The black haze of sleep receded from his eyes as their lids fluttered open. Looking around, the features of his bedroom grew clearer, all bathed in the grayish light of the hours shortly preceding daybreak. Rolling into a sitting position, the young man breathed out a sigh. Golden orbs pierced the dull atmosphere.

Today is the day.

Slivers of light, glancing off the polished wooden fixtures in the room, cast shadows on the planes of his body. Lean muscles visibly tensed as the prince steeled himself to rise from bed and begin his preparations for the day's proceedings.

He performed his ablutions methodically but detachedly, consciousness flitting elsewhere as he scraped stubble from his face, scrubbed his teeth, and slowly tied his ebony hair into a severe knot. Before long, the lull of his activities carried him into memories.

oooo

"Are you ready for your lesson today, Zuko?"

The prince nodded eagerly, and Iroh smiled.

"You asked if the balance between the Throne's power and the nobles' remains tenuous to this day. It does, and your father has asked me to enlighten you as to the nature of this balance, especially after the beginning of the war."

Anticipation shining in his eyes, Zuko motioned for his uncle to continue.

"You see, Zuko, the Throne relies greatly on the cooperation of the nobles to fuel the war effort. Extraction of raw resources, harvesting of various agricultural products, all such processes are overseen largely on a local level by the vassals and their underlings. Your father and his advisors work tirelessly to ensure that all shares to be taken by the Throne are accounted for, but lately, there have been…discrepancies. Supplies unaccounted for, money unpaid, official upon official covering for one another's indiscretions.

Anger flaring, Zuko interrupted.

"How can they do that, Uncle? Don't they understand the importance of the war? Don't they care about its end goal?"

"Their greed overpowers their understanding of these things, Zuko, and that is why we need to…"

oooo

"I take it your tutelage is progressing well, Zuko?"

The prince, slightly older now, taller and with newly-hollowed cheeks, curled his lips into a slight smile.

"Yes Father, Uncle Iroh has enlightened me about much of the nobles' indiscretions, their duplicity in handling resources, their collaboration to undermine your power to exact their dues. I wouldn't be surprised if their machinations go farther, as far as trying to remove our family from power."

Ozai smiled and a spark of pride flared in Zuko's chest.

"Your intuition pleases me, son, and you are not far from the truth. Our family remains safe through strength, but among those loyal to us, kidnappings, murders, torture, and other such tragedies have come to pass."

The warmth within the prince turned into simmering anger, which the Firelord seemed perfectly capable of detecting.

"I am pleased to see your indignation at these treasonous acts…"

oooo

"What do you mean I should have some sympathy, Uncle!?"

Zuko stormed from his seat and rounded on the graying general, eyes flashing.

"Father has told me of their acts, their assaults on those loyal to us, crimes that layer upon their existing treason. Why should they be given any harbor!?"

Iroh's head bowed and a sigh escaped him softly.

"Well?" Zuko queried snappily. "You told me once that the nobles' greed overpowers their appreciation for the Nation's noble goals, so what's changed?"

"I said that in the hopes of introducing you to the situation at hand, Zuko. You weren't ready for me to divulge all of the nuances, but it seems that we are at the point where I must. The truth is that it isn't always greed. The war may be noble and worthwhile in its overarching aim, but it has been hard on our people. Factories pollute the water and air, produce demands leave villagers wanting food, and the families whose members die at war are strained further to provide for themselves. Sometimes, the nobles do what they feel they must to sustain the people in their provinces, irrespective of that decision's conflict with the Throne's interests."

Zuko's bravado left him, conflict written all over his features.

"But to disobey the Firelord's wishes…"

Iroh raised a hand.

"In the moment, when one's people are clamoring for aid, it's not so simple."

The prince averted his eyes.

oooo

Zuko emerged through the doorway to find that, as he had now come to expect, Azula was sitting in the lounge of the royal suite, sipping tea.

As had become the custom, he procured a platter of fruit and sat down across from her. The silence remained unbroken as they mulled over their respective fare, still not looking at one another.

