A/N: This is one of those chapters that seemed very easy, like a total, no probs situation, which of course meant that it took me much longer to get edited. I kept plugging away at it because I got another review from touslesnoms, thank you! What a treat: blueness28 follow and head-first-fearless11 favorite! I shout-out because it means so much that you take time to review or show your appreciation with a follow, favorite, or PM (thanks ML8991).

Disclaimer: I don't want to get any lightning strikes from Azula, I have no rights to Avatar the Last Airbender.

Azula's boots stride across the diagonal slatted wooden floor of varying stains, which run the length of the hallway. Curved windows overlook the gardens with shades partially blocking the intensity of the setting sun. The sky's orange and purple mingle into an ombre setting sun, casting colors across the floor and onto the red diamond wallpaper. Azula's shadow stretches before her, moving ahead of her brisk gait, mingling with the other shadows and then reappearing again.

The palace reminds everyone that within the walls there is still a hierarchy. Azula knows her place within the pyramid, the pinnacle. It is only a matter of time that she will reach the apex. As Azula crosses from the communal areas of the palace into the royal private quarters, her interlude with the Southern Tribe drifts from annoyance to amusement. She feels almost giddy over her brief confab. The Southern Chief's son doesn't seem smart enough to outwit a simpleton who begs for alms in the lower city's muck ditches. The Southern Tribe Chief, now he is another entity, Hakoda intrigues her with his distinct attitude of disinterest and not subtle disdain for Azula. Hakoda's offhand manner is refreshing to the usual groveling that Azula endures, especially by bootlicking noblemen courting favor.

Azula slides her tongue along her lips, thinking about how much fun it would make Chief Hakoda truckle to her wishes. His stiff back bent to her will, succumbing to her whims. A delightful shiver courses through her, stirring her passions. It is rare that a man intrigues her; usually, their simple interests and appetites are so dull and predictable.

Now that Southern Scum of Princess Katara is another problem. Azula knows Katara hadn't referenced Azula's proper title on purpose. It irks Azula that Katara's glaring oversight had been bothersome. There is something rank about Katara. Azula can tell the southern scum isn't some typical trifle lady of the court; Katara has secrets. Azula adores secrets, and the power those mysteries represent to the one who possesses the knowledge to adequately wield the information. Secrets make everything so much more exciting and tolerable, providing an endless resource of leverage and control.

Control is everything to Azula. It was how she was able to surmount the necessary steps adroitly to be a firebender prodigy. Azula had learned the key to firebending early-you don't let the element control you; you bend the fire to your will. Azula is more determined than ever to discover Katara's weakness. Like all quandaries which are buzzing gnats, it only requires patience and a little cunning to squash the annoying bug.

An irksome sound flitters down the hallway; the telling lilting melody makes Azula's skin crawl and insides churn. It is the prognostic whistle of her uncle, proceeding his presence as usual. Azula pulls back her shoulders, resisting the urge to turn around and flee in the opposite direction. Her Uncle has the ability to make Azula feel small, an emotion anathema to her general confidence. Acknowledging that feeling would make it real, Azula continues in her original direction.

Azula calmly reminds herself that the Spirits do have a sense of humor. How Uncle Iroh has been deemed the Crown Prince to the most powerful nation in the world is beyond comprehension. It is along the same strange occurrence that Azula is not first born. She is relegated so far down the royal line as to be useless and never correctly rule. Azula concedes that Uncle Iroh's prowess was of legendary substance, but she hasn't witnessed it, only heard tales of his mythic deeds: a champion bender, dragon hunter, and inventor of new firebending moves. The Iroh of yore conquered nations, making them kneel before him and the crown. Then his wife dies in labor, and Uncle dwindles into a sniveling puppet, dealing in diplomacy rather than subjugation. The only one Azula respects in the kingdom or the world is Koh; at least he gets what he wants, striking fear in everyone and everything. Uncle Iroh needs to assert his position and utilize his power, that is one thing that she agrees on with her father. Ursa fawns over Iroh with such a pathetic schoolgirl fascination. Azula's mother can't get enough of Uncle Iroh's incessant tea ceremonies. Bile rises in Azula's throat thinking about her uncle's obsession with tea. The most boring subject on Earth; on that Azula can agree with Mai, tea is obnoxiously dull.

