Everybody is in for a treat! Although this isn't one of my favorite chapters, you're going to like what's about to happen. AND you have raidersfan777 to thank for it. Wanna know why? Well, he wanted a delicious scene between Zhao and Koori. And, let me tell you what! After thinking about it for a little bit, I was like, OMG duh! That should totally be in there! Why did I just allude to it. No way, man. That shit needs written OUT. So, viola. And we'll talk about its importance after you read the chapter.

Obviously, a big round of applause to raidersfan777 for his creative genius. And I'd personally like to thank two other reviewers for their amazingly awesome words of praise. This one's for you, KatsatheGraceling and xXbloodybiteXx. THANK YOU SO MUCH! As always, I send a PM thanking the reviewer for their time and appreciation (and I always throw in a hint or two for the next chapter), but I thought that these two made very, very important points that needed to be discussed on a larger scale.

KatsatheGraceling - Thank you for binging my story - it means the world to me. I'm really, really impressed with the fact that you pointed out my A/Ns. Yes, they are intended to defend my writing. Yes, I've had a few people in the past get upset with me because of Koori and Zhao's relationship. And the fact that you picked up on that (without me saying ANYTHING about that) floors me. When I read that, I was so flabbergasted. I just CANNOT believe how awesome you guys are when you read into my work. You're like those people I used to envy in English class - the ones who knew what everything meant in every single book.

Here's why I write them: I have spent a lot of time going through this scenario. So much time that I occasionally realize that not everybody has read a shit-ton of articles/books about Stockholm Syndrome and rapists/murders. So, I try my best to toss in little tidbits of people's sanity so I can clarify why they did what they did. I honestly want to make everything as clear as possible and those A/Ns are my way to do that. Sometimes, I wonder if people actually read them, and I'm happy to hear that you do. So, thank you for being amazing!

xXbloodybiteXx - Thank you for your review! I am desperately trying to keep everything as real as possible. Nobody gets what they want, exactly as they want it. The world doesn't work that way. And we're going to see a little bit of that continue to play out...especially in this chapter.

I'm honestly convinced that I don't need to continue making A/Ns with your guys' reviews. The amount of in-depth evaluation that everybody gives me is absolutely incredible. And I appreciate every single word.

So, without further ado, please enjoy the next chapter. And, as always, please tell me what you think when you're finished.

With his uncle's guidance, Zuko managed to hobble through the military encampment. A few soldiers stopped their nightly activities to stare as Iroh, Zuko, and Jee passed. Grim faces watched the trio return to their ship, knowing that the small party had originally started off as a foursome. They knew about the match and were eagerly waiting to see who was victorious. In hurried bursts, spectators turned away, knowing that the absence of the party's fourth member told them everything that they needed to know: Zhao won.

"They're staring," Zuko snarled in a hoarse whisper, clutching Iroh's shoulder for support.

"Let them. You fought nobly and you have nothing to be ashamed of," the Dragon of the West said, his worried face glancing at the curious eyes around them.

The group picked up their pace when Jee took Zuko's other side, knowing that the boy was uncomfortable with the onlookers. And, even though the exile refused to be carried, they made it back to the ship in record time, only struggling to walk up the bow—when Zuko had to tighten his marred abs during the incline.

When they finally made it back on deck, Jee rushed below to tell the young prince's crew that they needed to pack and report directly to Zhao before the day was through. In as few words as possible, he told the worried men the outcome of the duel, briefly glossing over the extent of Zuko's injuries. He didn't want them running to the prince's aid when the youth didn't desire their attention. And he certainly didn't want them to be irate with the boy when he fought so hard for them and for the possession of the young girl who smiled at them as she passed them in the halls.

"What about her?" one man asked, his eyes shining.

Jee looked at the man and his frown deepened. "Zhao has her now."

"No!" the helmsman cried out.

"Yes," Jee huffed, rubbing his scraggly-haired head. "And we need to forget about her. She's gone. There's nothing more that we can do for her."

"But—"

"And you need to pack. Zhao will be expecting us for our reassignments by midnight, no doubt. So," the Lieutenant sighed and shook his head, "we need to hurry."

Immediately, he turned on his heel and headed up the stairs, leaving the miserable crew behind him. Truly, they all thought that Zuko would win his duel. After all, he had beaten the Admiral once before. And, all those weeks ago, he didn't have as much on the line. They all expected Koori to remain with them for a few months—years too, if she desired. And now, now that the girl wasn't returning, their moods were very dour. Jee was impressed with their concern; they didn't ask about their own fates. They were only worried about the slave and their prince.

Still frowning, he returned to his own quarters and started packing. He hastily threw his meager possessions into a crimson duffel bag and cinched it shut before slumping down on his bed, tossing his head in his hands as he contemplated his own fate. What horrid plans did Zhao have for him and the rest of Zuko's crew? Would they be tossed aside and forgotten? Or would they be given the most awful tasks that the monstrous Admiral could think of?

How could things have gotten so horrible so quick?

Down the hall, Iroh delicately walked his nephew to his room. Zuko shuffled to his bed, bypassing Koori's nest, unable to look at the space that she should have been occupying. Instead of looking at the floor, the young prince watched his uncle retreat down the hall before he rapidly returned with a small medical kit. They had lost the funds for a real physician ages ago and relied solely on their own intellect. Iroh, himself, was a powerhouse of medical knowledge. His years on the battlefield always proved to be invaluable.

The Dragon of the West gestured for Zuko to lean back. The exile complied, but winced as he performed the action. He dared himself to look down and catch his first glimpse of his injury; but, after one hasty glance, he had to force bile back down his throat. The skin on his stomach was peeling back and black flesh ripped at the tiniest movements while red blisters burst, showering the remnants of his skin with a thick, protective ooze.

"This is going to sting," Iroh whispered softly. He had a heavy cream on his fingers and Zuko watched his uncle's digits as they neared his wound.

"AH!" the prince screamed, his fingers winding into his bedsheets in his attempt to alleviate his pain. He grunted like an animal while his uncle smeared the salve on his stomach. And, after a thick coating was applied to his marred flesh, Iroh turned and produced a wad of coiled gauze from the kit. He wrapped his nephew's stomach, tightening the bandage in the correct spots as he worked. Around and around the coil went until only a small section of it remained.

Iroh tugged the loose end into Zuko's wrappings and taped a good section of it for good measure.

"We're going to need to change your dressings before the night is through," the ex-General sighed. "Why don't you lay back and get some rest?"

"Rest?" the exile snarled, glaring at his doting fatherly figure. "I don't need rest!" He threw his arms in the air and immediately regretted his decision. While grimacing, he placed his arms against either side of his body and calmed down. His eyes rested on the steel wall to his right and he glared at it. "How did he win, Uncle? I…I don't understand. I had him."

"I know you did." Iroh's muddied eyes were filled with sorrow as he regarded his injured charge.

"And still, I lost!"

"Zuko," the older man lightly touched his nephew's arm. "You did the best that you could."

"My crew!" the exile screamed. "He wants us gone by tomorrow! What are we going to do?"

"We'll find a way."

Zuko's golden irises flicked to his uncle before resting on Koori's nest. "And…" He stared at the menagerie of blankets and his eyes started to water until he angrily blinked back the tears. "And Koori! He's going to kill her."

"Don't say that." Iroh shook his head and looked away.

"He saw the techniques I used, Uncle. And he knew who taught me those moves. She's probably being tortured right now!" Kicking the empty air, Zuko let out a frustrated growl. "How could I have been so stupid? I shouldn't have used the techniques she showed me." He grabbed his head and rocked forward. "She's dead…I know it."

"No, Zuko," the Dragon of the West whispered. "I don't think he's going to kill her."

"How can you be sure? You saw how he grabbed her. He was angry with her. And it's all because of me!"

Enraged, the exile shifted his torso and punched the wall beside him. Fire erupted out of his fist and scorched the steel. Resettling, he stared at the mark, his eyes welling up once more.

"Zuko," Iroh huffed, trying to catch the royal youth's attention. "Zuko, look at me."

