AN: Surprise, surprise, the queen is back.
There was hope before. Just a tiny flicker against the wind. With the heart of a child, desperate for warmth, he had reached out, fingers extended. And in that moment, Zuko had a choice of cruelty or kindness; it took no time at all for him to decide.
How was it that he saw suffering and chose to make it all the worse?
Betrayal was a conscious choice for cold indifference, to take a personal gain instead of a loss that would have saved the other. Zuko made himself beyond saving, even the littlest parts. It was his choice. His crossroad. His destiny.
And Guren was left to pick up the pieces.
How many times was his heart meant to break? Be it out of betrayal, out of sadness, or out of this horrid thing he found out was love. How many times? Was there even an answer? Was he supposed to find one himself, while trapped between four walls he couldn't scale? Once again his emotions would turn jagged and his insides tight. He'd wait, wide eyed, heart stuck in his mouth, hoping for a slither of something, but the door would remain shut and nothing would change.
He'd swallow the pain of that realisation, eat it up in his stomach, and hope for it to disappear. It didn't. It never did before. All it did was turn into anger, only for bitterness to follow suit. It tended to linger more, bitterness, than anything else.
Yet, at the end of the day, everything would become nothing.
Over and over and over and over again, he'd go through this cycle. One thing after another, and end up at the same empty feeling of loss. What did he lose now? He didn't lose anything. There was nothing to lose to begin with, right? This thing he named love was a mistake. It was something that arose due to the situation, nothing more, nothing less.
A past he wanted to forget, yet reached out for with open arms. A stupid, stupid mistake, and he paid the price for it. A price that may have been too high.
Aang.
Over and over and over and over again, Guren would visit him. He'd walk into the darkened room with hesitant steps and with hope in his heart, yet walk out feeling heavier than ever, for Aang was far too still and far too pale and far too silent. Those were the things Guren never would've associated with him. Things that never seemed possible.
Aang, the Avatar meant to save everyone, was just a boy in the end. A boy Guren failed to protect for he chased after a past he was meant to forget. A past he ran from. A past he...regretted.
A past he wished he could've changed.
But that was not how the world worked. The things you choose not to do end up as regrets. The words you choose not to say end up as regrets. The actions you do not take end up as regrets.
Hesitation led to regret.
Should he...not hesitate anymore?
_
He remembered how it was before, when they were children, unaware of what went on behind closed doors. While Azula had her lessons, Zuko, inevitably, had Guren. They'd wait for her to finish, for hours at a time, passing time together while doing anything to speed up the process. They'd sit at the pond in the palace and feed the turtle duck family. They'd play catch which Guren would always win. He had a thing for underhanded methods like climbing up a tree or scaling the side of a wall.
Zuko could never catch him, yet Guren ended up getting caught in the end, years down the line.
_
He was him one day, quietly sitting in the courtyard with paper spread around him. The white covered the vibrant grass and blooming flowers as if it were always there.
"What are you doing?" He asked, slowly drawing near.
His father's shoulders locked up and he quickly turned around, a hint of surprise crossing his features. "Guren," He sounded surprised, "Come here."
Guren was suspicious of the sudden invitation, yet did as told in the end. He approached his father until he stood behind him, and looked down over his shoulder. The sight made his eyes widen.
Multiple paper ornaments sat in the grass, all kinds of shapes and sizes.
"What this?" He asked, dropping to his knees so he could take a closer look. His fingers tangled in the grass as he stood on all fours, peeking from around his father's wide frame. "It's pretty."
A soft laugh came from the man. "It's called origami. It's...an art of sorts. I picked it up on my last expedition and wanted to try it out." He reached for one of the ornaments, a flower of sorts, and raised it up to Guren's face, where he tucked it behind one of his ears. "Pretty indeed."
Guren felt his face heat up and he spluttered, incoherent words leaving him. Quickly, he pulled the flower out and held it in-between his index and thumb finger.
His father kept laughing.
"Stop!" He whined out, but the man wouldn't listen.
Instead a hand landed on the top of his head, rough palms gently caressing him. "Yes, yes. Anything for you."
