Author's Note: And here, once again, we have a chapter that doesn't really tie in at all to Urzai! XD I gues that's not true; it does involve Ozai, so it's connected. I tried to explore another facet of the royal family in this chapter: the little matter of broken communication between father and son.
Based on some of my reviewers' comments, I feel like I might be misrepresenting my goal with this story. The goal was really not to make Ozai more likeable (although I consider that kind of an act of Hercules, considering I tried to keep him in-character). The goal was to portray Urzai in just one of many-probaby hundreds-of ways it could be portrayed. I guess that, by writing Ozai as a young, still somehwat idealistic prince, I have made him more appealing than crazy, Zuko-hating In-series Ozai. This chapter is probably going to enhance the likeable factor. But, please, don't think I'm trying to give him a free pass for all the bad things he did. I'm not.
Okay, rant over: enjoy!
Song: Can't Take Me by Bryan Adams .com/watch?v=g13zMlULFnA&feature=BFa&list=PL384BBDBCF7119BA5&lf=plpp_video (this was on repeat while I wrote; I don't know why)
11.
"I suppose you are happy about this recent development?" Firelord Azulon's voice echoed around the chamber in increasing circles of sound.
From his position on the floor, Ozai lowered his head and said nothing.
"I don't even have to ask," Azulon continued, with a rough laugh. "You would not be a true son of the line of Sozin if you were upset about your brother's injury, would you?" When his son did not respond, he turned, pinning Ozai with a shrewd gaze. "Perhaps, you think that I disapprove of your eagerness for the throne?"
"I don't want the throne," Ozai said, and added, "My Lord." He kept his silent addition to the phrase-"not yet"-hanging in the air between them.
Azulon made a skeptical noise in his throat and resumed his pacing. "You have a long way to go before you could qualify for a high-ranking position in this government, Ozai." He noticed the tense set of his son's shoulders and snorted. "That is not a criticism; I would say the same for any inexperienced eighteen year-old."
"But-"
"You have the potential to be a great asset to this nation. Your ambition can be a strong point, if it allows you to live longer than three or four decades."
Ozai looked up, a dark flash thundering in his golden eyes. He looked as if he very much wanted to lash out with tools more blistering than fire: his clever words. Safely turned from his son's gaze, the Firelord smiled. Then he spoke again, injecting some venom into his words. "Don't be so quick to retort, Ozai; I am your Firelord before I am your father."
"I know that."
"You know many things, don't you?"
"I don't even know what you want me to say," Ozai said, trying to hide his growing frustration.
"Perhaps I want you to stay silent, and listen to someone older and wiser than you."
For a moment there was silence, as the elderly Firelord watched his youngest son struggle to restrain himself. Finally, Ozai nodded. "As you wish, Father."
Yes, Azulon knew, it was as he wished; everything within his nation was ordered according to his wishes, except for the three things that mattered the most to him. One of them sat before him now, young, burning with a fire only a young and restless man can sustain. Azulon could recognize the flame of bottled-up youth on sight. He had, after all, been young once. Although his own youth had taken place nearly six generations before Ozai had been brought into the world, he doubted that much had changed in a youth's heart since then.
However, just because he could recall acting as insolent and sullen as his youngest child, that did not mean he could allow Ozai to remain an impatient youth forever.
"You are angry with me, Ozai," Azulon said, folding his crimson-clad arms across his chest. "You think that you are ready to go to war, and you resent the fact that you have been held back by your doddering old father in favor of your elder brother. Is that not right?"
"Not exactly," Ozai muttered.
"Speak up, boy-my ears are not as keen as they used to be."
"I said, 'Not exactly,' Father."
"I hope you said it in a much more respectful tone, the first time around."
Ozai took a deep breath, and the wall of fire snapped behind the Firelord. Azulon raised his eyebrows at his son. To take control of the ceremonial fire of the throne was a serious offense, and to snap the fire whilst the Firelord had his back to the flames bordered on suicidal. Ozai, however, did not even seem to realize that his temper could get him killed-or banished. In fact, he did not seem to realize he had caused the fire to move, at all.
Briefly, Azulon was envious of his son's raw power.
"Father," Ozai said tightly, regaining Azulon's attention, "I must respectfully ask that you tell me why you have summoned me. I don't have Iroh's depth of comprehension for mind games."
Azulon did his best not to snort. If there was a man more intelligent in the entire nation than Ozai, he deserved some kind of medal. "I did not bring you here to toy with you, Prince Ozai. I was merely dawdling in pointless conversation, like every old man does."
