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Hey all! Sorry this took so long. I caught fail-itis for awhile there (it’s a debilitating disease which makes writers throw their hands in the air and scream, “Fail! I faaaail at everything!”) Luckily my wonderful and talented beta DustyJack helped me out. The next chapter shouldn’t take nearly as long.

OoOoOoO

Please Prince Zuko, if the Fire Nation captures you, there is nothing I can do. Do not follow the Avatar.

~ Iroh, Winter Solstice Part 2

OoOoOoO

Prince Iroh’s amber eyes took in the situation in a glance; the tied and bound Avatar and the Water Tribe girl, the unhappy captain. And the finer details: the red, swelling mark on the girl’s face, how the Avatar stood with perfect balance which left him ready to strike a blow despite his bindings. Iroh almost smiled. This unfortunate pirate captain did not know what he was dealing with, or else he would have the children restrained in more than simple hemp rope.

The captain too was making his own deductions, identifying Iroh’s sash of rank for what it was. He grinned, something that was more strained and uneasy rather than pleasant. “’Scuse us, General. I was just dealing with a couple ‘o thieves. What can I do you for?”

“I was looking for a tile to complete my Pai-Sho set,” Iroh repeated, tucking his hands in the wide sleeves of his robes. “But this interests me more. Tell me, captain, have you managed to capture the two boys as well?”

The pirate captain’s eyes narrowed, although his grin became wider. “So these be professional troublemakers, eh? No, the brats took something from me. A waterbending scroll worth at least three hundred coins--”

“Hey, you said it was two-hundred before!” the young Avatar yelled, and was promptly grabbed by the pirate by one ear which was then given a savage twist. “Ow, ow, ow!”

“Stop it!” the girl shrieked. She lunged forward, but was easily held back by two other pirates. She turned to the captain, pleading. “I’m the one who stole your scroll… and… and I’m sorry! I can get it back. I—”

“I have a different proposition.” Iroh’s calm tone cut through the air like a knife, silencing the still struggling Avatar and the laughing pirates. “These children are wanted fugitives of the Fire Nation. I will pay you the two-hundred pieces for your missing scroll, and another hundred for these two here.”

The captain seemed to consider it for a moment. “Aye, that is a generous offer, General. Very generous indeed.” But he turned his back on the prince, sliding behind the children. His hand rested loosely on the girl’s shoulder and she suddenly went very still. “But I believe a pretty thing like this will make on more on the market. My price is three-hundred for the boy and the scroll both. If you want this girl to be warming yer bed, you best be willing to pay a higher price.”

Iroh didn’t move. His expression didn’t change, but Momo was able to sense his mood. The little lemur sat up straighter, wrapping his tail securely around his neck and let out a throaty little trill. Something about the sudden coldness in those amber eyes made the captain back slightly, although his hand still kept on the girl. He hastily continued, “’Course, you can throw in that fine beastie on your shoulder there, and we can call it a deal.”

Iroh raised his hand, touching light fingers to Momo’s back. “My little companion is not for sale.” He paused, letting the tension of the haggle build. “I will pay no more than three-fifty for both children…and the collection of those deliciously scented tea-packets I smell.”

Again, the captain paused. Then his hand slipped from Katara’s shoulder (to her shuddering relief) and he gave another, businesslike grin. “You be driving a hard bargain, General. I accept, but you bringing the payment in coins. Gold coins.”

“I would expect nothing less.” Iroh did not extend a hand to finalize the deal, and the captain did not offer one. Instead, he turned to the nearest man, a beefy looking pirate with several golden hoops in his ears. “My Commander will be awaiting outside. Please, retrieve him for me and tell him to bring along the strong restraints.”

OoOoOoO

“Where are they?” Zuko asked, and then, because there was no answer either Sokka or Appa could give, he repeated it again; louder, and turning around as if expecting Katara and Aang to come bursting out of the brush at any moment. “Where are they?”

