Sunlight shone through the shuttered windows, finally rivaling the dying light of the guttering candle. Although he and his mother had talked straight through until morning, Zuko didn't feel the least bit tired. He'd told her about how he had tracked her down, even going so far as to show her the drawing he'd used in his search. She was quite impressed.

After sharing a simple breakfast just after sunrise, for which Momo woke up only long enough to demand his share before curling up on the table and going back to sleep, Ursa had finally divulged the events leading up to her 'disappearance'. Zuko didn't say a word, but merely stared thoughtfully into his teacup until she finished her tale. There was a pregnant pause.

"Then Azula was telling the truth," he stated quietly, sounding pensive, but unsurprised.

Ursa let out a slow breath. "Yes."

A brief, somber silence ensued before Ursa continued.

"I'm can't say that I'm proud of my involvement in your grandfather's demise," she confessed softly, then her voice hardened with firm resolve, "but I don't regret anything I did. Ozai had no compunctions about sacrificing you, and I would have faced a punishment of death before I let that happen. As it was, I was merely sent away."

"You mean banished," her son corrected coldly, not looking up from his cup.

"Yes."

Zuko seemed to ponder this for a moment, his brow furrowing in confusion. He knew from personal experience that exiles were sent beyond the borders of the Fire Nation, and punished severely if they returned.

"Then how is it you wound up here?" he finally asked.

"A fierce storm struck at sea, less than a day after we passed through the gates of Azulon. Only a handful of us survived," she recounted sorrowfully. "The second officer was a very kind man. He convinced the others to bear witness of my death to your father. Once presumed dead, I was free go, or stay, where I wished.

"This," she indicated the house with a wave her hand, "was my father's home. I couldn't stay here outright of course, lest it arouse suspicion. But I visit it frequently between trips to other towns where I sell my handiwork. I guess you could say its part of my rounds," she finished wryly, picking up the teapot to pour another cup and frowning when she realized it was empty.

"Would you like some more tea, dear?" she asked, getting up to fix another pot.

"Please," Zuko mumbled.

While Ursa busied herself on the other side of the kitchen, Zuko pulled out the small picture he'd found the previous day and stared at it broodingly, barely listening to his mother's idle musings.

"You know, your Uncle Iroh would be impressed," she was saying cheerfully, "this will be our fourth pot of tea!"

Coming back to the table to sit while the kettle warmed, Ursa noticed the dark expression on her son's face.

"Is something wrong?" she ventured.

"Mother, who is this?" he inquired suddenly, showing her the ink drawing, and tapping one finger on the teenaged fire bender. She smiled fondly as she took it.

"That's my father when he was a boy; your grandfather Kuzon." Still gazing at the portrait, she didn't see Zuko's eyes go wide with shock at the name, and she merely continued absently, "As for the other boy, Father was friends with a young air bender before the war…"

"Aang," interrupted Zuko softly.

"Yes," she looked up in mild, but pleased surprise. "How did you know?"

Zuko met her gaze with astonishing intensity as he answered, "Aang is the Avatar."

His revelation to Ursa was met with a curious response. She looked away almost guiltily, and handed the picture back to him. Her voice was subdued and curt.

"I see."

Taking the image, Zuko cocked his head and regarded her suspiciously, and when she caught his narrowed glance, Ursa heaved a slow sigh, as if mentally preparing herself for a potentially trying ordeal.

"Zuko," she began hesitantly, "There is something important I need to tell you…"


Sokka was sweating profusely, and not from the exertion of the complicated sword maneuver that he was learning. Huo hadn't said a word to him after their 'introduction', but the water tribe boy was certain saw a flash of recognition, shock even, on the older man's face. So he was pretty sure that it was just a matter of time before soldiers came and-

"Private Li!"

Sokka looked up from his training, Yep, there they are. Two armored guards strode up to the training ground.

"Commander Huo wishes to see you…immediately."

Handing his practice sword to his sparring partner, Sokka took a deep breath and headed toward the large tent with the soldiers flanking him ominously on either side. He did his best to try and look unconcerned as they escorted him inside.

Huo turned and regarded the three of them critically, then addressed the sentries.

"You two are dismissed."

They saluted crisply and left, leaving Sokka alone with the commander, who merely walked past the boy as if to follow the other two out. Sokka turned to watch as Huo waited at the tent flap for a moment before calmly fastening it securely shut. A heartbeat later, the commander whirled on him and began whispering angrily in his face.

"What do you think you are doing here!?" he demanded harshly. "Where is Prince Zuko? Is he alive? Is he safe?"

Sokka took a step back from the rapid assault of unusual questions. This wasn't exactly what he was expecting. He blinked several times in confusion before narrowing his eyes warily.

"Why should I tell you anything?" he asked with bold suspicion.

