Disclaimer: I do not own ATLA

A/N So I've decided to post this story after it's been sitting in my drafts for FOUR YEARS. I put it on the back burner because I had seen someone do an Anastasia AU for Zutara, but then I realized it wasn't the same as mine so here we are.

Just a little background into this: I'm modeling it after the 1997 movie Anastasia, obviously, and there is no magical element to it like there was with Rasputin. There's still bending, but it's very rare and hardly seen in this universe. It takes place about five hundred years after a war ended with the passing of Sozin's Comet. You could say it's technically in the Avatar universe, but it's not. Just hinted at, mostly. This story will be about 6 chapters long, if I don't plan on extending it past what happens in the movie.


Chapter One


Our world used to be a magical place, with emperors, kings, lords, and chiefs. Princes and princesses and the elaborate parties they attended. A world where balls were held and the people of our country gathered in camaraderie.

A world that disappeared forever.

We were celebrating the anniversary of the passing of Sozin's Comet, hundreds of years since the end of an ever-lasting war. In the palace we came together to dance, to sing, to drink in happiness.

I had arrived after the festivities had started, where people were dancing together in harmony and drinking to the spirits beyond. I could see my family as they celebrated, my brother the Fire Lord. His beautiful wife and young daughter.

And my beloved nephew, Prince Zuko.

His smile was beaming that night, his laughter filling the room as the music played and he danced with the noble girls. He snuck sweets, and a sip or two from his father's goblet of wine. That night, he was jubilant...

"Uncle! Uncle!" Zuko squealed as he ran towards the man sitting near the throne. He wrapped his arms around the older man and exclaimed, "Uncle Iroh! How was Ba Sing Se?"

Iroh chuckled and patted his nephew on the shoulder. "Oh, it was wonderful, my nephew. In fact, while I was there I found something for you."

He pulled a small, rectangular package out of his pocket and handed it to Zuko, who was practically bouncing in his spot. The young prince took the box and unraveled the green ribbon surrounding it. Once the lid was lifted, waiting inside was a small sheath. Zuko grasped it, grin widening as he pulled a dagger out of its casing. On the blade was an inscription. Zuko narrowed his eyes as he read it aloud: "'Never give up without a fight...'"

"I thought of you when I found it," Iroh stated as he leaned back in his seat. "I wanted you to have something that would remind you of me when I return to the walled city."

Zuko looked up from the blade and pouted, "You don't have to go, do you? You just got back!"

"My place is no longer here in the Fire Nation," Iroh sighed as he shook his head. He then reached into his pocket and pulled out a small disk, turning it in his fingers before handing it over to his nephew. "Here. This is also for you."

Zuko took the disk and brought it close to his face, inspecting the tiny details. On one side was a simple painting of a white lotus, and he recognized it as Iroh's favorite Pai Sho tile. He flipped it over and read the miniscule words inscribed on the back:

"A long, long way to Ba Sing Se."

Zuko giggled as he added, "And the girls in the city, they look so pretty!"

Iroh laughed as well while he rubbed Zuko affectionately on the top of his head with the palm of his hand. Zuko swatted his hand away then readjusted his topknot, all while grinning ear to ear. Iroh gave him a cheeky grin in return before his attention was diverted to the front of the room, where a ruckus had sprung up at the entrance to the hall. His smile fell and Zuko watched where his uncle's eyes had gone to spot a cloaked man entering the room.

Zhao had once been a servant of the royal family; an Admiral in the Fire Lord's navy. But his constant war mongering had angered my brother. Though Ozai was not the most peaceful of men, he knew the consequences of waging war on the other nations. He had learned from our ancestors, from the Fire Sages warning him of the punishment the spirits bestowed on our people the last time they began a war. He would not make the same mistake. Nor would he risk the honor of the Fire Nation by even associating with a man with a mind of cogs and coal.

"Zhao!" Ozai's voice boomed over the dwindling music, his steps now echoing through the quieting hall. "You are not welcome here! Get out!"

The other man chuckled, his sharp teeth gleaming in the party lights. He ran a hand through his gray hair, then rubbed his sideburns as his wicked smile remained as he spoke. "Am I not? Why, I thought this party was for all citizens of the Fire Nation!"

"That privilege was taken from you the moment you tried to start a war!" Ozai exclaimed, his fists starting to heat with flames. "I order you to leave the palace, at once!"

There was another bark of laughter from Zhao before his Cheshire smile turned to a scowl worthy of a goblin. "What a shame. Because I came solely to tell you that your time as Fire Lord will soon be over. The whole line of Agni will end in a fortnight, and the people of the Fire Nation will be free of your passive rule! You are not worthy of the title of Fire Lord, Ozai."

"Unlike you, Zhao, I have learned from the mistakes of our ancestors," the Fire Lord bellowed in return, causing the people around him to shrink away from the forceful nature of his voice. "Now leave before I have to make you."

In the end, Zhao left without another word. But his warnings didn't settle well with the people of the Fire Nation. Whispers of rebellion spread like wildfire through the streets of the capital, soon stirring riots that could not be contained.

