"The best people all have some kind of scar." –Kiera Cass, The One

Chapter Four: Two Kinds of Leaders

Bright orange and yellow flames whizzed past Katara's cheek. She dodged it, narrowly, before whipping a thin stream of water across the courtyard, aimed at Zuko's chest. The young teenager darted out of the way, sending a rapid succession of blasts at the waterbender. They came at her too quickly for her to avoid them; she drew her water close to her and formed a wall. The water absorbed most of the blasts, but the impact was still strong enough to knock the girl to the ground.

The prince and the waterbender remained where they were, panting, a satisfied smirk on the former's face, a scowl on the latter.

Iroh, Azula, and her two friends, Ty Lee and Mai, stood on the sidelines, observing them. "Good," Iroh called to them with a grin, "very good. You are both improving."

"Please," Azula scoffed quietly. "It's not much of a challenge when your opponent is a novice with no bending master. Katara would easily surpass Zu-Zu if we could only find her a proper teacher."

Katara stood with her back to the spectators, still breathing heavily. Her brows furrowed and her mouth pressed in a hard line. "Again."

Zuko rolled his eyes. "As you wish." His lithe body folded into a defensive stance, daring Katara to make the first move.

There was no hesitation in her attack. There was no grace or fluidity either. Frustration and fatigue seeped into her water, weighing it down, filling it with lead. Zuko avoided each attack with little effort; he looked almost bored.

"C'mon," he taunted, "where's the butt-kicking you promised? I'm waiting." He grinned as Katara gnashed her teeth and snarled, but the smile dropped when he saw the young waterbender charge him head on, abandoning her water whips in favor of clenched fists drawn back for the punch. He could not be certain where or when during the sparring match he had crossed the line, but somewhere, somehow he had, and now he had to act quickly or get a taste of what Katara fondly referred to as "Suki's specialty," whatever that meant.

He aimed his blast low, hoping to break her roots. Flames burst from his fists, licking the stones beneath her feet. Caught off guard, she stumbled backward, falling once again to the ground. The thud of her right elbow cracking against the pavement echoed throughout the courtyard. Tears pricked Katara's eyes as she breathed out a low hiss.

"So, the rumors are true."

All eyes turned towards the source of the scathing comment.

A small crowd had quietly formed in the shade, observing the young benders. Most of the newcomers were older gentlemen who carried themselves in a stately manner with their topknots tied tight, their mustaches neatly groomed, and their noses tilted skyward even as they gazed down at the children in the yard. However, one amongst them gazed at them straight on, his eyes alight with curiosity, amusement, and some other nameless quality that made Zuko's insides squirm unpleasantly.

"Ah, gentlemen." Iroh's greeting was warm. He approached the group and bowed his head in acknowledgment. "You are early. Come, come, I shall have a pot of ginseng tea prepared for you all before the meeting begins."

"There's no need for that, Iroh," the speaker of the group replied. "We had heard that the prince was training and we were eager to watch his…progress."

"It is a rather exciting display to observe," Iroh conceded, "but I am afraid he and our lovely friend, Lady Katara, have had enough sparring for the day. Perhaps another time."

"Ah, so this is the daughter of the Southern Chief. Pretty little brute, isn't she?"

Katara glared at the man with all the venom she could muster. He laughed.

"Commander Zhao, it would be wise not to insult our honored guest. In the future, I would advise you treat her with the same respect you would any other dignitary. Perhaps even more; nothing douses a fire quite like the rain."

His expression remained unapologetically amused. "Forgive my rudeness." He turned towards his companions, "Gentlemen, I believe General Iroh has offered us his famous tea; we would be remiss in our manners if we did not accept his generosity. Come."

The group disappeared into the palace with Iroh following close behind them.

"What's his problem?" Katara wondered, clutching her injured arm to her chest.

Zuko ignored her, running after his uncle. "Uncle! Wait."

Iroh turned, confusion etched into the lines on his face. "Yes, my nephew?"

