General Zogen oversaw the disposal of the stinking crate himself, knowing better than to trust anyone else to be sure it was done right. The last time the task had been done incorrectly, it had taken weeks to rid the facility of the reek.

After pushing the box down into the shallow pit used for trash disposal, he quickly readied himself to burn it. To his disgust, the wood splintered in a few places, causing excrement and other rot to seem from it. He could just barely make out the greyed foot of the corpse from a gap that faced him.

A quick burst of flame was all that was needed to set the wood on fire, but he knew it would take far more heat to turn the body to ash. He concentrated more heat onto the deceased man, slowly watching the flesh blacken and melt from the bones.

He wasn't a cruel man by nature. Strict, and maybe callous, but he didn't go out of his way to cause pain. He had his orders, just like everyone else, and carried them out to the best of his ability.

If his orders happened to involve allowing a man to slowly die of starvation in a crate of his own shit, so be it.

If he deserved the fate, who was Zogen to play god? That was the Fire Lord's job. Men such as himself are simply the angels on earth, tasked with performing the duties He required.

Of course, he usually preferred to leave the dirty work to his guards. The torturing and killing? That wasn't his style. But some of the men he employed seemed to thrive on it.

And who was he to deny their talents when they were so needed during a time of war?

That isn't to say he didn't get a small bit of pleasure from tormenting the minds of his prisoners. He knew first hand what it takes to break a person, and has been happy to implement the skills he possessed for the good of the Fire Lord (and maybe for a bit personal entertainment).

As the bones had just begun to break apart under the heat, he was interrupted by someone behind him clearing their throat. Ceasing his flames, Zogen turned to acknowledge one of his most trusted guards, a large built man named Sherik.

"General," the guard bowed. "I apologize for interrupting, but I have some insight on the waterbending girl."

The older man nodded shortly, encouraging the man to go on.

"When we went to continue the interrogation, as you had commanded, the boy with the scar was there," Sherik began. "He had been providing her with her prepared food and water. We hadn't expected her to have access to water, and she caught us off guard. The boy reasoned with her to not kill us, saying it would only make it worse for her."

"And she listened to him?"

"Yes sir. They seem to have a mutual respect for the other. The girl is strong, and would have given in yesterday if pain alone would break her. I think the boy is the key to her. She trusts him."

Zogen considered this for a moment. Sherik had always had a knack for reading people, understanding what makes them tick. If he says pain is not the way to this girl, he thought, then perhaps we should consider alternate methods.

"Allow me to finish my work here," Zogen said. "Then we will discuss further actions regarding the girl's treatment."

The guard nodded. "The boy is in his room awaiting instruction. Shall I prepare him?"

The general smiled, his yellow eyes bright. "No. Tell him nothing. He needs to maintain the relationship the two have, and that can only remain if he is left in the dark with her."

Dismissing the other man, Zogen turned back to the partially disintegrated pile of bones. As he prepared to complete the job, he considered the advantage against her that the scared boy could provide. The Prince may finally be able to contribute something that would make his Nation proud. He may prove to be of some worth to his father, yet. Chuckling darkly at his own joke, he let the heat burst from his palms, engulfing the bones in the pit before him.

.

Zuko was thrust into Katara's cell roughly. He practically knocked her over, but she maintained her balance as she caught him, allowing him to get back on steady feet.

She warily peeked behind him, but no one else had come in.

"What are you doing here? I thought they were just going to leave me in here, after what happened earlier." Katara commented.

"I don't know. They just told me to be here, and-"

Someone else did come in, then. The large guard whom Katara had attacked. He was followed by Zogen, who coolly regarded the two younger benders before taking a seat on the dusty ground. Katara thought it interesting that a man of such power would find the dirty floor an acceptable place to sit, but her attention was quickly drawn back to the other man as he closed the door and reached behind his back to retrieve something from his belt.

Zuko edged closer to the girl on instinct when the guard, who he knew to be called Sherik, drew out a menacing looking whip from behind his back. He held it by a smooth wooden handle, which was connected to a thin strip of animal hide. It wasn't very long, which Zuko knew to be a good thing, as he'd learned that longer tails meant a more powerful impact.

Although he desperately wanted to step in front of Katara, shielding her from whatever attack was sure to come, he knew it would only make the punishment worse. Zogan and Sherik were both master firebenders, and he knew the later had a fair amount of physical strength, as well. He couldn't take them both, and without any water to bend, Katara would be practically helpless against them in a fight.

To his relief (and confusion), Sherik set the whip down in front of them. Zuko shot a look at Katara, catching her eye briefly and noting that she was just as tense as he was.

The guard then removed a simple knife with a smooth obsidian blade of about 4 inches in length, placing it on the ground next to the whip.

Zuko and Katara had to scramble to the side to get out of his way as he purposefully stepped up to the chains on the wall. Looking back at them, he seemed to be weighing his options. His eyes shifted from one to the other a few times before finally settling on Katara.

