Chapter Text
It was with one foolish choice, hastily made with the same poor decision-making skills he was known for, that Zuko changed the course of his entire life.
This series of events should come as little shock, given that most of his decisions could be classified as poorly thought through and poorly executed. He could make plenty of excuses, but none would allow him to reverse out of this one. He could say that he was too caught up in the heat of the moment, Azula pressed him to make a judgment too quickly, he couldn't take the time necessary to make the right decision as the battle was starting, et cetera. The justifications made no difference in the face of his actions. Despite not having enough time to fully consider the consequences, he did what he always did and stubbornly stuck to the choice he had made.
No mediocre life within the walls of Ba Sing Se could quiet his longing for what he had lost. In his dreams, he saw himself redeemed in his father's eyes and welcomed home, only to wake up a failure. There was an alluring call in the unknown, the fantasy of what his life could have been and who he could have been had he not spoken out. Had his father not banished him. No matter how hard he tried to focus on the present and all that he was building, he never lost the yearning. The desire to prove himself.
Azula only needed to dangle that lure in front of him to reignite that burning hunger. His metamorphosis was, for the time being, forgotten. He easily betrayed his newfound morality for blind ambition. Azula offered him everything he had dreamed about for three long years, his one chance to redeem himself, in trade for his soul. He could return home with honor, as long as he behaved.
He knew there was a price to pay, but he was blind to it. The bait was too tempting to ignore.
Things moved quickly after the Avatar’s defeat at Ba Sing Se. Though they did not have the Avatar’s body as proof, he was proclaimed dead. The people of the Fire Nation rejoiced as the war neared its conclusion. Azula declared Ba Sing Se fallen and claimed it in their father’s name. While Zuko had hoped to return home quickly, Azula insisted they stay to oversee the change in power.
A coup had already been carried out to eliminate the old leadership, the council of five, and an administrator was put in place by Azula to oversee things in her stead. A woman named Joo Dee, who didn't seem capable of keeping up a conversation or thinking independently. Zuko had tried to speak with her but left the attempt feeling deeply unsettled. She was a puppet. Zuko did not like the hollow look in her eyes.
The Dai Li moved to follow Azula’s every order. Zuko could only watch in muted horror as the police force meant to protect the city began opening up the outer and inner walls to let the fire nation troops in. Any insurrection was met with lethal correction. Blood stained the streets. Witnessing death became commonplace. Zuko couldn't leave the palace without seeing violence of some form.
While that was a horror previously unimaginable, it was far more frightening when the Dai Li took people. People vanished from their homes or darkened streets. These people didn't try to fight or start a riot; their crime was simply speaking out against the hostile occupation. There was no war in Ba Sing Se; the Fire Nation was a welcome guest. Sometimes people came back, but they were never the same. They wholeheartedly supported their new oppressor and could not be made to see an issue with the state of the city. Zuko didn't like speaking to those people; their eyes were strangely hollow. The city grew quieter as the days went on.
Nobody knew where the Earth King had disappeared to in all this, but it was suspected that he had a tunnel to safety. Some said he was a coward who abandoned his people, but Zuko agreed with those who knew he had little other choice. He would have been killed if he had stayed. Azula would have made an example of him.
It took two weeks for Azula to settle the city. A remarkably fast turnaround for a forced occupation, but Zuko was already anxious to leave, so he didn't consider this a great feat. By dawn, they were shipped out on a boat set to return home. Upon arrival, he would reclaim his place as the crown prince of the Fire Nation.
Being confined on a boat with his sister was worth it if he got to leave that city. His resolve had begun to chip away as he was forced to bear witness to the horror happening in the city he once called home. He had only ever seen the destruction his people brought after they were done. To see it happen right in front of him made him question his choices.
Luckily, it wasn't just him and Azula on the boat. They had a hefty crew, and Azula brought her little gang, Mai and Ty Lee, along as well. They all seemed to be looking forward to going home and ceasing their endless travels. They seemed as tired of the hunt for the Avatar as Zuko was.
Ty Lee was a pleasant traveling companion, but her unrelentingly cheerful nature got on Zuko’s nerves after a bit. He didn't actually like snapping at her or making her cry, so by the second day, he started to avoid her. She still came over to talk to him, but gave up after a few lackluster responses. It was for the best, but part of him felt bad about it. He wasn't sure why he was so angry right now, but he knew it wasn't her fault.
Azula wasn't an option for travel entertainment unless one fancied electrotherapy. Zuko quickly found that his relationship with Azula had not improved in the slightest, and it would be best if he avoided her.
Finally, there was Mai. He had always gotten along best with Mai as a child, and it wasn't a surprise to find that true today. He was a little upset to see that Mai’s gloomy “whatever” attitude had worsened quite a bit. It made it hard to talk to her about things when she didn't care about anything. By contrast, he seemed to care an awful lot about everything.
It was on the third day at sea that Mai made a move. She had been harboring a crush on him since they were kids, but his banishment put a damper on that. She was very pretty, his friend, and she was in the correct nobility ranking for him to marry. He had no reason to turn her down, so he didn't. When she kissed him, he felt distant.
The rest of the trip home was uneventful. Zuko knew he was on edge. He snapped at anybody who bothered to speak to him and spent his free time alone, staring off at nothing. He didn't recognize himself in the mirror. He had lost so much weight and muscle since becoming a refugee. His skin was thin and pale. His eyes looked less golden and more muted, like they didn't belong to him. He found a set of hollow eyes looking back and wondered if the Dai Li had taken him as well. He started avoiding his reflection.
The only emotion he could identify or express was anger. It wasn't that he was mad at anybody; he was just mad at everything. His other emotions were restrained behind the rage. There was a maelstrom in his mind that was slowly destroying him. Sleep brought nightmares. Training brought mistakes that he could have avoided if he weren't sleep-deprived and distracted. Each mistake only made him hate himself more. Conversation always brought him back to the point of frustration. He was out of options except to start screaming.
