#hakoda

Chapter One:

When one is the Chief of a tribe and leader of a war fleet, there is never a dull moment. Shananigans from the youngest of the crew, enemies at almost every port, spirit 'hauntings', and the moon turning blood red before disappearing from the sky completely, leaving the world in darkness before returning soon after.

Today, of course, had been no different.

Hakoda had been in his cabin, skimming through and responding to correspondence letters with their allies in the Earth Kingdom, his ink staining the paper gracefully when a shout from above deck drew his attention.

Setting down his brush and closing the ink pot, he stood and exited his cabin to get to the deck. Once the sunlight hit his face and he shielded his eyes with his left hand, he signalled for Bato with the other.

"What's happened?"

"Body in the water." His second informed him, expression tight as he turned his attention to the group of five shouting and hauling a rope from the water. "Blood was in the water, I'm surprised none of the beasts have gotten to 'em yet. Doesn't look good, but Toklo swore he saw the thing breathe and dove in."

"I can see that." Hakoda said dryly, bringing his hand back to his side once his eyes adjusted. He approached the group of his crew, standing out of the way as Toklo was drug aboard by the rope tied around his waste. What looked to be a mutilated body was grasped in his shaking arms, quickly taken and laid out on the deck as he untied himself and shrugged off his now soaking shirt. They were in colder waters than the Earth Kingdom, verging on the borders of their sister tribe in the North, so Tonraq hurried to warm his friend up along with Katjuk while Tukkuttok, their healer, and the rest of the crew clamored around the body.

The small crowd split for Hakoda to make it to the front as Tukkuttok turned the body on its back and immediately checked for a pulse. Meanwhile Hakoda inspected the body.

They were small, probably just meeting his shoulder if they stood to their full height. They were skinny too, lanky and thin, like they hadn't been fed in months. Their clothes were waterlogged and dark, torn nearly to shreds. What caught his attention though was the scar on their face. It was older than the rest of their injuries, and large, cover the entire left side of their face, the skin around their mouth twisted and red around where their teeth were slightly exposed. Hakoda poked his tongue in his cheek in sympathy, before moving on to the rest of their injuries.

Their skin was mottled and bruised, infected gashes and burns plaguing what looked to be nearly translucent skin, bits of metal sticking out against the blood that leaked and seeped into the boats wood, creating a stark contrast from the ghostly complexion along with the long, knotted black hair as dark as the night had been a week ago without the moon.

But despite all that, there was the slightest rise and fall of their chest, uneven and shaky as it was.

"They're alive." Tukkuttok confirmed, barking orders for medical supplies to be ready and strong hands soon after. Hakoda observed as Amaqjuaq waited for the okay before scooping the stranger in his arms, as if lifting a feather. As soon as their feet were off the ground, the stranger groaned and mumbled something unintelligible. They all paused, waiting to see if they would speak, but nothing more happened than the flinch of their body when they tried to move.

"Get them below deck." Tukkuttok ordered, waving Amaqjuaq forward as they moved quickly past him. "I'm going to need a lot of ale for this one."

When Amaqjuaq disappeared below deck, the rest of the crew began to talk amongst themselves, divulging in conspiracies and theories about their new addition to the Alnuk. Hakoda let their words wash over him as he turned to Bato, eyes stern.

"There hasn't been a storm for some time. How did they get all the way out here? They didn't look northern..."

"They're definitely not Water Tribe. Maybe the colonies?" Bato suggested. Hakoda rolled his shoulders at the prospect of Fire Nation being on his ship. They could be a bender, though an earthbender wouldn't be so bad. There were so many unknowns to the situation and Hakoda needed to write back to the Generals about their rendezvous at Chameleon Bay. Crossing his arms and tapping his fingers against his bicep, Hakoda thought, watching his men drape blankets over Toklo's shivering frame. Shivering was good, looks like hyperthermia would be kept at bay.

"I need to get back to General Houk. Check on Tukkuttok and keep me updated, once they wake we can go from there."

Bato nodded, clapping Hakoda's shoulder before he too went under. Hakoda walked up to the men still surrounding Toklo, hands on his hips as he looked down at the young man.

"What you did was brave, but also stupid. Next time, at least wait for someone to grab the rope. We can't have you drowning while trying to save someone else."

"At least he grabbed the rope this time." Someone jabbed, making Toklo flush red in the cheeks as everyone laughed heartily. Hakoda chuckled lightly, shaking his head.

"Alright everyone, back to work. Toklo, get some food from Tiq and warm up. If you start sneezing, go see Tukkuttok."

"I know the drill, Chief." Toklo huffed, puffing his cheeks out. Hakoda nodded, walking back to his cabin to sign off his letters.

