was enough space between
the camp and the edge to manoeuvre in a fight, but it offered a certain amount of protection
as they only had to guard in the one direction.
Toph had sat herself down like a tiny, annoyed boulder, but had agreed to watch the water
they were boiling for soup while Katara dragged Aang out to find food.

They had meat. A skinny groundhog looking thing that Toph had taken down earlier in the
day. Katara could hunt, of course, although not as well as Sokka had been able to, but they
had discovered Toph was their secret weapon for catching small animals. Using her abilities
to sense movement and then striking unerringly with hard flung stones to stun. Then Katara
would finish it off with a knife. But food for Aang was proving more difficult in the scrubby
hills and mountains. Back in the forest, they had plenty of things to forage; nuts and fruit and
some tubas dug from the earth. Out here, they struggled to find what they needed to provide
him with the energy he burned in practice. They only had a small amount of dried rice left,
and they needed something to bulk it out for him.

With Appa, they could have flown to a town or village, or spotted likely places for
appropriate vegetation. Without him, they were limited. And hunger and anxiety about the
food they had left was making them all a little cranky.

“What about these?” She asked, crouching next to a bush that had some sullen looking red
berries still clinging to the branches. They seemed well past their season, but would do,
assuming they were safe.

“No,” Aang said. “Those are maka’ole berries. Poisonous.”

Katara sighed and rose back to her feet. She didn’t hate the Earth Kingdom, there was lots of
beauty and strange, wonderful things to find, but sometimes the variety sucked.

Aang was looking morose, but his face brightened a little as they scrambled over the next
rocky outcrop. “Look!” He pointed at some ugly little green plants sticking out from the
scrub and Katara felt relief wash over her–these she recognised: dumpling weed.

There was enough for two, maybe three meals, and she felt both their moods lift a little at the
promise of decent food.

But the feeling faded as they walked. She missed Iroh, his knowledge, quiet wisdom and
solid presence. Odd to have become so attached to an enemy, to feel his loss so keenly.
Although he had been almost as bad as the rest of them at finding edible plants, he had made
her feel more secure, somehow.

“Ash and bone, but I hate these mountains!” a voice said from around the next bend.

Katara and Aang glanced at each other in slight panic. They couldn’t afford another fight, not
while they had their hands full of precious food. Hiding spots were few and far between, so
they backtracked as quickly as they could and threw themselves behind the only available
rock big enough to shelter them from watching eyes. If the approaching men stuck to the
path, they would be okay.

Aang had landed mostly on top of her, his sharp hip bones digging into her thigh painfully.
Despite the discomfort, they lay quiet as the clank and rustle of armoured soldiers became
louder.
“I mean, why would we need to go this far out?” A man’s voice said. “Escaped prisoners
should have run the other way. How would they have even crossed the river?”

“Shush! Izuru, you know we’re not allowed to talk about what happened at East Lake.”

The first man scoffed. “And yet they send us to scour the mountains for them.”

“If I was on the run, I would head to Ba Sing Se too.”

“The river would put me off.” The man made an unhappy noise. “I hate this. I just… the
order to kill not capture is a bit… they’re not soldiers.”

“Shut up, Izuru, unless you want to join them back at East Lake. Higher ups don’t want word
getting out. We kill any refugees we can find, from the prison or not, just in case. Don’t give
me that look.” The man sighed as their voices began to fade. “We’re just doing clean up.
They’ve sent out elite teams to track them down. And they’ll rid these mountains from these
pathetic Earth dregs at the same time.”

“I heard they lost commander Wei.”

“Shut up, Izuru! They’ll have your head for that talk.”

The sound of the soldiers grew fainter, and Aang rolled over slightly to look at her
questioningly. Katara stretched out her legs and winced at the tight feeling.

“That doesn’t sound great,” Aang said.

“No. I wonder what happened at East Lake? I don’t even know what that is, but it sounds like
people escaped from a Fire Nation prison?”

Aang stood and brushed off his pants. “It’s one of the two big lakes.” He pointed in the
general direction the river probably was. They had seen it yesterday, a thin, silvery, glittering
rope in the distance. It felt like an age since they had crossed it into this stupid wilderness.

“I don’t like the sound of elite teams,” she said. Not to mention the order to kill the refugees
on the off chance they were fleeing this East Lake place. It sounded like even some of the
soldiers weren’t happy with that.

Aang’s mouth turned down. When they had Appa, escaping was easy. Now everything was
different, more frightening, to have to rely on hiding and outrunning on their own tired feet.

“Perhaps this isn’t the best area to stop if these teams are tracking people through the
mountains. Let’s keep away from the paths and get back to Toph.”

Katara’s heart began to flutter with anxiety as they approached the steep incline that led to
their hidden camp. Toph was crouched at the top, rather than with their gear. She looked like
she was hiding from view the wrong way. From the cliff edge.

She tuned as they approached and raised a finger to her lips. “Where were you?” She hissed
when they were closer.
“Hiding from soldiers,” Katara snapped back, keeping her voice as low as possible.

“Well, there’s more coming. I think they’re trying to surround us. Sneak up from below.”

“That’s quite a climb,” Aang said, doubtfully. “I could do it, but soldiers in armour might
have more trouble.”

“Remember the elite teams? If they picked up our tracks, if they know we can bend, then they
might try to take us by surprise, even if they don’t know about Aang.”

“Elite teams?” Toph asked. She looked a little too enthused at the prospect.

Katara ignored her and glanced at Aang. They probably should try to persuade him to cover
the arrows again. If word got out the Avatar was staggering around these mountains, it
wouldn’t just be one team tracking them by accident, it would be the whole stinking army.

“I don’t think they have heavy armour,” Toph said, one hand on the ground along with her
widely planted feet. “But if they are elite, they may not use it. More flexibility, more able to
hide in the population.” She turned her head back towards the cliff edge below them. “There
was always talk of assassins back home. People that snuck in and out of Noblemen’s homes,
the ones who refused to collaborate with the Fire Nation or pay taxes.”

“So what do we do?” Katara asked. “They have to be tracking us directly if they are taking
this much trouble.” Perhaps it was too late to hide the presence of the Avatar.

“We could just blast them off the cliff,” Toph offered.

“It might give us away,” Aang’s voice sounded flat.

Yeah, it might, but it might also give them time to escape. Especially if there were more
coming from the other direction.

“I could make it look like an accident,” Toph said with a shrug.

Katara looked at Aang when he didn’t immediately respond with a horrified denial or another
excuse. That was… upsetting. Katara didn’t think for a moment he would be okay with them
doing that, or that he wouldn’t stop them if they decided killing was the best course of action,
but the level of his anger was so high he clearly felt like he wanted to just do it.

Of course, if they did, his devastation would be twice as bad, for the loss of life, and for
failing to say anything to prevent it. Katara slid her eyes to Toph. The other girl was
concentrating hard, feeling down through the rock. They were far enough away from the cliff
face that it wasn’t easy, and they were perched on the ridge of a ten foot, steep slope leading
down to the flat ground before the lip of the canyon. Toph didn’t press for her suggestion, and
Katara realised she must have come to the same conclusions, otherwise she would have just
knocked the soldiers off the cliff already.

Well, that and the fact she felt she could take them in a fight. And she probably could, she
was literally in her element up here in the mountains. Katara was pretty confident, too. There
may not be any large water sources, but her bending water would be more than enough.
 Honestly, she wanted the fight. She felt a mix of such deep, horrible exhaustion and fury. The
men earlier just talking about murdering innocent, desperate people… A fight would at least
let her express that anger a little.

“We wait for them to climb up. When we’re sure they are all at the top, we act,” she said.
“We need to stop them moving or shouting. Without killing them,” she added, just in case her
assessment of Toph’s conclusions was wrong.

Aang’s shoulders relaxed, just a little.

“Can you feel them, Twinkle Toes?” Toph asked.

“I don’t think this is the time for practise,” Aang said tartly. But at her annoyed look he
sighed gustily and spread his hands on the ground, feeling carefully. “I think so?”

“You see? It’s always time for training,” Toph said in her most obnoxious teacher voice. Then
her head swivelled back towards the canyon. “First one’s coming up.”

A hand reached up from the cliff edge, pale and dirty, scrabbling for a hold and then shaking
with excursion as the soldier pulled himself upwards. It was quickly followed by a second
hand, an elbow, and then a head of short black hair covered in the yellow dust from the rocks.

Katara heard Aang’s sharp intake of breath even before her brain could really comprehend
what she was seeing.

“What?” Toph said, voice low and excited. “What is it?”

“Zuko,” Katara said, her voice conveying her complete disbelief.

Chapter End Notes

Surprise? 😬
Next Chapter: Katara finally gets something good in her life, even though it does come
with a side helping of trouble and strife. And Zhao lets the fox into the henhouse.
 Chapter 26
Chapter Summary

“I’m not disgruntled!” Zuko yelled.

Chapter Notes

Thank you for all the wonderful comments and keyboard smashes last chapter, they
made a bumpy start to the new year a little easier! <3

Warnings: Brief, vague, but crude thoughts about past non-con and sex/marriage with a
minor

Many thanks to my beta burkesl17, who has managed to wrangle my dyslexic nonsense.
All mistakes are my own.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

“Iroh’s Zuko?” Toph asked, as Zuko hauled himself shakily over the edge of the canyon. He
looked exhausted, even from this distance. He had swords and a heavy looking pack strapped
to his back and his dark Earth Kingdom clothes were coated in yellowish dust.

“Yeah,” Katara said faintly. Apparently less dead than previously thought.

“Are you sure?”

“He has a distinctive face. Big burn scar.” She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Her
heart was hammering against her ribs so loud she half expected him to hear it.

They watched Zuko slide out of his pack and sprawl on the ground, limbs limp and spread
out. His chest was rising and falling hard, as he stared up at the clouds. Even for him, that
climb must have been extremely perilous and physically exhausting.

As they watched, he flopped one arm back towards the cliff edge, knuckles hitting the dirt,
and fingers curled loosely. “I won. Rock of victory. Give it,” he rasped. His voice made the
little hairs stand up on the back of her neck. How had he managed to follow them? How was
he even alive? She was mostly glad he wasn’t dead, but somehow he was still tracking them?
She did kind of understand his motivation now, but it was still both unbelievable and
enraging. Why him? Why did the bad people live, when the good died, and stayed dead?
There was some distressed squeaking from another person, clearly still climbing the rocks.
Zuko’s face screwed up, and he groaned before he rolled towards the edge again, reaching
down. All his muscles bunched as he pulled the second soldier up. There was the sound of
falling stones, some grunting from both of them, but he heaved the other guy over the edge,
both flopping to the ground in a heap, Zuko on his back, his companion face down on his
chest. They were filthy and clearly worn out from the climb.

Katara glanced at Aang. He looked weirdly happy to see their nemesis, and she sighed
internally. This was going to be complicated. Zuko was closer to their camp than they were,
and if they wanted their stuff, they were going to have to fight for it.

Zuko raised his arm and sloppily slapped his companion on the back of the head. “Rock of
victory,” he muttered again. His voice sounded even more awful than she remembered it.
Probably due to the dust they must have been breathing. His friend muttered something
unintelligible into Zuko’s shirt. She could see the prince’s face scrunch into an angry scowl.

“Don’t start that again. Having longer legs than you does not count as cheating! I won. Give
me the rock.”

Second guy grumbled and dug around in his clothes for a moment. It seemed like his limbs
were too tired to move properly and it took him a while to find what he was looking for. He
smacked whatever it was into Zuko’s face. The prince didn’t react angrily to the disrespect,
just reached up to take whatever it was, something like a pleased smirk on his lips.

“Are you sure you’re sure?” Toph whispered.

“Yes, I’m certain,” Katara snarled quietly. They should probably surprise him while he was
exhausted from his climb, get Toph to trap him in the earth and grab their stuff and run while
they could.

The guy currently lying on top of Zuko groaned dramatically. “Whenever I agree to your
plans, please punch me. I need to remember they are always insane.” The sound of his voice
made Katara feel dizzy for a moment, and her heart was suddenly racing, her mouth dryer
than the desert had been.

“It worked,” Zuko said without venom. “So shut up.”

“We nearly died, like, ten times!” The guy rolled over onto his back, his head resting on
Zuko’s shoulder. “Every plan that makes its way into your thick skull is insane! I have to be
reminded. Please punch me next time.”

Sokka. It felt for a moment like time had stopped. Like her vision was fading in and out. She
couldn’t tear her eyes away.

“I can punch you now, if you like,” Zuko offered. Katara heard his voice like it was through
water, muffled and resonating strangely.

“No, retrospective punching won’t work.”

“We could try.”

“No.”

“What?” Toph said, breaking past the dizziness that was spinning through her whole body.
“Both your heartbeats are going crazy. What’s happening?” She sounded excited and
frustrated, Katara thought distantly.

She couldn’t stop staring at her brother’s face. His hair was shorter and loose, plastered to his
forehead with sweat and yellow dirt. But it was unmistakably him.

“It’s Sokka,” Aang said with hushed reverence, like just speaking his name might make him
disappear.

Toph shifted her blank gaze in Katara’s direction. “Your brother? Is this come back from the
dead day or something?”

They could see him too. She wasn’t imagining it. It wasn’t some sort of hallucination brought
on by anger and grief. He was there. Telling Zuko off for having long legs again. Which
made little sense, but none of this did. He had been dead. Both of them had, and now they
were alive.

She was up and moving without thought, hurling herself down the steep slope. “Sokka!”

She felt herself trip and tumble, and felt the strong gust of air that righted her so she stayed
on her feet as she ran and slid down the slope. “Sokka!”

He raised his head and looked at her, familiar blue eyes wide with shock, and then he was
scrambling to his feet and running too. They met with a thump as she threw her arms around
him and felt him catch her in turn. He was solid, alive, not an illusion. She buried her face in
his neck and breathed. She could feel his heartbeat, the warmth of his skin. It felt like a
dream, but with the edge of a nightmare still clinging to the shadows. She was afraid to speak
in case it broke the spell.

“Katara,” he said. “Spirits, I missed you.” His arms were tight to the point of hurting, holding
her so powerfully. She held on and just breathed.

There was some muttering, and a weight settled against her, firm and warm. “Sokka,” Aang
said from somewhere close to her ear. She blinked back tears and allowed herself the smile
that was trying to work its way out through the shock. Aang had clearly held out as long as he
could bear before joining them. His voice was wet with emotion, but there was such joy in it.

And then a smaller thump hit her back; Momo giving his own welcome, chittering in
excitement.

“Hey, Aang, I missed you, too. And Momo,” Sokka muttered into her hair. “Fuck...er, I mean
shi.. spirits, I missed you both so much.” He pushed her back so he could look at her. She
stared up at him. His dirty face had tear tracks on his cheeks and he was grinning at her. He
seemed a little taller, more solid than he had been.
“You’re alive,” she managed. “You’re alive.”

“And in the flesh.” He smiled, but there was something off about it, something shadowed.
Like those nightmare tendrils had him, too.

“Well, I’m glad we didn’t blast them off the rocks,” Toph said, conversationally.

“Er, yeah,” Sokka said, turning a little so he could see her. “I’m glad you didn’t do that, too.
Blast us off the rocks?” He shuddered.

Toph grinned, a little on the evil side. “This family reunion has really warmed my heart,” she
said. “But are we forgetting the other little problem?” She jerked her thumb back towards the
canyon, and Katara suddenly remembered Zuko. She reluctantly stepped away from Sokka so
she could get a good line of sight on their ‘little problem’.

He looked furious. Enraged and ready to start spitting fire. Her hand went to her water skin
almost automatically.

“Oh, shit,” Sokka said, also turning to look at the other boy, standing stiff and wrathful on the
lip of the cliff.

Katara wondered if anyone would object if she gave him a little nudge over the edge.
Probably.

Aang stepped back too. He also looked cautious, but still kind of happy. “Hi, Zuko,” he said.

Zuko didn’t answer, he remained rigid and furious. Strangely, although everyone else was
equally tense and uncertain, Toph looked completely calm. Then again, she only knew him
from Uncle’s occasional stories and their own retelling of some things he had done to them,
which had been slightly toned down to avoid making the old man sad.

“How did you do it?” Sokka asked him. Zuko’s eyes flicked away from Aang to meet his.
“How?”

“How what?” Zuko snarled.

“Even when we weren’t looking for the Avatar, you managed to find him, like some sort of
demented homing hawk.”

“I didn’t mean to!” Zuko snapped. A waft of smoke escaped from his mouth. He looked like
he was moments from attacking. Katara readied her stance. She didn’t understand what was
going on, but the expression on his face was a familiar one.

“Whoa there, buddy,” Sokka said, holding out a hand like he was trying to gentle a wild
beast. “Hang on,” he said to her and Aang. He hefted Momo under one arm like a small
squirmy sack of grain. “Give me a moment.” He began to walk back towards the angry
firebender, like he had no fear of him at all.

Logicically, it was clear that they had been travelling together, and the likelihood was they
had some sort of truce. But it wasn’t above the bounds of possibility that the prince had some
hold over Sokka.

She made to follow, but Aang held out a hand. “Give him a second, Katara,” he said. “Let’s
not kick things off if we don’t need to.”

She had just got her brother back, and the possibility of losing him again was tight in her gut.
But she held back with an effort and watched as Sokka caught Zuko by the shoulder and
began talking to him in a voice too low to overhear. Zuko’s posture didn’t relax, and Katara
couldn’t tear her eyes away. They were so close to the edge. She was suddenly terrified for
her brother; the feelings swelling like the grief had, confused and desperate for a place to
break free.

“Calm down, Sugar Queen. They’re not going to fight,” Toph said, as tranquil as a boulder in
a storm.

“He looks like he might,” Aang said, a little regretful.

“Nah. He won’t.”

“You don’t know him, and you can’t see his face,” Katara pointed out. “He looks furious.”

Aang nodded, squinting at the two of them as they whispered. “He looks like he does before
he fights. Angry and full of energy.” Aang looked full of energy too, half excited, half
anxious.

“He’s scared, not angry,” Toph said.

“Scared?” Katara said incredulously. “Of us? He’s never, ever been scared to challenge us,
even in the most ridiculous no-win circumstances. Are you seriously telling me-”

“I don’t know why. Only that he is,” Toph interrupted. Her voice as cool and calm as her
body. “I can feel the difference, Katara. I know what I’m talking about.”

Katara scoffed. He didn’t look scared; he looked angry.

The whispers between the boys stopped. Zuko stepped back a pace, then weirdly, he bowed
to Sokka, making the sign of the flame with his hands. He said something, still too low to
hear. Sokka nodded. He plucked Momo off his shoulder and handed him to the prince, who
looked momentarily baffled.

Momo objected with an ear-piercing screech, but settled when Zuko cradled him to his chest.
The little traitor was just weak for firebender warmth. Sokka pointed up to where their camp
was visible, and with obvious reluctance, Zuko began to trudge his way towards it, Momo
under one arm and his bags heaved up in the other.

Sokka turned back to them, giving them a brief grin as he joined them. “Well, this is a bit of
an awkward situation,” he said.

“Unexpected, but good.” Aang sounded as happy as Katara had heard him since Appa.
“So,” Sokka said, then paused and looked at Toph. “Hi, you’re new.”

“I’m Toph, the greatest earthbender in the world,” Toph said modestly.

“Cool. I’m Sokka, the greatest Zuko whisper in the world.” He glanced at Katara. “He’s fine,
relax. He is in charge of a cute fluffy animal, he won’t risk setting him on fire, no matter how
wound up he is.”

Katara held her tongue. She still wasn’t sure what the situation was between them, or what
would happen now. She couldn’t stop looking at Sokka. She was worrying about the Zuko
situation, but it was like the anxiety was fluttering around her like butterflies. Her focus kept
being drawn back to her brother.

“So,” Toph asked, “Now what? We have a rogue, undead, firebending prince cuddling our
flying rat-”

“Hey!” Aang put in, failing to even sound offended through the grin that was threatening to
split his face in two.

“And,” Toph continued, ignoring him. “I’m thinking this might be a problem, what with his
Avatar hunting history?” She raised an eyebrow at Katara.

“Yeah,” Sokka said. “About that.” He looked upset, Katara could see it in the stress around
his eyes, the way his mouth was pulled in a little tight. He scrubbed a hand through this loose
hair. “Look. I know it’s weird and risky to keep him around. But we’ve been through some
stuff. I owe him, and I...” There was something grim and not quite right in his expression, and
it made Katara shiver. Sokka wet his lips, making a face when he got a mouthful of rock dust.
“It’s up to you if you want to take that risk. He will promise to do no harm to you until we get
to Ba Sing Se, which is where I need to go.”

“It’s where we’re going too,” Aang said, and Sokka nodded, like that made sense.

“Why’d you need to go there?” Katara asked.

Sokka lowered his voice when he spoke. “I need to see the Earth King. The Fire Nation have
made a weapon to get through the walls. I have the plans for it.”

“And Zuko doesn’t know?”

“Not yet. I’m going to tell him, though, soon.”

“You don’t trust him.” There was something a little too accusatory in her own voice and
Katara did her best to rein it in.

“I do, I do, it’s just complicated.” He grimaced. “Look, I’m not going to tell you what to do.
If you want to leave him, then…” He trailed off, eyes going back towards where Zuko had
gone. She could see him sitting awkwardly with Momo in his lap. She hoped Sokka was right
about the lemur being safe.
“How can we take him with us?” she asked. “Aang will be in danger, and we can’t watch him
all the time.”

“Um,” Aang said.

She ignored him and any objection he might make. “It seems like a huge risk.”

Sokka nodded, but then squared his shoulders. “He will give his word to do us no harm and
to keep us out of the way of the Fire Nation until we get to the city. We can renegotiate from
there. But if he gives his word, and he will, then I will vouch for him. One hundred percent.”
He looked like he was fighting a battle, and she didn’t even know who the fighters were. “But
the choice is yours,” he finished resolutely.

Katara examined his face, drinking in his features. He looked tense, troubled.

“I’m good with him staying,” Toph said. “There are three of us and only one of him. If he
causes problems, we can deal with it.”

“Four of us,” Sokka pointed out.

“Can you bend?”

“No, but-”

“Like I said.”

Sokka made a stupid, outraged face. It was so familiar it hurt Katara’s heart, but it also
looked kind of forced, like he was putting it on. His focus was on her and Aang, thrumming
with anxiety. She could see it through his whole body. She didn’t know which way he wanted
them to choose. Did he want Zuko to come with them? Or did the prince have something on
him that was keeping them together? Was he arguing under duress in some way?

“If he swears, then I’m okay with it!” Aang seemed excited with the prospect, thrilled by
being joined by their enemy. Sometimes she wanted to shake him, even though it was
uplifting to see him happy again.

“What do you want, Sokka?” she asked.

“You have to choose. I want...” He closed his eyes. “I want him with me. Us. But if you’re
not happy…it has to be your choice, not mine.” He shrugged awkwardly, his green Earth
Kingdom style tunic shifting and sending drying dirt cascading down his front. “He’s no
danger at the moment. Despite what that looked like earlier. It was a shock, that’s all. He
doesn’t react well to surprises.”

“You trust his word?”

“With my life. With all our lives,” Sokka said without hesitation.

She thought about it carefully. Uncle’s stories of his nephew’s life had given her perspective.
She didn’t, couldn’t, trust him. But he had the second chance that she had briefly wished for
him. They all had second chances, with Sokka here, living and breathing. “Okay. If he
swears. But he’s on thin ice. If he steps wrong, I reserve the right to rescind my invitation to
join us.”

“That’s fair.” Aang nodded, practically beaming.

Sokka wavered on his feet for a moment, and for one horrifying second, Katara thought she
had made the wrong choice, that he had wanted them to save him from whatever was holding
them together. Sokka closed his eyes and breathed deeply through his nose while they
watched him with concern.

“Thank you,” he said after a long pause. “I don’t know what I would have done if you had
chosen different. I wouldn’t have left you, but… But it would have been...” He shook his
head. “He’ll swear. His word will hold.”

Zuko stood as they walked up to the camp, and Katara examined him closely. His hair was
short and covered his whole head, which was a vast improvement. He looked smaller than he
had, although that was probably because he wasn’t wearing armour or bulky winter clothes.
His gaze was fixed on Sokka as they approached. He still looked angry, but under it she
thought perhaps she could see the nerves that matched her brothers.

“It’s cool,” Sokka told him. Which seemed a little understated, given the circumstances.
“Will you swear to do no harm to us or the Avatar and to protect us from our enemies,
including the Fire Nation, until we reach Ba Sing Se?” Sokka nodded encouragingly at him,
like he was trying to coax a small child into something.

Zuko looked at them each in turn. Then he bowed to Aang, making the sign of the flame. “I
swear to do you and your companions no harm, and to protect and defend you from your
enemies, including those from my own nation.” he said. “Until Ba Sing Se, at which time we
can discuss things further.”

“And no kidnapping,” Katara added pointedly.

Zuko scowled at her. “And no kidnaping,” he snarled.

“And no setting our stuff on fire,” Toph said. She was grinning and clearly not taking this
seriously at all.

Zuko huffed. “Why would I set your things on fire?”

“Well, you have before,” Aang pointed out

“Not on purpose!”

“Is the accidental setting of fires covered in the promise?” Toph asked.

Sokka sighed loudly. “Guys, please stop poking the angry, disgruntled firebender.”
“I’m not disgruntled!” Zuko yelled.

“Keep your voice down. Let’s not ruin it by bringing roaming soldiers down on us.” Sokka
looked ruefully affectionate. It was a strange expression to see being directed at Zuko.
Stranger coming from a dead man. Katara felt another wave of unreality hit her. It was
something between euphoria and fear.

“So, Sparky,” Toph said, clearly not taking Sokka’s advice. “How come you’re not dead?
Everyone seemed pretty sure you were. Your uncle was pretty broken up about it.”

Zuko’s eyes went wide. “My uncle? When did you meet my uncle?”

Toph shrugged and sat herself down close to the small fire that was still just about burning.
“He was here when I arrived.”

“Arrived where?” Zuko asked faintly. “When?”

“We last saw him a few weeks ago. He was travelling with us, since the North Pole. But then
he left to do...something,” Aang said.

“He’s alive?” Zuko wobbled like his knees were about to give way.

Sokka reached over and caught him, one hand on his shoulder. Zuko bent into him, pushing
his face into her brother’s chest, breathing hard. He looked completely overcome with
emotion, like he might cry or pass out. Katara had no doubt the reaction was genuine. In this
at least, she felt confident, and she felt herself relax a little. His love for his uncle was real
and not something Iroh had just hoped for. It made him seem more human, a little more
Uncle’s nephew and a little less Fire Prince.

Zuko sat down hard, drawing his knees up and resting his forehead against them. Sokka
squatted next to him, a hand on his back.

“Where did he go?” Zuko asked, muffled.

Aang sat himself comfortably, taking possession of Momo, who was watching with his wide
unblinking eyes, ears twitched forward. Aang seemed reluctant to tell him, probably not
wanting to potentially rile him up again.

Katara took a moment before seating herself. She wasn’t comfortable with Zuko here, even
though he was currently no threat and just looked sad and stressed and dirty. She was still
reeling over the fact she was sitting around the fire with her brother. She didn’t think she had
processed it at all. Everything else had taken on the shade of a dream. She wanted to touch
him again. And possibly to punch him. She needed to know what had happened, where he’d
been. How he and Zuko had ended up travelling together.

“He... um, went to see your sister, Azula,” Aang said, breaking Katara from her thoughts
before they could spiral off into anger. She didn’t know why she felt aggravated, she
shouldn’t. But she did. It was lurking there, under the joy.
“What!” Zuko really did have a very loud voice. “Why? Where? The Fire Nation?” He
looked like he was about to leap to his feet and hare off to find him. “He was declared a
traitor! They’ll have him killed!”

Aang held up his hands placatingly and eyed the fire, which was roaring despite the meagre
foliage that was keeping it alive. “He thought she was in danger, so he went to see if he could
help.”

“In danger? From what?” Zuko looked extremely doubtful, a sentiment Katara reluctantly
shared.

“Your father,” Aang said. “I don’t think she is in the Fire Nation. She was, um… chasing us.”

“Seriously?” Sokka asked. “Is Avatar hunting just a family pass time for you people?”

Zuko scoffed quietly, then lay his head back on his knees, apparently overcome again. “He
was well? Before that?”

“He was. He missed you.”

“He thinks I’m dead?”

“We all did.” Katara leaned forward and poked at the fire. Now he had calmed down, the
flame had returned to normal, but it had burned the sticks they had. Finding wood was a pain
up here, and she scowled at him before adding another precious few branches. “Control your
bending,” she told him sharply.

He raised his head and glared, furious, ugly and fierce.

“So, back to the being undead part?” Toph said.

Zuko turned his glare on her, which obviously wasn’t going to work. She stared back at him
and raised an eyebrow. “Who are you?” he asked.

“Toph. Excellent earthbending teacher.”

Zuko grunted. He still looked like he was seconds away from running, just as soon as he
could get his legs under him without falling over.

Sokka sat down beside him, one knee close enough to poke Zuko in the thigh. “Buddy, calm
down. There’s nothing to be done tonight. Tomorrow we can decide on a plan. You don’t
know where he’s gone if he’s not headed back to the Fire Nation. Acting without thinking
will fu… screw us all over.”

Sokka’s vocabulary had clearly suffered in their absence, but he was at least trying to control
it in the face of the younger members of their group. Katara’s own vocabulary was growing
too, and she sort of hoped he let slip some nasty cusses she could add to it.

Toph cleared her throat, bringing them back to the question she had asked. Annoying, as
always.
“Not undead,” Sokka said, voice very casual. There was a tension in the two of them as he
spoke, and Katara didn’t like it. Her brother looked at her and smiled. It didn’t reach his eyes.
“I was captured at the North Pole. We both were, along with other men from the raid.”

It was getting dark. The moon was clear in the sky, although the last of the daylight was still
clinging to the edge of the mountains, dyeing them orange and pink as the sun set. It was
beautiful, almost serene, but Katara felt anything but, her skin prickled at the expression on
his face. Not the one he was trying to wear, but the one underneath.

“What happened?” Aang asked. “Who captured you? Was it Zhao?”

“Yeah. He had the other men killed. He kept us. He wanted to ransom me back to dad.”
Katara blinked at him in surprise, that wasn’t what she thought he was going to say. Sokka
shifted a little, uncomfortable. “He was supposed to execute Zuko, but he didn’t,” he said.

“Why?” Aang asked. “Not that I’m not glad, but it seems like an odd thing to do. I didn’t
think he liked you very much.”

Zuko grunted, glaring into the fire, his legs still drawn up. “Yeah. He doesn’t.”

“So…?” Aang prompted, his face earnest and his body leaning towards them eagerly.

“He just didn’t, okay? He had his reasons, stupid ones. Just leave it at that, Avatar.”

“Aang, not Avatar,” Katara told him sternly. His attitude was going to get old fast, she could
feel it.

Aang held up his hands and turned back to Sokka, who looked like he was trying and failing
to appear relaxed. Her brother sighed. “He held us for about a month, and during that time,
we decided that our best shot would be to work together to escape. And we did. Eventually.
Then we started running. They followed us.”

“They’re still following,” Zuko said. Then he blinked a few times. “Where’s the bison?”

And with that, the mood plummeted from awkward and tense right back down to awkward,
tense and miserable

“He got stolen,” Aang said.

“Stolen?” Sokka asked, aghast. “How?”

“How do you lose a ten ton bison!” Zuko burst out. He seemed furious about it, and he had
no right to be.

“Do not start,” Katara warned him. “You have no idea what we’ve been through. You don’t
get to throw around stupid accusations about things you don’t get!” The fire was roaring
again, another thing that was going to get old fast.

“It’s alright, Katara,” Aang said, but his face had fallen. She hated that sadness.
“It’s not.”

Zuko looked sullen. But he kept his mouth shut, other than to look at Sokka with some sort of
meaningful glare.

Sokka rubbed his face, smearing dirt and dust around like war paint. “You’re heading to Ba
Sing Se to get him back?” He guessed.

“Yeah. We think that’s where he was taken,” Aang said miserably.

“Spirits. We never have any luck,” Sokka sighed.

“I never have any luck,” Zuko murmured. “You’re collateral damage.”

“Look, Zu, if there’s anything that can go wrong and smack me in the face at any given time,
it will. You don’t have a monopoly on shitty luck.” He nudged him, almost playfully.
“Anyway, your bad luck always comes with a weird slice of good. You got shot in the head,
yeah, but instead of being brained or drowning in the river like a normal person, you just had
a nasty cut and a concussion. That’s good luck.”

Zuko reached up and touched the new red scar that ran up his temple towards his burnt ear. It
looked like an almost unconscious gesture.

“You got shot in the head again?” Aang said.

Katara chose to ignore that. There were more important things to know. “How did you escape
from Zhao? Have you been running this whole time?”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” Zuko said, snarling with his whole face, which was
quite spectacularly ugly with his scar.

“Well tough. We need to know what happened so we can work out what to do.”

“You need to know jack shit, Water Tribe.”

Sokka punched him on the shoulder, not lightly. “Don’t talk to my sister like that. It’s been a
rough day, but that’s no excuse for backsliding.”

Katara resisted sticking her tongue out, but it was a close thing.

“If you don’t want to talk, go to bed.” Sokka pointed vaguely towards the rock face behind
them.

For a second, Katara thought Zuko was going to incinerate her brother. The expression on his
face showed he really wanted to. But instead he rose stiffly to his feet and grabbed the bag
with their tent strapped to it, stalking towards the spot Sokka had indicated, set away from
Katara and Aang’s tent. Every movement was angry. But he was doing what he was told.
Perhaps Sokka was a Zuko whisper.
“You are really playing with fire there,” Toph said with a grin. “Having a firebender back on
the team opens the way to so many puns.”

Like she hadn’t already used every single one and then some on Iroh.

Sokka gave her a look, which she clearly couldn’t see. “Believe me, I have left no pun
unturned, no fiery comment unsaid.” He puffed his chest out.

“I’m sure he can hear them again. And mine will be far superior.”

“I doubt that.”

“Guys,” Katara broke in before they could get into a fiery pun-off. They all paused to watch
Zuko for a moment. He was swearing colourfully at the tent that he had just about managed
to put together. It had a big hole in it.

“Turn it around,” Sokka called. “So our fantastic Fire Nation designed air flow system
doesn’t let too much wind in if it gets cold overnight.”

“Your what now?” Toph asked.

“There’s a hole in the tent. A big one,” Katara said. Behind them, Zuko kicked it, making it
wobble alarmingly.

“Wow, that boy is highly strung.”

“Yeah. I would say he’s not usually this bad, but he frequently is. You get used to it.” Sokka
looked unbothered by the mauling his tent was receiving. “And the hole is fine when it’s not
raining. I don’t think he could really see how bad it was when we chose it, and that makes
him mad.”

“Sokka,” Katara broke in. “Please, tell me what happened to you, how you ended up here.”
She wanted to say, I thought you were dead! I have to know! But she couldn’t bring herself to
utter the words.

Sokka shrugged. “What we said. Zhao captured us. He kept us and we escaped. We ran into
dad-”

“Dad! You saw him?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s okay?”

“Yeah, he’s good. They’re heading to Ba Sing Se by river. Slowly, with the Earth army.”

“It must have been good to see him?” There had been something odd in his voice, reluctance
maybe, a lack of enthusiasm and some emotion she couldn’t place. It didn’t feel right.
“It was. He missed you a lot. He...” Sokka trailed off. “It was very good to see him. Bato was
there too, recovered. They, um, were a bit suspicious of Zuko. We lied about who he was to
keep him safe from the Earth army guys. Lying is not one of his strong suits, but he did
alright.”

The idea of her father meeting Zuko, maybe eating dinner with him, talking to him, was just
so weird. And Sokka lying about him to their dad was profoundly uncomfortable.

“There was this captain in the Earth camp that helped us too. He and Zuko got close, as
strange as that sounds. I think it made a real difference to him.”

Another thing that was hard to imagine.

“That’s how it’s supposed to be,” Aang said. “People on the same side being friends and
helping each other, even though they’re from different nations.”

Sokka stared into the fire. He looked serious and a little sad, the light splashing the light of
flames onto his face, their image writhing in his eyes. “That’s the thing,” he said, his voice
quiet. “He’s not on our side. He’s on my side. Captain Shen’s. But not ours, not yet.”

“Which does not fill me with confidence, Sokka!” Katara kept her voice equally low, but her
tone emphasised the seriousness of her point. “How can we trust him?”

“You will have to trust me,” Sokka said, looking her in the eye. The reflection of the fire
turned the blue of his own to a strange, dark shade, the flame there still dancing wildly. “He
won’t betray me.”

“How can you be sure of that?”

He looked back at the wood now burning down to embers. “You don’t understand, you can’t.
But he sacrificed a lot to help me. Take my word on that. He won’t betray me.” There was
something so dark there, under the words, it even seemed to have dulled Aang’s enthusiasm
for multi-nation bonding and he was looking concerned, shooting little glances back up to the
sad tent Zuko had disappeared into.

“Well,” Sokka said, voice suddenly brighter. “I’m going to go to bed too. Make sure my stuff
doesn’t get incinerated in a fit of pique.”

“Sokka, please, I need to know... can you at least tell me more about dad?” Katara tried.

He got up and stretched. “Tomorrow, while we walk, maybe. We need to get up early and
start moving. The men chasing us will still be following. Goodnight, guys.” He headed up to
his tent without looking back.

Katara stared after him. She didn’t want to let him go. Everything felt unfinished. She needed
to know why. He was safe, or as safe as he could be, considering he appeared to be sharing a
tent with an imperial firebender. But it didn’t feel safe. Her feelings were as tumultuous as
they had been since losing him. Different, but also the same. He still felt lost.

“It will be alright, Katara, we just need to give it time,” Aang said. “This is meant to be.”
“This,” Toph said, “Is going to be a clusterfuck.” She didn’t sound overly upset at the
prospect.

“Toph, language!” Katara snapped, silently adding it to her collection of good cusses.
Clusterfuck felt accurate.

Going to bed didn’t help. She and Aang were sharing a small tent they had stolen from dead
refugees. His warmth by her side usually brought comfort, but it was eluding her tonight.

Her feelings are so confused. The joy was there, but it was tangled in a restless fear and
energy. It was making her feel a bit sick. She wished she could cry, she felt like she wanted
to, but the tears felt stuck. He was alive. He was alive. But she kept doubting it, like maybe
she was asleep and would wake to face him being gone again.

She had to see. Just one more time, to make sure.

She slid out of her blankets and headed outside. The moon was almost full, bright and casting
long shadows. To avoid being seen, she circled wide, placing her bare feet carefully on the
rocks. She slid around the back. As instructed, Zuko had set the tent up with the hole facing
into the stone wall of the cliff behind them. The slash in it was even bigger than it had
looked, but she would be covered by the gloom as she peered into the tent. She steadied her
breath, afraid it would give her away, although it probably couldn’t be heard above the wind,
and carefully raised herself up high enough to look in.

The moon’s brightness meant that the interior was illuminated enough to see.

They were not just sharing a tent; they were sharing a bedroll. That was…. unexpected.
Sokka used to moan if she had to share with him, let alone other people. Unless he was cold,
then he would still whinge, but let her crawl in anyway. But that was her, his sister. This was
vastly different, it was shocking and disconcerting.

They were also still awake. Zuko was curled around her brother’s back the way a prickle
snake would cuddle up to your warmth at night if you weren’t careful. Another joyful part of
Earth Kingdom fauna she could do without.

She watched quietly as they shifted in their blankets. “Are you going to go after him?” Sokka
said, into the dark. “Iroh?”

“Ro might follow me if I leave. You would be safe.”

Sokka sat up, dislodging the prince. “Or he might not, if he realises what he has here. We’ve
brought him right to the Avatar.”

They were both sitting up now, shoulder to shoulder. Sokka staring at his blanketed knees and
Zuko glaring at the tent flap. “The situation is not good,” Zuko said.
Sokka shot him a look that said ‘duh, dumbass’ louder than words. It was one Katara was
very familiar with.

Zuko rubbed at his face so hard it looked like it must hurt. “If he finds out the Avatar is here,
he will follow you, not me,” he said at last. “He mustn’t be allowed to get his hands on him.”

“Not just Aang. My sister, Zuko,” Sokka said. There was something in his face that
frightened her. “He… he can’t be allowed near her. It’s… he can’t, Zuko, I don’t care what it
takes.”

Zuko watched him for a long moment, still and quiet, then he pushed him down, rolling on
top of him and pressing their faces together. For a shocking moment, Katara thought they
were going to kiss, but he just stayed like that, staring right into her brother’s eyes. “Your
blood is my blood,” Zuko said. “There is nothing I won’t do or give to protect her. My
honour or my life.”

Sokka swallowed shakily, his hands coming up to cup Zuko’s cheeks. “Thank you. Thank
you.” He took some visible deep breaths. “Let’s not let it come to that.”

Zuko sat back up and hugged his knees awkwardly. He looked kind of wretched.

Sokka was still staring up at the roof of the tent. “Everything Fire Nation always has to be
extra dramatic, huh?” he said.

Zuko’s face scrunched up. “It’s a-”

“Ritual, I know.” Sokka pushed himself up a bit and rested his head on Zuko’s shoulder for a
moment. “Do you normally do it like that?” he asked with a little amused twist to his lips.

“No, there’s usually bowing. But it was impractical.” He flushed, she could see it even in the
dim light.

Sokka snorted lightly.

Katara didn’t know how she felt about the interaction. She didn’t know how she felt about
Zuko promising to protect her. Other than indignant. But that aside from that, it was
frightening he seemed to think that was the appropriate response to Sokka’s concern. That
Sokka thought it was. She was missing something, and it was something terrible. They were
genuinely frightened, both of them. Who was this man they were so scared of? Why? What
had he done to her brother?

“How did they lose the bison?” Zuko said finally. He still sounded unreasonably upset about
it. “If we had the bison, we could just go.”

“Well, perhaps we can put your unnatural Avatar hunting abilities to the test and see if they
extend to bison hunting. But no re-stealing him when we find him. We will track down your
uncle, too. We might have news in Ba Sing Se.”

They fell quiet again. Katara was beginning to regret her decision to come out here. She
hadn’t meant to spy on them, not really. Although if Sokka wasn’t going to talk to her, it
looked like it might be the only way for her to learn enough to help him. So perhaps it hadn’t
been the wrong thing to do, even if it made her uncomfortable.

“If your blood is my blood. Does that mean I have to protect your sister, too?” Sokka asked.

Zuko snorted, exactly mirroring the one that Katara had made in her head. “My sister would
incinerate you in a heartbeat and with about as much effort. But…” he trailed off.

“Your uncle was afraid for her.”

“She’s father’s favourite. He likes her.”

Katara remembered Uncle’s story. Saw again the image of smaller Zuko kneeling and
begging and being burnt anyway. She shuddered, and so did Zuko.

“I don’t know if that matters, Zu,” Sokka said softly. “I think she might need saving too.”

“I’m not sure she would let anyone save her. She’s very much a help herself kind of person.”

“So are you, and we needed saving.”

“We rescued ourselves.”

“Shen saved you in the forest, again from the river,” Sokka pointed out.

“Shen and I are even with the saving now!” Zuko snarled at him, like that was important. He
lay back down with a grumpy thump. “Don’t your people have ritual words for things?” he
asked. Apparently deciding to change the subject.

“Yeah, of course. Not as formal, not like that, but we do.”

“I never read much about them. Not from the source. I don’t think I’ve ever found a Water
Tribe book.”

“We never wrote any,” Sokka said. His face looked still, but his eyes were on Zuko. “We tell
our stories, pass them down through words. When your people started murdering us, they
took away more than our lives.”

Their history, their culture, their future. It made the familiar anger roll through Katara’s body
like a wave.

“Oh.” Zuko seemed to think about that for a moment. “Maybe you should start writing things
down so they don’t get lost.”

“That’s not the right answer, Zuko, and you know it,” Sokka sounded firm. The same anger
that was in her, was on the edge of his voice, but he remained calm. Katara thought she
would have punched the stupid ashmaker if she had been close enough.

Despite the lack of violence, it was good to hear that Sokka’s weird relationship with the Fire
Prince didn’t mean he was sympathising with his nation as well. Not that she would ever
think such a thing of her brother, but she had heard about it happening. She had heard stories
since being in the Earth Kingdom, of women being taken, being married into the Fire Nation
against their will and switching allegiance. Men, too, working for the enemy because they
had been broken by them. She couldn’t imagine anything breaking her brother, but it was a
relief, anyway.

“I’m scared,” Sokka said suddenly, his voice a little shaky. Hearing that was almost as much
as a shock as when she thought they were going to kiss. Her brother didn’t just admit things
like that.

“Me too,” Zuko said. “But your sister is a waterbender, a skilled one. She probably doesn’t
even need our protection.”

Damn right.

“And we have the Avatar, half trained, but still an ancient power. And the Earth girl, even if
she’s not as good as she thinks she is. He’s just one man.” Zuko closed his eyes and breathed
in and out, like he was trying to control his breath. “But I’m still more scared than I can
actually…. I don’t have words for it. I would rather die by my own hand, or yours, than be
taken alive again.”

Sokka nodded. “I know. Me too. I considered it, back after he shot you, when it was just me
and Suki running. I thought about killing us both. It would have been kinder. Thought about
killing you too, more than once.” he admitted.

Katara felt a chill that was indescribable. These were words she could never have imagined
either of them saying. Not ever. What had happened? They had glossed over their capture,
but the nightmare in her brother’s eyes had him tighter than she had thought. It wasn’t
because of Zuko, because it had him too. It was whoever the men chasing them were. Men
they would rather die than be captured by.

And how on earth was Suki involved in this?

“He’s only a man,” Sokka said like a mantra. “Only a man. Is he a powerful bender? I never
asked. You all seem the same to me.”

“Very. He could have worked his way up to a higher rank on the basis of strength alone, if he
wasn’t such a sick freak. He ruins his opportunities because he can’t control his… appetites.”

Sokka shuddered. He was quiet for a moment. “Did you think I would leave you?” he asked.
“You were wound up earlier, angry, scared.”

“You could have,” Zuko said, staring into the dark. “I wouldn’t have blamed you.”

“I would have blamed me. It’s us against the world, you know that. I would never just leave.
Talk though options maybe, if things hadn’t gone well. But not just leave, okay?”

“I won’t go after my uncle until you’re safe.” The words sounded stained, like he could
barely believe he was saying them.
“Thanks, buddy. You don’t have to promise that. Things can change. Just promise you won’t
go without talking to me first.”

“I swear it.”

Sokka sighed and seemed to relax a little. “We should try to sleep. We have to get these lazy
children up and moving before dawn.”

Lazy, said her brother, who had to be pried from his bedding every morning. She would need
to find a way to punish him for that. Maybe kick him awake at first light.

Katara made her way back to her tent. She did not feel in the least bit comforted. Aang was
awake and watching her as she settled beside him, Momo complaining sleepily as she jostled
his little form.

“Are they okay?”

“No. I don’t think so. But we will keep going, and we will help.” Help with what she wasn’t
sure, but she was more determined than ever. She had him back, she wasn’t going to lose him
again. She would be the one protecting him. And his stupid firebender, if it came to that.

Aang smiled, sleepy and happy, despite his grief. “If anyone can, Katara, it’s you.”

Determination aside, she wished she had his confidence.

The next morning, she woke with the dawn, miserable, full of anxiety and tangled half
dreams. She staggered out of her tent with Aang to find Sokka already up and dressed, sitting
between Zuko’s legs while the prince carefully shaved the back of his head, holding the
longer hair up with one hand.

“Oh,” Aang said. “Oh.” He had a little smile on his face and his eyebrows were raised high
enough to lift the arrow on his head.

“What?” she asked.

He grinned and shrugged. She was in no mood for nonsense, with only a few hours’ sleep,
and she scowled at him, tapping her foot impatiently. He did not elaborate, just carried on
grinning.

With nothing forthcoming from Aang, she turned back to her brother, and another question
surfaced; what had happened to his hair? It looked terrible.

“You woke late,” Zuko snapped at them. “Pack up.” Their tent was already stowed away and
ready, and there was a small pot of something simmering over their little fire. He pointed at
her with the razor still in his hand. “Wake up the Earth girl, or leave her. Breakfast will be
ready in ten minutes, then we walk.”

Sokka shot her an amused glance. “Get ready to be in a world of pain. You have not yet met
the agony of Zuko determined to get somewhere in a hurry.”

“The Earth girl’s name is Toph,” Katara said tartly. Zuko may be something resembling an
ally for the moment, but he was not going to order her or the rest of them about. If he thought
he was going to get away with talking to them like that, he had another thing coming.

Katara was not the sort of person to ever walk away from a fight, and this was one she would
relish.

…………………

Admiral Zhao wasn’t enjoying being back in Caldera as much as he should, and that enraged
him. This was his hour, the thing he had worked for his whole life. Despite the mess at the
North Pole, he was no longer a lowly captain. He had finally achieved the rank and respect he
deserved, and fucking Zuko was overshadowing it. He knew the little bastard was raiding as
the Blue Spirit to taunt him.

Even remembering how low he had brought the brat helped little, knowing rumours of that
could get him killed too. Why couldn’t the boy just die?

He hadn’t heard from Ro since his failed raid on the Water Tribe and Earth Kingdom camp.
He did wonder if Ro was going to be a problem. The man was loyal, dedicated, but probably
only until it no longer suited him. It was a concern. Zhao might have to arrange his death
whether he was successful or not.

He couldn’t dwell on it. Zhao was here to receive orders and to take his rightful place at
court. He was also hoping to see the princess, he had heard she was due back in the capital
shortly. Hopefully sending her brother’s letter had curried a little favour with her. It had been
years since he had spoken to the girl properly and he wondered what she was like now, if she
had begun to grow into a woman’s body, or was still in that awkward stage like her brother,
caught on the cusp of adulthood.

He would make a good husband for her, although if she was anything like Zuko, he felt he
might grow tired of her quickly. The boy was insufferable, and the arrogance in the family
was like no other. It would be worth it, though. As well as the power the match would bring,
being able to say, even to himself, that he had fucked both the Fire Lord’s children… Well, it
would be something to keep him warm during the long nights aboard his ship.
The officers’ tavern was a rush of warm light and cultured chatter. Last time he had been
here, he had been treated like a nobody. He remembered the men who had dismissed him; he
remembered them all, and they would get what they deserved. But he had gained favour even
before rank, and now things were different. Men spoke to him with proper respect.

He moved through the room slowly, greeting those he could gain from with cordial interest
and enjoying the looks and impressed whispers that followed him.

He would make his way upstairs to the rooms reserved only for those for his rank or above
and their chosen companions, but he paused for a moment to enjoy the more lively
atmosphere of the lower bar.

“Admiral Zhao?” a man said from beside him. He bowed low when Zhao turned to him.
“Congratulations on your promotion.”

The man’s sharp features were vaguely familiar. “Thank you,” he said, fully prepared to
dismiss him, the pin on his robes said he was only a captain.

The man opened his mouth and shut it again, breaking eye contact and looking down, his
body indicating indecision. It caught Zhao’s interest. “Can I help you, Captain…?”

“Kazuma.” Zhao recognised the name. He was Tsing’s man, he thought. Zhao hated Tsing
more each day. The general was trying to get his brat of a useless son into the Fire Lord’s
favour. They all knew what he was angling for. Ridiculous, unseemly ambition, the boy
couldn’t even bend. Zhao would have drowned the little cur at birth rather than suffer the
shame. But then, Tsing seemed to have had trouble siring children, it didn’t give him a lot of
options.

Kazuma cast a quick, surreptitious gaze around the room. “Forgive me, Admiral. I was
wondering if you would be able to give me a few moments of your time?”

“Perhaps,” Zhao said, enjoying the anxiety on the man’s face.

“It’s a… delicate matter. Maybe we could sit somewhere less crowded? I will buy you a drink
for your trouble.”

“I’ll have the Gold Sun wine.” It was expensive enough a mere captain would struggle on his
wage. Kazuma blanched a little, but nodded. Zhao left him and swept up the stairs to the
upper rooms. The serving man at the door gave him a low bow, his eyes lingering on Zhao’s
insignia. Zhao paused to give the man a copper coin, and to request he allow the captain to
join him.

He chose a seat near the back, although he would have preferred to be in full view, talking to
Tsing’s man about ‘delicate matters’ could mean anything. He didn’t want to be overheard.
Kazuma joined him, carefully carrying the bottle and glasses. To have paid for the whole
thing meant he must really want this conversation. That, or Tsing was paying him to have it.

Kazuma sat stiff and straight and obviously nervous. “Thank you for your time, Admiral. I
have heard you have been doing great things. I know you must be in high demand.”

Zhao preened, just a little. If he was feigning his attentions, he was very good at it. But he
was too anxious. No, Zhao thought he was probably looking for favour or an out from under
Tsing’s yoke. He wasn’t navy, though, so Zhao could hardly offer him a job.

“I always try to give a little time to my subordinates,” he said magnanimously.

“I appreciate it, Admiral. I...” He looked down at the table again.

Tsing was not a kind master. Maybe he really was looking for a way out. Zhao certainly
wouldn’t give him one, not unless he offered something interesting in turn. Tsing’s son’s head
on a plate, perhaps. Or at the very least a way to learn of the man’s plans. Especially when it
came to the possibility of Azula’s hand.

“Tell me what concerns you, Captain Kazuma. We have come this far.” He took a sip of his
wine, relishing the taste as it hit his tongue.

The man took a breath, his slim fingers gripping the table top. “Tsing has ordered me to hunt
down the Blue Spirit and bring him to justice.”

The wine soured in Zhao’s gut. “Has he,” he said.

“Indeed. And since I have taken up this challenge, the Blue Spirit has raided Lao Fort and
East Lake prison. And...” He wet his lips. “If I don’t succeed in his capture, then I will lose
more than my commission.”

“And what does that have to do with me?” Zhao asked. “I have no men to spare for this.”
And he would not risk Zuko being taken alive.

“Information, Admiral. He has targeted you more than most. I assume you have come closest
to capturing him. If I can understand why he is targeting you, then maybe I can guess what he
will do next. Set a trap for him, perhaps.”

“He has targeted Tsing just as often,” Zhao pointed out coolly.

“Tsing doesn’t know why. He is too focused on other things.” There was a slight sneer in his
voice and his mouth curled up. “Integrating his son into the court, planning the attack on Ba
Sing Se. He wants me to capture him alive, though.”

That implied that Kazuma did not want him alive. That was intriguing enough to continue the
conversation. Zhao leant forward, using his superior height and breadth to his advantage and
making the other man draw back slightly. Zhao hadn’t got where he was by being timid.
“What does he have on you?”
Kazuma startled and wet his lips again, looking down at the table. He was very well
groomed, and his accent was cultured. Nobly born perhaps, a second son of someone or
other, probably. His hair wasn’t in the usual fashion, it was kept back in a thick, tight bun,
more like those of the Earth Kingdom, who kept all the hair long, rather than just the usual
soldiers’ top knot. An unusual choice for a lowly captain. As an admiral, Zhao could choose
to grow his out and wear it long, but as grand as it looked, it wasn’t practical for someone
who saw active combat. Unlike Tsing, who was always stationed far behind the lines of his
men. Coward. He kept the snarl off his face, barely.

Kazuma was still staring at the table, apparently undecided about leaving himself open, but
then his mouth firmed a little. “He and his companion, a Water Tribe boy, broke into Tsing’s
office. He may have stolen some papers. If that is discovered then…” he trailed off, looking
up at Zhao and flickering his gaze away.

“Then you will be punished. You want him dead.” Why was Zuko still travelling with
Hakoda’s whelp? What were they planning?

“Yes, Admiral. It would benefit me,” Kazuma admitted. “Although I will capture him either
way.”

“Then perhaps we might have something to discuss,” Zhao purred. Kazuma had offered
something dangerous to himself, a verbal hostage. He could use that. If he did capture the
brat alive and discovered his identity, Zhao could probably blackmail him long enough to
have them both killed. “I will need more. As much as I would like the little bastard dead, I do
have other, more important matters to deal with. As you said, my time is precious.” And his
help would be expensive.

“I do not have much, Admiral. I am not here with my unit.”

“An exchange of information, then. You know Tsing well, and his son.” Kazuma made a
small face at the mention of Jianjun. “What can you tell me of him?”

“The boy?” Kazuma shrugged, a small lift of a shoulder. “He is arrogant, but talented in his
chosen weapon.”

“Hmm, Guan Dao.”

“Yes.” Kazuma looked him in the eye, holding his gaze for a moment. “I’m not disloyal,” he
said.

“To those that deserve your loyalty,” Zhao soothed. “Your honour is intact. You are doing this
for Tsing, are you not?”

“I… yes, to catch the Blue Spirit for him. I am desperate, Admiral Zhao, I admit that, and I
will take what help I can get. Hopefully my work will make Tsing pleased in the end.” And
he would live to be disloyal to another master.

“What we speak of will stay between us. I swear it,” Zhao reassured him. He could use a man
in Tsing’s camp, and if it rid him of Zuko? Even better. “Tell me more about the boy.”
Kazuma cracked the knuckles of one hand, looking down to where they rested on the
tabletop. “He has always been headstrong and arrogant, but he has become very difficult
since his mother’s death.”

“She fell down the stairs, didn’t she?”

“...Yes.”

Oh, there was something there of use. Zhao felt a little thrill. Tsing’s marriage to his third
wife had brought him a great deal of money from her family, and she had been young and
beautiful. But it had taken bitter years until she had given him a son. People had whispered
she was barren. It must have been a challenging time. Zhao had quite enjoyed hearing about
it.

“A sad death for a noble woman,” he said.

“Yes. She had taken a... funny turn in the years leading up to her death.” He lowered his
voice. “It was rumoured a suicide. Her maid should have been watching her and was so
shamed, she took her own life as well. It happened before I arrived at Lao Fort. Jianjun took
the loss hard.”

“Understandable.”

Kazuma was looking a little flushed from the wine. It was strong, and even Zhao could feel
it. “He studies hard, though,” the captain said. “Weaponry, history, tactics.” He tapped a
finger on his glass, full of nervous energy. “It is said that the Blue Spirit steals books, as well
as coin. He certainly raided Tsing’s library. The general prides himself on his collections,
although I’ve never seen him read any. I am sure you must have found far better things in
your time at sea. Perhaps that made you a target?”

Of course he didn’t read them. Hoarded knowledge and didn’t use it. Tsing would have a fit if
he knew the things Zhao knew. If he had accessed the things Zhao had. Forbidden teachings.
Some things only the royal family knew, some he didn’t think even they did. Zhao Hoarded
knowledge too, but unlike Tsing, he had every intention of utilising his stolen secrets.

Even if the moon thing hadn’t panned out.

“He has stolen books from me,” he said. “And more valuable things.”

Kazuma leaned forward a little. “I heard he freed the Avatar from Pohuai Stronghold.” Zhao
couldn’t quite hold back his scowl. “You are the only man to have captured him,” Kazuma
continued with a certain amount of awe in his voice, taking the sting out of the reminder of
that Zuko induced disaster. “Many have tried, but you succeeded.”

“Brute strength is not enough,” Zhao told him, taking another drink of his wine, and enjoying
the warm buzz in his veins.

Yes, having one of Tsing’s people in his pocket would be very useful indeed, and Kazuma
seemed eager to please, perhaps angling for more than just the Blue Spirit, he was looking for
a path to keep himself safe, well looked after and away from Tsing. Perhaps Zhao could offer
that, if he actually proved useful. If he did not, he could be easily discarded.

“Tell me a little more about life at Lao River Fort,” Zhao said, leaning a little across the small
table. Kazuma looked surprised, then gave him a tentative smile. He would be easy to
control, and perhaps he could even offer him some small information on the Blue Spirit.

But not until he was sure of him.

…………..

“I hate that man. He makes me feel dirty.” Kazuma took off his outer robe and hung it up
carefully. Even that felt soiled.

“You always feel dirty, Kazuma. I’ve never met a man so obsessed with cleanliness.” Ichika
brushed some crumbs from her crackers onto the floor. Kazuma eyed them with significant
aggravation. The bloody woman knew exactly what she was doing. She was sitting at the low
table, with her robes wrinkling under her bent knees, looking every inch the slob that she
was. She picked up her ink doused brush like she was thinking of attacking him with it.

Kazuma opted to ignore the expression on her face, seating himself on the only chair in his
chambers. “He’s a bully and a fool.” And embarrassingly easy to manipulate because of it.

“One with power and powerful friends. We have had this conversation before. I am tired of
it.”

“Then stop having it,” he said, cracking his knuckles just to annoy her.

“Did you learn anything of note?”

“Zhao is after Tsing and he wants to use me to get to him, and to Jianjun.”

“Kazuma.” She gave him her patented disappointed look.

“I will not share anything that could harm the boy. He’s a prick, but he’s young and in a
complicated position.”

“But…?”

“He showed an interest in Tsing’s dearly departed wife. If certain rumours were to start up
again...”

“Ones that surely didn’t have any help from you the first time.” She raised an eyebrow and
tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Half of her topknot had fallen out down the back
of her head. She had to do it on purpose. How could you lose control of your hair every damn
day? He had twice as much and managed to keep it contained just fine.

“There’s no proof he killed her, but we both know he did,” he said. He really hated Tsing and
if he and Zhao decided to bring each other down, all the better.

“In what way do you think those rumours won’t hurt Jianjun? He’s trying so hard to impress
his father.” Ichika frequently complained about the brat, as he had a tendency to order her
about like she was his servant, which technically she was, although she worked for Kazuma,
not Tsing. Jianjun knew it annoyed her, and he made her do tasks that were inappropriate for
her station. Battling with a seventeen-year-old was perhaps not the most lofty pastime for a
woman with any pride, but Ichika did on some level seem to enjoy it.

“Do you think he doesn’t know? He does, I assure you. As for Zhao, I didn’t learn much, but
he’ll speak to me again. Hopefully he won’t expect me to buy him drinks, though. Gold Sun
wine.” He shook his head, lips twisting into a sneer. “He drank almost the whole bottle.”
Kazuma had kept his own consumption to sips.

“It’s not even good,” Ichika said scornfully. “The only thing going for it is the price tag and
poncy name. Fools think it makes them look rich.”

“Exactly, but he made me buy it, the cheap bastard.”

She looked amused. His purse did not feel the same way.

There was a knock on the door and Ichika jumped, an expression of fear crossing her face,
quickly covered with one of mild interest. Kazuma also tensed. He had done nothing wrong
coming here, although Tsing might disagree, but aside from Zhao and the army secretary he
had reported to at the barracks, he hadn’t announced himself to many people. He had no
friends here. Or anywhere, really.

He straightened his robes as he stood and opened the door with an air of lazy confidence. It
was a young lieutenant. He looked a little wide eyed, like he had not been having a great day.

“Captain Kazuma?”

“Yes?”

“I am sorry to be the bearer of bad news,” he said, like he was reciting from a script.

“Go ahead,” Kazuma said cautiously. He couldn’t fathom what possible bad news someone
would report to him, aside from something relating to his sister. Although he had made it his
life’s work to keep his family's name as far away from his own as he could. He didn’t think
the army knew he had a sister.

The lieutenant stood taller, his eyes looking even more glazed. “As you may know, there was
an... incident at East Lake. The supply of blasting jelly was blown up by terrorists. There
were many casualties, although, of course, we have recaptured all the prisoners. We have
been tracing the dead.”
“I see,” Kazuma said. He did not, in fact, see. He had no idea what this particular angle had
to do with him. If it was Blue Spirit related, then it would make sense. He felt it was probably
best to say as little as possible until he got a measure of whatever this was about.

“Obviously the parties involved want to make sure the families are compensated, you
understand?”

Ah, they were looking to pay hush money to anyone who might ask for an inquiry into their
loved ones’ death. Again, he wasn’t sure what that had to do with him, but he nodded with
understanding anyway.

“Perhaps if we could?” The boy gestured towards the door, and Kazuma reluctantly allowed
him in. He didn’t remove his boots, and Kazuma just about managed to hold back his glare.

The lieutenant glanced at Ichika, who was now watching with genuine interest, but Kazuma
gestured for him to speak. He was growing tired of whatever this was, and he had reports to
read.

“Um,” the lieutenant said. “Some of the bodies were not found, due to the fires and
explosions. But I understand you sent two men to conduct an audit?”

He had done no such thing, but he held his tongue for the moment and hummed in non-
committal acknowledgement.

“Neither of them were recovered, so we were wondering if you would be able to convey our
condolences to the family and perhaps pass on details of where they can get some small
compensation for the loss.”

“I have a lot of men. You will have to be more specific,” Kazuma said, still baffled.

“A man called Li and his brother, um… also called Li?” He looked at his notes doubtfully.
“Conducting an audit.”

Kazuma suddenly had a very, very bad feeling. “A family name, I suspect,” he said vaguely.
“Do you have a description? Was one of them a tall man in his early to mid-thirties? Dark
skin, brown hair and eyes?” he asked. He was really hoping the answer would be no.

The lieutenant looked at his paper again. “Yes. And the other Li was short. A firebender.”

A firebender? “Did you… how did they know he could bend?” That was very clumsy if he
was supposed to know these men, but the boy didn’t look suspicious, he looked like he was
exhausted from delivering so much bad news to distressed parents, and he seemed relieved he
could pass the buck on this one.

“I don’t know. But they arrived at night, so perhaps he was lighting the way? Or his
uniform?” He looked confused.

“Do you have any other information?”

“No, sir. They were only there for a short while before the, um, incident.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant..?”

“Botan.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant Botan. I will explain the circumstances to the family, and suggest
they get in touch for their compensation.” His tone strongly implied he would tread the
company line and not be suggesting looking further into the tragedy.

“Thank you for your understanding, sir.”

Kazuma bowed as he showed him to the door, eyeing the mud flakes he was leaving in his
wake. When it was shut behind Botan, Kazuma stood and stared at the worn wood. His mind
was whirling and he felt a little dizzy.

“You didn’t arrange an audit,” Ichika said through a mouthful of crackers.

“No. I did not. But someone used my name to gain access only hours before the place was
raided and hundreds of prisoners freed.” Including those that had been taken from Captain
Shen’s unit. Unbelievable. But he knew it was true. The audacity. He was torn between
letting himself spiral into… he even didn’t know what, something between being angry and
impressed, and thinking about the other Li.

“Kazuma?”

“Captain Shen used my name to get himself and the Blue Spirit into East Lake,” he said, his
voice came out funny, a little high with disbelief.

Ichika was silent for a moment. Then she snorted. “An audit?” she laughed. “Ash and bone,
Kazuma, he only knew you for a matter of days and he had your measure.” She laughed
again, a hand covering her mouth. Although sadly too late to prevent the spray of cracker
crumbs.

“It’s not funny, if someone put that together…”

“No reason they should, so long as you keep up the illusion that you ordered it. Order
another, send someone back. The spirits only know they need one now, considering the mess
they’ve made.”

He scowled at her. She picked up another cracker. “I hate these.”

“You could try not eating them.”

She gave him a look like he was a fool, then shook her head. “Are you sure it was him?”

“I think so, yes.”

“So the other Li…?”

“The Blue Spirit.”

“Botan said he could bend,” she said doubtfully. “And who gives themselves the same fake
name?”

“Morons,” Kazuma said. He sat back down and let out a long breath. “Two possibilities.
Either they did not see him bend, only assumed it or took his word, or he has always been
able to bend. He is a Fire Nation citizen fighting his own people. Far easier to hide in plain
sight if they are looking for someone from the Earth Kingdom.”

Ichika looked at him, all amusement gone from her face. “Kazuma, in all seriousness, I do
not think this path—either of them, tracking this boy or trying to bring down Zhao, is
sensible. It’s dangerous in a way I don’t think we’ve dealt with before.”

“So I have been told, multiple times. Do you know something I don’t, Ichika?”

She looked at him with warm affection and worry in her gaze, but with an edge of something
else. “I know many, many things, my friend. I do not know the identity of the Blue Spirit. But
I think you should trust Piandao.”

He stared at her for a while, his mind still buzzing. He had to ignore Captain Shen’s part in
this, which was hard because it filled him with a great deal of indignation and other confused
feelings he would rather not dwell on. He had to focus on the important part. The Blue Spirit.

He slid off the chair and joined Ichika on the floor, brushing some crumbs off the stack of
papers and pulling out a mostly clean sheet. He picked up her abandoned brush.

He wrote: Things we know at the top of the page.

‘Li,’ a boy aged between fourteen and twenty. Around five-foot-five in height.

Under that he wrote: Trained under master Piandao within the last five years.

That probably made his age between sixteen and twenty, unless he had begun his sword
training very young indeed.

“You don’t know that for sure,” Ichika pointed out.

“I think that I do.” Piandao’s face had told him so. And he suspected if Ichika discovered the
identity of the boy before he did, she, like Piandao, would not tell him. Because it was
something that would cause such a scandal, it would cause a political storm likely to get them
all killed.

He was officially declared dead. Piandao had thought he was dead, and now knew he was
not.

Speaks with a Caldera accent. Well born.

Has had interaction with Zhao and Tsing in the past, prior to or outside of his Blue Spirit
activities.

Potentially able to bend and hiding it.

Has stolen money and goods, but also documents on history and spirit matters.

Possibly has some connection to one of the following people: Second Lieutenant Chāo,
Captain Minato, General Iroh, Chancellor Hiroto and Captain Wang

Kazuma had not had time to go over the names on the Water Tribe boys’ list yet, but it was an
oversight he would soon correct.

He looked over his own list and thought back to the things Captain Shen had said.

He has burns that were old, not from the recent unpleasantness with Zhao. Those might be
from after the Blue Spirit began, or could be from childhood. In which case, they could have
been the trigger for turning against his nation.

“He would have been very young,” he said out loud. “And if he is well born, then it is
unlikely they came from a source outside his home. If he had been harmed during cadet
training, the family would have complained.”

“Unless they had fallen from favour or were killed. The family of suspected traitors do not
last long,” Ichika said, but there was something wrong with her voice. She was staring at the
words on the page, with her dark eyes wide and her face pale.

Kazuma sat back on his heels a little. “Yes, that’s true, I hadn’t considered that. I will need to
add families that have been disgraced to the list,” he said, watching her. She knew. She had
just guessed the boy’s identity from the information on the page.

And she wasn’t going to tell him. “Ichika?”

“Give this up, Kazuma.”

“If I don’t find this boy, I will lose my commission. More, perhaps.”

“If you do find him, you will lose your life, Kazuma,” she said with complete certainty. “As
will I. And perhaps everyone we could have possibly spoken to.”

He could feel a chill working its way down his spine. “I will be careful.”

“It won’t matter. Tsing can only punish you for Lao Fort if he can find you.”

“Are you suggesting I desert?”

“Yes, we should run. I am not joking or speaking lightly. It might already be too late. If he is
found, we will still be hunted down and killed for even suspecting his identity.”

This was narrowing down the possibilities to only the most important families. The
information was here. He was not really up to date with matters at court. Nobles and generals
annoyed him and politics frequently enraged him. But a little research and he would have his
answer.
 “I will focus on Zhao for now,” he said carefully. “I will investigate his records and see if I
can locate any other victims. And I will think about how to proceed with the Blue Spirit. I do
not wish to put you in danger.” The idea of something happening to her because of him was
unthinkable.

Zhao, at least he had a handle on.

“The admiral is a different kind of danger,” Ichika said. “And if Captain Shen was telling the
truth, and he abused this boy when he was his prisoner, he will stop at nothing to keep that
hidden. The fact he even did such a thing is… the man is arrogant beyond reason. He will do
more than kill you, Kazuma, he will make you hurt, especially if he thinks you have betrayed
him. I do not want to witness that.”

“I can manage Zhao. Whoever the boy is, and whoever else he has hurt in this way, they
deserve some measure of justice. I can’t just leave it. I can’t let him get away with these
things.”

“You are a good man, Kazuma.” She stood, brushing down her robes. “I do not want your
goodness to get you killed.”

He looked back at his page, his neat, fussy brush marks. A good man? He tried to be, he did
try. But he had still let Ro torture Captain Shen for an hour. He had still not brought the sick
bastard up on charges over the villagers he had massacred. Not to mention all the other things
he had been forced to turn a blind eye to. There was a lot of blood on his hands. Too much to
claim the title of a good man.

But he had to try.

Chapter End Notes

Next chapter: The gaang attempt to adjust to the new dynamic. Tu navigates his
continuing bad luck and Azula finally gets a few answers. She is more than a little put
out by them, so begins to plan a few counter measures. Just in case.

Also a shoutout to the tumblr anon who asked where they everyone was geographically
a chapter or so ago and I had to waffle out an answer because I couldn’t say that they
were basically on top of each other!

And while I am writing notes to people, Discord Anon, I think I accidentally deleted
your ask with the link, could you send it again? (Sorry! I apparently fail at tumblr >.< )
 Chapter 27
Chapter Summary

She was stirring her stew with the sort of vigour you would expect from mercilessly
stabbing someone to death.

Chapter Notes

Warnings: Brief violence, anger, grief, trauma. animal death (for food) Katara says fuck,
Sokka is appalled (not really).

Many thanks to my beta burkesl17, who has managed to wrangle my dyslexic nonsense.
All mistakes are my own.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Being back with Katara was an unexpected blessing. Sokka couldn’t stop looking at her. He
had missed her so much. Being separated had been a dull ache that sometimes sharpened into
stabbing pain, and despite the circumstances being far from ideal, he was overwhelmed with
relief to be reunited.

But she was also very annoying.

He had somehow forgotten that.

Most of it was little sister annoyingness, but a lot was pure Katara, and he could admit it was
just another part of her he adored. But it was also very awkward in this situation.

The problem was, she wanted to know what happened, and he would rather cut off his own
arm than tell her.

But his sister was relentless. It was a different relentless to the Zuko kind he had grown used
to. It was more subtle, more openly caring, and it was hard not to answer her questions, even
the ones where she wasn’t trying to pry. He knew that she just wanted to help him, he didn’t
doubt that for a moment. But knowing wouldn’t help either of them. It was hard enough to
see the shadow and fear in her eyes. Knowing more would only make it worse.
The way she watched him was far more intense than the way he watched her. For him, the
sight of her was like an oasis in a desert. She looked at him like he was the last gasp of air
underwater, at risk of being snatched away.

She had thought he was dead. Had grieved him. That had wounded her deeply, and he didn’t
know how to fix it.

He had explained some things; the Earth Kingdom camp, rescuing Shen and Suki, the prison
break at East Lake, but now he was back to avoiding her questions as much as he could as
they walked. He answered without embellishment or context when he had no other choice.
Zuko cut in occasionally to save him from explanations with terse, aggressive answers. What
had happened to his hair? Zhao cut it off. End statement.

He had never thought he would be grateful for one of Zuko’s demented, enforced marches,
but the level of exhaustion dogging them all meant even Katara couldn’t keep up the steady
stream of questions.

“We are stopping!” Katara announced in a no nonsense tone, as they approached an area that,
to Sokka’s eye, looked like an ideal campsite. It was close to a fast running tributary coming
down from the mountain heights and was protected from the wind by rocky outcrops.

Zuko opened his mouth to object, but Sokka cut him off. “She’s right, this is a good place to
stop.”

“We have another hour of light left.”

“Yes, but we might not get somewhere defensible to camp in an hour, and we need to rest.
Some of us, not me of course, have shorter legs than you, and need to walk twice as fast to
keep up. We’re stopping.”

Zuko scowled, but he didn’t argue further.

“You,” Aang huffed, “Were not kidding about Zuko trying to get somewhere in a hurry. Or
the pain.” He had his shoes off and his legs stretched out. Taking a break before setting up
camp. He looked more exhausted than Sokka had seen him, outside post combat situations.

“You’re doing it wrong!” Zuko’s very loud voice echoed up from the rocks by the stream.

“I’m a waterbender! I know what I’m doing!” Katara’s equally resounding response floated
up, the sound bouncing.

“Good thing we’re not running from the Fire Nation, or this could be really unfortunate,”
Sokka commented. But he grinned as he leaned back on his hands and stretched his own tired
legs out.

“Should we worry? I mean about them, not the Fire Nation.” Aang tilted his face up to the
last of the sun as it slid down towards the mountain peaks. Apparently not inclined to actually
get up to check on them.

Almost to illustrate his concern, there was some incoherent yelling, then the sound of water
splashing, quickly followed by more yelling.

“Nah, they’re fine,” Sokka said. “Think of it like when you have a pot with a lid on, you have
to lift it sometimes to let some steam out, or it might boil over.”

“So them yelling is letting off steam?” Aang still sounded a little doubtful.

“Exactly. They’re both stressed, and relieve that pressure by arguing, shouting and being
stubborn morons. It’s good for them to fight a bit, as long as it’s not over anything serious.”

They fell silent to listen for a moment. The squable seemed to be about the correct way to fill
the water pot. How there could be a wrong way was completely baffling.

“Are they really fighting about filling up the pot for cooking?” Aang asked, echoing Sokka’s
thoughts. “How many ways are there to even do that?”

“Zuko argued almost coherently for seven hours about teapots, he can find a way to fight
about anything. Also, Katara has never in her life admitted to being wrong, ever, and will
fight until death if she thinks she is right.”

Katara had reached ear splitting, and Zuko’s voice was cracking, he was yelling so loud.

Sokka felt a rush of affection for them both. “Actually, I wonder if I should be afraid they’re
going to become friends by shouting at each other. I suspect that will not go well for me.”

Aang grinned. “Almost certainly not.” He sat up a bit and glanced at Sokka with a
speculative expression on his face. Sokka ignored him, and watched the slowly darkening
sky, the sun setting red and orange over the mountains above them.

Toph provided distraction as she stomped up from the stream below, her fingers stuck in her
ears. She was hobbling slightly too, and he felt bad for her bare feet, although they seemed as
tough as old leather.

“Those two,” she said as she slumped by the small collection of firewood they hadn’t
bothered to light. “Those. Two. They can’t even put water in a pot without a battle.”

Sokka thought she would have been amused if she didn’t look so tired. He sighed, and Aang
looked at him with concern again.

“You okay, Sokka?” he asked. He had tucked his feet up and was massaging his sore soles.

“Yeah, just tired. Although I’m used to it.”

Aang nodded, accepting the evasion. “I’m glad you and Zuko are okay. I’m glad you found
each other.”
“Yeah. It’s been a process. An ongoing process.” He was going to have to accelerate some of
his Zuko education plans. “Listen, Aang, I need your help.”

“Of course! With what? Zuko?”

“Yeah, I just need you to be unrelentingly you at him.”

“Unrelentingly me?”

“Yeah, the fun, empathetic, animal loving you, who helps people and accepts your enemies
without a second thought. And the serious and sad you too, while you’re at it.”

“I don’t really know how not to be me, Sokka.”

“I know, and I hope you never lose that. Zuko needs to see you as a person, not just a… a
concept, a mystical being or a means to an end. He has to see you, Aang, a twelve-year-old-
and-some boy.”

Toph snorted. “And some? That’s one way to add in an extra hundred,” she said, apparently
recovered enough to be a pain. Sokka wasn’t sure what he made of her yet. She was funny,
crude, blunt and, of course, stubborn. And he enjoyed that. He was torn between amusement
at the continuous casual antagonism of his sister (and everyone else) and the need to defend
Katara from it.

Not that she needed defending, she gave as good as she got. Something he liked to attribute
to having him as a big brother, but was probably just her obstinate, feisty personality.

Spirits, he loved her.

“I need you to be the boy who was brought up in peacetime, who is grieving a war and a
people. The Aang who likes egg tarts and hopping llamas. Whose fluff apparently makes
good coats.”

Aang was silent for a long moment. “That’s just who I am. You see me as me, don’t you?
Katara too?”

“Yeah, of course.” He really hadn’t meant to cause the kid to have an existential crisis,
although from his expression, that’s where it was headed.

“Excuse me? Where am I in this narrative?” Toph belched loudly. Sokka was grateful, and
added observant and astute to his list of her attributes.

“I know you do, Toph, no one else would consider bullying the Avatar like you,” Aang said
with a grin, his entire demeanour lightening. He tried and failed to make his voice sound
sour. “You’re horrid.”

“It’s my middle name,” Toph said happily.

“Toph Horrid Beifong,” Aang tried it out.

“Love it,” Sokka said. He half heartedly pushed some more wood towards their soon to be
fire. The air was getting chilly. He should probably light it, but he wanted Zuko to do it. To
feel useful, which was stupid, because any of them could use spark rocks. “Most of the Earth
People I’ve met so far only use one name. Why do you have two?” he asked.

Toph grunted. “It’s so people know we’re special. My family is filthy rich.” She sounded
contemptuous, but as Sokka didn’t have the whole story on why she seemed to dislike her
family, he didn’t press.

“Do they have that a lot in the Earth Kingdom?”

“Yeah, in noble families. In the Fire Nation too.”

“It’s a little different in the Fire Nation, or it was,” Aang said. “You would use the name
differently. You wouldn’t say Toph Beifong, you would say Toph of the Beifong family. The
name belongs to the dynasty founder.”

“Most common born people wouldn’t bother. It’s just important families that get to do that,”
Toph said. “You don’t in the Water Tribes?”

“No, not really, not in the South, at least. I would say I am Sokka, son of Hakoda. Does the
Fire Lord’s family have a name like that?”

“They didn’t. But that was before. They didn’t need to identify their family, because
everyone should know who they are. But minor branches might say they were of the blood.”
Aang scrunched his face up. He looked troubled. “Thank you for earlier. For saying you see
me.”

“No problem.” He was so earnest, so young. It filled Sokka with fear, knowing what was
behind them. They had maybe earned a day or so from scaling the cliff, assuming Ro hadn’t
done the same or found a shortcut.

Sokka was grateful when Katara and Zuko returned, stalking their way up from the river like
a pair of matching thunder clouds. His sister lugging the pot of water, and Zuko squelching as
he literally steamed himself dry.

“Hi guys!” Aang said with so much cheer he sounded a little unhinged. Katara growled at
him, and then at Sokka, just because. She slammed the pot onto the ground, sloshing some of
the contents onto the dry earth.

Zuko sat beside Sokka with an equal level of angry force.

“Having a good time?” Sokka asked, forgetting his own advice about riling firebenders. Zuko
gave him the stink eye so hard it probably cursed his future children, grandchildren, and
possibly great grandchildren, too.

“Ugh,” Zuko said, flopping backward. He was still steaming slightly. The warmth was nice.

“Well done for collecting the water, Sugar Queen. Kept most of it in the pot and everything,”
Toph said with a smile that Sokka fully expected to be slapped off her face. He was quite
impressed she was still in one piece. But although easily nettled, Katara was one of the most
emotionally intelligent person he had ever met, and she could take a joke.

He watched her glare at Zuko, like it was his fault.

Or perhaps she was too focused on the subject of her dislike to even contemplate anything
else.

“Can you light the fire?” he asked Zuko, hoping to keep the peace a little.

Zuko did so, with perhaps more flame than was necessary. Katara’s eyes narrowed further at
him.

“What’s for dinner?” Sokka asked her. “I’ve missed your cooking!”

He had. Sort of. He missed her cooking, but not what she cooked for Aang. He had not
missed meatless broth. But he was also not opposed to any food, ever, so he lent forward
eagerly.

Katara looked even more annoyed as Zuko sat up and applied heat directly to the pot,
bringing it to the boil quickly. “We have some dumpling weed left. And some dried um… rat
thing,” she said.

“Rat thing?” Sokka asked, a little dubiously.

“We don’t know what it is,” Toph said, stretching her very dirty feet towards the fire. Zuko
shuffled away from them a little, looking faintly horrified. “So rat thing is as close as we
could get.”

“Does it taste okay?”

“Yeah, not much fat on it, but it tastes strong. You’ll like it,” Katara said. “You can add it
after the rest is cooked.”

“Then I’ll take double of the rat thing!”

Aang made a little face, more for show than out of any genuine disgust. He was accepting of
their flesh-eating ways.

Zuko reached for their bags. “We have some rice, nuts and grains the Avatar could eat,” he
said, as he dug out some of the small packages of dried food.

“Thanks, Zuko!” Aang grinned, so pleased his face almost looked like it was all smile.

Sokka gave Zuko an amused look. “That’s nice of you, buddy. I mean, that’s my bag, and
therefore my food, not yours, but the gesture was truly lovely.”

From the expression on Zuko’s face, he was well aware whose bag it was and exactly what he
was doing. Sokka punched his arm lightly as he handed over Sokka’s packet of rice.
“Sharing is caring, Sokka,” Katara said, all teeth and spite. Although from the look of it,
almost all of her attention was still on Zuko. It seemed yelling had not released all the tension
necessary for them to just chill out and rest. No, they had to squabble more.

“Although,” Katara said, soft as silk. “Giving away someone else’s things seems very on the
nose for the Fire Nation. Don’t you think, Toph?” she asked.

“Yeah. Kind of true,” Toph agreed, shockingly. Sokka had not been under the impression they
did agreeing, but apparently they could move past their difficulties in order to cause him
trouble. Perhaps their fighting was also just to let off steam, or their way of communicating,
and it was not as antagonistic as it had first appeared to him.

Zuko huffed. “We don’t just take things!”

“What do you call the colonies?” Sokka pointed out, keeping his voice light. “That’s taking
land, resources, people, sometimes.”

“I’m not responsible for that. Even my father isn’t.” Zuko looked like a man who knew this
conversation was going to be a rough one, and was bracing for denial. One of his stronger
skills.

“Kind of missing the point of the whole war thing there. But I agree it’s not your fault
personally. Even so, you really can’t deny what the Fire Nation is doing is taking stuff.” Not
to mention all the lives being lost and destroyed.

“Not his fault personally?” Katara asked, with real bite. Sokka sighed. She wasn’t wrong to
be angry or to challenge him, but she probably wasn’t going to do it in a way that was helpful
to Sokka’s reeducation plan.

“No, it’s not something I...” Zuko broke off, apparently considering what he would want if it
was his choice. “I want the war to stop,” he concluded.

“You should at least apologise for what you did to us,” Katara said. She was stirring her stew
with the sort of vigour you would expect from mercilessly stabbing someone to death.

“I’m not sorry. I did what I had to,” Zuko said. Sealing his fate for all eternity.

Sokka narrowed his eyes at him, but kept his tone even. “Really? You attacked and frightened
our Grandma. Giving an old lady bruises seems like something you should be sorry for.”

Guilty face. “Okay, I am sorry for that.”

It was exhausting to have to break things down for him, but it wasn’t good enough to shame
him, he had to understand why it was shameful.

“And you destroyed part of our village, which contained only women, children and me.
Fixing it to being habitable is not easy. It takes labour and resources that we just don’t have.”
Because of your people.
“I’m… I’m sorry for that as well,” Zuko said, eyes downcast. He sounded like he meant it.
Sokka was sure he did, but being sorry because reality was pointed out to you wasn’t good
enough either.

One step at a time. It was a mantra he liked to use when dealing with his friend. It was that or
beat him bloody in frustration.

“What about Kyoshi Island?” Katara said.

“Kyoshi island was accidental! I already apologised for that one.”

“Do you think if you accidentally set towns on fire on the regular, you should be more
careful?” Sokka asked, neutral and serene.

“The nuns? You destroyed their home, too!” Katara was on a roll, the very opposite of neutral
and serene.

“They shouldn’t have gotten involved! Not sorry for that one.”

“Pirates! You tied me to a tree!”

“Would you rather I let them take you on their ship?” Zuko was looking flushed, and the fire
was rising. He hadn’t been this bad back at the camp, even when wound up, he had kept
control of his bending. This situation seemed very different for him, more emotionally
charged.

“Zuko, calm down,” Sokka said. He probably should be telling Katara to rein it in a bit too,
but she was right, and Zuko was not. She deserved to let rip a little.

“My mother’s necklace!”

“You lost it! I just picked it up, I didn’t steal it! Do you just give stuff back to your enemy
when you could use it?”

“Sometimes!” Aang interjected like a cooling breeze. “If they need it, or like it a lot.”

Zuko turned his glare on him. “You do not count.”

“He’s the Avatar, of course he does!” Katara’s voice was louder even than Zuko’s, which was
very robust at the best of times. Sokka shared a look with Toph. She had her fingers wedged
in her ears again, but she looked amused.

“That’s why he doesn’t count!” Zuko didn’t seem to want to be outdone, in volume at least.

Perfect learning moment. Sokka held up a finger, stopping Katara’s retort. “Okay, Zu, answer
me this; why doesn’t the Avatar count?”

“Because that’s what he does, stupid healing deeds. It’s what made you so easy to track! You
always stopped to help people, although you also messed with the wildlife.” He looked
extremely disapproving. Aang’s method of animal appreciation and Zuko’s were not the
same.

Sokka could see Katara about to huff herself into a mess. Her right eye was twitching
slightly, usually a sign to run for the hills. “Hear me out, please,” he said, to forestall the
brewing eruption.

She remained fuming, but let him speak.

“Okay. So we agree Aang doesn’t count because it is in his nature both as the Avatar, and as a
person, to help people and try to make things better?”

Zuko glared and grunted, but didn’t disagree.

“So, don’t you find it a little disturbing that the Fire Nation is opposed to this? That its aim is
to remove the Avatar? Either by death or capture? Doesn’t that strike you as wrong, or at least
a little counterproductive to the overall good of the world?”

“No!” Zuko yelled, but it was an automatic denial when faced with something he didn’t have
an answer to. He had probably come out of the womb shouting ‘no!’ at people.

Now it was apparently Sokka’s job to stop Katara tearing him a new one while that
information filtered through his thick head and percolated a while. Teaching Zuko that he was
one of the bad guys was going to be so much more difficult with Katara trying to fight him
the whole way. Stuff didn’t go in when he was yelling, he needed the quiet to think about it.

But stopping Katara from being rightfully righteous was as hard as stopping Zuko from
flying off the handle when something challenged him. This was going to be worse than trying
to wrangle the little kids into defence training back home.

He sighed as the yelling increased. Aang gave him a happy grin and a thumbs up. At least
one person could see what he was trying to do. Sokka hoped that there would be peace when
they got it out of their systems. Katara angry and yelling, was a Katara who could be swayed.
Katara cold and furious would be much more difficult.

With time and exposure to Zuko’s Zukoness, she would come around.

“Can we please just eat now?” he asked plaintively. His ears needed a break.

Katara dished out food like it had personally offended her and it reminded Sokka so strongly
of Zuko he wanted to laugh, despite the tension. He didn’t though, he liked being alive and
unflayed.

“So, you were going to tell us more about spending time with dad?” Katara said. She was still
angry, and the question felt a little loaded.

“Why don’t you tell us about your travels?” Sokka countered. “I don’t even know how the
battle went down. Other than the fact we won. And there was allegedly a glowing fish
monster.”
“There was,” Zuko muttered grumpily.

Aang looked upset and so did Katara, really upset. Sokka realised this was when he had
supposedly died. It had perhaps not been the right place to start. He wanted to avoid
answering their questions, but he hadn’t meant to cause discomfort. “You know, I had half
hoped Yue would have joined you,” he grinned, trying to lighten the mood. “Stupid fantasy,
of course. She has responsibilities back home, and doesn’t seem like the kind of person to
shrink them. Unfortunately.”

He took a bite of his rat thing and chewed, before glancing at his sister. The expression on her
face was a horrible, twisted mix of guilt, sadness and worry.

The food turned to ash in his mouth. Seeing her face, he just knew. He could feel his stomach
drop and an awful cold rush started at his fingertips and moved up through his arms.

“How?” he asked. His voice sounded weird. “Tell me what happened,” he demanded.

She told him.

He sat and stared at the fire. He couldn’t sort his feelings out. There were too many of them.
The flames seemed to mock him, jumping bright and fierce from the wood. He could feel
rage, grief, disbelief, shame. A tangled maelstrom of emotion that wouldn’t let him think
properly.

“Sokka?” Zuko asked. His fingers felt hot, burning where they touched Sokka’s arm gently.

Sokka hated it. “Did you know?” he asked. His voice came out surprisingly cold.

“No.”

“Are you lying to me again, Zuko?” Had he? Had he known or suspected, and every time
Sokka had talked about her, he held back the truth?

“I didn’t know, Sokka. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Somehow that was the flash point. All those feelings sucked together in a firestorm
of white anger. He stood, unable to remain still with the force of it. “Sorry? Your people did
this, you did. If you hadn’t kidnapped Aang, then…” Then maybe things would have been
different.

Zuko also rose to his feet, and Sokka shoved him. He rocked back, but didn’t otherwise react.
He said nothing, but his face was watchful, open with concern.

It made Sokka furious. He needed a reaction; needed to release some of the pressure in his
body, in his mind. He felt almost outside himself as he threw the first punch.
Unlike the last time Sokka had done that and knocked him on his arse, Zuko caught his fist
and twisted. Somehow Sokka was the one who ended up flat on his back, struggling
ineffectively as Zuko restrained him, holding his wrists while straddling his hips, keeping his
legs pinned with his feet. Sokka didn’t care, he twisted and thrashed and cursed him to the
spirit world and back. He couldn’t even remember what he said after it left his mouth. The
anger was a hot wave that burnt everything before it.

Distantly, he could hear Katara shouting. Even that couldn’t quite break through the white
noise in his head.

He didn’t know how long it took for the flames in his mind to start to dim.

“Stay out of it,” Zuko was saying. “I’m not hurting him.”

“I want you to get off him!” Katara’s voice was thin and frightened. It shocked Sokka back a
bit, and sense started to return. Colour came back to his vision, and he could feel the tightness
of Zuko’s grip on him.

“Bad idea, Sugar Queen,” Toph said. “Let him calm down.”

“Now, Zuko!” Katara demanded, ignoring her friend.

“I’m not going to just let him punch me! Last time I deserved it, this time I don’t.”

Sokka’s forehead hurt, a dull ache. From the blood dripping from Zuko’s split lip, it was
pretty obvious what had happened. The drops were sliding down to land on Sokka’s face. It
felt strange, warm and cold at the same time. Surreal.

“Don’t you?” Katara said, her voice still panicky. “Didn’t you kidnap Aang just before? If
you hadn’t done that, maybe Zhao would never have got in. Maybe Aang could have fought
him.”

“I don’t think it would have made a difference,” Aang said. His voice sounded a little
frightened too, and Sokka felt another rush of shame. They were scared because of him. Zuko
had reacted appropriately, it was Sokka who had lost his shit in front of them. He tried to
regain some control, breathing deeply and shutting his eyes.

“The Avatar was there when Zhao killed the moon fish! My uncle was too, he fought to
protect it.”

“And you? You didn’t fight for us.”

“I was trying to get free from my bindings! It took a while because you dumped a snow drift
on me and I was cold! And when I did, Zhao was running, so I chased him. I didn’t see what
happened to the girl.”

“Yue,” Sokka said, opening his eyes and staring up at Zuko. All he could see was his chin, as
he was glaring over at Katara. “Not girl, Princess Yue.”

“Princess Yue.” Zuko’s voice was soft. “I’m sorry, Sokka. I really am.”
“Get off me.” Sokka strained slightly against his hold, but Zuko knew what he was doing,
and he couldn’t move.

“Are you in control of yourself?”

“Yeah, get the fuck off me.” His voice was icy again, but he was back in control.

Zuko did as he asked without question, moving quickly out of strike range. His face was
composed, but his body was still tense, ready to react.

The burning urgency of the anger had passed, and Sokka just felt exhausted. Sucked dry. He
couldn’t even feel the sadness. Just numbness. He rose shakily to his feet and glared at them
all. “Leave me be,” he said, and stalked off into the night.

He sat by the stream for a while. The moon was covered by clouds tonight, for which he was
grateful. He didn’t really understand what it meant for someone to have become a spirit other
than death. Did her consciousness continue? Or was she just gone? The thought was heavy
with guilt and shame and deep, deep sadness.

He wanted to cry, but the tears didn’t come, like his feelings were too overwhelming. So he
sat and ached inside while his thoughts spun and tangled.

Katara found him, perhaps half an hour later. She sat beside him and stared out at the
landscape without speaking. She knew him so well. Or she had before, but he wasn’t sure he
was the same person he had been. He didn’t know who he was anymore, and he wasn’t sure
he could ever find his way back to who he had been. Tonight had been an excellent example
of that.

His grief was still so wild in him, but shadowing it was fear. Fear of the anger. That white
wave of fury that was so consuming it blocked all thought. He had probably always been
angry. Angry at his mother dying, at his father leaving, angry that he and Katara had been
forced to take responsibilities that should have been their parents’, if the Fire Nation hadn’t
taken them. And he knew sometimes it could come out with bursts of temper, like when he
had knocked Aang down after he burnt Katara, when Hahn had talked shit about Yue.

But since the boat, it felt like he had no control when it came. The first time, when his dad
had stopped him following Zuko after his nightmare, the shock of the force of it had knocked
him free of its grip. But the second time when he had punched Zuko, even his father dragging
him off hadn’t stopped it. Today, Zuko fighting back and effortlessly taking him down had
been a relief, after the fact. He wasn’t in danger from Sokka losing it. He could protect
himself, although apparently only when he felt the violence wasn’t warranted, which was a
separate concern he would need to deal with later.

What if it happened with someone else? Could he accidentally hurt Katara? Aang? Some
random person who said the wrong thing and didn’t deserve his rage?

It was terrifying. He had never been afraid of himself before.

“Sokka?” Katara asked, quiet and gentle.

“I’m okay,” he said automatically. He wasn’t ready to talk about what had just happened, so
he focused on the grief instead. Shocking that was the easier option. “I...it’s just a lot to
process, after everything. I wasn’t expecting it. I don’t know why. It somehow didn’t occur to
me to worry about people other than you and Aang.”

No, he had been worried that Yue wouldn’t wait for him. That she would be forced into a
marriage against her will and be miserable and hurt. He hadn’t been worried she could be
dead. When he heard the North had won, he hadn’t considered he would know any of the
casualties outside those men who had been on his mission.

“It wasn’t Zuko’s fault, you know,” Katara said with a certain amount of reluctance.
“Although he took Aang, I’m not sure it would have made a difference to what happened.”

“I know.” He couldn’t bring himself to say what he really was thinking: I wasn’t there.

If he had been, could he have stopped it?

Probably not, but he would never know, would he? And that was on him and his shitty
decision making. Things might have been different if he hadn’t gone on the mission,
something he had done for essentially petty, selfish reasons. Because he’d thought he needed
to prove himself. Because he was angry and bitter. So much would be different if he had
made other choices, if he’d had better control of himself.

But if he hadn’t been on the boat, what would have happened to Zuko? Would it have been
better or worse for him? Zhao had forced his compliance by using Sokka, something that ate
and burned at his insides every day. Every time he saw Zuko’s scars, every time he felt warm
and safe in his arms. If he hadn’t been there, would Zhao have done something else? Would it
have ended the same? Would Zuko have escaped sooner? Or not at all?

“The hurt is so much more, isn’t it?” Katara asked, breaking the long silence. “I don’t know
how to help you.”

Sokka bit back the ‘I don’t need your help’ that wanted to roll off his tongue. “I know. It’s
okay.”

“It’s not. I hate to see you in pain.”

He had clearly been doing a piss-poor job of hiding his feelings. He would have to try harder.
“A lot happened,” he said. “To both of us, and it fu- messed us up some.”

“I am aware of the word fuck, you know,” Katara said primly.

Sokka gasped in mock outrage. “Not my innocent little sister! I’m telling dad.”

“If you tell dad, I’ll have to tell him where I learned it.”

“Good counter. We can blame it on Zuko. He has a filthy mouth.”

She shot him a weird undecipherable look, but offered a small smile instead of commenting.
“He’s a good guy, you know,” Sokka said. “Under all the propaganda and the yelling. At the
risk of sounding like Aang-”

“Shudder the thought.”

“At the risk of sounding like Aang, he has a good heart. It’s just his life has been difficult,
and he was taught the world was a certain way. It takes time to unlearn that. But he is making
progress. I honestly believe he will get there.”

“You think he might teach Aang firebending?” Katara sounded a little sceptical, but she was
looking out at the mountains rather than at him.

“Maybe. I can’t promise that. It’s one thing to accept his nation is hurting others-”

“Causing untold destruction, death, and misery.”

“Yes, that. It’s another thing to fight them, all of them, not just in self defence. To help fight
his father, who is a detestable human being in all ways.” Sokka sighed, trailing his fingers
over the stony dirt they were sitting on. “But he’s still his dad. He loves him. Even though the
bastard doesn’t deserve it.”

Katara was silent for a moment. It was something Sokka appreciated about her—even though
she clearly didn’t trust Zuko, and still disliked him intensely, his pain was something she
could empathise with.

“Iroh told us what happened to him,” she said at last, looking at him again. “He thought Zuko
was dead, so I don’t think he saw it as breaking confidence, more a way to explain his
behaviour. Why he was doing what he was doing. He didn’t excuse it, though, and I don’t
either.”

Sokka nodded. “No, it’s an explanation, not an excuse. But I think he could…” He tried to
put his thoughts into words. “I think with time, and exposure to how the world really is, the
harm being done, I think he can come around. What he does then still won’t excuse what’s
done in the past, but perhaps he can help deal with it, with the consequences of his actions, I
mean.” He snorted lightly. “Not his strong suit, I admit, but he is unreasonably tenacious. If
he turns for the right reasons, then he will fight just as hard for us as he has for his dad and
his stupid war.”

“What are the wrong reasons?”

“He has to do it because it’s the right thing to do. Not because of his attachment to me, or to
Shen or Suki, or even to Aang, if he’s bullied into becoming friends.” Which was something
he couldn’t imagine not happening, eventually. Aang was just as relentless as Katara in his
own way.

Katara nodded, making a slightly disgusted expression. “He’s insufferable,” she said. “And
I’m mad at him.”
Sokka grinned at her, and he almost meant it, although from the sad look on her face, she
could see his heart wasn’t fully in it. “He’ll grow on you, like a fungus. But he will remain
insufferable and infuriating. That is very unlikely to change.” He could hear the affection in
his own voice.

“Don’t think I don’t notice you being evasive again.”

“Nothing gets past you, oh brave and wise sister of mine.” The moon was starting to shine
faintly behind the thinning cloud, and his stomach twisted. “I missed you.”

“I can’t even describe how I felt,” Katara said, suddenly tense and terse. Her body had
stiffened, and she turned her face away, but he could still see her grief. He didn’t know what
he would have done if their positions were reversed. Something stupid probably. He didn’t
know how to comfort her. He always knew how to shake her out of a dark mood, even if it
was by annoying her into a rage. But now it felt… stuck. Like there was a gulf between them
of pain and loss and anger.

“What did Iroh tell you?” he asked instead.

“That his father tried to make him fight a duel and burnt him.”

“He had to fight his dad?” Sokka asked. He didn’t know why he was shocked, or what he
was expecting, but that wasn’t it. He realised belatedly that he shouldn’t have asked at all.
This was Zuko’s story to tell, on his terms.

“He refused to fight, so his father burned him and banished him. He could only come home if
he captured the Avatar.”

What had Zhao said, right back at the beginning? That Zuko had been banished for
cowardice. Even then, Sokka hadn’t believed it for a moment. This explained it. The evil
bastard had tried to get his own son, who had been thirteen, a year older than Aang, to fight
him in a fire duel. Sick fucking bastard.

He had not been expected to survive that fight, Sokka was damn sure of that. And if he were
to return home, even with the Avatar in chains, he was pretty sure he would be on borrowed
time.

“Don’t talk to him about it. Not unless he tells you,” he said. “He hasn’t even told me the
whole story. He needs to do it in his own time. It’s a personal trauma.”

She was looking at him again, with the same sad expression.

“Okay.”

Zuko was already in their bedroll when Sokka crawled into their tent. But he was awake, and
gestured for Sokka to join him, so he clearly wasn’t angry about the earlier fight. And
although he was confused about the best thing to do, Sokka also really wanted the comfort.
“Take your boots off,” Zuko said as Sokka bent to climb into their blankets. “You’re not
getting in our bedroll with shoes on.”

That made complete sense, but the thought of it made Sokka feel sick. “I can’t right now,
okay? I just can’t.”

“Sokka, you can’t get into the blankets with boots on.”

Sokka sat with a thump, staring at his feet. He was so tired, and so stressed. He didn’t think
he could give up even a fraction of the only armour he had. But keeping them on meant no
Zuko, and he offered a different sort of protection.

Sokka pulled them off. It made tingly, horrible anxiety shoot all over his body. Even Zuko’s
arms folding around him weren’t enough to stop him shaking.

“Tighter,” he said, and Zuko squeezed him, almost cutting off his breath. But it helped a little.
He hugged back, with his head tucked under his friend’s chin.

“Sokka,” Zuko said. It wasn’t a question. Just his name.

“I’m sorry for earlier.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not. Don’t let me hurt you. Don’t let me hurt anyone else, either.”

Zuko’s arms tightened around him a little more. “You wouldn’t.” He sounded so sure. But
then he was rather dense at the best of times. Perhaps he believed it.

“I attacked you.” Again.

He shrugged, dismissive, the movement jostling Sokka’s body. “I stopped you just fine.”

“Except for where I head-butted you.” He touched the puffy cut on his friend’s lip. Zuko
flushed, apparently embarrassed for letting him get a hit in.

“Do you want to try meditation? Like the ones my uncle taught me? I know it helps with the
re-livings a little, but perhaps doing it more often could help you?”

“Yeah, we could try. Doesn’t always work for your temper, though.”

Zuko snorted. “No, it doesn’t, but I’m better than I was before.” He fell silent, considering.
Sokka matched his breathing. It was calm, despite the tension he could feel in his body.

“I’ve hurt people who don’t deserve it,” Zuko said eventually. “Sometimes out of anger,
sometimes because of not thinking. Like your Grandma, or Kyoshi Island.” He looked really
pained. “When Suki and I...when she talked about it a bit, she said that is what made her
leave. She told me how people lost everything in the fires.” He stopped and took a shaky
breath. “I realised it wasn’t just an accident. It wasn’t even a thought. I just didn’t care.”
“You care now.”

“Yeah. But… even though I saw things differently about her village, it still never occurred to
me the harm I caused when I destroyed your village. Not really, not the people. I… I don’t
know what I’m trying to say.”

Sokka wasn’t entirely clear either, but he thought he meant that Zuko’s own actions
frightened him too, sometimes. That seeing the truth of the consequences was painful. It was
a pain he deserved, and needed to experience, but it just proved what Sokka already knew. He
was capable of empathising with his enemies, and was able to see where he was wrong. He
was just frightened by the vulnerability that it created.

“Your sister really hates me,” Zuko said, changing the subject, although straight onto another
complicated one. Sokka was grateful. He wasn’t really ready to sleep. For the quiet and the
thoughts of Yue that would follow.

“Nah, she’s mad at you. It’s different. You need to give her space to be angry, at you, at your
people. I’m just as angry with the Fire Nation, believe me, and sometimes my hate is much
more focused than hers.”

“What do you mean?”

“Before, if we were walking down a road, and saw a Fire Nation soldier bleeding, needing
help.” He paused, trying to order his thoughts. Probably being blunt was the best way
forward.

“Why is he bleeding?” Zuko asked into the quiet. It made Sokka want to smile.

“Irreverent.”

“Well, not really. It would be different if a moose lion had mauled him, or if he had been
fighting rebels, or just attacked a village and got stabbed, wouldn’t it?”

Zuko clearly understood where this was going and was prepared to complicate it to the point
they would be arguing about it all night. “I don’t know why he’s bleeding. Could be any of
the above, and I don’t stop to ask him, okay?” Sokka pressed on before any further objections
could be offered. “Back before, I would have walked on by, or killed him like we did Chen.
Because if he got better, he would just rejoin his unit and fight.”

“And now?”

“I don’t know. I might see the man under the armour. But…” But, his point still stood. One
less man to hurt his people. “What I do know is, despite her anger and hate, my sister would
heal him. She would be mad about it, but she would do it. Because that’s the kind of person
she is. And Aang would say that in healing him, we would show him who we are. Not just
faceless enemies, we would show that we have compassion and kindness, even if they don’t.”

“I don’t think it would make a difference if they’re well trained.”

“Me either, but I also know I’m a cynical, jaded, arsehole.”

Zuko smiled, a genuine, warm expression, and it made something in Sokka’s chest feel all
tight and tingly. “Me too, probably.”

“No, I don’t think so,” Sokka said. “I think you would stop, if it was a Water Tribe or an
Earth soldier.”

“I wouldn’t. At least, not before.”

Sokka wasn’t sure about that and wasn’t certain if he should argue his case or not.

“I think Toph would squash him,” Zuko said, derailing Sokka’s chain of thought.

“Yeah, probably. I don’t know what to make of her.”

“She’s blind,” Zuko said.

Sokka snorted into Zuko’s collar bone. “Do you really think so?” He started laughing, a little
strangled sound. “A stellar observation, captain obvious.”

“But she can see,” Zuko huffed.

“Katara said she sees through her bending.”

Zuko was silent for a while, apparently absorbing that. “How?”

“I don’t know. I’m not a bender. Ask her.”

Zuko looked grumpy at the idea of having to initiate conversation, but he was going to have
to learn. And he was going to have to learn to do it politely or she would probably bend him
through the floor.

Zuko began running his fingers over the shaved hair at the back of Sokka’s head, the motion
familiar and comforting. “Do you want to talk about it? About what happened to Princess
Yue?”

“No.” He wanted to shut his thoughts off so he could sleep. He wanted to cry and wail, but he
still felt like those emotions were behind a wall, or too deep to access. Perhaps if he did talk
it would help. But he didn’t want to. He wanted it to be yesterday, before he knew. A very
familiar feeling.

“It’s okay if you grieve for her. There’s no shame in it.”

“Shame? I should feel shame. I wasn’t there, Zuko. I should have been. Instead, I was busy
getting myself captured on a mission I knew was stupid. I knew it. They were unprepared,
with outdated information. I was trying to prove I was as good as her fiance. That I was a
man.” He laughed again, bitterly this time. “What kind of man did I prove myself to be? I
broke under torture. I cried every damn day. Let you get hurt right in front of me.”

Zuko’s fingers tightened where they rested on the back of his neck, and he shifted around
until they were face to face, sharing the folded blanket they were using as a pillow. “If I
hadn’t chased Zhao, tried to fight him, if I had stayed and helped my uncle, none of this
would have happened to me. If I had killed Zhao when we fought that Agni Kai…” He made
a frustrated sound. “I could go on all night, but what’s the point? What happened, happened.
We can only go forward. I don’t even know what I’m going forward for any more, but if I
stop trying, I don’t know what will happen to me.”

He pushed his face up against Sokka’s. It was awkward and hurt a bit where his friend’s
forehead was pressing against the bruise from his earlier head-butting. But it was a real,
tangible thing. Something that felt solid, in an evening where everything had felt like he was
trying to swim though honey.

Perhaps that was why the tears finally started to come. It felt like another wave of emotion,
this one red and jagged with horrible misery. It was so unfair that this had happened to her.
So unfair. And he felt like a shit for being so upset about what he’d lost, never mind what she
had given up. Her life, her future.

Zuko pulled him in tight against his chest. Solid and strong. And Sokka cried.

He didn’t know how long he had been weeping, but Zuko hadn’t moved, just held him, still
petting his hair like it was a cat. “Okay?” he asked, as Sokka allowed himself to calm
slightly. He was all snotty, and had left a damp patch against Zuko’s green sleep shirt. But he
felt a bit better, exhausted from the release of all the emotion, but a little lighter.

“I’m okay. I will be.” He rolled onto his back, using Zuko’s arm as a pillow, and stared up at
the roof of the tent. “I can’t believe my girlfriend turned into the moon.”

Zuko was silent for a long moment. “Well, technically, she turned into a fish,” he offered
eventually.

Sokka jabbed him with an elbow, hard. “Please don’t argue semantics right now, you
arsehole.”

Zuko curled around him, tucking his face into Sokka’s neck, and Sokka could feel his slight
smile against his skin. “Tomorrow then,” he said.

“Don’t threaten me, Sunshine.” Sokka could feel Zuko smile again, and it warmed him. But
sleep was still a long time coming.

……………….

Tu’s luck was… not good. It had never been bad before, just unremarkable. But since his dad
it felt like he was falling from one disaster into another.

He liked the freedom fighters. He enjoyed their company, and they had been very kind to
him. But he was, to put it lightly, playing with fire.
He had come round for the first time to hear them discussing his burning fever. He had lain
still and listened, trying to remember where he was, who he was. His body had hurt and
burned and ached. But he was alive. He vaguely remembered being rescued after escaping
from the prison. But not much else, so he had been quiet and listened. He was good at that.

They had been discussing the soldiers they had killed, people who had been hunting for
prisoners. Tu knew what hate sounded like. He thought he felt the same hate. But this was
something dangerous. And he didn’t have a fever. If he had one during his illness, it had
broken before he woke and his apparent improvement was just his normal body heat.

As he had remained with his eyes shut, it was hard not to startle at the touch of cool fingers
on his forehead, so he turned the twitch into a groan. He tossed his head a little, like Hua had
when they’d had the breakbone fever.

“Poor kid,” the owner of the hand had said. “He’s still burning up. We’ll give it another day
here, then we will need to move.”

“Can we fashion a litter or something for him if he’s not better by then?” Smellerbee had
said.

“Perhaps. I thought he was getting better. His temperature lowered a bit last night.”

There was something in the voice, a small edge of doubt, of suspicion, and Tu had known he
had to be clever. He had to break his ‘fever’ in the morning.

It was a long night, lying there, silent, waiting for dawn. Slowly leeching the heat out of his
skin and into the ground until he was cold and shivering.

It had worked. They had been happy when he woke. The owner of the other voice, Jet, had an
expression of slight relief when he had casually felt Tu’s forehead again, then touching his
arm and hand.

Just normal Earth Kingdom skin, cool and clammy from fear and the chilly morning air.

Jet frightened him, but also fascinated him. He was charismatic, warm and full of wild
fervour. Tu had met boys and girls like him before. They were the ones that held sway in his
classes, the ones the other students loved. And the ones who held the reputation of those who
were less well liked in their hands. Get on the wrong side of them, get noticed in the wrong
way, and you were in trouble.

But Jet didn’t trip him into the mud or make fun of him for being a little small for his age. He
liked him.

Tu didn’t know what to do with that. When Jet began teaching him what he could forage to
eat as he was still too weak and injured to help with hunting, he felt like he saw him. When
he slept with Smellerbee pushed up against his back, or when Longshot showed him how to
use a bow, even though he couldn’t draw it yet because of his shoulder injury, he felt good,
safe and hopeful. He felt like he might have a purpose, even if it was just finding berries and
helping cook the food for the evening.
He got swept up in the stories of the things they had done, the tree houses, the raids and
fighting. A gang of kids taking back what they had been robbed of. They had even met the
Avatar, although the details of that interaction were never really explained.

But he knew, all the time he knew, if they ever found out what he was, he would be killed
without a shred of remorse. Not for the first time he had cursed the Fire Nation, and his own
useless bending.

“We need to be careful when the rain really starts,” Jet said, squinting up at the sky, which
was looking overcast. “When we reach lower ground, these foothills could become
treacherous.”

“How so?” Tu asked, huffing a bit as he struggled to keep up with Jet’s long strides.

“Flash floods.” Jet knew a lot about everything, it seemed. “Seen it before, further east. The
terrain is similar on the other side of the river.”

Tu nodded, like he knew what he was talking about, and picked his way over the rocky
ground. Below them were valleys and green fields. It was a relief after the mountains, and
getting across the river. The boatmen had tried to rob them, which they had quickly regretted.
Jet was also very good with his hooked swords. “How will we get to Ba Sing Se if the ferries
are not working, and the paths are closed?” Tu asked.

“We’ll find a way. And if we can’t get into the city, perhaps we will meet up with other
people in the same situation. We could still help them, still find a place for ourselves. Make a
new life.”

A new life.

That’s all Tu could hope for. He dreamed about finding his sister alive, of rescuing his
mother. But how would he even do that? He couldn’t go back to the Fire Nation. He had no
idea where he was. He was not a skilled fighter, and his own people would kill him for being
a traitor and a deserter. He suspected he was a traitor at this point. He hated the army, and
everyone in it. The only nice soldiers he had met had been from the Earth Kingdom. He
thought about them often. He hoped Haoyu and Guo and the others had escaped, although he
was very worried that even if they had, Haoyu’s injuries might be too great. The thought of it
ate at him. But there was nothing he could do about it. All he could do was just try to survive.

Jet and the Freedom Fighters would kill him if they knew, but perhaps he could pretend.
Perhaps he could also find this new life in Ba Sing Se. Hidden. Forgotten.

That was easier said than done. It was hard not to bend; it was like a force that wanted to
come out, and you ended up doing it unconsciously. Lowing his temperature day and night
actually helped with that. It was sort of like bending in of itself.

“You have that scrunchy look on your face again, Tu,” Jet said with a smile. “What are you
thinking about?”

Tu flushed. “The soldiers in the camp. I hope they’re okay.”

“You said the Blue Spirit broke them out, right? So I’m sure they’re free.” He stretched a
little, bouncing on his toes. “Now, he is someone I would like to meet.”

Tu thought about the way the vigilante’s chi had looked, the chaotic power in it. He wasn’t
sure that it would be such a good team up in reality. But he shrugged. The Blue Spirit was far
away, doing whatever he was doing with the soldiers. Tu had more immediate things to worry
about.

“What about you?” Jet asked as they made their way down to where they had set the snares.
“You don’t talk much about yourself. Where you’re from and how you ended up here.” Jet
quirked one of his wild eyebrows. It didn’t sound or look threatening, but it made Tu
nervous.

“I told you. The Fire Nation killed my father, took my mother, and my sister disappeared.”
Thinking about Hua made him fill with anxiety. But he didn’t believe she was dead. Perhaps
it was wishful thinking, but he felt he would know if she had died.

“I’m sorry. They’ve taken so much from all of us.”

Jet looked so serious and so sincere, Tu’s heart clenched with guilt. “What do you want in
life, Jet?” he asked to steer things away from himself.

Jet took a long, slow breath, like he was having to bite back his first response. “What do I
want? To keep my friends safe. To help people.”

Tu nodded, but there was dark fire behind Jet’s eyes that made his heart race.

“You want revenge.” Tu didn’t think he himself did. He just wanted his family back, and then
to go somewhere far away from war and soldiers. He hated them, but he didn’t want to kill
them.

“I do. I want them to suffer like we have. I want to drive them from our lands. This?” Jet
dropped into a squat and poked at the dew damp ground. “This is ours. Not theirs. I want
them all gone, back to the fucking island they came from.”

“It’s a...” Tu snapped his mouth shut.

“It’s a what?”

“A chain of islands,” Tu said reluctantly. He really needed to watch himself. “It’s a chain. Not
just one.”

“Been there, have you?”

It was a joke, but it sent a shiver of fear up his spine. He missed not being afraid. “No, but
where I grew up, you had to go to a school that taught their history, geography. You know?”
he said carefully.

“Taught their stuff. Their history, their lies,” Jet spat, eyes blazing. His teeth were clenched
with fury.
This is what lived under the charisma and the helpful friendliness. It was frightening, but also
somehow inspiring. Tu was so emotionally battered by the past few weeks he thought he
might just curl up and die in a ditch left to his own devices. Jet was terrifying, but there was
something freeing in being caught in his slipstream. If Tu’s hate for what had happened to
him and his family was dry tinder, then maybe Jet’s was the spark, the ember that would set it
ablaze.

“Look,” Jet pointed. A hare marmot was snared in one of their traps. It was still alive and
twitching, its struggles exhausted. “Looks like a proper meal tonight!” All the fury was gone
like it had never been, packed away and replaced with the friendliness again.

Tu had never killed anything before the farmer he had burnt. He looked away as Jet took out
his knife, but he heard the small noise the little creature made as it died and it filled him with
a strange feeling of dread, even though his stomach was rumbling, and the thought of meat
was mouth watering.

Jet clapped him on the shoulder with the hand that wasn’t gory. “Come on, let’s get back. I’ll
teach you how to clean this, and we can roast it on a spit.”

“Okay,” Tu said. He took some deep breaths, and double checked his body temperature.

He couldn’t take his eyes off the blood still smeared on Jet’s fingers and knuckles.

……………

Azula stormed through the palace, not caring who saw her stalk down the corridors. The
audience with her father had been both what she expected, and still somehow a shock. All her
fears realised, crystallising into a vision of the future that was, at best, pretty bleak for her.

She was furious, terrified, and in complete emotional disorder. The Fire Lord would take a
wife. Azula would take a husband. Just as uncle predicted. Bastard. She didn’t know which
one she meant. Both of them, bastards.

Her father’s intention was to replace her as heir. The spectre of her marriage was just to keep
her in line until he was ready. Once his new bride popped out a few children, then he would
remove her. Permanently.

Of this, she now had no doubt.

If he thought for one moment that she would just allow this to happen, he was more foolish
than his son ever was.

She slammed into her rooms, the show of temper causing Hua to fall face first to the rug
when she entered. The door practically bouncing off its hinges.
She needed to calm herself, but she didn’t want to. She wanted to burn the whole palace
down around her father’s ears, wanted to hear the Fire Sages scream and beg. It felt like she
could hear it already, like there was wailing in her head.

She sat, took calming breaths, eyeing the girl on her rug. Ty Lee had taught Hua to change
her face with subtle make-up, altering the shape of it, and they had cut her hair shorter—not
indecently short of course, but different to the length it had been. No one had looked for her.

She had proved useful as a spy too. She seemed to have a knack for it, being so small and
unremarkable. “Do you bring me news?” Azula asked. Her voice came out colder than the
glacial waters of the north pole.

Hua pushed herself up, eyes still down. “Yes, your Highness.” She took a small sheaf of
letters from inside her robes and handed them over.

It took a few moments for Azula to even see through her anger. She opened the first. The
paper was flimsy, unrefined. Inside was another letter, this one on richer, stiffer paper. She
ran her fingers across the surface as she read the first one. A quickly scribbled message from
her man in the accommodation Iroh had taken residence in. The second letter was a message
intended for her uncle that had been intercepted.

Finally, something useful.

She flicked it open. It was just banal nonsense about tea, the weather, and Pai Sho. She
recognised the patterns in the words, though, a few phrases. It was not the first letter with this
cipher she had intercepted, although she had been unable to break it.

This was confirmation that the first one was also to do with uncle’s spy web. She tapped the
paper against her lips while she thought. She didn’t know if she could trust him. Against her
father? Yes, but for her best interests? He was clearly a man who had made a varied network
over the years and over many travels. Access to it would be very helpful indeed. But could
she trust him?

Did she have a choice?

She had the two letters, this tea letter, and the earlier one, not written in the same hand, but
clearly connected. Although that one had been about some sort of impressive bird from the
Earth Kingdom. If she gave Iroh the bird letter and asked him to translate the contents, could
she then use it to break the one intended for him? That might reveal something.

“Bring me my travel clothes,” she said. Hua rose and darted for the old chest in the corner of
her room that held some of her more frivolous robes. Under those were simple dark clothes
useful for traversing the rooftops. After mother had left, she and Zuzu would escape over the
roof and go into town, go to plays and eat sweet treats. Until they had been caught. Then her
brother had been too afraid, although they had continued to haunt the shadowed places of the
palace. Two little sprites, ears warm from hearing secrets not intended for them.

Zuzu may have given up the trips into town, but she hadn’t. Her ‘travel’ clothes were for
those occasions she didn’t want her father to know her business. His spies had never tracked
her yet, and she had visited Iroh in his lodgings several times.

She had to become calm before she left tonight. Emotion made you make mistakes, anger
most of all. And she couldn’t avoid any missteps while she figured out what needed to be
done. Her earlier show of temper had been very foolish. She took some deep breaths and set
aside her fantasy of burning the people behind this into ashes.

She rose to her feet and allowed the girl to help her change. “Do you have updates on the task
I set you?” she asked, as Hua helped braid her hair back.

“Yes, your Highness. We have people looking into Zhao. Every aspect of his life.”

Just hearing his name made Azula feel fury. She saw an answering snarl curling up the side
of Hua’s lips. He was the man who had killed her father and indirectly caused the death of her
brother. Although the girl wasn’t aware of her twin’s fate yet, Azula was holding that
information back. She might be able to use the boy’s desertion and death to her advantage at
some point. Azula had failed to find out the fate of Hua’s mother, and she suspected that was
a bad sign. All excellent reasons for the girl to hate Zhao.

“I intend to ruin him,” Azula said, and watched Hua’s face carefully; she looked fierce and
pleased.

“I will have all the information we have found ready for you on your return, your Highness.”

“Good.” Azula needed something other than Zuko’s letter and the knowledge of what Zhao
had done. Her brother lived, and that made using the information she had on Zhao
complicated. Zuzu was a wild card. She didn’t know if and how she would use him, but until
she did, she did not want her father to know what she knew.

She would keep Zhao’s lies as the last resort for blackmail against the admiral if she needed
it. She had every faith Zuko would stay alive and ahead of the man. He was nothing if not
tenacious.

The path out of the palace grounds was familiar, and the moon was hidden behind low cloud,
letting her pass like darkness over roof and wall and into the city.

When she slipped into Iroh’s rooms, the old fool was, of course, drinking tea. He was seated
among comfortable mismatched cushions and reading through a stack of scrolls. They looked
to be history from what she could see.

“Niece, how good of you to join me!” he said, gesturing to the small pile of pillows on the
floor on the opposite side of his small table. “You look distressed.”

Irritation rolled through her. If she looked distressed, her control was slipping. She ignored
his invitation, and instead leaned against the wall beside the window, out of view of anyone
who might be watching it.

“Do you have any news for me, uncle?” she asked. Her voice came out spiteful, but calm.
He looked at her, his friendly mask a picture of polite concern. “The more important question
is, do you have any for me? You spoke to your father?”

His spies seemed to be very well embedded. That news had reached him fast. She needed
them. “He will find me a husband and take a wife himself. He will see me again tomorrow.”
Even saying it felt like fire in her body. A tearing, burning feeling.

Iroh hummed, eyes narrow. “As we predicted. He will use competition for your hand to draw
in potential suitors and use their resources.”

“We have two years until I am old enough to do more than speak betrothal vows. A lot can
change in that time.”

“Indeed.” He looked a little concerned, and that worried her.

“So, I will ignore the indignity of being treated like chattel, and focus on the more pressing
problem,” she pressed on.

“If he produces another heir, your risk increases.”

“If he thinks I will stand by and allow that to happen, he is very much mistaken. A wife could
have an accident before she could ever come close to bearing children.”

Iroh didn’t give her the expected disappointed look, instead he shook his head. “Your father
will know this. He will try to find ways to mitigate it. And he will be watching you closely.”

She snorted. But he was right about the watching, at least. She didn’t think there would be
any mitigating. There was a sad, pathetic, Zuko-like part of her that hoped this was all a test.
That if she continued to be loyal and bring him glory, then he might realise his mistake. Even
if she had to take a husband, it would be worth it if he would just give her his trust.

Foolishness, of course. The Fire Lord never made mistakes. He certainly never admitted
them.

“Uncle, I want you to use your spies to find me anything useful on Tsing and Jianjun.” She
really wanted him to help look into Zhao as well, but the risk of him uncovering things about
Zuko was too great. She would have to rely on her own people for that.

Whoever her father chose for her marriage, she would be ready for them, she would be in
control, and she would use her knowledge as a weapon where it suited her.

She took the bird letter out of her robes and handed it to him. Iroh leaned across and took it,
his bushy eyebrows raising slightly. He read it with no change in his facial expression, then
smiled one of his foolish old man smiles. Those, she was quickly learning, hid the mind of a
clever man. Her father was right to be concerned about his brother being loose in the world.
“Ah! The Three Crested Fox Hawk. A rare and wonderful sight, I’m told,” he said.

“Do not play games with me, uncle. I am not in the mood. What does the letter say?”
He looked at her contemplatively for a long, uncomfortable moment. “It says that the Avatar
has been seen in the Earth Kingdom, in the town of Gaoling.”

“And?”

“That he has found an earthbending teacher, and he is travelling in the company of myself
and a waterbender. Aid should be given to them, should their paths cross that of the
recipient.”

“Who is?”

“I do not know. I suspect the name here is false. This is also second hand information, written
by an intermediary of some sort, who has gathered intel and is passing it on. I do not know
the author or the intended reader.”

She regarded him steadily. He had not translated line for line. That would make it hard for her
to break the second letter intended for him, but making him do so now might tip him off she
was holding something back. “I will crack this cipher, uncle. And when I do, I hope that you
have left nothing out. That would be very unfortunate.”

“I have not, my niece. As I have said before. I have thrown my lot in with you. I wish for you
to survive this war, and I hope for you to lead our nation beyond it.”

She would reserve judgement on that. “Have your spies find me the information I have
requested.”

“Will you also look into Zhao?” Iroh asked, pouring himself another cup of tea. The smell of
it was fresh, a little floral.

“I have that in hand, uncle. Focus on Tsing and his brat. They are far more likely to be his
choices.”

“Hmm. Yes, I agree. I also suspect there is much to be found. I know there were some issues
with Jianjun’s mother.”

“Her death?”

“Yes, but also his birth. She struggled to bear Tsing a child and became quite unwell with the
stress of it.”

The woman was always to blame for these things, when it was just as likely the man was at
fault. His first and second wife had been childless, too. “Perhaps his seed wasn’t strong, and
the wife had to look elsewhere for comfort?” she said, raising an eyebrow. That would be
entertaining.

“Unlikely, Jianjun looks enough like his father in his youth that if she had strayed from the
marriage bed, then it would most likely have to have been a relative of his, or a
doppelgänger.”
“Look into it, uncle. If he is unknowingly raising his nephew instead of his son, that is more
than enough ammunition to throw some oil on the fire.”

“I will look. And into his wife’s death. There were some unsavoury rumours surrounding it. I
believe the second wife died unexpectedly as well.”

She shuddered. She was not planning to be dead wife number four, and if Jianjun had
inherited his father’s attitude to marriage, then he would not survive the wedding night either.

“Azula.”

“Uncle Iroh.”

“Make contingency plans. There is no shame in running to fight another day. You will have
no throne, and no vengeance if you are dead or imprisoned.”

She bared her teeth in a smile. “You underestimate me, uncle. I will have both, and even if I
have to claw my way through flesh and fire to get them. Whatever it takes.”

It was sad and pathetic that despite those words, if her father offered her a seat at his right
hand, if he offered, she would still gladly take it. Husband or no husband. She thought Iroh
knew that too, from the sad, stupid look on his face.

Twenty-four hours later, she had reevaluated that stance. She didn’t think there was anything
her father could do to earn back her regard after this.

Mitigate. Iroh had said Ozai would try to mitigate the risk. If he thought this would stop her
murdering her new stepmother, he was a plain fool.

If she had been angry before, it was nothing compared to this. What she felt now was
seismic, volcanic. Her vision was blurring at the edges and she could barely keep herself
steady. She had remained calm in the face of her father’s announcement. Had been courteous
and even congratulated him on his choice. She wasn’t sure how convincing she had been. But
she knew if she was not controlled, her fate would be sealed before she devised a counter
move.

Azula found herself heading back to her uncle, breaking her own rules in seeing him so often.

She slipped into his room to find him alert, watchful.

“I’m going to take the throne. I’m going to depose him,” she said without preamble, her lips
curing up in fury.

“Indeed?”

She began to pace, avoiding the window. The old goat’s rooms were too small to really get a
good stalk going, but she needed to move or she would explode. “He is announcing his bride
tomorrow.” Her fingernails dug into the meat of her palms. The pain felt distant. “Mai, my
friend,” she snarled.

“Ukano’s daughter? She was betrothed to your brother, was she not?” Iroh said. His voice
was neutral, but there was a look on his face that suggested distaste.

“Not officially. If he thinks for one moment that I won’t kill the wretch because of some
imagined fondness I have for her, he is very much mistaken.” She could feel blood starting to
seep from her hands, dripping to the floor. Her nails were very sharp, after all.

Mai was hers, her friend. She belonged to Azula. How fucking dare he!

“Azula, you must calm yourself,” Iroh said firmly. “Do not take your rage out on the girl. She
did not choose this.”

Azula was trying very hard not to lose control of her fire. She never lost control. Or she had
not until recently, with the apparent death of her brother, and when she realised what her
father had planned for her, when things had started to slip.

She took some deep breaths.

Mai would not have equal standing to her, not yet. But it was close. Very close. The whole
situation was unbearable from multiple directions, and she wanted to claw something, rip into
it with her teeth. The feeling of teetering on the edge of losing herself was wild, the way she
had felt fighting the Avatar, back in New Ozai, with the wind tugging at her hair.

Just thinking of New Ozai, of Mai and her sycophantic, bootlicking parents made her want to
scream. “She will regret being born, uncle.”

“Yes, I rather think she will,” Iroh said, his eyes narrow and his voice hard. “She is a pawn of
her parent’s political desires. And she is going to be forced into a marriage with a man old
enough to be her father. A man who treated his first wife cruelly, who publicly mutilated and
burnt his own child. Believe me, she will find this punishment enough.”

Azula sneered at him. Fucking sentiment again. This time for a girl he barely knew.

He gave her another hard look in response. “Niece, you must think rationally. Think like a
general, not like your father.” He sat straight and set aside his scrolls, gesturing for her to join
him at the low table. He did not seem upset when she remained standing. “Instead of taking
your anger out on the girl, use your personal connection to her. Ozai thinks he has the
advantage, putting you in your place, stopping you killing her out of hand because she is a
childhood friend.” He poured himself tea. His cup was plain and boring, but the smell of his
brew was rich and calming. “Instead, he is putting one of your people in his council. In his
bed. Use it.”

He was right.

Her anger was draining out of her, leaving her feeling limp. The burning was gone. But the
hate remained.
Her father, Ozai, was going to replace her. But uncle was right, she did have an advantage he
didn’t understand. Mai might enjoy the power this gave her. She might learn to use it, but
right now, she would be upset and afraid. It was always going to be her lot to marry where
her parents told her, same as it was Azula’s, and Zuko’s, even. But to marry the Firelord, a
man who had caused great harm to his first family... Well, there was room there for Azula to
step in, to be a protector. Cement her loyalty.

And keep a close watch on her, to make sure she didn’t become with child. It would be
unfortunate for all involved if she did.

“I shall need help,” Azula said, carefully seating herself opposite Iroh and accepting the cup
he passed her. “You must give me your spies, uncle.”

He nodded, but more in acknowledgement than agreement. “I will utilise them on your
behalf. But I can’t ‘give’ them to you. I do not own them the way you do yours.”

“It seems foolish to leave things up to trust, uncle. They will turn on you.”

He hummed. It was an annoying sound. “I do not think so. Or if they do, then they will be at
risk from others in the circle. You need to think about finding people you can trust. Whose
ideas and needs line up with yours. The people that advocate for the war have no reason to
join you. They already have support from your father.”

Azula contemplated him for a long moment, but he didn’t seem uncomfortable with the
scrutiny. “I know you wish to stop the war, uncle. But your attempts to do so through me are
clumsy and unbecoming.”

Iroh smiled, settling back in his cushions, now she was calm again. “They are not clumsy. I
am being honest. You do not have the support to take the throne. Your father will not fight
you if you challenge him to an Agni Kai, not unless he is sure he will be the victor. You have
to win people to your side.”

She knew this. She didn’t like it when he told her something obvious, like he was imparting
wise knowledge to her. But she was keeping her cards close to her chest, so she could hardly
blame him. “I have a list of people who might be useful.”

He nodded, pleased. “And how will you approach them?”

“Threats or blackmail,” she said plainly. “I can’t trust them.” Hua was the only one she had
any actual certainty of, and although useful as a messenger and house spy, she didn’t have the
clout or the skills necessary. Azula needed more.

Uncle had a slightly long suffering look that she wanted to slap off his face. But there was
something very fond under it, which was not an expression she was used to being directed
towards her.

“Tell me their names. Perhaps I can give you perspective and advice, if I know them.”
She considered him carefully. At the top of her list was Zhao. She could use him, blackmail
him, before she ultimately killed him, slowly and with considerable relish. But she really
needed more information first, she had to be certain that she had him wrapped so tight there
was no way for him to turn on her or betray her to her father. He would certainly try. He
would twist and thrash like a fish on a hook. She was not going to tell Iroh of this plan yet,
though. Only if it started to come together. “There is a man looking into admiral Zhao,” she
said instead. “I could use the information he has found.”

“His name?”

“Captain Kazuma. One of Tsing’s men. Although I understand the old bastard is not too
pleased with him at the moment.”

There were several reasons she would need to have a word with this captain. He was also
looking into the Blue Spirit on Tsing’s orders, and that was a pot of worms she would like to
keep closed at the moment. It was her father’s current belief that Zuko had not been the
original Blue Spirit, but had used his identity to commit his treason. This theory was held up
by the fact their father couldn’t comprehend Zuko being competent at something, not
firebending whilst fighting, and the fact the raids were still ongoing.

Azula was coming to realise sometimes her father was really quite stupid. Iroh too. He
seemed to think the current raids were carried out by a copycat.

Iroh was looking at her again. That weighing, judging look. “I have not met the man,” he said
after a moment. “But I know of him. He is the friend of a friend, you might say, and I do not
believe blackmail is the best way forward.”

“Really? Because I suspect the opposite. I have enough to ruin him.” Men with secrets were
easy to control.

“You can always use blackmail as a short-term stopgap. But people are unpredictable. Some
would murder their mother to keep a dark secret hidden, and others would go to the gallows
rather than turn against their lord or people.”

“Folk do stupid things for those they love, uncle.” It was what made them so weak. “He
remains in contact with a woman from the western province of Shuhon Island, who I believe
to be his sister. He may not buckle under threat to himself, but he has taken great measures to
keep his family name out of his life.”

Iroh’s mouth pulled tight. “Azula, listen carefully.” He ignored her narrow-eyed look at his
tone. “You will gain this man’s cooperation using blackmail. But it won’t last. I know enough
about him to tell you that. If you ask him to commit treason, he will baulk, whatever the
consequences.”

She kept her mouth shut as he spoke, but it was hard not to point out that was what murder
was for. She would only need him for a short time, after all.

“What will you have to gain from ruining his sister? Nothing. But perhaps if you can
persuade him… you can use your blackmail to hold him long enough to find out your
 information. But to turn him? That will be a longer game, but it may be worth it.”

Azula couldn’t see why. She needed to know what he knew. She could use him for a few
weeks, then get rid of him. “They should have called you Iroh, prince of hearts.” She didn’t
hide her scorn. “You wish to protect your friend’s friend.”

Annoyingly, he chuckled. “I wish to protect you, and utilise people efficiently to do it. No,
the Dragon of the West is a more accurate name. You are skilled in manipulation and finding
weak spots to exploit. But it would do you well to learn persuasion. Sometimes a blunt
instrument is not what is needed. Sometimes you need both carrot and stick.”

She deeply disliked that he was right, and that he was telling her something she already knew
again. It is what had secured Hua’s loyalty. Taiju’s even. Gratitude, perceived kindness.

But the more she learned, the better her chances, even though it grated on her. Even the stray
thought reminding her of her father and his upcoming wedding made the irritation
worthwhile.

But then, he wasn’t the only one that had secrets to share. From their discussions, she wasn’t
sure how much he knew about the events of the night he was passed over by his father. She
smiled, probably not a kind expression. “Let me tell you a story, Uncle,” she said.

Chapter End Notes

There has been some amazing art, stories and playlists produced this past month, please
take a look and give them some love!

The talented and extremely prolific Amisti has produced a shocking amount of amazing
art, which can be found Here Here Here Here Here and they have produced wonderful
speed paintings for most of them, the links start here Here

Please also take a look at this wonderful art by lavilicious:

Shen Suffering because Zuko: Here

Katara suffering in a different way, also because Zuko: Here

And Bestkage drew a beautiful Kazuma Here

And a draft of some fabulous art here Here

The All’s Fair discord has also produced and incredible Zine celebrating Sokka’s
birthday.
Link Here
– some of the stories are also linked on ao3 at the end of the fic.

The zine includes art, playlists poetry and fic, it is amazing and well worth a
read/watch/listen!
special thanks to: amisti, Ontrabbandiera-di-elia, Mara, wylinka, lavilicious and Tuktuk

The link also contains a downloadable version with alt-text, image descriptions, and text
labels for screen-reader users.

If I missed you out, or if you have anything you would like linked on the next chapter,
please let me know and I will add you in.

Thank you all for sharing your wonderful talented work – it is amazing!