Mai was the most persistent about being near him. At one point, she even tried to talk to him about what was bothering him so much. He tried to talk but couldn't find the right words. Even if he took the time to explain, how could they figure his emotions out if even he didn't know what was wrong? Azula and the others asked plenty of probing questions, but their attempts to understand him only hardened his resolve to keep this bit of insanity to himself. The voice of paranoia that constantly plagued him told him that showing weakness to any of them would put him in danger. Zuko always felt them watching. Searching. They knew something was different about him.
Something was wrong.
The feeling of being something other, an outsider, only worsened for Zuko when their ship docked. The moment they stepped onto dry land, they were surrounded by servants, guards, and nobility in a frenzy to gain favor. Mai paid them no mind, but Azula and Ty Lee preened under the attention. They each responded to the adoration in polar ways, but while Zuko shrank back, the girls acted as though this treatment was their birthright. Like being greater than everybody else was as natural as breathing.
Zuko felt as though he stood naked on a pedestal.
It was only an hour after they docked that Zuko found himself standing on a stage before a crowd. He and Azula were welcomed home as heroes. Given the level of planning and the turnout, Zuko assumed Azula must have written home to ask for this. The celebration was grand in a way that made it feel disingenuous. The decorations were expensive, and the crowd was loud, but it felt forced. Zuko could almost swear everyone in the imperial city had come. There wasn't an empty spot to be seen. The crowd made this awful cacophony that was nearly deafening. It was as though they were afraid to be caught being quiet.
The longer he stood on that stage, watching them cheer, the more he let doubt slither into his mind. The people who smiled at him today were the same people who had scorned him as a banished embarrassment over the last few years. He even recognized the faces of many nobles who had looked down on him before his banishment. Zuko was the failed firstborn before he was cast out, and he doubted their opinion of him would change. He would never forget that these were the same people who whispered their hopes that Azula would usurp the throne from him, as her father had usurped the throne from Iroh.
The party that followed the announcement was no easier to bear. The richest and most influential members of the crowd had spirited away with the royal siblings to a ballroom so decadent that it didn't feel real. Zuko had never been allowed in here as a child. This place was a monument to extravagance. It was massive, and yet Zuko felt so cramped.
Waves of people gravitated to him, no matter what corner he attempted to hide in. It felt like they were doing a chore they did not look forward to. Every smile they flashed him screamed of poorly concealed contempt. The conversations were strained, and they all inevitably asked Zuko about what he had been doing the past few years. Zuko wasn't sure why they all asked, as they could only feign interest for so long before they were conveniently called away. Zuko got so used to them drifting away when the story started to bore them that he could stop at any time without noticing the conversation had ended.
Zuko‘s mind was trapped in a haze as suppressive as a wildfire’s heat. These people were smothering. They came in unyielding waves, one after another, fighting for the chance to see the train wreck up close. He never got a moment of respite. Each disappointing encounter left him feeling drained. By the fifth wave, he could already predict how this would go. They would ask the same questions with the same feigned interest, then excuse themselves when his stories got boring or graphic. Based on their expressions and the incessant whispering to each other, Zuko doubted their impression of him was good.
Zuko was no better than a wild animal that had been plucked from the streets. They scrubbed him down and trimmed his claws, but that made him no less rabid. The very bite that saved his life before was now a party trick. He hated the way they so clearly took joy in his misery.
The mistake he had made grew clearer as his hatred for these people grew. Azula’s comfort and popularity only alienated him more. She wasn't charming, but they feared and respected her. They saw him as a mistake.
He had no idea why he thought he could hate it here less as an adult. He missed his uncle, and despite himself, he longed for the simple life he once had. But that was a life he could never again live, because he was foolish enough to think the grass was greener on this side. There was nothing good or green here.
It did not get easier in the days that immediately followed. Zuko spent much of his time alone in the garden or cooped up in his room, but when he ventured out, it was a constant task to avoid bumping into people. The palace halls were filled with wandering nobility, war generals, and other people who thought themselves important. It was the rules of society that they acknowledged the crown prince, even if neither party wanted to have that conversation. It felt as though the halls were filled with landmines, but he was as blind as a badger-mole.
An accident a few days in revolutionized his ability to travel through the palace. He found a hidden passage that led him into a maze of tunnels that spanned almost the entire structure. They didn't lead into the Firelord’s chamber or any private rooms, but any public room or hall had at least one passage, possibly more if it was large. While it took him some time and getting lost several times to map it out, these tunnels were perfect for what he needed. None of them led him directly into rooms, but some tunnels got him close enough to make a mad dash to his destination without being seen.
These tunnels were built so that the Firelord and his family wouldn't have to lower themselves to witness the servants actually serving them more than was necessary. For some reason, sharing the halls with his underlings was too much for the Firelord to bear. Zuko found that to be a ridiculous reason to build such an expansive system, but it did serve his purpose.
The only issue he took with the tunnels themselves was that they weren't built with much care for the people who needed to use them. It didn't matter if the passages were comfortable or looked nice; they were built to be utilitarian and allow the working class to do their jobs. Because of this lack of care for the poorer class of people, the tunnels were built with poor ventilation, rough walls that were cut at odd angles, and narrow walkways filled with tripping hazards.
Every step Zuko took kicked up dust that made him choke in the stifling heat, and he had to duck to avoid webs. Zuko didn't blame the servants for not keeping up appearances in a place not meant to be seen, but it did make him wonder if they could be fixed. He knew it wasn't healthy for anyone to use these halls regularly.
While he was happy to avoid detection in the main halls, that didn't mean he had these tunnels completely to himself. He knew he didn't belong here, and it didn't take long for him to be caught and reminded of this.
The first time Zuko got caught, it was by a scullery maid who was passing by on her way back to the kitchen. At first, she didn't pay him much mind, but once she got a look at him, she panicked. She tried to remain polite as she made her desperate attempt to herd Zuko back to the approved passage. She was persistent. It took ten minutes for Zuko to get her to understand why he was here. By then, a small crowd of curious servants had gathered around him. They let him stay, as they had no choice, but none of them seemed to believe his story.
