A/N: I apologize for the chapter length so far. They seem average on Word, but when I upload them here I get dizzy scrolling down! Thank you for the reviews so far. Sorry for the ass-dragging when it comes to uploading. Enjoy, si vous plais.

"I am sorry for your loss, my brother."

Iroh paid the voice little mind as he stared on at the grave of his only son, eyes so distant it made it seem as though his sorrow had driven him blind. Leaves were beginning to fall this time of year, shriveled blossoms falling onto the moistened earth over Lu Ten's freshly buried coffin. He felt a hand on his shoulder, but it was lithe and feminine as opposed to the stony hand of the man who had addressed him. He slowly turned to peer down at Princess Ursa, his brother's wife.

Her eyes were sad, but nowhere near as distant. Unlike Iroh, she had not been so close to the deceased that having all her emotions at the surface would forfeit her sanity. "We are truly sorry, Iroh. Lu Ten was a wonderful man. A courageous soldier. He did us all proud."

"Yes." Iroh replied quietly. "He was all of those things."

"Ursa," Ozai's voice rang again from behind. "Leave us, so that I may speak with my brother in peace."

The woman paused, taking in the scene and looking between them before bowing her head and making her way back towards the palace.

Iroh didn't move to face his sibling. He knew that Ozai was not the type to offer true condolences, and royalty or not, Iroh was not about to listen to his little brother's cruel indifference.

"Surely I could not begin to understand your sadness." Ozai offered, but his voice suggested no true sorrow. "If it were my son, I would be beside myself with grief."

Iroh closed his eyes and struggled not to boil over at such a blatant lie. Should some travesty befall little Zuko, his father would most likely shed nothing more than a frown. How dare he compare such apathy to the love he had for Lu Ten.

"However I must say I am shocked by your return from the warfront. Whatever possessed you could abandon your post, Iroh?" Ozai continued, showcasing his true sentiments at last.

"My son is dead." Iroh said. "There are plenty more to take his place, as well as mine. The army is more than capable of fighting without me."

"You all but had Ba Sing Se in the palm of your hand, and you threw it away. You are not loyal to your nation." Came the disgusted response. "Your mourning is understandable, brother, but not your cowardice."

"He was so proud to fight for the Fire Nation. He was a dedicated soldier and one of the greatest firebenders in his rank. But I suppose I could be a bit partial. He was, after all, my only child." Iroh said reflectively, ignoring his brother's accusations.

Ozai was clearly annoyed by this lacking reply. "You are a disgrace, Iroh. How can you expect to be taken seriously as Fire Lord if this is the way you react in the face of adversity? If you run and cower at every casualty?"

"At a time like this, how can you expect me to care?" Was Iroh's only retort.

Ozai was not pleased. Obviously he was trying to incite something. But when he made no impact, he simply cut straight to the point. "Father is instating me as Fire Lord and giving me the throne in his passing." He declared.

Iroh very much doubted the likelihood of their father doing such a thing. Fire Lord Azulon had expressed no distaste for Iroh's return. He had even ensured the most lavish of funeral processions, and though useless it was, the gesture was not an empty one. His son was put to rest in a fashion befitting a fallen god. That at least had given Iroh the smallest glimmer of pleasure. "Take from me whatever you desire, Ozai." He said hollowly. "All that matters to me is gone."

Ozai hesitated for a long time. Apparently he hadn't expected Iroh to step aside so easily. But feeling himself victorious, he attempted to offer some form of consolation prize. "You shall be welcomed in this palace always, brother, for you are still royalty. Your reputation will still serve as an inspiration to the soldiers, after all."

"Thank you, Ozai." Iroh muttered. "Thank you for having the generosity to welcome me to stay in my own home."

Ozai sensed the thread of sarcasm and scowled, eyes darkening. How dare he speak that way when he was being offered nothing but lenience for the betrayal of his own nation. "This is still father's kingdom, unless you've forgotten." There was a long pause as he glared at his sullen brother, who still wouldn't even give the courtesy of turning around. "It is indeed a great loss. For your son was clearly a better man than you shall ever be." He left him with that as a last attempt to be scathing, heading for the palace himself to arrange to speak with their father on similar matters.

