Water

The Fire Nation Ship: Part 3

Though birds sang overhead, and wind whistled through the branches, it was too quiet. Camp was supposed to be full of activity and noise, so much of it that camp felt like a village all its own.

Instead, there was nothing. As much as Sokka chafed at Aang's attempts at cheerful conversation, he wished that there was something—anything—else to break through the stillness and drown out his thoughts.

They'd managed to track down the Fire Nation ship sometime in the night, and for a second, Sokka had thought that they'd done it. That they could land aboard the mostly sleeping ship, grab Katara, and be gone again before anyone knew what had happened. It had worked at the prison rig—or it would have worked if Katara hadn't gotten it in her head that she had to save everyone. It should have worked this time. There would be no one for Katara to save on Zuko's ship.

But when they'd gotten close enough to see, there had been no sign of Katara, and Zuko stood on an observation platform, half-illuminated by a hovering flame, silently watching their approach.

They couldn't risk landing, not with Zuko watching them, and the other figure on the observation platform, and the control tower lit up bright as day. The ship was small enough that there was no alternate angle to make their approach, no place they could land without being spotted. It was too late to let Appa drop to the surface of the sea and approach from below, and even if they had made it on board, what were they supposed to do next? Katara was probably locked up somewhere below deck, somewhere Zuko could be sure that she could neither escape nor be rescued. How could Sokka possibly find her without the firebenders finding him first?

Staying would have been suicide, Sokka knew that. That didn't make him feel any better about turning back once Zuko had seen them. Sokka had to step back and think, to find a way to get the firebenders out of the way so he could get Katara out safely. He knew that. But that was his sister in the Fire Nation's slimy clutches.

Sokka should have been able to stop this. They never should have been able to take her away.

He scowled downward as he lugged the pot of water up the hill toward camp. Maybe they should go back to find Bato. He'd help Sokka come up with a plan, and he'd be willing to fight too. Or maybe—

Aang dropped out of the air and thumped into the middle of the path. With a screech, Sokka jerked backward, spilling a few inches of icy water down his leg.

"You—what—you—"

"I didn't mean to scare you." Aang sounded sheepish.

Sokka stomped past and thumped the pot of water down beside the stones circling the campfire. "Yeah, dropping straight out of the sky and almost squashing people is definitely the right way to go, then."

"I wasn't in the sky. I was in a tree." Aang held the hem of his tunic up like a pouch, and he lowered his hands just enough for Sokka to get a peek inside. "See? I found us some berries."

The berries were small and splotchy, all different shades of green and red. Sokka wrinkled his nose as he wriggled out of his wet boot. "Are you sure those are good to eat?"

Aang shrugged, then popped one into his mouth. After a moment of thoughtful chewing, he made a face. "They're really sour."

Sokka's mouth opened and closed a few times. That was not what he meant. Poison was what he was worried about. Especially after what that weird mole thing had done to him and Katara. Berries could be poisonous too, couldn't they? But Aang didn't look concerned, and it was too late to stop him now. Maybe he would be fine. He looked okay for now. Hopefully he'd stay that way.

"Just—just finish unpacking, would you?" Sokka peeled off his soggy sock and shook some of the moisture out of it. "I'm going to try to cook us some supper."

Aang gave him a long, skeptical look.

Rude. Sokka could cook. Probably. He crossed his arms and planted his bare, damp foot on the ground. "I'm going to."

With a shrug, Aang spilled his berries into a little mound on a flat-topped stone and leapt up into the saddle.

Some supportive friend he was. The fact that Sokka had never cooked anything but meat didn't mean that he couldn't cook anything else.

He balanced the pot over the flames and dumped in a portion of rice. That seemed right. He couldn't remember exactly how Katara did it, but he remembered that it involved a fire, a pot, water, and rice. How hard could it be? There were only so many ways those four things could go together.

Crouching beside the campfire as he stirred, he stared off into the trees. Maybe they should meet up with Dad's fleet. They'd left the map behind with Bato, but Sokka was fairly certain that he could find the fleet anyway. Between all of Dad's men and ships, they should have more than enough force to bring down Zuko's rinky, battered ship. And Zuko hadn't seemed particularly friendly with the other Fire Nation soldiers they'd encountered at Crescent Island, so it seemed unlikely that he would be able to count on reinforcements. Dad could take down one ship, easy. And Dad would drop everything else to help rescue Katara. That wasn't even a question. Family was most important.

