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Chapter Text

Though they never discussed it amongst themselves, not even in secret, the guards simultaneously and unanimously (and above all, quietly) made the decision to give Zuko updates about the “situation,” as they called it.

On the Day of Black Sun, Zuko committed treason and swore he would help the Avatar to defeat his father, or so the guards heard. The next thing any of them knew, Zuko was in the prison below the palace, swords flailing wildly, yelling about his Uncle. The boy was crushed when he realized Prince Iroh had already escaped, and someone managed to knock him unconscious while he was looking at the empty cell. Orders came in from Fire Lord Ozai: Zuko was no longer a Prince of the Fire Nation, and he was to be imprisoned so that he could do no more harm to the Fire Nation than he’d done in his banishment. So, for the foreseeable future, Zuko was to rot in prison beneath the palace, at least until he was old enough that he wouldn’t turn into a martyr when he was executed. And unlike the traitor Iroh, Zuko would not be given a cell with a window.

The best times, the guards agreed (but never in any location where they could be overheard) was when it was quiet enough that Ozai could ignore his son, and didn’t provide any “special instructions” about how to take care of him. Fortunately, the ex-prince stopped making escape attempts after a month or two, so the special instructions stopped coming through.

For the next several months, the rest of the summer, Zuko sat in prison underneath the palace, and it was mostly quiet, except for the occasional visit from Azula. Ozai hadn’t exactly forbidden the guards to talk to his son, but it was heavily implied, so nobody risked it. The ex-prince’s shouting had stopped when the escape attempts did, so Azula’s visits seemed louder in comparison to the now-usual quiet of the prison. Towards the end of the summer, she came down in a horrible rage and flooded the cell with blue lightning, screaming at her brother to tell her what loyalty felt like. When she left, the ex-prince twitched with electric energy on the floor of his cell, but he was alive. A young guard named Usoni unlocked the door and went in with bandages and a soothing paste for the burn on the ex-prince’s stomach. Usoni wrapped his injury and whispered that two girls had attempted to break into the prison and rescue Zuko, and that Azula had subdued them and sent them away to Boiling Rock. Zuko twitched a few times at this, but didn’t exactly respond to this information. Whether he heard what Usoni said or not, this was the first crack in the floodgates, and the guards started talking to Zuko, passing whispers along when there was a new development in the royal family “situation.”

One day, Fire Lord Ozai declared himself Phoenix King, and named Azula as the new Fire Lord. This information was passed along, and Zuko blinked in apathetic lack-of-interest. When Azula became Fire Lord and began banishing her staff, several members of the Royal Guard suddenly had a reason to find someone who was not Azula to guard, so they ended up outside the prison, near Zuko’s cell, where they were technically doing their jobs protecting a member of the Fire Nation royal family, but they were safely out of Azula’s eyesight.

News came to the palace that the Avatar, that terrifying spirit being of unknowable power, had removed Fire Lord Ozai’s bending, leaving him alive in an Earth Kingdom prison. As horrifying as this information was, Azula’s reaction was distracting enough to leave no room for fearful speculation about the Avatar. She didn’t intend to kill anyone (at least, they were pretty sure she didn’t intend to kill anyone), but she set fire to almost a third of the castle in her rage, screaming that she would answer this unthinkable insult by completing Ozai’s work and destroying the Earth Kingdom, even without the comet. Rescue operations for the palace staff took more than a week long, and then every member of the Royal Guard found themselves in the awkward position that the only remaining Fire Nation royal still present in the Fire Nation was in prison.

The prison guards soon found themselves dealing with the Royal Guard and remaining members of the Royal Staff squeezing into the hallway outside Zuko’s cell. A guard captain named Aikoyo found herself coordinating the tension between prison guards and royal guards, and then she found herself in charge of both units. Under Fire Lord Oz— Under Phoenix King Oza— Under Departed Phoenix Kin— (no, he wasn’t dead yet, that would be disrespectful). Ozai’s last commands before he’d stopped caring was that Zuko was not to be referred to as “Prince,” and he was not to be released from his cell. But the technicality that he hadn’t specifically forbade talking to the prince—talking to Zuko, was now expanded from whispers in the dark to include actually directly talking to him. So the Royal Guard gathered themselves around Zuko’s cell, bowed politely, and explained that the Avatar had removed Agni’s blessing from Ozai and that Azula had since gone missing. 

Zuko sat up. His disheveled, dirty hair covered his scarred eye and ear. His hair was burnt at the ends, where he’d given himself a prison haircut of some kind. He hadn’t been offered prison robes, so he still wore the rags of what he’d worn to break his Uncle out of prison, and the bandages Usoni had applied were visible through tears in the fabric. He looked at the guards like he was not-quite-awake or aware of his surroundings, before he nodded.

“Will he come to visit me?” Zuko asked. It came out with as much dignity as anyone could have expected. His throat was scratchy and dry from disuse.

“…Your father is in Earth Kingdom prison,” Aikoyo repeated. She was now unofficially in charge of all palace operations, once it was confirmed that her most recent predecessor had been killed in Azula’s fire, and the one before him had been killed defending Ozai’s flagship from the Avatar. Aikoyo realized that it did not bode well for her, to be the head of the Royal Guard to a royal who was not even titled anymore, but no one else had stepped up, and the job needed to be done. Not to mention, she’d never been officially appointed to her new position according to Fire Nation palace rules. “…He won’t be coming,” she finished, awkwardly.

Zuko nodded sagely, and for a moment, the guards felt that they were in the presence of a Fire Lord, not just a dirty teenager in a prison cell. The moment passed, as Zuko turned away from them to face the wall. Not knowing what else to do, the Royal Guard remained outside his cell,  and it intentionally went undiscussed whether they were protecting Zuko or preventing him from escaping. The Royal Staff brought better food than the prison rations, and Zuko ate enough of it to remain alive, but no more. Zuko was offered a bath, but he refused to let anyone touch him to help. The guards politely refused to notice that Zuko had to limp to the washtub. When he was clean, he was offered clothes. No one was sure if it would be appropriate to invite him out of the cell (no one was sure if Ozai would return, and the rumors that he’d lost his fire to the Avatar would turn out to be myth, and everyone who’d helped Zuko while Ozai was away would be punished), and Zuko never asked to be let out, so he stayed in prison, but now lived with trappings of royalty provided by unnecessary staff.