Out of all the things Ozai had said, it was only that which pricked tears in Iroh's eyes. It was truly the nicest thing his brother had ever said to him, intentional or not. He continued to stand by his son's side, filled with fluctuating emotions of guilt and self pity, anger and despair, and an overwhelming loss. His wife had passed long ago, and now his son was gone as well. What did he have to look forward to now? Lu Ten had been a handsome young man, a trait Iroh often jokingly attributed to himself. In truth, he had held his mother's beauty. He knew grandchildren to be on the horizon soon, as Lu Ten (also much like his father) had rambled nonstop about all the beautiful woman he had met on his conquests and fretted terribly over which one he would choose to become his wife.

But that hope had been dashed. Now what was he to become but a lonely old man? Maybe Ozai was right. With no heir and no hope for the future, what kind of a Fire Lord would he be now? Iroh again closed his eyes towards his buried dreams. "Be at peace, my only son."

"Uncle Iroh?" called a small voice from behind.

Iroh turned to see his young nephew staring out at him, having stopped a rather great distance for fear of either Iroh's mood or simply the stigma of being so close to a grave. He sighed as he looked on at Zuko, the wonderful young son that Ozai was not even grateful for while Lu Ten, the light of Iroh's world, was gone. "Hello, Prince Zuko." He greeted.

Seeing that he was not met in an unfriendly manner, Zuko came closer, head bowed. "Mom said it was okay if I talked to you."

Iroh stared down at him patiently, but said nothing.

Zuko looked up slowly when he received no response this time. He was not crying, as he was still very young and had not been terribly close to the deceased, but he was clearly very genuinely sad. "I just…I just wanted to say that…I'm sorry about cousin Lu Ten."

Iroh paused painfully before offering an insincere smile. "Thank you, Zuko."

The two of them said nothing for a long while, Iroh staring back over at his son's resting ground and Zuko staring at his feet. "Uncle Iroh?" Zuko asked timidly.

"Yes?"

Zuko almost seemed to reconsider his question, but asked it anyway. "Are you proud that your son died a Fire Nation soldier?"

Iroh knew his eyes to be clouded over already, but he shielded the boy from his agony by responding as calmly as he could. "…I would have never cared what he was. I did not want to see him die. I would have been proud of him even if he had not given me every reason to be." He turned away and added more quietly, "He did not need to die to win my pride. Or my love."

Zuko seemed especially affected by that. Iroh could imagine why. He almost felt guilty, bragging of his love for his son while Zuko had no true fatherly love to behold. Ozai had always felt as though their father had favored Iroh, and in return he had cruelly projected this feeling onto his own children and had sought to compensate by openly favoring Azula, his second child, and the one he equated to himself. To Ozai, children were nothing more than esteem—requirements to uphold his reputation as royalty and as a man who could prove he could pass on good stock.

"…I wish I was like Lu Ten." Zuko said softly at last.

Iroh felt a stab to his heart. The image of his son, pale and lifeless, blood trickling down from lips that would never smile again, sat in front of his eyes like a hung portrait. Lu Ten had died needlessly for this war, and where he lay dying stood ten more boys like him in his place. To his kingdom, Lu Ten's life had meant nothing. Could Zuko really wish for something so terrible upon himself? Did he think then that his father would shed upon him the same attention Iroh shed upon his own? Without explanation, he gruffly embraced the young boy. A confused Zuko had simply stared out at Lu Ten's grave over Iroh's shoulder, wondering why it had upset his uncle so much just to express the desire to be a soldier.

Iroh wasn't sure what reminded him of such things as he helped to fashion on Appa's saddle. Perhaps it was simply that he thought of his son every day since his birth. Or perhaps it was his brooding nephew, now sixteen and standing beside him that he was truly thinking of. Zuko, his second son, a boy he was extremely grateful had stayed out of the ranks of war. Even if Zuko's banishment had been devastating to him, Iroh was selfishly pleased by it. Ozai had sent him on a fool's quest and thereby steered him away from battle, whereas Iroh was certain his brother would have opted to get rid of his unfavorable son by depositing him in the front infantry. He often wished that Zuko knew his father's true intentions for him, but he could not bring himself to say such things for fear of so greatly upsetting him. But it was unfair, at the same time. Zuko was almost a man and here Iroh still kept secrets from him as though he were a child. And because of those untold and unproven truths, here still was Zuko, avidly trying to verify his worth to his father. Even now, when Zuko was standing between two sides of the war, he could never give up on winning his father back. Iroh knew that. And it worried him deeply. Even he could not say for certain where Zuko's true allegiance lay, and he did not want to appear a fool by imagining that Zuko would ever abandon his hope of returning home. No more than he would ever see Iroh as anything but an uncle. He had inherited Ozai's narrow-mindedness.

