Chapter Text
The Fire Nation has a complicated relationship with the sea. Being a state composed of several islands made them naturally seafaring people. This also consequently made the Fire Nation’s navy the best in the world. However, the country was susceptible to the onslaught of typhoons and tsunamis. People’s lives were often devastated by the ocean’s apathetic cruelty by destroying their assets, overturning their livelihoods, and killing their loved ones. Some Fire Nation citizens have a fearful reverence for the ocean, others just hold resentment.
When Prince Zuko was a child, he took neither of these positions. He would often dispute the claim that the ocean was inherently cruel, which was met with chuckles from experienced naval officers that knew better. But to the young prince, the ocean was simply an escape from the strict palace. Going to the beach with his loving family encompassed the best parts of his life. The rolling waves were meditative and consistent; he took comfort on the shoreline, embracing its predictability. Zuko was privileged enough to not have experienced the harsher aspects of the sea.
It was only after he was banished did he learn of the sea’s rage. He soon realized that the calm rolling waves of his childhood were simply an illusion of the ocean's true nature. There is a saying in the Fire Nation Navy: the ocean cannot be compromised with. That was something Zuko could easily agree with. His years of travel on the open sea were anything but peaceful. Tragedy always seemed to make an appearance when the ocean was involved, so misfortune came as no surprise.
The worst possible sound on a ship is that of a broken pressure valve. The high pitch operatic screaming of an unidentified pipe is a prophecy of doom. So when it became clear that the Wani's engine was about to combust, the engineer took off running, managing to do what so little others have been able to do: escape an exploding engine room alive. The explosion caused smoke to permeate throughout the lower decks of the ship. The entire crew was evacuated from their quarters and were huddled together on the deck. It was early morning and the temperature was insufferable. A few men were mildly injured and were receiving treatment, including the engineer. The ship was locked in place by the anchors, so the current couldn’t have its way with the small vessel. Around them, billowing glaciers drifted along the water.
Zuko never wanted to be in the South Pole in the first place. The dark cold arctic was intolerable and he hated every single second of its bite. However, the political situation up north in the Earth Kingdom made it extremely difficult to Avatar hunt. The Fire Nation military was trying to solidify their control over the chaos, causing even stronger tensions among the civilian population. No Earth Kingdom national wanted to talk to him, especially after Father's brutal military strike. It was clear that the Earth Kingdom was far too unstable to effectively accomplish his mission. Uncle Iroh was the one who suggested the arctic expedition, and Zuko was stupid enough to accept it.
So that is why he was here, glaring at his uncle, who was trying to make light of the situation. "This is not the end of the world, Prince Zuko."
Zuko’s nose flared. “What’s the use of a ship that cannot move!” he shouted.
Like always, Uncle Iroh looked unfazed. “There are far worse things that have happened at sea, Prince Zuko.”
Uncle was never a navy officer. He occupied most of his career in the army, so he didn’t know not to tempt the ocean like that. As if on cue, an iceberg began making its way towards them. Zuko loudly cursed and demanded that someone do something. However, his useless crew simply moved the furthest away from the impending iceberg and towards the forward of the ship.
The scraping of metal caused Zuko to cringe. Everyone passively watched as the iceberg dug its way through the exterior of the hull. There was no doubt that there was severe structural damage now. It is a universally horrifying experience watching your ship break, but it was even worse knowing that he was stuck in the middle of an arctic wasteland with no civilization in sight.
Suddenly, the iceberg stopped its havoc after destroying a hefty proportion of the stern. “Well, at least the ship didn’t sink,” Uncle said, after a long moment of horrified silence.
Zuko huffed out an angry flame from his mouth. “Well, tell me, Uncle, if this situation isn’t so dire… what are we to do?” Zuko demanded, not even trying to keep his voice down.
Uncle Iroh didn’t seem to have an answer. However, behind him, Lt. Jee cleared his throat, holding a telescope in his hands. “Well, sirs, we could find the source of the smokestacks.” The lieutenant pointed to a bit of land east of their location. It took a bit of squinting but Zuko saw the faint outline of smoke.