The exile didn't turn, so Iroh shifted his position on his nephew's bed so he could be closer to his distressed charge. He pressed his hands against the boy's arm and squeezed, letting him know that he was there if Zuko needed him.

"I don't think that he's going to kill her. She may receive some sort of punishment, yes." The banished teen winced and rubbed an errant tear from his eye. "But I don't that he'd do anything that would cause lasting damage."

"How can you so sure?"

Taking a deep breath, Iroh squeezed his nephew's arm once more. "She knows how to read."

Zuko lurched forward and glared at his uncle. What did her knowing how to read mean? Who cared if she could read! "What?"

"She knows how to read," the ex-General repeated.

"I heard that," the prince snapped. "Who cares? What does that matter?"

Sighing, Iroh released Zuko's shoulder. "It means that he's invested in her."

The banished teenager looked lost and confused as his gaze settled on his uncle. "W-what…what do you mean by that?"

"Well, Zhao's kept her alive for thirteen years, Zuko. He's had plenty of opportunities to kill her. You said that she tried to escape twenty-eight other times, correct?"

"Yeah. That's what his Lieutenant said."

"She's run away that many times," Iroh confirmed, "and yet, she's still alive."

"So?"

The Dragon of the West sighed, perturbed with his young nephew's inability to see the big picture. "At some point in her life, he taught her an activity that takes a lot of time to explain and practice. And I have no doubt that he taught her how to read early on, so she could spend any free time that she had studying."

"So?"

"Zuko, he's invested in her. He's put a lot of time and patience into her upbringing."

"Knowing how to read won't save her life, Uncle."

Iroh sighed once more and shook his head. "As I've said before, though: he's had plenty of other opportunities to kill her. Especially since this isn't the first time that she's been away from him. Besides all that," he said, his eyes flicking down to Zuko's gauze-covered chest, "you were very clear that you took her. If she's as smart as I think she is, when Zhao questions her about her three days with us, she'll lie and say that you took her against her will."

"She doesn't have to lie about that. Technically, I did."

"Yes, I suppose that's true."

Zuko gazed at his uncle, his eyes filled with a silent desperation. "Do you really think she'll be okay?"

"I…I can't guarantee anything. But I would bet money on her being alive."

"How's she going to explain everything else, though?"

"Zuko, I'm sure that she'll figure it out." Iroh squeezed his nephew's arm one last time before releasing it. He patted his thighs and quickly stood. "Now, I need to check on Jee and the rest of our crew. Do you think you can try to get some rest?"

Scowling, the teenager folded his arms across his chest and winced. After realizing that most of his pain was subsiding from the healing salve, he let his arms remain where they were. "I make no promises," he said.

"Well—" The ex-General turned and he focused on the slave's bedding. Cleaning up the mess would probably ease Zuko's conscience, so he knelt on the ground. "—I'll just clean this up," he muttered, shifting a few blankets around.

"Leave it," the exile whispered, his voice child-like.

"Zuko—"

"Leave it." The words passed Zuko's lips as an enraged snarl. He didn't mean to come across so vicious, but he wanted Koori's nest left alone.

With a sorrow-filled nod, Iroh stood from the floor and folded his arms in his sleeves. "Get some rest," he urged as he left, shutting the door with a sharp snap.

Finally alone, Zuko inhaled and let his tears fall freely. How could things have turned so suddenly?

He had spent hours—no, days—practicing with Koori. And she was absolutely confident that she wasn't going to be a slave after the duel had concluded. Yet, here he was, sitting alone in his room, his stomach horribly maimed beyond recognition. And, somewhere in the next ship, Koori was with Zhao, acting as his personal slave once more. He had let her down.

Not caring about his pain, Zuko lurched forward and sat on the edge of his bed before maneuvering his way to the floor. He sat on the cold steel and wiggled over to the slave's nest. Hands shaking, the prince dug through the menagerie of fabric, tossing blankets aside while snarling. When he got to the bottommost blanket, he paused, his eyes catching a familiar pendant and piece of folded parchment.

Koori must have kept those objects hidden for safekeeping.

Tearfully, he gazed at the piece of jewelry before reaching forward and grasping it. He rolled the bone between his fingers, rubbing the etchings with the coarse pad of his thumb. Did she know that the last time saw these items would be her absolute last? Did she even hold the pendant before she left? Did she take one final glance at the portrait of her and her parents in order to memorize features that had long been forgotten?

Unfolding the parchment, Zuko stared at the jovial family, envying their happiness. At one point in Koori's miserable life, she had the world; she had her parents' loving arms, a happy home, and the chance to live a good life. And, even though he never said so out loud, when he took her from Zhao's quarters, he wanted her to have those things once more. He knew that nobody could take the place of her parents or the home that they would have given her, but he had been fully convinced that she would have stayed with him and his crew. At least, until she knew where she wanted to go or what she wanted to do. He had been prepared to give her a temporary home; someplace safe to eat, sleep, and practice her bending.

But now, she didn't have anything. She was back with her owner; her pendant and portrait left behind. Did she miss the items in his hands?

"Slaves don't own property."

Her words buzzed through his head, which prompted him to squeeze his eyes tightly closed.

Opening his golden eyes once more, he remembered how she passed him when the Agni Kai was concluded. She never made eye contact; she just stared at his stomach, her white face taking in every single blister and piece of ripped apart flesh, before she walked behind Zhao.

And even though his uncle suggested that the Admiral wouldn't hurt her severely, Zuko very much doubted that would be the case. Did Iroh seriously not see the way the monster looked at her when she cowered behind him? How could he have missed the merciless expression on Zhao's face?

Zuko leaned forward and put his head in his hands, rocking back and forth as he imagined the slave being tortured. He shouldn't have used her techniques. They were a dead giveaway that she had a hand in helping him prepare for his Agni Kai. How could he have been so stupid?

He started hitting his head on either side, each self-harming burst making him feel subtly better as his fists found his skull. When he couldn't take his rancid thoughts anymore, he collapsed on the floor, his bare back pressed tightly against the cold steel. The metal floor may have been chilly, but he didn't deserve to inhale and bring fire into his lungs so he could heat his body. No, he didn't deserve warmth, at all.

Eyes opening wide, he sat upright before smashing his torso back down, punching each fist to either side.

My crew.

Closing his eyes, he tried to calm down. He let his arms fall to either side of his waist, fingertips extended skyward as he thought about losing his crew.

Before the day was through, Zhao expected the Fire Nation men to report directly to him before issuing their appropriate reassignments. What would happen to them once the Admiral had them under his cruel thumb? Did the monster have some sort of twisted mission for them? Would they be sent to the front lines during the invasion? Or would they find themselves confronted with a more twisted future?

If something did end up happening to them while they traveled north, it would all be Zuko's fault. Losing his Agni Kai sealed their fates and he couldn't do anything more for them.

And even though he never connected with his misfit crew, they had served him without complaint throughout the first three years of his banishment. The only one who ever harped on him was Jee; however, the Lieutenant stopped chastising him after he saved his helmsman from plummeting to his death after that unusual lightning strike to his conning tower.

Zuko sighed, his breath raging out in a haggard burst as he thought about his ship's highest ranking officer. Jee was a man who would always tell you what he thought, no matter who was around. It was a quality that wasn't really appreciated throughout the Fire Nation, but it was something that Zuko found endearing. Though he wouldn't say so out loud, Jee's opinion was always appreciated, even when it wasn't necessarily welcome.

Iroh had chosen him specifically on their voyage, without giving Zuko a reason why. And now that he was confronted with the realization that the grey-haired, easy-to-anger man would soon leave his vessel after three years of faithful servitude, he felt strangely conflicted and unnerved. Jee's room was three doors down, past a dry storage room and his uncle's cabin. He was so close, yet the banished teen never really had a decent conversation with him without it ending in a screaming match. He didn't know anything about the officer. Did he have a family? Children, a wife, a glorified animal to welcome him home?

Finding it hard to concentrate with his bare back pressed against the cold steel, Zuko relented to his nagging desire to be warm and inhaled, drawing a deep breath into the pit of his stomach. Though he still didn't feel like he deserved warmth, heat instantly poured from his center and stretched throughout his limbs, only ending when his fingers and toes were appropriately warmed.

