Suyin was waiting for Azula and her friends' return from the Boiling Rock alongside the airship's crew. She'd taken off her slippers, sat on a rock, and dangled her toes in the still-pleasantly warm water. It had been peaceful, quiet – until, of course, it wasn't. A commotion had taken them all by surprise – a soldier's voice, apparently, calling that a prisoner had escaped. Suyin had stayed put while the soldiers ran to investigate and lend their hand to whatever cause required them. She, less than useful, opted to remain perched on her rock and only watched with curiosity as they disappeared behind a cliff.
Nothing, for a moment. And then what happened next was a blur – two soldiers and two prisoners ran in from the opposite side. She'd recognised one of the prisoners – Suki. Their eyes had met. She said something to the others that Suyin did not hear. Azula was not amongst them. Neither were Mai or Ty Lee. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. Suyin hopped off the rock and up to her feet, not bothering to put her shoes back on.
"They're over here!" she screamed.
She ran, but they were faster. One of the "guards" knocked her to the ground and wrenched her arms behind her back. Her chin scraped on a rock. It stung. There was sand in her mouth. She tried, futilely, to spit it out. The fake guard pulled her up to her feet.
The other one spoke, "Are we sure this is a good idea?"
"I'm certain," the first one said. Suyin recognised his voice immediately, and her blood boiled. "This is our best bet of getting your father free. She'll take the trade."
"Unhand me!" Suyin snapped, but Zuko didn't deem to grace her with any response, and instead just yanked her forward towards the airship.
"Yeah, well, what I meant was are you sure it's a good idea to give her another reason to track us down and kill us?" The "guard" she didn't recognise rebuffed.
"She made her choice," Zuko said grimly, "If she wants to be our enemy – then we'll treat her like an enemy."
"Guys! Hurry up!" Suki urged. "They're coming back!"
Even as she stumbled along, forced towards the airship, Suyin craned her neck back to look behind her. Suki was right – Captain Sato and his soldiers had since realised they'd fallen for a ruse and were rushing back to where she was. Zuko swore loudly.
"Go get the ship started," Suki told him, "We'll hold them off."
Suyin fought him all the way, making herself as limp and heavy as she could, but Zuko wasn't holding back; he strong-armed her into the airship, threw open the first door they'd come across – Mai and Ty Lee's room – tossed her in, and shut the door behind her. The click of the key in the lock did not convince her, and Suyin rattled it with desperate vigour, trying to get it to open. It did not give way. She banged on the metal door with all her might until her fists hurt, and even then she did not stop.
"Let me out!" she cried over and over again, but her pleas fell on deaf ears, or else went unheard completely.
After what felt like an eternity, she felt the airship rumble to life and then lift up into the air, and still she did not stop her banging. Her arms ached. Her voice was hoarse, her throat sandpaper. The only thing barring her from exhaustion was the anger – and fear – coursing through her body. But even that eventually gave way, and she, exhausted and defeated, sank to the ground and hiccuped over her sorry state.
Okay, Suyin, think! she finally forced herself out of her pity party. It wouldn't do to tire herself out crying; she had to preserve her energy and keep her wits about her. How much time had passed? It couldn't have been very long, but no one had come to check in on her yet. What were they even planning to do with her–? She didn't think they were going to kill her – it seemed like too much trouble to have kidnapped her in the first place. If anyone had asked her before, she wouldn't have said Zuko was the type to kill without reason, either, but who knew just what he was capable of, having turned against his country?
But no. Most likely they were going to use her as a leverage against Azula. She was, after all, her only connection into politics; she couldn't imagine they had any other use for her. But what exactly? A hostage exchange? They already managed to rescue Suki; was there even anyone else they wanted? She vaguely recalled Zuko mentioning someone's father – another prisoner, then? Must be. For if they were hoping Azula could stop the war all on her own just to save her handmaid, they were clearly suffering from an overactive imagination.
Finally, after god-knows how long, someone knocked on the door. Suyin jumped. Steeled herself. Wiped her eyes with her sleeve, just in case, though her tears had long since dried. She had to remain alert, she had to gather what information she could. She watched the door with wary eyes as it opened, and in stepped Suki.
In all honesty, Suyin had been, in part, looking forward to seeing Suki again. She never thought they'd meet again, but when Azula announced that they were going to retrieve her from the Boiling Rock and bring her back to Caldera City, something within her had perked up. Obviously, Suki wouldn't be happy about the plan, but maybe she'd be glad to at least be out of that prison. Maybe their meeting could have even been amicable. The last time she'd seen her, Suki had been badly bruised, with a split lip and a swollen black eye, and Suyin wanted to see her now as if to have proof that she was better, that she'd healed. That the hurt Suyin had caused her was only temporary.
