Save Me

Author: YolandaFriella

Hi people! Okay, first off, I apologize for my long update! For some reason, I knew you were all expecting seeing Zuko again would HAVE to be spectacular, mind-boggling! So every time I tried writing it, I had to start over because it didn't seem so "brilliant" to me. I hope this'll do, because I think it's been like three weeks since I've updated. WOW! I am terribly sorry for the long wait! I hope this chapter makes up for it, even though I wrote it late at night and half asleep ;p please excuse any mistakes, because I just got back from practice and forced myself to sit down and write this :) Writing, for me, is fun though! So it was worth it ;)

Thanks to my lovely/handsome reviewers: BeautyFlames, Sun Daughter, Jack, Rageful Jewel, Templar of Honor, Th3DarkLord, Marnie Wolffe, Anonymous I Think, Iceblossom22, Dramino-Fan 17, spockjasperzukowriting, imawordbender, and AnnaAza. Thank you all so much for your feedback! Seriously. You guys are what keeps me going ;p

I also noticed that many of you are saying that Zuko was "13" when he was banished, and Ozai sentenced his banishment for three years. I made a mistake in the ages of them, obviously, and I'm sorry but it's too late in the story to go back and change them. Here's a deal, and it may sound childish but it's all I can muster. I say Zuko is 16, and Katara is 14. That's how it is. Bingo! There ya go :3

This chapter is dedicated to Templar of Honor! Thank you for your helpful review, and thank you for helping me out with ideas and such for the story :) I'm so happy beyond words to see that you actually have enough time to review :D

Enough of my rambling, here's the story! If it's not to your liking and you think it plain out STINKS, let me know even though it'll probably hurt my feelings XD

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my OC's. Again.

Chapter Seven: Similar yet so Different

I thought my chest was going to explode.

My mind didn't fully register the newly discovered information, that is, until he leaned closer. "I asked you a question. Answering it would be wise, especially since you're not welcome here."

What could he possibly mean 'not welcome'? His own father sent me here to tend to him! I didn't come here on my own—quite the contrary if you ask me. My breath was stolen away when the flame was surprisingly gone, but then it was directly next to my face. I yelped, my voice sounding louder in the hushed room, and moved so far into the wall that my back began aching. I desperately needed to get away from the fire; I could feel it in my bones.

I first focused my awareness on the flame, dancing eerily in the teenage boy's palm, the soft warmth radiating off of it into my own cooler skin. I then averted my focus on the Prince, who had shadows lingering on the planes of his face, his golden eyes so perceptible that I locked onto them immediately—unable to break the contact. He was closer than I originally thought, his vacant hand leaning on the wall besides my head and his body mere inches from mine. If I took a baby step forward, we'd press together, and that uncomforting thought swarmed within my mind like a plague.

And then my eyes fell upon the scar.

I couldn't help it; the pain was just so detectable to me, seeing how the Prince was cautious to adjust his expression—the scar could crease and the nerves would bash—plus, I could tell he was in constant pain from the glower practically plastered on his face. Either he was trying to be intimidating, or he was just in so much pain that he wasn't able to relax his face. My eyes scanned over the scar, seeing the revolting outline stare back at me, and against my silent commands, my mouth dropped open in a frozen gape. It wouldn't be that bad if the Prince had the scar on his chest, or elsewhere, but having it on his forehead was plainly terrible. For one, everyone who met him would get a first impression. And two, just moving his face would cause him a great deal of pain.

My guarded walls crumbled and a sympathetic spark glimmered in my eyes, and before I knew it, his hands were suddenly wrapped around my neck. He caught the look, and now he wasn't angry—he was infuriated.

"If there is one thing I don't like," He said in a calm yet dangerous tone of voice, "it's people who stare."

I tensed up, my body longing to jerk away but my mind ordering me to stay put—to show no fear to this individual. From the audacious look in his pair of eyes, ones that reminded me of a dragon itself, he was silently daring me to do it. To show him that he was the one in control here; not me. But I refused, which was my inner nature, and stood my ground, looking him dead in the eye. I was a fighter, as well as he.

We both were alike, and we knew it.

"I prefer having personal space," I shot back daringly.

His hands tightened around my neck, and I swallowed heavily. He wouldn't kill me, I know he wouldn't. Besides, I knew he was one of the few people around here that had humanity. Someone who had yet to lose their sanity.

"You must be suicidal, girl, because everyone knows not to just waltz into a room without even bothering to knock. I thought you were an assassin!"

"I thought the same about you."

"I almost killed you." He whispered, as if the word was forbidden to him. Slowly, he retracted his hands from my neck, and the flame was gone, darkness swarming around the two of us fluidly. Relief washed through me like a flowing river, calming my driven nerves instantly.

