Zuko marveled at the flame, still flickering brightly in his palm. He slowly stood up, passed it from hand to hand, and then imagined more of his energy flowing out into it. The blaze grew larger and brighter and his eyes widened. Zuko tried to put even more juice into the fire but found that his concentration was waning, the haze of warmth he had created disappearing along with it. Frustration crept in, his breathing became more ragged, and the fire sputtered before snuffing out.
"Damn!" he hissed. He'd almost had it!
Plopping back to the floor, Zuko smiled to himself. For the first time in his life, a flame he'd produced had been stable, even strong. It looked like the dragons had been able to help him after all because he could finally start progressing through his basic firebending forms at a reasonable pace!
I'll have to practice a lot.
Irrespective of the fact that he could properly fuel his bending now, control was still an issue. His fire had flickered out in moments when he'd tried to make it burn brighter, and he'd need more power if he was ever going to master advanced techniques.
Adopting a pensive expression, Zuko considered his options. Uncle had always told him that meditation was an excellent tool for developing control of the breath and emotions, so maybe he'd do that. He'd drawn on his fond memories of Azula and his mother, so perhaps choosing a place that reminded him of them could anchor him more strongly in the feelings he'd experienced.
The turtleduck pond in the garden could work.
Zuko had made up his mind. Gathering his things up quickly, he set out to the royal garden.
It was a balmy summer day in the Fire Nation. Zuko was sweltering as he stepped out into the jungle-like expanse of the garden, trudging toward the tree he always sat under with his mother to feed the turtleducks. Wasting no time, he sat down and prepared to meditate.
Closing his eyes and breathing in, he felt a plethora of sensations. The wet heat pressed in on him from all angles. The slight shifts in the air on his skin as the breeze blew past. He heard the chirping of birds flitting through the trees and the murmurings of servants as they strolled through the nearby corridors. Zuko allowed himself to get lost in the sensations, entering a dream-like state while breathing deeply. He began to focus once more on the same memories, feeling a now-familiar warmth spread through his limbs.
Zuko exhaled more forcefully, pushing the heat out into his palms. He felt the ignition, the new, more intense warmth in his hands, and grinned.
There.
He knew he'd have to work to keep the fire going this time. He wouldn't let it sputter out once more. Continuing to breathe, he let go of more of his awareness, drifting off into a fluid, churning mental space composed of all the sounds and sensations of the garden, his childhood, and felt a change in the flame.
The longer he breathed, the more the fire adopted a sort of rhythm, heating up as he inhaled and then cooling with the exhale. Opening his eyes, Zuko realized that it grew larger and smaller accordingly as well.
Wow.
Standing up, Zuko held the fire gingerly in his hands before adopting a ready stance. He moved slowly, taking himself through the moves for a basic firebending set, allowing the flames to travel lazily between his hands in circles while pushing them out at intervals in wave-like strikes. Zuko had to go even slower than normal to keep the burn going and soon worked up a hard sweat and sore muscles. He began to waver once more and the flames flickered out.
Jeez, this is hard.
He plopped to the floor and wiped the sweat from his face.
But I'm going to go again anyway.
Closing his eyes again, Zuko started to breathe.
oooo
Azula hadn't expected anything out of the ordinary to happen today. After all, why would it? She'd woken up, dressed, and gotten through her etiquette lessons with ease. She'd been on her way to the garden for some firebending practice when she'd caught sight of something she'd never expected to see.
Zuko. Meditating.
It wasn't like she'd never seen Zuko try to meditate before. The attempts had been pitiful of course, full of him fidgeting uncomfortably under the instructor's increasingly furious glare before breaking into a pout and waiting for Mother to rescue him. This, however, was different.
Zuko was really meditating, sitting shirtless and cross-legged under the garden's sprawling central tree and breathing deeply with his eyes closed. That wasn't even the most shocking part though; that was what lay crackling in his hands.
For as long as she could remember, Zuko had barely been a firebender. The most recent display of this had been at that fateful meeting with Grandfather, where Zuzu had foolishly requested to display what he'd learned and sent a smattering of cold red flames at the old man's face.
