A/N: The Following is a non-profit fan-based work of fiction. Full DisclaimerTM is available on the author page/series page. This is also (as should be obvious from the title) the fourth book in an ongoing series. You can probably make it through without reading previous works but… why would you want to?
Don't worry, it'll be here when you get back.
The chapter uses, where appropriate, dialog from S3E1 "The Awakening."
Rated W, for Wrong
Reader discretion is advised.
Chapter 1 "The Return"
Early Autumn, year 11 in the reign of Fire-Lord Ozai
Everything was wrong.
After everything Zuko had been through, everything he'd sacrificed, everything he'd given up, everyone he'd betrayed… it wasn't supposed to have been this way.
On the surface, he had everything he was supposed to want. He had come home, been un-banished (if that was even a word) and had been heralded as a hero by general acclamation.
That last had been a bit of a shock.
Based on the evidence of the rather scathing attitude of the Admiralty, and the condescension on the part of its members, most notably Zhao, Zuko had assumed that everyone in the Fire-Nation loathed him. He was the banished Prince, the exile, the shame of the nation. So, when he had been formally reintroduced to the populace of Otosan Uchi he had expected, at the most, polite cheering. Polite cheering overtop of quiet sniggering, possibly a thrown tomato-melon. He had not expected the cheers to nearly deafen him, for the crowd to have placards bearing the phrase "Welcome Home," or for them to chant his name like they were at some sort of sporting event.
"Zu-Ko, Zu-Ko, Zu-Ko, ZU-KO!"
It was entirely unseemly.
"Zu-Ko, Zu-Ko, Zu-Ko, ZU-KO!"
Gratifying, but unseemly.
"What in Akodo's name was that?" Zuko said wonderingly after exiting the balcony which had overlooked the thronging masses.
"I told you Zuko," Azula said coming up beside him, "I took care of everything."
He had been in the broadsheets.
In Zuko's long absence many things in the Fire-Nation had changed. His people had always been inventive and industrious and what they did not invent themselves they besieged, captured, and then improved upon dramatically. Most notably in this instance was the movable-type printing press. The principle had been, in typical Fire-Nation fashion, expanded upon and industrialized and was now used for the rapid distribution of information to the armed forces. The broadsheet was the new and improved civilian version, a replacement for the Herald, or town-crier, and now for a single iron fu anyone could buy the one-page weekly paper and become versed in the latest happenings in the Fire-Nation, her Colonies and anywhere else in the world, provided of course that there was enough space, and enough interest in printing it.
The "Adventures of the Prince of Fire," had begun to appear in the national paper almost eighteen months ago and chronicled, albeit with an excess of artistic license, Zuko's journeys around the world and the battles he had fought.
Interestingly the piece was actually billed as a fictional work detailing the life of an equally fictional "Prince Kozu" who, entirely by coincidence everyone was sure, was also banished by his father, scarred, and given an insurmountable task to complete in order to redeem himself.
A number of relatively minor things had been widely exaggerated for narrative effect. Where Zuko had fought three bandits by himself in the northern colonies, Kozu had defeated an entire company. Where Zuko had led a raid on Kyoshi Island with two scant companies and an overexcited engineer in search of the Avatar, Kozu had besieged it with a fleet, and brought the village crashing down around the enemy's ears in an effort to make them surrender information about the whereabouts of the "staff of Yang-Chen" which was the item he had been bid to retrieve. Interspaced in between the exciting battle chapters were a great many broody passages that Zuko recognized as being based on his letters back home.
While ostensibly the piece was fictional no one in the Fire-Nation was stupid enough to not make the connection and now the general populace thought that Zuko was a lot more heroic than he thought he was.
The author, a Kasai Ao, turned out to be nothing more than a non de plume for Azula herself, who had apparently undertaken the project as an exercise in the manipulation of public perception. By all accounts it was masterfully done; the general population had been given a hero which bolstered their morale and their love of country. Zuko himself found none of this obvious but Ty Lee, as excitable and talkative as he remembered, filled him in on the boat ride back to Otosan Uchi and presented him with a bound copy of the entire run as a belated birthday gift. Despite the artistic license, and the fact that Azula flatly denied everything, Zuko found them very well written and, if not entirely truthful, then at the very least a compelling story. They at least killed time on the ride back home.