But if they went to Dad, Sokka would have to explain everything. Everything. Meeting Aang, the extent of Katara's powers, all the crazy things they'd seen and done since they'd left home. And Zuko. Sokka would have to explain Zuko. How he'd chased them all the way from the South Pole, coming closer and closer with every encounter, until he finally took Katara away. Sokka would have to explain how he'd known about Zuko all along and still failed to stop him.

Dad wouldn't blame Sokka for that. Logically, there was nothing more Sokka could have done, and Dad would understand that. Bato hadn't been able to protect them either. That didn't make Sokka feel any better about it. It certainly didn't make him feel better about the prospect of explaining it. No, he'd be quite happy if he never had to talk about this. Dad wouldn't be angry, but Sokka was more than upset enough with himself to make up the difference.

No, for now, Dad would be a last resort. Zuko's ship was heading vaguely northwest anyway, and Dad's fleet was farther east. By the time they made it to the fleet, they would be at least two days away from Katara. He couldn't waste that much time, not when there was a chance that he could rescue Katara himself and then go to meet Dad. That sounded a lot better to Sokka. He would much prefer to have heroic stories to tell Dad when they finally met again.

"That's the wrong pot," Aang said matter-of-factly, hanging over the edge of the saddle, Momo perched on top of his head like a hat.

Sokka snapped back to reality and glared at him. "What?"

"That's not the pot Katara uses when she cooks rice."

Sokka stared. "And?"

Aang swung down to the ground. "And what?"

"And are you going to tell me which one is the right pot?"

"Oh!" Aang crouched to toss a berry into his mouth and surveyed the mound of cooking supplies. "Maybe this one? Or the one with the big handles?"

Irritation bubbled up in the pit of his stomach. "So you don't actually know?"

"I know that's not the one Katara uses."

"So?" Sokka shot to his feet. "So what? My way is wrong just because it's different than Katara's?"

Aang's brows furrowed. "I didn't say—"

"You may as well have."

For a moment, Aang stood very, very still. Even Momo was quiet, his giant ears flattened back against his sides. Then, "We're going to find her, Sokka."

Sokka kicked a stick out of the way with his single booted foot. "That's not the problem. We already found her." He rubbed the side of his face. "How are we supposed to get her off that ship?"

"We'll figure something out." Aang's voice was bright, and he smiled, bouncing on the balls of his feet "You're really good at plans."

Sokka scoffed. He was good at plans. That didn't mean that he could come up with a plan for this. He couldn't take on a crazy Fire Nation prince singlehanded, especially when that crazy prince was on a warship surrounded by his own countrymen. He couldn't count on any plan involving waterbending when Katara was locked up and Aang had only practiced with her once. And he couldn't exactly toss Aang in Zuko's general direction and hope that airbending or spooky glowy stuff would be enough to break Katara free. That was too risky. If they crashed Zuko's ship, Katara might get hurt. If they swept the whole crew into the ocean, Katara might be left behind, trapped or hidden or both. And if they failed to rescue Katara, then—well, a lot of things could happen. A lot of very bad things.

But Sokka couldn't forget how desperately Zuko had tried to capture Aang. That, it seemed to him, was the biggest risk. No matter how they tried to rescue Katara, there was a chance that one of them could get caught. If it was Sokka—well, that would suck, but Zuko didn't really have a use for Sokka. If he was lucky, Zuko would put him close to Katara and they could work out an escape plan together. If he wasn't as lucky, Zuko would set him loose on a raft and he'd still be okay. But if Aang got captured—it didn't bear thinking about. Their situation was impossible enough already.

"Um, Sokka? Are you sure that's the right way to make rice?"

Sokka groaned. "Not this again."

"No, really." Aang wrinkled his nose. "It looks so weird."

Giving in, Sokka finally looked back at the fire. Oh. Aang was right. His pot of half-cooked rice looked really weird.


It was a good thing that Katara had spent so much time studying her waterbending scroll while she still had the chance. She'd memorized nearly all of the illustrations, many, many more than she'd actually had the time to practice and master. That meant that she had plenty to work on, plenty of ways to keep her mind and her hands occupied. If she was going to keep herself awake, she needed all the distractions she could find.