But now Suyin could barely stomach looking at her. For all her relief that Suki was all right (she wasn't sporting a single bruise!) Suyin was overpowered with bitterness instead. She'd changed out of her ugly prison uniform and into a red tunic and linen pants. Clothes that Suyin knew very well – clothes that she had packed for this journey, just two days ago.
"You shouldn't be wearing that," Suyin snapped. She'd promised herself she'd remain calm, to ask, neutrally, what they wanted from her, but she couldn't help it. This blatant show of disrespect got her going more than she'd ever expected.
"Sorry," Suki said, not at all apologetic. "These fit me."
"You can wear my clothes," Suyin bargained, "Or– or any from this room. But not hers."
"Come on, Suyin. That's not what I came here to talk about," Suki sighed. She either didn't care about whose clothes she was wearing – or took some sort of pleasure in it. Suyin wouldn't put it past her to wear them just for some sense of revenge.
"Well?" Suyin snapped.
Suki was right; there were more important things to talk about. Even Suyin wanted answers. But right now, looking at Suki wearing those stolen clothes– oh, she could scarcely find it in herself to think of anything else.
"I just– wanted to tell you that we're not going to hurt you," Suki said gently. "You're just going to have to stay put for a couple of days, and then I'm sure you'll be well on your way home."
Suyin couldn't bear to look at her. She drummed her fingers on her thigh in an idle, pent-up gesture. "So what are you trading me for?"
"A... friend of a friend, you could say."
"A prisoner?"
"Yes."
That didn't tell Suyin much, but it told her something, at least. Would Azula even take the trade-? It depended entirely on how important this prisoner was, she supposed. She couldn't imagine being worth anyone important. And even though she knew Azula cared for her deeply, and that she was clever, and was willing to pull strings for her – just how far could she possibly go? She wasn't free to do as she pleased. Every action of hers had to be justifiable. And a prisoner of war for a handmaid...
"And if she doesn't take it?"
Suki gave her a wry smile, "Zuko says she will."
That didn't answer her question, but then again, Suyin wasn't sure she wanted to know. If she wasn't useful to her enemies... what, exactly, would stop them from getting rid of her?
"Where are we going now?" Suyin asked instead of repeating her previous question.
"I can't tell you."
As if, what, Suyin was going to be able to send a message to Azula with their coordinates? She supposed Suki was just being overly cautious.
Suki lingered awkwardly by the door. It almost seemed as though she wanted to say something, or that she was waiting for Suyin to say something. Ask something? Maybe she was hoping, just as Suyin had, before all this happened – that their meeting could have been cordial, that they would have some friendly words to exchange. But Suyin could find no kind words for her, not right now, not when she was all but seething.
"Well," Suki said finally, "if you need anything, just give a shout."
"Can I at least go to my room?" She blurted out. "The other room, that is. All of my things are there."
Suki gave her a long look before she shook her head, "Sorry. Not until we land. It shouldn't be long."
So much for needing anything. Was she thinking about her own daring attempt to escape, when she convinced Suyin to let her out of her cell? There was no need for such caution. They were hundreds of feet up in the air – how, exactly, was Suyin meant to escape? She came from a fishing town: she could swim admirably, and she'd even grown accustomed to long ship journeys after spending so many months at sea. Flying, however, she felt was completely unnatural to humans, save for the long-gone airbenders, she supposed. She'd been queasy enough on the airship with Azula allowing her to cling to her; she certainly wasn't brave – or stupid! – enough to try an escape all on her own here. Suki had had her friends. They'd helped her in what way they could – and she helped them in return. She remembered the intense trust they held in one another, that unshakable faith that they would rescue whoever got sent to the Boiling Rock. That it wasn't so terrible a fate, because it would only be temporary, because their friendship would prevail.
But Suyin was alone right now, and the only thing she could do was hope that Azula would come through for her. Pray for it.
"...Your sisters didn't come rescue you in the end," Suyin said quietly, just as Suki turned towards the door.
She stopped in her tracks. "No," she said slowly, "but they tried."
Suyin watched through the airship's small window as they passed above clouds and sea and land. She watched as the sun set, reflecting orange and pink on the moving water, until the scenery was consumed by darkness, and she couldn't see anything anymore. Still the airship continued on its way.
She still had no idea where they were going. No one had come to speak with her after Suki's brief visit. Not that she wanted to speak with anyone else, but in all honesty, a part of her had been expecting Zuko to seek her out and– and what? Explain himself? Apologise? Ask her about Azula? Any of those things, she supposed. He was probably the one piloting the airship, but Suyin was almost certain he could leave the station while they were sailing peacefully through the air. He could speak to her. But he didn't. Either he considered her an enemy not worth speaking to, or he still considered himself a prince, and her a mere commoner, also not worth speaking to. It was fine; she didn't want to see or speak to him either. Not after everything he'd done to Azula, to their country. And even to her. Was it Suki's idea to take her along as leverage against Azula, or Zuko's? They'd never been close, but hadn't they gotten along before? Hadn't they spent months together on the ship back from Ba Sing Se to Caldera City? Hadn't she even pinned his hair up into a topknot, once upon a time?
