Zuko moved in almost a blur. Asuni was let go and pushed behind him, one hand stretched protectively in front of her. Zhao stood in her doorway, two of his men flanking him to either side. Iroh stood behind him, looking stressed.

Asuni's eyes wanted desperately to flick to the oilskin bag, to make sure that nothing incriminating was poking out. But she knew that would look suspicious. She used her periphery. A bit of black fabric was poking out, but that was all. She smothered a sigh of relief and turned back to the admiral.

"Zhao," Zuko snarled.

"Isn't this touching?" Zhao drawled to his men. "The prince learns we're taking his crew and he immediately comes to find his little lover."

The two men snickered. Asuni shot them both glares, noticing the glint of gold at the throat of one of them. Her eyes narrowed. That must be Zamin, the one who was assigned to make sure she didn't run into trouble on Zhao's ship.

"Such devotion really is to be admired," Zhao continued, still smirking. "Such a shame it's wasted on a peasant cook."

The men laughed again. Asuni decided that she was a bit less offended knowing that Zamin was only laughing to preserve his cover. The other one, though… she didn't like him.

"Don't talk about her like that!" Zuko barked furiously. He took a step forwards. Asuni grabbed his arm, pulling him back to her.

"My prince," she whispered. "No, don't."

"So defensive," Zhao chuckled mockingly. "Well, I can see how much you care for your little toy, prince Zuko. I'll make sure she's taken very good care of. In fact, Zamin here will be the one watching her."

He pointed over his shoulder, to Zamin, who smiled nastily and waved. He let his gaze rake hotly up Asuni's body. Asuni scowled. He was playing his part a little too well, in her opinion. She'd be yelling at him about that later.

"I'll take good care of the girl," Zamin said lewdly. "She'll be safe in my hands."

"You watch your mouth!" Zuko snapped at him.

"Then again," Zhao said thoughtfully, stepping forwards into the room. He looked around pointedly before landing on her bags. "She seems to be ready to leave. Maybe she can't wait to get away from you."

Zuko growled and lunged for Zhao. Asuni stepped in front of him, bracing her feet against the ground and throwing her arms around his chest. It looked like a clumsy embrace from a desperate girl, but in reality her shoulder was set against his and she was holding him back.

Zhao laughed. "Or maybe not."

"Don't do it," Asuni whispered into his chest. "My prince, I'm not worth it. You're already beaten him once, you don't need to do it again."

He looked down at her and Asuni looked up, eyes pleading.

"Grab her belongings," Zhao ordered. Zamin stepped forwards, grabbing the two bags and throwing them over his shoulder. He smiled at Asuni saccharinely. "You can have them back once Zamin has thoroughly searched them. Now, I think it's time for you to say your goodbyes, little cook."

Asuni gave him a dark look and released the prince, stepping away from him. She folded her hands in front of her thighs and bowed her head deeply. "It has been an honor serving you, my prince," she demurred. She and the prince had already said their goodbyes, this was just an act to appease Zhao and keep him from trying anything.

Zuko nodded stiffly.

"So cold," Zhao sighed mockingly. "Perhaps it's a good thing we're taking the cook."

"C'mon, you," said the other soldier, gripping her arm and yanking her from her place in front of Zuko. He jerked her around and marched her towards the door. Asuni paused only long enough to throw a glance over her shoulder.

Zuko stood in the middle of her room, golden eyes blazing. His fists were clenching and unclenching constantly by his side, his shoulders hunched defensively. His characteristic snarl was wrinkling his nose and the space between his eyes. It was such a painfully familiar expression, and Asuni couldn't suppress a soft smile.

"What have you got to grin about?" demanded the soldier shoving her along through the kitchen. "I'll show you-"

He raised a hand, but Zhao caught it, holding him back from striking her. He held up a finger, waving it back and forth tauntingly.

"No no, you must never strike a lady," he warned. "A whore, however…" His smile was filled with malicious pleasure as his eyes flicked to her and he released his soldier's hand. "I expect you've had quite a bit of freedom under the prince's control. That ended the moment I took custody of you. Zamin here will be your constant companion, and he will inform me whenever you so much as step outside your door."

Zamin gave her an unpleasant sneer. "Ready to get to know each other?"

Asuni turned her face away from him and thrust her nose up in the air, sneering. She staggered sideways into a wall as something connected with the side of her face. Asuni clutched her cheek, eyes wide as her face throbbed. She whipped her head around to find Zhao staring at her, eyes glowing.

"Like I said," he sneered.

