BATTLE BORN

You never live,

You never learn,

You never shine

If you never burn,

The rising tide,

The undertow,

The famine and

The overflow,

You turn away,

Welcome home.

Chapter I: Zuko Here

Zuko now recalled why he hated airships.

Not only was the turbulence that rattled the framework of the vessel sending shivers down his spine, but there were no windows. He couldn't tell where in the world they were, and that was making him anxious. And claustrophobic.

"Calm down, Zuzu, don't be such a baby…"

His sister's voice echoed in his head, the memory clear as day. He could remember exactly how her ten-year old face had looked as she had snarled these words his way during their first trip by airship.

Azula had always sadistically enjoyed flying. Zuko suspected that was because she felt an uncontrollable desire for power and greatness, and that gliding through the sky above the world had given her a heightened sense of her own invincibility.

Zuko, on the other hand, had always preferred to travel by boat.

When he had received the urgent plea for help from Chief Hakoda, however, he had known that he had to reach the Southern Water Tribe as quickly as possible. And that meant he had to take an airship.

He mentally cursed himself. One would think, having been Fire Lord for three years, he would be accustomed to travelling by now. He still hated it all, being cooped up in small, dank smelling quarters, eaten up by his worries about the destination ahead.

"My Lord?" Commander Ya addressed him with a ceremonial bow.

"Yes, Commander, what is your report?" Zuko replied, returning his bow.

The stocky, bearded man cleared his throat, "I have just been to see the pilot, and he expects we should be making our descent upon the Southern Tribe within the next five minutes."

"Good." Zuko nodded, relief and dread flooding through him all at once. They were almost there, and he would soon be able to obtain physical confirmation that his friends were alive and well. Hakoda had assured him of their safety in his letter, but Zuko needed visible proof to appease his anxiety. The entire journey he had been barely able to catch a moment of sleep, for his dreams had been plagued by visions of a familiar, blue-eyed waterbender and her brother being attacked and killed by fire nation rebels. For the sake of his own sanity, he needed to know that they were alright.

To keep his mind off of the sound of Katara's screams that had been echoing in his ears the whole trip, he had tried to focus on other issues. Perhaps he was reading into things, but ever since he had set foot on the ship, he had sensed something a bit off about his crew. He hadn't known any of the officers until embarking on this journey, but that wasn't what concerned him. As Fire Lord, he had many people under his command, and it was impossible to be familiar with all of them. Perhaps he was being paranoid, what with the fact that mutinous fire nation forces were currently attacking the homeland of his closest friends, but he had been noticing whispers reverberating through the narrow hallways, hushed conversations in the corners of chambers that would cease the moment he set foot within earshot.

Zuko, get it together… You're losing it… he told himself, reaching up to run a hand through his hair before he remembered that it was currently pulled tightly away from his face, secured by his crown.

Deciding that he might as well glean an aerial view of his destination, despite how queasy it may make him, he walked through the corridor to his right that lead towards the railing-enclosed deck that Azula had always been so fond of standing on, hands spread out on either side of her as if she ruled the universe.

Pushing open the heavy, padlocked door, he immediately felt a gust of bitingly cold air thrust against his face with so much force that he almost stumbled backwards. Blinking through the icy mists, he cautiously approached the railing, peering down at the land mass below him.

They were much closer than he had thought. He could make out the shapes of buildings atop the mass of ice, and even some moving figures. They were headed directly towards the intended landing spot, a high cliff of ice with a vast, flat summit on the western coast of the isle that Hakoda had indicated on the map he had enclosed.

Zuko's eyes narrowed as he caught sight of a cluster of red and black war tents in the southwestern corner of the ice mass, with a few large fire nation war ships floating in the water nearby. The rebels. How dare they… he inwardly seethed, his hands gripping the railings more tightly. He must set things right.

As they approached the landing spot with growing speed, Zuko turned to head back inside, deciding that he needed to collect his belongings before they alighted. Once inside, he strode directly to his personal quarters nodding cordially at each crewmember he passed, trying to ignore the sinking feeling he felt in his stomach each time one of them evaded eye contact with him. They're just intimidated, he tried to convince himself as he entered his room, shutting the door behind him.

