Disclaimer: I don't own Avatar: The Last Airbender. It owns me.

Summary: Two injured souls, two uncertain paths, two nights of searching for answers, and only one blanket. ZukoSong.

The Spear and the Shield

Chapter Three: The Masks We Wear

It was stupid, really. She didn't have to come along with him. Granted the storm was dying down and Zuko still felt a bit weak from the ordeal, but there was no sense in risking her own health. If they both managed to get sick there was no telling how long they'd be stuck in that run-down little shack of a home and that thought didn't bother him quite as much as it should have.

Her behavior after the kiss was enough to tell him that she wasn't comfortable with the sudden shift in their relationship – if what they had could even be called a relationship. Song didn't show any obvious dislike of the kiss itself, but it was clear she didn't intend to remain alone with him any longer. He simply shrugged off her anxiety as a symptom of the girl's sense of honor. After all, being alone with a man probably wasn't adding a good mark on Song's reputation. Come to think of it, traveling alone wasn't such a good move if she was so concerned about propriety. With all the chaos that had unfolded Zuko hadn't really given much thought to this. Had she really traveled by herself all this way?

Through the pouring rain he observed the young woman who had so quickly suggested that they go in search for food. First she had been receptive of his advances and now she insisted on distance. Women were such irrational creatures. Zuko doubted he would ever figure out how their minds worked.

During Song's earlier search of the woods surrounding the house she had stumbled across other herbs. Not medicinal, but at least edible. She added a few mushrooms to her pile, carefully inspecting each one. A number of species of mushrooms were poisonous and picking them in the wild was risky. It was not a task for amateurs. Separating the poisonous from the edible depends upon only a few recognizable traits. She had already rejected several of her companion's contributions, explaining that the chanterelles he picked were false. A raised brow testified to his inexperience and she was forced to explain by showing him the underside with its sharp gills when a real chanterelle would have blunt veins.

It was becoming more and more apparent in Song's eyes that Zuko had not been prepared for a life outside a palace. He was strong, determined, and perhaps even resourceful when so inclined, but when it came to the simple task of finding food he seemed to be as helpless as a child. But why shouldn't he be? Zuko had been a prince after all. He couldn't help but be spoiled after living in a castle with servants to tend to his every need.

Song felt the rift between them grow even wider. She was a farmer's daughter who knew nothing about life outside peasantry and him a former prince who knew nothing of poverty. But he was learning, she guessed, in his new state as a fugitive. How quickly the proud can fall into despair.

Song knew that all too well.

"What is it?" Zuko gingerly sniffed the contents of the pot boiling over the fire inside the cabin.

"Not much," she answered. Song stirred the soup filled with the results of their foraging. "But it's better than nothing. I'm sorry there isn't more."

"Don't apologize when you're not at fault."

She was avoiding his gaze again and it was starting to grate on his nerves. Why so timid all of the sudden? Zuko opened his mouth to question her, but after a moment's hesitation he closed it again.

There were a lot of things he didn't know about Song, but even more things the girl didn't know about him. He was grateful for this. Song had accepted his apology as well as only a few vague answers to her questions without forcing him to elaborate on the circumstances leading up to his exile and criminal life.

It was strange. The Zuko of his past was the one that he was most proud of, the life when he was still Prince Zuko and the citizens of his country bowed in his presence. Yet here was Song, seeing only the pale imitation of his former glory and witness to his own acts of desperation and still she did not hate him. She was seeing him at his most vulnerable, but when he hated himself for such weakness, she had accepted him. Forgiven him.

They ate their meal in uncomfortable silence. Zuko found himself wanting her to say something – anything, if only to remind him that he was not alone in this house. Song seemed content to eat quietly, forcing Zuko to find something to say.

"How is your mother?" The words felt strange on his lips. Truly, he hated small talk, but hopefully he could lead the conversation in the right direction.

She looked up wide-eyed, having not expected such a question. "She's fine. Thank you for asking. How is your uncle?"

Ouch. This was not the direction he had intended. Desperate to avoid any explanation of why Iroh was not accompanying him now, he simply ignored the question. "Your mother must be worried about you. How long since you left to search for me?" Despite the risk he was going to push his luck. He needed to know if she was being truthful.

She took a moment to form an answer, obviously a bit put off by his evasiveness and sudden interrogation. "My mother is an independent woman. She is more than capable of handling the chores while I'm gone."

"But she must miss you," he continued on. "What do you plan to do once the storm passes? Are you going to travel home by yourself?"

"Why do you ask? Are you having second thoughts about returning the ostrich horse?" She asked defensively.

How he hated the way she would answer a question with a question. "That's not it," he assured her. "I only meant that your mother must be worried with her only daughter traveling alone. It's dangerous."

Tears were starting to form in her eyes and for the life of him, Zuko couldn't figure out why she was getting so upset.

"Don't concern yourself with my mother," her voice was like steel wrapped in velvet. "She's done more than enough for you."

Now he was getting pissed. What the hell was that all about? After everything she said was Song still angry with him for lying to her? Yes, he had tricked her and her mother out of a meal and their ostrich horse. He had admitted it. She had forgiven him. Why did Song insist on dwelling on the past when they had already moved on? This girl's behavior bordered on neurosis. "Your mother's roast duck was atrocious, actually." He shot back.

