Author's Note: Don't get too excited - the rest of the updates will not be nearly as timely. Probably every-other week or something like that. However, the prologue was short and was more about setting up the story, so I thought I'd go ahead and put a bit more out there to pique interest. I do not plan to post warnings for each individual chapter, as I feel that ruins the surprise of the plot. If you need a refresher on the warnings, see the Prologue. I hope you enjoy Chapter One, and please leave a review if you read! Constructive ones are my favorite, but all are appreciated. Except flames. Which are mocked. Enjoy!
Chapter One
Chains pulled on his limbs painfully and the metal cuffs pressed into his burned wrists. He sat on his knees, chained spread-arm to the metal cell wall. His head hung low, a trickle of red crept down his cheek and dripped slowly from his chin. Teeth clenched tightly, forcing cries of agony to hang in his throat. The medallion felt heavy around his neck, the metal-plated stone cold against his skin. Pants escaped his lips in the brief break. Before him, Azula shrieked with laughter.
"Don't look so sad, ZuZu," she said. "After all, it isn't like you're completely alone. All your little friends are here, too." He turned his face away from her so that he couldn't see any of her. "Well, except the little earthbending girl."
"Toph escaped?" Zuko said with disbelief as he turned towards Azula. Her face was framed with a mocking expression as she laughed.
"Don't be silly, Zuko," she replied. "Her father offered a reward for her, saying that the Avatar kidnapped her and forced her to help him. And how could I refuse to release a poor, innocent child when offered a nice pile of gold pieces in exchange?" Zuko turned away again, head slouching loosely. "But don't worry. You'll see the rest of them again very soon," she added as she walked past the rusty metal door. The lock clicked into place automatically as it slammed closed. Her footsteps echoed through the metal corridor until finally fading in with those of the other patrolling guards.
"You mustn't let Azula get to you, Zuko," Iroh said from the cell across from him. "She is only trying to break you – you cannot let her win this battle."
"…I know, Uncle," Zuko said quietly, his eyes unable to meet his uncle's. It was, after all, his fault that his uncle was here in the first place. It was he who yelled at Iroh, alerting the guards of the intruder. Had he gracefully accepted rescue rather than being so selfless as to tell him to save himself…
"Don't blame yourself, Zuko," Iroh said with his almost omniscient knowledge. "I would rather be in here dying than not have at least tried to save you." Zuko was silent. He knew his uncle was right – he shouldn't blame himself. He should blame Azula, his father, the nation – anyone but himself.
Suddenly the corridor filled with the familiar sound of cart wheels scraping against the uneven metal flooring. The door next to his screeched open. The sound of chains against metal followed and he heard the wooden bowl hit the floor in front of the prisoner. The door screeched closed. The cart appeared in front of his cell and the guard unlocked the door. Wordlessly, he unchained one of Zuko's bloodied wrists and placed a bowl before him before slamming the barred door closed once more. The cart moved on. Zuko stared at the bowl of mush before him.
"You should eat, Zuko," Iroh said softly after a moment.
"It isn't fair…" he replied, still unable to look at his uncle. "I don't want this! I would rather –"
"No, Zuko!" Iroh shouted, his voice raspy but strong. "I know you would rather give it to me – you say it every day. But you know they will not allow it. You must eat it, to keep your strength. That way, one day, you can find your way out of here." Zuko's eyes met his uncle's, weary from starvation but strong with spirit. Zuko hated himself as he gazed upon his uncle's frail frame. Once covered with fleshy muscle, Iroh's skin hung loosely against his bones. Skin clung to his ribs, outlining each bone sickly. He felt a tear escape the corner of his eye. "I'll be fine, Zuko. It is you I am worried for."
In silence, Zuko began eating the bowlful despite his lost appetite. The food was nauseating – a mashed mixture Zuko didn't dare attempt to identify. But it was food. Even this passed as nourishment, and he would give anything to suffer his uncle's fate for him. The moments passed, and his door suddenly opened. Azula stood before him once again, a smirk upon her lips and a flame burning in her eye; she was up to something.
