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Zuko had been the first to visit, the day he officially usurped the throne. Asking more ridiculous questions about his whore of a mother.
“I should have killed both of you when I had the chance!” Ozai sneered by way of reply, slunk back into a dark corner of his cell. “Perhaps I should have followed Lord Azulon’s orders. It would have spared me all the trouble. Your treason will be punished soon. The people will not stand for peace! They are the Fire Nation! War and conquest is in our blood. I shall be freed, and with my bending restored I will burn the rest of you, as I should have done!”
“I have seen the records. She was given a small…” Ozai lunged forward and grabbed the bars of his cell. Bars that would soon break. Bars he would melt once he regained his flame. Zuko jumped back, startled. Good, good, he was still afraid. He could still be controlled.
“AND THEN,” Ozai shouted, not acknowledging Zuko’s words. “I will find that hideous bitch and I will burn her, slowly and painfully. But not before showing her your charred remains.” He gave a small laugh, demented like a hyenabat. “Whenever you place that crown upon your head, think of that. Think of the tears.”
Zuko stood up from his crouch, and sighed.
“It seems we are at an impasse father. If you will not help me I will go.”
“I am not father to you. Or have you forgotten our little chat during the eclipse?” Ozai said, slinking back into his corner.
Zuko sighed once again. Ozai was confused. Where was the gloating, the crowing? Where were the self-righteous self-congratulations? Zuko seemed oddly sad about the ultimate power he would soon possess. The utter fool.
As he left, his long robe trailing behind him, Ozai thought for a moment Zuko almost looked regal. But it must have been a mere trick of the light. The boy was soft, not a true ruler.
…
Zuko was soon followed by a quintet of quivering Fire Sages. The one with the largest headwear held a scroll, and read it aloud with a shaky voice. His long and thin fingers shuddered violently, and the rustling of the scroll irritated Ozai to no end. The others, all showing their advanced age, looked little better.
“In accordance with Ancient Laws of the Fire Nation, we stand before you now Fire Lord Ozai. We light this place with the sacred light of Agni.” At these the four without a scroll summoned fire into their palms. Ozai screwed his eyes shut. He did not wish to see what he had been denied.
“We are the Great Sages of Tawā, Hinode, Nichibotsu, Shōgo, and Roku. We are the keepers of the eternal flame. We are the guardians of the sacred mysteries of Fire. We alone hold the secrets of life and death. We keep watch against the night. And we have found you unworthy…”
Ozai gave a harsh laugh. These old men? Pronounce him unworthy? When he was free he would kill the Sages, and only the Phoenix King would speak to the spirits. Letting anyone other than him have any authority was a mistake, he could see that know. His face turned to a deadly frown. Yet the old man plowed on.
“You have committed grave crimes against the people of the Fire Nation, and other nations as well.”
Lies and irrelevant respectively. Everything he had done was for his own power and the glory of the Fire Nation. What happened to subhuman barbarians mattered not at all.
“Your inability to bend makes you unable to fulfill your duties as protector of the Nation.” The Sage said.
“Just wait until I get it back.” Ozai sneered.
“Your role in the death of Fire Lord Azulon, your usurpation of your brother Iroh, and your attacks on your son Zuko are grave violations of filial piety.” That was, Ozai supposed, somewhat true. Had he obeyed Azulon and killed the boy he wouldn’t have been in this mess in the first place. He could have found some other way to take the throne. But he would never admit that, not to anyone.
“You would lecture me in respecting family? When my son has committed a multitude of crimes against me? His own father! His head should be chopped off in the square for all to see.” Ozai yelled from the darkness. The Sage took a deep breath.
“We have presented these grave charges to the Avatar. And he has affirmed them. So by the right of ancient law, established many centuries ago…”
“You speak of the AVATAR? The very child you sought to destroy alongside me. You FOOLS. You will be the death of the Fire Nation. In the name of Agni GO!” He bellowed. His voice echoed through the prison, he thought he heard cheering, but maybe that was just his own voice.
“...you are hereby deposed as Fire Lord in favor of your son Zuko. LongliveFireLordZuko.” The Sage said quickly, completing his edict. Ozai laughed and they all tripped over themselves fleeing the cell. A fine show indeed. If this was the quality of men the boy could line up behind him, Ozai would be restored to the throne in no time.
…
His next visitor came weeks later, in the dead of night. Ozai was awakened by the sound of Fire. It hissed against the steel of the cell bars. It glowed blue.
“Azula?” He whispered. He had heard she had been captured, but had not considered his daughter any further than to dismiss her.
“Father I’m here,” She replied. “Gave the guards the slip.” She giggled in a way Ozai had never heard. “I’ll get you out of here. Then we can kill Zuko and reclaim our thrones.”
Ozai stood and shuffled over to the edge of his cell, watching his daughter slowly melt the metal. He would never admit it to anyone, including himself, but he had always been jealous of his daughter. To be born with the blue flame was a rare gift, and it has been wasted by the spirits on a mere girl. One who had failed him.