He had barely sat down at his desk when Bato came running in, eyes wide.

"'Koda, you've gotta come see this." He stood immediately, following him.

"What is it?" He asked, matching the quick pace of his second. 

"We may have a bit of a problem." Was all he said, opening the door to their infirmary. Tukkuttok stood over the pale body in a small cot, a candle in their hand that was held close to the figures face.

"What is it Tuk? Why aren't they being treated?"

Tukkuttok said nothing, only beckoning Hakoda closer and bringing their hand to the strangers right eye to open their eyelid for him to see. Hakoda kneeled at their side with furrowed brows, feeling the heat coming off of the stranger in waves.

"His eyes..."

Hakoda breath caught in his throat. Instead of the brown or amber eyes he might have seen from someone from the colonies, as he had expected to see, he was instead met with dilated golden eyes, nearly the same color as the inferno he so often faced when struggling against the enemy.

"He's Fire Nation." The healer announced the obvious, still slightly stunned, but cold resolve settling in their own gaze when they looked at their Cheif.

Hakoda hummed in acknowledgment, studying the pale ashmaker in his infirmary. His first instinct was to draw his knife and slit their throat, stab their halting chest and dump them back overboard.

But they looked young. Their left jaw was slightly round, still holding the fat of youth. They had no wrinkles around their good eye or mouth, nothing indicating a life long lived.

(Then again, Fire Nation usually looked twenty until they were seventy, so that wasn't saying much.)

It was also strange seeing Fire Nation so far North. There hadn't been any reported fleets or ports for them in the area. The water was freezing and there wasn't much up here that they would want unless they had decided to finally bring the Northern Water Tribes into the war.

The moon was blood red, casting everything in horrid shadows, stealing their lantern light and the color of everything around them.

And then it was gone, nothing but the dim stars winking from the darkness. Tui had been full in her beauty, leading their path, but now they were trapped in the night. No cloud could have been responsible, no weather or storm was waning at their ships boards. It was impossible.

Until she returned, shining brighter than ever, giving life to the tides and a new swell to La's waves.

...perhaps that's where he came from. An invasion on the North? There were too many questions and with a void of answers, Hakoda's glare shifted to Tukkuttok with a shake of his head and a sigh while he rose to his feet with aching joints.

"Treat them."

"Chief?" Tukkuttok cautioned, sweeping the candles light towards him.

"It doesn't make sense for them to be out here, and with Tui last week? We need answers." When the healer still didn't look convinced, Hakoda pressed his hands to his hips with a shake of his head, glancing at the infected wounds weeping from every exposed patch of skin.

"Keep them sedated if they wake, and be careful with the candles. If they survive with these infections, I'll question them once they're lucid enough, and see where to go from there."

Because child or not they were the enemy and Hakoda was not going to put his men in unnecessary harm.

Leaving the infirmary to find a way to explain the situation to his crew, Tukkuttok stared warily at the ashmaker in their cot.

"You better be worth the trouble, ashmaker." They hissed, beginning to clean infected wounds littering fevered skin.

The home-burner groaned lowly, as though promising they wouldn't.

ོ𓂃𖠳𓂃

Zuko woke mostly delirious and with open wounds, so he did the only logical thing a completely sane and normal person would do.

He lit his hand on fire and burned the closest ones closed, stopping when he hears footsteps outside of the unfamiliar, wooden room that swayed side to side. He jumped to his wobbly feet and scanned the room, eyes catching on the port hole he could easily reach if he stood in the chest beneath it.

The healer opened the door to an empty room breaking of burnt flesh and fresh sunlight streaming in.

ོ𓂃𖠳𓂃

("Kill me." The boy growled, molten eyes glaring with a fire a dying man shouldn't have. "I dare you."

("Unhand me!" The fever-stricken boy demanded as he struggled against the two Water Tribesmen. "Do you know who I am?"

"A no-good ashmaker?" One of the crewmen asked rhetorically from the sidelines.

"I am the Crown Prince of the Fire Nation and you will let me go this second if you know what's good for you!"

The entire deck went silent with that, unsure if these were more of the boys fever induced delusions, or something to be taken seriously.

"What was that?" One of the men holding his right bicep asked. The boy - prince - sneered as he held his head high, shoulders back and spine straight as he stared Hakoda in the eyes.

"I am Prince Zuko, first-born son of Fire Lord Ozai, heir to the throne."

Well, things just got a lot more complicated.

(Hakoda was frozen by the fire in the golden eye that darted around its surroundings.)

(They had tried to keep him in the infirmery. He tried to kill himself. Hakoda ties Zuko to the main mast saying that, "if he burnt it down, then he REALLY wouldn't have anywhere else to go."