A general arrived at the palace. He wanted to move his troops out of hostile Earth Kingdom territory, back home to their families. The general was shuffled from not-sure-what-to-do guard to guard, until he demanded to speak to whoever was in charge. He was brought to Aikoyo, and after an uncomfortable discussion of formalities, she in turn brought him to Zuko. To his credit, the general didn’t show any hesitation before he bowed to the height due a Fire Nation Prince and described the situation with his troops. Zuko sat on the other side of the cell wall from the general, and his back was as straight as if he sat on the Fire throne, with a wall of flame separating him from the general instead of these iron bars.

“Are you asking me what to do, or are you asking me for permission to complete your plan?” Zuko asked. No one was ever sure if the way he spoke was the wisdom of a leader or the worry of a prisoner that he was about to be punished, but he spoke in a calm, even tone that was easy to listen to. His voice had even gotten less scratchy as he’d started talking more frequently.

“I’m asking for your orders,” the general decided, bowing once more. The guards looked at each other. With that sentence, the general had officially acknowledged Zuko’s royal status, against Ozai’s orders. Fortunately, it had happened in a prison under the palace, rather than a public space. It would still be possible to cover this up.

Zuko carefully stood up in his cell and bowed to the general, much lower than a Prince should bow to an underling. “The people of the Fire Nation have suffered enough. Remove your troops from the battlefields, and return them to their homes.” 

The general bowed politely and was ushered away. One of the guards spoke to him, and explained that Zuko had been stripped of his title, and perhaps the details of this conversation should stay secret in case Ozai were to return. The general explained that he would not be held accountable for the decision to retreat if and when Ozai returned, and that it would be better for the boy to take the responsibility of issuing orders on behalf of the Fire Lord than it would be for the general to admit to acting of his own volition. The general laughed, and suggested that maybe Ozai would put Zuko out of his misery, and he was then personally escorted from the palace by Aikoyo and gently (by way of a purely accidental fall down a flight of stairs) invited never to return to the palace.

In his cell, Zuko talked to himself. The guards had practice ignoring this, as Zuko’s nightmares were never exactly quiet, but this was noticeable, as Zuko was awake. Whispers spread that he was going mad too, just as Ozai and Azula had. These whispers abruptly ceased when it was realized this talk was treason, and also when a maid who’d brought Zuko his dinner began telling people that he’d just been doing his impression of Prince Iroh. This was a favorite among the palace guards, but Zuko hadn’t done it since before he’d been imprisoned. 

After that, everyone tried to catch Zuko doing it. He seemed to realize, and he tried to be quieter, but his voice was gravelly and there wasn’t much background noise to cover it up. This didn’t stop the guards from trying to sneak close enough to catch one of Zuko’s made up phrases. One of the guards, a young one named Risai, managed to strike up a conversation with Zuko (impressive enough on its own) and somehow slid in the phrase “I wonder what Iroh would say if he were here…”

The guards leaned in, ready for one of Zuko’s famous proverbs in his Prince Iroh impression, but Zuko went silent. “Please show him the respect he deserves,” Zuko said quietly, and the Iroh impressions stopped for a few days, much to everyone’s sadness.  Risai found himself receiving a few “friendly” punches from his fellows.

“I told you that wouldn’t work,” Usoni said once they were out of earshot.

“It could have. He’s been different ever since Azula left. Happier,” Risai said, adjusting the straps on his helmet.

“Yeah, because suddenly his prison is full of people who want to talk to him,” Usoni said, quietly. “If Ozai comes back—“

“You didn’t worry about Ozai coming back when you were giving him medical care like some kind of doctor,” Risai said.

“Shh!” Usoni hissed, looking around. “He was unconscious, he doesn’t even remember it was me, he just woke up with bandages. And I’d like it to stay that way.”

“You don’t…seriously think Ozai’s coming back, do you?” Risai asked, nervously.

“If he does, I don’t want to need to visit sick relatives, if you know what I mean,” Usoni said. Risai didn’t ask why Usoni had bothered to treat Zuko’s lightning wound if he was so worried about the consequences. Zuko was likable, in a way that Ozai and Azula never were. He made you want to help him, even though he clearly never wanted to be helped.

It was becoming increasingly awkward to be a guard in Zuko’s prison. It wasn’t Zuko’s prison, it just happened that Zuko was the only one there, and it just made sense to refer to it like that. Which was part of the awkwardness. They offered him food and clothes befitting a Prince (which he was not), and they maintained a level of discretion and formality as if Zuko was a Prince (he really was not, hadn’t Ozai forbade referring to him as Prince Zuko?), and they kept visitors from openly insulting him (it seemed a new general arrived every day, and eventually more than one came at a time, trying to have a council, but Agni knew none of Zuko’s guard would permit any of them to disrespect Zuko as the first one had), but they didn’t let Zuko out of the cell, and he never asked to be let out. 

Aikoyo ordered Zuko’s cell to be “accidentally” unlocked after he was brought food. Either Zuko didn’t notice, or didn’t care. Then the door was left visibly open. Then the guards left the prison altogether for several hours, leaving Zuko’s cell door open, hoping against hope that the boy would escape or at least move to nicer accommodations in the palace itself, but when they returned, he hadn’t moved. Aikoyo was going to kick herself, was it possible that the ex-prince’s leg still hurt too much for him to move without help? She was going to have to order the guards out, leave the cell open and provide crutches, she didn’t know how she was going to make that sound like it followed protocol—

“Am I banished?” Zuko asked Aikoyo.

She looked down at him. He sat on the floor of his cell, wearing the robes of a prince. He had a look as if he thought she was going to burn off the other half of his face.

