Flesh and Bone

Disclaimer: I LIKE GRAPES. And I like A:TLA. That doesn't mean I own them.

Rating: T for some mild violence. And some French. (Pardon my French! …Y'all know I mean swearing)

Thank you all for your wonderful reviews. They mean a lot!

Densharr: Thank you! I'm glad that you like her. Haha I know right? Poor, oblivious Zuko.

AnimeBean: It's not so much that I lack ideas as that I want to pace things accordingly. Feel free to send me ideas anyway! I'd really love to hear em.

EagleCodex: Thank you. ^_^ And actually, no! I didn't even think of that until you mentioned it… which is funny because I've read Pendragon. When I thought of Boon I was thinking A. of king Bumi and B. of Boon from Lost.

Kist: Good question; I'm sorry I didn't explain this in the story. If he goes around telling one person he's Kuzon, and another he's Lee, and then someone else he's Prince, things are going to get complicated and he'll just look suspicious. He also already told Sashain he was going to go by Prince. So he hesitated.

Bridget Fist: The movie was awful. I didn't even see it and I know it sucked. xD Really? I'm not big on cursing, but I think it's helpful when I want to convey a certain mood/emotion. And thanks, I'm glad you enjoy it!

PushUpDaisies: Wow thanks, that means a lot to me. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Reviews = Happier writer. What do happy writers do? Write. Do you see how this works?

I hope the length makes up for the delay in updates. :)

When life gives you lemons… write fanfiction.

Needless to say, the prince had found himself in a troublesome position.

"Wait," he pleaded just as a few of them were beginning to shuffle towards the door he stood in front of. "Hold on…How do you know I'm really the prince?" he attempted and crossed his arms, trying to appear defiant and skeptical.

"You look like you're the right age, you have the same scar, and he has been missing for months: there are wanted posters of you…er…him everywhere," one replied. Zuko rolled his eyes and acted completely unconcerned, but inside fear raced through his veins.

"His wanted poster; His, gentlemen. Just because I have the same scar as the exiled prince does not make him me. Besides, didn't he say he was going to go help the Avatar?" he gestured and looked around to indicate the significant lack of the Avatar. "Do you see him around? Don't you think that if I were on his side, he'd be here to rescue me?"

"Maybe you haven't found him yet," another tried.

Zuko scoffed, "Prince Zuko spent three years following that kid around. Do you really think he'd lose his tracks so easily?" The men looked around at each other uneasily, shifting on their feet.

"Well you look enough like Zuko for me," one skinny man said hotly, and turned to head for the door.

"Is that really a good idea?" The prince asked smugly, his arms, once again, crossed over his chest. The man stopped mid-step.

"What are you talking about? When the sandbenders find out who you really are, they'll reward me and deliver you to Ozai!"

"You?" One of the other men exclaimed. "I'm going to turn him in!"

"No you're not! I am!" a third argued. Soon, it was an absolute free-for-all.

"Men, please," Zuko said, holding out his hands as if to quell them. "No one is going to turn anyone in; Want to know why?" Judging by their glares, no, but the firebender didn't stop to let them say so. "Because when the Fire Lord finds out that I'm not his son, who do you think he'll blame?" They all took a moment to process his statement. A minute smirk appeared on Zuko's lips at his clever dodge; however, inside he was still strung as tightly as a wire.

"It's not worth the Fire Lord's fury," one of the men muttered; he picked up a wooden club and walked back near the middle of the arena.

"I'd rather take my chances with the sandbenders," And so, one by one, they went back to their training. The tensions were gone. When all backs were turned to him, Zuko relaxed and let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. Too close.

"So what is your name?" Zuko started, surprised at the voice. His golden gaze whipped up to meet the hazel eyes of the older man from earlier; the one who had first spoken to the young firebender.

"Prince," he replied after a moment of indecision. Might as well stick with the nickname he'd given Sashain.

"That's not your real name, I hope," the man said with a raised eyebrow. Zuko shook his head.

"It's not. I've just taken to calling myself that. I've been mistaken as Prince Zuko more than once," he said with a grimace. The older man chuckled softly, and the firebender was reminded painfully of his uncle.