Cohabitation was tense. Zuko tried to go by without drawing attention, but now that they knew he was here, the servants were on high alert. Each time they caught sight of him, they would stop what they were doing to bow, even if he was just trying to scoot by. Zuko tried to convince them to stop, but it did no good. They assumed it was some sort of test on their loyalty. Zuko couldn't blame them, given how abhorrent the royal family had been.
Even with the lingering discomfort, Zuko found a small solace in these ordinary people. They were not analyzing him for weaknesses during the conversation. They were just good, honest, simple folks trying to make a living. Zuko knew things would never change if he didn't take the first steps, so he began to spend time around them. Conversation had been stunted on both sides, but once they settled down a bit, they found they had much in common with their prince.
Zuko found that most of the servants were quite nice. The ones that were not were growing brave enough to show him their true nature, and that was a victory all on its own. Zuko could handle an honest asshole, and he didn't expect everybody to like him. It only bothered him when people lied about it.
The hardest step to mutual comfort was dismissing the formality. It was deeply ingrained that they should bow and use his title, and while Zuko wasn't upset with them for this, it did make him uncomfortable at times. He took the time to explain himself and the span of time it had been since he was treated like a prince, and that got most of them to understand. They slipped up occasionally, but many of them were able to drop the formality altogether and look him in the eye. It felt good to be Zuko again.
There were only a few holdouts who refused his request. Most of those were the older servants who had been in the culture longer and watched him grow up. They argued he should grow used to the title again for his own sake. He understood their point of view even if he did not like it. It was still a good sign that they were comfortable enough to deny a direct request from their prince. In the end, it was hard to argue with Grandma, so he bit his tongue.
Zuko found a new purpose in these people. He knew that he should have been utilizing his time to throw himself into studies. It was his duty to become the best prince and future Firelord he could be. He tried to return to his studies, but that task seemed insurmountable with his mind as it was. When he finally gave up, he fell into watching the servants.
It was a poor excuse to avoid his responsibilities, but Zuko was going a bit crazy with the limited human interaction, and he reasoned that this wasn't a terrible way to get some perspective on what life was like as an average Fire Nation citizen. At first, he was only watching them, but that was equally boring and creepy. After a few questions, he found they had very interesting stories to tell.
If only to delude himself into thinking he was doing something more useful than rotting in his room, Zuko committed his days to learning about these people. He wanted to know their stories, what they did for a living, and how the world looked through their eyes. Each new perspective expanded his worldview and wealth of knowledge as well as brought some much-needed entertainment.
While it was met with resistance, he began helping them with their tasks. He realized only a few days in that asking all these questions was causing them to fall behind on their assignments. If he helped them, he could continue the conversation without them being punished. It wasn't done out of altruism, but helping ended up making him feel better, and that made him want to do it more.
It surprised him, but nobody else, just how bad he was at most of the tasks. He knew he wasn't the most talented and had led a sheltered life, but this was laughable. Luckily, his effort made up for it. At least, he hoped it did. After watching him try and fail enough times, even the most stubborn realized that they weren't going to be rid of him, and they might as well teach him, if only to stop this pathetic display. They told him stories as they worked, and after enough failures, he started to be an actual aid to the team. It was mutualistic.
As time went by, he was able to dissuade their fears and convince them that he wouldn't hurt them if they let their guard down. A true connection was formed with most of them, and he had a friendly working environment with the others. The depressive haze began to lift from Zuko’s mind as he focused less on the people who didn't like him and more on the ones who did. Zuko had never had this many people be genuinely friendly towards him as a person rather than a prince. They got used to seeing him every day and grew worried if he did not appear on time. They also began to expect and rely on his help around the palace as though he were a member of the team.
That wasn't to say his new life was without its struggles. At many times, Zuko was still as prickly as a porcu-puffer. But it was easier to handle in a group. Many of them were older than him with children of their own who had gone through mood swings as well. The patient ones handled his frustration in stride, and those who couldn't gave him space.
When Zuko was finally able to open up about his degraded mental state, many of them had advice to help him self-regulate. With understanding and kindness, Zuko had fewer outbursts. When he got hit with the storm of negative emotions that usually caused him to lash out, he had better words to say so. It was no magic cure; each day brought new struggles, but it was the road to improvement.
Eventually, the wiser members of his staff recognized that Zuko had gotten too comfortable playing servant. They had run out of stories to trade him for help, but there was a comfort to be found in the familiar routine. Still, they would likely all be punished if Zuko were caught helping despite his good intentions.
Zuko was urged to take that curiosity outside palace walls, where it would be harder for his family to police his actions. He insisted on helping with a few arduous group tasks before leaving in the morning, but sadly agreed. He began to traverse the streets of the capital city. He wanted to blend in, so he dressed in plain clothes and traveled with no guards or servants.
He didn't intend to repeat his actions from the palace and instead focused on venturing out to see the sights of his home. Some places were familiar haunts from his childhood, but most of the locations he explored were spots that he never bothered to take an interest in as a child. He was surprised to find the city so colorful.
Even as he tried to blend in, people took notice. Rumors spread, and before long, this too turned into an opportunity to meet his subjects.
Word spread faster than Zuko had anticipated. It started with only a few people recognizing him, and then it became a few people coming to see if he was truly walking amongst them. It was soon after that Zuko found more and more people coming just for the chance to meet him. It felt surreal to have people travel an hour just to say hello.
Similar to the palace servants, these people were wary of royalty at the start. Zuko knew his family’s reputation well enough to know why. Fortunately, as word spread of the encounters, Zuko was met with more excitement and curiosity and less suspicion. It wasn't long before these people began to tell him their stories. Unlike the servants from before, they gave their stories completely unprompted and without much warning. Zuko found that he didn't mind.
