The Fire Nation Prince

Chapter 10: Returns and Reunions

The sea stretched wide and dull beneath a slate sky.

A thin sheen of cloud hung low over the water, softening the horizon into an indistinct smear of gray and silver. Seabirds wheeled lazily above the current, their cries distant and irregular. Waves lapped gently against the weather-worn hull of the skiff, now barely more than a smudge on the tide.

It had been more than twenty-four hours.

And Rin was officially out of patience.

“This took longer than expected,” he muttered, glowering over the edge of the boat. “Much longer.”

Zuko adjusted the tiller without looking at him. “Tide shifted. We had to adjust course.”

“We were supposed to adjust five hours ago,” Rin grumbled. “That sandbar back near the reef wasn’t on your fancy map.”

“I drew that map.”

“My point exactly.”

Zuko rolled his eyes but said nothing. His face was calm, but his knuckles were faintly white on the controls. The ocean might have been still, but the quiet had become… tense.

Rin sat back and crossed his arms.

“Also,” he added, “we’re out of seaweed crackers.”

“You ate them.”

“You let me.”

“You’re the one who said you missed exile.”

“I missed the danger, not the diet.”

Zuko’s mouth twitched, but he kept his focus on the horizon.

A faint outline was emerging from the mist ahead. Not the jagged silhouette of some distant peak or volcanic mass, but soft ridges, forested edges, and familiar cliffs: Kyoshi Island.

They were approaching from the eastern side, far from the harbor village or the warrior outpost. The coastline here was rugged and unguarded, bordered by steep rocks and narrow inlets where only locals, and smugglers, dared dock.

It was exactly what Zuko needed.

As the shore came into sharper view, Rin squinted.

“You’re sure we’re not gonna be spotted?”

“Positive,” Zuko said.

“Pretty sure Misa’s bright enough to notice her base commander and a royal prince disappearing in the middle of the night.”

Zuko finally looked at him. “I left enough bureaucratic busywork to keep her distracted for three days. Fake requisitions. Incomplete repair manifests. Conflicting shift schedules. If she’s half as meticulous as she seems, she’ll spend the next seventy-two hours just sorting the mess.”

Rin raised a brow. “And the lieutenant?”

Zuko allowed himself a small smirk. “Chien’s too busy pretending to be competent to question anything.”

Rin’s grin returned. “I knew you were playing them. You’re lucky Misa’s not secretly one of Kuvak’s spies.”

Zuko tilted his head. “If she is, she’ll file a full report in four days… and by then, we’ll already have set everything in motion.”

The skiff dipped slightly as it passed a line of half-submerged rocks. Spray kissed the sides of the vessel, and the wind picked up just enough to rustle their cloaks. Rin adjusted the folds of his hood, brushing salt off the back of his hand.

He glanced sidelong at Zuko, then grinned.

“So. Be honest. You think they’re a thing?”

Zuko didn’t glance up. “What?”

“Misa and the lieutenant. You saw it.”

Zuko blinked once, then groaned. “Rin…”

“I saw the way he looked at her,” Rin continued. “Like a man who once asked her to dance and got stabbed in the foot for it.”

“She’s his communications officer.”

“She’s his reason to shave in the morning.”

Zuko shook his head. “We’re here for diplomacy, not matchmaking.”

“Bet you a gold piece they’re sharing a mess tray by the time we get back.”

“Double or nothing she punches him first.”

Rin laughed, the sound short and clean.

The cliffs were closer now. The trees that crowned the hilltops swayed in slow rhythm, the wind carrying the scent of damp leaves and wet stone. A narrow inlet opened just ahead, a place Zuko remembered well. He’d seen it once during his exile, when he chased rumors of a rebel hideout. It had been abandoned then. Hopefully it still was.

He steered the skiff toward the rocks.

Rin stood and took up the mooring hook.

“This place always looked too peaceful,” he muttered. “It’s the quiet ones you gotta watch.”

