•Slowly becoming more and more emotional throughout this part• Wow. I just want to say thanks to all of you who reviewed. This is the most reviews I've ever gotten for one story...I mean, it just means so much to me...man, now I'm gonna cry, and I'll never be able to get through this...just go and read the story, okay? Just go! •Runs off to sob somewhere•
Again, thanks to everyone who helped with the grammar and stuff...I was never very good at that...heh, so thanks again! •Hands out cookies•
Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own Avatar: TLAB. Nickelodeon does. Sadly. St-blah blah blah blah blah yada yada yada yada and so on and so forth etc. etc. Constructive comments will still be enjoyed, however flames will still not be tolerated. Thank you for your time, and please please PLEASE I'm BEGGING you, R&R!
Also, it seems I can't make asterisks show up anymore, so I've substituted the little '•' thingies where needed until it works again.
Chapter 3- Sketches of a Past Time Part 1
Prince Zuko scowled to himself as he flung yet another burned book over his shoulder. It landed on the side of a steadily growing pile of similar books and slid down, knocking a few others loose on it's way. The books were of all different colors, sized, bindings, subjects, their only common quality being that each and everyone was singed beyond repair. Some were no more than the book's spine and a few centimeters of pages, while some had only burned just enough as to be unreadable. A treasure trove of knowledge had been lost in the blaze brought about from Zuko's recurring nightmares. Knowledge was power when used in the right hands, and now no one would ever know what could have been learned from those blackened books. The prince growled unhappily to himself as he flung the last few ruined tomes onto the pile. Angry with himself he lashed out, aiming a kick at the nearest book. It flew into the air and burst apart, its fire-weakened bindings no match for the prince's furious assault. Small bits of pages and ash rained down, covering another patch of the room in fine dark soot.
"Great. Now I'll have to wash off the floors too." He growled to himself as he began to pile the ruined books into a wooden crate. Cleaning wasn't a favorite pastime of his, but he would have to do it himself. Zuko didn't want the servants to begin to wonder about why there was so much late-night destruction. If they did, they might ask his uncle about it, and he didn't want to have to play patient to his uncle's 'therapy sessions' again. Therapy sessions. He almost laughed to himself. Why in all the nations Iroh would think himself a psychologist was beyond him. The man couldn't go two sentences without jumping subjects or asking for more tea. And when he did manage to remain coherently on one topic, he would usually draw completely incorrect conclusions, which would then complicate matters to the point where Zuko would often just get up and leave while wondering to himself whether he was the one with the problems or if his uncle was. True, the man was a brilliant warrior and a skilled bender with Zuko's respect, but a therapist he most certainly was not. Still grinning in a slightly morbid way to himself, he quickly swept the ashes under a nearby mat on the floor, effectively hiding it for the time being.
He went back to the bookshelf and as he placed the last book, one titled 'Advanced Firebending Arts Made Easy', into the crate he sighed a little and sagged briefly against it. Advanced Firebending...easy? He laughed quietly to himself. His uncle had finally conceded to teaching him the advanced arts, and after only one day's worth of them he truly felt that he could fall into his first dreamless sleep in a very long time. The techniques had been beyond even what he'd been expecting. Zuko fully felt as if he'd been run into the ground by a herd of rampaging Komodo Rhinos. His rolled-up bed called to him from across the room, through the open door of his closet. All he had to do was pull it out and he could sleep, that was all he had t- He shook himself out of whatever illusions his lack of sleep had flung him into. He couldn't sleep without first cleaning up a bit, so in case his uncle came in to wake him again it would look as if the servants really had been in to clean.
Yawning tiredly he got back up, yanking the box up with him, hefting it onto one shoulder as he headed slowly out the door. He'd find some unused things to replace his own and leave the box there he decided as he wandered a little ways down the corridor and turned the handle to one of the unoccupied rooms. Dust swirled up around him as he entered, no one had been in there for quite a while it seemed. A tiny twinge at the back of his throat from the dust started a chain reaction that, though it was small, would change Zuko's life forever. ((A/N: Yes yes yes, I know it's clichéd, but I had to do it, okay?)) The twinge soon turned to an itch, and then a full out scratching feeling until finally he couldn't stand it anymore and gave in to the growing urge to cough. Unfortunately, he hadn't counted on the power and velocity of his coughs, or that every time he'd stopped and tried to breathe in, more dust would get into his lungs and cause the process to start up all over again. The violent coughs accidentally shook the box from it's perch on his shoulder, sending it crashing to the ground at the base of a bookcase, in fact the very one Zuko had been looking for.