"Would you rather I reveal who you really are, Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe?" threatened Huo. "I can assure you it won't go over well. The Fire Nation doesn't take kindly to spies-"

"But I'm not a spy! I got drafted into this mess by accident!"

"Well," said Huo almost smugly, folding his arms over his chest as he straightened, "that answers my first question."

Sokka opened his mouth to protest, and then quickly snapped it shut again. Zuko always said he talked too much; maybe it was time to prove his friend wrong. This line of thought was apparently written all over Sokka's face, for Huo's expression softened somewhat.

"Look," he started reasonably, "You don't have very many options here. The Avatar's bison is halfway to the capital in chains, which means the chances of your friends sneaking you out in the middle of the night are slim. So if you want my help with leaving camp in one piece, you're going to have to trust me."

"Not until I know why you haven't already turned me in," the clever boy countered.

Huo didn't respond immediately. Instead, he walked over to the map behind his desk with his hands clasped behind his back.

"Because you aren't supposed to be here," he replied at length. "None of the boys in this camp should be here." He heaved slow sigh before continuing. "A century of war is hard on a nation, and most of us just want to see it ended…victory or not."

"But, the Fire Nation is winning," puzzled the warrior, "and with the comet coming this summer…"

"The Fire Lord will finally defeat the Earth Kingdom and the Water Tribes," Huo finished tiredly. He spun to face to Sokka. "And then what? The war would be over, but there wouldn't be peace. Those who we've conquered would still resist, and troops would have to remain scattered across the world trying to keep 'order'. More will be sent away…and they won't return.

"But there is hope for a better resolution, he continued surreptitiously. "If Ozai is defeated, there are many in the military and government who would support Prince Zuko's claim to the throne."

Sokka's brows knit together as he processed this information, comprehension slowly dawning on his face. He gasped as full realization struck him.

"You're planning a coup!"

"Yes," Huo smiled with approval at the boy's deductive skills. Then his face became grave once more as he added meaningfully, "But it will all be for nothing should some ill befall the Prince…which is why you must tell me where he is."

"I wish I knew,' Sokka admitted dejectedly, "we parted ways in Kazimizu. I don't know where he is."

"You let him go off on his own?" the commander exploded, only barely keeping his voice under control, lest it carry beyond the thick fabric walls of the tent. "Have you any idea what sort of price is on his head!"

"It was his idea!" defended the teen. "He's supposed to meet up with us in Port Shukumei. And uh….Appa wasn't really captured. That's a ruse." Noting Huo's confused expression, Sokka finished lamely, "It's a long story. But we're supposed to get him back in Port Shukumei too."

This seemed to placate the commander, for he relaxed and moved to sit down at his desk, the gears in his brain clicking as he took stock of the full situation. If the Avatar already had people on the inside, then maybe he could make all of this work to his, and their, advantage.

"Very well," he conceded finally. "I'll do what I can to get you out of the army before we reach Port Shukumei. In the meantime, just concentrate on your training, and tell no one what we have discussed…not even my son."

Sokka solemnly nodded his assent.

"You can go back to the others now."

With another nod, Sokka turned as was about to leave the tent when a curt 'ahem!' stopped him.

"And remember, Private Li, that while you are here I am your commanding officer."

"Oh! Right!"

Sokka spun and gave an absurdly serious salute, to which Huo merely shook his head dolefully and dismissed the boy with a wave of his hand.


Ursa didn't explain herself right away; instead, she bade Zuko to follow her as she went back out into the parlor and stood before the massive fireplace. In the pale light of day, and with the drape removed (thanks to Momo), Zuko could see the ornate details of the mantle.

Two dragons rode along the top cornice, their heads meeting in the middle, and supporting a round disk in their jaws. It was engraved with a white lotus pattern.

Without a word, Ursa placed her hand on the central carving and turned it to the right. This initiated a series of whirring and clicking that reverberated throughout the room before the whole back panel of the fireplace slid away with a large grinding sound to reveal a secret passage.

Zuko gasped, too stunned to even smack his forehead. He knew he was missing something!

He followed her into the passage, lighting the way as they went down a spiraling flight of stairs, and coming at last to a small room. Glowing, amber-colored stones placed at intervals along the walls provided them with enough light that Zuko could dismiss his flame.

What he saw in the room took his breath away. The most dominant feature was a large painting of Roku. But unlike all the other images he had ever seen of the erstwhile Avatar, which showed him in all his elemental glory, this was apparently a family portrait. Several other people were pictured there alongside him; an elderly woman who Zuko assumed was his wife, and a young couple holding a baby.

Before he had much time to wonder at who they were, something else in the chamber caught his eye. Resting on an intricately carved wooden stand was a sheathed pair of broadswords, not unlike his own, but of obviously superior quality.

