[Fic]: Scars
Title: Scars
Fandom: Avatar: the Last Airbender
Characters: Song, Zuko
Rating: G/K
Wordcount: 864
Summary: Zuko seeks Song out to make amends. Song is not going to forgive him easily.
Notes: Written for the atlaland Seven Fanworks Challenge. "Yun Hee" is the name I've given Song's mother; it's a Korean name that means "lotus flower and pleasure".
It was just past dawn when Song stepped outside to tend to the runner ducks.
She blinked to see an entire entourage just beyond the gate, with a man in rich red robes and a golden crown staring at where Ba Hen was tied by the barn.
Her eyes narrowed as she saw the burn scar around the man's left eye -- and the ostrich-horse just behind him.
The man -- Junior -- turned his head and saw her. He shifted awkwardly. "Hello," he said.
Song went back inside and shut the door behind her.
He was still there an hour later, entourage and all, when she could no longer put off taking care of the animals. She held her head high as she walked to the barn, not allowing her gaze to slide to them. He didn't deserve her attention.
She fed the runner ducks and gathered their eggs, then checked their pond for algae. After she took the eggs inside, she went back to tend to her ostrich-horse. Ba Hen whickered, as though sensing her buried anger and hurt, and nuzzled her.
"I'm all right," she whispered to him, hugging his neck briefly. She led Ba Hen to the trough, allowed him to feed, then tied him by the barn again.
She hesitated, letting herself look at Junior for the first time.
Something filled his eyes as she did -- something that died when she put Ba Hen in the barn and locked it.
"Why have travellers camped outside our house?" her mother asked an hour later.
Song shrugged carelessly. "Junior is back," she said neutrally.
Yun Hee pursed her lips. "I see," she said softly. "And his uncle?"
"I did not see him," Song replied, glancing at her mother.
"It's just as well," Yun Hee said after a moment.
Song nodded, then abruptly left the room.
She could still see Junior and his entourage outside the fence.
Two days later, Song could ignore them no longer.
She stood at the gate, hands balled into fists, and stared at Junior. "What do you want?" she demanded.
Offended by her manner, one of the courtiers drew himself up. "Do you have any idea who he is, wench?"
Song's head snapped to him. "He is a thief," she said coldly, and saw Junior flinch out of the corner of her eye. "That's all I need to know."
"Now, see here," the man started, but Junior silenced him with a chop of the hand.
"Enough," he said. "She's right."
He stepped forward, away from his men and his followers and the ostrich-horse he brought with him. Then, to Song's suprise, he prostrated himself on the path before her, forehead against the ground.
"F-Firelord!" protested another, and Song's eyes narrowed. She bit her tongue, however -- she would give him a chance to say his piece before she kicked him off her property, Firelord or no.
After a moment, he raised his head, but remained on the ground. "Song..." He hesitated, as if seeking words. "I... I did you a great wrong, when we first met."
"And you think this makes up for it?" she demanded, gesturing to the ostrich-horse.
"No," he said quietly. "I brought the ostrich-horse to replace the one I took from you. I... can't make up for breaking your trust."
"You're right," she agreed, turning away and starting back to the house. "You can't."
"I'd like to try."
Song stopped and turned to face him again. Had he just...?
"Firelord, you can't be serious!" protested another courtier. "You have more important things to do than appease an upstart peasant."
Junior -- the Firelord -- stood abruptly and turned to face the man. "Are those remarks addressed to me?" he demanded.
Despite herself, she took a step back.
So did the entourage.
"There is an inn back in the town," the Firelord said, still in that fell tone. "You can take your ease while I deal with this matter."
"But-"
"Go," he ordered. "This is something none of you understand, therefore you will wait elsewhere."
After a moment, an older woman spoke. "Understood, Firelord," she said. "We will expect your return this evening."
He nodded, and she herded the nobles away.
The Firelord watched them go, then turned to her, removing the golden crown from his topknot as he did and tucking it away in his robe. "What would you have me do?" he asked Song now.
"You can't do me a favour and make it all better, you know," she snapped.
"I know," he said, and his eyes were sad. "I have done many people wrong. I want to do whatever is necessary to repair the damage I've done."
Song watched him for a moment, wondering how sincere he truly was. Then she opened the gate. "Very well," she said quietly. "But you won't fix everything in just a day."
He nodded his assent. "I'd like to at least make a start."
"Come inside," she told him. "You can change into something suitable."
He bowed low. "Thank you, Song," he said.
"What's your real name?" she asked as she led him to the house.
"Zuko," he told her. "My name is Zuko."