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i choose us

Summary:

Zuko wakes up ten years in an alternate future next to the waterbending girl who's name he can't remember and two children she claims is his own. With no clue on how he's landed in the south pole, Zuko concludes that he must gather the pieces in order to return home, back to the past and back to his life in the fire nation.

But unexpected feelings claim an unexpected piece of his heart.

“How can you look at me like that?” She asks, pulling him from his stupor.

Her blue eyes shift over his face, bound by the way he looks at her so intently, so infatuated. This man, who has loved and shared a life with her the past six years. And yet, she feels like she’s sixteen all over again. A sudden bud rose in her chest and blossoms into everlasting longing. Katara remembers this, remembers this exact scenario where Zuko had met her with the same gaze in the Crystal Catacombs so many years ago. Where he had met her with the same gaze in the quiet of his princely chambers and the kiss that silenced her sobs when she did not know if he would make it alive from the injury Azula had given him.

Zuko swallows. “Like what?”

“Like you’re seeing me for the very first time.”

Notes:

always wanted to do a time travel au and im so glad i finally got the courage to do it. domestic zuko living in the south pole is my weakness and i hope you all enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it. let me know what you all think!

Chapter 1: creature of karma

Chapter Text

“I thought you had changed!”

 

‘I have changed!” 

 

He repeats this to himself in hopes that it’s as real as he believes it to be in his head. He has changed. The doubt rearing its ugly head over his shoulder is just his imagination and not some venomous creature of karma waiting to strike. 

 

He’s doing the right thing. He has to be. After all the pain, all the tribulations and the rejections, Agni sought to give him everything he’s always wanted and it came in the form of Azula, the last person he thought would ever extend a hand to him. This has to be a sign. For if Azula of all people was offering salvation for his damned soul, then why not his father? The one who had the ability to restore his honor?

 

If anyone else were in his shoes, they’d understand. It was sensible, it was practical. So why did his Uncle choose differently? Why did he not act in their nation’s favor when the opportunity presented itself? They could have both left that awful city unchained. No more living under the thumb of another monarchy. No more being a servant to the enemy just to survive. No more stupid tea shop and trying to appease complete strangers who were beneath them. 

 

Zuko knows his worth, and Azula reminded him of that. Iroh should’ve known his. That’s why the old man is in prison. That’s why he’s getting his just deserves. Zuko chose the logical path and his uncle had made his bed. Iroh forced his hand, he forced the prince to sever their bond. Even though Zuko tries to convince himself of this, why doesn’t the guilt go away? Instead it frustrates him to no end- swelling like a burning ball in his chest. It makes him angry and he doesn’t even know why. 

 

He thought being here on Ember Island, away from the politics and away from the stress of returning home, would clear his mind— remind him where he belonged. Now Zuko realizes he’s more out of place here than he’s ever been before. 

 

“Are you still sulking?”

 

He turns from his thoughts, from the stretch of ocean in front of him. He can still hear voices in the distance, the party they had sabotaged earlier still in a panic. He’d be delighted to bask in their dismay if not the whirlwind clouding his brain. He’s even less enthused knowing the display he made in front of his sister and her friends. They had seen a side of him he had kept bottled up and now he doesn’t know how to properly look at anyone. 

 

“Weren’t you going to bed, Mai?” He asks, clearly in no mood for company. There’s still tension in the air between them. 

 

She shrugs, standing next to him without a glance or an ounce of concern, “Can’t sleep when it’s easy to see you standing here gawking at the ocean. It’s hard to miss your signature pout.”

 

Zuko frowns. “Thanks for the words of comfort,” He’s pretty sure his sister and Ty Lee were spying as well. 

 

Mai sighs, “I’m not going to baby you, Zuko. Don’t forget that I’m still mad at you for the attitude you’ve displayed today.”

 

“Yeah, you’ve made that clear. Multiple  times,” Zuko picks up a seashell and tosses it in the water, his attempt to skip it only results in it smacking flat against the surface before it sinks. 

