Avatar Zuko

Chapter 37

Zuko stretched slightly in a large, rough and familiar seeming bed, cringing at the pain that flared up across his back. His eyes struggled to open and his limbs were so numb that it scared him, but overall he thought he could have felt worse. Still, the firebender was at a complete loss at what on earth had happened; everything leading up to what had most certainly been a very bad injury fuzzy, as though he were looking at the memories through thick glass. Once again he attempted to slide his eyelids open, this time them obeying after a little reluctance so that he could see where he was.

The sandpaper-bed was apparently familiar because it was the same used on all Fire Nation ships, and he'd spent three years lying in one similar on his own ship what seemed like years ago but was actually mere months. A red flag hung from the wall to his side and Zuko could imagine writing his name with the grime layering the iron walls of his room. All at once, the realisation of where he was and what that must have meant struck him like an ice pick being driven into his spine, causing him to shoot up to an uncomfortable sitting position. Through his increasing panic he could barely even feel the pain that lashed across his joints at every movement; the Prince’s one track mind taking over and consuming his mind with one thought: escape.

Zuko stumbled out of bed and distantly noted that he was wearing Fire Nation garb once again, though it was looser and softer than any of his stiff royal outfits. He struggled across the room and found, surprisingly, that the door was unlocked. Swinging it open, he tried not to worry about how his friends were fairing, since they too were most likely in Fire Nation custody and could have a whole host of terrible things happening to them. Katara might be dehydrating in some dry cell somewhere, Aang could be trussed up in a straight jacket a hundred metres underground, Toph might be in a dark, wooden box and Sokka- well, Sokka was a non-bender, so they might not even bother locking him up, he might already be… Disposed of.

Fear for his group spurred him onwards, until he was just below deck and could see two Fire Nation soldiers muttering together. Straining himself, he attempted to listen in.

“So, is he up yet?” Asked the much larger one, leaning against the metal wall of the corridor.

“I'm pretty sure you'd know if he was; there would probably be a welcome back party.” Replied the shorter one in a voice almost like a child’s, yet Zuko didn't register that through his confusion at their words. Were they talking about him? Why would the Fire Nation throw a welcome back part for the Avatar, even if he was their Prince?

“Damn, how long do you think he'll stay unconscious? It's already been three weeks and lightning can't hurt that much.” Commented the first soldier, chuckling slightly.

Lightning triggered a memory in Zuko, one of pain and sadness and anger but a glimpse all the same. He was in a cavern, beautifully lit with a million glowing lights, and he was in the air, everything in the hyperfocus it was in whenever he went into the Avatar State (though, before this, that had only been once). He only got a half-second of peace before a sharp pain like a dozen sizzling, white hot knives all drove into the small of his back, everything flashing blue for a moment before darkness, and then the red of his room on the ship.

Zuko gasped despite himself, sure now that he'd been arrested by Azula, and alerted the two soldiers to his presence, them both jumping comically at the sound of him before sprinting towards the firebender. Zuko was injured but still fast, and slashed at them with a flaming whip, it completely missed its target but did force his pursuers back a little, allowing him to get topside. His plan was rather simple: jump overboard and waterbend himself to the first patch of dry land he found, then figure everything else out.

The Prince stumbled onto the deck unsteadily, his heavy footfalls and ragged breaths making enough noise for the soldiers to all turn to him, most of them too shocked to move. It was night and even the silvery light from the slither of moon in the sky couldn't wash away the shadows that obscured his captors’ faces, making their already nightmarish movements towards him even more terrifying. Zuko found himself overwhelmed by his situation- he was completely surrounded and too weak to fight, and so probably about to get beaten half to death and carted the rest of the way to the Fire Nation. The thought caused him to move back from the soldiers, and made him hear their voices as though he were underwater, the sound swirling around his ears but not quite translating to actual words or voices.