AN: Thanks a thousand times to all you awesome reviewers for so much encouragement and support! You're the best! Somebody asked about the recruits - Palluk, Attuk... those other guys - and yes! They will be appearing again, a ways down the line maybe, but they're definitely coming. Palluk is kind of a big deal now. (!) And that same discerning reviewer asked about signs of Zuko's past life in the Fire Nation - yes, again! Oh, the memories, the familiar faces... coming soon! At last!
Edit: Augh! TitansBalrog89 is right! Penitent Zuko snuck by me again! Here's a slightly edited and improved final scene.
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Zuko did his best not to shout at the engine room workers or the mechanics, but sometimes the fury that had been building in him cracked his calm surface and erupted.
"I don't care if it keeps springing new leaks!" He jabbed two fingers against the mechanic's oil-spotted uniform front. "It is your job to fix it, and if you have to patch it back together every morning and every night until this ship limps into Harbor City, you will do your job."
The mechanic, staring with twitching eyes at a point in the distance, stammered his acquiescence. They always stammered their acquiescence, they always did their best. It was difficult to believe, though, that the finest royal cruiser in the fleet could be coincidentally experiencing unending malfunctions while carrying home the most important prisoner in the war. Zuko gave the repair crew a final scorching look and then stalked from the engine deck, trailing a cloud of smoke.
Technically, a prince should not have bothered with such menial affairs. There were officers for that sort of oversight, and they should have been reporting the troubles to Azula, who commanded the ship. It just so happened that Zuko had been having tea with his sister when one such report arrived and, desperate for anything to do that was not reviewing records of maritime trade law or histories of export and agricultural taxes, Zuko had pounced on the opportunity. Now, weeks had passed and what had begun as a pleasant enough diversion had mutated into an infuriating mystery.
Because there was no way this was a coincidence. When Zuko figured out which of the engine workers was sabotaging the ship, he would personally see the man brought to justice.
"Y- your Highness."
He paused on the landing and snapped his glare onto the soldier. "What is it now?"
"Sir," the private said, his eyes wide over his drooping mustache. "The Avatar has requested an audience with you, sir."
Zuko came to a complete stop, frowning. After all these weeks at sea, the Avatar had never made such a request before. It was on the tip of Zuko's tongue to refuse. After all, he had resolved to stay clear of the brig and all of the turmoil that waited for him down there.
But, it was the Avatar. He couldn't help being a little curious.
Zuko spun on his heel and strode back down the stairs toward the brig. Soldiers cleared a path for him in the corridors and servants bowed deeply, standing still in the way of nervous rabberoos.
Not at all like the way Katara had stood so still on the stairs a few days ago. Walking past her had been like walking past a coiled mink-snake. Her collar had gleamed just like scaled flesh. Her humble posture still itched under his skin like venom.
Zuko squashed the memory brutally. He filled his days with unnecessary tasks and dry studies so that he would not think of her. Just because he was going to the brig now did not mean anything had changed.
Inwardly, he cursed the giddy tremor in his chest.
Guards opened the way for him and he forced himself not to glance at her door as he strode past. The Avatar's door swung open before him and he went straight into the cell, still glaring.
To his surprise, the boy had grown a head of hair that made him look even younger. He sat on the floor in a meditative posture, which fell apart as he startled with a rattle of chains at the sight of his visitor. Zuko stopped and waited for the door to close behind him.
At another time in his life, Zuko might have looked on the captive Avatar with pride. He had accomplished what none of his ancestors could. A hundred years of quests came to an end with this monk locked in these chains.
But looking at him now, Zuko wasn't proud at all. There was a chaotic storm of feelings in him, but none of them was pride. He spoke quietly, fighting to maintain a calm demeanor.
"You requested my presence, Avatar. Here I am. What do you want?"
For a second, the Avatar only stared at him. It strained Zuko's patience, that wide-eyed stare. Then, the airbender straightened his back and held up his chin. "I want you to release Katara from her promise."
A filament of ice tickled through him, but Zuko brushed it away. Probably, the kid had overheard the guards talking. "You are my prisoner. What reason could I possibly have to obey your command?"