It was in moments like these that this man in front of him looked most vulnerable. He wasn't like this in front of anyone, even Azula and Zuko, even his...mother. It was as if this part of him was meant for Guren and Guren only. That kind of thing made something ugly in him spread, a kind of self-satisfaction he couldn't quite understand, as if he had won at something.
"Can you make me a Jelly Koi?"
His father paused. "Hmm. I can try, but no promises. I'm not that good."
Not that good? How could he say that after making so many pretty ornaments? So many- Then Guren saw them, the other ornaments, and how many of them were the same shape. "Are these...cranes?"
Thus his father's vulnerability hardened and no words left him, only a single, fleeting smile twisting the corners of his mouth.
Guren couldn't help but think it was painful.
_
"Master Hei started making origami!" Excitedly, Azula revealed.
Guren hummed from his place beside her. "I know already. I saw him in our courtyard."
The girl looked promptly scandalised. "No fair, I thought I was the first one!" She whined, childishly swinging her legs back and forth. Huffing, she wiggled forward and dropped off the tree branch, soundlessly landing on the grass below.
Sighing, he followed after her. "Nothing you can do about it."
Again, she huffed, crossing her arms as she looked away. "Still not fair."
Not fair?
He bumped their shoulders together. "I'm the one who should be saying that. You're with him more than I am, and I'm his son!"
For a moment, Azula looked like she regretted it, but then her brows furrowed. "Since when do you want to spend time with him? Aren't you the one who avoids him?"
He was promptly shut down by a girl three years his junior. Not-so-inconspicuously, he glanced away. "I'm just saying..." Quickly, he changed the subject. "Where's Zuko? Wasn't he supposed to meet us here?"
She squinted her eyes at him, but didn't continue the previous subject. "Oh, you know him. Too busy doing who knows what. He should arrive-"
"Sorry I'm late!" As if on cue, Zuko appeared, running towards them.
Azula tapped her foot against the ground. "Where were you?" Immediately, she questioned him.
Typical...
"I was with mom, she wanted to show me something!" A wide grin lit up the boy's features.
At the mention of the woman, Azula's expression darkened. "Show you something? What could that possibly be?"
Zuko didn't seem to notice. "Turtle ducks!"
Ah! Guren recognised the name. "I read about them in the bestiary father gifted me!" Excitedly, he ran up to Zuko and took him by the hands. "I wanna see them. Can I? Can I?!"
"See them? But we said we'd-" Azula's words were cut short.
Zuko's response was immediate. "Of course!" And he tugged Guren along.
"Come on, Azula, I wanna see the turtle ducks!" Without looking back, Guren called out to her.
Silently, she followed after them.
.
.
.
The palace pond was bigger than the one back at Guren's villa, but there wasn't as much greenery. It looked...desolate, somehow, as if there wasn't life. But he paid it no mind and instead glued his eyes to the animals in the middle of the pond.
"They're so cute!" He gushed, running up to the edge of the pond and crouching down. Lightly, he tapped the water with his finger and watched as the turtle ducks slowly swam over to him, the little ones following the mama duck. He waited for them to come closer, but they swam around the corner, not really approaching too much.
They were cautious.
"Zuko, you have any bread on you?" Guren asked, looking back at the younger boy.
Said boy already held some in his hand as he crouched beside Guren. "Here." He broke it in half and gave it to him.
Giddily, Guren plucked small pieces and threw them in the pond, watching as the turtle ducks came closer than before, and eat the little pieces of bread without hesitation.
He wiggled in place, too immersed with their cuteness to notice Azula sneaking behind.
And then he was shoved forward.
Landing face-first into the shallow water, he barely avoided the mud beneath as he stopped himself with his hands. Rising up from below the surface, he spat the water out of his mouth and turned around. "What are-?" And was thus interrupted upon seeing Zuko flying directly at him. Quickly reaching out, he managed to soften the boy's landing by somehow catching him, but that ended up pushing him back underwater because Zuko landed atop him.
By the time the two of them got out, Azula was long gone.
.
.
.
They found her a while later, at the part of the palace she went to the most; a balcony that oversaw a distant part of the nation.