Next chapter: Katara deals with the fallout of the day before, and is increasingly
concerned about her brother, while the boys indulge in some poetry. Shen, Suki and
Dumpling prepare to rejoin Huang, and try to plan for possible repercussions. And
Kazuma suffers a series of nasty surprises.
 Chapter 28
Chapter Summary

“You stop arguing with me!”

Chapter Notes

Warnings: Terrible poetry, including some humorous references to bestiality (not a

warning I was expecting to ever have to add) and sex. Very vague references to possible
non-con involving children, Internalised homophobia and thoughts about very victim
blamey and ugly attitudes towards SA survivors. Brief reference to suicide.

Many thanks to my beta burkesl17, who has managed to wrangle my dyslexic nonsense.
All mistakes are my own.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

They were closing in on Huang. Shen was feeling a little conflicted about it. A lot conflicted.
On one hand, it was his duty to return, and to bring as many of these men with him. He was
quite looking forward to handing over some of the responsibility for feeding and protecting
them. On the other, he wasn’t looking forward to what might happen when he reached
Huang’s army. It was going to be complicated, he was not just bringing men, he also had a
growing ragtag band of civilians, women, children and people with dubious heritage. He had
no idea what was going to happen to them. That was a responsibility he did not want to hand
over to someone for whom he had little trust left.

He thought Wei might be his trump card there, he was as obligated as Shen regarding the
civilians. Although his opinion on the mixed folk was perhaps less positive, he still clearly
felt like they were under his protection, but unlike Shen, Wei had the rank to actually look out
for them.

Shen’s own fate was a lot less certain, and he doubted Wei would have his back when it came
to it. He would have had his support before, but the commander had not been pleased to have
lost Zuli and Sokka. Which just cemented in Shen’s mind that he had done the right thing
getting them out of camp when he had.

They had managed to hide the boys’ absence until the evening meal, when Wei had asked
directly, and Shen had told him.
There had been a moment of real anger in the older man's eyes. “You don’t have the authority
to decide something like this, Captain Shen,” Wei had said.

“You gave me authority to lead, have trusted my judgement. The kids needed to leave, I
decided that was the best thing for them. They are my boys, not part of the army. What’s your
interest? To keep them safe?” His tone had made his disbelief clear.

Wei was a very intimidating man when he wanted to be, and he had stared Shen down with
hard, unforgiving eyes. “Do not take me for a fool, Captain Shen. I saw the Blue Spirit fight,
and I saw him injured.”

“Coincidence.”

“Do not try my patience. We will send men back along the river and retrieve them.”

Shen had been sure that he would. But while he was concerned about Wei’s intentions
towards Zuli, one thing he was absolutely certain of was the commander’s dedication to the
Earth Kingdom. His concern for the mission, their fight, out stripped anything else.

“When the boys rescued me from Lao Fort, Sokka discovered some plans that might mean
disaster for Ba Sing Se.” Shen had pulled out the copies he had painstakingly, and rather
poorly made of the schematics Sokka had shown him. The kid had helped him, but his efforts
at drawing had been even worse than Shen’s. Still, they were good enough to be useful. “I am
taking these to Huang and Hakoda, so they know what we are facing. Sokka is heading to the
city, to show the Earth King, or at least someone who can help.”

Wei had taken the slightly wrinkly pages, scribbled on the back of some lost merchants’
inventory. “His chances of surviving the journey, and gaining entrance to the city reduce
significantly without Li.”

Wei had watched him for a long, painful moment. Then he had smiled, a small twist of the
lips that had not reached his eyes. “Well played, Captain Shen. For an uneducated man, you
have a good head on your shoulders.”

Shen bowed, perfectly respectful, although he felt anything but. “I may have been born in a
barn, but I was raised in the army, Commander Wei.”

“I hope you don’t live to regret your choices, Captain. I hope they don’t impact your men,
who you have given up so much for.”

That had been a veiled threat he hadn’t appreciated, but it was an expected one. Since then,
Shen had spoken to all his men individually and as a group. Made them promise to keep
themselves safe while it was in their power. If he was punished for his actions when they
reached Huang, they must not protest. They needed to allow themselves to be reassigned—
there were not enough men left to make a unit, anyway. It was all he could do for them.

Guo had once again urged him to desert, but he couldn’t do that. The army was who he was.
If they kicked him out, that was one thing, but he couldn’t betray them. There was a part of
him that couldn’t imagine they would actually do it, considering all he had given them.
He did his rounds of the camp, leaving Haoyu and the other injured for last. The boy was out
of danger, and his amputation had been healing well. Being so close to rejoining the others, it
had seemed like the right time to tell him about the fate of the rest of the 54th. About Yuxuan.
He hadn’t asked in all the time since the rescue, so there was probably a part of him that
knew.

He had still taken it hard. And Shen had worried that he was going to lose hope entirely,
something that could be as dangerous as an infection could have been, in its own way.
Especially as he was still grappling with his own future, given his situation.

Suki had suggested giving him a task, some responsibility to feel useful. So they had moved
her friend Jing into his wagon, and asked him to keep watch over her. The girl was still
stubbornly clinging to life despite all expectations.

It had worked. Haoyu was dedicating himself to her care. Qinwen seemed to be fully on
board with this plan, teaching him how to change the dressings on Jing’s wounds and letting
him comfort her through her moments of lucidity. He thought it had also eased a little of
Suki’s emotional burden.

After checking in on them, he left them both sleeping under Qinwen’s watchful eye. She
would help when they reached Huang too. She had an authority he would be hard pressed to
challenge.

When Shen finally made it back to the section where the 54th was camped, Suki was
laughing at something Guo had just said. The older man had a pleased look on his face at the
sound of her giggles. Shen could feel his own spirits rising too as he approached.

“Shen!” Suki said through her laughter. “Guo was just sharing some of your poor romantic
decisions. Did you really sleep with a senior officer’s wife?”

Shen sighed. Of course, they were laughing at him. He mostly failed to hold back his
answering grin. There was a lot to mock in this particular area. He may as well accept he was
in for a proper raking across the coals. “I didn’t know she was his wife!” he said, as Muyang
shuffled over so Shen could sit between him and Suki.

“Didn’t stop when you found out, did you?” Guo said in his rough voice. He was aiming for
scornful, but there was far too much humour in it.

“Well, no, but he’d had it in for me for weeks up to that point, and I didn’t know why. Turns
out she wasn’t being very subtle about her interest.” He shrugged. “When I realised, I carried
on for the same reason as she did.”

“Which was?” Suki had both her eyebrows raised about as high as they could go.

“Spite.” Fuck, he had never had so many thrashings and punishments for the smallest of
infractions as he’d had during those few weeks. It had probably helped him become a better
officer in the long run. He’d had to be completely by the book and present himself as a
perfect soldier to avoid them. Even then, the bastard had found things to write him up for.
Realising why he was being such an arsehole, had made Shen feel a lot better, and made it
kind of worth it. It had been a scandal, though, and eventually he and Shuo had both been
transferred to keep the peace.

“Shen has a history of terrible choices,” Guo continued relentlessly. “There were those
cousins during that action close to the Hu Xin Provinces.”

Shen groaned.

“Cousins?” Suki sounded both delighted and appalled at the same time.

“I didn’t know!”

“This seems to have been a theme for you, Shen.”

Shen rolled his eyes as dramatically as he could. “It sounds worse than it is. They were in
different units, I didn’t realise they were related until the three of us met up, and they got in a
fight.” He shrugged again, taking a drink from the cup of watery broth Muyang handed him.
“It’s not like I was cheating or lying or anything. They both knew I was still seeing other
people. It was something we discussed right from the start. It was just unfortunate that... you
know.”

“The other people were family members? Yeah.” Muyang said, grinning from ear to ear.

“Have you ever had a relationship that wasn’t a disaster?” Suki’s eyes were dancing. It was
good to see her so entertained and light-hearted. The past few days had been hard on her.

“No,” Guo said, the fucker.

“I’ve never really had a relationship-relationship. I joined up when I was your age, younger
even. Never really been in the same place long enough to meet someone marriageable, and
relationships within a unit aren’t allowed.” A very sensible rule. It didn’t stop it happening of
course, but as Shen had moved up the ranks, he had made a point that this was a regulation he
wouldn’t break. “So there have just been people I’m friends with who I also fuck. Um,
sorry.” He glanced at Suki.

She sighed. “Please don’t watch your language on my account. You cussed plenty in front of
the boys, why should I be any different?”

“Good point,” he agreed, giving her a friendly nudge. He was shit at moderating his
language, even in front of officers.

“Any other terrible choices?” Suki asked, sipping from her own slightly dented mug of broth.
“Even slept with the enemy?” She wagged her eyebrows. Apparently, she was never going to
drop the thing with Capitan Kazuma. He could see why, as the other man’s reaction had been
pretty funny. Foreboding, aloof firebender, becomes sexually confused, sacred rabbit with
one predatory advance. Shen had, at least for a moment, enjoyed that look. It had made him
feel in control of a situation that was completely terrifying to him.

If he had been alone, or even if Zuli hadn’t rescued them, then he would have gone ahead
with his plan as best he could, however much the idea of sleeping with a firebender
frightened him. Kazuma’s reaction to him had in many ways eased a little of that fear, despite
the power imbalance.

Guo was eyeing him slightly. He knew Shen’s history, and the incident he had described to
Sokka, but that was no one’s business and he had no plans to share it. “Nah,” Shen said. “I
may make poor choices, but not stupid ones.”

“They were all stupid, Shen,” Guo said. “Doing stupid shit is part of your charm.”

“With all the evidence presented, I don’t think I can really refute that. But can we please stop
discussing my sex life with a twelve-year-old?”

“I’m sixteen.” Suki dug a sharp little elbow into his ribs.

“Same thing, it’s only like two years’ difference.”

“Maths isn’t really your strong suit, is it?”

He really, really liked Suki. She was a source of joy amongst the anxiety he was carrying
with him at the moment. “If you’re so keen to discuss romantic disasters, was there
something going on between you and Sokka?” he asked, raising his own eyebrow. He wasn’t
certain of the ins and outs of the three kids’ relationship, but he was pretty sure it was
amicable enough for a little teasing.

She wheezed as she laughed. “Spirits,” she said. “Yeah, way back, but I think that ship has
more than sailed, don’t you?”

“Yeah, well, it’s hard to say. I don’t think I would like to get in the middle of whatever the
boys have going on if I were you, though,” Shen said. Muyang laughed beside him, but he
could see Guo had an expression that was half humour, half wince, clearly thinking about
firebending teenagers. Shen repressed his own shudder at the thought.

Suki giggled again. “You don’t know the half of it. Sokka seems to be under the impression
Li is courting me.”

Shen put his head in his hands as he chuckled. “I know that boy is smart, I’ve seen him be
smart, but I’m still at a loss over this one. What a dumbass.”

“I know!” She looked full of good humour at her friend’s expense. “At some point, he’s
going to get hit with the reality that he is dating Li, and I honestly don’t know how it will fall
out.”

“Glad I’m not the one that’s going to have to explain that to Hakoda,” Guo said, with a wry
twist to his lips.

Shen snorted. “Hakoda is going to have to suck it up. I’m sure he could have a worse son-in-
law.”

“Not sure about that,” Suki muttered, but she was still smiling. “You going to fight him for
Zuli’s honour?” She seemed disproportionality amused by the idea.
“Sure, why not?” Not like any other adult was volunteering.

They stayed and talked a little longer, enjoying the warmth of the easy camaraderie. But they
had to be up early to start the last trek before they met up with the army.

“Walk me back, Shen?” Suki asked.

He stood and stretched. “Of course.”

They headed out into the camp, and Suki tugged on his sleeve. “Let’s stop by the stables. We
owe it to Li to spoil his baby a little in his absence.”

Dumpling did not need spoiling. She was already spoiled beyond reason. But he was more
than happy to indulge Suki.

The ‘stables’ were just a small clearing with a haphazard tarp strung between trees giving a
little shelter if it rained, the birds were corralled with ropes, but were otherwise free to
wander in their makeshift paddock.

Dumpling approached as soon as she saw them, her countenance as angry as always. Suki
reached out and gave her a little scratch, which she seemed to appreciate. Shen held out his
own hand and she promptly bit it.

“Fuck! Evil beast,” he told her, cradling his smarting fingers. She looked pleased.

“Aw, Dumpling, do you miss Li?”

She gave a small hiss that could mean anything, but Suki cooed at her and scratched the area
where the beak became plumage. The bird rumbled happily, and Shen glared at her.

“You and the rest of the 54th seem tense,” Suki said, giving him a sideways glance as
Dumpling nudged at her hand in an effort to get her to scratch an itchy spot. “More tense than
I would expect as you’re returning to your army.”

The night was mild; the wind held at bay by the clusters of trees. Shen watched the leaves
sway as he chewed at his lip and debated telling her his concerns. He didn’t want to worry
her, but he supposed forewarned was forearmed.

“Rescuing my men went against both orders and sense. It put Huang’s whole mission at risk,”
he said, taking his life into his hands to pet the bird again. This time she allowed it, albeit
with a certain begrudgement. “If I had been captured, then the outcome could have been a
disaster for everyone. I took precautions, but even so, risking an entire city for fifteen men is
at best a court marshalling offence.”

“And at worst?”

“If it's phrased a certain way? Treason,” he said reluctantly.

She dropped her hand from Dumpling and turned to face him. “What the fuck, Shen. Are you
telling me you could be executed when we get to the camp?”
“It’s very unlikely, but it is a possibility. It wouldn’t benefit anyone, really. The troops
wouldn’t be happy with it, even if Huang was. He doesn’t like me much.”

He had, before Zuli. But that was a bridge he had burned when he chose a half-breed brat
over his commanding officer. A boy who it turned out might be fully Fire, and was certainly a
bender. Fuck, what a mess. He couldn’t bring himself to regret it, though.

“We need to think of a plan, Shen.” He thought she was one step away from stamping a foot
at him.

“No,” he said firmly. “What you are going to do is take your girls and Haoyu to Chief
Hakoda and stick to him. He will look after you if things get ugly.”

“I don’t need looking after, and I’m not going to sit back and let you be executed.”

Shen shook his head. “It won't come to that. It’s far more likely I’ll get a flogging and be
court marshalled. Demoted to the ranks. I’ve had a lot of floggings in my career. I'll be fine.”

Although not since making captain. He wasn’t looking forward to the humiliation of it. The
pain he could take. Huang was probably going to make it count, though. But he couldn’t hold
it against the man. It’s what he needed to do. What Shen had done was against regulations for
a reason, and it had to be discouraged, he had to be punished for it, and he had to be seen to
be punished. If he was in Huang’s position, he would do the same without question.

He still wasn’t looking forward to it. He had been telling the truth about the flogging, but he
was afraid of what would happen after, even if it was just demotion and being sent to the
front. There were plenty of worse options, though. Imprisonment, exile, execution. But there
was nothing he could do about it but wait and hope the man would be lenient.

A second ostrich horse sidled up in the hopes of treats and they watched as Dumpling
savaged him, fluffing her feathers and doing an angry little dance as he scuttled back.

“What did you mean when you said you took precautions?” Suki asked.

Shen shrugged. “I took poison with me.” He patted the pocket where he was still carrying the
small packet. “If I was captured, I could ensure I didn’t get a chance to let anything slip under
the question.”

She looked appalled, but it was obvious she understood. “That man, Ro, he tortured you.”

“Yeah. But he only had me for a short time. It wasn’t so bad—but it would have been. What
he did to the boys...” He shuddered. Even thinking about the moment he had realised who it
was that was holding him sent fear up his spine. He had known the depths the man was
willing to sink to for his own pleasure. If he’d had the chance, he would have taken poison
rather than endure it. He suspected Tsing’s questions wouldn’t have been much fun either, but
Ro was somehow more frightening.

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” Suki said, putting a small hand on his arm and squeezing.
“It’s okay. It’s over. Now we just have to deal with what’s ahead. Promise me you’ll be
sensible, Suki. Do not risk your girls for my sake. Stick with Hakoda. I trust him more than I
do my own people at the moment.” And wasn’t that a bitter pill to swallow. “If for some
reason, Hakoda is no longer with them, Captain Long is decent, if a bit uptight. Avoid Yao.
He’s a dick.”

“Noted. This is the same Yao whose sash you sewed a fish head into?”

“That’s the one.” Good times.

They gave Dumpling a last pat, and Shen snuck her a few mouthfuls of grain he really should
be putting in the pot rather than feeding to a bad tempered bird. Then they began the walk
back to the women’s camp at a measured pace, keeping their voices low.

“What will you do, Suki?” Shen asked. “Are you going to stick with the group, or go after the
boys?”

She was quiet for a long moment. “I don’t know. My responsibility is to my warriors, but I...
I feel like I’m needed elsewhere, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Shen missed the kids, even with all the trouble they had brought him.
He lay awake at night worrying about them. Had they made it through the mountains? Had
they made the city yet, or were they still travelling? Had Ro followed somehow? Or had they
met some other danger? There was nothing he could do but worry, no way to help them now
they were out of reach. But he hoped to every spirit in existence that they were well.

…………………..

The feeling in the group as they walked was worse than it had been yesterday, tense in new
and unpleasant ways. Katara knew some of that was from her, her anxiety and confused anger
rolling off her in waves.

What had happened with Sokka last night had frightened her in a way she hadn’t ever
anticipated. She had never seen him act like that before, not ever. He lost his temper
sometimes, and occasionally got into fights, but those incidents had never been anything like
what had happened when he found out about Yue. He had been so angry, so uncontrolled. It
had been shocking.

Although she had yelled at Zuko to stop holding him down, she knew if he hadn’t, then
Sokka would have attacked him, might even have hurt him. She could understand her brother
was grieving Yue, could understand how part of that was furious anger, but this had been
something far beyond that.
They had chosen a campsite close to water again, this time a large, slow-moving pool, where
the tributaries gathered, having sprung down from the mountains. It was fed by a number of
short waterfalls before continuing its journey as a wider river. It was beautiful, almost serene.
But even now, there was a feeling of disconnect and tension. Everyone was avoiding talking
about what had happened, and it felt horribly uncomfortable.

“Let’s go wash!” Aang said, breaking the thick tension and stretching his back, before
hopping out of his shoes and pants, tugging his shirt clear and chucking it in the general
direction of their camping gear.

Washing sounded amazing to Katara, and working with the water calmed her, made her feel a
little stronger. She began to strip to her underclothes and then paused. She had forgotten
Zuko. How she had forgotten the current bane of her existence, she wasn’t sure. She eyed him
suspiciously in case he was watching her in a way she might need to drown him for, but he
was just feeding Momo something from his pockets, while the traitor lemur sat on his
shoulder and chittered happily at him.

“Are you two coming?” Aang asked, pointing towards the lake.

Sokka looked up from where he was taking inventory of their food for the third time since
yesterday. “Nah, maybe later,” he said after a short pause.

Zuko glanced in the direction of the water with an expression on his face that looked a little
like longing. “Later,” he agreed, barely glancing at them before squatting down beside Sokka.

“Momo, you need to wash too,” Aang insisted. “You’ll get all itchy and smelly.”

Katara decided Aang’s attempts at subtlety were not enough. “You stink. Both of you. I can
smell you from here,” she said. The combination of hard travel and teenage boy was a potent
one.

Sokka gave her a look. “Later. I have very important things to do. You guys go ahead.”

“Leave the stinkers to it,” Toph said. She had dumped her clothes in a pile and Katara glared
at them with distaste. They also needed a wash. Desperately. But getting Toph to actually
clean her stuff was a challenge.

“We need to do laundry,” she said in a no nonsense tone.

“Why? It will smell again in a few days.” Toph was often very predictable.

“Then we will wash again in a few days!” Sometimes it really felt like she was constantly
herding cats. She remembered her brother telling her that once, before the North Pole. In that
instance, it was because of her insistence on helping Haru’s family by getting arrested. But
she felt she could kind of relate to what he had meant now.

“If you wash your stuff, Zuko can dry it,” Sokka said, still looking at their dwindling supplies
like staring at them could make them last longer. “Firebending is surprisingly useful for some
things.”
Zuko looked annoyed at being volunteered for such a menial task, which made Katara more
determined to make him do it. He didn’t argue, though, just scowled at Sokka fiercely,
something her brother easily ignored.

“Clothes later, people now!” Aang said. “Last one in the lake does the washing!” He took off
at a speed that was definitely cheating.

Not to be outdone, Katara also began to run, the dirt hard under her bare feet. She was faster
than Toph, even though the other girl had a head start. But then the horrible little earthbender
started propelling herself forward using the ground, also like a cheating cheater, so as the
pool came into view, Katara slowed just enough to form a lunge and pull some of the water
towards them, Aang dodged, but she got Toph right in the face.

Retaliation was swift, and Katara went flying as the ground shifted under her. She hit the dirt
and pulled the water from the soil in the same motion, sending Toph tumbling again. They
both ended up in a laughing, muddy mess, while Aang cackled and flung more water at them.
It felt good, like a breath of air, after months of tight restriction.

“Actually,” Toph said through her grin, with mud dripping down her chin. “We all win. The
boys are the last ones in. They get to wash and dry.”

Katara grinned back at her, even though she couldn’t see it.

Her good humour evaporated slightly as she cleaned the dirt off herself. The water was
soothing, restorative. But the nagging worry was starting again. Why had Sokka refused to
bathe with them? The obsessive inventory could wait. He always enjoyed splashing about
and had a competitive streak a mile wide. Zuko maybe didn’t feel comfortable, which was his
problem, but Sokka?

She wasn’t stupid. He was hiding something. Injuries perhaps? He had been captured for a
month, anything could have been done to him. What had happened?

“Why wouldn’t he at least join us for a bit?” she asked out loud, only half to herself.

“Perhaps they just want alone time?” Aang suggested.

“They have alone time cuddling in their tent all night,” Toph said. She was barely waist deep,
and always flatly refused to go further, but she was washing herself, so Katara counted that as
a win.

Aang grinned at her. It was a warm, joyful expression that Katara had really missed seeing
since Appa was taken. Even so, she ignored them. “I can understand if Zuko is weirdly
prudish or something, but...” she trailed off.

“Unlikely,” Aang said, vigorously washing under one arm and giving himself a little sniff.
Apparently, her comment about stinky boys had struck a nerve. Although it most certainly
wasn’t just the boys who were smelling a little ripe, she could smell herself just as strong.
“Communal bathing is normal in the Fire Nation,” Aang continued, apparently satisfied with
his washing skills.

“Huh. Well, that makes it even more suspicious.”

“I’m sure they will let us know when they’re ready,” Aang said, and Katara frowned at him
slightly. He was nosy. He liked to know stuff almost as much as she did. Why would he not
want to find out the problem?

Obviously, the answer was that he didn’t want to, because he was enjoying his ignorance, just
feeling happy at their return. Katara wished she could feel that way. But the worry weighed
on her, different to how the grief had.

And the grief didn’t seem to have gone. When she woke, she still had that heavy dread. It
dissipated a little when she remembered Sokka was alive (and cuddling a firebender a few
feet away) but there was always something of it lingering; it felt like something heavy around
her ankles, dragging at her heels.

She didn’t know how she could get free of it.

Clean, and dressed in her only spare tunic, Katara began to prepare for the evening. She
needed water to cook. Sokka and Zuko had headed off for their own wash, as promised, and
she felt she had given them more than enough time to allow for private bathing. She dithered
for a moment before she picked up the pot and made her way down towards the bank. She
had only gone a few steps when she realised the other two were following her.

“What?” Toph asked. “You’re the only one allowed to be snoopy? Anyway, we need to fill
our drinking water.” She held up her water skin and waved it in small, jerky, Toph like
movements.

Katara could hardly tell them to give Sokka privacy when she was about to intrude on it. But
it did make her doubt herself. What if they hadn’t finished washing? If they wanted full
seclusion, then she didn’t want to take that away from them, but they needed water for the
jook, or dinner would never get made. If they put it off much longer, it would be hours before
they managed to bed down for the night, and they needed sleep if they were going to be
marching all day again.

She decided that announcing themselves loudly was the best option. But she made her way
through the undergrowth quietly, habit making her footfalls soft. They were approaching the
pool from its furthest end, hidden by overhanging foliage.

She paused when she heard their voices. It seemed to come from slightly above them. They
were speaking normally, not in whispers, and there was no splashing. It seemed like they
were sitting on the rocks above a small waterfall that was cascading down into the pool.
Perhaps they were just hanging out, having alone time, like Toph and Aang had teased. She
paused, listening.
“Proper haiku isn’t just about the syllables,” Zuko was saying.

“Sunshine, the rules of poetry are made to be played with!” Sokka replied, his voice light and
teasing. “Here, I’ll tell one based on our lives.” He cleared his throat dramatically.

“Peace falls in sunlight

Fetch water from the river

The shouting begins.”

“Are they reciting poetry?” Toph whispered close to Katara’s ear. The sound of the water
splashing into the pool making her barely audible.

“Did he just call Zuko Sunshine?” Katara asked faintly. Sunshine? Zuko? Aang made a
cooing noise, and she glared at him for a moment, distracted.

Above them, Zuko grunted in annoyance. “You think you’re funny and a poet? Anyone could
write something so simple.”

“Go on then, captain critic, give it your best shot.”

Zuko was silent for a moment, thinking.

“As dark clouds gather

Ready for late spring showers

Poor poetry reigns.”

His gravelly voice was tart with irritation, but Katara thought there was humour in it too. A
strange thing to recognise in the prince.

“Oh, ouch,” Sokka said. “Them’s fighting words. Okay, how about this: There was a fine
man from Gaoling-”

“This is already not haiku.”

There was the sound of one person lightly smacking another. “It’s a different, equally
beautiful form of poetry, Zuko. Shut up and listen.”

Zuko sighed loudly through his nose, but Sokka ignored him.
“There was a fine man from Gaoling

Whose belly was always a growling

But when he asked for meat,

It was the kind that you beat

And now his poor stomach is howling.”

Katara wasn’t entirely sure she understood that, but it sounded awful. Very Sokka, and it
made her feel a strange mix of longing and affection. She had missed him so much, but the
ache was still there, like his return hadn’t filled the hole his loss had left.

“That’s terrible,” Zuko said. “And I will have you know, the sailors on my ship loved these
stupid rhymes. I know plenty.”

“Go on then, give me one.”

“There was a young man from Yu Dao

Who liked to have sex with his sow

She went in for a lick

And bit off his dick

He really should have gone for the cow.”

Katara felt her ears go warm. That one she had understood.

Sokka started laughing. It was warm and genuine, and the sound was one of the best things
Katara could remember hearing in months. She could forgive Zuko a lot for getting her
brother to laugh like that.

“Wouldn’t the cow have been just as bad?” Sokka asked. “Aren’t they virtually the same
thing, anyway?”

Another loud sigh. “No, Sokka. All types of cow related animals are herbivores, except for
the pig-cow, the female of which is referred to as a sow, rather than a heifer or a cow. Pig-
chickens, pig-sheep, pig-cows and all other variations are omnivores. They eat meat as well
as plants.”
“How do you know all this crap? You been secretly planning to take up farming?”

“No, I read a lot of stuff when Avatar hunting. Some of it was interesting.”

“Our versions of interesting differ a little there, buddy.” Like this wasn’t the kind of nonsense
Sokka absorbed like a sponge. He loved learning things.

“Do you know any more?” Sokka asked.

“I also know one about a whore from Shuhon?”

“Right,” Katara said, getting up from where she was crouching. Time to put a stop to
whatever this was—it certainly wasn’t for twelve-year-old ears.

“Wait, I want to hear it,” Aang said in a loud whisper.

“Me too.” Toph was grinning from ear to ear.

“Absolutely not.”

Sokka squawked as she stepped clear of the bushes. She squinted up at them, both fully
dressed as she had hoped. She felt a rush of relief. If they hadn’t been, Sokka’s laughter
would have dried up, and he wouldn’t be grinning down at her.

“Did you still want me to recite the rhyme?” Zuko asked, a little uncertain despite the scowl
on his face.

“Er, no. Let’s save that one for another time,” Sokka said, still smiling as he hopped down
from their ledge.

“I don’t mind!” Aang said.

“No,” Katara said. “We need to get water for tomorrow, and for cooking.” She haphazardly
jerked her pot to illustrate her point.

“Okay, we’ll get the fire going and start planning food. Zuko can cook, can’t you?” Sokka
grinned.

“Only if you like jook,” Zuko said, but he didn’t object.

Zuko’s cooking was fine. Katara watched him carefully as he prepared the food. He was very
focused, like mixing rice and watching the water was a complicated task. He had added some
chopped strips of dried ginger to add flavour and Sokka had ripped up a little jerky for them
to use after cooking. It appeared this was the only non meat related meal that they knew how
to cook, but she was pleased that they had offered. Well, Sokka had offered Zuko to make it,
but it seemed to be the same thing.
“This is great, thanks, Zuko!” Aang said. He seemed to be making a real effort to praise the
prince for even the smallest task. Katara thought she could understand why. He wanted him
to feel welcome, wanted him to become one of the group. Despite warming to him a little,
Katara wasn’t quite ready to do the same.

“It’s really nice here by the pool. Do you think we can stop for a day or so, rest a little before
we head to the city?” Aang asked. “I bet there’s some excellent fish in there.”

“You don’t even eat fish,” Toph said, lounging comfortably with her head on Katara’s bag.

“But it might be fun to catch them, like with a net or something. Or we could-”

“No!” Zuko said, breaking into their conversation so loudly they all jumped, even Toph.
“We’re not stopping. We walk again at first light.”

“You don’t just get to make that choice!” Katara said. “There’s five of us here, we all get to
decide.”

Fish did sound good, but it wouldn’t help with the Aang food situation. You couldn’t just live
on jook alone, not if you needed to walk for miles every day and practice bending. Sokka’s
additional supplies might not last all the way to the city, so she wasn’t sure it was even a
good idea to stop. But Zuko had no right to just demand like that.

“I do get to decide if your choices are stupid. We are not stopping so the Avatar can play with
fish again!” Zuko snarled.

Sokka was looking between them, and Katara was pretty sure he was going to vote with
Zuko. He was just as anxious to keep moving as the stupid ashmaker was. But that wasn’t
why she was getting angry.

“You can just make demands of us, Prince Zuko. We are not your subjects!”

“Don’t call me that!” Zuko snapped at her. “I’m not that anymore.” He shifted his weight, his
height suddenly threatening.

The aggression took her aback a moment. “Weren’t you banished and still using your lordly
title?” she asked, matching his tone.

“This is different.”

“Katara,” Sokka warned.

She pinched her mouth together. Yesterday, Sokka had her back, but not in this apparently.
She supposed it was because her anger was justified then. This was petty. But the urge to
poke the sore spot was very strong.

Zuko’s angry scowl was the same as it always was, but his eyes were on the ground, not her.
He was genuinely upset.

“Okay,” she said. “Just Zuko it is.”

He blinked a few times, a little thrown at the lack of a fight. “I’m done with food. Sokka you
clean up. I’m going to patrol.” He took off without waiting for any objections.

Sokka watched him like he wasn’t sure if he should follow or not.

They needed to keep the peace, and she knew she wasn’t helping. Katara could do this. Be
the bigger person and accept some boundaries. There were plenty of other things she could be
mad at him for. It was so strange to adapt to him being this person. She hadn’t seen much of
the boy Iroh had described. But there were shades of him when Zuko dealt with Sokka. The
way he had spoken to him and held him in the tent. The way he carefully shaved his head,
and accepted tasks he was given. But there was also a lot of behaviour that needed to be
addressed before a truce could really be declared.

She got up. “I’m going to speak to him.”

“Katara,” Sokka looked worried.

“We need to talk. I’ll behave.” As long as he behaved.

Sokka didn’t look happy, but he let her go.

She caught up with Zuko by the pool. He wasn’t patrolling, just staring morosely out over the
water. She made no effort to hide her approach.

“What?” he said as she drew abreast of him. The tone got her back up and all thoughts of a
truce almost flew from her head. But no, she could be the adult, seeing he was acting like a
petulant child.

“Fighting is not helping the group,” she began.

“Then stop arguing with me.”

“You stop arguing with me!” She snapped back. Deep breath. “I’m trying, Zuko. But you
have to try too. Control your bending. Control your princely tenancies.” She held up a hand
as his face creased into a glower. “I don’t mean that mockingly. You need to stop ordering
people around and expecting them to hop. That’s not how we work. You want us to do
something? Ask. Nicely.”

“You order people around all the time.”

“Yes, because if I don’t we would never get anywhere!” Admittedly it used to be Sokka’s job
to add direction, and her job to keep things together. Taking it all on had been a lot, and it was
possible she had become a little bossy. The thing was, Zuko clearly felt similar frustration.
He just had no manners.

“We are used to things being a certain way. My ordering people to do everyday tasks is
accepted. You’re an outsider. You don’t have that privilege yet. Just be polite.”

He looked kind of... pouty. But he was thinking about it. He scrubbed a hand through his hair.
It was still strange to see him without his awful bald ponytail style. It added to the illusion he
was a different person than the one he had been before. After a moment he sighed. It sounded
aggravated, but this time she didn’t think it was annoyance at her.

“Shen says I get frustrated easily, because people don’t always understand me when I’m not
being blunt. So I say what I mean. But he says that rubs people the wrong way.” He paused as
if to check her reaction. “Which is like when you pet a cat backwards.”

Katara blinked at him. “I know what rubbed the wrong way means,” she said, but not harshly.
He flushed, blinking angrily with his lower lip protruding.

She got a little inkling of what Sokka had meant, when she had asked him why he liked the
stupid ashmaker so much, and he had said: He’s a dork. A weirdly charming dork, with a
weird squirrely brain. But he is kind, you just have to give him a little space to see it. She
thought she was seeing it a bit, maybe.

“Thank you for explaining. How about this, I will try not to antagonise you, and you try to be
a bit more polite?”

“Okay. I’ll try. I just-” He let out a harsh breath “None of you understand what’s behind us.
We have to move faster. We’re nearly to the flatlands before the city. We need as much of a
head start as we can get.”

“Neither of you have explained what’s behind us,” she pointed out. “You haven’t explained
anything.”

He squatted down and picked up a rock, flinging it into the lake with an angry motion. They
watched it hit the water and sink out of sight. “Sokka… he has to choose what to tell, not me.
But I will say that the man following us… It’s not like when I was chasing you. He will kill
me and take back Sokka. He will hurt you, any of you, for fun.” Zuko’s mouth was tight and
his body was tense. He was afraid just talking about it. It made Katara shiver.

“Aang is the Avatar.”

“Aang doesn’t kill. Ro does. He might not even realise that it’s the Avatar he’s dealing with
yet. He might not care, as long as he gets what he wants. Killing the… killing Aang will
bring him as much glory as capturing him, and it’s easier. You and Toph, he might not kill
right away. Do you understand what I mean by that?”

She could read between the lines, and there was a cold pit in her stomach. “Toph is twelve.”

“Doesn’t matter. Not to a man like him. We have to stay ahead of him, Katara. If we slow…
we can’t allow him to catch up to us. We can’t take the risk.”

She nodded, mute with horrified understanding. This is what Sokka had meant when he had
spoken of his fear of the man finding them, of finding her. “Okay, we’ll keep moving at first
light.” Before first light, if they could. “Thank you for telling me this. It helps me to
understand.”
He nodded, rubbing his arms as though he was cold, although he clearly wasn’t. “A truce,
then?” he asked.

“As long as you’re on your best behaviour, and do what I say.”

He glared at her, and she sighed. “That was a joke. Sokka always says he got all the funny in
our family.”

Zuko snorted. “That is up for debate. He certainly thinks he’s funny.”

She grinned. “Yeah, he thinks a lot of his comedic ability. Shall we finish your patrol?” Or
start it apparently, as he hadn’t got very far before he had stopped to have a brood.

“Sure.”

“Katara!”

Sokka’s voice woke her from tangled, horrible dreams, and there was panic in her chest as
she struggled out of her blankets and staggered out of the tent still in her sleep clothes, Aang
on her heels.

Sokka was sitting between Zuko’s spread legs, clearly just having had his head shaved in
their morning ritual. “Katara, look!” He turned to show her where he was holding his hair in
the tiniest tuft of a wolf tail. “Look, I can tie it back!” He looked so excited, and although her
heart was still hammering in her chest, she couldn’t help but smile at him. “Do you have
something I can bind it with?” he asked her.

“Actually, I have something,” Zuko said. He twisted to pull his bag closer and dug through it.
Taking out a small purse. He drew out a long strip of something.

As Katara stepped closer, she could see it was a thin piece of green leather, twisted with a
strip of blue cloth that wasn’t quite long enough to be bound to the whole length of the thong.
Zuko handed it to Sokka, a little flush on his cheeks.

“This is for me?” Sokka drew his sprawled legs in so he could turn to look at his friend.

“Um, I figured soon it would be long enough, so I asked Suki if she could help find me
something blue. This was all we could get, so I added it to the green. It’s not quite right, I
know.”

Sokka’s face went all soft for a moment, and he leaned forward to hug him. Zuko went the
colour of a bacui berry. “It’s perfect, buddy. Thank you.”

“Aww,” Aang said, probably not quiet enough.

It was sweet and funny that Zuko was so embarrassed to do something nice. Katara was
increasingly sure that however annoying he was, and whatever he had done in the past, Sokka
had been right in thinking Zuko actually cared for him, and would protect him, even from his
own people. Despite their conversation last evening going some way towards understanding,
seeing this loosened something tight in her chest that she hadn’t realised she had been
carrying.

Sokka moved back and pushed their faces together for a moment, forehead to forehead, like
they had done in the tent that first night. Then he turned around so Zuko had access to his
hair. “Do the honours! Ha, honour.” He was grinning ear to ear.

Zuko tied Sokka’s hair back carefully, and there was a look on his face that was so open and
wanting and sad that Katara’s heart ached for him, before she suddenly realised what that
look meant.

Oh.

Well, that certainly put a different spin on things.

………………

Kazuma had promised to put aside the Blue Spirit investigation for now and focus on Zhao.
As such, he had gained access to the hall of records, a series of dusty underground buildings
full of reports. The cold stones underfoot and its lack of windows made it an unwelcoming
environment, but Kazuma liked it. He enjoyed the information there, and sorting through
mountains of tedious reports was soothing. He was here under the guise of conducting a
second audit, or indeed a first one, on East Lake. He supposed he should thank Captain Shen
for that idea.

There were few people down here to disturb him as he settled into a private reading room
equipped with lanterns and a desk. He had a number of records relating to Zhao’s early career
set out in front of him, but his mind just couldn’t stay away from the Blue Spirit. Although
his shortlist of names contained some that were making him very uneasy.

His initial investigation of the compilation of things that he knew about the vigilante had
provided six names that fit the parameters, ranging from probable to very unlikely, but
possible.

He had thought he could narrow them down using the names the Water Tribe boy had given
Ichika. It was possible the person he had been looking for was unrelated to the Blue Spirit,
but he thought for the time being he should operate under the assumption that there was a
connection. With that in mind, and seeing he was there already, he had selected several
scrolls relating to those individuals mentioned. Except for Captain Wang, on whom he could
find nothing.
Working through those names had revealed only one possible connection. Which had then
bumped up one of his improbable names to the top of the list.

He had written the characters of the name at the top of his blank page, and now he was
staring at them in somewhat stupefied silence. It made sense in a way, and would explain
Piandao and Ichika’s fear. This was by far the most explosive option, a political minefield
and personal disaster wrapped into one.

It still felt unbelievable. But that was because he just couldn’t fathom it actually being true. It
was too... much. And just as dangerous as his friends had warned. He should assume this was
correct and burn all of his investigations. He should select another name on his list and arrest
them instead, hiding the truth at some other poor soul’s expense. Although in reality he
would rather slit his throat than do any such thing, however sensible it would be.

What was even more appalling was if Zhao had knowingly done the things Captain Shen had
implied to this boy. It was disgusting and should be punished no matter who the victim was,
but the unmitigated hubris, the arrogance and the audacity if it was this particular boy, was
mind-boggling. No wonder the man needed to recapture him. He needed to kill him and burn
the body, then kill his whole crew to make sure this never got out.

Kazuma left the page on his desk and tried to focus on the task at hand. The admiral and his
early career. Sorting through written reports of Zhao’s infractions was proving difficult. It
was more a case of what wasn’t there than what was. It was clear from reading around the
incidents mentioned that things were missing from the records. He had apparently cleaned up
his earlier messes, although Kazuma would be hard pressed to prove it. That wouldn’t stop
him finding what he needed though. The people who had made those complaints might be
willing to talk if he approached them in the right way.

He had a plan of action, but he just couldn’t concentrate. His eyes kept sliding back to the
name.

He was still staring at it when the door to his private room opened. He moved his hand to
cover it and glared at the intruder for a few seconds before his brain caught up with what he
was seeing.

Crown Princess Azula.

His knees hit the floor before he had even really registered moving. He bowed his head to the
flagstones automatically. His chest hurt. Adrenaline like he had never experienced, flooded
his system and he had to focus to stop himself doing... something. He wasn’t sure what.
Either bolting or just collapsing in a heap.

Why? What was she doing here? He knew the answer to that. But his mind kept asking,
anyway.

He couldn’t see her from his position on the floor, but he could hear her move into the room
and shut the door. There was a finality in the locking mechanism clicking shut.
“Captain Kazuma of the Ikeda family,” Princess Azula said, and Kazuma felt the blood drain
from his face in horror. It had been a very long time since he had heard his family name
spoken in such a way. In relation to him.

That alone was enough to increase the feeling of panic to the point he thought he might pass
out.

But he was also acutely aware that the characters spelling out her brother’s name were
written on a piece of paper on his desk. For a moment, he could think of nothing else as she
approached. Each soft footfall seemed to resonate with threat. There was nothing he could do
but wait.

“Hmm,” she said, before he heard the crackle of fire as she burnt the papers. “Sit up,” she
commanded.

He did so, still keeping his eyes on the stones under his knees. His ears were ringing. He
honestly couldn’t remember being this afraid, other than when kneeling in front of his father
many, many years before. There was only one reason she could be here. Ichika was going to
give him the worst I told you so of his life. If either of them lived long enough.

“Look at me, Captain.”

He did so reluctantly. Looking at royalty in such a way went against every behaviour that had
been trained into him. She stared back, face blank and calm. For someone with such a
terrifying presence and reputation, she was very small.

“Your Highness,” he said. His voice was a little croaky.

“Your father had your head shaved and threw you onto the streets before you were even out
of your teens. The shame of that must have been hard to deal with.” She said it matter of
factly, and he flinched where he knelt. “For your family, too. I understand your sister is about
to marry into one of the most influential families on the island.”

Kazuma could feel his heart squeezing so hard he couldn’t breathe. To ruin Yume’s chance at
happiness, to trap her with their parents again, just when she was finally free. He would
prefer his own death. The fear and the guilt were staggering.

“I will say nothing, Your Highness,” he tried.

“Oh? Nothing about what?”

He straightened further and looked her in the eye. It was very clear why she was here.
Perhaps if that name had not been number one on his list… But it was. “Your brother is not
dead. He is the Blue Spirit.”

She hummed, looking back at him.

“Does the Fire Lord know?” Kazuma asked.

“He does not. And that is how it will stay. Who else is privy to this information? The woman
you share quarters with?”

“No,” he lied, with everything he had. “She is my secretary, not my lover. I do not share such
dangerous secrets. It’s the quickest way for them to get out.”

“Very true. You are also looking into Admiral Zhao.”

“I am.”

“Why?” Azula asked, still with that almost disinterested expression.

“I… I had learned that he is behaving in a way unbefitting his rank. I want to see him
demoted,” he said carefully.

“I see. Well, in that we share a goal. From now on, all your information will come to me, and
you will stop this particular line of investigation.”

She must know what the admiral had done to her brother. That digging through his past
misconduct might reveal it. He wasn’t sure what her angle was. It was almost as
disconcerting as the fact he was still alive to have this conversation.

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Forget the Blue Spirit, forget Zhao’s disgusting behaviour. I want something else on him.
Find out more about what happened at the North Pole.”

She walked a single pace and sat in his chair, her golden eyes almost molten in the firelight.

“If you cross me, if word of this reaches my father, if you try to run, I will ruin you and those
you love so thoroughly people will wince at the mention of their names for years to come,”
she said, with dark promise in her words. “But it doesn’t have to be a one sided relationship.
The Fire Nation is ripe for change, for reform. Those changes might benefit you. Sozin’s
ideas are outdated, and his war is pointless.”

That was flat out treason, and he could feel his whole body flushing and going cold almost
simultaneously. Just hearing this was enough to condemn him. He had expected painful
death, not whatever this was.

Although he was already fucked, so it hardly made a difference.

“Are you asking me to commit treason?” he asked bluntly. His mouth tasted like ashes, and
his voice was hoarse. He was trapped. Although she had asked for nothing but his silence, it
was only a matter of time before it was something else, something far worse. That was how
these things worked.

“What is treason?” she asked, raising an eyebrow and crossing her legs comfortably as she
looked down at him.
He blinked at her. His knees were aching from his position on the stone floor. He could
normally sit in seiza for hours, but the tension in his body seemed to be causing him pain.

“Are we arguing semantics? Or is this a philosophical question of some kind?” His possible
impending death had perhaps freed up his tongue more than it should. At least if she struck
him down in anger, Yume might be spared. Although perhaps not. Ozai had a reputation for
wiping out opposition down to the last family member, and there was no reason his daughter
would be any different.

One of her perfect eyebrows rose again, and he felt fear flashing under his skin.

“I mean it literally. What is the definition of treason?”

Kazuma wet his lips, resisting the urge to shift where he knelt. “To betray your nation. To
attempt to overthrow your rightful lord or government.”

“So, we will deal with the first part: to betray your nation. What does that mean when the
nation is suffering and you only wish to better it?”

He had thought that she was playing with him like a cat with a mouse, but perhaps there was
more to this. “Our nation is stronger than it has ever been,” he said. It was what was
expected, speaking to the blood. And true in many ways.

“As a country, as an empire, we are thriving,” she agreed. “But our people are being bred just
to die fighting. What’s the point of having a strong nation when your people are no better
than cattle for the slaughter?”

He watched her carefully for a moment. “You wish to stop the war?”

“I do. Trade could be almost as lucrative and doesn’t have the awkward reality of most of our
people dying before they reach middle age.”

She was right, but he wasn’t stupid. She didn’t believe what she was saying; it was just a way
to get what she wanted. He wasn’t certain what that was, though.

Did her brother have something to do with this? Kazuma was aware he had been banished,
although not the circumstances, other than the fact he had been ridiculously young. He opted
to say nothing, keeping his mouth pressed shut in an effort not to respond.

Her other eyebrow rose.

It was a challenge, and unfortunately for Kazuma, if there was one thing he was unable to
resist, it was a debate. Something that Ichika both exploited and chided him for in equal
measure. “I understand your point, Your Highness. But couldn’t it be said that almost all
those who commit treason do so because they believe their way is better for the nation? That
doesn’t make it any less treasonous, or make them right.”

Princess Azula pursed her lips at him. But it wasn’t anger, more interest, probably at him
being so brazen with questioning her. Ozai would have probably incinerated him by now.
“Indeed. So we come to the next point, to overthrow your rightful lord or government. How
does it work if your lord themselves is a usurper? If they don’t have a legitimate claim.
Hypothetically, of course.”

He could feel the fire in the lanterns, like a calm and steady pulse. “Hypothetically, if you
believed only the legitimate heir belonged on the throne, and wished to make this happen,
then you would be working for the true Fire Lord, and against the usurper. I personally would
not consider myself to be committing treason if that was the case. However, I would still be
executed for it, if I got caught.”

Her lips twitched. “A good incentive not to get caught, I would think.”

He took a breath, then another, still feeling like a mouse. He forced his body to relax. It eased
the pressure in his knees and shins. “Are you suggesting you have a better claim to the throne
than your father?” He kept his tone as even as he could, but his voice still came out a little
strangled. What was she playing at? Why was she involving him in it? Clearly she knew...
things about him that made him a prime target for blackmail. He had always known it could
be a risk, that if someone found out, his reputation at least would be ruined. This was a
nightmare he’d had countless times, and it was never far from his mind. They would not be
able to prove a crime had been committed, not unless his father testified to having discovered
his youthful relationship. That would be the only way, but his father had gone to great lengths
to ensure there would be no witnesses to bring an accusation against him and cause any
shame to the family.

But rumour might well be enough, if whispered in the wrong ear.

She was watching him like a predator. “No,” she said. “As the child of a usurper, I have even
less of a claim.”

“Your father was anointed Fire Lord, Azulon gave him his blessing, declared him his heir.”

“Did he?”

“Are you suggesting he did not?”

“I know he did not. Let me tell you a story I have only spoken of to one other man.” She
settled herself back in the chair, the fire bright in her eyes. “When we were younger, Zuko
and I eavesdropped on a conversation between father and grandfather. Prince Lu Ten had
been killed, Iroh had abandoned the siege and my father deemed it the right time to make a
play for the crown.” She examined her long, sharp fingernails. “He misjudged. Grandfather
punished him by telling him he would have to kill his own first born to really understand his
brother’s pain.”

A statement that was both shocking and not entirely unbelievable. It was no secret that
Azulon had favoured Iroh, and that he was frequently a hard and ruthless man, even towards
his own family.

“This punishment was also a misjudgement, as father never cared for Zuko. Killing him was
hardly going to be a chore.” She sighed, like her family’s plotting was just some annoyance.
“Obviously, the idea upset me, so I told my mother.”

The off-hand way she spoke of her father’s intended filicide felt strange, not quite right. But
Kazuma kept his mouth shut this time, and let her speak.

“The next morning, Zuko was alive, my mother was gone, grandfather was dead and my
father declared the heir.”

There had been rumours about the disappearance of Lady Ursa. The timing had been so close
to Azulon’s death, but they suggested assassins, not regicide. “I see what you are implying,
but if I may, what makes you think it was your father, and not your mother acting alone?”

“I don’t know which one it was. It hardly matters. The key is that Azulon had been very clear
in the conversation I overheard, that Iroh would still be his heir.”

“A conversation overhead by a child is hardly enough proof to...” he trailed off, remembering
a little too late which child he was referring to.

She smiled, sharp as a knife. “My word is not enough?”

He bowed his head to the floor again. The feel of the stone against his fear-hot skin was
shocking. Then he sat back and looked her in the eye. “Forgive me, but under the
circumstances, no. Not if you are planning to make a case. I believe you, if you say this is
true. But it’s not proof.”

She watched him for what felt like an eternity, and his body buzzed with the need to do
something. Run, beg, pray. Something.

She nodded. “Fair enough. I can’t offer definitive proof. But let’s take a look at the men who
can. Three men and two Fire Sages were present at Azulon’s death bed. They heard and
certified his words, declaring Ozai as his heir. This was accepted by all.”

Kazuma wished he could have a drink of water. His mouth felt dry, and his skin clammy, like
he was getting sick.

Princess Azula ticked off the names on her fingers as she spoke. “Lord Kato, a very
influential man, fell out of a window. Very sad. Then Lord Ueta, who was a brilliant mind in
his youth but was known for his drinking, fell asleep in his bath with a bottle of mediocre
wine and drowned. Shortly after these two little accidents, Lord Lin decided that going home
to his own family estate in Fire Fountain City was probably better for his ongoing health than
remaining in Caldera. Unfortunately, his ship was raided by pirates. He, his wife and
daughter were all horribly murdered, and the ship sunk.”

Kazuma vaguely remembered that. Ozai had declared the pirates had been hired by the Earth
Kingdom and used it to gain support to raise taxes for the war effort.

This was not proof, but if what she was saying was true, then it added a lot of weight to her
story. “And the Fire Sages?” he asked.
“One retired, and by that I mean he left a note and disappeared. The other fell into a volcano.
Very clumsy for a Sage to do that.” She paused to let that sink in. “Then, of course, there was
my mother, who disappeared that same night.”

That last point made this whole horrible situation make some sense to Kazuma. Azula would
have been very young, perhaps seven or eight, but she would have been able to understand on
some level that her speaking to her mother to try to protect Zuko, directly led to Ursa’s
disappearance. The guilt and the anger must have been a lot for a child to carry. Either alone,
or with her brother, if she had shared this with him.

It made sense that as she got older, the anger would get bigger. She had looked into it, clearly.
And now she was preparing to take revenge. If someone had harmed his sister, Kazuma
would have done the same. He would stop at nothing, even if the perpetrator was a member
of his own family, especially if it was. And he would also have waited until it was possible.
Acting quickly would only lead to being caught.

But the ramifications of what she was suggesting far outreached a personal trauma. “This
could lead to civil war. Your own claim to the throne is just as shaky if your father took it
unlawfully.”

“My father committed regicide.”

“Won’t you? In the eyes of the people, at least.”

“No, because either my father will be taken out by the Avatar or by our own people, and if he
is captured, which will of course be my intention, then he will go on trial, let the citizens
decide.”

The idea appealed to Kazuma. Apart from being rightfully afraid of Ozai, believing in the
correct order of things, and the fact the Fire Lord was his lord, he had no love for the man.
He was cruel and dealt with his own people harshly, allowing corruption and animals like
Zhao to have power, despite the fact they had neither earned it nor used it well.

But it was also probably bullshit. She was attempting to manipulate him, as she had been this
whole conversation. That being said, manipulation or not, it wasn’t like he had a choice other
than to do as she asked. At least for now, at least until he could find a way out of it. What else
could he do? Run away and try to hide in the Earth Kingdom somewhere? She would hunt
him down, he had no doubt of that.

“You said you have told this story only to one other man?” he said in an effort to gain himself
a little time to think.

“My uncle, Prince Iroh. He is the legitimate heir to the throne, after all.”

And General Iroh had no heir of his own, so if his niece helped him take back his birthright,
it was also likely that she would cement her own newly legitimate path to the throne.

There was one problem with that, however. “And your brother? What role does he play?”
From the calculating look on her face, she had followed his chain of thought. “My brother
was disinherited, banished, and father called for his execution. Zhao claims to have carried it
out. But obviously he lied.”

Kazuma nodded. She had avoided his question entirely, but he could hardly challenge her on
it. He had taken a lot of liberties so far, but the expression on her face didn’t invite him to
take more. Still, there were other, less direct ways to work out her answer. “Your brother is
the Blue Spirit. How many people know that?”

“Very few, which is the way it will stay. Your particular angle when looking into Zhao
suggests you know other things about what happened to my brother. Tell me what you found
out.”

He had no loyalty to the boy, far from it. But he still didn’t feel right discussing the things
Captain Shen had told him. Ash and bone, did Shen know he was harbouring the Fire Lord’s
fugitive son? Kazuma didn’t think so. Shen cared for the boy, and it seemed that care was
returned. He didn’t think the captain had the political sway in the army to have been worth
mounting the rescue at Lao Fort, or the prison break at East Lake. Zuko had done those
things out of loyalty and love.

“I’ll start,” Azula said when he didn’t answer. “I know Zhao tortured and abused him when
he had him in custody. I know what form that abuse took.” Her face was frightening for a
moment, her true nature, the rage, shone through. If Kazuma gave up trying to bring Zhao to
justice, the admiral’s life was forfeit, anyway. Azula had every intention of making him suffer
for what he had done. That was satisfying and also suggested that she had some intention of
bringing her brother back into the fold.

Her face returned to its former expression, calm, inquisitive, and a little amused. “I wish to
know how you know what happened.”

She needed to be sure of how widespread that knowledge was. “Tsing was contacted by one
of Zhao’s men, claiming to have tracked the Blue Spirit to a small army of Earth and Water
Tribe forces. He sent me to join in the effort to bring them in.” He shuddered a little at the
memory. “They attacked, and prisoners were taken. One of these men I took back to Lao
River Fort with me for questioning.” Something he regretted for numerous reasons, not least
that it had led him here. “We spoke on the way. He claimed I was wrong about the Blue Spirit
and he revealed the boys that Lieutenant Ro was after had been abused by him, and by
Admiral Zhao.”

Her eyes narrowed at the mention of Ro’s name, so she knew about his involvement too. He
wondered how. “The Blue Spirit raided the fort, and rescued him,” Kazuma concluded.

“An Earth Kingdom captain?” She looked amused. “Zuzu has a very interesting relationship
with loyalty to his people.”

“So do you, your Highness. Considering our conversation.” Her eyes narrowed further, and
he hurried on. “Given what had happened to him, it makes sense he grew attached to the
people who rescued him.”
“Hmm. And so, instead of pursuing them, you headed to Caldera to find Zhao, and have
begun to integrate yourself with him?”

“Tsing would have punished me for the events that took place. I merely opted to use what
time I had to do some good, and to perhaps discover the Blue Spirit’s identity.”

“And thus save yourself from your master.” She uncrossed her legs and leaned forward.
Kazuma had to resist the urge to lean back. “You have no need to worry about Tsing. You are
my man now, and I look after my own.”

He bowed from his position on the floor. She was smart, manipulative and cunning, a
frightening opponent, even more so given her age. But there was also something thrilling
about the thought of matching wits with her. If he hadn’t been one step away from soiling
himself in fear, he might have enjoyed this conversation.

“What are your intentions towards the admiral now, Captain?”

“What do you want them to be? If you wish for your brother to have a place at your side,
what happened to him must be covered up.” In the Fire Nation, being the ‘submissive’
partner in sex between men was even more shameful than just the act itself. Unfortunately,
that also included rape. A man so weak as to have been forced against his will would be
expected to fall on his sword. The thought of it made Kazuma furious. The boy wouldn’t
escape from the shame and the stigma just because he was under his majority.

“I will do everything in my power to avoid this information coming out,” he said, and he
truly meant it. He wasn’t in a position to do much more than that. He could only hope that if
her coup was successful, what had happened to Prince Zuko might have a positive impact on
the way the new regime treated victims of such terrible acts.

There was, of course, also the risk that if Zuko himself rose to power, he might take
vengeance against men who desired other men, even if that desire was consensual.

Perhaps not, though. Perhaps his friendship with Captain Shen could help mitigate that—
assuming the way he had behaved with Kazuma meant he was at least somewhat inclined
towards such things. Although Kazuma was under no illusions that he had acted that way
because of attraction. He was just looking for an angle to work with to orchestrate his own
escape. The fact he had clearly seen Kazuma’s interest was both embarrassing and terrifying.

“Captain?”

He flushed. She was tapping one foot on the floor. “My apologies. I was considering
matters.”

Her lips twitched again. “A lot of Sozin’s rules were stupid. Engineered towards controlling
people, not for any real moral or sensible reason. Perhaps in the new Fire Nation, such things
would change.”

He doubted he would live to see it, but he bowed and nodded, trying to figure out how he felt
about someone knowing those disgraceful things about him and apparently not caring. He
had never spoken of his shameful desires to anyone since being disinherited. Not Piandao,
not Ichika, although he suspected both knew.

Most of him felt sick and frightened, shame heavy and painful in his stomach, squirming like
fire ferrets in a barrel. But there was a small, defiant part that felt relief. Free.

“Very good. I have no doubt you will wish to verify what I have told you. I would
recommend being extremely careful if that is what you chose to do. If you are discovered, I
will make sure those you love regret your actions.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Continue to integrate yourself with Zhao, but look for more than his disgusting behaviours. I
want something unrelated that I can use against him.” She narrowed her eyes at him. Tapping
her lip with one fingernail. “You have a reputation for being very book smart.”

That was one way to put it. He nodded.

“I have two letters with a cipher I would like broken. Would you be up to the task? If you do
this for me, I will reward you with further trust.”

I will not murder your family, she meant. There wasn’t much more trust she could give,
considering the treason they had just discussed. “I would be glad to try, Your Highness. I
have some skill in such things.”

He did love puzzles and codes; they gave him almost as much enjoyment as digging out
secrets or using obscure precedents in laws to achieve his goals.

She smirked at him, clearly seeing his interest, and handed him over two folded letters. “If
you look like you might be caught, burn them, and I might consider sparing your loved
ones.”

“I will not get caught.” He desperately hoped that was true.

“Now, you mentioned my brother hiding out with a small army of Earth and Water Tribe folk.
Tell me everything about them.”

After she left him, Kazuma remained kneeling on the floor for a long moment. His heart was
beating rapidly enough that his chest hurt, and there was a feeling of almost dizzying
unreality.

He rose to his feet and staggered to his chair, legs burning from being folded under him. He
breathed and breathed, but it didn’t help, and he rested his head against the desk. The scars on
his neck from the raid at Lao Fort itched, almost like they were reminding him of all the ways
he had failed.
 Piandao and Ichika had been right, of course. He should have run. Maybe stayed with
Piandao and hidden behind his friend’s reputation. But that just wasn’t the kind of man he
was. And now he had no choice but to do as the princess wished, not without terrible
consequences. But apart from the risk to himself and his loved ones, he wasn’t fully opposed
to what he had learned. Ozai would bring glory to the Fire Nation while her people suffered.
And if he wasn’t the legitimate Fire Lord, then Kazuma had no reason to be loyal to him.

He loved his nation and people. He wanted to be proud of them.

Although, he also would really have preferred to have a choice.

But then, hadn’t he always had a choice? So far, he had always opted for the path of least
resistance. He had done the things within his power to bring what justice he could to people,
and then convinced himself that was enough.

It wasn’t.

He groaned and lifted his head from the desk. He opened the first letter. It was about tea.
There was nothing remarkable about it, just one person talking about mundane things to
another.

He opened the second and stared at it, a feeling of rising panic squeezing his chest again. The
letter was about a bird, just nonsense.

But it was written in Ichika’s hand.

Chapter End Notes

Thank you to the wonderfully talented Wylinka, who produced some amazing art!
Please give them some love!

Heartbreaking scene from chapter 4

Here

Suki and Zuko giving Sokka confused jealousy feels:

Here

And some wonderful valentines day cards:

Here

Thank you for sharing your work!

Next Chapter: Kazuma’s no good, very bad day continues, Hakoda gets a nice surprise
that rapidly becomes a problem and Sokka’s body betrays him by being sixteen.
 Chapter 29
Chapter Summary

“Other. People’s. Shoes.”

Chapter Notes

Thank you for all the comments and Kudos!

Warnings: Politics and talking, so much talking (sorry), teenagers discussing sex,
sexuality and masturbation. Restrictive ideas about sexuality, drinking, prostitution.
Some vague internalised homophobia, mild fleeting misogyny.

Many thanks to my beta burkesl17, who has managed to wrangle my dyslexic nonsense.
All mistakes are my own.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Kazuma had not felt able to return to his lodgings after Princess Azula had left him. But nor
could he stand to be in the archives any more. He felt like the walls were closing in on him,
like his sense of comfort from the dusty scrolls had been disrupted beyond repair.

He wasn’t ready to face Ichika. Not to speak about the princess’ visit, not to admit to the
treason he had been embroiled in, or the blackmail hanging over him. And he was far from
ready to confront her about the letters. He just couldn’t deal with it yet.

He made his way back up to street level, casting a quick look up at the sun to check the time,
there was something comforting in habit. He was due to meet Zhao in an hour or so. Perhaps
he would wait at the officer’s bar the pompous fool liked to frequent.

The daylight felt too much after the comforting dark of the record rooms, and Kazuma
squinted a little as he carefully made his way through the streets. He had intended to go back
to his rooms and change before his meeting with Zhao, as he wasn’t really dressed for the bar,
wearing a casual robe and loose pants. But unless he went and bought himself new clothes,
this was all he was going to get. He paused momentarily, considering it, but he hadn’t
brought enough coin with him either, not if Zhao intended to make him pay for overpriced
wine again.

It was early afternoon, but the bar was filling up. Kazuma had met Zhao here a few times,
and he hoped the guard by the stairs would let him up to the exclusive area, as he was going
to meet the admiral.

The man gave him a look, taking in his lack of insignia, lack of a jacket, and the fact he was
wearing sandals, rather than boots. Kazuma stared him down. He may have been dressed
casually, but his clothes were well made, and still remarkably well pressed, seeing as he had
spent much of the past hour on the floor. He strongly resisted the urge to give his pants
another brush, they were as clean as they were going to get.

“You can wait for the admiral,” the guard said at last, averting his eyes from Kazuma’s.

“Thank you. I’ll be at the window seat. If the admiral wishes to be seated elsewhere, please
fetch me.”

The guard gave a small, barely respectful bow. “And to drink?”

“Plum wine,” Kazuma headed to the corner booth by the window. He wanted the wall at his
back, but he also wanted to see the afternoon sun. He sat and waited for his wine. He didn’t
often drink alcohol, and never to excess. But he really felt the need for something to steady
his nerves. He felt so off kilter he was concerned about his meeting with Zhao. He was
unprepared for it. But with Princess Azula’s instructions ringing in his ears, he didn’t feel
able to cancel.

After the server brought him his wine, he allowed himself to run over what had happened.
And to have a few moments to panic about it. Then he carefully took his fears and wrapped
them up tight in his mind. It might not help in the long run, but he needed to be clear headed.

Even so, some of the anxiety was already trying to worm its way free.

He had well over an hour before Zhao was due to join him, and this part of the bar was
empty, so he took the letters out to read again. Given time, he thought he would be able to
break the cipher. With two letters, it was much easier. But he didn’t have to, did he? He just
had to ask Ichika.

Which was something he did not want to do. He didn’t want to know what she was going to
tell him. Would she speak the truth? Would she lie to protect the recipient of the letter?

Kazuma took another sip of his wine. Unlike the over-priced nonsense Zhao preferred, this
was a middle of the range wine with a light fragrance, a subtle sweet flavour and a hint of
sour. It was soothing, although not nearly enough to quiet his thoughts.

What was Ichika’s connection to these letters? How bad was this? Was she committing
treason? Or working for the Fire Lord somehow?

No, Kazuma couldn’t see that at all. It was treason.

She and Piandao had both always had subtle leanings against the army and the way things
were run in the Fire Nation. But he had thought that was all it was. Just dissatisfaction with
things. Not this.
He glared at the pages and put them carefully back into his pocket. There was no point in
speculation. He was going to have to ask her. But first, he was going to have to deal with
Zhao.

When the admiral arrived, Kazuma rose and bowed. Zhao eyed his attire with a raised
eyebrow.

“My apologies, Admiral,” Kazuma said, looking as contrite as he could. “My previous
appointment ran over, and I did not think I had time to change. I didn’t want to keep you
waiting.”

He was aware Zhao had also taken in his small bottle of wine, mostly consumed. He had
clearly been waiting for enough time to have drunk it.

“To be honest, I was feeling quite out of sorts,” Kazuma admitted. “I wished to have a drink
to settle my nerves.”

Zhao looked curious and a little predatory, like he realised this might be useful to him
somehow. He sat and ordered his expensive Gold Sun. He watched as Kazuma poured
himself the last of his own drink. “Tell me, Captain, what could have put you in such a state?
Anything I can assist you with?”

“It...” Kazuma dropped his eyes to the table. “A personal matter. Admiral, but thank you.”

“Oh?” he looked even more intrigued. This was dangerous ground. Kazuma didn’t like
people digging into his personal business for obvious reasons. He kept himself very private,
but even so, he had no romantic entanglements, and until recently, very few political ones.
Apart from the distant past, there was very little that could be dug up. But right now, the past
was very much on his mind.

Zhao gave him a sympathetic face that missed sincere by at least a mile. “A woman?”

Kazuma took a sip of wine. He had a low tolerance for alcohol and he had already drunk
more than was sensible. He hummed noncommittally.

“Fickle creatures,” Zhao said. He leaned back, looking vaguely smug. “I feel it is time I
found a wife. But I for one, have no intentions of not seeking pleasure elsewhere.” He smiled
without warmth, and still with that slight predatory gleam in his eye. “Perhaps we can go
somewhere where you can forget your troubles?”

For one horrifying moment, Kazuma thought the disgusting bastard was propositioning him,
before he realised what he meant. This day could not get any worse.

“Come. Drink up, we can bring this.” Zhao hefted his wine bottle.

Kazuma did not want to drink up. But he supposed if he was playing the lovelorn, spurned
suitor, he better had. The sweet, light wine burned like liquor as he drank it.

Zhao led him to the Falling Blossom. A very high-class brothel, where the women performed
dance and music as well as other services. Nondescript from the outside, but opulent within,
full of perfume and colour. A young woman with a delicately painted face led them to their
seats; a private booth where they could still hear the music and see some of the dances if they
wished.

The dancers were very good. Better than some Kazuma had seen perform in the theatre. They
were fully clothed, of course, although there was a sultriness to the movements, their bright
silks fluttering as they spun and swayed. Despite his anxiety, he thought he could enjoy
watching them. Dance was only available to view as part of a show, and he liked it a great
deal. Almost as much as he did concerts.

“Do you have any information for me?” Zhao asked as he poured them both more wine.
Kazuma eyed his cup warily. He was already at the limit he was comfortable drinking. He
was clearly an idiot for having started in the first place, but he picked up the earthenware cup,
decorated with lines of shiny red paint and small pink flowers, and took a sip. He hated Gold
Sun.

“Tsing and Jianjun are heading to the city,” he told Zhao. “They have a meeting with the Fire
Lord.” This was pretty much common knowledge.

“That must concern you.” It concerned Zhao too, from the look on his face.

“I had planned to lie low. If I do not find something to point me in the direction of the Blue
Spirit, I will be stuck running my whole life.” Kazuma looked morosely into his cup. For
once, he didn’t want the man to take the bait.

Thankfully, he seemed to be too interested in getting dirt on his rival. “Tell me, did you hear
of any scandals involving the boy when you were stationed at Lao Fort? Married women,
gambling, inappropriate dalliances?”

“No,” Kazuma answered honestly. “He is rude to the servants and his teachers, but his spare
time is spent working with his weapons. Fighting is what he excels at.”

“He’s seventeen and rich, he must at least visit establishments like this.” Zhao waved a hand
and the room.

“Well, of course,” Kazuma lied. Actually, that was one thing Jianjun didn’t do. No servant
girls, no brothels. Although the way his eyes followed the women of the keep sometimes
suggested he wasn’t uninterested in such things. And also indicated he probably had normal
tastes, at least when it came to the gender of his attraction. But even so, the fact a boy with
his position and power did not indulge in such things made Kazuma feel, whatever the
reason, it should not be something that fell into Zhao’s hands. Kazuma didn’t like Jianjun, but
he was young, and although he was rude and mean, he wasn’t cruel in the ways he could be,
given his status. It was possible he could grow as a person if he ever escaped from under his
father’s yoke.

His anger was considerable, though, so it was possible he could go the other way. There were
some very distasteful rumours about his mother and her faithfulness to the marriage bed, ones
that Kazuma did not spread, that fulled it. Jianjun never refuted them, but the fury in his eyes
showed a great deal of hurt in the boy. Whether for his mother’s honour or the implications
against his own was unclear.

“Perhaps you could find out more for me?” Zhao said. It was not a request.

“Of course, I will do my best. I will send someone to follow him when he reaches the city. I
can’t go myself, you understand.”

“Of course. You’ve hardly touched your wine. Doesn’t seems fair to have bought such a
bottle and not drink it.”

“Quite right,” Kazuma sipped at his cup again.

They spoke about court nonsense, mostly Zhao’s opinions on his peers (unfavourable) and his
opinions on himself (over-inflated) until Kazuma saw a chance to dig at something
interesting.

“Admiral?” he asked, as he poured the man his fifth cup of wine. At least now he had
overtaken, or at least drawn abreast, of Kazuma in terms of intoxication. “I have heard many
rumours about the North Pole.” He could see Zhao’s face drawing down like an approaching
thundercloud. Luckily, it was pathetically easy to put him in a better mood with these
questions. “I heard the fleet breached the walls of the water savage’s keep in only a handful
of days, that you yourself made it inside. That is something incredible, no matter the
outcome. Will you tell me about it?”

Zhao drank and slammed the cup down. “We lost only because of the Avatar’s unreasonable
power. I had the fate of the moon in my hands.”

The moon? Kazuma had heard people speak of the time the moon disappeared from a clear
sky. He had not witnessed it himself, but he understood it was some sort of spirit business
connected to the action at the North Pole.

“I’m sure if the Avatar had not done as he did, your victory would have been assured.”

“It was. It should have been. More than victory. Everything.” Zhao’s jaw was clenched. He
seemed lost in the past for a moment. “I killed the moon spirit,” he said at last. “Put out the
light in the night sky. But they brought it back with their savage magic.”

“You… killed the moon?” Kazuma tried very hard not to sound incredulous.

“Yes. It had taken mortal form. Without it, waterbenders are powerless.” His eyes were alight
with fervour.

Without the moon, all the fishing, the trade, the livelihoods of the whole Fire Nation, not to
mention the rest of the world, would be fucked, to put it lightly. If this outrageous story was
even true, what kind of moron would do something like that? They were an island nation,
they needed the tides.

Kazuma counted to ten in his head. Twice. He couldn’t afford to upset the admiral. He had
already severely annoyed Crown Princess Azula with his inability to resist arguing with
people today. He didn’t need any more trouble than he already had.

“How did you discover the moon had taken mortal form?” he ground out. It didn’t sound real,
like something from a story.

“I found information on a lot of things. Forgotten things, hidden things. Forbidden,” Zhao
said. “In a library, now buried and lost.” His eyes sharpened, like he had just realised he
should not be flapping his mouth about having accessed forbidden knowledge. The Fire
Nation didn’t like things like that.

“Finding it must have taken a lot of work,” Kazuma said earnestly, making an effort to slur
his words. He knocked over his own cup as he reached for the bottle. “My apologies,
Admiral! I confess I may have had too much to drink.”

Zhao relaxed a little, content that Kazuma would probably not remember the finer details of
their conversation come morning. “Nonsense. Here,” he said as he took the bottle and righted
Kazuma’s cup, pouring him another drink. “Although, if you continue, you may not have the
stamina for the rest of the night. I did not bring you here to just drink, after all. I will buy you
company for the night.” He smiled sly and pleased, with another fake expression of
sympathy. “As you have been spurned by your woman, and in thanks for the wine.”

Kazuma had been dreading this part. It was clear the man had an ulterior motive. Blackmail,
probably, or something to use against him. And Kazuma had more than enough of that on his
plate already.

Still, he didn’t really have a choice.

The woman Zhao had bought for him was tall and pretty, dressed in red and orange silks that
exposed her stomach and arms. Kazuma sat in the chair in the room he had been sent to and
watched her as she knelt to pour him wine. She was demure and polite, but he thought there
was a wariness to her, like she was not looking forward to what the night would bring. If
Zhao was a regular here, Kazuma could understand why. A man like that might spend time
with others that shared his tastes. Power, violence, control.

All Kazuma wished to control was himself. And perhaps Ichika’s frequent messes. How one
woman could produce so many crumbs was beyond him.

“You see Admiral Zhao often?” he asked her as she waited for instruction.

“He is a regular customer, when in town,” she said neutrally.

“Is he kind to you?”

She kept her eyes on the wine. “He is good to me.”

Not the same thing at all. He paid well; he was not kind.

“What name shall I call you by?” he asked, accepting the cup she handed him.
“Xin yan.”

He nodded. Watching her carefully. “I will be blunt. I do not frequent brothels. I do not enjoy
the touch of others.” A lie. Sometimes he yearned for it. Burned for it. But certainly not like
this. “I have no interest in whatever games Zhao usually plays with you.”

Her shoulders relaxed, just a fraction, and Kazuma felt a sliver of anger. He hated Zhao. This
girl looked barely into her twenties, but he suspected it wouldn’t have mattered to the admiral
if she had been far younger.

“Did he ask you to spy on me? Indulge in some pillow talk, perhaps?”

There was a small flicker of something on her face that betrayed her denial. She looked afraid
under her studied blankness.

“Perhaps we could be of use to one another,” he said, taking a tiny sip of his drink. “I could
provide you with information that he wishes for, things to do with my personal life, I
suspect.” He wished he was not drunk, and he wished he could take another mouthful of
substandard wine and just drown in it. “In turn, I would like you to tell him we spent a good
night together. Or a bad one, if you prefer. Rather than talking, which is what I would prefer.”

She glanced at him with something knowing that made familiar fear squirm in his gut. “I
have a fair few talking clients, Captain. They tend to be my favourite.”

He nodded towards his wine. “Feel free, if you want some.”

She knelt beside him and poured herself a small amount, not enough for intoxication. Smart
girl. “What did you want to talk about?” she asked.

“How about Admiral Zhao?”

She shot him a small, narrow smile.

Clearly Ichika had been waiting up for him. She looked harried and was working at the low
ornate desk in their rooms. It had probably been a long night for her. Good.

Unfortunately, he misjudged the door-frame just a tad and bounced slightly off the wood as
he made it inside.

“Kazuma, are you drunk?” Ichika asked. Raising an eyebrow and getting to her feet in
apparent concern.

“Regrettably,” he said, as he strode into the room. His steps were steady at least, slight
mishap with the door notwithstanding.

“You smell like a brothel.” Ichika wrinkled her nose.

She was right. He stank of perfume and incense. “That is because I was at the Falling
Blossom.”
“I see,” she said, doubt all over her face.

“Do you not think that is somewhere I would go, Ichika?” Spirits, he had to get out of these
clothes. He took off his robe and threw it on the floor angrily, before slipping on a new one.
He could still smell it. It was in his hair.

She observed him as he undid the bindings to let his topknot down. She was the only person
he would do so with. He was intensely private about his hair, like all of his past was kept
there.

“I would not expect you to visit a brothel, no.”

“Oh?” He picked up the discarded robe again, unable to just leave it where he had thrown it.
He squeezed it briefly in his hands before folding it tightly and shoving it in his laundry
basket to be collected tomorrow. He snatched up his comb and scented oil. The musky, spicy
smell would cover the stink that was on him.

Ichika sighed and sat back down, using her weak bending to reheat the tea in the pot. Utterly
ruining the flavour, no doubt.

“No, Kazuma. You had a fit that time you got arrested and had to spend the night in the
cells...”

The reminder briefly distracted him from his current woes. “They made me wear other
people’s shoes!” He pointed at his feet. “Other. People’s. Shoes,” he added, in case the first
time didn’t quite get his point across.

“And you got incredibly stressed that time someone put your jacket on by mistake. So no, I
do not expect you to even sit on a bed that multiple people have used for sex.” She poured
them both some tea.

Kazuma shuddered in horror. That would be far worse than the shoes, and that had given him
nightmares for perhaps longer than was strictly healthy.

“How did you survive the ranks?” Ichika muttered.

“Bloody minded stubbornness,” Kazuma said, as he sat in his chair and tucked his feet up. He
watched her for a moment. “Ichika, are you a traitor?”

She paused, wide eyed, tea cup on the way to her mouth. “What?”

“Are you a traitor?” Kazuma made sure to enunciate carefully. “Have you been or are you
planning to commit treason against the Fire Lord?”

“What kind of question is that?” She scowled at him.

“I notice you have not answered the question,” he said softly.

“Of course I’m not.”

He took the two letters out of his pocket and threw them on to the table between them. She
stared at them. She was good at hiding her feelings, but he knew her. He knew. She looked
worried.

“A woman can’t write to an old friend?”

“There’s a cipher in these letters.”

“Are you going through people’s post, Kazuma?” she asked. Her words sounded annoyed,
but there was anxiety in her face.

“I had a visit from Crown Princess Azula today.”

Ichika put down the teacup.

“She made a fairly convincing case for staging a coup. Of course, she blackmailed me to
make sure I didn’t make the wrong choice.”

“Why did she come after you?” Ichika sounded aghast, which was kind of how he felt.

“Zhao, I think. I only worked out who the Blue Spirit was this morning. About five minutes
before she came in and proved me right. Would to have been good to know, Ichika.”

Ichika grimaced. “I’m sorry, but you should have listened to me.” She sighed, looking pained.
“What did she blackmail you over?” she asked quietly. “Is it something you can escape from
if we run?”

He closed his eyes, breathing out heavily. “No, at least I can’t. She could ruin my sister or kill
her. You could, though. You could run, and I will do what I can to keep you safe.”

“You never mention your family. Aside from saying you’re estranged.”

“I don’t care if my parents are ruined by rumour, but my sister... I can’t allow it if I can stop
it.”

They sat in silence for a moment. He didn’t feel her radiating the ‘I told you so’ he had
expected. Instead, she seemed to be furiously thinking. Probably trying to come up with a
way to save him and Yume. She was a very clever woman, but he didn’t think she could find
a way out of this one.

“What does she have on you, other than knowing your family name? How serious is it?”

“Serious enough,” he said bleakly. “You never asked why I was disinherited.”

“I assumed you would tell me if you wanted to. I have made my judgements on your
character from knowing you, not the past. It doesn’t matter to me.”

“Thank you, Ichika.” He stared at the hair he had clenched in his hand. He had not cut it since
his father had forcibly shaved his head with a knife, and it was long enough to almost reach
his waist. “Can you guess, do you think?”
“Yes, I can guess.” She looked at him, her expression soft. “I might be wrong, of course, but
if I am right, in my eyes at least, no crime was committed.”

“Because I was young?”

“No, because the law is stupid. That is assuming we are talking about the law I think we are,
and you didn’t messily murder someone.” Her lips twitched.

Kazuma’s chest felt tight. Two people knowing and not caring in one day. He wasn’t sure if
he was equipped to deal with these feelings at the moment.

She poured him a cup of over-boiled tea. “Now, onto the other problem.” She picked up the
letters and read over them quickly.

“Princess Azula has asked me to break the cipher. But I won’t, if it puts you at risk,” he said.

“There is no evidence I wrote this letter, other than your knowledge of my handwriting. No
reason anyone should look to me. I was merely the scribe, the funnel through which
information was passed. My letter is out of date by some time.” She handed it back to him.
“It reads that the Avatar has been spotted with General Iroh and a Water Tribe girl. It says...
that aid should be given to them.”

So, treason. Expected at this point. But that was not what had caught his attention. “A Water
Tribe girl?”

“The Avatar’s master, perhaps.”

“Strange that aside from Chief Hakoda’s fleet causing trouble, there has been practically no
contact with the Water Tribes, other than our own raids, and now the Avatar is in the
company of a Water Tribe girl. And the Blue Spirit, Prince Zuko, traitor to the throne, is
travelling with a Water Tribe boy, Chief Hakoda’s son, no less.”

Ichika narrowed her eyes at him in mild irritation at his deviation from the rather pressing
topic at hand. “I don’t know anything for certain, but before the battle at the North Pole, the
intel I received suggested the Avatar was travelling with two Water Tribe kids from the South
Pole. After the battle, there was just one.”

“The South Pole.” He cracked his knuckles, then tapped his fingers against his tea cup.
“Interesting, that. If Hakoda’s son was the boy with the Avatar, could it then mean that the
Blue Spirit is involved with the Avatar too? I suppose it makes sense if General Iroh was
travelling with them as well. Not to mention Pohuai.” He ran his comb through the clump of
hair he was strangling, giving himself a moment. “And the second letter?”

“This one is for General Iroh himself. It says that Prince Zuko is alive and in the Earth
Kingdom, possibly with the army. It mentions an army captain, although it doesn’t name
him.”

“So they were split up at the North Pole, the Water Tribe boy and Zuko were captured, and
the girl, Iroh and the Avatar continued on their journey.” Kazuma let out a frustrated breath.
“How would they know about Shen... Captain Shen,” he corrected himself quickly. He
narrowed his eyes. “Who is this letter from?”

Ichika pursed her lips.

“Who is it from, Ichika?”

“It is from Piandao. I assume sent before we left.”

Of course it was, because this was the exact information he had given his friend. “It’s not his
hand.”

“He is a master calligrapher, Kazuma. he is skilled at changing his handwriting.”

“Putting aside the fact my only two friends have been practising sedition behind my back,”
Kazuma said tightly. He would deal with his feelings about that later. Right now he had a
headache that was bound to lead to a hangover, and the issue of the letters was more
important. “What do I do with this information? Give it to Azula? Conceal it? Find Iroh and
tell him?” He tugged his comb through his hair angrily. The scent of the oil was familiar and
soothing, but it did little to calm his nerves.

Ichika considered, tapping the letter on the table as she thought. “We must return these to her.
Say you do not know who sent them and tell her the contents. I will show you the key to the
cipher. I will let people know the code has been exposed.”

“You think she already knows their contents? That it’s a test?”

“It’s very possible. I don’t think we should risk it. Give it a few days if you can, for breathing
room. If she is truly planning a coup, we are going to be caught in the middle of it. I’m
prepared for that. I’ve been preparing for years, although I had not thought it would be with
Princess Azula, of all people.”

He would tell her about Lady Ursa and Azula’s motives later. “General Iroh is also involved.
We could tell him the contents of the letter,” Kazuma said, then shook his head. “No, we
can’t. If he learns of this so soon after I claim to have cracked this code, she will know or
suspect where the information came from.”

“We tell her what the letters say, and otherwise hold our tongues. If you are sure you wish to
go along with her demands?”

“I don’t feel I have another option. But you..”

“I have no intention of running from this. The circumstances are not ideal, but a coup is
something I want to happen. And I certainly won’t leave you to deal with it alone.” She
snorted. “Otherwise you might end up in prison again, wearing other people’s shoes and
ranting at the jailer.”

He sighed. “Why do you put up with me?”

She pointedly brushed some leftover crumbs off the desk and onto the floor. “Why do you put
up with me? I suspect it’s the same reason. Now go to bed and sleep it off. You can tell me
about your brothel adventure tomorrow.”

He shuddered. “Don’t remind me.”

………………………………………

The progress of Huang’s army had slowed, even as the terrain had improved. The problem
was the people. The countryside seemed awash with refugees with nowhere to go, and more
than a few had begun to tag along behind them like camp followers. Ba Sing Se had closed
her gates, Fire Nation forces were gathering at Full Moon Bay, and on the northeastern banks
of the river. There was nowhere for refugees to go. They saw Huang’s people as their only
option.

Hakoda felt a certain responsibility toward them, and he thought despite the difficulties,
Huang did too. They were in a tricky position at the moment. Stuck on the wrong side of the
river. Moving across too soon could be catastrophic, but then, if they waited too long, would
the forces gathering further upriver mean they couldn’t cross at all?

“Waiting is chafing the men,” Bato said. He was cleaning their weapons for the hundredth
time. Inaction was getting under everyone’s skin. “Rakuq is being loud and annoying again.”

“He’s always loud and annoying,” Hakoda said dryly. At least he was less enthusiastic about
stirring up trouble with Yao than he had been. The loss of the 54th and the general’s plans for
Zuli, even after the boy had proven himself, had been as distasteful to him as they had been
to the rest of the Water Tribe warriors, and a fair few of Huang’s own. Now he was much
more in favour of leaving the Earth folk behind and operating alone.

Bato wrinkled his nose. “He wants yet another meeting to discuss plans. We have to nip this
in the bud, Hakoda. It’s got trouble written all over it.”

“I know, Bato. I know.”

Bato opened his mouth, but they were momentarily distracted by noise from outside the tent.
The camp was always loud, but they were finely tuned to the different kinds of racket the
soldiers produced. Instead of speaking further, Bato rose to his feet and looked out of the tent
flap.

“Do I need to get up?” Hakoda asked, with only a small amount of whine in his voice. He
didn’t want to deal with whatever this was. It was the first time he had been able to just sit
down for what felt like days.

“No fighting. Just a lot of running around,” Bato reported. “Fuck knows. Doesn’t seem to
concern us. At least not yet.” He sat back down and picked up his spear, looking for another
spot to clean. A pointless task, the thing was practically gleaming.
Hakoda had just begun to relax again when the tent flap flipped open with no ceremony.

“Hakoda!” Panuk stuck his head into the tent. He looked excited, his lined face alight and
animated. “You are needed. It’s Captain Shen, he’s come back!”

Hakoda met Bato’s eyes, wide with surprise. This was possibly the last thing he had
expected. He had not thought he would ever meet his friend again. He had been certain Shen
had met a very unpleasant death at the hands of the men who had taken him.

He scrambled to his feet, grabbing his knife out of habit, and followed Bato out into the
camp. The soldiers were scurrying around with mixed expressions of wonder and concern.
They set off towards the largest collection of men, all jostling and muttering. Hakoda tried to
keep his pace slow enough for Panuk, but Bato’s longer legs kept taking him ahead of the
group and he had already begun elbowing soldiers out of the way by the time Hakoda
reached them. They allowed him through with little trouble, more due to their respect for
Panuk, than any they were holding for Hakoda’s rank.

It was Shen. He was leading a ragged collection of men into the centre of the camp. He
looked worn and had lost weight, but he was grinning, one hand clutching the reins of a fat
ostrich horse with a teenage girl perched on its back. That was a surprise, although perhaps it
shouldn’t have been. Apparently Shen’s habit of picking up strays had continued. He really
hoped this one was less trouble than the last.

Hakoda could see Huang hurrying down from his tent on the small rise in their clearing. He
was still strapping on his armour. Time was short and Hakoda pushed himself through the last
of the crowd.

Shen grinned wider and stepped forward, holding out an arm to clasp, Water Tribe style.
Hakoda gripped it, then pulled him in for a hug. Some things shouldn’t stand on ceremony.

“How?” he asked, as he drew back. “How are you alive, Shen? I thought for sure that…'' he
trailed off. It seemed rude to bring up his almost certain death, not to mention what might
have happened to him in the time he had been gone.

Shen gave him one of his familiar, lopsided smiles. “Yeah. It’s been an interesting few
weeks.” Hakoda glanced at the girl, who was staring at him curiously. She waved.

“This is Suki,” Shen said. “I don’t know how things are going to go down, Hakoda. I need
you to keep an eye on my people here. Suki will help you navigate things, but…” He
shrugged.

This did not sound good, and Hakoda frowned at him. “What do you mean, ‘go down’?”

“Huang’s nearly on us,” Bato said. He reached out to take the reins of Shen’s ostrich horse
and the big bird dipped her head low and swung behind him, knocking him forward a pace.

Then it bit him right on the backside.

Shen snorted as Bato clutched himself and cussed loudly.

While Hakoda could understand the impulse to bite Bato—it was a very nice arse, after all, it
was at the moment the bird moved herself back to glare victoriously that Hakoda recognised
her.

Hakoda staggered a little as he was jostled, men were pressing forward, greeting each other in
celebration. His stomach filled with anxiety as he stared at Dumpling. It was definitely her,
the round middle and the malicious glint in her eyes. The boys had left with her, and now
here she was, with no Sokka.

“Where’s my son?” Hakoda said, squeezing Shen’s arm far harder than he should.

“Calm yourself, Hakoda. The boys are fine, or they were when I last saw them. Heading for
Ba Sing Se as planned,” Shen said soothingly. “They rescued me from Lao Fort. Then we,
um, broke a bunch of people out of East Lake. And then headed here. Sokka and Zuli split
from us a week ago. They made the other side of the river. That’s all I know.” He patted
Hakoda’s hand where it was still squeezing his bicep. “They will be fine, Hakoda. Trust me.”
Then he stepped closer, so his words were hidden in the clamour. “I need you to keep an eye
on Suki for me. And all the refugees. Qinwen is the healer, she's honest, and good at her
trade.”

“Captain Shen!” Huang had finally pushed himself to the front of the sea of excited men.

Another man strode up beside Shen. He stood with the sort of confidence you would expect
from high rank, although his salt and pepper hair was cut short and rough.

Shen bowed to Huang. “General, may I present Commander Wei, formally of the East 14th
Division.”

“Commander, this is fortuitous indeed,” Huang said, clearly lying. “We will settle your
people, make sure everyone is fed. Perhaps Hakoda could help with that?”

Of course. His warships did make excellent fishing vessels, after all. “Do you not think it
sensible for the Water Tribe’s to be involved in discussions?” Hakoda said, voice perhaps a
little too sharp.

Commander Wei turned to him. He actually smiled, which seemed to be something of a break
in protocol, and he bowed low. “Chief Hakoda. I am truly honoured to meet you. I have heard
much of your tactical mind, and your exploits in the Mo Ce Sea are the stuff of legends.” It
seemed that Wei outranked Huang, that was going to make things interesting. “I will ensure
that you and the Water Tribes are fully represented and involved in the discussions about the
war efforts,” he continued. “But first there are some disciplinary and logistical matters that
must be discussed within our own ranks.”

“Captain Shen?” Huang nodded back up towards the command tent.

“See you later, Hakoda,” Shen said with another smile, but he looked like a man preparing
for a fight. Hakoda had a bad feeling.
There wasn’t much he could do about it now, though, so he turned to the girl, who had
dismounted, and was holding Dumpling’s reins.

She caught his eye and sighed. “Shen broke the rules rescuing the 54th from East Lake, so
now I think they might arrest him for it. Even though one of the people he saved was Wei.”

“Seems fair,” Bato said bitterly. “Have I mentioned how much I hate Earth Kingdom army
politics?”

“Not today. It was overdue.” Hakoda turned to Bato and Panuk. “Can you get people settled,
make arrangements for the refugees? I’ll catch up to you shortly.” He nodded to Suki, and
they began pushing their way clear of the soldiers. Dumpling helped. Her beak took no
prisoners.

“How did you come to be part of things?” He asked once they were free of the press of
bodies, not bothering with an introduction, she clearly knew who he was.

“Long story. Short version is I met your son and Li before, when Sokka was still travelling
with his sister. Stuff happened, I ended up imprisoned in Lao Fort. Li and Sokka rescued me
when they came for Shen. Then I helped rescue my warriors from East Lake, along with the
54th and a bunch of other people. Now here we are.” She waved a hand at the general chaos.
“We need to keep an eye on the 54th if things go poorly.”

Hakoda would be having words with the Earth Kingdom folk if things went ‘poorly.’ It was
not often a friend came back from the dead, and to lose Shen again at the hands of his own
people... It was not acceptable.

“Tell me everything you know about the situation,” he said.

Hakoda sat with the survivors of the 54th, while they and Suki told their stories about what
happened. It was horrifying how few of Shen’s unit were left. He thought he could
understand why Shen had taken the risk to save them. To him, these men were family, and he
clearly had a strong bond with them.

They sat and talked, but did not speculate on what was happening in the command tent. There
was a feeling of waiting, of approaching disaster.

The hours were long before Wei came to find them. Shen was not with him.

“Chief Hakoda,” Wei said with a respectful bow. “Would I be able to trouble you for a
moment of your time?”

Guo cleared his throat in a way that sounded distinctly threatening. “Excuse me for speaking
out of turn,” he said, failing to give Wei his title and watching him closely with his dark eyes.
“But considering all that’s happened, I think it’s fair to tell us the situation, too.”
Wei turned to him. “Lieutenant Guo, I know you are close to Captain Shen. And the loyalty
he and your men have for one another is commendable. Unfortunately, there is not much I
can do, except ask for some leniency. Sentencing has not officially taken place yet, but it is
likely to be imprisonment or exile.”

There was a lot of angry muttering among the men, and Wei held up a hand. “I assure you
death is off the table. I made my feelings very clear on that front. Shen is a good man, and a
very capable leader. It is a great shame to lose him.”

“Shame,” Guo echoed. “Yeah, that’s a word.”

Hakoda was very aware how close to insubordination the other man was treading. Wei was
the highest ranking soldier in the camp from what he could gather, and he was being very
lenient with the rudeness so far. “Commander Wei,” he said. “Shen saved you and your men,
surely there is something more that you can do?”

“I will do what I can. The 54th will be reassigned, but I will do my best to keep you
together.” He nodded to Hakoda and gestured for him to join him away from the fire. Hakoda
rose to his feet. It was not like he could turn him down.

“I will cut to the chase,” Wei said as they walked. “Yao argued for execution.” His mouth
twisted into a sneer. “Odious little man. I would never allow it. But you understand I am
trapped by regulation.”

Hakoda was well aware of the frustrations of leadership, but it didn’t help the anger in his
stomach.

Wei gestured out at the woods as he continued. “Huang wanted to reassign him to the front,
which is tantamount to a death sentence. Not because of the fighting, fighting here will be
just as bad when it begins, but because of the humiliation and the loss he will face without
some support. Men don’t survive it. They try to find glorious death, but we both know that it
usually ends with a burned up corpse in a ditch.” He sighed with clear aggravation. “The only
option I could suggest that may keep him alive is to send him back to the base in the west, to
General Fong. He is a dedicated man, it is likely Shen would serve some time in the military
prison, before being sent back to the ranks.”

“It’s not good enough,” Hakoda said, not bothering to hide his anger. “It’s unjust!”

“It’s the law. As much as I like the man, I can’t flout it. Or at least I can’t be seen to.” He
didn’t look at Hakoda, but he seemed pensive. “You and Captain Shen are friends, are you
not?”

“We are.”

Wei nodded. “Then I will have two requests for you. He will be flogged tomorrow at dawn.
Nothing too serious or debilitating, but upsetting for his men. I would like you to keep them
away.”
Hakoda could see the wisdom in that, no point in compounding the issue with the 54th
getting themselves in trouble too.

Wei shook his head, looking truly angry for the first time. “It’s a fine line we are walking
with this one, and Huang is stubborn in his dislike. The men, not just 54th and those from
East Lake, will be viewing Shen as a hero.”

“Rightly so.” Hakoda kept a close eye on the surrounding woods, checking for anyone close
enough to hear them. He suspected the next part of their conversation would not be
something he wanted overheard.

Wei nodded. “But it is for this reason that he has to be publicly punished, people must not
seek to emulate him. But…” he trailed off.

“If you punish him too severely, he becomes a martyr.”

“Precisely.” Wei sighed. “I hate the restrictions placed on me in this. Shen and I have our
differences, I am still quite angry with him, but not so much I want to see him harmed. And
not so much to diminish my opinion of him. He is a good man, a loyal one, and to squander
that is just foolishness.” He looked genuinely upset, and Hakoda was inclined to believe the
emotion was real.

“And your second request?”

“Despite what I said earlier, if this plan goes ahead, Shen will die,” Wei said bluntly. “He will
fail to make it to Fong.”

Hakoda stopped and turned to Wei. He just about prevented himself from grabbing the other
man and shaking him. “Are you suggesting his own people might murder him?”

“I’m sure of it. Shen is a potential rallying point for dissent, despite his loyalty, or perhaps
because of it. Heroic rule breaking? Daring rescues with the Blue Spirit? Saving his men
from certain death?” He shook his head. “There are already rumblings. Huang is foolish to
ignore them, he could use this to his advantage, but instead...” His weatherbeaten face
creased in anger again. “No, the real reason is what happened to his unit, and the result of
that. While Huang sending the 54th into a trap was not against regulations, it left him open,
down a whole squadron of men, and when the camp was attacked, his losses were far greater
than they should have been. That, more than any of Shen’s actions, put this mission for Ba
Sing Se in jeopardy. Both Huang and Yao will lose face when Shen explains this at his
disciplinary hearing. They might lose more.”

Fucking politics. There was a lot to cover, and Hakoda didn’t know how far he trusted Wei,
the man had his own agenda. “You are the senior officer here, can’t you call them out on it
now?”

“If I do, it will cause chaos. We can’t afford that so close to the action. Huang knows my
hands are tied.”
This was a lot more complicated than Hakoda had thought. “If they are willing to kill one of
their own to cover their tracks, does that not put you at risk of a similar fate?”

Wei hummed. “Yes, yes, it does. If I were to die in battle, it would be fortuitous for them. I
shall need friends.” He glanced over at Hakoda out of the corner of his eye. “We can’t fail in
this mission, and although Huang is looking after his own interests, he will not put Ba Sing
Se in jeopardy. Yao might, but not Huang. Despite everything, his loyalty is strong.”

“So, Shen. We have to act before he is sent away,” Hakoda said bluntly. That was where this
was leading, no point beating around the bush.

Wei nodded with a small smile. “I like your forthrightness. So I will also be blunt. Freeing
him might not be enough. He has been a part of the army for over half a lifetime. It’s going to
be a difficult and brutal change for him, a loss like that. It’s a betrayal. I’ve seen men go
through it. They seek death, in battle or at the bottom of a bottle.”

“Speak plainly, what do you need?” Hakoda was no fool, Wei would sacrifice Shen if he had
to, he had another aim here.

“He needs direction, a task. Support.”

“Such as?” The dark felt like it was closing in on them, away from the main camp, with just
the fires burning in the distance and the faint light from the moon.

“Are you aware that Li is the Blue Spirit?” Wei asked.

“I had my suspicions.” No point in admitting it outright.

“You didn’t think to keep him here? Having a boy with mixed blood commanding the hearts
and imaginations of the people is complicated.” He paused, contemplative. “Having any
teenager in that position is a risk. But even given his mixed parentage, he could still be
incredibly useful to us and the cause, if correctly directed.”

Hakoda nodded vaguely. He didn’t think Zuli would be directed by anyone, much less the
Earth army. Mixed or full-blooded, he had no love for them and even less trust. “I considered
their safety, not politics,” Hakoda said. “Huang wanted to use Li as bait for the admiral who
was chasing them. Shen and I both objected to this idea. Shen was sent to almost certain
death for it. I chose the path that offered the least risk for my son, and that meant getting
them out of the camp.”

“I see.”

Hakoda made a frustrated noise. “Speak plainly, man. What do you intend? What do you
want from me?”

“I will ask Shen to keep an eye on them. Is that not also what you would like? To have
someone watch out for your boy?” Wei smiled, another genuine looking expression, despite
the obvious manipulation. “A remarkable young man. Very bright, inquisitive. He has the
makings of something special, I think. Although he can talk for days on end.”
Hakoda’s lip curled in wry amusement in spite of himself. “Yeah, that he can. What are you
proposing?”

“Tomorrow, at sunup, Shen will be flogged. Then there will be a day for recovery before the
journey to Fong begins. With your help, I am hoping to free him before that.”

Hakoda wasn’t stupid. If this escape plan was discovered, Wei would deny his involvement.
It would be Hakoda, Shen’s friend and confidant, who would get all the blame.

But the practical part of Hakoda kind of understood all that. Wei could just do nothing. It was
something that he was willing to act at all.

“I wish to see him before I decide anything.”

“That can be arranged.”

Shen was sitting on a bare bedroll, in clean clothes, but plain, not army issue. He looked
miserable, but stoic, and glanced at Hakoda when he entered, offering what might have
passed for a smile in other circumstances.

“We will get you out of this.” Hakoda couldn’t believe he had gone from thinking his friend
was dead, to joy in his survival, to this in only a few hours. He felt dizzy.

Shen scowled. “No. I won’t desert. I won’t leave. I was prepared for this.” It sounded like this
was not the first time he’d had this discussion, or a version of it. He looked deeply unhappy.
He may have been prepared for it, but he had still hoped it wouldn’t have come to this.

“Has Wei spoken to you about what they are planning?”

“Yeah.”

“That Yao or Huang might try to have you murdered to stop you talking when you get to
Fong?”

“Yes. It doesn’t change anything. If the bastards want to kill me they can go ahead, it’s on
them.” There were angry tears in his eyes, but they didn’t fall. Perhaps held at bay by pure
obstinacy.

Hakoda only had a brief overview of what had happened, since they had seen each other last.
But he didn’t think his friend had really had a chance to deal with any of it, the emotional
fallout of being tortured, captured, losing his men, nearly drowning, hyperthermia, and now
this. Even if he agreed to their escape plan, it was going to be messy when he finally got
enough peace to process it all.

“They won’t feel guilt for it, Shen. Even Wei won’t. He has done what he can.”

“I don’t care.” Spirits, he sounded like Zuli. No wonder they got on so well.
“You are a stubborn idiot. Being dead helps no one.”

Shen had one knee drawn up, an arm resting on it. And he leaned his forehead into his hand.
“Being alive is hardly helping, either. I won’t leave.”

“You could go to Ba Sing Se? Assist the boys?” Hakoda glared at him. Shen’s jaw was set
stubbornly. He really embodied the Earth stereotype. And while that obstinacy had kept him
alive, it was also what was going to get him killed. Hakoda thought he might be able to
change his mind with time. But that was something he didn’t have.

As if proving his point, a soldier stuck his head into the tent. “Chief Hakoda? I’m afraid
that’s all the time we have,” he said. He kept sending worried glances at Shen, clearly
concerned for him, even though he was not one of the 54th.

“I’ll speak to you again,” Hakoda said. It would have to be after the flogging tomorrow. He
wished he could find a way to avoid that, but it was unlikely he would manage to see his
friend again tonight.

Shen nodded, but said nothing.

Hakoda stepped outside into the cool night air. It felt like rain was coming, although the sky
was still clear, the moon shining her light down on them. “Where is Commander Wei?” he
asked the soldier.

“I will take you to him.” The man hesitated a moment. “Will Cap... will Shen be okay?”

“I will make him be okay,” Hakoda said with a lot more confidence than he felt.
“Lieutenant...?”

“Heng, sir. Shen was kind to me when I didn’t deserve it. He understood…” he signed. “The
law must be done. But I wish it was different.”

“Me too, Lieutenant Heng. Me too.”

Wei was waiting for him in his newly erected tent, and he rose to his feet as Hakoda entered.

“He’s going to be stubborn about it,” Hakoda said, as he accepted Wei’s invitation to sit. He
recognised some of the trappings had come from Huang’s tent. Apparently, rank also got you
the nicest stuff.

“I thought he might,” Wei sighed. “Would you like tea?”

“No, thank you.” Unlike Bato, Hakoda didn’t like the Earth blends much. They tasted weak
and insipid.

Wei nodded and poured himself a cup from the clay teapot on his table. Yao’s teapot, Hakoda
noted with satisfaction.

“I hate to say it, but perhaps the flogging might help our cause. Make the situation more
real,” Wei said. “He will also be officially stripped of his rank.” He let out another long sigh.
“I will speak to him tomorrow, after it is done, and the healer has tended to him.”

“I’m not sure it will make a difference.”

“We shall see. In the meantime, perhaps you can speak to the girl. She may be the key if she
is willing to go.”

“What makes you think she might?”

Wei sipped his tea, looking very relaxed. “They are close, she was involved with one of the
boys. Although I’m not sure which one.”

That was surprising, and if he was honest, pleasing news to Hakoda, who had been resigning
himself to the possibility of a Fire Nation son-in-law. Although it was possible the three of
them were in some sort of relationship. Those things tended to get messy when people
entered into such an arrangement so young. But that was all a part of growing up. He, Bato
and Kya had managed it with only the occasional ridiculous drama. And it had been
ridiculous. But they had resolved their issues with time and understanding. Even with Kya’s
murder, Hakoda still thought himself the luckiest man alive; to have had two such loves in his
life, and two beautiful children. Even with the crushing loss of his wife, he had no regrets for
the past.

“I will speak to her.”

“I don’t know,” Suki said. “Leaving my Kyoshi Warriors behind would be ignoring my duty,
but I can’t take them—not when we would have to go without Jing.”

“I understand from your healer that she may live.”

Suki smiled, a warm expression. Hakoda didn’t know her well, but he found that he liked
what he had seen of her. “Yes. Qinwen told me it’s likely she has beaten the odds. But there is
still a long way to go before she could be fit to travel.”

“I’m glad. And I understand your concerns. This situation is far from ideal. Perhaps you
could speak to them? See what they think? I don’t want you to make a choice that you will
regret.”

She shut her eyes and poked the low fire with a stick, shifting the coals. “I owe a lot to Shen,
too.”

Hakoda nodded. “I do think that Shen will need all the help he can get. But you should know
that it won’t be easy. Wei was right when he said it’s going to have hit him hard. Shen’s
stubborn, if he decides to throw his life away it’s going to be tricky to keep him together.”

“I can do it,” she said with all the confidence of youth. “He’s a bullheaded man, but his
weakness is caring for others. The army, these people, are all he had known for years. And
now they have betrayed him, although he might not see it like that. Not yet.”
“You will consider it, then?”

“Yes, I will speak to my girls. You should make arrangements one way or another. And… see
if you can get a better handle on Wei. I don’t trust his motives. Or at least I’m not sure of
them.”

Hakoda agreed. He thought Wei had been honest about his motivations; he wanted to control
the Blue Spirit as some sort of propaganda for his people. Use it in a positive way. But Zuli
wouldn’t do it. Not a chance. So when faced with a mixed blood teenager refusing to behave
appropriately, it might be easier to replace him with a Blue Spirit that did do as he was told.

Much better he never got the chance to try.

“I will keep an eye on him, don’t worry on that account.” He smiled at her. “He tells me you
are involved with one of the boys. Is it too much to hope it’s my son?”

She looked at him for a moment, then laughed. “Trying to avoid the inevitable, Chief
Hakoda?”

He signed. “Wishful thinking?”

“Oh yeah.” She chucked, grinning.

Hakoda didn’t watch the flogging. He didn’t think Shen would want him to, and he made
Guo keep his men away too. He had sent Bato to keep an eye on things from a distance—he
didn’t want to take any chances in case things went wrong.

Waiting was unpleasant, so he decided to go for optimism and pack in preparation for Shen
and Suki’s departure. They would need money, food, and clothes. He added whatever else he
could think of that might come in useful and fit in a bag that could be easily carried. They
would have to go on foot, they wouldn’t be able to sneak an ostrich horse out of the camp—
after Sokka and Zuli had made it out with Dumpling, security had increased.

By the time Bato returned, he had everything ready, although there were still many hours
before he could act.

Bato looked grim. “They didn’t go easy, despite what Wei said.”

“I didn’t think they would.” Yao had been in charge. He didn’t even bother to hide his hatred.

“Do you trust him? Wei?”

“Not as far as I could throw him. But I do think he would put the mission above personal
gain.” Whatever the cost.

“Wei is going to speak to Shen. He said he would persuade him,” Bato said.

Hakoda narrowed his eyes. “I don’t know if I like that, to be honest. I’d prefer to know what
he intends to offer to achieve it.”
“Thought you might say that. I’ve made arrangements with the guards. Two of them are ours.
I thought I might swap places with one, maybe have a listen.” Bato had his special warm
smile on.

Hakoda clapped him on one broad shoulder. “You are the best second a man could ask for.”

“I know.”

“Modest, too. I’ll do it, though. You’re too tall, you’ll be easily recognised.”

Bato handed him a helmet. “Thought you might say that, too.”

They timed it well. Wei had entered the tent, and his guards were easily distracted with talk
of the battle that was bound to happen soon. One of the men was Heng, and Hakoda was sure
he had been recognised, but Heng turned and began to talk to the Water Tribe guards, along
with the others, and Hakoda slipped around the side of the tent without challenge.

He slid a carved buffalo yak horn out of his tunic and he got as close as he dared, before
placing it to his ear to amplify the sound.

“I won’t,” Shen was saying. “I’m not a deserter.”

He could hear Wei sigh. He did that a lot. “Someone has to. I would rather it be you. Suki
will be going, and she will need protection.”

“Anyone can offer that, send Guo,” Shen’s voice was flat.

“It’s not just your life and freedom I’m offering,” Wei said, his voice dropping. “If you bring
the boy back to me, I can use it to reinstate you. You belong with us, Shen. I don’t want to
lose such a good officer, but I need your help to make it happen.”

“No.”

“No harm would come to him, in fact, he would be safer with us, I would guarantee it with
my life. And I would offer you a new unit, with the men from the 54th, and others of your
choosing. I can’t promise their safety, otherwise, you know that.”

Wei was a clever man. Shen had unwavering loyalty to his men, he wanted them back. They
were family to him. The shame of being publicly stripped of his rank must have burned too.
It was a good offer, save face, protect your loved ones.

“You would keep them safe until my return?” Shen asked, voice quiet. “It might take a
while.”

“Of course. Everything in my power. The refugees too. They’ll be a logistical nightmare, but
one we have a responsibility to make work. Hakoda will help, I think.”
“He’s a good man,” Shen said.

Bato appeared from around the side of the tent and beckoned. Out of time. But Hakoda had
enough to know what the play was going to be. It would just be a matter of seeing if Shen
would take the bait.

He was allowed to speak to Shen one last time before nightfall, on the pretext of information
about Sokka.

He didn’t look any different than he had the previous night. Although he was dressed in a
looser tunic, it was obvious that he was bandaged around the torso.

“Will you go?” Hakoda asked, squatting beside his friend. “I know Wei spoke to you.”

Shen stared at his hands, knuckles scarred and rough from years of fighting. “Yeah,” he said,
voice quiet and miserable.

Hakoda debated bringing up the conversation he had overheard. He didn’t really want to
admit to spying on his friend, especially when he was so low, and even if he had done it out
of an effort to protect him. “What did he offer you?” he asked. That was vague enough, and it
was obvious Wei had an angle.

Shen laughed bitterly. “Everything I could want. My unit, my rank, my honour.” He looked
close to tears again for a moment, and Hakoda’s heart ached for him.

“Will you be coming back then? If you find them?”

Shen kept his eyes on his hands, but his mouth twisted up into something ugly. “No. No, I
won’t. I’m not letting him have Zuli. I’ll take his offer, and go to Ba Sing Se with Suki, and
help keep him away from my people. Sokka too.”

Hakoda had been sure that would be the case, but it was still a relief to hear. Sad, too. Shen
was angry under the misery. And the anger would grow. This was a betrayal on both sides
and the more time he had to think about it, the worse it would be for him. But he would have
Suki, and that might help. Having responsibility might. Wei was correct about that.

“How are your wounds?” Hakoda asked, changing the subject slightly. “They didn’t go easy
on you, as I understand it.”

Shen shrugged, then winced. “Not as sore as my pride. They will heal.”

But the other, deeper wounds might not. “Tonight, then. If I don’t see you before you go,
please take care of yourself. You’ll need all your wits to deal with the boys.”

“And Suki.” Shen snorted without humour. “Hakoda? Take care of Dumpling?” he asked,
finally looking at him.
“Do I have to?”

“Yes.”

Hakoda grinned, although he was sure it was a little lacklustre. “I will care for her like she is
a member of my own family.”

Shen gave him the ghost of a smile. “Good luck with that.”

……………..

Sokka woke from a dream of warm, enticing skin and hot hands.

His body had clearly been enjoying his dream quite a lot. It was, for a moment, a really good
feeling, safe and warm and pleasantly aroused. Until his mind caught up a little, and he
realised he was hard and pressed up against Zuko’s back. The position was more than slightly
inappropriate. And the resulting rush of embarrassment and guilt flooded him before he could
really take further stock of the situation. It froze him, his arms still wrapped around his
friend’s middle, and his dick pressed up against his backside.

He could feel his heart trying to beat its way out of his chest. They had slept together
countless times, but this had never happened before. Although he had woken up with the
remnants of those kind of dreams, he had always been alone.

The only benefit of firebenders being up with the dawn.

The worst thing was, he knew Zuko was awake. He could feel it in his breathing and rapid
heartbeat.

For a moment Sokka felt so angry at his body for betraying him like this, even though
minutes before he had been pleased with the quiet feeling of arousal. He shuddered, unable to
decide what to do. What was worse was his body didn’t seem inclined to stop its rebellion,
too pleased with its position of being pressed against a sleep warm body.

“Sokka?” Zuko’s voice was more raspy than usual.

Should he ignore it? Or talk about it? Apologise and beg for forgiveness? Or maybe his
preferred option of stabbing himself to death?

Zuko twisted round to face him, which was in fact the complete worst thing he could have
done. Sokka’s arms were still holding his friend loosely, and now they were more or less nose
to nose, breathing each other’s air. He had a horrible feeling Zuko was not planning to ignore
this.

Sokka stared at him. Still frozen in indecision and shame. Zuko’s face still looked soft with
sleep.
“It’s fine, Sokka,” Zuko said, yawning widely. “It happens. You can just go outside and sort it
out.” He paused, lips pressing together and brow furrowing. “Unless that’s not something you
do in your culture?” he continued, after a moment that Sokka felt stretched for days, full of
anxious agony.

Sokka breathed. His panic receded. Zuko wasn’t angry or apparently that embarrassed. Just
vaguely concerned. Somehow Sokka’s body was still not fully letting go of its new found
excitement. Even through the incredible anxiety there was still the thrum of faint arousal,
even though the physical manifestation of it had… wilted slightly.

“What culture doesn’t allow jacking off?” he asked, his own voice a little hoarse. Spirits, how
was his day starting like this?

Zuko got a look on his face and Sokka poked him in the chest, incredulous. “Are you
serious? What objection can the stupid Fire Nation have to that? Why?”

Zuko shifted a little.“It’s not… an objection exactly. But when my body started to change, my
teachers told me it would be a distraction from my studies, that it diminishes your inner fire.
To give into it was weak, which was shameful.”

“That’s stupid,” Sokka said flatly. “You know that, right?” If he hadn’t scratched that itch
when he had it growing up, he would have driven himself out of his mind thinking about it all
day.

Zuko sighed, the force of it ruffling Sokka’s loose hair where it fell into his face. “That’s
what my uncle said. When he spoke to me about it.” He flushed. “Worst conversation ever.”

Sokka chuckled. “Did he sit you down and give you the talk?” Gran Gran had been the one to
have that conversation with Sokka. He had thought that was the worst thing ever, too.

Zuko huffed. “Not so much sitting down. He followed me around as I tried to escape.”

That was a hilarious image. Sokka bet Zuko had been bright red for days, with the best of his
frowny faces in permanent residence.

“Why did he decide you should ignore your teacher’s advice? Not that I’m objecting. It
seems painfully dumb, not to mention pointless. Did you just hit an age, and he decided to
speak to you?” To try to undo some of the damage, hopefully.

“No. He, um...” Zuko went bright red and rolled his eyes up, like he couldn’t believe what he
was about to say. “I started having, you know, dreams.” He kept his voice low, making it
husky. His face had gone a lovely cerise colour. “And he told me it might be better if I just
gave into my urges to… deal with it. I think he thought it might make me less cranky.”

“Did it?”

“No.”

Sokka tried to hold back the laughter, but he couldn’t keep the grin off his face. “How did he
find out about the dreams?” Sokka asked. Perhaps his feelings of shame and fear this
morning had been worth it. This was wonderful.

“I, um, set fire to my sheets a few times. To hide the evidence.”

Sokka gave up and started laughing, pushing his face into Zuko’s shoulder. “I bet that
happens a lot among teenaged firebenders,” he said, to take a little of the sting out of his
amusement.

“I guess.” Right, he hadn’t known any other kids his own age at that time.

“So he said you should just jerk off and move on with your day?”

“Yeah.” The embarrassment had turned into a pout.

“Are you saying when you have this ‘problem’ now, you just go outside and, you know, deal
with it?”

“Yeah.”

Sokka took that in quietly. It skewed things for him slightly. He had thought that, what with
everything, Zuko would be like him, would have lost those urges completely. But apparently
not. He felt maybe that was a good sign. That he was able to still feel sexual things positively,
despite what happened to him. Of course, he didn’t have any detail of what, if anything, he
thought about when he took himself outside.

Zuko didn’t look particularly happy about their discussion, but that might just have been
having to talk about it, which Sokka could well understand. But then, now they were on equal
ground and his own embarrassment had faded, Sokka's own feelings about talking about it
had changed a little.

It was a strange and kind of exciting feeling, to know that Zuko had also been waking
sexually aroused and had just gone and jerked off before coming back to bed. The image of
that was… intriguing, and he wasn’t sure if he should dwell on it. But it wasn’t the act itself
that was so interesting to him, it was the shared experience.

He shuffled a bit closer, and Zuko curled around him slightly, tangling their legs. The
position, the situation, it was all very intimate. But comfortable. Sokka had never had the
chance to speak about these things to a peer before. To enjoy thoughts about sex and girls
with someone his own age. Or to discuss any of the issues associated with it, like wet dreams
or inappropriate erections—which had been a real concern for him, before. He had suffered
through puberty alone. Was still suffering!

But he, at least, had a good foundation to understand the basics. His people kept animals,
watched the herds in the spring and summer, and the seals through the long winter. He had
known all about sex and how it worked on the most basic level since he was old enough to
ask about seal pups. Gran Gran had provided him with more pertinent information regarding
his own body, and some advice regarding women. Although where she thought he would find
one, he wasn’t sure, as the girls in the village had all been much older or much younger than
he was.
Having this discussion with Zuko had turned from humiliating into something good,
comforting and strangely thrilling. It felt like a rite of passage. Yeah, that was it, adolescent
bonding.

It felt normal. Or at least his version of what he thought normal should be.

“What do you think about?” he asked before he lost his nerve. “When you ‘go deal’ with it?”

Zuko flushed a little more, but didn’t appear overly upset by the question, which seemed like
a positive sign. He was thinking about the answer carefully, if you went by the crease in his
brow. He inclined his head forward on the pillow, like he was about to share a secret. His
breath was warm on Sokka’s face when he spoke. “Mostly, I think about sex,” he said in a
hushed voice.

Sokka stared at him for a moment, a grin tugging his mouth again, he could feel the laugh
trying to work its way out.

“Really? Sex?”

Zuko frowned, obviously aware he was being mocked. “Yes, what do you think about?”

“Well, sex. Obviously.”

Zuko had confused frowny face on, but it was teetering towards offended frowny face. “So,
what’s your issue?”

“I meant specificity.”

“Oh.” Now he looked a little concerned. “Well, I know what you think about.”

“No you don’t.”

“I do.” Zuko pushed himself up, ready to argue.

“Yeah? What?”

“Girls.”

Sokka grinned. “Okay, fair enough. That’s mostly true. But isn’t that also what you think
about?”

A slightly hunted look came over his face. Sokka didn’t like it at all. Perhaps there were
things from his experiences that still leaked into his thoughts. He’d had a moment of hope
that his friend was… not over it, Sokka didn’t think either of them would ever get over it, but
perhaps that he had found a way to still experience something good in spite of the horrors
hanging over them. But maybe that wasn’t actually true and Sokka was accidentally pushing
for another uncomfortable confession, like when Zuko had shared those details of his night in
Zhao’s cabin. Sokka would rather do the drowning again than have that conversation a
second time. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter,” he said. “I was just being difficult. Of course I
think about girls.”
The last girl he had thought about like that had been Yue. After that had been the boat. And
now… he swallowed, trying to force down a wave of sadness.

Zuko must have seen it on his face. He could be perceptive, sometimes. “Do you miss her?
Princess Yue?” he asked.

Missing her wasn’t quite right. He missed what could have been, what they might have had.
And he was so sad and angry about what she should have had. A chance to live, to have
happiness, and sadness and everything else one got from life. Instead, she was just… gone.

“Yeah,” he said, unable to really express what he felt.

“Do you want me to leave? It’s time we got the others up, anyway.”

“No, it’s fine.” His body was back under control, leaving him feeling strangely bereft. “It
would be good to practise this morning. Swords, I mean.”

“I know what you mean.”

“Good to have a wash, too. From the map, it looks like we’ll need to leave the river
tomorrow, head onto the flatlands. It’s the quickest route. We can meet back up with it in a
day or so, when it curves back around.” Sokka was anxious about leaving the water. The river
had been a constant in their descent from the mountains, and Sokka felt they would miss the
security it offered with two waterbenders on the team. But to follow it would lose them days
they couldn’t afford.

Sokka busied himself around the camp for the hour before dawn, cooking, packing. Thinking
about sex again. He felt like the floodgates had opened and his brain wouldn’t shut up about
it.

He watched Zuko as he packed up their tent, tended the fire. It was so weird to think of their
conversation earlier. Even though it hadn’t ended on the most uplifting note, he could feel
himself burning with a feeling like curiosity. What did he think of? Suki? They hadn’t spoken
about his crush, he’d given Zuko the space he seemed to want. But now, with the news about
Yue, would Zuko feel threatened in his interest? Sokka wouldn’t get in their way, although he
could admit there was still a feeling of jealousy in him.

The others woke and stumbled around the camp, preparing breakfast and sorting laundry. It
would be their last chance to wash at the river, so it was agreed they would start their hike a
little later than normal.

Sokka brought out the map while Katara headed to the water. He and Aang crouched over the
parchment, and Sokka pointed at the route he thought they should take. “I think if we head
this way, we can at least keep going in a straightish line until the river curves.” There were
some foothills first and then they would meet the water where the river sliced through a
valley. “From there, it should be quick to the city.”

“Can I see?” Toph asked.

“Sure,” Sokka moved aside to let her get closer to the roll of parchment. Aang snickered as
Toph grinned at him.

Right.

“Not funny,” he told her.

“I thought it was.”

“Well, you have a terrible sense of humour, Toph Horrid Beifong,” he said. “Zuko?” There
was no answer and Sokka twisted around to look. Zuko was gone.

“He went down to the water with his big swords,” Toph said. “He was getting antsy.”

The sun was up, lighting the grasslands below them. Sokka was feeling antsy too. They
needed to get going. He realised it was freakishly quiet—no Katara, and no Zuko. They had
both headed to the water, and there was no yelling.

“I’m going to go check on them. Pack up the rest of the stuff.”

“I’m packed,” Toph told him, stretching out her legs.

“Whatever, just be ready to go. I’ll collect the problem children.”

Aang snickered again, clearly amused by not being included in that description.

Sokka went down to the bank from the side. If they were having a nice bonding chat and not
trying to drown each other, then he would leave them to it for a while. It was worth an extra
half an hour. The bank was full of weeds with long stems and brown tips. They twitched and
swayed in the light breeze as he pushed through and saw Katara.

She was sitting in the dirt, clearly hiding. She looked upset and angry and she had her tunic
on inside out.

“Are you okay?” he asked, crouching beside her, fear zipping up his spine in a rush. She was
looking at him full of hurt and distress. “What’s going on?” He was trying to keep his voice
calm, but it had gone a little high.

She pointed through the weeds, and Sokka leaned forward to part them.

Zuko was practising with his swords, twisting and twirling in a way that was breathtaking.
He looked amazing as always, unfairly so, and it took a moment of staring to realise he was
shirtless. Scars obvious and vivid in the morning light.

He turned back to Katara. “Why are you spying on him?” He could feel panic rising, different
from the feel of the previous surge of emotion.

“I wasn’t!” she hissed angrily, keeping her voice low. “I was bathing, without clothes! And he
came down towards the water, so I hid.” Well, that explained the hasty dressing. “And then I
wanted to see what he was doing.” She was almost panting, she was so upset. “Who did that
to him?”

How much had she seen from his scars? Sokka looked back, watching as his friend moved
with his swords in the bright sunlight, gleaming with sweat. His face was set in
concentration, but also with a strange, peaceful calm. He never had that expression when
firebending, only with his swords.

The bite mark was indistinct, you had to be close to see what it was. The burns on his hips
were obvious to Sokka, but might not be to someone who didn’t know what he knew. It might
just look like torture. And given the lash marks and the burned wrists, that was an easy
conclusion to come to.

“Who burned him? Who whipped him?” Katara said. “Zhao?” He realised she was angry on
Zuko’s behalf, not at him. So furious for someone she still claimed to dislike.

Sokka pulled her in for a hug, because he loved her so damn much. She looked so upset, and
under that, afraid.

“Why won’t you bathe with us? How bad is it, Sokka?” she asked against his shoulder.

“It’s bad,” he muttered into her hair.

“He’s a prince. How can they just do that?”

“A dead prince. They could do whatever they wanted,” Sokka said bleakly.

Katara rubbed tears from her eyes. He thought they were partly anger rather than just sadness
for Zuko. “If they could do that to him, then...” She looked at him with heartbreak in her
eyes.

“They thrashed me, just once,” Sokka said. “The scars are maybe a bit worse than his.” He
shuddered at the memory of the cane. The shock had made the exact events blur, but the
feeling of helplessness, fear and pain was more than enough. “One of the men, the one that’s
following us, he burned me,” he admitted. “Mostly on my arms.” He held up the wrappings
he usually wore. “He did it every day. It’s ugly, but healed. It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

He didn’t mention the drowning. No reason to add something else for her to worry over if he
didn’t have to. One small pain he could save her from.

She took his arm in her hands. “Maybe I could heal them?” She plucked at his wrappings,
and he gently held her fingers away.

“It’s scar tissue. I don’t think that’s fixable.”

“I have this.” She pulled a vial from around her neck. “It’s spirit water, from the North Pole.
Perhaps with this...”

The scars were ugly, the sight of them upsetting. But they were past. “No. We might need that
for something later. Anything could happen that might require some super healing magic
water. This is done. Zuko looked after it. It's unpleasant, but it doesn’t restrict my
movement.”

“I hate them, Sokka. For what they did to you, to us. Even to Zuko. I hate them.”

“I know.” He stroked her hair. He hated them, too. But he didn’t want her to be consumed by
it. It was an easy path to go down, even for someone so compassionate. He still hated, but he
also had a new perspective. There were good people in the Fire Nation, and bad in the Earth
Kingdom. He supposed there were bad in the Water Tribes too. He didn’t count people like
Rakuq, he was difficult, and consumed with his own hate, but he wasn’t cruel or evil.

“One of the soldiers saved us,” he said.

“A Fire Nation soldier?”

“Yeah, a lieutenant, I think. He never really explained why. I think it was because he knew it
was wrong. He didn’t seem to oppose Zuko’s mock execution, but the torture... you could see
it was weighing on him.”

“What happened to him?”

“I don’t know. But Zuko thinks he would have been killed. I can’t see otherwise, to be
honest.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. But my point is, there are good people among them, normal people. Even the guy that
captured our friend Shen. According to Suki, he seemed genuinely concerned about their
wellbeing while they were his prisoners. And he took Shen to protect him from Ro, the bad
guy who would have... well, it would have been a very unpleasant end for him.” He
shuddered at the thought of what Ro would have done.

Sokka wasn’t actually sure what he felt about what he had just said. The Fire Nation captain
had been concerned for them, but he had also stood by and let Ro torture Shen for a while, let
the 54th and the village be massacred. But Katara didn’t need to know those bits.

He stroked her hair again where her head had come to rest on his shoulder.

“It’s not like you to be so…” she trailed off.

“Optimistic? Forgiving?” Sokka snorted. “I’m not, but credit where it’s due, I guess people
are just people. Good and bad.”

“Why are you hugging in the reeds?” Sokka turned at the sound of Zuko’s voice. He was
staring down at them, one hand holding the plants aside. He was still shirtless. “I was going
to wash, but I heard muttering.”

“Sorry,” Katara said. “I was coming down to bathe and, um...”

“And we decided to have a chat about things,” Sokka finished for her. Zuko probably didn’t
need a long explanation.

“Oh, okay. We need to get on the road. There’s no more time to practise this morning,
Sokka,” he said reprovingly.

“Sorry, tomorrow.”

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Zuko snapped at Katara. Her eyes slipped down to
the red, twisted scar tissue on his right hip. He followed her stare and flushed. Then he
looked at Sokka with horror. Sokka felt a rush of protective feelings and had to resist the urge
to cover Katara’s eyes.

But despite the flood of sudden emotion, something about that wasn’t quite right. Zuko had
never bothered to hide his scars, not in the camp, not from Suki. When Sokka had asked,
back with Huang's people, Zuko had said, What are they going to do? Stare at me? and
cocked his head to bring attention to his face.

Zuko was upset because he thought he had revealed Sokka’s secrets, not his own. “Its fine,
Zu. I told her about what Ro did to me. Better out in the open,” he lied.

As always, Zuko accepted what he said at face value, his shoulders slumping in relief.
“Okay.” But then, like the man’s name was an ill omen, he shuddered visibly. “We need to
go.”

“Yeah, head up and get the others moving. I’ll join you in a moment.”

“I’m so sorry, Sokka,” Katara said once he was gone. “Sorry for what happened, and sorry
for... for finding out like this. I wanted to know, but I wanted you to tell me, not take it from
you.”

“I know. It’s okay.” He didn’t feel any relief from her knowing, other than now, perhaps she
would stop prying. He squeezed her tight for a moment. “It’s okay, Katara. I’m glad you
know. I just... I just didn’t want the truth to hurt you.”

“Aren’t you the one who always said it’s never a good idea to hide the truth about the bad
stuff?”

“Yeah, you’re a bad influence on me. Next thing you know, I’ll be giving inspirational
speeches.”

She whacked him lightly on the arm as he helped her up.

He considered mentioning that her tunic was on inside out. But nah.

…………..
 The bunch of kids had left the water finally. Ro lifted his spyglass again. It had been hard
biding his time, but his chances of success went up if the little waterbender was away from
her element. Zuko’s fire was hardly a problem, and his swords were easily dealt with, so long
as Ro had a hostage. His water rat was useless, not an issue. The earthbending girl was going
to be a problem. The boy who may or may not be the Avatar even more so.

He needed to wait until he could separate them. He was low on men, his boredom and
frustration in waiting having had some… consequences for those men who had been
particularly annoying. It wasn’t his fault they didn’t have the stomach or the stamina for his
displeasure. If he ever caught up with the deserters, he would make them wish he had just
taken the time to play with them like the others he had punished.

So using what he had, he would sacrifice the majority of his men to the Earth girl and the
Avatar boy, and try to take them down with the herb smoke. Not easy, but doable. He didn’t
have much of that left either, so he would only have the one shot.

Then he would act against the others. Zuko would have to die quickly. But he would take
back the rat and take the girl for himself. He thought they might be related, but it was hard to
tell, all water savages looked alike to him. But if he gained control of one, the others would
be easy to manage. He just had to disable the girl’s water skin. She was the biggest danger.

“Do we attack now, Captain?” Zhiming asked. He looked anxious, as always. He had taken to
chewing his lip hard enough it was scabbed.

“No. We wait a day until they are far enough away from the water. Then we strike.”

He was looking forward to this reunion. It had been a long time coming.

Chapter End Notes

The very talented absurdditties shared this amazing picture of Katara and Iroh hugging
Here

Also hms-hot-take did an amazing vine compilation of the fic Here

Please go give them some love!

Next chapter, to make up for all the talking, you get all gaang, all the time. (well, there

😂
might be an extra POV, lets see how it goes.) But it comes with a caveat of a full
paragraph of warnings, so take that as you will
 Chapter 30
Chapter Summary

The Fire Nation had an interesting notion of what constituted savagery.

Chapter Notes

Chapter 30. This was the total chapter count I was anticipating when I started. Whoops.
Thank you to everyone still following this behemoth of a fic!

Warnings – Rather a lot of them for this chapter – please proceed with caution. Also
there are some mild spoilers in these warnings.

Violence, sexualised comments about minors, non-consensual creepy touching of

minors, murder, mayhem, ugly references to non-con, discussion about non-con, brief
descriptions of non-con, trauma, accidental nonconsensual eavesdropping? Brief non-
graphic references to child brides (like actual child not older teen - and also references to
teen brides) Behaviour towards prisoners that would break the Geneva Convention (if it
existed) and associated fallout. If I missed some, let me know.

Also cuddling? There is hugging!

Many thanks to my beta burkesl17, who has managed to wrangle my dyslexic nonsense.
All mistakes are my own.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Katara was unsure if she should talk to Zuko about that look she had seen. Now she had
recognised it, she could see it all the time. The way he watched Sokka. The way he put up
with his prattling, with his orders and bossiness, despite Zuko himself being the bossiest
person she had ever met.

Now that she understood some of what was passing between them, she felt a little easier in
herself in some ways. She didn’t think those feelings were returned by Sokka, at least not in a
way that meant they were having a secret relationship of some sort. The sad longing in
Zuko’s eyes told her that more than Sokka’s actions, which were more affectionate and
physically close than with anyone she had seen him with since their childhood. It also seemed
clear that until Sokka had received the devastating news about Yue, he had still been hoping
there would still be something between them, that it might lead somewhere and that he could
have found a future with her.

She knew that she should stay out of it. But the urge to meddle was so strong. That said, she
wasn’t even sure what she wanted to achieve. She wanted Sokka to be happy, and if Zuko
was how he managed that, then she would accept it, encourage it even. But it was a
relationship that would come with such a lot of problems. So many, she couldn’t even work
out where to start. It was a conundrum, and she found herself watching Zuko for more clues,
trying to pick apart the puzzle he presented her with.

He was obviously not unaware of her scrutiny, and it was making him grumpy. Grumpier
than usual.

“I’m going to look for firewood and scout for water,” Zuko said as they set up camp for the
evening.

“I’ll go with you,” Katara said firmly. She wasn’t sure what she would say to him, if
anything, but it seemed like a good idea to see if there was any opportunity to find out a little
more. She knew she couldn’t stop Sokka if something developed between them, but she just
wanted to be certain she had the right of things before she made any decisions about how she
felt about it. At the moment, her strongest feeling on the matter was concern.

“Why?” Zuko scowled at her. “I can do it myself.”

“Are you a waterbender?” she asked sweetly. “If we are looking for water, I’m the best
person. Anyway, we shouldn’t go alone.” Why was he like this all the time? Why did he have
to be so difficult?

Zuko was standing and looming at her, face pulled into an ugly scowl. “The Aang is a
waterbender. He can come,” he snapped.

Sokka snorted.

“The Aang?” Katara said, raising an eyebrow.

He flushed. “Fine, whatever, keep up.” He stormed off, leaving Sokka grinning and Aang
giggling to himself.

“Have fun,” Sokka called after them. “Don’t kill each other, please.”

She took a deep breath and internally cursed her brother. He had shown surprisingly good
taste in girls since leaving home. Suki, Yue. Why couldn’t that extend to good taste in boys?
She stomped after the stupid prince, ex-prince, her mood considerably soured.

Zuko remained so annoying. They had climbed one of the small hills to see if there was any
sign of water, Katara had tried to extend her senses as much as she could but all she could
feel was the threat of rain and the little tingle of life in the grasslands.

There were a lot of shrubby collections of foliage and squat, thorny looking trees clinging to
the landscape. There should be water close by, but so far they had failed to find any. They
headed down the other side of the hill towards a copse of trees and bushes.

“You look for sticks,” Zuko told her, pointing a finger towards the small patch of vegetation

Katara narrowed her eyes at him. How long since they had the talk about giving orders? “No,
you look for sticks, I will look for water. It’s why I’m here, isn’t it?” she replied, snappily.

“Well, your magic water finding powers have not been very useful so far, have they? Maybe
your stick finding abilities will be better.”

“You are so rude,” she told him angrily. “Sokka may not mind, but I do.”

“I’m not rude, it’s something we have to do! I don’t get why you are being stupid over it!”

“Stop yelling at me!”

“I’m not yelling!” Zuko yelled.

She was seriously considering unstopping her water skin and dousing his head. “Yes, you
are!” she shouted back. “You’re always yelling!”

He got that red puffed up look on his face like he was really going to start testing the limits of
his lung power. Her hand went to her flask threateningly. The instant her fingers touched it,
the whole thing went up in flames.

It took her a moment of shock to register what was happening and let out a pained cry as the
flames licked her tunic and hand. They didn’t catch though, and she unhooked the flask,
tossing it away from her into the grass, her fingers raw from the heat.

She watched it, dumbfounded for a moment. The fire burning the old leather was so strong
and hot the water had boiled, forcing the stopper out, the liquid inside turning to steam and
dissipating as she watched.

“Zuko!” That had hurt, and her water skin was ruined beyond saving. She wheeled towards
him, ready to really give him a piece of her mind. His face was white.

“Run, Katara,” he said in a strangled voice.

It took a split second to put things together. He didn’t have great control of his bending when
he was angry, so over enthusiastic burning of things wasn’t out of the question... but that
hadn’t been him.

Then a hand caught her hair and yanked her backwards, almost pulling her over.

“Drop the swords, Zuko,” a man said. He must have come from the trees they had just left,
and they had been too busy fighting to notice. Stupid stupid stupid.
He hoisted her into the air like she was a sack of rice and pulled her back against an armoured
chest. One hand was pressed to her middle, the other was holding what she assumed was a
knife against her throat. The threat of cold steel notwithstanding, she wiggled and kicked her
legs ineffectively at the person holding her.

“Drop them, unless you want this girl to die.” The knife pushed against her skin.

Zuko’s eyes were a little glassy, and his chest was heaving, but he hesitated. The swords in
his hands were reflecting the last of the sunlight as the red gold of evening set in.

The man lifted her a little higher, pushing his face into her neck briefly. She struggled again,
horrified by the feel of it. Her heart felt like it was going to beat right out her chest with panic
and disgust. His other hand pushed against her stomach, holding in a way that was disturbing
and possessive. Still Zuko hesitated.

It was a long time since she had felt helpless like this. Without any water to bend, she was
just… a kid, too small to overpower a full grown man, lacking in hand to hand combat skills.

In the distance, she could hear the sound of fighting. They had attacked the camp, too.
Whether that meant rescue would be coming, or something worse, she wasn’t sure.

Zuko dropped his swords.

“Good boy,” the man said, and Zuko shuddered so hard it looked like he might topple over.
“I’m going to keep this one.” He pulled her impossibly closer to his body, and she resumed
struggling. Even the threat of her throat being slit wasn’t enough to stop her. The memory of
her conversation with Zuko about the man tracking them was suddenly very clear in her
mind.

“You won’t,” Zuko said. “I promise not to fight. Just let her go.”

“No. And not just because you didn’t ask nicely. I will promise not to kill her, but I certainly
won’t free her. I deserve a little compensation for all my troubles.” He pushed his face into
her hair again. “I need to take back my other water rat, and this one should do the trick, I
think. Anyway, I quite like the idea of a matching pair. Get on your knees, hands on your
head.”

