(a/n: sorry, bit more adult perspective I needed to write)

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Sometimes, when you're stuck in a corner, with no idea where to go, it helps to retrace your steps and see the exact moment where you went wrong. When the reality of that is laid bare, new paths and possibilities can open for you.

As it turned out, this lesson applies even when one has committed crimes of the highest caliber.

And, no matter how highly the Fire Lord spoke of him, Iroh couldn't see the future. The worst thing about hindsight is seeing how all of your mistakes could have been avoided, which were all too apparent to Iroh now, lying in a foreign land with a broken leg and spears ready to strike at his throat. And even he couldn't guess how his country was so easily shaken to the roots in the span of a few short years.

Even though no one saw the full signs at first, the moment things first changed was when Prince Ozai took the foreign woman under his guard, and would later make her his wife.

Their first blow was learning that Ozai's original fiancee was lost to the seas, her envoy sunk into the choppiest tides. Fire Lord Azulon had sent consolations to the family, but as little more than a formality for their loss. The bloodline he hoped to claim lost for good. But with Lady Ursa gone without a trace, someone else entered Ozai's sight at just the right (or perhaps the wrong) time. Ozai was cagey and as quiet as he could be about the woman's presence in his company, but the youngest son of the Fire Lord was not a master of subterfuge, and Crown Prince Iroh had sources of his own within the palace. Most notably, from his own father. And though Iroh did not feel the same layer of disgust as the Fire Lord did about the sudden arrangement, he was truly was appalled at his brother's impetuous decisions. Ozai was so difficult and prickly that even Iroh hadn't expected for him to be so charmed by a pretty, exotic face. Let alone a foreigner who, if the rumors were true, was actually a commoner.

Regardless, he heard about all of this while camped many weeks away from home on Earth Kingdom soil, just after leaving a war council that dragged late into the evening. He was exhausted, mind and body, when receiving that letter from home, and didn't feel any better afterwards either. So Iroh could not know what was it about this foreign woman that drew in his younger brother, only that he was sure it was going to cause trouble somewhere down the line.

By the time Iroh finally took a military leave to return home, Ozai was married to that same woman, and currently with a child of his own. He was happy at least to have had that information leaked to him beforehand; it would have been a shock otherwise.

Despite the identity of the Prince's new wife–a lady named Kya, who by all accounts, was strikingly beautiful and hard-working–having already been exposed, Ozai was still wary of Iroh interacting with her. She was elusive, never seeming to be anywhere where Iroh was, and the maids attending to the lady were surprisingly defensive to being questioned about her. That still didn't stop Iroh from getting a hold of the sketches used to commemorate their wedding and discovering that yes, she did live up to expectations. But other information, like how she arrived in the capital and her actual point of origin was buried deep.

Eventually, Iroh decided to leave it alone. He was patient, and knew that sooner or later Kya would show herself. They couldn't occupy the same space for long and not cross paths.

However, it was around that time that Ozai got the idea that he needed a vacation and spirited his family away to Ember Island. Iroh wasn't fooled; he knew the man's sudden departure had to do with himself. (It wasn't like Ozai was doing any real work that would have justified such a trip in the first place, let alone one so rushed.) But his avoidance was no more than just a delaying tactic. Iroh wouldn't be forgetting about his situation any time soon.

But Crown Prince Iroh had more important things to worry about at the moment than his brother's myriad of issues. More specifically, he had a son to visit.

Lu Ten was Iroh's one and only child, and also the only thing he had left of Zhulan since her passing almost a decade ago. She had adored his tenacity most of all and had always wanted the boy to succeed, even if it meant leaving her in the dust. Iroh only wished that that desire hadn't turned out to be so literal for her. But where Zhulan had been sharp in mind (the quality that–more than even her beauty–pushed Iroh into making her his wife), she was frail in constitution. He had been so lost in bliss that her irreversible illness that surfaced a year after pregnancy caught them completely by surprise. She faded away slowly after that.

At least he still had Lu Ten, his wife's legacy. The teenager was already shooting up in height, surpassing his father so quickly. With that, and his consistently high marks in both education and firebending training, Iroh already had high hopes for Lu Ten's further success. So when the seventeen-year old requested to join him abroad, Iroh agreed (an action that he would regret later). When the Crown Prince submitted his findings and recommendations to his father, Azulon agreed to allow Lu Ten to be deployed under his son's authority, bidding the youth to be cautious and listen to his father's directions and experience.

He started the young man out small, with easily handled outposts and lower-tier command jobs to test his effectiveness at leading. When a temporary position was secured for him, Iroh took a trip back home the moment he got another concerning letter: Ozai had another child.

The younger man was moving so fast. Barely a year after his son's birth was shockingly fast.

Iroh made his judgement known in his own way, tailing the couple's activity, sending gifts congratulating them on the happy experience. To anyone else's eyes, it would have looked entirely innocent (as was the intent), but Ozai–knowing him for so long–would be all too aware that he disapproved of his actions. It was a foray in the library that let him see Kya for the first time. She seemed discomforted to see him, strikingly blue eyes darkened with her wary frown. A native-born Fire Nation citizen might never recognize just where her foreign traits hailed from, to the more wordly General's discerning eyes, she bled Water Tribe from head to toe.

But for all that he saw, Iroh didn't know to see Kya as what she really was: a threat.

Iroh didn't know then that the next time he left the capital, he wouldn't be returning.

