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oOoOoO
Jeong Jeong dismissed his two students at dusk with an order to return after breakfast the next day, and firmly ignored their mulish, disappointed looks. All young students were same. Even the Avatar, as bubbly and cheerful as he was, saw the value in firebending only for the flash and awe it could inspire. He clearly expected this to be fun. He had no idea of the burden of fire to the soul.
Jeong Jeong needed to meditate.
That night, a three-quarter moon rose overhead. The small hidden village was asleep; all cooking fires burned to embers, sentries nodding off at their posts and late winter peepers calling out a soft mating song.
He sat alone in his hut, knelt on a simple bamboo mat. Rows of thick waxy candles breathed with him, slow deep and even. It was the same position Aang had found him in the night before and indeed there was little change between that night and this one, except perhaps by the slight worry creased between Jeong Jeong’s dark eyebrows and the occasional flicker of the far candle flames as his own thoughts spiraled wide.
Jeong Jeong was deeply conflicted.
He would not – could not – ignore Avatar Roku’s request to teach the newest Avatar. It had been a vision sent from the spirit world itself, and Jeong Jeong knew he must heed it. But it was wrong. It felt wrong down to his very core.
The Avatar must have the discipline of the three other bending elements before he attempted to master fire. It was the way of the world: Winter came before spring, and spring preceded summer. Just as a new shoot must first grow and mature before the hot season, so must the new Avatar learn the other elements. This was the natural balance, and Jeong Jeong felt he was tampering with something vital by introducing fire to him now.
The other source of his inner disquiet was less important, but needled all the same.
There was something fundamentally off in the young prince. It wasn’t his odd garb or the fact that he was here at all when he had long thought to be dead – Jeong Jeong had his own secrets and shame, he was not one to pry into another’s. No, Jeong Jeong had been almost glad at the boy’s natural show of arrogance, else he would not think of him as a firebender at all. However, the boy had almost zero breath control. He did not spark fire of his own when prompted, but had pulled it from Jeong Jeong’s own flame. Yet his fire had sat tamed and cool in his hand. It should not be possible. Perhaps it was only luck.
The old master’s thoughts strayed wide again, reaching far back into his own memories. The scent of red-lilac came to him, for a moment so real that he breathed in deep as if to catch the aroma of his homeland once more… had he felt this strangeness from the boy before?
oOoOoO
Admiral Jeong Jeong inhaled deeply. The scent of red lilac was thick in the wind. He closed his eyes, concentrating only on that sweet-spicy smell and willing it to lead him to inner stillness. He was afraid he was going to need all the calm he could muster for this particular interview.
Prince Ozai walked beside him, hands clasped loosely behind his back. If he noticed the other man’s breathing pattern change, he made no comment. He also, it seemed, felt no reason to conceal the reason for his summons today.
“Admiral Jeong Jeong, you are renowned in the Fire Nation for your firebending training.”
Jeong Jeong tensed. “No longer, my Prince. I have vowed to take no more students.”
“I don’t see why.” Ozai said calmly. “Every single one of your pupils has been trained into a master. Why, Zhao has recently been given a captain’s commission and he’s ambitious enough to make commander within a few years.”
Jeong Jeong said nothing.
The Prince remained unconcerned. “Follow me,” he said, and turned on his heel to walk down a side corridor, expecting the other man to walk as passively behind as a well trained lion-dog. Perhaps, in Ozai’s mind, he was. Jeong Jeong’s face remained an impassive mask as he fell into step with him once more, matching the man’s even stride.
Ozai did not glance in his direction. “I know you have vowed not to take any more pupils, but this is no ordinary student.”
They came to a high veranda overlooking the palace courtyard. The royal guard were training off in the middle-distance, their weapons clacking and warrior’s calls echoing off the stone walls. Jeong Jeong felt his gaze drawn to the forefront.
The girl could not have been more than five or six years old – Jeong Jeong had no children of his own so he was not good with such estimations. She was training with what looked like the palace firebending masters. As the two men looked on, the girl sprang up in the air, executing a perfect twist; the side of her foot landed an exact mark against a high padded glove. The sharp whap of impact could be clearly heard even from where they were standing. She landed in a lithe crouch and was up again before he instructors could command, completing the move with a quick fireblast downwards to mime finishing off an imaginary opponent she had knocked to the ground.
“My daughter, Azula.” Ozai’s voice was filled with pride.
“Remarkable,” Jeong Jeong murmured.
“Her instructors tell me she is a true firebending prodigy.” He paused. “If she continues at this pace, she will be capable of blue flame within a few years.”
Jeong Jeong never took his eyes off the girl, did not let the slightest emotion crack the rigid mask he made of his face. His fingers, however, clenched into claws against the railing – thankfully hidden under the wide sleeves of his formal robes. “Only a few are capable of such fire in each generation. You must be… proud.”
The words felt like bile in his mouth. Blue flame burned hotter, the fire within that much hungrier… the line between humanity and savagery spider-silk thin.
