I apologize about taking so long to post new chapters. With school and it being the holiday season now, things can be pretty hectic.

The section in italics is a flashback, BTW.

Warning: slightly descriptive violence and some mentions of adult themes

It was completely quiet on the deck, save for the sound of blowing wind and waves crashing against the hull of the ship. Katara poured herself a cup of tea. She was tempted to try and bend it right out of the pot, but Zuko was right there and he looked so tense already.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

Zuko didn't answer. He was staring past her, looking out onto the sea.

"Yes" he said so softly she had to strain to hear him. "I think something is."

He gestured and Katara looked over her shoulder. Coming towards them was a large wooden ship, though it was still hardly a quarter of the size of their warship.

"Pirates." Zuko stated. He looked back at Katara. "Go back in your room. Stay there."

"Why?"

"Katara! Do what I said. Just trust me; you don't want to deal with pirates."

Katara had jumped slightly as he said her name. It wasn't the sharp tone he'd used; more the fact that she still wasn't used to him saying her name. A lot of the time, mostly out of habit, he referred to her as 'waterbender'.

When she still hadn't moved, he grabbed her arm and started to drag her towards the stairs.

"Go!" His voice was the same he used when issuing orders to the crew.

Katara started towards her room. Already, the men were bustling about and headed for the deck. Why were they so concerned about one ship? It was so much smaller than theirs. How could Zuko be sure the people on the boat were pirates? What made them so bad?

She'd made her way to her room, shut the door, and sat on the bed. She only stayed there for a moment before she began to pace in frustration. An ear-splitting banging noise came from above and the whole ship seemed to shudder in response.

Katara realized she too was shaking, and she sank down on the bed again. What was that? A chorus of shouting followed the bang, accompanied by clashing metal.

Forcing herself not to shake, Katara rose from the bed and make her way out the door. She paused at the washroom, filling a cup with water. Careful not to spill a precious drop, she made her way back up to the deck. A horrifying sight met her eyes.

At least two dozen men, all dressed in a mix of clothing, were attacking the crew. The pirates were armed with swords, knives, and unusual looking weapons that she'd never seen before. The Fire Nation fought back with their own weapons and fire.

Across the deck she saw Zuko locked in a swordfight with a pirate. Zuko kicked at the man and he fell. With a slash of Zuko's blades, his head became severed from his body. The headless corpse fell forward, blood spurring from the opening. Zuko leapt over the body and kicked a wave of fire out at another opponent.

Screams filled the air as the pirates were beaten back. Some vainly tried to make their way off the ship, only to be cut down or burned before they even reached the sides.

Katara felt sickness rise in her throat at the sight of all the blood and lifeless bodies. She took a few deep breaths and swallowed. She managed to hold back from heaving her breakfast, but her knees buckled underneath her and she sank onto the floor. She took another breath and closed her eyes to the horror, leaning against the doorframe.

A feeling that she was being approached forced her eyes to snap open and for good reason. A burly pirate, wearing only a pair of rough blue pants and a single, gold, hooped-shaped earring, lunged towards her, a broadsword over his head and a wicked half-grin, half-snarl on his face.

Katara gasped and without thinking threw her hands up. The water she'd previously gathered responded and flew towards the man. It settled on him and firmly fastened on as each drop of water hardened into crystals of ice. Katara's jaw dropped as she realized she'd just frozen the man alive.

The sounds of the fighting were deafening. The entire deck was slick with blood it seemed, and corpses of the attacking pirates were strewn about. Katara leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes again.

"Katara!" She jumped as she felt hands grasp her upper arms and her name being called. She forced her eyes open and wondered for a brief moment if she had fainted. The fighting was over and everything was suddenly as silent as it had been before the attack.

Zuko was the one grasping her arms, kneeling in front of her. His face was completely twisted in rage, but when she looked in his eyes, they softened and she could have sworn she saw, wait, was that…worry? There was no way he had been worried about her!

"I told you to go to your room!" Zuko snarled through gritted teeth. "Why didn't you listen to me?"

"I…I wanted to help." She gestured at the frozen pirate.

"You could have gotten hurt. You could've gotten killed! You don't know how to fight; the battlefield is no place for you."

