You Can’t Take Me (I’m Free)

by prettypinkrioting

Notes:

Hi hello oops I’m here now teehee

I’ve loved this fandom since the early days and then the renaissance happened what’s up fuckers >:D

Anyway, if you’re reading this, you clearly care about little ol’ me, I’m flattered, truly. Please listen to ‘You can’t take me’ by Bryan Adams when reading this I had it on loop the entire time and it fits Zuko so good imo :]

and then she said more chapters, so every one of them is named after a Bryan Adams song from Spirit I’m not even sorry that’s such a god-tier movie and the soundtrack goes. Hard. Mwuah :3

Also, disclaimers time: a character from the Avatar comics is here, but you don’t have to have read them to read this. Her name is Biyu and she’s from Suki Alone, but I’ve not read that book so I’ve taken some creative liberty with her.
TW: dehumanisation, muzzles, the boiling rock in general.

Anyway, have a good day/night, and hydro check, drink some water while you’re reading this it’s good for u i prommy :)

Chapter 1: i. sound the bugle

Summary:

A little bit of backstory to send you on your way.

Notes:

Haha i didn’t know the warden’s name so i made one up it means ‘jailor’ in traditional Chinese (according to google) I’m so funny /j

Fr tho i suck at names so forgive me lmao

Go drink some water u dehydrated mf love u <3

On the faithful day that Prince Zuko dared to question that general in his father’s war meeting, dread wasn’t something that accompanied the mix of feelings that swirled in his stomach. He knew what he did was right - 15,000 soldiers would die if what the old general had put forward been permitted by his father. His father wouldn’t do that though…

 

He was sure of himself - the general was old, fat and hadn’t seen combat in years . Zuko, on the other hand, was young, agile and his firebending was coming along nicely (according to Uncle). He wasn’t as good as Azula, but that was like asking the moon to shine brighter than the sun: it simply couldn’t be done. He was slowly making his peace with this.

 

After Zuko was dismissed, he fled to his room before Uncle could stop him, locking the door. He had work to do.

 

The next day, in the Agni Kai stadium - a large hall with walls lined with tightly packed bleachers of nobles and high-ranking militia personnel. The grand torches swelled with the roaring screams of the surrounding crowd (an audience to his own destruction) and Zuko shrugged off the scarlet sash from his shoulders, letting it flutter to the floor, carried by Agni’s judgemental rays.

 

He twirled on his heels with practised agility, fists coming closer to his core with defensive instinct (one didn’t live with Azula without some defensive instincts). The portly, stout silhouette of the general didn’t greet him, rather the tall, intimidating, larger than life outline of his father. Broad shoulders that blocked out the sun when they towered over him, jet black hair that consumed all light and joy. No escape.

 

While preparing for his Agni Kai, Zuko had looked over the rules - he hadn’t wanted his victory against the general to be illegitimate because of a dumb mistake (Zuko often made dumb mistakes).

 

A rule that wasn’t included in the ancient scrolls the Sages had provided him with is what one should do when facing off against the Fire Lord.

 

Should one refuse to fight in an Agni Kai, their honour is stripped from them by Agni himself. The punishment for the display of cowardice and disgrace is decided by Agni’s mortal representative.

 

The rules were very specific. However, another learnt through the arduous tutoring he’s had his entire life stuck out just as much.

 

Attacking the Fire Lord is a crime to never be forgiven. The punishment is decided by the Fire Lord himself.

 

Regardless of what Zuko does here, he isn’t getting out unscathed. The rules clearly state so, and father always follows the rules.

 

Always.

 

Closing his mouth from where he had been foolishly gaping, Zuko doesn’t drop to his knees. He doesn’t beg. He doesn’t plead with all the desperation of a child wishing for even a mild modicum of love. Instead, he does what he’s been training to do his entire life.

 

He stands, chest out, defences dropping, chin held high with honour, and he fights.

 

Just like father ordered.

 

“ Fight, Prince Zuko .”