“Our?” He questioned. “Our? I am the one with a throne Azula. Not you. Remember that.”
Azula rolled her eyes in a patronizing way. He should have stuck her for that. But her flame was between him and her, and he had none of his own.
“Your Phoenix King throne, if you ever even had one built, and my Fire Lord one.” She explained slowly. “I’ll return it to the old ways. Zuko’s barely even has any fire anymore.”
“You seriously expect to retain my favor?” Ozai barked. “You expect to retain the throne that I so generously gave you? Think again girl. You are a failure! You lost the throne to a pathetic boy like Zuko.”
She glared but kept burning the iron.
“You’re a failure, just like he was. Your mother’s blood I suppose. Treason rings true.” He snapped. “Burn faster.”
Her hands began to shake. Good. Keep some fear in her. She’d gotten too independent, too much freedom had ruined her. He should have guessed. She was a girl, prone to manipulation and emotion from others. He never should have considered her as heir.
“That’s why they abandoned you, you know, you’re a pathetic failure. That’s why you’ll never have true friends. You’re too weak.”
Azula stopped. Tears began to flow down her face. Exactly the problem with women. Disgusting. Her own weakness getting in the way of his escape attempt.
“If…if they hate my weakness…” She sobbed. “Then why do they go to Zuko? He is weaker than me! Even worse! But they all went to him. The sages! Mai and Ty Lee! Uncle! Mother! They all go to him! And…YOU! You were so weak you lost your bending! But everyone listened to you.”
Ozai rose to his feet, towering over his cowering daughter, glowering through the darkness of his cell, through the bars not yet cut through.
“You dare? You dare?” He shouted. “I knew I never should have married into that cursed bloodline. Look what it has wrought me. Traitors and weaklings. Pathetic and without honor. Unable to do their proper duty. You should be serving me, your father. Instead you simper and whine about yourself. Where is your sense of duty?”
“I HAVE SERVED YOU!” Cried Azula. “I have done all that I am able. I am even ignoring Mother!”
“You pitiful….your mother has returned?” He asked, perturbed. Surely someone would have told him. Or the women herself come to gloat. Ah well. He would have his revenge on her. Her and her pathetic children.
Azula gave a crazed laugh.
“Oh she is everywhere father. Everywhere. Always telling me she loves me. How I've made mistakes. How I drove my friends away. How I can get better if I am kinder or such nonsense. It’s lunacy father all the things she tells me. She’s there when I sleep father. She’s there when I’m awake. In fact she’s here right now.” Azula cackled again. Ozai took a step back.
“Azula…” He snarled.
“She’s telling me that she’s sorry about how you treated me, that you led me down a dark path. Can I tell you a secret father? I don’t think she’s right in the head.” She giggled. “But you can ask her yourself, she’s right behind you.”
Despite himself, Ozai cast a fearful look over his shoulder. Nothing but stone and shadow.
Footsteps in the hallway. The guards had finally been alerted. At least the ones she hadn’t killed or incapacitated.
“Oh what’s that mother, I shouldn’t break him out? I suppose you’re right. If he’s imprisoned and I’m free, then I’m in charge of the people who hate Zuko isn’t that funny?”
Traitorous little bitch.
“I am your FATHER. You will do as I say!” Ozai shouted impotently.
“Oh, is that not what you meant mother? My apologies. I do like the idea better though. I mean if both of you hate it, then it must be a grand idea.” Azula reasoned. If one could call it that. “Yes Phoenix Queen Azula. I like the sound of that!” She gave another, fuller, laugh.
“Farewell to you both!” She cried, spinning as she did so. “Farewell to you both!”
She ran from the cell, moments before the guards burst in. They found an Ozai who, for once, was utterly dumbfounded.
…
One of the older guards, a tall bearded man Ozai vaguely recognizes, begins to talk with Ozai.
The man, Hatanaka, had been born and raised in the Fire Nation capital. However, Ozai learned, his family’s wealth had been entirely based in the colonies. Thus when Zuko had feebly agreed to end Fire Nation control over the colonies in favor of some sort of joint control, Hatanaka had been ruined financially.
“Yes, yes,” Ozai said soothingly. “That is truly tragic. Such a terrible betrayal of those who fought so hard for our nation in her time of need. You said you served in the Navy before you were shunted off to this miserable prison?”
“Y…yes your highness.” Hatanaka said. A stutterer. A shame he would not be worth much beyond his initial use in getting Ozai out. Still, he would need to get some sort of reward. Maybe be made Count of some barren rock.
Hatanaka’s partner, a younger, thinner boy, named Suzuki, shifted nervously but said nothing. The boy said little, but let Hatanaka’s conversations go without reporting them.
“A shame that all the Navy’s glory, all of their victories and sacrifice have been wasted. I wish I knew how my son had come to this, but I know not,” Ozai said, although he suspected it was his treacherous brother and wife who had a hand in making the boy soft.
“Quite a shame,” Hatanaka agreed. “All sorts of Earthbenders and Waterenders around now. Foreign Invasion is what it is sir. Bet they’ve muddied your good son’s mind.”
