Title: Illusions
Pairing: Eventual Sokka/Zuko
Rating: M
Warning: Violence, Language, sex, non-con, death, ect. Not all that graphic, thought, which is probably a good thing.
A/N: Chapter two. Time for some Sokka action! Oh, and Zuko kills people in this chapter…EHEM. That's one of the reason its dark, I killed people. Or well, Zuko killed people! Ect. Fortunately none of them are the main characters, so it's no worry.
I hope you like disturbing mental images, because you are about to get them!
Also, my next update may not be as quick, but I'll try. (I keep on rushing things. I really want Sokka to save the day already!)
---
Chapter two: Resentment
---
Sokka lay on his bed with his arms outstretched in various directions and a trail of drool slipping down his cheek and onto his pillow. He grumbled, turned, and slipped his arm off the edge of the bed, almost bringing himself along with it. A little bald boy poked his head through Sokka's window, smile wide on his face, and quietly jumped into the room.
"Hey Sokka." He shook the tribesman by the shoulder. "Katara's busy, so can you come and watch me train?"
Unfortunately, the minimal contact made Sokka topple over and onto the floor, the sheet coming along with him. He groaned, and after swatting Aang's hand away, dived under his covers and attempted to ignore the younger males request. "Go away. Sleeping."
Aang laughed and nudged his friend. "But you're on the ground! You can't sleep there," he reasoned. He tugged the teenager by the arm in an attempt to get him moving, but failed, as Sokka simply shrugged him off and buried himself further in the sheets.
Aang pouted. "Pleeease?"
Silence.
"Sokka?"
Silence.
"SOKKA!"
A grumble.
"SOOKKAA—"
"OKAY! Fine! I'll watch you train." Sokka reluctantly pulled himself away from the covers and glared at his cheerful friend, hand coming to run through messy brown locks of mattered hair. "But it better be good."
Aang nodded his head frantically. "Alright, well, come on, Zuko's sleeping outside," he said as he grabbed the tribesman by the wrist and dragged him towards the door, expression happy, if not gleeful. Maybe he really was excited about learning more firebending. That wouldn't have come as a surprise to Sokka. After returning from their little adventure in the sun warrior temples, Aang and Zuko seemed more relaxed and happy about training with each other.
Upon arriving outside, Aang released Sokka's wrist. "Usually he's up earlier, maybe he's tired today," Aang mused, wandering over to the rock Zuko had respectfully chosen as his temporary bed.
It was empty.
The airbender frowned and bent down, staring intently at the rock and sheets. "Weird, I thought he'd still be here, maybe he went for a walk…" The avatar trailed off and began wandering the length of the temples front, calling out Zuko's nickname: Sifuhotman. When no reply came, he made his way back over to Sokka and smiled weakly.
"Have you seen him?" He asked, earning a quick shake from the tribesman.
"Noo, you were taking me to see him, remember?"
The Avatar sighed and nodded his head. "Come on, let's go and find him, he was going to teach me something really important today."
Walking two steps behind Aang, Sokka followed, his smile forced.
In the temple bedrooms? No.
By the fountains? No.
Down any of the various hallways? No.
With Katara or Toph? Certainly not.
It was only after an hour of searching that they came to a shocking conclusion:
Zuko was gone.
---
Dawn had arrived long before the carriage stopped; a sleeping Zuko was slumped up against the wall inside, unaware of their arrival. The admiral hopped off his carriage seat, stepped up to the door and pulled it open, movements receding somewhat when he spotted Zuko sleeping peacefully up against the carriage side. He extended a hand to grab Zuko's back, and--
A hand slapped over his wrist, bleary gold eyes staring down at him defiantly. "Good morning Prince Zuko," He greeted calmly, watching as the teen blinked and tightened his grip, possibly trying to decide whether or not an escape attempt was possible. "I trust your enjoyed your trip?"
The prince merely glared and kept silent, his hand gradually pulling away. There were at least ten soldiers outside. Even with his strength he wouldn't be able to take them all out.
"Been a good boy now, are we?" The admiral mocked, pulling Zuko from the carriage seat and onto the ground. He stumbled a few times, feet catching on some rocks, but managed to keep his posture straight and proud.
"Fuck you," The prince replied angrily, leering furiously.
The admiral chuckled. "Stubborn as ever, I see."
He tugged the prince forward, and without warning, began to drag him towards a nearby building.
Zuko blinked against the suns bright morning rays and looked over, eyes widening as he spotted a large, towering building sitting along side multiple smaller, uninhabited shops and houses. He struggled weakly against his bindings as he was dragged along, feeling somewhat panicked about the change to his situation.
He hadn't imagined he'd be taken to a…a prison. He had thought the threat was a joke. Usually they brought people such as himself to the closest palace, and then, without mercy, a death sentence would be given. Then why he was been taken to a prison? It would be harder to escape from a prison.