Back home… to see his father.
Zuko had more nervous standing before the massive doors to the throne room that he could ever recall having been before. He'd fought battles on sea and land. He'd faced down giant earthbending samurai, firebending masters, and the Avatar himself. He'd loved a woman, and the guilt of his betrayal still tore at him like serrated knives. Yet the power of those emotions were nothing besides the total and absolute sickening dread he felt as he stood before the immense bronze doors.
He had hadn't been in this room since his mistake.
Hadn't seen the Fire-Lord… his father since he'd had both eyes.
Six years. Six long and bloody years.
His chest throbbed as stood before the doors, the ribs his father had broken ached as though the cracks had been reopened and the left half of his face tingled in phantom pain.
"Courage is not the absence of fear," Akodo had said. "Only the truly foolish are unafraid. Courage is the execution of duty in spite of that fear, because of it. One cannot truly be brave without being afraid."
Zuko opened the door… and did his best to BE brave.
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The throne room was as he remembered it, dark, ominous, and smelling faintly of sulfur. Bronze columns reflected the muted light of the great wall of fire that dominated the far side of the room. He had often dreamed of this very room, of his mistake, his failure. Awful dreams full of looming shadows and bitter laughter that could wake him from a dead sleep. The room stood empty now, except for the shadowy figure behind the curtain of flame, seated on the throne.
Zuko, still clad in the black armor his sister had given him, forced his back as straight as he could and strode two-thirds of the way towards the wall of flame. He dropped to one knee, his right hand a fist grounded on the floor. His left slid his wakizashi out of his belt, the only blade he carried today, and he placed it on the floor in front of him. His pose was that of a warrior paying homage, ready to pull the blade and end his own life at the word of his lord.
The figure behind the flames rose, and Zuko bowed his head lower. One did not look upon the Fire-Lord unless he bade you to do so. The figure passed through the curtain of flames as though it were just that, a curtain, and slowly made its way towards Zuko.
The Fire-Lord stopped only a few feet away.
"You have been away for a long time," Ozai said. His voice was just the same as it had been all those years ago, like sharpened steel drawn from silk. "I see the weight of your travels has changed you. You have…" Zuko felt his breath catch "…redeemed yourself, my son. Welcome home."
"My son." He called me his SON, Zuko thought in wonder. He hasn't done that since…
"I am… proud of you, Prince Zuko."
He's proud? But I didn't…
"I am proud because you and your sister conquered Ba Sing Se," Ozai said, beginning to walk a slow circle around his son. "I am proud because when your loyalty was tested by your treacherous uncle you did the right thing and captured the traitor. And I am proudest of all of your most legendary accomplishment: you slew the Avatar."
"W-what?" Zuko said, forgetting himself in his surprise.
Oh no. Don't you do it!
"Azula told me everything. She said she was amazed and impressed at your power and ferocity at the moment of truth. Amazed at how-"
Don't do it! Don't you flaming DARE!
"I regret, Majesty, that you have been misinformed." The words fell from Zuko's lips like sword strokes through reeds.
…You really are an idiot.
"I. have. Been. WHAT?" Ozai hissed, his voice like ice.
"I did not kill the Avatar, Majesty."
"He LIVES!?" If ice could burn.
"No Majesty, your honored daughter slew him."
As suddenly as it began Ozai's fury disappeared. "Why," he mused, "would she say that you had done it?"
"For… advantage Majesty. To keep me in line should I stray too far from her control." It was the only thing that made sense given what Zuko knew about Scorpions. He certainly didn't blame her for it, it was simply the way she had been taught.
"Ah, and so you hope to dispel that advantage by confessing to me now."
"No Majesty, I only wish to begin again. To honorably serve your Majesty and the Crown-Princess again. I cannot do so if my return is based on a lie." Zuko was a Lion, and that was what HE had been taught.
"You… acknowledge your sister as my heir?" Ozai said the barest hint of surprise entering his voice.
"Yes, Majesty."
"You will not… fight her for the throne?"
Zuko began to deny it, but hesitated. This was a test.
"Only if you wish it, Majesty."