Now, though, Zuko's fire looked…different…somehow. There still wasn't anything particularly impressive about it, but it was strong, stable, like there was finally a solid source of fuel keeping it burning. It wasn't the same red as before either, now a clear, yellow-orange similar to her own. A proper flame that wouldn't be blown out at the slightest gust of wind.
Azula was surprised and not altogether pleased. Zuko being an abysmal bender had always been her leverage against him with Father, granting her leeway to treat him as she pleased within the constraints of Mother's rules (thank goodness those were gone now). If Zuko were to become capable of defending himself, or even worse, impressing Father, she'd have to completely reorient her lifestyle and find new ways to curry favor.
Filing this new tidbit of information away in her head, Azula scurried off into the depths of the palace.
oooo
Zuko was, to put it quite simply, exhausted. He'd spent the entire afternoon alternating between meditating and running through his basic firebending forms, growing more sure of them each time. At the end of the ordeal, he'd been drenched in sweat and his limbs had felt liquid, leading him to collapse into a heaving heap beside the pond.
Nevertheless, Zuko was proud of himself.
For the first time in his life, he'd been able to consistently produce flames, strong ones, and they'd grown more powerful as his self-confidence swelled.
This monumental progress didn't mean that his bending struggles were over, however.
As it had become more apparent to his instructors that Zuko may be a hopeless case at bending, they had become lax with his training. They had put less effort into ensuring that he learned anything, abandoning the relentless drilling of old in favor of disinterested offering of tips on stance and generating power. Zuko had lost whatever amount of conditioning he'd gained, and if he were to achieve proficiency at more advanced forms, he'd have to build the endurance to practice. He'd have to attain better control of his limbs to avoid flopping about when attempting anything resembling acrobatics.
What to do…
If Zuko was being honest, he had no clue who to approach about getting in shape. His father had no time, let alone willingness, to train him personally. Azula would scoff in his face and tell him he was a loser for not having been strong already. That left…
Zuko's eyes brightened.
That's it!
The royal palace employed an expansive staff of servants, cooks, and most importantly guards. Any member of the palace guard had to have been a decorated warrior or firebender who had proven their ability to handle operations of high value. All of them would have decades' worth of fighting and training experience they could impart to him.
Trouble was, Zuko couldn't just commandeer a palace guard to train him. Or…could he? He was the Crown Prince, meaning there was technically no higher authority than himself (besides his father of course) in the entire Fire Nation.
There's no use in not giving it a shot.
Having made up his mind, Zuko set out to find his new teacher.
While Zuko was not familiar with all of the minute workings of the palace, he certainly knew where to find the guard quarters. He'd been able to make his way there rather quickly, rounding corners until he reached a large, combined mess-lounge with adjacent barracks and a training field. Scanning the room quickly, he recognized a few faces among the men huddled around tables discussing their days and enjoying meals, and frowned.
Though Zuko was naturally somewhat removed from the palace staff being a royal, he was aware of some of its members' attitudes toward him. He noticed the sidelong glances sometimes cast at him and often heard gossip about his bending difficulties and rocky relationship with the Firelord. Zuko could see among these guards some of the people who'd felt no shame about discussing his failures and ruled them out as potential teachers. Continuing to look around the room, the Prince noticed a kindly-looking, older guard who almost reminded him of his Uncle Iroh. The man was chatting animatedly with a younger guard, seemingly regaling him with some grand story, before letting out a booming laugh.
Zuko smiled a little at that and decided he'd found the guard he'd like to approach. Steeling himself, he began to walk toward the man.
oooo
Zhu-Li Sato had been a palace guard for nearly twenty years. He'd distinguished himself as an infantry warrior, and later battalion commander, during the Fire Nation's campaigns to capture much of the interior Earth Kingdom territories that surrounded Ba Sing Se. A few close run-ins with death and the fact that he had family in the homeland led to an honorable discharge, but Sato had still felt the need to serve his nation.
The aging man had seen a lot during the war and then more at the palace, which one may expect given the idiosyncrasies possessed by nearly every member of the royal family. What he'd never expected, however, was to be approached directly by a member of said family for a personal favor.
