Focused Fire (ATLA)

Zuko found that he really hated being stuck in a ship’s cabin. But then again, he probably just hated being bedridden for a long time. His injuries were not severe, but were debilitating enough for the ship’s physicians to force a regimen of bitter herbal soups that left him groggy. 

Uncle Iroh would come in every now and then with his soft, paternal smile to check on him, but other than that and the gaggle of annoying physicians, Zuko was left alone in the cabin and stuck with his thoughts.

It forced his idle mind to wander, forced the prince to look back on his failures.

So close! He had been so damned close to getting away with the Avatar, if not for the treacherous terrain.

But then, even if he did get away with the airbender, what then? How’d Zuko get back home with his quarry if he had run out into the wilderness?

It was a shortsighted, idiotic plan now that he looked back on it. Fueled by desperation and enabled by luck, the whole affair had been a minor miracle now that Zuko thought about it. Somehow, he managed to find an entry into the Water Tribe’s city, and it was one located close to the inner sanctum. And he came just in time to watch everyone but two girls leaving the place. Nobody noticed him dashing from the sewer pipe into the Spirit Oasis, and while he lost the initial duel with Katara, reinforcements did not come to her aid quickly enough to stop him from breaking out when the sun rose. And even after falling into a shallow crater, he’d be a frozen corpse out in the northern wasteland if not for the Avatar’s mercy.

Lucky break after lucky break after lucky break.

There was nothing close to resembling a plan, and when Zuko recalled those moments, there was nothing that could be dressed up as instinctual cunning or adept improvisation. Zuko had been lucky, that was all.

And inevitably, the self-flagellating thoughts turned outwards.

Zuko had been nothing but lucky, but even that wasn’t enough to get him his prize.

Compared to brilliant Xing, courageous Xing, who according to uncle’s retelling had been planning Zhao’s execution for a while now, and had prepared for virtually all possibilities. Worse, the colonel carried out his mission under secrecy, so nobody can publicly acknowledge his exceptional deed.

Xing had saved the world from Zhao’s madness through well thought out plans and cunning, with even the consequences accounted for. 

Zuko couldn’t even improvise his escape route after capturing the Avatar.

Compared like that, the prince felt disgusted at himself for his abject failure.

The prince clamped down on his simmering emotions, unwilling to risk the physicians or his uncle seeing him break down. He couldn’t afford to lose the last shreds of respect anyone held for him.

Anyone except for Xing, as undeserving as Zuko was.

The colonel had sneaked in one day, poorly fit into a common firebender’s uniform. Zuko recalled how his gut twisted even while his heart felt comforted by the presence of the closest thing he had to a friend.

“My prince, I’m glad the news of your death was proven false.” Zuko didn’t feel worthy at all when Xing bowed deeply and saluted. “Worry not, we’ve only a few more days left before returning to Zilang and my healers will have you back up in no time.”

There was nothing the prince could really say, so he forced out an awkward ‘thank you’. Xing kept him company for a short while more, and Zuko hated every moment of it. 

He hated how much the other boy still respected him and treated him like the prince he was most certainly not.

He hated that the colonel was the one who had to hide his presence, considering the great service he’d done for the Fire Nation.

He hated knowing that he was once more indebted to Xing for saving him, since who knew what the Northern Water Tribe would do to an (exiled) royal prisoner.

Most of all, Zuko hated himself for contributing nothing but awkward and rude one-word responses to Xing’s attempts at conversation. The colonel was trying to buoy his spirits, but the prince didn’t- couldn’t accept the reassuring words, or the friendly smiles.

“I’ll leave you to your rest, your highness,” Xing finished with a bow, giving no trace of annoyance or pity at all, only genuine, undeserved concern.

Zuko was not only a dishonorable prince, he was a shit friend.

By the time they reached Zilang, the exiled prince could walk on his own two feet again, though shooting pains at various points of possibly fractured areas made it more of a shuffle. Under the cover of Colonel Hwa’s orders, Xing’s disguised bodyguards helped Zuko off the ship and carried him to the waiting party of undisguised soldiers of the 11th.

“You have waterbender healers,” the colonel said in a stern, matronly tone. “See to it that his highness received the right care to his wounds.”

Zuko felt a bit self-conscious as he was put on a low-riding wagon and transported over to the familiar barracks of the Princess’ Fire Lancers. He squirmed as the armored men and women all gave deep, respectful bows and addressed him with warm politeness. 

The waterbender healers were far more casual, and they got straight to it. Zuko didn’t know how long he was soaked in glowing, tingling water, but by the time they were done with him, the oldest healer had him stand up and walk around to make sure of their handiwork. 

