Two years later...

Everything was perfect that day. The flowers in the garden had just started to bloom, though that was hardly the beauty that Zuko was focused on. Umara smiled up at him from where she was sat in front of the pond, "These things are so cute! How do you call them again?" she asked as she tossed another crumb of bread. Zuko was so hypnotized by the sight that he barely heard what she asked him.

"Zuko? Helloooo?" She waved her hand and raised her eyebrows at him.

He slowly drifted back to the present at the sound of her calling his name, "Hmm?"

Umara rolled her eyes at him, "How do you call these things in the pond? I forgot the word."

Zuko smiled at her dreamily, joining her where she sat and placing his hand over hers. "They're called turtle ducks, and you're supposed to say 'what' not 'how'." He gently corrected her, though he wish he didn't have to. He liked the way she mixed up words, but she had implored him to teach her to speak 'properly' once he convinced her to start coming to the Palace on a more regular basis.

"Turtle ducks." She smiled at him as she slowly repeated the words, her lips curling deliberately as she spoke.

Zuko's head swum as he watched her. He had no idea why she liked him so much, but he wasn't about to question it now. He gently took her face in his hand and kissed her. "You're breally/b cute."

Umara rolled her eyes, the pleasant smile lingering on her face, "what'd I do now?"

He shrugged as he flicked at her meticulously ponytailed hair. "Nothing, you just are." Zuko knew she didn't like to wear her hair up, and he had told her plenty of times that she didn't have to, but she insisted that it 'made her look more official'.

She glanced behind them and did a double take, shrinking into herself, "you're Dad is watching us again..." she whispered uncomfortably.

Zuko glanced back nonchalantly and shrugged, unphased by the intrusion. "I dunno. It's probably a good thing though, right?" He figured, worst case, his Father was just looking to see if Umara seemed 'worthy' or whatever. Which, she definitely was.

Umara made a face at him, and raised one eyebrow, "how is it a good thing? It's weird!" She complained quietly.

Zuko's stomach dropped. That was definitely one of the things he didn't want Umara knowing he thought about. He stammered trying to find something to say that would help him backpedal from the implication he just made. The smile returned to Umara's face as she watched him squirming, she giggled and playfully shoved him.

"You're weird..." her head tilted back and she squinted at the falling sun. "I should probably head back now, I don't want to walk home in the dark."

"You don't have to, I can just take you home later!" He protested.

"No," Umara leaned over and kissed him, hesitating a moment as he eyes shifted momentarily over to where his Father was standing. "I don't like the Palaquin. I'd rather walk."

"Fine..." Zuko stood up first and offered his hands to help her up, "But I don't get why you feel so weird about it. It's their job!"

"I can use my bown/b legs to get home," Umara grabbed his hands and swung herself to her feet, rolling her eyes at him on the way up. "Just like you're going to use yours to walk me out!" She teased, smiling at him impishly.

She went missing for a month after that, and Zuko sorely wished that had been the last time he saw her.

. . .

"Don't Come any closer." Umara demanded from within the shadows in front of him, her voice was shaking in a manner that resembled the sound of glass shattering. Something had to be really wrong, she'd never sounded afraid like this before. A feeling of dread began to creep over him...His Uncle had been awfully insistent that he sneak out for a walk in the woods.

" Mari," Zuko squeaked out as he felt the glass in her voice cut through his chest. "Where were you all this time? What happened?" He took a step closer to the shadows in front of him, only to hear the soft rustle of brush and leaves as she scrambled backwards. "Please stop," her voice cracked. Zuko could just barely make out her hand held up defensively in front of her, "I dont have a lot of time..."

His eyes were beginning to adjust to the darkness and he could now just about see her face. Something looked very off about her, though Zuko could hardly put his finger on it. Without thinking, he held his hand out and conjured a small flame.

"Put that out!" she screeched frantically. In the instant before she lurched forward and grabbed his wrist, Zuko saw all he needed to. Umara was covered in bruises, her eyes swollen. The clothes she had on were tattered and dirty, hardly covering her body.

"Someone hurt you," he gasped as his heart sank even further. "Please tell me what happened! Did Chey do this to you?!"

Umara placed her hands on either side of Zuko's face. "Look at me, it wasn't Chey, okay? It's not safe for me to stay here anymore. Do you understand?" She was panicked, her hands shaking against his face as she spoke. Zuko has barely begun to process what she said to him before an equally panicked voice came from the shadows behind her.

