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Speechless	By : Premerseahshiko Category: Avatar - The Last Airbender > AU/AR - Alternate Universe/Alternate Reality > Slash - Male/Male Views: 3810 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar and do not make any profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Speechless
- 2-Chapter 2
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Speechless Chapter Two

Agni’s light had just begun to set over the iced horizon, painting the landscape in oranges, reds, and purples. The crew worked on the ship in silence, walking over the hard wooden planks with their heads down as though they were thoroughly engrossed in work as they treated the deck.

There was only one person on deck standing still and that was the first-mate.

Xo leaned against the railing of the portside, his soft leather cuffs creating a slight squeak on contact with the wood, as the small search party’s vessel came into view. Five men had been sent and only five heads could be seen. They had been unsuccessful. He watched as the boat’s crew secured the lifeboat to the ship’s side in sadness.

The first man on deck approached him to report, “Still no sign of the young prince.”

Was that not obvious? Xo had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from yelling his head off at the man.

Irritation had long since set in.

Irritation at not having a clue what had happened to the boy. Irritation that his uncle had the boy brought on deck in the first place, despite the boy being useless. Irritation at being away from his wife. Irritation at being away from his country. Irritation that this entire situation was delaying his return. And irritation that the crew seemed to be saying and doing the most moronic things in the world.

“I’ll go inform the Captain,” Xo stated as he spun on his heel.

----

The paper had just begun to take on a soft yellow as the ink began to take on a softer black, made even more evident by the hard brown backdrop. Light from the cabin’s porthole illuminated the fading art piece so that the outline of the soft, warm eyes of the subject was the focus. Though the subject’s mouth was set in a line, there was a feeling about the piece that at any moment the young man would smile brightly at the viewer or break into laughter at something the artist had said. The young man’s neck was encased in the high collar of a Fire Nation uniform. The only thing suggesting high status was the shiny dark hair pulled immaculately into a top bun on the subject’s head, held together by a clasp with the Fire Nation emblem on top. There was some tearing at left edge of the paper as though it had been ripped out of some binding before being matted and some oily thumb prints at the corners, but it was obvious the painting was well loved.

In contrast to the calm, approachable soldier was the ink painting beside it that looked like it had never seen the light of day. Though it was made about two years after the soldier’s painting, the ink was bold and its coloring was almost white. The subject in this piece appeared to be a boy around twelve years of age who stared at the viewer with a nervous glint in light-colored eyes. One could imagine the poor boy fidgeting on the stool and pulling at end of the high ponytail created from the long curtain of black hair as the artist tried his best to coax a smile out of the boy. However, it was clear that the artist had been unsuccessful. The lost and affection starved expression made it almost impossible to believe this was the same boy who a month later would stand up to intimidating generals in a war council and speak for the wellbeing of soldiers.

An intricate ceramic incense burner sat between the two pictures, close enough for smoke to gently wave in front of the two but far enough away to prevent any smoke damage.

Seated in front of the two pictures was the silver haired captain whose back was to the door when it creaked open to reveal the aggravated figure of the first mate who stood in the doorway silently, his irritation eroding into pity. For several minutes neither man spoke, both pairs of eyes focused on the pictures.

“My nephew?” the deep, soft voice finally broke the tension. It was sometimes hard for Xo to believe his kind boss was the great prince and general who had led his army into victory after victory until he lost his son at Ba Sing Se. In his place rested an utterly devastated old man.

“I’m sorry, sir, but once again there’s been no sign of him.”

“Can we afford another week at sea?” Iroh’s voice was flat, not a hint of hope tugging at the cords. Both knew by now that all that could be found of his nephew now would be a corpse, if it could even be found.

“No, Captain, most of our cargo has begun to go bad and the men have become anxious to return home.”

They lapsed into silence again for several seconds before Captain Iroh replied, “Very well then, give the order.” Xo turned on his boot’s heel to leave creating a squish and a solid thump sounding on wood at the action, but Iroh stopped him. “Is that old fishing vessel you own still sea worthy?”

“Yes,” Xo answered. It needed some work and was small but it was, in his opinion, one of the best fishing boats created in the Fire Nation.

“Would you be interested in an exchange?”

Xo was stunned. “Sir?”

“My nephew deserves a proper burial,” came the flat reply, “I want to make sure I give him one.”

Xo nodded to the back of Iroh’s head, a symbol of empathy towards the sitting man despite the fact he felt it was a foolhardy quest to risk one’s life for a corpse. But who was he to stop him? Besides, he’d gotten the better end of the deal.

----
(Two weeks later)

“Why is he even still here?” Zuko heard Sokka whine inside the small igloo. “His injuries are almost completely gone so what’s with that guy hanging around and mooching off of us?”

“I don’t know! It’s not like we can really ask him anyway!” Katara retorted with a humph of exacerbation at Sokka’s childishness.

Zuko saw GramGram watch his reaction out of the corner of her ‘mature’ eyes. Zuko pretended he couldn’t hear them and watched the penguin eggs fry on the large skillet carefully until they obtained just the right consistency as GramGram prepared four fresh fish on another skillet. Sokka liked his eggs scrambled, cooked on the outside, and runny on the inside so his were the first he laid on a white-glazed plate and handed to GramGram.

“I have to catch another fish each day because of him…”

“You catch? Hah!”

“Okay so you ‘help’. Still, we don’t need him here! Why doesn’t he just hop in a boat and go home?”

Katara liked her eggs scrampled as well but cooked until their insides were the same as the outside. He handed hers on the beautiful blue and green glazed plate to GramGram.