The people reached the walls of the palace one night and determined to get inside. Armed with their firebending and other weapons, the people attacked the gates and broke in. No one was safe...

Zuko ran alongside Iroh, dressed in his sleeping clothes and his long hair out of its traditional phoenix tail. The shouts of the servants and guards echoed around the halls, as were the cries of his little sister, Azula. He could see his mother holding her and running ahead of them, her eyes scared but her voice firm as she ordered the guests to the tunnels below the palace.

The prince's eyes widened and he stopped short, suddenly remembering that he had forgotten his most important treasures. He turned on his heels and sprinted back towards his rooms, gasping something about his dagger as he ran away.

Iroh turned and followed him, shouting after his nephew to stop and to come back. But it was to no avail. The young prince was rounding the corner that led to his room and had quickly gotten out of sight. Once Iroh had reached the room and shut the door behind him, the shouts of approaching men could be heard over the sounds of shooting fire and heavy footsteps.

"Zuko! We must get out now!"

He turned just as Iroh had spoke and pushed his dagger into his pocket, and put on his Pai Sho tile, which was now attached to a long golden chain. His golden eyes were large with surprise as he finally heard the sounds of the rebels, now banging on nearby doors and lighting the tapestries outside on fire. Iroh ran to him and grabbed his arm, seeing he had been practically frozen in his spot. Just as they turned to get towards the door, a painting on the wall moved to the side and a young girl, not a day over 8, hopped out.

"Here! Use the servant's tunnels!" she shouted to them, her blue eyes wide with fear but her voice firm with resolve to help them. She pushed her braid over her shoulder and strode over to them, helping Iroh bring Zuko to the exit. Her tanner face was smudged with soot and some shorter curls were falling out of her braid and into her eyes. Iroh thanked her quickly and she just shook her head and pushed them inside the hidden tunnel. "Just go!"

There were rebels nearby now, slamming against the locked door. Iroh pushed Zuko deeper inside the hidden passage in the wall, and slid in behind him. Zuko turned and shouted something about his dagger again, but the servant girl yelled at him to run as she shoved him inside and pulled the painting back over the entrance.

Zuko and I ran through the servant's tunnels, our way illuminated with a fire in my palm and the only sounds between us were the ones of our slippered feet slapping against damp earth floors. Every once in a while, I heard Zuko sniffle behind me. But he kept quiet.

The fires spreading through the palace were now starting to heat up the secret tunnels, causing Zuko and Iroh to sweat and stumble their way towards the exit. Iroh was praying to Agni for guidance to get them to the eastern side of the palace, where they could escape and head towards the docks that would bring them to the Earth Kingdom.

But his hope was shattered when the fires finally reached them.

The tunnel in front of them was engulfed in flames, blocking their exit and quickly crawling towards them. Iroh stumbled back, his arm pulling Zuko against him, and he took a deep breath as he steeled himself for what needed to be done.

"Alright, Zuko," he coaxed to his nephew. "We need to use our bending to prevent the fires from touching us. Do you remember what I taught you about your breathing?"

He felt Zuko nod against his shoulder blade. "Deep and steady."

"Good. When I get to three, I am going to let you go and we are going to run through the flames. You will need to focus on keeping the fires off of your body until we reach the exit. Can you do that?"

When he glanced back at Zuko, he saw the hard determination in his eyes as he nodded again and let go of Iroh's hand. Iroh did his best to give Zuko a reassuring smile, but even he could tell it was all for naught. After all, their world was literally burning down in flames. There wasn't much a man could do with a smile except hope.

"One."

Zuko nodded and took a deep breath. Iroh turned back towards the approaching fire and breathed himself.

"Two."

Iroh sank into his knees and took another deep breath, ready to run. Zuko did the same.

"Three!"

With a sharp exhale, Iroh ran towards the fire, using his bending to push it away. He felt Zuko follow his lead, his bending not as strong but still vibrant enough to curve the flames away from his body and out of their way. The entire tunnel was engulfed, the wooden beams creaking under the destruction and starting to break and fall.

There was a shout behind him and he turned to see Zuko had collapsed under a fallen rafter, one that was on fire and burning the young prince. Iroh sprinted back and saw it had fallen over the left side of Zuko's body, the flames burning his face and part of his shoulder and chest. He was screaming, trying to shove the log off and bend the fire away as much as he could. But the flames could not be so easily tamed.

Iroh grabbed it and hefted it away, burning his hands in the process, then pulled Zuko up by his right arm and led him to the exit as fast as he could.

Zuko's whimpers were as hushed as he could be, but Iroh could tell he was in immense pain. From what the seasoned General had seen in the flickering firelight, Zuko was dripping blood from his face and arm, all from burns that had scalded his skin. Together they ran towards the exit, which was now in their sights.

"Uncle," Zuko rasped out, so pained and softly it was barely heard. "It hurts…"

Iroh huffed with the strain of running and replied in a breath, "I know, Zuko. We will get it fixed as soon as we're safe. We need you to be safe, nephew."