Iroh's following tour of duty was a long one, and he knew that it might be several years at least before he returned for a true holiday home. He took a few days to prepare, using the time to pick up an extra regiment from his father's reserve in the meantime. Speaking of family, Iroh saw his niece and nephew only a few times during his stay in the capital, but only briefly. Usually being ferried from one location or another by a dutiful guard, with wide golden eyes following his unfamiliar form curiously. Apparently, their mother's wariness kept them well sequestered. But still, the image of Fire Nation gold contrasting with Water Tribe features was a unusual sight that was impossible to miss. They'd be a curiosity when finally stepping into the public light.

On the day that Iroh departed once again, there was a mixed set of farewells, as was usually the case with the royal family. Father's reinforcements were a welcome addition, though with their success so far, maybe not totally necessary. Lady Kya watched his departure from a window above instead of just avoiding the event entirely; Iroh gave her a small wave of acknowledgement which caused her to quickly duck out of sight. Ozai just snidely told him to "try not to die," which is about what Iroh expected if not a dose of the cold shoulder. His younger brother never really got over Iroh's position in the war.

But it's been a long time since he concerned himself with Ozai's jealous spats.

Once he had left the capital, all such small concerns ceased to matter. During the long ship ride, the man had plans in motion that would change the course of the war, something that he had been planning for a long time. The Fire Nation has boasted a massive, efficient army and has had decades of experience in warfare, but there were some challenges that even they struggled to surmount. Such was the case of the now infamous siege of the capital of Ba Sing Se. For many years, the Fire Nation had thrown assault after assault at the indomitable walls of the Earth Kingdom's capital and not once had they managed to breach its fortifications.

But Iroh knew that he was different. Because in youth he had been given a vision that saw himself victorious over that walled fortress. It was a sign, and the will of Agni that his destiny lay with finally overcoming the Earth Kingdom's greatest bastion. And by the will of the Fire Lord and his own, Iroh would see that dream fulfilled and the war brought to an end.

Which was why, upon arriving back in the front, he started a massive campaign of assaults across the Earth Kingdom, capturing territories left and right. He would use those to establish new bases for himself from which the army would use to lay a total siege to the capital.

And, with patience and careful planning, Ba Sing Se would fall.

It was a truly momentous venture, a military campaign that hadn't been undertaken in a very long time. In fact, the army hadn't made a serious effort to take the walled city in so long precisely because they knew how difficult and dangerous such a gambit would be. But Azulon gave support to his venture, and sent additional commanders to help move the war front along. The Earth Kingdom quickly noticed the new direction of the invasion effort, too late. General Iroh broke through their blockades one after the other, getting closer to Ba Sing Se with every passing battle and each month the goal was closer in sight. Sometime during the enclosure of their supply lines, Lu Ten's detachment was absorbed into Iroh's forces, so that father and son could fight side by side, the General coaching the young man to become stronger than ever.

Eventually however, the net was completed, his forces camped just far away enough from the wall to be out of range of any earthbender's boulder barrage. It was there that he set up his command center where he would stay for the foreseeable future, complete with a perfectly sized writing desk for composing letters to the other commanders he needed to manage. Or for writing back home to sent updates on his progress of course.

Iroh's correspondence to his father was mainly filled with military updates, advice, strategy, or some combination of the three. He received a notice or two for a requisitioned weapon cache every so often. And of course, nothing from Ozai. His brother hadn't done that in ages.

Feeling charitable, Iroh decided to send a few letters to his brother's family as well. He knew that the turbulent mood among the family meant he might not receive a reply, but he still went through with it anyway. In war, many commanders sent home tokens of their victory along with the letters. Lady Kya was likely set against him, so there wasn't much point in trying to win her favor that way. But for the children, Iroh procured two items taken from captured territories for them, to look back on fondly when this was all over.

The siege began in earnest.

For days, weeks, months, the encampments stood. General Iroh and the invasion force weathered the full defense of the best of the Earth Kingdom's benders. For a long, arduous fight they built ladders that were later torn down, blasted the rock wall with fire and handmade explosives only to watch the earthbenders repair the damage inflicted when the invaders exhausted themselves enough to be driven back. It was a tug-of-war of power shifting and changing as constantly as the embers of a flame.

But little by little, the Fire Nation was making headway, aided by their superior supply line and the explosive potential harnessed in Iroh's deadly lightning. After each assault, the repairs were less organized and more specialized earthbenders were killed by precision shots.

The days blurred together under all that time, until the siege had stretched long into the lives of everyone involved, two hundred days of it with soldiers working in shifts so that they could fight all day and all night.

And on the day of the summer solstice, everything changed.

Iroh launched his largest assault of the entire war, one that had been ages in planning, and that he would remember forever. That day he overwhelmed the soldiers at the wall and, with the strongest lightning strokes he had ever conjured, cracked the shell of Ba Sing Se.

The great wall had been broken.

But General Iroh's victory was brief and bittersweet.

The Dai Li, emboldened by the Earth Kingdom's desperation, brought their strongest benders to bear. With the strongest of the Fire Nation reveling in their victory, the most elite earthbenders struck a deadly blow not even conceived of before. Dai Li benders worked together to destabilize and collapse a section of the wall of their own volition, burying part of the Fire Nation army under hundreds of tons of rock and earth. The deep, shattering crash shook the battlefield to its core, and brought the attention of the entire army, the rumble akin to a natural quake. Up to this point, none of the Earth Kingdom defenders had once used the wall itself as a weapon, and due to that, the attack caught the invasion front completely by surprise. And even if they could have seen it coming, firebenders' flames helped little against the tide of earth that fell upon them, crushed to death by an end none of them could have fought against.

