Passages, Chapter 20
Yeah, I know, you were all wondering which story I'd update first, Passages or Cog. I admit, I've hit a bit of a roadblock on Cog. By the way, Smill, Crossing is not off my radar screen by any means - I'm just not sure where I want to take it next. So anyway, the usual comments pertain here - I really want to know what you all think of this chapter, remembering that we are just four or five chapters from the end of this fic...
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Chapter 20
“Highness, do you intend to challenge me, or may I offer you and the…excuse me, your companion, some refreshment?” Jeong-Jeong allowed an unusual wry note to color his tone. Truly, the current situation had shocked him beyond his normal black outlook on the world.
“He was gonna say ‘fool’, I just know it…” Sokka grumbled, although his stomach leapt at the thought of food. The last evening’s bowls of stew at the tavern seemed eons ago, and the sun was currently riding high in the sky.
“So, how is it he knows you so well?” Zuko answered in an aside, even as he inclined his head to the old soldier, years of training taking hold as he drew himself into an almost unconscious regal stance, bestowing gracious acquiescence upon a vassal. Sokka took note and groaned, not sure he was entirely happy to see a remnant of the imperious prince assert itself, even as the implied insult was somehow reassuring.
The surrounding soldiers appeared to hesitate for a few brief moments. A few looked hard at Zuko, and the prince felt the weight of their measuring gazes even as he appeared to ignore them. It was with obvious reluctance that they all withdrew, but whether it was because they didn’t trust the young prince or because they wanted to see more of him none could be the judge. In any event, as Jeong-Jeong turned his back to lead them towards a small hut both boys noticed they were suddenly alone with the older man. Neither felt particularly more comfortable.
“So, I don’t suppose Chey is still with you…?” Sokka ventured as he followed Zuko through the low hanging covering the doorway. “I mean, I learned some good stuff from him, and I thought maybe he’d like to hear how I used it… Oh, never mind.”
Sokka was fairly sure the old man was barely aware of his presence, but somehow he didn’t feel quite free to excuse himself. And of course, he’d been offered food as well, hadn’t he?
Not, at that point, did there appear to be much in the way of “refreshments” inside the dim hut. Jeong-Jeong folded himself up on a mat in the corner, low stands of candles at irregular intervals around him that flared as he positioned himself, and then settled as he did. At one side a kettle could be seen steaming over a brazier, a teapot nestled nearby warming in the spillover heat.
Zuko knelt gracefully before the older man, his golden eyes unflinching upon him. Sokka hesitated briefly, then opted to seat himself a bit to the side and behind Zuko. He consciously slouched into a comfortable pose he knew he could abandon immediately for a warrior’s stance on his feet. Damn it, he was Water Tribe. He wouldn’t give deliberate offence, but nor would he kow-tow to the Fire Nation.
An extraordinarily long silence fell over the hut.
It was first broken by an audible growl from Sokka’s stomach. He merely smiled blandly as the other two glanced at him. Almost immediately afterwards two men with trays of food appeared, and Sokka allowed himself to be distracted by an assessment of their offerings.
Zuko found himself absorbed in his contemplation of the legend before him. His Uncle Iroh was a national hero, but Zuko had known him all his life, and familiarity with his uncle’s easy-going nature and mild manner made it easy to forget he was the fabled general who had carved a swath through the Earth Kingdom and even breached the outer wall of Ba Sing Se. But Jeong-Jeong was one of the figures of military history who had loomed large in Zuko’s studies, not least because his exploits encompassed not only decades passed but even into more current history. As General Iroh was the Dragon of the West, Admiral Jeong-Jeong had made a name for himself as the Serpent of the Southern Deep.
It occurred to Zuko that Sokka probably was unaware of Jeong-Jeong’s history as the Admiral who had brought the Southern Water Tribe to its knees. He decided, given the boy’s apparent lack of overt animosity there, that he wouldn’t be the one to educate him.
As Zuko observed the old soldier he noted the deep scars marring his visage, and harkened back to the pain he had felt both during his Agni Kai with his father and during his battle with Sokka’s water-bending sister. The blades of water and ice could be as devastating as those of flame. As he was marked by his own father’s violence he wondered at the more precise markings left by some anonymous water-bender upon the fire admiral. When, he wondered, did he first start to question the reason for bearing the pain?
