"I have no reason to worry about Iroh. He's strong, he's brilliant, he's everything a man could want in a firstborn son," Azulon said. But when three months went by without any letter or even a note, his worry was evident even to the most oblivious of the guards and servants.
Ozai slowly made his way to his father's war room, careful not to disturb anyone's sleep. It was well past midnight, but if Ozai knew his father he wouldn't be able to sleep either. Taking a deep breath, he pushed open the heavy door and stepped inside. Azulon sat wide awake on a couch, but said nothing. Ozai let the door close behind him and went to his side.
"Father."
The Fire Lord slowly turned his head to look upon his son with indifference.
"Ozai. What are you still doing up at this hour, you have lessons tomorrow," he said, and Ozai flinched at the harshness of his tone.
"Forgive me, Father, I couldn't sleep," he said. "I just...thought perhaps you might like some company."
Azulon sighed.
"If you insist." He moved over slightly to make room for Ozai to sit down, and the prince smiled a little. At least Father was paying attention to him. They sat in silence for a few moments, then Ozai spoke.
"I had a thought, Father," he said. "Until Iroh returns...I know I'm only thirteen and that's still young, but I need to start learning the things a prince should know. Even if I'm not going to inherit-"
"What's your point, Ozai?" Azulon asked impatiently. Ozai swallowed.
"Might I be allowed to sit in on your war meetings, Father?" he asked, willing his voice to remain even. "I promise I wouldn't say a word, I just want to understand more about my country, and how we've stayed so strong all these years."
His father looked him over, seeming to seriously consider this. Ozai let his hopes rise, maybe Father would think this was exactly what his son needed to know, maybe he would even-
"Absolutely not," Azulon finally said, and Ozai deflated.
"Why?" he asked.
"Your education takes place in the schoolroom, not the war room. Your brother is one of our nation's finest military officers, your place is here," his father said. "Do I make myself clear?"
"But Father, I-"
"Do I make myself clear?" he asked again, glaring down at his son, and Ozai felt like he'd just been slapped. Stupid boy, you're only his second son, what made you think he'd say yes? he chastised himself, tears pricking at his eyes.
"...yes, Father," he whispered. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be presumptuous."
"As well you should be," Azulon snapped. "Go now, I've had quite enough of your foolishness for one night."
Without a word, Ozai stood up and walked out of the room. The way back to his bedchamber felt twice as long, and when he made it back he realized he was crying.
He didn't care.