#how ironic. the dragon's bending warped by the very things that fuel the sozin style of firebending

[discordiansamba]

Two days into their stay the Western Air Temple, Iroh asks if he and the Avatar would like to accompany him on a little field trip. He does not tell them where they would be going, only that he thinks it will be quite the important experience for them both.

They exchange a look and shrug. Sure?

They climb onto Appa, and Iroh takes the reins. He looks excited at the prospect. It's his first time flying the sky bison. He still won't answer any questions as to where they're going, but when their destination finally comes into view, Zuko recognizes it. His uncle taught him about the ancient Sun Warrior ruins- about their civilization, how they were the first ones to learn firebending from the dragons.

He wonders if that's why they're here.

The Avatar still struggles with his firebending. He has a solid form, but his flames have no heat behind them. Zuko is at his wit's end trying to teach him, and the dragon has been no help. He can't apply the lessons it taught him to the Avatar- they're too different. Zuko knows his own firebending is erratic and dangerous, his style defying any conventional teachings.

His uncle lands the sky bison in front of some kind of temple. Zuko exchanges a look with the Avatar. It feels an awful lot like his uncle is waiting for something... or someone. Inside him, he can feel the dragon faintly stir- as if it senses something. Zuko's unsure what.

He gets his answers before long. The Sun Warriors are still around, and apparently, his Uncle knows them. This... shouldn't surprise him as much as it should. The firebending his uncle tried to teach him wasn't anything like the firebending his palace instructors had taught him. They must be Sun Warrior forms.

(The Sun Warriors look at him, and whisper.)

Uncle tells their chief that he has brought his nephew and the Avatar here to see the Masters. He looks upon them for a long moment, before he slowly nods. He and the Avatar are brought to the Eternal Flame- and Zuko can feel the dragon within him react to its presence. He lets the dragon bleed into him, as the chief hands them their piece of the flame.

(In their hands, it turns golden.)

They follow a path into the mountains, the Avatar nervous all the while. Zuko can feel the heat under their skin, as if there is fire in their veins, not blood. They ascend a long staircase, and wait. Zuko can hear their heart pound in their chest, their humanshape feeling awkward and unwieldy.

The Masters are dragons.

For as long as he has known it, the dragon has never cried. They both do now, breath caught in their throat as they stare at their own kin. It feels impossible- the dragons are gone. They have always known this. They are the last, as much as they count as one when they are bound to a human shape.

The flames they show them are heartbreakingly beautiful.

Oh, they both think, this is how it is supposed to be.

When it is over, the Avatar gives his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. He leaves him alone with the Masters. One at a time, the two dragons press their muzzles up against him, and he rests his hands on them, feeling their warmth.

These are his kin.

They invite him to join them. Shed his human shape. But he looks back down at his Uncle and the Avatar and shakes his head. He is a dragon, but he is also Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation. He's needed here.

(Iroh watches his nephew descend the stairs, changed.)

Azula visits him in his cell.

He knows she's coming before she arrives. He can hear the guards at the door try and dissuade her. His sister snaps at them, angry. How dare they stand in her way, when she knows that they let Mai through. They relent, and Azula steps into his cell.

She crinkles her nose at the smell. He's less filthy than he was before thanks to Mai, but only just. She meets his eyes- and for just a moment, her breath catches. Zuko's tempted to start growling, just to see what would happen. The dragon goads him on, but he decides against it.

"What do you want?"

She obviously didn't expect him to speak. When he does, she exhales, and she's back to the normal Azula.

"I see you're back to your usual self," Azula observed, "-I suppose we have Mai to thank for that. I hear she's been visiting you."

"Upset you'll have a harder time executing us?" Zuko asked. "Or is father the one who plans to do the honors?"

Azula flinches- it's obvious that she didn't expect him to know about that. He doesn't blame her. She must have assumed he didn't have the presence of mind to understand anyone when he'd been paraded through the Caldera like a chained beast.

(He had been, he supposes.)

"Father, of course," Azula recovers, "-it's only fitting that the Fire Lord should slay the last of the dragons."

Zuko bares his fangs. "What makes you think we'll go down so easily?"

Azula huffs, and rolls her eyes. "You should just make it easy on yourself, Zuko. I would think you'd be grateful to be released from your miserable excuse for an existence."

Yeah. He can't deny that some small part of him still longs for that. But he thinks of Uncle, and of Mai- thinks of his friends. They'd all seen him at his worst, but they accepted him anyways. And she's right- if he dies, the dragons really will be gone. He's spent years chafing at the confines of the prison that is his body, but maybe it doesn't have to be one.

Azula never looks him in the eye anymore. He levels his gaze with hers, but she takes it as the challenge it is, and doesn't look away.

"And what would you do," Zuko said, "-if it comes for you next?"

His sister pales. He shouldn't be enjoying this. He's not stupid- he figured it out a long time ago. He knows Azula blames herself. She hadn't known the consequences when she'd shoved him into that cave- she'd only been six. She was just playing a petty, jealous prank. All she'd wanted was to go back to the villa and lap up mother's attention for a few hours.

He also won't lie to himself. He blames Azula- but only sometimes. She was just a child. They'd both been children. But he also can't pretend that he's not bitter, vengeful in a way that has nothing to do with the spirit that took up residence in his skin. She'd taken everything from him- just like her namesake had taken everything from the dragon.

"Don't worry," Zuko promises, "-when you're running a fever that high, you don't even notice your body twist out of shape."

"Shut up," Azula snaps, "-I would never let that happen."

"You wouldn't have a choice," Zuko says, "-did you think I did? You can't fight something like that. You'll be lucky if the dragon decides to ever give you your body back. It's not like Uncle's here to guide you."

(He's not quite himself right now, otherwise he would never be saying these things. But he doesn't stop. He holds the dragon at bay, but only just.)

"Be quiet," Azula hisses, "-I would never become like you."

"No, you won't," Zuko agrees, "-because I don't intend to die."

Azula stares at them for a long moment, then clicks her tongue. She leaves without another word, and Zuko exhales. He shakes off the dragon, its whispers falling back into silence. He feels like he's finally won, but it doesn't feel as good as he hoped it would.

He doesn't hate Azula. He can't.

(It was as much a warning as anything else. Killing him would only free the dragon- and leave it free to search for its next host

Who better than Azulon's very namesake?)