Chapter 5 - International Affairs

My first semester at the Royal Academy turned out to be the most uneventful. It was challenging, certainly, in many ways more challenging than the navy had been. Most of my classmates came from Fire Nation nobility, or at least families with wealth. Many of them had had intensive firebending training from early childhood, and as always in terms of raw potential I could do nothing to distinguish myself. My inner fire was a calm, comforting glow, like a campfire on a cold night, not the raging inferno some of the others seemed to possess, by comparison.

But in other ways, I thrived. Vast archives of Fire Nation history and philosophy were now open to me for study. Daily prayer and meditation were not only made available, but expected of all students, and we were even brought to the capital's great temple of Agni for the rites of the equinox. The complex rituals that the fire sages performed required great precision of bending, and on that score my teachers always gave me high marks.

It was harder for me to make friends among the sons and daughters of the elite than it had been in Master Genshi's provincial school. The sort of practical joking by which Master Genshi's students had bonded was strictly discouraged here. But I was far from lonely. Aza, the son of a wealthy commoner from one of the middle islands, came from a rustic enough background to feel out of his depth in the capital. Iyego, the youngest son of the minister of agriculture, was also something of a misfit with a rather dour attitude. The two of them wound up latching on to me for my comparative social aptitude.

Princess Izumi was also a part-time student at the academy's lower school, and while students of all ages naturally sought to curry favor with her, my motives for ingratiating myself to her circle were simply to spend more time with my sister, even if we had to pretend I was just another one of her friends. Why the Fire Lord's heir was willing to give me the time of day certainly mystified more than a few of my classmates, but the end result was that I was accepted among them - which of course benefited Aza and Iyego as well.

I also wrote frequent letters. To my mother, I sent careful inquires about how she was holding up and reminders about my advice, to which she wrote cheerfully evasive replies. To Kya and Tenzin, I wrote about life in the Fire Nation capital, so different from the diversity of Republic City, though by those days diplomacy and commerce between the nations was thriving enough that it was not unheard of to see people wearing green or blue even in the more exclusive neighborhoods of the Royal Caldera. To Aang, I mostly wrote about my studies, and we managed to develop a steady correspondence on the finer points of firebending and Fire Nation spirituality, and not much else.

During this time, exciting news came from the Sun Warriors that set the whole capital talking - Ran and Shaw had produced an egg. A handful of other hidden dragons had been discovered since the end of the war, and the Sun Warriors were responsible for overseeing their breeding, but this was the first offspring of the two great dragons in over a century. This was taken as a favorable portent, and the chief of the Sun Warriors hinted that, when hatched, the young dragon would in all likelihood be given to Fire Lord Zuko in recognition of everythig he had done to restore peace to the world.

At the end of the term, the Fire Lord himself came to inspect our progress. He gave most of his attention to the more senior students, those soon to be anointed as junior fire sages or made aides to government ministers, or other such important positions in society. But as my class gave our demonstration of one of the Sun Warrior forms we had learned, I could feel his eyes lingering on me, just as they did on Izumi when the students of the lower school had their turn. I was sure I couldn't have been the only one to notice, and I began to worry that if we weren't careful, people would begin to talk about something other than dragons.

I hadn't met with Zuko in person during that term - an academy student on scholarship had no excuse for paying social calls on the Fire Lord - but we had also exchanged a few letters. I hadn't told him what my mother had said, though, about letting him claim me as his son. I still didn't think it was what I wanted, and didn't see the point in raising the subject again at that time.

We had two weeks of vacation in between terms, enough time for me to make a short visit home. As it happened, the next United Republic summit was to take place at the same time. Zuko had finally prevailed on his ministers to let him take Izumi with him, citing the need for his heir to observe the workings of international affairs. I would be traveling to Republic City separately from them, so I had no chance to confront him about it, but I suspected he was in part hiding behind his daughter. For this summit would be the first time Zuko and Aang would see each other since Aang had learned the truth.


I had expected this visit home would be difficult, that things would still be strained between Aang and my mother and that the summit would complicate things further. What I had not expected was that my mother would not be there at all.