"What is it, Uncle?" Zuko said, breaking Iroh from his staring.

"Nothing, Zuko." The old man replied as he continued his work. "It is just…your hair is getting to be so bushy."

Zuko narrowed an eye, but shrugged it off and kept on his part of the saddle strap dutifully. Why do you watch me, Uncle? What is it you're waiting for? Or have the others convinced you too that I might be untrustworthy? He thought bitterly, even if he didn't really believe that. His anger towards the other group members, however, clouded his judgment in all cases. He was getting especially agitated by Sokka.

"Hey, move it or lose it, dragon-breath!" said Water Tribesman called down from where he sat atop the saddle. "We're wasting valuable flying time here!"

"If you're in such a hurry, why don't you come down here and do it yourself?" Zuko growled back as he tightened the strap roughly—which caused Appa to jolt and Sokka to lose his balance and almost fall overboard.

Sokka panicked for a moment before finding a sturdy grip and scowling murderously down at Zuko. "You try that again and you'll get a boomerang in your good eye, you jerk!"

Zuko grit his teeth and clenched the strap as if to test that threat when Iroh cleared his throat next to him and gave him a glare. "Let us not start our morning with such hostility, nephew."

"But he—"

"I think you boys are just cranky because you haven't had any tea yet." Iroh interrupted. Sokka and Zuko stared off before turning away from one another crossly. "I think Katara is cooking us breakfast. Why don't you two go on ahead? I will finish up here."

Sokka muttered as he finished his task hurriedly, packing the rest of their needed supplies onto the front of the saddle and climbing down. "Oh great. Another mouth-watering meal of sticks and berries." He griped as they traveled back to the clearing.

The two of them marched off in silence and came upon the remainder of the group cooking breakfast indeed, Katara with a pile of fish on a seal skin next to her as she cooked them over the open flame. Aang was helping her while Toph sat back and listened stoically. Sokka gawked at the scene as he walked in on it. "Fish? How did you two catch fish?!"

"It was easy." Aang replied, exposing his suddenly bare feet. "Fish can't resist my toes!"

"And they don't suspect waterbending while they're chewing on them, either." Katara added.

Zuko sneered to himself, not at all pleased with the idea of dining on foot fish. He crossed his arms and sulked next to his uncle, who was already getting out the plates.

"Well why didn't anyone tell me? I could've caught a lot more than…" Sokka murmured swiftly as he counted over the fish with the finger. "Eight!"

Katara and Aang exchanged a look. "You were busy. And we all know we don't bother big important Sokka when he's busy." Katara taunted.

"Tell that to him." Sokka grumbled as he curled a lip at Zuko before wander to the fire and snatching a fish.

Zuko ignored whatever comment flew his way as well as Katara's chastisement of her brother's manners. He was not only unexcited to sit down with the group in another awkward meal, but also increasingly wary of their lazing about in one spot for so long. They had been in this location for almost an entire day now. How could Azula not have sent forces of the Dai Li as well as whatever Fire Nation faction was under her power hot on their trail? A group of raucous children wouldn't be hard to find, especially with an enormous furry beast in their possession. If they hadn't found them already, in which case they were waiting for the opportune moment to attack, they would be upon them shortly. But he was sure that anything he had to say to the others would be disregarded. He was no longer aboard his ship where his soldiers were ordered to obey him on pain of death, nor was he with his placating uncle. His word no longer held any weight.

Even still, how could they be taking their time? Their last encounter with Azula could have easily proved deadly no matter how much Aang had advanced in his multi-bending skills, and that was in a face to face fight. He found it difficult to believe that all of them could manage their way out of an ambush. More importantly, if the Avatar was so undedicated in his mission, how had he managed to evade Zuko for so long? He snorted and stared vengefully into the fire again.