He sighed, and a sharp rap on his door broke his inner-emotional turmoil.

Struggling to his feet, he rummaged under his bed and tossed the slave's possessions into his box of keepsakes. He snapped the box closed and wrenched the door open, a surprised look gracing his face when he saw who was on the other side.

Iroh stood outside his nephew's door for a moment, trying his hardest to hear noises from the opposite side. Hearing nothing, the Dragon of the West shuffled down the hall, only stopping when he saw Jee's door ajar. He peered inside and saw that the Lieutenant was sitting on his bed, his head in his hands, presumably contemplating the outcome of the Agni Kai he had just witnessed.

"Jee," Iroh's voice rasped, breaking the tense silence.

Instantly, Jee looked up and his hands fell between his knees. "How is he?"

Lips pulling across his face in a sad smile, Iroh said, "He'll be just fine. Though," he paused and silently asked if he could sit on Jee's bed. The Lieutenant nodded, a stern frown lining his face. "Though, he isn't concerned with his own injuries, he's more worried about the fate of his crew and…her."

"He's a good kid," Jee supplied, staring at the ex-General.

"Thank you for that," Iroh sighed. "I know that these past three years haven't been easy for you."

"You and I both know that they've been some of the easiest ones, Sir."

"Yes, I suppose you're correct."

Each man slipped into a contemplative silence. It was a long time before either of them spoke, but when Jee did, the sconces on the walls flickered.

"What Zhao did," Jee snarled, fists clenching, "was deplorable."

"Very much so," Iroh agreed. "But, it got him the outcome he wanted." The ex-General looked at the open doorway, knowing that a few doors away, his nephew was still fuming over his loss. "Zhao managed to strip everything that Zuko managed to earn away from him in a few short days. Utilizing Koori, he was able to lure Zuko into his cabin so he could steal her, thus destroying his credibility when confronted. Zuko may have been able to convince those officers that his acts were somehow justifiable if he won the Agni Kai." Iroh blinked and shook his head, remembering the sound of his nephew's scream as Zhao's flame tore into his stomach. "But, he lost, which now makes him look like a petty thief."

"Which means that nobody will help him now, doesn't it?" Jee asked, his hardened gaze meeting Iroh's.

"I have a few favors that I may be able to call in. Though, I would completely understand if my favors don't match up to my request."

"Who are you talking about? Anybody I may know?"

Iroh shook his head. "The favor that I need to call in is rather large. And there's only one person in this harbor that I can think of. Admiral Akira—"

"No!"

"—may be able to help us. Thankfully, he still outranks Zhao."

"You can't be serious. Please tell me that you're joking."

"Unfortunately, Akira is the only person with the resources we need."

Jee stuttered. "But…but he's," he inhaled deeply and rubbed his face. "But he's Zhao's father."

"I know, but his relationship with his son is rocky. Perhaps he will listen to our plight."

Suddenly scrambling to his feet, Jee glared at the man he usually listened to without question. "What could that beast possibly owe you?"

Iroh looked torn. He wanted to tell the topknot-less Lieutenant the information that he knew, but he recognized that it wasn't appropriate. Zhao and his father had a few secrets that bound them together. The ex-General knew of one, and it was a rather large secret that had only been divulged to him out of desperation; it circled around a hazel-eyed, brown-haired woman: Zhao's mother.

"It doesn't matter," the Dragon of the West huffed. "I only hope that it's enough."

"And if he refuses?"

Grimacing, Iroh's head tilted down. "Then there's nothing else I can do for him."

Jee chuckled sadly and rubbed his hand through his loose, grey hair. "What has become of this world?" he questioned aloud, not caring if Iroh responded. "How can we live in a world where we can justify maiming or killing children in pursuit of our own ambitions? Power," he spat, "has become a terrible burden on our youth."

Iroh nodded and stood from the bed. He ambled to the doorway, his face filled with reserved sorrow. "I'm going to give my best to the crew," he whispered, turning around at the threshold of Jee's room. "I know that my nephew doesn't wish to be disturbed, but I think he would appreciate a few parting words before you leave."

Nodding silently, Jee watched the esteemed ex-General walk down the hall and disappear into the darkness. He instantly turned on his heel and marched the few feet to Zuko's quarters. Fist pausing midair, he contemplated leaving without saying goodbye, but Iroh had made a point to mention that the exile would appreciate his words. After hardening his determination, he knocked and waited for a minute before the door squeaked open.

In the opening, Zuko stood, surprise filling the unburnt features of his face. Jee looked down at the boy's stomach, which was covered with a pristine bandage, blending in with his pale skin.

"What?" Zuko snapped angrily. At his own tone, he flinched and his face fell, knowing that his temper was being misdirected.

Jee immediately understood why Iroh had asked him to say goodbye. Standing in the threshold of his own doorway, Zuko looked weak and depressed, like somebody had taken everything away from him. And, with his present condition, somebody certainly had. The Lieutenant stepped forward, opening the door wider as he entered the young prince's quarters, unwelcome.

His hard eyes instantly flicked down to the mess in the middle of Zuko's floor. Koori's nest—which he knew had been meticulously organized by the slave—was in disarray. In his turmoil, the exile had destroyed it and left everything askew. Jee allowed himself a moment to bask in the sadness of the nest's existence; only a few short hours ago, Koori had been occupying it. She had been safe and nurtured during her stay and the Lieutenant had quickly lost count of how many smiles graced her face. And now, wherever she was, he very much doubted that she was smiling.

"We need to talk," Jee whispered, sitting on the teenager's bed, turning his head away from the slave's bedding.

Zuko took a few hesitant steps toward his bed and sat beside the officer. He focused all of his attention on the menagerie of sheets and blankets on his floor. He knew that he should thank the Lieutenant for his service, but he couldn't bring himself to say the words out loud. Pride kept his mouth closed and he felt like an asshole.

"I—" Zuko started.

"Thank you," Jee interrupted, looking at the banished boy on his right side. "Thank you for the opportunities that you've given me."

Confused, the banished teen's golden eyes matched the hardened gaze of his Lieutenant's. "I didn't…I didn't do anything," he admitted.

"No, Prince Zuko," Jee huffed, scratching the side of his neck. "You did…everything."

Zuko's voice was small. "What?"

"What you did for that girl today," the scraggly-haired man said, "it was the noblest thing I've ever seen."

"It doesn't matter," the prince snapped. "I lost. She's gone."

Jee's sad eyes glanced to the boy who seemed to be caving in on himself. Pressure was bearing down on the youth's shoulders and the officer wondered how much stress the boy could take. "You gave her hope, something that I'm sure she hasn't experienced in years."

"And it was taken from her the moment I lost."

"Prince Zuko," Jee blinked and his salt-and-peppered eyebrows furrowed together, "any right-minded human being will see what you did and congratulate you for even attempting the task you tried to take on. What you did for her, what you risked for her, was incredibly selfless and respectable. And I'm proud to say that I'm parting from you, honored to have served under you."

"But…But…you fought me. The whole time," Zuko whined.

"It's my nature," the Lieutenant said with a shrug. "Did…uh…did your uncle ever talk to you…about me?"

Rapidly, the banished teenager shook his head. What did Jee mean?

"That explains a lot," Jee smiled. Zuko stared at him; he had never, ever seen the man's face contort into something that wasn't a frown. "Your uncle is a good man; a very, very good, honorable, and noble man. And he loves you more than you could ever understand. You know this, right?"

"Y-yeah."

"Good. Remember it, okay?" Zuko's head tilted down, remembering all of the times in his past when he had gotten irritable with his elderly family member.

Jee inhaled, filling his lungs with cold air as he regained his frown. A piece of him knew that the young man beside him needed to hear an important part of his life in order to pull him out of his self-inflicted depression. "I first met your uncle at Ba Sing Se. I didn't serve under him directly, but I had the lucky opportunity to gaze at the Fire Nation's most glorified strategist and his son, Prince Lu Ten, as they passed me in the mess tent on a few occasions."

