AN: Someone reminded me the other day of a most excellent story that was part of what inspired me to write this one. It is called Scarlet and Black, written by Vathara. It's short but pretty cool, so if you like blind!Zuko stories I suggest you take a look at it.

Iroh kept on talking about problems. He kept on talking about the difficulty of hiding things from the crew. Zuko's eyes were unfocused, he said. And he moved like someone in the dark. They wouldn't be able to keep Zuko in bed sick much longer before one of the men would get suspicious, he said. And for some reason he seemed to think that Zuko actually intended to stay in bed to hide his blindness.

Zuko had no such intentions. He suspected that Iroh was just trying to discourage him from hunting down the Avatar. For some reason, his uncle seemed to think it was a false hope, a goal that Zuko would never be able to achieve. Of course it wasn't. Zuko's father would never have given Zuko false hope; he was always one for harsh truth.

Zuko's blindness would certainly make things more difficult, but he was confident that he could manage to not only hide it but capture the Avatar while still blind. It was a peculiar kind of confidence. It wasn't that he thought he was a good enough firebender to defeat a hundred year old master of all types of bending, and it wasn't that he was really sure of just how he was going to fight despite his blindness (though he had a few ideas). It was that he had to capture the Avatar in order to regain his honor. And what he had to do, he would. So perhaps it was not confidence as much as it was resolve. Indeed, perhaps Zuko would never capture the Avatar, but in that case he would be dead and unable to mourn his inability, since he was resolved to either achieve his goal or die in the attempt.

As for hiding his blindness, well. He had at least half of an idea of how to do that.

"Are my eyes really that unfocused?" he asked his uncle three days after waking up on the ship.

A short pause. Pauses had never mattered to Zuko when he was able to read people's expressions. As it was, he did not know whether his uncle was wincing at the question, smiling in amusement, or merely taking a moment to consider the matter.

Eventually he answered, "They really are. I do not believe anyone could see your eyes as they are and believe that you are neither blind nor sick. Your sickness hid it from me, but you will be well soon, nephew. There will be no excuse for your eyes being unable to focus."

For a moment Zuko concentrated very hard, attempting to glare the way he used to (already it was past tense!) when he had his vision and was particularly annoyed by something. "That any better?"

"What exactly are you trying to do, nephew?"

"I'm trying to focus my eyes. I'm trying to glare!" Zuko exclaimed. "Is it any better?"

Another pause. Zuko used to like silence, but he was beginning to hate it. Then, his uncle's voice again. "No."

Zuko gritted his teeth. "Fine then."

"You'll agree to stay in this room until I can make arrangements for staying in the Earth Kingdom?" Iroh asked hopefully. In addition to trying to discourage Zuko, he had also been trying to put forward a plan of staying in privacy in the Earth Kingdom until they could figure out a way to cancel Zuko's banishment without capturing the Avatar. Zuko did not like this plan. Maybe it involved returning to the Fire Nation, but it would never return his honor. He could only regain that by completing the task his father had set for him.

"No," he said. "I'm not going to hide, uncle. Just because I have to trick people into thinking I can see does not mean I am going to hide away from them entirely!"

Iroh let out a long, weary sigh and shifted in his seated position on Zuko's bed (which recently felt more like a prison). "Then how do you plan to trick them into thinking you can see?"

"Mask," Zuko said.

And another pause.

"I can get a mask to cover my entire face," Zuko explained quickly. Enough of awkward silences. "If we get one with eye slits thin enough to hide my eyes from view or with some kind of a filter, no one will be able to see my eyes and no one will know that I'm not actually looking at anything. As long as I direct my head towards whatever I'm supposed to be looking at, it should be fine."

"Ah," said Iroh. "Well. And what will your excuse be for wearing a mask all the time? Won't the crew find that a little strange?"

Zuko swallowed. He was swallowing his pride, really. He didn't like this part.

"It's not strange to want to hide a scar."

Iroh said nothing. Zuko was beginning to realize just how often, when they were talking, Iroh really did say nothing, just nodded and let Zuko talk. Usually it was reassuring. Now he thought it might become a nightmare.

"It is going to leave a scar, right?" he said. "My eye. It got burned really badly. And if it doesn't leave a scar, we could always lie and say it did."

"It's going to leave a scar," Iroh said gravely. His hand touched Zuko on the shoulder and lightly squeezed. "You have not seen how bad it is yet."

