Chapter Two

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It was not long after Zuko began moving around his ship that he grew painfully aware that nothing would be normal ever again.

He'd been well aware that his men hated him – hearing had always been good, even if not so sharp as it seemed to have grown after his trip into the sea – so he'd already overheard many of the things they whispered when they thought he wasn't around.

That being said, he'd never expected them to fear him.

Of course, the fear would not have been so bad if they were afraid for the right reasons. His father and Azula both gained healthy respect from their inferiors through means of intimidation, and Zuko had long attempted to copy their methods with little success.

Unfortunately, now that his men were afraid of him, it wasn't because they were intimidated or because they respected him, but rather because they thought he was unnatural. Their frantic words reached his ears easily through the walls, and he was painfully aware that many of them thought he was a ghost, or that the spirits had touched him and it was bad luck to get too close to him. The worst, of course, were the rumors that they had to obey him not out of duty, but because disobedience would be met with retaliation from the dark forces that had saved him.

He hated it. Hated how his men ducked their heads and meekly shuffled around him whenever he appeared, hated how they whispered stories when they thought he wasn't listening, and hated how they cringed from his presence like even looking at him was damning. Only Uncle acted as though nothing was amiss, but Zuko knew very well that even he was worried. Maybe it helped his pride that the Dragon of the West was scared for and not of him, but it certainly did nothing to calm his fear.

If Uncle was afraid of what was going to happen to him, and his crew was simply afraid of him, something awful was inevitably going to occur. Even if it didn't, Zuko was certain that everyone was so sure of the contrary that his crew would try killing him in his sleep before the tension got to be too much.

The worst part was that he could do nothing to fix it. Uncle had tried talking to them, had attempted to make assurances that he could see spirits and didn't notice anything wrong with Zuko, but everyone knew that Iroh had no clue what was really going on, and while they didn't believe the same of Zuko, the prince really didn't have any more idea than his uncle.

How was he supposed to reassure them when he couldn't even reassure himself?

For those awful first couple days, he'd been certain the situation could not possibly decline any further.

Then Uncle insisted they stop for supplies at a Fire Navy controlled port. The prospect of doing so was enough to bring a scowl to Zuko's face. Not only were his crew incorrigible gossips who would spread the news of the incident in the South Pole to anyone willing to listen, but spending time around the Fire Nation Navy was only asking for embarrassment. He hated seeing men who were his inferiors lord their superior crews and circumstances and lives over him, hated seeing his puny, old-style ship next to new ones twice its size, and he despised the way people looked at him like he was a circus sideshow instead of a member of the royal family.

His fears were proved well-founded the moment he stepped off his ship. Near every soldier crowded around the docks turned to stare, apparently having nothing better to do than gawk at the banished mockery of a prince. Zuko glared at them all.

"Uncle," he said through gritted teeth. "We are getting our supplies and leaving immediately." People are staring. He had too much pride to say that out loud; instead, he settled on confessing the more legitimate of reasons he wanted to leave. "If we stay too long, the crew will start talking."

"About the Avatar?"

"No!" He paused. "Yes! I mean… about everything. Once word gets out of what happened, my father will—every firebender will…" He shook his head. "Things will start getting in the way—"

"Getting in the way of what, Prince Zuko?"

Zuko's blood froze and his entire body stiffened at the all too familiar voice. Even knowing who it was before he turned around, Zuko couldn't help but cringe when his eyes rested on Captain Zhao's sneering face. He had half a mind to tell the bastard off for eavesdropping, to snap that what he was talking about wasn't any of his damn business and he should leave before Zuko grew too tempted to burn the smirk off his ugly face, but Zuko didn't want to start a fight.

What he wanted was to get this detour over with. As quickly as possible.

And maybe… maybe if he stayed calm, doing so would remain a legitimate possibility.

"Captain Zhao," said Zuko, only just managing to feign some degree of politeness. By the disproval in his uncle's expression, it apparently wasn't enough.

Zhao's smirk widened.

"It's Commander now." His eyes rested on Iroh. "And-" He bowed to Uncle then, emphasizing the motion to draw added attention to the fact that he didn't bother giving Zuko any form of respectful address, "-General Iroh. Great hero of our nation."

Iroh bowed back, even as his eyes narrowed. "Retired general."