Zuko's reply was another sniffle and hiccup, but he remained vigilant on following Iroh out of the tunnels and to sanctuary.

Once they reached the exit, the smell of burning brimstone and wood filled their nostrils, as did the sight of ashes and flames reaching high into the night sky. Iroh took Zuko's hand, ignoring the shooting pain that he felt from his own burns, and guided him to the hidden exit in the burning garden, where they ran together towards the docks. They slipped through the city unnoticed, everyone's attention was on the burning palace and the screams coming from inside.

Iroh could see Zuko look back every once in a while, agony evident on his brave face. Not just from the new and festering burns that covered his left eye and cheek, but from the sounds he heard. It was no doubt that those screams belonged to his family and the friends he made within the palace. And he was running to safety while they burned. His anger was clear as his pain.

They reached the docks pretty quickly, and saw other citizens trying to flee the city on the boats. Chaos was reigning everywhere, and the two royals were starting to have a hard time navigating through the crowds of people. Just as Iroh tugged Zuko to a boat, it began to push away from the dock. The General was hefted up by some of the passengers, while Zuko reached up and tried to leap up to join his uncle.

His fingers grasped Iroh's, but as he kept running along the dock, losing space to run, he began to slip out of Iroh's grip.

"Uncle!"

Iroh's heart stopped and his eyes were wide as he shouted, "Hold my hand, Zuko!"

The prince's fear was now evident in his good eye, the other swollen shut and still bleeding and blistering, as he cried, "Don't let go!"

But just as Zuko had said those words, his fingers completely slipped away and he stumbled and fell onto the dock, hitting his head hard on the wood.

I shouted for him, but he did not respond. My young nephew had been knocked unconscious by the fall. No one would stop the boat for me, no one would let me go back.

That was the last time I ever saw my Zuko again…

"Zuko!"


10 years later

The building he was exiting looked so much smaller, now that he knew he would never come back. The children in the windows bid him farewell, calling out to him and wishing him good fortune in his life. He returned their farewells, waving and grinning at them, instead of listening to the warden and his instructions.

"Are you even listening to me boy?!"

Lee looked down from the windows and to the man in front of him. With a roll of his eyes and a gritting of his teeth, he replied, "Yes, Jee."

The older man scowled and walked past Lee, towards the front gate of the orphanage. "For the past ten years, I've fed you-"

As Jee spoke, Lee mouthed his words along with him and rolled his eyes as he did.

"-I've clothed you. I've-"

"Put a roof over my head…"

Jee rounded on his heels, much like the the retired Lieutenant he was, and glared at the orphan in front of him. "How is it you can't remember where you came from, but you can remember that? You were brought to me ten years ago with not a single clue about yourself. Nothing but the clothes on your back and the burns on your skin. Maybe if you had put as much effort into figuring out about yourself as you did in mocking me, I wouldn't have been stuck with you. Even after all this time, you still have no clue about anything..."

Lee scowled as he reached under his shirt and pulled out the pendant that had been resting against his chest. "Well, I do have a clue! I-"

"Oh yes," Jee mocked, his brown eyes rolling as he taunted, "'A long, long way to Ba Sing Se.' Do you really think you will be able to find what you're looking for there? You better just be smart and take the job I got for you. There will be a man at the docks waiting for you, so don't mess this up. You might as well just realize that this is the best thing for you."

Lee just huffed and nodded as he readjusted the sparse bag on his back. After he bid Jee one last farewell and waved to the younger children hanging out of the windows, Lee strode down the path and headed east to the docks. A scowl made its way onto his face when he remembered the damned place. It was where he had been found a decade ago, bleeding and burned and delirious from shock, his memory of how and why he was so burned completely gone. He was taken to the closest hospital near the red light district and had been treated there, but the burns had settled in too much and he was permanently scarred. Not even the waterbenders employed in the hospital could fix him. Now an angry scar mottled the left side of his face, reminiscent of a comet, and his shoulder bore a similar superficial disfiguring.

According to Jee, not many would find his scar pleasing to the eyes, so selling him to the red lights would be out of the question. At his young age, he was strong and healthy enough to take care of shipments and hauling loads at the docks. Jee knew a guy who knew a guy and was able to secure Lee a job with the harbormaster. And he'd have to be on a train down to docks by sundown in order to ensure he would get the job.

Lee stuffed his hands in his pockets as he walked as leisurely as he could towards the east. The orphanage was on the northwestern outskirts of the Caldera, so he'd have to hoof it to get to the trains in time.

Or he could just take his time and mistakenly not arrive before the train left at sundown. No skin off his back. After all, he didn't want that for himself, a life stuck at the shore with no way of leaving it. He wanted more. With a grin, Lee looked over his shoulder to make sure the orphanage was out of sight before he turned on his heel and headed south towards the shopping district.


"Are you sure this is going to work?"

Blue eyes glared at her from over a broad shoulder, and her brother huffed with annoyance. "Katara, how else do you think we're going to get the money to pay for Gran Gran's treatment? With mom gone and dad serving under the Northern Tribe, we can't get the money without some extreme means. This might be the only thing that will work."

