AN: Hey guys! I'm sorry that this took so long to get up, but at least, it's here now. Though I don't think this is my best work, so sorry about that. This also might go a way you're not expecting because I finally figured out how this was going to differ from the canon.

Disclaimer- I don't own Avatar.

Enjoy!

Book one: Family

Chapter Four: The Tears of the Earth

Drip

Drip

Rain, how appropriate.

Drip

Drip

The world was crying the tears that I couldn't seem to make fall myself.

Drip

Drip

I could have stopped him if I would have just tried harder. I could have even convinced him to join the Navvy instead.

Drip

Drip

Why didn't I stop him?

Drip

Drip

I closed my eyes, too tired to try and move from the ground. The rain was just tears the world cried for her children. Children that the fire nation killed every day. Children that we burnt to the ground, turning their home to ash with a simple flick of our wrist. It was always raining somewhere.

It should rain more here. We deserve it.

Splosh

Splosh

I didn't bother to turn my head to the oncoming footsteps. It wasn't him, it would never be him again. And when they talked, no doubt saying the same thing everyone had been saying since the hawk arrived, it wouldn't be his voice.

But they didn't talk. Just stood there, blocking the rain from streaming down my face like the tears that should be coming from me.

My eyes didn't focus on the figure, and I didn't have the energy to try and make them. It didn't matter who they were when I knew who it wasn't.

Maybe it was Ozai come to kill me so that he could take the throne.

"Roku."

Not Ozai then.

The person knelt down, his no doubt expensive robe falling into the mud I was laying in. The rain resumed it's onslaught onto my face.

A wrinkled hand threaded itself through my hair.

"You need to come inside."

I didn't care to answer him. I wasn't going inside to the people who thought they knew what was going through my head. They were just going to give me the same empty words they had on repeat.

I wondered if Ozai had approached Azulon with his proposition yet. What would he say now that I was still here? Would he tell my grandfather about my lack of power? Claiming that I would never be a worthy Firelord when my fire could barely grow bigger than a candle flame.

I wouldn't blame him if he did. I was weak after all, I couldn't even manage to save my older brother from dying in war. Even when I knew the future, I had no power to stop it.

"You'll catch you the death of cold if you stay in this rain."

I let my eyes slide over to his form. His hand was still moving through my matted hair, impersonating the feel of Iroh's when he sang me to sleep. But Iroh wasn't here, he had left me as well.

Maybe he knew it was my fault too.

"Good," I whispered, using my voice for the first time in days.

The hand froze. "I've already lost one grandson this week, you want me to lose another?"

Guilt stabbed my heart. Why did he have to put it like that?

I slid my eyes back to the sky. Basking in the feel of the rain trickling down my face, and imaging that they were my tears. The tears who refused to fall.

Gentle hands moved under me, gliding through the mud and lifting me from it. My body moved automatically as my head to came to rest on his chest and my hands gripped the red silk.

He was so warm. The opposite of my brother, who would never be warm again.

All because of me.

With the letter of Lu Ten's death came Ursa's crying face, Zuko's look of confusion laced with hurt, Azula's revelation, and Ozai . . . well Ozai's delight. It was everything he had barely dared to hope for. With Lu Ten out of the picture, there was nothing substantial between him and the throne. Iroh couldn't take the throne without an heir, and without Lu Ten he had no real heir.

Of course there was Roku, but would make no impact on an argument against Ozai. The kid wasn't even a fire-bender. Sure he was known to make a small flame every now and again. But he would never be strong enough to become the Fire-lord. Ozai knew that, and he was sure his father felt the same.

At least, he was sure until a week after the Siege of Ba Sing Sa was abandoned and he went to approach his father with a proposition. A proposition that would end with Ozai being the crown prince, and just a few short year between him and death of his father.

So when he approached the throne room he felt confidant. He decided to forgo the show of Azula's prodigy in fire-bending, for fear of reminding his father of that worthless scrap that he called a grandson, and go for the more direct path. The confidence inside of him grew as his father's short welcome came from behind the doors, and he walked the long stride to the large flames.

"Father." He greeted with the customary bow.

"Ozai." Azulon's rough voice answered. "What can I do for you?"

"You must have realized as I have, father. That with Lu Ten gone, Iroh has no suitable heir. After his son's death, my brother has abandoned his siege on Ba Sing Sa, and who knows when he will return home."

Azulon stayed quiet, and unreadable expression on his face. Ozai took this as a sign of agreement and continued his monologue.

"I am here father, and my heir is alive."

"You say your brother's bloodline has ended, but what do you have to say about Ruko?" Azulon asked.

"Roku," Ozai replied. "Is not suitable for the throne. He is weak, my children are not."

"Say what it is you want."

"Father," Ozai said. "Revoke Iroh's birthright. I am your humble servant here to serve you, and our nation. Use me."

An unexpected sneer worked it's way onto the Firelord's face. "You dare suggest I betray Iroh?! My first born! So quickly after the demise of his beloved son!"

A small flash of panic ran through Ozai, this was not what he had anticipated. His father was supposed to agree, but be reluctant to turn over the birthright for fear of how the people would react.

"I think Iroh had suffered enough." Azulon continued. "But you?! Your punishment has scarcely begun!"

Ozai's heart beat faster. What was his father going to do?

"Your punishment should fit your crimes." His father growled. "You too will know the pain of losing a first born son. By sacrificing your own!"

Relief flooded through Ozai, but he made sure not to show it. His father shouldn't know that this is something Ozai had craved an excuse to do since the day he read Ursa's letter. Of course he knew that Zuko was his. But he had always been more Ursa than Ozai, and that made him weak. He had been waiting for the right time to stage an accident, but this was much better.

He bowed his head, as if in pain. "Yes, father." He said.