Zuko was amazed to discover that the average citizen didn't seem to harbor as much hatred for the other nations as he was led to believe. Most of them were just tired of the endless war and having propaganda constantly rammed down their throats. The people that met with him were genuinely interested in the stories he had from his travels and had many questions about the other nations. It was completely different from how the nobility had treated him. His stories were so popular that he had to repeat them every day, often many times each day.
Unfortunately, due to the smear campaign his family had run against the world, misinformation and prejudice still reared their ugly heads. From school age, a child was taught that the world was broken, and this was the Fire Nation’s way to spread their prosperity. It was easier than he had thought to change their perceptions when he started describing the abysmal state they had left the world in. Zuko approached this gently, with a great deal of understanding and empathy. It was upsetting to hear what they had learned, but he couldn't hold it against them. Before he lived through hell, he had believed these things too.
When he couldn't make an excuse to avoid it, Zuko also spent time with his family. It was unavoidable at some points. His father remained evasive, but Azula had become a constant. They ate at least one meal a day together and pretended not to hate it. Zuko learned to ignore the insults, but it was more difficult to dodge the comments she used to fish for information. At some point during all of this, she had noticed him disappearing into town, and now she wanted to know where he had been going. Fortunately, Zuko had become good at playing dumb and avoiding giving any answers, and Azula didn't want to seem desperate, so she always pretended she was bored of the subject at some point. She figured she would have plenty of other meals to drag the information out of him.
As the divide between Zuko and his family grew wider, Zuko found himself dwelling on the gnawing feeling of being wrong. That he was somehow “other” from them. A foreigner in his childhood home.
Azula had told him that everything would return to normal when Zuko had his honor back. His father had acknowledged that he had redeemed himself, and he had proven it in the eyes of the nation. The promises were met. He had been welcomed home in as grand a way as he had always dreamed, but things still didn't feel right. It wasn't just his growing discomfort with the nobility or preference for the commonfolk; whatever this was, it went deeper.
Something had changed in Zuko on a fundamental level.
It wasn't long after he established and settled into his new routine that Firelord Ozai extended his welcome for Zuko to join him in the next war meeting. Zuko had heard that this meeting was very special, somehow, and only the most important people in the Fire Nation would be there. Not only was Zuko welcomed into such an important meeting, but he would be seated in a place of honor by his father’s side.
This was everything he had ever wanted and worked for. He had fought for his right to be part of the last meeting. Now he was an honored guest. As a child, he would have been elated, and he should have been equally excited now. Instead, the thought made him nauseated.
The night before the meeting, his mind tormented him with memories of the last war meeting he attended. He was a child again, forced to relive the Agni Kai that changed his life. He felt the full force of his father's scorn and the searing pain of failure. He awoke with an overwhelming feeling of dread and spent the morning failing to distract himself from his own mind.
Zuko had a lump in his throat and that same horrendous feeling in his stomach when he was finally getting seated for the meeting. Many of the faces in the room were familiar from his childhood and his nightmares. He could never forget them, as they were the same men from the last meeting. Their disapproving expressions had been seared into his mind. Zuko tried not to look at the man whom he had spoken against as a child.
Unlike before, the generals treated him with the utmost respect. It was a stark difference from how he was once treated with scorn. He was now a prince, rather than a child who was where he wasn't wanted. Try as he may to ignore it, the way they snuck lingering glances at his scar made Zuko’s blood boil.
Zuko was pulled from his thoughts by his father, who placed a hand on his shoulder. The gentle contact should have made him feel better, but it did quite the opposite. From the outside, it was a caring gesture between father and son. But Zuko knew better than to trust the heated touch of this man. No words passed between them, but their eyes met briefly. Zuko could not shake the feeling that his father was taking amusement from his poorly concealed discomfort.
Zuko was unable to hold that gaze and quickly broke eye contact. It must have been some kind of test, a fight for dominance, because Zuko knew instantly that he had lost. Ozai did not remark; he merely chuckled at the small act of submission.
These horrid men took turns with greetings and congratulating each other on being masters of the universe. Ozai and Zuko remained silent. Ozai showed no interest in unnecessary formalities, and Zuko felt stuck to the floor, seated where he was told. He wasn't even sure if saying hello would earn him a punishment. It didn't matter much; these men didn't seem like the sort he wanted to greet.
As the meeting finally began, Zuko tried to tell himself that this would be completely different. A few nightmares won't shape reality. A plan as truly horrible as the one he spoke out against before wouldn't be commonplace. He wouldn't need to speak out again. He was being silly.
Moments later, the horror set in as his fears were founded.
Zuko felt he was a child once again, sitting as the sole source of sane thinking in a room full of monsters. Zuko spent the next few hours rooted in place, fully still, as he listened to the most unbelievably evil plan he had ever heard. He had thought nothing could be worse than what he had already witnessed, but this took the cake. This somehow topped any nightmare he could think up, and he had always considered himself creative.
That same awful feeling he had once felt as a child overtook him like vines smothering another plant. Disgust, horror, and outrage. Unlike last time, a pervasive hatred for the monsters that even dared suggest this nestled its way into the pack. The childish innocence that had him once believe that they simply did not realize they were wrong was long gone. These men were once again suggesting acts of horror against humanity that Zuko could never stand by. The only difference from last time was the scale.
The plan was simple yet devastating. The Firelord would board an airship that would be positioned over enemy terrain, harness the power of a comet once it was in range, and use it to scorch the Earth Kingdom. It would be the total annihilation of an entire continent. Not only would the people die, but the unique plants and animals as well. There was no word for this except genocide.
When all was said and the gruesome details had been discussed at length, the room was filled with the sickening applause of his father’s loyal generals. The excitement was palpable in the air. Even Azula seemed excited. Not a single person saw a problem with wiping out an entire continent. They spoke instead about what to name the new land.
Zuko wanted to scream.
