A/N: I'm noticing a pattern in some of my long descriptive passages; they're too abrupt and matter-of-fact (yes a little boring). So with this chapter (and the upcoming ones as well) I decided to revise it. A lot. I've tried to add more "spirit and flow" as Jane Austen would say. More transitions, more fluidity, and more spice. I know practice makes perfect, so I'm hoping to get better and better.
Disclaimer: Yeah, blah, blah, blah. Don't sue me, I don't own anything.
Zuko jogged along the twisting tunnel, every plaguing doubt and uncertainty about his sister gnawing away at him. Come on, where's the end? The anxious knot in his chest intensified around every turn that yielded more empty darkness and a passage that stretched on and on. Until, "Finally!" He approaced the abrupt deadend and breathed a sigh of relief as he slid his illuminated hand along its smooth, earthen surface. Flickering flames cast eerie cobweb shadows on the walls until he found the small carved torch holder and gave it a firm tug. The intricately designed vessel pulled out from the wall and slowly retracted back into place; two rock slabs grinding apart and revealing the exit. The Prince sucked in the cool gusts of night air, a welcome change from the stale air of the pass, and carefully sealed the stone, crouching behind a manicured bush to let his eyes become accustomed to the streaming moonlight.
With the silent feet of an assassin Zuko slipped through the shadows, darting from cover to cover until he finally reached the opposite side of the courtyard and the only building with any sign of life. But where to listen unnoticed? The one window to speak of was closed, so his golden eyes turned to the sky. A chimney opening. Perfect.
The Prince approached the walls and finding no suitable crevices, lit two flaming daggers in his hands. He scanned the vicinity one last time before quickly and forcefully jamming the right dagger into the stone, blasting the rock away in small chunks. He tugged upon it. The dagger seemed firmly embedded in the sizzling crater. Satisfied, Zuko scaled the wall easily using his formidable upper body strength. He reached the top, extinguished the fire in his hands, rolled over the wall, and lay face down; chin scraped by the rough stone and mouth and nose filled by cold bitter dirt. He climbed to his knees slowly, spitting and grumbling as he crouched low, "This would be so much easier if I was just a damn air bender."
Horrified with such a thought, Zuko briefly flashed back to his recent raging fever...the face of the Avatar peering at him in the mirror. Shaking his head, the son of the Fire Lord stayed low and made his way to the chimney. He hoisted himself up into the shaft and carefully wedged his weight against the walls with his limbs, and shimmied slowly down the opening.
As the warm green flame below grew brighter and brighter so the voices drifting up became clearer and clearer. One voice in particular stopped Zuko's descent immediately; the cold, direct, and feminine voice of his sister cut through the lower tones of the men. He began to listen and positioned himself as comfortably as possible against the narrow walls and bended some of the smoke and heat around his body. No other type of bender could have withstood the concentrated heat for very long and the Prince smirked to himself, subtly raising his body temperature.
He had arrived at an opportune time; Azula was addressing her newly arrived, estranged crew that had been slipped into the city disguised as merchants. She was giving her Royal convoy an orientation of sorts; going over basic duties, plans, the need for secrecy, etc.
"...and so that is all you need for the moment. Any questions?"
An eager male voice responded,"Princess Azula you will be happy to know that we received a messenger hawk from you father; Fire Lord Ozai."
Zuko froze, his eyes narrowing and senses sharpening.
"He sent it to our ship in lieu of Ba Sing Se because of the suspicions it might alert; a Fire Nation hawk flying into the Palace. Also, Lord Ozai did not want his message to fall into the wrong hands."
There was silence and Zuko imagined the soldier was bowing and presenting the scroll to Azula. The rustle of paper and crack of a seal. Then silence that seemed to last an eternity as tried to hold absolutely still, knowing any little sound would be heard. "Well, well, well. It appears that father is inordinately pleased. I have accomplished what has never been before, despite the brilliance of our nation. Something that not even my 'great' Uncle was able to complete. Hmm," Azula continued scanning the parchment, "blah, blah, blah, a truly crucial blow for total victory, last real stronghold of the Earth Kingdom." Then he heard laughter in her voice.
