AN: Fanart! Guys! Fanart! From the gracious, talented, in-all-ways-wonderful Phantomhill, based upon chapter 12 and a certain plushie Appa (it is exactly as cute as you're imagining): deviantart com/ phantomhill/ art/ Plushie-Appa-793346140
Chapter Nineteen: Day 3, Practicing Evasive Maneuvers
Katara had sent her brother a really long message yesterday. Apparently. And Sokka had used the ample space on its back to… to...
Water Tribe,
Did you seriously send a message with nothing but titles? I'm limiting your paper from now on.
Prince States-the-Obvious,
Did you seriously forget to include your titles?
Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe, He Who Wins Forever, Gracious in Victory, Never Knowing Defeat, Now Accepting the Terms of Your Title-Duel Surrender, I'm Running Out of Paper Because You're Stingy And I Can Only Write So Small But You Know You Lost
IT WASN'T A CONTEST
Uh-huh. Next you'll tell me Sozin didn't start this war just to get himself some sweet sweet titles. PS: Good morning Katara!
Zuko banged his head against Uncle's desk. And just stayed like that for awhile, until there was another knock on the door. He threw it open with a well-deserved scowl.
"I didn't even send the hawk back yet! How did he write another message?"
He didn't, creaked Lieutenant Jee's armor. "There's a ship on the horizon, sir. Commander Zhao's."
"...Can we pretend we didn't see him?" Zuko did not mean to say, except that maybe he did.
Lieutenant Jee stared down at him. "Sir. If I may speak freely?"
Didn't he always? Not always out loud, but… Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fine."
"The helmsman was inexcusably sloppy when those pirates chased us. I recommend we practice evasive maneuvers."
"...What about Zhao?"
"Who, sir?"
You are my favorite officer, Zuko didn't say. But he might have grinned.
I've never had a commanding officer not-say that before, Jee didn't reply. But his armor might have creaked in a flustered fashion. He got even more emotionally confused when an iguana-parrot dropped off the dresser and onto his shoulder.
Pirate parrots knew captains when they saw them.
As Hawky swooped back down, Sokka let out a suspiciously whoop-like sound. Taunting the prince through letters was even more fun than in person: it came with built-in volume control. And a comprehensive fire protection plan. He traded the bird a piece of jerky for her scroll.
Sokka,
(The letter started, and he had never been so worried to see his own name.)
Don't write any more messages until I send you another hawk. Commander Zhao is approaching our ship and I don't want him getting a heading on you. The Avatar is mine.
Zuko
Commander Zhao, as in the guy who wanted Zuko dead? Zuko, who was on a much smaller ship than Zhao's. The ship that also contained his sister. His sister who was a waterbender and a member of the Southern Water Tribe, both of which were big frowny-face items to the Fire Nation at large.
Well. That wasn't alarming at all.
...Wait, Zuko had been using these messages to get a heading?
"Hawky, you traitor!" he shrieked.
Zuko had also taken the time to burn the characters for 'Fire Flake' into her carrier.
The waterbender was over practicing on that half of the deck, and Zuko was on this half, and he'd never been so aware that the Dancing Dragon had an emphasis on the dancing part.
"Uncle," he snapped, stopping because he knew these moves and not because Sokka's sister kept shooting him looks. "You said you were going to teach me the advanced set."
"Wouldn't you rather ask Lieutenant Jee to practice with you again?" asked Uncle, who seemed amused by the Water Tribe girl. And possibly a little by him.
"Lieutenant Jee is overseeing the practice maneuvers." Zuko could see him up on the bridge, the parrot still perched on his shoulder. He seemed to be rolling his shoulders every few seconds, but otherwise ignoring it like it was a superior officer.
"Ah, yes. The practice maneuvers." Uncle smiled. "They remind me of a certain bending move… a very advanced one. I know of only one person who knows how to perform it."
"Is that person you?" Zuko crossed his arms.
"However did you guess! This is a move I made myself, by studying waterbenders…"
Across the deck, their resident waterbender started paying attention as he explained.
And Zuko started feeling like treason. "Uncle," he whisper-hissed. "I only know three people who can throw lightning, and none of them are going to do it at me."
Uncle just looked at him. For long enough that Zuko had time to think of all three of those people in turn and Zuko did not like what the old man was implying. But what Uncle finally said, very simply, was: "Azula."
"...How do I start?"