Firebenders have a higher tolerance to the sun, but Zuko still ends up getting a tan/ burns after a while. The crew pours buckets of dirty water on him to make the mast less flammable and to prevent him from dying of heatstroke. And for their own enjoyment, seeing the Fire Nation royal looking like a drowned cat.

Zuko had shimmied down the mast so he could sit cross legged and his eyes closed, but anytime someone was on deck, which was almost always, Zuko would glare at them, and they would either glare back or ignore him.

Zuko refuses to sleep. And when he's about to, he holds fire to his wrist. The crew keeps smelling burnt flesh wafting by, but don't think much of it after sending a suspicious glance at the prince. (When he can finally see the healer, he asks why the burns look so new and aren't from the rope. Zuko says that he didn't allow himself to sleep. The healer feels something akin to guilt)

Ideas:

The healer is opening his eyes and suing a candle to see if they dilate, when they gasp. Hakoda turns from where he was staring out the window, brows furrowed in instant concern.

"What?" He asked, kneeling at the healers side to see what the problem was.

"His eyes..."

When Hakoda turned his attention to the eyelid pulled open, his breath caught in his throat. Instead of the brown or amber eyes he expected to see from someone from the colonies, as he expected to see, he was instead met with lifeless golden eyes, nearly the same color as the inferno he so often faced when struggling against the enemy.

"He's Fire Nation." The healer announced the obvious, still slightly stunned, but cold resolve settling in his own gaze.

Hakoda hummed in acknowledgment, but quickly pushed the thought aside. The boy laid out on the bed was just that, a kid. Despite his heritage, he was hurt, nearly dead, and he had burns, both new and apparently old. He'd wait for the kid to wake up before casting his final judgment, but admitted that they did need to proceed with caution.

"Keep him sedated when he wakes, and be careful with the candles. We'll question him once he's lucid enough, and see where to go from there."

Because child or not, he could be the enemy, and Hakoda was not going to put his men in unnecessary harm.

---

"Kill me." The boy growled, molten eyes glaring with a fire a dying man shouldn't have. "I dare you."

---

"Now, go apologize to him." The Chief commanded, not unkindly. The Fire Nation Prince met his gaze with confusion.

"Why?" Hakodas eyebrows rose almost to his hairline.

"Why?" He repeated.

"Apologies are nothing but excuses." The boy explained, as if it were obvious. "Why would he want to waste his time with mine?"

"Oh yeah? So what do you do when you've done something wrong in the Fire Nation?" Hakodas asked.

The boy was no longer confused, but solemn, taking on an expression that could be emotionless were it not for the flicker of something in his eyes.

"I prayed he'd forgive me." The boy spoke monotonous, hand slowly tracing the edge of his scar, and Hakoda couldn't do anything but let the growing black pit in his stomach grow wider.

"Well we do things differently here." He shook his head, trying to dispell that expression from his mind. "Apologies are important. They're a sign of strength, because it takes bravery to admit you're wrong. They're not weak, and they're not a waste of time."

He pointed a low finger at him, trying to be non intimidating.

"Go apologize

---

"Unhand me!" The fever-stricken boy demanded as he struggled against the two WaterTribesmen. "Do you know who I am?"

"A no-good ashmaker?" One of the crewmen asked rhetorically from the sidelines.

"I am the Crown Prince of the Fire Nation and you will let me go this second if you know what's good for you!"

The entire deck went silent with that, unsure if these were more of the boys fever induced dilusions, or something to be taken seriously.

"What was that?" One of the men holding his right bicep asked. The boy - prince - sneered as he held his head high, shoulders back and spine straight as he stared Hakoda in the eyes.

"I am Prince Zuko, first-born son of Fire Lord Ozai, heir to the throne."

Well, things just got a lot more complicated.

---

The prince was swabbing the deck with fury as usual, scowl set like stone and shoulders rigid like cliffs fighting against the oceans tides.

However suddenly he stopped, a peculiar thing in and of itself, his shoulders tensing up impossibly more as he lifted his gaze from the offending wood and onto the horizon, brows furrowed and scowl slipping into a pensive frown as he studied the even water and cloudless sky.

(Name)checked for any boats or signs of unease among the vast sea, but found nothing of interest.

"You finally taking a break?" He teased, expecting an indigenous jab and snarl in return. But to his utter disbelief, Zuko stayed still, brows only furrowing deeper.

"It's going to rain." He said suddenly, then blinked, as if caught off guard by his own statement.

"Rain? Kid, there isn't a cloud in the sky."

Ah, there was the scowl.

