by RaidenYoukai
Genre: Romance/ Drama/ Slight Occasional Humor
Origins: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Main Character(s): Prince Zuko, OC
Disclaimer: Of course, I do not own Avatar: TLAB. Nickelodion does. Sadly. I wish I did, because then I could make the plot do what I wanted it to, but I don't so I can't. Anyways...I do own the OC, one 'Miss Ajuna', the first daughter of a noble family. This is my first romance, ever, of any series, so I have no idea how it will go. It probably doesn't help that the series hasn't been fully shown yet, so I have no idea if this completely destroys or deviates from the actual course of events. Also, the first bit may seem a bit angsty, but it gets better later, I promise. Constructive comments will be enjoyed, however flames will not be tolerated. Thank you for your time, and I wish you happy banana hunting.
Chapter 1- No-Love Dreams
Fire had singed the hanging tapestries that would usually have hung gracefully in the room, one on each side, and would sway gently with the boat's movement. Some were worse than others, crisped past recognition, what was left hanging stiffly like dried pieces of meat. Others, less touched by the flames' burning embrace, still showed their patterns, the crest of the fire nation woven across their middle in stunning black weave. His highness, the Exiled Prince Zuko, leaned back on his bed, wiping the cold sweat from his brow, trying to calm his unsteady breathing. Eyes wide with the look of someone still lingering in a nightmare, he looked about the room, surveying the damage he had done in his sleep.
Aside from the tapestries, it looked like he'd lost several books, which upon later investigation would prove to have been very useful, full of lore on the Avatar and other elemental facts; some small trinkets from his travels; a few papers with random notes he'd jotted down and...no...He sighed sadly, sinking back down to the mat, closing his eyes as if in pain. He'd seen in the corner a small staff, one used for training small children that he'd used at one time to train with his father. It had been burned to almost half of it's original size and was lying charred and blackened on the floor.
"That damned dream again..." He muttered angrily to himself. It wasn't the first time he'd woken up in an icy sweat in a room full of destruction. It was the same dream every time that portended it. The dream of the day of his banishment. The dream of his 14th birthday. The dream he'd had every night without fail since then. Zuko frowned, pressing his face into his hands as he recalled the dream.
14-year-old Zuko leapt up out of bed, smiling happily to himself. Today was his 14th birthday, the day he finally became a man. The day his father would recognize him for the warrior he was. He dressed quickly in all black and then threw his finest cape over his shoulders as he strode purposefully out the door. He headed for the throne room, pushed the ancient solid oak doors open, sank to his knee before the throne, bowed in respect, looked up with a smile and a happy cry of "Father!"...only to be overwhelmed with disappointment.
Before him sat his father, resplendent in his royal robes, sword glinting regally at his side as he looked up, cast a passing glance over his forlorn son, and turned back to the maps and charts lain out before him by yet another Admiral or General or whatever ranked soldier it might be this time. He would reach out and point to something, or scribble down some plan of attack as he asked about the results of some fight or why they didn't gain as much ground as he'd wanted...yet not a word did he say to his only son, not even on his birthday.
Zuko sighed dejectedly, rising slowly to his feet before making a hasty retreat from the throne room. He should have known that his father would never see him, never acknowledge him, not today, nor ever. He'd never be good enough, never important enough for his father. All he cared about was winning the war and fighting...That was it! The Prince's steps quickened and his walk became more focused. He was a teen who knew just where he was going and what he planned to do when he got there. If his father only cared about fighting and winning, then he'd just have to prove that he could fight and win, right? Right! And if he could defeat a master...then surely Lord Ozai would see him for the son he'd always wanted!
The 14-year-old smiled slyly to himself as he neared the castle's dojo and arena. He'd finally found a way to prove himself to his father and nothing was going to stop him now! He stopped just inside the sliding doors, looking around at the various pairs and threesomes of people training or sparing with each other, his grin widening as he found the one he was looking for. His Uncle was doing what he did best, sipping tea in the corner as Zuko approached him and the old general carefully sat his cup down as the Prince sat down across the table. "What do you want nephew?" He asked, his gruff old voice rumbling softly but with authority.
"I want to do battle." His Uncle Iroh nodded. Zuko often fought with other benders to improve his techniques. It was not so unusual a request. "With a master. An Agni Kai." Iroh choked on his tea, spraying it out his nose, covering the Prince in hot Jingsang1. Zuko twitched a bit, reaching up to wipe the tea from his face as his uncle continued to gape at him. "Prince Zuko, you may be an expert at fighting, but that's only for your level! You can't duel a master yet! You need more training. I cannot allow you to..."
"I will battle a master. High noon today. Set it up." Zuko stated firmly, cutting Iroh's remarks off with a finality that boded no argument. He rose quickly to his feet, bowing swiftly to the retired general before darting back the way he'd come, giving him no more time to argue. As much as Iroh wanted to stop this whole thing right in it's tracks, perhaps it would be better for Prince Zuko to go through with it. "It might teach him some humility..." he sighed to himself as he watched the prince's retreating form slip back through the doors to the castle. "Maybe it'll be good for him." The Great General Iroh took another sip of tea.
Hours passed in the blink of an eye, and suddenly a hot, high noon sun shone down upon the battlefield, and the confident Prince Zuko. A light warm breeze rippled across the arena, sweeping up small clouds of dust and swirling them around into mini-tornadoes. The wind grabbed at Zuko's thin ceremonial jacket, threatening to lift it from his shoulders, causing him to reach up and pin it down firmly. A frown floated briefly across his face as he wondered if he was wafting for naught and his uncle hadn't gotten anyone to come. "If he's forgotten, I swear I'll..."
