The party had long ended and everyone had retired for the evening. After meeting his father in the throne room, he headed straight for Azula's room, slamming the door open angrily. "Why'd you do it?"
"You're going to have to be a little more specific." She whispered as she opened her eyes.
"Why did you tell father that I was the one who killed the Avatar?"
The princess sat up from her bed slowly. "Can't this wait until morning?"
"It. Can't."
She sighed, clearly annoyed by the disturbance. "Fine. You seem so worried about how father would treat you because you hadn't captured the Avatar. I figured if I gave you the credit, you'd have nothing to worry about."
Zuko was unnerved. This wasn't like Azula. "But why?"
"Call it a... generous gesture. I wanted to thank you for your help, and I was happy to share the glory."
The prince clenched his fist. "You're lying."
She chuckled and rolled her eyes. "If you say so."
"You have another motive. I just haven't figured out what it is."
Over the years, her brother had grown cynic, but he was still a tad bit naive, especially without her fuddy-duddy uncle. "Please, Zuko. What ulterior motive could I have? What could I possibly gain by letting you get all the glory for defeating the Avatar?" She approached him and leaned in to whisper in his ear. "Unless somehow, the Avatar was actually alive." She smirked as he tensed at the thought. She moved past him and got back up on the bed. "All that glory would suddenly turn to shame and foolishness."
Zuko's eyes widened as he finally realized his sister's motive. By letting him take all the credit, and if indeed the Avatar had survived, he would be the fool in front of their father. He will take the fall, and Azula will be unscathed.
"But you said it yourself, that was impossible." She gave him one last smirk as he turned around to leave. "Sleep well, Zuzu..."
He found it difficult to sleep that night. Several thoughts plagued him and he tossed and turned in the soft expanse of his bed, which he curiously found uncomfortable.
He needed advice.
The prince got up from bed, took a cloak from his wardrobe and headed out. He pulled the hood over his head and silently went past the guards of the palace. After a long trek, he finally reached the threshold of the Capital City Prison.
"Would uncle still see me after I had betrayed him? Could he still look at me and give me advice as he did before?"
"Who's there?!" A night guard had spotted him.
He paid him no heed and moved forward, entering the prison and heading straight for the last isolated cell where his uncle was.
"You! Stop where you are!" The guard aimed at him with his spear. The prince lifted his head and the guard saw the scar. He immediately stepped back and relaxed the hand holding the weapon. "P-Prince Zuko—"
He grabbed the guard by the collar and slammed him against the stone walls. "I'm going in for a visit. You're gonna stand guard here. And no one is going to know about this." Satisfied that the guard wasn't going to blab, he released his hold and continued forward to his uncle's cell.
He found him sitting on the stone floor with his eyes closed. His clothes tattered and dirty, his hair and beard unkempt. "Uncle," He pulled back the hood. "It's me."
Iroh turned away from him, facing the walls of his cell.
The action brought out his short-temper once again. "You brought this on yourself, you know! We could've returned together! You could've been a hero!"
The old man made no move to respond.
"You have no right to judge me, uncle! I did what I had to do in Ba Sing Se, and you're a fool for not joining me!"
Still no response.
This only angered him further. "You're not gonna say anything?!" He kicked a stool into the air and punched it hard, flames engulfing it and reducing it to ashes. "You're a crazy old man! You're crazy! And if you weren't in jail, you'd be sleeping in a gutter!"
The prince stormed off, his mind not the least bit alleviated. He was so consumed with anger, partly by his uncle, but mostly because of himself.
Iroh closed his eyes and willed himself not to turn around.
On her second morning in the Fire Nation, she was woken up before the sun had even risen. She opened her eyes to see the Lady Suiren as well as the head of her guards, Shang. "Chiyo, dear, it's time to resume your training." The young woman nodded and followed them to the closed quarters of the training room.
She touched the thin paper walls painted with tall groves of bamboo and fallen blossoms from a large cherry blossom tree. A smile made its way to her lips as she suddenly remembered the days she spent in this very room, the smell of fragrant incense, the polished wooden floor, Suiren watching and coaching her as she danced...
"I remember this place..." She looked up at her mentor. "It's one of my favourites..."
