Chapter 42

I know the last chapter threw you guys for a spin, and I'm sorry about this, but it was supposed to happen this way. And no, RJCA27 and nixster94, that won't be the last time you see Jet, I promise…though as for what situations he's in…I can't really say

Chapter 42: Aftermath

Zuko

He saw Katara's mouth drop open as the unfathomable thought entered her mind. His mother, kind, warm, loving, Princess Ursa…a murderer? The same woman who, despite her nobility, was the favorite royal among the common people. The only one to outdo her was Uncle Iroh—dead Uncle Iroh.

An embarrassing sob burst forth from Zuko's lips, and he tried to stifle it, but they just kept coming, as Zuko's entire being shook with the weight of this betrayal. He felt broken. His mother, the woman who would never tolerate Azula tormenting him, was now…he didn't even want to think the words.

But he couldn't help it. The accusing words bombarded his mind, loud and unforgiving as he wondered if his mother was in with his father from the beginning—but she couldn't have been—a large part of his mind told him. Ordered him. Willed him to believe. But the creeping suspicion of doubt that edged into his mind made believing that his mother wasn't just some bystander wormed its way inside of his brain and just wouldn't leave.

He felt Katara's soft hand, darkly contrasting with his pale skin, brushed along his shoulder blades to graze along his shoulders. She should have been weak…her lips were blue for Agni's sake…and yet…her hand, was cool to the touch, and strong. She shouldn't worry about him…but she was.

And he was glad for it.

She turned him to face her…but he couldn't meet her eyes, not at first. There were too many emotions twisting inside of him, anger, grief…and a hundred other things he couldn't even identify…but he knew they hurt. For two days he'd dealt with this alone, he didn't have the courage to face his mother, Katara was unconscious and Lu Ten was otherwise occupied.

Fire Lord Lu Ten…no longer the carefree Crown Prince he once could be, Zuko's 23-year-old cousin had an entire nation on his shoulders. It's not as though he was any different than King Kuei, Song's brother, ruling the northern Earth Kingdom and Ba Sing Se…but the difference was that Kuei had advisors, people he knew and trusted.

The Throne of the Fire Nation was more solitary than that. More all-encompassing. More isolating.

His Uncle…had he known his time was coming? Could he have somehow imagined, in his unconscious state that he was going to die? Too little time was spent with him, too little was his advice heeded, by both Zuko and Lu Ten…Zuko blamed himself, he could have done something.

Finally, the chest-wracking sobs stopped, Katara holding him all the while, her hands steady when his weren't. Once he'd gone quiet, and he'd been able to meet her eyes, she spoke.

"If it will somehow help…you know I'll listen."

She murmured delicately, her wide blue eyes unsure, no doubt confused by the conflicting emotions in his eyes.

There was no wavering, no hesitation in her voice. But Zuko could feel the anger rising in him, not at her, particularly…in fact, he wasn't sure who the anger was directed at, to be perfectly honest. Tiang for being an idiot, His father for no doubt orchestrating such a plan, or Uncle, for dying in the first place.

Maybe he was angry at himself.

"I don't know if it will help, Katara." He said, voice coming out harsher than he'd intended. But she didn't flinch. "I don't think anything will help. Not now."

She nodded. And didn't say anything. Zuko's hands balled into fists. But he wanted to talk, damn it! He just couldn't start, couldn't just blurt out the damning words with his own lips, because to do that would make him feel like he was betraying his entire being.

"But you still want to talk about it." She said simply, knowingly, brushing her messy brown hair out of her eyes.

"I do." He acknowledged, but he shook his head as well. "But don't make me say it, Katara. I don't think I could take it."

She nodded, crawling around him so that she could look him in the eye. He felt a twinge of guilt when he saw her arms shake with the effort, and her elbows almost buckle underneath her. He caught her arms, steadying her as she fell back onto the bed with soft thud. Tucking her legs under her, they were face to face now.

"Okay…" Katara reached forward, and squeezed his hand, not letting go, even after his reaction to her first question. "How about I ask you yes or no questions?"

Zuko nodded. He could do that.

Her pale blue eyes focused in on him, and Zuko wanted to look away. He didn't like how she could read him so easily. But she did. "Yes or no? Did you actually see your mother kill Uncle Iroh and Tiang?"

Zuko shook his head no.

