Chapter Text
City of Omashu, Earth Kingdom, Three months later
Omashu was unlike any other city San had seen before. Even now, five weeks after his arrival he was stunned by it every time he left the house.
The whole place was interconnected by a sprawling system of tubes and shoots that could be seen everywhere in the city. San had been told that it was operated via earthbending and used to deliver packages and other goods to Omashu’s citizens. Similar to the delivery system, only a bender of this nation could open the earthen city gates. He would never admit it, but the sight of the two massive slabs of rock being moved aside through sheer force of will, as he had entered the city, had sent goosebumps down his arms.
In general, San was certain he had never seen this many earthbenders or a city so in touch with the element its people commanded before he had entered the bustling metropolis of Omashu. It would have been awe-inspiring, if it wasn't for the fact that in the past fifteen years the Fire Nation had already tried to take the city twice. And failed both times.
Omashu was presently the last stronghold in the southern Earth Kingdom. Most of the lands west to it had already been overthrown, east to it came only small settlements run over with bandits and crime. Not much worth conquering there.
After the disastrous events in Ardta, he had returned to the Fire Nation capital, where he had been received by the Chief General of the Fire Nation Army. San had always felt a deep distaste for the man. He thought him short-sighted and knew that he was prone to bursts of violence. From the way he had treated San upon his return, he could tell that the dislike was mutual.
One could have thought that San’s inability to catch the two rebels had led to the downfall of the entire Fire Nation. He had spent the first night back at the palace in a cell. There were supportable claims of treason voiced against him, was what he had been told. He had called the bluff right away, but the night on the stone floor had still managed to dim his spirits.
While San had failed at his original task, namely disposing of the merchant, he had eradicated Ardta’s rebel problem. Back then, in the hospital, he had ordered troops to search the house of the rebels he had followed after the tea house. Several people had been apprehended. The others in their group had either been arrested in the following days or presumed to have fled the city.
The merchant and the firebender belonged to the second group.
It was the existence of the latter that had agitated the Chief General to no end. Deserters to the army (cause this was what the man must surely be) were not uncommon, but a firebender assisting the rebellion had been unheard of. It was a blow to the nation's pride to have one of their own turn against them. Due to that, the information was to be kept under wraps. San had been found not guilty of treason (obviously) and sent to Omashu for a new mission. Apparently, he could not be trusted to succeed in catching the two fugitives. It irked him more than he dared to admit.
His new mission in Omashu, yes. Since the city was deemed impenetrable due to its earthbender army and its unfavorable location on top of a mountain that was surrounded by a river, San had been sent here as a spy. To see if it was possible to conquer the city from the inside out.
He had soon found work at the palace’s stables. In the past few weeks he had been trying to get closer to other staff members who worked inside the palace. Last night he had taken a kitchen girl out on a date. She had been so enthusiastic about the whole affair he had almost felt bad for tricking her in such a manner. Almost. She had not been able to give him any useful information at all, which meant there wouldn't be a second date in the future.
Presently, he was on an errand for the stable master. He was on his way to an herbalist, to fetch a tincture that would help one of the ostrich horses with its upset stomach.
The walk to the apothecary wasn't far, but San was taking his time, tilting his head back to soak up the rare autumn sun that shone bright in the cloudless sky. He passed a vendor that sold sticky rice and vowed to buy some for himself on the way back.
The apothecary was a small building. From earlier visits San knew that the place was always stacked to the ceiling with herbs and vials and all sorts of instruments, barely leaving any room for customers to move about.
He pushed the curtain aside and stepped into the main room, where most of the goods and the registry were located.
Inside he was faced not with the bedraggled woman that ran the business, but a man that looked to be similar to him in age.
San muttered a greeting, which the other customer didn’t return. Instead, he was eying San up and down, his brown worried into a frown. Self-consciously, San tried to take an inconspicuous whiff of himself. He did smell like animal, but surely not strongly enough for someone else to take offense.
Just then, the owner entered the room. She passed a small pouch to the man.
“Here, that should do it.”
“Thank you,” the man responded and dug through his purse to look for the right amount of money.
San's whole body tensed.
The voice sounded awfully familiar.
“And what do you need ?” The woman directed at San, while counting the coins.
“Uhmmm, one of the ostrich horses has not been eating. We think it's a matter of the stomach,” he managed to stammer out.
