A/N: I don't usually write fanfiction. I have my favorites, never really written before. This is a first. This also started out as a project for a class. (Yes, it's kind of a cool class, huh?)

It's gonna be some chapters in before you understand everything that's happening. Sorry, I just work like that. But the basic idea is if Ozai had not banished Zuko, but taught him the lesson needed to be kept in line, how would he have turned out? If his scar served as negative reinforcement ever ytime he did something too good, what would he end up being like?
So yeah, AU.

Also, Zutara.

Also, I don't own anything.

Rising Son

Zuko is the eldest of the Fire Lord's children. He is strong and broad shouldered with gold eyes that narrow when told what to do. There is a regal air about him that presents itself in his walk, in his words and when he stands before the Sages and declares himself the new ruler, no one objects.

When Prince Zuko was thirteen, people used to talk about how he'd grow up to be such a handsome man. A catch, the ladies of the court would say, and they would all glance over at their own children, hoping that someday, when he would rule, their daughters would be the one beside him.

Then, (the events are unclear as to what the Crown Prince did), but the morning after a particularly hot day (and a heated battle plan in the Fire Lord's council room, as rumor has it), the boy walked out with a blistered angry red scar stretching across the left half of his face. His eye was left a squint of what it was; his left ear, nothing more than a stump. Burn mark, they whispered. It could be nothing else, what with the sickening way the skin held to his otherwise beautiful face, and the Fire nation had more than enough knowledge on how to recognize bestowed from one of their own kind.

The largest outcome from the mystery was that the nobility stopped talking about how handsome the prince was.
The largest change in the Prince was that he stopped smiling.

People still remember Azula. Fire Lord Ozai's second born was nothing short of a prodigy. She did not have the easy expression the Crown Prince had once upon a time (the Fire Lord does not grant anything short of a sneer of a smile anymore) but she created fire at the age of five.
Prince Zuko did not show signs of bending till he was seven.

Still, there was something odd to her.
Manipulative, monster.
The court whispered these words behind the little girl's back, under voices so low that no one could possibly overhear.
The odd glint to her eyes, the crazed way she would smile; and yet forever, Ozai looked at her as if she was a jewel. There was talk on her being the successor, despite her birthplace.
She was colder than Zuko, harsher than Zuko, stronger than Zuko.

And then, one day, Azula (manipulative, monster) was gone from the Palace; a search was begun, but not even a body could be found.
The Princess had vanished, with no sign when or where she was.
A week passed. Two weeks.
A month.
Finally, an empty funeral pyre was lit in her honor.
Azula, daugher of Fire Lord Ozai and Ursa, was declared as deceased.

Her maids were nothing short of relieved.

Crown Prince Zuko-Fire Lord Zuko-ascends the throne on his nineteenth birthday.
His father is dead; Ozai was found with a stake through his heart in his chamber, brown dried blood staining the ruby red sheets.

General Iroh had not been seen for years; Azula was considered dead. The Fire nation royalty had only one successor, and in the time of six years, he had become the very epitome of what his bloodline needed him to be.
Cold and stoic, the flames behind his seat burn brighter than they ever did for his father.

What little resistance is left in the other nations falls at once.
There are no Air nomads to speak of; there have not been any in years.
The Earth Kingdom is vast and diverse, but fire can parch even the most fertile of ground.
The Water Tribes are secluded little icebergs; they are not a challenge that the enormous army of the Fire nation cannot face.

Everyone falls, and there are no benders found.

It has been two years since Fire Lord Zuko has begun his reign.

The Fire nation prospers; there is an abundance of food and water for its citizens.
People see its ruler as a God.
There is no shortage, and any want the people can have is met with service by the Court.

The Fire Lord may sneer at his subjects, but he is kinder than any Lord they have had in the past.

When Zuko is fourteen, he has already made his decision.
He is going to be Fire Lord. No matter how much his sister out skills him, and no matter how badly he has lost his father' favor, he will still find a way onto the throne.
Dreams are meant to be achieved, and though his seemed harder than most, Zuko was never one to quit.
There's an angry mark that makes itself known when he looks in the mirror. But there's an even deeper anger that shows in his eyes.

Zuko learns the lesson early on what it's like to show unnecessary kindness and then face the consequences.
He isn't going to make that mistake again. He cannot afford to.

(There will be no pale skin left on his face if he does.)

During his grandfather's rule, there used to be benders; people who could control the elements like Zuko still can.
But fire is fire, and it's all pervasive.
There are stories of water, earth, air. All the nations named after the element they could move.

But by the time his father's throne was halfway complete, there was no more sign on any other element. Whether the benders went into hiding or died off, Zuko still doesn't know. He wonders what it says about the other countries though, that their own truest citizens would cower and run away when their nation is dying.
It's for this reason Zuko thinks they're all dead.

Who could leave their country in their time of need?

(Although, if he thinks about it, his musings don't matter much. It makes it that much easier to invade a land that cannot subdue the flames that he throws.)
Who is he to complain for the actions of another?
All there is now is fire.