"Then what did you—,"

"Yes or no questions, Katara. That's what we agreed upon." He forced out, shutting his eyes closed.

"Right. Sorry." She breathed out, though he could practically hear the burning curiosity on her lips. "Did the bell sound before Lu Ten and Song came in? Was their engagement ever properly announced?"

"No." He said, releasing a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. "They were still waiting in the hall while I left with you."

"Was your father in the ballroom when the Horn sounded?" Another no.

"He was with me. He stayed with me while the Imperial Physicians looked after you." Zuko snorted. "He seemed almost as concerned about your safety as I was."

Her questions continued. "Was your mother?" Another yes.

"If you saw her in the ballroom when they discovered your Uncle was dead, then how can you be sure that she killed him?" Katara questioned, leaning forward.

But her hands shook. Zuko didn't think that she wanted to believe that his mother was a killer any more than he did.

He tensed involuntarily. It was almost too much.

"Sorry..." Katara thought for a moment, reading his face. "But Zuko, I can't help but wonder…Are you absolutely certain your mother killed both Tiang and your Uncle?"

Zuko paused for a moment. To be perfectly honest, he wasn't exactly sure what happened that night.

"I thought I was. I'm not sure." He said quietly.

"Then tell me what happened." She looked at him steadily, expectantly. And with a sigh, he began to recount the story.

Zuko sighed, looking down at his lap. "There isn't really much to tell. I carried you in here, the doctors and Father trailing behind me…Father barked at them…ordering them to save you, or he'd kill them all. The Head Physician said that I was too much in the way…so I moved back. They covered you with blankets, burning incense, lighting candles, increasing the room's temperature so that you'd sweat out the poison."

"And then what?"

"I divided my time between staring at you…" His eyes blinked rapidly as the image of her unconscious and unresponsive body stayed burned in the forefront of his mind. "…And staring at my father. He was nervous, anxious…he couldn't stop looking at you. He seemed really concerned...it scared me for a moment."

Katara too looked skeptical. "You think with the way he's treated both you and I in the past he wouldn't care what happens to me."

"But he did Katara. I swear it." Zuko said, as his brain tried to comprehend his father's actions. "I don't know why, but he did." Zuko paused, remembering. "He told me to leave, he said that my nervous energy would make it harder for the doctors to treat you. So I left. Someone had to do damage control anyway, I figured that would be me."

"If you left, then how do you know—," She started to say, but he cut her off.

"I heard them talking." Zuko shrugged, absentmindedly playing with Katara's fingers, his hands itching for something to do. "I'd stopped to—well, I don't remember why I stopped, but I heard them."

Zuko paused inside of an alcove, leaning out of the window, hoping that the cooler night air would help him gather his thoughts. It wasn't working.

"Is it done?" He heard his father ask.

"Don't you trust me?" His mother responded, equally as serious.

"I don't trust anyone." He gave a light chuckle.

Zuko could sense the smile in his mother's voice. "A well-played move on your part, husband."

"And is she—,"

"She will no longer be a liability, husband."

"Good. You didn't—,"

"I did nothing."

"There is no turning back now, surely you understand that."

"I do." A pause. "And will Katara be—,"

"She will be fine. That girl has survived too much to die now."

"I should hope so. For Zuko's sake."

"Of course. Everything is for Zuko's sake."

And then the horn started to ring...and Zuko knew.

"What did they mean by…everything is for your sake?" Katara murmured, almost to herself.

Zuko shrugged. "I don't know." His fist clenched tighter, making Katara hiss and yank her fingers out of his grasp. He looked at her apologetically. "I'm sorry. It's just—why is my mother aligning herself with my father? Especially now? He's never once looked at her in the past 15 years, why would he just—suddenly—be so caring with her?"

"Is that such a bad thing?" She asked, "Your parents being together…Didn't you want that?"

Zuko shrugged, moving to rise off the bed. All the sitting was making his legs cramp up. "I suppose I did, once." He stretched, reaching his arms over his head and expelling a yawn, shoulders sagging as he felt the weight of his arms come back down and the feeling come back to his legs and toes. "But now? When everything is so chaotic?"

"Maybe your father realized that he made mistakes." She said, joining him in standing. The white cotton dress hung loosely about her and fell from her shoulders. "Maybe he had nothing to do with this. Maybe Tiang worked alone?"

