A/N: All right guys, here's the deal. I've been a lazy bum all summer and haven't really worked on this at all. But I feel guilty, seeing how many hits the last chapter has, knowing that people keep clicking here looking for an update, only to be disappointed. So here's an update. You can consider this story to be on partial hiatus. That means, I'm continuing it, but the updates might be slow in coming. Again appologies and thanks for your continued patience.

Chapter Thirteen

Hope was a funny thing, General Iroh mused as he paid only half a mind to the teaching game of pai-sho he was playing. It could be as strong and powerful as a dragon or as small and fragile as a butterfly. Not so long ago, he had feared that his nephew had lost his hope, when the news of Zhao's promotion seemingly crushed his spirit. Up until that point Prince Zuko had dauntlessly pursued the Avatar, even when there had been no sign of his existence for the first two years of his hunt. Iroh's role had been, and still was, a precarious one. He attempted to temper the boy's highs and lows, neither wanting his hopes to become unrealistic (and thereby sparing him overwhelming disappointment) nor so wan that he became despondent. It would have been a tricky balancing act to master even if Zuko had been a normal teen instead of a banished Prince, but Iroh believed himself up to the challenge.

Still, there were times when he vacillated, like now. Although he personally felt Prince Zuko's chances for capturing the Avatar on Misty Island were slim, he was hesitant to say anything at this point. The teen currently engaging in an energetic conversation with Lieutenant Jee and the helmsman was so different from the dejected boy of a few weeks ago that Iroh was reluctant to interfere.

So he played his favorite game; the small bridge enabling him to keep an ear on Prince Zuko's strategy meeting at the same time. Currently they were plotting a course that would bring the ship into a small but deep harbor at Misty Island. His nephew, who usually flew by the seat of his pants when it came to capturing the Avatar, had obviously put a bit more thought into the impending operation. He asked if it were possible to bring the ship in at night and was actually listening to his subordinates' opinions and suggestions.

Iroh was proud of the signs of maturation Zuko was showing, not only in his interactions with the crew, but in the more careful and studied approach he was using to achieve his goal. He seemed to be making more of an effort to get along with Shiori too; all were signs of improved leadership skills, which in turn gave Iroh hope that one day his country would be in superb hands.

The three man conference ended and Prince Zuko came to stand next to his seated uncle. "Well, it's all settled. We'll arrive at the harbor tonight. I'll take the soldiers, a few 'rhinos and Shiori and disembark. You'll take the ship to the lee side of Komodo Island. It's in Fire Nation waters, but if I'm not on board it shouldn't matter."

Iroh couldn't help but hear the touch of bitterness in his nephew's voice as he spoke, not that he could blame the boy for it. "Komodo Island? Prince Zuko, you do understand that if you signal for our help it will take over an hour for the ship to return?"

"I know, Uncle, but the Avatar is least likely to fly in from the west, so that is the best place to hide the ship."

Iroh slid a pai-sho piece across the table before giving his nephew an approving smile. "And its harbors are too shallow to allow Admiral Zhao's ships in; very good Prince Zuko."

The boy flushed slightly before bowing his head. "Well, it was actually Lieutenant Jee's idea."

"Ah. Knowing when to follow the advice of your subordinates…"

"…Is a sign of a great leader. I know, Uncle. You've told me before."

Embarrassment made Zuko slightly curt, but Iroh wasn't done with the boy yet. "Prince Zuko, you do realize that the advantage here lies with Admiral Zhao? He has more men than you, fully trained yu-yan archers, and they have had time to establish themselves on the island. Also, we do not know how long he has been spreading his rumor; it is possible that the Avatar has already come and gone, or that he might not come at all."

The elder man risked a glance at his nephew. Hope was necessary. It kept Zuko treading water where others would have long ago drowned. But too much hope or unrealistic expectations would be just as disastrous as no hope at all. And while Iroh would have preferred to be a constant source of enthusiastic support, he loved his nephew too much to placate him with falsehoods. To his surprise, the young Prince looked more thoughtful than put out by his words of caution.

"I know, Uncle," he said finally. "That's why my first goal upon arriving at the island is to gather information. And I have a plan for that too."

"You do?"

Iroh's unguarded comment made Zuko scowl. Turning back to his on-going game of pai-sho, the retired General made a quick recovery. "Er, of course you do, Prince Zuko. Very good!" He heard a disbelieving snort behind him. Apparently his nephew's bout of even-temperedness was at its end.