"She left only two days ago, there was no time to get a letter to you," Aang explained apologetically as we walked to the house from the ferry dock. Kya and Tenzin were each holding on to one of my hands, and Aang was a few paces ahead of us, so I couldn't see his face. "Your grandfather has taken ill, and they're afraid he won't recover. Sokka couldn't get away, with the summit coming up, unfortunately, but your mother…"

He didn't need to finish that thought. My mother had to be there for her father, of course. But perhaps she had also wanted to get away, to run now that she could no longer hide.

The other thing I was surprised to discover was that Aang had moved back into the house. Nobody had mentioned this in their letters, but I took it as a good sign of progress, until Kya quietly told me that up until my mother had left for the south pole, Aang had actually been sleeping in my old bedroom. Still, I thought, that was better than him living on the other side of the island, right?

It was an odd reversal of circumstances, Aang being home with all three of us while my mother was gone. I think my jaw nearly hit the floor the first morning when I came into the kitchen to find Aang and Kya already there, making breakfast. "You know how to cook?" I asked, dumbfounded.

"Of course I do," Aang replied cheerfully from his position by the stove. Kya, who was slicing a honeydew melon at the kitchen counter, gave a rather skeptical scoff at this. "Hey, watch it, young lady," Aang scolded affectionately, pointing at her with the spatula in his hand. "Or I'll burn your eggs."

Kya rolled her eyes. "Yeah, okay, Dad," she replied, clearly unimpressed by this threat. "Bumi, can you set the table?"

I did as she asked, and Tenzin showed up soon after to help me. The eggs were not burned, and it was a decent family breakfast, all things considered. Kya and Tenzin and I had enough to talk about to keep the conversation light, and Aang only needed to chime in occasionally. Since Aang and Kya had prepared the meal, Tenzin and I did the washing up after. Aang had some work to do overseeing construction on the next phase of the air temple, so my siblings and I spent the rest of the morning practicing our bending, out back behind the house where no one would see us - which is to say, where no one would see me. Kya thought it was great fun for us to try out each other's forms with our different elements, and while Tenzin played along, he still insisted that only the classical forms Aang had taught him were proper airbending.

Later, Aang asked me to join him and the acolytes for midday prayers, now held in the first level of the temple. Though it had been years since I had participated in this Air Nomad rite, the mantras were an old, familiar comfort. It was very different from how we prayed in the Fire Nation, and I found myself missing the incense, but it was still the first way that I had learned to pray.

Afterwards, when the acolytes had departed back to their duties, Aang set out on a walk along the cliffs, beckoning for me to accompany him. We walked along the southern side of the island, where it was a sheer drop to the ocean below, a strong sea breeze whipping at our clothes and making a mess of my loose hair. The Academy dress code mandated neat topknots, which was one thing I was glad to be spared from on break.

After walking in silence a ways, Aang came to a halt. Out here, there was little chance of anyone coming upon us by surprise. "You know the United Republic summit begins tomorrow," Aang began, raising his voice slightly against the wind.

"I know," I replied. He would have to spend most of the next few days in the city. With my mother gone, it was a good thing I was here to stay with Kya and Tenzin, who were not quite old enough to be left unsupervised for so long. There were the acolytes, of course, but it would be better for them to have an adult in the house with them.

"There's an opening reception this evening," Aang went on. He looked out at the sea, away to the south, where somewhere over the horizon the islands of the Fire Nation lay - or maybe he was looking farther than that, all the way to the south pole. "I'd like you to come with me, if that's not too much to ask."

"Me?" I said, blinking in surprise. "What would you need me there for?"

Aang crossed his arms over his chest. "To stop me from punching the Fire Lord in the face," he replied with grim humor.

"Oh," I said. So Zuko would not be the only one trying to hide behind his kid. "Well, I guess if you think having me there will help…" I would have thought my presence would only make things worse, an unpleasant reminder. But Aang would know better, I supposed.

"It will," Aang said. "As much as anything will help."

It was not the most optimistic assessment. But, in the interest of averting a potential diplomatic incident, I agreed.