Zuko's teeth rubbed against his bottom lip as his whole body tensed. Could it be true? Could Tiang really have done this by herself and his father be none the wiser? It was unlikely, but still a possibility. But then who killed Tiang? What if?

"It's possible…But that still leaves the question. Who killed Tiang?"

"Tiang could have killed herself, as a final act of revenge." Zuko raised an eyebrow, but Katara continued. "Think about it. She knew she was going to die anyway…maybe she just wanted to die on her own terms?"

"And where does my mother come into all of this?" Zuko said quietly. "I don't think she could have killed my Uncle anymore…but she and Tiang were rivals, that's why she talked about Tiang being a liability, Maybe—,"

"Maybe…" Katara acknowledged.

"She killed herself, just so you know."

Both Zuko and Katara looked up to see Azula standing there, arms crossed over her chest, a nonchalant expression on her face, though her fingers were trembling, and her eyes were rimmed with red. She wore all white, the color of mourning and sadness in the Fire Nation, a loose gown that clasped in the front. It was shapeless, formless, and only outlined by a golden trim along the hem and the sleeve. In her hands was a similar looking garment.

"Azula." Zuko turned to her, his eyes full of suspicion. "What do you want?"

"Relax, big brother." Azula sauntered in, placing the clothing on the bed. "I'm here to relay a message. Our Aunt has summoned us all—including Katara, now that she's awake. I was sent to wake you and give you both your clothes for today."

"What's wrong with my normal clothes?" Katara asked, and she too seemed suspicious of Azula's actions and words, though not as much as Zuko.

"They aren't Fire Nation Tradition. When someone dies, we wear white." Azula said, but there was something—off about her. "For mourning, for sadness…To remember the ones we've lost…" And Azula looked away from them, her body giving a slight jerk, lips pressed together, as though she were trying to stop herself from crying.

She wasn't the same girl she once was…and Zuko didn't know what to make of it. It was in the way she didn't make eye contact. The biting and confident tone she held before only seemed to weaken and worsen. Until she was speaking with just a fraction of the volume she once had. And her voice was near breaking. Apparently, the situation was affecting her more than she'd let on.

More than they'd all let on.

"Your mother wasn't all that horrible." Zuko tried to extend the proverbial olive branch. "I'm sorry she's dead."

But Azula threw it back in his face. Seeming almost angry. "Do you think that it's my mother that's got me like this? I don't care that she's dead, and I doubt you do either, Zuko."

So, whatever was bothering her had nothing to do with her mother? Then what?

He decided to test the waters again. "You don't mean that."

Now she glared at him, seeming angrier than before. "Oh, don't be stupid, Zuko. No one is broken up and crying themselves to sleep because she's dead. I'm not." The 16-year-old snorted darkly. "I'm surprised no one's dancing in the streets yet."

"But she was your mother! Aren't you even going to miss her?" Katara blurted out the words before she could stop herself, and Zuko saw her clamp her hand over her mouth like she'd said a curse.

"My mother never cared about me a day in her life, Katara." Azula shook her head sadly. "My mother cared about me only when she was using me as a means to an end." She chuckled lightly, but her voice was full of pain that he didn't understand. "She always used to tell me that I'd failed her from the start…not being born before you Zuko."

"I don't know what to say to that." Zuko replied stiffly. If Azula had been born before him…well their roles in life would have been different to say the least.

"I envy the relationship you have with your mother, Zuko. And I admit...it's one of the reasons I hated you as a child." Azula said quietly, though she looked at Katara and Zuko directly. The couple shared a glance, eyes wide in confusion. "My mother won't be missed by many people. Least of all me."

"So, what are you going to do now?" Zuko couldn't help but ask of his sister when she started to turn away from them.

"I guess I'll be in my room—alone—after the summons of course." And her eyes looked like they would fill with tears, widening, but she blinked them away before they could fall. "Guess I'll always be alone now."

And she turned from them. Preparing to leave the room.

"Azula—wait." Before he knew what he was doing, Zuko reached out and grabbed her wrist. She turned, more out of shock that he'd touched her than out of any desire to hear him talk.

"Zuko what are you—,"

They both looked down to where their skin made contact. Zuko hadn't touched her since the accident 3 years ago.