---------------------------------------------
“Perhaps,” Iroh ventured, “I might see the map? Remember, Young Ones, that I’ve traveled much of this world before you. Even if I can offer nothing in aid, it would be of interest to me to note any changes since the last time I passed this way…”
“Of course, Iroh, how silly of us not to think of that ourselves,” Aang replied, tossing the map into Iroh’s hands with an idle flourish of air-bending.
Although used to Aang’s air-bending herself, Katara kept her eyes on the map in case the apparently lazy adult missed the gesture. Iroh’s easy grasp of the scroll was reassuring, and served to remind Katara that Iroh’s indulgent demeanor was, in fact, somewhat deceptive.
“An yes, An Dui, I think I remember… A nice little harbor, close-mouthed populous, rather opportunistic as I recall. Totally typical, actually. But perhaps so many years of war taints the idealism of anyone, don’t you think?”
Katara had begun to suspect that the old man dropped such comments quite deliberately. It was, she thought, not just a warning to be prepared but also a broader cautionary tale for Aang and the rest of them.
“The Saki Port well to the north is a likely starting point for him; it’s actually closer to the prison, but Aang says he feels Sokka is somewhere near An Dui,” Katara actually said. “Anyway, he’s had more than enough time to make it that far south if he were lucky.”
“Yeah. And ‘luck’ is Snoozles’ middle name,” Toph said gloomily. There came a point wherein no amount of thinking about love could overcome the helplessness she felt clinging to Appa’s fur or even ensconced in his saddle. The reality was, it was only with a firm grip on Aang or Sokka that Toph was really comfortable flying, and even then it was only by benefit of the focused concentration from her bending exercises.
“Don’t, please, remind me! Besides, Aang said he felt him alive and well near An Dui!”
“I did, Katara, seriously,” Aang said cheerfully. “Remember, you felt it too! Sokka’s alright! And no matter what he’s said in the past, I do know how to read a map!”
“Right.”
It was Iroh’s turn to look dubious. It had never occurred to him that the air-bender might have relied on someone else for direction, least of all a non-bending peasant boy. Still, there was no doubt that the others in this group felt some sense of reliance on the Water Tribe boy. And truthfully, it had become clear to him that the Avatar’s exploits had passed well beyond the realm of luck some time ago. Much as he appreciated the talents of these young ones gathered together he couldn’t help but sense that something was missing. They all seemed to agree, and believe the missing element was their friend.
Iroh knew better than to disagree out of hand.
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When the food had arrived Jeong-Jeong had poured the hot water into the tea-pot, and Sokka had had the sense to recognize some more formal eating ritual than any he had ever been involved in before was taking place before him. Jeong-Jeong and Zuko spoke to one another in a language he recognized, but whose meaning seemed to escape him.
Keeping his head, he watched Zuko and imitated the other boy, keeping his own silence. Well, except that for every delicate bite Zuko took Sokka managed a surreptitious second bite. And for every gracious word Zuko spoke Sokka merely gave a nod. He knew he couldn’t manage gracious, and he’d be foolhardy to even try.
Sokka remembered those columns he had created in his mind about Zuko’s various traits, aligned at that time under “good”, “bad”, and “could go either way” (as in maybe useful someday). He remembered how heavily weighted the “maybe” column had been, and thought suddenly how he had assessed Zuko much as one might assess a tool to be used, not a person. He was, briefly, ashamed, even as he moved Zuko’s court education over into the “good” grouping. Odd how that balance had unconsciously been shifting over time.
“Your Highness,” Jeong-Jeong spoke clearly, “My Lord. You are, of course, aware that there are even more bounties on your head than there are on mine.”
Well, nothing like clearing the air, thought Sokka. He remembered that the old man never seemed to be one to waste his words or pull punches.
“As you said yourself, Admiral,” Zuko answered evenly. “You owe me no fealty. Why bother with honorifics in addressing me?”
“My family is old in your family’s service,” Jeong-Jeong responded. “More importantly, you’ve given me no reason to suggest you don’t deserve the honor.”
Sokka suspected that Jeong-Jeong had chosen his words quite carefully. He held his breath for Zuko’s answer. He heard a careful intake of breath in the other boy.