“You’re not banished,” Aikoyo said. “We just thought…” she almost couldn’t bring herself to say it. Admitting aloud that she had conspired to try and permit Zuko’s escape would be treason if Ozai ever returned. But it had occurred to some of the guards that perhaps keeping Zuko in prison would be treason if Zuko were to claim the title of Fire Lord for himself. “We thought you might take the opportunity to escape, Prince Zuko,” she said.

“I won’t banish myself,” Zuko said, and he twisted his face like he had a sour taste in his mouth. “I won’t leave the Fire Nation again. It’s…my home.”

Aikoyo didn’t know what to say. She was starting to believe that Ozai and Azula would never return. Maybe the Avatar had taken Azula’s firebending too, Aikoyo thought with a shudder. She was starting to believe that they seriously needed to promote Zuko to Prince, and then officially make him the Fire Lord. Publicly. But it had been weeks since Azula had gone missing, it might be too late now to reveal that Zuko was in prison below the palace and Aikoyo was the guard in charge as he continued to be kept there. If Zuko became Fire Lord, she would need to find some sick relatives to visit, quickly.

“Does he not want to see me?” Zuko asked, with a pained look on his face. “I’m sorry to ask, you must be forbidden to speak about him near me—“

Zuko’s speech was interrupted before Aikoyo could ask him was he was talking about by the arrival of one of the Fire Lord’s Advisors, Taoh. He coughed nervously as he stepped into the prison, in sight of Zuko. Taoh bowed awkwardly at the height due a Fire Nation Prince, then adjusted himself even lower to the height due a Fire Lord.

“Zuko,” Taoh said, and Aikoyo made a note to thank whichever guard had briefed the advisor not to use a title, “If…if you are meeting with generals, it is only fair that you have the Royal Advisors present. To, um, advise.” The man trembled, and bowed again.

Zuko looked up, and scratched at his face. The scared teenager expression he’d been wearing fell away (so did a tear that Aikoyo politely failed to notice) and the ex-prince was as stiff and formal and blank as if he’d been doing paperwork. “Of course,” Zuko said, and he stood and performed a response bow.

Taoh started sweating nervously. They’d warned him that the acting Fire Lord was ridiculously unconcerned with proper form, but Prince Zuko had bowed the height that a normal citizen accords to a noble. This was unacceptable, but it was also unacceptable to suggest that the Fire Lord—sorry, acting Fire Lord—had made a mistake. It was completely unthinkable to notice that the acting Fire Lord had briefly struggled to stand, having trouble putting weight on his left leg. But Taoh soldiered on bravely, and announced the arrival of three generals and summarized their requests, with all the formality of a council meeting held in the proper room for it. The generals entered, bowed respectfully, and the four arranged themselves on the floor, seated in the hallway outside of Zuko’s cell. 

Aikoyo had entered the cell to talk to Zuko, and she now wondered if she should be outside the cell with the others, but she settled on holding her position directly behind Zuko, as if she was guarding the Fire Lord at council. She reflected on the situation that had gotten her into this position, guarding a Fire Lord from his prison cell. She looked at the advisor, Taoh, and the generals explaining military movements to a teenage prisoner in Fire Nation Royal robes. She was going to need to visit sick relatives, she was sure. This situation was unsustainable.

Everything was fine after that, for a long while. From his cell, acting Fire Lord Zuko ordered troops moved out of Earth Kingdom territory, and assistance sent in the form of food and workers to cities and towns that the Fire Nation had destroyed. At some point, Aikoyo realized that Zuko was essentially holding full council meetings in the prison, with a full quorum of advisors and generals, and maps laid out on the floor. The cell bars became the new “wall of fire” separating the Fire Lord from his subjects, and the meetings were always held with Zuko and his guard on the inside of the bars, and the council members outside. Publicly, of course, it could not be acknowledged officially that Zuko was acting as Fire Lord. Officially, the Fire Nation was awaiting the return of Fire Lord Azula who would either accept or rescind her advisors’ and generals’ decisions as she saw fit. Unofficially, it became known near the palace that Prince Zuko was alive, and that he was somewhere inside the palace, talking to generals and giving orders. The people imagined him regally sitting on the Fire Throne, ruling with compassion, at least until Azula returned. Also unofficially, the Fire Nation waited for Ozai to return. It could not be possible that the Avatar had stripped him of his bending. Such a thing would be unthinkably horrifying, so it, like all such things, was carefully ignored. 

Aikoyo never found herself getting around to visiting sick relatives, as she couldn’t imagine leaving Prince Zuko to deal with his new responsibilities alone. There was something about the boy that inspired loyalty in those around him. Generals came and went, and perhaps some of them held no love for the Prince, but the guards and staff that served him had come to love him. He was honest and open, and he spoke what was on his mind. He was as honorable a person as any of them had ever met.

It was weird that he didn’t yell, though. They’d all heard stories of Prince Zuko’s terrorizing the crew of his ship when he was hunting the Avatar. And when he’d lived at the palace, in the short time before he committed treason and was himself committed to prison, he was always a loud person, yelling and shouting about even the smallest things. It was like he was trying to prove he was still alive. He didn’t yell in prison, not after the first two weeks, and though everyone in attendance at council was grateful they weren’t dealing with screaming bouncing all over the walls during their discussions, they did worry that something was wrong, sometimes. 

You couldn’t always tell, but Zuko was sad. “Sad” was the wrong word, Aikoyo reflected. He acted like he’d been betrayed, but she couldn’t figure out what was bothering him. His situation had only approved since Azula had left; he now had a loyal staff and comfortable life. But his nightmares had changed from screaming in fear at his father to soft crying, and she hated that she knew this. Zuko would never show any hint of being anything other than a perfect ruler in his council meetings, and then sometimes he would cry, and he’d just be a teenager again, alone in a prison cell without his family. Sometimes Zuko would ask “is he coming to visit me today?” and Aikoyo would sadly remind him that Ozai was likely in an Earth Kingdom prison or dead, and Zuko would take this answer as if it was somehow both meaningless and absolutely soul-crushingly the worst thing he’d ever heard. 

The little Fire Lord sat in his cell, separated from his subjects by iron bars rather than a wall of flame, and it broke Aikoyo’s heart.

