AN: Since some uni stuff is speeding up, I may not be able to keep up the rapid posting schedule. With that said, once a week minimum is the goal. Though, hopefully more than that. As always, thank you for the support/feedback/follows and all that jazz. It makes me feel all warm and accomplished to see people enjoy the story so far!

(XIV)

"This has gone on for long enough!" Azula bristled, stomping up to her feet with eyes—blazing like flaming stars—a terrifying presence demanding submission.

Jeong Jeong took another sip of his tasty deer-fox stew and let out a loud satisfied hum as he returned the bowl to his tree stump.

"If you wish."

"…Just like that?" Azula raised a brow, squinting through folded arms.

Jeong Jeong blinked as if she'd misheard him. "What else could there be? You say you are ready, then you are ready."

Azula, perhaps a little childishly, shrugged her shoulders without the confidence she normally wielded. Jeong Jeong had managed to turn her own bravery against her without… doing anything.

That was disconcerting, to say the least.

"Come. I will test your mastery of control down by the stream, where the river carves the forest's edge."

Azula offered no reply. She could walk now, better than she could formerly, she'd hesitantly allowed Jeong Jeong to clean her wounds and change her bandages. Though it irked her to do so, she told herself it was no different to having a servant do it.

It helped her pride if nothing else.

They walked through nature's gentle embrace with measured steps. Bird song littered the trees in light hymns whilst the river's flow soothed a tumultuous mind. The forest was horrid, that much was true, but this little piece of nature was… surprisingly beautiful, she admitted. Peaceful as well.

"Here." Jeong Jeong paused in front of the sparkling river. Before him, two logs of equal size lay lazily within the perfect green grass. "The challenge is simple. I will immolate my log and you will immolate yours. We will control the flame until one of us loses control."

Azula scoffed and turned her face away, "This is a stupid test."

"Why is that?" Jeong Jeong questioned.

"Do I look like a child?"

Azula huffed with annoyance as she considered his answer might be 'Yes'.

"Well, I'm not a child and this test is for a child!"

Jeong Jeong frowned, then took a kneeling position before his trial. Perched idly within the grass he measured careful words, "Azula, this test is about control. Not mastery. I see no reason you should refuse unless you fear you may lose."

"Lose?!" Azula let out a high-pitched single decibel laugh. Oddly, it wasn't even forced, her amusement was real. "Fine. You want to humiliate yourself? I'll win your stupid test!"

She scoffed as she collapsed upon the ground alongside Jeong Jeong, her eyes glared furiously into the lifeless wood before her.

"Begin!"

Two flames, flickering and energetic, cackled with roaring might as both logs were set alight. One a rolling flicker of gentle red dancing in the sun. The other an angry blue, hollow and mysterious, roaring with desire and power.

Under the radiant heat neither log burned an inch. The bark remained as perfect as ever. The crackling of burning was denied. The stench of ruinous wood bowing to the flames was absent. Not a speck of ash to be seen

Both logs untouched.

The challenge was on.

How many piles of Agni-damned papers did the useless pencil-pushing beans in the Fire Lord's prissy little Office decide to delegate to the Prison out of a sheer unwillingness to use their brain for anything that required an ounce of thought!

10 Prisoners to be diverted to the Boiling Rock

3 Prisoners to be summarily executed come dawn.

8 Prisoners to be moved to the laxer security Jail in Caldera's core.

Why, Henbai questioned, did he ever accept this job at all?!

Maybe breaking against Ba Sing Se's outer shell all those years ago would've been a mercy. Even in disgrace, the Dragon of the West managed to mock him still.

"Warden, Sir?" heavy knuckles rapped upon the iron door, "Visitor from the Palace."

Henbai growled into his papers and kicked his chair away, "Tell him to bugger off back to the Palace! I'm busy and have no time for bureaucrats!" The man's fists tightened, tense, he steadied his nerves with calming breaths.

"Um, it's the Crown-Prince, Sir." The voice, with some hesitance, informed.

"Then tell him to bugger off because I don't want to see his Royal Annoyance!"

For a moment, the silence assured Henbai that the man got the message through his thick skull to deliver the message.

Until the door opened to reveal the Crown-Prince was already present.

Just his agni-damned luck…

"Ah, Prince Zuko…" Henbai swallowed, but did not lose his cool glare. Surprisingly, the Prince looked amused by the outburst he'd no doubt overheard.