“Alright just a moment,” she said and vanished into the workroom.
The man meanwhile had finished sorting himself out and walked towards the door and therefore towards San.
He had almost passed him, when his eyes snapped up to meet San´s watchful glare.
San hissed. He knew those eyes.
Lightning quick he grabbed the man's shirt.
“You,” he bit out.
The man gifted him a lazy smirk.
“Took you long enough.”
“What are you doing here?!” San demanded.
“I think I should be asking you that. Far from home for a firebender.”
“Clearly, not the only firebender in Omashu from the looks of it.”
“So what are you gonna do about that?” The man tilted his head to the side, and oh how badly San wanted to wipe that smile off his face. “Set the shop on fire and blow your cover?”
San snuck a glance to where the woman had disappeared. It was only a matter of moments until she would reemerge, which ruled out firebending. He only had a small knife on him, since his sword was too clunky to bring along to work.
Something told him he would need more than a knife for this particular fight.
“That's what I thought,” the firebender announced triumphantly.
He grabbed San’s wrist and applied pressure until San let go of him.
“Let’s not see each other again, sweetheart.” The man winked and brushed past San.
San wasn't sure whether the use of the endearment or the wink made him see red, but before he could understand what he was doing he had already seized the man by the collar and dragged him back.
The man exclaimed furiously and sent a well aimed punch at San’s face.
It connected.The coppery taste of blood filled his mouth.
Swiftly, the man moved to widen the distance between them. He uncurled his hands and San recognized the bending technique, before the flames even had the chance to ignite. He took a defensive stance, ready to dispel the fire.
The attack never came.
Perplexed, San witnessed the man turn his open palms to his own face. All of a sudden the man was shrouded in a cloud of fire. He let out a pitiful howl.
What the actual fuck?
“He’s a firebender! He firebended at me!” He screeched and pointed an accusing finger at San.
San wheeled around to see the shop owner stare at him with wide frightened eyes behind her dirty goggles.
He spun back to the man, who was putting on the act of a lifetime. Maybe he wasn't a deserter, but someone that had escaped the circus. It was obvious to San that he had taken no real damage even though he was still shouting and covering his face with one hand. He must have directed the flames with incredible precision. Not a single burn, probably only a singed strand of hair or so.
San turned to the woman anew and was stumped when he noticed that she had disappeared.
Outside someone started screaming bloody murder.
“Police! There’s a firebender in my shop! Please, someone help!”
“I think that's your sign,” the man informed him now. That same insufferable grin was back on his face.
“This isn't over,” San vowed and stormed out of the shop.
It was pure chaos outside.
People were running, trying to put as much space between them and the apothecary as possible. In the distance San heard the rumbling of earth, the sound of rocks and dirt changing their shape to make a quicker path for those that compelled them. The city police.
This was bad. The kind of bad, where he wasn't sure if he would live to see another day.
He scrambled away, in the direction of the slums. He knew there was no leaving the city at the moment, so he would have to lay low and hope that he wouldn’t be found.
It turned out he wouldn't have to worry about that.
A boulder struck him in the shoulder. He stumbled and skidded on the ground, before his back connected with the wall of a building.
Red, hot pain erupted all over his body.
That one had gotten him good.
He pushed himself up on his arms and tried to get a bearing of his surroundings.
Three earthbenders encircled him. The one in the center did a swift combination of movements with his hands and suddenly the earth beneath San´s palms crawled up his arms, stopping right under his elbows.
He was trapped.
His mind threatened to go blank at his suddenly very poor chances to escape Omashu alive. San forced himself not to panic and weighed his options. He wondered if he could somehow convince the earthbenders that he wasn't a firebender. It might be difficult, but the only one who had seen him or believed that she had seen him firebend was the herbalist and she had a reputation for being odd. Something told him the rebel wouldn't bother to stick around for a witness report.
Rationality forced San to dismiss this plan as folly. They would take him in for questioning one way or another and while the persona he had adopted for his work in Omashu was watertight, it would all be over as soon as someone recognized the ink that sprawled across San’s arm for what it was.
As his teacher at the temple had liked to say - sometimes the only way out was through.
Fire exploded from his fists with such a force that his earthy shackles had no option but to yield.
“Careful!”, one of the guards exclaimed, “this one's strong!”
San was given no time to appreciate the compliment, since he was too busy evading the rocks that came flying at him from all sides now.
