The captain had taken it for granted that General Iroh wouldn't fall for Azula's trap, and when he saw the old man walking down the hillside alongside the young prince, his heart sank. What had she said to them? Whatever she'd done, it had worked; she'd successfully captured them both – one too rash, headstrong and homesick to look for anything suspicious, the other too attached to him to let any suspicions stop him – just like she'd promised she would. Now there was nothing to do but escort them aboard, pull out to sea, and drop the act the minute the harbor was out of sight. They'd each be chained up in a cell within the hour. It was the easiest mission he'd ever been on...

… and the hardest assignment he'd ever been given. The captain shook his head as the irony of the situation hit him again. This wasn't what he signed up for when he joined the military all those years ago. He became a soldier so he could fight those savages from the Water Tribes and Earth Kingdom, not members of the royal family! He'd dedicated his life to defending them and their cause, and now he had been ordered to turn on them! It went against everything he'd learned ever since he was a small boy. How could it now be his duty to fight those it was his duty to serve?

But they'd betrayed their nation and their family, the princess had told them. He no longer owed them any sense of duty or loyalty. His only duty lay with the Fire Lord and his daughter. As the soon-to-be prisoners reached the base of the stone steps, the captain recalled how thrilled he'd been when he'd first learned that he and his crew had been chosen to join the princess on a secret mission! What honor, what distinction! That sense of pride and confidence, however, had been overshadowed by shock and disbelief when he was told what that mission was.

He wasn't the only one. "General Iroh a traitor?" had been the prevalent whisper amongst the crew for days. Many of them had either served under him or knew someone who had. It just didn't make sense. Surely there must be some mistake... The whispers didn't last long, however. Nobody dared ask the princess for any further explanation – any enemy of the Fire Lord was an enemy of theirs; the Fire Lord didn't make mistakes. They may be surprised, they may be confused, but no one would hesitate to do their duty. It didn't matter how or why the two of them had turned on their nation – they had, and they must be stopped. Their Fire Lord and their country must be protected. The banished prince and his uncle would pay for betraying their people!

The captain didn't have the luxury of that sentiment. If he found it hard to believe the revered old general would betray his people, he found it impossible to believe the prince would. The two of them reached the shore and began walking towards the ship between the rows of soldiers. The captain was sure that, behind their visors, everyone was staring at the boy's scar; they had all heard about it, but few if any of them had seen it. The captain doubted any of them knew what he knew about it – he'd found it hard to think of anything else since they'd left home. Every time he'd heard someone whisper Prince Zuko's name, he'd been taken back to that conversation with Captain Zhao.

"Banished..." he'd said in disbelief the day the prince had left. Everyone was entitled to some shock – no member of the royal family had been punished so harshly for generations.

"It's more than he deserves," Zhao had said with a chuckle. "The fool's lucky to be alive."

"Whatever he said in the war chamber must have been truly heinous."

"It was something only the weakest, most spineless, disloyal, disobedient coward would dare to think, let alone say in the Fire Lord's presence."

"You were there?"

Zhao grinned smugly as he bragged, "Indeed. I was first invited into the inner circle three months ago. I saw the whole, sorry performance."

"What happened?" He'd instinctively dropped his voice to a whisper.

Zhao's smirk grew even more arrogant. "The Fire Lord has forbidden any to speak of it," he said in a tone of lofty superiority he clearly enjoyed.

"Of course, forgive me, I understand. I'd be afraid, too..."

That had the desired effect. "But, of course, he does trust those of us closest to him to make our own judgment."

"If the prince has betrayed the Fire Lord, it's important for us to know everything we can about our enemy."

"True. You must never tell anyone."

"Naturally – the Fire Lord's secrets are safe with me."

"Very well." Zhao shrugged at this, as if he was too important for such a trivial matter as he was about to reveal to be of any concern to him. "It all started when General Ryo recommended a new plan for taking Ba Sing Se. He suggested sending a division of new recruits to launch a frontal attack as a distraction, so we'd be able to launch the real attack from the rear unhindered. By the time the Earthbenders took care of the first wave, their king and city would be ours... and Zuko had the gall to speak up against it."

"What?!" He didn't realize what he'd said until the involuntary cry had escaped his throat.

Zhao smiled and nodded in perfect sympathy. "I felt the same way – imagine a prince of the Fire Nation speaking out of turn in his father's own war chamber just to show his own ignorance by shooting down a brilliant plan."

His companion made no effort to correct his misinterpretation of the source of his outrage. "Indeed... I never would have believed someone would have the nerve to say such a thing in such a place," he said in complete truthfulness.

"Zuko always was an odd one, but who'd have thought he'd force his father to go to such effort to teach him respect?"