"I like you, kid. You're pretty smart." Zuko smiled weakly. He liked the old man, too. He knew he was going to need an ally in this and he wanted it to be this man. "And if you were wondering, my name's Shoji." He reached a thick, weathered hand forward. The prince took it with his own paler, wiry, and calloused one and shook it gently. After a moment the two released their grip. The prince watched as Shoji reached down and picked up a small handful of sand. He dusted it over his hands, as if it had been talc, and looked down at Zuko, his eyes shining.

"So, Prince, if your father didn't burn you in an Agni Kai, then where did you really get that scar?"

"I, had, uh," he struggled to come up with an answer and looked down to avoid Shoji's eyes. "Displeased some Fire Nation soldiers, and—" he was cut off by the sound of Shoji's chuckle.

"You don't have to tell me, boy," Zuko stared, taken aback by the man's frankness. Could Shoji actually know he was Prince Zuko? And why did he ask the question in the first place if he didn't want an answer? Maybe it was just to put him on edge. "I don't need to hear your life's story. In this place, we're all the same: Prisoners with a past that don't matter and a future of fighting and death. So pick up a weapon, and let's see if we can't extend your probably short life for a little longer." It was then that Zuko noticed Shoji holding a large wooden ax. Zuko decided it didn't matter if the man knew who he was or not. Shoji didn't seem like the type to turn him in, at least not for money.

"They give us weapons?" Zuko inquired suddenly as he looked around the arena. It seemed a bit odd to him: what if someone were to try to attack one of the guards? Or escape?

"Yeah…they do," Shoji replied as he rested the ax on his shoulder. He pointed to a cart that was mostly empty except for a few wooden objects left behind by the others. "It's so we have a better chance in the arena. It's more fun for them to watch us fight versus simply watching the armadillo-lions eat us up. They figure if the weapons are wooden we can't really do much harm to each other, but we get the experience necessary to make things interesting." Had Zuko not been so used to the military and hearing horror stories about things such as this then he would've felt sickened. Instead he was more determined.

"I heard they sometimes pit us against each other," he said as he looked at the other prisoners with sadness in his eyes. Some of them were stealing occasional glances at Shoji and the prince.

"Yes, sometimes." Shoji finished grimly.

"How long have you been here, Shoji?" Zuko wondered aloud.

"I'd say about two years,"

"Do most survive that long?"

Shoji's only answer was a forlorn shake of his head. No.

"Most don't even survive a month." Zuko grimaced and changed the subject.

"Are there any firebenders here?"

"A few," Shoji replied and the prince followed his gaze to look at the others who were still practicing. "They're practicing with their weapons right now though; see them over there?" he gestured towards an exceptionally clumsy group in the corner. Their form was so sloppy it made the scarred teen—as a military man and an experienced fighter—want to scream.

"They're terrible," he commented and Shoji agreed with disappointment.

"I just hope their firebending is better than their hand to hand."

"Don't worry, I'm sure it is. It's just…they practice firebending so much and spend so little time with blades and physical weaponry that they're not very well balanced." I'm at an advantage, then, thought Zuko. He could wield his daos and firebend with equal promise. "You a firebender, Prince?" Shoji asked after a moment. He took a moment to consider his answer. Should he let him know? Or should he keep it to himself and use as an advantage for later? After another moment of consideration he lifted his hand, snapped his fingers and let a small flame appear over the tips.

Shoji grunted. He didn't ask any further questions regarding the flame.

How come everyone but me gets a shirt and shoes? Zuko wondered suddenly. All the other men had on short sleeved tunics, bandages around their forearms and covered shoes on their feet… and here he was, standing out in the hot sun, the burn on his shoulders and neck turning lobsterpus red with rage. The prince began to wonder if Sashain was purposely trying to separate him from the other prisoners. As he thought this over, silence fell between him and the older man. For a time, neither of them spoke; they simply stared out at the other prisoners: The other men who shared their doomed fate.

"So, Prince, are we gonna practice or not?" Shoji asked finally, breaking the silence that had fallen.