I heard the rustle of clothing, and the outline of the Prince back away from me. And then he was making his way to his bed, without tripping or running into anything, as if he knew his way around the room without lighting. I was impressed, hearing the sound of the bed squeak, letting me know he was now lying on it, waiting for me.

"Hurry," His voice called out impatiently, "I don't want you in here all day."

"Well I can't help you if I can't even get over there." Right when the words left my mouth I winced. I was speaking to him like another fellow prisoner—someone who wasn't royalty. I waited, expecting him to snap at me or sentence me to a punishment, but when I saw the room suddenly lit, it took me a moment to get used to the brighter lighting. He easily lit a few candles hanging on the walls, crossing his legs as he laid casually, his hands over his head in a lazy manner. I noticed his eyes were watching me closely, and I was forced to hold back a shiver.

He had shoes on, the reason beyond me, and a very informal, casual robe for his attire. I always thought he would dress grandly, seeing he was the Prince and not some commoner, but right now that's how he looked. The robe was closed securely with a golden sash wrapped around his slim waist. Even through the thin material, I could see the bulge of the boy's muscles. Involuntarily, my cheeks reddened, knowing not even the strongest boy in my tribe withheld that toned body. He had his hair in the Fire Nation's custom topknot, secured tightly on top of his head. He noticed me eyeing him, and his scowl increased in disgust.

"Hurry up!" He barked. "And don't you look at me like that, peasant. No wait. I won't flatter you; you're not even a peasant. You're a servant."

I glared at the sneer on his features, and stepped forth, fury lacing my bare teeth. "Well, your highnesses, seeing that I'm so lowly, then why must I tend to you, hm? Why don't you go get someone else worth your time?" I heard him inhale sharply as I turned my back to him, thinking I was going to march through that door. But I was stopped in my tracks when that woman flashed in my mind.

Guilt swelled in my chest, like always, and I turned around. The Prince was smug, seeing my defeated slouch, and held his head higher as I slowly approached him. This time, I avoided the troublesome plate and lightly stepped over it, descending down the couple of stairs leading to his bed. The basin of water stared back at me as I towered over it, the Prince watching my every move in what looked like curiosity.

He's probably never seen a waterbender before, I thought proudly, so this is a first for him. I'll show him just—

"Are you going to stare at the water?" His discourteous voice broke through my thoughts, "Or are you going to bend it? If you can even do that."

I counted to ten in my mind, calming my nerves for the moment. "Trust me, I can bend it." Besides, he should know. He's physically seen me do it before!

I couldn't understand it. He was so nice when he was quiet, but when he opened that foul mouth of his….

"Hold still," I instructed, raising my hands. My shoulder throbbed from the swift motion, a significant reminder of what he could do. He muttered something under his breath; nonetheless, watched me intently.

"It would be nice," He whispered, "if you don't drop the water on me this time."

Despite his hurtful comment, I smiled inwardly. He remembered.

Putting on a playful grin, having no idea where it came from, I replied, "It would be nice if you shut that mouth."

At first I saw his frown twitched, an upcoming smile approaching. But suddenly, the frown deepened and he snarled, "You don't tell me what to do! Just because I'm the one hurting doesn't mean I'm a higher rank than you! I'm a Prince, and you will address me as such. Do you understand, you filth?"

I flinched away. Not only did he admit that he was in pain, revealing weakness to my eyes, but he also gave the small detail away that he must think I'm more important to him. I softened my face, knowing how I acted towards greatly hurt his ego. I then realized every moment I was with him was dangerous, as if treading on thin ice. One false move could throw me back to square one—a perfect example was now.

"I apologize," I whispered, bowing my head obediently to focus on the water. Without a word, I gained control of the water and directed it to the Prince's awaiting blemish scarring his face. His eyes followed the glob of water, widening as if sunk to his skin. My eyes watched his carefully, seeing how they widened from the sudden soothing sensation in his burn, the pain ceasing for a split second. I allowed the water to do its work, my hands glowing a brilliant color for the time, and then finally pulled it away. He was in instant pain the moment the water left him, and that usual scowl was on his face.

I moved the water back to the basin, letting it splatter in violent waves as it returned to its natural state. When I looked back at the Prince, his back was to me, turned over on his side. He was, for some unexplainable reason, hiding from me. I froze, my mind shocked for a moment at his retreated form, until he spoke:

"Get out."

This time, I obeyed without question.

"Do not brood over your past mistakes and failure as this will only fill your mind with grief, regret, and depression. Do not repeat them in the future."

~Swami Sivananda

"I'm surprised you're not dead."

Reeni was the first to speak to me after dealing with the Prince. Shortly after I departed from his room, everyone was done for the day. Reeni obviously had strict orders of showing me how to do things this day, seeing that nighttime was approaching; she showed me how to use the showers, or various other hygiene details. Even though she was still her arrogant self, I could see she had some respect for me—if any. After seeing what I did that day, she looked at me through different eyes.

