Disclaimer: Avatar: The Last Airbender and all characters and other Avatar world details are © Michael Dante DiMartino & Bryan Konietzko, Viacom. No money is made by writing and publishing this fanfiction.

Little Hero

"Miss Kiyo?"

The handmaiden looked back quickly at the little prince across the hall. Her shaky breath echoed off the silent walls, limbs frozen in fear. Not that she could have moved had she wanted to.

"Prince Zuko," Ozai frowned, nose wrinkling in irritation as he held the girl's wrist tightly in his grip. "Shouldn't you be in bed?"

The six year-old bit his lip. "I, um, wanted to see Mother about—"

"Well move along, boy!" Ozai snarled, tugging the young woman forcefully in his wake before reaching the door to his chambers. She stared at her feet, lower lip trembling more with each forced breath.

Brows furrowed in confusion, Zuko took a few steps away before turning around. "F-Father, why—" He stopped as Ozai's stare pierced into him. Swallowing roughly, he went on. "I-I was just wondering…is Miss Kiyo well?"

Ozai's annoyance suddenly melted into a strange amusement. "Oh, she's quite well," he said, licking his lips as he glanced at the girl beside him. "Isn't that right?"

Kiyo, not daring to lift her eyes, turned her head almost imperceptibly towards the young prince and gave a silent nod. Before Zuko could respond, Ozai had pushed open the door and pulled her inside.

The sound of a heavy door sealing shut was still ringing Zuko's ears as he moved quietly towards his mother's chambers. Confused as he was about what he'd seen, he couldn't shake the terrible feeling it left in his chest.

"Zuko, what are you doing awake?"

Zuko stood outside Ursa's door, staring at his feet and wringing his hands together. His original intentions were suddenly forgotten; all he could see in his mind was a young woman's look of terror before a door slammed in her face.

"Mom," he started quietly. "…Why is Miss Kiyo with Father?"

Ursa was suddenly down at his level, her hands grasping his shoulders tightly. "What did you say?" she breathed anxiously.

"Miss Kiyo…she went with Father to his room, instead of yours. Is she helping him get ready for bed instead tonight?" he asked in innocence.

Zuko felt his mother's hands begin to quake against his shoulders, a quiet gasp escaping her throat as she turned her head in the direction he'd come from.

"Zuko, go back to bed," she said suddenly, standing and sprinting past him into the hall. The child watched her with wide eyes as she disappeared in the darkness, frozen in place for a long moment before gaining the courage to obey.

"Ozai, stop."

The man whipped his head towards the light spilling into the dark room, eyes glaring daggers at the woman in the doorway. "Ursa. I could have your head for coming here uninvited."

Ursa sensed the emptiness in his threat, though she still forced her hands into fists to stop their trembling as she took a slow step into the room. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she spotted her fifteen year-old handmaiden beneath Ozai's massive form, frozen in fear and staring at her mistress in shock as he held her against the mattress.

"L-let her go," Ursa repeated, hating how weak her voice sounded.

"Oh, Ursa, don't be jealous," he said, the corner of his mouth curving up in sick amusement.

She huffed in disbelief. "You know that's not why I'm here."

Sighing irritably, he pushed himself onto his knees before dropping his feet to the ground. "She agreed," he shrugged.

"Just like I 'agreed' to marry you?" Ursa asked darkly.

Ozai's grin widened. "Precisely." He stood slowly, his form a tall, menacing monster in the darkness as it moved in front of her. "And just like you'll agree to leave this chamber," he threatened, a hot hand sliding up her neck, fingers digging painfully into her jaw.

Ursa tried to swallow against his grip, refusing to look away from the terrible eyes staring down at her. "Ozai, you—you will leave my handmaidens alone," Ursa said with all the strength she could muster.

"Your handmaidens?" he scoffed, hot breath burning her cheek and rolling in waves down her neck. "Everything, everyone you love belongs to me," he snarled, before a strange grin swept over his face. "I own you, remember?"

Ursa stared up at him in fury. No one owns me, she thought bitterly. She realized too late that her eyes had betrayed her thoughts.

"Your insolence has earned you nothing," he said, amusement replaced by a sudden impatience. "Leave my presence immed—" His words were cut off as heavy footfalls rang from the hall. Shoving her aside, he swept towards the door and shut it halfway behind him just as one of his generals stood at attention.

"Prince Ozai, my apologies," Ursa heard. "But you're needed in the war room immediately."

"…Fine," Ozai replied shortly, shutting the door and waiting until the footsteps faded away. Turning back to the two women in his chambers, he scowled. "Leave my presence!" he barked.

Not waiting another moment, Ursa ran and gathered Kiyo in her arms before pulling them both out the door and into the safety of the corridor before Ozai changed his mind.

"M-my lady," the girl rasped, her quaking growing stronger with each step. "I-I'm so s-sorry—"

"Hush, now," Ursa said, tightening her grip as she led them into her bedroom. Depositing her into a chair by the fire, she fetched a blanket and a pot of tea. Her own nerves were finally manifesting, the quaking trailing into her arms, breath ragged as she tried to calm herself.

