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Dragon's prey	By : ajj77sunhawk Category: Avatar - The Last Airbender > Slash - Male/Male > Sokka/Zuko Views: 20843 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar, and I do not make any money from these writings.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
Thanks everyone, I am plotting a way to make most of you happy, keeping in mind the major arguments what happens in the fic. That part of the story will come later, for now enjoy the developing relationship. Real sorry I cant respond to the reviews in this chappie, am going to Turkey for a conference/holiday next week and have a LOT of work to catch up with so am pressed for time. So do enjoy.

Brukleflesche, thanks sooo much for proof reading, you rock in spades.

Read, REVIEW and Enjoy

Chapter 10 : The Chilling Cries

Sokka fumed and his thoughts chased around in his head as he paced along the corridors of his apartment—cell, actually. The vines and silk hangings brushed against his skin, sending tiny shudders throughout his system. He was changing, and it frightened him. When that bloody Zuko was in the room, Sokka found all his cognitive abilities impaired. Any ideas and objections he had disappeared when those golden eyes focused on him, his body turned traitor, and everything in him leaned towards the Fire Lord. It was too much, much too much. Sokka was changing, and why the hell was he accepting it? Too many things were going Zuko's way; it was frustrating, totally unacceptable. Bloody Fire Nation… Sokka was not going to simply roll over, no way. He took a deep breath. Without Zuko around, his brain worked just fine.

Blue eyes narrowed. Such a pretty prison, and there had never been a prison that could hold a Water Tribesman. Sokka winced, his blue eyes dimmed, and his shoulders drooped. Well…in his case, ex-Water Tribesman. The pain tore at his heart, as raw as it had been the day he left. Sokka sagged against the wall; it hurt, so damn much.

Who the hell was he? Did anyone notice he was gone? Had anyone even missed him? Katara…Aang...Zuko...he could count them in one hand. God, he was pathetic. A nation-less wanderer... A dry sob he could not suppress escaped his lips.

He wanted to go home so badly...but he didn't have a home anymore. Zuko was fooling himself – stupid Fire Lord. Sokka had to save the dummy from the worst mistake of his life. When Zuko finally came to the realization that all the others had, that Sokka was surplus to requirements, extra baggage, just a foolish clown of a warrior, insignificant next to the benders...it would destroy Sokka. He had to leave before Zuko threw him out. He had to.... Sokka felt empty and horribly alone. He hit the base of his palm against his head. Stupid warrior. Hard decisions... Sokka would make them. He took a long, gasping breath. His eyes focused on the high windows.

**

The great doors of the Fire Lord's hall opened quietly. Four guards and two equally out of breath but terrified women entered the throne room. They did not make a sound, but the Fire Lord's head jerked up, golden eyes narrowed as he recognized his Prey's guards. Blood rushed into the scar as he slowly got to his feet. Zuko kept his hair slightly longer than his shoulders, a part of it wrapped in his crown on the top of his head. The powerfully built chest and tall frame were intimidating, but the steam rising around him, the sparks flickering as his inner flame ignited the air were much, much more so.

The six fell to grovel before the pure power and growing rage of the Fire Lord. "SPEAK!" Zuko snapped.

"He is gone, my Lord; your Prey is not in the chambers," the head guard said, terrified, sure those would be his last words on this earth. Instead all he felt was a breeze as the Fire Lord shot out of the chambers, Savin and his bodyguards running quickly after him. General Iroh, who had arrived that day for his nephew's upcoming unification ceremony, was left to reassure the guards and concubines that they were not at fault. Their Lord's Prey was a brilliant tactician, and the fact he could get away reflected well on the Fire Lord for his choice of consort. Seeing it from that perspective, the guards were relieved. Their pride in serving such a man would come later, once he was safely back with them.

Zuko burst into the apartments and found the live unique scent of Sokka was missing. Still the Lord raced through each room, taking note that some of the hangings were gone. Out in the garden, he looked up and saw the silks still hanging from the high grating. His hands igniting, Zuko propelled himself to the ceiling. He caught hold of the grating and examined it. Savin joined him a few seconds later.