Azula rounds the bend. Iroh doesn't pull up short but merely stops with their sudden encounter. Lu Ten is accompanying his father. Azula notes the slight look of disgust that passes in her cousin's eyes at the sight of her. Azula cares naught that Lu Ten doesn't like her. Lu Ten's dislike only makes Azula feel more powerful; she can arise such a feeling in her cousin who is higher rung on the royalty ladder than her is heady notion. The fact that Lu Ten even considers Azula as someone to hate is delightful to the princess; hate is always stronger than love. Thus, Azula is much more powerful than her position would naturally indicate.

"Azula," Iroh bows curtly with his head. "What a happenstance to run into you?"

Azula raises an eyebrow. Unfortunately, Azula knows that her uncle considers Azula of little consequence or threat, which naturally infuriates Azula. Her voice begins sharper than she intended. "Not so, Uncle, is this not the royal quarters so therefore as a princess I would be found or should be found wandering these illustrious hallways."

Iroh smiles with genuine delight. "Then we shall leave you to your mischief in the hallways."

Azula's face tightens over the mischief comment. Iroh never seems to have any other reaction to Azula except delight or a mild passing fancy. Those aren't feelings that make her comfortable or reactions she enjoys. She wants to make Iroh angry, that is an emotion that she comprehends. "Uncle, I hope you aren't too distressed from the council meeting this morning. It must feel like such a betrayal to have your brother vote against you."

Iroh laughs heartily. "Quite the opposite, I enjoy a good debate. I like it, even more, when the council can be fully represented."

Azula says coldly. "Represented doesn't always mean a winning outcome."

Lu Ten interjects boldly. "I would say our side fared much better than Uncle Ozai's."

Iroh crosses over his son's words quickly. "What is important is that justice has been upheld."

Azula pretends to inspect her perfect manicure. "Justice is a relative term."

Lu Ten eyes his cousin. "Yes, especially in this family." He doesn't care to spend time in his cousin's offensive presence. "Azula, we have places to be." He moves to the pass.

Azula holds out her arm to block Lu Ten's escape. "Places, everyone has places to go and people to see, what a busy, busy, bunch of bumbling bee-beetles."

Iroh throws his head back and laughs heartily. "Azula, I didn't realize you dabbled in poetry?"

Azula straightens and says quietly. "I don't, Uncle." Why did he say that?

"I would assume the allure of alliteration would alert others of your affinity." Iroh leans in eagerly. "Perhaps, you have let go of tepid interest in tea, too."

"Spirits no!" Azula scrambles back with horror. The mere thought of sitting through Iroh's obnoxious hobby obsession is loathsome to Azula. She suspects that Uncle Iroh must be purposely distracting her, knowing how distasteful she finds his tea talk. Furoc! Azula is now thinking in alliteration. She shakes off his discombobulated feeling and resumes sharpening her talons on her targets. "I heard you commissioned a most horrid of operas, some drivel about Yue the Moon Goddess."

Iroh becomes serious. "Princess Azula, Yue the Moon Goddess is a tortured tale that reminds everyone of sacrifices for love."

Azula scoffs inwardly, love a useless emotion that only clutters your true self-realization, so typical of Uncle. She lies. "How interesting a topic? I prefer the Ring Fire Trilogy myself." Then an idea germinates within, she could get needed information if Uncle was distracted. She adds a nonchalant lilt to her voice. " I would love to join you."

"It involves culture." Lu Ten states. "You said so yourself you wouldn't enjoy Yue the Moon Goddess."

Azula looks her cousins from up and down in a seductive manner. "Oh cousin, you have no idea, what I enjoy."