Azula began to swirl her spoon in the cup, scraping the metal across the porcelain rim and producing a distinctive twinkling sound. Zuko soon found it maddening and knew he had to interrupt.

"Would you like to spar again?" he blurted.

Azula looked up, eyes narrowed, and peered at him over her cup.

Zuko fidgeted at her silence, raising a hand to scratch the back of his head before thinking better of it.

"Not like last time though" he muttered. "No trying to kill each other."

Swirling her spoon once more, Azula set the cup down.

"Let's go."

Later, after spurts of golden flame scorched past one another, tumbles were taken in the grass, and yelps of annoyance could be heard by all the staff passing by the training yard, the two siblings returned to the suite. Heaving and covered in soot, they exchanged glances and smirked as they parted to clean up.

oooo

"You've never tried to generate lightning again, at least not when I've been around to see."

Azula looked up from her scroll to see Zuko leaning in the doorway, the glare from the candlelight in the hall washing his features out some.

Zuko was taller now, and from what he'd seen in the mirror, was beginning to look more grown up. Azula, too, had become more sharp-featured, and it was clear she would grow to become quite striking.

"We spar all the time, and I know that you could beat me without it if you really wanted to. That doesn't explain why you don't at least try to give yourself the additional advantage though."

Azula's expression was tense – it was apparent she was uncomfortable with this line of questioning. Zuko could see the slight tremble in her hand and abandoned it.

"Come on, my lessons are over. Let's go raid the kitchens."

oooo

Azula.

Zuko's grip on the edge of the sink grew tighter. He let out a huff into the mirror before him, the vapor clouding the reflection of his face.

She'll kill me if I don't tell her about what happens at the war meeting today.

After a lengthy conversation with his uncle, he'd been allowed to accompany the general to tonight's strategic conference, observe the workings of the military council, and how a royal was expected to contribute to them.

Anticipation curled in Zuko's stomach.

The past two years had opened his eyes in a discomfiting way. He was walking into this meeting with barely-contained anger at many of its attendants, knowing of their plots and indiscretions toward the Throne's power. Adding to his confusion, he couldn't even entirely blame them, now understanding that the country was perhaps not flourishing as he'd thought.

The event would hopefully bring him some clarity.

Having finished his morning routine, the sun now peeking shyly into the bedroom, Zuko departed.

oooo

Golden whips seared through the humid air around him. Zuko could feel the sun beating on the back of his neck, losing himself in the envelope of heat that was inescapable during Fire Nation summers. He swirled the whips in complicated, arcing patterns, drawing them so close to his body that an onlooker would have been shocked that he did not burn.

Lashing them outward, Zuko sliced scores in the trees around him, spinning and drawing them together into a large wave that he blasted out toward the courtyard's wall, the impact audible and cracks forming in the bricks. The prince launched into a set of acrobatics, flipping backward repeatedly while unleashing jets of flame from his feet, grimacing in satisfaction at the precision with which he did so.

Zuko pleased himself quite often nowadays with the state of his training.

Over the years, Iroh had exposed him to even more unorthodox stores of bending resources, showing him earthbending katas, more advanced waterbending, and even training manuscripts taken from the Air Temples.

The boy had developed an unorthodox style, mixing these foreign influences with his steadily growing knowledge of traditional firebending.

Sparring with Azula had played no small part in his development either. Zuko felt pushed nearly to his limit every time the siblings faced off, pulling out every trick in the book to avoid being crisped.

Azula's flames took on a bluish tinge more often than not nowadays and she'd only gotten quicker, meaning Zuko had to capitalize on his superior strength and inherent resourcefulness to power through or redirect her attacks.

It was always exhausting, and he knew she always held a little of herself back, but there were still times when he managed to make unexpected forays past her defenses and put the prodigious princess on the defensive.

I'm thinking about her again.

