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He'd sent home gifts thinking girls played with dolls and boys played with weapons. No thought, no effort. One didn't have time to think about such things when they were busy conquering a city, after all.
Then his own child died, and suddenly everything changed. He realized how quickly Lu Ten had grown up, how they'd spent more time making battle plans and fighting than they had just being a father and son.
That back home, Ozai was about to make his exact mistake with his own children. Zuko and Azula were still so young and already he wanted to groom Azula as his heir, force strength from Zuko rather than waiting for him to come into his own. And he knew his brother well enough to know that even should one of his children die, he wouldn't learn a thing.
He'll never see them as anything more than pawns.
He spent his night home mourning, burying his crown and Lu Ten's helm in the courtyard. He took the week to regain his bearings, to reflect.
Lu Ten was gone. But his brother's children still lived, and if Ozai wasn't going to be kinder to them, he would take up that mantle. Conquering and fighting no longer meant anything to him anyway, and during the siege he'd found himself giving advice to his soldiers anytime they fell out of step.
From now on, he would do the same for his niece and nephew. He would get to know and understand them as people, not as just a boy and a girl. Gifts would bear meaning. He would do his best to set them on better paths than he'd sent his own son on.
Tomorrow, I will volunteer to give them their history lesson. And we will go from there.