"That is all I can hope for, Father. I will not fail you."

The few moments of silence between her father's words and her grandfather's response gave Azula some time to comprehend what she had just learned; Lu Ten was dead, and just thinking of the very fact made her want to scream. She wanted to demand her grandfather have Ba Sing Se burnt to the ground to avenge the death of his eldest grandchild, but she knew that would be gravely inappropriate and stepping out of line. That didn't mean she didn't want to; she was so tempted to say something, but she held her tongue. Her father would not tolerate such an outburst, perhaps more than the man whose actual authority would be threatened by the words she desired to utter. So she kept silent, and quickly enough, Fire Lord Azulon raised his hand up to dismiss them.

"Leave now, I have other matters to attend to." he told his son, who rose up to his feet; Azula refused to look her father in the eye, knowing that being dismissed by his father was going to make him angry- she was sure, however, his emotions did not compare her own.

She was just far better at hiding them, and he didn't utter a word as he turned his heels, his two children both rising to their feet. Her brother was more than distressed by the turn of events, and unlike herself, was no good at hiding it. She would have felt a tinge of sympathy, but the very fact he looked at her with suspicion suggested he thought she mightn't even care. She did, but she wasn't going to make her face falter, not while her father might notice. She straightened her lips, and narrowed her eyes at her brother, snarling her lips to stress the demand which she uttered as quietly as she could.

"Stop looking at me, Zuzu." she demanded of him, before turning her gaze ahead, refusing to look his way; he was going to make father think they were both weaklings, instead of just himself.

She couldn't be weak, not when everything had just become so different in the span of a single conversation; her grandfather had said it himself: Zuko was now expected to become the Fire Lord some day, and her father before him. She tried to ignore that indirect snub from her grandfather; he was simply too old and narrow-minded to consider her potential as a monarch. Being the Fire Lord was the furthest thing from her mind; the only thing she could picture in her mind was her cousin's warm smile that he had made as he waved her goodbye, leaving the palace that afternoon. She wished she had won that spar against him; maybe he might have been more cautious, and then at the very least, he might have survived the battle. He was good, and like everything good, he was taken away from her, without her really even having a chance to appreciate it.

Despite being a Princess, and thus, one of the most powerful people in the world, not even considering her bending, she had little good, or niceness in her life. Her father was always looming over her, demanding the best of her; she tried so hard, and she did succeed, but that success came at a cost. She was growing frustrated and even bored of her training, and though she wanted more than anything to impress her father, she knew that she couldn't do it forever. She had wanted to serve in the army, with her cousin, once she was old enough, but now that he was dead, there was no hope of that. She had only an empty courtyard and an understandably sad uncle to look forward to.

"Cousin didn't deserve that." she heard her brother mumble, the Princess forcing her lips straight; she agreed with him wholeheartedly, but she couldn't utter a word, not with her father's dagger eyes pointed right toward them.

"Be quiet." he demanded with a cold, disdainful voice, "I will not have you snivelling." he demanded of him, quietly enough that nobody else could hear him, "People die, Prince Zuko. I thought you already understood that." he reminded him, the Princess's eyes widening upon realising what he was actually talking about; it wasn't Lu Ten, but their dead mother, whose name she had never even heard her father utter.

Azula's expression faltered upon realising what her father's words implied; by not even saying anything about Lu Ten, he was saying that Zuko was wrong- if Zuko was wrong, then Lu Ten deserved to die. She clenched her fists, and grit her teeth, which were hidden behind her straightened lips. Her father wasn't looking their way, and a moment later, Zuko responded to their father's chiding, with an eerily cold and hateful voice.

"This isn't fair." he snarled, his eyes momentarily meeting Azula's, before they both turned ahead; she agreed with him, but she was guessing his idea of what was being 'unfair' was a little different to her own.

She looked at her father, who seemed more angry about his father's words than any of the news they had learned; he didn't care about Lu Ten, who was his own nephew. If Zuko or Azula died, Iroh would be devastated; she knew that if she and her brother felt the same about their cousin's death, then their father was outnumbered- he couldn't be right. She was told her entire life that her father was right and a smart, righteous man, even by her tutors; she couldn't believe that now, she refused to. She did not hate him, because she had no reason to, but she certainly did not like him. She could not like a man who dismissed her cousin's death like it was nothing.

