Chapter 1

Zuko was angry.

But that wasn't exactly rare. It happened to him a lot.

Especially when he had to walk across the forest like a savage, depending on people's pity for food, having to listen to his Uncle scratching places that should never be scratched, and having to watch the same man offer him food with the same hand that was just doing the scratching of the unmentionable places.

Nothing like berries with old people pubes on them.

The worst part was that he could even bend some fire to get rid of the anger. And it was building up inside him. He could feel it, a little fire monster inside his gut, just telling him to burn something. And every time that nothing burned, the little monster got more and more angry, until all he could feel was that familiar blinding rage.

He breathed out, letting as much heat as he could without letting it glow red. It was satisfying, in a grim way. He would have to hid his bending, but they couldn't completely take it away. Thank Agni for small favors.

If Agni would only favor him a less insane uncle.

"Nephew! Look at this!" His uncle called, sounding just like a child. "These kind people have the white dragon bush in their yard! You can tell this is the correct one."

Zuko could only look at him incredulously, the sheer stupidity temporarily pushing out all thoughts. Even his anger went away for a second.

Thankfully, the healer smacked his hand away. She was probably used to dealing with that brand of stupidity.

"But-"

Zuko had enough. "Uncle! You just nearly died and now you're trying to trying to kill yourself again for a retarded drink when we should be worrying about just getting enough water to live off of! " Zuko yelled angrily, stopping when he had felt his point had been proven.

His uncle and Song both gasped, and he started to feel a little bit of a guilt creep up on him. Maybe he shouldn't have used retarded on him. His uncle was always there for him, even against Azula, right after Zuko had insulted him. Sure he had some oddities, but Zuko could definitely handle-

"The white jade bush is not retarded, nephew. I cannot believe... my own family..." His uncle shook his head in disappointment, somehow keeping the disappointed air while still scratching away at his rashes.

Zuko pinched his nose in frustration. Every time he tried to be better and more patient, his uncle just pushed him.

"I'm going for a walk," Zuko decided out loud. He said it in the tone of voice he used to command his men. Uncle wouldn't argue.

"Be careful, nephew. And make sure to come back in time for roast duck!" he was told by an Iroh that was now covered in some medicinal paste.

Zuko ignored it and walked toward the street. The healer's house was pretty far away from any other shops, so he had to walk quite a bit before he reached any other people. Self consciously, he tried pulling at his hair to hide his scar. Ineffectually, since the hair was not even an inch long.

At least he was much less likely to be recognized here. Things might not be so bad.

He must have jinxed himself, because at that moment, he heard the last thing he hoped for.

"Stop here!" a feminine voice said rang out from the other side of the shops he was walking alongside, and it was filled with expectant authority, making even him want to pause. He didn't, out of sheer stubbornness to never do as she said. It irritated him further, the instinct. She was better than him in so many things, but he thought he at least had ordering people around! But no. This girl would away be the bane of his existence.

His sister.

Zuko gritted his teeth and crouched, trying to hide and get closer at the same time. He didn't want to be found out, but he had this irrational need to find out what she was saying. Only, Azula was doing that lowering of her voice to seem more dramatically dramatic by making drama, so he couldn't hear anything.

Of course, trying to get closer to the people hunting you wasn't exactly un-dramatic.

It was a specialty of their family.

But he was pretty good at being stealthy. He had trained for years, and even had real life experience against a whole fire nation stronghold. He could do a quick recon mission.

Looking around quickly, he made his decision. He would try to find out more. A very opportunely alone soldier later, and Zuko had stolen a uniform and had hidden the knocked out soldier in a bush. Only after doing all that, he thought about how obvious this would be after the soldier woke up, and how he and his Uncle would have to run from the town.

Too late to go back on it though.

"... so the soldiers on my right, you will go into the Earth Kingdom and post these wanted posters," his sister was finishing her orders, and was now pointing at a couple of waist high boxes. That was a lot of posters.

How did they even print those out so fast... they had just run away from Azula.

It was probably just Azula's evil fear inspiring motivation. It made everyone under her command act like they were on super strength ginseng tea.

"You."

Zuko snapped his head away from the posters, seeing his sister pointing a hand right at him. Shit.

He tried to put on his most convincing simpering voice. "Yes, princess Azula?" He could feel bile coming up at saying that.

