Content: Jet being a bad boyfriend, lowkey a bad chapter lmao, Iroh being a dad, female friendships
(a/n: jet is heavily based off my last ex bf so it's legit just me venting this chapter lol)
wc: 3.7k
m. list
Jet took you to some nighttime market in the middle ring after hitching a ride on the back of a fruit wagon. You attempt to keep your giggles quiet as Jet joked so neither of you would get caught and thrown off, but it’s harder than it looks. Especially since it’s harder not to giggle when the boy you’re with is bad as fuck.
“This seems more respectable than where we’ve been living,” you comment, following the older boy through the crowd.
“Respectable?” Jet snorts, turning back to look at you, “You sound like a princess, Tako.”
“How does that make me sound like a princess?” You ask, head tilted as you cheekily smile at him. “I’m simply making an observation, Jet.”
“Respectable sounds like a princess thing to say,” he shrugs, “Besides, the lower ring is the most respectable. Since we have to fight for everything we have.” Jet pulls you towards a stand with swords displayed. “These folks are too comfortable.”
The word ‘comfortable’ doesn’t land like it used to. Not really.
Comfortable was when you were home or with Azula. Uncomfortable was living in shit and being with the two people who dragged you into it. The middle ground was something you couldn’t name, like now. You couldn’t say whether you were comfortable or uncomfortable right now.
You didn’t trust Jet fully, but you didn't resent him. For your brother and uncle, it was the opposite.
“I would rather be comfortable,” you mutter while Jet picks up a thinner sword from its stand.
“What kinda sword do you fight with?” He asks, twirling the metal around despite the protests of the merchant. “Or is that just a prop?”
Your brow furrows at the assumption. “I hand-crafted this sword so it would fit me perfectly. It’s the only one of its kind.”
“Now I’m really starting to think you’re a princess,” Jet teases. “Tell me, which refugee ferry is your domain?”
You roll your eyes at the joke and force a smile in an attempt to cover your offense. “How did you know?” you reply curtly.
“Does your brother train?” Jet asks suddenly, putting the sword he borrowed back in its place. “He looked like he knew how to use his.”
“He was one of the best in our village,” you lie, knowing damn well the ranking was only between you and your older siblings. “Though, he could never beat our sister.”
“That implies that he can beat you,” he smirks, but you roll your eyes and ignore him.
Jet takes your hand and pulls you away from the stand back into the crowd, you chalk up his lack of questions on your sister to him assuming that she died which saves you from having to lie some more.
He brings you to a jewelry stand filled with rings and bracelets and a large selection of carved betrothal necklaces. Jet takes one of the bracelets off the display and twirls it around his finger. “You seem like the kind of girl who likes this kinda stuff,” he says, tossing it to you.
You catch the bracelet and inspect it, immediately clocking that it’s a type of common metal covered in a thick layer of mineral paste to resemble gold. You throw a small smile Jet’s way, “I do like jewelry, but not this kind.”
“Yeah, okay princess,” he jokes, but he lands more as an indirect way of calling you a brat.
Your gaze travels to the supposedly betrothal necklaces as Jet begins talking about something Smellerbee said earlier (that you don't really care about).
A round face pops into your mind. Ejo, your arranged fiancé, was ordered to make you one of these once he turned thirteen and he honestly did a good job. You just never wore it and no one ever scorned you over it.
Ejo wasn’t important to you or your family, it was just a quick ploy to make you seem like a prize despite having little worth as a non-bender.
Being with Jet didn’t make you feel guilty because Ejo did similar things. During your time with Azula’s troops, you caught him talking about a little girlfriend from his academy. Besides, you were already plotting to cut the engagement off after Azula successfully recruited you to hunt down the Avatar.
You understand that Ejo would never have chosen you willingly. You wouldn’t have chosen him either.
With Jet, it was different. You would have never chosen him, but his smooth ways and consistency keep pulling you back in. Almost like you found yourself enjoying being liked.
You follow Jet through the market once more, talking about aimless things before you both hitch a ride on the back of a fruit wagon to take you both home.
The night has finally settled as you both walk down the streets with your hand intertwined with his. It was nice to have a boy like you so much.
“Thanks for taking me out,” you say, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as you look up at him. “It’s been nice to get out.”
“I should be the one thanking you,” Jet says with a smirk. “I had the first good night in a while.”