We took quick showers; well I decided to do so. We had two choices: a bath or shower. And I immediately chose shower, for they had stalls separating. I did not want to be in the same predicament I was previously tangled in. I've always been independent as a child, and I still was.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, instead, ringing out my hair to rid the water in it. I gave in and just bended it out, throwing the water carelessly into the shower stall behind me. A towel was wrapped tightly around my form; Reeni had her own wrapped around her taller form, waiting for me outside in the wash room. A long mirror met us, with a counter lining against it. Many girls, who obsessed over their appearences, lived in front of the mirrors, double-checking their hair, smelling their breath, and basically enjoying their reflection. I walked across the room, ignoring the eyes following my "different" form, with Reeni hot on my heel.

"I thought he'd kill you," She told me honestly as we entered the extra washroom, where fewer girls thrived. I found my clothes in the corner, glancing at my reflection in the mirror.

My hair swam past my shoulders in waves resembling the oceans, my tanned arms looking obvious against the paleness of the towel. Even though my hair was now dry from my bending, it still looked damp from the humidity wavering in the room, ghosting onto the mirror's surface to make the reflection hazy. The "odd" color of my eyes also stood out against my already "different" body, adding to my foreignness. I still looked unhealthily thin; my eyes seemed to sink in the sockets, or my collar bone was poking out from my tender skin. My hair seemed to frame my sunken face, looking more like a curtain—out of control.

Reeni, on the other hand, was in control. Her hair fluttered above her shoulders, in thick strands of straight, raven hair; the color of the night. Not a strand was astray or even sticking out. I found myself envying her perfectly pale skin, or the straightness of her hair. But then I regretted it instantly. We were different. I definitely shouldn't be jealous of her. In my tribe, everything about me was "normal". But here….I wasn't. Even by my very looks I seemed to stand out like a sore thumb.

"Well he obviously didn't," I said bitterly, unfolding my clothes before me. "Because here I am. Standing before you."

"Did you guys even talk?" She ran her hands through her hair, brushing it back against her skull.

I almost told her about how he attacked me at first, but then I decided against it. Judging on her rocky past, I still wasn't able to trust her. "Not really. He was really quiet."

"He must be! I mean, don't get me wrong or anything, but boy's in the Fire Nation are supposed to attend their war meetings at the age of thirteen. However, the Fire Lord didn't let him do it until he was sixteen. He's way older than he's supposed to be."

I paused, that was interesting. "So, he was technically supposed to go to the war meeting three years ago?"

"Yeah. But did you see his face?" To my surprise, Reeni sighed in what looked like a wistful way. I eyed her uncertainly. "He's…so handsome."

I held back a laugh. This had to be the first some someone actually approved of their own Prince, and I'm not exaggerating. "He's alright. I guess I'm used to different ways of looking at guys."

"Are you blind? He's so strong, and serious, and mysterious." She laughed nervously, "I could list things about him, but then it'll take awhile."

Who would've thought that Reeni, the arrogant and self-conceited girl I knew, had a crush on the Prince? I certainly wasn't expecting that.

"What do we do after this?" I decided to change the subject.

"We go to bed."

I visibly relaxed, the thought of going to sleep heavenly. "That sounds so nice."

"Oh, and if you tell anyone what I just told you," Reeni snapped, "then I'll—"

"—I know, I know." I sighed, picking up my clothes to change in a stall.

"I understand."

I was rattled awake in the midst of the late hours.

Trembling quietly, I adjusted to reality, clutching the blankets to my chest out of fear. My breathing was rapid—irregular. Sweat clung to my skin like an added layer, and I felt thankful that I managed to pull my hair back before I went to bed, avoiding the sweat to form in the locks. My eyes scanned the darkened room, seeing other girls and women sleeping peacefully, unlike me.

I closed my eyes, seeing the horrible sight once more. When I was taken from my tribe. I remembered how they knocked over the igloos, the Fire Nation was so furious when they learned that there was still another waterbender in the village, and that my mother lied to their faces. They wanted revenge on innocent people, taking many lives from the brutal attack.

But they found me, and brought me here. To the place I was never meant to be located in.

I shivered, despite the overwhelming warmth fingering my skin, no waft of a breeze whatsoever. Fire raged in my mind—the same fire that claimed children's lives, or the elderly.

I seemed to calm down, my hands loosening on the blanket. The Prince wasn't the only one scarred….I was mentally scarred, just as he was. I saw death before my very eyes, I witnessed the unforgettable scene of a soul detaching from a body. And I stood by helplessly, until I finally caved in and tried to fight back, my only weapon left was to waterbend, which led me to my own imprisonment.