"And why would I do that?"
"Because… it is conflict that makes us stronger… father."
"Good," Ozai drawled. "Very good. I see that you have learned much in your travels. Arise Akodo Zuko. Arise Crown-Prince of the Fire-Nation."
What?!
Zuko's eye was wide with a mix of horror and wonder as he gathered his wakizashi.
Azula is going to KILL me!
He gained his feet and stared down at his father.
…Down?
He was taller than Ozai. Not by much, maybe a half-inch, but he was taller.
"Welcome home, my son," Ozai said with a smile.
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"He did WHAT?!" Azula shouted, sitting bolt upright in her bedchamber.
"Azi…" Zuko said, a placating grimace on his face. He was still in his armor, having come directly from his late-night meeting with their father.
"NO! Don't you 'Azi' me! What in the burning ashy flaming pits of DESPAIR did you say to him!"
"Nothing!"
"Nothing?"
"Well… I might have given you credit for killing the Avatar," Zuko said sheepishly.
"You WHAT!"
"I thought he was going to order me to commit seppuku, not name his heir!"
"You unbelievable moron! After all I did for you. After I gave you your chance and this, THIS, is how you repay me?"
"Damnit Azi, I thought I was helping! Showing you had control of the whole situation! That you were the one who should be-"
"Well, I'd thank you not to HELP me in the future, you idiot!"
"I don't understand. Why would he…" Zuko shook his head.
"Just get out Zuko. Get OUT of my room."
"Azi, I didn't intend for-"
"Do NOT call me that! What you intended doesn't matter, it's what happens that counts."
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Everything was wrong.
Zuko had come home, but found that he barely remembered to place. The rooms he had grown up in were less familiar to him than the cabin on his ship. He'd grown used to the stiffness of army cots and his naval bunk and the ground. His old bed made him feel like he was drowning as he sank into its softness. Even the bed in his old Earth-Kingdom apartment had been stiff and hard by comparison. He moved a blanket and pillow to the floor next to the fire and slept there instead. When he managed to find sleep anyway.
Sleep came irregularly, and when it did it was fitful and plagued with vague dreams of the cave under Ba Sing Se. The look on his uncle's face somehow merged with Katara crying out in pain spiraling into the look on her face, a look of heartbreak and sorrow and just… defeat. He usually only managed an hour or two before he shot bolt upright, covered in sweat, his heart rate spiked and thrumming in his ears like a war drum.
Everything was wrong.
He had been restored by his father, resumed his rightful place, but in doing so he had been alienated from his sister. Even with his protestations and denials the hard look in her eyes remained. He was an opponent again. Whatever trust had been established between them was gone.
He was loved by his people, but even that was a lie or, at the very least, an exaggeration. Even if it hadn't been, he was cloistered away from them, alone in the palace. Alone in his rooms with only his thoughts.
At least he had a view.
Otosan Uchi was a beautiful city. Its black stone walls and red tile roofs gave off the impression of a bed of hot coals, broken up by the larger copper-covered government and religious buildings as they glinted in the sun, sharp and jagged like bursts of flame caught in motion. The city was built in the caldera of a massive, becalmed, if not entirely dormant, volcano and from a distance, a person might be forgiven if they thought that the mountain was still alive. The idea that Akodo himself had conquered this volcano and then built the foundations of his city on its grave was both inspiring and a poignant reminder of what one could do if only they put their mind to it.
Especially if one was an Akodo.
The first two days after his reinstatement Zuko remained entirely in shock. The idea that he was home, victorious at last, didn't seem to penetrate his brain. He spent almost the entirety of those days in silent contemplation of the city he had not been allowed in for six years.
He spent the third day waiting for the other be sandal to drop. He became certain, down to his bones, that something was going to happen to destroy what little peace he had. He imagined a thousand different ways it could happen, from the realistic (assassins) to the farcical (the return of the dreaded Moon Wyrm.)
The fourth day, nothing happened at all.
The fifth was just the same.
On the sixth, he began to wonder if there wasn't something he should be doing. He had seen no one but the servants, no one had asked anything of him, he had done nothing. He asked one of the servants who brought his morning meal that question and was met with a wide-eyed horrified stare.