“Why? If you won’t let her go?”

“I don’t need her looking this fresh and pretty. She could stand to lose an eye, or a hand.” The
knife at her throat began to heat, burning into her skin, and she screamed in shock and fear.

Zuko caught her eyes, desperate and guilty and terribly, terribly afraid. It wasn’t right
someone should make him feel like that, should make her feel like this, helpless and
frightened.

But there was also defiance in Zuko’s gaze too. Anger. Zuko never gave up. And nor did she.
She ignored the horrible feel of the man’s hand on her, the sensation of his breath on the skin
of her neck, the smarting, searing burn on her throat.
She was more than just bending, all benders were. You had to be clever to fight, use what you
had. She had flat out tried to punch master Pakku in her rage, she had taken on a master while
only self taught. She had fought smart that day, as well as with power, even if she had
ultimately lost, she had still won. There had to be a way.

There was water, there was water everywhere, she just had to find it.

She ignored Zuko raising his hands to his head, and reached out, sensing the way Uncle had
taught her. She could feel the man behind her, bright and burning with power, and the
dizzying storm that was Zuko. Reached further, deeper.

The grass was full of life, of water. She felt for it, gripped it and gave a little pull. There was
a feeling of resistance, but that meant she had something, there was something to take. She
breathed, then wrenched it with everything in her, pulling the life from the plants, leaving
nothing but brown husks. It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough. She hurled it behind her, freezing
the drops as she felt them hit.

It trapped his arm and splattered up his face as she wiggled free, already grasping and pulling
again, freeing up more water to weaponise. Zuko was just as quick, snatching his swords and
grabbing at her.

“Run, Katara,” he panted as they made for the cover of the trees.

The small outcrop of foliage provided no safety, the spindly branches caught with flame as
they crouched below the gentle slope of earth.

“We just have to keep ahead of him,” Katara said. Her voice sounded high and thin to her
own ears, her fear was bone deep.

“We have to run,” Zuko grabbed her arm with his hot hand. It felt strangely reassuring,

“Once the others fight off their attackers, they will help,” Katara said, rising to her feet and
moving after him. He was fast, but her panic lent her speed.

Zuko spun and broke a fire blast that had been heading for their backs. “He has a smoke that
prevents bending from working properly,” he told her.

Katara saw the man cresting the next rise and sent her water flying towards him like spikes of
ice. There just wasn’t enough of it to be more than an irritant to him. “You mention this
now!”

“Stop yelling at me!” Zuko batted away another fireball and Katara watched the man turn her
ice to steam. This was a losing battle. They were both aggressive fighters, fleeing was putting
them at a disadvantage. She was honestly shocked Zuko was running at all. She thought he
was just as afraid as she was, more maybe. But this was just one man. He was strong, but so
were they, and there were two of them. His greatest weapon right now was their fear.

“We can’t run,” Katara said as they watched the man approach, calm and steady, so confident
he could just chase them down like a pair of wounded arctic hare. There was a smile on his
face.

He was strong, she could feel that pulsing in his chi, but by that measurement, Zuko should
be stronger. Uncle had said she was on a level with his nephew, although she couldn’t see her
own chi in the same way. They could beat him, if they weren’t so afraid, if they thought
instead of reacted.

“Separate and get him from both sides?” she suggested.

Zuko stared at her for a moment, and his own eyes seemed to sharpen with focus. “No.
Defence and attack, from the same side. I might be able to slip in with my swords if we get
close enough.”

“You’ll have to defend until the last moment. I don’t have enough water to form a proper
barrier.”

He nodded. “Just keep flinging ice at him. It won’t kill him, but hopefully he’ll see us as
desperate, and allow me to get close enough to attack him.”

She nodded, forcing down the terror and focusing on the fight. Sometimes, the polar tern
would lead a predator from its nest by feigning injury or weakness. This wasn’t so different,
except they would draw him in, not away.

The soldier had fire in both hands. He looked like he was enjoying himself. The thought
made her angry, and she stood and sent her first volley of ice spikes towards him, splitting
them into tiny stinging darts. He melted them almost casually and responded with a whip thin
blast that singed the air as it approached. Zuko stepped in front of her and deflected it while
she responded with another shower of spikes.

They moved together in a slowly tightening circle around him, letting him think he was the
one gaining ground. She allowed her strikes to become smaller, less fierce, while Zuko’s
movements became sloppier, more desperate. He drew his swords and used them to slice
through the blasts, his movements choppy and a little wild.

The soldier looked a little less smug, though, like he could sense something was up. They had
to act quickly.

“Come now, Zuko. I’ll make you a deal. Give up, and I will kill you quick. Keep fighting and
I will keep you for a day. You won’t enjoy that, I promise.” The soldier smiled at Katara in a
way that made her hair stand on end.

Zuko followed his line of sight and snarled, stepping in front of her again. “I will kill her
first, Ro.”

Ro looked at them, eyes narrow, perhaps assessing the truth of that. Katara wasn’t sure either.

“You won’t. You don’t have the balls. I tire of this,” Ro said. He started moving his arms,
powering up for a devastating blast. Zuko adjusted his stance to take the blow, his swords
gleaming in the orange light. Katara pulled water from the grass, pulled, and pulled. It wasn’t
enough for a water wall, but it could perhaps throw him off a little.

Suddenly, Ro let out a startled cry, his fire disappearing harmlessly as he fell to his knees.
The earth had slithered like creepers up around his calves and jerked him downwards. His
arms were wrenched backwards, encased to the elbow.

“Oh, thank all the spirits above and below,” Katara muttered. Took them long enough.

Rage creased the man’s face, turning it ugly. Then, from one moment to the next, he calmed,
looking merely a bit put out. “How did you avoid the smoke?” he asked.

“Airbender,” Toph jerked a thumb at Aang, who had joined them with a spring in his step. He
didn’t get the fear and the heaviness. This was just another attack to him, one they had easily
overcome. It wasn’t to Sokka and Zuko, though. Nor her, either. She could still feel his hand
holding her middle, his breath on her neck.

Ro raised an eyebrow, still acting like this was a normal conversation. “Oh, so you really are
the Avatar?”

“Yup!” Aang grinned at him. But his smile faulted a moment when Sokka shoved past him
and ran for Katara, catching her and squeezing her so tight it hurt. She shuddered in his arms,
as all the terror that had been pushed aside in the fight came flooding back. Sokka was
shaking; with anger, fear, adrenaline, all of them perhaps, she wasn’t sure.

“Nice to see you again, little rat,” Ro said, still ignoring the fact he was trapped kneeling in
the dirt.

“Lieutenant Ro,” Sokka said. Pushing her away from him a little so he could turn to look at
the man, his eyes sliding down his trapped body.

“It’s captain now.” Ro shifted a little, testing the limits of movement, perhaps attempting to
bend his way free.

“Nope,” Toph said, and he sank further into the earth, his bent legs now beneath the ground.
He wasn’t going to be able to get out of that with bending, not unless he burned himself as
well. The thought of feeling so trapped was horrifying, but he didn’t seem bothered, just
mildly annoyed. He looked almost indulgent, like he was playing a game.

“This is an interesting situation. What exactly are you planning to do?” he asked.

“That shouldn’t be hard to figure out,” Sokka said, and there was something really ugly in his
voice. This was the man who had tortured him, now captured and at their mercy. Katara
didn’t know how to feel about whatever might happen next. Zuko didn’t seem sure either, he
was watching carefully, eyes flickering between her brother and the man in the dirt.

“Found your teeth at last? It would make a change from screaming and crying.” Ro sighed. “I
did enjoy the begging.”
Sokka snarled and stepped forward, but Zuko stopped him, moving himself bodily between
them.

Ro watched with apparent interest. “I’ve followed you for months and I still don’t really
understand what’s going on between the two of you,” he said in the same conversational tone.
“I mean, I did wonder if it was the obvious, but who would voluntarily wake up to that face
every morning?” He nodded towards Zuko with a cruel smirk. “Of course, you could always
take him face down, I suppose. Worked for me. But why stick with it? Plenty of other
options.”

Katara took a moment to process what he was implying, still feeling indignant rage for the
jab at Zuko’s disfigurement. Then a new kind of horrified understanding began to work its
way up her spine like a shiver.

“Shut up!” Sokka shouted, his voice even angrier than when he had lost his temper after
finding out about Yue. Mixed into it was an awful thread of pain she had never heard from
him before.

Ro smiled, enjoying the distress he was causing. “Of course, even then, he was a pretty bad
fuck.” He attempted a shrug, hampered by the rock encasing his arms. “Unless you like them
limp and crying. Maybe you do?”

Sokka charged him, trying to get around Zuko, who raised his right sword and caught
Sokka’s blade with a jarring clash and screech of metal. There was a moment where her
brother strained against him, wild and desperate with no thought or skill.

Zuko extended his left arm backward, barely looking at what he was doing, and rested the tip
of his other sword against Ro’s throat, twisting the point so it dug into skin. A small trickle of
bright red blood began to flow, slow and thick. Katara watched it. Time felt strange and
viscous and she couldn’t get her feelings in order, they were buzzing and swarming like bees.

She knew what they were talking about. It was obvious what the man had done. It was
shocking, appalling. This was something she had been aware of since childhood, what could
happen to women and children on the raids. It was something that was talked about, an effort
to help people survive, should the soldiers come again. An ugly, awful truth. It had never
really occurred to her that the same could happen to boys and men, but she supposed it must,
now that she thought about it.

“Shut up,” Zuko said. Breaking through her spiralling thoughts. His voice was hoarse, but
cold, and his face was almost freakishly still. She had never seen him like this; controlled,
calm in his fear and rage. It was far more frightening than his usual displays of anger and
explosive temper.

The tension, the pain in the air between them was so thick, Katara breathed in gasps. It felt
like her lungs were being sucked inwards.

“Or what, Zuko?” Ro asked. The movement of this throat forcing the sword to dig deeper.
“No need to get upset. It looks like the little rat likes sloppy seconds. Or thirds really. More
now, perhaps. Even if you are a bad lay, you sure get about. Maybe it’s something in your
blood.” He smiled, all teeth and malice.

Sokka tried to get to him with his sword again, but Zuko shifted and held him back, easily
countering his wild movements. “Stop, Sokka,” he said. Then he turned his head to watch the
man on the ground, and that slow trickle of red now soaking into his ugly uniform, turning
the rich colour darker, almost brown. “The thing is, Ro,” Zuko said in the same, calm, tight
voice. “I may be a poor lay, but I’m going to watch the sun rise tomorrow, and you are not.”

Aang made a small noise next to her, and Katara reached out a hand to his arm to quiet him.
There was no negotiating here, no mercy deserved. If they wanted this man dead, he should
die.

She hoped with all the anger and sadness and hurt that was welling up in her, that justice was
done, however they needed it.

Ro laughed. “You don’t have the stomach for it, you’re weak. You’ve always been weak.
Killing a bound man without a fight? You won’t do it.” He shook his head, still smiling. “You
want to kill me? You need to challenge me. An Angi Kai.”

Zuko looked at him for a long moment.

The only sound was Sokka’s harsh panting breath. He was trembling, struggling for control.
The sword he still had raised against Zuko’s was shaking.

Zuko’s own blade was still and steady.

“Katara,” Zuko said. “Take Aang and Toph back to camp.”

She nodded, unable to speak.

“An Agni Kai, Zuko,” Ro said. “Otherwise, where’s the honour in this?”

“No,” Zuko said, his lip twisting up in contempt. “You have no honour to defend. Katara?”

She understood. He was stopping Sokka because he didn’t want her to watch her brother kill,
and didn’t want Aang or Toph to witness what the two of them were about to do. She took
hold of Aang’s arm.

“Katara,” Aang said. He was so tense she could feel him practically vibrating under her hand.

“No, Aang. This is their fight. Their business. We go back to the camp and wait.”

“I...” His eyes were wide and pained.

Toph reached out for his other hand.“This is not for you to decide,” she said. “Not for you to
argue. We’ll go back and check on our prisoners.”

He went with them without complaint, subdued and miserable. Katara wasn’t actually sure
how much either of them had understood—it seemed pretty obvious to her, but this was
something she knew about, had seen the result of through generations of raids. How much
could you grasp if you had no frame of reference? The implications were clear enough, but to
really understand… she wasn’t certain, and she didn’t want to ask.

There were prisoners, bound in earth, but it seemed four of them were gone. Firebenders, she
assumed. They hadn’t attempted to free their non-bender companions, or perhaps they had,
but hadn't been able to do so without burning them. From their tracks, they hadn’t tried to
join up with their captain again, either. They had just run. The remaining three were fearful,
frightened to see them return.

Good. These men didn’t deserve mercy, either. Although she would probably end up giving it
to them, however angry she was now.

Toph checked on them, made sure they were secure. Aang sat and stared at their campfire,
currently cold and dark. Katara set about lighting it the old-fashioned way with her spark
rocks. It took a couple of tries, her hands were shaking so much.

“Do you think they will…?” Aang trailed off.

“Yes,” Katara said bluntly. “They will. That’s their choice, their justice. But you shouldn’t
feel any guilt. That man’s death isn’t on you.”

Aang looked troubled. “I know. But I wish it wasn’t on them, either. They shouldn’t have to
do that.”

She nodded as the tinder caught and she gently coaxed it into life. “They shouldn’t. But it’s a
choice you have to let others make for themselves. Arguing for leniency in this instance
wouldn’t be the right thing to do.”

“I know,” he said, voice soft and with the grief of thousands behind it. He did understand,
clearly, as he had not stayed to try to persuade them. “But the men here…” he said, avoiding
looking at them, and instead fixing his gaze on Katara’s fire.

One of the soldiers made a distressed noise, clearly thinking they were discussing his
impending death.

“Shut up,” Katara told him. “You deserve whatever you get.”

“Is...” the man asked, voice quivering. “Is the captain dead?”

“He will be,” she said coolly.

Aang looked wretched, and she half wished she hadn’t said it. But he needed to understand
sometimes saving people meant letting them make their own choices. Well, perhaps that was
unfair, he did understand, he just had to accept it when the people making those choices were
people he loved.

Their captive looked… relieved. They all did. He nodded and closed his eyes. They were
afraid of him, of Ro. More than they were afraid of their current situation.
Katara took more water from the grass, leaving it brown and dead. It felt... bad to do such a
thing, which was silly, as they used plants as they needed them, the same as they killed
animals they needed to utilise or eat. But there was something strangely violent in this action
that disquieted her.

It didn’t stop her filling up one of their spare skins, though, and strapping it to her belt.

“That’s new,” Toph said. “Never seen you do that before.”

“I needed water. I panicked,” she answered. “There’s water in the plants. In everything,
really.”

“Water in people, too,” Toph said speculatively. Katara shuddered, and one of the prisoners
moaned in fear.

Aang looked unhappy. “All bending can kill,” he said. “Fire is just the obvious way.”

“Also squishing people with rocks,” Toph added.

“Yeah,” Aang said, with a tiny smile that didn’t quite manage to bring his expression out of
misery. “And that.”

A couple of their prisoners seemed to be praying. “Stop it,” Katara told them. “I’m not like
you. I’m not going to use my element to kill just because I can. And I’m not going to suck the
water out of you, even though it would probably do the world better nourishing the grass than
being in your body.”

The men fell silent. She didn’t think they believed her. Of course, her people were just
primitive savages to them. Never mind what they had done. Done to her brother, to Zuko, one
of their own. The Fire Nation had an interesting notion of what constituted savagery.

They sat and watched the fire. Katara couldn’t let herself think about what she had learned,
what Sokka and Zuko might be doing now. She loved and trusted her brother, but his anger
was so strong she was afraid of how his actions might affect him when he had calmed down.

“It’s done,” Toph said, into the quiet. Katara realised she had been monitoring the boys. They
were probably at the very edge of her reach. But the stopping of a heartbeat felt though the
ground was apparently enough to register.

Aang shuddered. Katara wanted to comfort him, but she didn’t. She just methodically
checked their gear was ready in case they needed to leave in a hurry. She felt now she
understood part of Sokka’s recent behaviour, always monitoring things, preparing. It was
helpful to feel in control of those things you could control.

When she was out of things to do, she healed the burn on her neck. She had left it smarting
and throbbing, while she worked, a reminder of what had just happened, almost happened.
But burns could turn ugly quickly, so she had to deal with it. Once done, she sat and stared at
the fire. She didn’t want to sort through her feelings. Every moment of quiet meant she could
feel the man’s hands on her. His intent. She felt guilty for thinking about herself, when he had
done what he was threatening her with to Zuko. He was annoying and despite everything, she
was still angry at him, but he hadn’t deserved that. No one did. She wasn’t sure if she liked
him or fully trusted him, but she found she did care about him, about his pain, past and
present. And that made everything so much worse.

The guilt and the horror bubbled and ate at her.

“I’m going to check on them,” she said, when she found she just couldn’t take it anymore.

“Katara…”

“Stay here and watch the prisoners.”

She took her water-skin and headed back in the direction they had come. It wasn’t too far,
hidden behind the gentle swell of the foothills.

The boys were gone, but the corpse was still there. She didn’t know why she needed to see it.
Perhaps to be certain he was dead, perhaps to see what her brother had done, or watched
being done.

There was a feeling of relief, despite the fact it was gory and unpleasant; his throat was slit,
eyes staring back up at the sky. The cut was large and sure. The blood had soaked the grass
and the front of his tunic, but there was no other sign of violence. A simple execution, not a
punishment. She hadn’t realised she had been afraid of that, that they would have tortured
him before killing him. He would have deserved it, but it would have been… it would have
hurt them more in the long run.

Ro had been so certain Zuko wouldn’t be able to kill him while he was bound and trapped,
and there was a part of her that was surprised he had done it, too. He was violent, aggressive,
but strangely, in spite of all he had done to her and her loved ones, she knew he was not a
savage killer.

She looked at the soldier, dead in the dirt, and wondered if she would do the same to the man
who had killed her mother. Would she offer the mercy of a quick death? Even though he
didn’t deserve it? There were some days she wasn’t sure.

She had a sudden, almost overwhelming need to see her brother. To see that he was alive, was
okay, or as okay as he could be in the circumstances. It was like the feel of the first few days
after his return, when every time he was out of her sight there was a part of her that felt like
he was gone again. Dead or disappeared.

She was filled with such a powerful feeling of foreboding and dread it overpowered all other
thoughts. She had to see him.

She found tracks—away from their camp, and she followed, treading quiet and careful as her
father had taught her.

She saw the light from the small fire before she saw them. Hidden behind a small thicket of
trees and shrubs. She moved closer, crouching behind some scratchy dense foliage and
peering through a gap in the tangled branches. She just needed to see him, to be sure, then
she would leave. If he needed time to process, he deserved to have it.

They were sitting side by side, staring into the fire.

“He’s dead,” Sokka said. It had the sound of someone who had been repeating themselves.
“Dead.”

Zuko said nothing, just looked into the flames. His swords still drawn and resting on his
crossed legs.

“Are you okay?” Sokka asked after a long moment. Zuko didn’t look okay. There were tears
on his face, although it was still and strangely blank.

“Zu?”

Zuko blinked a few times, like he was coming out of a trance. He didn’t look at Sokka, and
his voice was a little wobbly, shaky in a way his face wasn’t. “Every time someone finds out,
every time someone knows, it feels like it’s happened again. I can’t explain.” The flames of
their small fire rose and danced, angry and wild. “I can’t bear it.” That last sounded more
devastated than she had ever heard him.

Katara was suddenly very aware that she was doing the thing he was talking about. Violating
his privacy. She was seized with a feeling of panic, afraid if she moved, he would hear. She
raised her hands to her ears to try to block their words, but she could still hear faintly, and the
lack of proper sound made the fear spike through her, sick and twisting. She closed her eyes
instead, trying to think of something else. But she was consumed by the feeling of horror and
sadness and guilt squirming inside her. That was worse.

“I’m sorry,” Sokka said.

“Not your fault, is it?” Zuko heaved a shuddering, awful breath. “I feel torn apart. Like
there’s something just ripped out of me.” He laughed bitterly. Katara opened her eyes. She
could see fresh tears on his cheek, shining in the firelight. He scrubbed the heel of his hand
over his face, trying to wipe them away. “He was right, though. About me.”

“I don’t think that freak has ever been right about anything. The term ‘he’s a wrong’un,’ was
coined specificity for that man and can be applied for any and all possible meanings.”

Zuko didn’t rise to the humour bait, just carried on staring. “He was right about this. I didn’t
fight. I just let him. That’s how pathetic…” He shuddered and took a long, deep breath. “I
had the pin in my hand, and I’ve been telling myself I didn’t stop him because I needed to
hide it, to keep it, or we would never get out. But the truth is...”

“Zuko…”

“No, listen,” Zuko said, his voice quivering with emotion. “I was just so hurt and tired and I
just wanted it to end. He shoved me over the table and I did nothing. Because I was just
done.”
Katara tried not to hear Ro in her memory. Limp and crying. She tried even harder to forget
what she had inferred from his words: Ro wasn’t the first man to hurt him like that.

Sokka looked like he was trying to keep himself together physically, hugging himself around
the middle. He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them to try to catch Zuko’s gaze,
but his friend was still looking into the fire, the reflected light dancing as fiercely as the
flames.

Sokka touched him briefly on the arm and Zuko flinched, then relaxed.“No matter what
happened, you had it right when you said what you did to him, about you seeing the sun rise
tomorrow,” Sokka said. His voice was strained but resolute. “If you had fought, he could
have easily killed you and gotten away with it. Zhao would have been angry, but he would
have let him live. You didn’t fight and you lived. You survived, and that is the most important
thing. If you hadn’t, then I would be just as dead as you.”

Zuko’s chin was quivering, and Katara ached and hurt so much for him it threatened to spill
out and she had to clamp her own jaw shut so hard it burned.

“Not fighting didn’t make you weak,” Sokka said. “You survived. He didn’t. He’s dead. We
killed the son of a bitch.”

“I’m glad, but it doesn’t help. I don’t know how to feel okay.”

“Me either.” Katara could see the truth of that reflected in the tears in her brother’s eyes as
tilted his head and looked up at the stars.

“He took something from you, something you can’t get back,” Sokka said at last. “They both
did. You have to grieve that, it’s okay to grieve that. But it’s not all you are. There is much
more that makes you you, than the things they took and the wounds they left.”

“They took from you too.” Zuko’s eyes were still on the fire. His voice was bleak.

“Yeah. Yeah, they ripped parts of me away I can’t get back,” Sokka said, rubbing a hand over
his mouth, like he could wipe away the taste of that truth.

“I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t do it.”

“My people did,” Zuko said, taking a long breath and letting it out in a huff.

Sokka’s mouth twisted up. “Everything I have lost was taken by your people. Every ruined
part of me can be laid at their feet. But you didn’t do it. You have nothing to atone for, not to
me.”

“I feel like I do.”

“No, you were as helpless as me. And before, you were a child, or not even born yet.”
Katara was hit by another wave of confused emotion. She didn’t think she felt the same way,
but regardless of that, she didn’t want Zuko to suffer for his people’s crimes, not even his
own. She just wanted him to acknowledge them. But now those feelings felt all twisted up
with guilt.

“If you feel shame, then maybe you have a chance to do better,” Sokka said, quietly. “To
build something new, to help the folk your people have hurt.” He breathed out, the sound
loud in the still air, heavy with the threat of rain that still hadn’t fallen. “If you don’t take that
chance, if you leave it to someone else. Then maybe you will have something to answer for.”

Katara felt a rush of love for him, and of understanding of what he was trying to do—the way
he had dealt with the argument with Zuko on that first night suddenly made sense. She
realised what he had wanted him to see and understand.

“Remember what I said before about saving your people?” Sokka continued.

“That I shouldn’t let the war be my people’s only legacy.” Zuko looked at him for the first
time, holding his eyes. “I can’t lead them, I’m not a prince. I will never be Fire Lord.” The
words felt loaded, like acceptance.

“So? Just do what you can. That’s all any of us can do. Help us stop the war. You don’t have
to fight directly against your father, I know that’s got to be complicated for you.”

Zuko’s face screwed up, and he shook his head a little. But Sokka pressed on despite his
obvious discomfort, reaching a hand out, gripping Zuko’s arm. “You can still do something
for people. For yours, and for those like Shen and Suki and me. And for people like the
villagers Ro murdered. And for those like Yuxuan, who might still lose, even if we win.”

“Yuxuan’s dead. The villagers are.”

“They may be dead, but there are plenty more still living that we could save. Even more that
could be saved by Aang, with our help.” He slid his grip down and held Zuko’s wrist gently.
“I have faith in you.”

Zuko moved slightly, twisting his own hand around so his fingers clutched Sokka’s. It looked
desperate, his eyes were squeezed shut and Katara could see his chest heaving with emotion.
“I love you,” he said, voice a tangled mess.

Strangely, although it was obvious to anyone with eyes Zuko had some romantic attachment
to Sokka, she didn’t think that deceleration was really about that. It seemed to encompass far
more. The depth of their friendship, the shared loss, the suffering they had endured.

Sokka had a funny look on his face, like he was going to cry, or perhaps like he had no
control over his feelings for a moment. He freed his hand and tugged Zuko against him with
an arm around his shoulder. “I love you too, buddy.” He grinned, although it looked washed
out and sad. “Don’t tell anyone I said that. It will ruin my cool mysterious image.”

Zuko snorted lightly. He looked unbearably fond even with the tears on his face. “That image
is all in your head. You’re a clumsy, disaster of a person.”
“Says you.”

“I’m not clumsy.”

Sokka grinned again, and this time it looked like it reached his eyes. “But the rest fits?”

“Yeah.”

They sat for a few moments, until Sokka tugged Zuko backwards, so they were lying on their
backs, staring up at the sky. Zuko rolled, so he was tucked into Sokka’s side. They were
quiet, spending a moment together in their grief.

Katara took a few seconds to gain control of her breathing. The tears were rolling down her
face freely, but the gasping sobs that wanted to come out had to be strangled back. She
wanted to tell them she had seen this, and she knew she needed to hide it. She needed to
absolve herself, but in doing so, everything would be so much worse. She felt like a small
child, completely helpless in the storm of her feelings. She hadn’t felt like this since her
mother had died. Even Sokka’s apparent death had been different. Worse, in some ways, but
different to this.

She wanted her mother, the feeling of it was so sudden and shocking, it made her body
tremble. She wanted her father, her brother. She wanted them to hold her, to make this better.

But she wasn’t a child anymore. She couldn’t be, because the world was awful, sometimes.

“I’m going back,” Zuko said, and Katara forced her eyes open to watch again. He had pushed
himself up from their tangle and was looking down at her brother, face now dry of tears, but
still a little puffy.

“To the Fire Nation?”

“No, you moron, to the body. I… I need to give him funeral rights.”

Sokka sat up. “Why? He doesn’t deserve that!”

Zuko let out a huff of breath, face creasing into an expression that was hard to categorise.
“Not for him. You have to give rights, or they might not pass over. I don’t want to be haunted
by that piece of shit.”

“You believe that?” Sokka asked. He didn’t look angry, more morbidly curious.

“Yeah, you don’t?”

“No, sounds like spirit rubbish.”

Zuko’s face took on a more familiar scowl, one he seemed to reserve especially for her
brother. “You are best friends with the Avatar, Sokka. Bridge to the spirit world.”

Sokka shrugged. “That’s different.”

Zuko got to his feet, stretching, still looking annoyed. It was a relief to see, after all the fear
and pain of earlier. Normal. “It really isn’t,” he said.

“Do you want me to come?” Sokka really didn’t look like he wanted to.

“No. It’s a Fire Nation thing, I’ll do it alone.”

She watched him go, disappearing into the dark. Sokka put his head in his hands and just
breathed for a moment. Katara wasn’t sure what the best thing to do was, but the need to
speak to him, to comfort and be comforted, was pulling her. She rose to her feet and
deliberately stepped down hard, making enough noise for his head to whip up in alarm.

“Sokka?” she called.

He quickly wiped his eyes and sat up straighter. She could see him pack away all the
emotion, trying to put on a brave face. But she knew it was there. It always had been, she just
hadn’t really recognised it when they were younger.

She sat beside him for one still, stiff moment, and then threw herself into his arms. He caught
her in a tight, almost strangling hug.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. She could feel him trembling, trying to hold himself together.

“I’m okay,” he said. His voice broke on the word, like a dam, bowing under unimaginable
pressure. “I’m…” It was like he couldn’t stop it, couldn’t hold it back, and he began to cry,
his face pressed into her hair, his tears felt like they were stinging the ghost of the burn on her
neck.

His whole body was shaking. Katara held him tightly, clutching at his shirt where her arms
stretched around his back. She had never seen him cry like this, not even as children,
uncontrollable hiccuping sobs and small stifled cries. It was awful, it sounded just as Zuko
had described, like something was being ripped out of him.

But as horrible as it was, it was also something he needed. This much emotion being held
back couldn’t be good for a person. She let her own tears free too, the pressure in her body
expanding and pushing outwards. It was like the hole her grief had made in her had become a
volcano, just full of lava, spilling out of her.

She didn’t know if that awful man had done the same thing to her brother as he had to Zuko,
and she wasn’t sure it mattered. The horrible hurt in Sokka was so deep she didn’t know how
to deal with it. She couldn’t heal it or make it better. All she could do was hold him and be
there as it erupted.

“Sorry...sorry,” Sokka said, when he could speak. He pushed back from her and wiped at his
face, trying to push it all back down.

“Don’t be,” she said firmly. “There’s no shame in grief.” That was what Iroh had told her,
when she had lost Sokka, and she believed it even more now. No shame in grief, but there
was shame in what she had done tonight. The guilt simmered and bubbled.
“I watched you,” she blurted. “Just now, I was looking for you, and you were speaking to
Zuko, and I heard what you both said... I’m so sorry. I keep taking things from you, both of
you, and I don’t mean to.” That last came out in a wail, and she felt his arms tight around her
again.

“It’s okay. It’s okay.”

“I needed to know you were alright, but I didn’t mean to hurt you more, either of you.” Her
voice sounded all broken and high, wet with tears.

“I know, it’s okay, Katara.” He stroked her hair like he had when they were young. He had
done that a lot since his return, like he was re-familiarising himself with her in some way.
Comforting them both with the simple action. “What a pair we are. Blubbering like babies,”
he said.

“Speak for yourself,” Katara said through tears and snot.

He snorted and pulled her down to the ground, like he had with Zuko, looking up at the sky.
It was the same one as yesterday, just carrying on, no matter their personal grief.

“Don’t tell Zu, not unless he asks. Don’t lie, but don’t offer it up. Knowing will hurt more
than not knowing.”

“Okay.” His hand petting her hair was soothing. It reminded her of childhood, of a time she
had felt whole. She curled into him, breathing in his familiar smell and listening to his
heartbeat, fast and strong.

She was almost dozing when Zuko came back, his footfalls whisper quiet. Sokka still seemed
to hear and react to his approach, though. He shifted under her head a little. “Hey, buddy.
Okay?”

“Yeah.” Zuko’s voice was its usual low rasp. He sounded tired, but calm. “Katara all right?”

“Yeah. Come join us.”

There was a long moment where he seemed to be deliberating. Then Sokka shifted again, as
Zuko lay down beside him. Katara opened her eyes. He was staring at her over the narrow
expanse of Sokka’s chest. They both had their heads pillowed on one of her brother’s
shoulders. It was weird, but nice. Warm.

Katara reached across slowly and gripped his hand where it was resting on Sokka’s stomach.
She gave it a squeeze, not holding tightly. After a moment of apparent confusion, he turned
his own hand over and squeezed back with his calloused, hot palm. He withdrew it after,
tucking it down between his and Sokka’s bodies. But his eyes said there was no slight
intended in the action.

“So, here you are,” Toph’s voice interrupted the pull of sleep. “Unfair to have a cuddle pile
without us.”

“My apologies,” Sokka said. “Next time, we’ll be sure you get a fancy invite.”
“You better. All the best spots look like they’ve been taken.”

Katara felt Aang lie beside her, wrapping an arm around her middle and hugging her tightly.
A small additional weight pushed onto the curve of her hip—Momo settling himself snuggly
between her and Aang. It reminded her of the times when they were still in the North Pole,
and the weight of their mourning felt insurmountable. “Okay?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Aang lied, very obviously. She didn’t call him on it. The after effects from her own
emotional turmoil were too strong. Tomorrow she would try to pick up the pieces, try to
make things better. Right now, all she could do was cling to wakefulness.

“Oh,” Toph said. “Oh, I was wrong. I did get a good spot, after all. No wonder Sokka shares a
bedroll with you, Sparky. You’re so warm.”

Katara opened her eyes again, to see Zuko frowning, as the little earthbender slung an arm
over him. He looked a little uncomfortable, but it seemed to be settling, like he was getting
used to it fast. Katara didn’t know how; she’d been hugged by Toph—for warmth mostly, and
once when she was scared she was going to topple off Appa. She was all hard elbows and
pointy knees.

“Stop touching me with your dirty feet,” Zuko grouched at her.

“Make me.”

“While this is a lovely pile of rainbows,” Sokka said, there was a slight smile in his voice.

“Rainbows?” Zuko grumbled.

“Yes, not real ones. Metaphorical rainbows.”

“Why...”

“While this is a lovely pile of rainbows,” Sokka rode over the grumpy questions. “What
happened to our prisoners?”

“We had prisoners?”

“Yes. Where are they?” He was remarkably patient. She would have been at the thumping
stage with all the interruptions.

“Running into the hills like the Unagi is after them,” Aang said, sounding a little guilty.

“The what?” Zuko muttered.

Sokka made an amused noise, his chest vibrating under Katara’s head. “It’s a big water
serpent.”

“Is this more metaphorical nonsense?”

“No, it’s a real thing. You met it. The big monster that tried to eat you and your ship by
Kyoshi Island.”

“Oh.” Zuko pushed his face into Sokka’s armpit, a fate no one deserved. But it seemed he
would rather suffer that than face the rest of them or think about the prisoners. Which Katara
could understand, given the circumstances.

Sokka sighed. “So you let them go?”

“Yeah,” Aang said. “My choice. Sorry I didn’t want... I just wanted them gone.”

“That might come back to bite us, especially if we’re all sleeping,” Sokka said, but there was
no recrimination in his voice.

“I don’t think so. I think they were happy to be free of... of their captain. I don’t think they
will be back.”

“I’m not sure they will be rejoining the army, either.” Toph yawned. “So, can you all please
be quiet? Over in the hot corner, we’re trying to sleep.”

“Some of us are trying harder than others,” Zuko grumped from somewhere under Sokka’s
arm.

They lapsed into silence. Katara could feel the tug of sleep, too exhausted for consciousness.
Toph was snoring. Aang had also relaxed into slumber and she was close to following him.

“Well,” Sokka said quietly. “That’s two down, one to go.”

“One to go,” Zuko answered, just as soft.

……….....

“I don’t want this,” Mai said. Standing straight and rigid, like she was posing for a portrait.
The light from the window washed out her pale skin and made her look delicate in a way
Azula knew she was not.

Azula crossed her legs with a studied casualness. “Why? You’ll be one of the most powerful
people in the kingdom.”

Mai turned from the window to look at her. Her face was still and wan. “You know as well as
I do that I will be married to the most powerful person in the kingdom. I won’t touch any of
that myself. I will be important among my servants. As long as all I want is clothes, tea and
babies. Fire Lady is power in name only.”

“That’s true.” Azula studied her fingernails, perfectly sharpened. It was true, and it wasn’t.
There was power to be had, if she could learn to wield it. It might not be the world shaping,
earth shaking sort her father had, but it was there. A woman in her situation could pull
strings, change minds and move hearts. As long as she was careful not to get caught.

Azula thought Mai knew that, too. She wasn’t stupid. Azula’s father had kept Ursa on a short
leash. Only allowing her to do what he wanted, her every move was always his. But she had
still managed to run a shockingly good spy network under his nose. Her father had never
known of it. Quite a feat.

“I don’t want it. But I will do my duty.” Despite the calm of her expression, a small edge of
resentment had crept into Mai’s voice.

“As will I, when my own match is announced.”

“Your father has called you to a meeting this afternoon?”

Azula narrowed her eyes, but controlled her instinctive reaction to put her in her place. Uncle
had been right. Again. She needed Mai on her side. She could use her.

“Yes. I suspect he will tell me then,” she said. “I also don’t want this.” She let out a sigh.
“Duty can be a bitter pill to swallow. There is nothing I can do to stop what is happening, not
for you or I. But if there is anything I can do to lessen the burden, I will. For the sake of our
friendship. And from one woman being forced into an unwanted marriage, to another.”

Mai took a long breath. “Thank you, Azula. I had expected your anger.”

“I am angry. But not with you,” she lied. She would help, if she could, for her own reasons.
But if Mai became pregnant, all bets were off. That would change everything.

She stood and checked her uniform in the mirror. Impeccable. “I must go to the audience with
my father.”

“Good luck,” Mai said. Her voice as flat as it ever was. But Azula would take the luck—she
would need it.

She remained calm and cool, the perfect obedient daughter. Gracious, hard, polite. She kept
her anger on a tight leash. There was nothing in her father’s speech that was unexpected. He
had not told her who he was choosing beforehand, although she had guessed correctly. She
had deeply relished the look on Zhao’s face when he realised it wasn’t him. Apparently Ozai
had not informed her suitors either, every move a power play. Even Tsing looked miffed. He
had obviously been hoping for himself rather than his son.

Jianjun had looked stone faced and unenthused. Perhaps he had improved his game face since
they had last met, and realised gloating might end in fiery death. But perhaps not. His brown
eyes were cold as they watched her accept her sentence.

She was forced to stay and take congratulations on her upcoming enslavement. But she was
good at hiding her feelings. Better than Zhao, who looked like he was about to implode.
His rage was focused on Jianjun, though, not her. She suspected that Jianjun’s life was going
to become very interesting. He may have been about to take a step up in the world, but he
was also currently the source of a great deal of jealousy. Never good for long-term health in
the cut-throat political arena.

“Princess Azula.”

She turned to look at her betrothed. He was tall for his age, almost eye level with Zhao. His
hair was a boring dark, mud brown rather than the more regal black. And his eyes were
common too. He did look like his father. She needed to find out if he had male relatives who
might have strayed into his mother’s bed. That would give her the edge if it was true.

“My Lord Jianjun.”

He gave her an insultingly brief bow, barely bending more than his head. She stared at him,
expression blank. Up close, she could see there was anger in his eyes. He didn’t want this
either.

That was insulting, but also interesting, and worth investigating. He bowed again and stalked
away, a slight hunch in his broad shoulders. She could tell married life was going to be full of
scintillating conversations.

She really couldn’t wait to burn this whole place to the ground, with all the simpering,
scheming bastards still in it.

She turned up at Captain Kazuma’s lodgings unannounced. His secretary opened the door,
stared at her for a moment, taking in her nondescript clothes and braided hair, and then fell
flat on her face.

Azula berated herself. She was so undone by today she had foolishly had not factored in the
fact they apparently lived together, sharing an adjoining suite.

“Get up and get inside, you stupid woman,” Azula snapped.

She scrambled. Azula strode in and shut the door, watching the woman resume her previous
position of obedience. This was not ideal, she had not meant for the secretary, Ichika, to be
involved. Although Azula suspected she knew of their last meeting. Kazuma had seemingly
no interest in women, and yet they lived together—their relationship, while not that of lovers,
was certainly more than master and servant. It was possible Azula could use her. But she
would also need to be cautious. Ichika had been in the company of Kazuma for ten years.
Before that, Azula could find very little information on her career, family, or life. It was a
concern, something to be monitored.

“Ichika?” Kazuma stepped out of the bedroom and caught sight of her. He also fell to the
floor. It was nice that at least some people in her life treated her properly.
“Sit up. I can’t speak to you with your face on the ground.”

Ichika sat back on her heels but kept her eyes decently lowered. Kazuma stared at her, his
own eyes still wide with surprise and not inconsiderable anxiety. He did as instructed, though,
and gestured for her to sit in the one chair.

She did, seeking the studied indifference she had maintained with Mai. “Tell me about
Jianjun’s mother,” she said. “We are to be married. I want to know more.” True, she had
asked Iroh for this information, but Kazuma actually knew Jianjun, had lived in the Fort with
him.

“I... what would you like to know, Your Highness?”

“Was she faithful?”

“I don’t know.” His face was completely neutral, too neutral.

“Were there suggestions she was not?”

Kazuma cracked his knuckles. A nervous gesture, perhaps. “There were rumours,” he
admitted slowly. “But that is not unexpected, given her position. Tsing is respected but… not
well liked. A spouse is always a weak point.” He kept his eyes on hers, it felt focused rather
than challenging. “If you are hoping for evidence Jianjun is illegitimate, I’m afraid I can’t
help you.” He shrugged. “The boy does take after his father. Same nose and jaw.”

“Did she have any contact with Tsing’s male relatives?”

“Tsing has two brothers and a sister. None of them have reached his level of influence. The
youngest did spend time at Lao Fort. He is almost twenty years Tsing’s junior. But I never
heard any whisper of an affair.” Kazuma’s eyes narrowed a little. “Although if you are
seeking to imply Jianjun might not be Tsing’s child, this would have been nearly eighteen
years ago. I had not met them at that time. I have only been in Tsing’s service the past few
years.”

Azula tapped her fingers against the arm of the chair. She was good at reading deception.
Kazuma was holding something back. “There were no rumours of her cuckolding her
husband with her brother-in-law, but there were rumours. What were they?”

Kazuma hesitated, just for a moment, but it was a moment too long. “You will tell me,”
Azula said conversationally. “Or I will have your woman sent to the front.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to tell you, Your Highness. But there is no proof. I do not like to act
without it.”

Well, that was a barefaced lie based on many of his past actions and investigations. But she
also knew that he liked to seek out the truth of things. He was very good at it, so why would
he have not tried to discover more regarding whatever this was?

“Tell me,” she demanded.

His eyes flicked towards Ichika for a moment. Then he straightened slightly. “This will not
help you if you are seeking to prove his illegitimacy.”

“I didn’t ask you to prove his parentage. I asked you to tell me about these rumours.” Her
voice dipped to a dangerous tone.

Kazuma swallowed visibly. “His mother became unwell during her pregnancy. Not just in
body. She was heavily judged for not producing an heir despite being young. When she
finally did have her child, she kept him locked away for the first few years of his life. She
was very protective, perhaps overly so. But it also seemed after Jianjun was born, her
relationship with her husband suffered somewhat.”

Azula could imagine Tsing was hardly an attentive husband, and probably cared little for
what his wife might want or need. “How so?”

“He was resentful and jealous of the child, and she was dissatisfied. It was rumoured that
during this time she formed an... attachment to her maid, that was perhaps more than just a
friendship.”

Ah, that explained his reluctance to dig into the rumours, too close to his own secrets. He was
right, this wasn’t useful in regards to parentage, but it might still have some merit. “This is
the maid that committed suicide after her mistress’ untimely death?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think he had them both killed?”

He frowned, considering. “There is the possibility she killed herself over a broken heart. But
I personally think it just as likely Tsing had her murdered, just as he had his wife murdered.
There is no proof, though.”

“This could be useful. Do not hold things back from me,” she warned.

“Yes, Your highness.” His face twitched slightly.

“Speak your mind.” He was very forthright when given permission. It made her want to burn
him alive, but she also found it both entertaining and useful. Bootlickers were pointless.

“You said you were to marry Jianjun?”

“Yes, we are betrothed. Or we will officially be tomorrow, when the sages perform the
ceremony.”

He looked like he was struggling with himself, trying to reign in his impulse to speak freely.
She watched with mild amusement.

“You do not wish for this match?” he asked at last.

“I do not wish for any match.”

“If I may, Your Highness. Fighting Jianjun head on, throwing this in his face, it will make
him far harder to deal with. He is volatile, angry and as stubborn as a mule.”

Like she couldn’t handle that.

Kazuma took a breath. “It would be far more beneficial to you to manage him, rather than to
fight him.”

She smirked. “You are suggesting I manipulate him? To do what?”

“Whatever you need. Learn the way he thinks.”

Ugh, that meant spending time with the bastard.

Kazuma shrugged, a casual gesture considering he was kneeling on the floor. “Whether the
rumours are true or not, he loved his mother deeply. It might be more advantageous to
discover the truth of her death, rather than her faithfulness.”

The idea had some worth, but she would also continue to try to discover if he had been
fathered by someone else. There were never too many weapons one could have in one’s
arsenal. “Any other interesting pearls of wisdom?”

He winced a little. “Being unable to bend has made him hard, closed off and determined. You
can see that from the way he fights. Instead of using his lack of bending as a weak spot to
attack, use his prowess with weapons as a point to flatter.”

She tapped her fingers on the wooden chair again. She wasn’t certain she could do that. The
boy was insufferable.

“Thank you for your insight. More reconnaissance may be the best thing. I have two years to
manage him before I am forced to wed him.”

Kazuma twitched again, just a little.

“I have two years until I am sixteen. It’s the law,” she said. She hated the way she sounded.
Like a petulant child. A frightened, petulant child.

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Tell me, Captain Kazuma. You reacted. I want to know why.”

He took a deep breath and looked at her again. “If your father plans to use this union, either
in an effort to control you or to gain from Tsing, then two years is a long time to wait. A lot
can happen—especially when the bride is… not as enthused as she might be.”

“It’s the law.” She could feel her heartbeat rising, thundering in her chest under her light
armour.

“There is precedent. If he looks for it.”

She gestured for him to continue, dread and anger welling in her gut.

“I found documents relating to the marriage of his Royal Highness Prince Zehong and Lady
Kotori. She was fifteen, he eighteen.”

“Why were you looking into this?” Azula asked, to give herself a moment to gather her
thoughts.

His mouth twisted up in disgust. “Before I was stationed at Lao Fort, I was in the colonies for
some time. There was a man, a minor backwater lord, who had married a thirteen-year-old.
He argued he had her parents’ consent, and so long as she had started her menses, she could
be counted as a woman.”

He looked briefly furious, but covered it quickly with a blank face. “I looked into it. I wanted
to prove him wrong. But I found documents stating that Zehong’s marriage was accepted on
the basis of parental consent and the fact she had begun her menstrual cycle. Although an
argument could be made that he was also only just past his majority, and the lord in question
was thirty years beyond it, I opted to drop the case.”

“Why?” He did not strike her as the sort of man who gave up. She wasn’t quite sure of her
own feelings on the matter, which she found disquieting, but Kazuma’s were very clear.

Kazuma sighed. She could see the frustration on his face. “I did not wish for these documents
to be read out in court. It would open the floodgates of similar distasteful unions. Much better
that the law was still perceived to be as it stood.”

Very sensible. She was beginning to think Kazuma could remain useful to her. He was
mercenary, in his way. But he also appeared to suffer from sentiment, something that afflicted
a large number of her people, it seemed. “It pained you to leave the girl to her fate?”

“It did.” His face relaxed into a brief smirk. “I investigated other avenues and discovered an
irregularity in his tax payments.”

Azula raised her eyebrow and resisted her own smirk. “You had him arrested for tax
evasion?” She couldn’t help but be amused in spite of her rising panic.

“Yes. Very serious tax evasion. The establishment doesn’t like it if you get rich without
sharing your wealth. He is still in prison, and his child bride has full control of his estate. She
pays her due to the throne.”

Very useful, and potentially dangerous, if he strayed from the path she wanted him on. He
would need to be monitored. That aside, her heart was still beating fast. This was going to be
a problem, he was right to be concerned about it. She still had time, although not much. She
had not started her monthly cycles yet. Her servants told her this was not unusual in a girl
who trained the way she did, that her body was under pressure and may take longer than
expected. But she was fourteen, would be fifteen soon. It would not be long until time ran out
if this was what her father was aiming for, and she knew that it was with a horrifying
certainty. She would need to act quickly.
“Have you broken the codes?”

Kazuma bowed his head briefly. “Not yet, Your Highness. But I have begun to crack the
cipher. I am confident I will be able to read the full content of the letters in a matter of days.”

“You have one day. Work hard for me. Or you will regret it.”

Next, she went to tell her uncle the news. As always, he had already heard it.

“Niece. I will not offer you congratulations.”

“Very wise of you, uncle,” she said acridly.

He smiled, neutral and polite, and gestured for her to sit.

It seemed he never left this room and his pile of comfortable cushions. But she was starting to
suspect he didn’t have to. He could still pull the strings he needed, like an old, fat, puppet
master.

“What will you do next?” he asked her as she sat, keeping her back straight and posture
perfect.

“I’m going to conquer Ba Sing Se.”

He nodded and tipped some fresh leaves into his teapot. “I’m sure your father will be
pleased.” His tone was infuriating. Her father would be pleased if she pulled it off, but also
see it as a threat. It would be a bold move, especially if she did it without his consent. If she
failed, she would be giving him an easy route to be rid of her.

But if civil war was in the offing, she needed to be seen as a contender. Ozai had never
commanded troops, Ozai didn’t inspire men to fight, they did so to gain his favour and out of
fear. People had fought for the Dragon of the West out of a belief in his ability, for love, even.

Azula had never put any stock in that before, but she was starting from a point of weakness,
of nothing. She needed whatever she could get, anything that could give her soldiers, loyalty,
any kind of edge.

“Do you have a plan to take the city?” Iroh asked. He was gently heating his pot like it was a
labour of love. As annoying as he was, it was gratifying she did not need to explain her
motives.

“We still have the drill. I will take it, and claim the city. Burn it to the ground if I have to.”

“Hmm.” Iroh said, taking the lid off his teapot and taking a long sniff. The fresh, flowery
smell rising into the room. “You will make a name for yourself. Would you like some
jasmine? It was your favourite.” And Zuko’s. One of the few tastes they shared.
 “Do not treat me like you did my brother. If you have something to say, say it. If you have an
idea, then share it.”

“Sorry, my niece, sometimes I forget. Yes, I have no doubt with this technology you will be
able to take the city.” He handed her a cup, raising his own to take another sniff. “And then
your father will take it from you. He will give it to someone else to manage. Our citizens will
be indifferent and the people of the city will hate you.”

She lifted her cup to her lips. The taste of the tea sent strange sense memories through her. Of
her brother, her mother. “I’m not sure why I should care about that, uncle “

“Your father, grandfather and great grandfather ruled and conquered using fear. They had the
might of the army behind them, years of glory and laws that bent to them. You do not have
these things. And so, I would suggest a different approach, rather than just raising the city to
the ground… or at least, I would suggest doing it differently.”

Azula sighed, annoyed. “I am listening, uncle, but do try to make it snappy. This verbal
wandering you do is very tiresome.”

She saw his lip curve up into a small smile, which was puzzling. He seemed to enjoy it when
she was testy with him. Years of being yelled at by her brother, no doubt.

“If we are forced to fight your father at some point, we are likely to have a smaller army. And
fighting on two fronts is a disaster in the making. If the Earth Kingdom realises we are
divided, they will attack.”

“So?”

“So, gaining as much advantage as possible would be ideal. For example, if we were to
present ourselves as being the better option for the Earth Kingdom.”

“They would hardly fight for us.”

“They might, if it looked like we were fighting for them.” He smiled, sly and amused, almost
hidden by his ungroomed beard.

“I’m listening, uncle.” This time, she meant it.

Chapter End Notes

Please check out the wonderful Amisti’s hilarious animation Here

Also palette_town has shared some wonderful comics based on scenes from the fic –
they are linked below in the Works inspired by this one section – please go and check
them out!

Next chapter: Some cultural issues arise, in which Katara has a great day, Sokka has a
mild aneurysm, and Zuko is confused. Also, Suki runs into an old friend, and Kazuma
has a busy day.
 Chapter 31
Chapter Summary

“Ah, Crap.”

Chapter Notes

Warnings: internalized homophobia, discussion of sex and sexuality, prostitution,

underage drinking (but not in universe), non-sexual nudity, accidental exhibitionism?
Very vague references to non-con and violence. Murder thoughts. Playing fast and loose
with canon/non canon cultural stuff, ignorance.

Many thanks to my beta burkesl17, who has managed to wrangle my dyslexic nonsense.
All mistakes are my own.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Sokka woke thinking about Ro. Again. He experienced a moment of fear, followed by a rush
of relief as he remembered the bastard was dead. The first morning, after, there had been a
feeling of awkward tension in the group while the events of the previous day settled. And
then things had slid into normality. It was kind of jarring that such a huge thing hadn’t been
discussed, but at the same time, Sokka was very glad of it. He felt like something horrible
was still clinging to him like dirt from the road, in a way he hadn’t felt after they had killed
Chen. But he didn’t regret this death any more than he had that one. When he felt the fear
climbing his spine again, he reminded himself of the way the blood had sprayed, the final
look of surprise on Ro’s face, like he really hadn’t expected them to do it, right until the last
second when steel parted skin.

Perhaps not the sort of thing he should be thinking to reassure himself, but fuck it. That man
being dead was a weight off his shoulders, and he felt better for it.

But not fixed. Not healed. It was just the alleviation of the fear of pursuit, of ending up in that
man’s hands again. But the easing of some of that pressure felt like a boil being lanced.
Sokka wished they had killed them all. The prisoners too. It was probably for the best that
Aang and Toph had let them go, it would have only caused problems. But he wanted them
just as dead. Everyone who had been on that boat was guilty in his eyes. Taiju too, but he at
least had paid his debt. No other exceptions.

He tried to calm his heart. It probably wasn’t healthy to wake up with such intense,
fluctuating emotions, but also best to get it out of the way before joining the others. He was
worried about Katara, the impact of what had happened, and of what she knew. She and Zuko
had been freakishly polite to each other the first day. Considerate. Although maybe the
emotional exhaustion meant they just didn’t have the energy to squabble. But then last night
they’d had a fight about the best method to cook a fish. It had become rather loud and
impassioned, and Sokka wasn’t the only one around the fire who had been grinning. Things
had felt right again. They didn’t even have a fish, the whole thing had been about
hypothetical fish. They were still a half a day, at least, away from the river and were living
off dumpling weed and rice.

Also, he was fairly sure the only thing Zuko knew how to cook was the haphazard Jook
recipe Sokka had taught him. Zuko arguing for the sake of it was just so normal. It was a
balm to the soul.

Another normal was Zuko’s solid presence against his back when he woke. He was clearly
already awake, but had his face pushed against Sokka’s nape, nuzzling him like a sleepy cat.
It was warm and comfortable.

So, of course, Zuko had to go and ruin it. Because it wouldn’t be a day of the week without
his friend dumping a little trauma on Sokka’s rare happy moments.

“Sokka?”

“Yeah?”

“What do you think about, when you... you know.”

Right, so this was not a conversation he had expected to continue after the events of the past
few days. Sokka couldn’t fathom thinking about sex right now. He closed his eyes and
wished for the warm comfort back. He didn’t always understand Zuko, but he knew him well
enough to know there was something specific he was working through. Why else would he
bring this up?

“Sex, obviously,” Sokka answered, without turning to face his friend. They still had a hole in
their tent. The threatened rain hadn’t done more than spit at them, but when it came, he was
fairly sure it was going to be a serious downpour.

Zuko made an annoyed grunt. “Yes, but you said that was too vague. You said...”

“I know what I said.” Sokka interrupted. “What do you think about?” he shot back in an
effort to derail the discussion.
Zuko was quiet for a long moment, but it was a quiet full of some sort of tense concentration.
“Before, it was kissing mostly. I mean, there was more. Bodies and touching and stuff. But
kissing.” He was quiet another long while, and Sokka just lay and breathed, letting him work
his way through whatever was going on in his weird brain. “I... I think it was because I never
thought anyone would want that with me.”

Oh. Ro had said a lot of things, other than those things. Zhao had too, in the conversation
Zuko had so painfully described to him. The scar and how he must feel about it were an easy
target. Sokka had gone for it too, back on the first days on the boat.

“But I thought about it,” Zuko said. “So I could have it.”

Sokka’s heart ached. He wanted to tell him he wasn’t ruined by the injury, any more than he
was the other stuff, that he was handsome, and anyone who was worth his time would think
so, but Sokka felt that was a discussion for a different day. This was about something else.
Zuko was working up to whatever it was.

“I did too,” Sokka said, a little cautiously. “Think about kissing. But also sex. Boobs.”

“Yeah.” Zuko was silent for a long moment and Sokka hoped that was enough. It felt like the
ominous weight of another uncomfortable conversation was hanging over him, heavy and
threatening, and he didn’t know if he had the mental strength to deal with it.

Zuko shifted a little, Sokka could feel his shoulder brush his back as his friend turned to stare
up at the roof of the tent. “You wanted me to tell you what I think about,” Zuko said quietly.

Ugh. He had. But that was before the most recent trauma. All thoughts of sex and fun had
crawled back down inside him. “Yeah. You don’t have to, though. I mean, after everything.”

Zuko made a frustrated noise that was close to a growl. “I want to know what you think
about. I can’t… I can’t think about what I think about.”

Sokka rolled onto his back and rubbed his face, still too tired to cope with Zuko’s everything.
Including his stressed out sentences. “You can’t fantasise about my fantasies, you need your
own.”

“I don’t want to.”

He didn’t know why this discussion was happening, or what the right thing to say was. But he
thought he had the right of it. Whatever these fantasies Zuko was struggling with were, they
should be something that were his, not Sokka’s. “Tell me about what they were before, then.
You don’t have to be descriptive,” he tried.

“No,” Zuko said firmly. “They weren’t good then, either.”

Sokka let out a frustrated breath. This was the opposite of the comfortable, exciting feeling
he’d had last time. “It’s just kissing, or whatever. Nothing inherently good or bad about that.”

“What I thought about was… not good. It was wrong. If I can just think about what you think
about… The, um, boobs.” He sounded desperate and pathetic. How shit did your self-esteem
have to be to think your own jerk off fantasies weren’t good enough?

Sokka shut his eyes. Could he never get a break from this? But he had to help. There wasn’t
anyone else. He turned over to face his friend, and found Zuko doing intense staring, like he
could glare an answer out of Sokka. Great.

“Why do you need to think about any of it right now? After what happened the other day, can
you give yourself some time?”

“No.”

Sokka considered him, and thought about the way Zuko was with things, how he dealt with
them. He threw himself at problems, attacked head on, repeatedly. Why hadn’t he realised
that? Zuko jerking off, still trying to talk about this, was Zuko trying to fight what had
happened to him. Trying to normalise himself. He couldn’t give himself a rest, a chance to
heal. He didn’t know how.

“Okay, but what if my stuff is the same as yours?” Sokka pushed himself up on one elbow to
look down at Zuko, as he scowled at nothing in particular. “Won’t whatever problem you
have be the same?” he asked, more gently this time, although not too much. Sympathy could
easily be mistaken for pity.

Zuko shook his head against the pillow. “Stuff gets in the way. I thought if I could think about
what you think about, it might be different.”

“I don’t think it really works like that, buddy. You could try with something from before,
maybe? Way before. The first fantasy you ever had?”

“I don’t want to.”

“Kissing sounds okay?” That seemed like the least worrying option.

“If I think about it, I think about him. That’s the only time. So that’s… it gets into my head.”

Sokka took some breaths. This was hard to navigate. Why couldn’t Zuko have kissed Suki
when he had the chance? That was probably an uncharitable thought, but he was upset he had
to think about this when everything felt raw and awful. But he also felt like he had to help.
Who else would?

But not right now.

“Let me think about it, okay? Let me have a few days. I feel... I feel a bit fucked up,” he
admitted. “I don’t want...” How to explain? “I don’t want my own fantasies to get mixed up
with what just happened. Do you understand?”

Zuko let out a puff of breath. “Yeah. Thank you.”

“No problem, buddy.”

It was a problem. But one for another time.

They reached the river by midday. It was like meeting up with an old friend, and he thought
they all had an overwhelming sense of relief. They headed down to the banks to refill flasks
with fresh water and wash off themselves and their clothes. Sokka’s blood splattered tunic
was starting to stink.

Having things out in the open was… better, actually. Sokka hadn’t realised how anxious he
had been about his scars being discovered.

It was still awkward when he took off his shirt to wash, and he still winced and cringed at
Katara’s sharp intake of breath and Aang’s angry exhale, the air around him feeling
pressured, like the wind before a storm.

“Hideous,” Toph said blandly.

Katara gasped in outrage, and then seemed to reconsider, clinking her mouth shut with a
snap. If she could see with her eyes, Toph would probably have already learned to be very
concerned when that angry wrinkle appeared between Katara’s brows. As it was, she was
grinning like a snow spirit. Sokka felt himself grin back, some of the tension easing.

Zuko was a little more resistant, just giving himself a wash on exposed bits, with his
undershirt still on.

“We can bathe later, or you can, and I’ll keep them away,” Sokka said quietly. Although they
had camped as close as they could to the water, so it wouldn’t be easy.

“She's going to know,” Zuko said, and pointed vaguely to the hip burns.

He hadn’t been ashamed of them before, or at least he hadn’t acted that way. Not until it had
become obvious how he had got them.

“Yeah. Yeah, she will know, or guess,” Sokka said bluntly. It was better he knew that and
made a choice. “She won’t judge you for it. But Katara’s old enough to understand what he
was saying.”

There was a flash of something in Zuko’s eyes, but Sokka wasn’t sure what it was. It made
him shiver. Neither of them had given a very coherent explanation of what had happened
before he and the rest of team Avatar had come to the rescue. Katara had used too many
words, Zuko too few. Trauma maybe, or hiding something, Sokka wasn’t sure.

“I’m sorry, buddy. I know that’s the last thing you wanted. But we’re family, you and me.
And that means Katara is too. And that means so is the Avatar. I supposed we’re stuck with
Toph too, the little monster.”

Zuko was staring at him. He didn’t look upset. Well, not much. He looked like he was
carefully trying to process that information.

“She’s not literally a monster,” Sokka said, in case that was the confusion.
“I know that.” Zuko breathed out hard, a tendril of smoke coming out of his nose, which
made Sokka tense. He constantly forgot Zuko was a firebender. Even when he was lighting
their fire for them. “The Avatar is not my family,” Zuko said at last.

“Sorry, Sunshine, I’m not sure you get a choice with that one.”

“Why would they want that from me?” He sounded totally bemused.

Sokka shrugged. “You’re going to have to figure that out yourself.”

“You and I aren’t family, either. I mean, not in the related sense. Like brothers or sisters.
Although neither of us are girls, so it would be unlikely for us to be sisters, unless…”

Sokka watched him prattle for a moment, slightly baffled. Sometimes the most random shit
seemed to trigger off this sort of response. Perhaps he had a thought that was uncomfortable?
And then he somehow had to talk himself out of the thought? Some days Sokka felt like he
was a natural philosopher, studying bugs. The bug in this instance being Zuko. Actually, it
was always Zuko. He understood the rest of them to some extent.

“Zu, it’s fine,” Sokka said when Zuko finally paused to take a breath. “We’re the kind of
family who are friends, who love and trust each other and stick together. Not a literal one
through blood. It’s the same, but different, because we get to choose.”

That seemed to be working its way through his friend’s head, but he was still scowling. Was
he having a conniption because he was insulted by being lumped together with peasants? Or
was the association with family just so bad for him he didn’t want to connect it with his new
found friendships? Sokka couldn’t even begin to guess.

“Right. Okay,” Zuko said, eventually. “Family, but in a friend way.” He nodded a few times,
looking kind of pleased. That was good.

There was some good natured screaming from the three still waist deep in the river ‘training’.
Although as was often the case, training appeared to be some sort of water versus mud fight.
It was so good to hear the racket this time, like it had been with the fish squabble. It felt kind
of healing.

“I’m going to wash, then,” Zuko said, and dropped his shirt on Sokka’s head.

Sokka mock scowled at him. “You do that. You smell. I’m going to clean our stuff. You can
dry it when you’re done.”

Zuko nodded and Sokka grabbed their dirty gear and hauled it to the river’s edge, beginning
the arduous task of cleaning old bloodstains out of the cloth.

They would be back on the forced marches tomorrow, following the river into what he hoped
was the last valley before the city. It was supposed to be huge, but they hadn’t even seen it
yet.
He was very focused on getting every last speck of blood out of his tunic. Zuko had burned
his own. He was running out of clothes, and they would need to buy him something in the
city. At least they had the money from Shen and Taiju. Those coins were still untouched in
their purse. But even though they could get something new, Sokka was determined to save
what he had, even if there were now some suspicious stains on the green and brown fabric.

He scrubbed a bit harder.

There was a wet splat of a splash, and Katara said, “Oh,” in a funny voice.

She didn’t sound upset exactly, so Sokka didn’t panic, he just sent her a quick glance to check
she was okay, and to make sure he was a witness if Toph had dumped mud on her, so he
could point and laugh like a good big brother. She was looking red in the face. He followed
her gaze to see Zuko thigh deep in the river, washing in the intensely aggressive way he had.
It took Sokka another moment to register that, unlike the rest of them, he was naked.

Very naked. And just standing there in front of Sokka’s sister. Who was staring. And
blushing. But definitely staring.

Nudity was far from taboo in the Water Tribes, but it was in the house. They lived in one
room, being body shy was not really an option growing up. But that was family, when they
were kids…

...And he had just told Zuko they were family. Perhaps that had similar connotations in the
Fire Nation when it came to nudity. Zuko had been fine with bathing with Sokka. Had no
shame from the get go. Now apparently that translated into being fine with it in front of the
rest of them, too.

So he was just casually cleaning himself, bare to the world and Katara. Which was not okay.

“Zuko!” Even Sokka would be hard pressed to deny the word came out like a screech. “Sit
down!”

Zuko paused in vigorously scrubbing one arm like he was fighting a battle with it. “Why? I’ll
wash the dirt off when I’m done cleaning.”

Sokka pointed a finger at his sister, who was still staring. Really blatantly. “Turn around!” he
demanded.

She notably did not.

“What’s going on?” Toph asked. “Everyone is being really weird. Your heartbeats are wild.
Are we fighting? Who are we fighting?”

“Turn around!”

“What?” Katara asked, very red and still looking. Sokka decided she was a lost cause and the
root of the problem needed to be tackled. Literally. He started wading out towards Zuko, fully
intending to push him in.
Out of the corner of his eye, Sokka could see Aang leaning on Toph, an expression on his
face that seemed to be warring between childish glee and envy. “Different bathing customs,
Toph,” he said. Childish glee was definitely winning out.

“How can you bathe differently?” It was the only time Sokka had heard her sound quite so
bewildered.

But he had other things on his mind rather than laughing at her. He reached Zuko and
launched himself at him, but it was like smacking face first into the side of a boulder. Zuko
made an annoyed noise and grabbed back at him. “Sokka!”

Sokka tried to grapple with him, but he was slippery and wet, and also Zuko, so he was
strong and unmovable. Sokka kicked him in the back of the knee and they went down in a
splash and a tangle of limbs Sokka landing mostly on top. Zuko smacked him hard across the
shoulder.

“What are you doing?”

“You’re naked in front of my sister!” Sokka managed once his head was clear of the water.

“I’m bathing. How else are you supposed to get clean!” Zuko yelled right in his face.

“Everyone else is still in their underthings!” Sokka yelled back. He could feel his cheeks
were probably as red as Katara’s. He glanced at her. She was grinning.

“Well, I prefer to bathe naked! Like a normal person!” Zuko snarled. “Who wears clothes in
the bath? How do you clean yourself properly? You people are ridiculous!”

Toph was laughing, her evil giggles cascading over the water. Clearly, Aang had explained
the situation to her. “Jealous, snuggles?”

“Snuggles?” Sokka said indignantly. Seriously, Zuko got sparky, and he got snuggles?

“Yeah, you seem to like a snuggle.” She was grinning wide enough to split her face.

Zuko seemed to have been jarred out of his angry confusion by the nickname. He looked
surprised for a long moment, and then he started laughing. Or whatever that weird, creaky
and unbearably charming noise coming out of him was.

Sokka stared at him, water dripping from his short hair, face creased up, making that
ridiculous sound, and felt something very warm in his chest. A deep, aching, affection,
despite the sister flashing debacle.

“Spirits above and below, just go deeper into the water if you want to get naked in front of
my baby sister, okay?”

Zuko ignored him, still laughing.

“You’re all naked to me, anyway,” Toph said. “Dangly bits and all.”
“Toph!” Katara said, outraged. Like she had a leg to stand on.

Sokka really loved them. Even the little earthbending monster.

“Zuko?” Katara asked, later. When they were huddled around the fire, the excitement of the
day drying on their skin like the water.

“What?” Zuko said. He was leaning against Sokka, who was not snuggling. But he might
have been leaning in a little, feeling slightly sleepy and safe against Zuko’s solid form.

“Can you show me that move you did when you turned aside that… man’s fire whip?”

“You’re a waterbender, you can’t learn it from me.”

Katara nodded. “That’s true, but your uncle told me we can all learn from each other, even if
our bending is different. We would watch each other practice, or he would watch me practise,
and I would watch him do different bending kata.”

“You copied some of my moves before, Zuko,” Aang piped up.

“No I didn’t.”

“Sure did.” Aang got up and made some motions, without actually bending. “This is one I did
when we were fighting with the pirates, and then you did something...” He demonstrated
again, this time with slightly sharper movements. “When we were fighting the nuns. Or, you
were fighting the nuns, and I was fighting you.”

“I did not fight the nuns! They were just there,” Zuko grumbled.

Aang ignored him. “I thought you did it on purpose.”

Zuko had a frowny face, but it seemed to be a reflective one, rather than irritated. “Maybe.
Not on purpose, though.”

Katara smiled at him. It was warm, and not mocking. “Your uncle learned from waterbending
to make up some moves of his own. He showed them to me. And I refined the ice spikes,
copying some of Toph’s movements.”

“Because they’re the best.”

“Shut up, Toph. I just think maybe we could learn from each other, even if we can’t bend the
same.”

Zuko looked slightly pained at the mention of his uncle, but also interested. Definitely
interested. “Okay. It’s worth a shot, I guess? What did Uncle teach you? I didn’t know he had
based anything on waterbending.” Zuko paused, and his frown grew more intense. “That
would have been… looked down on, back home.”
“Shocking,” Sokka muttered. Zuko pointedly ignored him.

“He learned how to redirect lightning,” Katara said.

Zuko blinked at her. “Redirect it? I know he can generate it, but I’ve never heard of
redirecting it.”

So, apparently firebenders could generate lightning. What a terrifying fact to suddenly learn
while not snuggling one. Sokka felt a little dizzy.

“I can show you, if you want? It’s a firebending move. He told me if I tried it, I would
probably be fried.” Katara smiled again. It was weird seeing her look like that at Zuko. He
hoped it wasn’t because of the show earlier. But nah, it was because he had proved himself to
her. And also, perhaps because his trauma being so… exposed the way it had been, had
humanised him in a way that just fighting and talking had not. Which was fucking sad,
actually. But understandable.

“I would really like that,” Zuko said quietly. “I can show you whatever you like in return.”

Katara beamed. So did Aang.

They went aside to practise their new bending nonsense. Lightning bending. What the fuck.

Aang still looked pleased at the new apparent peace. It was slightly surprising, as he was
obviously carrying a bit of a torch for Katara. Anyone could see that, with the possible
exception of Zuko, who would have to be actively slammed over the head with it before he
got a clue. But he didn’t seem jealous in the way he had with some of the other boys who had
interacted with Katara. Sokka wasn’t sure why. Zuko was attractive, older, hot headed and
brave. But he supposed he was also Zuko. So while that might be the magic combination of
Katara attraction, in this case she was more likely to stick her head into an active volcano
than go there, today’s incident notwithstanding. That must be it. Aang was pretty astute,
emotionally, so he was probably confident at the lack of competition.

“Jealous?” he asked anyway, mostly to be annoying. His friendship with Aang had picked up
where it had left off at the North Pole. But a lot of Sokka’s time was taken up by Zuko. He
needed to remember to give a bit of that big brother energy to his other friends.

“A bit,” Aang said easily. “But I figure this might be a great first step to Zuko practising with
me, so I can wait.” He grinned, his eyes sliding back to his friends by the lake, who seemed
to be doing some sort of slow, synchronised dance moves that involved pointing at stuff.

“I didn’t mean over the bending, Aang. I mean, of them being closer.” Sokka put as much
insinuation into the word as he could.

Instead of reacting the way Sokka expected, Aang looked at him with concern. Then he
reached out and patted Sokka on the knee, his whole face radiating sincerity. “Katara would
never do something like that. You don’t have to worry.”
Sokka was confused, and suddenly felt like they were having a different conversation. But he
grinned back, still trying to puzzle it out.

“Zuko wouldn’t either. He’s very loyal,” Aang added.

“You don’t know that, you barely know him.”

“He’s loyal to you. Anyone could see that.”

“True, but still…”

“Spirit’s above,” Toph said from where she was lounging on a small structure pulled out of
the earth. “You are so very, very dumb.”

“Rude,” Sokka said automaticity.

From the expression on Aang’s face, he didn’t understand either. Which one of them was
dumb? Why?

Toph started snickering, and refused to elaborate, no matter how hard they tried to get it out
of her.

Aang leant over to whisper in Sokka’s ear. “We should get her.”

Sokka grinned, confusion momentarily forgotten.

………..

Kazuma found he enjoyed Xin Yan’s company. She was reserved, cautious, and quick witted.
It made her easy to work with, and pleasant to talk to. They didn’t bother with wine, just
spoke over tea, which she made with great skill and care.

“Zhao will be here tonight,” she said, as she knelt to pour them both a cup of ginseng. “He
has the past two nights.” Her mouth tightened a little.

“I take it he has not behaved well?”

“He has been… unhappy. From what he has told me, I believe he had anticipated being the
Princess’ chosen suitor.”

“Yes, I suspect that was the case.” He would be incensed at the slight, enraged at his ambition
being thwarted. “I would have enjoyed witnessing his discovery of that, but I am sorry you
have had to deal with the fallout.”
She shrugged, a graceful shift of her shoulders. “His behaviour towards the women has been
very bad. As it is whenever he is displeased in his life.”

“I’m sorry you have to endure that.”

“We must all endure.” Xin Yan sat back more comfortably, visibly allowing herself to relax.

She seemed so placid and accepting of her lot in life. Kazuma wondered if it was purely
cultivated, or a defence mechanism. “Some must endure more than others. I have a little
understanding of the kind of man he is. The things he does. If there is anything I can do?”

She shot him a look that seemed rather indulgent. “We deal with these things in house. He
can be unpleasant, but there is a limit. My mistress will only tolerate so much. This is a high-
class place. Damaged goods don’t bring in coin.”

That felt more grim than reassuring. “I see. The offer is open.”

She nodded, sipping her tea. “I believe Zhao plans to try to integrate himself with his rival.
He hates him, but he may seek to assert influence, or perhaps something more sinister.”

“Oh, I fully believe he intends to rid himself of Jianjun, one way or another.” Kazuma wasn’t
sure what he felt about that. On one hand, he was inclined to let them fight it out. On the
other, he felt the need to protect Jianjun to some degree. Not because of any affection he had
for him, but because of the thought of what Zhao had done to Prince Zuko. His cruelty
extended beyond the acts of violence themselves. Jianjun deserved to be knocked down a peg
or two, but he didn’t deserve to be hurt, physically or emotionally.

Kazuma was also somewhat concerned that the boy would not survive long enough to marry,
and that if he did, he would not make it through his wedding night. The consequence of
which would be Azula’s downfall.

She was another one he was conflicted about. He resented the blackmail, the threats to his
loved ones. But she was also a child, an arrogant, vicious one, with the power to cause real
harm to many, but a child nonetheless. And she was in danger from her own father, that much
was clear. Kazuma had taken to listening carefully to the rumours he had previously been
disinterested in. The ones relating to the interplay in the royal family and the court.

It was not looking good for her. And in a strange way, he did feel some loyalty to her. And he
wanted what was best for the nation. Ozai was not the finest option for that. The treason
made him experience turbulent feelings he couldn’t quite come to grips with, but perhaps if
he could keep Azula alive, some of those confused emotions might even out. Of course, he
himself would need to survive Azula, to be of any use to her.

“What shall I tell Zhao when I see him?” Xin Yan asked.

Kazuma considered for a moment. “Tell him I’m still pining over my woman. You have not
discovered her identity.”

The girl gave him a small, sly smile. “That’s very boring, Captain.”
“Oh? What do you suggest?”

“I have already told him that you suspect she has another lover. And that she might be
highborn. He is hanging onto every word.”

Kazuma snorted. “You seem to have a talent for weaving tales.”

“I enjoy reading. I like stories.”

“Very well. Why don’t you imply she already has a husband. Someone of note.” He tapped a
finger against his cup, where it rested on the arm of his chair. “But not too important, not so
high he will plot against this fictional man. Say that I am too heartbroken to look for another
love myself.”

“I’ll tell him that you tried and embarrassed yourself.” She gave him another smile, this one
closer to a grin. He thought it made her quiet loveliness shine. Men like Zhao who wanted to
use and possess another’s beauty never got to truly witness it.

“You enjoy painting me in an unflattering light,” he said with a smile of his own.

“It is not often I get the chance to weave an ugly portrait of a man with his help.”

Kazuma smirked. “The more pathetic he thinks I am, the better.”

It had been a pleasing evening, spent in good company, but it took a sudden unpleasant turn
when he left Xin Yan’s quarters and headed through to the main room. Zhao was indeed
there, and with him, Jianjun. The boy looked angry and sullen, which was his normal
countenance. But there was a tension to his shoulders that suggested he was suffering
discomfort.

Kazuma had been hoping the admiral would arrive later. Jianjun being present made it worse,
and he had a brief moment of hope he could slip out unnoticed, but it was quickly dashed
when Zhao caught his eye and smiled. It was the sort of smile he seemed to think looked
friendly, but to the casual observer had more the look of a tiger-shark scenting blood.

“Captain Kazuma! Please, join us,” Zhao called.

Kazuma’s heart sank into his stomach.

Jianjun turned and sneered when he caught sight of him. The damage was done, and there
was no escape. Kazuma could not refuse the invitation. Zhao outranked him, and even though
this was a social situation, it just wasn’t done.

He approached and bowed low, first to Zhao, then to Jianjun.

“So this is where you have been hiding, Kazuma,” Jianjun said rudely. “You really should
have run further.” The opportunity to be an arse seemed to have cheered him up a bit.
“I was not running,” Kazuma said primly. “My Lord Jianjun, congratulations on your
upcoming nuptials.”

Jianjun’s face soured again. Interesting. Kazuma had expected some level of gloating, but
instead, he seemed unhappy with the arrangement. Perhaps he knew his chances of surviving
to his majority had just decreased significantly. Or maybe he had realised that married life
would probably not provide much in the way of wedded bliss.

“My father wants your head on a pike,” Jianjun said, leaning back and crossing one leg over
the other.

“Your father wants a lot of heads on pikes. Personally, I am rather fond of mine staying
where it is, thank you.”

“I’m sure it’s not as bad as all that,” Zhao said. “Is it?” He kicked out a chair and gestured for
Kazuma to sit, which he did, reluctantly.

Bastard. Zhao knew this was going to cause trouble. It was too good an opportunity for him
to pass up. He knew that if he exposed Kazuma’s presence, it would put him at serious risk
and he would need Zhao’s protection. If he was willing to give it.

Of course, the arrogant fucker didn’t know Kazuma’s current patron outranked both him and
Tsing. For now, at least. But it was unlikely Azula would be able to extend her protection
openly. So he was still up a certain creek without a paddle.

“It is,” Jianjun said with a satisfied smirk. “Kazuma was in charge of Lao Fort when it was
raided, blown up, and all our supplies destroyed. Do you know how expensive that has
been?”

“I can hazard a guess,” Kazuma said dryly.

Jianjun leaned forward. He seemed to be enjoying himself. “Then, adding insult to injury,
you deserted.”

“I did not desert, I’m still here. I was merely following a lead.”

Zhao poured him a drink, clearly also enjoying the situation.

“And has that lead panned out?” Jianjun asked with blatantly fake curiosity written all over
his face. One day, with a little experience and training in verbal sparring, Jianjun might be
worth matching wits with. As it was, he was more of a blunt instrument than a sleek blade.

“Not as such. But I am sure it will,” Kazuma said calmly, taking a sip of his horrible wine.

“You are still in my father’s service. He’ll have you punished. You’ll be lucky if you just lose
your commission.” Chance would be a fine thing. Being kicked out of the army would be a
relief after the past few months. Maybe he could get a job as a librarian or an archivist. A
pipe dream, but a pleasant one.
Jianjun’s smile grew a little nasty. “But judging from the things he has been saying, I expect
it will be more severe than that. I might enjoy watching. So far, the entertainment in the
capital has been lacking.”

Kazuma could see a frown fall over Zhao’s features. Clearly, he had been the one providing
said entertainment.

Despite the threat and the barbs, Kazuma could feel the discomfort and anxiety radiating off
the boy. He didn’t visit brothels. Or he had not done so since he was old enough to show an
interest in such things. Jianjun was stuck, much like Kazuma had been. Refusing to come
here, to partake in the… wares on offer, would cause suspicion or insult.

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” Zhao said, breaking into Kazuma’s musings. The Admiral pushed
himself up from the table. “I must use the facilities. Please continue without me. And let’s
keep things civil, shall we?” he smiled in that obnoxious predatory way that betrayed his true
thoughts.

Kazuma watched him leave and then turned his attention back to Jianjun, as he scowled into
his wine. He had grown into his features since they had last met. He wasn’t strikingly
handsome, but he had an intensity that could catch a woman’s eye. If he lived long enough to
reach full adulthood, he would turn heads from that alone.

But right now, he looked like a kid out of his depth and lashing out in his anxiety.

Jianjun’s gaze kept sliding towards the dancers and serving women. There was definitely
interest there, so the problem wasn’t that he was perverted in the same way Kazuma was. But
something was holding him back. Kazuma had heard no rumours that he had a lover,
although it was a possibility. A girl he was so enamoured with that he couldn’t bring himself
to entertain another woman’s affections, perhaps? Whatever it was, he seemed profoundly
unhappy and uncomfortable in the current situation.

Kazuma sighed, mostly on the inside, but perhaps a little on the outside, judging from the
slightly irate look the boy shot him.

“Why are you even here?” Jianjun snapped. “I know you well enough to know you would not
sleep with prostitutes.”

“Oh?” Kazuma asked with concern.

“You’re an uptight clean freak, and there’s nothing so dirty as other men’s leavings.”

Kazuma felt a little dizzy with the rush of relief that spread through him. “You’re so
charming. I’m sure your future wife just can’t wait to tie the knot.”

“Your insubordination will get you in serious trouble, Kazuma,” the boy snarled, the look in
his eyes turning ugly.

Kazuma shrugged and sipped his wine. “What are you going to do? Report me twice?” He
sighed again, loudly this time. “I do not wish to fight with you, all appearances to the
contrary. You were correct when you said I am not the sort of person who would normally
frequent a brothel. And nor are you.” He leaned back, keeping an eye out for Zhao. “So I
would propose a deal.”

“A deal? What do you have to offer me?” Jianjun scoffed, mirroring Kazuma’s relaxed,
almost indolent posture.

“A way to avoid awkward questions. There is a woman here who I see. She is very discreet if
you do not wish to have sex.”

“Why would you even bother to come here if that’s the case?”

“Much the same reason you did. Zhao wished it. He set me up with Xin Yan to spy on me.
Turns out I pay better and am far more likeable.”

“That's open to debate,” Jianjun muttered, and he very much sounded like the teenager he
was.

“Xin Yan and I have an arrangement, and so the tables are turned. We must all make strange
alliances in these times.”

“So you are saying I should hook up with your spy? Who is also Zhao’s spy?”

“You are in a brothel, Jianjun, you are expected to spend the night with one of the women
here. I’m offering you a way out. She passes on what I want to him. You do not need to share
anything personal for her to pass to me. The only secret she will have on you is the same as
she has on me. A wish to remain chaste.”

“And what do you want in return?”

“In exchange, I would rather you didn’t mention my presence to your father.”

Jianjun shook his head. “He will find out. If I don’t mention it he will still know. He is also a
man with spies.”

And then Jianjun would be punished for not sharing this information. “Okay, then perhaps
you can tell him a version of events where I am not a deserter. Put in a good word.”

“My father hardly…” He scowled. “I don’t see it would make any difference.”

“It will if you do it cleverly, Jianjun. Ask Xin Yan for advice, she is very good at twisting
information.”

“I am still not sure you are getting enough to justify this,” Jianjun said sceptically, pouring
himself another cup of wine and pointedly not doing the same for Kazuma.

“Then consider it a favour. Ichika is inexplicably fond of you. And I empathise with the
position you are in here. You do not have to take it, but it’s an option I am giving you.
Otherwise, go with whoever Zhao chooses, or leave. Save yourself for your new bride.”
Jianjun sneered. “What kind of man does that?”

“It’s your choice.” There was only one sensible avenue, though. And Kazuma suspected he
was going to take it.

“Is Ichika with you?” the boy asked after a moment.

“She is.”

Jianjun looked a little contemplative. “Is she your lover?”

Kazuma let out a huff of breath. “No, she is not. She is my friend. Something in short supply
for both of us. Zhao means you harm. You must know this.”

“And you don’t?”

“No. I don’t mean you well, either. But I get a certain amount of satisfaction in screwing over
a certain admiral of our acquaintance.”

“Why? Why are you involved with him at all?”

Kazuma shrugged. “I told you, I had a lead on the Blue Spirit. This led me to Zhao. It turned
out to be a dead end, at least, that aspect of it. But some... politics have become involved and
I find myself in a delicate position.”

“You hate politics.”

“I do, but sometimes we must travel the path others lay out for us. Or get eaten by the
wolves.”

“I don’t like you.” Jianjun said bluntly.

“The feeling is mutual. I like your father even less.”

Jianjun snorted. “No one likes powerful men.”

“If powerful men were not such arseholes, they would be better liked.”

The boy chewed his lip for a moment, again looking young and out of his depth. “Okay. Set
me up with your whore.”

“There is another condition.” Kazuma leant forward, pinning him with a sharp look. He was
smaller than Jianjun, but he could still be menacing if he had to be. “You will treat her with
respect. No name calling, no abusive language, no threats. Or I will make you regret it.”

“I see you two have been enjoying catching up,” Zhao said with false good humour, as he
approached the table.

Kazuma leaned back in his chair. “Jianjun would like to spend the evening with Xin Yan,” he
said, making his tone light. “I have sung her praises a little too much, I fear.”
“An excellent choice,” Zhao said, his eyes lighting up. No doubt he had planned something
similar. He wanted the boy to become involved with one of the girls in his pocket, after all.

“If you will excuse me then, Admiral. Kazuma.” Jianjun rose from the table, bowed barely
low enough not to be an insult, and went to speak to one of the women to make
arrangements.

“Rude little bugger, isn’t he?” Zhao said. He looked pleased. “Let me buy you a drink,
Captain.”

“Just the one. I have a prior engagement.”

Zhao laughed, still in good spirits. “Very well.”

He really needed to stop coming home half cut or worse. At least this time, he made it
through the door without incident.

“Jianjun says hello,” he said as he passed Ichika on the way to his chamber to change out of
his incense soaked clothes.

“Jianjun? Why… He’s the last person you should be associating with, Kazuma!”

“A little hard to avoid at the moment. Especially as Zhao seems to want to engineer it,” he
called over his shoulder as he put on a more casual house robe. “He wants me over a barrel.”
He leaned on the door frame and looked down at his friend, where she sat surrounded by
papers and the remains of some honey cakes. “Tsing wants my head on a pike.”

Ichika scowled up at him. “He’s not the only one.” She sighed, clearly irritated. “You let his
fortress blow up, and then deserted. He is going to want blood.”

“I didn’t desert. I went on a short sabbatical. And now I’m employed by his betters. So he
certainly won’t get my execution.”

“You might still get a knife in the back.”

He watched her quietly until she looked even more annoyed. “Why did you spend time with
Jianjun? He seemed to have genuine affection for you,” he asked.

She shrugged and began sorting her paperwork, rustling the pages vigorously. “It’s better to
be in his good books than bad,” she answered a little too easily.

He hated that he could no longer trust her words. There was more to this, like there
apparently was to everything she did. Kazuma crossed the room to his chair, stepping over
her mess. He sat and watched her some more until she grew visibly agitated.

“If you have something to say, Kazuma, say it.”

“I don’t think you answered my question. You did, but there’s more.”

“Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know, Ichika, perhaps because you have been plotting treason for the whole time I
have known you?” He glared at her. He could feel the stress of the day rising in his blood,
and he had to resist the very strong urge to wash his hands, to at least get some of the feel of
the past few hours off him. “Do not get me wrong, I trust you with my life, with my best
interests. Absolutely and without question.”

He saw her face soften a little. That was only the truth, though. He did trust her with those
things. “But that’s as far as it goes. To my eyes, everything else is suspect now!” He breathed
out in a huff of angry air.

“I’m sorry you feel that way.”

“Oh, well, if you’re sorry, then I’m sure I’m wrong.”

She tipped her head back, long strands of escaped hair tumbling down her back. “Tsing is old.
In a few years, or ten, he will die, and Jianjun will take over. A good influence where it can
be given is sensible, no?”

“Sure. I can see that. What else?”

She scowled at him. “You really are a suspicious man these days.”

“I learn fast. What else, Ichika?”

She blew loose strands of her hair out of her face. “Tsing is a powerful leader. He commands
a lot of men, and although his methods are cruel, he is very efficient. Perhaps because of his
cruelty. As long as he has the Fire Lord’s favour, people won’t dispute him. If we want a
change of regime, then the key players in the government and the army need to be managed
as much as Ozai.” Or the change in power would leave a vacuum, resulting in worse for the
nation. Much worse.

“Isn’t it better if you try to influence Tsing?”

Ichika scoffed. “If I thought I could do so, even if I had to become his lover, then I would.”

Kazuma shuddered. Well, that was a deeply horrible thought.

“But he has no interest in women his own age,” she continued.

“You’re not that old.” He rubbed his hands over his face. They smelt faintly like wine and
incense, and the overwhelming need to wash them flooded him again.

“I was being polite. He likes them young. I’m not.”

“I hope you are not planning to seduce Jianjun.”

She shot him a look that was equal parts distaste and exasperation. “No, I want Jianjun to
achieve his potential.” She sounded bleak.

“Which is?”

“Even when he achieves the highest praise, he can never please his father, being a non-
bender.”

Kazuma pursed his lips, staring at the floor like it could give him the answers he wanted. “I
suspect if he was able to bend, then he would still face the same problem. I wonder if Azula
is right about his parentage. If Tsing suspects, perhaps that forms part of his resentment?”

“Stop thinking about it. If you start digging and discover things, she will get them out of you.
Besides, I think Tsing is just like Ozai. A man too consumed with himself to find pleasure in
the life and success of others, except where it highlights his own glory. Even if Jianjun was
the perfect son, his father would still be cold.”

“You’re probably right. Before, you said he was trying to impress his father, but now you
seem to be implying he might want to… get rid of him? And you want him to?

She said nothing, just flexed her ink-stained fingers.

“You want him to usurp his father’s position? Kill him? That would hardly be in his best
interests. The Fire Lord would have the boy killed.” Publicly and unpleasantly.

“I certainly wouldn’t want him to do it openly. Which he might, without a little guidance.
He’s rash enough.”

Kazuma hummed noncommittally. He wondered if he actually was. He certainly appeared so,

but surely someone impulsive would have stormed out of the situation earlier. Would have
even made an attempt to challenge Kazuma in some public way, although obviously not an
Agni Kai.

“It may not come to that, but I fear it might,” Ichika said. “He must suspect his father killed
his mother, someone who truly loved him. If he does reach a point where he turns against
Tsing, I want him to survive it, and I want him to do better.”

“His potential could go either way. He may turn out just like his father. Worse.”

“I wish for him to be given the opportunity to be better. Don’t you?”

He did, but that was no guarantee he would. “And if he doesn’t? If he just becomes another
tyrant?”

“Then I want to be close enough to fix the problem.”

Fix the problem. What a polite way to describe murdering a young man. From the look on
her face, some messy emotion between resignation and determination, she was prepared to do
it.
And desperately hoped she wouldn’t have to.

Kazuma sighed again, feeling it right down to his bones. “Tell me how to help.” He was
going to regret this, and it was bound to shorten his life considerably, but what was one more
thread in this ridiculous tapestry his life had become?

…………

Travelling was hard. The lashes on Shen’s back stung, itched and ached as he walked. He let
Suki set the pace, due to her shorter legs. But if he had been hoping for something less
intense, he would have been disappointed. She was small, but used to travelling on foot. She
was also full of determined enthusiasm to reach their destination, and to stay ahead of
Huang’s men, who might be following them, if Wei couldn’t persuade them to just give up. It
was not a comfortable start to their journey.

He had to allow Suki to apply salve to the long cuts, as he couldn’t reach them himself, and
he couldn’t risk allowing them to fester. Her small, callused fingers were far gentler than any
of Zuli’s attempts at playing nurse. But the feel of it filled him with remembered humiliation.
The shame burned and made his stomach cold and twisted. The pain was nothing compared
to that feeling. He had given up more than half a lifetime to the army and he had received
many floggings for a variety of infractions, mostly well deserved. But none since he had
achieved captain, none that felt unjust in the way this had. He understood the need for it,
sure. But when it came to it, all the intellectual understanding in the world hadn’t helped.

He wished he was a drinker. Fuck, if he had access to alcohol right now, he would give it his
best shot. The idea of drowning himself in liquor didn’t sound half so bad as it should.

Except he wouldn’t. Because he had to look out for Suki. Fuck Hakoda for understanding
that, and fuck Wei for putting this in motion. At least if he had gone to his death, he wouldn’t
have to suffer his feelings all the damn time.

“Shen, I can actually hear you grinding your teeth. It’s giving me the icks.”

“The icks? That the fuck is an ick? No, never mind, I don’t want to know,” Shen muttered.

Suki was tucked up under one of his arms as they lay under the dubious shelter of a mostly
burnt out barn. The first few nights, sleeping with a teenage girl cuddled up to him had
been… weird? A bit uncomfortable. A sentiment Suki clearly had not shared, as she had
pulled his arm and shoulder over her like a blanket and settled immediately.

Normally he slept on his back, but as that was currently cut to ribbons, he was forced onto his
front or side, mostly squishing the slight girl. It had been different when the boys had been
there too, acting like a buffer. It had just been a warm pile of bodies. Without them, it had felt
a little like that first night in the cells, when he’d had to take a piss in front of her.
His hesitancy had been rather obvious the first night he and Suki had been on the road, and
she had poked him mercilessly with her hard little fingers. “You let Li lie all over you, what’s
different?” she had asked with a scowl.

He had blinked at her. Not sure if she wanted him to point out the very obvious difference.

She had just rolled her eyes up in the most exaggerated manner and poked him again. “Do
you want to ravish me in my sleep?”

“No, of course not!”

“Well, the feeling is mutual. Get over it and stop angsting.”

She was, it turned out, far more practical and blunt than the boys had been. And it was what
he needed. Since then, things had become far more normalised, her slight weight comforting
in his arms when he woke.

They were heading to a free port along the northern branch of the river. Their route was
taking them through the forest, running parallel to the water. It was flowing wide and fast
through a gorge below them. They would have to descend before they could actually hope to
cross it. And they would need to do that carefully. There were people on the wide expanse of
water, fast moving trade ships mostly, but also some Fire Nation navy vessels that seemed to
be equally well equipped for the river as they were for the sea.

As Shen understood it, the free port was still open to both Earth and Fire ships and trade. It
allowed for a lot of smuggling and he hoped that would provide a way for them to get into
the city.

His money had been taken when his rank was stripped. But Wei and Hakoda had both
provided them with some coins. He wasn’t sure if it would be enough with the present
climate of uncertainty in the area. Perhaps he could get work, although doing what he had no
idea. All he knew how to do was kill people, and signing himself up as a mercenary wouldn’t
work with their current plans.

“Blugh,” Suki said as they walked. They were following a game trail, keeping the river to the
left of them.

“You okay?” Shen asked her, one hand going to his weapon. He had been feeling jumpy the
last day or so.

Suki kicked a foot at the leaf litter, scattering it into the slight breeze coming from over the
water far below them. “I have cramps. Nothing to worry about.”

“Was it the leftover bird we ate this morning? It shouldn’t have been warm enough for it to
turn so soon.”
She grinned at him. “No Shen. Not those kind of cramps. Although your idea of food safety
seems to be if it’s not growing mould, it’s edible, so I do anticipate those in my future, too.”

“I don’t see what’s wrong with that philosophy,” he told her, while his brain sluggishly ran
over the conversation. It took him a moment to figure out what she had meant by cramps, and
another to overcome a small panic about it. “Do you need help?” he asked tentatively.

She stopped walking and stared at him. “Help? What exactly are you offering to do?”

He… had no idea. “Stuff? Do you need stuff?”

“Stuff?”

Spirits above, what had he done to deserve this? He stopped and made a face at her, while she
laughed at him, almost bending double.

“I am perfectly capable of looking after myself, Shen. Have you ever even met a woman
other than for sex?”

“I’m friends with plenty of women!” he said indignantly. And yes, he had slept with all of
them at one point or another, but even if sex was no longer on the table, he still enjoyed their
company when it was offered. It was just that there were not a lot of women in the army.
He’d hadn’t lived with one since reaching adulthood, certainly not in close quarters. There
were people like Qinwen, of course, but she was an adult in a position of responsibility. In
this scenario, he was the one in that position. He felt concerned mostly because of Suki’s age,
not her gender. He thought that was true. Maybe. He sighed. “Fine, okay, you’re the expert.
Just tell me if I ever do anything stupid.”

“Like asking If I need ‘stuff’.”

“Like that, yes.”

She began laughing again, snorting as she started walking.

He had a feeling this teenage team up was going to involve far more mockery than his
association with either of the boys had.

At least this time, he would not be expected to give any kind of sex talk. Or he hoped not.
Spirits, he hoped not.

They had chosen a spot to camp away from the path. Dusk was falling between the trees, and
the wind had picked up a little. Shen had left Suki to examine their food for mould, and set
out to find some firewood. There had been a smattering of rain and a lot of the branches were
damp. There had been no sign of pursuit, and he thought they were no longer in danger from
the Earth army, but he assumed there was Fire Nation in the forest too, and too much smoke
seemed inadvisable. He had to hunt further into the trees to try and find sticks that were
dryer.
Shen’s body was hurting. The past month had left him somewhat malnourished, and his
wounds were taking longer to heal. He felt weak. He could remember what his body felt like
before the 54th were sent out to die. It seemed like such a long time ago, another life. But he
could recognise that how he felt now was different. He was still active, hardly an invalid, but
even his bones felt tired.

He felt another rush of anger thinking about it. About the 54th. They had been his
responsibility, his family. And now they were dead or out of his reach. He had to stop and
take a few breaths. He was furious. Furious at what had happened to them, furious with
Huang, with the Fire Nation, with the system, the army. Himself.

All of those men had been good people. They’d had names and dreams and things they had
wanted to achieve, even if it had been winning the next game of dice, or eating a favourite
food again. He had to close his eyes and push the feelings down. There was nothing that
could be done about it, and he had to focus on the here and now. But it was hard.

He shoved aside some prickly branches and stopped dead as he came face to face with a
monster.

It was laying in a small clearing, huge and terrifying.

There were platypus bears further north, and sabretooth moose lions in the area, but they
avoided the army, never causing any issue to the large groups he travelled with. He hadn’t
factored in the possibility of running into some large predatory animal when it was just him
and one feisty sixteen-year-old. He was lucky they hadn’t come across something similar
when he was travelling with the boys. Zuli probably would have tried to fight a duel with it.
Or at least yelled it into submission, and probably been eaten for his trouble. Either that or he
would have tried to befriend it.

Shen thought his mind might be wandering a bit in his panic.

He had no idea what this was, or whether it would attack and eat him. It was very, very large,
mud brown and covered in spikes. And he had just stepped into the clearing with no thought,
so it had spotted him at the same time he had seen it. Its enormous eyes were watching
balefully. He took a step back, and the thing opened its mouth and bellowed, the noise loud
and strangely mournful.

Its teeth were as big as his hand.

He might have shrieked, just a little.

“Shen!” Suki’s voice, concerned at all the noise. He wanted to tell her to stay back, but it was
too late and she burst into the small clearing. She stopped and gasped, knocking away the
hand he held out to try to move her away. “Appa!” she said.

Appa? They had mentioned an Appa. Shen had thought it was a person. Zuli had called them
a cow, and Shen had thought he was just being rude, but apparently he had been referring to
whatever this was.
It was no kind of cow anything Shen had seen before. Cow boar could get big, and would eat
you if they could, but this was four, maybe five times larger.

The thing stood, and Shen added an extra boar to his size scale.

It had too many legs. Shen stared at them. “What the actual fuck is that?” he muttered.

“Sky bison,” Suki said, holding out one of her hands and moving forward slowly.

“They’re extinct,” Shen said faintly.

“They missed one.”

“Right.” Didn’t the Avatar have a bison? The Avatar that Sokka, Zuli and presumably Suki,
knew.

He glanced around, half expecting an airbender to drop out of the trees, but there were just a
few irritated bird calls, clearly annoyed by all the yelling.

Suki moved towards the animal, hands out, like approaching a spooked ostrich horse. “Hey
Appa, do you remember me?”

“Why is it spiky?” Shen asked. Part of his brain had not moved past the very sensible fear of
something big enough to squish him with one foot.

“Those are thorns, you dumbass. Stuck in his fur.” Suki lowered her voice to something
soothing. “Poor boy, what’s happened to you?”

Oh. She was right. Now the adrenaline was fading, and he was slightly less concerned about
being devoured by the thing, he could see it was in a bad way. There was still a risk of being
trampled by it though, even if he thought bison were vegetarians?

“Suki, please be careful.”

She chuckled. “Aww, are you scared of the big herbivore, Shen?”

“Not scared…” He reconsidered. “Cautious. It looks like it could swallow you in one gulp.”

“He would never, would you, Appa? Do you remember me?”

It cowered a little, despite its size, and made a guarded, sad noise that was still as loud as a
foghorn.

Suki had reached it, and pet its nose as it hesitantly sniffed at her, licking her wrist with a
tongue that looked to be as wide as she was.

“Poor baby. Where’s Aang?” She was keeping her voice soft, but her face was full of worry.
“What happened to you?”

It made another sad snuffle sound.

“This is Shen.” Suki pointed at him.

“You are introducing me by name to a… six-legged cow thing,” Shen said, bemused.

“Don’t be rude. And don’t listen to Li. Appa is a bison.”

“Right. Hi, Appa,” Shen said.

He wasn’t sure if he wanted to get any closer to it, but Suki had begun to tug the giant thorns
out of its thick coat. “Some help please?” she asked. “He doesn’t know you, so let him sniff
you first.”

“Right.” Shen extended a hand and approached cautiously. It snuffled at his outstretched
palm, its nose soft, wet and a little rubbery. Tentatively, he reached his other hand around to
pet the dirty fur, thick with mud and dust. It rumbled at him, nearly giving him a heart attack.
The coat was coarse on the top hair, but under that it was soft and fluffy. He bet Zuli would
have liked it.

“If the sky bison is here, where’s the Avatar?” he asked.

Suki looked grim. “He would never let Appa get into this sort of state. Something must have
happened to him.”

That was bad news. But there was no use dwelling on it, and they began trying to get the
animal a little cleaner. They had no water or brushes, so they had to use their fingers to try to
shake the mud loose. There was a lot of bison to cover. The beast rumbled at them as they
worked, and Shen rested a hand against its big middle, feeling the vibrations. Now he had
stopped nearly shitting his pants in fear, he was kind of fascinated by it. He had never been so
close to such a big animal before. And despite its size, it was cute, if still quite intimidating.

Suddenly, the bison let out a low agitated sounding rumble, his body shifting under Shen’s
hands

“That’s not a good noise,” Suki said, just before the first soldier burst through the under-bush.
Appa bellowed, angry and fierce and loud enough to almost knock Shen back on his heels.

“Find the Avatar!” the soldier shouted.

Shen drew his sword and stepped in front of the bison. “Get it away from here, Suki!”

Behind him, she was cussing up a storm as more men charged into the clearing. “We can get
on his back, Shen!” Suki called.

“Are you mad?” He met the first soldier with a clash of steel. The adrenaline that had begun
to ebb rushed back, and he settled into the fight like it was a second skin. But his body was
aching again, he could feel it under the battle calm. These were not the best conditions to be
fighting in.

He parried a blow and then had to leap backwards as one of the soldiers came at him from the
side with a blast of fire. He stumbled before catching himself, but he had lost his advantage
over the other man. A second jet of fire caused him to half cover his face with his arm as it
seared the air close to his head. He fucking hated fighting firebenders.

Appa let out a terrified bellow and Shen twisted his body slightly so see the animal launch
himself into the air, using his flat tail to give him lift, and causing a mild firestorm from the
bender’s blast. The strong gust of air from the bison caught the forest floor and some of the
tightly woven branches alight.

That was a fucking disaster, but Shen was slightly distracted gapping at the huge animal as it
took off into the sky.

Flying. Somehow the flying part of flying bison had managed to pass him by.

“Shen, run!”

Suki had hold of his arm and he stopped staring and ran. There were shouting soldiers, smoke
and flames chasing them in equal measure. He had no idea which direction their camp was.
The only thing they had to orientate themselves was the quiet rush of the water, barely
audible below them.

“You should have ridden him! You should have gone!” Shen panted, as he twisted to see if
they were still being chased.

Behind them were soldiers, quickly gaining.

“I wasn’t going to leave you!”

“Well, now we’re both fucked!”

They slowed as they approached the cliff, leaning out over the wide, hard river.

“Ah, Crap,” Shen said. He quickly unwound the strip of leather he kept bound to his sword’s
pommel, tying the blade hilt tightly to the scabbard.

“Er, Shen, we might need that!” Suki said, still tugging his arm.

The soldiers, shrouded in smoke, were approaching too fast. He grabbed her around the
waist, tugging her close. “Hold your breath!”

“Shen!”

He ignored her and ran the last few steps to the edge, launching himself as far as he could.

The air rushed past his ears, and he could hear Suki screaming as they fell. He did have to
wonder at the fact this was the second time in a month he had hurled himself off a cliff into a
river in an effort to save a teenage menace.

He twisted as much as he could to take the impact, and they hit the water hard, the breath
leaving his body as the dark water swirled and buffeted him. Night had fallen as they ran and
 he couldn’t tell up from down. He just kicked his legs and hoped for the best while his empty
lungs burned and ached.

He had thought drowning was preferable to being burned, but right now he wasn’t so sure.

Chapter End Notes

The amazing Wylinka and Amisti did a collab of a scene in chapter 29

Part 1 Here
and Part 2 Here
Amisti also posted an awesome speed painting and a few different coloured versions
Here
Please also check out this wonderful picture of Zuko and Dumpling snuggling by
saturated-souls
Here

Next chapter
Tu’s struggles continue, Shen rediscovers a broken part of himself (it’s his dick) and
Sokka has an idea that might lead to some repercussions.
 Chapter 32
Chapter Summary

Actually, this may have been a really dumb idea.

Chapter Notes

Sorry this one took so long!

Warnings, violence, death, mild gore, sexual situations/thoughts/actions, some tried and
tested tropes, mention of child murder, a large dose of internalised homophobia and
victim blamey thoughts.

Many thanks to my beta burkesl17, who has managed to wrangle my dyslexic nonsense.
All mistakes are my own.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Tu darted under the strike of a blade. He had lost sight of Smellerbee in the smoke, although
he could hear her high-pitched whistle as she directed Longshot, presumably hidden in the
treeline.

This was a scenario he had been dreading. A real, horrible, fight. Soldiers, civilians, his new
friends. It was a confusing, screaming clash of bodies in the smoke. Tu didn’t want to die, he
didn’t want to lose anyone, but he also didn’t want to kill ever again, even enemies. Worse,
he was afraid in his panic he might lose control and bend. Then his death was assured from
either side.

He had lost sight of Jet, but he kept low and tried to make his way back towards the people
they had been trying to rescue. Soldiers had been rounding up refugees trying to make it to
the city. They had been marching them off the road and killing them, leaving the bodies to
rot. The freedom fighters had been coming across their corpses over the past few days. It had
been sickening. There were children among the dead, little children. There had been such a
look in Jet’s eyes the last time, no one had even suggested they didn’t track the soldiers to
take them out. And despite Tu’s fear, the memory of a boy no older than seven peppered with
arrows in his back had kept his mouth shut. It had been a shocking and awful sight that once
again cemented in Tu’s mind that there was something rotten in the army, and that meant it
was rotten to the top—all the way into the Fire Nation government. And if that belief made
Tu a traitor, so be it.

It had made him view what had happened to his father differently, too. Maybe the accusations
of treason hadn’t been false, maybe he was a traitor because he had tried to do what was
right, rather than what was ordered. The man Tu remembered would never have allowed
slaughter like this. It made Tu feel strangely comforted that what had happened to his family
might have been because of his father trying to protect people, not because of some stupid
political move on someone else’s part.

Ahead of him, Tu could see the huddle of civilians. Two of them had sticks in their hands,
one a short-bladed knife. Behind them an injured man lay on the ground and a pregnant
woman crouched with her arms wrapped around her belly. She looked afraid, but fierce. She
was clutching a rock in one hand. Her last hope if the others defence was overcome.

Without allowing himself time to think too hard, Tu dropped low behind the soldier
advancing on them and slashed at the back of his knee, causing the blast of fire he was about
to send to go wide as the man fell forward into the dirt with a shout.

“Everyone okay?” Tu asked as he reached them, slipping a little on the wet ground. He didn’t
know what to do. He kept thinking of that little boy, shot while running away, about how
these soldiers would shoot the pregnant woman in the back as she fled just as easily. He had
no good way of defending them, even with his long knife, it was sharp and could stab, but he
wasn’t skilled with it. So he did the only thing he could think of and positioned himself in
front of them, blade out. Perhaps he would get lucky and the soldier would just run himself
through on it. That would be great.

As some of the smoke cleared, he could see Jet caught up in fighting the leader, his hooked
swords spinning. He was incredible, powerful. It was different from the way the Blue Spirit
fought. Jet’s way was harsher, dirtier, somehow, but Tu thought equally good. It looked like a
dance fuelled by pure hate.

The soldier Tu had taken down was on his feet again. Tu should have killed him. He had
known that even before his knife had struck, but he just couldn’t.

And now the soldier was furious. Fire in his hands.

Tu didn’t want to burn.

He couldn’t bend. He thought he might prefer to die than to be rejected by his friends. Which
was stupid. It made him think of the 54th at East Lake, and through the panic a memory
formed of the Blue Spirit. He had only seen out of the corner of his eye as he ran, but he had
been thinking about it, about whether the vigilante could bend after all. If he was Fire, he had
good reason to hide it. Tu had seen the Blue Spirit slice through flame with his swords,
parting and dispersing the blast. Maybe to a non-bender it looked like something that was
possible. Tu knew it wasn’t.

But perhaps it gave him a chance.

He stopped leaching the heat out of himself and welcomed the warm rush of his inner fire
back into his body. It felt like a warm blanket after being out in the cold, like a feast after
weeks of famine.

He steadied himself, holding his knife like he knew what he was doing with it. And when the
blast came, he sliced it, like he was chopping fruit off a tree. At the same time, he pushed his
inner fire out and away to separate and dissipate the fire. It wasn’t even a kata, just movement
and desperation.

“Thank the spirits,” the woman with a stick said from somewhere behind him, and he felt a
rush of relief that they hadn’t realised what he had done. It was short-lived, though, as the
soldier got a look on his face. He knew, he knew what Tu was.

The soldier’s lips curled up into an enraged sneer. The look of disgust that seemed to be
reserved just for traitors falling over his features. He advanced, threatening despite his injured
leg.

One of Jet’s swords whistled out of the smoke and met the soldier’s face with a wet thunk, the
hook catching on his eye socket. Tu closed his own eyes, fighting down the urge to vomit.

When he opened them again, the man was dead, face a mess, with his remaining eye glazed
and open. His expression looked betrayed, and Tu felt an irrational stirring of guilt.

“Everyone okay?” Jet asked, voice strong and even. His chest was heaving with exertion, but
he looked very together, in control. His eyes were alight with victory, and it made Tu shiver.
There was something infectious in it, dangerous and tempting.

“Yes,” one of the men answered, his voice full of emotion. “Except for Dong.” He gestured to
the injured man. Tu didn’t think there would be much they could do for him.

He had to release his inner fire again, and he felt shaky, it almost physically hurt him to push
the warmth inside him back down and out though his feet. By the time Jet clapped a hand on
his shoulder and pulled him in for a hug, he was cool and clammy.

The embrace was a surprise. He had thought his uselessness in a fight would gain him scorn.

“You did good,” Jet said into Tu’s shorn hair. “You did good, and you’re okay, safe. Battle
takes people funny sometimes.”

Tu realised his breathing was erratic, close to panic. And he clung to Jet’s wiry, strong frame
for a moment. His friend patted him on the shoulder, his arms warm and secure.

“Why don’t you stay here and look out for these people while we search the dead?” Jet asked.

The idea of touching them, of stealing from them, was horrifying, so Tu nodded dumbly, very
grateful.

When he made his way towards them, the people they had rescued crowded around him and
he felt they were offering him comfort in his distress, rather than the other way around.
“Come,” the woman with a stick said, her hands warm but not hot on his cool skin. “I am Tai,
this is my brother, Than, and his wife, Ying. And our other companion is Bao.”

“Tu,” Tu said. He steeled himself. “Let’s see if we can make your other friend comfortable.”

He knelt with Tai beside the injured man, and Tai pulled up his bloody shirt. Tu felt dizzy
again. It was bad. Really bad. He didn’t think it would be possible to survive, even if they
had a healer. He didn’t know much, but he did know gut wounds were a nasty death. Long
and painful.

Jet knelt beside him, his presence electrifying and comforting by turns. “Tu, go help
Smellerbee scout somewhere safe to camp. Then a few of us will stay and deal with the
bodies, and the rest can set up.”

“Okay.”

“You alright, Tu?” Smellerbee asked as he joined her. “You look shocky.”

“I don’t know how to fight properly,” Tu admitted bitterly.

“You look like you did okay to me.” Her hand was comforting on his shoulder.

“I don’t like death,” he blurted. “Does that make me a coward? I should have killed that man,
but I couldn’t do it and he could have killed those people instead. My inaction would have
caused that.”

“His sword and flame would have caused that,” she said firmly. “You did what you could.
You protected them, you saved them.”

“Jet saved them.”

“You kept them alive long enough. That’s why we’re better together. Fighting doesn’t come
naturally to everyone. You just do what you can, when you can.” The blade was gleaming in
her hand. She was still too hyped up to sheathe it, or maybe just cautious out of bitter
experience.

Tu nodded, overcome with emotion. He loved these people. They were so good to him.

And they would kill him if they knew what he was. They didn’t allow for half measures when
it came to ashmakers.

The word sounded funny in his mind, like he could almost taste the soot on his tongue, and it
had the tang of guilt and shame.

When they got back to camp, it was raining, and Ying and Bao were crying. Jet was cleaning
his knife.

Dong’s shirt was covering his face, respectful in death. A soldier's tunic was blanketing the
awful wounds.
Tu stared at Jet, at his brisk motions, wiping the blood off the blade, and he couldn’t help
remembering the efficient way Jet had killed the hare marmot. The squeal it had made.

“We need to get rid of the corpses, get them away from the road.” Jet said. “These aren’t the
only soldiers in the area. If they are discovered, the troops will be after us.”

“We found a place to camp,” Tu said. “Down by the trees.”

Jet squinted up at the sky. The rain was starting to come down hard. “No, I think we need to
head to higher ground,” he said regretfully. “I don’t like the look of this weather, even if it
delays us, we need to be careful in these valleys at this time of year.”

No one argued, and it was a subdued group that packed up the items they had taken from the
soldiers, and began the long trudge to shelter.

………….

Shen was drowning. The dark water twisting into grasping tendrils and pulling him down,
tearing Suki out of his arms as his body was struck by unseen debris, the impact was dull and
sharp by turns and his lungs were bursting.

He woke with a gasp, pulling air into his body with horrible, wild breaths.

He was not in the water.

He was in a room, lit by a small slice of daylight from a high, narrow window. He closed his
eyes, trying to remember how the fuck he had gone from that to this. He tried to control his
breathing, but it was hard, like he was still on the edge of panic.

The bed felt strange. His body was shifting gently, like he was on water.

He was on a boat. He must have been rescued somehow, during the time he couldn’t
remember.

“Hello,” a woman’s voice said.

He opened his eyes again. There was a face staring down at him. The feelings of relief
disappeared as he focused on her features. Perhaps in her forties, tanned and weatherbeaten,
and very Fire Nation. He stared at her.

“Are you back with the living?” she asked. Her voice was friendly, her accent clipped. A
coarser version of Zuli’s.
He wasn’t sure if he was a prisoner or not. He wasn’t bound, but he didn’t think he could
have been mistaken for Fire. He ran his eyes over the rest of her; she was well muscled,
dressed in brown, Earth Kingdom clothes suitable for sailing and her black hair was cut neat
and short. A fairly fresh looking scar bisected her lip and ran up one cheek, which along with
her posture, indicated she had seen combat at some point. Overall, the whole package was
confusing.

“I am first mate Ayano,” she said. “We pulled you out the river.” Her lips curled up into a
smirk, making the scar tissue pull strangely. “The captain didn’t want to. He was still
complaining as he gave the order to have you fished out like a carp in a net.”

“Just me?” Shen croaked. His voice sounded like he had been gargling with the river,
including all the stones and logs. Maybe a couple of fish. If he had been captured by the Fire
Nation, he didn’t want to put Suki at any risk, but he needed to know if she had been left to
the whims of the river.

“We pulled the girl out, too,” Ayano said, and Shen felt a surge of relief, even if it meant Suki
had been captured, at least she was alive. Hopefully.

“She okay?”

“Yep. She’s been up and trying to get out of her room for the better part of the day.” Ayano
pointed a finger at him. “Even though it doesn’t look like you are in any state to try, do not
attempt to get out of your bed, or this cabin,” she warned him. “You are both confined below
decks until we reach port, or I say otherwise, understood?”

“Sure.” He didn’t know if he was lying or not, but she hadn’t been wrong about him not
being in any state to go anywhere. His body hurt. Really, really hurt, and his lungs still felt
tight.

“Good. I will ask the healer to attend you, now you are awake. And see about food. I will
also tell your girl you are alive and mostly functional. She has been worried.”

He nodded as much as he was able, and even that felt like a monumental effort.

She paused by the door and cocked an eyebrow at him. “What name shall I call you by?”

“Shen.”

“Good to meet you, Shen.”

She left him alone. He hadn’t heard a lock engage on the door, but he didn’t think he would
make it out of the bed to check. Maybe after food and more sleep. He spent a moment
assessing himself. He could move all his limbs, although they protested, but it was the ache
of abused muscles, rather than broken bones or serious injury.

He remembered the water and shuddered, but that was a past danger, to be pushed down and
relegated to nightmares. His current situation was far more pressing. It had sounded like they
were being taken to port—that could mean they were being handed over to the Fire Nation,
Ayano hadn’t specified which port. But then, why even bother keeping them alive? He was a
nobody, not even dressed in a uniform. And Suki was just a kid, wearing rough clothes that
were slightly too big for her. Hardly worth pulling out the river if all they were going to do
was make prisoners out of them.

The door opened and a large man pushed his way inside, carrying a pot of something that
smelled like soup. “I’m healer Peng,” he said gruffly. He looked Earth, with green eyes and a
country accent from the south. “You look like you got hit in the face with a brick.”

“I feel like I got hit everywhere with a brick. Several bricks,” Shen muttered. “Is the girl
okay?”

“She’s fine, a few bruises, a busted finger. Otherwise in good shape.” Peng approached and
pulled Shen’s blanket off him. Shen noted that he was not wearing any clothes.

While the healer poked at him and moved his arms around, he tried to puzzle out what was
happening. Who were these people? Ayano could be from the colonies, she could be part
Earth, but he didn’t think so. She had military bearing, and women didn’t fight in the Earth
army.

“Who are you?” he asked, too sore to keep thinking about it.

“Peng. Did you get hit in the head after all?”

“No. Well, probably. I mean what are you? This ship, not you specificity,” he added before
Peng could tell him he was a healer again.

Standing over Shen the man looked huge. Terrifyingly so. Although Peng was maybe fifteen
years his senior, right now, Shen probably couldn’t take a child in a fight. Being naked and
flat on his back was making him feel vulnerable, although he refused to show it and resisted
the strong urge to pull his blanket back over himself.

“You’ll live,” Peng said after his examination was complete. “Eat.”

“Are you going to ignore me if I ask again?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

Peng dragged the blanket over Shen’s body, for which he was grateful, and hauled him into a
sitting position. Shen was a big guy, he wasn’t used to being manhandled quite so easily. But
he forgot his irritation when the healer shoved a bowl of hot broth into his hands.

“Eat.”

Shen ate.
With food in him, and a little time to rest and calm down, he could think a bit more clearly.
He’d come to the conclusion these people were not army—or at least, not anymore. They
were probably pirates or smugglers. The type of folk who ignored racial divides for their own
gain, and to fight a common enemy: everyone who wasn’t them. Shen had run into their types
before, often deserters, bitter and jaded. And fiercely loyal to each other, sometimes full of
hate for their own people. Or at least, their own army. They had no issue with killing those
who threatened them. Just because they were not the Fire army, didn’t mean they were safe.

Shen was already feeling stronger. Rest and food had done wonders, so now he was bored out
of his mind. He was close to attempting an escape just to break free of the tedium.

The door opened, and Suki flew into the room, hurling herself at him. He caught her a little
haphazardly and squeezed her tight. Taking a moment to let go of the fear that they had been
lying and she hadn’t been rescued after all.

“Shen, I was so worried,” she said, right in his ear.

“I told you, girl,” Ayano said from where she was leaning by the door.

“And I told you, I won’t believe till I see it,” Suki shot back, but she didn’t sound angry,
more snarky. She was still hanging onto Shen, squeezing his sore ribs and shoulder, but he
didn’t let her go until she pushed back from him.

Then she smacked him right on his bruised chest. “You moron! You could have died!”

“We would have died if we had stayed.”

“Not the point.”

“It kind of is,” he said neutrally.

She stuck her tongue out, a devastating argument ending sally. Then she poked him.

“I heard your finger got hurt,” Shen said. “I was hoping it was a poking finger.”

“I have two poking fingers.” She held them up for inspection, then struck him in the ribs with
two short, punchy jabs.

“Ow,” Shen complained. “I hate you.” He caught one of the tiny digits in his hand and held it
lightly. Like Zuli, she seemed to enjoy contact she could write off as something else,
although unlike him, she was also happy to ask for a hug if she needed one.

“I find I hate most teenagers,” Ayano said, entering the room and sitting on the chair like she
had been invited. Although, Shen supposed it was her ship, and she could do as she pleased.

Shen grinned as Suki scowled at the woman. “Well, don’t spend too much time with me then,
I seem to attract them like flies to a corpse.”

“I don’t envy you that affliction.” Ayano looked full of sincere pity for him.
“Well, I hate the Fire Nation,” Suki said, pointedly.

Ayano grinned at her. She had a playful, sharp smile that made her hard features morph into
something attractive. “Don’t we all?”

“Where’s your accent from?” Shen asked to stop the brewing fight.

“East side of Caldera.”

Caldera? The capital? Fuck, he had been on the money when he thought Zuli’s father might
be someone important. The kid’s accent was sharper, and Shen thought more cultured. Rich
people's speech was definable wherever you came from. Kazuma had it too. Although his had
been a little longer in the vowel sounds, less crisp.

Fuck. Shen suddenly realised what it was that had made Kazuma react when he heard Zuli
speak. It hadn’t been his voice; it had been his accent. Not just Fire Nation, Caldera. It had
given him a specific place to investigate. They probably should have killed the captain when
they’d had the chance. It might be that they would never cross paths with him again, but if he
was continuing to hunt the Blue Spirit, he could cause serious problems for Zuli if he actually
caught up to him. Shen suspected he might have a shot, now he had information to work
with. He seemed tenacious to the point of stupidity. A bit like Zuli, really. Maybe they just
bred them like that in the Fire Nation.

The Earth Kingdom had a reputation for stubbornness, but it was that of an immovable
object, the Fire Nation seemed to have the version that was the unstoppable force.

Suki had a suspiciously blank look on her face. She had known the whole time where Zuli
was from. But Shen couldn’t begrudge her not saying. Sokka probably had something to do
with that, during their ‘catching up’ talks.

“I will leave you to discuss your situation,” Ayano said. “And fetch you something to eat.
The pair of you do seem to be hungry. I expect it of a big man like Shen, but a little thing like
you?” She grinned rudely at Suki, who glowered back up at her.

“I’m growing,” Suki said.

Ayano was still snickering as the door closed behind her.

“You’re really okay?” Shen asked. “They’ve treated you well?”

“Yeah, they’ve been accommodating, even when I escaped the first two times.” Suki sat on
the side of the bed, kicking off her shoes and curling her legs up. “It looks like a real mixed
bag of folk here. Earth, Fire, a few I really can’t tell.”

“Smugglers or pirates?”

“Smugglers I think.” Suki tapped a finger on her chin and it reminded Shen of Zuli so
intensely it sent a bolt of longing through him. He really missed the little shit. “We can’t trust
them,” Suki continued. “But I think we can probably trust them not to turn us over to the Fire
Nation, at least. The people I’ve met have seemed alright.”
“Have you learned anything about them?”

“I asked Ayano outright if she was military, and she said she was a deserter. I believe her.”

“Yeah. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be working so easy with Earth folk, I guess. How’d she react
to being asked so openly?” If she had left years ago, it wouldn’t be raw, but if it was recent...
Shen could still feel the sting of betrayal far worse than the lashes on his back.

Suki shrugged. “She was open about it. But there’s anger there. Rage. Whatever happened,
she hates them for it. I quite like her.”

“Really? Didn’t look like it.”

“Because we argue? You argue with Li all the time, and you like him.”

“That’s true enough.”

“What now, Shen? We’ve lost everything we’re not wearing.” She glanced at his bare chest.
“More, as apparently you are not wearing much.”

“Yes, thank you, Suki. I’m living in hope they bring me some clothes, or I will either have to
escape draped in a blanket or bare-arse naked.”

She giggled like he had hoped she would. But the situation was a bad one. He had some
emergency coins sewed into his boots and pants, assuming those had not been thrown out.
But everything else was at their camp. They had nothing.

He sighed. “Let’s see if we can get into port and then make a decision. I can get work.” He
still wasn’t sure what. There must be work at the docks, though? Loading crates or
something? He was a big guy, he could do that. He hoped.

Time passed. Although he wasn’t sure how much. He spent most of it asleep or eating. They
fell into a rhythm of Ayano scolding him for eating all their food without paying, and Suki
scolding her for treating guests so rudely. It was weirdly relaxing.

Ayano did eventually bring him some clothes, although she put them on the chair and then sat
on them, rather than handing them over.

“Nice of you to warm those up for me,” he said.

She nodded. “I’m a good person like that. How are you feeling?”

“Good, better.”

She put a cool hand to his forehead to check his temperature. The feel of her normal skin was
a relief. Shen had been holding on to some anxiety she could bend. Deserters or not,
firebenders made him very nervous. If he was honest, he had a real, almost debilitating fear
of them. It was easily masked on the battlefield when adrenaline was flowing, but off it the
fear could take him at times. He had seen and experienced too much for proximity to them to
be at all comfortable. Of course, there was now the exception of Zuli. Exposure to him had
helped, but it still made his skin crawl when he thought about it too much.

“How's Peng? He seems friendly. Very chatty,” Shen said to try to ease his sudden
discomfort.

Ayano withdrew her hand. “Oh, I know. You can never make that man shut up,” she said with
a straight face.

Shen assumed she was joking, but her expression was so grave he couldn’t actually tell.

Talk of Peng reminded him of his questions. “What’s your ship called?” He patted the metal
wall behind his head. It was Fire Nation, that was for sure, although he didn’t think it was
navy. He wondered if it was run with an engine or just sails. He hadn’t spent enough time on
boats to really know the difference. “Or are we not allowed to know?” he asked.

Ayano leaned back in her chair and widened her eyes in faux innocence. “Whatever do you
mean? We’re a legitimate business. Shen.” She grinned, sharp in the candlelight. “It’s The
Shēngcún.”

“The survivor? There’s a story there, I take it?” Shen asked.

“Not a pleasant one,” she said, her tone indicating she had no intention of elaborating.
“Speaking of things that tell a tale. Are you going to tell me about those lashes on your back?
Everything about you screams military, except your hair. So I assume you and the army
have... parted ways?”

“Yeah.” Shen tried to strangle down the flood of emotion. “Yeah, I have parted ways with the
army. The hair was my own doing, though. I’ve kept it short for years.”

“For shame?”

“For grief.”

She nodded like she understood. Perhaps she did. “And the lashes?”

“Had a difference of opinion with my commanding officers.”

“Why?” she asked. He quite enjoyed how blunt she was. It reminded him of Zuli. The kid
was on his mind a lot, it seemed.

He shrugged. His tongue felt sticky, like it was coated in tar, but he was going to have to get
used to talking about it. “My men and I were sent into a trap. Some of us, myself included,
were captured. The rest died. There was no need for it, the order was a punishment for
speaking out against a plan I disagreed with. After I... escaped. I went back and rescued the
rest of the men from captivity, which went against orders.” He shrugged again, unable to
convey the emotion behind all of that.
Both of her eyebrows had climbed up into her hairline. “From East Lake?”

He had not realised that story would have spread. Still, hardly worth pretending at this point.
“Yeah. I’m surprised you’ve heard.”

“Everyone has heard. Freeing prisoners? Blowing up the prison? It was a big deal. Lots of
rumours.” She looked sharp and intent, like a fox. An image that put him in mind of Kazuma.
“I had heard the Blue Spirit was involved.”

Shen sighed internally. Was there no one not after that kid’s hide? He supposed the Blue
Spirit was a symbol to a lot of people, and that caused both sides to be very interested in his
actions.

“Just a rumour,” he said. “People have added him to everything that happens. Even Lao Fort
being raided again.”

“I thought that one sounded credible, no? He went after Tsing a lot, I understand.”

“No. I was there for that, too. Just a rumour. Last one that I have heard of that has the ring of
truth is Pohuai. And that was months ago.”

Ayano looked disappointed, but not surprised. She heaved out a sigh. “I do not think there
will be any more. Many rumours say he was taken or killed after Pohuai.”

Shen nodded. “Someone else will pick it up. Many someones, probably.”

Ayano smiled, her good mood returning. “That’s true. I think I would give it a good shot,
don’t you?” She raised an arm and flexed her muscles. They were very impressive.

“You’re too tall,” Shen said, before realising that might be more information than he should
know. “Or so I’m told,” he added. But that damn eyebrow had gone up again, although she
didn’t comment.

“So now that you are free of the shackles of the army, what are you planning to do with
yourself?” she asked, leaning back and looking at him with a certain amount of something
that Shen tentatively labelled appreciative interest. “I would strongly advise against the city.
Things are going to get ugly.”

“I have to. I have business there that can’t wait.”

She shrugged. “Your funeral. Although if you change your mind and you and the girl want to
sign up, I think I could persuade the captain. You look like a strong guy.” Yeah, she was
definitely eyeing his arms with an appreciation that made him smirk and flex his own
muscles, just a little. He had not been imagining those glances, which was irrationally
pleasing. He was fairly sure he looked like shit, but it did make him feel a bit better about
himself. And he would take what he could get when it came to self-esteem at the moment.

“It’s a good offer,” he said somewhat regretfully. “I… I would if I could. But I have someone
I need to find. They’ll be in the city.” He hoped. “I appreciate the offer, though.”
She gave him another sly smirk, this one slightly filthy. “Well, in a way, that works for me,”
she said.

“Should I be insulted by that?”

She grinned, light eyes gleaming orange in the torchlight. “I don’t fuck people I work with.
Hard rule.”

“Oh,” Shen said. Well, that was direct. He had anticipated some flirting while he agonised
over whether he should sleep with the enemy. And then he would indulge in some anger at
the army, before he inevitably decided to go for it, because he had no self control when it
came to bad personal choices. This cut down a lot of the angsting. He grinned back. “I’m not
exactly up too much,” he said.

She snorted. “Not yet. But I have faith in myself to deal with the problem at hand. So to
speak.”

He laughed, surprised at how genuine it was, and felt his spirits lift a little.

“Shen!” Suki yelled as she banged on the door, her voice full of irritation.

Ayano was sitting in the chair again, as the bed was barely big enough to fit just him and
there was no chance for the two of them to relax in it. She was naked, grinning and sipping
his cold tea.

“I’ll be out in a bit,” Shen called. Enjoying the way the candlelight shone on Ayano’s hard,
muscled body. She had a lot of scars. Combat, mostly, he thought. She had spent much of her
life soldiering, same as him.

“How long?” Suki demanded. “It’s dinnertime. I've been cooking.”

“He’ll be out in ten minutes,” Ayano called.

There was a very loaded silence for a few moments. “I’m telling Guo,” Suki said, with
friendly disgust.

“You do that,” Shen said. His own mood was feeling rather buoyant, and he could put up with
a little teasing.

“Who’s Guo?” Ayano asked.

“My lieutenant, or he was, before. He’s known me since I was a scrawny teenager. Likes to
keep a tally of all my dubious sexual decisions, of which there have been a few.” Shen’s heart
clenched thinking about the people he had left behind. He was getting sick of that feeling and
wished he could put it aside.
“Well, let’s add another. Enough of the sad face.” Ayano leant forward and slapped him on
the knee. “Ten minutes?”

“Ten?” Shen said, not sure if he should be offended or not. That seemed to be a frequent
feeling with Ayano.

She smiled in a way that made his dick twitch with interest. “We can try for five, if you like?”

“Think a lot of yourself, don’t you?”

She rose from the chair and tugged the blanket off him, straddling his thighs with her own. “I
do. I like to think myself an expert in fucking, with all the practice I’ve had.”

“Oh, hey, me too.” He grinned up at her. “I still think I can manage more than ten minutes,
though.”

“Would you like to bet on it?” she purred at him, looking like the personification of evil.

“Yeah, I’ll take that bet.”

He had won, but only barely.

Shen was in a good mood. He had been allowed on deck, and the feel of the breeze was a
relief after the stifling cabin, even if it was raining. He found the cool water on his skin
pleasant. He felt a bit more alive than he had, more present. Clearly sex had helped his mood.
His dick had been pretty much broken since Ba Sing Se. To the point that he had given up
trying, unable to cope with the repeated humiliation. But it seemed to have fixed itself over
the intervening years, even with all the recent unpleasantness, and he was very proud of it.

Ayano was exactly what he looked for in a woman; in control, playful and very non-
exclusive. No risk of romantic feelings. Just the possibility of friendship and a really good
lay.

“You have a really stupid look on your face,” Suki said from where she was using his body as
a shield against the spitting rain and spray. “You know she’s Fire, right? We discussed that,
did you forget?”

Bloody Suki. “Yes, I haven’t forgotten. She is a deserter, though.” Like that made a
difference. It still wasn’t justifiable, at least, not if he had still been in the army. But he
wasn’t. He was a deserter, too. So fuck it. Literally and figuratively.

“Yeah, they all are. Either that or just people pushed to the edge,” Suki said, allowing the
subject change. “Have you seen the Captain?”

“Nope. I figured he’s keeping a low profile. Another thing that works to convince me of their
legitimacy.”
“Yeah. The cook used to be in the Earth army. He gets seasick.” Suki chuckled. “Imagine
becoming a pirate, a cook no less, when you puke on the water.”

“He got over it, I hope?” The idea of a nauseated cook was not a great one.

“Yeah, he’s fine now. Scary man, very shouty. Fed me all the best bits of everything, because
I’m wonderful.”

“You’re something alright,” Shen smiled at her and pulled her into a one-armed hug,
conveniently making sure her new position got her a face full of sea spray. He would
probably suffer for it, but her shriek was so worth it.

The free port, when they finally reached it, was a heaving, bustling mass of humanity. In
other circumstances, Shen would have been looking forward to disembarking and seeing
what it had to offer. But right now, it looked intimidating. How were they going to find
lodgings with all these people? Prices were bound to be high. They were going to have to
leave the town and find a hedge to sleep under, because he was fairly sure if they tried to
catch a nap in any of the narrow streets, they would wake up without their shoes.

“Last chance?” Ayano said as they docked and prepared to leave the Shēngcún.

“I can’t tell you how tempting that is,” Shen said honestly. “But I can’t.”

“Well, until we meet again, then.” Ayano gave him a pat on the butt that was not particularity
subtle. And then Shen had to endure the crew laughing at him, as he waited for Suki to stop
hugging the cook and join him to leave.

Finally, they stepped off the boat. Shen turned and waved again. He got a filthy leer from
Ayano and a few friendly hoots from the crew before they were swallowed up by the hustle
of the docks.

“Ah, the joys of screwing the enemy,” Suki said with a grin. She grabbed hold of Shen’s arm
to avoid getting separated in the crowd.

“I don’t want to talk about this with you, you’re twelve.”

“We’ve had this age discussion before, haven’t we? And mocking you is one of my true joys
in life.”

And it helped keep her mind off their many anxieties, he suspected. “I’m so happy to be of
use to you.”

She elbowed him in an affable fashion. “Were you tempted to stay?”

“Only for the possibility of work.” Shen steered them away from the docks and towards what
he hoped was the centre of town.
“It wasn’t true love then?”

“Hardly. She was kind of perfect, though. She made it very clear it was sex only, no romance
or other nonsense.” Actually, she had told him that although she would be up for another
tumble if they happened to cross paths again, she had a lover in every port and he shouldn’t
feel special. He had a feeling this might be the start of a beautiful friendship, or would be if
the war didn’t get in the way.

“But you would do it again?”

“Damn right I would. The woman knows what she wants. I respect that.” He grinned. “Now,
let’s never speak of this again.”

Suki’s face was pure mischief, and Shen sighed internally. It was his lot to be cursed with an
eternally mockable sex life. But to be honest, he was still a little giddy from the fact he now
had one to be mocked.

“Hmmm,” Suki said. “No. This, along with the Captain Kazuma thing, are both on my list of
things to make fun of mercilessly and forever.”

“I’m so glad that list exists. Anyway, the Kazuma thing was desperation, not lust.”

“Now that would have been the ultimate in bad decisions! Fucking a firebender.” She gave a
dramatic little shudder and waggled her eyebrows like she couldn’t decide if she was being
horrified or salacious.

“Please don’t say fucking, it makes me uncomfortable,” Shen whined, in his most whingey
voice. He thought if they headed to the poorer side of town, they might find something
affordable for the night, and then tomorrow maybe he could find work to help pay for the
following night. But everything here looked rundown and full to the brim with people.

Suki snorted, elbowing him hard right in one of his healing bruises. He rubbed it and scowled
at her. “It would top the list, right?” Suki continued relentlessly. “The bad choice one, not the
mocking one. Although, actually, I think maybe it would top both.”

“Yeah, probably,” Shen admitted. He didn’t want to give her any more ammunition by
mentioning any of the other disasters that might be vying for first place.

“Would it have broken your record?” she asked, clearly digging for dirt.

“You are like a fox-snake with a rat. It wouldn’t have counted.” Perhaps they could rent a
space in a stable? Or offer some yard work in exchange for a bed?

“Why?” Suki asked, curiously. “It sounds like something that should very much count.”

“Because it would have been for the good of the Earth Kingdom, not a personal decision.”

“Fucking the Fire Nation for the good of the Earth Kingdom? You’re killing me, Shen.”

“Oh, shut up, and stop saying dirty words.”

“Fuuucking...” she drew out the word ridiculously.

“Shut up.” But he was grinning, and she seemed pleased. He realised all the teasing was for
his benefit, as well as her own, to lift their spirits. It made him feel warm in spite of his
worries, and he drew her a little closer as they walked.

…………….

“You could at least pretend to help!” Zuko shouted, at full impressive lung capacity.

Sokka winced slightly, as it was quite close to his ear and was deafening even at fifty paces.
The rain was coming down hard, and it had become obvious rather quickly that the hole in
the tent was now too big to really prevent water ingress. A lot of water ingress.

Warm and dry in her own tent, Katara just smirked. Her response seemed to be doing the
trick in inducing a temper tantrum, and Zuko was starting to steam. The heat wasn’t doing
much to stop him from being wet, though. He looked like a tall, gangly, drowned rat. Sokka
suspected he looked like a shorter version of the same.

