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The Child Avatar

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The Avatar sat cross legged on the floor, a scowl directed up at Zuko. His wrists were cuffed and resting in his lap, his shoulders drawn in, tense and guarded.

The teen sighed, looking down at the small form. A child, the avatar was a child. He hadn’t even learned any other elements yet, of that Zuko was sure. In his struggle to escape he had only attempted to use his airbending.

Zuko thought he could catch a glimmer of fear in those gray eyes and it made something ache inside him.

“I brought tea,” he said, setting down the tray in front of the bars separating them. He lowered himself so he was seated across from the boy, no longer looming above him. He kept himself poised, pouring the tea, and pretending not to notice the flicker of confusion that lit in the Avatar’s eyes.

He merely slid the teacup through the gap in the bars, pouring his own. In this moment he was glad uncle had taught him about tea. It gave him something to do, a… not a peace offering. But a way to perhaps ease the situation.

Anything to ease the tense line of those shoulders and the fear shining in those eyes. Zuko would never admit it out loud, but he loathed the idea of a kid being scared of him. Not so long ago he had been a scared kid. He resisted the urge to reach up and touch his scar.

He did not want the avatar to be scarred like him, but he knew he might suffer far worse.