Read something this morning about caffine addiction. Apparently what I've been joking about having for what seems like forever now is an actual addiction, go figure. The way I see it though, I never had a chance, I was drinking cafe a'lait in a bottle before I drank water. Hey though, it could have been worse, my parents could of handed me a fifth of whiskey and a cigarette and said "enjoy."

Well, unless I get to writing some more of it this is the last installment I have. (I'm thinking I may continue on with it anyways. What do you think?)

3

The sun was setting fast as they drifted down the river, Zuko's search boat chugging alongside the larger pirate ship. The red tinted clouds and orange blaze of the dying sun reminded Zuko of the day he had found the necklace. When he had watched the sunset, holding the cool and strange comfort in his palm, he never expected the necklace to ever be of any real use.

His eyes scanned the riversides. The captain made some comment about checking the woods. 'Idiot,' Zuko thought to himself, but he said out loud, "They stole a waterbending scroll, right?"

"Yeah," the captain said.

"Then they'll be on the water," Zuko retorted. He was ashamed to have had to accept the help of such lowlifes, but though he'd have been loath to admit it, these men probably had more skill in the area of combat than his crew. That and the fact that they were motivated by their own greed made them formidable allies.

The sky had turned from the fiery light of sunset, to the deep cobalt of midnight before they heard a voice echoing over the dark water. "Come on water, work with me!" came a girl's exasperated voice. 'Poor, little idiot,' Zuko thought, 'trying to teach herself. What's a bender with no master?' A memory flashed in his mind. He was about eight years old, standing on one leg on top flaming coals. He wobbled and swayed, quite the polar opposite of his calm, younger sister, Azula, who seemed completely relaxed in the crane stance over hot embers. His master was scowling at him as he tried to ignore Azula's smug smiles. He remembered falling, scorching his hands and legs, the humiliation of being called out in front of the rest of the dojo, the sting of his master's hand against his check. He remembered the burn of the salt his master forced him to rub into the raw wounds, the pain of moving and training those next few weeks, but those burns were shallow, unintentional, not the kind that would scar a firebender. Not like his father's...

His thoughts broke off as the landed. He still could hear her voice, rebuking herself, the water, the scroll, then she grew silent. Most likely the noisy metallic scraping of the boat on the rocky shore had startled her. They had to move fast. The men split up, slipping silently through the trees, surround the young girl. The first man to grab her was a tall, heavily muscled man. "No! Let go of me!" she shouted, her arms flailing, sending a strong stream of water into the giant's face. Zuko was slightly impressed, she could at least hold her own. Not a petty feat for a masterless bender.

She ran, almost stumbling, into the darkness away from the pirate. Her head turned over her shoulder just a little too long, she found herself running straight at the young prince. He caught her by the wrist. 'Such tiny wrist,' he noted to himself. "I'll save you from the pirates," he said in a low voice, his face harsh and cruel. He could see the fear in her eyes. It pleased him, that fear, that recognition. She struggled weakly against him, her blue eyes filled with panic, but, although he noted that in the moonlight she was as Iroh had said 'easy on the eye,' she was still his prisoner, still his best chance at regaining his honor. 'Focus, Zuko!' his mind demanded. He tied her to a nearby tree, careful to secure her hands behind her back, hopefully enough to keep her from bending.

At first he tried to be firm with her, to demand she tell him the location of the Avatar. She was, after all, in no position to argue, but he did not count on her stubbornness. "Go jump in the river!" she growled. For a moment he contemplated roasting her on the tree right then, but he had one last trick left. He hadn't wanted to have to use the necklace, partially for the stupid, sentimental reasons he couldn't explain, partially because it seemed like a waste of a very good bargaining tool, using it so early. The girl seemed unswayable though and, never having been very good with people in general and girls specifically, he decided to play his gambit.

"Try to understand," he said in what he hoped was a gentle voice, "I need to capture him to restore something I lost, my honor. Perhaps, in exchange, I can restore something you lost." He was so close to her cheek he could have kissed her. His heart raced. She smelled sweet and earthy, her skin, smooth and brown, exotic, forbidden. He pulled the necklace from his pocket, holding it around her neck, smiling in spite of himself at the soft, blue glow of the stone resting against her neck in the moonlight. Then she said something that startled him, "My mother's necklace... How did you get that?"