But he wouldn’t leave the cell, and when they offered him nicer rooms, they made the mistake of using honorifics for the Fire Lord, and he acted like their offer of a bed and windows in a not-prison-cell room was a trap.

So, other than those few little things, life went on, and Zuko ruled the Fire Nation from a prison cell with no windows, and the guards did what they did best and acted as if everything was fine.

But then everything changed when the Avatar landed in the courtyard. 

————————————————————————

“Hmm.” Iroh said, scratching his head. “I expected my nephew to come out to greet us. Something is wrong.”

“I wonder how long he waited to get crowned after we kicked his dad’s ass,” Sokka grumbled, jumping down from Appa’s saddle. “I knew the Fire Nation doesn’t do families, but from your stories, you made it sound like he liked you, Iroh. Like maybe he would’ve come out to see you, at least?”

“It has been a long time since my nephew and I have seen eye to eye,” Iroh said, quietly.

When they landed, the one guard standing in the courtyard ran up to Appa and bowed. He said he would fetch someone to talk to them, and he ran off though a door at a pace that didn’t match the calm formality of his bow. Team Avatar prepared themselves for a fight, everyone (except Toph, who’d never met Zuko) ready for Zuko to blast through into the courtyard with fire and fail to capture Aang again.

After a few minutes passed (while Katara angrily popped the cork on her waterskin over and over again, and Aang couldn’t stop fidgeting either), everyone expected Zuko to  walk calmly into the courtyard in Fire Nation robes and glare at them, like he’d mellowed out from being Fire Lord. He’d cross his arms and yell at them, but he wouldn’t actively attack them. Probably. Except he didn’t come outside.

A Fire Nation guard came into the courtyard, with several others behind her. Iroh nudged Sokka in such a way to indicate this is the Royal Guard, be careful, or something like that. The woman leading the small procession stopped in front of their group and bowed. 

“My name is Aikoyo. I have been managing palace affairs since Princess Azula left,” she said. 

“Have things really come to that?” Iroh said, raising an eyebrow. “So soon?”

“My apologies, Prince Iroh,” she bowed again, “I hope you will not find the situation in the palace to be unsatisfactory. I take full responsibility, none but me is at fault.”

“Who cares about this stuff?” Sokka groaned. “Take us to see the Fire Lord! We request an audience with him, or whatever. Look, I don’t speak Fire Nation, I’ve never pretended I do!”

Toph jabbed an elbow into Sokka’s side. “Shut up, Snoozles. They’re not speaking Fire Nation, they’re speaking Rich People.”

“Well, what are they saying?” Sokka was annoyed. Aikoyo made a careful, deliberate look at Iroh, who nodded in response.

“Perhaps we could continue our discussion in a different setting,” Iroh smiled. “Should we adjourn to the council room? Though I’d hate to interrupt a meeting.”

“The council room is not in use at present,” Aikoyo bowed again. Tui and La, there was so much bowing. Sokka hated this place already.

“I see,” Iroh said, and it came out coldly. He turned to the group of kids and smiled. “I won’t be long. We’ll talk with my nephew soon enough, I just need to have a conversation with Aikoyo.”

Aikoyo bowed again, and Iroh nodded his head. He followed her through the same door that she had come from, and some of the guards went with them, but there were still five in the courtyard watching the Avatar and his friends.

Toph punched Sokka in the shoulder, lightly.

“Ow! What was that for?” Sokka said, rubbing the spot.

“For being an idiot! Did you listen at all when Iroh and I gave the briefing about talking to royalty?” Toph gave him a look, and she felt his heartbeat jump as he flinched.

“No, but I don’t need to know how to talk to royalty! I talked to Yue, didn’t I?” Sokka crossed his arms smugly.

“Yep. And she only had to turn into the moon to get away from you,” Katara said, smirking.

“Hey!” Sokka said. “That one hurts, Katara. You should know better.”

“You’re the one who brought it up,” Katara shrugged.

“Whatever. Toph, translate the rich person speak,” Sokka said.

“Wait…that guard said that she had been managing the palace since Princess Azula left…” Aang said, slowly.

“That’s right, Twinketoes,” Toph smiled, slapping Aang on the back. “And what does that mean?”

“Um…she said “Princess,” not “Fire Lord,” so… Azula isn’t in power,” Aang said, scrunching his forehead.

“That’s good, only-person-that-paid-attention-in-the-briefing,” Toph said. “Did you get the last part?”

“I know it’s bad,” Aang said, “but mostly because of how Iroh reacted.”

“She said she was managing the palace affairs,” Toph said. “She might as well have said she was the Fire Lord, because there is no official Fire Lord.”

“What?” Katara looked up from angrily freezing her water ball into spikes.

“Obviously there’s a Fire Lord,” Toph rolled her eyes. “We know Zuko’s giving orders like the Fire Lord, but he doesn’t officially have the crown, so this random guard can’t talk about him like he’s in charge. And did you hear what she said? Zuko’s not using the council room. Dude’s probably holed up in a fancy room with pillows issuing executive orders, no way is he talking to advisors or doing anything according to protocol.”

“Okay, not to be that guy, but translate,” Sokka said.

“Zuko is a loose cannon who does whatever he wants now, and he doesn’t want to talk to us,” Toph shrugged. “I guess we are gonna have to “take care” of him, Snoozles.”

“What? We’re not here to kill him,” Aang spluttered. “We’re here to talk about ending the war!”

“We are,” Katara said, “and if there’s no way we can do that with Zuko on the throne?”

“I don’t want to talk about this,” Aang said, jumping back up into Appa’s saddle.

Katara leaned closer to Toph and gestured for Sokka to do the same. She whispered so Aang wouldn’t hear—he’d already given so much to end the war, and they wouldn’t force him to kill Zuko if it had to be done. “Toph, can you find Zuko in the palace?” Katara asked. “If we could figure out where he is, we could just find him instead of waiting for Iroh to get back and explain why we have to wait three business days to see the not-Fire-Lord.”

