Chapter Text
Viewing from his still-growing treetop fortress, Jet grimaced at the sight below him.
They’d been at it for weeks. Day in, day out. Jet and his ever-growing group of recruits - the young girl who had chosen the name of Smellerbee for herself, alongside the ever-quiet Longshot being his second-in-commands - had observed the sight with disgust. And despite having led several successful operations to take out the Fire Army’s ongoing supply lines, it felt as though the Firebender armies were endless in number.
The Fire Nation is bringing their savagery to this peaceful little valley, the Freedom Fighter thought,
And unless we keep those monsters busy here, they'll keep spreading, like some living, breathing sickness at work.
Jet remembered that day. That day his life changed forever, and forever set him on his path.
He was a mere seven-year old when the Rough Rhinos tore apart his home and butchered his parents, all because the great Dragon of the West, or his less-savory nickname, the Butcher of Ba Sing Se, demanded it so. For General Iroh had a village he needed conquered on the way to securing a stable front. A stable front for troops to march through and take out the Earth Kingdom Capital, and if some doddering Earth peasants stood in his way, then they'd fall before the hand of provincial destiny.
Jet was fourteen, now.
Jet was fourteen, and as his parents died for him, he'd use his life to ensure the Fire Nation scum had as few chances to orphan more children and butcher more innocents as they could.
Thankfully, the Freedom Fighter mused, I've heard there’s been a new Dragon that caught the Fire Nation’s attention.
I hope she's doing well.
Jet didn't know much about the spreading rumors, about the rebel sect rising up within the heart of the Fire Nation itself. She could have been anything. The theories were as concrete as her appearance, as the only stated information was that she traveled under the guise of full-body blue veils, not an inch of skin visible. Supposedly, she traveled with followers too.
But the truth confused him, and even the new recruits who joined the Freedom Fighters had heard very interesting - and all very different - things.
The Duke had heard she was a witch that uses the full moon to control people, like some dark puppetmaster.
Sneers had proclaimed she was some long-dead Fire Princess, executed at the behest of the current Fire Lord. Or was it the last Fire Lord? Or both? Somehow her spirit was raised for revenge - maybe by the witches - and she had gone back to struck at the heart of the Nation that killed her.
Pipsqueak had thought she was once a prisoner of the Fire Nation, a captive from the Royal Palace, a Waterbender who died in prison reborn anew. At least that's what he got from the letters that had apparently been spreading through the colonies by a hijacked agent in the messenger hawk mailing system.
Others proposed theories were as far-fetched as she was the last of an uncontacted tribe, she was a Blue Dragon-Spirit who could take human form, or that she was raised in a coven of witches nursing a grudge against the Fire Nation.
But rumors about more than just the Azure Flame-wielder's origin had been going up-and-down the colonies, as supposedly threats by the Blue Dragon had convinced sects of the Fire Nation to begin withdrawing their support from the Colonies. Turning the culture of fear back inward around itself.
It was surprisingly effective, In one case, one family that acted as colonial governor forsook their assignment and returned to their home islands, sending said settlement into an uproar. In turn, allowing an uprising carried out by a man named Tyro to claim the village back for the Earth Kingdom, after the settlement was plagued with cruel, chafing restrictions that made even the act of Earthbending itself illegal.
And with all this brilliant action stirring up the pot, Jet was more motivated than ever to do his part in ridding the Earth Kingdom of every last-one of these awful colonies. These parasitic lamprey-roaches, suckling on the rightful soil of Earth Kingdom land.
These disgusting conquerors - these Fire Nation dogs - needed to be muzzled as soon as could be.
While it may have been wiser to focus on gathering a greater recruitment base... spend at least another year or two here building things up and amassing all the souls he could to his call... He wanted to make a name for himself.
A name that maybe even the Blue Dragon would recognize.
So that night, he gave Smellerbee and Longshot a note on how he'd be out for the night,
and took a barrel of blasting jelly down to the new Gaipan Governor's House.