"Well, hello again Zuko," she said coldly. "I thought you might like to see one of your friends today. Perhaps the water tribe boy?" Zuko narrowed his eyes, attempting to read her plan. "Take him," she said aside to the guards. Two guards entered the cell, unchaining his remaining hand and unshackling his feet. They lifted him from the metal floor and drug him out the cell door.
"Where are we going?" he asked coolly.
"I've already told you," she replied with annoyance. "To see one of your friends." She led the way and Zuko reluctantly followed with a guard on either side. His hands were cuffed tightly and shackles clattered against the floor with each step down the corridor. They turned the corner, then another, up a set of stairs to another corridor, leading to another set of stairs.
Finally they reached a solid metal door, dented and scorched against the solid metal wall surrounding it. Above the rusted handle were four locks, each different in shape and slightly newer than the next. One by one, Azula inserted the keys, each opened from a different one. Finally the door swung open revealing the interior. It was dark, only illuminated by the faint light of the corridor. Torchlight gleamed off of something reflective – a mirror or window perhaps. Azula stood aside as a guard pushed Zuko into the room. He hit the cold steel floor, a loose nail scraping his cheek.
"Don't bother trying to break the glass," Azula forewarned. "It's ten times stronger than this impenetrable steel door." A chain latched to the shackles on his feet, locking him to the nearby chair that bolted to the floor on either side. One of the guards unlocked his hand restraints as he sat upright.
"What are you up to, Azula?" Zuko snapped.
"I won't repeat myself!" Azula spat back. "And besides, you'll see soon enough." She turned and the guards followed her out. "Enjoy the show," she added as the door slammed closed. He heard the locks latch one by one and the faint sound of footsteps as the three walked away. Silence fell over the stagnant room and Zuko closed his eyes against the pitch black. Suddenly, he released all the energy he could in one motion, an attempt to break the lock on his shackles. He tugged and yanked at the metal links, but to no avail; the welded metal refused to budge.
Unexpectedly, the room filled with light and Zuko closed his eyes against the beam. He squinted and saw that it came from the other side of the clear pane before him. He stood, approaching the glass wall. The room was high-ceilinged and dome-like. And just like the rest of the prison, it was fully crafted of welded metal. It sat slightly below him, the ground off-level with his own. Towards the center, a good twenty-five or so feet from his isolated room, a prisoner was chained to two poles positioned just enough apart that the limbs were forced to pull at an uncomfortable angle. The prisoner stood silently, his head hanging low over his chest.
The sound of high heeled boots echoed to the high ceiling as Azula entered and approached the chained prisoner. She turned back to face the room where Zuko stood and smirked. Quickly she turned to face her captive.
"Bow before the Fire Lord, you insolent peasant!" she yelled, kicking the knees from below him. His knees stopped just short of hitting the metal floor and he cried out in pain as his arms jerked from the sudden pressure of falling.
Horrorstruck, Zuko realized what this was. 'Sokka,' he thought. Now he understood: Azula planned to torture them right in front of him. "No…"he whispered. "No! I won't let you do this, Azula!" he screamed, voice cracking, as he raced towards the glass pane. He rammed it, the thud only echoing through the other room. He heard Azula laugh from the arena as she spoke to Sokka.
"Oh, I forgot to tell you," she said coolly, leaning down to meet his face. "My useless brother asked if he could see his friends." She shrieked with laughter as Sokka's head rose; eyes squinted to make out his figure behind the dark pane, shadowed in the dark room. Leaning close again, Azula continued. "I told him you were to be tortured until dead, but he insisted on joining me. I wouldn't dare trust him to help, but I told him he could watch."
Zuko rammed against the glass again, it still refusing to give even a faint sign of scratching. He watched in horror as a long whip extended from Azula's hand. It glowed brightly, ablaze on its end. With no hesitation, the whip lashed outward and licked his bare back. Sokka cried out in pain as it struck him again, twice more. With each slash, Zuko rammed the solid glass harder. Blood spattered the floor around him as the flaming whip did its damage, tearing clean lines in tanned flesh. After his attempts, Zuko slid down the pane, exhausted and bruised.
"Zuko!" Sokka finally cried. "You have t-to…to help me!" Laughing, Azula let the whip land against his chest this time and he screamed again. "Please… Zuko, please!"