And among those lost to that gambit, was Iroh's own son.

The moment the General saw the wall collapse in the distance, saw it bury Lu Ten's own regiment, Iroh was frozen with shock. He was out of his head, a dull ringing aching in his ears over and over again as the earth settled. An aide was shaking him, trying to bring him back to the present, but all the man could think about was the disaster that had just unfolded for him then. "Lu Ten…" He murmured, the man's normally brilliant mind running at a fraction of its usual speed as he struggled to process his loss and what to do in response.

In that moment, Iroh's destiny was balanced on a razor's edge as his psyche battled over which emotion ruled him the strongest. If the Crown Prince had fallen to anger and vengeance when he lost his son, Ba Sing Se would have fallen that day. Every Dai Li would have burned and the Earth Kingdom would have known the the true terror the Fire Nation's Dragon could provide.

But despair was the stronger force, and that was what saved the Earth Kingdom's people.

Iroh called a full retreat, drawing the bulk of his forces back away from city border. It was against the wishes of many commanders who saw the open barrier as a chance to take the fight to the city's interior. Iroh ignored them. He couldn't fight any more. He wasn't even able to recover Lu Ten's body, if he even could recognize him. The Ba Sing Se invasion force was disbanded, and the support regiments sent by the Fire Lord were ordered to return home. It was too late, by the time someone else could attempt a second siege and have another force organized for it, the wall would already be repaired. Many of them were furious, and claimed that the Crown Prince was acting irrational, but they never amounted to much. Iroh wasn't paying attention to their opinions anymore. He was so far away that he couldn't do that even if he wanted to.

Only a small, loyal contingent was still at the man's side after he dismissed everyone else, and with them, he traveled to a Fire Nation shrine. There he sought direction and closure from the spirits, hopefully to learn to come to terms with his loss. There he remained in meditation, longer than he ever had before, intending to stay until he found an answer.

But to his shock, Iroh earned himself a real, verbal answer from the spirit world, and it was one rife with anger. He had passed over the veil, not even intentionally.

'You dare come to us now, after your illustrious history?' Voices berated him, sinking into Iroh's soul like claws, tearing at him. Among them he spied–just for a moment–figures that may have been benders from ages past, forms blurring like mist. 'You lost your son, Prince. But how many sons have you taken? How many parents suffer the pain you feel? How many lost due to your involvement?' The spirits did not lie; it was an objective truth that Iroh felt in every fiber of his being, pounded into his mind like a hammer's blow. He wasn't a soldier following orders, never was, but a leader of men whose authority was unmatched by all but his own father. He was the one who picked out the most vulnerable of settlements to strike and put those plans into motion.

Through the point of view of an unseen observer, Iroh saw himself in his mind's eye. His accomplishments, battles, the milestones of his life. And it was clear what the focus of the spirits was, and through the shock and loss that lingered on him, the man was easily shaken. He didn't know how long he was forced to watch. Time seemed to be standing still.

'Ba Sing Se and its people never belonged to you. The dragons were wrong about you. You have been arrogant, and you have disappointed us.' The air was cold with their words.

"…What…what must I do…" The man breathed, the force of their emotion crushing his already fragile mental state.

'We are not expecting anything more. However…' For a moment the air had ceased shifting, as if the spirits were contemplating, before resuming once more. 'As long as your existence remains unbalanced by the taint of your mistakes, the spirits will have no aid for you and you will be doomed to reflect on them forever. And when the time comes for your life to end, the gates of the spirit world will remain forever closed to you, and with them, your son.' Iroh drew in a pained breath at those words, already missing Lu Ten too much for words. 'General Iroh will not be welcome among us. Unbecome that man. Meditate on that, if you can.'

With that, the man was truly awake and conscious again, breathing hard after his first real dip in the Spirit Realm. But he was considering their words deeply and the effect they had on him.

Iroh didn't return home.

With every night that he meditated on his past and the newfound perspective the spirits had imparted on him, he felt more shame and sadness for it all. And regret for setting Lu Ten down a path would lead to his death. If only Iroh hadn't brought him to the siege. If only he could have helped him. And the Crown Prince could not show himself in the capital, knowing full well that the Fire Lord's approval for him and his actions would not mend the pain he felt.

So he requisitioned for himself and a skeleton crew a small ship of his own, intending to travel the world to gain a deeper understanding of himself and his place in the world. Iroh was numb to the desires of his remaining family, but it threw everything else into sharp focus. He spent some time like that, trying to re-identify himself. Seeing the people he fought without his nation's lense.

But Iroh was not destined to have a peaceful departure from the military.

That was the realization he came to when his ship was raided in the dead of night, his dogged and loyal crew overwhelmed before they even knew they were under attack. Iroh woke at the first crash, fighting off the invaders to the best of his ability, but his firebending had dulled since that fateful day at Ba Sing Se and his spiritual encounter. He couldn't stop them from getting to the engine room and sabotaging the ship, hands full trying to save what remained of his men.

It was only luck that Iroh made it to an escape raft before his ship was destroyed by the bombs they planted, splitting apart in a rain of metal and flame.