It must have been a couple of hours after sundown that the airship finally began to make a descent. It landed roughly, jerking up and down with unsteady movements, and Suyin felt her stomach in her throat. The pilot – Zuko, supposedly – did not have Captain Sato's steady hand or experience, and it was, frankly, a miracle that they managed to land as gently as they had. She peered out from the window, and saw the soft orange glow of a campfire. Surrounding it were dark silhouettes of people, but Suyin couldn't make out anything apart from that; it was too dark to see any fine details.
She saw them move. Evidently, her captors had left the airship to meet up with the others, but left Suyin still locked in her room. She watched as they fell into each others' embraces. She heard their raised voices, muffled, as they were overcome with emotion, but she couldn't make out at all what they were saying.
A few moments later, the lock clicked, and the door opened. There was no other warning, no knock, no words called out to her from behind the thick metal door. It simply opened, and there, besides Suki and Zuko, stood a young boy. She'd never seen him up close before, but the arrow tattoo on his head told her everything she needed to know. She steeled herself. Her heart was pounding in her chest like a hammer. There he was, the enemy of their nation, whose existence threatened their very way of life, whose failure to die had gotten Azula into such trouble–
The Avatar sent her a crooked smile, "Hey."
He was, verily, a child. Suyin had only seen him from afar before, and though he'd looked young enough then, she didn't quite imagine him to look like this. How old was he, anyway? Certainly younger than Azula. She'd put him around her little sister's age. She thought of her, her sweet Jiyun, so occupied with games of make-believe and styling dolls. So carefree. How could any child be such a threat to an entire nation-?
Avatar or not, enemy or not – it was hard to believe either way. He was doe-eyed and his cheeks were still full with youthful fat. The smile came easily and freely to him, it seemed, lighting up his entire face without restraint. And when Suyin said nothing, but only continued to stare at him, half-fearful, half-stern, he took another step towards her.
"I'm Aang. You're Suyin, right?" He said, his sunny smile untouched. Still she said nothing, but nodded slowly. "Are you hungry?"
She was about to say no; she didn't want to have anything to do with any of them at all, but the promise of food was tempting. She hadn't eaten anything since breakfast that day, and even that had been a light meal, for the anticipation of seeing Suki again as a prisoner had made her too anxious to eat. Now she regretted it.
Suyin nodded. She was expecting that they'd bring her some food to the room and again leave her alone, but Aang cheerfully waved her over and said, "Come on then, we have plenty to go around."
She looked at them with distrust – from the cheerful Aang, to glancing briefly over Zuko, to letting her gaze rest, momentarily, on Suki. The Avatar seemed genuine enough, but he was surely the most dangerous enemy, and so Suyin couldn't exactly trust him. Zuko she knew best, though she trusted him the least. After all, he was a turncoat who'd had no qualms attacking her. He shifted awkwardly beneath her gaze, caught somewhere between angry and ashamed, she guessed. Neither wanted to meet the other's gaze. She didn't trust Suki, either, but, admittedly, she liked her more than the others.
"He's right," Suki tried a smile when their eyes met, "Come and eat with us. There's no reason you should stay here all alone."
Being restrained as a prisoner, Suyin thought, was a good enough reason for her to remain locked in this room alone. She wasn't entirely sure whether she had any choice in the matter, either. Was this a thinly veiled threat? Or did they really just want to make her feel as comfortable as possible, given the circumstances?
Warily, Suyin stood up. Was this really a friendly gesture? Or were they going to lure her out to kill her? (But why not just do it now and get it over with-?) Slowly, she followed them out of the airship, still having said nothing, and the group led her outside to the campfire. Motioned for her to sit down. She did so cautiously, choosing a place a little further away from the rest of them, but close enough to Suki. She didn't trust her – but she trusted the others less. There were 6 other people around the campfire, one looking at her warily, one with pity. One girl wasn't looking at her at all, it seemed. Aang introduced them all in order – Sokka, Katara, Toph. Suki and Zuko she knew, of course, but Aang introduced them anyway. There was a pot bubbling with something that smelled absolutely heavenly over the campfire, and Katara ladled some of it into a bowl and handed it to Suyin.
She held the bowl carefully in her arms, savouring the warmth of it in her hands. There were chunks of various vegetables floating around in the stew, and little else. She stirred it with a spoon, inspecting the ingredients as best as she could. It didn't smell off, no bitter scent, no sickly-sweetness that might have lent itself to danger. What were the chances that they wanted to poison her? Small, she hoped. She watched as Katara handed out bowls of the very same stew to the others, Zuko and Sokka and Suki, and she waited until they'd taken their first spoonfuls before she brought any of the food to her lips. If they noticed her caution, they did not comment on it.
