𝙒𝙝𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙁𝙡𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙨 ⚠ slow updates ⚠ *editing*

The Boy In The Iceberg: Pt. 1

edited *1/4/2023*

Three years later...

The cold of the South Pole nearly froze every fiber in her body. If she weren't a firebender and if that fire didn't constantly burn, she probably would've frozen into an ice sickle by now. A puff of cold condensation escaped her lips when she sighed. She gazed in bored longing at the plain blue and white glaciers and the ice ground coated with inches and inches of snow. White, what a plain and boring color. Well, she had wondered what the South Pole looked like, and now she knew. She couldn't say it impressed her much.

It was cold and she sure felt it.

Her ears perked up as she heard padded footsteps from the midst of the large metal vessel, she glanced over her shoulder. Zuko paced impatiently as Iroh played his game of mahjong. He seemed unfazed by Zuko's burst of annoyance and boiling anger.

His voice rang out into the cold, empty air. She turned around. Her friend, she could barely recognize him anymore. Although his father was no concern to them, he still yearned to restore the honor he'd lost by capturing an Avatar that vanished more than a hundred years ago.

"I don't want any calming tea! What I want is to find the Avatar!" Zuko bellowed at his uncle before he stormed across the metal deck and into the ship's inner quarters.

Hestia figured he would go to his room like a child. Her blue eyes followed his frame until he disappeared below deck and then refocused onto Iroh. He poured himself some steaming jasmine tea. A smile made a tiny mark on her tired face, and she approached the small table to sit. She lowered herself carefully, making sure to sit on the skirt of her dress and not the metal of the ship.

"I think I'll join you in drinking this calming tea."

Iroh smiled at her, taking the spare cup originally meant for Zuko, turned it over, and poured the hot tea into the small cup. He handed the steaming drink over to the shivering girl. She gratefully took the cup and began to sip the tea. She hummed in appreciation. She always loved Iroh's tea, he made the perfect tea, in her opinion. He knew it, everyone on the ship knew it. Perhaps it was one of the shortened things that kept her sane while sailing the arctic seas.

"Mmm. Your tea never ceases to be delicious. I fall in love every time I have a cup." Hestia finished her ration and placed the cup on the small table. She sighed aloud. "I should probably go talk to Zuko."

He didn't protest and watched as she got to her feet. She patted out her dress and moved away from the table, walking around it. She thought it better to go calm her friend before he lashed out on a crew mate unnecessarily.

The winter scenery disappeared as she entered the lower deck, surprisingly able to hear the heavy steps of Zuko and his chamber door slamming shut. The sounds vibrated through the metal walls and its vessel. All the brightly shining glaciers and half-frozen waters became dimmed by the metal interior, and the frosty temperatures seemed to dull while she made her way further into the halls. Though the corridors were practically identical, Zuko's quarters was a route she knew by heart.

She approached his door, hearing shuffling and incoherent mumbling inside. A smile upturned her lips. His frustration grew with each passing day, and to ease those frustrations, he would meditate and practice breathing exercises Iroh taught him long ago. Slight heat emitted from the metal door

"Zuko?" Her voice was soft as she rapped on the metal entrance. Once she received a mumble, which she assumed was permission to enter, the teenager opened the heavy door, its hinges squealed softly, and she stepped inside. As angry as Zuko was, she knew he wouldn't hurt. Even if he did try, he could never beat her in a duel.

"Hestia?" The way her heart clenched for nearly the thousandth time over the years. He hadn't called her "Tia" in a very long while. Not since the day they were banished from the Fire Nation. Months he had called her the nickname; that was all he ever called her, and then after the banishment, she was Hestia once more.

Zuko sat on a large cushion in front of a small table. Two large candles were ablaze, and calm flickers of bright flame danced on the wicks. He glanced back at her and returned to his mediating.

"I'm not here to lecture," she assured him and took another plush cushion from the bed and set it next to the left side of the scarred prince. "I miss being near you, is all."

"You're always near me, Hestia." He muttered while she settled beside him.

"Yes, but you're always so frustrated and angry. Let's sit in peaceful silence together, okay?"

She adjusted herself into the mediation position Zuko folded himself into; it was small, but she caught a glimpse of it — a faint smile. If she had said anything, it would've dropped immediately. She didn't want that. She wanted to keep him good and help maintain what little happiness he still held inside.

"Very well." He spoke, sparing her one last side glance, and returned to meditating.

Her ultramarine eyes briefly locked onto the bright red burn on his left face, mood dropping into the pits of her stomach. She forced herself to look forward and closed her eyes, sucking a deep breath, and then releasing it while a horrid memory came to the surface.

"The girl, do you have her?!"

In the midst of the chaos, Hestia could only focus on her withering friend as he wept on the stage. His body trembled with excruciation, and she could no longer hear his wails of agony. For a moment, she was relieved she couldn't hear him, but the fear of losing him greatened when she couldn't hear his voice. The soldiers tugged her arms savagely, yanking her along, forcing her off the stage while many of the existing generals of lieutenants tossed slurs and execution suggestions. So many voices overlapped one another, she couldn't grasp on which one was which.

She kicked her feet, though it was futile to try and break two iron grips of men three times her size.

For her assault against the Fire Lord, she was thrown into prison. No visitors, no food, no water, no communication. Just her in a dirty cell and a bunch of other criminals around her in their own confinement.

She sat in that hay-covered cell for nearly three days, awaiting her punishment: death. With the audience, her fate was to die. Attacking the Fire Lord and wounding him was punishable beyond just pain and anguish. Perhaps they would torture her until she died. Or maybe brand her a slave and work harmful labor.

She didn't regret it.

Fire Lord Ozai got what he deserved.

Soft footsteps caught her attention, and then the peephole on the door slid open. At first, she saw the guard outside her door, he glared in and then moved away. Cruel eyes were replaced with kind ones.

"Iroh." Her voice was hoarse.

"Child," his golden irises flickered from her to the guard. "Open the cell, soldier."

"Yes, Honorable General."

The cackles of the door filled the empty air, echoing sullenly. Eerily. Light split the dark, causing the young girl to flinch under the bright rays.

Iroh sauntered inside; the guard close behind him.

"Your persecutors have decided on a verdict," her heart thumped as his grim expression creased, disappearing into the shadow cast upon the front of his body. "However, I will express my strenuous efforts to stall and bend your death row into banishment."

"What?" Her eyebrows furrowed.

"My brother is not a lenient man, Hestia," Iroh shook with his head with disappointment. "He has no mercy in his soul, but by the luck of the spirits, you were granted temporary immunity and have been banished from the Fire Nation until Prince Zuko is able to find and collect the Avatar."

"A-Avatar?" Her eyes widened.

His lips thinned more. "We set sail by tonight's high tide. I will send someone to collect you. Be ready, child."

And then he left.

And yet again, she was encased in darkness.