Iroh was injured in the destruction, suffering minor burns and a broken leg from the explosion's shockwave, and the one soldier he managed to take with him expired from his wounds. Iroh was alone. The only break he got was the enemy–thinking him dead with the rest of his crew–did not come back to finish the job. Exhaustion took him then. He didn't remember much of the days that followed, up until his life-raft washed up on Southern Water Tribe shores.

And that was where he was at that moment, laid up in a rough cot with a wrapped leg and armed-to-the-teeth warriors watching him suspiciously.

He didn't try to make trouble. Merely rested there quietly as his mind pondered on the explosion that lost him his ship, and who could have been responsible for it. The damage his body had sustained, and the cold felt through the tent walls sapped his strength. There was more than a good chance that he wouldn't have been able bend his way out even if he wanted to. Iroh felt a deep, aching pain from his injuries, but either the Water Tribe had no pain reliever on hand, or had no inclination to spare what they had for a Fire Nation prisoner. But even if Iroh had been fit and healthy, the man no longer had any desire to fight. He was just so tired, not just physically.

But he wasn't left alone forever. Eventually, the tent flap was pulled back for a different man to enter. He was somewhat more decorated than the guards Iroh had seen so far; Iroh assumed him to be higher rank than the others, possibly the Chief himself. Iroh waited for him to speak.

"Out of all the things that could have shown up on my doorstep, I didn't expect to come across the Prince of the Fire Nation," The man started, his voice surprisingly calm.

Iroh didn't see any point in playing ignorant, the man didn't seem to be baiting. "You recognize me, I see. Sir…."

"It's Hakoda; I'm the Chief of this settlement." Well that effectively confirmed Iroh's suspicions, though the man still seemed very disciplined for his age. "I know someone who recognized your face and pointed it out for me. You're hardly a mystery outside of the Water Tribe, General Iroh," The man said, leaning against one of the tent's support beams. Despite his casual actions, his expression was cautious and one hand rested close to the machete sheathed on his hip. "And now that you've end up here, I can't in good conscience let you leave, even if I wanted to."

"Am I to be executed then?" Iroh asked thoughtfully, deciding to get to the point.

"That's not how we do things," Hakoda denied, "The Southern Tribe doesn't make a habit of executing people off the field of battle. That's more a question that should be taken up with the Earth Kingdom. And considering the circumstances, exile isn't an option I'd consider for you."

Iroh rubbed at his bandages gently, thinking over his situation. The Water Tribe Chief had a set of morals that prevented him from just killing Iroh outright, even if he never specified not wanting to. But then, the Chief seemed like a intelligent man even so far; who knew what he really preferred to happen. Iroh couldn't know. The Crown Prince had heard a tale or two of Water Tribesmen who were shamed into leaving the safety of their village walls and wandering the ice plains out of penance, but Hakoda was too careful to let him go free even like that. And, judging by the undercurrent of his frustration, foisting Iroh off on the Earth Kingdom to be tried by them was either too inconvenient or too risky of a task to embark on. Which left one clear answer….

"Then, I'm going to be a prisoner here," Iroh said, which was confirmed by the Chief's nod.

"Until I can find a more permanent solution, yes. We have no reason to trust you."

"No…you really don't," Iroh agreed regretfully. The man left soon after that, leaving the fallen Prince to ruminate on what he had gotten trapped in. After how thoroughly his life and expectations had been destroyed, Iroh had no interest in trying to rebel against the Chief's decree. The one and only desire that he held close was finding a way to live up to the spirits' advice and–in the end–seeing Lu Ten again. Beyond the veil. And fighting against these people–who had the courtesy to bandage his wounds when they could have easily (and justifiably) left him to die–would not be any way to accomplish that.

But the day that Iroh finally managed to realize a portion of the energy he had lost was the day he first met the Chief's children.

He was asleep when they first arrived, disturbed by the sounds of whispering and the rustling of cloth nearby. Iroh cracked open eye to see two young kids had snuck into the tent space, crouched over and talking to each other in hushed voices as they searched through the belongings that had been salvaged from Iroh's liferaft. They were a young girl and a boy who looked to be a year or two older, and had to be less than ten years old. They were merely curious, searching through the Fire Nation remains more out of naivete than determination.

But what truly surprised him was, when the children's features became apparent and Iroh saw that in their faces, there was Fire Nation traits as well. It wasn't just the fair skin or the black hair, but the curve of the children's eyes. Especially in the girl. And from the similarities they shared, and the fact that half-blood children would be rare enough, Iroh assumed they were siblings.

Fascinated, the old General adjusted his position, sitting up from the cot. The pair immediately shot to attention the moment they noticed, the boy dropping a piece of cloth in his hands. "Hello there," The man managed, facing down the two blue-eyed stares, "find anything interesting?"

"You're the enemy, you don't get to ask questions," The girl told him sharply. Her willpower would be more impressive if her voice didn't have that child's tenor and if she weren't so small.

"I meant no offence," Iroh said cordially. He continued, subtly prodding to confirm his suspicions, "It must be surprising for you to meet someone from the Fire Nation for the first time."

"That's not true," The boy spoke up, as if by reflex, "Our mom is actually–"

His sister clapped a hand over his mouth before he could finish the sentence, "Shut up, dummy! That's none of his business!" The damage was already done however. Iroh's brow raised curiously, wondering how and why a Fire Nation woman would have ended up in the Southern Water Tribe, and how she ended up having children there. Nothing about the people around him suggested that they would imprison or harm someone who wasn't military. So why…. It was interesting to be sure, especially after what had happened back home with his brother's bride.

