Chapter Text
More than anything else, he was worried.
Iroh stood in the training grounds with his nephew as he practiced his katas and Iroh critiqued him, the early morning sun shining down on their faces. It was preferred to practice outside, to be closer to Agni’s rays. The training grounds for the royal family was a large balcony on the highest level of the castle. The young boy stood there, off the platform where he would practice, sweat dripping on his brow as he took a break for a sip of water.
“There’s nothing to be worried about Uncle, the general is old and weak,” Prince Zuko said. “You said yourself, even in his prime, he wasn’t known for his firebending.”
Yes, Iroh was worried. He was worried that this general would be a better fighter than Zuko anticipated. He was worried that the general would get the upper hand on him in the fight by sheer luck. He was worried that Ozai had something else in store for the young prince. His brother had seemed to be awfully quiet about the incident in the meeting yesterday after it ended. Yes, he did call it out as an act of disrespect, but he calmed down quickly, which wasn’t a good sign. Ozai was like Iroh and Ozai’s own father, they didn’t let their sons off easy, and with Azulon, it was never a good thing for him to be quiet about something.
Putting that aside, though, Iroh was also somewhat proud of Zuko, he would make a good leader if he kept up fighting in what he believed in. That was something both Iroh and Ozai lacked. The two of them both seem to have the common trait of manipulating situations into what would benefit them the most. Zuko didn’t manipulate anything yesterday, he just spoke his mind, and it wasn’t to benefit himself in any way.
Iroh took a deep breath in, feeling the sun beam down. Agni Kais were usually held at noon, when the sun was highest in the sky. It was only a few hours away.
“You should get your rest, nephew,” Iroh stepped closer to Zuko. “You don’t want to overwork yourself so you’re tired for the duel.”
Zuko’s eyes hardened. He hated people knowing he was tired. It frustrated Iroh to no end. He always had to work the hardest, put in the most time, be the most dedicated out of everyone. It made Iroh just want to take him away and make him take a nap, only to wake him up with a cup of tea and a game of relaxing pai sho.
Zuko gave his water cup to a servant. “I’ll be fine.”
“Yes, you will be,” Iroh smiled, stepping closer to his nephew. “You’ve come a long way since I started to train you, and remember what I said.”
“Picture myself winning the duel, yes I know,” he muttered, stepping past Iroh onto the training platform. “Now, let me do the fundamental katas again,”
Iroh nodded, then he dramatically stretched his back. He scrunched up his face, trying to make it look like he just ate three bags of fireflakes in one go.
Zuko raised an eyebrow.
“Oh, Prince Zuko,” he exclaimed. “My old bones have gone out from standing so long this morning.”
“You’re fine uncle,” Zuko said. “This will take ten more minutes,” Iroh kept rubbing his back, wailing dramatically. “Sit down over there, if you’re in so much pain,”
Zuko’s eyes searched him, he could obviously tell he was faking it. Ever since Iroh had been his firebending instructor last year, Iroh could be able to train him from sunup to sundown (not that that happened very often). They had only been training today for an hour.
Iroh groaned again. “I fear only a cup of tea with my favorite nephew will fix this.”
Zuko huffed. “Uncle, I'm your only nephew,” He still got off the training platform and put on his outer robes.
“I’ll meet you in the sitting room, let me go grab my lucky teapot,” Iroh said as Zuko lingered by the doorway.
He watched him leave, then glanced at the two servants standing at the doorway, one holding Zuko’s cup of water. There were hundreds of servants in the palace, but Iroh prided himself on being able to know a large amount of their names. When he was growing up in the palace as a child, he didn’t care. The servants and guards were trained to be invisible, just like flies on the wall. Having that perspective of them only made him more appreciative as he got older, though. They saw things that people like Ozai would be horrified if he realized they knew.
Luckily, that would be foolish of Ozai, as these servants were nothing to be worried about. They were nobodies with no connections outside of their jobs with the royals, they weren’t scheming anything suspicious.
Standing there were two women, one with lines creasing her skin, the type of lines that came from experience, not age. Her smile reminded Iroh of a mother, where her happiness escaped on her lips but was strained by fear of doing the wrong thing or worry of another’s well being.
The other woman had a long slender nose and seemed to have a constant frown etched on her skin. Her name was Akari.
“He’s a little spitfire, isn't he?” Iroh said to them, making eye contact with the servant he didn’t know what to call.
She tensed and sputtered something that sounded like, “Are you talking to me?”
Akari laughed at the other servant. “Yes, he was,” She then looked at Iroh. “She was just transferred to this part of the palace. Not used to talking to royals, eh?”