Zuko stood beside him. “The whole island’s like that. Calm on the surface. But look deeper…”

“…and you find steel under the silk,” Rin finished.

The skiff scraped lightly against the rocky shelf, and Rin hopped out first, steadying the line. Zuko followed, his boots crunching on damp gravel. The trees just ahead thickened quickly, forming a wall of green and gray just beyond the waterline. No torches. No patrols. No sound but the rustle of leaves and distant surf.

Zuko looked inland.

They had arrived.

Kyoshi awaited.

The inland path was little more than a wild trail.

The trees of Kyoshi’s eastern ridge pressed close, trunks gnarled and thick, their high canopies blotting out the silvered sky. Ferns and moss blanketed the forest floor in dense, uneven carpets. Roots snaked underfoot like sleeping serpents. Each step forward was slower, softer, an unspoken understanding between Zuko and Rin: stealth now, noise later.

They were no longer sailing blind. But they weren’t safe either.

Zuko slowed his pace, eyes darting upward.

Something felt wrong.

The forest was too still. Even for early morning, the birds were quiet. The wind rustled, but no branches moved. The deeper they went, the heavier the air became, like the trees were watching.

He stopped.

Rin nearly bumped into him. “What is it?”

Zuko said nothing at first. His shoulders stiffened.

He turned his head slightly, his gaze narrowing.

“…We’re being watched.”

Rin’s hand immediately went to the hilt of his short dagger, fingers tightening. His voice dropped.

“I thought you said they were expecting us.”

“They are,” Zuko murmured.

He tilted his head toward the shadows in the canopy. Eyes. Half a dozen. Maybe more.

“But not the Kyoshi Warriors.”

Rin turned his head just in time to catch movement, just a flicker, high above.

Then…

Thunk.

The hiss of an arrow slicing through the air came faster than the sound of its release.

Zuko turned with a snap and caught it mid-flight, inches from his forehead. His fingers closed around the shaft, the fletching still vibrating between his knuckles.

Rin staggered back with a shout. “WHAT THE FUCK…”

More arrows.

They came like rain, hissing from both sides, sharp, precise, and unmistakably coordinated.

Zuko grabbed Rin by the back of his cloak and yanked him behind a thick tree trunk, his other leg sweeping out in a low arc. With a fierce grunt, he snapped a wide circle of flame from his foot, a burning arc of fire that fanned out in a half-moon, scorching through the volley mid-air.

Arrows exploded in sparks and ash.

The air smelled of smoke and pine.

“I THOUGHT YOU SAID WE WERE EXPECTED!” Rin shouted again, crouching low.

Zuko’s eyes blazed. “BY MY MEN. NOT THE LOCALS.”

He flung the burned arrow aside and took a stance, fire dancing along his fists.

“Try that again,” he growled, voice deep and sharp, “and I’ll burn this whole forest to the ground.”

For a beat, there was silence.

Then…

A blur moved.

Fast. Low. Silent.

Zuko barely caught the motion before it reached him. His instincts kicked in. He pivoted, fist igniting in a burst of flame, and punched toward the blur, a tight, searing strike meant to disable, not kill.

But the figure was gone.

The flame struck a tree, blackening bark.

Something tumbled past, a flash of blue and green, movement too fluid to be just a soldier.

“A woman,” Rin hissed. “That was a woman.”

Then a voice, cold and amused, from the trees above:

“I’d like to see you try.”

Zuko stepped back, fists still alight. He searched the shadows, but the blur was gone.

“Hinaro, did you see who it was?” another voice called from nearby.

Zuko turned toward the sound, and froze.

A figure was emerging from the brush: tall, young, and armored head to toe in Fire Nation red and black. No helmet. No mask. Just long black hair falling in straight rivers to his back, eyes sharp and unreadable behind circular bronze-framed lenses perched on the bridge of his nose.

His voice was calm and composed, but carried an unmistakable arrogance.

“Your Highness. I must admit, we expected you to arrive aboard a ship, not… a canoe.”

Ensign Lee.