It is a cold night, but the girl is used to much colder.

The ground isn't firm beneath her bare feet, but she continues running as fast she can. There are doors closing all around. There are sirens sounding.
If she can get to the harbor, she is sure to escape, but she wonders if that's possible anymore.

The footsteps behind her are getting louder, closer, and she urges her legs to move forward faster.
The pouch at her waist is empty; the last person she killed has a gaping hole in his neck, but no weapon has been found on him. Rather, a pool of water surrounds his dead body, mixing with the blood still leaking.

Now, there are people on her tail, and she doesn't know what she can do besides run.
She tears through the woods, trying to get to the East Entrance. She wonders if she can slip past the huge Gates of Azulon before they shut.
Out there is the harbor, the ocean.
Inside is death.

Metal whizzes past her, whistling through the air; she darts quickly behind a tree and keeps running.
Now there are many knives and weapons being thrown. One nips her ear. The other her waist.
Still, she doesn't stop, nor does she bother stopping the small spurts of blood that come from her wounds.

If she squints, she can see the red tall gold gates up ahead. The woods open out into the clearing, and all she has to do is-
If she focuses even further, she thinks she can see a glint of blue-

Something hard thuds into her back and there is a sharp pain in her head.
There is no more blue. There isn't even red or gold.
Only black.

It is a hot morning.
Zuko has been awake since the sun has risen.
He is also not in the best of moods. There are a hundred and one problems with ruling his nation, and he is intent on fixing each one.
Ever since his father bur-ever since he was thirteen, he hasn't been focused on anything but being the light of the country.

So far, he's achieved that and more.
And yet, there is still so much work to be done.

The proof lies in the struggling, biting girl the guards drag into the hall.
The room is silent save for her cries. She resists and sticks her feet hard onto the marble floor to halt their movement; it isn't very successful, but the girl does not stop trying.

Zuko eyes her coolly from his throne. Her dress is ragged and filthy; he can't even tell the original color it might have been.
Her brown hair covers most of her face, and is in such a state of disarray, she might have been mistaken for some kind of animal if it weren't for the dark, human limbs protruding from the rag she wears.

It does not go unnoticed by him that she is being subdued by no less than three guards. When they finally stand before him, the girl gives one last yank, and then decides to calm down.

"What's all this?" Fire Lord Zuko asks the guards and he wonders if it should bother him that they don't give a full bow when they address him again. They have their hands full restraining the girl, and it is a reasonable enough excuse.
Even then, it would have bothered his father.

"My lord, this...this rebel was found near the Eastern gates."

"And?"

The guards look down, and Zuko is only the slightest bit amused that they're abashed. "She killed two men in her escape."

"What was she doing there in the first place?"

"We don't know, my lord. We think she was trying to contact someone."

"Is that so? That's a lot of information to go on."

"My lord..."

Zuko waves a hand to silence the guard's sentence. Instead, he drops his gaze to the girl in question. She is not tall, and she keeps her head lowered so he cannot see her face.
There's an oddity to it. He's curious, despite himself.

"You were right to not kill her immediately, guards. An enemy of the nation will be killed in front of the crowd. Burning at the stake should cover it, don't you think?"

It's nice to see the way the girl's back stiffens at his words. It's nice to know that that which threatens his nation won't exist.

"Yes, sire." The guards agree, and he turns his attention back to the girl.

"Lift your head." He addresses her directly, his voice taking on the tone that no one dares argue with.

The girl does not obey. Zuko narrows his eyes, and the flames behind his throne seem to flare hotter.

"Lift. Your. Head. I promise, you'll regret it if you don't."

There's a pause, and he wonders if she is even going to listen to him, and then slowly, the girl's chin lifts up. She shakes her head to dislodge some of the hair obscuring her face, and meets his gaze head on.

Blue, piercing eyes meet his, and suddenly the world spins. He can't get it to focus, and there are sudden voices yelling in his head, and for some reason, a thousand and one memories tug at the surface.
He blinks, and they all disappear, except for the blue meeting him head on.

"Keep her."

"My Lord...?"

"You heard me. Keep her. Take her to the prison hold, and make sure she's held fast."

The guards exchange looks, but Zuko does not care what they think. He knows the girl should be put to death. Capital punishment for her actions.
If he shows mercy now to enemies of his nation, there will be more room for error in the future.
His father would not allow it and Zuko is better than Ozai. He can crush any opposition much more efficiently than Ozai ever could. It took him years of hardening his heart but he has managed it.

And here, he'll go against his regular rules for curiosity's sake. Sounds about right.

The girl's eyes are still transfixed on his as the guards drag her out of the room. There's an odd expression on her face. She is neither spitting rabid nor is she sad. She looks at him with awareness that Zuko has seen on seldom individuals and he wonders what is wrong about her.
Ice cold is her face, and this time, she puts up no fight as she is led out.