Here's chapter two! Our Heros are waiting for Aang to return with Prince Zuko, Zuko himself is having nightmares, and one former Admiral is falling quickly into a state of paranoia…

Disclaimer: I don't own A: tLA, some penguin herders at Nick do. Go figure.

A Wind Among the Waters Chapter 2: Zhao the Worthless

It's good to be King, Zhao thought as he gently picked a sinew of meat from his teeth. He smiled and closed his eyes. Nothing in his twenty years of military training could have prepared him for what it meant to be a Lord. He was surrounded with every pleasure imaginable, wine, women, and gold. He felt powerful beyond his wildest dreams, though perhaps that was only an aftereffect of the thing in the vail that he had become fond of drinking. It really didn't matter, because a Fire Lord had nothing to fear from anyone, and Zhao certainly wasn't afraid of the old man kneeling before him, begging helplessly for his son.

"Please," the old man whined, bowing his head to the ground, "My boy is only sixteen! You have older warriors to fight for you. I beg you, let him stay here!"

Zhao smiled. He got up and strode briskly to the man. At last he had an opportunity to stretch his muscles, and his temper. "Your son has shown fine potential as a soldier, Gisan," he said in a calm, friendly voice. "He doesn't need your concern. Unless, of course, it's not his ability you worry about."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his guards' faces visibly tighten. They knew enough about the Lord to know that he was about to do something terrible. He almost flashed them a smile, but he held himself back. Let them think what they will. They don't frighten me; no more than the old man.

No, he didn't fear the man, he feared what the man represented, a lack of faith. The people of the Fire nation hated him, and they were slowly ceasing to hide it. Zhao the Worthless, the guards called him, and now they didn't even bother whispering it behind his back. The man was small; Zhao knew he would break easily. He must destroy the traitors one by one, and soon the acts of rebellion would stop.

The man looked up, uncertainty and, yes, fear slowly creeping into his eyes. "What—what do you mean, Lord Zhao?"

"Perhaps," he whispered icily, "perhaps you don't trust your son's life in my hands. Perhaps you think me incapable of protecting your precious brat's life."

Zhao grabbed the old man's sholder in an iron grip. "Perhaps you would seek to defy me, Gisan?" His voice has risen to a roar, and his fingers gripped tighter and tighter until, with a sickening snap, he felt the old man's bones shatter. He smiled cruelly as the old man slid to the floor and whimpered in pain. Zhao turned to the scowling soldiers and roared, "Take this garbage to the dungeon, now!" Then he turned on his heel and walked out of the room, in the direction of his chambers.

"Godhand!" He called as he swung open the steel door to his lavish room. "Godhand, I need you, now!"

He waited, tapping his foot impatiently. Then, with a quiet rustle of the velvet window curtains, he appeared. Godhand; wrapped in a black cloak with his face hidden by a tight fitting cloth. Zhao thought he smiled by the way the cloth pulled, but it might have only been his imagination. He did not imagine Godhand's bow, and the assasin who had served him for years said quietly, "My Lord wishes something of me?"

The assasin's voice had always made Zhao shudder pleasantly. It was cold, calculated, and full of cruelty. "Yes, my friend, there's something I'm in dire need of."

Before Zhao coud see him move, Godhand had dissapeared, and reappeared again inches behind him. "My, my," he said gently, running one finger down the small of Zhao's back, "I wonder what my dear Fire Lord could possibly desire?"

"Not that, Godhand! There isn't time now. I think a rebellion is building in the capitol, right under our noses."

The assasin laughed. "If that's so, we'll squash the rebels like bugs under our feet. The people of this land have grown soft, unlike my Lord. They're no threat."

Zhao growled and threw his sashes to the floor. "If these rebels can convince the citizens to stage a revolt, they could be a very serious threat. I want you to find the rebel leaders, and kill them. Understood?"

"Understood." He smiled and took the gnarled sword from the sheath behind his back. Gently, he ran the blade along the length of his employer's face. "I shall destroy any man who threatens the life of Lord Zhao."