"One moment. Lady Katara? Would you care to join us? Ah, I thought you might. Now, this is based primarily upon the Northern style, and I do not know if it will work for waterbenders as it does for fire, but if you are ever staring down a lightning bolt it certainly would not hurt to try…"
Sokka's sister edged closer. Uncle demonstrated the broad movements—in, down, up, out—and then started talking them through the finer hand and finger positions. It was best to lead with one or two fingers of the receiving hand, to channel the energy upon a more focused path through the body—
The waterbender gasped. "What happened to your hands?"
Uncle shook his sleeves back down. "A misunderstanding," he said, at the same time Zuko growled:
"The Earth Kingdom."
She crossed her arms. "I'm sure you were doing something evil at the time."
"He was visiting hot springs!"
"And they had not heard that I've retired! Now, let us start from the beginning—"
"I don't want to practice this anymore," Zuko growled. "Jee!"
Up on the bridge, Lieutenant Jee briefly paused, then started ignoring him like a shoulder parrot.
"I know you can hear me!"
Zuko was dancing with one of his soldiers (and the iguana-parrot). Katara was confused.
She was even more confused when a short woman stepped on deck, dressed a lot like Katara. That was: in one of the prince's shirts.
"There are women on this ship?" Katara asked.
"Excuse me?" her guard said, and took off his—her mask.
Oh.
Oops.
The short woman started laughing. (This drew princely glares, mostly directed at her clothes.)
"You!" Katara said, recognizing the short woman on volume alone, if nothing else. "You're the one who yelled at me!"
"You're the one who called me Zuko," the woman snapped back. Katara's guard made a sound somewhere between a snerk and a gulp. The short woman side-glared her, then shifted her gaze back to Katara. And smiled like a gator-shark. "You know how to use that dagger? ...Want to learn?"
Engineer Hanako was terrifying with a knife (where had she even been hiding that) and Zuko was never sassing her again, she could keep his shirts.
Crewman Teruko was not on the same page. "Pfft, what kind of firebender are you? Steel isn't for real fights."
"I can weld a seam, but I can't punch fire across the deck. Not exactly a requirement in engineering." Hanako casually disarmed Sokka's sister, in a way that made her squawk. "Us crappy benders should always learn both."
"I'm not crappy!" the waterbender protested. "I just need practice!"
"Tell it with the knife, girl."
Katara panted, and panted some more, and accepted the diminutive-but-she-was-never-going-to-say-that-out-loud woman's hand up.
"That's probably enough for today. If you're still our prisoner tomorrow, let's do this again."
"I'm not a prisoner!"
"You smell like one."
...Katara slumped. "Ugh. I wish I could take a bath."
"We have showers, you know," the woman said. "Just go during women's hou—mpfh?"
Katara's guard had placed a finger on the woman's lips. "A bath, you say. A warm bath?"
The guard was grinning at Katara. Slowly, she turned that expression on the prince.
Zuko felt the brief urge to run. He didn't, because a prince did not flee. This proved to be a tactical error.
Katara crossed her arms, quietly stinking-in-place as she waited for the world to make sense again. Her guard had wrestled a laundry tub up into Katara's room, and bullied other soldiers into bringing water. And now Zuko was… draped over the edge, muttering a steady stream of complaints but looking like a polar dog sprawled near a fire. He'd rolled up his sleeves (and why were there oil spots all over his shirt?), and was swirling his arms around, apparently heating the water.
So firebending had at least one non-homicidal use. Good to know.
"That's warm enough," her guard said. Teruko, Katara thought her name was.
"No it's not," the prince said.
"Mailboy. We are not trying to boil lobster-shrimp. Remove your arms from the tub."
"Nu-uh. There are still cold spots."
"...'Mailboy'?" Katara repeated.
"Sorry, habit." Teruko had completely removed her helmet at some point. She was less intimidating without it, except when she smiled.
"Princes don't do laundry," the knife-wielding engineer—Hanako? What was with all of these 'ko' names?—smirked. "But mailboys do."
"Wait, is this about Omashu? I thought Aang was the mailboy, not..." Katara asked. Then realized there was a more pressing issue at hand. "Wait, Zuko knows how to do laundry?"
"I'm right here, peasant," the prince complained. But it was a mumbly, relaxed sort of complaint. Steam was collecting in his short hair.
"I think I need to hear this story," Katara said.
The two women exchanged glances. Her guard spoke. "Yeah. I think you do."
"So it starts," Hanako picked up, "on a steamer two hours upriver from the Wani. It starts, as most Prince Zuko stories do, with really incompetent lying..."
"Hey!"
There was something about hearing Omashu's events told by Fire Nation soldiers that felt really weird. Like there were people on the other side who thought they were the good guys. And every time Katara laughed she felt just a little horrible on the inside.
