𝙒𝙝𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙁𝙡𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙨 ⚠ slow updates ⚠ *editing*

Siege of the North pt. 1

*more angst and shattering discoveries*

The glare of the sun on the rippling surface of the ocean hurt her eyes but she didn't look away. She was numb and has been since the last two days. Upon Zhao's lead fleet ship, she had little to no privacy. A soldier followed her everywhere and anywhere she went, almost as if Zhao felt concerned that she would jump off the bow of the ship. Perhaps she should save herself from whatever he had in mind for her. And by the time they would get to her, she would have been sliced and cut apart by whatever was at the bottom of the ship. She would be gone before he could do whatever he wanted to her. 

"You should eat." She barely heard the voice much less the smell of the food in his hand.

"I'm not hungry," Her voice came out coarsely. Her stomach was crying for food, any food, but she wouldn't give into anyone's persuasion. 

Iroh's face was full of creasing wrinkles. "You haven't eaten since our disembark. You must eat or you will fall ill."

Hestia inhaled sharply, the chilly air burning her nose enough to induce a sneeze. "I'm good, thank you."

"This is not healthy, Hestia," Iroh told her with an expression of concern. "Please, you need to eat something."

"I want to go to my room." She refused to look at her uncle-figure, brushing past him. 

Her designated "bodyguard" followed after her, a few steps behind her.  The whole way, she kept her head down and spoke to no one. The room she had been given had been where foot traffic was heavy, soldiers marched through the halls all the time; he clearly thought about her placement on his ship. It was nearly bare, though Zhao made sure to give her a mediation cushion and table. Incense was alight, an unrecognizable scent floated about her quarters wispily. She disliked lavender incense; it was too floral for her liking. 

She trudged to her bed and sat on the dark crimson sheets, emotions bubbling in her chest. The world around her numbed again, seemingly engulfing her into darkness. Tears slipped from her eyes, searing and fat. Disoriented hiccups echoed and a painful lump began to form in the back of her throat. Hugging herself, she coiled her body on the sheets, bunching up the satin to use as her handkerchief but the burning liquids overflowed immediately after the previous tears were wiped away. She tried to silence her sniffles and hiccups, fearing the guard outside would try to enter and investigate. She certainly didn't want Zhao coming in there. 

A painful hiccup and more eye rubs, Hestia felt exhaustion weigh on her body. Physically, she was in pristine shape, however mentally, she was far drained than she ever thought she'd be. From Zuko...her breath caught in her throat again, a few scorching tears slipping from her ducts the moment his face flashed through her mind. 

She'd rather be physically exhausted. This...she hated this depression. With her whole being, she wanted to believe that he wasn't...dead. They hadn't found a body. No bodies were supposed to be good, right? It meant there was hope. 

They were only given a few hours to put the flames out and search the wreckage before Zhao forcefully whisked them all away on his manhunt for Aang. 

The hatred for the admiral piled into a big, flammable hill. He barely gave them a chance to search, much less try to scavenge their things from the ship. He'd claimed the ship seemed to be utterly unsafe, though she wholly believed he was stalling them to force onto his own ship. It worked.

Because now, she wanted nothing but to be in silence and the dark. In a cocoon of grievance. She knew Iroh hated seeing her in such disarray. He tried to help her, he did, really. Since their departure from the earth kingdom shipyard, he'd been eerily calm and focused. In the back of her mind, she knew he'd experience familial loss before, and perhaps he was dealing in his own way, as he did his son's death so many years ago.