Rin blinked. “Wait… you?”

Lee inclined his head. “I see my reputation precedes me, Seargeant Rin.”

Rin groaned. “You nearly got us killed, you insufferable son of a…”

“Correction,” Lee said, adjusting his gloves, “they nearly killed you. The Kyoshi Warriors were unaware of your stealth arrival. Had you come as instructed, this could have been avoided.”

Zuko extinguished the fire from his fists. “I didn’t want to be tracked.”

“And so instead you were nearly impaled.”

Zuko stepped closer, eyes sharp. “Was that her?”

Lee blinked. “The one who attacked?”

Zuko nodded. “Fast. Agile. Moved like a dancer.”

Lee turned his gaze toward the trees. “That would be Hinaro. She’s one of the Kyoshi elite. And exactly the person I warned about in my last report.”

Zuko gave a slow exhale.

“So she’s real.”

“Oh, exceedingly,” Lee said, straightening his coat. “And very protective of her homeland. She’s not fond of visitors, much less those who burn the sky when they arrive.”

“She’s lucky I missed,” Zuko muttered.

“She’s luckier you didn’t try again,” Lee replied.

Rin stepped forward, brushing bark and leaves from his shoulders. “So is she going to keep shooting at us, or…?”

Lee gestured calmly. “She’s already gone. She never lingers. But rest assured, she now knows you’re not a threat. Or at least, probably not.”

Zuko gave him a look.

Lee smiled faintly. “That was a joke. I was told people do that.”

Zuko exhaled slowly.

“I need to speak to Jee,” he said. “Now.”

Lee nodded. “He’s expecting you. I’ll take you to the safehouse.”

Rin shook his head as they began walking. “I swear, if one more arrow comes out of nowhere.”

“Then next time,” Zuko said dryly, “you catch it.”

They walked in single file through the underbrush, the sound of boots on damp earth and Lee’s unrelenting lecture trailing behind like a second fog.

“The terrain of Kyoshi Island,” Lee said, sweeping aside a leafy branch with the grace of someone who had clearly memorized the local botany, “is quite fascinating when studied through both geostrategic and cultural lenses. The eastern cliffs, where we intercepted your arrival, are composed primarily of volcanic basalt, worn down by centuries of oceanic erosion. They’re also where local folklore believes Avatar Kyoshi communed with the spirits.”

Rin groaned audibly. “We’re five minutes into walking, and you’ve already given a geology lecture and a ghost story.”

Lee didn’t even glance back. “Knowledge is armor, Sergeant Rin.”

“Yeah? Then someone please get me a helmet.”

Zuko chuckled under his breath but didn’t interrupt. His eyes were focused ahead, but his voice cut through cleanly.

“Tell me about the pirate attack.”

Lee straightened a little more, as though shifting to a topic he truly relished.

“A coordinated assault, orchestrated by hired privateers of unknown origin, initially presumed to be waterborne raiders, but further inspection revealed them to be Earth Kingdom proxies.”

Rin blinked. “Earth Kingdom has pirates now?”

“Not officially,” Lee replied. “But one of the captured orders bore the seal of General Fong, stationed near Omashu. We suspect it was a misdirection, a false-flag attack to destabilize Fire Nation influence before it fully took root.”

Zuko’s brows furrowed. “They attacked civilians?”

“The town square. Homes. Even the local shrine.” Lee’s voice didn’t change, but there was a flicker of heat beneath the surface. “Several Kyoshi Warriors were injured. Had Commander Jee not intervened when he did, the death toll would have been significantly higher.”

Zuko nodded. “And the villagers?”

“Rescued. Impressed, even, after the battle.”

“That’s when you gave them the marriage and surrender ultimatum?”

Lee gave a small, pleased nod. “Correct. Jee presented the scroll you provided immediately upon our arrival. A diplomatic unification effort. Fire Nation soldiers assigned as protectors and… husbands.”

Rin made a gagging sound behind them. “You guys proposed after the island got firebombed?”