"Why do you care?" she snapped back. "Not that long ago you didn't care if I jumped off the side of the ship!"

Zuko opened his mouth to speak, then paused. "It's not that I care about you, believe me, I don't; it's that you didn't listen to me. That's why I'm angry!"

Katara snorted in disbelief, not caring how inelegant it sounded. "If you don't care, why'd you tell me to go to my room? Why'd you start yelling about how I could have gotten hurt?"

Zuko hissed. He looked so angry Katara half-expected steam to come out of his ears.

With a snarl on his face, Zuko turned and began issuing orders about getting the mess on deck cleaned up. His was in a terrible mood now. Pirates had attacked his ship and he'd been forced to kill again. It was in defense of himself and his men, but still. Zuko didn't like killing and he didn't do it unless he absolutely had to. His mind went backwards, however reluctantly he wanted it to, to a time when he experienced his first taste of bloodshed.

Irritated, then fourteen year old Zuko made his way through the dark, nearly deserted streets of the port-of-call town they'd docked in. He'd woken up that morning in a bad mood and stayed that way simply because he could. He was nearly to where the ship was docked when his path was blocked by three large men. He'd heard them earlier; loud, boisterous drunks chasing barmaids and picking fights in a nearby bar. They laughed as they came closer and the smell of the alcohol on them was overpowering. They were so drunk it was amazing they could stand upright and walk.

One of the men laughed. "Wha' we have 'ere, boys? Looks like a young 'un."

"Little boys shouldn't be wanderin' 'round afta dark. Go home to mama." another jeered.

Zuko's already bad mood intensified as the drunks mocked him.

"Get out of my way!" he scowled.

The men laughed and Zuko became uncomfortable at how close they were getting. Instinctively, he went into a fighting stance, knees bent slightly, one palm facing the men, the other hand drawn back into a fist. "Back off!" he said, trying to sound threatening.

They ignored him and assumed drunken fighting poses that would've looked sloppy even sober.

Zuko groaned mentally. Dammit, he did not want to have to hurt the idiots!

The men all lunged at him. It was easy to just dodge; they staggered about, unable to touch him. The only problem was that he was outnumbered and every time he tried to get away from them, another one was there.

It felt like a game, and was almost funny, except for the fact they were attacking him.

Then the knife came out.

He saw the light glint off of the blade. The man holding it, the first one who'd spoken, lunged forward, knife aimed for Zuko's abdomen. He dodged and years of training kicked in. Go on the offensive. Get your opponent before they get you.

Jab here. Duck. Dodge. Hit him there. One behind, MOVE!

Zuko sidestepped to the right, just getting out of reach of a drunken fist. He lunged forward and a few stabs of his fingers in the right places made the man drop limply to the ground. He turned on the other two. The one without the knife was slightly skeptical, seeing his fallen companion. But he attacked anyway. Zuko dodged the man and brought his hand down, chopping between the shoulder blades. The man flinched in pain and staggered. Zuko struck again, fist connected to the man's jaw. His eyes rolled back in his head and his dropped, unconscious.

Only one left now. The man with the knife feinted, then stabbed to the right. Zuko had the knife Uncle had given him on his person; he never went anywhere without it, even kept it under his pillow when he slept. He was loathe to draw it out though.

He could've firebended. But that might draw even more attention, and open port or not, most people didn't like firebenders.

Instead he just dodged and attacked the best he could, avoiding that shape piece of steel. He was a member of the Fire Nation Royal Family; they were known for their proud warrior's prowess. He'd been trained in fighting techniques and martial arts since he could walk. He would not be cut down by this drunken peasant.

He mentally cursed as the man momentarily got the upper hand and knocked him down. Zuko looked up. The man stood over him, knife raised, ready to finish the fight.

Zuko knew he was staring Death in the face. He was a failure then, wasn't he? Prince Zuko, son of the Firelord, cut down by a mere drunken peasant. His father wouldn't be in this situation. Azula wouldn't be in this situation. She'd have burned them all to a crisp as soon as they looked at her.

Fire mentally and physically raged. The bright orange and yellow inferno shot from him hand onto the man's face. He screamed. The knife dropped uselessly to the ground. The man continued to scream and vainly tried to pat the fire out. He failed, only managed to make it spread. Zuko sat up and watched, slightly sickened, as the man burned to death before him.