Zhao ignored the correction with a saccharine smile. "The Fire Lord's brother and son are welcome guests anytime. What brings you to my harbor?"

"We have run very low on supplies," explained Iroh. "We were just in the South Pole, and so have not been able to replenish our stocks for some time."

"All we need is food and medical provisions," added Zuko emphatically. "Then we'll leave. You will have no troublefrom us."

He made direct eye contact with Zhao, daring the captain –commander – to ask questions.

Zhao merely continued to smirk.

"No, no. You can't leave yet; after spending so much time in the barren tundra," he said slickly, "you mustbe interested in warming up over hot tea. Join me for a drink?" A pause. "Unless you're too worried that those things you spoke of earlier will get in your way should you take the time to stop."

Zuko cursed under his breath. Zhao had heard enough to be suspicious and was probably coming up with explanations for Zuko's words even as they spoke—explanations that had him too wary to let the matter go. Not going with Zhao now would only confirm whatever suspicions he'd started to entertain.

"We would be honored to join you," said Uncle after a moment. He caught Zuko's eye and sent him a silent warning, his meaning tangible enough he might as well have spoken the words aloud. Behave. Don't panic. "Do you have any ginseng? It's my favorite."

Zuko growled under his breath, but stomped along behind Zhao and his uncle as they chatted like old acquaintances.

Dammit. He was so screwed.

…

After a long-winded conversation on how certain Zhao was that the Earth Kingdom would be defeated by the end of the year – which was stupid, because Zuko had seen the Earth Kingdom's people, knew they would never willingly submit to his father –Zuko had almost thought they might be able to leave without trouble. A few deflected questions about the Avatar, and he and Uncle were making for the door-

-and then the guards crossed their spears to keep them from leaving, just as a third soldier entered the room with an unmistakably mocking smile on his face.

"Commander Zhao, we interrogated the crew as you instructed." No. Zuko gritted his teeth. He knew his crew, knew how they would have been all too eagerto gossip about what'd happened. He just hoped that hadn't told them everything.

"And…?" said Zhao, with interest.

"They confirmed Prince Zuko had the Avatar in custody, but let him escape." A pause. "There were also rumors that the prince was killed by the Avatar. The crew said he only survived by calling upon dark spirits."

"WHAT?"

All eyes flew to Zuko, and he clamped his mouth shut, well aware he'd just ruined any chance he'd had of pretending nothing had happened.

Why did he have to be such an incompetent moron all the time?

"I believe you may have left out some important information when discussing your trip to the South Pole, Prince Zuko." Zhao smiled wolfishly. "Would you care to… enlighten me?"

He was going to kill his crew. Every single one of them.

Slowly.

"I am not going to tell you anything," he spat.

As it turned out, he didn't need to. The soldier who'd interrogated his crew reported everything. Zuko's fists clenched tighter and tighter throughout the entire story, teeth gnashing at every detail the crew had exaggerated, until finally the tale was finished and Zhao turned to look at Zuko with nothing less than disgust written all over his face.

Knowing that his father would have looked at him in the exact same way had he heard the news made his failure hurt so much more.

"So a twelve-year-old boy not only bested you and your firebenders…" Zhao stepped forward, so that his face was right in front of Zuko's. "He also killed you."

"He threw me off my ship," Zuko growled. "I held on to the edge. My crew was mistaken. I never touched the water."

"They said you sank for nearly ten minutes before General Iroh dragged your useless carcass overboard."

He growled. "They're the scum of the Fire Nation Navy. Do you expect them to be honest?" A deep breath, and then, mockingly: "Besides, I'm right here, Zhao. If the Avatar had managed to kill me, I'd like to think I would still be dead."

"Oh, please," said Zhao. "It doesn't matter if you died or not; to be frank, I'm more inclined to agree with your opinion that your crew is a bunch of disreputable drunks. Such superstitious nonsense is hardly plausible. I am more interested in the fact that you let the Fire Nation's most dangerous enemy escape after apparently capturing him."

"I underestimated him once," Zuko spat. "It will not happen again!"

"No," said Zhao. He smirked. "It will not. Because you won't have a second chance."