Zuko could see that a few tears had fallen. Maybe she wasn't the heartless girl he'd always assumed she was. But bad things happen when you assume.

But Zuko shook his head, cutting her off. "I don't know what you're feeling, Azula and I don't think you'll ever get close enough to me to let me in. But you're my sister…and if you need me…" He trailed off, his eyes flashing to hers a few times before looking away.

He dropped her arm, stepping away from her. "You know where to find me, I guess." He shrugged, wishing the mourning clothes he had on had pockets so he could shove his hands into them.

"Me too." Katara said, coming up from behind Zuko. And Zuko turned to her as well, wondering what had gotten into the both of them this morning. "We didn't get off to the best start…but we can change that, I suppose."

Azula's eyes blinked at them rapidly, almost appearing not to focus, before finally resting on Zuko's face. And was it just him, or did her eyes lighten a bit? As though they didn't hold as much malice as they did before…The confident Fire Nation Princess was still there…but she'd changed somehow…still as arrogant…but not as…malevolent.

"But why…?" She finally asked, after what felt like hours, her golden eyes flicking between them both. The couple just stared at her nervously. "I've made your lives miserable. From the moment I met you, Katara, and you Zuko—," She broke off, biting her lip—a very un -Azula like characteristic— and looked down, anywhere but his face.

Is that guilt in her eyes?

"We're only half siblings," Azula protested, frowning, her mouth looking like it was going to curl up into a sneer before she thought better of it. "There are full siblings who despise each other for lesser offenses, and I—,"

But he cut her off. "You're my sister, half or not, we have the same blood." Zuko said simply. "I had Lu Ten, my mother and Uncle Iroh—," Zuko felt his voice constrict as he said it, still unsure of where his mother lay in this whole mess, and Uncle Iroh's death being too raw, too recent to say without pain coursing through him. But he continued. "You only had Father, and your own mother…and we both know how demanding and pushy they are."

"Zuko…" Azula started to speak, wanting to protest again as her brows furrowed, adding to the confusion on her face. "I don't…"

He spoke tenderly to his sister, and honestly, he wasn't sure why he was being so nice to her. Maybe it was because he recognized himself in this obviously tormented girl—though what she was tormented by, he couldn't say. Maybe she would tell him or tell Katara.

"Our Father and your Mother forced you to grow up long before your time, Azula…all because Father expected the best from you and your mother wanted you to be someone you're not. If anyone knows how that feels…it's me." Azula looked away from him. "You've spent most of your life manipulating everyone…you're very good at it, but I wonder what would have happened if you didn't have their influence." Zuko said, and the two siblings almost smiled at each other because of their shared pasts…maybe they weren't so different after all.

Azula smiled. It was a sad, bitter smile, full of pain and loss, but it was better than the near-comatose state she'd been in before then.

"I guess we'd better go," Zuko shrugged, offering his sister one last smile. Azula nodded, though her hands were shaking. He glanced down at Katara, who smiled back up at him, clearly pleased at his effort with his sister. He'd tried to make it better, but who really knew if you could undo 15 years of sibling rivalry with one conversation?

Probably not.

Azula, most likely hated him even more now. She probably saw it as him trying to pry into her deepest secrets. But he wasn't. At least, not really.

So they turned, and Zuko, feeling some sort of mixture of satisfaction and apprehension spinning in his gut. But he froze when Azula spoke, the words she said sending shivers up his spine.

"Zuzu?" She called out to him, and a part of him was in such disbelief that she said it…the affectionate childhood nicknames she'd stopped using 11 years ago. Her mother had told her that Zuko was the enemy, and everyone knew that you can't make friends with enemies.

But he'd turned to her right then, because while the voice she spoke with was wavering and uncertain, two adjectives he'd never thought would describe Azula…he could hear just a fraction of that same childhood affection.

"Yes Azula?" He asked, his eyes wary, but searching.

"Thank you." She smiled, a little happier this time, and Zuko's never seen her smile like this.

So, he grinned back. "You're welcome, Azula."

Katara's exuberant grin told him more than ever how proud she was of him, how much joy she felt at seeing a sibling relationship hopefully repaired.

They weren't whole yet, but maybe…just maybe…they could be.

"Goodbye, Zuzu." Azula practically sang out from behind them as the door closed. Her voice was light and almost teasing, and Zuko had to resist the urge not to quip something back, for the teasing tone that embodied the little sister she was, had come back now in full force. He turned back to Katara, who'd already began shrugging on the loose white robe. She still looked tired, but they couldn't hide from the world.