"I can see that!" He snapped, thoughtful expression turning into one of frustration, his glare turning from him back to the sky. "But it's going to rain! I can feel it, I-" He blinked again, multiple times in rapid succession, as if he couldn't believe them. Then just as suddenly he was back to work, scrubbing at the deck with a newfound vigorous anger.

"Nevermind, forget about it." He grumbled scornfully. (Name) took on a pensive look of his own, but Zuko didn't notice. (Name) looked back to the sky, checking to see if he'd missed anything. But there was nothing.

Shaking his head with irritation, he huffed.

Brat was probably just messing with him.

-

The storm came out of nowhere.

And Zuko looked just as smug as he was confused.

"How did you know?" (Name) asked.

"I don't...know."

---

It had been a few weeks, and Zuko had been getting antsy. Something was on his mind. His gaze would linger on Hakoda when he was sout for a bit too long, and the line of his mouth would twist as he bit his cheek.

It was putting the crew on edge.

So Hakoda decided to get it over with and called the boy to his cabin. He was standing behind the chair with his hands behind his back and feet shoulder width apart, his eyes never meeting Hakodas but his head was held high.

Hakoda was somewhat used to this behavior and did the thing he knew would get the boy sit.

"Sit down, Your Highness."

Zuko's shoulders hitched up, before he forced them back down. He sat stiffly, hands clasped in his lap and eyes focused just right of Hakodas shoulder. The chief sighed.

"Is there something you'd like to ask me?"

The fire benders gaze snapped to his, gold eye wide with shock and hesitation. He worked his jaw as he seemed to struggle to say anything.

"The crew has been reporting your odd behavior, I figured I'd just get to the root of the problem." He prompted further, hands folded on the desk as he rose his brows.

"I- uh," he winced, before schooling his expression, breathing slowly through his nose. His eyes flit to the side before meeting his for barely a second. Then they settled back over his shoulder, spine straightening somehow just a bit more. He cleared his throat. "I would like to request a... privilege, that I believe would benefit my performance among the ship." He finally managed to say, voice clear and annunciated as he stated his request.

Hakoda leaned back just slightly, watching the boy intensely. "What kind of privilege?"

The prince took another deep breath, his struggle clearer yet with the way he continued to work at his jaw.

"I...before I was brought aboard," he began, throat tight as he swallowed, putting conscious effort in keeping the bitterness out of his voice. He wasn't entirely successful. "I would perform katas every morning as the sun rose, and as it set. All firebenders rise with the sun." He added the last part almost as an afterthought. The Chief made a considering noise, meeting the boys eyes even if he never looked away from the wall. "It would help me hone and control my bending, preventing unwanted...outbursts." he winced again. "It's sort of a form of...release, and practice. Discipline, if you will." He blinked quickly, clearing his throat again. "In short, I would like time to practice these exercises at dawn and dusk. Sir."

Hakoda watched him resist to figet in his seat, brows pinching in discomfort. He refused to meet the chiefs eyes. He did, however, start tracing the grains in the walls wood as he waited.

Finally, after watching the boy squirm for a bit, he spoke.

"Would these katas include firebending?" He cocked a brow.

"I can run them dry." Zuko responded almost immediately. "Without fire, that is. Just the movements."

"Would this impede on the members of my crew and their jobs?"

"I'll stay out of the way. Besides, hardly anyone wakes as early as me."

Hakoda hummed in thought a moment longer before giving a slow nod, tapping his thumbs together a few times.

"Alright. I grant you this request. I'll inform the guards first, and I'm sure word will reach the rest of the ship soon enough."

Finally, the princes eyes shot to his, wide once again. He nodded curtly. Hakoda leaned in further, eyes narrowed.

"But if you break our deal on firebending, you'll lose this privilege for the foreseeable future. Am I clear?"

Zuko nodded quickly again, a spark shining in his good eye. Hakoda might even dare say it was hope.

"I understand. Thank you, sir."

When he didn't get up to leave, his eyes quickly finding the wall once again, Hakoda suddenly remembered how the boy operated.

"You are dismissed."

And with a final nod, the firebenders was out the door.

-

The next morning, Hakoda made an effort to be awake even before dawn.

He greeted the night guards as they passed, and settled himself on the balcony above the ships main deck.

Just as he started to see the first sliver of sun appearing from the horizon, the hatch leading to below deck creaked open, silent footsteps following seconds later. Before Hakoda knew it, Zuko with was within his line of sight, already dressed for the day. He crept to the front of the ship, just short of stepping on the bow of the ship.

Hakoda sat and watched, simultaneously enjoying the sunrise and keeping a cautious eye on the Fire Nation Prince.

The boy has his back to Hakoda, and he rose his hands slowly above his head, before letting them fall in front of himself and bending at the waist, head bowed just as low.