Suiren smiled and nodded. "Yes. We would come here every day and practice, just as we shall do now."
As Chiyo's fingers traced the walls, she noticed a hole in the canvas of the wall. The edges were burnt and it was small enough to allow her to peek through it. She wondered what or who could've caused this hole.
"Shall we start, my Lady?" Shang approached her and she agreed.
"Stretch first," Suiren reprimanded them. "Always stretch first."
The apprentice laughed and did as she was told. "Arms up... stretch... flick wrist... then reach..." True enough, her body remembered. "Bring them down slowly, and touch the ground."
Her mentor sat down and watched her with a small smile. After they had stretched for half an hour, Shang handed the apprentice with an iron sword. "Years ago, you bested me at fighting despite using only aluminium sword. Let's see how you do with iron. No chi-blocking, my Lady." He added the last part quickly as he remembered the extent of her skills.
The sword was heavier than she had anticipated. She let her hands get used to the feel of the sword and its weight. She manipulated her wrist in a circle and made the sword spin at her side. Taking a familiar fighting stance, she turned to face Shang.
"Bring it on."
"I brought you some komodo-chicken..." Zuko slid a small basket of food through the bars of the cell. It took him two days before he had calmed down and attempted to visit his uncle once again. This time, he was determined to get help. "I know you don't care for it, but I figure it beats prison food."
Same as before, he could only see the back of his uncle in the darkness of the isolated cell. "I admit it. I have everything I always wanted. But it's not how I thought it would be. The truth is... I need your advice."
He clutched the bars of the cell and whispered in a low voice. "I think the Avatar is still alive. I know he's out there. I'm losing my mind!"
All he could hear was silence from the other end of the cell. "Please, uncle! I'm so confused! I need your help!"
Still no response.
"Forget it! I'll solve this myself! Waste away in here for all I care!" He shouted as he stood up and left.
Iroh couldn't help the tears that fell endlessly for his nephew.
"Do you bear me ill will, Suiren?" The Fire Lord asked as he got up from their shared bed and donned on his robe.
"What do you think?"
Ozai sighed and turned to face his beautiful lover. "My decision is final. Your apprentice shall be my new queen upon the arrival of Sozin's comet."
Suiren gripped the sheets close to her body. She had resorted to everything to change his mind, all to no avail. "My Lord, I can take her place. I can be the faithful, silent queen you need me to be."
He grew tired of her relentless attempts to save her ward. He knew she didn't want power. He knew she wanted him to stay away from Chiyo.
And that only made him want the young woman more.
"You cannot bear me an heir. If only you could, then maybe I would reconsider." He smirked as he leaned over and caressed her cheek. "Too bad, you are barren, and there is nothing we can do about it."
She seethed with anger, but bit her tongue back to keep from retorting. If she angers the Fire Lord now who knows what he can do.
"If only you knew how much I want to slit your throat and watch you bleed. Just you wait, Ozai. I shall avenge the years you have deprived me of my husband and child. I will laugh as I watch you die, helpless. And my young ward and I will finally be free."
"You sure you weren't followed?"
The man made no response to the prince.
"I've heard about you. They say you're good at what you do. And even better at keeping secrets."
He stood there unblinking, unfazed in the presence of royalty.
"The Avatar's alive. I want you to find him, and end him."
Warden Poon entered Iroh's isolated cell carrying half a ration of food. He looked on in disgust at the former general that he used to look up to. "You used to be the pride of the Fire Nation. Our top general, the Dragon of the West! Now look at you!" He sneered and dropped the tray on the floor.
Iroh scrambled on the floor and reached out for the bread the size of his palm, eagerly taking a bite. The warden saw his unfocused eyes and his thoughts were confirmed.
The prisoner had lost sense and sanity.
He spat on the ground and left the cell, slamming the door closed.
He listened as the footsteps faded away and stood up, peeling away the layers he had stuffed onto his clothes to retain his former physique. He reached for the top bars of the cell and pulled his weight up with one hand, all the while eating the small ration of bread he was given.
It had been decades since he had trained this hard, and he wasn't getting any younger. But if he was going to free himself from this prison, he would have to pull all the stops, even if it meant acting senile to cover his plans.