Chapter Text
“You will learn respect.”
“And suffering will be your teacher.”
How many times had those words repeated in his head, echoing around his skull, getting louder and louder until he would do anything to make them stop? How many times had those words infected his nightmares, and just when his mind escaped from them, he found himself just as haunted in the waking world? How many times had he remembered those words and regretted his actions that led to them? And how many times had he remembered them and hated the man who spoke them, hated his father?
He wasn’t sure anymore.
He wasn’t any more sure of how many times he played back the words than he was sure of how many days had passed here. Here, there were no windows and no sun, and no one would speak to him, so he had no way of knowing how much time had passed. At first, he had managed to figure it out by noting when he got tired, but without the sun to regulate it, his circadian rhythm was quickly thrown off. For all he knew, he now slept in the middle of the afternoon. He’d also tried to time it by when he was given food, but those times were so far apart that he fell asleep too many times between them to be able to really keep track. Sometimes, he’d be awake when they brought it, and other times, he’d awaken to find the bowl of rice already sitting by the door. He wasn’t sure if they just fed him at irregular times or if his new sleeping schedule just didn’t fit perfectly within the 24-hour clock anymore.
Perhaps it didn’t really matter. Point was, he had no idea how long he had been here. He only knew it must have been a while, because his body grew taller, and his hair grew longer.
He also couldn’t firebend anymore, and that, he knew, was worse than not being able to tell time. Yes, he’d been terrible at firebending before all this, but at least he could do it. Now, there was nothing, not even a spark. He could remember the cruel laugh that echoed out of his father’s throat when he found out. He could remember how his father told him that he deserved it, that losing his firebending was the undeniable proof that he should have never been born.
It was cold.
As a small bit of mercy, Zuko sometimes found that a small candle and a few matches had been left along with his food. Of course, when this happened, it was always the times when the food was brought while he slept, and the items were always hidden away- somewhere he could find it, but never anywhere that the Fire Lord would bother to look during one of his visits. Not that he ever bothered to search Zuko’s room, though. What could he possibly have in there that could pose any sort of a threat? If Zuko ever tried anything, the guards could take him out in an instant.
Even still, Zuko knew that whoever was giving him the candles was risking a lot to bring him a small amount of comfort, and he always took great care to hide them away carefully and only light them shortly after father had left (that way, he knew the Fire Lord wouldn’t be back for a while… a while, but never long enough).
Some days, the comfort of the candles was, ironically, the only thing that kept him alive.
XXX
Iroh sat in the garden of the palace, taking slow sips of tea as he watched the sun rise. It was strange to think that, after all these years, not only was he back in the Fire Nation, but that he was the Fire Lord and the war lasting a century had finally ended. He’d left the Fire Nation for what he thought was for good after his son, Lu Ten, had died. He didn’t have the heart to continue fighting in the war anymore, and he didn’t have the heart to face his family that disinherited him the minute his son had died. Looking back on it now, at least the years of wandering had taught him about life and people and what the true costs of war really were. He only wished that it hadn’t taken the death of his son for him to realize what a monstrous fool he had been, what terrible things he and his family had been doing for decades.
He sighed. Before this, he had considered returning home only once. Almost 4 years ago, he’d heard the news of his brother fighting an Agni Kai against his own son, Zuko. He’d been told why it happened, that his nephew hadn’t fought, and that his father had burned Zuko’s face. Then, Iroh had seriously considered returning and offering to take the boy away, hoping that Ozai would be glad enough to get rid of the boy he perceived as useless that he wouldn’t mind the questioning of his abhorrent parenting. But, just as he had been preparing to go, Iroh received the news that Zuko was dead, from an infection that set into his wound.
At that point, Iroh felt no need nor desire to ever return to the Fire Nation. He was sure that, if he did, he’d have committed both fratricide and regicide at once.
Yet, here he was, sitting in the palace gardens and drinking tea as if nothing had happened and he never left.
The war was over now. It was hard to believe even that, but the war that began long before he was born was finally over. Aang, the avatar, had defeated Ozai, and he hadn’t even needed to kill him to do it. And his niece, Azula, had been brought down along with him. Now, it was time for the world to heal. Part of achieving that was making Iroh become the new Fire Lord. At first, everyone, himself included, was wary of such a decision. They didn’t know how the Earth Kingdom would react to having the General that attacked Ba Sing Se being the ruler they had to stitch peace together with. But, in the end, Iroh was the only member of the royal family left that wasn’t dead, missing, or imprisoned, and most of the people of the Fire Nation wouldn’t be pleased by being assigned a ruler by the other nations. So, Iroh was the Fire Lord. He was enough of a Fire Nation royal to be trusted to have their people’s interests in mind, and he was now wise enough to want to seek out peace and reparations.
