A/N: I try not to do big notes at the start of a chapter, but there were some things I wanted to clarify before the end of this one. That said, this is only analysis, so if you don't care to read it you can skip ahead to where the chapter begins. You won't be missing anything important.

There was mixed reaction to the last chapter-most especially the Iroh scene. Some readers noted that his actions seemed out of character for such an enlightened man who only uses violence as a last resort. My take on that obviously differs...After everything (and let's face it, "everything" is a whole plethora of really nasty stuff) Ozai did to Iroh and to the ones he loves, I truly felt as though having to come home to the Fire Nation empty handed and console his shattered nephew (whom he loves like his own son) was just the last straw. When Jun's shirshu led them to an unmarked old grave somewhere in the Earth Kingdom, it wouldn't have been a far-fetched idea for him to presume that Ozai had something to do with it. And of course having witnessed Ozai's manipulative behavior on many occasions before, he would have assumed his brother was lying about Ursa being alive merely for the pleasure of playing with Zuko's head. Iroh is a just man, but he's not a saint. So in short, my explanation for Iroh's brief brutality toward Ozai is simple: He snapped. It was a momentary lapse in judgment, and he immediately regrets it.

Also, here's my take on Ozai/Ursa: In this story I've established that Ozai wasn't ever made to feel like he was "the most important" by anyone growing up. Azulon favored Iroh. His mother committed suicide when he was very young (which Ozai would have construed as meaning that she obviously didn't value him enough to stick around and see him grow up). Iroh had his career, and eventually Lu-Ten. I seriously doubt Ozai had friends. He develops a complex which drives him toward seeking that reverence and power he's been denied his whole life. And then Ursa comes along and suddenly he is #1 to someone. I think this would have brought Ozai very genuine happiness. Until Zuko is born and he has to share Ursa's attention and love. There would have been resentment and petty jealousy there, but the floodgates weren't really opened until Ursa decided that she would rather kill and die to save Zuko than lose her son and stick with Ozai. It's what any halfway decent parent would do for their child, but Ozai doesn't see it that way. Instead, it eats him up inside that the one person who ever loved him and made him happy chose Zuko over him. So, being the mature and utterly well-adjusted person he is, he hates Zuko for that. As an aside, I believe the family dynamic that resulted from Ozai's neediness and Ursa's overprotectiveness of Zuko is also why Ozai and Azula get along so fabulously. Ursa sort of ignored Azula when she wasn't busy scolding her, and a lot of Azula's childhood actions, particularly toward Zuko, just scream "this is a product of jealousy" to me. They both took a backseat to Zuko when it came to Ursa's attentions, and likely bonded (in a strange and dysfunctional way) since they had that in common.

So there you have my long winded commentary. Even if you disagree with it (and you are welcome to do so!), I hope it helps to explain why I chose to include some of the more controversial scenes from last chapter. Now, onto the next...


Chapter 11: Heat


He passed the time by counting the booms of canon fire, the powerful sounds emanating in sharp contrast to the cacophonous din of rioters roars in the air. Since Zuko had left him alone he had not tried to sleep. Part of him was half afraid of what he would see if he closed his eyes. How long had she been dead? Was she felled by the hands of another, or did her body succumb to plague or hunger? Did she die alone? There were so many questions; questions that would probably never be answered...at least not in his lifetime. For all he knew, he might be joining her in the spirit world very soon.

The little monk had come into his room shortly after sunrise. He had waved the guards away, and even told Ming to wait outside. They didn't argue with him; he was the Avatar, after all. He sat lotus style in the center of the room, his big gray eyes filled with unspoken emotion as he watched the fallen former Phoenix King. Ozai couldn't have questioned him if he'd wanted to; the steel mask still in place over the lower half of his face rendering him incapable of words. So they simply stared at one another. An hour or more had passed that way before the boy finally broke the silence.

"Where I came from we believed that all life is sacred-even if it happens to belong to someone who has done great evil. The monks taught me that taking life is never the answer. It isn't our decision, as mortals, to decide who gets to live or die. That's why I spared you on the day that I defeated you. I figured if you didn't have your bending you wouldn't be able to do the kinds of cruel, terrible things that you had before. I really thought I had found the answer. I guess I forgot to take into account that bending is a gift from the spirits, and they don't take too kindly to us meddling with their decisions." The child Avatar breathed a quiet sigh. "I should have known that the Universe would find a way to fix what I'd broken."

