Prison Break

zetsubonna:

“Zuko?”

To be completely frank, if Prince Zuko had been making a list of the top ten voices he didn’t care to hear right this minute, he would have neglected the peasant. He immediately rearranged his priorities and put all of the Avatar’s friends on the same line.

“Zuko?” he was insistent, coming closer. How the hell had he gotten in here? “Is that you?”

Silence.

“How did you end up down here?” He was so close. One quick inhalation and Zuko could set his clothes on fire. And he might have tried it, if he hadn’t been muzzled as well as manacled to the wall.

Blue eyes peered at him through the darkness, as though warily regarding a guard dog on a chain.

“Oh. Well. I thought you were just being stuck up. Hm.”

He shyed away from the peasant’s hands, but there wasn’t much slack in his chains, and eventually they went around his head. The muzzle fell away in seconds. Zuko blinked as he worked his jaw. He couldn’t remember his name, not that it mattered. Another enemy in a sea of enemies, this one just happened to find him after the others had beaten him unconscious and locked him up to await his death sentence, made even more inevitable if they discovered his identity. Which this fool could grant them. It was so typical of Zuko’s luck. His sister would have found this endlessly amusing.

“What are you doing in here?”

“Admiring the scenery.” Zuko’s voice was strained after so much yelling through his clenched teeth when he’d first regained consciousness a few hours ago.

“Heh,” the Water Tribesman smirked, eyeing the manacles on Zuko’s wrists and ankles, his wiry arms folded over his chest, unconsciously on the defensive. “You must have really ticked somebody off.”

Zuko closed his eyes. The Earth Kingdom didn’t usually resort to torture. He wondered what he’d done to deserve the special treatment. The guy lingered, staring, and Zuko worried that he was going to start talking to him again. He really didn’t want to spend his last few hours on the earth having a heart to heart. He was bracing himself for his end. He wanted to face it with some shred of his dignity intact.

Just as abruptly as he appeared, he started to leave, and Zuko was mostly relieved to see him go.

It was probably a quarter of an hour before he returned.

“They’ll kill you, won’t they?” he asked, solemn, thoughtful.

“I’m Fire Nation,” Zuko gave him an even stare.

“So that’s a yeah?” He bit his lower lip, looking away, toward the floor, and then opened a pouch that hung from his belt. “Ugh, I’ve been hanging out with Aang too long.” He eyed Zuko’s ankles, then frowned up at him, trying to look stern. “My sister said you told her you’d lost your honor.”

Zuko’s throat was parched and pained. He did not want this. “Yes.”

The Water Tribe guy took out a long silver pin and began to work at Zuko’s manacles. “You owe me, if this works.”

Zuko’s eyes widened in surprise, then half closed in a lingering wince at owe. “Yes,” he agreed, bitterly.

There was silence between them, aside from a few thoughtful grunts that were far less unpleasant than his condescending, know-it-all tone. The lock tumbled with a quiet click, and Zuko flexed his wrists, rubbing them with his thumbs as the peasant knelt at his feet. “What do you want?”

“Just a little head start.” His voice was darker than the cell itself, tinged with resolve. “Two days. Twelve hours for each limb.”

Zuko was stunned. It was a clever request, but he could have asked for more. Much more. A life debt was no small thing. “Why are you doing this, peasant?”

“My name is Sokka,” he growled, stuffing the lock pick back in his pouch. He stalked off into the darkness, and Zuko lost sight of him more quickly than he’d expected.

His lips twisted in an ironic frown. With enemies like Sokka, who needed friends? He rubbed his temple with his palm. That sounded like his uncle, who was probably worried for him by now. Resisting the urge to set the prison on fire, Zuko vanished into the night.