Not now.

Azula wasn't hiding, and Zuko figured that she would have the most to hide. And even though she'd changed, whether from her mother's death, or something else entirely, Azula would still remain Azula.

She'd always had to have the last word.

He still hated the nickname. But not as much as before.

Lu Ten

His back was to her, but he heard her light, dainty footsteps over the crackle of the fire burning in the hearth of his room.

He'd been staring into it, trying to come to terms with his newfound power. He was Fire Lord. The 23-year-old ruler of an entire nation. Although, he shouldn't be complaining. King Kuei became the Earth King when he was only 20. Lu Ten had 3 more years' experience on the man…more time to learn how to rule…and yet he hadn't even paid attention.

Lu Ten felt like a child on the first day of school. Lost, confused…feeling an immense amount of pressure with no one there to guide him. But his mother would, surely. She would see how her son was floundering, how the nerves were getting to him already and he hadn't even received the crown yet.

But his mother only saw what she wanted to see. She'd refused to believe that his father was dying long before he drew his final breath. She'd refused to let him make mistakes, to learn, instead of having others just tell him what to do.

She'd thought she was protecting him. When all she really did was prove to the world how unprepared and inexperienced he was for his precision. He was like a doll walking over a precipice.

He was going to smash. He would smash into a million tiny pieces, because it was too late to learn how to rule, too late to change his ways. Lu Ten had no time left.

For the first time in his life, Lu Ten didn't have an answer for the problem at hand.

"The traitor's death has been ruled a suicide." The Princess of the Earth Kingdom informed him.

"Has it now?" Lu Ten quirked an eyebrow. "I should think that would be obvious. The knife was in her hands, and she was alone in the room. It doesn't take an idiot to figure that out."

"Is something, wrong My Lord?"

Since when did I become My Lord to her? He didn't want to be anybody's Lord. Especially not the woman he was supposed to be marrying.

"What happened to calling me Lu Ten?" He asked her the question, but was still not looking at her.

"We are not married. And you're Fire Lord, and I…a mere Princess." She paused for a moment. "It wouldn't be proper."

"In case you haven't noticed by now, Song…I'm not exactly concerned with propriety right about now." He glared into the flames, watching them dance and lick the walls of the hearth.

But she ignored what he said. Did she too, like his mother, overlook his flaws in the hope that she could somehow solve his problems for him?

Lu Ten didn't think his problems could be solved with etiquette lessons.

She continued on as though he hadn't spoken. "I've written to my brother, informing of this tragedy. He will be here for the funeral…and your subsequent coronation."

Lu Ten nodded absentmindedly, not really listening to her. "Thank you, Song."

My father's funeral.

The grief had barreled into him like a komodo rhino, knocking to the ground and making every organ in his body hurt until he could breathe no more. Lu Ten had known his father was dying, but he was always there. As long as his father was alive, even remotely, there was a safety net. With his father alive, there wasn't a single chance he could fall. But he was falling, and cracking.

His mother had been worse.

The denial she'd built up around her husband's death had snapped when she saw all the blood, the knife being held by the concubine's traitorous fingers, loosely wrapped around the cold metal as the woman lay dead on the floor, having slit her own throat to avoid public execution. His mother didn't want to believe it at first. She'd wailed, and smacked his face, calling for him, ordering him to wake up, but nothing had worked. Her husband was dead, and she'd refused to acknowledge the signs. Maybe if she had…

Well it didn't matter what would have happened. His father, her husband, the most well-liked Fire Lord in the history of the Fire Nation…was dead.

And there was nothing that Lu Ten could do about it.

Damn it all.

But he realized she was still waiting for him to say something else, watching him with her big brown eyes. "We should be married soon." He told her, but it was matter of fact, lacking all joy.

"As I've told you before. My needs are of little concern to me. I wanted to know if you were alright, My Lord." She said demurely, sitting gracefully on the dark red cushion in front of the fire.

Am I alright? Do I look alright, to you? He wanted to snap at her.