She turned her head towards Akari. “No,” She said, almost like a realization. “I guess not.”
“Well good for you, because General Iroh’s the only one who’ll talk to you,” she responded. “And he’s the only one who’s nice,”
The other servant flinched and looked at Iroh expently. He only just chuckled. Sometimes he thought that Akari was trying to get fired. If anyone else saw her talking like that, she definitely would be.
“I certainly hope that I’m not the nicest, that’s a lot of pressure on an old man,” he responded. “Someday I hope my nephew deals with his temper, maybe he could take my place,”
Akari pursed her lips. “I wouldn’t count on that,”
Iroh shrugged. “He just needs a good influence...speaking of that, I should be going back to him now. Akari, could you get my ginseng blend for me?”
She nodded before bowing and exiting the training room. Iroh quickly got his teapot and went to the elegant sitting room where Zuko was waiting, expensive artifacts decorating the walls and silk curtains hung over the doorways. Zuko kneeled at the table already set with cups. Iroh noted how he was picking at his fingernails.
He took the blend from Akari and prepared the tea in silence. As they drank it, Iroh tried to bring up things he’d heard around the palace he thought Zuko might be interested in, he asked him how his lessons were going, but he wasn’t in the mood for small talk. Iroh respected that and they sat together in silence as Iroh felt the sun become stronger and stronger in his veins. He knew Zuko could feel it as well.
A guard finally entered the room, bowing to the two of them. “It is time, your highnesses,”
Zuko inhaled and stood up. “Thank you for the tea, Uncle,”
“My pleasure, Prince Zuko,” Iroh responded. “You will do well today, I know,”
Zuko bowed before following the guard through the red curtains of the sitting room and into the torchlit halls. Iroh got up himself and stretched his back before going to the Agni Kai arena himself.
The half hour before the Agni Kai started was a blur. Crowds of lords, ladies, and generals filled the stands and Iroh made his way to stand up front, next to his niece. Iroh had been to many Agni Kais in his life and any that happened in the Capitol City would have a turnout like this. The Fire Nation loved its violence, even if most Agni Kais lasted less than five minutes. Maybe it was a part of a firebender’s burden, the desire to use their skill in this gruesome way. Maybe it was because the nation didn’t have enough examples of other things fire could do as opposed to burning. Maybe being in a country run by war made these spoiled nobles long to see the bloodshed peasants knew.
Iroh thought it could be all three.
The Agni Kai platform was raised above a set of stairs that went down into darkness. Iroh didn’t even know where it led to, as the one time he fought an Agni Kai, it was while he was away working as a general. There were dark fire pits in the four corners of the platform and red clothes hanging on the walls behind the crowd, embroidered with the sign of the Fire Nation.
Finally, a gong rang and Iroh saw Zuko enter onto the platform as the fire pits lit with orange flames. He looked at the wall with his back turned to his opponent, his ceremonial cloth hung around his bare shoulders. He was so young, much too young to fight an Agni Kai.
Iroh turned his gaze to the frail old general as his breath caught in his throat. That was not the general.
He watched in horror as time seemed to slow down. Zuko turned to see his father, the man standing there like he was made of iron, tall and strong and without an ounce of doubt. Even as he was a distance away from him, he loomed over Zuko, his eyes concentrated on his trembling son. His face was shaded from the light above, so the shadows slightly hid his scowl.
“Please father!” Zuko said. “I only had the Fire Nation’s best interests at heart! I’m sorry I spoke out of turn!”
Ozai walked to him and Iroh tensed. “You will fight for your honor,”
Zuko dropped on his knees, then to the ground, bowing to Ozai. “I meant you no disrespect, I am your loyal son,” He responded, his voice becoming softer.
“Rise and fight, Prince Zuko!” Ozai said.
“No,” His voice wavered. “I won’t fight you,”
“You will learn respect,” Ozai stopped before him. “And suffering will be your teacher,”
Iroh inhaled as Ozai wrapped a hand around his son’s face, wiping a wet tear away from his cheek. Iroh wished it was a motion of a loving father, but he knew better.
He looked away.
Hours seemed to pass for the few seconds he heard Zuko’s screams, desperate and heartbreaking until they stopped suddenly and he heard something fall. It was a few more seconds before he heard a voice filled with disgust say, “Take him away,”
Iroh dared to look as some servants carried Zuko’s limp body off the stage. He must’ve passed out from the pain.