"I fully endorse all pursuits of the arts and so pleased Azula you are taking an interest, however, this evening might not be a good opportunity for you to expand your interests." Iroh is not in the mood to negotiate an endless cat and mouse exploits with his niece and Iroh's guests.

"I intend to attend!" Azula steps forward threateningly.

Iroh knows to stay calm with his niece's petulant whims. "It is your provocation of course, but I did warn you.." Iroh easily pushes past Azula.

"I mean to go, Uncle." Azula's hand reaches out and latches onto her Uncle's arm, stopping him.

Lu Ten sputters, horrified that Azula laid a hand onto his father. "Father, it is best that we leave to get ready."

Iroh grabs Azula's arm and forcefully removes it, taking her by the shoulders he moves her against the wall out of his way. "Good evening, Azula, my offer for tea still stands. I have the perfect blend that would help your current disappointment."

Azula grinds her teeth. "I don't want any tea, ever!"

Iroh raises his hand, "Have a good evening, Azula." Lu Ten and Iroh continue down the hall. Iroh whistling until it becomes only a faint annoying whisper to Azula.

Azula scrunches up her hands. She needs to fire a maid or burn something. Chi flushes through her system with the burning need to send something immediately to the spirit world. As she whirls around, a vase comes into view. Azula sends out a blue stream of fire, disintegrating the vessel into dust.

Lu Ten and Iroh hear the burst of lightning. Lu Ten says with a shake of his head. "Father, only you know how to rile up Azula."

Iroh's eyes twinkle. "What me? I was merely having a conversation. I can't help that others have such a powerful response to my pleasant intentions."

"Of course, Father, of course." Lu Ten possesses the slow smile of knowing that his father has many depths that Lu Ten will never quite comprehend. Iroh resumes his whistling with extra contented vigor.

The destruction of the vase, while satisfying, didn't quell Azula's anger. She is desperate to tear someone to shreds, belittling them into defeatism. Her eyes narrow with the realization that the perfect candidate would be her brother. Azula turns down a different hallway toward Zuko's quarters. Quarters, Azula scoffs inwardly is a name fit for a higherup servant but not a prince. Zuko had been situated next to Azula's room when they were younger, but after Zuko's foolhardy accident, he decided that he would move to less palatial rooms, farther away from Azula.

Azula reaches Zuko's door and tries the knob, opening it slowly and glancing inside. Zuko is digging through his wardrobe. Azula's curiosity is piqued over what Zuko could be searching. Her suspicion has many threads. She needs to spin a web to snare the truth out of her brother. Azula casually pushes the door all the way open, so it bangs against the wall. Zuko immediately straightens and closes his wardrobe door.

Azula's lips form a delicious smile. "Zuzu, now what could you be up to?"

Zuko gives his sister a glowering look. "Azula, I don't have time for your games."

Azula steps inside. Zuko's words signally to Azula as an open invitation for sparring. "The only game I like is truth or dare, you know that. "

"I thought your favorite game was lightning the apple from Mai's head?"

Azula flits her hand at Zuko playfully. "That wasn't the name of the game, Zuzu, that game was called getting Zuko and Mai all wet in the fountain."

Zuko ignores his sister and takes off his jacket. "How about I dare you to jump off the palace's tower, then?" He reopens the wardrobe, hanging up his suit coat. He pushes a button recessed in the back of the wardrobe as he slides the coat on a hanger. A shoot on the floor of his wardrobe silently sends his Blue Spirit articles to its secret location.

Azula sighs, running a hand along a back of a chair situated by the fire. "I've done that little dare, and it wasn't that challenging." Azula strolls over to Zuko's bed and lifts up his tossed out articles, inspecting them, then dropping them to the side. "Here's some truth, Zuzu, why don't you use the servants in our employ to do your household drudgery."

Zuko gathers up his articles and moves to a curtain along the wall; shifts the red-velvet material aside. He tosses the clothes down the laundry shoot. "Azula, don't you have some poor maid to torture or banish?"