Hakoda began to wonder the significance of katas. He remembered the stories of his tribes water benders. How sacred the moons power was to them, and the spirit of the water. He wonder what legends the Fire Nation passed down.

As the sun began its journey into the sky, Zuko moved across the front of the deck in large, sweeping motions. He began slowly, each step as deliberate as his breath, but as he grew more confident, the quicker his strikes became. They were controlled, and even from this distance, Hakoda could make out the determined set of his mouth, the strong form of his shoulders, and the deft motions his feet made as he moved across the ships wood.

It almost looked like a dance, Hakoda mused. A complicated and intricate dance that could easily be used to bring harm.

True to his word, Zuko ran the exercises dry, not a spark in sight. Even still, Hakoda could see where the flames were supposed to be. With a well placed punch and sweep of his feet, Hakoda could picture the blade of flames meant to be there.

The sun was a half globe in the sky when Zuko made his first mistake. He had been moving in quick succession, a blur of limbs under the shadowed sky, when he leaped into the air, one foot extended as the other folded beneath him, arms bound right to pack a punch as soon as he landed.

But when he did land, he stumbled, arms whipping in front of him as he fell. As soon as he came into contact with the ground, Zuko used the momentum and rolled, landing in an uneven crouch.

Hakoda saw his shoulders rise and fall heavily before he suddenly slammed his fist onto the ground, a steady stream of steam leaving his ears. Hakoda frowned, already half standing to put out the inevitable fire from the bender, but paused when Zuko stood, cracked the joints in his neck, and started again from the beginning.

He fell the next time too. And the time after that, sparks shooting from his mouth as he scowled and huffed in frustration. But each time he would right himself with a roll of his shoulders and start over, each move deliberate in their execution.

Hakoda was only willing to confess in the confines of his mind that he was impressed by the boys determination, though it wasn't anything particularly new - if the first few weeks on the ship were anything to go by - but seeing the young prince train by himself with movements obviously drilled into him over years and years of practice, showed a great discipline Hakoda wasn't expecting, but realized he should have.

By the fourth try, Zuko managed to stick the landing and continue smoothly into his next position, the steam and sparks dissipating the longer he practiced without mistakes.

After what must have been close to half an hour, with the sun well on its way into the sky, Hakoda began to hear the stir of his crew below and the smell of breakfast wafting on deck. He stood with and groan and creak of his bones, back popping as he straitened out. Only 45 and feeling like an old man. Great.

He planned on telling Zuko it was time to wrap up his firebending ritual, but was once again the boy seemed to beat him to it. With a final sweep of his toe, he stood tall and proud as he faced the sun once more, arms stretching far above his head like he did when he began the morning. Once Hakoda got closer he could see the fold of the boys hands as he bowed to the suns rays. Upon second glance, he could see that they resembled the symbol of a flame.

He waited only a moment longer, letting the pale boy soak in the morning light with his eyes closed like a fire lily, before stepping forward, his boots clunking against the deck. Zuko flinched, turning on his heel with a wide eye. His loose shoulders went tight as they always were in his presence, and something in Hakodas chest fest strange at the fact.

"Good morning?" He questioned, glancing behind the boy at the risen sun. It took a moment before Zuko nodded, his hands slipping behind his back as he fell back into a soldiers position.

"It was nice training with Agni again." He admitted. Then, as an afterthought, "thank you, again."

And Hakoda found himself smiling. "You're welcome."

Zuko's eyes somehow widened more, his scarred eye trying to join it. He didn't look sure how to react the Chiefs new demeanor.

---

There's music night and Zuko is mesmerized by the difference than those on his ship. There was much more dancing here and more sounds that didn't accumulate to singing. Just shouts and cheers of pure emotion.

He tapped his foot to the beat.

---

"We don't need you getting burned again." One of the crewmen joked, only to frown at the rigidness of the princes shoulders.

"I didn't burn myself." He growled, glaring at him. The crewmen around them froze as well. "I'm a better bender than that. I'm not stupid."

"No one said you were, kid." He placated, hands held up in surrender.

The boy scowled, turning his scarred side away from him.

A new question accumulated among the crew that night.

---

"Why do you never mention your mother?"

"My father never liked me talking about her."

"...what was she like?"

A moment of hesitation and contemplation, and then,

"She was lovely."

---

When in Zuko's perspective, he calls the sun Agni, but in anyone else's perspective it's just the sun.

---

The crew didn't see Zuko the next morning. Where he should have been meditating and performing his katas, there was nothing.

Then suddenly the boy was above deck, face determined but otherwise void of emotion. He walked briskly and with precision, like a man on a mission.