“My son has shown dishonorable weakness here today,” Ozai addressed the crowd. “And he will be banished for his shameful actions.” He then let out a wicked grin. “The day that he will be allowed to come home is the day that he brings the Avatar in chains with him.”
A few laughed at his statement as Iroh decided he needed to leave as soon as possible to find his nephew. He glanced over at Azula, only eleven years old as she laughed along with the crowd.
He looked away.
----
Iroh wanted to go see his nephew, but he knew he would just get in the healers’ ways. Part of him blamed himself for what happened. He had suspected there was something wrong with this situation, and he was right, yet he still did nothing. He still let his nephew get half of his face melted off while Iroh couldn’t even look. If he had been just a little smarter, a little more observant, and realized what Ozai had in store for his son, he would’ve taken Zuko and ran far away. He would’ve fought the Agni Kai himself, he was the one who let Zuko in the war room. If Ozai got to fight on the General’s behalf, Iroh should’ve fought on Zuko’s.
He wasn’t sure what he wanted to accomplish by seeing his nephew, though his longing was strong, but he was forced to practice self-restraint. Plus, the realization of what had happened had finally set into Iroh’s mind. Zuko was banished from the Fire Nation. The thirteen year old boy was sent away by his own father; he was banished from the country he was supposed to rule one day.
Iroh spent the afternoon packing his own things, stuffing his different robes and items in a few bags. He tried to pack only the essentials but he was finding that an extremely hard thing to do. He gave up after a while, figuring out that there was plenty of time before Zuko would be healed enough to travel.
He set aside his pai sho board, knowing what the next order of business was.
He left his bed chambers, noticing that the sun had already set that day from the absence of light escaping the paper windows. He marched his way down the halls anyway, knowing that Ozai would still be in his throne room. He was right, as a guard was posted outside.
The guard bowed to Iroh and let him in without a word. Iroh wasn’t sure if that was because of his title or because Ozai was expecting him.
Iroh entered the room, the orange flames forming a barrier between the throne and the rest of the room. It was overbearing how large the flames were. Iroh made a point to never go into this throne room for the last three years he was here. He reminded him too much of his past, who he used to be. He trained his whole life to sit behind the wall of flames, and he gave it all up for some lie Ozai told. At the time, he was glad that he gave it up, so not to burden himself with the role of leadership. Ozai’s actions were becoming more and more concerning, though.
Iroh bowed on his old knees (in his head he was bowing towards the flames, not the man who sat behind them). “Firelord Ozai,”
“General Iroh, I was expecting you sooner or later,” He responded. “For what do I owe the pleasure?”
Iroh stood back up slowly. Even if he was exaggerating earlier that day to Zuko about his spine, he still wasn’t getting any younger.
“I’m sure you know well, brother,” Iroh said, keeping his voice at a steady tone, being respectful while still blunt. His eyes darted at the large hand that was Ozai’s right before he looked back up to his eyes.
“Don’t tell me you have a soft spot for my son.”
Iroh shrugged. “I have been training him these past three years, it’s always been a pleasant experience for me.”
Ozai raised one delicate eyebrow. “You know that you’re only his master because he was falling so far behind training with Azula and her instructor.”
Iroh knew that’s what Ozai thought, but personally, Iroh thought being taught by the Dragon of the West was a higher honor than being taught by some random master.
“I am well aware of that, you know that I am,” Iroh said. “But I’m sure you also know that I would like to continue these lessons.”
“Of course you would.”
“Yes, maybe if he can work hard enough to have the Avatar coware before him.” Iroh raised an eyebrow letting a small smirk on his lips, challenging Ozai’s previous statements. The Avatar that their grandfather and father devoted so much time into looking for was now just a fairytale. Iroh knew that, but he needed Ozai to know the value he placed in Zuko.
Ozai let out a bark of laughter. It sounded fake to Iroh’s ears. “Yes, make sure to give the Avatar my best regards on your vacation.” He stared down at Iroh. “I know my son, he takes everything at face value. Be prepared to do actual work, old man,”
Iroh wasn’t one to get angry easily. It was something he prided himself on as a firebender, he never let his temper get the best of him. Others would make fun of him, as he felt other emotions much stronger, but at that moment he had to bite his tongue. He wouldn’t let his brother get the best of him, there was no point.
“I am prepared, your majesty,” Iroh responded.
“Good,” he said flatly. “Because I want the two of you gone by tomorrow, stay however long you need in the Fire Nation to get proper transport, but you’re not welcome in the palace anymore.”
Iroh’s jaw dropped. “But-but he’s unconscious-he can’t move until he’s healed.”