"Effort? You mean banishing him?"

"No, facing him in that Agni Kai. Oh, but you wouldn't know about that, either. The Fire Lord gave Zuko the chance to back up his challenge in an Agni Kai, but the coward refused to fight. The Fire Lord took him down with one blow, and it was over." Zhao shrugged again. "Well, he's gone where he can no longer be an embarrassment to his father... at least until he finds the Avatar." Zhao had to laugh at that before he continued, "Maybe that will teach him something about duty."

He couldn't resist saying vaguely, "You were right – it certainly is nothing close to what he deserves," and on that note, the conversation came to a close.

As much as he knew it was wrong to question a decision of the Fire Lord's, the captain couldn't help but think of what the prince had done with gratitude and admiration. Surely the Fire Lord had never intended to support such a cruel strategy anyway? The boy had jumped to conclusions; his father had punished him for disrespecting him and nothing more. If he had just voiced his opposition in the proper way, nothing would have happened. Maybe the punishment was extreme for speaking out of turn, but... no, the Fire Lord's judgment was always right. Disrespect was a serious offense, no matter how right the argument was. The Fire Lord obviously never intended for his son's exile to be permanent – he'd known all along that the Avatar was alive and that the prince would be able to return home once he'd learned his lesson and be restored as the heir to the throne he so richly deserved someday... or so the captain had always thought. Maybe he wasn't supposed to know, but the Fire Lord knew personally how much his son cared for his people, so how could he accuse him and his brother of treason? No one who was willing to defend his people like Prince Zuko had would betray them. This mission made no sense, unless...

He had only ventured to share his doubts with one person – Saori, a friend whose life he had saved in their last campaign and whom he trusted wouldn't betray him should he say anything that could be misunderstood. "Why would the Fire Lord think Prince Zuko and General Iroh have betrayed us?" he'd asked her as they stood on deck one night, the sound of the waves providing welcome cover for their words.

She'd shrugged and replied, "He must have his reasons. He wouldn't be the first ruler whose brother turned on him."

"But Prince Zuko, he... he's been trying desperately to get permission to return home for three years. Why would he turn his back on his nation now?"

"Perhaps three years in the Earth Kingdom affected his mind. He must have picked up some dangerous ideas while he was away."

More dangerous than what got him sent away in the first place? he thought. "I guess anyone capable of speaking out in the Fire Lord's own war chamber is capable of anything."

"Yes..."

She said that far more nervously and started walking far more quickly than his innocent comment had warranted. Raising one eyebrow as he pondered that reaction, he sped up to keep pace with her. "I mean, it doesn't seem logical that anyone who could say such a thing would ever..."

She stopped dead in her tracks and turned sharply to him as she gasped, "You know?" not with the curiosity of one who didn't know but with the fear of someone who did.

"And so do you?" Her eyes simply widened as she stared at him. "What's going on here, Saori? Why are we...?"

"It doesn't matter, it's our duty," she said with such force that it was clear this fact was not open to interpretation. "Forget about that." She walked away as if to show that she already had.

He had never dared to tell anyone else, but he'd often wondered how many of his associates were in the same position he was. Did anyone else here know what the prince had done to earn that scar? What difference would it make? the captain asked himself. You know, and what are you doing? Arresting the boy who stood up for his people in order to serve the man who would readily sacrifice his people. This was his duty?

The captain turned around and looked up the gangplank to where the princess stood overlooking the scene, as rigid and still as a statue. "Maybe you should worry less about the tides who've already made up their mind about killing you, and worry more about me, who's still mulling it over." He turned away before she could see the memory of their encounter yesterday in his eyes. This was the woman his actions today would eventually put on the throne. The contrast between the boy walking towards him, who'd almost died standing up for his soldiers, with the girl standing behind him, who would kill any soldier as the mood struck her without a second's hesitation, was staggering. He stood between two heirs to the throne, one scarred and disgraced in punishment for his loyalty, the other with every hair perfectly in place, crowned with honor and privilege as a reward for her heartlessness.

A wave of fury at Prince Zuko's foolhardiness swept over him. It was plain to see from his demeanor that he didn't have the slightest inkling what awaited him on this ship. How could he not see what his sister was planning? If he'd only run and disappeared instead of walking into her snare like this... but he had, and he would have to take the consequences. There was nothing he could do about it. There's nothing you can do... Even if he could have, he wouldn't. He had pledged to loyally serve his nation to his dying breath, and he wouldn't falter now. He owed his duty to the Fire Lord, and the princess and new heir to the throne...