She could barely react in time as his large hand clamped down on her arm and dragged her to the chains. She struggled, of course, but not as much as she would have if Zuko hadn't been there. She didn't want him to be punished for her actions.

Once her arms were securely bound above her head, Sherik turned to look at the general.

"Which would you like to try first?" he asked gruffly.

Zoken looked steadily at Katara for a moment. "Why not ask our guest if she would like to reconsider her answer, first."

When Katara didn't answer, he prompted, "The tribe. Hakoda's fleet. Where are they?"

"I. Don't. Know," she responded icily.

The older man's eyes flashed for short moment. He then leaned back against the wall dismissively. "Let the boy choose."

Zuko tensed, looking at the weapons before him. Choose? Why would they have me choose? Why am I here?

Sherik grunted before kicking first the knife and then the whip closer to the boy's feet.

"Pick one."

Zuko starred at his feet while replying quietly. "And if I refuse?"

The guard barked a humorless laugh. "Then I'll make the decision. And I'll pick both."

Knowing better than to challenge him again, Zuko slowly bent down and hesitantly picked up the blade. It was very light, but he knew that the black rock was sharper than any metal, and was careful with how he held it.

Sherik considered his choice. "I knew you'd pick that one." He smiled then, clearly pleased at himself for being able to read the boy so well.

Zuko just looked at him blankly, waiting for his next instruction.

The order came just as he'd expected, but it didn't hurt any less. "Cut her."

Without moving his feet, Zuko turned his head slightly to meet Katara's eyes. She didn't look scared, only defiant. But she nodded her head slightly at him before glaring daggers at the guard.

When Zuko moved, it wasn't to face the girl, but to stand directly in between her tethered body and the two men.

Zogen raised the scarred area where his eyebrow would have been, while Sherik looked unsurprised, if not a little disappointed.

Shrugging, the burly guard picked up the discarded whip before standing inches from Zuko's still face.

"I'm sure you can guess what will happen if I have to ask you again," he warned.

Zuko made no motion to respond or carry out the order.

Behind him, Katara struggled to look over his shoulder so she could see the guard's face. Why didn't he just do it? He's only going to make things worse!

A loud crack made her jump. She hadn't seen the whip being drawn back, but caught sight of it falling back to Sherik's side. Drips of sticky red liquid fell to the ground from it's thong.

And Zuko hadn't even flinched.

Satisfied with himself, Sherik stepped back to catch Zogen's reaction.

From his spot on the floor, the general's usually blank face held a hint of interest. He gave his guard a short, respectful nod, encouraging him to continue.

Turning back to Zuko, Sherik's face turned hard. "While I appreciate the show of heroism, just know that the next time you pull that act, she'll get a matching mark on her own face." He leaned back against the door, leaving a large area between the prisoners and himself. "Now. Cut her."

Realizing that it wouldn't be wise to test the guard farther, Zuko slowly turned around to face Katara, blinking blood from his right eye as he did.

Katara looked at him with a mix of horror and awe. His wound looked deep, despite what his lack of reaction would have led her to believe. And he had taken it for her.

As he edged closer to her, she longed for him to look up and meet her eyes, but he just starred at the knife in his hand.

Slowly bringing it to her arm, he applied just enough pressure to make a slice through her blue robe. The fabric parted easily, leaving a thin sliver of her skin exposed. Holding her breath, Katara watched as he slowly dragged the black blade over her flesh, barely hard enough to sting. Tiny droplets of crimson beaded along the line.

Turning back to the men, Zuko carefully touched the blood left on the blade, turning his hand to show the red on his fingers.

Clicking his tongue disapprovingly, Sherik shook his head. "Again. Deeper this time," he said, toying with the whip in his hand.

Still refusing to meet Katara's face, Zuko touched the blade to the thin scratch he had made, pressing a bit harder into her arm. He quickly pulled downward, cutting more of her clothing as he did.

She hadn't even felt the pain until he had already withdrawn his arm, the blade resting at his side.

While the surface of the cut was thin, barely thicker than the hair of a polar-bear dog, it was deep. Blood had already seeped into her sleeves, making them heavier with wetness. She bit her lip to take away from the pain of it.

Zuko still hadn't moved to look at her, but she could see the guilt from the wrinkles in his forehead.

He had to do it, she reminded herself. And he's being far gentler than any of the guards would be…

As her blood began to drip onto the ground, Sherik pushed off the wall to step close to the pair. Nudging Zuko aside, he looked at her wound for a moment before roughly squeezing his hand around it, digging his thumb in to where the cut ran across the underside of her elbow.

Katara squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip harder, tasting the saltiness of the blood her teeth drew.

After a moment, she felt relief from where the hand has been pressing into her arm. Just as she had opened her eyes, a piercing pain on her cheek shocked her into letting out a high pitched cry. He had hit her.

