Water

The Fire Nation Ship: Part 2

Zuko didn't intend to leave his cabin. He wasn't in the mood to listen to the crewmen gossip—and there would be plenty of that now that Zuko had brought back a girl as his prisoner—or to indulge Uncle's requests to make sure that their "guest" was settled. It didn't matter whether she was settled in or not. She was a prisoner, and she was locked in one of Zuko's cells. That was all that mattered.

That, and puzzling out a way to capture the airbender.

He sat on the edge of his bunk, staring at a flickering candle. He wasn't meditating. He couldn't afford to stop planning for that long. But though the light dancing through the dimness of his cabin did nothing to ease the knotting in his stomach, it gave his thoughts a point to focus around.

Maybe he could use the Avatar as bait. The airbender seemed fond of her. Maybe Zuko could use that to his advantage. If the monk attempted to rescue the Avatar, then Zuko wouldn't have to keep chasing the boy. He could strengthen the night watch, and if the airbender tried to sneak on board, day or night, Zuko would be ready for him.

No, that wasn't certain enough. Zuko frowned deeper, resting his chin on his hand. The Avatar's brother was just as likely to make a rescue attempt. He almost certainly wouldn't succeed, but what good would it do catch the oaf mid-rescue attempt? Of course there was a chance that Zuko could capture the Water Tribe idiot, then wait until the monk came to rescue them both, but he didn't have time for that. Even if he didn't have to worry about Zhao chasing him down and taking the Avatar for himself—had Zhao gotten the idea that the girl was the Avatar?—Zuko chafed at the idea of waiting for the airbender to act first.

He'd be prepared for it. He would increase the night watch to make sure the crew had adequate warning should the airbender approach and keep a constant guard on the Avatar's cell. The crew would complain about the extra work, but it would be no more than Zuko could handle. As long as there was no risk of losing the girl, and a chance that he could catch the airbender if he attempted a rescue, nothing else mattered. And in the meantime, he would keep planning. There had to be another way to catch the airbender. Something that didn't rely on the airbender making the first move, something that allowed Zuko to do something.

He moved from his bunk to pull out the charts in search of likely ambush points along the nearby coast when voices echoed down the corridor. He froze. He recognized those voices. They weren't supposed to be here.

Zuko leapt over his bunk and slammed his door open. "What is going on out here?" he demanded, eyes wild.

The three men stopped in their tracks, exchanging glances for an uncomfortably long moment.

Taro raised his bowl. "On the way back from the galley, Prince Zuko."

"Are you?" Zuko shouted, his voice ringing back to him through the echoey corridors. "Are you on the way from the galley?"

A grizzled, hunched old man swallowed a huge bite of food in a single gulp, then looked from Zuko to the others and back again. "Unless the ship got rearranged in the last minute and we're going the wrong way." He made as though to edge past Zuko.

Zuko caught the old man by the front of his uniform. He thought he remembered the man as one of Uncle's favorite Pai Sho partners. Masao, was it? "I don't think you understand me. What are you all doing going back to your cabins?"

The third man, balding and sour-faced, shrugged. "We're all on day shift. Off to bed for me—"

"And what about the A—" Zuko caught himself. "—the waterbender?"

"She's in her cell." Masao answered slowly, a mocking edge to his tone. "Right where you wanted her, sir."

Zuko's brow crept downward into a deep scowl, and he hauled the old man up so his feet nearly dangled. "I meant," he growled, keeping his words as steady, as measured as he could manage, "Why aren't you guarding her?"

Taro and the third man—Daiki?—exchanged looks.

"Where exactly do you think she's gonna go?" Masao asked, upper lip curled into a slight sneer.

Anywhere. She'd slipped out of his grasp before. Quite literally, sometimes. She'd punched Zuko in the nose, squeezed his badly burned arm, and leapt from a bridge in the dead of night, all to escape him. And that was without the help of her friends. Zuko had underestimated her before. He wouldn't make that mistake again.

"That's not the point!" he roared, shoving the old man back toward his two companions. "I said the girl was to be guarded—"

Masao's bowl spilled, and he scowled down at it, then straightened. "I'm not sure that you did."

Wide-eyed, Taro nudged Masao with his elbow and shook his head.

"—and I expect my orders to be obeyed." Zuko scowled at each of the three men in turn. Only Taro had the sense to look a bit sheepish, a bit apologetic. That made it easier. One of the other two would get guard duty as punishment.

