Judge & Jury
Disclaimer: If I owned A:TLA Santa would stop getting letters from me.
Rating: T for violence! And some coarse language.
Thank you all for your wonderful reviews. They mean a lot!
All those who are thirsting for Boon's blood will be pleased with this chapter. ;)
VampireinDisguise: I like how you think. But such is not the case in this instance.
ManUGirl: Have a heart, now. Boon is nice to Katara. He isn't really keeping her prisoner, his people are. He's kind of dense and a little misguided, but his intentions are good. And just out of curiosity, have you heard of Stockholm Syndrome? But anyway, it's okay, Boon's just there for the drama. This is a Zutara fic, after all. :)
Sokkantylee: Haha, we'll see. The arena doesn't come for a few chapters still though; we have to deal with Boon drama right now.
Bridget Friste: Well there is plenty of ass-kicking. And don't worry, he loses the shirt pretty quickly. xD
Reviews = Happier writer. What do happy writers do? Write. Do you see how this works?
Stars exploded in Zuko's eyes as Boon's fist made contact with his jaw. He fell back, caught off guard; his mind whirled. Boon's in my cell beating me up. What are my options? Fight back. Do nothing. Try and distract him. Call for a guard. Avoid him.
"Boon—" Zuko said as he straightened. But before he could say any more, he felt rough hands grab the front of his shirt and within the space of a ragged breath a fist collided with his face, dislodging anything he might've said. It didn't seem like talking would work as a distraction. Could he call a guard? No… even if one did come they would probably just watch and laugh. Evasion? No, Boon's fingers were wound too tightly in the fabric of his shirt. Besides, there wasn't enough room in the cell to avoid the other teenager.
That left fighting.
Boon's fist collided with his jaw once more. The exiled prince could taste the blood in his mouth—hot and metallic, like molten copper. It slid down his throat and he choked, coughing it up. His blood might've hit Boon, but in the dark he couldn't be sure.
Another cough wasted his precious time. His muscles were still weak and he had little endurance. Everything ached from his earlier work out. He had to take Boon out soon, or not at all. It seemed that Zuko's body knew this was true; he heard the faintest brush of air as Boon's arm reloaded. Without conscious thought, Zuko's arm was up and blocking the fourth assault.
Opposite him, the prince heard the other bender grunt in surprise. He took the temporary pause to force his shackled hands upwards; in doing so he forced Boon's hand to relinquish its hold on his shirt. He took the opportunity to lift the chain of his shackles up and over so they pressed on the back of the sandbender's neck. Just as Boon realized what was going on and began struggling, Zuko slammed his knee into his opponent's gut. The bender groaned as the air rushed out of his lungs. If he hadn't been so busy a small sense of victory would've rushed through the exiled prince.
Without pausing, he shifted his strong, wiry fingers to grab Boon's head. It was easier because the bender's long hair allowed him to gain leverage. Then he pulled. Face met knee. There was an audible and loud pop that Zuko had to assume was Boon's nose, breaking.
With cold light in his eyes the exiled prince moved his hands to wrap them around his opponent's neck. Boon panicked and tried to pull away. When he realized that the chains of Zuko's shackles prevented him from escape he thrashed violently. There's no sand for you to bend in here, the firebender thought coldly.
Then he felt pain explode between his legs as the other bender kneed him in the groin. The prince's legs buckled and he went down. Boon fell, pulled down by the chain at the back of his neck that connected him to Zuko. Boon was the first to recover. While on his knees he reached forward blindly and grabbed Zuko's neck; he took the next moment to slam his fist into the prince's gut. Zuko, however, had been expecting this. He tensed before impact and the blow did little except as a distraction. It gave the sandbender the time he needed to push the firebender's shackles back over his head (releasing the pressure from the back of his neck) and pin his hands over Zuko's neck.
And now that he was free he stood. Having felt his hands being removed and hearing the scuffle he knew Boon had gotten up, Zuko too began to rise but he wasn't quick enough.
The enemy bender's surprisingly well aimed kick hit him right in the ribs and pain lanced through his side.
"This for her, you bastard!" the bender growled, speaking for the first time since he'd entered the cell. "This is for the pain you put her through!" Another kick. Zuko's body struggled to fight back, but his mind was distracted by what Boon said. For her… for the pain… he couldn't be talking about anyone but Katara. The pain? What pain? What had he done? He'd never hurt Katara. She was his friend. She was the one who was keeping him sane in this alien environment.
Another blow to his ribs. His vision was clouding as the blood rushed away from his brain.