"Azula..." Guren spoke first, hesitantly approaching the girl.
"What?" She didn't turn to look at them, but he noticed how rough her voice sounded.
Was she...? It didn't matter. It wasn't his place to ask, and he knew she'd hate it if he did, so he kept silent about it. The thing he needed to do now was- "We're sorry."
For a few moments she didn't say anything, but then she looked back at them. "For?"
"For not honouring our deal of hanging out as we planned." Zuko finished.
Azula didn't look convinced, but then her features softened and Guren knew they were safe. "You're forgiven, for now, but don't let this happen again, you hear me?!"
"Yes!" In sync, both he and Zuko answered.
.
.
.
"I'm home! Zuko and Azula are here as well!"
He was greeted with silence, which was weird. Both his mother and father should've been home. They were home when he went out, so how come nobody was answering?
"Maybe they're in the courtyard?" Zuko proposed.
"Maybe..."
Deciding to check, the three of them went to the courtyard, but only found one of the people he wished to see; his mother.
"Mom? Where's dad?"
For a moment, it was as if she didn't hear him. She stared off into the distance, as if looking at something none of them could see. He could only see the side of her face, just the briefest of expressions.
Guren couldn't help but think it was painful.
He broke out into a run towards her and wrapped his arms around her middle. "Mom!" He yelled, voice muffled by her clothes. Tightly, he held onto her, tightly, his insides twisted. Never had he wanted to see her make such an expression. Never had he wanted her to look like this, so saddened.
Fingers tangled in his hair, gently caressing him. He peered up at her and saw her looking down at him, looking the same as she always did, not a hint of previous feelings. "What's wrong?"
Choosing not to think much of her sudden shift, he released her. "Are you okay?"
She smiled, tilting her head. "Why wouldn't I be?" Then, she looked behind him. "I see you've brought your...friends."
As if on cue, both Azula and Zuko greeted her.
Guren pushed down the uncomfortable feeling.
.
.
.
His father had left again, unexpectedly called upon by the Fire Lord and sent far, far away from home, on an expedition, as they called it. His mother talked to him about it, before, and his father did as well.
The Fire Lord was capturing every Waterbender he could lay his hands on, and it was his father's job to see it through till the end.
Heiron, The Undying. That was what everyone called him. The unbeatable Fire Nation general and his mighty steed; Nemesis, The Harbinger of Death. Infamous for all of their deeds.
But at home he was nothing but a father and Nemesis was nothing but a loved companion.
.
.
.
"We didn't know..." Azula spoke.
The three of them sat near the pond, watching the jelly koi swim around. Nonchalantly, Guren poked the water with a stick, careful not to touch the Jelly Koi.
"We're never told anything..." Zuko added.
Around them, the last of the flutterfires floated, spending their last remaining moments in the Fire Nation. Summer was around the corner, as was their migration period. Guren tended to dislike summer for that very reason.
"It doesn't matter. He always leaves." He gripped the stick in his hand and resisted the urge to throw it into the pond.
A hand settled on his shoulder, gently gripping it. "He'll come back. Master Hei always comes back."
From the other side, Zuko did the same. "And we'll braid his hair again, like we always do!"
Guren lowered his head. "You don't know that."
"You're right, we don't, but we can only hope. Wasn't that what he said? Every time we get to say good night, we hope there is a chance to say good morning or hello to those we cherish, and the cherished ones whom we say goodbye to, we hope to see again with a smile."
He looked at her, really, really looked at her. "Hope doesn't bring people back."
It was as if he had slapped her. The horrid twisting of her expression made him regret those words, but it was already said and done. Still, she was gentle as she took him by the hand. "Don't say that."
"What else am I supposed to say?"
Slowly, Zuko's hand took his as well. "Anything but that..."
He didn't know what else to say. It was always like this. One day his father would just disappear and then come back after who knows how long, only to stay for a few days at a time and disappear again, without a word, without a goodbye, without promising that they'd see each other again. His mother would be left heartbroken and alone, and Guren would be the one to pick up the pieces.
"I hate this." He did, he really did.