Katara scowled and huffed, "Yeah, but tricking an old man into thinking we found his long-lost nephew and taking his money to pay for it? I think that will bite us in the asses before we can even reach the South Pole. Sokka, are you sure we should do this?"

Sokka spun on his heels and stared his sister down with a frown that matched hers. "You told me from your time working in the palace with mom that General Iroh was a kind and generous man. And you met Prince Zuko, so you'd be able to pluck out any fakes from the potentials and we could easily get him to Ba Sing Se and reunited with Iroh."

"It's not a reunion if it's not really Zuko."

Sokka groaned and scrubbed his face with his hands. "What else can we do? We don't have the money nor the means to get more money. Right now, we're desperate and this is a desperate ploy to get money."

Katara frowned even more as she replied, "But tricking an old man? It'll be harder than you think. Iroh was sharp a decade ago, and will still be even now. I doubt we can pull a fast one on him with a fake."

Sokka blinked hard, unenthused by her negativity, and he rolled his eyes as he turned back around and headed towards the door. "Look, we can talk about this later. For right now, we're holding the auditions and are going through with it. Haru secured tickets for a boat ride to Yu Dao that leaves tomorrow morning. We either need to find someone who looks like Prince Zuko or I'll bleach your skin and cut your hair to make you look like a boy."

Katara flushed and shoved Sokka's shoulder. "Absolutely not!"

Sokka chuckled and led her towards a table that overlooked a makeshift stage. "Yeah, that won't work. You're definitely a girl, even under all of those clothes. We wouldn't be able to fool even the blind homeless lady who lives outside of the palace."

Katara scoffed again, but did not retort his claim. After all, being eighteen was hard to hide, even in loose clothes and tight wraps underneath. Her big and bright blue eyes would be a giveaway that she wasn't the lost prince, regardless, so she knew Sokka had just tried to ease her worry with one of his flat jokes. Again.

As the siblings settled into their chairs, Sokka put some glasses on and squinted at the papers in front of him. "Alright, first up please."

And as a heavy-set man with overgrown sideburns and tobacco-stained teeth waddled onto stage, Katara repressed a groan and silently prayed to Tui and La that some sort of miracle would find its way in front of them.


After leisurely walking for a few hours, Lee managed to migrate more south towards the ruins of the old nobility district. There were empty homes lining the streets, vacant for a decade, and the roads were cracked and weed-ridden. Places that may have once stood tall were now crumbling, left to rot by people who didn't care, and they all led to one place in the center square: the Fire Palace.

Curiosity got the best of him and Lee made his way towards the towering ruin. Something tugged him forward, some unseen force that led him down the broken streets as if he knew the way already. An ache settled in his stomach, filled with the knowledge of the death that lined these streets, and he swallowed it away as best as he could.

When Lee reached the tall fences that once separated the grand Fire Palace from the rest of the squalor of Caldera, he looked in to see the charred shell that had been the home of the Royal Family. He didn't know much about what happened here, just that the Fire Nation used to be ruled by the Fire Lord and his family. Then there was an accident that killed all eligible heirs and now the Fire Nation was ruled by oligarchs and drunks from one of the islands in the archipelago, leaving this building as a stark reminder of what used to be.

"There was a fire."

He turned around, spotting a decrepit old woman who had spoken from behind him, appearing out of thin air. She was shrouded in a dirty old red cloak, torn and wearing down at the hems. Her brown eyes were clouded with age, yet she stared at him with such intensity it almost made Lee's skin crawl.

"A fire?"

She nodded and hobbled one step closer, her fragile and wrinkled hands reaching to grasp the fencing that Lee had peered through. "Years ago. The royal family was trapped inside, along with many of the servants and staff. Some say it was an accident. But others say it was started by the rebels that now rule the nation. General Iroh was one of the only ones to get out, and he claims it was no accident. He even claims that he believes his nephew, the prince, to be alive. But not many listened to the old man, not even back then. He's now in Ba Sing Se, aging like an overripe tomato and blathering on about his missing nephew..."

Lee fought the urge to run his fingers over the tile around his neck. Instead, he looked down to the woman and frowned as he inquired, "The prince? Why would he believe the prince is still alive if everyone died in the fire?"

The old woman frowned and patted Lee on his shoulder. "Because Iroh said he and the prince escaped the palace together. But got separated on the way out of the city. Here, there's always hope that he will return. But it's dwindling as time passes."

Lee furrowed his brow and looked back to the palace. "He's probably dead, like the rest of them."

The woman clicked her tongue and shook her head before turned away from him as she murmured, "There is always hope, young one. He could be hiding in the midst of us all, waiting for the right time to rise up and take back this country."

As she walked away, Lee kept his eyes on the old building beyond the fence. The ancient stone walls still stood, but were blackened with soot and crumbling with damage from the fire. The front doors were boarded up with wooden planks, blocking entry to any intruder. A dark thought crossed his mind, curiosity taking the reins again as his eyes scanned the building. He peaked over his shoulder to make sure he wasn't being watched, saw he was alone, and slid through a hole in the fence.

