9th Day, Peach Moon, Year of the Tiger
Prince Zuko

He should not have surrendered. Everything Zuko had been taught in his firebending classes, in his history classes, and from his parents and uncle told him that he should not have given up so easily, without even attempting to fight.

The first guard Zuko had thought he could take, especially when the man had been staring at Azula like he was four years old and Azula was a baby turtle-duck he had dropped onto hot coals, but then five more showed up and Zuko was absolutely certain that if he tried to fight them they would kill him.

So he had allowed himself to be handcuffed and shunted to the side while more guards and what must have been a medic fussed over Azula. Zuko studied the guards while he waited, trying to get a feel for what kind of situation he and Azula had been transported into.

They were wearing Earth Kingdom colors, but not anything that could be considered a uniform. Several of them had bleached hair, like the paintings of Fire Lords six or seven hundred years old, when it had been customary for firebenders to soak their hair in a mixture of vinegar and ash until it was the color of the sun, but none of them had the gold or amber eyes common to firebenders. Most of them had blue eyes– a trait exclusive to the Water Tribes.

Zuko didn't know enough about the Air Nomads to see any similarities between them and his captors.

Their appearance was the most interesting thing about the guards. For a few minutes, Zuko busied himself trying to figure out what they were saying to each other, but then the gibberish all started to blend together and Zuko had to shake himself in order to avoid drifting off to sleep.

Zuko glanced over at the medic treating Azula, wondering what was taking so long. The wound he had seen had not been large enough to merit more than a couple of stitches and it had been at least ten minutes since Zuko had been captured.

Azula wasn't moving.

Zuko had thought that when she had failed to fight the medic and his assistant, it had been because she had seen the futility of resistance and decided to wait until a better time to stage an escape attempt. That was sound military strategy wasn't it, waiting until the opportune moment to strike. It was the kind of thing Azula would think to do. But if Azula had given up and allowed her wound to be treated she would have been wiggling. She would have been tapping her feet in irritation and trying to hurry the medic along. She wouldn't have been lying as limp as a wet rag, putting up no more resistance than a doll being dressed.

Zuko took a step towards her. None of the guards appeared to notice, they were all too preoccupied with the one Azula had burned. Zuko walked over to his sister.

The medic was not actually doing anything to help Azula, instead he was flipping through a little book, occasionally making note of something on the palm of his left hand. The guard helping him was pressing a thick roll of cloth to Azula's wound. Zuko was dismayed to see a spot of blood seep through the center of the cloth.

After what felt like hours standing frozen in shock, the medic said something to his helper and the man lifted the cloth he was holding off of Azula's wound. It was still bleeding profusely and Zuko realized that if it kept up, soon enough Azula wouldn't have any blood left in her.

Zuko kicked the guard in the back of the knee and shoved him, causing the man to topple over sideways. He tore the cloth away from the guard's hands and pressed it back where it had been before, keeping the blood inside of Azula.

Behind Zuko, the guards started shouting. Zuko tuned them out, instead trying to pull Azula away from the medic with his free hand. He succeeded in moving his sister a couple of feet, but then one of the guard came up behind him, grabbed Zuko around the waist and pulled him backwards.

Zuko elbowed the guard in the ribs, making him loosen his grip, but before Zuko could break loose entirely, another guard took him by the right arm and a third by the left.

The first guard muttered something apologetic to the other two, before letting go of Zuko and backing away. Zuko kicked sideways, the only attack he was really capable of at the moment, at the guards holding him, but they didn't so much as wince.

The medic drew a knife and walked towards Azula. Zuko, with a burst of strength he had not previously known he had possessed, wrenched his right arm free. He aimed a blow at the guard holding his left arm and, even though Zuko hadn't really been trying to, a tongue of hot flame shot from his fist and lit the guard's sleeve on fire.

The guard shrieked and let go of Zuko. For perhaps half a second, Zuko was thrilled at his success, but then someone tackled him from behind. Zuko's head cracked painfully against the cement floor. The room spun, just once, before settling such that Zuko was lying on his stomach, with his head twisted sideways so that he was facing Azula and the medic. There was a weight on his back, heavy enough to make breathing a bit of an effort.

As far as Zuko could tell, the medic hadn't been the least bit bothered by his attempt at escape. He had cut the clothing away from Azula's shoulder and was doing something to it, using a stick to trace designs on Azula's skin.

When he finished, the medic touched his fingertips to the design. Little bolts of light flickered across Azula's skin, not unlike the light that coincided with the jolt that had brought Zuko and Azula to this place. Azula stirred, but did not get up.

The medic smiled and nodded to himself, before turning to the half-dozen or so guards watching him. He said something, his voice ringing with authority, and one guard scooped up Azula. The weight disappeared from Zuko's back, and one of the guards yanked Zuko to his feet and dragged him down the hall, following the medic.

