more Jin/Zuko. spread the love...
Title: Homeward Bound
Author: me, did you guess?
Rating: pg-13 , reference to torture, some sensuality
Length: 1700 words
This is directly connected to my last fic, so please, pop on over there and give it a read first. :)
He didn’t know what to expect the first time he saw her again. He imagined, in a best-case scenario, a heartfelt reunion, complete with tears and hugs and apologies lovingly accepted and exchanged for promises of the future. He hoped he hadn’t messed up this one thing so badly it could not be fixed. More realistically, all he wanted for was the chance to explain himself. After that, it would be up to her how things went. If she never wanted to see him again, he wouldn’t blame her. He just hoped she wouldn’t pull a knife on him (he knew for a fact she knew how to handle one, though not as well as another girl Zuko knew).
Walking down the hallway to her room was on par with any of the other terrifying ordeals he’d had to deal with in his life. He’d faced down the frontlines of armies, fought countless losing battles simply because he never backed down. Dragons had seen his sins and judged him. He’d finally stood before his father in opposition and, when the time came to fight, he fought bravely and won.
And now he was terrified. A lot could happen in eight months. A lot had happened. He was suddenly and terribly apprehensive, and the impulse to turn and flee was powerful. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea, maybe he should wait and think it through again.
Then suddenly he was standing in front of her open door, and then there she was, staring back at him with the same sort of incredulous, dubious look he must have had on, and the awkwardness of it all was so familiar to them, he could have cried with relief when she cleared her throat and said “Hi, Zuko.”
All the prepared speeches about duty and honor and destiny all fled his brain when he saw her. Jin looked neither happy nor sad to see him, and where she used to keep nothing guarded from him, everything about her now seemed to be held back, protected. Once bitten, twice shy and all that. She dutifully responded to him, answered his attempts at conversation with her own attempts to end it. There was so much he wanted to say, but every time she looked up and fixed her eyes on him, the words went spinning in his head like leaves in a storm. How to tell her? Where to start? What the fuck had he done eight months ago?
He didn’t know how he could possibly make things right, so he just stood there, talking. He didn’t know what kind of promises he could make, or whether they’d be worth anything to her. He didn’t know if she’d want any part in his new life, protecting the tenuous peace between the Nations because Aang looked to him for guidance.
His secret was, he would gladly have given up everything; his throne, his responsibilities to the Avatar, to his country, and in an altruistic way, for the world, all of it for the chance at the life he’d glimpsed in Ba Sing Se.
Life in Ba Sing Se with Jin had been… different. And fun. It had been spontaneous and lazy and mundane and beautiful. He’d felt unburdened. Suddenly he was free to do anything he wanted, pursue any interest and take advantage of any opportunity. With Jin beside him, a strong and encouraging presence in an otherwise foreign world, and Uncle’s kind mentorship guiding him in the right direction, he’d found life infinitely more livable. He was away from the scrutiny of the court, and the intrigue, posturing and paranoia that went with it, and it felt like the first gasp of air at the surface of water. He’d never realized he’d been holding his breath for sixteen years.
He would never have what every other kid had -- a long, self-obsessed childhood, a normal adolescence and the freedom to think only of himself, but by this time, with the war fought and peace paid for with own blood, was it wrong to give up something he’d never wanted in the first place?
Destiny is just a trap, anyway - he knows that now. He suspects Aang knows it too.
He doesn’t put his faith in destiny any more. He puts his faith in people now. So when Jin asked for it, he told her the truth. Then she had some of her own to tell him.
He stayed with her that night. It hadn’t seemed right to leave, when it felt like he was on the verge of something. He hadn’t told her everything, yet. But she’d asked him, “Will you kiss me?”, and he couldn’t have said no.