"I would never presume to tell His Highness what he should be doing!" the servant said, prostrating himself in abject terror.
Zuko dismissed him and went to stand at the window, arms behind his back.
Nobody is going to GIVE me something to do, he mused, once again contemplating the city below him. I have to figure it out for myself. If for no other reason than to preserve my sanity.
He turned around to contemplate his chambers. They were lavishly appointed with red and gold tapestries, with works of art and decorative weapons all over the walls. Everything was chosen for pure beauty and aesthetic appeal, a harmonious alignment to bring peace to his by spirit and mind.
It wasn't working.
He lifted one of the swords off the wall only to discover that it was simply a replica, silver paint over wood.
It was a lie.
It, like his sudden rage, burst into flame without a thought.
When the servants returned the next day, they were greatest with the sight of their Prince in his bathrobe, covered in soot, staring out the window again, the entirety of his rooms bare of everything except for a single bag and a variety of scorch marks. Calmly, Zuko made his wishes known. He wanted a bed, not too soft. He wanted a desk and chairs. He wanted a bookshelf and he wanted racking for his armor and weapons. Anything else was pointless frippery.
Everything else was just a lie.
There would be no more attempts to dress him, he could dress himself thank you very much.
There would be no more fancy octopus-shark eye soup or blowfish-cat stinger aperitifs. There would be rice and egg for breakfast, NO lunch, and some variety of meat and rice for dinner. Stew would be an acceptable variation.
He dismissed them, suggesting that the sooner these things were accomplished the better, and ordered them to summon his retainers.
Then he took a bath while the servants worked.
When he emerged, he found his rooms cleaned, scrubbed bare of soot and ash, and the servants attempting to manhandle a large old-fashioned futon through the door. Majors Rin and Haki, both of whom Zuko had promoted out of hand after Ba Sing Se, stood waiting at parade-rest in the middle of what had formerly been some kind of lounge room, next to a desk and chairs that the servants had managed to acquire on remarkably short notice.
Zuko found himself pleased by their efficiency.
"Sit," Zuko said, indicating the two chairs in front of the desk. He suited his own words by crossing around the desk and sitting in his desk chair, its higher back to the wall.
"What," Zuko began after they all had settled, "do princes do."
The two soldiers hesitated, sharing a look with one another.
"Highness…" Haki began, "we would not presume to-"
"STOW IT, major!" Zuko barked, startling the servants, and sending them fleeing from the room. "If I wanted genteel flattery and pointless ego stroking, I would have asked a Scorpion. What do princes DO?"
"Whatever they want, sir," Rin said.
"What I want is to serve my people the best I can," Zuko said, sighing and leaning back in his chair. "I admit that I haven't the slightest idea of how to go about doing that."
"Permission to speak freely, sir."
"Rin, as long as it is just the three of us you will always have permission."
"Well sir, my father always used to say that 'you don't know what you don't know, and it's the battle of a lifetime to figure out which is which.'"
Zuko looked at him blankly.
"It means you can't solve a problem if you don't know what the problem is, sir. So, what you want isn't too just 'help your people' you want to know what their problems are, where they are, and how big they are. Then you can engage them."
"And how do we do that?"
"It's just another campaign, sir," Haki said breaking in. "We just need intelligence if we're going to engage the enemy. Then surround, contain, and destroy!"
Everything is so simple when you're a cavalryman, Zuko thought in mild amusement. Still, he's not wrong.
"Seems doable," Zuko said aloud, nodding to himself. "Find me lieutenant Jee, gentlemen."
"What?" Haki sputtered, "I thought you hated that guy?"
"It turns out that he was a great deal better at his job than I had thought," Zuko said rising to his feet. "I owe him an apology, and quite possibly a promotion. Dismissed."
On the seventh day, Zuko left his rooms.
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A few days later found Lt Jee standing at the position of attention in front of Zuko's desk, spine as rigid as a board. He had the look of a man who believed death was only a few moments away but was prepared to face it with all the pride he could muster.
Zuko allowed him to sweat for a few moments as he silently perused Jee's personnel file.
It wasn't pretty.