Zuko considered struggling, with the hopes that he could break lose, snatch Azula from her kidnappers, and make it away. Then he realized that there wasn't anywhere for him to make it to. As far as he knew everyone within a forty mile radius was in cahoots with this group of guards. The 'guards' might even have been sent directly by the head of state to protect whatever experiment Zuko and Azula had interrupted.

This might be how getting arrested worked.

The medic led the group back down into the basement and through the halls until they reached an area that Zuko and Azula had not seen in all their sneaking around. A section of hallway had been set up as a sort of home base, with most of the doors propped open and personal effects scattered everywhere. It wasn't the neat camp that Zuko would expect from the Fire Nation, but these people probably had lower standards.

The medic opened one of the very few doors that was shut, revealing a small room mostly taken up by a bed. The guard holding Azula slipped into the room only long enough to drop her on the bed. Zuko was shoved in after her and the door was slammed shut behind him. There was a funny sort of clinking sound from the other side of the door, probably the medic locking it.

Zuko hurried over to his sister, very nearly tripping over his own feet in his rush to reach the bed.

Her wound was gone. The design the medic had drawn on was still there, circling around where the wound should have been, but the hole itself was gone.

Zuko poked where it should have been.

Azula gave a little cry from the back of her throat and cracked her eyes open. "Zuzu," she muttered.

She was looking at him, but her eyes didn't quite seem to focus properly. "I'm here," Zuko said. He took hold of her right hand, thinking that she was less likely to be bothered by being touched on her uninjured side.

"I want Dad," Azula said. Her hand twitched, as though she had decided to let go of Zuko's and changed her mind halfway through. "It's too bright in here."

Zuko thought the room was rather dim, being lit mainly by the light coming through a sheet of bubbled glass set in the door. He unwrapped the blanket from around himself and held it between his hands and his shoulder so that it was shading Azula's face. "Is that better?"

"I want Dad," Azula repeated. Then she shook herself, seeming to remember what had happened before she had fainted. "What did they do with us?"

"They did something to your shoulder," Zuko said. "They fixed it. Then they shut is up in here."

For a moment Zuko thought his sister was going to cry. Then she sniffed, the loud wet sniff of someone sucking mucus back into their nose, and spat out, "Why didn't you stop them? You're pathetic, Zuzu. At least I burned that one. You let them lock us up!"

"I burned one too," Zuko snapped. He turned away from Azula, letting the blanket fall onto the bed.

Azula winced, putting up a hand to protect her eyes from the light. "It hurts," she said, so softly that Zuko was probably not meant to hear it.

"But they fixed it," Zuko said. "Your shoulder doesn't have a hole in it anymore." He tried to sneak his hands behind him to check that the door was really locked, but the cuffs prevented him from moving them past his back.

Azula sat up, her eyes still closed. "That doesn't make it hurt less, Dum-dum." She waved her arms in a clumsy attempt at a firebending move found in the advanced sets she was just starting to learn. When Zuko had seen her do it before, perfectly executed at always, it had sent a wave of pale yellow fire across the room that had burned two instructors not smart enough to get out of the way. Now, it sent a handful of sparks flying in Zuko's direction.

"What was that for?"

Azula flopped back down onto the bed, a dull whine coming from the back of her throat.

"You could have hurt me really badly!"

"Go away," Azula mumbled. She rolled onto her side so that she was facing into the corner.

"I can't," Zuko said. "They locked us in here, remember?" Now that Azula wasn't watching him, Zuko turned around so that he could reach the doorknob. He fiddled with it a bit, but he couldn't get the door open no matter how hard he pushed.

"Then be quiet," Azula said. There was a crackle to her voice that Zuko had never heard before. "I want to sleep." She kicked out with her legs, and it took Zuko a second to realize that she was feeling around for the blanket he had dropped on the bed.

Zuko picked the blanket up and laid it over his sister. "You can sleep if you want to. I'm not tired."

Azula did not answer. Her breathing had fallen into the deep, even rhythm of sleep more quickly than Zuko believed she could really fall asleep, but Zuko didn't call her out on it. It was probably for the best that she sleep as much as she could, what with her injury and all.

It would be smart for Zuko to sleep now too, when their captors weren't likely to interrupt them for a while, but he was far too tense to even lay down. It was like their was a motor in his legs, pushing him to move and move and move even though his eyes were starting to ache and his head was fuzzy.

Zuko started pacing. Six steps from the door to the opposite wall. Turn around. Six steps from the wall to the door. Repeat.

It didn't do anything to calm him, but eased the ache in Zuko's legs so he kept at it, long past the point where Azula's breathing changed again and Zuko was sure she had really fallen asleep.