The room suddenly felt too small and swelteringly hot. Zuko wanted to run, or scream, or find some way to stop this. If he could just find the right words and the right way to tell them that they were wrong, maybe their prejudice could be remedied like that of the townsfolk. An idealistic voice said that if he could just find the right way to say it, maybe he would get them to see these people as people.
Except that voice came from what remained of his childish ignorance. Logically, he knew no matter how hard he tried to find the words, evil would never change its mind. These men were beyond any hope.
Gone was the explosive self-righteous nature he had displayed the last time he was here. This time, he would stay silent for the sake of survival. The lesson had been harsh, but he learned it. This was not his place to go off childishly ranting about human rights or the right to live. A dissenting voice would never be tolerated in the Fire Nation.
Even as the shame filled his heart, Zuko stayed mute. He had worked too hard to throw it all away, repeating the same mistake. He earned the right to sit here even if it meant he would have to sacrifice his soul.
Silent.
Obedient.
The perfect prince.
The meeting seemed to last an eternity, but the moment it was socially acceptable to do so, Zuko clambered out of the room. His legs were unsteady as he fled to his room, but they carried him nonetheless. His thoughts weren't together enough to warn him how he might look to anybody traveling the main halls. Only the urgent need to escape sat at the forefront in his mind. He barely managed to shut the door to his room before he collapsed to the floor.
Regret wracked his body along with violent trembling. He clutched onto the nearby trash can and emptied what little content he had managed to force into his stomach. He felt feverish and freezing cold simultaneously. His head spun, and his stomach turned sour with acid. While he knew speaking up would have changed nothing, he was disgusted with himself for being a bystander nonetheless.
A sick little voice reminded him of his uncle. Tormented thoughts played through his mind of how ashamed he would be. His vision was invaded by the look his uncle had given him in Ba Sing Se. The disgust and hatred that were there.
Was this what he chose for his life? Did he fight so hard to regain his honor for a lifetime of playing the role of bystander to atrocities so horrific that it was inhuman? Was this what honor meant to these people all along, and he was just a child too naive to realize it?
These questions revolved around in his mind as he lay in a pile on the floor. This torment took up the better part of two hours. He couldn't even fend off the exhaustion enough to pull himself off the floor. He told himself that this discomfort was the least of what he deserved. Even as his physical symptoms ebbed away to a dull numbness, there was no salve for his mind.
What a pitiable creature he was. His mistakes played before him like a dying man reliving the highlight reel of only his worst moments. He thought perhaps he would rather die, actually. To add more guilt, he selfishly began to focus less on the people that would be hurt and more on what his own future would hold. He knew that he must be an awful, self-absorbed creature if he could possibly focus on his own plight with billions of lives being threatened.
As the second hour turned into a third, it became clear to Zuko that no good would come of this emotional shitstorm if that was all he did. Guilt and thoughts alone could never fix this; only direct measures could change the course they were on now. It was also clear by his inability to accept this horrible reality and move forward that he couldn't allow this to happen. He must take action against it if he expects to survive the guilt.
Newfound resolve was fine and dandy, but it wasn't much good without a plan. As it stood, every important leader in the nation was vehemently in favor of this plan. Zuko wasn't actually sure if there was truly a way to stop it without breaking that unity. For him to succeed, he needed support. Stopping it on his own seemed unlikely, and the avatar was, for all intents and purposes, dead.
His thoughts were cut short as a painful feeling in his side reminded him of the dagger hidden in his waistline. He shifted his lying position only enough to alleviate the pressure and pull the blade out. It was the beautiful pearl-handled dagger his uncle had given to him during the first attack on the Earth Kingdom. While he had once attempted to give it to a boy who needed it more than he did, Zuko was glad now that he still had it. With his uncle so far from him, he kept it on him always as his most prized possession.
Never give up without a fight.
As hard as he tried not to dwell on their broken relationship, the glint of the blade made him recall his uncle’s wisdom and kindness. He wondered what his uncle would say if he told him of his father’s dastardly plan. He wondered if he would have any wisdom or even the ability to stop it himself. It was tempting to run to him, to beg for help, but he knew he couldn't. His last few attempts to speak had been met with silence. Zuko would have to solve this on his own.
Zuko carefully stashed the knife into the other side of his waistband, where it was more comfortable but still on him and hidden from prying eyes. Icy as his connection to his uncle was, he still loved him more than anybody else. This blade served as the only physical reminder of the bond they once shared.
With his memories safely tucked away, he set back to the business of finding an ally.
His first thought was to warn the Earth Kingdom. An advanced warning might allow for greater evacuation, but that was assuming they believed him at all. They had no reason to trust the prince who helped take down the capital city. Even if they did attempt to launch a counterattack, it wouldn't likely do more than slow them down a bit. The Earth Kingdom was mighty, but the Fire Nation had a much greater military with abundant resources, a solid plan, and brand new airships. The ground-based troops of the Earth Kingdom wouldn't stop them once the firestorm started.
Convincing anybody in the Fire Nation to revolt would be suicide for everybody involved. The majority of the troops wouldn't risk their lives. While some would, he doubted the few that would could do enough damage to sabotage their ships or stop their launch. A small insurrection wouldn't be enough.
Each path he walked down led to a dead end. As the possibilities dwindled, Zuko was led to the realization that his only choice that wouldn't end in bloodshed was to convince his father not to do this. He had to plead the insanity of all this and beg his father to spare the lives of people that he held no love for. It seemed an impossible task, but this was monstrous. Even Ozai could be made to see reason if it was forced in front of him. No sane man could actually go through with this plan. The generals and citizens were all too scared or brainwashed to defect, but Ozai had nobody to fear.
Zuko could only hope that he was old enough to earn enough respect for this level of discussion.
Zuko finally heaved himself off the floor with a new determination. Despite his stubborn resolution to stop this, he still found himself pacing ceaseless circles as he practiced what he would say.
Zuko knew this was all a game of dominance. He needed to be direct without appearing to challenge Ozai’s authority. He had to be convincing without sounding manipulative or confrontational. He had to point out the issues with the plan without directly insulting it. But most of all, he knew that he needed to avoid displaying weakness if Ozai was ever going to respect his stance. Ozai did not suffer the opinions of weak men. The mental gymnastics were making his head hurt.