"The council meeting—is it today?"

"Yes. Why do you ask?"

"I want to go," he said, as if it were the most obvious explanation in the world.

"These meetings are terribly boring, Prince Zuko. Just a bunch of old men squabbling about bureaucratic nonsense—nothing that a young man of your age need concern himself with. It is a beautiful day. Go spend some quality time with our charming friend, Katara. Show her—"

"Uncle…"

Iroh sighed. "Fine, but keep your comments to yourself; these old fellows can be a bit sensitive, you know?"

Zuko's face split into a wide grin. "Thank you, Uncle!" he exclaimed as he raced inside to change.

Zuko was acutely aware of the eyes that followed him as he entered his mother's meeting room, formerly known as the war chamber. Curiosity, disapproval, and condescension from the guards and the council members alike stalked him as he took his seat beside his uncle. He held his head high, fighting the urge to retreat into his armor like a turtle-duck withdraws into its shell when threatened. He deserved to be there. He was the crown prince. He belonged there.

The council meeting was just as Uncle Iroh had promised: bureaucratic nonsense. Over the course of two hours, Zuko's eager countenance slipped from his face, replaced by a mask of boredom. He glanced at his mother; she schooled her expression, maintaining interest even during the most mundane of topics. When she spoke, her words were always diplomatic and eloquent. Warmth spread through him. His mother was not a bender. She was not born to nobility. She had not been raised to be a politician. She was just the granddaughter of someone important who was gone now. And yet, watching her, Zuko was certain he had never seen her more in her element.

"Ambassador Chi Fu, do you have any updates regarding our exodus from the Earth Kingdom colonies?"

"Yes," replied a rather portly man to Zuko's left. "All Fire Nation colonies dating back twenty-five years have reverted control back to the Earth Kingdom. According to the recent census, most of the former colonists have returned to the Fire Nation and have found gainful employment."

"That is good news. And what of the colonies that predate those?"

Here the man hesitated; Zuko perked up in his seat. "Well…there have been…incidents. Small riots. You see, many of these older colonies are already seeing third and fourth generation Fire Nation citizens living within their walls. Most of the people now residing there have never even been to the Fire Nation. Not to mention the intermarrying between our citizens and Earth Kingdom locals; removing our people could potentially break up families."

Ursa sighed heavily. "I see. What does the Earth King have to say on this matter?"

"The Earth King is aware of the problem and is sympathetic to our plight. However, he is also under a great deal of pressure from his government to remove our presence in as swift a manner as possible. Apparently, despite your best efforts at establishing a friendly relationship with the Earth Kingdom, many still harbor strong anti-Fire Nation sentiment."

"I see no reason why we should have to remove our people from the Earth Kingdom at all." Zuko's attention snapped to the new speaker, the man from before, Commander Zhao. "All we did was take what the Earth Kingdom was too weak to protect and maintain. Survival of the fittest. As far as I'm concerned, those colonies belong to the Fire Nation."

"Commander Zhao," Ursa said, her voice laced with steel, "That land has belonged to those people for thousands of years. Just because we controlled it for a hundred, that does not make it ours. It belongs to the Earth Kingdom and we will find a solution that will satisfy all parties involved. In the meantime, I will personally write to the Earth King and beg his indulgence a while longer while we brainstorm potential solutions. We will table this issue until next month. Next order of business: trade."

Zuko suppressed a groan and slid back into his state of disinterest, only reemerging when he heard the word "Watertribe."

"Our goods have been doing exceptionally well in the Southern Watertribe, our spices particularly. However, their goods have been less popular here. When I spoke with a representative of their tribe, he made it clear that this was a source of frustration for his people."

"Well, perhaps if they would send us goods that are more worthwhile than ocean kumquats, we might actually consider consuming them."

"Sea prunes," Zuko corrected quietly under his breath.

Zhao leaned forward, a sneer on his lips, "Do you have something you would like to add, your highness?"

