[act two; chapter six     -     the boiling rock]

    It was early in the morning, the sun having just breached the sky. The world around him was painted in various colors, shades of pinks and reds and oranges. And under it all, in their midst, was Lian and Aang, their bodies covered in sweat, eyes focused as the Avatar trailed her movements, mimicking her.

    Much had changed about Lian in four years, Zuko had learned. He had seen it in her. In her eyes. In the way she walked and held herself. No longer was she a thirteen year old girl who had begun to learn the ways of the world around her. No, no longer. Rather, she was grown and mature. She stood tall, body lean with muscle and scarred with experience.

    With every movement, her body moved as though she were made of water. Her feet, bare against the ground, moved, sweeping over the surface as her legs, steady and sculpted, carried her body. Her arms, lean and unwavering, mimicked movements Zuko had practiced his entire life.

    She was moving, he realized, in arrangements of all four bending types. It appeared as though she had taken them and turned them into one, creating her own style of movement, something his own Uncle had been attempting to teach him for years.

    It was beautiful.

    (She was beautiful.)

    With a blindfold over her eyes, same as Aang, she could not see him. Not with her green eyes, that was. But Zuko knew, then, that his presence was known to her. But still, he watched on. He analyzed their movements, the way that the Avatar was solely dependent on following her by what he knew was a technique called "seismic sense". They moved, then, together, entirely in tandem.

    He was curious as to how long they had been practicing for by the time Lian tugged the blindfold from around her eyes, her hands instinctively reaching to wipe sweat from her brow. From her side, Aang did the same, though neither seemed much surprised, nor incredibly excited, by his presence.

    "Why don't you go rest for a while, Aang? Good job today," she told him, crouching to the ground, resting her elbows on the peaks of her knees.

    The younger boy nodded tiredly, excusing himself with a quick pat to Zuko's shoulder. After all, they had only returned, just days prior, from learning the origins of firebending. In that time, they two had been at constant practice, not just in the manner of using fire, but conditioning their bodies and minds, finding balance in a way that, perhaps, they had both lacked.

    The Prince had told Lian about it all under the cover of night just days ago. He had crept into her room, sitting on the floor adjacent to where she, too, had sat on the floor, back leaning against the side of her bed. She had listened, then, dutifully. She had listened and understood. She had let him speak and when she had questions, he answered. For a moment, then, in that time, it had felt as though, perhaps, they were thirteen again. Thirteen and awkward, yet so keenly aware of their emotions.

    He had noticed, however, that she had gone quiet after a while. Deathly still, eyes almost unblinking. And then he saw the sheen in her eyes. Her green eyes that had haunted him since the moment he last saw them. As he moved to stand, she put a hand out, telling him to stay where he was. She was not afraid of him, he knew. She was afraid of something else.

    Of her mind, of what lingered there. What she had begun to come up with. The thoughts and images. For a moment, it almost seemed perfect. Just the two of them, sitting together. There was no war or death. They were not lacking parents or love. They just simply...were. Then it hit her. One thought. It was all it took.

I am not needed here. They do not need me. Would they even realize if I disappeared? If I no longer was.

    She hated herself for it, really. Hated how it had crept out of nowhere and poisoned her mind. That she had thought back to the night in Ba Sing Se. The what if's—what if Azula had succeeded? If Lian simply ceased to exist because of her actions. If her presence was noticed. If they saw how much pain she was in every day of her life. Part of her, then, thought maybe it should have ended there. That if her life had come to a close that night, she would have gone in the only world that she had ever known. She would have left this world, moving onto the next life, in the very place that she had come to exist.

    (I shouldn't be here, she thought. I am not deserving of this life. It is wasted on me.)

    The darkness had crept in and there was nothing to stop it. There was no sun to break through her storms. The earth was drowning under the pressure of carrying life.

    She was turning back to the shadows, clawing her way back, and Zuko felt as though there was nothing he could do to stop it.

