"No!" A light sheen of sweat made his pale skin glow with the radiance of the torches surrounding his bed. His breathing was uneven and his pupils dilated as he slid out of his bed, walking towards the exit. Zuko shook off his nightmarish sights and opened the metal door, his feet padding along the cool surface of the ground. He gently hugged himself as he walked towards the bathroom, realizing his dreams were getting worse with every passing night. He opened the door and cupped some water in his hands, standing over the washbasin. He splashed the cool water onto his face, and then stared at his reflection in the water. For a moment, he saw himself as a young child, still flawless, with that naive smile on his face. He blinked his eyes and saw his current self now, his long hair not quite covering the scar that marred the left half of his shocked face. He gently pressed one finger to the rough skin there, before angrily looking away from the washbasin, remembering the meaning behind the cursed scar. He had been banished, scarred by his own father. His honor was lost. A tear fell from his closed lids, traveling down his nose and into the washbasin. This was morning for him for the past few weeks, each time more painful than the last.
Iroh had heard the footsteps of his troubled nephew that early dawn, knowing that something was wrong. He shifted over in his bed, staring at his door and waiting for the Prince's footsteps coming back to the door, but when they didn't come, he sighed and got out of bed. He knew, along with most of the ship's crew, that lately Zuko was on edge. He would tell no one why, simply ask to be left alone. Now, as his uncle, the former prince was worried for him. He knew when something was troubling the young man, and he was the only one who could possibly help, it seemed. He walked down the hallways, yawning loudly as he neared the bathroom door. Zuko looked up from the washbasin and splashed water on his face once more, hiding his tears.
"Nephew, the Sun hasn't even risen yet. Why are you awake?" the old man inquired, sleep apparent in his voice. Zuko heated up his body and the water on his face turned to steam, as he turned to his wise uncle. To be honest, he wasn't sure what to tell him. Would he understand the dreams he was having lately? Zuko simply looked down, shrugging his shoulders once as to answer without speaking. Iroh knew Zuko better than anyone, perhaps even Zuko himself, and had the strong feeling that his nephew was hiding something. Putting a hand on his shoulder, the Dragon of the West looked Zuko in the eyes, seeing turmoil and conflict in his melting, golden irises. "If you ever need to talk to somebody, you know I'm here for you, nephew." He said quietly, before turning around and leaving to get ready for the day.
Zuko is found an hour later, meditating in his room, by a servant on the ship. The young man knew that the Prince had quite a temper, so he refrained from coming inside to clean the room. He stood in the doorway, wondering whether to move on or wait for him to finish. Zuko noticed him and stood up.
"Come in, do your work. Just don't bother me." he said quietly, before sitting back down and closing his eyes, relighting the candles in front of him. The servant hastily cleaned the room and left, mumbling a "good day" before moving on to the next room. When he left, Zuko sighed and stood up, walking over to his bed. He took out a small scroll from beneath his pillow, unfurling it and staring at it glumly.
"Mother…" he whispered to himself, closing his eyes and shutting the scroll, holding it close to him. His dreams had been very regretful, about the day he had been scarred. His mother was the only one who might've been kind to him in his childhood, and now she was gone. He saw glimpses of her in his dreams, how she would smile at him and tell him he had done well. He gently tucked the scroll back beneath his pillow, deciding to go check on the rest of the ship.
General Iroh had been walking down the hallway as Zuko left his room, a brow raised in thought at his realization the young prince hadn't eaten that morning. He walked up to him and put a hand on his shoulder, "Are you sure everything is alright, nephew? You seem tense…" he said thoughtfully, stopping the now nervous fire bender in his tracks. Zuko shook his head, turning to his Uncle carefully.
"No, I'm not alright. I need time to think, uncle… It feels like I messed up somewhere," his voice just above a whisper as he turned away and began to walk to his destination. Was he right to be following the Avatar? Was that his true calling? Besides, was he really ensured a person like his father would keep his word…? Zuko sighed sharply and kept his chin up, walking towards the deck of the ship, hoping to find some peace in the gentle break of waves against the metal hull of Fire Nation property. Iroh stood where he was, one hand at his chin. Zuko seemed to be realizing his destiny.
On the deck of the ship, Zuko stood stoically. His eyes closed, and lungs open, he felt the ocean spray against his skin. His nightmare came back to him, making him clench his fists as the vivid picture came back.
Thirteen and innocent, Zuko stood before his father. "I won't fight you!" he yelled, eyes filled with fear. The Fire Lord smiled evilly, coming closer to the young child. "You are not worthy of being my son. You are a failure!" his voice echoed across the giant black abyss they stood in, as the Fire Lord came closer and yet closer still. He raised one palm to Zuko's face, and all he could see was an orange blaze, skin burning and tears falling. The Fire Lord laughed maniacally at his rubbish son, thrusting out another fist and burning the poor child once more. Soon, the traitor stopped moving, still on the ground. Feeling no pain for the loss of his only son, his father turned and left, leaving Zuko dead and uncared for. All he could hear was that one word, repeated over and over: Failure. Failure. Failure.
Zuko's eyes flew open, his skin tingling as if the burns were truly there. He despised himself, thought of himself as the dream implied. If he was to restore his honor, he would have to try harder. But something in the back of his head clicked, as if the dream held some other meaning to it. The prince couldn't figure it out, so he left the thought adrift in his labyrinth of a mind.
A/N: Well this is it so far. I hope you like it ^.^ If I don't get at least one review, however, I'm going to assume no one is reading and stop updating. There's no point if I have no readers, right? SO REVIEW IF YOU LIKE :D