Once again, Zuko was keenly aware of the eyes all pinned on him. He swallowed thickly, "Just that they're not 'ocean kumquats.' They're called 'sea prunes.' Apparently, they're a delicacy in the Southern Watertribe."

Commander Zhao snorted. "Regardless, they're bland and disgusting and it is ridiculous that we are trading our finest silks and spices for them."

"The idea is not just about an economic exchange; it is also about a cultural exchange. We are trying to build a relationship and understanding with these people whom we have wronged."

Zhao glared at the Fire Lord. "The Southern Watertribe is weak and irrelevant. They have one native waterbender to their name, a little savage who has virtually no control over her so-called 'gift' and whose own culture has barred her from learning any useful tricks. If you wanted to make nice with the Watertribe, you would have been better off forging a relationship with the North. At least they are remotely civilized, comparatively speaking. The fact that we aligned with such a pitiful society is an embarrassment to the Fire Nation. But really, I can't say I'm surprised we have sunk so low, considering…"

In a matter of a second, Zuko was on his feet, trembling. "How dare you speak to the Fire Lord like that? She is your leader and that position demands honor and respect!"

A smirk stretched across Zhao's face. "Unless I am mistaken, she is only the interim Fire Lord. And if you have any shred of intelligence, it would be wise to consider how her choices are driving our nation into the ground and what kind of ruler you want to be when it's your turn, Prince Zuko. There are two kinds: one who is willing to do whatever it takes to make his people great and one who is too weak to seek greatness. Which do you think you will be?"

"I don't need to think about anything. Fire Lord Ursa has made great strides in repairing the damage from the Hundred Year War. I would be lucky to resemble her leadership in any small way; her will is my will."

"Then the crown and our nation are doomed," he replied flippantly.

Once, when Zuko was still a child, he witnessed his father breathe fire at his mother because she made a comment that angered him. At the time, he had been horrified by the display and believed nothing could possibly earn such a reaction from him. The prince now wondered if that was what was happening to him as he felt the strange burning ache in his lungs, moving up his esophagus, and threatening to escape. The desire was there to lash out at this man, to make him regret his blasphemous comments. It took all of his self-control to repress the inferno within; however, some of his rage seeped through.

"Enough! You have disrespected the Fire Lord and have insulted me for the last time. Agni Kai. Tomorrow. Noon."

The prince stormed out of the meeting, while he still had some semblance of control over himself, ignoring the calls of his mother and his uncle.

Katara knelt before a small, porcelain bowl of water. Her room was quiet, almost serene in its silence. After all the hubbub with the sparring match, the council members' arrival, and her brief stint in the infirmary to patch up her elbow, she had escaped Azula's teasing and was now focusing on the bowl before her.

She hated the silence at home; where there was silence there were no people, no comradery, and no merriment. However, in the Fire Nation, silence meant no fussing maids, no barbs from Azula, and no complaints from the prince. As far as she was concerned, solitude was the sweetest reprieve this stiflingly humid nation had to offer.

She lifted her left hand over the bowl, shifting her fingering and the sway of her arm as she did so. The liquid rose, fluctuating to her command tentatively. Katara furrowed her brow, willing the water to bend to her every whim. She cursed quietly under her breath when the water wobbled and droplets splashed along the rim, using words her father would surely chastise her for using if he ever heard her.

She really needed to improve her left-handed bending.

Again, she lifted her hand over the water, trying to feel the way the water circulated within itself as she had read about in Iroh's library. Gently, she moved her fingers, mimicking the push and pull of the water. Her eyes widened as she watched the fluid undulate with her ministrations.

"…never think anything through!"

Katara jumped at the harsh voice, breaking her concentration and sending her water splashing down back into its container.

So much for silence.

Her ears perked. There were more seemingly angry rumblings from outside and she was almost positive the rumblings belonged to General Iroh. Somehow, the image of the jolly, peace-and-tea-loving man she had grown to know did not match with the tenor of the fearsome shouts she heard. What could possibly upset Iroh? She felt a stab of pity for whoever was on the receiving end of his ire.