"Not," the exiled prince replied as he looked over the man. He wasn't going to practice. He wasn't going to allow the other prisoners to see what he could do. What if he had to fight them? Zuko didn't want them to know what to expect; he refused to give them any advantages because if it came down to them versus him, there would be no room for pity. "Thank you, Shoji," he said, turned to the older man and bowed briefly before quickly crossing the dusty floor to a shaded corner of the courtyard. There he sat down and watched the rest of the group practice beneath hooded eyes.

"I believe that's the last of it," Boon said as he set down the final crate, satisfaction plastered onto his features. Katara walked up beside him, the handle of a wooden sled in her hands.

"Thanks a lot, Boon. It goes so much faster when I have help." She replied with a smile.

"Hey, I'm happy to be of assistance," he said with a grin. Katara reached behind her toward the sled—wheels were useless in the sand—and began to pull out a heavy, rectangular object when Boon intervened.

"I can get that," he told her. For a moment she considered brushing him off, but after a moment, she nodded and let go. "Just set it in a corner and unfold it, could you?" She asked before going to open some of the crates and arranging her supplies.

"Hey, Boon…" She said after a moment of silence.

"Yeah?" he replied between grunts as he struggled to open the folded cot.

"Do you know if the Bah'Kre tribe is here yet?"

"I didn't know you cared," he said as he continued to fiddle with the cot. "I mean, I thought you hated the games."

"I do," she replied with a scowl. "I was just…I don't know, wondering…" Boon immediately straightened and looked over at her.

"You're worried about Kuzon." It wasn't a question.

"Maybe," she replied, becoming defensive and continuing to unpack, refusing to meet his dark gaze. He was, after all, her only real friend in the situation. Boon was kind, but he had obligations to his tribe. She still didn't entirely trust Zuko, but considering what they were going through she was willing to be a little more lenient. He hasn't hurt you so far… but is that because he hasn't had the chance to, or because he doesn't want to? No… remember how angry he got when Boon suggested he might harm you? Maybe he really has changed.

"What is with you and that guy?" Boon asked with sudden frustration. Katara's concern had, apparently, hit a nerve.

"I… he's just young, that's all," she replied.

"You've had other patients that were younger than he is… and you're younger than that coal-for-brains jerk." The sandbender boy said vehemently. Katara sighed softly. It would be so much easier if the two of them could get along.

"You're right. I don't know. I guess I just got to know him when he was with me."

"I thought he mostly slept," Boon half questioned, half growled; he was determined, she had to give him that.

"He had nightmares," she replied with a slight grimace. "And that says plenty about him." There was a loud SNAP which caused the waterbender to start. She looked over to see that Boon had finally managed to unfold the cot.

"Damn, that was hard."

"You do realize there's a clasp on the side…?" she asked with a hint of a smile on her lips. Boon blushed with embarrassment.

"Oh. Right. Of course." She smiled and shook her head as she reached into the sled and pulled out the mattress which she set on the tough metal frame. While she did that Boon got out the other two cots and set them up—more quickly this time—around the room.

Silence began to settle between them. Katara contemplated saying something, but eventually decided against it. She let her worries being to catch up to her: Aang, Sokka, Toph… and Zuko. The others, at least, had numbers on their side and were most likely safe. Had they gone back to the Misty Palms Oasis, and as long as they had Appa they would be alright. Zuko, on the other hand, was surrounded by people who hated him and was soon to be thrown into an arena to fend for his life. She knew he was capable of fighting, but that didn't stop the concern.

"Katara?" Boon's voice suddenly made her look up from the empty bowls she was unpacking. "What are you doing here? I mean, what were you doing when we found you?"

"I thought the past of a captive didn't matter to you people," she replied and raised an eyebrow. She wondered where Boon's sudden curiosity had come from. He'd never asked her anything about herself before.

"You're more than a captive to me," he replied, and Katara suddenly felt nervous. More than a prisoner to him…? What was he trying to say? "I'm just… interested, is all," he said and looked away from her as he settled the mattresses on the two remaining cots.

"Well I was travelling with the…" should she tell him? About the Avatar? Maybe not… "Some friends of mine, and I walked out a little ways into the desert to see if I could maybe spot that library everyone always talks about. That's when you guys ambushed me." Her last comment caused Boon to kick at the ground and shove his hands into his pockets awkwardly.