The first problem with Aang's plan was that I had nothing to wear.

Showing up in my Fire Nation clothes was out. While it was common knowledge that the Avatar's oldest child had gone abroad to study, for an event like this everyone would be expected to wear the colors of their proper nation. At any rate, everything I had packed was too casual for a reception at the city hall.

I could have borrowed a set of Air Acolyte robes, but that didn't seem right, either. I wasn't an Air Acolyte, and never had been, really, for reasons that went beyond the thorny question of my paternity. My mother and Kya weren't Air Acolytes, either - the three of us had never followed the customs of the Air Nomads, as evidenced by the fact that we ate meat and didn't shave our heads. I could hardly show up to a diplomatic event dressed as if to represent them.

In the end, Aang decided we would stop by Sokka's house in the city before the reception, and I would have to borrow Water Tribe clothes from my uncle. I hadn't set foot in Water Tribe territory since a visit to the south pole when Kya was a baby, but at least that part of my lineage was uncontroversial. And since Sokka, the Southern Water Tribe's representative on the Council of Nations, would also be attending the event, the three of us could then head over to city hall together.

Sokka lived in one of the posh, newer neighborhoods on the outskirts of the city, where the houses were surrounded by neatly manicured lawns and gardens. Since it was a diplomatic residence, his house was easily identifiable by the Water Tribe banners hanging out front. As we approached the front door, I asked Aang quietly, "Has Mom spoken to him?"

"No," Aang replied. "I don't think she's spoken to anyone."

Well, that accounted for the vagueness in her letters. Even though all she'd promised was to think about it, I couldn't help feeling disgruntled that she hadn't taken my advice. She had to do something, didn't she? But then, I didn't really know how things had been the last few months while I was away. And it wasn't like I had made great strides in following her suggestions, either.

Aang rang the doorbell and Sokka greeted us himself. I hadn't seen my uncle since before I had run away, and of course he had to make a joke about that. "Taking off without warning to go wandering all over the world," Sokka said with a wry shake of his head. "You got that from your father, obviously." He clapped me on the back, and Aang and I both winced.

Fortunately, shopping was something of a vice of Sokka's, so he had an extensive wardrobe from which he could easily outfit me. The rich silk tunic and jacket he handed me were the appropriate royal blue, but the cut of the garments looked more like an Earth Kingdom style than anything I remembered the men at the south pole wearing. I said as much to Sokka, but he merely shrugged and said the fashions were changing. They had not, apparently, changed enough to render the plain topknot I had reluctantly worked my hair into acceptable - Sokka insisted on restyling it into a wolf's tail.

Taking in my appearance in the mirror when all was said and done was like looking at an alternate version of myself - Bumi of the Water Tribe. Perhaps, if I really had been a nonbender, that's who I would have become, embracing my mother's culture as Kya had done.

There was a hint of something almost mournful in Aang's eyes when he saw me that gave me the impression he was thinking the same thing, and even wishing it had been the case. How ironic, that my father was now disappointed in me because I wasn't a nonbender.

But there was no time to talk about it. The three of us had a party to attend.


The ballroom at city hall was full of people. I had thought of these summits as rather intimate affairs, but Aang explained to me that each council member and head of state had a whole staff of clerks, scribes, advisors, and other personnel behind them, and while these people mostly worked behind the scenes, they were all invited to the opening reception. The business of maintaining world peace was a lot more complicated than I had realized.

Most of the guests wore green, red, or blue, of course, but there were a few Air Acolytes from the group that lived at the Southern Air Temple now, and they were delighted to see Aang. Sokka was soon dragged away from us by an Earth Kingdom man wanting to talk to him about some new invention of his - a device for recording sound, the workings of which were way over my head, but which had Sokka nodding in interest as they walked off. I stuck by Aang's side as he continued to work the crowd, greeting everyone by name, from the mayor of Republic City to the secretary to the economic advisor to the Northern Water Tribe councilman. For a while, everything was going smoothly.

Then, the Fire Lord arrived.