“Stop yelling at my sister and help,” Sokka grouched at him. Unlike Zuko, he wasn’t rage
heating himself and his clothes were cold and uncomfortable.

“Well she could,” Zuko snapped.

“You have had more than enough time to fix it, and if you needed help sewing it, then you
could have just asked!” Katara was apparently unable to just be smug, she had to stir the pot.

“I’m asking now!”

“It’s raining now, Zuko. Why should I get wet because the pair of you can’t prioritise
things?” Katara elbowed Aang lightly. He was also notably warm and dry. “What’s that
saying Uncle liked to use?” she asked.

“He’s my uncle, not yours!”

Katara ignored Zuko with the sort of serenity you would expect from a spirit of temperance.
“You reap what you sow,” she said with enough satisfaction that Sokka really wanted to
strangle her, but as he was currently the only thing stopping a gallon of sky water making
itself at home in their bed, he was forced to restrain himself. He even held back on the
temptation of the obvious pun.

Aang nodded sagely. He clearly had no fear of either Sokka or Zuko and was enjoying their
pain and discomfort like the terrible little person that he was.
Sokka glared at him, but they were not going to get any warmer fighting. “Sew, Zuko,” he
said, spitting rainwater out of his mouth.

Zuko stabbed the needle into the canvas, very nearly impaling Sokka’s hand. It turned out
sewing up a tent when you had already put it up was quite hard, and one of them needed to
hold the flaps of cloth closed with some tension. Really, Sokka should be wielding the needle
and Zuko holding. Both because of his superior strength and because of the slight ripping
noises that seemed to accompany his friend attempting a stitch.

“Hurry up, boys,” Toph said happily, from her own stone cocoon. “You’ll get wet.”

“I’m going to kill her,” Zuko said.

“You can try. But let me tell you, she is a tough little nut to crack.” Sokka was still smarting
after the third failed attempt by him and Aang to prank her. Impossible monster child.

“Okay, I’m done,” Zuko said after what felt like an age. Sokka’s fingers were aching from
holding the tent in the slippery wet and cold. He let go carefully, braced for the sound of
tearing. It held, and he moved around to get a look.

Zuko’s stitches were… interesting. You could see where he had improved over the very, very
long hour they had been attempting this. The first ones were wide and haphazard, with an air
of desperation about them. The later ones were neater, smaller and more even, but felt full of
rage. Could a sewing stitch look angry? Sokka thought Zuko had done a good job expressing
his feelings in his art.

He clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Good work! You make a fine seamstress.” That got
the expected grumpy scowl and Sokka grinned at him, before turning back to survey the tent.
Its form had become a little wonky from pulling the cloth tight enough to sew, but he thought
it gave it a jaunty look. To be honest, it could look like a fresh turd and he’d be happy as long
as it kept the rain out.

“Let’s dry off,” Zuko said, ducking inside. Sokka joined him, getting a face full of cleanish
shirt. “Dump your wet things outside. I’ll dry them tomorrow.” Zuko was already out of his
own and pulling on the clothes he slept in.

The very best thing about sharing a bed with a firebender was moments like this. When he
was damp and chilled and he got to snuggle up with all the warmth.

Despite his momentary contentment, there was a tension in the air that Sokka assumed was
because Zuko was trying to either think of a subtle way to bring up his questions again, or
because he was psyching himself up for it.

“Your fantasies,” Zuko said. Blunt and only vaguely touching on sense.

In spite of his lingering discomfort, Sokka grinned. “Are mine,” he said. This was awkward,
but he had been thinking about it, and he was ready for him this time. He turned his head so
he could see his friend’s furrowed brow and disappointed pout. “Don’t get me wrong, Zu, the
idea of sharing this stuff is kind of...” Hot, he wanted to say, but didn’t think it was
appropriate. “Appealing. Like, it’s a bonding thing, right? But that’s not what you want from
me, and I don’t think this is the best way to help.”

Zuko sat up and stared at him miserably.

“You just need a new frame of reference,” Sokka explained, waving a hand like that would
illustrate what he meant. “So your mind doesn’t always go to the bad things.” This seemed
like a good plan to Sokka. Although he wasn’t sure if it would work, he thought it was worth
a try.

Zuko looked distinctly less enthused. “Where am I going to find a new frame of reference?”
he asked sourly.

Sokka resisted pointing out that Suki had been the obvious choice, as it was clear that Zuko
wasn’t happy with that option. Although now he thought about it, that made sense. He
probably didn’t want to associate her with the bad things either.

“I’m not going to a prostitute,” Zuko said sternly.

“A what now?” Sokka laughed a little incredulously. “Where would we find one out here?”
They would in the city, though. It was actually an idea with merit, or would have been if
Zuko hadn’t been making that face he was making. Which was putting it firmly into the no
category.

“I was thinking I could do it,” Sokka said, with a shrug. “I’m not volunteering my sister. That
would be a bloodbath, and the other two are babies.”

“The Avatar is not a baby,” Zuko said faintly, his eyes a little wide. “Not all babies are bald.”
He looked like maybe his brain had stopped working.

“That’s not… Do you want to make out with the Avatar?” Sokka asked.

“No!” Zuko said, loud enough that Sokka thought it might have blown some of the loose hair
out of his face. Zuko clapped a hand over his mouth, apparently shocked by his own volume.

Sokka worked hard to suppress his smile. “So that leaves me. Your buddy, your bestie.” He
fluttered his eyelashes.

He wasn’t exactly sure what reaction he was expecting, curiosity, gratitude, indigent huffing,
telling him he was a weirdo and laughing it off. But Zuko just looked thrown, conflicted, and
kind of afraid. And that hadn’t been what Sokka was going for at all. It made him realise,
perhaps a bit late in the day, that this might have been a very loaded thing to suggest. That in
doing so, he might have made one of Zuko’s very few safe people seem less safe.

Actually, this may have been a really dumb idea.

“I didn’t mean it had to mean anything,” he tried. And now he was talking like Zuko, who
was still staring at him with a very confused look on his face. Like the information was just
not going in. “It was a silly idea. Just forget it, okay?”
Zuko blinked a couple of times. “You? Why would you suggest that?” he sounded
bewildered.

“Why not?” Sokka tried to make himself sound less defensive. “Look, I didn’t mean to … I
just thought it might help. I still think my core idea stands, actually.” He shrugged, trying to
play it down. “When we get to the city, we can find you a girl. Unless you're saving yourself
for Suki, which is fair enough. Maybe...”

“That isn’t... It’s...”. Zuko was still struggling. “Aren’t worried about people knowing that
you offered something like that?” he managed at last.

“No? I mean, firstly, who would know? It’s just us in here. And secondly, who cares? Are you
worried about that?”

This was not something he had considered either, that there might be… cultural difficulties?
He wasn’t really sure where Zuko or his people stood on these things. He was very prudish
about some sex stuff and girls, although not with being naked in front of all and sundry. In
fact, Sokka clearly had not considered anything, and this whole idea was Zuko levels of
terrible and not well thought through. Sokka was already feeling considerable regret.

Zuko was just blinking at him with that same intense expression. It was a thinking face, but
also a confused and distressed one. Sokka wasn’t sure what he needed to do to make it better.
“Everything we say here is like the blanket fort,” he said.

“What?”

“You remember the blanket fort and the hugging, right? What happens in the blanket fort
stays in the blanket fort. This tent is the fort.” He pointed to each of the four corners and the
wonky ceiling, as though that might help make it more of a solid concept.

Zuko took another few minutes to process that and work around whatever was going on in his
head. He swallowed, his throat bobbing. His right check was flushed a rosy pink and his eyes
were intent, thinking hard.

“Okay,” he said at last.

Sokka had kind of been hoping he would tell him to fuck off after all, so they could put this
awkward shit behind them and Sokka could learn never to voice stupid ideas ever again. But
of course, no, Zuko had to do the thing that was most difficult—even if it was Sokka’s fault
they were in this situation.

Still, there was nothing to do but try to brazen it out. It was just kissing, and that didn’t bother
Sokka in the slightest. It might even be fun, and be like practice for him, too. As much as he
was pretending to be worldly. He really wasn’t. Ninety percent of his knowledge of kissing
was from reading or was just bullshit. But sounding confident was half the battle, and he was
pretty sure Zuko knew less than he did.

Zuko was looking like he might pass out. He was so tense he was practically vibrating, his
fingers twisting in his lap. He didn’t actually look like he wanted to do this, and the whole
point was for his benefit. Sokka was just formulating the right thing to say, to just stop the
nonsense before it got any worse, when Zuko lunged at him. Sokka actually saw the moment
his friend made a decision, a slight shift in his eyes, a firming of the muscles in his jaw.
Being Zuko, as soon as he made up his mind he acted on it, and Sokka could do nothing
against the onslaught.

And it was an onslaught. Zuko practically knocked him over, misjudged the distance and
speed of impact, knocking their teeth together painfully before ramming his tongue into
Sokka’s mouth.

It felt like a fight, like he was trying to stab Sokka’s tonsils to death. After a moment of
pained surprise. Sokka managed to get a hand on his face and push him back a bit. Zuko was
breathing and shaking like he was in a battle. Sokka suspected that somewhere in his own
mind, he was.

“What was that?” Sokka gasped. Okay, so if that was his best effort, Sokka was doing Suki
one serious favour in curbing this before she had to deal with it.

Of course, Zhao was currently Zuko’s only experience, and if you put that together with
Zuko’s usual response to things that challenged or frightened him, it wasn’t surprising he had
been aggressive. But still, spirits, there was a lot of work to be done here. “Let me show
you?” he asked.

Zuko nodded jerkily and Sokka pulled him a little more upright, before cupping his jaw to
bring him closer. The skin under his fingers was hot to the touch, and Zuko still had that same
flush to his cheek. Even his unburnt ear was red.

His lips felt tense under Sokka’s, hard and unyielding. He stroked a thumb over Zuko’s skin,
keeping the pressure light. Zuko shuddered slightly, and relaxed, just enough for his lips to
become pliable, softening slightly as he breathed out a shaky breath into Sokka’s mouth.

The thing was, despite how much Zuko tended to be hard on himself about not being good at
things, or having to work hard at stuff he thought should be easy for him, he was undoubtedly
a quick learner. He lifted his hand to mirror Sokka’s, his fingers calloused and rough against
Sokka’s skin. This was much better. The feel of Zuko’s strong, deadly hands on his jaw was
making Sokka feel a little warm in his middle, and it might have been straying into territory
that could be crossing some lines. But then, he wasn’t the only one getting into it. Zuko’s
other hand that had been hovering awkwardly out to the side, suddenly shot forward and
tangled in Sokka’s hair, the suddenness of it made him squeak, but Zuko ignored him and
tugged him down onto their bedroll, with Sokka mostly on top of him. Thankfully, they were
laying sideways to each other, so there wasn’t full body contact, because this had become
very intimate very fast. Sokka was still in control, though. He would let it go on for a few
more moments, then his job would be done.

A simple plan, well executed. After a bit of a bumpy start.

Except, Zuko opened his mouth under Sokka’s in obvious invitation, and like a fool, Sokka
deepened the kiss with a bit of a thrill. Kissing with tongue had been on his to do list forever.
The sensation was really good, strange, exciting. It was hot in both senses of the word, but
then Zuko made a noise; a soft, mewling, whining noise, needy and wanting and Sokka was
suddenly very aware how much he was dominating the kiss, of the way they were laying, of
the wet slide of their mouths. A rush of arousal shot through him so intensely he felt like he
could see it in his mind’s eye. He felt like his body was lighting up the way a summer storm
lit the sky in flashes and sparks.

He was lost to it for a moment. It felt so good to feel something like that with a warm body
under him. And Zuko was actually moaning into his mouth and it was making Sokka feel a
bit crazy because it was Zuko, who was freakishly strong, and aggressive, and determined
and powerful in so many ways, and he was holding onto Sokka’s hair and being turned into
mush by kisses. That was a wild, giddy thought. His body was on fire with it.

Then, of course, he had to ruin it for himself. It was the stray thought that Zuko was
submitting to him, the realisation that was turning him on that did it. That was what Zhao had
wanted from him.

It was like being doused with cold water, and he drew back, pushing himself up on his arms
and staring down at his friend’s flushed face. Spirits, he had no idea how long they had been
kissing for, it could have been moments, or hours.

Zuko’s cheek was still pink, his eyes slightly glassy and his lips wet. He looked beautiful. It
was another weirdly shocking thought. He looked the same as he had this morning, but there
was something so wanting in his face, open and vulnerable that it sent shivers up Sokka’s
spine again. He had to drag his eyes away from his friend’s lips and back to meet his gaze.
And then he kind of wished he hadn’t. Zuko was looking at Sokka with a not unfamiliar
expression, except now with context, Sokka could actually see what it was, what it meant.
How had he missed that?

It was want and longing, and the sort of puppy love Sokka was fairly sure had been all over
his face every time he had looked at Yue.

How had he missed it? And what the fuck was he going to do? He could feel panic starting to
crawl over his skin like ants.

Because there are two major issues here. One: What was he going to do about the really
obvious feelings that were written on Zuko’s face? It was so fucking obvious suddenly, and
oh shit, everyone else knew. Even Suki knew.

A lot of things suddenly made sense.

But putting that aside, problem number two: What was he going to do about the fact he’d
become impossibly hard kissing his best friend? The memory of that was still arousing, but
also just so messed up, and he couldn’t fucking cope with this.

He and Zuko were still staring at each other. There was something kind of resigned sliding on
to Zuko’s face. Not unhappy exactly, just a bit sad and accepting. Perhaps if they could just
pretend it hadn’t happened, things could go back to normal without any further misery? It
must be possible on some level, surely?
Zuko took a moment, shutting his eyes and trying to get his breathing under control. Sokka
looked at him, unable to stop. He wished he had wiped the spit off his mouth, it was shiny
and distracting. Sokka desperately wanted to kiss him again, and he wished he had never
suggested this in the first place. And yet, he wanted to go back to that perfect moment when
Zuko made that soft desperate noise and opened his mouth for Sokka’s tongue and Sokka had
felt that perfect rush of arousal like the fiercest of lightning storms. Before his brain got in the
way.

Even thinking about it was making him hard. And that was making him panic. How long had
this been going on without him realising? Why had reacted like that? He had appreciated the
way Zuko looked before, mostly with some level of jealousy over his muscles and long legs,
but he hadn’t felt desire. He did find guys attractive. Jet had been hot until he’d opened his
mouth. But Zuko was Zuko, warm and safe and impossible and annoying. So yeah, Sokka
supposed he thought he was good looking. He had often thought that, but it just hadn’t really
fallen into place.

Well, now it had, and now his brain was going to explode. Spirts, he was dumb, Toph was
right. And bloody Suki. Fuck. Now he understood why she had been so entertained.

“There is no you and Suki is there?” he asked. Although he supposed there could be. No
reason a boy couldn’t be into both. But Suki’s epic levels of amusement suggested not.

Zuko’s eyes were bright, even in the dim light. “No,” he said. “I just wanted to be normal. So
I went with it.”

Sokka sighed, and resisted the urge to pull him in for a hug, he wasn’t quite sure he and his
suddenly very excitable penis were quite ready for that yet. “What happened doesn’t make
you abnormal, Zu, it makes them the freaks. The dead freak in Ro’s case.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Zuko looked frustrated and miserable again. He sat up and hugged
his knees, shoulders hunched. “We shouldn’t have done that,” he said, with his face screwed
up. “But I’m also glad we did. I don’t know what I thought would happen. It’s wrong. But it
didn’t feel wrong and I don’t understand why!” He looked at Sokka with wide and outraged
eyes, like he was going to really let rip with the shouting, although he kept his volume at only
mildly loud. “And I don’t understand why it’s wrong at all! No one explained that to me!” He
took a few angry looking breaths. “Just that it was weak and bad, but I don’t feel weak or
bad. It didn’t feel wrong. What does that mean, Sokka?”

Sokka had to admit he didn’t have the foggiest idea what Zuko was talking about, although it
was clearly very important to him. Sokka was usually very good at talking, but his words
seemed to have disappeared on him. Although they didn’t seem to be needed, as Zuko was
still speaking without his input.

“I’ve always known I couldn’t have what I wanted. That I would have to sacrifice parts of
myself to fit in, to be who I needed to be, who I had to be. I accepted that. It felt like a test.
Like something I had to overcome, just like everything else.”

“What sort of test?” Sokka asked. He was still pretty baffled. He wasn’t sure if he was
missing context, or horny panic had just stolen the ability to think right out of his head.
“I thought the boat was punishment because I didn’t push it down far enough, because I
couldn’t… because I was still sick, you know?”

Sokka did not know. But what he did know, was that whatever Zuko was talking about, that
was one seriously fucked up point of view to have about what had happened to him. Had he
really been viewing it as some sort of cosmic punishment? For being ‘sick’? Try as he might,
Sokka couldn’t get himself together enough to figure out what he was talking about, but he
thought what Zuko needed right now was to get whatever this was out of himself. It was
tumbling free in mostly nonsensical sentences, but it was far better than it festering in his
head.

And of course, Sokka had nothing in his own at the moment. His guts were squirming with
anxiety and an undercurrent of nagging arousal every time he allowed himself to think back
to that moment.

No, that wasn’t true. He had plenty in his head. Things like the fact that perhaps, just between
him and himself, he could admit that maybe there was an attraction that he had been trying to
convince himself was something else, like envy or admiration. He did maybe stare at Zuko’s
muscles a little too much, and find the blushing and the way his hair was starting to flop very
charming. Cute, even.

And he could also admit that aside from family, he had never loved someone so hard and so
intensely. He still wasn’t quite sure how it had happened, but it had. The way he felt about
Zuko was confusing, but the power of it wasn’t subtle or conflicted. It was what it was.

Except, maybe it was actually something else? This was maddening.

“When we get to Ba Sing Se, I want to stay with you. I want... I don’t know if I can fight
against my people. But I want to protect you. All of you. Whatever it takes,” Zuko said. And
that brought Sokka crashing out of his spiral of self absorbed panic.

The words were right, everything he wanted to hear. Except, he wasn’t sure if it actually was.
If it was for the right reasons. That look on Zuko’s face indicated he might be saying this
because of his feelings for Sokka, not because it was the right thing to do.

But despite his concern, Sokka was hardly going to say no. “Thanks, buddy,” he managed.
“I’m glad.” And he was. Because the idea of parting ways when they got to the city was
inconceivable.

Zuko nodded jerkily, looking miserable, and Sokka gave in to his urge and pulled him in for a
hug. Laying back on their bedroll and holding his friend close. Zuko let out a sigh, his
shoulders relaxing, and Sokka held him a little tighter. The sigh had sounded like relief.
Sokka could feel it too, that although there had been some pretty serious revelations, they had
managed not to fuck things up between them.

Sokka stroked his fingers through Zuko’s thick hair, feeling the tension beginning to leave his
body. There was a lot to unpack. Not just about the kissing, but also what Zuko had revealed
about his view of himself. About being ‘sick’ and about being punished for it. Sokka was
going to have to think about that when he was less full of other things, and find a way to
 tackle it. But for now, they could just sleep, maybe. And tomorrow, for Zuko, perhaps things
would go back to how they had been, despite the kiss, nothing much had changed.

But not for Sokka. For him, everything had changed. A door had been opened that he didn’t
think he was going to be able to shut, and he had no idea what to do about it.

Chapter End Notes

Haha. Sorry.

Some amazing art shared this month! Please check it out and give them some love!

chaichai-draws did two amazing pieces Here and Here

And adriancatrin did this wonderful piece Here

wylinka produced this beautiful illustration of what could have happened, if it hadn't
been the mess in this chapter instead lol Here

And last but not least, amisti produced both a beautiful piece Here and hilarious one
Here.

Thank you all so much for sharing and letting me post <3

Next chapter
Katara is at her wits end and Sokka is distracted from his Zuko related panic by
panicking about Zuko in an entirely different capacity. Meanwhile, Azula makes some
important choices and goes on a fun undercover field trip/rescue mission with Kazuma
(Who has some concerns about a lot of things)
 Chapter 33
Chapter Summary

“How could you not know?”

Chapter Notes

Warnings: Lots of talking about feelings. Internalised homophobia. Rude terms for sex
workers. Blood.

Many thanks to my beta burkesl17, who has managed to wrangle my dyslexic nonsense.
All mistakes are my own.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Katara lit the fire with spark rocks, seeing as their resident firebender seemed to be having a
lie in. Although it was strange neither of the boys had left the tent. It was two hours past
sunup and normally they would be awake at dawn, practising with their swords. Sokka had
never been an early riser, and it hurt her to think this change might have been from the
horrible things they had experienced. Or that he had just started to grow up a little, and she
hadn’t been there to witness it, the way she had been for all his other milestones, all of his
successes and failures. Of course, she might be over thinking it. It was obvious that while
Sokka was physically up and moving under his own power most mornings; he was also
mostly still asleep, so perhaps the early riser was Zuko and he just dragged her brother with
him.

With that in mind, sleeping in seemed out of character for Zuko and it worried her a little. But
not enough to venture into their tent herself, that way lay being set on fire. Instead, she busied
herself with her own morning chores, starting breakfast and checking their supplies. They
were only a few days out from the city now, she could see the great walls as a glimmer in the
distance. The bad weather was slowing them down a little, but there was a feeling of relief
just to have their goal in sight.

They were running low on food again. Having the two extra mouths to feed was a strain, and
both the boys ate a lot. They really needed some meat to bolster what they had, so the
remaining grains and the sad looking dried dumpling weed could go to Aang. It would have
to wait, however, as Sokka was still sleeping and Toph looked like she’d had a restless night.
Although it was hard to really tell, the girl always looked like she had been dragged through a
bush backwards in the morning.
“If I wake my brother up, could you go hunting with him?” Katara asked. Toph was a pain,
but her rather unconventional method of catching them food was unsurpassed. And with
Sokka’s skills in tracking, she should be able to get something for the pot.

“Yeah,” Toph said, scratching at her huge, messy avalanche of hair. “He’s awake, anyway.
Feels like he’s freaking out.” She yawned wide, smacking her lips. “He was freaking out all
night, actually.”

“And you decide to mention this now?” Katara snapped. Sometimes she had very pleasant
dreams of strangling the little menace.

Toph shrugged, a finger disappearing into her nose. Katara spun away. She knew the brat did
it to annoy her; she knew that, but it didn’t stop her reacting to it. “Sokka!” she yelled,
pleased when Toph winced at the volume.

There was a little rustling in the tent, and Sokka poked his head out. He looked rough. Dark
bags under his eyes, and a slightly panicked look on his face.

“Are you okay?”

He emerged from the entrance still with that twitchy look all over him. Toph had been
correct, he was freaking out.

“I need you to look at Zu,” he blurted as soon as he reached her. His eyes were wide and
anxious and he was wringing his hands.

“Because?” She had a weird sinking feeling in her belly.

“He won’t wake up.”

“What do you mean?” she asked. Why had he waited to get her if there was something
wrong? She wanted to strangle all of them. Except Aang, but there was still time for him to
get in her bad books, too.

“He’s sick. Burning up, I can’t get him awake.”

“Why did you wait, Sokka?” Katara said. He fidgeted at her, chewing at his already very
chewed looking lip. She sighed. “I’ll come take a look.” She wasn’t honestly sure what she
could do if he was sick, she didn’t think it was the same as a physical hurt.

“What’s wrong with him?” Aang asked anxiously.

“I won’t know until I see him,” she said, very calm in the face of more annoyance. “I’m sure
he just got sick after the storm.”

“Maybe it was the rain,” Sokka said, with something like relief

“No reason he would, just from a bit of rain. Especially if he was bending himself warm,”
Toph said. She had her hands stretched out towards the small fire and an intent look on her
face that Katara didn’t trust at all.
She also didn’t trust Sokka’s face right now. He looked frantic, which was understandable,
but under that, he looked guilty. She narrowed her eyes at him. “Sokka, what did you do?”
she asked, following fourteen years of Sokka based intuition.

“Me? I didn’t do anything!” He had frequently mentioned that Zuko couldn’t lie and how
funny it was to watch, but if this was his baseline? Katara shook her head in disbelief.

“Wow,” Toph drawled. “Just wow. That was the worst attempt at a lie I’ve ever felt.”

Good to know she wasn’t wrong. Katara crossed her arms over her chest and gave Sokka the
steady ‘tell me or else’ stare. “You did. You did something.” She couldn’t fathom what, but
he had.

“I know what you did,” Toph said, grinning. She stomped a grubby foot into the dirt. “I know
everything.”

Katara had no idea if she was telling the truth or not, but her words caused Sokka to go very,
very red.

“I don’t see how that could have caused this,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. He
couldn’t look more defensive if he tried.

“What did you do?” Katara demanded. “I need to know if you somehow caused him to
become ill.”

The only thing she could think of is if Sokka had persuaded Zuko to eat something that had
turned out to be bad for him. Her brother had a terrible attitude when it came to experimental
foodstuffs, with a habit of finding out the hard way. Although he wasn’t usually so stupid to
do more than a taste test on foreign plants. She didn’t know what Zuko’s constitution was like
and she assumed princes only ate fancy nonsense so he might not be able to cope with some
of the more robust things they had been eating since leaving home.

But if that was the case, then time could be of the essence, and she couldn’t understand why
Sokka was being stupid about it. “Did you give him something?”

“What! I didn’t give him anything!”

He had gone red again. Very confusing. “It could be important, Sokka! Why are you being
like this?” She was losing her patience.

“Guys,” Aang tried, as they were both reaching a fairly impressive volume.

“It breaks the rules of the blanket fort!” Sokka shouted nonsensically, pointing back at their
tent with an angry finger.

Katara stared at him, frustrated and baffled.

“Does it?” Toph asked, “If we already know?” She waggled her eyebrows.
Sokka looked appalled. “But I’m not infectious. How could I break him? Does this just
happen when water and fire mix, is it-”

“What did you do?” Katara demanded again. This was ridiculous.

“I kissed him!” Sokka burst out, almost yelling.

“So you didn’t poison him?” Katara asked, while her brain caught up with that.

“Why would I poison him?”

“So many reasons,” she muttered, rubbing at the sudden throbbing in her temple.

“I kissed him to show him what it was like with a person you don’t hate, and-”

“Shut up, Sokka,” Katara cut him off, still massaging her forehead and resisting the urge to
really yell at him. How was he this stupid?

“Wait,” Aang said. “You just kissed Zuko now?”

Sokka was tugging on his own loose hair in his agitation as he turned to look at his friend.
“Yes? Why would I have been kissing him before?”

“Aren’t you together? Like, dating?”

Sokka blinked at him. “No!” he shouted, with a voice cracking yell that managed to echo and
bounce off the gentle slope they were camped on. “Why does everyone think that?!”

“Really couldn’t say,” Toph said, still grinning. She looked like this was the most fun she’d
had since her last Earth Rumble.

Aang looked devastated, like their lack of a romantic relationship was a personal affront to
him. “You were doing each other’s hair!” he said plaintively, like that was supposed to make
sense.

“And snuggling,” Toph put in. “Snuggles.”

Sokka closed his eyes and seemed to be trying to control himself. Katara wasn’t sure if he
was going to lose his temper or start crying, but whichever it was, it was time she took
command of the situation. “Let’s go and I can take a look at him.” She grabbed Sokka’s arm
and tugged him towards the tent. “Not you two. This is not a spectator sport!”

“Don’t need to be in there to see it,” Toph said. But she did to hear it, so Katara thought her
point stood.

She stopped Sokka before he entered the tent. “I doubt this has anything to do with kissing.
But I can’t believe you did that to-” She waved her hands at him. “-show him what it was like.
That was cruel, if you don’t mean to carry it through!”
“I didn’t know,” Sokka angrily whispered back, although why he was bothering after all the
yelling was anyone’s guess. “How was I supposed to know?”

“Do you not have eyes, Sokka!”

“Just fix him, Katara!”

She glared at him and made her way into the tent with all the affronted dignity she could
master.

The heat was almost overwhelming, and she could feel the sweat break out on her skin. This
was what happened when a firebender had a fever, apparently. He boiled the air around him.
Lovely.

Zuko was pink cheeked and all twisted in the bedroll, although he seemed to have escaped
from his shirt. On closer inspection, it looked like he had torn it off in his feverish distress,
and most of it seemed to be bunched in one fist. She touched his forehead, although she
really didn’t need to. The heat was pouring off him. He was sweating and making small
distressed noises, but otherwise did not seem to be conscious.

“Stop crowding me,” she snapped at Sokka, who was anxiously hovering.

“I’m not crowding you,” he whined.

“You are.” She shoved him back with an elbow. She relished the contact with him—alive and
breathing, and not cold and dead under the sea. But sisterly irritation was also very close to
the surface right now, and he was breathing noisily in her ear as he got in her way and fretted.

He leant slightly back from her second elbow jab. “Ow, fine!” He shuffled around so he
could stare anxiously at Zuko from the other side of the bedroll.

Katara unstopped her waterskin and began to run the liquid over his chest. She cooled the
temperature, hoping to give him some relief from the heat, at least.

First she looked at the lungs, which seemed fine, although she was no expert. Then she
checked his belly, just in case it was poisoning, and finally his head.

“Anything?”

“Nothing I can see,” she said, frustrated. She wished she’d spent more time with Yagoda as
well as Pakku, but there just hadn’t been time. Katara felt over Zuko’s body again. She
supposed healing was a bit like Toph’s seismic sense. She used water to amplify the liquid in
the body to give her the feel of it, like seeing without her eyes. Then she used it to encourage
the body to heal itself.

She just wasn’t experienced enough to know if there was something to be done for a sickness,
especially the sort that was catching, rather than something like a tumour where at least there
was something visibly fixable.
Zuko twisted his head on the sheets, sweaty hair sticking to the pillow. His breathing was
picking up, sounding laboured, even though she knew his lungs were clear. Unless there was
something she was missing?

“Don’t leave me,” he said in a desperate, small voice. “Please, please don’t.”

It was the voice of a scared child, and even though she still had some anger towards him, it
broke her heart to hear. She knew she was projecting, but she felt she’d had this dream. She
knew the sound of a child calling to their mother, begging for the inevitable not to happen.

“Can I come in?” Aang asked from the tent flap. And even though there really wasn’t room
for a fourth person, she hummed an affirmative, happy for the distraction.

“What do you think?” Katara asked Aang, nodding towards where she was still holding water
to Zuko’s chest.

He reached out a hand and touched Zuko on his brow. Zuko gasped, as if Aang’s skin was
electric, and thrashed his head like he was trying to shake off the feeling. Aang took his hand
back and moved it lower, to where Katara was still holding the water against their friend’s
chest.

“I don’t know,” Aang said eventually. “He’s fevered, but otherwise he feels fine?”

Katara nodded. “It’s just a fever. A high one.”

“You can treat that, right?” Aang asked, “I’m not going to have to look for frogs again, am
I?”

Katara grimaced at the memory. “No. I don’t think it’s the same kind of sick. I guess we just
try to keep his temperature manageable and wait it out.”

She worked on him a little anyway, probably healing little more than strained muscles. But
after a while, she had to admit there was not much more she could do. At least his condition
wasn’t becoming any worse.

“Aang, will you watch him while I speak to my brother?” The brother in question didn’t look
enthused, but he didn’t object, either. “Apply some water to his chest and temple to keep his
temperature even, and check for any changes in his breathing.”

“Sure,” Aang said, and he got a very determined look on his face, one that made Katara’s
heart swell with affection. She thought he was excited to have the chance to help Zuko out in
some way. Be a hero to him.

“Thanks. Sokka, we need to have a chat.”

“But-”

“No, you can come back and see him in a bit. Aang will let us know if things change.”

Sokka looked sullen, but resigned to his fate and the inescapable conversation ahead of them.
They walked down to the big tree at the lip of the valley. It looked gnarled and weathered,
like it had taken many beatings over the years. Katara kind of knew how it felt. Every day
seemed to give her a new battering.

She sat and rather pointedly stared at Sokka as he hovered. After a show of heaving big sighs
and being annoying, her brother joined her.

“Alright. Start the lecture,” he said.

She looked at him, attempting to convey disappointment and the confusion she felt. “You
kissed him to show him what it was like? Why would you do that if you don’t want to follow
through?” He looked very pained. “Unless you do?” she added, raising an eyebrow and
softening her tone a little.

He made several very expressive, but not particularly revealing faces. “Look,” he said. “I
know you and Zu are still, um, finding your feet, but he’s a good person and-”

She waved a hand at him, cutting him off. “Yes, yes. I know how you feel about that. I
thought I knew how you felt about him, too. I figured there was something there from the
moment I realised his feelings for you. I already accepted that I might have to put up with
him being your boyfriend.” The word sounded silly, but it seemed somehow more appropriate
than lover, which felt too much of a grown up word for her daft brother.

“Did everyone know except me?” Sokka asked after a moment.

“How could you not know?” Katara said loud enough to startle a couple of annoyed sounding
birds out of the tree. “Toph’s blind and even she could see it!”

Sokka made another face.

Katara made one back. “He was not subtle. Staring at you all…longing and pathetic.”

“That’s just how he looks!”

“Yes, at you! You will notice he looks like a thundercloud at everyone else! You can’t have
been that oblivious!” Katara threw her hands into the air in a wild gesture. Because
apparently he had been that oblivious.

Sokka was quiet for a long while. “I’ve been thinking about it. Like, all night. I am running
on no sleep, as you can probably tell.”

“You have that edge of disorientation and derangement, yes,” she said tartly. Not to mention
the bags under his eyes.

“And it’s possible that maybe the obliviousness was subconsciously deliberate.” He shrugged
a shoulder, looking miserable. “So I didn’t have to think about it. Did you really accept we
might be a thing, even before you made your truce?”

“Didn’t say I liked it, just that I was prepared to live with it. Don’t change the subject. How
do you feel?”
He was chewing his lip again and avoiding eye contact. Instead, he was staring at his hand,
where he was plucking listlessly at the scrubby grass. Katara turned back towards the distant
city, trying to give him a moment. She hoped he would open up to her, although she
suspected he might need some prompting.

“Subconsciously, deliberate, obliviousness because you didn’t want to deal with his
attachment, or yours?” she tried.

“Both,” he snapped, then sighed out through the nose in a way that was pure Zuko. Clearly a
behaviour picked up from the very close quarters they had been sharing. “I’ve been thinking
about it all fu... all night!”

“And what was your conclusion?” she said calmly. She had known he had been rather dense
on the subject, but she hadn’t realised it was to the extent he thought kissing was appropriate.
Spirits above and below. What was it aunt Wu had said? Sokka was headed for struggle and
anguish, and most of it self-inflicted. The woman knew what she was talking about.

Sokka made a strangled noise of objection to having to share his thoughts, but it didn’t stop
him from speaking, now that he had thought about it. “The emotion is there. The attraction is
there. But the idea of... of it being physical upsets me, okay? Happy now?”

“Because?”

“I don’t want to talk about this with you.” He crossed his arms over his chest again.

“Who are you going to talk about it with then?”

“Me! A committee of me and myself. Just me.”

Katara rolled her eyes up to the sky. He was infuriating, and so alive, and so hurt. She gave
him a moment to fume. She could understand him not wanting to talk about it. Even without
the… trauma, it was awkward to talk about with your baby sister. But there really wasn’t
anyone else. Except for Zuko, which would in fact be the best option, and the one least likely
for him to take.

She shivered, although it wasn’t cold in the shade of the tree. She let herself remember that
awful man’s hands on her, the ghost feel of them, tight and threatening. Remembered his
words and the expression on Sokka’s face. “Does it have to be physical?” she asked. “It
wouldn’t be surprising if neither of you wanted that right now.”

“He will,” Sokka said with complete confidence. “He will. Not because... not even because
he wants it, but because he’ll push himself, make himself face his fears and the bad stuff so
he can try to defeat it.” He shut his eyes, his fingers resuming their plucking at the grass.
“And I don’t want to be the one saying no to him.” He pulled at the green leaves, rolling them
between his fingers before tossing them away and picking some more. “Or the one saying
yes.”

“You shouldn’t have kissed him, Sokka. It was thoughtless.”

He shot her a furious look. “I know! I know that. I… this isn’t getting unravelled in one day. I
need time to think on it.”

“What are you going to tell him?”

“I don’t know! I just want him to get better. That’s the first thing. Then... then I don’t know.”
He sounded miserable. She wanted to ask him again what on earth he had been thinking, but
there was no point pouring more salt in the wound.

“Can we go and check on him?” he asked. “Aang isn’t as good as you.”

“Okay. But please, when he’s better, you need to talk to him. You need to actually speak to
him. For both your sakes.” Not to mention the rest of them who would have to deal with the
resulting moping or explosions.

Back at the camp, Sokka reassured himself Zuko was doing okay by looking in on him, and
then used the excuse of hunting to avoid them all. Katara gave him the space. He probably
needed to have a think about things.

She sat next to Toph and stirred the breakfast pot. It had almost reduced down to mush, but
she could pull it back. “Did you really see them kissing with your feet?” she asked. She was
always curious to know the limits of Toph’s abilities, but the girl was reticent in sharing
sometimes.

“Nah,” Toph said. “I mean, I knew they were doing something, and I knew their proximity to
each other, and the fact their heartbeats were going wild. So I guessed correctly what they
were up to.”

Katara chuckled. “Not sure we should tell Sokka any of that.”

Toph grinned at her. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone go that red before.”

“No, me either,” Katara laughed, then scowled at her friend. “Don’t do that.”

“Try and stop me, Sugar Queen.”

Katara sighed, still amused, and stirred the pot. That wasn’t a fight she was going to take on.
Not today, anyway.

…………….

Sokka wasn’t sure if speaking to his sister had been a good thing or a bad thing. Probably
good, although he would never admit it out loud. It had left him feeling jittery, but there had
been some relief in getting it out. And although she had rightfully heaped scorn on him for
the kissing, she had been very accepting of the rest of it. The confusion, the attraction, the
horrible awkward allusions to the reasons he might not want to have sex with the clearly very
attractive boy who had the hots (ha) for him. Spirits, what was he going to do?

Actually, Katara had mostly seemed annoyed that he had been thoughtless and hurtful
towards Zuko, which was considerable progress for their relationship. It was so Katara that it
filled him with warm longing even though she was right here. Like his mind hadn’t really
figured out they were together again.

“Are you going to talk to him?” Aang asked as Sokka finally approached his tent to check on
Zuko. Aang still had a betrayed, hurt expression on his face, like his parents had broken up.
Sokka’s friends were all ridiculous.

“Yes, yeah, we’ll sort it out. Thanks for helping.”

“You could have come back earlier, you know. He’s been awake for a few hours.” And
apparently Sokka was the bad parent, the one who had caused the family rupture.

“Yeah. I just had to have a think. I’ll deal with it.” He slipped past into the tent. He hoped his
children wouldn’t be listening in to the conversation, but that was probably a pipe dream.

Zuko still looked like shit, but his fever had broken, and his eyes opened to yellow slits as
Sokka settled beside him. “You okay, buddy? You had me worried.”

“I had bad dreams,” Zuko croaked.

“Yeah? What about?” Actually, Sokka probably didn’t want to know. Even bringing it up was
potentially opening the trauma flood gates.

“Dragons.”

Okay, well, that was not the answer he had been expecting. “How can you have a bad dream
about dragons? They sound awesome.”

“They were giving me bad advice.”

Sokka snorted, a rush of intense, almost dizzying affection filling him. “I was worried,” he
said again. “Can I hug you?”

Zuko blinked, looking confused. “Why would you ask that? You hug me all the time. We
sleep hug, even.” He looked a little upset in his bemusement.

It was a good point, and now it was out there, Sokka honestly wasn’t sure how to answer, or
really why he had asked. It felt a bit like he had been asking his own permission, which was
probably not something he could explain. “Fevers can leave you achy,” he hedged. “I thought
maybe you wouldn’t want to.”

“It’s fine.” Zuko reached out and pulled Sokka in, holding him tight and safe. He smelt
sweaty but his skin was warm and dry.

They were quiet for a while. Zuko seemed calm, his body relaxed. But Sokka couldn’t quite
force himself to stop the jittery tension in his own. They were going to have to talk about it.
Some of it, at least. Honestly, he thought Zuko would probably just let things go back to how
they had been, and Sokka would just be left to stew with his new knowledge. But as much as
he wanted to, he just couldn’t quite bring himself to leave it be. If he left things unsaid, if
they didn’t try to get to the bottom of the fucked up thinking Zuko had displayed, then it was
going to fester, and he was worried it would end up poisoning them both.

“You okay?” he said.

“You asked that. I’m fine.”

That word again. The worst word. Apparently, the gentle segue wasn’t going to cut it. It
never did, with Zuko. “There was some stuff.” Sokka winced at his own words. Never mind
the sickness, awkward seemed to be catching, too.

“We can forget it, if you want.” Zuko shifted, staring up at the wonky ceiling.

“Not that stuff, or well, it’s related to that stuff. I mean the other stuff.”

Zuko pushed himself up so he could stare down at Sokka. “What are you on about? Am I still
sick, or are you talking rubbish?”

Sokka frowned up at him with affection. His friend’s hair had dried a little fuzzy, and he was
pouting. Sokka felt a sudden, inappropriate rush of arousal again. How was he supposed to
deal with this? How was he just supposed to get through the day if this kept happening?
“Um,” he said eloquently, distracted again by the way Zuko’s lips were pursed, the full lower
one sticking out in his stupid looking befuddled but annoyed face. “Um. You said some stuff
that worried me is all. About the boat.”

Zuko did some blinking. “I don’t remember.”

Sokka dithered for a moment on calling out the obvious lie. The path of least resistance was
beckoning to him, but this wasn’t something he thought he could or should ignore, and it
would probably get harder to bring it up the further they got from the conversation itself.
“You said that what happened to us on the boat was punishment for being sick. What did you
mean?”

Zuko looked at him for a moment, then pulled back and sat up. His body went through
several postural shifts, curling in on itself, defensive, before he straightened his spine and
lifted his chin in a rigid, almost military pose. “I don’t want to discuss this.”

“I get that, but kissing me triggered that sentiment to come out your mouth. I really need to
know.”

Zuko stayed stubbornly silent, but he tucked his knees up to his chest again, his bare back
curved and vulnerable.

“What happened on the boat wasn’t because of you,” Sokka tried. He still didn’t understand
the context, but it wasn’t some sort of judgement from the universe, not for either of them. “It
wasn’t a punishment. It was just bad men enjoying doing bad things. That’s it.”

Zuko turned and looked at him, face hard and mouth a tight, closed line. Sokka wasn’t going
to give up, though, he was used to fighting stubborn. Between Katara and Zuko himself,
Sokka was an expert at it. “I admit, I didn’t completely follow what you were talking about,”
he began, and felt himself flush as he remembered what he had been thinking instead of
listening.

Zuko looked very belligerent, but still with that air of vulnerability. Usually, when
uncomfortable personal subjects were discussed, it was him instigating. Having Sokka on the
offensive was clearly difficult for him. “I don’t want to discuss it. I don’t want to talk about
what happened on the boat. Not ever.” Zuko snapped, his posture changing again, becoming
threatening. Like a bedraggled cat puffing himself up.

Clearly that rule only applied to when Sokka wanted to talk about it, not him. So tough shit,
really. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and the only thing I can come up with is that it was
directly related to the kissing, and I just don’t get it. Why would that make you sick?” Except
it had, hadn’t it? Literally. Although that made no sense, it must have been a coincidence.
“Am I sick?”

“No, of course not,” Zuko said, then grimaced. “I really...” He breathed out a few times but
didn’t seem inclined to finish his sentence.

“You really what?”

Zuko shut his eyes, rubbing at the closed lids. “What we did is not allowed. It’s immoral and
illegal.”

“Which part?” Was this a race thing? Was it forbidden to, what? Mix? Even without the risk
of babies? Not a rule the Fire Nation army seemed to follow.

“The kissing!”

“I’m sorry? Kissing is illegal in the Fire Nation? Kissing?”

“Not any kissing, boys kissing. Men kissing each other. Women kissing each other.” He
looked irate at Sokka’s incomprehension. In other circumstances, it would have been a funny
expression.

Sokka was baffled. And kind of offended. “That makes no sense. Why?”

“It’s immoral. Weak.”

“That’s stupid. I ask again, why?” Although, judging by the conversation Zuko had been
more or less having with himself right after their immoral and illegal kissing incident, he
wasn’t clear on that point either. And the slightly bemused and very frustrated expression on
his face pretty much said his knowledge on the subject hadn’t improved since yesterday.
“Seriously, Zu, why? Why would who you kiss make a difference to anything?”

“It just does.”

“That is not an answer. Come on, Sunshine, you’ve argued with me at great length about the
most stupid shit and you were more convincing than this.”

“It’s the law.”

“But why?”

“It doesn’t matter why!” Zuko burst out, face flushing with anger or some other emotion.
“You don’t question the Fire Lord! His word is law, and he says it is immoral and illegal.”

“But-”

“You just don’t, Sokka!”

“What happens if you do?”

Zuko grimaced, the motion pulling at the scar tissue.

Oh.

“You regret it,” Zuko said quietly. “So it’s better not to question. He has the right to rule by
blood. His word is literally law.”

Sokka wasn’t sure that was true. Surely there were other people involved? Just one moron on
this flamey throne surely couldn’t make all the rules? How would he have the time? There
must be some government involvement. They seemed like a religious bunch, with their
rituals and incense and stuff. Surely there was involvement from their spiritual leaders, the
Sages, or whatever they were called? But that still wasn’t the dumbest part. “So everything
one of you jerks says is important because of the family you were born into? Buddy, I got to
say, I disagree with a lot that comes out your mouth, and a lot of the time I’m proved right.”

“Like when?”

“Like almost every plan you’ve ever had? Like the teapots thing?”

He could see Zuko about to let rip on the teapots again, he just couldn’t seem to see that
Sokka argued with him about that because it was funny, not because he gave a shit. “Also,”
he said, loud enough to stop the rant before it started. “Attempting to capture or kill the
Avatar and murdering my people and my family. Those were decisions by your bloodline that
I think are completely and without question, wrong. Do you disagree?”

Pout face. “No.”

Sokka took a long slow breath in through the nose. “We’re getting away from my point.
Which is why kissing is immoral. We have established that your reason is ‘because the Fire
Lord says so,’ and we have come to the conclusion that your bloodline is not, in fact,
infallible and is prone to doing stuff that’s not sensible or reasonable. Thoughts?”

“I didn’t feel wrong,” Zuko said more promptly than Sokka had been expecting. He had been
thinking about this, and that was honestly more progress than Sokka had been anticipating
this early in their discussion.

“It felt good,” Zuko continued, shooting Sokka a look that he was tempted to describe as
‘smouldering.’
Did he know what that looked like? Or did it just come natural to him? This was all going to
be very difficult if he did things like that. The answering rush in Sokka’s body almost turned
his brain to mush. “What did you think would happen if you kissed a boy? Did you think you
were going to be hit by lightning or something? Spontaneously combust?” he said, trying to
give himself a moment. Although it was possible his dad could actually generate lightning, so
that might be a genuine fear.

“No.”

“Look. I know your people don’t think much of mine, but where I come from, this is normal.
As long as both parties agree to the kissing, two men or women can kiss or do more. I know
you find that strange, but for me, I just can’t see how it can be wrong in those
circumstances.”

Zuko seemed to be processing that, so Sokka took a moment to worry if he should tell him
about his dad, or himself, or Shen, for that matter. He debated for and against, but decided he
didn’t want to muddy the waters in regards to the adults. If Zuko felt threatened by the
revelations, he might either lash out, or not trust them when it was needed. So that just left
Sokka. But that would open doors that would bring forth complications.

He was struck suddenly with a memory of the horrible conversation they’d had about what
happened in Zhao’s cabin. Sokka had tried very hard to wipe it from his brain, but
unfortunately he had an excellent memory. Zuko had said that Zhao had known there was
something wrong with him, and that’s why he had done what he had done. This is what he
had been referring to.

“I like both, too,” he blurted before he could change his mind.

“Both what?”

“Boys and girls. I like both. I’m attracted to them, I mean.”

Zuko’s brow wrinkled. It was an unspeakably cute expression. “You can like both?”

Sokka looked at him, trying to keep his own face even. Did he think he had to choose? Why
did the Fire Nation seem so determined to fuck up its own people? “Yes, of course,” he said,
kind of numbly.

Zuko looked… hurt. Which was exactly what Sokka had been worried about. Because when
he thought Sokka only liked girls, it was reasonable for him not to have wanted to carry on
kissing yesterday. The fact he liked boys meant he didn’t want Zuko, specifically.

Sokka closed his eyes for a moment, then cupped Zuko’s jaw and pulled him in, leaning their
foreheads together in Zuko’s usual expression of affection. “I like you. I find you attractive.
But I just can’t right now, you understand?” he said with as much feeling as he could convey.

“Why? Because of Yue?”

“Yeah, partly because of Yue.” That was true enough. The hurt of her loss was still sharp.
“But partly because what happened to us fucked me up. It did. I feel fucked up. I don’t want
more than what we have, not with anyone.”

“What we have?”

“This, the closeness, the sleeping together, the trust, the…” Love. “What we have.” He
breathed out, feeling the warm air as it hit Zuko’s skin, only centimetres away from his own.
“If you need some distance after this, or if you find someone else, then that’s fine, too. I will
still be this for you, however I can be.” He hated these heart to hearts, he really did. But his
feelings were true. Well, mostly. If Zuko did either of those things, Sokka wasn’t a hundred
percent sure he would take it as gracefully as he was suggesting. But he would try.

“I don’t want someone else.”

Always honest, and always stubborn, it made Sokka feel the edge of a smile. “Okay. You say
that now, but things change. You’re too stuck in your absolutes, you need to allow things to
change, to shift. Like water. I’m good at it, because-”

“It won’t change.”

Sokka moved his face away enough to give him his very own annoyed but indulgent look.
“It’s okay if it does, is all I’m saying.”

Zuko reached out and drew him back in, looking at him with the wanting look that hit Sokka
somewhere in the gut like the most pleasant feeling punch imaginable. His mouth was soft
and slightly open and his calluses were rough on Sokka’s skin. Half an inch and their lips
would touch.

The urge to move forward and close the distance was strong. Embarrassingly so, it had been
what? Thirty seconds from the moment he’d essentially said they should just be friends?
Sokka’s own traitor hand had crept into Zuko’s hair, running through the thick strands.

He managed to tug himself away, but just barely. Fuck, but it was going to be hard to stick to
his word. “You should get some rest.” He felt Zuko’s forehead, normal Zuko heat. “You still
feel warm,” he said anyway. “I didn’t sleep so good either. We should both rest. We can move
on tomorrow.”

Although Zuko had been less of a taskmaster over the enforced marches since they had killed
Ro, he was still pretty intense about it. But surprisingly, he nodded and settled down, closing
his eyes with a slightly pained look on his face. Perhaps he was still feeling ill and had just
been fighting through it. Sokka felt bad for forcing the issue when his friend wasn’t at his
best.

Sokka lay down beside him, feeling awkward, until Zuko reached out and pulled him close,
curling around his back, safe and warm.

Tomorrow he was going to have to break the news he had broken the rules of the blanket fort.
Because there was no way those three would be able to keep the secret. Not a chance.
Hopefully a good nights sleep would give him the energy needed for that discussion. But he
doubted it was going to be fun.

……………….

Azula looked at the paper in her hand, a cold pit in her stomach.

Kazuma had finally decoded the letter to her uncle for her. Someone else knew Zuko was
alive and had the audacity to try to inform Iroh.

Azula could feel her anxiety flowing and bubbling into anger. Looking down at Kazuma
where he knelt, she was pretty sure he could sense that, too. He looked nervous.

“Is there any indication of who wrote this?” she asked.

“No, Your Highness,” Kazuma said. His eyes were on the floor, not her, and it made it hard to
judge him.

“Look at me when you speak,” she demanded.

He gazed up at her. She couldn’t see anything deceptive in his face, but that didn’t mean it
wasn’t there.

She tapped the edge of the paper against her palm. Kazuma’s rooms were not ornate, but
what he had was well made and pleasing to the eye, if rather simple. There were a lot of
papers piled on the low desk, but it was unclear if they were his or his secretary’s. Azula
tapped the paper harder. If the letter writer didn’t receive a reply from Iroh, would they try
again? If the old man found out before she was ready for him, then all her plans would be
dust. Not that she needed him, of course, but it would make things more difficult. It could put
her in a very dangerous position if he changed allegiance halfway through their campaign. If
he opted to put his weight of his knowledge and his name behind her brother for the throne.

“Tell me what you have learned about Jianjun and Zhao,” she said to give herself a moment.

Before he could answer, there was a knock on the door. Timid at first, then stronger. Azula
looked at Kazuma sharply, but he also seemed surprised. No one moved for a moment.

“Captain Kazuma?” A woman’s voice. “I’m sorry to bother you at home. I didn’t know what
else to do.”

Kazuma looked at Azula, waiting for instruction. “Who?” she mouthed at him.

Kazuma pointed to his eye, then his ear: A spy. Azula nodded, and gestured for him to get to
his feet.
“One moment, Xin Yan,” he called, pointing Azula towards the door to the right.

She quickly slipped through into what must have been his bedchamber. It was neat and tidy
and contained an alarming amount of books and scrolls. She positioned herself so she could
look through the crack she had left in the door.

It was the girl from the brothel, the one on both Kazuma's and Zhao’s payroll. “Captain
Kazuma,” she said, as he led her into the room. Azula noticed he had positioned them so she
had a good view from her hiding spot. No secrets. She wondered if that was reassuring or not.

“What brings you here?” Kazuma asked. “Are you well? Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m okay, I didn’t… I wasn’t sure who else to go to.”

“I told you that you could come to me if you needed to, Xin Yan. I meant it. Please speak
freely. If you are in trouble…?”

“I’m not.” She bit her lip. “I overheard some things this evening. I believe Zhao plans to
make an attempt on Jianjun’s life.”

Kazuma sucked in a breath. “Do you know when?”

“Tonight. I think it will be tonight. I wanted to find him and warn him, but I don’t know
where to start, so I came to you. I hope I did the right thing.”

“You did. Thank you for bringing this to me,” Kazuma said firmly, and in Azula’s opinion,
rather tediously. He paid the woman for information, he didn’t need to coddle her too.

As she watched, he glanced up, looking directly at her through the gap in the door.
Challenging. Like he was about to do something she might dislike, and there was nothing she
could do to prevent it unless she revealed herself.

At moments like this, she suspected she was going to have to kill Kazuma at some point.

He was writing something on a scrap of paper with neat little brushstrokes. “My colleague,
Ichika, can be found at the archives at this address. Please find and tell her what you have
told me. Tell her to alert the guard, give them some reason other than the truth. Then return to
your home.”

“I could help...”

“No,” Kazuma cut her off gently. “Zhao must not know of your involvement. He trusts that
you are his, and he must not learn different or you will be in danger. Leave Jianjun to me.”

She watched him for a moment before bowing with perfect posture and poise. “I will deliver
the message. Thank you, Captain.”

“The thanks are all mine.” Ash and bone, people were tiresome when they liked each other.
The girl left, and Azula waited only a beat before stepping out. Kazuma seemed lost in
thought, still staring at the door. He was not a large man, but he was still taller than she was.
When he turned to face her, Azula stared him down, eyes narrow.

“Very bold of you to make those choices without consulting me. I might have an opinion on
this, as you know.”

He sank to his knees and touched his forehead to the floor. But even that had the faint air of
defiance to it. “I did what I had to do for my own peace of mind, I alerted the guard. What
happens next is up to you, Your Highness.”

Because if they did nothing and Jianjun died, end of the engagement. But it did open up the
possibility of someone far worse. “What would you do?” she asked, deliberately not giving
him leave to rise and stepping close enough her boots were only a finger’s breadth from his
face where it was still pressed to the floor.

“He has done no wrong, other than being a brat. I would do whatever I could to save him,”
Kazuma answered promptly.

She snorted. “Your morality is very tedious.”

He laughed, a short, almost bitter huff of sound. “Yes, it is, but I find myself rather attached
to it. It’s how I choose to navigate the world.”

She stepped back, and he cautiously raised his head enough to look at her. There was that
edge of challenge again. Curse Iroh for always being right. Blackmail would only hold him
so long. Once the first flush of fear was done, his morals would start getting in the way of his
sense of self-preservation.

People were so strange. She was good at controlling them, working out what they needed,
what they feared, but she didn’t really understand them. She wasn’t sure she wanted to. It all
seemed very silly and needlessly complicated.

“Very well. We shall look for my bratish husband to be,” she said, pulling her hood back up
to cover her head.

Kazuma looked surprised. “Your Highness, you should return to the palace, I will-”

“No, Kazuma. I said we will look for him. Was that sentence confusing for you?”

“No, Your Highness. Do you have any suggestions where to start?”

“Do you?” She gestured for him to rise.

He got to his feet and began to brush off his clothes, carefully removing all traces of dirt.
“Jianjun spends time getting into fights in the rougher side of town when he can,” Kazuma
said, smoothing out wrinkles in his robe. “Drinking and acting exactly as you would expect
someone of his age and pedigree to act.”

“Like a prat.”
Kazuma’s lips twitched up into the ghost of a smile. “Yes, exactly. I suggest we start at some
of the more disreputable establishments and work our way up. If I was a hired cut-throat,
looking for a place to make a kill quietly, those would be some of the best options.”

“Very well, lead on.”

He eyed her for a moment. “Both of us also present quite a tempting target. We look out of
place.”

“You do. I look fine.” Her travelling clothes were nondescript and perfectly acceptable.

He grunted at her and eased past into his bedchamber, taking a few moments to change while
she seethed quietly. He was being very aggravating this evening, but she was also full of
anticipation. It seemed she was enjoying herself. She wasn’t sure what to make of that.

When Kazuma emerged from his rooms, now dressed in far more simple, rougher clothes, he
was buckling on a sword, of all things.

“You can bend, can’t you?” she asked. Perhaps a little snide.

“Someone who sees us might not consider that. They will notice the blade, and if they have
any sense, avoid us. If they do not, when they attack, they will not expect me to also bend,
giving us an advantage.”

Like she would not provide all the advantage they would need. “Can you use it?”

He looked at her with that small twist of humour. “I’m very skilled. Not a master, but more
than proficient. Shall we?” He waved her towards the door.

Kazuma was also very proficient in following information. After one false start, he had
tracked Jianjun’s drunken progress from the docks into the seedier areas of the city. Kazuma
walked confidentially, very intent on what he was doing. At first he had been obviously
concerned to have her with him, even though she was as disguised as she could make herself,
with her hood pulled over her face and her hair held in a tight braid. But as he had begun to
track Jianjun in earnest, he seemed to have forgotten everything but his quarry. It was
interesting to watch.

“Let’s try over the south side,” he said as they walked, quick and alert.

“Who was the girl?” Azula asked, as if she didn’t know everything he did and everyone he
met.

He glanced at her, considering. He obviously knew she knew. Azula wondered who would
win in a competition between him and Iroh. She would probably put her money on her silly
old uncle, but it would be very entertaining.

“Xin Yan. She works at the Falling Blossom.”

Azula hummed. “It seems strange you keep company with her. I wouldn’t think someone like
you would have any use for a whore. Not a female one, anyway.”

He sucked in a sharp inhale through his nose. “On the contrary, I find her company pleasant
and her wits sharp. She serves me very well as my eyes and ears, too,” he said coolly. “We
turn left here.”

He seemed to be following some sort of mental map through the area. She had made it a
point to explore the city that she lived in, but she was less familiar with the twisting, close set
streets on this side of town. This was the part that the people in the palace liked to forget
existed in the capital, which was supposed to be a place of wealth and prosperity. “Trusting a
whore with your secrets seems foolish,” she said as she stepped over what looked
suspiciously like human waste. When she became Fire Lord, she was going to burn this place
to the ground.

He gave her another glance, this one with the edge of what might have been censure or scorn.
“Courtesans and whores hold more secrets than the whole scheming court. And the
successful ones know how to keep them, and how to use them. She is an asset to me.”

“And you are an asset to me,” Azula said, low, like a threat.

“I shall certainly try to be,” he said, calm and ignoring her tone.

She waited while he ducked into a noisy tavern of some sort. While she was curious to go
inside and watch him work, she also knew that the more attention they drew, the worse the
outcome was likely to be. So she waited in the shadows without complaint and thought about
their conversation. He was probably right about the whores. That was galling, but she was not
so foolish to overlook good information just because the delivery of it annoyed her. There
was perhaps untapped potential there. She was also seeing both the risk of keeping Kazuma
and the benefits. For now, she did not think he would turn on her—but not, she thought,
because of the blackmail. No, it was his morals themselves that would tie him to her. He
wanted what was best for people, and he believed, or was beginning to, that a change in
leadership might be the answer he was looking for. Even so, she needed to bind him tighter.

“Come,” Kazuma said as he swept past her. Like she was a dog, rather than his better.
Perhaps murder would be the preferred option after all, it would certainly improve her mood.
She indulged in a small fantasy of setting him on fire, but caught up with him as he walked.
His longer legs were setting a pace that was just a bit too fast for her.

“I have been meaning to ask,” he said, as she huffed angrily a step behind him. “You are
working with your uncle, are you not?”

She glared at him. “That’s of no consequence to you, Kazuma.”

He slowed a little. “I … can you trust him? I know you have a handle on things. I know you
have more resources than I have access to, but I do not like working with men I’m unsure
of.”
This was not a conversation she had been expecting. “Why would I not be able to trust him?”
Like she was stupid enough to trust anyone.

“The bigger the prize, the less trustworthy the competitors. If you plan to go through with…”
he paused, carefully considering his words. “The things we spoke about. Can he be trusted
with your best interests? Assuming you are successful?”

A question that often played on her mind. Especially now with the possibility of Zuko’s
survival being discovered.

Kazuma looked at her again as they walked, with concern this time, perhaps because of the
amount of time she was taking to answer. “You think he might be using me to get to the
throne?” she asked, instead of answering.

“Don’t you?”

Did she? Iroh had told her flat out that he would take it if he thought it necessary, but had also
suggested he would support her bid.

“He will need an heir,” she said.

“You and I both know that you are not the only option,” Kazuma countered, horribly blunt.
She wanted to immolate him on the spot, but he was also right. “He will find out about your
brother. Not from me,” he added hurriedly, as she turned to regard him. “But he will. It’s just
a matter of time.”

“What do you suggest?”

He squinted at the path ahead, sucking on his lip in thought. “Manage the information,” he
said at last. “Be in control of it.”

She said nothing, not even to acknowledge the sense in that. Azula was surprised they were
having this conversation at all. Blackmail was very efficient, but it got you the sort of loyalty
where you made a person do things for you, or to behave in a certain way. It did not get you
the sort of loyalty that would stop a knife to the back. If you died, so did the threat. It didn’t
really make sense for Kazuma to have concern for her, and yet, he did. Even more baffling, it
appeared genuine. She was not foolish enough to think he had affection for her. But he had
the urge to protect her, as he did his whore. Perhaps it was because of the love he had for the
sister he didn’t see, or an urge to defend the young and apparently vulnerable. It might be
something worth cultivating, if that was the case.

Vulnerable was the last thing she was. Not now and not as a child. She was her father’s
daughter, and people who forgot that might learn to regret it.

They found Jianjun in a shadowed back alley, slumped against the wall. He was bleeding
from a head wound. There were signs of a fight; some blood splatter, a stray knife. Jianjun’s
own weapon, a Guan Dao, was still clutched in one of his hands, tilted against the bricks. For
a moment, Azula thought they were too late.
Kazuma ran to him, falling to his knees where the fool was slumped, and checking his pulse.
“He’s alive.”

“Oh, good.” Azula was only half paying attention. The hair on the back of her neck was
making her skin tingle. There was something very off here. She couldn’t quite put her finger
on what it was, though. The threat appeared to be past, and yet a feeling remained of
something out of place. Perhaps it was the fact his attackers had apparently left the job
unfinished and the evidence scattered across the flagstones. A bloody blade, a crossbow bolt
and, on closer inspection, what looked like fallen roof tiles. She glanced up. That must have
been how they had snuck up on him.

But why not finish him off? Had they been interrupted? Azula crouched by the discarded
weapons, looking at them closely. She picked up the arrow; it was broken strangely, and she
held it as she looked at the blood splatter that was quite copiously smearing the dirty ground.
No way all of that came from Jianjun, not if he was still breathing. Where were the corpses?
She looked back at the bolt, looking to see if there was anything identifying on it. Some sign
of where it was made, anything distinctive.

“Can you help?” Kazuma asked, forcing her attention away from the subject of her
examination. He was attempting to pull Jianjun to his feet, but the boy was bigger than he
was, and also not very conscious.

“No,” Azula said, watching them stagger sideways.

Kazuma looked offended and breathed out through his nose. Sometimes he seemed to get too
wrapped up in things and forgot who he was speaking to. Azula found it amusing, but one
day she might be in a bad mood, and then he might suffer for it. That would probably be a
good lesson for the both of them, but for the time being, she was feeling spitefully entertained
by Kazuma’s struggles and Jianjun flopping around like a dead fish.

“Your... Az... My Lady,” Kazuma finally settled on. Obviously, he couldn’t use her title in the
middle of a street, and that seemed to be bothering him more than his constant
insubordination. A very strange man. “I can’t carry him,” Kazuma continued, his voice
strained with effort. “If we want to save him, you will have to help me.”

“Have to?”

“Yes, have to. If you want us to take him back to my rooms, or to the city guard, or anything
other than leaving him here. If you can think of another idea, then I would be very happy to
hear it. But I don’t like us being out in the open like this. What if they come back? What if
someone sees us?”

She considered. It was almost worth leaving Jianjun to die just to avoid admitting Kazuma
was right. But she did pride herself on not being stupid for petty reasons, however tempting it
might be.

“Very well,” she said.

The trip back to Kazuma’s lodgings had been full of indignities. Hauling someone through
the streets was arduous, and juggling Jianjun and the long pole of his Guan Dao had been
difficult. But unlike the attackers, neither she nor Kazuma were stupid enough to leave
evidence. Azula was furious with both of them by the time they staggered up the stairs. This
was below her. Unacceptable. She was fuming as they managed to drag Jianjun up to
Kazuma’s rooms and fumble their way inside with a stunning lack of grace.

Ichika was there to greet them, wide eyed and appalled. When Azula saw her, she shrugged
out from under Jianjun’s flopping arm. Without her helping to keep him upright, he fell to the
floor, his weight taking Kazuma down, too. The pair of them hit the ground in a sprawl.

“Fuck,” Kazuma said, breathing hard. Azula hoped it hurt.

Jianjun groaned, his eyes flickering but not opening. His lank brown hair was spilling from
his mussed topknot, the blood matted tendrils sticking to his skin.

Kazuma brushed himself off before helping Ichika to drag Jianjun towards the other room
and deposit him on the bed, where he lay and bled on the covers. Kazuma looked distressed,
but it was unclear if it was the misuse of his bed or the possibility of Jianjun dying.

“Did anyone see you?” Ichika asked.

“Not to my knowledge,” Kazuma said. He shoved a shirt under Jianjun’s head, clearly
attempting to stop the blood from staining his covers.

Ichika slapped his hands away. “You can fuss about your bedding later, Kazuma. It can be
washed.”

“It will need to be burnt.”

“Your woman is right, Kazuma,” Azula said. “I would think keeping him alive was the
priority, considering how much effort it has taken to get him here.”

“Quite right, Your Highness,” Ichika said, pleased.

Azula stepped back to watch them work. They stripped Jianjun out of his shirt to examine
him for injuries. It looked like he had been hit a glancing blow with the crossbow. It had cut a
jagged wound in his side, across the ribs. But it appeared as though he had twisted just before
the bolt had hit and it had only caused a nasty scratch and not any serious hurt. It was the
head wound that was keeping him down.

Ichika cleaned it carefully while Kazuma stood to the side, staring at his sheets and looking
conflicted. People were ridiculous. Azula resisted the urge to point out Jianjun’s blood was
also soaked into his shirt and pants and smeared a little on his face. She really had to rise
above these urges.

She suspected she looked just as grisly, and would also like to clean herself, but there were
more important matters to attend to first. She, at least, could prioritise.
“There was something off,” she said, drawing Kazuma’s attention.

His face became focused again, and he nodded, his eyes moving from side to side, almost
like he was examining the scene in his mind again. “There was a lot of blood, presumably
also from the attackers. But Jianjun’s blade was clean.”

Kazuma had dropped the Guan Dao on the floor of the main room and left it there, but Azula
knew he was right.

“Where were the bodies?” she added. “If they survived, why not finish the job when he was
down? Also, this is strange.” She handed him the broken arrow shaft.

He took it and examined it closely. “The end has been crushed, not cut,” he said, turning it
over in his hands.

“Do you think he was rescued?” Ichika asked, from where she was finishing with her
bandages.

Kazuma shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense. If he was rescued, why would they leave
him there? Unless we interrupted them?” He was still looking at the end of the crossbow bolt,
like it might provide the answer. “More to the point, your question about the bodies worries
me. I did not see any drag marks, or the sort of blood drops that I would expect from walking
wounded. It is as though they simply ceased to be.”

Azula sat herself in the lone chair, crossing her legs. There were dark stains on her trousers.
Disgusting. Jianjun was going to owe her for this, as well as his life. “That is not possible,”
she said tartly. “There is a logical explanation. We have just not discovered it yet.”

“We will need to wait for him to wake to learn more,” Ichika said, perching on the bed beside
Jianjun’s unconscious body.

With nowhere to sit, Kazuma remained standing, looking stressed and tired. Azula’s presence
seemed to have that effect on him. He scratched at the dried blood on his face, looking
appalled when he realised what it was. “In the meantime, we must all be extra vigilant,” he
managed, pulling his attention back to her. “I do not believe we were seen, but if we were,
Zhao may take action against us. And I doubt he will stop going after Jianjun just because his
first attempt failed.”

That was very true. If Azula wanted to avoid her father potentially marrying her off to Zhao,
or Tsing, or some other old man, then she might have to work at keeping the stupid boy alive.
At least until he was no more use to her. A future husband she had control over was a far
safer option than the alternative right now.

She had a lot to think about.

Jianjun had woken briefly and failed to give anything even remotely resembling a coherent
explanation. He had attempted to struggle his way out of bed until Kazuma had shoved him
back into it. Kazuma had looked past the point of caring about insulting his betters or ruining
whatever was left of his reputation.

They had still been arguing when Azula had left—with his promise of a full report tomorrow.
She had other things to deal with in what was left of the night.

The contents of that letter were still causing a burning and churning in her guts. She needed
to find the traitor who sent it and remove them before they let slip to anyone else that her
brother lived. Her father must not find out, not unless she felt he should, if it could be useful.

Iroh was the other concern, of course. Kazuma’s advice was playing on her mind. She was
using Iroh’s knowledge, his tactical wisdom, and eventually she would use his name, his
support. Being certain of it was pivotal. She was about to launch a campaign against an
enemy city without the Fire Lord asking her to do so. Iroh had suggested that if she
succeeded, Ozai may reward her. Her victory was his, after all. But it would make him
suspicious and angry at the same time. Even with success, it was an act of civil war, just a
subtle one. Of course, if she failed to take Ba Sing Se quickly, then Ozai would use it as an
excuse, and her life could be forfeit. Her face certainly would be.

She did wonder what Zuzu looked like these days. She had only seen him briefly, before he
had been bundled onto the ship with their uncle and sent off on a wild goose chase. But she
had heard that the scarring was terrible. Azula shuddered. No thank you. She liked her skin
unblemished.

If she undertook this campaign and relied on her uncle’s annoyingly competent tactical
advice, and then halfway through the fight, he received a letter informing him of his little
cockroach’s survival, she might be left by the wayside. That was completely unacceptable. It
was one risk too far.

She had Kazuma, of course. But he wasn’t a battle tactician. He was clever, manipulative and
good at digging up useful information, but he was no Dragon of the West.

Azula needed her uncle, as much as she hated it.

“Claiming the throne at fourteen will be difficult, Azula. You are four years from your
majority.”

She scowled at Iroh, but he held up a finger before she could speak. “It is not that you are not
capable of ruling, it’s the unrest your youth will cause. People will automatically see you as
weak.”

“Not if I burn enough of them, they won’t,” she said coolly.

“We want a different rule from your fathers. Otherwise, what is the point for the people?
Exchanging one tyrant for another? We must be firm, yes, but not cruel.” He smoothed a
hand down his overgrown beard. Peering up at her from under his bushy brows. “There will
also be people vying for position to influence you. To try to force you into accepting them as
regent.”

“So, what do you suggest? Do you wish for the throne after all, Uncle?” That was not very
delicately put. She was tired, having come straight from the adventure with Jianjun. Iroh had
not seemed bothered at being woken before sunrise, and was sitting in his usual place,
wearing a loose night-robe and brewing tea like it was a sensible time to be awake.

“No,” he said easily. “But as I said to you before, I will take it if I think it is necessary,” his
voice hardened and his gaze grew sharp.“No, instead I suggest we go in united. If you are
correct, and my brother usurped me, then it is mine by right. But my relationship with the
nation is complicated after Ba Sing Se.” He sighed and pursed his lips. “Either I claim it, with
you as my heir, and abdicate when we both think the time is right, or I act as your regent,
until you come of age.”

“And you would put all your support behind me and follow me through the fire?”

“I would.”

“Swear it,” Azula said, her own voice as hard as granite.

“I will support you to be Fire Lord, act as your regent or claim you as my heir, as long as our
goals align. So I do swear.” He bowed low from his seated position. As low as he could,
considering his girth.

“As long as our goals align? That sounds like a rather large loophole, Uncle.”

“Is that blood on your clothes, Azula?”

She clicked her tongue, breathing out hard. She was too tired for this tedious nonsense, too
anxious, although she would never admit it. “Yes, Uncle. But it is neither mine, nor that of
anyone I have caused harm to.” Yet. “Zhao ordered Jianjun to be killed. Kazuma and I
rescued him. He bled on us.”

Iroh raised his brows. For once, it seemed he had not heard of her goings on before she had
arrived. Perhaps they really had made it away clean. “Did the boy survive?” he asked.

“Yes. For now.”

“We will have to think about how best to keep him that way. If that is what you want?”

Azula grunted. She needed him alive, but that wasn’t quite the same as wanting him that way.
“Back to the loophole, Uncle. Do you plan to wiggle through it and desert me when I need
you most?”

“No, but I must be sure that you will do what is best, not just for our nation but the world,”
Iroh said seriously. “The war must end, and peace with healthy trade must take its place. It
won’t be so simple as just to end the fighting. Almost half of our population is connected to
the army. We must find a way to support them, train them in other industries. Otherwise, we
will have hunger and fighting within our own borders.”

“And be weak to reprisals.”

“Yes, that too. A peace treaty must be negotiated to prevent it as much as possible. This will
have to include reparations.”

“No!” Azula snapped, furious at the thought. She would not see her nation shamed.

Yes, Azula,” Iroh said firmly, looking her right in the eye like an equal. “We must be humble
if we are to remain strong. Think of it as managing, not submitting. We will achieve the best
we can for our people.”

Managing again. There seemed to be a lot of that in her future. Manage people, manage
expectations, information. “They will rebel.” She hated that he was probably right, and that
her own words had an edge of childish petulance to them.

“Then we will keep them busy rebuilding, farming. We must think beyond the next step. We
must be ready to tackle these problems.”

“People will not like it.”

Iroh poured his tea. The sight of it was so familiar, after these weeks of discussions, it was
almost disarming. Comforting. He looked up at her as the water flowed gently into her cup.
“People fear change, even changes for the better. The unknown is frightening. But if managed
correctly, we can allay some of that anxiety and give them other things to be proud of. They
will appreciate not sending their children off to die, believe me,” he said bitterly.

Azula watched him, stomach churning with an unpleasant feeling. She wasn’t sure what it
was, so she examined it like she was tasting wine, picking out the smells and shades of
flavour: doubt, jealousy, fear. She hated them all.

She could never trust he was fully hers. Not with that letter burning a hole in her pocket.

He seemed to pick up on her feelings somewhat, looking at her steadily. “I swear to put my
faith in you and support your claim, as long as you wish it,” he said. “I do not break my
word, Azula.”

“Why would I not wish for it?” she asked.

“You are young. You have suffered much, and this path will not be an easy one. There will be
much to do and change. You may wish for something else for yourself, and if that is the
case…” He smiled at her, attempting to soften whatever hard expression was on her face.
“Well, we will cross that bridge when we come to it, if we do.”

If Ozai didn’t have them all publicly and messily executed.

“Very well, Uncle.” She felt a new rush of emotion. Fearful anticipation, something almost
like surprise that she was actually going through with this. But she had to be certain of him
before they took the next step. Once they left the Fire Nation, there would be no going back.
“As you have sworn your fealty to me, I will give you a gift, if you wish for it,” she said, and
was pleased her voice was even and cool. “I warn you, though, it is a double-edged blade. It
will cut you if you take it.”

“Oh? What sort of gift? It sounds vaguely threatening!” Iroh said with a smile.

She did not return it. “Do you want it? Knowing it will hurt?”

He looked at her, long and searching, all traces of humour gone, as he seemed to realise how
serious she was. “Yes,” he said finally.

She nodded and steadied herself. “My brother lives. Or he did. I suspect he still does, at least
as long ago as the raid on East Lake.”

Iroh stared at her, face unmoving for a moment. “Because of the reports of the Blue Spirit?”
he asked. His mouth was turned down, sad. “I suspect that someone else has taken up the
mantle.”

“No,” Azula said, before he could waffle on. Like she would not have considered that if there
was no other evidence? How stupid did he think she was? “Kazuma met him at Lao Fort, and
the man he was travelling with broke into East Lake with him. It was my brother. He escaped
from Zhao. He was not executed, this I know from his own hand.” She removed the letter
Zuko had written her from her pocket and handed it to him.

Iroh took it. His face creased with grief as he recognised Zuko’s stilted handwriting. She
hated it. That even after all this time, just seeing her brother’s poor lettering was enough to
elicit this kind of response. It made her angry, furious, jealous. Stupid, pointless emotions,
when it was over someone like Iroh. Their father, she could see, his regard was important for
their survival. Iroh’s was just… sentiment.

“This letter is dated before his execution, Azula,” Iroh said gently.

The anger flared up in her chest again. He was acting as though she was mad with grief,
overlooking the obvious and scrambling for proof her stupid, weak, pointless brother had
survived. “There’s a cipher in it, Uncle. You seem to take me for a fool. I’m not, I assure
you.” She reached across and tapped the paper he was holding. “It’s simple, from our
childhood. I’m sure you could crack it given an hour or two. He says the date is three weeks
past his execution. He says Zhao is holding him captive and has lied to the Fire Lord.” She
snorted. “He wrote it in the hopes I would go after Zhao. Take him down. Avenge him.”

Iroh looked at her carefully. His hands were shaking slightly. “Do you have further evidence?
This was months ago. How do we know he escaped?”

Azula drew out Taiju’s letter, and they both looked at the rolled parchment. “This one was
from my man on Zhao’s ship. It’s not pretty, Uncle. This is the blade that will cut.”
He nodded, and she handed it over. She watched his face become increasingly distraught as
he read. She took some satisfaction in his pain, even as she felt a fiery pit of jealousy in her
stomach. He still loved Zuko more. She was merely a means to an end. If he deserted her, she
would kill him. That was already decided. She could feel the lightning under her skin,
waiting, restless and wild.

There was something so dark and murderous on his face when he finished and carefully put
aside the paper, as though afraid he would burn it accidentally. Gone was the kindly old
uncle. This wasn’t even the face of the Dragon Of The West. This was something darker,
deeper, and the thought thrilled her a little, despite her vow to murder him.

She gave him a few minutes, watching the emotion and relishing his hurt. She had to,
otherwise her own feelings began to stab at her. “So, uncle. What will you do now?” she
asked, when she couldn’t wait any longer.

He took several moments to answer, struggling with his composure. He shut his eyes,
breathing deeply. It seemed to take him a long time to bring himself under control.

“You were right, this was a double-edged blade, Azula. Both a gift and a curse, as you well
know.” He looked at her like he knew the savage pleasure she had taken in watching his pain,
like he knew a lot of things. Strangely, his face softened, just a fraction. “We will continue as
planned. I have made my decision to help you end this war, and to take back the throne from
my brother. And...” He looked at her in a way that froze her where she sat. “To protect you,
my niece. I know you do not need protection in a fight. But as someone who cares for you, I
will take this as my right to do, whether you will it or not.”

It was a shock. He was choosing her. For many reasons, some of them very stupid, but he was
choosing her. She didn’t understand it.

He stared at his tea pot, lost in thought. “And then, when we are done, every man on that boat
will die,” he said, voice quiet and colder than the polar winter. “Everyone. Zhao will not see
out the year. Even if I can do nothing now.”

“Join the queue, Uncle,” Azula said, examining her nails casually. “I have every intention of
ending that man for what he had done.”

Their reasons might be slightly different, but they were both very much on the same page for
this one.

“Good. Before we leave this topic and plan our departure for Ba Sing Se, we should discuss
this information. I assume the Fire Lord does not know?”

“He does not.”

“Who does, to your knowledge?”

“Zhao. Presumably those on his ship. In the Fire Nation? Captain Kazuma, probably his
secretary, Ichika. And the writer of this letter.” She handed it over, it was addressed to him,
after all. He read it quickly and put it aside with the others.
He did not ask why she had hidden it from him. The answer was obvious. Azula appreciated
that about him.

“Can they be trusted?” he asked.

“In this? Yes, probably. Kazuma was attempting to find a way to punish Zhao for his actions.
He had just recently discovered the identity of the Blue Spirit. I ordered him to stop and to
gain the admiral’s trust instead. Which he has been doing. I am uncertain of Ichika.” Azula
had not decided what to do about the woman. She was fairly sure if she asked Kazuma how
much Ichika knew, the man would lie to her, and then she would have to punish him. If
nothing else, he seemed frightfully, and perhaps stupidly, loyal. “I could have her killed?” she
suggested. “The fewer people in the know, the better.”

“No. Leave her be.” Iroh had a focused look on his face. “I know of her, a very intelligent
woman. She could be useful. And I believe she will stay silent. Our goals align at this time.”

“Part of your spy network, uncle?”

“Yes.” He nodded his head, stupid beard wagging.

“Is Kazuma?” The idea filled her with rage. If he had been playing her this whole time, she
would kill him, useful or not. Very slowly.

“No,” Iroh said, looking up through his bushy brows again. He really had let his personal
grooming go to the dogs. “I know of him, and I believe perhaps he might have been
persuaded to join, before you bullied him into his current situation. But I believe he remains
ignorant of Ichika’s involvement.”

She relaxed slightly, pleased she would not have to incinerate her assets.

“My next question.” He glanced towards the pile of letters again. “My next question is
regarding the other boy. Has he been seen?”

Azula raised her own perfect eyebrow. “The Water Tribe brat? Yes. He was still with the Blue
Spirit at Lao Fort.”

“So Zuko is not alone. That is good.”

She scowled at him. “I’m not sure how helpful that is.”

“A good friend of mine will be very relieved to hear of his survival, and despite everything,
this warms my heart. Perhaps he and Zuko will have some positive influence on each other.”

She really could not imagine how or why. But Iroh’s face brightened, and the stupid smile
came back. “I do wish you would allow me to hug you, my niece. I feel quite emotional.”

She was relieved to see he was not making a move towards her. Just sitting and smiling. “If
you try, I will break your arms,” she informed him.
 He nodded, solemn and pleased. “More tea?”

She wasn’t so foolish to think that he was not hiding all that rage under the silly old man
mask, but it looked like it was directed where it needed to be. He was directed where he
needed to be.

“Yes, of course, Uncle. And now, let us make plans.”

Chapter End Notes

So many wonderful comments and kudo’s last chapter, thank you all so much!

Also some amazing art to share!

First amisti did this awesome illustration for the last chapter:
Here

And then the amazing hillnerd-art drew all the OC’s from the series.
Here

Please go give them some love!

Next chapter
The boys united talent for being a lightning rod for disaster leads to a series of
unfortunate incidents (only some of which are self inflicted). In the Fire Nation,
schemes are afoot. And in the Earth Kingdom, Shen and Suki have to come up with a
new plan to get into the city.
 Chapter 34
Chapter Summary

“I feel rain and abject misery.”

Chapter Notes

Warnings: That icky marriage takes place, so implied non-con, although there is no
detail and only implications of what the bride might be feeling after the fact.

Many thanks to my beta burkesl17, who has managed to wrangle my dyslexic nonsense.
All mistakes are my own.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The room Kazuma was ushered into was simple and homely, with traditional furnishings. It
was nothing special. The man gesturing him further inside was not much to look at either.
General Iroh didn’t seem much like a great leader of men, or a prince, disgraced or otherwise.
He looked like a kind, slightly rumpled man in his later years.

His eyes were sharp and cunning, though, as he watched Kazuma drop to his knees and bow
low. Offering proper respect to the blood.

“No need for that with me, Captain,” Iroh said, friendly and light. “At least not now.”

Perhaps later, on the field. If they even got that far.

“It’s an honour, General,” Kazuma lied. He didn’t really have much of an opinion on Iroh yet.
Respect for his tactical mind, sure, but as a person he really didn’t know enough to make a
judgement.

The old man was watching him with an equal amount of interest. Kazuma wished Azula was
here. She appeared to be running late. Either that, or she had engineered matters so he and
Iroh would have to deal with each other, sound each other out. But no, she liked to be in
control. She would want to take their measure as they sized each other up. Her being delayed
and missing this interaction was going to make her tetchy.

Kazuma was quickly learning the princess in a tetchy mood was someone to avoid.
“Would you like some tea, Captain Kazuma?”

“Please.” Kazuma sat in seiza opposite the older man, watching quietly as he prepared his
tea. “This is a blend from Shu Jing,” he said casually. Kazuma very carefully didn’t react,
although he could feel his heart bang against his chest like an alarm bell. Was mention of
Piandao’s home a veiled threat? Or was he attempting to let Kazuma know that he and
Piandao were... what? Friends? Acquaintances? Co-conspirators? He knew they were, to
some extent, having read their letters, but he wasn’t sure if Iroh knew he knew. Not being
certain of the facts made Kazuma feel anxious.

As the tea steeped, the smell of it wafted up. It was light and fragrant. Piandao’s own blend.
Iroh had prepared for this meeting. It was only Kazuma who was on the back foot. Even so,
the scent reminded him of better times. Of relaxing after a gruelling training session, his body
feeling alight with its inner fire in a way bending rarely gave him.

“I will be blunt,” Iroh said, as the silence stretched. “I understand that you made an effort to
bring to justice a man who brutally hurt someone I love dearly. And for that, you will always
have my thanks.”

Kazuma said nothing, unsure where this was going. Had Azula taken his advice and told
Iroh? Or had he found out via other means? Kazuma cautiously reached out and took the cup
he was offered.

Iroh shot him a look that was cool and intense under his warm smile. “The information
regarding what happened to that person must never be revealed,” he said.

This, at least, was not something Kazuma needed to be conflicted about. “It won’t. Not from
me,” he replied honestly. “I would not do that to anyone, but especially not someone so
young.”

Iroh spent a long moment looking at him, assessing, and then seemed to accept his answer as
true, relaxing slightly.

Kazuma took a breath. Challenging the blood had been something unthinkable, but these
days it seemed to happen almost constantly. Although he felt he had a better handle on
judging Azula’s moods now, Iroh was an unknown. But, nothing ventured...

“While we are on the subject of blunt questions. May I ask you one?”

“Of course.”

“What are your intentions towards Princess Azula?”

“My intentions?” Iroh’s bushy brows shot up.

Kazuma chose to ignore his surprise. “This path she is taking is… There is a low chance of
success and a high chance of it ending with her public immolation. I would rather that not
happen.”

“As would I.”

“If this campaign looks like it will fail, would you also support her in abandoning it? Would
you save her life by letting her run?” Would you give up that avenue to the throne?

Iroh’s eyes had widened slightly. Again, he seemed genuinely surprised by the question, and
something in his manner changed slightly. Perhaps a small softening in his facial muscles that
Kazuma had not even realised had been held taut.

“Yes. I have great concern for our nation and her people. Great concern for the state of the
world if something is not done to change things. But I have already lost two children. Losing
a third is unacceptable.” He smiled, sad and small. “I know that the possibility of one of my
boys returning to me is very real, but I have found it has not blunted the grief or the guilt.”

Kazuma found that he believed him. Surprising. The older man was not as he expected.

“Do you also have loved ones to protect, Captain?” Iroh held up a hand. “That was not a
threat—I realise exposure to my niece’s methods might suggest it. I merely wish to know
your motivation.”

“Aside from being blackmailed?” Kazuma asked politely.

Iroh winced. “Yes. Although-”

Kazuma waved him off. “The people I love would benefit from the war ending. Everyone
would, eventually. But that is not my motivation.” He cracked his knuckles, allowing himself
the reassuring gesture. “Azula tells me I have a very tedious sense of morality.”

Iroh smiled, genuine and affectionate. “I’m sure it annoys her greatly.”

Kazuma found his own lip pulling up a little in almost rueful amusement. “Indeed. I feel guilt
over my inaction regarding previous cruelties I have witnessed. I think perhaps it is-” He took
a breath. “I think I must take action in order to live with myself. Even if it means a
considerably shorter life expectancy.”

“That’s very noble.”

“Is it? Is it not still for selfish reasons? For my own peace of mind?” He winced and shook
his head. “Whatever my motives, I have come around to the central idea of what we are
hoping to achieve.”

“But you don’t believe it will be successful?”

“I doubt it. Not yet. Perhaps if one or both of…. your children survive it, we can try again. I
feel like our limited time to raise support will hamper things greatly.”

Iroh nodded. “There is, of course, a back-up plan,” he said, stroking a hand over his beard.

“Oh?”

“The Avatar has returned. He is learning the elements. He is very young, but his light burns
brighter than anything I have seen in all my long years. It is not just his bending, which,
when fully realised will be immense. It’s the power he has to inspire, to bring hope.” He
nodded to himself, fussing over the teapot. “And hope will bring change. Things can not
continue as they are forever.”

He poured Kazuma more tea, glancing at him and catching his eyes, holding his gaze with
determination. “Being onside with that force could make as much of a difference as fighting
the Fire Lord directly.”

Somehow, Kazuma had actually forgotten the Avatar. Yes, that might make a difference.
“Isn’t that a risk to the Fire Nation? If he chooses to take revenge?” He shuddered thinking
about it. What the loss of a whole people must be like. The culture, traditions, everything
gone along with the beating heart of an entire nation.

“Hmm?” Iroh said. He had a soft expression on his face. “No. We do not have to worry about
that. The boy is young, but he wishes for balance, not revenge.”

“He is a better man than me,” Kazuma said. He would not let such a thing go unpunished.

“Yes, yes, me too.” Iroh smiled, warm. “That is why neither of us is the Avatar.”

“You’ve met him?” There was no way that affection could be formed any other way.

“I have. He calls me uncle.”

“You think he would throw his lot in with Azula?” Kazuma asked doubtfully. Uncle?

“He might.” Iroh ran his hand over his beard again. “Not an easy sell, for obvious reasons,
but with myself as mediator, we might be able to come to an arrangement.”

Like the use of her name had called her, the window slid open and Azula slipped into the
room like a shadow. The ability to sneak seemed to run in the family.

“Plotting without me?” she asked, eyes narrow. If she had been aiming for that to be a joke,
she had missed the correct tone by some margin.

“Your Highness,” Kazuma greeted her, bowing respectfully while remaining seated. “I
wished to discuss what you plan to do about Jianjun.”

She sat, a sneer on her perfectly made-up face. “If he wishes to live, he will have to come
with us. I don’t think Zhao will miss next time.” She turned and scowled at Kazuma. “When I
asked for a full report, I expected there to be actual information in it.”

“I reported all the information I could get out of him, which was very little,” Kazuma said a
bit too tartly, judging by the slight quirk of one of Iroh’s eyebrows. “Unless you wanted me to
attempt to force him to speak with violence?”

She looked annoyed, but didn’t smite him where he sat, which made Iroh’s other eyebrow
raise a little. He was very expressive with those things.
“I must see Zhao before we go anywhere,” Kazuma said, frowning. “I must be sure he
doesn’t suspect Xin Yan. I will not leave her if I think there is any danger.”

“I do not understand your attachment,” Azula said. “It’s foolish.”

“It is how you get good information, Your Highness. In offering me this, she is in a
vulnerable position. It is my duty to ensure her safety. Otherwise, why would people risk it?”

“Money. The girl is a whore, Kazuma.”

He didn’t bother to answer her. And instead watched Iroh, who had a peculiar look on his
face. Kazuma supposed their slightly cantankerous relationship might seem strange from the
outside, considering their positions, and Azula’s propensity towards setting people on fire
when they disagreed with her. Or threatening to, anyway.

“You will also need to explain the reason you are leaving to Zhao,” Azula said, accepting her
own cup from her uncle.

“I do have a thought about that which may tie things together.” Kazuma tapped a finger
against the low table. “And I assume you will need to explain to Jianjun why he might want
to accompany us, without including the treason?”

“I can be persuasive,” Azula said.

“Hmm,” Kazuma agreed. She could, but she did have a tendency towards more stick than
carrot. A stubborn mule was easier to move with the promise of a treat than the threat of a
beating, and there was no mule more stubborn than Jianjun. “He wishes to impress his father.
Although I do not believe he likes the man. This will be your way to persuade him.”

“Yes, thank you, Kazuma. I know. I am perfectly capable of handling that stupid boy.”

“Well,” Iroh said brightly, and with an undercurrent of amusement that made Azula narrow
her eyes at him. “With that out of the way, shall we plan the rest of the trip?” He made it
sound like they were planning a holiday on Ember Island, not plotting treason. Kazuma may
have been coming around to the idea, but he still wasn’t convinced it wouldn’t see the lot of
them very dead, very quickly.

Xin Yan had assured him she was one of a dozen girls, waiters and other folk who could have
potentially overheard Zhao plotting. Which seemed careless of him, but Kazuma also
suspected he was feeling desperate. If Jianjun somehow managed to survive his marriage
long enough to become Prince Consort, then Zhao’s career would meet a sudden,
uncomfortable end. If Tsing used his son’s position to gain influence, it could have swift
consequences for him even before the marriage took place.
Xin Yan was certain, but Kazuma was not. Still, the best he would be able to do was throw
Zhao off his own scent and muddy the waters a bit.

Visiting with the admiral always made Kazuma feel dirty and he was not going to miss it
when they left.

They met at the officer’s bar, rather than the Falling Blossom, and Kazuma hoped that wasn’t
indicative of Zhao’s suspicion.

The admiral looked in a bad mood. Even making Kazuma spend half his pay on overpriced,
mediocre wine didn’t seem to cheer him up.

“Did you hear about what happened to Lord Jianjun?” Kazuma asked as the silence stretched.

Zhao looked at him sharply. “Everyone has heard.”

Kazuma nodded. “It seems the story of terrible thieves attacking lordlings has spread far and
wide. Although Jianjun himself seems to be strangely reticent on the subject. You would
expect a boy with such a talent at complaining to be more vocal about it.”

As always, trash talking his rivals did seem to perk Zhao up a little. He took a long drink, still
with a sour slant to his mouth. “He complained enough that the story has spread.”

“Yes,” Kazuma agreed, making a show of taking a sip of his own, but only wetting his lips
with the wine. “There was a lack of detail, which is surprising.”

Zhao’s eyes narrowed, and he looked at Kazuma steadily. “You think there is something odd
about this?” He sniffed, turning his cup in his hands. “I heard that the authorities were out
looking for the footpads before the boy was even found. I do wonder how that happened.”

Kazuma kept his face attentive. “Yes, me too. It makes me think...” he glanced up at Zhao,
before looking down at the table.

“Yes?”

“Well, there were already reports of an uptick in thievery. Lord Iwao was robbed only last
week.” Kazuma smirked slightly. “Although it was hushed up due to the... particular
establishment he was coming out of at the time. Perhaps the authorities being on high alert
was coincidence.”

“But you don’t think so?” Zhao asked, his face veering between intense interest and a sneer
of contempt, presumably for Lord Iwao’s suspect tastes, or perhaps the fact he was caught
indulging in them.

“I… I don’t have proof of anything, it’s just speculation on my part,” Kazuma hedged. Zhao
gave him an impatient little nod. “I just wonder if Jianjun used the stories about muggings to
cover up for something else.”

“I admit, getting caught drunk in a back alley doesn’t look good for him, and it is odd he
didn’t leave those details out,” Zhao agreed.
As predicted, implying Jianjun was up to something was enough to gain the man’s attention,
but he would need to be careful, Zhao was not stupid, he had a tendency to let his arrogance
and temper get ahead of him, but he hadn’t reached his current position without being
cunning.

Kazuma nodded at him. “True, but although several people were arrested in the city for
thieving and mugging over the course of that night, Jianjun has been unable to give a
description of his attackers.”

“He was drunk,” Zhao said. He tapped the half empty bottle of wine with his fingers, the
sound vaguely threatening. “You have a thought, Kazuma. You should come out and say it.”

“It might be a foolish idea, but it is one I can’t shake,” Kazuma admitted quietly. “I would, of
course, need to collect more evidence...”

“What idea?” The man really wasn’t known for his patience.

Kazuma lowered his voice. “What if he is the Blue Spirit? It’s possible, don’t you think? His
primary targets have been his father, and you. It might be possible.”

It was a very, very shaky link that could be disproved almost immediately. But it didn’t have
to hold water, Kazuma only needed for Zhao to think Kazuma believed it.

Kazuma could see the moment the trap snapped shut and Zhao’s interest was caught like a
summer hare. “Do you think that could be possible?” Zhao said, leaning forward.

Despite his distaste for the other man’s proximity, Kazuma leaned in too, adding to the
conspiratorial air. “Don’t you? I think it matches up. He could have used this as a cover.
There were no additional footpads and thieves, other than the usual suspects the guard
rounded up. The rumour was started by the boy himself. To cover up for injuries sustained in
some raid or other.”

It was a risk. For himself, for Xin Yan and for Jianjun. But if he could pull it off, Kazuma
could not only keep them safe but also position himself where he was needed, without Zhao’s
mistrust or anger.

Zhao wanted Jianjun dead. And Kazuma had let it be known he wanted the Blue Spirit dead.
The temptation to attempt to manipulate Kazuma into murdering the boy for him would be
too great. There was no way Zhao would let him get close to the real Blue Spirit, Kazuma
knew that now, but Jianjun was fair game.

“You know, I had considered it,” Zhao said, leaning back almost too casually. “Although his
weapon of choice is different.”

“That makes some sense, though,” Kazuma said, trying to keep his face and tone as sincere as
possible. “He wouldn’t want it to be obvious.”

“Listen, Kazuma, proving this will be very hard. Not to mention if it’s true, he has a hold
over you. I’m sure he’s just waiting for the right opportunity.”
Kazuma scowled. “No doubt he will use it at the worst moment. His father will have me
hung.”

“There must be something you can do about it?”

Ash and bone he was tedious and predictable. Kazuma sat back and looked morosely into his
cup. “I would need to be absolutely certain. There could be no mistake.”

“But you will need to act fast. Too slow and it may be too late.”

“I could never beat him in a fight. I can’t challenge him.”

Zhao shook his head and poured more wine. “Of course not, and of course you mustn’t move
without proof. You may not be able to fight him, but in order to prevent him revealing things
you want hidden… Well, it’s going to be difficult. He might act against you first. If he does,
I’m not sure how much I can protect you.” Zhao made a face that Kazuma thought was
supposed to be apologetic. “And it’s also quite possible his father will just have you killed.
He won’t want to reveal the fact someone may have stolen his secret documents. The Fire
Lord might be quite upset if there was anything sensitive in there.”

Kazuma rubbed his slightly wine scented fingers over his eyes. “Jianjun is joining Princess
Azula to inspect the troops. I would not be able to act before he leaves.” He worried his lip in
obvious agitation.

“I suppose Jianjun is going to try to impress his old man. It won’t do him any good. Even
boys born to such high stations can come to nothing.” He was watching Kazuma carefully.
“Perhaps you could discover more, find your proof. And then maybe you could bring him to
justice. Although, if you do, he might spill all your secrets.”

“I will have to find a reason to accompany them. Perhaps another audit.”

“Yes. That seems sensible,” Zhao agreed, pouring himself wine, and neglecting to do the
same for Kazuma, apparently too distracted by his own thoughts.

“Jianjun’s father will also be heading out towards Ba Sing Se soon, to launch an assault on
the city.” Kazuma said.

Zhao sneered. “They do not listen to me, and they will regret it. We should be using my ships
as support from the river. I reported the Water Tribes in the area.”

Zhao was correct. It would make sense to have naval reinforcements. Unfortunately, Azula
didn’t have any, and aside from the ship they would use too travel. The troops at her disposal
were all infantry. Chief Hakoda would be heading up river for the purpose of defending the
city. They would have to find a way to stop or slow him, preferably before they arrived.

“You are the most skilled admiral in many years, why wouldn’t they listen to you? You
earned your rank, not like so many others who were just born into the right families,”
Kazuma soothed.
“Exactly.” Zhao’s teeth were clenched in anger. Kazuma could imagine the sound of them
grinding.

“If you had the go ahead, if you had the freedom to take any action necessary to stop the
Water savages, what would you do?” Kazuma was fairly good at battle tactics, but he was
army, not navy. And who knew? Maybe the tiresome man would share something useful.

Once set in motion, preparations were quick.

Officially, they were off to inspect troops. Unofficially, Azula was planning to take charge of
them and attack the city. Meanwhile Kazuma’s job would be sounding out the soldiers,
ferreting out any men of rank who might side with her, those sick of the war, those from the
colonies, those whose losses had disillusioned them. And he would also be seeking out the
ones who would be reporting straight back to Ozai, so they could be removed as quickly as
possible.

Ichika was accompanying them. Kazuma wasn’t sure how he felt about that. On one hand, he
was pathetically grateful to have someone he could confide in, and to help share the
workload, to have someone he could fully trust. Of course, that trust had taken a bit of a
beating recently, but it was still there, and her friendship was still one of the most important
things in his life. So, on the other hand, he was concerned this might get them both killed. If
he caused her death, he would never forgive himself.

Also joining them was Jianjun, having been persuaded or threatened by his bride to be. He
wasn’t looking too happy about it, but he was there, which is what they needed to keep the
stupid boy alive. He was sulking over by the prow of their ship and glaring furiously at the
short, choppy waves of the harbour. His head wound was now an angry scab on his suntanned
skin. He was clearly too absorbed in his own personal drama to pay attention to the other folk
on the ship. He hadn’t even acknowledged Kazuma, and he certainly hadn’t glanced at the
short, round, Fire Sage they were bringing as a royal ‘tutor’ and to bless their endeavours.

Iroh didn’t look much like a general on a good day, but with a sage’s hat, robes, and his
overgrown beard, he looked even less so. Thankfully, most people never really looked past
the outfit and superior attitude of the sages, so Kazuma hoped no one would make the
connection.

Back behind them, up towards the palace, the sky was suddenly lit with fireworks, raining
down like strands of liquid fire and wild, brightly coloured sparks. The drums in the distance
built up into a crescendo of frenzied, layered music. Kazuma turned to watch the bright
explosions as they reflected shimmering off the waves. He felt itchy with the need to be on
their way, but they were still missing Azula herself. Although it was her father’s wedding day
so her tardiness was understandable. Kazuma had the impression she would really rather have
just left without attending, but she needed to make certain she appeared every inch the dutiful
daughter.
It was full dark by the time the princess arrived. She had changed out of her ceremonial robes
and was dressed in armour. Her expression was grim as she strode to the bow and looked out
over the water as the ship made its last preparations. Finally, it began to hum beneath their
feet; the engines coming to life.

The strands of hair Azula allowed free from her topknot were whipping wildly in the wind.
Kazuma watched her quietly for a moment, a small determined figure back-lit against the city
lights. He couldn’t help feeling that he would rather not support a regime that made
functional armour for fourteen-year-olds.

“Your Highness,” He greeted her as he stepped up to the rail beside her, feeling the wind beat
against his own face.

“What do you want, Kazuma?”

“To tell you that you have my support.”

“I know. We established that weeks ago.”

“I meant willingly, Princess. I will follow and do your bidding without the need for threat.”

She snorted. “Don’t believe I will not follow through with those threats if you don’t behave
as you should.”

“Of course, Your Highness, I wouldn’t dream of it.”

She didn’t look at him, but he thought he saw the tiniest hint of a smile on her face. The sight
of it lifted his spirits. Although the moment was slightly ruined by the sound of Ichika
vomiting over the rail somewhere behind them, he did feel a flare of hope, bright, like the
gold reflection of the fireworks on the water behind them.

................................................

Hua watched Fire Lady Mai as she sat next to her new husband and accepted a drink of his
wine.

Hua was used to the palace, but the opulence of this ceremony and feast was still staggering.
Streamers of red and gold, incense, flowers, music. It was almost overwhelming, an
onslaught for the scenes.

The Fire Lady looked calm, composed, and beautiful in a cold way. Like an exquisite statue
carved from alabaster.

Just being able to witness this was an honour that Hua could never have imagined for herself.
But she was expected to do far more. Princess Azula had tasked her with keeping a close eye
on Lady Mai, as her other companion, Ty Lee, had been sent away on some other secret
mission.

Hua had been gifted to the Fire Lady as her maid and intimate bodyguard. Her duties would
begin as soon as Lady Mai returned to her own chambers. But that would not be for some
hours yet. She had time to watch the feast and try not to goggle at the sights and smells and
sounds.

Honestly, she thought Lady Mai looked miserable under her studied calm. Her parents looked
happy, though. They looked almost beside themselves with joy at their jump in favour and
status. It made Hua feel a little sick. The idea they wouldn’t even hide their glee at selling
their daughter into a marriage with a man with children who were the same age as her. There
was a slightly unsavoury rumour that she had been intended for the Fire Lord’s son, not the
Fire Lord himself, but the match had not been confirmed as the prince had been cast out
before he reached the age of fourteen.

It was just so different from her own family. Her father would have never made her marry
someone she didn’t like, even if he was rich and important. Although, he probably wouldn’t
have been able to say no if it was the Fire Lord. But he wouldn’t have looked happy about it.

Thoughts of her father made her stomach hurt, a bitter, dull pain in her gut. She refused to
believe he was a traitor. She refused. Whatever happened, it had clearly been a setup, and she
fully intended to find out why. She would bring justice to those responsible.

She knew who the main culprit was. He was eating and drinking at one of the top tables,
practically glowing in luxurious silk, with all the pins of his rank affixed to his clothes.

Hua watched him, seething with hate. She knew her father had disliked Zhao when he had
been sent aboard his ship, but he clearly hadn’t expected to have been betrayed by him. Zhao
was going to die for what had happened to her family. Her father wasn’t a traitor, but it was
unlikely she would ever be able to prove that. Instead, she would bring the admiral to justice
in the only way she could. She would wait for her moment, and he would die on her blade.
For her father, for her missing mother and brother, and for herself.

It was nearly dawn when the Fire Lady returned to her rooms. The celebrations had gone on
well into the early hours, before she had retired with her new husband to consummate the
marriage. That task over, she had returned to her own quarters. She was no longer in her
wedding attire, just a loose gown.

“Your Highness.” Hua dropped her face to the floor in proper obedience. She heard the Fire
Lady let out an exhale at the title.

“I have prepared a bath for you,” Hua said, still prone on the floor. “Would you like to go to
the bathing room?”
“Yes. Get up and don’t bow like that to me in these rooms.” Lady Mai said, tight and
measured. Her face looked no different from how it had been in the bright lights of the feast
hall.

“Yes, Your Highness.” Hua rose to her feet and led the way to the adjoining room. The bath
was still warm, steaming slightly.

The Fire Lady stripped off her robe, handing it to Hua when she reached for it. She let out a
sigh as she sank into the water and her sharp eyes closed for a moment.

“Would you like help with your hair, Your Highness?”

“I’m capable of doing my own hair,” Lady Mai said without opening her eyes.

“Of course, Your Highness. But some people find it soothing,” Hua ventured.

“Very well.” Her voice was steady. There are no marks on her body. No bruises, no sign of
violence, but she still flinched when Hua’s hand brushed her shoulder.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, Your Highness?”

“No.”

“I have a tea blend that could aid sleep?” Hua dragged her comb through the long, thick hair
in her hands. Beautifully kept and cared for, exactly as it should be for the consort of the Fire
Lord.

Lady Mai nodded and picked up the soap and oil. She set about scrubbing her pale skin until
it glowed an unnatural red.

Quietly, Hua made the tea. Her heart was aching. Many might feel envy of the Fire Lady’s
status, but to Hua, she seemed like a bird that had just been caged. It was a gilded cage, but
no less a prison. And she could feel nothing but pity for her.

………………

In the end, Shen never made it out of sight of the port town. He and Suki hadn’t found
anywhere in the town to stay, and every person they spoke to told the same story. No one was
getting into the city. Maybe if you were rich, maybe if you were important or if you were
useful. But no one else.

One merchant complained that only trade ships with large cargo got in. People like himself
were treated no better than the riffraff camped outside the walls. Instead, he was forced to
trade with the refugees. Some had brought goods and family heirlooms with them they would
sell for some rice, but then he had nowhere to sell those items without access to the city.

Shen couldn’t quite keep the expression of disgust off his face.

“Don’t you dare judge me,” the man had said, spitting into the mud and narrowly missing
Shen’s boots.

Shen had judged him, but there was no point in causing themselves more trouble, so he had
stepped over the place the man had spat and ignored him.

He wasn’t sure if it was worth trying to search the camps. He was fairly sure Zuli wouldn’t
let an impenetrable wall stop him if he wanted inside. Getting there might also be an issue,
many people reported being robbed between the port and the walls. Those that returned to try
to find some authority to report the crime to, or were just seeking the safety of the town
walls, found little justice and little sympathy. The free port was bursting under the weight of
the refugees filing it, and the presence of so many people seemed to be stripping the residents
of their humanity. It was horrible to watch. But it wasn’t all like that. They had run into a
group of people trying to organise safe spaces for women and children to sleep just outside
the city walls, and others feeding what people they could.

The lodging they had found was space to sleep in a barn, about half a mile from the port.
They were sharing it with four other men, and it was making Shen uncomfortable. When
people asked, he told them Suki was his sister, and despite there being no resemblance at all,
people seemed to accept it. At night she slept tucked up under his arm, and during the day as
they worked for their spot in the barn, he kept both eyes on her.

“Shen?” Suki asked, leaning on her hay fork. “I think we should have stayed on the boat.”

He sighed. “Yeah. Although I don’t know if they would have just taken us there.”

“Cook said they were carrying grain. Where else would they be taking it? Although-” she
signed. “I don’t know why the city needs so much of it. I heard they had miles of fields
behind the walls.”

“Crops burn, Suki,” Shen said, grim. That had happened last time. He shuddered at the
thought. If he was being honest with himself, which was something he was attempting to
avoid if he could, he was upset at the prospect of returning. Ba Sing Se was where Shuo had
died. Where he had burnt. Shen didn’t want to remember. He didn’t want to think about it.
But the closer he got, the harder it was to ignore.

“Half the crew are Fire. It’s going to be awkward to get in,” he said, attempting to distract
himself as much as discuss their options. “The ship is mostly metal. It’s an old Fire Navy ship
that’s been repurposed.” It had sails, as well as an engine, so must have been at least fifty
years out of date. More maybe.

“Yeah, but the rest of the crew are Earth. Only the ones that look Fire would have to stay
below decks. And I suspect whatever they are bringing in or out, aside from the grain, is
probably worth officials looking the other way.”
“Even the grain might be enough to make them allow it in these times,” Shen said. “Fuck, we
should have stayed on the boat.”

“They might be still in port, Shen. There’s a backlog of vessels being allowed through. When
I spoke to the farmer, he said some ships get stuck for weeks, although they are trying to
make it faster, getting as much food in as they can.”

Shen leant back against the side of the barn. “Okay, let’s say they are, or maybe we could find
another ship. We’re broke. We won’t be able to earn passage in the short time it will take to
reach the city.”

“Maybe they’ll do it for free, for us.”

“They’re pirates, Suki. They don’t do shit for free.”

Suki smirked at him. “Perhaps Ayano will put in a good word for you. Perhaps if you offer
her something she might want?” She wagged her eyebrows suggestively.

Shen blinked at her. “Are you suggesting I prostitute myself for passage into the city?”

Suki seemed to ponder for a moment, squinting up at him. “Yes.”

He stared at her, giving what he hoped was a shocked, appalled, and offended face. She
stared back, unimpressed, so he shrugged. “Okay, worth a shot.”

Ayano laughed so hard she was bent double and wheezing.

Shen had told Suki to let him speak to her alone, and the girl was a respectable distance away,
but not quite far enough, judging from her giggles. She wasn’t even trying to hide them.
Honestly, Shen was trying very hard to restrain his own mirth, although the tears rolling
down Ayano’s face were a bit much. It was funny, but not that funny.

It had worked as an icebreaker, though, so he was able to segue into his secondary and more
serious plan: begging.

“My kid’s in there,” he said. “I have to get in.”

Ayano grimaced, wiping the tears off her face with one rough, work worn hand. “I’m sorry
for that, but what do you expect to be able to do that their mother can’t? You’ll just end up
drafted or starving in the street like the rest of them when things get nasty.”

Shen winced at the image. “He... there isn’t a mother. It’s complicated.”

Ayano leaned her butt against the fence on the dock, not bothered by the copious amount of
bird shit coating it. “How old is this child in the city alone?”

“Sixteen. I think.”

“A precocious youth, were you?”

Shen snorted. “Yes, very much so. But Li’s not my child by blood. I just kind of picked him
up.” He shrugged, unable to really explain the situation. He had no idea how Zuli actually felt
about him. If he saw him as family, as a friend, a protector, or someone to be protected. He
did sometimes seem to think Shen was his responsibility, rather than the other way around.
What went on in that kid’s head was a mystery.

Ayano glanced sideways at Suki, who was sitting on a crate, watching them and swinging her
legs like a mischievous child. “Is picking up wayward brats a habit of yours?”

“Er, yeah, apparently. This one-” he jerked a thumb at Suki. “Has a smart mouth, but a good
head on her shoulders. The other one is like tangling with the personification of mayhem on
the daily. Endless disaster. But...” He shrugged again.

“Look, Shen, I feel for you. But when I offered a space for you, it wasn’t for passage. You
would need to stay for me to make a case, become one of us. Make it worthwhile for the
whole crew.” She pursed her lips and looked him up and down somewhat critically. “Unless
you have suddenly come across enough money to pay your way? I’m afraid your dick doesn’t
have the same appeal to the rest of the crew that it does for me.”

Suki doubled over laughing again. She was clearly not far enough away for this conversation,
and he needed to remember just how sharp her ears seemed to be. He watched her for a
moment. She didn’t seem anxious the way Shen was. She had made a positive judgement
about Ayano and decided she would help them out. And while Shen agreed, it was the
mysterious captain who was really going to be the issue. Despite a friendly atmosphere with
the crew, he was under no illusions that if the order was given they would cheerfully chuck
him overboard. Maybe they wouldn’t to Suki. Maybe.

“Can you help me make my case to the captain?” he asked. He could hear the slight pleading
in his own voice and was momentarily unsure if he should be embarrassed or lay it on even
thicker. “You’re his first mate, you must have his ear.”

Ayano leaned back, looking at him, her animated face very carefully blank. “The captain and
I have been through some shit these past few years. Lost our crew together, deserted
together.” She looked back towards the ship, mouth in a hard line. “So yes, my word could
help you. But passage isn’t free. Not for you, not for anyone.”

He sighed. “What do you want from me? I can work. I can fight. Whatever you need.”

“Not much on the boat. I suppose you can clean.”

That sounded fun.

“Cook likes Suki, so perhaps she can help him out in the kitchen again.” Ayano stood upright,
wiping the back of her pants as she did so. “But when we get to the city, you will be ours
until the debt is paid, understand? No running off. You will pay it. Whatever is needed.
Labour, fighting. Do you have any other skills, education?”

“Nah. Learned my letters in the army.”

Ayano poked him in the chest. “We are, of course, getting ahead of ourselves. The captain has
to agree first.”

“Which you will help with?” He gave her his best impression of Sokka’s puppy dog eyes.

She looked at him with amused and indulgent scorn. “You owe me personally for this.” She
leant forward, slightly crooked teeth flashing in a fierce grin. “And I fully intend to take it out
in trade.”

He grinned back. “I thought you didn’t fu... um.” He eyed Suki, who was watching the
exchange with a raised eyebrow. “Didn’t spend time with people you work with.”

“Spirits, Shen. You’re so embarrassing,” Suki said. “At least use a more convincing
euphemism. That didn’t even make sense.” She hopped off her crate and approached, no
doubt to make Shen’s life worse. “We already had a long discussion about sleeping with the
enemy, so it’s not like your sex-life is a shock to me.” He had been correct about the life
ruining.

“We are not enemies,” Ayano said, stretching. Shen watched her as she twisted her torso,
lifting an arm over her head as she yawned. He was quite looking forward to her ‘taking it
out in trade’ if she decided that was what she wanted. Ayano pointed a finger at Suki. “The
enemy of my enemy is my friend.”

“Yeah. I wasn’t talking about you.”

For fuck’s sake. Shen was honestly impressed at the amount of mileage Suki was getting
from that one stupid incident. It was a warning (that he had so far ignored) not to give her any
more ammunition about anything.

Ayano raised both her eyebrows with a lascivious grin. “Oh? Now this I want to hear about.”

“It’s not a thing!” Shen protested. “It was a... Oh, never mind.” He gave up, too enchanted by
the amount of glee in Suki’s face. He was a sucker, and probably a terrible parent. Parental
figure. Big brother? Whatever he was.

“Well,” Ayano said, winking at Suki. “While you clean out the latrines and swab the decks,
we won’t count that as working together. Because it’s so pathetic.”

Suki snort-laughed. It sounded like a donkey-chicken.

“But when we get to the city, sex is off the table,” Ayano continued.

“Yeah, fine,” Shen agreed. “How about drinking and gambling and all the other fun shit?”
Friend stuff. “That still okay?”

“Oh yes. That will be more than acceptable.”

He grinned, feeling a little lighter. Suki smiled back at him. She seemed very sure they would
be okay. And perhaps she was right, they might actually have a shot at making the city, and
even if he had to work off his debt, he was sure he could do it without too much issue. As
they made their way back on board the ship and began to get a friendly ribbing from the crew,
Shen felt more positive than he had for weeks.

That feeling lasted until he was below decks and being ushered to the captain’s cabin. The air
felt stifling and made his skin prickle. He knew he was standing in a room with a firebender,
and it was making him sweat, not just because of the raised temperature. Ayano had said they
had deserted at the same time, so it stood to reason the captain was Fire. But Shen would
have been able to guess that from his interesting facial hair choices. He couldn’t tell if he was
a bender from looking at him, but his instincts said he was. A navy firebender.

Shen shuddered. What was he doing? He controlled his reaction as much as possible, staring
at the man as he sat in his chair and stared back. Aside from his short grey hair, the captain
looked military through and through. His face was hard and sour in countenance.

It had been perhaps worryingly easy to put aside Ayano’s Fire Nation origins. Easy to pretend
she was a mercenary, not an ex-soldier. This was harder. Putting faith in a man who might
have spent the past thirty years burning Shen’s people alive was unsurprisingly going to be a
challenge. He had to take a few deep breaths.

“Why should we give you passage?” the captain asked without ceremony. “We don’t need
extra hands or extra mouths to feed. And we don’t need extra trouble, if that’s what you’re
bringing.”

“No trouble,” Shen said, pleased that his voice didn’t sound as anxious as he felt. Being in a
closed room with a firebender was making his heart pound in his chest. “We’re not being
hunted, if that’s what you mean. I just want to find my kid.”

“So join the other refugees and petition to enter.”

“Yeah, I have nothing to offer them. They’re not letting people in unless they have deep
pockets.”

“You have nothing to offer us, either,” the captain pointed out.

“I’ll do anything, within reason. I’ll work it off.” Within reason was suddenly an important
qualifier. Despite the joking with Ayano and Suki, sex was not an option, murdering
innocents on either side or killing his own people was also non-negotiable.

“And when you find your kid? Presuming they’re even in the city.”

“He will be. He’s resourceful. I just need to find him. He doesn’t have anyone else. Well, no
other adults. I will continue to work for you until my debt is paid. If I find him or not.
Please.” It really galled him to beg, although it hadn’t with Ayano. But he would do what he
had to.

Suki stepped forward, doing her own version of Sokka’s doe eyes. “I can fight too. And I’ll
do the labour.”
“What do you hope to find in the city, girl?” the captain asked. His voice hadn’t softened any,
but his expression had a fraction. Maybe. Suki was almost as talented as Sokka when it came
to that face.

“I want to find Li, too. And I promised my best friend’s dad I would look after this big lunk.”
She walloped Shen in his belly with the back of one hand.

“Hey,” Shen said mildly. “I resent that. I’m looking after you.”

“Whatever. We’ll never get in without help. Shen’s a deserter. If they find that out...”

The captain turned his brown eyes back to Shen and watched him carefully. “Why did you
desert? You look like career military, the way you hold yourself.”

“To protect the kid,” Shen said, then grimaced. “It’s more complicated than that. I was up on
charges.”

The captain shifted, his flat gaze growing suddenly sharp. “Ayano told me you instigated the
prison break at East Lake. Your own people punished you for that victory?”

Perhaps he was actually more interested in taking them on than it had first appeared. East
Lake certainly made him look more appealing to a pirate crew. As long as no one mentioned
the fact it had mostly been planned and instigated by three sixteen-year-olds.

“Yeah,” he said. “It broke the rules. I knew that, I was prepared for it, to be punished for it.
But the commander… It’s hard to explain. He wanted something from me, implied the kid
would be hurt if I didn’t do it.” Not technically true, but close enough that it sounded sincere.
No way he was bringing the Blue Spirit into this.

The captain watched him, intent and searching. “What aren’t you telling me?” he asked, eyes
narrow. Not a fool then.

“He’s Fire.”

One grey eyebrow shot up. “Your captain?”

“The kid. Mixed maybe. But...” He shrugged. He seemed to do a lot of shrugging when it
came to trying to explain Zuli. “Probably not.”

The other eyebrow rose. “And how did this come about? You having a Fire brat?”

“Accident. I rescued him from a bad situation, and he became my responsibility.”

“But that is surely over now, if he is out of your hands and in the city? How is this still your
obligation?”

“It’s not an obligation, and it doesn’t work like that. He needs someone.” And so did Shen.
What else did he have? Emotion slammed into him unexpectedly, the intensity making his
vision blur. He had Suki, and he had Zuli. Sokka wasn’t his to claim, but he had a
responsibility towards him too, as well as affection. Two kids, one of them fucking Fire. That
was all he had after a life’s work and dedication. Shen rubbed a hand over his eyes, trying to
shake the pressure loose. Spirits. If he could keep them both alive, then everything would be
worth it. It had to be.

The captain sighed, annoyed. But apparently swayed by the expression on his face. It was a
surprise that apparently Shen’s distress had done it, that or his obvious need to try to save the
boy. Either way, sentimental was not a word he would have expected to be using to describe
this hard-looking man.

“Ayano, if this goes wrong, it’s your hide I’ll be taking it out of.”

“Whatever, Captain.” Ayano’s casual disrespect certainly indicated a strong friendship

between the two. Shen supposed he should consider that to be reassuring.

The captain muttered something about insubordinate subordinates. “Very well. You will repay
your debt. If you take off without paying it, we will hunt you down, understand?”

Shen bowed, mixed feelings of relief and trepidation running through him. “Yes. Thank you.
I will pay my debt. You have my word, Captain…?”

“Jee,” the captain said. “Don’t make me regret this.”

…........…

Sokka woke with the warm, safe, Zuko feeling. But then memory and sensation tore it away
from him, and he gasped, feeling momentarily bereft. Zuko was holding him, as he often did,
with an arm around his waist, tucked up against Sokka’s back. He was clearly awake and
relaxed, with no sign of either tension or arousal. Unlike Sokka, who suffered a considerable
wave of both as soon as his brain was fully awake. This was then promptly followed by guilt
and panic.

“You okay?” Zuko asked, not helping by breathing hot breath onto the back of Sokka’s neck.

Spirits.

“Yup, yup, fine!” Sokka said, his voice sounding perhaps not particularly fine. “How are you
feeling? Better than yesterday?”

“Yeah. Much better.” Zuko stretched and yawned before pushing himself up. “I slept late,” he
said, sounding surprised. “It’s past sunup.”

“Your body needed the extra rest,” Sokka said, then squeaked when Toph stuck her whole
head in through the tent flap. He could feel Zuko’s body temperature rise with surprise, but
thankfully he didn’t set her on fire. “Toph!”
“Don’t worry, I made sure it was safe to enter. Or mostly safe.” She grinned. “Your sister said
if you are both not up and out in five. She’s going to murder you with a stick. She didn’t
specify exactly what she was going to do with the stick to achieve your deaths, but she
sounded serious.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Sokka said.

“Your funeral.” Toph was still grinning.

“Go away,” Zuko suggested. He was scowling. He hadn’t enjoyed being surprised, but his
face became softer as he turned to look down at Sokka. “You seem freaked out,” he said.
Then, like a bastard, he brushed a bit of loose hair off Sokka’s face. The gesture was tender
and the hot touch of his fingers on Sokka’s skin was electrifying.

Honestly, he wasn’t sure if Zuko was attempting to seduce him, or if he was just being
normal and Sokka’s new and not improved outlook on things meant he was just reading this
behaviour as sultry. How could he tell? He was hard pressed to imagine Zuko attempting to
seduce someone subtly. In his mind, Sokka could see him being blunt and demanding and
probably very, very awkward. It would be charming, funny. But sexy seduction? Nah.

And yet, that’s what this felt like.

“She shouldn’t barge into the tent,” Zuko said. Still with the same smouldery expression. At
least he was attributing Sokka’s freaked-outness to Toph and not horribly inappropriate sex
thoughts. “Can we get a lock for the tent?” Zuko continued, oblivious and still with that same
expression. Maybe it was just his face?

“Er,” Sokka said. He was caught staring at Zuko. The way he had a bit of crusty shit in the
corner of his eye and faint red marks from how he had been laying, and the big bags under
his right eye.

And somehow that was cute.

Sokka wanted to die.

But that was okay, because Zuko was going to grant that wish for him. Just as soon as Sokka
had plucked up the courage to admit the breaking of the blanket fort covenant. The thing that
would end his life and also hopefully put him out of his misery. Although he would not be
surprised if this would follow him to the spirit world and beyond.

“Zuko?”

“Yeah?” Zuko had pulled his tunic onto his lap and was frowning at a hole in the armpit. He
might have to ask Katara for help, and Sokka suspected he would rather drown himself.
Maybe his new found needle skills could be put to the test, although they had used most of
the thread sewing the tent, and before that, sewing Zuko’s leg. Or Shen had done the sewing
that time. Fuck, Sokka missed him. He would be able to help make some sense of these
feelings. But hopefully Shen was back with his unit, getting ready to fight.
“Yeah?” Zuko asked again when Sokka failed to follow up.

“So, they all kind of found out,” Sokka winced. That was probably not the ideal opener.

“About what?”

Sokka took a breath. “About the kissing.”

“They found out?” Zuko said, his mismatched eyes wide. “How did they… you promised! It
was the blanket fort!” He pointed at the four corners of the tent, mimicking the action Sokka
had made when he had brought up the code.

“I know, buddy. It wasn’t on purpose, I swear,” Sokka said. Zuko looked hurt and angry, and
worse, a little scared, like he was expecting something really bad to come of it. “I’m sorry. I
really am. Toph kind of already knew. I guess she saw us through the dirt? With her feet?”

Zuko was still staring at him. He hadn’t exploded into violence or anger, which was good, but
Sokka couldn’t help thinking that would be better than the expression on his face. “So she
guessed, and they kept questioning me, and I thought… I thought I had caused your sickness
somehow.”

“How can kissing cause a sickness!” Zuko broke in loudly. Sokka should probably tell him to
keep his voice down if he didn’t want everyone to know their business, but he doubted it
would do any good.

“Well, now that I think about it, quite easily, actually? You’re basically putting your spit in
someone’s mouth and people who have a sickness often spread it through close contact.”

“You’re not sick! It was the rain that made me ill, obviously!”

As if in mockery, the rain started coming down hard, the sound of it thunderous on the tent
roof.

“Look, maybe it’s a good thing? At least it’s out in the open and you don’t have to worry
about that happening? Everyone is fine with it. Well, except Aang, but he’s mad because he
thought we were dating, and is crushingly disappointed to find out we are not.”

“What?” Zuko looked and sounded completely bewildered. This wasn’t shaping up to be a
good morning for him.

“Yeah, I don’t get it either, but you’re alright. He blames me.”

“But he shouldn’t, that’s not fair.”

“Zuko, you don’t need to defend me from my friend’s disappointment in my non-existent

dating life. It’s fine. I am sorry for letting you down, and letting them know when you
weren’t ready. I was scared, and my sister just has a way of making me tell her stuff.”

“Does she hurt you?” Zuko was frowning intensely.

“No. Do you really think she would?” The idea upset him. Even taking aside the fact that
Zuko leapt to that conclusion, the very idea that Katara would deliberately cause him harm
like that was kind of offensive.

Zuko seemed to consider that for a moment, turning it over in his head. “No. No, I don’t
think she would hurt you. But that means you have less of an excuse.”

Sokka shook his head. “I don’t have any excuse. Just an explanation and an apology.”

“I don’t know how to feel.”

“That’s okay. Let’s have some breakfast, alright? Don’t worry about the guys, they’re not a
threat over this.”

Zuko’s eyes narrowed, like he was indignant that they could be considered a threat to him at
all. He shoved his tunic over his head and tied the sash with the same sort of attitude Sokka
would expect to see if he was preparing for battle. He even went so far as to strap on his
swords.

Outside the tent, the rain was coming down like a sheet. It was worse than it had been the
past week, and there was a yellowish tinge to the sky, like the air was alive with electricity.

Over by the fire, Katara and Aang were holding the rain off in a curved shape big enough to
shelter them and the breakfast pot. Sokka grabbed Zuko’s arm and hustled over as quick as he
could. Even so, he was soaked to the skin by the time they got there.

“You look like a pair of drowned rats,” Katara greeted them as they made it to her shelter.
She looked pleased at the state of them.

Zuko huffed and started to steam himself dry. Unable to do the same, Sokka gave Katara his
best begging face.

“Ask nicely,” she said.

“Oh please, mighty Master Katara, please take the water out of my clothes!”

She snorted. “I think you should call me mighty Master Katara for the rest of the day.”

“No.”

She grinned at him and drew the water out of his clothes and hair with a wave of her hand.
The sensation was disquieting. It made him think of the dry husks of grass that had been the
result of her fight with Ro.

“We should make the city tomorrow, or maybe the day after,” Aang said. He smiled at Zuko
and gave Sokka the stink eye. He was clearly still in the doghouse for having the audacity to
not be dating his best friend.

Zuko didn’t notice though, because he was being all hunchy and twitchy and awkward and
avoiding all eye contact. It might take him a little while to adjust to people knowing, but at
least it was out in the open. Sokka couldn’t help feeling like he really lucked out – he had
been anticipating something much worse.

“This is good, Katara,” Aang said, lifting his bowl with what could only be described as the
fakest of fake smiles on his face. He was trying to be nice, but the jook lacked anything even
remotely resembling flavour.

Katara gave him a look. “This is the last of our rice. We have no spice or salt, no dried plants
left, nothing. So you will eat it as it is. No other choice.”

“Oh!” Sokka said, “I have salt! It’s not much, but it will give it a little boost! Dad gave it to
us.” He made to push himself up and brave the rain again.

Zuko put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. “I’ll go,” he said. It could be because he was
concerned over Sokka getting soaked, but it was more likely he was happy to have the excuse
to escape from their company for a few moments. He was still looking twitchy.

“Thanks, buddy.”

Sokka watched as Zuko dashed towards their tent, steaming slightly as the rain hit him, then
turned back to his sister. “From what I’ve heard, getting into the city is not going to be easy.”

“I’m the Avatar, they’ll let me in,” Aang said, confidently.

“Hmm. Having been exposed to some of the higher ups in the Earth army, I’m not convinced
it’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“I think we should use the Avatar thing as a last resort. I don’t trust them not to try to use it
somehow. It would be better to sound out the Earth King first.”

Aang made a face. He was far too trusting. It hurt a little to make him see the reality that
people did shitty stuff for good reasons, as well as bad. He was still making his little frowny
face, like he couldn’t quite grasp what Sokka was saying. Katara looked like she was on the
fence, but Sokka would bet she would end up leaning towards believing the best of people.

“Snuggles is right,” Toph said. “The Avatar is the world’s most powerful weapon. People are
going to want to use that.”

Aang looked appalled at being called a weapon, but Sokka couldn’t bring himself to soften or
sanitise it. The truth hurt sometimes, but it was better than pretending different and opening
yourself to risk.

“Listen,” he said when Katara looked like she was going to object. He was vaguely aware of
Zuko jogging back towards them, hunched over the package in his arms to keep it dry.
“Listen, it’s hard to be cautious of our own allies, I know, but.-”

“What’s this?” Zuko interrupted him, thrusting something under Sokka’s nose. He blinked
and then felt a rush of dread. Zuko was holding the plans for the drill. The ones he had
stuffed into the same pack as the salt.

Sokka felt like he was in the path of a sled hurtling down a slope. Very few options for a
successful outcome, no time to figure them out.

“Um,” Sokka said, staring past the drawing at Aang, vainly seeking help. The Avatar looked
less like a weapon and more like a little boy in a state of mild panic. It wasn’t helping
Sokka’s brain to come up with a sensible solution.

“I don’t know,” Toph said acridly. “You want to share, for those who can’t see it?”

“Schematics,” Zuko said. “For a machine.” He still seemed more confused than angry.
“These aren’t your drawings, Sokka. Where did you get them? The design is Fire.”

“How do you know that?” Sokka asked, floundering a little.

“The engines? The design? The flame motif?”

“Yeah, all right, that might tip you off, I agree.”

“Where did you get it?” The frown was growing.

“It’s just some stuff I found that I thought might need investigation.”

Zuko was looking at him intently, brow furrowed. He wasn’t great at reading emotions on
faces, but he was an expert at reading tells in the body. Sokka was a good liar, but he thought
he had survived today’s drama with the blanket fort. This had completely blindsided him.

“Why did you have it hidden?”

He could keep lying, he might be able to pull it off. Trying to keep it dry would be a good
answer. But then he could never reveal the truth, because then he would never be forgiven.
He had meant to talk to Zuko about it; he had. But things kept happening, and he had
forgotten.

“I think it’s the schematics of a weapon,” he said. “For use against the Earth Kingdom. To
break the walls of Ba Sing Se.”

Zuko was looking at him steadily, colour high on his right cheek. “You found it at Lao Fort?”
he guessed. “Did you tell Shen about it?”

This... was not going to go well for him, Sokka could sense it. “Yeah,” he admitted.

“But not me?”

“I was going to, but you were already so... so stressed, and fighting with your loyalties, and I
didn’t want to make it harder for you.”

“Bullshit,” Zuko said. His eyes were narrow, and he had clearly moved from bewildered to
hurt and then on to anger.
Sokka stood, although he wasn’t sure if that was the right thing to do, but even though he
knew he was safe with Zuko his body couldn’t quite accept that and demanded he take action.

Zuko didn’t waste any time. As soon as Sokka was on his feet, he was shoved backwards.

“Hey!” Katara yelled, as Sokka’s breakfast went flying, and Zuko’s fist tangled in his shirt.

“After everything? You don’t fucking trust me with this?”

“I do, Zuko, it’s not about trust, it’s about-” Sokka had to stop and wave Katara off, as she
was on her feet and holding her water ready. Their truce only went so far, apparently. The
rain was hammering down now she wasn’t shielding them. It was dripping into his eyes. “It’s
exactly what I said it was. I trust you with my sister, with the Avatar. Do you really think I
don’t?” Sokka held Zuko’s hot fingers where they were clutching his clothes. They were
shaking against his skin. “Zu, come on.”

“Get fucked, Sokka,” Zuko snarled, shoving him backwards, so he landed on his arse with a
huff of the breath leaving his body.

“Zuko!” Katara said again, but she didn’t attack him. Clearly, she thought that the shove was
justified to some extent, which it probably was, after the past few days. He was probably
lucky to just get away with that.

Zuko lobbed the packet of salt at him for good measure, then spun on his heel and began to
stalk off.

“You can’t leave!” Aang called plaintively. “We need you!”

Zuko stopped, his shoulders heaving with angry breaths and his efforts to control his rage. “I
promised I wouldn’t just leave. So I won’t. But I don’t want to be here now.”

Aang nodded. The rain was flowing down his little bald head, and it made him look even
more sad.

“Good job, Sokka,” Katara said, her hands on her hips and her drenched hair in wet tendrils.
“Good work and dealing with that completely avoidable situation before it happened.”

“I was going to tell him! We just had stuff going on.”

“Stuff?”

“Yes, stuff.” Sokka rubbed his face with his hands hard enough it hurt. He was soaked to the
skin, his bland breakfast was all over his pants and he really, really wanted to cry. But he
couldn’t. He needed to think of a convincing argument.

“Give him time to cool off,” Toph said. “Pack up your shit and be ready to start walking
when he gets back. I’m sick of this valley and this rain.”

“Yeah. Okay, good idea,” Sokka said. He kept glancing towards the river. Zuko had said he
wasn’t going to leave, but what if he did?
“Stop it,” Toph told him. “You’re driving me mad.”

“Stop what? I’m not even doing anything!”

“I can feel you agonising.”

“That’s not my fault!”

“It is!”

Sokka huffed. “Okay, it’s not my problem.”

She snorted. “Fair enough. How about I go talk to him, and make sure he is not hurling
himself into the river in his misery, while you think about what you have done to cause all
these problems, and pack up?”

Sokka wiped water out of his eyes. He didn’t bother to argue. “Yeah. Yeah, that would be
good. Thanks.”

They had camped further from the river than usual, due to the heavy rains, and he watched
her until she was out of sight, before he began to listlessly pack up their things. Everything
was wet and getting wetter.

How was he going to resolve this? He thought Zuko would listen to him when he calmed
down, however angry he was. But that knowledge didn’t make Sokka feel any better about it.
The guilt was clinging to him, sucking at his steps and hanging heavy in his guts.

He dumped the rolled tent along with their bags and stared at them morosely.

“He will understand, Sokka,” Aang said, sunny and helpful. He patted Sokka on the arm. “It
doesn’t feel like it now, but he will.” Then his brow wrinkled. “There’s something… do you
feel that?”

“I feel rain, and abject misery,” Sokka said. “If it’s not one of those things, then no.”

Down from the river, they heard a frightened, high pitch scream, and a distant noise like the
sound of waves hitting a rocky shore.

“Was that Toph?” Aang said, but Sokka was already running.

It should have taken no more than ten minutes to reach the river, but it seemed the river was
coming to them, a low fast moving rush of brown mud and water, churning and almost
crackling with intensity.

“Fuck!” Sokka said. “Fuck, fuck. Flood!”

Visibility from the rain was bad. He couldn’t see either Toph or Zuko, and he waded a few
steps into the oncoming water, shocked at the speed and strength of it. “Zuko!” he called.
 “Toph!” Aang was keeping the worst of the water away from himself and was further ahead
than Sokka, who was suddenly struggling to keep his feet. This was bad, really bad, he
realised. This wasn’t just about losing Toph and Zuko, they could all get swept away.

“Toph! Zuko!” Aang shouted again.

Sokka turned around. “Katara!” He yelled. Yeah, she was a waterbender. She was far more
likely to survive this than he was, but the fear that was rushing through him was more fierce
than any untamed river and didn’t care for logic. “Katara!”

“Sokka!” He heard her voice, but then the water, only up to his ankles a moment ago, hit him
with renewed force, right up to the back of his knees, bringing with it bits of branch and tree.
He lost his footing and went down, the water grabbing at him, pulling and buffeting and
twisting as he tried to regain his feet and breath.

“Sokka!” Aang this time. Closer than Katara. He felt strong little fingers grab his clothes,
even as the water tried to strip him of them. “Sokka!”

He grabbed at his friend, clinging to him as they tumbled and Aang struggled to waterbend
them free of the torrent.