"If you want to see the Prisoner, ask a guard, Prince Zuko, I am busy." Henbai added curtly, returning to his colossal torment.

The Prince almost smiled, "Actually… I came to see you, Warden."

Then he shrugged as Henbai's glare grew more intense.

Henbai stopped overtly glaring, bu narrowed his eyes on Zuko with new hostility, "If you mean to demote me or fire me then Agni's boiling blood do get on with it!" He hissed, teeth grinding.

Zuko blinked and raised a brow, "I – why would you think that?"

The Warden's hard face softened into something nearing apologetic, "Apologies, Prince Zuko." He sighed, then gestured to the paperwork pile, "The Palace has been breathing down my neck. More work than the prison has rats."

Zuko frowned and stepped past the omission, undoubtedly, he wasn't lying. This was one of the most miserable prisons in the Fire Nation by design. The Boiling Rock was more humane. The Boiling Rock was surprisingly humane, in-fact.

"Actually," Zuko stared into the rickety half-rotted desk separating the two, "I want to offer you a new job."

That got Henbai's attention. The man raised a brow and leaned back, silently bidding Zuko to explain (or get out).

"My Father has commanded me to tour the annexed territories in the Earth Kingdom. I need people I can trust; I need a Household Guard who'll listen to me."

"- And not the Fire Lord, is that it?" Henbai shook his head with a frown.

"Whatever your salary is here, I'll double it."

At that, Henbai choked on his own spittle, then regarded Zuko with wild confusion, his eyes flicking about the Prince's features. "I'm not worth that." He finally resolved, folding his arms with growing suspicion.

"I'm the Crown-Prince and future Fire Lord." Zuko managed to smile diplomatically, "I decide the worth of my subjects, right? Those I trust are worth whatever I decide." Zuko leaned forward. A heavy bag laden with coin rocked the table with a thud. "A wise man once told me trust is earned."

Henbai finally returned the gesture, smirking slightly as he nodded, "And this is you earning trust?" A part of the old Warden just wanted to sneer and brand the Prince's attempts as bribery. But he knew the young lad was honest, and the job offer was damn enticing compared to the current monotony of his life.

"Very well, Prince, say I accept your little job transfer, what is it you want from my service?"

Zuko frowned. Henbai noticed and was almost endeared to realize the Prince had no idea what he was really asking for.

"I – I only want your loyalty, I just need someone who knows how to command, but who'll help me. I don't want you to be some servant. I want your honest advice and…" Zuko sighed, "I suppose I want your protection."

"I see." The Warden's harsh scar-fuelled gaze softened into something gracious. "You understand a Household Guard comprises a Company of Soldiers, Prince Zuko?"

Zuko nodded glumly.

"I suppose you hadn't thought about that part, hm?"

Again, Zuko nodded, his throat visibly tightened under Henbai's light grilling.

"Consider it my first act as the Commander of your Personal Guard to handle that, then."

Zuko's eyes widened and he jolted back as if surprised, blinking rapidly, "You're accepting my offer?"

Henbai side-stepped the Prince's unprincely presentation. He understood it, Zuko was still a boy, one thrust into a role he had little preparation for.

Besides, they'd spoke for less than a handful of minutes and he found the Prince to earn respect quicker than he could've guessed. It was a rare thing of myth, to find someone of such high station to seek out honesty and wisdom in those of humble starts.

"Aye, I'm accepting, Prince." Henbai smirked, raising from his creaking chair and stretching. An audible yawn followed. "I served with some good men back in the Earth Kingdom." He let out a light chuckle, lost in memories, where men drank themselves silly around a campfire and woke up the next day wearing nothing but Earth Kingdom noble clothes. "A bunch of sore old grumblers like myself. But they're loyal in ways only war can forge. As long as you can flex that Royal treasury to give their families comfort… They'll return to service for you."

Zuko smiled, then bowed his head respectfully, "Thank you… Commander Henbai."

"Agh," The Warden, now ex-Warden, grimaced. "I suffered Warden because I had to. You make the rules now. No titles."

"No titles." Zuko affirmed, then held his hand out, "Zuko."

Henbai blinked and stared at the hand. 'No titles' was his personal request; he hardly expected the Crown-Prince to relinquish anything of the sort. But the old veteran was pleasantly surprised and smiled all the same.