Zuko listened to the Lieutenant's story, enraptured with the details. His uncle never really talked about Ba Sing Se. And the prince was smart enough to leave the subject alone. Talking about the siege was the equivalent of talking about Lu Ten, and both the prince and his uncle were unable to approach that topic without feeling sad.

"Well," Jee continued, "most of the days blended together. And when I woke up one morning, I was expecting it to be just like the rest. However," he sighed and leaned forward, resting his elbows against his knees, hands held aloft, "the world works in mysterious ways.

"That morning, when the sun rose above the great outer wall, we managed to break through and take the agrarian section of the Impenetrable City by storm. Every soldier imaginable raced inside, eager to pillage the agricultural land. We were instructed to salvage as much as we could and burn the rest. The idea was to starve the city, which was an easy enough strategy to follow.

"We ransacked the outermost section for three full days, taking fresh fruits and vegetables whenever we saw fit. And after we distributed the goods to the rest of our forces outside the wall, we emboldened our hold on the occupants: the farmers."

Jee's fingers twitched in the space between his knees. "They were poor; the weakest citizens that Ba Sing Se had to offer. The men were frail, offered little resistance, and ultimately, didn't fight back. The women were worse, not caring as we encroached upon their homes; and the children…" he winced and let his sentence trail off. "Altogether, they had nothing to their names. Their clothes were sodden or torn, mismatched patches covered only the most necessary areas and you could clearly see their ribs through their thin tunics.

"It seemed surreal to me that these people were surrounded by so much food; yet, they didn't take advantage of the resources around them. And, after looking back on it, I understand everything much more clearly.

"You see, those Earth Kingdom people had nothing, literally nothing. They were growing all of that food for the upper ranks, for the people beyond yet another wall."

Zuko watched the Lieutenant, envisioning the starving people. The first poor people he thought about were the refugees that Zhao had burned alive a few days ago and his heart ached for the citizen's in Jee's story.

"We were ordered to dispose of the resistance. So, we lined up all the men, women, and children, and didn't even give them the chance to give up, even though their military forces had long since surrendered. And we…" he sighed and changed his wording, uncomfortable.

"Your uncle had been told that he wouldn't encounter any sort of retaliation from the locals, so he charged into the city. And what he saw…" Jee trailed off yet again and closed his eyes.

"It was war. Death was common. But General Iroh hadn't been anticipating crossing into Ba Sing Se with a raging inferno of bodies on his right-hand side."

Zuko's face paled. "What?"

Jee's face remained stoic and he looked at his hands. "Under my command, I had every single man, woman, and child set ablaze. They were Earth Kingdom civilians and I was taught that they didn't mean anything. Their death was a victory for the Fire Nation. It was…it was just one less earthbender to fight."

Gagging, the prince distanced himself from his Lieutenant. Why was the man telling him this?

"General Iroh was furious with me and my superiors. He called it an unnecessary loss, a shameful abuse of power. And I was furious with him. I called him out, admonishing him for his weak-hearted and narrow-minded attitude. I only thought of one thing: how could the great and respected Crown Prince of the Fire Nation feel such compassion for the swine-bred people of his enemy? They were just farmers; weak and poor farmers at that. Their deaths meant nothing.

"A few of my superiors came to my aid, but your uncle was able to use his influence to silence them.

"Rightfully, he singled me out and humiliated me for my remarks and my actions. And as I returned to my tent, seething, he paid me a private visit in the middle of the night to explain. I don't…I don't remember the words verbatim, but the message was clear enough: showing extreme hatred toward your enemies doesn't benefit anyone; it merely affects your judgement and eats away at who you are.

"I still didn't understand him and chastised him once more, asking him why he tolerated the existence of those people. They didn't serve a purpose for us and we'd eventually have to imprison them, which meant that we'd have to feed and house them during our invasion. Keeping them alive only extended their meager existence and burdened our people, so why even bother.

"After listening to my pitiful excuses, he claimed that my judgement was skewed and that I wasn't fit to lead anymore. He had me stripped of my topknot and title and sent home."

Jee sighed and clenched his fists. "I was expecting to return home a hero, but General Iroh had me blacklisted from joining any other armed forces and I stepped onto the shore as a failure, all of my hard work taken from me."

"Why are you telling me this?" Zuko asked, his eyes narrowing at the horrid man beside him. How could he have ever taken advice from this man? Why did his uncle bring him along on their mission?

"Because I think that how I felt that day is how you feel now. And I want to let you know that things get better. It just takes time."

"How much time did it take for you?"

Jee remained silent for a second, contemplating his answer. "It took a few days for me face my wife. But, eventually, I confronted her and told her everything. She was horrified at first, rightfully so since I didn't skimp on any details, but she said that we would be able to pull through.

"With her help, and with the words of the great Dragon of the West ringing through my ears, I pulled myself onto my feet and immediately set to work righting all of the wrongs in my life. Wanting a fresh start, we relocated to the Colonies and began a new life.

"After a few years of hard work, I rebuilt my reputation as a good and honest man. My view on life had changed dramatically. You see, in the Colonies, Earth Kingdomers and Fire Nationers work together. Most people have interbred, uniting the two nations with the presence of their offspring. A sense of community was strong and it was something that I was proud of.

"I hated the Earth Kingdom for so long, yet it was something that I grew to adore over the period of a few years."

Zuko snorted. "If you were so happy there, why did you bother joining me?"

Jee grimaced. "My wife died."

The prince's eyes widened and he looked away. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"A rogue earthbender killed her while she was grocery shopping. He stole the meager coppers she had on her person and left her there, alone."

Unsure how to respond, Zuko remained silent.

"I could feel myself slipping into despair again, something that I promised her I wouldn't do. So, I returned to the Fire Nation, disgusted with the person I was becoming once more. When I got to shore, your banishment was all that everybody was talking about. So I presented myself in front of your uncle and volunteered to accompany you on your mission.

"In all honesty, I needed a distraction. Your uncle was delighted to see me and even happier with my offer since he was struggling to find a crew. But I just wanted to get away…and I used your pain for my own benefit."

"What was the point of all this?" Zuko snarled, perturbed with the man sitting on his bed.

"I'm proud of you, Prince Zuko," Jee admitted, giving the boy a half-smile. "And after you capture the Avatar and ascend the throne, I'll be honored to call you my Fire Lord."

Stunned, the exile clutched the sheets under him, wrinkling them through his fingers. He didn't know what to say.

"Everything that you've done—all of the decisions that you've made—they've all shown what kind of a person you are. And it's the kind of person you need to continue being. Yes, Zhao may have bested you and taken away your crew and his slave, but I know that you won't fall into a pit of despair. You have your uncle for guidance. Listen to him…he only has your best interests in his sleeves."

Jee stood from the bed and brushed imaginary dirt off his armored shoulder. "I have to go," he said, nodding his head toward the door. "It's been an honor to serve you." He bowed, one vertical hand beside his fist—the traditional and respectable way to greet and depart a superior in the Fire Nation. "I wish you the best of luck, Prince Zuko."

At that, he left the exile alone in his room and scurried down the hall, grabbing his knapsack from his own quarters before meeting up with the rest of the prince's crew on deck.

Zuko scooted to the end of his bed and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms above his chest while he contemplated Jee's words. A wave of anger came over him. Even though Jee expressed disappointment in his past actions, the prince could only think of how the Lieutenant set a group of unresisting people ablaze. How could his uncle accept that man's servitude?

Mixed emotions ran through the exile. Though he was angry, he was grateful for Jee's compliments. A little piece of his spirit rocketed to the surface and he looked at the scorch mark on the wall beside him. He leaned back and stared at the stain, his eyes focusing on it lazily until it fizzled out of sight.

"The ruffians I hired will start their work in a few hours. And since we have some time to kill—" Zhao said with a smile, pulling her toward him once more. He pressed his lips against hers, savoring the taste of her. "—why don't you show me how much you missed me?"

