Lucyfer
Said you'd die for me, well -- there's the ground
Zuko’s hair was lost.
His title was lost.
Even his name was lost as he donned the apron and pretended to be a refuge of the war with a burn scar from an encounter, just another Lee, a name as common in the Earth Kingdom as it was in the Fire.
He couldn’t help but think of Ty Lee, someone who had been so full of energy and joy, yet had somehow ended up a friend of Azula. He sighed with the thought of Azula touching his mind as he tied the green apron around him at the waist. He hadn’t stopped feeling stupid for almost trusting her.
It always happened.
She was always tricking him.
And now he truly knew there was no going back. He had to stay here in Ba Sing Se, the town that took his nephew from him, and do…nothing.
Nothing, except serve tea.
“Lee!” Iroh called him over, “I have tea for the table with the two gentlemen playing pai sho,” and so, Zuko’s day began, taking the tea prepared by Iroh to the various patrons of the café, making awkward small talk, collecting orders, and collecting the money. Iroh wasn’t really letting him make tea; he was teaching Zuko, slowly, but Zuko didn’t have an understanding of it.
Zuko just knew it tasted better when Iroh made it, and try as he might to replicate it, he was missing the talent – or, as Iroh put it – the gratitude and appreciation to understand how to harmonize so many different elements.
Which was true.
He didn’t really understand how Iroh harmonized tea leaves, flowers, fruits, and herbs to make so many different blends. He didn’t get the nuance. He was starting to think it was important, or at least, not an entire waste of time, the longer he was in Ba Sing Se, and watched how people from discordant backgrounds were forced to blend.
It seemed like it would be good to know for a future, where he actually did something.
A future where people gave him more than a sympathetic look for his burn scar. Here in Ba Sing Se, no one asked about it – but he felt their eyes on it all the same. It was, perhaps, the one saving grace for him and Iroh. Burned as he was, no one was going to assume they were with the Fire Nation.
He still despised the looks, and was grateful when it came time to close up, and he could take the apron off and avoid all those looks he was getting. “Nephew, I need you to pick up something while I finish closing up,” Iroh said, handing him a folded bit of paper. “Take this to Caihong in the Earthmarket; I need these tapioca.”
“Ugh. Fine.” Zuko took the bit of paper, “Are they already paid for?”
“Yes, Quon paid for them, they’re for the shop.”
“All right, I’ll be back soon,” he was honestly glad to be getting out of cleaning up, and glad to be getting out in general. He wasn’t exactly comfortable with it, but he was becoming more so as it seemed people really didn’t recognize him.
It was still late when he reached the middle ring, and the market that was starting to close up. ‘I don’t know who Caihong is….’ The realization he should have asked for more details struck him, but he stopped at a stall with someone, “Excuse me?”
“Beat it kid, I’m closing up.”
“I see that. I’m looking for Caihong, I’m picking up a package for the Jasmine Dragon.” He said, and the man sighed, then pointed down.
“Down a bit that ways, Caihong’s at the Tap Room.”
Zuko nodded, turned, then bit down on the inside of his cheek as he realized he was about to just walk off without saying anything nice, “Thanks,” he managed, before heading down and finding a building, not a mere stall, called ‘Tap Room’. He could see an assortment of treats and baked goods within, which made him wonder at how tapioca was involved, but he wouldn’t ask.
He walked in, thankful the door was still opened, “Caihong? It’s Lee, from the Jasmine Dragon – I’m here for a package that Quon ordered.”
Caihong, an older woman with a bob haircut, popped her head out from a back room. “Oh! Just a minute.”
He waited, a bit impatiently, but she returned with the package, “Here you are,” it was a bit weighty, but Zuko took the package, surprised at the weight of the tapioca. “Started to think no one would show.”
“Sorry,” he said, “we got a bit busy,” they got busier every day as Iroh’s reputation rose. “Thanks. I’ll be on my way,” and he did leave with that, making his way back, glancing around the market he knew he ought to explore more, if only to try some new things.
He just…didn’t.
