Thanks to my reviewers, you guys are awesome! Sorry about the delay, I had to rewrite the entire first part of this T_T

Zuko woke just before dawn, feeling just as tired as he was when he fell asleep. His head was throbbing and his mouth was filled with the bitter taste of bile. As he emerged fully into consciousness the events of the previous day came back to him in a painful rush. Groaning and clutching his head, Zuko swung his legs over the side of his futon and just sat, staring at his toes.

It was still dark in his quarters and Zuko briefly considered lighting the lamp, but he felt like a wreck and it was just too much effort. He stayed there, staring at his feet for an indeterminate stretch of time, just staring, trying not to think or feel. When the first blush of pink predawn light crept in through his window, Zuko could no longer justify staying locked up in his room. He was a prince and a captain and he had responsibilities.

Firming his resolve, Zuko finally stood up. Working in the dark he stripped and rubbed himself down with a moist cloth. He found his pot of salve by touch and slathered the thick pungent paste over his wound, wrapping it in what he hoped were clean bandages. Once he was dressed and had piled all his dirty things in a corner he was nicely distracted from the awful yawning pit that threatened to engulf him every time he though about the previous night.

Feeling more alert and capable, Zuko moved to the closest lamp and pinched the wick in his fingers to light it. Nothing happened. He tried again and this time there was a small wisp of smoke. It took him three more tries to finally produce a spark that would catch on the coal oil soaked wick. Zuko started at his hands, holding them away from his body, he had the horrible sensation that they weren't his hands at all, that they belonged to someone else, a non-bender's hands. His hands had betrayed him. Fighting a sick and overwhelming horror, Zuko tried to shoot a small fireball at his window; all he got was a pathetic puff of smoke.

Seating himself on the edge of his futon, hands held out in front of himself, Zuko felt the cold chill of dread creeping up his spine. He couldn't bend! Why couldn't he bend? These two questions circled in his mind, eventually condensing down to can't bend, can't bend thumping through his mind with every beat of his heart. His head was swimming and it was all Zuko could do not to throw up again. Sucking in a deep breath, he tried to calm himself.

Zuko tried to think this through rationally. If he could come up with an explanation for why he couldn't bend, then surely it would be clear what he had to do to get it back! He thought about the last time he had done any firebending. He hadn't done any serious bending since… he had left… the most strenuous bit of firebending would be last night… with the thief… and the smell… Shuddering, and feeling himself about to retch, Zuko shut down that line of thought. He wasn't ready to face that yet.

Thinking further Zuko realized that he hadn't been meditating regularly either, perhaps that was the problem. Resolving to spend a few hours this morning in meditation, Zuko stood and was about to open his door when there was a knock on the other side.

Zuko started in surprise, then unbolted the heavy cam lock, pulling open the hatch. Standing on the other side of the portal was an old man, bald but sporting a scraggly goatee, his head was bowed slightly and he was holding a tray containing a covered bowl and a lidded gaiwan.

"Your breakfast, Prince Zuko." The old man bowed and Zuko stepped back to allow him into the room. The old man shuffled forward and set his tray down on a low table across from the doorway. Out of the corner of his eye Zuko saw him covertly scan the room as he did, eyes lingering on the pile of clothes in the corner.

Watching him leave; Zuko felt deeply unnerved. He vaguely recognized the man, having seen him around the ship, but he hadn't noticed the interest in his room before. As he locked his hatch again Zuko scanned his room himself.

To his right was his window, flanked by two of his four red-glass lamps. Under the window were a meditation table with four unlit candles on it and an enormous dragon mask. The table had a drawer in it which contained a rather nice writing kit. Across from the door was a low table which currently held Zuko's breakfast, his pot of salve and some extra bandages; above the table was a pair of Dao broadswords and their sheath, and under the table was the busted chest that held the gold Zuko's uncle had given him; since his office door had yet to be repaired. To either side of the table were wall hangings in red and black. Underneath one of these, stuffed into the corner, was a pile of clothing, Zuko's dirty things from yesterday. To Zuko's left was his futon, flanked by the remaining two red-glass lamps; behind the futon was a larger wall hanging. The floor was plated in metal sheets, with grates near the door and under the table, there were several reed mats placed down in the centre of the room and under the futon. Against the wall that held the door, nearest his futon, was a large chest containing Zuko's personal effects.

