The prisoner
Zuko couldn’t believe his ears the first time he woke up. He thought he was still in the Spirit World and those incessant creatures played another trick on him. When he woke up the second time he knew there was no trick. It was the story of his life. The things he wanted the most were always just out of his reach. Why should this be any different?
If he was honest with himself, everything was different. He had traveled to the Spirit World. You wanted or not the experience changed you. Prince Zuko was a master at resistance. The Spirits could create thousand versions of conversations with his mother and it would still not be enough to keep him from his destiny. The crown was his. And Father’s acceptance would be his as well, once he captured the avatar.
He badly wanted to believe the Spirit World was a fragment of his imagination. That his mother didn’t touch him with the unconditional love she always did. He had forgotten what it was like to be loved for no reason at all. She hadn’t once mentioned his exile or his father or his sister. She only spoke of her grandfather. Prince Zuko was surprised to realize he hadn’t known anything about him or who he was. He never questioned why.
He learnt early on questioning things rarely brought a reward. He couldn’t remember even once asking her about her family. She told him her grandfather was best friends with Sozin but nothing like him. She had spoken about him with love and regret. If he was best friends with Sozin yet history didn’t remember him, he must have been weak. Zuko didn’t think he needed to know about his other grandfather and his goodness. What did he need that for?
And if she was in the Spirit World talking to him, she was dead. What did it matter where she came from now? She died. She left him and had the audacity to die as well. He only wanted answers from her. His mom wouldn’t talk about anything he wanted to talk about. He still listened, just to hear her. And the love in her voice felt like basking in the sun.
His mother was the pleasant side of his imagination or the Spirit World or the delusions or whatever they were. When it came to the rest, he was more miserable than he ever thought possible. They made him relive his childhood and all the memories locked up in the deepest recess of his mind. Prince Zuko’s emotions ten fold heightened in the Spirit World, he was a spectator to his own actions and decisions. He listened to the conversations with his father and the disappointed tone he always used when speaking to Zuko. He felt the pain of his mom leaving again and again. He was burnt and exiled in an endless loop. For him eternity passed. He screamed most of the time but no sound made any difference. He still watched himself as he fought and hurt Katara, captured and lost the avatar. Triumphs followed by demise...his story told over and over...
The Spirits whispered of a different destiny. They told him he was at the crossroads. It was still up to him to choose his path. That this was his second and only chance. They told him he was the key to restoring the balance. How couldn’t that be his imagination? How could that be a real thing? Albeit, Zuko never believed himself this imaginative.
He already had a destiny. He spent most of his life fulfilling it. He wouldn’t quit when he came this close to getting everything he ever wanted. He’d be fine with his destiny as it was, only if Katara’s flitting touches didn’t drive him delirious. Why was she touching him? After all he had done to her why was she still touching him like she wanted to be touching him?
She woke him up the first time. Her anger and desperation called him from wherever he had been. He hadn’t paused to think, he answered her call as if it was the most natural thing in the world. And that was before he knew she saved his life. At the beginning he thought he must have been captured. Katara’s anger faded in comparison to his rage. He wasn’t able to move, or even open his eyes. As if he was paralyzed, all he could do was to listen. Just like in the Spirit World, he was an unwilling observer. Halfheartedly trying to convince himself this too was part of his imagination. Then he heard she saved his life and it appeared against everyone's wishes.
He couldn’t fathom why she did it. Bits and pieces he caught in their conversation didn’t provide much answers. It seemed as if the avatar himself was baffled. The memory of his demise was hazy. What could he have done in the short time to deserve her kindness? Better yet, why was his first instinct to save her? Zuko clearly remembered that part.
He also tried to save the admiral, didn’t he? He wasn’t sure why. Not only the man tried to kill him, he actually killed the Moon Spirit. Zuko felt the imbalance and wrongness of it to his core as if he was knocked off center. What the admiral did required the highest form of punishment. He spent enough time in the Spirit World to know he got what he deserved and some. The prince wouldn’t admit it but it instilled fear in his heart.
How did he go from winning the battle to dying? Why did he remember Katara in danger? Why did he go to her rescue? Who could he ask the questions to when he didn’t have the answers himself. He mentally cussed his situation to The Spirit World and back. Zuko allowed Katara to crawl under his skin long before she saved his life. The stupid necklace started it all. No one could ever say he lacked stubbornness, but even the prince couldn’t resist forever. He should have kept the necklace locked and far away from him. Instead, he pocketed it. He wasn’t sure when he started to continuously touch it.
