Chapter Text
The ice shelf that floated over the Southern Sea was unlike any story he’d been told or book he'd ever read. Snow-bright and boundless, it stretched as far as the eye could see—ninety miles, according to Lieutenant Jee, which was how far the world went before hiding behind its own curvature at sea. The locals called it the Eternal Ice and spoke of it in terms that edged near to spiritual.
It took a three-week oversea journey followed by a day floating over the ice by balloon, but Zuko had decided he liked Jee. Jee told him stories, explained things about the atmosphere and the ice and the inner workings of the steam ship. Jee brought Zuko to sit with the sailors even though it was improper for a prince to dine with enlisted men, and he made the sailors like Zuko too. Jee liked to lay a hand on Zuko's back the way that ambitious young Lieutenants really shouldn't lay hands on the backs of princes, and his touch was always kind. Jee was a grown-up, but sometimes he reminded Zuko of an older cousin half-remembered and long gone away.
Had Zuko been asked, he would have predicted that Lieutenant Jee and his friendship would be the bright spot in his first solo trip away from home. After all, an alleged prince his age living on the South Pole seemed a thin excuse to be rid of Zuko for a summer, and he doubted this prince would be more interesting than Jee.
For a week after their arrival, Zuko would be the lone member of the Fire Nation court present at the court of King Hakoda of the Southern Seas. At eleven, Zuko had the necessary education and experience to represent his father while the flagship unloaded samples of trade goods—the subject of negotiation over the weeks to come.
When the airships landed, the work began.
Everybody had jobs to do and Jee was no different, suddenly caught up in a buzz of activity he directed men about. It would have been unprincely to be jealous of the attention of a man like Jee, so Zuko tried very hard not to be.
It was fine.
Zuko was a prince of the Nation. He had responsibilities too.
He knew he had responsibilities.
He stood by the airship unsure how to proceed. Soldiers hurried to and fro, too busy for him, and Zuko had no interest in bothering the dark-skinned castle guards with their long bone spears and blue tattoos.
He was supposed to... Well, his mother had said he should "be safe," his father had said he should "represent the nation with honor and dignity," and his uncle had told some long, rambling story about a flower petal washing down a river that Zuko had tried very hard to follow and thanked him for even though it made no sense. That was... Something. It was something.
He wished Jee had told him what to do, because Lieutenant Jee was very good at giving people simple, easy-to-understand instructions. He didn't indulge in long-winded metaphors or vague suggestions. Jee said things like, "Move that crate to the great hall," and, "Find a trestle to display these silks."
After a long, anxious while watching the men work, Zuko gathered his courage and asked Jee what he ought to do.
"I'm sure there're other children," he said after a moment's thought, "isn't the prince around your age? Go ask the steward, over there. Have him introduce you."
The man Jee sent him to didn’t seem much more frightening than any of the other Water Tribe warriors, so Zuko did his best to move with the dignity his father expected. Head high and heart in his throat, Zuko stammered out his awkward introduction.
The steward called himself Bato and spoke with a soft voice. “It’s an honor to welcome you, Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation. Prince Sokka is just your age. Come with me.”