Knowing that she needed to play into Zhao's advances in order to save Prince Zuko, Koori pulled herself into her Master's lap and rested her bottom against his thighs. Her fingers gently touched his chest, fingertips subtly grazing the exposed flesh as her hand trailed up to his pec. He smirked at the affection and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close against him. Her right inner thigh brushed against his outer left, which sent a jarring jolt of pain up the remainder of his leg. Ignoring his discomfort, he urged her to lean against him so he could feel the entirety of her body on him.

Oh, how he missed the feeling of her weight on his frame.

The slave's hand continued to travel up Zhao's pec, shoulder, and neck before resting behind his head. She wound her fingers through his hair, tugging loose strands gently and playfully as she leaned down and pressed her lips against his.

Feeling her soft lips awakened Zhao's primal hunger. He wanted more than sweet kisses; he wanted to hear her moan. He needed to hear her scream his name as she climaxed on his lap. Even though he desired all of those things, he wanted to take his time and savor each moment. After three excruciating days apart, he could only imagine how much she thirsted for his tender warmth. Did she dream of him while she was away? Did she wake up in the middle of the night and search for him in the dark, her fingers grasping the empty air around her before realizing that he wasn't nearby? Did she miss him—truly miss him?

Her fingers were still gently tugging his hair, sensually digging her nails into his skull as she emboldened her kiss. To the Admiral, her kiss was more than a taste, it felt like a longing need, like it was something that she desperately missed over the past three days.

Zhao quickly understood that she wanted him as desperately as he wanted her. And he grabbed for her shirt and ripped it above her head, yanking it out of his way as fast as humanly possible. Craving the sight of her deliciously alabaster skin, he wrenched her sarashi out of his way and tossed it to the side of the room, not caring where it landed.

She was still sitting on his lap, wearing nothing but a pair of loose-fitting pants. He wanted her bare—he wanted every single article of clothing off her desirable body. So he grasped either side of her torso and…

He paused, his fingertips grazing against her marred skin. Even though his hands were calloused from years of hard training, he could still feel the distinction. Koori's flesh was soft, smooth, and plump to the touch; it was something that he adored about her. Her natural softness was a direct contrast to his usual hardness and he always found himself fondling her gently, relishing the feeling of her skin against his. It always felt natural—like the spirits had always intended the world to be that way. And now, now that his hands were plastered against her waist, his fingers brushing the ends of the burn on her back—his handprint—he could feel tiny pools of abnormally smooth, yet roughened flesh, evidence of her tattered skin. Searching, he rubbed one full hand against her back and he recoiled, disgusted.

She wasn't pure anymore; she wasn't his anymore.

Their tongues had been dancing, wriggling in each other's mouths as Koori's searching fingers gripped his shoulders, bringing them closer and closer together until there was no space left. He could feel her chest pressed tight against him, her breasts squishing against his pecs, her hard nipples roughly stroking his skin as the friction between them increased.

All of that would have usually set the Admiral's sexual instincts ablaze; he would have torn his young slave to shreds in his desperation for her tight and tender insides. Yet, when his hands touched the swath of destroyed skin on her back, he broke his kiss and shoved her off his lap, tossing her to his left side so she would land safely on the sofa next to him.

He glared at her, unhappy, revolted, and unfulfilled.

Scrambling to her knees, the slave knelt beside her owner, her face a mixture of pleading confusion. "Is…is something wrong? Did I do something to upset you?" she asked in a whisper, eyebrows pulling up as she leaned forward.

Zhao turned away; he couldn't look at her. But it wasn't her fault. No, he had been the one to burn her back during his plan. In his haste to kill Prince Zuko, he had utilized the Dragon's Sickness tea—something he knew could have disastrous consequences if overused—and he had stolen her ability from her. He then burned her back, reveled while she screamed, and watched the exile run out of the room when her skin didn't miraculously start rebuilding itself. It was his own fault that he was disgusted.

"No," he grumbled, still looking away. He needed to come up with a good excuse since he couldn't admit that he was upset with his slave's distorted flesh. "You smell like them," he said, wrinkling his nose at her.

"I…smell like them?" Koori brought her forearm to her nose and sniffed. She couldn't smell anything other than the scent of fire and sweat, which was her usual musk at the end of every night, after Zhao was finished with her, of course.

"Yeah," he grunted, standing from the sofa and rubbing his hands across the back of his head. He needed his fingers to feel a different sensation. But even after swiping through his hair, he could still feel the foreign impression of her burn against his fingertips. "You smell disgusting."

Resting her arms across her chest to cover up her breasts, she looked at her owner, embarrassed and ashamed. This wasn't turning out how she expected. She thought that she would play into Zhao's affections and rebuild his trust through her desperate desire to fuck him senseless. But he was revolted by her scent, instead.

"I could…" She bit her bottom lip and nibbled on it for a second, trying to elicit a hungry snarl from her Master. He always liked it when she drew her bottom lip into her mouth and gently sucked on the pink flesh. Getting no response, she breathily replied, "I could shower. Would that help?"

Caught, Zhao shook his head. A shower wouldn't help her burn. "No."

"Oh. Well, I could—"

"Don't," the Admiral said, shaking his head once more. "Nothing you could do would purge the abhorrent smell from your skin. You're disgusting."

Hugging herself, Koori looked away and pulled her shirt off the floor. She pulled the tunic to her chest to cover her nudity. "I'm sorry," she whimpered, tearing up. Though she seemed absolutely mortified with Zhao's rejection, she was actually very confused. He had never turned her down before, and if he continued to refuse her, she wouldn't be able to prey on her Master's advances and help Zuko. A sad expression covered her face as she tried to think. What was wrong with him?

"I—" Zhao glanced at his slave and winced. She looked absolutely torn by his sudden rejection and a little piece of him felt guilty. "I have reassignments to make," he grumbled, shaking his head.

"I'll get dressed, then," the slave sighed, tugging the shirt above her head.

"What? Why?" He had already forgotten about her plan. Honestly, he had been a bit distracted.

"The swords?" she said, her tone questioning.

"Oh, yes. Those." The Admiral considered her offer from a few moments ago. If she still couldn't heal the wound on her back, he doubted that her healing ability had actually returned. After all, she hadn't been able to utilize her skill last time and her skin healed without an issue. And, with those thoughts clouding his head, all he could envision was Zuko's ship exploding and his slave covered in a myriad of repulsive splotches after she got stuck in the blast. "I don't want you to get them anymore."

Koori's mouth opened and her protest came out as a snarl. "What? Why not?"

"I just…don't," Zhao growled, glaring at the girl on his sofa. He needed another excuse to cover up the real reason why he didn't want her to board that boat. "Your little show was convincing, sweetheart, but you're going to have to do better than that to convince me that you and the traitor weren't preparing for my Agni Kai…together."

"It was not a show!" she screamed, balling her fists tightly. She barred her teeth and shook her head while closing her eyes. She focused on the sconces on either side of the room, willing them to explode with her fake rage. If Zhao wasn't going to take her outside, her plan would fail, and she needed to be convincing. "I hate him! Why can't you see that?"

"You hardly know him," he argued, eyeing the black marks on his walls where the sconces exploded. "You can't hate somebody you barely know."

"I don't need to know him to hate him," Koori snorted. "He's a traitor—a disgrace to the Fire Nation. And he stole me in the middle of the night. Against my will!"

"I don't want you to go on that boat," Zhao admitted. His hazel eyes bore into her golden irises.

"Well," she huffed, throwing her hands in the air. "What if I didn't want to get those swords for you?"

"Excuse me?"

"What if I wanted them for me?" the slave grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. "I want the swords that pressed against my throat at Pohuai. I want them above your bed—above our bed—when we sleep at night. I want to look at them and know that all of this," she gestured to her back and Zhao grimaced, "was worth it. I…I want him dead, Master. And I want to look at those stupid swords every single day and be reminded that my owner took out one of the greatest threats to our nation."

Stunned and blinking, Zhao looked at her, his eyes widening as she glared up at him.

"I hate him," she spat. "And he deserves to be blown apart."

Leaning down, he flicked her forehead and she recoiled, shaking her head as her fingers brushed the spot he touched. "Don't you ever glare at me," he said, eyes narrowing at her.

"I…I'm sorry."