Lu Ten had been more of a brother to her than Zuko ever would be, and perhaps, more of a brother to him than she'd be a sister to him; she didn't feel regret over that, but more distaste. Her father thought Zuko was weak, but if she felt the exact same way, if not worse about her cousin's demise, then there were two possibilities. Either she was weak as well, or her father was misguided; she didn't want to call him wrong, because she knew that strength was right, but his strength was not the same as her own. When the doors of the throne room were closed behind them, her father turned around and glanced at them both.

"I'm going to do my training. I want you both at dinner, on time." he told them, before turning his heels, and striding away.

She could hear her brother take a deep breath out, and then he turned around, presumably to head off to somewhere where he could sob alone. Though part of her told her it was a stupid idea, she knew she had to address the matter at hand; she couldn't lie about it, because she knew that if she was right, there was no need to lie.

"Zuko." she addressed him by his actual name, her brother stopping his movements to turn around and side-eye her.

"What?" he growled at her, obviously not in the mood to chat.

"You're right." she simply told him, his eyes widening.

"W-wait... what?" he looked at her, genuinely seemingly aghast at the suggestion she was taking his side.

"Lu Ten didn't deserve to die." she declared, before striding past him, stopping so she could look him in the eye, "He would have been a good Fire Lord."

"He could stop us fighting." her brother simply observed, before narrowing his eyes at her, "You-" he began, before turning away, "Never mind." he mumbled with an annoyed voice, turning around.

"I know you're angry, Zuzu." she noted, before stepping closer, "Maybe that's a good thing." she suggested, "You need something to power your firebending."

"He said anger makes us weak." he reminded her, the Princess narrowing her eyes.

"And what did Dad say?"

"That I'm weak." he answered with a dejected voice.

"Well, I'm sure you'll be a great Fire Lord then." she joked, which didn't seem to amuse him in the slightest.

"Shut up." he demanded of her, before stomping off with clenched fists.

She only made the joke because she wanted to try and lighten the mood, but it seemed she had no chance of that to begin with; she turned around, and knew she had to go to her room. Her thoughts couldn't be contained in her body much longer; she was good at hiding it, but she was struggling more than ever. Azula paced as fast as she could down the hallway back toward her bedroom; she knew that was the only place she could hide, and she would do just that. She couldn't let out her feelings while there were guards at every corner, and servants whose lips were only held shut until some coins came their way. If she misbehaved, Ozai would find out, so she didn't. Remaining silent, she strode as fast as possible, turning around corners with haste, making sure to keep a careful eye ahead of her, so she didn't run into anyone; that would be woefully embarrassing.

When she reached the door of her bedroom, she pulled it open, before slamming it shut behind her; she didn't climb onto her bed, or sit on her desk. Her knees quivered, and she let herself acknowledge the fact for what it was; Lu Ten was dead, and there was no getting him back. She could never spar with him again, nor look to him for advice or comfort, no matter whether it was called for or not. She slowly dropped down to her knees, her breathing becoming erratic. She didn't know what to do; she had never had to deal with anything like what she was presently facing. She had been born and her mother had died, but that had no emotional significance to her, even if she longed for a mother. She knew she could never have one, so she settled for a cousin who actually could treat her like she wished her brother would. The world wasn't going to be that kind, however, and took it away from her.

Finding no other way to express her anguish, she clenched her fists, and hammered them into the glossy, immaculate looking floor, which shimmered from the light of the hallway behind her. The world hadn't taken her cousin away, that was just a stupid, mystical way of putting it; fate had nothing to do with it, but with the fact he had served his country, and paid the ultimate price. The dirt-eating savages had killed him, and it was a wonder they hadn't killed her uncle either. She hated the very idea that they were even capable of it; her cousin was a great firebender, and noble, dignified warrior- he would not fall easily, and the suggestion that he could even be defeated made her quiver with fear. She was going to serve her country someday, and perhaps, the savages would try to kill her too.

She wondered what her father might think, if she befell the same fate of her cousin; his uncaring attitude and heartless platitudes stoked a fear far greater than one of an untimely death. She wanted to be the best daughter she could be, so she could honour her family and most importantly, be a worthy successor of her father, who was now destined to become the Fire Lord. She wondered if in the case she died, he'd be as unfazed as he had been with Lu Ten; maybe he'd only be annoyed, because he'd have Zuko as his heir- he thought he was incompetent, and her brother knew it.

