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Title: In His Shoes
Rating: T
Disclaimer: Avatar is not mine. Belongs to Nick.
Summery: In order to fully understand a man, you must first walk a mile in his shoes. Sokka and Zuko are going to find that out the hard way.
Spoilers: Only for season 2
*****
Chapter 1|Chapter 2|Chapter 3|Chapter 4|Chapter 5|Chapter 6
OOOOOOO
Sokka walked slowly down the street, acutely aware of how the shaped mason jars piled in his arms clinked together with every move. Iroh was out supervising the painting for the new shop, and left his nephew in charge of setting up the new Tea Maker. Unfortunately, Sokka couldn’t handle a heavy cart with one arm, and carrying the jars was a problem of its own.
“Lee!”
Hearing his alias, Sokka turned around to see a green-robed girl running over, waving at him. She was pretty with green eyes and messy brown hair pulled into two braids over each shoulder. He waited in mild surprise as she stopped short. “I heard from my father that you and your uncle got a new shop. Congratulations!” She grinned, and her large green eyes fell to the jars he was carrying. “What — oh! Your arm! Do you need help?”
“Uh,” Sokka had no idea who this girl was to Zuko or why, if she knew him, she wanted to be around him at all. But she was cute, and his arm did ach. “Yeah, sure.” He shifted his grip and she deftly relived him of three of the jars.
“I guess you won’t be juggling anytime soon with that arm,” she said, bright eyes dancing.
Sokka forced a quick laugh, mouthing “what?!” only when her back was turned. They set off walking down the street, Sokka looking for something, anything to say. It was awkward, almost like when he first found himself in Zuko’s body, being around people he didn’t know, but knew “him”. He settled for an open ended, “So… how’ve you been?”
“Good,” The girl paused, looking down at the ground, biting her lower lip. “About the other night… I’m real sorry, Lee. I—”
“No, it’s my fault.” He felt pretty confident about this, if nothing else. After all, he knew first hand how Prince Angry Freak treated people, even if his uncle still loved him. “I was a jerk, and I’m sorry.”
Sokka knew he had said the right thing when he saw a small, tentative smile light up her face. His heart beat faster, and he smiled back. She wasn’t lovely, like Yue, or strongly attractively dangerous like Suki. (The thought of her brought a stab of pain nearly as retching as when he thought of his family, but she was lost to him as well, and he buried away the hurt like all the rest.) This girl was… nice. And cute. And she wasn’t looking at the scar. “Hey,” he leaned towards her conspiratorially, and saw a slight blush on her cheeks. Oh yeah, she was so into Zuko — er, him. “Have you been to the Upper Ring?”
Some quick emotion flashed over her face too fast for him to pinpoint, then she shook her head. “No, only a couple of times with my family.”
“Well you’re in luck,” said Sokka, with an air of confidence, “Because I know all good places to go.”
“Do you?” He could tell she didn’t quite believe him, but this was a girl — for whatever reason — also thought he could juggle. So he wasn’t concerned.
“Sure do. Maybe I could take you to some of the places, you know, after we drop this off…” his voice trailed away, and suddenly he could almost hear those laughing, spiteful girls back in the old teashop…
But this girl wasn’t laughing. Her smile got even wider. “It’s a date, then.”
OOOOOOO
Zuko reached behind him, automatically resting his hand on the hilt of the broadsword, only to come up empty. He didn’t think he would need it on a trip to play Pai Sho, and had left it back with Toph and Katara — a decision he now regretted.
Despite assurances from the men of the White Lotus, he felt uneasy traveling this darkened tunnel with only Sokka’s reactions and a half-trained Avatar at his back.
To his side, Aang was reaching up to adjust the new hat he had been given — stripped purple and brown to match his and Zuko’s servant uniforms. “I hope this goes better than the last time,” said the young Avatar lightly, with a friendly elbow to Zuko’s side.
His stomach dropped. Last time?
Up ahead in the tunnel, their escort paused at a junction, waiting patiently for them to catch up. He had the only source of light— a single lit torch which Zuko couldn’t help but watch sadly. He missed fire. He missed its familiarity, its friendly warmth. Sokka’s senses, without a connection to fire and with a visual emphasis towards the darker blues and blacks, felt colorless and almost dull.
“These tunnels have been used by the Order for many centenaries.” Their escort spoke softly, his voice full of pride. “It is said that their original purpose was to provide a route for palace slaves to come meet with their families on the outside, in the sixth century.” His eyes then flicked towards Aang. “More recently, Avatar Kyoshi walked these tunnels to see the Earth King. She then negotiated a treaty to stop the great riots of Ba Sing Se.”
