Author's Note: It's been a long, long time since I attempted writing any kind of fanfiction, but I have to say, I'm pleased to have finally been struck by inspiration after all this time. This is my first attempt at an AtLA fanfiction, besides, so I'm sure it'll be a good opportunity to practice my skills, particularly characterization.

I can't claim credit for the idea of putting Zuko as the Avatar. I read beeftony's fanfiction of the same plot device and I was greatly inspired. Besides that, I'm sure plenty of other people have done some variation of the idea. However, I hope that most of you readers will approve of my rendition. These first chapters will probably start off short and grow in length when more action comes about.

As stated in the summary, this will eventually be a Zutara fanfiction, but if you're afraid I'll bash your favorite characters, fear not. I love most of the characters of the AtLA universe including the Gaang and Azula's group. I don't bash Kataang or Maiko, so please don't worry. Most of the canon pairings will probably be touched on in at least some way during the course of this fic. I'm hoping to keep everyone as in-character as possible, so if you want, let me know how I'm doing.

Reviews are really, really appreciated! Let me know any constructive criticism you might have, any parts you liked, didn't like, thought were funny, etc.!

Air. Water. Earth. Fire.

My grandmother used to tell me stories about the old days, when the Avatar kept balance between the Water Tribes, Earth Kingdom, Fire Nation, and Air Nomads. But that all changed when the Fire Nation attacked. Only the Avatar mastered all four elements; only he could stop the ruthless firebenders. But when the world needed him most, he vanished. One hundred years passed, and during that time three more Avatars passed through the world, but none of them ever mastered the cycle of elements; all three were ruthlessly destroyed. The Fire Nation is nearing victory in the war. Two years ago, my father and the men of my tribe journeyed to the Earth Kingdom to help fight against the Fire Nation, leaving me and my brother to look after our tribe. Some people believe that the Avatar was never reborn into the Fire Nation, and that the cycle is broken. But I haven't lost hope. I still believe that, somehow, the Avatar will return to save the world.

Chapter 1: The Patrol

"This place is a wasteland."

"I do not think so, Prince Zuko. There is really quite a bit more out here than meets the eye."

"Uncle, there is literally nothing here! It's all snow and ice! There's no Avatar here; there aren't even any people here!"

"But, you must admit, it is all a rather stunning view. The South Pole is beautiful perhaps because there has been so little human interference here."

The young firebender glared at his uncle who was, in his own opinion, being infuriating simply for the sake of it, but chose not to respond. Instead, he simply muttered under his breath a bit, and snippets of phrases like, "Can't believe this…" and "banished to the middle of nowhere…" were audible, but he stuck his good eye to his spyglass and chose to pretend as though the conversation hadn't taken place at all.

Iroh, the boy's uncle, looked his nephew up and down before sighing, then folded his hands placidly to rest on top of his rather overlarge stomach. "Happy birthday, my nephew," he said after a few more moments of near-silence.

Zuko looked away from the spyglass, his features softening for the first time that day. "…Thank you, Uncle." He bowed slightly, unsure of what else to say. He knew he was rather impatient, even somewhat rude, with his uncle, but the man never seemed at all aggravated by it. Instead, he did things like remember Zuko's birthday even when no one else on the planet did. Even when he was stuck out in this frozen wasteland with no contact from any family member, for what was sure to be the third consecutive birthday of no consequence. Without realizing it, his features hardened back into another scowl. "It's just not much of a birthday when I'm here, out in this place feeling useless, instead of searching somewhere back home, where I might actually have a chance at finding the Avatar. I can't find him here. I'll never get my honor back on these stupid 'patrol duties.'"

"You know, destiny is a funny thing, Prince Zuko. Perhaps this birthday of yours will bring more changes than you think."

"Yeah, well, the only change I want to see is on that horizon. I want to see my home again, my family. I want my honor back."

As much as he cared for his uncle, he didn't wish to hear any more of his sage-like advice for the moment, so he gave another respectful bow to the man, then turned on his heel and headed back to his quarters onboard the ship. Perhaps his uncle would think he was resting. But out here, patrolling these icy South Pole seas on this run-down ship with no hope of returning home, he never felt particularly rested.

A few hours later, Prince Zuko got his wish—but only partially. The horizon did indeed change, but only physically so. The change wasn't particularly beneficial to the ship or its residents; the sky darkened, the winds picked up to a dangerous level, and the waves underneath them became choppy, reflecting the same iron-gray of the sky, the ship, and the young prince's mood. It certainly wasn't the change he'd been hoping for, in any case, and when he walked back out on deck, it was while wearing a scowl to match the low-hanging clouds.

"It appears as though we are in for quite a rough storm," Iroh observed.

"Our ship has been through worse than this before. We can last it out." Although he didn't state it out loud, it was clear that Zuko's meaning was that the ship had better last it out. Or else.

He'd had enough of things not going his way. It was about time karmic retribution found someone else to dump on.

From the look on his uncle's face, however, he gathered there was more to it. Eyes narrowing suspiciously, he asked, "Why do you look so worried about this storm?"

The older man sighed, apparently reluctant to be the bearer of bad news. Better him than one of the crew, though. Everyone onboard knew that Prince Zuko was far less likely to threaten to throw his esteemed uncle off the ship rather than some minor and unimportant crew member. "Well, you see…please, try not to overreact, Prince Zuko—"

"I'm not going to overreact, Uncle! You've already told me that that's not what future leaders do."

"Alright, then. The crew recently discovered a…leakage on the ship."

"What?" As Iroh had feared, his nephew took the news badly. Flames momentarily erupted out of his balled fists and smoke issued from his nostrils. As per usual, he still was not quite ready to repress his frustration and impatience when receiving news he didn't wish to hear. "That's not possible!" he snapped. "What else are the maintenance crew for?"

Iroh winced. "Yes, er, the thing is, Prince Zuko, you haven't allowed the crew to pull into port for a long time now. The crew hasn't been able to examine the ship in full detail while we are always sailing, and apparently there was a rust build-up. The rust wasn't caught in time and…we now have a leak."

"Well, have them fix it!"

"I am afraid we cannot on such short notice. And we are too far away from the nearest Fire Nation naval facility; the leak would do too much damage before we even arrived. If you want the ship repaired, Prince Zuko, I am afraid we must seek shelter elsewhere. We cannot hope to even weather this storm with the ship in such a condition."

Zuko snarled, fire once again momentarily rising up from his fists. It subsided as he turned his back on his uncle, moving to stand in front of the ship's telescope and focusing it on that seemingly endless, bleak expanse of ice. He was silent for a few long moments, peering through the glass intently with his good eye. Finally, he walked away from it, turning a stern gaze back onto his uncle.

"Well," he said, "I think I found us some shelter."