"It's not a command. It's just the right thing to do."
As if the words were a hook, they pierced through Zuko's skin and held him rigidly in place. The Avatar peered up at him with a determined, earnest look on his face.
"A hundred years ago, when I got frozen in the ice, the Fire Nation was still at peace with the other nations. I had friends there. I visited all the time. And the one thing I remember best about the Fire Nation-" A smile fleeted across his face like a bird across the sky. "-was all the rules. I know a lot's changed, but I don't believe the Fire Nation could have completely forgotten how to tell right from wrong." The whimsy cleared away, leaving a faint furrow in his young brow as he sat straight again. "The Fire Nation I remember would never have enslaved their enemies. Holding Katara to a promise she made to save her brother's life is wrong. But… I think, in your heart, you already know that."
Zuko stared down at the boy on the floor. He was so small, his wrists as fragile as wings under the manacles. His eyes were so bright and clear. A horrible ache lanced through Zuko's chest, like something vital had been torn out of him. Something he hadn't known to miss until he saw it looking back at him through a child's eyes.
"You're right," he said, smooth and quiet. His face twisted bitterly. "A lot has changed in a hundred years."
He watched fear seep over the Avatar's face, and he didn't bother to stop himself.
"Do you really think it's that simple? Some confusion over right and wrong? I was taught that to relinquish any advantage over an enemy is a sign of shameful weakness. I was taught that, to be a worthy Fire Lord, I would have to be merciless - not just with my enemies, but with everyone."
The Avatar leaned away from him, bracing one hand behind him as if to get up and run. But of course he couldn't run, not chained to the floor the way he was. Realizing that he had been looming over the boy as he spoke - shouted - Zuko took a step back.
"What do you know," he said, tight-lipped. "You're just a kid."
The kid stared up at him, another frightened rabberoo frozen in place. Zuko looked away with a sharp exhale and folded his arms over his chest. He fought a wave of nausea, scowling so it wouldn't show.
"Katara will be safer in my service than she would be in a prison." He looked back in time to see the boy's uncertain expression. Zuko's jaw tightened. "It's yourself you should be worried about, Avatar Aang."
He turned to leave, but Aang's voice pulled him up short.
"Whatever you think is going to happen with her, you can forget it."
Zuko stopped. Slowly, he looked back. He didn't like that tone. "Excuse me?"
Aang flushed, but his grim frown did not waver. It was as if the child had blown away like mist to reveal something harder and older towering in its place. "You heard me, Zuko. Whatever happened between you before the beach, whatever made her want you to join us then, that time is over. Katara will never forgive you after everything you've done."
It took Zuko a moment to feel the disbelieving sag of his face, but in a snap he was scowling again. He stalked close and bent forward, bringing his nose within a foot of the Avatar's and forcing him to back up.
"You don't know anything about that, either."
Aang met him with a glare of his own. "I know she would rather live in a cell with us than upstairs with you."
Zuko's scowl hardened - but only until the words sank in. He straightened back up slowly, watching Aang's confused face without really seeing it.
…in a cell… with us…
It wasn't possible. It wasn't possible… but it would explain so much.
"Hey - where are you going? Hey!"
Without another word for the Avatar, Zuko left the cell. As the guard shut and locked the door behind him, he very slowly walked to the next door along the row. His fingers were numb, which he only noticed when he fumbled sliding the panel aside. Wide-eyed, he looked in at Toph.
She sat against the wall across from the door, picking her nose with casual enthusiasm.
Zuko grimaced out of reflex, but did not look away. He was remembering the teacup and the plates, the things he had been wary of allowing in her reach, and all the while she had heard his heart hammering in his chest. No doubt she could hear it now.
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Lieutenant Jee woke in a rush, but it was already too late. In the darkness of his quarters, he could not see the faces of the men surrounding him. He could only feel their hands, hauling him to the floor and pinning him on his chest. They caught his arms and bound them tight behind him, slipped a gag between his teeth when he drew breath to shout, and cinched a canvas strap around his chest hard enough to drive that breath out - all in the space of a few seconds. Then, two of them hoisted him onto their shoulders and carried him out to the main deck. Overhead, the stars shone coldly down and Jee could feel the tickle of fur trim brushing his shoulder.