In a matter of moments he was completely covered in dirt from all the rolling and skidding around on the floor he was doing, only breaking apart the occasional projectile with a fiery punch.
He tried to wait for a cease in the bombardment. In order to launch a proper counterattack, he had to get his feet under him for more than a few blinks of an eye.
While he didn’t love to involve bystanders in his fights, he understood this wasn’t a situation where he could afford a moral high ground. Palm wide open he sent a stream of fire into the market.
The earthbenders had clearly not expected this and exclaimed in anger. “Sustain him now!” One of them yelled. All around him booths and stalls went up in flames. This part of the city was densely populated, so it wouldn't be too long before the whole place would turn into a blazing inferno. Already, he spotted the flames licking up to one of the thatched roofs closest to him.
One of his opponents seemed to ignore the command and instead directed his focus to the inferno that had been a marketplace just a few moments ago. He ejected a wall of stone around the flames to keep them from spreading. It was no use. Too much was up in flames already. The man cussed and swiftly moved an elderly woman out of the way.
This was San’s opportunity. He knew he had a chance at taking two earthbenders. The two men circled around him, seemingly more cautious now they had witnessed his power. San wouldn't let them have the first move. He jumped and while in the air stretched out his body, so he could shoot fire from both his hands and feet at the same time.
The soldiers, who had been exactly opposite one another both had to scramble to block the attack. San didn’t hesitate and ran. The objective still was to get out of the city.
The sight of the road in front of him disappeared as San’s path was blocked by a wall of earth appearing between the houses. He cursed and swung himself up onto a windowsill of the house closest to the obstacle, determined to cross the wall and continue his flight. He jumped to grab onto the first floor window.
The side of the house simply disintegrated beneath his touch. San only grabbed onto crumbs of earth and didn't even have time to roll the fall off. His back hit the ground and he felt the air being squeezed out of his lungs.
Through teary eyes he looked up at another earthbender. This one was older than San´s earlier opponents and wore a slightly different garb than the other soldiers. His was the same shade of dark green, but showcased an emblem of a crown stitched into the fabric over his breast.
While it hadn't been some foolish belief in a greater cause but mere necessity that had brought him this far from home, he had no intention to die at only twenty four summers old at the hands of someone whose name he didn't even know.
San nimbly jumped to his feet and kicked fire at the man.
They fell into a rhythm in which their movements and attacks ricocheted off each other. San would have likened it to a dance, if earthbenders had any grace in their movements. Alas, they usually didn’t and even this high ranking officer was no exception to that rule.
Graceless, as San found his bending to be, it was still efficient.
He grit his teeth one assault of boulders after the other flew San’s way. This was different to the attacks of the other soldiers. This man’s attacks carried more weight to them. San knew that even a singular hit would mean lights out for him.
As if that wasn’t annoying enough already, this earthbender was a great multitasker. He simultaneously launched attacks at San and unsettled the ground beneath San’s feet. San felt like a monkey, constantly jumping from one place to the other to avoid slipping on the ever-changing ground.
So focused was he on this master earthbender that he didn’t notice the other soldier until it was too late. Something hit him in the back of his knees. The officer drew a circle in the air, palms directed at ground beneath San’s feet.
The pain was so bad that for an instant San feared the man had broken San’s legs.
His legs that were now completely submerged into the dusty ground of the city of Omashu.
Someone pulled his arms behind his back and the officer stepped closer, handcuffs ready to clap around San’s wrists.
It seemed to be an unspoken rule of the universe that dungeons had to be freezing cold. He had stopped feeling his toes quite some time ago. The bitter chill wasn't the only thing causing San discomfort though. He desperately wanted to massage his left shoulder. That first boulder had hit him exactly where the rebel had stabbed him just a few months prior causing the old injury to smart.
It was impossible to move though. His hands had been cuffed behind his back to keep him from firebending, his legs had suffered a similar fate and were also cuffed together. A short chain connected from there to one of the cell walls, not even allowing him to explore all of the already cramped space.
He couldn't tell how much time had passed since he had been brought down here, since the dungeons were found in the catacombs beneath the palace. The glow of the crystals that were embedded all around him in the walls, ceiling and ground, was the only light that illuminated his cell.
Just from how badly his stomach was aching, he guessed that night must have fallen some time ago. What he wouldn't give for some grilled meat.