She raised her hands to her face, remembering what her cousin had told her; that her father wasn't always right, and that his way of seeing things couldn't be the absolute truth. She wanted to believe it was, that her brother was a weakling and Lu Ten was too; that'd make things so much easier. But she would hate herself for thinking that; her cousin deserved so much better, and her uncle did too. She hammered her hands into the ground once again, wanting to scream; why her cousin had died, instead of some other soldier, someone without a face or name to her, she didn't know why.

Perhaps it was just destiny, that she was set to become the Fire Lord, and her cousin's very existence stood in the way of that; she hated the idea, even if she truly wished to serve her country in that manner. She wanted him to live, she wanted him to guide her, to be the brother she could never have otherwise. She wished her uncle could have done something, but she didn't blame him; it was the Earth Kingdom who killed him, not her uncle, who was only doing what was vested upon him to do- he succeeded, and yet he lost so much.

She heard a knock on her door, and Azula raised her head up, wiping the tears from her cheeks, "Your highness, are you alright?" she heard the voice of a servant, sounding rather concerned, if not nervous.

The Princess stood up, and quickly wiped her face, hoping to get rid of the wetness made by her tears; she then pulled the door open, and narrowed her eyes at the servant, who stood taller than her, but seemed intimidated by her cold glare, "You heard nothing." she demanded of her.

She nodded, and gulped with fear, "My apologies, your highness." she bowed toward her, "You were simply doing your studies." she made an excuse, the Princess nodding.

"Yes, yes I was." she agreed to her lie, before closing the door.

She took a deep breath, and glanced back over toward her bed; she didn't know if sleeping would help, but it might at the very least be better than sobbing on the floor. If she was going to wallow in her own weakness, she preferred to do it in a comfortable place. Azula strode over, and crawled onto the bed, laying herself down with her face on the mattress, glancing out toward the curtains of her window, where small shimmers of light entered her bedroom.

She didn't know how long she would lie there for, but ultimately that didn't matter; sobbing about her cousin would not bring him back, and neither could anything else. The least she could do was remember, and at least hope that the future might be kinder to her; for all his talk of her luck, Azula knew her father couldn't be right about its value. There was no luck in reaching the top of the pile when everyone in your way befell horrible, undeserved fates.


Not being recognised as the Fire Lord was probably the best thing that had happened to Iroh all week, but that was about it when it came to things he could say he was happy about; of course, the Earth Kingdom farmers who had given him refuge were kind and helpful people, but his presence had put their lives in danger. He was far happier to be putting their farm behind him and heading in the direction of Omashu; that was where he would need to go to meet with Bumi, and quickly organise the Order of the White Lotus together.

They had to be assembled to deal with the threat that Ozai faced to the world; there would not be peace until he righted the wrongs of his ancestors, and he would have no chance of doing that if his brother had his way. He did not know how deep his brother's conspiracy ran, but from how his nephew had spoken of it, he assumed that a large number of officers and other officials in the military and government were associated with his practical coup.

Before Iroh could even consider facing his brother, he had to get away from the assassins, who were probably still looking for him; he had no idea if they had withdrawn or had decided to keep following after his men, knowing that there was a reasonable chance he might have gone after them to find safety. Though he did wish he could do that, he knew his presence would clearly put their lives in danger, and it would be far safer to continue toward Omashu alone, and once there, work to contact his allies and perhaps gather anyone loyal to his cause. Most importantly, he had to make sure his niece didn't do anything horrible with Avatar, and ensure that Zuko got away from his father; if he remained in the capital, there was a reasonable chance Ozai would have him imprisoned, or even worse, have him assassinated, just as he had desired to do Iroh.

He knew that his thoughts were all over the place, and that he really ought to be focusing on gathering any resources and information he could. The peasant man who had fed and housed him the night prior, called Sung, had given him a lot of information about the local area, enough to tell him where he needed to go. The village he was walking through was called Dajiliu, and for the most part, it seemed peaceful enough; though it was near the Fire Nation port he had sent his men toward, it didn't seem to be presently be under occupation, though he assumed that had less to do with the Fire Nation's authority and more with the fact the front-line was located far closer to Omashu. Avoiding his subjects was a decision he had made to ensure their safety; he didn't want to be assisted by some soldiers, only for them to be attacked, and perhaps killed, by the assassins his brother had sent after him.

