Chapter Text
Zuko’s heart pounded in his chest as he rocked back and forth on his bed, trying to calm himself. “Azula always lies, Azula always lies,” he chanted over and over again. Surely she was lying this time too. Surely Zuko’s own father wouldn’t kill him, and surely his grandfather didn’t order his death.
And yet… there was something different about Azula this time. Behind her careless, teasing demeanor, there was something like fear. She seemed concerned— well, as concerned as Azula could be, anyway. And that made Zuko more scared than anything.
He stood and crept down the hallway, stopping to peek inside his mother’s room. Through the cracked door, he saw his sister sitting on his mother’s lap. They were talking in hushed voices, but the terror in his mother’s eyes told Zuko everything he needed to know. Zuko backed away slowly, blinking away tears.
I have to get out of here. Before the thought had fully formed, Zuko was already running back to his room, haphazardly throwing some of his things into a bag. Hands shaking, he grabbed his dao swords off the wall. He’d been outside of the palace a few times, so he knew he would need money— but how much? Hopefully however much was in his mother’s coin pouch would be enough. As he passed the table where she kept her purse, Zuko murmured an apology as he swiped it.
He went past the kitchen, hesitated, then grabbed a couple loaves of bread. Despite his young age, Zuko was strong and agile from both his firebending and sword training. So strong, in fact, that he could scale the palace wall and slide down to the other side. Zuko had also learned how to stay out of sight and sneak around not from any tutor, but from his own father. Some days his temper was so fierce that even the sight of Zuko could set him off, so Zuko had to learn how to avoid detection.
Once he had gotten away from the wall, Zuko ducked into an alley to catch his breath. “Think, Zuko,” he muttered to himself, trying to settle his racing mind. Rarely did he ever think things through before he did them, but this— this was important. This was his life at stake. Where was he going?
Away, his mind helpfully provided. Far away. If he stayed in Caldera City, he would definitely be found by his father. In fact, he realized, anywhere in the Fire Nation would be a death zone for him. His grandfather’s word was law, and if he wanted Zuko killed…
At Zuko’s sudden spike of panic, flames flickered to life around him. He quickly put them out, praying to Agni that no one had seen. “Breathe,” Zuko murmured, “breathe. Okay… what would Azula do?”
Azula would never be in this situation. If she somehow was, she could lie her way out of it easily.
Zuko tried again. “What would Uncle do?” Uncle Iroh had always encouraged Zuko to stop and think about a situation before rushing in. He had a major role in teaching Zuko firebending, and—
Uncle. Uncle, who had always cared for Zuko like a second son. Uncle, who had just lost his own son. Uncle, who was still in the Earth Kingdom, where it could take the messenger hawks weeks to reach him. Uncle, who would be the future Firelord, who could change anything from his predecessor’s reign.
Zuko’s jaw dropped and, before his mind could react, his feet were carrying him towards the harbor. It seemed much farther away than when he would take his palanquin there. By the time he reached the harbor, a mixture of sweat and tears dripped from his face. Through his tears, Zuko could see crates of supplies being loaded onto a ship. Zuko slipped inside one of them and curled up defensively, only daring to relax a bit when he heard the ship’s horn and felt the hum of the engine. As he laid on an uncomfortable bed of cannonballs, he finally began processing the events of the past hour. He shivered, but managed to keep his sobs quiet. That’s something he’d gotten good at.
~ ~ ~
“Lookie what I found!” The rough hand that had been pushing Zuko through the ship’s corridor finally shoved him down on the deck. Someone grabbed him by the hair and pulled his head up. “We’ve got ourselves a rat!”
It had been five days since they had set sail. Zuko had eaten through his loaves within the first two days and hunger gnawed at his stomach. He’d finally had the courage to sneak out and try to steal some food, but he was tired and thirsty and clumsier than usual.
Who Zuko assumed to be the captain of the ship stared down at him with a sneer, not dissimilar to his father’s. Too terrified to move or speak, Zuko could only watch as he paced back and forth, still making a disgusted face at him.
“Let’s cut his hands off,” one of the sailors snarled.
“Or brand him across his eye,” another added, glaring at Zuko. “Or—“
The captain held up a hand and said, “Come on, men, we’re not savages. This is a child we’re talking about. We’ll simply drop him off at the nearest civilization.” A surge of relief rushed through Zuko at these words. He could fend for himself once he was on solid land.
“Th— thank you, sir,” Zuko stammered. The captain gives him a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Of course. We’ll be arriving shortly, so go below deck and gather your things.”