With only a few books on it's shelves, barely enough to replace half of what the prince had lost, it was light, and the chains that had held it to the wall for almost as long as the ship had existed had grown weak from lack of care and attention. When the heavy crate landed at its base, the final bit of metal holding it up snapped, and the shelves pitched forward, dumping their contents onto the floor. Zuko took an alarmed step back, still wheezing from all the dust, and winced as the heavy shelves slammed down to the floor, missing him by mere inches. He stood there stunned for a moment, staring at the bookcase that had nearly killed him, watching warily as the huge plumes of swirling dust it had kicked up finally began to dissipate. Then, giving himself a little shake, set about gathering things back up. True, it would be hard to explain a crash like that, but if no one has been in to repair or clean things this room for so long, then I doubt anyone will really wonder as to why it fell over. He reassured himself as he pushed the last few of his own books into a shadowy corner and quickly yanked the tapestries down from the wall. He rolled them up and carefully stacked them near the door and turned back to the fallen shelves, stepping gently around it while picking up a few books to take back and replace his burned ones.
I mean, it is no great surprise that something this old would- He froze, looking over a small book he'd been about to toss over his shoulder in disregard. It was bound in old brown leather, and frayed near the edges from what once must have been near constant use. It was inconspicuous, and most people would have overlooked it, but something had made Zuko stop and look a bit closer. Beneath the layers of dust he thought he could make something out. He extended a hand to wipe at the dust, but before he could manage it, he heard the echoing steps of a group of people, most likely his uncle leading a group to investigate the crash, approaching from down the hall.
He quickly tossed the little book into the crate along with several others and leapt to his feet, his previous exhaustion long forgotten amidst the chaos of the recent events. He ran to the door and outside, shooting down the hallway and into his room. He dropped the box and tapestries and turned back to the door, gently shutting it behind him just as Iroh and -Zuko had been right- several soldiers rounded the corner. He quickly turned back to the task at hand, grabbing books by threes and fours and stuffing them onto his shelves, attempting to make it looks like they'd been there for a while by swiping the dust from their spines as he aligned them to his satisfaction.
The sound of people talking and moving around in the room just down the hall and then some getting closer sent Zuko into and even greater frenzy. He whirled around the room, scooping the hangings up and swiftly hooking them onto the nails from the old burned ones, smacking at the dust on each as he ran by. Hearing the footsteps getting even closer, he all but sprinted back to the middle of the room, and seeing the box he'd brought the books in was empty save for the little leather book, he grabbed it, sliding the tiny book into one of his pockets as he made for his closet and tossed the crate in, slamming the door just as two knocks ran out sharply from the hall.
"W-what do you want?" He just managed to get out as he flung himself into a cross-legged sitting position before his desk and lit the candles there with a sharp intake of breath. He forced a calm look onto his face as he glanced towards the door in time to see his uncle enter, a concerned look on the older man's face. He blinked once before turning back to stare at the candles' flames, hoping he didn't appear too out of sorts.
"Prince Zuko, I heard a crash from this direction." his uncle stated calmly. "I brought a group with me to investigate it. It seems somehow one of the bookcases in one of the empty rooms nearby broke free of the wall and fell over. Did you by chance see anything?" he asked as he peered around the room before turning back to face his nephew, a dark shape against the light of the candles, sitting in his usual meditation position.
"Yes, I heard a crash a little while ago. I assumed it was just someone training up on the deck. I was meditating at the time and I didn't want to loose my focus and go and see what it was." he lied, the words tumbling out over each other in a fashion that made him sound more like he had just woken up than as if he'd just come out of meditation.
"Hmm..." Iroh looked around suspiciously. Zuko began to fidget slightly, tapping a finger against his knee, waiting for the accusation he knew would come but never did. "Well, I shall inform you if we discover anything." His uncle finally stated after taking a lengthy look around the room. One of the tapestries, he'd noticed, seemed strangely dusty, and several of the books had slid to one side of the shelf, collapsing under their own weight it seemed. Iroh narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Could it have been...no. Of course not. The general shook his head. So the room was a bit untidy. It wasn't so unusual a thing for a teenager's room now, was it? He nodded to himself and turned back to the door. "I see the servants returned your things. I'll have to thank them later. Good evening." He waved a farewell to Zuko as he shut the door behind him and headed off, back to his rooms the prince suspected.
Zuko let out a sigh of relief as soon as the metal door clanged shut after his uncle. Looks like they don't suspect it was me. He thought as he blew the candles out and strode over to his window, leaning on the windowsill, his body recalling just how tired he really was. Not that they really could accuse me of much. So a bookcase fell over. And even if I was there, it IS my ship. I have the right to be anywhere I want on it. He reassured himself and slid the glass pane back, letting the sweet evening air wash over him as he watched the last rays of the setting sun fad into the horizion. The cold air didn't really bother him. He was a firebender after all. He relaxed there a moment; the only sound that of the waves gently lapping at the boat's sides as they slid gracefully past the last small glacier.