“Wow.” Aang’s head twisted this way and that, taking a new interest in the walls around him as if he could recognize them from a past life. Zuko wondered uneasily if he could. It was just another reminder that this was no mere boy next to him.
The escort nodded. “Indeed.” And he said no further until they came to another junction. He paused, and Zuko thought they had finally reached their destination. But the escort simply held his torch up, illuminating blackened sooty walls. “This is all that is left after the great seven-day battle during the war for the waterways. Earth Kingdom armies and Fire Nation soldiers,” he paused, and Zuko mentally braced himself waiting for an insult to his country. But the man’s next words surprised him. “They fought bravely against the attacking Water Tribe bandits.”
“Wait, what?” Zuko barked, looking at him like he was crazy. Fire Nation was fighting with the Earth Kingdom? Against Water peasants?
The man looked away for a moment, as if to sooth insult, and Zuko hastily remembered which body he was in.
“That was some five hundred years ago,” continued the man, then he turned away. “Moving on.”
Zuko hesitated, looking for one last moment at the charred wall. If Sokka’s night vision was anything to go by, those long-dead firebenders would have had a disadvantage here in this dark tunnel. Closed in, cut off from Agni’s power and fighting people who could see better — Zuko felt a shudder roll through his body. He also felt a warm sense of pride; something he realized he hadn’t felt in a long time when thinking of his Nation.
Aang and the escort were getting ahead of him, and he hurried to catch up.
Presently they came to a third junction and this time the flickering torch-light illuminated a thin ladder which ascended to the ceiling. “This is as far as I can take you. The latter leads to a secret entrance to the inner palace. It opens to the office for the Head of the Cultural Authority.”
“Long Feng!” hissed Aang.
The escort nodded. “You must be very careful. The Order wishes you well, Avatar.” He then turned to Zuko and held out his hand, palm up. Thinking quickly, Zuko did the same and was rewarded by the escort’s slight smile. “The White Lotus closes with the setting sun, brother, but will open again with the brand new day.”
That was just the type of crazy metaphor that Uncle would say, and Zuko was practiced enough by now to show no surprise towards it. “Thank you, brother.”
With a final nod, the escort turned and walked back in the direction from which they came.
There was a beat as Aang and Zuko watched him go before the Avatar turned towards him “Sokka, you know some crazy people.”
“You can say that again.” said Zuko, watching the flickering light of the escort’s torch disappear down the tunnel.
Aang grinned impishly. “Sokka, you know some crazy people.”
He was glad it was dark and Aang couldn’t see him roll his eyes. Grasping the cool metal ladder, he tested his weight. It held, and he quickly climbed. The top was capped with what Zuko recognized as almost a port-hole doorway like that of his old battleship. It took only a quick jerk to unscrew the lock. Carefully, he lifted away the top, glancing right and left to see if they were alone. As far as he could tell, they were. He slid the rest away and cautiously climbed out.
At first, Zuko thought that the escort had been mistaken and that they had somehow stumbled into the palace library. He was in the middle of a room, surrounded by row upon row of high reaching cabinets that extended nearly to the ceiling. The faint smell of old leather and rotting paper tickled his nose. But instead of books, the cabinets were backed with scroll after scroll in neatly arranged order. He looked around in wonderment… the size and scale of the place made the Dragon Library at the Fire Palace look almost tiny in comparison.
“All clear,” he whispered.
With a sweep of air, Aang latterly leapt out of the hidden floor doorway. Looking around, his jaw dropped in surprise. “This is Long Feng’s office? This looks more like the Spirit Library!”
“I guess.” Zuko reached towards the closest shelf and pulled out a long scroll. Unrolling it, he scanned the contents.
Name: Phong, Li
Age: 35
Occupation: Construction (Former Painter)
Location: Lower Ring, Second Quarter, 112th district – Apartment 107
Suspicious Activities: Dai Li agents recovered one painting depicting Fire Nation armies attacking outer walls. Painting was immediately destroyed, and offender was taken to Lake Laogai for reeducation.
Family: Wife Ta Lu, no children
Zuko grabbed another file, this one for a woman named Ping, Hoshi. It was much the same, with a brief status of the person’s name, age, location and their “Suspicious activities.”
He lowered the scrolls. “This is an archive.” His blue eyes gazed the room, taking the horror of it all for the first time. It felt like the bottom had dropped out from under him… each of the thousands and thousands of scrolls represented a person. “They have to have records of everyone in Ba Sing Se in here.”
Aang shivered. “They probably have a whole lot of records on us, then.”