    Nothing he could say or do would change it. He could try, and he would, but he knew, better than most, the darkness of the mind. He had known it the day he stood on that cliff, begging for lightning. Begging for a chance to prove life wrong. To change his mind. To give him something to fight for.

    So when she had pushed back onto her bed, laying with her head tipped to the ceiling and murmured, "You should go," he did. He left her there, only stopping by the beds side for a brief moment. He had bent at his waist, then, and ghosted his lips over her temple, bidding her a goodnight.

    He had heard her choked sobs as he left, biting back his own.

    He knew what lingered there, between them. The words. She had not forgotten all that he had done, and she had not forgiven him. He did not blame her, of course, for he did not forgive himself.

    He pulled himself back to the moment, then, surrounded by the early morning sun. "How are you?" He asked, not stopping to think before speaking.

    She looked up, almost startled. "I'm fine." And then she looked away, back to the ground as she planted her hands and pushed off, standing tall. The ends of her pants had been secured to rest just below her knees, a thin sleeveless shirt the only other article of clothing she wore. "How—how are you?"

    "I'm...okay."

    For days now, Katara had offered Zuko only a cold shoulder and harsh eyes. She had, more often than not, refused to speak with him, and ignored his presence, even in the company of others. Lian had seen it, she had spoken to the younger girl about it.

    It had been clear to the others for days that the two had been stuck at an indifferent—Katara and Lian. They had sat down, eventually, and spoken. Shared their thoughts and, in the end, hugged, smiles lighting up their faces.

    Lian approached him, then, stopping just before him. Still, she stood just slightly shorter than he did. She appeared as though she was going to speak, as if words would flow from her mouth with ease. But then she stopped. She offered him a small smile, a brush of her hand against his arm, and tipped her chin down, walking past him with nothing more and nothing less.

———

    Frankly, Lian had grown quite tired of being woken in the night. Or rather, the early morning.

    It had been both Zuko and Sokka this time, rather than the Avatar. They had quietly crept into her room, shaking her awake and gaining her attention. She had groggily rubbed at her eyes, trying to wake herself up enough to understand the words that Sokka was—horribly—whispering to her.

    "What?"

    He groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. "Zuko and I are going to the Boiling Rock. We're finding my dad."

    She pushed herself up, looking between the two boys, brows furrowed. "Both of you?" They nodded. "You're going to the Boiling Rock to rescue Hakota. And you are coming to me because..."

    "We need your help."

    Not want. Not even a question. A need.

    "Give me five minutes."

    And sure enough, within five minutes, she was ready, dressed in dark green and gold, her hair, now reaching her collarbones, parted down the middle, the front sections of her hair, tucked behind her ears, clasped at the midway with gold cuffs.

    The boys had guided her, not towards Appa, but towards a war balloon, the very same that Zuko had arrived in. Then, together, the three left the Air Temple, leaving only a brief note in their wake.

    Zuko, the only firebender, was keeping the balloon afloat, while Sokka simply looked outside, watching the clouds. Lian, however, had found herself leaning against the side of the balloon, her back to the sky.

    She rolled her eyes as the boys avoided making eye contact, an awkward air surrounding them, keeping them from discussing what was truly at stake. They had briefly brought her up to date, explaining the plan with a lack of depth, though she had figured that was warranted when they had woken her up.

    "Pretty clouds," Sokka breathed, eyes cast to the sky behind him.

    Zuko grimaced. "Yeah, fluffy."

    "You both are horrible."

    The Prince turned to her, his hands raising, exasperated. "What?"

    "I said you are both horrible." She looked between them, shaking her head. "Are you both incapable of carrying a normal conversation? Because that is what it looks like."

    Sokka sighed, leaning his arms on either side of him. He looked up and around, eyes scanning the walls of the ship they stood in. "You know, a friend of mine actually designed these war balloons."

    "No kidding," Zuko turned to him, appearing truly intrigued.

    "Yup. A balloon...but for war."