"You sick, twisted little fuck," Boon swore viciously as he continued to inflict damage to Zuko's ribs. "You're never going to hurt her again!" hurt… does he mean… did she tell him about Ba Sing Se? The memory hurt him more than any of Boon's blows had. The look on Katara's face when he had appeared and how it had fallen so dramatically when he shot flames at her and Aang. Pain. Extreme and justified pain. Betrayal. Of course you hurt her… she had thought you'd changed… you stabbed her in the back. Just like you stabbed Uncle. That made a part of him think that maybe he deserved this beating. This was justice.
"No!" he cried out suddenly and lifted his shackled hands to catch Boon's foot. "I've changed!" He growled as he twisted and threw his opponent's balance off. I didn't change just to help the Avatar, he realized suddenly. I changed to redeem myself. For Uncle. He moved quickly when Boon fell. The firebender untangled his hands from the other bender's ankle before he moved to sit on top of his opponent. With his legs he pinned down the youth's arms. Then he stretched out the chain at his wrists and pressed it against Boon's throat. The other teen had been successfully pinned to the cold floor of Zuko's cell.
For Katara.
"Guard," Boon cried out weakly. "Guard!" Zuko pressed harder to shut Boon up. He wasn't going to kill the other boy, but he wanted to force him into unconsciousness.
However, before the exiled prince could accomplish the task the hallway lit up. He could hear the frantic sound of feet scraping against stone and sand. Iron met iron as a key was hastily shoved into a lock. Voices spoke urgently. Zuko barely registered any of it.
"I'll never hurt her again," he hissed lowly so that only the sandbender boy could hear him. The prince saw the fear on his opponents face. Instead of relishing it like he used to, he just felt cold, hard determination. "And I'll keep her safe. I'll start by getting rid of creeps like you who think they know everything about her." Boon's dark eyes widened and his mouth moved, but no words came out. He looked like a fish out of water. His face was turning a sickly blue from lack of oxygen.
Then, just as the sandbender was going limp under Zuko's grip, a sharp pain in his head knocked the firebender into oblivion.
She woke to the sound of running feet and fretful voices. Lights danced in the hallway and shone through the tattered blanket she'd hung up in the doorway. Concerned by the activity, Katara sat up in her bed and threw her legs over the edge. The voices were getting louder.
With an anxious look on her face she pushed back her blankets and grabbed a robe from her bedside. Someone must have been hurt. Just as she finished wrapping the robe around herself a group of three sandbenders hurried into the room bearing a stretcher.
"Miss," one of the benders started, "he's been hurt—"
"Put him on one of the cots," she replied without bothering to hear the rest of the story. Whoever was on that stretcher needed help now and she could wait for the explanations. While the group of sandbenders settled the victim on the cot she hurriedly opened the wooden barrel containing fresh water. She quickly grabbed a bowl and filled it with the pure liquid before she went to him.
What met her eyes nearly caused her drop the bowl.
Boon…
Bloody, beaten and bruised.
Suddenly, she was a little more interested in knowing what happened.
"How did this happen?" she asked the three sandbenders as she leaned down by her unconscious friend's side. He was quite the sight with deep purple bruises creating a necklace at his throat, blood speckled on his face and streaming from a crooked nose, torn and wrinkled clothes from what could've only been a fight…
"He went into one of the prisoner's cells," one of them said as she tore open Boon's shirt. Fortunately he wasn't that badly injured there. Just some bruises on his stomach. He must've been winded. "We heard him yelling, but didn't suspect anything. Sometimes our tribesmen go down there to take out their anger on the prisoners. After a while it got real quiet… and then Phi here—he's got real good hearing—he heard the kid call out 'guards', so we went down and he was being strangled. We barely managed to save him. As it is he passed out cold."
"Oh Boon," she lamented as she held her water covered hands over his stomach. The bruising there began to lighten and heal; her hands then moved to his neck.
"Is… is he going to be alright, Miss?" One of the benders asked. She could tell all three of them were worried. Maybe sandbenders were hardened and cruel towards outsiders, but when it came to their own, they were like a family. Katara didn't reply immediately; she was trying to assess the damage done to his neck. After several long seconds, she spoke up.
"He should make a full recovery." All three of them relaxed and let out shared sighs of relief.
"Thank the gods," one said. "He's going to be fine." While they shared their relief she went about healing the damage done to his neck. It had been bruised pretty badly. They were lucky she was here… if his throat was left unattended he'd speak with a rasp in his voice for the rest of his life. Carefully she touched his neck and tried to soothe the irritated skin. It took some time, but eventually the purple bruises began to die away. It was then that she realized the bruises formed little rings… like chains.
"Who was the prisoner he attacked?" she asked in a choked voice, barely managing to keep the dread from her tone.
"It was that new guy," one of them sneered. "I think they're calling him Prince," She inhaled sharply. Zuko.
