Zuko x Reader: Love Burns (REVAMPED)

Chapter Eight: Bato of the Watertribe

Zuko held out his hand, offering to help me up after he had knocked me down, winning our sparring match. 

I glared at him, but took his hand, and he hoisted me up onto my feet. 

"I win again, (Y/N)."

"Whatever," I rolled my eyes, dusting myself off, "One day, you won't stand a chance."

He laughed, "Oh, really?"

"Yes," I dropped back into a fighting stance, "Now, let's do it again," I said, smiling.

He smiled back, "Gladly."

"Hey, look," Aang called out, holding up a sword, "A sword made out of a whale's tooth."

This peaked Sokka's attention, as he walked over to Aang and snatched the weapon from him, "Let me see that," he examined it for a moment, "This is a Water Tribe weapon," he turned to Aang and I, his expression the most serious I had ever seen it, "See if you can find anything else."

The three of us starting searching the ground, trees, bushes for something that pointed to the Water Tribe.

Katara approached us, confused, "Did someone lose something?"

"My honor," I muttered under my breath, giggling to myself. The joke went unnoticed, but I find myself awfully amusing.

"No," Aang exclaimed cheerfully, "We found something!"

Sokka picked up a burned spearhead, "It's burned," he noted, looking around, "There was a battle! Water Tribe warriors ambushed a group of firebenders," he started walking down a hill, and we all followed, "The firebenders fought back, but the warriors drove them down this hill."

We walked down the hill to reveal a sandy beach. Whatever trail Sokka was following went cold. 

"So, then what happened?" Aang asked, intrigued. 

"I don't know," Sokka's voice oozed with disappointment, "The trail ends here."

I looked around and spotted a boat by the water. I pointed to it, "Is that helpful?"

Sokka looked excited, "It's one of our boats!"

We all ran to the boat. 

"Is it dad's boat?" Katara asked.

"No, but it's from his fleet," Sokka responded, "Dad was here."

***

Katara and Aang were asleep, while Sokka and I sat up by the fire, wide awake. We both seemed to be deep in thought. 

When everyone was asleep was when I did most of my thinking. When it was quiet, and the only thing I could hear was my own internal monologue. 

And that was why I didn't do much sleeping. 

My father and I had this thing where every time I called out asking for him, he would respond with: "Right here, little turtleduck."

He had said that to me every time I stepped foot in our home after being gone for some time.

"Don't call me that," I would always complain, seething about how much I hated it. But, he wouldn't stop, and maybe I didn't hate it as much as I said I did.

My mother, upon my arrival back to the house, whether I was gone for thirty seconds, or an hour, would always run to me when she realized I was back and pretended to scold me for being gone too long.

"I can't be away from you for too long," she would say, ruffling my hair, "I get lonely."

"Mom!" I would reply, running, "Stop it!"