He gripped Zuko's hand in a tight trap, then nodded respectfully, "Henbai."

"NO!" Azula growled into the night's stifling cage.

Her log, once pristine, remained half scorched and twisted in shameful defeat.

Jeong Jeong's own fire danced innocently beneath his illusionary pyre.

"This was a stupid test!" Azula growled and thrust a pillar of blue that devoured Jeong Jeong's log. His fire twisted and morphed into a shine of icy blue. Cowed to her will.

But not controlled, He observed.

"You got lucky!" Azula accused, pouting through thin lips. "We should go again!"

"Azula." Jeong Jeong addressed her and he felt her burning glare before he witnessed it. "You failed control twice. Neither of which were related to that silly piece of wood."

She blinked at him. A confused glint in otherwise devilish eyes reflected the touch of waning blue flames.

"You challenged me before you were fully healed. You lacked self-control, for I told you we would have competition only when you were ready. You said you were ready; you were not."

Azula's body shook beneath a restrained inferno. Jeong Jeong spied how her shoulders rotated with the need to ensnare him in what would likely be a rather agonizing death.

He pressed on anyway, "Then you threw fire at me. You lost control of your emotions. How can one control their bending if they let anger rule them in even the smallest moments?"

Azula turned and clenched her eyes and fists with the tightness of a grinding vice. "You—!" A little defeatedly, she let the blue fire dissipate into the wind.

"Fine!" She marched forth and kicked the ashy globs of their once-logs-now-ash into the coursing river a few feet away. "You proved your point." Azula let out a monumental sigh and collapsed back upon the ground with heavy breaths.

Jeong Jeong didn't hide his surprise—not that she could see it from the ground—but recovered, nonetheless. He hadn't expected her to admit defeat. Or even acknowledge the lesson.

"Don't look so surprised, old man." She chastised, and Jeong Jeong blinked. Robbed of sight, perhaps, but she sensed his surprise well enough.

Azula sighed, her voice softer, more relaxed, as she exhaled through her nose gently. "I didn't master firebending by being difficult with my lessons."

"No. I suppose you did not." Jeong Jeong nodded, "I apologize for casting such judgement."

The Old Instructor frowned as she seemed to squirm under the apology as if a child slinking away from a parent's fury. It was a sad sight to see someone uncomfortable with such a common kindness.

"We'll move on tomorrow." He let his fingers touch the blackened grass beneath them. Sagely eyes gazed up at the glittering sky so resplendent under a thousand stars.

Azula pursed her lips. She wanted to argue this forest seemed safer than chancing the road or any sort of civilization.

But she also wanted a proper bath. She really wanted a proper bath.

Oh well, bounty hunters seemed like a fair trade-off for some self-care.

It took a few days. Nothing major. But transportation and escort had to be arranged properly and Ozai wasn't going to be the one to do it. After some wrangling, Zuko, finally, managed to secure an honest meeting with Admiral Be Fan. As Crown-Prince, he needed to be the picture of majesty. But whilst the veteran goliath was willing to supply Dragon's Breath to Azula's valiant victory in Ba Sing Se at a simple letter of request, he'd shunned Zuko for days. It took Ren agni-cursed Jiang's own letter to even entertain the meeting.

Zuko resented Ren all the more. This General was flexing connections and influence just to show Zuko he had power the Crown-Prince didn't! He played a dangerous game.

"Admiral Be Fan," Zuko greeted with a vicious glare. Henbai stood mutedly behind, a stoic guard, one who's own scarred battle-woven face duelled with Be Fan's similarly war-torn visage. Whilst Henbai was no doubt intimidating, Be Fan might just be the most robust man in the Fire Nation. He sat hunched over an impossibly small desk. The wood groaned beneath his frame. Tree-trunk sized forearms that threatened to shred his scarlet tunic sleeves dared Zuko to posture.

"I'm a busy man, Prince." Be Fan replied with disinterest, "I have been charged to organize Caldera's defences in the case of a rebel invasion on the eclipse. You know this."

"Yes! Yes, I do." Zuko folded his arms. "And you know it is my duty to fix our Nation's problems in Omashu."

"That doesn't concern me." Be Fan returned to his notes. Not even sparing a lingering glance to the Crown-Prince. Zuko's knuckles paled at his side as he felt anger bubbling forth.