They came in the night. A dishonorable attack, indeed, taking a ship by stealth in the night. Small wonder that veterans of the North called these men wolves.
Jee hit the deck with a faint grunt and immediately rose up to his knees. The warriors watched him, ready to close in, but they knew their technique. Black spots swelled in Jee's vision as he gasped for air. Quickly, he fell unconscious.
When next he opened his eyes, Jee found his men gathered around him, lying or kneeling on the steel. Without exception, the firebenders wore straps across their chests. The crew and attendants were simply tied with wrists behind their backs. They all looked bewildered and frightened, vulnerable in their sleep clothes. Even the sentries, removed of their helmets and armor, sat blinking in the starlight. Trussed up and plucked like a crew of ducks. A most shameful defeat.
Beyond his fellow captives, Jee spied the enemy. Just three warriors manned the deck, the blue of their armor fading into the night while the white fur trim blazed. Their faces were concealed by night and the shadows of their wolf helmets. A fresh trainee might even believe there were no men at all beneath - only the night, and its hunters.
Jee climbed carefully to his knees and subtly tested his bonds. If he could get free, he could easily divert the guards while his soldiers broke loose and took control of the deck. In a fair fight, they would stomp this rabble to cinders.
Again, black spots swam before his eyes. Jee sat back on his heels and focused on his limited breathing until the dizziness faded. With the strap across his chest, there would be no burning through the ropes, and the knots were tight as lug nuts. There was nothing to do but chew on his gag and wait.
A group of captive engine workers came stumbling up from the hatch, and one of the enemy broke away from behind them to address one of those standing guard.
"Well, this really is all of them," he said as if still doubtful. "Miku is watching the brig until we get back to clear it. I want you and Kottik with me. No last minute surprises."
He cut off as the other man gestured with his chin toward Jee. "It seems the commander's finished his nap."
The newcomer turned his head and Jee had the uncomfortable feeling that it was the wolf eyes in the helmet that watched him. He did not flinch or shy. These renegades had taken him from his bed while he slept. They had no honor, and he owed them no respect.
"Hakoda," said the guard, "I could go with Kottik and Kovu if you want to stay."
"No." The word had an unmistakeable ring of command. "Go to Miku and wait for me. I'll be down directly."
The taller man nodded and departed the deck with another warrior, but Jee was watching the leader. Hakoda. Without hesitation, he strode forward to stand over Jee, reaching up with dark hands to remove his helmet. Beneath, his hair was long and beaded, and his eyes were pale and sharp as a hawk's.
"Lieutenant Jee," he said with no trace of doubt. "I am Chief Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe. This ship is hereby commandeered. Your men have been spared as a courtesy, but if any of them cause trouble, I won't hesitate to cut their throats myself. Have I made myself clear?"
Jee glared up at him for a beat, then nodded slowly, deliberately.
The chieftain watched him, face hard as ice. "I'm going below to release your prisoners, now. Rest easy knowing that whatever treatment they have known on this vessel, I will inflict on you in turn."
It was clearly a threat intended to make him squirm. Jee barely kept himself from scoffing aloud. The warrior leader watched him a moment longer, then departed after his men.
Even though there was nothing to fear on that score - the earthbenders had been held very comfortably these past months - Jee knew he couldn't allow his men to be locked up in the brig. Once those cells shut, there would be no hope of regaining control of the ship. He had to act now, or he would lose the chance to see his crew to freedom.
Jee twisted his wrists in their bonds in an effort to stretch the ropes, loosen the knots, anything. There was little give, but he kept trying. He twisted until his bones ached and his skin thinned and broke. A warm trickle of blood rolled down his knuckles, but Jee only tried harder.
Around him, his men sat up or leaned to conceal his efforts from the guards. The sky in the east was beginning to lighten. Jee could almost pull one hand free of the ropes.
One of his men nudged him, nodding with wide eyes to the south. Beyond the guard at the rail, a mast was gliding nearer. A Water Tribe ship coming alongside. Reinforcements.