"I suppose my father has told you to keep guard for me?" Azula asked with a raised eyebrow. Anyone else, and Zuko would've been scared. Anyone else, and he wouldn't have caught the slight petulant tone in her voice.

He almost laughed at her.

"With your permission, Princess Azula," he bowed low, almost grinning now.

"As long as you know who's in charge here," Azula sneered back. "Fine. Just stay out of my way." Then she started to walk away.

Zuko pressed his lips together to keep the giggles in. That, or shoot a flame at the back of her head. They were both equally strong instincts.

"Actually..." Azula span back around. "Go back to camp and get me a messenger hawk. I need to tell the fire lord about his traitor brother helping his useless son escape."

It wasn't as amusing anymore.

He clenched his fists, trying as hard as he could to keep his anger in. He should have practiced more. It was extremely hard to do.

His sister, sharp as ever, saw this, and raised the other eyebrow at him. He was stupid. Very stupid. No one would ever show her that much insolence. As much as he hated it, he had to simper even more now.

"Of course, princess," he bowed so that his mask didn't show his eyes scrunching in anger. "Right away, your highness." As quickly as he could, without setting too much suspicion, he got up and set a brisk pace away from the crazy bitch.

But he made another mistake.

In his haste to get the hell out of there, he walked straight toward Song's house, where his Uncle was.

So stupid.

"Going to get Uncle to save your ass again, Zuzu?" she mocked from behind him. "You even got where the camp is wrong, and our flagis right there. I thought you were at least a little less pathetic than that, but I overestimated you." He could practically feel the smugness oozing off her. "And that's pretty hard to do."

Red clouded his vision. With a cry, he turned around and attacked. Again, he could tell he was screwed, and this time he didn't even have his uncle to save him. It was just like she said.

She mocked him even worse than the last time, probably having remembered how he moved. He'd forgotten how much smarter she was than him. Not even bothering to use both hands this time, she just slapped his shots before they hit her. Each time she did it, he got more angry and less efficient.

It had been over before it even started.

Finally, she gave a tired little sigh and ducked under him, grabbing his legs and throwing him up in the air, making him flip and land half on his head and half on his side.

The only respite he had was that he was too angry to feel the humiliation.

She also kept up a steady stream of taunting the whole time, clearly enjoying her superiority, which was even more humiliating since it meant that she wasn't even bothering to maximize her stamina with the proper breathing techniques. He wasn't worth even that.

From the ground, he saw that she looked almost disappointed, if there wasn't so much mocking in her face. "I guess it's time to arrest you now," she said with the same fake expression. And then she said something that finally cut through his anger. "You should be grateful, you know. I should kill you, but killing Uncle will have to do for now."

And for one of the first times in his life, he was afraid. And not for himself.

His uncle was in no state to fight, the swelling in his face still going down and his vision wasn't very good. His overall mobility would be impaired as well. Not only that, but Iroh didn't know that Azula was going for him so she would have the element of surprise. And his Uncle was so trusting. As sharp as he still seemed, he trusted Zuko to not get in trouble so he wouldn't be expecting anything.

Zuko didn't deserve the trust.

With an uncharacteristic clarity, he knew just what to do.

He put his weight on his back, spinning his legs above him and kicking out as much fire as he could. When the spin brought his front to the ground, he pushed off with his hands so that he landed on his feet. He caught his sister's eyes widening just the tiniest bit while she stepped away and he almost felt proud.

But he didn't waste any time, punching as much fire as he could at her general direction, pushing out so much of it that he lost sight of her after only a few seconds.

He kept punching and punching until he could barely lift his arms. Then he punched some more.

When he was finally satisfied, he bent down on knees, sucking at the air greedily. He had never thrown that much fire. His inner fire felt weak, like its fuel was almost out, but it would get better after a breather.

He looked up, and saw Azula had barely moved from her spot, and there wasn't a singed hair on her. He had expected that, to be honest, but it was still irritating. Especially how he knew, just knew that she wouldn't show that she was the slightest bit tired, even if she was exhausted right now. It was to make him seem completely unworthy of her effort. He knew this, but it still worked.

You'll never catch up.

"Impressive," his sister nodded, looking around her at all the fire. "For a ten year old throwing a tantrum," she grinned.