Show no fear, show no emotion at all. Calm. Logical.
Each time Zuko tripped and messed up one of these points, he would start back over from the beginning and apply what he learned from the last attempt. He was still only talking to himself, but it felt like playing hot potato with a hand grenade.
Zuko kept a listen on the hall and peeked out when he heard footsteps. One by one, the generals who were staying in the palace trickled by, headed to their rooms. Presumably, the remaining ones retired to their homes, but Zuko gave it some time to be sure. The anticipation was almost worse than what he was about to have to do.
Almost.
The dinner part dragged out into the early hours of the morning. Zuko expected they were all celebrating themselves and their greatness. That does tend to take time.
Finally, the last of the guests petered out into the night, and the Firelord returned to his chamber. Even after all these years of banishment, Zuko still remembered his father’s habits. Ozai would be alone for another hour before also retiring.
As a child, Zuko used to sneak around, following him. He knew there would be hell to pay if he was caught, but the curiosity was just too great. Zuko wanted to know what a day as Firelord looked like. The curiosity of his childhood was long gone.
Zuko’s momentum came to a halt as he stood before the great doors to the Firelord’s chamber. It was nearly two in the morning, and all the halls were silent. Almost everybody slept except the night guards that patrolled the outer walls, him, and his father. Despite the hour, he knew his father sat on the other side of that door, likely going over documents once more. He was dutiful in his evil endeavors.
With one last run through of his speech rocketing through his mind, Zuko knew it was time to act. Before he could change his mind and retreat completely, Zuko gave a knock. He intended the sound to be firm and steady but not aggressive. Instead, the shaking of his hand only made it sound timid. Zuko was starting to think he ought to knock again when a firm voice called out.
“Enter,” Ozai commanded clearly even through the door.
It was now or never.
Zuko took deep breaths as he stepped into the room. He needed to get the shaking under control if he was going to be respected for what he had to say. He was quiet as he closed the door so as to cause his father as little disturbance as possible. He respectfully bowed his head once he was turned back to the room.
“Good evening, father.” Zuko managed to croak out past the sudden dryness of his throat. He cursed himself for the hint of fear his voice betrayed.
“Zuko, it is quite late. I was not expecting to see you again tonight. When you did not come to dinner, I assumed you had gone to bed already. To what do I owe this surprise?” Ozai’s voice sounded warm from an unknowing ear, but Zuko heard only ice. His father was not glad to see him and was clearly displeased about his skipping the celebration dinner.
A chill of fear went down Zuko’s spine.
Ozai was already angry with him, and he hadn't even said what he came here to say. His self-preservation begged him to retreat. To come back when he hadn't already broken an invisible rule and upset the already volatile man. Unfortunately, he knew that if he fled now, he would never return. He would do this, but he would do this scared.
“I, uh. I'm sorry to inturrupt… I just…” Zuko wanted to wince away from the way his father raised a brow. With one minuscule facial shift, the Firelord efficiently expressed his impatience. Zuko diverted his gaze to give himself a reprieve. He couldn't stutter over his words if he was going to make it to the point.
Zuko gathered his courage and blurted out the point. “It’s about the plan from earlier.”
There was no going back now that it had been said. They were having this discussion now. To his surprise, Ozai’s expression shifted to something that more resembled pleased.
“Ah, wondering what your role is? I admire your enthusiasm.” His father sent him a smile that made him feel worse. He had never been pleased with Zuko before, and this was not at all how Zuko wanted to earn it. “I was going to wait to tell you and Azula tomorrow, but since you're so excited, I suppose we could discuss it now. Come, sit.”
Ozai gestured to the place across from him. Zuko moved closer but only slightly. He was hesitant to be in close proximity with the man, and he knew sitting down would be a mistake. Sitting would hinder his ability to move quickly if, and more likely when, things went south.
“Well, that's not exactly it…” Zuko started hesitantly. “I wanted to discuss the plan as a whole. It seems kind of.. Intense. In burning the Earth Kingdom so suddenly, there won't be any time for evacuation. All those people will die.”
Zuko hoped for a spark of regret or sadness, something that told him that his father acknowledged the lives that were set to be lost. The tragedy they were rocketing toward. Disappointment settled in the pit of his stomach when Ozai’s only response was a scoff and a dismissive wave of the hand.
“I should have expected such weakness from you. All that time with your uncle has made you spineless. His pusillanimity is as corrosive to resolve as acid.” Ozai’s words dripped with contempt. It was apparent just how much Ozai hated them both. Zuko could almost feel his father’s burning disappointment radiating from the burned flesh of his face. The brand almost felt fresh.
Zuko was rooted in place, struggling to recover from the abuse. Ozai stood from his perch and crossed the room to slowly circle Zuko like a hungry predator over their wounded prey. The sudden invasion of his personal space had Zuko feeling cornered. His father’s gaze was undoubtedly predatory; he moved like he was hunting for the slightest opening to attack. A flinch. Zuko knew better than to show his fear on the outside, but that didn't help much with the hurricane of emotions he was feeling.
“You misunderstand, Prince Zuko. The point of this is the death of those people. They are in our way. Occupying land that should be ours. This comet is a time of rebirth.” Ozai’s circling had stopped where he stood behind him. Zuko could not see him. Zuko could not easily defend himself. He could only remain still and pray that an attack would not come. His father’s hands fell suddenly upon his shoulders. His grip was searing hot against his skin even as his blood ran cold.
“This world will be ours, Zuko,” Ozai leaned in so that he could speak quietly into Zuko’s ruined ear, almost a whisper. A surprised intake of breath hissed between Zuko’s clenched teeth as he felt the heat of Ozai’s breath on his skin. His father’s grasp only tightened when he heard it. The hint of weakness he was needling for.