Zuko suddenly felt ice cold, as though he'd fallen into the freezing polar waters once more. "Commander Zhao-" Don't show him how scared you are. Be angry. Lose your temper. Just don't let him see you panic. "I've been hunting the Avatar for two years and I-"

"And you failed!" Zhao shouted angrily, and Zuko swallowed, biting back bitter disappointment because the bastard was right. He'd failed. Just like always. "Capturing the Avatar is a task too important to leave in a teenager's hands. He's mine now."

Zuko couldn't even find words to respond.

He despised Zhao, hated him with every fiber of his being.

He was also trying very hard not to cry.

So close. He'd been so damn close.

Zhao spun and made to leave.

"Keep them here," he announced over his shoulder, and then he was gone.

Zuko slammed his foot down on the table in front of him the moment Zhao was out of sight. That… that bastard was not going to steal his ticket home. Zuko refused to allow it.

He turned, still steaming, to see one of his guards looking at him like his crew had begun to—with fear in his eyes.

"The spirits are going to damn you for this," he hissed, ignoring the way his uncle winced at his words. The spirits had it out for him anyway. Let them give him more crap for speaking in their place. They were already too late to ruin his life or take away his honor. He had nothing left. "I'm going to make them damn you."

While making the guard squirm hardly accomplished anything, it did lessen his anger somewhat. Zuko managed to calm down enough to sit and breathe evenly for the next few minutes, some degree of composure returning as he assured himself that Zhao didn't have him beat yet.

Then the bastard returned, that damnable smirk still stretched across his face, and Zuko's tenuous calm all but disappeared.

"My search party is ready," he said, looking directly at Zuko. Zuko glared back with as much ferocity as he could muster, as though he hadn't just been betrayed by his crew and degraded by Zhao and disrespected about a hundred times over by people who were supposed to be loyal to him. "Once I'm out to sea, my guards will escort you back to your ship and you'll be free to go."

"Why?" he asked furiously. "Are you worried I'm going to try to stop you?"

Zhao's laughter wreaked havoc on what minute control Zuko still had over his temper. "You? Stop me?" His smirk broadened. "Impossible."

"Don't underestimate me Zhao!" he spat. "I will capture the Avatar before you." I have to.

Uncle climbed to his feet, looking worried. "That is enough, Prince Zuko."

Zuko ignored him, not needing any of his stupid 'words of wisdom.' He didn't want to hear how he had to be calm and peaceful and think before he acted. He wanted to tear Zhao's face off, wanted to burn his stupid port—with all his stupid technologically advanced ships—to the ground.

Zhao didn't seem any more inclined to let the argument die than Zuko. "You can't compete with me. I have hundreds of war ships under my command… and you? You're just a banished prince. No home, no allies." The words hit him like knives to the heart. Then, the worst: "Your own father doesn't even want you."

The statement he'd heard so many times whispered amongst his crew, in his nightmares, and repeated in his thoughts sounded so much worse coming from Zhao's mouth, spoken so bluntly to his face.

He's lying. He has to be lying.

"You're wrong!" he shouted, and Zuko internally winced because he knew he was reacting too strongly for someone who'd been completely unaffected. A deep breath, and then with as much conviction as he could muster, he plowed forward, refusing to show doubt. "Once I deliver the Avatar to my father, he will welcome me home with honor and restore my place on the throne."

Zhao locked eyes with him, almost… almost looking like he pitied Zuko, just for a moment, and that was so much worse than the hatred and the anger that'd been in his expression before.

"If your father really wanted you home," he said slowly, annunciating his words with care, as if trying to make each syllable hurt, "he would have let you return by now. Avatar, or no Avatar." Shut up. Shut up. Shut. Up. "But in his eyes, you are a failure and a disgrace to the Fire Nation."

"That's not true." Agni, he sounded weak when he said that.

Zhao was wrong. His father… his father had told him, before he left, his father had said that his banishment was for his own good. He would leave, and he would learn honor and respect, and then he would come home a proper prince of the Fire Nation. The Fire Lord had said it himself. He'd sent Zuko away because he wanted to help him.

His father's words meant more than Zhao's. He knew that. He was just being stupid, was letting himself be baited. He had to calm down.

"You've got the scar to prove it."

…and that was it.

He launched himself out of his chair and tore towards Zhao, frustration only building when the commander peered at him as though he were a child having a tantrum.

"Maybe you'd like one to match," he hissed.

