Notes: Many apologies for the late update! I finally found some free time and presence of mind today, and will post more once I'm settled in after the wedding. Also I need something to get my mind off the jitters.
The lines in the war chamber scenes are from Episode 1.12, "The Storm," either spoken directly or paraphrased in that episode.
Shadow of the Dragon King
Chapter 16: Opinions
"Zuko, you cannot openly oppose the war. It is too dangerous."
"Who are you to decide what I can or can't do? Do I look like lazy fat man like you, wasting my days on Pai Sho and tea?" (Questions)
"A year or two at the summer house on Ember Island should be enough for the rumors to cool. In the meantime I have your brother by my side." Ozai smiled down at Azula. (Bargains)
"I know how loyal you are, Prince Zuko." Ozai bent forward to place a hand on Zuko's shoulder. "Make certain that others know it as well." (Confrontations)
The tiles were in place. As he walked down the hall he could see where the harmonies lined up and where the potential for disruptions lay. He had lined up the generals' support against the invasion of Huakang and Beiyang, perhaps just enough to press the weight of military opinion against the plan. Kai he already had. Xing he had brought over. Lak he could keep silent with what he knew about the grain stores at Sewan Garrison. As for Shu-
"Let me in."
Iroh's gaze went to the entrance to the war chamber at the end of the hall. Surely it could not be—yet there he was in full armor at the entrance to the war chamber, facing off against the guards who barred his way.
"Prince Zuko." Iroh did not know how he had reached his nephew. He drew Zuko away by the shoulders, half wishing he could give the boy a good shake. "What's wrong?"
His mind raced as Zuko explained that he wanted to attend the war meeting. Uninvited, naturally. Iroh felt a headache coming on. He should send Zuko away: halting the operation on Huakang and Beiyang was a delicate enough operation without the boy there to arouse Ozai's suspicions. But would Zuko listen? Do I look like lazy fat man like you?
Iroh earned a little time drawing Zuko away from the door and laughing about how dreadfully boring these meetings were, which was true. On most days they were simple formalities, with the Firelord giving advance approval of the agenda and the plan. Except today, when Iroh had made the moves and lined up the pieces to change the script.
No, today's meeting would not be boring. Not on this day of all days, when Zuko should have stayed away so Iroh could bear the risk of failure alone.
Zuko looked into his eyes. "If I'm going to rule this nation one day, don't you think I should start learning as much as I can?"
Iroh heard the meaning beneath the surface words. If I'm going to rule... So it came to this. Would he deny Zuko's place in the affairs of the state he would rule?
He had to make a decision, and now. He could order Zuko back to his rooms, but Zuko might well try to force his way in and earn Ozai's ire. If the boy could barge into his father's throne room, why not the war chamber? Better he be there on invitation, so that any responsibility for his presence fell on Iroh.
"Very well." As he made Zuko promise not to speak, Iroh reflected that this turn of events might be a blessing in disguise. As long as Zuko stayed silent and deferential, and he had no reason not to be, Ozai might even respect his son the better for his initiative.
"Thank you, Uncle!" Zuko bowed, smiling. Iroh felt the smile reflected on his own face as he put an arm around Zuko's shoulders, so much higher from the ground and broader than before, and walked to the entrance of the war chamber with his nephew by his side.
As he parted the emblazoned drapes Iroh's thoughts went to Azula, and how cruel this could be to her. Already beleaguered with the shadow of suspicion on her, she would no doubt be sent away from court if Zuko further gained his father's favor. Things could go even worse for her if her companion Mai agreed to divulge incriminating information, as Iroh hoped.
Yet exile was light enough punishment compared to Azula's crime, and better in the long run. A few seasons away from court might see her stop dressing like a boy and start turning to less brutal pursuits. It would be a happier turn for everyone, most of all for Azula herself.
As General Shu gave his presentation Iroh met, in fleeting glimpses, the eyes of the generals he knew were with him. Ideally the others would confront Shu and challenge the invasion plan, though he would step up to speak himself if he must.
"The Earth Kingdom defenses are concentrated here." Shu pointed out the strongholds along the coastline between Huakang and Beiyang defended by their strongest battalions. Iroh had faced one of those, the Stone Fists, when they came south to reinforce Ba Sing Se's defenses. Not having to repeat the experience was one reason to be glad of his retirement. If this invasion plan went through, the units Shu chose and Ozai approved to break through their defenses would not be so lucky.
"So I am recommending the Forty-first Division." Shu slid a flame marker forward.
Iroh had a split second of disorientation where he did not remember there being a Forty-first, when General Kai spoke up. "But the Forty-first is entirely new recruits!" Iroh then remembered the new division that was being put together from the funds that Lord Zhao and others had so generously provided to the crown.