"Zuzu, where are your manners?" Azula pretends to pout. "I am merely here for a sisterly chat."

Zuko moves to his desk, hoping to distract Azula's keen eye. He knows if he demands Azula to leave it will only rouse her curiosity more. "For someone who's so worried about manners, I believe it's customary to knock and be asked to come in before you just stroll into someone's room." He moves some papers around that are inconsequential. "Chatting isn't your operandum, rendering fear into anyone who crosses your path is your gift."

Azula smiles slowly. "Brother, while I do enjoy your attempts at bantering. I'm here on charitable business." She lowers on his bed and leans back. Her silk shirt pulls tightly against her chest. "Father was most displeased with your decision to go with Uncle's faction. Whatever Uncle has promised you, trust me, it will bring you nothing but pain."

"See, that's where you and father are different. Uncle doesn't have conditions or expectations." Zuko moves toward the fireplace and watches as the flames roar to life.

"Everyone has conditions," Azula says tightly. The red burst of fire turns to crystal blue flames within the stone fireplace. "You are naive to not see that Uncle and Lu Ten are using you. They will throw you over once they get the crown."

Zuko rounds onto his sister. "That isn't true." Red flames flight amongst the blue fire; both burning the log in the grate into red and blue ash.

"Isn't it?" Azula stands up quickly and strides purposely to her brother.

Zuko boldly steps forward, standing in front of his sister, not intimidated. "Uncle didn't ask me to do anything other than to vote how my heart called me."

"How quaint." Azula drolls. She moves even closer with a dark glint to her eyes.

Zuko hates that Azula makes everything that Uncle does or says as something low and base. "You are only bitter because, for once, you didn't find yourself at the top."

Azula tosses her head, realizing how much Zuko really doesn't understand her. "Please, I don't care one way or the other how the vote went. It is Father's project." Azula runs her hand down Zuko's shirt. "Unlike you, I don't need people's approval, and I never follow people blindly. No, dear brother, I follow where I see it is most advantageous to me."

"That's how we are different." Zuko's chest muscles ripple as he takes off his shirt slowly, and then tosses it on the chair. "I'm not following someone. I am with people that care about me."

Azula's mouth draws up. Her hand slides down his smooth chest and rests against the top of his pants. "But do they care about you?"

Zuko glares at her. "Yes!" The force of his answer almost rings false to him.

"Brother, you are lying to yourself if you believe that." Azula turns around and moves to his wardrobe. She leafs through his clothes and finds a shirt. She tosses it over her shoulder and pulls a tie from another section. She drapes the tie around her neck and then glides over to her brother. She removes the shirt from her shoulder and snaps it. "This is why you have a servant to help dress you." She threads one of Zuko's arms through the shirt. Circling around, her hand runs along Zuko's waist. He stands rigid. Azula peeks over Zuko's shoulder while shifting his other arm through the shirt. "Haven't you wondered yourself about Uncle and Lu Ten's loyalty to you every moment that you are with them?" Azula slides around to Zuko's front, brushing tightly against him. Zuko has a far-off pondering look to his face. As Azula buttons his shirt, her nails scrape against Zuko's chest, bringing his focus back to her.

"No, I don't question their loyalty." The muscle in Zuko's cheek tenses with uncertainty.

Azula notices it and speaks so innocently but with a hint of challenge. "I dare you to ask them, then." Azula runs her hand around Zuko's shirt collar, flipping it up.

Zuko suddenly grabs the tie around Azula's necks and yanks her closer to him. Their faces inches apart. Zuko whispers fiercely. "What is your true aim, Azula?"

Azula's tongue runs along her lips with a slow tantalizing motion. "I'm simply doing what you can't." She waits for a beat and adds, "getting you properly dressed." Azula removes Zuko's grip on the tie and pulls the tie slowly from her neck. Placing it around Zuko's neck, Azula forms the proper knot and lowers the starched collar. "There, see for yourself." She turns Zuko, so they are both staring at each other in the mirror. Azula wounds her way to Zuko's back, pressing her breasts tightly against him. She threads her hands up under Zuko's arms and around his chest. Adjusting Zuko's tie, Azula makes it more perfectly aligned. "You and I are blood, true blood. Together, we can be unstoppable."