Perhaps that as well.
“Don’t get too informal,” growled Ozai warningly. Hatanaka straighed.
“Of course not my Fire Lord,” He said nervously with an awkward half-bow. “We live to serve you my Fire Lord.”
Ozai turned toward Suzuki.
“And you boy, where did you serve before being shunted off to this dead end, surely unbecoming of your station?” Ozai asked.
“Uhh, the Army sir-my Fire Lord,” Suzuki said nervously in a high voice. He could not be more than 16. “Served with my two brothers and one sister on the front, then holding some roads near Om-New Ozai.”
“Ah yes the glorious city of New Ozai, what would have been a shining new colony, a beacon of civilization in the Southern Earth Kingdom, liberated from that mad King they have,” Ozai replied, sweeping open his arms to prove his point. “It would have been a crown jewel. And now it has been returned to the dirteaters, who have no idea what to do with the resources they possess. Tell me what do your siblings think of this, do they share your misgivings?”
Suzuki looked at his feat.
“Look me in the eye boy,” Ozai demanded. But Suzuki did not do so. His breathing became unsteady.
“I…I wouldn’t know sir,” Suzuki admitted. “My brothers were killed in battle, they were crushed by a rockslide. And my sister was killed by some rebels outside the city, they slit her throat in the dead of night. I’m, I’m the only one left.”
Ozai did not truly give one ounce of care about this peasant’s dead family, but grief could be a powerful tool in the right hands.
“I see, my sincere condolences for your loss,” Ozai lied. “Tell me Hatanaka, did you lose family or friends in the war?”
“No my Fire Lord,” Hatanaka replied casually. “My family are all Navy men, and none of us went North. Why die in the mud when you can sail?”
A coward, but a clever one.
“Well Suzuki,” Ozai said. “I can think of no greater betrayal than to abandon the cause that your family fought and died for. Their deaths should have meant something. But they could still mean something. They would have wanted you to fight on, for the Fire Nation to win the war. If someone with a spine replaced my son.”
“I…my brother had a wife and daughter,” Suzuki said, and Ozai did not understand why he needed to be hearing this. “He just wanted to get back to them. And my sister, well she was just so tired by the end. Part of me thinks she let them slit her throat, just to make the nightmares stop. I had them too, still have them.”
“I am sure they still want total victory for the nation, whatever their personal weaknesses,” Ozai said with a wave of his hand. “As for your nightmares, the best way to deal with that sort of thing is to burn the cause, I’ve found.”
Alas, Ozai no longer could burn the Avatar.
“So my Fire Lord,” Hatanaka said, apparently eager to change the subject. “The colonies are gone, but you think we could still win the war? I like that, everyone else is fatalistic. Says we wouldn't have no food.”
“It would be difficult to win, but remember we had no Colonies when Sozin began the war,” Ozai said. “We shall still be victorious. We will march into the colonies and over the rivers and to Ba Sing Se once more. If it takes a hundred more years, then so be it. Every drop of blood spilt shall be for victory. Every death is a noble moment for the Nation. If we need generations to win, we shall take generations. No matter the cost, we shall fight on. We will win or be destroyed trying.”
Hatanaka grinned, Suzuki looked rather pale.
Footsteps in the hall. The shift change already? Oh well. That at least meant a meal.
“Nice talking with you my Fire Lord,” Hatanaka said. “See you tomorrow.”
“Hatanka, Suzuki,” Ozai gave polite nods, despite them being inferiors. “I shall see you soon. I hope to speak with you more and perhaps even discuss some…recreation.”
Hatanaka smiled, then reverted to neutral expression as the new Guard shift entered, accompanied by the Captain. All a lost cause, utterly loyal to Zuko and his accursed regime. The new guards settled into their posts, while Hatanaka and Suzuki prepared to depart with the Captain.
They were fools and cowards, thought Ozai, but they could be useful ones. An escape plan already began to turn, centering on Hatanaka. Suzuki was a non-entity.
As he thought this, Suzuki leaned over and whispered something to the Captain, who’s eyes widened, and glanced over at Hatanaka. As soon as the trio had left the cell, Ozai heard the sound of a scuffle.
He never saw Suzuki or Hatanaka again.
…
Ozai recognized the boy. He was a Water Tribe savage, who'd arrived after the Avatar had stolen his bending. He'd been the one to ferry them back to the Fire Nation.
"Man I wish Toph was here." The boy muttered, apparently unaware Ozai was listening. Not that Ozai had any idea who Toph was.
The boy entered, his eyes scanning the room.
He knelt down to Ozai.
"Zuko is very ill." He said simply, anger clear in his voice. "Someone slipped him some poison."
"Good." Ozai said automatically. Not a full traitor's death, but still at least he would soon be free of that cursed boy. And no clear heir to the brat. This had all the makings of an opportunity.
"Don't worry." The Water Tribe boy said with a grin. "We've got the antidote. Its coming in via a special shipment to the docks as we speak. Just thought I'd tell you your plan had failed." The barbarian stood and walked out.