But while he was thinking, the little boy pushed his sibling's hand off of him and backed away. "I told you not to call me that! I'm gonna tell mom if you do it again!"

"You wouldn't dare," The girl shot back, chasing him out of the tent.

Iroh watched them leave, intrigued. He wasn't even too bothered by the waft of cold air that rushed into the tent with their sudden departure. He had wondered for a while if there was a reason he ended up being saved by the Water Tribe beyond mere coincidence. Because there was something about half-blood children in two opposite faraway lands that made him think that someone or something had actually guided him here. There was no way to be sure.

Still, even if it wasn't true, it was a comforting thought.

Sometime later in the day, he heard the sound of voices outside the tent. Sounded like a pair. The Chief from the other day and a woman's voice. "I don't see why it has to be you. You don't have to face this if it makes you uncomfortable…" That was Hakoda, worried it seemed like.

"No, I have to. We both know that man's going to find out on his own sooner or later, and I think I might have more luck talking to him," And that was the woman talking. Her accent was distinct and familiar. Familiar enough that brought Iroh's mind back to the kids he met earlier, and he sat up straighter, mind becoming more alert in preparation. "We're not getting anywhere otherwise. Unless you've reconsidered your Tribe's stance on what to do with him…"

A rough sigh of upset was heard. Then, "Honestly I would prefer that he didn't have to end up here at all. It's too dangerous for the kids, and the whole Tribe at that. From the General or whoever could find him here and cause unrest."

"I don't think we have to worry about a search party, Hakoda." Now, what could that mean? It sounded like they knew about the attack more than just washing up on shore, but it definitely wasn't the Water Tribe who attacked his ship. Disguised though they were, there were still details that Iroh remembered about them. He had a few suspects so far as to who it could have been, but the southerners were certainly not on the list. So how could they have found out who was or wasn't looking for him? The lady's voice continued, "Let me try, Hakoda. It'll be better than waiting around for who knows how long for something better to come along."

There was only silence in response, but the Chief's approval must have been nonverbal because a moment later both Hakoda and the woman both shouldered their way into the tent. Chief Hakoda stood aside and waited near the the door, so that his companion could take center stage, but Iroh did not miss the protective warning that was present in his gaze. The moment Iroh saw her, a bolt of recognition blew through his mind. Despite the thick russet coat topped with its fur collar that reached high enough to hide her neck, her origin was apparent. She was black-haired and fair-skinned, with warm amber eyes, so clearly Fire Nation that Iroh couldn't mistake. But, not only that, but the woman's face itself was recognizable to him. The man had seen it posted among the bulletins that were delivered to him while in the field, mentioning her disappearance that kickstarted the confusion in the capital. Lady Ursa.

He had only raised his brow in curiosity before the woman already began to speak, "I can tell that you've already recognized who I am, is that right, General?" Though they had never met, he could tell her voice was strong, noble. Clearly Ursa's time in the South had not softened her fire.

"I have in fact seen postings of your disappearance before, miss." Iroh inclined his head slightly, "However, all of the ones I've seen seem to agree that you died when pirates plundered and sunk your escort. Although, I suppose that means 'pirates' weren't responsible for what happened at all." The man glanced at Hakoda meaningfully, who stood his ground.

"That is correct. Hakoda spirited me away from an engagement I never chose. But even if you found me after all this time, I'm not going to return. I've made my own life here."

Iroh let her declaration settle into silence. Ursa was still unmistakably a noble in word and figure, but the homeland's values were at odds with the ones she held now. Even if he wanted to, Iroh didn't think he could convince her to return to the Fire Nation on her own will, besides… "By your own life, you mean the children, is that right?"

Ursa shot the Chief an alert look, and he actually looked embarrassed, shrugging his shoulders helplessly. "Sorry, they snuck into the tent early this morning. I gave them an earful, but…."

"Oh, it's…it's fine, I really should know better by now." Ursa straightened up, turning her attention back to Iroh, "Yes, to answer your question, those two are my children. Or rather, they're ours." The way the Chief adjusted his position, moving closer to her, left no moment of doubt as to her meaning. Theirs. Iroh was struck by the force of the situation. The descendant of the Avatar and the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe. And on the other hand, what happened back home. He was certain that his being there could not possibly be mere coincidence.

"And now that I know…."

"Yes, we can't let you leave. I only told you because I know the Fire Nation's most feared General would figure it out on his own, but no one else can know I'm here," Ursa said, voice severe. She didn't have to expand. Ursa's presence would threaten the people here if that knowledge was spread around, and the Fire Nation wouldn't be ignoring their existence anymore. Even hearsay could spread from the Earth Kingdom if the Chief reached out to them for help with dealing with Iroh. But in all honesty, Iroh wasn't too disappointed with this outcome.

He smiled wearily, trying to relax his aching leg. "I understand," He said, "You're just doing what you need to." Iroh knew that he wasn't going to go anywhere, at least for a time. He knew that the Chief would want to interrogate him and that he would have plenty of information to spare if he chose to give it. The Water Tribe had too many problems to be bothered with his scars.

All things considered, being their prisoner was better than the alternatives.

