The Fire Nation is smaller than one might imagine, considering the amount of power they hold. Perhaps that's why they started this war in the first place - they were overcompensating.
It's the first joke that Sokka has made since the Crystal Catacombs. He tells it to Toph when they reach the Fire Nation capital, the journey taking far less time than either of them expected, and they both smile for a moment. There's no laughter, no humoured groans, no rolling of the eyes from Toph, but it's a start - maybe that's all they need, heading into the heart of enemy territory.
He didn't quite believe the map's illustration of the capital being inside a giant volcano, but as they approach, he finds that the map was exactly right; the location seems both suitably dramatic and intimidating, and the capital's inside matches, with a bronze statue of Firelord Ozai, bursting with muscles and spitting streams of fire, towering in its centre. The map also has two prisons illustrated on it - Iron Hill Correctional Centre, located on the outskirts of the capital and, unsurprisingly, atop a small hill, and the more simply named Capital City Prison, which is near the Royal Palace. He and Toph have already discussed their course of action - they will go to Iron Hill first, with it being the smaller and presumably lower security prison, in the hopes that the Fire Nation don't see Katara as a major threat; if they don't find her there, then they will need to continue their search in the Capital City Prison. Sokka can only guess that the latter is reserved for the prisoners that are deemed the most dangerous - and the ones that the Firelord wants to keep a close eye on - and Katara, being a friend and mentor of the Avatar, could be one of those people. Yet, the Fire Nation could just as easily have seen her as an inconsequential peasant and have thrown her wherever would keep her out of the way; Iron Hill seems like it would suffice.
When he and Toph had discussed it, he had talked through the logic of going to Iron Hill first because the Capital City Prison would likely be much more hassle to visit, and getting so close to the Royal Palace is so unwise that it would be unthinkable, were they not looking for Katara. Now, with nerves writhing in his stomach as he lands Appa in a cave on the outskirts of the Capital, Sokka admits to himself that rationality had never really been behind his decision - instead, it had been hope, something his sister was always so good at. Is, he corrects himself. More specifically, the hope that Katara is unimportant enough to be left alone, to sit in a cell undisturbed; because if the Fire Nation thinks she is useful and puts her in the Capital City Prison accordingly, Sokka is certain that they will not keep her there unscathed.
He refuses to think about what exactly that may entail. Yet, the memory of what he used to say when he wanted to work Katara up keeps replaying in his head - that hope was just another way of saying that you couldn't face facts. He'd never really believed it - it was just a surefire way of pissing his sister off - but now, he wonders if he was right all along. Because the fact is, Katara wouldn't have been taken unless Zuko and Azula had some kind of use for her, and whatever that use was, it was unlikely that they aren't trying to capitalise on it now within the walls of the Capital's main prison.
Still, another fact that Sokka knows to be true is that his sister would be both disheartened and incredibly angry if he decided to relinquish all hope in order to find her - and so, as he and Toph begin making their way towards Iron Hill, he prays to Tui and La and Yue and every other spirit he can think of that she is there and safe and healthy. He hopes it's enough.
Ikuro continues inviting him to have dinner with the crew. He agrees every time, and always tries to make it sound like he's only doing it to please Ikuro. He isn't sure the older man falls for it.
He tries to ignore the truth - the truth that he doesn't agree because of Ikuro or the food or the attempt to keep an eye on his crew, but because he misses his nation, and because he feels lonely.
No, he doesn't feel lonely; he feels alone. There's a difference, he thinks, when he allows himself to think about it. When he was on his old ship, on his old mission from what feels like decades ago, he told himself that he wasn't lonely, but that he was doing things alone. There was a strength to it, a power, a superiority. Now, he decides the difference between the words is less sharp - being lonely is when you can't reach out, when you're stuck inside yourself; being alone is when there's no one to reach out to.
Maybe there is. Maybe there's Ikuro, but sometimes the way he speaks reminds Zuko far too much of his Uncle and that's caused a quiet resentment to settle within him, the type that makes him push Ikuro away if he tries being too kind to him. Maybe the difference between being lonely and alone doesn't matter, because either way, they make him weak; weak enough to throw any resentment and any sense of pride away just to be near other people, sitting around a table with them as if he is included.