Zuko smirked. “That’s one way to make an impression.”

“Believe me,” Lee replied without irony, “the combination of deliverance and alliance made the idea quite palatable to the elders. Especially when reinforced by Quartermaster Kujan’s charm and my own persuasive rationale.”

Rin muttered, “Persuasive rationale, huh?”

Lee turned his head slightly. “I used logic. And three scrolls of historical precedent.”

Rin looked at Zuko. “You sent these guys to win hearts and minds, and they showed up with math homework.”

“They got the job done,” Zuko said.

“Barely. The only thing drier than this jungle is his personality.”

Lee, undeterred, continued: “Suki, the headstrong daughter of their Captain Akari, was the most hesitant. She remains wary, rightfully so, but has not rejected the invitation.”

“Which you phrased… how?” Rin asked.

Lee cleared his throat. “‘To serve beside the prince not as prisoner, but as honored companion, granted the choice denied her during the war.’”

Zuko glanced at him. “You actually used those words?”

Lee gave a small shrug. “Not me exactly. The Commander may have added flourishes.”

“You live in flourishes,” Rin muttered.

Lee smirked faintly. “Better than living in profanity.”

The brush began to thin ahead, the trail sloping downward toward a small hollow flanked by mossy stone pillars. Hidden beneath overgrown vines was a heavy iron grate, camouflaged, hinged, and partially rusted.

Lee stepped forward and pulled a lever hidden beneath a rock.

The grate lifted with a loud mechanical clunk.

“This way,” he said. “You’ll be safe inside. The villagers allowed us use of this tunnel network.”

Rin peered inside. “And this doesn’t lead to a bear pit?”

“Only metaphorically,” Lee said. “Welcome to our safehouse.”

Zuko stepped past the gate without hesitation. “Good. I need to speak to Jee.”

Lee nodded, his tone turning more formal again. “He’s inside. We’ve secured the perimeter. I assume this visit is as urgent as we predicted.”

Zuko glanced back once at the path behind them, then descended into the passage.

“You have no idea.”

The safehouse was larger than Zuko expected.

The tunnel led to a reinforced chamber beneath the hillside, part cave, part command post. Reinforced wooden beams held up the stone ceiling, and a long metal table dominated the center, flanked by crates, wall maps, and a half-dozen lanterns dimmed to keep the light from seeping through surface cracks.

Inside stood Lieutenant Commander Jee, already in uniform, standing stiffly at attention beside a squat, broad-shouldered man wearing a dented chestplate and a crooked smirk: Quartermaster Kujan.

“Your Highness,” Jee said with a deep bow. “Welcome back to Kyoshi.”

Kujan gave a casual salute. “Look who showed up without a parade. Thought we’d be throwing flower petals or something.”

Zuko waved them both to ease. “Report.”

Jee nodded. “Everything is in motion. As per your directive, the island is now under your personal authority. Mayor Hanoo and Head Warrior Akari were notified of your imminent arrival two days ago. Word of your arrival should reach them shortly.”

“They’re expecting you to appear before the village council,” Kujan added. “They’ve prepared the formal ‘welcoming ritual.’ I’m told it involves tea, a blessing… and a lot of glares.”

“I’ll survive,” Zuko said flatly. “And the Warriors?”

“Standing down,” Jee confirmed. “Once word came from Suki that you were to be treated as an ally, the hostility faded. Mostly.”

“‘Mostly’?” Rin raised a brow.

“Let’s say… some of them still sleep with knives under the pillow,” Kujan muttered. “And after this morning’s arrow storm, I can’t blame them.”

Lee, standing by the map wall, cleared his throat. “An unfortunate misunderstanding. Already smoothed over.”

Zuko exhaled slowly. “Good. Then let’s deal with the real problem.”

The air in the room shifted. Everyone understood.

“The leak,” Zuko said.

Jee nodded grimly. “General Fong didn’t just guess Kyoshi was being courted. He sent mercs posing as pirates to destabilize it before our ships arrived. That means someone, somewhere, knew your plan.”