"Savin, how the hell can cloth have enough strength to bend iron?" Zuko looked at the cloth. It was twisted around the grating in a figure-eight. The long ends had been twirled and the metal had bent just enough for someone to slip out.

Savin examined the cloth and let out a whistling breath. "Wet silk is extremely strong, my Lord, but Sokka has added cloth made from hair of the badgermoles, mooselions, spiderotters, and I can't recognize the rest. The materials in this cloth, My Lord, when combined are stronger then any metal wire. How the hell did Sokka know to do this and combine the clothes so perfectly?" Savin said with slight awe. The cloth Sokka had used was a work of art, for the right quantities of all the different materials woven together made the sum infinitely stronger than the separate parts. Savin intended to keep the creation for reproduction.

Zuko groaned and laid his head on the grating. "How the hell can I be proud of him, and so damned angry that he actually did escape at the same time?" The Dragon Spirit roared inside him. His Prey was out there, away from him. It was NOT acceptable; it would never be acceptable. Sokka was HIS, only THAT was acceptable. Zuko's eyes burned. "FIND HIM! Find what is mine, Savin!" Zuko ordered as he dropped to the floor, the hole in the grating a little too small for him to slip through. He made his way swiftly to the roof.

"Consider it done, my Lord," Savin said, already calling for the guards to send up a soldier slender enough to fit though the opening.

Four hours later, the largest man-hunt in the Fire Nation capital since the quest for the Avatar was still ongoing. The warrior seemed to have left no clues, so the search was a meticulous door-to-door process, fanning out from the palace. Zuko was getting more and more agitated and Savin was worried. The Prey seemed to have disappeared into thin air, and Zuko cursed ever having challenged Sokka to escape. He had totally expected to find Sokka in the first hour after his flight. This aching emptiness he felt was unbearable.

The sun sank low as dusk crept in. The Prey's apartments were finally silent; the grating had been removed and would be replaced the next morning. The unnatural stillness in the apartments that had contained the exuberance of young blue-eyed man was alien. A heaving of water suddenly broke the silence in the empty room. Slowly a creature covered fully in mud rose out of the small pond.

Sokka spat out the reed he had used to breathe for the last five hours or so, his movements hardly causing a ripple in the water. He ducked once to rid himself of the mud he had used to hide his scent. Moving confidently and swiftly, he exchanged his clothes for dry ones and made his way out. As he had expected, the hallways were empty, the guards all sent out to search for him. Smiling in grim satisfaction, Sokka snuck through the palace. He came to what seemed to be a private room and slipped inside. There he found Fire Nation robes and the masks that they commonly wore. Sokka would have preferred a guard's uniform, but the courtiers' clothes would have to do.

Properly dressed, with the mask hiding most of his face, he simply strolled out of the palace of the Fire Lord.

(a/n : Was tempted to stop here...my wonderful BETA brukleflesche agreed.... but because you are so wonderful about voting I continued)

Oh, he could have escaped to the roof, but then they would have caught him before he could get off. This way he was behind the line of searchers, and he would be able to pass through places they thought were secure. This time Sokka was playing it smart; he had no intention of being captured again.

Moving fast, he headed to the first line of houses near the edge of the palace.

The courtier clothing he wore chafed against his skin, wrong somehow. Sokka ignored it as he ducked into the first dark alley he came to. Hopping a fence, he found some more laundry hanging out to dry and he quickly changed into Fire Nation peasant wear. He found some sheets, tore them up into strips, and fashioned some bandages that he wrapped around his face, covering half of it. He put on an old hat to complete the disguise. If the courtier clothes chafed, these made his skin itch and crawl. Sokka gritted his teeth. There was nothing wrong with the cloth, he HAD NOT changed that much, he absolutely refused to believe it.

