Safe & Sound | Book 1

4: Commander Zhao

Art: Artist Not Found

Pressed and dried, all of my clothes had been returned to me. It was a lot warmer in the officers' quarters - even more so for someone who had only ever known ice. I was half tempted to not get dressed again but the self-important prince had the tendency to barge in without warning. At the very least I removed the sleeves of my tunic revealing the silver band wrapped around my left arm. I usually tried not to look at it much but I never took it off.

There was a knock on the door - it obviously wasn't Zuko. I called out my permission but didn't look up from the desk I was sitting at. Zuko was the only person that concerned me. He was liable to have a mood swing and kick me back to the cells. He threatened it daily. Every day he asked me where the Avatar and every day I told him that I didn't know and each time he'd get all riled up before stomping out. It was honestly becoming my main source of amusement.

When no one spoke right away, I looked up to see Iroh was the one to enter. He smiled warmly at me but I just turned away again. I had neither positive nor negative feelings towards the man - admittedly, they'd like to be positive if he wasn't Fire Nation, he was shockingly kind.

"We've docked at the harbor," he informed.

"I think I should stay here, if someone looks at me wrong I might attack, right?" I joked, knowing that this was exactly how most of the Fire Nation people most likely looked at me. The savage water tribe girl, as unpredictable as a wild animal.

He chuckled. "I don't think that's our fear, maybe the other way around though."

I looked back at him. He was worried about someone else hurting me? "I can take care of myself."

"I know," he assured. "I had to mend Zuko's wound. You're very good with a bow and arrow," he complimented.

"There's a war going on," I turned back to the desk, "someone has to be able to fight in our village."

He stepped closer, peering over my shoulder. "And the ability to paint to it appears."

I raised my brush from the yellowing parchment I'd been focused on. While Zuko was my main source of amusement, he did only come once a day and I had to find something else to keep from going insane. There was some writing ink in the desk and a few spare pieces of parchment that had likely been forgotten since the ship was first stocked.

My painting skills were nothing impressive. It was a very raw, black and white picture of a small plot of land, maybe an island, with a pool of water in the center and an archway behind it. It was an image that often pestered my late night thoughts before I fell asleep but nothing too unusual. "I just found that it keeps me calm, and it helps me keep my steady hand."

"Who taught you?"

"No one, I self-taught."

"How about your bending?" he inquired. "I was under the impression that there were no more waterbenders in the Southern Water Tribe. Who taught you?"