With Zuko trapped in his grasp, the roles were reversed. Ozai continued his own speech, now attempting to bring Zuko around to his way of thinking.
“You have such a narrow viewpoint on this. You're being very naive, Prince Zuko. You're viewing this only in the sense of destruction and death, instead of birth. This comet will be a time to fix this wretched world and finally end this eternal war. We will destroy the greatest threat to the Fire Nation, and the rest of the world will bow to our power. It will be the final blow that ends the violence and restores peace to the world.
“Together, we will rise from the ashes like a glorious Phoenix. We will take to the sky and bring new life to this ruined world. Those who remain will gaze upon us in awe. As they should.
“The world has always been shaped through fire and ash. Long ago, the dragons harnessed the power of fire to shape the world to their liking. Now we will do the same. This corrupt world longs to be reset. For us to wipe away the sins of our ancestors and lead those who remain into a glorious future of prosperity.
“When those who remain are granted this world of abundance, they will know us for the greatness we possess. They will worship us as their new gods. I have set the game board and put the pieces in place for us to achieve our destiny. We simply need to take what is rightfully ours.”
Zuko felt his father press closer; the heat of Ozai’s chest against his back made him want to squirm. Only the firm hands on his shoulders prevented him from creating some distance between them. Fuzzy memories of pain from his childhood flooded Zuko’s mind. Memories he had suppressed to protect himself. Every time his father touched him, he hurt him. And what Zuko hated most was the simple fact that he walked in here willingly.
Foolish child.
Zuko had been naive here, that much was true, but not about his worldview. He had been foolish to think there was any hope Ozai would change his mind. Not only was it impossible to talk reason into his father, he was and would always be a monster, but Ozai had slipped into insanity somewhere along the way. To believe himself a god reigning above everybody else was nothing short of delusional. This was sick, and Ozai along with it.
“You’ve been good for me lately. You’ve played such a good and dutiful prince since your return.” The compliments would have made him swell with pride if Zuko still believed anything this man said. “Can you do this, Zuko? Can you join me and follow your destiny?”
Something set in Zuko’s jaw. It was all just bullshit manipulation. Ozai was trying to pull on his insecurities and eagerness to please him to make him change his mind. Zuko was nothing if not stubborn. He had wavered on many morals, but this crossed the line.
Words like destiny and honor were meaningless if he lacked the empathy and morality to back them up. In his travels, Zuko had learned that an honorless man needs only to be kind to have worth. He had learned that destiny was shaped by the choices made along the way, not set in stone. And more than all else, he had learned that only the empathetic choice would lead to a future worth having.
Fuck destiny.
He knew he would never shake the fear of the man he had been struggling with since birth, but fear would never silence him again. Reignited in his blood was a familiar anger that burned hotter than fear ever could. His determination was not so easily shaken. He had traveled to the ends of this earth, fueled by a stubborn drive alone. He would not bow to a man with a sickness of the mind. He would be the voice those people deserved, even if he did not deserve such power.
“Answer me, Zuko.” Ozai hissed in a threatening tone, ever impatient. It lingered as a threat, but it only hardened Zuko’s resolve.
“No.” The word slipped out so easily, but the tone was firm. Zuko expected instant repercussions, but his father fell oddly silent for a moment. The anticipation was worse than the open threats.
“Excuse me?” Ozai hissed again before following it up with a less harsh tone, one that gave Zuko a chance to change his answer. “I don't believe I heard you correctly. Let me give you another chance. I asked if you would be joining me in embracing our destiny.”
Zuko took a moment to steel himself. There was a high chance he would have to face his father tonight. In fact, it was a certainty in his mind. Even the threat of that was not enough to break Zuko’s resolve.
“You heard me correctly, father. I refuse to stand by your side as you commit genocide on innocent people.” Zuko’s words were firm, no wavering in his voice. Gone was the shaking from before.
“Interesting. And disappointing. I had hoped you had grown up, but it seems these last few years have done little for you. Pray tell, if you will not join me, what will you do?” Ozai questioned, his voice mimicking one of false calm. Zuko felt the man’s finely manicured claws dig into his shoulders. He felt the threatening heat from those palms. He knew Ozai was angry. This question was a trap, little more than a formality to put the final nail in the coffin Zuko was burying himself in. The grave of a traitor.
“I will not help you, and I will not stand aside and let you move forward with your deranged plan. I-” Zuko hesitated for only a moment. He wasn't actually sure what he was going to say before he blurted it out. “I will have to stop you.”
The words sank like a ship in the Arctic. Only cold silence greeted it.
The two stood still for what felt like an eternity, both rendered speechless for the moment. Neither quite knew exactly what to say to such a shocking statement. They each awaited the other to make a move, but neither quite knew the next move yet. This was immense. Ozai was quicker to slip back to what senses he had left.
The Firelord let out a low chuckle, like he had heard a funny little joke rather than a declaration of war from his own son.
“I'm almost impressed. I would be impressed by the strength it took for you to stand up to me, were it not outshone by the cowardice of your words. You are—”
“Kindness is not cowardice. Empathy is not weakness. It takes a lot more strength to understand and be kind to your enemy than it does to attack out of ignorance.” Zuko raised his voice, interrupting the monologue his father was about to spew. He was sick of listening to a deranged old man’s spiral into madness. There was nothing of value to be found here.
Feeling the heat of Ozai’s palms begin to rise again, Zuko finally broke out of his father’s hold with a sudden twist of his body. With his freedom regained, he quickly put some distance between them before Ozai could recover enough to react. Now with the space to look at each other, he fixed his father with a harsh glare.
Ozai let out another humorless little laugh. Clearly, this was all very comical to him. “I see your lips moving, but I hear only your uncle’s words. I suppose you aren't yet old enough to think for yourself. Or perhaps that babbling old fool really has poisoned your mind.”
Zuko bit back the rage that wanted to spill over at the slander of his uncle. Losing his temper would only make him vulnerable to attack. That was likely Ozai’s whole plan. Make him emotional to weaken him.