"Hurry up, kid. We gotta move."

Umara abruptly closed the distance between them and kissed him roughly. "I love you, Zuko. I'm sorry," she was crying as she let her hands slip from his face. "I'm so sorry."

Zuko awoke in a sweat, his eyes meeting the cold, metal ceiling of his quarters.

Dreaming again...

He swung his legs over the edge of bed and clasped his hands behind his neck, attempting to shake the unpleasant scene from his mind. It was nearly a two years ago since his life had fallen into ruin. He had just lost it when Umara left. Seeing her like that, all singed and beaten, had clouded his judgement. The way Zuko looked at it, whatever she had done to put herself in that situation, she should have left him out of it: there was no reason for her to come back and shake him up like that just to leave again.

Umara had dragged him down with her.

He gripped his hair and threw himself dejectedly back onto his mattress. As much as he wanted to, he didn't believe that. He'd made his own decisions as much as she had, though evidently neither of them had very good judgement. He still resented the fact that he had no idea what had happened to make her feel the need to run away. The commonly held belief was that Umara was kidnapped by her traitorous host parent when he defected, though, he had trouble believing that. He icouldn't/i let himself believe that. If she really had been kidnapped, there was a chance she could have escaped and returned home. Though, it would make sense, Umara was always resourceful. She had a way of charming her way out of trouble, as Zuko had learned by the thousandth time she'd said something entirely out of line regarding the Fire Nation. That girl could commit murder in plain sight and somehow pit herself as the victim just by blinking at someone the right way, and she was damn well aware of it. It wouldn't surprise him if she had set him up to be banished, though he couldn't stomach the idea.

Zuko jumped at the sound of his Uncle rapping on his door. "Come in." He sighed, thankful for the distraction.

Iroh peaked his head in through the door, "I didn't mean to wake you," he started, a hint of amusement in his voice, "but it's nearly noon. I asked the Captain to bring us to shore in the Earth Kingdom. There's this lovely little tea shop there—"

"Why didn't you come get me sooner?!" Zuko interrupted sharply as he scrambled around, trying to dress himself as quickly as possible.

Iroh shrugged, unphased by his nephew's outburst. "You're normally awake so early, I thought it would be best to let you get some sleep."

Zuko hurriedly pulled his shoes on, still struggling with one of them as he stumbled toward the door, "You can't just redirect the ship every time you want tea, Uncle!" He whined, planting his successfully shoed foot on the floor as he angrily shoved past him.

. . .

"You should know I am not only looking for tea on this little detour of ours, Prince Zuko," Iroh began as he placed his hands on the railing. "I've heard an old friend of mine may be working at one of the tea shops in this colony, and I believe their help may be quite beneficial to your quest to find the Avatar. However, it is imperative that you control your temper in the event that we manage to locate my friend. They can be quite jumpy around military types." he raised an eyebrow tentatively.

Zuko ground his tongue between his front teeth, watching as the shore slowly grew in the horizon. "I don't need help from one of your old Pai Sho buddies!" he snapped, eyes still fixed in front of him.

"Perhaps, but then again, the Avatar has had a hundred years to master all four elements, we made may need all the help we can get," Iroh shrugged lightly, placing a reassuring hand on his nephew's shoulder.

Zuko reluctantly met his gaze, his mouth in a tight line. Uncle was always underestimating him. He didn't need anyone's help, nor did he see the benefit of having yet another rotund philosopher around to lecture him.

"And besides," Iroh continued, ignoring the sour look on his nephews face, "I have a feeling you may be very interested in what they have to offer, provided we can convince them to come with us."

Zuko scoffed at that. The only thing he cared about in this situation was finding this person, whoever they were, as quickly as possible. He didn't have time to get distracted by yet another of his Uncle's ridiculous side quests. With every detour that they made, Zuko was reminded that he likely had very far to go before he would get his honor back, before his Father would love him again. Every day that passed felt like a stab to the heart, and he didn't want this to take any longer than it needed to. More than anything, Zuko just wanted to go home.

. . .

"So where exactly is this friend of your's?" Zuko asked impatiently as they meandered through the market.

"To be honest with you, I'm not even sure they are here, I've heard they can be a bit of a snow bird." Iroh shrugged.

Zuko squeezed the bridge of his nose in frustration, "What do you mean snow bird?" he glowered softly. Iroh didnt answer, distracted by the array of trinkets he was carefully inspecting in the stall next to them.