The girl tiptoed towards her door and poked her head out into the hallway in the hopes of hearing what was happening with better clarity. To her surprise, she could see Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee doing the same thing just across the way. The girls blinked at each other once, twice, before Azula finally sighed and motioned for Katara to join them.

Katara scurried across the hall and whispered, "What's going on?"

"I'm not sure," the princess answered. "But it sounds like uncle and I think it's coming from Zu-Zu's room." There was no mistaking the mischievous smile on her face.

"He sounds really angry," Mai noted, her eyes tight with concern.

"The dumb-dumb must have done something really stupid at the council meeting to get him this riled up. C'mon."

The girls followed the princess down the hall to Zuko's bedroom door. Each pressed their ear firmly against the polished wood and listened. It was difficult to make out individual words but Katara could hear the familiar rasp of Zuko's voice; he sounded frustrated, defensive. Iroh's voice was much clearer, likely due to sheer volume. She could catch bits and pieces of his speech. He was angry with Zuko; that much she could tell. Something about having common sense and ramifications.

Zuko's retort must have set him over the edge because when she heard Iroh speak again, his voice was a loud thunderclap, striking fear into her heart (something she never dreamed possible when it came to Iroh). "He was goading you on! He was purposely trying to get a rise out of you and you fell for it! You swallowed his bait just as the minnow swallows the worm, only to be trapped on the hook! You must call this off!"

When Zuko spoke again, Katara could hear him clear as day, "I'm not afraid." He did not shout as she would have expected him to, but something boiled beneath the surface. Was it anger? Determination? Katara could not say, not without seeing his face and reading his now familiar expressions.

"If you will not listen to reason, then I suppose there is nothing left for me to say, my nephew."

Footsteps quickly grew louder as they approached the door. Azula motioned for them to back away quickly. In her haste, Katara stumbled backwards, bumping into Mai who, in turn, toppled over Ty Lee, who landed with a thud on the marble floor. Only Azula avoided the collision and looked poised as ever when Iroh opened the doors to find them lurking.

The former general raised his brows but did not ask the question written across his face. Instead, he smiled and said over his shoulder, "Ah, some lovely, sensible young ladies come to help you, Prince Zuko, see reason. Perhaps they will do more good than this old man could." He gracefully stepped over the pile as the girls disentangled themselves from one another, and disappeared down the hall.

Zuko stared at them in disbelief. "Were you eavesdropping?"

"You weren't exactly being quiet, dumb-dumb." Azula crossed the threshold and came to stand before her brother, arms crossed expectantly. "Now, what did you do to make Uncle so uncharacteristically cross with you?"

"It's not a big deal. Leave me alone." The prince flopped on his bed and stared up at the ceiling.

"Then why all the fuss," Ty Lee asked gently.

"We're not leaving until you spill. Come on, Zu-Zu. Talk."

"Commander Zhao was disrespecting Mother during the council meeting. Then he insulted me too. I got tired of listening to it so I challenged him to an Agni Kai. There. End of story. Would you please leave now?"

The girls stared at him in horror. Katara distinctly recalled the words he had once spoken when he explained what an Agni Kai was. Since then, it has been used to settle disputes between fire benders and as a test of one's honor. Though rarely fatal, an Agni Kai does not end until one party has sustained burns. Unbidden memories of the day she opened the tent and smelled the scent of burning flesh, her father covering her eyes played out in her mind. She swallowed thickly.

Mai spoke first, sitting down beside him, and fixing him in her piercing gray gaze. "But he's a master, Zuko. I've heard my father talk about Zhao; he's terrifying. And you're a good bender, but do you honestly think you could beat him? You could…" She trailed off, the words too horrible for her to utter.

"You could get yourself killed," Katara finished.

Zuko sat up and met her eyes; he almost smiled. "Well, then you should be excited. If I die, we don't have to go through with our parents' stupid arrangement. We both win."