Zuko finally did meet her eyes, then, just as off guard by the hit as she was.

He rounded on the larger guard "I did what you asked! You-"

He was silenced by another hit to his face, this time on his scarred side. Although it didn't sting as much as the first time, Zuko was unprepared, and couldn't keep his stoic demeanor any longer.

He couldn't help it when his hands began to heat up, small sparks appearing at his fingertips for a moment before he could regain control of himself.

Sherik wiped the blood from the whip, shaking his hand afterwards. Small flecks of their mixed blood splattered onto the ground from the movement.

"You'd make a terrible interrogator," he said, wiping his hands on the thighs of his black pants. "Your father would be ashamed."

Zuko tensed, and Katara wouldn't have noticed it if her eyes hadn't been glued to him since he had finally looked at her.

His father? Why hadn't he told me anything about him?

Her thoughts halted when she noticed Zuko move to place his hands on the wall beside her.

She was about to ask him what he was doing, but in that moment the sound of Sherik's whip was brought down hard on Zuko's clothed back.

Katara held back a shout as her mind reeled trying to catch up with what was going on. Is he being punished for standing up for me? Or for going easy on me?

She struggled to look at his face from her position against the wall, craning her neck as far as she could until she could just see the nape of his neck, partially covered by tufts of his dark hair.

She could see the exposed skin grow sweaty as the next strike made contact.

She began to scream when she saw blood seep through his clothing. Sherik wasn't stopping.

Zuko's resolve to keep his eyes open and stance strong weakened as the third hit broke skin. He could feel the guard's hand go heavier as he went on.

"I could stop this anytime you want." Crack. "But she'd have to take the leftovers."

Katara widened her eyes. Is that what he had told him? Do they think that I told him where my father is?

She struggled against her bonds, despite the pain in her arm, as she begged the guard to stop. "I don't know where the fleet is! I don't know!"

Sherik paused for a moment, looking over his shoulder at Zogen, who was still sitting calmly as if he were watching a leisurely game of Pai Sho.

"Continue," he said without looking away from the girl.

The guard nodded before turning back to the task at hand, hitting the boy with a particularly strong blow.

Soon, Zuko's arms began shaking from where they were braced against the wall to hold him up. He could feel sweat drip down from his forehead, sliding across the bridge of his nose before falling to the ground.

Or maybe those were tears. He couldn't quite tell.

Hearing Katara's pleas of "no stop what are you doing he doesn't know anything it's not his fault" made it hurt more. So he tried to block out her words and instead focus on his shoes. He really should see one of the sewing ladies about getting that hole patched up. His dirty socks were falling apart more and more each day they were exposed. Maybe Red would be able to snag him an extra pair. He seemed to like him well enough.

His back was beginning to grow numb, but he could still feel every hit vibrating throughout his body.

Katara couldn't stop crying. This was her fault. Someone had been nice to her and is getting hurt because of it. It should be her. Not him. Not him.

Her pleas had become hysterical, but the onslaught of abuse was not stopping. She screamed louder and cried harder as Zuko's blood sprayed onto her side and face from the force of Sherik's whip.

It went on like this for several minutes, and Zuko had resorted to leaning his head against the wall for additional support as his arms grew too shaky to hold him up. Only after his brown shirt had become completely soaked through did the guard let the whip drop.

He stepped away just as Zuko's body gave out, and he fell to the ground.

Katara's wrists were rubbed raw as she frantically tried to turn to the side enough to see if he was conscious. She let out a breath of relief amidst her uneven sobs when she saw him sit up, leaning back with his arm propping him up so his back wouldn't touch the ground or wall. His face was red and damp, but his eyes held fire.

The general had stood up and was approaching her by the time Katara had torn her attention from the boy who had just taken a beating for her.

To say Zogen was disappointed would be a massive understatement. But he could not hold on to his belief that this girl held the information he needed. He would have to tell the Fire Lord that his source had proven to be useless. He would have had her killed right on the spot if he hadn't been so intrigued.

This boy, who he had broken years ago, was so… different with her. He would have thought it honorable had he not hated him so much. What was it about her that made him seem almost… WHOLE again?

Zogen made it his mission to stop it, whatever it was. He would break her, just like he'd told her on the day she'd arrived.

But for now, he simply unlocked the manacles from her wrists. As he turned to leave, Sherik in tow, he couldn't help but smile at the confused expression on her face.

Yes, he thought, knocking to be let out of the room. I'll let them stay together and lick their wounds. He always was a sucker for a good love story.

After giving the ginger-haired man stationed in the hall instructions to bring them both food and water before lights out, Zogen thanked Sherik for his services, dismissed him, and headed to his private quarters.

After attending to an order of food that needed to be sent out, the general prepared for bed.

He thought about the boy with fire and the girl of ice, and the connection they shared.

He couldn't wait to watch them shatter like two porcelain birds knocked from the top shelf of a trophy case.