Disclaimer: Don't own Avatar. Don't own the lyrics, which belong to John Rzenznik from his song, "I'm Still Here."

Author's Notes: Sorry for the long wait. I was having some trouble with the end of this chapter. And the beginning, come to think of it. But, if it's any consolation, it's all about Zuko.

Content: Zuko. Lots of it.

Chapter Four
You Don't Know Me

"What do you think you'd ever say?
I won't listen, anyway--
You don't know me,
And I'll never be what you want me to be."

Zuko awoke with a pounding headache, and the damp climate he was in wasn't really helping to make him feel any better. "What happened?" he wondered aloud. His voice sounded hoarse, even to him.

"You've been taken prisoner," a bored voice answered. "Sorry that waking up in a dank, flooded dungeon isn't exactly the most welcoming scenery, but Synhard didn't want to take any chances."

Zuko groaned as his memory kicked in. Of course, while he was scouting in the forest, he had been attacked by a small group of teenagers, and they had knocked him out. Really, it was his own fault for wandering away from his group, but he couldn't help it: after all, he could have sworn that he heard voices in the distance, and he knew his group would only slow him down. In all honesty, he was hoping he could find the Avatar during the scouting mission: that way, he wouldn't be forced to burn down the forest. Burning forests, after all, was not at the top of his priorities.

Even so, none of that mattered now. After he was knocked out, he was obviously dragged to some kind of prison. Opening his eyes confirmed this: he was on a cot located in, as the voice said, a "dank, flooded dungeon". He sat up to take a better look at his surroundings.

The dungeon room was relatively large and smoothed in a way that told him it was man-made. The stone that served as floor, ceiling, and four walls was smooth and gray-blue. The cot he sat on was on a long, narrow stone elevated from the floor; there were several other similar formations in the room. Peering over the edge, he estimated that the water flooding the room was roughly two feet deep; it would reach about his mid-thigh. On the other end of the room, the stone floor formed a steep slope to what appeared to be a hallway. Sandwiched between the slope and the east wall was a stone staircase leading to the hallway. Zuko would have thought it a fitting prison for a Fire bender like himself, only there weren't any bars to stop him from going up the staircase.

"You've probably noticed that there are no iron bars to keep you here," continued the voice from before. Zuko turned towards it and found a boy his age sitting on one of the boulders jutting out from the surface of the water. The boy continued, "That's because we don't need iron bars to keep you here. You've obviously noticed all the water... and I'm a waterbender. Carlaoh and Synhard figured that would be enough to keep you here." The boy grinned, a hint of malice--and mischief--in the expression. "By the way, my name's Kaiphelan. You gonna tell me yours, or should I just call you Fireface?"

Zuko narrowed his eyes at the impudent waterbender. Who did he think he was? Besides his jailer, of course. "I am Prince Zuko, and I demand to be set free!"

But the boy just laughed. "Set free? You're kidding, right? You think that being the prince of our enemy is going to get you out? Fat chance, Princey. But don't worry, you'll be treated well enough, even if it's only because of Carlaoh's orders."

Zuko sneered. "Who's Carlaoh? Your leader? Tell me, is he as pathetic as you?"

Kaiphelan stood angrily, his fists clenched. "She is the leader of negotiations. In fact, she's out there right now, negotiating your release with your leutenant." He took a deep breath and straightened his back. "But hey, why am I telling you this? She'll talk to you herself once she gets back."

"Oh, will she?" Zuko said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yes, yes, she will," said a new voice from the hallway. Zuko turned to see the speaker and saw a girl probably only a year older than him. She was crouched at the very edge of the slope, looking down at them with a grin on her face. Besides the grin on her face, she also wore a pair of brown breeches and a green shirt with long sleeves and flare cuffs. She looked down at them with her chin resting on her palm, and her elbow on her knee. Her position caused the flared sleeve to fall lower on her forearm, but apparently, she wore another, tighter-sleeved white shirt beneath it. On her hands were a pair of black leather gloves, reflecting the color of her eyes in her light brown face.

She stood suddenly, striding towards the staircase and hurrying to the dry stone face at the bottom. Once she got there, she looked at Zuko, her expression one of curiosity. She was silent for so long that Zuko almost jumped up and demand to know the reasoning behind his capture--but then she spoke.

"You're likely wondering why you're here," she began. "The answer isn't exactly a simple one, although I'm willing to explain it until you fully understand. For starters, I did not originally desire your capture. Frankly, I still do not, but we do what we have to in order to keep our forest safe."

"Your forest?" Zuko repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes. We are its caretakers. We make sure that nothing more is taken from this forest than what is needed to survive, and part of that is to send scouts out to spy on any newcomers. If they prove harmless, we leave them alone. If not, then we do everything within our power to make them leave. You, Prince Zuko, were planning to burn down over half this forest; Scout Geryl overheard your plans. That is why we captured you."

"Then you went through all that trouble for nothing. I already gave my orders to my uncle, and he will make sure they're carried out whether I am there or not!"

"Ah, but that is where you are wrong. You see, I recently returned from your camp, where I was negotiating with the short, gray haired man. That is your uncle, correct?"

"That depends. Did he say anything about tea?"

"Yes, actually."

"Then he's my uncle."

"Good, then. Well, I told him that we had you and that you were safe, but we would not release you until your crew met with certain conditions. They must pack up all their things and ready their boat to sail off; each and every crew member must be on the boat, the only exception being your uncle, who may stay on the shore to make certain that I go through with my part of the deal. If all the conditions are met, you will be returned to your uncle, and once the both of you are on your ship, you must leave. If you return, you will be attacked on sight."

"And my uncle agreed to all this?"

"I told him that if he did not cooperate, you would be harmed." She glanced away, her expression thoughtful. "He's a nice man, your uncle. I hope you appreciate him as much as he deserves."

"I demand you release me at once!" Zuko snarled.

She turned back to him, a cocky grin on her face. "Honey, you're not my prince. Why should I follow your orders?" She chuckled quietly, ignoring Zuko's angry glare. "Oh, don't worry. We aren't going to harm you, not if we can help it, and I promise that we will return you to your ship at dawn. In the mean time, how about I give you a tour of this place?"

Zuko narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Why?"

"Why not? As you can see, this place can only hold you with a waterbender, and there's no way I'm keeping Kaiphelan down here. We don't keep prison cells, we don't keep prisoners; we only keep guests. The decision, however, is yours--are you willing to cooperate and refrain from harming anyone or trying to escape, or would you rather stay down here and grow mold?"

Zuko considered this for a short while before nodding. "Very well. I agree with your terms."

Carlaoh smiled. "Excellent. Kaiphelan, you're off the hook. Prince, follow me."

Zuko stood and walked carefully on the slippery stones and up the steps, following Carlaoh close behind. He gazed down the hallway, then turned as the girl continued down the corridor, talking incessantly. He followed her, apparently obediant, but inside he began wondering if he could work this change of atmosphere to his advantage. It's not like there was anything this glove-wearing teenager could say to make him change his mind.

Author's Notes: Semi-cliff-hanger. Just because I'm evil. Please flame me.