"Is that a challenge?" Zhao asked. Mockingly. Like Zuko wasn't someone to be afraid of.

And what if Zhao's right? I'm an awful firebender. Useless. I-

No.

He refused to back down.

"An Agni Kai," he said. "At sunset."

"Very well." Zhao straightened and took a step back. "It's a shame your father won't be here to watch me humiliate you." He started walking away, then stopped at the last moment and said over his shoulder, "I guess your uncle will do."

"Prince Zuko," said Uncle when Zhao was gone. "Have you forgotten the last time you dueled a master?"

Zuko gritted his teeth and glanced at his uncle, hand raising as if to brush his scar before he let it fall to his side once more. "I will never forget."

With that he stalked away. He needed to prepare. Needed to shake off Zhao's ugly lies.

"If your father really wanted you home, he would have let you return by now." "In his eyes, you are a failure and disgrace to the Fire Nation." "You've got the scar to prove it." "If your father really wanted you home, he would have let you return by now." "In his eyes, you are a failure and disgrace to the Fire Nation." "You've got the scar-"

He exhaled sharply.

"Zuko… are you okay?"

He looked to Uncle. "Fine."

"It is not too late to back out. You… you are still recovering."

"I. Am. Fine."

"Zhao was saying those things to hurt you," said Uncle.

Not 'Zhao was lying.' Or 'None of it was true.' The word choice probably—maybe—wasn't deliberate, but it did nothing to help Zuko's already shaky belief in himself. Like even his uncle had believed what the commander had been saying.

"I wish to be alone, Uncle," Zuko muttered.

Vowing to push Zhao's words from his mind for good, Zuko stalked off to find a quiet place where he could order his thoughts before sunset.

…

Zuko fixed his eyes on Zhao as he hovered near the edge of the arena, watching as the other man prepared for their Agni Kai. He could taste Zhao's sweat in the air as he warmed his muscles, could hear the steady thud of the commander's heart.

Zuko's own heart fluttered erratically, but he pretended not to notice how calm Zhao was compared to himself. Pretended he couldn't hear the other man's heartbeat at all, because acknowledging it also meant acknowledging that there was something wrong with him.

"Remember your firebending basics, Prince Zuko," said Uncle. Zuko spared him a glance, but found he couldn't take his eyes off Zhao. "They are your greatest weapons."

"I refuse to let him win," he said, refusing to acknowledge his uncle's words. Wise as Iroh could be, in this instance he was wrong. Zuko's basics were not his greatest weapons. His determination was. His bending was relatively unexceptional and he knew it, but if he could keep attacking, could go after Zhao until the other man started to get frustrated, started to lose his composure… then he would win.

Pathetic bending or no.

Uncle seemed to sense some of this, because he said nothing more as Zuko stepped into the arena.

Zhao did the same. He was still smirking.

Zuko's heartbeat ratcheted. Zhao's remained almost taunting in its consistency.

"This will be over quickly."

He really believes that.

Zuko was not entirely sure if the knowledge intimidated or infuriated him. Then the gong sounded, and the time for thinking was over.

Zuko watched Zhao carefully as they circled each other. Neither made to attack. One moment passed. Then two. It was apparent Zhao wanted Zuko to make the first move.

Then I'll give him what he wants.

With as much force as he could muster, Zuko arched his arms and then lowered them harshly, waiting for the rush of fire to follow-

White and green and red lit his hands for a moment, warm and almost fluid, before it spluttered out.

His eyes boggled and what fear he'd felt before increased tenfold. What was that? What… that hadn't been… that wasn't even firebending!

Stomach dropping, Zuko retraced the events of the past days in his head. He'd drowned almost three days ago, had meditated since, but… but Uncle had insisted on a break from his actual training, had suggested he take time off from bending to make sure falling into the ocean didn't interfere with his chi.

Now it became apparent he should have done something. Because bad as it was that his bending had… that his bending had faded, or changed, or gotten completely screwed up, it was worse that he had to find out in the middle of an Agni Kai against Zhao.

Unwilling to accept what had happened, Zuko tried a fire punch, only for the flames to do the exact same thing as they had before. Zhao frowned for a moment, like he was worried it was a trick, but Zuko was unable to hide the despair on his face. Soon the commander was laughing, not even bothering to defend himself.

"You… you can't bend anymore."

