A/N: All of my fics are now up for Adoption. Except maybe this one. I may be continuing it.
Zuko had been told to consider himself lucky; lucky his punishment for attempted high treason hadn't been banishment. Only a few weeks into his chosen penance, he had decided he'd much rather have been banished. As penalty for his actions, Prince Zuko was sentenced to permanent house arrest. He had been offered the chance to be pardoned, assuming he repented of trying to help the Avatar; acknowledged and admitted that he regretted doing so.
Zuko had refused to do this, and went so far as to call shame upon his father for the mistreatment of a prisoner of war. This, in turn, caused the Firelord to look into these allegations, only to discover that, indeed, the Avatar had been imprisoned inhumanely. Prince Ozai was relieved of the responsibility of the Avatar's incarceration, with prejudice.
The Avatar, at the very least, was afforded a cell with a bed at the Boiling Rock, or so Zuko was told. This did, in some part, soothe the pain of his scarring and imprisonment, despite not knowing whether he could trust the word people brought him now.
He lived in his quarters; a large bedroom, bathroom, and a small, barred balcony that was apparently supposed to be used for meditating, but Zuko found he was unable to meditate with steel prison bars surrounding him on three sides. Instead, he would meditate inside, in the light the sun cast through the rice-paper window.
Zuko had little to do in his imprisonment, and for the most part, the only person who would regularly visit him was Lu Ten, who apparently blamed himself for the younger boy's actions. Zuko, of course, was no longer a young thirteen-year-old boy. Scarred, locked in and shunned, Zuko grew and lived like this for another four years. Time didn't pass like it had in the first few months. It was a prison sentence; one with no end in sight.
In his quarters, there was a Pai Sho set on which he and his cousin would play; Lu Ten's visits were always the highlight of the day, and the crown prince made sure to visit every day at high noon. He was allowed to.
On this particular day, nearly six months following Zuko's uncelebrated but duly noted seventeenth birthday, Lu Ten sat opposite him at the Pai Sho table, having brought a bottle of rice wine with him. It was early to drink yet, but he had brought it as a gift and expected Zuko would drink it before bed and sleep well. He would feel sick in the morning, but that never seemed to bother the boy.
"How is it that you always beat me?" Zuko grumbled, furrowing his brow at the board. His hair he continued to cut, keeping it just long enough to fit into a topknot, but not long enough to be considered noble. He no longer saw himself as a part of the royal family; and why should he? He was going to live like this forever. "I have nothing to do all day except play, and you still beat me."
Lu Ten smiled wanly. "It takes a clear mind, Zuko."
Zuko replied with an irritated scowl, and put down a piece he knew would do him no good. "When am I going to be allowed to bend again?" Zuko asked, agitated.
Lu Ten mulled this over briefly; Zuko was allowed regular time in the training arena to use his bending, usually once a week, but this privilege had been revoked a few weeks ago after what the guards were calling an 'attempted escape' on Zuko's part. Lu Ten hadn't been there to see it, but he supposed whoever was in charge of Zuko's sentence wouldn't allow him back out to the sparring arena until they were sure he wouldn't try to escape again, or until they had made the arena escape-proof.
Lu Ten hoped this wouldn't require additional punishment; the last time Zuko had tested the rules, he'd gotten twenty lashes of a komodo rhino whipping, nearly two years ago now. Lu Ten recalled that had been over Zuko forcing open the windows to let some air into his room, as the doors onto the patio had been locked at night, before the bars had been installed. The crown prince gave a breath. "I'm not sure," he answered dully.
Zuko glanced up to his cousin, who looked as though he were expecting him to suddenly have a psychotic break of some sort. Zuko's scowl only deepened, and his eyes flickered out to the patio. The doors were open and the wind was breezing through the room, and he drew a breath of it to regain his composure. The vision of his scarred eye was unaffected, and again, he supposed he should consider himself lucky for this.
But he had come to believe he was not a lucky kind of person. Ozai had always said it himself; Azula had been born lucky, and Zuko had just been lucky to be born. Ozai's words got harsher with each time the cretin came to 'check up on him'. The visits were infrequent and irregular, but they stung. Ozai always knew which buttons to press with him. Zuko supposed if he weren't incarcerated in his quarters, he'd probably be so unlucky that bad things just happened to him.