“Yeah, me too.”
A beat passes before Jet slowly leans down and presses his lips to yours. Your eyes widen at the action, but you don’t say anything and melt into the sentiment.
He pulls away after a moment and uses his hands to balance you. “Good night, Tako. Same time tomorrow?”
You nod your head as he begins to walk away, the heat in your cheeks rendering you speechless.
And for the first time since you got to Ba Sing Se, you’ve liked being Tako. Maybe even a little more than (...).
.
You’re in bed in the Fire Nation, where you should be so late at night, but it looks bigger than you remember it.
The blankets are too stuffy and you don’t want to go to sleep, so you get up and wander the great halls of your home. Though you would never admit it out loud to Iroh, you pat towards Azula’s room.
Rubbing your sleepy eyes, you spot your mom leaning down to kiss a sleeping Azula.
She doesn’t look how she usually does: with a big cloak, missing her favorite hairpin, and face concealed by shadow.
“Mama?” You yawn, causing your mother to snap her head towards you.
“Baby,” she replies, tiptoeing her way towards you.
“Where are you going?” You ask, reaching grabby hands towards her and resting against her shoulder when she places you on her hip.
Your mother pauses for a moment before smiling down at you and patting your back. “Remember your gentle spirit, my love,” she pauses before continuing, “Don’t be corrupted.”
You don’t take her words to heart.
You should have.
“I love you, my girl,” Your mother says as she kisses your temple before placing you next to a sleeping Azula.
“I love you too, mama.”
You didn’t see your mother ever again after that. Only in the immortal image of her in portraits did you ever glimpse at what she did look like.
The palace still seems so big even though you’ve grown over the past few years, though the walls impose like they always do.
You overheard the maids’ whispers as they echoed through the halls. They spoke before hushing each other once they noticed you but you paid them no mind. Azula came with news from the war meeting (that none of the royal children were invited to) to briefly explain that Father needed an audience without clarifying any further.
You’ve learned very quickly not to ask questions when Azula’s silent.
With a doll dangling loosely from your fingers, you're ushered to stand next to your uncle while your older brother stands proudly atop a stage with a minuscule amount of clothes.
You glance at Azula before looking up at Zuko. With your brows furrowing with confusion, you demand to know, “What’s going on?”
“Brother spoke out of turn during a meeting. Father said it was a great act of disrespect,” Azula informed, crossing her arms over her chest.
“But what does that mean?” You hold the doll closer to you tightly, “Why is Father standing there too?”
“Because it’s an Agni Kai, Dumb-Dumb,” Azula says.
“Against Father?”
“Against Father.”
Zuko turns around, his vest falling slowly to the ground, his eyes widen and his hands begin to tremble as he realizes what was happening.
“Please, Father,” your brother starts, throwing himself onto the ground, “I only had the Fire Nation’s best interests at heart. I’m sorry I spoke out of turn.”
Your father doesn’t answer right away as he slowly strides closer towards Zuko, his face hidden by the shadows cast from the illuminating fire. “You will fight for your honor,” he finally says.
“I meant you no disrespect,” Zuko pressed his forehead to the ground, as his voice wobbled with every word, “I am your loyal son.”
“Rise and fight, Prince Zuko!” Father demands boom throughout the room, earning a wince from you. Iroh gently placed an arm over your shoulder and you didn't protest.
“I won’t fight you.” Zuko’s statement is unmoving and final.
“You will learn respect,” Father stands directly in front of Zuko, “And suffering will be your teacher.”
Iroh moves quickly to use his hands to cover your eyes, scaring just enough that you crush your doll against your chest, forcing its head to snap off and bounce onto the cold, marble floors.
The sound of wood clattering on the ground mixes with the screams of your older brother and a few snickers from the generals who stood behind you.
You don’t expect to see Zuko wandering through the halls, not after what happened, but he’s there. In front of you and burnt and trembling.
The scar is the first thing you see. Loud and mean. Barking at you to look at it.
What little remains of your doll slips from your little hands to the ground as previous tears bubble back up and down your cheeks.
“What?!” Zuko screams, his pre-pubescent voice cracking. That was the first time he’s ever yelled at you. “What are you looking at?!”
You step back but trip over your own feet.
His face was branded into your memory: The angry red of the initial burn runs all the way to his ear, having burnt off chunks of his hair along the side of his head, and white blisters begin to decorate the edge.
