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OoOoOoO
By the time the first sliver of sunlight had crested over the east horizon, Sokka and Zuko were back among the buildings and alleyways of the little fishing village. The residents themselves were beginning to stir – good fishing waited for no man – and soon even the rain-soaked air was thick with the scents of woodsmoke and cooking. It was a painful, gut-cramping reminder to the two boys that they hadn’t eaten since yesterday afternoon.
But there was nothing to be done about it. The rain was really falling now, pouring down in thick drops and making them wish that they hadn’t left their oil-skinned parkas back with Appa. But heavy jackets wouldn’t fit under uniforms. They ducked in the alleyway nearest to the piers where they could have the best view of the Fire Nation ship, avoiding sheets of runoff from the nearby rooftops.
They didn’t have to wait for long. With the lightening of the sky, and in the grey air they could soon see figures in red armor strolling along the top-deck, checking the mooring and doing basic chores. A few minutes later, the rampart lowered and five or six other figures streamed out in full Fire Nation armor.
The men were carrying something – scrolls, orders to be sent out, perhaps. It didn’t matter. Zuko felt Sokka’s tension as the soldiers peeled off in different directions, one heading right past their hiding place. The two boys crouched low, Sokka’s hand on his whale-bone machete, Zuko barehanded. They would have to be quick, and above all, silent. If the solider alerted the others…. If he was able to summon help…
The tension in their frames tightened as the man drew nearer, until he was right there – barely three steps away from their sheltered hiding place – and none the wiser. Zuko leapt, his legs contracting as if they were tight springs finally set loose. He grabbed the man from behind, hand clasped tightly over his mouth to keep him from shouting. And with a wrench of strength borne by adrenaline, pulled him back into the alleyway.
But this man was a solider. He let go of the scrolls, setting them loose and rolling along the wet cobblestone ground, and grabbed Zuko’s arm and doubled forward. He flipped the hapless boy over his back and into a pile of empty wooden fish-crates.
Sokka was there in an instant, swinging the base of his club at the man’s head to knock him down, but hitting his shoulder instead. The man snarled, and if he were a firebender Sokka would have been done, but they had luck on their side. Sokka was grabbed, kneed painfully in the stomach with enough force to leave him wheezing.
Zuko looked up to see the solider reaching behind himself, his quick fingers unbuckling the sheath to reveal a wicked looking dagger. Zuko leapt up, half fighting his way out of the crates and tackled solider just as he the dagger came free from his belt. It was sloppy, uncoordinated – panicked. But it drove the man away from his brother. Together, both solider and boy fell to the ground, and the dagger came away from his grip and clattered into a grimy corner.
Zuko had taken the worst of the fall – the man was over him, the weight of his armor pinning him down. Zuko shoved his legs up, trying to get room between them to firebend. His palms sparked, but no flame caught because hard fingers were now gripped to his throat, fingers pressing in on his windpipe. Zuko choked, trying to twist away, turning enough to clock the man right in the jaw. But the solider was intent – his hard amber eyes met Zuko’s, his jaw flaked with spittle – or maybe that was Zuko’s too… he couldn’t tell because the edges of the world were growing dark. He clawed at man’s hands with no relief, his lungs spasming.
The sound of running feet, and an impact as if very far away -- Sokka did something – Zuko couldn’t quite tell, but suddenly the weight and pressure was gone. He rolled away, coughing, his arms and legs tingling like they had been cut off from blood.
When he could sit up he saw that Sokka and the solider were on their feet, crouched and circling each other like wild beasts. Somehow, the solider had gotten back his dagger, and Sokka his whale-bone machete. Sokka had a wicked slice along his forearm which was weeping blood. He seemed not to notice, but the Fire Nation solider was grinning in triumph, twirling his bloodied dagger in his hand in silent mocking.
Zuko didn’t think about what he had to do next. He was still gasping, still lightheaded from lack of oxygen, but he took an deep breath – more of a gasp -- forcing the air through his bruised windpipe. When he exhaled, it was fire. He crouched low, and with one sideways sweep of his arms, sent the ribbon of flame out. The tip of the ribbon curled around the man’s wrist, making him jump back, dropping his weapon.