He danced through shadows, through wispy autumnal trees and slid down hillsides into the town. The entrance to the town was supposed to be guarded by two Firebending soldiers - but the Freedom Fighter saw neither, and was able to slip right through.
Gaipan wasn’t completely impoverished, as far as Fire Nation colonies go. This could be the result of the fact mere months ago it still belonged to the Earth Kingdom before being apparently taken in a single strike (which is what attracted Jet to this location as his hideout’s central command -
For a moment, Jet looked up, and remembered it was a full moon.
Perfect, he thought.
The Dragon’s Night was upon him.
He crept into the high district, quickly maneuvering his way to the Governor’s Manor - so obviously given away by its larger size and plentiful hedges in comparison to the poor districts, and even in comparison to its fellows in the upper district - before planting the blasting jelly and preparing the next phase.
Jet’s plan was simple.
Jet’s plan was direct.
Jet’s plan was almost too easy.
But the Freedom Fighter was not one to question the miraculous absence of the colony town’s guards, all throughout the half-hour he had been snooping through Gaipan. Planting the Blasting Jelly on one side of the one-story house (he checked through the windows, yes, there was a bedroom there. The colonial governor would be dead in a single stroke, and the towns would be none the wiser that it was an act of rebellion committed by naught but children atop trees), the teenager smirked, planting a piece of wheat in his mouth as he admired his handiwork.
All he needed now was a flame, which was a substance the colony conveniently kept in braziers and streetlights. Yet, as the Freedom Fighter turned to leave, grab the last item required to complete his mission, a voice struck him.
A feminine, young, yet sharp, punctuating voice, coming from inside the house.
Jet couldn’t help but listen in.
“And if you do not pack up your arms and leave this colony by tomorrow’s end…” the voice drawled.
“I will scorch your army remnants ‘til you fall. I will watch as more of your guards choke their own throats, if the array now coating the inside of your living-room walls didn’t suit the decor.”
An older man - the colonial governor, presumably - swallowed audibly at the threat. A creak of wood indicated that the man was being backed into his bedroom, which Jet could confirm, although he could not see who the source of the sound was from his angle.
“I’ve heard you’ve been having supply issues anyway. I’m sure with a little snap, that could get much worse for a rather large number of you.”
Suddenly, Jet felt a shiver run down his spine. A shiver that was not his own. His body stiffened, by a command not his own. The wheat dropped from his mouth.
The voices paused for a moment, before the girl spoke once more.
“And in exchange for abandoning this colony and retreating today, I will reward you. When I sit on the throne, when I am Fire Lord, I’d be happy to grant your daughter that promotion to the trade ministry she always desired. I’d be happy to take your elder son - Jee, was it? - from a lowly lieutenant serving under a no-name commander, and get him a higher rank more befitting of his status.”
The Freedom Fighter tried to move his head, but a sharp turn of his body that was not his own held him back.
“All you have to do,” the girl spoke, in a tone that sounded almost soft, if you didn’t know better, “is act now and capitulate. Endure the scrutiny of a soon-dead Fire Lord for a year or two at most, and then soon reap in decades’ worth of worship at the feet of the Dragon.”
Jet’s eyes widened.
A shift in fabric indicated the man’s meek nod.
“Very good,” the Blue Dragon drawled. “And don’t worry; I’ll leave you to your own devices, for now. But if I come back tomorrow and I don’t see this village clear of your flags…”
The sound of ignition of fire made the Freedom Fighter - still stuck pinned to the wall - flinch.
“You’ll be buried in ash, before you join it yourself.”
As three figures in veils - one red, one blue, one white - exited the house, seemingly having somehow silently communicated their capture of the forcibly muted Freedom Fighter - he could not so much as twitch, let alone open his mouth to scream, one thought ran through Jet’s mind. Over, and over, and over, unceasingly.
They kept his feet hovering just above the ground, and he hovered in place behind them. At the sight of his barrel of blasting jelly, the Veiled One in white hoisted it into her arms while the Veiled One in blue’s palms ignited azure.
He had no idea what kind of witchcraft was being worked on him. There was only one thing that was certain.