“And not just knew,” Lee added. “Knew early.”

Kujan leaned back against a crate. “You tellin’ us you didn’t tell anyone else? Not even the generals?”

Zuko’s eyes narrowed. “I didn’t tell a soul outside this room.”

Rin held up a hand. “Not even Azula?”

“Especially not Azula.”

Lee blinked. “Fascinating. Then the implication becomes… troubling.”

“Or obvious,” Jee said. “Someone we don’t know about got wind of it. One of the clerks? Lower-level captains? Message intercepts?”

“Already considered,” Zuko replied. “I hand-wrote the scroll to the mayor. No intermediaries. I chose you Jee and Kujan because I trust your silence.”

“Okay then,” Kujan said, rubbing his temples. “Let’s narrow it. Who knew we were sent here? Who might’ve guessed what we were doing?”

“Let’s list possibilities,” Rin said, pulling a sheet toward him. “We’ve got palace staff. Random admiralty aides. One of the sages?”

“Too messy,” Zuko said. “Kuvak only found out I left after I was gone.”

Rin crossed his arms. “What about that crazy navigator who always smells like fish?”

“He’s dead,” Lee said dryly.

“Then I rescind the suspicion.”

“Good,” Lee sniffed.

Kujan scratched the back of his neck. “Look, I hate to say it, but maybe the leak wasn’t on our end.”

Zuko frowned. “You think it came from the village?”

Kujan shrugged. “Mayor Hanoo’s a shrewd old eel. And those elders don’t trust us yet. One word from them to a sympathizer in the Earth Kingdom…”

Jee frowned. “No. We didn’t send the scroll until after we landed. The attack came immediately after our arrival. Nobody knew of our destination and the purpose of our journey. Fong was already in motion.”

That brought silence.

Zuko looked between them. “Then someone made a guess.”

Lee cleared his throat again, stepping forward. “If I may…”

Kujan groaned. “Here we go.”

Lee ignored him. “Your Highness, did it never occur to you that your choice of Kyoshi was… predictable?”

Zuko raised a brow. “Explain.”

Lee gestured precisely, hands cutting the air like a professor mid-lecture.

“Think back to your exile. When you pursued the Avatar across the Earth Kingdom and South Pole. After the capture of the Avatar, you were spotted here. We battled the Kyoshi Warriors. Burned parts of their village. Left an impression, one might even say, a legacy. The ship, your insignia, your bending skills, they were all seen. Witnessed. And remembered.”

He walked to the map, tapping it with one gloved finger.

“Now imagine a military strategist in the Earth Kingdom, General Fong, perhaps, reviewing the state of the world. He sees your coronation. Hears of the Avatar’s escape. Wonders where the Fire Nation might attempt to tighten its grip next. Where was the Avatar last seen in the public besides the Fire Nation. On Kyoshi Island.”

He looked at them all.

“Would it not make sense that he might anticipate your return to the last place the Avatar was seen during your rise?”

Jee rubbed his chin. “So you’re saying… there was no leak.”

Lee nodded. “Only assumption. Informed deduction.”

Kujan squinted. “That’s the dumbest smart thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Agreed,” Rin added. “I need subtitles to understand this guy.”

Zuko stared at the map, jaw tight.

“…But it fits.”

Rin glanced sideways. “So what? This wasn’t betrayal, it was foresight?”

Lee smiled thinly. “Sometimes the most dangerous information isn’t what’s whispered… it’s what’s obvious.”

Zuko exhaled and leaned on the table. “If that’s true, we’re dealing with a tactician. Not a mole.”

“And if it’s not true?” Jee asked.

“Then someone still talked,” Zuko said, voice low. “And I’ll find out who.”

Zuko stood straight and let his fingers drum lightly against the edge of the map table. The flickering lanternlight threw shadows up his scarred cheek, highlighting the narrow tightness of his eyes.