Ozai never told him that he had nothing to do with the poison. But he took great solace in the fact that there were people out there plotting for his return.
…
The Boy was back, it had been a few days at most. His grin was even larger than it had been before. He was gloating now.
"There never was a poison. Well, there was, but we caught it before it even got added to his tea." He explained, with an almost cruel glee . "We just needed to test whether or not you were smuggling orders out. Turns out you weren't. Not even the people who want to kill Zuko care about you anymore."
He turned and left again. And something in Ozai broke.
…
She was back.
Ozai had in all honesty lost track of her by the end of the war. She was not in the palace, and that was all that mattered. He had sort of assumed she had died at some point, as the war swirled across the world.
But she had not. She now returned. Clothed in the finery befitting a Queen Mother. In direct violation of the decrees on banishment. Punishable by death.
But then he supposed, the Fire Lord had the right to end a banishment at will. And the current Fire Lord would be well inclined to do that.
She left without saying a word.
…
“Brother.”
“I did not visit you during your imprisonment. Why do you not return the favor?”
“I have visited my nephew, niece, and sister-in-law. It would be a grave insult not to pay the same respects to my brother.” Iroh replied, sitting down before him. He looked so old. Ozai had not seen his elder brother since he had departed with Zuko, all those years ago. His graying beard was now white. He did not even have a proper topknot anymore.
“I hear you’re running a tea shop. Pathetic really.”
“It has brought me great joy to give tea to the people of Ba Sing Sae.”
“I would have thought someone would have killed you by now.” Ozai remarked, with a false air of nonchalance. “From what I heard you piled their bodies nearly as high as the wall itself, used their bones for fuel. You’d think at least one barbarian would remember and slit your throat.” Iroh flinched. Ozai grinned. Now this, this was fun. He’d never truly had a chance to lay into his older brother. The jibes they had shared over tea so long ago had never been cruel.
“It is true, some have not welcomed me with open arms. And they may be right to do so, for my crimes were heinous. But most seem quite content to meet kindness with kindness.” Iroh replied calmly.
“Barbarians. I should have ordered the city burned when I held it.” Iroh shook his head sadly.
“I do not think you ever held it, not truly.” Iroh said. “You should have seen the parade the Avatar received last year. Ten times the support Azula got using fear. And the White Lotus would not have won the day had not her citizens bravely risen up in our support.”
“Azula was a failure.” Ozai waved his hand dismissively as he spoke. “Had the Avatar not interfered I would have dealt with the city myself. Melted the walls to slag and ended the Earth Kingdom once and for all.”
“It is good then that you didn’t,” Iroh said. “For had you reached Ba Sing Se that day, we would have had to fight. And it is a grave crime to strike one’s brother. Just as it is to strike your son.” He gave Ozai a knowing glare.
“It is a son’s duty to obey his father. It is a father’s duty to guide his sons. To keep them under control.” The ex-Fire Lord said. “Perhaps had you done so, Lu Ten might not have died in a cowpig sty.” Iroh flinched and looked down sadly.
“We have not spoken since before that, not really. Everything after my departure for the front was merely business, not the talk of brothers. I have always regretted that.” Iroh said.
“I begged to come you know,” Ozai said. “Bowed and scraped to Father. Offered to take any post, even logistics. He would not listen, said I didn’t have the experience. Yet he was willing to let Lu Ten, a far younger man, go. Did you ask him to do that?”
“I did not ask him to deny you. But you know I could not refuse Lu Ten anything. He asked me and I asked father.” Iroh said, sadness in his eyes.
“He always did like you more.” Ozai said quietly.
“Among his many faults,” Iroh said, nodding. “He played favorites and it tore us apart.” Ozai nodded slowly. “I think that might explain what became of Azula and Zuko.”
"I played no favorites there," He sneered. "I simply rose up strength and cast aside weakness."
"That is not what Azula says you told her." Iroh said softly.
"They were both weak, in the end. Ursa's blood, I suppose. Of course father would foist her upon me." Ozai complained.
"Perhaps." Iroh said, with that inscrutable look of his. "But it could equally be said you were foisted upon her."
"She should have been grateful. A chance to be Fire Lady. Instead she commits treason and abandons us at the first opportunity." Ozai replied. Iroh glared at him reproachfully.
"She killed a Fire Lord to facilitate your rise to the throne, at your own request. She took her banishment gracefully when you ordered it." Iroh said.
"All to save her son." Ozai said with a wave of his hand.
"He is your son as well." Iroh insisted.
"He's more yours at this point." Ozai said with mocking grace.
"And I am very proud,” Iroh said with a sincerity that to Ozai’s ear bordered on mockery. “You should be as well. He has grown into quite the strapping Fire Lord. The very image of a great leader.”
“I doubt it,” Ozai sneered. “What has he accomplished? He has left us weak and easily devoured by our enemies."
"What enemies?" Iroh asked. "The Avatar counts the Fire Lord as a friend, as does the Southern Water Tribe. The North sees a valuable trading partner. The Earth Kingdom is wary, yes, but peace is here amd they do not intend to disturb it. The Fire Nation has no enemies."