All Sokka could do was hang on and pray.

Chapter End Notes

Some amazing art to share!

Amisti coloured the stunning art they made for the kissing chapter
Here

And Pentapoxie drew this very accurate and hilarious picture of Shen and his kids
Here

And then made this equally accurate video of the moments before the picture
Here

Please go give them some love!

Next Chapter:
Team Azula does some plotting, and she is faced with a new and very unwelcome
complication. Hakoda is struggling to help a city that is not even acknowledging the war
they are all fighting… and he may also have accidentally let the fox into the hen house
and served it some tea. Sokka is struggling with what has happened, and Tu’s life gets
approximately one billion percent more complicated.
 Chapter 35
Chapter Summary

“I’m not grumpy, that’s just my face!”

Chapter Notes

Many thanks to my beta burkesl17, who has managed to wrangle my dyslexic nonsense.
All mistakes are my own

Warnings:
Brief ableist language, discussions about periods, angst.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Azula was feeling out of sorts. Cranky. She wasn’t sure if it was due to being on the ship,
some anxiety she wasn’t acknowledging or her father’s wedding, and what that meant for her.
But whatever it was, she felt tense and like she needed to burn something.

She, Iroh, and Kazuma were having a meeting in her uncle’s small cabin, and the two men
were somehow more annoying than usual.

“We have ways to deal with Hakoda’s ships,” she said. “They are made of wood, after all,
and unlike on the ocean, there is little room to manoeuvre on the river.” It was the speed and
dexterity of the small vessels that made them so effective, even over the Fire Nation’s
superior fleet.

Iroh nodded, his eyes sharp. “While this is true, if we destroy them, it could leave us at a
disadvantage later.”

“How so?” As if she didn’t know the real reason he didn’t want to engage Hakoda.

“Any enemy of Ozai is a potential ally.”

“I see. And this has nothing to do with your relationship with the Avatar and his little friends?
One of whom happens to be Hakoda’s daughter?” she asked, her voice as sweet as she could
make it.

“That is part of it, yes,” Iroh admitted easily. He didn’t even have the grace to look
embarrassed.
Kazuma shifted a little. “General Iroh is correct,” he said. “We might be able to use them
later—antagonising the Avatar would also be foolish at this stage. We might need him, also.”

“Who invited you to speak?” Azula snapped at him.

He took a deep breath, unnerved, but not nearly as frightened as he should be. “I told you I
would follow you of my own volition. That means I will defend you, even to my detriment,
even against yourself,” he said. He held her gaze a beat too long before averting his eyes
properly.

How was she even supposed to counter that? People were not stupid enough to speak their
minds to her father, nor to her, most of the time. Kazuma seemed to have taken his new place
in her life to heart in a way that was unexpected. It was infuriating, especially today, as she
was feeling particularly aggravated. She didn’t like having to work at controlling herself. It
meant she was weak enough to need to. But as much as having someone contradict her was
enraging, there could be merit in it. She might be right most of the time, but those times when
she was not, she needed to know about it.

Azula nodded tightly. There was a weird feeling in her gut, some ball of anger that felt out of
place and made her want to lash out. She was better than her base emotions, though, and she
held herself in check again with a mortifying effort.

“Very well. What do you both suggest?”

“We need to find a way to mire the boats before they reach the city,” Kazuma said. “Zhao
very helpfully gave me some pointers.” He smirked slightly. “Although most of his methods
would be more lethal than would be practical for us, perhaps we could modify them?”

She sneered. “The men will disembark. They are travelling with the Earth army. There are
enough soldiers to cause a problem. Perhaps even to break the siege when we start it.
Although…” She tapped her chin with the sharp fingernail. “Although, they have also been
picking up refugees, civilians who have begun following their camp. This makes them slower
to move, puts them at a disadvantage if they must protect them.”

“Yes.” Iroh’s eyes were narrow. “There are, as I understand it, a great deal of refugees also
camped outside the city itself. They will be crushed against the walls if Hakoda and his Earth
allies are not careful.”

“And if we are not,” Kazuma put in. “Killing non-combatants is not the best way to start this
particular campaign.” He cracked his knuckles. Another annoying habit he had. She wanted
to hit him.

“Perhaps we can use that,” she suggested. “Use their reluctance to kill the refugees.”

Iroh nodded. “Use them as a human shield, you mean?”

Predictably, Kazuma didn’t look happy at the suggestion. He seemed discomforted. “You
have a lot of faith in the Earth army not just riding through them. And perhaps too much faith
in our army not doing the same,” he said.
“Such tactics would be regrettable for the Earth generals, don’t you think? It does not look
good when you massacre your own women and children right in front of the city you are
supposed to protect,” Iroh said. He was sitting comfortably, legs crossed under his red Fire
Sage gown, in stark contrast to Kazuma, who, while dressed in casual robes, was sitting
formally and as straight as an arrow. “It could work. It will need discipline from our side,
however. The people may not wish to be herded in such a way, and may fight back. We must
not let the troops get over excited and overreact.”

“Our troops should be able to act with precision and delicacy,” Azula said. “If they can’t,
then they are undisciplined, and should fall on their swords in shame.”

“Hmm,” Iroh said, non-committally. “Expecting soldiers to commit suicide is rather wasteful.
However, shame is a powerful motivator.” He glanced at her, eyes shrewd. “You seem to
have a lot of information on Hakoda and his camp, my niece.”

Azula’s smile was sharp. “Know your enemy. Isn’t that one of your proverbs, uncle? What is
that other one? Keep your friends close and your enemies closer still?”

“Indeed.” It had the tone inviting further explanation, but she declined to give it to him.

“If we are done here?” She rose to her feet. “Kazuma, a word.”

He also stood and bowed to Iroh as she led him from the room.

She didn’t bother going further than the dark metal passageway before she turned on him.

“Have a care how you speak to me, Kazuma. I give you leeway because I appreciate your
insight, but if you dishonour me, I will hurt you, do not mistake it. If you need to challenge
me, do it carefully, understand?”

“Yes, Your Highness.” He dropped to his knees and pressed his face to the cold floor.

The sight was deeply satisfying and settled some of the feelings churning in her stomach. She
gave it a beat or two to make sure he was truly uncomfortable. “Get up. Go about your
business.”

She didn’t watch him rise, instead heading straight up to the deck.

The fresh air helped clear her head a little, but she had to admit she was feeling a little
unwell. She did not get seasick. The very idea was ridiculous. And she did not get food
poisoning. She would not allow her body to react so violently to something without her
permission.

It was more than just sickness, though, something wasn’t right with her. She felt off kilter in
her body and in her emotions. The angry feeling was just part of it.

Jianjun was standing by the rail, looking stupid. He had grown into his height, and didn’t
have the long-limbed, comical look he’d had in his earlier teens, but to her, he still seemed
like a boy pretending to be a man.
He glanced at her, dismissive, and not at all the way he should be treating her.

His expression didn’t change when she leaned against the railing, but he did turn to face her.
“Why did you bring Kazuma?” he asked. “Of all the people? You know my father wants his
blood and is busy slandering his reputation for failing to catch the Blue Spirit, and for
allowing Lao Fort to be raided.”

At least it was only that. Her blackmail wouldn’t be much good if his secrets were exposed
by someone else. “It’s hardly Kazuma’s fault your father keeps allowing himself to be shown
up by a brigand like the Blue Spirit.” The petty side of her rather wanted Tsing to find out
exactly who it was who had humiliated him so many times. He would probably have an
aneurysm.

Jianjun snorted. “Kazuma is not your man. He’s my fathers.” The wind had stripped some of
his brown hair out of its topknot and was making it dance wildly, dashing it into his eyes.

“Nonsense, your father is my man, so anything that’s his is mine.”

Jianjun looked at her, expression cool. “My father is your father’s, not yours. Don’t make the
mistake to think otherwise.”

She ground her teeth, seriously contemplating pushing him overboard. But she had just
decided that when people were right, she would listen, even if it was unpleasant. This was a
necessary place to start.

“Why do you care who Kazuma belongs to? Do you think he will betray me?”

Jianjun shrugged. “He betrayed my father, ran off like a deserter.”

“He went to find the Blue Spirit. And then I insisted he work for me. No desertion. No
betrayal.”

He shook his head, like he couldn’t believe her foolishness, and she was forced to overcome
yet another urge to shove him into the sea below them.

She pushed away from the rail. The sea air was no longer helping, and instead it had started
to feel abrasive against her skin. As she stood upright, she felt suddenly dizzy, and
experienced a heaving ache in her stomach, almost like she needed to go to the toilet urgently,
but not quite. She held the rail with one hand as she waited for the sensations to pass.

Has someone poisoned her? Would anyone dare?

She shoved away from the edge, one hand curved around her belly slightly. “Get out of my
sight,” she snarled at Jianjun.

He looked at her with surprise and perhaps concern in his brown eyes as she turned away
from him. “Azula…”

She didn’t respond, not even to reprimand him for leaving off her rank and affording her the
respect she deserved. She just forced herself to walk below decks and back to her cabin.
She was only there five minutes before there was a knock on her door.

“What?” she snapped. She sat stiff and upright on the side of her bed as Ichika opened the
door and slipped inside. This was unexpected. She had thought it would be Kazuma coming
to annoy her again.

“Your Highness. Jianjun said you seemed unwell, and fetched me to look in on you,” Ichika
said. She looked a little disarrayed, with some hair not restrained neatly in her topknot and
something of a queasy countenance. She clearly did not enjoy sea travel, and she had worn
the same slightly green pallor since they had set off.

“I’m fine.” Jianjun was a stupid tattle tale. Why Ichika of all people? She had not earned even
the barest whisper of trust.

“If you are sick, we must take stock of your symptoms and make sure it is a natural illness,
Princess. You are a target and are relatively unprotected on this boat.”

She was right. Azula wanted to murder her. “I feel dizzy, and I have a pain in my stomach.
And...” she sorted through her feelings, trying to find something to put into words. “I feel a
general malaise.”

“I see. May I touch your forehead, Your Highness? To take your temperature.”

Azula was not sure if she was okay with that. Having someone so close to her made her feel
unbalanced and defensive. She didn’t like to be touched, and certainly not by someone she
barely knew. It was beneath her. But, she suspected if she refused, the next person up here
would be the ship’s doctor, probably with Kazuma or Iroh in tow, and that would be
intolerable. She consoled herself with the fact the other woman’s bending was so weak it was
virtually pointless. “Yes,” she said reluctantly.

Ichika did so. Her hand was warm and soft. After a moment, she withdrew it and looked at
Azula critically. “Do you have any other pain?” she asked. “Any soreness in your breasts?”

Azula frowned up at her. How did she..? Then, like being doused in cold water, she realised
what Ichika thought her sickness could be. Stupid to have not considered that. It was a
completely unacceptable thing to happen now. The timing couldn’t be worse and she felt a
flood of angry betrayal.

“No, I refuse! I refuse!” she said. She sounded angry and irrational, even to herself.

“I’m very sorry, Your Highness, you can’t actually refuse your menses. It comes when it
comes. This is your first I take it?”

“It might be poison,” Azula said hopefully.

“You sound like you would rather it was.”

She almost would. This was a disaster. But now the thought was in her head she knew it was
right. It was a horrible feeling, knowing that her body had so casually betrayed her. That and
the fact there was the possibility of being forced into marriage two years early. “No one must
know,” she said, aware she was giving the other woman power.

“Jianjun may have had an inkling. That might be why he fetched me and not the ship’s
physician.”

“What does he know about women?”

“He was raised by women. His mother, her maid-.”

“Lover.”

“Yes, more than likely. He was raised in the women’s quarters, with women and girls. This is
probably why he puffs himself up like a turkey goose when he deals with men. So determined
to prove his own manliness. To prove it to his father.” Ichika shook her head.

“Pathetic,” Azula said.

“Perhaps.” Ichika didn’t look like she agreed with her assessment.

Azula frowned at her. “Is it always like this? Every month?”

Ichika took the change in direction in her stride. “For some, yes, it’s an ordeal, with great
pain and unpleasantness. For others, it’s merely a mild inconvenience. I wouldn’t judge it by
the first. Your body is just getting adjusted.”

“Not the pain. The rest of it. I don’t feel right in myself.”

“That also depends. Some people feel more irritable. But perhaps you are suffering from it
now because of your anxiety? There is a lot going on for you at the moment, Your Highness.”

Azula snarled at that idea, and at another twinge of pain deep in her body.

Ichika nodded at her. “You can take some mild pain killing herbs if you wish, but they may
cause drowsiness. So you may prefer to apply some gentle heat from your hand to your belly.
I will bring you some supplies for the blood. In a few days, it will pass.”

She wanted to complain, she wanted to scream, but what was the point?

“Also, it is worth remembering that this means that pregnancy is now possible, and you will
need to take steps to avoid it should you sleep with a man.”

Azula made a face that, judging from the way Ichika’s lips seemed to be twitching, seemed to
convey her disgust at that idea. “I have no interest in such things,” she said.

“That may change, or it may not. Just be aware.”

Azula lay back on her bed as the door closed behind the older woman. She couldn’t help
wishing she was wearing her armour. She felt somehow undone by this, exposed and
vulnerable.
Azula had dozed for a while before pulling herself out of her bed and busying herself with
her correspondence. She was trying to track the movements of her stupid brother. She wasn’t
sure what she was going to do with him, how he might affect things. But she would need to
factor him in somewhere. He could be useful, but he could also prove to be a problem if not
handled properly.

She tapped the letters on her desk with her fingernails, sharp points scratching at the thin
paper.

There was a hard rap at her door before it swung open without her even granting entrance.

Jianjun came in, his presence annoyingly large, looming in the doorway. “Are you planning
rebellion?” he asked, shockingly blunt.

Oh, now she was going to have to kill him. It would be easy, he couldn’t even bend. The
thought lifted her mood a little.

“I recognised your uncle. I’m not a moron,” Jianjun continued, taking a seat on the end of her
bed like he owned the place.

His lack of fear of her was unsettling. With Kazuma, she could sort of understand it, now that
she knew him; he got too wrapped up in things and forgot his place, or his conscience made
him overcome his fear to challenge her. But at least he had fear. Jianjun seemed to consider
her his equal and didn’t seem to view her as a threat. She was going to have to teach him
otherwise.

“I beg to differ. You’re stupid enough to admit this to me. I could burn you to ash and no one
would ever know what happened to you.”

He pursed his lips and ignored her threat, once again proving that he was, in fact, quite dumb.
“You’re going to try to take the city. I want in.”

“Why would I do that?”

He shrugged. “To prove yourself to your father? Or perhaps to gain support of your own?”
He regarded her with that same expression, something between smug and scornful. “I’ve
heard the rumours at court. Marrying you is not the honour it might have been a year ago.”

Now she really had to hold herself back. It was hard. “Do not press me today, Jianjun, I’m
feeling a little tetchy, and I would love the opportunity to release some of my ire.” She leaned
back slightly to look him up and down. “You are hardly a catch, either. Your father would at
least come with men and money.”

That one hit home, she could see the muscle in his jaw flex.

“I don’t want to marry you,” he said. “Although I will. But if we do wed, it will not be
consummated. Understand?”
While she was pleased that wasn’t something she needed to worry about, she was also
somewhat insulted. He should be lucky to marry her. “Why? Are you only interested in
boys?” she asked bluntly. She was beginning to enjoy this back and forth. Every time a verbal
barb hit, it gave her a thrill.

He snorted. “I’m not interested in boys at all. I just don’t want to fuck you.”

She narrowed her eyes. Now she was definitely offended. Not that she had any interest in
him, that wasn’t the point. If he even thought to make an advance on her, she would have
flambéed him. Strangely, her indignation had not lessened the enjoyment. He was presenting
her with a puzzle and the payoff to figuring it out might be the opportunity to completely
crush him.

Perhaps the fact that she could kill him with a single breath was putting him off, or perhaps it
was something else. It was interesting that he had not reacted angrily to her accusation of
perversion. People did, usually. Either to hide the fact they did like boys, or because of the
insult of being associated with such a thing. He didn’t appear to feel shamed by her words.

“You don’t care I accused you of sleeping with men?” She smiled, sharp and savage. “You
don’t consider that law to be a worthy one?”

He smirked back at her. “You worried I will be going after your new lapdog?” Unfortunate he
knew about Kazuma, or suspected. But not that surprising. “I won’t.” Jianjun continued,
leaning back and resting one hand against her covers. “I don’t care who anyone fucks, as long
as it’s not me. Understand?”

She was not sure she did, but she would, that was for certain. “What do you want, Jianjun?
Speak plainly.”

“I want what my father has.”

“I think you are supposed to wait until he dies for that,” she said with a smirk of her own.

He ignored her. “You help me, I’ll help you,” he said, leaning forward, his gaze intense.

“I don’t need your help.”

“You might. And a united front will look good. If we walk together over the ashes of the city
after we raise it to the ground, people will have to take notice.”

Like she would need his help to burn a city. Like having some lordling at her side would
make her look better. “We’re not raising it to the ground,” she said, tapping her chin with a
finger. There might be other ways he could be useful. If she wanted to earn reluctant allies,
then she would need to save the city, not crush it. And she was currently missing the
antagonist necessary for that bit of theatre. She had been considering forcing Kazuma to do it,
but he lacked the menace the role required. She was sure he could be ruthless when called
for, but he was just too morally fixed to be flexible enough for the part. The bits that might
involve killing a few civilians or setting the lower city on fire would be hard for him to
stomach. Jianjun probably would not have any such concerns. He might just work.
She leaned back and crossed her legs, ignoring the twinges from her traitor body. “Actually,
there might be something you could do.”

………………..

War councils with Wei and Huang were becoming increasingly difficult. They had sent
messages to the Earth King as soon as they were a reasonable distance from the city, but they
had only just received an answer. It had not been as expected; it was welcoming—in that the
Earth King was grateful for their presence, but there had been no invitation for Wei or his
emissaries to enter the city. In fact, the suggestion of a council with the king had been
soundly dismissed.

With an army of Fire Nation soldiers to the north and more amassing to the south, all clearly
preparing for attack, you would have thought talking to the generals planning to defend your
city would be the sensible option. But apparently not. Hakoda was getting a little sick of the
Earth Kingdom and her complicated politics.

Their other problem was the staggering number of refugees that had joined their ranks as
non-combatants. There was not enough food to feed so many people. All Hakoda’s
complaints about using his boats for fishing were long since forgotten. They couldn’t find
enough fish. And the people themselves also presented a problem; they needed to be
protected from the armies to either side. It was a ridiculous way to begin a campaign, but to
send them away was to invite them to die. And even with battle looming, trying to get them
to leave the relative safety of the Earth soldiers was proving difficult.

This had become less of an army planning an attack and more of a rescue mission.

Aside from the obvious problems, the adjustment to having so many women and children in
the camp was also complicated. Qinwen and the Kyoshi Warriors had taken over the
women’s camp, keeping order and offering protection.

In the early days, an upsetting number of soldiers had been disciplined, and there had been
two executions for unforgivable acts. But people were getting used to it. A lot of the
hardened soldiers seem to have been lifted up by the presence of the children, despite their
suspicion and general dislike of the changes. Children were so quick to adapt to their new
circumstances, and the women were not only learning to fight but also becoming essential
parts of camp life—doing inventory, keeping order, arranging discipline. It was clearly not
how things had been run before, but Hakoda couldn’t help but feel it was better.

The other issue was the people between them and the wall. The Fire Nation was camped
closer to the city than they were, and those people were sitting turtle ducks. Hakoda felt
guerrilla tactics might be their best option, to sabotage and whittle down the enemy. Huang
was dead set against it, wanting an open battle. Wei seemed somewhat on the fence.

Hakoda missed Shen. Having just one person from the Earth camp on his side would be nice.
But Shen was gone. Hopefully in the city, and not trapped outside it with the folk Hakoda
was worried would soon be slaughtered without quarter.

“We can’t sacrifice our own people,” Wei said. “We need to find a way to get them away
from the walls.”

Huang leaned forward, resting one elbow on the low table. “That is surely what the Fire
nation wants,” he said. “To hamper us with even more refugees, to separate us. We would
need to send many men if we were to herd and protect that many people.”

Hakoda sighed. They had been arguing this same point for days. “I’m sure the Fire Nation
would also enjoy slaughtering the non-combatants in front of us, or having them become
caught up in the battle. Either the city opens her gates and lets them in, or that is what’s going
to happen,” he said. “We only have two short miles on the ships to the city, but-” He shook
his head. “We are better off stopping their reinforcements from coming upriver. It might be
preferable if we go back to the mouth of the waterway that runs down to the city.”

“Oh! Sorry!” They all turned to look at the girl in the tent entrance. She was carrying a tray
with a mismatched teapot and cups. “Sorry, I was supposed to get this to you before you
started!” she said.

“Come in, Mai Lee,” Huang said. “Serve us the tea.”

It was wrong to pick favourites from the refugees, but Mai Lee had just touched something in
Hakoda. She was probably the same age as his daughter, with big, dark eyes and an infectious
smile. Her brown hair was held back in a long braid that swayed behind her as she entered the
tent. When she had arrived it had been longer, but portions had been burnt, and Qinwen had
cut it while the girl cried.

She knelt and began pouring the tea. She was a little haphazard in her tea making, but
everyone always seemed so charmed by her youthful enthusiasm and sunny demeanour that
no one ever called her out on it. Even Huang seemed to enjoy her presence.

Like many others, she had blossomed with a little time and safety. She had arrived tattered,
burned and weeping, but slowly she had begun to come out of her shell. Showing a warmth
and intelligence that reminded Hakoda so much of Katara.

“Thank you, Mai Lee,” he said with a smile. She grinned back at him, completely breaking
any sort of protocol.

They waited for her to leave before they continued, but it had been a reminder of the vitality
and importance of all these people whose fate they were discussing.

“We can not support more civilians, even if we did manage to get them away from the walls,”
Huang said.

Hakoda sighed internally. He almost wished The Fire Nation would just attack them so they
could escape from this endless argument.
Later, with no decisions made, Hakoda met with Ruoxi, the current leader of the Kyoshi
Warriors in Suki’s absence. He liked to touch base with her and Qinwen about matters in the
women’s camp, and sometimes they watched the weapon training together. Ruoxi with a
critical interest, and Hakoda often with some amusement, as Bato had been bullied into
giving a few lessons with his spears. Watching him be enthusiastically hit with sticks by the
trainees was endlessly amusing.

Today it was Arms Master Fu and swords. Watching him being hit by sticks was entertaining
for other reasons. Mai Lee was in training today, too. She was swinging her weapon around
and laughing like there wasn’t a war on at all. She was not skilled with a blade, and most of
the teachers they had set up just seemed to indulge her whimsical nature. Even Fu seemed
taken with her.

“She’s lying, you know,” Ruoxi said as they watched. She was a pragmatic girl with a calm
nature and sharp wit. She didn’t sound concerned while making that accusation, just focused
on gently cleaning her fans.

“How so?” Hakoda asked.

“She can fight. You can see it in how she moves. Maybe not with a sword, but she can fight.”
Ruoxi shrugged. “Doesn’t mean anything. Lots of reasons a young girl travelling alone might
try to hide her skill until she needs it.”

“Look, Chief Hakoda!” Mai Lee called, swinging her wooden blade indiscriminately at Fu,
who deflected it casually and then went about teaching her to hold it better. It was a good
thing it wasn’t steel or training would be a bloodbath.

Hakoda smiled at her. He couldn’t help it. “That’s true,” he said to Ruoxi. She was looking at
him with a fond, but slightly mocking expression.

“And she knows exactly how to wrap every man here around her little finger. You have a
daughter her age, no?”

“Yeah.” He felt slightly sheepish. Ruoxi wasn’t wrong, he knew he was projecting his love
and concern for Katara onto the girl. But Hakoda also wasn’t stupid. None of the refugees,
even the brightest and friendliest, were allowed anywhere near their actual plans. And
although he was charmed by her, and upset at the past she had hinted at, he was aware there
was more to her than sunny seeming innocence. Strangely, she had admitted it to him the first
day he had met her. He had been taking his turn helping to sort the influx of newcomers. The
higher ups in the Earth Army wouldn’t get their hands dirty, but everyone did their part in the
Water Tribe camps. Her hair and her clothes had been burned, although her skin had only
superficial injuries.

He had introduced himself while Qinwen cut her long hair.

She had sniffled, as loud as a buffalo yak with a cold. “I’m Mai Lee,” she had said. Then
looked him in the eye. “That’s not my real name.”

“Okay. You can use whatever name you like,” he had said, a little baffled. “Do you have a
reason for using a different one? You don’t have to tell me what it is.”

“Something horrible is going to happen to my best friend. So I’m going to use her name, to
remember.”

Much later, she had told him her friend was to be married off to a cruel older man, and there
was nothing either of them could do about it. Hakoda still wondered if that was the full story.
Why had she run and not her friend? Was the marriage actually hers? And who exactly was
the man? Was he Earth? She wasn’t old enough to marry in the Earth Kingdom, Hakoda had
checked with Wei. So could he be Fire? Was she from the colonies?

“At least this stray has a sunny personality,” he said, giving Ruoxi a little nudge with an
elbow. “Not like the last one.” Zuli had all the natural charm of a house fire.

“Hmm,” Ruoxi asked with a little smile. “There are some similarities, though. She doesn’t
look Fire or Earth, really. Could be either or both. But her accent is a little like Li’s, don’t you
think?”

Hakoda had been hoping he’d been imagining that, it was similar enough it should really
raise some concerns. But they had such trouble integrating the mixed folk into the camp—
even now, those who looked more Fire were at risk from attacks from other refugees and
soldiers alike. If she was mixed and could pass, he wasn’t going to mention it, and he didn’t
think Ruoxi would either. Despite the implied warnings, she liked Mai Lee, and they often
trained together.

Feeling a little discomforted, Hakoda said his goodbyes to the girl, waved to Mai Lee, who
was whacking Fu with her wooden stick while he tried to instruct her, and began his rounds
starting at the stables.

He liked to check in on the different sections of the camps and the people he considered his.
Haoyu was one of them. They hadn’t bothered to reassign him. No one wanted the
responsibility of taking a ‘cripple’ into battle. But perhaps fighting wasn’t where his future
lay. Both Haoyu and Jing, who was not able to exercise without losing her breath, had taken
up instruction from Panuk and Qinwen. They were doing well, and Hakoda was proud of the
determination they showed. Their restrictions were hard on them both. It was a lot to adjust
too, but he thought they could both thrive, not just survive.

Haoyu was working hard learning to walk with his crutches and beginning to train up a bird
to be his legs when he needed. They had tried Dumpling first, but she was too stubborn and
mean to offer the flexibility required, so now he had a younger, more mild-mannered hen to
work with. In honour of Zuli and his interesting name choice, and for her chestnut coloured
plumage, Haoyu had called her Red Bean. Not a name to inspire fear, but she was a docile
thing, well suited to Haoyu’s current needs. Dumpling had hated her on sight, and attempted
to gore her whenever anyone showed her any affection or even looked like they might be
thinking of petting her.
Despite this, Hakoda was coming to appreciate Dumpling’s character, as cantankerous as she
was. Some days, it felt like she was all he had left of his son. So he spoiled her. Something
which had the added benefit of reducing the amount of times he was bitten.

Hakoda petted Dumplings' mean beak as she tugged at his sleeve, looking for snacks. He had
the creeping feeling that the longer Wei and Huang argued and failed to take action, the less
choice they were going to have when the time came. There was a phantom itchy feeling
under his skin, a need to do something. The best he could do was prepare his own people. It
didn’t feel like it was going to be enough.

…………………..

Sokka was sitting close to where their camp used to be. Or he thought he was. Beside him
Katara was silent, head bowed, and Aang had his mud streaked face tipped up to the sun.

Sokka kept having to take deep breaths to force down the feeling of drowning, the gasping,
desperate struggle for air. The horror of the water was keeping him teetering between the here
and now and the boat. The memories as vicious as the burst river had been.

But he couldn’t afford to let it go. To let himself go. He couldn’t explain it to Katara and
Aang. There were at least a few things he could keep them safe from.

Aang was ashen and subdued, and Sokka’s heart ached for him. Each of his losses seemed to
compound the last. Zuko and Toph, Appa, Momo, everyone he had known as a child, his
people, his culture. It was too much to think about.

To Sokka’s other side, Katara was silent and still, head down. Sokka’s pack still held tightly
in her hands. He wasn’t really sure how to help her. After the horror of the rushing water,
when it bubbled over his head, stealing his voice and his air, with Aang clinging to him as he
truly battled the elements, using everything he had to save them both. After that, when the
water had subsided enough they could follow it back to where they guessed the camp had
been. After that, it had been hours before they had found Katara. She had Sokka’s pack, and
nothing else but the clothes on her back.

Aang had called out her name, full of relief. Sokka’s own had practically strangled him and
stolen his voice, the same as the river had.

The expression on her tear-streaked face was one he would never be able to wipe from his
mind. It would keep him up at night, as much as the inarticulate cry she had made, part rage
and part grief. She had run to him and completely lost it. He had no barometer for the
complete loss of control. She had screamed incoherently and struck him repeatedly in the
chest with her fist and the bag. It had taken him a few moments to pull her in and restrain her
with his arms as she continued to sob and scream. Behind her, Aang had looked horrified,
like he couldn’t handle even one more moment of grief.
Sokka understood. Katara had thought he had drowned. Again. He didn’t know what he
would have done in her position. He probably wouldn’t have been able to pull himself
together as quickly as she had.

Then they had realised Momo was gone too. And that had been the last straw for Aang, he
had cried so hard Sokka had been unable to offer any comfort, although he held him.

And now they were just sitting. Each trying to pull themselves together to do something.
Such fear of the Fire Nation, but it was some fucking rain that had taken them out? The
universe really did like to shit on him sometimes.

As his personal horror and fear lessened, the dread and loss crept into its place, like ice into
cracks in a wall. He had to believe Zuko survived. In fact, he was pretty certain on some level
he did believe that. He wouldn’t just drown, he was far too stubborn to just die in an accident.
Zuko was currently winning two to zero over bodies of water, and Sokka suspected he was
going for the hat-trick. He hoped. He had to, or he would just stop functioning.

Toph was another issue, though, more of a concern. He could see it on Katara’s face, the
drawn expression on Aang’s pallid skin. She couldn’t swim, and without her feet on the
ground, she couldn’t see. The sound of her frightened scream was going to haunt all three of
them.

If he could, Sokka knew Zuko would have helped, though. He would do whatever it took to
help someone he had formed an attachment to. Sokka could personally testify to that.

Sokka’s own fear was clawing at him. But he couldn’t let it tear him down. He had to do
exactly what Zuko would do. Get up and carry on. Be mad about it, sure, but channel that
anger into getting them into the city.

“Okay, up we get,” he said. He didn’t try to make his voice cheerful, or even optimistic. He
knew he sounded grim. “Let’s make an inventory of what we have, figure out the best way to
cover the most ground, and get to the city.”

They just had Sokka’s pack. Aang and Katara’s things were gone, the shoes Aang had been
wearing were gone, their tents were gone, the schematics, left under the packet of salt, were
gone. He would have to work out how they were going to convince the Earth King without
them. They might have to use Aang after all, although he couldn’t shake the feeling that
would be a mistake.

On the plus side, in Sokka’s pack was the money Shen and Taiju had given them. They were
going to need it, perhaps to get them into the city, and certainly for food. That was another
clawing fear.

If push came to shove, perhaps Aang could earthbend them into the city, although he was still
in the early stages of learning, so Sokka didn’t know what sort of risk they would be looking
at.

“They’ll head for Ba Sing Se,” Sokka said. There was no if they survived. What was the
point? “It’s the most sensible thing to do. Let’s walk.”
The rain had abated, leaving the sky blue and cheerful. Mocking them as they moved over the
still sodden ground. There were bodies along the way. Animal and human, not yet starting to
smell, but it wouldn’t take long. Katara insisted on checking them all for signs of life. So far
there had been none.

The walk was not as quick as it could have been. Katara had offered Aang her socks which
offered some protection, but even so his pace was notably slower than it otherwise would
have been. Sokka felt extremely lucky to still have his own boots, and he wasn’t taking them
off again. Not ever.

It wasn’t a comfortable walk. They stayed away from the river as they no longer needed it to
navigate. They could see the high walls of the city looming on the horizon and getting closer.
It was huge. Like nothing Sokka had seen before, even Agna Qel’a didn’t come close.
Although he suspected the architecture of the Northern tribe’s city would be far superior to
Ba Sing Se, which from this distance just seemed to consist of big and strong.

Everyone was hushed, lost in their own thoughts and fears. Sokka was trying hard not to
think about Zuko. About their argument. About the fact he wouldn’t wake tomorrow with his
friend’s breath on his skin, or warm heavy arms draped around him.

And Toph. The fear of her loss was greater. It was almost like they all just kind of assumed
the river couldn’t kill Zuko, that he would fight it so hard he would just live.

Not that Toph wouldn’t. She could have used earthbending to get herself out of trouble. She
might have saved Zuko, rather than the other way around. But it was her scream that echoed
in all their ears as they walked, the thought of their missing friends dragging at their heels.

They could smell the refugee camp before they could see much more than a distant wall of
tents and stone structures. It was huge and sprawling and stank of people, animals, waste,
misery, and food. Somehow, the smell of cooking still managed to make Sokka’s mouth water
in spite of all the other smells. It was noisy, too, people talking, calling, babies crying, the
sound of livestock, arguments, clashing pans and somewhere in the distance, the sound of
many voices singing.

It was overwhelming, frightening and Sokka didn’t think any of them wanted to actually go
in, but no one was going to stop, either. First, they paused to do their best to disguise Aang’s
tattoos. The choice was cake mud to his head, or sacrifice some clothing. As Katara had
already given up her socks, it was up to Sokka to offer up something. He tore off the bottom
of his undershirt and wrapped it around his friend’s head. Both of them lacked the enthusiasm
a disguise usually inspired.

Then they headed for the area that seemed to be the entrance to the camp. They were ushered
into what seemed to be a line of people through the chaos.

“Stay to the right,” a rough-looking man said, gesturing with a spindly arm. “Stay to the
right.”

They stayed in line, but for what, Sokka wasn’t sure. It didn’t look any more organised from
inside the ‘gates’ of the tent city, but anyone who tried to leave was ushered back.
A tired, annoyed looking woman was walking the line. When she approached them, she
paused. “New?” she asked.

“Er, yeah,” Sokka replied.

“Parents? Carers?”

“Nope.”

The woman sighed, looking more annoyed. “Three of you together?”

Katara squished them all a little closer. “Yes,” she said firmly.

“Right, follow me.”

Sokka wasn’t sure if they should or not. He supposed if she was actually part of some child
stealing organisation, Aang and Katara could probably flatten them with a wave of their
hands. It might do them both some good to have something to fight.

There was no fighting. The woman led them through what seemed to be a bustling market,
and further in, towards the wall. Now they were inside the main areas, it was obvious inside
the chaos was a functioning society. As well as shelters people had created for themselves,
there was a line of makeshift stalls, an area for the sick, places to go where people helped
each other where they could. In fact, there seemed to be systems in place to process new
arrivals and to protect the vulnerable, to some extent at least.

The women led them to a fenced off area, with a few dusty, slightly grumpy looking guards.

“This area is for the unaccompanied. Under sixteen’s only. You’re free to come and go as you
please, but if you sleep here, it’s safer.”

For the first time in his life, Sokka was happy to be small for his age. He bet Zuko would
never be taken for younger than he was. Although Shen often made fun of him for being
short, so maybe boys in the earth kingdom just got taller quicker or something. Or Sokka was
so super extra short he made Zuko look tall. The idea was annoying.

He was clearly scowling, as the woman was looking at him funny. “Thanks,” he said,
although he had lost track of what she had been saying.

“And you get one meal free a day,” she said. “It’s all you’ll get without money, but you might
be able to find work.” She looked them over carefully. Aang was hobbling again. He liked
being barefoot and practised with Toph without shoes all the time. But a long march without
footwear was different, and although airbending his steps to keep them light helped, he was
clearly still in pain. His feet had been bruised and cut the last time they had stopped for a rest,
and Katara had healed them. But he was limping again. The socks were a little too big and
flopped around his ankles in a way that in other circumstances would have been cute. Or
perhaps it was cute, cute enough for this woman to take pity on them.

“Do you need someone to look you over?” she asked Aang, eyeing his socks. “I don’t think
we have any spare shoes, but I’ll ask.”
“I’m okay. Just a little sore from the walk.” He gave her a tired smile that was about one
eighth of his usual sunshine. But she seemed charmed by it, anyway.

Then she turned to scrutinise him and Katara intensely. “You from the colonies?” she asked at
last. “Not seen eyes like yours before.”

“No, Kyoshi Island,” Sokka said. “It’s to the west. Got Water Tribe blood, apparently.” He
smiled at her with all the charm he could muster.

“Oh, right.” She nodded, looking relieved. “We have a lot from the colonies. It causes issues,
sometimes.”

He bet it did. He hoped if… when Zuko made it here he didn’t get any trouble for his eyes.
But that was probably too much to hope for.

“Give your names at the door. The guards will let you in and out. You should try to be back
by sundown. Sometimes they won’t let kids in after dark.”

“Thank you for your help,” Aang said, giving her another smile, this one was a shade brighter
than the last.

She grunted at them, already heading back out.

Another woman gave them a blanket, just one between the three of them, and three clay
bowls of Jook. She gestured for them to go find a spot to sit.

There were not many options under the sheltered areas. So, as it wasn’t currently raining,
they took a seat near the back wall. It was exposed to the elements, but there were fewer
people.

They sat. Sokka felt shocky. Exhausted and like he wasn’t functioning. The noise of the camp
was constant, like the buzz of insects, but he had become used to the smell already.

They all ate their rice. It tasted like it was flavoured with dried ginger and maybe some sort
of musty wild garlic. But at least it had a flavour. They huddled under their blanket and
Katara carefully healed Aang’s feet, keeping her actions hidden.

“Right,” Sokka said, after a long, long silence, during which darkness began to fall and the
sound of the camp changed, but grew no quieter. “Right. We need a plan.”

“What plan?” Katara asked, her voice raw and wrong.

“Right,” Sokka said again. He had to pull himself out of it. They needed him. “Tomorrow, we
split up, check out the lay of the land. You two try to find out if there’s any way into the city,
I’ll search for our friends.”

“No,” Katara said, her voice much firmer. “It may take us longer, but we stay together. We
don’t take risks. If they’re here, we’ll find them. If there is a way in, we will find it. However
long it takes.”
Sokka wrapped his arm around her shoulders, tugging her in closer against him. “Okay. We
go together, all three of us. Let’s start with the kids here, we might be able to learn from
them. Then we’ll work our way back to where we came in and go from there.”

He couldn’t sleep. He didn’t think any of them could despite the exhaustion, the unfamiliar
sounds, the lingering fear from the water, which was still clinging to him, keeping rest at bay.

And he missed Zuko like it was an ache in his body, right to the bone.

……………..

Tu had known it was inevitable that killing soldiers would have repercussions. Perhaps they
hadn’t hidden the bodies well enough, perhaps they had missed one, and word had spread that
a group of ‘bandits’ were attacking troops. Whatever it was, they were being hunted.

The flash flood had torn up the landscape and torn apart groups of refugees and soldiers alike.
There had been a lot of bodies on the roads, or the fractured roads the river had left. Some of
the water had receded, but the valleys were still sodden and treacherous.

It hadn’t stopped the soldiers tracking them, though. It hadn’t stopped them from finding their
group. They had been clever about it too, lured them in with the irresistible bait of people in
trouble. Jet and the Freedom Fighters had, of course, attempted to rescue them, just another
ragtag group of refugees being attacked by a small group of armoured men. Except, there had
been more soldiers waiting in the treeline, and now they were fighting wildly, outnumbered.
They were going to die here.

It was a familiar thought, and a familiar feeling of desperation. All Tu could think as he
clumsily parried a strike from a sword was that Ying’s baby would never get to be born. How
was that fair?

He stumbled, falling to one knee and resisting the urge to close his eyes and just let the next
blow fall. Instead, he gathered his Chi, ready to do what he had to. But he let it go again in
shock as the earth rumbled under his bent knees. The soldier looming above him fell as the
ground bent sickeningly beneath his feet.

Tu stared in terror. Earthbending. He’d heard horror stories of what men could do, the way
they could kill. Of course, Haoyu had been a bender, and he had seemed … nice. But that was
there. This was in a fight. Tu held onto the grass as the land shook, clinging with panic, too
disorientated with fear to even grab his own Chi back.

Still on his hands and knees, he turned around in time to see his attacker sent flying with a
smack of earth that shot up from the ground. Tu braced himself, expecting the same.

It never came. He sucked in air. Other soldiers were tumbling, but not the Freedom Fighters.
Belatedly, Tu remembered he was on the same side as the earthbending rescuers. He gulped
in another huge breath and looked back at the battle.

His eyes widened again. Fighting almost back to back with Jet was another boy, his face
wrapped in a green cloth. But Tu recognised the Blue Spirit’s Chi. He was dressed in browns
and greens and clearly without his mask, but there was no mistaking him. Beyond him was
another dizzying storm of energy, this time in the body of a child. The clothing style was
unfamiliar and he couldn’t tell if it was a girl or a boy from this distance. Their arms were
moving in short, sharp gestures, and he realised they were the source of the earthbending. Tu
blinked. How could something so terrifying come from someone so small? Their Chi
extended strangely, down through the ground, like the roots of a tree. He had seen something
similar before, but never quite like this.

He watched, mesmerised, as Jet and the Blue Spirit moved together to cut down the
remaining soldiers. Their styles of fighting were different, but there were similarities too, an
ease of motion that stood out among the combatants. The Blue Spirit looked like he had been
born with blades in his hands, Jet like he had fought to pick them up, and fought to keep
them; scrappy and savage. Both were frightening and beautiful to watch.

When the last red armoured man fell, there was a moment of silence, broken only by the
sound he made as Jet executed him with a knife across the throat, cool and efficient.

Tu picked himself up off the floor. His legs were shaky, and the fear was still swimming
through him in waves, but he made his way closer. He could see Than and Ying with
Longshot, speaking to the other refugees they had rescued, calming them. Like Tu,
Smellerbee seemed to be cautiously examining the newcomers.

Jets’s face was intent, impressed and intrigued. A small, half smile playing at the corner of
his mouth. “Thank you for your assistance. I’m Jet,” he said, full of warm confidence.

“Okay,” the Blue Spirit said. Then he stood there for a few moments, seemingly unsure of his
next move. Fighting seemed to come natural, the aftermath, not so much.

Jet was staring at him, perplexed, his mouth still amused and his lips twisted up into a small
smile.

The little earthbender snorted loudly. “This is the point that you introduce yourself back,” she
said. It was a girl, Tu thought, although he could be wrong.

The Blue Spirit hesitated again for a long moment that stretched uncomfortably. “Li,” he said
at last.

The Earthbender waved a hand rather vaguely at the gathered Freedom Fighters and refugees.
“I’m Toph. The greatest earthbender in the world.”

This close, Tu realised her eyes were filmy. He wasn’t sure if that meant she was fully blind
or just visually impaired in some way, but whichever it was, it made her bending with such
incredible precision more than slightly impressive.
Jet grinned at her. “And I am very grateful for your timely assistance, Master Toph. Your
bending was indeed the best I’ve seen.” His smile for her was a little cheeky. “I mean it.
Thank you both.” Then he turned back to Li, his grin morphing into something sharper, more
predatory, but still friendly. “Will you help us with the bodies?”

Li hesitated a moment. “What do you want us to do with them?” he asked. And Tu could feel
a cold sweat breakout over his skin. The Blue Spirit’s accent was Caldera. Wellborn Caldera,
but even so, it was recognisably similar to his own. He could see it in the way Smellerbee’s
eyes met his, one of her brows raised.

“Earthbending could help us get rid of the soldiers,” Toph said. Causally for a kid. Like the
bodies didn’t matter. Perhaps death was less shocking if you couldn’t see it.

Jet nodded, eyes still on Li. “You don’t need to cover your face around us. You colony born?
Mixed?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Li muttered, unconvincingly.

Thankfully, Jet seemed to take the tone of his voice as embarrassment. “There’s no shame in
it,” he said. “We don’t have the choice in how we get made.”

Li hesitated a moment longer, then tugged down his makeshift mask. His features were very,
very Fire Nation, and vaguely familiar. Jet’s words had meant that the people watching had
expected him to be of mixed blood, so his eyes were not a shock. They had not expected the
burn scar. It was large, ugly, and stark against his pale skin. Tu heard at least one person gasp.
But the Blue Spirit ignored it, stoic and staring Jet down challengingly.

Jet didn’t respond aggressively, his face easy and friendly. “Listen, we don’t have much, but
if you can help us bury or get rid of the dead, then perhaps we can feed you?”

“No,” Li said.

“Yes,” Toph said, louder. “Li, shut up. We can help, then get food. I’m not eating grass
again.”

“It wasn’t grass. It was an edible weed.”

“It was grass, Grumpy.” The girl grinned.

“I’m not grumpy, that’s just my face!” It had the sound of a familiar argument.

“I can’t see your face, dumbass.”

Which answered Tu’s question about her sight. Li huffed, looking the picture of someone
who was named grumpy. Jet chuckled at them. “Come on then, Li, you help me. Than, gather
the bodies. Toph, you can blast a big hole for us to dump them in.”

“Now you’re speaking my language!”

The dead buried, they had walked on to a suitable camping spot. The other newcomers, those
that they had been trying to rescue, had added their supplies to the communal pot. Li and
Toph had nothing, but they were owed a meal for their timely help. Tu wished they weren’t.
He wanted Li gone. Ying had already asked if they were from the same village, as he had
helped her walk over uneven ground.

Tu was hard pressed to focus on anything other than the desperate hope Li couldn’t bend. If
he could firebend…if Jet found out… then they were both screwed. The anxiety was filling
him so full he felt like he was going to burst.

He kept his eyes on the other boy as much as possible, but found that the scar distracting. It
was awful, deep. Under it, the boy still seemed familiar, somehow. It was itching at him, but
Tu couldn’t stop looking at his injury. He had seen plenty of burns in the past few months,
but not on his own people. It was terrible, disgusting, to think that he found that more
shocking than some of the horrors he had seen or participated in. He shuddered, his mind
flashing back to the farmer he had killed. Murdered. An innocent Earth Kingdom man. He
tried to push the feelings down and away, but they lingered, like a bad dream he would never
wake from.

Later, having made camp, they sat around a fire and shared food. There were over a dozen
people in their group now. Aside from the Freedom Fighters, they were mostly adults, but
they looked to Jet for leadership just the same.

Toph was grinning and relaxed. Her strange use of Chi was fascinating. Tu had never seen
anything to that extent before. It seemed to spread so wide with so little effort; he watched it,
mesmerised. He hoped he would get a chance to ask her about it privately.

Li still looked sullen, his body language closed off and uninviting. Jet was being respectful of
the ‘stay away’ signals, but he was clearly very curious, and Tu thought he was also hopeful
of keeping them around. Even without knowing Li was the Blue Spirit, those sword skills
would be beyond useful. Although it was Toph that Tu felt would be the most invaluable—
and that wasn’t just because of the waves of fear that Li’s presence brought him.

“So, Li,” Jet leaned forward, not quite in Li’s personal space, but close enough, the other boy
inclined away slightly. “That was impressive fighting. Where did you learn it?”

Li shrugged, scowling at his food.

Undeterred, Jet took a sip from his own bowl. “I haven’t met many people so good at
wielding dual blades.”

Li shrugged again.

“The Blue Spirit does, by all accounts.” Jet said. Li didn’t respond, but the lack of reaction
seemed rather loud. There was a gleam in Jet’s eye, like when he was plotting out a plan. “Tu,
you saw the Blue Spirit fight, didn’t you?”
Tu blinked, surprised and not enthused about being added to the conversation. “Er, yeah,” he
said. “I was in East Lake. And he was there. Helping an Earth Kingdom captain break out his
soldiers.”

Li stared at him, clearly having recognised his accent in turn.

Tu was torn. He felt he should let Jet know that his guess was correct, but if he had
confirmation Li was the Blue Spirit, he might never let him go. And Tu really, really needed
him gone.

“Why were you in East Lake?” Toph asked from Li’s left.

Tu shrugged, then realised the girl couldn’t see him. “I was just in the wrong place at the
wrong time when they were taking prisoners,” he hedged.

“Really?” Toph said. “Do tell.”

He couldn’t help but feel that she could see through him, somehow, even though she couldn’t
see him at all. It made him feel itchy again, so he considered what to say next carefully. His
sister had always said the best lie had as much truth in it as possible. “The Fire Nation killed
my father,” he said bitterly. That was a truth. “They took my mother and sister. I have no one
else.”

Toph nodded, apparently satisfied, but Jet leaned over and squeezed his knee. He was a
physically affectionate person. It always felt surprising when he gave Tu such casual gestures
of touch and warmth. “You have us now, Tu. We will stick by you.” He paused, turning back
to the two newcomers. “And you have Li now, of course. You have a very similar way of
speaking.” He smiled. No threat, just friendly. But Tu could feel a noose around his neck.

“We are from...” Li said, pausing awkwardly for several beats too long. “...the colonies.”

“Spirits above,” Toph muttered. “Now I get why Snuggles despairs of you. I am from
Gaoling. Have you been?”

“Never had the pleasure,” Jet smiled at her. “Is it still free?”

“Eh,” Toph waved a hand from side to side. “Officially, yeah. But I got the impression some
of our taxes might be heading to coffers that don’t go to the Earth King, if you get my drift.”

“I can’t understand traitors,” Jet growled. His whole demeanour shifting, a furious maelstrom
of dark promise. Li tensed, looking at him different, fully alert to the obvious threat even
though it wasn’t directed at him. His nostrils flared slightly, and even Toph seemed watchful.
As quick as it had come, the moment passed. “At least in Ba Sing Se they understand the
war,” Jet said. “We can be safe there.”

“It’s not safe,” Li said. “We have to go anyway. But… it’s not safe, do not make the mistake
of thinking it is. They will attack it, and they might well take it. If they don’t right away, it
will be besieged again.” He scowled into their fire. The flames stayed steady, though.

“If it’s attacked, we will defend it,” Jet said firmly.

The intense moment was broken by a screech from the growing darkness beyond their camp,
and all the gathered people tensed. Tu just had time to think it sounded like a wounded
animal, before a small dark shape hurled itself out of the gloom and straight at Toph. People
shouted, some scrambling to their feet in an attempt to avoid it.

Li reached out and caught it before it could touch her, his eyes wide. She seemed unruffled.

“Is it a wolf bat?” someone muttered fearfully.

The thing made a chirping noise. “No,” Li said. “It’s Momo! He’s just dirty.” He pulled the
thing close to his chest and began to brush it down with one hand, revealing lighter fur under
what seemed to be mud.

It was some sort of long-limbed flying creature that Tu had never encountered before. It
stared at him with wide, unblinking eyes. Tu wasn’t sure he liked it and averted his own gaze
in time to see a very complicated expression on Jet’s face. Recognition. Anticipation maybe,
concern? Tu glanced toward the other Freedom Fighters to find similar expressions on their
faces.

“Is it yours?” Jet asked. The Momo bared its teeth at him and he stared it down.

Tu knew he was missing something, but he had no idea what it might be. Li seemed
oblivious, busy cleaning the creature’s fur carefully. Toph reached out a hand and petted it on
the head. “He’s upset,” she said.

“Yeah,” Li agreed. “He’s not ours, as such.” He glanced at Toph. “Anyone else close?” he
asked hopefully.

She looked focused for a moment, her Chi extending impossibly wide. Then she shook her
head. “Nope. Just Momo.”

“Excuse me,” Ying said, eyes a little wide and her skin pale. She had a funny expression on
her face too, but different. “I think the baby is coming.” She sounded very calm, considering.
They had been hoping to reach the city before she went into labour, but clearly it was not to
be.

“Right,” Jet said, full of confidence, as always. “Let’s get you set up at a separate fire,
somewhere sheltered.” Tu had no idea how he could be so calm about this development. How
either of them were.

“You can leave that to me,” Toph said, getting to her feet. “I can build you something.” She
rubbed her little hands together.

Jet nodded, pleased. “Than, boil water in our pot and bring it to us. Smellerbee, Longshot,
and Bao, you keep watch, please. Tai and I will help Ying, if that’s okay?”

It seemed he had prepared for this in his mind. He was ready to take charge and get things
done. It was always really impressive and Tu felt the overwhelming urge to please him when
he was so assertive.
Tu had been left out of the instructions, but Jet knelt in front of him. “You keep an eye on the
new guys, okay?” he said, voice low.

“Yeah. You know how to do this?” Tu asked, a little awed. Jet really could do everything.

“Sure,” Jet said, but there was a flash of uncertainty. He tipped his lips into something of a
smile. “Well, lambs. I’ve birthed lambs. But it can’t be that different, right?” He rose to his
feet, and he and the others moved away from the group.

This was an opportunity, and Tu would be a fool to ignore it. “Li?” he asked. “Will you help
me take the dinner things to the water and wash up? I need someone to watch my back.”

Li considered for a moment, before nodding. Momo didn’t resist as Li draped him over a
shoulder and bent to pick up the dishes and cups. Tu watched him, taking the time to really
look him over. His hair was cut short, and Tu wondered if it had been shorn like his had, or if
he kept it like that for personal or practical reasons. Captain Shen had his hair short too. Tu
just couldn’t imagine cutting it by choice. Even when not fighting, Li’s Chi was bright and
distracting, a chaotic mass. Very different to Toph. Toph was centred, even with the strange
way it went beyond her body, there was order to her energy. Li’s was wild, untamed and
unstructured.

It was so bright, Tu was a little nervous to even try to touch him, like he might be burned by
it. But he didn’t think the other boy would answer honestly if he asked if he could firebend.
So once they were out of sight of the camp, Tu reached out and grabbed Li’s wrist. Li startled
and jumped, dropping some of the bowls to the floor with a clatter of old, bent tin.

“Don’t touch me!” Li snarled, full of real menace.

Tu just looked at him, his skin had been hot and vital. “You can bend. Firebend. If they find
out, you’re dead, and so am I,” he said quietly. “They mustn’t find out!”

Li took a few deep breaths, still looking like he might attack at any moment. “Don’t touch me
again,” he said at last. “Or you will regret it.”

Tu believed him. He was utterly terrifying, but still not as frightening as Jet finding out. He
did feel guilty, though. Touching people without permission was very rude, unforgivably so
for the highborn. “Sorry,” he said. Although it wasn’t really enough.

“You can’t even bend,” Li said sullenly, squatting to pick up the items he had dropped,
shaking dirt and mud off them, rather pointlessly as they were just going to go in the water.

Tu glanced back towards the camp, but it was silent and still, hidden by the trees. He stopped
breathing out his heat and reached for his Chi, lighting a small flame on his palm for a second
before snuffing it. Dramatic effect was all well and good, but not worth getting killed over.
Even so, just the feel of its warmth flooding him for a moment was almost overwhelming. He
missed it so much.

“Your skin was cool,” Li said, his brow furrowed and his voice full of interest.
“Yeah. I’m going to teach you how to do it. If you want to stay with us to the city, you can’t
risk getting caught.” He nodded for them to keep walking towards the water they had passed
earlier. “Jet’s a touchy feely person. Eventually he’s going to slap you on the back and feel
your fire.”

Li hummed with agreement, setting down his armful of bowls by the edge of the pool. The
water was dark and still, the smell of fresh grass and churned mud was strong. Even after
weeks in the Earth Kingdom, it still seemed alien. Different.

Li plucked the... Momo off himself and dunked it in the water. It made an unhappy screech
but submitted to being gently cleaned. “Tell me while I wash, then we practise.”

Tu squatted down and began rinsing out the bowls. “What is your... thing?” He pointed at
Momo. It was holding onto Li’s hand with its two creepy looking front paws. Its fingers were
too human like, long and strong where they gripped Li’s. Tu made a face at it.

“Flying lemur,” Li said. “His name is Momo and his favourite foods are fruit and bugs.”

“Uh huh,” Tu said, still a bit dubious. “I’ll explain it to you, and then we practise, okay?”

“Alright.” Li turned to sit opposite Tu, legs crossed. He was scowling, but he seemed
attentive. A flood of familiarity hit Tu again. It was making him think of his parents’
bedroom for some reason. The smell of the cosmetics his mother had used to hide the injuries
she had received in service, the bright sunlight coming in from the window. Tu had a sudden
desperate pang of homesickness, of longing for his mother’s warm arms and his sisters’
laughter.

“How long have you been… gone? From home, I mean,” he asked.

“Three years,” Li said. “Teach me.”

Li was a fast learner. He seemed almost surprised how quickly he got the hang of it, like he
had expected a battle. “And you do this all the time?” he asked, petting Momo’s head as it
slept. It looked more appealing now it wasn’t covered in mud or dripping wet and hissing.
Fluffy, kind of cute. Tu chewed his lip, distracted. Jet had recognised it, or the kind of animal
it was anyway. Tu didn’t really know how to ask more. Maybe Smellerbee would tell him?
She was easier to deal with in some ways, less intense.

“Tu?”

“Yeah,” Tu answered. “You get used to it. But I miss the warmth.” The comfort. He missed a
lot of things.

“I was travelling with soldiers for a while. Earth soldiers. I got used to not bending. But it’s
hard.”

“With Captain Shen,” Tu said, and Li’s eyes widened.

“I told you, I was at East Lake. I was imprisoned with his men. He seemed nice.”

“Yeah.” Li looked down at the little lemur thing in his arms, petting it carefully. “He’s a good
person. He was kind to me.”

“I saw you there, too. I can see your Chi. Doesn’t matter if your face is covered or if you
pretend to be someone else,” Tu admitted.

“Oh,” Li said. He didn’t question it. Like someone saying they could do that was normal. He
didn’t seem overly upset about the Blue Spirit thing, either. Or maybe he hadn’t decided how
he was going to react. “We should go back.”

Tu rose to his feet and held out a hand. Li took it. His skin was cool.

Jet, Ying and the others had still not returned by the time they reached the camp. Tu had no
idea how long it took to have a baby, or if it was dangerous to do it out in the middle of
nowhere. Babies were not something he had ever been exposed to and not knowing anything
about it made him worry. He hoped everyone was okay.

Toph had seated herself away from the remaining adults who were all clustered around the
fire. She looked subdued. Sad maybe.

“You took your time,” she said as they sat beside her. “It’s been hours. What were you
doing?”

“Tu was teaching me… something important.” Li reached out and touched her wrist. Her
eyebrows raised.

“Cool,” she said, with the ghost of a smirk.

Li seemed to miss the pun or ignore it. He was looking at his fingers with a furrowed brow. “I
don’t like it,” he said

“Tough,” Tu said. “You stay, you use it, okay?” He had started out assertive, but somehow
slipped into pleading by the end of his sentence. He wanted to kick himself.

Li narrowed his eyes threateningly, but it was Toph that spoke. “Seems sensible. Weird,
though. Never heard of anything quite like that.”

“You’re one to talk.” Tu smiled a little and realised she couldn’t see it. “Your Chi is very
unique.”

“Huh. You can see it? I met someone else who could. He was interested in the way it works
too. I use it to see, to feel the vibrations in the earth.” She stomped a little foot in the dirt.

“Could anyone do it? Or only earthbenders? Could I? A non-bender?” Tu had seen something
similar. Not like this though, not so big, so...organised was the wrong word, but the right
feeling. She knew what she was doing, it was an automatic thing, like sight or smell.

The girl leaned back and tipped her head up. “Maybe. Not the same, though. I use the earth to
amplify, to feel. But there is no reason someone couldn’t use something similar with another
element.”

“Would work well for water,” Li said.

“Yeah. I could see that. If you were in the water. Not sure about if you were on land, though.”

“We should ask Katara to experiment. Maybe when it rains?” Li didn’t really look like he
was paying much attention. His Chi was churning, and the fire, some fifteen paces away, was
waving brightly. Too brightly.

“Stop,” Tu whispered. “You can’t try it here! And you’re too aggressive.” Despite his own
words, Tu let his fire back into his body, relishing the rushing feel of it. He closed his eyes
and just felt. The air, his Chi. He wanted to try pushing it out a bit, but resisted. He might end
up affecting the fire the same as Li had. “Who’s Katara?” he asked, keeping his eyes closed
and still feeling. His Chi almost felt like it was shimmering inside his body. It was relaxing, a
form of meditation, but focused outward, rather than in.

“Our friend,” Toph said. “A waterbender from the Southern Tribe.”

“I thought they all died?” Tu said. Which, he realised belatedly, was a little tactless.

“I think the word you’re looking for is murdered,” Toph said mildly. “They missed one. And
apparently the North Pole is still full of them, so the Fire Nation did a pretty piss poor job if
they wanted to rid the world of waterbenders.”

“Yeah. I know about the North Pole.” Well, only a little. He knew his father had fought there.
Knew he had survived some sort of catastrophe, only to be killed by his own people. Tu
swallowed miserably. “I’m going to get some sleep. We can offer second watch.”

They seemed annoyed at him sticking close, but they didn’t tell him to leave. It would take
some time before Li would be able to maintain his cool body heat while he slept. So perhaps
they accepted that someone touching Li in his sleep would be a bad idea, and having an extra
body between them and discovery was not something to turn down.

“Toph?” Li said into the darkness some time later.

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay?” His voice was raspy, a little hesitant. “You seem…not okay.”

“That’s very observant of you, grumpy pants.” She paused and breathed out, a whisper of
sound. “I don’t think I killed anyone today. Not directly. But they died after I struck them.
Other people killed them but…”

“But you made it possible.”

 Tu had thought it strange she had been so dismissive. She had helped dispose of the corpses
with no complaint and had appeared entirely unaffected. But perhaps that had just been for
show, and it was hard to maintain in the quiet dark.

Li sucked in a breath of his own, letting it out. Tu couldn’t see more than his profile in the
dark as he stared up at the trees above them. “They made the choice to attack refugees,” he
said. “They made those choices. But…it’s a hard thing to think about. I know. I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault, is it?”

“I know that!” He made a nasally sighing noise. “I mean I’m sorry it happened.”

She shuffled a little. “Thanks.” There were more shuffling noises, and Li shifted, turning on
his side.

“Ugh,” Toph said, slightly muffled. “You’re cold. I don’t approve of the new you at all.
What’s the point in cuddling if you’re cold?”

“He’ll be a lot colder if he’s not breathing,” Tu pointed out. Half amused, and half stressed.
They really shouldn’t even think about it, let alone talk about it while in camp.

Li grunted at him. “Shut up, both of you,” he said. Before curling tighter around the girl. Tu
watched the strong lines of his back as his breathing became more even. He was jealous of
the casual touch. He missed the way he and Hua would snuggle in their bed when they were
younger and sharing a room. The feeling of safety and trust and knowing the bad stuff
couldn’t get you.

The thought of his sister made him think of his parents’ bed chamber again. The strange
sense memory Li’s Fire Nation face had brought up. He closed his eyes and imagined himself
back there, sitting at his mother’s desk. Her mirror, touching the cosmetics, the scent of the
powder. The faint smell of incense that lingered in their home. In his mind, he opened his
eyes. On the desk there were pictures, small painted portraits of him and Hua, very young,
both grinning. It had been hard to tell them apart at that age, and they had found it funny to
dress the same. Beside that was a picture of their parents on their wedding day. They looked
serious, but relaxed. Behind them, off to the left, was a small portrait of Fire Lady Ursa. The
other truly important person in Tu’s mother’s life.

Tu opened his eyes with a rush of breath, staring up at the trees, a few stars shining beyond
the branches hanging over them. That was it, the familiarity. That picture.

He didn’t think he was going to get much sleep that night.

Chapter End Notes

Some amazing art to share!

More fantastic art from the wonderful chaichai-draws:

The angsty Zuko and Sokka scene in the rain (for your pain needs) Here

Aang’s betrayal over the fact the boys are not dating (for your humour needs) Here

mmaurysiek has shared an amazing selection of pictures!

Zuko in the sun.

Here

Sokka and Zuko snuggling while sleepingHere

Azula and Kazuma Here

Hakoda and Sokka’s embrace, and Shen Here

Zuko and Sokka swimming to freedom in War Crimes Here

smallsinger5901 has shared some sketches of the Fire Siblings and their respective
confused adults.
Here

Please go give them some love!

Next Chapter:
Zhao makes some discoveries and decides to take matters into this own hands. Zuko
employs one of his special talents, with a little (a lot) of help from Toph. Sokka and the
Gaang finally get into the city. And Shen has an unexpected reunion (not that one, or
that other one) with unfortunate consequences.
 Chapter 36
Chapter Summary

Toph grinned over at Tu. “It’s a sad case.”

Chapter Notes

Many thanks to my beta burkesl17, who has managed to wrangle my dyslexic nonsense.
All mistakes are my own.

Thank you all for the amazing comments and kudos!

Warnings chapter 36
Crude, explicit but brief description of non-con and strangulation, internalised
homophobia, mild general homophobia, mild perceived threat of possible non-con
involving a minor, non-explicit implications of CSA (in the context of children being
sold to a brothel, no further detail)

Let me know if I have forgotten anything!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Things had not been going according to plan. It was an aggravating situation to be in and
Zhao was getting impatient with the status quo. He had not been chosen to wed Azula, and he
had been so certain he would be. Even thinking about it made his teeth clench and rage surge
through his body like a fire. Although, perhaps all was not lost. There were rumours the
princess was slipping out of favour, so maybe it wasn’t the disaster it had first appeared.
Jianjun’s sudden step up in the world might not be all it seemed. Zhao clung to that idea as if
he could will it into existence.

It was Ozai’s other spawn that was causing him the most aggravation. It had been some time
since he had received any report on Zuko, not knowing what the brat was doing was
concerning. And to add insult to injury, he had not found the leak in his network. He had
questioned both the girls who may have overheard him, but he couldn’t get too creative, as
the madam held too much power for him to damage her wares. He would get the bottom of it
though.

It was frustrating. He should be enjoying his time at court now his rank was finally of the sort
where he could rub shoulders with people of high birth. But he had all of this anxiety holding
him back. Even his social standing was playing on his mind, despite his success. It wasn’t
enough. He was itching to make a name for himself. He had to be acknowledged for being
superior to his peers. Their mediocrity was as tedious as it was predictable. If things had
gone his way in the North Pole, he would have had everything.

But it had not. He was the man known for losing the battle, not winning it.

He burned to be out there making his name, to put that right.

“Admiral?” His current first lieutenant bowed respectfully.

“Hisao,” Zhao acknowledged him, setting aside his brush for a moment. His report could
wait, it was tiresome anyway.

“There is a situation that might require your attention,” Hisao said. He was an upright,
serious man, less inclined to favour himself than Ro was, but ambitious and loyal, willing to
do whatever it took to get ahead. “A man scheduled for execution is asking for you.”

“Oh? What is his crime?”

“Desertion. He is a Lieutenant Zhiming. He was one of Ro’s men. The only reason he lives is
because he claims to have information for you.”

Zhao got a bad feeling deep in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t like doubt, and he suddenly
felt it like a creeping miasma. He liked betrayal even less. If this soldier really had deserted,
he would need to take action, and quickly. Those men knew things. If they were loose without
the fear of Ro holding them back….

He stood, teeth clenched. “Very well,” he said, his voice a little tense, but not showing the
depth of his anger and…concern. “Let us go and see him.”

Zhiming looked a mess. Eyes red rimmed, his body skinny and dirty. Clearly desertion had
not been kind to him. His time since being captured probably had not been either, traitors
were treated harshly. He was being kept in a windowless room that stunk of human waste.

He stood when he saw Zhao and gave a deep but shaky bow. “Admiral. Thank you for
coming. I have news.” He looked a little wild around the eyes. “Perhaps...?” he trailed off,
blinking and swaying.

Zhao pursed his lips. “Of course.” He turned to one of the guards. “Bring some food and
water, and let’s move to somewhere less smelly.”

“Thank you, Admiral,” Zhiming said as Zhao left him.

An hour later, slightly cleaner and shovelling rice into his mouth, Zhiming was now sat in a
much less unpleasant room. One with a table and window and thankfully not imbued with the
aroma of shit and misery.

It had not been a comfortable wait, dreading what the man was going to say, but now, with
Hisao standing guard outside, Zhao could relax a little. “So, tell me.”
“I didn’t desert. I was coming to find you, but I got lost,” Zhiming said through his rice.

Disguising. Even starvation was no excuse for such manners. Also, it was very obviously a
lie. “And what news were you bringing me?” Zhao asked, with only a thin veneer of
patience.

“Ro is dead.”

The words spread a coldness through Zhao’s body. “How?”

“The... prisoners killed him. They have joined the Avatar and are headed for Ba Sing Se.”

Zhao could feel his heart hammering in his chest. This was bad. Very bad. “And the rest of
the men?”

“We scattered. To see if we could bring you the news, of course.”

“Of course. Hisao?”

His man stuck his head through the door. “Admiral?”

“Bring the lieutenant some wine.”

“Thank you,” Zhiming said, eyes brimming with emotion.

“Tell me everything that has happened since you left the ship. Spare no detail, and no man. If
mistakes were made, it is better I know them.”

Zhiming closed his eyes for a moment, shuddering. Then he began, describing the beginning
of the hunt for the prisoners, how they had the unfortunate good fortune to bump into the
Water Tribe and Earth army. How Ro had watched, becoming more and more… bored. How
he had started entertaining himself with his own men.

Stupid indulgent behaviour. He was lucky he was dead. Zhao shook his head and handed over
the wine that Hisao delivered. “Then what?”

“He sent messages to Lao Fort, asking for men and supplies. He said the Blue Spirit was in
the camp. So Tsing sent what he asked.” Of course he had, the man’s hate for the vigilante
was at least as strong as Zhao’s. It would have been clever if it had worked.

“We attacked a village, killed most, kept some back as prisoners.” Zhiming swallowed again
and poured himself a shaky cup of wine. He poured one for Zhao too, almost as an
afterthought. “Ro asked to do an exchange for the boy.” He took a long sip of his drink,
making a pained face as he did so. “We killed or imprisoned the rescue party. Then we
attacked the camp. Ro used the herbs you gave him to make smoke. It stopped the bending,
same as it did in tea or tinctures.” Zhiming shuddered again.

Zhao felt fear and rage in equal measures. Ro had not been meant to use that so openly. It was
for transporting Zuko to him. He took a breath. “But the attack failed?”
“Yeah. Chen was supposed to find the boys and kill or take them. But they killed him.
Stabbed him in the back and slit his throat. We found the body. So then we had to wait
again.” He wet his lips, looking unhappy.

“And? What is bothering you?” Zhao said, keeping his voice low and coaxing. He couldn’t
see Zuko stabbing someone in the back. The boy was soft, always had been. Perhaps it had
been Hakoda’s whelp. “If it is Ro’s conduct, the man is dead. I need to know all the details.”

Zhiming nodded. “We had taken prisoners, and Ro... Ro liked having prisoners. But we only
had one of any rank. A captain. And Ro was beginning to question him. He said...” he paused
and glanced at Zhao, looking honestly terrified.

“Zhiming, I need to know. I am not a man so foolish as to shoot the messenger. I have to
know how bad things are in order to fix them.” Inside, he was squirming with fearful
anticipation. This felt like impending disaster.

Zhiming nodded again, obviously gathering his courage. “He said... he implied that you and
Acting Captain Ro had... had done things to the prince. He called Ro a child rapist.”

This was bad, but also the sort of thing a captured soldier might say to cause some trouble.
He told Zhiming as much before leaning back slightly. “Did Ro kill him?” At least let him
have done that right, before this captain had talked shit to anyone else.

“No, one of Tsing’s men pulled rank. Gave Ro an hour to ask his questions and then took
custody of the captain to be questioned back at Lao Fort.”

“Which man?”

“Captain Kazuma.”

Kazuma.

There was a cold pit in Zhao’s stomach, and he sat back in his seat. Zhiming was still talking,
describing how Kazuma had ordered the other prisoners to East Lake rather than let Ro have
them. And then how Ro had once again started hurting his own men in frustration. But Zhao
was only half listening.

There were too many thoughts in his head at once. Had Kazuma been playing him this whole
time? The idea was so infuriating it took his breath away, but competing with the bloody haze
of building rage that was turning his blood to flame was worry. What had happened to the
captain Kazuma had taken with him to Lao Fort. Had Tsing heard those rumours?

He picked up his cup. The wine was cheap and acidic, but the taste on his tongue settled his
nerves a little. The Blue Spirit had raided Lao Fort and East Lake. Freeing the captain and the
other prisoners, presumably.

“Stop talking,” he said to Zhiming, halting the man in his tracks, his mouth hanging open.
“Tell me more about what happened with Kazuma. Every detail.”
Zhiming once again started describing how Kazuma had wrest control from Ro once he had
arrived, and how upset that had made Ro, as well as some things he said he would do to the
other man.

“He called him a pervert? Why?”

Zhiming shrugged. “Just said he never took an interest in women or whores, that it wasn’t
normal. He didn’t have any evidence of wrongdoing,” Zhiming added scornfully. “He didn’t
need any to go after someone. He made stuff up all the time. Excuses. He was the pervert.”

This Earth captain had also accused Ro of abusing Zuko. Was it just shit stirring? Or had the
boy made that accusation? No, Zuko was too stupid to play a long game. If that’s what it was,
it was from the Water Tribe brat.

“Ro was a bad apple,” Zhao agreed. “What did the Earth Kingdom captain have to say? What
was his name?”

“Captain Shen of the 54th Company. He only gave his name, but Ro managed to keep back a
few of his men who... provided more information. Later, after East Lake, Ro watched them.
He thought the captain was bedding Zuko.” Again, he looked scornful.

“You don’t think he was?”

Zhiming took another swig of wine. His thin face was looking a little flushed. “No. The
captain was genuinely disgusted by the allegations. And he believed them. I don’t think he
would have done that.”

It was almost amusing that someone who had survived Ro’s unravelling had faith in some
Earth dog telling the truth.

“Do you believe the allegations?” Zhao asked.

“Of Ro? Yes. You, of course not,” Zhiming said, very sensibly. “When Captain Shen accused
Ro, he slapped him. It made him look guilty. Kazuma believed it too, I think.” He stuffed
some more rice into his mouth, washing it down with wine.

“I see. What made you think that?”

“He was upset. He was already angry at Ro because of the slaughter at the village. We killed
the elderly and children. It was distasteful. Kazuma was furious.” Zhiming glanced up at him
to gauge his reaction, and Zhao kept his face as solicitous as he could. “Kazuma has a
reputation for being a bit... fussy about these things,” he added.

“And what was Ro’s explanation for the excessive violence?” Ash and bone, the man was so
lucky he was dead. The things Zhao would do to him would make even his sadistic head spin.

“He said the orders came from you and you outranked both he and Kazuma. Kazuma dug his
heels in as much as he could over the prisoners, but he was too late to do anything about the
village.”
Kazuma did have a reputation for information gathering and delivering justice, of a sort.
Zhao had believed that he could use that for his own benefit, but what if it was him being
played? What if Kazuma thought this order had come from him? Or that he had abused his
prisoner? Far, far worse would be if he knew who the boy was. The thought was terrifying.
Had he learned anything from the prisoner he had taken? Presumably he had questioned him,
even if he didn’t employ Ro’s methods.

“Do you believe this Captain Shen knew who Zuko was?”

Zhiming shook his head. “The prisoners Ro questioned after Kazuma was gone didn’t. They
were shocked.”

Of course Ro had told them before they died, the stupid fool. “I presume they are now all
dead?”

“Yes, Admiral. Ro didn’t let any escape after Captain Shen was taken away from him.”

And then the Blue Spirit had raided Lao Fort, then East Lake. Rescuing the people who had
been taken. Foolish. If you had asked Zhao a year ago if it was the sort of thing Zuko would
do, he would have laughed. The boy was selfish, self-absorbed, arrogant, and not very bright.
But after the boat, Zhao had seen something else. He was needy under all that rage and
bluster. He had bonded with the Water Tribe boy, and gone to ridiculous lengths to protect
him.

That was still the way to get to him. He wondered if it might not be the way to get Kazuma,
too. What was his game? Why had he followed Jianjun, if not to kill him? He must know that
he wasn’t the Blue Spirit, no matter what he had said to Zhao.

“Anything else?” Zhao asked, almost reluctantly.

“Ro really wanted some of the prisoners. So after Kazuma left, he sold some of the bending
herbs to some of Tsing’s men, in exchange for accidentally leaving a few men behind when
they went to East Lake.”

How could the man have been that stupid? Every time Zhao thought they had reached peak
stupidity, there was more.

This needed immediate damage control. There was no way that had not reached Tsing. Zhao
would need to tell the Fire Lord of the herb mixture’s existence right away. If he found out
later that Zhao knew about it and had kept silent, it would be a death sentence.

And if he ever found out about his son, Zhao would be wishing for death.

“Tell me about Zuko. And about how Ro died.”

“We kept tracking them, and they joined up with another bunch of brats.” Zhiming
swallowed, his eyes getting big. “He told us to deal with the Water Tribe boy and the two
little kids, and went after Zuko himself. But one of the small ones was the Avatar.” He
sounded awed. “He captured us. Zuko killed Ro. Then the Avatar let us free and we started
running.”

Zhao reached over and patted the man’s hand where it was shaking on the table. He had to
resist the urge to wipe his palm on his pants. “Ro’s conduct was unacceptable.” He pulled out
paper, ink, and brushes. “I want you to write down the names and rank of all the survivors.
They may not be as smart or lucky as you. They might not think to mention my name and be
executed before I can have them pardoned.”

Zhiming took the offered items, and Zhao rose to his feet. “Have some more wine and a rest.
Tomorrow we can discuss rejoining my crew.”

“Thank you, Admiral Zhao, thank you.” He was already writing names in a messy hand.

The walk back to Zhao’s quarters was swift, his agitation carrying him with quick strides. His
first lieutenant kept pace with him. “Hisao,” Zhao said. His voice was tight. “Go back in an
hour and bring him more wine, with a little extra something. Warn the guards not to drink it.
Get rid of the body before dawn.”

Then he would have to see about disposing of the rest of them. There was an assassin he had
heard of who might be up to the task. A shame he couldn’t trust anyone with taking out Zuko.
Zuko, who was somehow still alive and sheltering with the fucking Avatar. Zhao had to take
a long breath. How had that happened? Had the boy actually turned traitor? Zhao wouldn’t
blame him. If his own father had ordered his execution, he might join his enemies too.
Whatever it was, he had to die quickly. But if the brat had made it to Ba Sing Se, then there
was no way to get at him.

Not yet.

The Fire Nation would win the city, eventually. Certainly when the comet arrived, if not
before. But Zhao couldn’t risk Zuko revealing himself. He had to get in there as soon as the
walls went down. For now, presumably, he was safe, lost in the crowds, hiding from Earth
and Fire alike, which meant Zhao was also safe. For now.

He needed to be closer, ready to take action as soon as he could. Perhaps an assassin could
get in—but then, he would be giving them information that would give them complete power
over him. He wasn’t sure it was worth the risk at this stage. Fuck, he should have killed the
boy when he had the chance. He almost had, he had strangled him until the life had almost
left his eyes, but it had been so satisfying to see, he’d released him, hoping to do it again.
Watched him gasp and drag air in his lungs as Zhao had fucked him.

It had been satisfying. But probably not worth all this.

And he would have to deal with Kazuma. Something he intended to do personally. He would
find out how much the man knew, who else suspected anything, and then make him crawl
and beg before he killed him. It was little compared to the Zuko problem, but it was
achievable and would help ease the rage in him to have a little payback. Assuming the man
had been playing him. He should probably find that out first.

“After that task is complete, I want you to look into Captain Kazuma. Dig up everything you
can,” he told Hisao. Clearly his own cursory investigation had not been enough.

Kazuma, Jianjun, and Zuko were all headed for Ba Sing Se. So that’s where he would go. He
needed to tell the Fire Lord about the herb mixture first, before that became a problem, and
perhaps that, plus the fact Hakoda’s fleet had nearly reached the city, might sway Ozai into
letting him take command of the ships. He would at least offer to oversee things from the
river again.

And then he would make sure people understood what it meant to betray him.

……………………

It felt like fear had taken root in Katara’s bones. It wasn’t a tangible fear, she wasn’t afraid of
the people in the camp, cautious, but not afraid. The kids here were looked after, their needs
cared for to some extent. But the fear of loss was under her skin again, itching along with the
grief that somehow still remained. Sokka was right there, being bossy and frequently
annoying, but she could feel the same soul deep horror she felt after his supposed death all
those months ago.

She couldn’t give in to it though, couldn’t let it take her under. They needed her. Sokka’s own
grief was palpable, he was struggling with it, which was not something she was used to
witnessing. It was like losing Zuko had set him completely adrift on some emotional level.

They had been in camp long enough for his hair to start to grow out, but when she had
offered to shave it for him, he had refused. She wasn’t sure what she felt about that, but she
suspected it wasn’t a good sign.

Sokka got up in the morning, he ordered them about, plotted, planned, and questioned people
all day. He was functioning, but there was something not quite right, something festering like
a wound. Like he was afraid of himself almost, without Zuko there to… support him? Protect
him? Or more worrying in Katara’s mind, to stop him. She remembered very clearly the
incident when he had found out about Yue, his loss of control, and the fear and the guilt it had
caused in him.

It felt like they were all waiting for something to give, for them to fall apart, and she wasn’t
sure who was going to go first. They couldn’t wait any longer, they had to get into the city.

The only possible way they had found was to pay smugglers to bend them in through the
walls. They had considered doing it themselves, but Aang was still fairly new at
earthbending. He was good at it, of course he was, but there were a lot of variables. Not least
the earthbenders patrolling the walls. They could bring the whole weight of it down on their
heads if they realised someone was trying to break in.
Sokka had reasoned that the smugglers were successful because they had someone on the
inside who allowed people through at some given time in exchange for money.

So they had set up a meeting and prepared themselves as best they could. It was almost a
given someone would try to take advantage of them, due to their age and apparent
vulnerability. They had a lot of money, half of Sokka’s friend Shen’s life savings. They could
use it to get in, then find somewhere to live, hopefully. They were not going to lose it to
criminals.

Katara was armed with two water skins, Sokka was equipped with a third, just in case. Aang
was under strict instructions that he was an earthbender, no water or air, not unless it was
subtle enough to pass unnoticed.

Their contact was a very average-looking man dressed in brown, and Katara didn’t like the
way he was looking at her; speculative, a little greedy.

As they approached the wall, hidden in shadow, a second man met them, wearing dark
clothes and exuding suspicious energy. “Show me the money,” he said as they reached him.

Sokka stepped forward, his hand on his boomerang, his sword having been lost to the river.
“No. You get us in and we'll give you the money,” he said, confident, his voice strong.

“And what if you don’t have any? Hmm?” the suspicious guy asked.

“No,” the average guy said. He waved his hands between them, placating. “They have honest
faces. I’m sure they are good for it.” He smiled. It was not a reassuring expression.

Aang beamed at him, but Sokka’s eyes narrowed. He had seen Average’s glances at her too.
They would be expecting payment, just not necessarily with coin.

It was a fear that lurked that much closer to the surface after Ro. Sometimes, she could still
feel his hands on her, filthy and burning hot. She was haunted by the thought of what he had
done, might have done.

But this is what they had to do. They wouldn’t be caught unawares, and these men had no
idea what they were dealing with. Strangely, she didn’t feel afraid being led into the tunnel
Suspicious opened for them. They thought they were dealing with kids trying to lie their way
inside. When they attacked, Katara was more than ready to teach them the error of their ways.

The passage was dark, and they trailed their fingers against the walls to keep orientated. It
felt like a long time, although it couldn’t have been more than five minutes.

The stone in front of them slid open, and they blinked in the dull, distant torchlight. They
were ushered out and led down a dark street by a man in a uniform. City guard perhaps. He
left as they were ushered into a dark building and down some steps.

Once they reached the bottom, one of the men waiting for them made a grab for Sokka,
clearly seeing him as the biggest threat. More fool them. Katara and Aang clung together in
apparent fear as she loosened the stoppers on her skins, her actions hidden by Aang’s body.
“Hey!” Sokka protested, wiggling in their grip. But they had planned for this and his eyes
were bright and alert. Katara’s blood felt like it was boiling in her, they had expected it but it
still made her feel angry. These men praying on the desperate. It disgusted her.

“We had a deal,” Aang said, giving them a chance they didn’t deserve.

“And we’ve changed the terms,” Average said. He turned to the other man. “Empty their
pockets, see if they have the money. Madam Wang will take these two.” He jerked a thumb at
her and Aang. The other boy might be too old for her. But we'll find something.”

“Bastard!” Aang said, loudly.

Sokka gasped. “You watch your mouth, young man!” he said, wagging a finger even though
his hands were being wrestled together to be bound. Katara personally thought that bastard
was a little mild for the circumstances. She had long suspected that Aang had been collecting
curse words the same as she had, and she couldn’t let him out do her.

“Big mistake, cow-pig fucker,” she said. And she was suddenly so glad she would be getting
to fight them. There was a rushing feeling in her body as she stepped back from Aang, giving
herself room.

“Katara!” Sokka said, sounding somewhere between scandalised and proud.

“You an earthbender?” Average asked. “Sorry, girl, but you’re outclassed.” He gestured to
Suspicious, who took up a solid stance.

“No,” Katara said, and unstopped her water skins, one with each hand. She wasn’t afraid of
these men, not like she had been with Ro. They weren’t used to kids fighting back, and they
had no idea what they were dealing with.

“I’m an earthbender!” Aang said, making some exaggerated movements as he pulled the
water out of the flask Sokka was carrying. The men ignored him in favour of staring at the
liquid in Katara’s hands. She did take a moment to appreciate their shock and slight
trepidation.

She struck fast, sending out a whip into Suspicious’ face, causing him to cry out and step
back. Almost in time with her, Aang sent water from the third skin shooting into the face of
the man holding Sokka, allowing him to drop free. Sokka rolled into position behind them
and Katara felt his fingers at her waist as he grabbed for her belt knife to deal with his bound
hands.

She felt powerful for a moment, in control, despite the sea of hot rage and bitter anger that
was surging through her.

The earthbender struck at them with gripping stone hands and Aang stepped forward,
smashing them almost effortlessly out of the air. Katara’s water shot past and froze the man's
feet to the floor. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Aang had used earth to trap the
non-benders. She advanced on Suspicious as he tried to gather more rock to throw at her,
unbalanced by the water holding his legs together. Her whip stuck out, ice freezing his arms
mid bending move.

“Oh, well, that was pathetically easy,” Sokka said, dusting himself off and surveying their
prisoners with a pleased eye.

Suspicious struggled ineffectively as Katara advanced on him. “Where is Madam Wang’s?”

she asked, voice as cold as the ice twisted around his wrists.

“Please, it burns!” he said, his face screwed up in discomfort. The ice was against the skin
and Katara was familiar with the way the pain built.

“Tell me where it is!” Because if they had been selling children to this person, there was no
way they could just leave them there.

“Katara,” Aang said, a little pleading, but she ignored him. This man deserved what he got.
She could do worse, but she wouldn’t.

“Tell me, or I’ll put the ice somewhere you won’t recover from.”

He blanched, and the words spilled out of him.

Once they had what they needed, they had bound him tightly with the rope they had used on
Sokka, and Katara had released him. His wrists were red and slightly blistered, but the
damage wouldn’t be permanent.

“Perhaps you should heal him?” Aang suggested. He didn’t like to see people in pain, but
there was no way Katara was going to do any such thing. It wouldn’t kill or maim him, he
could suffer.

“Nah,” Sokka said. “Let him blubber. The question is, what do we do now?”

“We can’t leave this, we can’t leave the other people he’s sold,” Katara said. She was trying
to keep her voice down but she could hear the heat in it.

“Neither of us are suggesting that,” Sokka placated. “But do we try to deal with it, or do we
go to the authorities?”

“There was at least one guardsman in on it, but if we don’t...” Katara said. They could rescue
the kids, but unless they killed the people behind it, there was nothing to stop them doing it
again.

“I think we have to tell the guard,” Sokka said with a grimace, clearly following the thought.

Aang nodded too. “But we make sure they do act. If they don’t, we take our own action,
agreed?”

“Agreed.”
The guard house was lit with bright lanterns swinging in the slight breeze. It was large and
obvious, but finding it had taken them an hour. Eventually, a guard had found them,
demanding to know why they were out after curfew.

Sokka had insisted they wanted to report a crime, and had to be taken to do the paperwork
themselves. The man looked tired and unimpressed, but Katara assumed he was just happy to
be able to go and pass them off to someone else.

Sokka was muttering to himself the whole way, trying to memorise the twists and turns they
had taken. It was all very well to say there were some men tied up in a house, but there were
more houses here than Katara could have imagined in her wildest dreams. The streets seemed
to be never ending, and they all felt dark and foreboding now the adrenaline was fading.

She was concerned that Aang might be upset with her, but he didn’t seem to be. He had
accepted what she had done, although he might not agree with it. Even with the flood of
anger mostly drained from her body, she felt no guilt herself. Not one drop.

They were led to a room and sat down. A woman came and gave them some tea. Something
light and floral. It made her think of Uncle.

“It's kind of time sensitive?” Sokka told her.

“The commander will be in shortly,” she said. She was staring at them. Their eyes, Katara
realised. Most people hadn’t really paid attention to them, but that was when they had been
presenting themselves as obviously Water Tribe. With them dressed in green and brown,
people seemed confused.

The commander was a harried looking man about their father’s age with sun bleached brown
hair and a fairly impressive moustache.

“I’m Guard Commander Kang,” he said.

“We are here to report a crime,” Sokka said, in his most important and annoying voice.

They had decided to risk telling the truth. These people would have to open the gates if they
wanted to expel them, so it was far more likely they would be imprisoned somewhere if they
decided to punish them.

“Well, hurry up, we’re shorthanded,” Kang said. “I don’t have all day to listen to stories.”

“It’s night,” Sokka pointed out, sweetly, and Katara elbowed him hard in the ribs.

Kang grunted, looking like he was losing patience fast. Sokka sat up straight. He started at
their first meeting with the average guy, although he called him shifty guy, and described
everything that had happened until the fight. He dumbed down their own actions
considerably.
“Waterbender, huh?” Kang said, eyeing Katara. She did her best to look harmless.

“We’re from Kyoshi Island,” Sokka said. “There’s Water Tribe blood on our mother’s side,
apparently. But it’s very weak. Show him.” He nudged Katara, and she raised a hand, pulling
the tea up from her cup, letting it tremble pathetically.

“I’m getting better!” she said and smiled up at him, doing her best to mimic Aang’s sweetest,
most sincere face. She wasn’t sure if she pulled it off. He was looking at her like she might be
a bit simple.

“Those men had never seen waterbending, and they were scared,” Sokka continued
guilelessly. “It was easy to overpower them.”

“And the guard was involved?” Kang said. His mouth looked tight under his moustache, but
he didn’t seem to be sceptical. Katara suspected that this was something he already had some
knowledge of. He looked angry at the prospect of his people being involved.

“Yes,” Sokka said. “He led us to the house. Then he left. It makes sense that someone knows
when and where people can get in unnoticed.”

“Hmm,” Kang said. “Can you draw me a map?”

“Can’t we take you there?”

“No. You will be staying here. If you have not been truthful with me, we will be having
words.” He looked at them sternly. “I will take men to investigate. You draw me a map.”

Sokka nodded. Katara could feel his reluctance, but there wasn’t much they could do about it.

“Commander?” There was a rap at the door and another man stuck his head into the room.
“We’ve had a report of a raid being planned. They might be hitting the fields to the north.”

Kang looked furious for a moment and shook his head. “Raids, people trafficking. So much
for a quiet night.” He turned to his colleague. “I will deal with it, take these kids’ information
and investigate their story. If it’s true, I want those men here and ready for interrogation when
I get back.”

“What about us?” Aang asked.

“Can’t leave you unattended, but we don’t kick kids out, although some think we should. We
will deal with this Madam Wang tomorrow. For tonight, we’ll set you up with some food and
somewhere to sleep.”

It was probably the best outcome they could expect.

The room they were shown to was in a separate building. It had two pallets and a chair, there
was no decoration, but it looked clean.

“Do we escape?” Katara asked, sitting on one of the beds.

“If we do, we might not find out if they rescue the people at Madam Wang’s,” Aang said. “I
say we take their food and get some rest.”

Sokka nodded and flopped down on the bed next to her. “Step one complete. Tomorrow we
worry about step two.”

The woman from earlier delivered them some rice and vegetables, fresh, not pickled, which
was a wonderful change. They settled down in one of the beds. It was a tight squeeze, but it
felt better to be close. Aang fell asleep quickly, squashed between them, his breathing slow
and steady.

“So,” Katara said into the quiet dark. “We made it.”

“Yup,” Sokka sounded exhausted, a little stressed.

“We have money, we can get a room somewhere.”

“If they let us. They might not.”

Typical Sokka. “Let’s not create problems before we know if we’ll have them.”

Sokka breathed out loudly. He looked so hurt whenever he had a moment of quiet. The light
from the lanterns outside cast a slight warm glow into the room, and she could just make out
his face in the dim light.

“We’ll find them,” she told him softly. “They’ll be here somewhere and we will find them.”

“Yeah.”

“And he will forgive you. You just need a chance to explain.”

He didn’t reply, but Katara could see his eyes shining in the dark as he stared up at the
ceiling. She could feel her own eyes prickling with tears just seeing the depth of his wounds
written on his face.

“Do.. do you love him? I mean, are you in love with him?” she corrected herself, so he
couldn’t pretend to mistake what she meant.

He was very quiet. No quick denial, which gave her all the answer she needed, really, but she
gave him time to think it through.

“Maybe,” he said at last. “But it’s complicated. In my mind, it’s complicated.”

“What about in your heart?” she asked.

“My heart is my mind,” he said.

She huffed at him. “You know exactly what I mean. Is it complicated in your feelings, just the
emotion, not the other stuff?”
“Of course it is! It’s all connected.” He huffed back at her, turning his head to catch her eye.
Then he groaned, looking back at the ceiling. “No, okay? It’s not complicated if I remove all
the complicated stuff from the feelings, okay? Satisfied?”

“I knew it!” Aang said smugly from where he was tucked under Sokka’s arm.

“Oh shut up,” Sokka grumbled, but he did sound a little less bereft.

…………………..

In the cold light of day, Tu’s thoughts about Li looking like the Fire Lady seemed a bit silly,
but then again, the familiarity had not gone away. It might even have become worse. He had
spent the morning watching the other boy and trying to remember what Fire Lord Ozai
looked like. There had been portraits of him hung in every building since he had ascended the
throne, but Tu had never paid them much mind. All he could remember was an imposing,
frightening looking man with a beard and hard, golden eyes.

The eyes and the shape of the face could be a match for Li, but he couldn’t be sure. Maybe he
was overthinking it, and Li was just a relative of Ursa’s. But Tu’s understanding was she was
common born and Li clearly was not. Could he be the Fire Lord’s son? Was that even
possible? The thought seemed ludicrous, but it was fixed in his mind now, nagging away at
him. The prince had been banished for some crime or other, so he might be wandering the
Earth Kingdom being a traitor. But Tu had always imagined him to be...older? Even though
he knew logically they were of a similar age. It just hadn’t sunk in how young that actually
was. The other obvious thing was that burn scar... it looked like someone had held a flaming
hand to his face. It was a very deliberate injury and had clearly been inflicted by a firebender.
There was only one man who would have been able to do such a thing to a prince, and that
opened up so many more questions. Nasty ones.

As they stopped and began preparing to set up camp, Tu watched Li grumble to Toph and
avoid Jet’s friendly attention with scowls and growls in equal measure. While he watched,
like he could somehow leech knowledge from his movements and sullen muttering, Tu ran
over all the possible leading questions he could think to ask to get more information,
although he couldn’t imagine Li actually answering any of them. Tu had already tried ‘do you
have a family name?’ this morning, and got a terse ‘no’ as an answer.

He didn’t know why it even mattered, and while he kept trying to put it out of his mind, the
curiosity and need to know was burning at him. He just couldn’t leave it alone.

While the group took a rest before the evening meal, Toph and Li were once again sitting
slightly apart, clearly not inviting company. And once again, Tu pushed past the social and
cultural habits and manners that told him to respect that. He sat beside Toph to watch Li as he
stared at the trampled dirt between his bent knees. His lower lip was pushed out, and he
looked thoroughly miserable.
“Are you okay, Li? You look…upset,” Tu asked, plucking up the stem of a scrubby weed to
fiddle with.

“He’s missing his boyfriend,” Toph said.

“He’s not my boyfriend!” Li snapped, swinging around to face them, eyes a little wild. As
well they might be with someone implying something like that. “You can’t just say… those
things!” he added, breathing hard. Tu looked between them, a little shocked.

Toph shrugged. “Your very special friend, then. Your platonic snuggle buddy, your particular
friend, your bestest best friend who you totally would never kiss on the mouth.”

Li looked like he was going to have a breakdown. He was scarlet. And it looked like he
wasn’t sure if he was going to set her on fire or start crying.

“You really can’t say things like that,” Tu said as calmly as he could. He was confused. He
thought they were friends, but this seemed like a randomly vicious accusation to just come
out with. Perhaps it was teasing? But the expression on Li’s face said it was not being taken
as such. “You can’t,” Tu said again. “Certainly not in front of people. What if someone else
heard? What if Jet heard?”

Toph barked a laugh, her lips curling into an amused smirk. “Don’t think Jet is only interested
in girls either, Kiddo.”

“I’m older than you,” Tu protested automatically. He had asked her age specificity to figure
out just how bad he should feel about how incredible she was with her bending, while he
could just do party tricks and burn people to death with more luck than judgement. “And how
would you even know something like that?” He felt the need to come to Jet’s defence,
although he probably didn’t need it.

“Heartbeat. Picks up when you're close to someone you might want to do naughty things
with.” She elbowed her friend, who grunted unhappily. “Like you, Grumpy Pants. Jet is
definitely interested, although maybe he just wants your…swords.”

Li had been taking calming breaths, the colour slowly receding from his face, but he went
crimson again at her words. “Toph, you can’t.”

She shook her head. “This is a real thing for you people, isn’t it?”

“Yes!” they both snapped.

She held up her hands. “Okay, no more making fun of the snuggling within hearing distance
of others. Or of Jet and his really quite obvious attentions. But I have to say, it seems like a
dumb thing to get upset about.”

“It’s illegal,” Li hissed at her.

“Hate to point this out, but you’re a wanted criminal. So I kind of feel like that’s a moot
point.”
“It’s immoral,” he tried.

“Again, criminal. My high spirited friend. Who cares?”

Tu considered. She was making Li’s arguments seem rather silly. But they weren’t, at least, in
a way they weren’t. It was just about explaining why. “If you said that in front of someone
important, Li might have to fight you. Letting that sort of slander stand would be hugely
shaming. He would have to defend his honour.”

Although it couldn’t be a real duel, obviously, he would be expected to at least punch her.
Playground rules, if nothing else. Tu was shocked he hadn’t, actually. He twisted the weed
stem in his fingers, unsure what to do in this situation or what he thought about it.

“A fight might be fun, actually,” Toph said.

“I can’t, can I? Not unless you mean with my swords,” Li said. He still looked flushed and
upset, and Tu bet his temperature was up.

“I take your point, though, Tu,” Toph said, shrugging. “Although I also stand by mine, the
whole thing is very stupid. I’ll take it further and suggest your whole country is stupid to
make a fuss over something so benign.”

“Anyway,” Li said, face still red and set into a horrible, fierce scowl. “I have no honour to
lose.”

Toph reached out a dirty little hand and patted him on the arm. “You miss him. And you’re
mad at him.”

Apparently accepting the leap in conversational subject, and very much full of feelings about
it, Li let out a long sound full of aggravation and emotion. He slammed his hands down in the
dirt. “I can’t even be properly angry, because I’m worried about him!” he said. It sounded
like the words were bursting out of him, like they had been swelling in his lungs all day and
had to be expelled. “And yes, I miss him.” He made an inarticulate noise of frustration and
flopped backwards into the dirt, covering his face with his hands and stomping his feet into
the ground like a small child having a tantrum.

Toph grinned over at Tu. “It’s a sad case.”

“I hate you,” Li muttered.

“Meh.” Toph picked a bit of something out of her teeth and spat. Her manners were so
terrible it was actually fascinating to watch. She could only be that gross on purpose. Tu
couldn’t quite work out why. She was like a puzzle for him to unpick, and one to take his
mind off the Li problem.

Although... if there was some truth to Toph’s rather dubious teasing, then it might make Tu’s
horrible suspicions make some sense. If Li was of royal blood... and he was like that, liked
other boys, then it made sense he would have been thrown out. Even if he hadn’t done
anything worse than that, it would be enough to bring shame on the family. Even low born
families would struggle with that disgrace, but the Fire Lord’s own son? Perhaps they had
made up some other crime to cover for this one. Better a traitor trying for the throne than
something like this. At least an attempted coup would show strength and determination.
Things the Fire Lord would prize.

Tu chewed his thumbnail and looked at Li as he flopped on the floor, scarred face completely
covered by his arms. Li didn’t seem like someone who had lost his honour. He had come to
the rescue of strangers who were being attacked by armed men. He had even broken into a
prison camp to help Captain Shen free his soldiers. As the Blue Spirit, he had stolen money
that had been taken from the people and returned it to them. Jet had been very keen to tell Tu
that story, his eyes alight with fervour.

He had honour. That was obvious. Could something as… insignificant as kissing another boy
really take that away? Tu was learning that honour was mostly about what action you did or
did not take, whether you chose to do right by people or not. The Fire Nation army didn’t
teach you that. But it hadn’t taught him a lot of things, and he had decided laws and rules that
didn’t take that simple idea into account were stupid. Toph was right, their home was full of
stupid laws, rules and ideas. It was a lot to think about.

Later, Jet called a meeting. The atmosphere was tense. The refugee camp was spread out on
the horizon in front of the enormous walls. Just the sight of them from a distance made Tu
feel small and hopeless. Every time they had encountered a person heading back away from
the city, they said the same thing: unless you had serious money to burn, no one was getting
in or out.

The first time, Jet had smiled and shrugged. But by the fourth person who confirmed it, even
he was starting to look a little concerned. So now, they were going to discuss options, before
deciding if they should head down to the camp.

“How were you planning to get in, Li?” Jet asked.

“Breaking and entering,” Toph said with a grin. “I hear it’s one of his special talents.”

Li glared at her. “Over the wall.”

They all turned and looked at the gigantic wall in the distance.

Li didn’t seem to feel the need to elaborate or explain how he was planning to scale the
impenetrable city’s defences. He seemed quite confident he could do it.

“Well,” Jet said, “I don’t think we’re going to get over the wall with a baby.” He pointed to
Hope, who was quietly having her dinner. One of the few times she wasn’t fussing. Which
would present another problem if they were going to try to sneak anywhere.

“Over the wall?” Toph said. “You’re not thinking creatively enough. What about under the
wall?”

Jet narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips, clearly thinking about it.
Li leant forward towards his friend. “Can you do that? It will be a lot of work. There are
thirteen of us and an infant.”

“What are the risks?” Jet asked. “For you, for us?”

“I can do it,” Toph said. “But it will be hard. It will take a lot of energy and concentration.
Moving that many people, keeping the walls secure as we go, moving the displaced earth
safely. I’ll have to think about it, plan it.”

Bao poked the fire with a stick. He looked anxious. “Going to have to do it blind, too. You
can’t have fire underground, it eats the air. Sometimes, you go too deep, it can cause
explosions too. I worked in the mines a few years.”

Ash and Bone, Tu hadn’t even considered the lack of breathable air. He had been too busy
worrying about the idea of being underground, below the heavy earth.

“Yeah, that part isn't a problem for me.” Toph waved a hand in front of her face. “But you
guys will have to make a human chain or something so you don’t fall all over yourselves. I’ll
be focusing on other things.”

“Can you do it, though?” Jet asked. “I have to admit I don’t know much about bending, and I
wasn’t kidding when I said yours was the best I’ve seen, but moving that many people
underground...”

She nodded, serious for once. “Like I said, it’s not going to be easy. But I wouldn’t suggest it
if I couldn’t do it. I’ll try to find somewhere safe for us to come out. But we’ll probably have
to scatter when we do. I doubt we’ll be the first earthbenders to try to get in that way. The
guards might be on the lookout. It’s quite possible they will sense me when we hit the city.”
She cracked her knuckles. “Ideally, we would go deeper to avoid that, but things will become
more complicated and more dangerous if we do.”

“If we run into trouble, me and Li will deal with them,” Jet said, giving Li a wink.

Tu was not looking forward to this at all. But they were going to have to try.

“Toph knows her stuff,” Li said, avoiding looking at Jet so hard it was slightly embarrassing
to witness. “And I know mine. If we run into trouble, we’ll deal with it.”

Jet clapped Li on the shoulder, pulling him in for one of his usual half hugs. Rather than just
giving his usual glare and twitching out from under Jet’s hand, Li blushed, the colour high in
his unscarred cheek as he pushed himself to his feet. “Toph, we should find the best place to
start from and get things ready.” He whirled around dramatically before stalking off into the
growing dark, Toph snickering as she followed behind him.

Jet watched him, lips curled in a small private smile. Toph was right. Or at least, Tu thought
that was the case. Jet was good at people, to the extent it could be called manipulative. If he
sensed Li’s interest, of which there was clearly enough to make him blush, then it was
possible he was using that to draw him in, and attempt to bind him to them. It was obvious he
did want Li and his swords, double entendre aside, having another swordsman on the team
would be excellent, and if he won over Li, he won over Toph and that would be even better.
So it might just be Jet casting his net and hoping to land a fish. It might be. Or he might
actually want to do other things with him. That wasn’t Tu’s business.

He kept telling himself it wasn’t his business and therefore it wasn’t his problem, but he
couldn’t help feeling it was somehow going to end up being his problem anyway.

Going under the ground was horrible. Toph made them all some little steps out of the rock
and dirt she had taken out of the deep, deep hole she had made. Just big enough for all of
them to walk in a close formation.

“Right,” Toph said. “This should take a few hours. Someone might have to feed me snacks.”

It sounded like a joke, but Li was nodding seriously. Tu wondered if earthbending took up as
much energy as Fire did.

Li went a step behind Toph, like he was guarding her back, while Jet followed further behind.
As the others were busy, Tu had been given the task of being the dedicated Momo carrier.
The little creature was clutching him, distressed by the oppressive dark that even his huge
eyes couldn’t see through. Tu could relate. He was warming up to the lemur and its soft fur
and chirrupy noises. He still wasn’t a fan of those creepy fingers, though.

“Okay. Let’s move,” Toph said. Her voice sounded strange, like the dark had flattened it.

Tu held Momo with one arm and clutched Jet’s belt with the other. He could feel a hand on
his own as Ying grasped him in turn. Getting into a rhythm of walking so they didn’t bump or
stumble was hard, but they shuffled along as best they could.

It quickly felt like they had been down for hours, even though it had probably barely been
one. Tu wished someone would talk, but it was like the dark and the earth was too oppressive
for words to leave them. The thought of the air disappearing was sending shivery tremors of
fear up his spine, making his breath come short and wheezy in his chest. Momo hung onto
him with a tiny tight grip and he clung back. He hated this.

More time passed, smothering and horribly slow. The dark felt endless, and the pace felt so
slow it was almost like they were trying to walk through sticky honey.

Eventually, Toph called a halt. “There’s empty space above us.”

“What’s empty in a city?” Li asked suspiciously.

“Feels like fields, maybe? A park? There are small critters scuttling about. People off to the
sides, but this is the best space I can find away from the walls.” She was quiet for a moment.
“We may need to run. There are people up there. A way off, but they might follow the sound
of us.” Her voice sounded strained. Tu couldn’t imagine the effort this had taken, the
pressures on her small body, to have maintained her work underground at an even pace was
astonishing.

“Be ready,” she said.

There was a sudden rush of air, and above them, a cloudy night sky.

Li and Jet darted up the stairs Toph had made and moved to the side. Tu didn’t think she
would accept help, so he pretended to stumble and let her catch him. Then he stayed holding
on, lending her what strength he had as they climbed the steps.

Of course, things couldn’t go smoothly.

Li and Jet were facing off against a group of masked people, all armed with blades. “Fuck,”
Smellerbee said from somewhere behind him.

“We don’t want trouble,” Jet called to the men in front of them. “We’re just-”

The apparent leader shook his head. “No witnesses,” he said, cutting across Jet’s words.

Sighing, Jet stepped forward, swords ready. Li joined him, his own blades glittering dull in
the moonlight.

“Scatter!” Li called, his voice loud. Their group broke apart and began to run through the
dark fields, losing themselves in the crops. Tu could hear the sound of Hope’s wail as Ying
carried her away. It was a sound that spurned him into action. He wished he could run. Spirits
knew he was no good in a fight. But if he was the last thing between these masked people and
the baby, he was going to make it count.

Li and Jet were engaging the men. He could hear the swords clashing in the dark. Tu held on
to Toph, who was muttering. She was shaking from exertion, but her bare feet were steady on
the ground. “Of course, after doing work three grown men might struggle to achieve, of
course, now we have to fight,” she snarled. She cracked her fingers, stepping into what must
be a fighting form.

“Protect those who’re running,” Tu said. “Jet and Li are okay.” She nodded, focusing her
efforts on stopping pursuit of the fleeing refugees. Tu unsheathed his knife and prepared to
defend her as she did so.

Suddenly, the dark lit up with half a dozen torches and, behind them, the shadow of men.

“What now?” Toph said. “More coming?”

“The guard, I think,” Tu said as a man in armour rushed past him. “Don’t let them see what
you’re doing.” He clutched her, hiding her small movements as she tripped the masked men
running through the fields.

“Help!” Tu called to the newcomers. “Help! My sister’s blind, and I can’t see in the dark to
help her!” It wasn’t hard to make himself sound pathetic.
“Your sister?” Toph snorted. “I’m going to punch you for that just as soon as I can, Kiddo.
And let’s not get started on who is helping who see shit.”

“Whatever,” Tu muttered as one of the men paused and looked down at them.

“Fucking kids,” the man said, voice furious, but he didn’t seem angry with them specificity.
“Hey, Kang! It’s more kids! Smuggling kids!” He sounded disgusted. He grabbed Tu’s arm.
“Quickly, boy, get out of the way.” He pulled them off to the side, thrusting them at another
armed man who muttered crossly. The sounds of combat had increased out in the fields, men
calling out, screams and the clashing of weapons.

“Our friends,” Tu said. “They’re still out there.”

“Never mind your friends. The city guard will find them.”

That was what Tu was worried about. There was a lot of room for mistakes, especially with
swordplay in the dark. “Jet!” he called, “Jet! The guard will help us! They will catch the
smugglers!” He hoped it was enough, that the others might hear and join them. Meanwhile,
he held on to Toph’s arm. She was as solid and stable as a rock, but even so, she was clearly
still exhausted from her earlier exploits.

The man waiting with them was staring at him, at Momo, Tu realised, still tucked under an
arm. “What’s that?” he asked, dubiously. “Thought it was a cat. But it’s not, is it?”

“Nope,” Toph said, lightly. “He’s my seeing-eye lemur.”

Tu resisted the urge to lie on the floor and cry.

“Your… what?”

“Seeing-eye lemur. They are closely related to cats, though,” Toph said. “So you were nearly
right!”

Tu eyed the creature still clinging to his shirt. It didn’t look that much like a cat. More like a
little monkey bat, so he suspected she was lying, but the guardsman looked pleased with
himself, so Tu counted it as a win.

The first guard returned, Smellerbee’s arm clutched in one hand, Longshot following closely
behind. “Found two more,” he grunted.

Smellerbee met Tu’s eyes, nodding slightly. She understood her role as a poor, innocent waif.
Who exactly was supposed to have been smuggling them was unclear, but as long as they
were perceived to be the victims, not the perpetrators of a crime, they might get away with it.

Time passed with agonising slowness until more guardsmen began to come back. Tu’s heart
seized with relief when he saw Jet and Li walking with them. Jet’s eyes seemed weirdly big
in his face as he looked up at the man beside him. “I don’t know what we would have done
without your help!” he was saying.
“You held your own remarkably well,” the man said. “But you were all lucky. They bring
kids in, sell them to brothels. Sometimes to work, but… well, you get the picture. There are
always sick bastards who will buy women and children.”

Jet nodded, eyes still wide. Li was not doing so well at the acting, and he was glaring at
everybody. He looked disgruntled by Jet’s behaviour, perhaps confused by it, but his face
visibly brightened when he spotted Toph and he broke away to join them.

“You okay?” he asked as he reached them.

“Yup,” Toph told him, reaching out a little hand and thumping him hard enough to make him
grunt. “Glad the big bad smugglers didn’t get us.”

Li leant in. “It seems like the men who attacked us were here on a raid, trying to get food
from the stores and fields. The guard was here to stop them.”

And in the confusion, it was assumed they had been brought in by another group, some
mysterious third party who had escaped, or maybe been killed, along with the raiders. “Just
don’t let them know you can bend,” Li continued.

“Do you know if the others made it away?” Tu asked.

Li shrugged. “I didn’t see them dead or captured. I hope that means they escaped into the
city.”

“You, half-breed,” one of the guards called, gesturing for Li to come back to where the leader
and Jet were standing.

Li snarled quietly, but he stepped forward without challenge. Tu and Toph went with him, not
willing to risk being left out of the conversation, or leave Li unattended.

“You have people here?” the guardsman asked. Li shook his head. He was staring the man
down, threatening and uncompromising.

“We don’t either,” Tu said, moving himself and Toph bodily between them.

Toph turned and latched onto Li’s arm, digging her little fingers into flesh. “We would have
been lost without these brave boys,” she said, in the most sickeningly sweet voice Tu had
ever heard. Li was staring at her like she had grown an extra head, but at least he didn’t look
like he was planning to set fire to the guards anymore.

“So you’re alone, all of you?” The man asked. He turned to Jet. “How old are you?”

“Old enough,” Jet said, his eyes slightly narrow.

The man nodded. “I’m commander Kang. Your sword skills were impressive. You want to
earn some money, have a bit of security? We could maybe offer you an apprenticeship.
Spirits know we need the extra bodies.”
Jet looked conflicted for a moment. Working for the city guard did not sound like something
he would choose to do in a million years, but it did offer potential opportunities. And it was
possible turning it down would have other repercussions. “What about Li?” he asked.

Kang glanced at the other boy, barely containing his sneer. “We don’t allow mongrels in our
ranks. No matter how good they are with a sword. There’s enough of them taking up
resources in the city already. Don’t want them playing favourites with each other.”

“Can I think about it?” Jet asked. “I want to, of course. I can’t imagine being offered such an
amazing opportunity. But I’m responsible for them.” He gestured vaguely. “I just want to get
settled.” He was very convincing. Worryingly so.

Kang nodded. “You will all have to be registered. Can’t have you loose in the city. But we
can put you up for the night, get you fed.” He looked resigned. “Place is full of children this
evening.”

“Thank you,” Jet said with such sincerity it put Tu’s teeth on edge. Then as the guards began
talking, muttering something about more kids, Jet met Li’s eyes, Longshot’s, then
Smellerbee’s then Tu’s. Let’s see where this goes, the look said. Let’s play it carefully.

Even Li seemed to accept that, falling into place with them, and even allowing Jet to rest a
hand on his shoulder.

Despite his anxiety, Tu felt something in him relax a little. They had made it. They were in
the city, for good or ill.

……………….

Ba Sing Se was enormous, bigger than anything Shen had seen before. His memories of the
place from six years ago were fuzzy and vague, wrapped so tightly in a shroud of grief and
trauma that it was barely more than flashes of buildings and people.

Now he was faced with it in all of its busy, noisy, smelly glory, and while there was an
excitement to this much life and humanity, there was also a feeling of intense trepidation.
How was he going to find two kids in this?

He was also limited on time. He had to work all day, from dawn and often into the evening,
then he had to divide his search with integrating himself with the crew. Something he had
decided was necessary. If he couldn’t find the boys in the city, he was going to have to look
in the camps outside and he was not going to bring Suki. The likelihood of getting back in
was slim to none, and there was a high chance those in the camps would be killed in the
inevitable fighting. If it came to that, he would need to leave Suki with the crew. He had to
earn their loyalty, their trust, and make sure that he could trust them in turn.
His relationship with Ayano had, of course, been a great start in that direction. Not just
because of their growing friendship, but also because the whole crew seemed to find it very
entertaining.

Ayano had been as good as her word; when they reached the city and Shen’s time to really
work started, the sex stopped. He did miss it, but he could still enjoy her company without
any complications, and overall, it was a good feeling.

Of course, they had been in the middle of a competition when she had called time on the
physical side of things. The rules had been very simple: every time they fucked, the one who
came first lost. The person with the shortest time overall lost the game entirely, and could
then be mocked relentlessly.

Naturally, Ayano had conveniently chosen a time to stop right after Shen had not only lost the
round, but was in a position to lose the game, as he had no opportunity to win back the lead.
He respected her for that. She was a pirate, after all.

The crew, while uninformed of the specific details, were certainly aware of the competition
and Shen’s embarrassing loss. They seemed to believe that it was their collective civic duty to
make fun of him over it. He just grinned and shrugged, and his easy acceptance of the
mockery seemed to be helping build his relationship with them. But to be honest, being
teased for having really good sex was not much of a hardship.

He did miss the fucking, but the work was hard, backbreaking stuff, and he doubted he would
have had the energy anyway. They didn’t just have him loading and unloading their cargo.
They loaned him out to other folk on the dock and got paid for it. He shifted crates, provided
protection when ships delivered valuable goods, dragged them all the way through the docks
into the city, giving him a glimpse of the middle ring, although never beyond it. The place
really was huge.

Suki only worked on the boat. Shen had made it very clear to Ayano and Captain Jee that she
wasn’t to be put in any danger, and keeping her supervised on the ship kept her safe. That
freed up Shen to concentrate on his own work and looking for Zuli and Sokka, which was
also proving to be a thankless, difficult task. Between that and work, he had precious little
time for sleep and he was really starting to feel it. He could go a long time without, but he
still felt like he was being worn down and stretched thin.

He was dozing, propped up against the rail, when Ayano jabbed him in the ribs, making him
jump.

“Come, sleepyhead.” She grinned at him.

He raised his eyebrows and gave her an attempt at a tired, lascivious grin. “You know that
kind of instruction doesn’t work on me,” he lied.

She snorted at him. “We know what does, huh?” She wiggled her fingers at him.

He could feel himself flush slightly. He had lost their game to her clever mouth on his dick
and three of her callused fingers up his arse, and she was never, ever going to let him forget
it.

She laughed at him, and he shrugged with a grin of his own. “You got me there.”

“Come,” she said. “We’re drinking tonight. No one is working aside from the watch. You
should join us. Suki said she would, after her shift with Cook.”

He pointed a finger at her. “No getting the girl drunk, I mean it.”

“She’s old enough for a cup of wine,” Ayano said as she headed below deck.

“I’m not being accused of corrupting the youth!” Shen yelled after her.

Ayano laughed, warm and almost offensively loud.

He followed her to the mess where the crew had settled in to eat, drink, and gamble. The
room was lit by lanterns, and a few candles, the open flame giving Shen the horrors, even
though most of the ship was made of metal. There were Earth tapestries and pictures, mostly
of poor quality, hung along one wall. Some sort of attempt to make it less Fire he assumed.
With the stark metal walls reflecting the firelight, it really wasn’t working.

Ayano led him through the crowd to captain Jee and some of the other higher-ranking crew
members. Shen tried to avoid the captain as a rule, but if he wanted his protect Suki back-up
plan to work, then he was going to have to spend some time with the man.

“Shen,” Jee greeted him, his face as sour as ever. It was disconcerting to hear a military man
say his name with no rank attached. It hurt.

“Captain,” Shen greeted him. “Having a good evening?”

Jee grunted. “Sit, pour a cup of something. The wine is on me tonight. Or at least the first
bottle is. I know how this rabble drinks. After the first, then you buy your own.”

Shen sat and grinned, pouring himself a cup of sharp smelling, cloudy rice wine. “Your
health, Captain,” he said before drinking. Ayano poured him another.

Suki delivered them some dishes of food, most of which were unfamiliar to Shen. But then he
had been brought up on army rations and he had probably missed out on a lot of his own
country's traditional foods. He still eyed it suspiciously, though. At least three of the other
people at the table with them were Fire, presumably the remains of Ayano and Jee’s old crew.

They picked at the shared dishes of food and drank. Shen was trying to be careful about the
drinking. Partly because Suki was there, but also because he was aware there was a fierce
crashing wave of grief waiting for him behind walls higher than those of the city herself. This
was where his brother had died. He kept trying to push it aside, but it was there, burning and
twisting like the flames that had taken Shuo’s life. The last thing he wanted to do was let it
free. Getting drunk, however appealing it was, could be a risk. Combined with all that had
happened over the past few months, it might pull him under completely.
“Alright, Shen?” Suki asked, as she sat opposite him, next to Ayano. She gave the older
woman an affable sneer as she did so. Shen didn’t really understand the friendly animosity
between the pair, but he had concluded that they did actually like each other, they just liked
bitching at each other more.

He wondered suddenly if Ayano or Jee or any of the others had fought here six years ago, and
what he would do if they had. The stray thought knocked him for a moment. And he clutched
his chopsticks hard enough to make his fingers ache.

“Shen?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. All good. Just tired,” he said, automaticity. Suki was looking at him closely,
and he attempted a smile. “You know I’m a lazy bastard. I say we swap. I’ll peel vegetables
and you haul crates, yeah?”

She laughed obligingly, but she clearly didn’t believe him.

“This job isn’t that bad!” Ayano said, pursing her lips and making her scar pull. “You’re
being mopey. This is easy work.”

“You’ve done worse, have you?”

She and Jee snorted at the same time, and Shen raised his eyebrows at them, pleased for the
opportunity of distraction.

“Babysitting Li was harder,” Suki put in.

Shen nodded, leaning back a little. “Parenting is a bitch,” he said sagely. “Don’t ever do it.
Terrible mistake. Then you get all attached and stuff.” He shuddered dramatically.

“Don’t talk to us about babysitting,” Jee said. Which was a pretty funny image. He was not a
man Shen could imagine doing such a thing. “The worst job in the navy,” the captain
continued.

“Babysitting in the navy?” Shen assumed he meant being forced to bodyguard someone
terrible rather than care for actual children.

“Sounds like a bit of a silly job for a warship,” Suki said. She was toying with the small cup
of wine Ayano had poured her but not actually drinking it, much to Shen’s relief.

Jee downed his own cup, then refilled it. “Wasn’t much of a ship. Only people with
blemished records got assigned to it.”

“How’d you end up with that duty, then?” Shen asked curiously. It might make some sort of
sense. Both Jee and Ayano kept their hair short. Shen had thought it was because they were
trying to look less Fire, but it was equally possible it was because of shame. That’s what
Ayano had assumed of his own hair.

“How do you think?” Ayano asked, looking a little sly.

“Mutiny, I guess?”

She laughed. “Thought about it a time or two. I got court-martial for fighting,” she said with
a grin. “Punched an officer. She was blind drunk and also got pulled up on charges, got it far
worse than me. But I still got punished.”

“Did she deserve it?” Suki asked.

“Fuck yeah, she did.” Ayano looked pleased with herself, smiling with remembered
satisfaction.

“I killed a man,” Jee said casually. “It wasn’t murder, it was a duel. But I stepped outside of
the rules. He deserved to die, so I did what was needed.” There was no guilt in his voice or
face, so presumably he felt it was justified.

Duel’s seemed a crazy way to settle differences where there was an actual right and a wrong,
but the Fire Nation seemed to be full of nothing but crazy as far as Shen could tell. “So, after
bringing shame on yourselves, who were you made to babysit?” he asked.

“The Fire Lord’s son,” Ayano said, making a face. “It was an exhausting job.”

Jee signed. “That we ultimately failed at.”

“Not our fault. We followed orders,” Ayano said, but she didn’t look happy either.

Oh fuck. What were the fucking odds? Unless it was another one of the Fire Lord’s kids?
Shen was aware he had at least two children, but had only heard of one being in the field.

The one Zuli had turned into fish food.

He glanced at Suki, and her eyes were wide, looking at the table with exaggerated interest.
Fuck.

“Shen?” Ayano asked, as he clearly had some sort of stupid expression on his face. He was
far too tired to be dealing with this.

“I would have thought only the best would be given the job of babysitting royalty?” he said.

Jee grimaced and answered. “Not in this instance. He was… not well liked by his father. And
he was a spoiled brat. Making us sail from one end of the world to the other on a whim.
Heedless of risk and danger, completely unprepared for the weather, or for the ship’s needs,
or the crews.” He sighed, shaking his head. It was hard to tell if the glum look on his face
was because of the prince’s death, the crew’s failure to protect him, or the fact they had
obviously been blamed for it.

There were plenty of other questions, too. For example, what kind of person was this man if
his own despot father didn’t even like him?

“Was he cruel?” he asked. He was torn between changing the subject as fast as possible and
morbid curiosity.
“No. Just a brat. By the time I understood things a little better, it was too late.” Jee shrugged
again. “He was a pain, but shouldn’t have died that way.” Despite calling the man a brat and a
pain, he did seem genuinely regretful. Ayano too, she had her lips pulled tight, an expression
on her face that looked upset, angry.

No doubt it was the belief that he should have died in battle, not as the victim of a furious
teenage vigilante. Assuming it was the same prince.

“Is that why you ended up deserting? Because the prince got blo... killed?” Damn it, he was
tired and half cut. He eyed his cup. It was full again. He hadn’t been paying enough attention.
Ayano raised a brow at his slip, and Suki did too, although hers was far more expressive.
There was a whole lecture in that eyebrow. It said; please stop talking when you clearly can’t
control yourself, you moron.

He took another very small sip. “So after he… died. You deserted?”

“We got reassigned before he died. Whole ship got blown up.”

So, yeah. Same Prince. Awkward. Perhaps bringing Zuli back to this boat was not such a
good idea. Although he was just some boy. No reason for them to make the leap to the Blue
Spirit.

“Do you know who did it?” he asked. Suki gave him a long look of slight disbelief. There
was a reason he was just a soldier and not in politics. But he needed to know, to assess how
safe it would be for Zuli to interact with these people.

Jee sighed, sour face looking even more dour. “There were many reasons and many people
who might have wanted the little arsehole dead. It would be hard to pick which one did it.”
Despite his words, he sounded vaguely affectionate. “But I think we all know.” That had an
undercurrent of rage. It was hard for Shen to get a read on their feelings towards the prince.
Annoyance, disrespect, but also anger at his death.

There was muttering from some of the crew. “Admiral Zhao,” Ayano said with heavy
contempt. “He hired someone to do it. He blamed it on pirates, but he was behind it.”

So the only person who knew differently was Zuli? This seemed more complicated than Shen
had first imagined. He had believed that Zhao was attempting to avenge the prince, or at least
that those were his orders. But could it be possible he was actually behind it?

Could he have hired Zuli to do it? The boy had to feed himself, maybe he did work for
money, although Shen couldn’t imagine it. He was not very good at doing what he was told at
the best of times. However, he might have taken on the job if it had aligned with his own
desires.

If that was the case, then maybe Zhao needed to kill him before he could tell anyone of their
deal? It was a possibility, although it still didn’t ring quite right.

“How’d you figure that?” he asked. Suki was giving him a pleading face, obviously very
keen for him to stop talking before he dropped them or Zuli in the shit.
“After the North Pole there was an order that everyone from the prince’s crew who had
survived… what happened there, was to be declared a traitor. They started digging us out
from the ships we had been reassigned to. Clearly, they were trying to cover something up,
and we all knew the animosity between Zhao and the prince.” Jee grimaced, pouring himself
another drink. “I don’t know why they assumed we would be telling everyone.”

“Speak for yourself,” Ayano said. “I talked shit to anyone who would listen. Zhao had no
right to requisition us off our ship, and we both know he arranged the boy’s death.” She
sucked her teeth in a way that suggested she would really like to spit on the floor in distaste
but was holding back. “And I found the threat of execution didn’t agree with me, so I killed
the man trying to take me in and ran. Now I talk even more shit. I hope rumour catches up to
Zhao and fucks him, hard and unpleasant.”

The mood seemed to have lowered considerably, and even Suki’s efforts to lift it seemed
doomed.

The evening wound down shortly after, and Shen herded Suki back to their room, feeling
more than a little drunk. Their little cabin was small and mostly full of a bed, but it was
private, which made him feel more secure when he had to leave Suki to sleep while he
searched the city at night. It was costing extra. A lot extra, but he felt it was worth it for that
peace of mind.

He flopped back on the bed, not bothering to do more than tug off his boots. Suki sneered
down at him in friendly disgust. “You’ll stink in the morning.”

“That sounds like a tomorrow problem.” It shouldn’t be, though. He was a man who liked to
keep himself clean and orderly when he could, but recently he was finding it difficult.
Perhaps it was the lack of sleep.

Suki sat herself beside him, yawning widely. “Well, that was a weird discussion.”

“Awkward,” Shen agreed.

“You have no idea.”

“Oh, I have some. I presume Zuli told you what he did?” Shen flung an arm over his eyes.
His head hurt.

“Which part?” Suki snickered lightly. “His list of offences is quite long.”

Shen grunted. “He blew up their prince.”

“He did what?” Suki said flatly. “He told you that?”

Shen moved his arm to blink at her. “It was heavily implied. That’s why the Fire Nation was
chasing him.” Suki was rubbing her forehead like she had a headache too. Shen sat himself
up a bit. “You didn’t know that?” If she didn’t know, why had she been making those faces?

Suki sighed out long and loud, dropping herself back on the uncomfortable mattress with a
thump. “It’s a good thing he’s so shit at lying or we would all be in trouble.”
“True, but I’m still lost.”

She considered. “I guess I know bits of it. But not the whole story, not that, certainly.” She
looked quite uncomfortable, grimacing slightly and avoiding his gaze. “I certainly knew the
Blue Spirit had some connection to the prince, but not that the ship had been blown up by
him.” She seemed to be choosing her words carefully. “And I knew that Zhao had issues with
the Blue Spirit and Price Poncy Pants.” She was speaking about him with familiarity. Shen
could almost hear Sokka’s voice describing Ozai’s son as Prince Poncy Pants. Just like he had
described him as ‘an arsehole’ when speaking to Bato. This was definitely something the kids
had been discussing between themselves, and for whatever reason, were reluctant to speak to
him about.

“I feel like I’m out of the loop talking to you three sometimes,” he said, pulling back their
blanket and dumping it on top of her.

Suki wormed her head free and pushed him around to make a comfortable pillow. “Well,
you’re old, you probably just don’t understand the youth.”

“I’m not old. I’m in my prime.” No matter he felt two decades past his actual age right now.
“Go to sleep, you menace. I’m going to the lower ring to search tomorrow.” He could already
feel sleep tugging him down. He would worry about dead princes and secrets tomorrow.

Shen began his evening’s search at the edge of the lower ring. He had stuck with the docks
first, as it was busy all night and there were always people to talk to. But he needed to start
working his way outward into the city herself.

Some people had been helpful, others scornful and dismissive. He was directed to the guard a
number of times, but he had been avoiding them as much as possible. He suspected he was
very military in his behaviour and bearing, hard not to be after a lifetime of service. But
people didn’t really leave the army, not unless they were injured. So an able-bodied military
man without his unit… he wasn’t sure the guard was a risk he should take. Not yet, at least.

Also, it was clear that there was something odd going on in the city. Usually you could build
a rapport, make a connection with people by talking about the world’s troubles, especially
those of personal concern. But here, any mention of what was happening outside the walls
was met with everything from dismissal to fearful denial.

With that in mind, his need to find the boys was hampered by not wanting to draw too much
attention to them, especially Zuli’s dubious heritage, not until he had a better grasp on the
situation. Sokka’s blue eyes were unusual enough to be a useful identifying feature without
having to bring too much notic to Zuli's scared face. Shen had been far more concerned about
drawing attention to the boy’s golden eyes at the beginning of his search, but after talking to
people on the docks and in the lower ring, he had found Zuli might not stick out as much as
he had feared. Apart from what appeared to be numerous folk with mixed heritage, there also
seemed to be a number of people that he would bet were from the Fire Nation mainland. It
was shocking, and very worrying at first, but some of them had been the most helpful in his
search. They seemed to be fully integrated, some with their own mixed families. It was
strange that a city that had been under siege for six hundred days had somehow become a
haven for this particular type of refugee.

But it stood to reason those with mixed blood or families might be the ones to become most
invested in his hunt. There seemed to be a network of sorts, helping those who had come to
the city more recently, or were being smuggled in. People of mixed heritage were more
vulnerable, with the guard less interested in rescuing them from traffickers and the unpleasant
fate that awaited many of them behind the walls.

Shen’s contact in this network was a short, robust man about fifteen years his senior, who
seemed very enthusiastic about helping. It had seemed a little odd to Shen until Bowen had
invited him home for dinner and introduced him to his very obviously Fire Nation wife. He
realised Bowen’s accent was unfamiliar too, the colonies probably. It was possible he was
part Fire, but he could also have been fully Earth, just raised under Fire Nation rule.

Shen had been lucky, really, his farm had been raided and burnt, but at least his family had
lived in Earth Kingdom territory, at least they had been free.

The first night he had sat at their table and shared their food he noticed that when Bowen
threw his head back to laugh at his wife’s really rather insulting joke, he didn’t have the
pronounced bump in his throat that Shen thought most men had. His voice had a light timber
too, despite his barrel chest. Not Shen’s business, of course, but it did make him wonder
about the reasons there were so many Fire folk here, the reasons why they had left to live
among their enemies.

It reinforced the vague idea he’d been thinking about since East Lake; that there were a
surprising amount of Fire Nation citizens who were unhappy with the Fire Lord, unhappy
with the restrictive laws, with the grind of the war machine that chewed up and spat out its
own people the same as it did those from the Earth Kingdom.

He found that despite the fact this couple were Fire in one way or another, he trusted them.
They would gain nothing from their nation winning, and everything from staying free here in
the city.

Now he stopped in every few days, sometimes with Suki before his search began for the
night, to exchange news or to drop off their shopping in exchange for dinner. Although,
admittedly, sometimes it was second dinner, having eaten on the ship first, but he was a big
guy, he could eat a lot. He enjoyed their company. Bowen had a stupid sense of humour that
Shen enjoyed, and Nanako had a sharp sarcastic tongue. She wore her greying black hair
loose, with a green ribbon holding back the section that in her homeland would be worn as a
topknot.

“If he comes to the city and finds his own kind, we’ll hear about it.” Bowen said. He pushed
over a bowl of something red and potent smelling. He was sweating profusely as he ate. “It’s
good, honest. Just takes a bit of getting used to.” He grinned.

“Er, no I’m good, thanks,” Shen said. It smelt good, but he wasn’t sure he would be able to
cope with something that made the other man bright red and perspire like he had run from
one side of the city to the other.

Bowen shrugged and used his chopsticks to pick out another bit of something from the pile of
spices and vegetables.

“How’s your search going?” Nanako asked, setting down a dish that was less vibrant in
colour but smelt just as delicious.

Shen stuck some fried meat and vegetables into his mouth, chewing rapidly before
answering. “Not great. I’m going to have to move away from the docks now and into the
lower ring properly.”

“Be careful. Once you leave the docks, there’s a curfew. You have to tread quick and careful
to avoid the Dai Li.”

“The secret police?” Ayano had mentioned them, told him much the same thing.

“Yeah, essentially. You do not want to be caught breaking curfew. There’s been unrest in the
city. The refugees inside, the rumours of the refugees outside. People are worried about a
siege. Worried about food.” Bowen sighed, taking a moment to eat another pickle. “Things
are always tough in the lower ring, but it’s on the edge of being really bad.” His round, ruddy
face was serious for once.

“I thought they would be keeping a lid on that shit?”

“Yeah, they're trying, hence the curfew. But I heard certain factions have been raiding the
fields. The guard and the Dai Li aren’t always on the same side, either. There’s tension,
competitiveness between them. Just be careful, Shen. And make sure to leave the girl
behind.”

No fear of that. He knew he was being a bit overprotective, a bit smothering, even though
Suki took it with a certain amount of grace, but the apparent fruitlessness of his search was
starting to steal what little sleep he had left. He had been so certain the kids would already be
in the city, and the lack of any sightings was terrifying. He wondered if something had
happened to them. Had they been recaptured? Had they been unable to get in? He was
kicking himself for not checking the camps first. He had been so convinced the Blue Spirit
could just break into the city with no problem. Maybe he could, but Sokka didn’t have the
same skill set. Of course, he brought different skills to the table and Shen was sure if there
was another way in, the kid would find it.

It wasn’t very reassuring.

He left his friends with a full stomach and a clawing anxiety in his gut and headed into the
city. There was a strange energy in the empty streets, and discussions about the secret police
had him feeling unnerved.

He kept to the shadows as much as he could, heading into the city proper, towards some
establishments that ignored curfew and ran a thriving trade for those willing to take the risk.
 People there would sell information with little issue.

As he stepped from the safety of the darkness under the overhang of a large building, he
heard a noise, a mournful bellow. It was familiar. Shen turned and followed the sound, now a
sad rumbling.

In the middle of a deserted crossroads between buildings, was Appa. The animal turned its
gigantic head as he approached and he reached out a hand.

“Hi,” he greeted it, wincing a bit. “You remember me?”

He let it snuffle at his fingers and petted its fur cautiously. He felt a small burst of panic.
What was he supposed to do with it? Leave it here? Take it with him? How was he going to
hide an enormous, supposedly extinct beast on a ship full of pirates?

The other important question was, why was it here? Why would such a creature head for a
huge city and not… wherever they came from? Was it looking for the Avatar? Did that mean
he was here somewhere?

“Hey, big guy,” he said, and it rubbed its nose on him in a way he thought meant it was happy
with the petting and soft words. “We’ll figure something out,” he told it. The touch of the
fuzz under his hands was soothing. “Do you remember Suki? If you want, we can go see
her?” He felt quite stupid asking a big cow if it wanted to go see his friend, but he didn’t stop
stroking it, stepping closer and running his other hand along its huge fluffy neck.

There was no warning at all. No sound, no shiver of fear. The earth suddenly opened under
their feet, and they were falling. Shen had no time to do anything but automatically tighten
his grip on the fur, he didn’t even have time to scream.

Chapter End Notes

So much art this chapter! It makes me so bloody happy, I can’t thank you all enough<3

If I ever miss any, or mess up a link, please send me a message and I will add you in!

Lovethebluebox shared this perfect pic of Sokka and the Rock of Victory
Here

mmaurysiek shared many more amazing pictures! Please take a look, and check of some
of their other stuff for other fic’s too!

Azula and Jianjun

Here
The chopsticks scene
Here

Tu and Li
Here

Hakoda, Mai Lee and Ruoxi

Here

Tu and Hua
Here

Sexyorganmusic shared the boys doing the hair ritual (please pay special attention to
Aang and Katara in the background, they are amazing)
Here

Smallsinger5901 Shared another wonderful picture! This time of Tu having his moment
of realisation from a memory
Here

buckartpail shared Everyones fav, Dumpling, looking like she might take a bite out of
you <3
Here

The amazing dickpuncherdraws shared The boys doing the hair thing, plus some of the
OC’s and they look awesome!
Here

Please go give them some love!

Also there is a link to the discord here if anyone is interested :)

Here

Next chapter:
The Gaang experience some nice surprises and some less nice surprises. Jet starts a new
job and gets involved in a missing persons case. Tu’s anxiety does not improve. And
Azula arrives in town (or brings fire and destruction to town, whatever)
 Chapter 37
Chapter Summary

What had he fallen into the middle of?

Chapter Notes

Thank you all for the amazing comments and kudos!

Warnings: Brief discussion about a trans person without entirely appropriate language.

Many thanks to my beta burkesl17, who has managed to wrangle my dyslexic nonsense.
All mistakes are my own.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The trip back to the guardhouse was tense. But they seemed very solicitous of Toph. A tiny,
green-eyed blind girl just seemed to trigger protective instincts in them. It could also be her
cultured way of speaking. She may have had no manners, but there was no way she was
common born. Tu himself tried to keep his mouth shut. After saying he was her brother, the
lie would be rather obvious as soon as anyone paid attention to the way he spoke. And the
less he sounded like Li, the better.

Jet was still working the guard captain in a way that was so skillful it made Tu profoundly
uncomfortable. He couldn’t unpack why though, he just wanted a bed to curl up in maybe for
the next five years. He was exhausted, almost too tired to take in the endless, dark streets
around them.

