124Disclaimer – I do not own Avatar: the last Airbender.
This is a story that I had just sitting on my computer for a while and I thought that I might as well post it.
There will not be regular updates as this is not the main story that I am working on.
Thank you for the support.
Summary: He can make the fire move, but he can not move the fire. He can make himself smile and he can live among them, but he knows this will never be his home.
Pretending
Chapter 1
Air
Fire is the superior element. It is the greatest and most powerful of them all, the only one worthy to rule.
And yet, no matter how much he tried, Zuko could not do it. He could not create fire.
Anger coursed through Zuko as, for the twentieth time, he punched forward, copying the fire bending form exactly. And, once again, he failed to produce any of the glowing tongues of flames that the other firebenders could. It was a simple move, usually taught to young children when the first show signs of fire.
Punch and send your Chi through your fist. If you are a firebender, you'll get flames, if your not, then you don't. Simple.
This simple fact is why Zuko feels like his stomach is filled with ice. He can see his tutors shaking their heads every time that he tries and fails, over and over again. Their encouraging words are empty and if it wasn't for the fact that he was the Fire Lord's grandson they would have already said that he was not a bender.
The Fire Lord's line, however, did not produce non-benders, it was unacceptable.
So he kept trying. Day after day, month after month Zuko practiced. His forms were perfect, he was light on his feet, his eyes blazed with just the right amount of anger. The only thing missing . . . was the fire. And so, day after day, when he turned to his tutors and saw the accusation in their eyes he paid no attention to them. They did not matter to him, and their disappointment only meant another day that his father sneered at him.
Everything changed, though, when Zuko turned seven. Azula, his four year old sister, had already proven that she was a Fire Nation prodigy, and Zuko could see that their father favored her more than him.
It was late at night, when most of the castle had gone to bed, that it happened. Like every other night, Zuko had grown frustrated with his lack of bending and with a growl of defeat he sat down on the floor and curled his knees to his chest. Slowly tears leaked out of the corners of his eyes and he did not try to hold them back.
Why can't I do it? What is so different about me? Am I really weak, like father says?
The thoughts left a heavy weight on him. If he could not bend . . . then it was likely that he would never live to see his eighteenth birthday. His father could be ruthless when he wanted to be, and with Zuko he had no time to waist. His father would rather kill the weakling then let disgrace fall upon him.
Zuko shivered slightly, holding back the sobs in his throat, as he tried to clear his mind. Maybe if he meditated he could figure out what was wrong with him. Uncle Iroh was always meditating and he was one of the most powerful firebenders in their day.
Eyes closed, Zuko evened out his breathing. He forced the depressing thoughts from his head and focused on everything around him. Slowly, he became aware of a faint buzzing as he sank deeper into meditation. He could almost feel something around him, like a blanket but thicker.
Without really thinking about it he reached out mentally and grabbed what ever it was. To his surprise, what ever it was moved, and Zuko's eyes few open as he lost concentration. Whatever it was receded again, but now that he was aware of it he could still feel it. It was just like the instructors said fire should feel.
But, instinctively, he knew that this was not fire.
Zuko's heartbeat quickened as it danced around him, but he knew that no matter how good it felt to be connected with it he could not use it. It was not fire and his father would accept nothing less than above perfect from a prince. He was about to let it go again when he suddenly felt something different. Something was in it. It was warm and ferocious and it ate.
Zuko spun around and his eyes landed on the candle on his bedside table, where it was coming from, and suddenly he knows.
It is not fire that he is feeling.
It's air.
0~o~0
Zuko sucked in a deep breath and spun, kicking his leg out in an imitation of a Fire Kick. He is unsurprised when it does not work. His element it air, though he will never be able to tell anyone, else he be killed. Sadly, it was better to be a non-bender than an airbender.
There were no airbenders left, and it was because the Fire Nation had destroyed them.
He knew that his tutor was behind him, silently observing but not saying any thing. Zuko closed his eyes and preformed several more forms, perfectly and fluidly, but still missing the key element that he knew would never be there for him.
Suddenly he felt something speeding towards him, and he recognizes it immediately. Fire.
Zuko spun around, his eyes flying open as he registered the large fireball accelerating toward his face. It was too large to dodge from such a close distance and his breath lodged in his throat, horror filling him. If he did not reflect it, he would be burned.
Instinctively, he reached out to the air around him and searched through it until he reached the hole where the flame is. The fire eats the air as it moved and everything seemed to slow down for Zuko as the bright ball got closer. He felt something flow through him and clapped his hands in front of him. The air obeyed and like a blade cut the air in half, directing it to either side of him. The flames fed on the air, depleting it, but he just added more, keeping it in place as he searched for the one who attacked him, an angry reprimand on his lips and ready to send the fireballs back at whoever made them.
The words died on his tongue when he found them.
His father regarded him with cold indifference, looking down at him with an upturned nose.
"So you are a firebender after all," his fathers eyes are sharp, demanding, "Don't disappoint me again."
