Gentle hands swept over her hair as she slept. They must be Zuko's hands; she'd recognise his touch anywhere but she was too tired to open her eyes. That meant he was alright, though. That was what was important.

A feather light kiss pressed to her temple and Zuko's low voice whispered something to her, but she couldn't make it out and then he was gone.

Katara awoke in an unfamiliar room.

She sat up quickly and faltered, raising a hand to her temple in response to a wave of dizzying nausea but didn't lie back down. Her hair was loose, and she realised with some confusion that the heavy outer layers of her robes had been removed, leaving her in only the thin cotton under robe. Someone had made her comfortable, but it was nice to know she hasn't been completely stripped whilst unconscious.

The sheets were unfamiliar, white silk and the bed was canopied in gauzy, white fabric. Tentatively, Katara pulled it back to survey her surroundings. The large window looked out on carefully manicured gardens with acer trees and sprays of tiny white flowers framed the sides of the window.

This must be one of the unused guest rooms. With a lurch of her stomach, she realised why she wasn't in her own room.

The fire.

The Fire Lord's rooms were most certainly almost completely destroyed- it made sense that the adjoining rooms could be damaged too. The thought was quite… sad. It was strange to be sad about the loss of a room, but it had been hers. Her room. Where she was going to stay.

Spirits, she had to get a grip.

She closed her eyes and placed her bare feet on the wooden floor. A deep breath in, hold… a slow release.

She had work to do.

Katara stood and grabbed a grey robe that had been left out. She noted with a satisfied smile that whoever had left out her robe had also left her waterskins. She strepped them to her waist and headed out, from the peace and tranquility into the bustling corridors of the palace.

Servants and tradesmen were rushing about, repairs to the fire-damaged parts of the palace clearly underway. She made her way through the hallways with practiced ease until she found herself at Kiyi's door. "Sorry I slept in…" She started, but when she opened the door the room was empty.

She stood still in the doorway, blinking. Disorientated.

"Master Katara," She turned to see Kei at the door, not in full formal armour as she had been last night at the feast, but in her smart palace guard uniform, with just a sword at her side and hair pulled into a topknot. Oddly, the sight of the soldier in more relaxed clothing steadied Katara's heart a little; the palace wasn't under lockdown so Azula must be…

Azula must be... what?

Defeated? Detained? Dead?

She wasn't sure if it mattered anymore. Katara had failed to stop her bending lightning. She'd been too spent, too bone-tired and useless when push came to shove, she'd been nothing but a distraction. If Azula's lightning hadn't backfired (was that what had happened? It looked like it) then Zuko would have been struck again and this time, Katara wouldn't have been able to save him.

"Master Katara?" Kei prompted. "Would you like to be taken to Kiyi?"

"Yes," Katara breathed. "Please. How is she?"

Kei led her down the hallway, away from the family rooms. "She's okay. They're not letting her look in a mirror at the moment but apparently there's no pain. Whatever you did for her last night definitely worked."

"She's awake?"

"Yeah, a little shocked but she's being treated by the Royal Physician. Lady Ursa and Ikem are with her."

Katara nearly asked about Azula. Nearly.

Instead, she followed Kei in silence. She didn't even ask after Zuko; she wasn't sure she wanted to know, in case he was with Azula. How was he feeling? What was he thinking? He'd clearly sought Azula out one-on-one last night, had he hoped to reason with her? Did he still think she could return to society without being a danger to those he loved?

The sting of humiliation was still there. It was petty of her, perhaps, to be so upset that her personal letters had been shared with the Fire Nation courtiers. Worse things had happened last night. Nevertheless, it hurt. She felt hot just thinking about it.

How could she ever face attending court again?

Kei knocked on a door Katara hadn't been through before. "Come in!" Ursa's voice was strong, much stronger than last night. Kei opened the door to what Katara realised must be the Royal Physician's offices. Shelves on the wall were filled with glass bottles and various dried plants in jars. Ursa was stood with a handsome, greying man with glasses and working a pestle and mortar to crush something that smelled fresh and minty. The man was stooped over a large bowl of some sort of creamy mixture, stirring it over a low flame.

Ursa glanced up and smiled. "Katara! It's good to see you up."

The older man peered at Katara over his spectacles with a raised eyebrow. "Ah, so this must be the waterbender who's putting me out of business."

Katara glanced around the room, feeling disorientated. "Uh- sorry."