His eyes felt scratchy with the need to sleep by the time they reached the guardhouse, and his
stomach was rumbling painfully. He hoped the other people had escaped, that Ying and her
baby were okay. But he couldn’t spare much energy worrying about them, too focused on
staying upright while being herded into the building.

“Right,” Kang said. “Take these kids and put them in with the other ones.” He turned to them.
“You can rest up here. We’ll get some food brought to you, and we can sort things out in the
morning. Jet? Mind if I have a word?”
Jet nodded and stayed back as the rest of them trooped after the lady they had been handed
off to. Tu noticed Li was sticking with Jet, clearly reluctant to leave him alone with Kang,
even though he appeared to be no threat.

The lady opened the door and ushered them inside. “In here. I’ll bring food.” She seemed
glad to be rid of them.

There was a group of kids tucked into one of the small beds. Three of them maybe, but it was
hard for Tu to take in what he was seeing. One was bright with Chi, like Li was or Toph, and
one was blinding. It was nothing that Tu had seen before and it made him feel a little sick just
watching, slightly disorientated from the wrongness of it. It wasn’t bad, just too much for one
body to handle. Li and Toph were like a bonfire to Tu’s candle, but this kid was like the sun.
It was staggering.

The sun boy sat up. He seemed to be wearing some sort of hat or cloth wrapped around his
head.

“Hi!” he said with a sleepy grin. His voice woke the other two, and they sat up with a jolt, the
other boy blindly reaching for weapons and the girl, tense and startled.

“What’s going on?” the girl asked, blinking against the light.

“Katara?” Smellerbee said, sounding shocked.

Still a bit dazed, Tu realised Momo was struggling in his arms, and he released the little
creature. It flew out of Tu’s grasp straight at the sun boy, who caught it in a tight hug with a
happy cry.

“Momo!” His face was beaming even brighter than his Chi and his voice was choked with
tears.

“Hello, Twinkle Toes!” Toph said, and there was a flurry of motion as all three of the kids
scrambled out of the bed at once, falling all over each other like puppies.

“Toph!”

Everyone started yelling at once, and Toph was swallowed up by hugging kids. Tu was
standing beside her and was somewhat caught up in the melee. It was like being in a storm of
Chi and warm bodies.

“Is Zuko with you?” the taller boy asked, quiet and urgent, but loud enough for Tu to hear,
although he wished he hadn’t.

“Li is outside, being stroppy,” Toph said.

Zuko. The name of Fire Lord Ozai’s first born. Tu felt another wave of dizziness, this one
like he was reeling from an impact. He had almost convinced himself he had been completely
wrong, that the resemblance to Ursa had been a mistake. But this couldn’t be a coincidence.
But how could this be? What did it mean? What was he supposed to do with this
information?

“Are you alright, Tu?” Smellerbee asked, one hand on his arm. “You look like you’re going
to puke.”

He shook his head and Smellerbee stood back as Li, Zuko, strode into the room, stopping and
staring for a moment.

“Li!” Sun Boy shouted, and the other boy, the one whose Chi was blessedly normal,
untangled himself from the others, almost tripping over Toph in the process and launched
himself at Zuko, Li.

Safer to still think of him as Li. Ash and bone, he was never going to get a handle on this.

Li jerked forward at the same time and they crashed together in a tangled hug that looked
painful. The other two new kids rushed in too and they almost went down in a pile again.

Tu closed his eyes for a moment. Breathing and letting the excited chatter wash over him. He
opened them again at a rough touch on his arm. Toph.

“Okay?” she asked. “Your heart is going wild.”

“Yeah,” he managed. “Just tired. Bit dizzy.”

The girl, Katara, had detangled herself and had Sun Boy by the sleeve, she was glaring at
Smellerbee and Longshot who had retreated toward the door. The two boys were still
hugging.

“The not boyfriend?” Tu said quietly, as if he had to ask.

“Yup,” Toph grinned, her fingers still digging into his arm. “They’re fighting. You want to
place bets on whether they remember that and get huffy, or forget they’re in public altogether
and smooch?”

The other boy’s hands were all tangled in Li’s short hair, so they were being quite scandalous
already, even without kissing.

“I’m too tired for this,” he said weakly.

Then Jet walked into the room, smirk firmly in place.

Katara snarled, her pretty face changing into something fierce and ready to bite. She flipped
open the water skin she must have been wearing even in bed, and motioned her arms. The
water flew out and across the room. Tu couldn’t help the startled squeak that left him, and he
stumbled backwards as the water hit Jet and turned to ice, binding him to the wall.

Tu had never seen waterbending before, although he had heard stories. Frightening ones. He
stared at the girl, who looked ready to fight a whole army. Smellerbee and Longshot moved
in front of Jet, but they didn’t attack, just waited.
“Jet,” Katara said, with real anger.

Jet’s voice was calm when he spoke. “Listen, I know we have history, but we’re just here
looking for a place to live. Somewhere safe.” His face was very serious, but not afraid of the
situation he was in. “I regret what happened, what I did. I’ve changed. You don’t have to
believe me, but it’s the truth. I don’t want to be blinded by hate anymore. I just want to live.
Help people, maybe.” He looked earnest, excruciatingly so.

Tu was confused, and clearly missing a lot of context. By the look on Li’s face, he was
equally baffled. Toph seemed impassive, although there was a slight wrinkle of concentration
on her brow.

“Katara,” the not boyfriend said. “Let him down. If the guard comes in and sees this, we’re
going to have some explaining to do.”

Katara scowled. Her breath was coming hard with anger. She clearly felt personally upset by
Jet’s presence. And knowing Jet as he did, Tu thought that was probably quite telling. He
hooked people by offering them things they wanted. If that was found to be false, it probably
pissed them off quite a lot. She snorted angrily and released him; the ice turning back to
water and soaking into Jet’s clothes before hitting the floor. He stood still and relaxed,
although Tu wasn’t sure if he shouldn’t just start running, Katara still looked like she was
going to beat him to death with her bare hands if she was forbidden from using waterbending.

“Do you know each other?” Li asked. Toph snorted, grinning a little at the question, or
perhaps the very obvious answer.

“We’ve met,” Jet said dryly. “I didn’t leave a very good impression.”

“No, you tried to...”

“Katara,” not boyfriend interrupted. “Not here.” She glared at him. But shut her mouth with
an angry, audible snap. Tu got the impression she was imagining it was Jet’s throat between
her teeth.

Almost like he had been summoned, Guard Commander Kang strode into the room, along
with the woman from earlier, who held a large pot of something that smelled good in one
hand and several bowls in the other.

“Right,” Kang said. “I see you are all getting acquainted.” If he sensed the tension, he didn’t
comment on it, or the puddle of water under Jet’s feet. “Here’s soup. I brought bowls for
everyone. I’m sure you first lot will be wanting seconds.” He surveyed them all. Even his
moustache looked tired and fed up with the sight of them. “Tomorrow, we will sort out what
to do with you. For now, eat, get sleep.”

“Thank you, Commander Kang,” Jet said politely. “We are very grateful for your help.”

“Thank you!” Sun Boy said, still hugging Momo.

Kang sighed and grunted an acknowledgement. When he left, there was no sound of a key
turning.

The atmosphere in the room was awkward. Katara had returned to glaring at Jet. And Li and
the not-boyfriend were now staring at each other too. Not boyfriend looked wound up, and Li
furious, but he often did, so it was hard to tell if he was angry at his friend or not.

“So!” Toph clapped her palms together. “Seems you folk all know each other already! That’s
handy. And there’s soup, so instead of freezing people to walls, how about we sit and eat?
What do you say, Sugar Queen?”

Tu presumed she was speaking to Katara, but the girl in question showed no sign of lessening
her glare.

Sun Boy looked briefly between her and Jet, and then turned to Tu. “I don’t know you, I’m
Aang!” He grinned like… well, like a sunbeam.

“I’m Tu,” Tu said, bemused and overwhelmed.

Jet was looking at him with concern and gestured him over as he sat on one side of the pot.
Tu sank down beside him gratefully. He was a strong and solid presence, even if he was
frightening sometimes. At least he couldn’t freeze you to death.

Li joined them, pointedly sitting on Jet’s other side and helping himself to food.

“This is Katara and Sokka,” Aang introduced his friends. “Were you looking after Momo?”

“Yeah.” Tu clutched his bowl of warm soup. It smelt good, and he remembered he was
starving. He lifted the bowl to his lips and watched as Katara sat with a scowl and a thump.
She could give Li a run for his money when it came to expressing her displeasure.

Li himself was glowering into his bowl, very obviously ignoring his not boyfriend, who
looked extremely pained.

“Sooo,” Toph said again, drawing the word out. She seemed to be amused by all the tension
in the air. “I’m going to go out on a limb and say the last time you guys met, things didn’t end
well?”

“You could say that,” Katara said.

“I meant what I said.” Jet looked regretful, but his eyes were sharp and watchful. “I’m truly
sorry for everything, Katara. Aang.” He twitched a quick grin towards the other boy.
“Sokka.”

“Whatever,” Sokka said.

“He’s telling the truth,” Toph said. “At least he believes he is.”

Jet cocked his head at her. “You can tell that?”

“Yeah. Heartbeat. Your body reacts when you lie.”

“Interesting.”

That was something Tu wished he didn’t know. He could feel himself start to sweat, even
though he hadn’t told any big lies to her. Only Jet.

“We’re looking for Appa,” Aang said, as he drank his own soup. “He got stolen.” He glanced
at Sokka briefly, then at Li. “And some other stuff. But mostly Appa. Have you seen him?”

“No,” Jet said regretfully. “But listen, Kang offered me a job. I’m sure it’s just crap work, but
it will put me in a good position to dig about a bit. If there is anything here to find, I’ll find
it.”

“That would be great, thank you,” Aang said, serious and sad.

“Who would offer you a job?” Katara asked, the spite in her words not remotely subtle.

Jet shrugged, leaning back on his hands casually. “I can fight, and they’re short staffed. I was
very charming.” He grinned, but let the expression fall off his face at her continued scowl.

“Aren’t we getting ahead of ourselves?” Katara said. “Why should we trust what he says? He
lies like he breathes. Sorry, Toph, but I still just can’t accept his words at face value.”

Jet leant forward, sincere and intense. “Let me earn back your trust, Katara. Let me make
amends.”

“We need to figure other things out too,” Sokka said, tearing his gaze away from Li. “Like
getting out of here and finding somewhere to stay.” He narrowed his eyes and looked at Jet
considering. “If you really want to earn back our trust, I could have another job for you.”

Jet nodded at him.

“The guard said they were going to raid a brothel where they keep kids. The people that
smuggled us in were involved. We want to make sure they actually take action.”

Jet’s eyes darkened, his face looked frightening in the lamplight, it made the hair on Tu’s
arms stand up. But his voice was even when he spoke. “I will make sure. Even if we part
ways and never speak again, I will make sure of it.”

Sokka watched him for a moment, then nodded. “As to parting ways... we will have to make
a decision on that, too. We’ll have to take a vote on it.”

There were nods. On Tu’s other side, Smellerbee let out a breath.

Sokka looked at his own people. “All those in favour of a very cautious team up until we
have the lay of the land?”

Tu chewed his lip as Li and Toph put their hands up, followed by Aang, although he was
glancing cautiously at Katara. Sokka was still staring at Jet like he was weighing up his
options, although his vote didn’t matter, as it was already three to two.

“Everyone deserves a second chance,” Aang said. He grinned at Li as he said it, but the other
boy was back to glaring at the floor.

Sokka nodded. “Okay, well, I guess that settles it.”

“Can someone tell me?” Toph said, annoyed. “Hands up is an unfair system when you're all
wound up, drinking soup and shifting about like you’ve got fleas.”

Sokka winced. “Sorry. It was in favour.” He pointed a finger at Jet, and moved it across to
take in Tu, Smellerbee and Longshot. “But it doesn’t mean we trust you. Just that we need to
pool resources.”

Jet let out a breath, looking relieved. An expression that Tu suspected was cultivated, even if
the emotion was true.

“Tomorrow we will find somewhere to live. We have some money,” Sokka said.

“Shen’s money,” Li said.

“Yeah, Shen’s money that he gave to us to use as needed,” Sokka said evenly, carefully not
responding to the challenge in Li’s voice. That was going to explode at some point, it was
clear Li wanted a fight, even to Tu, who knew neither of them very well. “So Jet and I will go
and find something tomorrow,” Sokka continued in the same measured tone.

“Perfect!” Aang said, cutting off Li’s response. “Let's eat!” He leaned forward to refill his
bowl. As he reached for the pot, his long sleeves pulled back, revealing a flash of blue on his
wrist. Tu stared at it. A tattoo. Who tattooed a child? He had never heard of anyone who did
that in the Earth Kingdom or the Fire Nation or anywhere else.

Well, that wasn’t totally true. His history books told him that the Air Nomads used such a
cruel initiation, but only very rarely practised it on children so young. Only those who
achieved mastery of their element unnaturally early.

Like the Avatar.

Tu stared at the boy as he clutched his lemur and chatted at Li. Bright like the sun.

The Avatar.

That would explain the Chi.

Tu felt dizzy again. His eyes slid back to Li, to Zuko, exiled son of the Fire Lord.

What had he fallen into the middle of?

How did he get out of it?

………………

Sokka apologised vaguely to yet another person he had bumped into on the busy street. He
was struggling to focus on the problem at hand, instead his mind was fixed on anxious
thoughts of Zuko.

When he had first seen him walk into the room with his habitual stalk, Sokka’s whole heart
had lurched, his gut had felt tight and high and there was a feeling like a burst of light
somewhere in his chest. He didn’t care about their argument, just the feeling of unbelievable
relief. He had thrown himself at his friend and caught him in an embrace so tight it felt like
the world was righting itself at the same time it was tilting wildly. Zuko had gripped him
back, arms clutching him too hard, and the familiar smell of his sweat was soothing right to
Sokka’s core.

He had wanted to kiss him. Really wanted to, sensible or not, but he had enough presence of
mind to recognise that was a bad idea right now for multiple reasons.

He’d had his hands in Zuko’s hair, feeling his breath on his neck, and for a moment it felt like
everything was going to be okay. Right until Zuko had pushed him back and he’d seen his
face. He was still angry. Apocalyptically so. Initial relief at their survival or not, this wasn’t
over.

He had sat through the rest of their discussions half in a daze, he could feel Zuko’s anger
hitting him in waves, even when he wasn’t being glared at. Zuko had deliberately placed
himself by Jet, drawing a line with his allegiance.

Sokka had managed to resist any of Zuko’s obvious attempts to goad him into a fight. When
they had the inevitable messy discussion it needed to be when they were alone. And certainly
away from Jet. He had no idea if Zuko knew how dangerous his new friend was to him,
specifically.

He had volunteered himself and Jet to look for a place to live partly to get out of there, to
give himself a moment to think through the situation, and partly to get Jet away from Zuko.
And Katara, for his own safety.

The downside of this was he was now stuck treading the streets of Ba Sing Se with the
bastard. Not something he was enjoying.

Once they had convinced him that, yes, they really did have money and means to support
themselves, the guard commander had given them a recommendation of a landlord they could
try, deep in the lower ring. He said he was a decent man who wouldn’t fleece them, and
wasn’t too hard on refugees, so long as they had money.

Sokka couldn’t believe Kang had offered Jet a job. Actually, perhaps he could, Jet was
extremely good at manipulating people and exploiting any opportunity available to him.
“So,” Jet said as they walked. “You and Li seem to have some tension?” He looked
completely earnest and not like he was trying to be an arsehole, or digging for information,
but Sokka didn’t believe it for a moment.

“We have some things to work out. It’s not your business, dickhead.”

Jet laughed. “I suppose I deserve that. I am trying, Sokka. I’m going to keep my head down,
do my best.”

“Tell it to someone who cares,” Sokka said. He paused and when Jet stopped with him, Sokka
poked him hard in the chest. “And stay away from my sister.”

Jet grimaced. “I’m pretty sure she would drown me if she could.”

“Which you would deserve. I mean it, Jet. Apart from apologies, I want you to stay away
from her. You hurt her. If you do it again, I will hurt you, do you understand me?”

“Yes.” His face was serious. “Are you going to threaten me to stay away from Li, too?”

Fuck he wanted to, he wanted to dump him in one of the narrow waterways in the city and
watch him be washed out to the sea.

“No. Li is responsible for himself. He can make his own choices,” Sokka said with gritted
teeth. If he tried to make Jet stay away, it would backfire, he knew it. Jet would use it to
manipulate the situation somehow. Best to be neutral now, and more forceful about the
dangers with Zuko, if he got the opportunity before his friend set him on fire.

He hated this. The need to go back and have things out with Zuko, to make things right, was
burning at him. But he had to do what he had to do. And so they walked on.

The city itself was the biggest place he had ever seen. Unlike Agna Qel’a, which had grand,
beautiful structures, the lower ring was just street after street of people and buildings and
stuff. The market streets were particularly intense, people selling pots and pans, trinkets,
clothes and strange, awesome looking foods. The smell and sound of it was twenty times
worse than the camp outside the walls. It was like being boxed around the head with a
sensory overload. In other circumstances, Sokka might have enjoyed it, as long as he could
have retreated somewhere quieter when he was done with exploring. He was honestly
shocked there were so many people. All of them intent on their lives, doing their thing,
whatever that might be. Some called out to him, selling items or asking for money. Most
pushed past, perhaps rushing about their day or just annoyed at yet another refugee taking up
their resources. Dressed as they were, travel stained and tattered, there was no mistaking
them for citizens.

Above them at intervals there was some sort of transportation system that made a rattling,
grating thunder of sound as it passed overhead and Sokka itched to get a better look. It
seemed far more grand than the postal system in Omashu.

“Come on, Sokka,” Jet said. An unfortunate reminder of his presence. “Stop gawking like a
country bumpkin.”
Sokka snapped his mouth shut and scowled. Jet was the country bumpkin, Sokka was a
tourist.

The landlord seemed doubtful for about thirty seconds, until Jet got his metaphorical hooks
in, then he was practically eating out of his hand, hanging on every word of the sad story he
was weaving. Poor Toph was from a noble family separated from her parents. Jet, one of her
trusted retainers, was taking responsibility for her...blagh, blagh, blagh. It was scary how
good he was at lying, blending enough truth to make it plausible. Sokka decided not to think
about how it compared with his own efforts with the Earth Army and his father.

He spent the next ten minutes not thinking about that so hard he missed the rest of the
negotiation and only came back to himself with Jet’s hand on his arm.

“That was easy enough,” Jet said, as they made their way back through the tight, bustling
streets.

Sokka grunted. His stupid brain had jumped from angsting about possible similarities to Jet
right back into the Zuko worry. He couldn’t quiet his mind enough to think his way through
what he needed to say when he got the chance. While they had been separated, he had been
focused on getting him back. Not what would happen when he did.

“You seem pensive,” Jet said, apparently determined to talk to him. “Are you still angry at
me, or worrying about Li?”

Sokka hated that Jet was so perceptive. Hated it.

“You know,” Jet continued, looking at him out the corner of his eye. “I would have thought
you would be the one who understood what I was trying to do before.”

Ugh. Not what he needed. “You were willing to drown civilians. Earth civilians. Children,
Jet. Why would you think that? Because I’m pragmatic?” He scoffed. “Yeah, I am. I know
sometimes we have to sacrifice the few to save the many. That’s not what you were doing.
There wasn’t going to be anyone left to enjoy their freedom once you were done with them.”

Jet hummed, long legs carrying him forward with an almost bouncy gait. “Wouldn’t you
rather die free?”

“I would rather not die at all. Death is pretty final. At least if you’re alive, there’s the chance
of things changing. And you shouldn’t be the one to make that choice for others!”

But Sokka’s mind was starting to stay to East Lake. They had freed so many prisoners, but
how many had died for their freedom? How many had died for the possibility of it, and how
many had no choice but to run or fight? Pushed into it by Sokka’s actions. They might still be
alive if he hadn’t devised the plan he had.

He shuddered, feeling sick. He hated the fact Jet’s dark eyes were on him, assessing, like he
knew. But the bastard remained blessedly quiet for the rest of the trip back to the guardhouse.
Team Avatar gathered in the small room Sokka had reserved for himself and Zuko, should he
want to join him rather than murder him.

Being in the same space as Zuko was, well, not torture, he knew exactly what that felt like,
but it was something of the emotional equivalent. Sokka needed to speak to him, to clear the
air. But as always, other matters had to be dealt with first.

“We need to keep an eye on Jet,” Katara began.

“And we need to find Appa. That’s why we’re here,” Aang put in. “We have to find him.”

“Right,” Sokka said. “But carefully, we can’t be going around asking after a sky bison. It
might raise a few eyebrows.”

Aang looked like he was going to argue, but Sokka held up a hand. “I’m not saying we don’t
look, just we have to be smart about it. And-” He paused. This was awkward, but it had to be
discussed. “We have to find a way to speak to the Earth King about the drill.”

“That’s why you wanted to come here, isn’t it?” Zuko asked, voice rough and furious. “That’s
the only reason.”

Sokka wet his lips. “We can talk about it after, Zu. Right now, we need to decide what to do
as a group.”

“I don’t give a fuck.”

“Please, Zuko,” Katara said. “We really need your input. Ignore Sokka for the moment, think
about the rest of us. What will happen to all the people here if we don’t do something?”

Katara was the mediator, when she wasn’t the one picking the fight, but her appealing to
Zuko was still surprising. The fact it seemed to be working was even more unexpected. He
was taking breaths, doing his calming meditation.

Zuko closed his eyes for a moment, then sat straighter, taking on his assertive posture. “The
Avatar is the obvious way. Either that or we break in. They are not going to admit a bunch of
scruffy refugees into the middle ring, let alone the palace.”

“We can get new clothes. Oh!” Aang brightened. “We can get disguises!” He grinned at
Sokka, but he couldn’t join in the enthusiasm. What with all the crushing weight of anxiety
and misery.

“We use the Avatar thing as a last resort only,” Sokka said. “Disguises and subterfuge are
probably our best option for now.”

“You’re good at those,” Zuko said. And he was just being mean, lashing out because he was
hurt, but it struck a bit close to home after Sokka’s previous thoughts and he had to clamp
down on another wave of unpleasant feelings.
“Spirits above,” Toph said from where she was sprawled on the floor, picking her toes.
“Grumpy, beat him up after we’re done. If you keep trying to fight, we’ll be here all night,
and I’m hungry.”

Zuko huffed and glared at her, but at least he wasn’t glaring at Sokka.

It gave him a moment to think. “Right, we should split our resources, try to cover as much
ground as possible. We need practical things, like extra income and stuff for the house. Food,
bedding, more cook pots, or at least a bigger one as there are a lot of us. I say we send Jet’s
crew out to cover those things.”

There were nods. Right, Sokka was the plan guy. He still had it despite the fact his stomach
felt like he was going down that Omashu postal shoot again. “The rest of us divide and
conquer. Aang, Katara, you look for Appa. Toph and I will investigate how best to see the
Earth King. Zuko…” Zuko glared at him. “You have talents in both finding stuff and
breaking and entering, so perhaps you can help both teams. Start with Appa while we look at
our options. Then, if we can’t find a legitimate way to get in to see the king, come on board
for the second stage of the plan, sound reasonable?”

“Yes,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Okay!” Toph said. “I’m hungry, let's sort food and let these two morons figure things out.
No smashing up the room.” She wagged a finger in the general direction of both of them.

The others left so fast they were almost tripping to get out the door. Katara giving him
warning glares, and Aang sending him a double thumbs up. Spirits. He needed to have this
conversation, but now it was here he didn’t even know what to do.

Finally, they were alone and Sokka’s words had vanished.

He thought his motives had mostly been good, but not completely. Maybe there had been an
element of doubt there—but it was a fear of losing his friend, not of what he might do with
the information on the schematics.

Without words, actions had to suffice. Sokka got down on his knees. The floor felt cold and
hard under his tatty Earth Kingdom trousers. He bent forward awkwardly and pressed his
forehead to the floor in the position Zuko had used when he had apologised after their fight
with Chen.

He felt this was the right way to express his feelings, but he didn’t like it. His people didn’t
do this. And despite the good intentions, it felt very uncomfortable to be doing it now.
Especially to a Firebender, best friend or not. But he didn’t know what else to do that would
have the impact he needed.

That made him think of Jet again, and emotional manipulation. All the feelings of doubt
came crashing back in and he clenched his eyes shut. Was he just doing this because it would
work? No matter the cost?

“Get up, Sokka,” Zuko said, his voice wobbly and thick with tears. “Get up.”
Sokka raised his head, but remained on his knees as Zuko thumped down in front of him, his
hands over his face.

“I’m sorry, Zu.”

“It hurt!” Zuko burst out, slamming his palms onto the dusty floor. “After everything, you
didn’t trust me. It hurt!”

“I know, I’m sorry. But it’s not how you think. What I said before is true.” Sokka sighed. He
hated seeing the misery on Zuko’s face, the tears in his eyes. He preferred the belligerence. “I
think I got too far into my own head. Projected my feelings onto you.”

“I don’t understand. That doesn’t sound better.”

“I imagined how I would feel if I had to choose between you and my dad. And I lost sight of
what you might actually be feeling.” He wasn’t sure if Zuko was understanding what he was
saying, his expression was hard to decipher with all the distress on it. “I didn’t want to make
you choose.”

“You don’t get to make that decision, Sokka. Isn’t that what you said to me? I took away your
choice by not telling you about your father?”

Sokka shrugged a little helplessly. It was inevitable there would be a comparison to their
previous fall out, but Sokka had to bite back the need to remind him how quickly he had been
forgiven for his transgression. Zuko’s issues and experiences were different from his. But
fuck, he wanted to just go with his emotional response, and not a measured, well thought out
one. “You’re right. I was being selfish. I don’t like to see you hurting or confused and
conflicted.”

“I would think that’s exactly what you want. To turn me against my people.”

Ah, there was the belligerence. The smears of tears on Zuko’s cheek added to the effect. It
was horrible.

“Your father, sure, but not your people.” Sokka wasn’t even sure that was actually true. He
would probably want him to completely turn against them if he could do so without hurting
himself. But that was just selfishness.

“I’m sorry I betrayed your trust,” Sokka said again. “My intentions were good, but that
doesn’t matter if it hurt you.”

Zuko sat and considered, staring at him, unblinking. “Shen knew too, and he didn’t tell me.”

Oh boy, there was another disaster in the making. Sokka wondered if it was actually the
double whammy of thinking Shen had also betrayed him that was making him so devastated.
The two people he really trusted. Ouch.

“He wanted to, I told him to leave it to me. I wanted to speak to you privately about it. He
accepted that. And it was my intention, it’s just…there was leaving the camp, then...Ro, and
then it just never felt like the right time.” Because he had been more and more frightened of
the response, the longer he left it. Resulting in this horrible mess. Spirits. “Everything was
just so raw. Honestly, I just didn’t want to hurt you any more than you were already hurting.”

Zuko said nothing, just stared at him.

“Shen has no idea who you really are, your history. He was acting in good faith. It’s different
for me, I know. You don’t have to forgive me, but I would like it if you could. I’ll do my best
to earn the trust back. Like you earned mine after the stuff with my dad.”

“I wasn’t wrong about that,” Zuko said, but he cocked his head a little, thinking. “But I was
sorry that I hurt you and betrayed your trust.”

“Yeah.” Sokka nodded. This sounded like a breakthrough. “I was wrong not to tell you. But
in my defence, it wasn’t because I didn’t trust you. I trust you with my sister’s life. That’s
something more precious to me than literally anything else in the universe. Although don’t
tell her that she’ll get a big head.” He tried a smile, but Zuko was staring at the floor, perhaps
working through his feelings.

“So what now?” Zuko said at last.

“We move forward if we can. Get on with the plan. You can stay in this room with me, or
elsewhere.” Which would be fucking devastating, but perhaps deserved.

Zuko stood gracefully, wiping his eyes with his sleeve and then glaring at the fabric like it
was at fault for him crying. He just stood there, looking a little hunched and awkward, with
the most kicked puppy version of a scowl on his face Sokka had ever seen. It was
disgustingly adorable. Disgusting.

Sokka reached forward, slow and obvious with his movements. He didn’t want to get
punched because of surprise touching, now he had apparently avoided it for crimes against
trust and friendship. “Are we back at the hugging stage?” he asked. Just in case.

“Yeah. Okay.”

Full of friendship and romance. Yeah. Okay. Amusement aside, those two words were music
to Sokka’s ears. It might take a bit of work getting him out of his funk, but he would be able
to do it. He was the Zuko whisperer, after all.

Zuko still had that stupid expression on his face when he reached for Sokka to draw him into
the hug, and Sokka again had the overwhelming urge to kiss him, like that might fix things,
somehow. Zuko looked like he was going for it, eyes hooded and mouth parted, but as Sokka
moved forward that last little bit, he turned his head so Sokka’s mouth hit his ear.

Sokka wasn’t sure if that was intentional or not and it made him feel horrible panic. Did he
avoid it because he hated Sokka now? (Unacceptable.) Because he was still mad at him?
(Acceptable.) or because he’d completely missed what Sokka was trying to do? (Quite
possible.)
But how could he tell? It wasn’t like he could ask; excuse me, please answer this multiple
choice question on your avoidance of kissing.

But on the upside, Zuko was squeezing him in a hug tight enough to make his ribs creak and
his breath come short. It was so good he couldn’t bring himself to ask him to be a little more
gentle with his strength.

There was something off about it, though. “Why are you so cold?” he asked.

“We discussed this. Because you betrayed my trust and hurt me,” he sounded annoyed Sokka
could have forgotten so quickly.

“No, I get that, I mean literally.” Sokka drew back and felt his cheek, then his forehead.
“You’re never this cold.”

“Oh. It’s a trick Tu taught me to lower my temperature and hide my bending.”

They could do that? “Tu’s a firebender? Does Jet know?” That could be a problem.

“No, Jet doesn’t like firebenders.”

“Yeah, no shit. Both of you need to be careful. Really careful. I’m not just saying that
because I don’t like him. He’s dangerous. To both of you.”

“He won’t find out.”

Sokka wasn’t so sure of that. Zuko was good at hiding what he was, but Tu was an unknown
factor. He would have to talk to the other boy, make sure he fully understood the danger he
was in, that he would put Zuko in, if he was discovered.

“Can you turn it on again?” he asked. And there was a sudden flood of warmth from Zuko’s
body, so familiar and welcome. Who could have possibly guessed that he would feel like that
about the warmth from a firebender’s body? His life was bizarre.

Sokka stayed wrapped in Zuko’s arms and lay his head against his shoulder. But the relief
was slightly overshadowed by a worry that made him feel like the worst sort of traitor. The
person Zuko had accused him of being.

When they had met back up with Katara and Aang, Zuko had sworn to protect them until Ba
Sing Se. Then they could renegotiate.

Well, they were here now, and circumstances being what they were, he didn’t think he could
just ask for ‘renegotiation’ or another promise. He was going to have to trust in Zuko, which
would have been a no brainer before this mess. But Zuko’s ideas of honour were very
complicated, and the trust Sokka had built up between them had been, if not broken, then
strained. As much as he knew his friend, he honestly wasn’t sure how it would fall in his still
unsteady world view. It troubled him. But there was nothing he could do but try to rebuild
things, make sure Zuko stuck with them because he wanted to.
Maybe it was better this way in the long run. He should help them because it was the right
thing to do, not because he had sworn an oath in complicated circumstances.

He tightened his grip a little. He would make it work. He had to.

……………………..

As their ship drew closer, Ba Sing Se came into view. The city was both imposing and
impressive, her walls were truly as dramatic as all the tales Kazuma had heard about them.
He very much hoped that Azula’s contraption to break through the solid stone was as good as
she thought it was. Otherwise, it might not just be refugees crushed against the impenetrable
walls.

“It’s quite something, hmm?” Iroh said from beside him, making him startle. He moved
remarkably quietly when he wanted to.

“Yes. Quite a sight.”

“You have not been here before? You didn’t fight here?”

Kazuma shifted a little, warming himself against the early morning breeze off the water. “No,
I was engaged in other matters at the time.”

He had been employed in Caldera, roped in to try and recover the kidnapped wife and son of
the Minister of Justice. It was one of a number of similar crimes over the years. At first, it
seemed just as simple as that. None of the women had been recovered, nor had their children.
Ransoms were sometimes collected, and sometimes not.

It had been framed as a plot against the Firelord, any funds from ransoms going towards
funding some shadowy cabal. Kazuma was one of many people brought on board to help find
the perpetrators and recover the victims. Of course, it was implied that deposing of the
kidnappers and rooting out their plotting was the primary goal.

Kazuma had decided to focus on the family itself, see if he could find out why they had been
the target, and how Haruko and her son could have been isolated and taken so skilfully. Like
all Fire Nation women, she had some level of military training, but coming from a noble
family who supported the new and more restrictive values of Azulon’s reign, that training had
not continued past its initial stages. But she had been surrounded by soldiers and guards and
personal attendants who were skilled with a blade.

His investigation had revealed certain things about the relationship between the Minister of
Justice and his wife, and Kazuma had started to wonder if it had been less of a kidnapping
and more of a rescue. Running with the thought, he had quietly looked into other noble
families who had suffered similar abductions. There was a pattern that he couldn’t deny.
Although he uncovered connections to other disappearances—family members of men and
women accused of crimes against the throne, people who had unpopular ideas, or those that
spread dissent, he had not reported them. He felt any unsubstantiated accusation might lead to
considerable harm to innocent people caught up in the hunt for traitors. Not to mention those
who may have used the network to flee from violence. He had agonised over it. His duty was
clear, but he had hesitated. In the end, the decision had been taken from him. One of the men
he had investigated had caught wind of his discovery about the treatment of his family, and
Kazuma had been unceremoniously transferred to the colonies.

As far as he knew, the case had never been resolved. He wondered sometimes if the network
was still running, and if it was actually more political than he had first suspected. If he had
done the right thing. He was also quite certain that almost all those involved on the ground
had been women, operating seamlessly under the noses of men who had been filling the
ruling positions in government, as per Azulon’s preferences. A policy that had continued into
Ozai’s reign.

Stupid to dismiss the skill and intelligence of half the population. Something Ozai’s own
daughter seemed set to prove.

“Perhaps that is best,” Iroh said, breaking him out of his thoughts. “Returning is a
melancholy business.”

Kazuma glanced at the older man. His mouth was turned down and his eyes were sad as he
gazed at the shining walls in the distance. The Dragon of the West had suffered a defeat here
that had led to the loss of his birthright, as well as the battle. But worse, Iroh had lost his son.
To return to the scene only six years later must be bitter indeed.

“Perhaps this time, the city will bring better fortune to us,” he said, turning slightly to watch
as princess Azula pointed an imperious finger at Jianjun in an effort to make him wear the
helmet she preferred for him.

The boy already looked very impressive with his ornate looking armour. He had fussed about
it until it could be modified to his liking, allowing full range of movement for the use of his
Guan Dao. Kazuma could relate. He hated wearing restrictive armour, and if he had to fight,
he would rather risk injury and be able to move freely and lightly.

Azula seemed to want Jianjun’s face covered by his headgear, probably to hide his age,
although it sounded like she was implying it was because the face in question was
objectionable. Naturally, Jianjun wanted the opposite, so people knew who he was. Not a
particularly good idea, but he wasn’t known for his critical thinking skills. The resulting
argument seemed quite heated and three discarded helmets lay on the deck. A fourth, in
Jianjun’s hands, looked ready to join its mates.

“I think they are having fun,” Iroh said, a small grin on his face, although the look of grief
hadn’t left him, lingering in the back of his eyes, the shape of his smile.

“I think you are right.” It was an odd… partnership. He hesitated to call it friendship, but it
might be, in some strange way, growing to be one.
Azula knocked the helm out of Jianjun’s hands and spun away from him. Her own armour
was lightweight and unremarkable, but perfectly fitted for her small body.

Jianjun yelled something, pointing at her with sharp jerky movements, then he kicked the
helmet so hard it sailed over Azula’s head and hit the deck. But not as fast as she did.
Seeming to sense the projectile, she ducked low, ready to strike it down, although it went
nowhere near her. Furious, she shot a blast of fire at him. It was aimed high and barely singed
his hair, but he didn’t even try to dodge, just yelled back at her.

“Do you think he was dropped on his head as a baby?” Kazuma asked, and Iroh snorted.

“Quite possibly. He does seem to have a lack of fear that might not be very good for his
continued good health.”

Azula turned to them as they approached, a look of extreme aggravation on her face.
“Kazuma, Fire Sage Mushi, we must talk.” Caught behaving childishly, she looked like an
indignant cat embarrassed after a tumble. “Below decks.” She spun around and strode down
the stairs, head held high.

Iroh was grinning more openly now. “Being dramatic runs in their blood. Their mother was
an actress, did you know?”

“No, I did not.” Kazuma was fairly sure that was the sort of thing the Fire Lord would have
rather people were unaware of. Bad enough people knew he had married a commoner.

“Why did she choose the name Mushi for you?” he asked as they headed towards the hatch
she had disappeared into.

“It’s a character from a play both she and her brother enjoyed as children.”

“I’m familiar with it. It’s not very flattering, given the context.”

“That’s true enough! But I confess, I rather enjoy it when she is frivolous and petty, don’t
you?”

“I suppose I do,” Kazuma admitted. “So long as it's not my hide she chooses to set on fire in
a fit of pique.”

Azula was completely composed when they entered her quarters. “We must discuss our
plans.” she said.

“Indeed. Perhaps some tea?”

“No tea. Sit.” She was clearly still very unhappy that her snit with Jianjun had been
witnessed.

Instead of concern, Kazuma found he mostly felt amusement. Probably very foolish of him.
Forgetting how dangerous she was could be a fatal mistake.
“Well then,” Iroh said as he followed her instructions and sat. His own voice was suddenly
very serious. “We have many issues to deal with. We have decided how best to navigate the
refugee situation. But another risk will be from Ozai himself.”

Kazuma also sat, careful not to wrinkle his robes. “He won’t move against us until he knows
if we will be successful.”

Iroh nodded. “You are correct. But he may send reinforcements to ‘help us,’ thus putting his
people in place if we win the battle.” He rubbed a hand over his beard. “I suspect from the
river. But perhaps also overland. This is Tsing’s battle to fight, he is going to be upset.”

“Troops coming overland will take too long,” Kazuma said. “He will send the infantry by
boat, disembarking them to fight as close as he can.”

Azula narrowed her eyes with a small, mean looking smile. “Good thing we have a fleet of
experienced warships at our disposal to stop them.”

“Yes,” Iroh agreed. “But in using Hakoda, we run the risk of trapping ourselves if things go
poorly for us.”

Their own ship had passed as far to the north of Hakoda’s fleet as was possible, disguised
among trading vessels, commandeered for the purpose of camouflage. But it had still been a
tense moment until they were clear. To be trapped between his ships, the Earth army and the
city herself was a huge risk. A terrifying one.

“We will succeed, Uncle. We must,” Azula said, calm and certain.

“You will then need to hold the city, my niece.”

“I will hold it.”

“First, we must claim it. As soon as they see your drill, the city will take action,” Kazuma
said.

“Only if they see what it is and deduce what it is capable of,” Azula said, coolly. “After
consideration I have taken your advice, Uncle, and sought resources that my father is too
arrogant to use.”

“Oh?” Kazuma was not reassured by the smirk on her face.

“General Iroh has very modern ideas about learning from our more pathetic enemies to better
ourselves.”

“I don’t think I put it quite like that,” Iroh said mildly.

“No matter,” Azula said dismissively. “Kazuma, I have a specific task for you when we dock.
Do try not to die.”

He really didn’t like the sound of that, or the fact she apparently intended to leave him in the
dark regarding their plans, but he bowed where he sat.
He had no choice but to do as he was ordered.

……………………

Life was… tense. Jet couldn’t really blame his new housemates. He and the Avatar’s group
had not parted on the best of terms, and that had been his fault. He had made some bad
choices, and losing his Freedom Fighters had compounded that knowledge. He had been
unbelievably shortsighted, so consumed with the need to carry out his plan to free the town,
he had failed to even consider the bigger picture. The Avatar. He was the greatest weapon
against the Fire Nation the world had seen in generations. And Jet had used him to help
drown a single town. Not a mistake he would make again. He wasn’t sure what he was going
to do now he had found him again. It sounded like Aang was planning to square up to the
Fire Lord himself, and it was Jet’s duty to do everything he could to make that happen.

But it was also his duty to help his friends and the people of this city. He had been here less
than a week and he was already shocked by the attitude of the place. It was nothing like he
thought it would be, people were ignorant, willfully so, and it stung.

He had accepted Kang’s invitation for an apprenticeship in the guard. It wasn’t a role he ever
would have chosen for himself, he found adults in authority tended towards ideas, attitudes
and behaviours he strongly disapproved of. It did offer the opportunity to integrate himself
though, to access the heart of the lower ring and possibly to learn about any major players
who might be more inclined to see things his way.

A wage, as shit as it was, couldn’t be sniffed at either. He didn’t like relying on Sokka’s
money. He could probably leave the house and set up on his own, especially if one of his
Freedom Fighters also managed to find work. But he didn’t want to leave the Avatar, or Toph
and Li. He had put work into Li, and he thought he was getting close to becoming friends
with him. It helped that he and Sokka seemed to be fighting.

He wasn’t sure exactly what to make of that relationship. They shared a room and a bed as far
as he could tell, but did not appear to be lovers. That left the door open for Jet if Li was
amenable. He certainly got flustered enough when Jet attempted any sort of physical contact.

Jet didn’t want to push, though. Although Li had shown some interest, there were certain
behaviours that indicated that he might have had some bad experiences in the recent past. Not
to mention the scarring on his wrists and body Jet would happily use sex to draw him in if
that’s what would work, it might even be fun, but it wasn’t necessary. If Li seemed inclined,
well, he would see how things played out.

Of course, his time with his new housemates was slightly limited now he had work. When
Kang had said apprentice, what he had actually meant was someone to do all the shit jobs.
Although he supposed he would build up to any actually interesting activities. In the
meantime, he carried messages, took reports from angry people, and made a lot of tea.
“Boy,” Kang said as Jet carefully poured him tea. The man was lost in an apparent sea of
paperwork. They liked their bureaucracy here. “Tell your friends we raided Madam Wang’s.
Freed the kids there. No need to be afraid.”

“Thank you, Commander. I know they were worried.” He would have to make sure that was
true later, check out the records, see if he could speak to any of the kids.

Kang grunted. “There’s another one at the desk looking for a lost father or friend or
something. Go take her report, file it with the others. Then I have some sorting for you.”

More paperwork. “Yes, Commander Kang.” He managed to keep the stupid, subservient,
grateful look on his face until he reached the door, then gave into the urge to roll his eyes up.
Take the report, file it with the others. No one even looked for the missing. Still, maybe he
could actually do some good. He felt positive as he headed to the front desk to listen to
another sad story of loss and angry confusion.

It was a girl his own age or a little younger. She looked furious, tapping her fist on the desk
with an air of threat.

“How can I help?” he asked solicitously. He gave her his most trustworthy smile, and she
scowled at him.

“Are you serious? They send me the tea boy?”

Jet belatedly realised he was still carrying the teapot, but he shrugged amiably. “The
guardhouse runs on tea. Pretty sure the whole city does.”

“I don’t care. I want to talk to someone who can actually do something. I’m not getting
fobbed off again.” Her bearing was determined, her feet firmly placed.

Jet considered her angry face for a moment. She wanted a fight, was prepared for one, but not
with him. That needed to change. “Tough shit. I’m all you're going to get,” he said, crossing
his arms with the teapot still in hand and mimicking her posture.

She snorted, eyes narrowing further, although she seemed amused. It didn’t matter though; he
had her attention.

“So?” he asked.

“I want to report a missing person,” she said.

He sighed. Of course she did. “Describe them, please, and how long they have been missing.
All the facts.”

“Aren't you going to write it down?”

“Later.” He had learnt to read and write, something he had paid a very high price for, but his
writing was not the most legible and would probably decrease his legitimacy, rather than
improve it. He had a good memory, he could do it in private, when he could take some time
to get it right.
She pursued her lips, looking him up and down again. “His name’s Shen. He’s tall, dark skin
and hair, brown eyes,” she said at last. “Been missing for a week.”

“You’re going to have to give me more detail than that.”

She huffed at him, expression cross. “I know. I wasn’t finished. He’s in his thirties, I think. A
big guy. Got a scar here.” She indicated a line down the side of her jaw. “He’s not from the
city.”

Jet nodded. Nobody liked his next question, she would be no different. “Any other defining
marks to the body? I will need to check the list of the dead,” he said bluntly. “Sometimes the
face is less easy to identify.” The list was full of people with terrible head injuries, beaten and
robbed. Others who had drowned and spent a lot of time in the water.

She grimaced and chewed her lip a moment, but she didn’t get angry, showing she was
sensible, even if she was upset.

“He has scars on his back from being whipped. And burns on his arms and chest concentrated
on the right nipple. From torture.”

“Fire Nation?” Jet asked.

“Yeah. He was captured for a time. Escaped. Then we came here. We were looking for our
friends, refugees. He went out one night and never returned. I-” She hesitated. “I’m worried
he asked the wrong question of someone. And no one will help me!” Her voice rose slightly.

She was probably right. In only three days, Jet had a pretty good idea of the sort of things that
made people disappear here. And she was running the risk of repeating the same mistake as
her friend. Worse, he could see Kang walking towards them, rolls of papers clutched in one
hand.

He shifted forward, loosening his body, inviting and conspiratorial. “I’ll tell you what, why
don’t we meet for lunch and you can tell me more?” he asked.

She looked like she was going to thump him. He might have jumped ahead a little fast there.
So he risked life and limb to lay a light hand on her arm, leaning in close and ignoring the
tensing of her muscles under his fingers and the way her own body shifted like she would
attack him. “You’re right, and some questions shouldn’t be asked here,” he said, voice as low
as he could make it.

Kang paused to watch him, an eyebrow raised. So Jet gave her a dazzling smile. “I’m
earning, now. I can treat you.”

She seemed to pick up on his change in behaviour quickly and her eyes only flicked to Kang
once. “I suppose. If you’re buying. When’s your break?” she said. She made her voice
slightly simpering, but there was a distinct edge of threat to it. Jet gave her a far more
genuine grin, keeping half an eye on Kang who was now smirking.

“You can take an extra hour,” Kang said. “At second bell.”
“Thanks boss!” Jet said, earning him a glare from the girl. He suspected Kang had an ulterior
motive. He had been trying to find someone to cover the front desk for the evening shift, and
Jet was only scheduled to work until the sixth bell.

After she had gone, Kang thumped him on the back with a grin. “You move fast. Enjoy your
extra hour. Although, we’re short staffed for the evening shift...”

“Not a problem,” Jet said. He liked evening shift, lots of people to meet. Most folk seemed to
hate it. He smiled until Kang left him alone, then he went to make more tea. He would serve
it and then go check the dead list for her friend. It was possible it was unconnected to the
other disappearances, and the man had just gotten drunk and fallen in a canal.

She was waiting for him outside the guardhouse at second bell. Her expression was neutral,
but she fell into step beside him easily enough.

“I’m holding you to that offer of lunch,” she said. “What’s your name?”

“Jet. You?”

“Suki. Did you check your…list?” Her shoulders were stiff with tension. Although her voice
didn’t hold the same fear her body did.

“Yes, no matches.” The lists were thorough, as bodies couldn’t be kept for claiming, they had
to be buried quickly to avoid any risk of disease. This place was so big, a plague would be
catastrophic. Even though the lower ring was chaotic and rammed with people, it was also
pretty efficient when it came to general hygiene. Sickness in the lower ring could spread up
towards the richer folk, so they made sure there was enough money for things to run
smoothly.

“Have you checked the sick tents? Hospitals?” he asked as they walked. He was confident in
his stride, but he wasn’t really that familiar with the area, and was keeping an eye out for
somewhere that looked appropriate for the kind of conversation they needed.

“Every day,” she said tightly.

He guided her towards a small establishment serving noodles. It wasn’t busy, so it was
probably crap, but there was space to sit inside, and the prices looked cheap enough his few
coins could stretch to two bowls.

Inside, they got a table at the back, located far enough away from other patrons to provide
privacy.

“You eat here often?” Suki asked, eyeing the stains on the table.

“Yes, of course. It’s humble, but filling food,” Jet said guilelessly.

After they gave their order to the grumpy looking serving lady, Suki leaned back and stared at
him straight in the eye. Direct and a little challenging. “So? Why take me out for lunch? I
assume you don’t treat everyone to noodles.”
“No,” he smiled as winningly as he could. “I’m finding myself short of friends. I’m always
looking for someone like-minded to spend time with, and if I can help you...”

“Bullshit. You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know you’re a fighter. I can see that from the way you move, and the scars on your
knuckles. I wasn’t lying about looking for new friends with certain skills. I want to help
people. I can’t.. I can’t just sit back and live a life blind to what’s happening around me. I
tried.”

She smirked. “How long did you try for?”

“Maybe a day. Life in my household is a little fraught, so it hasn’t been very relaxing.” He
gave a rueful grin. “I took the job with the guard to get a better idea of what’s happening
here. I don’t like what I’m seeing.”

“I’m not much of a fan myself,” Suki admitted.

“These people are not permitted to know what’s happening outside. That’s the biggest thing
here, you must never mention the war.” He shook his head, still feeling the residual shock of
disbelief. How could anyone deny the existence of a war on their doorstep? It was almost
obscene and the opposite of what he had been expecting.

“It’s madness,” Suki agreed. “But we knew that. Shen knew that.”

Jet nodded, fidgeting with his chopsticks. “And you need to be very careful talking about the
missing people.”

“The missing? There’s more?”

“Lots more, and they tend to disappear after asking the wrong sort of questions.”

Suki leant forward with a frown. “So Shen asking after our missing friends might have what?
Got him killed? Kidnapped?”

“It’s possible. I want to look into it, the whole thing, but I need to be careful too. The guard
won’t. They know better.”

“Do they know what’s happening?”

“Yeah, I think so.” He lowered his voice even more. “I think it's to do with the secret police.”

“The Dai Li?”

“Yeah.”

Suki was quiet a long moment. “Shen knew to be cautious around them. But he was out after
curfew.” She shut her mouth as their noodles were delivered, thunked down on the table with
no ceremony and some spillage. The service might be poor but the smell from the food was
good, the steam wisping off the bowl was inviting, and it looked like there were some chunks
of miscellaneous meat among the slightly wizened looking vegetables in the broth.

“Is there any reason the people he was looking for might have caused him issues?” Jet asked,
shoveling the first mouthful of food into his mouth. It was warm and pleasantly homely.

Suki narrowed her eyes and chewed her lip. “No, I don’t think so. They were just refugees.
They may have broken into the city or they may not be here at all. One of them is...he has
Fire Nation blood in him. But so do a lot of people here.”

“I have noticed that.” Jet tried to keep the distaste off his face. He refused to blame women
who had no choice in who got them pregnant, or the children that were the result of that
unpleasantness. Children like Li, who grew up angry and ready to fight. Who had suffered at
their hands. And he couldn’t blame kids like Tu, who had grown up under their rule, with
their laws, but who had fled and sought escape to the free parts of the Earth Kingdom.

But he wasn’t convinced all the people here with Fire Nation features fell under those
categories. It was very worrying that they were here, mixing with decent folk. And no one
did anything. Although the guard at least seemed to dislike it as much as he did. One thing
they could agree on.

“So you’ll look into it?” Suki asked, picking at her own food. Her clothes were rough and ill
fitting, but she clearly wasn’t starving. She had people or money here.

“Yes. But carefully. You should watch yourself too. I assume you have retraced his steps?”

“Yes. I’ve spoken to the people he was speaking to. He thought he might be able to find Li
though the community of Fire folk that are here. They look out for each other.”

Jet didn’t react to the name, but it made him wonder. There were a thousand Li’s, but Jet’s Li
had mentioned a Shen. The money they had used to rent their house was from him. That
couldn’t be a coincidence. Well, it could, there were also lots of Shen’s, but Jet’s instincts told
him it wasn’t.

“That sounds risky,” he said.

“Not really. He made friends with some of them. People with Fire Nation blood and those
from the colonies have to look out for each other. The guard won’t do it. Shen is fully Earth,
born in free country. He's been fighting the Fire Nation since he was younger than me, but he
was looking for a kid with Fire blood. So they were keen to help.” She shrugged, grimacing a
little. “But when he vanished...”

“They were afraid to get involved?”

“Yeah.”

“There are full Fire people here. Are you sure he didn’t do something to upset them?” It was
all well and good to blame the mysterious Dai Li, but a secret society of Fire Nation agitators
could also be to blame. And that was something it was his job to look into, for the sake of the
city, for the Earth Kingdom.

Suki pursed her lips and leaned back a bit, taking a moment to pick up her bowl and sip the
broth. “Yes. I’ve met a few. But they are here for good reason. They can’t live safely in their
homeland, or in the colonies.”

We don’t want them here. The thought was so loud it banged and blasted behind Jet’s eyes.
“Why not?” he asked, voice a little sharp.

“A number of reasons. Some have family who were arrested for treason, or suspected of it,
and they fled. Some ran to save themselves or their children from conscription. Not everyone
wants to fight and die in a pointless war. And from what I understand, there are a lot of laws
that people might not want to live under. Men who love other men, women who love other
women.” She shrugged a shoulder, keeping an eye on his reactions.

“Such things are what? Forbidden? That seems stupid.”

“Yeah, I don’t know what the objection is, but people who don’t conform can’t live under
Fire Nation rule.”

“That may be so, but they can’t be trusted, Suki. None of them can.”

She shook her head. “That’s not true, or at least not true of all of them. Some of these people
could never return home, even if they handed over the city on a silver platter. Not unless they
conformed, gave up their lovers, their identity. The friends Shen met looking for Li are a
good example. They’ve been here for years and years. They’re a married couple, but I’m
pretty sure the husband wasn’t born male. If he returned, he would lose his wife, his
reputation and possibly his life.”

The thing was, Jet could understand that. It made sense they would have to seek shelter with
their enemies. But at the same time, Fire was Fire. “You can’t trust them,” he said, voice
harder than he had meant to make it. “You can’t. Even if they are telling the truth.” He
attempted to soften his tone. “Please be careful.”

“I’m not trusting anyone in this city, you included,” Suki said, her own tone matching his.
Hard and unyielding.

Jet ate more of his food, although it had stopped tasting so good.

“Who is Shen to you?” He attempted to steer her back into safer waters. He wouldn’t be able
to help her, convince her of the truth if she was fighting him.

“My friend.”

“How’d you meet?”

“Li broke us out of Fire Nation jail.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And what were you in jail for?”

“Murder.” she said, blandly, giving him a look that indicated he better step right or he might
be added to her list of crimes. “Although it was soldiers, and they were trying to kill me, so I
don’t think it was a fair charge,” she added primly, a little humour returning to her face.

He grinned. “Any murderer of Fire soldiers is a friend of mine,” he said. “Where are you
staying? I can drop in and update you if I find anything.”

“None of your business. I’ll come back every day to see how you’re getting on.”

“Let’s meet here,” he said. If it was the same Li, then he didn’t want them running into each
other until he had a chance to figure out how best to use that information.

“Okay, that works. You can buy me lunch again tomorrow.”

He had a feeling his wallet was going to regret his choices.

………………

Hakoda was only halfway through his rounds when Wei’s man, Heng, came jogging up to
him, red faced and a little wild about the eyes. “Chief Hakoda! Commander Wei has asked
you attend him immediately, if you can.”

Hakoda heaved a sigh. This couldn’t be good. He nodded, handing over his task to Bato, and
followed Heng through the camp at a fast pace.

Wei was being strapped into his full armour. He looked grim, and Hakoda felt a frisson of
trepidation flow through him. “Commander Wei?”

“Hakoda, thank you for coming so fast. The Fire Nation has sent an emissary to ask us to
meet for talks.”

“Talks? About what?”

“I don’t know, but I intend to find out. More troops are amassing to the northeast. They are
preparing for action.”

Hakoda tightened his grip on the club at his belt. “Can we trust them not to attack us during
these talks?”

Wei hummed, considering. “They’re a weird bunch. They put so much stock in honour, but
have very little in many ways. For this, though? Yes.” Wei heaved a sigh. “I trust they won’t
turn on us while we are in discussion. I don’t trust what they say will be truth. Or at least, not
the plain truth. Maybe some, hidden in lies.”

Hakoda nodded. “How many men can we take?”

Wei gestured for them to leave the tent, and they began walking as they spoke. Around them,
the camp was full of anxious energy as the news spread. “They have said there will only be
three, one official, and two guards, so we should match that; ourselves, Huang and a guard
each.” He glanced at Hakoda. “You do not have to come yourself if you do not wish to. You
can choose someone trusted to go in your stead. But I thought you would want the Water
Tribes represented.”

“I will go.” He wasn’t sure if that was sensible, but he needed any information given directly.
The Earth Kingdom seemed to like to keep things close to the chest, even from their own
allies.

Wei nodded approvingly. “I am glad to have your input.”

They rode down to meet the Fire Nation party in the wide open space between the city and
the camp. The sky was grey with heavy cloud although the threat of rain seemed to be past.

Hakoda had chosen to ride Dumpling. The fat hen seemed happy to be able to stretch her
legs, and she tugged hard on the rains, making Hakoda struggle to pull her in. She had set her
sights on one of the guards’ birds and constantly edged towards him with a malicious gleam
in her eye. After the first attempted bite, Hakoda made an effort to keep her back as much as
possible. She really was Zuli’s bird through and through.

There were, as promised, just three men in red waiting for them. Rather than the horned
beasts they more commonly rode, they also seemed to have chosen ostrich horses for this
meet. Hakoda wondered if they had been stolen from Earth settlements. Probably. Perhaps
they had opted for the birds to make a point, or just for their speed if things went wrong.

As they came closer, the lead man dismounted, waiting calmly for them to draw nearer. He
was dressed in simple, slightly impractical looking robes rather than armour. He appeared to
have very minimal protection, so perhaps he also trusted the truce would be honoured.
Hakoda hoped that was a good sign.

They stopped a respectable, and not entirely sensible distance away. Hakoda thought they
were well within strike range for firebending, but apparently Wei trusted them in turn.

Hakoda himself couldn’t help but feel doubtful. He wasn’t used to talking to Fire Nation
soldiers, he was far more familiar with killing them. He was unsure of the situation, and he
wished Wei had given him more of a briefing. The man offered him trust, went through the
motions of treating Hakoda like an equal, certainly conspired to have him onside against
Huang and Yao. But he still held back. It was never truly going to be between equals in his
mind.

The official was a stern-looking man who was about as stereotypically Fire Nation as you
could get. He was shorter than Hakoda, with pale skin and jet black hair held up in a thick
top-knot. He bowed, straight-backed, bent at the waist. From what Hakoda had learned, the
depth of the bow and the length of time he held it showed his level of respect. In Hakoda’s
estimation, there was no slight in the bow he offered them.

“Thank you for agreeing to meet,” the man said after he straightened. “I am Captain
Kazuma.”

He had left off any regiment, which seemed strange, as both Earth and Fire liked to have that
sort of structure to their ranking. Beside Hakoda, Wei sniffed at the name, and Huang’s eyes
narrowed slightly. It was frustrating to realise they obviously knew something he did not.

“I am Commander Wei of the East 14th Division. And here with me are Chief Hakoda of the
Southern Water Tribe and General Huang of the North 28th Division.” He emphasised the
rank of each with something a little like contempt. The Fire Nation had sent a lowly captain
to treat with his betters.

Captain Kazuma didn’t react to the dig, although he must have noticed it. His narrow, honey
coloured eyes were watchful. “I am here to discuss the refugees in front of the city.”

“What is there to discuss?” Wei asked.

“Their safety. My-” he hesitated a second. “-commander intends to take the city. We are
offering you the opportunity to save these people and avoid a massacre.”

“An opportunity,” Wei said coolly.

“Why would you care?” Hakoda interjected. Fuck propriety or the rules for whatever this
was. Their dithering had provided the Fire Nation with this opportunity, and Hakoda was fed
up with the pissing around.

Kazuma shifted his gaze to meet Hakoda’s, calm and emotionless. “Despite what you may
think of us, we do not wish to kill civilians.”

“A plan that would conveniently leave you clear access to the city while we round up
terrified refugees.”

Kazuma inclined his head in acknowledgement.

“This doesn’t seem to be very beneficial to us,” Huang said, giving Hakoda an annoyed look,
which he ignored. If they didn’t want him to speak, they shouldn’t have brought him.

“Not beneficial?” Kazuma asked. His face had very little discernible expression, but he lifted
an eyebrow at that. “I suppose that depends on whether you would like the refugees to be
killed in the fighting or survive. The choice is yours, of course.”

“If you really cared about them, you would let them leave now, let them pass the battlefield
before you begin your assault,” Hakoda said.

Kazuma cocked his head slightly. “Well, that wouldn’t be very beneficial to us, would it?”
Wei glared across the space between the parties. “You are General Tsing’s man.” The way he
said ‘man’ implied he meant ‘dog’.

“I was,” Kazuma answered, again ignoring the tone and instead responding to the words.
Hakoda was sure this tactic was very irritating to both Wei and Huang. Kazuma brushed at
one of his long, impractical sleeves. There was a faint look of distaste on his face. “But I am
no longer in his service. Instead, I have a different patron.” Kazuma’s eyes flicked between
them. “You clearly know something of me. Can I assume that Captain Shen reported our
interaction at Lao River Fort?”

Hakoda could feel himself tense. His knowledge of what had happened to Shen during his
capture was rather vague. Wei clearly knew more and had chosen not to share. Again.

“He did,” Wei said. “He described you as honourable, although he did stress that was a rather
relative term given your people’s usual behaviour. And that you had every intention of
handing him over to be tortured once your master returned.”

Kazuma nodded. “I’m sure he had much to say on the subject. Has he rejoined your company
then?”

“No,” Wei said tartly. “He has not.”

Hakoda’s own jaw tensed. He couldn’t help but feel angry whenever he thought about it, the
unfairness of what had happened to his friend.

Kazuma looked between them, cocking his head again and narrowing his eyes slightly, but he
said nothing.

“Do you have anything else to add?” Wei asked. “Other than to inform us of your intentions
to use innocent refugees as a human shield?”

“We will not harm them unless we must.” Kazuma ignored Wei and looked directly at
Hakoda. “You may find yourself busy on the river. Reinforcements will be coming by boat.
War ships, perhaps. But also keep an eye out for trade vessels. The navy are a slippery bunch.
You will need to decide quickly what you wish to do. And who you wish to save.”

Hakoda stared at him. While it was gratifying to have his own plans and thoughts vindicated,
it was extremely strange Kazuma would share this information. Was it an attempt to throw
them off in some way? Would reinforcements actually come overland? Or was it a double
bluff?

“Why would you tell us such a thing?” Hakoda asked, drawing another scowl from Huang.

Kazuma’s face remained impassive, but his body moved slightly, the red fabric of his robes
shifting. It brought attention to how vulnerable he was facing three men dressed for battle.
Why had he chosen to attend them without armour fitting of his rank? There were a lot of
questions that Hakoda felt were important, but he had no idea how to get answers to. Again,
he wondered if Wei knew more and had just failed to mention it.
“We wish to prevent civilian casualties where we can. The refugees, and those in the city. If
you fight us, the city will still fall, but the death count will be higher.” Kazuma said.

That might be true, but it didn’t mean it was the right thing to do. If the city fell, the Earth
Kingdom would essentially be lost. It would just be a matter of time. And it didn’t really
answer the question, either.

Kazuma tilted his head up slightly, towards where the sun was hidden by cloud. Checking the
time, perhaps. “I must return to my commander,” he said. He bowed again to each of them,
making the sign of the flame and maintaining a respectful time and depth for Hakoda, but
noticeably less for Huang and Wei. It was a deliberate snub.

“Who is your commander?” Hakoda asked.

“Thank you for meeting with me, Chief Hakoda, Commander Wei, General Huang.” He
remounted his stolen ostrich horse and turned to ride away. Hakoda wondered if his back
itched with an expected arrow. He was pretty sure all three of them were imagining being
able to shoot him.

“What do you make of that?” Wei asked.

“Lies,” Huang said angrily.

Hakoda pet Dumpling’s beak, habitually avoiding her attempted bite. “What I think is that I
am on the back-foot. Again. You know things I do not, and I don’t like it. How am I supposed
to make any sort of judgement without all the information?”

Wei nodded. “I agree, and I apologise. I didn’t know it would be relevant. This was the man
who took Captain Shen to Lao Fort. The information I have on him comes from Shen’s
report.”

“Which was?”

“He belongs to General Tsing, a man known for his ruthless and duplicitous behaviour on the
battlefield. He would sacrifice his own men with no scruples to achieve his goals.”

“Kazuma said he is no longer with Tsing.”

“And I don’t believe him. Tsing was always going to be the general who made an attempt on
the city. Our intel said he was preparing some sort of secret weapon.”

Hakoda swung onto Dumpling’s back, wincing a little at the stretch her round body caused.
“Do you know what it was?”

Wei sighed. “It was just a rumour, but one I feared had teeth. My source now suggests it is
some sort of machine to break through the wall.”

Not information he had bothered to share. Hakoda grit his teeth, this probably was not the
time for dissent among them, but later, they would need to have a very frank discussion about
sharing important facts.
Wei glanced at him, clearly seeing some of his displeasure on his face, but he didn’t comment
on it. “I don’t understand why Kazuma would lie about no longer being Tsing’s man. That
galls me. It worries me,” he said.

Hakoda thought he had been telling the truth, or a version of it. There had been the faintest
shadow of a sneer on his face at the general’s name. But he was unaccustomed to dealing
with the Fire Nation face to face. It was possible he was just failing to pick up obvious cues.
“He and Shen interacted long enough for him to make an impression strong enough to pass
on information to you.”

“It was no more than I said to the man himself. Shen described him as honourable, but
relative to what he is.”

“Honourable how?”

“He said Kazuma seemed to care about the welfare of his prisoners. The girl, Suki, was also
being held by him and he tried to make things easier for them both. Brought Shen supplies to
fix his fingers and a privacy curtain for them.” Wei glanced at him as their ostrich horses
started the long ride back to the camp. “But don’t mistake it for compassion. He was still
going to hand Shen over to Tsing, and that would have been ugly.”

Hakoda nodded. But if Tsing was his master, he would have had little choice. “As a captain,
would you save an enemy prisoner from your commander?” he pointed out. He wasn’t
defending the man, just stating the obvious. He was more willing to trust Shen’s assessment
than Wei’s. However, neither really shed any light on what to do next. “We must discuss what
to do. If there is a chance he was telling the truth...”

“He wasn’t,” Huang said, tone very final.

“We don’t know that. Can we risk it? Any attack from the river could take out the civilians in
our camp, not to mention the threat to those by Ba Sing Se.”

Wei looked furious and slightly pained. He had come to the same conclusion Hakoda had.
They couldn’t risk it and they would have to take action. Truth or lie, Kazuma’s ploy would
work. They would have to divide their resources. Hakoda would have to take his people and
defend the river.

“I will do as I must,” Hakoda said. “But I do have a few tricks up my sleeve. We have been
developing something that may help delay any enemy ships, but they will also prevent other
vessels from passing safely. We will essentially cut off any trade of food or weapons going to
the city.” A combination of his tangle mines and some of the more explosive variety would
cause chaos for the ships, but they would not be able to be discerning.

Behind them, there was a distant rumble and boom. The ostrich horses jerked, startled, like
the earth felt uneasy under their feet.

It had begun, and they were still fifteen minutes out from the camp.
 “Is that earthbending?” Hakoda asked, turning in his seat, keeping one hand tight on the
saddle’s pommel.

“Yes,” Huang said. There was a note of confusion in his voice. There was a huge plume of
dust in the distance. It hid any detail of what was taking place, but it was obviously
deliberately obscuring something.

“Those are not our troops,” Huang said faintly.

“No, they are not,” Wei said, grim and tight.

How was it possible that the Fire Nation could be using earthbending? But then, they had
been colonising the Earth Kingdom for generations. It made sense they would indoctrinate
some of the people born into their strongholds.

“They have never used this before?” Hakoda asked. It was half statement and half question.

“Ozai believes Fire to be the superior element. He would never lower himself to conscript
people of Earth blood.”

“Well,” Hakoda said, watching the ominous dust cloud move slowly but surely towards the
walls. “Someone has.”

Chapter End Notes

Some lovely art!

If I ever miss any or mess up a link, please send me a message and I will add you in!

Oopensandwich shared this wonderful picture of Kazuma and Ichika: Here

And the amazing smallsinger5901 drew Jee’s conversation with Shen: Here

ivester-spy drew this wonderful pic of the boys having map reading adventures: Here

Next chapter: There is in fact a war in Ba Sing Se.

 Chapter 38
Chapter Summary

“War has come to Ba Sing Se, whether they want to admit it or not.”

Chapter Notes

Thank you all for the amazing comments and kudos!

Warnings:
Death, destruction, mayhem etc. Very vague references to past CSA

Many thanks to my beta burkesl17, who has managed to wrangle my dyslexic nonsense.
All mistakes are my own.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Tu was stressed. It was apparently now his natural state of being.

Life in the house was busy and confusing. The Avatar and his friends kept a certain amount
of distance, although they shared meals with whoever happened to be in at the time. Jet was
off to work most days, and Longshot had also found a job, although Tu wasn’t sure where or
doing what. He suspected it was criminal in nature, so he didn’t ask. Smellerbee spent the
most time with Tu, but Jet had instructed her to seek information, try to get a feel for the city,
so she was often out.

Tu was apparently the housekeeper, as he had failed to find work. Perhaps people were more
suspicious of him because they recognised his accent as Fire Nation, or possibly because his
small stature made them assume he was younger than he was. But Jet had pulled him aside,
told him it didn’t matter if he couldn’t pull in money—he could help look after the house.
Then Jet had told him in a quiet, serious voice, his main, secret, task was to keep an eye on
the others and report back. Just so they could be sure of what was going on, as Li and Toph’s
friends were a bit wary of them and it was important the freedom fighters were not out of the
loop.

So far, his observations had amounted to the fact they squabbled a lot and were very easily
distracted from their tasks. They had announced they would be looking for their lost friend in
set groups. And then they had repeatedly gone out in completely different pairs.
This morning, the Avatar had gone to the zoo with Sokka to look for their friend, Appa. Why
he would be at the Zoo was a mystery, and one Tu had studiously ignored. He could have
asked Jet, but honestly, he really didn’t want to know. He had more than enough knowledge
to carry around with him already, and he was keen to avoid picking up any more. With that in
mind, he avoided thinking about Aang as much as possible.

Li was out investigating a way into the upper ring. Tu wasn’t sure why they wanted to go
there, but again, the less he understood, the better. Li seemed to be enjoying his excursions.
He had already made his way into the middle ring without much issue.

How Li fit into the group was also confusing. He and Sokka had moved into a room together,
so clearly that relationship was on the mend. But just this morning, Li had had a screaming,
almost violent argument with Katara, that made Tu think that he should do something to
intervene (although he was certain he was likely to die if he tried) or at least get someone else
to calm them down. But Toph was grinning, and Sokka looked indulgent. Like he found it
cute or funny, but it had sounded very serious to Tu.

When he had sidled around to ask Toph the cause, she had shrugged. “They’re arguing about
the correct way to cure a fish. Pretty sure Li has never cured anything in his life, but he does
seem to have a very set idea of what’s involved,” she had said, grinning again.

“What?” Tu had asked, bemused. They were red faced and yelling at an ear splitting volume.
There were lots of very offensive words being used, with accusations of both peasantry and
lordliness being flung around with deadly precision.

“They like to fight. Can’t hold that against them,” Toph had said. “I like to fight.” She
smacked one little fist into her palm. “But I like to leave bruises. They just like to yell. I think
they need to exercise their vocal cords a bit.”

“It releases stress,” Sokka had said, serene and amused. “And I’m always glad when it’s not
me in the firing line.”

Tu liked Toph. She was blunt, uncompromising and sometimes said things that upset Tu’s
whole world view, but she was straightforward and honest and it made him feel comfortable.
Even though she was powerful enough to crush him into bonemeal with a flick of her fingers.

Sokka was more confusing. He had pulled Tu aside the first day and sat him down, very
serious, to give him a stern warning about the dangers of Jet finding out he was a Firebender.
It had sent a cold feeling through Tu to know Li had told the others about him. But he
supposed it was better this way—at least if things went to shit, he had people who might
help. Since then, the other boy had been friendly but distant with him. More focused on Li
and Jet and whatever they had going on.

Tu still wasn’t sure what he felt about that, about Jet and boys. But at the same time, he was
worried that whatever the three of them had building up was going to blow up in their faces
and probably take him down with it.

Tu also liked Katara. Although she had been initially cautious of him, as a late member of the
freedom fighters, he wasn’t treated with the same level of suspicion as the others. Not even
with her knowing about him. But as much as he liked her, she was far scarier than her
brother.

This morning he had helped her make breakfast, following her instructions carefully and
enjoying the praise she gave him when he did something to her exact specifications. Now he
was sitting quietly and listening to her and Toph argue.

“I’m just saying, you don’t understand how frightened we were after we were separated,”
Katara said. “We heard you scream and it was terrifying.”

“It wasn’t a frightened scream,” Toph said with an exaggerated sneer. “It was a warning
scream.”

You didn’t need a freaky lie detecting ability to know that wasn’t true.

“I know fear when I hear it,” Katara snapped.

Toph pushed herself up with a scowl, and Tu just couldn’t face another shouting match.
“What did Jet do?” he asked, regretting it before the words were fully out of his mouth. He
was sure he didn’t actually want to know, but he supposed he was committed now. “The
reason you don’t like him, I mean.”

Katara growled, her face becoming the picture of anger. “He tricked Aang and I into almost
killing an entire village of people. There was a Fire Nation garrison posted there, and he
wanted to burst the dam and drown them. All of them, the people who lived there, too.”

Tu thought about that quietly for a moment. He believed it. He had seen that fervour in his
friend, and he feared it. But he also felt that he had seen good, the need to help people. He
would risk himself time and time again to save others. “He told me he knew he had done bad
things in the past. That he was trying to change. To be better,” Tu said.

Katara scoffed. “I don’t believe him, no matter what Toph says she felt about his sincerity.”

“I said he believed he was telling the truth, not that he would actually be a better person,”
Toph said.

“How would that even work?” Katara snapped. But before Toph could respond, the door
slammed open and Li strode into the room looking furious.

“I hate this city,” he said. “I hate the middle ring.” He had mud splashed up his legs. It looked
too high to be from just running through a puddle. A splash from a cart’s wheel, perhaps.

“Just in time,” Toph said with a wicked-looking grin that made Tu nervous. “We were just
discussing Jet and his very complicated past. You spend time with him, what do you think?”

Li looked surprised, and then a little uncomfortable. “I don’t know. He’s alright I guess.
Bossy.”

“Ha,” Katara said quietly. “Bossy, he says.”

Li scowled at her as he moved closer to the fire. Katara eyed the drying mud on his pants, but
didn’t comment. Apparently more keen to carry on the conversation than to avoid the
inevitable battle over clean up.

She watched Li with pursed lips. “You know he hates the Fire Nation. It’s blind,
uncompromising hate. He may be trying to do better, but I don’t think he will manage it when
faced with things he can’t accept. Things like the two of you.”

“He can never find out. Not ever,” Tu said urgently.

“Doesn’t it worry you?”

“All the time. I just want to be free of fighting. I just want to be safe,” Tu said miserably.

“You can’t,” Li said. “Not as things are.” He was just as uncompromising. “There isn’t
anywhere free of fighting. It will find us here too, eventually.”

“But hopefully, you can rest a little,” Katara said. Her face was kind, and it made Tu’s chest
ache. She was being compassionate to him despite him being a firebender and enemy of her
people. More than that, part of a nation that was trying to wipe hers off the map. He didn’t
know if he could be so understanding if their positions were reversed.

“You never really told us what happened to you,” Toph said.

Tu shuddered. He didn’t want to talk about it, but he supposed he owed it to them. “I don’t
really know what happened to my father. He was in the navy. I know he did something he
shouldn’t have, committed treason of some kind,” Tu began slowly.

His feelings were so confused. He kind of hated his dad for everything that happened, but he
missed him and mourned him. And he had to believe he was doing the right thing when he
died. “I never found out what. I was in training, and the soldiers came to take me away. I
heard they took my mother to prison.” He sucked in a wobbly breath. His mother was sick.
She needed medication. He couldn’t see them bothering to provide that for her. “I don’t know
what happened to my sister.” He rubbed his palms over his trouser legs, feeling the friction
against his skin and its comforting heat.

“Because I can bend, they didn’t execute me, they sent me to the front to die in battle.” He
hesitated, thinking of the man he had killed. “I tried to run away, and they caught me. Then I
escaped again, when East Lake was raided. Met Jet.”

“That sounds awful,” Katara said. “But why did they come for your family when you had
done nothing wrong?”

Li shifted, and his raspy voice was low when he spoke. “The family of a traitor is also treated
as guilty. They face prison or death, depending on the severity of the crime.”

“All of them?” Katara asked. “What if there are kids? Babies?”

Li twitched again, obviously uncomfortable. “In fifteen years, a child might start thinking
about revenge. Treason breeds treason. Sometimes a very young child or baby might be taken
to be fostered or adopted without their knowledge. Most people don’t want to kill babies.”

Katara looked horrified. It was horrifying, deeply so. Tu was kind of shocked he had never
really considered it before. Not even when it impacted him. There was apparently a lot he
hadn’t thought about. He felt that might make him guilty too, in some way. He certainly felt
guilty.

He wondered if Li did, too. He was scowling, unfocused. And Tu wondered if perhaps he was
one of those children, like Tu, who had been betrayed by the cruel system, and was now
happy to be counted a traitor.

They were quiet for a long time. Tu couldn’t bring himself to look at any of them.

“So, you guys want to study my awesome Chi today?” Toph asked, finally breaking the
silence. “Tu can do that neat trick you and Uncle are so fond of.” She nudged Katara with an
elbow.

“Yes,” Katara said firmly. “We have a few hours before the others get back. Let’s do
something useful. Li, go change before you get dried mud all over the floor.”

He snarled at her, but he did get up and head towards his room, dirt flaking free of his pants
all the way up the stairs.

“You can see Chi?” Tu asked.

“Yes, well, I’m learning. A… friend taught me. He was a firebender too.”

Tu had learnt early to keep his weird ability to himself. Talking about it had once resulted in a
fight that had nearly lost his father his position. And that was only because Hua had stepped
in. Tu had been too busy bleeding and crying.

He missed his sister so much. Just thinking about her made him ache and fill with the sort of
fear he couldn’t even describe to himself. But the opportunity to look at Toph’s bending was
one he wouldn’t pass up. He wanted to know if you could do it with fire or water. Or without
bending, even. Chi was Chi, but would there be anything to sense? Why would someone try
if they weren’t attempting to compensate for lack of sight like Toph was?

“I would like that, Toph. And I would love to learn from you also, Katara. I don’t know
anything about waterbending.” Other than the fact it was terrifying.

Katara smiled at him full of genuine warmth and somehow, just that made him feel a bit
better about things.

When the others returned, chattering about their day, and Li and Sokka sat close together
while Jet watched them, Tu felt a little lighter than he usually did.

When he went to sleep that night, instead of the usual crushing fear, he drifted off feeling like
there might be some hope.

He really should have known better.

………..

Shen was sick of being in prison. He had managed to go thirty-four years without spending
more than a few nights in jail, and those had only been when he was younger and brought up
on charges for fighting. He hoped imprisonment wasn’t becoming a habit.

He had been taken, by what he assumed were the Dai Li, to a holding cell with nearly twenty
other men already in residence. They had ignored his protests, and all efforts to get them to
tell him what was going on, where he was or why he was being held. They still hadn’t
charged him with anything. Apparently, knowledge of the Avatar’s bison was a crime here.
He hadn’t seen Appa since they had taken him, and he hoped the beast was okay. If they had
done it harm, he was fairly sure there would be a reckoning, assuming the Avatar ever found
out. Alienating a powerful mystical being didn’t seem like a particularly good idea to Shen,
but then, what did he know?

Everyone else stuck in the cell with him seemed to be fully Earth. They were from all walks
of life, some well spoken, perhaps from the middle ring, others had rougher speech. And
many were from outside the city. One man, Chao, had been a farmer in the southeast, until his
lands were burnt and he had travelled to the city with his family to seek shelter. He had told
Shen his only crime had been telling people what had happened to him, what was happening
beyond the walls. He had tried to speak to the authorities, had gone to the university, and
even attempted to petition the king. That had been the thing that landed him here. He had
been imprisoned without charge for a long period of time. He claimed months, but wasn’t
completely certain. One thing he did know was sometimes the men were taken away and not
returned.

There were rumours, out in the streets, about what happened to people disappeared by the Dai
Li, that when they came back, they were changed. They had forgotten things. Some had even
turned in family members and friends to the authorities.

There was something rotten here, right to the top, probably. Shen couldn’t help wondering
what would happen if Sokka managed to get the schematics to the Earth King. Would he even
care? It was a frightening thought. War was on these people’s doorstep, quite literally, but
instead of training citizens to fight, they were locking them in jail. It put the whole city at
risk. They were relying too heavily on the walls. The Dragon of the West, curse his bones,
had made it past the outer wall. He or someone like him could do it again. Would do it, soon,
with that drill if construction on it was already underway.

And Shen was locked up here, unable to fight, unable to find the kids or help Suki. He never
should have brought her here. He spent most of the time when not driving himself up the wall
with useless anger, worrying about the kids. Had Zuli and Sokka made it? Was Suki okay?
She was probably going out of her mind worrying about him, and he felt terrible about it. At
least Ayano would look after her. But he worried her searching for him would end with her in
the same situation as he was in. He suspected the Dai Li didn’t like questions, and that girl
was as stubborn as Zuli was.

The prisoners were fed once a day, and Shen tried to keep a tally of how long he had been
down here. But it was disconnecting with no night or day. Twice they had been led to a damp
smelling room, the bare rock walls glittering with water in the lamplight. Here they had been
allowed to wash and were given a change of clothes. Some measure of hygiene was very
welcome, but the stink of human waste was still strong in their overcrowded cell, with twenty
men using the same three buckets. It was grim.

And he was going completely round the bend with nothing to do but think and worry and feel
so much impotent anger. He had no idea where he was, but the air here was cool and damp.
The walls felt slightly slick with moisture at times. Many of the men who had been here
longest had developed a cough, and the sound of it was a constant grating presence.

It was another endless day/night, and Shen and Chao were passing the time playing an
improvised game of Xianggi using round balls of what he thought might be squashed, dried
rice, when there was a disturbance from outside their cell. There was the sound of guards
calling out to each other and running in their armour.

“What’s going on?” Chao asked from beside him.

Beneath their feet was the sensation of vibration. It was the familiar feeling of offensive
earthbending.

“Fuck,” Shen said. “Fuck.”

“Shen?”

He pushed himself upright, scattering their game as he maneuvered past other men who were
heading for the bars. He grabbed the cold metal with both hands and shook the door so it
rattled. “Hey! What’s going on!” he shouted. A guard ran past him without responding. “You
bastards, let us out! You need us to fight, you dumb fuckers!” He couldn’t believe this was
happening.

Around him, everyone in the cell was up and muttering. Some had joined him in shouting.
There was a growing feeling of panic and anger. Other calls were echoing through the rock
corridors, no doubt from the other men they had pointlessly locked away. His own people.
The leaders of this city whose defence had necessitated the mission that had, one way or
another, destroyed his unit. His family. Shen’s vision was swimming with fury and he shook
the bars again, but it was fruitless.

They were stuck. Unable to help, to escape. Nothing. What the fuck was going to happen to
them down here if the city fell? Would they be killed by the invaders? Or would they just be
left to die a long, slow death? The thought was horrifying. Quick execution would be far
better.

“Shen?” Chao said again. “What’s happening?” The poor guy sounded terrified, and there
was nothing Shen could say to make it better.

The vibrations were more frequent now, and dirt from the rocky ceiling was flaking down
with an impact somewhere in the world above.

It was happening close by.

They had broken through the outer wall. It was the only explanation.

“War has come to Ba Sing Se, whether they want to admit it or not,” he said.

And they were woefully unprepared.

……….

Jet had done as Sokka had asked and looked into the Wang brothel case. He kind of wished
he hadn’t. The reports were as expected; gruelling, terrible reading. It infuriated him that the
perpetrators were Earth. His own people spreading this kind of misery. It was a subject that
filled him with rage. He empathised a little too closely with the victims, and had to work very
hard to keep himself together, to keep now and then, separate in his mind enough to do what
he needed to. He had to track them down and make sure they were safe. Then he might see if
he could get access to the adults involved. See if he couldn’t share a little of that misery.

It didn’t take him long to find the kids. They were being held where the reports said, in a
home for children too young or traumatised to look after themselves. It was a nondescript
house, and inside was clean and well kept. The women that were running it seemed distant,
but not harsh.

Although he knew what you saw as an outsider did not always reflect the truth. He would
need to speak to the children directly to get a feel for things, gain their trust to learn the truth
of it.

But after charming the workers and gaining access, he again wished he had not. These little
kids he had been reading about, had empathised with, saw the shadow of his child self in,
stared up at him when he entered the room with a shocking amount of Fire Nation eyes. Not
all of them, but more than half.

It made sense. It was easier to disappear refugee kids, easier for folk to turn a blind eye to the
possible suffering of undesirable people, those with obvious mixed blood. Some might be full
Fire, even easier to dismiss.

If he could tell who was Fire and who was mixed, it might make him feel a little easier, but
he couldn’t, not just by looking at them. And they were young, their accents all over the
place. It was disconcerting, but despite his shock and misgivings, he was here, and he had to
do what he had come to do; see if they were receiving care and safety. Maybe see if there was
a bond he could form, something that might be useful later.

He didn’t like it, though, the complicated way it made him feel.

He had begun to visit the kids every other day. They were cautious of him, but they were
warming up. He had the knack of reaching children, and they recognised something in him.
The child he had been, perhaps. Maybe the shades of the hurts that he had suffered resonated
in some way. Just like he could recognise it in others, in people like Li, who had clearly
suffered in similar ways.

It was emotionally exhausting, and he found himself looking forward to seeing Suki more
and more. Something to distract him. Unlike the kids, whose trust he was slowly winning,
Suki tended to meet him head on. She wasn’t giving an inch, although he felt that she enjoyed
arguing with him an equal amount. He wouldn’t call them friends, but they had grown to be
more than just acquaintances. They could be friends, if one of them could bend their position,
just a little. It wasn’t going to be him, though.

Unfortunately, he had not discovered anything about Shen, no body, either, which had to be a
good thing. Careful questioning of Li had revealed a vague physical description of his Shen
that matched Suki’s, but Jet had still held back. He wanted to make sure he managed the
information carefully, give himself a little longer to learn more before choosing a course of
action.

He had uncovered unsettling information during his investigation. Sometimes the people that
disappeared came back, but wrong. Really wrong by the sound of it. The guards shied away
from speaking about it, but some of the people he had met had been more forthcoming, if
only in fearful whispers.

He needed to discuss it with Suki to warn her if her friend ever did turn up. And also because
he wanted to find out more about her and her situation. He had tracked her to the Shēngcún
and had spent a few hours watching it. Smugglers, he thought. And more than a few of the
crew looked like they had Fire Nation blood, which was concerning, and also probably why
Suki always had it in for him when he tried to persuade her they were evil.

He still felt he could trust her, even though her associations were very suspect. Perhaps they
were lying to her, deceiving her in some way. It was possible they were in fact responsible for
Shen’s disappearance. With him gone, it left Suki more vulnerable. It was a disquieting
thought, but he couldn’t really make any further judgement without meeting the people. He
needed to question them directly.

He decided to just board the ship and ruffle some feathers. His uniform gave him some level
of authority and protection. If people saw him go on to the Shēngcún, then it would be hard
for them to disappear him without risk to themselves.

“Hey!” a tall woman with a scar on her face said, as he climbed the gangplank. Her Fire
Nation eyes took in his uniform and then rested on his face for a moment.

Her own face was carefully blank. “Our papers have been checked. They are all good,” she
said in a clipped accent that reminded him a little of Li and Tu. Colony born then.

“Oh, I’m sure they are,” he told her with a smirk.

“So why are they sending babies wrapped up like police to my boat?” she asked caustically.

“I’m looking for Suki. I’m helping her find her friend.”
The woman looked him up and down again, more slowly, and sniffed dismissively. “She
mentioned a guard. Used words like ‘newbie’ and ‘bottom of the rung’. She failed to mention
that was because you are a child.”

“Not been a child for a very long time,” Jet said with a smile that was as sharp as the evil-
looking blade on her hip. “Thanks to you people.”

She snorted. “I have done nothing to you. Unless you have some accusation to throw at me,
you can get off my ship.”

“Your ship? Are you the Captain?”

“First mate. Ayano.”

“I won’t leave until I speak to Suki. I’m sure your papers are in order, and no one at the docks
took a backhander to ensure you wouldn’t be searched. But if I make a report, then things
might change. I think that might not go so well for you.”

First mate Ayano just stared at him, flat and unconcerned. For a moment he wondered if he
had been mistaken, that maybe they were legit. But no, he wasn’t wrong. He knew what they
were.

“Well?” he asked.

“Fuck off,” she said without changing expression. “Go crying to the grown-ups if you want.”

“Jet?”

He turned to see Suki emerging from below decks. Her look of surprise was quickly
morphing into anger.

“Suki!” He greeted her with a jaunty smile. “Nice to see you. We need to talk.”

“And this talk couldn’t have waited until later when we were due to meet anyway?”

He shrugged.

She looked far angrier than he had anticipated and he held up his hands, palms out. “I’m not
trying to cause trouble.” Behind him, Ayano snorted derisively.

“Do you at least have news about Shen?” she asked, a little fear in her face. They both knew
that after this much time, any news was likely to be bad.

“No, but-”

“So what is so important you have to stalk me back to my home?”

“If you’ll let me finish?”

Suki crossed her arms and glared—it was an intense one, fierce enough to rival Li. “It better
be good or I’m going to kick you from one end of this ship to the other.”

Ayano laughed, tipping her head back. “That’s why you are my favourite, Suki,” she said,
pleased and still without any fear of his threats. Either she had nothing to hide (unlikely) or
she had one serious game face.

Suki opened her mouth to speak, when there was a sudden explosion, off to the right of them
beyond the docks, close to the river.

“What was that?” Suki said instead of whatever disparaging thing she was about to let rip
with. People were screaming, and she caught Jet’s eyes briefly. “An accident?”

“No,” Ayano said, and now she was showing some emotion, not fear, something like
resignation. “I think ‘No War in Ba Sing Se’ is about to be shown for the lie it is.”

“And how would you know?” Jet asked suspiciously.

“Experience. It was only a matter of time.”

The screaming intensified while they watched, and a group of people; civilians, sailors, and
some uniformed men began running towards the sound. Others seemed to be running away.
The docks became a seething mass of people pushing and shouting, a few were knocked into
the water as people struggled to escape the open area.

“Suki get below,” Ayano said.

“No!” she glared, defiant and fierce.

Jet was already heading for the gangplank to disembark. His heart was racing with adrenaline
and the rush of rage and fear he always felt before a fight.

“Suki!” Ayano called, and he felt Suki’s hand bash him in the back, pushing him faster down
the wooden gangway.

“Suki, stay with us!” Ayano called, frustration in her voice. “Shen would want you to be
safe!”

“Yeah,” she paused in her descent, looking back at Ayano as she stood on the deck “He
would. And I would tell him the same thing. These are my people. I’m going to fight. It’s
what I’m trained to do, Ayano.”

The older woman let out a breath, staring intently at her for a moment. “Come back to us, if
you can,” she said at last, and turned to bark orders at her crew-mates, who had begun to
emerge from the bowels of the ship.

Jet pushed forward and was swallowed in a storm of people. He could feel Suki’s grip on the
back of his shirt, but there was no room to even draw his swords. Behind them, Ayano had
pulled up the plank and the ship was moving. Probably a precaution to stop it being swarmed
by desperate people. The Shēngcún had nowhere to go. If the Fire Nation was invading, the
mouth of the inlet was bound to be guarded.

“Lovely friends you have,” Jet snarled. How did he know the crew wasn’t part of this
somehow?

“I like them,” Suki shot back. “Don’t like you much.” She grunted as someone knocked into
her hard. “This is hopeless. I can’t even find who we should be fighting.”

The noise of the people was deafening, and there was a serious risk of a crush down here.
“Up,” Jet said, pointing at the canopy of a shop that had been selling fish. The wares were
now mostly trampled into a slick slime of ichor and the stink of sea and guts was strong. It
wasn’t enough to hide the slowly growing smell of burning on the breeze.

He gave her a quick boost, and she made it up onto the awning. It wobbled and creaked, but
held their weight as they scrambled higher.

They climbed to the second tier of the building, onto the roof, and from here they could see
red armoured soldiers, right at the far corner of the docks. People were beating them back
with everything they had. Sticks, bending, kitchen knives.

“We’re never even going to get close,” Jet said with frustration. Perhaps he should go back to
the guard tower? Or maybe just get down there and try to get people to safety. Although
where that might be, he wasn’t sure.

“We have to help people,” Suki said firmly. “We have to think about getting people away
from the fires.” She looked grim, determined. If she wasn’t so keen on people with Fire
blood, he would say she was as impressive as Li. Who also had Fire blood. Jet just couldn’t
escape it.

Suki glanced at him. “I’m going to head to our friends in the lower ring. They have a
network. Perhaps they have plans in place for this.”

“Your Fire Nation friends?” Jet hissed at her, unable to keep the venom out of his voice.

“Yes, my Fire Nation friends. They’re organised, they’re scared. Maybe they will be able to
provide an option. You are free to go elsewhere.” She began moving over the rooftops,
stepping with sure feet and graceful leaps.

Jet cursed and followed her.

They knocked on the door of a nondescript house close to the edge of the docks. “Bowen?”
Suki called, as the street started to fill with people behind them, knocking into them as they
ran and shouted.

The door opened. “Suki? Get inside.” Her friend was a short, older man who had a very
familiar look of panic on his round face. “You must get ready to leave,” he said as he ushered
them into his home.
Jet watched him carefully. He looked Earth, but these were people involved in the Fire Nation
network, what they looked like didn’t matter.

“Is that Suki?” A woman swung into view, her greying black hair braided into a long plat and
a bag slung over one arm. “You need to run, get out of the lower ring if you can. We’re out of
time.”

“I can’t do that, Nanako, I have to fight,” Suki said, determined.

Even without the Fire Nation name, Jet would have pegged this woman as one of them. He
kept his mouth shut though, and just watched.

“They will kill us when they take the city,” Nanako said. Her awful golden eyes were pinched
with fear. “Once they have subdued the city, they will hunt us all down. Traitors to the Fire
Nation will not be allowed to live.”

“They won’t take it if we fight them back,” Suki said. Her fists were clenched tightly.

“They will,” Nanako said with finality. Her mouth was turned down and tight. She looked
like she was in physical pain. Jet couldn’t even find any joy in it. There was too much at
stake here.

And she was right. About the Fire Nation taking the city, at least. “The army is unprepared.
All the able-bodied people here are untrained. Being kept ignorant,” Jet said. His own anger
bubbling up for a moment, but Suki didn’t chastise him for his tone. He glared at the woman.
“But you’re Fire,” he said. He wasn’t sure if it was an accusation or a denial of her imagined
impending death. It wasn’t right for them to be so afraid when the streets would soon be
littered with the charred corpses of the Earth folk who lived here, who had built these streets
and houses.

“I was,” Nanako said. “Now I’m stateless. I’ve lived here longer than I have there. I ran to
the colonies first.” She tightened the strap on her bag with sharp, jerky movements. “Met
Bowen, who was born there, fully Earth.” She sighed, looking old and tired. “We couldn’t be
together even there. We had to leave. We just wanted to live. To get married, to just be in
peace. We came here. And now they have come. There is nowhere left to run.”

It was convincing. Both her pain and her words. It was a confusing feeling. It didn’t mean he
forgave her or her people, and he wouldn’t piss on her if she was on fire, but he didn’t think
she was lying, and her emotional exhaustion and fear were as real as his own. He didn’t like
it. He couldn’t trust her. Any of them, not ever. Not even Bowen, who was Earth.

She looked at him right in the eyes. “By leaving Fire Nation rule, we are traitors. The only
option is death. By the sword or by fire. Better if you do it now, guard boy, I can see you
want to.” She lifted her chin defiantly.

He did. His hand itched for his swords. The faces of the dying, the burned screaming ghosts
of his family, his friends and people swum in front of his eyes for a moment.
“If he tries, I’ll skewer him,” Suki said, shooting him a look that was part threat and part
vague amusement.

He took a breath. Drew in another.

Bowen dumped his own bags on the table. “Suki, you must try to find somewhere to hide.
They will burn the lower ring, to show they mean business, before they move deeper. This
place is too narrow, fire will spread quickly. You have to get out. Move up if we can.”

“What about you?”

“There will be nowhere for us to hide. Yes, maybe for a week or two, but once they start
hunting for defectors, then even our citizen friends won’t be able to hide us. That’s how they
work. People will start turning in their neighbours to save themselves, their families.”

“I don’t believe that,” Suki insisted.

Nanako sighed again. “It will happen.”

Suki let out a breath that ruffled the hair that had fallen in front of her face. “Be that as it
may, let’s not let it get to that stage. First, we get people to safety. Then we work out a way to
get out of the city. Don’t you have a plan in place for something like this?” She gestured
towards the door. The sounds on the street were getting louder. “Or if the city had finally got
its shit together and realised they have Fire folk here and we are actually at war?”

“This is the last resort for most of us,” Nanako said. “This was the plan.”

Suki looked frustrated. “At the very least, we need to get the children with mixed blood
somewhere safe. They might get lumped in with the adults. There are so many of them here.”

Jet couldn’t help but think of the golden eyes among the kids from Wang’s. They didn’t
deserve what had been done to them, by Earth people, any more than he had deserved the
destruction of his family by Fire. To then be rounded up and killed for the crime of being
born was just unacceptable.

“We’ll help get children out. We will find a way to keep them alive,” he said at last. He had
been all over this city. There had to be somewhere safe from the flames. The sewers maybe?
It was dirty, dangerous in a different way. But safe from the inferno these narrow streets
would become. Then they would think about getting out of the city.

Suki was watching him with a careful expression. “Even those with Fire Blood? Even those
who are all Fire?” she asked.

“Yes, even them.”

He hoped he wouldn’t regret it.

…..……….
Waking up to Zuko’s warm weight on his shoulder and chest was so good. The time apart had
been too full of fear to really appreciate how much Sokka had missed this.

And even though he had woken before dawn with the phantom scent of burned flesh in his
nose, at the back of his throat, lingering with the feel of a scream, he had calmed quickly,
with the warmth and smell of his friend all around him. He relished this rare time where he
was awake first and got to watch Zuko sleep for a bit.

His hair had gotten longer, not seeing him for a week or so made it more obvious. It was
flopping towards his eyes, hanging down the nape of his neck. Sokka ran his fingers through
it, enjoying the brush of his hand across hot skin.

Of course, his relief and comfort was hampered by concern over the repercussions of their
falling out.

And Jet.

The Jet one was worrying him more, and that was probably stupid. But he hated how he was
with ‘Li‘. He touched him a lot; pats on the back, arm squeezes, even just brushing past him
with a hand on his waist. It was like watching an animal get desensitised. And Sokka could
hardly say ‘stop touching my friend, you are getting him used to casual contact and I don’t
like it,’ because it was probably good for Zuko. It would certainly be good for other people’s
health if it cut down any violence triggered by surprise touching.

Thing was, Jet was very respectful about it. He made sure Zuko knew he was going to be
touched with exaggerated gestures or a quiet word, much like Sokka did when he thought
hugging was needed. But when it was Jet doing it, Sokka hated it.

Which was just jealousy. Yeah, there were other good reasons to be very cautious of Jet, but
he could be honest enough with himself to see what was at the core of it. Sokka had said
Zuko could experiment with other people and he would be okay with it. And he was trying to
stay true to that...But why did it have to be Jet? Sokka hated it.

And worse, Jet knew it.

Yesterday when the bastard gave Zuko a one-armed hug, pulled him in towards his body and
only received an irritated grunt, not an elbow to the ribs or a punch to the face, Jet had looked
right at Sokka. His expression had been all innocent, but Sokka could sense the smirk under
it. And he wanted to fucking murder him for it.

“Sokka?” Zuko asked from somewhere under his chin. His voice was even more raspy than
usual, still thick with sleep.

“Morning.”

“Why are you awake?”

Sokka pulled him a little closer for a moment and Zuko’s arm around his chest tightened in
response. “Just thinking. Seeing as I’m up with the dawn, do you think we could go see if we
can find another sword? The river took mine.” He shivered, pushing down a sudden flood of
sense memory.

“Okay.” Zuko stretched where he lay, his body tightening and flexing where they touched.

Sokka shuddered slightly at the feel of it. “It’s just you know a lot more about them than me.
Swords, I mean. What makes a good one.”

Zuko pushed himself up a bit and smirked down at him. “You just want to drag me around
the shops again, like in the village.”

Sokka grinned at him, although for a moment he could smell the burnt corpses that had been
the result of that fun excursion. He shuddered again, this time for a very different reason. He
was going to have to be careful today, he felt like things were very close to the surface, the
past swimming under his skin like a sickness.

“I feel a bit... out of sorts,” he said, while Zuko scowled at him attentively. “Let’s try and
have some fun, get some good food, do some shopping. The lady next door told me that they
have street performers in the west market.”

“I need to get back into the middle ring today,” Zuko said, displaying his usual allergy to fun.

“Yeah, but we could do this too, maybe?”

Zuko considered a moment, his face very intense, before his expression shifted. “Yeah. Okay,
I would like that.”

He looked... quietly excited, and Sokka realised that in another life, it was the sort of day he
would organise as a date. But he wasn’t sure if Zuko had clocked that, or if he was just
looking forward to seeing performers do whatever they did. It was genuinely impossible to
tell, and he wasn’t going to ask. He decided not to worry about it. They would have a fun
time, out of Jet’s reach, just the two of them.

Of course, the rest of the household was already busy by the time they had dressed
themselves, sorted out Sokka’s hair and staggered down the stairs.

Katara was up, or at least she was upright, she didn’t look like she was actually awake yet,
blinking stupidly as she stirred her pot of jook. Tu was sat close to the hearth, reading what
looked like a very boring history of the city.

“Aang and Toph went to look for Appa,” Katara said when Sokka pointed and laughed at her
dozy face. “I thought I may as well get up.”

“In body, if not in spirit.” He smirked at her.

She pointed her spoon at him. “You want food?” she asked threateningly, and he held up his
hands in mock supplication.
“Don’t deny me my breakfast! I will fix my evil ways. Zu too, right?” He elbowed Zuko in
the ribs, hitting just the right spot to make him squeak.

“No. I’m on Katara’s side,” he said with a haughty sniff and all the indignation of an
offended cat. He didn’t like being reminded he was ticklish.

Katara looked very smug, though, while Sokka pretended to pout. He had been correct, their
friendship would be based on a combination of a desire for justice, rage, and ganging up on
him. They were both giving each other conspiratorial looks now, so Sokka muttered and
pouted like any good big brother would, feeling a welcome rush of positivity.

He went to collect their bowls, drying on the sill in the morning sun. Outside, he could see
their elderly neighbour waving her arms at the serious-looking woman from across the
narrow street.

There were quite a few people hurrying about their business, some with worry on their faces,
others with something like a fixed look of fear painting their features.

There was a strange, distant rumbling that Sokka could feel beneath his feet. It wasn’t
unusual to feel tremors and rattling, the overhead transport system ran right above their
house. But this felt a little deeper somehow.

“Do we get earthquakes here?” he asked. That was all they needed. More natural disasters
trying to take them down. Although it could just be some big earthbending. Building homes
or whatever they did with it.

The woman from across the street came running back into view. He waved at her and she
stopped, gesturing for him to join her with frantic movements.

She looked distressed, and he experienced a strong feeling of foreboding seeping through his
skin, completely obliterating the pleasant rush from a moment earlier.

“Guys,” he called as he went out to meet her. Behind him he could hear the others following.

“You must pack up, get ready to leave!” The woman said as soon as he reached her. She was
wringing her hands. “They say the Fire Nation is coming! That people have broken past the
outer wall!”

“The walls are supposed to be impenetrable,” Zuko said flatly. As though his own uncle
hadn’t made it through them once before. As though the drill made for that purpose wasn’t
the thing they had fallen out over.

Sokka stared at her, and the reddened hands rubbing over each other, an unconscious gesture
of fear. Could it be true? Could they have broken through the outer wall while Sokka had
been thinking about Zuko and swords, or enjoying being teased by Katara? It seemed
impossible, but Sokka’s heart was starting to pound in his chest.

Zuko just looked intense, staring into the distance. It was one of his many angry faces, but
one that Sokka associated with concentration. Thinking, listening, or perhaps trying to see
through the buildings in his way with the power of his will alone.

The sound of the city was swelling now he was paying attention. The usual hubbub was at a
different pitch, one that had the edge of panic. Sokka felt the same feeling start to well up in
his stomach.

“I’ve got to gather my things!” The woman said. “My husband is working the fields.” She
was wringing her hands faster now. “I have to pack for him, too.” She hurried away without
glancing back.

If her husband was working the fields, and they had broken through the outer wall… Sokka
wasn’t so sure he would be needing any of his belongings after today.

“Could it be true?” Tu asked, his voice shaky.

Zuko was still staring at the building in his way of the view towards the west. “Yes,” he said.
“You know it.”

Tu shut his eyes, arms coming up to hug himself. Sokka felt his own doing the same. His
mind felt strangely blank.

“Katara!” Aang’s voice rang out. He was pelting towards them, leaving a cloud of pavement
dirt in his wake. Toph was huffing behind him, covered in his dust. “Sokka!” Aang skidded to
a halt in front of them. He was sooty, wide eyed and distressed. “We have to help!”

“What’s happening?” Katara asked, as if they didn’t know.

“They’ve broken through the outer wall! The fields are on fire! The lower ring will be full of
soldiers if they break through the inner wall, too.”

Almost like he had called it into existence, the screaming started. With the shouting came the
crashing and rumbling of earthbending, and more distant, the sound of steel on steel.

Aang looked distraught. “I wanted to help, but I can’t defeat all those people by myself. We
have to go out there and stop them.”

Sokka could feel cold dread from his stomach to the tips of his fingers. He could see it on
Zuko’s face. All of them. They were far, far too late to get to the Earth King. He was so
stupid. They had no time at all, and he spent the morning pissing about and thinking about his
relationship issues.

He felt like the walls of the city were closing in on him, could feel them flickering on the
edge of his vision. He could have prevented this. And now they were stuck here. In the
middle of what would quickly become a massacre. Sokka couldn’t move. Almost like the fear
itself had grown roots and sucked his feet deep into the earth.

Zuko had no such issues. He channelled his own fear into anger, into action. And yeah, often
there was very little sensible thought that went into that reaction, but at least he wasn’t frozen
in shock. And to be fair, he was actually very good at thinking on his feet, making plans and
throwing himself into them. It was just that they tended to be insane.
“Let’s go to the roof,” Zuko said. “We can’t see anything from the streets.”

“Right,” Aang said, apparently relieved someone was taking charge.

Zuko spun and darted into the house. Sokka stayed with his feet welded to the floor until
Katara tugged on his arm. Her face was grim, determined, like she was going to take on the
whole army with her bare hands. “Come on, we need to keep an eye on them.”

He forced himself to move, following the warmth of her fingers on his wrist.

The dash up the stairs felt like an age. Aang and Zuko had gone out the window to their
room. Sokka stuck his head out and had to wonder if Zuko was part cat. No way they were
getting up there without an accident.

He felt a vicious jab to his side from a sharp little elbow. “Let me,” Toph said. She drew
Earth from the street below to form a ladder for them. Very useful, having an earthbender.

Zuko and Aang were both staring off to the west when they joined them. Even from this
vantage, they couldn’t see much, only the smoke and the lick of fierce flame reaching the top
of the buildings. Behind there was a cloud of darkness. The fields burning. All the food for
the city, destroyed.

“Toph,” Zuko asked, his voice grim. “Can you make those steps higher?” He pointed upward
towards the transport rails above them. “Better view from up there.”

Toph blew out a breath. “Yeah, give me a moment. Not easy to make something that tall that
won’t tumble.”

“Shouldn’t we run?” Tu asked quietly.

“We can’t,” Aang said, face determined.

“And go where?” Zuko said, right on top of him.

Sokka closed his eyes for a moment, but that made the sounds of battle louder, more
terrifying.

“Okay,” Toph said. There was strain on her face, but her voice seemed confident.

Sokka was not thrilled at the prospect of climbing up with no handrails—adding them was
probably a bit too much to ask, though. Zuko and Aang darted up the stone steps like freaks,
but the rest of them had a little more trepidation.

“After you,” Sokka said to Tu, who looked like he might pass out.

“I don’t know if I can.”

“You want to stay here and see if they set fire to the house?”.
He looked horrified, but then his face set into a determined expression that rivalled Aang’s,
and he began to climb. Unlike the resident lunatics, he used his hands as well as his feet.

“Good plan,” Katara said faintly, as she began to follow in the same way. Sokka went next,
with Toph bringing up the rear. Her steps as steady as if she was walking on flat ground.

It was windy on the rails, although they were wide enough to stand two abreast, with plenty
of room to spare. From this height they could see the wild fires that had taken hold in the
lower ring, and behind, the inferno in the fields. People were screaming, running between
houses. Even as they watched, soldiers were entering the streets, dressed in their vicious red
armour. The sight was truly horrifying. They were through the inner wall.

People were fighting, but it was nothing to the organised force attacking them. There was
clearly earthbending too, guards and citizens pulling whole structures down on soldiers,
blocking streets. But Sokka couldn’t help but wonder if the houses had all been empty when
they came down. People did wild stuff in desperation.

“We have to help!” Aang was frantic, but Sokka snatched his shirt before he could take off.
Zuko had the other side, his grip white knuckled.

“No,” Sokka said firmly. “We can’t just tear off into this. We have to think of a plan. We can’t
go running around putting out small fires.” He looked at each of them. “Between us, we can
do more good if we coordinate. We have fire, water, earth and air. All things we can use
against the flames.”

“Even air?” Tu said. He looked pale and dizzy from fear, but he hadn’t questioned Sokka’s
inclusion of the element, just its application. Clearly Aang’s rather poor efforts at disguise
had not paid off.

“He can suck the air out of a fire to kill it, right? Direct the flame to travel in a different
direction with wind. We can make safe passages,” Katara said, watching the streets below
them.

“Sokka’s right,” Zuko said, his eyes also on the chaos. “We can’t defeat them.”

“We have to!” Aang looked angry, like he was close to tears. Sokka knew how he felt. They
could have prevented this. They should have.

“I know how this will go!” Zuko snapped. “Everything the Earth army has prepared, they
will counter. They will keep going. They don’t stop, they can’t! The army is trained to die
with honour, and that means die fighting. There will be no retreat. And there is no fish to save
you today!”

“Fish?” Tu said in a weak, terrified voice, that was swimming in confusion.

Sokka ignored him. The wind was rushing past his ears and his heart was beating so loud he
felt it must be drowning him out. “This isn’t about fighting them,” he said, perhaps louder
than he should have. “It has to be about saving people.” He was surprised he couldn’t hear
the despair he felt in his voice. “People are panicking, they will die from the smoke, the
soldiers, or trampling each other.”

Zuko pointed a finger northwest, towards the densest part of the ring. “Let’s head to the guard
tower. It’s the most central point.”

Aang didn’t seem like he was going to fly off, but Sokka kept a close eye on him as they
began to move carefully across the stone rails. They were keeping an ear out for the
transportation system, but it didn’t seem to be running in the lower quarters. In the distance,
higher up, they could see them moving through the middle ring.

Zuko and Katara were stalking ahead like a pair of vengeful spirits, ready to take on all
comers. And Toph was carefully bringing up the rear. Unless they were passing a support
pillar she probably couldn’t actually see much beyond the rails themselves, although she
could smell and hear the battle well enough. If they joined the fight, she would need to be on
the ground.

Momo seemed as upset as the rest of them with the smoke and fire, and strangely, had come
to rest on Tu’s shoulder, clutching at his short hair. The younger boy seemed to be taking
some comfort in the small furry body, petting his flank repetitively.

They weren’t the only ones that seemed to be having trouble keeping the fear at bay, although
in Aang’s case, it turned out to be fear of a different kind.

“You okay there, buddy?” Sokka asked as they trotted as quickly as they safely could.

“I should have helped earlier,” Aang said miserably. “I should have just tried to drive them
back before they broke through the inner wall.”

“Like you said, you’re only one person. There’s only so much you can do alone. You did the
right thing,” Sokka said. His throat was scratchy from the dry, dirty air.

“I froze,” Aang admitted in a small voice. “After the North Pole… You don’t know what I
did, Sokka. I thought I had killed you.” He sounded anguished, and Sokka’s heat ached for
him.

“You didn’t,” Sokka said firmly. “And from what I understand, you didn’t have control, an
ancient spirit did.”

“Isn’t that what the Avatar state is?” Aang asked grimly.

“That’s still you. Just, um, dead you, I guess? La was a very different, very angry entity.” He
wasn’t sure he really understood what had happened, but from what Katara had told him, he
thought he had the right of it. “We will be there if you lose control. Katara will be there and
she will help. Like she did at the air temple, remember?”

Aang nodded, his face growing a little calmer. “I still should have helped.”

“No, I think you did the right thing. Together, we’re stronger. We have more chance of
success.” And there was less chance of Aang losing it and levelling half the town by accident.
He was right to consider that a risk.

Below them was chaos. Burning, screaming, fighting. The sound and smell of it was awful.
Ahead, through the haze, was the guard tower. The fighting seemed to be most intense in the
area surrounding it and the fires were burning fiercely, licking against stone and destroying
the carts and colourful banners and awnings of the market.

“I need to get down,” Toph said. “I can’t see from up here.”

“Yeah.” Sokka paused, blinking towards the tower. “Let’s get onto that building first, then
you, Aang and Katara go down. Direct people back towards the lakes.” Fuck, he didn’t want
Katara on the ground, but she needed to be able to get to the canals to use the water.

“They will be obvious targets by the lakes, out in the open,” Zuko said, squinting through the
haze towards the burning fields, and beyond them, the distant glint of water.

“You would rather they burn?”

There was a sudden clash of steel from below them. On the ground, the red armoured figures
were being beaten back by another wave of soldiers. These were dressed differently, in red,
grey and a splash of gold.

“Who are they? The Dai Li?” Katara asked, doubtfully.

“They’re fire benders,” Tu said, pointing as the two sides clashed again, flame issuing from
both sets of soldiers.

What the fuck was happening? Sokka couldn’t figure it out, but it didn’t change anything.
“Let’s get on to the tower,” he said. As he spoke, some of the haze cleared. They could see
there was a small figure on the northern side of the structure, their long unbound hair
whipping in the wind.

They appeared to be putting out the fires that were climbing the surrounding buildings. The
bending moves sure and steady. From here they could see the…rebel?… soldiers opening
paths for fleeing citizens, defending them from Fire Nation forces, directing them towards the
lake.

“What are they doing? Why are they helping?” Sokka asked aloud.

“Are they sending them there to be slaughtered, or saving them?” Katara added.

“It’s Azula,” Zuko said, his voice shocked and his eyes wide.

“Princess Azula?” Tu asked, staring. “Why is her hair loose? Why isn’t she wearing
armour?”

Both pertinent questions, although what the fuck is she doing? Might have been higher on
Sokka’s list. The hair seemed impractical, and not at all the Fire Nation way. Although her
topknot was held tightly back with red ribbon. There had to be a reason for it. Sokka didn’t
know much about Zuko’s sister, other than the fact she had tried to murder his sister, and had
an...interesting relationship with her brother.

And of course that Iroh had gone to find her. To try to sway her to take a different path.

“Could Uncle have succeeded in changing her mind?” Katara asked, following Sokka’s own
thoughts.

“No,” Zuko said immediately, then hesitated. “Maybe?” He was squinting at her. The flames
were wild as she moved, snuffing them out with exaggerated bending, creating pathways for
people to escape. Smooth and sure, like a dance. People below were looking up at her. Sokka
could see faces at windows where people had hidden in their homes and shops.

“We have to help her. We have to direct the smoke. Or people will die before they even reach
the lakes,” Aang said.

Sokka shook his head, suddenly seeing this for what it was. The slow, obvious bending, the
people watching… “Aang, if you go down there, if the Avatar helps the Fire Princess…”

It would be a brilliant piece of free propaganda. Because that was what she was doing.
Putting out the fires her own people had started. Saving citizens. Her soldiers were driving
back the other ones, the more Fire Nationy red ones.

“What’s she playing at?” Zuko asked, frustrated and tense.

“She’s saving the city,” Sokka said grimly, the whole plan unfurling in his head. It was clever,
but he didn’t know why. Why not just burn Ba Sing Se to the ground? “She’s making sure
everyone can see her doing it.”

Katara sucked in a breath. “If the Avatar goes down there, it’s going to legitimise it.”

But they didn't have another option, it was this or let people suffocate.

“I have to do it anyway,” Aang said tightly.

Sokka nodded. “We all do.” He pointed to Zuko. “Except you, she might-”

Zuko took off, leaping the gap without waiting for Toph to make steps. “Fuck!” Sokka
shouted. “Toph, get us down there!” Azula might kill him, either just because she could,
because of her father’s orders, or just as a bit of extra theatre.

Tu made a garbled, terrified noise as Sokka started down the steps, not letting himself feel the
fear of the drop. Behind him, he could hear Tu following, muttering, perhaps in prayer.

Aang took off, clearing the smoke with swoops and bending. His glider had been lost to the
flood, another terrible loss. But he and Sokka had constructed a new one, with nondescript
greens and browns. Even without the bright Air Nomad orange, it was obvious what he was.

He was vaguely aware of Katara and Toph heading lower, down to street level, but he had to
trust they would look after each other.
Azula was watching Aang, a small smile on her face. She was sooty, and didn’t look much
like a Fire Nation princess. Right now, she just seemed like a slightly sweaty girl doing her
damnedest to save people from an inferno. If he didn’t know…

She moved her arms, snuffing out flames that had been crawling up the building opposite.
This close, it was clear she was working hard, her limbs shaking slightly from the effort,
although her feet were planted firmly.

She had obviously been aware of Zuko since his boots had touched the roof tiles, but she had
ignored him until the rest of them caught up. Now she smiled, small and a little savage.
“Hello brother. Fancy meeting you in a place like this.”

“Azula, what are you doing?”

“Saving Ba Sing Se, obviously. Your powers of observation really haven’t improved much,
have they?”

“Does father know?”

She sneered slightly. “Of course. I wouldn’t take a city without him, would I?”

Zuko looked a little baffled. “Are you lying?” he asked. “Father would never sanction this.
He would never allow our soldiers to fight each other.”

“It would make him look weak,” Sokka added. His own eyes narrow as he considered her.

She shot him an irritated glare, but ignored him in favour of Zuko. “Don’t just stand there,
lend a hand.” Instead of waiting for him to respond, she turned to Tu, looking him up and
down with a raised eyebrow. He looked like he was going to faint. The fire was gleaming,
reflected in her eyes, making her look more frightening than a teenage girl had any right to
be. “You as well,” she said at last.

Sokka wondered briefly how she had known he was a firebender. Could she do the Chi trick
too? Could you just tell by looking at a person? He hadn’t heard that before, if so.

Sokka was forced to leave them to it, heading to the edge of the roof and trying to shout
directions down to his friends working on he ground. It was hard through the noise and the
smoke, but it did seem like they were making progress.

It went on for hours, Sokka following in the wake of the three firebenders as they moved
from roof to roof. Zuko and his sister made the leaps effortlessly. They seemed to have a
different relationship with gravity than the rest of the world. Did their freakishly warm bodies
make them lighter somehow? No, Zuko had sat on him more than once, he was definitely not
light. And Tu seemed to be having the same trouble Sokka was in keeping up with them.

It was possible Sokka was suffering somewhat in the smoke. Lack of good air and
dehydration addling his brains. His head was spinning.

Eventually, the fire seemed to be under control, and the red soldiers had been beaten back by
Azula’s troops, the citizens and guards. The Earth army seemed very obviously absent.
Perhaps they had gone up to the middle ring to protect the important people while the poor
burned.

Sokka sucked in a breath, wiping soot and sweat from his face. He was filthy, exhausted. And
he hadn’t even done any fighting or bending.

Azula was just as dirty, but she still looked light on her feet. Although close up, there were
faint tremors in her hands. She crossed her arms across her chest, staring at her brother
challengingly. Tu was bent double, breathing hard. But Zuko was showing very little signs of
the exhaustion he must be feeling.

“You can’t have the city,” Zuko said after a long pause where he might have been getting his
breathing under control.

“Would you rather I let it burn?”

Sokka didn’t like having his earlier words repeated. But he couldn’t even muster up the
breath for a sarcastic comment. What was wrong with them they could just have a
conversation after all that?

“And you can’t have the Avatar, either,” Zuko said. Which, good point, that was now another
serious concern.

Azula rolled her eyes with an exaggerated motion. You could definitely see the family
resemblance. “I have no interest in capturing the Avatar,” she said. “I thought that was your
job. Good work, by the way. He looks very subdued.”

Sokka scowled at her. “Why wouldn’t you want to take out the Avatar?” He paused to cough
a bit. “Unless you did this without the Fire Lord’s consent.”

“Where’s uncle?” Zuko asked before she could answer. Clearly his priorities were somewhat
different, and Sokka sort of wanted to kick him, but he might fall over if he tried. Instead, he
just wheezed a little.

“Safe and sound.”

Zuko looked wild around the eyes and he took a step towards her. “He thinks I’m dead. I
have to see him.”

“No,” Azula said, flatly.

“You weren’t surprised to see Zuko,” Sokka said.

“He sent me a lovely letter. I knew. So I wasn’t shocked. Although I am surprised at the
company you’re keeping.” She looked at Tu again. He squeaked, skin pale under the dirt.

“How do you know him?” Sokka jerked a thumb at the other boy.

Azula cocked her head slightly, watching Tu. “His sister is in my service. She has been very
worried about you. You do look a lot alike.”
Tu gasped. “Hua is alive?” He looked like he was going to pass out and Sokka really felt for
him. “When the soldiers came...”

“Yes, she is well. Your mother I can’t find news of. I doubt she lives.”

Tu closed his eyes in obvious grief, and a small noise escaped him. Azula had a slightly coy
look on her face. Like she knew a secret. “Your father was executed, of course. That was
quite vexing.”

“What was his crime, Your Highness?” Tears were rolling down Tu’s face, cutting tracks in
the soot. “No one told me.”

“Treason.” Azula was as blunt as her brother, but there was something that reminded Sokka
of a cat at play that Zuko lacked. “But he was acting for me, in a way. Although they were
not my orders.” She tapped a finger against her chin, looking between him and Zuko. “He
was on board Admiral Zhao’s ship. Your father freed the prisoners he was holding.” She
smiled, just slightly. “Taiju was a good man,” she said, looking almost convincingly solemn,
except she was watching Zuko like a hawk would watch a snow rat.

Zuko blanched, and Sokka felt an answering swoop in his belly. What were the odds?

“Why would he do that?” Tu asked, voice thick.

“Because it was the right thing to do,” Sokka answered hoarsely. “Because he was a good
man.” He wasn’t sure that was true. Did one good deed absolve the bad? But it was what Tu
needed. And it was what Sokka would have wanted to hear if he was in that situation.

Zuko was looking at Tu with a worrying intensity. But he forced his eyes away and back on
to his sister.

“What will you do?” he asked.

She shrugged. “He committed no crime to me and mine,” she said smoothly. “You are in no
danger from me.”

“Azula!” Aang landed lightly beside them. He was as dirty as the rest of them, trails of sweat
in the soot on his face. “Where’s Uncle?”

“He’s not your uncle,” she said tartly. She shifted slightly, moving her body to a different
position, and Sokka saw that Katara and Toph had made it back into the roof. He knew
Katara had been alright, but Sokka still felt a flood of relief at the sight of her.

“What have you done to him?” Aang demanded.

“Nothing. He’s safe away from the fighting.” Azula looked at her wickedly sharp nails.

“You must have done something! Are you holding him prisoner?”

“Prisoner? Avatar, whose plan do you think this is?”

Aang looked furious. “He wouldn’t!”

“He is the Dragon of the West. It is his destiny to take this city. Of course he would.”

Sokka had to agree with her there. He didn’t have the same attachment to Iroh that the rest of
them did. This didn’t surprise him at all.

“Water Tribe,” she addressed him fully for the first time. “Your father is still out there,
beyond the walls. We took great pains not to fight him. You have somewhere to scurry back
to if you want.” She paused, glancing back at Tu. “And you? Take a care to remember where
your loyalties are. I look after my own. I have protected your sister, and in turn, she serves
me well.”

That was a thinly veiled threat if ever Sokka had heard one. And from the look on Tu’s face,
he knew it. Sokka would have to keep an eye on things there. It was very possible Tu could
not be trusted after this. Not fully. If it was Katara in this situation, he didn’t know what he
would do. He wouldn’t allow harm to his sister, that’s for sure.

Azula clicked her tongue. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have things to do.”

“We will stop you,” Aang said, stepping forward.

“And how many civilians will die without your help? The water is polluted. The crops have
burnt. I have an army behind me. If you fight me, you fight them. Can you risk it?” She
didn’t look worried in the least. “Not all of you will survive if you try. And if you are
planning to take down my father, well, I would think you would want to be nice and healthy.
Do the right thing, Avatar. Help the people and enjoy my rule. It will be kinder than any other
you might face.”

She was right, and they all knew it. They couldn’t fight them all. Not without huge risk to
themselves and the people of the city. If Aang entered the Avatar state, he could win, but at
what cost?

“I will even go a step further. I will swear no harm will come to you from me and mine while
I rule this city. Live out your days here, or flee. I don’t care.”

“Azula,” Zuko growled at her, clearly as confused as the rest of them by her behaviour.

“You too, Zuzu, you also have nothing to fear from me, as long as you continue to be the
abject failure you always have been, and the Avatar remains free.”

That cemented the thought that had been floating around Sokka’s mind. She was not just
doing this for her father’s favour. She was moving against him.

“Shut up, Azula. You are-” Zuko began, but she was already walking away, leaping from the
roof with the grace of a cat.

“Let her go.” Sokka grabbed Zuko’s wrist as he started forward.

“What is she doing?” Zuko asked, furious and upset.

“I think,” Sokka began carefully. “That Azula has her own plan. She could have fought us,
she didn’t. She didn’t fight my father. She didn’t want the Avatar.”

“It doesn’t make sense. It’s not like her.”

“We are not currently her enemy,” Sokka continued. “She wants the Avatar alive and free. All
of this makes sense if you think of it from another perspective. If she and Iroh are planning to
challenge your father.”

“No!” Zuko looked so confused and conflicted. “No, Uncle wouldn’t do that. We have to find
him.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I don’t know if he can be trusted,” Sokka admitted. It
probably wasn’t the best idea to confront him directly with this, but he couldn’t think of a less
fraught way to say it. Not one that could break through Zuko’s distress.

“You can’t say that! You don’t know him!”

“Zuko’s right. He wouldn’t betray us.” Of course, Aang would be on Zuko’s side in this
already very messy situation.

Katara lifted a hand before the shouting could really get going. “Uncle said she was in danger
from your father.” She reached out her hand and laid it on Zuko’s arm. “He thought Ozai had
killed you. He was very angry. Very. I think Sokka is right, he might be planning a coup. He
and Azula. Maybe she doesn’t want to wait to inherit.”

“That sounds like it tracks,” Toph put in.

“Or maybe Iroh was right,” Katara continued. “Maybe she is in danger from Ozai. Uncle
made a pretty good case for it, when we spoke.”

Zuko’s face screwed up. “He likes her. My father likes her!”

Sokka couldn’t hold back the noise that came out of his mouth, something close to a scoff,
slightly hampered by a small coughing fit. “Your father is an evil, uncaring son of a bitch.
What if he stopped liking her? What if she spoke out of turn?”

Zuko touched his face, clearly a subconscious gesture, before he turned away, shoulders
heaving with sharp breaths. Sokka was surprised to find that despite all the fear, confusion
and despair, he still had a little more emotion in him to feel horrible for his friend.

But there was no comfort he could give. “We are not in any immediate danger from her. So
we do what we can. We help people and we hope she doesn’t take the rest of the city. She has
the lower ring. There are two more to go.”

“She will take it,” Zuko said miserably.

“So we find a way to take it back.”

Chapter End Notes

Some amazing art to share!

Hms-hot-take did another of their amazing Vines – a pure joy! Find it Here

And the amazing smallsinger5901 who drew this awesome pic from the last chapter
Here

dishwasherh Shared this beautiful scene from Chapter 32 Here

monti-moth drew these wonderful character studies: Here

And the amazing Inuns shared this awesome picture Here

Next chapter: Hua explores her options, Hakoda considers the situation, Shen spots a
possible opportunity, Azula consolidates her success and Katara is not happy to be
agreeing with Jet, but a girl’s got to do what a girl’s got to do (plot insurrection,
obviously)
 Chapter 39
Chapter Summary

“She has given her whole life in service. Why shouldn’t she be represented?”

“She’s a bird, Zuko.”

Chapter Notes

Thank you all for the amazing comments and kudos!

Warnings chapter 39
Death, casual cruelty to prisoners, general unpleasantness.

Many thanks to my beta burkesl17, who has managed to wrangle my dyslexic nonsense.
All mistakes are my own.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Azula sat on her throne and surveyed the great hall of the Earth King.

She found it a little drab and underwhelming. But it was hers now. Ba Sing Se was hers.

After the lower city had fallen, they had gone straight to the top. The troops had launched an
attack on the middle ring and finally met resistance, but it had only been for show.

Azula and a few carefully chosen people had disguised themselves with enemy uniforms and
used earthbending to get through the wall. Just a small group. Not enough to raise suspicion,
they had just been combatants moving to protect the upper levels.

As Azula had long suspected, people were stupid. Even in times of crisis, especially in times
of crisis. They only saw what they wanted to see. She had been part of a unit of earthbenders,
therefore they must be on the side of the Earth King. While it was distasteful to utilise colony
born benders, it was undeniably useful.

Uncle might even have been impressed. The thought both pleased and annoyed her.

She had left Jianjun in charge of the lower ring. His task was to keep it locked down, to stop
resistance and to keep the peace. His soldiers, the ones in traditional red, had been driven out
and replaced by her own. Once outside the city, the vast majority of them had changed
uniform and reentered as her own forces. Although some had remained in red, a visible threat
beyond the walls. Jianjun himself had also changed into her colours before taking charge.
That had been satisfying in itself.

Capturing the upper ring had been pathetically easy. They had gained entrance to the palace
using intel of secret passages kindly provided by her spy in the Dai Li, and gone after the
king directly. They had taken out the three generals with him simply by threatening the king’s
life.

Once she had him, the rest fell into place.

The Dai Li had been by far the biggest threat. Their leader was the de facto ruler of Ba Sing
Se. But his second in command, a man called De Ming, had given him up. Given up his
whole country for the offer of leadership.

The king himself hadn’t even known what was going on. He was a wet, pathetic excuse for a
man, let alone a ruler. She was doing these people a favour taking him out. He was under
house arrest until she had use for him. The generals and Long Feng had been locked up.
Unfortunately, she was missing two of the council of five. That was very irritating. She didn’t
like having variables she couldn’t control.

They couldn’t imprison all the combatants, there were just too many of them, but they could
lock up any commander that did not fall into line. Even so, the lack of space was a concern.
De Ming had alerted her to the presence of a second prison complex, one used by the Dai Li,
and she had plans to put that to good use.

They had some cells set up to contain earthbenders and firebenders, but it was inevitable
some might slip through the net and be assigned to the wrong prison. So she was planning
methods that might stop any disruptive behaviour before it started. It was a work in progress,
but the easiest option was to make all cells suitable for earthbenders. Not a small
undertaking, but one that needed to be implemented immediately.

“Azula.” Jianjun strode into the room, looking very grand in her colours.

“Address me properly.”

He paused and bowed, barely enough to be decent. “Princess Azula, daughter of the eternal
flame.”

“Better. What do you have to report?”

“De Ming has been holding back. Questioning of the men loyal to Long Feng has revealed
they are holding the Avatar’s bison.”

She leant forward a little. “Are they really? I did wonder why he was keeping the beast out of
the fight.” She tapped the arm of the throne with her fingers. “Naughty of De Ming not to
mention that.”
Jianjun sneered. “As much as I hate to give any credit to traitors and snakes, it is possible he
didn’t know. It seems that Long Feng was keeping some cards close to his chest, even among
his own. Maybe suspecting trouble in his ranks.”

“Perhaps.”

“Long Feng himself is offering to deal with you. He’s very keen to save his own skin. Didn’t
like the questioning much.”

“No, well, most people don’t. The man is, as you put it, a snake. But he might prove useful.”
She leaned back on the throne again. “Have Fire Sage Mushi and Kazuma arrived?”

“Yes. They were safe on the boats the whole fight,” Jianjun said with a curl of his lip.

“On my orders. No point in risking a stay arrow taking out people who better serve me with
their brains. I want you to continue hunting down the two missing generals; Yiwen and How.
We will all meet in my rooms this evening to discuss the next steps.”

Jianjun bowed, a little deeper than last time, and swept away. He seemed to be enjoying his
role as her top general. And if she was being honest, he had done well so far. But it was going
to be a lot trickier to keep the peace than to attack a city. Even one well protected as Ba Sing
Se had been.

What to do about the bison, though? That would be useful, assuming it was true. Azula didn’t
like De Ming. He was a traitor to his people. Although very helpful to her, it meant he could
not be trusted. Once a traitor, always a traitor. She couldn’t help but wonder what else they
were keeping back.

She met with her advisers in the accommodation she had carefully chosen for herself. The
bedchamber was well protected, and the main rooms were grand enough for holding council.
There were fewer chances for spies to overhear in more private quarters. The décor wasn’t
too bad either; the ceilings were high, and the swirling designs of twisting foliage stretching
up the long pillars were tolerable, although the muted colours could have used some work.

Her uncle was still dressed as a sage. It suited him. Kazuma and Ichika had arrived in plain
robes, although they seemed to have taken the time to change at least.

It wasn’t much of a council, but it would do.

After discussing the plans for the city and logistical matters regarding their forces, it was time
to get down to the meaty stuff.

“I have learnt that the Dai Li are holding the Avatar’s bison,” she said, watching her uncle
carefully.

His eyes widened a fraction. “What are you planning to do, niece?” he asked.

She crossed one leg over the other, leaning back in her chair. It was slightly elevated on a
small dais, making it feel a little like the throne in the great hall. “I could use it to draw him
out.” She tossed her head slightly. “Or get rid of it.” She had no intention of doing any such
thing, but she was interested in seeing what Iroh would do. The Avatar had been protective,
defensive of him. Her uncle, not his. She suspected this affection was returned, and that was
another cause for concern. Would he betray her for the little bald brat?

“Azula, you must not,” Iroh said sternly. His forehead was creased, his gaze intense. Very
poor of him to show his hand in such a way.

“Oh?”

“The bison is both a bargaining chip, and as the Avatar’s animal guide, it is also a source of
his strength.” She didn’t think he meant that literally. He meant his emotional strength.
Which was also obviously a weakness.

“All the more reason to get rid of it, don’t you think? Don’t you always tell me to use every
advantage?”

He stroked his beard and considered her. “Yes, Azula. But do not let your victory here go to
your head. Dealing with your father directly will be complicated. Even if we manage to make
Ba Sing Se work for us, gather support of some Earth forces, taking the throne is likely to be
far more difficult. The Avatar would be a very useful ally.”

And now they came to it. “Do you think he would ever join forces with me, uncle?”

“Perhaps not, but if we fail to take down your father, he will. Or at least, he will try, and if he
fails, we may have a second chance. Do not waste his potential.”

“Are you sure this is not just more sentiment?”

He nodded, conceding the point. “Sentiment is part of it. I am very fond of the Avatar and his
young friends. But practicality is far more important at this stage.” He paused and looked up
at her, eyes sharp. “I have heard rumour that he is in the city, that he aided you in the fighting.
This was very cleverly done, Azula.”

She hated the small thrill his praise gave her, but she kept her face calm.

He was right, having the Avatar on her side would sway public opinion, one way or the other.
It was unsurprising that the rumour had spread. It may have also overshadowed any talk of
the other help she’d had. And she wasn’t going to mention Zuko to him if he didn’t know.
The smoke and chaos would almost certainly have limited anyone actually recognising Zuzu.
She had barely recognised him.

If she was honest with herself, seeing her brother had been a shock. She had heard the
scarring was bad, but it hadn’t really prepared her for just how bad. She had struggled with
her first response, the urge to mock him for it. To lash out. But it was better she acted
composed and ignored it.

But even with her victory, she had struggled to sleep that night. She could almost feel the
flames on her own cheek. Smell the sickly scent of burnt flesh.
She held back the shudder that wanted to work its way through her. She was no Zuko. She
would not fail.

There was a brief knock at the door and Jianjun strode in, still in full armour.

“You are supposed to wait for me to grant you entrance,” she said cooly.

He bowed, deep enough to placate her somewhat. “My apologies, Princess Azula.” Perhaps
he could be trained with some work.

“Is it too much to hope you have some good news?”

He straightened. “Not much, Your Highness. Warships are on the river, trying to get through
Hakoda’s blockade. I believe they are being commanded by Admiral Zhao.”

Now there was a man she planned to eviscerate slowly. But he could also prove useful before
she took her vengeance. Her uncle’s face looked dark with murderous promise, and Ichika
and Kazuma both seemed a little nervous. As well they might. She would use Kazuma’s
relationship with the admiral to her advantage, and he probably wasn’t looking forward to it.
That is, if the odious man made it through the Water Tribe ships.

“And your other task?” she asked.

“Intense questioning of other prisoners has revealed nothing of the whereabouts of the two
missing generals.”

Very vexing. “Did they make it out of the city?”

“It’s possible. Or they may be in hiding.”

“If they are here, I want them found. Then I will have them publicly executed for daring to
defy me.”

Kazuma made a small noise and his rigid expression looked particularly truculent. Azula
resisted rolling her eyes.

“You object to this plan?” she asked.

“Your Highness,” he began a little hesitantly, although his voice picked up strength as he
spoke. “I’m not sure execution is the right option. You have done excellent work so far
keeping order, but there will be much more needed. These people are not like ours. They will
not be grateful for their lives.”

“That’s stupid. They should be giving thanks for their homes to still be standing and food in
their bellies. They should be thankful to me.”

“You are a usurper. A conqueror. Yes, they are alive, but they want their own rule, not yours,
however kind it is. They will fight you, and in order to build on what you have begun to
create, you will have to tread gently. You can’t come down hard. You must show mercy.”
“Are you quite finished?”

He let out a breath, looking directly at her. “No. You will find that there are crimes, atrocities
being committed by our soldiers in the lower ring. It’s inevitable. We must find any
perpetrators and publicly punish them. You must also be seen to be just as well as merciful.”

She rose from her chair and moved down the steps towards him. His body stiffened slightly,
but he remained upright. Even when she stepped closer to him, he didn’t flinch. “It is your
duty to do as I command you,” she said, voice cold and dangerous.

“It is my duty to you to advise what I believe is best for your success.”

He had the audacity to hold her gaze for a beat before he fell to his knees and pressed his face
to the floor. She had to struggle to hold back her anger. She had said she would listen even if
she didn’t like what she had heard. But outright contradiction in front of witnesses had to be
punished. Last time she had allowed him to get away with it, and clearly the lack of
boundaries was confusing for him.

Ichika looked pale, strained and afraid, but she at least had some proper respect. Jianjun
looked speculative. And Iroh... had an expression she might say was proud as he looked at
her. He nodded slightly. It was her lack of a violent reaction he was proud of, she was sure.

She hated the way that knowledge made her feel. That his pride made her feel anything but
contempt. She was really struggling with it today, and that made her feel tetchy and cross.

“I will consider your advice.” she said, voice still frigid. “However, if you ever speak to me
in such a way again, I will have you stripped naked and publicly beaten. As it is, you will
remain there and consider your behaviour.” She turned to Jianjun. “Take me to speak to our
troops.”