Her mother's necklace, his soul danced, she wasn't engaged. He couldn't understand why this pleased him so, but it did none the less. "I didn't steal it, if that's what your wondering," he said, almost teasing her. The little thief.

'Focus!' his mind shouted, shaking as though from dream. "Tell me where he is," Zuko demanded.

"No," she said defiantly. Her voice was full of fire.

"Enough of this necklace garbage. You promised the scroll," the pirate captain growled, snapping Zuko back to his original goal yet again.

"I wonder how much this is worth..." Zuko said, holding the scroll in one hand just above a fireball in the other. He relished the look of awe in the Water Tribe peasant's face as he bent the captain to his will, the slightest glint of desire, although he knew it was the scroll she coveted.

In the stillness just before the dawn he found himself standing at the opening of the woods with only Iroh and a young hostage girl, as his men had gone off in a different direction from the pirates to search for the Avatar as well. The girl scowled at him harshly. For a moment he held her gaze, reveling in the deep sapphire color of her irises. They were cool and violent as the ocean he had lived on for close to three years. Even when she was looking at him with murder in her eyes, he couldn't quite reciprocate those feelings, it was odd for him since, being male, he prided himself on his insensitivity. "What are you staring at?" she spat at him, breaking the trance he'd once again found himself in.

"Water Tribe filth," he growled back. Behind his back Iroh shook his head with a deep sigh, no wonder his nephew had never had a woman. There in front of him was a beautiful, if somewhat misadventurous, girl, and he called her filth, the boy would never learn. 'More flies with honey, Zuko," the old man thought. wearily.

"Filth!" the girl shrieked, Iroh saw the river tremble. "Filth! How dare you, you spoiled, arrogant, pathetic excuse for nobility!" The water churned harder.

"I am not pathetic!" Zuko shouted within inches of her face. Years of humiliation and ridicule burst forth to the surface. Was it so easy to read his shortcomings, that even this commoner could see what practically everyone from his kingdom had so long whispered?

"Tsk! Whatever you say Prince Zuko," Katara said then she turned her head haughtily away from him and looked out over the river. Zuko's shook with anger, his fist clinched so hard his nails dug into his palms. Katara, for her part, focused hard on the reflection of the moon on the rippling water. She wished with all her might that she were a powerful water bender, capable of attacking her captures, of beating them. Only water can truly kill fire.

She stayed like that until the sun rose; it's harsh light obscuring the delicate moon from her eyes. Her neck was sore from holding that position for hours, but she wouldn't look at them again. They embodied everything she hated about the Fire Nation, and even if she couldn't fight them, she certainly wouldn't entertain them.

Ahhhh!!!! More Zutara Fluff!!! And horrible writing, I'll be surprised if anyone even wants to read anything I write after reading this junk. Oh well, I may as well warn any loony that gets too attached to this little bit of mush, there are only 3 chapters. Yep, I just can't bring myself to write any more of it.Well, maybe I will, but only when my AWS reaches critical mass. Oh and I don't own anything, not Avatar, not Nick, not Viacom. *sigh* So don't sue me, you wouldn't get much anyways.

***************************************8

He hated shopping even under normal circumstances, but this, this was inexcusable. They should be on the ship, they should be following the Avatar's still warm trail, but no, they were there, in that little, outland Earth Kingdom town, perusing the docks like tourists. Grudgingly he trudged behind Iroh, down the streets crowded with filthy commoners, into equally crowded shops, all in search of a useless lotus tile. He had only come along on this trip to try and make Iroh shop quickly, but that was futile. In all the shops, rather than asking the vendors straight out about a lotus tile he stopped and chatted and browsed leisurely. Zuko's patience was nearing an end when they stopped at a little curio shop on the corner of a narrow street. "Water Tribe Wares," read a small blue and white sign above the door. The walls were cover in savage looking weapons, animal pelts, and strange gods carved out of bone. In this shop too, Iroh laughed and talked unhurriedly with the shop owner, but here, strangely Zuko did not mind so much.