"I-"

He ignored Zuko entirely. "The great Prince Zuko has lost his bending. How in the hell did that happen?" He paused. "Wait… you actually did fall into the ocean, didn't you? Let me guess: the cold depleted your chi. Or were you saved by the spirits… in exchange for your firebending?"

As soon as the words left Zhao's mouth, Zuko flinched backwards. No. That couldn't be it. If that was it, they should have just let him die.

"I'm right, aren't I?"

"Prince Zuko! It is okay… you do not need to fight now-"

Oh no. Zuko shook his head and glanced at Uncle. "No! I'm not backing down." He looked to Zhao. "I can bend just fine. I was experimenting with something new. Now shut up and fight me."

Zhao guffawed once more, the sound ringing in Zuko's ears. His face turned red with fury even as hopelessness gnawed at his insides. He really couldn't bend. What in Agni's name was he going to do? Not even just in the case of the Agni Kai. What about after? How could he survive without his bending? His crew would abandon him, he would never capture the Avatar, and-

This first. Worry later.

"Something new? You always were less advanced than your sister, but I would have figured you had already learned fire punches at a somewhat reasonable age… perhaps fourteen."

Most benders learned fire punches at six. Zuko had figured them out at eight.

A growl escaped his throat. "Shut up and fight me, Zhao."

The commander barred his teeth. "I think I'm going to enjoy this."

He advanced.

For the first time, Zuko was unspeakably thankful for his newly advanced senses. He could feel the atmosphere around Zhao shift as he prepared to bend, could taste the fire in the air just before it was generated and was able to dodge accordingly. His movements were surprisingly stealthy as well, more balanced and coordinated than before. Then again, he'd heard somewhere that hearing and balance were related, so perhaps -

Zhao sent a steam of fire at his head, and Zuko flattened himself to the ground.

Not the time for speculating.

After the fire passed over him, Zuko once again raised an arm and punched at as Zhao as hard as he could, but still only that weak, barely-there trickle of molten flame escaped from his hand. Zhao laughed and tried to hit Zuko again, and he was forced to roll out of the way before he could attempt another attack. The fire roared in his ears as it soared just past his head.

"Ready to surrender?" taunted Zhao.

"I will never surrender to you," said Zuko, ducking another attack as he spoke. He needed a different plan. Maybe if he got close enough to Zhao, what little fire he could produce would still hurt him. If he could move quickly enough and tackle him…

But that would be dishonorable. It was a fire duel. Physical attacks were against the rules.

Maybe… maybe he could get Zhao to hurt himself somehow, if Zuko could position himself right next to him. He could get him to shoot fire and perhaps manipulate his hands so the attack was sent in the wrong direction. He'd still have to challenge Zhao physically, damage would be done with bending.

Okay. He would try that. It was the only thing he could try. He had no other choice.

The issue was getting close enough to Zhao to put his plan into action without hurting himself in the process.

Zhao fired another blast, and Zuko rolled out of the way quickly before vaulting himself to his feet. Another attempt at bending, hoping for something, but his concentration failed and there wasn't even smoke. His mad plan was really his only chance.

Zuko ducked under Zhao's next attack and ran. He had to stop before he was halfway to the older man, had to dodge again and backtrack when a stream of fire was sent in his direction, but he spun fast and managed to gain another few feet, and then several more. Soon he was right near Zhao and every movement seemed twice as fast as it should have.

Zhao attacked once more, and Zuko turned away from the blast, positioned himself behind Zhao- if he'd just bend right now…-

Except Zhao wasn't an idiot.

He sent a flaming fist where Zuko wasn't, and Zuko dodged straight into it, realizing his mistake too late. The blow hit him in the stomach and Zuko fell to the ground with a groan, the bare flesh of his abdomen blistering under the harsh flames.

A perfect hit. Just like the one that had marred his face.

No. Keep moving. Don't give up.

He tried to regain his footing, but Zhao sent a fire kick in his direction. The steady stream engulfed Zuko and he stumbled backwards again, unable to move out of the way. He tried to block, but his bending wouldn't work and the fire lingered on his skin, burning and searing before it faded.

Desperately, Zuko raised his hands to try to summon some kind—any kind—of flame.