Jeong Jeong was certain he let none of his own thoughts show on his face, but Prince Ozai was looking at him oddly. He clearly expected more enthusiasm, more awe over his prodigy daughter.
Thankfully, Jeong Jeong was saved from further explanation by the sound of light running feet. A young boy appeared in the open doorway behind them. He was perhaps a year or two older than the princess and shared Ozai’s remarkable light gold eyes.
“Father!” His face split into a grin as he raced up to the two men. “Mom an’ Uncle are going to see a play. Can I go, too? Mom said you have to say okay for me to go.”
Ozai glowered down at the boy. “Remember your manners, Zuko.”
Brought up short, the young boy executed a hastily bobbing bow, first to Ozai and then to Jeong Jeong. “Sorry Father. May I go?”
“Which play will you be seeing?”
The boy grinned again. “The one with the dragons in it!”
Love Amongst the Dragons, Jeong Jeong thought, with a bit of snide amusement. Sure enough, a look of exasperation passed over Ozai’s finely sculpted face.
“You may, but,” he held up a finger before his son could speak. “You are to conduct yourself with the utmost behavior for a young prince. You will not embarrass me with reports of temper tantrums from your mother or the servants, do you understand?”
Zuko squared his narrow shoulders, puffing out his chest with seriousness that seemed ludicrous for someone so young. “Yes Father. Thank you, Father.” Another bow – more properly done this time – before he turned to race way.
Jeong Jeong watched him leave. “Your son is also a firebender?”
He was sure to watch Ozai’s reaction of the corner of his eye and again he caught a flash of something – exasperation again, or perhaps disappointment – on the other man’s face. “His skills are average.” And he turned gain to the courtyard, dismissing the subject from his mind in favor for the more talented of the two children.
Down below, Azula was executing another perfect series of leaps and kicks. There was no doubt about it: her skill was far beyond her age group.
“I will have only the best instructors for my daughter.” Ozai said, after a moment. “I am aware you are under my brother’s command for the next year. After you are finished you are to return here and teach the princess until her skills surpass your own.”
It was nothing short of an order. No one, not even a renowned master under the weight of his own vow, could refuse his Prince. Jeong Jeong bowed.
Looking down at the girl as she flipped and spun; a bright series of hot sparks shooting from her fingertips, he saw his own soul’s destruction.
A tiny seed of discontentment had long ago been sewn into his mind, after Zhao’s betrayal and during the course of his own violent campaign in the Earth Kingdom. Watching the girl now, knowing what she would become with or without his tutelage, he felt that seed spring another tiny shoot.
Jeong Jeong never returned.
oOoOoO
Jeong Jeong slid open his eyes. His candles had burned themselves low; the wax spilling into hard puddles on the packed earth. He paid them no mind. He was certain now he had not registered anything strange about the young prince at that point – he had barely acknowledged the boy at all. Average, Ozai had said, and perhaps that was the case.
Control, he told himself firmly. He would prescribe a regiment of meditation and breathing lessons for them both.
If the Avatar did not wish to master bending the other three elements then Jeong Jeong could at least be certain to drill him in the basics. He would be disciplined, he would be calm and in complete control before Jeong Jeong would let him touch live fire. Breath control could only help the prince as well, and smooth out whatever oddness he felt from him.
Tomorrow, he would work the two together.
oOoOoO
Jeong Jeong told his pupils to meet him shortly after breakfast after that first frustrating day. So Aang and Zuko had some time to kill after they woke. Sokka announced he was going to get some well deserved fishing time in and set off down the river with a borrowed pole and bits of stale bread to use as fish bait.
Katara, meanwhile, had been practicing on her own and wanted to show off her water whip. She had gotten better with the waterbending scroll as a guide. Her whip struck at or very close to its mark every single time.
Zuko and Aang exchanged a silent dubious glance: Katara had progressed far already while they had spent all yesterday breathing and feeling the sun.
Naturally, Aang was first to get over his jealousy. Soon he had shed his shoes and stood next to Katara in the ankle-deep water to perfect his own waterwhip. Not to be outdone, Zuko lit a small campfire from a nearby pit and joined them.
After awhile, the three benders stood side by side in the peaceful stream, setting challenges for each other on who could hit what and then deciding to strike at once; two waterbenders and one firebender stepped forward in unison with the same fluid grace. The tips of the three elemental whips converged at the same point – and unlucky stone stuck halfway out of the ground. The force of the joined impact sent small chips of rock exploding in all directions.
“Wow!” Aang exclaimed, wiping his forehead free of sweat with the back of his hand. “I can’t wait to do that with fire. What do you think, guys? Fire in this hand and water in the other!” He then brought his hand together in a playful clap.
Zuko smirked and turned to stream more of the campfire’s flames into his hands for another round – and nearly jumped out of his skin when he caught sight of a man watching them from a nearby footbridge, not twenty feet away.
“Master Jeong Jeong!” he yelped, catching Aang and Katara’s attention. His concentration shattered, the small stream of fire fell short and landed in the water with a steamy hiss.