“If they do, I want to see them.” Or more specifically, he wanted to see if there were any records on him. He pointed to the left, “You look that way, I’ll go this way.”
With a nod, the young Avatar did what he was told and started to scan the shelves.
Zuko’s started the isle at a walk that quickly became a full out run. His heart felt like it was trying to thud its way out of his chest. He ran past the L’s, knowing that there were a million Lee’s. Besides, didn’t have anything to worry about if they just had something under that name.
Finding the letter he was looking for, he skidded to a halt, fingers dancing around the scrolls as he scanned for the right one. To his surprise, there was a special section reserved under his last name. He had hoped that the Dai Li had only an interest within the city, and not the Royal Family.
Then he found the scroll, helpfully labeled: Iroh (General) Zuko (Prince)
He snatched it out and unrolled it. Uncle was listed first.
Name: Iroh (AKA: Dragon of the West)
Age: 65 (Approx)
Occupation: Tea Server-
But that was as far as Zuko got, for Aang was calling, “Sokka!” in a loud, excited voice a few rows over. Giving a low curse, he ripped the parchment from its rollers and quickly folded the paper before stashing it in his servant’s tunic.
Then, taking breaths that would have calmed the fire inside in his own body, but which did nothing at all for him now, he jogged over to join the Avatar. “Keep it down!” he hissed, and saw that Aang was kneeling by a open wooden chest.
The monk glanced up at him with wide eyes. In his hand, he clutched an opened scroll. “They’ve been intercepting our letters! There’s some kind of Guru who wants to meet me at the Eastern Air Temple. He says he can help me master the Avatar State!” He dug around the contents of the chest, coming up with a couple more scrolls. “And here’s something for Toph, and—” Aang broke off, reading the label before handing it to Zuko. “It’s an intelligence report for the Southern Water Tribe!”
Zuko took the scroll, only because he knew Aang would expect him too, trying to force a look of excitement on his face. “It says that there’s a fleet of ships in Chameleon Bay, lead by Chief Hakoda.”
“Is that your father?”
“I—” he honestly didn’t know. Luckily, he was saved from an answer by the squeak of an opening door-hinge on the other side of the office.
Zuko and Aang acted quickly. Loosening the parchment from the wooden rollers like he had done with his own record, Zuko stuffed them quickly into his pockets while Aang quietly closed the chest and blasted it back to the top shelf with a bend of air.
“What are you doing here?!” snapped an aged, cranky voice.
The two boys froze, and then turned around, meeting the unwavering gaze of a strangely familiar face. “Hey, aren’t you the warehouse janitor?” asked Aang, before Zuko could elbow him in the side and shut him up.
But Sweepy the janitor just glared at the both of them. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, young man. I’ve been working peacefully in this Palace for going on twenty years — and not a single vacation yet! Now,” and the lines around his crinkled mouth tightened, “why are you here and not at the banquet like the rest of the servants?”
“We were headed that way!” Aang said, and Zuko nodded his head vigorously. “Just as soon as we were done, ah—”
“—dusting the records.” Zuko muttered, out of the corner of his mouth, remembering many times when he had been sent to do the same as punishment as a child.
“Yeah, dusting the records!” Aang’s grin was nothing but innocent.
Old Sweepy seemed less than taken by their story, but there was a dead, incurious sort of air in his eyes and after a moment of staring at the two boys, he nodded his head. “Well, you’re needed in the banquet hall, now. Off with you!” Then he turned away, grabbing a broom from a shadowy corner to start his work.
Zuko and Aang didn’t wait for him to change their mind. They sped out of there, glancing behind them only when they were safely in the hallway and out of earshot. The Avatar turned his gaze at Zuko. “Do you think…” he didn’t finish, but Zuko knew where he was going with it. Sweepy was brainwashed by the Dai Li. They had suspected it before, but knew it now. The man hadn’t even recognized them.
“Yes,” he answered tightly. He wanted to say more, perhaps that all of the servants here had undergone brainwashing. It would make them convenient slaves. But something made him hold back, a flicker of guilt wanting to spare something of Aang’s innocence.
There was the sound of people approaching, and Zuko knew they didn’t have much time. “The Earth King’s rooms should be near the center of the palace.” At least, if this was anything like his own. “Let’s go.”
OOOOOOO
Jin was smiling, and Sokka found that he was growing to like that smile very much.
After dropping off the last pieces of his invention to at The Jasmine Dragon, they found Iroh, still supervising the last bit of painting. The old General had greeted the girl warmly (where, conveniently, Sokka learned her name), and when Jin turned her back, Iroh pressed a silver piece into Sokka’s palm with a wink. He wanted his nephew to take the girl out and have a good time.