For diplomatic missions, it was traditional for the fire lord to wear ceremonial garments. This was one convention he particularly despised, as it required him to wear heavy shoulder vestments, and annoyingly long cloak that he was forever trying to avoid tripping on, and far too many layers to move gracefully in. He wondered how his father had ever managed to fight in this bulky attire. Pulling off his everyday armor, he stood by the mirror in his tunic and pants. He pulled off his crown, allowing his long, shaggy black hair to fall down to frame his face. He stared at his reflection, the image reminding him of how he had looked when he had first joined Aang's crusade. He had thought that he had looked haggard in appearance then, but he knew he looked even gaunter now, his face narrower, several creases having already formed in his forehead due to the stress that had permeated the past three years, the beginning of his years as fire lord. I'm only twenty, he reminded himself. In truth, he barely felt any different than he had three years ago as he had flown to the Western Air Temple in a small war balloon, his tendrils whipping in the wind. So much had changed since then.

Sighing, he turned around, making his way towards his chest to pull out his ceremonial robes. He was halfway through unbuttoning the front of his tunic when suddenly the door to his chamer opened, and in walked Commander Ya, flanked by two other officers.

Fear coursed through Zuko. Something urgent must need to be attended to for his officers to barge in like this. "What is the matter?" He inquired, hands already reaching for the dao blades strapped to his back, "Have we been spotted by the rebels? Must we prepare for attack?"

Slowly, one of the officers turned around and locked the door

Something's not right here… Zuko thought.

"My apologies, Fire Lord," Ya snarled in a tone that could only be described as menacing. "It is you that must prepare…"

"For your death."

For once in her life, Katara rose with the sun.

She normally hated waking up early, but the pressing matters at hand required it.

Zuko should be arriving today, she realized vaguely as she pulled on her fur-lined coat, emerging from her room while stifling a yawn.

And boy was she glad of it. If anyone had a chance of crushing the rebel forces that were attacking her home, it was the Fire Lord.

As she walked down the hallway of the massive, multi-room igloo that was the house she shared with her brother and father, she almost laughed at the irony of the situation, thinking back to a time when Zuko's presence in the Southern Water Tribe would certainly have been less than welcome. Now, he was their only hope.

Sokka and her father had scraped up all of the capable warriors they could muster, but after the ferocity of the previous day's attack, most of them were wounded or incapacitated. They were losing strength. Katara forced herself to hold it together, but she could barely resist bursting into tears. Her beautiful tribe, which had just been finishing up the process of rebuilding itself after the damages caused by Ozai's war, was once again under attack.

Pulling her coat closer to her body in defense against the freezing wind, she approached the tent her father had set up just before the cliff that was to be Zuko's landing spot. She knew her brother was probably already there, poring over old maps and books on battle strategy. The night before, she had practically had to drag Sokka away from the tent, insisting that he needed to rest.

"Katara! Katara!"

As if her thoughts had summoned him, her brother was running towards her from the tent, the tail of his wolf-skin cap whipping in the breeze. It was mind-boggling to her that he had so much energy, as she knew that he couldn't possibly have gotten any more sleep the previous night than she had.

He met her, grabbing onto her shoulders as if to urge her to move faster. "Look up," He said, pointing to the sky.

At first, she saw nothing. Then, squinting through the fog, she saw it. An approaching black speck through the clouds.

Zuko was coming.

Zuko leapt immediately into action, his physical instincts registering the danger before his mind could react. He unsheathed his dao blades and dodged Ya's scorching fire blast, nearly having to run up the side of the wall to evade it.

The two officers advanced upon him from opposite directions, but Zuko jammed out the blunt handles of his blades, knocking them both in the head with enough force that they both toppled simultaneously to the ground.

Ya growled angrily.

"You know, Ya," Zuko snarled, "You should learn to be more selective in choosing your henchmen."

"You're one to talk," the rebel commander replied, a mutinous glint in his eye.

He thrust his fists forward and lunged, sending more fireballs for Zuko to dodge. Nimbly avoiding getting singed, Zuko propelled himself with as much force as possible towards the heavy door, kicking it open with a blast of fire from his feet. He raced down the hallway, reminded by the fire blasts he constantly had to avoid that Ya was in hot pursuit.

Breaking out into the main galley of the ship, he stopped in his tracks, finding himself surrounded by what appeared to be the entire crew. They stared at him, weapons at the ready.

"Nowhere to run now, little boy…" came Ya's taunting voice at his rear.

