Prisoner | An ATLA Fanfic | ZukoxOC

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙾𝚗𝚎

Art by me

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Chains rattled against stone. Someone coughed dryly in the darkness.

A young girl, barely sixteen, tried in vain to rub her wrist, to alleviate the chaffing of the chains in any way. She was among the dozen being held in this dry cell, and among thousands being held slave by the fire nation. They would be held in that cell until the workers outside dropped from exhaustion, then they would be rotated.

La'kea slumped against the uncomfortably warm stone wall, her mouth dry and throat aching for even a trickle of fresh water. She could not even lift her hand to run it through her tangled and dark matted hair. Her feet and hands chained together in a manner that prevented her from bending what little water was available. The fire nation was smart, for the water bending slaves they had were kept in specialized cells, even the air barely held any water.

Nobody was keeping track of how long they had been there, stolen from their homes so long ago it took effort to remember the place. La'akea was no different, but some nights, if she thought hard she could hear the wind blowing through the palm leaves, and the splash of the surf against sand. But the memories brought pain of what she had lost, she stopped trying to remember.

Whispers filtered through the cell walls, gossip and news brought from the slaves working in the palace high above them. La'kea had long since gotten over her puzzlement from how different the fire nation was from herself, but she still leaned forward eagerly whenever someone brought something new.

Stories of a cruel Fire Lord, and his two children, of his wife who suddenly vanished in the middle of the night. La'kea shuddered at the thought of what could have happened to her.

One night, she was awoken by the hushed and hurried whispers of the guards. Opening her eyes, La'kea saw someone different for a change. This person wasn't a guard, or a warden, they spoke softly, their clothes were perfectly pristine. Someone from the palace.

They seemed to be arguing with the guards, and apparently won as the guard started sliding open the cell door. Everyone else began sitting up, La'kea could feel the fear in the air, something was wrong and it involved them. Had they been ordered to work double shifts? Triple shifts?

"Which one of you barbarians here is a healer?" The guard snapped.

No one answered.

La'kea's heart hammered in her chest, but she forced herself to steady her breathing, not giving anything away. Were they finally going to start executing them? Had the efforts of keeping them in prison outweighed their labor?

"Come now," The guard sneered, "How about this, if you can tell me who here is a healer, you'll get double rations."

A swell of small pride filled La'kea as none of them budged, they would not turn on each other. Not for the people that had imprisoned them.

The guard, clearly fed up with their silent rebellion, stomped into the cell and looked around at the water benders. Fire exploded above his hands, and La'kea pressed herself against the wall farther, fully expecting her heart to give out any second. "Which one of you is a healer?" He ground out.

La'kea flinched.

"You," The guard growled, and to her horror, grabbed La'kea's arm, "You best be a healer, girl, cause if you get up there and can't do anything, well..." Flames flickered above his free hand.

There was no point in hiding it now, if only to spare someone else stuck in this cell, "I..." Her once soft voice was raspy from lack of water and use, "I am a healer."