“I thought—I mean, it seemed like we outran so many of them…” Sokka had an unfocused look on his face. He was thinking back, trying to retrace every step of their mad escape. “But maybe they weren’t trying so hard.” He trailed off and groaned, scrubbing at his face with a hand. “They have to have been caught.”

“Then we’ll just have to go back.” Zuko was striding towards Appa even before he finished speaking.

The other teen nodded and followed him, absently picking up his shoulder-bag by one strap. Something fell out a gap in the stitching and hit the forest floor with a thump. He bent to retrieve it, and froze. “Oh no.”

Zuko stopped, turned, a question on his tongue. Then he saw what Sokka held. “What— wait, you stole the waterbending scroll?!”

“Why would I want a waterbending scroll?!” Sokka’s indignant voice broke in no less than three places.

And the two boys looked at each other with mirrored expression, and each saw the other make the same connections.

Sokka exploded. “That’s it! She may be a girl, but she’s cut off from ever shopping again. Ever.”

Zuko took a step back. .He seemed to be in a daze, for once the calm one in the face of Sokka who was still ranting over him. “That’s why Katara was acting so weird. She must have put it in your bag when we were looking at the weapons.”

“Great!” he snapped, flailing both his arms and the scroll. “You can just tell her how clever and sneaky she was when we return this and pirates are finished trying to hack us to pieces!”

Zuko scowled. “We can’t give it back. Those pirates probably stole it from the Water Tribe anyway. It’s not theirs to keep.” He saw the look of doubt on Sokka’s face and pressed on. “This scroll is for waterbending. It’s important to Katara and to Aang.”

“Well too bad. They’ll just have to wait until we get north to learn.”

“We can’t just—“ Zuko ran an agitated hand through his hair, trying to put into words what he felt deep in his soul. The feeling, the need to bend. Katara would have understood. He knew she felt it just as strongly. But Sokka… “Look, you just don’t get it, okay? You don’t understand how it is.”

Sokka flinched, as if he had been struck, and at once his ridiculous flailing stopped. Something had hardened in his blue eyes. He walked up until he was toe-to-toe with his younger brother. “Oh I don’t understand?”

“That’s not what I meant!”

“No, go on, tell me Mr. Bender. Tell me why learning a few fancy moves is more important than making sure your sister and your friend are safe. Do you think the pirates are just going to ask nicely to get it back? Or is it something else I’m not getting, because I can’t bend?”

Zuko narrowed his good eye. “That’s not what I meant,” he repeated again, through grit teeth.

“Yeah, well I think it was.”

Both boys glared at each other, and Zuko was first to break, crossing his arms and glaring off to the side with a sour look on his face. And off in the distance, Appa groaned, lowly. It seemed to break the tension, somehow. The same way that Katara always broke off their bickering before it could escalate too far. Only she wasn’t here, and although neither boy would admit it out-loud, they both felt her absence. Badly.

Finally Sokka gave a loud sigh and reached up to rub the back of his neck. The anger had drained away between them, leaving only awkwardness. “Yeah… well, whatever.”

Zuko just shrugged as if answering an unasked question. “I guess you’re right. About the scroll,” he added, quickly, with a swift sideways glance at his brother. “We’ll take it back to them.”

Sokka nodded in reply and turned to the giant bison. Appa dipped his great head, allowing him to climb on and take the reins, with an anxious snort as if admonishing them for taking so long about it. Zuko silently jumped to the basket-saddle, and they were off.

OoOoOoO

The night was full upon them now, moonless and dark due to the thick cloud-cover above. The only thing visible ahead were the lanterns of the fish houses, and a flashing lighthouse further out.

Sokka angled Appa in low, close above the surface of the silent bay. Neither wanted a repeat of the hide and seek against the pirates through the village, doubly as hard now with a ten-ton bison. So they flew in from the sea, eyes straining to pick out the shapes of ships along the long, dark pier – and one in particular with a deep hull and a four mast sail.