"Uncle!"

"Hmmm, Oh," Iroh started, still not looking up. "I've heard that they like to move during the spring and winter. To be honest, I am that enterly sure we will be able to find them."

Zuko exhaled slowly, attempting to quell the absolute tantrum he was tempted to throw, "You said they work in a tea shop?" he growled through gritted teeth, a headache beginning to roll in from the base of his skull.

Iroh's focus shifted back to his smouldering nephew. He knew he probably shouldn't be toying with Zuko's temper like this, but at least it distracted him from darker musings.

"Oh, right. From what I've heard it's a ways outside of town, near the edge of the woods..." he glanced over at Zuko, and as he had suspected, his face was growing redder with every second he spent processing what Iroh had just told him. Much to his surprise, his nephew didn't shout at him. Instead, he closed his eyes for a moment and swallowed hard.

"Uncle," he began quietly, teeth still clench together tightly "if you're friend's tea shop is outside of town, why are we here?"

Iroh shrugged, impressed at his nephew's restraint. "It is important to take time to enjoy the simple pleasures in life, Prince Zuko, even in the most dire of circumstances." His words wound slowly through the air as he spoke.

"Let's just go." Zuko sighed as he grabbed his Uncle's arm and dragged him out of town.

. . .

They followed the long path for quite a while. Hiking their way up and down the rolling landscape, Iroh lagging leisurely behind all the while.

"It's quite nice here in the spring, don't you think?" He asked jovially from where he was meandering behind him. Zuko didn't respond, turning his head back to shoot a glare at his Uncle. At a different time in his life, Zuko probably would have agreed with him. The flowers and trees had just begun to bloom, small petals floating lazily through the air and catching on blades of the tall grass that surrounded them. It was nice, but there was no time to consider the quality of the scenery around them, not while he was still an honorless disgrace.

A small structure appeared in the distance as they rounded the top of yet another hill. There was someone fussing with some sort of small bush just outside the door. Whoever lived there noticed them in the distance and swiftly dropped what they were doing to retreated back inside.

"I believe we may have found who we came here for!" Iroh exclaimed triumphantly at the sight of the fleeing figure.

Zuko glared at his Uncle with an incredulous frustration, "You're friend is an earth bender?" he asked, taking note of the green and tan clothing.

Iroh shrugged dismissively, "Not that I remember, though, it has been quite some time since we've spoken." He quipped absentmindedly.

Zuko sighed, he wasn't even going to touch that. Fortunately, Uncle Iroh usually had a deeper intention when he acted this dismissive and cryptic, so may as well just give him the benefit of the doubt, for now.

"Hello?" Iroh calles as he knocked on the door of the tiny, decrepit looking tea house. It certainly wasn't what Zuko has excepted: the whole place looked abandoned, spiderwebs covering the unwashed windows.

"We're closed!" An unnerved, young sounding voice snapped from behind the door. Whoever it was certainly didn't sound like anyone his Uncle would be friends with.

"Come on, Uncle," Zuko mumbled, slightly disappointed. "We're clearly in the wrong place."

Iroh waved his hand at him dismissively. "Come now, is that any way to greet an old friend?" He persisted warmly.

"General Iroh?" The voice squeaked skeptically, slightly less aggressive this time.

Zuko's heart sank. He knew that voice.

"Of course!" Iroh responded kindly, ignoring his nephew's state of panic. "And I've brought a friend!"

His vision started to shift out of focus as all the blood drained from his head. He knew that voice. His Uncle had just pulled off the most successful bait and switch of the century, and it was at Zuko's expense. What good could she do for them? Aside from serving as a conduit for his Uncle to humiliate him.

The shutter snapped open for just a second slamming shut once again. There was some shuffling inside before the sound of locks clicking open could be heard. "You can come in, but whoever you're with stays outside," The sounds stopped, though the door was still locked when his Uncle tried it. "Tell your friend he needs to back up!" She snapped harshly.

Those words cut through Zuko like daggers as he painfully realized what was going on.

She doesn't recognize me.

"I told you they were jumpy," Iroh shrugged, obliviously, "Now, do as she says. Unless you'd like to spend more time arguing." He raised his eyebrows pointedly.

Zuko robotically stepped aside, barely aware of what he was doing. He felt as if he'd been skewered through the chest. How could his Uncle keep something like this from him? He must have known where Umara had gone all this time, and not once had he offered even a sliver of reassurance or explanation.