"You think that's funny? What about your mom and Iroh? What about Azula? If this were just about you, I'd say go, be an idiot, I don't care. But it's not just about you. And you're picking a fight with him just because he bruised your precious ego!"

"He also insulted your people, Katara, and you personally. Don't tell me that doesn't bother you."

Katara blinked, taken aback. "Well, sure," she replied finally, "but I'm not about to pick a fight with a master; I'm not an idiot."

"Well, clearly, I am!"

"Clearly."

Zuko exhaled loudly, golden eyes narrowed. "Look, if that's the best you guys got then you can leave. I'm not backing down."

"Zuko, we're just—"

"Out!"

Azula shrugged and murmured something that sounded very much like "your funeral" before leaving the room, dragging Ty Lee along with her. Mai followed quietly after them, her normally composed features betraying her hurt. Katara lingered in the doorway, debating if she should say something more, but one withering glare from Zuko sent her on her way without another word.

A large crowd had gathered to witness Zuko's first Agni Kai. Word regarding his outburst and subsequent challenge spread rapidly throughout the palace and out into the city, capturing the attention of many nobles and dignitaries. With each retelling, the tale warped until it had reached legendary proportions, some painting Zuko as a grand, heroic figure and others portraying him as an unstable lunatic destined to fall as his father had before him. All around him, he could hear the throng buzzing, debating the validity of their respective versions of the story. Uncle would probably tell him to ignore them, to focus on his breathing, but it was difficult when phrases such as "attention-seeker" and "psychotic death wish" were so casually mingled into conversations.

Iroh had come to him earlier that morning to beg him to back down from the challenge. His mother had accompanied him and although she said very little, her pain was etched into every expression. Zuko very nearly crumbled when she took his face between her palms and asked gently why he was doing this. He knew the truth would never satisfy her or his uncle, that he could not tolerate such blatant disrespect towards his mother; that Zhao's doubt in either of their abilities touched on emotions he had long repressed. Instead, he shrugged out of her reach and muttered that it was a matter of honor. Naturally, this response brought on a slew of fresh entreaties, which he ignored to the best of his abilities.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see them sitting together on a raised platform along the wall along with his sister and her two sidekicks. Katara was conspicuously missing from the party.

Irritation flared. He did not wish her to be there to act as moral support as his mother and his uncle did. Rather, he wanted to throw that scrawny waterbender's words back in her face. He wanted to show her that she was wrong to underestimate him almost as much as he wanted to punish Zhao for his insolence.

The buzzing of the spectators seemed to grow steadily louder in anticipation. Sweat dewed on his palms, his brow, as he remained in his kneeling position. His hands trembled. Breathe, he could nearly hear his uncle say to him in his head. Air that was too warm to be soothing filled his lungs and he breathed it out slowly. In. You can do this. Out. Prove them wrong.

Zuko stood and turned to face his opponent. Zhao was already on his feet and glaring with amusement. Even without his customary armor, he must have been at least twice the prince's size, a solid wall of muscle.

"This will be over quickly," Zhao purred.

They stood facing each other, waiting for the gong to signal the start of the fight. Then, Zuko felt it, the sun reaching its pinnacle in the sky.

The gong rang.

Both slipped into a fighting stance, waiting for the other to make the first move. Impatient as ever, Zuko sent the first volleys of fire across the arena.

Zhao hardly made an effort to dodge the attack. Rather, he remained rooted to the ground, lifted his fists across his chest, and deflected the barrage one by one. The air cracked around them as Zhao diffused each blast.

Zuko panted harshly, desperation forcing him to strike again. He swung his leg high, golden flames arcing towards his opponent, who pushed them away as if they were mere wisps of smoke. Zhao swiped his hand, forcing the prince to retreat, all the while avoiding Zuko's increasingly haphazard attempts at landing a blow.

Smirk firmly in place, Zhao pressed his palms together and threw a massive wall of fire straight towards Zuko. The flames roared in his ears, drowning out the cheering and booing of the throng. He lurched backwards, narrowly avoiding the attack.

