Chapter Six: Interlude

In the darkness, Iroh listened to his brother sleep.

It reminded him of a different time, when they were both so young and innocent. Their souls were pure and unmarred by the world, and the world still unknowing of what they were to become. The future looked simple then.

He remembered meeting his brother for the first time, having already decided to hate the child for taking away their mother. Yes, Fire Lady Ilah had died for him, and there that selfish creature was, sleeping as if nothing had happened.

The crown prince's feet step softly onto the wooden floor. He waited to hear the monster's breathing before approaching him.

His mother was gone, and it was all that thing's fault.

His father, always a stone like man, had shut himself in his room and had not come out since.

He glared at the child's peaceful face. What had father named him?

Ozai.

Destruction.

As he looked upon the newborn, he contemplated how easy it would be to take revenge. For himself and his father. His hands were small in comparison to a man's, but they still held strength to strangle the soft fleshy neck of an infant.

He could do it.

And it would be justified.

Just as the prince was about to make his dreadful decision, a small sound arose from the crib. The skin on Iroh's neck jumped as he realized Ozai was awake. The two brothers stared at each other, their golden eyes identical to their mother's. Iroh was startled to see his mother in the baby, as if her spirit had entered him and was now watching him.

The baby squirmed, wanting to touch Iroh's robes. The crown prince moved away in disgust and Ozai fell to his weak struggles, unable to even turn himself.

Iroh considered revenge again.

Do it. You have the right to.

His hands hovered over Ozai, ready for the kill. He frowned, hesitating for a moment as those golden eyes watched him. Suddenly, the infant grabbed Iroh's fingers and squealed in delight. Its small fingers could barely encircle a finger, yet it held on tightly with a surprising grip. New life flowed through the infant into the tiny fist it made.

The corners of Iroh's lips twitched into an unwilling smile. In response, Ozai spread his toothless mouth in imitation.

No, he could not kill his brother. Revenge would not bring his mother back.

There was a light snoring and Ozai shifted in his sleep, frowning. He mumbled and curled into a tight ball.

Iroh sighed, feeling guilt weigh upon his conscience. It was his fault that Ozai's light had disappeared.

As a young boy, Ozai had been similar to Zuko in many ways. Hot headed, quick to anger, but ultimately kind under his arrogant exterior. Even if he had been rejected by his father, he continually sought his approval and had pushed himself to the brink in training. Still, Azulon would not look at him, and still Ozai would try harder.

Iroh had been spared Azulon's coldness and a small seed of resentment had been planted in Ozai's heart.

They both came of age, Iroh becoming betrothed and married to a nobleman's daughter. Soon Ozai followed after, and that was where things truly fell apart.

Iroh loved his wife and son, they were his joy in life. Yet he felt an incompleteness whenever he laid down at night after a day in the battlefield. He wondered what this hole was, but dismissed it as he had everything he could ever want.

He returned home for a holiday, Ozai greeted him with enthusiasm, asking of his conquests and groaning in jealousy, dearly wishing that he could leave the palace as well. Behind him stood a slim young girl, whose eyes were downcast and lips upturned into a demure smile. Noticing Iroh's interest, Ozai introduced her as his betrothed, Ursa.

When their eyes met, Iroh felt the pieces connect and a surge of dumbfounded elation rush through him. He had fallen in love with her the very moment they met.

And their betrayal had been what had finally broken Ozai.

It had gone on for years, their affair secret and forbidden. The only hint of their love to outsiders had been a small locket hidden in the sash of their robes. When Azula began to show signs of her genius, Ozai had burst in on them, proud of his child and ready to boast as the two ripped themselves away from each other a moment too late.

His words of praise died on his lips and a frown replaced it.

"How could you?" he had asked, his voice deadly quiet.

Their affair was another reason why Ozai had despised Zuko so much, despite the fact that they were clearly father and son. Zuko idolized Iroh too much, loved Iroh too much, just as his mother did. Though Ozai questioned the legitimacy of both his children, Azula at least could serve a purpose in his revenge.

The fallen Fire Lord's eyes opened and glared into the darkness. His traitorous brother was there again, watching him in pity. He did not need his pity and it burned to feel that gaze upon him. It burned more to know that he had lost and Iroh had won.

As always.

"Are you awake brother?" Iroh's deep voice came through the bars.

Ozai did not answer.

The older man sighed, "I've brought you dinner. It is your favorite, curry rice."

The delicious scent of the curry wafted over to him and his stomach tightened in response. But he would not let Iroh trick him.

He sneered, "Get that peasant sludge away from me."

Iroh was silent. Ozai listened for a reaction, but all he could here was the small sound of the plate being pushed through the bars and soft footsteps walking away.

Ooo

Author's Note: A small piece of Ozai's history. I was watching the Beach and it came to me that they looked pretty darn happy. Which means Ozai couldn't be as evil as all these other fanfictions make him out to be, I mean, he was building sandcastles with Zuko after all. So what made him turn? What made him into the power hungry monarch we know and love? I also added curry rice, because I'm eating curry rice and it is awesome. Yay I'm Korean. (I realize that it's originally Indian, but East Asians have bastardized it into something that is equally delicious. I've never actually tried Indian Curry rice. Tried Thai though, very sweet.)

Oh and some more countries: Germany, France, Mexico, Philippines, Poland, Malaysia, Jamaica, Hungary, Venezuela.

Most are from the US though, but I would love to hear from you guys. Smiley face.

Oh, I'm done with finals now. Aint that awesome? I guess "a while" in my book is like a couple days. Although normally I spend longer writing chapters, I was really inspired for this one. And it's super short anyway. Hee hee.

Read and Review. When we hit 30 reviews, I'll do a super bonanza chapter (20 Pages, seriously) to celebrate.

Rating may go up in the future, sorry kiddies.