At first, he only took it out to celebrate his small victory. A reminder he found his only chance. Even in his pocket, he often rubbed his fingers over the cool surface. Mostly to daydream about capturing the avatar. Then he noticed a new smell invading his nostrils. It saturated the air he breathed as if imprinting itself in his brain. How could the small thing hold so much of her? His dreams of capturing the avatar dissolved into a curiosity unlike he ever felt.
Katara became his obsession, only rivaled by his drive to capture the avatar and restore his honor. He was glad Uncle hadn’t picked up on it. Zuko was sure the old man would make his already miserable life unbearable. Of course, escaping both himself and his uncle’s teasing nature resulted in the mounting frustration that burst when he finally captured Katara. The prince didn’t even try not to be himself. It was impossible. The frustration found an outlet, it didn’t matter that he knew he would regret it.
And he did. More than he could imagine. When he captured her, he behaved exactly like he should but not like he wanted deep down. Returning that necklace was nothing like his daydreams. Why did he have daydreams anyways? He somehow managed to make it worse every time he crossed her path. He wanted to apologize and the idea made him sick. That wasn’t Prince Zuko. He hadn’t come this far for something so sappy. If he must carry the guilt as a reminder so be it.
It just took a little more convincing than usual.
He didn’t realize the extent of his guilt until she’d called and like a lost puppy he’d answered. Was she warning him? Was he the one who saved her first? Maybe she was just repaying him the favor. Those were the daydreams that got him in trouble. He didn’t even expect he’d go to her rescue when others tried to harm her. Prince Zuko had nothing left to lose by admitting as they fought, he could feel himself holding back the punches.
She wasn’t weak. She gave all she had. She was just too desperate. She fought teeth and claws, but for once he kept his head straight. He knew he couldn’t allow himself to harm her. There were things he could live with. That wasn’t one of them. And there was no way he could knock her out otherwise. She was already powerful the first time they faced each other. In the weeks he hadn’t seen her, Katara became formidable. She just started testing her powers. What would she be like in a few years? How powerful? Why did he take pride in that? What had she done to him?
He knew there was something different between them now. He was sure she had done something to him. Before his memory went hazy their relationship was different. Normal. Maybe the wrong word. Maybe a better was to say, not otherworldly charged. After Katara saved him, the energy between them shifted. Like an invisible tether connecting them to each other. Now when she called the sound breached all the barriers. Her voice reached him to the horrible place he was, jolting him awake. As the days went, he put two and two together: every time Katara went through a strong emotion, it brought him back from the Spirit World. Too bad his body wasn’t ready for his return.
That first time it felt like he smacked back into his body. He was only conscious. No other part of his body obeyed his commands, not even long enough to lift his eyelids. With no other choice, he listened. Not a minute later, he found out their fight was about his sleeping bag. Katara was fighting for his rights. He didn’t think anyone ever told him he had rights that alone fight for them on his behalf.
He didn’t think she would win the fight especially after he realized the sudden silence was because Katara froze her brother. Just for a second but it was definitely the worst thing to do. Surely she couldn’t win with that against her and the other arguments--someone needed to go back to the town they passed on their way and buy it. The avatar thought his animal was too tired for the journey and deserved as much rest as the rest of them if not more. Zuko agreed. They should be more grateful to the giant beast. Katara was willing to walk if that’s what it took. He wanted to believe it was entirely about him, but he knew she was stubborn and that looked like someone who didn’t want to admit she was wrong. In the end, she did get what she wanted even though shops were already closed by that time.
The prince would grin if he could.
He had absolutely no idea how incredible she was until their journey together and he was out most of it and fighting with himself the rest of the time. He thought the avatar would treat him like he would treat his enemy, but he was surprised by the kindness he offered. Maybe timid kindness but it was still there. Wasn’t that how an avatar should be? He wasn’t even sure what surprised him. The same thing couldn’t be said about Katara’s brother. He’d be happy to reverse her decision any day.
His body was still not ready for him to come back. He’d a feeling Katara would lose the fight with herself soon. He hadn’t helped his case. She was strong enough to force herself to face the truth: he was her enemy. They had no place for him. It would happen sooner rather than later. He could feel it. He could feel it coming and he was still not prepared. With his fingers frozen he’d never felt so much cold. When Katara made her decision to leave him, a light went out inside him. He didn’t have a clue what cold was until he felt hollow inside. He was in the Spirit world when it happened. He left his mother by the pond and snapped back into his body.
This time, he was there to stay.
When she fell on him, he barely felt the pain or her weight. His shoulder...actually his entire left side hurt. He was cold and on fire. What was this? What was happening to him? Nothing mattered but seeing Katara for one last time. If she left him behind he didn’t know when he’d find her again. For now his body wasn’t going anywhere. He gave everything he had and opened his eyes.