“No? I seek my destiny, Admiral, and yet you suggest to me it is something I cannot comprehend…”
Oh hell, not that again. At least Aang is the Avatar, and his destiny is to work towards the world’s balance. What the hell can Zuko’s destiny be anyway, except to be a brute and a sociopathic conqueror?
“You are but a fish in the river…”
“Sorry, Jeong-Jeong, from what I heard, it’s a good speech. But it kinda misses the point, ya know what I mean?” Sokka could have bit his tongue, but it was too late. Shit, why was it he had to remember that particular reminiscence of Aang’s? And here he’d been such a good boy, quietly eating his weight in rice balls and really good dumplings as the two earlier servers seemed to appear magically every time a tray was emptied.
The fury behind the old fire-bender’s eyes was truly frightening, and Sokka frantically searched his empty pockets in the hope of finding a smoke grenade that had been missed in the early-morning search that had deprived him of his bone knife and more apparent weapons.
Even Zuko’s face assumed a paler shade.
“…misses the point? The point, you insolent fool, is that you and your whole generation cannot possibly see all the strands that destiny weaves betweens the world we know and the worlds we don’t. Who are we to presume to judge the actions of greater spirits than ours, or to gauge the lots of nations against each other…”
“Fuck that. Sorry, old man, I guess that was pretty coarse, but hey, I’m just a friggin’ Tribesman. I don’t give squat about destiny. What I know is that the Water Tribes got no call to bow to the Fire Nation, the Earth Kingdom, or anyone else! We’re free to make our own choices. And what goes for us, goes for everyone else,” Sokka kept his voice calm, although he could feel his own temper starting to rise with every word he spoke. “The point is that I don’t see the Fire Nation offering anyone - even its own - a good reason to live. And I mean live, not just exist! So why shouldn’t everyone, every man, woman and child, fight back against the Fire Lord? Why? Because they’re afraid. Well, they don’t have to be anymore. Because the Avatar is back and we can all fight back! And that’s just what we’re all here to do. Oh, and damn it, you don’t have to be a bender to fight - I know that from the heart! You just have to believe!”
Zuko turned to face Sokka in shock and surprise; Jeong-Jeong’s own gaze was full of quiet appraisal. Sokka himself seemed a bit surprised at his outburst. He glanced down quickly at the empty tray, hoping desperately for some mouthful to shut himself up from saying more. But even as his eyes surveyed the empty tray he found his own jaw setting in a firm line. The reality was, he had no regrets for his words.
The various candle-flames scattered around the hut flared in a wild waste of wick and fuel, although Sokka assumed that the actual fuel was the barely contained emotions of the two fire-benders with which he shared the hut. The light briefly rivaled the noonday sun easing down upon the encampment, and those who had served with fire-benders before glanced askance upon the hut itself, but none dared to challenge its depths.
“That is so damned easy for you to say!”
“What do you expect, smart ass? Can you prove you got something better on offer?”
“Like you backwards morons would even listen.”
“Yeah, we’re morons, so why bother to even ask. Fuckin’ idgits”
“You…would be willing…to talk to…one another.” Jeong-Jeong was thoroughly distracted from his own rant by the sight of the two boys squabbling before him, passions obviously raised and yet no sense of actual violence between them, despite the harsh words.
“Talk to him? The guy can’t think his way out of a paper bag. It is so pathetic how we would take advantage of him.”
“His arrogance! He wouldn’t see a scam if it bit him hard in the blubber - and oh, it would bite him hard! I laugh to picture the monuments to his foolish decisions.”
“Bring it, Shit-head! I’ll teach you all about the zero-sum game!”
“Zero-sum - Hah! I had to explain ‘variable’ to you, ass-hole. You wanna know zero-sum…!”
----------------------
Perhaps an hour later the two boys met again, this time the lines between them were yet more clearly demarcated. Zuko no longer appeared in Water Tribe garb, or even Earth Kingdom clothes.
From somewhere, Jeong-Jeong had procured rich red and black silks, the loose over-tunic and ballooned trousers of the Fire Nation. Zuko’s scuffed and worn shoes had been replaced with heavy, turned-toe boots. Sokka observed the apparent ease with which Zuko had made the transition from fugitive to prince, at least in appearance. Given the squalor and abuse he had suffered under during their incarceration, and the opulence he imagined Zuko had experienced for most of his life, he supposed he could hardly begrudge Zuko’s swift abandonment of the trappings that would remind him of his most recent months. He decided not to comment.