His inclination to head out this way decreased when someone called out, “Hey! Aren’t you the firebender who attacked Jet?”
‘Jet? What?’ He wasn’t, at least, Lee wasn’t, so he ignored them until he heard the stamp of a foot, and then the ground gave out underneath his feet.
He was agile on them and managed to jump as the dent in the ground formed, only to spin around and glare at whoever Jet’s newest defender was. “You shouldn’t damage the road. Someone could trip tomorrow,” Zuko said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, either. In case you didn’t notice, I have a burn,” he pointed at his face, as if that would be the damning evidence he couldn’t be a firebender.
He knew it wouldn’t, but he hadn’t exactly brought his sword with him to the market.
~***~
“My daughter, Azula, has run off to hunt down my son and brother on her own. I understand from Lo and Li she is gathering her own elite,” the contention that Fire Lord Ozai had with that word was obvious, “strike force to seek them out. These include friends,” the word rolled as if it were the true term elite should have been, “Ty Lee and Mai, neither of them are firebenders. You are to join her. I anticipate she will head to Omashu to gather Mai, you will meet her there and join.”
Miora had never met Azula, nor Zuko, for that matter. However, the two royal children were often the talk of the Fire Nation – Zuko for his banishment, Azula for her prodigal talents. Apparently, she only used blue fire now.
Another firebender didn’t seem entirely necessary to deal with Zuko, but Iroh was another story. He was famed for practicing firebending arts not exactly typical, and was known to have killed a dragon. He could be a worthy opponent, even for Azula.
Certainly for herself.
So, Miora did not argue the others – not that she would. She inclined her head and took a knee, “As you command, Fire Lord.” With any luck, she’d be ahead of Azula, and waiting for her in Omashu.
That was days ago.
Miora didn’t have the luck to be ahead of Azula despite borrowing an eel hound from one of the Fire Nation outposts in the Earth Kingdom to help her speed ahead to Omashu.
The First Lieutenant of the Fire Nation Army arrived after Azula, and after the Avatar himself had gone through Omashu like a whirlwind and freed the former king Bumi, among others of the earthbending nation, with a fake disease. The talk was all over the streets of New Ozai, as dubbed by Azula, as Miora stabled the eel hound she’d started to call Abaya. The one who let her borrow it hadn’t suggested it had any name.
Just another beast of burden in the war, like herself. Hardly worth more than a title.
The sealed letter from Ozai was all she needed to show to the palace guards at Omashu to be granted entrance, though she was directed to wait in the entrance hall. She stood at ease, her weapon not taken from her, and casually looked over the structure of the Fire Nation palace. There was nothing terribly interesting about it, of course, but she had little else to do as she simply waited until not Azula, but governor Ukano came forward.
His dark hair was starting to gray, and he looked tired, to say the least. Ragged.
The events had clearly taken their toll on him. “Forgive me for keeping you waiting, Lieutenant. I was not told to expect you – however can I help?”
“I am not here to see you, Governor,” Miora answered, her voice polite, but quiet, for one who held the rank of First Lieutenant, “I am here for Princess Azula. Does she remain a guest in your home?”
“She does. I can take that letter to her…,” he held out his hand, but Miora shook her head.
“I need to deliver it myself,” Miora said, “please tell Princess Azula that a letter from her father has arrived, and I will wait on her pleasure wherever you will have me.”
“Ah, of course – Lae, take Miora to, uh, the lounge, I will let Princess Azula know. I am sure she will not keep you waiting long, her father must be glad to know she’s christened this city with a name more…befitting our nation.”
“Mmm.” Miora didn’t know, and didn’t care. Ozai hadn’t known about it when he sent Miora here.
She was led to a lounge room that looked like it could indeed host a pleasant tea break, or a serious meeting. Lae left her without supervision, and so she took the naginata off her back and laid it down on the couch in the room to approach the numerous tomes upon the shelves, looking for anything of interest to waste time until Azula deigned it appropriate not to keep her father’s messenger waiting.
Miora could be patient.
