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Dec. 3rd, 2006 03:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
princeinexileZuko stayed in his own skin -- a skin that finally felt right again -- as he traveled east. He did not turn back to find his uncle, to warn him -- time was a river, he knew, and you could not swim upstream. He had to go forward, and he and Iroh would meet again.
When he found the tracks of a Fire Nation transport, he knew, then that he and Azula would as well. Doggedly, he tracked.
This would not be the end.
***
The knowledge that in this fight, he would fail to claim the Avatar did not deter him. At the very least, he knew that Azula's efforts would be confounded. So he fought, and fought hard -- more to stymie her then to complete his goal (was this like knowing the future? knowing that eventually, the group would go beyond his reach, somewhere-- that it'd be weeks--)
But then there was his uncle, and Zuko knew a sick sort of terror; was it now? Was he going to die now?
Refusing to falter, he rose, his hand smaller inside his uncle's broad grip.
He would not let her take his prize -- or his uncle. He was here-- they would preserver, as they always had.
***
She calls him a traitor; he cares not. She smirks, she baits, she cajoles, but they all stand in a line, flank to flank with the Avatar. The enemy of my enemy is my friend proves true, as breaths are measured in inches--
--and then the crackle of lightening and the smell of ozone scorches the air and Iroh falls, falls hard, chest smoking--
Zuko knows terror.
***
It is only after he has made a litter and carried his wounded uncle far from the battlefield, then bandaged and treated him -- he lives, he lives, he will stay alive -- that Zuko understands why Katara was irritated. He refused her out of turn.
Even if she had told him, 'let me save his life', he would have refused her. Perhaps even if it had honsetly meant (might still mean) the old dragon's life, he would have refused her. He will not be weak, and accept an enemy's compassion. Then his father would be right; he would be weak, spineless, bending to the enemy. He was not a reed, forced to bow by the flow of water. He was a Firebender, and he would be snuffed before he gave in to the Waterbender.
At the same time, Zuko is glad for his uncle's education, for burn care being part of every Firebender's education. It is a grim thing, to wrap his charred body, to get medicines from the kit in his pack (a good theft, made some time ago) and soothe his uncle's pain.
He sits up awake, all night, and tries to ignore the soft sobs of pain. His meager skills were just not enough--
--but when were they ever enough?
When he found the tracks of a Fire Nation transport, he knew, then that he and Azula would as well. Doggedly, he tracked.
This would not be the end.
***
The knowledge that in this fight, he would fail to claim the Avatar did not deter him. At the very least, he knew that Azula's efforts would be confounded. So he fought, and fought hard -- more to stymie her then to complete his goal (was this like knowing the future? knowing that eventually, the group would go beyond his reach, somewhere-- that it'd be weeks--)
But then there was his uncle, and Zuko knew a sick sort of terror; was it now? Was he going to die now?
Refusing to falter, he rose, his hand smaller inside his uncle's broad grip.
He would not let her take his prize -- or his uncle. He was here-- they would preserver, as they always had.
***
She calls him a traitor; he cares not. She smirks, she baits, she cajoles, but they all stand in a line, flank to flank with the Avatar. The enemy of my enemy is my friend proves true, as breaths are measured in inches--
--and then the crackle of lightening and the smell of ozone scorches the air and Iroh falls, falls hard, chest smoking--
Zuko knows terror.
***
It is only after he has made a litter and carried his wounded uncle far from the battlefield, then bandaged and treated him -- he lives, he lives, he will stay alive -- that Zuko understands why Katara was irritated. He refused her out of turn.
Even if she had told him, 'let me save his life', he would have refused her. Perhaps even if it had honsetly meant (might still mean) the old dragon's life, he would have refused her. He will not be weak, and accept an enemy's compassion. Then his father would be right; he would be weak, spineless, bending to the enemy. He was not a reed, forced to bow by the flow of water. He was a Firebender, and he would be snuffed before he gave in to the Waterbender.
At the same time, Zuko is glad for his uncle's education, for burn care being part of every Firebender's education. It is a grim thing, to wrap his charred body, to get medicines from the kit in his pack (a good theft, made some time ago) and soothe his uncle's pain.
He sits up awake, all night, and tries to ignore the soft sobs of pain. His meager skills were just not enough--
--but when were they ever enough?