Shocking even himself, he laughed, though it was dry and humorless. "Not your best insult Azula, but that wasn't the point of it," he grinned triumphantly. Just this once. "Look," he pointed up at the air

She scrunched her eyebrows, actually looking up. She scoffed. "There's nothing but smoke."

"Exactly," he nodded up at her, still on the ground. "And now Uncle knows something happened to me."

Again, she scoffed. "You're such a dumdum. I'll still have you captive, and he'll do anything I want so that I don't hurt you," she mocked in a sniveling voice. "Now stop being irritating and I'll kill him quickly. For old time's sake."

Emotions fought for control of his body, like they always were. It was the constant struggle he lived with A little Uncle in his shoulder was always telling him to do the right thing, think about what he wanted and to have the courage to do it; preferably with tea and music. On the other shoulder a little father told him that he was a disgrace and that he should be more ruthless, be more like his sister. That he shouldn't care at all about what his Uncle said and that he should do anything that was necessary for the fire nation to rule over the world.

But for once, his Uncle was winning. His sister was insane and his Uncle was all he had left. If there was any honor left in him, it was with his uncle. He had to do anything to keep that.

Yet, despite himself, he felt a tiny amount of affection for his sister. As messed up as she was in the head, he could tell that she was being kind, in her own evil way. He had no delusions. She would kill him without a second thought, but she really was that insane, where she thought she was being sincerely kind by offering to kill the person that cared about him the most a quick death.

Unbidden, a couple of the few happy memories they had came to him and he got a crazy idea. He didn't even have to fake the grin, thinking he was going slightly insane as well.

Maybe it was normal in their family.

Maybe he would be a better bender after he got crazy as well?

It's a nice thought, at least.

His sister saw his plotting face and laughed again. "Oh Zuzu. I can beat you no matter what you try."

The anger wasn't fake when he glared at her. As he got ready to chance it anyways—he didn't really have anything better—he stopped inching his hand up(which his sister had noticed) and his eyes flicked toward the woods. His face lit up.

He grinned back up at her. "You're not going to capture me. Uncle's already here to save me," he smiled wider and looked behind her.

He saw her eyes get big, then narrow in concentration for battle, lastly turning around to face what Zuko was looking at. She looked ready to fight, and her head swiveled from side to side trying to see through the trees for his Uncle.

And then Zuko ran.

He could hear Azula make an offended noise at the back of her throat behind him. He almost laughed again. Cowardly as it seemed, he really had no other choice. The only problem was that he had to run the other way, and he was getting farther and farther from his Uncle.

After a while, he stopped and caught his breath. He dropped on his back and breathed hard, exhausted from both fighting Azula and running.

And then felt pain searing through his arm.

While he was lying there, his sister had apparently caught up to him and thrown a fireball right at him. It hit the ground right next to him, and it sent him flying sideways. He was barely able to get up and start running again, his arm was hurting so much. When he looked at it, it made him want to throw up.

He knew his burns well and he would probably get mobility back, but it would be grotesquely scarred for the rest of his life.

Another scar.

But he was still able to get up and run, since he didn't have any other options. Even with his sister's taunting behind him, he couldn't stop. "So slow, brother," he heard her shout at him. "The more you run, the more I'll hurt Uncle fatso."

"You're fat!" he shouted back childish and ran even faster. He had been exhausted a long time ago, but if there was one thing that he could beat Azula in, was being stubborn. She always turned that against him, but running was a simple thing. She couldn't trick him here, couldn't make him stop. He never quit.

The trees were getting closer and closer together, and it was getting harder for him to keep up his speed. The good thing was that it was probably getting harder and harder for his sister to track him. Letting his instincts take over him, he reacted without thought while maintaining the speed.

Bush, he jumped over the low foliage.

Branch, he ducked under a low hanging one.

Giant Rock, he widened his eyes and tried to slow down, but ran into a wall. He fell on his butt.

Groaning, he got up and looked along the wall, which he now saw was the giant mountain that was visible from town. He had no idea he ran so far. It must have been miles.

And he was so thirsty.

Maybe he should start looking for water. From a pond or something, like a common savage. With a sigh, he again thought about how low he'd fallen from royalty.

And then had to dodge.

He'd forgotten just how fucking annoying his sister was. He'd forgotten that while he could run on sheer stubbornness, she could run on pure evil. Evil was the ultimate fuel source.