"You ungrateful…" She was clenching the bowl so hard he feared it would burst under the pressure. Song took a breath and started again. "Your uncle would certainly disagree. By the way, where is he?"

This girl really didn't know when to quit. He was about to tell her it was none of her business, but he suspected it wouldn't be enough to deter Song. "We split up," he answered honestly.

"Split up?" She repeated. "You left that poor old man to fend for himself? Didn't you just say that it was dangerous to travel alone?"

If she only knew. Zuko would be lying to say he wasn't worried about Iroh, but he was the Dragon of the West after all. His uncle could take care of himself. He couldn't afford to think any other way. "Yes, it's risky. But my uncle is a master firebender. You are not. That's why I want to know what possessed you to leave your home to search for me on your own. Did you really hate me so much that you were willing to risk your life to find me and the ostrich horse?"

"You are so conceited." Song shook her head slightly.

He had had enough of this. "Answer my question!"

"You just don't get it do you?" The tears were falling freely now. How could he ever understand what she was going through? "Haven't you ever lost something that was important to you? I have lost my father, my home, the village I was born in, and I not ready to lose anything else. You may not realize what this means to me, but I'm willing to do anything to get it back." Her voice cracked with emotion and she paused for a moment before starting again, softer this time. "But what I really want is the one thing I can never have. I can never go back to the way things were before. All I can do is hang on to what I have left."

To lose something you were willing to risk your life for to regain. Was that not what he had been doing for two years of his life? All that time he had been searching for the Avatar, but his goal wasn't really the Avatar himself. It was what the Avatar represented: The return of Zuko's honor, his throne, and what he had hoped for the most – a father that didn't see him as a failure. He was ready to go anywhere and do anything if only to get his old life back. He could understand her pain.

Song had moved away from him and Zuko wasn't sure how to react in such a situation. Crying hadn't exactly been tolerated in his family and the sight of Song's emotional state was foreign to him. Stoicism – to wear a mask of indifference – was the norm. Her weeping form didn't generate sympathy so much as it reminded him of his own discomfort. He knew this situation called for some sort of consoling on his part, but damned if he knew how.

Song quickly got to her feet before he could figure out what to do next. "I'm leaving," her voice was rigid with finality.

"What? Now?" What the hell was this girl thinking? It was still raining outside, too dangerous to travel in a part of the Earth Kingdom that was no stranger to mudslides.

Song ignored his questions and his shocked expression as she moved towards the door. A sharp tug on her arm halted her escape. She turned to see a large hand clamped on her wrist and the hard, golden eyes of its owner.

"Zuko," he inwardly flinched at the unfamiliar, informal use of his name. "Let me go."

"What do you plan to do? Take the ostrich horse and make your way back home? I told you it's not safe." Really, had she not been listening to him all this time?

"I don't care. I'm leaving, so let me go!"

Zuko resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Such foolishness. How had she managed to keep herself from getting killed with this childish behavior?

He drew her resisting form firmly, but gently, down. With his substantial strength it was an easy enough task in spite of her attempt to escape his grasp. He wrapped muscled arms around her, making it impossible for her to break free from his vise-like hold.

"Let go!" She cried again.

"I can't do that," he replied calmly. "After all that effort to keep you from getting killed by those bandits I'd hate to see it wasted because you suddenly got cabin fever. Why do you want to leave?"

"Why do you want me to stay?" Her eyes shot fire at him.

Zuko suddenly realized how easily he could strangle the life out of Song with her so close. How he hated this question game. "I just told you," he said.

Song stopped struggling, knowing it was useless. She was practically cradled in his arms and as his warmth seeped into her she felt her body relax until she eventually sagged against him. Her temper started to die down and Song tried to rethink the situation. Zuko wasn't going to wait long for an answer and she wasn't quite sure just what it was.

"This is wrong," her voice was barely above a whisper.

"What is?" It suddenly occurred to him that maybe Song had taken the kiss a bit more seriously than he first thought. It wasn't his intention to force her to do anything she didn't want to do and yet having her so close – those soft curves pressed securely against his hard body – made him very aware of their isolation and his own temptation.

"I meant," she amended, "that we shouldn't be here."

He gave her a look. "Then where should we be?"

"Isn't there something that you want? Something that you're searching for?"

Zuko wasn't so sure anymore. All his struggling for capturing the Avatar had been in vain. With Azula on his trail she would surely catch the Avatar and return home triumphant, the favored one till the bitter end. All his life she had wanted what was his. His Avatar, his honor, his throne. She had bested him at every turn so how was he supposed to win?

"It's not that simple."

She regarded him thoughtfully, "You mean regaining your title as prince?"

He didn't respond.

"Well, if it's important to you – if you truly want it then take it back. Fight for what is rightfully yours."

Was she serious? Did Song mean for him to fight Azula with the crown going to the winner? If she had ever met his sister he was sure she would never suggest such a thing.

And yet part of him had wanted that all along. Something in him simply wouldn't let him sit idly by and do nothing about his situation. Giving up was not in his nature. It was his determination that stirred his fighting spirit and pushed him to get up again. He couldn't let Azula win again. He wouldn't lie down and die like a dog.

Song saw his eyes glittering like two shards of gold. "Let's leave. Together. Now."

Author's Notes: You know I should just end this right here. I've included all three phrases, it's Soko (although the romance is strangely absent), and it's multi-chaptered. I've met all the requirements.

But – dammit – I just can't leave it like this. One last chapter to go.