Zuko jabbed a finger at Masao. "You. Get down there and guard her."

"But I'm off duty."

"You ignored my orders while you were on duty. You'll guard the girl." He narrowed his eyes at Daiki. "Unless you'd like to volunteer to take his place."

Daiki backed away, shaking his head.

"Traitor," Masao said under his breath. "Prince Zuko, we have shifts for a reason. Have one of the night crew do it."

His blood felt ready to boil. "No." In two strides, he crossed to the steps leading down to the cell and slammed the door open. "You get down there. You can sleep when the waterbender does." Zuko's scowl deepened. "If you're lucky, I'll send a replacement for you on tomorrow's night shift."

Masao spluttered for a few seconds before he finally gave Zuko a venomous glare and tramped down the steps. Zuko slammed the door shut after him and looked back toward the other men. Taro and Daiki each gave a hasty bow and darted down the corridor before Zuko could say anything more.

Letting out a slow breath, Zuko rubbed his forehead with the heel of his hand.

"Prince Zuko." Uncle's voice echoed down the corridor behind him, and Zuko turned. "Have you seen to the waterbender yet?"

Not this again. Zuko shouldered his way past Uncle, toward his own cabin. "I haven't," he answered.

Uncle edged his way around the patch of spilled broth on the floor and came to stand in the doorway. "It would be wise to—"

"Masao is guarding her," Zuko said. "That's good enough."

There was a moment of quiet, then Uncle stepped closer. "I was not referring to keeping the girl under guard."

Zuko huffed and lit another candle, not looking back. Maybe he would meditate once Uncle finally left him alone. "Then what, Uncle? She's a prisoner. Keeping her in her cell is my only concern." Aside from capturing the monk. And evading Zhao. And keeping the waterbender and the monk far enough apart when he finally had them both so that they couldn't plot for an escape. And somehow getting them both back to the Fire Nation. And—

"She may need food or drink soon," Uncle suggested.

Right. Zuko hadn't eaten in a while either, but he wasn't hungry. He sat cross-legged in front of his candles. "So send her a meal from the galley."

"Perhaps visiting her cell in person—"

"I'm not going down there, Uncle," Zuko snapped, finally looking back over his shoulder. From the corner of his eye, he saw both candles flare. "I already told you, not now."

Uncle gave a slight hmpf and stared for another second. Then finally, "Very well, Prince Zuko. I will leave you to your meditation."


After much consideration, the hinges of the cell doors seemed like the weakest point. They were thick and heavy as the rest of the steel in her cell, but it seemed that the pins were just wedged in place. With enough time, enough effort, she could pry them out, kick the door out of its frame, and escape. A perfect plan.

Well, maybe not perfect. There was still a whole ship full of firebenders to contend with, and spirits only knew how many miles of ocean between the ship and land, but getting out of the cell was as good a place as any to start.

Katara wrenched and wiggled and yanked on the uppermost pin until her fingertips ached. It was working. A bit. If she squinted, she thought she could see the gap under the head of the pin widening just a bit. In a few hours, she might be able to pull it free, then there would be only four more to go. Simple. If her fingers didn't start to blister before then.

Footsteps echoed down the stairs toward her, and Katara's breath caught in her throat. She lunged across the cell toward the bunk and pulled her knees up to her chest.

They couldn't know that she was trying to escape. If they did, they might post a guard outside her cell, and then—then she would be trapped for real. She couldn't escape while a guard watched. For now, she had to pretend she was the perfect prisoner. Maybe then they would leave her alone.

Heart racing, she tried to settle in like she'd been huddled up on the bunk all along. As the footsteps came nearer, Katara peeked toward the corridor. A gray-haired firebender—the same one who'd helped lock her up in the first place—thumped his way down the corridor and stopped in front of her cell. Great. He was probably here to mock her, or to interrogate her, or—something.

The man grumbled under his breath, lips curled in disgust and anger, thumping up and down the short span of hallway, into a door opposite Katara's cell, then out again. She snuck another glance in time to see him slam a chair down and hunch into it, glowering at her.

Katara shrank back against the wall. She didn't like the intensity of his gaze.

"We were supposed to be after the Avatar," the firebender said aloud. "Instead we got a little ice rat, and Prince Zuko is so worried about keeping her in—"

"Don't call me that," Katara snapped involuntarily.