The Firelord chose to ignore the way his son rolled his eyes as he replied, "Forgive my presumption, My Lord."
"I will, for the time being." Snapping his heels together, the Firelord looked down at his son from his considerable height. Azulon wished, for a moment, that he could take the space opposite Ozai on the shining wooden floor; his knees had had a habit of giving out at inopportune times for years.
The Firelord also knew that he had a role to fulfill, like everyone else in the nation, and the duties of that role took priority. Ozai, who had always been the more restless of his two sons, would have demanded too much of the Firelord's time. If he had given the prince the attention he truly needed, he would have had little time for ruling the Fire Nation.
Besides, Azulon thought briskly, he had kept quite a few nursemaids from starving on the streets by producing another heir. Even in that respect, he had been serving his country.
"I have received word that Iroh cannot be moved until next week, at the earliest," Azulon said, breaking the silence that, to him, had grown stale. Ozai nodded and returned his gaze to the floor. His son's uncharacteristic subservience made the Firelord's eyes narrow. "Of course, even after he returns to the palace, he will be bed-ridden for another month. Do you know what that means?"
"Yes, My Lord," Ozai said.
"Enlighten me, Ozai."
"I must continue to serve as Crown Prince, for the time being. " Ozai kept his voice carefully blank, but Azulon could read body language as well as any Dai Li interrogator. He could see that the strain of sudden pressure and responsibility was wearing on his youngest son.
In the past two weeks, Ozai had been harrassed by generals, hustled from bed at odd hours of the night, and harangued by everyone from the hawk-keeper to the Firelord. The boy only had a moment of peace when he literally passed out from exhaustion.
On top of that, Lu Ten had attached himself to his uncle, turning up in the middle of meetings and hiding behind Ozai when the generals got angry at the intrusion. Azulon himself had heard the older prince talking himself hoarse, trying to appease the officials and comfort Lu Ten at once.
Ultimately, the blame for the interruptions was laid at Ozai's feet; the generals told him that he needed to punish Lu Ten for his insolence. The incompetency of nannies and servants was never mentioned. Men of the Fire Nation were expected to deal with their younger relatives' behavior personally, because it reflected so greatly upon their own reputation.
Azulon found it extremely interesting that, despite his repeated assurances that he would deal harshly with Lu Ten, Ozai never acted on the words. The Firelord suspected that his son's reluctance to raise a hand against the youngest prince had something to do with Azulon's own fondness for Lu Ten, but something told him that there was more to the situation than Ozai's fear of retribution.
Azulon almost felt guilty for the flash of satisfaction that ran through him as he studied his son's tight face and dark-shadowed eyes. Perhaps, after his brush with true responsonsibility, Ozai would not be so quick to jump on opportunities for power. Perhaps, after living for a few weeks in his brother's shoes, he could learn to respect Iroh just a little more.
Yes, Azulon thought dryly, and perhaps earthbenders would learn how to fly. Knowing Ozai, his son was certain that he was handling the matters of the crown prince better than Iroh ever could.
This thought prompted several sharp words. "You will be required to continue on as Crown Prince for at least another month, while Iroh makes a full recovery," Azulon said. "Do your best to represent Iroh as he would have you represent him; do not turn this temporary duty into a quest for personal glory."
"I won't, My Lord."
"Iroh is a fine prince, and his policies might be-" Azulon searched for an apt description, "-unorthodox, but they are effective. Use his tactics, and your job shall be that much easier."
"Yes, Father."
Azulon sighed at his son's toneless reply. "You have no intention of obeying my orders, do you?"
Ozai chewed on a response before saying, "No."
The Firelord swore. "Why must you be so difficult, Ozai?"
As if to prove the Firelord's point, the prince lowered his head in silence. At last, he said something, but this time the elderly ruler could not catch the words.
"I told you before to speak up, boy!"
"I am not Iroh," Ozai said, meeting his father's eyes for the first time that day. "I can't ever be Iroh. It's pointless for me to try to be like him."
The Firelord frowned at his youngest son. "I never said you had to be Iroh," Azulon said, turning back to the wall of fire. "I just said you have to act like him. You're a capable boy, Ozai; I am sure you can accomplish that simple task."
And with that, the Firelord strode back up to his dais, the place where he felt in control. His son still knelt upon the floor. The old man pretended not to hear Ozai's final whisper.
"But, I can't."
