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Hakoda keeps a vigil.
Iroh had wanted to stay, to wait out this fever with his nephew, but the Fire Nation needed a leader who wasn’t delirious with fever. The other White Lotus members were attending to matters in their own kingdoms, and so Iroh had locked eyes with Hakoda, debating if he could trust the unfamiliar warrior with his most precious charge. Iroh had heard the rumors of course, Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe, headstrong and ruthless in battle. But he also knew that this man had raised Sokka and Katara with patience and gentleness. Hakoda locked eyes with Iroh and stepped forward. “I can watch him. I’ve done it before.” Iroh can’t find any ruthlessness in the way those blue eyes look at his nephew. He trusts Hakoda.
So Hakoda keeps a vigil.
He pulls a chair up to the side of the cot that the prince—no, Fire Lord—is resting on. Katara had told him, with tears in her eyes, that Zuko had taken lightening meant for her. He’d jumped in the path of pure energy, without being grounded to the earth, and redirected it away from Katara. Zuko let his own body burn from the inside out to protect Katara. Hakoda wonders how he can ever thank the boy.
Katara has done everything she can to heal him. “He has to pull through on his own. I healed his internal burns, but his system is still in panic mode. His body is still trying to fight off its attacker, and I think it might be attacking itself in turn.” Hakoda had shuddered at that. He’d seen older and stronger men than Zuko lose the war against their own bodies. Infections that turned inwards, starvation that decimated muscles, broken bones that refused to heal. He had never seen anything like this.
“How do I treat him?” He asked his daughter.
She shook her head. “Keep him calm, hydrated and fed if you can. His mind needs to win this battle.”
In another time, Hakoda will marvel at how strong his daughter became in her years away from him. She’s been designated as the palace’s unofficial healer and gets to work immediately. Zuko is far from her only patient. Sokka had fucked up his leg, Toph now has a bad shoulder, and news had spread quickly of The Healer in Capitol City. Katara has her hands full.
And with a feverish Fire Lord, Hakoda does too. The first day of his vigil, Zuko doesn’t stir at all. Hakoda keeps lugging a basin back and forth between the infirmary and the washroom, getting the coldest water he can without it being freezing. He knows firebenders tend to run hotter than the average person, but Zuko was almost boiling before his eyes. Almost as soon as a cool washcloth hits his skin, it starts to steam. Hakoda gives up and resorts to just dipping a washcloth in the basin full of cold water, wiping the Fire Lord’s face and neck gently with it, and then wringing out the now lukewarm water into another basin. Wash, rinse, repeat.
While Hakoda is certain that Zuko isn’t aware of his surroundings at all, he takes care to be gentle around the angry scar on the left side of the boy’s face. He pauses his process to push a few sweaty tufts of hair away from Zuko’s forehead. Hakoda could swear that Zuko leans into the gentle touch and the cool hand on his face. He’s never asked about the scar, it’s not his place, but anyone could see that the Fire Lord was starved for any kind of nonviolent touch. Hakoda is more than happy to give it to him while Zuko lies on an infirmary cot, dead to the world, and unable to be embarrassed.
I can watch him. I’ve done it before.
It was on their way back from the Boiling Rock when Hakoda noticed the slightest shivers wracking Zuko’s body. Chit Sang was tending to the boiler room, Sokka and Suki were passed out on a pile of blankets, and Zuko was sitting with his back against a wall, knees tucked to his chin, shivering. Hakoda scrounged up another blanket and approached Zuko. “Do you mind if I sit here?”
Zuko flinched minutely but nodded mutely. Hakoda settled down next to him, close enough for their shoulders to brush, but far enough that Zuko could break the contact easily if he wanted to. “I couldn’t help but notice you’re shivering. I brought you a blanket.” Hakoda unfolded the grey blanket. “Can I put it around your shoulders?” Zuko nodded again mutely. Hakoda moved slowly, projecting his movements so that Zuko wouldn’t be startled even with one good eye. “Sokka mentioned a foiled escape attempt—did it involve you getting put inside one of those freezers?”
Zuko stilled “The coolers,” he rasped. “It wasn’t his fault—it was mine. I thought, I thought my breath of fire would protect me.”
Hakoda had hummed, noted the way Zuko quickly jumped to defend Sokka. “It’s okay, Zuko. Why don’t you get some sleep? I’ll be right here if you three need anything.”
Zuko nodded for a final time, already drifting off. Within moments, Hakoda felt the weight of the Fire Prince slump against him. Thank Tui and La. He stayed there, through Zuko’s fitful sleeping, making sure the boy stayed warm enough. If he had heard Zuko whimper before burrowing his head closer to Hakoda, well that was none of the Chief’s business. He just held the boy a little tighter.
Now, as Hakoda reflects on his first time watching over Zuko, he’s struck by the irony. The first time, the firebender had been too cold—and now he was too damn hot. His fever shows no sign of breaking anytime soon, so Hakoda makes another trek for fresh cold water. Remembering Katara’s advice, he grabs a pitcher and cup as well. He should try and rouse Zuko before the day is out and try and get some fluids in him. Hakoda returns to find the infirmary not as quiet as when he left it. Zuko’s still on the cot, thrashing. Hakoda sets his supplies down and rushes to his side. His fever’s not any worse, so this must be a nightmare. Keep him calm, Katara’s voice rings in his head.