The Admiral retreated to his bedroom, leaving his slave behind. He needed his armor and he rapidly found his undershirt before he started buckling pieces of metal to his skin. Koori seemed genuinely angry, and he couldn't help but wonder if she was being truthful about her desire to have those swords.

Still thinking, he looked down at his red-clad mattress. She called it 'our' bed, he thought, subtly pleased with her wording. It was his bed, through and through, but when that particular word tumbled through her enraged lips, he didn't correct her. There was something satisfying about her lumping them together.

Boots pounding, he stepped out of his bedroom and looked at his slave. She was slumped against the arm of the sofa, her face pressed into the black leather, clearly humiliated. If those pathetic swords meant so much to her, perhaps—if she convinced him that her healing ability had returned—he could let her go.

"Show me," Zhao demanded, trudging to her. "Show me that your ability is back and I'll reconsider."

Eyebrows shifting together, Koori looked at her owner. She needed to draw out as much fire as she could, but she was still incredibly weakened from her display at the Agni Kai. Pulling her hands in front of her face, she concentrated, delving deep into her abdomen to coax her white flames out. The presence of her white fire would save Prince Zuko. She just needed to focus, and Zhao would let her onto that boat, convinced that she wanted those swords for her own gain. All she wanted to do was help the boy who tried to save her, so she took a deep breath and opened her eyes, willing the flames to burst out of her hand. Responding to her desperation, white fire poured out of her fingertips and confidently burned in the air.

Satisfied, the Admiral nodded. "Go shower," he ordered. "And burn those vile clothes."

Freshly showered and donning a well-fitting outfit from Zhao's closet, Koori stood beside her Master, her entire body covered in a thick cloak.

He shoved a piece of parchment into her palm and she opened it, straining to read the small scrawl.

"We're going to be separated," Zhao explained. "And I don't have enough time to let a few officers know that you'll be outside my quarters, unattended. This will protect you. Consider it a sort of permission slip."

Folding the paper and placing it into the pocket of her tunic, the slave nodded. "Where will you be?"

"I have to meet Zuko's crew," he reminded her.

Biting her lip, she looked at him, her gaze desperate. "You aren't going to hurt them, are you? Lieutenant Jee was extremely accommodating. He even tried to convince the prince to return me."

"Really?"

"Mm-hm."

"I'll consider that during my evaluation."

Koori smirked. Maybe she could save a few people tonight.

After opening the door, Zhao gestured for his slave to exit before locking the only entrance to his quarters. They turned and continued into the dark corridor. Occasionally, the slave would press her arm against his, nudging him gently as they walked. The action was unusual, but the Admiral welcomed it and continued to dwell on it. Did her three day absence make her realize how much she appreciated him?

Returning her gentle nudge with a careful push, Zhao continued to exit the conning tower of his warship. Breath fogging in front of their faces, Master and slave walked down across the massive deck and down the extended gangplank.

"This is where we part ways," Zhao muttered, giving her a sideways glance. "When you have those swords, you're to go directly to that tent." He pointed and she followed his finger, nodding at him. "Wait for his crew to depart and then go inside. No lingering. In and out, understood?"

"Yes, Master."

With a grunt and a nod, Zhao broke away from his slave and ambled up the small hill, toward Commander Li Shu's battle tent, where Zuko's crew was expected to report before the night was through. At the canvas flap, he turned and squinted into the distance. He could vaguely see the outline of his slave as she darted into the shadows. Nobody would be able to recognize her in the darkness, and he sincerely hoped that she would find solace in her mission.

Looking up at the vessel one final time, Jee cupped his hand around his mouth and shouted, "Good luck!" before he hastily shuffled away, the rest of Zuko's crew at his heels.

Boots crunching against the frozen ground, he shuffled forward, his stride decreasing as he thought about the banished teen he had served for three years. He sincerely hoped that ex-General Iroh's favor pulled through, even if it meant he had to face the monstrous Admiral's equally—if not more terrifying—father.

The other crew members walked ahead and Jee signaled that he'd meet up with them shortly. He just wanted to take his time and think things through. After the rest of the crew disappeared into the darkness, the Lieutenant turned and took another hopeful glance at Zuko's boat. He had called that ship his home for three long years and it was hard to suddenly pack all of his belongings and depart.

With a sigh, he started to turn his head. But, mid-movement, he saw a shadow dart across the frozen ground, cloak billowing as it hurriedly ascended the gangplank. The strange figure turned and ducked once on deck, its head peering from right to left to make sure that it was unwatched. Standing so far away, Jee wasn't surprised to be unseen.

Intrigued, he stepped toward the boat and stopped, knowing that he needed to get to Zhao as soon as possible. He had already let the other men get so far ahead.

Instead of following the rest of the crew, he squinted into the darkness and tried to see the cloaked figure a little more clearly. Though, he didn't need to strain his eyes the moment the stranger pulled its hood down, pulling a fistful of black hair out of the cloak before she entered the conning tower.

Koori, Jee thought, eyes widening. What was she doing?

He couldn't risk trudging back on deck and he could only hope that the slave's actions were well-intentioned. So, he turned on his heel in the muddy soil and started down the path, toward Commander Li Shu's battle tent.

The crew had departed and Iroh hesitantly walked up the stairs, intent on distracting his young nephew. If Zuko was still fumbling around with the ramifications of his loss, the Dragon of the West knew that a short walk outside would clear his head.

Ambling to the closed door, he knocked and opened it, hinges squealing as he pushed. "The crew wanted me to wish you safe travels," he said, testing his nephew's attitude. If Zuko responded angrily, he would leave the young man alone. If he responded with even the slightest tinge of regret, he would ask for his company.

Arms across his chest and staring at the singe-stained wall to his right, Zuko didn't even look at his concerned uncle. "Good riddance to those traitors," he bitterly responded.

Confused by Zuko's sudden change in demeanor, Iroh stepped into the room, his face a mask of concern. "It's a lovely night for a walk," he pressed. "Why don't you join me? If would clear your head and we could talk about our plans for tomorrow."

Zuko winced, but remained unwaveringly silent.

Iroh sighed and shook his head. "Or you could just stay in your room and sit in the dark." His muddled eyes glanced at the haphazard mess that used to be the slave's nest. Zuko had destroyed it, apparently. "Whatever makes you happy…"

The door snapped closed and the ex-General sadly turned away before shuffling down the hall. What had Jee said to him to sour his attitude? He thought that the Lieutenant would have issued words of encouragement. Had the man antagonized the young prince, instead?

Distracted, he continued down the hall and down the steel stairs, unaware that a young girl had pressed herself tight against a far wall in order to remain unseen while he passed her. Iroh disembarked and continued walking into the encampment, determined to find Admiral Akira's warship.

Koori's golden eyes watched Zuko's crew stroll down the gangplank, knapsacks filled with their possessions slung across their backs. She inhaled, waiting for them to get further away so she could clamber aboard and rush to the young prince's aid. When they were far enough away, she bolted from her hiding spot and sprinted on deck. She paused at the top and looked around; peering left, right, in front, and behind, in order to confirm that she was unseen. Seeing nobody around, she took off her hood and pulled her hair behind her back, letting the long locks flow freely behind her head.

Taking a deep breath, she walked inside the tower and hesitated at the staircase, suddenly realizing that she was so close to reaching her goal. After a few more moments of walking, the slave and prince would be reunited and she would lure him out of his ship. And, after he was sitting safely on the shore, she was determined to heal his wound and purge his stomach of its damaged flesh.

The sound of footsteps broke her thoughts and she panicked, knowing that she needed to remain elusive. Could another one of Zuko's crew members be departing? Without knowing who the intruder was, Koori shoved herself against a far wall, pushing herself into the shadows as much as humanly possible, face turned away, as the stranger passed.

After the unidentified man was down the stairs, the slave's rubber-soled shoes padded down the hall and up a few staircases. She paused at the top of one and looked to either side, making sure that the coast was clear. While she was stopped, she heard the sound of a metal squeal and her eyes glanced down, head peering over the side of the staircase's railing.

Somebody was down below.