Yet? Zuko almost wanted to laugh. They were still living in a dream, thinking of the short term problems involved with his blindness, how to hide it, how to capture the Avatar. But Zuko would never be able to see. If the eye ended up with a scar, it wouldn't matter; he still wouldn't see it. Iroh still wasn't really thinking long term. But then, neither was Zuko. They could sort out things like that, the long term implications of his injury, after he had regained his honor.

He nodded. "Good. I don't want to lie more than I have to." It was funny. Him saying that the scar he would definitely have when his eye healed…was good. But it was. It was an excellent excuse to wear a mask, and that was what Zuko currently needed.

Iroh did not really like the idea of his nephew always covering his face, apparently. He tried to argue the matter for a while. Eventually, Zuko won out (partially through sheer stubbornness) and Iroh agreed to stop at a nearby port the next day and buy Zuko a mask to cover his full face. Zuko sighed in relief. Things would be very hard if Iroh continued to resist his decisions. As soon as he knew how to hide his blindness without assistance things would get easier, but in the meantime he had very little control over his own life or plans. He could barely walk five paces from his bed as it was because of his weakness, the movement of the ship and the fact that he kept on bumping into some table. This trapped him in his bedroom, unable to maneuver or fetch anything for himself. And he couldn't communicate with the crew, even from his own bed, until he had the mask. It was a complete nuisance.

And so he was very happy when the boat made anchor in port the next day, and Iroh set out to get Zuko a mask.

Only it sort of left Zuko alone and unable to leave his room, and Zuko did not like being alone in the (not) dark. It was so very boring.

So about an hour after Iroh left Zuko, telling him he was off to buy a mask, Zuko decided that it was about time he had a look around his room. Figuratively, anyways. It was going to be more of a stroll or a feel around his room, but the point was that he had no idea what existed in the room besides the door, his bed, and a small bedside table that he had just about trained himself not to bump into. It was about time that he figured out exactly what else this room contained. And if there really was nothing it but a bed and a table, well, he would find that out.

He started by feeling the wall behind his headboard. He had noticed a couple times when he had touched it absently earlier that there was a tapestry there. Now he felt it more carefully, picking up on the texture. It was smooth but not so smooth that he couldn't feel the individual threads, a tapestry indeed and not some random cloth. There had to be some kind of a design on it. He traced with his fingers the borders where thread type changed completely and a bump seemed to signify the difference. There was a large shape, rising up and down and up and down, and in and around and up and down and…oh.

It was a Fire Nation emblem. The tapestry above his headboard was not a tapestry after all, but a Fire Nation flag.

Zuko's first thought was that it was rather unoriginal and predictable. But on second thought, he felt pleased. He was a prince of the Fire Nation even if he was banished, and it was only fitting that his bedroom be decorated with his country's flag. In fact, it would almost have been disappointing if there wasn't one.

His hand lingered on the fabric for a moment before moving onto the wooden wall it was hanging on. Feeling the wall for support and in order to keep his bearings, he lowered his feet to the ground and stood beside his bed. He pretty much had his sea legs by now, though he was still a little shaky.

Keeping one hand on the wall, he stretched the other hand out in front of him so he would not bump into anything and started walking forward. The bedside table was on the other side of his bed, so this area was a complete mystery to him.

He hated himself for it, but he couldn't help but be cautious, taking slow steps, wary of tripping on something or kicking something by accident. His hand twitched in front of him, waiting to touch something. And then it did. Another wall.

Zuko walked a few more steps and he was standing in the corner of his room to the top right of his bed. He added the corner to a mostly barren mental map he had been trying to make of the place and of the ship in general. Not a lot of information there.

Turning parallel to the new wall, which should be parallel to his bed, he kept on slowly walking, feeling in front of him and along the wall as he went.

His hand on the wall came across something first this time. Something that was not wooden, even. It was small, resting on some small metal pegs on the wall, and it was made of metal but rounded off. He slid his hand further across it. It was long and mostly rounded, but the metal part only went on for a couple inches. Past there it was softer, possibly made of leather. The metal came back a couple times down the length of the…object, but only in narrow rings around it. Then, at what was apparently the top of the item, the metal encrusted the end. This end had an opening, though the opening was narrow. Zuko fingered the opening for a few moments before understanding.

Oh. A sheath.

He mentally cursed. If he had been able to see he could have recognized a sheath in a second, no, in a millisecond. And even without his sight he should have been able to recognize a sheath a bit faster than that, after the training he had received in swordsmanship. He had to stop being so disoriented and learn how to rely on senses other than sight.

