Chapter Text
Zuko had no idea where he was going.
The tunnels under Lake Laogai seemed to stretch on for miles, almost as if they reached Ba Sing Se itself. The barely illuminated stone was washed green by a faded light and the glowing crystals on the walls flickered in the corners of his vision as he sprinted through the endless hallways.
His mask, which did not help with his already limited sight, was bound tightly over his face, the knot and string covered by the black hood he had adorned. As Zuko ran, he could feel the rush of stale air trying to tug back the light fabric, and he forced himself to pause for a moment to fix it. If the hood were to fall back, or worse, the mask itself, Zuko couldn’t even imagine the problems that it would lead to.
Being down here, in a top-secret, high-security Earth Kingdom stronghold was stupid enough on its own, but if he were to get recognized as well...
He really should’ve stayed in Ba Sing Se. Agni, this was stupid. Reckless. This was exactly what he’d promised his uncle he wouldn’t do. But—it was necessary. This would be worth it once he found that Sozin-damned bison.
Reaffirming that he was going in the right direction (which he had no way of knowing, of course), he continued on, trampling the dirt that had gathered on the rocky floors as he ran.
After what felt like hours, the tunnels branched out into a series of parallel hallways, each one adorned with rusted metal doors on both walls. Zuko stopped in his tracks, trusting his instincts that screamed for him to stop here. The hallways here were even darker than the main path he’d been following so far, and he had to squint to make out the start and end of each hallway.
Soft on his feet, Zuko padded towards the first door, which revealed a small set of bars at the top, granting a look into the space behind it. Carefully, he brushed his fingers against the metal, which revealed a thin layer of dust gathered on the surface—not enough to mark the door as unused, but enough to settle some of his nerves about being caught.
Raising himself to his toes, he peered through the bars and into the room behind them. He had to blink a few times before his vision adjusted and any shapes became visible, but it quickly became apparent that he was staring at a prison cell—an empty one, that is. He accepted the information with gritted teeth, fury rising already at the implications, and immediately started making his way down the hall, checking each cell for inhabitants.
Zuko’s thoughts raced with nerves as he found empty cell after empty cell (these aren’t even big enough for a bison why am I checking them I should move on this is useless what am I doing here why can’t I get myself to leave) but still he continued on.
The first hallway was completely abandoned. He moved on to the second.
Still, his rational mind screamed at him to move on, but he couldn’t help but feel as if he needed to stay here. A sense of dread started to curl in his stomach, one he couldn’t quite place. Heart thrumming and blood rushing in his ears, he let his focus tunnel into this one task, mindlessly moving from door to door.
With every empty room, the dread curled tighter, and by the end of the third hallway, his chest heaved with every labored breath, as if the dusty air was choking him from the inside out.
The quiet stillness of the stronghold was unnerving, making it seem like the entire place had become separated from the world, and entering the halls was enough to pass through the border between them. Zuko knew time had to be passing, minutes dripping by as he wasted them in these hallways, but the stale air and gloomy atmosphere made it hard to convince his body of the part.
A soft sound had Zuko freezing in his place.
It was the most hushed noise; one he wouldn’t have made out if it wasn’t for the utter absence of anything else. The soft moving of air, breaths being taken and released in a dreadful pace—in, pause, out, pause, in, pause, out, pause—a disturbance of the frozen reality that was draped over the stronghold.
Zuko stood carefully still, focusing on that noise, as he tried to place its origin. If they were able to, he was sure his ears would’ve been perked upright, twitching and the most minor of noises. Slowly but surely, the sound became clearer, now that he was focused on it. He was certain they were human breaths (he didn’t want to consider what else it could be) and that they were coming from the end of the hallway.
His hands twitched in his black gloves, tightening around his dao as he tip-toed towards the noise. Even more careful now to remain unnoticed, he took care of placing his feet gently upon the smooth stone floor, slowly creeping forwards.
The breathing became clearer, and with it the leisurely pace it was going at. The pauses between breaths seemed to drown on forever, to the point Zuko was half-worried they’d stop at any given moment. His anxious ideas about what he’d find in the cell shifted slightly, moving away from a feral prisoner or a Dai Li guard, and more towards the image of a dying man.
The door loomed in front of him, and the labored, heavy breaths of the person inside were now clear as day. Zuko readied his dao, and lifted himself up to the tips of his toes to look through the bars at the top of the door. Gaze flitting across the room, his eyes immediately narrowed in on a hunched figure in the corner.
Bile rose in Zuko’s throat. No manner of mental preparation and logical thinking could’ve readied him for the sight of the prisoner’s state.
The man—at least, Zuko assume it was a man, though he couldn’t really tell in the darkness—was curled into a tight ball, his face hidden behind his long, dark hair. Said hair was grimy and matted, clearly not having had seen a hairbrush for far too long. The prisoner’s clothes were hanging off his body, the soiled grey fabric doing little to hide the bony flesh underneath. The man looked like a corpse. If it wasn’t for his short, faint breaths, Zuko would’ve thought he was already dead.