General Kai asked the the reasonable man's question: How did Shu expect barely-trained conscripts to defeat perhaps the deadliest group of earthbenders since the once-famed Eight Pillars? Somehow, Iroh felt the tension growing between his shoulderblades as he listened; he had to keep himself from shouting at Kai to stop. He felt he struggled with the shadows that filled the room and writhed away from his grasp. He looked at Ozai out of the corner of an eye, a shadow himself behind his screen of flame.
Shu's answer came like the fall of an ax, that he did not expect the raw recruits of the Forty-first to work miracles. He went on to outline his plan to use the division as bait, and everything in Iroh, general and prince, screamed at the wrongness of it. Why was Shu focusing entirely on the purported distraction, as though the body of the plan did not even matter? Why did he use none of the euphemisms proper for this august company, 'tactical diversion' or 'unavoidable sacrifice' or any of the rest?
Too late, Iroh remembered the spark of surprise followed by almost predatory interest in Shu's eyes when Zuko had entered the room— General Shu with his many friends, including his protege Lieutenant Zhao, Lord Zhao's son who was so close to Azula. The shadows leapt from their corners and pounced.
Iroh sensed Zuko move next to him. He saw once again Zuko's haunted eyes in the wake of the deaths and destruction he had been forced to endure. Zuko, who had refused to let other children be the bait to save his life. Zuko, who had watched his friend die defending him. Zuko, who lashed out at his pain with anger just like-
-so cold, his hands his face like bitter winter. That impossible frontal charge at the enemy as though his father would not know this way. What possessed the father to dream that berating the son would snap him out of the night terrors and bring the life back to his eyes, make a man out of him and now it was too late my Lu Ten forgive me
Through a darkness crowded with nightmares he reached for Zuko and took hold of an arm before the boy could rise. Don't leave me, son. But Zuko shook him off so brusquely that Iroh had to catch himself from falling flat on his back, stumbling like the blind fool he was who never saw the trap in his path.
No, not his path.
Zuko's.
"You can't sacrifice an entire division like that!" Zuko sprang to his feet, his voice breaking through the order of the chamber. "Those soldiers love and defend our Nation. How can you betray them?"
In the silence that followed Iroh watched the military leaders as their hearts turned from Zuko, even those who agreed with him in opposing the invasion plan. Who was this boy to tell them how to conduct their war, where sacrifices were inevitable?
From there it was but a step to opposing the war itself.
The shadows withdrew to become denser darkness in the corners as roaring light lit the room. Iroh felt the heat on his back and breathed the stink of burning oil, Ozai's suspicion of his own son come to its full hellish bloom.
"Prince Zuko." Ozai did not raise his voice, nor did he have to. The flames that reached toward the ceiling and burned the breath away were enough. "We have tolerated your uninvited presence in this war meeting, for a desire to learn is a commendable thing in a prince."
"Father, you heard what-"
"Silence!" Zuko froze. "You have repaid our indulgence with utter disregard for the proceedings in this room and the gravity of our business here. You have disrespected the authority of your Firelord."
"No, sir. It is General Shu who disrespected your authority, by suggesting the callous slaughter of your own subjects." Zuko pointed at the General, whose face in the firelight was the color of curdled milk.
"All I have done in my six decades of service was for the glory of our Nation." Shu formed his hands into the flame salute and bowed. "I will not permit any man to challenge that, much less a child who has not learned to conduct himself as his station demands."
"Well, Prince, General." Ozai settled into his seat as though to watch an oxboar-baiting. "If neither of you will yield in this matter, you are aware there is only one way to resolve it."
The silence pressed in, punctuated by the crackle of Ozai's flames. Zuko turned to face General Shu. "I'm not afraid."
Yet you should be. Iroh closed his eyes, each pound of his heart a new strike of pain. His nephew did not know enough to be afraid, and so it fell to Iroh to fear for him every waking hour and in every dream he woke from gasping.
"Tomorrow at noon, then." Ozai's tone was final. "At the Arena of Justice. Let the man with the fire of his cause prevail."
Forgive me, Iroh entreated the both of them, the boys he could not save from the shadows of their own minds. I brought you to this. He bowed his head, Azula's laughter ringing in his ears.
"All we are saying, Princess, is that-"
"-this is a matter you may wish to consider-"
"I don't need to consider anything." Azula turned from the cobalt dusk outside her window to Li and Lo, eyes flashing. "I am not touching this filth."
"If the rumor is true..."
"It is not." Azula shuddered as though a spider-snake crawled up her back. "Do you think I've been idle? The peasant was with whelp before Zuko ever heard of Tamalan."