“Well, that was interesting.”
“Tell me about it.” Zuko led the way to some large rocks lining the stream that flowed through the encampment, seating himself with no regard for his raiment.
“You do realize he’s kind of crazy, don’t you?” Sokka bent to grab a handful of smaller stones near the water’s edge, idly tossing one after the other and watching them skip.
“Yeah. Definitely shy a full load,” Zuko followed the skipping stones as they traced a diagonal against the stream’s course. “Still, some of what he says makes a lot of sense, you know? You’re lucky, I think, to be so sure of everything, Sokka.”
It was a first, and Sokka’s arm registered the momentousness of the statement by plowing the stone in his hand directly into a half submerged rock rather than effortlessly skimming its surface.
Zuko had never actually verbally acknowledged the other boy’s ascendancy over him in any way, and it struck Sokka as starkly ironic that he should choose the point on which he felt the least security.
“That’s me,” he said, half spitting out the words, “They don’t call me the idea guy for nothin’.”
“Idea guy?” Zuko looked at him in earnest, his earlier comment more than half the product of his own contemplations and an ease with Sokka bred of too many days and nights in the other boy’s company. “You can’t be serious. They couldn’t come up with something better than that?”
“Okay, so we are linguistically challenged,” Sokka answered. “Well, except Toph, maybe. That brat has a nasty way of coming up with labels that stick.”
“The earthbender? Oh, I gotta know, tell me some of these labels,” And Zuko felt his shoulders relax as he realized that his not-so-subtle restatement of his Fire Nation allegiance had not severed the odd bond he had established with Sokka.
Sokka’s lips twitched. He wasn’t wholly comfortable being here with Prince Zuko, and he desperately missed their earlier ease. He decided a little more intimate history wouldn’t compromise the Avatar’s position…
“She calls Aang ‘Twinkle-toes’, you know. I mean, there are times I find myself almost calling him that, for spirits’ sake.”
“Oh, that’s good. The kid’s really light on his feet, but talk about turning a virtue into a laughing point! You’re right, she’s clever.”
“Oh yeah. A one-girl army, that’s our Toph. While you’re laughing at her stand-up routine, she’ll clobber you with her earth-bending,” Sokka scooped up another handful of pebbles. “Face it, Zuko, the tide really has turned, and Aang is just the beginning!”
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Chapter 20
“Highness, do you intend to challenge me, or may I offer you and the…excuse me, your companion, some refreshment?” Jeong-Jeong allowed an unusual wry note to color his tone. Truly, the current situation had shocked him beyond his normal black outlook on the world.
“He was gonna say ‘fool’, I just know it…” Sokka grumbled, although his stomach leapt at the thought of food. The last evening’s bowls of stew at the tavern seemed eons ago, and the sun was currently riding high in the sky.
“So, how is it he knows you so well?” Zuko answered in an aside, even as he inclined his head to the old soldier, years of training taking hold as he drew himself into an almost unconscious regal stance, bestowing gracious acquiescence upon a vassal. Sokka took note and groaned, not sure he was entirely happy to see a remnant of the imperious prince assert itself, even as the implied insult was somehow reassuring.
The surrounding soldiers appeared to hesitate for a few brief moments. A few looked hard at Zuko, and the prince felt the weight of their measuring gazes even as he appeared to ignore them. It was with obvious reluctance that they all withdrew, but whether it was because they didn’t trust the young prince or because they wanted to see more of him none could be the judge. In any event, as Jeong-Jeong turned his back to lead them towards a small hut both boys noticed they were suddenly alone with the older man. Neither felt particularly more comfortable.
“So, I don’t suppose Chey is still with you…?” Sokka ventured as he followed Zuko through the low hanging covering the doorway. “I mean, I learned some good stuff from him, and I thought maybe he’d like to hear how I used it… Oh, never mind.”
Sokka was fairly sure the old man was barely aware of his presence, but somehow he didn’t feel quite free to excuse himself. And of course, he’d been offered food as well, hadn’t he?
Not, at that point, did there appear to be much in the way of “refreshments” inside the dim hut. Jeong-Jeong folded himself up on a mat in the corner, low stands of candles at irregular intervals around him that flared as he positioned himself, and then settled as he did. At one side a kettle could be seen steaming over a brazier, a teapot nestled nearby warming in the spillover heat.