He couldn’t leave the man here. Azula would have, and so would Ozai, but... he couldn’t leave him here. No number of crimes deserved this... this injustice.
Slowly, heart pounding with pent up rage at the injustice (how could the Earth Kingdom do this? Did they not have any honor, at all?), he let his foot drag purposefully across the ground, the normally quiet noise now ear-grating in the silence.
Within the second, the figure stirred.
In a movement that would’ve likely been a quick snap of the head, if the man had had the energy, the prisoner lifted his head, eyes wide and panicked at the sudden noise. Zuko, too, froze in his place, their gazes meeting.
Gold.
The man in the cell had bright golden eyes, with irises so bright they seemed to glow in the darkness. It was a color so vivid that Zuko recognized it immediately. It was the same color that painted his uncle’s eyes. Firebender gold, people occasionally called it. Dragon gold.
Zuko let out a soft gasp, taking a small step back, his eyes not leaving those of the prisoner. Vaguely aware that the other man must’ve had a much greater shock, his trembling fingers reached up to push his hood back and undo the string of his mask. All worries about being caught sank away, leaving behind only the helpless need to reassure this person that he could trust him.
After pulling the mask off of his face, he tied it quickly around his belt, before stepping back towards the door. He knew his face was horrifying, the scar etching a permanent, disfigured scowl into his face, but a small part of him hoped that, with his Fire Nation complexion, he might be able to bring some comfort to the man. He could take a fearful look, he’s done it before.
A small croak escaped the prisoner’s mouth, as if the man was trying to form words despite his state, yet nothing came out. But the wariness and panic in his eyes said enough, and Zuko desperately tried to think of something to say.
“Who—who are you?” he asked, his rough voice feeling far too loud for the circumstances. “What happened to you?”
The man’s eyes narrowed, the fear in his gaze replaced by confusion. With a difficulty that reminded Zuko of rusty gears, the prisoner shifted in his place, his weathered clothes rubbing across each other as he straightened slightly from his curled position. The man’s pale complexion and sunken cheeks caught the narrow beam of light that fell into the cell, and Zuko had to hold back an audible gasp at the mistreatment that was painted all across the man’s face.
“Who—” the man rasped, before being cut off by a coughing fit. The heaves of his chest produced nearly no sound, but shuddered all throughout his body, and a sense of guilt and anger burned in Zuko’s chest for the other’s pain.
Shifting his weight from leg to leg, the back of Zuko’s mind anxiously started to focus on trying to find a way to free the man, whilst the rest of his concentration was used on trying to form a sentence, anything at all. “I’m going to get you out of here, sir,” he whispered, and the man’s gaze flicked towards him, filled with a wild, burning passion, one that contrasted so sharply with the rest of his appearance that it made Zuko’s thoughts halt for a moment.
Tremors still shooting through the prisoner’s body, the man’s dry, cracked lips moved, the words barely audible, not much more than a breath.
“Please.”
That was enough to set Zuko into motion.
The door was bolted into the wall with what seemed to be traditional metal bolts, but likely reinforced with earthbending. There would be no way to tear the door out of the wall, or break down the stone surrounding it. The only options were the bars at the top of the door, and, of course, the lock and key to opening it.
Zuko pondered the two for a moment, before deciding on the latter. Even if he could manage to knock out the bars, it would take far too long—let alone the fact that he’d have to get the prisoner through the opening as well, which, considering the man’s state, wasn’t very likely to happen.
That left the key. Which was likely in the hands of a Dai Li officer.
Well, that voice in the back of Zuko’s mind that sounded an awful lot like Azula whispered, you’ve already messed this up for yourself, so you might as well finish it, coward. He took a deep breath, hands clenched tightly around his swords, inwardly cursing himself for his idiocy, before setting himself to this new goal.
Mentally retracing his steps, he remembered a multitude of rooms that he had snuck past on his way here. Near the entrance of the lake, there were a few areas that seemed to be designated to the guards, each one filled with casual seating furniture or what looked like office spaces. The layout was different to any layout they used on Fire Nation ships, but if Zuko had to guess, that was the most likely area to look for a stray key. And if there wasn’t a key there, there was sure to be a guard who could find it for him.
Returning his focus to the prisoner, he muttered a few sentences about the key, hoping he sounded coherent enough. Luckily, the prisoner nodded, his head making the minimalist of movements, but his eyes intense with understanding. Relieved, Zuko tied his mask back on, before turning around and bolting back towards the stronghold entrance.
As he made his way through the now slightly familiar hallways, he ignored the pressing thoughts that reminded him of his original plans, instead opting to focus on his plan of action for acquiring the key itself. Zuko knew from earlier observations that the Dai Li worked in a well-organized structure. Each agent seemed to have a designated position, and they could communicate quickly with each other, like a spider-fly web that stretched throughout the entire stronghold. If Zuko wanted to capture or threaten one agent, he’d have to do so silently and diligently, if he did not want to wake up the whole system.
Preparing for a carefully thought-out ambush, he pushed himself forward until he reached the rooms he had come across a few hours earlier. He passed by a multitude of barracks—none of which were inhabited, luckily— and what looked like a culinary station as well.