The people around him didn't seem that suspicious; he'd gotten a change of clothes from Sung, which were a little tight on him, but were better than his burnt and tattered royal robes, which he assumed might rouse some suspicion from anybody who paid close enough attention to them. He'd let his hair out, and took upon himself the appearance of a raggedy traveller, hoping his appearance of poverty might ensure nobody was suspicious of him. So far, he hadn't talked to anybody, other than to ask for directions to the market; he had been given a few spare coins by Sung, but they wouldn't last him long. He hoped that he could buy at least a little food, before he had to consider working for some unsuspecting farmers to get some coins.

As he made his way through the market, he looked around for food, but was unable to find many things that would be of use to him. He could buy raw vegetables and meats, but he'd have a struggle doing much with them, given he didn't have any way to cook them other than his firebending. He guessed he could do just that, but he would prefer to find something a little more straightforward for him to eat, if he could find it.

Suddenly, somebody bumped into his shoulder; he noted it was a teenage boy, and he was eyeing him down, which was never a good sign, "What are you looking at, old man?" he asked him accusingly, the Fire Lord's posture softening; he didn't want to intimidate anybody, which he doubted he was doing anyway, given his appearance.

"Uh, something to eat." he answered candidly, making the teenager snicker, amused by his bluntness.

"I guess you're not from around here." he observed, before gesturing ahead down through the market, "There's a noodle stall down that way."

"Thank you, young man. Your directions have saved me some time." he smiled at him, the teenage boy awkwardly scratching the back of his head.

"Uh, that's fine." he tried to play down his actions, before turning his heels, continuing on his way, "Have a good day, sir."

With those helpful directions, Iroh quickly made his way over to the noodle stall, which had a line of three in front of him. He saw that they looked nice enough, and more importantly, were hot. He'd enjoyed some rice gruel for breakfast, before he left Sung's family farm, but he was sure the noodles would be the last thing he'd eat that night. He didn't have enough money to spare to go around getting himself a full meal.

"Wow!" he heard somebody cry out, and then he noticed that people were turning their gazes around behind him.

He did the same, and his jaw dropped as he immediately recognised what he was looking at; the Avatar's sky-bison was flying right over the village, some distance above them, but it was clearly distinguishable with its six legs and cream-coloured fur.

"The Avatar!" he heard a few people at different moments call out the same thing; they obviously saw what he was seeing, proving that he wasn't deluded from fatigue and hunger.

"Oh..." he gasped, realising that if the Avatar was right above him, his niece couldn't be too far away, "Azula." he whispered her name, smiling at he said it; he hoped he could see her sooner rather than later, but he knew that putting her life in danger was well and truly worse than simply doing the same for some Fire Nation soldiers he might happen to run into.

He missed her after all her months away, and he knew that he might have to stay away from her, at least for her own safety. She realised that she might be coming his way, or worse, looking for his would-be assassins. For all he knew, the world might think him to be dead, even if it had only been two days; people loved to come to conclusions, especially when it came to such dramatic news. He turned back around, knowing that he couldn't do much but continue what he was doing, and hope that fate might keep his niece on her journey, and not rushing into his arms. He waited in line, and listened in to what the villagers ahead of him were talking about; unsurprisingly, it all had to do with the sky-bison that had just flown over the village.

"Wow, the Avatar... in our village." one man exclaimed, "That's gotta be some kind of luck."

"I wish he'd stopped here, that would have been great. I've always wanted to meet an Avatar." another man told him, raising his hands up, "And an Air Nomad. Nobody's seen one of those in a hundred years."

"Maybe the Fire Nation is chasing him." a woman turned around to face them, "That's that opposite of good luck. If they come here thinking he's been here, they might turn the whole village upside down."

"The Fire Nation like to act tough, but I haven't seen them do anything other than ask for their stupid taxes." the first man argued, "I doubt they'd attack us."

"They've attacked a lot of villages. That's pretty arrogant of you to say." the woman argued, "We're just lucky the Earth Kingdom army abandoned ours without a fight."