Maybe she was just hungry, but the stew was– really, really good. Simple, and nowhere near as good as her mother's cooking, but it was warm and tasty and sated her, and as she ate, she found that she was beginning to feel calmer.
Obviously, she couldn't let her guard down. Just because she was still alive, just because her captors invited her to their circle to share their meal didn't mean she was safe. Didn't mean she could trust them. But neither did she have a reason to disbelieve them entirely: she was here for a hostage exchange, and they would not have much of a bargaining chip if they went ahead and killed her. So, ever so slightly, Suyin relaxed.
Only once their bowls were half empty did the others – the ones who hadn't been involved in Suyin's kidnapping – press them for the questions that were evidently burning on their tongues. To allow them any time to eat at all was a kindness, and by the way Zuko and Sokka scarfed down their meal, it was clearly a much needed one. So now, their hungers at least somewhat sated, they asked:
"What happened?"
"It was– really, really intense," Sokka said as he wiped his mouth, sloppily, with the back of his hand.
And they – her kidnappers, that is – told the rest of their friends, Aang, Katara, and Toph, what had transpired at the Boiling Rock. Suyin listened quietly, not saying anything, but her eyes grew wider as she listened to them recount the story. How they'd snuck into the prison, looking for Suki. How they'd stolen the prison guard uniforms. How Zuko had gotten captured – how he'd gotten recognised, and everyone had wanted to speak with him privately – the Warden, Azula, Mai… Of how he'd managed to escape when Mai's heart softened for him. How they'd fought, then, on those gondolas so high above the boiling lake, and how Mai had saved them from certain death, how she'd turned against Azula, how Ty Lee, when given the choice, chose Mai over Azula.
Suyin could hardly believe it. Why would they ever turn against Azula? They'd known from the beginning what Azula had set out to do. Hadn't Mai asked to come along? Hadn't she wanted revenge for the way Zuko had treated her, for turning against the nation?
Had she really lied about all that? All along, had she meant to save him-?
Her stomach clenched in an awful tightness. The last remnants of her hunger turned, instead, to nausea, and she set the bowl down, unable to even think of eating. She only prayed she wouldn't throw up. Poor Azula-! How terrible she must feel right now! Suyin thought she'd given her enough trouble, having gotten kidnapped, even in the best of circumstances. But now it seemed this was only one facet of the terrible weight on her shoulders… How desperately Suyin wished she could be there to comfort her-!
"It's good that your girlfriend still has your back," Toph said, "Who knows? Maybe she'll convince your sister to lay it off, save all of us some trouble."
"I doubt it. I tried getting through to Azula. But she didn't even want to talk," Zuko shook his head. His voice was level – clearly a conscious attempt on his part – but he couldn't hide the bitterness in it. "It was stupid to think that a letter could change her mind. She's blind to– er, sorry, Toph— she's too devoted to Father; she won't go against him–"
Suyin's mind reeled, "Letter?" she interrupted, "What letter?"
Everyone turned to look at her, almost as though they had forgotten she was there. Or at least, they certainly hadn't been expecting her to speak up at all.
"I left her a letter before I left," Zuko said with little patience, "Her and Mai both. I thought maybe she'd understand, but clearly– not."
Before he left? On the Day of Black Sun? No– she'd returned together with Azula that day. They'd entered her room together; there had been no chance for Azula to be there before Suyin. And hadn't the door been unlocked? Hadn't they searched the whole room up and down, looking for any sign of intrusion? They'd found nothing that day–
"There was no letter," Suyin said emphatically.
Zuko furrowed his brow, "Maybe that's what she told you. That's what she does. She lies."
"No. I'm certain. There was no letter. Someone– someone must have broken in and taken in. The door was open when we got back; I thought I'd forgotten to lock it, but–"
"Father," Zuko concluded. He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, as though he were trying to steady a pounding headache. "I told him too much. He must have– he must have sent someone out to check her room. Stupid-!"
"Then– it's not too late!" Aang exclaimed. "You have to talk to her. Clear everything up. Maybe we can still get her to join us."
"Join us?" Sokka spluttered. "She was trying to kill us!"
Aang shrugged, "So was Zuko."
"She literally killed you, Aang! You were dead! You were gone–"
Only then did the Avatar's face harden. His lips pressed together into a thin line, and those wide eyes turned down in not quite shame, but something akin to it. For a brief moment, the silence that encompassed the campfire felt deafening. Suki nudged Sokka with a harsh expression, and the boy opened his mouth as if to say something, but thought better of it, and returned to that stewing silence.
"Look, Aang," Katara said gently, "I know you want to see the best in everyone. It's what I admire the most about you. But you can't end a war by making friends with everyone–"
"Why not?" He got up to his feet, clearly worked up, "One more friend means one less enemy we have to fight. We could use all the help we can get."
