The night was unnaturally cold. It had rained only hours before and now the drop in temperature, usually unfelt in the Fire Nation, had left the streets empty save for a few stragglers. A man clad all in black stood on the ridge of a high rooftop. The blue and white paint of his mask glinted underneath the waning moon. From afar, he could pass for a statue, but he waited with practiced calm, silent and focused. It didn't take long for his target to exit the tavern. People were nothing if not predictable. The guard stumbled down the street, a hulking figure dressed in standard Fire Nation black, but the gold trimmed shoulder plates indicated his high rank.

The masked man crept from roof to roof for another block, following diligently behind like a shadow, until the guard turned down a narrow street with no facing windows. In swift succession, he dropped down from the roof, unsheathed his dual broadswords and pinned the guard beneath their sharpened edges.

The guard blinked up, annoyed. "What do you want?" But the fear in his eyes dulled the demand.

"You are in no position to be asking questions. Tell me when the shipment is coming." He needed to intercept it before it reached the harbour. Once it was loaded onto a ship, it would be out of his reach.

The guard paled, shifting underneath the menacing stare of the mask. "I won't tell you so you might as well kill me, Blue Spirit." He sneered the name as if he were tasting age-old sea slugs left to rot in the sun.

"You wish to die without honour?" He regarded the guard with a pitying frown beneath the mask. The loyalty of these men were misplaced. They sought only to please the royal family but in doing so, they had left much of their own city in ruins.

"What does a thief know of honour?" He spat, white spittle splattering onto the mask.

"I know that there is a shipment of new explosive shells." He had relaxed his stance but now he leaned in, driving his swords closer to the man's skin. "And I know what will happen when it reaches its destination. Where is the honour in massacring a village?" His voice involuntarily tightened towards the end, angry and foreboding; he could issue threat after threat but in his albeit short time as the Blue Spirit, a slight intonation made all the difference. It was a suggestion of loss of control. By the way the guard flinched back into the wall, it was enough.

"If they're…" His voice squeaked and he swallowed nervously to clear it. "If they're harbouring rebels then they had it coming. The Fire Nation only seeks to bring peace. If those earth kingdom peasants can't understand that then –"

"Then what?" the masked man snapped, cutting him off. "They deserve to die? Explosive shells will not spare the life of a woman or a child. Tell me the time, guard. I am losing my patience." To emphasise his point, he pressed the blades where they crisscrossed at the jugular, not to draw blood but enough to become uncomfortable.

"I will never tell you! I am a loyal commander to Fire Lord Ozai!"

The masked man sighed. It always ended this way. Too often the Fire Nation's reverence for the royal family left the Blue Spirit with very little options. He sheathed his swords with one fluid move, only to draw a smaller dagger from his left boot. He pressed it against the cheek of the guard; this time, he did draw blood. Just a thin slice. "Do you know what happens to a commander who can no longer fight?" He left another incision by the guard's right eye. "He is retired. Forgotten. Without honour, without respect. I will not ask a third time. When is the shipment coming from the factory?"

The guard appeared to understand the implication of his words. If there was something worth more than their loyalty, it was their position. The Blue Spirit knew these military men well; he could smell their selfish opportunistic greed a mile away. "The shipment…" The guard hesitated, but only for a second as the Blue Spirit pressed the dagger dangerously close to his eye. "It'll arrive two nights from now! From the western gates."

"What time?"

"I don't know." The Blue Spirit traced the curve of the guard's brow with the tip, almost as delicately as he would with the stroke of a paintbrush. Blood pooled in the crease of the guard's lid. "I swear! I They didn't tell me! Please, please…" He trailed off, the fear making his voice quiver.

"I will spare your life, but not out of mercy, out of pity. With every breath you take from here on out, remember that your life is as meaningless to me as it is to the Fire Lord. But now, you have the chance to make amends for your sins. Stray from this path and regain your honour." He flipped his dagger and brought the hilt down onto the guard's head, effectively ending their conversation.