Lu Ten's visits, however, were pleasant and soothing, and Zuko didn't see fit to ruin this one with ill conversation. The two never spoke of anything to do with the war, unless it was new news, since Lu Ten probably believed Zuko was a full-blown traitor. Zuko himself wasn't sure on this. All he knew for sure was that Lu Ten avoided the subject of the Avatar. This he knew for fact.
Zuko had slowly learnt to stop asking about the Avatar, though the questions were still in his mind. "Anything new from the warfront?" Zuko asked conversationally, as Lu Ten's piece on the board took his as its subject, and the game was once again turned in the crown prince's favor.
Lu Ten stiffened in his seat - Zuko noticed. "What warfront?" he replied dryly. The Earth Kingdom was now completely colonized, with Ba Sing Se as the only place holding a pinch of its original culture. Azula's regiment - she was now fifteen, a fitting age for a prodigal princess to join the ranks - was in charge of keeping order in the city, and her commander managed to keep the people in line. The only battles taking place now were those against earth kingdom rebels and Water Tribe warriors.
The only place not under Fire Nation rule was the North Pole. The South had long been controlled by their forces; the entire village forced to up its roots and rebuild within a structure of metal walls put up by the troops sent to keep watch on the tribe. Their benders had been killed off long ago, and none were being born now.
"The north pole. Still no success breaking the outer wall?" Zuko asked, tilting his head to stretch his neck.
"None at all. Admiral Zhao insists he can break it with repetitive raids, and only succeeds in capturing two or three waterbenders, at the price of ten or twenty soldiers."
Zuko snorted a laugh, not being particularly fond of the admiral in question. "And Firelord Iroh wants to remove the fleet, right?"
"Yeah. Since there's not much they can do anyway. It's Ozai who's keeping them there, if you ask me."
Zuko mood immediately dropped a level and his scowl returned. The game of Pai Sho went to the usual victor, who set about collecting the tiles up again. Zuko got up and moved to the bed, falling back on it, as he was wont to do. He was tired of being a prisoner. He supposed it would be more humane to lock him up in a prison; at least then he would have no pride to be hurt by this wretched incarceration. He would have company, too; a cellmate would be something.
Zuko wondered if they planned to have him married. Ha. That would be interesting. Azula had been promised to a nobleman in the interest of securing extra funds for the colonies, and if she was old enough to be used as political tender, he imagined he was too. Then again, who would marry their daughter to a traitor? Not that Zuko was interested in marriage. The only thing he could benefit from a marriage was already provided; by the young maid who brought his dinner to him.
Lu Ten, of course, was already married, and happily so. He had a child on the way, too, from what Zuko had heard from servants. Of course, Lu Ten himself had not told Zuko of this, so he didn't question him about it; if the older prince had wanted him to know, he'd have seen fit to tell him. And Zuko didn't want Lu Ten to know Zuko had ways of knowing things.
Putting the pieces away, Lu Ten was surprised to hear a knock on the metal door from outside; the door had long been made fireproof in the event that Zuko might try to burn it down in an effort to escape. There were guards posted at the outside of it - imperial firebenders, the likes of which would give Zuko a run for his money should he try, in his unpracticed state, to duel. Lu Ten stood straighter and turned his gaze to the door. Zuko propped himself up on his elbows, dusting off what he tended to wear in the day - nightwear. After all, nobody really came to see him, bar for Lu Ten. In fact, the last time Zuko had actually bothered to get dressed had been the last time he'd been allowed to firebend. He regularly just recycled the nightwear he had in his cupboard.
The voice on the other side of the door was that of a messenger. "Prince Lu Ten; Firelord Iroh has called you to join a private audience with the Fire Sages. Immediately."
Lu Ten glanced at Zuko apologetically. "I should probably join them, then," he told his cousin, and gave a small bow. "I'll see you tomorrow, Zuko."
Zuko dropped back to the bed and waved a hand without looking. "I'll be here," he replied dryly, tucking the other hand behind his head.
Lu Ten stifled a laugh and moved to the door. The guards let him out and as soon as he heard it click, Zuko propped himself up and slid off the bed to his feet, quickly and quietly moving to it. He drew himself to the metal door and put the side of his head against it, listening for extra details. What could Iroh want Lu Ten to hear from the sages? Zuko had been waiting for years to hear something about that prophecy Lu Ten had mentioned, and he couldn't help but wonder, and hope, that it had finally been deciphered.