She took a book entitled the Pearls of Laghima and took a seat on the couch by her naginata to read it.
His title was lost.
Even his name was lost as he donned the apron and pretended to be a refuge of the war with a burn scar from an encounter, just another Lee, a name as common in the Earth Kingdom as it was in the Fire.
He couldn’t help but think of Ty Lee, someone who had been so full of energy and joy, yet had somehow ended up a friend of Azula. He sighed with the thought of Azula touching his mind as he tied the green apron around him at the waist. He hadn’t stopped feeling stupid for almost trusting her.
It always happened.
She was always tricking him.
And now he truly knew there was no going back. He had to stay here in Ba Sing Se, the town that took his nephew from him, and do…nothing.
Nothing, except serve tea.
“Lee!” Iroh called him over, “I have tea for the table with the two gentlemen playing pai sho,” and so, Zuko’s day began, taking the tea prepared by Iroh to the various patrons of the café, making awkward small talk, collecting orders, and collecting the money. Iroh wasn’t really letting him make tea; he was teaching Zuko, slowly, but Zuko didn’t have an understanding of it.
Zuko just knew it tasted better when Iroh made it, and try as he might to replicate it, he was missing the talent – or, as Iroh put it – the gratitude and appreciation to understand how to harmonize so many different elements.
Which was true.
He didn’t really understand how Iroh harmonized tea leaves, flowers, fruits, and herbs to make so many different blends. He didn’t get the nuance. He was starting to think it was important, or at least, not an entire waste of time, the longer he was in Ba Sing Se, and watched how people from discordant backgrounds were forced to blend.
It seemed like it would be good to know for a future, where he actually did something.
A future where people gave him more than a sympathetic look for his burn scar. Here in Ba Sing Se, no one asked about it – but he felt their eyes on it all the same. It was, perhaps, the one saving grace for him and Iroh. Burned as he was, no one was going to assume they were with the Fire Nation.
He still despised the looks, and was grateful when it came time to close up, and he could take the apron off and avoid all those looks he was getting. “Nephew, I need you to pick up something while I finish closing up,” Iroh said, handing him a folded bit of paper. “Take this to Caihong in the Earthmarket; I need these tapioca.”
“Ugh. Fine.” Zuko took the bit of paper, “Are they already paid for?”
“Yes, Quon paid for them, they’re for the shop.”
“All right, I’ll be back soon,” he was honestly glad to be getting out of cleaning up, and glad to be getting out in general. He wasn’t exactly comfortable with it, but he was becoming more so as it seemed people really didn’t recognize him.
It was still late when he reached the middle ring, and the market that was starting to close up. ‘I don’t know who Caihong is….’ The realization he should have asked for more details struck him, but he stopped at a stall with someone, “Excuse me?”
“Beat it kid, I’m closing up.”
“I see that. I’m looking for Caihong, I’m picking up a package for the Jasmine Dragon.” He said, and the man sighed, then pointed down.
“Down a bit that ways, Caihong’s at the Tap Room.”
Zuko nodded, turned, then bit down on the inside of his cheek as he realized he was about to just walk off without saying anything nice, “Thanks,” he managed, before heading down and finding a building, not a mere stall, called ‘Tap Room’. He could see an assortment of treats and baked goods within, which made him wonder at how tapioca was involved, but he wouldn’t ask.
He walked in, thankful the door was still opened, “Caihong? It’s Lee, from the Jasmine Dragon – I’m here for a package that Quon ordered.”
Caihong, an older woman with a bob haircut, popped her head out from a back room. “Oh! Just a minute.”
He waited, a bit impatiently, but she returned with the package, “Here you are,” it was a bit weighty, but Zuko took the package, surprised at the weight of the tapioca. “Started to think no one would show.”
“Sorry,” he said, “we got a bit busy,” they got busier every day as Iroh’s reputation rose. “Thanks. I’ll be on my way,” and he did leave with that, making his way back, glancing around the market he knew he ought to explore more, if only to try some new things.
He just…didn’t.
His inclination to head out this way decreased when someone called out, “Hey! Aren’t you the firebender who attacked Jet?”