“I am well aware of that, General.” The flames reflected in his eyes to make them look like they were burning red. “And that is all that I wish to say to you.”
Iroh took a deep breath, then looked back at Ozai, holding onto one second where he could scream or yell at him, to try to persuade him, then he turned away without bowing.
He quickly made his way through the hallways and stopped to tell a maid to give the news about the prince’s banishment to the healers.
He figured he had a number of contacts that would be able to get him in a boat in no time, the problem was what to do with Zuko while those contacts worked themselves out. Iroh doubted that he would have time to rest tonight.
He went down corridors that he had never been to, constantly asking the maids and servants he passed for the right directions. They all seemed surprised at his request, but obliged quickly and were rather helpful to him. The royal palace was giant, as many lords and generals stayed there, as well as all the servants and guards who worked for them. Iroh had never had a reason to go to the servant corridors, until now.
He arrived outside one large room, the sounds of many women's voices echoing from inside, and waited at the sliding door. He doubted that the women inside would want a royal general to show up unexpectedly to their room.
He knocked on the wall. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but it’s General Iroh, I need to speak with one of you urgently.”
After a few seconds of silence, a woman opened the curtains. She wore a night robe and had long brown hair that she wore around her shoulders. All the servants were dressed like that in the large room, most sitting on bedrolls that were lined up on the floor. Iroh again felt guilty for intruding on them at this hour. He was thankful he got the woman he wanted to see’s name from Akari, otherwise she would be less easy to find.
“General,” the woman bowed. “How can we help you?”
Iroh’s eyes latched onto the paper panel at the end of the room. It was the only other one, and it was open, even though it was raining outside. It could very well be that the women like the sound of the rain, but Iroh could only see how the open panel could easily fit a person.
He walked past the bedrolls, the servants giving him odd looks, and to the panel, trying to stay light on his feet. He gripped his fingers onto the side, and looked down, seeing a woman on the ground, her back pressed up against the wall as the rain fell down her face and clothes. Only then he noticed a small bump on her stomach, one of her hands wrapped around it.
“You should’ve run away when you had the chance, Noriko.”
She smiled sadly. “Yeah, well...the guards would’ve stopped me.”
“I’m glad you didn’t, and I think you’ll be glad as well.” Iroh stood up straighter.
He could tell how nervous she was. The fact that she had tried to run away clearly meant that she figured out he found out who she was. He couldn’t imagine what she thought was going to happen to her.
“I am not going to harm you, or put you in jail, or anything like that,” Iroh insisted. “I swear on my son and wife’s graves that if you stay put, I can help you.”
Her brows creased together as she hesitated. “I-okay.”
Iroh stepped back from the window, only then remembering all the other servants. Their faces were a mix of fear and shock, but all their eyes were on him. Usually, it was considered rude to make eye contact with a royal, but they must’ve been too surprised to care.
“Don’t worry, I appreciate the unity you have with each other,” Iroh said, hoping to ease the tension. “I wish that my job came with more unity between my coworkers...what life without trust, though? Nobody can truly be living without unity between others.”
The servants just seemed more confused, so he decided it’d be best if he just got to the woman outside as quickly as possible, so he did.
He went outside, the rain still pouring. As usual, in the Fire Nation, though, the air stayed warm and humid. Noriko was in her night robes, a pale pink color contrasting against the dark walls of the palace. At least she wasn’t sitting in the grass anymore.
He took this time to really observe her. Her hair was a much warmer color and her eyes much darker. She still carried the same spirit, though. He was able to tell from the first time he saw her in the palace that underneath the new face, it was still Ursa.
“I would love to catch up with you, Ursa, but our time is running out,” he said to her, keeping his voice down from any passing guards as he led her away from the still open window.
“How do you know who I am?” she asked. “And running of time for what?”
“Don’t worry, Ozai doesn’t know,” Iroh said. “But I need to know the reason that you’re here, it’s because of your children, right? If you had the chance to run away with Zuko, you would?”
Her eyes widened. “Yes, yes, of course.”
“Okay, then come with me.” Iroh walked to the inside of the palace and led her down the halls and stairs as he talked. “I assume that you’ve heard of Prince Zuko’s banishment.”
“I have heard rumors,” she said from behind him. Servants were forced to walk behind the people they served. “It’s not true, is it?”
Iroh didn’t want to be the one to show her, but he had to. “You can see for yourself what happened, but he has to leave by tomorrow. I’m coming with him, and I hope that you do too.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know, wherever he wants...wherever you want. Just, maybe pack up all your stuff after we go see Zuko and we'll figure it out then. We can’t let Ozai know who you are now, though. We just need to leave.”