"It's not always that simple–"
"You're right, Sokka. She ki– she attacked me. Me. If I can look past that, why can't the rest of you?"
"Because you're not the one that had to deal with the aftermath," Sokka snapped. "Who do you think carried your body out of the catacombs? Who brought you back to life? Nursed you to health? Have you ever thought about what that felt like for us? For Katara? We looked upon your corpse and we thought you were gone for good. We thought you'd left us to deal with this whole fucking mess on our own–"
"Sokka, calm down–" Katara put her hand on his shoulder, but he brushed her off.
"No– this needs to be said! If you want to be besties with your killer after this– fine. But don't pretend you were the only one affected. After what she did to you, to us, to Suki– we deserve to have a say in this," Sokka said.
"Fine. I'll admit that. Let's see what everyone thinks," Aang decided, and for all his previous cheer, his voice was strangely bitter.
"You know what I think," Sokka muttered.
"Yes, you've made that perfectly clear," Aang said. "Katara?"
She drew in a deep breath, "Aang, I… We don't even know if she'd be willing to join us."
"That doesn't matter right now. If she refuses – we remain enemies. The question right now is if she even deserves a chance," Aang stated.
Katara pursed her lips. Looked around all their friends sitting around the campfire. Her eyes returned to Aang, now filled with determination. "I'm with you, Aang. If you can forgive her – if you really think this is for the best – then I support your decision."
"Thank you," he nodded.
"Ditto," said Toph. "We don't regret bringing Zuko on board, why not his sister?"
"Suki?"
She held Sokka's gaze for a long moment. His expression made it clear he was hoping for a specific answer from her, but he didn't say anything, didn't push her. She looked at the others, and briefly, her eyes met Suyin's.
"I'm far from a fan of hers, but– she's not rotten to the core," Suki said finally. "She could have killed us when we were captured. Instead, she went out of her way to transfer us to prison. If you want to believe she can have a change of heart – I won't stop you."
Sokka huffed, but ultimately said nothing, not even a mumble beneath his breath.
"Zuko– you believed she could change. You left her that letter. Do you still believe it?"
"I don't know," Zuko admitted. "After everything just now… I don't know. But she's my sister. I have to try."
And then the Avatar turned to Suyin. In contrast to the bright smile he wore upon their first meeting, not even an hour ago, his expression now was hard, determined. Though still pudgy-faced and wide-eyed, he now wore the unmistakable confidence of a leader. For the first time, he looked brave beyond his years. For the first time, he truly looked like an Avatar.
"Suyin," he said her name gently, and it felt strangely intimate to be addressed like that by the Avatar. "Do you think there's any chance she'll denounce the Fire Lord?"
Once again, all their gazes were on her. Suyin swallowed. This was all so complicated; she didn't even know whether she should be telling them – the enemy! – anything at all. They seemed… genuine. At least, the Avatar did. But so did Suki, so did Katara. It felt as though they really believed what they were doing was the right thing. But what if they were all just playing her for a fool-? Besides, she couldn't speak for the princess; she wouldn't dare speak for her, much less to their enemies-! All she wanted was the best for Azula. The difficulty was that it was impossible to tell what that meant.
"I– I don't know," Suyin confessed. It was the easy answer, with no burden of being right or wrong, just unsure. "She was really, really hurt when you – Zuko – left without saying anything. I think… at one point, she might have. But now…"
She trailed off as she thought of that dreadful night when Azula came to her, unable to hold back her tears, with news that the Fire Lord was marrying her off – discarding her. Of how her devotion, though bruised, remained. If her brother had held his hand out then, if he'd asked her, softly, to leave with him – would she have accepted? Would she have ever chosen her own happiness over that of her father's?
She shook her head, "I don't know. I don't know."
They made her sleep in the airship that night. Not a surprise, by any means, for while they were mostly friendly, and though Suyin had never killed before and had no desire to start now – she couldn't have promised the idea of stabbing Zuko or the Avatar in their sleep wouldn't have at least been tempting. Doing her duty for her country and all that. She was allowed to sleep in her room – Azula's room – and they locked her in from the outside. There was only a small window in the airship's room, one she wouldn't ever possibly manage to squeeze through, so with that, there was no chance of her escape.
The greater sin was that the room had been thoroughly ransacked. She'd meant to retrieve the knife she'd packed, to slip it into her underclothes. Not for any reason in particular, just– for the sense of safety being armed would give her. But the knife was missing from its place, as was the little satchel of coins they'd taken. A number of garments were missing as well, mostly Azula's, but some of Suyin's, too. Shame burned in her chest. She knew what it meant to be a prisoner; she couldn't fault them for taking their belongings. And yet, it only felt like kicking her while she was down, rubbing salt into the wound. Were they, she wondered, going through Mai and Ty Lee's room now? They'd find no weapons there – Suyin had already looked for Mai's knives, but the girl must have taken them with her before.