Zuko knelt gracefully before the older man, his golden eyes unflinching upon him. Sokka hesitated briefly, then opted to seat himself a bit to the side and behind Zuko. He consciously slouched into a comfortable pose he knew he could abandon immediately for a warrior’s stance on his feet. Damn it, he was Water Tribe. He wouldn’t give deliberate offence, but nor would he kow-tow to the Fire Nation.
An extraordinarily long silence fell over the hut.
It was first broken by an audible growl from Sokka’s stomach. He merely smiled blandly as the other two glanced at him. Almost immediately afterwards two men with trays of food appeared, and Sokka allowed himself to be distracted by an assessment of their offerings.
Zuko found himself absorbed in his contemplation of the legend before him. His Uncle Iroh was a national hero, but Zuko had known him all his life, and familiarity with his uncle’s easy-going nature and mild manner made it easy to forget he was the fabled general who had carved a swath through the Earth Kingdom and even breached the outer wall of Ba Sing Se. But Jeong-Jeong was one of the figures of military history who had loomed large in Zuko’s studies, not least because his exploits encompassed not only decades passed but even into more current history. As General Iroh was the Dragon of the West, Admiral Jeong-Jeong had made a name for himself as the Serpent of the Southern Deep.
It occurred to Zuko that Sokka probably was unaware of Jeong-Jeong’s history as the Admiral who had brought the Southern Water Tribe to its knees. He decided, given the boy’s apparent lack of overt animosity there, that he wouldn’t be the one to educate him.
As Zuko observed the old soldier he noted the deep scars marring his visage, and harkened back to the pain he had felt both during his Agni Kai with his father and during his battle with Sokka’s water-bending sister. The blades of water and ice could be as devastating as those of flame. As he was marked by his own father’s violence he wondered at the more precise markings left by some anonymous water-bender upon the fire admiral. When, he wondered, did he first start to question the reason for bearing the pain?
---------------------------------------------
“Perhaps,” Iroh ventured, “I might see the map? Remember, Young Ones, that I’ve traveled much of this world before you. Even if I can offer nothing in aid, it would be of interest to me to note any changes since the last time I passed this way…”
“Of course, Iroh, how silly of us not to think of that ourselves,” Aang replied, tossing the map into Iroh’s hands with an idle flourish of air-bending.
Although used to Aang’s air-bending herself, Katara kept her eyes on the map in case the apparently lazy adult missed the gesture. Iroh’s easy grasp of the scroll was reassuring, and served to remind Katara that Iroh’s indulgent demeanor was, in fact, somewhat deceptive.
“An yes, An Dui, I think I remember… A nice little harbor, close-mouthed populous, rather opportunistic as I recall. Totally typical, actually. But perhaps so many years of war taints the idealism of anyone, don’t you think?”
Katara had begun to suspect that the old man dropped such comments quite deliberately. It was, she thought, not just a warning to be prepared but also a broader cautionary tale for Aang and the rest of them.
“The Saki Port well to the north is a likely starting point for him; it’s actually closer to the prison, but Aang says he feels Sokka is somewhere near An Dui,” Katara actually said. “Anyway, he’s had more than enough time to make it that far south if he were lucky.”
“Yeah. And ‘luck’ is Snoozles’ middle name,” Toph said gloomily. There came a point wherein no amount of thinking about love could overcome the helplessness she felt clinging to Appa’s fur or even ensconced in his saddle. The reality was, it was only with a firm grip on Aang or Sokka that Toph was really comfortable flying, and even then it was only by benefit of the focused concentration from her bending exercises.
“Don’t, please, remind me! Besides, Aang said he felt him alive and well near An Dui!”
“I did, Katara, seriously,” Aang said cheerfully. “Remember, you felt it too! Sokka’s alright! And no matter what he’s said in the past, I do know how to read a map!”
“Right.”
It was Iroh’s turn to look dubious. It had never occurred to him that the air-bender might have relied on someone else for direction, least of all a non-bending peasant boy. Still, there was no doubt that the others in this group felt some sense of reliance on the Water Tribe boy. And truthfully, it had become clear to him that the Avatar’s exploits had passed well beyond the realm of luck some time ago. Much as he appreciated the talents of these young ones gathered together he couldn’t help but sense that something was missing. They all seemed to agree, and believe the missing element was their friend.