"Or what, you'll keep making that face?" The old man shook his head and leaned back in his chair. "Save it, waterbender. Prince Zuko's got you beat on scowling." He yawned and slouched down further, head resting against the wall behind him. "Now be a good little girl and go to sleep."

Katara frowned. "Why?"

The firebender peered at her through one eye. "Guard duty. Can't sleep until you do."

She pursed her lips. That sounded like a lie. A guard wouldn't be allowed to sleep just because she closed her eyes. What if they wanted her to go to sleep so they could zap her with more of the venom from that big mole-creature and she couldn't try to escape? What if they wanted to do something worse?

She sat up a little straighter. That was an easy problem to fix. She just wouldn't sleep. They couldn't do anything sneaky if she stayed awake.

Before she could say so, another, softer set of footsteps came down the corridor, and the old firebender looked toward the approaching noise.

"General Iroh," the firebender said, standing to give a halfhearted bow.

"Good evening, Masao." The other old man—the one who'd been with Zuko when Katara was captured, the one she remembered from all the way back at the South Pole, who had seen her wreck the ship—bowed in response, then turned toward Katara's cell, a tray in his hands. "Young waterbender."

She scowled at them—both of them. She didn't have to talk to them. She didn't owe them anything.

"I hope you find your accommodations acceptable," the general continued. "I assure you, we will do all in our power to avoid unpleasantness in your time aboard with us."

Accommodations. He talked like this wasn't a prison cell, like Katara wasn't locked up like a common criminal.

Her jaw tightened. "If you don't want unpleasantness, you'll have to let me go," she answered, staring into the dark, curtained corner.

The general made a thoughtful noise. "You would have to appeal to my nephew for such a request. I am under his command as much as the rest of the crew."

His nephew? Zuko? Was the general Zuko's uncle?

Where was Zuko, anyway? Shouldn't he have come down here to gloat by now? He'd caught her after weeks and weeks of failure, and he seemed like the gloating type. Katara glared even harder at the curtains and pressed herself tighter against the wall.

"In the meantime, a meal." The general stooped to place the tray on the ground in front of the bars. "It has been a long day for everyone, and I'm certain you must be hungry."

Katara glanced at the tray. She was a bit hungry. She hadn't eaten since breakfast with Sokka and Bato, and though it was a true Water Tribe meal with plenty of meat and leftover sea prunes, it felt like a lifetime ago. She should have been hungry straightaway after ice dodging, but then there had been the whole thing with Aang and the map, and—she swallowed back the lump that rose in her throat. That was all today. She'd gone ice dodging today. She'd earned her place as an adult of her tribe today. And her friend had betrayed her today.

The general was right about one thing. It had been a very long day.

But she only looked at the tray for a second before turning away again. These were firebenders. They couldn't be trusted. The food could be drugged. Or poisoned. Or both.

She wouldn't take that risk. She was smarter than that.

"I'm not," she answered loftily. It wasn't entirely a lie. She should be hungrier, but her stomach kept doing nervous flips and twists, and food didn't seem like a particularly appealing prospect. Not Fire Nation food, anyway.

The general looked skeptical, but aside from a few thoughtful noises and audible sighs, he said nothing. Good. Katara didn't need or want concern from a firebender.

"I hope I might expect your company for a Pai Sho match tomorrow," the general said to the other firebender.

"Wouldn't count on it. I'll have to wait for Prince Zuko's orders."

"Ah. I will have a word with him." The general turned back to Katara's cell. "I will leave the tray. If you change your mind about eating, Masao can warm the food or send for another meal."

Katara scowled, still staring straight ahead. The general, it seemed, wasn't troubled by that. With a quick bow to her, then to the firebender Masao, he trotted off.

The door at the top of the stairs closed again, quieter than she expected, and Masao gave her a stern look. "Get to it. Off to sleep with you."

How stupid did they think she was? She moved to the edge of the bunk and sat as tall as she could. "No thank you."

The firebender groaned. "I'm supposed to be off duty, waterbender. Sleep."

Katara felt an almost gleeful streak of defiance run up her spine. They couldn't make her sleep. As long as she kept her guard up, they couldn't make her do anything. She stood up and planted her hands on her hips.

"I said no. I'm not the least bit tired. And you know what? I don't think I'm going to be tired for a good, long time."


Sleep eluded him. It was annoying. He'd done everything he could for now, he had the Avatar—the waterbender—and the skeleton of an idea of how to capture the monk, but he couldn't do much else until he was certain he was far enough from Zhao's fleet.