Strolling through the tall doors, he smiled. This may not be what he had wanted, but it was still a good thing. He could handle getting the throne at a later date. For now he was happy knowing that his worthless son would soon be gone.

Sleep did not come easily for me in the days following Lu Ten's death. In fact sleep seemed to be elusive since the day Iroh left, taking his soothing lullaby with him.

Sighing, I turned onto my back and stared up at the glow of the moon reflecting on my ceiling. Life was strange, very strange. Just eleven years ago I was a teenager in a world where fire-benders and the Fire Nation only existed in a cartoon. And in those eleven years I went from a fifteenth year old boy, to a delighted toddler, to a preteen so full of angst it was disgusting.

But the strangest part wasn't the whole waking up as an infant in an alternate universe, or becoming a person that could literally create fire (sort of). It was the fact that I didn't feel any older then when I died. Sure I knew more of the love and pain in the world, but I didn't feel like a twenty-six year old. I still felt like the fifteen year old who got lost on the way home and ended up with a sledgehammer in his head.

While I knew that I was more mature, I still didn't fell all that different in age. In someways I even felt more like I was eleven than fifteen. Though I couldn't tell exactly why I had an idea. Isn't it what people always say, that age is just a number? I knew now true that was.

I took a deep breath, opening my eyes from where I had let the drift closed. Age, it was a good distraction to my inner pain, but it ran out of content rather quickly. With a small turn of my head, I gazed out the wide windows looking out onto the courtyard. The small duck pond glowed with the light of the moon in an otherworldly way. The turtle ducks had all gone to bed, and yard was undisturbed as the palace slept. Then, as quickly as a snake striking, a darkly cloaked figure darted across the path and disappeared behind the wall blocking my view.

So quickly it hurt, I bolted upright, my mind racing at a million miles per hour. Was it an assassin from the Earth Kingdom here to take away Iroh's last living heir? Or was it a spirit here to punish the royal family for the war?

The floor boards creaked as figure made it's way into the main room and approached my door. Fighting off every urge I had to duck under the covers, I slowly slid back into my bed and away from the door. In a cliche show of suspense, the door creaked as it was pushed. As it opened I couldn't seem to make myself do anything beside watch the figure come forward. It's long cloak just barely sliding across the floor. After two steps, arms reached up and pulled back the deep hood to reveal the solemn face of Ursa.

Suddenly I understood. It was time. Time for Azulon to die and Ozai to take the throne in Iroh's absence. I hadn't prepared for this night, not truly thinking it wouldn't come with my presence as Iroh's heir. But Ozai had always hated me, and ever since he learned of my nonexistent skill in fire-bending, he had thought me useless.

But that did nit explain why Ursa was in my room. She should have been in Zuko's room, or Azula's.

"Aunt?" I whispered into the silence.

A smile born somewhere between pain and reassurance spread across her face. "Nephew. I need you to get dressed."

Dressed? What?

"Why?"

Not ready to wait, she strode forward in quick, sure steps to my drawers. Starting to pull out a simple outfit, taking my winter cloak from where it sat hidden under many layers. I had never used it.

"Aunt?" I whispered.

"Hurry Roku," She demanded, pulling me out of bed. "We need to go."

I followed her hands. Getting changed quickly into the clothing she played out and shadowing her as she hurried out into the main room. This is where I stopped. The room was the one place where I could still feel Lu Ten's laugh. I wasn't going to abandon it without an explanation.

"Ursa," I called.

As if broken out of trance, she jolted. A wide, almost scared expression spread across her face as she turned to gaze at me with her wide amber eyes.

"Whats happening?" I asked with desperation. I needed an answered before I followed her out into places unknown.

"We need to hurry." Was her only answer was she stretched a hand out for me to take?

"Why?"

"To save your life."

When Iroh's ship docked on Fire Nation shores, he was met with a wave of grave news. His father had died in the night. A sudden fever suspected taking him, too quick to be had disappeared the very same night making her a most promising suspect.

Though that was a near bruise on the gapping wound he had been given.

Not only had Ursa vanished, but so had Roku. Leaving his bed unslept in, and no sign of struggle. It was as if he

His son, Iroh's baby boy, was gone, missing, kidnapped.

Now, Iroh was not stupid enough to think Ursa would kill Azulon for no reason and then flee without her children So he didn't blame her. He didn't blame Ozai either, even though he knew that it was his fault. The only person that was to blame was him.

He was the one that had obsessed over taking Ba Sing Sa for himself. That vision he had seen in the dragons' flame, the one of him taking the great Earth Kingdom capital for himself, had been a lie. A clever trick that had lead to him losing not one, but both of his beloved sons.

So as Iroh stepped into the room where he had watched both his sons take their first steps, he made no attempt to hold back the tears. For he would never see his oldest again, and his youngest was gone. Stolen away into the night. The walk was short to Roku's room, but by the time he got there he felt as if he had been walking for miles.

The bed was still soft, just as it was the last night he had laid in it with his son and sang the lullaby that had always guaranteed his sleep. As Iroh sat down the bed crumpled, just like . . . wait crumpled?

In a moment, he had lifted himself off the bed and grabbed the note that had been stuffed underneath the thin cover. Ripping the paper open with shaking hands he quickly absorbed every word scribbled on it in a haste.

Father,

I am truly sorry for abandoning you in such a time, but know that it is not my wish to go. If there was any other choice I would stay. Waiting for your arrival that I have no doubt would help dull the pain of Lu Ten's death. But there is no other choice, it is not safe for me her e. I am sorry for being the cause of you losing both of your sons. And nothing I can say will help you with the pain. So just know that I am alive father, and I am safe.

I will always love you,

Roku

The tears came faster now. Running down Iroh's new wrinkles and into his rapidly greying beard.

I 'll love you forever, my sweet baby boy.