Zuko's thoughts frequently drifted to his relationship with Azula. Since their great clash two years ago, they'd grown far more companionable, taking meals together and training. The pair were not quite friendly as they had been as small children, but the vicious antagonism the princess had thrown at him had faded into the background almost entirely.

That being said, things weren't always smooth.

Azula had moments where she would fall into bouts of turbulent pensiveness. These often began after his periodic meetings with the Firelord and lasted for a few days. At these times, she would always react to his requests or inquiries about training with something resembling her old acidity, questioning why she would ever be interested in spending time with him.

Zuko had spent a great deal of time analyzing the buildup to her "lightning fiasco" and concluded that her moods had something to do with lingering insecurity over being saved by him.

She'd always been the favorite, right?

He suspected that she'd been worried about his new closeness with their Father and felt the need to prove herself. Failing and then having to be saved by him must have been crushing, and her inability to produce lightning again after couldn't have helped.

Zuko hadn't mentioned any of this Azula, though. That wouldn't be prudent.

"Zuzu."

The prince let loose a final blast of fire before turning toward the voice. The subject of his musings stood before him, head tilted and arms crossed.

"I hope I don't have to remind you to fill me in on everything that's decided at the meeting tonight."

Zuko smiled wryly.

"I couldn't forget, Azula."

Rolling her eyes with mock contempt, she turned to head back into the palace depths. Shaking his head, the prince followed after her.

oooo

"I hope I don't have to remind you to stay silent Zuko."

Zuko rolled his eyes.

"Of course not, Uncle. You've told me so many times already."

Dusk had fallen. Oranges and violets streamed through the carved windows of Iroh's study, casting strange shadows around the room.

Zuko, hair freshly washed and brushed after an appointment with his servants, sat before his uncle nursing a cup of tea. The general in question looked at him, worry etched in the gray lines of his face. In time, however, the man's lips curled into a soft smile. Pouring himself a cup, he gazed at his young nephew and tried to ignore the ominous atmosphere that he could feel pressing upon him.

oooo

It's time.

Feeling the plates of his ceremonial armor shift uncomfortably across his shin, Zuko grimaced. A bead of sweat made its way slowly down his neck and past his collar.

He turned to his uncle beside him as they approached the great set of doors leading into the throne room, flanked on each side by a helmeted guard.

Iroh turned to his nephew and saw the uncertainty on the boy's face. He nodded placatingly and gestured for Zuko to go forward.

Taking a deep breath, the prince made his way through the doors after the guards parted ways for him.

Entering the vast room, Zuko was shocked by the oppressive atmosphere. The flames burning before Ozai's throne bathed the entire room, paneled with black ceramic and mahogany to begin with, in a deep red.

As he made his way toward the stage to take his seat at Ozai's right, Zuko saw shadows dance across the long table in the center of the room, making the generals and other officials seated appear faceless and their game pieces flicker in and out of sight.

Taking his seat, the prince could feel his heart in his chest. Staring out at the congregation before him, he didn't dare to look back but took some solace in the sound of Iroh settling down behind him.

Before long, Ozai's voice sounded for the meeting to begin, and the mutterings of those at the table rose into proper discussions of important proceedings. Zuko could scarcely make out much of what was said, his nervousness causing him to withdraw into his head and focus on maintaining a composed exterior. Still, a snippet of conversation at the table soon caught his attention.

"The Earth Kingdom defenses are concentrated here. A dangerous battalion of their strongest earthbenders and fiercest warriors. So, I am recommending the forty-first division."

They're discussing troop distribution.

Military strategy was important enough for Zuko to pay attention to, so he drew himself out of his funk and fixed his gaze on the speaker.

General Bujing.

Zuko curled his lip in distaste. He'd heard of the man's escapades from his uncle, learned of his unnecessary expenditure of troops in battle and general apathy toward his men.

"But the forty-first is entirely new recruits. How do you expect them to defeat a powerful Earth Kingdom battalion?" another officer replied.

Bujing smirked as he turned to face the Firelord.

"I don't. They'll be used as a distraction while we mount an attack from the rear. What better to use as bait than fresh meat?"