The master’s expression was… unreadable, but Zuko could feel the force of his gaze drill into him even from so far away. Why? He had not done anything wrong.
“If you are done playing,” Jeong Jeong’s eyebrow rose up his forehead in displeasure. “There’s real practice to be done.”
“Yes master Jeong Joeng,” Aang and Zuko said in unison, bowing quickly.
Katara giggled behind her hands as the boys hastily sloshed out of the stream and retrieved their shoes.
oOoOoO
Zuko was sure he felt the older firebender’s gaze on him several times over the next hour as Jeong Jeong shepherded his students up a winding forest path. Every time he turned, however, Jeong Jeong was looking in another direction.
Jeong Jeong remained stoic and remote, walking up the sharp incline calmly with his hands clasped behind his back, without a hint of exhaustion.
Aang was more than happy to fill the silence for their teacher. He had taken his journey as a good sign and constantly elbowed Zuko, whispering in excitement about the types of moves they would probably be learning, and how his friend Kuzon from the Fire Nation could make a fire blast at least thirty feet long.
The path wound its way up to a mountain of bald yellowed shale – bare of any grasses or vegetation. Aang’s grin widened at the sight and he couldn’t hold back anymore.
“Are we coming up here so we don’t burn anything with our fire blasts?”
Jeong Jeong didn’t even look at him. “No fire yet.”
“What?!” Aang whirled to Zuko, as if seeking confirmation, but looked just as surprised. “Then why did you bring us here?”
The old man stood straight and tall, his back to them. A slight breeze tugged at his heavy robes. “Power in firebending comes from the breath. That is why you must master proper breath control.” He did not so much as turn his head, but he might as well have been pointing at Zuko. “And you,” now to Aang, “must learn both patience and discipline. Assume your stance…Wider!”
He left them only a short time later after vague instructions to inhale through the nose and exhale out the mouth, to widen their stances, feel the heat of the sun and once again meditate on the balance it provided.
Zuko’s mouth pinched into an unhappy line, but he stood firm on the bare hill with hands clenched strongly at his sides. The pose felt unnatural, uncomfortable to him. And as weak as the winter sun was, it was still much warmer than high summer at the South Pole. A trail of sweat dripped down his spine making his pale blue tunic stuck to his back, clammy and uncomfortable.
But it was Aang who broke first, letting out an exhale through his mouth that was more out of frustration than meditation. “This is boring!”
Zuko remained quiet with the hope that if he said nothing, the other boy would settle back down. No such luck. Aang only sighed again, louder this time.
“He’s probably going to have us up here all day long,” Aang continued, sounding more peevish. “I already know how to breathe and feel the sun.”
He had a good point. This wasn’t what he had hoped for firebending training at all, yet somehow… Zuko wasn’t quite surprised. Letting out a long breath, Zuko cracked open his good eye. It wasn’t often that he found himself being the voice of reason and he had to think for a moment to find the right thing to say. “Look, Jeong Jeong has been a master for a long time. He probably knows what he’s doing.”
“But this is so boring! Couldn’t you teach me something?” Aang wheedled. “Just how to make the littlest fire?”
“No.”
“Ugh!” Aang broke his stance and ran a hand over his bare scalp in agitation. “I’m going to talk to Jeong Jeong.”
“No, Aang, get back here!” Zuko reached for him, but Aang had already stepped off the sharp side of the hill. His orange overcoat billowed up around his ears as he floated gently to the ground.
Zuko scowled down at the other boy, and considered going down to get him – he’d march him right back up the hill and make him take his training seriously. Only Zuko’s pride held him back. He wouldn’t go hunting after Aang just to get yelled at again and sent back up the hill by Jeong Jeong – Let Aang get in trouble on his own.
So Zuko stepped back in his stance again, widened his feet, and focused on breathing. He had to believe that there was some point to this business… even if he didn’t know what it was yet.
The sun blazed higher and ever hotter in the sky, and Zuko could feel the skin on the back of his neck start to burn. He sighed and untied his wolfstail, but he soon felt even more uncomfortable with his hair all in his eyes; his shirt nearly plastered to his back with sweat.
And Aang still hadn’t returned.
“This is ridiculous,” he growled, straitening up. How was anyone supposed to concentrate like this?
As much as he hated to admit it, Aang might have had a point. What was the use staying up there all day anyway when he could have been doing something useful, like perfecting his firewhip? Zuko was trying… he really was, but he was hot and cranky and somehow he didn’t think that standing up here breathing all day was going to help him next time he met Iroh. The fat old prince wasn’t going to be impressed by his newfound breathing techniques in the least.
Reluctantly, he abandoned his post and trudged back down the hill.
oOoOoO
He half expected to run into Aang and Jeong Jeong coming back up the path, but he met no one – had everyone forgotten about him? Maybe Jeong Jeong did intend for them to stay up there all day.
