![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
Rating: PG-13 (T)
Warning: AU
Summery: It was a mission of revenge. There weren't supposed to be any survivors, but Chief Hakoda couldn't bring himself to kill the Fire Nation boy. Against his better judgment, he brought him home. (A Zuko joins the Water Tribe story.)
Notes: Spoilers for Southern Raiders
*******
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2
Authors note: Hey guys! I know I sort of promised firebending, and there is a little ounce of it in this chapter, but the real stuff is going to have to be in the next one. There would have just been too much going on if I included it here. The good news is the next chapter is nearly written, and should be up fairly soon! :)
OoOoOoOoO
During the meeting, I was the perfect prince. The son my father wanted. But I wasn't me.
- Zuko, Nightmares and Daydreams
OoOoOoOoO
The next few weeks were some of the busiest Zuko had ever known. The short artic summer was passing, and soon winter would be upon them. It was becoming fall, and for the people of the Water Tribe it meant that every spare hour of daylight was needed to hunt and gather. Even the children’s classroom time was put aside. Every hand was put to work, preparing against the months of total darkness to come.
The men went out on their annual whaling trip, leaving their women and the children to gather what they could. And gather, they did. Zuko received a crash course on how to paddle a simple canoe, and he and Sokka were often set out to the small inlet bay to haul up nets and nets of small silver fish, each as big as a finger. Artic kelp was also harvested, and this had to be rolled in fresh snow afterward to get rid of the salt.
All of it was then taken to the tribe’s smokehouse to be cured and saved for later. The elderly, or those too infirm to move far, stoked the great fire and constantly added wet branches keep the smokehouse smoky.
One day, Zuko was pulled off his canoeing duty by Kana, and joined Sokka and Katara while they were sent out to pick the last of the season’s berries. The tribe preferred to live on one of the permanent ice-shelves, as close to their watery element as possible, but a short hike to the south and the ice gave way to frozen land. Tangled brambles and dried-out weeds dotted the landscape, but if Zuko shielded his eyes from the sun and looked further on, he could see the outline of what was a great forest — the source of logs for all the great ships under Chief Hakoda’s command.
He followed the siblings as they moved through the brambles at an easy pace, picking what he could, and being mindful of the sharp thorns that would sting at him even though tough seal-hide mittens.
Katara and Sokka were bickering back and forth. They often did this, and while it had worried him at first, Zuko had eventually realized that while Sokka and Katara sometimes became harsh with one another, neither one of them ever got hurt.
But when they were really going at it, they usually forgot their silent companion.
Sometimes Katara would turn and ask him a question (especially when she was trying to emphasize a point to Sokka), and Zuko would either nod yes or no or shrug… but he was never fully involved in their conversation. Both siblings were quick witted, and their words were ever so much faster than what he could ever do by writing in the snow. So Zuko could never voice his true opinion. He could just watch their fight and feel like the outcast he was — separate from the tribe by his nation, his skin, and his disability.
“You have to wait until you’re ten for a reason, Sokka.” Katara was saying, with as much distain in her voice as possible. “Blue Orca’s can eat people. You don’t want to get eaten, do you?”
Her brother shrugged and kicked at mound of snow. He wasn’t doing much berry-picking, because he was still too busy sulking over being left behind by the men while they went whaling. “I’d be fine. I’d be with dad.”
“Stop being a baby. You’ll just go next year, and dad promised he’d take you ice-fishing after they got back, remember?”
“Well they could have made an exception for me.” Sokka grabbed half heartedly at a sprig of berries and tossed them into his basket. “I did guard all of you while all the men were gone, didn’t I?”
Katara simply rolled her eyes at that and glanced over to check his work. “’C’mon, Sokka! Me and Zuko already filled our baskets. Yours is only half full.”
Naturally, Sokka did the exact opposite of what his little sister wanted, and put his basket down. “I don’t even eat these things. Only women like berries. I eat meat, like a man.”
Behind them, Zuko straitened sent a glare at the other boy. He had, at that very moment, been popping a handful of mealy berries in his mouth. But of course, his thoughts could never be expressed, and the two siblings were far too involved in their discussion to take notice.
“Fine,” said Katara, “I guess me and Zuko will have to penguin-sled all by ourselves, then.”
This earned her a quick look from both boys — derision from her brother, and confusion for Zuko’s part, for he hadn’t seen a penguin yet, much less thought about sledding on one.
“You didn’t— we don’t have time…” Sokka began, but was silenced immediately when Katara pulled out three small fish from one of her pockets.