"Ahh here, father mentions my words on Zuko. 'Even though you allege that Zuko was the key in defeating the Avatar, I still do not claim him as my son.' "Hmm." Azula seemed to think she had said too much. She snapped the scroll shut and turn abruptly back to her soldiers.
"Gentleman, my father says Iroh is a traitor and a disgrace. He is to be brought back through the streets of the kingdom in chains. He will face justice. And Zuko-Zuko, my dear brother. I am to order him to resume his search for the Avatar. If he dies in the attempt, that shall serve my fathers purposes. If he runs away, never returns to the Fire Nation and lives out his life forgotten; so much the better. If Zuko comes back empty handed he is to be captured (preferably alive), arrested, and taken back to the Fire Nation and Lord Ozai. If by some miracle he succeeds we both shall return to the Fire Nation, leaving Ba Sing Se under a competent General's command. Once back to the capital, the Avatar will be imprisoned and Zuko arrested." Azula paused in the midst of her pacing, hands clasped behind her back and eyes narrowed as she looked into the faces of the Fire Nation warriors. "However, this matter is of utmost secrecy. Even Mai and Ty Lee are not to know."
"But enough of that unpleasantness. Now Lieutenant Fong in accordance with…"
But throughout these revelations and instructions, the members of the Royal Convoy traded uneasy glances. Zuko was Prince (albeit exiled) of their nation, previous heir to the throne, and a powerful fire bender. Of course they were all too terrified of Azula to voice any of their opinions (a Fire Nation soldier didn't do that to begin with), but most had their misgivings about treating her brother in such a way.
The soldiers filed out of the room and Azula remained behind, re-reading her father's letter and collecting a few other documents left on the table. She let out a snort. "Ha, oh Zuzu. Father says he's amazed that you've 'survived thus far.' We were both sure 3 years at sea would be enough to put you at the bottom of it. Perhaps father was right; Uncle's removal shall see your failure once and for all." She paused for a moment and sighed. "Poor blind Zuzu, father was always ashamed of you; always looking for a way to get rid of you."
As Zuko listened to the contents of his father's missive he ran through a gauntlet of emotions. First and foremost was pain; pain and shock. He was finally forced to acknowledge that Ozai truly did not want him as his son-I am worthless in his eyes. Then anger-his great, kind, compassionate Uncle to be dragged through the streets?! And when he heard of his father's plan to resume the search of the Avatar, Zuko could have put his fist through the wall in frustration. Nothing absolutely nothing would ever prove his worth; gain his father's acceptance, respect, or his love.
And Azula's little tirade drove the final nail into the coffin; Zuko went completely numb except for the sharp dagger of pain someone had plunged into his heart. He heard the crackle of the fire, the blowing of the wind, saw the moon shining brightly down; yet these were all meaningless. Disbelief, heart wrenching pain, and a feeling of not knowing what to do or where to go all warred inside of him. In truth, deep down, ever since his father had scarred and sent him on a fool's errand he knew that Ozai did not truly want him back. But he did not know that the Fire Lord harbored such a twisted depth of hatred for his own son. His own flesh and blood. Always alone, weak, unwanted.
Azula's back was to the fireplace as she left the chamber and so she did not witness the lone tear that fell into the green flames. She did however hear the resultant hissing and spitting. Frowning, she swiftly crossed the room, lowered the flames, and looked up into the chimney shaft. Nothing was there but moonlight and darkness; smoke drifting lazily out into the night sky unimpeded. The Fire Princess frowned again, and shrugging, re-crossed the room. One last look was bestowed upon the empty chamber before she turned swiftly on her heel, and closed the door firmly behind her. She smiled maliciously, perhaps I'll go share "the plan" with my dear older brother. And with that pleasant thought adding a lightness to her normally brusque step, the girl made her way through the halls fully intending to rid herself of Zuko as soon as possible.