Sokka was ready; he stepped forward with a sharp kick, catching the solider right in his kneecap.
The man cried out – the most sound any of them had made so far -- and fell to his knees. Sokka hit him right on the top of his head using the butt of his whale-bone machete.
With a final groan the man sunk to his knees and fell over, unconscious.
At first the boys could do nothing more than lean over and pant, trying to get their wind back and steady shaky legs. That was harder than they could have ever expected, and it had nearly taken everything out of them. When Sokka spoke, he was echoing both of their thoughts.
“I don’t think I can do that again.”
“Yeah, no kidding,” Zuko husked. He was leaning against the far wall and massaging his neck. A ring of vivid red and purple finger-sized marks were already standing out against his pale skin. At that moment he looked more bruise and scar than skin.
Sokka was gingerly unwrapping his arm guard, trying not to wince. Zuko came over to examine the wound: The white fabric had prevented the dagger from slicing to the bone, but the cut was long and was bleeding freely. It needed stitches, but that would have to wait. The only thing Zuko could do for the moment was wrap it as tight as he could.
Through the gap in the alleyway he could clearly see the outline of both the Fire Nation and pirate ships. “There has to be a different way to get in there.”
But Sokka wasn’t listening. He had bent over and scooped up one of the scrolls the solider had dropped, giving a choked yelp when his own likeness stared back at him. “I don’t have an earring! Since when do I have an earring?”
Zuko snatched the scroll out of his brother’s hands to look at it himself: It was a wanted poster, and sure enough, the picture vaguely looked like Sokka… if Sokka were twenty years old and had somehow become a pirate. Zuko’s own picture wasn’t much better. “Who drew this? My scars are on the wrong side, and…” he trailed off, finally reading instead of gaping. “They’re offering five-hundred royal backed gold pieces for us. Alive.”
His brother rubbed his chin, and when he grinned it was distinctly wolfish. “Hmm… that’s a lot of money. I wonder how much they’d pay for just one of us?”
“No, I’m serious,” Sokka continued, when Zuko glared at him. He nudged the still unconscious solider with the tip of his seal-hide boot. “That’s a lot of good money – it’s no wonder this guy didn’t yell out for help. He thought he could take us both and then collect the reward himself.”
“He nearly did.”
“Yeah, so let’s finish what he started.”
Zuko started to nod, agreeing, and then stopped. He looked down at the crumpled guard, at the rust-red uniform, at the faceplate. His lips thinned and when he spoke his voice was flat. “I guess it’ll have to be me then?”
“What?”
“You know, in the armor with the helmet.” But it was the piece over his face that he mimed when he spoke. It was clear what exactly he was referring too even if Sokka could ignore the suddenly too stiff way he stood, the way his Adams apple bobbed continuously as he swallowed. He had known what the plan was, but now that it was happening he found he wasn’t comfortable with the idea. Not of himself being in that uniform.
Sokka stared at him for the count of three. Then he snorted. “Playing dress-up doesn’t make it the real deal, you know.” A pause. “Besides, you’re going to be the prisoner.”
“What?” Zuko looked back and forth between the crumpled guard and his brother, torn between relief and alarm. “Sokka, I’m like six inches taller than you. No one is going to believe—”
“Two inches!” Sokka snapped, as if it counted. In his mind, it did. “Anyway, Prince Iroh isn’t even going to notice me. It’s you he wants.”
The impact of that statement at first flew right over Zuko’s head. He was still concerned with the plan. But then, when Sokka didn’t say anything more, and bent to start to work the heavy armor off the Fire Nation officer, he frowned. “What do you mean by that?”
“Nothing.” Sokka muttered. “Help me with the catches here.”
Zuko knelt down, but it was to only get eyelevel with his brother. “What did you mean, Sokka?”