As he panted and scrambled away, he caught side of an opening in the wall. If it was a small cavern and he went in it, he'd be done, but he was already up against a wall, so it was practically his only choice.

Desperately, he ran into the dark, hoping against hope that it was a series of tunnels that all led out to different parts of the mountains, and that he could lose his sister in there.

The good thing was that the cave was big and looked to go in for a long time. He'd rather not do that though, so he'd try to keep his options open.

After a few hundred yards inside, he stopped and looked toward the entrance. He didn't see anyone following, which was weird. It would be very hard for anyone to sneak in there without him noticing, too, so he didn't know why it was happening.

He kept all his senses as open and unobstructed as he could by staying absolutely still. Finally he heard something and it confused him even more. He could hear the telltale sounds of lightning, but it would be impossible for it to hit him from so far away. Especially when he could see out there perfectly and he was shrouded in the shadows so she couldn't see him at all.

The sound of rocks breaking was his answer. As was the darkening of his surroundings.

He had ducked into a dip on the wall in case the lightning actually reached this far without hitting anything, but sprang up when he heard the rocks. He caught a glimpse of the entrance, and it crumbling. He gasped in shock and dismay.

His sister had closed him in.

In a cave. A dark, scary cave where he was scarily alone. And he was scared.

But he wouldn't admit that. Just in the off case that she had some crazy evil plot with evil spies all around him, he refused to show even a whimper.

He did, however, go over a list of options in his mind.

1- He could try to bust himself out. While that would be by far the most satisfying option, he was already too tired, so he didn't know if he could. Also, Azula was on the other side.

2- He could try to find another exit by going deeper in the cavern. Probably the smartest option, but also the scariest. There could be all types of animals in there.

3- He could sit there and wait for someone to rescue him. Unacceptable. Both to his pride and common sense.

So he reluctantly did the smart thing for once. He went deeper inside, hoping that he could find some other way. Otherwise he was pretty much dead.

He walked for a long time.

He'd been walking for hours now, and he was thirstier than ever. He'd been attacked by wolfbats, he'd had to pee while holding up a flame to see—he couldn't firebend with his burned arm now so his arm hurt like hell the whole time he was holding himself—and he was more irritated than ever.

And he knew that he'd gone past this wall before. He just knew it.

Growling in frustration, he forced himself to pick up the pace, even though he was already going faster than was safe for something that you couldn't see. He could trip or not see a drop or something and die, but going any slower would let the desperation set in, and he couldn't allow that. He was already going on almost pure instinct.

And he was so thirsty, and his arm hurt so much. If he didn't get it treated soon, he was in serious danger of losing it. Then he'd really be useless. His father barely even had any use for him now—and even that was debatable. If he lost his arm, he wouldn't be able to fight well, no matter how good he got at firebending. Even if he became a master.

Despair was setting in, he could feel it. He was never going to get out. And his inner flame was going to be snuffed out in this dark damp place, just like any real flame.

He was going to die.

No. Never give up without a fight.

He thought about his uncle, thought about him most recently with his face all blotted and still somehow smiling. He had to get back to his uncle.

Breathing just like uncle taught him, he made sure to pool the air in the lowest part of his lungs, as close to his stomach as he could. Fire comes from the breath.

He roared and concentrated on making his flame as small and hot as possible, so that it would explode instead of just splashing against the rock. He needed to break through, not just heat it.

He heard the satisfying sound of the rocks in front of him breaking.

And then he heard it above him.

Katara was worried. They'd been stuck in this stupid cave for hours. All because they decided to follow the singing nomads and go through the cave of two lovers.

And now Sokka might be dead.

Aang had assured her that he had pushed her brother and all of the nomads out of the way of the falling rocks, but she still had that nagging feeling. Like someone was injured in the cave. And Yugoda had taught her to never ignore her instincts when it came to injuries, because her bending would sometimes try to help her out like that.

Katara was pretty sure she didn't mean it in this way, but Yugoda couldn't be picky. She had told her this, and Katara was going to use it for her argument, and the old lady could suck it!

At least they had found the tomb. That was actually pretty awesome.

If she had to die in a cave, having discovered something in the process would make it less humiliating.