Aang and I were well on the other side of the room when Zuko and Izumi entered, but Aang's friendly smile disappeared at the sight of them, and his eyes hardened. The woman he had been talking to, an advisor to the Earth Kingdom councilman, clearly noticed this sudden change. "Forgive us," I hastily put in before she could say anything. "But my father and I haven't had a chance to get anything to drink yet." And with that rather feeble excuse, I took Aang firmly by the arm and steered him towards the punch bowl.

"You know," Aang said darkly, his eyes still fixed on Zuko, as I forced a glass of the sickly sweet red beverage into his hands. "Part of me didn't think he'd dare to show up."

That seemed a rather irrational hope, I thought, watching Zuko carefully avoid looking in our direction as he made his own round of greetings. But I had more pressing concerns. "If you keep glaring at him like that," I warned in a low voice, "you might as well hit him, for all that people are going to talk."

Aang tore his eyes away, to glare at me instead. "Sorry, I'm not as experienced at hiding these things as you."

It was an unfair thing for him to say, but this wasn't the place to argue. "You asked me to come," I reminded him instead.

Aang took a sip of the punch as if to steady himself, then grimaced at the taste. "They always make this too strong," he muttered, but didn't set the glass aside. I looked down at my own glass with a frown. I didn't like to drink much, and hadn't realized the punch was spiked.

But before I had a chance to swap out the drink for something else, Sokka found us again. "There you are, nephew!" he said brightly, throwing an arm around my shoulders. In his other hand he held his own glass of punch, and I suspected he had already seen the bottom of it at least once. "What's a young lad like you doing hanging around your old man all night, huh?" Tossing a conspiratorial wink at Aang, Sokka leaned in towards me and said in what he probably thought was a discreet whisper, "There's a girl here who wants to talk to you."

"I don't think…" I began, but Sokka ignored my protest and dragged me away, leaving Aang frowning down at his glass. I hoped some other friend of his would come talk to him and distract him - he clearly knew many people at this party. Whatever girl Sokka was trying to introduce me to, I'd have to find an exit from her conversation as soon as I politely could to resume my duties as Aang's chaperone.

But the girl in question turned out to be none other than Izumi.

"Your highness," Sokka greeted her with an exaggerated bow that somehow didn't spill his drink. "The young gentleman whose company you requested." And with another clap on my back, he wandered off to cause mischief elsewhere.

"Funny seeing you here," Izumi said dryly. I noticed her glass held only water, and envied her. I set aside my own barely touched glass of punch on a nearby table.

"What did you say to my uncle?" I asked curiously.

"Only that I recognized you as a student at one of the universities," Izumi replied in an innocent voice, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. Her hair was as dark as mine, but smooth and straight where mine was coarse like my mother's. "I didn't say which one, of course," she added reassuringly.

I glanced around quickly, looking for Aang. He was over by the hors d'oeuvres table, once again glaring obviously at Zuko. As I watched, Zuko cast a furtive glance in Aang's direction, then shrank slightly and hastily looked away. But both of them were engaged in conversation with other people, so I figured they were relatively safe for the time being, and I could take advantage of the opportunity to chat with my sister.

"Well, is your first trip outside the Fire Nation everything you hoped it would be?" I asked.

Izumi smiled thinly. "It has certainly been educational so far," she replied. "Did you know, to appease the court about my coming, we had to bring not one but two physicians as part of our retinue?"

"Two doctors, huh?" I said with a chuckle. "In case the first one gets sick?"

Izumi laughed at the joke as well. "In case the Fire Lord and his heir are both taken ill," she explained in her most decorous, courtly voice, rather than the more casual tone she usually took with me. "So that we may each have a physician's undivided attention."

"You are a treasure to your nation, Princess," I reminded her with an ironic bow of my own, far less dramatic than Sokka's had been. "It's only natural that they are protective."

"Indeed," Izumi agreed. She took a sip of her water, then gave me a teasing look. "I have not made the most persuasive case for you to take my place, have I?"

I rolled my eyes at what was by now an old joke between us. "No, you have not," I said. Nor did I harbor any longer even the slightest doubt about the legality of such an absurd hypothetical. My studies of Fire Nation history had made it quite clear that while a royal bastard might go on to do many things, he could never take the throne. "I'm afraid you'll have to continue to shoulder that burden."