Zuko had nearly reached the hidden village again when the sound of excited voices made him stop in his tracks – He could hear Katara and Aang off in the distance. Although he was too far away to understand the words, the warning in Katara’s tone caught his attention right away. He pushed through the last few bushes, and froze.
Aang stood on a dry upraised stone near the edge of the quiet meditation pond, and Katara was facing him across the small gap of water. Somehow, the young monk managed a respectable flame in the palm of his hand. With one quick circular movement Aang split the fire into three parts, juggling his element like balls.
His flames were rough and red with ragged edges. It was clear Aang didn’t have complete control.
Zuko strode out of the brush. “Aang!” he barked. “Stop!”
But Aang was caught up in his enjoyment of this new game. He didn’t hear the other boy at all over his own happy laughter, and tossed the flames higher, twisting about in an airbending move.
Zuko knew what was going to happen, it seemed, before it even did. He leapt forward into a sprint, feeling the whole world slow to a crawl. He was too slow… too slow… Aang’s arms cast out, and his expression changed from delighted to alarmed as the fire rolled away from him in every direction.
The flames were wild and fast– so much faster than Zuko was. He reached out, instinctively trying to gain control of the racing fire and turn it away…
He had not been ready for Aang’s raw power, the heat or the sheer force. The flames rolled past Zuko’s hands.
And Katara screamed.
The world seemed to skip time for a second, and when it came back Zuko was staring dumbstruck at Katara. She knelt crumpled on the ground with her hands clutched to her chest.
Aang leapt over the small creek. “Katara! Oh no – Are you alright?”
Alright? Alright?! Zuko rounded on Aang. “What do you think?!” He stepped forward, so furious he didn’t know if he wanted to grab the young monk and shake him, or just punch him.
But Sokka managed to get to him first. Alerted by the raised voices as Zuko had been, he pelted in from nowhere, the fishing pole forgotten back in the river. Getting between the two, he shoved Aang back, knocking him viciously to the ground. “Look what you did! You burned my sister!”
“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to!” Aang looked at the two brothers looming over him, wide-eyed. “I’m sorry!”
Zuko didn’t care. “Jeong Jeong told us to be careful. He told us not to mess around.”
“I know—”
“Then why didn’t you listen?!” His last few words were almost a shout. Aang shrank back, but Zuko wasn’t impressed. Something hot and painful was burning up though his chest, boiling his blood. Bright yellow sparks danced off his palms. His fingers were claws at his sides. He advanced on the other boy, shouldering Sokka out of the way. “Everything’s just fun and games to you! And --and you don’t care! There is a war going on, but you would rather fly around and play with fire like it was a new toy. This isn’t a game, Aang!”
Aang didn’t speak up, didn’t say anything in his own defense. He stared up at Zuko, his eyes so round and wide that Zuko could see the outline – a reflection of himself – as a large dark distorted figure standing over the boy… as ready to strike him down.
Zuko’s mind stuttered to a halt. The breath died in his throat. He took an involuntary step back. Then another.
Aang was saying he was sorry over and over again – he probably didn’t know he was saying it at this point. Zuko only knew he didn’t want to hear it. He felt sick, nauseated. The ragged edges of his vision were dark, the remaining overly bright and contorted.
And in the edge of his perception he saw Katara rise, hands still clutched to her chest. She fled the meadow, weeping.
“You’d better go after her.” Sokka was still glowering narrow-eyed at Aang, but shot Zuko a quick glance when he hesitated. “No offense, but you have the most experience with burns.”
Zuko nodded, dumbly. Sokka had apparently not seen what he’d… what he’d almost done.
“Yeah… right,” he murmured.
Aang’s face was awash with anguish, but Zuko couldn’t quite meet his eye. He turned and strode away, slightly stiff-legged, in the way that Katara had gone.
It wasn’t hard to find her. She had run to the outskirts of the village and had come to rest where a small grassy incline led to a bend in the river. She was knelt over again with her arms tucked inward to her chest, sniffling. Zuko’s heart contracted – he knew how much it took to make her cry.
“How bad is it?” he asked, coming over to kneel beside her. In truth, he wasn’t sure what he could do. Katara was the one who always provided first aid. She had always stepped in and taken care of things when Sokka got a fishhook stuck in his hand, or if he cut himself on a jagged piece of ice. Now, looking down at her, burned and crying, Zuko felt lost and unsure… and small.
Katara only shook her head and turned her face away, as if to hide her tears. “You shouldn’t have been so rough with Aang… it was only an accident.”
He should have objected, should have told her Aang knew better – because he did – but looking at her right then, Zuko only thought of how he couldn’t stop the fire, how it had slipped right past him. He hadn’t been strong enough to hold the Avatar’s fire, and because of that his little sister had been burned.
“Let me see your hands,” he said, roughly.
She hesitated only a moment longer. Then slowly, painfully, she uncurled her arms from her middle, uttering a strangled little cry when the raw flesh hit air; fresh tears running down her face. But she was so obviously trying to remain strong he said nothing of it.