Lee slunk towards the palace, eyes watching for onlookers. He couldn't afford being caught, not in a forbidden area. Not as a poor orphan from the outer part of the city. The lights from the city were beginning to overpower the setting sun, casting an eerie glow on the destroyed towers that loomed above him.

Even before he left the orphanage, Lee had the insatiable need to explore. He couldn't explain it, nor could he quench it. The itch in his palm and the curiosity in his chest caused him to run, climb, and squeeze into the most unlikely of places, read the most obscure books in the run-down library across the street, and find himself in the most skewed of fights. He was fearless, at least he proclaimed himself to be. Even now as he reached the front doors of the palace and used his knife to loosen some nails of the boards did he consider himself to be reckless and audacious.

The wood groaned as he pulled it away from the doors and tossed it away, giving himself an acceptable amount of space to squeeze through. He couldn't explain why, but he just had to get inside. He had to know what drew him to this place.

Dust lingered in the air, catching the last streams of sunlight as they shone through the stained glass above the doorway. Lee looked around, taking in the interior of the once-splendor that the Royal Family lived in. The stairs that led up to the second floor were broken, caved in at multiple places and rotting everywhere else. The hall straight in front of him was dark, and it looked like at least half of the ceiling had fallen and blocked any passage. He huffed and opened a flame in his palm - a trick one of the older orphans taught him before she was sent to the red lights - and he made his way to the stairs.

He chose the one on his left because it looked stable enough to climb right along the railing. But after three steps up, he realized it was a mistake. His foot fell through the flooring and he yelped as he scrambled to grab the railing before he fell all the way through. The crashing sound echoed up the stairs and down the halls, and Lee cursed his luck once more.

He maneuvered his leg out the best he could, avoiding further injuring himself or the stairs, and he managed to scramble up the rest of the stairs before collapsing at the top. The skin on his calf stung - likely from a gash- and his ankle felt like it rolled in the fall, and Lee once again cursed himself.

Maybe exploring this place wasn't such a good idea, after all.

Once he caught his breath, Lee pulled himself up and glanced down at his calf, and sure enough it was bleeding heavily through the rip of his pants and onto the tops of his short and raggedy boots. He blew his bangs out of his face and quickly ripped the remaining fabric up to his knee and quickly set about wrapping the wound as best as he could.

He'll clean it up eventually.

The makeshift bandage was fastened with a lopsided knot and Lee turned his attention back to the halls. There were dozens of large paintings lining the walls near the rafters, each of an individual man with stylized elements painted next to him. After years of neglect, dust coated each and every one of them, hindering Lee from truly getting a good look at them. He sighed and turned his attention to the curtained door that led to what he assumed was the throne room. After all, the burned tapestries and emptied suits of armor told him he was in the right place.

Lee relit the flame in his palm and padded over to the doorway. He pushed the curtain to the side, unsurprised when pieces fluttered off and onto the floor. Such was the nature of fire; it destroyed. Lee fought the urge to rub his left cheekbone at the thought.

When he fully entered the dark room, he brightened his fire and looked around. Multiple columns led to the ceiling, most likely for decoration and not function, and they all led towards a raised dais that Lee figured had been the throne. He walked forward, his footsteps echoing against the surprisingly dust-free wood floors. When he reached the dais, the faint smell of gasoline hit him and he immediately dimmed his fire. He trailed his fingers along the raised floor and found it dry, so he lowered his hand just a little to get a better look. There was a thin strip of stone that separated the dais from the floor and Lee dipped his finger between the grooves. He felt some moisture and brought it back up to his nose, finding the source of the gasoline.

"Interesting," he hummed to himself. He took a step back and sent a small flame to the stone, which caught and trailed completely down the dais until it reached the walls. The entire room was illuminated with the firelight and it took Lee's breath away. The room was much larger than he anticipated, stretching much farther than he thought practical. Though what really caught his eye was the cushion on top of the dais and the small table next to it. Lee parted the flames and climbed up onto the dais, then strode over towards what he could only describe as a miniature gazebo.

This was the Fire Lord's throne, where he sat and led and ultimately perished. The cushion was ripped and tossed to the side, likely the work of thieves, and the table had been knocked over, the contents coated with dust.

Behind the throne was something that really took Lee's attention and his breath: a giant dragon carved into the wall and painting propped up against it. Faded with time and dust was what appeared to be a picture of the last Royal Family, the parents and their children. The man was broad-shouldered and stern, with vacant eyes and high cheekbones. The woman was softer, younger, and her eyes held a haunted sadness that made Lee's chest ache with familiarity. There was a little girl, a spitting image of the woman, and an older boy, a copy of the man. Lee narrowed his eyes when he looked at the boy, taking in his features on the roughened canvas. Black hair pulled into a top knot, adorned with a small flame, and bright eyes that seemed to glow even after time had taken the painting.

"Hey!"