Sokka glanced up at him, and there was something in his deep blue eyes… some hesitation that Zuko didn’t like at all. Maybe if it were Katara—he could always read her emotions like a book, and she the same way with him. Sokka was good at keeping his brilliant, and occasionally eccentric musings to himself. “Iroh is—” he started, and then again came that strange hesitation, as if he were biting back words. Sokka glanced away, avoiding his gaze. “They won’t care much about me, except for maybe slave labor in a mine or something and I don’t want to have to spell it out to you, but you’re a firebender. It’s not enough that Iroh gets the Avatar or else he would have halfway back to the Fire Nation by now. He has to get the rogue, too.”
It fit, but Zuko didn’t like the way his brother was avoiding his gaze.
OoOoOoO
They ended up hog-tying the still unconscious solider and leaving him in a mostly dry area of the alleyway, snug between two fishcrates. It took still a few minutes to figure out how exactly the complicated Fire Nation uniform was supposed to fit over Sokka’s skinny frame. The solider was taller and meatier, and while the armor plates didn’t exactly match-up, they figured it would be okay unless someone looked too close.
Finally, with Zuko’s hands secured loosely behind his back with rope tied in an easy Water Tribe knot set to give with one sharp tug, Sokka lead him out.
“Don’t walk like that. You’re too proud,” Sokka hissed. He was struggling to see out of the narrow bone-white face plate and over Zuko’s head to look where he was going. “I just beat you up, remember?”
His younger brother growled something under his breath, but he did hunch over, eyes trained on the ground. If this were real, he thought, there would be no way he would be going this quietly.
“YOU! STOP RIGHT THERE.”
Both brothers froze right in their steps and turned. A Fire Nation soldier wearing a rank-pin of a lieutenant was behind them. It was he who had spoken, and his golden-brown eyes swept from Zuko to the uniformed Sokka and back again. His upper lip curled. “So you managed to catch one of the kids, did you? What about the other one?”
“Oh him?” Sokka’s voice came out an octave above even his natural range, and he paused, coughing dramatically into his hand. When he spoke again, his voice was low, gruff, and to Zuko’s ears, very fake. “I was out putting up posters, and saw them. They tried to run, but this one here was slow.” He slapped Zuko’s shoulder, causing the other boy to shoot him a dirty look.
“I see.” The lieutenant’s eyes narrowed, but it wasn’t in suspicion. It was greed. “Well even if we don’t find the other, that’s still half the reward.”
“Uh, yeah,” agreed Sokka, bobbing his head. “So… I’m going to just put him with the other prisoners and, uh, go collect my money—”
“Oh, no need for that.” And now the lieutenant was smiling. “You haven’t heard? Commander Zhao wants to interrogate the captives the moment they’re brought in. He’ll want to see this one, first. I’ll accompany you. ”
Zuko’s spine straightened the moment the Commander’s name was uttered. “What?!” he barked, without thinking, breaking his persona as the beaten down Water Tribe boy. “No, I’m not going there. Where’s my sister?”
The lieutenant’s grin darkened into something sinister, and he took a threatening step towards the boy. But Sokka got there first.
Thinking fast, Sokka slapped Zuko hard upside the head – a ringing clout that was meant to stun more than hurt. “Silence, prisoner!” he snapped, and his other hand tightened on Zuko’s wrist. The unspoken message was clear: Shut up, Zuko. Let me do the talking!
The lieutenant huffed out a chuckle. “Water Tribe. Bunch of savages don’t know when keep quiet. Maybe the Commander will spare us the trouble and just take out his tongue.”
“Yeah, you said it!” Sokka’s laugh of agreement was high pitched, and painfully forced. But when the lieutenant turned to lead the way towards the docked ship, he pushed Zuko forward, making him follow. “Just play along,” Sokka whispered, while the man was a few steps ahead. “He’s just in it for the reward. Don’t make him suspect anything.”
Zuko nodded once to indicate he heard, but his shoulders were tight even as he slumped back down into his down-trodden hunch.