"...It was what, two hours until he stopped saying everything out loud? We had to keep him shut up in the medical tent, because he started this running commentary on which soldiers looked like which courtiers." Hanako snickered.
"Oh Agni, I remember that." Teruko put in. "Remember what he said about the Lieutenant and Zhao?"
" 'What amazing children their sideburns would have'," Hanako cackled.
"Hate you all," Zuko said, like he was about to fall asleep. He was making little waves in the tub with one hand, while his head rested on his other arm.
"But why did you have to go undercover at all?" Katara asked.
"Father won't let me come home without the Avatar," the prince replied.
"What? Why?"
Hanako and Teruko exchanged another look. A very quick one. Then Hanako took over. "Royal tradition," she waved a crazy royals hand. "All the princes and princesses take a shot at it; 'Avatar hunting' is a good way to see the empire. Prince Zuko's just the unlucky one who actually found the kid. I guess we're out here until somebody catches him for real. Can you imagine if we actually did? From rust bucket crew to national heroes..."
Hanako was still talking, but there was something on Zuko's face that said her words weren't right at all. He flicked droplets off his hands like they had personally offended him, and stood.
"The water's ready. Enjoy your bath, peasant."
The steam coming off it felt colder than a moment ago. Katara didn't think that was just in her head.
There was a knock at the door. "Got a letter for you," a voice called.
"Come in," Zuko called, like someone who didn't remember his room was currently her room.
There was a pause, and then Hawker Genji entered. "Didn't know you were in here, sir."
Zuko's eyes were locked on the rolled paper he carried. "That's the royal seal."
"Sir…"
The prince snatched the ribbon-wrapped letter, and turned it over in his hands. "It's for... Katara?"
"So you do know my name." She said it almost teasingly. She expected him to snipe back, not... look angry, and then like someone had kicked him, and then like nothing at all.
He shoved the letter at her chest. "We'll be letting Zhao catch up with us soon. Stay in this room."
"I'm not your prisoner!"
"Would you rather be his?"
Hanako slipped between them. "Come on, sir. Let's get you a good shirt."
The prince nodded stiffly, and followed the engineer out. He didn't seem to remember that there was a whole chest of shirts in the room, and none of his crew reminded him. The shirt was… probably not the point. The Hawker bowed and left; the guard excused herself, and resumed her position out in the hall. It was a swift and extremely obvious retreat from all parties.
Katara sat down on the edge of the tub. She hadn't done anything wrong, and they'd all been… almost having fun, before. Before the stupid letter had shown up. She felt a little horrible on the inside again, and didn't know why.
That feeling disappeared quickly as she read Azula's well-illustrated reply.
Katara wouldn't fall for the prince's huggably-misguided-child act again; sisters knew their brothers.
Zhao had been largely joking about completing his collection of royal letters. And then the princess' had shown up, early that morning, in all its imperious curtness. His first thought: she is ten, the sun hasn't even risen, I am going back to bed.
His second: this is the future Fire Lord, and it's never too early to start sucking up.
By mid-morning, the prince's ship was back in sight. Not that Zhao had ever been far from it. He'd delayed at Crescent Island as long as he could; now he had to at least appear to be following the Fire Lord's orders. Even if those orders contradicted General Iroh's will—a man who nominally had no right to command him at all, but had made several very good points concerning Zhao's life expectancy. And who, at the end of the day, could still throw lightning. As could the Fire Lord. At least Azula's first foray into command did not contradict either her father or uncle.
Zhao's collection of royal letters was, in all honesty, beginning to be a headache. Some soothing jasmine would have been wonderful, but General Iroh was very blatantly not drinking his own brew. Again. Zhao sniffed his cup, then set it down.
"Your ship was very elusive this morning, Prince Zuko."
"We had a run-in with pirates earlier in the week," the prince replied. "It brought to light our need to practice evasive maneuvers."
"Pirates. Really."
"Lieutenant Jee," the prince nodded to his officer. "Ready the pirates for prisoner transfer. Zhao's ship is more equipped for them than ours."
...Zhao was forced to concede that there were, in fact, pirates. And it would have been considerate if Princess Azula had deigned to mention them. But that wasn't what her letter had been about.
"And your other prisoner?" Zhao asked.
"...Who?"
The banished prince was getting marginally better at court speech, Zhao had to admit. At bold-faced lying, not so much.
In the mess hall, Zhao's men were unsubtly fishing for information on the Avatar. Most of the crew was giving them the runaround, or outright ignoring them. But Helmsman Kyo (now on break after an intensive morning of having Lieutenant Jee and his new… iguana-parrot?... staring over his shoulder)... well, Kyo was starting to get a little concerned about Pikeman Kazuto.