He knows he isn't; not really. He knows they only act nice to him because he's royalty, because he's witnessed it before - the slightly tight smiles, the nervous laughs. It's how so many people acted with Azula; how people still act with her now, if his time on the ship going to the Fire Nation was any indication. Even her friends, sometimes. He'd always rolled his eyes when it would happen, because it was so clear they were only talking with her out of some sort of obligation, some expectation of respect; part of him always felt jealous of it, though, as if it made her better royalty.
Now, he isn't sure what there ever was to be jealous about. There's something that stings in his chest when he can pick out a slight fakeness in their tone, when he can tell they feel awkward with him being there. He knows they'd have a much better time without him, and he knows they probably talk about him behind his back - about his mistakes, about his shamefulness, about his scar. He knows that there are rumours about it in the Fire Nation, some with him portrayed as far worse than he is, and some that he wishes were the truth. Perhaps Katara has told them all what really happened - she said she wouldn't, but he has no grounds to believe her other than some flimsy belief that she's good, or at least better than some. Maybe he's just being naive.
That sting in his chest sometimes makes him regret eating dinner with them, but it's always overpowered by other things, things that make him stay - because they talk about the Fire Nation in all its brightness and heat and beauty, with the same longing in their eyes that he has always felt. They talk about other things, too; stupid, trivial things that he shouldn't care about, but he does. They joke and tease and yell at eachother and it's not awkward, because they're not talking to him; he sits and listens and smiles sometimes, and he feels himself getting the tiniest bit lighter.
It's stupid, the way that just listening to them talk makes him feel less alone. It's even more stupid when he realises why he feels that way, and why the lightness goes away straight after the jokes and loudness die down.
He misses Uncle. He shouldn't, because Zuko's the one who abandoned him in Ba Sing Se, but he does - more than he misses the Fire Nation itself.
He tries not to think about it. He tells himself that missing people is a part of life, and that it doesn't mean he made the wrong choice in Ba Sing Se, but the hurt in his Uncle's eyes in the catacombs and the anger of his silence in his prison cell seem to argue with him. He resents Ikuro for giving him advice like his Uncle's, partly because he doesn't want the advice, doesn't want the doubt and the guilt that spring from it - but mostly because Ikuro isn't his Uncle, and any reminder of that just makes it hurt more.
He wants Uncle Iroh to hug him in the way he always used to complain about. He also wants to scream or cry or break something, because he knows it's never going to happen.
She develops a routine of sorts, over the next few weeks. She drinks tea with Ikuro in the mornings and chats to him until she gets restless, and then she waterbends, moving the tides to speed up the ship and practicing as many forms as she can. She used to only stick to simple moves that didn't look threatening, in fear of the crew going back on their decision to let her bend, but they haven't stopped her so far, and she enjoys the slight resignation that passes over Akemi's face whenever she does an impressive move too much to hold herself back. She eats lunch in her room and then watches Kazuo and Ikuro play Pai Sho until it gets dark; there isn't much else to do.
Her routine is how she doesn't go insane on a ship where there's barely anything to do. It's also terrible, because it makes her feel like this is life instead of imprisonment; like she could get used to this. So, every time she waterbends, she reminds herself of what she needs to do: get information about the Boiling Rock, think of some kind of escape plan that involves rescuing her father, and find Sokka and Toph. She runs through every possible scenario, every plan she can think of, in her room while she eats lunch and while she lays in bed, not yet ready to sleep. Yet, she knows that she needs to be patient; to wait for someone on the ship to trust her enough to tell her about the Boiling Rock.
She curses herself for not asking Zuko when she was still healing him; he seemed so guilty and apologetic most of the time that he may have just given her whatever information she wanted. She knows he probably wouldn't have - he's the one leading the entire mission, after all - but it could have been worth a try. Instead, she was so caught up in her anger that it didn't even cross her mind.