So he did.
It was easy to laugh around her, he found. He hadn’t had the chance to laugh or smile or be himself — literally — for days. Now he could
They went to the park, and caught play that was being held by a large water fountain. The actors were bad, but the jokes were good (and Sokka stored some away for his own use, later). And after a few hours he stopped looking at Jin and seeing the sad, strong gaze of Yue, or the quicksilver intelligence of Suki… he just saw Jin, and the sincere compassion in her green eyes.
And then, as if the Spirits themselves wanted to make this day even better, he caught a familiar scent on the wind. Sokka brightened. “Seal jerky!”
Jin blinked in surprise. “What?”
But Sokka took her hand into his own and excitedly pulled her over to a nearby vendor who had slabs of the brown, gooey meet on rotating hooks. “Seal jerky,” Sokka explained, as if that said it all. In his mind, it did. “It’s the best stuff ever.” He turned and ordered two pieces, handing one to her. “It’s my favorite. I used to have it all the when—” he broke off, hiding the sudden searing in his chest by biting into the jerky.
“When you were traveling with the circus?” she filled in, taking a tentative sniff of the stuff.
“The… circus, yeah.”
Looking doubtfully at the meat, Jin took a small bite. “Hmm… it’s salty. Like Water Tribe food.”
“It is Water Tribe food.” He corrected, and took in a breath, about to tell her how the men would go seal hunting twice a year, and then the whole Tribe would come back and pack the meat in salt to keep it from spoiling. Because even in the cold poles, meat could spoil. He had joined the hunt, once, before his father had left, but… he could tell her none of it. He was Zuko… or Lee, now. And his pale skin, and his gold eyes, spoke of nothing about the Water Tribe. So instead of telling her about it, he answered blandly, “This is okay, but you should really have it fresh.”
Jin didn’t share his enthusiasm for the meat but politely ate anyway. There was a bridge nearby, arching over a turtle-duck pond. They walked along it, stopping in the middle to lean against the railing and look down into the murky depths of the pond.
Their reflections looked back at them. A cute, innocent earth-peasant along side a pale boy with a quarter of his face in a permanent glare. Sokka stared at his reflection, really stared at it, and had to resist the urge to reach up and touch the scar. How had Zuko gotten it anyway? Jin would probably want to know, someday. And Sokka did, too.
“It’s pretty,” Jin remarked, and Sokka glanced at her in surprise only to realize that she was looking towards the setting sun.
“It sure is.” Daringly, he laced his fingers in with hers. Her sudden smile made him blush, and he glanced down at the water towards their reflection —
—and saw the wide-brimmed hat of a Dai Li agent behind them.
Sokka whipped around and caught the startlingly familiar face of the Dai Li agent he had tricked a few days ago in the tunnel. He made a move to throw up his good arm, but the agent was ready for him and punched him in the gut with one rockfisted glove. Sokka wheezed, hunching over.
Jin screamed.
Footsteps echoed on the bridge, and Sokka tried to straighten up, but his hands were being hauled behind his back. With a crumbling sound, they were encased in stone. More Dai Li agents had surrounded them from either side of the bridge. One grabbed Jin roughly, also forcing her arms behind her.
“No!” Sokka gasped, dawning horror masking even the pain of his broken arm. “No! She’s got nothing to do with this!”
The Dai Li agent, the one that Sokka had knocked out a few nights ago, laughed. “No? Your little girlfriend is in the presence of a known firebender.”
There was a beat of silence as Sokka looked at Jin, and she looked at him. Mouth parted in shock, she shook her head. Then a black hood was forced over her head, and one on Sokka, and there was only darkness.
OOOOOOO
If Zuko wasn’t sure that the Fates had something against him before, he was fairly certain now.
He and the Avatar walked down the hall, trying to look as nonchalant as possible when they were approached by not one but three surly looking Dai Li agents. “What are you doing out here?” One, in the middle of the trio, barked. “Don’t you know that the banquet is the other direction?”
Zuko’s mind stuttered to a halt. He thought about just simply punching one of them and telling Aang to make a run for it, but the Avatar was quicker with improvisation and stepped forward, a peaceable smile on his face. “Oh yeah,” he chirped, “we were just headed that way…”
The look the Agent gave him clearly said he didn’t buy it. “Excellent,” he said with a small flick of his wrist that carved a circle in the floor underneath the boy’s feet. The circle of stone rotated and within a few seconds they were standing in the opposite direction. “We were needed there as well.”
Zuko and Aang shot each other a quick look, and the message passed clearly between them. Play along.