Other prophecies had been deciphered and realized during his sentence, of course, but Zuko had paid them no attention. He cared only for news of the Avatar, and the prophecy that Lu Ten had said was regarding the next. Zuko had already come to the assumption that the Avatar was being kept alive to minimize the efforts needed to find the next. The prophecy was most likely pertaining to the whereabouts of the next Avatar's incarnation.
But they already had the Avatar; why kill him just to capture it again?
Zuko listened hard, shutting his eyes in the hopes it would clear the muted sounds of the voices walking away, down the hall.
"What is it the sages want to discuss?" Lu Ten was asking.
"I am not at liberty to say, exactly, Prince Lu Ten. I was told only to bring you to the meeting."
"Tell me. I should like to know what I'm being called to give an opinion on."
There was a pause, and Zuko feared they would be out of earshot before he heard it.
"The prophecy, Prince Lu Ten. The sages believe they have deciphered it. They believe they can foretell of who the next Avatar will be born to."
The footsteps continued away, out of Zuko's earshot, but he'd heard it already. Zuko pushed himself up straight and dusted off the nightwear he had come to think of as daywear. He believed he understood now. He believed he understood what Ozai's brilliant idea had been all along. To capture the Avatar while it was still only an infant. Yes. This was definitely befitting Prince Ozai. It was genius, and sick, and twisted.
Ozai sought to shape the next Avatar from birth; to groom it as a war machine to rule the world for the Fire Nation.
The large throne room was quiet, bar for the crackle of fire, until Prince Lu Ten arrived, his messenger in tow. The crown prince bowed formally and took his seat at one end of the meeting table in the center of the room. The sages were sat around it, and Lu Ten looked at them all in turn. To Lu Ten's left, however, Prince Ozai was sat, and to his right, Firelord Iroh's most trusted advisor, a middle-aged woman by the name of Min Seng.
Lu Ten turned his eyes up to his father, who sat behind the wall of flames. He still got uneasy each time he saw his father sitting there. It didn't seem right to him. Not that he'd rather someone else be there, but it just didn't seem right. Iroh had been so full of life before taking the crown, and now the crown took all of his time. And when Iroh's voice came over the fire, Lu Ten didn't recognize it as that of the man who'd taught him to tie his own topknot.
"High Sages," the Firelord began regally, "Your findings, please," he raised a hand and gestured for them to speak.
Lu Ten turned his eyes toward each sage, in turn, and slowly, the one with the most authority raised himself to his feet. This man was elderly, with deep lines of age and stress carved into his face, and yet some form of inexperienced fear still etched into his brown gaze. His brows were long and bushy, and his beard the same. Lu Ten was reminded of his grandfather's final days.
"Firelord Iroh," the sage began in a dusty croak, turning his attention to Iroh alone, "We have worked tirelessly to decipher the prophecy of the dragons, and we believe with conviction in our final translation. At first we did not, and so we worked day and night to be sure it was correct. The dragons tell of the woman who will carry the next Avatar."
Iroh's voice was deep, low and throaty, and he worked hard to remain composed. Years the Fire Nation had waited for this news, and he would wait no longer. "Speak," he ushered on.
The sage glanced back to the others for the final go-ahead, and Lu Ten could see Ozai sitting forward, eyes and ears pricked to them. Lu Ten's eyes narrowed, and he wondered if this was a good idea for his father to allow realization.
The sage continued, and this time, he didn't stop. "The Last Southern Waterbender, your highness. The dragons prophesize that the last of the southern waterbenders will be the woman who carries the next Avatar from the womb into the physical world."
There was a silence. Lu Ten blinked, mulling over this new information. There weren't supposed to be any waterbenders left at the South Pole, and if there was one, then Lu Ten supposed it was luck that they had managed to keep their bending a secret for so long. Down south, this waterbender probably wouldn't be trained; easy pickings for the Fire Nation to abduct and bring back to the Caldera.
"You're positive that this is the dragons' prediction?" Iroh asked gruffly. "That you aren't mistaken?"
"We are, Firelord Iroh."
"I see," the Firelord gave a nod and raised a hand to gesture to Prince Ozai and Min Seng. "Min Seng, and Prince Ozai, my brother; organize a small taskforce to travel to the South Pole. Do not alert the troops already stationed there; travel and seek out this waterbender. Find them and bring them back to the capitol, in chains if need be. But I will have nothing like your shameful mistreatment of the current Avatar, Prince Ozai," he reminded his brother.
