Chapter Text
The past few days on the Sazanami had been quiet, surprisingly quiet considering the circumstances. As soon as Seaman Narong was cleared by Medic Junu, he confessed to spying for Zhao.
Iroh was incredibly proud of Zuko for how he handled the situation. He was upset, of course, but he didn’t blow up like he may have a month ago. Between Lieutenant Jee weighing in on Zuko’s side while reprimanding his helmsman and Seaman Narong earnestly proclaiming he owed Zuko a life debt, Zuko entertained negotiations for keeping Seaman Narong board.
Zhao would undoubtedly retaliate in some way if Seaman Narong was removed from the crew, against the seaman and Zuko. As long as Zhao believed he had a foothold on the Sazanami, his actions were unlikely to escalate.
The most obvious benefit to keeping Seaman Narong on board, Iroh proposed early in the conversation, was how they could use him as a double agent. Seaman Narong had paled at the idea, but steadfastly proclaimed his life was in Zuko’s hands, to use as he saw fit.
Zuko, quite maturely, declared they shouldn’t make a decision immediately.
By the time they made port along the straight the storm had pushed them through, Zuko decided Seaman Narong would stay to feed Zhao misinformation.
The timing couldn’t have been better. Alongside repairs from damage sustained during the storm, there was also ‘mysterious damage’ that they needed to ‘wait for a shipment’ to repair.
(It had certainly helped Seaman Narong’s case that he had not followed Zhao’s orders to sabotage the Sazanami before the storm hit.)
Zuko did his part of loudly complaining about the repairs around town, and then locked himself in his room for the rest of the day. The following day, Iroh attempted to discuss their plan going forward, but Zuko shut him down and escaped. The failure of his previous plan to fool Zhao was clearly still too fresh. They had several days in port, so there was no rush to decide on a new course of action.
As to what Iroh could suggest, well, he was rather at a loss as well. Without knowing what the scattered former Sazanami crews were plotting around Zuko, it was difficult to move forward. Iroh needed to get his hands on a White Lotus bulletin. Perhaps one could be acquired today…
Raised voices filtered through Iroh’s window as he finished his solitary breakfast. He started to rise as the echo of hurried footsteps came down the hall. The door burst open without any sense of propriety from the steward struggling to catch his breath.
“General Iroh, sir!” he gasped. “Admiral Zhao has forcibly boarded and is looking for Prince Zuko, accusing him of treason!”
Indeed, a good reason to ignore knocking.
Iroh rushed past the steward, quickly losing him as he had yet to learn the shortcuts for efficiently navigating the Sazanami. Before he saw them, Iroh heard Lt Jee attempting to slow Zhao. They were still on a lower level, far enough from Zuko’s room that Iroh could potentially divert his path.
Taking a moment to compose himself and not give away his frantic dash through the ship, Iroh stepped into the hall. He put himself directly into Zhao’s path, hands folded in his sleeves with a serene smile.
“Congratultions on your promotion, Admiral Zhao, if my steward was correct in his address.”
Zhao pulled to a sharp stop so as not to collide with Iroh. He scowled. “Oh, save your pathetic wheedling, old man. You won’t be waving away Prince Zuko’s treason this time.”
Iroh’s eyebrows shot up, unable to conceal his surprise at Zhao abandoning any pretense of respect. A few of the men in the bloated entourage behind Zhao shifted uncomfortably.
“I’m afraid you have me at a loss, Admiral Zhao,” Iroh said with a sharp look, acknowledging but not addressing the disrespect. “We are nowhere near the Fire Nation mainland. What could my nephew possibly have done to warrant this behavior?”
“Was dear uncle not part of the plans this time?” Zhao taunted with a grin that was all teeth. “I suppose word hasn’t had a chance to spread this far yet. Clerk!”
He waved at the only unarmored man accompanying him, the same clerk who had warned them of the Sazanami’s rat problem. “Report to General Iroh the charges against Prince Zuko."