"You would be better not to waste those precious breaths on him," Azula said, drawing the whip back to her arms. "After all, it isn't like he's going to actually come save you." She placed a hand on one of the chains that drew his arms up painfully. "And pleading will get you no mercy from me." Blue flame danced around the link, and suddenly it began to glow white hot. It flowed down the chain, inching closer to his bare wrist. Sokka closed his eyes, bracing himself for the scalding heat he knew was coming. A moment passed, and blue eyes opened hesitantly. Suddenly a blue blaze fell across his neck and down his chest. He cried out once more, the smoke revealing blistered black flesh from the burn.
"Well, I'm growing bored of you," Azula finally said after she'd done her damage. "But don't worry; we'll see each other again." The two guards unchained him and he fell weakly to the metal. They drug him from the room and their footsteps disappeared moments later. Azula turned once more towards the room that held Zuko captive. She walked toward him and disappeared beneath it. Moments later, keys jingled outside and the locks began to turn. A loud screech filled the room and echoed in the corridor as it swung open. "Well, did you enjoy the show, ZuZu?"
"…You're sick," Zuko replied.
"Sick is a little harsh, don't you think?" Azula said with fake hurt. "I prefer the word…creative. Besides, I thought you might like seeing your friends again."
"Stop this, Azula," Zuko said, pressing his face against the pane. He stared at the spattered blood in the room for a moment, then closed his eyes. He turned and faced his sister. "Whatever it is you want from me, I swear you can have it – whatever you want me to do, I'll do. Just please…Azula…"
"That's flattering, Zuko, it really is," Azula said mockingly. "But all I want from you is your misery. I want you to suffer the ultimate price for your betrayal of your kingdom. And this," she gestured to the torture room, "this is how I can accomplish that goal. Pleading won't work this time, Zuko." Their eyes met, a stinging ray blasting between them, the tension floating uncomfortably. Azula turned from him. "Enjoy the rest of the show," she said coldly, slamming the door and locking it behind her. To his horror, she reappeared in the other room. Zuko noticed that another prisoner had been placed in the same binds where Sokka had been before. He closed his eyes.
*~*~*0*~*~*
Silently, the guards replaced Zuko's shackles in his cell as he slumped weakly against the cold metal behind him. He trembled slightly, the events playing over and over again in his mind, the sounds echoing in the corridor. The guards exited the cell, and Azula slammed the barred door.
"You're so weak," she said with a hint of disappointment as she turned from his cell.
"You're wrong," a raspy voice spoke suddenly. Iroh moved into the torchlight from the corridor as he continued. Slightly amused, Azula turned to him with a raised-eyebrow. "Zuko is stronger than you give him credit for. He is stronger than you could ever hope to be."
"You call that strength?" Azula laughed and gestured at Zuko, still trembling from shock. "Or am I supposed to starve myself and cry at every paper cut."
"There is a difference between strength and power, Azula," Iroh replied. "You might have power over him, but you could never hope to embrace the strength Zuko has found!" A blast of blue blazed through the metal bars, engulfing Iroh for a brief moment before they extinguished. His skin blistered and blacked with the burns and Azula walked away before another word was spoken.
Topaz eyes fell on Zuko, limp and wide-eyed in his binds. Iroh sighed, and sat on the floor. "Zuko," he said softly. "It's alright, Zuko."
"No, Uncle…" Zuko said, his voice trembling slightly.
"What happened, Zuko?" Iroh asked, hoping the teen could find comfort in release.
"I…I just sat there…I just watched," Zuko whispered. "I didn't do a damn thing to help them, Uncle!" he shouted suddenly, ramming his fist into the solid steel floor. The sound echoed through the hallway. He felt a tear slip from his eye as he hung his head. "I…couldn't save them…"
"Zuko?" Iroh said after a moment.
"Azula's right, Uncle – I am weak," he said, the tears falling more rapidly. "All that separated me from my friends – from the people that saved me – was a piece of glass! And I couldn't even scratch it! I was too weak to help them…and I…I just sat there…I just watched…and…" He choked back a hiccup, the shame flowing down his cheeks. It was his fault – all of it. Uncle Iroh was dying, and his friends were being brutally tortured – because of him.