And so, as Jet was held in place hovering above the ground, having been marched all the way back into his own treetops by the Veiled Ones, he gasped, and he spoke.
“You’re… the Blue Dragon,” Jet gasped. "The Blue Dragon of the South,"
The girl seemed to nod. Her body obscured in thick veils, heavy robes, and a conical hat, she stepped forward, her palms re-igniting with azure flame. Behind her, the women caked in red and white kept their arms raised in peculiar poses.
“Are you Fire Nation?” the Blue Dragon asked, her voice sharp and cutting. Even from here, Jet could feel the taste of flame.
“No! No! I’m a Freedom Fighter!"
"Are you sure? It was quite easy for my associates to spot you... peeping in from. Their talents with Red Water are so interesting..."
"I was going to stage an attack on the Governor's! We’re on the same side!” Jet pleaded. “Put me down and I can explain everything.”
The Veiled One in Blue, Azure Flame igniting in her palms, circled him once. Twice. Then, as if nodding, the Veiled One in red flicked her wrist, settling him down. But before Jet could plead his case, she, too, spoke. An arm emerged from her heavy robe, obscured in appearance by the shadows of the trees.
“You better be telling the truth! You better not be some little agent sent out to make us look bad.”
“No! I’m the one who's been hitting their supply lines. I promise! I can take you to my camp, and everything!”
“You’re wasting your time, love,” the Blue Dragon drawled, her own hand - a human hand, although it looked as though it was clawed, or just had very very sharp nails - coming down and planting itself over the Red Veiled One’s exposed hand.
“That’s not one of them.”
Jet blinked. He was sure the other Veiled One, too, blinked.
“How do you know?” the Red Veil's voice queried.
“Because,” the Blue Dragon smirked, her hand coming to intertwine with the other’s,
“Just as my mother said. I’m a people person.”
The Veiled One in white stayed silent, but put the Blasting Jelly down.
The Veiled One in red gave the Veiled One in blue a slow, steady nod.
“Okay,” she began, reluctantly motioning with her hands, releasing Jet from the grasp. It took him a moment of breath for his muscles to stop contracting and for him to stand steady again.
“Take us to your camp, then,” the other Veiled One proclaimed.
All Jet could do was nod, and carve a path through the woods.
“Jet!! You’re back!!” Smellerbee quickly embraced him in a hug, along with several other Freedom Fighters. Even a campground of children had to have some proper night patrol, and while they may not have known what exactly he was up to, the group knew to trust their leader. The one who had united them, picking up disparate orphans from impoverished towns. “What were you out—”
Smellerbee silenced herself as soon as she realized three girls - or women, she wasn’t sure - certainly all a head taller than them, shrouded in conical hats and thick robes had followed the older boy back to camp.
“...Jet.”
“That,” the Freedom Fighter proclaimed, pointing to the central girl.
“Is the Blue Dragon of the South.”
The group, cowed, took several steps back. The Blue Dragon took a moment to flare out azure from her palms, before stepping forward.
She placed her hat down, and before the girl in red could finish ‘what are you doing?’ she tucked down her veil, unveiling her face.
She had long, raven hair, tied back in a topknot with some kind of ornament. She had pale skin, and amber eyes. If Jet had seen these features on anyone else, he’d instantly suspect them for their clear Fire Nation heritage. But this girl was not one of them. This girl was the scourge killing them from the inside.
“Well,” Jet smiled, “aren’t you a pretty face.”
“She’s taken,” the voice under the Red Veil stepped in front of the Blue Dragon rather loudly, "is what she is."
Jet flinched, stepping back. The Dragon barked a sharp laugh.
“That would be my future Fire Lady,” the unmasked Blue Veil spoke up, smirking. Her amber eyes cut ahead as she studied the camp ahead. "And she is taken, too, as a matter of fact."
The Duke ran up to the guests, dropping his spear carelessly, inspecting the Dragon's presence. Pipsqueak snatched the dropped weapon, just in case. Those two had found each other before ever joining the Freedom Fighters, and they were always inseparable.