"No doubt you are right, Princess. However, the important thing is not whether Prince Zuko has sired an illegitimate child-"
"-but that he is perceived as having done so. This may work to your advantage."
Azula's smile was sharp. "It won't. Father was pleased that Zuko is 'a man' now. Can you imagine what would happen if the merest whiff of such a rumor existed about me?"
Lo recoiled while Li hissed, "Your Highness! Lower your voice!"
"Thank you kindly, you just proved my point. Now leave me."
"Princess-"
Azula's small, even teeth gleamed in the waning light. "How dare you suggest I go near this? Do you think I cannot douse Zuko's flame—Zuko's!—without dealing in foul lies?"
"Of course not, Princess." Li and Lo exchanged a sidelong glance and started retreating at the same time.
Heavy booted feet, not quite running but obviously hurried, approached down the hall and stopped outside the door. The glimmers of Azula's eyes swung toward the sound, and the twins bowed in a synchronized motion.
"We will take our leave of you, Princess."
Azula nodded, her eyes fixed on the door. She watched unmoving as a solid figure in armor brushed past the old women on his way in. She did not wait for Zhao to finish bowing before she spoke.
"Lieutenant. What news from the war chamber?"
Zhao's eyes were dazed even as a grin spread over his face, as though he had gained a windfall such as he had never imagined.
"I'm afraid you won't believe me, your Highness."
The cheers rose as he climbed the boarding ramp onto the deck. It was hard to keep the smile off his face, though he knew grinning like an idiot did not befit the fine sash he wore, its touch like a caress whenever it brushed his neck.
They started up the applause as he walked among them, the sound washing over him like a wave. He looked and nodded to them as he passed, the young men wearing the kind of face-splitting grin he was trying to repress, the non-coms with their looks of approval. The officers nodded and saluted, and if some of them were more polite than pleased he could live with that.
"Sir." The new first mate saluted, back straight and a light in his eyes. "The Firebrand is yours, Captain Ji."
A roar arose at those words, prompting seabirds to take off from their perches around the docks and fly squawking into the sunset-ruddy sky. Ji did not recall such exultation when the previous captains came on board, even though the last captain and now Commander Chan had been more popular than most.
It's because I'm one of their own. He waved the men quiet, or tried to. Not some capital type Central Command dropped in their laps.
Lieutenant Wu, the Chief of Security, couldn't quite keep the dourness from his face as he saluted with the other section chiefs. Wu was another man who was more polite than pleased, but Ji knew him to be a soldier to the bone: He would go to his death on his captain's order, with that disapproving frown still on his face.
When the cheers died down to the occasional whoop, Ji raised his voice above the sea-murmurs and the call of gullbatrosses. "Is my ship ready to sail, Lieutenant Mo?" Someone whistled at that, but it died down with a squeak when Ji frowned in its direction. Celebration was well and good, but he refused to be whistled at.
"Ready and willing, sir!" Mo stood even straighter if that was possible. "All's clear and awaiting your orders."
Ji swept his gaze over the gathered faces, shadowy in the darkening light. "And the men?"
"Present and accounted for, sir!"
"And are they ready to sail my ship?"
"Aye, Captain!" The shout came in unison, as if from one giant throat.
Ji started walking along the circle of men two and three deep, looking at each face in turn as he passed. "You've known me, some of you a decade, more. And I know you.
"I'm not good with speeches and I'm not going to try. Nothing changes. We go out there every day and do our jobs as Fire Nation sailors. You'll do me proud, just like you always did, and I'll do right by you." He lowered his voice, and they leaned in as though pulled. "We go into this. Together."
They broke out in whoops and hollers again, but quieted down when he raised a hand.
"His Majesty's Navy wants us at Jinsei's Watch in two days, so that is where we will go." Ji nodded at the murmur that went through his men. "Yes, we return to Fire Nation waters after two long years. Set a course for home."
They started shuffling off, too slow for his liking.
"What're you lounging around for, you lards? Move!" His shout rose over the commotion of the men running to their posts. "There's no such thing as a lazy man on my ship!"
"'Cause if you are, I reckon he's kickin' your sorry ass right overboard." Ji snorted as he turned in the direction of those drawling words. "It's about damned time, sir!" the marine Zanzen called over his shoulder as he sped toward the stern.
"Watch your mouth, Corporal." Ji stood back a moment watching his ship come to life, torches lighting, engines humming, the chimney pouring smoke across the stars.
"We're going home." He stood at the prow inside the pulse of his ship, waiting to feel the wind on his face as they started west.
Next: Three games are lost—and won—before they are played.