For the Want of the Sun • Zuko

chapter 14: somewhere only we know

I wake up early, as I have the last couple of days, when the sun has barely peaked out from the horizon. Iroh is asleep across from me, snores escaping him in deep rumbles, shaded by the makeshift tent we put together, and birdsong sounds from outside.

It's been more than a week since Zuko left, and Iroh insists on following him. Tracking him, he says. Just to make sure he's safe.

It's all Iroh's idea, obviously. Zuko can end up in a ditch for all I care. That's a new thing I'm practicing: not caring. It's more difficult than I thought it would be. But, really, why should I care about people who don't care about me? Why should I waste my time worrying about a boy who left me without a second thought? Zuko's present absence is just another chapter in the story, one where I've been left behind before, again and again. He doesn't care - that much is obvious. So I won't either.

I haven't been sleeping lately. I would if I could, but my dreams have been keeping me awake. They're not nightmares, exactly, but they're not necessarily enjoyable. They're memories, most of them. In my sleep I see faces: Zuko, Azula, my mother. I try to speak to them but no words come out, and they walk right through me. I try to chase them but I can't move, and they disappear.

I climb out of bed, pulling back the tent flap and stepping outside. We're camped by a stream, the first fingerlings of sun glistening along the waves. The chill of early morning wraps around me like a blanket and I shiver. Above me birds fly in circles, bringing worms to their nests, chirping to their babies. It's a tinkling melody, like the chandeliers at the Fire Lord's palace. I follow the sound down to the water.

I sit down beside it, not caring that the dusty ground is damp and is sure to stick to my clothes. I pull back the sleeve of my tunic, revealing the twisting crimson scar. I trace it with my finger and wince. It's been months since the North Pole, and the scar doesn't hurt anymore, but sometimes I can still feel a ghost of flame on my skin. Iroh's made sure to keep it clean, to keep it from getting infected, so it's healed nicely. The skin raises in angry stripes, swirling down to my wrist.

I reach out to touch the running water, and it's cold. I can smell the earth around me: hearty and wild, and I close my eyes. I allow my mind to take me somewhere, anywhere it wants. The rushing of the creek, the scent of the land fill me, and I drift into a memory.

"Ahhh! Let me go!"

Childish shrieks fill the air, my chest tight with laughter. I feel arms around me, warm and strong, and I'm lifted into the air. I scream. "No!"

"Got you." A warm chuckle, a voice like velvet. I'm pulled down, pressed firmly against a soft body. Laughter rumbles from inside their chest. "You're hard to catch, little one."

I wiggle in their grasp, lifting my face to theirs. Small giggles escape me, and the sun is warm on my face. "That's not fair, Mama, you're faster!"

My mother smiles, ticking me with her fingers, and I shriek again. She laughs heartily, finally setting me down on the grass. "Well, then, you'll just have to run more quickly." She sits, her long dress spreading across the ground, her hair falling in curtains around her face. She reaches out a hand, ruffling my hair. She's beautiful - eyes glowing like honey in the sun and crinkled at the edges. Sunlight shines from behind her and trickles through her hair, dark and lovely as obsidian. She speaks, but I can't hear what she says. It's dull and muted, but I remember laughing. She directs her gaze outward and I follow it, the small stream dappled with sunlight, rising and weaving through the smoothed rocks.

The creek was outside the palace, a little ways off in the woods. She'd brought me to town that day to run errands, and had gifted me a visit, but only if I raced her there. I did, and she won, scooping me up as though I weighed nothing. We stayed there for about an hour; we couldn't stay too long or the palace workers would get suspicious. But we were there, and it was lovely. Above me, I could hear the tinkling of birdsong.