But Song didn't deserve his anger. Tiang did. But Tiang was dead, killed by her own hand. He should have executed her before. But his mother wanted to hear Azula's evidence…He should have asked her what the point was. As if Azula would turn in her mother. Lu Ten would never betray his own mother, and Zuko would never betray his…so why did they expect Azula to do the same? They'd all known Tiang was a power-grabbing whore since day one. She should have died a long time ago.

Lu Ten was only angry he didn't get to swing the sword over the bitch's head. Cleaving the head from the vindictive woman's body would have alleviate the tension that consumed his entire being.

No, even in death, Tiang was selfish in dying by her own hand. Just like her daughter. Just like everyone in this palace.

Lu Ten stared angrily into the fire, watching with unwavering eyes as it burned its way over the coals and wood, consuming them, brightening, glowing in its infinite lifespan. At the bottom, beneath the fuel, ash had settled, a dark grey against the black at the base of the fireplace.

Out of the ashes of the previous great reign…Lu Ten couldn't help but form the coronation words in his head…like the sun…we will rise a newer, brighter era.

Could he do it? Could he really lead the Fire Nation into a newer, brighter era?

He didn't know. Lu Ten had fun playing the prince…but when duty calls…and call it did, loud and clear. He had no idea what to do. He wished his mother was here…but she wasn't.

"I'm fine." He forced out, hoping that he sounded convincing.

But he didn't think that Song believed him.

Or maybe she did, because Song was all smiles as she hesitantly reached out and covered her hands with her own, pulling him closer and placing them in her lap to intertwine with hers. "That's wonderful my Lord. I was worried that the grief over your father's death would consume you…it wouldn't be right for the Fire Lord to be unwavering…showing such loud and raucous displays of emotion."

She was right of course.

When it came to public image and propriety…he had a feeling that Song would take care of it.

But she lacked the passion, the drive, and the outward displays of emotion that he couldn't show. Someone had to possess enough emotion for them both or he thought one of them would explode.

He thought back to when her eyes flashed when Yue challenged her—for him. Oh, he'd seen emotion out of her then. She was jealous and spiteful towards the woman who would become his concubine, all hidden carefully behind a polite smile and pleasant lips. She'd ordered the servants to prepare a room for the ex-priestess—then shoved him into bed for a little over an hour.

But even in bed she was still proper. Her hair never left the confines of that absurdly complicated braid she always had it in, her fingers were light, never digging into his body, staking the claim she had over him. No, Song had let him do what he wanted with her, whatever position he wanted, obeying his requests as if they were orders. While he caught his breath, she just laid there…silent…waiting for him to move or tell her what to do.

Was that the real Song? Or was that the product of 19 years of tutors and instructors and life in the Ba Sing Se court?

Would he ever get to see her lose control?

But Song wasn't Yue…and he really should stop trying to compare the two.

Honestly, this is what his younger self would have wanted. Two beautiful women, vying for his attention…and a child on the way. Well, his younger self could have done without the child…and Lu Ten wasn't even sure if he wanted a child now.

How could he be a father? How could he take care of another life when he needed someone to take care of him?

But children make dynasties, his mother had told him the evening of Yue's arrival. Why do you think Water Tribe women have 4 and 5 children? I know for a fact that if Cheiftess Kya didn't have those birth complications, the Water Tribe palace would be full of children right now.

But what did his mother know about dynasties anyway?

"My Lord? Did you hear me?" Song said quietly, tugging on his hand a little to get his attention.

"No—I—I'm sorry…I wasn't. Forgive me." He said, bringing her hands to his lips and kissing them gently.

"A Fire Lord shouldn't have to apologize…" Song said, her eyes meeting his again. In a bold move, (for Song, anyway), she moved his hand out of her lap, to the curve of her breast, and while smaller than Yue's they were no less appealing or able to entice him. "However, if you wanted to show your appreciation, there are other ways we could…"

Lu Ten could feel his libido firing, as blood shot to one organ he hadn't really been thinking about for the longest time.

Do you really think now is the best time? A little voice criticized him. You're the Fire Lord! Have some fucking decency!

Despite the warning, he continued to knead the flesh in his hand as though it were his anchor to sanity. Fuck you, conscience.

He only recently noticed that Song's dress clasped in the front instead of the back. Eagerly, almost too eagerly, he undid the clasp, pulling the gown off of her shoulders, showing the 19-year-old's smooth expanse of skin, to the pale perfection that was her stomach. Lu Ten could almost applaud her for how daring she'd been. Not like the Song he knew at all. So, she came here with this in mind. Well, if she wanted him, his growing erection would be only too happy to oblige.