One look and the Admiral translated Zuko's despairing expression into words. "I've decided death isn't good enough for the fire nation's traitorous prince, so, you'll be staying here for quite awhile."
Zuko felt his confident stride falter—his situation was getting worse and worse by the second.
He tugged at his chains, fingers tightening as the Admiral, along with his many guards, forced him along. If there was any time to try and escape, now was it.
Without another thought as to what the concequences of his actions may be or what might go wrong, he spun himself around and knocked the Admiral back (a difficult task considering the Admiral's stature), his own feet stumbling over each other due to the thick, lanky chain. The soldired on either side of him darted at Zuko, but he was able to avoid impact by jumping out of the way before either attack hit him. He stomped vigorously on one foot, attempting to loosen or burn the chain, and shot a blast of fire from his lips to protect him while he did.
He watched as the fire grew and engulfed one of the men. A scream broke through breathy pants and the smell of charred flesh wavered under his nose. Bile built up in his throat and he forced it back down, breathing heavily. An ache began to develop. He didn't want to identify what it was while so desperately trying to free himself. It was bad enough he had fear settling down in his mind, making his movements too fast, too shaky with desperation.
Now wasn't the time to feel guilty, he reasoned with himself. He had to escape, even if it meant he had to kill a few people in the process.
Groaning, he watched as the body fell to the floor, void of skin and muscles or anything that gave it distinctive features.
It was disgusting, to say the very least. He tried not to let his gaze linger on it longer than necessary.
Dodging to the side, Zuko began to run as fast as the chains around his feet would allow him, adrenalin and fear pushing him forward. Faster, faster, FASTER! He stumbled and jerked himself upright when boulders and pieces of earth flew around his ears, just barely missing his face. With another spin he sent a ball of fire at the group of soldiers, but only managed to capture the smallest one in its flame. Once again, a scream ripped through the otherwise dulled air, and once again, he watched as a charred body fell before his feet, bringing a similar sickness back to his stomach and throat.
"Hng…damn…" He held his breath and began to run once more.
Before he could manage two steps in his desired direction his stomach lurched painfully as one of the guards jumped at him, and he noticed as a rock flew in to his stomach, that tears we're in the soldiers eyes. A monster called guilt churned in his chest, momentarily pushing away his main objective to create a new one: speak.
He was unable to. Saliva flooded in to his mouth and he forced himself to swallow it back—gods he felt sick. He wasn't sure whether it was from the smell of rotting flesh or the fact a sharp rock was digging rather violently in his stomach.
Either one was bad.
Damn.
Damn. Damn. Damn. He cursed silently to himself as the ground connected with his back, digging into his cramped and sore muscles and leaving him temporarily unable to move. A mere second passed and he jerked, desperately scrabbling away from the soldiers, palms bleeding with the raw effort he used. Only when something hard connected with his back did he stop, a gasp escaping his lips. The heel of what he identified as a foot dug in and he attempted to spin and face the attacker, but his attempts caused his lungs and chest to burn painfully so he stopped.
"You killed two of my soldiers!"
With a deep sense of dread, he felt the Admiral lean over and grab him by the hair, jerking him back and fourth like a rag doll. The man took advantage of Zuko's momentary surprise and wrapped a thick, sweet smelling cloth around his mouth, trying it there tightly with one hand.
The prince bit in to the cloth, trying hard to force it out of his mouth with his tongue. If he tried to use firebending now there was a possibility he would set the cloth alight and burn himself. He couldn't risk it, no matter how desperately he wished to speak. But then, what would he say? I'm sorry? Release me? His voice would do nothing more than enrage the man. Zuko groaned and swore (rather loudly) as the Admiral forced him to his feet, his hands roughly pushing him towards the prison.
"You'll regret that, you brat!" The admiral hissed angrily, beside Zuko's ear. But Zuko ignored it and focused on calming his frantic breaths. He couldn't get the disgusting smell of death out of his mind—charred, burning, bloody flesh, it was sticking to him like a plague, and by god, he felt sick to the stomach. He had never killed someone before. Not in such a vile, despicable way.
The hand on his back tightened as they were led thought a door and into a hallway aligned with cages. He could see people inside the cages, some moving, and some, which he presumed had been there the longest, where lying motionless on their bed, staring up at the ceiling. Zuko felt his stomach do a flip. This definitely wasn't good for him.
"Go."
Zuko frowned and glanced at the guards, who in turn, began to leave. One made a desperate dart towards the door, while the others, possibly older and more experienced in their field of work, left in a respectful manner. The prince furrowed his eyebrows and eyed the Admiral behind him, watching as he dug a hand into the vulnerable skin of his neck, possibly tempted to strangle him. Zuko wasn't surprised, he HAD just brutally murdered two of his soldiers, so he couldn't exactly call it a meaningless hate.
"Now you, dear prince, are going to learn what happens when you fuck around with my soldiers."