Asuni kept her head down after that as she was ushered from Zuko's ship and out onto the docks. She knew better than to make Zhao mad. It would serve no purpose. Defiance was stupid; obeisance got you somewhere. So she would be the most compliant little captive there ever was – to Zhao's face.

Asuni knew she was no more a captive than Zhao himself was. Her new orders would reach her soon and she would be off. Lo Shen would be able to arrange her return to the capitol quite easily, and Zhao wouldn't be able to do anything about it. Admiral he may be now, but he still had little to no real pull among the generals themselves. Lo Shen was still leagues above him.

It did irk her that he outranked her though.

Zhao's boat was stationed not far from Zuko's – just far enough down the pier that no one from Zuko's ship would likely be down that way, Asuni noticed. She was escorted onto it, and the difference between the two couldn't have been more obvious.

On Zuko's ship she was greeted with smiles and hellos wherever she went. Here, men turned up their noses and sneered or looked her up and down like a piece of meat. She knew why. Here she was 'the prince's whore' and therefore ripe for the taking if they got their hands on her. She was nothing more than a trinket they'd stolen from the prince. On the prince's ship she had been respected, beloved. It was a jarring change, but one she would adapt to.

Here and there Asuni saw familiar faces. Kang was helping one of Zhao's soldiers drop some supplies down into the hold. He gave her a weak, uncertain smile when he saw her. Asuni lowered her eyes in response and he winced. Here and there were a few of Zuko's old crew. They gave her tiny smiles, ghosts of what they would have given her not an hour ago.

When she saw Iroh, she wasn't surprised, just disappointed. Iroh was no longer a general; that meant he had to comply with orders issued by Zhao. That he had to leave Zuko if ordered. The old man's face was more severe than she could remember seeing it and he was swaddled in a Fire Nation cloak that she'd never seen him wear before.

'General Iroh!" Zhao greeted jovially. "How do you like your accommodations?"

"They are fine," Iroh replied, again much less cheerfully than usual.

"Good. We'll depart tonight and then meet up with the rest of the fleet later." Zhao's gaze shifted from Iroh to Asuni, who stood nearby, her gaze fixed pointedly on the ground. She might not look like she was paying attention, but her ears were pricked for any information she could get. He narrowed his eyes at her and snapped his fingers angrily at Zamin.

"You, get her to her room!"

"Right sir." Zamin snapped a salute and grabbed Asuni's upper arm roughly, shoving her towards the door that led into the belly of the ship. "Come on you," he grunted. Asuni staggered slightly before getting her feet under her and walking as she was prompted.

She was surprised when they stopped outside of a regular door and not a cell. But then she realized – Zhao was dead-set on believing that she was Zuko's lover. Not only because, to an outsider, it might objectively look like that – though the idea made her blush and her heart pound – but because it was also an idea that necessitated the prince lowering himself in some way. Zhao was all for believing anything that painted Zuko in an unfavorable light. That made her a potentially valuable hostage, which accorded her a little bit more luxury than what she would normally get as a prisoner.

"Inside," Zamin ordered, opening the door and all but flinging her inside. He followed her and shut the door behind him, dropping her belongings to the floor.

Asuni had seen Royal Guards drop character a hundred times but it always impressed her, and it always made her proud to know that she could do it too. Zamin's face went from hard and unyielding to tired but friendly. His sneer relaxed into a light smile and his eyes widened out of their annoyed squint. Even the wrinkles in his forehead eased slightly.

They returned almost immediately, however, when she gave him a good whack to the side of the head.

"Oi!" he protested. "What was that for?"

"Watch your eyes," Asuni huffed, grabbing up her bags from the floor and tossing them onto her bed. She dug inside and was pleased to find that he scrolls were fine and her weapons were with her. Only then did she let the tenseness in her shoulders fade and breathed a sigh of relief.

"I was playing a part," Zamin grumbled, rubbing his cheek. "That hurt…"

"You're a big boy, you can handle it," Asuni huffed. She turned to face him, crossing her arms. "So, we're meeting a fleet are we?"

Zamin snickered. "Should have known you'd hear that. Yeah, Zhao's put together a fleet to attack the Northern Water Tribe."

"That he, of course, will lead to glorious victory," Asuni scoffed. "With General Iroh's expertise."

"Exactly," Zamin nodded. He snorted. "Zhao's a bastard, true, but he'd a clever one. And…" He paused. "And I'm sorry about taking you away from your prince."

Asuni's face went carefully blank. "Not my prince," she replied absently.

"Right," Zamin scoffed, turning to the door. "I'll be guarding you at all time, so if you need anything, stick your head out and yell."