“Yes,” Uncle said, “I am almost certain that is a village. Fire doesn't burn on its own here.”
Lt. Jee nodded. “Hopefully, it is occupied territory. Otherwise, we might be facing hostile barbarians.”
Iroh hummed. “Either way, it is our best bet to at least find out if they are helpful.”
And from there, a small exploration operation manifested. The crew somehow managed to push aside enough debris to get through the lower decks and make it to the, thankfully, unharmed steamer. A small team was assembled which included Zuko, Uncle, and three crewmen to search out for human civilization.
The steamer tugged along, making its way along the icy coastline. It was noon by the time they reached the source of the smokestacks. It was a small, though recently occupied Water Tribe village directly off the coast. A Fire Nation banner hung from the flimsy outer wall. High up on the hill overlooking the village was a small military outpost composed of three buildings. They were extremely lucky. Luck wasn't something Zuko was used to experiencing. The Fire Nation really only had control of a few villages throughout the South, its primary focus was on the Earth Kingdom.
Uncle decided it was best that he and Zuko alone be the first to scope the village so not to overwhelm the natives, leaving behind their skeleton crew. Zuko tentatively agreed. Outside the walls was a middle-aged tribeswoman with a basket on her hip. She wearily watched them exit the steamer.
“Good day.” Uncle Iroh approached the woman with a cheerful smile (as if it would help with any underlying resentment). The woman’s face transformed into something that looked like a pigeon-deer ready to run. “We are in a bit of a predicament right now,’ Uncle began, “and-”
The woman held up her gloved hand, cutting him off. “I understand. I will get one of your own kind,” she said, before retreating towards the hill. She was a bit rude, but so was every other native they talked with. His father believed that the world was destined to bow to the Fire Nation. Ozai may have taken over most of the world, but Zuko wasn’t an idiot; he knew that no one was bowing on their own free will.
Uncle walked through the pitiful arch, with Zuko slowly making his way behind him. Upon entering the village, a sea of blue eyes scrutinized them. The people were composed of women and children, with not a grown man in sight. It didn’t take much to know where the men were. Over the years in the Fire Nation Navy, Zuko understood how imperative it was to avoid the covert Southern fleet.
An older man in a stylish red coat approached them. He had a clean beard and a strong military composure. After glancing at Uncle Iroh, and recognizing who they were, he went into a deep bow. “General,” he said before he straightened upright again. “I am Governor Ryuu of the Yamamoto family.” It didn’t take long for Zuko to realize when he was being ignored.
“Pleasure to meet you, Governor Ryuu,” Uncle said, kindly.
“I am pleasantly surprised by your appearance down here,” Ryuu said. There was a hidden question underneath his remark. Zuko wondered why people couldn’t just be honest with their intentions. Beating around the bush was an utter waste of time.
“We seemed to have marooned ourselves in one of the South’s mighty glaciers,” Uncle Iroh said with a frown, “one must never underestimate the power of ice.”
“Yes, it is very brutal,” the governor hummed in agreement. “Please come to my home, it is a much warmer place to talk,” he invited, casting a glance at the civilians watching the scene with whispered fascination, “and private too.”
Heads began peeking out of huts, and the crowd was getting bigger. He and his Uncle’s presence was perhaps the most exciting thing the village has seen in months, but Zuko hated being a spectacle.
“That would be wonderful,” Uncle Iroh said.
The governor smiled. “Of course, and perhaps a cup of tea?” Everyone seemed to know of his uncle’s unfortunate obsession.
“Do you, by chance, have any Jasmine?” Uncle asked, “we had run out two weeks ago, and I have been craving it for a while."
“Of course, General,” the governor said, leading the way up towards the outpost, leaving the murmuring crowd of blue behind. None of them looked too pleased with their presence in the village; at least he could empathize with the sentiment.