She didn't think she would manage to sleep at all that night, but exhaustion won her over and she fell into a fretful sleep. And when she awoke in their bed, with Azula's scent on the pillowcase, for a moment she thought it had all just been a bad dream.
On the third day, they took the airship to Mount Huanma, a solitary, almost flat peak amongst a jagged landscape. The ship landed without much grace; clearly Zuko was still getting the hang of piloting the thing. They were alone. No other airships, no other people. No Azula. Suyin felt her heart squeeze in her chest. Maybe... maybe she wouldn't come after all. Maybe she didn't care about her as much as Suyin had thought. Or maybe even she, princess of their nation, wasn't able to justify paying such a high price for a girl who was merely a commoner. Suyin couldn't blame her; of course she couldn't. But it still hurt. The thought burned hot within her like acid, even as the wind raised goose-skin on her flesh.
Her arms ached, her wrists were pinched and sore. They'd put her in a block of earth handcuffs before they disembarked the airship; Toph had crafted them with skill and ease, and Suki held tightly onto her elbow, as though there was any chance of Suyin running off on her own. The angle at which her wrists were held behind her back grew uncomfortable after a mere quarter of an hour, and though she considered asking them to ease her restraints, just a little bit, ultimately her pride had held her back. She wasn't about to ask her captors for any favours. Even in this situation where the Avatar (and his friends) had shown her kindness, even though no harm had befallen her– in the end, she was still a hostage. In the end, she was nothing more than a pawn in a larger game, one she'd never wanted to take part of.
It felt like an eternity before the sound of engines alerted them. They heard them before they came into sight, and Suyin's heart jumped into her throat. An airship! Three of them! All bearing the Fire Nation's insignia. They landed with far more grace than Zuko had, and before the engines had even completely died down, one of the doors opened and–
Out strode Azula, looking as grave as death itself. Their eyes met at once, snapping together as if through a magnetic force. Her expression was hard as stone, lips pressed into a thin, downward curve, her brows furrowed. Even from far away, Suyin could see that her eyeliner, though it looked carefully applied, was uneven and smudged and made one eye look larger than the other. Her topknot sat clumsily atop her head; the loose strands framing her face whipped wildly in the wind. Had she gotten another servant to dress and groom her? Or had she done it herself? Despite the intense feeling of relief, Suyin found that there was an ounce of shame burning within her, that Azula, who always cared so much about her appearance, had allowed herself to be seen in such a state of imperfection. She buried that embarrassment deep within her, determined to never let it show. That was not what mattered right now. Especially, Suyin thought with another burst of shame, she certainly looked even worse for wear than the princess.
And just as Suyin had inspected her, she was certain Azula had done the same. Her gaze scanned her up and down; a quick look-over, most likely to see that she was unharmed. If she felt any relief – she did not show it, but instead turned her gaze to the enemy.
"Kidnapping civilians now, are you?" Azula seethed . "I'd have thought that was low even for you, Zuzu."
"Azula," Zuko's voice called over the wind, "We need to talk."
"Do we? I've nothing to say to you."
"If you would just hear me out–"
"The hostages first," Azula stated. It was not a request.
The look her captors shared seemed to last forever. And while they did so, Azula turned her head to one of the soldiers who had marched out behind her and said something that was lost to Suyin in the wind. But the men nodded and disappeared back into the airship for the better half of a minute. When they returned, two of them flanked a tall, rugged man, leading him out of the airship by the elbows with hands cuffed behind his back. He was wearing a dirty prison uniform, and looked weary, with bags beneath his eyes and unkempt hair, but alert. Unhurt. Suyin had never seen him before, but the resemblance was undeniable.
"Dad," whispered Katara.
"He's… he's okay. That's really him," Sokka said in awe.
"Now's our best chance to talk reason into her," Zuko said quietly. "I don't think she'll do anything rash while we have Su."
"But… it's Dad," said Sokka.
Aang looked from Zuko to Sokka to Katara. His eyes lingered on her form, deeply tender. He looked at his friends, and though Suyin barely knew him, it was written plainly on his face that he was torn between duty and love. Between hard logic in war and wanting, desperately, to reunite his friends with their father.
"We secure Hakoda first," Aang decided. "That's what we came here to do. Everything else is secondary."
Zuko scoffed, but said nothing more, apparently giving in to the right of rule.
"Fine," Aang said, loudly this time, so that Azula could hear him from this distance. "The hostages first."
She said something to the soldiers, and they released their hold on Hakoda. Only then did Suki let Suyin go. Her hands were still locked in that awful block of earth; similarly, Hakoda's were still cuffed behind his back. Clearly, they would only be released after the exchange was complete. There were a dozen Fire Nation soldiers lined up behind Azula, straight as pokers and ready to engage at any given moment. Though Suyin couldn't find the strength to look behind herself, she was certain the Avatar and his friends were just as alert, just as ready to fight should the opposing side resort to trickery.