Toph shifted her toes in the ground, and a few cobblestones broke loose, making one of the guards jump a little. She focused on expanding her senses, feeling out as far as she could. Right next to her, the strong beat of Appa’s heart almost covering up those of her friends. Farther away, the guards on the courtyard, and more behind the door Iroh had disappeared through. And then the palace was mostly empty, but there was Iroh sitting with the guard who’d escorted him away, and…oh. Oh. 

“Guys!” Toph hissed. “Half the people here are underground.”

“In the tunnels where we fought Azula?” Sokka asked.

“I’m not sure,” Toph frowned. “There’s a lot of metal. There’s…I think there’s someone in prison down there, and they’re surrounded by guards, too. A lot of them.”

“It must be Azula,” Katara said. “The only way Zuko would ever get away with being Fire Lord was if she was out of the picture, and that’s how!”

“He couldn’t beat her in a fair fight, so he put her in jail so he could be Fire Lord!” Sokka said, punching his fist in the air. “It’s genius! We gotta beat this guy up.”

“I can’t find him,” Toph said. “I can’t figure out which one is him, and if he’s really holed up with a pile of pillows like I said, that would muffle my senses.”

“That’s okay, Toph,” Katara said. Her tone was firm. “We’ll wait for Iroh, and we’ll see what he says. But we’ve beaten Zuko before, and we’ll do it now.”

————————————————————————

Zuko wasn’t an idiot. He didn’t need windows to know what was going on outside of the little cell block. Watching the guards’ faces was a much better way to figure that stuff out. So when Aikoyo left the prison at a different time than her usual routine, after three guards came in and frantically whispered to her, Zuko noticed. Though no one volunteered any information to Zuko, he soon realized what had occurred. The Avatar had arrived at the palace. The Avatar, who Zuko had dedicated so much of his life to catching, who had removed Ozai’s firebending from him, was here. Zuko tried to work up the energy to be afraid, and found that he could not. Either the Avatar would kill Zuko, or he wouldn’t. And if the Avatar took Zuko’s bending, Zuko would kill himself. But more likely, the Avatar was here to see the Fire Lord, and wouldn’t care at all about a useless teenager in a prison cell. Sure, the Fire Lord had let Zuko make some decisions, and lead some council meetings (assuming he wasn’t overturning everything Zuko said as soon as the generals left), but Zuko had no real power. If he did, he wouldn’t be in a cell. 

After some time, Zuko heard footsteps, and muted voices. Every guard straightened as if… Zuko went pale as he realized what must be happening. It couldn’t be. No one remembered to lock Zuko’s cell (they never did anymore), and he almost considered fusing it closed with firebending, but it was too late. Aikoyo entered the prison, escorting Fire Lord Iroh behind her. Zuko’s heart stopped.

The last time he’d seen his Uncle, they were in the exact opposite of this situation. Uncle had been the one in a cell, and Zuko had stood outside yelling at him, calling him names. Since that time (well, since Zuko had been imprisoned during his attempt to rescue Uncle and Agni, Uncle was right, Zuko never thought anything through, what had he planned to do once he’d saved Uncle, not that Uncle needed it), since that time Uncle had become Fire Lord, obviously. There was no other explanation for the changes that had occurred in the prison. Father and Azula would never have assigned Royal Guard to Zuko, and Zuko couldn’t think of anyone other than Uncle who would care enough to have nice food and clothes sent down. Uncle had even let Zuko make some decisions, sending generals down to the prison rather than letting Zuko back in the council room (and Zuko knew he’d messed up so badly that first time Uncle let him in the council room that he’d never get invited to the council room again).

Every time Zuko had asked the guard Aikoyo if his Uncle would be coming down in person to visit him, she always responded that his father was in prison too. That answer made Uncle’s feelings clear—Uncle had finally realized that Zuko was worthless, and would not be providing hugs or tea as he’d done in the past. At least he still cared enough to let Zuko remain alive and in the Fire Nation. Zuko would rather be dead than banished again, and he knew that Uncle knew that.

But now, here Uncle was, arriving in Zuko’s prison. He was going to notice that the guards had left the door unlocked, and he was going to punish them. He was going to notice that Zuko had made decisions at the weird not-quite-council-meetings that didn’t protect the Fire Nation’s image, they needed to be viewed as a strong nation that would never back down from a fight but Zuko had ordered troops to retreat. He was going to… 

The realization hit Zuko all at once. The Avatar landed at the palace the same day that his Uncle came to visit him? Uncle was going to offer Zuko as a trade to the Avatar, “kill my nephew but don’t take my firebending” or something like that. Zuko couldn’t blame him, but he hoped he’d get a chance to apologize Uncle before they went through with it. The original rescue plan that landed Zuko in prison had included “beg Uncle for forgiveness,” and that was the only part of the plan still possible, so Zuko was going to do it.

“Prince Zuko? Are you all right?” Uncle stood outside the cell door. Not “nephew,” not “Zuko,” Uncle had said “Prince Zuko.” Agni, it hurt to hear him say that, that fake title that Zuko knew he’d never had restored. 

“I’m fine,” Zuko said, prostrating himself on the floor. If he could go any lower, if he could sink into the floor right now and spare Uncle his presence, he would. But then Uncle wouldn’t have anything to trade to the Avatar. Zuko had practiced this apology in his head every day for months. “Fire Lord Iroh, I apologize for my—“

Everything was suddenly noise and loudness. Zuko regretted saying anything beyond “I’m fine,” he shouldn’t have tried to interrupt the Fire Lord. Zuko didn’t move from his position on the floor, just in case anyone was throwing fire and needed Zuko’s face for a target. Uncle was yelling, Aikoyo was doing the not-quite-yelling loud voice guards used on royalty, and Zuko couldn’t make out what anyone was actually saying. All he could catch was Uncle, saying words like “unacceptable” and “shameful” and “completely intolerable,” and then the cell door was opening and Zuko’s heart was beating so fast he thought it was going to beat out of his chest, and then he felt someone’s hand touch his shoulder but he couldn’t breathe, and he couldn’t get air to explain politely and formally that he couldn’t breathe in accordance with protocol, and he couldn’t bow any lower, his forehead was already on the ground, and his chest seized up but then thankfully, everything went dark and quiet as he passed out.