The door creaked open slightly, a suspicious black eye peering at him from around the side until the door slammed behind him, lock clicking shut once again.

. . .

"So," Iroh began cordially as he took a seat at one of the dusty tables. "Tell me, how is my friend Jeong Jeong doing?"

Umara glared at him with the same intensity her eyes had had the first night he met her. "He's fine," she replied curtly. "Why are you here?"

He ignored her urgency, hoping that he may diffuse some of the tension in the room by keeping a light demeanor. "I'm surprised you're still here, I thought Jeong Jeong would have moved on by now." There was really no use in trying to calm the energy in the room. Even the most level headed person would feel uncomfortable being observed so harshly.

"He did, he told me to stay behind," she snapped. "Why are you here, Iroh?" her voice was disproportionately calm compared to the aura she was giving off.

Iroh smiled reassuringly, "Actually, I've come to ask for your help. You see, my nephew has been charged with a seeming impossible task, and I think you may be of some help to us."

Umara started at him quizzically for a moment, likely trying to work out what he had just said. "What's a neph—" her eyes widened as she took in a sharp breath. "Oh Gods!" She cried out painfully, her demeanor quickly softening. "That's not—What happened?!"

In spite of the deep sadness he felt at the sight of her face dropping, Iroh was relieved. It was reassuring to see that his brother hadn't managed to steal all of the gentleness from her. Though the change he saw in her was painful to witness nonetheless. She was always such a sweet, good natured girl: hardly the hardened, mistrustful creature he saw before him now. Ozai had done a lot he hadn't necessarily agreed with, but for him to enslave a little girl in such a way... It was even more horrific than what he had done to Zuko.

Iroh dropped his head, ashamed of the situation. "I am sorry for barging in on you like this," he began softly. "I know I am probably one of the last people you wanted to see—"

"Save it," she snapped. "Not sorry enough to have left me alone in the first place. Now tell me what happened, and why you think I'm going anywhere near a military boat—wait no," her eyes rolled up thoughtfully, "an army... ship? Ugh—"

Iroh raised his eyebrows sympathetically, "A warship?"

"Yeah!" Her face brightened for just a moment before the sternness returned. "Now, explain!"

Iroh took a patient breath. "It is quite a long story, I'm sure my nephew could explain it more clearly than I could..." he trailed off.

Umara stared at him silently. Her tongue rolling around in her mouth as she considered the implications of what he just said. Her eyes began to well up as she thought. "I don't want to see him..." her voice cracked painfully. "Just tell me what you want."

Iroh nodded sympathetically. "I understand this must be very difficult for you. To make a long story short, Zuko has been charged with the task of finding and capturing the Avatar, and I believe you may be one of the only people capable of helping him accomplish such a task," he could tell he'd piqued her interest. "I can assure you, this would not involve you in any of Ozai's affairs. He's disowned his own son, you see, and hardly wants anything to do with our endeavor. Now, I understand that this must go against what Jeong Jeong has taught you—"

Umara held her hand up, her expression growing stern. "Jeong Jeong was not very convincing. I am not a fan of this 'Avatar' person. He could have stopped all of this from happening, but instead he let his friend have special treatment to start the war. If you think that there is a new one, and that they have been hiding this whole time, well, I'd hardly be sad for him. But," she paused, her face melting back into childlike concern. "You have to answer me something," she hesitated and took a slow breath. "...Does he hate me?"

Iroh smiled widely. There she was. He was beginning to worry she too had lost sight of herself. "Is that what you are worried about?" He began gently, she wrenched away from him as he reached out to wipe a stray tear from her cheek. "I am sure that he doesn't hate you. Though I will say that may not be immediately apparent. He has been through a lot these last few years, and hardly comes across as the person you knew him as."

Umara's eyes shifted around nervously. "He's the one Jeong Jeong told me about, isn't he? That's why he doesn't think, and why he's all... like that, now."

Iroh nodded gravely, "I am afraid so."

She considered for a moment, "I'll help. I don't want to be like Roku, so, I'll do it. Now hurry up before I change my mind." She twitched her head toward the door.

With that, Iroh rose from the cushion he'd been sitting on and made his way over to the door.

. . .

