Chapter One
Prince Zuko had been wrong to embarrass his father in front of the war council, but Firelord Ozai had been more wrong to challenge the prince, a child to an agnai-kai, one the boy stood no chance of winning. Zuko had never been a strong bender. Everyone knew it.
Iroh had never been fond of his brother. When his son, Lu-Ten, had died, Ozai had seemed delighted rather than upset. And when he heard their father had changed his mind, that Ozai would succeed him in the throne, Iroh had not been surprised.
But this had been a new low.
The boy had been badly burned, and to add insult to injury, Ozai had banished his son, the heir to his throne. "How dare you?" Iroh demanded when he had finally managed to see his brother face-to-face, though in that moment, he could barely stand to look at his younger brother.
"How dare I what?" Ozai questioned, his perpetual smirk on his face.
"The world has given you a wonderful, intelligent, good-hearted son, and you disgrace him. For what? For speaking out of turn? You knew he stood no chance in a duel against you. You know he stands no chance on his own on this fool's mission. How dare you take this gift and throw it away?" He was furious, more furious than he had ever been in his life, more furious than even when Ozai had used Iroh's son's death as a political playing chip.
"Then by all means," Ozai waved a dismissive hand. "Go with him."
"I will," Iroh spoke through gritted teeth, not even taking a moment to consider it. "And I will be more of an example to him than you ever have been or ever could be."
They had taken Ba Sing Se. It had been a difficult, dangerous undertaking, but Iroh and the Order of the White Lotus had done it, had defeated the last Fire Nation soldier in the same spot where Lu Ten had fallen. Their part was done, and all that was left to do was wait, to wait and hope that the others had also found their success.
"Cheer up, Iroh," Jeong Jeong patted him on the back. "It's over. We've won."
"Not yet, we haven't," he replied and looked across the city he had liberated, the city he had once tried to conquer.
The news that the Avatar had defeated Ozai came to them in the early hours of the morning, before the sun had even begun to rise. "Come," Iroh said to the others. "Let us congratulate them."
He wanted to see Aang, to congratulate the boy who had taken on far more responsibility than he ever should have, but he needed to see his nephew first, needed to hold him, to make sure he was all right, to assure the boy that he would never find himself in such a dangerous situation ever again.
They reached the others in record time. Iroh quickly surveyed the others. Aang was leaned against his sky bison, looking beaten up and worse for wear, but still far better than Iroh had anticipated. The warrior from the Southern Water Tribe and the woman warrior from Kyoshi Island were in each other's arms, something that brought a smile to the old man's face. He sincerely hoped they would grow old together and find peace in the mad, mad world.
He kept scanning, looking for his nephew, when his eyes fell upon the girl he had sent along with him. She was alone, away from the others, crying softly, though Iroh could tell she wanted to show more emotion. He felt his heart drop into his stomach as he approached her.
She turned to face him, and unsure of what else to do, Iroh pulled her into a tight hug, sighing deeply when her soft crying quickly turned to weeping. "I'm so sorry," she apologized through sobs. "I tried to… I tried…"
"Child," Iroh stepped back and faced her, a frown etched onto his face. "What are you talking about?"
He watched as she shut her eyes tightly, watched as another sob seized her body. "Zuko… She was trying to get me, but he…" Iroh's frown deepend, his heart sinking even further. "I couldn't save him."
Iroh stumbled back, barely able to keep himself upright. No, he thought. No, he isn't gone. He is hiding somewhere. He is playing a bad joke… But he knew the girl's words were true, he could see it in her eyes. No. I cannot lose another son…
"Katara?" Iroh turned when he heard the Avatar's voice from behind them, watched as the girl tried, and failed, to regain her composure. "Is it true?"
The girl shut her eyes tightly and nodded, and Iroh excused himself from them.
He collapsed to the ground once away from the others, where no one could see him, and he wept. His nephew, whom he had come to love as a son, whom he had raised in the later years of his life, whom he had always comforted when Ursa had disappeared and Ozai became increasingly impatient, was gone.
His brother was imprisoned. His niece was imprisoned. His son was dead. And now Zuko was dead as well. He was the last of the royal line, and one thought kept plaguing his mind. It should have been me.
He never should have sent Zuko to fight Azula. His nephew had never stood a chance against his prodigy of a sister, even with the training Iroh had provided. No, he should have gone instead… He shook his head, trying to clear it. Living in the past and in should-haves was not going to bring him back.
Nothing was going to bring him back.