Zuko hesitated for a moment, nearly overtaken by fear. But then he relinquished it, feeling a rush of adrenaline fuel him back into action. Leaping into the air with a flourish, he spun into a backflip, spreading a vortex of fire about him to repel anyone within a seven foot radius. Having caused enough mayhem to warrant a bit of disorientation, he seized the small window of time that their hesitation gave him to bolt towards the corridor he needed to reach, the one leading to the deck.

"After him!" Ya bellowed as Zuko pushed his way through clusters of soldiers, dodging incessant torrents of fire the entire way.

But they were no match for the rouge Fire Lord. This was what he was good at. This he could do. Oddly enough, he welcomed his status as a loner back like an old friend. It was as if he were that banished teenage prince again, fighting his way out of Admiral Zhao's clutches. He suddenly felt more alive and free than he had in years.

Shoving his way through the door to the outer deck, he ran towards the railing with Ya and his cronies at his heels. He stopped abruptly at the railing, turning to face the rebels.

"Nowhere to go now, Fire Lord," the commander jeered, "looks like you didn't think this one through…"

Despite himself, Zuko smirked at the words, highly reminiscent of the ones his wise, tea loving uncle had said to him years ago.

"Yeah, that always seems to be my problem, doesn't it?" he shot back.

At that, he grabbed the railing of the deck and swung himself over it, kicking a parting blast of fire at the dumbstruck rebels just before flinging himself over the edge.

Ironically, as he plummeted towards the icy cliff, his primary thought was: Well, I got my wish.

At least now I'm off that damned airship.

Pacing about the tent, Katara tried to pay attention to the battle plans her father was explaining to the small troupe of warriors that were still in fighting condition, but she was too distracted by her rebellious thoughts.

Hakoda was counting on the battalion of soldiers Zuko would inevitably bring with him, and for good reason. At the moment, the water tribe was sorely out-numbered. Not only did they have so few warriors left, but she was the only bender among the tribe, and although her father, her brother, and Suki were certainly skilled fighters, they were no match against the firebenders, who made up about seventy-five percent of the rebel battalion. If only Aang were here… She thought with a pang for the umpteenth time.

In truth, she didn't know where the air nomad was, and she knew it was her fault that his whereabouts were unknown. She felt the ever-present guilt gnawing away at her insides. After Zuko's coronation, she and Aang had spent a blissful three months together, testing the waters of their new relationship. It had been a sort of honeymoon phase for them, with no one to save and no more battles to fight.

Then they had reached what could only be called a crossroads. A letter had reached her during their stay in Ba Sing Se with Zuko's Uncle Iroh, whom Aang had grown very close with. It had been written to her by her father, imploring her to return to the Southern Water Tribe. Several of the younger children had been showing signs that they might be waterbenders, and Hakoda needed her there to begin training them. Katara remembered how her heart had leapt with excitement at the thought of no longer being the only Southern waterbender, at the thought of passing her knowledge to the younger members of her tribe. In short, she had known that it was her destiny to return.

Aang had had other plans. He had been planning to travel the world, in search of more people to help in the aftermath of Ozai's war. He had explained to her that he couldn't just "settle down" in the water tribe, and that he had a duty to continue helping all of the people of the four nations. And he had been hoping that she would want to accompany him.

"Aang, I have a duty to my tribe, and to myself!" she had exclaimed

"Well, I have a duty to the world!" he had cried back, tears welling in his grey eyes

She remembered how helpless she had felt in that moment, still clutching the letter that had, moments before, caused her such elation.

"What do we do now?" she remembered asking quietly.

"Do what you want, Katara." Aang had sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

The next day, he had left on Appa, and Katara could still feel the warmth of his goodbye embrace, even in the indomitable cold of her homeland. That had been two years ago and she had hardly heard from him since, aside from the occasional letter. In fact, her correspondence with Zuko had become much more frequent than with Aang. She convinced herself that the avatar was simply too busy helping everyone he needed to to write on a regular basis. But then again, Zuko's busy as well… a voice in the back of her mind nagged, Aang can't even spare a moment to write to you? You're supposed to be his girlfriend!

Shaking her head, Katara sighed and tried to force her thoughts back to the present. There was no use in clouding her mind with thoughts of a certain air nomad. Their relationship had been up in the air for two years, and she would never accomplish anything by mulling it over in her head for the millionth time.

Returning her attention to the conversation in the tent, she saw that it had quickly turned into an argument between her brother and father.