Jee had, on no less than seven occasions, been cited for showing disrespect to a superior officer. The fact that he hadn't been executed, however, suggested that in each instance he had been technically correct in whatever he had said. That he had been correct hadn't prevented him from being passed over for promotion again and again. No matter the circumstances, being thirty and still a simple lieutenant was not a good thing in the Fire-Nation army.
Zuko closed the file with a snap.
"It would seem you have the unfortunate habit of telling people things that they do not want to hear, lieutenant."
Jee showed unusual restraint and remained silent, his eyes unfocused and affixed on a point behind Zuko as the silence following the rhetorical question grew long.
"You will be interested to hear that I have had reports, from sources beyond reproach, that the Avatar… DID, in fact, walk across the Great Divide."
Jee blinked.
"Furthermore, the Avatar was present at the flooding of the village of Giapan," Zuko growled.
Jee somehow managed to look smug without changing his facial expression.
"So, you have my thanks, and my apology… Captain."
Jee's mouth fell open in surprise.
"Sit," Zuko said, indicating the chairs before him. There were three now and Zuko himself rose and began to slowly pace back and forth behind his desk as Jee, possibly in a state of shock, sank into a seat.
"You now have a choice to make, captain," Zuko said, eyeing the man. "On the one hand, you can leave this room, justly rewarded for your service and go back to the regular army." Zuko pointedly glanced at the condemning personnel file on his desk indicating what he thought might happen in that instance. "On the other hand, you can, this very day, swear fealty to me, become my retainer, and find a place for yourself where that," Zuko gestured at the personnel file again, this time with a sneer, "will not follow you."
Jee went pale and opened his mouth to speak. "Permission to-"
"Speak."
"Why me, sir? You've read the file, obviously, you know I'm not good at holding my tongue. How am I going to be able to fit in as the retainer to a Prince?"
"I have not been back in the capital a month yet, captain, and already I have grown sick of people telling me the things they think I want to hear instead of the things I need to hear. I do not think YOU will have this problem." Zuko stopped his pacing and leaned over the desk towards Jee, resting on the tips of his fingers. "I will expect decorum in public and in formal situations. In private I will expect you to tell me the unvarnished truth. No pandering, no wheedling, no trying to curry favor.
"But… what do you want me to do?"
"We can discuss that after you have made your choice."
Jee sat in the chair, mind obviously spinning, his hands clenching and unclenching unconsciously.
"…To the pits with it, I never liked the army anyway," he muttered to himself. He glanced up at Zuko, "Now? Or-"
"Right. Now."
Jee sighed and slipped out of the chair to one knee.
"I, Hosokawa Jee, samurai of the Hawk…"
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Despite the fact that Zuko, at present, had no army under his direct command he thought of the three men in front of him as his war council in the privacy of his own head. Matsu Haki, large, loud and bearded, a cavalryman and a proponent of simple, usually violent, solutions to every problem. Uesugi Rin, thin, greying and stoic, long-term infantry veteran and member of a Colonial samurai house. And now Hosokawa Jee, middling in height, an intelligence officer, malcontent and the son of a low-born magistrate.
Truly the finest the Fire-Nation had to offer.
That said, Zuko found them to be highly useful and, if he was being honest, slightly comforting. He may not have had a simple goal anymore, the Avatar was dead, possibly forever, but at least he still had his soldiers.
Soldiers he could trust.
He asked for their opinions and got them. Haki thought it best to simply go back into military service. The conquered territories were rife with banditry as well as the few last dregs of rebellion that would need to be put down eventually. Rin, when he could be compelled to provide his thoughts, was of a similar mind. Although he suggested that the Colonies specifically might deserve some more attention. They were often overlooked in favor of issues in the mainland and, as he pointed out, it was their iron and coal that had won the war in truth.
Jee was of a different mind.
"If you leave the palace, you're just going to sacrifice the war for the smaller battles," he said scratching at his large sideburns.
"Explain," Zuko said tersely.
"Well, if there's going to be a problem, like a BIG problem, then headquarters is the place to hear about it. You can flit around all you like and try and guess where things are going to crop up, but everything eventually makes it back the headquarters."
Rin glared at him pointedly.
"Uh… sir," Jee finished, somewhat sheepishly.
"Very well," Zuko said after a moment of consideration. "How do we proceed?"