A knock sounds at the door, Zuko steps away from Azula abruptly and answers curtly, "Who is it?"

The voice on the other side replies, "I have a message for you, Prince Zuko, from the Royal Infirmary."

Zuko unwinds Azula's arms from him and hurries toward the door, throwing it open. The servant bows; before he can rise, Zuko tears the message from the servant's hand, which reads: Prince Zuko, Lady Katara is completely healed. She has returned to her apartments. Dr. Hama.

Relief fills him. Zuko places the note in the pocket of his pants. "Thank you!" He says to the servant. Zuko strides over to his wardrobe, brushing past Azula while he opens the heavy wooden door to his clothes, retrieving his previously hung suit coat. He puts it on as he strides to his bedroom door. Zuko pauses at the threshold, placing his hand on the door jam. He says coldly over his shoulder to Azula "I'm sure you know your way out." He moves quickly down the hallway toward the Royal Infirmary.

Azula is furious that she had been interrupted. She had almost swayed Zuko to her side. Blue flames leap to attention in the fireplace, even though no tender is there to burn. Azula's eyes flash as she descends upon the cowering servant who made the mistake to dawdle. Azula's voice has a cold fiery edge to her words. "What was in that message?"

A nervous shrink from Azula and furtive looks for help, which won't be found in a vacant hallway, has the retreating servant dissolving in a fit of stuttering protestations. "P-p-princess, I don't know. The message was for P-p-prince Zuko."

Azula's eyebrows draw together. She runs a hand down the sweating man's face. She rubs away the moisture with a slight revulsion. "Now, now, you and I know that servants are adept at knowing everything in the palace, especially secrets. This could go the easy way or the hard way." Azula points a sharp finger to her chest. "Now, I always prefer the hard way. It is more delightful for me but will be excruciatingly painful to you, so you may prefer the easy way. Tell me what was in that message!" Blue flames roar in the fireplace but calm to dancing flickers with a nonchalant shrug from Azula. "It matters not to me." Glancing at her perfect nails, she sighs. "Tick-tock, I don't like to wait."

All the color drains out of the servant's face. He collapses to the floor, clinging to Azula's boots. His tears staining the leather. "Please, Princess Azula, mercy, I only know that the message came from Dr. Hama about a patient in the Royal Infirmary."

Azula says coldly, kicking the cowering servant away from her. "Get off me, your tears are staining my boots!"

The man is crying harder with fear and terror that he has made an even greater offense. He takes off his jacket, desperately trying to polish his terror from the soft leather. "I'm sorry, glorious Princess Azula, who is the sun and..."

Azula rolls her eyes and barks, "Oh shut it, you dung heap of a cow-pig, what is the patient's name?"

"I know not her name."

Azula raises her hand, blue flames dance on her palm. "Her name!"

"I tell you, I don't know." Ther servant blurts with terror-filled clarity. "Wait, it is the girl from the Southern Water Tribe, Lady Katara!" The man feels almost joyful as the blue flames disappear. He whimpers. "Please, spare me, I have a wife and four children."

"Then, if you care to see their sniveling faces again, you will run and alert Long Feng of my approach."

"Yes, yes, Princess Azula, you are most kind and generous." The servant repeatedly bows as he retreats.

Azula waves her manicured hand away and wearily sighs. "Yes, yes, I know, beautiful and powerful, too!" The servant doesn't reply as he dashes down the hallway with an almost drunken relief of knowing that he survived an interaction with Princess Azula.

Azula strolls after the servant with an unhindered gait from their little interrogation session. She hadn't even tried with him, sure it boded well for him, but absolutely no fun for her. She sighs over the state of finding good help, and the fact that she must bear the burden of being perfect in every way.