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Aang slipping out of the ballroom through one of the glass doors that led out to the gardens behind city hall. I knew I should go check on him, but Sokka had found Zuko and seemed to be talking his ear off, so I didn't feel rushed. "It's going to be a very interesting summit, isn't it?" Izumi said quietly, having followed my gaze towards our father.

"That's why we're here," I replied just as quietly.

Izumi glanced back over at me. "By the way," she said. "You look good in blue."

I tugged at the sleeves of my jacket self-consciously. "I feel ridiculous," I admitted. "These are Sokka's clothes. I never dress this nice." Even my naval dress uniform had not been so fussy.

Izumi looped her arm through mine, which I thought was a touch overly familiar for such a public setting, and guided me towards the table I had set my drink on a moment ago. I still had no interest in the punch, but when we sat, a waiter came over and filled our water cups almost immediately, for which I was grateful. "Tell me about Republic City," Izumi prompted, sounding less like a princess and more like my sister again. "What's there to do here?"

"Oh, plenty," I replied. "But I don't think you'll have time to go take in a pro-bending match during your stay."

"Why do you think I want you to tell me about it?" Izumi shot back, leaning in eagerly.

I gave in, and told her what I knew about the sport, and about the city's other attractions - the theater, the restaurants, the Museum of the Four Nations. This last Izumi informed me she and Zuko were scheduled to tour as part of their official visit, though she didn't sound as enthusiastic about it as I had been. My sister learned her lessons dutifully, but she did not share my interest in history.

Unfortunately, Izumi and I became so engrossed in talking to each other that we failed to notice when Zuko quietly slipped out of the ballroom as well. So much for our chaperone duties.

I was alerted to my failure when Aang marched up to our table, furious. "We're leaving," he said to me, curtly, completely ignoring Izumi. People were staring, and murmuring under their breaths, Aang's sudden reappearance and rude behavior causing a scene, though Zuko was nowhere in sight. With an apologetic glance at my sister, I obediently got up and hurried after Aang out of the ballroom.

"What happened?" I asked once we were alone, outside of city hall in the cool night air.

"I punched Zuko in the face," Aang replied flatly as we crossed the plaza.

"No, really," I said, taking this as a brush off answer. Aang was the most non-violent person I knew. He wouldn't have done that, no matter how angry he was, nor how rightly so. "What actually happened?"

Aang stopped, rubbing the knuckles on his right fist with the opposite hand. "Really," he said, looking down at his hands. "Zuko came looking for me and tried to apologize." He spat the last word, as if Zuko's apology had been only a further insult. "And I hit him." His shoulders slumped.

"Oh, great," I groaned, rubbing my temples. I was a complete failure. This was going to cause an international incident, I was certain. The summit would fall apart, the United Republic would collapse, war would break out again, and it would be all my fault. I started back towards city hall, as if I could somehow smooth things over, but Aang's voice halted me in my tracks.

"What's wrong with me?" he said quietly, and utterly distraught.

"What's wrong with you?" I echoed in astonishment, turning back towards him. Aang was still looking down at his own hands like he couldn't believe what he had done. "Dad, I don't think anyone who knew what he did would blame you." The problem was, of course, no one was supposed to know.

Aang looked up at me, the same mournful look he'd given me back at Sokka's house, wishing everything had been different. "You don't…" he started, but then shook his head. "Nevermind. Let's just go home."

We didn't speak much on the rest of the trip back to Air Temple Island. But as we disembarked from the ferry and walked up the dock, Aang made one last comment on the incident, seemingly out of the blue. "I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive him," he said bitterly.

I only nodded in reply. That was no more than I had expected.


In spite of my poor performance at the welcoming party, Aang still wanted to bring me to the first summit meetings the next day. When I protested that there was no plausible excuse for my presence, he simply insisted that the Avatar could bring whoever he liked. So, in yet another borrowed Water Tribe outfit, though thankfully a less stuffy one this time, I found myself seated at the round conference table next to Aang.