Curious, Zuko put down his own basket and walked over. He plucked at Katara’s fur-lined sleeve and pointed to the fish, asking for an explanation. Her eyes, though, were centered with her brother in a silent match of wills. Finally Sokka gave an indifferent shrug and once again picked up his basket. “I guess we could,” he allowed, “since Zuko’s probably never been. But I get to pick where we sled. You always pick the stupid runs.”
“Okay,” she chirped, returning the small fish to her pocket.
Zuko looked from one sibling to another, feeling a bite of impatience. But they returned back to their berry picking, neither apparently feeling the need to explain what penguin-sledding actually was. He gave a silent sigh and stomped back over to his own basket. He hated not being able to talk.
OoOoOoOoO
“We’re almost there!” Sokka called. The fierce wind carried his words away in an instant, and if Zuko not been only a few feet behind, he might not have heard them at all. “Just keep going!”
Zuko reached up to readjust his hood — he had already lost feeling in his unburned ear from the cold, and tightened his grip on the penguin. The animal was at least warm, and lay passively in his arms, apparently content to be carried up to a crazy height and be ridden upon on the way down. Behind him, Katara clutched at her own penguin, a grim sort of look on her young face.
Sokka was actually having the worst of it. In his zeal, he had picked a penguin that was nearly the size of himself, and was struggling to march it up the snowy hill.
Actually hill wasn’t the right word for it. As they came to the top, a few other choice terms came to Zuko’s mind; precipice, mountain, death-trap. It was a sharp decent that went further down than he could even see. The very snow seemed to glint with malice, as if daring them to try their hand.
“This is your idea of a sled-run?” Katara demanded, turning to her brother. The sharp winter wind whipped at her hair loopies, making them flop crazily about her face.
Sokka didn’t dignify that with a response, and set his penguin down belly first. “This is the best sled-run ever. You’re just being a scaredy cat-chicken.” He said, but made no move to slide off the edge.
“Oh yeah, well why aren’t you going down there, oh brave warrior?”
They started to bicker again, and Zuko thought he could just scream from frustration. He was wet and cold. The freezing wind made his eyes water, and as he glanced down he thought that it had to be less windy at the bottom, if not warmer.
And now both Katara and Sokka had their voices raised, snapping back and forth words that were whipped away in an instant by the freezing wind. Zuko couldn’t take it anymore. He shoved between Katara and Sokka, cutting their argument off short. Then, copying Sokka’s move, he laid his penguin down on its belly and climbed on.
“Zuko, what are you doing?” Katara began, but it was too late. He had already kicked off, and in a moment he was gone.
The two Water Tribe siblings looked at each other, and then with a mutual shrug, got on their penguins. After all, even Katara had to admit that there was a bit of pride at stake. Neither one of them was going to be shown up by the Fire Nation kid on their own turf. With one deep breath they too kicked off, and headed down the steep mountain.
The first few seconds of Zuko’s first penguin-sledding ride were some of the most terrifying in his life. He was no longer cold — he was too scared to be cold. He whipped down the mountain at speeds he’d only dreamt of — the few bushes and rocks that were tall enough to peak out of the deep snow flashed by at a blur, and all he could see ahead of him was snow and the steep angle of the steep mountain-side.
Then he realized that he was safe, for he wasn’t alone. He was on top of a penguin. Its sleek feathers cut through the snow like the sharpest of knives, gliding effortlessly over and around all obstacles. It was an old bird, and this was not its first time being ridden. It swerved this way and that, keeping himself and the child safe.
And with the fear gone, pure exhilaration took its place. Zuko grinned against the stinging wind, and would have whooped for joy if he had the capability. He turned behind him and saw that Sokka and Katara were following some fifty-feet away. But he was the one cutting the trail, and they were so far behind they’d never catch up. He gripped the penguin’s feathers, silently urging it faster.
But there was a shrill voice on the wind. Again Zuko glanced back, and saw Sokka waving desperately at him, trying to get his attention. He was pointing ahead, and when Zuko looked his heart felt like it dropped down to his stomach.
Just down the mountain slope was a steep curve. The path to the right led to safety. Straight ahead and to the left looked to be a sheer drop off.
Oh no.
The penguin didn’t seem to see what he saw, and Zuko tugged on its feathers and pounded on its right shoulder, trying to get the thing to turn. But the cliff was looming close now, and out of panic Zuko looked back one more time for help... As if in slow motion he saw Katara’s lovely face, clearly saw her fear for him… and then she turned away as the penguin she was riding turned to safety. Zuko’s plowed straight ahead and he faced forward again just time to see the bottom of the world drop out from under him.