Zuko watched as his father left, not taking his eyes from the retreating form until it had disappeared from sight. His stomach rolled and he felt sick as he realized what had just happened.
His own father had tried to kill him, and he would have succeeded.
Zuko knew that he was not a firebender, he had known it for a while now. Fire was not his to command. He could make the fire move, but he could not move the fire.
The two fireballs died out as Zuko stopped feeding them, and he felt his heart sink.
He was not a true firebender, but he could fake it.
His life depended on it.
Hidden in his rooms Zuko concentrated. He had to do better. Now that his father thought that he was a firebender he had to show improvement.
He has to be about to create fire. Not just move it.
Zuko closed his eyes and silently searched for imperfections in the air, something that might help him. They are there, but too tiny to see with his eyes. They feel like fire, but they do not eat like fire does.
Desperately he reached out and mentally grasped those particles. Concentrating, Zuko hit all of them together with great force, and there was a spark. It was not big enough for anyone else to see, but it was there. He fed the spark until it grew into a small flame.
Relieved, he smiled.
0~o~0
"Never forget who you are."
He was Prince Zuko, crown prince of the Fire Nation. He was the older brother of Azula, the prodigy. He was the only son of Fire Lord Ozai and the vanished Princess Ursa.
He was a liar.
Zuko knew that he was not a firebender. He could act like one, he could seem to bend like one, but he knew without a doubt that he was not one. He feared the day they would discover his secret, what he really is. His fire was always too weak or too strong. If it was too strong then he can not keep it contained and it went out of control, something most firebenders would never do unless they were extremely angry.
It was better to be seen as a weak bender then to be thought of as dangerous, though.
His mother had loved him. She had been the only one besides his uncle who had ever believed in him, but he never told her his secret. He would never be able to.
She was gone.
0~o~0
The darkly dressed figure was nearly impossible to see against the shadows of the night. His hair blew back from his face and his golden eyes watched as the night guards changed below him. Zuko knew that they would never look up, they never did.
Zuko closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, enjoying the freshness of the air from so high up. He leaned into the wind, one hand gripping the pole that jutted out from the tallest part of the roof to keep himself from slipping. This was one of the only paces that he could go to be alone, and to feel safe.
No one else ever dared to come up there. It was too steep, too dangerous, and too windy. If anyone else were to clime up, they would die.
If they were anyone but him they would fall to their deaths. The wind embraced him, though. It helped him balance, kept him from falling. It laughed with him. It was playful. It was his element, and it was only when he was here, in the air, that he felt safe.
He was an airbender, after all.
And if anyone found out he would be dead.
So he had continued to play firebender, improving his improvised airbending as he went. His acting improved as well, and not even Azula could tell what he was thinking now. He smiled when he was among other firebenders, he lived among then. They never suspected anything other then that he was a weak bender.
He went to their festivities, wore their masks. He practiced firebending like any other child with the ability.
But in secret, when no one was there to watch, at the darkest part of the night, perched above the palace like a black bird of prey, be practiced another kind of bending. The art of air was hard to learn with no master to teach him. What he learned was on accident and from experimenting with what he had.
His Dual Dao swords were another development that had come after his mother had disappeared. His father had sent him away for a while to learn how to use a sword from the sword master Piandao. Though Zuko had no doubt his father had hidden motives for letting his son leave for several months it was still advantageous as it would help him survive if he was ever forced to leave. He had also learned how to channel his bending along the blades to send out powerful bursts of air. It was a surprise attack that not many would suspect.
It was in the sky that he felt at home, though. He wore a mask to hide his identity, so that even if he was seen by one of the many guards, they would not know who he was.
He could walk among the people of Fire, talk with them, and live in their homes of metal and wood.
But he would never be one of them.
0~o~0
"You shall learn respect, and suffering will be your teacher,"
He was banished. They didn't want him. His father didn't want him.
His own father had burned him.
He didn't belong. He had never belonged. He knew that he should have left years ago. It had been a futile attempt to try and gain acceptance from his remaining family. There was nothing left for him here.
Tears slipped down Zuko's one good eye as he gathered his things with shaky hands. His other eye was bandaged tightly where the burn was, and he was worried that he might never regain his full sight in that eye.
The healers had not come to check on him yet, but he already knew what they were going to say. His father had never liked him and this was the perfect opportunity for him to get rid of his unwanted son. No matter what, he did not want to hear it from someone else's mouths.
In the dead of night, dressed all in black with a blue mask over his face, Zuko slipped into the nigh, two swords strapped over his back and pack of belongings hanging from his shoulder. His steps were silent as a ghost and no one noticed him leaving. He made it all the way to the docks without being seen and hid on a ship bound for an Earth Kingdom trading post. Nothing stirred in the palace after he left. No one would know of his departure until the sun rose the next morning.
When his uncle came to get him after securing a ship for them to use, he would find his nephew's room empty and his most treasured possessions gone, just like the boy himself, had vanished.
0~o~0
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