He stopped in front of Hakodas door, and knocked twice with a firm fist. After a few seconds, he was told to come in. He walked in without the usual obedience and hesitancy he usually held. Instead he look confident, but haggard with the dark shadows under his eyes and slight turn of his lips.

But what Hakoda noticed the most was that the Prince was meeting his eyes.

"I need to cut my hair."

---

Hakoda ties Zuko to the main mast saying that, "if he burnt it down, then he REALLY wouldn't have anywhere else to go."

Firebenders have a higher tolerance to the sun, but Zuko still ends up getting a tan/ burns after a while. The crew pours buckets of dirty water on him to make the mast less flammable and to prevent him from dying of heatstroke. And for their own enjoyment, seeing the Fire Nation royal looking like a drowned cat.

Zuko had shimmied down the mast so he could sit cross legged and his eyes closed, but anytime someone was in deck, which was almost always, Zuko would glare at them, and they would either glare back or ignore him.

Zuko refuses to sleep. And when he's about to, he holds fire to his wrist. The crew keeps smelling burnt flesh wafting by, but don't think much of it after sending a suspicious glance at the prince. (When he can finally see the healer, he asks why the burns look so new and aren't from the rope. Zuko says that he didn't allow himself to sleep. The healer feels something akin to guilt)

---

They gave him the job to sew and repair their clothes, the most hated chore aboard the ship. The crew laughed about it.

But instead of bouts of anger and frustrated shouting, the prince seemed oddly...calm. Well, as much as he could on an enemies ship. A few of the crew members even caught him humming songs they'd never heard of, but sounded rythmical like lullaby's and the stories of their own people. Not to mention that the boy was shockingly good at the work they put him to. His stitched were clean and precise, and he moved through the singed and patchy clothes with ease. He was done in less than half the time it would have taken anyone else on the ship.

Hakoda had managed to be nearby when (name) went to check on the boy and grunted in surprise. Hakoda paused what he was doing and watched.

"How'd a royal brat like you learn woman's work?"

The prince has ceased his humming upon the mans arrival, brows furrowed as his focused frown turned into his usual scowl. "I was at sea for three years, I had to learn how to look after myself and my crew."

"Didn't you have servants on that ship of yours?"

Now the prince just looked confused.

"No? It was just me and my men, and whatever supplies we'd manage at the ports. We didn't have much to afford luxerys such as new clothes every time they ripped." Now it was Hakoda's turn to look confused.

Before (name) could come with a retort, seeming to be floundering in is own confusion, the boy continued.

"And what IS woman's work anyways? Do you not know how to sew?"

"Wha- of course not! Thats left to the woman to take care of while the men hunt. Just like cooking and looking after the children."

The young prince had let his working hands fall limply in his lap, scowl replaced by a gobsmacked expression of bewilderment. Just as suddenly, a look of irritated rage took hold, his scar making the glare he sent (name) just that much harsher.

"Do you mean to tell me that if you were stranded alone, you'd be too prideful to cook your own meals and patch your clothes? You'd DIE before you would learn to sew your bleeding wounds, a decision that determines the life of yourself AND your men? You're telling me that you look down on basic survival needs, even after being away from your woman for years? What about (name)? He cooks every day. Are you calling him womanly or weak? And who sewed the clothes before me? Are you calling them inadequate? Are you really standing here and disrespecting your MOTHERS and SISTERS and WIVES because you think what they do is unimportant? Agni, how are you all still alive?" The boy spat literal flames by the end of his tangent, flowering at the man nearly double his height.

"Well- i- you dont-" (name) floundered, grasping for a coherent response, but was cut off by the princes scoff, steam spilling from his ears.

"Go attend your 'manly duties' if they're so important. Wouldn't want to distract you of your 'manly' competence." He sneered at the bone needle in his hand, not deigning to look at (name) again. And to Hakodas surprise, (name) did leave, a more figurative steam sleeping off of him as he stormed away.

(Name) Whistled lowly, eyes wide, as was the rest of the crew that had been within earshot. Hakoda couldn't help but agree.

Zuko didn't hum for the rest of the day, instead scowling and grumbling. His sewing was the best they'd seen since they left home.

---

Zuko's scar extends down his neck and shoulder, and partially to his chest. But the worst of it was on his face. If you looked closely, you could see the imprint of a hand within the burn. The hand of a man. The hand of his father.

---

"Have you ever seen someone die, Prince Zuko?"

For a moment the boy glanced away, a far away look Hakoda knew too well passing over his features. Pain and guilt swarming in his good eye. He nods slowly.

"Yes, sir."

---

When Zuko has THAT nightmare, he wakes up and mumbles off every name and age of every member of the 41st division. When one of the crew hears him spewing random names and numbers, he brings it up with the chief.