Feeling more comfortable that he would not be recognized as the 'Prey,' Sokka walked confidently into the streets, and now paying more attention to what was going on. It was sheer luck that he heard the announcement that all the townspeople were to stay indoors when the sun went down, and any caught breaking curfew that night would answer to the Fire Lord himself. Sokka started cursing; he could not leave the city that night, so he had to find a place to hide.

Sokka quickly walked away from the main areas, his heart pounding. He could feel the sudden shift in the air around him, heard the rhythmic stomps of footsteps indicating a patrol was close. Damn it all, his escape had been going so well. Looking around, he spotted a large well. Damn! No choice! And he had just gotten dry, too.

Sokka didn't hesitate—though he complained long and loud in his head—he slipped into the well, and with his back against one side and his legs on the other he scaled down the hole just as the patrol turned the corner. He could hear them approaching the well; still cursing silently, he lowered himself into the water, which was just as high as his neck. He ducked under the surface as he heard the voices at the mouth of the well. A bucket fell in, conking him on the head, though luckily the water muffled the sound. Sokka 'helped' the water fill the bucket, head a little sore and him feeling childish enough that he spat into it.

He stood in the water, hiding in the shadow until finally he heard nothing except a strange chattering sound…oh, that was just his crazy teeth. Damn it, stupid Fire Nation.

Stupid well! Sokka climbed out as quietly as his squishy clothes would allow. The effort at least warmed him a little. He made his way miserably through the back streets, his tummy growling – reminding him of the food he was missing. Cold, tired, and his whole being strangely lethargic, he prayed to the Spirits for a break. He needed a place to hide for the night. Finally he saw what appeared to be a tool shed at the back of a garden, and Sokka hopped the fence again. Fingers cold, he worked the lock, found the mechanism that controlled it, and opened the shed.

It was exactly what he thought, a tool shed. There were some gunny sacks on the side, which Sokka reached for, but his skin shuddered in disgust, seeming to know what had been in them. He gritted his teeth again, manfully ignored his skin, and crafted a makeshift bed. He curled on the sacks, wretched and uncomfortable. He was doing the right thing, wasn't he? He had to escape, right? If the answer was yes...why the hell did he feel so utterly low?

Sokka sighed. He was exhausted and cold. Sleep now, think later. With enviable control Sokka sent himself to sleep.

Later...he dreamed.

The wolf-hawk was in the air, flying free once again, blue and sliver conquering the skies. But there was no joy in it; the clouds seemed dark around him. The ground was far away, with no place for the wolf-hawk to land, to rest and to find safety. Everything seemed unwelcoming, cold, and dark. He looked around, confused; what was wrong with the realm, what had changed, what was missing? He was flying, but he seemed to be going in circles, there was no place to go— NO, no, that was not right. There was no place the wolf-hawk wanted to go. Where was home...why was he so damn lost? The wolf-hawk whimpered as the growing darkness enveloped his world.

Then his ears perked. Something, some sound intruded on the heavy silence.

It was a roar, a scream, the scream of a spirit alone and lost, the scream of a spirit missing the other half of its soul. Far away, shrouded by the shadows, by fog and smoke, the red dragon roared and roared. Its voice tore at the hearts of those who heard it.

Where was it? Where was his dragon? The silver wolf-hawk, suddenly remembering, looked urgently around and tried to head to the source of the roars, but each time the wolf-hawk flew in the direction of the roar, it would suddenly come from a different location. Getting frantic, he slashed at the darkness but the darkness would not give way, and he could not find the source of the roars. The great wolf-hawk raised his head and howled. He howled of loneliness and loss, of rejection and despair, he howled for the other half of his soul.

The cries of the two great spirits tore at the realm. In the Earth Kingdom, the Avatar, discussing plans for rebuilding, froze as cold sweat broke out all over his body. Something was wrong in the spirit realm, but when he tried to enter it he was rebuffed. He was not to interfere in this. Aang shivered. Katara caught his suddenly troubled look. If he was not allowed in, he could not help.

---tbc---
- 9
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- 11
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Dragon's prey