The Dai Li agents led them to a doorway they had passed a little bit ago, and pushed them in with a snicker. Suddenly, the two boys found themselves in a busy, hot, noisy kitchen. People were running in every direction, calling out orders over one another and moving food and plates back and forth. The sound was almost deafening.
At once, someone grabbed Zuko’s arm. “You!” a voice barked, and Zuko glanced up to see a man with thick eyebrows staring at him with a tall chef’s hat on his head. “Get this apron on, and get out there! They’re waiting for their drinks.”
And so, within the space of thirty seconds, Zuko found himself doing something he would never thought he would do again – serving tea.
“This is ridiculous,” he grumbled under his breath, as he bent to pour.
“Excuse me?” asked a woman nearby, a fan to her mouth.
“Green or Spice tea, M’am?” he asked, plastering a wide smile on Sokka’s stupid face.
After he was done pouring, he went to the next table and took a casual look around for the first time. The room was big — bigger than at least two of the Fire Lord’s receiving room combined. Long tables and chairs filled the room, and the polite murmur of conversation could be heard over the various servants bringing tea and starters. He could see Aang with a plate of sushi about twenty feet away…
… and nearly every other head was covered by the wide green brim of a Dai Li helmet.
Zuko’s blue eyes widened, and he looked towards the front dais for some kind of explanation. The title banner waved slightly, proclaiming this as a graduation dinner for the newest class of Dai Li agents.
The fates definitely had something against him. Personally.
Someone signaled him from another table, and after swallowing hard, he made his way over. On the bright side, the Earth King himself might show up for the graduation. If he or Aang could get up to the high table, they might have a chance…
A hush fell over the crowd, and at once every eye was at the dias.
Zuko’s mouth went dry, and the hand not under the teatray clenched. Long Feng, the head of the Cultural Authority, the man responsible for Jet’s death, was standing at the dias, surveying the crowd through half lidded eyes. He looked like a basking Komodo Dragon about to strike. Zuko turned himself away, pretending to listen to an order to avoid his sweeping gaze.
A moment later, Long Feng spoke, “High citizens of Ba Sing Se, I welcome you on this day as we celebrate the accomplishments of these twenty men,” he nodded towards the front table where a group of young Dai Li sat, garbed in honorary dress robes. “These new agents will join a established institution that has kept peace and harmony within our walls for hundreds of years. As many of you know, the Dai Li were first established after the great Riots of Ba Sing Se. Avatar Kyoshi herself trained the first of us, and we have strove to—”
There was a sharp yelp and a tinkle of broken china. All eyes on the room swept to the back corner, and Zuko nearly groaned aloud.
Aang had apparently dropped some bowls he was carrying, spilling soup all over a man with a long mustache and red robes. “Sorry!”
Zuko glanced back towards Long Feng, hoping the man would continue on with his speech, but his half-lidded eyes were fixed only on the Avatar. Clearly, he recognized him, even under the servant’s uniforms.
Zuko didn’t think. Aang hadn’t even taken notice, still apologizing to the man in red robes and now awkwardly trying to wipe food off of a lady’s dress. “AANG!” he yelled, “RUN!”
“Dai Li!” snapped Long Feng, and instantly two hundred agents bolted to their feet. “Seize the Avatar and his companion!”
Zuko grabbed his tea pot, and threw the contents in the face of the nearest agent. With a vicious kick, he knocked the screaming man in the way of three others.
Instantly, the banquet hall was in pandemonium. Ladies were screaming, Dai Li were calling out orders left and right, and real servants were up turning chairs in order to get under tables for safety.
Wishing once more he had his fire, Zuko ran towards the back door, knowing that it was his best chance to escape. A couple of agents made a wild grab for him, but Sokka’s reflexes were wily, and what Zuko couldn’t accomplish with sinewy grace, he could shamelessly duck, weave and strike. It worked surprisingly well.
A wall of rock erupted from nowhere right in front of the door, rising too quickly in his path to keep from hitting it. Instantly, his arms and legs were encased in unforgiving rock, pinning him. Zuko cursed, wiggling against the bonds, trying to break free. Facing the wall as he was, he could not see if Aang had escaped, but from the shouting and whoosh of air, he guessed the monk was still in the fight.
Suddenly something cool and sharp pressed against the back of his neck, and Zuko held himself very still.
“AVATAR!” Long Feng’s shout had strength enough to carry across the chaos of the room, and as the man was standing right next to Zuko, his voice was deafening. “Surrender yourself!”