    The firebender turned his head, then, casting his eyes towards the fire before him. He fell silent for a moment before he sighed heavily. Sadly. "If there's one thing my dad's good at, it's war."

    Sokka, however, did tend to speak without thought. "Yeah, it seems to run in the family."

    Lian bit her tongue, casting her eyes to the ground. She would not say anything, not even the smallest comment. She would not aid either in their defense, as she knew it was coming. Sokka was, perhaps, right in his words. Zuko's family, for generations, had been excellent at war. They had fueled the destruction of the Air Nomads, of the airbenders. They had ordered the extermination and hunting of waterbenders. They had led the occupation of her own people, of the earthbenders and those of the Earth Kingdom. For too long, they had caused only harm. Zuko was different, though, she knew. He had a good heart, morals. He was different, just as his Uncle was.

    And though her words may contradict her thoughts, Lian believed that, had she been given the same opportunity to grow, Azula would be different. Had she not been pushed forward into the hands of those who only caused harm, she would have been different. She would have had people at her side to believe in her, to pull her back, just as Iroh so constantly did for Zuko.

    Lian was ashamed, perhaps, to know that she had had that opportunity at a time. She had been given the opportunity. The chance to show Azula that she could do better, be better. That she was not solely the expectations of her father and the bitterness of her brother. She could have been different, and Lian had left her. She would carry that guilt with her all her life.

    Zuko shook his head instantly. "Hey, hold on. Not everyone in my family is like that."

    Sokka put his hands up in defense. "I know, I know. You've changed."

    "I meant my uncle. He was more of a father to me. And I really let him down."

    Lian had never experienced such things. Only ever in Iroh. She hadn't received that undying love from anyone but him. A love that was built entirely off of belief, of the want to see someone succeed. Her father had always been proud of her, she knew that. And she liked to imagine that, if her mother was alive, that Jia would be proud, too.

    "I think your uncle would be proud of you," Sokka said gently, genuinely. "Leaving your home to come help us? That's hard."

    Zuko, with solemn eyes and a small frown, glanced down, "It wasn't that hard."

    "Really? You didn't leave behind anyone you cared about?"

    He glanced behind him, then, enough of a message for all three to know what it meant. Zuko hadn't left anyone behind in his home—he had left his home to find the person he cared most about. Lian. Lian was who he had left his home for. His voice had been what drove him, the thing that pushed him to venture to the vaults and find out who he was. Where he came from. It pushed him to confront his father and then to leave. To do what was right.

    It had been her. All along. Always.

    Zuko grinned, then, the smallest smile. Lian couldn't help it, the rise of heat to her cheeks as she dipped her head, looking away. Glancing between them, Sokka smirked, wagging his eyebrows at the firebender, though he kept his comments and thoughts to himself.

    "Everyone in the Fire Nation thinks I'm a traitor. And, well, this one girl would understand that, I guess." He looked to Lian, her green eyes still avoiding his amber ones. "She was put in a similar situation. And it was my fault. I've felt guilty about it ever since."

    Sokka sighed, then, and sat back down, leaning his back against the wall of the war balloon, looking out towards the clouds. "My first girlfriend turned into the moon."

    "That's rough, buddy."

———

    It had been near silent, then, for hours. While Sokka and Lian dozed off, Zuko had kept them afloat, hidden within the clouds that surrounded them.

    They were woken by the firebender's voice, shouting, "There it is."

    Lian was the first to reach his side, coming to stand next to him. Neither pulled away or said anything as their shoulders brushed, pressed into the other as Sokka joined them.

    "There's plenty of steam to keep us covered. As long as we're quiet, we should be able to navigate through it without being caught."

    And, slowly, Zuko directed them towards the prison, though their plan went quickly astray. Soon, the war balloon began to drop, sinking lower and lower, and fast.

   "We're going down," the Prince pointed out. No matter how hard he tried to keep them in the air, they continued to sink. "The balloon's not working anymore."