"Do you know where Shiori is? I need to talk to her."

"If she's not on deck, try the rhino pens. That girl certainly knows the value of practicing her basics."

Iroh could feel the glare his teasing words provoked and waited for the usual surly retort or demonstrative fire bending. When the Prince made to leave without giving either response, Iroh found himself overwhelmed with a flood of affection. He turned slightly to call after the boy. "Prince Zuko, Misty Island is a very damp place. Make sure you pack warmly."

"I know, Uncle."

"Oh, and be sure to take some ginger root with your supplies, in case someone catches cold."

Zuko was walking away quicker now, his cheeks flushed. "I know, I know!"

"And, Prince Zuko…"

"Arg!"

A belch of flame and smoke temporarily obscured the helm; when it cleared Zuko was long gone. Blinking, Iroh refocused on the pai-sho board, while his opponent continued to stare after the Prince. He slid a tile across the board.

"Looks like I win again," the satisfied General declared.

-----

Shiori was indeed in the forward compartment. Zuko found her hanging upside down from one of the cold water pipes, doing what looked like sit-ups. She caught sight of him immediately and snagged the pipe with her hands, freeing her knees and landing cat-like on her feet. She looked at him expectantly.

"We're going to land at Misty Island tonight," Zuko began without preamble, "and I have a mission for you."

The girl wiped the sheen of sweat off of her face and tucked a few loose strands of straight brown hair away before giving him a genuine smile. Encouraged, he elaborated.

"We figure it was Zhao who hired the pirates to spread the rumor about the mantis ray-bat. Most likely he's already stationed men on the island; probably some fire benders and the yu-yan he commandeered from Colonel Shiloh. What we need to know is where they're camped at, how long they've been there and whether or not the Avatar has been spotted or captured yet."

Zuko pulled out a scroll map of Misty Island and unfurled it onto a nearby bale of hay. He was so into sharing his plan that he failed to notice that the smile on Shiori's face was rapidly fading into a look of alarm.

"The Avatar will show up; I know he will. Capturing him is my destiny. But, it's possible we've missed him…" Zuko's hands began tightening into fists at the thought. With an effort, he forced them to relax.

"Anyways, when we land, we'll need information. That's where you come in. You're practically a yu-yan, so it'll be easy for you to track down Zhao's camp and infiltrate it. You can find out where he has stationed his men and whether or not he has any other plans up his sleeves. Then…"

"No, I can't."

Prince Zuko, not expecting to be interrupted, shifted his gaze from the map to the girl. She had gone a few shades pale, her ruddy eyes wide as one hand touched the omnipresent red headband on her brow. "I can't," she repeated softly, "they'll know I'm not yu-yan."

Zuko frowned. "If it's your clothes you're worried about, we can make you a yu-yan outfit. A black headband, some face paint… you'll be fine." He impatiently turned back to the map; in his mind, the matter settled.

Shiori stared in horror at the back of Zuko's shaved head, fighting the impulse to grab the high-tied ponytail and give it a spiteful pull. It was one thing to serve the Prince while her future commander remained a shadowy rival to his goal; it was quite another thing to be asked to directly oppose the man. The older teenager obviously didn't know what he was asking… and what did he mean that he'd give her a black headband and some face paint, as if that was all that was required to turn her into a proper yu-yan?

Shiori found her state of near panic turning sharply into anger. No, he didn't understand; he didn't understand anything. And why should he? Born a Prince, born lucky, as Keisuke would have said; what would he know about the necessity of hard work and dedication to achieve a goal? What would he know about not having a place in the world unless you chiseled one out for yourself?

Heh, how stupid I've been, working hard, training day and night for years, tolerating challenges and tests like this one, when clearly it was only a change of wardrobe that I required.

Zuko, oblivious to the mood swings going on behind him, was blithely reviewing points of interest on the map, too absorbed in the task to realize that his audience wasn't paying any attention. Ire and desperation mounting to the point of rashness, Shiori spoke over him.

"It won't work."

One of Zuko's hands tightened into a fist, then relaxed slightly as he gave her a golden-eyed glare over his shoulder. "I thought you weren't supposed to speak unless I asked you a question."