After Zuko stomped away, Katara had gathered up every droplet of water she could find from the hull, the rusty seams in the ceiling, the porthole, and the faint, fading splashes left behind from when Zuko broke her attack. Altogether, it was less water than she could hold cupped between her hands, but she'd practiced with less. Well, not less. But when she'd practiced on Appa's saddle, she hadn't had much water to work with. It was close. She should be able to make this work.

Under the hard, mistrustful watch of her new guard—it should have been impossible, but Daiki seemed even grumpier than Masao—she returned to the beginning of her sequence again. It was difficult. With so little water at her disposal, she couldn't form the towering waves that she'd worked so hard to perfect, nor the thick, ropelike tendrils of water she'd just been learning to control a few days ago. What she could do was improve her aim, her precision, the force she could channel into a few small drops. So she did. She practiced her forms in miniature until her water began to shrink, then finally disappeared entirely around midday.

She could have stopped to rest. Anywhere else, she probably would have. There was no more water to draw from the walls—the moisture couldn't settle on the steel walls once they were warmed under the heat of the sun—and her muscles were beginning to tire. Stopping would make sense. Resting would make sense. Except for the fact that she was stuck on a Fire Nation ship, and she couldn't trust these people long enough to close her eyes, much less to sleep. Moving made it easier to keep her eyes from closing.

Moving made it easier to ignore the suspicious trays of food outside the cell too. A little after noon, a firebender she didn't recognize—tall and severe, with steel gray hair—brought down a fresh tray for lunch and took away the old one. Then when the sky began to darken again, the fat old general took his turn. He lingered outside the cell for a few minutes, alternating between chatting with the guard and trying to engage Katara in conversation. She ignored him. She knew better than to trust his friendly old man act. He was Zuko's uncle. Friendly or not, he had to be just as bad as Zuko. If she talked to him, he'd try to convince her to eat, and if she ate, something much, much worse could happen to her.

So she didn't stop. Even when her water was gone, she worked through her forms over and over, arms swooping through broad, powerful arcs, drilling every movement until she achieved precision in every shift of her hands. If she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine herself by the banks of a river, commanding its entire width with a flick of her wrist. She could almost imagine Sokka straying too close to the river and complaining when a few drops escaped her control and ran down the back of his neck.

Soon. She'd be out of here soon, then she'd find them again, and then—

Her head spun a little and she blinked until her vision came back into focus. It was dark outside the porthole again, and she couldn't tell how far the night had progressed without her noticing. How long had it been since she last slept? Two days? She hadn't eaten in nearly as long, and she didn't dare drink anything the firebenders brought with the meals either. No wonder her head was beginning to ache along with her limbs.

She set her jaw and felt along the hull with her bending, searching for any more drops of moisture that might have gathered there. Nothing yet. It was probably still too early, too warm for the condensation to settle. It wouldn't be much—probably not enough—but once she managed to gather a bit more moisture, she'd at least have something to drink. The firebenders couldn't poison the moisture in the air or the condensation on their walls. Even they weren't that sly.

In the meantime, she leaned back against the bunk just long enough to catch her breath, then straightened again. Her arms felt heavy, and her muscles all ached, but she couldn't stop. If she stopped, she would sleep. If she slept, she didn't know what would happen to her.


The second night was easier. More monotonous, but easier.

He felt prepared, that probably helped. Much to the annoyance of the crew, he'd increased the night watch, given strict orders to keep the girl well-guarded, and ordered them all to keep on alert for the airbender's possible approach. As far as Zuko was concerned, they didn't have any right or reason to complain. He'd brought his own telescope out to the observation deck to keep an extra watch on the sky and stayed up through the night too. If he could do it, so could they.

All through the night, Zuko scanned the sky. He almost felt confident this time. Between the extra crew and his own place on the observation deck, Zuko was almost certain that he could catch the monk should he appear again.

The monk didn't appear. After all his preparations, Zuko couldn't decide whether he should be relieved or annoyed by that.

But when the sky finally began to lighten, he was a bit less worn out than he had been the morning before. Zuko chose to take that as a sign that he was finally, finally, doing things right.