"Not at all, Master Katara. It frees me up for some of the more lucrative work in the capital. The nobles love to pay a little extra for the services of the Royal Physician," He winked. "And Fire Lord Zuko keeps me on retainer, so you've done me no harm at all."

Ursa handed the mortar back to the physician. "There, that should be done."

He inspected the contents with an approving nod and tipped it into his bowl. "Lovely."

"Thank you for last night," Ursa said, wiping her hands and approaching Katara. "You worked so hard and I'm so sorry that I pushed you for more. I was-..." She trailed off, looking lost.

"Don't be sorry," Katara said, stepping forward out of instinct to wrap the older woman in a hug. "I'm sorry I couldn't do more- I just…"

"You did a wonderful job," The physician piped up. "Kiyi is healing nicely. The damage to the eye…"

"I was going to work on that today," Katara said quickly, releasing Ursa and turning to look at him. He bowed his head and stretched out an arm, inviting her into the plush room behind his work station.

They headed through archway framed by large potted palms, beyond which a bed was visible. Ikem was sat in an armchair beside the canopied bed, looking tired but in good spirits.

"Katara," He greeted, dragging himself upright, beside him, Kiyi poked her head around the drapes, smiling in excitement at the sight of the approaching figures. She squealed Katara's name and Katara fought the urge to flinch at the sight of the bandage wrapped around the tiny girl's head. "You missed Zuko- he left a little while ago."

"What about Iroh?" She asked, recalling how the older man had fallen. "And Aang-?"

"They're fine. Iroh's burn wasn't too bad," The physician said mildly. "And Avatar Aang was unscathed in the fight. Most of Lady Azula's damage was to herself."

"Where are they?" Katara couldn't help asking, but the physician merely shrugged.

"They're not my responsibility, I am tasked with taking care of young Kiyi here."

Katara was too. She wanted to go to Zuko and the others, but Kiyi needed her first. "Hey!" She forced a smile. "Are you ready for another healing session?"

Kiyi's smile faltered and she looked to her father, uncertainty clear on her face. Ikem reached for her hand and smiled encouragingly. "It's okay Kiyi, it's okay."

"She'll make it all better, my love," Ursa came to sit on the bed with Kiyi, dropping a tender kiss to the girl's head. Kiyi turned wide, trusting eyes back to Katara who tried to look reassuring. With a solemn frown, she nodded.

"I'll be gentle," Katara promised, settling beside her on the bed, conscious of the physician and Kei watching from the archway. She pulled the water from her flask as Ursa carefully unwrapped Kiyi's bandages, trying not to wince as the dressing stuck to the wound. Thankfully, her nerves beneath the burns were still numbed and she simply blinked up at her mother.

And Katara got to work on repairing the damage to Kiyi's eye.

.

"How are you doing, man?" Sokka's voice was soft but Zuko didn't look up. He watched the turtleducks idling in the pool with a sort of grim detachment. There were only two now; the others having long since moved on to new homes, new places.

Not here.

Footsteps approached across the grass, Sokka sat down on one side and a bright blue of orange told him Aang had sat down in his other. His hand tore at the blades of grass in front of him without conscious effort.

The boys didn't say anything, for which he was grateful. Maybe there wasn't anything to say, anyway.

They just sat with him at the base of the cherry tree, golden leaves falling around them as a cool autumn breeze shook them loose. Most of his meetings had been cancelled for the day after the events of the previous night. Perhaps one or two council members would think less of him for it but Uncle had assured him that the people would understand. Zuko wasn't so sure.

After all, what sort of Fire Lord could be trusted with a Nation when he couldn't even be trusted to look after his own family?

Kiyi had suffered horribly and it may as well have been by his own hands; he'd wanted to badly for Azula to get better and let his own pride prevent him from seeing that she wasn't ready. He'd wanted to show a united front to his people and in doing so had let a monster loose.

The worst thing was he could almost understand why she'd done it. Their father's proud doctrine of superiority still echoed in the back of his mind even as everything inside Zuko rejected his ideals. He could understand why Azula thought Ikem, Kiyi and Katara had no right to live in the palace, even if he didn't agree.

It didn't sit well with Zuko that he could see Azula's point of view; it felt like the ideals of his father were still within him, withered and small but still there. He hated himself for it.

He knew better, he knew there was nothing inherently superior about the Fire Nation or its royal family; both he and Azula had lost to benders from the other nations, and their father who had seemed so invincible, had perished at the hands of a 12 year old Air Nomad.