————————————————————————

“Holy badgermole,” Toph said, jumping up and startling Katara, Sokka, and Aang. “Iroh just killed Azula.”

“WHAT?!?!” Aang jumped down next to Toph, his glider in one hand.

“Wha—?” Sokka blinked sleepily, because somehow he’d taken a nap against Appa’s side while they were waiting for Iroh to come back.

“Iroh went underground where all the people were, and the weird heartbeat is not there any—wait, there it is.” Toph crouched and rubbed her hands on the ground, trying to get a better picture. “Person in a cell is having a panic attack, but still alive. Iroh is there, so’s the guard he was with.”

“Azula’s having a panic attack?” Katara squinted. “That doesn’t sound like her.”

“It doesn’t feel like her,” Toph said, concentrating. “I don’t know who else it would be, but this doesn’t feel like Azula.”

“Let’s go down there!” Sokka raised his boomerang in one hand. “Either get the guards to take us there, or bust our way in! What if Iroh needs help?”

Katara popped the cork on her waterskin and pulled the water into a whip. “Let’s go.”

“Maybe we should wait—“ Toph started, but Aang had already leapt across the courtyard to the big door and was blasting through it, yelling something about being the Avatar and needing to go to prison, and Sokka and Katara were running after him, so Toph rolled up her sleeves and followed.

Somehow, the four of them managed to tumble their way through the halls and down staircases to the prison, and by then they could hear shouting. They pushed past the guards, and they really couldn’t have predicted what they were about to see.

Iroh and the guard-woman were both in a prison cell, shouting at each other as the door stood wide open. The guard had one hand on a bundle of red fabric, and the other was on a weapon that she hadn’t yet unsheathed. Iroh was standing over her, gesticulating wildly and breathing fire, shouting and looking for all the world like he deserved the name “Dragon of the West.” And  then the pile of fabric twitched, and there was a person in there. And that person was Fire Lord Zuko, who was unconscious, and Toph could feel that his heart was doing some not-good things, and he definitely wasn’t breathing the right way, but then a lot of things happened at once.

Iroh got most of the way through yelling something that started with “these completely intolerable conditions for my nephew—“ when Aikoyo pulled her dagger out of its sheath and pointed it at him. Sokka yelled “For the Water Tribe!” and leapt to tackle Aikoyo, but hit his face on the cell bars and fell over, inadvertently knocking Katara’s water whip out of the way, which hit Aang, who’d been in the middle of knocking over some guards with an air blast. Toph metalbent the bars out of the way, twisting them to the floor and effectively exploding the cell into nothing, which gave Sokka the chance to jump over the ruins of the cell bars, directly onto Iroh, who’d been trying to push Aikoyo’s dagger away from him and now found himself on his back with Sokka on top of him. They landed on Zuko’s leg, and there was a soft “crack” sound that went unheard in the chaos. Aikoyo leaned over Zuko protectively, now threatening Sokka with the dagger, and Katara bowled her over with a blast of water before Katara was grappled from behind by one of the guards.

“Everybody, STOP!” Aang yelled, and clapped his hands, blasting a powerful wave of air over the cell block. Everyone pretty much froze where they were. “What is happening?”

On the floor, Zuko coughed weakly. The guard holding Katara released her, and quickly knelt next to Zuko. He ripped open Zuko’s shirt and looked at Aikoyo.

“Take care of him, Usoni,” Aikoyo said. She stood up, and she was soaking wet from Katara’s attack, but she bowed politely to everyone present. “My apologies for this disturbance, Avatar and friends.” Below her, the guard (Usoni, apparently) was attempting to remove a lot of bandages from Zuko’s abdomen. No wonder the guy was having trouble breathing.

“What is happening?!?” Aang asked again, looking at Iroh, then back at Aikoyo, then down at Zuko.

“This is the Fire Lord,” Toph said, pointing at Zuko, who was still crumbled on the ground. She laughed, suddenly. “Oh, spirits, this is going to be a fun conversation.”

————————————————————————

The first time Zuko woke up, he panicked to find himself in a bright room with walls too far away to touch, and a familiar screen near the too-soft bed he was in. The palace hospital, where the palace doctors worked. Zuko screamed, and when he thrashed around in the too-many-blankets, he felt a horrible familiar pain in his leg, and he screamed louder. Someone held him down and forced him to drink a cup of tea, and then everything went dark.

————————————————————————

“The situation here is more terrible than I realized,” Iroh said quietly. He sat with the rest of Team Avatar around a small table. They were served tea by a quiet servant who didn’t meet anyone’s eyes.

“I’ll say,” Sokka sighed, poking at some snacks that had been placed on the table. “How do we know this food isn’t poisoned?”

“There is no Fire Lord,” Iroh said. He said it like he didn’t believe it was true. He said it like the world was ending, or had already ended and now they were waiting to die. He said it like there was no hope in the world, which was funny, because Sokka was pretty sure that “not having a Fire Lord” was a good thing for the world.

————————————————————————

The second time Zuko woke up, he was strapped down. He was still in the hospital. He struggled against the straps and screamed and it felt good to release that tension, all of the worries he’d been carrying trying to be a good prisoner for Uncle Iroh came out in a whoosh of breath, and he knew some of it was fire, and it felt good. Up until they held him down and made him drink more drugged tea. He realized it was drugged and he laughed and laughed and screamed until he couldn’t any longer, and then he fell asleep.

————————————————————————

“Sure there’s a Fire Lord,” Sokka said. “Fire Lord Jerkbender. Fire Lord Worst Nephew, don’t you remember? He’s in the hospital, I guess we could visit him, but it’s not like being injured doesn’t make him not the Fire Lord. Or does it?”

“My nephew is not Fire Lord,” Iroh continued. “Not officially. He is no longer even a prince. My brother stripped his titles. In order for Zuko to become Fire Lord, first a different Fire Lord would have to reinstate his title as a Prince, and then Zuko would have to wait until that Fire Lord abdicated or died.”

“Where would we get a different Fire Lord?” Katara asked.