"All I'm saying is that it wouldn't make anything harder on us if you'd try and get along with everyone!" Katara shot back at Sokka.

"Hey, I think you'd be seeing things just a little differently if it was Jet tagging along with us instead." He retaliated.

Katara was visibly upset by that accusation. "No it wouldn't, Sokka." She ground out. "Did it ever occur to you that maybe our survival depends on our cooperation? We would've never made it this far if we'd been at eachother's throats the whole time!"

"Yeah, well, you could've fooled me!" Sokka thrust his half-eaten fish carcass at her in gesticulation. " 'Cause you've been at mine since you could talk!"

"Agh!" Katara yelled in frustration. "Fine! From now on, you do whatever you want, Sokka. Just don't come crawling to me when you have another fishhook incident!"

"That was one time!"

"Doofus!"

"Crybaby!"

"Hmph, whatever. …Toph, could you hand me a plate?" Katara dismissed him as she worked on pulling another cooked fish off the spit. When she received no response, she looked up. "Toph?" But Toph was no longer seated across from them, having vanished sometime in the midst of the argument.

Aang looked back and forth between Katara and the spot where Toph had been. "She was just here a minute ago."

"Well did anyone see where she went?" Katara asked as she stood worriedly. "It's not like her to just walk off without saying anything."

"I'd be surprised if anyone could get a word in with you two squabbling." Zuko snapped. They all stared at him. "I'll find her."

"Wh-but—" Sokka protested as Zuko passed and ignored him.

Zuko didn't look back to gauge the reaction of the others. He couldn't care less what they had to say about it. Though he resented the idea, Toph's statement had driven its way into his mind and had made him increasingly nervous about his standing. "Just makes me wonder what you're good for." He didn't want to give anyone the chance to ask that. After all, he'd been running away from that question for years. The only thing he had ever been good at was being an heir to the throne of his kingdom, but now he had virtually no hope of being that. He had to do something at least. In any case, it was best to leave them before his mere presence incited yet another argument, as that seemed to be the norm.

His eyes scanned the forest around him, trying to use the best of his tracking skills to deduce which direction she had gone. Her trail was surprisingly difficult to follow—almost as though she had purposefully made her tracks to be eluding. Though why she would attempt to discourage anyone from following her was beyond him. Eventually, however, he came upon a small rise, and down the incline near an open lake stood Toph, blind eyes sharp across the waters and her figure stiff. Zuko contemplated approaching her more cautiously this time. He could very well walk away and inform the others of her whereabouts, since at this distance it seemed unlikely that she knew he was there. In the end he decided to retrieve her, as he did not want the blame if she wandered off further.

Zuko fought his way through the brush with one of his twin swords down the dusty slope towards the girl carefully. She was sure to hear him coming, and so when he made it to her, he didn't bother to make her aware of his presence with a greeting. Toph appeared grave. "I thought I heard something." She said to him. "But now I'm not so sure."

"What did you hear?" Zuko questioned with equal seriousness as his eyes suspiciously glared over the water.

"Voices." She replied quietly. "But they're gone now."

Zuko looked on at her before he peered back into the woods with narrow eyes. If Toph was right, all of his suspicions would be confirmed and the group was in immediate danger. He quickly began to study the area for signs of company. If they were here, they hadn't been here long. There were no traceable signs of fires that had burned or remnants of eaten food in plain view. After a few minutes of searching through the bushes and the surrounding water's edge, he came to no definite conclusion. "I don't see anything."

Toph didn't seem entirely convinced. "If you say so."

Zuko stared at her for a moment before starting his search over again, this time more slowly and in a wider range. It was then that he noticed a few pushed down sticks in the brush where the trees shaded on the eastern side of the lake. In the bare dirt next to them were footprints. His stomach sank.

"Did you find something?" Toph demanded as she approached.

"Footsteps. And they're not ours."

Toph pushed her foot into the dirt and felt the shape of the ground through unnoticeable vibrations, picking up on the indentation left by the track. "Soldiers. Heavily armored soldiers. But where did they all go? They couldn't've gotten far, but I can't hear or feel them anywhere."

Zuko stared down at the footprints with a hardened expression. "Let's get back to the others. Fast."