Darshi clutched her blankets to her chest, staring at the ceiling veiled in shadows. Yoongi squirmed in his cot from his side of the room, pretending she was invisible as always.

She missed being able to look at the moon every night. Darshi wasn’t a water bender. Her powers weren’t intertwined with the moons like her tribes was, but it comforted her to see so many people gaining strength and surety under its soft beams.

“Yoongi?”

A grunt was heard from his general direction and Darshi assumed that was him answering her.

“How long have you been here?”

For a long time only breathing could be heard, then he muttered, “More than a year.”

“Who did they take from you?”

He shifted on his pallet. “A sister.”

Darshi settled into her covers, letting out a deep sigh. “Do you think she’s being taken care of?”

“They let her send letters every now and then.”

Darshi’s brows rose. She didn’t think they’d allow that, but then she supposed they had to prove to him somehow that she was alive and being cared for.

“Can you send her letters back?”

“No.”

“Do you think she’s happy there?”

He twisted, eyes reflecting in the darkness. “Can you leave me alone?”

Darshi frowned, gripping her blankets tighter against her. It was lonely here and she only wanted some conversation. Prince Taehyung was always willing to talk, but she knew better than to do that. Prince Seokjin was obsessed with decorum. He didn’t fight Taehyung on talking to them, but Dashi was sure he would not condone the slaves speaking back to his younger brother.

“Have I done something to offend you?”

“Everyone does something to offend me.”

Darshi bit her inner cheek, straining to make out his form across from her. Only a sliver of light was in the room from the cracked door, making everything hard to see. “I know you’re not a bad guy even if you like to pretend to be.”

He sat up with a sigh, leaning a bit closer to her. “Look Adarshini, or Darshi, or whatever you want to be called. We’re not friends. I am not your friend. Just because we’re both slaves does not make us all buddy, buddy with each other,” he said with quotations. “Whatever you’re trying to do, just stop. Trust me, it’s better that way. If you don’t give a about no one they can’t be used against you.” His voice softened, oddly subdued. “Trust me, it’s better that way.”

He turned back around, but not before adding, “The Fire Lord has heard rumors about you after the stunt you pulled in the Northern Water Tribe. It’s kind of hard to hide the fact an air bender is around when a tornado was created out of nowhere, not that Prince Seokjin isn’t trying his hardest to cover it for whatever reason. If I were you I wouldn’t be worried about making friends. I’d be fighting to stay alive to protect my kin.” He squirmed, getting comfortable before adding,

“Just do whatever he says no matter what it is. Things can always get worse.”

Darshi ran through her air bender forms, Prince Seokjin watching her to the side. A permanent presence in her view. He liked to watch her when she practiced, although wasn’t sure why. Yoongi was sparring with the other earth bender slaves to make sure he didn’t get rusty too. He tended to do that a few hours each day. There wasn’t much an earth bender could work with in the middle of the ocean, but they scraped by using mostly bended coal.

“Before you left for the Northern Water Tribe we made a deal,” Seokjin said suddenly. “I told you if you get me my city I will tell you what you like about your father’s fate.”

Darshi paused, heart beating against her chest as Seokjin began to circle her. With everything that had happened she forgot all about that conversation.

“I sent a few letters asking about an ‘Ayan’ of the Southern Water Tribe.” He stood in front of her, studying her face. “There is no information on him.”

Darshi leaned forward, a part of her expecting the results. Her father hadn’t been a powerful bender. He was hiding the fact he was a bender at all. To the Fire Nation, he would have been just another warrior, and they had never taken her tribe unless they were water benders.

“Thank you,” she whispered, clenching her fist at her side in an attempt to reign in her emotions. Prince Seokjin took a single finger, pulling her chin up to see her face better. No tears had fallen, but it had been close. Darshi had been grieving her father for many years now. She was already used to him being dead. It would have been more of a shock to hear he was alive.

Prince Seokjin was tilted his head slightly to the side, pointer finger still against her chin. His face looked thoughtful, a slight frown marring his brows. “Do you like Taehyung?”

Darshi winced, unable to stop herself from taking a step back. Before she could answer he continued, “Don’t waste your time. You’re a slave and a commoner, and he is of the purest of blood. The most you could do was warm his bed.”

Darshi grimaced, unable to keep the disgust off her face. “He is a child.”

He was the same age as her brother Jungkook. She would never have any romantic relations with someone her own brother’s age. If a woman that was her age did that to Jungkook she would be furious.

“Child?” the prince repeated in disbelief. “Taehyung is an adult. Or he would be if he would only undergo the ceremony,” he brooded.

“He’s fifteen,” she mumbled.

“Yes,