The scent of burning flesh brought back horrifying memories and he forcibly pushed them back into the corner of his mind.

Uncle found him after what seemed like an eternity, curled up against a wall, unable to tear his eyes off the blacked corpse. He'd done that. He'd ended a man's life.

It was all blurry as Uncle comforted him, brought him back to ship, checked him over for injuries, and sent him to bed, after giving him "something to make you feel better". Zuko didn't ask want the liquid was; he didn't want to know, though he suspected alcohol.

His last thought before falling asleep, as horrible as it was, was that his father might actually have been proud of him for doing what he did.

Zuko shuddered at the unwelcome memory. There'd been times after that he'd killed, too. This wasn't the first time his ship had been attacked. Pirates had become even more common in the last century as men became desperate. Zuko definitely wasn't going to mention the Water Tribe warriors that had tried to attack them once. Luckily, that encounter had ended before any blood could be shed and each group had gone their separate ways. Then it hit Zuko. Katara said her father was the chief of the Southern Water Tribe. Those men had been from the Southern Tribe. He groaned. Now the man's only daughter was on his ship. He wasn't doing a very good job with diplomacy, was he?

Zuko made his way towards his room. The bodies had been tossed overboard and the blood could easily be mopped up.

"Zuko" Katara's voice cut through his thoughts. She'd followed him.

He turned to her. "What?" he sighed.

"Um, I…" She gasped. "You're bleeding!" She pointed to his arm.

Zuko looked down. A cut a few inches long ran diagonally across his upper right arm. A thin line of blood slowly trickled out of it.

He tried to shrug the injury off. "It's just a scratch. It'll be fine."

"Zuko let me help. It could get infected or something."

He sighed again and went into his room. Sitting down on the bed, he pushed up his sleeve to show her the wound. Katara gathered a small amount of water in her hand and placed it over Zuko's wound to clean it. Suddenly, a shimmering blue glow surrounded Katara's hand. When she pulled away, the wound on Zuko's arm was gone.

Zuko looked down and examined his arm. "What'd you do?" he asked in surprise.

"I…I don't know. It just happened."

"You have healing abilities" a voice from the door said.

They both jumped. Iroh was standing in the doorway. "You have healing abilities" he repeated. "There are some benders in the water tribes who have this ability. Women in the Northern Water Tribe who can waterbend are taught to use it to heal. I've never seen someone do it without learning, especially at such a young age."

"Uncle? How do you know about the waterbenders?"

The old firebender smiled and his eyes glinted. "I've been around in my lifetime and learned a thing or two. Sometimes learning about other people can help you learn more about yourself." He placed a hand on Zuko's shoulder. "Are you alright?"

Zuko nodded.

Iroh turned to Katara. "And what about you, young waterbender? How'd you like your first taste of battle?"

"I…um. I don't think I liked it at all." Remembering the fighting made her feel queasy. She would have sat down on the bed, except it was Zuko's and he was sitting there.

Iroh smiled reassuringly. "Most don't really enjoy fighting. For those that have experienced it, it's not all that glorious and honorable as it seems on the outside. He patted her shoulder, then left the two of them alone, shutting the door behind him.

Trying to think of something else, Katara examined the room. She realized she'd never been in Zuko's room before. It was slightly bigger than hers, made of the same metal walls and floor. The layout was similar as well. The bed, slightly bigger than the one in her room, was against the wall. It had crimson red sheets with a black fur blanket neatly folded across the end. A bamboo nightstand stood next to it. Along the wall, by the head of the bed, was an unusual piece of furniture. It was like a table, but not as wide, and low to the floor. Five candles were arranged in a line on top as well as a container holding cinnamon-smelling incense. She realized it was an altar. Hanging over it was a strange theater mask of a two-headed dragon with blazing gold eyes, one head blue, the other red. There was a chest for clothing opposite the altar and some neat stacks of books. A woven bamboo rug lay on the center on the floor.

Katara moved over to examine he stack of books. She couldn't tell what most of the titles said, but the picture on the cover of the one on top caught her eye. The book was bound in reddish-brown leather with gold characters on the front and spine. The picture was of a man and woman in a tangled embrace. Behind them, the heads of two dragons, one red, one blue, loomed.