But it was disconcertingly easy for Zuko to understand how Azula still held on to those beliefs.

He supposed it didn't matter anymore, not really. Not after what had happened when Azula tried to bend lightning.

"She was too emotional," He said quietly.

Beside him, Aang raised his head. "When she bent lightning?" Zuko nodded grimly and Sokka let out a low whistle. "I've never seen it do that before."

"It's what happens if you don't have proper control," He threw a handful of torn grass into the pond and watched as the two turtleducks snapped at it, quacking loudly to each other. "That's why I can't control lightning." He'd not tried, not after that first attempt training with his Uncle. Let it never be said that Fire Lord Zuko didn't understand his own limitations, he thought with a flash of self-pity.

"Eh, it's probably for the best," Sokka nudged Zuko's shoulder with his own and Zuko finally looked up at his friend's half smile and raised eyebrows. "Lightning's stupid anyway. What good does it do?"

"It's not like fire," Aang agreed, producing a flame in his hand and smiling. "Fire is life, energy. Lightning only hurts people."

"Lightning sucks!" Sokka exclaimed. "Seriously!"

Despite himself, Zuko felt his mouth twitch in response. They were doing a terrible job of cheering him up but he appreciated it anyway. "Thanks guys..." He paused. "Although Uncle can bend lightning."

"He also brews tea all the time and spouts obtuse metaphors, you wanna do that too?"

Zuko blinked, thought about it. "Point taken..." Sokka's mouth quirked up in victory.

Right, well, he supposed there was no point delaying the inevitable. He couldn't hide in this silent sanctuary forever. Zuko nodded to himself and stood, swiping the dry leaves from his robes and watching the turtleducks swim away in alarm. Without having to look, he knew Aang and Sokka had stood as well.

"Ready?" Aang asked, and Sokka clapped a hand to his shoulder.

"No," Zuko replied honestly, but he turned to give each of them a tired smile before leading the way inside.

It didn't take too long, though with each step Zuko's feet felt heavier and his heart pounded a little harder. The palace was busy with repair workers already but he had tunnel vision and could barely recognise the faces of employees he'd known most of his life.

The cluster of guards in front of the double doors bowed at the approach of the teenagers and Zuko had never felt as underqualified for his responsibilities as he did right then. The doors opened and the sickly smell of various burn treatments sent him right back to-

He forced his mind away from it, rejecting the memory even as it made his pulse race and his palms sweat.

"Fire Lord Zuko," One of the military doctors bowed. "It's an honour."

"How is she?"

"No change, my Lord," He led the boys through to the next room, where two other military doctors were applying a clear salve to starburst skin. The sight turned Zuko's stomach and Sokka's hand on his shoulder tightened. "She isn't in any pain, as far as we can tell."

Zuko moved to stand at the foot of the bed, pulling away from Sokka and Aang as he leaned on the wooden foot of the bed. Azula would hate it, he found himself thinking, it's far too plain.

"I can't believe this is what happens if you don't control lightning properly…" Aang said softly. "It's awful."

"It's because Azula has such power inside her; she's a true prodigy," Iroh came through from an adjoining room, holding a large bowl of bandages and moving slowly, still recovering from his own injuries. "But she did not have full control over her own inner fire."

Zuko's grip on the bed tightened. Uncle Iroh had never known Azula when she was little, before their mother left, he only knew the monster she'd become. It didn't seem right that Iroh was here, tending to her when he'd never believed she could be any different to Ozai.

No, he reminded himself, that's your emotions getting the better of you again. Who better to tend to lightning burns than Iroh?

Katara, obviously, but that was complicated too.

One thing at a time.

Breathe.

"So she just had too much power and not enough… control?" Aang asked. Iroh handed the bandages to a doctor and nodded, looking down at his niece sorrowfully.

"Azula has always been an incredibly powerful bender, even when she lost her mind…" Iroh's eyes were on Zuko, he was sure of it. "But whatever happened last night made her too emotional to control it."

As Zuko thought, it was his fault.

Sokka's voice was hard, and it wasn't clear if he felt bad for Azula or relieved. "She'll never be able to bend again, will she?"

The question Zuko hadn't dared ask.

There was a long pause, the doctor who had let them in glanced to Iroh and his colleagues with a frown before shaking his head. "Not with those arms."

Sokka simply nodded, Zuko didn't look to try to get a read on his expression; he had the distinct feeling that everyone was secretly relieved and as much as it sickened him, he couldn't blame them. Not after the devastation his sister had caused

"What if Katara could… Could Katara do anything?" Aang asked, ever the optimist.