"We normally don't go so close to civilization," he said, "but we'd been following some Digging Jack Rats. If you can catch them, they're one of the best sources of meat out here."

"Boon… do you ever miss it?" She didn't have to elaborate. They both knew that it was a reference to a time when Boon lived in the Earth Kingdom with his family.

"All the time," he said with a sigh. "But this is better than living in a war-torn land. I can get avenge my parents on the Fire Nation people without being punished." Katara couldn't really agree with Boon's violent point of view, but she did understand where he was coming from. "What about you?" He asked. "Do you miss your Water Tribe?"

"Of course," she replied with a sad smile. She remembered exploring the ice with Sokka, waking up to help Gran-Gran cook, sledding with penguins… but she'd left it all for a greater cause. And while she loved her home, she'd never feel the same sense of thrill that she did when with Aang.

"Have you ever been in the Fire Nation on your travels?" He asked after a few moments.

"Yes," she replied, "it's actually a really beautiful place." She wasn't lying. It was quite lively and bright. The only problem was that it was too obsessed with conquering the other nations. The Fire Nation raised boys to become soldiers, and as a result the people could be bitter. "Their people can be… difficult sometimes, though."

"Katara…" Boon's voice was surprisingly delicate. "You don't have to tell me but… did he ever hurt you?" the statement stunned her. He… Zuko. Had he hurt her? She looked down. Ba Sing Se… she didn't reply. Boon got up and left.

She felt an ache in her chest. Betrayal. The wound was still there. Even after all this time she still remembered how much it had hurt when she saw him race into the room, shooting fire at her and Aang. I thought you had changed.

After he sat down Shoji had gone to practice with the others. He'd seen that Zuko wasn't going to do anything. So the prince watched from the shadows while the other practiced. Some were terrible. Most were adequate. Few were good. There was maybe one or two who could compete with Zuko's own skill. When the firebenders stopped playing with knives and swords and actually practiced their bending he saw that they were rather competent fighters. Their downfall was that they spent all of their time only on firebending and not enough time on hand to hand combat. Still, as long as they could firebend, he suspected they would do alright in the arena.

Shoji was good with the ax. He was thick and fairly agile for someone his size… but he wasn't fast enough. There was a skinny man with a scar on his neck and a full beard that could use a knife with skill. One tall man was excellent with a bow. A broad shouldered young man was decent with a blade. There were two bald men who appeared to be related that could wield maces with accuracy. Zuko studied them. His possible allies, his possible enemies. Their advantages. Their weaknesses. How they worked as people and not just as warriors. There was a lot of variety with them, but Zuko noticed one thing that they shared: they were all determined to get out of here.

After a time he decided he could be doing more to help himself. So he shifted himself onto his stomach and dug his hands into the ground. He pushed himself off of the ground… then down… up, down, up, down. And all the while he watched them. Some of them glanced over to him. Others stared. Some didn't notice at all.

When he rolled onto his back to do sit ups he saw that what little shade the building had offered was almost gone. Noon was coming; fast. And without a shirt or shoes, it wasn't going to be pleasant for the exiled prince. He tried not to think about it. Instead he continued to lift his head to his knees and kept control of his muscles as he worked.

The firebender got lucky. Just before all of his shade disappeared one of the guards opened the grate like door and walked into the arena.

"Alright, everyone, time to move." And so they were herded from the hot courtyard into a huge indoor room. It was fairly near the courtyard so it offered the prisoners little chance to escape. Especially if one were to consider the dozen or so guards that were on watch and the fact that all of the weapons had been confiscated and put away in the cart to be removed. The prisoners were lined up and shackled together. Zuko's mind was still going through the things he had learned about his fellow captives: who would be a good ally in battle, who would be trustworthy, which of them would die the quickest or would be most likely to stab him in the back…

The line of prisoners was about halfway to the room when all of a sudden one of them broke free and ran. He sprinted away from the line and towards the door. All of the prisoners stopped to watch the fleeing captive. He was almost around the corner when a javelin sprouted from his back and he collapsed. Zuko winced. It seemed like a painful death.

And then, just like that, they continued on. No one said anything. There were no warnings of what would happen to other escapees. Nothing. They just… kept walking. Even Zuko, battle hardened as he was, couldn't help think it a bit disconcerting.