"They were just more worried about kissing the King of Omashu's toes than doing their jobs." the second man argued, before grimacing, "I heard he's really old... so that doesn't sound very nice."

Iroh snickered at the mention of King Bumi's toes; he was sure that nobody in their right mind would want to go anywhere near the foot of a highly muscular and powerful earthbender, no matter how old he happened to be. That caught the villagers' attention, and he cringed slightly, realising that they were all looking at him.

"You think the King's got gross toes?" the villager asked Iroh, who shook his head, not agreeing with their presumptions.

"I've heard he's a master earthbender. Going near his feet is not a good idea."

"Where'd you hear that?" the woman asked him, "He's really old. I doubt any old guy could lift a rock."

"Oh, you'd be surprised." Iroh noted, knowing for a fact with his own late father that age and bending powers didn't correlate very well; though he never imagined himself fighting Fire Lord Azulon, he was sure it would be a terrible idea- there was reason Ozai had named his daughter after him, other than the obvious toe-kissing it was.

"What, can you bend anything? You look pretty on the old side yourself." one of the men prodded him, making Iroh laugh.

"No, no." he assured him, a straight lie, but it sounded convincing enough, "I can make a good cup of tea, though."

"Now, that's a brag if I've ever heard one." the man crossed his arms, leaning over to the other, who he presumed to be his friend, "Do you this homeless guy can make tea?"

"I'm not homeless." Iroh assured him, "I simply am a humble traveller." he assured him, "But if you want to test my tea-making skills, please, give me a pot and some tea leaves. I'm sure we could have a great conversation." he suggested, making the man chuckle.

"You wanna talk to me?" he almost scoffed, "What's interesting about me?"

"I don't know, but I'm sure there's something. Everybody's got their own paths, and you're on your own. I don't know what it is, but I'm sure you might."

"Huh... I guess I do." he raised a finger to his chin, surprised by his words, "I never thought I'd talk to a random old guy at the noodle stall."

"Where would you expect it?" the woman asked him, amused by his suggestion.

"I don't know. At a shrine or something. You know, sages and gurus, that kind of stuff." he admitted, before eyeing Iroh, "You seem like a worldly guy."

"Well, I've seen a lot in my years." he admitted, before narrowing his eyes, "Though, I think I still have much to learn."

"Excuse me, are you going to take your noodles or what?" he heard somebody speak up, the Fire Lord tilting his head to notice that the woman had yet to collect her noodles; she turned around, and her expression turned to one of surprise.

"Oh, I apologise." she tilted her head down, "I just got distracted by the sky-bison, that's all." she admitted, before taking the bowl into her hands, "Thanks."

"No problem, Ling." the stall-owner simply acknowledged her, before eyeing the two men, "Are you two buying together or separately?"

One of them stepped forward, "I'm buying for myself, not this idiot." he argued, making the other man snidely glare at him.

"Come on, that was uncalled for." he crossed his arms, making the other snicker.

"Yeah, whatever." he dismissed his words, before he eyed behind Iroh, "Huh... those are some weird looking soldiers." he mumbled, the Fire Lord's eyes widening.

Turning around, he noted that there were half a dozen of the assassins standing in the market, half of them and the other half unarmed, presumably firebenders; the fact the mind-explosion firebender wasn't there was a great relief to Iroh, but it didn't make the situation any better. However, their eyes turning to Iroh specifically told him his disguise didn't work that well.

"Well, crap." he mumbled, before one of them stepped forward, pointing toward the Fire Lord.

"Get him!" he commanded their comrades, who firebent right toward the Dragon of the West; he took a deep breath, before he thrust his hands forward, creating a wall of flames which towered between him and his attackers, narrow enough that it avoided burning any of the stalls or nearby market-goers.

He immediately turned around and grimaced, "Well, I guess I won't be having noodles today." he dejectedly acknowledged, before glancing up the street, noting it was clear enough.

The people surrounding him were currently confused and shocked by what they had just seen, before he decided to reveal his identity in the most extreme way possible. He spun his hands around, sparks coursing between his fingers, before he channeled the energy out of his left hand, striking the ground in front of the assassins, throwing them off their feet. He took a deep breath, realising that he ought to avoid lightning generation, lest he exhaust himself and leave himself open to attack.