"A foolish notion," Ozai replied. "They wait like vultures. Waiting for the rot within to tumble us down. Soon the people will realize this.”
“What rot?” Iroh questioned. “There are no longer food shortages, our factories build things that are being shipped the world over, no more corpses coming home from the front. The only threat to stability are those who want war. If there is any rot it is yours, not his.”
Ozai paused.
“Did you go soft immediately after Lu Ten died, or did it take time?”
Iroh sighed.
“Perhaps, perhaps not,” The Dragon of the West replied. “Certainly something broke that day. But there is a difference between losing the will to fight for something, and gaining the will to fight against it. There was time between losing Lu Ten and realizing that what I had done was wrong for other reasons."
"You truly think that?" Ozai asked. "You truly think that the work of our father and grandfather was evil?"
"Yes."
Ozai let out a cold snort.
"You speak of family and duty and my obligations to children. Yet you turn your back on our family's legacy!"
"I do not turn my back on our family's crimes," Iroh said with surprising force. "I face them. Every day and every night I face them. I do not close my eyes or try to forget. I work to atone."
"Coward," Ozai said, but his insult lacked the conviction it once might have. "I should have killed you when I took the throne. It was you, your weakness that infected us."
Iroh bowed his head.
"Perhaps you should have," He admitted. "Many ruthless men have killed brothers to hold power. Yet you did not. You killed your father. Banished your wife. Scarred and tried to kill your son. And yet the worst you could muster against me was imprisonment. For all your crimes against family you never lashed out at me."
"I should have, and I will not repeat that mistake when I return to the throne."
"Perhaps," Iroh repeated. "I must be going soon. But there is one thing we share, besides being brothers.
Iroh reached into the folds of his robe, and pulled out a box.
"A selection of teas from my shop. I have included some Ginseng, as it is the Jade Dragon's specialty. But the rest are variations on Oolong. I know that is your favorite." Iroh said, sliding the box through the bars.
It was a dark mahogany, inlaid with rubies forming a fiery sigil. Ozai blinked. This was his box. One he had personally commissioned when he was 16 to hold his favorite blends. He had actually made two. One he had gifted to Iroh. He wondered if Iroh still had his.
Ozai took the box.
"I could run a tea shop better than you," He insisted, although he felt a petulant child saying so. "Just as I ran a better Kingdom than Zuko. And will run again soon enough"
"On the latter point, I must heartily disagree," Iroh said. "But I must concede the former. Your taste in Tea was always a bit more refined than mine."
Ozai wondered if Iroh was lying, in some vain attempt to make him feel better. But no. This was tea. A true passion they both shared. Iroh might bend the truth on other matters. But not tea. Never tea.
Of course, Ozai had no way to brew it.
Iroh noticed his concern. From his robe he pulled two stones. He placed them atop the box.
"What are these?" Ozai asked.
"Striking stones, so you can get a flame going and heat your tea." Iroh explained, standing and turning away.
"I do not need your pity," snapped Ozai as Iroh left. Was this all it was? A cruel exercise to taunt him for his lack of bending?
Surely it was.
It was what he would have done.
…
"What island do you hail from?" Ozai asked.
"Sei'Naka." The girl said flatly.
Ozai frowned.
"Are you a peasant then?" He demanded. She just rolled her eyes at that. Insolent thing.
"No, my father was Head of the Clan when I was born. My brother is now." She explained.
Ozai gave a sigh.
"A Sei'Naka wants to be Fire Lady. Bodyguards and tutors. Why not a scullery maid next? Or a footman?" He said.
The girl sighed. Zuko scowled and glowered.
"The traditional trade of the Jeruk Clan is agriculture." The boy growled. "Yet you never dismissed Grandmother Irah as a farmer."
Clever boy, he had come prepared.
"Have we met girl?" Ozai asked, honestly not knowing. Many people had seen him as Fire Lord. But he had seen few.
"A few times," The girl said. "I was a lady for Azula in my youth."
Oh yes, she did look vaguely familiar now.
"One of the girls Ursa brought in, no doubt," He muttered.
"You approved of my presence," She shot back. "For some time. You appointed my father as a governor of Omashu. Which he renamed after you briefly."
Oh right. The Sei'naka man. A flatterer, who had risen to high hights bu shamelessly bowing to Ozai. Odd that his daughter would be the one Zuko chose. Perhaps political pressure was forcing him into such a match.
"Ah yes," Ozai said. "Does he still serve?"
"Father continues to work diligently," The girl said flatly. "Although my brother will probably be better than him at everything."
"Not much respect for her elders, this one," Ozai commented with a nod to Zuko.
"I respect my elders, when they are competent," The girl said, and Ozai realizes he's missed something.
"I apologize," He said. "Your name?"
"Mai," She supplied.
"Well Zuko," He said, leaning forward. "You have made an interesting choice. Her clan has a long and storied history. But a poor one, I must say. A small island of little note. I was the first one to give them any sort of power or influence."
"There is more to life than riches," Zuko replied, parroting his damned uncle.