Zuko took a deep breath and put that anger aside in favor of focus. His voice was still firm, but he didn't let his anger slip out. “You blame Uncle, but you couldn't be more wrong. This was a lesson you taught me.”
“I taught you this garbage? Now I know you're lying.” Ozai waved him off as though he were little more than a bothersome insect.
“You’re the reason I was forced to learn any of this. Had you not banished me, I would have done everything I could to be the perfect prince for you and remained ignorant of the evil we create. I would have kept my mouth shut and followed your cruel plans out of a pathetic desperation to please you. All I ever wanted was for you to approve of me and love me as your son.
“Instead, you cast me out, broken and scarred. You made suffering be my teacher. And I did suffer. I hunted to the ends of the earth desperately for your avatar under the foolish belief that finding him would earn me that love. I risked my life for you. All for nothing.
“When I was at my lowest, a starving wanderer, I realized I never had a home to begin with. I had the illusion of one, but I was alone. When I couldn't hold out on my own in the Earth Kingdom any longer, I found salvation in the hospitality of the commonfolk there. They fed me, gave me a place to sleep, and taught me an honest day’s work. I learned the kindness of strangers. Even in a war, with resources running low, they helped a traveller with a bad attitude and nothing to offer in return.
“In Ba Sing Se, I served strangers tea. Strangers that would have been considered so far below me in birthright. I was so far from a prince it was laughable. Nobody cared who I was or where I came from. We were all refugees running from something. They treated me with the respect that was due to your fellow man. I learned humility. There was no shame in making a life there. Amongst good people.
“While a younger me never would have expected this, I've come to realize that your greatest gift to me was this scar. My banishment. You gave me the chance to learn from the world how to be a good man. A kind man.”
Zuko had puffed with pride. Anger and fear were forgotten for a time. He was proud to finally get the chance to speak his mind and stand up to his father.
Ozai shook his head, bringing a hand up to pinch at the bridge of his nose. He found Zuko’s rant to be childish. “I banished you to find the avatar, not play peasant.”
“I did find the Avatar, and I caught him three separate times. I was so damn close to bringing him to you.”
“And yet you never did! You failed your task until I sent your sister.” Ozai raised his voice to a shout.
“Azula failed too!” Zuko yelled back at twice the volume. “Even your best men failed! Are you kidding me? Your greatest fighters and soldiers all failed! At least I got close! At least I kept trying!”
“And failing! Trying is worth nothing without results. You needed Azula there to take on his little friends before you finally got the nerve to end him! But you still couldn't manage on your own!”
“Good!” There was a moment of pause as Zuko relished in the shock on his father’s face. “I’m glad to have failed your stupid mission! In fact, as long as we’re finally being honest, you might as well know that I wasn't even the one who shot him down in Ba Sing Se. I was trying to capture him alive because I don't want blood on my hands. Besides, killing him would only restart the avatar cycle. It was never my goal to kill him. If he had been, I could have done that a year ago.”
“But… Azula said…”
“Surprise, Surprise, Azula lied!” Zuko waved his hands about in the air like a mock celebration. “Azula always lies. You shouldn't be stupid enough to think you're the exception. But don't feel too bad, she didn't lie to manipulate you, she lied to pin this mess and all the shame that goes with it on me.”
“How is killing the avatar, the single greatest action anybody could do to ensure the victory of the Fire Nation, somehow shameful…?” Ozai was quieter, talking carefully now. The confidence in his voice had retreated in favor of seeking the truth. It was clear to him that he was missing a great deal of information.
“Because that waterbender girl is a healer. I let it slip somehow that there was a significant chance he’s alive, and suddenly, Azula changed the narrative. All the glory and honor I got for making the killing blow would crumple to ash and shame. Sure, she could have told you the truth, that she fatally wounded the avatar, but there was still a chance he was alive. But then you would have sent her back out to finish what she started. Why go through all that trouble if she could just pin it on me and enjoy being home again? Travelling that much can make you pretty weary.”
Silence spread between them again. This time, Zuko felt he was the victor. Judging by his father’s expression, he was genuinely upset that Azula had lied to him and was now going down the rabbit hole of doubting her every word.
“I hope he’s alive.” Zuko was the one to disturb the silence. Ozai’s eyes locked on his, but he didn't flinch from the eye contact. “I hope he’s still out there so I can repay him for all he’s done for me and apologize for everything I did. He had no reason to help me after I tormented him and captured him, but he did.
“I would have died in the biting cold of the North Pole had he not brought me to safety. And when I freed him from Zhao’s prison, I got knocked out during the retreat. He could have left me unconscious for Zhao, but he didn't. He damn well knew I was going to capture him myself. He knew who I was. My mask—”
“You’re the blue spirit?” Ozai cut him off with an incredulous tone. He had heard of the feats of the blue spirit. The criminal wanted by the Fire Nation had become a bit of a local legend, especially after learning what he did to the Dai Li in Ba Sing Se. Many of the stories weren't true, but as the name grew, so did the tales.
“Yes, I am,” Zuko said proudly. There was a strange satisfaction to be found in the look his father made. He almost looked impressed, even in his disbelief. Zuko knew this marked him a traitor for certain. It was worth it. “I only shed the mask in Ba Sing Se after I freed the Avatar’s sky bison.”
“Then you were a traitor before you even stepped foot back on Fire Nation soil.”
“I suppose I was. But I don't regret it. My only regret is that it took me so long to do it. My stubbornness was my own undoing. Time and time again, I refused to learn my lesson. I bashed my head against the wall and got angry when it didn't move out of my way. But I'm listening now.
“I refuse to bow to you any longer. I refuse to grovel at your feet and beg for the love that will never come. Instead, I will stop you, and I will help the Avatar return peace to the world we’ve destroyed.”
Zuko had never spoken with such conviction before. He meant every word and would stand by them to his last breath. He spoke each word as if his life depended on it.
Unfortunately, it did.