Sokka always suspected that he had the better night-sight out of the two of them, and certainly he was the one to pick up the danger first. The near total darkness made it hard to tell one thing from another at a distance, and they had both mistaken the lit running lanterns along the ship’s prow as something else – a building perhaps, or part of the pier. But Sokka was first to recognize the shape, and when he did he jerked Appa’s reigns up sharply in surprise, causing the bison to stagger into a high wave before regaining his balance.

“What’s wrong?” Zuko hissed, but Sokka was already pointing ahead.

“That’s a Fire Navy ship!”

But it was no ordinary Fire Navy ship, and Zuko’s expression went from an almost shocked stupor to a tense sort of anger. He swore, something that they had only heard Bato use and even then only when the warrior thought no one had been listening.

Sokka tugged on the reigns – gentler this time – and directed Appa to float closer, right along side the massive hull of the ship. He was fairly certain that this was a blind spot from the cabin above. And if Appa made a large splash when he finally sunk into the water to swim up to the pier, it was at least dimmed by the sound of crashing waves back on shore.

The boys dismounted, climbing quickly from Appa’s wide back onto the wooden planks. Sokka turned, putting his fingers up to his lips, and hoping the bison would understand. For his part, the beast simply rumbled and sank further into the water until only the tips of his upright horns could be seen from the level of the pier.

Zuko kept sending glares at the Fire Navy ship as if trying to burn a hull through the metal with his scowl. “How does that guy keep turning up like this?”

“I don’t know.” Sokka’s mind was already several steps ahead, analyzing the situation without prompting, as if from muscle memory. “This is bad. Really bad. But maybe Prince Iroh doesn’t know we were here yet… I mean, how often does the Fire Nation deal with pirates?”

Zuko scowled again, but said nothing. Apparently his on-again-off-again knowledge base of the Fire Nation wasn’t working that night. Sokka sighed and sank down, gesturing for Zuko to follow and keeping to the shadows. It wasn’t hard – lantern oil was expensive, and there was only one every fifty feet or so, enough to led a drunken man hopefully back from the village and to the ship, but not good for anything else.

Sokka noticed how the lanterns would dim suspiciously upon approach, but didn’t say anything.

The pirate ship was moored just where they remembered it, to Sokka’s intense relief. It also seemed to be the life of the party with men staggering this way and that, both on deck and just along the piers, flagons of amber liquid clutched in their hands. They were obviously celebrating, and Sokka just hoped it wasn’t the fact that they caught the Avatar.

Suddenly Zuko’s hand seized upon his wrist and Sokka found himself being dragged behind a large wooden pillar. Zuko had seen something he hadn’t – a bit of movement from the rampart of the ship. Both boys pressed their backs to the shadowed side of the pillar, and within a few moments they heard and felt the shiver of a well ordered march of two dozen feet.

Only when they had mostly passed did Sokka peek out, and his breath froze in his throat.

A small platoon of Fire Nation soldiers were stepping solidly in two ordered lines. Prince Iroh and that one angry looking Commander-guy with the bad muttonchops were at its head. In the middle, easily visible even in the dim light among the rust reds and bad armor of the Fire Nation, were Aang and Katara; bound head to foot in chains, shuffling along with two sharp points of broadswords sticking at their backs to ensure their cooperation.

He felt Zuko shift at his side, and Sokka grabbed his forearm hard. He met his gold eyes and shook his head once. There had to be twenty Fire Nation soldiers out there.

It was hard to remain still and quiet, safe in the shadows. The two brothers followed along the best they could, darting from behind wooden column to wooden column, keeping out of sight and waiting for a chance, a distraction to go in. Aang stumbled once in his walk– he was weighed down with at least twice the chains that had been thrown over Katara – but the nearest solider roughly hauled him back up to his feet by his collar and they continued on without another misstep.

Then they were to the Fire Nation ship, and being pushed up the ramp.

“Sokka…” Zuko growled.