“We don’t have to!” Sokka brightened. “If you’re the only one with a title, you’re the Fire Lord now, right Iroh?”

“Not exactly,” Iroh sighed. “My niece Azula was the last person to carry the title of Fire Lord. She has been missing from the palace for weeks, since she learned that Aang removed Ozai’s bending.” Iroh hoped he didn’t say that with a shudder. He’d certainly gotten better at hiding the shudder, but it had been particularly difficult after he’d first learned that the Avatar could remove another person’s bending ability. It was a terrifying revelation. “The servants believe Azula is trying to rescue her father from Earth Kingdom prison. They also believe she’s gone insane. But this doesn’t answer your question: I am the only titled Fire Nation Royal in the palace, but I need to openly, publicly, and officially challenge Azula for the right to the throne. If she fails the challenge or doesn’t show, I become the Fire Lord.”

“Literally, let’s do that right now, I do not see a problem with having Uncle Friendly as the Fire Lord,” Sokka said. “Only problem left is can I PLEASE have the rest of your rations Katara I’m just really hungry—“

————————————————————————

Zuko woke up again, and he was awake enough to wonder how long he’d been asleep. His legs were still strapped down, but his hands were free. Someone with a blurry face walked over to him with a tea cup, and held it to his lips. “I don’t want to drink that—“ Zuko spluttered and pushed it away. “I can sleep without it, I promise—“ more people were coming over. Someone’s hand was on his shoulder. Zuko closed his eyes and let the words come out. He begged.

Aikoyo tried to give Zuko some tea as soon as she saw he was awake, but he pushed her away, voice slow and slurred from the sleeping drug. She gestured for help.

“No doctors, please,” Zuko said. Was he crying? Aikoyo didn’t have enough training to pretend not to notice this. “I just want to go back to the cell, just ignore me, I’ll heal eventually, I did the first time—“ he kept babbling as Aikoyo tried to gently give him the tea, with the help of Usoni and the doctor. 

“Make sure he fucking stays down,” Zuko said, through gritted teeth, in a weird deep tone. Aikoyo blinked a few times. She recognized that voice. “Make sure he doesn’t hurt himself before the Avatar gets him,” Zuko said in his Iroh impression, and he laughed hysterically. 

“Please, I don’t want doctors,” Zuko begged, and his eyes closed and his body went limp. Aikoyo laid him gently down on the bed. 

“It might be best if he wasn’t here, actually,” the doctor said, not looking at Aikoyo. “I treated Prince Zuko in this room after the Agni Kai with his father. He must not have very pleasant memories of me.”

“Usoni, can you work with the doctor and figure out how we should be treating him?” Aikoyo rubbed her forehead with one hand. Even while he was unconscious, looking after Zuko was a full-time job, and it was exhausting. 

“He didn’t seem to mind when I bandaged him in the prison cell,” Usoni suggested helpfully. It wasn’t very helpful.

“Please tell me you aren’t suggesting we intentionally move the acting Fire Lord to a prison cell again,” Aikoyo said. “We only got him to leave it because he was unconscious and didn’t have a choice.”

“Look at him,” Usoni gestured. “…You heard him. It’s too bright for him in here, and he’s gotten agoraphobic so this room is way too big for him, and he hates the idea of doctors.”

“I really wish I had a better plan,” Aikoyo sighed. “Move him.”

————————————————————————

“My nephew is not well,” Iroh said, lowering his head. “He believes that I have been Fire Lord since Azula left the palace months ago.”

“Then what has he been doing?” Aang asked. “He’s not going to hunt me down and capture me, right?”

“He believes, through no small fault of those guards who have allowed him to believe it, that he is in prison, I am the Fire Lord, and I have been ordering him to practice diplomacy by holding council meetings as the Fire Lord.” Iroh sipped his tea.

“Again,” Sokka said, “I see no problem with this. Why can’t Iroh be the Fire Lord?”

“How many people do you think I’ve killed, Sokka?” Iroh asked. It came out in a friendly, kind tone, as if it was the most natural continuation to the conversation he could possibly think of.

“Um,” Sokka said.

“But we’ve forgiven you—“ Aang started. Iroh held up one hand.

“The Dragon of the West may be in my past, but it is still part of who I am. The other nations will never live in peace with the Fire Nation while I sit on the throne,” Iroh continued. “And I think we all know why the current Fire Lord cannot continue to rule, even if it is only in title.”

“Crazy Blue,” Sokka said. “She’s still Fire Lord even though she hasn’t been here for months?”

“I warned you that the politics of the Fire Nation court would be confusing to you,” Iroh sighed. 

————————————————————————

Zuko woke up in his cell, and the world made sense again. He wanted to cry. What kind of state was he in that the world only made sense when he was in prison? There weren’t any windows here, there was no way to get any sunlight, and he’d once cried for hours after Azula locked him in a closet for only 20 minutes, there was no way he should feel comfortable or safe in a prison. 

One of the guards was messing with bandages on Zuko’s abdomen. The injury Azula had given him, which was still healing. Zuko hoped it wasn’t infected again. Zuko looked around. No more doctors. No more bright hospital room. Things were okay. They shouldn’t be, but they were. He laughed.

He’d begged to be brought back here. How pathetic was that? He laughed harder.

A prince of the Fire Nation—no, an ex-prince, Father had removed Zuko’s title. Wasn’t that funny? Wasn’t that just hilarious? Zuko shook with laughter, and somebody held him by his shoulders and shook him back and forth.

There was something heavy wrapped around Zuko’s leg. He tried to move it. It hurt like hell. Not as bad as the burns, though, and that was funny too. Someone forced him to drink tea, and it didn’t feel like a doctor trying to push “mercy” on him, it felt like a punishment, and that was okay. That was familiar. Zuko took it and fell asleep again.

————————————————————————

“Just so I understand, then,” Toph said, “the plan is for you to declare yourself Fire Lord and then promote your Avatar-hating nephew into the position instead?”

