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“Your dad’s gunna kill us.”
Zuko and Sokka returned from the unsuccessful hunting trip tired, empty handed, and covered in mud.
The tired and empty-handed parts were just luck of the draw. The covered in mud was definitely Sokka’s fault.
It was a wonder they’d made it back at all.
“He might kill me.” Sokka paused for a moment along the trail, trying to scrape the layers of drying mud from his hands. Largely unsuccessful, he jogged back up to Zuko. “But you’re a prince!”
“What does that matter?” He didn’t even turn around to look at Sokka. He was even more irritated than usual, being chased and nearly captured having put him on edge. That, and the idea of what kind of welcome was waiting for him back at camp. The broken bait trap really had been an accident, but he doubted intent would make a difference when they were so low on supplies already.
“You just…I dunno. Order him not to be mad?”
“I’m not the prince of the water tribe!” Zuko threw up his hands, acutely aware that his breath was coming in quicker and hotter than normal. “Or even the fire nation, anymore. Disgraced is part of my title.”
“Oh, well.” Sokka considered a moment. “Actually I think Katara will be more upset about the broken trap than dad will.”
“Oh great! Even better.”
“She doesn’t hate you anymore!” Sokka insisted, but it didn’t even sound like he believed it. “She’ll be mad for like, a bit. Maybe until after dinner. Then I’ll help her make a new one and it’ll be like nothing ever happened. Besides, I bet Aang found tons of berries and plants we can all eat. It’ll be fine.”
Zuko did turn around, this time. And just the look on his face was enough to silence Sokka the rest of the walk.
The hope they’d be able to sneak back was thoroughly ruined when they rounded the corner to the Northern air temple gates.
Hakoda was waiting for them.
Sokka brightened at the sight of his father, picking up the pace. Zuko wanted nothing more than to turn around and march straight back into the woods. He couldn’t deal with this. He’d take his chances with the fire nation soldiers.
Hakoda was a fine man. Decent and upstanding, he even reminded Zuko a little of Uncle. But he was the senior member of an enemy tribe to the fire nation, and even if the Avatar himself had taken a liking to Zuko, his status as the banished prince hung heavy at all times.
“You’re late.” Hakoda sounded calm, but clearly wasn’t.
Zuko almost stopped in his tracks at the tone in Hakoda’s voice. He was mad.
“You were supposed to be back before losing light. You didn’t even signal.”
It was nearly dark, now. What little light there was cast long shadows behind each of them down the path.
“We couldn’t!” Sokka immediately argued, which did nothing to convince Hakoda and only put Zuko’s teeth on edge.
“We had fire nation on our tale the whole way!”
“Don’t tell him that!”
“What? It’s true. We lost them before coming back here, but the whole forest was crawling with guards.”
Hakoda looked between the two of them.
“The patrols are thorough” Zuko admitted. “It’d be smart to move where we hunt for a while.” Not like there were many options, but it was just too dangerous to be predictable.
“Plus we’re down another trap.” Sokka added.
Hakoda pinched the bridge of his nose, his exasperated expression eerily similar to Uncle’s. “Katara won’t be happy.”
“Whatever,” Sokka waved the remains of the rudimentary snare. “We’ll help her fix it, right Zuko?”
Hakoda was still just looking at them. Eyes sharp and searching for…something. Zuko didn’t know what.
Maybe—
“It wasn’t his fault!” Zuko blurted before he could really think about it. There was a chance if he did damage control now, things wouldn’t get out of hands. “I broke it.”
Sokka was still currently holding the two snapped pieces, but had gone still at Zuko’s words.
“What?”
Hakoda looked more surprised than anything, his stern mask cracking a bit to show genuine confusion.
Zuko took advantage of the shock while it was still there, stepping forward so that he was positioned between Hakoda and his son. “I did it. It’s my fault.”
Sokka was trying to say something, but Zuko shot him a pleading look in the hopes he’d just keep his mouth shut. It was better if Zuko handled this. He could take it. He could. It was something he used to do a lot—negotiating who’d take the blame when he and Azula were little.
Zukko shuffled forward another inch, and despite the itching in his skin he bowed deeply to show Hakoda the respect he deserved. “I’m willing to accept the punishment.”
Hakoda had been about to say something, but that stopped him up short. “Punishment?”
“Come on, man.” Now Sokka sounded nervous now, too. “I told you, I’ll help Katara make a new one. We’ll do the dishes for everyone tonight, and it’ll have blown over by morning.”
Zuko straightened up, but still couldn’t quite bring himself to look at either of them. “Sure, but. I mean…” Why didn’t Sokka get it? “That’s not a proper punishment.”
“And what…” There was no mistaking it now, Hakoda was very angry. “Do you believe would be a proper punishment?
Hakoda stepped forward. Zuko would not shrink back. He wouldn’t. It would be so much worse now if he did. Zuko stared him down, weighing his options. What came out of his mouth next would tip whatever delicate balance the conversation had. How did they do things in the Water Tribe?
Well, he knew how they did things in the Fire Nation.
“Fire nation customs dictate a duel, of each party when authority is disrespected.”
It was clear from the look on Hakoda’s face that this wasn’t the right answer. “You expect me to…duel you?”
“It’s not...” Zuko swallowed, finding it suddenly difficult. “It’s unusual, as a form of punishment. There are…other options.”
No matter what he said, Hakoda just seemed to get more and more upset. Zuko just kept digging himself deeper and deeper into this hole.