The silent question seemed to almost hang in the air. Sokka closed his eyes, not able to watch his sister and his friend step disappear into the ship. “We can’t just rush in there. We’ll just get captured. We’re Katara and Aang’s only hope right now, and we have to do this right… We have to have a plan. ”

A light breeze stirred, bringing with it the sound of voices. Two figures had hung back while the prisoners were led in and were speaking quietly to one another, and if the two boys strained, they could just pick out the words.

“My helmsman report a storm blowing in from the west, General Iroh.” And Sokka recognized the voice as Commander Zhao. “If we raise anchor immediately we can be back within home waters by the end of the week.”

“No, Commander,” Prince Iroh answered. An oddly shaped lump flickered over his shoulders – that damned lemur which was always with him. “I would like two contingents of men sent out in the morning. I wish to retrieve the two Water Tribe boys as well.”

“But with the Avatar as your prisoner--!” Zhao’s voice choked off mid-sentence, as if silenced by a glare or some other reminder the other two boys could not see. When he spoke again, it was with “General, you must reconsider. You can return with the boy, now, as a legend. Any delay now—”

“Then I am charging you with making sure the boy does not escape.” Iroh replied. His voice was cold. “Those are my orders, commander.”

Interesting, Sokka thought, So these Fire Nation jerks aren’t all united. And he could also guess, very easily, why Prince Iroh didn’t want to leave yet. He turned to his brother, nodding once, but was very careful not to look him in the eye. For whatever reason, having the Avatar wasn’t good enough. Iroh wanted his nephew as well.

Zuko took a very long moment before pulling away. Together, they headed back to Appa to regroup, and to plan.

The place they chose was a high, lonely flat-topped hill which overlooked a sharp drop-off and the bay beyond. It was nearly perfect; the high spot guaranteed that it would be hard anyone to sneak up on them, and from there they could watch the running lights of the ships, make sure that the Iroh’s ship wouldn’t disembark in the middle of the night.

The brothers set up camp in brooding silence – Zuko brooding more than Sokka, and apt to snarl when the tent he was trying to set up kept getting snagged on twigs and low tree branches.

“I hate this!” Zuko snapped, to no one and everyone at all. He stood up and gave the tent peg a swift kick, sending the thing flying into the bushes.

Sokka ignored his tantrum. He was squatting down, arranging three or four sticks in a particular order, using them to mark the position of the Fire Nation ship, the plank and the pirate’s ship. But he was tired and kept blinking rapidly, passing a hand over his face. “We should take turns staying up,” he said, at last. It was the first thing he said since they arrived. “Just in case Iroh changes his mind and the ship tries to take off with the new tide.”

Zuko shot him a sour look. “What if it does? Who’s going to be able to stop a ship? Appa? It’s dark. There’s no moon – we could sneak down there right now.”

“No,” Sokka shook his head and stood. “Look, I know it’s hard but we’re just going to have to lay low right now. The only thing we have is surprise. We’re going to get just one shot at this, Zuko. You can’t just rush in. It won’t work.”

His brother shook his head, his lips pressed together in an thin, angry line. Abruptly, Sokka was reminded of their earlier argument. But, after a silent minute Zuko gave clipped nod of agreement. “Okay.” Zuko’s voice was strained, although Sokka didn’t know if it was due to worry for Katara and Aang, or some holdover from their argument before, or if it was nothing at all and he was too tired and frazzled to read anything correctly.

Sokka thought, briefly, about offering to stay up first. He had to work on a solution, a plan, a way to get Aang and Katara out of there. What would his dad do in this situation? Probably hold a war council. But he was tired. And it was hard to think when he was sore, and hungry. So he said, “Wake me up around midnight. Okay?” He didn’t wait for Zuko’s answer, figuring the other boy was probably in too bad of a mood to acknowledge him anyway. So Sokka crawled into his sleeping bag, feeling the bottom folds of the fur and cloth surround his toes like ice. It would warm up in a few minutes, though. And he was already drifting off. “G’night…” he muttered, and then a particular sleepy phrase came to him, making him grin to himself and add, “Jerkbender.”