"Can you grab me that rag?" she asked as she tried to keep her voice calm. One of the benders nodded and offered it to her. She wet it and began to wipe away the dried blood at Boon's nose and upper lip.
"Do you know what he did?" she asked carefully. "To upset Boon, I mean."
The trio looked from one to another as they considered it. Katara waited in strained silence. She worked at cleaning the specks of blood off of Boon's face while the others thought… specks of Zuko's blood…?
"Not really sure," they finally replied. "But Phi says he heard Boon yelling, 'This is for her,' and 'this is for the pain you put her through', and things along those lines." She froze. Oh no, Boon. I didn't actually say he'd hurt me! That was uncalled for! She would have some words for him when he came to. As she thought about what she'd say she reached forward and snapped Boon's nose back into place. The others winced. She would've too, but she knew that her friend was unconscious and felt none of this.
His nose was fixed, his face was clean, his bruises healed, his neck as repaired as it was going to be by her hands at the moment…
"Who's looking after… the prisoner?" she asked as she bent the water out of the rag. She couldn't look them in the eye when she asked.
"Prince?" One of them replied. "He's at the Posts."
"Posts?" she said lightly as she stood up and put the rag and bowl back.
"Yeah. Sashain's furious with him for hurting Boon. He's getting some fifty lashes."
"Lashes?" Katara yelped, dropping the bowl she hadn't yet set down. The sandbenders looked confused at her alarm. "Where are the Posts? Take me to them!" she cried out. She had to get to Zuko. What about Boon? She glanced over at him. He'd be fine; he just needed rest. Besides, he was the one who had started all of this.
"He's… this way," one of the benders said, and began towards the door. She grabbed her med kit (which was basically a water skin and bandages) and hurried after him.
"C'mon, I don't have all day! Run!" She demanded. She had to hurry. She couldn't let Zuko go through that kind of pain because of a stupid overreaction Boon had had. Or was it an overreaction? You never told him what Zuko did… maybe he thought it was justified. No… no, what the prince had done at Ba Sing Se didn't merit a torture like this. He'd suffered enough. I need to forgive him.
Frigid water splashed over him and brought him back to consciousness. He wished it hadn't. The cold shock made him start, but he didn't gasp or cry out. I can't move my arms… he thought mildly as he lifted his head. He was exhausted. He was too tired to even open his eyes the whole way; through hooded lids he viewed the mass of people before him. The other prisoners… he realized after a moment. There was also a scattering of sandbenders. Possibly guards. Possibly there to view… view whatever was going to happen to him. For surely they were here to view something related to Zuko; they were all staring at him.
A heartbeat later a sandbender with dusty blond hair appeared in front of Zuko.
"Good morning, Sunshine," he said with a cruel grin on his face. The exiled prince said nothing. He watched silently as the other man reached up to where the firebender's arms were tied to a thick, wooden post. "Gotta make sure they're good'n tight," he said with a malicious chuckle as he pulled the belts that bound Zuko's wrists even tighter. He couldn't feel his hands. After he was sure the first one was tight, he checked the other one. Then he stood in front of the prince and rested his hands on his hips before looking down at his feet. Only then did the firebender realized his ankles had been wrapped in weighted chains to keep him from kicking out… not that he could anyway. He was too weak.
"Looks like you're ready for the big event, Sunshine!" Zuko spat a mixture of saliva and blood at the man. He just chuckled and walked off of the stone platform.
"You've been gathered here, in the dead of night, to be shown that no crime you commit under us will go unpunished. All of you already know the rules; I don't have to repeat them to you. If you break them… you'll end up like Prince," the voice was Sashain. She was telling the other prisoners… she was making an example of Zuko! "He's here to pay for his crimes against one of our own. He injured one of my tribesmen, and for this we pass judgment." Maybe you should tell them about how he snuck into my cell, the prince thought bitterly, or how I was only acting out of self-defense? But Sashain brought up neither of those points. Instead she turned her head and nodded to someone that Zuko couldn't see.
"Crime: Assault. Verdict: Guilty. Punishment: Fifty lashes…Alright. Go ahead." The exiled prince didn't even turn his head to try and see who that last order may have been directed at. Whatever they're going to do, let it be fast, let it be bearable.
But after the first strike of lancing pain was followed moments later by another, he realized this was to be neither fast nor bearable.
Swish, snap, crack. Swish, snap, crack. She could hear the noise reverberating off the walls. Her heart raced and her stomach felt tense. Rise, bring it forward and hit flesh. They'd already started. Hurry, hurry! She raced towards the room, in time with the sandbender who had offered to guide her. She knew that he was confused as to why she was so urgent, but she didn't care to explain. There was no time.