He fought the urge to bow again, remaining straight and holding eye contact with Sokka’s father. “But I’ll accept whatever the water tribe deems a fitting punishment.”
Hakoda, if anything, just looked more enraged by that. Was Zuko going to have to beg on his knees?
Hakoda stepped forward, and this time Zuko shrunk back. He couldn’t help it.
“You want me to fight you? For breaking a bait trap?”
“He thinks he deserves it.” Sokka sounded accusing, which wasn’t fair at all. They were supposed to be on the same side, here. Zuko was trying to take the punishment so Sokka wouldn’t have to. “For everything else he’s done.” Sokka had stepped forward from his other side, and now Zuko had nowhere to go.
“Just not my other eye.” Still, it continued to be the wrong thing to say. It earned him a look from Sokka of what…horror? Disgust? But no one had agreed to leave his other eye alone yet, maybe it was a losing battle. Maybe Katara would jump at the chance to pay him back.
“Zuko…” Hakoda was thinking hard about his next words. Zuko’s skyrocketing heartrate could barely take it.
“Please.” He made himself take one step forward, then two. Close the distance between the two of them. He just ended up on his knees, good eye hot with tears. Not for the first time, begging people more powerful than himself for mercy. “I’m sorry. Please.”
“Breathe. Zuko, breathe.”
He wasn’t sure when Sokka had gotten in front of him. Zuko could only see his own hands and the discolored dirt where his tears landed.
Without much thought he grabbed Sokka, clinging to him like a lifeline. The boy was bony, small. Things Zuko would have exploited as weaknesses earlier now hit him like a pang in the heart. It only made him cry harder.
There were more footsteps, voices overhead but Zuko was too lost in his own head to register any of it.
“Please, please mercy. Please.”
He’d messed this up, bad.
In trying to make things better he’d only made more of a mess. Typical, for him.
He could only hope that they’d remember they needed him. That they’d think of the big picture. They needed him to fight, to train Aang. And damaging him again like that would hurt their overall goal, right?
Maybe they’d spare him if he was useful and able to fight.
“Shh. Zuko.”
He hadn’t meant to say that last part out loud.
Suddenly he missed Uncle so much it hurt. A physical, tangible pain in his chest that only grew worse with each breath.
“I’m sorry.” His face was still smashed against Sokka’s shoulder, so the words came out muffled. “Sorry. I know crying won’t get me out of it. I just…just…”
“Zuko.” That was Hakoda’s voice again, but he didn’t sound angry anymore. He sounded…wounded? “No one here is going to hurt you.”
And for some reason, that was the final straw for Zuko’s fraying nerves.
He pushed away from Sokka and sat up. “I’m going to be sick.”
True to his word, Zuko only had time to stumble to a crop of bushes on the edge of the path before throwing up his meager lunch.
Someone, he thinks it’s Sokka, rubs his back tentatively.
“I’m tired.” Is all Zuko could manage, but when he turns to see Sokka’s face it seems understanding.
“Okay. Ok, yeah. Come on.” And Sokka pulled him up and past the other’s worried faces, to somewhere blessedly quiet where he can curl up and sleep.
//
It didn’t take long for Hakoda to find him.
After waking long after nightfall, and wolfing down the dinner left out for him, Zuko went to meditate.
He was still getting used to living in such close proximity to the others. Aang especially had no sense of personal space. And when they were sleeping everyone seemed to delight in climbing all over him. It’s not that he minded it, really. But sometimes he needed to be alone the same way he needed to breathe.
The dark and the quiet helped, but he still felt achy and sore like he did after a sparring session.
It couldn’t have been more than an hour of watching the candle’s tiny flame flicker up and down before he looked up to find Hakoda standing in the doorway.
The flame jumped and sputtered. Zuko hoped it was subtle enough that Hakoda wouldn’t notice.
“You can come in.” Better to get this over with as quickly as possible.
“I didn’t mean to startle you.” Hakoda stayed in the doorway, unmoving.
“You can come sit with me. I’m just meditating.” Zuko nodded to the small fire. “Uncle taught me. It helps me…it just helps.”
Hakoda approached cautiously, maybe because of the fire between him and the fire bender. But it wasn’t just fear on his face, there was something else there too.
“Aang told me, about fire nation duels. What they’re like.”
Zuko had nothing to say to that.
“Zuko…” Hakoda swallowed. “Is that how you would be disciplined? Normally?”
Zuko just stared, acutely aware of what his own face must look like in the wavering shadows.
He let Hakoda put the pieces together. Watching the moment it all clicked, he saw Hakoda go through all the stages of grief then and there.
“For far less than breaking something. For even perceived disrespect. I was—” But he cut off the thought at the sight of the now naked pity on Hakoda’s face. “Spare me your anger. I’ve seen it in Uncle for years, even if he tries to bury it under shame. There’s nothing to be done about it now.”
“Zuko…” Hakoda took a steadying breath. “I’m very sorry the people in your life have seen fit to treat you like this. It’s not right.”
There was a long moment in which they sat with the silence and the breathing flame.
Then, “I’m sorry. About today. I didn’t mean to scare anyone.” Zuko admitted, the shame hot in his chest. He refused to let it show on his face.
“Zuko…”
Ah. He knew that tone. Here came the question.
“How did you get your scar?”
“How do you think?”
Zuko snuffed the fire with a clenched fist, and stood. Leaving Hakoda —the only way he could—in the dark.