"Innate" is (finally) updated
Story Title: Inconceivable
Fandom: A:TLA
Characters: Everyone!
Summary: Continuing the AU that explores the idea of Zuko being born an airbender, and how it would reshape the events of Zuko's life - and Aang's - as a result.
In this chapter: Iroh finally comes out with where he and Ursa went following the Day of Black Sun, and the news isn't very happy...
Mai watched, silent. Her eyes were narrowed and fixed on the figures of Iroh and Zuko. Her body made the moves of eating and drinking with the rest of them, but she barely tasted anything she put in her mouth.
She had to admit it to herself: She was a little jealous. For months, now, Mai had had Zuko all to herself. She had relished in the fact that she had been the sole focus of his love, gloried in the fact that they were in this together, alone, like two people against the world.
With Ren - Iroh - back, she felt a little miffed about it.
For a moment, anyway. She couldn't help but noticed how happy Zuko looked now, how bright his eyes were, how wide his smile was. As he smiled and listened to Iroh speak, he barely ate a shred of food, intent on keeping all of his focus on his uncle. It touched her to see this side of him, reminded her of the young man he had been before this whole mess started.
The fact that Iroh made Zuko happy was the only thing that allowed Mai to trust him, if barely. She would never forget his years hiding as Ren. She would never forgive that secrecy. She would never let that kind of subterfuge happen ever again.
It was awkward at first, really. Aang and the others were - understandably - wary of this stranger, and a Fire Nation adult and brother to the son of their enemy, no doubt. But once Aang saw how Zuko was with him, once he realised that Iroh not only accepted Zuko's airbending, but also encouraged it, he relaxed.
Until Zuko asked the one question that had haunted everyone else. "How are you here? And why?"
Iroh sighed deeply, lowering his bowl of food and placing his chopsticks on them lightly, almost gently. Softly, he said, "Zuko, your grandfather is dead."
Aang watched the blood drain from the older airbender's face, his eyes going wide with dismay. "What?" Zuko spluttered out, almost dropping his own bowl. "How? Was it...age?"
Iroh looked down. "No." But he said nothing further.
Mai spoke up, her eyes hard. "Murder?"
Iroh looked at her. Then, slightly, he nodded. "Yes."
Mai's gaze narrowed. "Ozai?"
"Ursa."
Zuko did drop the bowl. It shattered on the floor before him, splattering him with the soupy congee that it once held. He exploded. "No! You're wrong! My mother would never do such a thing, never! Never for anything, and least of all for my father!"
His voice broke, and Mai leaned in close to him, placing a light hand on his back. He winced, but didn't pull away.
Aang was conflicted, and knew his friends were, too. The news of Firelord Azulon being dead wasn't a heartbreaker - indeed, Aang had spent the eclipse trying to do just that, himself - but it was still a shock all the same. For almost a year, Azulon and his troops had dogged Aang and his friends ever since the world learned of his existence, sometimes sending his own granddaughter into the fray (Aang suppressed a shudder at that. The Firelord's namesake was ruthless in her hunting, never giving him a moment's peace until she shot him to death).
But now that Azulon was dead, didn't that mean that Iroh was the new Firelord? And what about the second son, Ozai?
Aang spoke up, his throat dry. "I think you have to start from the beginning."
Iroh was very upfront about what happened in the Fire Nation. He didn't mince words, and Zuko both appreciated and hated him for it.
Ursa and Iroh left for the capitol shortly following the eclipse - that much Zuko knew. But it wasn't until a week later that they managed to get there. The entire city was a mess, shred into ribbons by Aang and his combined forces. It was like walking into a sprung trap.
Aang and the others showed no remorse and embarrassment for this - something that Zuko found a little striking, for a group so young. They had clearly been forced to grow fast for the war.
"When we reached the Palace," Iroh went on, his hands wrapped around chilling tea, his eyes focused on something unseen. "The entire place was deserted. Both your mother and I knew of the bunkers, and we went. There had been a fight, but no one had been killed, something I'm sure you know well, Avatar Aang."
His eyes looked up to Aang's, but again the boy didn't flinch. "Yeah," he agreed. "Azula was too quick for us, and she kept us from the Firelord and his son."