He knew he wasn’t a perfect solution. Really, no one was. It would take a long time to fix his country’s mistakes, and he doubted it could even be done within the remainder of his lifetime. It might even take longer than the war itself for the world to be healthy again.
But, he would get the ball rolling, and at the very least, he would do everything in his power to prevent any further suffering.
XXX
“... I can’t believe it’s finally over…,” Aang spoke quietly from his position on Appa’s back.
“Well, better believe it, Twinkle Toes, because that’s the 10th time you’ve said that today,” Toph responded. “Plus, it’s easier to enjoy it when you believe it.”
“I guess so.”
Their little group was, at that moment, stuck in a place between being glad the war was over and unable to believe it was over. After all, it had seemed almost impossible for them to win.
And yet, they had.
For the time being, they were in the Fire Nation, at the palace. After Ozai’s defeat and the crowning of Iroh, Team Avatar decided that they would stick around to assist in peace negotiations. Of course, peace negotiations were going to begin in all of the nations soon, but they couldn’t be a part of all of them. There were plenty of more official ambassadors and such to do what they couldn’t. They decided it would be better to stay in the Fire Nation because having their group, the group that included members from all of the nations and the Avatar, would help reassure the other nations that the Fire Nation wasn’t going to just turn around and start the war back up again. They could trust that, if such a thing was attempted, that they would be able to stop it. Aang doubted that would happen with Iroh in charge, but he couldn’t deny the possibility of rogue generals disobeying orders.
And so, they were staying here for the time being.
And they had never been so relieved to be in what was once enemy territory.
XXX
It didn’t take long for Sokka to get bored and decide to start exploring the palace. Sure, he was just as relieved and tired as anybody else, and he would normally jump at the opportunity to finally relax without worrying about attack or the war, but he just couldn’t. Ever since the war had ended, he’d felt restless and jittery. So, he decided that some good old-fashioned exploring would be a good idea.
As he wandered the halls, he was initially surprised at just how empty they were. So far, he hadn’t run into any other person. It was like their group was the only ones in the palace, even though he knew that wasn’t entirely true. Then, he realized that the reason the palace was so empty was because most of its staff were either dead or had fled during the whole thing with Azula.
This thought just made Sokka increase the pace of his exploring. Eventually, he found himself in a small wing of the castle that truly looked like no one had lived in it in a while. It wasn’t dusty or anything- of course the entire castle was kept clean- but it gave off the sense that those who cleaned it were the only ones who entered. Sokka pushed open the first door he found. Inside, it was a storage closet. He opened up a few more doors to find similarly boring rooms. He did note, however, that the rooms appeared to be residential. They were probably for some royal or noble to live in, and perhaps they just didn’t have anyone to live there at the moment. It wasn’t like the royal family was particularly large, even when it was more complete.
At that thought, Sokka silently hoped that he hadn’t accidentally wandered into Lu Ten’s old quarters. He didn’t think Iroh would be mad if he did, but he didn’t want to accidentally bring up bad memories for the old man.
Sokka pushed open another door and threw that thought away. This was obviously a child’s bedroom, and Lu Ten had gone to war; he wasn’t a child. At least, he wasn’t young enough to still have toys laying out in the open.
Now able to be a bit more bold with his snooping, Sokka picked up one of the toys he saw on a shelf. It was a small, wooden turtleduck with wheels and a string attached to one end. The wheels were well-worn, and Sokka thought about that for a moment. Apparently, even royals and nobles had toys that they cherished and didn’t replace just for the sake of getting something new.
Actually, maybe he was wrong about this being a child’s bedroom. Maybe it was the bedroom of a sentimental adult. But, no, there were childish drawings and lesson books on the desk in the corner, and in the closet he found, there were a child’s clothes.
Why was this child’s bedroom abandoned like this, left as a child’s bedroom instead of slowly morphing into that of an adult? Had its owner just moved into a new bedroom in another wing of the castle once they were older? Or, was the abandonment due to a darker reason?
Sokka didn’t know, but he found himself intrigued by the questions the room gave him. And as he continued to explore, he eventually tripped over the edge of the carpet and grabbed onto something as he fell.
“Oof!” he grunted as he sat back up.
As he fell, he had apparently pulled some sort of rope. Instead of opening curtains or something, however, Sokka found that a hole had opened up in the floor, a flight of stairs leading down into the darkness below.
“... I gotta say, I didn’t see this coming…”