And it was beautiful. The story was so romantic. The only thing that would've made it better was if Oma had killed herself right after making peace. Just to join her lover. Also to make the villages feel even worse about killing her love, but that was just her vindictive side coming out.

She almost swooned thinking about it.

Especially how they kissed right where she stood, in the dark. Just like their statues...

"Hey, Aang," she called him. Unable to stop her mouth. "I have a crazy idea."

"What is it?" he asked, his big childish eyes staring up at her.

"Nothing," she balked, "it's too crazy."

He insisted on it, and she reconsidered.

"Well, here is says that love is brightest in the dark..." she pointed needlessly. "And there's a picture of them kissing..."

"Where are you going with this?" he asked her cluelessly.

As much as she didn't want to encourage his crush, well, she really was desperate. And if she was going to die in this cave, then she should at least have a last kiss with someone she actually loved instead of having had her last one with Jet, who she now hated. "Well, I thought that maybe... we should kiss?" his eyes widened and stared up at her in shock.

He opened his mouth to respond, but never got to say anything, because a loud crash sounded out behind them. They glanced at each other and quickly went to investigate. He seemed just curious, while her stride was more desperate. Ominous scenarios ran through her head.

Maybe it was Sokka.

They came across another circular door, just like the one that Appa had to knock down on the way there.

She quickly coaxed Appa to do it again.

When it opened and she saw the darkness, she paused. Loud crashing was always bad... maybe she shouldn't go in there.

They both stood outside and looked at each other, trying to tell the other to go first. They could hear a male voice, and it wasn't her brother or any of the nomads, so she didn't want to go first.

He might be creepy or something.

She nudged Aang, trying to push him inside. He protested. "Why should I go first?" he asked in a little voice.

"You have the torch," she hissed back.

"Well, you're the one healer," he shot back. "What if there's someone injured in there?"

Her eyes widened and she immediately knew he was right. That must have been was what she was feeling earlier. Quick as a whip, she snatched the torch from his hand and ran inside, shooting back a quick, "stay with Appa!"

"Hello?" she called loudly.

A pained groan was all she got back, and she quickened her pace with a gasp.

"Oh, my..." she put a hand over her mouth to hold back the bile.

There was a man on the floor, right next to a pile of rocks. She could see they had landed on top of him and he had somehow dug himself out, which must have been an incredible amount of toughness because she could see not only the bruises along his whole body from the rocks, but also an arm that had burn marks all over it.

That on top of the cuts from the rocks.

That poor, poor man.

After a few more seconds of staring she chastised herself for hesitating, even if it was the most brutal sight she'd ever laid eyes on. She fell on her knees beside him, her hand right hand automatically bringing out some of the water in her pouch. Her other arm tried to push him on his back so that she could see how bad his front was. She almost dropped the water, having recognized him immediately by the telltale scar.

Zuko.

Again she hesitated and again she chastised herself when he gave another groan. This one had a particularly ominous sounding wheeze to it.

Screw it, she thought. It didn't matter who he was. Yugoda had taught her that. Healers always healed. It wasn't a very hard motto to remember.

She worked on his chest first, cutting away the clothes with an ice-knife. It wasn't as bad as she feared. He had a couple of broken ribs, but nothing shattered. He would be fine.

She healed that hastily, trying to use as little water as possible, which wasn't very good for healing, but she still had that arm to deal with.

And the arm did need a lot more water. She made used the same technique on it, healing only a third of the flesh, but evenly, so that it would be able to heal by itself. It wouldn't look that different at first, but if there was healthy skin it would grow around the damaged portion and push the damaged skin out.

The reason that scars were made, was when a large area was damaged, the healthy area was too far to get to it and couldn't quite connect again. By having healthy skin a few millimeters apart from each other, it would be close enough to where there wouldn't even be a scar. It was one of the most advanced techniques that Yugoda taught.

She wasn't completely sure she had done it right, having never tested on an actual human, but it was better than nothing.

Then she ended up using the rest of her water on his hand and forearm. That she didn't want to chance. A scar on his upper arm might be ugly—though that location could even pass as just rugged—but the hand and forearm could actually affect mobility.

Though it would be terribly convenient if Zuko couldn't use that arm to send fireballs at them... well, she couldn't wish that on anyone: not being able to use the full extent of their bending. That was probably the worst fate she could think of.