The Blue Spirit turned from the crumpled guard. In two nights time, he would have to intercept a shipment of highly flammable explosives around a unit of firebenders. It was times like this that made him wish for a partner.

.

.

"Are you having trouble sleeping again, nephew?"

Zuko rubbed his tired eyes before taking a seat across from his uncle. The rotund former general had already placed a steaming cup of tea in front of him. Ginseng by the smell. "Why do you ask, uncle?"

"The sun is already up. You are normally meditating at this hour."

His uncle sipped at his tea but his eyes remained on Zuko. They weren't suspicious, only concerned. It made Zuko's stomach tighten with guilt. He looked down at his own cup of tea and shrugged. "It was cold last night."

"Hmm, so it was," Uncle Iroh acquiesced, before remembering something and smiling widely. This did little to help Zuko's constitution this morning. Anything that made his uncle that happy usually made him very unhappy. "Xun was looking for you yesterday!" Zuko sighed audibly and pressed his lips to the cup to keep from speaking. His uncle took it as a sign to carry on. "The boy looks up to you, Zuko. You should not be so quick to dismiss a young boy's admiration."

"His admiration is entirely unjustified, uncle. I have done nothing to deserve it."

"On the contrary!" Uncle Iroh exclaimed, startling a still bleary-eyed Zuko. "You have done more than anyone else. You have listened to him. All a child really wants is to know they are being heard."

Zuko clenched the ceramic cup tightly in his hands. He was too easy for uncle to manipulate; too susceptible to a small boy who craved attention and praise. "What did Xun want?"

No longer than a couple of hours later, Zuko found himself walking behind an excitable young boy with black shaggy hair and big amber eyes. A wooden stick trailed behind him as he chattered excitedly about the upcoming Fire Nation Festival. It was to be held at the end of the month; a celebration of their culture. "Will you take me, Lee? Please!"

Please, please…

The memory jarred him for a moment. The guilt coiled even tighter from where it had remained from the conversation with his uncle this morning.

"Lee?" The young boy walked back to where Zuko had stopped in the middle of Harbour City. He proceeded to poke him with the stick when Zuko didn't reply right away. "Hey, are you even listening?"

"Yes," Zuko snapped, and pushed the stick aside. "And don't poke me with that thing."

Xun rolled his eyes and started to walk ahead again. "You should teach me how to use it and then I'll stop poking you."

"It's a stick. There is no use to it."

"It's a sword!" Xun stopped and whirled around to poke Zuko again. "See, look. It's got a pointy edge and a little handle thing." He turned the wooden stick around and to the side so Zuko could see. "Mama said I'm not allowed a real sword so Dad made me one."

Zuko raised a hand toward the boy with his palm facing up. Xun dropped the sword eagerly into his hand and watched as Zuko twisted it this way and that. As a practice sword, he had to admit it was a good size and weight for Xun, but the thought of the young ten-year-old having any need to fight with a real sword made Zuko uneasy. "Why do you need to learn how to use a sword anyway?" He handed it back to Xun and continued walking through the market.

"In case the other nations attack!" Xun cried out as he raced to catch up. "Or to protect my house from thieves." He walked in step with Zuko, glancing up at him with wide hopeful eyes. "So will you teach me, Lee? Please?"

"How do you know I can even fight?"

"Uncle Mushi said you were a great fighter before you had to come take care of him."

This stopped Zuko again. Why must his uncle always overshare? One of these days, he would let something slip and then they'd both have to spend the rest of their days imprisoned at Boiling Rock. Azula would love that.

"So is that a yes?" Xun nudged him with his bony elbow. "Will you teach me to fight? I want to be great just like you."

Zuko opened his mouth to deny him but was abruptly cut off when three large men around his age stepped into view. They wore black tunics with dark red shoulder plates, and sheathed at their sides were the standard long-bladed swords. Zuko sighed inwardly.

"You're better off learning from the old witch lady how to fight," one of them said, laughing at his own joke. Zuko had never bothered to learn their names but they knew his unfortunately.

"Lee's probably a better fighter than all of you!"