Ursa walked over to them and lifted the scabbard from its resting place. When she drew the blades, the metal did not rasp against the sheath…it sang; a bell-like tone that filled the tiny space with dulcet power.

"I see you've learned to use broadswords," Ursa observed wryly, "so I want you to have these. They were my father's."

She slid the swords back into the scabbard, and he took it from her with great reverence.

"Then…those stories you used to tell me," he marveled haltingly, "about the Blue Spirit…"

"Were true. Well, they may have been embellished just a little," she admitted humorously, "but that would be because my father liked to spin a good tale. I only shared what he told me."

Zuko was beyond words, but the surprises weren't over yet. He watched in something like a daze as his mother walked over to the large portrait on the wall and ran a hand lovingly down its edge.

"Do you like the painting?" she asked.

Unsure how to answer, Zuko walked over to stand alongside her, looking at the image more critically than he had before. At last, he voiced his confusion.

"Why is it here?"

"This is your heritage, Zuko," she informed him quietly then lifted a hand to point at the various faces, starting with the youngest male pictured (the baby), and going up through the line. "Your grandfather, your great-grandfather for whom you were named, and your great-great-grandfather…"

"Avatar Roku?" whispered Zuko incredulously. He looked from the painting to his mother with wide, disbelieving eyes.

"No one in the royal family knows," she explained, correctly guessing at what he must be wondering. "Fire Lord Azulon might never have agreed to my marriage to your father otherwise. It's been a family secret for generations.

"This war is wrong, Zuko," she continued fervently, "It was wrong when Sozin started it, and it has to end. And nothing makes me more proud than to know you are working with the Avatar to do just that."

She reached up a hand to caress her son's scarred cheek. "There's just one more thing I want you to have."

Turning from him, she then picked up a small box from a nearby table, and opened it. Inside was the same hairpiece that Roku wore in the portrait, in every portrait Zuko had ever seen.

"This was given to Roku by your great-grandfather Sozin," she informed him. Seeing his shock, she let a sad smile flit across her features as she elaborated, "Yes, they were friends once, just as you and Aang are now. By every right, this belongs to you."

Zuko took the small object with trembling hands, and he could feel the spiritual energy emanating from it. Like a bolt of lightning, it hit him that the headpiece was still connected to Avatar Roku's spirit, and he remembered how Aang had told him that he'd invoked the spirit of Avatar Kyoshi once, simply by wearing her clothes. So if Aang had this, then maybe, just maybe

"I have to go," Zuko declared suddenly, "I have to get back to Aang! If I can find him before he gets to Port Shukumei, then maybe…" His voice trailed off as he looked to his mother with longing and sorrow. "I can't stay…"

She stepped forward and embraced him, holding him tightly as though she would never have the opportunity again. But when she drew back, she was smiling.

"We'll go to him together then."

Relief flooded Zuko's face. Not because he had found his mother, or that she was going to travel with him, but because now there was hope that Aang would not be the last Avatar. The prince's faith and confidence had been restored by what he'd learned, and now he intended to the same…for his friend.

fin


Author's note:
This may be the last 'episode' I plan to write but it is not the end of this story! There is still more to come, so stay tuned for future postings in a different format.

Also, I still intend to honor my promise to pick one reviewer of this 'episode' to select any scene from the series for me to illustrate for them. BUT, in addition to that, I want to hear from all of you what your favorite scene from THIS 'episode' was, and whichever one is mentioned the most, I will do a picture of that as well.

Oh, and just to share a bit of humor and insight into the ending here, believe it or not, way back when I was writing 'Threads of Fate', I had it in my head that Zuko would be Roku's descendant. But I axed the idea for fear that it would be too far-fetched, and opted to have Zuko be related to Kuzon instead.

Needless to say, I practically fell off the couch when I watched 'The Avatar and the Fire Lord' for the first time! Apparently, my original idea wasn't so crazy after all. Go figure! Of course by then, I'd already laid the groundwork for the Zuko/Kuzon thing, and I debated whether or not I should just stay with that, or try to work my initial concept back in somehow.

In the end, the fact that it was actually canon was just too good to pass up, so here it is...in a slightly different form (Zuko is Roku's great-great-grandson, instead of his great-grandson). But admittedly, the Roku headpiece thing I took from the show. It was too perfect not too. So that, and only that, was taken from canon. The rest of it was just freaky coincidence of my idea being in line with the canon.

The same goes for Ursa's banishement. I always suspected that was what had happened to her, and I felt very justified when I watched 'Day of Black Sun' and saw it confirmed. It still feels weird to know that I guessed correctly on these things, and I do wish I could have published them before they were revealed on the show, so it wouldn't seem like I was copying from it, but that's just the way it goes, I guess. Jungian Theory for the win!

Anyway, please be sure to hit the review button and let me know what you think (as well as what scene from this 'episode' you'd most like me to draw!)!