San would have expected panic to sink in by now. To weep or scream in terror at the undeniable fate awaiting him, but he found himself strangely calm. All his experience didn't allow him to simply give up. If that had ever been in his nature, he wasn't able to remember it now. He knew that if he kept his wits an opportunity would eventually present itself.
The darkness around him was strangely quiet, devoid of the sound of any human presence down here. San suspected that he had been brought to a higher security area, farther down in the earth than where they kept drunkards and other riff-raff.
He contemplated whether he should try to get some sleep. While he didn't want to be caught unaware, he knew that he also had to save his energy.
The choice was taken from him in the form of footsteps echoing down the narrow corridor outside his cell.
“Keep still!”, San heard someone (presumably a guard) exclaim.
Three figures appeared in his view. Two guards and a prisoner. A prisoner that was struggling with all his might to free himself from their grip.
“Gods damned thief,” one of the guards cussed at the man.
He unlocked the cell door with a big heavy-looking key and his colleague didn't hesitate to push the prisoner into San’s space.
The door closed with a loud clang and San had to force himself not to flinch at how final it sounded.
The guard who had closed the door moved óne of his hands in the air and San witnessed the earthy shackles around the man's wrists disintegrate.
“Try not to get burnt to a crisp by that one,” he mocked with a gaze in San´s direction. Then the guards took their leave.
By Agni, San knew that he had hoped for an opportunity to escape. He really would have wished though that said opportunity hadn’t presented itself as the guy who was responsible for him being locked up in the first place.
For a moment he and the rebel only stared at each other.
“You!”, the man screeched.
His face mirrored the disbelief San was certain must be etched onto his own.
“Me,” San responded.
He was tired.
“What are you doing here?!”
“What am I doing here?” San raised an eyebrow.
“Ah yeah, I guess that's right.” The rebel lowered himself to the floor. “Just my luck,” he grumbled.
That seemed to conclude the conversation for him. He even went as far as leaning back against the bars and closing his eyes. San would have been offended by the lack of caution, but it was obvious even to himself that he was no threat in his current state.
“Why are you here?” San finally chanced.
“None of your business,” came the expected answer.
“Well, what's your plan then?”
“Preferably to get some peace and quiet,” the man bit out.
“Hmm peace and quiet won´t save you from the executioner's block. That's why you're here with me, right?”
It truly was just a shot in the dark, but it was also the only reasoning San could find for why out of all the places in the dungeons they had put this man in his cell. He wondered what crime the rebel had been able to commit in just a few hours that was severe enough to be punished like that. Something involving theft, but theft from whom?
“Actually I heard they don’t do that here, instead they crush you with rocks,” San added almost conversationally.
“Will you shut up?” The man slurred.
San eyed him critically. Something was off about the rebel. Earlier that day he had been all bravado and snark, completely different from the person presently slumped before him.
It was too dark to point out any injuries, but San had a growing suspicion of what the issue was.
“Did you hurt your head when you were fighting the guards?”
“Hmm?”
“Your head. Did something hit you in the head?”
“Maybe.”
San didn’t like one bit how faint the firebender’s voice sounded.
He moved as close to him as the chain allowed.
“Turn closer to the crystal, so I can take a look,” he ordered.
He received no answer.
Fuck.
The guy had probably passed out.
That left him with two options. Either he could let nature run its course and wait to see whether the man would survive the night. Or he could help. Normally a choice like that would be easy for San, but he still felt anger at this man, who had managed to evade him twice already, simmer beneath his skin. San detested being shown up.
He couldn't and wouldn't let such petty feelings guide his decisions though.
With a sigh he turned his attention to his handcuffs and called upon his fire. He tried (and failed) not to flinch at the sensation of molten metal running over his skin. The weird angle his hands were twisted into and the lack of sight made it impossible to liquefy them in a more precise manner. He groaned. That one would bother him for a long time to come.
He bent and subjected the shackles at his legs to a similar fate. Only this time he simply melted the chain connecting them, preserving them from the pain his wrists were currently in.
Finally free, his hand found his aching shoulder and managed a few presses, before he knelt next to the rebel.
He shook the man by the shoulder.
“Hey, wake up.”
It soon became obvious that the man had slipped beyond his reach and San ended his endeavor of trying to wake him. Instead he turned his head and searched for the wound.