She didn't even recognize me

Zuko lowered himself dejectedly against a nearby tree. He felt sick. How could his Uncle just spring something like this on him without any warning? This was the last thing he had expected, and he was even less prepared than that. He briefly considered retreating back to the ship, he was far too overwhelmed to do much else. This entire time, he'd been working to convince himself that Umara had deliberately sabotaged him. That he was angry at her. But suddenly, he just wasn't. Any contempt he'd held for her previously had dissolved the second she glared at him through the door. All that remained now was an awkward kind of embarrassment, the likes of which he hadn't felt since she ran away.

"Gods damn it!" Zuko screeched incoherently as he threw his head back against the tree and slammed his fists into the ground. He was angry, and embarrassed, and... fairly certain that he could make a run for it right now without Uncle noticing, if it weren't for the fact that his legs were suddenly made of lead.

"Zuko," his Uncle appeared in the door way motioning for him to get up. "Come."

He sat there frozen, his heart beating quickly enough to convince him that he was having a heart attack. It would be awfully convenient if he were.

"It is bad form to be disrespectful of our host, Prince Zuko." Iroh persisted.

"Right," he pulled himself shakily to his feet, tightly pinching his forehead. "I'm coming." He mumbled as he reluctantly started for the door.

. . .

The room went eerily silent as soon as Zuko entered. He managed a glance at Umara, but his eyes quickly dropped to the floor. He could feel her staring at him, which didn't help the feeling of utter dread that was trudging its way through his veins.

"What do you say I head back to the market and find you something more appropriate to wear?" Iroh offered suddenly, startling them both. "Can't have rumors spreading that we are harboring an Earth Bender, isn't that right, Prince Zuko?"

The sick feeling in Zuko's stomach intensified. He really didn't want his Uncle to leave, but his mind was too scrambled to think of a convincing enough reason to keep him there. He cleared his throat in an attempt to jumpstart his vocal chords, "Yeah," he mumbled at the floor boards. "That's right..."

With that said, Iroh left the two to their awkward standoff.

"So...I'm guessing your Uncle didn't tell you were you guys were going?" Umara was the first to finally break the silence.

"My Uncle Iroh is not a straightforward man." Zuko fell back on formality in a desperate attempt to avoid making the situation anymore uncomfortable than it already was. It didn't work. The room slipped back into the same horrifically awkward silence as before.

Umara craned her neck downward in an attempt to look at his face, a sudden wave of panic coming over him as he turned his left side away from her.

"You look so different now, I didn't recognize you before." She prodded softly, seemingly unphased by the situation.

"Yeah, I noticed." Zuko mumbeled, briefly shifting his eyes up from the floor to scowl at her.

Umara raised her eyebrows at him impishly, "Yeah... The shaved head really threw me off!" She chirped halfheartedly.

Any anxiety that Zuko felt was suddenly overshadowed by frustration at her obvious deflecting. "Don't patronize me!" He snapped, finally looking up. Umara unsuccessfully attempted to hide the satisfied smirk his outburst brought to her face. She looked a lot different too, much tenser and more guarded than he recalled, the softness that was once in her eyes replaced with weariness. Though, that was the extent of it, unfortunately. She was still as gorgeous as ever.

"I mean, the huge scar didn't help either, don't get me wrong." She shrugged, unbothered by his shouting. Zuko's face fell as he averted his eyes back to the floor.

Umara was never one to suffer fools, Zuko in particular. She wasn't about to start making exceptions for His Royal Crankiness now.

He'd gotten a lot taller, almost imposingly so. He stood nearly a head higher than her now, though other than his appearance he didn't seem to have changed too much, aside from the egregiously unchecked broodiness.

"So," she reached out and ran her fingers along the right side of his face, illiciting an uncomfortable shudder from her friend. "Your Uncle told me you need some help finding the Avatar?" She held his chin between her thumb and forefinger, lifting his gaze from the floor and forcing him to look at her.

"I don't need help!" He growled, harshly grabbing her wrist and pulling her hand from his face.

Umara yelped and flinched away from him so strongly that she knocked herself to the floor. Zuko's facade finally broke, he gaped at her, brow furrowed in horror at what he had just done as he swiftly moved to help her off the floor. She scrambeled away from him.

"Stop moving like that!" She cried out, her voice trembling with the rest of her body.