Iroh knew better than to disagree out of hand.
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When the food had arrived Jeong-Jeong had poured the hot water into the tea-pot, and Sokka had had the sense to recognize some more formal eating ritual than any he had ever been involved in before was taking place before him. Jeong-Jeong and Zuko spoke to one another in a language he recognized, but whose meaning seemed to escape him.
Keeping his head, he watched Zuko and imitated the other boy, keeping his own silence. Well, except that for every delicate bite Zuko took Sokka managed a surreptitious second bite. And for every gracious word Zuko spoke Sokka merely gave a nod. He knew he couldn’t manage gracious, and he’d be foolhardy to even try.
Sokka remembered those columns he had created in his mind about Zuko’s various traits, aligned at that time under “good”, “bad”, and “could go either way” (as in maybe useful someday). He remembered how heavily weighted the “maybe” column had been, and thought suddenly how he had assessed Zuko much as one might assess a tool to be used, not a person. He was, briefly, ashamed, even as he moved Zuko’s court education over into the “good” grouping. Odd how that balance had unconsciously been shifting over time.
“Your Highness,” Jeong-Jeong spoke clearly, “My Lord. You are, of course, aware that there are even more bounties on your head than there are on mine.”
Well, nothing like clearing the air, thought Sokka. He remembered that the old man never seemed to be one to waste his words or pull punches.
“As you said yourself, Admiral,” Zuko answered evenly. “You owe me no fealty. Why bother with honorifics in addressing me?”
“My family is old in your family’s service,” Jeong-Jeong responded. “More importantly, you’ve given me no reason to suggest you don’t deserve the honor.”
Sokka suspected that Jeong-Jeong had chosen his words quite carefully. He held his breath for Zuko’s answer. He heard a careful intake of breath in the other boy.
“No? I seek my destiny, Admiral, and yet you suggest to me it is something I cannot comprehend…”
Oh hell, not that again. At least Aang is the Avatar, and his destiny is to work towards the world’s balance. What the hell can Zuko’s destiny be anyway, except to be a brute and a sociopathic conqueror?
“You are but a fish in the river…”
“Sorry, Jeong-Jeong, from what I heard, it’s a good speech. But it kinda misses the point, ya know what I mean?” Sokka could have bit his tongue, but it was too late. Shit, why was it he had to remember that particular reminiscence of Aang’s? And here he’d been such a good boy, quietly eating his weight in rice balls and really good dumplings as the two earlier servers seemed to appear magically every time a tray was emptied.
The fury behind the old fire-bender’s eyes was truly frightening, and Sokka frantically searched his empty pockets in the hope of finding a smoke grenade that had been missed in the early-morning search that had deprived him of his bone knife and more apparent weapons.
Even Zuko’s face assumed a paler shade.
“…misses the point? The point, you insolent fool, is that you and your whole generation cannot possibly see all the strands that destiny weaves betweens the world we know and the worlds we don’t. Who are we to presume to judge the actions of greater spirits than ours, or to gauge the lots of nations against each other…”
“Fuck that. Sorry, old man, I guess that was pretty coarse, but hey, I’m just a friggin’ Tribesman. I don’t give squat about destiny. What I know is that the Water Tribes got no call to bow to the Fire Nation, the Earth Kingdom, or anyone else! We’re free to make our own choices. And what goes for us, goes for everyone else,” Sokka kept his voice calm, although he could feel his own temper starting to rise with every word he spoke. “The point is that I don’t see the Fire Nation offering anyone - even its own - a good reason to live. And I mean live, not just exist! So why shouldn’t everyone, every man, woman and child, fight back against the Fire Lord? Why? Because they’re afraid. Well, they don’t have to be anymore. Because the Avatar is back and we can all fight back! And that’s just what we’re all here to do. Oh, and damn it, you don’t have to be a bender to fight - I know that from the heart! You just have to believe!”
Zuko turned to face Sokka in shock and surprise; Jeong-Jeong’s own gaze was full of quiet appraisal. Sokka himself seemed a bit surprised at his outburst. He glanced down quickly at the empty tray, hoping desperately for some mouthful to shut himself up from saying more. But even as his eyes surveyed the empty tray he found his own jaw setting in a firm line. The reality was, he had no regrets for his words.