Zuko closes in on you, grabbing your arm to drag you towards him. The heat from his hands stings, but it isn’t enough to scar you. Not this time. You cry out, but it’s barely enough to make him stop.
His fist rises before swinging down and—
“Uncle made breakfast.”
You shoot up and press a hand to your cheek, but you feel nothing. Sweat collects on the back of your neck and you move your hand to wipe it off.
“(...),” Zuko pokes his head in through the door, not noticing your distress. “Uncle made breakfast.”
“Yeah. I’ll be there,” you reply dryly, rubbing your eyes as you try to hide the small tear that escaped.
Last night you were transformed into what the city of Ba Sing Se was looking for: a tragic, lovesick refugee rising from the rubble of what was your old life in the palace. And it was way better than you thought it would be.
Ba Sing Se was a new beginning, even though you initially hated it. Your old life was gone, or rather you chose to ignore it.
.
The tea shop remained just as plain, if not more plain, than on your first day. Not to mention that the universe kept sending the same three men to your tea shop. The only thing keeping you from going crazy was your late-night dates with Jet, which became a constant that you couldn't get enough of.
Jet was slowly becoming a lot of your firsts: first kiss, first date, first boy that you actually enjoyed being around, and the first person other than Azula that you followed.
He'd often stop by the tea shop, where he'd come to get tea but end up talking to you the whole time. Though, you've begun to notice how much he asks about Lee and how often he ignores you to talk to Lee.
Of course, you don’t say anything. It was normal for boys to want to talk to each other and, besides, Jet really wanted your brother to be one of his Freedom Fighters.
Jet was your boyfriend and he just wanted to be friends with Lee. Or so you tried to convince yourself.
But it was fine! Whenever Jet notices when he ignores you for Lee, and he always comes back with flowers or candies or jewelry delivered by your front door or to the tea shop to beg for your forgiveness.
Lee and Mushi started telling you to break up with him, but what do they know?
Iroh let the mother of his child go and Zuko hadn’t seen Mai in years.
They didn't know anything about real relationships and they didn't know anything about Jet. Ther advice was pointless.
Back in the tea shop, the only genuinely good customer (besides Jet) was a girl named Jin, a fellow refugee. You chalked her constant visits to having a crush on your brother, you’ve seen a pattern among the girls around your age, but spoke to her nonetheless. It was better than being stuck strictly talking with two meatheads all day. And she wasn’t a jerk, so brownie points!
“No jasmine, huh?” You ask, a small tray full of cups much lighter after working for a few weeks. “And you’re only having one cup today?
“Only one,” she replies with a small smile. “I'm actually here for more than just the tea.”
“Right,” you give her a knowing look, “Just know, he really is a piece of work.”
As you walk to the back, Jin gets up and makes her way towards the counter where your brother and uncle stand.
“Thank you for the tea,” Jin says, giving the money to Lee. He turns her back to him to sort the money but she suddenly asks, “What’s your name?”
“My name’s Lee,” he starts. “My uncle, sister, and I just moved here.”
You poke your head out from the back and listen to the conversation when you should be making tea.
“Hi Lee, my name’s Jin. Thank you, and I was wondering if you would like to go out sometime.”
You glance at your uncle, who then slides up next to Lee and smiles. “He’d love to!”
“Great!” Jin smiles. “I’ll meet you in front of the shop at sundown.”
You give your brother a thumbs up while Mushi smiles at him, earning both of you a glare.
“Uncle, does that mean I can go on a date with that Jet boy?” You ask, using this as an excuse to possibly cover up any mistakes you’ve left when sneaking out.
“You’ll go out with him no matter what I say,” Mushi chuckles. “You already do almost every other night.”
Lee’s face twists in confusion. “What do you mean? I would’ve heard her if she left.”
“Give your sister some credit,” Your uncle says, “The little lady snuck around without me knowing the first few times.”
You smile proudly to yourself before asking, “So can I? There’s a restaurant Jet said he’d take me to.”
“You shouldn’t hang out with someone like that,” Lee intervenes. “That guy’s already trouble.”
“Let her figure that out,” Mushi pats Lee’s back and smiles, “Of course, but be home at a reasonable time. That goes for both of you.”
.
Jet doesn’t take you to a restaurant. You totally lied about that.