A light set of footsteps ascended the stairs behind him. "Would you care to join me for mediation this morning, Prince Zuko?"

Ordinarily, Zuko would have refused. Meditation was dull at the best of times. Meditation with Uncle was pure, agonizing tedium. Uncle could never just meditate. Uncle would meditate, then insist on a long, elaborate sequence of stretches and breathing exercises, and pepper lengthy, confusing anecdotes and proverbs throughout the whole process. Zuko could tell that he was meant to learn something from all of the ramblings, but he had never come away from one of those meditation sessions with anything more than a headache and a sour mood.

He stooped to pack his telescope away and was about to refuse when Uncle stepped closer, clasping his hands over his great, round stomach.

"I have been thinking," Uncle began, voice grave, "that it may be time that your training advanced."

Zuko nearly lost his balance. "You have?"

Uncle made a small hmpf and gave Zuko a stern look. He seemed to be doing that a lot recently. "Perhaps. I will make my decision once you have demonstrated your basics." Turning toward the steps, he added, "Prepare for meditation and I will meet you on the lower deck."

In an instant, any tiredness that Zuko felt drained away, and an invisible weight lifted from his shoulders. Finally. Finally things were beginning to turn around. Finally something was going right. With more advanced firebending, fighting would be easier, keeping out of Zhao's reach would be easier, thwarting attempts at escape and rescue would be easier. With more advanced firebending, he might actually have a chance when he met the monk again. And when he finally succeeded and returned home, maybe—maybe Father wouldn't feel quite so ashamed of him.

Zuko shook his head. No, that was too optimistic. But for now, improving his bending enough to get home would be a decent start.

He took the stairs down to his cabin two at a time and changed into his training clothes in a rush, then burst back out onto the deck. He hadn't felt anything quite this close to optimism in—he wasn't sure he could remember that far back. Years, probably. At least since his banishment. Maybe longer.

Uncle met him with a long, stern gaze, then a curt nod of approval. Good. So long as Uncle wasn't too disappointed, everything should be fine. He should have his chance to learn.

For what felt like a long time, Zuko sat alongside Uncle in silence, meditating in the first watery rays of sunlight. He followed along when Uncle turned to breathing exercises instead, then half-listened to the old man's story about the seabird and its shiny rocks, nodding as if he understood. He didn't. Uncle may as well have been speaking another language for all the sense he made to Zuko. But it would be worthwhile. Eventually. If Zuko could just humor Uncle and sit through a few more minutes of nonsense, he would finally get the training he'd been waiting so long for.

Just when he began to think that Uncle had reached the end of his stretching regimen, the bell rang for the start of morning shift.

Uncle perked up. "You don't mind, Prince Zuko? I just have a bit of business with one of the night crew. It won't take a minute."

Zuko did mind. He minded very much. But Uncle was gone before he could object, off to the door to greet the night crew as they spilled out from their stations and began filing down toward the galley.

With a huff, Zuko crossed his arms. He almost wished that he was surprised. The old man was faster than he looked, but only when it suited him. Slowly, Zuko inhaled, the sun's power filling him up. Patience. Uncle was always going on about that. Maybe this was a test to make sure Zuko had enough patience before his training really began. It wouldn't be the first time Uncle's methods had taken a turn for the ridiculous.

Uncle greeted and chatted with every crewman who passed, but kept craning from side to side, squinting down the corridor as though he were waiting for someone. At long last, though, the stream of people ran dry and Uncle lingered a few long seconds before turning back toward Zuko.

"Are you done?" Zuko asked, voice sharp. "Did you finish with your 'business'?"

"Hmm." Uncle looked back over his shoulder before meandering his way across the deck again. "Has Daiki been relieved from guard duty?"

Zuko suppressed a groan. "Yes, Uncle. I sent Masao back down."

Uncle made a thoughtful noise, looking a little too hard, a little too piercingly into Zuko's eyes.

He threw his arms out to the sides. "What? What did I do wrong this time? Masao is on day shift, so he'll spend the day guarding the girl's cell. I'll find someone else for the night shift."

Uncle shook his head. "I didn't say that you had done anything wrong, Prince Zuko." There was a pause, and Zuko could sense the word 'but' long before it came. "But Daiki and Masao seem less than suited to guarding our young waterbending guest."