Their father had made her and Zuzu remain in such positions as punishment when they had
been children. After two hours, it felt like your knees, back and thighs were on fire. She
would return in four. “Kazuma, reflect on your words until I return.”

“As you command, Your Highness,” he said to the floor under his face.

She had a suspicion that he would not learn his lesson.

That was likely to become a problem.

…………….

Their house was miraculously still standing. Next door to the left seemed to have been burnt
down to its foundations, although the one to the right was also still in one piece. The door
was open, creaking slightly in the ashy breeze.
Sokka had the thought they should check on all their neighbours, but he just had nothing left.
He had felt worse after the boat, but it was a near thing. His body ached from exhaustion and
his lungs were tight from the smoke. Emotionally, he felt wrung out. All that was left was a
vague feeling of horror and a guilt so sharp it prickled under his skin like needles.

He could see the same reflected in the faces of his friends. All but Zuko, who looked weirdly
blank, like he had completely overloaded and just shut himself down.

Tu was silently crying, his arms wrapped around himself. After they entered the house, he
just stood in the middle of the room, too lost to even retreat to the Freedom Fighters’ rooms.
Sokka wished he could comfort him, but he could barely bring himself to look at him. Still
processing the fact Taiju was his father, and the fact his actions in saving them had caused Tu
to lose everything. That wasn’t Sokka’s fault. That was on Taiju, and the Fire Nation itself.
But... his feelings about it were intense and confused. So he allowed Zuko to pull him down
into their common area near the fire pit and left the comfort to others better suited to such
things.

Katara had one arm around Aang, but she spared the other for Tu, drawing him close and
leading him towards the empty hearth. Like Katara, Aang also seemed to draw strength from
helping others, and he moved to Tu’s other side, boxing him in with warm affection. No one
spoke.

The silence was awful, even though Sokka couldn’t bring himself to break it. There was an
eerie quiet over everything. The screaming from outside had stopped. The soldiers, Azula’s
soldiers, had ordered people to go home, or head for the lakes if they had no home left
standing. They didn’t seem to be harming people. Not unless they were attacked first. But he
was sure there was unpleasantness happening. It was a big city. Lots of people to keep down.
Sokka could feel the urge to go out and help, but they needed rest first. And to make a plan.

He just couldn’t make his brain even begin to start forming one. It felt like it just couldn’t get
out of the starting blocks. He tried focusing on things around him, like Shen had suggested,
when he felt himself sliding out of reality. Zuko’s warmth pressed against his side. That was
good. But all he could smell was smoke and fire and burnt things. And the focusing on
external stimulus was making his skin itch. His arms mostly, where the scars were. He
couldn’t even tell if it was a real itch, caused by the heat from earlier, or if it was completely
in his own head.

He tried rubbing his arms together over the top of the wrappings and his sleeves. It didn’t
help. But it did seem to rouse Zuko from wherever he had gone in his head. He put a hot hand
on Sokka’s arm, stopping the increasingly frantic movements.

“Is it itching?” he asked. His voice was cracked and ruined with smoke. Fuck knows what all
their lungs were like. Sokka felt like he was housing whole lumps of coal down there.

“Yeah,” he croaked.

“I’ll get the oil.” Zuko stood. As usual, acting as soon as a thought entered his head, but not
taking into account the physical limitations he might encounter. In this instance, the crash of
adrenaline and exhaustion. He staggered, almost falling face first into the fireplace before
catching himself.

Sokka felt his first new emotion of the hour; affection. It was an incredible relief to feel
something else after what felt like an eternity of guilt and grief. He watched Zuko
determinedly wobble up the stairs, only occasionally bouncing off the walls, cussing quietly
under his breath, and felt another storm wave of feeling break through; thankful.

In all the horror and shit that they had all had to wade through, having these people around
him made things bearable.

Zuko returned with the lightly fragranced oil they shared for their many burn scars, and a
pouch of rice which he dumped in their pot, along with water from the bucket they kept on
the side for drinking and cooking. Sokka had to wonder what sort of state their water well
was going to be in. Perhaps bending could clear any contaminants for them. If so, they might
have to offer that service to the city as a whole.

They all jumped when Zuko started the fire. He blinked at them. “Need to eat,” he said. Then
he abandoned the food to cook and flopped back down beside Sokka, lacking all of his usual
grace.

“Give me your arms,” he said, already grabbing for the nearest one and tugging at the
wrappings.

It was a ritual that was intimate, and not something that Sokka was really that comfortable
sharing with the group. But at the same time, the comfort of it was calling him, so he let Zuko
unwrap his scars.

Zuko rubbed the oil briefly between his hands before he began to massage Sokka’s ruined
skin. It was quite gentle for Zuko, which was to say it was a bit like having his arms kneaded
and thumped like particularly troublesome dough.

The sensation was soothing, and he shut his eyes, blocking out any chance of seeing
whatever expression Katara had on her face. He didn’t want sadness, indulgence, or pity. The
moment of calm, the thought of dough and the faint smell of cooking rice made Sokka’s mind
wander pleasantly. “You know, one of the best things about the Earth Kingdom is noodles,”
he said.

Zuko grunted, Sokka thought the tone sounded like agreement, and like that complete non
sequitur made sense. “You don’t have noodles in the Water Tribes?” Zuko asked, reaching for
Sokka’s other arm and yanking him around a bit, moving him as effortlessly as though he was
a small child.

“Nope.”

“We have them in the Fire Nation, too,” Zuko muttered, almost defensive, like he was
offended Sokka liked Earth Kingdom noodles and not Fire ones. His fingers dug into Sokka’s
skin, but the sensation was still pleasant.
“Yeah, but I’ve never tried Fire noodles and the attempted genocide of my people kind of
spoils the taste.”

“But you just said-”

“The hypothetical taste.”

Zuko made an intense frowny face, and it lifted Sokka’s spirits a little.

“I don’t understand you. First it was metaphorical rainbows, which made no sense, and now
its hypothetical noodles that taste of genocide.”

Sokka couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. Although he really had meant that, it wasn’t a
joke, but Zuko’s indignant, bemused tone released some tension he had been holding in his
body. He could see an answering humour in Katara and Aang, and Toph was cackling. It
helped remind him there was something beyond their shock and grief.

He leaned into Zuko’s warmth, taking a little of the sting out of his amusement by offering up
the best, warmest smile he could. Zuko’s eyes were soft, but he was still pouting. “We get a
chance, I promise I will try them, okay?” Sokka offered.

“Alright.”

The moment was broken when their door swung open, and Smellerbee and Longshot
stumbled through. Sooty, a little bloody and clearly exhausted.

“Are you okay?” Tu said, shrugging off Katara’s friendly hands and getting to his feet. His
eyes were wide.

Katara was right behind him. “Are you hurt? I can heal any injuries you have, but you’ll need
to clean up first.”

Smellerbee waved them off. “We’re fine. Blood’s not ours.” Her voice was creaky with
smoke and fatigue. “Where’s Jet?”

“No sign,” Katara said shortly. “I’m sure he’s okay. Just holed up somewhere, avoiding the
soldiers.”

Sokka wondered if that was true. He didn’t want a single person to be lost to the Fire Nation.
No one deserved a death at the hands of their land’s invaders. But he did kind of hope Jet had
fallen into a ditch somewhere.

“So what do we do?” Smellerbee asked in the most wounded voice Sokka had ever heard out
of her. She looked very young with Longshot’s arm around her shoulders.

“We rest and then we head out to look for him,” Katara said, a little tart and very firm.

“And then what?”

“Then we keep going,” Katara said fiercely. A little of her passion breaking through her
misery. Then she sighed “Go change,” she said in a slightly more gentle tone.

She watched them climb the stairs to their room with a determined expression on her face.
“We won’t give up,” she said to no one in particular.

Zuko nodded. “Never give up without a fight.”

“That does sound like the kind of mantra you would live by,” Sokka said, elbowing him in
the ribs.

“It’s on my knife.”

Sokka blinked at him. “On your knife? How was it on your knife? What knife?”

“The one Zhao took. On the boat. It was written on the knife.” He huffed out an angry breath,
all his muscles tensing. “My knife. I want it back.”

“I know, buddy.” Sokka patted him consolingly. “Let’s focus on staying alive. Then we can
kill the bastard and go though his stuff, okay? But for now, I like the idea of this knife
writing. It should be Team Steam’s motto.” He gestured wildly, miming the length of the
banner he was envisioning in his head and nearly poking Zuko in the eye. “Team Steam,
Never Give Up Without A Fight.”

“That’s a stupid name,” Toph said. “And leaves out Earth. Rude.”

“I said it was a stupid name,” Zuko muttered. “And she’s right. Three existing members are
Earth.”

Sokka sighed, very put upon, and full of warm affection. “The co-founders of Team Steam
are Water and Fire, hence the name. That said, Earth and Air are, of course, very welcome to
become members, assuming they receive a majority vote.”

Zuko opened his mouth, but Sokka effortlessly rode over him. “The name stays. And are you
really still counting Dumpling as a member? Really?”

“Yes. She has given her whole life in service. Why shouldn’t she be represented?”

“She’s a bird, Zuko.”

“As much as I want the gossip regarding the inner workings of Team Steam, and how it
involves animals,” Toph interrupted. “I think we should make contingency plans.”

Sokka glanced at her. Her feet were stained black with ashes. In spite of her flippant tone, her
laughter and bold words, Sokka thought she was as distressed as the rest of them. She wasn’t
used to losing on a good day, but losing on this scale? With the horrifying consequences? It
must be upsetting. It was easy to forget how young she was. For him, twelve felt like a
decade away from sixteen.
“Such as?” he asked, raising a brow and leaning his weight more comfortably against Zuko’s
body.

“Plan number one; Emergency Escape. Azula promised us no harm, but she is not exactly the
most trustworthy person. We stay, we help, I build a safe tunnel out, just in case.”

“I think we can all get behind that plan,” Sokka agreed. “Good thinking, General Toph.”

She nodded magnanimously.

“And we can’t give up on Appa, either,” Aang said. “We focus on helping people, but we
keep an ear to the ground. I’m not giving up. I still think he’s here somewhere.”

Toph hummed in agreement. “Yes, plan number two; Assuming we find Appa, it’s going to
be a little hard to keep him in the house. Let’s find our landlord and rent next door. We have
the cash for it, and he can hardly charge much for just the burnt up rubble of a house.” She
dusted some dirt off her hands with a clapping sound. “I can build us an Appa sized shed, for
if… When we find him.”

“Good idea, Toph!” Aang said, his mood lifting, and his whole countenance visibly
brightening.

“Who’s Azula?” asked Smellerbee as she headed back down the stairs now dressed in fresh
clothes, her face wiped clean of blood and paint.

“A problem,” Zuko said, and didn’t bother to elaborate.

They would find out. It was better to head it off now. “We think she is the person in charge of
this invasion. She is the leader of the grey and red soldiers.”

“And she told you she wouldn’t harm you?” Smellerbee looked incredulous.

“Er, yeah. We have met her before. She and Aang have fought. We helped her put out the
fires in the lower city. But it should be noted she is as about as trustworthy as a pricklesnake
hiding in your socks.”

Zuko’s brow furrowed and his mouth opened, no doubt to issue a lecture on the trustworthy
merits of pricklesnakes, or how they were allergic to socks or something. Sokka elbowed
him. “Let it rest, Sunshine.”

He did, although he was pouting again.

Their landlord was dead. His body was still in the ruined hallway of his home.

It looked like it had been panicked Earthbenders who had caused the collapse. They had
pulled down some houses to create a blockade and buried those still inside them.
“Let’s find the deeds,” Sokka said, hand covering his face to smother the growing smell of
death. Unfortunately, it was becoming a familiar odour. “Don’t want someone else to have
documents for our home.”

Toph was looking a little pale from the smell too, but she nodded, and together they carefully
picked their way into the interior. The little Earthbender was a reassuring presence, able to
tell him what parts of the structure were safe and what might fall down at any moment.

“Just take it all,” Toph said through gritted teeth, as Sokka riffled through the draws in their
landlord’s office. “Just take everything. We can drop it back later, or lose it or whatever.” She
had her sleeve in front of her face, but she was still going a bit green.

Sokka supposed she had seen and experienced very little death before leaving home. Even
her food had come to her ready butchered and cooked. Unlike Sokka, who had witnessed the
process of the birth of an animal, right the way through its life and death, until it found its
way into his belly.

Even so, however much he told himself that he understood death, hunting and butchering
were a world away from the smell of the ripening corpse of someone he had met and spoken
to.

“Fuck, Toph, let’s get out of here,” he gasped, unable to take it anymore.

“Thank every miserable spirit in existence,” Toph muttered.

When they were back on the street, it was barely any better. The soldiers and the guard were
working with civilians to remove the deceased quickly, trying to get ahead of the possibility
of disease. But there were a lot of dead in the lower ring, and it wasn’t easy or fast.

Toph brushed at her arms with a shiver. “I say we ask Katara to hose us down when we get
back. I want to roll in the dirt to get the stink off me.” Her words were bold, but her usual
brashness was lacking in her body language.

Sokka put an arm around her small shoulders. She didn’t shrug him off.

He decided not to mention the sort of thing that might be floating in their water supply at the
moment.

…………….

The city had fallen. All this effort for nothing. All the sacrifice, for nothing.

Kazuma had told the truth about the ships. They had appeared after the attack, and Hakoda
had been busy on the river. There had been relief in it, finally fighting, and doing so on his
own ground.
Despite that, it had not been an easy victory. His ships were more used to the open sea, and it
was harder to manoeuvre in this environment. The mines had been the only thing that had
given them the advantage.

While they were still holding the river, beyond it, troops had amassed in great numbers, and it
looked like the ships that had not broken through their blockade had disembarked on the side
held by the Fire Nation. They were steadily marching on the city, and there was not much
Hakoda and the Earth army could do about it.

The one upside was Huang and Wei had managed to rescue the refugees, and what was left of
the camp outside the walls was empty.

Of course, that meant their camp was now full to bursting with civilians. They were being
cared for, but they needed feeding. There had to be discipline and order, and the sick needed
to be tended.

And now the coalition forces were now both horribly vulnerable to attack and hampered in
any effort to regain the city.

“This is a disaster,” Wei said, as they met in the command tent. “I would never call it such in
front of the men, but I do not clearly see what our next move should be.”

“We need to retake Ba Sing Se!” Huang said, voice loud and full of fervour. His mission had
been to prevent its capture. That was clearly a failure on an epic scale.

To all intents and purposes, the war was lost. The last stronghold had fallen. Every time he
thought about it, Hakoda’s stomach dropped. But he was also used to insurmountable odds.
Used to desperation. He knew what was important.

“We may have failed to win, or indeed, even to fight this battle. But we have won a victory.
We saved the refugees,” Hakoda said, his voice firm and strong. “The Earth Kingdom isn’t its
cities, or even its king. The Earth Kingdom is its people. You have been resisting for a
hundred years, and it has taken this long for them to achieve this blow. It will take a hundred
more before we even begin to give up.”

Wei nodded, a little life coming back to his dark eyes. “You speak truth, Hakoda. We will not
sit idle. We need to protect the people who wish to stay, make passage for people to leave if
they wish. We must keep them safe.”

Hakoda nodded. “And we need to prepare for anyone escaping Ba Sing Se.” There had been
no civilians leaving since the fall, presumably trapped behind the walls, suffering who knows
what. Hakoda tried not to think about the fact Sokka might be there. If he and Zuli had made
it, clearly it had not been in time to warn the Earth King. Shen and Suki too. He regretted
sending them into what now seemed like certain death.

It was never far from Hakoda’s thoughts, but he had to focus on what could be done now.
“We need to make ourselves as fortified as possible, while also indicating we do not intend to
fight. Perhaps we can deal with them, to avoid being attacked first.”
“Surrender, you mean?” Huang growled. “Not while I have breath in my body.”

“No, no surrender. But if they deem us a threat and attack us now, many of these people will
die. If we explain we have no designs on the city, we just want safe passage for the non-
combatants. They may have a chance.” He stared Huang down. “Whatever we would wish,
our force is not large enough to retake the city.”

“We would be cowards not to try!”

“We would be fools,” Hakoda said. He did understand Huang’s point of view, of course he
did. But it just wasn’t practical. “We save who we can. We get ready to get any escapees
away from here. Start emptying our refugee camp slow and quiet, so when it’s time to fight,
we are not trapped defending civilians.”

Wei nodded again. Hakoda was thankful he at least seemed to have a handle on his emotions
and was able to see more clearly. “First, we need information. We have no idea who is even
in command of the city.”

“It’s that bastard Tsing,” Huang snapped.

“Kazuma said-”

“He was clearly lying!”

Hakoda took a breath, tempers were high. He had to control his own, although he did not
approve of Huang’s rudeness. “Maybe, although he told the truth about the boats. I’m still
puzzled as to why.”

“Indeed,” Wei said. “I was not expecting that to be truth. It seems very odd he would give us
any sort of advantage.” He tapped his fingers on the table with an increasing tempo. “His
refusal to name his commander was equally strange. What would Tsing have to gain in not
telling the world? From what I know of the man, he would be flying his own standard over
the city along with the flame.”

Hakoda narrowed his eyes. These were his thoughts, too. “You think there is some sort of
political struggle going on? Some sort of internal dispute?”

“It’s possible. We just don’t know, and to that end, we need to discover more information.”

“We need to get someone in or out of the city. It won’t be long before people start sending
birds, although if the tactics run true to their previous victories, the ashmaker’s would have
released hawks to try to limit any messenger birds trying to make it out. Some will get
through, though.”

Wei rubbed a hand over his eyes, his exhaustion clear. “But we will have no way of knowing
if that information is true.”

Hakoda’s own weariness was creeping up on him, dulling his thoughts. “We need a man in
there. And we need to know what’s happening across the river.”
Wei stopped tapping and lay his hands flat. “I wonder what the terms would be if Kazuma
treats with us again?” He grimaced. “If I were to guess, it would probably be to release the
river, let the boats through.”

“But he didn’t want the boats to make the city.” Hakoda sighed, scowling at the table in front
of him. “Either way, we can’t trust their word or motives, but at the moment, we are at
something of an impasse. Our blockade is an annoyance, it’s hardly a tactic that will make
any difference in the long run. But if we work carefully to change our circumstances, gain
knowledge, then we might stand a chance later. Negotiations may take some time, especially
if there is some kind of power play happening on their side. If we drag it out as much as
possible, it may gain us enough time to start getting the civilians out anyway, and an
opportunity may present itself to learn more.”

“I do not like this plan,” Huang said, bitterness in every word.

“No, nor do I,” Wei agreed. “And neither does Hakoda nor any other man here. But throwing
ourselves at them and dying is not going to help anyone at all.”

No one could really argue with that.

……………………………….

When the uniforms of the guards changed from green to red, they knew it was over.

It almost came as a relief after nearly two full days with no food or water, while the Earth
Kingdom guards fought, or ran, or died. Shen didn’t think anyone cared that the man who
gave them a bucket and tin cups was an enemy soldier. They just desperately wanted that
water.

Everyone was still suffering from dehydration and a hunger so sharp it gnawed at the bones
when guards came to take them out of their cells. They didn’t explain what was happening,
just herded the prisoners through the dark corridors and out into a big, open cavern. They all
went without complaint and were ordered to sit in rows with their hands on their knees, palm
up.

Then they waited. For hours and hours. Shen was too hungry and thirsty to even be afraid.

After what might have been as long as a day, or just a few agonising hours, guards came
around with a bucket and a ladle, giving each prisoner a drink before moving on.

Shen watched the soldiers travel up the lines of men, the thirst clawing at his throat. It was a
special kind of torture. When the man reached him and ladled water into his mouth, the
respite was brief. It wasn’t enough. Around him, a few men were crying.

He really missed his cell.

The thirst returned worse in the hours, maybe days, they waited. The lack of food and water
lessened the need to use the toilet, but some men still soiled themselves where they sat. The
soldiers made their rounds another two times, many hours apart, before people were finally
ordered out in groups. Shen didn’t know how long it had been, sitting there, legs and back
aching from lack of movement. Days probably. But he wondered if they were now going to
their execution. He wondered if anyone else was kind of looking forward to it.

But they were just led back to their cells. Or what had been their cells. They were now coated
in metal, the floors, the walls. The scent of the soldered panels was still strong, and the feel of
it under their bare feet was cold and stark. Bleak.

At least the floor was clean now, although their meagre straw was gone. There was nothing to
pad the hard surface, and sleeping was going to be even more uncomfortable than it had been
before. The amount of bodies at least kept the room from being too chill.

The guards gave them water more regularly, and some of the edge of desperation left Shen.
But the hunger remained. The small amount of rice they were offered was barely enough to
keep them functional. The days of starvation had caused lethargy among the prisoners, made
it hard to focus.

Presumably the city needed to make sure it could feed the army, perhaps also the remaining
citizens. Starvation of the city would cause more problems than feeding them. Prisoners
would be last on the list for food distribution.

After a few days, more men were brought down and put into cells already overflowing. Some
looked like they had been involved in the fighting. Most looked kind of dazed.

“Does that man look familiar to you?” Chao whispered, pointing at a guy with his hair loose
to his shoulders and a few days’ growth of beard on his cheeks. He looked solidly built, a
soldier.

“Nope,” Shen said. He just looked like every other guy who had been dumped into their cell.

Chao was still staring. Shen nudged him with an elbow. “You want to go talk to him? Might
jog your memory.” And at least it might break the tedium.

Chao shrugged. Shen took that as a yes and picked his way through the sitting and reclining
men to the soldier’s corner. He had a defensible spot, but a cold one. Most people preferred
the warmth to any perceived safety.

“Hi,” Shen said. The soldier glanced at him and nodded, but didn’t invite them to sit. Shen sat
anyway. He was way past manners.

Chao lowered himself down more slowly, eyes running over the other man’s face. “You’re
General How, aren’t you?” Chao asked, thankfully keeping his voice at barely a whisper. “I
know your face, even without the beard.”

That was shocking, if true. No way he would have been just put down here with the rabble.
Perhaps if he had shaved and cut his hair, he was deliberately hiding. A surprising tactic, but
any advantage was worth the shame of deception. Having generals fall into enemy hands
would be a disaster.
“Are you?” Shen asked.

The older man raised his eyes cautiously, but said nothing.

Chao scowled at him. “I petitioned you directly. I spoke to you, tried to warn you about what
was happening, right before I was arrested. I’ve been thinking about you a lot. What I would
say to you given the chance.” He scoffed. “But I suppose your current situation will have to
do for justice.”

“If it’s true, no one will hear it from us,” Shen assured him. “Although I have some choice
words, too. What were you people thinking?”

General How wet his lips. “We… We believed we could control the situation. The Dai Li
insisted on keeping things quiet. To allow our people to live in peace and without fear.”

Shen snorted. “Well done on that score. Good Job.” He signed, aggravated, but also feeling
surprisingly invigorated. “But done is done, I guess. Now we have to find a way to survive it.
Clever idea to hide among the men. You may have fucked up the defence of the city, but I
hope perhaps your knowledge and skills can help us make a plan?”

Chao didn’t look convinced, but really, there was no point in fighting each other. They had a
very clearly defined enemy. And keeping General How alive, getting him out, that could give
Shen purpose again.

General How nodded slowly, a little light coming back into his own gaze. They needed to
keep thinking forward. They all did. “The odds are stacked against us,” he cautioned.

Shen waved a hand. “Out there beyond your walls? They always have been. Fuck the odds.
We fight until we die.” He settled back against the wall. The metal was hard and cold through
his thin shirt. “What happened? We know nothing, aside from the fact the city has fallen.”

General How leaned back as well, relaxing slightly. “They got through the wall with a
machine.”

Shen’s heart squeezed. He knew that would have been the case, but did that mean Sokka and
Zuli hadn’t made it? Or had the King and these dipshits turned them away? Imprisoned them?

“Then, with the walls breached, their general marched into the lower ring and set it ablaze.”

“Not a shocking tactic, that one.”

“No, that was to be expected. What was a surprise was a second division of Fire Nation
soldiers entered after them and began to fight the first. They saved civilians, put out the fires.
It is rumoured that the Fire Lord’s own daughter was at the head of them. An incredibly
powerful bender, she put out the flames herself with only a few soldiers to help.”

Okay, so yeah, that was surprising. And confusing. “What does that even mean?” Shen asked.
“They were fighting each other? Is it a coup?” If it was, why the fuck did they have to fight it
here? Couldn’t they keep their family problems on their own continent?
“Perhaps. It is also rumoured, although I did not see it myself, that the Avatar arrived and
helped the Fire Princess. He saved people. But…” General How rubbed his hands over his
tatty pant legs. “Does that mean the Avatar has chosen the side of the Fire Nation?” he
concluded with obvious reluctance.

Shen drew his knees up a little, curling his arms around them as he thought about it. The
Avatar’s bison was here. It stood to reason the Avatar might be too. He may have been
hunting for his lost beast. “It may look that way. But while I have not met the Avatar, I do
know people who have, not just in passing, but fought with him, spoken to him at length. I do
not think he would join our enemies.” He held How’s gaze. “From what I understand of the
Avatar, he has tried to help people wherever he can. All people. If the Fire Princess was
putting out the flames, then perhaps he was just helping her achieve that goal, rather than any
ideological union between them.”

“I hope that you are right. What is your name? Are you a citizen?”

“Shen. I’m not from the city. I came looking for some missing friends. This is Chao, a farmer
who was imprisoned for daring to speak up about the war that destroyed his livelihood.” He
couldn’t quite keep the bitterness out of his voice.

General How bowed slightly from his seated position. “I am truly sorry. But the past can not
be undone. You are right, Shen, we must keep fighting, think about our path going forward.
Gather information, find any advantage.”

At least they were in agreement on that. They fell silent, each lost in thought.

Ozai’s own blood was here. Shen knew nothing of the Fire Princess. Ozai was short one child
already, did he have more? Or was this the only one he had left? Whether their speculation
was correct and she was opposing her father or if she was being used as a pawn by an
important general or contender for the throne, it raised a lot of questions and concerns.

And his people seemed to have been stuck in the middle of it.

The sudden sound of clanging metal doors followed by voices and booted feet that echoed
strangely in the unnaturally hewn caves made the whole cell fall quiet. Every time guards
entered, the feeling of tension rose to a fever pitch. Was this the time their fate would be
decided?

The voices carried through the long passage, reverberating and reaching like the tendrils of
fear that crept over Shen’s skin.

“I am just saying that it is the lower ring that needs the most supplies. If we wish to keep the
peace.”

Shen’s eyes widened, and he felt a rush of adrenalin that drowned out any reply.

“Shen?” General How asked.”What is it?”

“I think that’s the man who took me to Lao Fort.” He was sure it was Kazuma. Pretty sure,
anyway. He had a distinctive intonation to his voice.

“You were captured? Do we need to hide you?” General How said, already shifting his big
body around.

“No, no. It could be an opportunity, maybe.” Shen pushed himself up a bit. “We built
something of a rapport. At least, I think we did. If nothing else, he might answer some
questions?”

“Go then, if there is no risk.”

Shen wasn’t sure about that, but he got to his feet, wobbly from hunger, and made it to the
bars just as the small group was passing. It was Kazuma, a small hooded figure with him, and
two much taller men. Guards, perhaps.

“Captain Kazuma?” he called.

Kazuma stopped and turned as the others continued on. When he spotted Shen, his eyes went
comically wide for a moment. It was a rare unguarded expression, and it made him look years
younger, like an actual person, rather than an enemy soldier. Then his usual stern
countenance shuttered back down.

“Captain Shen?” He stepped closer. He looked like he was moving a little stiffly, like perhaps
he had been injured in the fighting. Once again, he was not wearing his armour, but he made
sure to keep more than an arm’s length away from the bars. At least Shen had his full
attention. “You seem to be making a habit of imprisonment,” Kazuma said.

“It’s just Shen. I lost my commission.” Even after everything that still hurt like something in
his chest was being ripped out.

“After East Lake?” Kazuma raised a brow, giving him a knowing, slightly rueful look. So he
had heard that Shen had used his name to gain entry to the prison camp.

“Yeah.” Shen couldn’t quite prevent a slight smirk curling his lips. He noted that Kazuma’s
eyes slipped down to his mouth as he did so. Perhaps even in his current state, his seduction
plan could be back on the table. Good to know. And terrifying.

“Why are you in jail?” Kazuma asked, meeting his eyes again. “Were you part of the defence
force?”

“Nope. Just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Ba Sing Se has... had an interesting way of
dealing with difficult citizens.”

Kazuma’s eyebrow went up again. “And that’s what you are? Difficult?”

“Not me, no. I’m a good boy.” He grinned as best he could. “I was arrested because I was in
the same street as someone else who was considered dangerous.” He wasn’t going to mention
that someone was a mythical ten-ton, six-legged, flying beast. “I wasn’t even charged. Most
haven’t been.”
He moved forward, leaning himself against the bars, mostly because his legs were feeling a
bit unsteady. Kazuma didn’t move backwards, but he did wrinkle his nose a little. It had been
some time since they had been given the opportunity to wash. But that was his people’s fault,
and he was just going to have to deal with it.

“Can you tell me anything? Obviously, the city has fallen. What of the Earth King?”

“The Earth King is working with us to maintain peace.”

“Right,” Shen said flatly. Well, that was a crock of shit. “Not to be all self-involved, but
what’s going to happen to us? We’re barely being fed. You can probably smell the last time
we could bathe. The conditions weren’t great before, but we were at least allowed food and a
modicum of dignity. I know it’s asking a bit much of your people to offer any sort of decency,
but I think we would all like to know if we are looking at a long starvation or an execution.”

Kazuma’s gaze moved behind him, to the men cramped miserably into the cell. “I do not
believe there is any call for the execution of these men. And you are correct that these
conditions are... poor.”

“You pride yourself on your upstanding morals,” Shen said, and he thought he had kept the
sneer out of his voice. Kazuma was decent, by Fire Nation standards. At least, what Shen had
seen of him was. “Can you do anything?”

“Kazuma!” A sharp, female voice called from up the corridor.

Kazuma glanced after her, then bowed slightly to Shen. “I will see what can be done. Be
well, Captain Shen.”

“It’s just Shen.”

“Shen.” He turned and swept away, looking every inch imperious, colonising nobility. Prick.

Still, that might have done something. Maybe. But it had also probably opened up certain
questions regarding Shen’s status which might make for an awkward conversation with How.

He pushed back from the bars and rejoined the general. His steps only had a slight stagger by
the time he reached him.

“Captain?” General How asked as soon as Shen was seated. So yeah, they had heard that.

Shen blew out a breath. “Yeah. I was captain of the 54th Company. Under General Huang.
My unit was killed or captured, and I was taken to Lao Fort by Kazuma.” He jerked a thumb
at the bars and the empty space beyond it. “I was rescued.” If they had heard the captain part,
they had probably heard the rest, too. “I then took part in the raid on East Lake. It went
against orders, and I lost my commission when I returned to Huang.”

“After which, you should have been sent back to the ranks. How did you end up here?”

“I rescued Commander Wei. He wanted me to look into something for him, so he let me go.
Although technically I would be classed as a deserter, I’m loyal to our people. I’ve known
nothing but the army. All I want is to do my part.” Fuck, he was hungry. And tired, and sick
of the dark.

General How nodded. It was hard to say what he thought. But there really was no way to
punish him for desertion in here. They were already in jail.

“I guess we will have to see if that conversation took root,” Shen said to fill the silence.

“You seemed very familiar with him.”

“He was open to discussion on the way to Lao Fort. I thought if I could build a connection
with him, I could make him drop his guard, or go easy on me, I guess.”

How rubbed his bound hands over his chin. He looked a little disgruntled at the motion, still
unused to his clean-shaven face. “What did you discuss?”

“We argued about morality.” Shen still thought about that sometimes. About how
uncomfortable it had made him. Especially now, without orders easing the uncertainty. Now
there was no one to tell him what to do or how to do it. He wasn’t sure he liked it.

He had been a child, and then he had been in the army. There was nothing else. No future. No
self outside of it. The idea still terrified him. He’d had a purpose coming to Ba Sing Se.
Looking after Suki, finding Zuli and Sokka. That task had kept him from thinking too much
about the other stuff. But the past weeks of being trapped here had turned something in his
brain to spiders, crawling around the inside of his skull. He didn’t feel right.

But Kazuma being here? The vaguest possibility of escape? It made his heart pound with
something other than anxiety.

“What conclusions did you draw about him?” How asked.

“He doesn’t like his commander, General Tsing. And he’s unhappy when his orders go
against his own sense of morality.” Not that it stopped him from carrying them out. “He is a
reasonable man, for a firebender.”

How sneered. “Firebenders look down even on their own non-bending countrymen. I don’t
expect much pity. And if Tsing is here, things will also not go well for us. He is not known
for his compassion.”

Shen didn’t expect much either, but he remembered the splints and the privacy sheet. Of
course, that was before Shen had broken out and taken Kazuma prisoner, then blown up his
fortress. So he might actually be more likely to send down the questioners out of spite.

Still. They had nothing else to do but hope.

When Kazuma and his entourage returned the way they came, they didn’t even glance at the
cell. So Shen, like the rest of the men, resumed sitting in the dim light, quiet and full of
dread.
But some time later, guards appeared with food and water, and even started taking men to
wash. Their cells were rinsed down, and fresh straw was laid.

The food was just rice and preserved vegetables, but it was the best thing Shen had ever
eaten.

“You said you built a rapport. It must have been quite the conversation, Shen,” General How
said dryly, eyeing him with a curious expression.

Shen had been revelling in the feel of clean skin and a full belly, but now he felt a little
uncomfortable. Sharing his thoughts could put him in an awkward or dangerous position, but
what else was there to do? “I mean, yeah. The conversation made him do some thinking. And
also maybe gave him a bit of camaraderie when it came to struggling under orders. This was
just after I lost my unit because of someone else’s shit plan, so I was pretty pissed off with
everything.” He grimaced. “But when it boils down to it, I think the reason for his interest
then and continued engagement now is because he wants to fuck me,” he finished bluntly. No
point sugar coating it.

General How pursed his lips, watching Shen carefully for an uncomfortably long time. “You
were planning to exploit this?”

“Yeah. Never got the opportunity. But…” he spread his hands a little helplessly. His
fingernails were disgustingly dirty. He hated this.

“It could turn nasty for you fast,” How said at last. “If you step out of line, if you change
your mind...” He shook his head. “These people are animals. Unable to control their base
instincts.”

Personally, Shen thought they could control them plenty, they just didn’t want to. He couldn’t
shake the image of Zuli’s battered body. The burns.

He shuddered and General How watched him with concern and what looked uncomfortably
like sympathy.

Shen straightened his spine a little. “Yeah, yeah, I know. But it’s the only chink in the armour
I’ve seen so far. If I can get out of my cell, even for a little while, I’m sure I could learn
something. Find something, anything, to get us out of here. Maybe I could take him down
and steal his keys, his uniform.” Although he doubted he would fit in it, even with the weight
loss, he was rather more broad across the shoulders and had a fair bit of height on the other
man.

How shook his head again. “He’s a firebender. It is unlikely you would be able to overpower
him without the element of surprise.”

Shen rubbed at his face. “It’s the only thing I can think of,” he admitted, tired to his bones.
General How was a commander, one of the most important men in the Earth Kingdom.
Maybe he could come up with something more sensible. Maybe he could just take charge and
tell Shen what he was supposed to do to fix things.
“You’re sure of his interest?”

“Pretty sure, yeah. Or before, anyway. Being unshaven, starving and stinky probably isn’t
helping my case.”

Suki’s teasing aside, the face Kazuma had made when Shen had approached him through the
bars at Lao Fort had been extremely funny. And he did still think about it occasionally when
he needed to cheer himself up. Yeah, he was pretty sure of his interest. He was far less sure
the man would actually take the bait; it being immoral, in the Fire Nation or some such
nonsense.

How reached out and lay a hand on his arm. “Listen, this is not something I will ask you to
do, or judge you for not doing. We can find another way.”

That was almost frustrating; if he was ordered to do it, it would make it easier. And Shen was
embarrassed that the general might have seen some of his fear on his face. He steadied
himself. “It’s okay. I’ve done it before. Not with a firebender. But something similar.”

“He is a firebender, though. That means no matter your strength, he could kill you without
even breaking a sweat.”

Shen shuddered. His skin crawled at the thought of it. Of burning. The smell. The fear.
Knowing someone had that power over you, that they could just snuff you out on a whim
with no effort at all. It was not pleasant.

Zuli had helped a little with the fear. He seemed to have very good control of his bending and
Shen had been able to have him close, even shared a bed with him without too much anxiety.
He had, in fact, been very pleasantly warm. Even if he had been a little small to be a good
blanket. The thought almost made him smile.

But that situation was a world away from this one. He would be putting himself in a very
vulnerable position. There was no way he wouldn’t feel terrified. It was lucky he probably
wouldn’t have to do much more than just take it. He didn’t think he would be able to get hard
in that situation.

The thought made him think of Sokka, and their discussion. The memory evaporated his brief
moment of Zuli related nostalgia and made him feel even more miserable.

“I will do what I have to. Whatever I can. But I have to make him take the bait first.”

General How fondled some of the fresh straw on the cold metal floor. “I think he will be
back.”

“Yeah, me too.”

He wasn’t looking forward to it.

……………..
Hua rubbed her fingers over the paper in her hands. It still smelt like soot, the destruction of
her family.

She had returned to her burnt out home in the darkest hours of the night. Again and again,
looking for anything that might help her. She knew her mother had been a spy, and she knew
she’d had more than one mistress. It was Ursa, not Azula, she had been dedicated to. There
had to be something that could help Fire Lady Mai.

Eventually, she found it. But it hadn’t made her feel any better. Because of the risks, and
more importantly, because she had not informed Azula. She felt like her own loyalties were
being tested, and she didn’t like how that made something in her stomach squirm. She owed
everything to Princess Azula. But spending time with the Fire Lady, seeing her quiet
determination and silent misery was… moving.

And Hua knew Azula could be a threat to Mai. Knew that one step outside what Azula
wanted could mean Hua’s instructions would not be just to spy on the Fire Lady, but to be rid
of her.

Coupled with the fear of those potential orders were her own plans and needs. A point had
now been reached where her own desires were not entirely aligned with the princess’. She
was here with Fire Lady Mai, but the man she had sworn to kill was gone from the capital. It
might be months, years before he returned. And she would kill Zhao. That superseded any
other loyalty.

But if she left, she probably wouldn’t make it out of the city before Azula’s other spies
tracked her down. She would have to disappear if she wanted to follow Zhao to Ba Sing Se.

She remembered feigning sleep, listening to her mother talking about making people vanish.
There had to have been something her mother knew that could help her. But now… now she
felt conflicted. She wasn’t sure she could leave the Fire Lady alone with the wolves.

Building trust with Lady Mai had been difficult. She didn’t talk about her situation. She
didn’t talk about the duties she had to fulfil. She just returned to her rooms and bathed. Then,
when it was required, she dressed herself in finery and stood by her husband’s side. The
perfect, meek wife.

But she wasn’t meek. Hua could see it in her eyes. The steel.

Like with Azula, Hua passed on all palace gossip. It helped the Fire Lady navigate who best
to lend an ear to, who might be trying to curry favour or plotting, and which relationships to
cultivate. She was the picture of innocence. Too young and too shy to really understand
politics. People were desperate to manipulate her for their own ends.

They were not going to succeed. Not even Azula, Hua thought.
But Hua’s dedication to passing on information was helping her become closer to the Fire
Lady. And also, testing her allegiances. Stretching them to a place where they began to feel
uncomfortable.

“I’m loyal to you, Your Highness.”

The Fire Lady made a soft noise, almost a scoff. “You’re loyal to Azula. It can’t be both. I’m
a threat to her by my very existence. Every night that passes, the possibility gets closer.”

A child, she meant. If she became pregnant, Azula would have her killed. There was no point
in pretending otherwise.

Hua fiddled with the hem of her robe. “Both my parents were Ursa’s spies. They were loyal
to her, not the Fire Lord.”

“And so you are loyal to Azula? Who works for the Fire Lord?” Mai finally turned from the
window, catching Hua’s gaze and holding it.

Hua’s stomach swooped, and she felt a bit sick, but somewhere in this conversation she had
become committed. “There are avenues I can look into for you,” she said softly. “Maybe you
can get out, if you want.” And herself. Maybe she could justify it, if she took Mai with her.

“Get out?” Mai said, no change in her expression. It was treason to even say it, and Hua
knew she was risking everything. But it was what her mother would have done. She took
comfort in that.

Hua took some deep breaths and took out the single scrap of paper she had brought from her
hiding place. “Ursa, and by extension, my mother had other connections. One even my father
didn’t know, I think.”

She held out the paper. On it was a simple drawing of a flower in delicate brush strokes. Her
mother’s hand. “There is an underground network that helps people who are... in trouble.
This is their emblem.”

Mai looked at the paper between them for a moment before taking it. She examined it
carefully. “Fuzi, Daughter Root. Commonly known as Sageshood,” she said at last. “This is
used to make a poison. I used to use it to coat my knives.”

Hua nodded. “From what I understand from my… research, they run an underground
network. Getting people out of the city. Out of the Fire Nation. Maybe I can use my mother’s
information to make contact.”

“They won’t trust you.”

“I can try. They might also still be loyal to Ursa.”

“Ursa is dead,” Mai said flatly.

“Her legacy is not.”

Mai handed back the paper, but her expression was intent, more alive than Hua had ever seen
her. “Ursa was the daughter of a herbalist. Did she run this network?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps.”

Mai considered quietly for a moment. “This group works against my husband. They could be
a risk to him. It is my duty as a loyal wife to discover the truth. If it’s just some bored
noblewomen playing games, I wouldn’t want him to be distracted from his important duties
to our people.”

She turned back to the window, looking over the city below. “Therefore, I think you should
continue to investigate it. See if there is any truth there. Perhaps make contact if you can. If
the threat has merit, I will report it to my husband. As my duty requires.”

Hua had a feeling that, given the chance, Fire Lady Mai might be formidable indeed.

It had taken time, but she had made contact. And now she was due to meet someone from the
group for the first time. It was nerve-racking. She had discovered a surprising talent for
spying, and she thought her mother would be proud. But she still felt anxiety that almost took
her to her knees every time she thought about it.

The meeting place was a nondescript fabric shop, not popular, but fairly cheap. Hua rubbed
her fingers across a swath of bright cloth, barely feeling it as her heart pounded. She needed
to do this. For herself, as well as for Lady Mai. And maybe for her mother too. This was her
legacy, not just Ursa’s.

Hua’s hands were shaking as they ran over the textured weaving. All the justification in the
world didn’t make her feel any better.

There was one other woman in the shop, looking at some purple silks. She was older than
Hua, but still young. Tall and elegant. She made Hua feel very small and plain.

“It’s a bright day,” the woman said to her with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “It
makes the crops grow strong.”

Hua couldn’t quite force herself to smile back. “It makes the flowers bloom,” she said,
reciting the words carefully.

The woman’s smile turned a little softer. “So, you are Jiang’s daughter?”

“Yes.”

The woman nodded. “I am sorry for your loss.”

Hua’s heart squeezed tight and her vision went slightly yellow at the edges. She heaved in a
breath, then another. “She is dead, then?” Hua managed. She had known it, deep down, but to
hear it confirmed felt like a lead weight of grief descending on her all at once.
“I’m sorry. She was a good person, and she sacrificed much.” The woman tilted her head up
so her features caught in the small sliver of sunlight from the open window, making her skin
almost glow.

“It’s not fair,” Hua said.

Her feelings were churning, rolling in her gut. This was Zhao’s doing. And behind him, Ozai.
She had the sudden treasonous desire to stab the man in the face. “I want them to pay,” she
said, and she barely recognised her own voice when she spoke. “Everyone that caused this.”

The woman nodded. “But you can’t. You must do nothing. We are not here for revenge for
the dead. Only help for the living. Do you wish to get out of the city?”

“No, well, yes, but not only for me.”

The woman looked at her, her face firm. “My information indicates you belong to Princess
Azula.”

Hua nodded. “I do. And to Fire Lady Mai.” She met the woman’s eyes and let that convey
what she meant. Or, at least, she hoped it did.

The woman was still for a moment. “I see.”

“I will protect her,” Hua said, keeping her voice low. “What should I do?”

“Nothing. Not yet. This will take time. You carry on as normal. Someone will be in touch.”

She turned to leave, but Hua reached out and caught one of her long flowing sleeves. “Do
you have a name I can call you by?”

The woman looked down at her, face showing a hint of warmth. “Xin Yan.”

….............................

As strange as it was, life went on.

That was the most shocking part of the aftermath of the fall of the city for Katara. Everything
had changed, people had suffered unimaginable losses. But they kept going. Not always as
individuals, but as a whole. Trade started up. The black market flourished within days, with
food and the dubious promise of passage out of the city being the most frequently offered
items.

After the grim retrieval and disposal of bodies was done, people began organising aid, food
and shelter, they began rebuilding.
It quickly became apparent that the fires in the fields had been a controlled burn. Enough to
spread fear, but leaving most of the crops intact. That was a sensible tactic, ensuring the
invaders were in charge of feeding the city, plus their own army. It was going to be tight, and
people would be hungry, but there would not be a famine. As long as folk stuck to their
rations, they would survive.

It was two days after Azula had taken charge of the lower ring before Jet appeared. He was
filthy, he stank and looked more exhausted than she had ever seen him, but he was alive.
Katara had begun to suspect he had been killed, and she was surprised to find herself relieved
that he was still in one piece.

“Where have you been?” she asked. All three of his Freedom Fighters had braved the smell
and were hugging him. She held back. She wasn’t that relieved. “I’m going to have to wash
you all down.” She wrinkled her nose at them and tried not to gag. “Out the back. Now.”

Jet steered his gang through the back door. His steps slow and ponderous. “Sewers. Had a
bunch of kids down there. The ones from Wang’s. Others.” He looked… shifty. But maybe
that was just exhaustion. Or perhaps it was only the exhaustion that was allowing her to see
it.

She nodded and got to work.

After he was clean, and still being hugged by his friends, he looked as shocked and horrified
as the rest of them. Like he had nowhere to go but deep into his own mind. His own memory.
It didn’t look like a fun place to be.

She decided she would question him later. There was already enough on everyone’s plate.
Aang was miserable. Toph was too, although she was busy with her construction work, and
that seemed to be providing her with relief. The Freedom Fighters had relaxed now Jet was
back. All but Tu. He still seemed like he was too shocked to function. Jet was taking care of
him, though, giving himself something to take his mind off the reality of the situation.

Sokka and Zuko… were more concerning. Zuko was heading out at all hours, making Sokka
anxious and upset. Katara thought he might be looking for Iroh, or at least attempting to get
into the upper rings to check things out. Something she wished she could help with. But it
wasn’t safe right now. She trusted Iroh, but not Azula. If she was keeping him somewhere,
holding him against his will, then she would attack them if she thought they were getting
close. And if she did so now, she would win.

On top of those worries, both of the boys were avoiding the Freedom Fighters like they had
the plague. It wasn’t Jet, because she had found him talking to Zuko on several occasions,
and they had gone out into the city together to scout a couple of times.

Katara thought it was Tu. It started after the conversation with Azula. No one had been very
forthcoming about what they had discussed prior to Katara’s arrival on the roof, although it
was clear Azula had threatened Tu in some way. Had implied a threat to his sister. That was
the only part she had heard. She wasn’t sure how the rest fit in or why the boys were so
uncomfortable with him now. Any effort she had made to speak to them about it had been
rebuffed. So, she supposed she would have to wait and see. Not something she enjoyed. Or
was very good at.

On the third day after the fall, the Fire Nation dropped leaflets. Printed pamphlets of rules.
Details of the curfew. Where to pick up your household rations. Apparently you would only
be given food rations if you took part in a census.

There was furious debate in the household over how sensible it might be to undertake it.

By the fourth day they had still not come to a conclusion, when soldiers came to the door and
told them to take part, or their home would be requisitioned and given to citizens who
followed the rules.

After further intense and very loud discussion, it was decided that to avoid notice, and to
keep their home, they should go. Give fake names, play the part of obedient citizens.

This had seemed to Katara like the best way forward, but they were not even out the door and
it was already looking like chaos and disaster. Aang wanted to wear his favourite hat. It was a
colourful affair, with a number of feathers and a dried flower stuck in it. The flower was
missing quite a few petals, but it was still making a valiant effort to remain in a mostly
upright position. It was bright, and it made people smile. But subtle, it was not.

Jet flat out refused to come, although Katara had persuaded the other Freedom Fighters that
going would lessen the likelihood of Jet’s absence being noticed. There were a lot of kids in
the house. Easy to miss one.

The lines for the census were long, and the day was warm. There were still too many flies
doing their business in the lower ring, and the sound of them was disquieting.

Everyone in the queue was grumpy and unhappy and angry at being there at all. Most people,
while surly, were behaving. A few fights, and one violent assault on soldiers had been the
only disruption and that had been dealt with swiftly and brutally.

The man who motioned them forward to take their details looked like he wished he was
anywhere else. Even on the front lines being smacked by rocks.

“Name?” he asked, dispassionate.

“Smellerbee and Longshot,” Smellerbee said.

“Smellerbee... and Longshot?” The soldier repeated doubtfully. “These are the names your
mothers gave you?”

“Don’t know,” Smellerbee said, eyes narrow above her face paint. “You burnt her alive, so I
never got the chance to ask.”

To give the soldier credit, he did look a little uncomfortable. “Employment?”

“Thief,” Smellerbee said.

Behind them, someone started to snicker.

“Don’t play games with me, boy.” The soldier lay down his brush and glared.

“I’m a girl.”

The soldier looked uncomfortable again. “I’ll put down unemployed,” he muttered, gesturing
her onwards. The sun was bright on the metal accents of his uniform. It made the warmth of
the day feel almost threatening.

Sokka stepped up next. “I’m Rocky, son of Boulder,” he said. Beside him, Zuko made a
groaning noise. Sokka ignored him and elbowed Katara hard in the ribs. “This is my sister.”

She should have given thought to this earlier. “Um… Pebbles Boulder?” she tried.

Sokka gave her a look. Like Rocky was any better.

The soldier gave her a long look, too, but he didn’t object. Their age probably helped there.
“Employment?”

“The docks,” Sokka said. “Although you set fire to it, so I guess unemployed now.”

The guard sighed and waved them on. “Next?”

Zuko stepped forward, stiff legged and aggressive. His large hat, while not as exciting as
Aang’s, was tilting precariously. “Li,” he said.

“Just Li?”

“Li…” Zuko shifted a little, losing the aggression and looking very awkward instead. “Li son
of... Boulder son of Cliff son of... Li.” A bumpy start, but he had finished decisively at least.
He looked pleased with himself.

Katara fought the urge to laugh. Truth be told, despite the worry, she was spitefully enjoying
the guard’s increasing despair.

The man flicked his golden-brown gaze between her, Sokka and Zuko.

“No relation,” Sokka said cheerfully.

“Worked at the docks. You set it on fire,” Zuko added in the same flat voice. His posture had
gone back to threatening.

Again, the guard looked aggravated, before sighing and giving up. Cleary, he wanted to be
here as little as everyone else and the sooner he got through the line, the sooner he could
leave.

“I’m Bonzu Pipinpadaloxicopolis the Third!” Aang said in his perkiest voice. Katara thought
she could see malice in his eyes, though. He was also enjoying the census man’s suffering.
“Toph,” Toph said, not waiting for Aang to attempt his employment.

Aang scowled at her. “I worked at the zoo!” he said loudly. The hat wobbled, and a dried
petal broke loose and landed on the soldier’s desk.

“Can we go?” Zuko asked. They had clearly failed at not sticking out, although it didn’t seem
to really matter.

“Yes. Just go, all of you,” the soldier said.

“Toph Boulder,” Toph added, as Katara grabbed her arm and began pulling her away.

The family waiting behind them stepped forward. They were all grinning. “Ho Boulder.”
Katara heard the man say as he stepped up to the desk. The Soldier put his brush down and
looked up towards the sun as if in prayer.

“Resistance comes in many forms,” Sokka said sagely, as he slung an arm around Zuko’s
shoulders. “And we shall try them all.”

“I was also thinking arson,” Zuko said as they began the trek back to the house.

“Yes, yes, arson is a good option, too. But not just yet. We need a plan first.”

“A boring plan, no doubt.”

Katara left them to bicker. She was feeling a little lighter. That experience had been strangely
fun. The soldier had been grumpy, but not cruel, or threatening, or any different from the
many Earth Kingdom officials they had interacted with since coming here. She wasn’t sure
what she thought about that.

Also, she kind of agreed with Zuko. Annoying the authorities, and taking up valuable time
was a form of opposition, but she would really prefer the arson.

They needed organised resistance. The people of Ba Sing Se needed to feel they had a chance
to fight back, even in small ways. Sokka was making plans, Zuko was making plans... and
Sokka was trying very hard to contain them and prevent him from running off and attempting
to rescue the Earth King, presumably just to annoy his sister.

So there was action being prepared. It just wasn’t quite what Katara wanted. Unfortunately,
the person most suited for the kind of resistance fighting she was considering was Jet.

He was waiting for them when they arrived back, wound up, almost vibrating with fury.

“I won’t fucking do it!”

“Do what?” Sokka said, scowling across the floor at him.

“Work for them.”

Oh, that. Katara had been wondering how he would react to that. Stupidly, she had (correctly)
guessed.

The guard had begun work again. Although they now had red bands wrapped around the tops
of their arms and every patrol was accompanied by at least one Fire Nation officer. But the
main structure and purpose of them remained the same. They were there to protect civilians
from the threat of other civilians, sort out disputes, and keep order.

This was horrifying to Jet. Understandably so, but he was so angry he was missing the
possibilities it presented.

“I’m not doing it. I won’t work for those ashmaker bastards.”

He looked beyond reason, but Katara decided to try anyway.

“This is an opportunity, Jet. You get to see how they run, you get to visit with citizens that
need help, you will see the edges of any counteraction being set up.” She pointed a finger at
him. “You can learn things we can’t. You will be able to see where we should start applying
pressure to make the changes we need.” Katara realised she was breathing hard, the feel of
her own passion was clawing at her throat.

Jet breathed out, too, long and hard, visibly trying to control himself. “If you’re so keen,
there’s a job opening at the guardhouse. The woman that worked there? The one who gave us
soup the first day? She was murdered in her house. Job’s up for grabs.” He said that last part
with violence.

“No,” Sokka said loud and strong. He had remained quiet, watching carefully as they argued,
but he was on his feet now.

She put a fist on her hips, aware she was mimicking Gran Gran’s telling off pose. “You have
no right to tell me what I can and can’t do, Sokka. You can say you don’t want me to, but you
can’t tell me no.” She thought that was very reasonable.

Sokka, however, didn’t seem overly interested in reasonable. “Yes, I can! The last woman
that worked there was killed!”

“And so were our neighbours, and plenty of men. She wasn’t even killed in the guardhouse.”
Katara pointed at Jet with an angry finger. “He said she died at home. And I am not staying
here and doing nothing.”

“I didn’t say you had to! I just don’t like the idea of you working in a place with them.”

“You can’t stop me.”

“Li, you tell her,” Sokka said, turning to Zuko.

“She’s right,” Zuko said. “You can’t tell her what to do. Or you can, but she could beat you in
a fight.”
That was… nice of him. Also true, although he had kind of missed the point a little. She and
Sokka may argue, but it was not going to be a physical fight. Also, he was going to get yelled
at a lot later for voicing that opinion, and Katara was already tired of all the moping that
would inevitably follow.

Sokka stared at him, face pinched and genuine fury in his eyes. “Do you understand the kind
of risk we are talking about? A young girl working with the enemy army? Do you get that?
You fucking idiot,” Sokka said.

And Katara may have underestimated both the level of his anger and his very specific
concerns.

“You still don’t get to make that decision, though.” Zuko said. He was also watching Sokka
with what seemed to be considerable caution. Her brother’s body was shaking, his hands
clenched into fists.

“Okay,” Katara said, stepping between them before something bad happened. “Okay. This is
not helping. I stand by what I said, but we can talk about it. Okay, Sokka? I won’t do
anything until we discuss it.”

And she would listen, and she would think of ways to mitigate his concerns and the risks.
And then she would do it.

Sokka looked like he was struggling to pull himself together, but when Zuko lay a hand on
his arm, he shook him away. “Fuck off, I don’t want to look at you,” Sokka snarled. Zuko
blanched, but said nothing.

“Sokka, stop it,” she said, stepping between them again. He shifted away from her almost
violently and for one frightening moment, she thought he was going to strike her. But he
didn’t, just drew in a gasping breath. He looked… distraught. And it hurt something in her
chest. It made those feelings of loss that never seemed to leave her bubble up like bile.

He made a noise in his throat and spun around, fleeing up the stairs to his room.

Katara found she was shaking. That had been shocking.

“Li?” Jet asked, leaning forward with a look of concern on his face that Katara wanted to
kick clean off. “He’ll calm down. It’s the stress of the past few days. But our door is always
open if you need to sleep elsewhere tonight.”

Kicking wasn’t good enough for him, she wanted to pummel him. And a stressed and
miserable Zuko sleeping in the same room as Jet was a catastrophically bad idea on a number
of levels.

“Our door is open too,” she said.

“Forget it.” Zuko stood, stiff and shuttered in his face and movements. “I’m going out. I’m
going to…” He paused and broke off. “I’m going out.”

“Li!” Katara called after him. But he strode through the door without looking back.
She was torn for a moment. Continue what needed to be done, find Zuko, or help her brother
through his anger. She didn’t judge Sokka for it. Although she had no plans to capitulate, she
did understand where he was coming from.

“Hmm,” Jet was watching the door that Zuko had just dramatically departed through. There
was a speculative, slightly predatory expression on his face.

It was obvious what he was thinking; that there might be an opportunity now the boys were
on the outs again. He was wrong, though, and Katara was only mildly concerned there might
be a blood bath while they sorted themselves out. Zuko only had eyes for Sokka. That was a
simple fact and Jet could manipulate and scheme and plot all he wanted. It was pointless.

And that was really rather satisfying.

She poked Jet in the head, drawing his attention back to her with an affronted scowl.

“Leave the idiots to their squabbles. We have to look at the bigger picture. If you go back to
work, I will too. I’ll convince Sokka.” She sat down, leaning forward, drawing him in. “We
need to build something with the people, quietly until we are ready, and then we need to find
a way to take back the city. To free the Earth King.”

“The Earth King sat back and did nothing,” Jet said with a sneer. The fire was still in his
eyes, but banked, a little more controlled. “He’s useless.”

“It doesn’t matter. He just needs to be there. Like the Avatar, the idea of him is almost
enough by itself to inspire people. They would have hope if he was free.”

Jet considered quietly. Then he leant forward, rubbing his hands over his face. He looked
tired in a way she had not seen him before. Or that he had not allowed her to see. “You’re
right, of course. And I agree.” His brow was furrowed in thought. “What we need is to
prepare for resistance. How to get people in or out, how to get folk willing and ready to cause
trouble. The enemy controls the food, so they control the people. Take a little of that back,
and we start to have options.”

She nodded. Katara knew he would be good at this. The trick was going to be stopping him
taking it too far.

She wasn’t the only one following that train of thought. “We avoid killing them.” Aang
finally spoke up from where he was sitting, his arms curled around his knees. “The soldiers.”

“If they wanted to avoid being killed, they shouldn’t have taken our city.”

Katara didn’t think they really had a choice. “That’s true, but Aang is right. Killing will only
spark off retaliation. We want to be in a position where we can fight when we are ready, not
have them come down on us and hamper our efforts.”

Jet made a face, but he nodded. Score one for Team Avatar. “And we look for a way to free
the Earth King,” he said reluctantly. “Get him out of the city. I’m sure someone will be happy
to set him up as a puppet king.”
 “But that’s fine, as long as he gives people what they need. What we need.”

“Hope and a reason to keep fighting,” Jet finished.

Katara smiled at him. Aang did too, but with a slight undercurrent of trepidation.

Jet was going to need very careful monitoring.

But first, she was going to have to go and have another very long and uncomfortable
conversation with her brother.

Chapter End Notes

Some amazing art to share!

Azula having her girlboss moment by smallsinger5901

Here

Aang and Momo reunion! By Wylinka

Here

If I have missed any one please let me know and send me a link and I will add you in!

Next chapter: Everyone takes a little break from the trauma of war to have some intense
relationship drama.

Oh, and Zhao arrives.

 Chapter 40
Chapter Summary

Sokka was not having the best day. Week. Year.

Chapter Notes

Thank you all for the amazing comments and kudos! I cant believe it’s chapter 40. I feel
like its a milestone.

Warnings chapter 40

A bunch of not particularly explicit sex related warnings – including, thoughts, kissing,
masturbation, and misc fooling around. Vague references to non-con and CSA.
Internalised homophobia. Also had to update the tags a little

Sorry if I answered comments weird and asks late – I am sick and pathetic today (Just a
cold, but I’m mad about it) For unanswered ask-game asks, give me a week and I will
see if I can do them for the next chapter (only one POV written tho!)

Many thanks to my beta burkesl17, who has managed to wrangle my dyslexic nonsense
(at 4am, due to jet lag). All mistakes are my own.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Chief Hakoda had done damage to the fleet, which had been aggravating and embarrassing. It
could have been a lot worse, though, as the Water Tribe boats were not as nimble on the river
as they were on the ocean. Even so, Zhao’s plan to sail through the port gates of Ba Sing Se
and disembark in a grand procession had been hampered by Hakoda’s infernal little ships. It
shouldn’t be so hard to defeat wooden vessels and primitive fighters, and yet, embarrassingly,
here they were, having to walk into the city like infantry. It made his blood boil.

He appeased himself somewhat by remembering the smell of Hakoda’s son’s skin burning.
The sound of his pathetic screams. The father might have been a warrior worth having
concerns about, but the son had been lacking.

Zhao refused to be impressed with the city itself, but he had to admit it was a truly huge
place. Although it currently smelt like old corpses, some work and clearing out the Earth
peasants would transform it into a shining jewel in Ozai’s crown.

The reports he had been hearing of the fall were…confusing. Concerning. Azula had taken
the city her uncle had spent six-hundred days besieging in less than a handful. And rumour
was, she had done it using subterfuge of some sort. Ozai might not approve, even if she had
been successful. Zhao hoped the girl was treading carefully.

Although the Fire Lord had chosen a different match for her, it wasn’t impossible that Zhao
might still win the day. He had rather been hoping that Kazuma would have killed Jianjun,
but knowing what he did now, that was unlikely. He didn’t know what game Kazuma was
playing, but he doubted the man had ever thought the brat was the Blue Spirit.

But what if he had discovered his true identity? Even if he suspected it could be a disaster.

Zhao shuddered. Kazuma had to die, and quickly.

But it was not going to be easy. It appeared that he now had Azula’s patronage. That meant
Zhao couldn’t get rid of him just out of hand. Anything Kazuma did that was out of line,
Azula could claim as her own, so challenging him could be... risky. He could try to goad him
into an Agni Kai, but he suspected the man was too canny for that. So, Zhao needed
something that could take him out of Azula’s favour. Then he would be fair game. She might
even thank him.

With that worry out the way, he could focus on the far bigger threat of Zuko.

Ash and Bone, he should have killed the boy when he’d had the chance. His Intel said the
brat had been heading here, and Zhao had no doubt the tenacious little cur had made it. The
Avatar too. There were rumours that he and Azula had joined forces during the battle. But he
wouldn’t trust those without more evidence.

Zuko and the Avatar in the same place.

He indulged in a brief fantasy of killing Zuko slowly and then returning home victorious with
the Avatar in chains. Ozai would be so pleased, he would put aside that little turd Jianjun and
his pompous father, and grant Zhao Azula’s hand. They would rise in power-

“Admiral?”

“Yes?” Zhao snapped, irritated at having to come back to reality, a place where the possibility
of Azula finding out from the Avatar that her brother lived was a real threat.

Hisao bowed a little in apology. “You asked for our spies to report back before we entered the
city,” he said diffidently.

Zhao glanced up at the huge towering walls, shining slightly in the last rays of sun as it sank
to the horizon. The enormous hole that had been bored into the side had been repaired by
earthbenders, and the drill was no doubt safe behind them. Just in case the rabble up by the
forest decided to act rather than sit and twiddle their thumbs.

Hisao remained quiet. “And?” Zhao asked in irritation.

“Azula’s council consists of her tutor - a Fire Sage named Mushi, Lord Jianjun, Captain
Kazuma, and his woman.” It was hardly anything to write home about.

“Hmm. Do you think she can be turned, the woman?”

“It’s worth investigating,” Hisao said, his expression shifting slightly into something
doubtful. “But I wouldn’t count on it. They have been together for many years.”

“Are they lovers?”

“I don’t believe they are,” Hisao said, his face serious. “They appear to be close companions,
however, and I doubt she can be bought.”

“See if she has family. There are other methods to get people to do as you wish.”

“Yes, Admiral.”

Ro had suspected Kazuma’s interests didn’t lie with women. If true, that could be an avenue
worth exploring. Although from his investigations, they had found no evidence of Kazuma
taking lovers of either gender, or visiting any prostitute other than Xin Yan. Still, they
wouldn’t need a real lover, just someone willing to stand up in court and lie. It was an option.

“Forget Kazuma for a moment. We must begin our other task.”

It was going to be a difficult one, but they had to go slow and steady. Being discovered would
be the end of him. The city was bigger than he had expected. It was going to be very hard to
find one boy in this mass of people. Even one as… distinctive looking as Zuko. But they
were going to have to. “We must be cautious. We don’t want anyone to get wind of our
interest,” Zhao said. Spirits, he didn’t want Azula to get even a sniff of it.

“Zhiming reported the boy had joined the Avatar. Perhaps if we follow rumours of him, we
will find our target.”

“Good thinking.” Zhao nodded. It was what he was planning to suggest himself. “That is no
doubt where the little traitor will be. I must leave this to you. Do not let me down, Hisao.”

His man bowed deep. “Yes, Admiral. I will not let you down.”

He better not, or Zhao would not be the only one to lose his head.

………………

Jet’s world was in tatters again.

This was supposed to be a fresh start. And instead, he was working for the Fire Nation. And
helping people with Fire blood in their veins. He could just about justify that when it came to
the kids, considering what had been done to them by his people.

But the other thing?

Wrapping the red armband around his bicep had made his vision fade out with horrified
choked emotion. If Katara hadn’t been there, he might have lost it entirely.

But she had been there, and she had placed a hand on his shoulder and given him a steady
look that had conveyed everything it needed to: strength, righteous anger, reassurance they
were doing the right thing.

Despite the... animosity she clearly felt, she did seem to understand him on some level. There
was something between them that clicked. It was like there was a part of her that longed to
act with the same violence that lived in him.

He had really fucked up there. Even more than Li, Katara could have been something in the
Freedom Fighters. But, then again, perhaps not. Even with the violence inside her and the
burning desire for justice and retribution, she would always hold herself back. Too kind. Too
compassionate. He hoped it didn’t get her killed. He hoped he didn’t get her killed.

Commander Kang was missing the ends of his moustache and his face was covered in small
speckled burns, probably sparks or embers. Jet had been angry at him at first for accepting
this, for letting them run things when it was his duty to fight. But having seen him, the
constant fury in his eyes, the shaking tension in his hands, Jet could see it for what it was; he
was trying to keep as many people alive as possible, keep the city running and citizens safe.
But when the time came, that anger said he would fight, and he would give his all. It gave Jet
a little hope, helped him pull himself together a bit.

“How many girls do you have on the go at once, Jet?” Kang asked, raising an eyebrow as he
looked at Katara making tea for the Fire Nation officer in charge of the guardhouse. She had
a gritted jaw and fixed smile, and she looked very small and very vulnerable. Kang frowned
as he watched. “This one is a little young? A little too young to work here now,” he added
with some concern, obviously following the same thought paths as Sokka had. “I know you
need the money...”

“She can look after herself.”

“Yes, I remember.” Kang made motions with his hands that might have meant to convey
bending of some sort. “She was only a beginner, though,” he added, voice low.

Hardly. “That’s true, and I would appreciate it if we can keep an eye on her, anyway.” Jet
leant forward, lowering his voice further. “Not least because she has the temper of a sabre
tooth moose lion with a burr in its paw. Wouldn’t surprise me if she dropped some of that hot
tea right into the ashmaker’s lap.” He grinned, then winked. “And don’t mention the other
girl.” Kang snorted at him with a chuckle.

He was right, though, Katara was at risk however capable she was, but perhaps less so here
than out on the streets. That was the argument that had finally swayed Sokka to reluctant
agreement. The soldiers appeared to have an image to keep up. In the early days after the fall,
there had been assaults by soldiers reported. And it was expected that their new Fire Nation
guard commanders would have just laughed them off. But that hadn’t been the case. There
seemed to be a policy of zero tolerance towards sexual violence. And where proof was
available, prosecution had been swift and deadly. There were a few corpses strung up on the
walls to remind citizens and soldiers alike to follow the rules. It was so unlike their usual
behaviour, where rape was just an expected part of an invasion, that it boggled the mind.
There was talk suggesting the reason for this new attitude was because the commander in
charge was a woman. Jet wasn’t sure if that was true or not. He had always suspected Fire
Nation women would be just as evil as the men.

He had gone to see their new overlord speak, along with Kang and a few others. They were
too far away to see her clearly, but she seemed young and small, her hair a black cloud loose
around her shoulders. Her words were strong, though; calling for unity, and promising a
return to their own rule eventually, a coalition while they kept out the threat of the real
invasion.

It was poison. More dangerous than if the soldiers were murdering children in the streets.
Even if the dead on the walls did seem to imply she planned to keep some of her promises.
He wanted her gone. Dead was preferable. He wanted all of them out, but especially this
insidious woman promising things would get better if they just stopped resisting.

It felt like that message was everywhere in his life, a constant siren call to just give in, just
accept the small things and it would be okay. From the way their food was rationed, to the
speeches from the wall, the leaflets that were dropped for those that could read. The men in
the guardhouse, trying to do their jobs while being watched by a man in red.

Even in his personal activities it was creeping in.

Jet felt responsible for the Wang children somehow. They had been brought out of the sewers,
as the concerns of the Fire blooded adults were unfounded. There had been no hunt for
traitors, no people pulled from their houses to be executed. Jet would have been inclined to
believe that those scaremongering horrors had just been to manipulate him, but he thought
their fear had been genuine. The only people who mistrusted the Fire Nation commander
more than he did were apparently every grown-up with Fire blood hiding in the city. They
were all still waiting for the violence to start.

The network that he had somehow become involved with, had taken charge of the Wang
children. Even the Earth ones. Spread them out among the refugee families. Bowen and
Nanako had two of them. One was timid and quiet, a finger constantly stuck in his mouth and
his amber coloured eyes watchful and strangely blank. The other was surly and prone to
outbursts of anger. She wore her rage like armour, and Jet found he got along with her well.
She trusted him, far more than she did her other benefactors. And he could overlook the eyes,
convince himself that she was of mixed blood, in spite of the matter-of-fact way Nanako had
told him she was a baby firebender. Jet refused to accept that. Why wouldn’t she have burnt
the men who had hurt her if that was the case? She could have burned Wang’s down around
their ears if she had wanted. Or even by accident in a moment of fear.

But she hadn’t. So he reassured himself that Nanako was just wrong. She had to be.

Jet had requested Suki meet him away from the guardhouse because of the Fire Nation
presence, which she accepted. Although there were obviously other reasons to keep her away
now.
Unfortunately, that meant she wanted to meet at the Bowen and Nanako’s house, although
Suki was boarding with them, so he supposed it made sense. She probably would have gone
back to the boat, given the chance, but there was a citywide edict for all river-worthy vessels
to be used for fishing. They didn’t have access to all the river, but any additional food being
brought in was of essential importance.

It wasn’t easy to see Suki in her new lodgings, as it made Jet uncomfortable. Even when they
fed him. Especially then.

“I’m not eating that,” he said, eyeing the sad red vegetables and fried fish. The colour seemed
to come from a fragrant paste that smelled fermented.

“Oh no, the enemy spice might defeat you,” Suki said, waving her chopsticks at him rudely.
“Grow up.”

He huffed at her. Today it was a woman that he had learned to tolerate making him her Fire
Nation food, but tomorrow this is all there would be in the markets, and next week their own
dishes would be a thing of the past. That was how they did it. Suki came from a free area.
She hadn’t experienced being occupied the way he had.

It made him so angry.

He didn’t eat the food. It annoyed him how accepting his hosts were of his rudeness. Almost
like they were the ones that knew his fears, that understood.

“Let’s go for a walk, Suki,” he said. His stomach was rumbling unhappily, but he couldn’t
talk to her here, not properly, not about the invasion, about what would happen next. And
certainly not about resistance.

“Fine.”

Suki had insisted on washing the dishes and packing them away first, but eventually they
managed to escape. It was well before curfew, so they walked through the port side of town.
There were no longer restaurants or vendors selling food, and the people they passed were
subdued, keeping their heads down. It wasn’t the bloodbath they had been expecting, but it
was a far cry from what it had been.

He watched her out the corner of his eye. She seemed quiet. Thoughtful. It had been a while
since she had asked after her friend Shen. Perhaps she had given up hope. That was
something he had to start seriously considering soon. He still didn’t know how he wanted to
play things. So long as she only mentioned Shen and not Sokka or any of the others whose
names were more distinctive, he had plausible deniability. He desperately hoped she didn’t.
Aside from not knowing how best to use this to his advantage, he enjoyed spending time with
her. He didn’t want to see her reaction when she found out the things he had done. She was a
ruthless and practical person, but judging by the company she kept, he doubted she would
really understand his motivation. She might not forgive it, and for some reason, that mattered
to him.

“So?” she asked. “You wanted to talk to me away from my friends?”

“I can’t just want to spend time with you?”

She looked at him flatly. “No. You always have another motive, Jet. But that’s okay. Come
out with it, what are you planning?”

“You wound me.” He grinned and put a hand over his heart. She smiled, and he shrugged.
“We need to start planning some sort of organised resistance.” The people who were the most
prepared for such a thing was the fucking Fire Nation refugee network. It was way past time
for the Earth Citizens to catch up. “I can’t sit back and do nothing. And I doubt you can
either.”

She nodded. “Yeah. But carefully. I don’t want to make things worse for people by attacking
without planning.”

“Things will get worse anyway, Suki. Believe me.”

“Everything we do will have repercussions, but not necessarily for us, Jet.” Suki waved her
hand towards the shuttered shopfronts and empty streets.

“So you’re saying you want to just lie down and take it?”

“No. We will resist, we will fight, but not until we have a plan. A way to get people out.” Her
voice was full of angry passion and it made his heart lift to hear, even if her words were less
encouraging. “A way to protect the vulnerable. We need to make things better, not worse.”

“It’s better to be free,” Jet insisted.

“For you, maybe. For me, it’s better to live to fight another day. Dead is dead. I would rather
have hope and a tomorrow to try again.”

“You remind me of some other arsehole I know,” Jet said sourly. He didn’t want to be
reminded of Sokka. He was feeling particularly annoyed by him of late. The other boy had
the ear of Toph, Katara and Li, not to mention the Avatar. Some serious power and ability. It
was aggravating. If those people listened to Jet the way they listened to Sokka, he could take
this whole city back, he was sure of it.

“Well, maybe you should pay attention to your other arsehole friends, then,” she said archly.

“Aww, are we friends?” Jet said, trying to shift the mood so she didn’t see his vexation.

“Spirit’s help me. I guess we are. I must have done something terrible in a past life to deserve
this.” She jabbed him in the ribs with an affectionate elbow. “Listen. You bring me a plan,
even the bare bones of one and I could be in. I want to make things right here. I do.”

“Okay,” he said, jabbing her back and giving her a smile he didn’t really feel.

He was still feeling wound up when he left. There was a need to be doing something, not
necessarily something productive, just something to relieve the pressure.
A fight would have been nice. Preferably with Sokka. Jet could admit he was perhaps a little
jealous and his annoyance was unfair, but the thought of antagonising the other boy did lift
his spirits, and he grinned as he walked, his step lightening.

He was well aware he wasn’t the only one feeling jealous and while getting into a physical
fight would be impractical and unjustifiable, that wasn’t the only way he could get one over
on Sokka.

Li was on the roof. Jet could see his feet dangling over the edge as he approached the house
at street level. Things still seemed volatile between him and Sokka, although they were
sleeping in the same room and there had not been any screaming or arguing, just an
atmosphere of tension. It was pathetically easy to exploit.

Jet knocked on their bedroom door politely, entering at Sokka’s grunt. He was looking over
the city plans he and Toph had found during their scouting for useful things. They were
spread out on the bedroll in a sea of papers and scrolls. Sokka scowled as Jet came into the
room.

“He up there?” Jet jerked a thumb at the window that gave access to the roof.

Sokka shrugged. His blue eyes looked stormy, annoyed, cautious. It was what Jet had wanted,
and it gave him a small edge of satisfaction as he swung over the sill and started the climb
upward.

“Hey,” he greeted Li as he pulled himself up.

Like Sokka, Li just grunted. Everything in his body and face was indicating he wanted to be
left alone. But Jet studiously ignored it, sitting next to him with a smile and letting his feet
dangle over the edge too.

When Li continued to ignore him, Jet lay a hand on his shoulder. “You doing okay?” He
didn’t bother to lower his voice. Spitefully knowing Sokka might be able to hear snatches of
their conversation.

“Why do you do that?” Li asked, twitching out from under his hand and scowling fiercely.

“Do what?”

“Touch me all the time!”

He really was in a mood. Li had been as upset as Jet after the fall of the city, and his
apparently complicated relationship with Sokka seemed to be making it worse. “Don’t you
like it? Sokka touches you.”

“That’s different.”

“How?” Jet kept his own voice light.

“It just is.” Li looked at his hands, fingers clutching each other in his lap. He had it bad. Jet
could see that, and if he was honest, he knew he wasn’t going to win this one. But that was
alright. He thought he could, with more time and a willingness to alienate the rest of the
Avatar’s little gang, but it wasn’t worth that. The best he could hope for was to win Li’s
friendship and to bring him on side. It was hard work, though. Li was difficult.

Still, nothing ventured, nothing gained. He lifted a hand again, poking the other boy in gently
in the shoulder, indicating his intention. When he met no objection, he ran a hand across the
back of Li’s neck, soft and friendly, giving it a small squeeze. Li shuddered. “You don’t like
it?” Jet asked sincerely. “I’ll stop if you say so.”

Li said nothing for a moment. Jet thought he did like the contact, he was just unsure of his
feelings. His skin was jumping under Jet’s fingers, but he hadn’t pulled away.

“People never touched me before,” Li said.

Before he left home? Before he was scarred? Jet didn’t press. He let the easy quiet stretch so
Li could speak when he was ready. His breathing was agitated, and he was still twitching
slightly.

“Now people do,” Li said at last. “Sokka does. You do. My... friend Shen, he did all the
time.”

Shen, again. Lucky it was a common name. “And do you hate it?”

“No!” Said like that was a crime.

“So maybe you’re denying yourself something you want. Just roll with it.” Jet slid his arm
over Li’s shoulder again, tugging him close. “If it makes you uncomfortable, say stop. Don’t
overthink it.”

Li grunted, his whole body radiating unrest. What he needed was to let off some steam. “You
want to head out again tonight? I think I have a good target.”

Li’s eyes sharpened and brightened, his posture immediately changing from agitated to
focused and ready. “I’m in.”

He didn’t even ask any questions, just trusted Jet knew what he was about. Jet liked that, he
liked it a lot. It felt like solid ground when everything felt like quicksand.

There were always people, citizens and soldiers alike, who managed to capitalise on a
disaster and an invasion was no different. With people hovering on the edge of a famine, they
hoarded food, stole it from the needy and sold it on the black market. Jet and Li had taken to
raiding these illicit supplies and redistributing the stolen food and valuables. It was relatively
safe—it wasn’t like the thieves could report the theft to the guard. So it was only the raids
themselves that felt dangerous.

This seemed to suit Li, both in the ability to take direct, physical action, and in an appeal to
what appeared to be his innate need for justice and doing right by people.

That was one of the things in Li that Jet could relate to. He himself felt it so strongly, like a
burning need. He understood how badly Li wanted to be out there, making a difference.
“Tonight then. You and me,” Jet said. He squeezed Li’s shoulder again, his hand travelling
down the length of his arm to gently grip his wrist.

Li didn’t pull away. “Tonight,” he agreed.

………

Shen estimated it took about a day before a guard came for him. Something he had been both
hoping for and dreading. He hadn’t been able to sleep for worried anticipation, and he felt
very out of sorts.

“Are you sure about this?” Chao asked, holding Shen’s arm tightly for a moment.

“Yeah. Yeah. It will be okay,” Shen said. He wished he actually felt that confident. Instead, he
was consumed with doubt and anxiety. He was equally afraid of failing and succeeding. Not a
great position to be in.

Shen stood as strong and straight as he could as he stepped out of the cell. He could hear
people muttering behind him and he hoped he wasn’t being labelled a collaborator or
something. He had to trust his friends would speak up for him if those sorts of rumours
started.

The guard bound Shen’s hands in front of him and grasped one arm in a hot grip. “You try
anything…” he said, and his hand heated to a temperature that made Shen gasp, although it
didn’t blister the skin.

He hated firebenders and firebending, he really did. Except Zuli, who got a pass for being
small, cute and peculiar, apparently.

Shen wasn’t in any doubt he was being taken to Kazuma. Who else could it be? He took a
careful note of the route they took through the twisting corridors. Registering each turn and
counting each doorway. It was a long trip, and it felt like they were far from the prison when
they finally stepped out of a small stairwell and into another corridor that smelt… brighter.
Like it might actually see fresh air occasionally.

The guard rapped on a thick wooden door, then pushed Shen inside. “The prisoner, sir,” he
said.

Kazuma was seated behind a desk, writing something on a sheet of paper in front of him and
looking very calm and well put together. His thick topknot was as contained and immaculate
as his clothes. No armour again. For a soldier, he didn’t seem to want to be in uniform if it
could be avoided. Shen missed his own like it was a second skin that had been ripped away
from him.

Kazuma nodded to them as they entered, laying down his brush and gesturing to the chair
opposite.

Shen blinked rapidly as he was led further forward. The bright light from the high window
was almost blinding. For a moment, a sense of pure joy just from the sight of the sun on the
stone floor filled him. It was so overpowering he thought he might cry and humiliate himself.

He was still trying to keep his emotions under control as the guard forced him to sit, untying
his hands and strapping the left to the arm of his chair. The right remained free. Both ankles
were also tied. The process made all the hair on Shen’s arms stand up. It was frightening
being so restricted and it reminded him of the way he had been bound while Ro tortured him.

Kazuma was watching him carefully and with little expression. “Leave us,” he told the guard,
his gaze not leaving Shen’s face.

Shen’s heart was racing with fear and doubt, and he had little room for other thoughts, so he
just stared back. Kazuma looked exactly the same as he had before, sharp features, high
cheekbones, and very well groomed. Shen felt an uncomfortable flush of shame over his own
unkempt appearance, something that made him angry—it was hardly his fault he looked a
mess. Angry was better. He could do this.

“My apologies for the bindings, Captain Shen,” Kazuma said politely.

“It’s just Shen. And you would be a moron not to restrain me.”

“You would attack me given that chance?” Kazuma raised an eyebrow, but seemed amused at
the prospect.

Shen shrugged with his free shoulder. Kazuma nodded amicably and rose from the desk,
making his way to a side table close to the patch of sun. Shen had been so focused on the
light, he hadn’t even noticed it. Or the faint smell emanating from it.

When Kazuma turned back to him, he had a bowl of something that looked like it might be
food, and Shen fixated on it as he walked back to the desk. The dish in his hands began to
steam, releasing an incredible meaty fragrance. It smelt so good Shen didn’t even feel any
discomfort at the firebending. He watched as Kazuma lay down the bowl and set out a pair of
the thin, pointy chopsticks his people seemed to prefer.

“Please.” Kazuma gestured at the bowl as he returned to his seat. “I know rations in the
prison are poor.”

Shen briefly considered being contemptuous of the offering, but the smell of the food was too
much. He reached for it with his free hand, tugging it closer. It was just meat, vegetables and
some rice, but it was fresh; the vegetables were still bright with colour and the meat juicy
with fat. He tried very hard to be slow and not shovel it into his mouth, but he was not sure
he managed it. Anyway, fuck Kazuma, it wouldn’t be an issue if Shen had not spent the past
week close to starving.

“Why am I here?” he asked with his mouth full. He could feel a little grease slipping down
his chin, but he didn’t stop to wipe it off.

Kazuma didn’t seem surprised or upset by his table manners. Although Shen doubted the
other man had ever gone hungry, he had probably seen enough people who had.
“To talk,” Kazuma answered after a moment. “I’m interested to know what brought you here,
and of what has happened since we last met. As well as some information about the state of
the prisoners.”

Shen snorted. “The state of the prisoners is to be expected. Too many people in one cell. It’s
unhygienic. We don’t get to exercise and you didn’t bother to feed us properly.” He shoved in
another mouthful, even though his stomach was beginning to feel uncomfortably full. Any
more and he might vomit it all up again, which would be a shame, so with an effort, he lay
the chopsticks down and wiped his face with his arm. He had only made it through half the
bowl. He would have a rest, then try again.

“I am sorry for that. I will do my best to improve things,” Kazuma said gravely.

“Whatever.”

“Is… Li here also?”

Going straight for the jugular, apparently. But it was a question Shen could answer honestly.
“Nope, not to my knowledge.”

“Are you certain? It is important. I no longer wish to find him, but it would be... unfortunate
if they imprisoned him here.”

“Oh, so you’ve just given up on your hunt, have you? I believe that. Thousands wouldn’t.”

“I have a different patron now. Unlike Tsing, she does not wish harm to come to him, nor
does she want him captured.”

Well, that sounded suspicious. Also suspicious was using the name Li and not just saying the
Blue Spirit. Was he just being overly cautious, or was there something else behind it?

“Finish your food, Shen.”

He had to take a moment to centre himself before picking up the chopsticks. He wanted to
finish everything and then maybe lick the bowl, but his stomach wouldn’t allow it. “Can I
take the rest to go?”

Kazuma smiled, a small uptick of the lip. “Your cellmates would mob you, so no. But we can
talk again, and I can bring you something else. Is there anything you would particularly like
to eat?”

“Meat dumplings in broth,” Shen answered immediately. Good solid food he had grown up
on. “And in return?”

“In return, I will ask you some further questions.”

Kazuma rose from his seat again and stepped around the table, leaning against its edge and
looking down at him, considering. Shen didn’t like it. The position felt threatening. He was
too close, and he felt he could almost sense the heat coming off him. It was also aggravating
that he smelled nice, something lightly fragranced and musky. Perhaps an oil for hair or skin.
It made Shen want to kick him. Punch him in his perfectly groomed Fire Nation face.

“I do not mean you any harm, I just hope that we can help each other,” Kazuma tried.

“Oh?” Shen sounded sullen even to himself.

“I am looking for two missing men who might have become mixed up with the soldiers taken
to the prisons. Perhaps you could keep an ear to the ground for me? And in return, I can try to
make things easier for you and your fellow prisoners. Perhaps speed up the release of those
considered low risk to make some space.”

So this was what this whole song and dance had really been about. Shen would bet his next
water ration one of those missing men was the General. “Forget it,” he said. “Punish me, lock
me up and throw away the key. I’m not ratting anyone out. I don’t care what these people are
supposed to have done. I won’t trust a firebender’s word on their crimes, anyway.”

Kazuma shrugged, a rustle of silk and another waft of that annoyingly pleasant scent. “We
will see.”

Shen glared up at him and stubbornly ate another bit of meat. Chewing slowly and with
attitude.

Kazuma watched his mouth for a moment, like he couldn’t help himself. Shen smirked at
him, and he flushed slightly at having been caught. He moved back behind his desk and sat,
sorting briefly through the papers he had there.

Okay, time to get back on track. Antagonising him was the opposite of what Shen wanted. It
was even more important to move ahead with his plan now he knew Kazuma’s true interests.
Shen had not been overly concerned about being questioned about the Blue Spirit again. He
had no useful information to give up. But the general currently hiding in his cell? That would
be another story.

So, distraction, he could do that. He just had to fight through the lingering fears. He was a
soldier, pushing through discomfort was what he did. He leaned back in the chair, putting
himself as much on display as he could—not easy considering three out of four limbs were
tied to the damn thing.

“Right. Let’s cut the bullshit, shall we?” he asked, putting as much sultry as he could into his
voice. Kazuma blinked at him, clearly a little confused, but also from the way his gaze dipped
down briefly to where Shen’s ill-fitting prison shirt was pulling across his chest, not immune
to what Shen was offering.

“Bullshit?” Kazuma asked.

“Yeah. You and I both know you didn’t bring me down here to talk about prisoner conditions
or missing men. So let’s cut the crap and get to it.” That was probably a bit too forward, too
aggressive. But Shen’s anxiety was making it hard for him to rein in his emotions, take it
slow.
Kazuma just looked at him. He seemed genuinely bemused, his slim fingers tapping against
the table briefly before he cracked the knuckles of his right hand.

“You want to fuck me,” Shen said bluntly. “Have since Lao Fort, before even. So let’s make a
deal.”

Kazuma’s eyes widened, and he got the scared rabbit look on his face again. His mouth
opened a little, but he didn’t seem able to form words. It made Shen feel far more confident,
more in control, despite the obvious fact he wasn’t. He leaned forward, smiling slightly, and
keeping his voice smooth and even. “Come on, what is it you want? You want me on my
knees for you? I can do that.”

Kazuma’s face was flushing, and he looked mortified. Actually, terrified might be closer.
Shen found he kind of enjoyed that expression on his face, and he let his mouth curl up into
what was probably a pretty mean looking smirk. “Or maybe you want me to bend you over
this desk and fuck you so good you’ll be able to feel me for days?”

That had been a risk. Some men were funny about that sort of thing, even in the Earth
Kingdom, but Kazuma’s face had gone red and his breathing looked disordered. His light-
coloured eyes were almost black. Shen leant back again, fascinated. He didn’t think he had
ever seen anyone have such an intense physical reaction just to him talking at them. It wasn’t
even good dirty talk. “Well?” he asked as the silence stretched. “Do you need some more
options to think about?”

“Shut up, Shen.” Kazuma shook himself slightly, inhaling sharply, with his eyes a little wild.
Even if he looked like he was having a breakdown, his voice was firm, if quiet. “You can’t
just say things like that! You can’t,” he hissed. “Do you think, if I lose my position because of
a nasty rumour, that someone else will be as kind to your fellow prisoners? Will feed you
fresh food? Because it will only take a hint of…of what you just said getting out to ruin me.
And although you might think that would be some sort of justice, it would leave you in a far
worse position that you are in currently.”

“That was a lot of words, and none of them were a no.” Shen kept his voice low, though. He
wanted to seduce the man, not destroy him. Not while he could still be useful, anyway.

Kazuma gave him a flat look, but remained quiet. He stared at Shen as he got his breathing
under control and his face took on its usual stern and shuttered expression. Although his eyes
were still dark, and his cheeks a little pink under the close-cropped beard.

Shen shifted uncomfortably as the intense scrutiny continued. His confidence and the thrill of
pleasure at making the bastard so uncomfortable had evaporated, and now he was stuck
wondering which option would be worse–having pissed Kazuma off to the degree he would
never allow him out of his cell again, or if he decided to take Shen up on the offer. Especially
while annoyed. That could be … unpleasant.

Just thinking about that possibility was giving him the horrors, and Shen squirmed a little,
taking in a bit of a shaky breath.
Kazuma was watching him closely, and there was a slight shift in expression. He suddenly
looked much calmer. “We will speak no more about this.”

Shen raised an eyebrow. “We both know-”

“Irrelevant.” Kazuma cut him off tartly. “You will never have to fear this from me. I would
not force another person to engage in such things.”

Shameful that he had clearly seen Shen’s distress and fright. Frustrating that his own
weakness was stealing this opportunity from him. “You wouldn’t be forcing me. It would be a
deal. A willing exchange.”

“Even if I wished to indulge in… that, you are my prisoner. I would never take advantage in
such a way.” He took a breath that still looked a little uneven. “I will keep my word. We will
meet again, and I will bring you dumplings. And perhaps in return, you will consider the
things I have asked for.” He nodded to himself and rose from his seat. “I will send someone
to return you to your cell.” He bowed, without waiting for a response, and swept out of the
room.

Well, Shen had managed to rattle him. Shame that wasn’t what he had been going for.
Somehow, this outcome was worse than if he had agreed to meet for sex. He didn’t
understand what the deal was, what he was giving in exchange. If he refused to provide him
the information he requested, what was Kazuma hoping to achieve? To wear him down? It
wasn’t going to happen. And if that was the case, was there going to be a sudden shift from
pleasant company and dumplings to torture and pain? Kazuma seemed to actively object to
that sort of stuff and didn’t seem like the type to get off on it. But if his patron, whoever he
was, grew tired of not obtaining what he wanted, then would Kazuma have to proceed with
such methods, or at least, deliver Shen to someone who would?

Wait. Kazuma had said she not he when describing his mysterious patron. Someone who had
the power to steal him from Tsing? Or had he been kicked out after the disaster at Lao Fort?
Shen didn’t know of any female commanders. Except the rumoured Fire Princess. The one
who had taken the impenetrable city in a matter of days.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

This whole thing had been a terrible idea. He should have stayed quiet and just prepared
himself to rot away in jail for the rest of his miserable life, because he was fairly sure this
was going to be a disaster.

…………

Kazuma did manage to make it all the way back to his own rooms before he had a meltdown.
That had to count for something. He could barely remember the end of the preceding
conversation, although he thought he had been holding it together well.

By the time he made it to his quarters, his whole body was shaking with a sickening mix of
fear and lust. He didn’t know what to do with himself.
He washed his hands twice, but that didn’t help. He even took his hair down and combed it,
but the sensation and the smell of his hair oil didn’t work, either. He felt like both his mind
and body were crawling with insects.

The whole thing had been a stupid idea, speaking to Shen. But once Kazuma knew he was
there, he couldn’t help himself. He was too curious about the other man, his situation, how he
had ended up in jail, and, of course, the Blue Spirit—Prince Zuko. Did Shen even know who
he really was? Or did he genuinely think he was just some half-breed boy on a one man
rampage against the Fire Nation?

It felt a bit unnerving thinking about the Blue Spirit again. But it was worth finding out
whatever he could. Knowing where Zuko was would be invaluable. With things as they were,
having two potential heirs to the throne running loose was both very risky for all parties, and
yet, could also be very important should anything befall Azula. Kazuma would rather die
than allow harm to come to her... but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a possibility.

That wasn’t the only reason he had designed to speak to Shen again, of course. Despite the
circumstances, he did enjoy the man’s company. It was strangely refreshing, and made him
look at things differently.

Fuck, but he was still lying to himself with that thought, or at least using it to obscure the
truth. That wasn’t the only reason he had an interest in Shen. Curse him.

Kazuma smoothed out his sleeves and scowled at the fine material. He truly regretted that
one lapse in his rigid control, that one brief fantasy while Shen was bound shirtless in his tent
when they had first met. If Kazuma had better control, perhaps he wouldn’t be in this
situation at all.

But that was a lie, too. Perhaps it was inevitable that this had happened, and maybe it was
better that it had happened with this particular person. Shen had seemed safe. He was an
enemy, someone Kazuma could never have, physically or emotionally. Safe.

When the bastard propositioned him like that, Kazuma had been honestly shocked. So
brazen. So explicit.

He groaned and dug the heels of his palms into his eyes, as his mind was assaulted by images
again. Shen said he would get on his knees for him. Kazuma wasn’t exactly sure what he was
offering there, oral sex? Or did he mean hands and knees like...

This was intolerable. There was no way he could get through the rest of the day like this. He
had a meeting with Azula.

Even that thought wasn’t enough to quell his rebellious body. And with it came another wave
of emotion; this one extreme embarrassment. That Shen had seen his unnatural lust so easily,
and then so casually used it against him... Shen didn’t even seem bothered by that aspect.
Although he had clearly been afraid of Kazuma taking him up on it.

And now another wave of shame. But in spite of all the negative horrible feelings, nothing
was working to free him from the thoughts about sex. They were offensive, intrusive, and
relentless. It was awful.

In his experience, there was only one way to get some relief from it. But the thought made
him feel even worse than usual. Shen’s fear made the idea of fantasising about the situation
while dealing with it feel doubly wrong, somehow.

Not that it wouldn’t be an act filled with shame anyway. He tried to avoid touching himself
like that. It could only encourage the feelings he was trying to suppress. And on those
occasions when it was the only way to clear his mind and body, he tried to make it as
perfunctory as possible. Just a physical act. It felt wrong to think about real people that he
had seen or met. And thoughts of Ensuji were far too painful, even after more than twenty
years.

He leant his hot forehead against the cool stone wall and opened the ties to his trousers. His
robe was probably wrinkling horribly from being scooped up and slung over one arm, but he
could only spare a brief thought for it.

He tried not to think of anything, tried not to even feel his hand on his own flesh, but images
kept slipping through. Some were memories of sensation, of lust and love. And some were
new; the thought of Shen’s smirk, his full mouth tilted up at the side. The way he’d come at
Kazuma back in Lao Fort, and the expression on his face. The words he had said just an hour
before. It was dizzying. Exciting. Enticing. Awful.

His orgasm hit him hard, making him gasp and shiver, with his jaw clenched and his eyes
shut so tight he saw sparks.

After the last shudders left him, the shame crashed in. It was worse than usual, thinking about
a person he knew, a person completely in his power. It was a terrible thing to do, and it left
him feeling bereft.

But he didn’t have time to feel sorry for himself, so he forced his body into action. He
vigorously stuffed his wrinkled robe into the basket he was using for his laundry, as though it
was somehow at fault for his humiliation. Then he cleaned himself up, changed clothes, and
combed his hair again. It didn’t steady him the way he had hoped. His hands were reddened
and sore from washing, and he rubbed some ointment on them. The smell was relaxing, and
that helped a little.

A knock on his door made him jump, anxiety sweeping through his body like a fire.

“Kazuma? We’re going to be late!”

Ichika. And if she was worried about being late, they must be very tardy indeed.

He opened the door and glared at her. “I’m ready.”

She looked him over with a slightly incredulous expression on her face. “Your hair is loose,”
she said.
He clutched it. How had he not realised that? Even aside from the fact that it would be
frowned upon for him not to wear his topknot when attending someone of higher rank than
himself, he never had his hair loose in front of people. Aside from Ichika, of course.

“Are you quite alright, Kazuma?” she asked with some obvious concern.

“Yes... I didn’t sleep well.”

He hurried back inside, taming his hair with quick practised motions and tying it up properly.
The routine made him feel a little calmer. But he still wasn’t in the best frame of mind for
important meetings. The feeling of shame was still clinging to him, and strangely, under that,
some anger. It just felt so unfair he couldn’t have what he wanted. Not the sex, or not just
that, but the rest of it. He wanted tenderness. A lover. He could take a female companion, of
course, but it would be deeply unfair to her, as he would never be able to give her the care she
would deserve. He wanted to no longer feel this shame, especially over something that
seemed so out of his control.

“Kazuma, are you sure you are okay?”

He realised he had been standing on the rug staring into the middle distance. “I’m fine. Let’s
go before she punishes me again.”

He didn’t like being punished, and was probably lucky it had only been discomfort and mild
embarrassment and not something excruciating or permanently scarring, but right now he
might welcome it, and certainly deserved it.

He followed Ichika away from the safety of his rooms and through the maze of grand
corridors that lead to the Princess’ quarters.

“Captain Kazuma?”

Zhao. Possibly the last person Kazuma wanted to see. He turned and bowed respectfully.
“Admiral, have you arrived with reinforcements for us? Her Highness will be pleased.” She
would be anything but, especially if he was here on her father’s orders.

“Yes. I was just on my way to present myself to Princess Azula.”

“Walk with us, then,” Kazuma said. “We are also going to attend her.” Although if Iroh was
there, Zhao turning up unexpectedly would be most unfortunate. “Ichika, perhaps you could
go ahead of us and inform her Highness of the admiral’s arrival?”

“There is no need-” Zhao began, but Ichika bowed and hurried forward, ignoring him. Her
thoughts must have run along a similar path.

“My apologies, Admiral. I wished for a moment alone to speak to you,” Kazuma said
smoothly.

“Oh?” Zhao smiled, and there was something in it that made the hair on Kazuma’s neck stand
up. “Have you managed to fulfil the task you set yourself? I am sure I saw Lord Jianjun as I
came into the palace. I also noticed he was not wearing his father’s colours, but rather some
other uniform?”

Was he concerned at Kazuma’s lack of progress, or was it more? “Yes, Admiral. Further
investigation has led me to believe that Jianjun is not the Blue Spirit after all. I am sorry for
offering you false hope of a resolution to your problem.”

The man smiled again, and Kazuma knew he had not been wrong. Something was off,
something in his eyes was screaming it. He had to tread lightly.

“And the uniform?”

Kazuma was keeping the pace as slow as he could, giving Ichika as much time as possible,
but it was awkward resisting keeping up with Zhao’s longer stride. “Perhaps you should
speak to Princess Azula about that, Admiral. Jianjun is following her orders.”

“As are you, it seems,” Zhao said, his voice smooth as silk and as poisonous as a viper bat.

“Yes.” Kazuma nodded. He didn’t like knowing something was amiss, with no way to figure
out what it was. It was adding to the anxiety already pounding through his body and he had to
fight hard to keep the appearance of being relaxed, to stop himself from wringing his hands.

“I see. So, you are back to square one with the Blue Spirit?”

“Unfortunately.”

“But now,” Zhao said, with the predatory edge to his voice more open. “You are no no longer
Tsing’s man. If you are Azula’s, perhaps your hunt is not as urgent as it was.”

“It is true I am not at risk in the way I was previously,” Kazuma said carefully.

Zhao hummed noncommittally. It was vexing that Kazuma couldn’t tell if the bastard wanted
him to continue the charade of hunting the Prince, or if it would be safer to stop.“I would still
like a resolution, though. For the sake of my reputation, if nothing else.” He hoped that was
middle of the road enough to appease him for now.

There was no time to speculate further, however, as they had reached Azula’s door. Ichika
popped her head out as they approached. Her dash down the corridor had disrupted the
security of her topknot and it was listing dangerously to the right. Kazuma itched to point it
out to her, to get her to fix it to avoid judgement. But it was a little late.

“Please enter,” Ichika said, bowing and making her hair flop even further.

Azula was sitting on her chair, slightly elevated on the dais, with her legs crossed and her
mouth a little pinched in annoyance. Otherwise, she looked calm, unconcerned. But she must
know as well as Kazuma did that Zhao’s presence was trouble.

Standing to the side, Jianjun wasn’t even pretending to hide his own distaste. He looked like
he could smell something foul in the room, and he knew exactly where it was coming from.
“Admiral Zhao,” Azula said. She sounded polite, but Kazuma thought he could see fire in her
eyes.

Zhao bowed and smiled and launched into a tedious speech, singing her praises, while not
skimping on his own achievements. He didn’t seem to realise he was staring his own death in
the face. Azula had not forgotten what this man had done to her brother. And she wouldn’t let
it stand. Not for long.

“Did my father send you?” Azula interrupted whatever nonsense Zhao was spewing.

He paused, a little nonplussed. “For support, Your Highness. I can see you have done great
things here.”

“Of course. My father taught me well. Taking the city in his name was easy enough.”

Kazuma saw Zhao’s eyes flick to Jianjun, who, while noticeably not in his father's colours,
was also not in the Fire Lords. This situation could get dicey fast. They were going to have to
try to control the information Zhao sent back to Ozai. Not an easy task.

“It is good you are here, Admiral,” Azula said. “We could use your support on the river. We
need to break the blockade and resume trade.”

Zhao didn’t look thrilled. He had already lost ships to Hakoda on the way in.

“Or,” Azula purred, her eyes narrow, and an expression like a predator scenting blood. “We
could treat with them, as they have asked for a meeting. Perhaps I could leave that to you?”

She had been intending Kazuma to do it, and he desperately hoped that she was just playing
with Zhao, because sending the man who had tortured Hakoda’s son to make a deal with the
man was probably not the best option if she wanted to actually achieve something. Unless
that something was a fight. Perhaps she was hoping to push them into combat? It was hard to
tell. He just hoped she spoke to him about her plan before he was dumped into the middle of
it. He would really rather not be there when things came to a head.

“We will speak more on it tomorrow.” Azula flipped a hand in Zhao’s direction. “You are
dismissed. Kazuma, you stay.”

Zhao shot Kazuma a look that again made him shiver with the feeling of threat. “Of course,
Your Highness. Captain Kazuma, perhaps we can speak later?”

“Certainly.”

Kazuma didn’t turn to watch him leave, instead he remained where he was, staring at the wall
somewhat past Azula’s ear and desperately trying to figure out what the bastard knew. He
would have to contact Xin Yan, see if she was aware of anything that had happened in the
city since he had left that may have initiated this change of behaviour. In the meantime, he
would need to continue as if he was none the wiser. Best Zhao didn’t realise he was aware
anything was off.

“Kazuma, are you listening to me?”

He dragged his gaze to meet Azula’s. “My apologies, Your Highness. I was thinking.”

“About what, I wonder?” She had a narrow-eyed look on her face that made him shift a little
uncomfortably. “What were you doing this morning?” she asked, raising an eyebrow like she
was setting a trap.

He stared at her. This could also be bad.

“Do you think I don’t keep tabs on you, Kazuma?” She rapped her fingernails against the
wood of her armrest. “You were seeing that prisoner, the one you spoke to before. Why?”

Kazuma wet his lips and attempted to look as innocent as he possibly could while his heart
slammed in his chest and his mind helpfully assaulted him with obscene images. “I was
questioning him about the whereabouts of our missing generals.”

“You know him.” It was not a question.

“I’ve... held him prisoner before,” he admitted reluctantly.

Azula’s other eyebrow went up. “When?”

She clearly had a suspicion… or did she know and was waiting to trip him up somehow? He
felt so out of sorts he couldn’t think through it clearly. Truth seemed to be the safest option.
For him, anyway. It might not be for Shen. “I took him to Lao River Fort.”

“I see.”

“Is this the man the Blue Spirit rescued?” Jianjun interjected. Kazuma wanted to eviscerate
him. “We should question him about that.”

“No,” Azula said. “I have no interest in your father’s obsession with the stupid vigilante.”

“Well, perhaps you should.”

“Watch your tongue, Jianjun. The Blue Spirit has never bothered me, only tyrants like your
father and Zhao, so he is hardly a priority. Drop it.” She switched her sharp gaze back to
Kazuma. “I assume you were not wasting your time on these matters after I told you to leave
them be?” she asked.

“No, Your Highness. I asked after the generals.”

Azula clicked her tongue. “And? What did you learn?”

“Nothing so far. But I will speak to him again and I am confident he will share anything he
knows.” Which would probably be nothing.

She leant back, pursing her lips. “Try removing some fingers if he is reticent. I find that
helps.”
She was watching him so closely he felt she could see through him to the shameful truth. It
felt a little like she was a cat, encouraging her prey to run so she could pounce on it again. He
took a breath. “I find torture is not a reliable method for gaining information,” he tried,
probably foolishly. “People will say anything to save themselves or to stop the pain. They
will confess to things that are false and point fingers at the innocent.”

He couldn’t quite identify what her expression was conveying. It still had that almost playful
feline intensity, and it made his skin crawl with anxiety. She was interested in finding the
generals, obviously. But Shen was also important to her brother, and Kazuma was not sure
how she intended to use that.

Perhaps he could distract her by uncovering the other information she was looking for.
Perhaps he could find a way to convince Shen it was in his own best interest to reveal
anything he knew. Or in ‘Li’s’ best interests. That might work better.

That was assuming he knew anything at all.

If he was unsuccessful, then Azula might take over and that would probably not be pleasant
for Shen. Kazuma would also need to keep an eye on Jianjun, to make sure he didn’t take
matters into his own hands. Neither of them had the slightest qualms about ‘questioning’
their prisoners in a way that made Kazuma profoundly uncomfortable. But thankfully, neither
showed any sign of being unnaturally excited by it. It was just a tool, not a... desire.

Still, he would really rather Shen avoided that fate, and it might lead to a whole host of
problems down the line if Azula had her brother’s companion tortured because she was
feeling petty.

This was all going to get very complicated, and he felt he was directly responsible for it. It
wasn’t something that was sitting well with him. Finding a way to take Shen out of the
equation would probably be best. Preferably without killing him. It wasn’t his fault he had
ended up in this position. But how to do that without attracting more questions?

The need to wash his hands was an almost physical force, so strong he felt dizzy with it. He
wasn’t sure how he was going to get through the rest of the day, let alone speak to Zhao later.

But he was going to have to find a way.

…………….

Sokka was not having the best day. Week. Year.

Jet was infiltrating his group of friends. And there was very little he could do about it, not
without seeming like he lacked trust in the people he cared about. And he didn’t! He did trust
them. Mostly. He just really didn’t trust Jet. And okay, so there were aspects of his loved ones
he didn’t... that he had concerns about. Aang was a little naïve sometimes, and he wanted to
see the best in people. But he was a fast learner. Sokka didn’t think he would be taken in by
Jet again, not after the near disaster of last time. Even though he was willing to give him
another chance, he wasn’t going in blind.
No, it was Katara that had Sokka crawling the walls. She still didn’t like Jet, she hadn’t
forgiven him and was still furious and hurt by what he had done. But Sokka suspected she
felt she could use him, use his knowledge, his passion, that terrible consuming fire in him.
She didn’t seem to realise he was doing the same to her. Jet was a master of his art, and
Katara was a novice at the sort of manipulation he was capable of. It was very upsetting.

And deliberate on Jet’s part, Sokka thought. He knew Sokka would put his energy in keeping
an eye on Katara, and leave Zuko without someone watching his back. Of course, if Sokka
had dared to say anything to Zuko to stop him spending time with Jet, that would have been
its own disaster.

And things had been tense between them since the argument about Katara getting a job at the
guardhouse. The awful, awkward conversation with his sister after hadn’t helped. It had made
his skin itch. He couldn’t force himself to undress to sleep at all for two days. Until Zuko had
told him he stank and he was going to forcibly take him downstairs and dunk him and his
clothes in the well.

Strangely, that had made Sokka feel better. Like someone else could take charge for a few
moments and give him peace for a while. The feeling had gone again once Zuko had slipped
out with Jet for one of their nightly excursions. Spying on the soldiers, they said. That might
have been partly true, but Zuko sometimes returned to bed smelling like excitement, sweat
and blood.

It was a weirdly good smell on him, but Sokka still hated it. Hated it because he was
associating it with Jet. Honestly, he felt like he was going out of his mind and he was perhaps
unfairly placing all the blame on that manipulative, smarmy bastard.

He accepted he had been in a foul temper. He believed everyone thought it was due to his
argument with Katara. But then Toph patted him on the back and told him, “Jealousy is an
ugly emotion.” Then she laughed. But despite her obvious amusement, the rough hand that
had touched him felt warm and sincere.

He understood. He had to get a handle on things. His moods were affecting the team.

But it was hard! And they were out again. Sokka was unable to sleep. The inside of his brain
was tearing itself apart with worry, with jealousy, with anger, and he had no control over it.

He was staring out the window, toying with the idea of imagining his father sailing in and
liberating the city. Then imagining his own crippling shame when that happened. He had
failed so spectacularly in his task to prevent the invasion; he didn’t know if he could ever
face the men of his tribe again.

He was just getting started thinking about how perhaps saving the Earth King single-
handedly might restore some of his lost honour, when he saw Zuko materialise out of the
dark.

He was doing his Blue Spirit prowl, and he looked full of the wild energy he got when he did
something dangerous and insane. It made Sokka shiver to see.
“Li, wait up,” Jet said, slipping into the alley with him. It was dark, but the streetlights from
the main road were illuminating enough to see their faces. Sokka was torn between watching
and climbing back into his bed and sticking his fingers in his ears. He didn’t know which one
would cause him more aggravation. But he could see that as well as being wound up from
whatever they had been doing, Zuko was also agitated. So clearly, Sokka had to keep an eye
on things, just to be certain he was actually okay.

Sure.

“Wait,” Jet said again and Zuko paused.

They were not being as quiet as they could be. Zuko could move as silent as a shadow when
he wanted to, but keeping his voice low was not something he was good at. Jet didn’t seem to
be bothering either, so it was their own fault they got spied on.

“Why did you do that?” Zuko said, accusing and sharp. Everything about him was screaming
trouble, and Sokka sat up a little straighter.

Jet shrugged easily, his body fluid and graceful. “I was just pumped. You know how it is, that
feeling you get when things go so smoothly.”

“You kissed me,” Zuko said flatly.

There was a bad feeling welling up in Sokka’s belly. Jealousy, anger. Really bad anger. He
had to take a few deep breaths.

“It was just a peck on the cheek, Li, it’s not like I ravished you.”

Zuko raised a hand and touched the cheek in question, his fingers lingering a moment.

Sokka could see Jet’s grin in the dim light, fierce and feral. “That wasn’t really a kiss. I could
show you a real one, if you want.” Challenging. The bastard did know what Zuko’s flash
points were.

“I know what a real kiss is.” Zuko’s indignation was clear, but so was his confusion, and,
unfortunately, his interest. Sokka knew his body so well he could see it in the way he was
standing, even at a distance, the way his arms had come up to shield his body a little.

“Sokka?” Jet asked. “Or someone else?”

“Both,” Zuko answered shortly. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Jet nodded, but then stepped into his personal space. Zuko moved back until he hit the wall of
the house opposite.

Punch him. Punch him. It was a mantra in Sokka’s mind, making him feel a little dizzy. He
was caught between rage and uncertainty. Should he interfere? If he did, would it be for the
right reasons? Zuko could look out for himself. He was capable of beating Jet in a fight if he
wanted. But what if he was too overwhelmed? He had just backed away from Jet, and he
never, ever retreated from a fight. What if he was frozen and Sokka just sat and watched
because he was trying to give him space?

“Say yes or no, Li,” Jet said. He was so close Zuko had to tilt his head up, and Sokka felt like
his whole body was pounding with his own heartbeat. Punch him. Stab him in the gut.

“Yes,” Zuko said, and the edge of Jet’s smirk, all Sokka could see from this position, looked
like the head of a snake, waiting to devour.

Jet pushed forward, crowding Zuko against the wall and gripping his jaw lightly as he leaned
in and kissed him.

So, everything Sokka had said to himself and to Zuko, about how he would be okay with him
being with other people? That was apparently a big fat lie, and he just wanted Jet to die. The
feeling was so strong it was frightening enough to shock him back to reality a bit. A reality
where killing people for making out with your friends was not an acceptable thing to do, or
something he would ever actually indulge in. He would punch a lot of walls later, and maybe
have a good cry, but murder was not on the agenda.

He felt like he might be trying to convince himself of that rather than feeling it on some gut
level, which was a little disturbing.

Jet’s body was fully pressed against Zuko’s. Sokka tried not to remember what that felt like.
Tried not to recall the moaning sound Zuko had made when they had kissed. That low,
desperate noise.

As he watched, he saw one of Zuko’s pale hands snake out and grab Jet by the hair, pulling
him back with a bunch of the muscles in his arm, and then almost too quick to register, he
spun Jet around, switching their positions and slamming the taller boy back against the wall.
Then he resumed the kiss with an intensity that had Jet’s eyes wide. Or maybe that was just
surprise at being so easily manhandled.

Whatever it was, Sokka had never been so turned on in his life. It was deeply embarrassing,
and he had a hand pushed against his erection without really registering how it had got there.

That was... a lot. When Zuko went for something, he didn’t go by half measures. That was
one of the reasons Sokka had turned him down. And yet, he was still as surprised at Zuko
taking control of things as Jet seemed to be. And full of a jealousy so strong he felt sick with
it.

Then Zuko pushed back. He looked like he was breathing fast. They both did. Sokka was too,
although he didn’t have half the excuse.

“Stop. I... this isn’t what I want,” Zuko said. Like fucking music to Sokka’s ears.

Jet stayed where he was, leaning back against the wall and breathing hard. He looked ruffled,
turned on, and annoyingly attractive. But he lowered his arms. No threat. Probably a wise
move. Zuko looked like his brain was translating his stressed emotions into ‘fight’.
“No problem,” Jet said mildly, “But it kind of felt like you did want it.”

“I do. But I don’t. Sorry.” Zuko sounded cross and confused and a little hurt.

“So your obvious interest in me is what? To make Sokka jealous?” Jet managed to sound
calm and curious rather than upset. “I can get behind that, if so.”

What a fucking dick.

“No. Sokka told me he’s not interested. I just... I just wanted to...” Zuko seemed to be having
trouble verbalising, and Sokka really, really wanted to know what he thought he had been
doing. An experiment of some kind? Was he lonely? Horny? Trying to prove something to
himself? Sokka had a horrible suspicion it was that last one.

Jet snorted. “It is obvious to everyone that Sokka is very much interested.”

Embarrassing.

“He said he’s not.” Zuko waved off Jet’s attempt to interject. “I’m not good at understanding
the way people act. So I have to listen to what they say. That’s what he said.”

Jet was watching carefully with narrowed eyes. “Why? Why wouldn’t he be interested? Is
there someone else?”

Zuko shook his head ever so slightly. And Jet raised a hand and laid two fingers on the lower
side of his left cheek. “Because of this?”

Sokka could feel himself flush with anger. How dare he even bring up the scar? Jet could see
people’s weaknesses so easily, their doubts. Sokka wasn’t going to sit and watch any more, if
this was how things were going to go down.

He had to interrupt, but as he moved forward to call out the window, Jet spoke again, “No,”
he said. “Don’t even contemplate that. He wouldn’t, so put it out of your mind. So what is it
that’s standing between you, Li?”

Sokka felt a shiver. He knew something. How, he didn’t know, but he did. He sat frozen, the
fear of what would happen next rooting him to the spot.

“I don’t know,” Zuko said unconvincingly.

“Is it what happened to you?” Even from this distance, Sokka could see Zuko flinch.

Jet reached for him and Zuko slammed him back against the wall hard enough Jet looked
winded for a moment.

“How do you know anything about that? Who told you?”

“No one. It was a guess.” Jet’s voice had that calming tone one used to deal with hysterical
children.
“A guess?”

Jet raised his arms to lay his hands on Zuko’s wrists. “Sometimes I can go into a room, and I
know which man is a predator. The way they act with others, the way they look at me, look at
Smellerbee. I don’t know what it is, I just know.” He shrugged. “Sometimes it’s the same
with people who have been through those things too. Like to like, I figure.”

“I don’t understand what you mean. You can see it on me?”

Sokka thought he understood. Jet was implying he had suffered something similar. Could
pick up on small behaviours, perhaps things that hinted at Zuko’s specific trauma. He was
torn, because on one hand, it might be good for Zuko to speak to someone else who had
survived what he had, but on the other, if Jet didn’t explain himself better—clear and upfront,
in the next five seconds, Zuko was going to explode.

“You behave a little how I did after someone hurt me,” Jet said. Thankfully, taking the
straightforward route. It wasn’t that Sokka wouldn’t like to see him get punched, it was if the
punching came with fire that it would be a problem. “And I’ve seen your scars,” Jet added.
“We camped together for a while. It was inevitable I put it together.”

“Can everyone tell?”

“No! No one else, just me. And only because... I guess I look for it? For people whose stories
are similar to my own in that way.”

Zuko had his arms wrapped around himself and Jet leant forward, pushing their foreheads
together in a move that made the jealousy in Sokka’s body throb. And also something else...
even deeper, darker—envy perhaps? A different flavour of jealousy. Jet was just so good at
this. He had picked up that behaviour of Zuko’s from observing him, the way he showed his
affection for Sokka without words.

“There is nothing to be ashamed of, Li.”

Sokka pulled in a breath. All of this might be worth it, all of Sokka’s suffering over this
horrible conversation, if Jet could pull this off. If he could make Zuko feel even a little better
about things.

“I feel ashamed,” Zuko muttered.

Jet nodded. “Should I be? For what happened to me?”

Zuko said nothing.

Jet touched his unscarred cheek. “You have nothing to be ashamed of. I don’t care what
happened, or how or why. The man that hurt you? He’s the one who should be ashamed. He
deserves nothing but death.”

Zuko moved away, resting his forehead against the stone of the building. Jet didn’t press him.
Sokka might have disliked Jet to a significant degree, but he was good at this. His ability to
read people combined with whatever trauma he himself had experienced gave him the skill to
deal with this situation. As long as he didn’t use it to cause harm, it might be good for Zuko,
offer him something Sokka couldn’t.

Of course, if he did use it as a tool to manipulate, Sokka would kill him. Actually kill him,
and he wouldn’t even feel guilty.

“What happened to you?” Zuko asked, a little tactless.

Jet shrugged. “I’d lost everything. My home, my family, my faith in people. I thought there
was nothing left to take except my life.”

“But you were wrong.”

“Yeah. I was young, vulnerable, stupid. But that doesn’t mean I should feel guilty. He should.
And he got what he deserved.”

“Did you kill him?”

“Yeah. It took a while to get there. I had never killed before. And he taught me stuff. How to
read and write. But when I could, as soon as I could, I took him out.”

“Good.”

“Listen, Li.” Jet moved in again and Zuko let him. “You don’t want to take things further
than this? That’s fine. But you and me? We understand each other. We’re a great team and I
want to take that wherever it leads us. At your pace. You okay with that?”

Zuko was quiet for an uncomfortably long time as he thought it over. “Yeah. Okay.”

Hmm. Yeah, no. Jet may have been good at people, but he was missing some rather important
information here and Sokka suspected Zuko’s reticence was because he knew that. He was
dense, not stupid.

“I’m going to bed,” Zuko said abruptly, slipping past Jet and heading for the house.

Sokka flopped back onto his covers. He felt wrung out and undone. And he had probably
minutes to figure out what to do.

He opted to pretend he was asleep. A very mature choice.

Zuko said nothing as he came into the room, and Sokka could hear rustling as he got ready
for bed. He had to work hard not to picture what Zuko was doing. Spirits, he really needed
some space to process before he took any action, but he also couldn’t bear not to deal with
this now.

In his mind’s eye, shirtless Zuko stretched, before putting a new top on, and Sokka watched
the play of muscles with a hunger that frightened him. He was startled out of his fantasy
when the real Zuko slid under the covers with him.

“Are you awake?” Zuko asked, voice a quiet rasp in the dark.

“Yeah.”

“This window overlooks where we were,” he sounded a little agonised. “How much did you
see?”

“All of it.”

“Oh.” Zuko was quiet a moment. He seemed upset. “So now you know,” he said at last.

Now he knew what? Sokka turned over. Instead of the staring he was expecting, Zuko was
avoiding eye contact.

“I certainly learnt some stuff,” Sokka said. “But I’m not sure exactly what you mean.”

“That I’m like that.” Zuko covered his eyes with his hands. “With men.”

Sokka had to take a moment to breathe calmly and to not laugh hysterically. “Zuko, I picked
that up from when we were kissing, remember? How is it you’re trying to hide the fact you
like boys from me, a boy that you kissed?” He shook his head. “You are so ridiculous.”
Sokka leaned over and tugged his hands. It was a battle to get them down, but they finally
revealed a sad, pouty face with slightly swollen lips. Kiss bitten. The thought sent another
bolt of heat and jealousy through him. He held onto Zuko’s hand.

Be straightforward.

“That’s old news, you thick headed moron.” He pushed the stolen fingers against his lips to
take the sting out of his words.

“But that was just with you. This is different, this is with other boys.”

“Doesn’t bother me. Well, actually that’s kind of not true—but not in the way you mean!
What I learnt is I was wrong about my feelings. I was so jealous watching you and Jet. I
could have killed him.”

“So, what?”

Angry face was not what Sokka was expecting, so he just held onto Zuko’s hand and waited.
Zuko shoved him over so he could switch positions and attempt to loom. Very typical
defensive Zuko behaviour. “I’m not allowed to kiss anyone else because you get jealous? But
you don’t want me either?”.

Spirits above. “No, I mean I do want you. If you want me. I always did. I’m just… I’m just
scared I’m not ready to... That I can’t give you everything you want.” He finished, a little
pathetic.
“You do?” He looked hopeful, annoyed, confused. And Sokka wanted to kiss him so bad. But
he held himself back. They had to talk things out first.

“Yeah.” He reached out and brushed some of the hair away from Zuko’s forehead. It just
flopped back, but he liked the way it felt. His hair was thick, and although it was sweaty and
a little grubby, it felt nice against Sokka’s fingers.

“So what does this mean?” Zuko asked. His voice was still cross, but his face looked full of
different feelings. It had been a bit of an emotional night for him. For both of them.

“What do you want?” Sokka asked him. “You still seem a little conflicted.”

Zuko chewed his lip. And Sokka realised that there was perhaps more here than he had
thought. His instinct for danger was pinging with the look behind Zuko’s eyes, and he had to
take a moment to consider what was setting it off. No threat to himself. So. Something else in
that expression.

“I’ve been going out with Jet at night,” Zuko said, still with the distant something in his eyes.
“To do some good for the city, but also to see if I can get news of my uncle. If I actively look,
then Azula might come after us. I can take her-”

Sokka doubted that.

“-But she could really hurt the others. You. So I’ve been trying to look carefully.”

That showed a surprising amount of self-restraint. But Sokka suspected it wasn’t only
because of his concerns for their safety. He thought there was a level of fear there, too. He
wanted to find his uncle to make sure he was okay, but didn’t want to see him. Didn’t want to
risk him finding out the things that had happened. Didn’t want to feel that shame.

“Must be tough, your sister being here,” Sokka said cautiously. This was the flash point, he
thought. Zuko had not really talked about what must be very complicated feelings.

Zuko looked at him with a sharp gaze that was almost fervent. “I can’t stop thinking about it.
She lies to me all the time, but could he have turned against her? Is it possible? Why else
would she have done all the things she has done if not!” His fists were clenched and he was
leaning forward, almost threateningly, although Sokka knew he was safe.

“Are you worried about her?”

“I don’t know! I...Yes, I am, but also I’m glad she knows what that’s like... I don’t know.” He
reached up and tugged at his hair. “And there’s... I thought it didn’t matter who I was
anymore. If I did shameful things, like … be with someone I want to be with. But if she’s not
heir to the throne...” He trailed off, his gold eyes looked dark in the faint light, but the fevered
light in them was bright.

He couldn’t seriously be seeing this as an opportunity to return home? Sokka had kind of
thought they were past that.
The realisation that this had been banging around Zuko’s thick skull for the past week
without Sokka realising was too terrifying to contemplate.

He had the powerful urge to remind Zuko that his father had ordered his death and had also
made a pretty good previous effort to kill him that had resulted in a permanent facial
mutilation. But that wasn’t the way to go. Fuck, but Sokka should get a medal for keeping his
shit together this evening.

“We don’t know if it’s true,” he said carefully. “And if it is, we don’t know why. Might be he
would welcome a new heir. Or he might have made other plans.”

“He doesn’t have any other children.”

This was going to suck. “You sure about that?” Sokka sat himself up and leant against the
wall behind their bed. “He’s what, middle-aged? Still young enough to sire more kids. And
he’s a king. I doubt he was faithful to the marriage bed. Maybe there’s a strapping young
bastard he has in mind.”

Zuko shoved him hard, knocking him sideways, even though he had been kind of braced for
it. If his eyes were bright before, they were blazing now. “No! He wouldn’t have done that to
my mother!”

From what he had picked up, Sokka was pretty sure he had killed Zuko’s mother, so he was
not likely to be that fussed about his own fidelity to the marriage bed. “Okay, if you say so,”
he soothed. “I didn’t mean any slight to your mother. But don’t make assumptions here, they
could get you killed. Could get Azula killed too, maybe. We need to learn more before we
take any action.”

“We? It’s not your problem, Sokka.”

Sokka clicked his tongue. “Your blood is my blood. That goes both ways, Sunshine. Your
problems are my problems.” He wasn’t taking responsibility for his deranged family, though.

Zuko just stared at him full of naked emotions and conflicted, needy something.

Sokka sighed. “So, what do you want between us? Things to carry on as they were? Or things
to carry on as they were, with maybe more kissing? Between us, not Jet, just so we’re clear.”

Zuko took a moment to think about that, then moved in so fast and aggressive it made Sokka
jump. Zuko stopped, leaning forward precariously, and seeming suddenly unsure. It made
him look very silly and so adorable, Sokka’s whole chest tightened like his lungs were broken
again. He grinned and reached forward, tugging him the last little way so their lips could
meet.

Naturally, as soon as he was sure of himself, Zuko took things from zero to one hundred,
pulling Sokka closer with a grip in the hair at the back of his head, and the other hand tugging
him bodily into his personal space. Sokka could admit he rather enjoyed that manhandling.
Zuko breathed out hard through his nose, the rush of air hot against Sokka’s face, and opened
his mouth, inviting. Sokka took him up on it with a rush of lust, deepening the kiss with the
same thrill he’d felt before. It was strange, for a moment, different. He pulled back.

“Let go of your inner fire or whatever you’re doing. I’m not Jet. No need to hide it.”

Zuko hummed, eyes half shut and an intent expression on his face. Sokka could feel the rush
of heat against his skin as he stopped doing whatever the trick Tu had taught him was. When
they kissed again, it felt right. Hot, like being burnt up, intense enough to feel dizzy with it.
He felt like he was trying to lick the taste of Jet out of Zuko’s mouth, and the thought was
simultaneously disturbing and arousing.

Zuko made a desperate, needy noise just like he had before, although this time, he was
pushing Sokka down onto the bed and leaning his heavy weight flush against him. Sokka had
to resist the urge to grind upwards.

Having Zuko lying between his legs like this was too much, suddenly, and he shoved him
back a little. Zuko’s mouth was wet with spit and he looked beautiful in a way Sokka
couldn’t believe he had not been seeing during all the time they had spent together.

“Need a break,” he said. And to his relief, Zuko immediately rolled to the side, almost
crushing Sokka’s dick with a wicked sharp hip bone in the process. Sokka made a very
undignified noise and curled up a bit, trying to catch his breath and protect all his squishy bits
from another attack. Zuko was just lying looking at the ceiling, though. His breath coming
fast.

“Okay?” Sokka asked.

“Yeah. You?”

“I’m good. I just… I just need to take things slow, you understand? For me.”

“Yeah. But you...you want this to be a thing, right?” Zuko was chewing his lip, looking
unsure again. Sokka remembered what he had said to Jet; he knew he couldn’t read people
very well all the time, so he relied on listening to what they said. Ugh words about feelings.

“Yes,” he said decisively. “Exclusive. No one else for either of us. But just slow. I’m not
ready for sex.” he flushed. He hated having to be so blunt. “But I like kissing you, and I want
to be...” He flapped a hand, looking for words. “Like this.”

Sokka thought Zuko relaxed a bit. He probably wasn’t anywhere ready for sex, either. Just
pushing his boundaries, trying to ‘fix’ himself. “Come here.” He tugged Zuko over, so his
head was on Sokka’s shoulder, a heavy arm across his chest.

Sokka was glad he had already made this decision before the revelations of Zuko’s potential
family drama, otherwise he might have to second guess his own motives. He had always said
Zuko had to make his choices based on an understanding of what was the right thing to do,
not because of Sokka. But he couldn’t help feeling like he was tipping the scales here, giving
him something he wanted to tempt him. And worse, Sokka wasn’t sure it was the wrong thing
to do. The risk of losing him back to the vicious jaws of his evil family was far greater than
Sokka had realised, and he would do a lot more than be a manipulative bastard to prevent it
from happening.

“Are you okay?” Zuko asked again, breaking the silence and interrupting Sokka’s downward
spiral into doubt.

“Me? Sure.” Now he wasn’t full of jealousy, anyway. Now he had Zuko relaxed in his bed.
The thought made him flush. Spirits. His body and brain were confused.

Zuko poked him. “You’ve been angry since the fall of the city.”

Oh, he was talking in general, not just about the boyfriend thing. “No I haven’t.” Zuko was
the one who had been in a fit of emotional chaos the whole time.

“You have!” Zuko’s pointy finger was digging into his ribs.

Had he? Sokka didn’t want to examine the feeling in his chest. He knew what it was, and it
wasn’t anger.

Zuko was looking up at him from where he was still resting his head. His expression was
sharp. “Your dad and I had a talk once.”

“Oh?” Terrifying prospect.

”Yeah. He was upset you were angry with him. And I...” He looked suddenly uncertain.

“And you what?”

“I tried to explain why you might have felt like that.” Sokka nodded for him to continue. “I
told him for me, at least, when I was most angry it was because I felt shame.”

For someone who was frequently shit at reading people when he did get it right, it was brutal.

Because he was correct. All this rage was because of shame. Of guilt. They had failed to see
the Earth King and the whole of Ba Sing Se, the whole Earth Kingdom had been brought to
its knees because of it.

“You don’t have to feel ashamed,” Zuko said.

“I do.”

“We’ll fix it, okay?” He leant up on one elbow and looked down at Sokka, the shadows
making his face soft. “We can’t change what happened, but we can fix it.”

“How?”

“I know where the Earth King is being held. We can go break him out.”

Sokka wet his lips. They felt a little full and tingly from the kisses. “You have a plan?”
 “Yeah.”

“Well? What is it?”

Zuko made a pouty, slightly sheepish face. “We break him out.”

“That’s the whole plan?” Sokka huffed a laugh into the dark. “Well, it’s a start, I guess.”

Chapter End Notes

Next chapter:
Everything was getting a little too comfortable...
Tu discovers some secrets. Kazuma is faced with some challenges, Shen has a no good,
very bad day, and Azula isn’t having a super one either. Meanwhile, Sokka and Zuko
discover some stuff, work through a few issues, and start plotting some action.

Incidentally, my chapter holder note for 40 was ‘Sokka admits he is jealous and Zuko
drops Jet so fast its embarrassing for everyone’

Some awesome people shared some art!

saturated-silences shared this amazing picture of The Tent Scene

Here

utter-dismae shared this awesome pic with and without colour

Here
Here

And the lovely smallsinger5901 shared some more wonderful art!

Here

Please give them some love!

(If I have accedently missed you out please let me know!)

 Chapter 41
Chapter Summary

Sokka grimaced at her. “Don’t make me break the blanket fort rules again.”

Chapter Notes

Many thanks to my beta burkesl17, who has managed to wrangle my dyslexic nonsense.
All mistakes are my own.

Sorry if I have missed anything out - I have gone on holiday for 4 days and its so bloody
hot I might die. (having a lovely time though!)

Warnings:
Oh look, theres a bunch of them this chapter! Torture, abuse, violence, vague threats of
non-con, non consensual nudity, non sexual but sexually threatening touching? I’m not
sure how to cover this one – so if we just say non-consensual situations. (if you think
something more specific is needed let me know) It is brief, explicit, but not graphic. (no
actual sex of any kind)

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Shen still wasn’t sure if his dinner date with Kazuma had been a complete failure or not. He
hadn’t returned for him, or provided the promised dumplings, which had been on Shen’s
mind almost constantly since he had eaten that bowl of meat and vegetables. It was worse,
somehow, having eaten real food and seen sunlight. It made the longing so much more
intense. He might be willing to do almost anything, give anything, to get another taste.
Except betray his people, or the general. That wasn’t going to happen, no matter the
temptation.

So he just sat and thought about it. Driving himself mad with dreams of comfort.

When the guard finally returned for him, it was almost a surprise.

“Good luck,” the general said, giving him a pat as he rose to make his way to the cell door.
Chao grimaced sympathetically. He didn’t think Shen should be doing this, was worried
about him. But someone had to do something.

“Turn around,” the guard said, and bound Shen’s hands tightly. He had a different expression
on his face this time, one of mild disgust maybe? Or something else? Had he overheard
Shen’s discussion with Kazuma? Or was the captain just deluding himself that people were
unaware of his interests?

As they moved away from the cells, they were joined by a second guard, a hard-looking man
with some grey at his temples and cold eyes. They led him deeper into the maze of corridors
where the air felt damper. Shen was getting a bad feeling.

“Where are we going?” he asked, not really expecting an answer.

“Shut up,” Cold Eyes said from behind him, and something struck him across the shoulders,
painful and unexpected, making him yell in surprise.

“What the fuck was that for?” he asked, trying to twist himself around so he could see the
guy.

“You want another?”

“No, not particularly. But I’m doing what I’m told, no need for violence.”

“Doing what you’re told involves shutting up.”

Shen briefly toyed with arguing about it—the shut up instruction had come after the hitting.
But he was getting a really bad feeling, and he felt he should hold on before upping the
antagonising. Because what was going on here? Were these guys just being dicks because
they could, had Kazuma told them to frighten him? Or was this something worse somehow?

He knew it was something worse as soon as he entered the room he had been led to. It was
dark and damp. The light from the single lit torch was reflecting threateningly from the nasty-
looking hook dangling from the ceiling and there was a table with unpleasant objects on it.
Shen’s heart rate sped up, and he dug in his bare heels, trying to resist the inevitable as they
dragged him closer to the centre of the room.

Cold Eyes didn’t seem the type to put up with nonsense, and he drew a knife, holding it level
with Shen’s stomach. “Do as you are told and you might leave this room with your life.
Don’t, and die slow from a gut wound.”

“Well, when you put it like that.” Shen was desperately trying to keep the fear out of his
voice, but he doubted he managed it. He allowed himself to be strung up like a side of meat,
because what else could he do? His chances of surviving this were looking slim, but they
were none if he got knifed.

“Very good.”

Shen jerked slightly as he realised there was a third man in the room.

“You may go,” the man told the original guard, then flicked a finger at another lamp, lighting
it with a darting flame that made something in Shen’s gut clench.

This new guy was older, tall, well built, and there was something very predatory in the way
he was looking at Shen, in the way he moved as he stepped forward into the lamplight. “Strip
him,” he said.

Cold Eyes stepped forward. He used a knife to cut away Shen’s shirt, then just yanked his
prison-issue pants off him in one motion, leaving them pooled around his ankles. Shen
shivered, both at the cold on his skin, and with fear. He didn’t know who these people were
or why he was here, but things were about to get pretty unpleasant for him. He had to keep
calm to make sure his reactions kept him alive and as safe as possible. He had to keep it
together.

The unknown man made a noise, staring at Shen’s chest for a moment before meeting his
eyes. “Interesting,” he said.

“Interesting? You want to share why?” Shen asked, staring back at him. “Or tell me why I’m
here? I haven’t done anything wrong.” He yanked at the chains for a moment, fighting a rush
of fear and anger. “Who even are you?”

“Hmm,” the man said, stepping forward and selecting a thin cane from the table of unpleasant
items. “This is intriguing. I had wanted to speak to you about a particular matter. However-”
he broke off and poked what was left of Shen’s right nipple with his stick. Then he ran it up
the scars on the underside of his raised arms.

“If you’ve got questions, just fucking ask me,” Shen snarled, hoping he didn’t sound as
unnerved as he felt. He was used to being naked in front of people, the army didn’t have any
room for modesty. This was very different, and he felt so completely off kilter it was hard to
focus.

“Stay still or I will hurt you. I won’t warn you again,” the man said. Then he used his stick to
move Shen’s penis out of the way and leant forward slightly to inspect his balls.

“The fuck are you doing?” Shen attempted to move his hips to the side and kick out with his
legs but the trousers still bunched around his ankles hampered him and he just ended up
swinging his body slightly.

The man clicked his tongue and backhanded him so hard he saw stars for a moment.

“I told you not to move.”

Shen blinked through the disorientation. He could feel his nose start to bleed, but he didn’t
think any teeth had been loosened. He turned his head back just in time to see the guy putting
on what looked like a leather glove.

What the fuck was happening?

He tried struggling again, but the guy used his gloved hand to grab his genitals and squeeze.
The pain was sudden, excruciating and nauseating and he was sure if he wasn’t in agony he
might be embarrassed by the noises he was making. His body wanted to curl up, to protect
himself, but he couldn’t do more than hunch slightly. He wanted to scream, but he threw up
instead. There wasn’t much, just a sad string of bile.
“Now behave,” the man said, stepping behind him and continuing his investigation, first
running the stick down his inner thigh, then parting the cheeks of his arse. Although it was
only brief and with minimal touching, the intense fear Shen was feeling doubled. Oh fuck, he
wasn’t sure he was going to be able to cope with this.

