Chapter Text
Chapter One
Zuko was angry. Angry at his father, angry at his uncle, angry at his crew, but mostly… he was angry at himself.
His father wouldn’t have had to burn and banish him if he’d just been better. His uncle wouldn’t have had to follow him into exile if he’d just kept quiet. And his crew wouldn’t be in this much trouble if Zuko hadn’t let Zhao know how much he hated him, and then let his crew get drunk in Zhao‘s port.
Zhao had seen Zuko’s crew and decided to talk to them. Akimo had decided- for some unknown reason- that getting roaring drunk, insulting Zhao, and then assaulting Zhao was a good idea.
Zhao had gotten out without much more than a scratch- but the fight had still happened. And attacking a superior officer- even one not in your direct line of command- was a punishable offense.
Zhao was going to kill Akimo. He would say it was an accident. All whippings were attended by a doctor, who told the guard when to stop to preserve the life of the condemned. If Zhao bribed or threatened the doctor, he could very easily get away with killing one of Zuko’s men.
Zuko sat on his bed in his room, staring at the door. Zhao would be able to get away with killing Akimo, but Zhao wouldn’t get away with killing a prince- even a banished one.
It would hurt. And Zuko was afraid.
&&&
It was windy. And far too cold out. The storm clouds had just left, taking all the heat with them, and though Zuko could see the sun the cold and the metal all around made feeling the sun more difficult.
The whole crew, along with uncle, were assembled. Uncle looked... concerned as he glanced over at the doctor. Perhaps he knew that Zuko was going to do something stupid. Uncle couldn’t stop him though. He wasn’t technically in the chain of command on the ship- he couldn’t stand in for Akimo. Zuko could.
Zhao read out the charges and Zuko could see him smirk. Akimo stepped forward with a straight face, but Zuko could see his fear. Zuko wondered if he knew that he was going to die.
Zuko found himself stepping forward. “As commanding officer of the Wani I take full responsibility for Akimo’s actions.”
The entire crew seemed frozen, Akimo most of all. Zhao’s eyebrow rose, though he did not seem entirely displeased.
“As commanding officer, you accept his decisions as your own and take his punishment?” Zhao asked.
“Yes.” Zuko spat the word out.
Zuko pointedly did not look Uncle’s direction. Or Akimo’s. Or at the rest of the crew. Or at Zhao. Which just left the sky. It was a pretty sky. He liked the color. And the sun- even if it was cold.
Zuko found himself shirtless, hands tied above his head to the whipping post. He made sure to breathe evenly. Just breathe. After all, how bad could it be? The first lash struck.
... it was bad.
&&&
Mushi was a doctor and proud of it. He’d trained for years to help people- only to end up in the military where those he stitched up left to try at dying again and again and again. Eventually, they all seemed to succeed.
He hated watching whippings- hated that he had the power to stop them but that if he stopped them to soon, he would lose everything- knowing he was choosing himself over whatever poor soul was stuck to the pole. He hated hearing the crack of the whip against flesh, seeing the blood well up to the surface, hearing the men whimper. It was worse when the commander changed him to this role at the last moment- whispering threats of what would happen if Mushi stopped the beating in time to save the man’s life.
That had been a different condemned though. This boy was only 15. And he was a prince. And his Uncle, the Dragon of the West, was breathing... oddly. That didn’t seem like a good sign.
The boy could handle more- Mushi knew that- but he thought that perhaps his uncle couldn’t.
“Stop!” He yelled as the guard threw his arm back once again. “That is enough.”
Zhao looked like he was on the verge of protesting. Then he finally looked away from the whipping and seemed to catch a glimpse of General Iroh, one of the very few people in this world who could shoot lightning. He remained silent.
&&&
Akimo helped General Iroh cut Prince Zuko down from the whipping post. They lay him on his stomach in a stretcher the doctor Mushi had fetched for them. Mushi cleaned and bandaged his back, muttering all the while, before nodding that they could go. The prince was barely conscious- probably better that way. He couldn’t yell as loud
Lieutenant Jee helped Akimo lift the stretcher, Akimo on the back end and Jee on the front as they took off- as smoothly as they could- back towards the ship.