It didn't work. Zhao made perfect contact when he set his hand on fire and punched him again, this time in the face—right on his scar—and Zuko fell, mouth gaping open, unable to move or think or breath because dammit it hurt, and then it wasn't Zhao standing over him anymore, but his father. He was eleven again and crying and hugging his chest and he couldn't see out of his left eye, and all he wanted was for it to go away.

Please, please make it go away.

Dimly, he was aware of Zhao talking. Something about finishing him off being an act of mercy. Then he could taste Zhao's fire as the other man summoned it. He couldn't see but was aware of its movement all the same, could feel the flames as they neared his right eye—Matching scars? Or will this just kill me?—and while most of him was too far gone, too scared, too weak to care, some baser instincts refused to let the hit land that easily.

He rolled out of the way, vision in his right eye focusing as he did so, even though his left eye… his left eye felt like it had after his first Agni Kai. He took a deep breath and tried to move, to raise a hand to the offending injury, but his entire body was burnt and hurt. The smell of scorched flesh settled heavily in his nostrils. The taste lingered on his tongue.

Above him, the shadow of Zhao made to strike.

He was too close. No time to flinch away again. Not now that Zhao knew he wasn't totally out of it.

His good eye met the other man's for a brief moment. Fire descended towards him.

And Zuko forced his burnt arms up to protect himself, reflexively calling forth a wave of something as a shield. His chi swelled, traveling through his limbs and torso and all throughout his body. Eventually it exploded out of him and he was engulfed in a bright, colorful light. It was some kind of fire, he thought, except it was warm, wonderfully warm and comforting and all in an instant, the burning was gone and he felt, somewhere deep inside of him, things being fixed. He felt the skin reconstructing around his face, and the damaged eye knitting back together. The fire tugged at his scar for a heartbeat before withdrawing, recognizing that the injury was too old to be fixed. Then it kept traveling, kept kissing his skin and ghosting over the less severe burns, focusing around where Zhao had punched him in the stomach, and then-

Then it expanded outward, not encompassing only him anymore, but surrounding Zhao as well.

A moment later it was gone, and Zhao was lying across from him. Dead, was Zuko's first thought, but he could still hear a heartbeat, a strong heartbeat, like his bending hadn't done any damage at all, not beyond knocking him out.

But that… that was enough. Because he was still alive, and… and he didn't hurt anymore. He ached, and he was tired. Really tired, he realized. His eyes fluttered closed, but no. He needed to get up, needed to leave the arena before Zhao to be declared the true victor.

Slowly, reminding himself again and again that he just needed to reach Uncle, just needed to make it those few steps, Zuko managed to haul himself to his knees. He tried and failed to stand, but he was too exhausted for pride, and so he crawled out of the arena and to Uncle. Vaguely he heard himself announced as the winner, and then Iroh was right there, kneeling next to him and fussing. Zuko recognized that he was safe and let his eyes drift shut, exhaustion overwhelming him completely.

…

Iroh clutched Zuko tight to his chest and tried not to panic. That boy was going to be the death of him, but oh, Iroh did not care so long as Zuko was okay. He'd had a bad feeling from the moment his nephew had challenged Zhao, but he hadn't expected that something so devastating would happen. While he'd convinced Zuko to rest by threatening the loss of his chi, he had not honestly believed his own words; his nephew had been fine, and he did not think the spirits would be so cruel.

Indeed, he'd only been trying to get his nephew to take a break.

How guilty he felt about that now. If he had simply allowed Zuko to practice, the boy would have seen that his bending had… had altered. He would not have challenged Zhao, or perhaps they could have worked out the kinks together, and his challenge would not have gone so badly as it had.

Although, Iroh reminded himself as he took in his nephew's skin, unblemished save for his scar, it could have gone much, much worse.

Iroh was not able to explain what had happened to his nephew underneath the waters of the South Pole, but he did know that he recognized the fire that had enveloped him during his Agni Kai. It had been years since he'd laid eyes on anything like it, but the sight was unmistakable: his nephew had been using fire very, very similar to that of the dragons. Iroh also knew with a deep certainty that the fire was also the light he had seen under the sea before Zuko had reappeared.

Iroh had always understood the concept of 'fire is life' well enough, but apparently some greater being had taken it much more literally than he ever would have expected.