To say the next action was 'painful' was an understatement. He felt something sharp, and he presumed it was a rock, dig in his upper back as the Admiral roughly forced him into a nearby room, watching and laughing as he stumbled and fell first to his knees, and then his chin, scraping the skin. Droplets of blood pooled under his chin and he hissed, pressing his forehead into the stone in an attempt to numb the pain. He was sure he'd be pretty bruised up by morning, if not in a few minutes.
His thoughts were abruptly cut off when a hand grabbed him and slammed him into the wall. A muffled cry was immediately filtered by the gag. He was sure his lip was bleeding, soaking into the sweet smelling fabtic, but he was too distracted by the task of focusing on what the man was doing behind him to investigate with his tongue.
"What's that prince? Don't like the rough treatment?"
He heard the man shuffling behind him, but kept quiet, his anger silently boiling. A beating wouldn't be that bad. He would simply be sore for a little while. Later, he'd just have to figure out a way to escape.
"You don't respond to my liking with pain, dear prince, so perhaps we should try something different…how about humiliation?"
He felt a hand run over his thigh and immediately realized what was happening, an involuntary shudder running down his body. A silent 'stop' was desperate to escape his mouth, but as the cloth was biting into the sides of his lips, stopping all attempts to speak, he simply let out a ragged breath and narrowed his eyes instead, trying with difficult to ignore the admiral as he striped him off his clothing.
Air started to flutter against his back, thighs and neck—No! No no no. He couldn't just stand there and take it! He had to escape. He couldn't—he couldn't let this happen to him.
Zuko quickly shot out his shackled foot and tried to catch the Admiral on the knee. In response, the admiral simply grunted and lifted his leg, deflecting the attack. "Is that all you've got?" He asked, mockingly. Zuko bit into his gag and violently shoved back against him, pushing him back at least a foot before he felt the admiral regain balance and retaliate by pressing forwards. There was no change, he was still trapped.
He heard a quiet chuckle. "Try all you want, prince, but you won't be getting out of this anytime soon."
A hand grabbed the back of Zuko's head and slammed it in to the wall, causing little white lights to dance in front of his eyes, temporarily blinding him. How did the man expect him to attack back when he was shackled and gagged? He ground his teeth against the gag furiously.
He heard the clinking of a belt and jerked, eyes set on the wall in front of him. Dread set over his mind, and the worst part was, he couldn't move. He was stuck there, against the wall, hands tied and feet stuck together like glue, incapable of running back to Iroh, his mother, or any other important figure in his life like he used to. Something pushed in; he let out a gasp and tensed, fingers digging into the manacles binding his hands.
Pain, pain, pain, pain, pain. Definitely pain.
He forced his eyes shut and bit in to his cheek, focusing on the metallic blood under his tongue and the wall scraping against his shoulders.
---
It seemed like hours had passed before Zuko was able to look up from the floor, his gaze dull and expression empty, hands resting on his lap in a protective manner. The man had long since left, leaving him dirtied and injured up against the wall. But, he was glad to be alone. When he was alone it hurt less. It felt less humiliating. He could simply forget the act had ever occurred or pretend it had happened to someone else.
Sighing, he ducked his face in to his arm, taking refuge in the darkness it provided.
What was he going to do now? Wasn't he supposed to be looking for an escape? Zuko mumbled something into the crook of his arm, a word of advice to himself. 'Never give up without a fight'. His knife had said that. He had to focus. Listen to those words. Take the necessary steps to free himself from his cement cage.
First: what was he doing to do now? He couldn't just sit there feeling sorry for himself. That was exactly what the Admiral wanted, he wanted him to break. Second: How was he going to do it? That he hadn't yet figured out how to answer.
Hissing between tightly clenched teeth, he forced himself up on to his feet, stomach and abdomen churning with newly acquired pain. He took a few shaky steps from the wall, legs trembling, and wandered over to the door, pushing at it in an attempt to free its lock. No such luck.
He tried again, this time harder, his fingers sinking into the wood. The door didn't budge. "Damnit…" He scowled angrily and punched a bound fist at the door, before dropping and letting his forehead pres up against is surprisingly warm surface. Why couldn't he just get lucky for ONCE in his life? Just once!?
Never give up without a fight.
Never give up without a fight.
Never give up without a fight.
Zuko rolled his eyes. Well, that's was inspirational. He tapped on the door once more, testing its strength against his manacles. It didn't seem like he'd be able to escape though it anytime soon. His hands were tied in such a position that he wasn't able to bend his palm in the right direction. Cursing to himself, he began to tug and pull at the metal restraints curling around his wrists, attempting to slip them off with little avail.
Obviously the Admiral was taking few chances. The fucking bastard. When he got out he'd kick his ass, and then burn it along with the rest of his repulsive body. In fact, just to be thorough, he'd burn his ashes as well.
Zuko carefully eased himself away from the door and placed his back against the wall, sliding down it until he was able to curl his knees up against his chest.