The two of them pressed their cheeks against his shoulders, squeezing against him. Their warmth felt...comforting. Like two beacons of light covering him from both sides, leaving no part of him vulnerable.
Their presence lessened the pain caused by his father, and for that he was grateful.
.
.
.
They stayed like that for a while, huddled up beside the pond, between the jelly koi's soft glow and the flutterfires' gentle buzz.
Until it was time for them to go back.
With great hesitation, the three of them separated, yet he didn't stray more than a feet away from them on their way out. It was like an invisible pull that disallowed him to move away. As they stood at the gate, as they said their goodbyes, Guren wanted to reach out again, wanted to ask them to stay, that he couldn't...deal with this on his own.
But he knew he'd see them tomorrow, as he always did. They were an ever-present part of his life now, a bond that couldn't be broken by anything.
"Forever shall we stay together, never shall we stray apart."
They made a promise, after all.
"Tomorrow, we'll see each other again. And that will bring us one day closer to seeing Master Hei again."
Perhaps it will.
In the end, all they could do was hope.
.
.
.
When he went back, he saw his mother crouching over the pond. Her wavy hair slid over her shoulder, the tips barely breaching the surface. Just like the jelly koi's curling appendages, the wet parts of her hair pulled up in tight curls. For a moment, he touched his own hair, saddened at the fact that it did not look like hers at all. Not even the colour. Not even the texture.
When he looked at himself, he saw none of her. All he saw was the man that was never there.
"Heiron got the jelly koi when we came here. And a bonded pair for us." Fluidly, she moved her hand and the water listened, the jelly koi slowly rising along with it. They didn't seem bothered, even while in the air, instead they circled around one another in the tight ring of water. She rose to her feet, and the ring of water slowly floated over to Guren.
Gingerly, he raised his hand and felt the weight of the water settle upon him.
He watched as his mother reached out to the water once again, and the last, third jelly koi, was raised up. "It was born around the same time you were, as if foretold by fate."
The two bubbles neared one another, until the water combined and the jelly koi family was together again. The youngest jelly koi was smaller than the bonded pair, as it didn't reach fully maturity yet. Jelly koi lived for decades, even up to centuries in some cases, and the older they are, the bigger they get. Slowly, the young jelly koi swam up to its parents and circled around them, clinging to the darker one.
"The midnight blue one is meant to represent me, while the honey gold one is meant to represent your father."
Fascinated, Guren moved his hands through the air and the bubble followed suit. Carefully, he observed the small jelly koi. It was said that young jelly koi start out as a mix of both colours, and, as they get older, only one colour will remain. In this case, there were two colours as the jelly koi was still too young for the dominant colour to prevail.
"I wonder which colour the small one will end up being." He wondered out loud, glancing at his mother.
But she wasn't looking at him; her silvery-blue eyes only saw honey gold.
_
When his father came back, they did exactly what Zuko said they'd do; braid his hair. Except Guren didn't do any braiding. He sat on the side, a bit away from them, and watched the siblings do their work. They laughed, all three of them, without a care in the world. His father's dark, dark hair gave off a glossy shine in the sun, littered with multiple braids and twists. They braided Azula's next, and, with little convincing, Zuko's as well.
Now Guren was the last one who remained.
All it took was one soft look from his father and the siblings' hands in his own.
.
.
.
"You know, you actually look pretty cute all dolled up like that."
Azula was having the time of her life.
Guren huffed, resisting the urge to unbraid his hair. "Shut up."
Meanwhile...Zuko was absolutely enjoying the fact his own hair was braided. He kept playing with it, going as far as using it as a false moustache and laughing to himself.
If only Guren was as half as happy about this situation as he was.
And his father? He was the worst of them all. He was actually freaking fawning over Guren! The audacity! He said things like 'you'd be the most beautiful girl of them all!' and 'I would be forced to fight off so many of your suitors!' It was embarrassing and frankly kind of annoying. His face kept heating up and he couldn't talk properly at all! He couldn't even defend himself!
"You're impossible." He told him, avoiding his grabby hands.