"Well, if you want to find problems you just have to follow the money."
"Follow… the money?"
"Yeah, my father was a magistrate and he said that if you follow the money you always make your way back to the source of the crime… errr… problem."
"So, your suggestion is to 'follow the money?'" Haki said choking back skepticism.
"Well… look, I don't know anything about government," Jee said. "Who's the supply officer for… everything?"
"The Minister of the Treasury," Zuko supplied immediately.
"Well, look at it like this, I never met a supply officer, who was any good at their job anyway, who didn't know exactly where every bit and bob was, and was supposed to be. You want to find out where the unit is headed, where to get contraband, who's grifting on the side? You ask the supply guy. They know everything. If the unit is going to have a problem coming up, they're usually the first to know about it."
"Seems like a place to start," Zuko said, nodding approvingly. "Jee, take Haki with you and get copies of everything you can from the Ministry of the Treasury. Rin, you and I will go to the Royal Archives, I will need all the books on economics that we have." He grimaced, "I've got some reading to do it seems."
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After several weeks of reading, conversation, and a good deal of swearing, it was discovered that the Minister of the Treasury was NOT good at his job. Even on the rare occasions when he actually did his job, it could not be said to be "good."
Zuko found the man, Ugawa Yokubo, relaxing in a private hot spring.
In the middle of the day.
On a Tuesday.
Zuko found the scream he made as the water rapidly increased in temperature most gratifying.
"Good afternoon, Minister Ugawa!" Zuko shouted over the high-pitched shrieks the man emitted as he lept from the near boiling water. "I had hoped to find you hard at work in your office, but I suppose this will have to DO."
Zuko had always considered himself somewhat inept at manipulation and polite discourse, Azula was the "people person" after all, but over the course of the last few weeks he had found that government officials tended to cave to barked orders and angry glares far more readily than they did when he simply tried to be polite. So, he'd resolved to treat people like he would any other soldier under his command. Servants were unruly privates fresh off the boat, more in need of a firm hand and clear guidance than any actual disciplinary measures. Government clerks and bureaucrats were overworked sergeants, who needed simple direct statements and commands with as little wiggle room as possible. The higher ministers, he had discovered, were like junior officers who had been caught sneaking away from their paperwork one too many times, into town or the geisha tent.
Minister Ugawa hadn't done his paperwork. Probably didn't even know he had paperwork.
"I was wondering, Minister, if you would care to comment on the state of the nation's finances?" Zuko said, an entirely unfriendly grin on his face as Yokubo hopped from foot to foot in pain.
"W-w-w-what? Your Highness! I don't-" the little fat man, now the pinkish color of lightly cooked squirrel-salmon, gaped and sputtered like a fish out of water.
What an appropriate metaphor, Zuko thought.
"Specifically," he continued aloud, "I would like to discuss how something as simple as basic accounting seems to have been forgotten under your watch."
"Basic… what?"
Oh… this stupid ash-licker.
"I will try to use smaller words, Minister. Where," Zuko began to advance on the shivering naked man, growling in fury, "is. My. Father's. MONEY?"
"Wh-what? Your Highness, the treasury is-"
"Short! The treasury is SHORT, by tens of thousands of koku. A simple accounting of funds, something you are required by law to do every new moon I might add, reveals that the funds contained within the treasury fall terribly short of the numbers contained in your published reports. Where is the money minister?"
"Your Highness, the intricacies of the Treasury are-"
"BEYOND you I imagine," Zuko barked. "Revenues have fallen in every conceivable category imaginable. Our Nation's economy is flagging, and you sit here in a hot spring and publish reports calling it 'healthy.' We are about as healthy as an arrow through the neck!" Zuko beckoned with his hand, never taking his eye from Yokubo and Jee, grinning broadly at the trembling minister, came forward holding an ornate hourglass. "You have five minutes-" Zuko said as he flipped the glass- "to explain yourself. Starting NOW."
Zuko could have given him five years, it wouldn't have been enough.
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The Daijo-kan was less than pleased.
The ministers that made up the Fire-Lord's Daijo-kan were selected by the sovereign himself, and from what Zuko could tell they were more upset that someone would dare to behead one of their number than they were about the fact the Yokubo had embezzled enough money to build a dozen battleships.