With a final, desperate pull, Jee tore his hand free of the ropes, then quickly began pulling down the canvas strap. If he could move it below his ribs, it would no longer restrict his breathing. It was very tight, though, and he could only scrape it along his skin when his lungs were completely empty.
Wood barked against steel and one of the warriors unrolled a rope ladder down the side of the ship. Jee had to get to it before any more enemies boarded. He clawed at the strap, and if it yanked out some of the hairs on his chest as it went, he did not notice.
With a deep breath, Jee leapt to his feet, burning the ropes from his ankles and the gag from his mouth in an instant and barreling into one of the guards in the next. He knocked the man overboard, then slashed fire at the rope ladder where its steel hooks were locked onto the gunwale. Flames caught, and the cords began to fray.
Jee could not stop to watch, though. Three more guards manned the deck, and all of them converged on him, handling spears with easy expertise. Jee lashed out, sending bright bursts of fire at the two on one side, then the one behind him.
They dodged his fire with the confidence of long practice, and in the growing light, their weathered faces spoke of long years at sea, made longer by bloodshed and slow defeat. But these were the survivors. They knew what they were doing, these three, and they closed in on him like wolves on an elk-bison.
But they did not expect Jee's men to interfere. One warrior went down, tripped by a soldier who flung out his bound legs, then weighed down with four tied but no less heavy bodies. Another warrior cried out and tumbled back as Jee slipped past his defenses to land a solid, explosive blow to his chest.
The last warrior rushed Jee, and when his spear thrust was blocked, he drew a short sword and kept coming. Too close to firebend, Jee retreated from the gleaming blade. It sliced his side above the hip, then slashed down his breast. He did not even feel the blood flowing, though.
Jee remembered this, the dance he had known so well as a young man fighting for his nation's glory in the Earth Kingdom. Back then, the dance had made him a successful soldier, scorching out the enemy with all the passion of his people. But years had tarnished that glory. Time had turned him surly and insubordinate, until he was sent away to follow the banished Prince into exile.
Now though, the dance beat through him as relentlessly as his own blood. Jee dropped back another step and, when the warrior slashed the air where his throat had been, he darted back in and punched him in the face. The warrior stumbled back and went sprawling on the deck. Jee advanced. He drew back his arm for the killing blow.
A hand closed over his fist and swallowed his fire like a well.
As if in slow motion, Jee looked to the side. He did not see the rope ladder, smoking but still strong. Nor could he see the men climbing up from the sailing craft below. All he could see was the familiar face of the General. He was thinner than Jee remembered, as if the steel he had kept hidden all these years had finally come back to the surface.
"General Iroh," he said, unthinking. "Help us."
The General's face did not soften and his hold did not gentle. "That is what I am doing, Lieutenant. Protect your men, and yield now."
Jee teetered on the brink of obedience. When the Dragon of the West gave an order, he was to be obeyed - because no one could match this man's legend. Once the crown prince, slayer of the last dragon, legendary hero of the war… Jee had fought under him at Ba Sing Se as a common firebender fights under the sun. Even long after the General had fallen into disgrace, many still cherished the memory of what he had been.
So it did not sink in at first for Jee that Iroh had come with the Water Tribe wolves. The awareness floated on top of his mind like a layer of scum on top of clean water. Slowly, though, he began to understand. The warriors had known how to take the ship. They had known about the prisoners. They had known Jee was in command.
"You betrayed us." His breaths came shallow, as if the strap was not sagging around his waist soaking up blood, but still tight across his chest, suffocating him slowly. "You betrayed us to the enemy!"
Iroh did not move except to blink slowly. "Calm yourself, Lieutenant."
"I don't follow the orders of traitors," Jee growled, then broke the contact between them and squared off toward the old man. His men, who had been struggling to free themselves moments before, had stilled to watch.
Iroh did not assume a bending stance. He did not even move, except to lower his hand to his side. "You're making a grave error, soldier."
"Where is Prince Zuko?" Jee demanded. "He would never stand for this kind of collusion with the enemy."
Iroh's mouth bowed downward a fraction more, but he was not the one to answer.
"Your prince is in Fire Nation waters by now. He may even have reached the capital, if the seas have been favorable."
