A/N: Finally another chapter! I mixed up the format in this one into a sort of Zuko Alone structure, but I'll go back to the regular story after this. A very special thanks to Forever Fyre for helping me make this chapter into an entirely new, far less sucky format, and of course Samurai The Mountain for helping me fix it up. n.n. The poem is Ozymandias by Percy Bysshe Shelley.
Oh yeah, and to anyone who has bothered to read this far: I love you.
The Wulong Forest
"We should reach the Wulong Forest in less than an hour, Sir," General Shieh informed Ozai.
The self-appointed Phoenix King's lips curved up in an unsettling smile and he relished the uneasy expression that crossed the general's face. "Thank you, General," he said. With a bow Shieh returned to his post, looking somewhat relieved to be away from the unusually happy Ozai.
This was it. He'd achieved everything that his father and grandfather failed to. He was about to finish the war once and for all. After he burned down the forest the will of the Earth Kingdom would be broken, surely crushing any thoughts of rebellion, just as his daughter predicted. Then he would be the one and only king.
Ozai leaned back in the metal chair that was acting as his throne and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, still smiling, and tapped his fingers on the steel armrest. The king knew that his good mood only acted to terrify the crew of the airship, but that just made him smile wider. He could hear the soldiers' footsteps giving his throne a wide berth; the fear in the control room was almost tangible. It took Ozai years to build such a reputation that he could put people on edge with his mere presence, and he treasured every second of it.
Ozai was twelve years old when he disappeared. He stood at the edge of the crowded room, peeking around the legs of a servant to get a glimpse at the object of everyone's attention. Fire Lord Azulon held the newborn baby in his arms, looking down at him affectionately.
"My first grandson!" he said proudly. He was smiling, really smiling, and that was what stuck in Ozai's mind. First; being anything other than first was nothing in the old man's eyes and Ozai would never be anything more than his second son and the future Fire Lord's younger brother.
It was Iroh who called him out of his hiding place. "Come meet your nephew," he said with a mile wide grin.
Ozai would have preferred to stay hidden, but he stepped forward anyway; it was only proper. He took the baby in his arms and looked down at the wrinkled little hands. Lu Ten was sleeping soundly, having tired himself out with all of his screaming and crying.
He saw the boy moving in his sleep, he saw Lan Ying's tired smile, and he saw the beaming faces of Iroh and Azulon. A strange feeling of dread and anxiety was building up in his chest, but he couldn't find the reason for it. He should have known that from thereafter he would always be in the background.
The sound of voices drifted through the steel door to the right of Ozai's temporary throne as footsteps approached. "…You mean you're not?" once voice asked as the footsteps stopped before entering the control room.
"Well okay, I am…a little," a second voice said. Ozai's interest peaked and he was momentarily distracted from his visions of burning forests.
"Exactly, it just feels wrong," the first voice said so quietly the king could barely make out his words. He opened his eyes and turned towards the porthole, as though looking in that direction would make it easier to hear the men talking.
"It's too late now; we're already on the ship. Let's just get this over with." A twinge of annoyance cut through the king's good mood. The mission hadn't even officially begun and already his orders were being questioned. There was a pause where Ozai imagined one of the men nodding before the latch turned and the door was opened. The gazes of the two men met the angry amber eyes of the Phoenix King. Quickly, they bowed.
"Your Highness," the soldiers chorused raising out of their bow with matching anxious stares; they must have realized he'd heard them.
Ozai weighed his options. Should he have these men thrown off the airship? One of the men was sweating. Should he think of some demeaning task to humiliate them? The other was staring at the king's left hand that still tapped the chair. Should he merely threaten them? He stopped tapping. One of the men flinched. Ozai resisted a smile, although he realized it would probably serve to scare them more. He stroked his beard thoughtfully.
Another two months passed. Ozai sat up from the kowtow, raising his eyes to meet his father's silhouette behind the fire.
"How is your firebending coming along?" asked Azulon's deep voice.
He gulped. Should he lie and tell him he was doing great? Should he tell the truth and admit that since Iroh became too busy with his new son help him that he fell almost an entire set behind the other boys? The young man decided that honesty was the best policy with his father; the consequences of lying were far worse than any amount of lecturing or anger.