Now on the offensive, Zhao shot volley after volley at the prince, who, at so close a range, could do nothing more than deflect. The boy teetered on his feet, and, in the back of his mind, he could hear his uncle yelling "Basics, Zuko! Break his roots!" However, with Zhao's intensity ever increasing, he felt helpless as to how could possibly do that. He paused, gasping for breath, as he tried to assess Zhao's weak points. The commander had no mercy for the boy, however. The next blast he sent towards the prince had him hurtling through the air and landing with a thud on his back.

Zhao sauntered towards the prince, who looked up at him with defiance in his golden eyes. The older man drew back his fist, ready to strike.

Break his roots…

It was a split decision.

Zuko watched his opponent prepare to strike, to end the match. Pain and fatigue lanced through his limbs and he nearly resigned himself to accept his defeat and highly probable death. However, the words of his uncle and the inscription on the dagger Iroh had given him echoed in his mind: Never give up without a fight.

He kicked Zhao's ankle out from under him and regained his own footing. Scorch marks marred the ground where Zuko's head had been moments before. The commander looked on in shock. If he were being honest, Zuko was just as surprised as Zhao. However, he would not allow himself to betray his astonishment. Instead, he allowed himself a brief smirk before returning the attack in kind.

The prince's strikes were relentless. In each blast, he channeled all his anger, his frustration. He saw Azula surpassing him in their studies; he heard Iroh and Katara's doubt; he saw his father lash out against his mother; and finally, he saw the sneer of his opponent as he criticized and disrespected his mother. Zhao stumbled back, still reeling from Zuko's surprising recovery, and tumbled to the ground when the prince landed a kick square in the chest.

The commander groaned both in pain and humiliation as looked up to see the thirteen-year-old prince looming over him, fists raised and ready.

"Do it!" he snarled. Blistering heat radiated from the boys fist and roared past Zhao's cheek, scorching the tan stone beside the man. He glanced at the smoke rising from the ash. "That's it?" he asked, incredulous.

"Like you said," replied Zuko, lowering his trembling hands, "there are two kinds of leaders. But if you disrespect the Fire Lord again, I won't hold back."

The boy turned his back on the commander then, and that was where he made his grievous error.

The guards had refused Katara entry to watch the Agni Kai; they said only Fire Nation nobles were allowed to watch. When Katara complained that Mai and Ty Lee were allowed in, they merely brushed her off and then ignored her.

They may have been determined to keep her out of the arena, but there was nothing they could really do about her sitting outside, listening to the match. Or, at least, they did not make a fuss of her sitting outside. She sat against the wall, a solid twenty feet from the nearest guard and leaned her head back. She heard the gong ring out, signaling the start; she heard the crowd cheer their approval and hiss their dissent. It sent chills up her spine, listening to them treat this act of insanity as a spectator's sport.

Perhaps more disturbing than the crowd's cheering was their abrupt silence. More disturbing than their silence was the guttural, agonized cry that shortly followed. Then the outraged roar that drowned out all other senses.

Azula, Ty Lee, and Mai recounted the Agni Kai to her later, each offering her own take on the events.

"It was nerve-wrecking to watch…"

"I wish you could have seen it, Katara. It was so cool! Zuko has improved so much and I bet you would have been super impressed. Too bad that jerk couldn't play by the rules."

"The dumb-dumb did surprisingly well, all things considered. That is, until Commander Zhao blew his face off. Quite the temper on that one. I'll be shocked if the council doesn't suspend him."

Zuko had no visitors besides Ursa, Iroh, and his nurses for nearly two weeks. During meals, Iroh would often chatter away happily about the prince making a speedy recovery, but Katara suspected that was more for Ursa's benefit than hers or Azula's. The Fire Lord would smile politely before returning to picking absently at her food.

On the thirteenth day of Zuko's solitude, Iroh approached Katara.