"My apologies." he simply addressed the market-goers, "I'll get out of your hairs now." he explained, one of the men he had been talking to pointing toward him with a shocked face.

"That's not just some old guy, that's the Dragon of the West!" he accused him, making the Fire Lord chuckle, before he dashed forward, running as fast as his feet could take him, hoping to draw the assassins out of the village as quickly as he could.

"The Avatar and the Fire Lord in one day! We must be real lucky!" one of the villagers proclaimed; the other villager's terrified faces suggested they didn't agree with the luck part of his statement- it was sure a surprise for them, but they were not lucky to be in Iroh's presence.

A few moments later he heard the sound of one of the assassins shout out an order, "Don't just sit on your arses! Kill him!"

Iroh weaved down under a fire stream that was sent his way, before dispersing a fire whip that came right at his head; he then made a small fire blast, conserving his energy as he struck one of the assassins in the head, throwing him down to the ground. He then stepped out of the way of another fire blast, countering the attack with his own, hitting one of the assassins in the chest. One of the charged at him with a sword, and though the wielder seemed to have some skill with the weapon, Iroh's firebending was faster; two bolts of fire to his shins and a fist to the gut, he was able to disarm his opponent before he threw his sword away.

"You really must be getting paid a lot if you're willing to get beat up this often." he noted, before crouching under another fire stream sent his way; he kicked the man he'd just disarmed in the leg, making him fall over and form an incidental roadblock to slow down his comrades' pursuit of the Fire Lord, who decided at that moment to make a break to escape the market and the danger posed to him.

He continued to run up through the village, hoping that he could at least fight the assassins somewhere further afield, where he wouldn't be putting the safety of innocents in danger. He grunted as a fireball struck his back, though he was quick enough to pat out the flames before they consumed his robes. He couldn't lose his new outfit, not after all the goodwill he had received from that Earth Kingdom family. He turned around, and sighed, seeing two more swordsmen running after him; he hoped his attackers had some coins on them- at the very least, that might make up for his lack of lunch.

"Today just isn't my day."


"Oh, Prince Zuko, dinner is not ready yet."

Zuko tensed up, and glanced toward the table before him; he knew he ought to be punctual in arriving for dinner, as his father would surely chide him if he dared to be late. He knew that he might have something to say.

"My father will be here soon. I want to be able to greet him." he lied, the servant smiling at him.

"How kind of you, your highness." he commended his efforts, before turning his gaze around, "I will head to the kitchen and tell the cooks to hurry up. It would be a great shame for a Prince to go hungry."

"Thank you." he smiled at him, genuinely appreciative of the servant's diligence, "Please, I won't keep you. Go do what you must." he gestured over to the kitchen.

"Would you like some water? Tea, perhaps?" he asked, the Prince raising his chin up.

"Just some water would be fine." he decided, the servant bowing toward him.

"I'll retrieve it at once." he assured him, before turning his heels, pacing over toward the nearby kitchen.

The Prince strode over toward the table, and sat at the seat to the right of where he knew his father would be sitting. Azula would usually sit across from him, but she had been gone for months, and Zuko was glad for it. Being able to sit down and eat dinner without her making faces at every remark their father made about him was surely a blessing from the spirits, if they happened to be that considerate of his grievances.

His mind turned back to what he would soon have to face; his father, Prince Ozai, had been in meetings with the war council all afternoon, and he guessed there might be some news about his uncle. He was hoping that he was alright, but he wasn't going to doubt his father's choice with assassins; he didn't seem like the kind of person to leave a job unfinished, even if he wasn't the one out there trying to kill his brother.

The whole idea disturbed Zuko greatly, and he hoped that his father failed; every failure would get Iroh closer to the capital, and to reclaiming his power, and presumably, dealing with Ozai directly. In the case his father really did achieve his goal, then the Prince might have to reconsider his place in the capital; it wouldn't be safe for him, or Mai either, given her role in his machinations. He knew that soon enough, he would have to make a choice; he could leave the capital, and with it, any hope of getting more intelligence about his father's operations.

In that scenario, he would lose any way to effectively assist his uncle, in the case a more public fight began between the Fire Lord and his younger brother. The other option was remaining as long as he could, and hopefully figuring out exactly what his father desired to do, and thus find a way to stop him with as few casualties and danger as possible.