 

She remains indifferent to his shortness, only arching a brow and crossing her arms, “I’m willing to let you make it up to me.”

 

Sometimes it’s hard for him to know what to say to Mai. She’s beautiful, a skilled fighter and obviously too good for him; while Mai seems to have a clear understanding of her role and everything she stands for, Zuko can’t even figure out a sliver of himself. And yet, she wants him. Zuko who disgraced his father and nation. Zuko who the traitor and fugitive. Zuko who bore a scar for the rest of his life, signifying those misdeeds. How can he complain? Still, he feels less and less like himself, like the person he thought he was or wanted to be. Being home should have fixed that. Shouldn’t it? 

 

“Why are you here anyway? If you’re just going to put me down, then go back inside.”

 

“Geez, you are so sensitive. You’re acting like a child, you know. Heaven forbid, anyone is mature enough to be real with you.”

 

Zuko’s eyes dimmer, his shoulders slump and he’s feeling so much weight over nothing, nothing he can figure out.

 

Mai decides to ignore the grimace contorting his face, coming up behind him to wrap her arms around his waist and rests her cheek on his shoulder, “Let’s not do this, Zuko. We can start where we left off before Azula interrupted us. You seemed pretty into it.” 

 

He looks over his shoulder to see a rare smile present itself on her lips, and for a brief second, that made him happy. To be wanted by Mai, it makes him so damn happy. It’s not enough. He doesn’t even know what enough looks like.

 

“Maybe tomorrow,” He mutters, turning back to the ocean, the moonlight reflecting in the water. 

 

Mai rolls her eyes. “Suit yourself,” then quietly retreats back to the beach house.

 


 

He replays that scene in his head again. The one with the waterbender and her piercing, white hot anger— her sharp blue gaze burned an image forever haunting. I thought you changed. I have changed.

 

Why does it bother him? Why can’t he sleep or eat or breath without it picking and prodding at him from every possible angle. That waterbender be damned. How dare she plant a seed of doubt in his mind. What did she know? She can judge him all she wants. Her opinion means nothing to him. Nothing. It’s over. The Avatar is dead. 

 

No he’s not. 

 

Of course he is. He was struck down in front of Zuko’s very eyes. Many had witnessed his downfall. Forget the fact that it shook him to witness a child die. Forget the fact that he never wanted to actually kill the Avatar. He can wipe his hands clean of this because it was all Azula’s fault. No burden or blood to trace the horrific event back to him. 

 

Lies. You would have done anything to retrieve your honor. You may not have killed the Avatar but you played a direct hand in it and even took the credit to save yourself. You know it to be true. The Avatar is alive. 

 

How?

 

You know how. Because of her.

 

Because of her...the blue eyed beauty who offered to lift the burden of his past from his face. Her gentle touch and gentle words, soothing like that of her element; her caress like medicine. For all that he couldn’t stand about her, though he barely knew her, Zuko held a sense of admiration. She was a worthy opponent, and he respects that, but she’s still the enemy. That’s what he told himself when he betrayed her and his Uncle. 

 

Zuko clicks his tongue, flipping on his side and kicking the sheets off the bed. Suddenly they’re too uncomfortable, the silk making his skin crawl like snakes. 

 

He claws at the front of his tunic as though there’s this slithering pain coursing through his chest. No matter how many times he tries to convince himself that he’s made the right decision, he still can’t place it. He still can’t get the image of his Uncle being apprehended and sheer disappointment on his face. Or the image of the Avatar convulsing with lighting or the image of the waterbender’s tear stained face as she holds him in her arms.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

He knows that look from anywhere. 

 

Mom . He thinks. Would she ever be proud of the man he became? If she’d seen him now, will she accept the fact that he was responsible for someone losing their life because he chose the easy way out?  

 

Zuko isn’t sure what feels worse, being a traitor to his nation or betraying the very people who actually gave a damn about him.