Lee whirled around and froze. Two figures lingered in the doorway, silhouetted by the incoming light. He belatedly realized the fire that had lined the dais was now twice in size, obscuring them even further.

"How did you get in here?!"


Katara grumbled in frustration as the last of the "hopefuls" walked off the stage. After hours of "auditioning", they had gotten nowhere with their Prince Zuko look-alike quest. Sokka had claimed one looked sort of like the Prince, but Katara denied him by saying he looked more like the late Prince Lu Ten and bringing him to General Iroh would be an even bigger mistake than bringing a fake Zuko.

Sokka sighed from next to her and started gathering his papers. "I guess this means Plan B: Go to Yu Dao by ourselves and meet up with Aang. He can help us figure something out."

Katara scowled at her brother and replied, "Absolutely not. I'm not going to my ex-boyfriend because we need money. Besides, the Nomads don't have money."

Sokka looked at her like she had said the stupidest thing in the entire world. "I meant for a way to find a fake Zuko. He's traveled all over the world. He's bound to know someone who looks like the Prince. And-"

Suddenly, there was a crashing noise coming from the other side of the building, where the throne room was, and Katara and Sokka met each other's eyes with anger.

"Great!" Sokka groaned as he stood and grabbed his sword from the edge of the table. "First we can't find a Zuko, now we have someone breaking in?! How worse can this day get?!"

Katara followed him through the winding halls, sidestepping crumbled walls and fallen doorways, and they reached the throne room foyer with huffs of frustration and irritation. Honestly, who would break in? There was nothing left of value in the palace, and everyone who lingered in the halls would leave after a week or two once they realized that there was nothing worth staying for. At least, everyone but Sokka and Katara. She had once been working in the palace with her mother, apprenticing under the tutelage of the palace healer, when the rebels attacked and left almost everyone for dead. She and her mother escaped, but not after Katara aided General Iroh and Prince Zuko in fleeing. Not a day had passed that she didn't think of the boy with the bright golden eyes and the courage of a polar bear dog. It was his bravery that inspired her to help him escape, and for her to go back and grab the dagger he had dropped before someone else could figure out where he had gone.

The dagger that now rested on the small of her back next to her water pouch.

Ten long years had passed, three of which she had lived in Caldera with her brother. Ever since the new government took over the Fire Nation, tensions had been high with the other nations. Their mother died from a bleeding cough four years after the fire and in his grief, their father had gone to serve under the Northern Water Tribe and patrol the waters between the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom to deter any sort of conflict. When their Gran Gran got sick with the same cough, Sokka vowed to do what it took to help her get better, which included taking Katara north with her then-"boyfriend" Aang and go to the Fire Nation to find someone who could help since the Northern Tribe had refused to send anyone down.

After they arrived in Caldera, they realized how hopeless their situation had become. Aang had left them - more specifically, her - and said he would send word if he found a way to help, and Sokka and Katara remained in the Fire Nation in order to find someone that could help their Gran Gran.

Katara sighed and shook herself back to the present as they reached the door that led to the throne room. After all, no point in lingering on the past when there was nothing she could do to fix it. The odd jobs and cons Sokka would pull helped them with getting food and minimal fabric for clothing, but it wasn't enough to get help to their Gran Gran.

There was murmuring on the other side of the curtain door, which had disintegrated at the edges even more than it had before. The perpetrator had heavy hands, apparently. Sokka turned to her and put a finger over his lips, telling her to stay quiet, and he leaned his ear towards the opening.

From the darkness, a light came out. Katara could tell that the dais had been lit for the first time in a decade. The perpetrator was also a firebender. That was rare.

Even over the sounds of the fire in the dais, she could hear a soft gasp coming from the room. She met Sokka's eyes, similar confusion in his gaze, and they both made their way to the door. Sokka strode in first, Katara right behind him, and they squared up towards the person standing on the dais.

"Hey!" Sokka shouted out, his voice echoing throughout the chamber. The person spun on his heels, face shadowed by the suddenly larger flames, and he remained frozen at being caught. Sokka took another step forward and shouted again, "How did you get in here?!"

Katara waited with baited breath for the intruder's reaction, hands lingering over the water pouch on her hip. Through the flames, she could barely make out his body, but she knew he was there. After all, when she worked in the palace she could always tell when Ozai was on his throne.

Sokka started stomping towards the dais, drawing his sword, and he barked again, "Who are you?!"

The stranger took a staggered step towards the side and then darted off. Sokka let out a yelp of surprise and followed him, Katara tailing after them both. The stranger sped through a hidden door, one that led towards the residential wings of the palace, and almost vanished entirely. Sokka shouted after him while stumbling over the debris in the hall and Katara watched as the stranger - now someone she saw that had the black hair and fair skin of the Fire Nation - leapt up another flight of stairs and bounded over the holes in the floor.

"Wait! We just want to talk to you!" Katara called to him, but to no avail. He kept running away, and Katara quickly darted up after him. Sokka had shouted something about taking the other route, but Katara blocked him out as she kept up her pursuit of the intruder.