"I don't want her to be distracted from helping Kiyi," Zuko said. "And there's no guarantee she could fix this… I've never seen her regrow fingers, have you?"

He looked away from Azula's mangled, unconscious form to Aang, who was watching with wide, solemn eyes as the doctors bandaged Azula's burned hands. The fingers had almost completely burned away and during the night, the doctors had requested permission to amputate. Zuko had granted it.

And Azula would never bend lightning again.

Maybe it was for the best.

He was very, very grateful that no one said it aloud, though he knew everyone must be thinking it.

The doctors finished bandaging Azula and began packing up. "The sounds are clean and we've applied a healing balm," The most senior doctor explained. "Should we send for you when she wakes?"

Zuko eyed the ropes that bound Azula to the bed, across her chest and upper arms, wrapped around her legs. "No," He said eventually. "I'll stay with her."

"Okay," Aang said without hesitation. "I'll stay too."

"And me," Sokka nodded.

Zuko looked between them, stunned. "You don't have to-..."

"We're your friends, Zuko," Aang smiled. "We want to."

Stiffly, not trusting himself to speak, Zuko nodded. The doctors bowed and retreated from the room. Zuko sank into an armchair beside Azula's bed.

Iroh, who had been watching him silently, stepped forwards and stood at Zuko's shoulder. "I am very sorry that you have to go through this, my nephew," He said quietly. His big hand ruffled Zuko's hair affectionately, like he was a child. The gesture was simple and Zuko found himself turning to hug the older man tightly.

"What do I do?" Zuko asked hoarsely. "What do I do now?" What would happen when Azula woke up? What would he have to do?

"You wait," Iroh stroked the back of Zuko's head soothingly. "You wait and the answers will come to you, Fire Lord Zuko."

What if they didn't? Zuko was meant to be ruling a country, but he was still only eighteen years old and he'd been desperately hoping that his family could… that he would have a family around him.

"And we'll help you, Zuko," Aang said, moving to stand on the other side of Azula's bed with Sokka, who nodded with a firm smile. "With whatever you need."

Zuko smiled back at them, feeling the weight around his heart lifting a little. Even if they weren't here forever, he had people who loved him and wanted to help him.

"When she wakes up, would you guys be able to… give us some space?"

Aang nodded but Sokka's eyes flickered to Azula and back, before giving a reluctant "If that's what you want, but we won't go far."

"Azula is dangerous," Iroh warned him and Zuko approached the bed, looking down at the spiderweb of livid burns that criss-crossed Azula's arms and what was visible of her torso. Her hands had been bandaged but her other burns had been left exposed, spread thinly with salves and ointments, to 'breathe'.

"I know she is," Zuko agreed. "But if she wakes up with everyone looking at her like this she'll… she won't react well."

Iroh sighed heavily, but didn't object.

Time passed slowly, achingly so. Boredom crept up on all of them and Zuko had to fight the urge to send for some paperwork.

Iroh sent for tea and began to teach Aang Pai Sho at the low table, moving jars of burn salve to clear space for the board. Sokka sat with Zuko, by Azula's bedside, picking at the dirt under his fingernails absently.

Zuko settled into a silent study of Azula's sleeping form- the way her brow looked like their father's but her nose and chin were near matches to their mother's. When was the last time she'd been so unguarded, so open to scrutiny?

Azula was a prodigy, sharp-witted and strong but she was also just a teenager, a girl who had lost everything to the brother she had always bested.

And now she'd lost the last advantage she had over him; her lightning. She was just a child, still, and lightning required total control over one's emotions. Control Zuko had never possessed, control Azula had lost when fighting him.

Now, it wouldn't matter. She had lost her fingers and her total mastery of her fire had gone with them. She would still be formidable enough in a fight; she would be able to run, jump and kick fire but her arms wee deeply burned and Zuko knew exactly what scar tissue like that felt like.

Unconsciously, he brought a hand to his own lightning mark over his core. Tight, tough scar tissue. He could feel it tug when he twisted his torso during sparring and it was a small, localised spot on his chest. What must it feel like to have your arms completely mangled like hers? What would the scar tissue feel like when she moved?

"She wanted to drive Kiyi and Katara away," Zuko said quietly.

Sokka looked up, eyebrows furrowed. "Oh?"

"That's why she did it, apparently. She… I don't know… felt left out or something."

