A/N: Wow. I really didn't expect so many people to be interested in this story. A huge thank you to everyone who reviewed! You guys are amazing!
And I got a lot of questions about what happened before Zuko ended up in the Boiling Rock. As far as those go, you'll just have to wait and see. ^.^ (I think I'll get there in a few chapters... We'll see how it goes. I'm still not entirely sure where this is going, unfortunately... *sweatdrops*)
Now, on with the story!
Sokka was lost, not that he would ever admit it to anyone else. He'd gotten a few soldiers drunk to the point where they sung like birds and got them to tell him more exactly where the prison was, not that "About thirty miles north of the swamp" was a lot of help, but how much could you expect from a drunk? After about a week of questioning, he finally got something solid enough to tell him where the prison was. There was some sort of city nearby that should be relatively easy to find, apparently.
…Or maybe not, considering that he had no idea where he was.
He sighed, spurring his stolen komodo-rhino into movement. "You could move faster, you know," he told it irritably. It grunted at him in response and continued at the same unhurried pace.
The area he was in was ridiculously humid- the air seemed positively saturated with water. His body, unused to the combination of heat and humidity, tried to compensate, which meant that he was pouring sweat. Which, of course, failed to evaporate quickly enough because the air was already so full of moisture.
"I just had to travel, didn't I?" he lamented. His liberated komodo-rhino merely grunted at him again. "I wonder why it's so humid?"
He stopped, an idea forming in his brain. The Boiling Rock was so named because it was in the middle of a boiling lake, right? Well, if the water was boiling, it would turn into a gas and enter the air…
His forehead met his palm with a loud slap. It was so obvious. He was close.
Sure enough, after a few more hours of riding, he caught sight of a massive rise of land with steam pouring from the top.
He quickly drew closer, and as nightfall approached he prepared himself to infiltrate the building. He had his boomerang, his sword, some water and food, some armor, and a small collapsible canoe, along with a few other odds and ends such as rope and a hunting knife.
As he climbed toward the lake, he groaned as he realized that his komodo-rhino wasn't going to make it to the top. It started walking up the slope, but once it hit the loose rocks higher up it would take one step forward and slide back two.
"Move, you stupid thing!" he shouted. The komodo-rhino flicked an ear, letting out a groan. Sokka's eyebrow twitched as he noticed the flies that were swarming around the animal's head. As if in response to his frustration, the animal laid down, refusing to walk any further.
"Fine, you stupid animal!" he cried, throwing his hands into the air and snatching his things from the animal's back. He stormed off, shoving it with his foot back down the mountain- not that it moved far, given how much more it weighed than Sokka. It glared at him reproachfully and left.
Sokka grunted as he shouldered his pack- his collapsible canoe was unbelievably heavy. "You'd better be there, Dad, or else you'll be in trouble when I find you. I'm not carrying all this shit up this gigantic hill for nothing, or you'll be sorry," he muttered.
"Journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step and all that rot," he said, stepping forward…
…And wrinkling his nose as he heard a wet, squishing sound underneath his foot.
"Eeeeeeww!" he squealed, jumping way and scraping his shoe up against a nearby rock. "You disgusting animal! I hope you trip on the way down!"
"Ugh," he said in disgust, shouldering his pack from where it had flown when he jumped.
He had a bad feeling about this trip. That first step just seemed like a bad omen…
Sure enough, as he approached the fortress he noticed an abnormally high number of guards on the walls. He cursed softly, trying not to attract their attention. Unfortunately, as he neared the top of the wall, he kicked a loose rock, wincing as it fell from the staircase and struck the stone below.
One of the guards turned to face him. "Oh, hell!" he exclaimed, vaulting onto the top of the wall, unsheathing his sword as he landed. The guard shot a stream of fire at him, but he ducked to one side. Taking advantage of his opponent being off balance from striking, he lunged forward before the other could get back into a position to defend. His sword bit into the guard's neck, sliding just under the helmet and releasing a spray of blood.
The guard fell, the armor making a loud crash as it hit the stone wall.
"Ling, you alright?" came a voice.
"Better be. I bet the pussy just tripped," muttered another.
"I'm fine!" Sokka yelled back, trying to sound like he was embarrassed. His voice came out with only a slight edge of hysteria, so he considered it fairly successful.
One of the other guards snorted, but it seemed like they were all happy to let the matter rest.
Sokka looked down at the corpse with a mix of pity and distaste, staring at it for a moment before moving on, wiping his sword and resheathing it as he did.
He crept through the halls like a ghost, his footsteps making only the softest tap against the hard floor- the only sign of his passing. He all but ran across the open yard, deserted though it was. The moon blazed down on him and he prayed that Yue watched him and gave him her blessing.
To his frustration, though, he found nothing resembling a section of war prisoners. The only people he found were Fire Nation citizens, all who were awake as docile as sheep, having long ago been broken.
Eventually, he came upon a section where the cells were closed off with solid iron doors, doors without bars or windows, solid and sturdy. These cells, it seemed, were meant to hold people in indefinitely. Even the strongest would be unable to break out of these.