Zuko's ears were ringing. His conversations with Iroh about how Fire Nation elites were somewhat out-of-touch with the war's effect on the common man came rushing back, filling him with a burning urge to speak out against this injustice.

Almost as if he was being compelled, the prince shot to his feet.

"You can't sacrifice an entire division like that! Those soldiers love and defend our nation! How can you betray them?"

The grand hall fell silent immediately. Zuko still stood, heart in his throat, watching Bujing stare with shock and indignation on his face.

The crackle of the flames before Ozai's throne grew louder and Zuko could feel the wash of heat lapping at his left cheek.

"Zuko." the Firelord intoned in a deceptively soft voice.

"In speaking out of turn, you've committed an act of complete disrespect, one you know can only be absolved in one way."

Zuko did his best to school his features, to ignore the fear enveloping him and the way his throat seemed to be closing up. He pictured the faces of the young recruits out on the battlefield, screaming and rushing away in horror as a regiment of advanced earthbenders closed in on them.

His expression became defiant, and he fixed his stare on the smirking Bujing.

"I am not afraid." he said in a strong voice.

Behind the wall of flames, invisible to all, Ozai leered in pleasure.

oooo

"What were you thinking?!" Iroh bellowed at the prince in the privacy of his study.

"I urged you so many times to simply be quiet, but it seems you cannot follow even so basic a directive."

Zuko shrunk only a little but maintained much of the defiance he'd displayed earlier in the war room.

"You know I was correct Uncle! That man had no right to suggest sacrificing troops like that. He's a despicable old fool and I'll have no trouble dispatching him in an Agni Kai!"

Iroh deflated and looked at Zuko guiltily, as though he knew something the young man did not. Still, he refrained from commenting any further.

"Don't go into this overconfident, Zuko. Bujing may be aged but he is an experienced fighter. Remember your basics and take nothing for granted."

The prince nodded before leaving to find Azula.

oooo

He found her by the pond in the garden, bathed in candlelight and working intently at a calligraphy scroll. She had her back to him, and before he could come around to greet her properly, she began to speak.

"I heard you yelled at an old general for throwing fresh recruits in the face of hard fire."

Zuko stopped walking and simply stared.

"Yeah."

"And that you accepted the offer of an Agni Kai to settle the issue."

"That too."

Azula finally turned to look at her brother, an odd expression on her face. Her lips seemed to be trying to curl up into a pleased smirk, as though excited by the possibility of Zuko endangering himself in a risky duel against an experienced opponent. The mirth didn't reach her eyes, however, which contained a flicker of apprehension.

"It's like you to get all sentimental at the idea of foot soldiers dying en masse. You get it from Mother. Still, I understand your displeasure to a degree. We've already had to force conscription to feed fresh faces into the military and it's senseless to waste them without exploring other options."

Zuko smiled a little at that.

"I take it you'll be watching, then?"

Azula scoffed and turned back to her writing.

"Of course I will. I wouldn't miss out on the chance to see you embarrass yourself thoroughly.

oooo

An Agni Kai was never delayed too long after the initial challenge was issued. That didn't mean Zuko was expecting to be entering the arena the very next evening.

He walked through the tunnel leading out into the amphitheater with butterflies in his stomach, feeling the roar of the crowd grow louder as he progressed. At the end of the tunnel, light from the massive torches around the structure created glare that made his eyes water, almost forcing him to avert them.

Finally exiting, he scanned around to see row upon row of audience members stacked upon one another, faceless, waving banners and pumping fists in preparation for what was now a rare occasion.

Zuko gulped but continued walking up the stairs to the center stage. Turning his back to where his opponent would enter the ring, he knelt and took a calming breath.

Remember your basics.

The roaring reached new heights and a gong sounded loudly. Rising, Zuko turned and allowed the ceremonial tippet to fall from his shoulders.

No.

The prince's mind ground to a halt. Walking slowly toward him from the other end of the field was a nightmare beyond his imagination, an apparition whose face was shadowed by the torchlight but whose form was unmistakable.