That’s how you found yourself in an alleyway with your hands on his chest and his hand lying loosely on your hip. You’ve already made out twice and you both were running out of things to do.
“What did you overhear?” Jet asks. “You mentioned that you overheard something in the train station yesterday when we were out.”
“Oh.” The question catches you off guard. You didn’t want to think about the Avatar, you wanted to hang out with your boyfriend but whatever. You could just do that later. “I heard that they were coming to Ba Sing Se.”
“Is that it?” Jet’s face twists in something that sits between confusion and irritation.
“What else do you want, Jet?” You push yourself off of him. “Why are you so interested in the Avatar?”
“He and his gang could help us take down the Fire Nation,” He says, like it's obvious. Like the Fire Nation is just pure evil. You’ve learned Jet does that. You’ve learned that he’s easy to believe.
“We live in Ba Sing Se,” you cross your arms, “The Fire Nation won’t reach us here. They tried once and failed. Jet, we shouldn’t concern ourselves with the war.”
Jet’s face scrunches up with disgust, as if you had just killed a turtle-duck in front of him. “We’re refugees, Tako, the war should concern us a lot!” He grabs your hand and pushes your sleeve up, revealing the burn that’s begun to scar around your wrist. “Look at what the Fire Nation has done to you! Look at what it's done to Lee!”
You yank your arm back and step further away from him. “That’s the past, Jet! Look around, there is so much more to worry about!”
“Really?” Jet almost deflates, but his anger remains. “The Fire Nation put you here in the first place and you’re just gonna sit around and be okay with it?”
You bite your bottom lip as you think of a response, but Jet beats you to it.
“You’re not Fire Nation… are you?” You watch as he places his hand over the hilt of one of his swords. “The three of you do have Fire Nation features. But what would Fire Nation be doing in Ba Sing Se?”
You grip onto your blade and glare at Jet. “We’re still refugees, Jet.”
Your boyfriend pulls out both of his swords and you follow with yours. You didn't want to fight him, but you weren’t dumb enough not to have something to protect yourself.
Jet swings sporadically, immediately putting you on the defensive. You block and parry his attacks, like you were taught, but he keeps going.
“Jet, stop it!” You grunt, successfully parrying him as you shove him back with a kick to his stomach.
“You’re Fire Nation, Tako!” He swings away and you barely dodge. “I can't believe I trusted you!”
Your scowl softens at his words, but you remain in your trained strength.
“I’m still me, Jet.”
“No—” He lands a hit to your cheek with his right sword, causing blood to begin running down your face and onto your clothes.
Before you could attack him back, he was shoved off of you by a seemingly invisible force. You later discover that Jet was held down with cuffs made of rocks. A group of four men in fancy, practical outfits then take him away.
He yells at you over and over: “She’s Fire Nation! She’s Fire Nation!” but they ignore him.
People stuck their heads out from their windows and doors to watch the commotion, but not one person made any sign that they were going to help you.
The eyes of bystanders shift from Jet to you once he’s pulled away far enough.
With your chest heavy with shame and adrenaline still pumping through your veins, hot tears mix with the blood as you turn and run all the way back to your home.
Maybe Ba Sing Se wasn’t for you after all.
.
“I thought I said come home at a reasonable hour,” Iroh teases before looking up from the paperwork scattered on the table. His brows immediately furrow and his eyes widen as you come fully into view.
With the little energy you have left, you patter over to your uncle and sit down in front of him with your head hung low.
“What happened?” He asks much softer, his hands reaching out to soak up the blood and tears from your face, thumb tracing over your cheekbones. ‘That boy didn’t do anything, did he?”
You don’t respond, you're too tired and you can hardly think straight. Iroh understands, knowing that you couldn't have gotten hurt from a simple date, and takes your silence as a sign he shouldn’t ask questions anymore.
Uncle makes sure you’re stable before getting up to rummage through one of the few cabinets in the kitchen. He finds medical tape (used to help Zuko’s tea-burnt fingers) and a clean cloth.
Iroh sits back in front of you and gently takes your jaw into his calloused hand. The gesture is soft and inviting, different from what you’re used to.
Touch always demanded something of you and the rare occasions it didn’t, it was to help you. This was one of those rare occasions, though there hasn't been anyone besides your late mother to hold you so tenderly.
With his other hand, Iroh wipes away the blood and grime on your injured cheek. The cut wasn't very deep, not enough to scar but Iroh assumed that it wasn't the cut that had you like this. You were stronger than that.