A shudder went through Zuko at hearing his sister's name. He hadn't seen her years, and indeed he had remembered her own cry of surprise and dismay when he had been burned, but the stories that his new friends had told him - stories involving her and her friend Ty Lee chasing them tirelessly around the world, causing scandal and chaos - was enough to tell him that his sister had changed, and quite possibly would never be able to turn back.
Iron nodded slowly. "Yes..." he said slowly, but whether it was out of agreement, Zuko wasn't sure.
The reunion between father and son and husband and wife was strained, and somewhat cold. Iroh hadn't expected a warm reception, since he - the Crown Prince - had been missing for years and had never so much as written a letter to report his whereabouts, only now to return with the estranged wife of his brother..."Well, it was awkward," he admitted. "It looked rather suspect, really."
Zuko made a face, but Mai blinked slowly, clearly thinking about something that she didn't - or wouldn't - want to share. He wondered about that, and hoped he would remember to ask her later.
From that moment, though, it was clear that there was unrest in the family. Azulon was even more paranoid after the attack on his home, and this was not cured one iota with the return of his first-born son. Ozai became even more secluded and brooding as well, ignoring both daughter and newly-returned wife in favour of some undisclosed reason.
It did come out eventually, however.
"Ozai was planning," Iroh continued, his eyes roaming over the young faces before him. Aang was attentive, his eyes wide, his expression guarded and wary; Katara was still somewhat troubled by Iroh, but kept it in check in favour of learning his story; Sokka made a ruse of sharpening his knife to make himself appear disinterested, but Zuko saw his attention in how bright his eyes were; Haru sat by Katara and Teo, looking grim-faced; Teo was looking away, his eyes dark as he listened; The Duke was fast asleep, his head resting inches away from Toph's thigh; Toph's hand was, oddly, placed on top of the Duke's head, not stroking his hair, but not idle, either, her own face a mix of suspicion and worry.
Only Mai kept her face impassive and expressionless. If Zuko had known her less, he would have never seen the anger and fear in her eyes. She feared Iroh, and Zuko couldn't get why.
"But no one ever realised what that plan was," Iroh admitted. "No one, except your mother, Zuko."
Zuko's mouth went dry. "He wanted to kill Grandfather," he murmured.
Iroh nodded. "Yes. Only, to keep himself safe with an alibi, he asked your mother to do it on his behalf. She did. I will never know what he held over her do get her to do it, but she did it."
He paused, finally looking at Zuko, who felt dead inside. His own mother, a killer. For the man who would have killed his own son. Very gently, Iroh reached over and took one of Zuko's limp hands into his, and the younger man looked up. "It gets worse, Zuko," Iroh admitted. "Are you prepared?"
Worse? What could be worse than this? But he nodded, all the same. On his other side, Mai pressed in close, her cool hands taking his other hand and holding tight.
"Ozai changed the will before Ursa killed Azulon," Iroh said slowly, his voice plain. Zuko mildly wondered at that, wondered at how he could speak of the murder of his own father so casually and calmly. "It named Ozai the next Firelord. Your father is now the enemy of your new friends, Zuko."
The friends in question, naturally, reacted. "You're kidding," Sokka spluttered. "That crazy jerk who burned the face off his own son is now the ruler of the Nation that we need to take down?"
"Sokka," Katara snapped, glaring at her brother, before adding, somewhat shamefaced, "Although...I do kind of agree."
Aang's shoulders drooped, his face drawn. He looked down at his hands. Wordlessly, Katara reached out and touched his shoulder, squeezing, and he reached up and placed a hand over hers lightly.
Toph, however, looked unfazed. Her hand still lay idly on the Duke's slumbering head, although her other hand - and its finger - were raised in pursuit of her nose. "You're all freaking out over nothing. This doesn't really change anything, does it? Our goal is still to take out the Firelord. He just has a different name, now."
"You don't understand," Zuko said, his own voice sounding impossibly loud in his ears. "My father is powerful - more powerful than my grandfather is...was. It's going to take a lot more than any of us have to beat him."
"Zuko..." Mai said softly, giving his hand a squeeze. "You don't know that."