But what duty do they owe you? Wasn't it their duty to protect their people? Wasn't that why the royal family deserved their loyalty and devotion, because they took care of everyone? It was an honor and a privilege to serve the rulers who defended and protected them, their home, and their way of life – that was how it worked. But he couldn't doubt the princess based on one conversation – she'd done what she needed to do to get the ship in and accomplish her mission, for the good of everyone. It wasn't his place to disobey her, and she'd been right to correct him. But he hadn't meant to disobey her; it had been almost physically impossible to get into port by the time she'd desired, and he'd simply told her that. What if he'd been unable to meet her demands? The look in her eyes at the time forbade any claim that her threat was exaggerated. Once this was over and her way to the throne would be clear, everyone in the country would live in the same fear he'd experienced that evening. It was his duty to deliver his people to that fate?

What duty do you owe your people? Hadn't he vowed to protect his beloved nation and all the people in it, as his father and grandfather had before him? He'd never known a conflict between protecting his people and protecting the royal family before – to serve one was to serve the other. But today he was ordered to sacrifice the prince who risked his life for his people for the princess who risked their lives for her own desires. Such was the Fire Lord's will, and it was his duty to accept it.

Would you have accepted that plan? The Fire Lord would not have sent them to arrest his son if he hadn't committed some treacherous act, which his actions three years ago said he would not be capable of if his only crime back then had been disrespect. The Fire Lord obviously didn't see it that way, which could only mean that he disapproved of the prince's objection, not because of how he said it but because of what he said, which could only mean that he approved of the plan. It was his duty to accept that, as well.

Prince Zuko didn't accept it. The scar made him look older; it was hard to believe he was only sixteen. It was harder to picture a thirteen-year-old boy defying the Fire Lord and his most trusted generals in his own war chamber just to defend one division of young soldiers he didn't even know.

You owe him nothing. He's not your prince anymore. But shouldn't he be? Wouldn't the nation be better off with him on the throne someday? Didn't he deserve that? But the Fire Lord said he didn't; to believe Prince Zuko didn't deserve this punishment was to accept that... the Fire Lord was wrong. That all of this was wrong. That couldn't be. Loyalty to the Fire Lord was always right.

Then the prince deserves this? Deserved to be banished? Deserves that scar? Yes – he was a fool to question the judgment of his father or the generals he appointed. Then what he said was wrong?

It was the scar he couldn't take his eyes off of that answered the question for him: No. He quickly shifted his gaze elsewhere, but the conviction remained. The Prince had fulfilled his duty to his people – a duty the princess didn't even recognize. Prince Zuko was the one who deserved to sit on the throne. To hand the prince over to Ozai and Azula today would be the ultimate act of disloyalty. How could he do that?

What else can you do? It was too late. Once the two prisoners were on the ship, there would be no hope of escape. He couldn't let this happen, but how could he stop it? How could he warn them?

"Brother! Uncle! Welcome! I'm so glad you decided to come!"

The princess' powerful voice made the captain realize the insanity of what he was contemplating. Defy Princess Azula right in front of her? He'd have half a second to live before the lightning bolt reached his neck. He wasn't that foolish, despite what the princess herself believed... Ironically, if only he'd been as foolish as she treated him, the prince and general would be safe. If he'd slipped up and given the truth away somehow... if...

But he wasn't, he hadn't, and he couldn't. It was an effort to keep his voice steady as he asked, "Are we ready to depart, Your Highness?"

"Set our course for home, captain." She looked so sweet and welcoming as she smiled down at them, completely belying the venom she carried within. No one who displeased or disobeyed Azula lived long enough to regret it. Chances were slim that she'd show mercy for an act of stupidity as opposed to an act of rebellion...

Did a thirteen-year-old boy really have more courage than he did?

This was his absolute last chance. It was now or never. "You heard the princess! Raise the anchors! We're taking the prisoners home!" He was almost as stunned to hear it as the princess was.

It was done. Now they knew. Had it been enough? Had it worked? Run, run, run! he screamed in his mind. They had to get away!

He knew by the way his lieutenants handled him as they pulled him from the water that his "blunder" had cost them dearly – the prisoners had escaped. "I underestimated you, captain," the princess said in a voice as smooth as silk with eyes as sharp as knives. "I never expected even you would be capable of such idiocy. Can you tell me when you completely lost your mind?"

He thought of that look often during the six months he sat in prison. He'd been almost too surprised by such a reaction to be afraid of her. He'd fully expected the princess to see right through his pathetic act; she was usually an expert at reading people. Yet she apparently had no suspicion that he'd betrayed her on purpose but fully believed that he'd made an innocent, albeit monumental, mistake. The possibility had obviously never occurred to her. It was as if she had no comprehension of the concept of loyalty.

He couldn't be too hard on her, though; after all, he hadn't, either, until that day.