“He might really have any home to go to Sokka!”

“Great, so we have to take care of the Fire Nation reject.”

Zuko was proud he didn’t flinch at that comment. Zuko and GramGram liked their eggs sunny side up with the white of the egg nearly brown. He filled the two remaining plates with their eggs and waited for GramGram to lay a duck-fish on each plate before going into the igloo and setting the food on the low table. He ignored the guilty expressions on the siblings’ faces as GramGram set the remaining plates on the table and told them to stop standing there and eat.

All four took the places on the four woven floor mats, GramGram facing Katara on one side while Zuko sat to her left facing Sokka who was the only one not sitting properly. Well… if you could call the splayed legs and poor posture Sokka was displaying sitting.

The meal progressed in silence… well as much silence as eating with Sokka got. Zuko had wondered many times why GramGram did not correct Sokka on his manners. Somehow the boy would manage to practically disconnect his jaw like a snake and stuff as much as he could in his mouth in one go, finish quickly, then belch loudly.

After the belching ritual, Sokka as always said, “That’s some good eating GramGram!”

“Thank our guest as well Sokka. He made those eggs you inhaled.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Thanks, Goldy.” Sokka said, smiling even more at the golden-eyed glare he received for the nickname while rising from the table and waved off his Grandmother’s words of minding his manners with several lifts of his wrist. “I’d love to stay and chat but I need to go check over the boat before we go fishing today. That is if the Fire Nation has left us any fish to catch.” With that said, Sokka was soon out the door.

“Ignore him,” Katara advised with a look that promised Sokka was sure to get slapped for his behavior later, her blue eyes on the door with her mouth set into a pouty line.

Despite himself, Zuko smiled at the funny sight and imagined Sokka getting slapped with a fish to the face.

A slight rumble of a laugh built inside of him and was let out before he could stop it, a gruff, almost frightening sound due to his damaged vocal cords erupted. As GramGram and Katara turned startled gazes on him, his smile dropped. A hand unconsciously went to his throat, embarrassment coloring his pale cheeks. Wanting to avoid further humiliation, he bowed in respect and exited the igloo ignoring Katara’s quiet call for him to come back.

‘I don’t want your sympathy,’ Zuko wanted to reply, recognizing the tone Katara had used as he walked out of the village wanting a little air. ‘At least Sokka doesn’t constantly worry about making me remember my handicaps; he just says whatever he’s thinking.’ Golden eyes ignored mothers pulling their children away and old women shaking their heads at him.

He just needed to forget he was different, if only for a little while. Thankfully, his borrowed water tribe clothing was able to protect him from the cold for a little bit as he found a spot far away from the village to practice his bending.

As usual, his skills were greatly lacking and being out of practice did not help. He couldn’t even manage a decent throw of a fireball as he punched. The fireballs he attempted did not cover enough distance to reach the mound of snow twelve feet in front of him or have the size he wanted. He could just hear his sister’s snide comments at the pitiful sight and see his mother’s disappointed face.

He pushed those thoughts away and tried a simple bending kick, feeling slightly better when the fire reached the target.

“My Grandson is right, you know,” a voice behind him said, startling him into falling on his back and sending a fine powder of snow into the air.

Zuko looked up to find GramGram standing there, her demeanor and stance commanding and emotionless. He pulled himself to his feet.

“Your injuries have healed. It is time for you to return home. Surely your family is worried about you?” GramGram asked, her face impassive.

Zuko lowered his gaze to the snow-covered ice beneath his feet. The meaning of her words was clear: he had overstayed his welcome. H would obey her wishes and leave the village tomorrow… but where was he to go? Only Uncle Iroh wanted him and he was far better off without his useless nephew weighing him down. It was far kinder to let him believe he was dead.

A gnawed hand had found its way onto his shoulder. “I am sorry, young man, but your face brings back too many bad memories for this village for us to keep you. This is what is best for everyone.” The soft sound of crunching snow let him know GramGram had left him.

Then, Zuko was alone again.

When he found his way back to the village, Katara and Sokka still hadn’t come back from their fishing trip.

----

There was a strange boy and animal in the village when Zuko woke up. Curious, but wanting to feel useful, he proceeded to help GramGram as he normally did in the morning, suppressing the hurt her words had inflicted on him.

“He’s an airbender, GramGram!” Katara said excitedly, a large smile on her face as she clasped her hands excitedly in front of her.

Airbender?

“We don’t know that Katara. All we know is that he flew a few feet in the air when he sneezed. Weird, but that doesn’t mean he’s telling the truth,” Sokka said, one hand on his hip and the other shaking his spear in Katara’s face. “He could be Fire Nation scum like this one!” He pointed with the tip of his spear to Zuko who was helping GramGram prepare snakeseal meat for breakfast.

“He’s not!” Katara protested with a stomp of her foot. “I’m going to go wake him up so he can meet the village and you’ll all see he’s harmless.”

Minutes later, the strange boy emerged from one of the tents and the village wandered away from the cooking fires to see him. Zuko watched from a distance, still stripping the rough skin off the meat in coils as the boy with the strange tattoos and clothes was ‘greeted’ by the village.

Making himself focus on the task at hand and ignoring the soft laughter, he didn’t hear the boy coming until he amazingly landed from the air on the opposite side of the prep table. “Hi! I’m Aang. What’s your name? Aren’t you fire nation? How’d ya get that scar?”

To be continued

Sorry for the wait! I couldn’t think of a way to make an interesting filler chapter.

Special thanks to my friend Stephen who keeps reminding me to update this.
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Speechless