Even in the darkness of the cell, I knew the voice like I knew the sunrise. The hand rested on my shoulder as I cried. "This is all my fault," I said between sobs. "I let everything get this far. I had so many chances to talk some sense into him, but all I did as humor him."

"It is not your fault," Iroh said gravely. "Prince Zuko has chosen a dark path. This was his decision."

"That I could have prevented," I frowned. "I promised Ursa that I would protect him, that I would never let him forget who he is." I looked over at Iroh and mirrored his sad expression. "Is this who he truly is?"

"I certainly hope not," he sighed, "but I have faith in my nephew."

I didn't reply. Did I have faith in Zuko? At this point, definitely not. I leaned on the bars that separated Iroh from me and held my breath to fight back tears. I didn't want to cry anymore. I wanted answers. Why didn't I stay with Katara and the others? What would life have been like if my parents were alive and I didn't have to live with Ursa? This brought up questions that I had avoided my entire life: How did Ursa know my parents? Why was she the one to take care of me rather than giving the responsibility to the tribe?

Don't get me wrong, I was incredibly grateful for Ursa's love and care. I just...could never bring myself to think about it.

And I most definitely wouldn't be able to find out now — not in this cell. My eyes rested on the charred remains of my necklace. I began to think that, just maybe, Azula had a point. I didn't deserve everything I'd been given. I had taken her place in her mother's heart, and was given more attention by everyone in the nation — even if the attention I received was primarily negative. I was, as she more than often phrased it, nothing more than a Water Tribe peasant living a life that was not meant to be mine.

"What are we going to do?" I asked quietly.

"We wait," Iroh said with a nod.

"We wait," I parroted. "Wait for what? No one's coming to get us, Iroh. Especially not Zuko."

"I understand your bitterness," he told me, "but you must understand. Everything happens for a reason, and we will find our silver lining. Our opportunity will come."

As much as I wanted to tell the old man that he was being delusional, I refrained. Nobody was going to save us. Nobody was even thinking about us. We were locked away in the depths of the prison. Out of sight, out of mind — that's how the saying goes, right? I closed my eyes and let out a sigh. Had I reached this level of hopelessness?

No longer wanting to think about it, I slid into a dreamless sleep.

It been hours since I'd fallen asleep, though I wish it had been longer. Iroh sat in the center of his cell with his eyes closed and his back straight. He looked as peaceful and focused as ever. In the midst of the silence, my stomach quickly reminded me that I had barely eaten since arriving to the palace.

On cue, a guard pushed open the heavy door and tossed a bowl of rice into Iroh's cell, and held the other in his hand. Iroh, who I noticed was dressed in raggedy brown clothing and his hair a mess, lunged for the bowl and stuff his mouth. The guard hissed, "Look at your just a fat, disgusting old man. You do nothing, you say nothing. You just eat and roll around in your own filth like a pig. You're a disgrace." He walked over to my cell and glared at me. I was standing now, my grip on the cell bars. "And you! I can't believe they allowed the prince to bring his Water Tribe whore into the palace! Don't think I haven't heard the rumors of you and the other guards." His glare hardened as his face leaned closer that ever word could be spat into my face. "You're worth no more than the dirt between my toes. You should've been tried for treason, the way you attacked the princess! You're pathetic. I bet you're not even all that tough..."

"Why don't you come in here and find out for yourself, big guy?" My lips curled up bitterly at the thought of the gossip that had gone around without my knowledge.

The guard scoffed, tossing my bowl of rice at my feet, and left.

"You must eat," Iroh broke character and sat up happily with his bowl. "You need your strength."

I didn't need to be told twice. I snatched up the bowl from the floor and began stuffing my mouth, shoveling in more than I could chew. I was sure that I looked like a caged animal, but that didn't matter. I was suddenly reminded of Sokka and the unhealthy eating habits we shared, and my appetite was soon replaced with the recurring guilt of lying to the group.

As if reading my mind, Iroh said, "Dwelling on the past will only prevent you from reaching your future."

"You're just full of prophecies," I pointed out. "Do you have one for every situation?"

Iroh gave a sad chuckle. "It is acquired through old age, my dear." He looked at me, a hint of hope still glinting in his eyes. "I understand that you have much on your mind, but you cannot let it consume you, Saki."

"That's all it's ever done," I frowned. "Especially now! Why did Ursa want to bring me here? Why couldn't I stay in my village after my parents died? How did she even know my parents? Why do I continuously find myself in compromising situations whenever I think things are going fine? It's all I can do in this stupid cell without losing my mind!"

"It appears you have already lost it," Iroh teased.

I glared with a mouthful of rice.

The old man chuckled. "All you need to do is have faith. When the time comes, you must be prepared."

My eyebrow perked up, but the man was indulging in his rice again before I could ask for clarification.

I guess I'll just have to sit here patiently, I thought. Whatever it is that he has in store, I'm willing to wait for it.