---

The explosion was worse than in the show. It took chunks of his skin and shrapnel stuck in his skin. By the time he made it to the ship they were infected. But he lived.

---

"Hakoda." Zuko whispered into the lingering silence, tears welling in his good eye as he looked up at him, his stubborn defiant facade nowhere in sight. It broke Hakoda's heart.

"Hakoda, I don't wanna be a bad person." A tear tracked down his cheek. "I don't wanna be like him." He murmured, voice breaking. "I don't want to. I CANT be like him i-" he broke off with a quiet sob, turning away and rubbing harshly at his eye.

Hakoda pulled him into a hug, heart breaking for this boy. The banished prince. Zuko.

He hesitated in his hold, but with a gentle squeeze, he latched onto him, so bing into his shoulder.

---

When Zuko learns the truth about the Southern Water Tribe, he doesn't know what to think.

Memories of the 41st Division begin to resurface, but he shoves them away far from the light of his thoughts.

They come back for him in the night.

---

The crew has music night. Zuko greatly misses his uncle. His uncle who taught him the ancient, banned songs of his people so unlike the pledge to the throne. His uncle who taught him dances centuries old. His uncle who told him stories and gave him illegal playscricpts when he was sick or, when on the Wani, bored enough during the lulls in his search for the avatar.

He was amazed by the differences in the culture of the Southern Water Tribe compared to his own, but could see the similarities. He was never surrounded by so many people who danced together so freely, to happily, truly enjoying the sounds around them and the tributes to the spirits. He had never been around so many people who were...unafraid of their ancestors.

Is that was he truly was of his family? Afraid?

Hand slowly tracing tracing the ragged edges of his scar, he could say that yes, he was afraid.

And looking around the men dancing and singing and shouting with such vigor, he began to realize that...maybe he shouldn't have to be.

So while it may have taken a bit of convincing (four weeks), Zuko did dance with the Water tribesmen with surprising grace, even sharing some of the dances his uncle taught him.

---

"The Fire Nation took out Water Benders. They've killed our people."

The prince shook his head.

"You're lying."

(Name) Surged forward, (name) and (name) holding him back by his arms.

"They killed my sister." He snarled. "They killed her in her own home!"

Zuko opened his mouth to say something more, something like 'well maybe she shouldn't have been in an army against the Fire Nation' when something else came to mind.

"What about the water bending girl?" He asked, turning to Hakoda and ignoring the scowling man. The chief froze, as did his second in command.

"What?" He breathed, barely audible.

"The Water Tribe girl. The one that travels with the Avatar? She's from the South Pole, yes?"

"Katara?" Hakoda dared to ask. The prince paused, looking thoughtful before nodding.

"Yes, I believe that was her name."

And before anyone could blink, Zuko was pinned to the main mast, Hakoda holding him by the front of his shirt with a fire in his eyes that could rival a firebender's if not for their ocean blue gleam.

"What did you do to her?" He slammed him against the wooden mast, making the prince wince. "What did you do to my daughter?" He growled.

Zuko's eyes were squinted in confusion, a scowl tainting his face.

"What in Agni's name are you worried about, I didn't-" he paused, only just realizing how he had worded his statement. Past tense. As of she were dead. Yes, he could see why that would be an issue.

"She's not dead!" He reassured. "And not hurt, as far as I know. In fact she's a very formidable opponent. I mean, I didn't manage to capture any of them so- obviously they are very skilled." He cleared his throat, stretching away from the chiefs glowering face. "She's alive, sir. They all are, last I heard."

Slowly, the chief released his hold, and Bato grabbed his arm to steady him.

"Wait- did you say she was traveling with the AVATAR?"

Zuko bore that confused look again, though this time he was obviously defensive at Hakodas incredulous tone.

"Yes, has been for months." He informed them. "How could you not know?"

---

"He tried to kill me." He spoke bluntly, then a scornful laugh ripped from his chest. "It's not even the first time."

---

Zuko zipped down the ropes from the mast, wincing as he landed on the deck. Hakoda's heart jumped in his throat as he became a blur flying towards the ground, but he walked away perfectly fine.

Ignoring the crews questions and exclamations, Zuko stalked past them towards the cabins wall and ran towards it, his right shoulder facing it. When he made impact, there was a deafening CRACK. When he turned back to them and massage this shoulder with a tight scowl, the healer jumped forward.

"Did you just reset your shoulder??"

Zuko looked up, nose scrunched.

"It was out of its socket." He spoke as if it was plain as day.

"Why the hell would you fix it like that?" He demanded. Zuko looked back, confusion seeping into his pained expression.