When she finally entered the open courtyard, the first thing she saw was Zuko's emaciated back. It already looked like ground up tigerseal meat. It was sickening. His wrists were tightly bound to two posts so they were stretched out to their full extent and slightly above his head. His feet were weighted with some sort of chain, but she doubted that mattered. He looked like he was resting all of his weight on his wrists; his legs had long since given out. His head hung. She couldn't see his face. His blood streaked down his naked back and pooled around his legs on the stone floor. Some of it trickled off of the podium and around the mass of Fire Nation prisoners that were gathered around at the front. They couldn't see his back directly. It's because the sandbenders want them to see the pain on Zuko's face, she realized suddenly. The whole display was disgusting.
"Stop!" She cried out after the initial shock had worn off. "Stop this right now!" she cried out. She didn't care that she was speaking out to her captors and an array of prisoners from a nation that hated her. All that was on her mind right now was Zuko.
Surprisingly enough, the man ceased whipping the prince and the crowd all turned their eyes on her. Katara swallowed roughly at being put on the spot. Don't back out, she told herself. She had to do this. So without saying further she walked up the stairs and onto the podium. With no hesitation she crossed the stone floor to the exiled prince.
Saying he looked terrible was an understatement. Blood dribbled out of the corner of his mouth. His face was purple with bruises from where he'd been hit repeatedly. And his ribs on his left side… it was as if someone had thrown rotten blackberries all over him. He wasn't necessarily any better off than Boon had been, but he wasn't doing much better. The battle had been close. Her heart ached for Zuko. He'd just gone from one danger to the next. He'd practiced hard and long all day (or at least she'd been told that's what the prisoners did at the arenas before battles) and without fully recovered muscles, too. Then he'd been forced into a fight on little food and with weakened limbs. He's so strong. He was at a major disadvantage, and he still managed to take down Boon.
"Zuko…" she said, too softly for anyone else to hear. She gently reached forward and cupped his face in her hands. His skin was pale from bloodloss and hot and sweaty under her cool fingers.
"K…Katara?" he said so weakly that she barely heard him. His yellow eyes flicked under his hooded lids.
"Yeah, it's me," she replied, attempting a reassuring smile. She lifted one of her hands from his cheek to push aside the sweat drenched hair stuck to his forehead. He was dangerously close to a fever.
"He said I hurt you," Zuko said, and though his voice wasn't very strong he sounded urgent. "He said… Agni, I'm so sorry, Katara," he whispered… practically whimpered. "Please… please…" he was too addled to form a sentence. She felt wracked with sorrow. He didn't deserve this.
"I'm going to get you out of here, Zuko, don't worry," she said gently before she moved away from him. She had to untie his hands.
"No… don't go!" he cried out as loud as he could, and actually managed to summon the strength to stand up. He was desperate.
"It's okay, Zuzu, I'm right here," she said from his side. He calmed at hearing her voice. She reached up and began to unbuckle the belt that bound his hand.
"Katara… are you going to explain what's going on here?" Sashain called out from her position to the side of the crowd. Took her long enough, Katara thought. Without looking over the waterbender replied;
"He doesn't deserve this." The belt was too hard to unbuckle from her position… she opened her water skin and slashed the bindings. She didn't see the glances exchanged between the flogger and the leader. Should I stop her? He questioned. A shake of the head. No.
"He nearly killed Boon," Sashain replied calmly. "If the guards hadn't arrived in time, he probably would have died." That sent a shudder through Katara. Would Zuko really kill Boon? She glanced at his pale, scarred, desperate face. No… he wouldn't. Boon provoked him. He must have just been defending himself.
"Well, he didn't," she replied. "And you're killing him. Can't you see he's had enough?"
"He still had another twenty lashes to endure," Sashain replied as Katara cut down Zuko's other hand. He nearly fell to the floor, but she managed to catch him. The waterbender didn't care that his blood was getting all over her robe.
"Not anymore," she replied firmly. "You there," she caught the eyes of one of the guards. "Get me a stretcher!" she barked. He glanced back at Sashain. She nodded. He left.
"You're gonna be okay, Zuzu," she said softly. It felt ridiculous calling him 'Zuzu'… and yet somehow right. More right than Kuzon.
"K-… I'm sorry," he whispered. She put a finger to his lips.
"Don't try to speak," she said softly. "I know you're sorry. It's okay." She smiled gently. "I forgive you." He seemed to relax at that; his eyes shut and he let out a heavy sigh of relief.
Moments later a stretcher arrived. She put Zuko on it; stomach down. Then with the help of two sandbenders she carried the bloody prince back to her room where she could tend to his wounds.