"Oh yes, your precious honor," Ozai snapped. "I'm sure she's filled your head with tales of noble bodyguards. But the truth is the Sei'naka are terribly pragmatic. They move wherever power is."
"Mai stood with me before you even fell," Zuko said. "Where was the profit or pragmatism in that? Enough of your tricks."
Alright. Clearly this wasn't working. But Ozai had other, more crude methods, of getting his way.
"You know a Sei'naka once wed the Avatar. And not even a proper Fire Bending one, one of the dirt eaters I think. Who's to say she won't develop similar tastes?"
Mai immediately burst out laughing, a surprisingly high and light sound. Even Zuko looked startled. For a moment Ozai thought his insult had landed. But it seemed his son was more concerned by the fact that his betrothed was giggling, which he guessed was a rare occurrence.
"Me…and Aang?" She said breathlessly. "I, ha ha ha ha ha ha, I would stab him in seconds!"
Ozai frowned, especially when Zuko cracked a smile at her comment.
"Why are you here?" He demanded. "Whatever traditional filial piety says, you are Fire Lord. You do not need my permission to marry."
Zuko's face fell. Zuko sighed, and looked oddly sad.
"I had hoped, well, that after all this time," He stuttered. "That maybe, maybe something had changed. Hoped maybe the wedding would change things. But I guess not."
But things had changed, Ozai realized with a start. His son had grown. His son was getting married. An heir would soon follow, no doubt. And he was marrying a girl seemingly for love, not because she had been foisted upon him. Any opposition to his rule must have been laughably weak.
Zuko's reign was secure. Even during this conversation, Ozai had never brought up his restoration, or the terrible vengeance he would wreck.
It hadn't even occurred to him.
…
Filial Piety dictated that the eldest son lead the procession of his father's funeral, including the eulogy. In the event that the deceased had no living son, tradition said that a brother would assume the role.
Ozai was not given such an option.
He learned of his brother's death via a curt note from Zuko. The note said that Iroh's funeral would be led by Zuko.
…
Ozai had not seen the Avatar since that fateful day, and had not given the boy much thought. But one day Ozai awoke, and there the Avatar was. Sitting lotus style before the bars. He had a beard now. Ozai’s rice breakfast was already in the cell, and the Avatar had something surprisingly similar in front of him.
“What are you doing here?” Ozai asked.
“I look someone else’s bending away.” The Avatar said sadly. “And I supposed you should know.”
“My daughter?” Ozai guessed. “One of the generals?” The Avatar shook his head.
“No, a Waterbender.” Ozai rolled his eyes in disgust. “An extremely powerful one. He was terrorizing Republic City with bloodbending.”
Ozai had no idea what Republic City was or what bloodbending was, so he hid his uncertainty with insults, as he was wont to do.
“Why should I care what you do to some barbarian?” Ozai sneered.
“Losing your bending, well, it is a lot I would imagine,” the Avatar said slowly, as if he had not been the one to cause Ozai’s plight. “I thought it might help you to know that someone else has gone through the same.”
In a way, it did not. If anything, the idea that a mere waterbender had been considered by the Avatar to be of equal threat as Ozai was deeply insulting to the Former Fire Lord.
Yet in a way, it did help. Someone else shared the scratch. The cork deep inside of them that could never be popped. The energy within him that was the same as it ever was, but now could never be used, never be released. Someone shared the pain.
“Could you undo it?” Ozai said suddenly, not even planning to speak and unable to stop the pleading tone from entering his voice. “Could you give someone back their bending after you took it?”
The Avatar paused his eating and set his chopsticks down. He stared long and hard at Ozai, and Ozai felt the gaze pierce him. The Avatar stroked his beard.
“I guess so,” he said finally. “If they had changed enough.”
A heartbeat passed.
“Have you?” The Avatar asked. Ozai was shocked to see that there was hope, real hope, in his eyes.
But Ozai had no answer.
The Avatar finished eating his rice in silence. He dared not meet Ozai’s eyes again. Where once he might have gloated at this small victory, Ozai did not say a word. The Avatar stood, bowed, and left.
…
Zuko stood tall. He was a man now. Tall and bearded. With a jolt, Ozai realized that Zuko had probably long surpassed him in terms of time on the throne.
“What do you want?” Ozai demanded.
Zuko crossed his arms.
“What is it?” Ozai demanded.
Zuko sighed.
“You have a granddaughter.” He admitted. “Born yesterday. Healthy and hearty. Her mother is in good health as well, thank the spirits.”
“A bender?” Ozai asked immediately. That was the most important thing. For millennia the Fire Lords had been benders. Chiefs in the North and South, Earth Kings, all had at some point or another lost the gift, signs of their failure. But the Fire Nation line had remained strong.
“Yes,” Zuko replied, although he did not seem to consider that as major a milestone as the baby being healthy. Odd that.
That was good. The purity of the line was maintained. And yet, it was a disappointment. His failure of a son had not failed. The purity of the line was maintained.