“That could work,” Katara said slowly. “And then when we take him down, we end the war. We’ve already defeated Ozai, how hard could it be to take down Zuko? I’ve done that alone before, and if our whole team was working together—“

“Defeating the Fire Lord doesn’t end the war,” Aang realized. “If troops were withdrawing…it was on Zuko’s orders from prison, not because I punched Ozai?”

“You begin to understand,” Iroh said. “But I should warn you, it is not common knowledge outside of palace walls that Zuko has been issuing orders from prison. It is assumed that he has been acting as Fire Lord in all ways, despite being unable to take the title, and I would rather we let him keep his dignity than give the entire Fire Nation a crisis of faith in their leadership. But you are correct, Aang—we’ll need Zuko on the throne, officially and publicly, making reparations and ending the war through diplomatic channels, or we won’t be able to end hostilities at all.”

“So we wait until the stupid jerkbender can go two hours without being sedated, we take him out of prison and do all those things to make him Fire Lord, and then we beat him up until he does what we say,” Sokka shrugged.

“He’s not imprisoned. He hasn’t been for months. He only thinks he is. …And he is, also, physically in prison,” Iroh admitted. “He requested to be moved back there, and Aikoyo refused to let me prevent it. Perhaps he might begin to improve if you would try to heal him, Miss Katara?”

“No way,” Katara laughed. “The only healing he needs is a good kick in the—I’m sorry, I know he’s your nephew, I just—“

“He’s hurt you. He’s made many mistakes. He’s done bad things,” Iroh said. “Which is only going to make our task harder, but it does not change the necessity of the task.”

“Where do we start?” Aang asked.

Iroh looked uncomfortable. “I have to challenge Azula for the throne. We need an official Fire Lord making decisions, not having one is worse than having me in charge.”

————————————————————————

Zuko woke up and his whole body hurt, which was an unfortunate indication that he was going to remain awake for a while. He was still in his cell, but the door was ajar, which was annoying, but not as upsetting as the discovery that half the wall had been exploded away, the metal bars twisted all over the floor. Aikoyo was sleeping in a chair next to the hospital bed that Zuko was in, and he was close to panicking but he didn’t want anyone to force him to drink any more tea, so he took deep breaths and tried to remember the breath control lessons Uncle had always talked about.

He wasn’t quiet enough. Aikoyo woke up and put her hand on her sword before she realized it was just him and relaxed. I’m not even a threat, Zuko realized. That’s how absolutely useless I am to Uncle. No wonder he’s going to trade me to the Avatar. 

“Try to breathe, Prince Zuko,” Aikoyo said, and she was using his title. Why was she doing that? Iroh must have restored it to make Zuko a more valuable hostage. “Do you remember what’s going on?”

“Fire Lord Iroh came to visit me in my cell,” Zuko said. Aikoyo almost corrected him, that Iroh hadn’t been Fire Lord when he came, but while Zuko had slept, Iroh had challenged Azula for the throne, and she hadn’t shown up. Iroh was now the Fire Lord, and he’d quietly reinstated Zuko’s title. Now the majority of the Fire Nation would never need to know it had been gone in the first place.

“What happened after that?” Aikoyo asked. This was a test, Zuko knew it was a test, and he was going to fail. He could barely remember what happened after that, he didn’t even know how much time had passed since then. It couldn’t have been long, or everything would hurt less.

“I interrupted the Fire Lord,” Zuko said, looking down at his hands. “I can’t even apologize right.” He looked up at her, and seemed to sense that she wanted him to keep talking, so he kept going. “Um. I guess he punished me?” This came out as a question. Zuko didn’t think the Uncle Iroh he remembered would punish him for speaking out of turn, but now Iroh was the Fire Lord, and clearly their relationship had changed. And Zuko’s leg was broken, again. The same one that had gotten broken under Ozai’s orders not long after Zuko was first imprisoned. This was a lesson, and suffering was supposed to be Zuko’s teacher. Iroh was now the school principal, that was the only difference. The metaphor got away from Zuko and he chalked it up to the sleeping drugs still in his system.

“The Avatar and his friends broke into the prison. There was a fight,” Aikoyo said.

“I don’t remember that,” Zuko said, trying not to panic. “I’m sorry.” Aikoyo didn’t look like she was going to hurt him. She probably couldn’t without Iroh’s orders. Unless Iroh had already given them. Zuko breathed slowly and tried to concentrate on not hyperventilating.

Aikoyo said some more words. Zuko tried to listen, but it blurred together. There were new rules. No more “don’t speak unless spoken to,” no more “stay in the cell or leave the Fire Nation forever,” no more “try to escape and whichever general most needs to prove his loyalty to Ozai will break your leg.” Now it was “you’ve never been mistreated or kept prisoner,” and “you will act as the Fire Lord without the title or the crown,” and “say something Iroh doesn’t like out of turn and he’ll break your leg.” Zuko did his best to understand what Aikoyo was saying. If he didn’t know the rules, how could he be expected to follow them?

Zuko gathered that Fire Lord Iroh was playing a game of pretend with the Avatar. Zuko’s part was to pretend to be a real prince, probably so that the Avatar would accept him when the trade finally went down. The biggest rule seemed to be “contradict what anyone says, even if they’re a guard or one of the Avatar’s friends, and you’ll be drugged until you can “properly remember” what’s going on.” Zuko could follow these rules. He could pretend. But he hoped they wouldn’t ask him to do it for long. He looked at the twisted metal bars on the ground, the last barrier of safety that had kept him away from Fire Lord Iroh’s notice, ad he wished he could go back to a few months ago when the guards still locked the door and everything was quiet and safe. Aikoyo asked a question.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you,” Zuko said.

“I asked if you were feeling all right,” Aikoyo said.

Zuko heard her. She wanted to know if he was ready to go along with Iroh’s game, or if she needed to drug him again. He shifted slightly and felt the weight of bindings keeping his broken leg together. Ozai hadn’t permitted a cast the last time. “I feel fine,” Zuko smiled. She wouldn’t be able to tell it was a lie—people were never able to tell; the scar was like a permanent mask. “I’m fine,” Zuko said again, and he thought about how this time he was given a cast, and he almost managed to believe it.