The lieutenant led the way confidently up the rampart, and through the maze of metal, stopping at one unremarkable door. He knocked twice.
“Enter!” called a muffled voice, from inside.
One firm push from the lieutenant and the door swung open to reveal an unexpectedly wide storage room; rows and rows of spears and blades hung from the walls, their killing edges polished to a gleam. And in the middle of it, overseeing an inspection, was Commander Zhao flanked by no less than five men.
The Commander turned. “This had better be—” He stopped, his eyes falling on the captured boy. “Well, well, well. What do we have here?”
Taking the cue, Sokka pushed Zuko forward a step or two, one hand still clasped firmly about his brother’s wrist in a silent plea to behave.
The lieutenant leading them threw a crisp salute, which Sokka echoed, albeit a little sloppily. He took in a breath to speak, but again, the lieutenant cut him off. “I brought in the Water Tribe boys, sir. Just as ordered.”
Typical Fire Nation to be taking all the credit where none was due. He opened his mouth to object – his mouth had always been a step ahead of his brain. Then he caught the plural, a second too late. Sokka stepped back. The lieutenant was quicker. He turned and with one easy movement, hooked a finger under Sokka’s too large helmet and wrenched it off – exposing the other Water Tribe boy underneath.
Zuko’s hands came free from the deliberately loose rope, already sparking with intent, but there was little he could do. He and Sokka were already surrounded by Zhao’s men, faced by the pointy end of several spears.
The lieutenant tossed the helmet it away with a sneer. “You can’t really have expected me to fall for that, savage? That’s the oldest trick in the scrolls.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Sokka, with forced casualness. “You Fire Nation guys are pretty stupid.”
A couple of faceless soldiers growled at this, but Commander Zhao only smiled. “Excellent work, Lieutenant Izhar. You will be commended in my report.”
“Thank you, sir,” said the lieutenant with a please bow.
Zhao turned his attention once more to the boys. “Impersonating a Fire Nation officer – that’s like dressing up a hog-monkey and expecting it to dance.” But his eyes were trained not to Sokka now, but to Zuko.
Zuko clenched his fists. He locked gazes with Zhao, stepping forward stiffly, almost against his own will, bringing his chest up to the sharp spear points. “Release us at once, Zhao!” It was nothing short of an order, somehow powerful, but equally ridiculous coming from the Water Tribe teen.
“Or what, exactly?” Zhao’s voice was low, almost cloying.
Sokka stepped up, coming shoulder to shoulder his with his brother. “You think you’re pretty tough with all these guys around!” but his words fell oddly flat. There was a sort of pressure in the air, a pressure that he was only starting to become aware of. Zuko and Zhao were glaring at one another, ignoring Sokka as if he hadn’t spoken. Maybe they hadn’t heard him at all. And around them, high up on the walls, the torches were flickering. It was impossible to say who was doing it, or maybe they both were for the flames jerking, flicking back and forth as if caught in the middle of a gale. But the air was still. Still and thick with tension.
Zuko’s lips had peeled back in a silent snarl. “I fought you at Kyoshi Island. I’ll do it again.”
“Is that a challenge?”
“Yes!” Zuko leaned forward, nearly vibrating, passionate for the fight. “If I win, you let us go free. Me, the Avatar, my sister and my brother.”
“What is going on here?” The question, no less of an order than Zuko’s had been, cut through the room with the sharpness of a knife. Instantly, the almost palatable, intangible tension was gone. The torches stopped their wild dancing. Every head turned.
Prince Iroh stood in the opened doorway.
“I think you heard it for yourself, General,” said Zhao. He seemed very pleased with himself, like a man who had outwitted a wily opponent. “The boy has challenged me to an Agni Kai, and I was about to accept.”
Agni Kai? Sokka hadn’t heard the word before, although it did sound… Fire Nationy. He glanced at Zuko and saw that his good eye was widened.
“What?” And for a moment – just a brief moment in time – Sokka saw the same exact expression of dawning horror on Iroh’s face. He and Zuko did look a lot alike, give or take fifty years and fifty pounds.