Jee adjusted his posture to both hold his fighting stance toward Iroh and to take in Hakoda and his men, who had just emerged from below with the freed earthbenders. The chieftain stepped closer slowly, taking in the situation - his fallen men - with quick sweeps of his eyes. For an instant, they fixed on the burned man. Then his stare locked on Jee, the sole threat.
"Iroh, if you don't get him under control, I will do it myself."
"There is no need for that," Iroh said placidly, watching Jee as well. "The Lieutenant is understandably concerned for his men. They have waited here for two months for Prince Zuko to return, only to be embarrassingly caught off guard. Even surviving such a disgraceful defeat could put their loyalty into question when they one day escape."
Jee felt a bead of sweat roll down his brow, but he did not waver. It was true. Iroh's treason would taint them all. The old man raised his eyebrows and went on.
"Except, of course, that their Prince knows the character of the men who served him with such loyalty for the past five years. Now that he has ended his banishment and returned home a shining hero to his people, Prince Zuko will be able to protect them when they come under scrutiny." Iroh's eyes narrowed fractionally and his tone turned grim. "But even the crown prince cannot heal a dead man."
Jee stared stonily back at him. Behind the old man, more warriors were climbing aboard from the rope ladder, too many for him to fight alone. His men sat still, sharing uncertain sideways glances and allowing their shoulders to slump. He began to feel the sting and throb of his wounds, but the physical hurts were nothing beside the pain of this defeat.
Straightening slowly, Jee lowered his hands to his sides. Warriors rushed in at once to bind his raw wrists behind him and replace the other restraints. Jee ignored them and Iroh, in favor of watching the other warriors gather around their comrades who had fallen. There was a great deal of shoulder-grabbing and relieved grinning as they hoisted them to their feet.
"It's nothing." The man with a big burn on his breastplate coughed and brushed away some of the scorched fur trim. Then he felt at his face. "He didn't get my eyebrows, did he?"
"Don't worry, Kovu. You aren't any uglier than you were before."
The warriors chuckled - all but their leader, who was watching as the canvas strap was cinched back around Jee's chest. He came to stand beside Iroh and frowned down at the prisoners.
"Which of these men is the medic?"
"Physician Shiro," Iroh said, indicating the thin surgeon - the only man present in a sleeping gown. Shiro's narrow mustache drooped and his eyes were wide, but he raised his head at his name. Iroh went on pleasantly. "He is most capable. And, he sings a lovely baritone."
Hakoda's eyes slid sideways at the old man. "Good. After he treats the Lieutenant, he can keep everyone in the brig occupied. It's going to be crowded down there."
At the chieftain's order, the prisoners were taken below a few at a time. Jee hung his head and awaited his turn, idly watching as Hakoda formally bid farewell to the earthbenders. He clasped their forearms and wished them luck in finding the resistance and their families before the Fire Nation found them. It was the first news Jee had heard of the successful occupation.
"It is a pity," Iroh said quietly as the soldiers climbed down the rope ladder to the ship below, followed shortly by several of the Water Tribe warriors. "A squad of earthbenders would be invaluable if things do not go according to plan in the capital."
"If that happens," Hakoda said, squinting into the rising sun to watch the other ship's sails fill as it began gliding away, "I doubt seven more men would be able to save us."
Jee could see the thoughtful set of the General's face as he assessed his ally. It was not quite a sympathetic look.
"Perhaps you are right," Iroh said, turning to face the sun as well. "A wise man does not plan to fight a battle he cannot possibly win."
The chieftain said nothing, but Jee saw his knuckles whiten where he gripped the gunwale. He saw, and he knew that that was exactly what this man intended to do.
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Sokka rolled away from the thing prodding his shoulder and burrowed deeper into his pallet. The prodding didn't go away, though, and he swung an arm at whatever it was. Probably Toph, trying to get him to play another game of stones - which, really, was not such a fun game when she kept cheating.
"Sokka, wake up."
At the familiar voice, he jerked upright. Zuko drew back a step, then cast him a reproachful look. Warily, Sokka sat up on his pallet.
"You were sleeping pretty heavily for an afternoon nap," Zuko said darkly. "Late night?"