Zuko is relieved that the message arrived about Katara. He had wanted to get away from Azula. His sister had the means of making Zuko feel conflicted; his natural doubts about himself scream inadequacy whenever Azula is around. Trying to get the Royal Infirmary as soon as possible, Zuko almost plows into Iroh.

Iroh laughs, bracing Zuko. "Nephew, slow down, where are you headed in such an obvious heedless hurry?" Iroh has a strong suspicion where Zuko is heading. Lu Ten had told his father all about Lady Katara and Zuko's obvious flustered reaction to her. He wished he could have seen his nephew, for it would have been refreshing to see Zuko not brooding but enjoying the finer things in life.

"Uncle, I was going to the Royal Infirmary." Zuko tries to move past his Uncle.

Iroh blocks Zuko's escape while raising his eyebrow, pretending to worry. "Is your wound on your leg bothering you?"

"No," Zuko hadn't thought about his leg, in fact, completely forgotten about his wound. "I wanted to..." Zuko pauses, baffled about what he would say or do when actually in front of Lady Katara. Zuko stumbles through a half-hearted clarification. "As a member of the royal family, I wanted to extend my relief over Lady Katara's recovery." Zuko checks over any possible inferences or misinterpretations. He smiles that he managed to put together a plausible reason. He adds earnestly to himself; Besides Katara might be impressed by my princely gesture. The thought makes him feel for once almost equal to his cousin, Lu Ten.

Lu Ten covers his general humor that Zuko is so besotted and states over-seriously. "That is very Princely of you, Zuko."

Zuko bursts out, amazed that his cousin had spoken what had just occurred to Zuko. "That was precisely what I was thinking, too, cousin." Realizing his slip, Zuko amends. "It is only right and proper, of course, Lu Ten."

"Yes, of course." Lu Ten nods and then turns to Iroh. "Thoughts, Father, upon this matter?"

Iroh looks slyly at Lu Ten and then adds with a wise and knowing tone. "I'm proud of you, Nephew, that you are being diligent in your royal duties."

"Exactly, Uncle, it is important that the Fire Nation set a good example to the other nations with our courtly manners." Zuko is bursting at pride at his elaborate explanation.

The Crown Prince knows Zuko, and the fact that his nephew is so concerned about Lady Katara has nothing to do with nation diplomacy. Yet, it does no harm to continue with the charade that Zuko has enacted. "In the name of royal relations, perhaps you would like to speak with the whole family. It might bode well for the negotiations I am trying to conduct with the Southern Water Tribe."

Zuko blanches. He hates dealing with politics. And whenever he has been faced with court negotiations, Zuko has ended up with a raging headache from his pinched countenance, stemming out of the stress of keeping his opinions to himself. "Why, Uncle, but, I was hoping to speak to Lady Katara only. Since...I wouldn't want to worry the other Southern Tribe members, as they may not be aware of Lady Katara's illness." Zuko is proud, almost shocked that lying can be effortless. Is this how Azula feels?

Iroh shrugs. "Knowing Dr. Hama, the other Southern Water Tribe members are well informed of Lady Katara's illness."

Zuko can't hide his dismay or his confusion for such an emotion. "I see."

Iroh doesn't want to prolong Zuko's misery. "Perhaps, you could join us this evening. I am sponsoring Yue the Moon Goddess, a riveting opera, one of the Water Tribe's best cannon"

Zuko hates opera. "Uncle, I appreciate the invitation, but..."

Iroh speaks before Zuko can protest further. "I realize you might have other plans, a mission on behalf of the royal court," Iroh knowingly references the Blue Spirits exploits. "But your agenda can be adjusted; the night is long."

Zuko will not get a headache later, because his misery is not concealed, even though the thought of spending several hours enduring bellowing exploits of overacting and unusually long death scenes will prolong Zuko's own demise at the hand of boredom. Instead, Zuko bows graciously. "That is most kind of you, Uncle, to include me. I would be honored to attend."