“And why is it that you tell me in person?” Ozai asked. “Another attempt at reconciliation? Perhaps your friend the Avatar sparked some hope? Although I think you and I both know better than that.”
Zuko sighed and shifted his feet slightly. It seems he didn’t know better than that. Man though he was in body, he was still a foolish boy at heart. But still, there had to be more than that…
“The Blessing of the Elders!” Ozai said with a laugh. “It is tradition that Grandparents confer blessings upon their grandchildren, and aid in raising them. You wish me to partake in that?”
Zuko nodded.
“Your Grandfather never put much stock in it, I’m sure you’ll remember his orders to kill you. He never much liked Lu Ten either,” Ozai explained.
“Well I am building something quite different," Zuko insisted.
"And am I to believe that you would allow me to help raise your daughter?" Ozai asked skeptically.
"No," Zuko said. "But a blessing would be a start…"
Zuko's eyes flashed with something.
Pity. Pity? PITY!
His son, his weak, pathetic son, pitied him! A rage boiled up inside of Ozai. A rage he had not felt for years. How dare Zuko pity him! Zuko should fear him!
"Blessing?" Ozai sneered. "You want a blessing? Very well then, hear my blessing four your daughter! May she die in the cradle, as you should have! And should she live, spirits forbid, may she terrorize you and you terrorized me! Let her grow into everything you were not, but everything you should have been! Let her be my vengeance upon you and the world! May she strike you and her mother down and recreate my glorious empire!"
Zuko's eyes widened.
"She, Izumi, would never…" He stuttered.
"She is a baby," Ozai said cruelly. "You know nothing of who she will be. And with our relationship, do you really think you can be a father worth loving?"
Zuko fled the room without another word.
Ozai laughed and laughed.
…
That night Ozai awoke with a start, pinned to the wall by an outline of knives.
…
Zuko returned once more. He crossed his arms.
"Mother has died." He said flatly. His voice was hollow with grief.
Ozai had never loved his wife. He could not raise even a flutter of grief or sadness at her passing. Nor any sympathy for her son that stood before him. But neither could he find it in him to muster glee. For all the hate and pain he had poured onto her, for all his resentment at how her spawn had brought the Fire Nation low. He could not find the joy this news once would have brought him.
"You came yourself," He said. "You did not come for Iroh."
"She asked me," Zuko said, his voice wavering. "She asked me to tell you and I could not deny her that."
"Forever her son," muttered Ozai.
"Always."
…
It had been many years since he had received a visit. No Zuko. None of his wife. Nothing more from the Avatar. The Fire Sages did not come and cower. The visits had returned to nothing. Just him, his guards, his scrolls, and his meals. The routine of a thousand days, stretching out unto infinity.
Then one day the guards announced he had a visitor. That was unexpected. What was even more unexpected was that Ozai had no idea who she was. She was fairly tall, with long black hair, trussed in a formal yet efficient style. She had small gold rimmed glasses. She gave him a long hard look, a look he vaguely remembered from somewhere. Then she knelt.
No one had knelt for him in a long time. They squatted to feed him, or to give him clean clothes. When his rare visitors came they squatted to his level, or looked above him, or sat on the floor. Sometimes he stood and raged at them, sometimes he did not. But no one ever knelt.
“Who are you?” He demanded. He stood from his corner and shuffled over to where she knelt just beyond his grasp, then sat cross legged, as he had upon his throne. His legs ached terribly, but he tried not to show it.
“Did the guards not tell you?” She asked calmly. “I would have thought they announced my coming.”
“They announced I had a visitor. Now who are you?”
“So you are the Cloistered Fire Lord.” Ozai gave a harsh laugh that shook his white beard.
“Is that what they call me these days? Is that what the pitiful rulers of this nation call me?” He gave her another look. She met his gaze and glared until he looked away from her. That had not happened in a long time.
“It is the only name available for a man who is no longer Fire Lord, yet still lives.”
"It is a name for weak men," Ozai spat. "Who would willingly abandon the throne for life in a temple. I did not lose my throne voluntarily, and as you can see young one I am in no temple."
"I suppose so." She said. "Although if I recall correctly the term was applied to mad Fire Lords who were placed in asylums as well."
Ozai grimaced.
"I am not mad. My reign was an era of glory and conquest. Surely you remember, from your childhood, the bounties that flowed into the Fire Nation. The prosperity we had. Not the muck we live in now, under the rule of my weak willed son." The mystery woman gave an small smile. It infuriated Ozai, but he would not snap until he had found a way to use her.
"I'm afraid that I do not remember. I was born years after you were deposed. I have known nothing but the 'muck,' as you so kindly put it." She said this with just the smallest note of sarcasm.
"How...how old are you?" Ozai demanded, letting desperation sink into his voice for the first time in their conversation.
"I am 33. I was born in 529, 17 years after you were defeated by the Avatar." Ozai felt a deep unease. Had it really been that long? Was he really now in his nineties?
"So you have known nothing but peace." He said with disappointment. "You speak of the Avatar, tell me…" He trailed off and gestured for her name.
"Izumi."
