(A/N hey guys! So this is just so I can keep track of my story in writing on AO3, but have sum fun with it. Comments fuel me! This first chapter wasn't written by me, but was written by another user on ao3 before I adopted it. Everything after this chapter was written by me. Also the cover art was done by a user on ao3, ty!)
Zuko fiddled nervously with the hem of his robes, the words in his throat but his mouth unable to push them out.
"I... um, Mother?" he said finally.
"Yes, my love?" she replied, a kind smile already adorning her face.
"What do those people mean when they call me 'dragon-spawn'?"
Mother's smile wilted, but she did not look away.
"...It means you were blessed by the dragons when you were born," she said quietly. "Those people who call you that believe it is a bad thing, but I promise you it is not. The dragons have marked you for a great destiny. "
"Aren't they supposed to be dead?" he questioned.
Mother's smile turned sad then.
"Yes, my dear. They are. And that is why your life is going to be hard. But just remember that you have their fire in your lungs, my love."
The next day, she was gone.
=====
Zuko growled softly to himself, fangs scraping along his lip. Fuck his family, and fuck him too. He was going to find the Avatar and he was going to go home and then no one would even dare breath at him wrong.
Almost instinctively, Zuko reached up to brush a finger against the scar that blossomed over his eye. It still stung sometimes, but at least he didn't have to wear bandages like when it was new.
The crew had stared at first. That was fine. People always stared at Zuko. He was a monster and people stared at monsters who pretended to be like them.
Mother had never called Zuko a monster. That had always been Azula to her, even though she wasn't the one with scales crawling up her arms and teeth sharp enough to tear through muscle.
He brushed his hand along the rough blankets of his bed, catching his claws in the loose stitching, pulling the threads apart. Zuko didn't care though. It was a blanket. A worthless, disgusting blanket that he was forced to use even though it was thin and useless so why should he even care if it got torn-hurt-killed-
Zuko felt wrong. Off-kilter. Like the world was spinning him around. Like there was blood in his lungs. Like he needed to burn.
The blanket beneath him began smoldering, but Zuko didn't flinch away. He let the heat build up in his palm until the fabric caught flame. Breathing heavy, Zuko sat still as rock while the fire wreathed around him. Its hypnotic dance brought his mind back to some semblance of reality.
Zuko needed to get out. He needed to do something. Needed to be away from the smoke even though it was the very thing that had brought him solace.
Standing abruptly, Zuko cast the scorched rag of a blanket aside. He'd buy a better one once they got out of this frozen waste.
He padded through the rig, foot-falls soft against the metal flooring. Maybe he'd just check the ship's course, make sure they weren't about to run into an iceberg. He wouldn't put it past the crew.
Zuko blinked away tears as he emerged into the bright southern day. It was always so goddamn bright here. The snow and the sky and the water and the ice all tossed the Agni's light around like a game. How the hell did anyone live here? Why would the Avatar be here? What was he doing?
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Pretty Little Monster
Fanfiction(ORIGINALLY POSTED ON AO3 by ME under the username: zimny) Zuko is a monster. He's known this since the moment he was old enough to know. His father had whispered it in his ear as held Zuko's clawed hand in his own. Azula used the word like a whip...
