The harbor looked like a stalemate carved into stone.
Zuko's outdated cruiser slid in between two walls of steel and banners, one blackened metal with the red banners of the Fire Lord's crown, the other gilded and flying the golden spearhead of House Arza. On the eastern quay, where royal pennants snapped from an Empire-class battleship, Commander Zhao's phoenix-headed prow towered directly to the right of Zuko's dwarfed vessel. On the opposite side, Lord Arza's own battleship was only a few paces away in gold-wrapped steel, and only by their grace did they allow Zuko the central position as the prince, banished as he was.
On the ground at Zuko and Iroh's immediate disembark, they were between the two forces that separated like oil and water, leaving a clear strip of dock like no-man's-land where skittish dockworkers tried not to stay for long. Men in both colors stood back from it a little too carefully, hands never far from weapons, eyes never quite relaxed.
"Mmm," Iroh murmured at Zuko's shoulder. "Tension between Lord Arza and the Fire Lord again," and he breathed out a tired sigh, having clearly seen such issues before. "I recommend not taking sides, or getting involved."
Zuko grunted. "Don't need to tell me that." His boots were on the loud metal of the prow's ramp the instant it came to rest.
Waiting at the bottom were the two men Zuko least wished to meet with, except perhaps his own father.
Commander Zhao, sideburns oiled and armor gleaming, stood with two elite firebenders at his back. Opposite him, with a pair of his own spear-wielding firebenders, was Lord Arza himself, throwing his weight around in a black and gold surcoat with a house emblem so gilded and encrusted with jewels it likely cost as much as one of his ostentatious warships.
And in Lord Arza's right hand, point resting on the stone, was the spear. Of all the fabulous gems and ornaments in his treasury, as he was the lord of the most valuable gemstone and rare metal mines in the Fire Nation, that spear stood out as the most legendary and priceless.
But Arzayanagi looked instantly odd in the daylight. Too much light reflected off its curves, which even at a distance made one's eyes flicker and focus unnaturally, with a sense of ancient dread accompanying any more than cursory inspection of its impossible, infinitely fractal design.
The shaft was a depthless matte black that swallowed the sun, banded here and there in gold like bindings on a dangerous scroll of obsidian void that was barely contained. The spearhead was all hard-edged geometry, ostensibly ornamental but with an edge that made Zuko's skin crawl to look at as he came to stop before the unfortunately waiting men. Arza held it point very straight down, like anything else would be reckless.
Even with the blade angled carefully away from any flame, Zuko could feel firebending breathing out of it—a coiled pressure in the air, every brazier on the dock seemed to lean toward it.
"Prince Zuko," Zhao called, stepping forward with a shallow bow. "And General Iroh. Fire Lord Ozai sends his regards, I'm sure." And he gave a wicked grin as he glanced to Arzayanagi and back again. "It's hungry today," he said of the weapon. "I see you can sense it. It's... invigorating, isn't it?" He had all too much satisfaction.
Zuko did feel like his own bending was a bit stronger just by being in the spear's presence, but to Zhao he barely dipped his chin. "Commander Zhao," he flatly paid the least respect he could get away with. His eyes were already on the actual noble lord behind Zhao.
Lord Arza wore dark armor worked with gold in the shape of flames and spearheads, seeming afraid of reds with his muted greys in their place, although his soldiers still wore properly red Fire Nation garb. Faint streaks of grey threaded his slicked black hair too, angular like a weapon, there was nothing soft about him. His gaze was as bright and cutting as the spear point, but an old and faded familiar purple burn scar was visible on his neck and up his right cheek, making him favor a goatee style more common in the Earth Kingdom, sides burned and all.
When that gaze fell fully on Zuko, the air seemed to tighten.
"Lord Arza," Iroh said, tone smoothing; he bowed deeper than he had for Zhao. "It has been many years."
Arza's eyes flicked to him. Something shifted—recognition, an old, complicated anger that wasn't for Iroh alone. "General Iroh," he said. "You have my respect." The words came out gravel-rough, but not hostile. "Your legend is still thicker than your waistline, by a margin."
Iroh didn't take the bait at all, smiling as he patted his belly cheerfully. "Alas. It is harder to lose than my hair."
Arza's men smothered grins, and they almost looked like they were hoping somebody would make a move they'd regret. Arza's mouth twitched; even Zuko, distracted by a thousand other thoughts, could tell the man was barely keeping his composure.
When his gaze slid back to Zuko, and the absence of softness somehow became a deficit.
"You," he said.
No title. No honorific. Just the word, dropped like something rotten.
Zuko lifted his chin. "Lord Arza." Genuinely unsure what he had done to offend the man, but ready for the worst after his daughter jumped him so recently.
For a moment they just stared at each other. Zuko could see—felt more than saw—that Lord Arza was measuring him, not just as a prince or a firebender, but as something else entirely. Whatever he found, it seemed to baffle and frustrate the man, like he couldn't quite believe the sight of him.