In the nights that followed his discovery of the necklace he had found himself dreaming in blue, of water and ice and most disturbingly of her. Why did she plague him? She was nothing, less than nothing, a tent dweller from a no name village in a frozen tundra. And yet he found her intriguing, and this shop allowed him to look closer into her society, her life, without having to actually demonstrate any interest in her specifically. While Iroh was examining a large wooden goblet, Zuko studied a mask that was hanging on the wall on the opposite side of the shop. It was blue, white, and very similar to the fire festival mask he'd grown up knowing, under this mask he read an inscription, "Mask of the Water Spirit Kasial: This mask was worn by young Water Tribe warriors in sacred ritual before their first battle, it was meant to bind them to the Tribe and imbue in them the power of Kasial, who, according to legend, defeated an entire army single handedly to save his love Iia."

Zuko stared at the fanged mask. His mind played over the words, "...bind them to the Tribe," and without thinking of what he was doing, he took the mask off the wall and brought it up to the clerk. Without Iroh seeing what his was doing, he quickly paid the rather hefty fee for the painted ivory mask and tucked it into one of their overstuffed shopping baskets.

He had been thinking of how he was going to smuggle the mask out the basket and into his quarters without Iroh or any of the other men seeing it, when Iroh ran off to a merchant vessel. Sighing, Zuko reluctantly followed, and upon walking into the musty smelling cabin he found his uncle once again browsing the shop with relish. Zuko was standing off in a corner, still contemplating his little dilemma when something caught his attention. A tall, unwashed man in green was talking with to what appeared to be the captain of the vessel. "We lost the Water Tribe girl and the little bald monk she was traveling with," the man said wearily. He didn't like the looks of these people, they were rough and savage looking, most likely pirates, but where the Water Tribe peasant went, so went the Avatar, and if he could locate her, he could capture him. "This monk, did he have an arrow on his head?" Zuko asked, interjecting himself into their conversation.

At first the looked at him with caution, as though weighing out there situation. This boy in front of them carried himself with all the pomp and vanity of a noble. His speech and manner also told tell tale signs of good breeding, the kind that makes pirates' blood rise. 'So this boy knew the girl, a most unlikely of ally, but then again, that was a very expensive scroll she stole,' the captain thought to himself. "Aye," he said out loud, "she was in here with a young monk with an arrow on his head. What's it to you?"

"She also stole something of mine, and I want it returned," he lied. "If you help me capture the two of them I'll return the scroll to you."

"There were three of them in the group, and if we went to all that trouble of finding her, we could take the scroll back ourselves."

"Like you did just now. Don't underestimate them, they have tricks up their sleeves you wouldn't imagine. But I tell you what, you lead me to them and you can have the other boy for slave trade along with those animals they travel with. A lemur and a flying bison should fetch a nice price wouldn't you say. I know them well, and I know their weaknesses, you help me, I'll help you."

The captain considered this for a moment, scratching his chin with his dirty fingernails. "Sounds like an accord," the pirate chief said holding out his hand. Ignoring the offer, Zuko turned to walk out, saying over his shoulder, "We'll meet you here at sunset, be ready."

Back on the ship, Zuko took advantage of his Uncle's preoccupation with arranging a rubied statue of a monkey to sneak the mask into his quarters. It had that same smooth cool feeling as the blue necklace beneath his pillow. He looked around his simply decorated room for a place to hide this new treasure. There on the wall, above the small altar opposite his bed was a large ceremonial mask of Agni, the fire god. Thinking only briefly of the blasphemy, he slide the mask of Kasial safely behind it. No one would think to look there.

Turning from the masks he looked to his bed, and he got that strange sick feeling in his stomach. Of course he would trade the necklace for the Avatar. She would be more than happy to have her fiancée's necklace back. "Fiancée, feh," he growled as he plunged his hand under the pillow and scooped up the delicate ornament. "Tonight she'll see what a real man is made of."

About6 months ago one of my bestfriends and I were talking about Avatar and wondering why Zuko became the Blue Spirit.My husband being a firm Zutarian, I put the two together... With really cheesy results. Keep in mind this waswritten at about 3 o'clock in the morning.Be prepared for more fluff than a pillow factory.

Okay, time to state the obvious, I do not own Nickelodeon, or Avatar, or any of the characters therein. I'm just a fan, and this is fan fiction. Hope you enjoy.

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Blue Spirit

1

"D@m^ it," Zuko muttered as he looked out across the empty platform. Little clouds of ash blew off the metal deck; in the waning daylight they gave the whole area a surreal look. "D@m^ it," he muttered again, with fists clenched. How often it happened to him, one step behind, one move too late; he was staring out over the ocean fighting the urge to scream in frustration when he saw it.