She'd be a good distraction, anyway. And if Lu Ten was good at anything, he was good at procrastination.

The Princess' eyes fluttered closed, and her head leaned back as he moved from one side, to the other, now feeling soft skin instead of silk. A soft gasp leapt its way from her throat, and Lu Ten lowered his head, mouth watering as he took in the taste of her—

"Forgive me, I didn't know I was interrupting." The voice appeared from behind them, smooth and unwavering.

Lu Ten jumped—they both did, and stood— Song rising just as gracefully as before. They turned to see Lu Ten's uncle, the Prince Ozai, standing before them in the doorway.

Song covered herself gracefully, and she was perfect, not displaying any of the embarrassment Lu Ten now felt coursing through his veins instead of arousal.

"I was going to see if you could use my company, perhaps some advice—," His eyes flickered to Song almost lustfully. "But I can see that you already have company. And why would you want to listen to your old Uncle when you have a beauty on your lap."

"I would never be so wanton to display myself like that ordinarily, Prince Ozai." Song spoke, her eyes narrowing at the new Crown Prince to the Fire Nation throne.

"Really now?" Ozai quipped, his brow raised in a mocking sort of disbelief.

Song's chin lifted regally, displaying her newfound status as the acting Fire Lady, if only in name, because Lu Ten had not had his coronation yet. She had a higher status than him now, and she would make sure Prince Ozai knew his place, if Lu Ten wouldn't.

"In case you didn't notice, this is Fire Lord Lu Ten's personal bedchamber. You should not have entered without announcing yourself." Song flashed a delicate smile. "It is protocol, I'm sure you understand."

For a moment, Lu Ten saw something dark flash in Uncle Ozai's eyes and he realized that he had to de-escalate this situation before it got out of hand.

"U-Uncle." Lu Ten stammered, despite himself. He sounded nothing like the Fire Lord that Song expected him to be…like his mother expected him to be. He smiled brightly, hoping his enthusiasm covered up any of the nervousness coursing through his veins. "Of course, you're obviously welcome. Please, feel free to visit me any time."

Uncle Ozai shook his head, an almost fiery glint in his eye. Maybe he wasn't expecting Song to challenge him. "No, no…your bride-to-be is right, my dear nephew—I'm sorry—my dear nephew the Fire Lord" He corrected himself. And Lu Ten felt a shiver race down his spine involuntarily. Ozai's teeth flashed in the dark as he broke out into a grin that bordered a line between concern and absolute glee. "Why do you sit in the dark? Come into the light." He gestured behind them to the hallway just outside of Lu Ten's room, which was fully illuminated by torches on the wall.

"I find, Uncle that sitting here in front of the fire allows me to contemplate things on a much larger scale." His eyes met his Uncle's dark gold eyes, issuing a challenge of his own. "As a Fire Lord should."

He could see, out of the corner of his eye, Song's approving nod at his response.

Lu Ten cleared his throat, hoping the way he clenched and unclenched his fingers didn't tell his Uncle how much turmoil he was in.

But instead of rising to the bait, Uncle Ozai just…ignored him. As though he wasn't standing there…as though he wasn't Fire Lord. Lu Ten felt a wave of anxiety travel through him. Did he not intimidate his Uncle? For some reason, Lu Ten's father was able to keep his younger brother under control…but how?

No, instead, Prince Ozai turned his attention to Song. His teeth flashed again, and Lu Ten couldn't help glance at his wife-in-all-but-name. "Princess Song, I was hoping to have a word with my nephew, alone."

For a second, Lu Ten thought Song was going to reply. She certainly looked insulted enough to reply with something biting, cutting his Uncle with words. But she didn't. How strange. She merely nodded, bowing to Lu Ten, and seeing herself out of the room.

He watched her go. Wishing she would have stayed. Lu Ten didn't want to be alone with his Uncle.

On one hand…he knew Tiang couldn't have acted alone. She wasn't smart enough. But she'd had Zhao, and he was one of the best tacticians in the Fire Nation army so there was one mystery solved. But Zhao was arrested, and Tiang had no contact with him for days…so the only option left…who?

The person standing right in front of him. His Uncle Ozai?