The man began sulking, but didn't cease his attempts at grabbing hold of Guren, which, at some point, he succeeded in doing. His broad form enveloped Guren in a tight embrace as his father rubbed his cheek against the top of his head, sprouting ridiculous words like 'adorable' and 'precious' and 'cutest' and so on. Guren stopped struggling after a few seconds and made peace with his fate.
Then both Azula and Zuko joined them. The four of them crumbled to the ground and his father took them all into his arms, clutching them to his chest. Laughter filled the vibrant courtyard, and Guren couldn't help but join in.
This...wasn't bad.
_
The autumn festival finally arrived.
His father was home at that time, and so they spent it together, in their quiet courtyard, illuminated by thousands of burning flutterfires. The sky looked as if it were daytime and the jelly koi shone brighter than they usually would. Glowing midnight blue and honey gold swam across the glimmer of liquid diamonds. Flutters of vermillion shades burned crimson, leaving trails of a fleeting carmine on the rippling surface, a dance of fire and water under the moonlit night.
All the other jelly koi joined together, blinding colours burning bright.
And when Guren turned to face his father, he saw crimson burning in his golden eyes. Bright-eyed, the man stared up at the sky, full of wonder and amazement. Like a child. Like an innocent, innocent child. His mother sat on the other side, his father in between them, but all Guren could look at was this man beside him.
Then, those burning golden eyes turned to him, and a smile so bright lit up his father's features. Rough, yet gentle, fingers threaded through the hair at the back of Guren's head and he was brought closer, until his cheek rested on his father's shoulder. Warm, warm, warm. He was so warm, as if embodying warmth itself. And Guren felt so safe and sound and protected and...
He closed his eyes, clenched them shut, and ignored his heart's painful drums.
Good things never lasted, did they?
_
And they didn't.
Like a clock ticking in the corner of his mind, Guren felt like time was running out. He couldn't understand what it was that made him feel that way.
Was it the fact his father was home longer than he usually was?
Was it the fact they spent more time together?
Was it the fact his mother didn't leave the villa?
Was it the fact his father didn't let him meet with Azula and Zuko as often?
Everything was off, disrupted. Upside down. Things weren't supposed to go like this. At first, he was relieved that his father was home more. That meant his mother would be happier. But, one thing went after another and things changed.
At night, he'd hear his father and mother whisper to each other. Things Guren couldn't really hear or understand. And in the morning, they'd act like nothing happened, like they weren't keeping secrets from him. They said that he'd understand when he was older, back when they first moved. Was he still too young? Even after all this time? Was he not ready to understand? Was the truth really that...harsh?
He couldn't understand.
_
He didn't understand until the truth came to him, in the form of his mother's hardened expression and his father's stone-cold eyes. There was no trace of warmth in either of them, just absolute resolve.
They needed to leave, his mother and him. They needed to run away and never come back.
"But what about you?" Guren asked him.
Stone-cold as he was, there was a glimmer of something in his eyes. "I will make sure you get away."
He...wasn't going with them? In that moment, Guren came to a realisation; he was helpless. There was nothing he could do in this situation. Nothing he could change.
He could do nothing but stand still, not even reach out his hand, not even call out to his father, not even ask him to stay.
And that shall remain as one of his greatest reg-
_
He breathed out, stopping himself from remembering more. It was useless to think of the past. To think of things he didn't do or say. To think of regrets, no matter how painful they were. Yet, a part of him couldn't abandon the thought, couldn't quite...leave it all behind.
Couldn't leave Zuko and Azula behind.
At spring they met. In summer they bonded. By autumn they grew distant. On winter the children in them died.
A reality he needed to make peace with, yet was unable to. He'd think of them throughout the years and wonder how they were doing. If they were well. If they thought of him, too. If they missed him as much as he missed them. He got the answer eight years later. An answer he didn't take well.
Azula and Zuko weren't Little Vixen and Little Wolf anymore.
Neither was he Little Bird.
The sound of the door slamming open caught him off guard, and he looked up just in time to see Sokka panting at the doorstep. "Aang is awake!"
It was about time he left his past behind.
•
"Everyone can be dangerous. Under the right circumstances and when push comes to shove, we take the path that we think leads to the best destination. No matter the destruction left in our wake... or the people we leave hurting."