"Tell me Izumi. Have you met the Avatar?"
"I have." She replied.
"And what did you think of the boy?" He asked, a dangerous edge in his voice.
"I have met him. Although he is no longer a boy." He cursed his slip up mentally. A foolish mistake and not one he would repeat.
"The man then."
"A peaceful man by nature. But with great power inside of him. A good friend of...the Fire Lord. They say the Avatar is the one who brought the dragon to him or brought him to the dragon.”
"The dragon?" Ozai whispered. "Impossible. My brother killed the last of them."
"It seems not, for the Fire Lord rides a dragon." Why? Why had his weak, pitiful fool of a son gotten a dragon? He hadn’t even slayed it!
“I see. Much has changed since I was imprisoned.”
“Indeed.”
“So tell me Izumi. What do you think of our nation at the moment? Perhaps you do not remember my days of glory, but perhaps you wish you did?” Ozai asked. Surely, surely, that was the reason she had come to visit him. She shrugged.
“There are still those that long for the olden days.” She said evenly. “But I am not one of them. We cannot go back, no more than a man should return to being a boy.”
Ozai frowned. It figured. Raised by weakness, steeped in weakness. No one with the will to truly succeed would be allowed in.
“Then why are you here?” He asked. She frowned, for a passing moment she seemed unsure of herself. Then she shrugged.
“Curiosity. An interest in history. A fit of youthful pique.” Izumi said. “My father and I quarreled recently. He felt I was not respecting the honor of the family.”
Suddenly Ozai considered the possibility that he was talking to the wrong side of the fight. Perhaps her father would be a better target.
“Filial impiety is a grave offense.” He said. “I should hope you will make amends.”
Izumi nodded.
“We always reconcile eventually. It was not a bad fight, not really. We just happened to be in the area. So I thought I would come here. After all, a wise Sage once wrote that piety towards one’s grandparents is the greatest form of filial piety.” She said, ending by staring into Ozai’s eyes.
Recognition dawned on his face. He looked over her. His hair, his eyes. The chin wasn’t from him or Ursa, but he vaguely remembered Zuko’s betrothed (now wife, he supposed) having something similar.
“Hmm, so you are my son’s daughter.” Ozai said. “He will not be pleased to hear you were here.”
“No he will not.” She said. “I am sure he will be here soon, alongside a not insignificant number of guards.”
"Does he fear me?" Ozai trying to keep the pathetic hope from his voice.
"He fears you for my sake, not for his," Izumi replied with an irritated fondness that made Ozai's blood boil.
"Does he fear you will do what needs to be done and restore our nation to its proper place as ruler of this world? Is that why he sends the guards, does he think you will listen to me?" Ozai demanded desperately. He thought back to the ‘blessing’ he had spitefully given her all those years ago. Had it come true?
"You think too highly of him." She replied dryly. "He will not worry about that, although he doesn't need to anyway. Your vision is quite mad. He thinks you will hurt me somehow."
"How would I hurt you from this cage?” Ozai asked. “With no bending?”
“You have your words,” She said softly. “And I think he fears those more than he ever did your flame, despite the scar.”
Ozai preened. That was true. His silver tongue had helped him in the past.
“But they are worthless against me,” Izumi said casually. “You do not know me. So my father worries over nothing.”
“Arrogant girl!” Ozai snapped, scrambling for a retort. “No man will ever take you to wife with that sort of attitude.”
“You prove my point, Grandfather,” Izumi said. “I have been betrothed for six months already.”
Ozai spluttered.
“If you think that a quick wit will serve you well,” He replied. “Think again, the realm will little love a princess with a mouth. Why when your brother is Fire Lord…”
“I have no brothers, I shall be Fire Lord,” Izumi interrupted.
“A female Fire Lord?” He asked incredulously.
“I do have you to thank for it. You established a precedent with Azula,” Izumi said, a ghost of a smile on her lips.
Ozai fell into a sullen silence. Izumi sighed.
“You know, when I was young I was always confused when people were impressed by metalbending,” Izumi said.
Ozai was pretty sure that was impossible but said nothing.
"Everyone was always so entranced by it, everyone over a certain age that is. They thought it was the most amazing thing in the world. It was new. The impossible made possible. But for me, and others my age, it wasn’t very impressive. It was just metalbending. There was no novelty to it. You, grandfather, I think are much like metalbending. For my parent’s generation you loom like a shadow over everything. Even when they no longer fear you now, they still fear what you once were. The darkness. But I have been raised my whole life in the light of my father’s rule. And truly, I do not see why you are so feared. Intellectually I understand your former power, your cruelty, your hatred. But at a personal, visceral level, I do not understand what made you so feared. I had hoped coming here might give me insight, but I suppose not.”
“I…” Ozai began, before loud footsteps began to ring from the hallway.
“Those would be the guards,” Izumi said standing up. “Thank you for the conversation, grandfather. But I do not think I shall be visiting again.”
…
Ozai died of a chill, alone in his cell.
He was discovered by his guards, and was cremated as was custom.
No one attended his funeral.