“We’ll meet them at noon,” he said at last. “Formal, but without fanfare. Have the Fire Nation standards displayed, but no helmets. No marching.”

Jee nodded. “You want to look like diplomats, not conquerors.”

“Exactly,” Zuko replied. “Let the island see that I came in peace. That we’re not here with chains.”

“Subtle,” Rin muttered. “But I liked the chains better.”

Zuko didn’t dignify it with a glance.

“Kujan,” he added, “organize the honor escort. Two banners. No spears. And keep your mouth shut unless spoken to.”

Kujan grinned. “I feel targeted.”

“You are.”

Zuko’s tone was final. “Go. Prepare.”

The three men gave nods of varying sharpness, then moved toward the stairwell, Rin with a lazy groan, Kujan humming something tuneless under his breath, and Jee glancing back once with his usual calm before disappearing out the passage.

That left Zuko… and Lee.

The safehouse quieted again. Zuko stood by the map. Lee stayed near the crates, arms folded behind his back like a statue waiting for a question.

It came quickly.

“How’s the crew?” Zuko asked.

Lee blinked once, caught just slightly off guard by the shift in tone.

“Tense,” he answered. “But loyal.”

“No issues?”

“None to report. Ensign Kujan remains… spirited. And our newer recruits have acclimated. But there’s been no sedition. No suspicion. Not even whispers.”

Zuko nodded slowly.

“And you?”

Lee tilted his head. “My loyalty is undiminished.”

“I wasn’t asking about that,” Zuko said, sharper than before. “I’m asking about her.”

Lee didn’t flinch. But his breath caught, just for a moment.

“Hinaro.”

Zuko turned his head slightly.

“You mentioned her in your report.”

“I did.”

“You said she was unpredictable. Dangerous. That she’s suspicious of the Fire Nation, of you… and not in line for what the elders agreed upon, yet…” He took a step forward. “You didn’t mention that she saved you.”

Lee finally met his gaze.

“She didn’t.”

Zuko frowned.

“She spared me,” Lee corrected. “There’s a difference.”

“Still sounds like a connection.”

Lee was quiet for a moment. Then, almost hesitantly, he spoke:

“She’s a contradiction. Fierce, but calculated. Loyal to her island. Hates occupation, but follows orders from Suki without question. And… when she moves…”

He trailed off.

Zuko arched a brow. “Are you smitten, Lee?”

Lee’s mouth flattened. “I don’t indulge in primitive infatuations.”

Zuko turned away, hiding a smirk. “That wasn’t a no.”

Lee stepped closer, lowering his voice a fraction.

“My Prince, my loyalty to you cannot be understated. Lieutenant Commander Jee only assigned me to her because he trusts me.”

“Falling for her is not my issue Lee,” Zuko warned. “I trust that you are loyal to your ambitions but I also believe your ambitions are tied to my own ambitions.”

“I understand sire,” Lee accepted. “She actually remembers our last time here very vividly.”

Zuko’s expression hardened.

“She was a girl when you burned their shrine. She saw you fight the Avatar. Saw what you left behind. I believe she’s been training ever since, for the day she could face you again.”

“And now I’m here as their ruler,” Zuko said dryly.

Lee nodded. “History has a sense of irony.”

Zuko looked back to the map one last time.

“Keep her close,” he said quietly. “But don’t get stupid.”

Lee allowed himself a small smile. “Stupid would require emotional impulse. I’m not Kujan.”

“No,” Zuko said. “You’re worse. People like you who would rather bury their feelings have a hard time controlling them when they come forth. People like Kujan, they have a much easier time of it. You’d write a love letter and footnote it.”

Lee folded his arms. “In ancient script probably.”

They stood in silence for a long moment.

Outside, the sounds of boots and murmured orders rose faintly through the stairwell. Noon was approaching. And the island was beginning to stir.

Zuko took a breath and turned.

“Let’s see how much they still hate me.”

[A/N: Can’t wait to see what happens next? Get exclusive early access on .com/saiyanprincenovels.]