Ignoring the distraction, the slave took a deep breath and entered the maze-like halls of Zuko's ship. A few more turns and she would find herself in the young man's bedroom.

As she walked, she heard another pair of footsteps and pressed herself against another wall. How many people were still on board?

Peering around each corner, she saw Zuko, his back to her as he stalked his halls. Instantly, she bolted from her hiding place and ran to him, reaching out as her feet pounded against the steel.

Zuko turned, knowing that somebody was behind him. He didn't take a moment to recognize that it could be somebody who wanted to help him. No, he turned and wailed the intruder against the wall, pressing his forearm against its chest to pin it in place.

"Z-Zuko!" the figure gasped, flinging its arms around his shoulders to draw him into a desperate embrace.

The prince recoiled before realizing who it was.

Koori's golden eyes were blinking at him, tears welling in them as she tried to pull the banished teen closer.

"You're okay!" she exclaimed, releasing him.

"K-Koori?" Zuko stuttered, not believing his eyesight. The slave was dead, she had to be; yet, here she was, trying her hardest to hug him. He withdrew his forearm from her chest and blinked, still unconvinced that she was real. "W-what are you…how are you…?" He was searching for the correct words. "What are you doing here?"

"We need to go." She looked at him, her golden irises settling on his covered stomach. "We need to get out of here."

She grabbed his hand and started to drag him down the hall, but Zuko planted his feet and she struggled to pull him. Turning to chastise him, Koori found herself pulled into the prince's arms. He wrapped his hands around her back and pulled her close.

"You're alive," he whispered, clutching her.

Momentarily stunned, she let the prince hug her before she shoved him off. "We need to go," she repeated. "He's going to blow up the ship."

"What?" the prince snarled, grabbing her wrist. "Who? Who's going to—" He paused and heard another metallic squeal echoing through the hall. "Zhao?"

"Y-yeah." Her eyes flicked to her wrist, silently pleading for him to let go. He didn't and instead glared down the darkened corridor, trying to locate the source of the noise. "Prince Zuko," she said, looking at him with sorrow-filled eyes, "I…I need something from you before we leave."

Zuko's head snapped down to stare at the slave. "What?"

"Your swords."

His lone eyebrow crept down and he looked confused. "My swords?"

"It was the only way I could convince him to let me go." Two pairs of golden eyes met, silent words passing through them.

"They're in the helm," the exile whispered. "I hid them there after he saw them in my room."

"We need to get them quickly," she huffed, rubbing her free hand through her hair. "I don't know much time we actually have."

Urgently, Zuko's hand placement shifted from her wrist to holding her hand and he started running down the hall, pulling the slave behind him. When they made it up the last set of stairs, the prince rummaged through a closet and withdrew the coveted item. He held it tightly by the strap before handing his prized broadswords to the golden-eyed girl.

They were heavier than she expected and she flung the strap around her frame, securing the broadswords across her back for safekeeping.

"I can't believe that you're alive," he mumbled, staring at her, still convinced that he was dreaming.

"What? Why wouldn't I be alive?"

"Because he seemed angry; angry because I used the techniques you taught me. He knew that those were your moves."

Koori looked at the boy in front of her. He was so concerned with her wellbeing that he was delaying their departure. "We can talk later, maybe. Right now, we need to get off this boat."

A slow rumble burst from the ship's innards and the slave stumbled into Zuko's extended arms. He wrapped his arms around her waist, steadying her against himself as the ship continued to quake.

"Wha—"

An inferno erupted from the doorway of the helm and crashed its fiery tendrils around the room, setting everything ablaze. Koori barely had enough time to extend her arms upward, tossing a thick, protective orb around them while the room burned.

Another blast resounded throughout the room and Zuko held her tighter as the force of the explosion sent them skyrocketing out the window. Glass smashed, sharp shards dug into the prince's skin as he held onto the slave, protecting her from getting cut. Her face was pressed tight against his chest, eyes scrunched together as she tried to force her will on the uncontrollable crimson coils around them.

The world ended the moment both teens hit the icy ocean. The impact forced the prince to release the slave and he flailed in the dark, murky water. He opened both eyes, straining to see her shadowed form somewhere nearby, but his vision was clouded with the sight of metal debris around him—pieces of his blown apart ship that were staggering back and forth in the ocean's currant.

Unable to hold his breath for much longer, he kicked, hoping that the direction he chose would lead him to the surface. Once he broke the watery barrier, he inhaled, desperately filling his lungs with much-needed oxygen before filling his mouth and plunging below the surface once more. He needed to find her; he couldn't leave her behind after she had done so much.

For once in his life, luck was on his side and he found her floating lifelessly between two massive chunks of sinking metal—the remnants of the ship's boiler. He swam to her body, pulling hunks of destroyed material out of his way, as he neared her. Reaching out, he grabbed her tunic and started tugging her behind him while he broke the surface of the water once more. Gasping, he touched her face and realized that she was unconscious. He needed to get to shore, and he needed to get there fast.

Clutching onto her with one arm, he guided them to the nearest portion of land he could see. Luckily, it was also a secluded and forested area, somewhere where he could pull himself from the water without being noticed.

When his waterlogged shoes scraped against the sandy bottom of the ocean, he hauled the slave in front of him and carried her onto the dry land, only stopping when he was inside the forested barrier. Gently, he pulled the swords from her back, tossed them to the snowy ground and set her down beside them. He knelt overtop her unmoving body, knowing that she was half-drowned during the explosion. Poising his lips above her own, he inhaled, ready to decrease the distance between them in order to breathe life into her lungs.

Before he could get too close, the girl coughed and water poured from her mouth as she batted the air around her, clocking Zuko across his head in her random outburst. He stumbled backward, panting with nervous anticipation as she sat upright, still choking on the water in her throat. Good-heartedly, the prince leaned forward, patted her back, and ran his hand between her shoulders in order to soothe her.

After all of the water was coughed out, Koori looked at the teenager who had settled himself behind her.

"Z-Zuko!" she exclaimed, golden eyes glossing over the medley of burns, cuts, and scrapes on his face and body. "Your face! Your neck!"

The slave slammed into him with more force than she anticipated. She knelt over him and immediately started wheezing as she tried to awaken her white flames. Shoved to the ground, Zuko groaned and reached for his injuries, suddenly feeling them now that his adrenaline was slipping away. Soft, girlish fingers touched his face and he pulled back, snarling.

"No. Don't."

"I can't help with the bruises and the cuts, but I can heal those burns. So lean back and let me work."

Reluctantly, Zuko remained still as white fire burst from her fingertips. He instantly thought about how much the flames would hurt, but when they were pressed against his skin, they were cool and offered nothing but a soothing and gentle warmth. It felt like a little heartbeat inside his skin, and the slave's fingers grazed against his neck and chin, spreading her pulse throughout his body. He felt the fire piece together his skin, tendrils of flesh knitting together until the burns disappeared altogether.

"Take off your shirt."

It wasn't a request, and the prince struggled to comply. His tunic was plastered against his flesh and the water made everything hard to maneuver. Shaking, nervous fingers didn't help.

Somewhat calmer, Koori leaned forward and hastily tugged the tunic away. She saw his bandages and immediately set to work, carefully burning them away with well-timed singes. When the prince's burn—the one Zhao had given him—was exposed, the slave inhaled and focused on the destroyed skin.

Zuko could still feel the subtle heartbeat in her fire as she worked. This time, however, instead of just feeling it, he could watch. With both hands splayed out across his marred skin, Koori bit her bottom lip and focused on knitting lines of fresh flesh back together. A bead of ocean water exited her hair and fell past her eye, nose, and chin, before spiraling off her face and hitting her hand. Unfazed by the distraction, she continued mending, not satisfied until there was nothing but beautiful, pearly skin in her wake.

"K-Koori," the prince shivered, finally feeling the snow under his body. "It's good. You can stop. It's good."

"ZUKO!"

Zuko lurched forward, hearing his name. Somewhere, his uncle was calling for him and he needed to let the man know that he was okay.

"Uncle," he whispered. "UNC—!"

Koori jammed her hand over his mouth, silencing him. "You're supposed to be dead," she shushed.