A flutter of blue on the dusty deck, a banner of beauty on this scar of nature, and in the moment that his eyes caught sight of it, the anger collapsed into a strange aching. It was hers, that Water Tribe girl, the one with the beautiful eyes. Slowly he stooped down and scooped it up, each moment expecting it to disappear like a mirage. The stone was cold and smooth on his palm, the silk band caressed his skin. "She must have lost it in the fight," he thought, his mind drifting unintentionally to the thought of her soft features and her frailty, he worried she might be hurt. Those thoughts only lingered for a moment, but he was disgusted that he had entertained them at all. "This is why you always fail," his mind growled, "you are too easily distracted! You are too weak!" How odd that his conscience so often had his father's voice.

Turning from the sunset he walked back across the deck, back down to his men and his ship. "The Avatar was here," he barked at the captain, "close the gap, he will not escape us again!"

With a silent sigh the captain followed him. He hated this life. A low ranking officer with a poor service record could not have hoped for much, but when he was assigned to this pathetic, little ship; to be lorded over by the tyrannical banished prince, then he knew how truly humble his station was.

"Oh, a Water Tribe betrothal necklace," his uncle said with delight as Zuko passed him in the darkened hallway on the way to his quarters. With a faint look of shock, Zuko found that he was still clutching the delicate ornament. A betrothal necklace, his chest tightened painfully, she was engaged. Iroh didn't take notice of his nephew's discomfort as he plucked the trinket from his fist and examined it closely. "This is fine work, Northern Water Tribe, where did you get this, Prince Zuko?" he asked.

"I found it," Zuko said, "it's for the peasant girl that travels with the Avatar."

"Oh ho," Iroh laughed, "she is easy on the eye. No wonder she's engaged." Scowling, Zuko snatched the necklace angrily from his uncle and marched to his room. Shutting the door with undue force he hurled himself down onto his bed. His eyes narrowed as he looked at the necklace. "Disgusting peasant," he snarled at it. The pendant gleamed and danced with the fire light as the pulse from his palm moved it ever so slightly. It seemed alive and mocking. He shoved it under his pillow and lay his head down on it, closing his eyes. His uncle would surely be coming soon to ask him to join the crew for supper, but he was in no mood to socialize. He had lost the Avatar again, his honor eluding him once more. And yet at that moment his lost honor was not the thing that haunted him. It was the odd pain, the sense of loss at something he didn't even know he had. He cursed himself for his weakness. Had he learned nothing from the past, from her.

In the dark room Zuko breathed gently in his sleep. His eyelids fluttered. Out of the fog of his mind, fire formed. Flames, and the hard grit of the stones he knelt on, a familiar nightmare. Over him loomed the shadowy, powerful form of the Fire Lord. "Rise and fight, Prince Zuko," he ordered. Zuko shuddered, the tears formed in his eyes. He apologized, he pleaded, he groveled, he failed in his role as Prince of the Fire Nation. With no hesitation his father knocked him off his knees, onto his back. The last thing he remembered was looking into the crowd hoping someone would save him, it was then, in that instant, that he saw her. Mai, so tall and beautiful, the love of his fourteen-year-old life. When he had still believed he would be fighting the aged general, he invited her, proud that he would be fighting, no winning, Agni-Kai against a master. But there he was, his father standing over his chest, fear in his tear-filled eyes that searched for a savior. But he found none, only Mai, her eyes filled, not with compassion or horror or tears, but disgust. In the split second before he was blinded by the flames, he saw a cruel smile edge into the corners of her lips. Then pain, indescribable, nauseating pain, shook through his body as the fire ball ripped over the left side of his face. There was the smell of burning flesh. And darkness. Deep, deep darkness.

He woke up still shaking. His hand involuntarily went to his left eye, feeling the bumpy, scared skin, tracing its way back to what was left of his ear. "Suffering will be your teacher," his father's voice echoed. How many things it had taught him. To trust no one, to expect nothing good, to fight harder than his enemy, that there was no such thing as love or compassion. Lifting his pillow he looked at the blue necklace laying against the burgundy sheet. "You'll learn that soon enough," he muttered to it then lay the pillow on it again and tried in vain to go back to sleep.

My AWS has hit new heights... I'm now forum haunting. ARGH!!!!!!!!!!!!! *sigh* I'm starting to loath myself. Addiction, it's just sad.