“This is interesting,” the man said again, stepping back into view while Shen continued to
gasp through the pain and fright. He stripped off his glove with what looked like mild
distaste. “My former first lieutenant was a man with very particular appetites.”

“Okay,” Shen managed, although his voice sounded strangled rather than the scornful he was
going for.

“He did my…wet work, shall we say, to my specifications, but left to his own devices he
always stuck to the same pattern. A strange set of behaviours. He would start with burning
the soft skin of the arms, then mutilate one or both nipples. Before moving to the genital area,
the thighs and anus. Sometimes that might progress to rape. After which, the victim would
usually then be strangled.”

And this was okay with you? Shen wanted to ask, but he kept his mouth shut, concentrating
on getting himself back under control.

The man tapped Shen’s ruined nipple again. “I recognise his work.”

“Oh,” Shen said, wrestling with multiple emotions and realisations. This must be Ro’s
superior. The admiral, who himself tortured and sexually assaulted sixteen-year-olds. With
knowledge came both renewed fear and the understanding of what that bastard Ro was
planning to do to him. If he had not been ‘rescued’ by Kazuma, that’s how he would have
died. It was weirdly shocking, disorientating.

Then came the realisation that some of his men might have met that fate in his stead, and he
felt like he might vomit again.

“When did you meet him?” Admiral Zhao asked, like Shen had hung out with the fucker at a
tavern or met him for tea. “And what is your name?”

Shen had to think his way through the fear and the pain and grief. He had to tread very
carefully, but his mind was just spinning, tearing away all coherent thought, so he closed his
eyes for a moment and said nothing.

“Hisao,” Zhao said, and something struck Shen across the shoulders. The pain was shocking.
A white line of radiating agony. Rattan cane, he thought, an instrument that was apparently
shared between their two nations. The next blow struck the back of his thighs. He’d seen
flesh split and fly with a bad caning, and he just couldn’t afford to be that injured if by some
slim chance he survived this encounter.

“Okay! Fuck sake, give me a moment, you bastard!”

“Watch your tongue. You might lose it.”

Shen tipped his head back, tasting blood from his nose. What did the man want? Zuli
presumably. Shen had no idea if his connection to the kid was known, or if this arsehole was
just fishing. Best to play it dumb. “My name is Lieutenant Li. I met Ro when he captured my
unit. He was interrupted, and I was taken to East Lake.”

“And you escaped from there during the raid?”

“Yeah, I ran. No idea what happened to my unit.” He paused and wet his lips. Keep it simple
and as close to the truth as possible. “I came here, got turned in as a deserter. Been in jail
since. I don’t know what you want from me.” The chains holding his wrists were beginning
to bite into flesh. He tugged a little, trying to focus on that pain rather than the hideous
pounding ache from his balls.

“I see. And the captain of your unit? What happened to him?”

“He was captured with us. This other captain took him away, though.”

“What was his name?”

“Captain Kazuma.”

“Your captain’s name, you idiot.” Zhao slapped his stick against his leg with impatience, his
eyes narrowing dangerously. The damp air felt like it was getting colder by the second,
despite the presence of the firebenders in the room with him.

“Captain Shen.” Zhao clearly had some information. Shen just didn’t know how much.

“A common name.”

Shen nodded a little stupidly. “Yeah, there’s three of ‘em in my cell alone. Two Li’s as well.”

Zhao breathed out in obvious annoyance. “I really don’t give a shit about your primitive
naming practices. Describe him to me.”

Like Li wasn’t a common name in the Fire Nation as well. “Tall. Older than me, skin and
eyes a bit lighter.” He attempted a shrug and grinned through the blood dripping down his
face. “Good looking.”

Zhao gave him another annoyed glance, and Shen resisted the urge to spit at him.

“You don’t care you’re selling him out?” Zhao asked.

“What harm can it do? I’m in here. Fuck knows where he is. I don’t even know if he survived
East Lake. He was there on the raid. With the Blue Spirit.”

“And what did you see of the Blue Spirit?”

Shen shifted his weight, trying to find a more comfortable position. His arms were really
beginning to ache, adding to the rest of the pains. “Not much. I was too busy running like my
arse was on fire.”
Zhao looked contemplative. He stepped back towards the table of horrible things, but rather
than pick up something nasty, he went for what looked to be a cup of wine and took a sip.

Bastard.

“So then, tell me what Captain Kazuma wanted with you.”

Zhao’s face was intent. This was why he was really here, the stuff about Ro had been
incidental. “He questioned me about the Blue Spirit,” Shen said. He didn’t think that would
come as a surprise to Zhao.

“Hmm. And that’s all?” His gaze ran down Shen’s body suggestively, although without any
particular interest.

So at least one person suspected Kazuma’s desires ran toward men. Although this piece of
shit could hardly take a moral high ground, even with their stupid Fire Nation laws. Shen had
no loyalty to Kazuma, and he would happily throw him to the wolves to save his own skin,
but he would rather avoid handing anyone over to this man, given his track record, and would
also prefer not to give Zhao anything he wanted at all, ever. “Yeah. That was all.”

“So he didn’t proposition you?”

“No? Why would he? Look at me, I stink.”

Zhao paced a step closer, eyes narrow with threat. “He didn’t take what he wanted by force?”

What was he angling for with these questions?

“Answer me, dirt rat.” He struck Shen across the face again, splitting his lip and making him
see sparks. The guy had a serious back hand.

“No, he didn’t! What do you want?”

Zhao stepped close to him, very close, and Shen resisted the urge to cringe.

“I will ask again. Did Kazuma proposition you? Did he perhaps offer you favours in return
for certain lewd acts? Did he threaten to take what he wanted by force?”

“No,” Shen said stubbornly. Although it was clear that was not the answer Zhao wanted. The
admiral frowned and flicked a finger at his henchman. Shen braced himself, but the strike
from the cane still shocked a noise from him. He was getting really tired of people hitting
him with sticks.

“We can do this all day,” Zhao said conversationally. “You have choices, though. If you are
willing to stand up in court and admit what he did to you, then I might arrange your freedom.
If you refuse, then I will make you regret it.” He smiled unpleasantly. “And we have all the
time in the world to change your mind.”

Shen spat blood on the floor and closed his eyes. He had no loyalty to Kazuma, but it seemed
deeply unjust that he would be accused of a crime this bastard was actually guilty of.
“And let me be clear. If you do not stand up in court and admit what happened to you with
words, I will make sure the physical evidence matches the accusations.”

Shen felt the end of the rattan cane run down his spine, mercifully stopping at the base. But
the threat was clear enough and made the fear shake its way through his limbs.

“You may be shamed by what I’m asking, but that will be nothing compared to the shame of
the act itself,” Zhao said.

Shen took some breaths. There was no way any of this was going to end well for him. Be
tortured and die now, or later. It was inevitable. “Sure. I’ll do what you want. Whatever. I
don’t care about Kazuma’s honour, you’re all contemptuous pigs to me. And I would rather
lie and be free than tell the truth and die like that.”

If this fucker actually made him go to a court, and this wasn’t just some elaborate set up for
Kazuma, then it wasn’t the captain that Shen would tell the officials about. He might not be
believed, but he had enough information that he could at least cause gossip to ruin the
admiral’s reputation somewhat. If he was going to be tortured to death, he was going to make
it worth his while.

“A very sensible man.” Zhao reached forward and patted his cheek. Then looked at his hand
with some disgust. Perhaps he didn’t touch Earth commoners without his glove on. Shen was
going to have nightmares about that glove for many nights to come.

“We will speak again. And if you back out, the mess I will make of you? Your own mother
won’t recognise you.”

“I doubt she would, anyway. But I’ll bear that in mind.”

“Hisao, I will leave it to you to show Lieutenant Li how serious we are about these things.
Nothing permanent. I need him able to talk and move under his own power.”

Shen had really been looking forward to eating the dumplings Kazuma had promised. He had
been thinking of little else since they had last met. But he was pretty sure it wasn’t worth this,
and he cursed Kazuma’s name for inadvertently getting him involved in whatever this was.

Although he spent the next hour wishing desperately for the uptight little bastard to come and
rescue him again.

He was not so lucky this time.

Shen’s walk back to the cell was slow and painful. It could have been a lot worse, though. A
lot worse. At least they had not followed through on the more unpleasant threats, so some
amount of dignity was left intact, although it was hard to feel grateful when his body was
hurting the way it was. He was pretty sure his chances of ever fathering children had been
reduced, at the very least. It certainly felt that way.
He must have looked a state, shuffling and pathetic. People muttered and looked at him
fearfully as he passed. No doubt wondering if he was just the unlucky first and they might be
next. His shirt had been beyond saving, leaving the damage clear. At least he had his pants
back. It was good to be spared the humiliation of being returned to the cell naked.

By the look on his friend’s faces, they might have jumped to some conclusions about the
nature of his hurts, but he couldn’t quite get the breath to correct them as he slid carefully
into his usual spot. Bending to sit hurt. The act of sitting hurt. His buttocks and thighs had
taken some damage, but he couldn’t lie on his front because it felt like his balls might fall off.
He kind of wished they would just for relief from the pain.

“Fuck, Shen,” Chao said. His weathered face was sad and angry in equal measures.

The general’s facial hair was growing back thick and full, but it didn’t hide the hard lines of
his mouth as they pulled down into a furious frown. “I will see that bastard die for this. One
way or another,” he said. Although he was planning to achieve that was anyone’s guess.

Shen shook his head, still feeling dazed.

The general breathed out a great sigh. “I know it might not be something you want to… dwell
on,” he began carefully. “But if there are…intimate injuries, we need to try to tend them. To
prevent infection.” His face looked ludicrously uncomfortable.

“No,” Shen managed. “Nothing like that. Wasn’t Kazuma, was some other bastard.” He took
some deep gulps of air through the aching pain. “Just roughed me up.”

The general frowned at him again. “Are you telling me the truth? You must be honest, put
aside any shame.”

“Yeah. Truth. Leave me alone a moment. I’ll be okay.”

“Alright, but have some water first.”

He allowed them to help him drink, then lay his head back on his arm. There was only so
much time to wallow in his misery. He would need to pull himself together quickly. Try to
figure out his options. Could he get word to Kazuma? Did he want to?

He felt a little too pathetic to think it through. Instead, he felt a deep pang of homesickness.
Not for any particular place, but for his unit. The army. The family who had betrayed him, in
the end.

He had a very strange moment of feeling intense resentment towards Zuli, for his part in
things, but it was coupled with an equally intense longing. He missed the little shit something
fierce, and Sokka and Suki too. They were the reason to keep fighting. He didn’t have
anything else left. He knew those feelings of bitterness were because of the pain and fear, and
the humiliation of losing his rank. But his choices that had led him to that point, to this point,
had been his own. He could hardly place any blame on an injured, traumatised kid for his
own attachment to him.
What had Zuli said to him, right back at the beginning? ‘I’m in charge of my own destiny, my
own choices. Even the stupid ones.’ That had stuck with him. He could relate to it.

He didn’t know what was going to happen next. He didn’t know which one would get him
first. He was frightened it would be Zhao, that there would be more of this, or worse. Would
he have to go to court? And if he did, would he hold his nerve and tell them what kind of man
the admiral really was, or would they apply pressure first? There were things, threats, that
might force him to change his mind. If they threatened Chao, or if the general was at risk of
discovery? Then, unfortunately, he might have to sacrifice Kazuma, although he didn’t really
deserve it. He would have to sacrifice whatever scraps were left of his own dignity and
integrity, too. And that truly frightened him.

How had everything led to this? The despair hit him in a wave, and he pushed his face into
his arm so the general couldn’t see his tears.

……………….

It was really a little late to have a freak out, with Zuko’s arm wrapped around Sokka’s chest,
and his sleeping breaths gentle against the skin of his neck, the feel of his kisses still
lingering.

But Sokka was apparently going to have one anyway.

Part of his mind was rather belatedly gibbering about the fact that he was now romantically
involved with Zuko. Both as the demented arsehole who had chased them across the world,
and also just a member of the Fire Nation. The Fire Nation royal family. Spirits above and
below. He really had never considered this to be an option. He was used to ignoring that fact,
pushing it out of his mind to the extent that his brain was apparently late to catch up and
panic about this.

Also on the meltdown list was the lack of a future where they were both happy. Even with the
war won, there were going to be some significant logistical problems.

Even with all of that, his freakout was perhaps not as epic as it could be. He could go back to
denial shortly once he was over the shock of the change in their relationship. The real issue
was lurking beneath it. This was going to be a lot of work. Keeping Zuko’s head on straight,
making sure he wasn’t going to do anything stupid (already a daily ordeal), but now Sokka
also had to make certain he wasn’t turning back to his evil ways. Plus, he had to continue his
education as to why Zuko’s whole nation was wrong and fucked up.

Sokka stared up at the darkness and resisted the urge to groan. He was also going to have to
work on the reassuring Zuko that their relationship wasn’t wrong or fucked up. He hadn’t
forgotten those comments Zuko had made, the ones about being ‘sick’ and the way he had
related that to the boat. Whatever happened between them, he needed to keep an eye on
things, even though Zuko seemed happy to make out with him (and Jet, yuk) those fucked up
feelings were clearly still there. Sokka needed more information. He missed Shen so sharp
and fierce right then, although if his friend actually knew anything about the Fire Nation’s
relationship with men loving men, well, that was anyone’s guess. At least he could get some
advice. Anything really, so it wasn’t just Sokka struggling in the dark.

He ran his fingers gently through Zuko’s hair. It was starting to look a little shaggy—very
cute. It would look even better with a Water Tribe undercut, but Sokka wasn’t sure he felt
right about asking if he wanted one again, even as a joke.

Seeing as he was already wallowing in introspection and dread, he decided to have a brief
peek at the other problem playing on his mind. Their relationship. The physical side of
things. He had the fear of Zuko being pushy, of going faster than he was ready for and
hurting them both in the process. Sokka chewed his lip, as he struggled to formulate what he
was actually worrying about. He thought about what Shen might say if he asked for help.

“Are you afraid to stand up to Zuli?” Fake Shen said. “Because didn’t I see you giving him a
lecture about cultural sensitivity just the other day? Even though he was arguing back, you
still stood your ground.”

He was right of course, Sokka wasn’t, had never, been afraid to tell him he was wrong or
being a dick.

“I don’t want to hurt him,” imaginary Sokka said.

“How many times have you laid shit out for him, blunt but kind? You can wrap up a ‘no’ so
nice it barely stings at all.”

It would be tough, he would have to think carefully, but he could probably make sure that any
refusal would not be taken as a slight against his looks or whatever. That was true enough.

So what was the issue?

“You’re the issue,” fake Shen said. His smile looked more like a smirk and Sokka forced his
eyes open to banish him.

But he was right, Sokka was right, with that thought. He was afraid he wouldn’t want to say
no when he should, afraid that the heady feelings of arousal and desire and need might
override his common sense. If they both wanted it, why not? Even though he knew it would
be a bad idea for both of them.

What kind of person was he that he couldn’t trust himself? It was the memory of those
feelings he’d had the first time they had kissed that haunted him. How he’d felt when Zuko
submitted to him, the things he had wanted to do in that moment.

Fuck, he needed real Shen to ask about this. Was there something wrong with him? Zuko was
convinced he was sick, but did he have that the wrong way round?

The feelings of misery and sadness persisted into the night. Although eventually he slept, he
dreamed of his mother; her face obscured by fog and her voice hazy and bereft.
Sokka woke groggy. Zuko was staring down at him with a wide eyed and anxious expression.
Had Sokka been talking in his sleep?

Or, actually, was he just afraid that Sokka was going to back out of the whole dating thing?

“Morning, Sunshine.” He forced a smile that relaxed into something closer to a real one, as
some of the tension left Zuko’s body, and he smiled tentatively back.

“Want me to sort out your hair?” Zuko asked, a little husky.

“Sure. Yeah, I would like that.” This really meant something to Zuko, the hair stuff. He
probably should ask for more information on that. He needed to learn the cultural stuff too.

They sat by the window to catch the light while Zuko shaved the short hair on his scalp
carefully and with what felt like the utmost tenderness. The blade moving across his skin, the
warm press of Zuko’s fingers as they held him still made him shudder, in a good way.

“Fuck, Sokka. Don’t do that, I’ll cut you.” Zuko bonked him on the side of the head with the
fist holding the razor.

“Sorry.”

Zuko grumped and grumbled, and Sokka enjoyed the feeling of him brushing the little cut
hairs off his neck. Had it always felt like this? Shivery and almost sizzling between them.

Zuko’s fingertips were still resting on the skin of where his neck met his shoulder, three
points of burning heat. There seemed to be a weirdly long pause going on where Zuko’s brain
was going but his body was frozen. Sokka was happy to wait it out. He contented himself
with thoughts of Jet’s reaction to the new state of play. Yeah, fuck you, arsehole.

“Can I touch you now?” Zuko said suddenly.

“You are literally touching me as we speak,” Sokka grinned a little. His eyes fixed on the sky
barely visible from the window. “So yeah.”

There was a little flair of warmth from the fingers on his skin, like Zuko had just realised he
had abandoned them there. “Yeah…. I mean...” His voice was husky again and Sokka could
feel the heat growing between them as Zuko struggled to verbalise. Although actually, that
was literal heat. The poor boy was probably steaming.

“You can do whatever it is you were thinking of doing, and making yourself insane over.
Except-” Sokka held up an imperious finger. “If that thing is to cruelly mock or torment me.
Or,” he held up another finger, “tickle me.”

“Are you done?”

“Yes. Actually, no. Or if you are planning to snap my neck like a twig.”

“I was going to kiss you on the neck.” Zuko finally moved his hand so he could point to the
neck in question, as though Sokka might be confused about its identity.
“Yes, that would be acceptable,” Sokka said, shivering a little in anticipation.

His lips were hot, like his fingers, and Sokka’s heartbeat rose so it felt like it was going to
stampede out of his chest. How was he going to get through the day like this? The simple
brush of skin was making sparks go off in all of his nerves, and his pants were already getting
tight. And spirits, was that tongue? Zuko was mouthing the skin under his lips, tasting it. It
shouldn’t have been so arousing to feel those open-mouthed kisses. But fuck.

He leaned his head back to rest on Zuko’s shoulder, letting out some kind of half strangled
groan. How was he so good at this? This wasn’t a learned behaviour, it must just be
instinctive. What was he going to be like with practice?

Sokka was going to be destroyed. But right then? Actually, he didn’t mind quite so much. He
turned his head to meet Zuko’s lips for a searing kiss that made his brain swim. Until the
thoughts of more crashed in on him again, and he pulled back, breathing hard for a moment,
acutely aware of Zuko’s body pressed against his back. “Breakfast,” he said in a voice that
was almost unrecognisable.

This was going to be a very particular kind of torture.

Sokka didn’t skip down the stairs or anything, but he must have been wearing some goofy
expression, as Katara got a look on her face as soon as she spotted him. Her gaze moved to
Zuko, who was needlessly tending the fire with a little smile on his lips. It was unspeakably
cute. Distracting.

Katara crossed her arms and glared. “What did you do, Sokka?” she whispered at him
furiously.

“What? I didn’t do anything!” Damn her sibling senses. He didn’t get how she always knew.
Annoying.

“Yes, you did! You both have really dumb expressions on your faces. You did something
stupid, I just know it!” she hissed quietly. As there was no reaction from Zuko, he assumed
the other boy couldn’t hear.

Sokka grimaced at her. “Don’t make me break the blanket fort rules again.”

“Again?” Aang elbowed his way past Katara. “So, this is like the last time?” He gave Sokka
the puppy dog eyes, but it was slightly ruined by the evil grin on his little face.

Sokka put his hands on his hips, mirroring Katara almost perfectly as he scowled at them. But
he was aware he was probably looking more smug than stern. “Butt out,” he said firmly.

Aang clapped his hands together with a huge grin on his face. “Katara, you owe me two
copper pieces!”
“Are you arseholes placing bets on us?” Sokka said scandalised, delighted and perhaps a tiny
bit offended. “You are too young to gamble with money, young lady!” He wagged a finger in
his sister’s face. “And you bet against me?”

She sniffed. “You’re my brother. Of course I bet against you.” Then she poked him in the
chest. “Don’t mess it up. We have enough problems without Zuko having a hissy fit or the
pair of you moping because you can’t be normal about things.”

Rude. But she was smiling. There was a wryness to it, sure, but it was genuine. Aang looked
so smug, Sokka wanted to punch him. But affectionately. A Toph punch. “Where is the little
monster?” he asked, following the thought

Katara picked up his meaning like he had spoken Toph’s name. “She’s out looking for
supplies with Tu.”

Ugh. Tu. That was a problem. Both in that Sokka was conflicted about his feelings regarding
Taiju and his family, and because Zuko was getting increasingly testy about wanting to take
some sort of action about it. He had let Sokka avoid it, but that would only continue so long.
Patience was not one of Zuko’s virtues.

“So what’s the plan for today?” he said brightly, choosing to ignore that one for later.

“When she gets back, Toph and I are going Appa hunting,” Aang said. He was still trying to
keep up the enthusiasm, but even his optimism was waning. It was becoming increasingly
obvious that Appa wasn’t here at all.

“Tu wants me to teach him to cook,” Katara said, a pleased gleam in her eye. Whether that
was for the joy of teaching, or that she would have a willing person to make everyone’s food
was unclear. It wasn’t like the rest of them didn’t do their share, they all took turns in cooking
and cleaning, but with mixed amounts of success. Maybe she was hoping to have someone
who did it with love.

“Don’t you have a job now?”

“It’s only a few days a week.” She grimaced. “They don’t let me do anything interesting.
Although I’m going to be allowed to sort through the case archives soon. I might be able to
find something there. Any mention of Appa, perhaps.”

Sokka nodded, but his good mood was soured slightly. The thought of her alone in a room
sorting papers. Vulnerable. Fuck Jet and his shitty everything.

Aang swung around and headed for the hearth. “Do you want to come Appa hunting, Zuko?”
he asked, his effort to maintain his exuberance obvious to all but their resident firebender.
One of their resident firebenders. Ugh, Tu again.

“It’s Li,” Zuko said with a scowl. “And no. I have my own stuff to be doing.”

“You’ve found the Earth King,” Sokka said. “Why don’t you try your hand at Appa finding?
You have a talent for locating stuff. We haven’t utilised it.”
Zuko grimaced his way through Sokka’s sentence, but then he got snagged by Aang’s big
pleading eyes. Even he was not immune to those. “I... alright. Not today, but maybe
tomorrow. Wandering the city isn’t helping, you have to ask someone.”

Sokka raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Hi, which way to the bison?”

“Yes,” Zuko said, nodding intently. “But you need to ask the right person. And probably
threaten them a bit. A lot, maybe. So we would need to choose them well.”

Sokka grinned. “Let’s brainstorm and plan for tomorrow. Today we are going to get me a
sword!”

“Weapons are forbidden from sale,” Katara said primly.

“That is why I said get, not buy. Zuko knows a place we can steal them.”

Her brow furrowed, and her arms crossed in her disappointed stance, but then her face took
on a more speculative look. “What else can you steal?”

Shopping list in hand, they set out across the city. It was only a reconnaissance mission, the
stealing would be later, after dark. It was a nice day, the sun warm and bright. The streets
were not like they had been; the vendors were still gone, although there were plenty of people
quietly going about their business, avoiding looking at the burnt shell of buildings, or the
piles of rubble that stood out like scars on the narrow streets. The city was running again,
people were operating the water services, keeping the wells clear of bodies and other debris
and rebuilding was starting to take place.

Zuko was stalking instead of walking and he seemed a little agitated after their nice morning.
Sokka sighed internally. He had a feeling that dating Zuko was going to be no less annoying
than being friends with him. Hard work at all times, but worth it.

“What’s got your underwear in a twist?” he asked, hauling Zuko back and making him slow
his pace. “That’s just a turn of phrase,” he added as he could see the ‘my underwear is fine’
argument gaining traction on Zuko’s face.

“So, what does it mean, Sokka? It’s a turn of phrase, but not one I’m familiar with, so what
does it mean?”

“Why are you annoyed? Stressed?” He tried to loop their arms together, but Zuko deftly
avoided him and crossed his own defensively.

“We have to discuss Taiju with Tu.”

Sokka shook his head. “No. I get you feel like we owe the kid something, and I’m sorry for
what happened to him, but it’s just going to cause us trouble.”

Not only that, but Sokka’s feelings on the matter were deeply conflicted. On one hand, Tu
probably did deserve to know the truth about his father’s actions, on the other, Sokka didn’t
owe him anything. Taiju had sat back and felt bad about things until it was too late. He had
helped torture Sokka. It didn’t matter he was feeling shit about it, it didn’t matter that he had
finally taken action. Sokka was still angry about the action he hadn’t taken.

But also he felt guilt the man had lost his life for them. He hated that he felt that guilt and
regret. Hated to feel guilty for what had happened to his family. That didn’t mean he owed
them, though.

Zuko clearly did not feel the same way. “Sokka, you don’t get it, we do owe him.”

“We don’t. Taiju made his own choices. I’m grateful for him, but he took his sweet damn
time. He chose to work for those fuckers and to turn a blind eye until it got too much. I’m
grateful, but I don’t owe his family shit.”

Zuko was looking furious, so this obviously really meant something to him, which to be
honest, Sokka had kind of guessed the way they had been so carefully avoiding talking about
it.

“Well, I do,” Zuko snarled. “And you can’t stop me fulfilling that debt.”

Zuko’s temper was as familiar as it was frustrating. But Sokka’s was hardly anything to sniff
at either, when he got riled. “You’re right, I can’t stop you!” In front of him, Zuko increased
his pace. “You’re going to do what you’re going to do, no matter the impact on others!”
Sokka yelled at his retreating figure.

Zuko made a rude gesture with his hand without looking back

Well, so much for their sword date. Again.

………………..

Katara was teaching him to cook. Tu could cook a little. He understood the concept—put
food on heat. And Jet had taught him the basics, but he was interested in making things that
tasted good, special. The books he had salvaged seemed to imply there was an art to it,
although his favourite was a handwritten and illustrated thing that must have been someone’s
personal record of their food adventures. He felt a strange sort of attachment to the
presumably dead person who had spent so much time recording their recipes, just to die
during an invasion that turned their house to rubble. He wanted to do them proud, somehow.

But perhaps a foreign city already on its knees and with rationing in place was not the best
time to expand his practical knowledge.

Katara seemed to understand though, and they were, while limited in ingredients, at least
going through the motions of seasoning and experimentation.

Also, he found Katara’s company soothing. She and Toph. At least neither of them was the
Avatar, or a prince in disguise, or ignoring him so hard it was a palpable force. And he didn’t
have to worry about discovery, as they already knew what he was.

“There isn’t any pepper of any kind,” Katara said. “I guess it’s not grown here.” She was
eyeing Tu’s ingredient list with a slightly pained expression. “I’m not really good enough
with Earth Kingdom spices to know the best replacement. We have this one.” She pointed to
a little jar with a dried herb. It was still fragrant, although it may have seen better days. “But I
don’t really know what it is.”

“We can try it,” Tu said. He was going to make something out of his book if it killed him. Or
if it killed those eating it.

The door slammed open, and Li stormed into the house. He looked furious.

Katara sighed. “Spirits above and below, they’ve fallen out already. Not even a full day.” She
looked resigned and exasperated, but not concerned. “Did you forget Sokka somewhere?” she
asked sweetly.

Even as she spoke, Sokka appeared behind Li, red faced and huffing with exertion. He was
scowling, too.

Li’s face hardened and his jaw jutted out slightly, like he was steeling himself for something.
He strode forward until he was in front of Tu and then dropped to his knees.

Tu stared at him, heart racing. What was he doing?

“Your father was Taiju,” Li said.

“Yeah?” Tu’s voice cracked a little with his anxiety and confusion. “So?”

“He was killed after releasing prisoners against orders. Sokka and I were those prisoners. On
Zhao’s ship. He saved our lives, and I owe him a life debt. With his death, that debt passes to
you.” He bent so his forehead touched the floor.

Tu watched him in stupefied silence. A prince. Bowing in such a way to him? It didn’t make
sense in his head. He was so confused it took a moment to really register what he had said.

“You?” he managed. “You’re why my family is gone? My father dead?”

Prince Zuko raised his head. “He did the right thing. He was a good man.”

A whole storm of emotion flew into Tu’s throat, almost strangling him. “I don’t care! I don’t
care if he was right or good! I care that he’s dead. I care that my mother and sister are gone!
That I’ve lost everything!” He shouldn’t be speaking to someone of the blood like this, it was
appalling. But he couldn’t stop. “I don’t give a shit about your life debt. I want my family
back!”

Li said nothing. Just remained on his knees, stony faced. Behind him, Sokka looked resigned
and a little pained. But he added nothing. Perhaps he didn’t feel the same way as his friend.
Perhaps the Water Tribe dealt with these things differently.

“Tu,” Katara began, but Tu held up a hand and she fell quiet.

“Leave me alone,” he managed, and made for the door. He barely had enough brain power to
grab his shoes before making a run for the street.
He was so upset. So confused. And angry. His mind was in such turmoil about what to think.
It was like this revelation had broken the dam of his grief and he was suddenly drowning in
it. He wasn’t even really sure who he was mad at.

Lost in emotion, he wandered the streets. Time seemed to slip away from him, as he thought
of his family and the bitterness of what had happened. He wanted to go back in time, just be
back to how things had been before the soldiers had come for him and destroyed everything.
But at the same time, the fantasy was sour. He had too much knowledge of the world outside
the bubble he had been living in.

As he walked, the anger began to fade into sadness. It wasn’t Li or Sokka’s fault his father
had chosen to save them. And Tu had seen Li shirtless during their travels. His dad had done
a good thing, against orders or not. At least he could feel reassured that he had been right; his
dad was a good man. It was the system, the government and the corrupt bastards like Zhao
who were wrong. Wrong enough to torture Li… Zuko, rather than just kill him. There were
laws about the treatment of prisoners, and although he was obviously an enemy combatant,
Sokka was a kid, just like him. And torture was forbidden in all circumstances for people
who had not reached their majority, except in cases of treason. You could hardly commit
treason when you were from the other side, anyway.

It was only the aching of his feet and the lengthening of the shadows that clued him into just
how long he had been out. He was now running the risk of being out after curfew. The
thought filled him with a sort of recklessness. He paused to try to take stock of where he was.
From the faint smells, he thought he might be heading towards the docks, or possibly a fish
market or something.

The bell began to ring through the city, first warning bell before curfew, and the recklessness
dried up into worry. He had been walking for hours, and he had no idea how long it might
take him to get home. Or indeed, how to get home. The city was so big and all the narrow
streets seemed the same. He had maybe one hour to get back. He wasn’t going to make it.
Curfew began well before dark, ensuring that you couldn’t hide from patrols.

Perhaps he could find an Earth Kingdom guard and explain he was lost. Jet worked for them,
maybe he could use his name to stop them arresting him on the spot.

He sat on a crate and watched as a few people rushed past, intent on returning to their homes.
He didn’t even really know what district he lived in.

“We’ve talked about this, Yu Ming. It’s not safe to be out alone. Definitely not safe after first
bell.”.

Jet. He was sure it was Jet on the other side of this row of houses. Tu hurried in the direction
he thought the voice might have been going. Full of hope and fear, he broke into a run. He
needed to get to the other side. The houses were built together like a solid wall and it was
some way before he found a break in the structure, a high stone wall the only barrier. It was
possible beyond it was a small courtyard or garden.

Tu was not great at climbing, and being short did make it a little more difficult, but he had
determination, and perhaps desperation on his side. He hurled himself into the task. As it was
built from earthbending, there were no handholds, so he had to use some broken crates to
give him enough lift to grasp the top, his fingers scrabbling on the dusty stone. Getting the
rest of his body up was a challenge, and he kicked off the side of the neighbouring building
with all his might.

Unfortunately, that gave him a little too much momentum, and the wall was much thinner
than he had anticipated. He tumbled over the top in a blur of houses, stone and green cloth.
He landed with a thump at the feet of a girl dressed in Earth colours. She stared at him, eyes
wide.

“Did you mean to do that?” she asked.

Tu, rather winded, just lay on his back, unable to get air enough to speak. He shook his head.

She smiled at him and reached out a hand. “What are you doing throwing yourself over
walls? Are you running away from someone?” She glanced around the empty courtyard, like
there might be enemies ready to leap out at them.

Tu accepted her hand and rose painfully to his feet. “No. Sorry,” he said. His voice sounded
strained.

“Are you okay? I’m Suki.” She was looking at him with concern.

“Tu.” He glanced around too. He still had no idea where he was, and he couldn’t hear Jet’s
voice anymore. “Where are we? I’m a bit lost,” he admitted.

“Near the border of the docks and the lower ring.” She glanced past him to the right and
grinned, waving. “What you need is a guard. They’re supposed to know their way around the
whole city. Not that they actually do.”

Tu turned and saw Jet approaching, a small child in his arms. The rush of relief nearly took
him to his knees again.

“You found her!” Suki said.

As they got closer, Tu could see Jet’s face run through a number of complicated emotions. It
suddenly became clear that he had just entered into something Jet wasn’t happy with him
seeing. He wondered if it had anything to do with the child. She was small, but from the look
of her, not as young as her size suggested. She was also obviously at least part Fire. Her Chi
was strong and vital, like it was trying to escape the confines of her body. It was possible she
could bend, and he wondered if Jet knew. He must be able to feel the heat of her little body as
he held her.

“Jet!” Tu burst out, the need to explain overwhelming. “I was lost and it was almost curfew
and I heard your voice.” He felt like he might cry.

Jet’s face softened. “Tu, you’re out late.”

“One of your little lost souls, Jet?” Suki said.

“Yeah. Let’s take Yu Ming back and then talk.”

He handed the girl over to Suki, and then dropped back a bit to speak to Tu, his eyes on the
girls ahead. “Look, don’t freak out. I know it’s… I know it’s a bit fucked up, but when the
invasion happened, we had to look after a bunch of mixed kids. And there are some colony
folk here. Some Fire. I don’t trust them, but I know they look after their own. So…” He
trailed off, returning his gaze to Tu’s and frowning slightly.

Tu didn’t think he had ever heard Jet explain his actions so clumsily. He was worried, clearly.
“I’m glad you could help,” he said faintly. He was spending time with Fire folk? It seemed so
unlikely. It gave him hope and renewed fear in equal measures. He didn’t want to risk
meeting them in case they recognised his accent.

He was still worrying about it when they reached their destination. A small, dirty looking
house, one of many on this block with the same uniform structure. There was another level
above it with its own door. “Jet, I’m going to wait out here, okay?” he said.

“Yeah, no problem. Don’t blame you.” At least he seemed to assume Tu’s reluctance was due
to fear or prejudice.

The wait was not a long one, and Suki stepped out first. “So, are we finally going to see
where you live, Jet? If we’re taking Tu home?”

“Who’s this we?” Jet grumbled.

“I’m not good enough to meet your little gang of miscreants?” Her tone was teasing.

Jet signed, looking momentarily pained. “Come, let’s walk somewhere without ears.” They
set off, taking the winding streets until they came to an open area that once may have held a
fountain. The three lanterns that had not been damaged beyond repair remained unlit in the
last of the daylight.

They sat on the ruined lip of the bowl of the destroyed fountain. It would be hard for
someone to overhear them without being seen in such an open area.

“Sit for a moment,” Jet said. He seemed very controlled and contained, but there were lines
of stress on his face that Tu could recognise.

“Jet?” Suki asked.

“I… I had to be sure of you. Will you hate me for doubting? I know we’ve been through
some stuff together, and I consider you a great friend.”

“Are you going to ask me to join your gang?” Suki asked. Her voice was teasing, curious,
and maybe a little cautious.

“Yeah, I guess. But it’s more than that.” He looked at Tu, raised an eyebrow, like he was
asking permission.
Tu just stared back. It was Jet’s call if he trusted this girl enough to share the more unusual
details of his friends.

“The Avatar has returned,” Jet said at last.

“Yeah. I know. I’ve met him,” Suki said. Casually, like it was normal.

“What?” Jet’s eyes got all big. “When? Did you just see him, or actually meet him?”

Now her eyes were narrowed like she was thinking through what to say. “He and his friends
came to my village. It’s why I left. To help fight the Fire Nation.”

Not a statement that made Tu feel particularly comfortable. He wondered if she had met Li
and what she thought of him.

Jet laughed low in his chest. “Small world, even in this huge city.” Then he grinned. “I met
him too. Yesterday we had lunch together.”

Suki’s whole face changed to a mixture of relief and excitement. “Wait, he’s here? Are any of
his friends with him? A Water Tribe girl?”

Jet was grinning too now. “Katara and her brother. And Li and Toph.”

Suki dropped her head into her hands and took some shuddering breaths. “Spirits,” she said,
her voice choked with tears. “Spirits, all this time. And Sokka and Li found them? Fuck, I’ve
never been so relieved in my life.”

“I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you earlier—if I had known… but the Avatar… it’s not something
to bring up with just anyone. I’d been thinking about it for a while but...”

She shook her head, and he rested a hand on her back as she breathed through her emotion.

Tu watched them. It was touching. But his Jet senses were tingling. He had seen what his
friend was capable of, the ease of lies and manipulation, and he was sure somewhere in here
he was being deceptive. Tu just didn’t know where or why.

“Can we go see them?” Suki asked, raising her head. Her cheeks were smeared with tears.

“Yeah. Of course. You okay, Tu? You look a little off colour.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” He wasn’t exactly. This had been a nice distraction, but he didn’t
really want to go back and face Li and Sokka again. The reality. And he couldn’t let on to Jet
the reason for his distress. He had to fake it as best he could. “I had a bad day, with
everything. But I’m glad for this reunion.”

Jet smiled at him, a little tight, but still warm.

Tu had somehow been the catalyst for this revelation. Why? The only conclusion he could
come to was Jet had been keeping her deliberately separate from the rest of them and Tu’s
arrival had changed things.
He just wanted to crawl into his bed and grieve quietly for a while. But he had a feeling that
would not be possible.

The meeting between Suki and her lost friends was emotional and noisy.

“Brought you something,” Jet said as he strode into the house with a smile.

Sokka, sitting next to Li, both of them still grumpy, had leapt to his feet when he saw her, his
whole face alight with shocked joy. “Suki!”

They hugged, both with tears in their eyes. Then Aang and Katara joined them in a tight
huddle, much like the one they had shared when they had been reunited in the guardhouse.
Everyone was talking at once and very excited.

“You too, Li,” Suki said, wiping her eyes and holding out a hand.

Li stood up and crossed to her slowly. His own gaze had been fixed on Tu the whole time,
yellow, mismatched and as intense as flame. But he did accept a hug from her.

“Old friends, I guess,” Toph said from her spot at the hearth.

“Oh!” Aang said. “Yes, Suki, this is Toph!” And then they were off all talking at once again:
Where had they been? How did they meet Toph? How long had they been in the city? It was
loud, but all quite pleasant. Until Sokka asked how she knew Jet.

Then things started to get a little more dicy.

“We came to the city to look for you, but-” Suki broke off, her mouth turned down.

“We?” Sokka asked.

“Me and Shen. After we got back to the camp, Commander Wei and Huang stripped him of
his rank, and Wei told him to leave. Your dad helped us get away.”

“Shen’s here?” Li broke in.

“No...that...let me just tell you what happened.”

Li and Sokka both looked worried. A feeling Tu shared. Did they mean the captain that had
saved Tu and the 54th from East lake? He had a flash of real fear. The man knew he could
bend. Did he know about Li or was this going to reveal that, too? In his panic he couldn’t
remember if they had ever discussed it, before Li decided to treat him like he had plague.

Funny that survival instincts could push aside a day of trauma just to add some new, fresher
trauma.
“We were looking for you,” Suki was saying. “And then one night he just didn’t come home.
So I looked and asked everyone we had met and then I went to the guards. Jet helped me.”

“So where is he?” Li demanded.

Sokka swung towards Jet, face furious. “How long have you known? Don’t tell me you didn’t
ever put our Shen and hers together. You’ve heard us talk about him often enough.”

“Oh come on, Sokka. A Tall, dark man in his thirties called Shen? There are probably dozens
of them in this quarter alone!”

“Where is he?” Li’s voice had reached a significant volume.

“Gone!” Suki yelled back, full of emotion if not hitting quite the same pitch.

“I bet you did know!” Katara was not to be outdone on the shouting. She looked red faced
and furious, her dislike of Jet really getting a chance to shine.

“Wow,” Toph said from where she had come to stand next to him. “Should we join in? I feel
left out.”

Tu ignored her. He was not feeling left out, he was feeling like he wanted to bash all their
heads together.

Li turned on Suki, his posture aggressive and his Chi almost shimmering. “Why weren’t you
looking after him!” Like Captain Shen was a wayward dog or a small child, not a grown man.

“Don’t you start on her,” Sokka got between them, shoving Li back a bit. “She hasn’t done
anything wrong.”

“She knows he’s a moron sometimes. She should have been watching him!”

Even Jet was rubbing at his shaggy hair, like the chaos was giving him a headache.

“Guys,” Aang’s voice couldn’t quite top what now seemed to be a shouting match between
Sokka and Li.

“Guys!” he said again, much louder and with an authority Tu hadn’t heard from him before.
There was a slight lull in the noise as all heads turned to him. He pointed towards their
window. People were rushing past, and now there was silence in the room, they could hear
shouting above the sounds of restless disquiet that was quickly becoming panicked.

Tu’s stomach dropped. What now?

As if as one, they all headed for the door.

“What’s going on?” Sokka shouted to an anxious family hustling past. The man’s face was
lined with fear as he clutched a small child, its bare, dirty feet swinging with his movements.

“Soldiers! Entering the city! Hundreds of them!”

Reinforcements maybe?

Sokka’s face took on a hard look, and he herded them back into the house. It wasn’t like there
was anywhere to run. “Let’s go back up top.” He pointed, and they all scrambled for the
stairs. He grabbed Jet by the arm as they headed for the window. “This isn’t over,” he said.
And he managed to convey an impressive amount of threat.

On the roof, they used Toph’s earthbending to reach the transport lines again. Giving them a
better view. It was crowded up there, and Tu crouched, feeling safer lower to the ground.

Below and to the right they could see the soldiers. All marching together through the streets
towards the middle ring. Their banners were flying and their smart uniforms were different
from the two seen already.

“They’re wearing Tsing’s insignia,” Li said. He swallowed, eyes intent on the procession of
men. “And carrying the Fire Lord’s standard.” Tu shivered at the way his voice dropped,
husky and afraid.

“That’s bad, right?” Sokka said, one hand coming to rest on Li’s arm, pulling him close.
Their fight forgotten with this new threat.

“Yeah,” Li said. “Yeah, that’s bad.”

…………………..

The Fire Nation had approached them for talks again. Hakoda and Wei were both keen to see
what they had to say, at least. Huang was still angry, but he didn’t have command anymore,
not while Wei was with them. Hakoda had instructed a couple of his own trusted men to keep
an eye on Wei. If he suffered an ‘accident’ that took him out, or worse, then there would be
no stopping Huang from taking foolish actions.

They were finally starting to get some information out of the city, although reports were
sometimes contradictory and it was hard to know what was accurate. Strangely, most reports
agreed there had been a surprising lack of oppressive violence towards the citizens. Although
any rebellion was put down brutally, there were no reprisals on those that had not been
involved. Another unusual feature of this occupation were the reports of the Fire Nation
soldiers being held to account. It was disconcerting to find them so off pattern.

The leadership of the city was also a little murky. It had been reported Ozai’s daughter was in
charge, but also that it was some upstart young general who had taken the city to prove
himself. There was even a rumour that the Dragon of the West had been spotted. But that one
was pretty easy to discount. If General Iroh was there, he would make sure they knew about
it.

The worst of the rumours, the one that had robbed Hakoda of sleep the past few days, was
that the admiral who had tortured his son was one of the people to enter the city. That he had
been on the ships that the Water Tribe had engaged. If Hakoda had known, he would have
thrown everything aside and hunted him down.
He was in two minds whether it would have been worth it, even if the rest of the world
burned as a consequence. He had barely been able to think of anything else. His mind was
consumed with anger, hate, and grief. Even Bato was stepping lightly around him.

Panuk was not, though.

“You need to keep your head, Hakoda,” the healer told him, pointing what was left of his
right hand fingers in the vague direction of the refugee portion of the camp. “They are
depending on you. Rakuq will be unable to rein in the hate.” He shook his head, the beads in
his hair clicking. “The Earth folk have different agendas.”

“I don’t want to keep a cool head,” Hakoda admitted. “I want the man responsible for hurting
my son.” For forcing him to choose to let his son suffer and die. He was never going to
recover from it. That choice haunted him the same as the day he had made it.

Panuk gave him a solemn, searching look, it felt like the older man was seeing his turmoil
laid bare. “And like the impossible choice you made before,” Panuk said, apparently reading
his mind. “You must choose to do right by the vulnerable here, not seek what you want. Even
if your vengeance is justified.” He slapped Hakoda on the back. “Spirits above and below,
Hakoda, we would welcome that bastard’s death as much as you. We all love Sokka. He
deserves to have justice.” Panuk used his left hand to tug Hakoda’s belt down at the back
with a firm motion. “But now is not the time.”

He was right. Of course he was. But the lack of sleep and the burning, smouldering anger that
filled him was making it hard to think past that need. There was a part of him that was fed up
with being sensible, of trying to save these people who couldn’t give two shits about
Hakoda’s tribe, or their culture, or his family.

“Healer Panuk, have you seen Hakoda?” Haoyu stuck his head through the tent flap and
flushed. “Chief.” He bobbed into a wobbly bow, still a bit uncertain of the motion on his
crutches.

“No need to stand on ceremony here.” Hakoda forced a smile on his face, although it
probably looked more like a grimace. He raised an eyebrow in invitation.

Haoyu stepped inside a little awkwardly, moving the tent flap with his elbows. Hakoda knew
the boy didn’t like being helped, had said that he would never learn to do it himself if he
didn’t have to try. But it made him feel uncomfortable to watch Haoyu struggle.

“One of the Fire Nation men who’s here to confirm the meeting passed us a message. For
you.” Haoyu’s green eyes looked very big in his round face. “He asked for someone in
Captain Shen’s unit. So Muyang came, and the man said he wanted to speak to you. So we’ve
been looking for you,” he said in a rush. “How did he know the captain’s name?”

“What did he look like?”

“An ashmaker?” Haoyu said with a wince. “Black hair, light eyes. Had a beard.” he shrugged
a little helplessly.
“Hmm. Captain Kazuma was the man who took Shen to Lao Fort. It’s likely to be him.”
Hakoda was already out the door. He had no idea what the man wanted or why he seemed to
have singled Hakoda out over the Earth folk, but he wasn’t going to miss out on an
opportunity if there was one to be had.

It was Kazuma. It seemed his people had no issue sending him right into their camp, so it was
likely the meeting later today would be with superior officers. Perhaps an attempt to mitigate
the mistake of sending a mere captain to treat with commanders and generals the last time.

Kazuma nodded when he saw him, a brief expression flashing across his face. Relief
perhaps? “Chief Hakoda,” he said, stepping forward. Then, outrageously, he extended his arm
to be clasped in a traditional Water Tribe greeting. Not the greeting you would give in these
circumstances, between enemies. It was shocking, but the expression on Kazuma’s face was
intent, like he was willing him to take his offering. Hakoda was caught in indecision for a
moment. He wanted nothing less than to murder this man for such an action, but from the
look of the other Fire Nation soldiers, it was as shocking to their side as it was to his. So
Hakoda could only assume there was something else at play here.

Taking a chance, Hakoda grasped the offered arm in a strong grip. He could feel the heat of
Kazuma’s skin through his light robes and held back a shudder. The moment seemed to
stretch. Kazuma’s face was calm, but his ugly Fire Nation eyes looked bright. Like he was
pleased.

Instead of releasing him properly, Kazuma withdrew his hand by running it causally down
Hakoda’s arm, so their hands briefly touched. Hakoda gripped the scrap of paper pressed into
his palm without any change in expression. Off to the side, he could see Rakuq going red in
the face. That would need to be dealt with quickly.

“Until later, Chief Hakoda,” Kazuma said, bowing politely and then showing Hakoda his
back.

Hakoda wondered if the man felt fear, with all the hate directed towards him as he casually
walked to his people. He was damn good at hiding it if so.

Hakoda caught Rakuq by the arm as he stormed towards them—it was unclear if he was
intending to punch Hakoda, or go after Kazuma. “You dare to… to-” He looked apocalyptic,
he was too angry to even speak properly.

“Yes. Come with me,” Hakoda said. “All is not what it seems here.”

He returned quickly to his own tent. Haoyu was the only Earth soldier near them as they
stepped inside, and he was halfway to being adopted by the tribe, seeing as his own people
seemed to have lost interest in him now his usefulness as a soldier had been reduced. Hakoda
thought if Haoyu would accept, Panuk might make it official.

But he had other things to think about right now. “Before you start shouting, Rakuq, let me
explain.”

“Explain what?” Bato looked up from where he was patching a pair of Hakoda’s pants.
“Hakoda gave that ashmaker bastard far more respect than his people deserve. It was an
insult to us. He had the audacity! And you! You had no call to accept that!”

“It was deliberate on his part. A risk he was apparently willing to take. His own people didn’t
look too pleased.” Hakoda resisted the urge to rub his temples.

“Who? Hakoda, you said you weren’t going to meet the emissaries. I would have gone with
you!” Bato looked pissed at him now too.

“Last minute change of plan. Kazuma wanted to see me. He passed me a note.”

“What does it say?” Rakuq demanded, right on top of Bato’s, “Why?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t read it yet!” Spirits above and below he wasn’t equipped to deal with
people today.

Hakoda opened the folded paper, finally giving into the urge to wipe the hand that had been
touched on his shirt. The feel of firebender skin was lingering.

The characters were neat, written in a precise hand with a fine brush.

No matter what occurs, keep your calm. Yours is one of the great tactical minds of this
conflict. There are ways other than violence to take it out.

“What does that mean?” Rakuq demanded. “Why risk such an insult for this?”

Hakoda read it again, his heart beating fast.

“Why?” Bato asked again, a frown on his handsome face.

“I don’t know why. I don’t understand his game at all. Is he playing against his own people?
A fraction of them? Or is this some sort of bluff?” Hakoda said, but he knew it wasn’t. He
was more and more sure of it while he considered the meaning. They were planning to try to
get some reaction out of him at the meeting, and Kazuma was trying to head it off. Why? It
was a good question.

“What are they planning to do?” Bato asked. He was on his feet and at Hakoda’s side,
lending his strength. And Hakoda fucking needed it. What could they do to throw him off? To
cause an incident they might not be able to come back from?

They were going to send the admiral. He was certain of it. Right now, the thought of getting
his hands on the man was like a live, squirming thing in his belly. He wanted to murder him.
What would he have done, should this have been sprung on him without warning? He would
not have reacted well. Even with warning, he still might lose his shit if the man said anything
about Sokka. Even the smallest mention.

Hakoda scrunched the paper up in his hand. It felt hot in his palm. “If the admiral is taking
charge, and he attends the meeting-” he broke off. He didn’t need to say more. What might
have happened was clear enough to all.
“Why would they do that? It’s hardly diplomatic,” Rakuq said.

“Perhaps he intends to bully his way through? Or perhaps it is a scheme to put me at odds
with the Earth generals? If I caused an incident by attacking him and lost them the possibility
of getting what they want out of this…”

“Whatever it is, we will not give it to them,” Rakuq said. The voice of reason. Ignoring the
fact he had nearly caused the same kind of upset only a short while ago.

Easy to say. Hakoda wasn’t so sure it would be easy to do.

The meeting was more formal this time. Although still in the open, with a good view on all
sides. Two guards had already ridden out to make sure things were safe. Hakoda thought they
would be. The Fire Nation had no honour, but they did put a lot of stock in ceremony. And a
meeting between the two sides would be respected.

Hakoda was still not a hundred percent sure he could say the same of himself.

Kazuma was there, in his red robes. He looked tense, but his demeanour was not threatening,
especially while standing next to a much bigger man, in full armour with pins and decoration
to show his rank. An admiral.

Hakoda looked at the man who had tortured his son and tried to keep a hold of himself. Zhao
was tall and well built. His face was hard and arrogant, and his facial hair was on the stupid
side.

The expression on Kazuma’s face while he looked at Zhao was very still. But Hakoda
thought there was the shade of contempt there. When he saw Hakoda watching him, Kazuma
nodded, acknowledging him, and also perhaps the exchange they’d had earlier.

Zhao, on the other hand, just looked at him, judging, and with the smallest curve of his lip
into a smug smirk. Hakoda tried hard not to imagine what he might be thinking of. The
memories he might be visiting while looking at his victim’s father.

“Cool head,” Bato said from his side. “Don’t give them what they want.”

“I don’t know if I can do this.”

Bato patted him, the action hidden by the bulk of his body. “You can Hakoda. Play the long
game.”

Zhao approached, giving them the barest nod of respect, whereas Kazuma bowed politely
beside him, again shooting Zhao a look of disdain from the corner of his eye.

“I am Admiral Zhao, leader of the Fire Lord’s 4th Fleet, here on his Majesty’s orders. You
wished to discuss terms? Of your surrender, I presume?”
“Hardly,” Wei said, his eyes narrowing at the insult. “I am commander Wei of the East 14th
Division.” He inclined his head, ever so slightly, and then gave a somewhat deeper bow to
Kazuma. Zhao took note of that, his face going a little red, although from the way he cut his
eyes at the smaller man, his ire was directed more towards Kazuma than the person
delivering the slight.

“What is it you want?” Wei asked.

Zhao launched into a speech about their victory over the city, making it sound like he had
been there, leading the fight. Hakoda could barely hear the words, his focus completely fixed
on Zhao’s face, thinking about what the man had done. He’d tortured Sokka, done
unthinkable things to Zuli, and he was just here talking at them.

“Yes,” Wei interrupted. “But what do you want?” His voice was hard. He was not going to
put up with this drivel, which seemed to be a mercy for the Fire Nation side as well as their
own.

“The river,” Kazuma said. “We need trade, or the people in the city will go hungry.”

Huang snorted, loud and rude. “No.”

Zhao folded his arms across his chest. He was angry. “If you don’t, the city and all its
inhabitants will suffer. Is that what you want? To starve your own citizens?”

“If that’s what it takes to get your parasitic troops out,” Huang answered, his temper high.

“Our troops can survive for months, years perhaps. There are crops beyond the walls, but
there will not be enough to ration to the citizens. The situation could become unpleasant.”

“You bastard.”

“Allowing some trade in will strengthen our position,” Kazuma put in smoothly, earning
another glare from Zhao. “But it will stop the suffering of the Earth citizens, as there will be
enough food for all.”

“And you Chief Hakoda.” Zhao turned to look directly at him. “What do you think? You’re a
hard man, you gave up your son for these Earth folk.”

Hakoda could feel Bato’s hand on his arm. His ears were ringing. Thankfully, he was too
angry to even move.

“I think,” Kazuma cut in. “That the Admiral is in his wisdom, asking what you want? All of
you, in exchange? We are here to negotiate, so perhaps we should lay out the tiles we need on
the board?”

Wei was glancing at him out of the corner of his eye, but Hakoda remained silent. Wei
cleared his throat. “We want free passage for the civilians in our camp to leave safely, and for
non-combatants in the city to be allowed to leave.”

“No,” Zhao said. “No one leaves Ba Sing Se.”

Kazuma shifted slightly with a rustle of his silk robes, bringing all eyes back to him with only
the smallest movement. “We will take your terms back to our leaders, and they can discuss it.
But we would expect nothing less than the full free use of the river.” Kazuma fixed his gaze
on Hakoda. “We would also need to reduce the threat you yourselves pose to us.”

Zhao looked like he was going to explode at Kazuma’s constant interruptions. He clearly had
his own script in mind. But he was astute enough not to contradict his comrade publicly.
Hakoda wondered what sort of repercussions Kazuma might be facing when they left. He
clearly had his own agenda that did not involve the conflict Zhao so clearly wanted.

There was a small commotion among the Fire Nation troops, and Hakoda looked beyond
them to see a lone rider heading towards them at speed. They all watched him, the tension
growing until he reached them.

The man was dressed in full armour, with pins like a general. As he approached, he removed
his helmet and it became clear he was far younger than Hakoda was expecting. A teenager.
He dismounted and went quickly to Kazuma and spoke to him in a low voice, using his body
to block his words. Even though he was only a youth, the way he moved indicated he was
used to fighting.

But this seemed to be yet another slight towards Zhao. Any message should have gone to the
ranking officer. It was becoming clear that although Zhao had higher status, Kazuma was the
more trusted adviser.

Kazuma nodded, and the young man moved to speak to Zhao in the same way. Kazuma
looked slightly rattled. The first time his calm had been ruffled.

“We must head back to the city. We will arrange a second meeting, Chief Hakoda,
Commander Wei. General Huang. We will return with answers for you.”

They watched them ride away. It had been a short and almost pointless meeting. But Hakoda
felt that once he had calmed down and was able to go over and analyse the interactions, what
he had learnt from watching them would be useful.

“The nerve to have sent that man, of all of them!” Wei said. “Are you okay, Hakoda? You did
well to stay so calm.”

Hakoda kept his eyes on the retreating figures heading for the city.

“I’m too angry to be anything but calm. There is something going on in their camp. We have
suspected that there is a power struggle in the offing. We need to find out who the players are,
and use it.”

………………..

Kazuma’s skin was buzzing with nervous energy as they rode back towards the city. Iroh’s
plan had been a risky one, but he thought they might have pulled it off. Azula had wanted to
drive a wedge between Hakoda and the Earth Generals. It had been clear there was already
tension at his last visit. Making them treat with the man who had tortured the chief’s son was
one way to do it, but also ran the risk of making Hakoda's hate so great that if they needed
him as an ally it would be impossible. Iroh had suggested perhaps the best option was to
expose the rift in their own ranks, and make it appear they had no choice of Zhao being there,
that their hate of him was also strong. A common enemy was always a good way to foster
alliances. To Kazuma’s relief, Azula had reluctantly agreed to follow this path. Now he
would have to wait and see if his efforts had born fruit.

Tsing arriving was the greater concern. Tsing arriving with the Fire Lord’s standard was very
worrying. While everyone was expected to fly the sign of the flame, Ozai’s own standard
meant Tsing was speaking with his voice. It essentially meant he at least equaled Azula in
rank, although he could not order her to do anything, and any effort to do so might end in an
Agni Kai. Tsing would avoid that, as he would lose.

But it meant Ozai was planning something. Was perhaps suspicious of Azula’s motives in
taking the city. Best case, he was expecting Tsing to govern, and was calling Azula home.

Of course, if she refused, the situation would become obvious to all.

They had planned to shore up defences and see if they could gain allies, but for that they
needed time. Then, when they were ready, the city would be their base to go against the Fire
Lord. It would take time for Ozai to build another drill, and the city could hold out for a long
while against their more normal methods. The previous siege was proof of that. And while
holing up like rats in a trap was not usually the best option, it was both good for a fall-back
plan, and Kazuma knew that Iroh, at least, was hoping they would only need to hold out until
the Avatar dealt with Ozai. Then they could just move in and claim the spoils. As Kazuma
understood it, the Avatar was still a boy, so it was very possible that Ozai might outmatch
him. But if that was the case, perhaps they could challenge him while he was still weak or off
balance.

That strategy was in serious jeopardy with Tsing and what looked like his entire army
marching into the city. The advantage had been taken from them, but moving against him
might not be the right plan either. That would be an open declaration of war and they were
nowhere near ready for it. It might be better to hold off and look for an opportunity.

He felt extremely concerned that both he and Zhao were out of the city when Tsing arrived,
leaving Azula alone. While Zhao was in no way an ally, he was Tsing’s enemy and could
probably be counted on to side with them against him. Sad that they might need to do such a
thing, but the general was the greater threat.

Also, a concern was the fact Tsing probably wanted to kill him and, as Jianjun had so
delicately put; it ‘mount his head on a pike’. It was also quite possible Zhao was after him
too, although he still wasn’t certain or sure of why things had changed between them.

It almost took his mind off the Shen situation. Almost. Despite the fear and anxiety of the
current state of affairs, it seemed he still had time to indulge in perverse thoughts and for his
body to ache with unwanted desire. It really was ridiculous. Embarrassing, even to himself.
He was beset by erotic images and an equal amount of guilt, not just over the nature of his
fantasies but also because of Shen’s fear and his hate of Kazuma’s people. Something that
was completely justified, and Kazuma had no resentment about it, but it also made him sad. It
made him sad that generations had only known his people through the lens of oppression,
fear, and violence. They were so much more than that. He would like to be able to introduce
Shen to the dumplings made in his hometown. The fiery dipping sauce that numbed the
mouth and had a perfect balance of flavour. And perhaps see the beautiful gardens in Shu
Jing or some of the incredible calligraphy in the archives. Just a chance to see that there was
more to them than warmongering.

Of course, it was the warmongering that ruined that fantasy. They had done untold damage to
Shen’s people, and probably Shen personally. It would take further generations before that
hurt would be healed, if it even could be. And he doubted such a thing could happen at all for
a soldier like Shen.

“Captain Kazuma,” Zhao interrupted his musings, his voice hard and eyes blazing with hate.
The sight of it made Kazuma shiver. “Don’t you ever speak over me in such a way again. I
outrank you, and that was blatant insubordination!”

“My apologies, Admiral, I meant no disrespect. Hakoda had murder on his mind, and your
taunting might have caused him to attack you.”

“And I would have burnt him where he stood if he had tried!”

Kazuma just about managed to keep the contempt off his face. “And Azula would have burnt
you where you stood in response,” he said bluntly. “She has placed her trust in you. Setting
fire to Hakoda would not be very diplomatic, even in self defence.” He shrugged lightly.
“This way, you dominated the discussion, but avoided violence. She could not ask for
anything more.”

Zhao looked vaguely conflicted. Even though he clearly mistrusted Kazuma’s intent, he still
enjoyed the flattery and praise too much to dismiss it.

Jianjun approached them, riding his ostrich horse a little awkwardly, he wasn’t used to the
beasts yet. He looked tense, and in spite of the fancy uniform, the armour and weapons, he
looked more like the teenager he was than ever before.

“Did Azula send you?” Kazuma asked.

He shook his head. “When my father arrived, I thought... I thought it was better you knew
quickly.” He looked profoundly uncomfortable. It was unclear whether that was due to acting
without informing Azula, leaving her alone, or at his father’s actions or plans.

“Thank you. Do you know what he wants? Why he’s here?”

“No. Well, not apart from the obvious.” Jianjun screwed his face up like he had tasted
something unpleasant. “Have a care, Kazuma. I doubt his intentions are good. And he will be
after you for sure.”
Kazuma nodded his thanks, even though that was hardly a shock revelation. He eyed Zhao
briefly. “So long as Azula remains in charge, I am safe from him.”

Zhao had the faintest smirk on his face, like that statement amused him.

Jianjun scoffed, yanking on his reins too hard and making his beast skip a step and glare
balefully at him over its shoulder. “Keep an eye on her.”

“I can’t stop her doing anything,” Kazuma admitted.

“You have better luck than most.” The side of Jianjun’s mouth tipped up in the smallest of
smiles. “Better luck than me.”

Zhao bullied his own mount between them. “Jianjun, you must have some idea of your
father’s reasons for being here,” he said.

“I don’t know, Zhao,” Jianjun said, not even hiding his sneer. He had not appreciated having
his rank left off. “I assume he is here to claim the city, or at least help Princess Azula rule it.
As she is only a child.”

Zhao snorted. “You must be shaking in your boots, Kazuma. I doubt he will be happy to see
you.”

Kazuma shrugged again. “I’m not looking forward to it. But as I said, there is not much he
can do but glare at me.” He might, however, send someone to murder him quietly. He would
need to sleep with one eye open from now on. He felt fairly confident Zhao would not follow
such methods. The admiral liked to deal with slights personally, the way he had with the
prince.

Not a pleasant thought, that.

Azula was waiting for them when they arrived, a small figure, sitting on the Earth King’s
throne like she was born to be there. Her features were calm, but there was a tightness in her
eyes that Kazuma recognised.

Tsing and his entourage stood before her. The general turned as Kazuma, Zhao, and Jianjun
approached. His eyes narrowed at the sight of them.

“Well?” Azula asked. “Do we have the river?”

Kazuma knelt smoothly before her. “Your Highness. Admiral Zhao made a very good case,
and they have asked in exchange that we allow civilians to leave their camp. They have also
requested that non-combatants be allowed to leave the city if they wish.”

“Absolutely not.”

“As you wish, Your Highness. As there are multiple things they want, we are in a good
position to negotiate.”
“Negotiate?” Tsing interrupted. Shockingly improper. “The fact their camp is full of civilians
is our advantage. Forget the river. We should be taking them out. Wipe them off the map.” He
made a gesture with one arm, his wide sleeve billowing. “The savages can barely fight on
land.”

Clearly a man who had never actually fought the Water Tribe. They were formidable and
clever, on or off their ships.

The tightness around Azula’s eyes increased, but she held her temper. Perhaps having to deal
with Kazuma’s insubordination had done her some good, helped her learn some restraint.

Tsing meanwhile was only getting started. His sneer took in the three of them, his gaze
brushing past his son to settle on Kazuma. “Interesting to find you here,” he said. There was a
lot of threat in such innocuous words. “I intend to see you tried for desertion. For letting my
keep burn!”

“No,” Azula’s cool voice broke through the beginning of his rant. “Kazuma is mine. He has
not broken any laws, and his actions belong to me.”

Her words were like a cooling balm on a fire, but Kazuma didn’t think that would actually
stop the two men after his head.

Tsing looked furious for a moment, but forced his face into some semblance of calm. It
wasn’t very convincing. “As you say, Your Highness. I will settle into my room and then
perhaps we can speak later?” It was phrased as a question, but had the feel of a demand.
“Jianjun,” Tsing gestured as he strode for the door, and Jianjun, hard faced and a little
miserable, followed him without looking back.

Kazuma couldn’t help feeling frustrated over Tsing's influence on his son. In the grand
scheme of things that were causing concern, it was low to the bottom, but Jianjun had been
doing well out from under his father’s thumb. Making friends with Azula and even showing
the occasional flash of humour.

“You may also leave, Admiral Zhao. You must wish to refresh yourself before dinner,” Azula
said.

He bowed. And joined Tsing as he headed for the door, the two exchanging the barbed
compliments of men who loathed each other.

After they were gone, Kazuma silently accompanied the princess back to her quarters, where
Ichika and Iroh were waiting for them. Ichika looked as harried as always, and there were ink
stains on her sleeves. Her eyes were sharp, though, and her mouth tight. Iroh had the same
expression on his face he usually did, pleasant and contemplative. That expression usually
hid machinations.

“Shall I catch you up, Uncle?” Azula asked, sitting stiffly in her chair.

“No need. We witnessed the conversation, at least until nearly the end.”
Her eyebrows raised as she waited for him to continue.

“It turns out this place has a warren of secret passageways! Ichika has been mapping them. It
would be good, I think, if you familiarise yourself with them. Spies, assassins, you
understand?”

Ichika lay down a map, slightly smudged in places, but very comprehensive.

“Can we get copies of this?” Kazuma asked, leaning forward to begin committing it to
memory. “This could be life or death if something were to go wrong.”

“Nothing will go wrong,” Azula snapped. “It can’t. We are in control here, no matter what
those two upstarts think.”

“Captain Kazuma is correct,” Iroh said. “We might need to utilise this. And if we know
where spies might listen to our plans, it becomes a useful tool for misdirection. We will find a
way to ensure that the areas we need to be kept safe are contained, and the rest are left as they
are.” His tone didn’t hold much room for argument. And surprisingly, Azula didn’t pick up
the challenge. She was gazing at the map, but perhaps lost in thought. This situation must be
extremely stressful for her.

“Then get it done, Uncle. And you, Ichika, provide a copy for myself and Kazuma.”

Ichika bowed. “Yes, Your Highness”

“Kazuma, you stay.” Somehow, those words always lead to trouble. But he bowed his head
obediently and ignored Ichika’s aggravated looks. As far as he knew, he hadn’t actually done
anything worth punishing. Nothing new, anyway.

Azula was wearing a good attempt at a blank face, but her whole body was tense enough to
betray her anxiety. “You love to speak your mind, Kazuma,” she began, rapping her
fingernails against the arm of her chair. A nervous habit, one of her few. “So tell me, how bad
is this?”

He took in a breath. “Bad, Your Highness. Every move we make must be carefully
considered. I don’t need to tell you not to trust them.” She snorted, a strangely cute, childish
sound considering the circumstances. “Do not act rashly, even when insulted. Give them no
advantage. Plan an escape.”

“They wouldn’t dare move against me.”

“They would, and they will, if they have the Fire Lord’s backing, or if they think they can get
away with it. Trust no one but myself, Iroh, and Ichika. Not even Jianjun. I believe he is loyal
to you, but blood ties pull people in strange directions sometimes.” And perhaps his need for
his father’s approval might overwhelm his good sense.

She pursed her lips, eyes glazed with thought. The tap tap tap of her nails matched the rapid
beat of his heart as he waited for her to speak.
Her eyes sharpened, focused on him. “Those two bastards would rip you apart like a pair of
dogs with a rabbit-rat, given the opportunity. I’m all that stands between them and yourself,”
she said eventually. “Does that mean you are the most, or least trustworthy?”

“I am your man, Princess Azula. Even to the death. Although I admit, I am hoping to avoid
giving either of them the satisfaction of being the cause of my untimely demise.”

He thought she almost smiled. Almost. “Then I must leave this unpleasant task to you. You
won’t like it.”

He bowed his head, adrenaline spiking.

“The Avatar’s bison can never fall into their hands. The advantage that would give them... It
can’t be risked given the current situation.”

“Your Highness, surely-”

“No. No, Kazuma. Do not think I am not regretful, I am. The advantage it could bring should
have been mine.” Her hand curled into a fist, sharp nails digging into skin. “But the risk is too
great. Within days, Tsing may have ferreted out its existence. Kill it. Poison would be
preferable, I think. You have access to such things?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

In a daze of furious thinking, Kazuma picked up a handful of apples from the kitchens. He
would not take any action against the beast today, rather, gain its trust. Tomorrow would be
soon enough. Perhaps that would be time for her to change her mind, or for him to come up
with an alternate plan.

Or maybe he just needed time to pluck up the courage to do something that was both right
and wrong. He was certain that killing it would be a disaster. But so too would allowing it to
fall into the wrong hands.

Kazuma’s skin itched. The urge to wash his hands was so strong it was making him sweat in
his light robes.

Closing his eyes a moment to recall the maps Ichika had shown him, he opted to use the
secret passages. He made his way down to where the bison was being held. The stone walls
smelt damp, but they were dry. He wondered if they had changed. Presumably earthbenders
could create them at will, and it would be foolish of him to rely on them. But they did prove
useful in him making his way down to where the bison was being held without being seen.
Only two of the most trusted guards knew of its existence. Kept behind lock and key in a
large cavern.

Kazuma let himself in and looked at the beast. It seemed sad, dishevelled. Its round eyes
fixed on him in fear. Kazuma did not particularly enjoy petting animals, but he did like them.
He appreciated their beauty in the wild and the work they did for people. He believed if you
were to keep an animal for labour, or as a companion, it should be kept well and respected.

This creature had not been granted either of those things, and that made him angry.

It hurt something in his chest to see it locked away in the dark. Its clever brown eyes staring
at him with no hope of release. He felt some empathy with it, being so trapped.

On top of that, his thinking had finally brought him to a decision. Killing the Avatar’s spirit
guide was wrong. No matter the consequences. Personal feelings about harming the animal
aside, if they ever wanted to deal with the Avatar, if they wanted him to win, they could not
do this. Even if Tsing ended up in possession of it, that was a better outcome than the one
Azula was asking for.

She was a strong-willed and assertive leader, but she was still only a child. She was not
looking at the long-term implications.

He held out an apple. The creature flinched, but its nose was moving, nostrils flaring as it
smelt the treat in his hand. “No harm will come to you from me,” he told it, as though it
could understand human speech. He thought it might appreciate the low and gentle tones at
least.

He remained still with the apple on his outstretched palm while the minutes ticked by.
Eventually it shuffled forward, its huge teeth coming very close. Kazuma had to resist the
urge to flinch in turn, but it used its soft lips to remove the fruit and suck it into the enormous
mouth. It crunched contemplatively for a moment and seemed to brighten a little, ears
perking forward as Kazuma dug in his bag for another fruit.

He would not kill it. Nor could he allow Tsing or Zhao to. So, there was only one other
option left to him. He didn’t think he would be able to persuade Azula, there was not enough
time, and she was too frightened by the current situation to think in the long term. What if she
said no? He would not then have the chance to take action against her orders.

Best he went against them now.

Iroh might help protect him from the fallout, although the punishment for this would likely be
far worse than the usual. She might maim him, even kill him. That would just have to be the
price he paid.

But before he took any action, he would need to form a proper plan. There were other risks to
mitigate. He couldn’t have it fly back to the city, couldn’t let it lead the troops to the Avatar.
Couldn’t have it fall back into any of his people’s hands.

He fed it another apple. It took the offering almost delicately from his outstretched palm. If
their positions were reversed, Kazuma thought he would have taken a bite out of any enemy
hand, apple or no apple.

As he had already got its spit on him, he gave into temptation and reached further forward to
pet the soft fur by its nose. Its skin was warm under his fingers, still vital despite long days in
 the dark. It rumbled gently at his touch.

An idea was starting to form, but he wasn’t sure if he liked it or not.

He didn’t have much time. He would need to gather his courage to do what had to be done.

Chapter End Notes

Next chapter: Things take a turn for team Azula. Kazuma battles his conscience and
takes action, the gaang plans rebellion, and the boys have a date involving breaking and
entering.

Some Lovely art! It all makes me so happy! If I have missed you drop me a message and
I will add you in!

The wonderful noartavailable shared this piece:

Here

And the lovely smallsinger5901 shared some more awesome art!

Here

jemkebaby did two bits of amazing art!

the boys doing haircare
Here

And

That scene with Ro and the gaang

Here

strawberrycake-sweetfake Did this boys wonderful and Dumpling piece.

Here

Please go give them some love!

 Chapter 42
Chapter Summary

“Not true!” It was probably true.

Chapter Notes

Many thanks to my beta burkesl17, who has managed to wrangle my dyslexic nonsense.
All mistakes are my own.

Warnings:

There are some very specific warnings for this chapter so please heed them!

Verbal (not graphic) threats of non-con involving a minor, discussion of forced marriage,
discussion of forced pregnancy and references to abortion. Brief assumptions about self
harm/suicide, suicide mentions. Some brief misogynistic language. Nonsexual (ish)
nudity, wound care, some very mild fooling around content.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Hua stared up at the canopy above the Fire Lady’s bed and tried to calm her thoughts. Events
had progressed so fast, she could barely think through options of the future. She had to make
choices. Pursue Zhao? Help Azula? Help Lady Mai?

Perhaps a combination could work. It wasn’t impossible to do all three, she just had to figure
out how.

Things were on a knife edge right now, she couldn’t predict what might happen. There had
never been a time, other than when her father was accused of treason, that danger had been so
close and immediate. It was terrifying.

She had been meeting Xin Yan, just to talk, to learn a little about her mother’s role in their
organisation. It made Hua feel connected to her, even though she was gone. She wanted her
mother’s arms around her, but knowing who she had really been was the closest she would
ever get again.

But one night, she had returned to her quarters late, and decided to speak to Lady Mai right
away with some news that ultimately proved inconsequential. She had found the Fire Lady in
her nightclothes, with a knife unsheathed and resting in her lap.
Hua had run to her, startling Lady Mai enough her eyes had widened and her fist had
clenched on the knife as she raised it threateningly.

“Your Highness?” Hua had said, dropping to her knees.

Mai had looked at her, expression a little wild.

It was this moment when things had changed. Both in the trust they put in each other, and in
the direction matters would take.

There was an instant that Hua had thought Lady Mai would use the blade on her. There was a
flat look in her eyes, like she would murder Hua in cold blood rather than let anyone know
what she had been about to do.

“You don’t need to do this, to hurt yourself. We can get out, it will just take time, I promise!”

Mai had just watched her, and Hua had seen her death for a moment. Although the Fire Lady
was not expected to be armed, Hua had heard that before her marriage Mai had been very
skilled.

“My Lady?”

There had been a long moment before Mai lowered the knife to rest against the skin of her
own forearm. “I...” Mai had said, and it was the first time Hua had ever seen her hesitant.
Resigned, yes, but never uncertain. She had taken one breath and then another. “I haven’t
bled this month,” she had said in a whisper. “He mustn’t find out.”

Hua had been relieved she had not been intending to harm herself, but her stomach had been
squirming when she thought about how this would complicate things. Complicate everything.

“You need blood for your underthings and the sheets,” Hua had guessed. Other maids would
inspect them. The Fire Lord wanted a new heir. He would be keeping watch. “You should use
mine. A wound might be noticed on you, Your Highness.”

Mai had breathed out, eyes dark in the dim light. “Are you certain? This will bind us.”

A secret that could get them both killed. “Yes.”

Hua thought it was as the knife parted her skin and Lady Mai’s cool fingers gently rubbed the
blood into the sheets that true trust became strong between them.

“Return to your bed. We will speak tomorrow. And thank you.”

The following night, well after the moon had begun to sink in the sky, Lady Mai had invited
her into the bed. They had huddled under the sheets where it was too warm and close, but
there had been a feeling of ferocity and determination from Mai that was infectious.

“Are you certain about…it, My Lady?” Hua had asked. “You’re not just late?”

“Yes. I know.”
“What will you do? I mean, there are… options.” There might be.

“If he ever even suspected.” Mai breathed out. “Even the whisper that I might have killed his
baby.” Her face twisted. “His heir. I doubt he would pay much attention to it in any other
capacity.” She breathed out again. “I will not let him have it. I won’t. This I am completely
certain of.”

“So,” Hua had said into the quiet dark. “Two options, risk a healer or herbalist who might
help. Or we try to use the Fuzi network and run.” She had chewed on a nail, thinking it over.
“It will be far riskier for them to help us, your husband won’t let you go if he finds out. We
would have to be very careful, and it might be better if we don’t tell them.”

Mai’s head had been pillowed on one arm, as she gazed at Hua where she lay beside her. “If
this child comes to term, it has a legitimate claim to the throne,” she had begun slowly. “We
know or suspect that Ozai is looking to get rid of his daughter, and he has already removed
his son and brother from the line of succession.” She’d made a huffing sound. “Although he
may have bitten off more than he can chew by taking on Azula.” There had been a strange
little smile on her face in the gloom. Like she was imagining what might happen in a true
fight between father and daughter. “The child would be in danger immediately, from Ozai’s
enemies. From Azula.”

“Navigating between them will be hard, My Lady.”

Mai had looked at her, eyes sharp but not afraid. Yesterday she had been afraid. But now
there was steel in her gaze. She had been thinking, making decisions. It took Hua’s breath
away a bit. Made her skin buzz.

“The Avatar will be coming for my husband. Azula will. He thinks I’m just a bitch to breed.
That this-” She had laid a hand on her stomach. “-will be his victory. It won’t be. He has
given me all I need, it will be my victory, not his.”

This was the woman that lived under the meek acceptance and misery. The woman who’d
had enough of it.

“We must tell Azula.”

“You are her spy, you would be remiss if you did not inform her of this turn of events.”

Hua had smiled a little, brittle and resigned. “Yes, but how we do it will make a difference.
We must paint this as something she can use. Her heir. If you stay here, she will see you as a
threat.”

Mai had nodded. “We will tell her. Ask for her help. I will support her claim, if she can prove
herself a leader who can do what’s right for our people. I have been speaking to the lords and
their wives. I know who only supports Ozai because they are afraid. We can offer Azula more
than just an heir.”

Mai had turned onto her back, using an arm to tent the sheet and staring into the blank
darkness above them. “I will not let this child be raised to be sold off like chattel.”
Like she was. Like Azula would be with her marriage, if she made it that long.

Mai had breathed out long and hard. “If Azula can’t offer us what we need, we will run. Or
take other steps. If my child will be Fire Lord, I won’t have them raised in this pit of vipers. I
will kill the bastards first.”

It had been inspiring. Terrifying. Even Mai had seemed quite shocked by what she had said,
and she had seemed to fall into apathy again. But perhaps that was just her thinking, planning
behind a facade of meekness.

Later, she and Hua had carefully written and sent the letter to Azula. It had been worded
subtly, with the hope that the news would not be obvious to a casual reader. Then they had to
wait.

Now, staring up at the canopy above the bed, Hua was conflicted. Not in choosing to support
Mai, but in not going after Zhao. She needed vengeance for her family. They were owed that.
She had no bodies to burn, no ashes to bury in their family’s merger plot. She lit incense and
offered her life for justice. It was all she had.

Mai’s breath was even beside her, but Hua didn’t think she was asleep. “My lady?” she asked,
listening to the rustle of sheets as Mai turned her head towards her. “Will you do something
for me?”

“That depends on what it is.”

“If you have the power to do it,” Hua said carefully. “Or the ear of someone who does, will
you have a man killed for me? If he still lives, and I don’t, or if I can't do it myself?”

“I would consider it, yes. What man?”

“Admiral Zhao. He was the one who lied and said my father was a traitor. He ordered the
death of my family. He has to die.”

“You serve me well and faithfully and I swear it will be so,” Mai said softly into the night.

…………………………...

The guard had looked uncomfortable when Kazuma had asked him to fetch Shen. It had been
unsettling then, but when he was delivered to the cell, Kazuma could see why.

Shen’s face and bare chest were cut and bruised, and as he walked slow and stiff into the
room, it was obvious he had been thrashed.

Kazuma was shocked. Appalled at the state of him. He was deeply ashamed he had been too
cowardly to arrange this meeting earlier. Perhaps he could have prevented this. Or at least
made sure he had medical care. But he had put it off again and again, and had even waited
until after prisoner wash day. He could admit he liked Shen, but the other man had not been
wrong about the way he had smelled.

Shen moved towards the chair, and the guard followed. He gestured vaguely at the restraints.
“You want me to...”

“No,” Kazuma said sharply. “Get out.” He would find the man’s name and make sure they
had words later.

After he left, Kazuma looked at Shen, who was standing awkwardly. “Sit down,” he said. His
voice came out hard.

Shen grunted at him and lowered himself slowly into the chair.

“What happened?”

Shen looked at him with a flat expression. “What does it look like?”

“Who did this? I presume it was a guard, not a prisoner.”

Shen sneered at him, his scabbed lip pulling. “You seem to be a man with a lot of enemies.
Your interest in me caught attention. So thanks for that.” There was anger and spite in his
words, understandable if this was Kazuma’s fault.

While he wasn’t sure why or how, he suspected Shen’s assessment was correct. None of the
other prisoners had been harmed in this way before.

Along with the split lip, the rest of Shen’s face had not been spared. He had a black eye, and
cuts and bruises. There was a rushing feeling in Kazuma’s body and mind, some sort of toxic
mix of guilt, anger, and fear.

Without thinking, he reached out towards the small cut on Shen’s bruised cheekbone. The
other man flinched before Kazuma touched skin, and he quickly withdrew his hand. That had
been a completely unthinking action, entirely inappropriate.

“My apologies, Captain Shen.”

“It’s just Shen, don’t make me say it again.” He scowled briefly, then tipped his head to look
Kazuma in the eye. “But you might want to call me Lieutenant Li. That’s the name I gave to
your friend, Admiral Zhao. Although, just between you and me? I don’t think he likes you
very much.”

“Zhao did this?”

Shen shrugged.

So yes, very much Kazuma’s fault, and also a potential disaster. It felt a little like the floor
was opening up under him, a chasm waiting to swallow him whole. “We must discuss this.
But first I will fetch medicine and we shall tend your wounds.” He took a few deep breaths,
but it didn’t help the feeling of impending catastrophe. “Can you eat? I did bring you your
dumplings.”

“Oh, well, that makes up for someone crushing my dick in their fist.”

Kazuma just stared at him, unable to decide what to say. Nothing would make it any better.
“I’m sorry,” he managed at last.

“Okay. Am I getting these dumplings or are you just going to stand there making that sad
face at me?”

The face in question was burning in shame as he fetched the food. He heated the bowl before
offering it, breathing in the rich steam from the broth. The smell turned his stomach.

Shen’s eyes were fixed on the dish, and only flickered to the side as Kazuma lay down two
smaller bowls of dipping sauce. “You may not like this one.” He pointed to the redder of the
two. “It’s one made in my hometown, spicier than what you are used to here.” That and the
fact his efforts to recreate it might not really be up to scratch.

Shen was looking at him like he was a lunatic. As well he might, offering dipping sauces at a
time like this?

“Why bother with this shit? I’m not going to tell you anything.”

Kazuma cracked his knuckles and resisted the urge to wring his hands. “I’m not going to ask
you to. This… incident has just firmed in my mind what I need to do. If you will do a task for
me, I will give you your freedom.”

Shen raised a sceptical eyebrow. “Believe that when I see it. What task?”

“We will discuss it when I return. I don’t wish to bind you. Eat, and I will fetch the things
you will need. Don’t try to escape. You won’t have a better chance at freedom than the one
I’m offering you. I swear on my honour.”

“Your honour means fuck all to me.” Shen sighed and stuffed a whole dumpling in his mouth,
chewing messily. “But I doubt I would get very far if I tried to make a run for it,” he managed
through his food.

Kazuma left him. It was a risk, but he didn’t think the other man would leave. He picked up
the things he needed almost in a daze; clothes, bandages, items that might prove useful. He
was uncertain of what he was planning to do, and afraid of the outcome. His body felt tight
with guilt and his anxiety remained even after returning to find Shen was still where he had
left him, still working through his bowl of food. He had made some headway into the sauces,
too. Which should not have been gratifying.

“Please let me tend your wounds,” Kazuma said, as he laid out his medical supplies. “You
can do the ones at the front, but those you can’t reach I can help with.”

“Why are you bothering?”

“I feel responsible for this.”

Shen gave him a flat look. “You are responsible. But experience tells me that’s not enough.
You were quite happy to leave me to be tortured to death by Tsing back in Lao Fort, what’s
different?”

Kazuma couldn’t really argue with that. And perhaps, in reality, if the situation he had found
himself in was different, he might in fact be returning Shen to his cell after cleaning him up.
Although he would also do what he could to protect him, the man still had a point. “Fine, as I
mentioned, I also have an interest in your good health. I have something I would like you to
do.”

Shen looked grimly satisfied with that, and Kazuma gestured at the cloth and boiled water.
“Will you begin to tend your wounds?”

Shen picked up the mirror, obviously wincing at his own reflection. “I don’t suppose you
could let me shave?”

Kazuma considered. “Wounds first. Then yes, you can shave, as long as you give me your
word you won’t attack me.” He picked up one of the strips of material and throttled it in his
hands.

“And you would trust me, just like that? How have you survived so long being this dumb?”

“Shen, if you came at me with a razor, I would set you on fire. But I will trust your word if
you give it.”

Shen snorted and began dabbing at the wounds on his face. He was relatively clean, given it
had been wash day yesterday.

“Will you allow me to tend the ones on your back?” Kazuma asked.

“I guess.” There was considerable reluctance in his voice, but it was obvious it had to be
done.

There was a nasty laceration that was weeping slightly, a scabbed red line down Shen’s back
and curving around his hip. “This will sting,” Kazuma warned as he crouched and used a
cloth to break the scab and release the infection. It didn’t seem to have taken hold yet, and
with cleaning and some salve, it would probably heal well.

“Ow! You’re a shit nurse.” Shen scowled and then turned slightly contemplative. “Although,
I’ve had worse.”

Kazuma shifted. He had to use his other hand to hold the skin taut. It was warm under his
fingers, and the feel of Shen’s body moving with his breath was distracting. It was so vital
and alive it made Kazuma’s heart pound and his nerves tingle.

Shen also seemed to be having some issues. He appeared to be both flinching away from
Kazuma’s touch and trying to lean into it simultaneously. Kazuma could only assume it was
the duelling need for human contact versus the revulsion towards the heat of his firebender
hands. The twitching was making the task more difficult than it needed to be, but Kazuma
didn’t say anything. “Tell me what happened,” he asked instead.

Shen drew in a deep breath that Kazuma could feel under his hands. “Long story short, Zhao
took me to a different cell, wanted to ask questions about you, got distracted by the fact I was
tortured by that piece of crap, Ro, and then had his new freak work me over.” He winced and
glanced down at Kazuma briefly before turning away. “The relevant part for you is he wanted
me to stand up in court and say you sexually assaulted me. Or tried to offer me favours in
exchange for sex. Or both.” Shen snorted.

Kazuma tried to focus on that sound while his vision went a little wobbly at the sides. Zhao
was an arrogant, narcissistic fool at times, but he wasn’t stupid. While Kazuma was protected
by Azula, he was safe from direct attacks. But if Kazuma’s supposed crimes went public, she
might have to let it go to trial, and no matter if he won or lost, the shame of that association
could be damaging for her, as well as for him.

Shen was watching him over his shoulder again. “So if you’re thinking people don’t know
you like to screw men, then I’ve got some bad news for you.”

Kazuma stood abruptly, almost spilling his dish of hot water. “I don’t screw men! At no point
have I ever said that is something I wanted!” It was a pointless protest, and one that was
ultimately just embarrassing. It was clearly obvious to Shen that he did want it.

Shen smirked at him, it was a little mean and dryly amused. Then he also stood, his body too
close, forcing Kazuma to look up. “Oh really? You going to carry on cleaning my wounds?
There’s some other hard to reach ones.” He stepped back, offering a brief moment of relief
before he moved the two steps to the smooth stone wall, leaning against it with one forearm
and looking over his shoulder at Kazuma. Still with that mocking smirk, he dropped his pants
with his free hand.

Kazuma could feel his face going red. The flush was so hot his skin felt like it was burning.

Completely humiliating.

Shen looked smug as he watched him, but there was something more there. The tremors in
his body, the pinched look on his face. He was scared. This was just more bravado,
attempting to cover the genuine fear. Trying to use Kazuma’s obvious discomfort against him
and using his own sexuality as a weapon to achieve it.

Well, Kazuma was better than his base desires. He had resisted them for over half a lifetime,
and he wasn’t going to be intimidated by a scared, naked man with a bruised backside.

And it was horribly bruised, clearly he had taken quite a beating. The skin of his thighs was
broken in places. So that would need tending. Determined, Kazuma walked the few steps to
Shen’s side and crouched to bring him level with the injuries, careful not to get dust on his
robes. Or to look at more than the torn, tanned flesh in front of him.

Shen snorted and Kazuma dabbed the cut a little harder than necessary.
“Ow! You butcher.”

“Continue telling me about Zhao. He wants me to be accused of…” He couldn’t say it, and a
long shiver of fear passed through him. This was a nightmare that would not end with Shen.
If his patsy disappeared, Zhao would just find another. Kazuma had to take a few deep
breaths, and Shen shifted a little, looking down at him.

“Are you frozen in fear or just overwhelmed by my beauty?”

“Shut up, Shen.” Kazuma viciously dabbed him with the cloth again.

“How bad would this be for you?” Shen said, with an obvious wince at Kazuma’s less than
gentle ministrations.

“Potentially very bad. If my reputation is destroyed, it could impact my patron. Suicide might
be the only option available to me.”

“What the actual fuck, Kazuma? Because of a rumour? An unproven accusation?” Shen
turned his body somewhat and Kazuma averted his gaze with another flush. “Listen, he’s the
one who should be ruined considering what he’s done, and to a child, no less. The bastard. If
I had to actually go through with it, I would tell the fucking truth about that shit-smear.”

Kazuma pushed him back around and jabbed him with a hard finger. “No. You must not do
that, Shen.”

“Why? He-”

“No.” Kazuma stood so he could look Shen in the eye. “Not for his sake or mine. If it is
traced back to the Blue Spirit, and the Blue Spirit to Li, then he could be ruined. Completely.
He may never come back to his father’s people, but should he want to…”

Shen’s eyes narrowed. “You know more than you did last time. You did recognise him at Lao
Fort. You know who he is, don’t you? His name? His father’s name?”

“Yes, I do. Do you?”

Shen breathed out, looking a little conflicted. “No. He didn’t want to tell me, so I didn’t push.
I figured his dad’s high up, though. A general, a politician. Someone with influence.”

Kazuma nodded. “A man whose reputation will also be affected by this. He will kill Zhao if
he finds out what the man did, but he may also kill his son. Zhao deserves to be held to
account, but not for this case. For the boy’s sake.”

“What the fuck kind of justice is that? What is wrong with your people, Kazuma? Suicide
because you might be attracted to a man? Murdering your own child because some bastard
sexually abused him? Every time I think I can’t be more disgusted, you give me something
else to be horrified by.” He shook his head, the expression on his face was complicated and
full of revolted pity.
Kazuma tramped down on his own response. In Zuko’s case, he had to agree wholeheartedly.
It was an appalling response towards a survivor of something so horrible. “Li is a victim of a
terrible crime. Unfortunately I can’t make things right for him and I can’t give him justice.
But I will do what I can to protect him.”

Shen turned to glare down at him. “Why? He’s just some kid. Is he related to you? You kind
of look similar.”

“Shen, please put your pants on.” Kazuma turned to sort through the other items he had
brought, giving himself a moment. “I doubt we look that similar, other than both sharing
some traits common in the aristocracy. And no, we come from completely different
bloodlines. There’s no crossover to my knowledge. But while the injustice upsets me, I admit
I do have a connection to his family and an interest in seeing him well.”

“But not for his father?”

“No, not for him. As you have guessed, he is a powerful and frightening man. Best Li stays
far away from him, but he has other family who care for him. A sister and an uncle.”

“He’s mentioned them. He said his sister is still a kid. Fourteen.”

Kazuma nodded. “His sister is in a difficult position right now. She is at serious risk, and it is
her I ultimately want to protect.”

Shen, now blessedly dressed in the clothes Kazuma had brought, sat slowly back into the
chair, the careful movement unsurprising considering the state of his bottom. “And what does
your patron think of this? You’ve been careful not to mention a name, but you did let slip it
was a woman. The only woman in power I’m aware of right now is Ozai’s spawn.”

Awkward. “She is not enthused with my efforts, but allows me some leeway to do what I
think is right. It is a very fine line, though, and I need to be careful to protect both myself and
the girl while remaining outwardly loyal to the Princess.”

“But why do you care about Li’s sister in the first place?”

Kazuma gave him a pinched look. It was hard to explain without making the connections
obvious. “That is complicated. In my line of work, I have tried to help people where I could.
Prevent immoral, unwanted marriages, hurts towards the vulnerable by the powerful. I
suppose I became attached in this case. I’m sure you can relate.”

“Fuck. Does Li know, do you think?”

“I doubt it. He has been far from his family for years.” This was a risky option. Would Zuko
become concerned if he thought his sister would be married off against her will? Or would he
accept it? It was what was expected of them, of all children of powerful people. But it was
certainly enough to get Shen’s sympathy, and that was what he needed right now.

Kazuma handed over a razor. It felt wildly foolish to be giving the man a blade, but strangely
thrilling.
Shen, for his part, just nodded his head as he took it, and began carefully shaving. “Are you
really going to let me go? What is it you want me to do for you? Because there are some hard
lines I won’t cross. Not even to save my own life. Other things…” He smirked and wagged
his eyebrows suggestively. “I might be willing to compromise on.”

Kazuma glared at him. “Not that. And not betraying your people. The Avatar’s bison is being
held here.”

Shen put down the razor and looked at him. “I know. Long story. So what do you want me to
do?”

“I want you to ride it out. I could release it, but then it might just fly back to the city. It might
fall back into my people’s hands. It needs to be away from Ba Sing Se and I can’t trust it will
leave. Especially if the Avatar is here.”

Shen watched him, his expression intent. “And why would you want that? Isn’t having the
bison a prize for your people?”

“The political situation here is complicated. There is something of a power struggle brewing.
There are factions that must not have this power. I was instructed to kill the animal, but I
believe that is wrong. According to the old texts, it is the Avatar’s spirit guide. Killing it
would be a tragedy and a catastrophic mistake. Freeing it is the only way to keep it safe.”

“Why do you care about the Avatar? He’s an enemy of your people.”

Kazuma shut his eyes for a moment. Probably stupid when sitting beside a prisoner with a
blade, but admitting this was hard, in spite of everything. “The Avatar is an enemy of Ozai,
not of my people. I want my people to live and to live well. I don’t believe that this can
happen under the current Fire Lord.”

Shen’s eyes got a little wide. “So this is treason? Which faction are you supporting? This is…
How much trouble will you get into for this?”

“Honestly? My chances are not great at the moment. Between Zhao and treason and my own
nature, my prospects for seeing next year are not high.” He shrugged. It was strange, but
saying it made him feel a little freer. “I want to live, and I have every intention of trying to do
so, but I am also prepared to die for my people, same as you.” He rubbed his hands against
his robes, trying to ease the urge to wash them. “I believe that this is the right thing to do. We
are still enemies, you and I, but our desires align in this.”

“And your investigation over the missing men you were after?”

“There are other men in the cells I can question.”

“See that’s an issue for me. Someone else will just get hurt in my place. I can’t leave the
people in my cell to that fate,” Shen admitted slowly. “My friends.”

Kazuma could feel sympathy, but they didn’t have time for it. “Listen, you have two options:
One, you return to the cells and wait for Zhao. I will release the bison and hope it will fly
away and not fall into my people’s grasp. Or two, you can take the bison and both be free.”

Shen picked up the razor and fiddled with it. Kazuma followed the moment of his fingers
carefully. “I suppose you don’t get loyalty. I have friends in that cell, people who will wonder
where I am. I can’t just abandon them to your ‘questions’.”

“And if you go back, you will just die with them, or they will remain there after Zhao
murders you, with no one ever knowing what happened to them.”

“You’re not very good at this inspirational talk stuff.”

Kazuma reached out and removed the blade from Shen’s hand, setting it aside. He didn’t
resist. He already knew that this was his only option, he just didn’t want to admit it. “It’s not
to inspire you, it’s the truth. If you go back, you will die in this prison, either by Zhao’s hand,
or just be locked up and forgotten. All you will be able to do for your friends is rot with
them.”

“Fuck you.”

Kazuma said nothing. The man’s loyalty was admirable, but hopefully his desire to live and
not be tortured to death was stronger.

“Can you let them know I’m alive, and haven’t forgotten them?”

“Perhaps. But not if it brings any risk to myself. And I may not be in a position to help after
these actions. It might also be that any interaction I have with them would bring unfortunate
consequences for those I am trying to help.”

Shen stared at his hands for a while, face an unhappy mask. “Okay,” he said eventually.
“Okay, let’s do this.”

Kazuma took his little bag of apples with him and tried not to think too hard about what he
was doing and why. It was lucky that there was someone he could trust that could do this
task, and it was also luck that he had a reason to free Shen. It would not absolve him of his
guilt, but it helped, a little.

Shen was silent as they walked, his face pinched and drawn with misery. He was clearly still
dwelling on his cellmates. His pace was still slow, and his gait awkward. Despite his efforts
not to look, Kazuma had noticed his genitals were very bruised. He hadn’t had the courage to
bring it up, but he could imagine the other man was still in a lot of pain.

The bison was still alone in the dark when Kazuma let them into the chamber. The animal
and Shen both flinched as Kazuma flicked a wrist to light the lantern. The bison looked sad
and frightened, but its nose twitched and it made a rumbling noise, perhaps recognising him
and his apples. Its ears pricked forward as they approached.

“Hi, Appa,” Shen said. “Do you remember me?” He held out a hand and it snuffled at him.
So perhaps it wasn’t Kazuma it was greeting.

“You know it by name?”

“Yeah, we met a couple of times before. Not the Avatar, just the bison.” He reached forward
and stroked the fur above its nose.

Kazuma dug out an apple and passed it over. “Give him one of these. He will need his
strength, too.”

Shen took the apple, eyed it for a moment, then took a massive bite. “We’ll share it,” he said,
barely understandable through his mouthful. Then he held the remains out to the bison, who
gobbled it up with the same kind of enthusiasm.

“Just eat one. I will give it the others.” Kazuma passed out the fruit to his two hungry
prisoners. The bison took his gently, Shen rather less so.

“How am I supposed to ride him?” Shen looked concerned. “And how do we get out? I
assume you’re not an earthbender, or keeping one in your pocket?” He had moved close
enough to touch the Bison’s fluffy flank, petting the dirty fur softly.

“This area wasn’t built for an animal. It was used as storage. There is a mechanism that opens
into a tunnel. At the end of this, there is an exit that can be controlled without bending. It was
put in place as an emergency sluice gate in case of flooding—if there are no earthbenders,
people can still activate it to release the water that may have gathered in these chambers.”

Shen secured his bag to his belt before grabbing two clumps of hair and hauling himself up
the body of the animal. It grunted, but didn’t seem too perturbed by having its fluff pulled, or
at a large man attempting to crawl onto its back.

“Not sure how I’m supposed to steer it,” Shen grunted, as he shuffled forward to be closer to
the head, wincing as he did so. Sitting like that was probably not comfortable with his
injuries. “Don’t really like heights much either.” He did not look very happy on his perch.

“Just do your best,” Kazuma said as he knelt to unlock the chains securing the bison’s feet.

It took a shuffling step and Shen made a high-pitched undignified noise, clinging with both
hands. “Oh, this is going to suck,” he said. “Can I change my mind?”

“No.” Kazuma patted the animal as it passed, probably following the faint scent of fresh air.

Shen turned to him as he passed. “Thanks. I don’t feel I owe you one, given the
circumstances. But you do have my gratitude.”

“Good luck. Just get it far away from here. Your army is camped to the west.”

Shen grimaced. “I don’t think I can return, but we will see. Try not to die. I think it would be
a shame for the Fire Nation to lose an officer who has a conscience.”

Then they were gone, heading into the dark passage.

Kazuma’s feelings were in turmoil. He had done what had to be done, and hopefully saved
Shen from further torment in the process. His reasons might have been a little selfish, but he
also thought it made the most logical sense given the situation. His whole body was shaking,
though. Azula might kill him, and he would have to let her if he couldn’t talk her out of it. He
was so overcome with the emotion of his actions, even trying to marshal his arguments felt
like wading through a giant bowl of over-cooked jook.

Still, it was done. He would go back to his rooms, have a wash and change clothes, and then
face the consequences of his actions. If he survived that, he would deal with the Zhao side of
things.

And also try not to think about Shen dropping his pants. Which was inappropriate at the best
of times, but completely ridiculous to dwell on when he was perhaps going to his death.

Kazuma was glad he had taken time to explore and memorise the secret passageways, as the
dark paths looked much of a muchness, even with the fire he was holding on his outstretched
palm. He, Ichika and Iroh had found rooms hidden away down here, bolt holes for fleeing
dignitaries perhaps, or places for secret assignations. They had utilised a few, where the dust
indicated long disuse. But it was still not really safe from earthbenders, should they be
attacked. Only his own people.

He paused outside the mechanism that led to his own sitting-room. He didn’t think Ichika
would have anyone in the rooms they shared, but he also didn’t want to shock her if the wall
suddenly opened. He could just imagine the cup of tea and plate of honey cakes that might
end up all over the floor, so he opted to look through the tiny spy hole first. He was a bit short
to reach it comfortably, but he leaned against the cool stone and stood on his toes.

Funny that concern over crumbs may have saved his life.

There were soldiers wearing Tsing’s colours in the room. They were unsubtly ransacking it,
tossing things to the floor, uncaring how they fell. Clearly, they were not trying to hide this.
Whatever had happened in the short time he was dealing with Shen must be catastrophic. He
fell back down to his heels, squashing any feelings of panic ruthlessly. Had Zhao already
reported him? Were they here to arrest him for perversion? Or was this something else?

He could take no action until he knew more, so he backed away from the wall quietly,
retreating back down the passage in the dark, just using a hand against the wall for guidance.
His heart was slamming in his chest and he had to stop for a moment to get his bearings. He
would head to the secret correspondence room Azula had chosen. It was in an abandoned
area of the palace, clearly having seen little use in recent years, as even the rooms outside the
passageways were gathering dust. There he would collect himself, and hope that the princess,
Ichika or Iroh would meet him there.

He desperately hoped they were okay. That the ransacking of the room had nothing to do with
Ichika and she was merely outside getting cross at the intrusion.

He had a bad feeling, though.

……………………..

Azula was furious at the situation with Tsing. The indignity of him carrying her father’s
standard, having that much power. Her father was planning something, and although she
refused to let herself be afraid, she felt uncomfortable. A feeling that did not sit well with her.

The pompous old gas bag had cordially invited both her and Kazuma to have tea in his rooms
to discuss the next stage of the campaign, and for him to give her father’s words in private.

And she could not refuse. Just that fact had filled her with fury. Iroh had suggested, calmly,
that she would need to display restraint and be polite. But she had taken some pleasure in
sending Kazuma to deal with the bison and thus turn down Tsing’s invitation. And ultimately,
if her father’s words were meant to shame her, she didn’t want others to hear them.

Unfortunately, that meant she would have to put up with Tsing and Jianjun, who had been
wandering around like an angry, beaten dog. A Kicked puppy. Pathetic. His father wasn’t
worth feeling all this over, he was just a general.

Tsing was alone when she arrived at his rooms. They were ornate, well furnished in the dull
Earth style and they were better than the ones given to Zhao.

“Princess, you honour me with your presence.” He bowed deep. But in other circumstances,
he should have been on his knees. It was insulting. He was treating her like a guest, like she
didn’t own the floors he was standing on. Infuriating. Everything about the man was
objectionable.

He waited for her to sit before he joined her. The tea on the small table beside them was
already brewing, and Tsing carefully lifted the pot, holding it long enough for her to notice
the craftsmanship. Like she cared. She wanted to set him on fire and grind his ashes into dirt.

“Your father sent this. Your favourite blend.”

The idea gave her a pathetic thrill for a second. Until she realised it was doubtful her father
even knew what tea she drank.

Tsing poured the liquid into two cups. Careful and precise. “Your father is proud of you. Your
accomplishments here put your uncle to shame. But...” He paused, like he was considering
his words. “He has concerns. There have been rumours that you took the city by deception,
not force. Unfounded, I’m sure. But he wishes for someone with military experience to take
things from here.” Tsing smiled. He looked like a wolf-bat pretending to be a sheep-chicken.
“You have struck the first crushing blow against the Earth Kingdom. Their resistance will
fade after this.”

“I know,” Azula said tartly. “That was the point. We have the Earth King under house arrest.
We can use him-”

“We will execute him. The people have to see we rule.” He held up a hand to stop her angry
words at the interruption. “This is your father’s order.”

Iroh had told her that would be a disaster, but he and Ozai had different objectives in mind.
The very idea she might have to arrange the rescue of the stupid, pathetic Earth King was
absurd.
Tsing sat back, far too casual in her company. “I see Kazuma did not attend with you. Typical
cowardice. I was planning to resolve things between us,” he said mildly, handing her a teacup
with a bow.

From the smell of it, it was ginseng. Her uncle’s favourite, she preferred jasmine. She didn’t
let her anger show. “Kazuma is out doing my bidding, General. I have better use for him than
sipping tea.”

He better be out doing her bidding. There was something about Tsing’s attitude that was
putting her teeth on edge, and she felt it even more essential that the bison not fall into his
hands. It really was a shame to kill it and she took no pleasure in the idea. She had some
concerns though, as Kazuma clearly objected to her plan. She hoped that she wouldn’t have
to punish him over it. While she liked putting him in his place, Iroh had been right about his
loyalty. It was better won with carrot rather than stick. She did so hate Iroh being right about
things. But it was useful at times to have his perspective.

“Your efforts to turn the Dai Li were also admirable. But you choose the wrong ally, I think,”
Tsing said, politely waiting for her to take a sip before raising his own cup. “De Ming has
been holding back.”

Azula sipped the tea. It was too hot, ruining the flavour. But the burn in her mouth was
nothing compared to the one in her veins. She was outraged. How did he know about De
Ming? There must be spies reporting back to her father. She didn’t think he’d had time to
ferret things out yet. “How dare you question me in such a way? I hardly think it’s your
place,” she said. She kept her voice cool, but she felt hot. So angry she almost felt unwell.

Tsing watched her quietly. He didn’t look concerned. Then he smiled and leaned forward a
little. “These Earth fools are falling all over themselves to turn on their own. I have found
one with even more interesting information. He has been very happy to spill all the secrets
they have been hiding. Some even from their own king. Such an action by our people would
result in the worst death. They really can’t be trusted.”

Azula breathed through the spike of adrenaline in her body, feeling her heartbeat quicken.

Tsing still had a small smile on his lips. “Apparently you have the Avatar’s bison. A good
find, that. And one we will utilise when the time comes.”

“It’s mine.” She tried to raise her voice, but she felt a little weak. Dizzy.

She had the sudden realisation these feelings were not just anger. It was so shocking an idea
—that one of her people could drug her—that it had taken too long for her to process.

Far too long.

She put down her teacup.

Her limbs felt weighted. Like standing might land her flat on her face. She would not give
him the satisfaction of that. But when she reached for her inner fire, it was so dim as to
practically not exist at all.
She thought at that moment she was the most frightened she had been since early childhood,
as she listened to her father smash things in the other room with her mother. Her fear then
had risen into resentment. She had used it to make herself safe, and she would use it now.

“I will have you killed so slow and painful people will shudder at the mention of your name,”
she said carefully, so her words didn’t slur.

Tsing sat back and watched her for a moment. “No. No you won’t.”

“My father-”

“Your father will be glad to have an obedient daughter returned to him. He might even
forgive you after you eloped with my son.”

“I did not!” The notion was ridiculous. Like she would run away with that moron? She
wanted to escape marrying him and his vile bastard family.

“You did, Princess,” Tsing said with that same casual tone. A little smug. “You eloped and
became pregnant. I’m sure your father will want to cover up the shame and will provide you
with the sort of wedding befitting a girl of your status.”

This was unthinkable. She kept reaching for her bending and it was gone. Feelings of horror
were crawling up her spine. He wouldn’t dare. He wouldn’t dare.

But clearly, he would.

“My blood-”

“Is human, just like any other. You will not bend again. You will be kept drudged until further
arrangements can be made. I must thank Zhao for this herb mixture. One of his men sold it to
mine for the price of a few prisoners. Stupid.”

“You can’t think you will get away with this?”

“Who’s going to stop me? Kazuma? The coward will be running for the hills if my men don’t
pick him up.”

“If he had accepted your invitation today?”

“I would have slit his throat in front of you. I will not accept betrayal.”

He wasn’t the only one. Tsing and Jianjun were going to die for this, horribly. It was the only
thing she could be sure of, and the only thing to hold on to to keep out the fear.

She was spitefully glad he had been denied access to Kazuma. And she was surprised that
under the rage and fear for herself, she was concerned about him. And her uncle. She hoped
they had realised what was happening and didn’t give this snake the satisfaction of killing
them. She might even accept the indignity of being rescued, given the circumstances.
She couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened to her brother. The implied threat of
what Tsing was suggesting would happen to her. To have their blood sullied twice in such a
way would bring shame that could never be undone.

Her vision was sparking slightly, like her fire could find no way out of her body but to set
flames behind her eyes.

She thought about her conversation with Ichika. Now she had begun her monthly bleeds she
could get with child. She breathed through her panic, desperately counting days in her head.
She had read that there were times it was more or less likely, but in her fear she couldn’t
remember which. Right before a bleed or after? Would he even know? Or would they just
keep trying?

“Father?” Jianjun. That’s how he would know. Jianjun had suspected, had fetched Ichika.

Azula turned her head carefully towards him and bared her teeth. It was all she could
manage. But she hoped it conveyed just how dead he was going to be.

He stared back at her for a moment, and there was something in his face. Discomfort, maybe.
Anger. Frustration. But it was gone again in a moment.

“Father. I went to find the man Kazuma has been questioning about the Blue Spirit. But he
has disappeared.”

“And Kazuma?”

Jianjun shook his head. “Gone. We have searched his rooms, but there’s nothing there.”

“His secretary?” Tsing tapped a long finger against his tea cup. Impatient and annoyed.

“Escaped.”

“How did a mature woman with weak bending and no sword skills escape you? Are you not
supposed to be one of the best fighters of our times?”

“She didn’t fight, she ran into a passageway in the wall. I couldn’t find a way to open it.”

“Well, find an earthbender and make them open it. Passageways in the walls? Plug them up.
Take men and send jets of flame to clear out any rats.”

“Yes, father. What will you do with Azula?” His stupid looking face was blank.

Azula hated that the betrayal she felt wasn’t just that of a princess being stabbed in the back
by a subject. It was personal. He had been on her side. Had planned this with her, and then to
turn and hand it all to his bastard father? Not to mention the other things that were going to
happen.

She was so angry and afraid she couldn’t think. She wasn’t used to being in this state. Yes,
the situation was frightening, but she had better control than this. It had to be an effect of
whatever concoction had been in the damn tea.
“I will treat her like a princess. Although she will remain drugged. I will find female soldiers
to care for her while we put things in place, we will tell them she has taken ill. You will have
to wait a while for your role. But I’m sure you can practise on the servants,” Tsing said with
the hint of a sneer.

Jianjun’s face didn’t change, but Azula thought she could sense discomfort? Disgust? It was
in the slight way his nostrils flared and his body shifted. Interesting. Perhaps she was not the
only one being forced into…what they were planning. She could work with that.

In fact, maybe she had more room to manoeuvre than she had thought. Tsing had spoken of
Kazuma, and they had gone after Ichika. But there had been no reference to Iroh. Surely, if
Tsing was hunting for him, it would have been mentioned. That meant Jianjun had held her
uncle’s presence back from his father.

Perhaps all hope was not lost after all.

……………………..

All arguments had to be forgotten in the face of this new threat. It wasn’t just Sokka, Zuko
and Tu both seemed like they were ready to leave the spectre of Taiju at the door. But Sokka
didn’t think it was over. There were concerns about Tu. Concerns about the things Azula had
said to him, about Zuko’s life debt. Ugh, it was too much to think about right now.

He was not quite ready to forget about Jet, though. Or the way Jet was looking at Zuko, like
he knew something had changed, he just hadn’t quite figured it out yet. Sokka would have to
help him with that. It would be a treat.

Another source of joy was having Suki back. It was such a relief, even though the news she
had brought had the potential to be disastrous, the fact she was here almost made up for it. He
hadn’t realised how much he had missed her. Someone who had experience with leadership,
who knew what that felt like. It did make him feel hopeful, even in the face of the current
uncertainty.

Zuko headed for the hearth, he seemed to find some comfort in tending their small fire.
Perhaps being close to his element made him feel better, or doing some very surreptitious
bending. Or maybe it reminded him of the meditation that he failed to do most mornings.

“So,” Jet said from beside Sokka. “You and Li made up?”

“Yeah. More than made up. No more kissing jaunts for you.” That had not been quite how he
meant to phrase that—he had kind of been looking forward to being smug and cool about it.
But no.

Also, from the noise Katara made, he had not been very subtle either.

“Oh? And Li is on board with that?”

“Yes. Of course he is. Ask him if you want, but you might get a punch to the face. Isn’t that
right, Li?”
“Who am I punching?” Zuko asked, turning towards them with his single eyebrow raised. He
seemed confused but mildly enthused by the idea.

“Jet,” Katara said, then she made an exaggerated disgusted face, sticking out her tongue and
making like she was heaving. “Firstly, eww, Li. Standards.”

She would have been much more convincing if she hadn’t been blushing. Sokka had a
horrible suspicion as to why. Did she really kiss that arsehole back when he was ‘freedom’
fighting? Sokka was going to have to murder him on principle. Why couldn’t it have been
Haru? He was nice. Kind of dull, but nice.

He made a face back at her. Like she had room to talk.

“What?” Zuko asked, having missed the reason he was being accused of having low
standards.

She ignored him. “And secondly, priorities, Sokka!”

Jet’s arms were crossed across his chest, one leg slightly cocked. His eyes were narrow, and
there was a sneer on his lips. The very picture of defensively disgruntled. Sokka gave himself
a moment to enjoy it.

Jet seemed to pick up on his smugness pretty fast. “Li and I are still friends, Sokka. You don’t
need to pee on him to mark your territory.”

Zuko huffed loudly, his own arms crossed with a sort of confused aggression. “He’s not a
dog, Jet. And yes, I suppose we are friends? Comrades. We will fight together.” He nodded to
himself. Jet successfully categorised.

Sokka grinned, slinging an arm across Zuko’s strong shoulders. “I could pee on your leg, if
that would help?”

It was so worth it for the scrunchy face Zuko made at that suggestion. So, so worth it. Sokka
was having those kissing thoughts again, and now really was not the time. Katara was right
about that. He was probably still supposed to be mad about the Tu thing as well, but Zuko’s
offended face was melting into one of mild distaste and it was delightfully cute.

“Sokka, please,” Katara said, like she was being all mature and not implying things about
Zuko’s taste in men. “We need to decide what to do.”

“Agreed,” Suki said. She sounded serious, and Sokka’s giddy moment faded. There was no
avoiding the situation. “The soldiers are going house to house, removing anyone Fire. It’s
what my friends Nanako and Bowen said would happen. And now it is.”

Jet looked conflicted, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. Tapping his fingers
against his own arm in agitation. “We have to get the children out. Not just the ones with
Suki’s friends, but the others being hidden or fostered with Fire folk.”

The fact Jet was protecting kids with Fire blood, and befriending Fire Nation refugees to do
so was still blowing Sokka’s mind. He had a powerful urge to mock him over it, but he
resisted. Any progress from Jet in that regard had to be a good thing in the long run.
Especially with the constant risk he would find out about Zuko or Tu and lose his mind.

Suki pointed a finger at Jet. “I am going to appreciate your help with this, but don’t think our
discussions are over. If I find you were holding out on me like Katara and Sokka think you
were, I’ll be taking payment out of your hide.” It was a shame Suki seemed to enjoy Jet’s
company to some extent, but also very nice that her trust was limited and she was happy to
publicly threaten him. Sokka thought he needed a bit of that.

“I want to look for Shen,” Zuko said, voice firm.

Sokka did too, but he had a feeling that was not going to be at the top of the priority list right
now. Persuading Zuko of that fact was going to be difficult. His love and loyalty for the
people he cared about tended to outstrip his worry for anyone else, and did not always mix
well with common sense.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only concern. Katara had a look on her face that made Sokka’s
tummy feel tight. Even before she spoke, he figured she was going to be offering her own
contribution to the mounting pile of bad ideas.

“I think I should go back to work at the guardhouse,” she said, her chin jutting out like she
was planning a fight. “The Earth guards will help. They have to! I doubt things will be
allowed to remain as they have been, but they are actual fighters and there have been
mutterings about a coordinated effort...”

“No, you can’t!”

“I can, Sokka! Stop coddling me!”

“Guys,” Aang said. “Stop fighting. Let’s all lay out our ideas and what we think we need to
do, and we can disagree with them after we have heard them. Sokka is the plan guy, right?
I’m sure he can come up with something.” Aang beamed at him, but it had the fixed feel of
someone whose brain was about to explode with too much stress.

Sokka could relate. The plan guy? He wasn’t so sure. His mind was still stuck on the idea of
Katara going to the guardhouse with these new soldiers. The old ones had rules and stuck to
them. These new ones were unknown.

“I’m the plan guy,” Jet said, with a lazy drawl and an annoying smirk.

“Yeah, no.” Sokka pointed a finger at him. “You may be good at making plans, but your
previous efforts have had an unacceptable civilian death-toll.”

“We should probably listen anyway,” Aang said. He was being infuriatingly sensible about
this. His face was drawn and set with determination.

“I’m the plan guy,” Zuko muttered, frowning, a little late, and also very wrong.

“No, no, you are not!” Spirits above. They were not having Zuko plans on the table. Or Jet
plans. Those came in at the end when they were shit out of other options. “Okay, Aang is
right, we’ve laid out the things we think we need to do, and all are good points.”

Sokka took a few breaths, trying to order his thoughts. Distantly, he thought he might need a
special hat for this, like his detecting hat. Some sort of thinking cap or leadership helm, or
something to make him feel like he deserved the authority he was being handed here.

“Right. So we know these new soldiers are bad news. We know they are aggressively hunting
for Fire Nation or colony refugees.”

“And we need to help them!” Suki said, hand on hip glaring at Jet, even though he had been
the one to agree with her.

“Yes,” Sokka soothed. “We need to find a way to get them and everyone at risk out of the
city.” He held up a finger. Beside him, Zuko was watching it like it was about to do a magic
trick. “We have some advantages. We’ll be fighting Fire, not Earth. We could find
Earthbenders to open the wall, we might not even need a gate.”

“Or we blow a hole in it.”

“Yes, Li, or we blow a hole in it. So, getting out will be easier. But people will still be
attacked and killed as they make for the exit.”

“They will be shot to death from the wall if they get out,” Zuko said, voice almost
disinterested, but Sokka could see the expression on his face was intent. He was doing
thinking and planning, and that just added another layer of worry.

Sokka jabbed his finger upwards again. “So we need a force to defend them. Or-” He paused,
thinking. “Or something to hide them. To stop archers or soldiers hitting them as they run.”
Yeah, maybe they could do something with this. Earthbenders could maybe construct
something? That would take a serious organised effort, but it wasn’t impossible. Other
options could be fog? Dust? With earthbenders plus a little water and air, it was possible they
might have a chance. Sokka could feel the good idea tingles going up his spine.

“The guard,” Katara said again. Determined to ruin things. She and Zuko should start a
movement. But she was probably right. They couldn’t risk Jet going back to the guard in case
they were being arrested or watched. But the tea girl? Fuck. Maybe he could send Aang with
her? It would be risky, but he was a powerhouse and would do whatever he could to protect
her.

“Yeah. Yeah, that is one option, you’re right, if there is organised resistance from the guards
we need to know about it.” It was so painful saying that. “These soldiers are not like the
others. Please don’t go alone,” he added stiffly.

Her face softened, and she nodded. “No unnecessary risk.”

“Do I get a say in this?” Jet asked.

“No,” Suki and Katara said almost at the same time, saving Sokka the trouble.
He snorted, but he didn’t look as put out as he could be. He had a thinking face on, too. This
was going to be really hard to rein in, and Sokka was not looking forward to the fall-out.

Jet gestured towards his freedom fighters. “Longshot and Smellerbee have been around some
of the crime gangs here. Maybe they’ll help?”

“Maybe,” Smellerbee said. “They were smuggling people in, don’t see why they can’t
smuggle them out too, in theory at least. They haven’t been because it’s not like there’s any
cover beyond the walls. You would just get shot.”

“Yeah. I’m working on that. We should send a message to my dad too, if we can.” Sokka
straightened, this next bit was not going to go down well. He spent a second imagining his
special hat to give him the command he needed. “Our other priority is to hide Aang and Li.
Both people at greatest risk-”

“I’m not hiding, and I’m looking for Shen!”

“I’m the Avatar!”

“I don’t care!” He waved a hand to stop the shouting. “That doesn’t mean you can’t do your
bit, just that we have to be smart about it. Both of you will need a disguise. They might be
actively looking for…” Well, for both of them, but he probably shouldn’t mention that. “For
Aang, and Li obviously has Fire blood. That puts you at risk. If they’re rounding people up
like you say.”

“Sokka, it’s important that people know the Avatar is fighting for them.”

“Yeah, I get that, but it also paints a big fat target on all of us. Where are we going to go?
Back to my dad?”

“I wouldn’t bring Li back there,” Suki said. “Wei… I think he had ideas regarding some of
Li’s more... problematic hobbies. I don’t trust him at all.”

“So we stay here. That means we have to remain anonymous. All of us.”

“I don’t know that it’s the right thing to do, Sokka.”

“I know, Aang. But if we are going to help, we have to stay alive and free. We can’t plan
while running. Right now, we are citizens. Kids trying to get enough food to eat and survive.
We do what we have to as surreptitiously as we can. We still have to rescue the Earth King. If
we can do that, it would give people the hope they need. Once folk are free of the wall,
maybe the Avatar can make an appearance too. But for this early bit? Disguise.”

“And me, oh glorious leader?” Toph asked. She looked annoyed at being left out.

“You, I have a special job for. If the soldiers come, we need to be able to hide from them – or
at least, hide some of us. I want you to construct secret rooms in the house, or below them.
Somewhere we can slip into when they do their searches.”

She rubbed her palms together. “I can do that. I’m not an engineer, though. I’m a fighter.”
“I’m sure there will be plenty of fights later. Can the Fire Nation heat the walls or something
to check if there are hidden spaces?”

“No,” Zuko said. “But they could use earthbenders. Colony born people loyal to the Fire
Nation.”

“Seriously? That seems like cheating.”

Zuko shrugged. “The army doesn’t like it either, but they still might.”

“So, Toph, it’s your job to find a way to hide us.”

“Oh, simple.”

“For the greatest earthbender in the world!”

“I may need your brains, Snuggles. Like I said, not an engineer. But I know rock and stone.”
She clapped her hands together. “Or maybe not. Perhaps there is a way to disrupt a probe into
the walls. Unless they are onto us, they won’t be checking too hard.”

Sokka nodded. He was feeling better about their chances. And he was surprised to see they
were all listening to him. Even Jet and his gang. “Suki and Jet, you go see what the situation
is with your friends, if their network has plans. Katara...” He sighed. “You go to the
guardhouse. Take Aang—in disguise! No airbending, no waterbending. Just earth. In fact, I
don’t want anyone alone. We do everything in pairs. Smellerbee and Longshot, you go ask
your criminal friends. Tu, please stay with Toph.”

“And you, oh wise leader?” Katara asked.

“Li and I will head out.” He turned to Zuko. “You’ve been nosing around the city, right? You
know where there’s a weapon stash. Is there anything else that might be useful?”

“Yeah. I know where there’s a lot of fireworks.”

Of course he did. Always with the stuff going boom.

“After this, we look for Shen,” Zuko’s tone was no nonsense; it was remarkable he had
managed to hold off as long as he had, quite frankly.

Sokka grunted, attempting with limited success to pull himself up over the gutter of the roof
they were climbing onto. Well, Zuko had climbed onto. Sokka wasn’t sure he would classify
his own attempt as having been remotely successful.

“We have to... little help?” Sokka’s fingers were digging into the stonework, but he could feel
them slipping.
Zuko huffed and squatted down, a dark figure against the night sky. He grabbed Sokka by the
biceps and hauled him onto the roof like he was a sack of rice. It was embarrassing.

“I practise every day,” Sokka felt the need to point out. But Zuko knew that, he used one of
his swords for lack of anything better.

“I know. The muscles you need are different. It all helps, but climbing, jumping, you just
need to practise those.” Zuko stood. “We’ll do the fireworks.”

Risky but... fun. Distracting. Sokka was trying not to think about Shen, despite Zuko’s need
to tell him at least once an hour that he was going to go and look for him. In his heart of
hearts, Sokka was concerned that it was too late. He had gone missing before the invasion.
Either he was unlucky and had fallen victim to footpads—although surely there would have
been a target who was less large and obviously a trained soldier. Or the Dai Li had taken him,
perhaps because he had been asking questions or because they had recognised he was a
soldier, and assumed he was a deserter. Neither option suggested a positive outcome. And if
he had still been held prisoner, what would the Fire Nation invaders have done with those
people? He doubted it was anything good.

“We will look for Shen, and keep an ear to the ground while we do other stuff, but we can’t
be rash with this,” Sokka said as he followed Zuko across the dark roof. Deliberately not
thinking too hard about where he was putting his feet. He was better at sneaking when he
wasn’t too focused on it.

“Can’t be rash?” Zuko repeated. His face was mostly hidden by a black cloth, wrapped like a
scarf and hiding all but his eyes. Sokka was wearing something similar, and although it
looked really cool, the feel of it over his face was suffocating.

“Yeah, I mean we have to think carefully rather than just acting. Of course we will look for
him, but we also need to rescue the Earth King.” Even more so now.

Zuko grunted, turning and looking back over the docks. The night was freakishly quiet,
everyone hiding in their houses, afraid of the new regime. “We don’t know if the Earth King
is still alive or being kept in the same place. We have to do more reconnaissance.” Zuko was
poised like a predator, perfectly balanced in a squat overlooking the streets below. Sokka had
his hands firmly on the tiles beneath him, giving himself a little extra security so he didn’t
topple off.

“Yeah. Yeah, we will and maybe we can find news on Shen too. And I guess we should also
look into…” he hesitated. This was a tricky one.

“Yes?”

“What’s happened to your sister. I don’t see her giving over control willingly, do you?”

“No. But that doesn’t mean she didn’t for her own reasons, or because father ordered her to.
Can you shut up now? Sneaking involves being quiet.”

“I’ll be quiet when we get there. Could she be in trouble, do you think?”
Zuko stood. “I don’t know, and I don’t care.”

As a big brother, Sokka thought he was lying. He had been very anxious about the new
soldiers, as they all had, but Sokka couldn’t imagine not being worried about his baby sister,
even if in this instance she was a terrible person.

“Let’s go,” Zuko said, slipping forward into the night.

The building where they were keeping the fireworks in was a warehouse like any other, one
of many in the district sitting close to the docks. Zuko had clearly been inside before, as he
made his way to a tiny high up window before wiggling inside. He paused long enough to
help Sokka, which was lucky, or there might have been a splattery death. As fun as roof top
jaunts were in theory, Sokka just didn’t have the necessary balance to make them truly
enjoyable and without serious risk.

“This is fireworks. I’m going to slip across the way and get you a sword,” Zuko whispered.
“It’s only guarded on the outside.”

And not very well, apparently. That might just be because of the turbulence of whatever
transition was happening within the invading force. Or they might just be arrogant.

“I wanted to choose my own sword,” Sokka whispered back.

“You don’t even know what to look for.”

“Not true!” It was probably true. But Sokka’d had an idea about getting his sword, a fantasy.
It had built up in his mind and he was disappointed he wouldn’t get his opportunity. Also, if
he was being honest, Zuko’s casual confidence in breaking and entering bolstered his own,
and he was anxious about being left alone. Not much of a leader, when it came down to it.

“You can’t just make decisions like that!” Sokka snapped, but he was already gone. Leaving
Sokka to attempt to find his way down to the ground level via the use of some very creaky
and unnerving ladders.

Once there, he began searching through the carefully rolled piles. There was a very particular
smell to this warehouse, and to the fireworks themselves. The cloth wrapping them was waxy
to the touch and the packages rather plain. Sokka leaned back on his heels a bit, trying to
decide. Truth was, he had no idea what he was looking at. Maybe some of the small ones? He
stuffed a couple of bundles into his bag, moving towards some fatter, more scary looking
offerings at the end of the row. He picked them up carefully, turning them gently in his hands,
and feeling the weight of them.

“Hey.”

He jumped, even though it was Zuko’s voice. “I don’t know what any of these are,” he
complained to distract himself from his heart attempting to burst out of his chest. “And don’t
just hare off and do what you want. We’re a team.”
“Are we?” He couldn’t see Zuko’s face, but he recognised the tension and aggression in his
voice and body. “Seems like you’re the one that just takes charge and decides what we do or
don’t do.”

“You do that all the time! You are the bossiest, most entitled person I know!”

“I make choices for me, not you!” Zuko was doing the thing with his body where he seemed
to be making himself look bigger, intimidating. Wasn’t going to work though, and Sokka
stepped confidently into his space.

“We have to work together. You don’t have to do what I say, but you do need to listen to me
and talk to me if there're any objections!”

“I don’t have to do shit.”

“Okay, you don’t have to, but I want you to! Please!”

“Fine!” Zuko yelled.

He was going to count that as a win. “Are you done with yelling?”

“No!”

But no more shouting was forthcoming. At least, not from them.

“Who’s in there? Hey!”

Crap.

“Up, out,” Zuko said, darting for the wobbly ladder that had got them down to this level. He
paused to stuff several handfuls of wrapped, explodable bundles into his bag. Sokka
wondered just how safe it was to strap them to an irate firebender. Was it only open flame
that could set them off? Or would intense heat cause a reaction to the powders inside?

“Hey! Guards, they’re on the roof!”

Great, roof top running while carrying explosives. Sokka took off after Zuko, who was as
agile as a cat, while he skittered and slid behind.

There was noise, like armed men climbing onto a roof, or maybe falling off a roof? But
Sokka didn’t turn to look. He couldn’t, or he would probably lose his footing. Instead, he
followed Zuko’s sleek, dark shape in front of him.

Zuko turned briefly, to make sure Sokka was still behind him, and he could see from the way
the corner of his friend’s right eye was crinkled he was smiling, enjoying every second of the
adrenaline. Sokka wondered how often he was grinning like a loon under the Blue Spirit
mask. He was born to do this, somehow. It was effortless, and fun for him, not at all like
politicking. How would he have coped if his life had been different and he had remained at
his father’s side?
“This way,” Zuko said, reaching back and grabbing his hand, nearly toppling him. They
darted across the tiles and around a vast obstruction of some larger building, poking its head
above the uniform residential housing in this area. Sokka wasn’t sure where they were. Not
the docks any more, and not the market. So, one of the many districts where citizens lived,
squashed together in their multi-storey blocks.

Zuko paused, taking a moment to breathe in excited gasps of air. Sokka joined him. His heart
was racing in a good way. That had been fun, assuming they were not suddenly caught.

“Here.” Zuko handed him a sword. It was a blade like his first one, long and slim. As he took
it, he could tell it was well chosen—he was far from an expert, but it felt good in his hand.
Balanced.

“Thanks, Zu. It’s perfect, but I wanted to choose it with you. So you could show me what
makes a good sword.”

“We didn’t have time.”

“It was going to be our sword date!”

“Our what?”

Apparently sword date had just been something in Sokka’s brain, and not Zuko’s.

“Never mind.”

Zuko shifted beside him. “This could be a firework date?” he offered hesitantly. “And
tomorrow I can show you why I chose this one?”

Sokka got a warm feeling in his chest, and some of his tension faded. He nudged Zuko with
an elbow. “Wasn’t much of a date. All we did was fight.”

Zuko shrugged with a fluid movement. “You’ve been annoying me.”

Sokka barked out a laugh and quickly covered it with his hand. “Wow, please don’t bother to
sugarcoat it, will you?”

“What’s the point?”

“Why have I been annoying you? Is it because I’m giving you orders? Or because people are
trusting me to make decisions for them?”

“Both. It should be my job. My birthright to be that for people.” He shrugged again, this time
his shoulders remained hunched. “But maybe I’ve never been good at it.” There was pain and
frustration in his voice and Sokka felt no irritation towards him. He was still struggling so
hard to find his footing in the world. But he never stopped trying, and Sokka loved him for
that.

“Not true. You’ve made a lot of decisions in desperation, and not all of them have been good.
But we’re all guilty of that. I don’t want to take charge like that, I want to work as a team.
But sometimes when we try to make decisions collectively, we just argue about it and nothing
gets done.”

Zuko grunted, and Sokka took that as an acknowledgement.

“I’m kind of hoping we’ll find a middle ground.” He nudged Zuko’s ribs again. “Maybe we
can work on it together. Comity date?”

“Sounds like pure suffering to me.” Zuko leant out to survey the street below them. Aside
from a pair of enterprising pigmy pumas snuffling through the gutter, it was clear.

“You know, when people were looking to me to make decisions back there, I had to imagine I
was wearing a special hat.” Sokka admitted. It felt so dumb, but he thought Zuko should
know just how… awkward he felt about it.

“A hat?” He paused to consider. “Why was it special?”

“Like, when my dad goes off to fight, he gets to wear an important helm, so people know he’s
the leader. I thought if I could imagine myself in the same thing, it would give me the
strength I needed. Seems stupid now.”

“It’s a bit stupid. But it makes sense too,” Zuko’s voice was quiet. “Sometimes foolish things
make you feel better. Or like you’ve achieved something.” He dug around in his clothes
before bringing forth the Rock of Victory and handing it over. The warm feeling spread all
through Sokka’s body and he felt a moment of emotional tilting, like he might cry, although it
passed quickly. He reached out and took the small lump of coal, careful not to drop it.

Zuko’s fingers were warm as they brushed his.

“I guess you do get it.” Sokka grinned. “We should head back. Then maybe find a nice way
to end firework and fight date?”

Zuko’s eyes crinkled again, like he was smiling under the scarf and it felt good to have put
that expression there, even if Sokka couldn’t see it.

The trip back was uneventful, but still hyped on adrenaline, they ran across the roof tops like
they were still being chased. In retrospect, probably a bad idea, certainly a risky one. But it
felt good, and they reached the house without bumping into any guards or Sokka falling to
his death. He was getting better at roof running already.

They made it down to street level, but Zuko seemed as hesitant as Sokka to go inside.
Instead, they stood in the shadows and looked at each other. The staring made Sokka’s heart
rate soar, and then Zuko pushed him into the wall. It probably wasn’t meant to be rough, but
as usual with Zuko, the force was stronger than strictly necessary. Sokka let out a whoosh of
breath as his back hit stone.

“Sorry,” Zuko said, tugging down his scarf. He looked sweaty and excited, still high off the
rush of fighting and running. He looked amazing.
Sokka reached for his own scarf. His heart was pounding with exhilaration and anticipation.
Zuko was wearing the intense face that came before fighting or kissing. Sokka was assuming
it would be kissing in this case.

“Well?” he asked, raising an eyebrow and grinning.

Zuko gave the shadow of a smile before leaning forward into a kiss. For once it was slow,
and no one got their teeth bashed, just the warm feel of lips and the darting, hot edge of
tongue. Sokka breathed into it and opened his mouth. He threaded one hand up into Zuko’s
hair, and the other he wrapped around his strong back. He could feel the bunching muscles
under his shirt as Zuko moved further forward, completely into Sokka’s space. He was solid
and warm and Sokka could feel his arousal. It felt electrifying, but still strangely calm after
their dash across the city.

It felt like a perfect moment.

The feel of Zuko’s rough, callused hand on his face, the other tucked over his hip, holding
lightly. The heat from it was like an anchor, holding him steady against the rushing tide of
feeling.

He probably needed to pull away to breathe, but he kind of felt air was overrated at the
moment.

“Will you two please do that in the house rather than the street!” Katara. Her voice an
indignant noisy whisper.

Zuko jumped back, eyes wide and face going rapidly red. Sokka leaned away from the wall
far enough to glare at his sister, who was barefoot in her house clothes and scowling right
back.

“We were being quiet!” Sokka whispered at her, seeing as Zuko appeared to be trying to melt
through the street into the bowels of the earth.

“You’re loaded with contraband. It’s past curfew and you think sucking face in the street is a
good idea? Honestly! You have a room for that!” Katara made an eloquent expression that
illustrated how much she was against even thinking about it.

She was right, though. Annoyingly.

Zuko seemed to be completely mortified. His face was so red it looked painful and Sokka
was a little concerned that he would just take off running. So he grabbed his hand and heaved
up one of their packs. “Let’s go in.”

“Wait,” Zuko watched while Katara huffed and stomped back into the house. “You don’t care
she just saw that?”

“They already know, Zu, it’s hardly a secret.”

He winced. “But doesn’t it worry you? How she might react?”

 “She’s given her blessing. Mostly. She’s upset about the possibility of us drawing attention,
not about us making out.” He pulled Zuko towards the door because he really didn’t want
Katara to be proved correct. Zuko went, but there was still hesitance in his movements.

Everyone was waiting for them by the hearth, the unofficial war room. Zuko’s back
straightened like he was going to fight them all, but Sokka wasn’t worried, no one cared
about that, only what they had in their bags.

Well, mostly everyone. He did notice Jet was staring at Zuko with an annoyed expression,
and Sokka liked to think it was because he looked like he had just been making out with his
boyfriend after having roof-top adventures. It was worth enjoying the good moments when
they came.

He dropped his bag, and stuffed his hand in his pocket, feeling the round, worn surface of the
Rock of Victory. “We have fireworks!” he announced. “And I think, the beginning of a plan.”

Chapter End Notes

Some awesome people shared some art!

The amazing Begesus shared these very amusing pictures of the boys
Here

the wonderful arandin-art shared these amazing drawings

Here

The very talented plaguedstranger049 shared this pic of the boys on Dumpling
Here
And this amazing pic of Kazuma, Appa and the apple
Here

And hms-angst-bender made this very entertaining poster!

Here

Please give them some love!

Next chapter:
Team Azula struggles in the aftermath, and Team Steam (and co.) attempt to get
civilians out of the city. Meanwhile, Shen discovers 1. he does not like flying and 2. he
does not know how to steer a flying bison.
End Notes

You can find me in Tumblr here: https://lovelyelbowleech.tumblr.com

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