Kiyo stared at the cup offered her, eyes growing wide in humiliation as her lady served her. "My lady, y-you shouldn't have to—"

"Nonsense, take it," Ursa insisted, pushing the cup into the girl's trembling hands before draping the blanket over her shoulders as she sat beside her. It wasn't a moment later that the delayed tears of shock and gratitude finally started falling down Kiyo's cheeks.

Early the next morning, another quiet knock was heard on Ursa's door. Pulling it open anxiously, she looked down to see Zuko looking up at her, brows furrowed in worry.

"Good morning, sweetheart," she said, smiling a bit at his confusion.

He just nodded, chewing his lip for a long moment before speaking. "Mom, did you—are you okay? I…I was scared," he admitted quietly.

Heart softening a little, Ursa dropped to one knee and gathered him into a hug. "I'm fine, my love."

"What about Miss Kiyo?" he asked against her shoulder.

"Kiyo is all right. She's here, in fact," Ursa said, pulling back. "Would you like to see for yourself?"

Zuko nodded eagerly, taking his mother's outstretched hand as they moved into the room. Kiyo sat on the couch, dressed in traveling robes with a small pack at her side. Catching sight of Zuko, she fell quickly to her knees before him.

"My prince," she said, head low to the ground. "Th-thank you. I will never forget what you've done for me."

Zuko looked back at his mother anxiously. She only smiled. "A little hero, no?" Ursa asked.

Kiyo looked up at her before smiling at the prince. "Yes. My little hero."

More confused than before, Zuko blushed a bit as he watched his mother hand Kiyo several pouches to tuck into her bag and escort her out the door. He sat on the rug by the fire, tugging at the loose strands in the carpet as he waited for Ursa to return.

"Where did Miss Kiyo go?" he asked quickly when she came and sat beside him.

"She's returning to the countryside, to live with her family," Ursa fibbed. In truth, she'd sent Kiyo with as much money as she could spare, an excellent recommendation, and the order to go by a different name in a new household, hopefully far from the Capital. She knew she couldn't save every woman from Ozai, but she was certainly going to try. For starters, no more teenagers on my staff, she thought determinedly.

Looking back at Zuko, he seemed a little sad. "We will miss Kiyo, right?" she asked softly.

He nodded, staring at his hands. Zuko didn't have a lot of friends, and Kiyo had always been kind to him, having helped care for him when he was younger. Ursa was sorry herself to see her go.

"Zuko, why did you tell me about Kiyo last night?" Ursa prodded a minute later.

He shrugged. "I just had a bad feeling," he said quietly. He looked up suddenly. "Is it my fault she has to leave?"

"No, no," Ursa assured him, pulling him into her arms. She could tell by his breathing he was fighting back tears.

"F-Father seemed mad," he whispered quietly, looking away. "M-maybe I shouldn't have said anything—"

"No, Zuko. No," Ursa said firmly. "You did the right thing. You helped Kiyo. She was…in trouble, and I was able to help her because of what you said."

"Really?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes, my love," she told him. "Zuko, never, ever be ashamed to speak out when you feel something is wrong. Do you understand?"

He nodded eagerly. "I understand."

Seven Years Later

"But the forty-first is entirely new recruits. How do you expect them to defeat a powerful Earth Kingdom battalion?"

Zuko nodded in silent agreement from his seat at the long meeting table. This general must be out of his mind, he thought. His first war meeting was certainly proving more eye-opening than he expected.

"I don't," General Bujing replied, interrupting Zuko's thoughts. "They'll be used as a distraction while we mount an attack from the rear."

Zuko couldn't believe what he was hearing. Used as a distraction? he thought. Than that means—

"What better to use as bait…than fresh meat?" Bujing smirked, the corner of his mouth curling up sickly as he looked over the arrangement of wooden pawns on the long map, pawns that represented people. Pawns that at one time had represented Lu Ten.

That moment seemed to freeze in time, Zuko's eyes growing wide as his heart raced and the words of his mother, the only part of her he had left, rang in his mind.

"Zuko, never be ashamed to speak out when you feel something is wrong."

Chest throbbing in righteous fury, Zuko felt himself rise to his feet. "You can't sacrifice an entire division like that!" he cried. "Those soldiers love and defend our nation! How can you betray them?"

Little did he realize at the time how that moment would define the rest of his life. His mother certainly couldn't have known how her words would change him—scar him—but neither did he realize how they would continue to shape him.

Three years—over three years of forgetting her words, of ignoring his uncle's, of letting himself care more about what his wretched father thought of him than he did about what was right. He felt himself caving in, felt himself changing into someone he didn't want to be. Someone she wouldn't have wanted him to be.

Enough was enough.

"You will obey me," Ozai snarled, hands balled into fists as father and son stared one another down in the deep chambers of the bunker. "Or this defiant breath will be your last!"

Zuko felt cold, the distant eclipse stifling his chi, his father's eyes blazing in all the disgust and loathing Zuko had sought to erase the past three years.

And for a moment, he hesitated.

"Zuko," Mother's words echoed suddenly in his mind. "Never, ever be ashamed to speak out when you feel something is wrong."

The prince narrowed his eyes, heart again full of courage. "Think again," he rasped, pulling the swords from his back as his father backed down. "I am going to speak my mind, and you are going to listen."

[end]