Not that there was much they could do about it, the man was already dead, and Zuko presented documents, written by mid-level functionaries, explaining the dangerous situation the Fire-Nation was in economically. The ex-minister's seal and signature were clearly present on the documents, indicating that he had seen, if not actually read or understood, them. These, laid beside his own flatly contradictory reports to the Daijo-kan, were entirely too damning. And if that had not been enough, the massive amount of wealth contained in the Ugawa household should have been enough to make the truth plain.
"I will NOT tolerate thieves at the heart of His Majesty's government," Zuko snarled at the assembled ministers.
"Your father-"
"If you think that my father of all people has any tolerance for people who steal from him, you are sorely mistaken."
"It is simply not done, Prince Zuko. A man of Lord Ugawa's stature must be-"
"Should have been," Zuko said with a sneer.
"…Should have been treated with more tact and deference. We know that you have been away from civilized society for some time, Highness, but…"
There was a great deal of quibbling and prevarication on the part of the remaining ministers, and it went on for some time before they moved on to other business. It was clear that the only person whose opinion mattered was the Fire-Lord and Azula herself acted as his messenger later that same day.
"You can't just run around beheading people, Zuzu. You're just lucky that father wasn't overly fond of that little toad to begin with."
"He was a THIEF, Azula! Are saying that-"
"What I'm saying, dear brother, is that you need to learn to be more circumspect. Father is the only one who gets to make decisions like that, and unless you want to be the-" she paused making a brief mental calculation- "sixteenth Crown-Prince to be thrown in the Spire, alongside uncle, I suggest you calm down."
"Then what am I supposed to-"
"I would never presume to instruct the Crown-Prince," Azula said turning around on her heel and walking away.
Somehow, perhaps by dint being the person responsible for his death, the paperwork and messages intended to Minister of the Treasury found themselves re-routed to Zuko the following day. The position was open, and in an effort to continue to "follow the money" as Jee had said, Zuko accepted the role of Minster de facto of the Treasury; by right of conquest.
His findings quickly grew from merely unpleasant to disastrous.
The entire nation seemed to stand on the brink of collapse, held aloft only by the recent infusion of gold plundered from the Earth-King's private vaults and the new taxes being paid by Gaoling. According to the books and scrolls he had gotten from the archives these factors were also being aided and abetted by the fact that no one outside the Treasury seemed to know how bad things really were. The books spoke a great deal about perception shaping commerce and the "demand" for goods.
Zuko spent a great deal of time simply trying to digest the rather unusual concepts in those books, but he kept at in his normal doggedly persistent manner. Lacking any better ideas, he also spent a large portion of time looking over scroll after scroll of financial data that his underlings provided him, looking for incongruities, places where things were wrong. He found them, and when he pulled on those strings it was as though he was unraveling a ball of evil yarn. Places, names, and dates revealed themselves to him, and he dutifully wrote them down.
He was making a list. And the people whose names were on it were about to become very unhappy.
Almost as unhappy as he was.
-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-Ω-
Zuko was pretty sure he had everyone fooled.
He attacked his new duties with vigor and determination. He talked to people, made plans, schemed plots, and practiced bending and swordsmanship. He read reports, did paperwork, and sent missives. He behaved as a prince and samurai should.
And then the Sun would set and all he could feel was shame.
All he could hear was a dull ringing.
All he could see was her. Her face a ruin of shock and horror and grief.
He accepted the shame. Meditated on it. Bathed himself in it. Asked himself, over and over again, if everything he had done was worth it.
It was a question that had no answer.
Everything was wrong.
A/N: Greeting weary travelers and WELCOME to Book 4: Air Soars. If, for some impossible reason, this is your first time reading an "Avatar: the Last Dragon" book… well… honestly, you should go back and read the others. They are pretty good and at least 30-some people agree!
So, I have a confession to make. The last 3 books have been a little different than this one. Namely, in that they were all, in their entirety, in a second draft BEFORE they were published. This book… is not (/winces). I admit that school and this work (putting things into their third, publishable, draft) has consumed more of my time than I had thought.
So, what does this mean to YOU, the loyal reader?