Zhao’s smile was oily. “Don’t think you can stop this, Iroh. Barbarian as he is, he is also a firebender. It is his right.” He turned, nearly grandstanding for his small audience, and gave a mocking bow which set Sokka’s teeth on edge. “And I accept your challenge, Prince Zuko.”
The words and the name swept over the watching soldiers – including the ones who had crowded in after Iroh to see what all the yelling had been about. The sudden surge of shocked murmurs from so many throats all at once filled the room, overpowering even Zuko’s loud, indignant, “I am not a prince!”
Zhao was still smiling around, and with a final smirk he brushed past the two Water Tribe boys, shouldering Zuko in his wake. “Outside, on the foredeck. I’m going to enjoy watching you burn, boy.”
Iroh’s expression was thunderous. “Leave us!” His order, while not loud, made ever watching man scurry to the exit. The door shut behind them, leaving only the aged prince and the two teens.
And even though there was only one of him, and two of them, and he stood below Sokka’s height with his hands clasped within the thick folds of his robes, they didn’t move, didn’t reach for any of the weapons lining the walls. The torchlights were flickering, flaring up in bright yellows and reds. There was no doubt that it was Iroh’s power this time. When he spoke, however, his voice was steely, yet calm.
“You cannot hope to win against Zhao. He is considered a master among his peers.”
“I don’t need your advice!” Zuko snapped.
“Wait.” Sokka held up a hand before Iroh could reply, turning to his brother. If someone had to inject a little bit of sanity in this situation, it might as well be him. “What exactly is this Agni Kai thing. What do you have to do?”
“I think it’s like…” Zuko’s gaze seemed to turn inward, almost as if he were grappling with the half-formed notion himself and trying to put it into terms both he and Sokka would understand. “Like an honor duel.” Which was done by two warriors out on the ice, and usually stopped at first blood.
Iroh’s expression was pinched. “It is a fire duel, nephew. And you have challenged a master.”
Sokka stared his brother. Then, “What, are you crazy?”
“I have to do this, Sokka. If I win he’s agreed to let Aang and Katara go.” But his face had gone even paler than usual, nearly white about his lips. He looked scared. He looked angry.
“And what if you lose? No, wait.” Sokka turned to Iroh, and in his mind’s eye he saw the scene his spirit guide, Lu Ten, had showed him which had happened so long ago; Iroh comforting an upset Zuko, patently teaching him a firebending trick to cheer him up. Iroh had cared for him, once. “You say you’re his uncle, right?” he asked, and ignored Zuko’s sputtered outrage. “Then don’t let him do this.”
“I don’t need his help!” Zuko snapped, but Sokka wasn’t listening. He was looking at Iroh, holding onto the image of the boy and his uncle. He was family, and that had to mean something… even to the Fire Nation.
“You know what’s going to happen if he goes out there. Just let us go. You can say we took you by surprise, or something. No one has to know.” Sokka swallowed, feeling sick at his next word. “Please.”
Iroh bowed his head. He looked old, then. Older than Sokka had thought. After a long, long moment he spoke. “Zuko, if you retract this foolish challenge, I will release this boy here.” He looked at Sokka. “And his sister.”
Sokka waited a beat, but that was the extent of Iroh’s offer. Fire Nation, he thought savagely, and he knew he had been an idiot to even hope. They were cruel monsters, and this one was no different. “What?! What about Aang?” His voice went up and down an octave in mingled disbelief and anger. “What about Zuko?”
“It is my duty to bring the Avatar back to the Fire Nation. Zuko must return as well.”
“You-”
“No,” Zuko said, before Sokka could really tell the old Prince what was on his mind. “No deal.” Then he turned to his brother, gripping his arm above the elbow, facing him not man to man, not even brother to brother, but warrior to chief. “Listen, I know I can do this. I don’t know how or why, but I’m not crazy. I know I can defeat him, Sokka.”