Zuko smiled to himself. They were finally leaving the arctic area and after chasing the Avatar around in the snow for so long he was quite looking forward to getting back to the warmer climates he was more suited to. He'd finally be able to relax on the deck without having to worry about getting a cold or some other such thing. Just because he was warm didn't mean he wouldn't get sick, and he'd much rather be able to train and fight without having to stop and blow his nose every other moment. Sighing contentedly he turned and looked up at the sky, smiling again as he saw the first night star blink to light. He didn't wish upon it, he had tried it before and his wish had never come true, but knowing he'd spotted the first evening star still enthralled him in a way only those silly childhood fantasies could.
Zuko yawned again and leaned back inside, sliding the window shut again and heading for his closet door. He took a final glance at the sky, now littered with stars as he lit the candle just across the threshold and yawned as he entered. He shuffled tiredly over to his rolled up futon and yawned another time as he bent down to scoop it up under his arm. This time, for some reason that was inexplicable to him at the time, he actually felt like he was going to sleep well. Maybe it was all that training.. he wondered as he shut the closet behind him and unrolled the bed onto the floor.
As he was smoothing down the sheets, the small book he'd stashed in his pocket earlier tumbled out, landing with a soft thud atop his pillow, a small bit of dust wafting up and dissolving into the air as Zuko watched. He'd almost forgotten all about it. Eyes locked in place on it, he finished his preparations for bed, blowing out candles; changing his clothes and such, and sat down atop his futon, taking the old book carefully in his hands. Most of the cover was still swathed in dust, but a small patch had rubbed off on the inside of his pocket, revealing the very edge of an in lain pattern of what seemed to be gold. Something about that bit of gold seemed to strike a chord within Zuko, like the first bits of a long forgotten memory just then returning to him. Feeling his heart speed up to what felt like almost twice it's usual pace, he gently brushed the think layers of dust from the leather-bound book.
Zuko's eyes widened in surprise as the rest of the pattern on the front was revealed. Where...? I haven't seen this in ages! His thoughts were racing with excitement. The front of the book bore a large golden seal atop it's front, a stylized form of the emblem of the fire nation. This wasn't what had so shocked the prince though. Just about anything made in or by the Fire Nation had some form of that emblem, it wasn't so unusual. What had sent him reeling was the tiny little golden letter woven into the flames of the crest. Such designs were very complex, and took much time and effort to weave. Usually only the very rich or noble could afford something like this and would never leave it on a shelf to gather dust, even if it had grown old and worn. Zuko immediately knew what the book was and to whom it belonged. He couldn't help but run his hand, it's fingers quivering with excitement, along the outline of the golden letter. It was a 'Z' woven into the gold, patterned as if to depict a young child's form of writing, that not-quite-right squiggly way that all children wrote in at one time or another. The way Zuko himself had used at the time he'd been asked to sign a 'Z' for the cover of his book. The book he thought he'd lost ages ago. The book he now held in trembling hands.
On their fifth birthday, it was tradition that all the children of the Fire Nation were given an empty book, be it fancy or plain, to write in. It was theirs to fill with whatever they chose, and it was considered wrong to try and tell any child what they should have put into it. Once long ago even Prince Zuko had had such a book. He'd often written in it, filling it with his childish thoughts and desires. Most of it he had filled with such writing, though in a few places he'd added pictures, or in the case of something a bit more special, such as finding an interesting plant or some strange feathers, he'd asked the castle's artists for assistance in drawing it. As Zuko carefully opened the book, pulling gently at the pages, almost afraid to touch it for fear it would crumble at the slightest exertion on it's bindings, it was one of these such drawings that tore loose, and fluttered to the ground just in front of him. He stared at it for a moment before gently setting the book back atop his pillow and reaching out to carefully grasp the page. He lifted it to catch the light from the last candle burning just at the side of the futon and gasped, a flood of memories pouring forth at the sight of the dark charcoal lines on the paper.
It was a beautifully done work of art, obviously one worked on by one of the castle's best artists. In the center of the page there were two young children, probably seven at the very most, frozen in time. They were a boy and a girl, each balanced carefully on one foot atop a tall wooden pole which would have extended far off the bottom of the page. The girl, her long hair tied back in wavy designs, held a small ball of fire in her hands, as if she was about to toss it over to her friend. The boy had his hands up, waiting eagerly for her to pass the ball over. Obviously they were playing a traditional game of Fire-toss, a popular game among beginner fire benders. It was a sight Zuko had often seen back when he'd lived in the Fire capital. What really captured his attention about the piece was the neat, tidy writing at the bottom of the page. It read: "Prince Zuko and His Betrothed, Lady Ajuna, ages seven and six respectively."
So, that's it for part one of chapter 3! I decided to split it up because it would have been really hard to keep track of everything that had gone one in one really long chapter, so now it's split up. I'm going to get right at part two, so it should be along shortly. Again, PLEASE R&R! Thanks all!