    Sokka looked all around. "The air outside is just as hot as the air inside, so we can't fly."

    Lian tipped backward, losing her balance, falling over her heels. She slammed into Zuko, the boy wrapping his arms around her waist to keep them both steady as his back hit the edge of the war balloon. She murmured a quick, "Sorry," earning a quiet, "It's alright."

    He did not let go, and neither did she.

    "So what are we supposed to do?"

    Sokka held on tight, eyes wide. "I don't know. Crash landing?"

    Lian's eyes flickered to the boiling water outside the island, shaking her head. "I can't soften our blow, it'll draw attention to us."

    But just then, they hit the surface of the lake, the hot water spraying all around them. As Sokka was left to avoid it, Zuko curled his body around Lian, shielding her from its heat. They skidded to a rough stop, the balloon toppling over, throwing the three to the shore of the island.

    Lian pushed herself to her feet, brushing herself off, and looked to the destroyed war balloon, and then to the two boys. "How is it that we are supposed to get off of the island now?"

    Sokka shrugged and looked between them. "We'll figure something out. I suspected it might be a one-way ticket."

    "You knew this would happen and you wanted to come anyway?" Zuko asked, eyes wide, but not shocked.

    "My dad might be here. I had to come and see."

    "Uncle always said I never thought things through. But this?" He put his arms out, gesturing to their current predicament. "This is just crazy!"

    As Sokka folded the fabric of the balloon itself into the basket, he turned, looking to Zuko. "Hey, I never wanted you to come along in the first place. I was always going to ask just Lian. And, for the record, I always think things through. But my plans haven't exactly worked. So this time, I'm playing it by ear. So there!"

    As he leaned his hands against the basket of the war balloon, he hissed, the side hot to the touch. He then resorted to kicking it into the lake, shoving it forward with his foot.

    "What are you doing?" Zuko asked, his voice hushed.

    "It doesn't work anyway, and we don't want anyone to find it."

    Lian joined their sides, turning to look up at the prison. "I hope you know what you're doing." She looked at Sokka, then, for answers, her brows furrowed. "What was your plan anyway?"

    And then he gave her a look, one she knew too well.

———

    The two boys, disguised as prison soldiers, held a cuffed Lian between them. Sokka gripped Lian's handcuffs behind her back, while Zuko maintained a hand on her shoulder.

    As they entered a main point to the prison, Sokka shoved Lian forward, the girl, dressed in her nation's colors, throwing him a look over her shoulder. All around them, silence was present. It surrounded them, choked them. Lian stood at the center of it all, her chin held high. She knew the risk of this, coming in as a "captured assailant".

    Guards surrounded her in an instant, others yelling, "It's the Earth Kingdom Princess!" others shouting, "She's a bender, take her to earthbending solitary!"

    They were prepared. They had been waiting for her.

    Hands reached for her, shoving her to the floor. She crashed down, then, her entire body flat to the ground. She could feel people holding down her every limb, one hand even pressed to the back of her head. Her green eyes cast across the surface of the metal floor, finding Sokka and Zuko speaking to other guards. She could hear them, their words, "Someone found her on the mainland, she was alone—"

    "Earth Kingdom coward," a voice hissed in her ear. The man who was holding her head to the ground, she realized. She could feel the weight of his body against her back, his breath on her neck. And then, before she could process it, realize what was happening, a leather muzzle was slipped over her face.

    She shook her head, pulling back, trying to run from it, to escape the embarrassment, the shame. The man gripped the back of her neck, then, causing her entire body to freeze as his hands heated. He was a firebender, she knew. Another person, a woman this time, adjusted and tightened the muzzle, and suddenly all she could hear was her own breathing, her own heartbeat as it echoed in her ears. She could feel her own breath against her face and—

    She was tugged to her feet, the metal cuffs around her hands replaced with a sleeve-like piece of clothing, one that was fitted and tight around her upper body, her arms crossed over her chest. Her feet, then, were secured tightly together with chains.

    As