"Of course, your highness," Ozai answered, and Lu Ten was sure he was gritting his teeth, bitterly.
Min Seng and Ozai both got up. "I will personally ensure that she arrives in the capitol unharmed, my lord," she gave a shallow bow and glanced from the Firelord to the crown prince. Lu Ten quickly averted his gaze and composed himself, not wanting to appear too eager. He had no part in this scheme, and he wanted to keep it that way.
"I am glad to hear it. Agni be with you. You are dismissed," Iroh waved off the attendees of the meeting, getting up himself and disappearing out the back of the room - through the curtains into his personal office. Lu Ten's eyes followed his father, and then moved back to Ozai.
He only caught sight of Ozai leaving the room, as he got up himself, and Min Seng suddenly landed a hand on the crown prince's shoulder. Lu Ten jumped and moved wide eyes to her, coughing nervously.
"Come, Prince Lu Ten. Why don't we share palaver over some calming tea?" she smiled warmly - a far cry from the kind of smile he generally saw around this palace - and Lu Ten gave a little smile of his own. He could see why Iroh favored her advisement. Min Seng was almost like a female version of Firelord Iroh; or at least a female version of the way he had been before taking the crown. He liked her - as much as one person could like another in this place.
But he wanted to speak to his uncle - to see if he could accompany them on their expedition to the South Pole. He gave an apologetic smile.
"Apologies, General Min Seng - but I have some errands to run," he gave a shallow bow, hoping he wouldn't come off too suspicious. "Another time, perhaps?"
Min Seng arched a brow and smiled knowingly, her hand sliding off his shoulder. "Of course, Prince Lu Ten."
Word traveled fast that Ozai was headed somewhere unknown - that usually meant he was on a mission for Iroh. Zuko had learnt what certain gossips meant over years of listening through the keyhole. Zuko paced back and forth, his eyes occasionally darting to the window. He wondered of he should try an escape - it had been a long while since he'd done that. Perhaps he could make it to the docks, stow away on Ozai's flagship and make it to the North Pole.
The North Pole, of course, was the safest place from the Fire Nation; the only place the army ever went anymore to try to conquer. The only place Zuko imagined Ozai might be heading. The gossip that Zuko heard was less concerned with where the prince was headed, and more reflecting relief that he would be away from the palace. The scarred teen could imagine his father stalking around the place with a dark cloud following him, just scowling and being generally volatile. One could only assume that it was not only himself, Ozai's son, who had reason to despise the man.
Of course, nothing much would change for Zuko simply because his father was not around the palace - he hadn't seen his father in just over six months - but at the very least he wouldn't have to worry about any surprise visits from Ozai until he returned from his mission to the Water Tribe, probably with some poor woman in chains not far behind. Still, sick as he may have felt about the actions of his people, there was nothing he could do about it; he was as much a prisoner as any other traitor at the Boiling Rock, or in the dungeons beneath the palace.
Lu Ten continued to visit Zuko, and let nothing slip of Ozai being away from the palace - probably assuming that Zuko was unaware of it. Zuko knew better than to let his cousin know exactly how much he was aware of, and also said nothing on the subject. They played Pai Sho, drank tea, and talked about the weather.
It was almost three weeks later that when Lu Ten came to Zuko's quarters, he knocked instead of just having the guards let him in. Zuko came to the door, still in his pajamas, as he was wont to remain, and called out for his cousin. The door opened before him, and revealed Lu Ten, donning his white funeral attire - Zuko remembered wearing a similar outfit when his grandfather Azulon had died - and behind Lu Ten stood two female servants, one of which was holding a folded mass of white and gold.
"What's going on?" Zuko asked, concern in his voice. His first worry was that something had happened to his uncle Iroh, and the thought sent a terrifying shiver down his spine, but the expression on Lu Ten's face was more of exasperation than sorrow, so Zuko was somewhat comforted. Still, the presence of the funeral attire was disconcerting.
"Firelord Iroh has decreed that all aristocrats in the city attend the Avatar's funeral today to show respect for his life," Lu Ten recited ceremoniously, sounding very official. Zuko felt his face beginning to go numb with disbelief, but at the same time, relief washed over him. "Min Sei and Tahua will help you get dressed and your guards will escort you to the ceremony," Lu Ten's face was stony, and his words were as if inked on paper, leaving no room for discussion.
