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It was a lovely morning, Zuko had thought. As he exited his room, and was greeted by two servants, offering him a variety of breakfast options.
“Eggs and Rice is fine.” He says, seeming better than usual.
“Has something happened, my lord?” One of the servants asked, taking notice of his happy expression.
He was confused for a second. Did he need a specific reason to feel good?
“No, no, just… woke up feeling good I suppose.” He told them.
“Very well. We will get you your breakfast as soon as possible.” The two servants seemed delighted that he was happy.
He guessed it was a nice change, as it wasn’t often that he was like this.
This day is going to be nice, he thought.
He made his way to the dining hall, and was going to seat himself when a servant rushed over and got his chair for him.
“Thank you- whats your name?” He asked the lady.
The lady’s eyes widened.
“Um- my name is Irimo, my lord.” She says, bowing slightly.
She looked rather nervous.
“Well, thank you Irimo.” He smiled.
If her eyes could get wider, they certainly did.
“Oh- of course!” She smiled back.
Soon, the chef arrived with his breakfast, a beautiful display of Eggs and Rice on his plate.
“Thank you very much.” He smiles.
Soon, during Firelord Zuko’s breakfast, word travelled fast of his good mood. Some were excited, others couldn’t believe it.
As Zuko made his way to the throne room, he heard the whispers of the palace guards stop. He wondered if it really was such a big deal. He then remembered who the previous rulers were, his sister for a frighteningly short amount of time, and then his father before that…. Yeah it makes sense on why they found it odd. He didn’t think his father ever had a genuinely good day that didn’t involve copious amounts of inhumane terror.
He sat upon the throne, the fire around burning lightly. Warm, but not burning.
He was bored, reading through some scrolls that had been placed beside the throne earlier. Those of which were mainly small decisions about architectural changes in the city.
That was till his uncle entered the room.
“Ah, Uncle Iroh.” He smiles, leaving the throne to hug him.
“Hello Firelord, Zuko.” Iroh smiled back, embracing the hug.
“I’ve already told you that you can just call me Zuko, not much has changed.” Zuko says warmly.
“But it makes you sound powerful! And you are! I am proud of you, Zuko.” Iroh tells him.
“Proud of me for what? I haven’t done anything.” Zuko asks.
“For being you.” Iroh says profoundly, as if his words are ground breaking.
“I can see you’re still as cryptic as ever…” He grins, laughing a bit.
A moment of silence passes when Zuko notices Iroh’s expression grow serious for a moment.
“I assume theres a bigger purpose for your visit other than to see me?” Zuko asks, pacing back to sit on his throne.
“Well, yes…” Iroh confirms.
Iroh seems to avoid eye contact with the firelord.
Zuko turns back towards him, a bit concerned.
“What is it?” He asked, urgency rising in his voice.
He was scared to admit it, but the first problem his mind went to was… Ozai. Maybe that somehow he had escaped his cell- or worse.
“Just… sit.” Iroh told him, as he walked to stand by his throne.
Zuko did, quickly and carefully.
“Is it-” He attempted to ask.
“Yes.” Iroh answered truthfully.
Zuko’s eyes widened.
“Did he-” He went to ask another question.
Did he escape? Did he get his bending back? Did he kill one of the guards? What happened? All of those thoughts ran through his mind, over and over again, in seconds.
“He died, Zuko.”
He… what?
That was the one thing he hadn’t expected…
“The guards and some medical staff checked. It was confirmed an hour ago. They just didn’t tell you first because… well… you must understand.” Iroh explained.
Zuko didn’t know what or how to feel.
He didn’t even know what he felt.
He was just… stunned.
“Zuko? Are you alright?” Iroh asked, setting his hand on his nephews shoulder.
“I- I don’t even-” Zuko let out a heavy breath.
“I mean- I feel so confused-” He muttered, readjusting himself in his seat.
“Nephew, I understand-” Iroh began, but Zuko didn’t let him.
“I shouldn’t feel confused, Uncle! He- he is terrible- was terrible! He planned to start the world over with Sozins comet, he fought the avatar, he thought everything he was doing was righteous and just!”
He moved from his seat, pacing his was in front of the throne, “He- He took part in genocide, and war and he- he burnt my face! He challenged me, a 13 year old boy, to an Agni Kai- he fought his son and showed no mercy! He made his daughter crazy! I shouldn’t feel anything but joy and relief!” He shouted.