Lu Ten erupts in laughter and slaps his cousin on the back joyfully. "Oh Brother, you do suffer for those that you love, you detest the opera."

"I don't!" Zuko's cheeks tinged with red as he protests, then says sheepishly. "Fine, I hate the opera; the Ember Island Players butchered Love Amongst the Dragons."

Iroh folds his hands together and agrees slowly. "Yes, yes, but that troupe was a community theater outpost. I commend their admirable attempt at a complex work, but unfortunately, their implementation fell flat. However, not all opera is tragic in its execution."

Lu Ten adds wisely. "Azula should have executed them for destroying our nation's treasure."

Zuko supplies in seriousness. "If Azula had been present, they would have been obliterated and then destroyed."

Iroh chuckles heartily. "Yes, Azula does possess persuasive skills to neutralize undesirables." He claps his hands together to end their conversation. "Zuko, my boy, I can assure you that attending the opera this evening will be the most pleasant of diversions."

Lu Ten clears his throat and says with an overt gravity. "Father, you neglected to inform Zuko of your guests."

Iroh pretends to be rather addled by his misstep. "Quite right, dear son, quite right, how foolish of me, you must forgive your Uncle, Zuko."

"Of course, Uncle, who is attending?"

"Why the Southern Water Tribe are my personal guests, including Lady Katara, I believe."

Zuko stands upright with a pleasant surprise and then realizes that his cousin and Uncle were teasing him the whole time. Azula's haunting words ghost in front of him as taunting apparitions of suspicion. Zuko can't hide his hurt. "Uncle, Lu Ten, why did you not tell me right away that Lady Katara would be with you tonight?"

Iroh places his arm around his beloved nephew. "My boy, any answer can be given quickly or built upon a layer of emotion, setting the stage for bonds to grow and foster. I enjoy your company very much, so I chose the circuitous direction to the ultimate goal of revealing Lady Katara's whereabouts. Now, if you were of little consequence, I would have told you outright about Lady Katara and went on my merry way."

"But you didn't, Father." Lu Ten emphasizes, which makes Zuko look up sharply with still hesitant wounded eyes.

"Exactly, my Dear Lu Ten, I did not. The three of us had a most enjoyable conversation in a nondescript hallway that when I stroll along, this passage will no longer go unremarked in my heart or my memories." Iroh imparts. "Zuko and..." Iroh adds gently but unnecessarily, "Lu Ten..." his concession of his own son's name made to ease Zuko's pride and hurt that Zuko had not picked up on the subtleties of their group interaction. "Please remember to take the longer path when interacting with your loved ones. Or Nephew, perhaps this evening with Lady Katara? If you do, you will find yourself in a much more enjoyable situation that could lead to other enjoyable situations."

Lu Ten hugs Iroh. "Father, you are not only wise, but I believe well established with your own brand of diplomacy."

Iroh's eyes twinkled. "That I am, son, that I am." He looks at Zuko who has taken in his Uncle's words silently. "So, Zuko, you will join us then?"

Zuko nods, "Yes, I will, Uncle, thank you."

Iroh claps Zuko on the shoulder. "Good show, I will see you in the royal box." He raises an eyebrow. "Considering your other plans, you might prefer coming to your vehicle.

Zuko bows "Yes, thank you, Uncle." He bows to his cousin, "Lu Ten." Iroh and Lu Ten return the bows. Zuko turns on his heel and hurries back to his room quarters with a spring in his step.

A/N: I have to say my favorite scene is between Azula and Zuko, the dialogue, so Lion in the Winter (highly recommend play/movie for those that like delicious dialogue). Yet, my heart sings whenever Zuko is with his little family. Confession time, this chapter was much longer, 11,000 words and counting. However, I got this far tweaking and tinkering I thought long enough, posting time. I know it has been long since I have updated, afraid to check how long, for those that loyally follow, any delay is too long, so this something to whet your appetites.

Well fanfiction world, I hope YOU will not delay and show some love with a review, favorite, and/or follow!