Father.

Zuko dropped to his knees.

oooo

Azula's hands shot to the armrests of her seat, and she clutched them tightly, her knuckles turning white.

Father.

She couldn't say that she hadn't been expecting this. By speaking out in the war room, Zuko hadn't so much disrespected the old general as he had the Firelord, who was presiding over the entire affair. Still, to see the man walk slowly toward his son in preparation for battle was jarring, to say the least.

How do I feel about this?

Azula was an extremely practical person. She understood that the aftermath of this battle, which would almost certainly be Zuko's disgrace, was a perfect opportunity for her own advancement, for her to develop a stronger working relationship with her father. A part of her was almost rabidly awaiting the time when her brother would be out of the picture, allowing her to charm Ozai into bestowing upon her significant responsibilities in running the nation.

But…

Memories of shared morning teas, training in the yard, unsupervised forays into Caldera City, and more suddenly flashed behind Azula's sharp eyes.

Do I really want Zuko gone?

It seemed she would not get the time to mull over this possibility, because the sound of Zuko's cries forced her out of her contemplation.

oooo

Zuko felt hot tears stream down his cheeks and fall to the tiled floor of the arena. His shoulders shook as his mind struggled to comprehend the reality of what was happening, who had come to face him.

"Please, Father. I only had the Fire Nation's best interest at heart. I'm sorry I spoke out of turn!" he cried.

"You will fight for your honor." Ozai exclaimed forcefully.

Through his heaving, Zuko managed to force out more words.

"I meant you no disrespect." The prince turned his gaze up to the Firelord and put every ounce of regret he could manage into his impression, imploring the man to find the compassion to have mercy on him somewhere in his heart. "I am your loyal son."

"Rise and fight, Prince Zuko!" Ozai ordered.

Zuko's brain geared into overdrive.

He's not going to take no for an answer. I can't understand why…but he won't. I can hear it in his voice. Whatever happens next, the consequences will be so much worse if I don't get up and fight.

Taking one last, shuddering breath, he rose to his feet and brought his hands to the ready. Ozai stopped his advance, gave his son a predatory smile, and burst forward.

Zuko's vision was washed in gold.

oooo

This battle with his father took the place of the "fight of his life" from the moment that it began. Zuko barely ducked out of the way of the blazing wave of flames that Ozai sent flying in his direction, sprinting as fast as he could to the other end of the arena before spinning around, using a jet of fire from his foot to stabilize himself.

Without a moment's notice, another fireball came careening in Zuko's direction, causing him to pirouette once more and drop to his feet, utilizing his now signature wheel kick to attempt to knock the Firelord off balance. Ozai simply broke the low arc of flame with a quick stomp before leaping forward, pushing both arms forward to unleash a vaguely dragon-shaped torrent of fire at the prince's face.

Forced to evade again, Zuko flipped over its trajectory and conjured a fire whip, shooting it forward in a spiraling pattern to sneak through his father's defenses. In a move similar to the one Azula employed, Ozai wreathed his hand in flame and seized the whip, but instead of yanking it forward, he simply dissipated it. The sudden loss of tension made Zuko stumble, but he still recovered fast enough to see the Firelord step and bring his arms together in a sweeping motion, producing twin waves of fire that were on course to crash into the prince on both sides.

There's no getting away from this.

Scrambling backward and bracing his feet, Zuko recalled an earthbending technique he'd seen in a scroll, squared his stance, and jutted his arms out in a square block, creating a wall of fire before him that pushed Ozai's assault to the sides.

Despite his efforts, the attack pushed the prince back considerably and he could feel his feet being scraped bloody along the way. Breaking the wall, Zuko's vision cleared just enough for him to see the Firelord's foot flying toward his chest, knocking the air out of him and sending him flying the remainder of the distance to the arena boundary.

Eyes swimming, Zuko propped himself up on his elbows. He felt his father's foot come to rest on his chest once more, but surprisingly, Ozai exerted no excess pressure. Just enough to make the already-forming bruise from his kick smart.