Her head was down. Her long hair braided as always. When he got the ideas about combing his fingers through the long strands or tracing her loops? Hadn’t he always dreamt it? What a cruel punishment Zuko couldn't feel her weight, not even when she balanced her hands on his stomach. The pain numbed all parts of his body.
“Ouch,” she said, her voice barely audible and looked up.
Their eyes collided. They stared at each other only for a second before her eyes closed. He lost hold of his body and closed his eyes. He got what he wanted. Her eyes reminded him of deep seas; clear yet so deep it was murky and mysterious. He didn’t mean to let her know he was coming around. Zuko preferred she didn’t know. Why he wasn’t sure yet.
If he had control of his body he would jump when her hand cupped his cheek. The cheek, he himself touched with hesitation. She didn’t mind. She stroked his skin with her thumb. Was she trying to kill her? Why was she touching his scar as if it was nothing? Was this what Katara wished, to torture him to death? Her success was undeniable, in the few minutes he lost more years than in any battle. As if that wasn’t bad enough, she whispered his name as she did so many times before. Why was she doing this to him?
Soon he wished she would go back to soft touches and whispers when she started to poke and pinch him. And not long after, he even wished for the physical pain as long as she stayed. She didn’t. This was it. This was the goodbye. He messed it up as he did with everything else. In his mind he saw a wall building brick by a brick. The worst was he felt the wall was as imaginary as it was a physical thing. She was everything in her arsenal to bury the connection between them.
This was the last time he saw her, until he’d find her again.
Someone came on Appa and lifted him out of the saddle.
“What’s with him?” a boyish voice asked.
“Who cares?” another replied, in a raspy voice.
“Nice decoration he got there. Do you think the avatar gave it to him?”
“He is going to the cooler,” a third voice said.
“He is a firebender?” No one answered the first guy’s question as they carried him. “We should drag his body around the courtyard not carry him like he is a prince.”
He was a prince. Time would come for him to show them exactly how princes’ liked to be treated.
“Leave him be,” Raspy Voice said. “We are better than them no matter what they do to us.”
“Move, old man,” the latter comer said. Zuko’s body hit the ground with a thad. “I’ve been on a high horse and the view is the same.”
Raspy muttered something the prince couldn’t hear. He didn’t protest much more as they grabbed Zuko’s arms and dragged him off. His feet rattled on the ground. They must have entered a building by the coolness and the reprieve from the sun. He also felt the tiled floor under his feet. His naked skin slid on the smooth surface giving him a minute to take his breath. He knew what was coming. All prisons descended downwards. No matter the nation. And all of them usually had lots of stairs.
“What’s that on his hands?” the guy who questioned everything asked. “Is it frozen?”
“It looks like someone converted the cooler into a mitten,” Raspy observed.
“Are we leaving it on?”
“They told us to return him in the same state as we got him in, I say that means leave it on.” The man who joined later would definitely kill Zuko and call it a good riddance. He could be best friends with Katara’s brother.
Return him? He hadn’t heard that part. When were they returning him? To whom? He heard more footsteps echoing, the faint sound of conversation drifting to him. The avatar’s voice was hard to forget. He didn’t want to think about the future. Or how to rescue himself. He didn’t think Iroh would come to his rescue this time. He was on his own. He wasn't meant to be on his own. Not when he was questioning everything he knew while running and hiding from the answers. He never, not once in his life, didn’t have something to care about. And for a very long time he only cared about his honor. Why did it feel like he lost the drive? Could he really have a different destiny?
Why did he care about her more than himself, his honor, his destiny? He wanted to believe he was indebted to her and that’s why. Not his fault, someone else forcing him. Lying to himself didn’t help him. He wasn’t compelled by the connection or the Spirits, this one was on him. All his problems wrapped into a girl. He wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry from the ridiculousness of it.
He didn’t know when his eyes opened. Did he ask his body to move and it obeyed him? He watched her retrieving back. He wondered if he still had a chance to steal a glimpse of Katara’s face. Her slow and light footsteps carried her towards the double doors and out of his sight. He didn’t expect to see her so soon and say goodbye so fast again.
He’d a lot to say and nothing to say at the same time. He thought his heart might burst out of his chest and walk to her. What had she done to him? He was sure it was his racing heartbeat that made Katara look back. Her eyes were full of worry and hesitation. He knew it was for him. He knew she struggled to let him go. He was exhilarated by the thought. She stumbled into the door, clutching it like a shield.
He couldn’t keep his eyes open longer. He didn’t see what happened after. He didn’t care if he made her look back. All that mattered was that she paused. She looked back. Was it because she could feel he was attached to her? Was he the only one who could see it? Was it something else? What else could it be? He didn’t know but he knew he didn’t believe it was just the tether between them.