Birthrights and Bastards (ZukoXOC)

Prologue

"Who knocks at the garden gate?" a male voice asked, but she could already hear the lock sliding back.

Pitch blackness obscured the door, there wasn't even a sliver of the moon to guide her. She gathered her cloak around her as she responded.

"One who has eaten the fruit and tasted its mysteries."

The door creaked open before she had even finished. Slipping inside, she latched it behind her as the man watched. She could sense his anxiety.

"I came as fast as I could," she said. His letter was still folded up, securely placed in her pocket. Her fingers traced across it as he stood, stoic.

"This way."

The corridors were damp, cold, and hopelessly dark. The fire burning in the man's hand was the only form of light in the tunnel, and she couldn't help drawing the cloak even tighter around her.

The minutes dragged on. The man's strides grew longer by the second. One of her hands found the waterskin tied at her waist, and the other grazed across the vial around her neck. It was a precaution, more for her safety than anything else. There was no way she would need it to take care of... this. He was incredibly lucky his letter caught her at the last port of call before she returned home, or it would have been more precious hours, even days before she could arrive. His anxiety was so tangible, she could feel it creeping in the corners of her own mind. Alas, formalities were in order first.

"How much time has passed?" she asked, her voice bouncing off the metal walls. It unnerved her, ever so slightly.

"Three days. I convinced him to wait one, to allow time for his... honored guests to arrive. I sent the letter as soon as he made his intentions clear."

"Three... La's fins... The wound won't get much worse at least. I left a little over a day ago, if only I had known sooner," she said, her limbs still aching from the journey.

"Your effort is appreciated, but I fear your greatest undertaking is yet to begin," he said.

"I'm sorry. About your son. I know it's not easy," she said, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. He faltered, but only for a moment.

"He is all I have left. I would trust no one else with his life," he said.

The flame extinguished itself as he pressed his hands to a metal door hidden in the wall. She threw her shoulder against it as well, and it scraped open.

"You must forgive the accommodations, but I couldn't let you be seen. I fear that between us we've already had enough tragedy for several lifetimes."

"You're right, we don't need to add a prison break," she said, hoping he might smile, even just a little bit. He did not.

Warm light flooded in, and it took a minute for her vision to adjust. It looked like a repurposed store room. Barrels lined the walls. A bed sat in the center of the room, and several jugs had been pulled next to it. It was a waterbenders dream. A small boy lay underneath the blankets, but only bandages and tufts of hair were visible. Her heart sank.

The man closed the door behind them, and with the now abundant light she could see him clearly for the first time in... she didn't even know how long. Worry lines creased his face, more than she had expected. Black bags hung under his eyes, and she was certain he had not slept since... Well since he had sent her that letter. His hair had finally turned a solid shade of gray, but it wasn't nearly bright enough to rival her own. She wound up the silver strands, pinning them in place with a gift almost as old as she was. It was not often she got to wear it, but she took pride in it when she could. The words painted on the inside of the hairpiece had long since faded, but she had learned them by heart far before they had.