"You will learn respect, Prince Zuko." he said evenly, and with a voice quiet enough so that the audience could not hear, he added an afterthought.

"And I have a plan for you."

Pushing Zuko onto his back once more, the Firelord turned to depart from the arena.

oooo

The hours immediately following the duel were a blur. Zuko could barely remember rising from the arena floor and being ushered out hastily by a set of stewards. He'd been escorted back to his quarters and instructed to wait there until someone came to explain further details of his situation. The prince had been too dazed to properly acknowledge their words.

I fought Father. He said he has a plan for me.

Zuko had repeated these words in his head for what seemed like an eternity, rocking back and forth slightly on his bed until a knock on the door signaled someone's arrival.

"Zuko?" a husky voice queried.

The young man didn't answer, and his visitor took this as a sign to enter.

Iroh came slowly into the room, careful not to make any sudden movements to avoid shocking his obviously shaken nephew. Coming to the boy's side, he laid a hand softly on his still-bare shoulder.

"You've tracked some blood through the halls from where your feet were scraped up. I've brought supplies to dress them for you."

Zuko nodded dumbly as his uncle began the process of cleaning and binding the wounds. Upon finishing, the pair sat in silence for some time.

"Zuko, I –"

"Did you know?" the prince asked softly.

Iroh paused a moment before nodding.

Ire came to life behind Zuko's eyes.

"Then why didn't you –"

Iroh raised a hand. "I didn't want to frighten you. How would you have fared if you'd spent the time leading up to the duel knowing that you would be facing Ozai in battle? Any training you have received would become moot."

Zuko grunted his acknowledgment and quiet draped the pair once more.

"Father said he had a plan for me…to learn respect. What does that mean, exactly? Am I being punished? If I was meant to be punished, why didn't he just burn me?"

The general looked weary as he scratched his beard, seeming to be contemplating how best to answer his nephew's questions.

"Do you remember the lessons you've received over the last few years? The ones that have provided context for your father's difficulty in maintaining the war effort and control over his vassals?"

Zuko nodded.

"Your…lesson, as Ozai put it across to me, will be to make use of your tutelage. You will be journeying to what regions of the Fire Nation your father commands, acting as the emissary of his wishes and working to ensure their lords' compliance with them. I will be accompanying you."

The prince's eyes brightened.

"Well, Uncle, that doesn't sound too bad! When do we leave?"

Iroh's eyes darkened.

"Nephew, I am sorry to say that that is not all there is to this mission."

Zuko tilted his head in question.

"Until the time that your father sees fit, you are forbidden from returning to the Caldera."

oooo

Iroh had left some hours ago.

Zuko, head spinning after his uncle's final revelation, had opted to simply ready himself for bed and give himself the rest he'd undoubtedly need in preparation for tomorrow. Iroh had said that they would be leaving early the next morning.

He knew that his final visitor for the night would be arriving shortly, so he did not set aside additional time to give his goodbyes.

Soon enough, a slender figure came to stand in his doorway and cast a shadow into his room, delivering an obvious invitation for him to come up and speak.

"I had a feeling you'd be coming, Azula."

Azula gave him a scowl.

"Don't say things like that, acting as though I have some serious investment in saying goodbye to you."

Her exclamation didn't have the usual bite to it, and Zuko recognized her thinly-veiled vulnerability. He caught her eyes momentarily, but she quickly looked away.

"I'll try to write from time to time."

Azula's jaw clenched and Zuko could see a single tear slide down her face.

"Don't bet on getting a reply."

With that final declaration, she fled from the room, and as he watched her small form flit out the door, the prince felt with certainty that the image he had of his sister would not at all match the one he would return home to.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Author's Note:

And we reach the conclusion of chapter six. I apologize for the long wait – the schedule of an engineering student can often become quite hectic. Nonetheless, I aim to start updating this story more regularly once again. Reviews are always appreciated, and until next time, farewell.