"Listen," Sokka was saying, gesturing animatedly with his hands, "If we attack today, it will be the last thing the rebel guys will expect! We can catch them with their guard down! And with Zuko's men, we should have more than enough fire power."

Hakoda sighed. "You are still young, Sokka. We cannot just rush into things like this. The Fire Lord's battalion will need time to get their bearings and then we need to talk with him about what he thinks his force is capable of achieving. I think we are going to wait for Zuko to make the call on this one. After all, these rebels are fire nation. Fire Lord Zuko will have the most knowledge on how to best go about defeating them."

Sokka's mouth dropped open in an almost comical nature, as he thundered back incredulously, "I've spent more of my life fighting people from the fire nation than Sparky has! Besides, for all we know, he's spent the last three years in his office, signing paperwork! I bet he even has an old man belly now! We should be making the call! This is our home!"

Katara giggled despite herself. The image of Zuko with a pot belly was just too amusing to ignore. After shooting his daughter a stern glance, Hakoda returned his attention to Sokka, sighing in defeat. "Let's just wait until The Fire Lord arrives to decide, okay?"

Sokka nodded reluctantly, and after a slight pause, he perked up. "That reminds me! He should be here any minute! Katara and I saw his ship coming a few minutes ago!"

"What?!" The chief exclaimed, "Why didn't you tell me straight away? Come on," he began, standing up and heading out the tent entrance flap, "It's only proper that we get a group together to welcome him. After all, he is the Fire Lord."

Sokka snorted, walking beside Katara to follow their father. "I still haven't come to terms with the fact that that scar-faced jerkbender is the Fire Lord, and it's been three years."

Katara grinned, knowing that, despite his sarcasm and impatience, Sokka was itching with excitement to see their friend. She couldn't blame him, for she herself felt a thrill of anticipation at Zuko's imminent arrival. Sure, they had exchanged letters, but she hadn't seen him in person for almost three years.

Suddenly, she heard a shout from up ahead. For the first time, she noticed that the air ship was almost directly above the cliff now, but it wasn't preparing to land, like it should have been. The shout had come from her father, who was pointing at a figure that was currently falling through the air from the deck of the ship. Her heart leapt with foreboding.

Something's not right…

"Who was that?!" she yelled, racing up to her father, who was breaking into a run himself, headed directly towards the cliff's edge, "Why isn't the airship landing?"

Hakoda gave her a sidelong glance riddled with apprehension, "There must be some sort of struggle going on up there on the ship!"

Katara's heart raced in fear

Please, Spirits, let Zuko be okay…

As soon as he began to fall, Zuko realized that he had made a terrible decision. He was headed directly for the cliff.

I'm going to die… he thought pathetically.

Wait, what would Azula do?

Hit by a sudden memory, he did a backflip in midair, shooting fire out of both of his feet to propel his body perpendicular towards the cliff side.

His body made impact with the ice, and he desperately thrust one of his dao blades into the cliff's flank, holding onto its handle with both hands as he slid down, down, down, quickly at first until the sliding slowed, his blade finally sinking in deeply enough to hold his weight with stability.

He breathed a faint sigh of relief, his body trembling with the effort to keep hold of the sword.

Thank you Azula…

Katara sprinted as fast as she could, dread welling up in her belly as she ran towards the cliff edge, preparing herself to look down and see a crumpled body at the foot of the cliff.

Before she or her father could reach the cliff edge, however, she saw a pale hand emerge over the edge and thrust itself into the snowy ground.

She watched, flabbergasted, as another arm joined it, and the two arms worked together in a wavering effort to hoist up the rest of the figure.

Stumbling shakily to his feet, a tall young man, his trademark unruly black hair rustling in the breeze, clad in a tunic that was nearly entirely unbuttoned, revealing a star-shaped star in between his taut pectoral muscles, raised his head in an attempt at dignity, the ever-present, flame-like scar that marred his face not concealing the strange, humorous light that flickered in his glowing golden eyes.

Before anyone could speak, he took a wobbly step forward, raising one hand in a sort of wave-like gesture, and said three hauntingly familiar words, his raspy voice shaking with the effort.

"Hello, Zuko here."

And then he collapsed.

Hi Reader! You have reached the end of the first chapter!

This is my first Zutara fic ever, so I would LOVE feedback! stay tuned for updates!