He took a deep breath. "I am still stuck on the fifth set," he said, his heart trying to beat out of his chest in anticipation for the Fire Lord's disappointment.
"You must work harder if you ever wish to become a master," Azulon said.
Ozai blinked. The anxiety and anticipation drained away to be replaced by confusion and strangely, disappointment. That was it? The flames in front of the throne didn't swell, there were no words meant to humiliate him into performing better, there was no rage?
"Yes, Father," he droned, not entirely caring if his frown was visible from the throne.
"Good," the elderly man said. Ozai knew it was time for him to leave. He bowed one last time, stood and backed up several paces before turning around and exiting the throne room.
His jaw was clenched. He never thought he'd miss being yelled at.
"Remind me of your name," the Phoenix King commanded one of the soldiers. He couldn't be sure that this was the man who started the conversation, but he figured his point would be received either way.
"Lieutenant Hong," the man replied with another bow.
The corner of Ozai's lip twitched; this man was an officer, not just a soldier. At least he could take care of that. "Hm," he said after a moment.
"Sir?" Hong asked when the king didn't go on.
"I seem to have forgotten what I was going to say," Ozai replied with a wave of his hand. "It must not have been important." He smiled the menacing smile again. "What was your business here, Staff Sergeant?"
The man's eyes widened, but he didn't mention his demotion. He bowed with a frown and then signaled his companion with a nod of his head. The second man wiped his brow and walked past Ozai to give a scroll to General Shieh, who stood in tense silence along with the rest of the crew.
Ozai's false smile slipped off.
He was fourteen the first time he went into his father's war room. He stood in front of the curtain anxiously, trying to work up the motivation to go inside. Several weeks ago he graduated from the Royal Fire Academy for Boys, but he still hadn't been invited to any of the war meetings, so he'd gone to Iroh, who now stood beside him.
"Trust me," Iroh said, patting his shoulder.
"I don't know," the prince replied with a frown. His father didn't invite him, but his brother, the crown prince, did. Shouldn't that be enough?
"If you're going to help me run this country one day, it's time you start going to the meetings so you know what's going on."
Ozai let out a desperate kind of chuckle. He did appreciate that his brother hadn't abandoned him as fully as his father, and he knew that one day he would be one of Iroh's advisers, so it did make sense.
"Come on," Iroh said. Ozai was still trying to get back the feeling of longing that had motivated him to ask his brother in the first place when he realized the older man was pulling the curtain aside and leading him inside.
With his heart beating in his throat the younger prince stepped into the room, which was full of his father's generals and advisers. After patting his shoulder one last time, Iroh motioned for Ozai to sit at the edge of the table and he took his place beside Azulon's throne.
They waited for the Fire Lord.
"What is this?" General Shieh asked, holding up the scroll he'd been given.
"It's a report," the man said.
The general blinked slowly and sighed. "Thank you. Why don't you just tell me what it says?" he passed the scroll back to the man.
"Uh," he cleared his throat and twisted the scroll around in his hands, "Just as we were entering the area over Earth Kingdom waters, the distress signal on Captain Tsen's airship was lit."
Ozai frowned, so did Shieh. Each ship was equipped with a torch that should only be lit if there was a serious emergency; this was the Phoenix King's one shot to harness the power of the comet. He couldn't afford for anything to ruin it. The general turned to the navigator. "Do you see anything?" he asked.
"We haven't seen any emergency signals, everything looks fine from here," he reeled out quickly.
"Yes, it was extinguished before I even finished writing the report," the man replied, his eyes flickering to Ozai's annoyed glare.
"Then why did you bother to finish writing it?" the king asked. I'm surrounded by idiots, he realized.
"I-I thought you would want to know?" He coughed.
"Well I'm glad you saw fit to waste my time with that little gem of information. Anything else?"
The soldier's eyes were wide and the panic on his face made the king smirk. "And then the ship went down to water-level, like it was landing but then it went back into formation," the man concluded, his hands shaking.