She needed the reassurance, he suspected, the constant tether to the real world after months in what must have seemed like some bizarre limbo. She moved almost desperately against him, forceful and needy when she initiated contact. He leaned over her, supported rigidly on his elbows and not daring to put much weight on her, when she wrapped her legs around him and slammed the distance between them out. He purposefully slowed down more than once, and halted before they did something reckless. She seemed grateful. This was their second chance, his second chance, and he was not about to waste it.
She fell asleep easily in his arms, and he savored the feeling of her relaxed and pliable to his embrace. He missed feeling like he could protect her, like his arms around her would keep her safe from anything.
He’d used the touches to discover for himself the damage he knew was there. He had seen her pulled from dark prison interior, hands still cuffed together, stumbling into the bright light of day. He listened to the doctor’s reports, read the official statement that documented the damage inflicted and sanctioned by Dai Li agents. But he had to see for himself. Around both wrists was an identical bruise that spoke of pulling futilely at shackles. Her face, covered in fading bruises, was still spectacular shades of color in others. He went hesitantly across her skin, daring only the most delicate brush of fingertips. He was careful not to let her catch him looking. There were burns in nonsensical patterns, and profoundly more disturbing; the equal, precise scars that formed symmetrical designs in patches across her skin. He knew that each one was the price for a question that went unanswered - that was the trade system in Earth Kingdom prisons.
Dai Li persuasion and Fire Nation cruelty was not a mix most people came out of alive. She had been a civilian in a prison for war criminals and terrorists - the worst kind of culture shock. When he thought about it, the image of a duckling being tossed into a pond filled with tiger sharks wouldn’t leave his mind. She shifted, and he realized how tight he’d been holding her.
He wondered if he dared to stay behind tomorrow. Aang would forgive him. The others would understand. Who knows, maybe the Fire Nation would suddenly find another young, charismatic, pacifist leader willing to lead the people through the revolution to peace, who actually wanted the job.
When she woke up the next morning, he’d already been awake for hours, rehearsing his resolutions and watching her sleep. She smiled at him, sleepily.
“I want to be honest with you,” he murmured. “I’m going with the Avatar. His quest hasn’t ended yet, there’s still so much to set right in the world, and he needs- Jin, what’s wrong?”
She had stiffened suddenly, going tense against him before she began struggling away from him, out from under the covers. She laughed when he asked what was wrong.
“You’re doing it again. I can’t believe you!”
Her left leg was still fractured, and when she went to put weight on it, he grabbed her arm to stop her.
“Let go of me!” she shouted, and he leaped back out of the bed, and away from her. Suddenly distance between them had become a good thing.
“You never did answer me.” she said, pulling her robe back on, angrily and, worst of all, self-consciously. “Why’d you come back? Especially if you were just going to tuck tail and run again. You think this is what I want? Another vanishing act?“
“It’s not like that!” he cried, and was shocked at how small and wavering his voice was. She stopped.
“I’m not choosing this over you. And I’m not doing it just because I think I have to. It’s… it’s the right thing to do.“ She was looking at him, waiting to hear more, and there was that same feeling of evisceration. He swallowed nervously, and continued.
“It’s what I want to do. It feels right. But so does this, Jin, and I don’t want to have to choose between two things that make me feel whole.”
There were a few seconds of deep silence between them. Jin’s eyes were wide, and she looked like she was still waiting to hear something, and that gave him the confidence to put himself entirely at her mercy.
“You make everything amazing, and all I want is to be near you. But I can’t abandon Aang completely. Not yet.”
There was a pause, and for a second, he thought he’d just made the most horrible mistake. She sighed, her head dropping to her chest and hiding her face for a moment. When she looked up again, she looked… oddly resigned.
“Well, I was the one who said you could be two things at once,” and it struck him as so very like her to say.
“A friend… and a diplomatic advisor to the Avatar?” he said hopefully.
“Jeez, Zuko, consider me a little more than a ‘friend’. Or are all Fire Nation girls this easy?”
It still didn’t sound… final.
“Jin, I promise, I’m not choosing this over you.”
“You say the sweetest things,” was all she said, face calm and mouth set in a little smiling quirk.