Zuko let out a long breath. He had thought – no, he had expected her hands to look shiny and raw of flesh… like the left side of his face. Instead, a series of thin angry red lines ribboned the front and back of her hand, extending upward past her wrist and to the middle of his forearm. Blisters were already forming up along the edges of the burns, thick and yellow.
It was still bad. And he might have burn experience as Sokka said, but only as the victim. He didn’t know what he could do for her at all.
“You’re going to have to talk me through this,” he murmured. “What do I need to do?”
Katara shook her head, gritting her teeth. “Bandages and… I don’t know what else. Back home there’s a lichen to stop infection… I don’t know what’s around here.”
Bandages they had, packed away on Appa’s saddle. Zuko looked around, hoping for some inspiration for the short-term, and spied the river. “Let’s soak the burns. It might help with the pain.”
Gently holding her elbow, he guided her to the edge of the bank. Katara grimaced again when he helped lower her hands into the cold water; and his heart twisted again in his chest. He could only stand to the side and pat her back awkwardly, feeling worse than useless.
Perhaps the simple touch helped… Katara leaned back slightly into his hand and closed her eyes, letting out a long breath -- as if to regain her composure.
The water around her hands began to glow bright blue.
“Katara…”
His first impulse was to snatch her hands back out – there was clearly something wrong in the water. But Katara’s expression stopped him. She’d opened her eyes, her face no longer pained, but amazed. And when she lifted her arms up the water still glowed blue for a moment or two before falling away, transparent again, and leaving new skin behind.
“What the…” Zuko reached out to touch her hand. A bare minute ago there had been red welts there, but now there was only whole tanned skin. “What did you – How did you do that?”
“I don’t know. I just felt a sort of imbalance and then…” she shook her head and glanced over to him. The tears were gone, and now her face was alive with excitement and wonder. “Wait.” She reached out and grabbed his arm. “Zuko, you’re hurt!”
“What?” He looked down. One of his pale hands was red with heat rash – he hadn’t been able to divert all of Aang’s fire after all. It stung, but not badly. He had hardly even noticed in everything that happened afterwards. “It’s nothing.”
But Katara had already turned to the river and with a gesture, steamed a globe of water into her hand. “Here, let me see.” Pulling his arm across her lap, she let the water coat over her hand like a glove and put it over the rash. It glowed bright blue under her power. He winced, but the sting melted away almost instantly to cool relief. A breath later the water dribbled away to leave whole, unmarked skin.
Their eyes met, mirrored in mutual amazement. Then her gaze flickered, ever so briefly, to the left side of his face.
“She has healing abilities.”
The moment broke and Zuko and Katara turned to see Jeong Jeong striding towards them. “You’ve seen someone heal like this before?” Katara asked, in awe.
He nodded, and something sad flashed over his craggy features. “It is said the great waterbenders can stitch wounds without sting-gut and mend bones in only a moment’s time.” He sat next to them without invitation, staring in to the gently flowing river.
Zuko could hardly look at the old master – Jeong Jeong’s words from that first argument played again in his mind, almost mocking. Do you think you are strong enough to hold the Avatar?
“I guess you were right,” Zuko said. The bitterness burned hot in this throat. “I couldn’t stop the fire or save Katara.”
“Fire will often burn those who are foolish enough to step in its path,” the old master replied. Then he sighed. “What happened was inevitable.”
“What do you mean?”
“It is the curse of fire.” The trace of sadness was gone as if it had never been there. He still stared into the water, his expression as hard and chiseled as stone. “One slip, one moment of lost control and you will destroy yourself and everyone you love.”
And hadn’t he been close, so very close to striking at Aang in anger less than an hour ago? Zuko swallowed hard and looked away, a hand going to his own chest where he felt the lingering heat of his inner-fire.
Seeing this and the horrible, uncertain look on her brother’s face, Katara’s inner hackles went up. “That’s not fair! Zuko has never burned anyone, and what Aang did was an accident.”
“Fair? The destinies care nothing for fair.” Jeong Jeong dipped a hand in the cold river and lifted a palmful of it to eyelevel. “Your element is cool and sustains life. You can heal, while fire… Fire rages and burns. It brings only pain and destruction. What in this is fair, that some are given the gift to heal and others only to destroy?” He paused then and shook his head, leaving the two teens stunned. After a moment, he seemed to collect himself. He looked to Zuko. “This is why I cannot teach you firebending.”
The boy flinched as if he had been slapped. “Please, give me a second chance. I promise I’ll work harder.” The shame of begging for it washed over him like a wave, cracking his voice. The thought of failure, though, was far worse. “I’ll go back and do all the breathing exercises… Whatever basics you want.”
“Wait,” Katara said, putting a hand on her brother’s arm to still him. She looked to Jeong Jeong. “You can’t train him, or you won’t?”