Relaxing slightly to see that everything was still in its place and there was nothing particularly valuable on display; aside from the busted chest, Zuko began his breakfast. Lifting the lid from the gaiwan he was hit with the strong aroma of oolong, the rich, woody scent reminded him painfully of his uncle. Face twisting, he drank down the scalding tea without tasting it and replaced the lid.

The covered bowl contained a lightly spiced jook, with little pieces of seaweed mixed through it. Zuko armed himself with his chopsticks and shovelled the food into his mouth methodically, it tasted nice but he didn't really care, he just ate as fast as possible. When he was done he replaced the cover on the bowl, set down his chopsticks and placed the tray outside his door for collection.

With breakfast out of the way, Zuko went to his meditation table. Lighting the candles was a trial, he could barely make a spark but he refused to light them from one of the already lit lamps. He was a firebender, he should be able to light a candle.

Seating himself cross-legged on the low meditation stool, Zuko reached out to the candle flames with his inner fire, calming his breathing to try and draw the flame's breath into his own. He knew immediately that something was wrong. His inner fire felt sick. He could feel the candle flames, that much he was certain of, four little heartbeats that called to him beautifully. He could feel them but when he reached for his own inner fire it felt wrong. Instead of the calm, powerful flame he was used to, there was a twisted, foul coal smouldering in his heart.

Reaching for it anyway, ignoring his misgivings, Zuko dug into this new source, it was strong, incredibly so. Wielding it made Zuko feel powerful and satisfied, the same way he felt whenever he scored some small victory over his sister. He felt dangerous. It was a heady feeling but when he reached for the flames to pull them into his breathing he felt the difference. The flames which were like heartbeats, something to be coaxed, were resisting. He felt as though he would be able to bend the flame if he forced it, but it was strange and different. He'd never had to force the fire before and he didn't like the feel of it. The very idea left a slimy feeling in his gut.

Zuko struggled with himself, his bending was so weak right now and he knew it would be better if he used this new source, but it felt wrong and dangerous. Eventually, unable to make up his mind he broke his meditative state. Standing shakily, he could feel that coal smouldering within himself. Face twisting in disgust, he tried to bend a small fireball.

The fire came but it was slightly wild, he hadn't meant to catch anything on fire, but one of his wall hangings caught anyway. It wasn't difficult to put it out, but the scorch mark it left behind mocked him.

Growling in frustration, Zuko unbolted his door and made his way outside. Moving through the mess he ignored the men and strode onto the deck. It was deserted and Zuko marched forcefully towards the prow. Halting about halfway he dropped into a bending stance and slid through one of his basic forms. His movements were sharp and angry and the fire was wild. Utterly frustrated with his lack of control, Zuko ran the form again.

Each time he produced his fire it was wild and this lack of control made him angry with himself. The angrier he became the hotter and stronger the fire, but it was no more controlled than before, prompting further repetitions and more frustration. This cycle could have continued all day were it not for Zuko's Lieutenant.

Jee watched the prince storm through the mess hall in high dudgeon, he watched the men shy away and conversation drop off as the boy passed. The story behind Mung's stay in the infirmary had passed swiftly amongst the crew and Jee noted their wariness with interest.

Making up his mind to follow the prince and find out what he was up to, Jee left the mess hall to lurk in the doorway to the tower and watch the boy. He saw him stride across the deck and stop halfway, dropping into a perfect firebending stance. The prince flew through a form Jee recalled vaguely from his own training, fire streaming from his fists and feet. Jee could hear the prince's clothing snap with the force of his movements. When the boy finished the set he immediately began it again. He repeated the same form five times, each movement crisp and forceful.

Shifting his gaze to the boys face, he took note of the prince's expression. He looked furious and Jee nodded to himself. His firebending was powerful, and everyone knew that bending was fueled by anger, it only made sense that the prince would be so enraged.

When Zuko began the set a sixth time, Jee stepped out of the doorway. The movement caught the prince's attention and he spun around, hand out in an aggressive bending stance.

"Nice work Prince Zuko, could I have a word with you, sir?" This Mung situation needed to be dealt with quickly, Jee thought, even though Mung himself has been... punished... there's still the matter of the stolen money and making sure the crew know what happened.

Zuko relaxed out of his stance and swiped at the sweat that was running down his forehead and irritating the scab under his bandage. "Um... yes? Sure. I'll meet you in my office."