"What's this?" She showed it to Zuko.

He took the book and chuckled. "Love Amongst the Dragons. It's a romantic drama."

Katara stared at him. She never thought that Zuko liked to read; much less that he would read something like that. It sounded more like something women would like.

Zuko must have sensed what she was thinking because he said quickly, "It was my mother's favorite story. I brought it because she used to read it to me when I was little. Except she skipped over certain parts."

"Why'd she skip some of the book?"

"Because that's a copy of the original version. It's very…raunchy. I found that out the hard way when I read it myself when I was twelve. When it came out centuries ago, the author was forced to rewrite it and make it more appropriate."

"I don't get it. What could have been a book that was so bad?"

"I'd read a part to you… but it might hurt your innocent ears."

Katara sighed. "Zuko, I've heard bad words before."

Zuko grinned. "I'm not talking about curses. I'm talking about, well…sex. There are descriptions of some sex scenes in the book."

Katara's eyes widened and Zuko's grinned widened. "Oh" she gasped. "People actually write about that?"

Zuko laughed. "Yeah, you'd be surprised."

"Oh" Katara said again. She looked at him. "And you read that stuff?"

"Um…" Zuko started to speak but was interrupted by a knock at the door.

Zuko leapt up and opened the door. Jee was standing there.

"Sir, I think this is something you sound see." Jee pulled out a scroll and unrolled it. Katara gasped.

The scroll was beautifully designed, though somewhat yellowed with age. But what captivated her was what was on the scroll: pictures of waterbending.

"We found it in what I guess would have been the captain's quarters. I assume they were going to sell it to the highest bidder."

Zuko nodded. "What else would they do with a waterbending scroll?"

"What should we do with a waterbending scroll, sir?" As Jee said this, he glanced at Katara.

Zuko took it from him. "I'm sure we can find some use for it."

Jee left and Zuko passed the scroll to Katara.

"What's this for?"

Zuko shrugged. "What am I supposed to do with a waterbending scroll? We agreed you could practice. This might actually make you good at waterbending."

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?"

Zuko grinned wearily. Then the smile faded and he went over to his nightstand.

"Here. While I'm in a generous mood…" He held up the necklace he'd found weeks ago.

Katara gasped. "My mother's necklace!"

Her mother's?

Katara rushed over and snatched the leather choker out of his hand. "Where you'd find this?"

"At that earthbending prison a while back. I remembered it was yours."

"It belonged to my mother." Katara said quietly. In an even softer tone, she added "She was killed by the Fire Nation."

Zuko was taken aback. "I'm sorry." There was an awkward pause after that.

When Katara didn't response, Zuko spoke. "My mother's gone too."

Katara tore her eyes off of the necklace and looked at him. "She is?"

He nodded. "When I was nine. She just disappeared. I don't know what happened to her or if she's even alive." He shrugged sadly. "At least you haven't had to spend years wondering. You knew."

"Zuko." Katara said softly. She couldn't believe it. She felt sorry for Zuko. He'd had a mother and she was gone. He clearly missed her.

He had feelings. He was…human.

Katara felt a little guilty. Sick even. To her, him, and all the Fire Nation equaled monsters.

000000000000

That night Katara lay on her bed, looking at the scroll. She was fascinated by it and even excited when she realized she could read parts of the wording on it. Maybe she could just practice the gestures and learn the moves. She mentally reminded herself to try it tomorrow. There was one move-the water whip-that looked like fun. While getting ready for bed she entertained herself with the thought of 'accidentally' using the water whip on Zuko. Mean, perhaps, but still too funny to resist even imagining.

A full moon that night pulled at her, making it difficult to sleep. She finally gave up and went out on deck.

A cool sea breeze greeted her. And in the moonlight, she noticed someone kneeling on the deck. As she got closer, she was surprised to find it was none other than Zuko on his hands and knees, scrubbing at deck furiously.

"I didn't think His Highness did chores" she said playfully.

Zuko's head snapped up. "Oh. Hi."

"Hi." Katara smiled. She never imagined Zuko scrubbing. The thought was almost as entertaining as the water whip.