But the man wasn't finished yet. "Also, we have another reason for speaking with you. A scout of ours found this on a foray in the Earth Kingdom. I thought you'd find it interesting…" Chief Hakoda dug a crumpled scroll out of a parcel on his belt, unrolling the wrinkled parchment with a flourish, putting the announcement on full display. "Officially, Prince Iroh, you're dead."

His own death notice. Printed on a Fire Nation bulletin and stamped with the Fire Lord's own authorization, marking it as genuine. This was the reason why the Water Tribe already knew nobody would come looking for him. Iroh felt a dull ache deep in his chest. Even though he had distanced himself from the Fire Nation for his journey of self-reflection, being marked off like this was hurtful in its own way. It was still his country, after all.

And yet…the curious part was the timeline. Even after the time he spent drifting in his life-raft and convalescence in the Water Tribe, it seemed too quick for the Fire Lord to have already heard of and accepted his 'demise.' Unless of course the attack had come from someone in the Fire Nation in the first place.

And maybe someone he knew well had finally overstepped their bounds.

Hakoda left the notice with him that night to pour over. But despite that Iroh's mind was working full gear once again, he was calm. As it was, retirement may not yet be out of his reach.

.

The Chief's two young children on the other hand, were not so content with the situation.

They knew very little about the older man who had washed up on their home, besides the fact that he was apparently a Fire Nation commander of some renown.

So during the previous night, Azula came up with the idea of searching through his personal stuff to find something that could help their dad's fight against the Fire Nation. Her brother had not been totally on board with the idea; Zuko thought that their dad had things under control, or at least enough that they didn't need to sneak around within sight of the prisoner in question.

"You're such a buzzkill," Azula pouted.

As it turned out, once she decided to go through with it, Zuko's shared curiosity won out and he ended up tagging along anyway.

He considered himself justified in that opinion when the two of them were found out and later lectured by their father about sneaking into places that they shouldn't be. "I told you we'd get in trouble! I told you it was a bad idea." But he wasn't able to dissuade her anyway.

Azula, on the other hand, was utterly unrepentant. If anything, coming face to face with the Fire Nation military only made her more committed to becoming stronger and mastering her bending. Meeting the man felt tense, and that he was so calm in the face of being a prisoner made it even worse. She had to be taken seriously. Ever since she first discovered her gift, she was determined to become a master, and her dad was perfectly encouraging of that. He was playful and helpless against her declaration of becoming the strongest waterbender in the world.

What he was not so encouraging of though, was Azula's mentions of wanting to fight the Fire Nation with him. Hakoda had wished for his children to never have to fight in the war, but even at such a young age, she was expecting it. Living in the Southern Water Tribe killed certain pieces of innocence that other children would normally have.

Not only did she want to be the Best at her craft, but she also wanted to put real use to it.

It was why, the moment she was old enough to leave the village–under the condition that she was accompanied by her brother and within sight of the village gates (though it wasn't beyond her to push the limits as much as she thought she could get away with)–Azula took any opportunity she could. And she had a good reason for fixating on it too.

The little trips were centered around the kids' rough attempts at waterbending training more than anything, away from the circle of homes where they had more space. There was no doubt in her mind that they would need it in the future. And even though she prided herself on her abilities, Azula was aware that she didn't know the techniques, how to make them flow and move the way she wanted. There were so many things that they were missing to really improve.

And then there was Zuko.

He wasn't on her level. Everyone knew it even if they didn't want to say it out loud.

But that couldn't do.

Both of them needed to be at the top of their game when (not if) it was time for them to face the Fire Nation. It could only help their cause in the end. Azula was counting on it being a shock to their foes when two waterbenders were brought to the fore instead of just one. No matter how good she was, things like that had impact.

She started pushing him soon into those (rough, uncoordinated) sessions, hoping that Zuko could learn to follow her lead. They usually came complete with her showing off her own skills (such as they were) as an example. Most recently, Azula had caught the trick of unfreezing and re-freezing and was trying to pass that to Zuko, with mixed results.

She showed off here and there, her newly formed puddle of meltwater taunted him. Zuko grumbled about it instead of copying her, "You're gonna mess up eventually, 'Zula."

Azula just smiled at him in self-satisfaction, "I don't make mistakes, brother."

He definitely didn't like that answer, mumbling in annoyance, "Whatever." Suffice to say, she wouldn't be getting much of him that day either.

The problem was that where Azula saw a form of encouragement, Zuko saw an attack.

Her attempts to emulate father's lessons fell woefully flat, and in their stead, her mother's form of lecture didn't do much to appeal herself either. The two of them were operating on entirely different wavelengths. Then Zuko's temper would boil over and he would refuse to accompany her to training, which as a result meant that Azula wouldn't be allowed to go outside either. It didn't take long for her concern to shift to how best to trick him into participating.

It was a frustrating cycle. One that she tolerated despite it all.

There wasn't much else to do that was actually stimulating. (Or too…childish for what the girl's mind was focused on.) Azula tried to go spy on the Fire Nation man again by herself but it didn't take long for her father caught her and lectured her. He was understanding of her curiosity and the parent that she genuinely didn't want to upset, plus the guards were more alert after the first time, so she let it go for a while. That meant that training (or trying to) was really the only useful thing she could do at the time.

But that balance couldn't really be maintained forever.