Zhao, very aware of the charged silence, stepped into it with forced smoothness. "We are honored to have two such… distinguished members of the royal family sharing the harbor," he said. "A good omen, surely, before Lord Arza's army marches inland for Omashu, and my fleet sails north." His eyes gleamed. "Hopefully for your hunt of the Avatar, too, Prince Zuko." He added like a taunt.
Zuko bristled. "The Avatar can't hide forever." Trying very hard not to show any sign he was just stopping for coal so he could actually chase after the finally revealed fugitive.
"We shall see," Zhao said pleasantly. Then, with careful deference, "Lord Arza, I understand you mean to take Omashu personally. A bold move for a naval commander. Perhaps General Iroh could offer you some wisdom for such a campaign?"
Arza didn't look at him at first. His hand shifted on the spear, thumb brushing the black metal like an old habit. "Only a fool would underestimate King Bumi, of course. But Arzayanagi hasn't been this... eager... since I inherited it. He will be its first victim in decades if he faces me."
Iroh couldn't help but raise a finger and wisely insist, "a show of force with such a weapon, Lord Arza, should be enough to make them surrender. More survivors means more new subjects and more taxes, after all."
Zhao looked offended at the mere suggestion of mercy, but Lord Arza simply shrugged and tersely said, "a fair point."
Zhao's eyes went, unwillingly fascinated, to Arzayanagi. "It would be a shame not to let it sink its teeth into fresh meat after it slept for so long, though."
"Personally, I would rather it wasn't quite so... temperamental," Arza said quietly. He angled the blade up to face a lone brazier, almost as if tossing it a treat, and the flames jumped several feet higher with a noisy rush. "But... I will not face Omashu without it." He breathed out like it was a chore just to wield it.
Zuko snorted before he could stop himself. "You talk like it has moods."
Arza's eyes snapped back to him, sharp as a thrown knife.
Zhao shot Zuko a warning glance. "Prince Zuko," he said, half-scolding, half-curious. "Arzayanagi is a sacred relic of the Fire Nation. House Arza's duty to—"
"It's a weapon," Zuko cut in, irritation and pain from his bruised ribs leaking into his voice. "It's powerful, I can feel it. But so is a volcano. Doesn't make it a person."
"You have never held it," Arza said. His tone stayed soft, but the braziers on the dock guttered and rose with the words, and a slight smile betrayed his intention to make sure Zuko never had the privilege. "You have no idea," he breathed out with reverence.
"I have," Iroh said quietly.
Zuko and Zhao both glanced at him.
"At the royal palace, I recall, your brother requested to inspect it," Lord Arza said with unhidden malice that made Zhao grit his teeth from the tension. "I would have refused. My father was still its guardian then."
Iroh's usually warm eyes were distant. "You won't get an argument from me," he went on. "I wish I'd never held it." He looked at the spear, and for a heartbeat there was something like respect and unease in his expression before turning to his nephew. "Lord Arza does not exaggerate. There is real rage in that metal."
"It is nothing to fear," Arza said. "For House Arza," and he outright wallowed in the smugness.
Zhao, of all people, was the one to break the tension. He cleared his throat. "Speaking of rage," he said smoothly, "I commend you on your restraint, Lord Arza." His eyes glittered as he looked between Zuko and Arza, like he hoped he'd just ignited a powder keg. "Over your daughter."
The sentence hung open like a raw wound, Zuko's face drooping at the vexing thought of Raven having ambushed him. Lord Arza was a paper white mask of evil, Zhao had a predatory gaze, Iroh sensed something was very off but not why, and Zuko couldn't see past his own slightly scorched nose.
"So you know about that, huh?" the prince said as he rolled the shoulder that still ached from where Raven had thrown both feet into her brutal first strike. "For someone so weak she sure was a nuisance. I don't suppose you know why she decided to get in my way, do you, Lord Arza? No, ah, offense." He awkwardly finished when it occurred to him he was talking about the man's daugther, but he'd known her so long it was hard not to just speak of her casually.
Zhao stared at Zuko in abject disbelief, not hiding it at all as he took a long step back to not be between Lord Arza and the prince, although sensing hostility, Iroh actually stepped closer.
"You... you... I will..." Lord Arza twitched and growled, hands shaking as he shifted to hold the spear in both, low and not quite yet in a combat stance as flickers of flame came out with his long, shuddering exhalation.
Zhao's brows arched. "By the spirits, Prince Zuko—" he incredulously laughed as he held up both hands.
"Like the little twerp didn't have it coming, did she mention she started it? Worst possible time I was just about to—ah—well, timing was bad," Zuko cluelessly shrugged, but tensed up just before foolishly giving away his sighting of the Avatar.