 

Deliberately disobeying the Fire Lord’s direct order is treason by order of Agni’s divine rule. The punishment is decided by the Fire Lord himself.

 

They meet in the middle, fists blazing.

 

Zuko tires quickly. What was he thinking? The Fire Lord’s bending is charged by the sun itself, the ruler bathed in Agni’s divine glow upon his coronation podium.

 

Zuko never stood a chance, regardless of what he might’ve done on the (then) spotless marble stage.

 

By the time father Fire Lord Ozai had finished his gruelling punishment on the family disgrace, the marble was stained by melted skin and scorch marks.

 

The screams echoed around the stadium for significantly less time than they did in Zuko’s head.

 

His screams.

 

When he woke next, finally fully lucid, he was lying on a thin futon without a blanket. The metal room was barren apart from the poor excuse of a bed and a thick metal door. He looked up, blearily, and the small metal hatch slid open to reveal two smug tawny eyes, glistening with malicious mirth. He didn’t recognise the voice or the eyes, but he would become very familiar in the years to come.

 

The voice cackled, then spoke with such open sarcasm and disgust that Zuko felt himself physically recoil.

 

“Welcome to the Boiling Rock, your highness .”

 

---

 

When Warden Yuzu was sent notice from the Palace itself that he’d be receiving a high-risk prisoner, he was expecting some unruly assassin that hadn’t been killed in the in-house interrogations. Perhaps a servant that had seen too much - you know how it is, the royals love their secrets.

 

Although, when the freshly scarred and far-too-delirious (ex-)Prince Zuko was marched off the gondola, Yuzu couldn’t say he wasn’t intrigued.

 

The boy swayed on his feet where he stood, freshly shawn hair cropped closely to his scalp. Vibrant golden eyes were slightly foggy with delirium, and if the heat radiating off the boy was anything to go by, the bright red burn branding half of his face was infected. It certainly looked inflamed enough.

 

He looked too small when stood next to the towering criminals that accompanied him. None of them dared to look at him though, smart enough to watch the metal platform’s surface if they weren’t smart enough to stay inside the binds of the law.

 

Regardless of his pathetic stature and clear delirium, the boy was a criminal. He clearly did something to warrant a sentence at Yuzu’s own inescapable fortress of pain (oh how he loved it so).

 

“Welcome to the Boiling Rock. Get comfortable: we’ve never had a successful escape attempt and I highly doubt any of you would ruin my perfect record.”

 

Yuzu turned to one of his guards - he didn’t know which, they all looked the same under their armour, and it wasn’t like it was important to know your staff - and snapped, “Bring me the files.”

 

The guard - a young lady - jumped at his tone, and scampered to hand him the parchment. He flicked through them impatiently, skimming the crimes and sentences. Murder, desertion, Murder, Theft, etc. Nothing new. Then, his eyes stilled on one word that filled him with a strong sense of anticipation.

 

Treason.

 

The boy committed treason.

 

Against his own father?

 

Eh, the youth can be rebellious nowadays.

 

Yuzu looked up, “Oh, treason eh?”

 

The other prisoners in the line reacted, but only slightly. Just the aborted shifting of eyes to land on the boy before returning to their analysing of the metal platform, or hitching of eyebrows. The boy, on the other hand, didn’t react apart from a slow blink.

 

“Oh, you’ll be a fun nut to crack.”

Notes:

Kudos pour moi? *jingles cup* s’il vous plaît? J’ai un besoin de l’appréciation :)

Chapter 2: ii. get off my back

Summary:

Fast forward, Suki’s struggling in prison. Thankfully, she makes a friend, and then she’s not without a familiar face for long.

Notes:

HYDROCHECK MOTHERFUCKER GET SOME WATER >:D

After the failed invasion (not Sokka’s failed invasion, he couldn’t have known-), Suki found herself in a situation stickier than she would’ve appreciated to be in alone.