&&&
General Iroh sat with the Prince. They had taken him to the infirmary and finished off the work Mushi hadn’t done back at the whipping post. There was... a lot of blood there. An uncomfortable amount that left Akimo wondering how much blood he would be spilling if he’d been the one tied to the post.
The prince was fifteen. He also had a very powerful uncle. Akimo had neither a powerful uncle- nor youth. Most people liked beating children even less than they liked beating regular people.
Still- it bothered him that the prince had taken his place. What in Agni’s name had inspired him to do such a thing?
Akimo turned to Lieutenant Jee. Everyone knew why the prince had been banished- cowardice. Shameful weakness. “How did he get banished for cowardice?” He asked. Jee just shrugged.
&&&
Akimo knew a painkiller- expensive, addictive if used for extended periods, slightly illegal but incredibly effective. He brought it to General Iroh, who managed to look incredibly pleased and disappointed in Akimo at the same time.
Akimo suggested that they use it sparingly. The general agreed.
&&&
Most of the crew was in the mess hall. The food was particularly good this day, it seemed the cook was trying to cheer General Iroh up to. The General looked like he hadn’t slept for the last three days since the prince had taken Akimo’s punishment. Maybe he hadn’t.
The General took his meal in the infirmary by the prince. The crew took the absence of both princes very well.
And, suddenly, the mess hall wasn’t so empty of royalty. The banished prince stumbled in, walking with the deliberate step of a man who’d had too much to drink and knew it.
The mess hall quieted. Lieutenant Jee stood up. “Is there something you need sir?” He asked.
The Prince blinked, hard, before putting a finger to his lips. “Uncle is sleeping,” he whispered loudly, “We need to be quiet.”
He laughed then. Akimo found himself exchanging glances with the men to either side of him. Who’d of guessed the prince would be a happy drunk? And how long could they keep him like this?
The ship’s doctor looked mildly concerned. “What are you doing out of bed?” He asked.
The prince shrugged. “I was laying there and then it stopped hurting and uncle was asleep, but you were all being so loud. You were going to wake him up- so I snuck away.” He grinned then, and the expression looked… unnatural on the face that was so usually hidden in a scowl. It was also oddly endearing. “I’m really good at sneaking.” He said, in the same mock whisper from before.
Akimo wasn’t sure whether he was good at sneaking or the General was just a very deep sleeper, but either way the prince was here and the General was back at the infirmary.
The doctor failed to be reassured. “Just because it doesn’t hurt doesn’t mean that it’s actually healed.”
The prince opened his mouth to argue, hesitated, then closed it. “That’s true.” He said, and his voice was almost awed. “’Cause my face doesn’t hurt but it also doesn’t look quite
right.” He nodded. “You’re… super… super smart.” He stumbled slightly to the right.
The doctor looked torn between grinning and wincing. Akimo was intrigued. Apparently, it took getting the kid drunk to give them a compliment. Well, the kid wasn’t drunk, just drugged, but that didn’t change much.
The prince was weaving slightly, back and forth, in the doorway and Akimo felt a spike of concern. If he fell- even if the painkiller was good enough to keep him from feeling it now, he’d feel it later.
“Why don’t we get you back to the infirmary,” the doctor said, standing, echoing Akimo’s thoughts.
The prince cocked his head to the side. “I just left the infirmary. Why would I want to go back?”
And he’s back. Akimo thought, sighing to himself. Being drugged couldn’t completely change a person’s personality.
The doctor sighed. “If you fall down, even if it doesn’t hurt now, it’ll hurt later.”
The prince opened his mouth wide, but he didn’t yell, instead he appeared to consider the doctor’s words. “Could I just sit down here then?” he asked, waving vaguely at the room around him.
The doctor hesitated, and Akimo wished that he’d say no. He didn’t though. He just helped the prince over to a table. The prince didn’t sit down. “Can I… get some food first?” he asked, “It smells… super good.”
The cook couldn’t have been more surprised is the Avatar showed up. The prince had done nothing but complain about the food since he’d taken command.
The doctor hesitated for a moment. “Of course.”
The prince stumbled over to the plates and served himself a generous portion before making his shaky way across the room and sitting down. The fact that he hadn’t spilled all of it was a miracle.
He started eating and the crew began talking again. Akimo let himself drift back into the conversation until he could almost ignore the slightly hunched figure who’d taken his punishment for him.