Through half lidded eyes, he saw Zuko glance at him sharply and then a corner of his mouth ticked up in a grudging smile. That wouldn’t have happened if he was feeling angry about earlier. The argument had truly passed, and Sokka rolled over, asleep within moments.

OoOoOoO

Zuko looked out over the cliff’s edge, watching the slowly bobbing row of lights that lit the Fire Nation ship until his eyes crossed and his head bobbed, once, twice, until he jerked up suddenly awake again to find that the crescent moon had moved three finger length’s across the sky and the Fire Nation ship was still there.

He still had a few hours left on his watch. Zuko stabbed the ground with the sharp point of a twig, digging a bored little hole in the dirt. He wanted to be down there, now, fighting to free Katara and Aang -- set fire to things -- maybe confront Iroh once and for all. But he saw Sokka’s wisdom in waiting – saw it, and didn’t like it, not one bit. If either Aang or Katara were hurt because they had waited… if something were to happen…

He stood up abruptly, his skin itching and crawling. He had to do something. He couldn’t just sit around and be useless. Maybe he could take Appa back down and do some reconnaissance. Sokka slept like the dead, anyway. He would never know…

Zuko was drifting over to the bison, trying to figure out the best, quietest way of waking him up, when he caught sight of Sokka’s travel-bag. He froze, mid-step, and crossed his arms, glaring at the bag as if it held the solution to his problems. Maybe it did.

Prince Iroh had told him, on that first terrible meeting, that he firebent like a waterbender. That it made him weak. Zuko had never consciously made the decision to firebend the way he did. He didn’t know what he was doing when he was a child, or how to properly begin – and neither did Katara. They just wanted to bend, and had spent countless hours practicing and making forms up as they went along. It was hard work, full of give and take with many more failures than successes.

He wasn’t a waterbender.

But he also didn’t think firebending the way he did made him weak.

Zuko took another step closer to the bag, away from Appa and away from his rash decision to go out spying. In a moment he was glancing furtively over his shoulder to make sure Sokka was still asleep, while pulling out the scroll.

There was a hollow not very far away – a dip in the short sparse grass where he could easily keep an eye on the gently bobbing Fire Nation ship, and be out of view, as long as he kept his fire below shoulder – height. He unrolled the scroll, propping it open between two stones, and frowned, studying it. There were perhaps four actual forms, but the one depicted first looked the most promising; Water Whip.

“Okay,” he murmured, and his voice echoed hollowly in the dark air around him. “Fire whip. Looks easy enough.”

He lit a small fire out of hot brand he had taken from the camp, and stood back, widening his stance and checking over his shoulder again to the scroll, and readjusting his footing an inch to the right. Then he took a deep breath and summoned the flicking flame into a loose ball of fire between his hands.

Carefully, and after another look at the scroll to check what to do, he widened his hands, stretching the flame into a stream and sent it out. He had been aiming for a nearby stump, but the fire lasted only just past his reach before dissipating into air with a puff of smoke.

Maybe it needed to be hotter, then.

He summoned more flame, and stepped forward again, trying to make his movements graceful and fluid. The way he had seen Katara do a hundred times before…

Katara, who was probably tied up and scared out of her mind, alone on a Fire Nation ship. She should be here, practicing with him. She would know what to do. She—

The flame crackled and died between his fingers before he even sent it out.

“Oh come on! What was that?” Zuko snapped, although he wasn’t sure if he was yelling at the flames, or at himself.