They went the rest of the way to the healer's room in silence, as more and more guards filled the corridors. Iroh was thankful for it, as he got the chance to think through his plans.
They arrived in the healer’s room and a guard announced their presence. Iroh had given Ursa a teapot so nobody was suspicious of the two of them. If there was only one thing that was normal for Iroh, it would be tea. Iroh just hoped they weren't getting in the healer’s way.
Iroh shut his eyes for a brief moment, preparing himself for what was about to happen as he opened them. He looked forward.
There, lying with a bandage wrapped around his delicate features, was Prince Zuko. He seemed so small, lying under the silk blankets as the healer sat at his bedside with a bowl of broth. Iroh could hear his shallow breaths as he slept, like he was having a nightmare. There would probably be many nightmares to come for Zuko throughout his life.
Iroh observed the water basin, with dirty towels over the side, burn creams littered on the bedside table with white bandages.
A yelp drove Iroh’s attention away from him. He spun to see Ursa’s face as white as a sheet as she clutched the teapot in her fingers.
Iroh looked back at the startled healer. “Sorry, she must be squeamish.” He then took a step forward, extendinging his hands. “I can feed him, if you want a break.”
“Oh, it’s no problem, General, I can just get my apprentice if I need a break,” he responded.
“Yes, well,” Iroh pondered. “I want to help….let me feel useful and you can go get some fresh air, hm?”
The healer hesitated, then he handed the bowl of broth to Iroh and bowed. “Thank you.”
Iroh watched as he left the room, then he looked to Ursa. She turned to face the wall, but Iroh could see that she was hiding the tears streaming down her face.
When the healer completely was gone, she looked at Zuko and gasped again.
“Iroh-wha-what?”
“I’m sorry I didn’t warn you, I didn’t want to remember myself.” He motioned at the chair the healer used. “Sit with him.”
She did and wiped her face before she brought her fingers to Zuko’s revealed cheek. She stroked her hand on his skin, to his ear as she sniffled.
He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be separated from Lu Ten for three years and to come back to him like this. He wouldn’t be able to handle it. It made him feel guilty for being so vague to her.
She then turned back to Iroh, her gaze hardened. “I never should’ve left….I left my babies with this monster, I left them and I knew what he was like….”
Iroh kneeled on the ground to not tower over her. “You had no other choice, Ursa. I don’t know the full story, but I know that you’re a good woman who was in a bad situation that did your best.”
Iroh wanted to add that the same couldn’t be said about him, but knowing Ursa’s kind heart, she would probably try to console him. He was not the one to be consoled now.
“What do we do now?” she asked, reaching her hand over to hold onto Zuko’s limp one.
“I’m not sure,” Iroh spoke truthfully. Ozai was putting him in an impossible situation, and Ozai knew it. “But I know that all you have to do is be prepared to never come back to this palace again.”
“This is unreal.”
She let go of Zuko’s hand and brushed a piece of hair out of his face before standing up. Iroh took her gesture to place the bowl of broth on the bedside table. He would need to talk to the healer about having to move him tomorrow. For all the war that Iroh lived through, he wasn’t sure how to deal with a burn like this. If Zuko was a soldier, he would probably be considered a lost case. The Fire Nation eliminated weakness as soon as possible.
They were in a country too taken over by war, as Ozai was treating his own son as a soldier. Burning him, then eliminating him.
Ursa brushed her fingers over her night robe to attempt to fix the wrinkles and wiped her bloodshot eyes again as she lingered by the doorway. She then furrowed her brows and looked to Iroh.
“What about Azula?” she asked.
Iroh frowned. “Azula?”
“We’re taking her with us too, right?” she clarified, her tired eyes searching Iroh’s when he didn’t answer. “General Iroh, we have to take Azula too, we can’t leave her here! I made that mistake once, I’m not doing it again.”
He sighed. “I’ll do whatever you think is best, but you have to understand….taking-or trying to take Azula with us would only jeopardize Zuko’s safety,”
She glared at him. “So Zuko’s safety is more important than Azula’s?”
Iroh wanted to tell her that she didn’t see the kind of person Azula was turning into. She was cruel and competitive and powerful, everything that Ozai wanted her to be. If they tried to take her with them, it would turn into a kidnapping. Azula would never willingly go with them, she was Ozai’s daughter to a fault.
Ursa was right, though. She was only an eleven year old. He was letting Ozai’s influence over her cloud his view so he didn’t see the little girl underneath.
“Okay,” he said. “Let’s go get her then.”