While it felt good to be whole and unbroken again, the knowledge that he had yet another debt owed to Xing dampened Zuko’s elation.

It didn’t get better when he left the prisoners’ compound to find his uncle fidgeting uneasily. Xing was beside him, looking far less nervous but wearing a slight frown on his face. The soldiers around the barracks went on with their daily schedule, overlooking the presence of royals save for respectful nods from those walking close by.

“Ah, I see they did good work on you, Zuko,” uncle opened, and Zuko almost sighed. Trying to drag things out meant that it was probably bad news.

The younger prince decided to cut straight to it. “What is it, uncle? What happened?”

Uncle Iroh glanced at Xing, who gave a neutral look, and then offered a consoling smile at Zuko. “Well… Oh, your sister will be arriving soon. She’s very worried about you.”

As heartening as that was, it wasn’t related to the bad news. “What is it, uncle?” Zuko asked again.

The older prince hummed and hawed until Xing finally had enough and stepped in. “Prince Zuko, news of your survival has reached the royal palace.”

Oh. Oh.

Zuko suddenly felt a cold void bloom in his chest, and his whole body went stiff.

“Your father, Fire Lord Ozai, is relieved to hear of your remarkable escape from death. Crown Princess Azula has been ordered to prioritize the investigation of the botched assassination above all things. By the Fire Lord’s orders, you are to remain in Zilang until her arrival and any aid she might require of you is fulfilled.”

Zuko remained silent, bracing himself for the worst.

Xing’s shoulders rose and fell in a soft sigh. “Also, by the Fire Lord’s orders, your hunt for the Avatar is to be aborted.”

“What?!” Zuko’s eyes went wide, and he felt his jaw drop. 

The colonel continued, ignoring his outburst. “Your sentence of exile is to be amended; you will remain away from the home islands for another six more years before your exile is lifted.”

“B-But-”

“Until then, it is…suggested that you lay the foundations of your return here, in the colonies. The resources of the Colonial Ministry as well as the War Ministry will be made available to you, depending on what goals you wish to pursue.”

Zuko’s legs felt weak as he stared at Xing, and then swept it towards his uncle. The former met his stare with an apologetic look, while the latter was filled with sympathy. The soldiers were veering away from the trio, giving them a wide berth.

“Wha- What do… Why?”

“Oh, Zuko,” Uncle Iroh said as he stepped forward to reach for the younger prince. “I’m so sorry.”

“Why?” Zuko repeated, staring down at his trembling hands. Why had father given up on him in such an insulting manner? Were his results so bad? He’d gotten so close to the Avatar, damn it!

“No,” the prince whispered, and then shrugged off his uncle’s comforting hand and stared at Xing. “Let me see it.”

“My prince?”

“My father’s order. The royal decree. I want to read it.”

It was uncle that answered. “Please, Zuko. I’ve checked it myself, your father’s decree are as Xing says.”

Zuko stared at his uncle, and then realized the truth: Xing had sanitized his delivery of the order. 

His eyes began to sting and his body trembled, but Zuko still fixed his gaze on the colonel. “I want to read it.” 

Xing met the stare for a few silent seconds before sighing. “Your highness shou-”

“Let me read it Xing!”

Another sigh, and then Xing proffered the gilded scroll. Zuko snatched it and began reading. As he read the words, the insinuations, he forced his hands to tighten its grip instead of letting go.

“As no results have been produced, Prince Zuko will be ordered to cease his futile quest…” 

“…exile commuted to six years, missions appropriate for his average aptitude will be considered…”

“Until he proves himself worthy of his royal title, all royal prerogatives will be withheld…”

It took all his strength for Zuko to remain standing as he forced himself to read through the scathing decree. And then he got to the next paragraph.

“Until then, the hunt for the Avatar will be open to any who deem themselves talented and experienced enough. The Avatar is now wanted by the Fire Lord, dead or alive. The reward for presenting…

His vision blurred and at last, Zuko’s legs gave out. He dropped to his knees, the scroll clattering out of his hands. The stunned prince barely felt his uncle’s consoling embrace, and didn’t hear at all his words of encouragement.

He truly was a failure, then. Father had had enough of him, had given up on him.

Three years. His uselessness was tolerated for more than three years.

Zuko wanted to let his tears flow freely, but his mind was still in shock as it digested the implications of the decree.

Even after he returned, no matter what he did now, he’d be seen as the prince who couldn’t end his exile by his own hands. The new terms of his return were made significantly easier, out of pity by his father. He’d not be able to regain any respect from the palace.

He’d not be able to regain his honor.

Despair turned into anger, and Zuko got up to his shaky feet, even with his uncle’s weight on him. After gently but firmly pushing his uncle aside, the young prince wiped his wet eyes with the sleeve of his robe and began to walk.