He had sometimes wondered what it would feel like to actually fly like the airbenders of legend, and for a spare second it actually felt like he was. He penguin had been sliding so fast that the simply arced out, and out…
Then gravity kicked in and they were falling. Zuko’s mouth opened in a silent scream. He flailed and kicked away from the penguin, somehow knowing that if they landed together the bird would be crushed under him. The drop seemed to last forever, although it only about twenty feet or so. Then he landed in the soft snow, and rolled over and over, throwing up a shower of brilliant white snow.
He ended up on his back, arms and legs out. At first he thought that surely he was dead, and he waited for darkness to hit him. It didn’t, of course, and after a few seconds he blinked and shook his head. The impact had rattled every bone in his body, although nothing felt like it was hurting…
“Zuko!”
“Zuko!”
Katara and Sokka came skidding to a stop beside him, having taken the more roundabout, sane way down the mountain. They rushed over, and Katara helped him sit up.
Instantly, Zuko gagged. It felt like something had lodged itself deep in his throat, around his neck scar. Zuko gagged again and coughed hard once, twice, three times, turning on all fours. Helpfully, Sokka pounded on his back.
Whatever it was came loose. Zuko swallowed hard, tasting both metallic blood and sour pus. His throat burned from inside around the scar. But it was a strange, good kind of pain. Like the pain of removing a festering splinter. He spat on the snow, and it came out both red and green. “Ugh.”
Then he stopped, and looked up at his friends. His light gold eyes were wide in surprise.
“Did you just…” Katara began. She had backed away at first, thinking that Zuko was about to throw up, but instantly she was at his side again, helping him get to his feet.
Zuko tried again. “Yes—” his voice was distorted, and he coughed again sharply into his hand, and spat, clearing the last of the blockage out. This time when he spoke his voice was normal — or as normal as it was ever going to get. There would always be a certain scratchy quality to it, and a hint of a lisp. But he would never again be forced to sit silently on the side, accidentally ostracized by muteness. “I can talk!” then, proudly, he said it again, just because he could. “I can talk!”
Katara grinned and threw her arms around him in a quick hug. “How is that possible?”
“I… I’m not sure.” It felt strange to voice his thoughts, and when Katara stepped back, he absently rubbed at his neck. “It felt like something in my throat got knocked out when I landed.”
Sokka, meanwhile, was less concerned with the why or how, but rather the result. He was practically preening. “I told you that was the best sled-run ever. You’re welcome, by the way.” He stepped forward, throwing a friendly arm about Zuko’s shoulders. “So… do you wanna go again? Maybe you’ll knock some memories loose this time.”
“Sokka!” Katara glared at her brother, hands on her hips. “He could have broken his neck!”
“He didn’t, did he? It just fixed him.” He shot back, and then turned to Zuko, addressing him like an equal for nearly the first time in their brief relationship. “What do you say? First one down the hill wins? And no shortcuts this time.”
Zuko looked back at the tall cliff and gulped painfully. That was probably the most horrible short-cut he’d ever taken. But he knew Sokka well enough now to see that the other boy was sort of testing him. There was no way he was going to back down. Not now. “Sure,” he said, to Katara’s obvious disgust. But Zuko felt fine — more than fine, and when he spat again for experiment it came out clear. He looked around for his make-shift sled and saw it standing some way off, half of its feathers ruffled up and sticking the wrong way. “I think I’ll need a new penguin, though.”
OoOoOoOoO
Zuko now had a voice in the world around him, but it didn’t mean that anything had really changed. There were still chores to be done: Food had to be gathered for the upcoming winter, and vital skills needed to be learned. But with each passing day, Zuko set his mind to his tasks. He set himself to learn as much as he could about his new life here, because now that he could talk he hated asking for help — most of the time it was only given grudgingly by the adults. He didn’t any natural skills for what they considered to be the basics, and sometimes when Zuko was feeling the most frustrated he cursed his old life — whatever it had been — and wondered if he had been good at anything back in the Fire Nation.
But he was determined to see out any task assigned. More importantly, he never gave up. And he learned… sometimes only through trial and error, but it was still learning. Each passing day was better than the last, and he knew that one day he would be just as good as all the others at fishing, and cutting line, and skinning, and all the rest.
He grew stronger too. The fever that had so racked his body on the ship had gone. Healer Kuthruk examined him, and his newly unblocked throat, and declared him as fit as any other youngster — aside from the scarring on his face and neck.