<3
Author: me, did you guess?
Rating: pg-13 , reference to torture, some sensuality
Length: 1700 words
This is directly connected to my last fic, so please, pop on over there and give it a read first. :)
He didn’t know what to expect the first time he saw her again. He imagined, in a best-case scenario, a heartfelt reunion, complete with tears and hugs and apologies lovingly accepted and exchanged for promises of the future. He hoped he hadn’t messed up this one thing so badly it could not be fixed. More realistically, all he wanted for was the chance to explain himself. After that, it would be up to her how things went. If she never wanted to see him again, he wouldn’t blame her. He just hoped she wouldn’t pull a knife on him (he knew for a fact she knew how to handle one, though not as well as another girl Zuko knew).
Walking down the hallway to her room was on par with any of the other terrifying ordeals he’d had to deal with in his life. He’d faced down the frontlines of armies, fought countless losing battles simply because he never backed down. Dragons had seen his sins and judged him. He’d finally stood before his father in opposition and, when the time came to fight, he fought bravely and won.
And now he was terrified. A lot could happen in eight months. A lot had happened. He was suddenly and terribly apprehensive, and the impulse to turn and flee was powerful. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea, maybe he should wait and think it through again.
Then suddenly he was standing in front of her open door, and then there she was, staring back at him with the same sort of incredulous, dubious look he must have had on, and the awkwardness of it all was so familiar to them, he could have cried with relief when she cleared her throat and said “Hi, Zuko.”
All the prepared speeches about duty and honor and destiny all fled his brain when he saw her. Jin looked neither happy nor sad to see him, and where she used to keep nothing guarded from him, everything about her now seemed to be held back, protected. Once bitten, twice shy and all that. She dutifully responded to him, answered his attempts at conversation with her own attempts to end it. There was so much he wanted to say, but every time she looked up and fixed her eyes on him, the words went spinning in his head like leaves in a storm. How to tell her? Where to start? What the fuck had he done eight months ago?
He didn’t know how he could possibly make things right, so he just stood there, talking. He didn’t know what kind of promises he could make, or whether they’d be worth anything to her. He didn’t know if she’d want any part in his new life, protecting the tenuous peace between the Nations because Aang looked to him for guidance.
His secret was, he would gladly have given up everything; his throne, his responsibilities to the Avatar, to his country, and in an altruistic way, for the world, all of it for the chance at the life he’d glimpsed in Ba Sing Se.
Life in Ba Sing Se with Jin had been… different. And fun. It had been spontaneous and lazy and mundane and beautiful. He’d felt unburdened. Suddenly he was free to do anything he wanted, pursue any interest and take advantage of any opportunity. With Jin beside him, a strong and encouraging presence in an otherwise foreign world, and Uncle’s kind mentorship guiding him in the right direction, he’d found life infinitely more livable. He was away from the scrutiny of the court, and the intrigue, posturing and paranoia that went with it, and it felt like the first gasp of air at the surface of water. He’d never realized he’d been holding his breath for sixteen years.
He would never have what every other kid had -- a long, self-obsessed childhood, a normal adolescence and the freedom to think only of himself, but by this time, with the war fought and peace paid for with own blood, was it wrong to give up something he’d never wanted in the first place?
Destiny is just a trap, anyway - he knows that now. He suspects Aang knows it too.
He doesn’t put his faith in destiny any more. He puts his faith in people now. So when Jin asked for it, he told her the truth. Then she had some of her own to tell him.
He stayed with her that night. It hadn’t seemed right to leave, when it felt like he was on the verge of something. He hadn’t told her everything, yet. But she’d asked him, “Will you kiss me?”, and he couldn’t have said no.
She needed the reassurance, he suspected, the constant tether to the real world after months in what must have seemed like some bizarre limbo. She moved almost desperately against him, forceful and needy when she initiated contact. He leaned over her, supported rigidly on his elbows and not daring to put much weight on her, when she wrapped her legs around him and slammed the distance between them out. He purposefully slowed down more than once, and halted before they did something reckless. She seemed grateful. This was their second chance, his second chance, and he was not about to waste it.