Now, she only really sees him when she eats dinner with the crew. She knows Ikuro is behind it, and while it made her angry to begin with, him being there gives her something to think about while the crew make jokes about Fire Nation things she's never heard of. She used to eat her dinner quietly and listen to their stories, joining in when they included her but feeling strange about doing so when they didn't; they were on opposite sides of the war, after all, and she was never quite sure what most of them thought of her. What interests her now is that Zuko does the same thing, sitting mostly quietly as if he doesn't want to intrude. She wants to think it's because he feels above them, but the way he smiles, slightly uncertain but humoured nonetheless, at their jokes makes it hard to believe.
She considers that it may all be a show to get her on his side, to get her to trust him again. Maybe he thinks she's an idiot for letting her guard down so easily in Ba Sing Se and for softening her anger towards him after finding out about his scar - maybe he thinks that he'll be able to deceive her if he doesn't falter, keeps up the facade for long enough. But it seems too natural for that; too constant, too innate - and what would be the point in putting so much effort? Is she really that important, for him to want her trust that badly? She is no longer a friend of the avatar - her avatar is dead, she reminds herself, the fact heavy in her throat. She can't give him any information about who he's looking for, and she can't be used as bait; all she is here for is to help navigate the Water Tribes, as if he needs her help after searching around the world for Aang.
So he's not doing it for her, she decides. She also knows that there's no reason to deceive the crew; he's in control of the mission, and by extension, them, and whether or not they like him doesn't change that. The only answer is that some part of him wants to be there, that his small smiles and his quietness are genuine - and she finds that every night, despite everything he's done and everything she's said, she leaves supper thinking of him as slightly more human.
She reminds herself that he still betrayed her and still stood by as Aang screamed in pain; that he is still on his way to kill a child just so his nation can spill more blood, gain more power. But she hates that she needs to remind herself. She hates that she can't quite place this teenager, this boy, so often guilt-ridden and so trained in acting like pain doesn't hurt, his quiet eyes longing for home, with all he has done, and all he is planning to do. She knows that the guilt he showed her means nothing when he is still leading this ship to the Water Tribes, and she knows that the terror in his eyes when he woke from his nightmare is not her problem, not when she is being held captive by the Fire Nation and not when his conscience allows him to continue on this mission.
It must hurt, though - being left out in the cold, unable to return home; forever wandering, forever lost. It must hurt to have a father like his.
She wishes he would shout. She wishes he would call her a peasant. She wishes he would burn something, burn someone. But he doesn't. He just sits, still and half-smiling and unsure, never challenging her except in his quietness.
She should spend dinnertime trying to plan her escape, not thinking about the Fire Prince. She finds that it's easier said than done.
Hi uh? Sorry for the very slow update! I was writing lots of poetry (I actually just got shortlisted for a poetry competition!) and writing a non-fanfic story but now I have lots more time to write this so I'll try to update more frequently now.
Sorry that not much happened in this story,, being on the ship is kinda uneventful at this point but I'm planning for the next chapters to have lots more stuff in them! Idk I've realised this story is quite slow-moving but I really don't want the character (esp. Zuko's) and relationship development to feel rushed. I think I'm gonna split the story into two books because I have A LOT planned lol... its gonna be veryyy slow burn. This chap is also as long as my others by it seems v short? I think because it's more about feelings but I needed an UPDATE on what was going through Zuko and Katara's heads while a few weeks on the ship passes
Zuko's part isn't v relevant to zutara and stuff but I was thinking about his character and his situation in this story and just... he must feel so lonely? Like being banished AGAIN and not having his uncle this time (his fault tho lol) and being in a ship surrounded by people who probably think he's a shameful traitor? Except Ikuro but that's a whole different thing that I'll go more into later. I also know that at this point in the show Zuko's VERY angry but I think we see that a lot more because he shows it to his uncle who he's always been able to show all his anger and angsty feelings to. I think in a ship full of strangers and Katara, he's keep his anger more to himself, especially as he recognises that he feels guilty towards Katara a lot more than he recognises his guilt to Iroh because I mean... Katara's friend is DEAD and he just stood by and let his sister kill him. Yikes
Anyway thanks for waiting so long for an update and for reading this chap! All likes and reviews are v appreciated!