The clerk opened a scroll and glanced over it at Iroh nervously before reading out, “In the 17th hour of the 13th day of the-”
“Get to the point.”
Swallowing roughly, the clerk continued. “The Yuyan Archers captured the Avatar in the lands surrounding Pohuai Stronghold, under Admiral Zhao’s command. The Avatar was imprisoned within Pohuai Stronghold in the 18th hour and word was sent to relevant parties of his capture. At some point between the 18th and 20th hour, an intruder entered Pohuai Stronghold and freed the Avatar.
“In the 20th hour, the intruder and Avatar were caught in their attempt to escape. Admiral Zhao engaged in battle against them. They escaped by airbender means, but not without sustaining injuries. Admiral Zhao has reasonable suspicion that the intruder was Prince Zuko in disguise. Admiral Zhao is acting in the Fire Lord’s stead to investigate a potential traitor to the crown.”
Cold sweat ran down Iroh’s back. He had no reason to think twice about Zuko turning in early last night, citing feeling under the weather. Iroh had assumed he was sleeping in when he hadn’t arrived for breakfast. How could Iroh make such a mistake?
It had been quiet the past few days! Zuko never let his failures hold him back long. Iroh had mistakenly believed Zuko wasn’t acting impulsive on his own anymore, and now was blindsided by whatever harebrained scheme Zuko came up with while Iroh foolishly thought he was sulking.
Iroh shook his head, pasting on an amused smile all while his heart raced. “I’m afraid this is a wasted trip, Admiral Zhao. We hit a rough patch of weather a few days ago, and Prince Zuko has been feeling sickly. He’s in no state to get out of bed, let alone travel all the way to Pohuai Stronghold and stage a prison break!”
“Well, I’ll just have to see after the prince’s health myself, won’t I?”
Zhao shoved past Iroh, hard enough that Iroh had to take a few steps back to regain his balance. His entourage did not immediately follow him. They still had some sense, unlike their commanding officer.
“This is most impertinent, Admiral!” Iroh scolded, rushing forward to insert himself in Zhao’s path once more. “Prince Zuko is still a prince and you cannot barge into his quarters unannounced. Please, follow me to my office and-”
“So you can stall and give him a chance to cover his tracks? The Fire Lord will excuse any impertinence on my part in apprehending a traitor.” With a scoff, Zhao bodied himself past Iroh again. He called over his shoulder, “Continue this behavior, and I will hold you accountable as well.”
This time, Iroh did not fight to stop Zhao. He turned to Lt Jee, a question in his gaze. Lt Jee shook his head. He hadn’t seen Zuko this morning either. With a sigh, Iroh followed Zhao down the hall; Zhao’s entourage finally moved and followed him in turn.
The spirits granted a small blessing in the form of Zhao’s pride. He clearly didn’t know the way to Zuko’s room and aimlessly led them through the Sazanami’s halls for a comical span of time. Finally, Zhao barked at Lt Jee to lead the way. Valiantly blank-faced, Lt Jee took them in the most round-about route to get to Zuko’s room. Still, Iroh feared it was not enough.
If Zuko finally got to have a conversation with the Avatar, it was unlikely he’d left his side. His room was going to be empty, and Iroh had no idea how he was going to explain it away. Perhaps even more inexplicable was how Zuko even heard about Zhao capturing the Avatar to orchestrate his escape.
As they ascended the sole staircase to Zuko’s hall, Iroh’s heart was in his throat. What if he stopped Zhao now, asserted his royal authority and demanded the man to listen to him? Would Zhao even listen? Iroh would fight him, if that was what it took. But then Zuko’s door was upon them.
Before Lt Jee could knock to announce their arrival, Zhao shoved him out of the way and flung the door open. He rushed into Zuko’s room with a manic grin. His entourage glanced at Iroh warily, but the jig was up. He waved them ahead. There was no hiding the truth. The men filed after Zhao, but came to an abrupt halt and almost toppled over each other.