The various candle-flames scattered around the hut flared in a wild waste of wick and fuel, although Sokka assumed that the actual fuel was the barely contained emotions of the two fire-benders with which he shared the hut. The light briefly rivaled the noonday sun easing down upon the encampment, and those who had served with fire-benders before glanced askance upon the hut itself, but none dared to challenge its depths.
“That is so damned easy for you to say!”
“What do you expect, smart ass? Can you prove you got something better on offer?”
“Like you backwards morons would even listen.”
“Yeah, we’re morons, so why bother to even ask. Fuckin’ idgits”
“You…would be willing…to talk to…one another.” Jeong-Jeong was thoroughly distracted from his own rant by the sight of the two boys squabbling before him, passions obviously raised and yet no sense of actual violence between them, despite the harsh words.
“Talk to him? The guy can’t think his way out of a paper bag. It is so pathetic how we would take advantage of him.”
“His arrogance! He wouldn’t see a scam if it bit him hard in the blubber - and oh, it would bite him hard! I laugh to picture the monuments to his foolish decisions.”
“Bring it, Shit-head! I’ll teach you all about the zero-sum game!”
“Zero-sum - Hah! I had to explain ‘variable’ to you, ass-hole. You wanna know zero-sum…!”
----------------------
Perhaps an hour later the two boys met again, this time the lines between them were yet more clearly demarcated. Zuko no longer appeared in Water Tribe garb, or even Earth Kingdom clothes.
From somewhere, Jeong-Jeong had procured rich red and black silks, the loose over-tunic and ballooned trousers of the Fire Nation. Zuko’s scuffed and worn shoes had been replaced with heavy, turned-toe boots. Sokka observed the apparent ease with which Zuko had made the transition from fugitive to prince, at least in appearance. Given the squalor and abuse he had suffered under during their incarceration, and the opulence he imagined Zuko had experienced for most of his life, he supposed he could hardly begrudge Zuko’s swift abandonment of the trappings that would remind him of his most recent months. He decided not to comment.
“Well, that was interesting.”
“Tell me about it.” Zuko led the way to some large rocks lining the stream that flowed through the encampment, seating himself with no regard for his raiment.
“You do realize he’s kind of crazy, don’t you?” Sokka bent to grab a handful of smaller stones near the water’s edge, idly tossing one after the other and watching them skip.
“Yeah. Definitely shy a full load,” Zuko followed the skipping stones as they traced a diagonal against the stream’s course. “Still, some of what he says makes a lot of sense, you know? You’re lucky, I think, to be so sure of everything, Sokka.”
It was a first, and Sokka’s arm registered the momentousness of the statement by plowing the stone in his hand directly into a half submerged rock rather than effortlessly skimming its surface.
Zuko had never actually verbally acknowledged the other boy’s ascendancy over him in any way, and it struck Sokka as starkly ironic that he should choose the point on which he felt the least security.
“That’s me,” he said, half spitting out the words, “They don’t call me the idea guy for nothin’.”
“Idea guy?” Zuko looked at him in earnest, his earlier comment more than half the product of his own contemplations and an ease with Sokka bred of too many days and nights in the other boy’s company. “You can’t be serious. They couldn’t come up with something better than that?”
“Okay, so we are linguistically challenged,” Sokka answered. “Well, except Toph, maybe. That brat has a nasty way of coming up with labels that stick.”
“The earthbender? Oh, I gotta know, tell me some of these labels,” And Zuko felt his shoulders relax as he realized that his not-so-subtle restatement of his Fire Nation allegiance had not severed the odd bond he had established with Sokka.
Sokka’s lips twitched. He wasn’t wholly comfortable being here with Prince Zuko, and he desperately missed their earlier ease. He decided a little more intimate history wouldn’t compromise the Avatar’s position…
“She calls Aang ‘Twinkle-toes’, you know. I mean, there are times I find myself almost calling him that, for spirits’ sake.”
“Oh, that’s good. The kid’s really light on his feet, but talk about turning a virtue into a laughing point! You’re right, she’s clever.”
“Oh yeah. A one-girl army, that’s our Toph. While you’re laughing at her stand-up routine, she’ll clobber you with her earth-bending,” Sokka scooped up another handful of pebbles. “Face it, Zuko, the tide really has turned, and Aang is just the beginning!”