When all of the prisoners had gathered in the large room and the doors had been closed and barred they were released. Light and fresh air came in through high windows and openings in the ceiling. It was so much cooler than it had been in the courtyard where even in the shadows it had been hot. If the exiled prince had to guess, he would say this was a dining hall. This idea was only reinforced by the fact that there were several long tables with bowls of food set on them.

Without question the prisoners sat down and began to eat the shapeless grey mush. Zuko's cringed, and withdrew. It smelled disgusting. It looked disgusting. His stomach growled. He clenched his gut, attempting to cease the noise. He was hungry… the last thing he'd eaten was half of that apple last night. And he'd been exercising all morning. But it looked so… disgusting.

"You'd better eat something, Prince," a familiar voice said behind him, "lest it be eaten for you." He turned to see Shoji there, a bowl in one hand and a spoon in the other. Zuko glanced back to the table. He could never remember eating anything so repulsive.

"I'd rather not," he said; even when he'd been pretending to be an Earth Kingdom peasant he'd eaten better than this slop.

"You need to keep up your strength," the older man told him. "The Bah'Kre Tribe is supposed to be here sometime tonight. That means we fight tomorrow. If you won't practice, you should at least eat." As much as Zuko hated to admit it, the old man was right. He needed to have something to keep him going. He moved to pick up an untouched bowl from the table. He frowned as he disturbed the contents with his spoon.

"It's not as bad as it looks," Shoji said reassuringly. With a bit of hope the exiled prince lifted the mush laden spoon to his mouth… and nearly choked it back out. After a moment of gagging he managed to make himself swallow.

"You're right," he said distastefully, "it's worse."

He sat down and talked with Shoji and met a few other prisoners. Zuko told them he'd been travelling when he'd been ambushed. They discussed meaningless things, like their favorite Fire Nation food or festival, or what their favorite play was, or what they considered good music. The prince mostly listened. He didn't want these men learning any more about him than they had to, and he didn't want to be caught in his own web of lies. It was better to remain silent.

After a time the food was taken away and the weapons brought back in. The others practiced. Zuko used wall hangings to do pull ups, pushed the heavy tables around, ran up and down the stairs that led to the doors and other forms of exercise.

Finally they were lined up and shackled, just as they had been when they'd moved to the dining hall. The firebending youth was exhausted. His head was full of information about his opponents and his still not fully recovered muscles screamed from the recent stress they'd been put under. So the walk to the underground dungeons passed in a blur.

There were no torches on the walls. Instead the sandbenders had lanterns filled with what Zuko presumed were fireflies. He paid little attention to arched ceiling or metal bars that made up the dungeon. He was barely half conscious when his guard kicked him into one of the cells and was even less aware when another bowl of slop was slid in after him. Before he picked up the food he noticed a worn, tan, sleeveless shirt, new, brown trousers, and, thank Agni, shoes. The exiled prince managed to force his aching limbs to take off his dirty pants and dress into the new clothes. His sun-damaged skin burned where it met fabric, but he was so relieved to have something to wear he couldn't bring himself to care.

After dressing he grabbed his bowl of slop and managed to choke it down. Then… water—Only one cup of water. He drank so quickly that it streamed down his chin and around his mouth. When he was done he felt a note of disappointment at not having more, but he was too tired to care much. He stumbled for the bed of hay in the corner of the cell and fell into comforting darkness.

He had no idea what time it was when he woke. The cell had no windows and the fireflies in the hallway were gone. As far as he knew, all of the guards were gone. But… someone was here. They had woken him.

"Who's there?" he called out, eyes searching through the darkness. He couldn't see anything! Was this how it was for Toph all the time? How did she possibly cope! Another scuffle. Rats? Instinct told him no. There was a person in his cell. One of the other prisoners? Unlikely. If they were a friend of his, they'd have spoken up.

Zuko stood up. Even though his hands were shackled (the guards didn't want him to melt the bars of his cell) he managed to snap his fingers and call forth a tiny flame. It gave him enough light to see…

Boon.

"Hello, bastard," then the sandbender's fist collided with Zuko's jaw.