Zuko stared at his cousin, blinking a few times. He'd seen his cousin yesterday, and the day before, and he hadn't even suspected something was off. And what was the Firelord thinking, letting him come to the funeral of the Avatar? He was incarcerated here merely for giving the man something to eat, and yet he was allowed to be at the funeral? Prince Zuko wasn't even allowed to practice his firebending - there had to be some reason for this.
Lu Ten turned away, and suddenly Zuko's guards, at either side of his door, made sure to block his path should he try to make a break for it. The two servants slipped in between the guards, and then one of them shut the door between Zuko and the outside world. Immediately, the servants took hold of the sleeves and led him to the middle of the room, before the full-length mirror against the wall. Reluctantly, Zuko held out his arms and allowed the servants to undress him, even as he stared into blank space, reeling.
He wondered if this meant the Firelord was reconsidering Zuko's punishment, now that the Avatar was dead. His stomach began to twist, as he started to wonder how the Avatar had died - if they'd actually killed him, now that they knew they had the next Avatar in the bag. Maybe the airbender had just died of poor treatment, or refused to eat and starved to death. The twisting in his stomach began to feel like a heavy knot, and Zuko screwed up his face, trying not to think about it too hard.
Out the corner of his eye, he spotted one of the servants, the older of the two, a woman with deep crows feet wrinkles and kindly eyes, watching him as if he were an animal in a trap. She looked as if she pitied him, and for a beat he wanted to snap at her for it. Instead, he gave a weak sort of smile, which felt strange on his face. The woman smiled back, then broke eye contact abruptly, discarding Zuko's bed robe to the hamper in the corner.
Between them, the women wrapped the prisoner prince in the ornate white robes, layer after layer, until he felt the Fire Nation temperature was more than he could bear. It had been a week since the last time he'd even bothered to get dressed - and it had been months since the last time he'd actually dressed as if he were going somewhere. Outside, he could tell he would be sweating in all his finery, since there wasn't even a breeze whispering through the window. He sat down on the bed once he was dressed, and the younger servant proceeded to cover his feet with the ornate lace-up boots that went with the funeral robes, and the other began to tame his long hair into a topknot.
The younger maid took a quick glance from Zuko's feet up to his face, as he watched her tie his boots for him, and immediately looked away with shame on her own features. Zuko was confused for a moment, but then looked at himself in the mirror ahead, and saw the angry red scar that covered his left eye. The heavy feeling in his stomach returned, but it was not out of grief this time. He wasn't used to other people being in here - aside from Lu Ten, and his everyday maid, the one that brought his meals, took his laundry and occasionally pleasured him - two people who seemed at ease with the presence of his scar. So far, the day was bizarre, and it didn't seem to want to normalize. He hadn't even left his quarters yet, and he already longed to return to his solitude.
With a decisive yank on his scalp, the older woman tied Zuko's tresses into a neat topknot within a metal circlet with a small flame sigil on it, leaving him struggling not to reach up and scratch the pinched area of his head. The woman stepped back to take one final look at her work, then gave a small nod of approval. The girl at Zuko's feet stood, and they both gave shallow bows to him.
"If there's anything else you wish to do before you leave your quarters, Prince Zuko, you should do it now," the older woman advised, no trace of her former smile visible, "Alert your guards when you are ready to leave."
The two women stepped past him and let themselves out of the room, shutting the door firmly behind them. Not wanting to be late, Zuko hurried into his bathroom and quickly brushed his teeth. When he was done, he splashed some water on his face a few times before burying it briefly in a towel. He looked himself over one more time, and finally made for the outside world, rapping a knuckle on the heavy door that usually separated him from it.
One of his guards, Shai, a burly man in his early forties with a small, short beard protruding from his chin, opened the door and gestured for Zuko to come out into the hallway - and as soon as he did, the other guard, Lee, a man closer to Zuko's age than Shai's, snapped a small metal ring around the prince's wrist. Attached to the ring was a chain, about two feet long, connecting Zuko's wrist to that of the guard. As soon as the door was shut behind him, Shai snapped an identical handcuff onto his other wrist, securing it to Shai's arm as well.