Sato had seen and heard about Prince Zuko, now heir to the Dragon Throne. The boy had been sickly as a small child, timid yet sometimes petulant as an older one, and was known to be the subject of his father's disdain on account of his poor bending abilities. Sato had been surprised to learn of the Prince's struggles but never bothered to consider them or the boy with anything more than a passing feeling of pity.
That was, of course, until Zuko had strode up to him at the guards' lounge and requested personal training. For Sato to say that he'd been taken aback would be a massive understatement.
He'd informed the Prince that while he was certainly within the bounds of his privileges to ask, Sato was only a warrior and that firebending royals had historically never received warrior's training, learning martial arts only within the context of attaining bending mastery.
Prince Zuko had shifted his feet uncertainly, eyes drifting toward the floor, before straightening himself, looking Sato in the eye, and declaring that he still desired warrior's instruction. The old guard had been surprised once more and thought that there was something different about the child.
At birth, it had been said among the palace staff that Zuko had no fire in his eyes. He didn't rise with the sun and was often tired or silent, showcasing none of the robust attitude children from the royal line were known for. Now, as he made his request, Sato thought, there seemed to be plenty of light in the Prince's eyes. They were a bright honey-gold, not crackling with barely-contained fire like his sister or father but a more subtle, stable glow.
The grizzled veteran had reacted with hesitancy at first hearing the boy's request, worried that a fragile and impotent child couldn't handle the rigors of serious training, but the new air of determination surrounding him gave the man a second thought.
He'd given Zuko a tentative yes, telling the Prince that he'd have to deliver an itinerary of sorts to his suites so they could sort out times to meet and work. Zuko had perked up immediately and smiled brightly, telling Sato how excited he was to begin before rushing off to who knows where.
After waving lightly upon the boy's departure, Sato slumped lightly and considered his next move. He'd agreed to teach the Crown Prince, but that was no light matter. Before giving Zuko his final answer, there was someone he'd need to speak to, a man whose wishes concerning the Prince he could not dare to circumvent. Still, Sato hoped his coming assignment would provide an opportunity to broach the subject.
oooo
Sato's assignment that evening was to stand guard around the Firelord's private offices. This was a relatively routine responsibility, one that he'd fulfilled before, but he was filled with an unusual trepidation.
Firelord Ozai was not exactly unpleasant to his staff. He was a cold and austere man but would maintain a measure of civility as long as those in his employ acted competently. That being said, Sato was about to approach him about matters concerning his son. Still, the old man had been in the royal family's retinue for decades now, giving him a modicum of peace about the coming interaction.
The shift passed uneventfully, and when he was relieved, Sato asked the new guard to wait momentarily while he entered the room to speak with the Firelord. Knocking on the door, he'd received the okay to enter and did so slowly.
"Firelord Ozai," Sato began with an accompanying bow, "I'd hoped to speak with you about something before I retire for the evening."
Ozai looked up lazily. Even seated, his presence filled the room oppressively and the burning heat of his golden gaze bored into Sato's head. Shadows danced across his face in the flickering candlelight, enhancing the effect and making him appear like some dark predator peering at a helpless prey animal.
"You know, Zhu-Li," he drawled, "your long service has afforded you certain privileges so I allowed your intrusion. Nonetheless, say what you must quickly."
Sato breathed deeply.
"I know this is likely of little concern to you, Firelord, but I was approached today by Prince Zuko with an unusual request. He asked me to train him in the warrior arts, refusing to be deterred even when I informed him of royal benders' historic aversion to doing so."
Ozai's eyes narrowed, not with anger but as though he'd entered a state of intense thought. The silence between the two men was an abyss.
"Prince Zuko has proven himself repeatedly a failure, so it doesn't surprise me that he's asked you this. It is a pitiful attempt at developing skills, skills not befitting of him, in the hopes of adding some value to his being."
The Firelord stood abruptly and twisted to face Sato head-on, features twisted into a sneer.
"The Prince's disgrace will persist irrespective of whether he trains with you. Teach him what you wish."
Sato had stepped back in surprise at Ozai's display but regained enough composure to nod, bow, and hastily leave the chamber. Closing the door behind him, he exhaled sharply and made his way.