It was then that all plans for carefulness were forgotten. A sudden rush of air swept past him, enough to press him against the side of the hallway as he tried to keep himself from falling over. Eyes flying open, he looked up just in time to see the Avatar rush past, and out of instinct and unfortunate experience, he automatically ducked out of the way and into a branching hallway. Just as he had moved away, the airbender was followed by over a dozen Dai Li agents, who rushed past as well.
Zuko saw the chance laid out in front of him, and quickly grabbed the last agent by the collar, pulling him into the hallway. The other agents didn’t seem to notice a thing, their full attention’s pinned on the escaping Avatar.
Fuck, the Avatar. He was right there. After everything he’d gone through, his ticket home, everything he’d ever wanted was right there. But, then again, the boy already had a dozen earthbenders chasing him; joining that fight would be practically suicide. And a small part of Zuko cried, he didn’t think he’d be able to break his promise. That prisoner felt important, somehow. Zuko bit back the urge to scream, and forced himself to forget about the Avatar. That would come later.
Decision made, Zuko slammed the Dai Li agent against the wall, his swords pressed against his neck in a single fluid motion.
The earthbender gasped, eyes wide in shock as he tried to figure out what was happening. Zuko didn’t give him the chance to adjust. Nudging the blades further, he forced the other man’s head upwards, giving him barely enough room to breathe without cutting his flesh on the sharp metal.
“There’s a prisoner,” Zuko grated, and the agent’s gaze flicked towards him, clouded with panic and confusion. “Five or so paces down from here, lock in a cell at the end of the hallway. Fire Nation.”
The earthbender’s eyes widened in recognition, and Zuko let out an internal sigh of relief. This would’ve been a lot more complicated if the agent didn’t know who he meant.
“I need a key to unlock his cell,” he continued, voice calm but threatening from behind his mask, “And you are going to help me find it. Understood?”
The other man’s face shifted into one of hesitation. Fear and loyalty flickered in his expression, but it took only a single shift of the blades at his neck for the agent to cave. He rapidly tapped his hand against the wall, silently begging for Zuko to give him the room to speak, which he did.
The man let out a gasp of relief once the metal left his neck. “The door is locked differently from the other cells,” he stammered, eyes never leaving the swords. “There’s no metal key, you have to earthbend one—”
“Can you do that?” Zuko growled. He pressed the blades closer, letting the weight of the steel do the threatening.
The agent nodded rapidly, short jerks of his head as he tried to get away from the dao. “Yes—yes, of course!”
A quick twist of his hands later, and the man had formed what seemed to be a fully functioning key from the stone gloves all the Dai Li had. It seemed to be of a tougher texture than normal stone, sturdier, but Zuko didn’t give it much thought.
“If I find out you are lying to me, or if you tell even a single soul about this,” he snarled, “I will personally track you down, and you will wish you drowned in this damned lake. Get me?”
And with that, he turned around and dashed back towards the prisoner’s cell.
As the familiar hallway came into view, Zuko couldn’t help but wonder why this prisoner needed a special key.
The cell at the end of the hall was still there, and, after checking inside, so was the prisoner. Wordlessly, Zuko shoved the stone key into the keyhole, which answered with a loud click. As he started turning the key, the metal responded accordingly, moving to the side as he lent against the heavy door. Suppressing a sigh of relief, Zuko focused on getting the door entirely open, and only then did he look up at the man in the cell.
Golden eyes were pinned on him, wide with an unbelieving look.
“Are you—” Zuko’s question fell silent when he noticed the tears streaming down the man’s dirtied face. “Oh.”
For the first time since he’d seen the prisoner, he was able to observe him in the light, with the door wide open. He took a step closer, entering the cell, unsure of what to do or say.
The man’s face had something familiar, though Zuko couldn’t place it. He quickly took off his mask once more, moving to a kneeling position close to the ragged man in the corner. In the manner one might approach a feral pygmy puma, he carefully lent forward, reaching out a hand to the prisoner.
“Hey, it’s—it’s gonna be alright,” he tried, unsure of what to say. “I’m gonna get you out of here.”
The man lifted his face to meet Zuko’s, his gaze wide, and that dread in Zuko’s stomach returned, curling tighter than ever before. The prisoner pushed himself slightly upwards, and let out a short, breathless gasp, “Zuko?”
Zuko froze, eyes bolted onto the man in front of him. The recognition made him sick, made bile rise in the back of his throat as he clawed for an explanation, anything at all that that wasn’t what his mind was landing on. His body screamed for danger, telling him to run now and never turn back, to forget any of this happened.
“How do you know my name?” he pleaded, voice choked as he pulled his hand back. He shook his head, he didn’t want to hear—
“It’s—” A cough, and Zuko could gag.
“It’s me, Zuko.”
Two pairs of golden eyes met, fire raging in both, and Zuko was sure he’d puke right then and there. This couldn’t be. This was a trick of some sort, something thought up by the Earth Kingdom, to capture him. It had to be. It had to be, because—
“You’re dead. My cousin had been dead for five years.”
Lu Ten’s gaze shifted to one of hurt.