Ozai looked away from the boy with the arrow tattoos, turning his head to look at where the sunlight pouring through the window fell upon the floor.

"I could spirit-bend you again..."

The prisoner's gaze snapped back to the Avatar, eyes widened in horror. The spirit-bending process had been painful and violating in a way that he hoped never again to experience. It was as if his very soul had been ripped from is body, torn to shreds, and then stuffed back inside. He decided at that moment that he would rather die than endure such torture again.

"...but there's no guarantee that it would even work. And if it did, it might only be a matter of time until it wore off. It's just not a solution."

Ozai exhaled in relief, his shoulders slumping as some of the tension fled from them.

"On the other hand, you have certainly proven that you can't be trusted with your powers. Unleashing you on the world again isn't an option. And simply trying to keep you locked away is dangerous, because there is always a possibility that you might escape." The boy rubbed at his temples with his fingers. "Which means the only way to be absolutely sure you won't ever hurt anyone again is to remove you from this world."

He was almost surprised by his utter lackof surprise. As Fire Lord he had ordered thousands of executions-even performed some himself, when the condemned was high profile enough-but it had never crossed his mind until after his defeat at the hands of the Avatar that it might be his own proverbial head on the chopping block. When his life had been spared he had thought it very strange indeed.

Aang stood, or rather, he blew himself up from the floor and into a standing position. "But killing you would mean taking a life that isn't mine to take. I don't have that right." He stepped lightly over to Ozai's bound form and knelt, his fingers reaching out toward the clasp that held the mask in place. "So I've decided to take a chance on you. Zuko redeemed himself, even when I never thought he would. Maybe after you've had long enough to reflect on your misdeeds you could, too—"

Just as the Avatar's childish fingers were about to pull the clasp loose the door swung open, and in a flurry of blue the waterbender rushed into the room. "Aang, there you are..."

The boy just nodded, but much to Ozai's chagrin he did indeed stop; his hand falling away as he turned to address the approaching young woman. "Sorry, I know I was supposed to meet you for breakfast this morning. I was up all night meditating and after I spoke with the spirits about everything I felt like I needed to come here first..."

"You spoke with the spirits?" She asked, stopping in her tracks as she came to stand behind Aang. She spared a cursory glance at the prisoner, and appeared immediately relieved.

"Yeah..." he began, his brow furrowing. "I needed to know what happened with the spirit-bending. Every spirit I asked refused to discuss it, but when I went to see Koh-"

Katara's hands flew to her mouth. "Koh! Aang, you went to Koh's lair?"

Ozai, too, raised his eyebrows in disbelief. There was no darker, more horrible place in all of legend than the lair of Koh the Face Stealer. Trying to imagine this exuberant child bouncing his way down into the depths of that hell and having a conversation with the demon was difficult at best.

The Avatar shrugged sheepishly, biting his bottom lip. "It's not the first time..."

That seemed not to calm the girl all that much. "Well, what did he say?"

"It's kind of fuzzy, really. Koh talks in riddles...all the spirits do, but he's the worst one." he ran a hand over his bald head as if he were pushing imaginary hair out of his face. "I asked why the spirits had returned Ozai's bending, and he told me that it was no spirit who did it. And then he said that the one responsible is someone close to me, who has betrayed my love and friendship. Of course, he wouldn't give me a name. That would have been asking too much. The spirits are funny about naming names."

The waterbender listened attentively, folding her arms over her chest as she absently paced across the room and back.

"Hey Katara?"

"Yeah, Aang?"

He hesitated, obviously taking the time to choose his words carefully. "I hate to even consider this, but do you think Sokka might have done something?"

"...Sokka? What? Why would you think that, Aang?" Her confusion and perhaps a sliver of hurt were evident in her tone.

The Avatar placed his hands on his hips, shaking his head. "I know, I know...But he's just been acting really strange since I got here. He won't even look me in the eye." He took a deep breath, and scratched his head; his gaze sliding toward where the prisoner sat. "The guards say he's been spending a lot of time with Ozai. And then yesterday, he made that comment..."