"Don't I?" he snapped, jerking both his hands away, his whole body flashing hot with his anger. "Don't I know what my own father is like? If anything, I know better than any of you. I mean..." his voice broke, but he couldn't stop, now. All he could see was red. "I admit to him the biggest secret of my life...I open up and be honest with him...and he tries to kill me for it, and you're saying I don't know just how powerful he is?"
His words were met with silence. No one knew what to say to this. They knew he was right.
"There is more," Iroh admitted softly, looking miserable at the admission.
Zuko looked up slowly, dreading it.
"Your father has placed a hefty bounty on your head, Zuko. The entire world knows you're an airbender now. If anyone finds you or catches you, they're ordered to kill you on the spot. Your father has declared your life forfeit."
It was interesting. Zuko never could have imagined feeling worse than he did only seconds before. But now? Now, he felt...
...there's nothing left...not even my mother...
He shut his eyes, his teeth clenched. Lowering his head, he got to his feet and turned on his heel, then walked away, as fast as he could, without running.Mai made a move to follow him, but Iroh stopped her. She glared at him. "Why would you tell him that?"she snapped. She was furious with all of it - the look of hope being dashed from Zuko's eyes, the hurt and the pain in his face - all courtesy of the man who sat beside her. "Why would you do that?"
Iroh let go of her hand, looking regretful. "He has the right to know the truth."
"There are better ways to say it."
"Look," Aang broke in, startling the two. He looked tired, his eyes dark. "This is all really heavy stuff for us to digest right now. I think we just...need to take a breather. Isn't that a good idea?"
This time it was Aang's words that were met with silence.
In the darkening night, Zuko threw himself into his forms. He worked himself into a frenzy, sweat dripping from his brow, his whole body awash in it, his heart racing and his chest aching. Over and over again, he continued without rest, his breaths turning to gasps, his muscles hurting - then screaming - with pain, as he worked.
Each time he threw out his hands and willed it, though, no flames would lick his hands. No sparks would ignite at his feet.
He pleaded, over and over again, for it to work. Each time he started another firebending form, his body rebelled, not liking being subjected to moves neglected for years and that were unnatural ill-suited for him. But he ignored it - indeed, ignored any kind of logic - and kept pushing himself, willing the fires to dance, the embers to ignite, for something, anything to spring free and mark him as the firebender he was supposed to be.
As the sun dipped low and the space he danced through slowly dimmed to black, he knew that he had to admit defeat. He slipped to his knees in mid-form and landed hard, propping himself up on his hands, his head lowered and his whole body shaking.
His breaths came out in harsh sobs, but he couldn't stop them. All he could think of how shattered his life was now. For he knew it was only a matter of time before his father found out that he was hiding at the Temple, for if Ursa didn't tell him, then surely one of the women who had followed her would.
His fingers dug into the dirty floor, shards of rock digging under his nails so hard it hurt. Would Ursa betray him? Why had she killed Azulon?
Hot tears stained the ground under him, and he shut his eyes to them, his teeth catching his bottom lip and biting down hard. He couldn't afford to be weak, couldn't afford the luxury of feeling sorry for himself.
But the tears wouldn't stop all the same.
Soft footsteps broke him out of his dark reverie. Hurriedly, he scrambled to his feet, rubbing his eyes and nose hastily with his arm and trying to look calm and collected. In the dying light, he saw that it was Mai, and she looked as calm as he wished he felt. She walked to him, standing in front of him and staring right into his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, maybe to reassure her that he was fine, or maybe to tell her that none of it mattered, but her hand shot out and she pressed two fingers to his lips, silencing him.
Then her eyes grew sad, her face an expression of pain. She reached up and cupped his face between her hands, and something deep and dark within Zuko's breast melted into nothing. He sagged, his eyes shutting and his face crumpling, reaching for her and grabbing onto her hard. He buried his face into the soft curve of her neck, the sobs within his chest coming loose. His fingers dug into her back hard, but she didn't flinch or wince. She held him close, her cheek pressed against his hair, one hand stroking the back of his neck slowly.
"You're not alone, Zuko," she whispered into his ear, and he heard her voice break, heard the tears in her voice. "You're not alone."