"You'll what?" Zuko jumped a bit when he heard Iroh's voice at his elbow. The General was smiling benevolently, sure of what his nephew had been about to say, and finding amusement in it. "Nothing Uncle...I am just...excited about the fight." The prince stammered out, still a little unnerved that he had been snuck up upon without his noticing. "So, did you find me an opponent? And is...my father coming?" He asked, and Iroh caught a flash of frantic hope in his nephew's eyes. "Now Zuko, are you sure you want to do this? You really aren't ready-"
"Did you find me an opponent or not?" The prince demanded. Fire flared at his wrists, an outward expression of the building anxiety within him. His uncle sighed. "Yes. Captain Zhao from the 3rd front platoon will face you." Iroh's face fell. It was obvious the prince was set on doing this and nothing could change his mind now. If only he wasn't so bullheaded! Or if only his brother had paid the boy a little more attention, Iroh mused to himself as he took his place as the officiator of the fight. Zuko stiffly took his place at one end of the field, glancing back and forth from the stands, where his father would hopefully be, and the door Zhao was entering from. With a sigh of relief, he hadn't even noticed he'd been holding his breath, Zuko spotted his father taking his seat. He'd show him now, show him how worthy he was of attention.
He turned back to grin excitedly at his uncle, then took a quick step back when the far doors creaked open, revealing the massive form of Captain Zhao. The man was a giant! Huge and hulking, one would think he'd move slowly, but no! He walked as lightly as a feather on the breeze! A bead of cold sweat trickled down the side of Zuko's head. This was going to be tough. Still, he was determined to win. The strength of his opponent would only add to his winning glory.
He quickly struck a basic stance as his uncle raised his arm, in preparation for the commencing of the fight. With a rushing swoosh of air and a brilliant burst of flame, Iroh's arm arced downwards, signaling the start of the battle. Zuko sprang foreword, sucking in a great gulp of air and landed strongly on his feet, creating a strong root for power, swung his leg upwards, connected a solid flaming blow to Zhao's chest...and blanched from the spider webs of pain that lanced up his leg. It was like kicking a stone wall! What was this man made of?
Startled, he leapt back, staggering when his weight shifted onto his injured foot, gasping as it almost went out from under him. If his foot was broken then he'd already lost. Without a strong base he couldn't gather enough energy for his fire attacks. And judging by the Captain 's reaction to his kick, Zuko couldn't do a thing with just brute force. Maybe he could dodge long enough to wear the heavier man down, he thought as he ducked, just dodging a sudden burst of flame from Zhao, who was now swiftly approaching.
Settling on this plan of action, Zuko leapt away, wincing with every other step but forcing himself to keep going. Flames from Zhao's attacks licked at his heels on every step. Resisting the urge to glance backwards, the prince ran on, though the pain in his leg was growing. Finally he couldn't resist anymore and looked back over his shoulder. His sight filled with flame and he only just managed to duck below it's range. Damn! The huge man wasn't slowing at all! This was terrible! His whole plan was falling to shambles around him!
Finally deciding to stand and fight, Zuko put on a burst of speed, tears nearly spilling from his eyes from the aching throb shooting up his leg. Gaining enough ground, he skidded to a stop, wheeling about to face the Captain and assuming as strong a root as he could with his injured leg. He punched rapidly, pouring fireballs forth at Zhao, each kicking up a huge cloud of dust, blocking Zuko's view. He didn't care though. Some of the flames had to hit the giant with some effect he thought. Sensing the end was near, the prince poured forth all his energy into one final earth-slamming blow that sent a twister of fire tearing towards where Zhao supposedly was.
Finally, panting with exhaustion, Zuko straightened back up and tried to find his opponent, or what was left of him, through the smoke and dust. Seeing nothing, he shrugged and turned around, prepared to declare his victory to his father...and came face to face with the Captain. Gaping like a dead fish, he leapt back as Zhao swung his foot around, kicking up a wave of flame, but landed hard on his bad leg. Crumpling in pain to the ground, he could only watch in horror as the fire blazed towards him, filling his vision with red and orange all save for a small empty space centered around the angry, disappointed look on his father's face, watching uncaringly as the flames took hold of his only son's body, forever scaring him with the mark of his failure. And then, the world went dark.
Rolling over and pressing the scarred half of his face into his pillow, Zuko choked back a rare sob, forcing the cold hard complexion back onto his face. He could not cry. He hadn't since the day he'd been exiled, and he couldn't now...the few followers he had might leave him if they perceived any weakness from their leader. Still, he thought as turned sadly to face the charred remains of the staff again before relaxing back into his bed, why did I have to make that stupid challenge? I only wanted to please Father...If only he'd noticed me...noticed...me... His thoughts faded into darkness as the prince fell into another troubled sleep, riddled with the dark dreams of his defeat.
1- Jingsang/ Jinsang/ Possibly even a weird form of Ginseng...again, the spelling
Okay! That's it for chapter one...sorry the dream part was so long...I got caught up in it. I promise the other chapters will have far far less flashbacks or dream sequences. This one just needed this to get it off and running. And yes, I know it's not written the best, but that's okay, right? It's still good, right? Please please PLEASE let me know what you thought! Thank you!
P.S. I'm gonna continue it either way, so take heart, those of you who liked it!