"Well you didn't have to, and I've done it plenty of times."

What. The. Fuck.

---

"keep your hands off me, peasant."

"This peasant kept you alive."

"Then you should have let me die like Agni intended."

Oh, how this hurt Agni.

---

Zuko was given a bucket and tag with cold water. With the guards turned, he warmed the water until it was steaming.

Luckily he hadn't taken his pants off when one of the guards turned around with a glare.

"Why is it so hot-"

His eyes widened, watching the steam rise in the air.

Zuko glared back.

"I'm not risking hyperthermia."

---

His heel latched onto the beat immediately, keeping in time with the drums.

---

Not many were familiar with the Fire Nation royal family, unless you were of the royal court, in the capital, or an Earth Kingdom noble.

---

A Fire Nation Hawk is shot down by Hakoda ship. Zuko rushes forward once the message is unraveled from its claws. The bird tries to snip, bite and claw at everyone, but once Zuko gets a hold of it and holds it right, and with his fire ending warmth, the hawk is reluctant, and still squirmy.

"Don't kill it!" He demanded.

"It's for the best kid. It was shot, we'd be putting it out of its misery."

"But I can help it! I've done it before, it's not that hard, it'll be okay!" He insisted, holding the hawk close.

Everyone looked to the healer, who sucked on his teeth before sighing, nodding slowly. Zuko was immediately running towards the stairs, steps silent and somehow not jostling the bird further.

"Just don't use the good stuff!" He called out.

The bird was fluttering about within the week, alive and healing quick. It was a she, and her name was (name).

She was every bit a hawk fit for the temper of the Fire Prince.

---

(Name) Was so busy yelling at Zuko that he didn't notice the hairs on his neck stand up, or the electricity sing in the air. But Zuko noticed. He felt his skin prickle and ozone fill the air. He shoved (name) down and brought his hands up, shuddering as lightning ran through every nerve in his body, and crack right back through the clouds, his skin steaming black smoke as he fell right beside (name) who had his arms thrown over his head in shock.

He stared at the unconscious prince, unable to think of anything other than the sight of the boy's skin shining blue with lightning under his skin.

Saving him.

---

Zuko woke mostly delirious and with open wounds, so he did the only logical thing a completely sane and normal person would do.

He lit his hand on fire and burned the closest ones closed, stopping when he hears footsteps outside of the unfamiliar, wooden room that swayed side to side. He jumped to his wobbly feet and scanned the room, eyes catching on the port hole he could easily reach if he stood in the chest beneath it.

The healer opened the door to an empty room breaking of burnt flesh and fresh sunlight streaming in.

---

One of the tribesmen threw a snowball at Zuko, hitting him in the back of the head. Steam rose, the ice melting down the back of his shirt as he turned slowly, eyes dangerously lit.

"Run (name)!" (Name) Called, to which he was heeded.

Zuko chased them, struggling to make his own snowballs with hot, inexperienced hands.

So he waited, biding his time until he could dump a gallon of water over (name) bright and early.

---

The crew will tug at the princes ponytail when he's passing or being too much of a brat.

---

"How can you tell the difference? Between the good ones and the bad ones? How do you know who is at fault?"

"The ones that hurt you, the ones that cause deliberate harm with intention and drive, the ones that wash their hand in blood every day? Those are the ones who are wrong. Those are the ones that we must stop."

---

Zuko falls overboard but manages to climb up the ship by small seams and holds.

---

The South Pole has bath houses. Zuko isn't shy because of his time on a ship so he's excited when he feels the heat of the room, stripping down quickly before sinking into the burning water.

---

"An honorable soldier would rather kill themselves than be captured by the enemy."

"Then why haven't you?"

"...because I have no honor left." Zuko locked his jaw and stared at the floor, his eyes starting to look glassy, far away. "I'm a coward."

---

Zuko scoffed, crossing his arms.

"I'm a horrible firebender."

The crew stared at him.

"You redirected lightning, kid." Zuko flushed.

"I saw Uncle do it once. HE didn't feint."

"You're uncle, the dragon of the West? And you didn't feint, you were forced unconscious." He rolled his eyes.

"Whatever." Zuko mumbled. That night, watching Zuko do his katas, Hakoda shook his head and scoffed.

"Horrible firebender my ass."

---

Amaqjuaq - the strong one (angry, big, little sister died (was a waterbender)

Katjuk - arrow (cool, level headed. Suspect but factual)

Siku - ice (fierce warrior, usually sides with Ama)

Tonraq - tiny man (the youngest)

Tiqriganiannig - Arctic fox (Tiq for short) (cook, the one that gets food supplies)

Toklo - spontanious (only a bit older than Tonraq)