"Oh, the usual." Sokka rolled his shoulders, trying to work out the knots and make a point at the same time. "I just toss and turn on these prison pallets. But I guess you know all about things keeping you up at night." He shot a cool glance at the other guy. "How's the conscience, by the way?"
Zuko narrowed his eyes. His shadowed, blood-shot eyes. Abruptly, he looked away, a bitter frown twisting his mouth.
Sokka wrestled the urge to crow about just desserts. Something about this felt inappropriate, though, like a crack in a steel hull that could sink the ship at any second. And, while Sokka wouldn't mind seeing Zuko brought low after everything he'd done, he didn't want to see him implode while the gang was in the way. So instead, he folded his arms over his chest, propped up a knee, and leaned back against the wall, waiting. After a moment, Zuko straightened and scowled harder than before.
"We've been having a lot of engine trouble lately." His voice had regained its quiet, dangerous tone. His eyes fixed unerringly on Sokka. "I've been pretty sure it's sabotage for a while, but now I'm certain of it."
Sokka screwed up his brow in bewilderment that was mostly genuine. "Are you saying you think I did it? Because, in case you haven't noticed, I've been kind of a shut-in."
"Right. You're just sitting in an empty room, doing nothing."
"Not nothing," Sokka said with well-feigned offense. He pressed one hand to his chest. "I'll have you know I am now a master at spitting into the air and catching it in my mouth. Would you care for a demonstration?"
"I'll pass."
"Your loss."
Zuko's fists shook at his sides. "You know, you're probably right. It's pretty crazy to think that you could be involved with the sabotage. But, then again, I've personally threatened the entire machine crew over the past couple of weeks. They must think I've lost my mind, too." He narrowed his eyes. "But I haven't lost my mind, Sokka."
A chill oozed down Sokka's spine like ice down the back of his parka, but he held a level stare. "I don't know. You sound pretty crazy to me."
Zuko smiled, brief and unpleasant. "Funny. You know what else is funny? The first time you and Katara were down here, you were both demanding to see each other within a matter of days. Now, you're both as quiet as happy clam-frogs. Why is that, Sokka?"
"Maybe Katara, like me, has developed a healthy meditation routine. And hobbies. Are you sure you don't want to see my spit trick?"
"I don't want," Zuko bit out, "to see your stupid trick."
"Then why are you here?" Sokka dropped the amiable pretense and glared. "Because unless I've developed the ability to walk through walls, I obviously haven't been sabotaging your ship, and I can't see that there's any other reason for my sister's slaver to talk to me."
Zuko stared at him for a moment, strain lining his face. "I'm here because I just left an audience with the Avatar. If he said to Azula half of what he said to me, Toph would be dead right now."
Sokka felt the blood drain from his face. Last night's conversation came back to him in a rush. He'd said he believed Zuko would let Katara go - in front of Aang, who was desperate to get out of here. He should have known better than to think it would just reassure that flighty little guy.
But maybe Aang hadn't given too much away. Sokka tried to swallow his alarm and hold an unreadable expression, waiting. When he didn't respond, Zuko lurched a step closer.
"Did you think I wouldn't realize what was going on?" he barked. "Did you and your little friends think you could dangle the truth right in front of me and I wouldn't see it? How stupid do you think I am?"
Sokka didn't answer. He only looked up at Zuko, blank-faced. Zuko's good eye bulged as he went on.
"I won't just sit back and let you mock me! I'm not some weak fool!"
"No one's mocking you," Sokka said carefully. Zuko glared back as if this was an obvious lie. Sokka shrugged. "Alright, so Toph mocked you that time. She mocks everybody. What are you going to do? Kill her for being a pest?"
"What else can I do?" Zuko asked nastily. "The entire ship is made of metal. She can bend almost everything aboard."
For a second, Sokka's confidence shook. He hadn't really believed Zuko would put Toph to death, but he had already gone to extraordinary lengths to obtain the Avatar. He held Katara as a slave. Who could say where the limit might be?
Zuko watched him for a moment, then sat down facing him, forcing his fists to flatten out on his thighs. "No one can know. If this gets back to Azula, she won't hesitate to take extreme measures to prevent another incident."