This earned her a respectful nod. “I cannot teach him firebending.” He focused on Zuko once more. “I saw you with the Avatar. A firebender would have tried to block the flame or attack its caster to dispel it. Instead, you attempted to turn it into your own and route it away. Your instinct is to turn your defense into an offense – this is not the mindset of a true firebender. ”
Zuko bristled. “I am a firebender.” And he lifted his hand palm up in demonstration, lighting his customary many pointed flame which threatened to spill over the sides like water.
Jeong Jeong raised a thin eyebrow at the boy. “Perhaps in form, but we would both be fools to train against the spirit.”
“But…” He clenched his fist, extinguishing the fire. “Prince Iroh told me once that the way I way I bend made me weak.”
“You are a dragon who has learned to swim rather than fly. I have never seen the like. It is… not natural.”
“But—“
“No!” Jeong Jeong snapped. “There is nothing you can learn from me. You must train with a waterbending master.”
His pronouncement struck like a blow. Katara and Zuko exchanged a long amazed look between them, but before either one could find words, Jeong Jeong spoke again.
“I have always envied the waterbenders.” And there was a note of longing in his gruff voice neither had heard before. “There are stories of the ancient ones, the first firebenders who learned from the dragons: The Sun Warriors. It is said their firebending was pure. They were… in complete balance with themselves and their element.”
Zuko blinked. “So you’re saying there’s more than one way to firebend?”
Jeong Jeong didn’t answer for a long moment. Then, “Even the greatest river can change its course to the ocean.”
“So… is that a yes?” Katara asked.
A sudden bloom of fire across the river cut his answer short. Jeong Jeong was on his feet in a flash, so fast that neither Katara or Zuko saw him move. The old master blocked the flames with a solid fist, and another with a sweep of his own fire and a kick.
And just for the fleetest of moments while Zuko and Katara got to their feet… Zuko thought he understood, just a little, how fundamentally different the other firebender was from himself. Jeong Jeong not reroute the fire, did not twist it to the side. He stood firm and dispelled the flames with his own. His offense was his defense.
Zuko turned his defense into an offense. Jeong Jeong’s offense was his defense.
The realization was there and then pushed away in the next second. There were other things to worry about. No less than four river boats were chugging their way up the river. It was too far away to see faces, but at least ten red armed men stood attention on each deck.
Jeong Jeong turned to the two Water Tribe teens, his eyes blazing with inner fire. “The Fire Nation has found this place. You must take your friends and flee. Leave now and never return!”
Katara turned to run, but Zuko hung back.
“No, I’m not leaving. We can help you!”
For the first time, something flickered in Jeong Jeong’s eyes. Something that was almost… relief. “It was never my destiny to train the Avatar. He must find another master, and so must you Prince Zuko.”
Prince. Zuko gaped stupidly at the man for a moment. Jeong Jeong… knew? All along? And he said nothing?
“Go!” Jeong Jeong barked, seeing his hesitation.
There was no time to ask questions. The boats were nearly to the shore and Katara was pulling him by the arm. Reluctantly, Zuko turned and retreated up the bank with her – back to the path that led to the village. He looked over his shoulder only once to see Jeong Jeong raise a literal curtain of fire behind them – shielding their escape from the Fire Nation boats, and possibly dooming his own.
oOoOoO
Commander Zhao’s fists clenched as he watched the two Water Tribe peasants scale up the embankment – running like the rat-fleas they were. Halfway across the river, it was hard to spot features, but he caught a glimpse of black hair from the boy, and the reddened patch of skin on the left side of his face.
“After them!” he roared, pivoting to the helmsman.
This river was wide and shallow, only thigh-deep in places. Zhao was tempted to leap in and charge after them himself, but the still healing skin pulled painfully cross his chest, cutting off that impulse. He would be forced to land and disembark the usual way.
An orange and yellow curtain of fire erupted from nowhere, obscuring the peasant’s escape and forcing the boats to make a sharp turn to shore. Zhao turned – and nearly laughed out loud. It had been years since he’d seen his old master… Years of travel had not been kind to the man. His face was leathered from the sun, his unbound hair now steel gray, his robes dusty and patched. Once, Jeong Jeong had been a great man. Now, he was a savage.
Again Zhao’s first impulse was to leap down. Perhaps he should cut through the curtain of fire himself just to show his perpetually unpleaseable master how he had grown. Finally show him once and for all that control meant nothing in the face of raw power.
And again the sharp pain from his burns stopped him, giving him a moment to think twice. So he went for plan B, signaling the compliment of river boats to converge on the narrow beach rather than splitting them up in search of the Avatar and that traitor prince.
No, this prize was a little closer to the heart.
oOoOoO
Side by side, Katara and Zuko burst from the foliage back into the village. Sokka was perched back on his fishing rock, scowling down at a pool of minnows. He looked up at their approach. “Katara, you’re okay?”
“I’m fine. Where’s Aang?”
Her eldest brother’s dark look returned and jerked a thumb towards the direction of Jeong Jeong’s hut. “He’s in there.”
Katara nodded and jogged off, leaving Zuko to make a quick explanation. “There’s a fleet of Fire Nation river boats coming up the river,” he said. “Go load up Appa. We need to leave.” Then, before Sokka could comment, he rushed off to join Katara.
