Hey there readers! This is my first ever fanfic, so be nice and review! I'd really like some pointers on writing technique. Also, I'm looking for a beta, if you're interested, PM me.

The backstory to this is that while on the way to the Fire Nation, Zuko realized that Azula was going to betray him, and that his father would never accept him. So, he challenged his father to an Agni Kai when he reached the mainland. Maybe I'll write that story one day.

I wrote this originaly as a songfic to Dare You to Move by Switchfoot, but took out the lyrics and changed some of the wording. It came out better that way.

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If I owned Avatar, I would be a guy. And I'm not. So I don't own it, okay?

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His heart pounding as he pulled back the crimson curtain, the young man peered into the Agni Kai arena. All he could see was a blur of faces, bright sunlight distorting everything in his view, and, of course, fire. The bright, untamed element was dancing in the torches in the corners of the slightly raised platform, casting strange shadows on the stands. Taking a deep breath, Zuko stepped out into the arena.

He looked up into the stands. It was a mistake. All around him he could see unfriendly faces, just waiting for him to fall, to crash, to burn, to die. Zuko lifted his own face to the sky, praying to Agni that none of the fear he felt showed upon his scarred visage. Scarred from the last time he had been fool enough to challenge his father. What was he doing here?

Before the duel was to start, Zuko saw one last person. Uncle. Instead of hatred, his expression was one of hope, of compassion, of support. Zuko squared his shoulders and stood with his back to his father.

The tension in the air seemed so thick that he might choke on it. After this duel, anything could happen. After this duel, he could be Prince Zuko again. After this duel, nothing was impossible.

He turned around slowly, feeling the ceremonial Agni Kai cape flutter to the ground. He seemed a mirror image of the Fire Lord across the ring, turning to face his errant son. With only a moment before the fighting was to begin, Zuko assumed his stance.

In one bold, fluid movement, the Fire Lord struck. Zuko was nearly paralyzed with fear as he watched the fiery missile fly toward him, until something within himself screamed NO! You can't let him win! He threw up his arms, a desperate attempt at a block. He was sent flying to the very end of the arena, where he hit the floor hard. Why should I get up? He thought, why should I get up when all I do is fall?

You should get up,his mother's voice said to him, because you are strong. You are stronger then this, Zuko!

He pushed himself up with shaking arms. He was not giving up. Not now, not ever. Shock registered on the crowd's faces. "He's going to continue to fight?" one minister whispered to another. "What a fool."

"But a brave fool," the older, wiser official murmured to himself, a sad expression on his face.

Here was where things were going to go different. This Agni Kai would not be like the last. Zuko promised that to himself. There was no going back. He was going to fight like there was no past, no present, no future. Nothing but the fight.

He readied his stance, a knowing smirk on his face, and prepared for the real battle to come.

Zuko fought with a ferocity that none had known him capable of. With each kick, with each blast, with each wave upon wave of flame, his father was slowly pushed back.

Ozai countered a fist full of flame rushing towards his face with a kick that left trails of fire in its wake. He did not know how much longer he could withstand these attacks. Disgust filled him, this was Zuko, a weakling who could not even attempt to capture the avatar without embarrassing his nation, and his father. How dare Zuko force him back in this duel?

With an explosion of light and heat that nearly blinded the spectators, father and son blasted fire at each other, pushing for the flame to engulf the other. They were trapped together, the wall of fire they were creating would destroy the one who stopped his attack first. Only the bender with greater strength and power would survive this attack. So they both pushed the flame hotter and higher, and waited. Waited for the other to give out, to lose.

Zuko could feel the heat of the attack scorch his skin, but he could see his father through the curtain of flame, and the fierce, burning hatred he felt for the man gave him strength. If it weren't for this man, he would not be here, a broken young man with a scarred face who only had hate to fill his heart.

He had once loved this man, he had once adored his father. He had once had a family, he had once had a mother.If it weren't for Father, Mother would still be here. He could still see her as he had once known her, feeding the turtle-ducks in the palace gardens.

Through the heat haze of their combined attack, Zuko could almost see what his life should be like. His mother would be here, and they would be sitting in the garden, taking a rest from his lessons on how to be the Fire Lord. They would talk, and laugh, and he would be loved.

It was his Father's fault that she was gone, and he would fight for her memory, and for the future that they would never share, for the man that he would never be.

With a massive push, Zuko sent the wall of flame back onto his father. It engulfed Ozai. As the fire slowly dissipated, and died, so too died the Fire Lord, in the deadly clutches of his own element.

The first thing that Zuko noticed was the smell. The smell of charred flesh. He looked down and recoiled in horror at what he saw. His father's corpse was barely recognizable, it had been burned and twisted beyond recognition. His skin was black, the color of ash. All his hair was gone, the follicles scorched off. The body was already stiffening in rigor mortis, the face frozen in the rictus of death. Zuko turned and was sick. He had done this. He had been the monster that would cause such a complete and painful death. He had murdered his own father.

Zuko retreated a few steps, and then fell to his knees, body shaking from his silent sobs. He was a murderer. A monster. He felt an intense hatred for himself rise. He would never be able to take this back, not ever. He would have to live with it for the rest of his life. What is the point of living, he thought, when you don't even deserve to?

Zuko was too lost in his grief and self-loathing to even notice when his uncle came up behind him. He jumped when Iroh placed a hand on his shoulder. "Nephew," he said kindly, "You are not to blame." Zuko looked up, and let just a shred of hope shine through the blackness of his heart.

"You had a choice to make: your father's life, or your own. I'm glad you made the choice you did, Zuko. Your father would not have spared you. Ozai was not a merciful man. But you, my nephew, are. You will rule this nation justly, I am sure of it. You are a good man, Fire Lord Zuko."

Zuko felt his hatred, and even some of his grief, retreat at his uncle's comfort. Then the full meaning of his words filtered through. "Rule?" he asked, his voice trembling with emotion.

"Yes, my nephew, rule." Elevating his voice, Iroh cried out, "Long live Fire Lord Zuko!" The crowd echoed his words, and Iroh bade Zuko to kneel. He did, with a look of wonder and determination on his face. He would be a good Fire Lord for his nation.

The old man went and retrieved the Fire Crown, which had survived its near-incineration intact. Then, coming up behind the young Fire Lord, he plunged the spike of the crown into the base of the ponytail at the top of Zuko's head. "Long live Fire Lord Zuko," the old man murmured to himself quietly as he bowed before his beloved nephew.

Zuko rose, and stood tall before the subjects of his nation. He would not fail them. He would prove to them that he was capable, he would stop this terrible war, he would end the suffering of his nation. He would.

And so, with the light glinting of the crown of the young Fire Lord, a new era began.

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Okay there it is! Please take the time to leave a review, it only takes a minute! No flames, because they contribute to glabal warming!