"I couldn't sleep. I thought I'd do something useful." Zuko said.

"I couldn't sleep either." She went over and sat on a dry spot near him.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked.

"Because…I hate fighting. I hate killing. I hate the blood that's left everywhere when it's over."

"If you hate fighting, then why do you do it?"

"Because sometimes it's necessary. Today was life or death. Today was necessary."

Katara knew if Aang was there he'd talk about how all life was sacred and killing was wrong no matter what. He and Zuko were completely different, she realized.

"I know you say I'm a monster." Zuko was saying. "And sometimes I'd agree with you. When I kill someone, I feel so guilty. I think 'What if they had a family? Kids? I may have taken away someone's father, husband, son, brother, nephew, cousin." Zuko started to choke on the last word.

"I know what it's like to lose someone to this war. My cousin died at Ba Sing Se. That happened just a few weeks before my mother left. He and I were close. He was like my big brother. Things weren't the same afterwards. Everything changed for the worst. I can't remember the last time my family was actually happy." He paused for breath. "Sorry. I started ranting. I just needed to get it off my chest and you're so easy to talk to…I mean I barely know you, but you just sit there and look at me with those big blue eyes…"

Katara felt her cheeks burning and wondered if Zuko's were too. It was hard to tell in the dark.

"We're more alike than you think." Zuko said. "I'm a firebender, but I like the ocean."

"You do?" Katara asked in surprise.

Zuko nodded. "Yeah. I mean, the Fire Nation is an archipelago-"

"A what?"

Zuko smiled. "A group of islands. We're fire, but we're surrounded by water. It's funny."

Katara smiled. It was kind of funny.

"Do you ever pray?" Zuko said suddenly.

"Huh?" The question seemed so random.

"Do you pray? To the spirits? Sometimes I do. My mother…she taught me and told me stories about spirits. She taught me how to pray. She told me that the spirits lived in the Spirit World but could look into the physical world and even cross over into it during solstices and equinoxes. Except for the Great Spirits. They're powerful enough to come and go as they please."

"Zuko?"

"Hmmm?"

"You're ah, kind of rambling, again. I think."

"Am I? Sorry, it's late. I don't always think so well when it gets too late. I need to sleep."

"We should probably go to bed then." Katara stood up. "We can always talk about the Spirits later."

"Maybe we shouldn't. Uncle said the spirits don't always like people talking about them and…"

Whatever else he was going to say stopped as Katara placed her fingertips against Zuko's lips. They felt warm and were surprisingly soft. "Zuko. You're rambling again. Go to bed. It's late."

"Oh yeah. Sorry."

They bid each other good night and made their way to their rooms. But for hours later Zuko laid awake in bed. He thought about what he'd said to Katara. He thought about the feel of her fingertips against his lips. They were soft and cool, their touch comforting, much like the feel of water of his skin. When he finally did fall asleep, he could still feel them, as if they were still there.

Not completely irrelevant with the chapter, but does anyone know why Aang said he looked up to pirates in "The Waterbending Scroll"? Because pirates cheat, steal, and fight; all things against his airbending values. Did anybody get that? Then again, Aang has done all of those things himself.

Also, if Zuko seems too OOC from his canon self, that's how I want it. I hated how in the first season he is portrayed as simply a stubborn, angry, stupid, brat-prince and that is mostly the only side we see of him. We get a slightly better picture of him later on, but it still irritated me how clueless he seemed in book 3 around Azula and such. You'd think he'd have learned. I'm trying to make him a bit more like a teenager (just one whose royalty and can kick major ass in a fight ), but I still want him to be mature. I don't see how one could travel around the world with the Dragon of the West and not learn any military tactics or anything like that. I hate in the flashback of "The Storm" how Zuko is, at thirteen, saying "Don't you think I need to start learning as much as I can?", yet Azula, at fourteen, was already to be crowned. I know she's a prodigy and all, but still. So what was Zuko, as crown prince, learning if not how to run a country? So just so you guys know, Zuko is going to seem a little different, maybe even darker, for lack of a better word, in later chapters. You'll see what I mean. Sorry I started to ramble a bit.

I think this may be the longest chapter I've ever written. I'm pretty excited about that!