Iroh lets go of your face to rip off a piece of the tape, using his other hand to cut off a little bit of gauze and hold it to the cut— it’s already stopped bleeding— and taping it down.
“We should get you to bed,” Iroh states, earning a small sniffle from you.
You wipe your eyes and swallow down any more tears before they get out of hand while Iroh wipes the rest off the corner of your eyes.
“I’m sure none of this is easy for you.”
“I just want to go home.” Your voice cracks on the last word.
“I know,” he whispers. “We all do and we all will. Soon enough.”
taglist: @ita606
border credit: strangergraphics
question: should jet live? i haven't decided and i have two separate outlines to what could happen if he does or doesn't but im struggling to choose so gimme y'all's opinions!
Okay so I couldn’t wait to watch the leak movie (yes omg ik im burning in hell for that) but I’ve seen the series five times and am on my sixth rewatch. How many times do y’all think im gonna watch the movie when it comes to paramount???
Content: Sibling beef, mentioned misogyny, Jet is in to the reader (omg yea ik this is a sokka fic but drama needs to happen)
(a/n: jet is getting with both siblings at some point but like not officially so no one has the right to be mad at each other. Yes yes)
wc: 3.2k
m.list
“So, Mister Lee, Miss Tako, and Mister, um… ‘Mushy,’ is it?”
“It’s pronounced ‘Moo-shi.”
You and Zuko stand on either side of Iroh while he does whatever to make sure you have safe passage into the city. Which happened to be a lot.
“You telling me how to do my job?” The lady stamping passports asks, her brow raised.
“Uh, no, no, no,” Iroh steps closer to the lady’s booth before leaning on it, “But may I say, you’re like a flower in bloom. Your beauty is intoxicating.”
Both you and Zuko exchange quick, grossed-out looks.
“You’re pretty easy on the eyes yourself, handsome,” the lady winks, “Rawr.”
You bite your bottom lip to refrain from letting a cackle escape you. When you look over to your right, Zuko’s face just deflates.
“Welcome to Ba Sing Se,” the lady says, finally stamping your passports.
“I’m gonna forget I saw that.” Zuko snatches the passports out of Iroh’s hands before walking away.
Jet notices the three of you from where he stood in line, his piece of wheat moving with every word he says. “I think Lee and his sister would make good freedom fighters,” he says. “They’re just trying to find their way in the world, like us.”
“You don’t know anything about them, Jet,” Smellerbee interjects.
“Well I know Lee didn’t get that scar from a water bender,” Jet smirks, “And that Tako chick's got this faint burn mark on her wrist.”
“Besides, I thought we were going straight now.” She protests.
“We are, and the new Freedom Fighters could use a pair like that,” Jet turns his head, “What do you think, Longshot?” Longshot doesn't do anything but move to face Jet and blink slowly. “Yeah, I can respect that.”
The train station was huge and thankfully not as crowded as the ship, giving you a little more room to breathe.
You haven’t seen Shi and Peto yet; you silently hope that they made it. You might be able to pull some strings for them if you try hard enough, but then your cover will be blown. So you decide to stay with your uncle and brother, but keep your eyes peeled just in case.
You spot one of the refugee workers speaking to an older couple, using the excuse of needing to stretch your legs, you walk just close enough to hear them, concealing yourself behind a large pillar.
“I wouldn't usually disclose this, so you must keep quiet,” the worker mumbles, earning a nod out of the older couple. “But I overheard that the Avatar is traveling to Ba Sing Se. The two of you are in good hands and I wish you both well on your trip.”
You walk back to your family before the worker can see you, keeping the information to yourself in case withholding it earns you a favor.
Later, while you're playing with the hem of your sleeve, Jet slides in right next to you. His shoulder bumps yours and his face is inches away from yours. “So, you guys got plans once you're inside the city?” He asks.
“Not that I know of,” you murmur, turning your face away, “They never let me know what they’re going to do.”
“Get your hot tea here! Finest tea in Ba Sing Se!” A merchant yells, prancing along happily.
Iroh raises his hand to wave, grabbing the man’s attention. “Oh, Jasmine, please!” He exclaims before turning to you and asking, “Would you like any?”