Zuko refrained from thumping his forehead with the palm of his hand. This kid needed to learn to keep his tongue in check. "C'mon, Xun. Let's go find your mama." He put a hand to the boy's shoulder. Zuko was surprised to find he could feel Xun's muscles tensing spasmodically as he clenched and unclenched his hand around the wooden sword.

"Oh yeah, Xun, why don't you and Lee run along to your mama?" All three boys snorted derisively. Even their taunting was lacklustre. Zuko could only imagine how abysmal their fighting would be.

"Xun," Zuko warned, his hand now gripping the boy's shoulder. "Move." Under any circumstances, he would be forced to defend his honour, and that of his young friend, but to fight three guards in broad daylight, even if they were still in training, would be stupid.

They made it barely two steps before Zuko felt something smash into the back of his head. Cold liquid dripped down into his tunic. They must have thrown the same object at Xun because before Zuko could react, the boy had already run off toward the three men. Laughter rang out, and a moment later, Xun was sent crashing into a wagon wheel cart, his wooden sword snapped in half at his feet. Zuko's control slipped then. He could appreciate the need for calm in a moment like this, especially when the risk of being discovered was so high, but he was still at his core a hotheaded eighteen-year-old. "You're going to regret that."

The one closest to him lunged forward. Zuko easily sidestepped the man before ramming an elbow into his back. This knocked him off-balance, giving Zuko the chance to swipe at his feet. Seeing their companion flat on his back forced the other two to unsheathe their swords. Without firebending or his dual swords, Zuko was seemingly at a disadvantage, but it wasn't a fair fight in the end. With a few swift moves, Zuko had managed to capture the sword of one man and knock the sword off of the other. He was tempted to reach for the fallen weapon but not many people in this city could wield dual swords and he wasn't about to draw any more attention to himself than he already had. He kicked it instead so it would slide away from the reach of the guards.

The guard that had fallen down first was now advancing toward Zuko, sword at the ready. His grip was more confident than his companions. He was probably more skilled too.

"What is going on!" A tall man with gold trimmed metal shoulders walked towards them. The three guards visibly paled and fell into line with their heads bowed. "Actually, I don't want to know. What I do want to know is why you are here instead of where I assigned you. Anyone? Tengen?" Neither of the men responded. That was when the commander took notice of Zuko. "You. Who are you?"

"Lee, sir. I am just a lowly tea servant." Zuko was glad he grew out his hair over the past year. It was shaggy enough now to hide part of his scar, but none of that would matter if this commander had any power within the royal army. If he did, he would know Zuko's face.

"What are you doing with that sword?"

Relieved, Zuko instantly surrendered over the sword. He bowed his head and kept it at an angle towards the ground. He may not recognise him but he would not risk the commander studying his face for too long.

"The next time I see you fighting in my city, I'll throw you and your brother in the cells," the commander snapped, gesturing to Zuko and then to Xun, who was now standing beside him. "As for you three, didn't I tell you to report to Commander Zhao? The Fire Princess' ship will arrive in two day's time and they need the dungeon cleared for the prisoner. Go now before I throw you in there with her!"

All three guards scurried off, but Zuko stood immobilised by the commander's last words. His sister had captured someone important enough to be kept in the dungeon. Someone that needed Commander Zhao's supervision. The latter thought was what really held his interest. Whoever this person was, they did not deserve what Zhao indubitably had planned. The man was sadistic, cruel without reason or honour, but maybe worst of all, he was effective. No one had ever undergone Zhao's torture with their secrets intact. If this prisoner was as important as they were making her seem, nothing good could come out of having her secrets spilled to the Fire Nation.

Zuko would have to free her.

A/N: This has been a story that has been bouncing around in my head for quite some time – to the point that I actually changed my tumblr url to the title of this fic. I knew I would've written it one day but one day came sooner than I thought, and so now here I am. And if you have read it thus far, I would so greatly appreciate a little comment. I really would love to hear what you think of it! But then, I also appreciate that you read it at all, so thank you. I hope you enjoyed it!