Chapter 19

The Dragon Queen's eyes were cold, and her teeth-

Akira scowled in concentration. And her teeth were what? The tiny character swam before his eyes, mysterious and mocking. He recognized the three dots on the left side of the character that meant 'water,' but that was hardly helpful. Her teeth were wet? They were made of water?

In a fit of temper, Akira threw the children's book across the room, where it hit the wall and fell with a dull, depressing thunk. It was ridiculous and galling that he had to learn how to read like a five-year-old did. And beyond absurd that the first few words he had been taught included 'dragon' and 'queen.' Classic Fire Nation royalty, forcing kings and queens into the minds and books of young children.

Akira sighed and slumped in his chair, rubbing his temples. He knew it would be hard to learn to read at this point in his life, but he didn't expect it be this excruciating. Wearily, he got up to go retrieve the book. If he ever wanted to lead people or make a change, he'd have to be able to read.

Someone knocked.

"Enter!" yelled Akira, hurriedly tossing the book back on the table. On second thought, he covered it with a notebook; no one needed to know he was reading children's stories.
An elderly, somewhat pudgy man entered the room, dressed in green robes. His hair was a long and shabby grey, but his eyes were a bright Fire Nation gold. Akira thought vaguely that he should know him, but couldn't put his finger on why.

"Akira," said the man. "My name is Iroh. I'm your uncle."

Oh. Akira remembered Zuko mentioning his uncle who lived in Ba Sing Se, the one who had given up the throne. And if Iroh was introducing himself as Akira's uncle, that meant Zuko must have told him about Akira's parentage. Irrationally, Akira felt warmed by the fact that Zuko wasn't keeping their relationship completely secret. Although it was also possible Zuko had confided in Iroh because he viewed Akira as a threat. Maybe Iroh was here to try and intimidate or test him.

"And I'm Akira," he replied, setting his chin. Let the old man try to kick him out; he'd faced worse.

But Iroh merely bowed. "I am pleased to meet you, Akira. May I sit?" He smiled broadly.

"Please," said Akira, a bit confused. He gestured to the chairs around his study table.

"First, I want to apologize for how my brother Ozai treated you and your mother," said Iroh, settling into a chair. "No one deserves to be banished through no fault of their own."
"I—thank you," said Akira. What was Iroh's game?

"I would have helped if I could," sighed Iroh. "But that's in the past. Now, I'm glad you've found your family again."

Found his family? Zuko's harsh words floated back to Akira: 'Just because I acknowledge you in private does not mean I will do so in public. Not until you've proved yourself.'

Zuko paid for his tutors and even entrusted him with part of the Soldiers & Relocation project, but Akira still remembered how Zuko's face had closed off when Akira first met Kazuto. His brother had looked nervous, almost afraid, and had dodged Akira's questions about the boy. Was that just because Zuko was ashamed to admit he had a bastard? Or because Zuko didn't trust Akira around his son?

"I'm glad to have found my family as well," said Akira evenly.

"How are you adjusting to life here?" asked Iroh gently. There was something gravelly yet curiously warm and comforting about his voice. "It must be different from what you're used to."

"It is different," confessed Akira. "All my life, I've lived as a commoner. I grew up in a thatched-roof hut, and now I'm in a palace. But I'll never forget where I came from. Never." He would never forget what life was like when you were the lowest of the low. He didn't really know why he was telling Iroh this, but his uncle was still listening intently.

"Your experience gives you a perspective that few in this palace have," Iroh reassured him. "You shouldn't want to forget your background—it makes you who you are. And now you're working for Zuko, you can use your experience to advise him."

"I told Zuko I wanted to change things for the better," said Akira. That's the whole reason he was here.

"Good," said Iroh. He hesitated. "Many in your shoes would choose the path of bitterness," he said quietly. "I am glad you have not."
It wasn't like bitterness would change anything. Only determination and focus would. And besides, even if he was angry, it wasn't primarily Zuko he was angry at.

"Zuko isn't at fault for what our father did," Akira said. It was true, and it was probably what Iroh wanted to hear. "I don't resent him."

"Do you resent Ozai?" asked Iroh. He leaned forward slightly in his chair. Akira didn't see the point in lying.

"Yes," he said flatly. "Because of him, my mother suffered and died." She had loved Prince Ozai, and how was she repaid? With a bastard in her belly, shame and exile, and a brutal life just trying to make enough to feed her family. Akira was surprised to feel a hot pricking in his eyes, and he blinked to clear them.

"That's understandable," replied Iroh. "But I'll tell you what I just told Zuko an hour ago. Hatred only hurts you, not the person who harmed you."

Akira scowled. What kind of nonsense was that?

Iroh noticed the corner of The Dragon Queen poking out from under Akira's notebook.

"Ah! The Dragon Queen!" Iroh beamed. He pulled the book out and smiled at the illustration of the blue half-dragon half-woman on the cover. "Zuko told me you were learning to read, but I'm impressed that you're tackling books like this already!"

Akira flushed, but Iroh looked genuinely impressed.

"I want to learn as fast as possible," said Akira. Indeed, he had spent almost eight hours a day for the past week studying. For the first time, it occurred to him that he was actually making good progress. "I have to catch up."

Iroh flipped to the front page, and his face froze. Akira peered over his shoulder, but only recognized the part of the character meaning 'hand' in the last character.

"This was Azula's book," said Iroh quietly, still staring at the handwritten phrase. "I'm surprised Zuko lent it to you. He's very protective of her."

Akira guiltily recalled chucking the book at the wall a few minutes earlier. "Can you show me her name?" he asked Iroh. No use in pretending he could read more than he could.

"It's here," said Iroh, pointing to the last three characters. "A-zu-la."

"And the rest of the writing?" asked Akira.

"Why don't you try?" asked Iroh. Akira felt a flash of irritation. Who was Iroh to test him? But when he scowled down at the first line, he found he actually recognized most of the characters.

"This book is the…something—"

"Property," nodded Iroh.

"This book is the property of Queen Azula, age 6." Akira laughed incredulously. "Seriously?" What a superiority complex!

"Even at an early age, Azula was very…ambitious," said Iroh sadly. "But it wasn't entirely her fault. Ozai pushed her hard; she always had to be perfect in order to please him.

And he deliberately set Azula and Zuko against each other."

"You said Zuko was protective of her. But hasn't she tried to kill Zuko multiple times?" asked Akira.

"She has. Yet Zuko still cares about her." Iroh sighed. "It's complicated. But I would rather him have compassion on her than hate her, especially now that her mental state is…unstable."

"So where is Azula now? In some sort of mental institution?" Zuko had only said Azula was alive. And apart from his morbid curiosity, Akira knew this information could be critical.

"You should ask Zuko about that," replied Iroh carefully. "If he wants to tell you more about her, he will." He sighed again, more heavily. "You've entered a very convoluted family, Akira. But I hope that with you and Kazuto joining, and Zuko and Mai getting married, you all will be able to make a fresh start."

"I hope so too," said Akira. A silence descended, but not an unfriendly one.

Finally, Iroh rose to his feet. "It's late for an old man like me, and I need to rest," said Iroh. He put his hand on Akira's shoulder. "I hope that in time we can become friends. I know Zuko already considers you one."

And then Iroh left, leaving Akira's head swirling with mad sisters and uncles and brothers and queens.