At the top of the stairs, her foot slipped on something and she glanced down to see fresh blood of all things on the floor. Her throat tightened and she looked up to see the stranger had slowed down a bit, a limp now evident in his stride as he turned the corner and went out of her sight.

Katara slowed down and followed the path of blood on the floor, the drips growing bigger as the stranger had slowed his pace, as well. When she turned the same corner he had, she was met with him slumped against the wall of the dead end hallway where the painting of the men of the Royal Family had hung crookedly, black hair hanging down and obscuring his face.

"Hey, we just want to talk."

His head snapped up and he quickly pushed himself off the wall with arms raised for a fight, and the first thing Katara noticed about him was the burn scar mottling the entire left side of his face. Her heart sank with pity and the healer in her ached to help him, but that thought was stopped short when she met his eyes.

Golden eyes. Bright golden eyes, like those of the line of Agni.

"Katara!" Her brother's footsteps came rushing towards her and stopped right behind her. "Hey! Why did you run?"

The stranger's eyes darted to Sokka and the defensive look there did not leave. Flames sparked out of his fists into small dagger-like jets.

Katara couldn't take her eyes off of him, stunned to say the least. This stranger was a spitting image of Prince Zuko, other than the huge scar on his face and his shaggy hairstyle. If she guessed right, he would be the right age, too.

This was their ticket, the thing that would save them and their Gran Gran.

"Sokka, lower your sword," she murmured without looking away from the stranger.

"What? Katara-"

"Just do it," she hissed. The stranger's eyes darted to her and she was once again struck by his similarity to Prince Zuko. It actually pained her to think about using him for their own gain. She opened her water pouch and coated her hands with the water inside. The stranger's eyes widened and he took a staggered step back, wincing ever-so slightly when he put weight on his left leg. Katara took a step towards him and raised her hands to show her friendly intent. "It looks like you're injured. I can heal you."

The golden eyes remained skeptical and darted back to Sokka before returning to her. They were wide, but something in them told her she could take another step forward.

"I'll need you to sit so I can get a good look at it, okay?"

He nodded, surprisingly trusting of a woman he quite literally just met, then lowered his fists and put out his fire. He removed his bag from his shoulder as he pressed his back against the wall and sank to the floor. Katara walked towards him and lowered herself to her knees, then reached for his injured leg. The moment her fingers touched the bare skin above his makeshift bandage, she felt sparks dance under her skin.

Strange.

He hissed and Katara glanced up at him to make sure she hadn't hurt him, and he replied in a low and ragged voice, worn beyond his years, "Sorry. It's cold."

Katara gave him a reassuring smile as she cupped the back of his calf and removed the fabric that covered his wound. "It's alright. There's not much I can do to warm it up. Healing water is cold no matter what."

He seemed to understand her enough and nodded, his eyes glued to her now-glowing hands. The golden color was heightened by it, enhanced by his transfixed stare. She couldn't take her eyes off of him.

"What's your name?"

He tore his eyes away from her hands and met her gaze, then visibly swallowed before stating, "Lee. My name is Lee."

"I'm Katara," she replied, her smile easy. "And that's my brother Sokka."

She assumed Sokka waved by the way Lee meekly waved back to him.

Katara removed her hand from his calf and inspected the skin, pleased to see it was entirely smooth. Lee's eyes widened and he did that swallowing thing again as she moved her hand to his ankle and lifted it into her hands. Lee winced and she figured he had rolled it in the same incident as the cut, so she focused the water on the ligaments and bones that had been injured.

"What are you doing here in the palace?"

Lee was silent for a moment, then she heard him sigh quietly before he answered in his rough voice, "Got curious."

"About?"

"Not entirely sure."

She lifted her chin to meet his eyes and saw him looking out the broken window. All she could see was his scar and her heart did that churning thing whenever she saw a starving puppy or wounded cat on the street.

Though his golden eyes were clear as day.

There's no way…

"You got family, kid?"

Katara mentally groaned and rolled her eyes at her brother's brusqueness, but watched Lee and waited for his reply.

The firebender ground his teeth together, rolling his jaw in the process and he dropped his chin to his chest as he said in a mutter, "No. I don't. I just was allowed to leave the orphanage permanently. I've been there for as long as I can remember."

Katara glared at Sokka over her shoulder as she finished up healing Lee's ankle. She stood, then gave Lee a hesitant smile before turning on her heel to march to Sokka. She noticed Lee and stood as well, experimenting with putting weight on his leg and inspecting her work. As he lingered in the corner that she had trapped him in, and Katara motioned for Sokka to lean closer so they could speak privately.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

Sokka frowned. "No."

She huffed with exasperation and jerked her chin towards Lee, who was still waiting silently by the windowsill.

"What about him? He broke in, so what? He won't bother us."

Katara sighed and shook her head. "Does he look familiar at all?"

Sokka looked over her shoulder towards Lee and shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe if he parted his hair to the side and didn't have the scar, he'd look a little like Ruon-Jian?"