Zuko had done enough for one day. He should be able to sleep. The rest would come.

But even with all the lights extinguished and the crew gone quiet outside his cabin, he couldn't keep his mind from spinning. He'd have to use the waterbender as bait to capture the monk, he'd worked out that much. But how to do it? How could he put the girl somewhere both open enough for the monk—and the Water Tribe oaf, Zuko just had to accept that the idiot would be there too—to approach without allowing the girl to escape? Zuko wasn't certain whether she could bend water on the other side of a steel ship hull, but he didn't savor the idea of pushing her to such a point of desperation that she would try. Bringing her on land at all would be dangerous if she figured out how to earthbend. And letting her loose on the deck of the ship would be a disaster. He couldn't force himself to think through the details any further than that. It would be a disaster.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Zuko rolled onto his side and clamped his hands over his ears as though they could drown out the endless roar of his thoughts. All he wanted was to sleep. That shouldn't be too much to ask.

But apparently it was. When another few minutes passed, his mind every bit as noisy as before, Zuko pushed himself up off his bunk. Maybe a walk around the ship would do the trick. It certainly couldn't hurt, not at this point.

He dressed in the dark and emerged into the too-quiet, too-bright corridor. For a second, he looked at the door to the lower level, where the Avatar was locked away. Maybe it would help if he just—

No. He didn't need to reassure himself that she was still there. She was locked away behind steel bars, there was nothing she could do even if she wanted to escape.

Besides, Zuko didn't need his failure rubbed in his nose. He was aware enough of it already. If he went down there, if the Avatar was still awake—if Masao was still awake—one or the other of them would remind him that he hadn't a managed to capture the monk, that, as far as the world knew, he'd only managed to secure a particularly angry piece of bait. Zuko didn't need that kind of mockery. And he couldn't take the risk that he would slip up and call the girl the Avatar. If word of that made it to Zhao, Zuko might never make it home.

Letting out a long breath, he pushed through the door to the outside instead. The night air struck him, cool and brisk, and Zuko paused just an instant to breathe it in. After hours shut in his own stuffy cabin, it felt good, though it did nothing to calm his racing thoughts.

He made a circuit around the deck before he noticed movement on the observation deck. His brow furrowed and he turned for the steps. The watchman started and turned when Zuko reached the platform.

"Prince Zuko!" The man bowed hastily before turning back to the telescope and aiming it well above the horizon.

"What's going on up here? Do we have something in our sights?"

The man shrugged. "Hard to tell. There's movement, but it's too dark to make anything else out." He glanced back at Zuko. "Whatever it is, I think it's heading this way."

Zuko crossed the observation deck in a few strides and shoved the man aside. Sure enough, if he followed the angle the man had set and squinted, he could make out a dark, indistinct shape moving across the sky.

"Do you know what it is, Prince Zuko?"

He couldn't tell for certain. It was impossible to make out any detail from this distance, in this darkness. The thing could be tiny and close, or enormous and distant. Knowing his luck, Zuko was almost certain that it was the latter.

Straightening, he stepped off to the side and squinted into the starry night sky as the watchman took up his post again. "I have an idea," he replied.

The monk and his bison. It had to be. The thing was following the ship. Aside from a messenger hawk, nothing else that would be following Zuko could fly. And no messenger hawks would fly through the night if they could help it. Zuko moved closer to the railing. If he strained his eyes, he could almost make out the smudge of gray without the help of the telescope.

It had to be the monk. There was nothing else it could be.

His pulse hastened, and Zuko hovered by the rail for an instant. He could wake the crew. Then if the monk was stupid enough to land, he would be easy to take. But the monk wasn't that stupid. No one was that stupid. If the monk saw the deck swarming with firebenders ready to fight, he would turn back.

But if Zuko did nothing, and the monk would land. There was no question about that. The monk would have no qualms about landing on a darkened, mostly sleeping ship to rescue his friend. But if Zuko wasn't prepared, if none of the other crewmen were ready to fight, the monk's chances of rescuing the waterbender and escaping into the night were higher than Zuko wanted to consider. He'd worked too long and too hard to lose the girl now.

The bison swept nearer until Zuko could make out its shape, and nearer yet, so he could see two tiny, dark figures on its back. The monk and the oaf. He wished he could be pleased with himself for guessing as much. When the ship's lights finally cast a faint glow over the creature's underside, the watchman swore under his breath.