Lee, the younger guard caught Zuko's attention with a threatening kind of chuckle, "Just in case you get any more ideas of escaping, your highness," he strained the word as if it were an insult.
Eventually, the ornate corridor opened up on one side, to pillars connected by a short wooden fence, all overlooking the garden where Zuko remembered playing as a child. His eyes landed on the pond, and he searched for turtle-ducks, but he saw none. The cherry blossoms were beginning to bloom in small clusters, and the grass was short and neat, as if there were still someone tending to it. Idly, Zuko wondered what the grass might feel like under his feet. The sunlight touched the white fabric on his legs, but the shadow of the roof was cast above his knee - still, the warmth was refreshing.
The small terrace looking onto the garden disappeared behind him as the guards led him back indoors, and he heard the voices of chatting women. He recognized neither of the voices, and the new sounds drew his interest. Finally they turned a corner, and he spotted two young, pretty noblewomen walking together toward Zuko and his guards. One of the women was heavily pregnant, and the other looked like a younger sister to her, and both were wearing funeral attire like Zuko's own. While both women looked somewhat shocked when they saw him, and his scar, they both lowered their heads respectfully as they passed. Unsure what else to do, Zuko bowed his own as well as a courtesy. When he looked up, the pregnant one was giving him a brief sort of smile, and he smiled back, wondering whom she was.
Eventually, after three left turns and a curtained archway, Zuko emerged from the shaded corridors of the palace into a large hall crowded with aristocrats and nobles dressed in white and gold, chattering in muted, respectful tones. Along the walls were more guards in armor with hard scarlet edges, and at the head of the room, about six feet off the floor was a small balcony overlooking the crowd. At the moment, the balcony was empty, but Zuko recalled a sage coming out onto it and directing the crowd to the main courtyard for Firelord Azulon's funeral.
Curiously, Zuko wondered if he would be allowed to stay for the reception after the funeral - if his memory served, there would be nibbles. Then he chastised himself mentally for thinking of food at a time like this.
"Prince Zuko!" someone said, sounding surprised, and Zuko snapped his eyes to the voice.
There was a young girl, perhaps a little younger than himself, dressed much the same, turning away from a conversation with a woman who looked like her mother. In the background, Zuko could make out five or six other girls who looked almost exactly like the girl, except for the fact that she was the only one walking his way. She seemed familiar, but he still couldn't find her place in his memory, so he simply smiled at her.
As she drew near, Zuko's younger guard seemed to stand a little straighter, but he ignored it and bowed his head a little.
"Oh, no need for that, silly!" suddenly the girl was throwing her arms around Zuko's neck in a tight hug that caught him entirely be surprise, "It's so good to see you again," she exhaled into the shoulder of his outfit, and for a beat, Zuko entirely expected for his guards to pry them apart. That didn't happen, thankfully. He hesitantly hugged her back, confused, but pleasantly surprised.
When she pulled back, he allowed his nerves onto his features. "Sorry, it's been a long time - who are you again?" he narrowed his eyes at her and shook his head, but his smile remained.
The girl looked a little surprised, but then she tucked her hands together in her lap and introduced herself. "I'm Ty Lee. I used to play with Princess Azula when we were a lot younger," she explained amicably, "You joined us a few times."
This sounded right to Zuko, and he felt himself nodding. "Right," he thought on it for a beat, "You did a lot of cartwheels."
Ty Lee's smile grew even wider. "Yep, that's me," she laughed lightly. She gave a breath and went on, lifting a hand to play with the end of her long braid, "Everyone was so upset when you got locked up in your room," she pulled her mouth apologetically to one side.
Zuko gave a nervous kind of laugh. "Yeah, so was I," he replied, not really sure what else to say.
Rocking on her feet, Ty Lee continued, "We asked a few times if we were allowed to come see you in your room, but first they said you were still healing," she vaguely motioned to her own eye, and Zuko felt a little more awkward, "and then our parents told us not to play with you anymore," she lowered her voice and looked away, "You know how politics are."
Zuko didn't entirely understand politics - since he lived, literally, in a world of his own - but he understood how people became associated with other people, and could then be considered undesirable as a result. He wouldn't have wanted his friends' reputations tarnished by his traitor status. "It's okay. My cousin comes to see me everyday to play Pai Sho, and I do get occasional visits from other people," he shrugged. "Azula… Er, Princess Azula, stopped by last time she was in the palace to have tea with me."
