Author Note: I wrote this after being inspired by a prompt on the Norse Kink Meme. This is my first story and I am not sure if I will continue it or not. I apologize for any spelling or grammar errors, constructive criticism is appreciated. Anyway, hope you enjoy it.
Disclaimer: I do not own Thor, Avatar: The Last Airbender, or any remotely cool money making franchise.
A metamorphosis, his uncle had said. Explaining the reason why he was feeling so sick…so strange. But as he fell through the blackness his dream had suddenly become, Zuko began to think this was something else. The sensation of falling through this nothingness seemed familiar, like the one lifetime he had thrown himself into the void off the Bifrost…..Bifrost?
Images suddenly assailed him from all sides, overwhelming him with the thoughts and feelings associated with each one.
'Memories…' he thought dimly, confused '…these are my memories…'
They were not of people or places he immediately recognized. He saw halls of shining gold, lands of ice and fire, and the entrance to a dark cave that brought feelings of horror, sadness, pain and most of all, rage.
More memories came to him at a quicker pace. He remembered the loneliness and isolation of never quite fitting in, the smugness of pulling off a successful prank, the fierce joy and freedom from weaving his magic. He felt pain, sadness, and betrayal as his brotherfatherfriendtratior, ripped his children away from him again and again. He saw his nephewbrothercomradeenemy, standing tall and strong wielding the weapon that he had tricked the dwarves to obtain and had dearly paid for over and over. Sometimes, he fought side by side with these men, with the thrill and joy of battle singing through their veins. Other times he fought against them, rage and hate reflected in all their eyes.
Quicker and quicker they came. Memories from a thousand lifetimes, all ending in pain, destruction and violence. All interspersed with moments of joy, betrayal, laughter, power, freedom and sadness. All converging on a single point….a single name. Silver-tongue, lie smith, murderer, victim, monster. Loki. Loki. LOKI.
He awoke with a start, covered in cold sweat. He looked around at the unfamiliar room and objects within it. As he looked around the room, his tongue darted out to lick at his lips, a habit he reacquired every lifetime, eyes widening in surprise when he did not encounter the scars he had become so accustom to. He brought his hand to his lips, becoming more confused at their unfamiliar feel. As he further examined the contours of his face, his hand brushed against an unfamiliar scar. Memories of this life began to slowly return to him. His name was Zuko, he was a Prince, a firebender and his father had exiled and scarred him. He could only feel a slight depression mixed with apathy at this remembrance. It seemed that in any lifetime, even one so radically different from the others, he was never good enough to keep a father's love, his most recent life as Odin's son still feeling painfully close.
"It is good to see you awake nephew. I have brought you some porridge and healing tea to help you regain your strength."
Loki-Zuko he reminded himself, I am Zuko in this life- looked up as his uncle entered with a tray, eyes widening in realization. His Uncle who always stood by him, through his temper tantrums, harsh words and single-minded obsession. His Uncle who always tried to point him in the right direction, who patiently acted as his moral compass, whose eyes never looked at him with hate or disgust. Annoyance yes, frustration, yes, anger and exasperation, yes and yes. But beneath it there was always love. Not even Frigga, dear, loving, forgiving Frigga, had managed that when he was the one ultimately responsible for the deaths of her husband and sons time and time again.
"Uncle" the word came out as a strangled cry as Zuko threw his arms around Iroh, nearly upending the containers on the tray his UncleFather had just set down by the bed. He felt strong warm arms encircle him as he buried his face in his Unc- Father's chest, weeping softly at the overwhelming realization that things could be different this time. Here, where he wasn't a lie smith, monster, the bringer of Ragnarok. Here, where he had something he had never had before; someone who had seen him at his worst and still loved him.
There were still many complications to consider. What to do about the Avatar, Ozai, the war and the Fire Nation. What to do about his little sister-another thing he had never had before- his sister whose eyes, behind that mask of cool ruthlessness, held the mix of desperation, loneliness, isolation and a small spark of madness. A familiar mix that he, himself had seen so often in his own reflection. He would not allow his sister to be consumed by it as he had, time and time again. But for now, he let his thoughts and half formed plans drift away. Simply letting himself feel the warmth and security of being held by a Father who loved him.