A groggy voice came from inside, “What the- What are you doing here?”
Fire filled Iroh’s veins. He pushed through the soldiers to enter his nephew’s room, nearly colliding with Zhao who was frozen several steps in. Iroh moved around him and almost froze himself. A feverish-looking Zuko was propping himself up from his pillow with a confused frown. His hair was loose and sweaty, strands clinging to his flushed cheeks. He stared at them, looking genuinely confused as to what was going on. There were deep scratches across his scar, possibly the only sign of something amiss, but paired with his current state…
As Zuko’s hazy gaze landed on Iroh, he shook his head as if trying to clear his mind. He asked, words slow with exhaustion, “Uncle, have you seen Medic Koji?”
Iroh had no idea as to what happened to his nephew, but he was clearly unwell. And it presented an opportunity.
“Prince Zuko, Medic Koji hasn’t been part of the crew for two years now,” Iroh said gently, but not softly. His voice projected to the crowd in Zuko’s room as he went to his nephew’s side and brushed back the hair stuck to his face. He pressed the back of his hand to Zuko’s forehead, relieved it was not feverishly hot. Iroh frowned and tutted as if it were. “Has your fever gotten worse? Shall I call for Medic Junu?”
Zuko’s eyebrow furrowed. “What fever?”
“Enough with this act!” Zhao growled, moving forward. “Prince Zuko, you’re under arrest for-”
Lt Jee appeared between him and Zuko, almost getting barreled over by the man. “Admiral Zhao, I believe it is quite clear that Prince Zuko is in no state to commit the actions you are accusing him of committing last night. Unless you have tangible proof, I must reiterate General Iroh’s request that you leave Prince Zuko to his recovery.”
Zhao was a stubborn megalomaniac, but he had some sense of political acumen. He paused, assessing the situation. No matter his suspicions, only a fool would continue trying to apprehend Zuko when he was the image of a sympathetic, ailing youth. He looked back at his men, their expressions concealed by their helmets, but posture clearly tense. With a sneer, he turned to face Lt Jee again, only to catch Zuko’s wandering, dazed eyes.
Zuko flinched.
Any other time, that would have spelled victory for Zhao. Iroh’s breath caught in his throat. In this one instance, the show of weakness worked in Zuko’s favor. A soldier behind Zhao coughed uncomfortably and several looked away from the scene.
“Don’t think I’m letting this go,” Zhao hissed. He spun on his heels and shoved through his men to storm out of the room.
Iroh squeezed Zuko’s arm and promised to return shortly. With Lt Jee at his side, they ensured Zhao left and didn’t try to corner any of the crew on his way out.
Thankfully, Zhao didn’t put up a fight. He disembarked with thinly veiled threats to fabricate the evidence needed to take Zuko into custody if he even heard of them sailing in the same waters again. An empty threat, for he lost all credibility in his accusations and he knew it. If anything, the man was likely doubting himself. How could Zuko have possibly planned such a ruse?
Was this all truly disconnected? Had Zuko truly fallen ill after his exposure to the storm? Was it merely a coincidence that a masked intruder broke the Avatar out when they were within a reasonable distance for Zuko to travel with his glider?
Only his nephew could answer these questions. Mind spinning, Iroh returned to Zuko’s room.
Dragons twirled in the wind. They danced in their multicolor flames and reveled in their freedom. Dragons of every size filled the sky. High—higher than Zuko could fathom—were dragons so large, they seemed the same size as the tiny dragon just out of reach.
She was riding the same air currents keeping Zuko aloft on his glider. No matter how much heat Zuko gathered around himself, he couldn’t push his glider any faster to catch up with the sinuous form ahead of him. Why was she running away from him?
I’m not running! I’m flying, Zuko!
Zuko frowned, trying again to gather enough heat to move forward. Running or flying, the dragon was moving away from him. Why?
The dragon twirled and spiraled, her laughter dancing through the air like petals in the wind.