Ty Lee nodded a few times, looking kind of sad, "It's a shame she's always so far away, but I'm sure you must be proud of her being accepted into the Military Academy."
Zuko gave a noncommittal kind of noise, since he had somewhat conflicted feelings about it. On the one hand, he was proud of his sister for being the first female cadet in the Fire Nation's military academy in over seventy years, but on the other hand, he wasn't thrilled at the idea of Azula getting blasted to bits on a battlefront. He also wasn't entirely sure that he shared in his sister's, or indeed his people's political views (but he thought he ought to keep that to himself). "Yes, very proud," he replied simply.
At this point, an old man in a pointy hat came out onto the balcony, and Zuko looked up. Ty Lee caught on as well, silently bade him goodbye, and tottered back to her family. "If you would all move into the courtyard and take your places," the sage raised his hands and lowered his head, before turning away and disappearing again.
The nobles all filtered out of the room via the many doorways, and Zuko's guards led him after them, out and down the vast staircase to the courtyard.
In the courtyard, differing to the ceremony at Firelord Azulon's funeral, there were padded benches for the aristocrats to sit upon. At Azulon's funeral, there had been none - everyone had been required to kowtow in respect for the passing Firelord's life. Although this ceremony was supposed to be to show respect for the life of the now-dead Avatar, it seemed that nobody wanted to show too much respect - especially with people's reputations on the line. Zuko felt his jaw setting in irritation.
Zuko's guards led him to the third bench back, for some reason he thought that meant he was pretty important, going by Fire Nation aristocracy hierarchy. He probably would have been on the front bench, if he weren't a maybe-traitor. When he took too long to sit - since he didn't know if everyone was supposed to sit down at the same time - Shai gave a kind of exasperated groan, laid a hand on his shoulder, and shoved him down into his seat, before he and Lee sat down at either side of the prince. Not much later, a few aged politicians and presumably their wives came by and sat on the same bench (not without making it very obvious that they weren't sitting with him).
Ahead of him, Zuko spotted the familiar shape of Prince Lu Ten, his cousin, taking his seat on the front bench, beside the pregnant woman from earlier. A few spots over, also on the front bench, he saw the form of a young girl that he recognized as his kin. Seeming to recognize the feeling of eyes on the back of her head, the girl turned around and met his gaze with a cold one of her own. For a moment, Zuko felt the cold washing over him, as he recognized his sister's eyes staring at him. Then Azula gave a smile, and he felt more at ease. She turned around again.
Finally, the chatter faded into silence, as the crowd settled into their seating arrangement and waited patiently for the ceremony to begin. There was an odd whisper every so often, but eventually there was a resounding thump, the sound of drums in rhythm with one another, as if the heart of the ceremony had begun to beat. On the stage above the courtyard, atop the wide flight of marble steps, came a procession of Fire Sages, three from each side, approaching the raised altar at the center. The drums continued solemnly, and Zuko sat on the edge of his seat, eyes pointed up and ahead.
From one side, emerging from the shadow of the palace, cast by the high sun in the arid blue sky, six guards carried, upon their shoulders, what looked like a gurney. Atop the gurney was the vague shape of a man older and taller than Zuko was himself, covered by a white silk cloth with golden tassels adorning its edges. A few people murmured in the crowd, but they quieted soon after. The guards moved the gurney to the altar at the center of the stage, and then laid it down there. A few moments later, a High Sage in adorned red robes appeared from whence the gurney had come, carrying a scroll.
The High Sage took a place directly in front of the altar, and opened the scroll.
"Today we mark the passing of the Avatar Aang," the High Sage read aloud, and though his face was lined heavily with disgust, it didn't bleed into his flat tone of voice, "And the passing of the Air Nomads as a Nation, for he was the last airbender, and the four nations today become three. His life was one hundred and twenty six years long, and though he sought to undo the work of our beloved Firelord, he believed his path was a righteous one - for no man ever does evil knowingly…"
Zuko felt his jaw tightening once more and balled his fists inside his cuffs. In his mind, there was a flashing image; a bearded man with blue arrows on his limbs, suspended from each direction. He remembered the man struggling to eat solid food, talking nonsense for being so weak. That image in his mind, that man, didn't seem to be an evil one. The last of his kind, the only survivor of a massacre, and now he was dead. Zuko wanted to know how he'd died - but he supposed he already knew.