"Buth ir nuth," he grumbled between her fingers. Hesitantly, she released him. "But I'm not," he repeated.

"Yeah," she confirmed, nodding her head. "And if you want to keep it that way, you need to pretend to be dead. If Master finds out that you're alive, he won't hesitate to try again."

"Oh," Zuko snarled, "trust me, he won't have the opportunity once I'm through with him. I'm gonna kill him."

"No, you're not." She refocused on his stomach, unsatisfied with her work. Lighting her hands once more, she continued to press her palms against his skin. "If he sees you, he'll know what I've done, and he'll kill me before he sets his sights on you."

Footsteps broke apart their conversation and Koori extinguished her flame and pressed herself tightly to the ground, over the prince. Were soldiers scouring the woods for survivors? If so, she needed to cover the teenage boy; he was the target of the explosion, after all.

A small, red flame flickered in the air before a familiar face popped out.

"K-Koori?" Iroh questioned, his muddled eyes resting on her face. "W-what are you d—?" He looked down and his expression lit up. "Zuko!"

"Shush!" the slave insisted, pulling her index finger to her lips. "You need to be quiet."

Kneeling on the frozen, snow-covered earth, the Dragon of the West gestured for the slave to move so he could embrace his presumably-deceased nephew. When the hug was concluded, Koori resumed her work on Zuko's stomach, stitching together the last of his scar.

"What happened?" Iroh whispered, staring at the white flames healing the young prince's belly.

"Zhao tried to kill me," Zuko snarled.

"But…at the Agni Kai, he let you go."

"It was a ruse," Koori mumbled, still focusing on Zuko's stomach. "He didn't want to be known as a prince-killer so he hired a group of pirates to assassinate Prince Zuko in the middle of the night."

"And you ran away to help my nephew?"

Satisfied with the prince's unmarred stomach, the slave shook her head. "Not exactly," she huffed. "I managed to convince him that my time on your ship was less than pleasant. I told him that I hated you." She looked at the young teenager as he sat upright, placing his hand on his newly-healed skin. "I told him that I wanted the swords of the Blue Spirit so he could look at them and know that he killed a traitor and a threat to our nation." Zuko winced. "So he let me go, pleased with the idea of a trophy for his work."

Iroh picked up the swords, forgotten on the forest floor. "Smart girl," he muttered, complimenting her.

Koori blushed at the General's words before refocusing on the injured boy in front of her. "A-are you okay? Can you feel anything else?" she asked, nudging the prince's side.

"I think I'm good," Zuko admitted, scanning his body for more fire-related wounds.

"Good," she sighed. "I…I need to get back. I should have been back by now."

Shivering, she stood and reached out for the strap to the swords. Iroh handed the blades to her, a small smile gracing his face. She tossed the strap around her body and started walking away. Turning, she looked at them, her expression pained. "You both need to leave," she whispered. "Remember, he thinks that you're dead and you need to keep it that way."

"Yes," Iroh nodded. "Thank you."

She had expected Zuko to answer or give some sort of reply, but he remained silent, stewing over her words. Turning once more, Koori continued walking away.

"Thank you."

The slave paused, hearing the prince's voice. Her head tilted down and she closed her eyes. "You're welcome."

Unable to stay in the forest any longer, she entered into a sprint and found herself on the edge of the encampment. Shuffling hastily, Koori kept her eyes on the uneven ground, unaware that a yellow-eyed figure was quickly approaching.

Seeing feet, the slave paused.

"Look at this delectable little fish," the yellow-eyed Admiral said, a devious smile plastered on his face.

Golden and yellow irises locked. "I…I'm not a fish."

"Well, you're all wet. And it's dangerously cold outside." His eyes narrowed. "Why don't you come with me?"

"N-no. I…I need to get back to my Master."

"Really?" Akira asked, amused. "And where is he, anyway?" He looked around and smirked. "You aren't running away again, are you?"

"I…I didn't run away," the slave sighed. "I was taken." She dug in her pockets, searching for the slip Zhao gave her. "I…" Her fingers located the soaked parchment and she pulled out the dripping wad. "I have permission."

She held the paper in front of her and Akira laughed at the sodden mess. His eyes flicked to the glinting hilt strapped to the girl's back and he stared, intrigued. "How about this, Koori," he said, licking his lips as he said her name, "I'll take you to Zhao after we have a little chat."

A/N: Here were go! Just for shits and gigs since you guys don't really need this. Because you're awesome. :)

Well, obviously, Zuko is disappointed. His brain is filled with turmoil - his thoughts plagued with the fates of his crew and the slave he tried to help. And, when his uncle's words offer little to no encouragement, another figure comes to his aid. JEE! Whoop whoop! He's a dude we know literally nothing about. I know...I checked.

Well, after some deep consideration, I decided to make Jee's backstory a little darker than originally intended. You see, originally, he was going to refuse a direct order to burn the Earth Kingdom citizens, but after thinking about it for a while, I was like, nah...I want him to be more dynamic than that. So, in his backstory, he's rightfully the "bad guy." He killed a lot of people and Iroh flat-out called him out and stole his topknot. He sent him home to think about his actions and Jee did exactly as Iroh instructed: he started to appreciate the Earth Kingdomers after spending a great deal of time among them.

However, no story ends with happy endings all around. His wife is killed, which reawakens his angry spark. So he returns to the Fire Nation, determined to find a distraction. And, low and behold! Zuko's face gets burned off and he gets banished. And Iroh, unable to find a decent crew, accepts the help of a man he once shamed. There's a section of this story that's missing, and it's something that Zuko pointed out, actually: why did Iroh let Jee accompany him if he knew his backstory? Well, that's a question to be answered later. It didn't really fit for that moment, so I purposefully left it out. I'm sure though, that somebody already knows the reason why. (wink wink, nudge nudge)

Time to talk about the scene dedicated to raidersfan777. Here we go, dude! Brace yourself.

I know that it wasn't exactly what you wanted. I know that you wanted something hot and steamy, but doing that didn't make a lick of sense. BUT, that scene is incredibly important. You see, in the last chapter, we saw a very content Zhao. Technically, he got just about everything he wanted. He won his duel, his enemy was about to be obliterated, and he had his slave back in his possession. I literally gave him his favorite flavor of ice cream on a golden spoon, which kinda pissed me off! He's a dick and his methods went above and beyond the usual villain scale of badness. And, as xXbloodybiteXx pointed out, Zhao is disgusted by the look Zan and all her marred flesh - Earth Kingdom racism aside. So, very obviously, he needed to be completely revolted by the feeling of her destroyed skin when he was roaming her body.

Though, it's kinda funny when he blames his revulsion on her smell. Completely unrealistic, dude. Jeez.

So, Admiral Jerkface, was it worth it? Was your plan worth maiming your favorite possession? Nobody gets what they want, Zhao. Nobody is safe...not even you and your lying nose.

However, in this chapter, somebody gets what they want: Koori, actually. For once.

After a semi-heartfelt reunion wherein Zuko thinks he's dreaming, the slave and prince talk for a little while until they're blown up. But, Koori uses her healing ability to save the prince and heal every single burn on his body.

And now, after knowing that Zuko is safe and well (for the most part), she leaves him in his uncle's care, urging him to stay away from Zhao. And then she leaves, stepping right into Akira's path.

In the next chapter, we're about to see something unusual happen between the yellow-eyed Admiral and the slave. It's going to be a little hard to read, but I promise you, it'll be worth it. And no, guys...he's not going to rape her. No, he's going to tell her a little story. And, if you review, I'll tell you who it's going to be about. :)

Now comes the hard part. I'm sorry, guys, but I don't think that I can keep up with weekly updates. Frankly, my adult responsibilities are falling short. It takes me quite a few hours to type these chapters out, and honestly, I've been really liking the lengthier ones because they make me really think about things. I know, I know, I can defiantly do this while keeping the chapters short, but I don't feel like I could get my point across.

So, I'm going to try to keep updating every Saturday, but I offer no promises. Well, I'll see ya when I see ya. Alert this story, that way you don't miss the next chapter. It'll be CraZy!