The former Fire Lord shifted under the scrutiny, and winced as he jostled his cracked rib; nearly doubling over. Even despite the mask, pain flashed across his face.

Katara frowned, eying the prisoner warily, and then heaved a heavy sigh. One thumb flicked the cap off of her waterskin, and with the other she pulled the liquid out to glove her hand as she approached Ozai and knelt beside him. "That doesn't make any sense, Aang. Sokka doesn't know the first thing about bending or spirit-bending, or fixing chi..." Her hands were on his face, fingers focusing the healing waters around his black eye. Suddenly her jaw dropped, and the water fell from her hands to drench his shirt and pool on the floor. "Oh spirits, Aang...It's me!"

"What?" The Avatar asked, perplexed. One eyebrow rose, and he was staring at the waterbender with a look of unabashed confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"I've been healing him..." She was standing now, her hands clutching her hair as she shook her head in disbelief, "The spirit-bending had some effect on his body, physically...He was deteriorating. Zuko asked me if I could do something to help with it. Then there was that attack in the prison, and I've been healing him for weeks...WEEKS, Aang! I had no idea I was fixing anything other than his body! The water must have been restoring the chi channels that your spirit-bending destroyed..."

The gray-eyed boy laughed. "It couldn't have been you, Katara. Koh said whoever was responsible had betrayed me, and you would never do that..."

It was hard, with the mask and the aching in his side, but Ozai managed a hidden smile.

Blue eyes shone with tears, and the girl took a few timid steps toward the airbender before reaching out to take his hands in hers. She took a shuddering breath, sparing a glance at the prisoner before turning to look the boy in the face. "Aang, you and I need to talk."

The humor had fled from the young Avatar's eyes. He wasn't laughing anymore.

"Come on." she whispered, and let go of one of his hands, pulling him toward the door with the other. "Let's go find someplace to sit down."

The Avatar allowed himself to be led toward the door. Before he stepped through it he turned his bald head to look over his shoulder one last time at man in chains.

Ozai almost felt sorry for him.


He had little appetite, though the fire burning in the pit of his stomach was demanding sustenance. Firebenders were generally a hungry lot for such reasons. Hours had passed since the waterbender and the Avatar had left him, and he filled the time hoping for all the ways the child might lose his temper and dismember his traitorous son. Now thatwould be a sight to behold.

"No, it's alright. I've got this." he heard Ming's voice carry in from the hallway as the door cracked open. It seemed she was waiting for a response from whomever it was she had spoken to, and then she entered-her arms laden with the tray that carried a bowl of dumplings and a cup of water.

He offered a muffled sound in greeting, and watched as she crossed the room to kneel before him. She was alone, which seemed strange. Since he had been declared 'dangerous' once again, she hadn't come to him with anything less than two other guards in tow.

"I'm sorry I'm late with your breakfast." she said, one corner of her mouth tugging up into a gentle smile. Setting the tray down beside her, she set the chopsticks along the rim of the bowl of dumplings and picked it up with one hand. "Things have been buzzing around the palace this morning." Her other hand rose to his face, to the latch that would remove the awful mask. She paused, and held his gaze.

Although she didn't bother to speak the words, he gathered her meaning. Don't burn me to a crisp, please. He nodded. Ming was too useful to kill.

Satisfied, the guardswoman deftly unhinged the latch and pulled the offending piece of metal away from his face. She waited a moment for him to take a few deep breaths before picking up the chopsticks and digging them into the dumplings, securing one between them. "Your eye looks better than it did last night."

Ozai looked down at the offered morsel, and despite his mental aversion to food at the moment, his stomach growled. He opened his mouth and permitted Ming to feed him. One dumpling fell from the chopsticks as he bit into it, and she caught it in her hand before popping the remainder into his mouth with her fingers. She smiled sweetly at him, and he rankled at being hand-fed like a tame kimodo-rhino. "I'm finished." he declared, more abrasively than was necessary.

"Of course. Here, drink something." She raised the cup to his lips and helped him to drink before adding almost as an afterthought, "The Avatar is gone."

"What?" He asked incredulously, water still dribbling down his chin.