You contemplate for a moment before ultimately nodding. When the man gives you a cup, you immediately notice the lack of steam. Iroh spits out the drink after sipping it and you hand your cup over to Zuko, who then hands it to Iroh.
“Coldest tea in Ba Sing Se is more like it,” your uncle complains. “What a disgrace!”
“Hey, can I talk to you for a second?” Jet asks, looking past you and making eye contact with your brother. Zuko sighs but ultimately stands up to follow Jet.
You move closer to your uncle and hit his arm the moment you start to see the liquid in his cup bubbling. “Quit that,” you snap. “You’ll give us away.”
Iroh sighs and puts the tea cups down. “Go listen to what that boy is telling your brother, he seems a little shady.” You nod before getting up and following Zuko to where he stands with Jet.
“You wanna join the Freedom Fighters?” You overhear Jet ask.
“Thanks, but I don’t think you want me in your gang,” Zuko replies, shifting so you’re able to stand next to him without being covered. You creep your arms around one of Zuko’s, what he’s learned is your way of telling him to stay put and listen.
“C’mon, we made a great team looting the captain’s food,” Jet keeps going, “Think of all the good we could do for these refugees.”
“I said no,” Zuko turns his back and walks away, shaking free of your grasp. You turn to usher Zuko back— Jet would have been a great way to gain information about the war— but it's no use.
“Zu—” You pause and correct yourself, “Lee, he has a good point.”
Your brother glares at you over his shoulder and goes to sit down next to Iroh instead.
“My brother is not much for conversation. I apologize on his behalf.” You say, “I’m sure he’s just upset from the situation.”
“Don’t,” Jet adjusts the wheat in his mouth, “He said what he meant. That can take real guts.”
You’re not sure how to respond.
“Y’know, the offer still stands. For Lee and you,” He informs. “If either of you ever want to, that is.”
“I’ll remember that,” you reply, a small smile forming on your face.
“I'll stick around,” Jet shifts the wheat with his teeth, “You won't be getting rid of me anytime soon.”
Jet holds your gaze for longer than he’s supposed to before you turn and head back to your brother and uncle. Like you’re supposed to.
Zuko raises a brow, through the weeks he’s gotten to know you better, seeing you smile was an odd sight. “You didn’t join his gang did you?” He asks.
You shake your head. “No, but he did say he would stick around.” You glance back while Jet walks back to his gang. “He’s not a bad guy. Maybe he could help us more than Zuzu would like to think.”
“Nothing wrong with making allies. You’ll learn that on the battlefield." Iroh says, folding his arms into his sleeves.
“Yeah, right,” Zuko scoffs.
.
You stroll through the unfamiliar market with the same grace you have with everything while Zuko remains sulking next to you. Iroh had stopped at several shops while you and Zuko remained walking. When your uncle catches up to you, he’s holding a large flower pot.
“I just want our new place to look nice in case someone brings home a lady friend,” he teases, elbowing Zuko before glancing at you. “Or a guy friend.”
“This city is a prison,” Zuko sighs. “I don’t want to make a life here.”
“Life happens wherever you are, whether you make it or not,” Iroh exclaims. “Now come on, I found us some new jobs and we start this afternoon.”
By the time you put what little you have into the one-bedroom apartment you could barely afford, you’re already making your way to the little tea shop Uncle wouldn't quit raving about.
“Well,” the owner begins, “You certainly look like official tea servers. How do you feel?”
“Ridiculous,” Zuko deadpans.
“Not… cute,” you groan, picking at the stained fabric like it was disease-ridden.
“Uh, does this possibly come in a larger size?” Iroh struggles to tie the apron around him fully.
“I have extra string in the back,” The owner pours three tea cups before standing up, “Have some tea while you wait.”
You take the offered cup and wait for the owner to turn his back before sniffing the drink cautiously, which ends up being the right move when Iroh’s face twists in disgust after one sip.
“You seriously have to stop drinking anything offered to you,” you mumble under your breath.
“Bleh! This tea is nothing more than hot leaf juice!” Iroh declares.
“Uncle,” Zuko rolls his eyes, “That’s what all tea is.”
“How could a member of my own family say something so horrible?” Iroh grabs the nearest kettle and takes it to dump it outside. “We’ll have to make some major changes around here.”
“Whatever you say, Uncle,” you sigh.
.
Serving tea took more patience than you initially thought.
Customer service was a nightmare. A really eye-opening nightmare.
