Too Far Away

Chapter Eight: Me, I've Been Fine

Tongyi was restless and seemed to be impatient for Zuko to hurry up and write his reply, so he made a point of feeding him before he started. It was a different kind of cake than what Zuko normally gave him, but Tongyi didn't seem to mind at all.

Song Lee,

Thank you for your faith that I will capture the Avatar. Since I have written to you last, he has evaded me multiple times, sometimes with the help of two siblings from the Southern Water Tribe. It is beyond irritating, but I've got a lead that should eventually lead me directly to them. They won't avoid me for long.

Tongyi is impatient with me today. If I could speak Falcon, I would ask him why. I think that it's just that the long journey too me made him miss you, though, even though I usually feed him as much cake as he will eat.

Zuko considered writing about how Song Lee was unforgettable in all of the best ways, but in the end, he decided not to. He didn't know what to write, or how to put what he meant into words, or how to really lay himself vulnerable like that. Of course, all of the letters needed a sort of vulnerability to be written honestly, but that was different then directly telling her about his thoughts and feelings about her.

I think writing a book about your theories would be a good idea. You've got a lot of ideas and theories and conclusions, and they could inspire other people to come up with the technology you need to test them. What kinds of technologies do you need? Better telescopes?

He felt completely out of his depth asking, since probably everything he knew about astronomy was from listening to Song Lee or reading her letters over and over again.

What are the titles of some of the scrolls and books you mentioned? And I'm curious to know more about your theories. What are some of your favorites?

After that, he didn't know what else to say. The letter seemed far too short, especially compared to what she had sent him. For a moment, as he stared at Tongyi's scar, he considered writing about being unforgettable in all of the best ways, after all.

In the end, though, he simply sighed and finished:

I eagerly await your reply,

Zuko

It had taken two long, excruciating weeks to get to the refugee port from the desert village, and Song Lee had gotten steadily worse. It had been difficult to get her through the secret checkpoint and onto one of the ferries into Ba-Sing-Se; Iroh had needed to convince the passport woman that she wasn't contagious, even though it was obvious that she was on the verge of death. If it weren't for his charm, Zuko knew that they probably wouldn't be safe and on the ferry, that they would be forced to find another, much more difficult way into the city. If that had been the case, he didn't think that they would have been able to make it with the condition that they were in.

It took twenty-four hours to get to the city from the cave, they found out. Iroh and Zuko reserved a spot next to the hull. They took turns staying by Song Lee's side; Iroh got her tea and actual bandages, and he kept the wound as clean as he could. Zuko just held her and wiped her brow and face clear of drool and perspiration and the spray of ocean water, the latter of which had already dampened Zuko's hair and clothes. It was cold, actually—the mist seemed to get inside of him and chill his bones. It clung tightly to Song Lee's lashes.

He didn't remember ever being so scared.

She hadn't woken up once she she'd collapsed in the desert. Every breath seemed weaker than the last, and every flicker of her eyelids sent a rush of agony through him when they never opened. It didn't help that the food aboard the ship that they were given was barely edible and heavily rationed. It was already hard enough to feed her, and the minutes seemed to stretch on and on without any signs of coming to a stop.