Seated directly across from me was Zuko, with an ugly purple bruise further marring the side of his face already disfigured by the scar. When the Earth Kingdom councilman had expressed concern at the Fire Lord's appearance, Zuko had offered a curt explanation about having tripped and fallen. Standing to his side and slightly behind, Izumi had met my eye, discreetly held up two fingers, and mouthed the words both doctors. I had stifled a nervous laugh, relieved that she, at least, was taking the incident in stride.

But as the meeting got underway, all desire to laugh evaporated.

It was terribly awkward. Zuko's gaze kept slipping over to me while other people were talking, and he had to ask the council members to repeat themselves several times. Aang, for his part, refused to speak to Zuko directly, directing all his questions and comments for the Fire Lord to Izumi, insisting that the princess was there to learn about diplomacy, after all. This grew increasingly uncomfortable as the meeting went on, and Izumi's embarrassment at having to continuously look to her father for answers became evident to everyone in the room. Sokka tried to lighten the mood with a joke, and while some people forced a few chuckles, Aang and Zuko were both clearly not amused.

When we adjourned for lunch, I overheard the Earth Kingdom councilman complaining to his aide that these meetings were usually far more productive. The aide nodded in agreement. Meanwhile, the Northern Water Tribe councilman was leaning in and saying something to Sokka in a low voice, with a suspicious glance at the Fire Lord. Whatever he said had Sokka frowning in concern as well.

This was very bad, I thought.


Mercifully, each of the dignitaries at the summit had private accommodations for lunch - somebody had had the sense to realize that after spending all day together in meetings, a common meal would have been too much even under the best of circumstances. And these were decidedly not the best of circumstances. Aang and I were shown to a small lounge and served a vegetarian meal.

"I don't know what these things are usually like," I commented as Aang poked sullenly at his noodles. "But I don't think this summit is going very well."

"It's not," Aang agreed, then set down his chopsticks with a sigh. "I'm sorry, Bumi, I thought I could do this, but…" He was interrupted by a knock at the door. When he called for the visitor to enter, it was Izumi who stepped into the room, shutting the door carefully behind her.

"Avatar Aang," she said with a polite bow of her head. "We need to talk."

Aang frowned, getting to his feet. "I'm sorry for putting you on the spot like that," he said sincerely. "I shouldn't have taken my anger out on you. But your father should not have sent you here, either."

"He didn't," Izumi replied, lifting her chin. "I came on my own."

I got to my feet as well. "Izumi, maybe this can wait," I said carefully. Aang was in an unpredictable mood, and the last thing I needed was for one of them to say something to offend the other. Our personal problems were causing enough trouble for the summit already.

But Izumi would not be deterred. "It can't wait," she insisted, her eyes snapping over to me. "And, respectfully, Bumi, I didn't come here to speak with you." She looked back at Aang, who was watching her with a stern expression. "I came here, on my own initiative, to tell you that I understand why you are angry at my father. But for the next three days that this summit is in session, you need to hold it together."

"I see," Aang said, crossing his arms. "And you thought that you needed to tell me this because?"

"Because at the next summit, in six months' time," Izumi replied calmly, "you will be dealing with me, and only me. And by then, I shall be better prepared than you found me this morning."

Aang looked like he wanted to say something scathing at this idea, but he held himself back. I spoke up instead. "Izumi, he can't just hide behind you," I pointed out. Too much had happened already, and Zuko withdrawing his personal involvement from the United Republic project now, while perhaps necessary, would only make things look worse.

"It won't be hiding," Izumi shot back, "if we let everyone know the truth."

"What?" I exclaimed. Aang, whom I suspected had been silently repeating a calming mantra to himself, now closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and sat back down at the table where our lunch was going cold.

Izumi strode forward confidently and took my seat opposite Aang, forcing me to take another chair in between them, on the third side of the small square table. "My father has already offered once, and Bumi refused," Izumi explained, once again speaking to Aang. Aang opened his eyes and gave me a look of surprise at that - I had never told him Zuko had wanted to claim me, thinking it would only upset him for no reason, since it wasn't going to happen. I met Aang's eyes sheepishly now and shrugged.