You weren’t sure if the guys walking into your store were real or if they were lobotomized in the alleyway before walking in. There was hardly a sliver of common sense or common courtesy from any of these grown-ass people.
And you had been here only four hours.
Four hours
In the palace, people knew how to talk to you. With complete sentences and appropriate words or they didn't speak to you at all. You assumed this was a universal standard. You're learning that it's not.
In the middle of your first shift, a group of three men had made their way into the shop with the poise of businessmen. Nothing you haven't seen before during economic meetings with Azula. You've spent years being invisible in a room with them. You know how they move.
Simply, you didn't think much of it.
“Welcome to the Pao Family tea house,” you pitch, like your boss had instructed you to do, with the least amount of pleasantness you could get away with without slowly killing yourself. After four hours, you've learned that almost none of these people deserve to see you genuinely smiling. “Is there anything I could get you started with?”
“How… progressive,” one of the men comments, eyeing you like you were a mildly interesting piece of furniture. “I thought women would be the ones brewing the tea, not playing waiter.”
Your lip twitches.
Playing waiter?
Right. Not like you're a Fire Nation princess who was forced into this situation because your dipshit of a brother chose to hold you hostage. Not like you've sat through war councils or military debriefings with men twice as old and muscular as the rather round ones sitting in front of you. Not like you've chosen to eat slop and sleep on the floor because you almost feel bad for Zuko and Iroh (and also because you refuse to give anyone the pleasure of seeing you uncomfortable).
But nope. You're just playing waiter for fun.
“How wonderful,” you mumble with the decaying resistance of someone who could lay out all three of these men without breaking a sweat. “What can I get for you?”
“Whatever’s fastest,” another says, already looking away from you. “And tell the scar boy to bring the tea out. I prefer to be served by someone who knows their place.”
Your grip on your tray is enough to almost snap the crappy metal in half.
No one should speak like that to you.
You open your mouth.
“Gentlemen!”
Iroh comes out from the back with the same smile he wears when he's managing but wants it to look like he's just being friendly. He pats your back with the attitude of someone who's been watching the scene unfold and has calculated when he should intervene.
“What a pleasure to have such distinguished guests!” he exclaims. “Oh, I must apologize for my niece. She's not used to this profession and is still learning that a woman’s most valuable trait is knowing when to let men do the talking. Isn't that right?”
Iroh gives you a look.
You give him a mean look.
He continues smiling but his eyes contain a certain softness as if to say, “I know. I know exactly what I just said. Play along or we'll sleep in the streets.”
You bite back the urge to throw insults and smile instead. It's not a good smile. In fact, it's the worst smile you've ever put on but it works so you don't care. “Of course, Uncle,” you say, “How silly of me.”
You go to fetch their tea, accidentally purposely kicking over one of the men’s bags as you leave.
In the back, you place the cups on the tray with precision. You refuse to break anything in front of them.
Zuko appears in the doorway with a certain look on his face.
“You need to take this,” you point to your tray, “To the jerks Uncle’s talking to.”
“Okay,” he replies nonchalantly.
“Spirits of the islands!” you exacerbate, irritation beginning to fry your nerves. “Did you not hear how they spoke to me? Shouldn't you— oh, I dunno— defend me or something? Isn't that what older brothers are supposed to do?”
“Last time I checked, I don't owe you anything,” he says dismissively, pushing you out of the way so he can get to the tray.
“Watch that tone with me,” your voice lowers, “The only reason you and Uncle aren't rotting away in a Fire Nation prison right now is because I haven't said anything.”
Zuko pauses, his shoulders tensing as his head snaps to look at you. He glares at you, the same glare that makes him look older than he really is.
“Talk to me like that again and all of those dirt eaters will know just who you are, Zuzu.”
He left without a word and you got a different tray.
The men stayed for two hours.
“Whatever’s quickest,” you mimic after your third time refilling their cups.
Iroh stayed talking to the businessmen with the peace of someone who had accepted that it's okay for someone else to think you're weak.
You watched and didn't say what you wanted to because there wasn't anyone to defend what you said, only someone to make up an excuse that makes you look stupid so you get off easy. The only difference between this tea shop and the war rooms is that one has an Azula and one doesn't.
Back at the palace, you were in shoes that made you taller, robes that made you look important, and had an older sister who didn't tolerate disrespect.