Sokka let out a low whistle. "That's… wow."

"Yeah."

"That's rough."

Zuko let out a quick, bitter, not-quite-laugh. "I really thought I could help her get better. Maybe I did just want her compliant, like she said," He looked at his sister's sleeping face, smooth and untroubled, like she was a child simply down for a nap. If it wasn't for the open sores crawling up her neck he could almost believe it. "I just wish it could be how it was, when we were little."

Azula's dark lashes quivered and Zuko found himself stood over her, lowering the light in the sconces so that she wouldn't see the extent of her wounds immediately.

A scrape and the sound of footsteps told him Sokka had retreated to stand with Iroh and Aang, out of Azula's line of sight.

Zuko held his breath as Azula's brow creased with effort and dark golden eyes blinked open. She gritted her teeth as she tried to move, the bindings holding her in place. When her eyes fell on him there was a hiss as she gasped through her teeth and she flinched back when he reached for her.

"Father-!" She choked out, breath quickening. "What- how?"

"Azula, no," Zuko tried to make his voice as soothing as possible, holding his hands up in a non-threatening gesture. "Azula, it's me. Zuko. Father's- Father's gone."

She stared at him. With an odd tightening of his chest, he realised that she'd been scared of him. She'd thought he was their father and she'd been afraid. Her eyes were still wide but her breathing slowed, deep gasps that wracked her whole body. A muscle jumped in her neck and her eyes didn't leave Zuko's.

"Zuko," She wheezed, "Zuko."

She bared her teeth at him, a terrible shudder making her body shake. "Yes," Zuko breathed.

"It hurts," She ground out, voice rough. "What… I can't feel my…" She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, shaking her head in denial even as the movement tore open dried scabs on her neck.

"Your lightning backfired," Zuko thought she probably wouldn't appreciate him dancing around the facts. "Your hands…" He swallowed, finding directness difficult when her face was twisted in anguish like that. "Your hands took the worst of it, the doctors had no choice but to amp- amputate your fingers."

There was a terrible moment when he thought she was going to cry, to break the way she had when Katara had defeated her after the Agni Kai and her life had fallen apart but Azula's mouth simply quivered and twisted into a pained smile. "I see."

"I'm sorry," He couldn't help saying. "There wasn't much… left."

A long silence as his words sunk in, then- "The bloodbender wouldn't waste her energy on me."

The sudden surge of white-hot anger was a surprise and Zuko unintentionally made the sconces flare as he resisted the urge to send a fireball into the wall. Azula cracked one eye open to glare at him. "Don't you dare," He seethed, gripping the bedsheets in clenched fists. "Katara exhausted herself trying to repair what you did to Kiyi, our sister."

Azula had both eyes open now, but she wasn't looking at him. She glared resolutely at the ceiling, not moving.

"How could you?" Zuko's voice broke. "All I wanted was for us to be like we were before and you…"

"Where's Mother?"

"Where do you think?" He growled. "She's with Kiyi."

Azula's eyes narrowed. "Of course she is. Her fresh start."

The bitterness in her voice was raw and unexpected. He'd never heard her voice like that before. It didn't soothe his anger, exactly, but it added a layer of wrenching pity. "You don't understand anything," He stood tall, glaring down at her. "You think you're so clever but you've never had a clue."

Azula finally looked at him again, mouth twisted in a sneer. "Is this where you tell me nothing has to change? That I can be saved by love?"

"I don't know what can help you," He spat. "You did a horrible thing, you've done so many terrible, terrible things… but yes, I still love you. So does Mother."

She scoffed, but her eyes didn't move from his face.

"She does," Zuko shook his head. "You're her daughter. Having Kiyi around doesn't mean she loves you less. She's not like Father."

Their Father, who only ever had enough love for one, perfect child.

And who, even then, probably never felt it.

"So sentimental," Azula deadpanned, but her eyes were hungry, pleading. "You really believe that drivel?"

Zuko thought over his next words carefully. "Yes, Azula, I do. It's the truth. Normal people don't have a finite amount of love to give. I don't love you less because Mother and Kiyi are here. I don't love you less now that I have my friends, or now that I have Katara at my side. That's not how it works."

"You sound like Uncle."

"Thank you," Zuko said. "I would be honoured to be half the man Uncle is."

Azula glared at him, but said nothing.

"Do you need more burn salve? Or Uncle can brew a tea for pain relief?" Zuko offered, but she simply watched him with hard eyes. "Suit yourself."