The knife’s edge pressed into the back of his neck, and Zuko grimaced. He thought he knew what was going to happen next, and while part of him was relived (after all, Long Feng had recently killed before) the other part railed against it. Don’t give up! Take a hostage you idiot! Don’t ever—
“I surrender!” yelled Aang, and sure enough the crashing stopped and the gale of wind subsided to a low whistle. “Don’t hurt him! I surrender!”
The stupid… sentimental little fool.
Later on, Zuko would wonder if he was now even with Aang, after he saved him from Admiral Zhao as the Blue Spirit so long ago.
OOOOOOO
Jin was weeping softly in the corner of their cell, and Sokka officially felt like the biggest jerk in the world. They had been released of their bindings and thrown a cell together. Immediately, Sokka had searched for a weakness, but it was a metal cage — impossible to burn and too strong to try to blast through.
Nor were they alone. He and Jin were sharing one cell, but looking out Sokka could see rows upon rows of other cells to the right and left, and floors of those as well, all stacked on one another. This was a vast prison, and he couldn’t see an immediate way out.
Jin let out another muffled sob, Sokka felt a lump grow in his throat. “I’m so sorry, Jin. I… I’m going to get us out of here. I just have to think of something.” Gripping the cool metal bars, he rested his forehead against the bars. He should have known that the Dai Li agent wouldn’t just forget about him. He should have calculated for it, but so much else had been on his mind…
“Maybe…” An idea occurred to him and he turned around to face the girl, mulling it over. “Maybe you could act sick and then when the guard comes — wham!” he punched one fist into his palm, “I knock him out and we escape and…” And what? They fight one hundred Dai Li guards without weapons and with one of his arms broken? Jin wasn’t Suki. She wasn’t a fighter, and the vaguely frightened look she was giving him through tear swollen eyes confirmed that.
“Is it true?” Jin’s hands were in her lap, fingers clutching her own sleeves so hard that her knuckles were white. “What they said, is it true?” She didn’t give him time to answer as a new thought had her suddenly on her feet. “Is that how you lit the lanterns by the fountain? You were firebending?!”
“What?”
“No! Don’t you dare lie to me! Not right now!”
Sokka stared at her for a moment, at her beautiful tear-streaked face, her eyes full of hurt. His shoulders slumped. There was nothing he could say to her that would be the truth. So he said nothing, turning again to the bars to see if maybe there was some imperfection in the metal he could take advantage of.
A cold silence fell between them, and the couple of times he glanced at her he saw that both her arms and legs were crossed and she was looking resolutely in the other direction.
“Is your name even Lee?”
The question came out of nowhere. With his back still to her, he closed his eyes. Slowly, he shook his head. “It’s… kind of a stupid alias anyway.”
She barked out a laugh that was anything but amused. “And the circus?”
He cursed Zuko from the bottom of his heart. That was absolutely the worst cover story he had ever heard in his life. “No.”
“Who are you?” It was a plea more than anything else, and he turned to see her staring at him, bottom lip trembling.
“My name—” he stopped, then shook his head again, a low unamused laugh bubbling up from somewhere inside of him. “My name is… Sokka.”
The word felt strange on his lips, but even as he said it, some kind of knot he wasn’t aware of unbound in his heart. “I come from the Southern Water Tribe down in the South Pole. My dad’s name is Hakoda, and my sister, Katara, is a Waterbending Master.”
And I am Sokka, he said again in his mind, and it felt good.
Jin was staring. She could hear the truth in his words, but Sokka knew that her eyes were telling her a completely different story. “But…” she said, tentatively, “you’re a firebender.”
“Yeah. Well,” he didn’t have an explanation for that, at least not one he could tell her, so he sort of shrugged. “I’m not a very good one.”
“And your uncle Moshi? Is he… from the Water Tribe too?” She sounded very doubtful at her own words, and he had to chuckle.
“No, he’s Fire Nation. And he’s… yeah, I guess he is my uncle.” Sokka hadn’t really thought of it before, but as he said it, he realized it was true. The old man had grown on him. Somewhere along the line he had stopped thinking of him as the General. The enemy. And started thinking of him almost as if he was another member of his Tribe, as family.
Jin sat still for a long moment, looking like she was trying to take this all in. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she said, at last. “I would have kept your secret. I wouldn’t have told anyone.”
“I know.” He couldn’t look at her. “I’m sorry.”
OOOOOOOO
“Maybe if I could just twist this here…” Zuko grunted, pulling on one of the steel manacles so hard that the cold steel bit into the calluses of Sokka’s fingers. “you can wiggle out…”
Aang pulled his right arm as hard as he could, straining from the effort. But the thing stead fastly refused to slip over his wrist. Not without dislocating his thumb first. Setting his jaw, Zuko gave another final tug, but it was too much. “Ow, ow… ow!” Aang gasped, and Zuko had to stop.