"And the Fire Lord is now graciously extending the offer a second time?" Aang guessed, his voice dripping with bitter sarcasm.

"No," Izumi replied. "He hasn't said anything about it, and I doubt he will, unless Bumi asks." She looked over at me pointedly. "I strongly advise you to ask."

"How would that help?" I asked skeptically. Instead of rumors, we would be facing a full-blown scandal, to the embarrassment of everyone involved.

"First of all," Izumi said, holding up one finger. "It's already obvious to everyone present for this summit, which means it will soon be known to the world, that the Fire Lord and the Avatar have had a falling out over something. Letting everyone know why will shift public opinion in the Avatar's favor, since he is the...aggrieved party in this dispute." To her credit, Izumi's voice only faltered slightly over this diplomatic euphemism. Aang caught it, and scoffed slightly, but otherwise did not interrupt her, listening carefully.

"That is how you benefit," Izumi went on, turning back to Aang. "How my father and I benefit, is that in telling the full, true story, we prevent people from inventing their own explanations, and the world can rest assured that the Fire Lord is not planning to start another war." Her eyes narrowed ominously, and she concluded by quoting one of the ancient Fire Nation philosophers. "Rumors of war unchecked become fact."

Aang was still giving Izumi a scrutinizing look, almost as if she reminded him of someone. "Your father's reputation will suffer, if the truth is known," he pointed out, but there was no malice in his voice.

Izumi nodded. "It will," she agreed. "But my nation's security, and the peace of the world, will be preserved."

That was all well and good, I thought petulantly in the moment of heavy silence that followed, as Aang and Izumi stared each other down. Did either of them care what I had to say about this? What if I didn't want the world to know me as Zuko's son? But then, I thought better. Of course I would have no say in the matter. Nobody gets to choose who their parents are. Zuko himself certainly wouldn't have chosen Ozai, and while Izumi loved Zuko, I knew she wouldn't have wanted to be the Fire Lord's daughter if she didn't have to be.

"I may have judged you too quickly, Princess," Aang said at last, breaking the silence. "It seems you have learned a great deal about diplomacy after all."

Izumi smiled at the compliment. "You agree, then?" she prompted eagerly, her polished persona giving way just slightly to something more girlish.

Aang glanced over at me before replying. "Give Bumi and I a chance to discuss it," he said, still rather curtly. I wasn't sure if that meant he was really considering it, or just looking to get Izumi to leave us alone, and I suppose that was the point. Aang knew something about diplomacy, too, after all, in spite of his behavior the previous evening.

Izumi agreed to this condition, and left us. I looked down at the now room temperature bowls of noodles and vegetables on the table. "Well, I guess I can warm these up," I offered, not much looking forward to discussing Izumi's proposal with Aang.

Aang gave me an unreadable look. "You know," he said slowly. "I've never seen you bend."

I shrugged, and picked up his bowl. "Hasn't been much chance for it, has there," I pointed out as I held he bowl in both hands, letting heat radiate from my palms. I used a little breath of fire, too, not actual flame, but shimmering hot air across the surface of the food, to try to heat it more evenly. "You'll still probably want to stir that," I advised as I set the bowl back down in front of him, then repeated the process with my own food.

We ate in awkward silence, Aang apparently as uninterested in talking about my legal paternity as I was. I began to suspect he had just been giving Izumi the brush off after all, and I was relieved. Things were still going badly, but we would find some other way to deal with the gossip.

But when we were finished eating, Aang asked me suddenly, "What else can you do?" At my blank expression, he clarified, "Your firebending. Show me something else." It only occurred to me then that Aang would have been just as capable of reheating the food as I was. For whatever reason, he genuinely wanted to see my firebending in action.

I stood and stepped away from the table, rubbing my hands together as I thought of what to show him. Nothing too big, of course, we were indoors. I lit a flame in my left hand, used my right to draw it just a little higher, then spun it into a rope, like the beginning of the fireworks trick I had shown Izumi. But instead of coiling the rope into a ball, I held it in its serpentine shape, and then very carefully, made other little jets of flame spout off of it - legs, arms, wings, a tapering tail, a head, and then, finally, a miniature breath of fire from the dragon's mouth.

