Avatar The Last Airbender Fan Fiction ❯ The Guard and the Phoenix ❯ That Night ( Chapter 2 )

Avatar: TLA © Nick & Bryan of Nickelodeon, not me, alas.fff

 

Gold eyes were nothing special; many in Fire Nation royalty had them. Xi-xi had even been looked dead in the eyes by the man before her -when she had been first recruited-, but now…

 

…Now they were different…

 

They weren't dead, but not full of that fiery passion that was so intimidating. No, now they were filled with rage, hate, a new kind of passion. Revenge. Xi-xi felt sparks run up her arms, even though the Fire Lord was powerless. His eyes burned into her and saw her. She felt vulnerable, like no amount of armor could protect her. Her breathing quickened and she felt like vomiting. She shook her head and fell back on her butt. Once she refocused, the weird feelings left and Ozai had returned to looking at a spot on the floor. Xi-xi scrambled to her feet and out the door, slamming it shut. The vibrations from the door shook her and sent her to her knees.

 

“Don't cry… don't cry…” She looked around to make sure none of the other guards had seen her. The guard stood up slowly and walked away, feeling ashamed.

 

Dinner that night didn't taste right. Xi-xi's elder brother, a veteran of the war, watched her warily as her chopsticks spilled pile after pile of rice, “Xi-xi, are you alright?”

 

“I'm fine, Tziao.” She snapped, “I'm not a little girl!”

 

“Okay, okay.” Tziao said, waving his sister down with the arm not currently occupying a sling, “I was just worried. You're really off, I can tell. Did something happen at the prison?”

 

Xi-xi trembled there, and then set her bowl down, “Ozai…”

 

“Say again?”

 

“Fire Lord Ozai!” Xi-xi slammed her hands on the table to punctuate herself, “My last assignment as guard is Ozai!”

 

Tziao jumped at his sister's outburst, taking a second to soak in what she had said. She'd entered the guard sometime after he had returned from Northern Water Tribe. Her guard job kept them afloat, but he knew she hated it. She hated the war, hated her job, hated Fire Lord Ozai most of all. It was his orders that gave Zhao the power to attack the Northern Water Tribe, the attack that injured Tziao. Now, she was to look after that same man, “Xi-xi, calm down, it's not that bad. I heard that he's powerless; he can't harm you even if he wanted to. You have firebending and he doesn't. You've got the advan-“

 

Xi-xi shook her head and left the table in a rush. Tziao remained there. He couldn't go after her when she was like this. Xi-xi might've been in the Guard, but she was still a child at heart. Raising oneself during a war with no parents and a brother who depended on you once he was finally in your life had a way of warping a person's mental state. Xi-xi could fight with the best soldier, but if Tziao tried to make dinner without her, she'd lose it. She needed to feel wanted, useful. It was a dangerous complex.

 

“What am I doing…” Xi-xi groaned, leaning on the railing around their front porch, “I should just resign now and not wait another second.”

 

Something in her, however, didn't want that. It wanted to go back and look that man in the eye, look until one of them burned a hole into the other. She shivered, but not from fear or from the cold. She sighed and put her head down. In her mind's eye, she could see that man, his eyes tearing through her. Tears flooded her eyes. She felt weak, helpless.

 

***

 

Ozai stretched out on the straw mat on the cold floor of his cell. His muscles still ached from being huddled up against the wall for hours. There wasn't much difference in distance between the mat to the bars versus the wall to the bars, but it did get him away from people who would want to reach out to him. He didn't want their sympathy, their weakness. He put his arms behind his head and looked up at the stony, desolate ceiling. Nine months he'd been staring at these same crags and nitches, questions bubbled up. Was he a grandfather by now? Zuko had not come back since he asked about his mother. Had he found her? What was the world like, now that the war was over?

 

He hated thinking about these things, but there's not much else to do when your only friends are the calls of the fire-larks outside and the ever changing guard.

