Chapter Text
Zuko always knew his father hated him.
It was obvious in everything he did.
It was obvious in the way he didn’t look at Zuko, head raised and haughty. It was obvious in the way his hand gripped Zuko’s wrist tight and hot enough to burn. It was obvious in the way he snapped and spat sparks at him, grabbing him by the hair.
It was obvious.
So Zuko really shouldn’t have been surprised. He should have expected this.
But Zuko’s heart was weak and traitorous, and loved his father. He was terrified of him, yes, but his fear didn’t cancel out his love.
It was his fault anyway… he was a terrible Prince. He was bad at firebending, he talked when he wasn’t supposed to, and he didn’t listen.
It was his fault…
“You will learn respect, and suffering will be your teacher.” His father said.
“I’m sorry, I love you!” Zuko wanted to scream, but the words stuck in his throat.
He should have expected this.
Ryōsuke was not expecting this.
Sure as a fire nation mercenary, you had to stay on your toes, and as a good fire nation mercenary, you had to never let your guard down and be ready for anything.
But even the best mercenary would be surprised by this.
The soldiers hurried him along the dark corridor, flanked by two Yuyan Archers. They were silent and menacing, and Ryōsuke had to stamp down a shiver.
Well, it had been a good run.
Only they didn’t lead him to a prison cell as he had expected, but a torchlit chamber, lined in fine gold and tapestries.
They shoved him as they entered and he let out an indignant, “Hey!”
But he froze when he saw the man in the room and dropped to his knees.
“F-Firelord Ozai- Your majesty,” he pressed his head to the carpet.
Shit, shit, shit. Agni-fuck, what had he done to get the attention of the Firelord??!! Yes he was well known, and his skill set was highly valued, but surely he wasn’t on the Firelords watchlist!
“Ryōsuke.” The Firelord’s voice was deep and menacing. His golden eyes sharp, and chin tilted high. He was the very image of a fearless leader.
Ryōsuke gulped, keeping his head down.
“I have heard of your… skills, master mercenary,” Ozai drawled, stalking around him like a wolf latched onto an elk, robes swishing around his feet, “And I have a task for you.”
Ryōsuke let out a relieved breath, oh thank the spirits.
“It would be an honor to serve you, your majesty,” he hurried to say.
“Good,” Ozai’s grin was sharp and wild, “I seem to have found myself in an unfortunate situation. It seems my fool of a son is too stubborn to die.” He said this flippantly, with an air of annoyance.
Ryōsuke frowned but remained silent.
“I want you to take him, somewhere far from here. His blood cannot be traced back to me, so make it somewhere remote. Make sure he doesn’t survive, and that no one will find him.” He waved his hand, “And if you tell anyone of this, I will have your head. Understood?”
Ryōsuke had a million questions. Kill the Prince? What in Agni’s name- the Prince was just a kid. He wasn’t above killing… but a kid?
But Ryōsuke wanted to keep his head, so he just nodded and bowed low.
“Of course, your majesty, I understand.”
“You will be provided a boat, and compensation.” Ozai nodded to the guard in a clear dismissal.
Ryōsuke left with a whirlwind of emotions, but Ozai’s own chest was still and calm.
This whole situation had been… frustrating for him.
His son, weak, pathetic, unfit to be Prince, much less the future Firelord, Standing in the way of his much more competent sister. It was only natural for Ozai to want to remove him from the equation.
Did Agni really expect him to let his throne, the one he had worked so hard for, fall into the hands of a pathetic little brat? One who shook so badly while bending that he scorched his own tunic?
No… Ozai had been right to end the child. To pull out this thorn in his side.
But the stubborn fool refused to die, to his own detriment.
Ozai had been kind, he had offered him an honorable end. To die in an Agni Kai was to die in glory.
But the sages and healers had assured him that the boy would live, he might never heal entirely, but he would live.
That just wouldn’t do.
Only… to kill the boy now, after he had survived a duel, would be a dishonorable act on Ozai’s part. It would cause unrest and distrust in his ranks.
No, this was the best option. Announce to the people that the Prince had been banished for his cowardice, but have him killed quietly and far away.
Maybe in a year or two a hapless Earth Kingdom soldier would stumble over his remains, but that would be untraceable to Ozai.
His hands were clean.
Ozai’s hands were clean, but they left Zuko’s face filthy. Drenched in blood and charred cooked skin.
Ryōsuke had to cover his mouth, in fear of vomiting over the side of the boat.
Agni… the boy had been mutilated.
Nearly half of his face was burned down to the muscle, black and red and wet. It wrapped over his eye and ear, and down his neck, twisting the mottled skin. Ryōsuke couldn’t tell if his eye was just closed, or melted shut.
He smelled like smoke… smoke and burning meat.
He was deathly pale, lying on the wooden slats of the ship, shivering. He was wrapped in a rough red blanket, and underneath it wore nothing but a pair of ceremonial pants.
Spirits… he looked so small.
The boy let out a choked whine as a wave jostled the ship, sweat dripping down his forehead.
Ryōsuke left him below deck, hurrying to get some air.
The ship was small, able to be manned by one person, and he was grateful for the lack of crew. He didn’t want his reputation tarnished by his shaking hands.
But… could he really do this?
Could he not do this?
He really didn’t want to lose his head.
He pushed down his thoughts, shaking his head to clear it, and headed to set the sails.
He would decide what he was going to do later, for now he was following what the Firelord said, and getting the hell away from here.
Ozai said somewhere far, and Ryōsuke agreed. The farther away, the more time he had to come up with a decision.
The South Pole seemed far enough.