‘Jet? What?’ He wasn’t, at least, Lee wasn’t, so he ignored them until he heard the stamp of a foot, and then the ground gave out underneath his feet.
He was agile on them and managed to jump as the dent in the ground formed, only to spin around and glare at whoever Jet’s newest defender was. “You shouldn’t damage the road. Someone could trip tomorrow,” Zuko said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, either. In case you didn’t notice, I have a burn,” he pointed at his face, as if that would be the damning evidence he couldn’t be a firebender.
He knew it wouldn’t, but he hadn’t exactly brought his sword with him to the market.
~***~
“My daughter, Azula, has run off to hunt down my son and brother on her own. I understand from Lo and Li she is gathering her own elite,” the contention that Fire Lord Ozai had with that word was obvious, “strike force to seek them out. These include friends,” the word rolled as if it were the true term elite should have been, “Ty Lee and Mai, neither of them are firebenders. You are to join her. I anticipate she will head to Omashu to gather Mai, you will meet her there and join.”
Miora had never met Azula, nor Zuko, for that matter. However, the two royal children were often the talk of the Fire Nation – Zuko for his banishment, Azula for her prodigal talents. Apparently, she only used blue fire now.
Another firebender didn’t seem entirely necessary to deal with Zuko, but Iroh was another story. He was famed for practicing firebending arts not exactly typical, and was known to have killed a dragon. He could be a worthy opponent, even for Azula.
Certainly for herself.
So, Miora did not argue the others – not that she would. She inclined her head and took a knee, “As you command, Fire Lord.” With any luck, she’d be ahead of Azula, and waiting for her in Omashu.
That was days ago.
Miora didn’t have the luck to be ahead of Azula despite borrowing an eel hound from one of the Fire Nation outposts in the Earth Kingdom to help her speed ahead to Omashu.
The First Lieutenant of the Fire Nation Army arrived after Azula, and after the Avatar himself had gone through Omashu like a whirlwind and freed the former king Bumi, among others of the earthbending nation, with a fake disease. The talk was all over the streets of New Ozai, as dubbed by Azula, as Miora stabled the eel hound she’d started to call Abaya. The one who let her borrow it hadn’t suggested it had any name.
Just another beast of burden in the war, like herself. Hardly worth more than a title.
The sealed letter from Ozai was all she needed to show to the palace guards at Omashu to be granted entrance, though she was directed to wait in the entrance hall. She stood at ease, her weapon not taken from her, and casually looked over the structure of the Fire Nation palace. There was nothing terribly interesting about it, of course, but she had little else to do as she simply waited until not Azula, but governor Ukano came forward.
His dark hair was starting to gray, and he looked tired, to say the least. Ragged.
The events had clearly taken their toll on him. “Forgive me for keeping you waiting, Lieutenant. I was not told to expect you – however can I help?”
“I am not here to see you, Governor,” Miora answered, her voice polite, but quiet, for one who held the rank of First Lieutenant, “I am here for Princess Azula. Does she remain a guest in your home?”
“She does. I can take that letter to her…,” he held out his hand, but Miora shook her head.
“I need to deliver it myself,” Miora said, “please tell Princess Azula that a letter from her father has arrived, and I will wait on her pleasure wherever you will have me.”
“Ah, of course – Lae, take Miora to, uh, the lounge, I will let Princess Azula know. I am sure she will not keep you waiting long, her father must be glad to know she’s christened this city with a name more…befitting our nation.”
“Mmm.” Miora didn’t know, and didn’t care. Ozai hadn’t known about it when he sent Miora here.
She was led to a lounge room that looked like it could indeed host a pleasant tea break, or a serious meeting. Lae left her without supervision, and so she took the naginata off her back and laid it down on the couch in the room to approach the numerous tomes upon the shelves, looking for anything of interest to waste time until Azula deigned it appropriate not to keep her father’s messenger waiting.
Miora could be patient.
She took a book entitled the Pearls of Laghima and took a seat on the couch by her naginata to read it.