After a moment of amusement, the Dragon squatted down, so the child could be at eye-level with her.
"Something to say?" she spoke, surprisingly casual.
"Hm..." the Duke thought.
“You're kinda young to be the Blue Dragon.”
The amber-eyed girl snorted.
“You're kind of young to be in a group of armed fugitives.”
“Oh…” the Duke nodded, eyes widening, before stepping back. He laughed. “I guess you're right!”
The ones in Veils white and red just turned to look at each other. Jet cleared his throat, and the Duke retreated momentarily.
"Right, I should introduce my Freedom Fighters."
"This is Sneers," Jet gestured out to one boy, "Longshot," to another with a conical hat, "Smellerbee, The Duke, and Pipsqueak."
"Ah. Well, it's an honor to meet you all," the Blue Dragon said, bowing. Jet bowed back, as did the rest.
The Veiled Ones bowed a little.
"Likewise," the Freedom Fighter started. "Sorry about earlier, again. Really, I didn't mean to come across as some kind of bad guy."
"Apology accepted," the Dragon nodded. "It seemed we simply had the same target in mind for tonight.
"Yeah," Jet snorted.
"We've heard all about how you've been disrupting the Fire Nation on their own soil. I never thought I'd see the day when a Firebender turned on one of their own, but I'm glad the day's come. It's gotta mean something, though, having fire that's a different color from the rest."
The girl grinned. "I've heard that one before. Consider it a mark of my alignment, with the Southern Water Tribe."
The boy ruffled his hair, before standing. "Huh. Southern Water Tribe, huh? So I guess that part might hold some weight..."
The Blue Dragon said nothing. As though she still wanted to exist primarily through rumor, not fact, even with those she trusted for now. It wasn't a bad tactic - it meant that even if Jet got interrogated, and broke, he'd never even be able to concretely speak anything about who she was outside of having basic Fire Nation features.
"You seemed to make pretty quick work of that Governor," Jet added, after a moment.
"We'll see if he capitulates," the Dragon drawled. "If not, you can take your little blasting jelly and blow the place to smithereens. But sometimes a good threat and a nice little shot of blue fire is all you need to make change."
"You've got that right. If I had some of that fire, I bet we could scare a bunch of them into submission just by the sight of it. Take out towns one-at-a-time, say they either have to move it or get burned."
"...Just the same way as the Fire Nation does to the innocents. Make them taste their own filth, spat back out," he muttered lowly.
The Southern Dragon looked on with sympathy. Even from beneath their veils, the other guests seemed to do that, too.
"Well, why don't you just do that?" The Dragon shrugged, turning the Freedom Fighters' campfire azure. "Just don't let that flame go out. Keep fueling it, and you can take fire from it as much as you can. Carry it in torches, what-have-you, or just light some trees in pretty blue around. I can't be here all the time, but..."
Her face rose into a smirk. Jet noticed the distinct, ruby red paint that coated her lips, along with the sharp eyeshadow. Whoever this girl was, she certainly had to have stolen or stockpiled quite a lot of resources to get her hands on such rich makeup.
"I've found myself these past few years always willing to fan the flames. Seeing as my flames seem to have fans, that is."
No one said anything for several minutes.
"Oh..." the girl - the Dragon's Fire Lady - in the red veil spoke up. "I get it."
"...You know," the Freedom Fighter thought, a hand on his chin, "You're right, Dragon."
"Why don't we just do that?"
He extended his hand.
"How about a little partnership, then? You give us a little flame to fuel us and we'll... Take your name, and use it to start getting more of these colonies running? Then you can really be in two places at once. We'll need a.. messaging system, but I'm sure we can manage."
For what could have been several seconds, or several minutes, no one said anything.
The Blue Dragon grinned, before accepting it. Both Freedom Fighters and Veiled Ones watched in awe. "I'm sure we can 'borrow' some messenger hawks for the task. We'll work out the details tomorrow. After all, we do have to watch and see if the idiots in town actually take a lesson."
"Well," Jet responded,
"No matter what those monsters throw at us, we'll have your back, Dragon."