The former prince cursed, whipping around to kick viciously at the bars of their cell. He was useless, completely useless. An insult highlighted by the fact that the Avatar had been put into tight bonds to keep from bending, and he had been left free to roam around the cell. After all, what harm could a nonbender do? He kicked at the bars again so hard that his toes smarted.
“Sokka, it’s going to be okay!”
He turned to look at Aang. There he was, each limb tightly bound by restraining chains anchored to the wall, so tight that he could hardly move, and he was comforting him.
Zuko felt some of his frustration drain away. “I know. I just wish—” He didn’t finish, because there were so many things to wish for. Too many.
The monk offered up a tentative smile. “Besides, Katara and Toph are still out there. We’ve been here for hours. They have to know something’s up.”
Zuko gave a curt nod, but wasn’t going to hold his breath on the chances that a Waterbender and a 12 year old blind girl could somehow locate them, fight an army of Dai Li, and then break them out. He had seen them fight first hand against him, and under the lake, but no one was that powerful. No, Zuko knew better than that. He and Aang were on their own.
Once again he glanced at the Avatar’s restraints, uncomfortably aware how similar they were to the ones in his dream the other night. The bonds were tight, but a firebending master could probably superheat the small space of air between skin and manacle, causing a blast that could set him free. He was fairly sure Azula could do something like that, if she wanted. The problem was that the explosion would very well injure as well. He shouldn’t care, but the last thing he wanted was Aang to get burned.
With a sigh, he turned once again to the bars. Apparently, the Dai Li had a specialized prison not far away from the palace. His and Aang’s cell were set apart from the others, of course, being special “guests” of Long Feng. But Zuko had gotten a glimpse of the rest of the prison, and had guessed that there were at least four levels and too many cells to easily count.
An image of Joo Dee’s blank smile swam up in his mind and he shuddered.
Again Zuko turned, and saw that Aang had his head cocked to the side as if listening to something only he could hear. Abruptly his grey eyes snapped into focus, and he grinned. “Hey, Sokka! Take off my shoe!”
“What?”
“I think I can hear something… well, not quite hear, but I need to feel the ground using earthbending.”
“Aang, you can’t earthbend metal!” At least, he was fairly sure that he couldn’t.
“No, but it’s a conductor. C’mon, Sokka, please? I can’t do it myself.”
The Avatar probably didn’t mean to play on Zuko’s slowly growing sense of guilt, but worked anyway. Giving him a completely disgusted look, he knelt down and unlaced the shoe on his right foot and took it off before standing with a cocked eyebrow as if to say, “well?”.
Aang ground his bare sole into the floor and closed his eyes. He looked like he was almost mediating, and it was nearly three minutes before he reopened them. “There’s… something going on up at the surface. Something big. A lot of crashing.”
Was this how Toph was able to “see” her away around? Zuko looked towards the blank steel ceiling, but of course saw nothing. Even if he was connected to his element, he doubted he would have been able to notice anything. “Do you think…?” his eyes met Aang’s and he saw the hope lit within. Clearly, he thought that it might be a rescue in progress.
“It might be a construction project or something.” Zuko said, crossing his arms. But he didn’t really have the heart to extinguish the hope in the Avatar’s eyes, so he dropped it.
“So what do we do now?” asked Aang.
Zuko could only shrug. He looked around for inspiration, and saw only blank walls and steel bars. “I don’t know… think about our place in the universe?”
Aang snorted, and for some reason Zuko found himself smiling. It wasn’t even meant to be a joke, and wasn’t that funny, but something about their situation required an outlet. Here he was, trapped in a cell with the Avatar of all people, and he was asking for his help. It was all so… stupid. But he couldn’t stop laughing.
Within a few moments Aang was hiccupping in laughter, and Zuko was chuckling Sokka’s high-pitched, easy laugh.
“Well, I am most certainly glad that the Avatar is enjoying himself.”
The smooth, cultured voice instantly cut their laughter short. Long Feng stood behind the bars to their cell, hands clasped behind his back, flanked by no less than five Dai Li. At the minister’s nod, one of the agent’s yanked the cell door open and they stepped in. Without thinking about it, Zuko got to his feet, and stood just in front of Aang, as if to shield him. The kid was bound and helpless, after all.
“I will admit, I didn’t expect you to be nearly this persistent,” continued Long Feng. He stepped forward with casual grace. “I would have thought that you would have fled with your bison. Yet, here you are.”
Aang shifted in his chains, looking like he was dying to create an airblast. “You can’t keep doing this to the people of Ba Sing Se.” he snapped, “They need to know the truth!”