She had been sitting underneath the moon peach tree by the pond, lazily tossing breadcrumbs into the water for the turtle-ducks to consume—one of the few pastimes she and Zuko could enjoy together peacefully. Although she would never admit it aloud, she found herself missing it a little.

Iroh smiled, watching the young girl interact with the turtle-ducklings. Her gentleness may be the soothing balm his nephew needed. If not, her feistiness would at least elicit some reaction out of him. His despondent attitude had Iroh and Ursa very concerned.

"Lovely day," Iroh said, by way of greeting. Katara glanced up and smiled before returning to her breadcrumbs. "It is a pity Prince Zuko is still unable to come outside; I know how much he enjoys relaxing activities such as this. And I'm sure he is tired of his old uncle being his sole companion."

Katara paused again, this time wary. What was this sly old man up to?

Iroh chuckled, as if reading her mind. "I was wondering, would you be willing to join me in my visit with him today? Just for a little while. I'll have some tea and snacks brought up and the two of us could keep him company, lift his spirits. It could be good for him."

"Why not ask Azula?"

"I hardly think a visit from Azula will lift Zuko's spirits right now. Do you?"

Katara grinned, shaking her head. "Probably not." Not that I'd be much better.

"Then you'll join me?"

Katara glanced back at the turtle-ducks who were now paddling away from her. She sighed, dusting off the last of the crumbs, and stood, offering Iroh a half-hearted smile.

They walked for a few minutes in companionable silence, while a storm of questions circulated in Katara's head. Finally, after noticing the perplexed look on the young girl's face, Iroh asked, "Is something troubling you?"

Katara gnawed her lip, hesitant. "It's…it's about that man. The commander who hurt Zuko."

"Commander Zhao—or I should say Lieutenant Zhao; he's not a commander anymore. The council voted to demote him after his disgraceful display in the arena. But go on."

"Well, I was just wondering…why would Ursa want him on the council to begin with? From the bits and pieces I've heard he seems kind of like a jerk."

At this, Iroh laughed. "That would be the understatement of the century. But Ursa had her reasons for including him in her council." Katara offered him an arched look, begging him to elaborate. "Zhao was a commander in my brother's army during the war. When the war ended, all military leaders, including yours truly, were put on trial to answer for our crimes against the other nations."

"But you helped stop the war; why would they put you on trial?"

"Because I am human and have done things that I am not proud of and they cost me dearly. However, because I also helped end the war, my punishment was less severe, depending on who you ask. They barred me from ever ascending the throne; they actually wanted to strip the crown from my family all together but some clever man reminded them that a certain prince was also the heir of Avatar Roku. Of course, that changed everything and thus placed Ursa in power, however temporarily.

"Zhao, like me, was placed on trial. However, unlike me, when witnesses were called to testify against him, no one came; all circumstantial evidence regarding his crimes had simply vanished. Because the new regime was determined that all criminals be offered a fair trial, they had no choice but to let Zhao go free, virtually unscathed, despite the suspicious circumstances. Of course, Ursa knew what he was and did not trust him. So, she offered him a position on her new council."

Katara balked. "Why?"

"To keep an eye on him. As the adage goes, 'Keep your friends close, keep your enemies closer.' That and he occasionally offers constructive input; although, he certainly didn't during this last meeting.

"Ursa likes to surround herself with people whose opinions vary from her own; she believes the fresh perspective is instrumental in our growth. It's one of the many reasons why she was so eager to form an alliance with your tribe."

Katara nodded, digesting this new information. One question answered, a thousand new ones begging for attention. However, it seemed like neither the time nor the place since they had arrived outside Zuko's room. Later, she told herself.

The room was dark; the drapes were pulled tightly across the window and the lamp on the bedside table burned a low, crimson hue. Katara spotted Zuko lying on his bed, blankets rumpled, glaring at the ceiling.

He looked awful.