He didn’t have time for this. He closed his eyes, trying to imagine how Katara would approach this, while trying not to think of Katara herself. She was the better bender out of the two of them, the most creative, the most patient. She usually understood what had to be done first, and how to do it. (If they hurt her, if they did anything to her, he would burn their ship to cinders, hunt every last one of them down --)

“ARGH!” The fire snapped out, angry, vengeful in a wobbling ungraceful arc, like a crashing wave. It fell onto the stump and immediately it was caught aflame. Zuko stood there and watched it burn for a few long moments before he raised his hand and pushed the fire back down, snuffing it out.

It took a few minutes to steady his breathing, and for his chest not to feel so tight, like there were bands around him holding in white hot flame. He stared into his small campfire and told himself that he and Sokka were going to get them out. Katara was strong. Aang was—well, not wise, but Zuko trusted him to keep her safe.

He raised his hands, bringing up another length of fire and stepped into the movements. Then he did it again when the flame failed before it could even whip. And again. And again.

Hours later, the tips of his fingers stained with soot and dull exhaustion was creeping into every sinew of his body. The flame under his command shot out in a bright ribbon. He bent his arms to the side, thinking briefly of the thick bull-kelp that lived under the sea back home, and how it would bend under the even the biggest of waves, but would not crack. The ribbon twisted to his command in mid-air, the tip flicking out on itself and striking the charred log with an audible crack.

Zuko stood, shocked, the flame running away from his fingers and dissipating into nothingness. A half sort of smile crawled up one side of his face. He had done it. A real bending form; not something made up. Real.

Katara should have been here, with him.

The smile faded, and suddenly Zuko was keenly aware of the dark night – the silence and emptiness around him. Even Sokka’s snoring couldn’t be heard from his practice area. And if Zuko cared to wake him up, he would be annoyed, not congratulatory. Bending was not something he could share with his brother, and the only person who could -- the two who really deserved to be practicing these moves were locked up, imprisoned.

Tomorrow, he thought, unaware of the fierce, determined set in his jaw as he bent down, extinguished his training-fire, and carefully rolled the scroll back up. He glanced again towards the far off ship. Dawn was still half the night away. It was time to put the scroll back and wake Sokka for the next watch.

But tomorrow, he swore, he would get his sister and Aang out of there.

OoOoOoO

“I’m so sorry, Aang.” Katara said, for perhaps the twentieth time since being thrown in the ship’s holding cell. But as many times as she said it, and as many times as he had replied that it was okay, and that they were going to get out of there… it hadn’t helped any of her guilt.

“It’s okay, Katara,” said Aang, predictably. He lay slumped in the holding cell across from her, weighted down by the heavy chains affixed to each limb. His wrists were narrow, but the shackles were still tight and he had just spent the better part of an hour squirming and tugging and blowing useless blasts of air at his bindings with no effect whatsoever. “What’s done is done.”

She looked away form him, biting her lip and bringing her knees up to her chest. She had left her coat back with Appa before they had left to go shopping, and it was cold and damp in the cell. Not damp enough for water – at least not enough she could bend, but just enough to make her miserable.

How long would it take to get to the Fire Nation, she wondered. And what would happen to Aang once they got there? Would she ever get to see her brothers again? Would her dad ever know what happened to her?

Images of them all swam up in her head, almost vividly real in the closed darkness of her cell. Dad would be so sad and worried… Sokka would be angry at her, she was sure. Angry for putting them all in danger, but he would be worried, too, and cover it up with bad jokes. And Zuko… he would be so disappointed. For stealing, for putting everyone in the danger she had, but mostly for sitting in the cell and feeling sorry for herself, for giving up.

What do I do? she thought, Aang needs me, but I don’t know how to get out of here.

If she half squinted her eyes she could imagine her brother standing there, arms crossed and his good eye narrowed. His voice would have been just a little harsh: It didn’t matter what she did. As long as she did something. As long as she didn’t give up.

“Easy for you to say,” Katara grumbled.

Her voice had been louder than she meant, and Aang raised his eyes to look at her. “Huh?”

“Nothing.” Katara shook her head, banishing the apparition from her mind. Then she got up and walked to the set of bars separating her cell from Aang’s. She meant only to check up on him, and maybe to try to apologize – just one more time – for letting him down. Her fingers curled around the bars, and she realized they were vaguely wet.