Sokka squinted at him, trying to understand what was happening here. "So... you're going to...?"
"Tell no one," Zuko said through his teeth. "And you're going to shut the Avatar up."
"...I don't buy it. If what you're suggesting were true," he emphasized, "containing Toph is your only chance of keeping Aang on this ship. Since it's been historically proven that you'll throw any of us under the sled to get him to the Fire Nation, why would you now decide to do nothing to keep him from escaping?"
There was a faint smell of hot silk. "You know why."
Sokka assessed the furious twist of the other guy's face. He wanted to say that he didn't know. He wanted to say that Zuko's reasoning, as it were, was beyond the understanding of any normal human. But the truth emerged in Sokka's mind, stubborn as boulders with the sea washing against them.
Katara won't leave without him.
To Sokka's eye, the fury on Zuko's face became like snow blanketing the tundra. There was a whole ecosystem under there, hidden away. Safe.
Zuko huffed. "Look, I don't know why you're only slowing the ship down when you could just sink it. I don't want to know. I don't care. After I leave this room, I don't want to have any part at all in your plans, whatever they are. But there's something you need to know first." His jaw clenched and his spine stiffened. "Azula insists Father will want to keep the Avatar in the capital, and she's still deliberating on what to do with Toph, but… You'll be sent to the Boiling Rock."
Sokka looked askance at him, not sure how to take any of this. Instead, he focused on the practical details. "What's the Boiling Rock?"
"It's the highest security prison in the Fire Nation, Sokka. It's built on an island in a boiling lake inside a volcano, that's also an island. It's supposed to be inescapable. If you go in there, you're not coming out any time soon."
"An island inside another island?" Sokka frowned thoughtfully. "But why would Azula-"
"Actually…" Zuko shut his eyes for a second. "It was my idea. Azula wanted to keep you on hand, in case Katara tries another escape. I thought it would be safer if you were out of reach."
"Out of the way, you mean."
"Yes." Zuko frowned back at him unapologetically. "Katara has a better chance of busting you out of a prison than escaping the palace before Azula uses you to make her do something really terrible. Because she will. I can protect Katara as a part of my household, but you're just a prisoner, and you're vulnerable. It's only a matter of time before Azula exploits that."
Sokka didn't like this, but there were a lot of things Sokka didn't like. He didn't like it that he had to trust Zuko in the first place, and he didn't like it that it came easily, that he actually agreed about Azula and could see how sending him away probably wasn't an entirely sinister idea. He also didn't like Zuko referring to Katara as a member of his household.
He narrowed his eyes. "And you just had to pick the inescapable prison inside a volcano, didn't you?"
"It… seemed like a good fit. You're an important prisoner. I don't want to come across like I'm going easy on you."
Sokka watched a red spot well up on the jerkbender's good cheek. "Oh no," he said. "That wouldn't do at all."
The red spot only grew. "I'm telling you this now so that you can avoid going there completely. After we reach the capital, there will be at least a few days of ceremony and celebrations before anyone is sent anywhere. That's the time when you and Toph need to take the Avatar and leave."
Sokka sat away from the wall. "And my sister? Will you set her free then, too?"
Zuko's jaw clenched and he dropped his eyes off to one side. "She'll follow when she can."
Sokka let the words settle and watched the ugly stew of feelings he could see on Zuko's face. More than anything else, he didn't like the thought of leaving his sister alone to deal, not with Azula and the Fire Lord and the entire Fire Nation, but with this guy, specifically. No matter what she said, he could sense that she still had a blind spot that was exactly Zuko-shaped. With her new training added to the mix and her highly rational brother removed from it, any number of terrible things could happen. He couldn't leave her. He just couldn't.
Abruptly, Zuko rose to his feet. "Do whatever you want. Just tell the Avatar to keep his mouth shut."
Sokka watched him pound a fist on the door and then march out, and he wondered. Later that night, he would pull Aang aside and have a meaningful conversation about the difference between trusting someone, and trusting that someone to behave a certain way.
In the mean time, though, Sokka thought about prisons and duty and enemies who were only mostly enemies, most of the time.