Someone had shaved his long dark hair away in order to tend to the burns on the left side of his face; she wondered idly if the hair would ever fully grow back. Bandages crossed down across his face, covering the worst of the wound, but Katara could faintly make out the angry pink lines of the scar forming beneath the gauze. Dark shadows formed underneath his uncovered eye, suggesting that sleep had been fleeting for the poor boy. His hollow cheeks also gave the impression that he had not eaten in a week, possibly more.

No wonder Ursa and Iroh were so worried.

"Good afternoon, Prince Zuko!" Iroh greeted brightly, striding across the room to open the drapes. Warm light pooled into the room; Zuko flinched back away from the beams crossing his bed. "It is a beautiful day, but since you don't seem up to venturing outside yet, I brought a beautiful young lady to keep you company, with my supervision, of course." Iroh winked at them. Katara fought the urge to roll her eyes. Zuko was less tactful.

Iroh pulled up two chairs next to Zuko's bed and invited Katara to sit with him. "So, Nephew, how are you feeling today?"

Zuko lazily glanced over Iroh, whose smile seemed forced, and Katara, who played absently with the ends of her braid, and said, "Fine."

"Good! I am glad to hear it. Well, I brought some…er…" Iroh glanced around himself. "It seems in my haste for me and Katara to come visit you, I forgot the tea. Never thought I'd see the day when that would happen. If you two will excuse me for a few minutes, I'll go fetch someone to bring us some."

The door closed quietly behind them, leaving the youths to stare blankly at each other.

Katara had no idea what to say to Zuko. She felt pity for him under the circumstances but since he was already proud and she would not consider herself his friend, she doubted her pity would be welcome. She also had less kind things to say to him, most of them involving some version of "I told you so."

"Well," Zuko said, breaking the silence. "Aren't you going to say it?"

Katara froze and briefly wondered if Zuko could read minds before dismissing the notion and saying, "Say what?"

"That I'm an idiot? Or that I was reckless? Or that you told me so?"

There it was, the opening to say it. And yet, seeing this boy, hardly a teenager, look so fragile despite his bark, made her swallow the harsh words she had wanted to say moments prior. Well, most of them.

"First of all, you are an idiot; that's not news. Second, it was incredibly reckless of you to go through with that stupid Agni Kai. And third, I'm not going to say I told you so."

"You're not?" His scowl deepened, as if he did not trust her.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I said you'd get yourself killed. I said nothing about severe—but not fatal—burns."

Zuko rolled his good eye. "Whatever."

Silence stretched between them. Katara did not wish to sit around and waste a perfectly good afternoon with someone who insisted on being grumpy. Yet, she felt an overwhelming urge to say more, to voice thoughts that she had not said when Azula told her what happened, or when Iroh voiced his positive affirmations at dinner.

"For what it's worth," she began, unable to stop the words from tumbling out, "I thought you did the right thing—not burning Zhao, I mean. Your ancestors have done some pretty horrible things and you could have taken that first step to becoming like them. But you didn't. And, I guess…I guess that means you're not all bad. You might even make a good Fire Lord someday."

"Did you just compliment me?"

"Don't get used to it."

An unfamiliar and unsettling feeling swelled within the young pair, although not entirely unpleasant. Warmth bubbled in their bellies and spread to their limbs, to their cheeks. An older, perhaps wiser person might recognize the feeling as something akin to affection. However, for all their life experiences that aged them well beyond their years, there were still some mysteries in life to which Katara and Zuko were entirely green.

So, when Iroh returned with the tea to find his nephew and their guest uncomfortably looking away from one another, he did not have to wonder as the youths did. He simply served the tea and continued the conversation as if he had never left, smiling to himself when the shyness evaporated and was replaced by their familiar bickering.

Maybe, he thought. Just maybe.

Author Note: Thank you all for your patience and support! This chapter was quite the challenge to write. I haven't had a ton of experience writing action sequences and so I'm afraid mine weren't the best. If anyone has any tips or resources for that kind of thing, I'd love the feedback. Any other feedback is also welcome, as always.