Lord Arza was very still, then suddenly raised the spear, but even as he moved Iroh and Zhao rushed to the lord's sides.
"I'll kill him, let me go! I'LL BURN YOU RIGHT INTO THE STONE, DEATH IS TOO GOOD FOR YOU, YOU—GRAHHH!" Lord Arza raged as the spearhead glinted in the evening sunlight and heat came off it in waves, but Iroh and Zhao were dragging him backwards.
"Of course you'd just side with her anyway," Zuko angrily shouted back. "It's not my fault she's crazy!"
"No, lemme go, ngh, GRAHH!!!" Lord Arza struggled as his own elite firebenders helped grapple and rip Arzayanagi away from him, uneasily chanting at him like a mantra that he had told them to stop him, he had told them to stop him! He made them promise!
"No, Lord Arza, you can't Agni Kai the royals right now!" a sub-commander of his shouted loudly over the man's progressively less coherent ranting. "Remember the agreements!"
Zuko was about to laugh at the absurdity when he caught a good look of Lord Arza's silent and murderous face as he breathed and calmed himself with four men holding him in place where he stood, and a fifth scampered off with the spear to keep him from blowing up the harbor with it.
"Prince Zuko," Iroh said severely. "Don't make things worse!"
Zuko blinked, finally noticing the way every eye in the harbor had pinned him. He straightened, half out of pride, half out of reflex. Despite Lord Arza's outburst, he was the center of attention, and for some reason that just pissed him off even more. "I don't answer to you!" he shouted really in equal parts at his uncle and Lord Arza. "And quit gawking, don't you have work to do?!" he bellowed at the nearby soldiers and laborers who had gathered, and they scattered.
"I could challenge him to an Agni Kai in your place if it would please you, Lord Arza," Zhao said with a too polite tone as he gestured to Zuko.
Zuko instantly thumbed his nose at that. "When I win, you all can't mention that idiot around me again, how's that?" He regretted it the instant it left his mouth, but pride refused to call it back. Despite his desire to catch the Avatar, he did actually have the slightest glimmer of curiosity over why Raven was so angry.
"No," Arza said as Iroh and Zhao finally trusted enough to let him go. The word came out like a spark landing on dry tinder. "If there is an Agni Kai, it will be with me. The Fire Lord was far too gentle with you, boy."
He spun on his boot and strode away, his elite spearmen hurrying after with one carrying the now black cloth-wrapped Arzayanagi alongside them. Every torch nearby dimmed a bit in the weapon's absence, and Zuko felt a bit colder.
Zhao exhaled so hard his sideburns fluttered as he hurried back over to the prince, Iroh just behind, and to Zuko unexpectedly eagerly adopted an almost proud smile and said, "your father was wrong about you, Prince Zuko. I wouldn't dare say half of that to Lord Arza, not while he's wielding Arzayanagi. Where'd that heart of steel come from, huh?" he laughed aloud, but only after glancing to be sure Lord Arza was fully out of earshot.
Zuko barely glanced Zhao's way as he breathed out, "look, we're just here to refuel. I don't have time to tip toe around the feelings of the pompous dad of a girl who's too stupid to live. I don't know what happened to her after she fell, and... I don't care." He crossed his arms to go on, but hated himself for faltering slightly.
Zhao fought a shiver. Unbelievable, he thought, both appalled and impressed. Iroh seemed to be studying both him and Zuko in equal measure like he was searching for clues.
"My fleet heads north in the morning, if you need assistance, you're cleared to approach," Commander Zhao stated as he backed up and bowed respectfully. "But I have matters to attend to."
Zuko and Iroh watched him go, and they both took a deep breath. "I thought he'd never leave," Zuko grumbled as he nearly ripped the parchment while signing off on a fuel requisition.
"They're insane," he snapped, pacing tight lines along the rail. "Both of them. Him, his house, that spear. Acting like I spit on the sun just by mentioning Raven, who ambushed me, by the way. Moron doesn't even know how an Agni Kai works, like how is that supposed to prove anything?!" He made a sharp, angry gesture. "Agh!" he winced from the pain in his still bruised chest. "What, do they think I dumped her or something?!" He threw up his hands in resignation. "I was banished, what do they want from me?! Should go yell at father, not me..." he puffed and raged but eventually just looked tired.
"So that was the girl, then?" Iroh curiously asked. "The one who attacked you? It was Lady Raven Arza?"
"Yes!" Zuko instantly shot back. "But I don't care about that! Like I need more people stabbing me in the back! Nnnrgh! I was so close, uncle! He was right there!"
Iroh held up his hands, clenching his teeth. "Not so loud, Prince Zuko!"
Zuko bit back the retort. He realized he'd be a fool to announce his sighting of the Avatar so soon. He needed to get back out on the sea as soon as possible, and just the sight of the obnoxiously slow moving coal carts was making him sweat.