Here all you have is a tray and whatever was left after having your dignity thrown into a pit of acid and shredded to pieces.
A lone woman came in after the men left, with the clothes and posture of someone who had been working all day and was trying to find peace before they had to go back.
You approach her before Iroh could. To save her from the flirt that was your uncle and to refresh yourself with a much better customer experience.
“Welcome to Pao Family's tea shop, what can I get for you today?” You ask.
She looks up from the table, taking in your face. “Whatever’s available the fastest.”
“There should be a pot of Jasmine brewing right now,” you say. “I’ll be out with it in a moment.”
The woman was much more appreciative than the men, as you learned most women are.
You don't make the woman wait or attempt to kick over her bag, you just give her the drink and move on with your life.
By the time the sun began to set and the owner had left: Iroh was closing, Zuko was wiping tables, and you were counting tip money (and occasionally stealing from the register, but no one stops you).
Your mind drifted thanks to the monotonous task, which ultimately led you back to Azula. All your trains of thought do.
Azula would have burnt all of those men or somehow would've gotten Father to banish them.
You furrowed your brow and grabbed another few extra coins from where you shouldn't and slammed them onto the counter.
Those men should have been banished. Not only for treating you like that, but for having the audacity to even think about doing in the first place.
Iroh appears next to you, the look on his face more genuine than before. “You did well today,” he says, patting your shoulder.
“The best thing I did was something I didn't do,” you huff.
“That's a good thing,” he puts a few coins back into the register, “Just finish the day off strong by not taking too much.”
.
Once you come home, you immediately hurry to the sink and dip your face into the cool water before coming back out.
“If those guys come back, I might actually start a fight,” you mumble to yourself.
Zuko sighs. “You won't.”
“Oh, she definitely will,” Iroh chuckles. “It's a blessing she didn't level all of Ba Sing Se Azula-style after that.”
“I'm taking a shower,” you huff. “My hair’s the greasiest it's ever been.”
Zuko and Iroh leave you be, allowing you the shabby bath that's probably leaking into your downstairs neighbor’s space.
The water was freezing and you only stayed in there for five minutes before getting out and changing back into the single pair of change-out clothes you had.
Thanks for selling my good clothes, assholes.
Zuko knocks before entering what was supposed to be your shared bedroom. “Uncle’s asking if you want any tea.”
“We just got done working in a tea shop all day,” you snort, using your hairpin as a makeshift comb.
“That's what I said,” he shuffles awkwardly, “Anyway, Uncle also made some dumplings. You should probably eat before going to bed.”
Later that night as you lie in bed— full enough to be content for the first time since forever— you hear a tapping at your window.
Zuko doesn't move, though you assume that's because he's exhausted from the lack of sleep stemming from him and Iroh taking night shifts while on the ship. You don't go to wake him, instead reaching for your sword as you tiptoe your way over.
Through the glass, you see the pearlescent color of a toothy grin. You hurry and crack open the window, only to find Jet standing on top of a very wobbly ladder.
“Jet?” You whisper.
The boy only chuckles. “I told you I wasn't going anywhere and I meant it.”
“Why the hell are you at my house?”
“I got something to show you,” he says through a toothy grin, grabbing onto a water pipe as he kicks the ladder away from him, leaving him to dangle nonchalantly from your windowsill. “Can't just leave a guy hanging, can you?”
You giggle at the sheer stupidity, earning a sniffle from a sleeping Zuko, but soon open the window wider so you can stick your head outside. “How are you going to get down?”
Jet draws one of his swords with his other arm and sticks the curved end into a rope coming from the roof and uses his arm to pull himself so he's at eye level with you. “I can show you,” he says, offering his hand.
You pause, surveying your options before eventually taking his hand, being tugged into his arms, and slowly dropping a whole story.
When your feet hit the ground, you step away from him and whisper breathlessly, “This is such a bad idea.”
“It's not a bad idea when you're with me,” Jet snickers, taking your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours. “Come on, I promise it won't be.”
“Fine,” you feel your whole face heat up at the attention, “But you're explaining this to my uncle if I get in trouble.”
“Don't worry, you'll be back before he even notices you're gone.”
I LOVE GAANG SMM!! And yes, Suki is part of gaang. I can’t stand the suki under representation. I love my queen sm. ALL CREDITS TO THE ARTIST!! @schwesterchiz in Insta