Somehow it wasn't until Azula was nine that the conflict between them really came to a head. The worst fight of the siblings' childhood took place in the fall, during a period of time that the elders called a "dry cold." It was dangerous yet an unassuming weather pattern just from sight; when the temperature dropped and the snow stopped falling, freezing the ground under one's feet into a sheer, slick surface. The low light made it difficult to see how thick the ice below your feet really was, or if water lurked just beneath. The sky above was clear and the air crisp, wind settled. It truly was only a beautiful day from the perspective of the inexperienced. Between that and their parents locked in counsel, they really shouldn't have been out on the ice at all.

How fitting for the disaster that their training turned out to be.

Just like the worst of the days, Zuko reached a point in the day when he refused to tolerate any more of her egging on, and was about to walk out. And it was at that moment that Azula came up with another way to push her point, one that crossed a new line. "If you can just give up when things get tough, how are you gonna protect the village when dad leaves?"

Zuko had his back to her when the words first dropped and stopped in his tracks, turning around in a rush. "What…? What do you mean when he leaves?"

"You don't know?" Azula asked, knowing full-well that he didn't. The truth was that she wasn't supposed to know either. The elders and their parents avoided talking about the war as much as possible around the two of them. But she knew. "Everyone in the village knows! Dad declared war on the Fire Nation, of course he can't stay here. You really are a dummy!"

"Don't call me that!" Zuko burst out, stepping closer. "You're lying, just like always!"

"I'm not," She said, not conveying how much the idea of their father leaving bothered her as well, but she thought it should be said. "Dad promised to help the Earth Kingdom, and he can't do that from home, Zuko. So how is he gonna trust you to protect the village when he goes? You're so weak you wouldn't be able to do anything even if we were attacked!"

Out of reflex, Zuko flung a spray of water in her direction. Azula stepped aside, a little surprised. Even though she could tell it wasn't wholly intentional, it was the first time he had actually tried to bend at her. It was a testament to how far she was pushing him this time. Or, that Zuko had learned something after all. "I'm not weak, and I'm training with dad too. You are wrong!"

With just a few more words, the air was already so much more tense than it was before. By now, the temper was starting to get to Azula too. She started this to make him think, but now she was just angry at being rebuffed. He was beginning to affect her.

The ice creaked under their feet.

"You don't even see yourself, Zuzu," She snapped. "It's embarrassing to watch how bad you are at this," She moved to avoided another spray of ice-water, this one more aggressive, splashing across her boots. But the ice was slick and slippery, and the next arc caught her across the knees. Releasing a noise of annoyance from the cold seeping into her clothes, Azula retaliated. Within moments, water was being thrown back and forth. And beneath their feet the ice groaned in protest; it was a sound that went unacknowledged by both.

And it was that that came back to bite them. Because the next time that Azula attacked, strain was too much for the ice to take. The crack that split the sheet surface was loud enough that both of them froze in their tracks, too late. One moment, they were standing there, face to face. In the next, Zuko was gone, fallen through the ice that splintered beneath his feet.

He didn't even get the chance to shout before falling into the water with a splash.

Azula's eyes widened, and–fight forgotten–dashed to the open hole as carefully as she could. She tried to reach into the water for his dark form beneath the surface, only to pull her hand back with a involuntary noise. The water was so cold that it hurt.

If Azula jumped in after him to try to drag him out, the shock could knock her out. Which was probably what happened to her brother. Grandmother Kanna had warned children about the dangers of the arctic waters, that swimming in such temperature would leave you weak and sluggish, and could even make you pass out. Azula and Zuko being half-blooded made people suspect that their resistance to the cold was not as strong, and made swimming even more of a danger for them. Whether this was actually true or not, neither of them had decided to find out.

She couldn't go for their dad. Zuko would be long gone to the current before she came back.

Instead, the girl spread her hands and tried to move him back to the surface with her bending. For all the confidence that she had in her abilities, freezing water and pushing it to and fro was so much easier of a task than pulling him back up. She was so young and Zuko was bigger than her. In one dark moment of unease, she doubted she could do it.

But just when it seemed hopeless, the shape beneath her moved, and the fur collar of her brother's parka brushed the water's surface. Azula lunged for his shoulder, fingers tight, and dug her heels into the wobbly ice surface to drag him out and unto level ground. The water was soaked all the way through, made him heavy to move, and combined with the effort of her bending, exhausted the girl. She couldn't move him anymore than that. Azula let him go, wet, unconscious, and face-down on the ice as she tried to get her breath back.

She needed help. She needed her dad.

Azula ran for the village, her wet boots slipping across the ice. She bolted through the gates, blind to anyone else. It took longer to find him than she wanted–too long it seemed–bursting into a meeting between the elders and her father, grabbing his hand as those gathered straightened up in surprise. "Come on, come with me."

"Azula, wait, what's going on? Why are you here like–"

"Dad, we don't have time to talk, Zuko fell in the water," The girl told him, and instantly the confusion on Hakoda's face transformed into a worried expression that she had never seen before. The meeting he was burdened with only a moment before may as well have meant nothing. The harder, more determined look on his face bore a wordless demand that even in her mental and physical exhaustion could easily understand: where? Azula described the place she left him, continuing on in a rush, "I couldn't bring him back. He was too heavy, I couldn't–"

She cut herself off when Hakoda placed a hand on her shoulder, face tense. "Azula, I need you go back home and wait for me. Calm down and wait for us, alright?" At his urging, she nodded and pulled away. Her father dismissed the the meeting and rushed out of the hall.

There was nothing else she could do. Azula went back home, alone.