The trainee could feel the anger flash in her eyes and for once did not care. She tilted her chin up rebelliously, her jaw clenched so tight that it ached. The Prince stared at her, turned back to his map and then, with an irritated snort, whirled around to face her fully. Standing erect with his arms crossed in front of his chest, the sixteen year old attempted to stare her down; however, compared to the masters on Simetra Island, Shiori found his glower lacked the intensity to properly cow her.

The silence in the chamber stretched; only the oblivious rhinos stirred, until Zuko finally broke.

"What!? What is it that won't work?"

Shiori took a deep breath and let it out slowly before answering. "The yu-yan are too small of a group to be infiltrated by a stranger, even one who knows their ways. And besides, even if I could somehow fool the others, my brother Keisuke, he'd recognize me for sure and he'd know I'm too young to be a graduate."

Zuko blinked at her. "You have a brother?"

Shiori gave a tight-lipped nod. Even if the Prince couldn't understand how important it was for her not to be seen by Admiral Zhao, surely he'd know that she couldn't risk embarrassing her only brother. Her whole goal in becoming yu-yan was to reunite them, not to find herself opposing him because of stupid fire bending nobles who had nothing better to do but squabble over a piece of Avatar-catching glory.

But rather than an expression of dawning comprehension at the situation he was trying to put her in, Prince Zuko's countenance took a turn for the worse. Eyes narrowed, he stared at her with growing contempt.

"An older brother?" he asked.

Puzzled by this line of questioning, Shiori just nodded.

The older teen's voice had become dangerously quiet. "And I suppose he didn't skip a year, unlike his natural genius of a little sister."

Natural genius? What is he going on about? "No, he didn't."

"Of course not. Things are just easy for you; aren't they? Your brother works hard and tries his best, but your father loves you more because you're just so perfect. I bet you don't even want to be yu-yan. You just couldn't stand him being better than you at something, so you had to follow along and show him up at archery too."

The sharp crack of flesh meeting flesh seemed to echo throughout the chamber. Shiori wasn't sure who was more surprised: the Prince, whose cheek was beginning to glow red where she had slapped him, or herself. Her hand stung, but not as much as the hot, angry tears that threatened to overwhelm her eyes.

"I love my brother," she hissed. "I haven't seen my parents since I was three; they're too busy being big, important fire benders to care about what their non-bending children are up to. Keisuke is my only family; he's the only one who matters to me. Once I'm yu-yan, we'll be together again, as equals. It won't matter who got there first or how long it took them…"

Shiori's arms wrapped around herself in a one person hug. Only the barest thread of self control kept her from breaking down into unintelligible sobs, for the gravity of what she had just done had started to sink in. Forget talking back; she had struck a Prince, the Prince. Banished or not, that had to be an extremely punishable offense. Despite everything she had just said about reuniting with Keisuke, she had just flushed her one chance of doing so down the toilet. Ducking her head in shame, she darted past the stupefied boy and fled the room.

Zuko stood immobilized, anger waging war with guilt. Since his banishment, he had had few opportunities to interact with girls his own age, nearly none if one discounted the Water Tribe girl. One thing he remembered clearly though, was that making girls cry was a bad thing. His frustration at the situation seethed just under the surface; he had too much to deal with as it was without adding a temperamental teenager to the mix. Why did everything always seem to blow up in his face?

Zuko growled a little at himself, not daring to fire bend in the hay and grain laden environment. Then an image of his mother's kind face formed in his memory. She had made him apologize the few times he had accidentally inspired tears from Ty-Lee, even though Azula was more often than not the true cause of said tears.

Grimacing as his guilt won out; the teen Prince realized that Shiori wasn't Azula and he had no right to accuse her of Azula-type motivations. What did it matter to him why she wanted to be a yu-yan? So long as she functioned as one while serving him, that's what was important.

Prince Zuko shifted his weight, debating on whether or not to leave things alone or attempt to fix them. A childish part of him wished for his Uncle's gentle wisdom, but he couldn't quite bring himself to admit to the man that he had provoked yet another fight with the younger girl.

"Well, I guess I can't make things much worse," he muttered to himself. A komodo-rhino snorted softly in its stall. Scowling, Zuko set off to soothe Shiori's ruffled feathers. With a sigh, he found himself wistfully thinking of his sister's stoic friend Mai, who never seemed to react emotionally to anything. Of course, he had never accused her of trying to spitefully usurp her brother's glory either.

Shaking his head at his error in judgment, Zuko slowly headed in the direction of Shiori's room, where hopefully he'd find the girl and somehow make things right.