That, and he looked so pitiful right then. He looked nothing like the prince with a ship full of soldiers attacking her. Or the jerk that tied her to a tree and taunted her.

He looked like a beat up boy. Alone and injured.

Her heartstrings were plucked, and there was nothing she could do about it. She was sure it'd go back to normal once he woke up and started calling her peasant again.

So she just kept working.

The only break she took was when Aang came over to make sure that she was fine. For some reason that she couldn't explain to herself, she put his shirt over his face when Aang showed up, so that he couldn't tell it was Zuko. It was probably just the fact that Aang might tell her to stop healing him. Or maybe he'd want to watch and make sure she was fine, which would rankle on her, since she was perfectly able to defend herself. Especially in the condition that Zuko was in.

Either way, she sent him away, and she felt better at once. Which was weird. Because she was alone with Zuko.

Finally after almost half an hour of working on him, he woke back up with a groan.

Katara put the water back in her canteen, and then grimaced. She would have to wash it out later. She didn't want to drink bloody water later. Then she moved away from the prince, ready to defend herself from whatever his reaction would be. Whether it was yelling, or fireballs, or even tackling her.

He did none of those things. It was... interesting.

"Waterbender?" he asked in a confused voice, like if he wasn't sure he wasn't dreaming.

Maybe he had nightmares about her? Maybe about her kicking his butt in the North Pole? She grinned at the thought.

"Katara," she corrected.

"Riiiiight..." he drawled. What did that mean? "Am I dead?" he asked and tried to sit up. He immediately dropped back down, holding his ribs.

"No," she snapped, "and don't try to sit up. You're injured."

"Yeah... I didn't think so," he groaned again.

"Oh?" she asked, more to keep him talking than anything. She wouldn't get many chances to hear him where he wasn't a complete jerk.

"Yeah," he nodded a little. "I don't think it would feel like this if I was dead." He paused and clarified, "it hurts like a bitch."

Katara paused and stared at him wide eyed. Rude!

She made an offended little noise in the back of her throat and protested, "don't... don't talk like that!"

He shooed her words away. "But it doesn't hurt as much as it did," he frowned. "My hand barely hurts at all. It actually feels– why are you putting water on my arm?" he asked her with a raised eyebrow. "And why is it glowing?"

"I'm healing you, you dolt," she told him in a brisk tone. She was still nervous about him blowing up.

But he didn't. He merely said, "oh," and then put his head back on the floor. He seemed so... apathetic about it. Nothing like the prince she knew and loved. Or you know, hated.

The nervousness was the only reason for why she did what she did next, which was try to joke with him. "Yeah," she cringe-grinned at him. "you know, so that you can throw fire at us with both hands. Won't be the same if you only chase us with one arm."

He didn't laugh, which was completely expected. However, she at least expected him to get cranky.

Zuko didn't even as much as huff.

It was just uncomfortable, too, having an apathetic Zuko in front of her. He was arrogant, and angry, and a whole bunch of things, but never... that.

"I'm not chasing you anymore," he finally spoke, and she almost froze at that pronouncement. Just the thought of it, it just didn't seem normal. She almost wanted him to chase them, it had become so familiar. It was practically routine. Wake up, tend to the boys, help out a village, drive off Zuko. Lather, rinse, repeat.

"Why not?" she asked him and was startled to hear sadness in her voice.

In response, he just took out a piece of paper and handed it to her.

She gasped when she saw it. It was a wanted poster of him and the man that was always with him. His grandfather? She didn't think so. Uncle, probably.

"What did you do?" she asked him incredulously. "Try to kill your father?"

"Worse," he answered monotonously. "Failed to get the avatar."

Again, she put her hand over hear mouth. Even if she had hated him a few minutes ago, all she could feel was pity for him. If she had known that if he failed this would've happened...

Well, no. It wouldn't have changed anything.

But still. No wonder he was so angry, having a father like that. It was despicable.

"So what are you and your... uncle? Yeah? What are you and your uncle gonna do now?"

He just shrugged. "Run? Hide?" he answered. "I don't know."

He just seemed so depressed that Katara couldn't help but try to cheer him up. "At least now you can stop fighting and try and be happy..." He just looked at her blankly. "You know, have fun, get some friends, a girlfriend. Stuff you couldn't do on a ship."