Just like that, Zuko was twelve again. This brought him back to the time she had convinced him to help her practice her phasing. He'd gotten so frustrated that he couldn't catch her that he wound up slamming her onto the ground when he finally did. It took everything he had in him to do as she asked and keep still. "Gods, Mari, I'm so—"

She waved her hand at him sternly. "No sudden movements, okay? Now help me up. Slowly!" She reached her trembling hand out for him to pull her up, using the momentum to throw her arms around him.

Zuko froze at the unexpected embrace. He certainly hadn't felt anything like that for a long time. At least, not outside of his dreams.

Umara pressed her cheek deliberately into his chest. "Hug me back you jerk!"

Zuko finally relaxed in spite of himself, letting himself lean into the familiar warmth he felt in his chest. He held her quietly, playing with the hair on the back of her head as he wondered what the hell had happened to make her so jumpy. She was never like that, save the night she left.

He squeezed her tighter as his stomach dropped. All this time, it had been so easy to blame her for whatever happened that led to her leaving. To get himself to believe, partially, that she'd been trying to sabotage him.

He rocked her back and forth gently, fighting back his own remorse as her chest heaved with her silent sobs. He pulled her tighter against him, "I'm sorry..."

She pulled away from him once her breathing settled, "So," she began unevenly, apparently unperturbed by what had just happened. "About this thing you don't need help with...Why the sudden urgency? Ozai never seemed particularly concerned about the Avatar before... What changed for him to send you on the hunt?" Her face had a frustratingly familiar blank expression.

There it was. The manipulation disguised by that innocent head tilt of hers. Zuko was beginning to understand why his Uncle felt she could be useful. At the very least, she'd be able to extract information that may be pertinent to their mission. He was beginning to realize how similar to Azula she'd become, albeit with a touch more subtlety. The worst part, he'd fallen right into her trap without a second thought.

Zuko glowered at her, "You can come with us. But, do not get in my way." He bellowed, eliciting an unimpressed sneer from his companion.

. . .

They started back to the ship in a welcomed silence. Zuko's head was still spinning from everything that had just happened. He couldn't land on a solid conclusion regarding how much he trusted his old friend. She had seemed genuinely upset before, but , Zuko was growing more paranoid by the second. There just had to be an ulterior motive that made her literally throw herself at him like that.

"Why's your face getting all red?" Umara questioned impishly as she smoothly twirled around to face him, skipping backwards in front of him.

He gently reached out and shooed her out of the way. "It's cold." He muttered bitterly.

I hate it when she does that.

Umara rolled her eyes and twirled back to her place next to him. "Mmhm."

His glances at her became more frequent as they walked. She floated light footed next to him, oblivious to how frustratingly graceful she really was.

"Where the fuck have you been?" The gravely words flew venomously out of his mouth before he had the chance to stop them, eliciting an aggrieved side eye.

"What the hell happened to your face?" She retorted snappily without breaking her stride or looking up.

Zuko cringed. Cheap shot, but he had it coming.

Fortunately, Umara hadn't prodded him about his outburst, and the rest of the walk back was uneventful.

"There you two are!" His Uncle calles jovially as he saw them approaching the base of the ramp. "What took you so long?" Iroh raised a presumptuous eyebrow at his nephew, earning one of his smoldering glares in response.

Zuko started up the ramp, pausing when he realized Umara had stalled at the bottom, her eyes shifting nervously between his men and himself. The same intense feeling of concern he'd had earlier crept back over him, his face dropping for only a moment before he caught himself.

"Hurry up," Zuko snapped through gritted teeth. "I don't have time for this." He regretted his own words the moment they escaped his mouth. What the hell is wrong with me?

The resentment he felt toward himself for snapping at her yet again grew as he saw his Uncle gently offering her his hand. "What do you say I help you get settled?" He smiled at Umara reassuringly and led her onto the ship. Shooting Zuko a disapproving look as they ascended past him on the ramp.

The two had just barely disappeared below deck when Liang, the most senior member of Zuko's crew approached him questioningly,

"Took a prisoner, Your Majesty?"

Zuko felt a wave of contempt wash over him. "No," he began in a low, icy tone, jamming his finger into Liang's chest. "And listen to me very carefully. If you or one of your men so much as look at her the wrong way, the consequences are not going to be pleasant for any of you. Do you understand me? No one touches her." He hissed viciously at his crewman.

Liang cleared his throat uncomfortably, "Understood, Sir."

Zuko simply sneered at him in response, abruptly making his way into the wheelhouse and leaving a shaken Liang to contemplate who the hell had just walked onto their ship.