"It does concern you if I say it concerns you!" Zuko hissed though clenched teeth. The Admiral quirked an eyebrow up at Zuko that only served to make him more irate. "I'm the Crown-Prince, you have no right to just- ignore me!"

The Admiral let out an exasperated sigh. "Look, Crown-Prince," The title sounded derogatory spat by the Admiral, "If the Gates of Azulon fail. Then it's up to the Fire Navy to deal with a potential invasion by sea. The needs of the City's survival outweigh your pompous pride." His eyes narrowed in judgement, "Dragon's Breath is under my command and by my word... It. Stays."

"With respect, Sir..." Henbai stepped to Zuko's rescue, the Prince's face looked fractured in defeat and on the cusp of violent rage. "The Crown Prince is not making a request. It was proper etiquette to send word of his coming. He showed you more respect than he needed giving you the time to consider this meeting. But the decision was never yours."

Be Fan scowled and slammed his quill down. "Is that so?"

"Yes." Henbai met his furious gaze with steely resolve, "...Sir. It is. The Crown-Prince formally outranks your authority. If you will not follow orders, then he will have no choice but to bring this to the Burning Throne."

"You'd waste the Fire Lord's time with this?" Be Fan accused, though his voice was sterner, there was a hint of resignation.

"All matters of disobedience in the High Command must go to the Burning Throne." Henbai raised his chin as Be Fan seethed in silence. "Who do you think he will blame? His son and future heir, who saved His Highness' life just a week past... or you."

Be Fan's lips twitched as he understandably bit back a fury of retorts. His barrel-sized chest rose and lowered beneath steady, regulated breaths meant to calm and soothe. "Then I will graciously loan the Agni-damned ship!" Be Fan jabbed a finger at Zuko, "But you will pay for its maintenance and any damages!"

Zuko smirked, then bowed his head once, "Admiral."

He was all too happy to take his leave with the feeling of victory. Though, now free of Be Fan's stifling study, he regarded Henbai with a look of grateful surprise. "Why did you do that?" Zuko asked, brow raised in scrutiny. The man gained nothing making a potential enemy of Be Fan.

"I'm teaching you how to be a proper Prince!" Henbai laughed at his own answer, "That's not a joke, either. That's how your sister dealt with problems. A strong hand. It worked. It worked for me as Warden, too."

Zuko let out a light sigh as they walked. Henbai was proving to be quite the character, and Zuko was surprised to admit just how much he trusted him based on so little evidence. He just... felt honest. That was enough for Zuko. It was more than his uncle or Azula has ever been.

"You can tell I'm not good at that." Zuko admitted, rather than noted.

Henbai gave him a neutral shrug. As if it wasn't unbecoming of the Crown-Prince. "I figured that out when you didn't punish me for speaking out of turn when you came to see the caged Dragon."

Zuko frowned at that. He'd promised no harm back then. "I gave you my word you could speak freely." He protested, apparently to the older man's amusement.

"You think that really means anything?" Henbai's scrutinizing eyes disarmed Zuko. As if he was speaking a universal wisdom the former exile never picked up on. "Honour doesn't exist, Prince. Not really. It's a lovely idea and all, but nothing makes anyone act with honour and you'll find it's the dishonourable bastards who are the ones sitting on top of the rest of us."

"What about him?" Zuko turned his cheek back to the Barracks. Henbai just shrugged.

"Can't say I ever met the Admiral before. Can't speak for his honour. He didn't like you, though."

He didn't reply to that. What would he say? Be Fan was just an imitation of how almost everyone thought of Zuko. The undeserving Prince. He needed to earn their respect, he'd made some progress with Henbai but the man hadn't so much delivered his respect as much as been hired and bribed by Zuko. The treasury wouldn't support the same tactics for every General and Admiral. It wouldn't even work on them all, besides, his father would likely punish him severely if he tried to use the Imperial treasury for personal politics.

With a solemn sigh, he let the rest of their journey to the docks, and their newly acquired ship, happen in silence. A few weeks ago he never would've guessed politics could be so exhausting...

He wondered how Azula did it.

Truly, Azula had little fondness for her idiot brother; but she wondered how he did it. Three years in exile. Weeks on the road fleeing her to Ba Sing Se's greener pastures.