Zuko just scoffed. "A girlfriend. With this." He pointed to his own face, and Katara could feel her pity reach unheard of levels.

She had seen his face, and it had always made him seem more grotesque. More... evil. Everything he did, the scar made him seem angrier, and that made him seem more like the enemy. She had never thought twice about it, except for the one time that she had a random thought about Zuko trying to spy on them, and how the scar would make him really hard to blend in. She had been grateful for it.

But now she just felt so bad about it. It must have been really hard living with that. And he was so young.

She had to do something.

So then she got a really crazy idea.

She started unbuttoning the front of her shirt, and Zuko's eyes widened a little, looking at her in alarm. She had forgotten how perverted boys were. She just reached inside and brought out the little container of water, opening it and taking the miniscule amount of water out.

"This is water from the spirit oasis," she told him, half to make sure he wouldn't slap her hand away and throw out the super important water, and half so that he knew what she was doing for him. He should appreciate it. "It has magical healing properties. I've been saving it for something really important... but..." she pointed at his scar, asking for permission.

His eye widened again, but this time, that's all he did. He seemed completely frozen. She could understand that, to a point. It would seem impossible if someone offered it to her. He had probably had a hard time learning to live with it, and her getting his hopes up... he probably thought she was trying to trick him.

So before he could think himself up a storm and then attack her, she brought the water to his face.

Zuko gasped under her, but she kept going. The water was difficult to handle for some reason, and it fought against the scar, like the scar didn't want to heal. It took almost a full minute, but finally all the water had sunk into his face, and they were left staring at each other.

Slowly, she saw him bring up a hand to feel his face, and she gave him a smile of reassurance. He looked perfect. Beautiful even, if she had to admit it.

He did look like a prince, after all.

The only thing that looked out of place was the eyebrow that was still missing. But it was a major improvement, and that might start to grow back after a few days. Probably. They'd have to see.

She kept smiling at him, and he just kept staring at her. It was sort of unsettling just how intensely he was staring. It made her all sorts of uncomfortable.

So she chose to use the only comfortable emotion she could find. Slight irritation. She had healed him and used her most important possession on him. He could thank her.

While she got ready her scoldy-bossy-mom-voice to use on him, Aang had sauntered up to them.

"Hey, Katara, are you almost done here beca- Zuko!" he sprang back about twelve feet on recognizing him., putting his hands up to defend. Then he looked at Katara. "Katara! That's Zuko!"

Katara just rolled her eyes. Yes, I think I recognized him myself, thanks."

"Oh," Aang brought down his hands. "You're healing him," he stated, but it sounded more like a question.

"He was really hurt," Katara informed him.

"Yeah, but..."

"Hey, you're the one that made us save him in the North Pole. The rest of us were ready to let him die," Katara argued. Then looked at Zuko quickly. "No offense," she added. He, however, didn't seem to be paying attention to anything being said. He still had his hand on his face, and he was still staring at her unblinkingly.

Seriously. He should blink. She had just healed that eye, he wasn't going to ruin it by drying the eye to injury.

"Oh," Aang repeated. "How injured is he, does he need to travel with us for a little while?"

Zuko finally seemed to snap out of it and he started shaking his head, but she cut him off. "Yes," she said firmly. "I need to get more water and finish healing his arm and his ribs."

The prince in question blinked his eyes and—surprise—looked at her weirdly. At least he was blinking this time.

She knew it had to hurt to not blink that much, because he was pretty much doing nothing but blinking at her now. Boys were so stupid.

"Okay," Aang sighed. He didn't look that happy about it, which was completely understandable. Katara herself wasn't... why was she happy about this?

She shouldn't be happy...

It probably just her healer instincts wanting to make sure that her patient didn't have a relapse of—oh, who was she kidding. She felt bad for him. She wanted to make him smile, that's how sad it was. She pitied him with a pitiful amount of pity.

And she didn't even care. She didn't even know where the scar had come from. But she was sure when she found out she would feel even worse, and then she'd want to tuck him in at night, and bring him seal-milk and tell him nice non-firenation bedtime stories where everything was happy and nobody died or ended with a village being burned down.

"Come on," she told Zuko with what she thought was a reassuring smile, but it just made him stare even more oddly at her. She'd work on that.