Katara groaned again and resisted the urge to smack herself in the forehead. "No, look a little harder."

Sokka glanced at Lee again and Katara followed his gaze. Lee was now staring up at the painting that was on the wall, the one of Fire Lord Ozai, General Iroh and the Princes Lu Ten and Zuko, and Sokka squinted. At this angle, the scar was not visible. Just the unblemished side of his face. After a long moment, Sokka's eyes widened and he let in a sharp gasp of breath.

When he met Katara's gaze again, she nodded and whispered, "The boat leaves in the morning."

Sokka grinned and patted her on the shoulder before stepping around her and striding towards Lee. The man in question turned back to them and his good eye widened as he shuffled back towards the wall, startled like a deer-cat.

"Were you planning on going anywhere, Lee?"

Lee shook his head and his hand drifted up to his chest, clutching the fabric slightly under his long fingers. "Not entirely… Though I think I need to go to Ba Sing Se…"

Sokka looked over his shoulders and met Katara's eyes, his gaze gleaming with triumph. "Well, Lee, it just so happens we're leaving on a boat for Ba Sing Se in the morning. And we have some tickets."

Katara stepped to her brother's side and pulled the aforementioned tickets out of her pocket and dangled them in front of her face, ready to play the part. "It just so happens we have a spare ticket, but that's for him."

Lee's single eyebrow cocked up. "Who?"

Sokka pointed up to the painting towards the youngest man depicted there. "Him: Prince Zuko."

Lee's eyes dropped and his shoulders sagged. "Oh."

Sokka took a few steps forward, Katara right behind him, and he stated, "We are going to reunite the Prince with his Uncle."

Katara walked beside Lee and looked him straight in the eyes. "You do kind of resemble him."

Sokka nodded and added, "The same eyes."

"The eyes of Agni."

"Ozai's smile," Sokka commented.

"Ursa's chin," Katara stated. Lee frowned and stepped away from the siblings. Katara followed him and circled him like a buzzard wasp. "He's the same age, same physical type."

Lee shook his head and gave Katara the most incredulous look she had ever seen. "Are you trying to tell me that you think that I'm Prince Zuko?"

Katara shrugged and strode around so she was in front of the painting. "All I'm trying to tell you is that I've seen thousands of boys all over the country and not one of them looks as much like the Prince as you do. I mean look at the portrait."

Lee followed her gaze and looked up to the painting. His eyes were focused on the depiction of Zuko, all young and bright-eyed, even in the aged picture. "You're crazy. That can't possibly be me."

"Why?" Katara asked as Lee lifted his hand to his left cheek and pressed against the ruined skin. His scowl grew and he removed his hand from his face as looked away from the painting and she murmured, "You said you've been at that orphanage as long as you can remember."

"No one knows what happened to him ten years ago," Sokka added, which caused Lee's good eye to widen slightly.

"You're wanting to go to Ba Sing Se," Katara remarked, taking Lee's attention again. "His only family is in Ba Sing Se. Have you ever even considered it?"

Lee's eyes drifted to the painting again. "That I could be royalty?"

Both Sokka and Katara nodded and hummed in affirmation.

Lee shrugged with his right shoulder and murmured softly, lost in the painting, "Well I don't know... It's kind of hard to think of yourself as a Prince when you're sleeping on a damp floor. But sure, yeah, I guess every lonely boy would hope he's a prince, or whatever."

Sokka and Katara met each other's eyes and the siblings both turned to walk away. Sokka called out over his shoulder, "We'd like to help, really, but the third ticket is for Prince Zuko. You can stay here as long as you'd like, but there's not much here."

Lee sighed, but didn't seem to notice them leaving. Katara glanced back at him, curious about the orphan with the scar, and then turned back to Sokka. "Should we just invite him to come with us?"

Sokka shook his head and kept on walking towards the stairs. "If he doesn't believe he's Zuko, then he won't help us sell it and win us that reward money. He has to believe that he is the lost prince, not just act like it."

Katara looked back to Lee and saw he had dropped his gaze to his feet and was frowning deeply. She wanted to stop and wait for him, but Sokka was insisting they take it slow and he would come to them.

By the time they reached the stairs, Lee was running towards them with his bag slung on his back and a determined look in his eye. She had seen that same look of determination in Prince Zuko when he was escaping the palace.

"Katara, wait!"

An involuntary shiver ran down her spine.

Sokka gave her that triumphant smile and they both turned towards the approaching man.

"If I don't remember who I am, then who's to say I'm not a prince or whatever he is... Right?"

Both Katara and Sokka nodded.

"And if I'm not Zuko, the General will certainly know right away and it's all just an honest mistake," Lee remarked, meeting their eyes and nodded along with them.

Sokka flashed him one of those winning smiles and replied, "But if you are the prince, then you'll finally know who you are and have your family back."

The hopeful look in Lee's eyes almost made Katara feel bad for having to use him. Almost. She started chuckling lightly and added, "You know, he's right! Either way, it gets you to Ba Sing Se."

That determination was back and Katara knew then and there they had their Zuko.


tbc.