And there it was, a little above where the hairline met the neck, blood seeped out from fresh cut and matted the rebel’s hair.
San held the man upright with one hand and with the other tore a strip of cloth from his white tunic. With a few skilled moves he quickly bandaged the man's head, careful to apply sufficient pressure to stop the blood flow.
In the dark dungeon this was the extent of care San was able to provide for his patient, but to be unable to properly treat the wound made him feel restless. It was a job done insufficiently.
Well there was one other thing he was able to do for the man.
Carefully, San pulled the man down to rest on his lap. He focused on his core, on where his mother used to tell him his own personal sun resided and pulled. Slowly, he felt his own body temperature rise. He wrapped an arm around his patient’s shoulder and took the man's hands into his own. The rebel would likely be able to recover more quickly, if his body wasn't additionally fighting to keep him warm.
San shifted uneasily. He was neither used to nor cared much for being this close to another person. Especially a stranger. He pushed his agitation down and tried to focus not on how absurd this situation was, but rather on the flow of heat in his own body.
Even as a child he had always experienced his bending as a steady comfort. It wasn’t uncommon for children to be frightened by their inclination towards the most dangerous and unpredictable element. The joy that originated from discovering that you were able to do something others kids couldn't, was often quickly diminished after the first incident of losing control of that something.
It wasn´t unheard of for a child to set their own room on fire during a nightmare, when the lines between reality and dream were blurred or to accidentally hurt a family member or friend in a fit of anger. It was such painful instances that made children afraid of themselves and unwilling to accept their own power.
San had never been afraid of his fire. Maybe because he had always known what power was growing inside of him. On his mother's side of the family he was able to trace at least sixth generations of benders that had preceded him, every single descendant gifted with the ability to bend. It was something not even most noble families were able to claim.
Distantly, he wondered what sort of story the rebel had to tell. Had he been born into a long line of benders like San? Or had he gained his firebending through a quirk of nature, a firebender born into a family of farmers? Did the element feel like a little heartbeat to him always fluttering in his chest or like a candle steadily keeping his nights illuminated? Did he have a favorite form he liked to practi - What the fuck was he doing right now?
San was shocked by how much he wanted to know about the other man. He decided to blame his newfound interest on his bleeding heart and having been alone for way too long. The life he lived didn't really allow for many friends. He ground his teeth. The Chief General had accused him of this many times before, but he truly sucked at being an assassin.
He knew he shouldn't get attached to the firebender. They would either escape this place together and go on to be enemies once again or they would both die, in which case forming an attachment was also in vain.
He sighed. This too would pass in due time.
His contemplations were interrupted by a groan. His focus snapped to his lap, where slowly his plight began to stir.
“How do you feel?”
San wasn't sure how much time had passed, since the man had lost consciousness, but he had woken quicker than San had anticipated. He decided to count that as a good sign.
“Huh?”
“Are you feeling better?”
“What happened?”
The man dragged a hand across his face and even in the darkness, San could see how the events of the night had worn on him. His face looked ashen in the green glow of the crystals and his eyes were clouded, as if he hadn't yet remembered where he was or who he was talking to.
“They brought you in some time ago with an injury to your head. You passed out, so I bandaged the wound,” San explained.
“Well, I don't recall asking you to,” the man bit out.
San couldn't help but gape at the man in disbelief.
“I just saved your life,” he said darkly. Surely, the guy was still addled from sleep and therefore unaware of the gravity of the situation.
“I shall be eternally grateful,” the man mocked and extricated himself from San’s lap.
From his position on the stony ground he staged a bow in San´s direction. He must have still been dizzy, since he swayed forward and almost connected his head to the floor (something San would have greatly welcomed), but managed to catch himself at the last moment with his right arm.
Apparently unperturbed by almost gaining his second concussion of the night, the man accused, “And why in Agni´s name were you cozying up to me like that? Couldn’t resist my pretty face even down here?”
The remark was all snark and lacked any of the flirtatiousness San had been bestowed with the day before. Fire within, that guy was in a horrible mood. San started to regret his play at medic all of a sudden.
“As lovely as it is to see you have made a new friend, I think it is time to go now.”
Both their heads snapped to the front of the cell. There, behind the bars, was a man clad in black. The lower part of his face was veiled, but this time it didn't take San long to realize who was in front of him. In shock, San bore witness to a certain jewelry merchant unlocking their cell.