I’m not flying away from you, Zuko. Can’t you see I’m leading the way? We’re almost there!
Zuko bit back a desperate plea for her to slow down, to explain. Why did he have to keep chasing after everyone? He was chasing after the Avatar, after the Wings, and he kept failing to catch up. Just like he couldn’t catch up with the little lóng.
Why couldn’t they fly together?
We can, Zuko! You just have to find freedom first.
He’d been teaching so many people about the truth of the Air Nomads. He’d discovered and discussed the return of mixed-bending creatures and people with Sarnai, the Swamp’s people, Yue, the Wings, the Kyoshi Warriors. He’d found the Avatar! What more was he supposed to do to bring freedom back?
You can do it. I believe in you, Zuko. Don’t give up.
Zuko scowled. How dare she imply he would give up. Of course he wasn’t going to give up. No matter what-
A chilling void of warmth rocketed toward him. Zuko dodged, or at least he thought he did, but the next thing he knew, he was falling. The heat keeping him airborne was gone. The air was stale and stagnant. He choked on it, couldn’t breathe as searing pain lanced across his face. Smoke filled his vision. He couldn’t see anything, couldn’t see if his lóng was also falling.
Before he hit the ground, a gust of wind swirled around him. It softened his fall, but did nothing to chase away the freezing flames and smoke digging into his face. Zuko wanted to curl up and cry. It was too much. He couldn’t do it anymore. He couldn’t do it again. But hadn’t he just proclaimed that he would never give up?
Two more spots of nothing approached him. He couldn’t see past the painful black flames. Were they more dark spirits? He didn’t know, couldn’t differentiate between the absences of heat. The one burrowing into his scar had to come off.
Zuko had to be strong, fearless, or else he would become weak prey. He was Akari’s heir! He was a heatbender. Too many were depending on him only for him to fall to dark spirits.
A third void came closer and meowed. Burnt spirits didn’t meow.
A solid weight landed on his lap. Burnt spirits didn’t have a solid form.
Zuko heard a distant bird’s trill before brilliant, white flames overpowered the black clouding his vision.
In his lap was his egg, shining and glittering under his palms full of dancing flames. Or was it his flames themselves glittering with color? Was this the true form of Akari’s gentle flame… or something else?
Whatever it was, it was beautiful.
Zuko closed his eyes with a smile. His pain faded away. His breath calmed. Warmth returned to his being. Everything was going to be okay.
Someone echoed his words, carefully spreading a pungent medicinal cream across his face. The ground underneath Zuko was blissfully soft, cradling him and taking pressure off his bruises. He was home. He was safe.
At least, he should have been.
His peace fractured and sent chills down his spine. An ominous mass of nothing wandered through his halls. How had they found him already? He wasn’t ready to face them again. But he didn’t have a choice, did he? They were coming closer, closer, closer-
The ear-splitting sound of his door slamming open jolted Zuko awake. Wait, awake? When had he gone to sleep? He looked around, taking in the familiar surroundings of his room. When did he come back to the Sazanami? The last thing he clearly remembered was the dark spirit infested arrow headed for him.
Wait, why were there so many spirits in his room?!
Zuko pushed himself upright, which was a struggle. Why did his body ache so terribly?
The source of the mass of spirits was Zhao. Who was standing in his room. Staring at him.
“What the-”
This didn’t make any sense. What was Zhao doing in his room? He should be at Pohuai Stronghold tending his bruised ego because Aang escaped… Had Aang escaped? Zuko didn’t dream up the entire night, right?
“What are you doing here?”
Maybe this was still a dream. Well, more like a nightmare. But it would make more sense than it being reality. Why would Zhao be in his room with an entire squad of firebenders? That was ridiculous.
Uncle pushed his way through the crowd, which made Zuko question his conclusion that he was still asleep. Zhao barging into his room was a comical twist to the intensity of his earlier dreams. Uncle’s fretful, assessing gaze added a sense of normalcy to the scene.
