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.