Ming set the cup aside and pulled a handkerchief from her gauntlet, wiping his face dry. "He left this morning. There was a big scene in the throne room...Rumor is things got really heated between him and Fire Lord Zuko. I wasn't there, but you know how swiftly word travels here in the palace. He flew off on his little winged contraption-left his sky bison and everything. No one's really sure where he went, but Master Katara was very upset."

It took Ozai a moment to realize that he was smiling.

The guardswoman frowned, looking him in the eyes with a mixture of knowing accusation. "What did you do?"

He shrugged and answered honestly. "Absolutely nothing." It was true. Technically.

She breathed a quiet sigh and stacked the dishes back upon the tray. "Ozai?"

"Hm?"

"What would you do, if you were free?"

The prisoner raised an eyebrow at his jailor, studying her delicate features as she watched him. "That's a stupid question."

"So give me a stupid answer."

"I'd defeat the Avatar, finish burning my son's face off, and take back my throne."

Ming groaned. "You're right. That is a stupid answer."

"Ming?"

She was reaching for the mask. "What is it?"

He wasn't really sure why he asked. Perhaps it was to delay the replacement of the offending mask upon his face, or maybe a part of him really was a little curious. "What would you have me do, if I were free?"

That pretty smile spread across her lips again, and she leaned in to place a chaste kiss on his cheek. "Run away with me. We could hop a freighter out of the Fire Nation-Go East to the Earth Kingdom. Maybe Omashu? Or further North..." Her fingers brushed gently across his blackened eye. "Blend in. Find work...make a new life for ourselves. It wouldn't be easy, and we'd have to hide our firebending, but we could do it." She kissed him again. "We could be happy."

He wanted to laugh at her; to mock her ridiculous fantasy and tell her that he could never find happiness with a peasant; never toil away like some common Earth Kingdom scum while the usurper sat on his throne, driving his Nation to ruin. But when she cupped his cheek in her hand and smiled again; her dull honey-colored eyes watching him expectantly, he was reminded of Ursa and all the derision died on his tongue. "That sounds...nice..."


Thunder boomed in the distance. Monsoon season was wrapping up, evening was setting in, and as weather patterns shifted toward the hot dry season such instability in the atmosphere often created storms of lightning and thunder without the rains. The sound pierced the silence of his room again, and he turned his head to watch the window. The sun would set soon.

The fire within him was flickering as the source of its power waned into night. He could feel it in his core, and through his veins. It was a faint sensation-in no way as raw and intense as it had been before the Avatar's victory over him. But it was there. He longed to stoke the flame with deep breaths and strong forms, but at present his mask and shackles stole such possibilities away. He contented himself for the time being with meditation. Or attempts at meditation. The booming thunder; growing louder and more insistent by the moment, made it difficult to concentrate.

The most deafening crack of thunder yet sounded in his ears, and he winced. It had been so furious that the very walls of the palace shook.

He looked once again toward the window, out into the night sky. It was orange with the ruddy glow of flame and smoke. Another thunderous boom assaulted his ears, and then he saw flames surge higher-smoke billowing in thick black waves. There was a tremendous roar, and he realized that it was the cacophony of tens of thousands of voices just outside the palace walls, all raised in frightful elation.

Yes, there was a storm coming. But it had nothing to do with the weather.


A/N: I rambled way too much at the beginning, so I'll keep this short. Aang is very difficult for me to write, mostly because I don't think like him at all. I hope I didn't do his character too much injustice. A part of me almost wishes I could have shown him and Katara having the talk, but I honestly feel like she would NEVER give Ozai the satisfaction of having that discussion in front of him. So he gets to hear about the aftermath from Ming instead. And speaking of Ming...I DEFINITELY don't think Ozai feels the same way about her as she does about him, but she might just be a little too smitten to realize that. A lot of women eventually find that to be the case when they have a thing for bad boys.

As for the last bit...You all didn't really think Zuko could ignore the riots for so long and not face the consequences, did you?

Reviewers, as always, I am ever so grateful that you have taken the time to share your thoughts. AND your criticisms. My skin is thick and my writing can only be improved with your constructive feedback and suggestions, so please don't shy away from telling me what you really thing. I may not always agree, but understanding reader reception is part of the process. So thank you!

See you next chapter!