"Well, that's—that's—"

"The Avatar," Zuko finished. It felt strange to call the monk that. In his mind, the girl was the Avatar, and she probably always would be.

He stared up into the sky as the bison flew closer, closer, closer. It was too late to wake the crew now. The monk was too close.

On an impulse, Zuko raised a hand level with his shoulder and summoned a flame, just bright enough to illuminate the observation deck. Soundless, the bison soared until it was close enough that Zuko could make out the faces of both the monk and the Water Tribe oaf. He let the flames brighten in a flash, and both boys looked down at Zuko. He stared at them, expressionless.

I'm watching, he thought, willing them to understand his meaning across the distance. Try anything and I won't hesitate.

The monk hauled the reins to the side, and the bison swerved on command, directly overhead, then off to the side and into the night.

Zuko watched until the bison was just a grayish speck over the horizon again before he exhaled and let the flame dissipate.

"What was that all about?" the watchman asked.

Zuko shook his head. He knew what they were after, he did, but something about it still felt surreal. The bison chasing his ship. He'd never thought that he'd see anything like it.

"No idea." He turned back toward the watchman. "Go and alert the control tower to keep an eye out for the bison. I'll keep watch until you're back."

The watchman nodded and bowed, then disappeared up the steps to the control tower.

Letting out a long breath, Zuko turned the telescope toward the place where the bison had disappeared. He wouldn't get any sleep tonight. Not with the Avatar's friends on the hunt for his ship.


Pacing was boring. Especially in a cell this size—she could only go a few steps before she had to turn, and after a few trips up and down the length of the cell, she started to feel a bit dizzy from the near-circular path.

But pacing was also useful. It kept her from falling asleep, for one thing. And it annoyed the man who'd been assigned to guard her. At first, that hadn't seemed like much of a benefit. An annoyed firebender was a dangerous firebender, and the last thing she needed was an angry firebender guarding her—but after a few trips across the cell with little more than grumbling from Masao, Katara realized that she had one advantage over the man. He was under Zuko's orders. And apparently Zuko's orders said that she was not to be harmed.

So she paced, up and down the cell, over and over again. When Masao began to look drowsy, she let her hand slap against each of the bars as she passed, then when he looked awake and ready to explode, she resumed her pacing in silence.

"For the love of everything good in the world, go to sleep. It's nearly daybreak. You've proved your point."

Katara paced toward the bunk end of the cell, then back toward the little curtained bathroom. "I don't think I have." Her hand rattled across a few of the bars. "If I had, you would have let me go."

A loud, prolonged groan echoed through the corridor, and the firebender leaned forward in his chair, rubbing his wrinkled forehead. "I'd happily toss you overboard."

She pursed her lips. Though the sky was beginning to lighten through the porthole, she still couldn't make out much of the outside world. But she was fairly certain that they were too far from land by now for swimming to be any use. And she wasn't convinced that she was a strong enough waterbender to make it back to shore that way either.

But the firebender didn't need to know that. "Somehow I doubt that throwing a waterbender in water would be quite the solution you're hoping for," she snipped. Whether she could make it to shore on her own power or not, getting off the ship would be better than nothing. And if she couldn't bend her way back to shore, at least she could probably cause the ship some pretty severe damage.

Still more grumbling, but this time, Masao didn't try to argue with her. Good. She didn't need to argue with a firebender. They didn't deserve that kind of effort.

She suppressed a yawn as she kept up her pacing. To the bathroom curtain and back again. Of all the things she'd expected to find aboard Zuko's ship, boredom wasn't one of them. Fear, she'd expected. Terror, torture—any of that seemed likely. But not endless, monotonous drudgery.

A bell rang somewhere above deck, and Masao straightened in his chair, only to slump backward again. "There goes night shift. Hope you're happy, waterbender. You cost me a whole night's sleep."

She smirked. She was fairly happy about that. There wasn't much that she could do while she was locked up, but keeping a guard awake all night long would suffice for now.

A few minutes filled up with more pacing, then the doors at the top of the stairs opened. Katara retreated instinctively away from the bars as the footsteps approached. There was the fear. She should have known it wasn't far off.

The young-ish man she vaguely remembered from yesterday came into view, a tray balanced on each hand.

"Ugggghh. Breakfast? You're killing me, Taro."