When Zuko's fire had dissolved during the start of the Agni Kai, it had been when he tried to attack. It was not until he moved to defend himself that the flames moved to his bidding at all, and even that was uncontrolled and sporadic. The dragon fire had only appeared to be under Zuko's control when it was healing him, and Iroh had a feeling that Zuko had not even meant to do that. He also had a feeling that his nephew's odd bending would not go away. If Zuko had been as close to death as Iroh worried, or if he had died completely, as some of the crew theorized, his inner fire would have gone out. While Iroh would not pretend to understand specifics, he could only assume that the fire that had been used to save him had also taken the place of his lost fire within.

It was merely conjecture, but from what he had seen… he worried that the change to Zuko's bending was permanent and internal, that his nephew would no longer be able to consistently attack with his fire. Not as he once had.

Beautiful a thing as Iroh found the concept, he was also aware of the danger. Ozai would never approve, but more than that, he did not know how Zuko himself would handle the change. His nephew was no fool; he would recognize instantly that the Fire Nation would frown upon the idea of using firebending to heal. Knowing Zuko's tendency to beat himself up over things beyond his control, Iroh had no doubt he would think something was wrong with him and that it would take time and patience before his nephew could even begin to understand the value of his gift.

If he ever understood it.

Despite that concern, Iroh was so very tempted to be thankful for the change in Zuko's bending. His nephew needed this. If… if his flame truly did bring life now, if it had changed as Iroh thought, it might be exactly what Zuko required. Aggressive as his nephew was, he also had an ingrained tendency towards helping those who needed it. If Iroh handled this right, he could use these unique circumstances to encourage that tendency. Maybe he could even direct his nephew away from his path of chasing the Avatar—although after he threw Zuko from his ship, Iroh was upset enough with the monk that he had half a mind to capture him himself—and towards a less destructive path.

The odds of doing so were almost in his favor. Zuko's attempts to catch the boy would become much more difficult with his bending seemingly crippled, and his chances of success increasingly unlikely. This would give the young monk time to harness his powers, and it would give Iroh time to help his nephew see that he was worth more than his father's opinion of him.

Of course, thought Iroh, perhaps, with training, he will be able to bend normally again and all this speculating will have been for naught.

While such a thing would almost be a tragedy—healing fire would be such a gift for his nephew, even if he would not able to see it right away—Iroh almost wished that the Agni Kai had been a fluke, if only to save his nephew from facing the challenges that would be presented to him otherwise.

"Then again, I am sure you can handle whatever difficulties come your way," said Iroh to his unconscious nephew. He pulled back from Zuko to look him over once more, shaking his head at how thorough his healing had been. Iroh had panicked when Zhao burned his nephew, had even started crying when Zuko broke down after Zhao repeated the injury he'd suffered at the hands of his father. But now… now Zuko was physically fine. Sure as Iroh was that the encounter would bring back unwanted memories, his nephew had survived it one piece.

It was another beautiful miracle, and again, Iroh wondered what entity was watching over his nephew. He also, with some degree of fear, wondered what would be expected in exchange for these interventions.

Perhaps, he told himself, perhaps Zuko simply has a destiny that the spirits wish to see fulfilled.

The thought comforted him, and heavy as his heart was, he managed to restore his smile as he picked Zuko up and began heading towards his ship.

Before he left, he paused and looked to the soldier who'd presided over the Agni Kai.

"Tell Commander Zhao," he said, "that if he is silent on this matter, Zuko and I will be as well. News of his loss will not spread so long as no one learns of my nephew's… abilities."

"V-very well, General Iroh," said the man, though his eyes were still fixated on Zuko.

Iroh sighed. If this continued, his poor nephew was going to have to get used to such fear, likely from his own crew, nonetheless.

He shook his head. No. He would not make his nephew suffer such at the hands of his own men. They had already caused him great grief by subjecting him to Zhao's mocking, and that was in addition to the heartache Zuko faced whenever he overheard them talking about him behind his back. That would stop. He would speak to the crew. As much of a handful Zuko was to work with, he did not deserve such ill treatment. Perhaps… perhaps if he could work something out with his nephew as well, the men would be more willing to show Zuko respect.

Yes. He would talk to the crew and his nephew.

And then…

Then he did not know. Zuko was unpredictable, and it was even more difficult to guess his reaction after receiving such an unexpected surprise.

Iroh supposed he simply best be ready for whatever happened next.