It was all she needed to say to soothe the pain into something he could bear.
Fandom: A:TLA
Characters: Everyone!
Summary: Continuing the AU that explores the idea of Zuko being born an airbender, and how it would reshape the events of Zuko's life - and Aang's - as a result.
In this chapter: Iroh finally comes out with where he and Ursa went following the Day of Black Sun, and the news isn't very happy...
Mai watched, silent. Her eyes were narrowed and fixed on the figures of Iroh and Zuko. Her body made the moves of eating and drinking with the rest of them, but she barely tasted anything she put in her mouth.
She had to admit it to herself: She was a little jealous. For months, now, Mai had had Zuko all to herself. She had relished in the fact that she had been the sole focus of his love, gloried in the fact that they were in this together, alone, like two people against the world.
With Ren - Iroh - back, she felt a little miffed about it.
For a moment, anyway. She couldn't help but noticed how happy Zuko looked now, how bright his eyes were, how wide his smile was. As he smiled and listened to Iroh speak, he barely ate a shred of food, intent on keeping all of his focus on his uncle. It touched her to see this side of him, reminded her of the young man he had been before this whole mess started.
The fact that Iroh made Zuko happy was the only thing that allowed Mai to trust him, if barely. She would never forget his years hiding as Ren. She would never forgive that secrecy. She would never let that kind of subterfuge happen ever again.
It was awkward at first, really. Aang and the others were - understandably - wary of this stranger, and a Fire Nation adult and brother to the son of their enemy, no doubt. But once Aang saw how Zuko was with him, once he realised that Iroh not only accepted Zuko's airbending, but also encouraged it, he relaxed.
Until Zuko asked the one question that had haunted everyone else. "How are you here? And why?"
Iroh sighed deeply, lowering his bowl of food and placing his chopsticks on them lightly, almost gently. Softly, he said, "Zuko, your grandfather is dead."
Aang watched the blood drain from the older airbender's face, his eyes going wide with dismay. "What?" Zuko spluttered out, almost dropping his own bowl. "How? Was it...age?"
Iroh looked down. "No." But he said nothing further.
Mai spoke up, her eyes hard. "Murder?"
Iroh looked at her. Then, slightly, he nodded. "Yes."
Mai's gaze narrowed. "Ozai?"
"Ursa."
Zuko did drop the bowl. It shattered on the floor before him, splattering him with the soupy congee that it once held. He exploded. "No! You're wrong! My mother would never do such a thing, never! Never for anything, and least of all for my father!"
His voice broke, and Mai leaned in close to him, placing a light hand on his back. He winced, but didn't pull away.
Aang was conflicted, and knew his friends were, too. The news of Firelord Azulon being dead wasn't a heartbreaker - indeed, Aang had spent the eclipse trying to do just that, himself - but it was still a shock all the same. For almost a year, Azulon and his troops had dogged Aang and his friends ever since the world learned of his existence, sometimes sending his own granddaughter into the fray (Aang suppressed a shudder at that. The Firelord's namesake was ruthless in her hunting, never giving him a moment's peace until she shot him to death).
But now that Azulon was dead, didn't that mean that Iroh was the new Firelord? And what about the second son, Ozai?
Aang spoke up, his throat dry. "I think you have to start from the beginning."
Iroh was very upfront about what happened in the Fire Nation. He didn't mince words, and Zuko both appreciated and hated him for it.
Ursa and Iroh left for the capitol shortly following the eclipse - that much Zuko knew. But it wasn't until a week later that they managed to get there. The entire city was a mess, shred into ribbons by Aang and his combined forces. It was like walking into a sprung trap.
Aang and the others showed no remorse and embarrassment for this - something that Zuko found a little striking, for a group so young. They had clearly been forced to grow fast for the war.
"When we reached the Palace," Iroh went on, his hands wrapped around chilling tea, his eyes focused on something unseen. "The entire place was deserted. Both your mother and I knew of the bunkers, and we went. There had been a fight, but no one had been killed, something I'm sure you know well, Avatar Aang."
His eyes looked up to Aang's, but again the boy didn't flinch. "Yeah," he agreed. "Azula was too quick for us, and she kept us from the Firelord and his son."