Jee watched the boy stride past without waiting for an answer, he still hadn't made up his mind about the prince, but he couldn't deny that the boy was powerful. It would be in the crew's, and therefore Jee's, best interests not to piss him off.

Jee made his way up the ladder to Zuko's office, making a mental note to get Zheng on to fixing the door. The prince was already seated when he arrived, looking slightly out of place behind the large desk. Jee was struck by how small he looked and, taking a closer look, how tired and stressed.

Leaning against the busted door Jee folded his arms and spoke plainly, "I heard about what happened with Mung last night," here Zuko's eyes skittered away and he looked a bit sick, Jee filed the information away for future consideration, "I don't know if that was the right way to handle that situation or not... regardless, you're not finished. You need to tell the crew what happened, why one of their number is laid up in the infirmary. Did you find out how much he took?"

The prince paled as Jee spoke, shaking his head as he finished his question, "No I haven't counted it again, but I have the figure that it should be after our resupply. It wont be hard to find out." Here he paused and looked uncomfortably at Jee, "What do you think I should do about it? Make him pay it back?"

Jee frowned in consideration, the usual penalty was to dock it from his pay, but there was no telling how much he had stolen and the idea of Mung being so in debt that he would never work it off held no appeal. "We'll find out how much it is first, if its not too much you can dock it from his pay- that's the usual thing to do - if its much more than a years pay then we'll have to think of something else."

Jee watched the prince consider his words, he was pleased that the boy had asked his advice on the matter and that he seemed to actually be listening to it, their last captain had not been so... wise. After a few minutes, the prince stood and made to leave, "Okay, that seems fair, I'm going to go count then, I suppose... tell the men I'll speak with them tonight?"

Shrugging as he straightened, Jee pushed open the door, "Yes sir, I'll tell them to gather in the mess after dinner."

The prince just nodded and pushed open the door to his quarters, shutting it behind him. Jee heard the cam lock engage and frowned, wondering how badly Mung's idiocy had damaged the boy's trust.

Pondering this, Jee made his way up the ladder. Liu was at his post, alert and relaxed at the helm. Jee glanced at the pressure gauge for the main boiler as he made his way over to stand next to him.

"Everything running smoothly Liu?"

Liu immediately straightened, plastering a look of serious concentration on his face, "Oh, uh... yes lieutenant... no problems!"

Jee rolled his eyes, "Come on Liu, there's no need for that. Have you spoken to him at all? He's not like the last captain. I'm sure you'll be fine."

Liu glared at Jee, moustache twitching, "Ha! That's what you say! But what happens after this one eh? Eh? I get transferred to army is what!" He turned away, grumbling.

Jee chuckled, patting his friend on the shoulder, "Trust me Liu, you take the Prince wherever he wants to go, like one of his little palanquins back home, and he'll leave you alone completely. Just don't do anything stupid eh? Like that poor bastard Mung."

Liu gave a huff and a sly smile, "I'm not that dumb Jee, you know that. Stupid prick, there was no way he was going to get away with that! Ha! What, did he just want to test the waters for us? A sacrificial koala-lamb?"

Jee seriously considered the question, Mung wasn't terribly bright, but he'd been around a while and pulled off better shit than this. Maybe Liu was on to something, if so he doubted Mung was happy with the price he had paid for his reconnaissance.

He glanced at Liu, who had relaxed back into an easy posture and hoped he wasn't mistaken about the prince.

That evening, after dinner, Zuko addressed his crew for the second time. In their element on his ship they didn't look nearly so motley. In fact, they looked quite comfortable and competent.

Zuko hated public speaking, he had never gotten the hang of it the way his sister had, manipulating a crowd was just not something that came naturally to him. Standing at the front of the room, scanning the faces in front of him Zuko felt exhausted. His scabbing injury was itching and he had a pounding headache. He had been avoiding thinking about this whole... thing... all day and it was staring to get to him. He had placed himself next to the door, for a quick escape, and briefly pondered doing just that.

Taking a deep breath, he began.

"You probably all know that Mung is in the infirmary. The reason for this is that he has stolen from me, and by extension, from all of you. The money that Mung stole was not my personal funds, it was the funds for the repair and maintenance of this ship, the purchasing of food and supplies and your pay for the next year.