"For the last time," Zuko said through clenched teeth as he followed Uncle's lead through another stretch, "she's a prisoner, not a guest."

"Ah. Of course."

There was that maddeningly calm tone that Uncle always liked to use when he thought Zuko was being unreasonable. Which was ridiculous. Zuko was perfectly reasonable.

Keeping his eyes fixed on the door, Uncle stretched one shoulder, then the other. "Have you happened by the waterbender's cell recently?"

"Not since the alarms yesterday morning."

"Perhaps you should—"

Zuko gave Uncle his most fearsome glare. "I don't need to go visit the waterbender, Uncle."

Uncle narrowed his eyes in response, but at long last, he seemed to have reached the end of his stretching. He motioned for Zuko to take his stance, then glanced toward the door one more time and brightened.

"Daiki!" Uncle trotted off again, and this time, Zuko couldn't suppress his groan.

Maybe he'd been wrong before. Maybe Uncle could keep gossiping and putting off his training forever.

"How was guard duty?"

Daiki gave a grunt, half hunched over his tray of food as he tried to make his way around Uncle and back toward the crewmen's quarters.

With a quick sidestep, Uncle blocked his path again. "Has there been any change with the young waterbender?"

This time, Daiki looked up, practically growling. "Not a bit."

Zuko looked at Uncle, then at Daiki, then back at Uncle again. "What are you talking about?"

"Your waterbender," Daiki snapped. "She's been at it all night. All day before that too. Didn't sit down for more than a minute."

Uncle looked at Zuko expectantly.

Zuko stared back. What? What was that supposed to mean? So the girl had been standing all night—that was weird, but he'd watched her do weirder things. She'd jumped off a bridge right in front of him in the dead of night. Was he supposed to think it was odd that she was still acting strangely?

Uncle stared a moment longer, then heaved a sigh and stepped out of Daiki's path. The sailor took his chance and dashed away, his shoulders still hunched over to protect his meal.

"Finally." Zuko eased back into his stance and exhaled slowly, releasing a few sparks. "Can we start now? Are you done gossiping?"

"An oyster can hold a pearl for its whole life, but when a fisherman finds a pearl, he must exercise caution so as not to lose it."

For a beat, Zuko only gaped. Fishermen and pearls? The part of training that included proverbs was meant to be over by now. "Uncle, please. Can you forget the proverbs just this once?"

Uncle huffed and squashed his face into an almost toad-like look of disappointment. "Prince Zuko," he began, his tone clipped. "You must see to the waterbender. It is your responsibility to know these things."

What things? Zuko wanted to ask. He had no intention of constantly checking up on her, if that was what Uncle meant. Nor was he going to sit down with the girl and have long, meaningful conversations. He had more important things to do with his time than hover outside her cell and listen while she yelled herself hoarse.

"Why?" he asked. "She's not going anywhere. All I have to do is make sure she can't escape until I can capture the airb—Avatar—and get them back home to the Fire Nation."

Uncle's brows hardened into an even more severe expression. "There is more than one way out of captivity, Prince Zuko. If you are not careful, the waterbender will find other means of escape." Then, not giving Zuko a chance to speak, Uncle turned away.

Oh, no. He wasn't getting away with his usual cryptic nonsense that easily.

"Uncle! What are you talking about? And where are you going? You said you were going to train me."

Uncle looked back over his shoulder for just a second. "Perhaps later."

"But—"

At the door, Uncle stopped, turning back to face Zuko. "See to the waterbender." It sounded almost like an order. "Speak to Masao and Daiki. Once you have done that, Prince Zuko, decide where your priorities lie." With that, Uncle disappeared into the dark of the corridor.


Author's Note:

Iroh has this being as vague and unhelpful as humanly possible thing nailed, doesn't he?

Gaah, waiting to post every two weeks feels like such a long time, but it's going to be worth it, I promise. I just have to pretend that I have self control until the end of the year or until I finish writing this whole... thing on Zuko's ship, whichever comes first, then I'll go back to batches of weekly updates. Until then, I just have to say that I'm SO, SO excited for everything that's coming up! I finally have a bit of a head start on this, and I'm going to take full advantage of that to make everything as good as humanly possible.

Thank you for reading! Reviews are always appreciated, and feel free to visit my Tumblr (soopersara)!