"Suyin," Azula barked, "To me."
She didn't need to be told twice. Now, with permission, she started towards Azula, towards the Fire Nation soldiers. A part of her wanted to run, to get away from her captors as quickly as possible, to be reunited with Azula as soon as possible, but the other, fearful part of her, couldn't find the strength, as if afraid they might pounce on her should she make any sudden movement. Or that she would trip over if she ran, and, with her hands tied behind her back, bash her face in. Her stride was quick, but it remained just that: a stride, not a run.
There were only a dozen metres or so between the two groups, and yet the distance felt like it took an eternity. Suyin kept her eyes squarely on Azula, whose gaze flickered from her to the enemies behind her. It was only as she passed Hakoda, somewhere at that halfway point, that she let herself tear away from Azula. She looked up at the other hostage; he looked down at her. For that split second, they were the only two people in the world. They did not utter a single word, but connected by that pitiful sort of camaraderie, Suyin was certain he was the only person who could understand just what was stewing inside of her. Was he, too, overcome by both relief and shame? Did he also want to run to his people, did he also want to just throw himself off the cliff? Was he still deciding whether he should throw himself to his knees before his saviours in thanks, or in apology?
The walk couldn't have taken more than twenty seconds in total, and yet it felt like it had been hours by the time Suyin finally reached Azula. She didn't look behind herself, but she saw one of the soldiers toss something small over at the enemy, and a split moment later, her earth cuffs fell away and released her hands. The keys to Hakoda's cuffs, Suyin realised. With this, the hostage exchange was over. They were both free – or, at least, back where they belonged.
"Princess–"
"You're unhurt?" Azula asked, and her voice was more steel than tender.
Suyin nodded. Swallowed. She rubbed her wrists, just a little sore from the cuffs. Whatever words she'd meant to say – an apology, or thanks, or both – died on her lips when Azula had cut her off, and she could no longer coax them out.
"Good. Aboard the airship and wait for me. Don't do anything stupid," Azula said, and turned back to face the enemy, as if even one moment of distraction would lead to a catastrophe.
There were so many things Suyin wanted to say. How desperately she wanted to embrace Azula! But she'd caused her enough trouble already, and they were still, essentially, on a battlefield. The last thing she wanted was to be a liability. Surely Azula needed her safe and out of her hair right now. So Suyin bit her tongue and, without another word, ascended the closest airship. The door was still open and it remained open – she could see the princess and the Avatar, and everyone else through the window, and she could hear what they said through the open door.
Zuko took a step towards Azula, and then another, and another, and another. He wasn't quite at the halfway point, but he was approaching it as he spoke, "We need to talk–"
"You really want to talk? Fine- let's talk!" Azula laughed, but her voice was high pitched and tense and bitter, "You know, when I'd heard you'd taken Su hostage, I was certain you were going to ask me to spare Mai's life in exchange. I was almost relieved. Imagine my surprise when I heard you were asking for some Water tribe peasant to suck up to your new friends instead!"
The blood drained from Zuko's face. His good eye widened, his nostrils flared and he yelled, "What do you– what have you done to Mai?"
"Now, don't play dumb, Zuzu," Azula smiled, dangerous and cat-like, "You know what happens to traitors."
"How could you?" Zuko snarled, "She was your friend– does that– did that mean nothing to you?"
Whatever kindness, whatever hope Zuko had brought out to that battlefield today had entirely drained from his face, forgotten, or abandoned, or both. It was replaced with fire – flaring nostrils and embers burning in his eyes – and literally, too: he raised his hands with fire dancing at his fingertips, twirling in a vortex at his palms, and he shot them at his sister.
Azula dodged both fire balls nimbly and with ease, and her smile widened – or perhaps a better phrase was split open. Even Suyin, in no way military, knew what this meant: Zuko had broken the truce. The hostages were safe. Both parties were meant to return and retreat as amicably as possible. Though they would remain enemies, for this one meeting where they all decided hostages were worth more than any attempt on each other's lives, they could have walked away and nothing more. Suyin knew Azula was too honourable to break that truce. But now that Zuko had…
Immediately and all at once, the soldiers behind Azula jumped into the offensive – spears and swords held aloft at the ready. The Avatar and his friends did the same. In the span of one fateful second, what peace had teetered uneasily between the two groups had shattered and everyone was, once again, engulfed in war. It broke out as, Suyin had learned, most fights do: from a whisper to a shout without as much of a warning. And once they were all engaged in the fight, Suyin could barely follow what was going on. Fire and swords and arrows – water and air, too, from the Avatar and Katara. It was the first time Suyin could see those bending styles up close, but she was too frightened to be able to admire them in any form. In the flurry of fighting, the only thing she could focus on was Azula – her eyes followed her in a desperate frenzy, as if hoping that she would come to no harm as long as she was being watched, like the desperate, futile belief of a child that no monster could get you if you only kept your eyes open through the night. Even so, it was nigh impossible not to lose sight of Azula in that frenzy. She was moving so quickly, dodging and attacking. The moving soldiers and, of course, the enemies, sometimes shrouded her from sight, and those moments where Suyin couldn't see Azula at all were perhaps the worst of her life. Only her blue fire kept drawing her eyes back to her. Those bursts of cyan amongst everything else – the blurs of grey and red and brown – were at least proof that she was alive, that she still existed.