"Now, luckily for everyone the amount that was spent before I arrived is small, approximately two months of pay. Lieutenant Jee has suggested that I recoup the funds from Mung's pay, but it was not just Mung who was benefiting from this stolen money. I will be docking the pay of Mung and the other men who were with him until the debt is repaid. I think that this is more than fair, but if anybody has a problem they can direct their complaint to either myself or Lt. Jee. Dismissed."

As soon as he had finished speaking, Zuko ducked out of the door behind him, retreating to his room. But when he arrived he felt the oppressive weight of the previous day's events suffocating him, he couldn't deal with that yet. When he heard footsteps on the ladder ascending to the floors above him he left his room again, making his way to the helm.

The door to the balcony was open and the warm glow of the sunset in front of them beckoned invitingly. Stepping past the helmsman, Zuko made his way out, gripping the railing loosely, he shut his eye and tilted his face into the warmth.

Standing there, eyes shut with the warmth of the sun on his face, Zuko felt slightly more able to deal with everything that had happened. He had maimed someone. Probably permanently. He had maimed them in much the same way that he had been... hurt. Did the man deserve it? Did he deserve to be maimed? Did he deserve this? This wasn't about Mung anymore and Zuko felt his breath catch. His father had been right... to... do what he did. He must be right, because if he wasn't right... then... no. He was right and that meant Zuko was wrong.

Head hanging forward Zuko clutched tighter at the railing. The Avatar, that was his ticket home. If he captured the Avatar it wouldn't matter anymore. He would go home and everything would be back the way it should be.

His conviction reassured, Zuko tried to relax. He took deep, calming breaths as though he were meditating and released his grip on the railing.

When the sun finally set, Zuko left the railing and moved back inside. His motivation secure he was deeply interested in their progress towards the Western Air Temple.

Making his way over to the map he spoke without turning, "Where are we currently?"

The helmsman started slightly and Zuko heard him shuffle over, "Here sir," he jabbed a finger onto the map with confidence, "about three weeks from the Western Air Temple."

Zuko studied the map, noting the position of the temple and their ship. A small island caught his eye, it was unlabeled.

"What's this island?"

"Oh, uh. I don't know sir, part of the Fire Nation I think, but nobody lives there." The man straightened his hat and shuffled back to his post.

"When I'm done at the Western Air Temple we will be stopping at that island before we begin our journey back to the Earth Kingdom coast."

The helmsman looked both surprised and relieved, which Zuko found strange. Not waiting for the man's reply he left the helm, retreating to his room to meditate.

His short bout of training this morning had left him more tired than he would like to admit, and though his moves were fine, he still had much less control than he was used to. Worse though was that he knew his aim was off. It was his bandaged eye, with only one eye to see out of his depth perception was shot.

He hoped that when he finally took the bandages off for good he'd be able to see from his left eye. He hadn't opened it last night, despite not having his bandages on. The lid was gummed shut from the cracking and healing scabs around it and he didn't want to risk opening anything up again. He was tremendously lucky that it hadn't been infected so far.

Zuko tried to meditate but now that the train of thought was begun it was no use, he could think of nothing else. Abandoning the meditation he stripped out of his clothes - kicking them to the corner - and donned his sleep pants. I don't want to be a cripple.

Mung left the infirmary late in the evening the day after he was admitted. His neck, smeared in ointment and swathed in bandages, ached horribly, as did his hangover. When he had arrived in the boiler room for his shift, Zheng, the Head Engineer had laughed and asked if he had enjoyed being taken out by a little boy. More seriously Zheng had told him that his pay was being docked, along with Hyo, Ryu and Shiro's for everything they had taken.

When his shift was done and Mung returned to his room he unwound the bandages from his neck to have a look in the polished metal mirror next to his bunk. The injury was still coated in a light green salve, but underneath it he could see the shape of a small hand encircling his neck. The burn was fairly deep and Mung knew it would scar.

Humiliated, Mung re-wrapped his burn and lay on his bunk. Staring at the ceiling and feeling the gentle rocking of the ship he wondered if he should count himself lucky that the kid didn't kill him. Snarling, he punched a fist into the metal plating of the ship.

The brat would pay for this.

Next Time: Zuko visits the Western Air Temple and learns a few things.

A/N: I've made a minor change to this chapter because I sensed that I was going to have major timeline issues unless I fixed things now: Instead of Manyu being a day and a half from the Western Air Temple, it's now three weeks.