Concern the first-and-foremost: the guy was still awake. It was past noon, why was he awake, it was like the guy's insomnia had downed a pint of caffeine since the waterbender had come aboard.
Concern the second: he'd written something down, and he kept looking at it. Under the table. Really shifty-like.
Concern the last: he'd taken his tray and sat, very deliberately, across from one of Zhao's people.
So Kyo took his tray, and sat next to him. Just to discourage whatever this was. And now Kazuto was twitching, and that paper was getting crumpled-and-smoothed, crumpled-and-smoothed over one of his knees, and Kyo angled to get a look—
Southern waterbender, he saw. And daughter of Chief Hakoda.
Ah. Well.
Monkeyfeathers.
Kazuto was giving him sort of a desperate you understand right look, and Zhao's guy was pretending he didn't see any of this but was clearly waiting—
And the note didn't say anything about her knowing the Avatar. Nothing that directly compromised the prince's mission. It was just… the kind of note that would get her off the Wani and make her Zhao's problem, instead. Let her throw a tantrum and threaten his ship, that would help the prince, wouldn't it? (Or maybe she could walk in on his men in the shower.)
Kazuto slipped the note to Zhao's guy, and Kyo pretended like he didn't see anything wrong happening. This was a well-documented talent among Fire Nation soldiers.
"A woman in your private rooms, Prince Zuko?" Zhao practiced his I care about your reputation voice, with a dash of parental this is for your own good. "And a barbarian, at that. Your sister is afraid you might become distracted from your mission. You know how she wishes for your swift return."
She doesn't want that. At all, the prince's face said, very clearly. And: How did she even know?
Zhao wondered that, too. It was existentially unsettling to find that the world's most cloistered ten-year-old had more reliable sources of information than he did. Another reason to humor her whims.
One of his people knocked, and entered the general's quarters without invitation. Good man. He slipped Zhao a note, and waited for orders.
Waterbender, Zhao read. And daughter of Chief Hakoda. He slipped it up his sleeve, and did not react.
"What was that?" the prince frowned.
"Just work, your Highness. Not all of us can stop what we're doing for tea time." Ah, that bristling. Always satisfying. Zhao turned to his man, and waved dismissively. "Collect what you need to requisition the part. Bring it to me for the final sign-off."
The banished prince narrowed his eyes. Zhao benignly lifted his teacup—
The General smiled, just slightly. Zhao very quickly set it back down.
Katara was finger-combing her wet hair when the commotion started.
Teruko was arguing with someone. "Show me the orders, then."
"We're going down the hall, not to the capitol. I didn't get it in writing. Listen, just come with us and ask him yourself."
Katara cracked open the door. "What's going on?"
Four other soldiers were in the corridor, and Teruko had put her helmet back on, so Katara wasn't even sure which one she was.
"Go back ins—" the one closest to the door said. Teruko.
"You're wanted in the Prince's audience chamber," one of the other soldiers said. Which was the fanciest way of saying Iroh's room that Katara could imagine.
"What, does he want to show off his prisoner?"
The soldier shifted. His armor creaks meant nothing to her. "Can't say, ma'am. Right this way."
"Whatever." She slammed the door behind her. And locked it. And marched; she knew the way. Teruko slipped in next to her side. The other four tried to form a diamond around them, but Katara kept walking faster than the guy who was trying to get in front. And it really wasn't that far to Iroh's room, anyway.
Knocking didn't seem necessary. She was expected, after all. Katara threw open the door, and set her hands on her hips. "What did you want?"
The prince did not look like he'd expected her. His uncle did not seem surprised. By process of elimination, the last stuck-up guy must be Commander Zhao. He was smiling like someone needed to kick him in the teeth.
"Katara, daughter of Chief Hakoda," he greeted. "Do come in. Tell me, are you the last waterbender of your tribe? Because I could have sworn the last was dealt with—oh, six or so years ago? And yet here you are. Any relation to the last 'last'?" He turned to the prince, with a shrug and a smile. "These waterbenders, they're like ice-roaches. Squish as many as you want, there's always another ready to crawl out of the walls."
Katara did not murder him. This was primarily because there were five guards between them, and Teruko's arms were suddenly around her, pinning her arms to her side, and there was only so much waterbending she could do with three cups of tea and kicking feet (and the entire ocean around them, bucking).
"Really, you should have sent a hawk as soon as you caught her, my prince. She's far too dangerous to keep on such a small ship. Even more dangerous once her father knows where she is. I wonder what the Southern Slaughterer would give to see his daughter returned unharmed…"
Couldn't reach her dagger, either, and why hadn't she gone for that first? Hanako was right about crappy benders and steel, a knife to his coal-black heart would have been quicker—
The prince crossed his arms. "Her father can't have her back."