Taro shrugged. "Unless you'd rather go hungry—"

Masao shook his head and grudgingly took one of the trays. "Thought you were here to relieve me."

Another shrug. "I haven't heard any new orders from Prince Zuko. You'll have to wait until he changes his mind or Lieutenant Jee rearranges the duty rosters himself." Taro looked toward Katara. "Morning."

She frowned and backed up until her back collided with the damp steel hull.

"Morning," Masao scoffed. "Hardly counts as morning if there wasn't sleep before it." He balanced the tray on his lap. "I bet that other tray'll go to waste too."

Taro looked down and nudged the untouched tray with the curled toe of his boot. "She didn't eat any of it?"

"Didn't eat, didn't sleep," Masao answered through a mouthful of his breakfast. "Made a real nuisance of herself, just pacing all night long."

Katara bristled. "You know I can hear you."

"And you're a real nuisance." Masao jabbed his chopsticks in her direction. "Don't know what Prince Zuko's hoping to accomplish, keeping a waterbender caged up, but—"

Before Katara could respond, Taro whacked the older man on the back of the head. "You're a real nuisance, you old mule-hog." Kicking the old tray aside, he put the fresh one down in its place. "I don't know what he's getting at either, but General Iroh seems to think it makes sense." He fixed Katara with a look and pointed down at the tray. "Masao did tell you that the food was for you, didn't he?"

"Watch yourself, Taro," Masao growled. "Or I won't be any help the next time you annoy His Royal Moodiness."

Katara crossed her arms. "I know it's meant for me, but why is Zuko sending me food?"

"Because—" Taro said slowly, enunciating each syllable carefully, "Last I checked, everyone needs to eat." He shook his head like it should have been the most obvious thing in the world.

With anyone who wasn't a firebender, it would have been. Here on this ship, it was anything but. Thoughts of poison and that weird paralytic venom flashed through her mind. No thanks. A little bit of hunger, just until she escaped, however long that took, would be infinitely preferable to whatever kind of nasty tricks they were trying to play on her.

Taro turned away, and Masao yelled after him—something about getting Zuko to send down a replacement guard, but Katara wasn't really listening. If she wanted to escape before they managed to do something worse than lock her away, she had to try something else.

She perched on the edge of the bunk for just a second. She had to get out of here. She was missing something. Something obvious. Her back was a bit damp from leaning against the wall, and—

That. That was it.

She swiped her hand across the wall, and it came back glistening. Heart racing, she stared at it. Maybe it wouldn't get her out, but it was better than nothing.

Pushing herself back up, she took her stance.


Yawning, Zuko rubbed his forehead and slumped down onto his bunk. He hadn't slept all night long, too busy keeping an eye out for the monk and his bison to rest. He couldn't risk losing the Avat—waterbender—just to get a little sleep.

But the day shift was in full force now, and while Zuko didn't necessarily trust them to hold off the monk if he made a rescue attempt, they'd at least see the bison coming. So long as they kept watch, Zuko could sleep. Maybe he'd make a habit of this. Keeping watch through the night and sleeping during the day would be better than the alternative. If he could choose between irregular sleep and the chance that some harebrained rescue scheme could actually succeed, Zuko would forgo sleep.

At least at night. He could handle spending his nights awake if he could sleep for part of the day.

He very nearly succeeded. Even with the power of the rising sun coursing through his veins, even with the usual daytime noise and bustle outside his door—or maybe because of it—his thoughts quieted, and he felt himself beginning to drift.

And then, just before he managed to descend into soft, easy oblivion, the distress alarm sounded in the corridor.

Zuko shot upright and out of his bunk so quickly that his leg rammed against a trunk. The pain hardly registered, and not bothering with a light, he dressed as fast as he could.

By the time he burst out of his cabin, eyes dazzled by the comparative brightness, the activity and noise had grown considerably, and the alarm still blared. Zuko grabbed a passing crewman by the shoulder.

"What happened? What's going on?" he demanded.

The man turned back, wide-eyed. "The girl! It's—she's—she's waterbending."

Zuko's heart skipped a beat, then he shoved the man aside and launched himself across the hall and down the steps.

A crowd had begun to gather outside her cell, and Zuko elbowed his way to the front. The alarm still blared, and the men shouted back and forth to one another over the din. It was enough to make his head pound and his eyes twitch, but he kept pushing his way forward until he could finally see into the cell.