Sokka stared at him for a long, long moment. There was nothing weak in Zuko’s gaze. Finally, he felt himself nodding, giving permission he wasn’t aware until that moment he had to give. He trusted him; trusted in his judgment.
“Fine,” he said, and Zuko’s grip tightened in gratitude.
“Prince Zuko.” Iroh’s voice was grave. “Whether you wish to admit it or not, the Fire Nation is your true home. I have done what I could to keep your identity a secret -- Perhaps I hoped you would come to your senses. Zhao will work tirelessly to make sure you are seen as a traitor to your people. You must remember this; you are of royal blood. No matter what the outcome of this duel, I will make sure you can return in honor.”
Zuko lifted his chin. “I don’t remember the Fire Nation,” he said. “And I don’t remember you. The Water Tribe took me in and raised me. Sokka’s father adopted me into his family, despite what I am. They are my people. You’re just wasting your breath.”
A brassy gong rung out from somewhere up above, almost as if to punctuate his words. Iroh closed his eyes, but he did not move. “It’s time…I will lead the way. My only advice to you is this; Zhao is overconfident in his abilities. If you focus on your basics and take him by surprise, you may live past today, nephew.” The last word seemed to be almost said out of spite, as if Zuko’s speech had not mattered in the least.
Then, before either could respond he turned, opening the door once again. As soon as he was out, his pet flying lemur settled on his shoulder, as if the creature had been waiting outside for his return.
If it was on the boy’s mind’s to make a run for freedom (Sokka, at least, considered it) the idea was quashed by the sight of Fire Nation guards posted every ten feet or so along the corridor. Plus Prince Iroh himself.
Sokka sighed and very quietly whispered, “Are you sure about this?”
Zuko visibly swallowed, but his back was straight – if not for the tightness in his jaw, he would have looked completely cool and certain. “I refuse to let him win.”
Sokka nodded, although he wasn’t sure if Zuko meant Zhao… or Iroh.
OoOoOoO
Next up: Zuko’s Agni Kai.
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And hurrah, shirtless fire duel! I can't wait to see how you deal with the Zhao/Zuko Agni Kai. :D
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Anyway, thanks so much for the comment! Haha! Shirtless Agni Kai in the rain. *Grins*
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Mmm. soaking wet Zhao and Zuko, without shirts.
Duelling one another.
With fire. Perhaps steam-drying.
Ooooh.
I'll be in my bunk.
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I am quite convinced that Agni Kais are at least partially rooted in attracting girls. Why else would they be fought shirtless?
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Dancing and fighting. What guys sometimes think can attract the ladies perhaps. LOL.
Just started reading this and have got this far by the way. I'm really impressed Avocado by the way.
:)
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Seriously!
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its been a good day BD
love this chapter, lots of brother Zuko/Sokka moments :)
aww Iroh dont be a creep >=[
cant wait for the next chapter, Zuko and Zhaos agni kai is immense in any universe =P
sorry for my lack of comments lately as well :(
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Man... the world needs more Zhao. I'm pretty convinced you're doing the world a favour by updating, hahaha. Can't wait for the next chapter!
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You know, Rufftoon's comic really made me fall in love with Zhao. He is such an awesome a-hole. :D
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Awesome chapter, can't wait for the next.
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I loved the Boiling Rock, but, you know, both Zuko AND Sokka should have been caught within the first fifteen seconds. Tops. Zuko's socially inept robot and Sokka looks like a little boy playing dress-up in his father's armor. At first I was going to ignore it, but right in the middle of the chapter I was like... This just has to fail. This is ridiculous. /end rant
:D
Anyway, I'll try not to keep you waiting too long for the next chapter.
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PERFECT description. XD
It's why I avoided that in my fic, although completely different circumstances as well. It always saddens me that this show was a kids show. As awesome as it was it could have been so much better, so I really enjoy fanfics that takes it up to that level. So good job. :D
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Would it be alright if I friend your journal? It would be nice to have another Avatar fan on my friends list, especially a Sokka/Zuko shipper. XD
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Adding now. :)
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Oh fuck, Agni Kai! I am excited!