A/N: My first time writing for the A:TLA series. o.o And I won the weekly contest at LJ's avatar_contest comm with this! Enjoy.

Prompt: Vigil

Characters: Zuko, Ozai, brief mention of Iroh

Warnings: Spoiler as to how Zuko received the scar on his face. Mild violence. Angst.

Word Count: 605

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Small Flame

He pleaded to his father. Begged Ozai to spare him - treat him as a father would a son. Forgive him.

Instead, a flash of flame and searing pain melted his face in agony. He collapsed to the ground, screaming in anguish as the fire ate his flesh. He could only see the sky as he screamed, unable to touch his face in pain, fear, and panic. Yet the thing that truly burned him more, scarred him deeper then the pain in his face ever would, was the sight of his father, from the corner of his un-burning eye, walking away. A look of disgust on his face as he turned away and Iroh rushed to his side.

Zuko died a little inside that day.

Too bad the healers couldn't do anything for his heart.

That night, he sat in his room, most of his face bandaged. He lost most of his left ear, his bandaged left eye a mystery until some of the flesh healed. He may have easily lost the use of the eye, or so the healers had mumbled quietly to themselves, hoping he wouldn't overhear. Bowing his head to the single candle a lit in the room, Zuko kept vigil over the flame. He watched for hours as the candle slowly melted to a pool of wax. In that time, he felt a kinship with the flame - strong and steady in the beginning, but as it melted away, it grew unsteady, unsure of itself. That was how the prince felt then. His flesh had been wax that day. With the flames that had licked his face, he had lost some of his strength; became unsure of himself and his future.

No. There was no future for him now. No matter what he would do or say, things would never be the same.

Hours gone by and the candle dwindled to its end. A small, weak flame fought to stay alive in the liquid puddle around it. It reminded Zuko of his childhood. He had once been a small flame, fighting to stay alight in the world around him. His father... Ozai had loved him like a father should love his son then. Hadn't forsaken him because of his childish mistakes. Tears mixed with the pool of wax as he remembered the time when he had a father that loved him. A very short time, but greatly remembered. Here he was now, a small flame again, crying for his father to help him out of this puddle of wax he was slowly melting into.

There would be no gentle hand of his father this time. Only Zuko. He would have to pull himself out of this puddle somehow. By himself.

Light of morning seeped in through a window. The flame flickered one last time, growing large momentarily as it made one last failed attempt to keep itself alive, before dying out in a puff of smoke. The vigil now over, Zuko wiped the tears from his good eye as he came to a final conclusion. He saw a way out of his failure and pain - he would catch the Avatar and regain his father's love. The little flame was going to give its last struggling attempt to keep alive in the puddle of wax, but Zuko would succeed where the fire had failed.

If only he then could have understood the future of his obsession. Where life would take him from that day on.

Zuko probably would have remained vigil over the puddle a little longer, if only to prolong the last time he would be a small flame.

*End*