The sage went on humbly deprecating the Avatar, and subtly celebrating the airbender's death, and Zuko grew impatient for the end of the eulogy. Finally, with a few dramatic arm movements, the High Sage turned to the altar and gestured for the other sages to draw near.
"May your journey to the spirit world be peaceful," the High Sage declared, and then bowed his head a little bit.
The six other sages punched the air at once in the direction of the Avatar's body, and from each of their knuckles spat a bright orange flame that took hold of the white cloth over the airbender's body, and the gurney beneath. The drums picked up into a rhythmic farewell, and Zuko watched as the flames ate away at the clean cloth atop the dead man's body, revealing that beneath it, the body had been swaddled and wrapped with a darker, less lavish cloth, probably soaked with fuel, or some other flammable liquid. Once the top sheet all but burnt away, the body seemed to ignite itself once more, the flames burning high and bright.
At Azulon's funeral, every last soul present had been either royalty or a sage - everyone had stayed until the flames had burnt out, and the body was gone. So when people began to stand up and leave, Zuko felt that this was a great disrespect. He was even more affronted when his guards hauled him up and out of his seat, making in the same direction as the people leaving. He looked back and saw the sages leaving as well - just leaving the body to burn on its own - and for a moment, very desperately wanted to hit someone. Perhaps one of his guards.
Still - he was already on probation after his 'escape attempt', so he thought better than to cause a fuss.
At that moment, there was an ear-shaking roar in the sky, as if the clouds themselves had flown overhead. The aristocrats, Zuko included, looked up, and saw a dragon streaking overhead in a straight line, majestic wings rising and falling like the oars of a rowboat. The only person in the Fire Nation with a dragon of their own was the Firelord - and his dragon was a deep, dark red that was almost black. As it flew overhead, with the sun casting its shadow upon the land below, people began to talk and murmur about where the Firelord was going. Zuko wondered on it as well, but he had less time to watch, as his guards led him inside the palace.
Prince Zuko was not allowed to stay for any reception after the funeral - probably because there wasn't one. In all honesty, the people who had attended the ceremony were probably inwardly celebrating the Avatar's demise, just as the High Sage had been. This made Zuko uneasy, but he said nothing on it. The guards led him back into his room, removed the shackles and left. Shai did mention that his cleaning maid would take his funeral attire later, before they left, but Zuko was only half listening. The heavy door of his quarters slammed shut, and locked with a clunk.
Zuko reached up and immediately pulled his hair free of the topknot, throwing the hairpiece to one of the four corners of his bedroom. He was sweating inside his robes, and set about removing them, when he heard a clunking noise coming from his window, and paused. He moved over to the door onto his balcony, and shrugged off the top layer of his robes at the same time, letting them fall to the floor. He pushed open his balcony door, only a fraction, and through the bars that surrounded the small terrace, he saw men working on the balcony across from his.
Zuko's room was on the second floor, as was his balcony, and below, on the ground, there was a paved walkway, usually used by aristocrats and friends of the royal family to visit. The walkway led to a small training courtyard, where Lu Ten would sometimes challenge his friends to mock Agni Kai's, and Zuko would sometimes watch. The gap between Zuko's terrace and the one across the way was about fifty feet, just close enough that he could perhaps talk to someone if they were on it - but nobody had lived in the adjoining quarters since his mother had disappeared.
The men working on the other balcony were taking measurements, conversing about how to best install something, and Zuko watched curiously for a few minutes, before turning away and shedding the rest of his robes to the floor. He slipped back into his pajamas, since they were airy and comfortable, and it was a hot day, and then grabbed a chair and dragged it out onto the balcony. He'd spent days watching far less interesting things - a spider on the ceiling; a few kids playing hot-spot in the courtyard; the clouds overhead - so watching the men working was pleasantly entertaining.
They brought out tools, like hammers and wrenches and all manner of doohickeys that Zuko wouldn't know what to do with if someone handed him one. They drilled holes in seemingly random spots, and argued with one another about how far apart the holes should be. When they spotted him watching them, the workmen paused for a minute, but ultimately went back to work. It wasn't much later that Zuko recognized, with a sudden sickly feeling, what they were putting up around the other balcony.
Bars. Just like his.