Work Text:
Izumi comes to him the day after her sixteenth birthday. She’s tall, taller than most girls her age, and in that he sees traces of her mother, as he does in every bit of her personality. Like the mature air she has around her — the very air that surrounds her right now as she approaches the dais where he sits. Zuko extinguishes the wall of flame to see his daughter better.
“Izumi,” he chides gently as she bows. Izumi rises with a sheepish grin. Zuko pats the space beside him for her to sit on, but she shakes her head.
“Fire Lord”—she trails off when Zuko raises an eyebrow, and changes course—“Dad. Fire Lord Dad.”
Zuko smiles. “What is it, Izumi?”
“I needed to talk to you,” Izumi mutters. “But not at dinner, because it’ll make Mom upset.”
“Oh.” He feels the smile on his face slipping. “Talk to me, sweetheart.”
Izumi shifts on her feet. “So I’m of age now ….”
“Yes.”
“And if anything happens to you then I’m Fire Lord, right ….” She stops and her face turns pale. “I mean, obviously I don’t want anything to happen to you, obviously.”
“Obviously,” Zuko repeats, unsure of where this is going now.
“But if it does.”
“If it does?” Zuko prompts.
“If it does.” Izumi swallows, then sits on the ground, mimicking his stance. “Dad, I can’t even decide what to serve at tea without asking you or Mom. And that’s just one of my million shortcomings. How am I supposed to rule an entire nation?”
Zuko sighs, but not unkindly. He gestures for the guards posted at the door to leave, then tells them to turn down any incoming visitors. The Fire Lord won’t be receiving any other audience today. Instead, he rises, steps off his dais, and joins his daughter on the ground. He takes Izumi’s hand between his and rubs it slowly.
“My love,” he says, “you won’t be alone, you know.”
“I know.” Izumi sighs. “I know, I’ll have my council. But—”
“Not just your council, Izumi,” Zuko cuts her off. “I know in this scenario I’m dead, but—”
“Dad!”
Zuko laughs. “I know. Sorry, love. But it won’t just be you, okay? You’ll have Mom, if fate allows. You’ll have Uncle Aang and Aunt Katara — you’ll have everyone,” he concludes, because naming every single one of his friends would be counterproductive. She gets the point anyway. “Everyone who loves you will be there, cheering for you, ready to help you every step of the way.”
“But what if I make mistakes?”
“Then you’ll fix them.” He smiles. “And you’ll learn from them. That’s what mistakes are.”
“I’m not that great, Dad,” she mutters.
“Hey, neither am I, and here we are.”
At least she smiles a little. “But I’m just … it’s a lot. I’m not ready.”
“You’re not, right now,” he agrees. “But there’s still a lot of time to learn, Izumi. Just between us two,” he drops his voice to a whisper, making sure to keep an amused tone, “I’m not planning on going away anytime soon.”
It doesn’t make her laugh — if anything, her expression sours even more. “You were sixteen when you were Fire Lord. And you were ready.”
Is that what this is about?
“I shouldn’t have been,” he says quietly, remembering the last Agni Kai with his sister, his uncle’s insistence that Zuko would make a better Fire Lord. The hope and expectation placed on his shoulders by the entire world. No sixteen year old should be deemed mature enough to take on a crown, no matter how victorious they emerge. “And I wasn’t ready, Izumi. I made mistakes, too, and there were a lot I had to learn.”
Zuko gently runs his hand through her hair. “You’re already worried about it, and it shows how great you’ll be — the Fire Nation deserves a leader like you, who worries about their power and what good they can do with it. But you don’t have to worry. Not right now. I’m still here, you know, and I’ll still be here for a long time, to guide and teach you. Okay?”
Izumi nods. Zuko smiles again.
“I’ll make sure you’re ready, Izumi, when the time comes. And then — and only then, my love — will you take the throne.”
Izumi would make a much better Fire Lord than him; this much he’s sure. Zuko was thrust into power within a world still healing from the scars his nation carved, and he had no one other than his friends and uncle to support him if he fell. He had to deal with assassination attempts orchestrated by his own generals while he worked to appease his own people and the rest of the world.
Izumi lives in a peaceful world, and she has her parents, her uncles and aunts — her family — and the people. Izumi loves them, and they love her. She’s smart, smarter than he was when he was her age, and calm, has a cool head on her shoulders. She’s everything Zuko wasn’t, and she’s everything he could ever hope for, for a daughter and for a successor. She’s the source of his pride. And she’s young, and she still has a lot to learn, but Zuko will be there with her, guiding her. By the time she wears the headpiece, she’ll be ready. And it won’t be until years later — Zuko would always make sure of it.
He wants to tell her all this, to assure his daughter that everything will be fine, that she will be fine. But all he says is, “I’m not going anywhere,” and that’s true enough. He’ll always be with his daughter, no matter what. He won’t leave her. He won’t make the same mistakes his forefathers did, and he’ll give the Fire Nation a ruler who is ready and well-suited for the role — just what it deserves.
Zuko kisses Izumi’s forehead, then rises, taking her with him. “You’ll make all of us proud, Princess Izumi.”