Curiously, she ran two fingers down the length of the steel from as high as she could reach down to the floor. She came away with a drop of water – just one – clinging to the tip of her finger.

She gasped, curling her fingers around it, and clutching the droplet against her breast like a talisman. “Aang! Can you scoot over here? I have an idea.”

The young monk was exhausted, but at Katara’s pleading, he shifted, dragging chains and heavy weights until he sat as near to the dividing bars as his tether allowed. His hands could only reach up to his waist and he had to nearly bend double to rub his eyes. “Wha’s’it?” he asked, thickly.

She held of her palm, and the now frozen drop of water glittered like a diamond in the low light. “See if you can bend this into one of the locks in your chains. If we freeze more of it inside the lock might break. You bend it inside the lock, and I’ll see if I can get more I—“

But she got no further than that.

There hadn’t been any warning. The thick steel inner walls of these Fire Nation ships didn’t allow for the sounds of footsteps to come through from the corridor beyond. Katara didn’t even the cell door being unlatched. Suddenly, it the door was thrown open and a large figure of a man stood in the doorway, the light from the torches outside outlining him in a menacing halo.

Katara snatched her hand back, but the man didn’t seem to notice. He strode confidently in, and as soon as he moved from the bright light she recognized him at last: Zhao, the commander who had attacked Kyoshi Island and who had tied herself and her brothers up in the Fire Temple.

Aang tried to stand – at least, his heavy chains rattled as he shifted around. They were too heavy. The Commander didn’t see him to have eye for him anyway. He strode right up to Katara’s cell and nearly leered in at her.

“I thought you should know Prince Iroh has put quite the bounty on your little companions heads. By morning every man, woman and child who can hold a spear from the village will be after them.” He paused then, holding her gaze while her heart felt plunged in ice-water. “Dead, or alive.”

She stared at him, her chest and throat too constricted to speak. All her fault… It was all her fault…

It was Aang who spoke. “What do you want?”

“It’s really very simple. Even you should be able to understand.” Zhao looked to the side, glancing at the prone Avatar with mild curiosity and then pretending to be absorbed with picking off an invisible piece of off his immaculate sash of rank. “It’s in my best interest, and that of your two friends, if I find them first. You have my word that a hair won’t be singed off their scruffy little heads. Tell me where they are and they stay alive. Or let the greedy villagers find them first.”

“No.” The word came strong from her lips, with unexpected force. She took a step to the bars, and although the commander didn’t flinch back, she felt his attention slide back to her.

“Don’t be foolish, girl. This may be their only chance.” A deliberate pause. “Don’t tell me you would rather have their blood on your hands?”

Katara flinched as if she had been struck again, and she saw his satisfied smile as the words hit their mark. But she didn’t step back. She lifted one hand, touching the blue pendant on her mother’s necklace. It gave her strength and hope. “No,” she repeated. “And you can search all you want, but Sokka and Zuko will never let you find them until they want to be found.”

His lip curled. “You’ve had your chance, little girl—“ Then he stopped, literally mid-sentence. His amber eyes flicked back and forth, and Katara watched him warily, one hand still to her necklace, the other clutching the frozen droplet of water. But the commander only smiled – an oily smile that didn’t fail to send another shiver up her spine. “Yes… yes, of course. How interesting.” His eyes refocused back on her and he gave a nod. “You have helped me, after all, water peasant.” Then, before she could respond, he spun on his heel and left the room. The door slammed with a decisive bang.

“What was that about?” Katara asked, but only got a shrug from Aang.

Her cheeks where wet. Zhao’s offer had upset her more than she wanted to admit, and she angrily tried to wipe the lingering tears away, only to think better of it. A moment later two more drops of water had joined her collection.