Xing stepped into his path, palms open in a placating gesture. “My prince…”

“Out of the way, Xing,” he replied, almost snarling. “I need to find the Avatar.”

“Zuko-”

In a flash, Zuko turned towards his uncle. “I almost got him!” he roared in anguish. “I almost, almost captured the Avatar! With my own two hands! I had him!”

“I know, Zuko, but please. The day is late. At least rest for the night.”

“Your uncle is right, Prince Zuko” Xing said calmly. “You cannot rush into this blindly. You need some rest and some time t-”

“I don’t have any time left! I had three whole years of time! Wasted!” Zuko exhaled aloud, and then let out a strangled sob as he pressed his face into the palms of his hands. “I’ve been failing my father for three years…”

“Please, your highness, do not hold yourself so lowly. You should not judge yourself solely by your father’s esteem.”

Something in him snapped, and the young prince was snarling at Xing. “Who are you to say, Xing? What do you know about disappointing your father, you orphan?”

Before the words fully left his lips Zuko knew he made a mistake, not just from the shock on Uncle Iroh’s face, but the flash of genuine pain Xing revealed. The colonel quickly recovered back to stoic neutrality, but his eyes betrayed the hurt he felt at Zuko’s words.

More importantly, Zuko noticed a heavy, deadly silence descended on the training grounds. He glanced about with a sudden cold running up his spine, and found the stares of scores of soldiers fixed on him. 

Stares of utter shock which quickly turned into cold hostility.

Zuko turned back to Xing, his mouth opening to apologize, but the colonel coughed and then raised a hand to forestall both his words as well as the soldiers around them. “You…you are right, of course, your highness. I… It is not my place, as…an orphan…to speak of such things.”

“Xing, I’m-”

Xing spoke over Zuko as if he didn’t hear him at all. “But please know that I gave my…inappropriate suggestion with your interests in mind.” He paused, and then looked like he wanted to continue, but ultimately the colonel just sighed. And then he looked past Zuko towards Uncle Iroh.

“I think it is best that you both find rest in Zilang’s inns for the next few nights. I do not think the 11th can host you for the time being.”

Zuko felt the full weight of his uncle’s disappointment for a second before the older prince nodded at Xing. “I understand. I’m sorry for-”

Xing shook his head. “It is…nothing. Or will be nothing.” The smile he gave was brittle and wavering. “The prince is in an understandably poor mood.” Then Zuko almost reeled back when the other boy directed his gaze at him. Shame flooded the prince as he saw the pain in those eyes. “Please get some rest and heed your uncle’s advice, Prince Zuko.”

After a stiff bow, Xing walked off in a hurry, leaving Zuko to suffer the disapproving frown of his uncle.

“Uncle, I-”

“Later, Zuko,” the older prince said curtly with a firm hand raised. “Come. We’ll need to find a room before it gets dark.”

Zuko remembered the murderous stares he was getting from the compound, and then hastily left with his uncle. He kicked himself in his head throughout the trek into town. He’d been reckless again, and this time it might very well cost him the respect and friendship of the last person to consider him as such. 

Uncle Iroh also remained silent throughout, shaking his head and tsking every now and then, even as he secured them a room for the night.

Finally, in the privacy of their rented room, the older prince began to scold Zuko. “That was a very, very foolish thing you did, Zuko.”

“I know, uncle.” Zuko hung his head as he sat on the bed. He could offer no excuse. 

“Look at me. You’ve insulted not just a friend, but someone who has been supporting you all this time. Xing has offered his aid freely, and asked for nothing in return. You’ve dishonored yourself, Zuko.”

“I know, uncle,” he repeated wearily. “I messed up badly.” 

That Xing hadn’t called him out for a duel - at least not yet, who knows what tomorrow would bring - was a small mercy Zuko was very much aware of. Then the memory of countless cold, hateful eyes boring into him made him shudder, and the prince then realized that a small mercy might not be enough.

Would it be safe here tonight, or maybe he’d have better chances leaving Zilang?

“You’ll apologize to him first thing tomorrow,” uncle continued. “Formally, and publicly. The 11th will forgive you eventually, I’m sure.”

The 11th. Not Xing. Even Uncle Iroh knew the true danger here.

“First thing tomorrow,” Zuko agreed with a heavy nod. Sharp knocks interrupted the conversation, and the older prince went to the door. Zuko’s blood ran cold when he heard a familiar voice. Too late did Zuko realize that his estimation was wrong - the 11th wasn’t the true danger.

“Good evening, uncle.” Azula’s cold voice was filled with royal contempt and a sibling’s disgust. “Now move aside and let me talk to my ungrateful, tantrum throwing brother.”