What had Zuko been dreaming about? For some reason, Medic Koji came to mind. Why would his dreams suddenly conjure him? Except, hadn’t Kavi mentioned something about Koji studying under that whack-o herbalist? That was in this area. So, maybe Koji hadn’t been part of his dreams. His presence would help explain the tacky feeling of cream on Zuko’s face and how he ended up back on the ship. If his disjointed, hazy memories were correct and he really had broken into Pohuai Stronghold and had been hit by a dark spirit infested arrow.
Zuko shook his head, trying to solidify his thoughts. Surely Uncle saw Koji, if he’d brought Zuko back. That would help solve the mystery of Zuko’s memories.
Except, Uncle didn’t answer his question and started fussing over him. In front of Zhao. Oh no, he was definitely still asleep because this was a nightmare. Dream-Uncle asked him if he still had a fever, adding yet another element to the strange dream plot.
Zhao growled something, but Zuko was doing his best to ignore him. Even in his dreams, he didn’t want to give the dark spirits the opportunity to get one over him. He knew what it felt like now. Did he? Was that what happened last night? But then why didn’t his scar hurt anymore? If anything, it didn’t feel like anything in the way only Baijiu’s gentle flame felt like.
A fragment of white flames and white fur flashed through his mind. Had that really happened? If it had… then maybe Zuko really was awake right now.
Zuko surveyed his room, trying to find some shred of evidence of last night. Nothing seemed out of place. The only oddities were how sore his entire body felt (like he fell off a wall) and how the lóng egg wasn’t nestled in bed with him. That was fortunate, considering how he’d been woken up.
His wandering eyes landed on Zhao, who was sneering at him. Zuko froze. Somehow the man had amassed more burnt spirits over night. How many of his soldiers had he taken his anger out on? The dark spirits writhed and lurched forward. Zuko couldn’t help himself. He reacted, stupidly.
He flinched.
Thankfully, they were tethered to Zhao despite his fearful response. Zhao didn’t spit any fire for them to travel through, and his scar didn’t hurt. They wouldn’t be able to find a foothold against Zuko. They never would, not ever again. Zuko was never going to let himself fall prey to them again.
For some reason, Zhao didn’t taunt Zuko and left. Why had he come in the first place?
“Get some more rest, Nephew,” Uncle said in a gentle, soothing tone. “I’ll be right back.”
Why was Uncle acting like Zuko was on his sickbed? Sure, he was a little confused and tired, but that didn’t warrant this level of coddling. Had something else happened he wasn’t aware of?
The crowd of people filed out of his room after Uncle and Zhao, but one man remained. He glanced over his shoulder, then quickly brought his hands together to sign wings in flight.
Zuko sat up all the way, propping himself against the wall. Of course the clerk who’d exposed the Sazanami’s spy was a Wing! Why hadn’t Zuko thought of it sooner? Before Zuko could bombard the man with questions, he made a shushing gesture.
Slowly, he mouthed his words of warning, accompanied by rudimentary, clumsy signs. He’d clearly been warned about no spoken secrets being safe on the Sazanami. Once horrified understanding dawned across Zuko’s face, the man nodded and quickly ran after Zhao’s entourage.
Despite accepting he’d been awake this entire encounter, Zuko still pinched himself for good measure. Koh’s lair, what was he supposed to do with this information? His plan to coordinate with the Wings through the Yuyan Archers had been a complete bust thanks to Aang getting himself captured! Now Zhao had them and the next readily accessible Wing under his thumb!
“Prince Zuko, how are you feeling?”
Zuko looked up, surprised Uncle was already back. His head really was a mess. Not surprising, if the broken memories slowly coming back to him were all true.
Asking the Wings for guidance wasn’t possible anymore, but surely he could trust Uncle with this. Uncle had proven he could be trusted with at least this much when they ran the barricade to enter Fire Nation waters. Zuko took a deep, steadying breath.
“There’s something I need to tell you, Uncle.”