She squared her shoulders, forcing her fear turn into determination. Yes, this was her fault, and she was going to do everything in her power to fix it. She’d work on Aang’s chains all night, the whole journey to the Fire Nation without sleeping, if she had too.

“Aang, sit up,” she said, when the young monk put his head down for a moment to rest. “We’ve got work to do.”

OoOoOoO

Commander Zhao’s booted steps echoed sharply in the halls and corridors. He was grinning to himself, probably drawing the curious gazes of the lesser ranked officers, but at that moment he didn’t care.

Protocol and common sense demanded that the ship depart immediately to the Fire Nation once the Avatar had been locked safely in chains. Yet they had stayed with Prince Iroh insisting that that the search for the two Water Tribe boys continue. Zhao himself had been stopped from executing the firebending abomination on their last encounter at the Fire Temple. Why?

And now, it all made sense.

Zhao did not have to ask the girl which of the two boys had been named Zuko. He had thought the annoying Water Tribe firebender had been an abomination of some sort, perhaps borne out of a hybrid coupling. But Zuko? The famous, deceased Prince Zuko? The boy was around the same age… It would explain the bending talent, Iroh’s strange reluctance to leave. It more than fit.

How the boy had come to the Water Tribe, Commander Zhao could not imagine. He cared even less. Prince Iroh was obviously attempting to avert a major scandal – a member of the royal family turned traitor. Such a shame.

Such an opportunity.

The boy’s worth would only be second to capture of the Avatar in the Fire Lord’s eyes. He who defeated him and brought him in would gain the honor. A stroke of luck had granted Iroh the Avatar, but if Zhao were the one to bring in the disgraced Prince…

Zhao’s grin became wider and he laughed aloud again, letting it echo in the halls around him.

OoOoOoO

Zuko woke to a hand on his shoulder. He sat up, blinking, rubbing at his bad eye which felt dry and was making half of his world look fuzzy and indistinct. It was early – earlier than he was used too for the sun hadn’t even started to rise yet. But he recognized Sokka’s shape in the shadows, and after a few moments he saw that his brother was wet, soaked to the bone and shivering slightly in the cold pre-morning air.

Only then did Zuko register the hard patter of rain along the tent walls. Another storm must have blown in while Sokka was taking his watch.

“Take my parka,” Zuko said. “I’ll be fine for a bit without it.”

But Sokka just shook his head. He was grinning in between chattering teeth. This kind of damp cold was nothing to him, he who had known harsher conditions from the first day of his life. “I got it all figured out. We’re going to be able to get into the Fire Nation ship completely undetected right under Prince Iroh’s nose.”

“What?” Zuko paused, mid-yawn. “How?”

But Sokka just gestured excitedly for Zuko to get up. He did, still rubbing his eye, and followed him outside. Some of the coals from the fire hadn’t been completely drowned by the rain yet, and they threw flickering shadows on the ground. It had been obvious Sokka had been spending his entire watch working on this, because the now soggy ground all around the tent was covered in little diagrams, arrows, and pictures all scratched out with the sharp point of a stick. Half of them, it seemed, had been scratched out again, and although Zuko turned his head this way and that, he couldn’t make heads or beaver-moose tail’s out of any of it.

He left it up to his elder brother to explain.

“My instincts tell me that Prince Iroh is still hanging around for something – probably us or else he’d be off to the Fire Nation with Aang in tow.” Sokka said. “All we have to do is get a hold of some Fire Nation uniforms, sneak on the ship, find Katara and Aang, free them, and then escape back to shore with one of their own life rafts.”

Zuko stared at him for a moment. He wasn’t quite sure if it was because he was still waking up, or because Sokka’s plan was really that bad. “How exactly,” he asked, “are we supposed to get Fire Nation uniforms?”

Sokka grinned and the light of the fire caught the blue in his eyes, making them glint like the sharp edge of a knife in the dark. “That will be the easy part.”

OoOoOoO

Continued in PART 2!

December 2011

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Another Brother: Chapter 17

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