I crawled into the fetal position, wrapping my arms tightly around my legs as I gradually relaxed in the cot. I could remember how two opposites mixed into one: flames burning into the snow. The water tribe colliding with the vicious fire nation. All in a battle for dominance, well for one side, while the other battled for their own lives. It was selfishness against defensive people, who had no desire to gain anything. They only wanted to maintain peace and their lives.

I needed to escape. I needed to get out of here.

Unable to think properly, I was out of the cot in moments, lightly stepping over limp bodies over to the window. I peered out, noticing the full moon staring back at me. My veins reacted instantly, and for some unknown reason, I felt stronger. The moon's light shone on my face as I dwelled in its soothing presence, closing my eyes for a moment to take it in. I preferred the light of the moon over the sun's merciless rays. The moon was a guardian, coming out in the darkest of hours to guide the path of lost individuals. The sun blinded people, physically hurting them. To me, I felt that the moon and I were somehow connected, seeing that I was a waterbender. We had something in common.

I always did seem to notice that I was more awake at night, always unable to sleep easily like Sokka. I never really thought about it until now, feeling the moon's comforting soul above me.

I didn't look back as I climbed through the window, my leg immediately coming into contact with a branch. Unfortunately, it was thin and I thought otherwise, leaning my weight on it. With a hushed gasp, I went tumbling through the darkness of the night, landing heavily into a thick bush of leaves. I sat there for a moment, gathering what just happened, and then finally sat up hesitantly.

I was in a courtyard.

Flowers bloomed around me, except the bushes, several various colors decorating the courtyard perfectly. My eyes trailed around, hearing the sound of water, I sat up more to find a pond in the middle. The grass was a pure green, showing its health with no further notions. Feeling lightheaded, I crawled from the bush into the open, seeing that nobody but me was here at the moment.

So I thought.

And then I, on cue, heard the sound of metal scraping on metal. Curious, my ears perking, I followed the sound with a crane of my neck, seeing a figure across the pond with two swords in their hand. They were swirling them around, as if practicing a lethal weapon.

I lifted an eyebrow, thoroughly curious, and crawled closer, hoping to catch a glimpse of their face. The person used fluid-like movements, was graceful as a sneaky being, and seemed to blend in with the night neighboring them. I continued to crawl, my mind half asleep as I grew closer, the person obviously not having a clue I was there because they continued as if they thought they were alone. How did anyone not hear this? It was quite noticeable that someone was out here—hearing the noise of swords clashing into one.

I was inched from the pond, the ground beneath me squishing as I pressed my weight on it from the water. Squinting my exhausted eyes, I sought out any signs of details. Sadly, the night hid things well, and I could only make out that the person was a guy, seeing how he moved, and that he had pale skin. That was transparent in the darkness, like me sticking out like a sore thumb if I was in a crowd full of fire nation girls. Finally, I gave up on trying to see the person, and just allowed myself to watch them in silence. They seemed so skilled with the swords, slashing the air proficiently as they moved about. From where I was seated, I could see just how he moved—every step he took, or every time he turned around to attack the invisible person behind.

I was so caught up in watching them that I didn't realize how I made a noise when I kicked my feet, trying to get relaxed. The person froze, hearing the noise, and I froze as well.

"Show yourself," He called out in a demanding voice, looking about. I pressed myself against the grass, regretting my rash decision of coming out here. Great. Now I was about to get into real trouble. My breath hitched as my eyes watched him turn opposite of me, his swords hanging limply at his sides. My hair was threatening to fall loose from the bindings, and I prayed to the spirits that it would obey me for just this once.

"I know you're out there!" He accused, his patience thinning, to my horror. I winced silently, grabbing a hold of the grass for some kind of reassurances. I felt his eyes rake above me, and I pressed even closer into the grass.

As I watched him turn his back to me, I quickly, as hushed I could muster, I crawled backwards, being careful not to reveal my hiding spot. I was then covered in the bush, the leaves hiding my body from plain view.

He looked around for a few moments, and I inwardly thanked my luck. How did I manage to escape? Was I truly that sneaky? I stayed put for a few moments, sighing in relief when he shrugged and got back to practicing. Without a further sound, I pulled myself back through the window, with great difficulty, and landed ungracefully on top of someone.

The certain someone jerked awake, whispering, "Hey! What's going on?"

Panicking, I covered her mouth with my hand, and I then realized who it was.

Reeni.

Hey. Zuko here. Yolanda jerked this laptop at me, out of nowhere, and told me to write this. Ugh. She can be so bossy at times. This technology is so interesting. I can do all kinds of things to the writing, but I'll save that for later. Apparently, I'm supposed to leave these little notes at the end of each chapter now. Did I sound like my usual self in this? Haha I know I did, I'm just like that. Ask Aang, he still bugs me about it. Anyway, if you let her know how she wrote with me, I'll point you out. That is, if you're good enough to deserve it.

By the way, Yolanda is a peasant. She's mean.