—Azula was right Zuko was a terrible human being—
"And you can't have her, either. I'm trading her for the Avatar."
Zhao kept eighty percent of his attention on the too-calm general, and split the other twenty between the two children. "With all due respect, my prince, the tactical advantage of disabling Hakoda's fleet far outweighs that of putting one twelve-year-old monk in chains—"
"Commander Zhao. They don't even let girls fight in the Water Tribes. Their Chief didn't care when I rammed into his village; do you really think he'll care that we have one untrained girl hostage? The only one she's valuable to is her brother. And her brother has the Avatar."
For the first time in his life, Zhao couldn't tell if the prince was lying. He was lying, wasn't he? Everyone lied at court. (But the prince had always been terrible at that game.) (The General's increasingly amused eye-twinkles were not helping Zhao's concentration.)
"This is a matter for the admiralty to decide," Zhao hedged. "They'll know how to best utilize—"
"I'm not giving you my prisoner." The prince did not know the meaning of 'hedging.'
"I'm afraid I must insist. Or must I speak to someone higher for clarification?"
The prince's shoulders tensed, but his scowl only deepened. "Yes. You must."
"Very well. Thank you for the tea, my prince."
The tea had long ago soaked into all of their clothes, and the cushions, and the throw rugs. The girl had even splashed some as far as the wall hangings. And when Zhao stood, his sea legs had to briefly fight against the unnatural rolling of the waves below them. Those smoothed, somewhat, as he crossed back to his own vessel. And remained localized around the prince's ship as his own slipped away.
Zhao was just as happy to leave the waterbender aboard the Wani; it would solve several of his problems if the girl sank that tub. But he'd still send a hawk to the Fire Lord, on principle.
"Would you calm down," Zuko said, in the quietest shout he could muster right now. Because Zhao was going to write to his father that he had a Water Tribe peasant savage barbarian staying in his room and wearing his clothes and apparently the peasant herself had already written to Azula about it and eww, like he would even want to do that with her. "This is all your fault!"
"My fault! How is this my fault?"
"He knew who you were!"
"I didn't tell him!"
"You wrote to my sister!"
"I didn't tell her! I don't put a half-page of titles on my letters, Prince Zuko, son of Ursa and—"
"Don't say her name!" he tried to cut back on his flame daggers, before he singed the sleeves of this shirt. It was Hanako's now, and he didn't want to give it back with holes burned in it. "If you didn't tell her, then how did she know? How did Zhao know?"
"I don't know! They're your evil commander, and your sister! You tell me!"
He forced his fingers to uncurl. Shook the flames off. Let his hands cool, just a second, then pinched the bridge of his nose hard. "Because it's Azula. She just… knows. I warned you she won't tell you before she tries to kill you."
The waterbender spluttered incoherently. The waves under them smoothed out to a choppy confusion. Teruko took this as a sign that she could finally let the girl go.
"...You were serious about that?"
"It's Azula," Zuko repeated, like the name contained all anyone ever needed to know. Uncle seemed somewhat disturbed by the accuracy of this statement, and did what he always did in times of internal strife: he took a sip of his tea. "...Is it okay?"
"The best you have made yet!" Uncle smiled. And set his cup back down.
Zuko slumped.
For some reason, the waterbender interpreted this as an invitation to join them. She sat down, her eyes on the porthole as Zhao's ship grew smaller.
"That guy is… exactly what I expected the Fire Nation to be."
Zuko sipped his own tea. It was a little cold now, but it wasn't bad. "Your brother thinks he's trying to kill me."
"Is he?"
"Uncle thinks so."
"What do you think?" she asked carefully, and Uncle was paying attention in a totally-not-listening way.
Zuko scowled at both of them. "I don't know who he's taking his orders from. Father wants me back."
"Of course, Prince Zuko," Uncle agreed neutrally, letting the waterbender make all his dubious faces for him.
Zuko vindictively drank the rest of his tea, just to watch the old man wince.
(And it completely slipped his mind to send an all clear message to Sokka.)
Sokka did not forget. That Zuko forgot. That he hadn't received anything after "Zhao is coming." He sat watching the sky for a hawk that never came, ignoring Aang's I-know-what-will-cheer-you-up! marble tricks, biting his nails as the sun set.
(If Katara had known, she would have called this situation karma.)
AN: Replies to guesties:
spring, chapter 18: With Azula, ruining lives is caring. :)