He felt tears run down his face as he hyperventalited. His hands burned with fire but he quickly extinguished them.
“I- I don't- I can’t-” He muttered.
He felt his Uncles arms wrap around him, comforting him and helping him calm down.
“Its okay, let it out…” He soothed him.
Zuko hugged his Uncle tightly, crying into his shoulder.
“This feels familiar…” Iroh mused.
“Yeah…” Zuko replied.
After a few more moments in each others warm embrace, they let go.
“Its not only normal, but also okay to be confused, Nephew. You are having to come to terms with not only the death of Ozai, but also everything you never got to say or do to him. Every emotion that you have felt towards him- they are showing themselves now, because you are no longer in danger. He is no longer a threat to you, and your mind knows it. You are completely safe, and your mind knows it.” Iroh told him.
“However you feel about his death is completely valid. However you choose to cope, depending on your strategy, will be valid. You can feel angry, you can feel sad, you can feel happy, or anything else. There is no ‘correct’ way to feel right now.” He finished.
Zuko took some time to soak these words in. Of course he would need more than a few minutes to fully comprehend the things his Uncle said, but as long as he heard them, he was alright.
“I… Just… thank you.” Zuko said.
“Of course, Nephew.” Iroh smiled, hugging him once more.
Zuko took a couple more deep breaths, making sure he grounded himself before talking again.
“Where… is he?” He asked with clear hesitancy.
Iroh grimaced, “The infirmary. I insisted that he should just be kept in his cell. Its not like he was going to bleed out everywhere…” Iroh muttered.
“How did he die?” Zuko asked as they began walking towards the aformentioned infirmary.
“Last thing I heard, they believe it was starvation.” Iroh answered.
“But… I did make sure to administer food delivery…” Zuko thought aloud.
“My guess is that he stopped himself from eating. I bet he felt pathetic. As he should.” Iroh said, his voice getting darker near the end of his sentence.
“Right…” Zuko whispered.
They arrived at the infirmary a few minutes later, a couple more guards at the door than usual.
Hes dead, hes not going anywhere. Zuko wanted to say.
“Your majesty.” A guard said, bowing and allowing him entry.
The infirmary was almost empty. It had been for a while, unlike during the war.
Zuko didn’t even need to ask where he was before he was being led to the furthest room.
The doctor leading them stopped right before opening the door.
“We checked his condition multiple times. No pulse, no breathing, nothing. We came to the conclusion that he starved to death, somewhere between his dinner and breakfast time.” The doctor said, allowing the men in.
There he was, in all of his cold, pale, sickly glory.
Oh how the old Lord has fallen.
Zuko felt him release a breath that he didn’t know he was holding in.
“He looks so… weird… and… way too calm.” Zuko observed.
“Indeed…” Iroh agreed.
As he continued to observe his sick excuse of a father, he only felt his anger climb.
Iroh seemed to notice as well.
“Would you like a moment alone?” He asked.
Zuko thought for a moment. He could get a bit of time alone. Time to rant and rave about how much he hated him. How much of a sick and disgusting bastard he was. Yet he couldn’t- he wouldn’t.
Zuko turned to the door.
“No. Dead or alive, he deserves no more of my time.” He said, then exited the room.
Iroh smiled. He admired the Firelords restraint.
Iroh walked over to the dead man, his face contorted in disgust. Ozai had started to smell. As his eyes grazed over him, he started to recall each wound- each burn and scarred patch of skin- that of which Iroh himself had inflicted.
Yes, he lied to Zuko, and yes he got the staff too as well, but why should they tell him? Tell the Firelord that his Uncle took care of his biggest threat. The one thing that gave him the worst nightmares- no. Spare him.
“May the Spirits have mercy on your soul.” Iroh spat before leaving the room as well.
When he got back to Zuko, he was discussing funeral rites.
Ozai, of course, wasn’t going to get any of the same rites as the previous Firelords have. Though the others shouldn’t have gotten anything good, Ozai was the only one they could start on now.
Iroh waited patiently for his Nephew to be done with his discussion, till Zuko turned to him.
“May I know why you stayed back?” Zuko asked as they started to make their way back to the throne room.
“Oh, nothing much. Just wishing him the after-life that he deserves…”