The men returned from their whaling rip soon after that, and it was a sweet moment for Zuko to clasp his hands and bow to Chief Hakoda, formally welcoming him back with a strong voice. The Chief’s eyes widened, and he ruffled Zuko’s hair and claimed that both he and Sokka had grown at least an inch since he saw them last, nearly three weeks ago.
The Chief and his brave men had brought back two whales for the tribe, and the next days were spent slicing thick slabs of meat off bone, and storing it in the smokehouse and cold-caves for the winter. It was hard, messy work which Zuko would have despised if not for Sokka promising to show him how to make spears out of the remaining whale bone.
He, Zuko, and Katara sat around the fire in Hakoda’s hut late one night, four days after the men had returned. The Chief was gone on some kind of meeting which adults found important, but the children found boring.
Zuko often spent much of his time there. Even if the large hut wasn’t always warm in temperature, it was warm in spirit. A far cry from Auya’s hut. Zuko only went there to sleep, and even then he was the first one up and out by morning.
While the boys worked at sharpening spear-points, Katara worked on her own project — a simple whalebone necklace. She had also gotten it into her head to quiz Zuko on his past life in the Fire Nation for the last hour and a half. She could, perhaps, jog his memory. It would have annoyed him, but she was his first friend he’d made here, and Zuko was nothing if not loyal.
“So, if the sun doesn’t stay down all winter, is it always like summer?” Katara asked, blinking her brilliantly blue eyes against the firelight in confusion. Zuko had just told her that the Fire Nation was centered near the equator, so there wasn’t any real distinction between the seasons. “How do you know what season it is, then?”
Zuko, who was sharpening his spear-point with a black rock and casually glancing to Sokka to see if he was doing it right, shrugged. “I don’t know. The fire sages keep a calendar. Plus, there’s always a three day festival during the summer solstice.”
She pounced immediately on that, because it was rare when he’d offer something so detailed. “Okay! Think about that, then. Think really, really, really hard. Try to remember the last solstice.”
With a sigh, he put down the sharpening rock and squeezed his eyes shut. It was no use. “It’s not working.”
“But you remember—”
“No, I don’t.” Zuko said. Katara had been at this for an hour and he was starting to get a headache. “Look, I know the Fire Nation has summer solstice festivals. I know that there’s a lot of fire works at night and more fire flakes than you can eat, but I can’t picture any of it. It’s just… gone.”
“Oh.” Katara sat, deflated for all of ten seconds before brightening. “Well, you’ll just have to think of something else then. There has to be some kind of memory left in there.”
“You mean in the big empty space that’s Zuko’s head?” Sokka chimed in, helpfully.
Zuko shoved him for that, and then passed his spear point over for inspection. “How does this look?”
The other boy gave it the eye of a professional before handing it back. “It needs to be pointier.”
They worked in silence for a few minutes, and Zuko was left alone with his thoughts. Where had all of his memories gone, anyway? Were they still there, inside of him? Would he ever get them back? Did he want to get them back?
And what kind of person was he… back then?
He had accidentally voiced this last part out loud, and Katara looked up at him with her compassionate blue eyes. Sokka, though, thought he had answer. “You know what I think?” he asked, and then continued when no one actually said anything, “I think the Fire Nation was going to do something really bad, like attack a whole bunch of helpless people in the Earth Kingdom or something. But Zuko found out, and because he’s slightly less evil than the rest of them—”
“Hey!”
“—he tried to stop it. And he did, and for punishment they scarred him and then brainwashed him so you couldn’t remember anything.”
“That’s stupid.” Katara declared.
For his part, Zuko agreed, although he did sort of like the fact that he was the hero of the story. “Fine, then how did I get on the Fire Nation ship? Healer Kuthruk told me they found me hiding in a life-raft.”
Sokka seemed to think about this for a moment. Then he shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Zuko sighed and went back to sharpening his spear-point. Sokka’s own had a curved edge, like a scythe, and he wanted to copy that.
There was the sound of crunching snow just outside the tent as two sets of feet walked by. This was nothing unusual, but the lowered voices that accompanied it, was. Instantly, it got the children’s attention, and with a mutual glance they all slid over to the side of the tent, pressing their ears against the soft blue cloth. Katara stifled a giggle, and Sokka hushed her immediately.
From their position, they could clearly hear the hushed voices of the two speakers. Kana and Auya.
“—don’t like it. Not one bit.” Auya was saying, “The Tribe has brought him back up to health, and yet he’s still here. He has his voice, now, doesn’t he?”