Hopefully nothing.
I've got about 16 chapters already in second draft, that's currently about 85k words. So, with any luck, I will be able to bang out those last few chapters over the 4 or so months that it takes me to publish. With any luck, you will see absolutely no interruption of service or of quality. BUT, should I fail in this regard, well, I'll tell you, and chapters might have to slow down a bit. However, I promise, here and now, that this will NEVER be a dead fic. I've GOT the conclusion, it's just the last adjoining chapters that have so far eluded me.
Anyway, enough of that, now is the time for…
META-BITS!
Britishness: So, I'm an American, and so when we think of monarchy we, like a large part of the world turn our thoughts to old Papa England. As much as we like brewing our teas in Boston harbor England is foundational to our culture. I have in this, and the next few, chapters endeavored to make things LESS British. However, THAT is where my brain goes when I think of court drama and politics in a monarchical system. So bear with me. It is also important to note, as I think I have before, that this world while BASED on a romanticized 9th century Japan is more in what we would consider post the age of sail. Late 19th century if the ships and the stylings of Legend of Korra are anything to go by. I got rid of the tanks BUT we still are on the cusp of electricity. Just something to keep in mind here.
Captain America: "What? I thought Zuko was an analog for Darth Vader," you say! Well he is, but Azula is also using him as a Morale puppet, just like Steve Rogers was in the first movie. While people aren't buying Fire-Nation war-bonds, it is still important, for the purposes of putting down civil unrest, for people to have heroes. Azula has done just that to Zuko. I ALSO think that Azula has a creative impulse that has, until now, had no place to express itself. So yes, Azula writes Zuko fanfic. Gods help me. She also, as may become clear in the next chapter, is a Maiko shipper.
Not that there is anything wrong with that.
No lies: So I'm sitting here, watching the actual canon show and boom, we see a Zuko who is devious and allows his father to believe that he killed the Avatar. Didn't sit well with me for this. So, Zuko does, what he believes, is the right thing and tells his liege lord the truth. Good idea, bad idea, you be the judge. But it is also important to note that Zuko, does not KNOW about the spirit water in this version. He has absolutely no reason to believe that Aang survived. Which somewhat, unfortunately, means that we will not be seeing Mssr. Sparky-sparky-boom-boom man. Pity.
Azula's punishment: "So, wait," you say, "why did Ozai make Zuko his heir when he knows he didn't kill Aang?" Well, if you think that Ozai doesn't know what Azula has been up to then you've sorely underestimated him. Not only is he punishing her for being overly sentimental towards her brother, something he feels is probably her last weakness, but he is also dividing them. Not only does he really believe that it is conflict that makes them stronger, he knows that if they were to work together… overthrowing him would be easy. As an evil lord o' super-mega-evil he's going to have paranoid tendencies. Having his two ass-kicking children, one of whom he has specifically trained to sniff out weaknesses and USE them, on good terms is not something he can allow. He still VERY much intends for Azula to be the next Fire-Lord, but he is using this as a teaching tool. "Don't be too nice, or it will bite you in the ass."
Zutara: I put this here to give you hope. This is STILL a Zutara work and this, Season 3, is where Zutara lives. So many times I read fiction where Katara is just so blindingly angry at Zuko for his betrayal under Ba Sing Se. In the canon, WHAT betrayal was that? Like many, I felt that there was really NO reason for him to choose Aang's side at that point. You can not betray a side you never joined. Was there some feelings and possibly some sexual tension in the caves, yeah obviously. Does that make a guy betray his family and join his enemy? Absolutely not.
Anyway, NOW when Zuko does make his way over to the other side Katara has a straight up LEGITIMATE excuse for the anger. He really HAS betrayed her, and dealing with that, boy are those chapters fun.
Hope you'll stick around for it!
Remember no matter how long ago my works were published I live feedback. Even if it's 2099 and you're reading this feel free to comment/review should your robot overlords allow it. My century old-ass will pop right out of my hospital bed and do a happy dance!
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NEXT WEEK on a very special "Avatar: The Last Dragon"...
Zuko fights CRIME!
TUNE IN. Same Zuko time, Same Zuko channel!
Original post date: 2 December 2018