I let out a deep breath as the fiery image faded, leaving behind nothing more than a fait shimmer of hot air, and even that was soon gone. "How was that?" I asked.

Aang was still staring at the empty space where the dragon had been. "Bumi," he said softly. "That was amazing." He got to his feet, came over to me, and put both his hands on my shoulders. "I had no idea you were so talented."

It was the praise I had wanted since I was six years old. I felt my eyes starting to sting. "Dad," I said, pleading. "I don't want to be Zuko's son. You know that, right? Even when I was angry at you, I've always wanted you to be my father."

Aang pulled me closer to him, not as desperate a hug as when he had first learned the truth, but still holding me securely. I felt small, even though I was taller than him. "I will always be your father," he said firmly. Then, after a moment, he went on in a more reluctant voice. "But you are also his son. And I think...I think Izumi might be right."

I knew she was. That didn't make me any happier about it.


The rest of the meetings went marginally better, but the cold formality between Aang and Zuko was still enough to spell trouble for anyone who had known them before, which unfortunately was just about everyone there for the summit. At the very least, Zuko did not seek Aang out privately again, and there were no more mysterious injuries to be explained.

But of course, I never got a chance to speak with Zuko privately, either, which meant I didn't get the opportunity to act on Izumi's advice. I told myself it was better not to bring it up during the summit, anyway, and distract him further. I could always write to him later on. Any official statement from the Fire Lord about me would have to wait.

When the summit finally ended, I had just two days left before I had to return to the Fire Nation. Kya and Tenzin were disappointed that so much of my time had been monopolized on this visit, but we made the most of those last two days that we could. Tenzin was not interested in another pro-bending match, but as I had told Izumi, there was plenty to do in Republic City. There was a Water Tribe cultural festival going on that we all enjoyed, and Kya even coaxed Tenzin and I into posing for a photograph dressed in traditional garb, saying that our mother would love to see the picture when she got back, since she had missed my visit.

But on the evening of the last day, Aang pulled me aside in the kitchen while Kya and Tenzin were otherwise occupied and handed me an unopened letter. "It came this morning," he said. "I thought you should read it first." The letter was from my mother.

I broke the seal and read. As I did my heart sank. My grandfather had died shortly after my mother had arrived at the south pole. The election of the new chief had been held immediately, as was customary, and the man chosen had asked my mother to stay longer, to advise him through the transition. She had agreed, meaning she wouldn't be coming back to Republic City for another six months at least.

To make matters worse, Aang didn't seem the least bit surprised when I told him what the letter contained. "I'm going to visit the Earth King soon," he said pensively. "I was already planning to take Kya and Tenzin with me." That was good news, at least, that he was including his daughter in his plans now. "Perhaps we'll make it a longer trip, and tour more of the Earth Kingdom."

"To distract them from Mom being gone, you mean," I said, crumpling the letter in my hands. Six months to help the new chief, and then what excuse would she find next? "I can't believe she's doing this."

But Aang did not seem to share my anger, or at least, it was tempered by something else this time. "I've certainly done it enough," he said softly. "I guess now it's her turn." He gave me a pointed look. "You've had yours, too."

"That's not the same," I said hotly, tossing the crumpled letter aside onto the kitchen table. "It wasn't supposed to…" I took a deep breath, closing my eyes. "Telling the truth was supposed to help her fix things, but she's just making them worse."

I felt Aang put one hand on my shoulder. "Maybe this is just how it has to be," he said, voice heavy with resignation.

"I doubt Kya and Tenzin would agree," I shot back, shrugging him off. Aang had no answer for that, and I retreated to my room to meditate, leaving him the task of explaining to my brother and sister that our mother wasn't coming home after all.

Nobody mentioned anything about it when I said my goodbyes the next morning, but everyone was very subdued. In the bathroom, after Kya had finished fixing her hair, I had already seen the picture of the three of us in Water Tribe clothes crumpled and thrown in the trash.