His chain of thought was interrupted by the servant coming back into the room with a ceramic jug of water, "My apologies, your highness. The water wasn't where I expected it to be."

"It's fine." he raised a hand, stressing that he really wasn't fussed by it; the servant stepped over toward him, and leaned forward, pouring the water into the cup in front of him.

"Thank you." he gave the servant a curt smile, which made the man a little nervous; perhaps he wasn't very used to people in the palace being sincerely kind with him- generals and ministers were rather cocky and arrogant individuals, from what he understood.

Once the water poured for him, he picked up the cup, and took a sip from it; the liquid was cool and crisp, and helped him cool down. He'd just been doing some firebending training, and had exhausted himself thoroughly, though he'd washed up quickly afterwards, before getting into his royal robes. He sighed after it, and placed it down on the table; he glanced around, hearing the doors to the dining room open. His father was standing at the doorway, eyeing his son with suspicion.

"Prince Zuko, you were early." he observed, almost holding back a laugh, "How was your training?"

"It went well, Father." he simply responded, not wanting to go into any details; he didn't have Azula to compare to, so he guessed the conversation on firebending would be rather curt, "I hope my tutor lets me begin more advanced sets when I show him my bending."

"Master Longchi." Ozai referred to his tutor by name, "He's not holding you back, is he?" he asked, the Prince shaking his head.

"He's stern and calculated. I have learned much under his tutelage." he explained, not wanting to directly refute his father, who nodded, before he strode over to his seat.

"Water." the elder Prince simply asked the servant, who strode over to the table, picking up the jug, and poured some of the cool liquid into his cup.

"Were your meetings productive, Father?" Zuko decided to ask him, hoping that they might at the very least have a productive dinner table conversation; it was better to gather some more information than just awkwardly sit there and answer his father's carefully worded questions.

"Fine." he narrowed his eyes, "I have yet to hear what has happened with the Fire Lord." he explained; his referral to his brother by his title suggested that Ozai was yet to think himself the Fire Lord, even if he, by fact, held all of Iroh's authority while he was not present in the capital, "The Fire Navy are searching for those who dared to attack the leader of our nation. It would be a disgrace if they weren't caught."

"Yes, it would be." Zuko noted, his straight face and serious tone disguising his fear; he knew there were many dangers that came with his father's assassins going after his uncle, the most obvious being the threat to Iroh's life.

If the assassins were in contact with his father, if they recovered Mai's letter to his uncle, he was a dead man, that was certain; he knew that was a clear possibility, and that was why he was already beginning to consider his need to leave the capital, perhaps permanently. Permanently in the sense that he couldn't reasonably return until his father was removed from power; he didn't know if it would be Iroh doing that or somebody else.

There was a possibility that with his return, the Avatar might play a role in fighting his father, especially if Ozai's plans became public knowledge; if anybody was not going to tolerate his father's actions against the Earth Kingdom, it was the one person whose people had experienced exactly what he sought to enact. He didn't know what was going on with Azula's mission, but he assumed she was already going after him; it was only a matter of time before she fought the Avatar, and he had a feeling she might be victorious. That would be terrible news, for a variety of reasons, the most pressing of which being that the Avatar's imprisonment would give his father good reason to demote Zuko from his birthright and make his sister Crown Princess, assuming that Iroh was believed to be dead.

"It's no worry, Prince Zuko. Those criminals will soon be brought to justice." he assured him with a smug look on his face, "My daughter might even strike them down herself."

"She's..." he began, before turning his eyes away, "Is she going to assist Uncle?"

"As the most capable person in his general vicinity, I assume she would be elated to take the honour of serving her Fire Lord." he noted, "What a shame that you couldn't go off... seeing how worried you are your uncle." he acknowledged with a seemingly sympathetic face, though he was certain it was not sympathy he was feeling.

Zuko felt like screaming with fear, knowing that his father's words were a blunt acknowledgement his treacherous actions; he knew that his son knew, and that's why he was willing to say what he had- it was a disguised threat, and a good one at that. Only those that knew what had actually happened to his uncle would have any idea of Ozai's true intentions. He had sent men to kill his brother, and acted like he felt bad for Zuko; he hadn't felt anywhere near as considerate when his cousin had actually died, so he knew it was a lie. Ozai was nowhere near as good as lying as Azula was, no matter how skilled he was at politicking and intrigue.