He swept past the foot of the bed, heading for the door. He could send some guards in to make sure Azula didn't hurt herself, but having this sort of conversation was draining and he found he didn't have the stomach for it so soon. Azula could choose to understand them or she could continue to wallow in her own self pity; he'd done all he could for her.

Iroh, Aang and Sokka were stood near the door. Iroh's face was quietly proud while the boys simply looked uncomfortable.

"I'll stay with her, if you like," Aang offered quietly. "Rather than having more guards around."

Zuko blinked, a little taken aback at the offer. He glanced back to where the foot of Azula's bed was visible and nodded with a small smile. "Thanks."

Aang gave him a sunny smile and ushered the three out, closing the door behind them with a firm click.

Zuko and Sokka exchanged a puzzled look. "Honestly? Rather him than me," Sokka shrugged. "Where do you want to go?"

"Actually," Iroh said softly. "I would rather like to have a moment alone with my nephew, if you don't mind?" Zuko glanced at him but the old man simply smiled politely back at him.

"I wanted to see Katara," Zuko said, knowing he sounded like a teenage brat but unable to help it; she'd still been asleep when he'd checked in on her that morning and he had so much he wanted to say after the events of the previous night.

"Master Katara will either be asleep or healing Kiyi," Iroh's voice was gently chiding, like Zuko was a child rather than the Fire Lord. Sokka frowned at the two of them, but gave Zuko a jerky salute and headed off.

Iroh smiled wanly and led Zuko away, towards a less used part of the palace. "What did you want to talk about?" Zuko asked, when the silence grew too heavy. Iroh sighed and glanced back at him.

"I understand that you know my part in how your mother came to be married to your father."

Zuko's step faltered. "Yes."

Iroh beckoned him to continue, and they made their way to an older part of the palace. "When I was a younger man, I worked hard for our father's approval. I led great crusades on behalf of the Fire Nation into the Earth Kingdom, I claimed to have slaughtered the last dragons, all to earn my father's praise."

He had to look away, reminded too much of his own desperate attempts to win Ozai's approval. "Right. But you didn't really- you didn't kill the dragons."

"No," Iroh sighed. "But I meant to. I did a lot of things to please him that I deeply regret."

They came to a stop and with a start, Zuko realised where they were.

The door was open, and the room didn't look as dark as it had before; the shutters hung broken and loose from the small window frame, the dust had mostly cleared but it was as grim and sparsely furnished as he remembered. Iroh hesitated before stepping inside, but Zuko remained at the doorway. "I should have had this room cleared," He said bitterly. "Or locked back up."

"As individuals and as a Nation, we must not hide our past mistakes," Iroh said plainly, looking around the room with a sorrowful frown. "We must confront our history head-on, only then can we truly learn and improve."

Zuko scowled. He'd much rather forget his own past mistakes.

"I thought it wouldn't be too bad for her here, and I was a selfish young man in love."

"What?" Zuko stared at his uncle, mouth agape.

Iroh chuckled. "Don't be so surprised. I met your Aunt at a court event and fell in love as soon as I saw her," He moved to the window and closed his eyes, lifting his chin to the cool breeze. "Asuka. She was the one thing I thought it would be alright to defy my father for. She wasn't from an influential family, you see, and a family of non-benders, too."

Zuko had never heard Iroh speak of his wife before; all he knew was that Lu Ten's mother had died in childbirth, before Zuko was born. There had never been any portraits of her in the palace either.

"My father had already chosen a bride, and he refused to allow me to marry her," Iroh continued, distracted, lost in his own memories. "So I begged, and pleaded, and bargained…" His face hardened. "Ozai was… troublesome for our father; too proud and ambitious. I had the idea to find Avatar Roku's descendents, to find him a bride that would meet his requirements. I found your mother while she was still too young to marry, but the knowledge was enough to bargain for what I wanted."

"And it worked. You married for love," Zuko surmised. He had always thought of his uncle as selfless, infallible, even though he knew it had once been different. Sometimes, ignorance is bliss after all.

"Yes, and she died within five years. You might ask- what was it all for?" Iroh turned to face Zuko once more. "But those years were worth it. I loved Asuka as hard as I could and I would not trade that for anything."

"Why are you telling me this, Uncle?"

"Who knows?" Iroh approached Zuko and clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder. "Old men like me enjoy telling stories, and perhaps I feel like love can be my redemption, no matter what I have done in my past… In this era of love and peace, maybe that can be all of our redemption."