Hello all. Just when you thought things couldn't get worse for poor poor Zuko...enter stage left...ME!...mwahahahahahahahaha...BTW i don't own avatar...but if i did...zhao would actually be a monkey and zuko would go shirtless more often...shoot he should just streak...

Chapter 3: The Memory

A small painting, little more than a sketch with a splash of color on a scroll, portrayed a boy and a girl, brother and sister. He was 13, and she was 9. Golden eyes smiling on soft hazel ones. Years later, those golden eyes didn't smile anymore. Those hazel eyes didn't exist.

Hot tears fell on the heated wood to steam and disappear. One hand on each side of the dresser, Zuko stared at the painting, the memory fueling the grief which was in turn fueling his anger. He could still hear his mother's words.

She spoke out against your banishment. He challenged her, they fought, and she lost. He tried to scar her like he did you, but her…body…just…couldn't take the heat…the pain. Ediera is dead.

Once again, Zuko felt the pain of his own scar being formed. He imagined that pain coursing through his baby sister, and the oak dresser began to glow from the heat emitted by his hands. Forgive…The word coursed through his thoughts. No. Only one word described this act, and that was unforgivable.

The tears stopped as a plan formed in his mind. As he stood and straightened up,black handprints were left where he hadheld the dresser. There was only anger in those golden eyes.

The sun was rising through the window of his room. Aware that he hadn't slept at all through the night, Zuko shrugged lightly against the urge to lie in bed all day and changed from his war attire to something simple. He burned the remnants of the tears from his eyes and a knock came at the door.

"Come in." His voice had little to no emotion in it. A servant came in, carrying a small box.

"From your father," he heard the servant mutter before he took the box and the servant fled the room. Opening the box, Zuko found a simple band of gold, engraved with the symbol of the Fire Nation. "A crown for the prince." He hissed. After considering melting it and send it back to his father, he jammed the crown on his head and stormed out.

Several questions and a few thousand steps later, Zuko stood outside of the girl's cell. One of the guards had told him that the trio's supplies had been placed with her, and that's what he needed to get at. There were two guards outside her door, and they let him in without any trouble.

Katara started as she heard the door's lock snap back, she shrugged herself into a corner where she could observe without being observed. And frankly, she was astonished when Zuko came in. The door shut behind him, but he paid it no mind. He glanced around and she shrank back, desperate that he wouldn't see her, but apparently, he wasn't looking for her. Spotting their bag, he went to it. As he did so, he passed through the single ray of sunlight in the room, and she had to work hard not to gasp. He looked more like a prince now, instead of just sounding like one.

Zuko was dressed in a simple dark red long sleeved robe that swept the floor and opened in front. Beneath that was a simple shirt with pants to match; both were solid black, and the shirt opened at the neck, hinting at the neatly defined muscles of his chest. A crown on his head shifted colors in the light as if it were on fire. Despite the freezing temperature of the cell, Katara felt her face heat up. She hated to admit it, even to herself, but he looked good.

She watched as he knelt on one knee by the bag and began to sift through it. Resisting the urge to leap up and yell at him, she just sat there as he apparently was looking for a specific something. After a time, he sighed, nodded, and then stood. Katara sighed as well, and laid her head against the freezing metal of the wall, involuntarily shuddering.

Zuko spun around at the sudden sound and he noticed the girl in the corner, shivering. Before he had even registered it in his mind, he had gone to her, slipped off the dark red robe, and wrapped it around her, covering the stiff brown dress she'd been wearing. Her blue eyes fluttered open and their eyes met. Blue couldn't even begin to truly cover the color of her eyes. He wanted to look away, but he couldn't. Finally, he just made himself ask.

"Girl, do you want your brother with you?" She looked at him confused, before nodding. From this proximity, she could notice things about him she'd never seen before, like, even with the scar, he didn't facially look half bad. She could look into his eyes forever. And he was wearing a necklace. And…wait…Zuko was wearing a necklace? He'd never done that before. But before Katara could ask him about it, he had stood and walked out. She heard him talking to the guards. "Take her to Water boy's cell. She can stay with him. She can also keep anything she has with her, and I mean anything."

The door opened, and the guards who had been by her door helped her up. One grabbed her bag, and they walked out. One of the guards eyed the robe angrily, and Katara realized that when he had said anything, he was specifically talking about his robe. The guards would have taken it from her otherwise, but they dared not to disobey a direct order from their prince. Recognizing this, she put her arms into the sleeves of the robe and clutched it around her. The guards eyed this but said nothing. As they started to lead her away, Zuko showed up again.

He snatched the bag from the guard, placed a hand on Katara's shoulder, glared at the guards, and with a muttered, "Follow me.", Zuko led her up the stairs. No one stopped him, but she was sure that if he hadn't held onto her as he was, someone would have. He pushed her slightly ahead of him. At the top of the stairs, there was a corridor, which they followed, then a right hand turn, a door, some more stairs, this time down, and another door, this one barred. Zuko reached up and knocked twice. It opened.

They'd barely gone three steps, this time Katara behind Zuko, when someone reached out, grabbed Zuko, and wrapped his arm around Zuko's throat. "Where's my sister you half-assed, puked-up bastard?" Zuko drew a ragged breath, and upon hearing this, the prisoner tightened his grip, choking Zuko literally from his life. Katara screamed as every fire-bender now had their flame-dealing fists pointed at her brother.

"Sokka let him go." Her eyes met Sokka's through the bars and slowly, he relaxed his arm. Zuko fell away from him, one hand instinctively going to his throat as he took deep long breaths. One of the guards started to try and take the robe off of her but Zuko shouted at him. Or tried to. It came out as a whisper. "No. She keeps it."

The guard nodded and backed away. A moment later and Katara was in her brother's arms. When Sokka finally let go of her, he looked at the Prince, who had now recovered. "Why did you let us together?" Zuko looked at him earnestly, and a flicker of pain crossed his face.

"Because siblings shouldn't be separated. Be happy now that the barrier between the two of you could be crossed. A time will come when it can't."

With this parting word, Zuko turned and left. All the guards returned to normal, and Katara and Sokka began to talk of escape, more to pass the time and less because they actually planned to.

On his way out, Zuko pulled a small sealed scroll from his shirt and handed it to one of the guards. "This is to be taken to the Avatar. Open it, or have anyone else open it and I'll personally see you executed." The guard swallowed nervously and nodded before heading off.

Aang was half asleep when something hit him on the head. He opened his eyes and saw it was a scroll, sealed. Slitting through the wax with his fingernail, he opened and read it. It was signed the Blue Spirit. He smiled.

Zuko was on a hill about two miles outside the city. He'd ridden a rhino there, but no one questioned him anymore. He'd proven himself in their eyes. Now, he was about to prove himself in another's eyes. No one could see him here. He raised something to his lips and blew. There was no sound, but a mammoth beast, who was in fact miles away, heard his call.

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