“Ah, the inner workings of a child never ceased to amaze me. You see good and evil in such black and white terms, but no matter.” Long Feng inclined his head, as if brushing off the annoying question of a pupil. Suddenly his cultured tone became hard. “Where are your two female companions, hmm? We searched the entire palace, and I do hate surprises.”
“We’ll never tell you!”
“No, I don’t suppose you would.” Unclasping his hands, Long Feng flicked his wrist casually and before Zuko could move he found his arms grabbed by two Dai Li. “But I’m sure this one will.”
Zuko growled, trying to lurch away, but the two agents held him fast.
“No!” Aang yelped, his grey eyes wide, scared. He strained forward, but the restraints held him steadfast, unable to move, unable to bend.
Again Long Feng stepped forward. He was within a hand’s breath of the Avatar, and he leaned down, as if savoring the moment. “Your pretty female companions will be excellent Joo Dee’s, and I’ll have this one work the prison. Every day you will see him and be reminded about how you failed. Ba Sing See was too strong for you, young Avatar.”
Then he stood up, and made another gesture to his waiting agents, and suddenly Zuko found himself being dragged away. “NO!” He struggled, trying to turn out of their grip, calling without knowing why, “AANG!”
But then with another push he was taken out of Aang’s sight. He could hear the young Avatar yelling, the words lost in the echoes of the stone chamber, but then they rounded yet another corner and that was gone as well.
“No!” Zuko felt the sharp edge of panic hit him, and he twisted again in the Dai Li’s grasp. “You have no idea what you’re doing! I… I demand that you release me at once!”
All he got was a small chuckle from Long Feng. After all, it was not imperious demand of Zuko, Prince of the Fire Nation. To his eyes it was just the whining voice of Sokka the Water Tribe peasant.
Suddenly a Dai Li agent, red in the face with exertion, rounded the corner. “Long Feng, sir!” he made a hasty bow, but was up at once, breathless. “Sir, there’s been a problem. There’s…” his eyes darted left and right and he bent forward, whispering something in the Minister’s ear.
Zuko could not hear what was said, but he didn’t miss the way Long Feng’s eyes flashed. “I see,” said Long Feng in a slow drawl that was only betrayed by the way the muscles in his shoulders tensed. Abruptly, he turned to the Dai Li holding Zuko. “Take him down to the chamber immediately. I don’t care if his mind is destroyed in the process; I will have everything he knows. Go.”
The images of Joo Dee and Sweepy and Jet flashed in his mind, and Zuko wanted to howl in fear. He threw himself against his captors, a raging demon fighting, twisting, scrabbling against each step. The agents grip on him was like iron and they forced him down the hall, past rows upon rows of cells. Zuko caught flashes of pale faces staring at him from behind bars. He saw eyes of pity, heard a couple of calls. The prisoners knew what was going to happen to the boy in the grip of the Dai Li. And they knew that one day, it would be them to take that walk.
“NO, NO, NO!” It couldn’t end this way! He had lost everything; his throne, his honor, Uncle, his own body… and now he was about to lose his very mind. “NO!... Please! NO!”
The Agent’s pushed him along, step by step, heedless of his cries. They had heard others, before. Much sadder stories then this.
They passed into a dimly lit hallway with flickering torches and Zuko strained towards them, instinctively seeking the fire. But it flickered on, unchanged and unmoved.
Finally they entered into a room and Zuko was thrown roughly into a hard wooden chair. He leapt up in a moment, delivering a couple of quick palm strikes to the face of the Agent closest to him. But his partner was able to overpower him and shove him down into the chair again. This time rock restraints covered his wrists and legs, keeping him there. The door slid shut, sealing them in; and sealing all chance for hope, out.
“The brat broke my nose!” one of the Agent’s exclaimed.
“Serves you right for taking your hands off the prisoner.” The other remarked. “Load the lamp already.”
A clack of spark rocks and suddenly a lamp in the middle of a round rail flickered to light. Zuko turned his head away, squeezing his eyes shut. A moment later his head was turned forward again, forcefully held by a circle of stone restraints.
“Calm down,” said the agent in charge. His voice was soft, surprisingly pleasant, and behind him the bright lamp started to rotate, following a circular track around and around. “This doesn’t have to hurt. I want you to just and listen to the sound of my voice. Let your mind become blank… let your thoughts flow carelessly away, downriver. ”
And although Zuko had squeezed his eyes shut as tight as he could, he still saw the light of the lamp moving in a circular direction, bright against his eyelids. Intoxicating.
OOOOOOO