She trudged into the sectioned off room she had to share with her brother and waited there. The girl rubbed her hands in the furs, trying to drive away the chill of ice-water that clung to her skin, but even when her body had warmed, the feeling didn't seem to go away.

Why was she still so cold?

Later, Azula straightened up as she heard footsteps rushing inside. She nudged open the fur flap, seeing her father hurrying to the far end where his sleeping space was, her mother and Grandmother Kanna at his side. Hakoda was carrying Zuko in his arms, and his thick coat had been taken off and used to bundle the young boy up for warmth. Their loud voices were intermingling with each other, panicked. Zuko's voice was missing from the air; he was still unconscious. Kanna temporarily left for medicines while her parents were trying to make her brother as comfortable as possible, lowering their voices and talking in hushed whispers.

They were too rushed and worried to spare a thought to the girl who watched them. As time went on, Azula's eyes eventually drifted to where Zuko's skin had discolored, the cold of their own homeland tarnishing his body. Exposure. She was too slow, or too weak to drag him out when it counted. But if she was too weak, would she have broken the ice at all?

She didn't want to look at it, not right then. Azula backed away, pacing back to her cot.

She faded in and out of consciousness, and eventually, she woke–tired and bleary-eyed–to see a flickering light emitting from where Zuko was sequestered and moved to check it out. Surprisingly, in the other room, she found the old Fire Nation man standing (with the aid of a rough crutch) over her brother with flames in his hands. If she were more alert, Azula might have announced her presence and demanded to know what he thought he was doing there, but caught a glance of her father standing nearby. Hakoda had his eyes focused on the firebender tensely, his hand clutching a honed machete close. He watched the Fire Nation prisoner closely, but nothing more. Was he actually helping them?

Eventually, the old firebender dismissed the flames and lowered his hands, speaking to Hakoda in a whisper. Her father nodded, and the look on his face was–surprisingly–thankful. The prisoner took up his crutch again, and Hakoda led him away.

She felt unsettled, unable to really sleep for very long. So it was that she didn't go long before finding her dreams disrupted again. Once, half-asleep, the girl felt rather than saw her father leaning over her, brushing back her hair. Azula wasn't awake enough to fully remember the exact words of what he said, but that he told her that Zuko was stable, that he was going to recover. It was something that she needed to hear.

But she still didn't feel warm.

The last time Azula was disturbed that night it was to hear her parents arguing in the next room. She shrugged off the furs and looked over to find that Zuko had been moved back to his own cot, only a few feet away from her. There were bandages on his face and more peeking out from under the covers. Azula was about to reach out for him, but thought better of it and moved away.

Instead, she crawled over to the flap quietly and pulled it open just enough to see. Just in time to hear her father say, "I won't throw that around that kind of blame."

"You always pick her side!" Her mother was accusing, frazzled. It wasn't hard to figure out what she was talking about this time.

"I'm not on anyone's side," Hakoda defended, aghast. "There are no sides here." Azula had never seen them like this before. Her parents disagreed plenty of times, but they never raised their voices like this. Ursa's appearance was mussed and out of sorts, and Hakoda's stress was so apparent that even a girl as young as she was could easily see it. It wasn't normal.

But after a few more moments, Hakoda cut himself off, placing his hands on his wife's shoulders, head bowed. He lowered his voice and Azula barely caught the words he said next, "Please, Ursa, I don't want to fight. Not now, not like this." Ursa didn't reply at first, but slowly, her tense energy in her form loosened. The two of them were silent when they embraced. Azula realized that she didn't want to see them like that. But her mind was working too fast to go back to sleep either. The girl crept over to her brother's cot and sat down next to it, up against the wall. She pulled her knees up to her chest and rested like that, just waiting.

Time passed, the air was too still and stagnant.

Azula rubbed at her hands, unconsciously.

When Zuko began to stir, Azula noticed immediately. She stiffened, but didn't change her position otherwise, watching as her brother groaned and shifted under the furs. A single blue eye cracked open from under his messy black hair to stare up at her. "Azula," He said, acknowledging her presence with a rough, croaky voice.

Azula looked away, crossing her arms across her legs. After a moment of silence, she spoke in a low voice, "I didn't do it on purpose."

"I thought…you said you didn't make mistakes," Zuko reminded her, haltingly. His speech pattern was filled with pauses, as though he were still too tired to be talking, but was forcing himself to keep going anyway. It would make a lot of sense for him to do that. Zuko was always the most stubborn out of any of them.

The girl hesitated, then worked out, "I lied."

Zuko didn't speak again for a while.

She expected him to launch into accusations–despite his condition–telling her off. Being every bit the same brother she was used to arguing with all the time. It really would be the most expected outcome for them to have. Instead, Azula saw him eventually respond to her words with a faint nod to show he understood. Her brother believed a lot of things he shouldn't, but at least he still believed her when it really counted. She was lucky.

"Earlier," Zuko started, twisting his hands in the cot, "Dad said that you were the one who pulled me out…" He stared at her again, almost imploring. "Is that true?"

Azula flushed. Dad actually told him that? When?

"Yes," She admitted, hands going white-knuckled from how hard she was tightening them.

There was another long pause beneath them before Azula heard him say, quietly, "Thanks." Zuko fell back into slumber almost immediately after that, leaving his sister staring at him with wide eyes. Eventually, she also fell asleep, in that same spot, not moving away.

After all, she didn't feel cold anymore.

.