She was on her first days of travel and she hated every waking moment. It was so much easier with a komodo rhino, or an ostrich horse, or an airship or even just Ty Lee around to do her hair and collect berries. Plus, back then, she was at least clean and not in a constant state of pain. Certainly, burns, bruises cuts and illness did not contribute to the joys of hiking.

"My feet are tired. We should rest."

Jeong Jeong sighed, "You're supposed to be the most driven firebender alive." The man chided with a light glare, "Where did all that drive go?"

Azula paid no heed to his silly false prattling and attempts at goading her into greater exertion. Contextual differences between circumstances meant everything. "Yes, yes, and I was in pursuit of higher goals back then: Pursuing the Avatar, conquering Ba Sing Se, ruling a Nation." She stopped beside a rock and plopped herself on it. Jeong Jeong could leave, or the idiot could rest. His choice. "Obviously, when my goals are 'walk to a peasant backwater with utterly no purpose' I hardly see the need for urgency."

The older man settled onto his knees in a familiar meditative pose. "Survival isn't a good enough reason, hm?"

Azula narrowed her eyes, a blaze of gold roaring into a thin temper. He was constantly pushing her patience. "Every second we're alive is survival. That purpose is constant. Walking to a town is not survival. Breathing is survival."

"Even so," Jeong Jeong started, "This is the fifth time you've insisted we stop."

"And it's the fifth time you've let me dictate when we stop: see the problem?"

The Firebending Master's eyes widened as he regarded her coolly, doubtful thoughts crawled through his mind as he considered her words carefully. "You want me to challenge you? To fight you on every decision?"

"No..." Azula shrugged, as if she was suddenly uncertain of what her own point was, "Though, I suppose... I expected it."

Everyone else has, Azula hid her frown, why won't you?

"In that case, let me assure you I have no intention of doing so. If you want to make our journey more difficult then you have that right."

"Why do I have that right?!" Azula snapped up. Jeong Jeong didn't flinch as the cerulean flame smashed the ground beside him. He met her golden glare with calm eyes steady as a still pond. "What game are you playing?"

Jeong Jeong raised his chin and sucked in a refreshing breath of nature's air. "No game."

"Everyone has a game. You want me to come with you? Tell me what it is or I'll pull it out of you!"

"There is no game!" Jeong Jeong's own voice rose in response, his yell seemed to catch her off-guard though did little to diminish her fury. He interceded before she could, "What motives does your mind conjure, hm? What grand scheme could The Deserter entrap the Sapphire Princess in? Most of the world is ruled by the Fire Nation. They want us both dead. The Earth Kingdom, then? Should I give you to them, what then? They die in weeks, months if they're lucky, when Ozai's grasping claws wrap further around the world."

Jeong Jeong released the cradling breath he took moments ago. He allowed the wind's cooling touch to soothe his skin and sweep his grey hair about his face. He closed his eyes, then opened them studiously. "I told you I wanted to help you. I told you the truth. I will keep telling you the truth until you believe me; even if you never believe me."

She still said nothing. Still as a statue frozen in the meadow.

"If you truly believe I am playing a game that is adverse to your wellbeing, then nothing stops you from leaving. You want to leave? That is your right. You are not my prisoner."

Azula remained fixed to the grass for several minutes, her boots digging into the dirt as if she was becoming a tree herself, growing roots of idleness. Her face was a flat image of absent emotion: A mask to hide the inferno behind tight eyes.

"Let's keep moving." She murmured, softly, but with authority befitting her character, "Don't drag your feet, old man." She threw in for good measure.

Jeong Jeong let her rapid march pass him before he let the smirk streak across his wrinkled cheeks.

"Of course not." He replied.

She was far from trust; from fondness; or even tolerance. But the foundations of something amicable were placed. She chose to stay, rather than leave, even under the delusion he meant her ill. That was progress. Perhaps she was not the demon Iroh insisted, to Jeong Jeong, she was just a misguided child, forged by terrible circumstance.

He let out a low breath as he rose to follow.

His teachings spread so much misery, once, through those he inspired with the flame... Wielding destruction. Spreading chaos. Zhao and so many others. Could he have stayed their hands? Could he have made them better if he did not teach them firebending as an art of destruction, but one of control?

He supposed he would soon find out... with a student far worse than Zhao could ever be.