The assasin sheathed his blade and turned to go. "However, my Lord," he said, his mask once again progecting the presence of a smile, "I expect due reward when I return."

The killer called Godhand dissapeared into the gloom of the evening, and Zhao laughed. No one could match the power he possesed. It really was good to be king.

"I will not let you harm my nephew!"

Iroh…why? Why did you bother protecting a fool like me? I never did anything for you…just got in the way…

"Do you understand what you're doing? Defying the Fire Lord is high treason!"

Fire Lord? Zhao…Zhao is not the Fire Lord, he couldn't be…

"I do not intend to deft my brother, only the man who seeks to usurp him!"

No, don't be a fool, Uncle! Zhao has no pride…he isn't like you…he isn't like me, Uncle…

"You senial old bastard! I should have done this long ago!"

A flash…Uncle, the knife! Please, you musn't fight him, Uncle!

Zuko watched the steel of the knife buried into Iroh's side. He saw Zhao snarling, and the crew—watching silently, saying nothing as their General sank to the floor in a pool of blood. He stared at the old man's limp body; those friendly eyes opened wide in pain and horror.

Why? Why did this happen? I don't want power…I never wanted power like Zhao did. So why is this happening to me? If only I had captured the Avatar, none of this would have happened.

And there was the Avatar, looking at him with that stupid, childish grin. Only, it wasn't really childish anymore. His face was different; longer, less round, but he was still the boy that Zuko had failed to destroy. If only I had captured the Avatar…

"You never give up, do you?" The boy asked, and Zuko blinked as he realized he wasn't dreaming. The Avatar put a finger to his lips and pointed at the peacefully snoring soldier at the other side of the room. He smiled again, and motioned Zuko to the window. I must still be dreaming, he thought, but he silently obeyed, and looked below the windowsill. He really hoped he was awake, and the flying bison hovering quietly beneath the tower window wasn't an illusion.

"Hop on," Aang demanded in a whisper, "I'll explain everything once we're out of here."

Zuko hesitated. Should he really believe his luck? What were the chances of the Avatar knowing he was here? How could he have found this place without being captured by the military? He hesitated, but the boy gave him a stern look and motioned for him to climb onto the bison's back. He decided that even if he was walking into a trap, it was better than staying in the tower, so he jumped down onto the saddle. The Avatar patted the beast's head, and with a call of "Yip, yip!" they flew away into the night.

A long time passed before they spoke. At last, Zuko couldn't stand the silence any longer. He called to the boy.

"Where are you taking me, Avatar?"

"I have a name, and it's not 'Avatar'. It's Aang."

"Fine, Aang," he said impatiently, " Now, where are you taking me?"

The boy looked ahead and turned the bison's reins sharply to the left. "To the Earth Kingdom's camp," he said quietly.

"What?" Zuko lurched foreward. "Are you insane? If you take me to the Earthbenders, they'll kill me!"

"Nope, I'm a hundred percent sure they won't kill you. After all, they're the ones who need your help." He laughed. "They really wanted to find you. It'd be a waste of all their hard work."

Zuko groaned in exasperation and flopped down on his back. The Earth Kingdom wanted to find him, did they? Did they want him to fight his own countrymen? Or were the earthbenders going to torture secrets out of him? The Ava—Aang might be flying him towards his death. He looked at the kid; well, he wasn't really a kid now. He was almost Zuko's height, and aparently stronger than he had been, but he still laughed like a kid. Did this idiot really know what the earthbenders were up to?

Zuko opened his mouth to ask, but he stopped himself. Really, he should be grateful. He could still be locked in the tower, wasting away, but instead he was free, with the wind cooling his face as he rode on a flying bison; even if that bison was headed toward an unknown, and possibly dangerous, destination.

Chapeter two draws to a close, and questions abound! Who is the mysterious killer Godhand? Will Zuko and Vega be able to agree on a plan without slitting each other's throats? And is there really a resistance movement in the Fire Nation? Find out next chapter!

Next Time: In the Camp of the Earth Kingdom