Ozai merely raised an eyebrow; did these men really feel the need to come tell him and the General personally that one of the airships lit their distress signal only to put it out, then went down to water level only to return to position? The soldier fidgeted until Shieh saw fit to save him. "Everything looks fine now," he said, "They probably had trouble with their furnaces. You should return to the lookout post."
Ozai was fourteen when his jealousy and occasional resentment of his brother began to mutate into true hatred.
He was breathing hard and trying to resist the urge to light Iroh's anxious smile on fire, which now faltered when he realized exactly how upset Ozai was. The crown prince sighed. "I already talked to him," he said. "He didn't know I'd invited you."
"You don't really expect me to believe that, do you?" the teenager asked, his clenched fists shaking.
"What does that mean?" Iroh asked with a frown. He looked genuinely apologetic, but Ozai wasn't falling for it. The boy could hear his father's angry and humiliating words echoing in his head.
How dare you, you insolent boy?
"We both know you planned it. You could have just told him I was going to be there but you didn't," he said, his voice rising until he was nearly yelling. "It wasn't enough for you to be better at everything, or to always be first. No, you had to make sure everyone knew it."
"That's not true," Iroh protested, his eyes wide with surprise.
Mock-surprise, Ozai reminded himself. He shot another venomous glare at the crown prince before turning around and storming off in the direction of his room.
The soldiers bowed one last time before exiting the room, the newly appointed Staff Sergeant looking sullen. Suddenly, Ozai wished he had brought Azula along, just so he could have her take care of all the stupid little tasks that he didn't want to be bothered with. Maybe she could threaten some sense into these people; he knew his daughter was nearly as good at manipulation as he was, but he couldn't have her there to get underfoot.
He took a deep breath trying to focus on his upcoming victory instead of his annoyance. He closed his eyes, trying to get back the excitement but his thoughts turned back to Azula's narrowly avoided temper tantrum before he left the Fire Nation.
"My decision is final," he told his daughter sternly. Never before had Azula been one to act like a pathetic child, and he had to admit he was somewhat surprised.
Azula was breathing hard and blinking furtively. "You…You can't treat me like this!" she said, her voice increasing in pitch and her face twisting up into a hurt and angry expression. Ozai raised his eyebrows. "You can't treat me like Zuko!"
The Fire Lord frowned. He considered punishing her; she was embarrassing both of them by throwing a fit in front of his generals and the entire air force. "Azula, silence yourself."
"But it was my idea," Azula complained, clenching her fists. An annoying, whiny timbre was creeping into her voice, "To burn everything to the ground. I deserve to be by your side!" He half expected the princess to stomp her foot but thankfully she had enough restraint not to.
"Azula!" Ozai said, raising his voice. Azula hung her head and just before he was about to order her to go back inside he realized that would only cause more of an uproar. He frowned at his daughter, deciding it would be better to simply find a way to calm her down. "Listen to me; I need you here to watch over the homeland." He did his best to make his voice kind, and appealed to his daughter's ego, "It's a very important job that I can only entrust to you."
Azula looked up into his eyes; her face was hopeful, but there was something else behind her tearful expression that he didn't really care to try to define. It was a panicky, hysteric kind of something. "Really?" she asked.
"And for your loyalty," he continued, "I've decided to name you the new Fire Lord."
Azula's face lit up and Ozai knew he'd found a way to calm her. He could care less if she was the Fire Lord; giving away his title was the perfect way to end her tantrum without taking her along. It felt strange to give up the thing he worked so hard for, but he knew that soon, the position of Fire Lord would hold no more power than that of the Earth King.
He was still quite surprised that Azula finally spoke out against him; it was one thing if his worthless son did, but the prodigal daughter? Ozai shook his head infinitesimally. When Azula glared at him, her fists balled up tightly, she looked remarkably like her mother, and Ozai was reminded of the last time she'd yelled at him.
Ursa's voice echoed through his memory as though it was only yesterday. You can't treat people like this! shouted the ghost-voice, and he shook it out of his head.
"How much longer, now?" he asked General Shieh, with a tinge of irritation to his voice. This was no time for dwelling on the past.
Victory was within his reach.
My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look upon my works, ye Mighty, and despair.