But Lu Ten mentally shook his head.

It was too obvious. Too easy. Uncle Ozai wouldn't be that stupid. With his brother dead, stabbed to death by his own concubine in an act of revenge…Ozai would have to know that everyone would point fingers at him first. So, his Uncle being the one to order Tiang didn't make sense. It couldn't. Uncle Ozai was too smart for that.

Still, he eyes his uncle with suspicion, arms folded as they moved back to the fire burning in the fireplace. Ozai allowed Lu Ten to sit first, before taking a seat, giving his nephew a small grin that didn't ease Lu Ten in the slightest.

"What did you want to speak to me about?" Lu Ten asked, not looking at the older man. No, instead, Lu Ten stared into the fire, much like he was doing originally.

But his Uncle stared too, but who knew what thoughts were running through Ozai's head. "For the Fire Lord's coronation, dignitaries from around the world are invited to attend. The Earth King, the Head Abbots and Abbesses of all of the Air Temples, every important figure in the world." Ozai grinned.

Lu Ten said nothing, and just let his Uncle finish speaking. Where was he going with this?

"The entire country is free to come and watch the joint funeral-coronation. The crowds can stretch endlessly, off into the distance as they wait to see what kind of bright era their new Fire Lord will lead them into—and to send off the old one, of course."

"I know all of this Uncle." Lu Ten said, his voice devoid of emotion. Leave it to the one person who intimidated him to tell him what he already knew.

"I'm sure you do."

"So, if I may ask, what exactly, is your point, Uncle?" The young Fire Lord snapped harshly. And now Lu Ten did look at his Uncle, fixed him with a hard stare. But his uncle was unfazed by this.

"I want to know…if you're prepare for that pressure. If you're prepared to have hundreds of thousands of people rely on your every decision, their very lives hanging in the balance should you not play your cards right. I want to know if you're capable of leading an army into battle. If you can control the nobility so they don't walk all over you.

"I really don't think—," Lu Ten started to interrupt, but Ozai cut him off.

"I want to know… if you can your first five years…" Ozai stared at him. "Your own father didn't even last three years. Do you really think that you have what it takes?"

Lu Ten had to break his gaze, or the intensity of his Uncle's eyes would consume him and he would break down crying. But he couldn't.

"No, I don't think that I do, Uncle." And Lu Ten made the mistake of looking into his Uncle's eyes.

But there was no malevolence in Uncle Ozai's eyes. Actually, there may have been genuine concern there. Or, at least, Lu Ten hoped older man smiled at him, patting his shoulder much like his father used to.

"Then let me help you, my dear nephew." Lu Ten's shocked look said it all, but Ozai continued. "For you know, I do care about you, whatever you may think."

But that was the problem. Lu Ten didn't know what to think anymore.

"Okay Uncle. Help me." He turned back into the fire.

And he didn't see the wolfish grin form and cover Ozai's features. But there was a knock on the door, delicate and demure, and Song pushed her way into the room, stopping just inside. He turned to her, feeling somewhat relieved that his Uncle tore his gaze away from him to focus on her.

"Is there something the matter, Song?" Lu Ten asked.

She shook her head. "No, but we've all been summoned. By your mother." Her eyes flicked to Lu Ten's Uncle. "All of us."

Lu Ten couldn't help but feel relieved that his mother had things under control again. That she was taking care of her responsibilities. Of course, he felt immensely guilty because as the new Fire Lord, Lu Ten should have been taking care of all of the preparations for the coronation and his father's funeral…but Lu Ten didn't want to. He didn't want the responsibility.

Well, it's too late to avoid it now.

The young Fire Lord stood and turned to his uncle. "We'd best be going, then." Lu Ten held out his hand for his Uncle to shake.

The older man grasped it and held it tightly, staring into his nephew's eyes. Lu Ten felt some sort of dread, a kind of eerie feeling creeping down his spine, but he ignored it. He was just nervous about the impending coronation. That was all.

Ozai motioned for Lu Ten and Song to leave first, but when Lu Ten turned to go, his Uncle murmured something into his ear. "I find it difficult to believe that a Fire Lord still allows his mother to summon him as though he were a small child. What kind of Fire Lord allows for that?"

Lu Ten didn't turn to his Uncle, though the unspoken response blasted its way into his head.

The kind of Fire Lord I am.