"I will," Asuni said, nodding stiffly. Zamin stepped outside, shutting the door behind him with a bang. Asuni held her pose for a moment before she swept all of her belongings off the bed and onto the floor, flinging herself onto the bed and screaming wildly into her pillow.

When she felt the tears start to well up she stopped. There was no point letting herself become an utter wreck. All she'd intended to do was let out a little stress, not have a meltdown.

Asuni rolled onto her side, clutching her pillow to her stomach. She gave a heavy sigh.

She missed Zuko. She'd only left him thirty minutes ago but already the reality that it might be years before she saw him again was crashing down around her ears. There was some relief in the fact that, in the end, he knew who she really was, not who she was pretending to be. If nothing else, she'd gotten that off her chest, and she was grateful for that.

This did bring some uncomfortable things to the forefront of her mind though. The idea that only a few minutes parted from the prince could make her chest hurt that bad… it didn't bode well for her plan to simply let time wash him out of her heart. Maybe Zamin wasn't so far off when he said 'her prince.' Then again, Zuko didn't claim her. If there was anything, she was 'his cook.'

That brought to mind all of Zhao's subtle and not-so-subtle insinuations that she and the prince were more than they were. The idea of being the prince's lover made her face heat and her body go tingly all over. The idea was far from unappealing. She would even admit to a few fantasies when she was alone in her room at night, particularly if the prince had been nice enough to strip his shirt off when a training session got too hot…

Asuni's face was flaming and she quickly pushed those thoughts from her mind, rising from her bed and venturing to the window. She stared out over the sea, letting the breeze brush across her face. Or at least, that was her intention. The flames from the ship's engines soiled the air with heat and the scent of burning coal. Asuni made a face and stretched out her hand, pulling some cool water in through the window and drawing it into a glove over her hand. She rubbed the cool liquid across her throat and chest and down her arms, leaving nothing but a slight chill behind.

Asuni paused and rolled up her sleeves. The reason her clothes were always ankle-length pants and long-sleeves even in the heat of the kitchen was obvious. There were more scars covering her than she could reasonably explain away without admitting to what she was. But right now she was less concerned with the old wounds and more focused on the bruises forming on her upper arms.

Asuni scowled. She'd give Zamin credit for putting his all into the act, but she wished he could have been a little gentler.

She laid a hand over the bruises and the water glowed as she healed them. She whipped around, making the glow fade as she hit her watery hand behind her back. It was only Zamin, poking his head through the door with a tray in his hands.

"Dinner," he said gruffly, setting the try on the ground and slamming the door back in her face. Asuni rolled her eyes, assuming there was someone in earshot outside. She flicked the water back out of the window and crossed the room, picking up her tray and moving to the bed. She sat down on the edge and placed the tray on her knees, staring at her dinner.

There obviously wasn't a friend in the kitchen here. Her dinner was a watery miso with bits of dried meat and limp vegetables sitting sadly on the bottom. Asuni made a face as she lifted the bowl to her mouth and took a sip of the broth. It was entirely too salty in her opinion. She fished out a piece of meat with her chopsticks and grimaced at the jerky-like texture.

Asuni smiled slightly, shaking her head to herself. Well, she might as well get used to it. It wasn't likely to change any time soon. Besides, when had she gotten so spoiled that she couldn't even tolerate some bad food?

Asuni chided herself and quickly drained the broth, fishing out the meat and vegetables and chewing dispassionately. She quickly got over the rubbery texture of the meat and the vegetables weren't all that bad really. Everything was just over-salted, which, actually, she didn't mind, being very fond of salty things.

Zamin poked his head in a few minutes after she finished her meal to retrieve her tray and then settled into a chair outside of her door for the night watch. Asuni herself tucked her bags under her bed – the closest she imagined she'd get to 'settling in' on Zhao's ship, and tucked herself under the sheet. She propped her pillow up against the chain that suspended the pallet from the wall and leaned back against it, nestling herself into a little corner.

Asuni lit a candle and pulled one of her scrolls from her bag. She was tense at the very idea of doing this on Zhao's ship, but it had become a habit for her to read the story of her ancestor before she went to bed every night.

Asuni reached for the familiar scroll, only to pause. Something made her fingers drift towards a different scroll, one with a wax seal firmly in place. It had been sealed when she got it from her mother and she'd never broken it. But something was urging her, telling her that it was time to read it.

Asuni listened.

She plucked the scroll from the bag and settled back into her nest of sheets, staring at the scroll. It was fairly ordinary, as far as scrolls went. It was yellowed with age and the seal was done in cracking red wax. There was some kind of swirling seal pressed into it, but it was too worn to make out beyond a few soft curves.