"I wish I could serve my nation as she has." he admitted, his words only half a lie.

He wanted to help Iroh, but he didn't know how to in a way that wouldn't put himself in mortal danger; Azula, on the other hand, had the great advantage of being as far from their father as she could be.

"Perhaps you can, Prince Zuko." Ozai suggested; if it weren't for what he knew, he might have thought that his father was genuinely considering his capabilities, but he knew he was just mocking him- he wanted to prod him into reacting, into revealing himself, but he couldn't.

"I will, Father." he agreed with his proposition, "When my time comes, I am sure I will." he reaffirmed his point, which made his father smirk slightly.

"Has Master Longchi spoken of lightning generation yet?"

"Only off-handedly." he clarified, "He doesn't think I'm ready."

"I'd like to disagree with your master, my son." he decided, rather surprisingly, raising a hand up, "You've shown you are more than capable of achieving such feats. Any firebenders strength comes from their inner fire, not their ability to replicate forms." he acknowledged, his words a direct contradiction of what he had told him on numerous occasions.

He had frequently called his son a disappointment because of how worse he had been at perfecting his forms when compared to his younger sister. Ozai could cherry pick firebending theory to suit his agenda, which seemed to be at that very moment to scare the shit out of him; he was stressing the point of Zuko's achievements, which had been subversive, treacherous actions, which his father must have had some understanding of.

"Thank you, Father. I will ask him if I can begin practicing the forms." he assured him, his pleasantries simply lies to keep away his real feelings, and to his own surprise, they were not feelings of hatred or disgust.

He felt a far stronger feeling than hate or disgust, that being pure terror. His smile on any other person, perhaps even Azula, might be seen as approving, and perhaps he was approving of his treachery; maybe he did think he was worthy, but the very fact he knew of what he had done made Zuko want to bolt out of that room and run from the palace, hoping that his father wouldn't try to kill him.

"Your highness." he heard the voice of another servant, and turned his gaze over toward him; he was relieved that somebody had showed up, if only to distract him from the thoughts Ozai was practically forcing into his head by that point.

"What is it?" the elder Prince snappily asked the servant, "Can't you see I'm having a conversation with my son?"

"I bear a message from your daughter. You explicitly asked for these to be delivered to you at once." he explained, before stepping forward with a scroll, "Your highness." he bowed toward Ozai, who picked the scroll out of his hand.

"That I did." he noted, before waving his hand up, gesturing for the servant to leave; he cracked open the scroll, and glanced down it, his lips pursing upward.

"Good." he simply commented on what he had read, before turning his eyes to his son, "Zuko, your sister has done what all those before her have failed to achieve." he explained, raising the scroll up in his hand, "The Avatar is ours."

Zuko's eyes widened as he realised that what he had just heard had confirmed some of his worst fears; the Avatar was both a tool for his sister to displace him on the line of succession, as well as one of the only individuals who could reasonably oppose his heinous plans. It was terrible news, but he forced out a smile.

"Brilliant." he lied through his teeth, "She has brought great honour to our family in doing so."

"That she has." he confirmed, before glancing back down the scroll, "Oh, and she's heading on a slight detour before she brings the Avatar here." he observed, narrowing his eyes, "She's going to find your uncle's assassins and slaughter them all."

"Did she actually write that?" he asked him, his father showing him the scroll; he read down the bottom of it, and noted that in less than perfect handwriting was that specific declaration, that she intended to kill them all for their disgraceful actions against their family.

"Yes she did, Prince Zuko. I believe I was right in my assumptions." Ozai proudly declared, though Zuko was less concerned about that but rather what his sister had actually wanted to do.

He was certain that was a very fancy way of saying she was out for revenge. For all it was worth, even if he was unhappy with Azula capturing the Avatar, there was one thing he could agree with. He pursed his lips upward at the thought of his father's assassins not just failing, but finding their lives ended by the daughter of the very man who hired them. Zuko did not relish in death, but knowing what had happened to Lu Ten, he could confidently say he would tolerate the idea of a bunch of men being horrifically burnt to death and shot with lightning bolts for trying to dare take his uncle's life. Perhaps he'd even enjoy the news of hearing their demise, if only to counterbalance his fears over his uncle's fate.

"She won't disappoint you, Father."