Last chapter. I couldn't resist getting into the intrigue side of things, so this chapter is a little less personal and character-analytical, but I hope it causes my readers to examine a character's motivation.
Disclaimer: None of these other characters are mine - I just play with them. (grin)
5. Acceptance
The door to the audience chamber clanged shut; a person given to finding metaphors in daily life would have called it "ominous." The eternal flames ringing the throne of judgment (and the judge seated therein) only served to heighten the already tense sensation of impending doom about to visit the supplicant knelt before it.
Only, this supplicant faced the throne with the straight back and calm eyes of one well aware of the nature of the sentence before the judge utters a word.
"Fire Lord Ozai, you have summoned me, and I am here," Iroh said without ceremony, making the proper motions of respect.
Ozai's smirk, concealed by smoke and flame, came through quite clearly in his voice: "So good of you to deign to come, brother."
Iroh smiled good-naturedly in the face of the patricide. "What is it that the Fire Lord wishes to speak to me about, that he takes me away from my army at a critical hour?" he asked. Only days earlier, he would have rebuked his junior officers for such reckless abandonment of diplomacy.
Only days earlier, however, the world had not yet ended.
"Your army?" the Fire Lord chuckled, the sardonic sound echoing softly through the cavernous hall, "Insolence. Surely you don't believe that all those men and machines are or ever were at your personal disposal. Our dear departed father was surely mistaken to give so much power and so much trust to a general who flees in tears at the loss of his offspring."
Hidden in his lap, Iroh's right hand clenched instinctively, then immediately relaxed. "The siege has failed, yes, because of my shortcomings as a general," he replied in the same measured tone with which he had opened the dialogue, "The decision to retreat was mine alone, and I will bear whatever punishment the Fire Lord sees fit to mete out for my actions."
A telling silence, filled only with the crackle of flames, ensued; the Fire Lord seemed caught off-guard by the display of frankness, which surprised Iroh. "What game do you play, Iroh? Do you believe me to be a fool?" the Fire Lord asked, his voice little more than a whisper.
One had only to look at the frenetic dancing flames to see the anger the soft voice concealed.
Iroh did not flinch, knowing all too well that the conversation would come down to this, sooner or later. "I am sure I do not understand what the Fire Lord asks of me. What game would I play, if I come at his bidding, kneel before his throne without ally or excuse, and beg for his judgment upon me?"
"You would to die at my word so willingly?" the Fire Lord asked rhetorically, rather than the more dangerous question.
"If that is your judgment, so be it," Iroh answered after a pause, beginning to wonder if his brother would ever get to the point. Ozai did have a tendency to delight in the sufferings of those in his power, and though Iroh cared very little about "winning" any debate, he found this habit quite disgusting.
"You are aware that there are those who would see you overthrow me and claim your "rightful place" on this throne," the Fire Lord finally ventured.
Iroh sighed heavily - what usurper eventually did not betray his own awareness of the crime? "It is not I who wears the crown of the Fire Lord. Only the Fire Lord may choose his successor - neither tradition nor the whisperings of the court should sway him, if he believes his decision is for the good of the Fire Nation." Though Iroh suspected this could hardly apply to the current situation, he had the luxury of speaking from personal belief.
His aide's response to the summons had not been the last nor the loudest - more than a few of his staff and sub-commanders had voiced rage and suspicion over the rise of the newest leader of their nation. One had gone so far as to accuse the Fire Lord of murder; Iroh himself stripped the soldier of his rank, but made assurances that the man's family would suffer not reprisals. The potential for civil war was immediate and deadly, and Iroh knew it. He could only pray that his brother would prove to have developed sharper abilities in deception and diplomacy in the years Iroh had pursued the ends of the Fire Nation on the battlefield. The execution of competitors for the throne was a matter of course, but it was an operation that had to be handled delicately and with precision.
For the good of the nation, Iroh would not resist; for the good of his conscience, he would accept the punishment he knew was his due.
"You relinquish any claim you might have to the throne?" The Fire Lord's disbelief and surprise could hardly be more complete.
Usurpers did tend to suffer from the delusion that everyone sought the same power they had gained, Iroh realized. "I never had a desire to rule, as Fire Lord Zulon was well aware," he reminded his brother. To drive the point home (and hopefully, end this farce of a conversation), he continued: "From the throne, one loses touch with the cost in lives and suffering this war demands for the sake of our nation. I chose to become part of it, to always be aware of that cost. The Fire Lord cannot be aware, for he must never yield. Whatever course is the better, I do not know, but I will not surrender one path for another, even given the choice."
The Fire Lord laughed, a harsh, smug bark of a man suddenly reminded that he holds all the power and that his opponent is at his absolute mercy. "Do you seek to lecture me as to my role as Fire Lord? Do you think yourself so virtuous to engage in the dirt of battle that you can judge me? The blood of your men, of you son, is on your hands and your hands alone!"
Iroh bowed, pleased with the reaction - the conversation was finally back on course. "As you have said. What sentence fits such a crime?"
The Fire Lord paused, as if only just then mulling over the justice he would exact from his brother. "Iroh, you will be stripped of your title of "prince"…" No member of the royal family could be executed for a crime, after all.
'Luten, I will be seeing you again shortly…'
"You will surrender command of the army," the Fire Lord continued, "Furthermore, you will come to live here in the palace…"
Iroh started and stared at the Fire Lord in astonishment, caught by surprise for the first time during the proceedings.
The Fire Lord smiled cruelly. "… as my personal advisor. For the good of our nation, I cannot afford to discard so wise and heroic a warrior at this juncture. After all, what fool ruler would execute a man who single-handedly covered the retreat of an entire army from the most powerful Earth Kingdom city in the world, and then delivered that army, intact, through enemy lands to the conquered territories once more? Such brilliance and courage deserves reward."
'And watching.' "You are dismissed, General Iroh."
Iroh slowly rose to his feet and bowed heavily. "The Fire Lord is generous," he said, knowing that his brother could not have passed a more stern and cruel punishment.
His brother sneered. "You are not to die, General Iroh, Dragon of the West and hero to our nation. I still have use for you."
Iroh bowed once more, accepting judgment. "I am a servant of the Fire Nation - I will continue to serve it."
"You serve me, now. I am the Fire Nation." A magnanimous wave of the hand ended the conversation.
For now," brother,' Iroh amended for him as he walked back the long way, through the door that opened on his new life of servitude, 'As long as there is need of me here, I will obey.'
"Uncle! Uncle Iroh! You're back!"
'Here, there is much need,' Iroh admitted, turning to greet his nephew.
Life becomes a prison or an endless horizon - the choice is up to you.