The Blue Dragon smiled.
"By the way..." Jet added.
"There's been a lot of rumors about who you are. A Waterbender's ghost, a dead Princess, a witch-y Puppetmaster. Who really are you, Dragon?"
The Veiled Ones turned to look at each other, before the wielder of Azure Flame waved him off.
"Oh, you'll see when it's time."
The Freedom Fighter couldn't help but blink.
The Blue Dragon and their cohorts stayed with Jet for the day, hashing out arrangements and figuring out a future for their conjoined operation. Much had spiraled in the course of a few hours, yet then again, both groups being managed by teens and preteens meant plans escalated fast. All united in checking to see if the colony would come crashing down, its soldiers and new residents moving out as requested. Eventually, the veils of the other two came down, revealing another girl the Dragon's age - that being the Fire Lady, of course - and an elderly woman.
They never spoke to Jet or his friends of their true identities. Neither did they use any Bending, save the Dragon's Azure.
But sure enough, a... coalition had been worked out. A coalition that would prove fruitful.
Really, their talk in the woods, before ever joining the camp, had gone on a while. Jet had laid out his whole history before their eyes, and seemingly, the Dragon had taken notice. Negotiations escalated, and plans changed for both parties. But things seemed to generally be working out.
The Freedom Fighters would coordinate their strikes on the Full Moon, moving from colony to colony and spending months liberating it. Perhaps it meant they wouldn't truly be able to settle in the treetops as Jet had hoped, but that hardly was a concern anymore, seeing as the Governor was marching his troops from the valley. Then, when the Dragon sat on the Throne as Fire Lord, she would reconvene with them and issue new orders.
New Orders. The group would have to have a new name, too. They'd have to make a lot of changes, in order to keep their appearance as the girl's agents seem specific. But a unified, two-front rebellion - one in the Colonies, one in the Fire Nation - was bound to bring results, and so Jet was more than willing to answer to the girl he had looked up to with awe.
The girl and her Fire Lady, that was. She had begun to warm up to him, despite her seeming protectiveness of the Firebender.
Still. The day was successful. It changed Jet's plans, as it changed the Dragon's, but they could cooperate. The little mishap earlier was sure not to repeat itself. And, just as a bonus, the Blue Dragon did have Jet bring the blasting jelly to the encampment of straggling soldiers, before she ignited it herself.
In the end, the town of Gaipan was secured, without any destruction of the town, nor any destruction of its native inhabitants.
Jet and his band of rebels had won. And so had their guest.
So why not continue such a venture, into the dawn of a new world?
Their tactics seemed to most certainly align, after all.
“Keep the flame alive,” the Blue Dragon of the South had spoke, when she finally left. her voice almost tender, before slinking back into the shadows of the treeline. The other Veiled Ones - the ones in red and white - followed suit wordlessly.
She and her band had stayed for the full day-and-night, and - after Fire Lord, Fire Lady, Jet, Smellerbee and Longshot had all scanned the forest together - had truly driven away the band.
This girl certainly had a reputation of fear that cut through the Fire Nation's own cultured fear of their current Fire Lord.
“Keep the flame alive, Jet. And we’ll make sure all you and yours will have a place in our home, one day.”
So, Jet did his very best to do just that.
And before his very own friends, before his very own eyes, just a few minutes after the Blue Dragon left his presence,
He watched a physical Blue Dragon took off and fled into the skies, leaving the treetop warriors behind with nothing but a rising sun.
So many questions were left unanswered. Was this girl some kind of spirit? Spirit-blessed? A ghost? A phantom? A witch? A Princess? Who knew?
But in the end, he thought little about it. For, at the end of the day, what did it matter?
She was bringing change.
She was bringing change, and Jet would lead all his band to join her.
He did like the group's new name, too. Maybe one day, they'd get to test it.
Perhaps, Jet thought under the next full moon, Azure torchlight in hand, securing a Fire Nation garrison and raiding it for armor to repaint,
Perhaps, now, the Dragon of the South can bring justice to all the Dragon of the West hurt.