A shudder went through Zuko at hearing his sister's name. He hadn't seen her years, and indeed he had remembered her own cry of surprise and dismay when he had been burned, but the stories that his new friends had told him - stories involving her and her friend Ty Lee chasing them tirelessly around the world, causing scandal and chaos - was enough to tell him that his sister had changed, and quite possibly would never be able to turn back.
Iron nodded slowly. "Yes..." he said slowly, but whether it was out of agreement, Zuko wasn't sure.
The reunion between father and son and husband and wife was strained, and somewhat cold. Iroh hadn't expected a warm reception, since he - the Crown Prince - had been missing for years and had never so much as written a letter to report his whereabouts, only now to return with the estranged wife of his brother..."Well, it was awkward," he admitted. "It looked rather suspect, really."
Zuko made a face, but Mai blinked slowly, clearly thinking about something that she didn't - or wouldn't - want to share. He wondered about that, and hoped he would remember to ask her later.
From that moment, though, it was clear that there was unrest in the family. Azulon was even more paranoid after the attack on his home, and this was not cured one iota with the return of his first-born son. Ozai became even more secluded and brooding as well, ignoring both daughter and newly-returned wife in favour of some undisclosed reason.
It did come out eventually, however.
"Ozai was planning," Iroh continued, his eyes roaming over the young faces before him. Aang was attentive, his eyes wide, his expression guarded and wary; Katara was still somewhat troubled by Iroh, but kept it in check in favour of learning his story; Sokka made a ruse of sharpening his knife to make himself appear disinterested, but Zuko saw his attention in how bright his eyes were; Haru sat by Katara and Teo, looking grim-faced; Teo was looking away, his eyes dark as he listened; The Duke was fast asleep, his head resting inches away from Toph's thigh; Toph's hand was, oddly, placed on top of the Duke's head, not stroking his hair, but not idle, either, her own face a mix of suspicion and worry.
Only Mai kept her face impassive and expressionless. If Zuko had known her less, he would have never seen the anger and fear in her eyes. She feared Iroh, and Zuko couldn't get why.
"But no one ever realised what that plan was," Iroh admitted. "No one, except your mother, Zuko."
Zuko's mouth went dry. "He wanted to kill Grandfather," he murmured.
Iroh nodded. "Yes. Only, to keep himself safe with an alibi, he asked your mother to do it on his behalf. She did. I will never know what he held over her do get her to do it, but she did it."
He paused, finally looking at Zuko, who felt dead inside. His own mother, a killer. For the man who would have killed his own son. Very gently, Iroh reached over and took one of Zuko's limp hands into his, and the younger man looked up. "It gets worse, Zuko," Iroh admitted. "Are you prepared?"
Worse? What could be worse than this? But he nodded, all the same. On his other side, Mai pressed in close, her cool hands taking his other hand and holding tight.
"Ozai changed the will before Ursa killed Azulon," Iroh said slowly, his voice plain. Zuko mildly wondered at that, wondered at how he could speak of the murder of his own father so casually and calmly. "It named Ozai the next Firelord. Your father is now the enemy of your new friends, Zuko."
The friends in question, naturally, reacted. "You're kidding," Sokka spluttered. "That crazy jerk who burned the face off his own son is now the ruler of the Nation that we need to take down?"
"Sokka," Katara snapped, glaring at her brother, before adding, somewhat shamefaced, "Although...I do kind of agree."
Aang's shoulders drooped, his face drawn. He looked down at his hands. Wordlessly, Katara reached out and touched his shoulder, squeezing, and he reached up and placed a hand over hers lightly.
Toph, however, looked unfazed. Her hand still lay idly on the Duke's slumbering head, although her other hand - and its finger - were raised in pursuit of her nose. "You're all freaking out over nothing. This doesn't really change anything, does it? Our goal is still to take out the Firelord. He just has a different name, now."
"You don't understand," Zuko said, his own voice sounding impossibly loud in his ears. "My father is powerful - more powerful than my grandfather is...was. It's going to take a lot more than any of us have to beat him."
"Zuko..." Mai said softly, giving his hand a squeeze. "You don't know that."