 

Speaking of guards, that girl assigned to him recently… what was her name? Xi-xi, that's right. She was different, to say the least. Her eyes were soft blue, a stark contrast against her tan skin and black hair. It made him think of animals, in which blue eyes would sometimes signify an abnormality. A smile creeped across his face, an unstable woman was looking after him? A true act of providence with virtually no strings attached. The smile grew…

 

…then faded instantly. The door was thrown open; his night guard was bringing him food. The tray of slop, dry bread, and dingy water made a cacophony of sound as it hit the ground. The spoon rocketed into his cell and skipped on the floor before skidding to a rugged stop at the edge of the frayed mat. Ozai moved to sit up, the unwoven straws scratching through his prison clothes. The night guard grumbled a few rude comments before stalking out of the room and slamming the door shut. Such insolence would've had him burnt to a crisp when Ozai had been Fire Lord, but as he pulled the crumbling bread through the bars, he'd resigned himself to being a bitter old man in a cage.

 

He thought of his brother. Where was Iroh now? While regret was not a feeling the ex-Fire Lord understood, he did feel a tinge of it, wondering what his family was doing now. As he broke his bread in half, he thought about birthdays and dinners and all those good memories he'd rent from not only his family, but from himself. It only served to make his cell darker, more humiliating. He thought of his daughter, who was currently howling like a wolfbat in her own cell many level below him. She'd become power hungry, fed on by her father, and now was tangled in length after length of chain. Those things had probably rubbed her wrists raw on more than one occasion. How many guards did it take to change her chains when she had bloodied them, he wondered. Did they change them at all, or did they just let her suffer?

 

“Probably just let her suffer.”

 

His thoughts went back to his day guard. There was definitely something off with her and that kind of weakness left an open window of opportunity for him. He first just had to figure out what was so unstable about her and exploit it.

 

The bread tasted like borcupine needles on his tongue. If there was anyone he still felt no empathy for, it would be prisoners. He couldn't care less about their plight, even for having been here as long as he had. To him, he was not wrong, but wronged by those who would belittle his nation's power. That power which he longed to have back, power that was now just beyond his bars.

 

***

 

Zuko's temple was throbbing and no matter how hard he pressed his fingers to them, the pain would not subside. He'd scoured the entire region his father had said Ursa had been exiled to, but nothing. The home that the villagers led him to was empty; although it held signs that someone still lived there. He wanted to stay until she, or anyone living in the home, returned, but a messenger hawk brought him away. Mai had begun to not feel well. The physicians believed she was pregnant. However, by the time he'd returned, it was just a cold, but had escalated by that time. So he stayed by his wife's side until she was better. By then it was time to start honorably discharging general of war and presenting medals and honorary titles to soldiers and families.

 

He'd left a letter at the house, bearing the official Fire Nation seal, repealing her exile and requesting her immediate return to the Fire Nation Kingdom. He could only pray at this point that she would see it and return.

 

“Zuko, you're not asleep yet?” came the groggy voice of Mai. The sheets ruffled and pulled tight around their bodies as she rolled to face him. She looked tired, the product of many sleepless and congested nights. Zuko reached out and stroked her hair, so very soft and long when it was down for the night, “I'm sure your mother will come.”

 

She smiled sleepily, a look Zuko adored. As she curled up into him, he relaxed. She was right, his mother would come back. He wouldn't doubt it, even for a moment, but… what if… when she did return, she asked about her husband? Could he tell his gentle mother that her husband and daughter were locked away, the ultimate enemies to peace? He furrowed his brow, troubled once again. She would not be sad, but she would definitely be disappointed. That would not be an appropriate greeting…

 

`Mom, you're home… and by the way, your husband and youngest child are being treated like beasts in the Dead Volcano Prison. A feast in your honor, we shall have!'

 

Yeah, right, but what would he tell her?

 

He draped an arm over Mai and pulled her close. The last thing he wanted was for his mother to arrive and be instantly distraught…

 

“Father…”