He slid back door after door, the deadbolts holding them shut heavy enough to make him struggle. After opening around twenty of them to find nothing inside, he began to simply kick the doors and see if there was any response. He was at this for what seemed like hours before he got one. He kicked on this door, not expecting anything to happen – as nothing had happened for the past hundred or so – but instead he heard a slight shuffling inside. Throwing caution to the wind, he pushed open the door-
-only to push it shut immediately as a punch flew by his head.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" he yelled. "I guess I won't let you out!" He had begun walking way when he heard a voice.
"No… wait. I thought you were one of the guards," the prisoner said weakly.
Nervously, Sokka pulled the door open again. The sight that met his eyes was shocking, to say the least.
The prisoner was a youth, probably about his own age, but malnourishment had made him slight for his age, and Sokka swore that he could see the outlines of bones through the boy's minimal flesh. The boy had also been abused; bruises littered his skin. A horrendous burn scar stood out against his pale face, highlighting feral yellow eyes. Unkempt black hair ringed his face.
"You're staring," the prisoner said bluntly.
Sokka had the grace to look ashamed, but couldn't quite tear his eyes way. To distract from this, he spoke. "I'm Sokka. And you?"
"Zuko."
It seemed to him that Zuko was expecting a reaction to his name. He wondered what he guy had done to make himself so infamous that he expected people to know who he was.
"Do you know where the war prisoners are kept?" he asked.
Zuko snorted. "Well, aren't you in the wrong place. This area is solitary confinement. I'm the only one for a ways around." His voice was hoarse, probably from lack of use but possibly from the finger-shaped bruises that ringed his neck.
"Can you show me?" Sokka asked eagerly.
"As long as you take me with you when you leave this shithole."
Well, his canoe would fit two people comfortably, three or four in a squeeze, so it should be all right… "Sure," he said aloud.
Zuko limped out of the cell, Sokka following. They were, he noticed to his chagrin, retracing the path he had taken to get there. After a while, they deviated from that path, following twisting passages until Sokka was completely lost.
Eventually, the silence grew too oppressive and one of them had to start a conversation. Having already been exposed to the prisoner's bluntness, Sokka figured that one had to be him.
"So… What're you in for?" he asked. Hey, so it was a cliché, but you could always rely on the classics.
"I tried to kill the Fire Lord."
"Yeah, take a number." That received a glare. "Hey, I'm just saying…"
An eye roll this time.
"You're not very talkative, are you?" prodded Sokka.
"Not generally, no. Who're you looking for?"
"My father."
"Why?"
"He was captured leading a raid against the fire nation," Sokka said, a hint of pride creeping into his voice.
"No, why?"
Sokka stopped dead, unable to believe what he had heard. "How can you ask that? He's my father! That should be reason enough! What do you think, that I need more of an incentive?"
Zuko continued to look at him strangely.
"Are you saying that you wouldn't go get your father if he was in here?"
"Of course I wouldn't get him. He deserves to rot in here."
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Sokka exploded. His fingers twitched, wanting to form into a fist. He controlled his anger, though, and willed his hand still through some miracle. "Look, I don't know what's wrong with your attitude, but once we get off this island we split ways." Angry jerk-face.
Zuko pretended not to care, instead continuing to walk on silently.
Shouts rang out, and there was a sudden pounding of feet.
"Damn. Sounds like they found that guard I killed. Looks like we'll have to fight our way out," Sokka groaned.
"I'm guessing you're from the water tribe, with all that blue," Zuko mused.
"Of course I am! Born, raised, and can't wait to return. What does that have to do with anything?"
"It means your father should be in this section of the prison."
The water tribe boy perked up immediately. "Really?" He craned his neck around, trying to look into the cells, as these had small, barred windows set in the doors.
Cell after cell came up empty. He noticed Zuko standing there awkwardly and snapped, "Well, look on that side!"
Clang!
"Found him," Zuko said flatly, gesturing to a cell with dented bars.
"What happened?"
"Tried to punch me through the bars."
"Well, you do look fire nation."
Zuko only dignified this by snorting. Sokka, opening the cell, was far too busy to notice. He was straining to open the door, his arms too tired to move such a tremendous weight. First he tried simply pushing forward, then turned and pushed with his back, and still nothing happened. Zuko watched him struggle for a moment, privately amused. After noticing that the other boy was making absolutely no progress, he finally took pity on him.
"Use your legs," he advised.
"What?" Sokka asked. "You do it, if you're so clever." As soon as that popped out of his mouth, he looked the former prisoner over and realized just how little muscle – or fat, or flesh of any sort – the other boy had. The other would never be able to move such an enormous weight. So he shut his mouth and pushed, using his legs. The door creaked, unwilling to relinquish its prisoner, and then gave way.
A/N: Sorry for the cliffie, but I couldn't find another good place to end this chapter...
Please review, oh wonderful people... It encourages me to write more!