 

Big oppressive building? Check. Boiling lake? Check. In jail? Check. Alone? Check. In the Fire Nation? Check.

 

So yeah, Suki was really missing the comforting presence of the other Kyoshi Warriors at her flank.

 

The Boiling Rock was as intimidating as all the Earth Kingdom horror stories had let her to believe. It was a colossus of brick and steel, great shoulders of caged watch-towers and covered in the crawling ant army of red and gold uniforms. It was disgusting.

 

Suki huffed, a sense of righteous rebellion stirring in her gut.

 

‘ It’s okay ’ a voice that sounded suspiciously like Sokka soothed in her mind, ‘ All ya gotta do is survive until the others get here. They won’t leave you in here .’

 

A more miserable voice she couldn’t pinpoint the timbre of muttered a pessimistic ‘hopefully’.

 

Being marched through the halls of the beast of metal was almost worse than the suspense of the slow and oppressive gondola. Every step rattled her bones, sent an echo through the towering halls, and took her closer and closer to her fate.

 

The rebellious feeling continued to grow.

 

Her cell wasn’t anything special - just a pathetically flat pillow and a mat that was probably the cheapest futon on the market - and soon enough Suki was being shoved into a large room stuffed with metal benches lined around the room.

 

‘Hmm’, she hummed, ‘a cafeteria.’

 

Food wasn’t a priority here, it seemed, since the chef sneered as he plopped some reddish goop onto her metal tray. Was everything here red or metal?

 

Trying to find a seat was like trying to pass her Kyoshi Warrior entrance test all over again. Finally, she found a seat next to a girl with reddish hair and golden eyes.

 

“What’re you in for?” Suki asked, voice casual. Maybe a friend in here was what she needed.

 

The girl turned to her, and this girl couldn’t have even been 20 yet, face still a little round but eyes holding this haunted look one only had when they’d seen the true force of the Fire Nation - like looking the fury of the sun in the eye through the golden blaze of a pale fist. The young face twisted into a scowl.

 

“People don’t appreciate being asked that here.” She growled, picking up a dumpling from her tray and taking an obnoxious bite, “You’ll do well to avoid that question.”

 

“Oh,” Suki said, wincing, ”Sorry. I’m Suki.”

 

The girl huffed, side-eyeing Suki, “Biyu.” She grunted.

 

Suki smiled at here despite the gruff exterior, digging into her goop. Shit that was spicy.

 

Silence gripped them, before Biyu spoke again, voice still slightly surly, “You new?”

 

Suki nodded, “Came in this morning.”

 

Biyu looked a little surprised at that, “Oh fuck, you’re new -new.”

 

Suki snorted - in a weird way, this girl reminded her of Sokka.

 

Biyu scoffed, the breath laced with mirth, “Whatever. You clearly need someone to look out for you, Newbie. So, what’re you in for?”

 

Biyu’s eyes held some quality to them that Suki hadn’t seen since she was selected to be the leader of the Kyoshi Warriors - she was in a test. Unspoken and unplanned, but a test nonetheless.

 

Suki jutted out her chin, tension in her shoulders melting into something planned and practiced; faux confidence, “None o’ ya business.” She declared.

 

Biyu was still for a second, but that second was enough time for Suki’s mind to begin racing - did she do something wrong? Did she fail the test?

 

Then, the second passed, and Biyu’s face dissolved into a wolffish grin.

 

“You and me are gonna get along just fine, Newbie.”

Notes:

Whenever I’m concocting these chapters, just imagine me over a cauldron with large glass beakers with ridiculously fluorescent mystery liquids inside them labelled ‘angst’, ‘hurt’, ‘feels’, etc. And I’m giggling maniacally and I’m stimming tonnes and then randomly, it all stops, and then I pull out a tiny pouch that has a peeling label that says ‘comfort’ on it and I toss in a single peppercorn of the stuff. Speaking of comfort, I’m not giving you your single peppercorn of comfort yet, besties, sorry :P