The gangway groaned on its gears. Zuko sat on the futon in the middle of the storeroom the others had cleaned out for him and his uncle and listened to the engines die. The others were leaving the ship, even his uncle, but Zuko couldn’t. He had missed... He had missed being on a ship anyway.
His crutch lay across his knees, just waiting for him to use it again, to get up and hobble up to the deck and off the ship.
It was cold that far north, even in the summer, and the storage rooms were far away from the engines. Zuko curled around himself, gazing at the closed door.
~*~
The wheels rumbled over the iron floor, and bounced over the rows of rivets, holding the iron plates together. The sound echoed off the walls, cutting through the talking and laughing in the hall, moving closer to the storeroom door. Zuko flopped down on the futon and yanked the blanket up over his head, pretending to be asleep.
The door screeched open, setting Zuko’s teeth on edge. Before his stupid, traitorous mind caught up with everything else, the idea that he should have whoever forgot to oil the hinges flogged flashed across it. Then he remembered he wasn’t on his own ship anymore. He never thought he would miss it.
“Zuko,” his uncle called into the room. Zuko ignored him and stayed curled up on the futon. “Look who I found.”
Zuko kept his breathing slow and even, as he really was asleep. Or meditating. He couldn’t let the candles in the room flicker, or Uncle would know.
“I’ll just go,” the boy who had followed his uncle in said awkwardly. “You know, come back when he’s awake.”
“No.” Uncle lowered himself down onto the futon next to his nephew and put a hand on his shoulder. Zuko stiffened. “Stay.”
“No, really-” the boy insisted.
“Zuko,” Uncle said gently. “No one could sleep through that door opening.”
“Go away.” He couldn’t- He didn’t know how his uncle could stand staying with these people who were gathering together ti invade their home, to be friendly with them, and pretend it didn’t- Zuko had betrayed his country in every way that mattered. He was a traitor. He should be hunted down and killed for it.
“Uh,” The boy with the goggles let out miserably.
“Prince Zuko,” Uncle pulled the blanket down, off his nephew’s head. “Be polite.”
Zuko just felt trapped. Everything was closing in on him. Sitting up on the futon, he wrapped the blanket around his legs and glanced up sullenly at the boy who had followed his uncle in. Zuko’s good eye widened as he sank further back into the shadows. He recognized him, and it made him feel sick.
Uncle patted his nephew’s shoulder reassuringly. “I will leave you two alone.”
Zuko gritted his teeth and watched him go. “Hey.”
The boy with the goggles rolled closer to the futon. “I remember you,” he told him, at a loss. “You were wearing green and brown then, too.”
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branchandroot
Zuko Hurt His Leg on the Run and it Won’t Heal: No Drinking, but There's Teo and Zuko Bonding pt 1
Date: 2010-10-13 05:39 pm (UTC)His crutch lay across his knees, just waiting for him to use it again, to get up and hobble up to the deck and off the ship.
It was cold that far north, even in the summer, and the storage rooms were far away from the engines. Zuko curled around himself, gazing at the closed door.
~*~
The wheels rumbled over the iron floor, and bounced over the rows of rivets, holding the iron plates together. The sound echoed off the walls, cutting through the talking and laughing in the hall, moving closer to the storeroom door. Zuko flopped down on the futon and yanked the blanket up over his head, pretending to be asleep.
The door screeched open, setting Zuko’s teeth on edge. Before his stupid, traitorous mind caught up with everything else, the idea that he should have whoever forgot to oil the hinges flogged flashed across it. Then he remembered he wasn’t on his own ship anymore. He never thought he would miss it.
“Zuko,” his uncle called into the room. Zuko ignored him and stayed curled up on the futon. “Look who I found.”
Zuko kept his breathing slow and even, as he really was asleep. Or meditating. He couldn’t let the candles in the room flicker, or Uncle would know.
“I’ll just go,” the boy who had followed his uncle in said awkwardly. “You know, come back when he’s awake.”
“No.” Uncle lowered himself down onto the futon next to his nephew and put a hand on his shoulder. Zuko stiffened. “Stay.”
“No, really-” the boy insisted.
“Zuko,” Uncle said gently. “No one could sleep through that door opening.”
“Go away.” He couldn’t- He didn’t know how his uncle could stand staying with these people who were gathering together ti invade their home, to be friendly with them, and pretend it didn’t- Zuko had betrayed his country in every way that mattered. He was a traitor. He should be hunted down and killed for it.
“Uh,” The boy with the goggles let out miserably.
“Prince Zuko,” Uncle pulled the blanket down, off his nephew’s head. “Be polite.”
Zuko just felt trapped. Everything was closing in on him. Sitting up on the futon, he wrapped the blanket around his legs and glanced up sullenly at the boy who had followed his uncle in. Zuko’s good eye widened as he sank further back into the shadows. He recognized him, and it made him feel sick.
Uncle patted his nephew’s shoulder reassuringly. “I will leave you two alone.”
Zuko gritted his teeth and watched him go. “Hey.”
The boy with the goggles rolled closer to the futon. “I remember you,” he told him, at a loss. “You were wearing green and brown then, too.”