“Fire Lord,” Hakoda tries. Zuko flinches away from the sound. He makes a desperate sound at the back of his throat. He chokes around a gasp and his neck arches like someone’s pulled him back by his hair.
“Zuko,” Hakoda tries again, more gently this time. Hakoda places one hand softly on his cheek and the reaction is immediate and sickening.
“Please,” Zuko chokes around the word but doesn’t attempt to move away from Hakoda’s hand. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Zuko whimpers.
“Zuko, it’s okay, you’re safe here, you have nothing to be sorry for.” Hakoda moves his hand to Zuko’s shoulder and shakes him gently. “Zuko, you need to wake up.”
“Father, forgive me.” Hakoda feels like someone’s punched all the air out him. “I didn’t know—I won’t do it again—please.”
Whatever Zuko’s reliving is escalating and Hakoda feels powerless to stop it. In a panic, Hakoda climbs onto the cot and hoists the boy into his arms. “It’s okay, Zuko.” He rubs circles into Zuko’s back. Slowly, Zuko stops whimpering and shaking. Hakoda pulls away from him and fills the cup with the water he’d collected earlier. Cupping one hand behind Zuko’s head, he brings the cup to the boy’s lips. “Drink,” he pleads, and Zuko does. Hakoda’s able to get three cups of water in him before Zuko’s completely unconscious again. Hakoda gingerly lays him back down and returns to his seat beside the cot. Hydrated, check.
The second day of his vigil, Zuko has a few hours of consciousness. Hakoda asks the guard outside to send for some broth and Zuko stirs awake. “Chief Hakoda?” He tries to push himself to sit upright but cries out when his chest screams in pain.
“It’s me Zuko, I’m taking care of you.” Hakoda helps prop him up with a few pillows. “It’s been two days since the Comet. Yes, Katara and the others are fine, Ozai is incapacitated, and Iroh is running the nation while you recover.”
Zuko nods, processing the new information. “Incapacitated?”
“Aang took away his firebending. He won’t be able to hurt anyone else.” He won’t be able to hurt you.
There’s a knock at the door. “Enter,” says Hakoda. A servant enters with a tray and sets it on a table before bowing lowly to Zuko and giving another bow to Hakoda. “Thank you,” Hakoda bows his head back, at which the servant blushes and hurries out of the room. What a strange place this is.
Zuko must see the confusion on his face. “They’re not… used to being acknowledged.” Hakoda gives him a look. Zuko shrugs. “You’ve seen how Ozai treated his children, I think you can imagine how he treated the servants.” Hakoda wants to insist that no, he hasn’t seen how Ozai treated his children, but Zuko beats him to it. The boy gestures broadly to the left side of his face, grimacing when the movement tugs on his bandages.
If Hakoda hadn’t been tasked with watching over Zuko, he’d be throwing up at the realization of just how much the child had suffered. He instead changes the subject by investigating the food brought by the servant. Broth, as he had requested, along with tea and some plain crackers. He’ll start with the broth and see how things progress. Zuko keeps it down, much to Hakoda’s surprise, and Hakoda lets the meal settle before suggesting that they redress Zuko’s wound. Food, check.
Zuko unties the loose sash holding his tunic together as Hakoda gathers more supplies from around the room. There isn’t any new blood seeping through the old bandages and it’s a welcome sight. Zuko starts to remove the bandages on his own but hisses when the angle tugs at his skin. “Let me help,” Hakoda unwraps the bandages with the gentleness and ease of a man who’s done this hundreds of times before. Zuko knows Hakoda has probably seen far more wounds than he’d like to. With the bandages removed, Hakoda’s pleased to see a marked improvement over the last time he saw Zuko’s chest. While still raw, the inflammation has gone down considerably, and he sees no sign of infection. Hakoda soaks a new washcloth with fresh water and begins to clean the wound, noting how Zuko’s hands tightened into fists. “I know it hurts, Zuko, I’m sorry.”
Zuko shakes his head. “Don’t apologize—I don’t, I don’t deserve it.” Hakoda’s hand stiffens.
“Zuko, you don’t deserve to be in pain. If we’re being entirely honest, you deserve a healer far better than me. You saved my daughter’s life, Zuko. I owe you a life debt.” Hakoda bows his head to the Fire Lord.
“Please don’t,” Zuko whispers. “Please, Chief Hakoda, you don’t have to bow to me.”
Hakoda straightens. “Let’s strike a deal then. I won’t bow to you and you’ll let me take care of you.”
Zuko sighs. So that’s where Sokka gets his negotiating skills from. “Okay.”
The third day of his vigil, Zuko’s finally able to move slowly without pain. Of course, the first thing his does is request ink and paper to start work on peace treaties. Hakoda doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to get the Fire Lord to rest again. When Iroh joins them and sees the improvements Zuko’s health under Hakoda’s watchful eye, he thanks him and bows deeply. “Thank you, Chief Hakoda, for watching over my nephew.” Hakoda nods back, a little stunned to see the Dragon of the West bowing to him.
“It was my pleasure.”
Hakoda ends his vigil, but he keeps a watchful eye over Zuko. The child has been hurt enough for a dozen lifetimes. The next person who harms him will face the wrath of Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe, headstrong and ruthless.