Zuko stopped short. The girl was waterbending, all right. She stood with her back to her bunk, slowly, methodically working her way through a series of forms. And when he squinted, he could tell that she'd somehow managed to find water to work with. Less than half a teacup worth of water.

Sometimes he really wondered where Uncle had found these idiots that he called a crew. It was a wonder they'd ever made it into the military in the first place, to say nothing of surviving long enough to be demoted into Zuko's service.

Reaching back, Zuko yanked the lever to stop the alarm, and in the same breath, he bellowed, "What is going on here?"

The men went silent, but the waterbender whirled on the spot.

"You!" Then, with an incoherent yell of rage, she formed her tiny supply of water into a jagged disk and hurled it between the bars.

Zuko didn't so much as blink. He met her attack with a shield of flame just strong enough to fizzle her water into nothing.

"That's it?" He looked around to the men on either side of him. "That was a big enough problem that you had to set off the alarms?"

Several of the men shifted sheepishly.

The Av—waterbender flung herself against the bars and swiped an arm at Zuko. He took a step back. He didn't need another face full of her fist.

"Let me go, Zuko!"

He started. It was strange to hear his name spoken so casually, and by her of all people.

She wound up again, drawing a fine mist from the condensation on the hull. "Take me back to my friends, or I'll—"

"What?" he snapped. "What are you going to do with that, rust your way out?"

The waterbender didn't hesitate. "Maybe I will!"

Zuko spluttered, feeling his face heat. "That—that doesn't make sense!"

The mist sharpened and formed into another murky globe of water, this one even smaller than the last. "Does it look like I care?" she shot back.

She did not. She looked a bit like she could tear the ship apart with her bare hands if she wanted too. But she couldn't. That was one thing Zuko was very, very certain about.

He shook his head. This was why he hadn't wanted to come down here. Or one of the reasons. He didn't need to get caught up in yelling matches with her. Yelling back and forth with her brother on Crescent Island had been bad enough. The girl was less deliberately infuriating and more—focused. He'd gotten a glimpse of that back at Makapu, and he didn't want to deal with her directness when he didn't have a mask to hide behind. Besides, Zuko didn't have time for this, not when the monk was still roaming free.

"Back to work, all of you," he shouted to the men. "The waterbender isn't here for your entertainment."

A chorus of grumbles broke out, but slowly the men straggled off, one-by-one, down the corridor in both directions.

Zuko let out a small breath, then turned in place until he found Masao. "And you," he added. "You sounded the alarm. You're off guard duty. Daiki will take your place."

From halfway down the hall, Daiki groaned, and Masao looked uncharacteristically pleased.

Zuko's scowl deepened. "You will spend the rest of the day shift on your regular duties, and Daiki will stay on guard through the night shift. I haven't forgotten that you both ignored my orders yesterday."

Neither man had time to answer before Zuko spun back toward his cabin. "I don't want to hear the alarms again unless it's something worth my concern, understood? I'm going back to bed."

He was halfway down the corridor before he heard the waterbender's voice again— "Does he really sleep in the middle of the day?" –but he didn't turn back. Instead he stomped up the stairs so loudly that he could hear the echo bounce clear down to the end of the corridor, and slammed the door shut with all the force he could muster.


Author's Note:

Zuko hiding his awkwardness under layers and layers of grumpiness? Katara being righteously and rightfully angry? Both of them taking the other off guard? This is my happy place!

I keep forgetting what I can and can't talk about in these notes because I'm working on like... three future chapters simultaneously? I think it's three? I don't even know what's happening anymore. So I guess I'll save myself the headache and leave the chapter commentary there.

Moving forward, I'm going to make a slight adjustment to my posting schedule. By which I mean that I'm actually going to start following one (at least temporarily) instead of tossing up a chapter every Sunday when I happen to have something done. So! For the forseeable future, I'm going to be switching to updates every two weeks, still on Sundays. This part of the story is LONG and has a lot of lines that carry through from chapter to chapter, so I kind of need to work ahead to avoid continuity headaches. Posting in small spurts of weekly updates isn't ideal for this section, so hopefully switching to a slower, more consistent schedule will help. We'll see how it works. Maybe I'll build such a big head start that I need to go back to weekly updates. That would be cool.

In the meantime, reviews are always very much appreciated! You can visit my Tumblr (soopersara) if you're interested, and I'll see you back here on September 27 for Chapter 24!