The battle raged on. Elemental warfare like nothing Suyin had ever seen before: massive stone barriers and water sharp as razors. A steam so thick it obscured the field whenever fire and water collided, sizzling like an element of its own. All that, coupled with the terrible, howling wind native to Mount Huanma sent them into a flurry. And with one last, fateful attack from the enemies–
Azula plummeted off of the side of the cliff. Suyin screamed – her heart plummeted right off that mountain with her. She jumped out of the airship and ran after the soldiers – for of course they ran after her as well. In the distance, Suyin barely registered the Avatar and his friends flying away on that air bison, that is, getting away. It didn't matter – the only thing that mattered was that Azula had fallen off the cliffside and had fallen to her certain death, for while she was amazing and capable, she was still only human and there was no way anyone could survive such a long fall–
"Azula! Azula!" Suyin cried – formality and her title be damned.
For all those kind words they had spewed around the campfire that night – for all the motions Zuko carried with him, proudly announcing that he'd talk to his sister and find a way to make up with her – he sure was full of bullshit, all too happy to throw her off a cliff and fly away with his new friends. And as Suyin heard the soldiers call out – "she's alive!" and "get some rope!" and "hang on, Princess, we'll get you out!" – Suyin felt her terror melt into relief. She sank to her knees, suddenly unable to stand for a moment longer. And the terror gave way to a feeling just as strong, just as hot within her chest. She watched the bison fly away with Zuko until it became a white speck in the horizon and felt a hatred more intense than she had ever felt before.
Once they were back on the airship and sailing safely back to the Fire Nation, once they were in a private room, once there were no other eyes upon them– Suyin threw herself to her knees before Azula.
"Princess, I'm– I'm so sorry. I've caused you such trouble, and– and it was because of me that you came to such peril, and–"
"Oh, silence yourself, Su. I've heard nothing but apology after apology lately, and I'm sick of having to dispense forgiveness," Azula dismissed her with a snap.
Suyin quieted, and looked up at the princess with cautious eyes. Her hair was loose and wild, but her expression was blank. Suyin almost would have preferred to see her with a scowl. Anger was something that came and went. Apathy… not so much. Carefully, she raised herself up from the floor and, met with no disapproval, rightened herself up entirely.
"Then… thank you," Suyin said. "For coming back for me."
Ever so slightly, Azula softened, "Right. How could I not? You're my– you're the only one left. Mai and Ty Lee have betrayed me. Better that you hear it from me than through rumours."
"Oh, princess, how terrible…" Suyin said, and though her surprise was feigned, her words were genuine. "Then– what you said about Mai– about execution–"
"It's what she deserves," Azula snapped, and then quieted, and when she spoke again her voice was an edge softer, "But I spared her from that. I only said that to guilt him. By all means, she should be dead by now. He deserves to carry that weight."
"But she's alive?"
"Imprisoned."
"How merciful you are," Suyin said.
Azula turned her face away. "Well," she said, "what matters is that you're safe. I don't know what I would do if–"
She cut herself off there, and, when after a moment she still hadn't finished the thought, Suyin put her hand onto Azula's shoulder. The touch made the princess flinch, ever so slightly, before she relaxed into it.
Suyin gathered her courage and prodded her for the thought, "If?"
"If you were hurt. If– if they took you from me. If anyone took you from me."
The words made her heart bloom. Inflated her, perhaps, with too much courage. Azula was angry, clearly, even if it wasn't entirely directed towards her, and Suyin knew that prodding her could go either way when she was in a mood like this. Even so, she let the courage (or foolishness) take over, and she placed a gentle hand on Azula's cheek.
"I'm not going anywhere, princess. You rescued me. As long as you want me– I'll always be by your side. No matter what forces try to drive us apart," Suyin promised. "I love you. Princess– Azula– I love you."
Azula did not say those words back to her. She leaned forward, instead, to catch her lips in her teeth, and she kissed her with a certain fervour, a certain desperation that made Suyin's head spin. And she pushed her back until they both fell against the bed, and though she never said those words back, though she'd never said them before and she didn't say them tonight, either – she showed her, there and then, how it was she loved her.