Asuni slid a nail under the edge, took a deep breath, and tugged. The seal separated from the paper easily and the scroll loosened slightly. Her hands shaking, Asuni unrolled it slightly. At first glance, she saw three paragraphs along the top with sketches of a person moving through forms covering the bottom three quarters. She slumped in disappointment. Allthat drama for a Waterbending form?

But then something clicked, and she realized that, unlike most instructional scrolls, there was no element illustrated. No fireball, no swirls of air, no bubbles of water, no chunks of rock. Asuni scowled at that and focused on the words at the top. They were written in a shaky hand, like whoever scratched them out was either very old or very sick. Possibly both. It took a bit of work, but she was able to read it.

My dear friends from the Spirit World have given me a greater gift than I possibly could have expected. When I released them from their dark forms, I expected nothing in return. I thought only of saving my friends and neighbors from the wrath they brought to our village. I never expected a reward for my services, and yet, I have received more than most men have ever dreamed of.

My gifts are two-fold. First, they have guaranteed me a place in the Spirit World with them once I die. It pleases me to know that I will be able to speak with Kasumi the dust spirit and Feng-Feng the frost dragon as easily in death as I can in life. Since I met them they have become my great friends and confidants.

Second, and perhaps even more awe-inspiring, they have promised their aid. And not just their aid, but the aid of any spirit near me when I call for help. Kasumi personally shared the form I have transcribed below. She called it the Dance of Summoning and explained it to me like this: the forms help to aid the circulation of my ki from one part of my body to another. That circulation in the specific pattern will… I don't quite understand it. It seems like it activates something in my very soul that calls to a spirit and allows them to lend me their strength for a limited time. That is, to merge with them. She warns though, that it may only be used once a year. More, and the strain on my soul would destroy me. I have written it down so that my descendents may share my good fortune and, hopefully, survive any trials they may back.

Asuni sat back, awed. She knew her mother's family was spiritual, but this! To bind with a spirit and draw on their power, even if only once a year, would be enough to tip the balance of even a huge battle.

Asuni scrambled eagerly from her bed and stood beside the sheets, spreading the scroll out along them to check. She was familiar with the movement of energy within the body, and she was easily able to work her way through the steps of the set without actually shifting the energy the appropriate way.

For hours she worked, moving through step after step, constantly checking to make sure that she was doing them correctly, that her elbows weren't too high, that her toes were pointed appropriately, that she wasn't over extended.

Asuni would have happily continued working through the form – imagine the trump card this technique could bring! – until the wee hours of the morning. But it had been a long day, both emotionally and physically. She sank down to sit on the edge of her bed, trying to recall… Yes, it had been only that morning when she left the ship, when she and Zuko had talked…

A wave of weariness washed over as she recalled that conversation. The emotional ups and downs were things she wasn't used to. So, deciding that she was going to need at least a little sleep to make it through her first full day of imprisonment on Zhao's ship, she tucked the scroll away and blew out the candle.

Asuni lay in bed facing the wall. As she'd half-expected, the moment she laid down to rest she was no longer tired. Thoughts whirred through her head. Her return to the capitol, Zuko, what would happen to her on Zhao's ship, Zuko, and the armada headed for the Northern Water Tribe.

It was nearly two hours later and she was finally starting to get sleepy once more, her eyelids lowering wearily, when the door to her room opened. Asuni was instantly alert. She knew it wasn't Zamin – this figure was slightly shorter and not clad in armor. She feigned sleep, peering through her lashes at the shadow on her wall and taking deep, even breaths. Her hand slowly slid under her pillow towads the knife there.

The door was shut quietly, subtly. Whoever it was wasn't trying to attract attention. That sealed it for Asuni and, taking advantage of the fact that whoever it was would be facing the door and not her, she ripped the knife from under her pillow and lunged.

She crossed the room in one long stride and dropped the person with a kick to the back of the knee. Asuni jumped on them, bearing them the rest of the way to the ground. She straddled their back, knees pinning their hands down. She gripped a fistful of a ponytail, nails scraping slightly at bare skin, and yanked the person's head back brutally. Her knife rested warningly against the side of their throat, ready to cut.

"Identify yourself," she growled into an ear, "and you may surprise the night."

The person under her grunted, "S'ni ge-off!"

Asuni's eyes went wide. She flung herself off of the figure, landing on her rear. She squinted into the blackness, watching as the slightly darker outline of the person she'd tackled levered themselves onto their knees, settling into a comfortable crouch.

Asuni opened her mouth. "Prince Zuko?" she said uncertainly.