She fell asleep easily in his arms, and he savored the feeling of her relaxed and pliable to his embrace. He missed feeling like he could protect her, like his arms around her would keep her safe from anything.
He’d used the touches to discover for himself the damage he knew was there. He had seen her pulled from dark prison interior, hands still cuffed together, stumbling into the bright light of day. He listened to the doctor’s reports, read the official statement that documented the damage inflicted and sanctioned by Dai Li agents. But he had to see for himself. Around both wrists was an identical bruise that spoke of pulling futilely at shackles. Her face, covered in fading bruises, was still spectacular shades of color in others. He went hesitantly across her skin, daring only the most delicate brush of fingertips. He was careful not to let her catch him looking. There were burns in nonsensical patterns, and profoundly more disturbing; the equal, precise scars that formed symmetrical designs in patches across her skin. He knew that each one was the price for a question that went unanswered - that was the trade system in Earth Kingdom prisons.
Dai Li persuasion and Fire Nation cruelty was not a mix most people came out of alive. She had been a civilian in a prison for war criminals and terrorists - the worst kind of culture shock. When he thought about it, the image of a duckling being tossed into a pond filled with tiger sharks wouldn’t leave his mind. She shifted, and he realized how tight he’d been holding her.
He wondered if he dared to stay behind tomorrow. Aang would forgive him. The others would understand. Who knows, maybe the Fire Nation would suddenly find another young, charismatic, pacifist leader willing to lead the people through the revolution to peace, who actually wanted the job.
When she woke up the next morning, he’d already been awake for hours, rehearsing his resolutions and watching her sleep. She smiled at him, sleepily.
“I want to be honest with you,” he murmured. “I’m going with the Avatar. His quest hasn’t ended yet, there’s still so much to set right in the world, and he needs- Jin, what’s wrong?”
She had stiffened suddenly, going tense against him before she began struggling away from him, out from under the covers. She laughed when he asked what was wrong.
“You’re doing it again. I can’t believe you!”
Her left leg was still fractured, and when she went to put weight on it, he grabbed her arm to stop her.
“Let go of me!” she shouted, and he leaped back out of the bed, and away from her. Suddenly distance between them had become a good thing.
“You never did answer me.” she said, pulling her robe back on, angrily and, worst of all, self-consciously. “Why’d you come back? Especially if you were just going to tuck tail and run again. You think this is what I want? Another vanishing act?“
“It’s not like that!” he cried, and was shocked at how small and wavering his voice was. She stopped.
“I’m not choosing this over you. And I’m not doing it just because I think I have to. It’s… it’s the right thing to do.“ She was looking at him, waiting to hear more, and there was that same feeling of evisceration. He swallowed nervously, and continued.
“It’s what I want to do. It feels right. But so does this, Jin, and I don’t want to have to choose between two things that make me feel whole.”
There were a few seconds of deep silence between them. Jin’s eyes were wide, and she looked like she was still waiting to hear something, and that gave him the confidence to put himself entirely at her mercy.
“You make everything amazing, and all I want is to be near you. But I can’t abandon Aang completely. Not yet.”
There was a pause, and for a second, he thought he’d just made the most horrible mistake. She sighed, her head dropping to her chest and hiding her face for a moment. When she looked up again, she looked… oddly resigned.
“Well, I was the one who said you could be two things at once,” and it struck him as so very like her to say.
“A friend… and a diplomatic advisor to the Avatar?” he said hopefully.
“Jeez, Zuko, consider me a little more than a ‘friend’. Or are all Fire Nation girls this easy?”
It still didn’t sound… final.
“Jin, I promise, I’m not choosing this over you.”
“You say the sweetest things,” was all she said, face calm and mouth set in a little smiling quirk.
<3