Sure enough, Aang was back in Jeong Jeong’s hut. He had taken position in the back of the small building, looking lonely and small amid a dozen lit candles. Seeing him like that, Zuko’s felt an unexpected stab of guilt… He had been harsh on the kid, unduly so, looming over and screaming at him like… like a Fire Nation monster.
Aang’s back was to them. He didn’t turn his head, but he seemed to sense their approach all the same.
“I’m so sorry, Katara. Jeong Jeong told me I wasn’t ready. Zuko tried to me to be careful and I didn’t listen.”
She stepped forward. “Aang, it’s okay. I’m all right.”
“What?” He turned, disbelieving, until she held out her hands. Even in the dim candlelight it was obvious they were unblemished. Aang’s grey eyes widened. “How?”
“I’ll explain later.” She stepped to him, but he drew back, eyes still on her hands.
He shook his head. “No, Katara. I really hurt you. I’m never going to firebend again. I can’t.”
“Aang—”
“No,” he said. “I mean it. Never again.” And his words had the weight of a vow.
“You’re the Avatar. You’re going to have to learn some time.” She turned to Zuko. “Say something.”
But Zuko could think only of his own helplessness as Aang’s fire had slipped past his fingers, Katara’s scream, and how he had been close, so close when Aang had been on the ground apologizing, to… to doing something unthinkable. He turned his face away.
Katara made a sound of disgust in the back of her throat for the two boys. Then, “Well, we have to get out of here. The Fire Nation is coming up the river with boats. Jeong Jeong is fighting them off, but we have to get out of here.”
“What?!” This news, at least, seemed to energize him into action. Aang was up in a blink and already heading to the door. “We have to save him!”
“Hold it!” Aang was already past Katara, but Zuko was quicker. He reached out and snagged Aang by his overcoat before he could bolt outside. “He’s doesn’t need our help. Jeong Jeong’s a great master – He knows what he’s doing.”
Aang looked like he wanted to argue, but Zuko’s glare quailed him – or maybe he was still shaken from earlier because he finally nodded, looking down.
oOoOoO
They met Sokka and Appa at the edge of the village; Appa’s lowing bellows echoed through the forest clearing. Somehow, the bison always knew when something was wrong – perhaps he had learned the smell of Fire Nation soldiers. In any case, he greeted Aang with a sloppy lick, and the moment everyone had settled into the basket he flapped his wide tail and vaulted into the air.
The kids all went to the side and looked down to see what had happened – but the village was hidden from above. The only hint of its fate came from curls of smoke drifting up from under the tree-tops.
Aang groaned and flopped backwards. “I hope Jeong Jeong’s okay.”
“Of course he is,” Zuko said, a little too sharply. But he couldn’t help glancing again to the village – the smoke was thickening. When he spoke again, it was almost to himself. “They’ve all been evading the Fire Nation for a long time now. They will be okay.”
Sokka took the moment of silence that followed to settle between them all, his favorite of Aang’s old map’s rolled flat. “Well that was fun, and I’m sure you guys all learned a lot,” he said, sarcastically. “Can we please go to the North Pole now?”
His words were met with silence; everyone else had looked away. Aang and Zuko were not meeting each other’s eyes. Finally, Sokka gave a sigh.
“Look, I was angry too, but… Katara, you turned out to be okay, right?”
She nodded as she out her unburned right arm in proof. “If Aang hadn’t burned me, I might not have learned how to heal myself using water.”
“You learned what!?” Sokka squawked, and it seemed for a moment he was going to say more. Maybe something about how it sure would have been nice for her to learn this earlier – like that time he got the those two fishhooks stuck in his thumb – but Zuko and Aang still weren’t looking at each other, so he reined himself in with effort, putting on a cheerful smile instead. “Okay, well that’s a good thing then… I guess. Katara learned a skill, and you guys learned some firey-stuff. So let’s just apologize and forget about this.”
“I’m so sorry—” Aang began, but Zuko cut him off.
“I don’t think I should teach you firebending.”
Sokka groaned. “Buddy, I hate to tell you, but you really need to work on your apologies.”
Zuko ignored him. Aang was looking shocked, and hurt… wearing the same exact expression he himself had when Jeong Jeong told him the same thing an hour earlier. “It’s not you,” he said, quickly. “I know—What you did was an accident, and it could have happened to anyone. But I should have been able to stop the fire… and I couldn’t.” He sighed, reaching up to rub at the bridge of his nose. “Jeong Jeong told me that he can’t teach me because I’m different from the other firebenders. I’ve learned to swim – or something. You know how he talks.”
“No.” Katara shook her head. “Weren’t you listening to him, Zuko? He hates what he is! He told us that he hates being a firebender.” She reached out, taking her brother’s hand in hers. He looked down, avoiding her eyes. “I know that you respect him as a master, but I think he’s just a bitter old man. You are a good firebender, Zuko.” She turned to Aang. “And you will be too.”