The sheath was a bit wider than normal, and Zuko wondered why. More importantly, if the sheath was sitting there on the wall, where was the sword that should have gone in it? Was it mounted above the sheath? Frowning, Zuko slid his hand up the wall again.

When his middle finger suddenly came in contact with something sharp, he yelped. Automatically, he put his hand to his mouth and licked at the finger. Yes. Blood. His uncle had been gone for less than an hour and he had already hurt himself. Well, at least the cut wasn't deep. Just deep enough to draw blood and be a nuisance until it healed.

Zuko felt his mouth twist into a scowl. Why did Iroh leave a sword hanging on his wall anyways? Shouldn't he have taken it down after he found out Zuko was blind? Then Zuko wouldn't have had to discover it by slicing his finger open. Then again, that probably would have annoyed him even more than the sword being left where it was. Though Zuko was blind, he wasn't helpless. He couldn't allow himself to be helpless.

He put his hand up again, more slowly and carefully this time and once again found the edge of the sword. He touched it gingerly and then moved his hand so that rather than pressing his fingertip against the cutting edge he was caressing the flat. It was a bit wide, this sword. Zuko suspected it was a little unbalanced.

He found the hilt of the sword easily, and barely resisted the temptation to just pick it off the wall and swing it around a bit-with the luck he'd been having, he'd cut his hand off, or maybe a whole arm. Instead, he continued inching his hand up the sword, trying to find the point. Halfway there, there was something pricking his finger again, but he stopped his hand in time to avoid bleeding this time.

Another edge?

Frowning, Zuko felt around the edge to discover the flat of another sword, crossed over the first. Ah. That would explain its peculiar width and balance. It was a dual dao sword, one of a pair of broadswords that would balance each other out. Zuko knew how to wield dual dao swords; it had been part of his swordsmanship training that he had been more interested in than most. Most people focused on one sword techniques and training, but Zuko liked the balance of having two. He had worked on sword forms almost as much as on his firebending forms, and at the cost of some firebending practice and skill had gotten to the point where he could do dual dao sword forms with his eyes closed.

But could he do them on a ship, blind?

Well, there was only one way to find out. And maybe it would end with him accidentally chopping his arm off, but oh well. Stuff like that happened.

Gently, he lifted the two swords from the wall, one in each hand. He was weak from his sickness, but not so weak that he couldn't hold dual dao swords. As soon as he lifted them, they felt like extensions to his arms. The forms…they started with the swords connected, if these two had a place where they could connect and become one sword…

They did.

Zuko fitted the swords together and, with the typical bow to begin any form, began his practice. He kept both hands on the hilt of the sword, since it was heavy enough to require that much strength. There were stabs, sweeping motions, blocks…Eventually the swords came apart, and the form became more complicated. He had to keep track of where both swords were pointing, and the blocks became more complicated as well.

Thank goodness the ship was anchored in port, keeping the swaying under Zuko's feet to a minimum. Otherwise Zuko was afraid he might indeed have accidentally impaled himself.

The form went as well as could be expected, only Zuko could not do the steps associated with the arm motions because he did not want to walk into or stab a wall. So he could only do the parts where he waved the sword, but it was still more exercise than he'd had in days. The sweat on his body when he finally placed the swords back on the wall felt familiar and right.

Iroh would probably be annoyed if he knew. He kept on wanting Zuko to rest, take it easy. It was all right; Zuko just wouldn't tell him. He slid into bed more easily than he'd gotten out of it to wait for Iroh and in a few minutes he was already asleep.

AN:Warning-it could be a month or so before I post again. I seem to have gotten myself involved in NaNoWriMo, which starts in a couple days, so I am not going to have enough time/writing energy to write fanfiction for a while. I mean, I'll update when I can, but don't expect that to be November.

To reviewers: Thanks to all of you! I have never gotten this many reviews for the first couple of chapters of a story, and it makes me very happy! I responded to most of you, but to those I couldn't respond to, read below...

Veloren: I hope it means Daredevil!Zuko. We'll see if he can pull it off. As for skipping ahead to canon, it will probably happen eventually, but not very soon.

Speedy Hobbit: I think the blindness is Zuko's only problem currently, other than the obvious banishment issues.

Nameless guests: Thanks for the compliments and I update as much as my life allows.

Countdown: Yeah, writing without including visuals is probably the most difficult and fun part of writing this story. Glad you're reading!