"Don't I?" he snapped, jerking both his hands away, his whole body flashing hot with his anger. "Don't I know what my own father is like? If anything, I know better than any of you. I mean..." his voice broke, but he couldn't stop, now. All he could see was red. "I admit to him the biggest secret of my life...I open up and be honest with him...and he tries to kill me for it, and you're saying I don't know just how powerful he is?"
His words were met with silence. No one knew what to say to this. They knew he was right.
"There is more," Iroh admitted softly, looking miserable at the admission.
Zuko looked up slowly, dreading it.
"Your father has placed a hefty bounty on your head, Zuko. The entire world knows you're an airbender now. If anyone finds you or catches you, they're ordered to kill you on the spot. Your father has declared your life forfeit."
It was interesting. Zuko never could have imagined feeling worse than he did only seconds before. But now? Now, he felt...
...there's nothing left...not even my mother...
He shut his eyes, his teeth clenched. Lowering his head, he got to his feet and turned on his heel, then walked away, as fast as he could, without running.Mai made a move to follow him, but Iroh stopped her. She glared at him. "Why would you tell him that?"she snapped. She was furious with all of it - the look of hope being dashed from Zuko's eyes, the hurt and the pain in his face - all courtesy of the man who sat beside her. "Why would you do that?"
Iroh let go of her hand, looking regretful. "He has the right to know the truth."
"There are better ways to say it."
"Look," Aang broke in, startling the two. He looked tired, his eyes dark. "This is all really heavy stuff for us to digest right now. I think we just...need to take a breather. Isn't that a good idea?"
This time it was Aang's words that were met with silence.
In the darkening night, Zuko threw himself into his forms. He worked himself into a frenzy, sweat dripping from his brow, his whole body awash in it, his heart racing and his chest aching. Over and over again, he continued without rest, his breaths turning to gasps, his muscles hurting - then screaming - with pain, as he worked.
Each time he threw out his hands and willed it, though, no flames would lick his hands. No sparks would ignite at his feet.
He pleaded, over and over again, for it to work. Each time he started another firebending form, his body rebelled, not liking being subjected to moves neglected for years and that were unnatural ill-suited for him. But he ignored it - indeed, ignored any kind of logic - and kept pushing himself, willing the fires to dance, the embers to ignite, for something, anything to spring free and mark him as the firebender he was supposed to be.
As the sun dipped low and the space he danced through slowly dimmed to black, he knew that he had to admit defeat. He slipped to his knees in mid-form and landed hard, propping himself up on his hands, his head lowered and his whole body shaking.
His breaths came out in harsh sobs, but he couldn't stop them. All he could think of how shattered his life was now. For he knew it was only a matter of time before his father found out that he was hiding at the Temple, for if Ursa didn't tell him, then surely one of the women who had followed her would.
His fingers dug into the dirty floor, shards of rock digging under his nails so hard it hurt. Would Ursa betray him? Why had she killed Azulon?
Hot tears stained the ground under him, and he shut his eyes to them, his teeth catching his bottom lip and biting down hard. He couldn't afford to be weak, couldn't afford the luxury of feeling sorry for himself.
But the tears wouldn't stop all the same.
Soft footsteps broke him out of his dark reverie. Hurriedly, he scrambled to his feet, rubbing his eyes and nose hastily with his arm and trying to look calm and collected. In the dying light, he saw that it was Mai, and she looked as calm as he wished he felt. She walked to him, standing in front of him and staring right into his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, maybe to reassure her that he was fine, or maybe to tell her that none of it mattered, but her hand shot out and she pressed two fingers to his lips, silencing him.
Then her eyes grew sad, her face an expression of pain. She reached up and cupped his face between her hands, and something deep and dark within Zuko's breast melted into nothing. He sagged, his eyes shutting and his face crumpling, reaching for her and grabbing onto her hard. He buried his face into the soft curve of her neck, the sobs within his chest coming loose. His fingers dug into her back hard, but she didn't flinch or wince. She held him close, her cheek pressed against his hair, one hand stroking the back of his neck slowly.
"You're not alone, Zuko," she whispered into his ear, and he heard her voice break, heard the tears in her voice. "You're not alone."
It was all she needed to say to soothe the pain into something he could bear.