They were talking about him. Zuko felt his stomach clench, and behind the children — unseen and unnoticed — the small cooking fire in the center pit of the tent grew brighter.
“Yes,” Kana agreed, “he does. But surely, he’s no trouble to you, Auya?”
“Trouble?” she let out a single bark of a laugh. “No, except for the fact I can’t get any sleep at night. Who could, with Fire Nation blood that in the same tent as me — near my family and my child.”
Behind the kids, the fire flared higher.
“He’s just a boy. If Hakoda thought him any danger—”
“I know, Kana. Really, I do. But my point is this; the Tribe has done a good thing in bringing him in. It would be unfair to raise him as one of us. He lives with my family, and I know him best. Take him to… to Kyoshi Island. They’re soft hearted, and they’d never treat him wrong for being what he is.”
“No…” Katara cried, before Sokka slapped a hand over her mouth.
There was a distinct pause, and all the children held their breath, fearing they had been heard. But Kana had merely been considering Auya’s request, and finally she said, “I will speak to Hakoda about this. He has told me that the people of Kyoshi value their female children over their boys, but you are right… they would take him in.”
Auya replied with something else, but the two women were moving away from the tent now, and were quickly out of hearing range.
Sokka, Katara, and Zuko sat there for a moment unable to move for the lingering fear they’d get caught. Distantly, Zuko realized that Katara had clutched his hand and that Sokka’s fingers were digging into his shoulder. He let out a long sigh — the still unnoticed bright fire went down to normal strength — and it almost seemed to release them.
“No, they can’t do this!” Katara looked up to her big brother, fingers tightening around Zuko’s hand. “Sokka, you gotta go and tell dad that Zuko should stay right here.”
Zuko, too, was looking to Sokka. He didn’t know why. Maybe it was because Katara trusted him to lead, and so he did as well. “Auya’s lying, Sokka. She doesn’t know me! She… she doesn’t even talk to me!” He wanted to throw something in frustration. Only Katara’s tight hold on his hand kept him still. “I don’t want to leave!.”
Sokka looked at both of them for a moment, and then sighed, turning away to crawl back over and poke at the fire with a stick. For some reason, the flame had eaten though the logs he’d just put on. “Dad always said that Zuko would only be staying with us for awhile.”
“But—” Katara started to protest, and was silenced by her brother’s swift glare. He wasn’t done yet.
“So I can’t just go begging to keep him around, because his mind’s already made up. He’ll just have to see for himself that Zuko is better being Water Tribe then Fire Nation.”
“How do I do that?” Zuko asked. He dropped Katara’s hand, and paced about in agitation, feeling desperate. He didn’t want to leave everyone he knew and be adopted into some Earth Kingdom family. He loved it here. He didn’t even mind being cold — so much.
“I don’t know.” Sokka admitted, poking moodily into the fire. Then suddenly he straightened, smiling. “But I have an idea!” He stood up, “Dad’s going to take me ice fishing tomorrow. He promised a few weeks ago, remember? Why don’t you come along with us? I can lend you some fish or something when we catch them, and he’ll see that you’re such a great hunter that he’s bound to let you stay.”
“Do you really think it will work?”
“’Course. My plans always work. You can ask Katara.”
Zuko turned to Katara. She was bit her lower lip and nodded. “Yeah. Sometimes they do.” she admitted. But her eyes were shining with hope.
OoOoOoOoO
Next up: Firebending! Also, Zuko gets a memory, and Hakoda is faced with a tough decision.
Next Chapter
no subject
I liked the emotional firebending, and Auya's white lie about knowing him best still bothers me (other than that, I really accept where she's coming from).
no subject
I'm really eager to see where this will go, how far it will go for, everything. It's stuff like this that keeps my love for this fandom alive and kicking when I'm supposed to be doing other things.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
ZUZU GOT HIS VOICE BACK!!!!!!
akdsfghdisghiuhagh
<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3
I really squeed XD
I'm loving this fic <3 <3 <3 <3 <3
no subject
I am SO in love with this fic!
Keep up the excellent work, this is just pure liquid awesome!
no subject
ALSO love the detail of explaining Zuko's raspy voice! XD Didn't see that coming. Keep up the good work! <3
no subject
I read your comments after getting home from a long day, and they totally brightened my day. So... thanks again! :)
no subject
no subject
But other than minor things like that once or twice a chapter, it's perfect. Don't mind me, I'm going to continue gorging myself on goodfic now. :D
no subject