But Aang looked less than reassured. “I don’t know, Katara. Some of the things Jeong Jeong said made a lot of sense. He said I wasn’t ready to work with fire, and he was right.”
“I don’t want to stop firebending.” Zuko said. “I can’t. It’s a part of me, but whatever I teach you, Aang, won’t be the right way.”
“It’s okay.” Aang offered a small smile for his friend. “I meant what I said, earlier. I’m never firebending again.”
Zuko glanced at him, but said nothing.
Katara looked between the two boys, equally exasperated with them both. “Well,” she said, shortly, “Jeong Jeong did say that you should learn your style from a waterbending master, and Aang and I have to learn waterbending anyway.”
The little monk brightened noticeably at that. “Yeah! Maybe we can all learn together.”
“Maybe…” Zuko looked doubtful. He and Katara had learned some bending from each other, and there was no doubt now that his bending was different from Jeong Jeong’s and Iroh’s… but was it possible to learn firebending from a waterbending master? Would firebending that way make him weak, like Iroh said?
He thought again at his rage as he had loomed over Aang… the feeling of fire and power bubbling up, just under his skin. How could a Master Waterbender help him with that?
Katara just smiled at the two of them, heedless to Zuko’s discomfort. She wasn’t done with her argument yet. It was her nature to redirect and find another route to success. She’d already gotten them to agree on this common point… it wouldn’t be so hard to work on them both. Her thoughts turned inward, her fingers reaching back to touch the waterskin she’d taken to carrying with her.
She could heal now, but would what she was thinking even be possible?
She looked again at her brother, but Zuko didn’t meet her gaze, too busy frowning at his own thoughts. Katara bit her bottom lip and looked away.
“Great,” Sokka said, breaking the silence. “I’m glad we got that figured out. So now can we head to the North Pole?”
oOoOoO
Look at him, Zhao thought as two of his men emerged from the underbrush, their captive bound between them. To think I wasted years admiring this man. What a young fool I was.
Zhao said nothing as Jeong Jeong – once Jeong Jeong the Great, and now Jeong Jeong the Deserter – was brought before him. Zhao stood tall in front of his old master, making sure to turn slightly so that the late slating sunlight glinted off his Commander’s pin. An officer kicked the legs out of The Deserter, bringing him down to his knees in front of his former student. He made no sound, no protest.
Zhao hardly heard his officer’s report, how the traitor had given them quite the chase into the forest. How the old man had then doubled back and ambushed them seemingly out of nowhere, probably to give time to the escaping Avatar and the rest of the villagers… how it had finally taken ten men to bring him down.
The Commander smiled at the end of the report, tall and gloating. “Bad enough to turn coward and deserter, but to be found aiding the traitor Prince and the Avatar?” He paused for effect, but Jeong Jeong did not react. “The Fire Lord will have your head on a pike, if he’s feeling generous.”
“You are a fool,” Jeong Jeong said calmly, and with the same displeasure he’d shown when Zhao was his student. “You are no match for the Avatar. I have never felt such raw power… Someone such as yourself could never hope to best that boy – either of them.”
The half healed scald marks under Zhao’s tunic flared in pain suddenly. The Commander snarled boiling rage and before Jeong Jeong had so much as the chance to flinch he struck his bound prisoner hard across the face.
A trickle of blood ran freely down from Jeong Jeong’s nose, but when he raised his head his eyes were clear and calm. And his gaze… his gaze was of pity and knowing.
He knew.
“Take him away!” Zhao snapped. “Secure him in the hold. The rest of you, why are you standing around? Go retrieve the Avatar—”
“Uh, sir?” His Second Lieutenant, an older man named Chuuzi, pointed skyward.
A bulk of white and brown was passing by overhead, just visible through the high gaps in the canopy. All around the men who had served Zhao in the past, tensed, awaiting for their Commander’s explosion of rage. Zhao’s eyes narrowed, and he turned to watch the air bison’s progress away, but he remained eerily silent… and still.
“Sir?” Chuuzi ventured.
“Belay that,” Zhao said, with such calm that the men tensed all over again – only this time from pure shock. “Prince Iroh has made it clear that the Avatar is his prize.” And his dishonor that the brat was still free, were the rest of the words, implied but left unsaid. Zhao looked down at the Jeong Jeong and smiled again… a sly, wicked thing. “Better yet, I do believe Prince Ozai still has unfinished business with you.”
oOoOoO
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I love how this plays out- very similar, but you get more insights into what's going on.
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Good job with Jeong Jeong and the way he thinks. Poor Zuko, though it's good to see it spelled out how his training with waterbenders has seriously changed the way he firebends. I wonder what he'll be like once Pakku gets done with him.
Seriously winced when I saw Aang going off with the others rather than going back to help Jeong Jeong. Knew that was going to end badly for everyone's favorite old bastard firebender.
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=D I WANT MORE NAAAAAAOOO.
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And I have no idea what's going to happen. That's awesome.
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Love this fic. LOVE.
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