I do not own anything that could get me sued (i.e. Avatar the Last Airbender). Thank you to my reviewers as always! You all so kind and you motivate me more than you know.

I would like to remind that I am always thinking of story ideas and how the next chapter will shape. I just have an erratic updating schedule due to life in general. So thank you for continuing to read despite that! I really appreciate your understanding.

Also, I would like to mention that a reader was so immensely kind as to draw fanart for the story! It is a picture of Zuko as a scribe running about the second ring and can be found on tumblr at hogwarts-missed-their-chance's blog. This made me so excited and happy because for anybody to take the time to make something based on my story means so much. Thank you for the art!

Part 1: Growing Storm

The royal palace was many things, but it was never stagnant. It was constantly shifting, calm to chaos within a matter of minutes. You never knew when the latest news of the war would come in or when nobles would clash or what the Fire Lord's disposition would be like that particular day. If there was one thing Qi had learned, it was that one must take all of this change and adapt – or find another profession all together.

Qi was one of the youngest schedulers in the palace. He had a knack for knowing how to best manage everybody's life and it showed after he had graduated from Academy. Many would call him young and accomplished, but the scheduler still felt the need to prove himself especially now that he was serving in the inner ring. The work here was both harder and more rewarding than he might have ever imagined. Who else could boast of being scheduler to the next Crown Prince – at seventeen years of age no less? Qi had been deemed fit enough to serve a member of the royal family and that alone had been the honor of a lifetime.

But with great honor came an enormous amount of responsibility. When Qi first met Prince Zuko, the eleven-year-old boy had seemed so small and out of place. Like a lost turtleduckling of sorts. And somehow, before he had even known it had happened, Qi found himself listening to the prince when needed and offering advice as he would to an underclassman at Academy. It was sometimes all too easy to think himself in the company of a normal boy. Prince Zuko behaved as one might expect of a child raised within the palace: stubborn and proud. But it was just as often that the boy exhibited a gentleness and thoughtfulness Qi would have been hard-pressed to find in anybody.

Perhaps that was why the scheduler found himself genuinely worried as he watched the prince wave away his servants' efforts to make him more comfortable. The younger boy smiled and insisted that he was only a little tired. But Qi was certainly not fooled and he knew Meili, Ting, and Hua were not either. Prince Zuko was clearly not himself; dark rings colored the underside of his eyes and his skin was an almost sickly pale. It was almost hard to believe Qi had just seen Prince Zuko that morning healthy and whole. Now, not even a few hours later, the prince was returned and ill.

Something had happened, but now was not the time to ask what.

Before Zuko's servants had entered the prince's quarters, the Firelord himself had been in the process of stepping out of the room. It should not have been surprising that the Firelord wanted to check upon his own grandson's health. But their nation's rulers had never been known for their nurturing side and it was slightly odd to see so revered a figure doing something almost mundane. At the sight of his majesty, all four had stopped in shock to drop to their knees immediately.

The Firelord had seemed occupied, barely motioning for them to rise. But then his eyes had focused upon Qi and he stopped the younger boy– him! A lowly scheduler! – as the other servants continued into the prince's room. Qi had struggled not to let his awe and nervousness show on his face as the Firelord analyzed him alone in the hallway. Then, a single command: "You will come to the throne room after your visit."

After the Firelord left Qi standing in the hallway, it took a few moments for Qi to come to terms that the most powerful man in the nation had taken the time to speak personally to him – and a few moments longer to ignore the dread clashing in his stomach. An audience with the Firelord was an honor, but it certainly made a boy wonder why he was being summoned in the first place. Qi had always known hypothetically that he would someday be within the inner-folds of the palace simply because of who his charge was. But he had always imagined he would be in the throne room at Prince Zuko's side, serving as an aide once the younger boy grew old enough to begin direct dealings with the court. Not alone and certainly not at the Firelord's personal request.

The shadows were getting long, the first of the sun's rays dipping beneath the horizon when Qi left Prince Zuko's quarters. He immediately headed straight for the throne room, worried that perhaps he had taken too much time.

Qi was halfway down the Hall of Portraits when he spotted what seemed to be a pair of fire sages striding towards him. In the low lighting, the scheduler could not make out much of them. But from what he could see, they were close and murmuring fiercely to themselves. So preoccupied were they, that neither sage noticed Qi until they were only a few steps apart. Abruptly, both ceased their conversation and shuffled quickly by in uncharacteristic silence.

The scheduler frowned but continued on his way until finally reaching the arched entrance covered with red drapes emblazoned with the Fire Nation symbol. Qi paused at the threshold, uneasily eyeing both royal guards manning the entryway. Neither of them even twitched at the sight of him and he tried to ignore how horribly intimidating they seemed in their red armor. Now was not the time to dwell on such thoughts when the Firelord himself was waiting. Qi forced himself to take a single, deep breath in preparation, blocking out any other distractions, before pushing the drapes aside and entering the very heart of the Fire Nation.

Qi hadn't known what to expect, but the first thing he noticed was the enormous wall of flame separating the Firelord from his audience. It was automatically intimidating, a show of power that left no doubt as to who ruled the country. The enormous pillars lining the entirety of the hall almost made for giant sentinels and the dragons carved into the surfaces of the room seemed alive in the flickering light. The scheduler had never felt so out of place and very nearly walked right back out.

A sage – the Great Sage – was already prostrating himself on his knees before the throne, in the midst of an audience with the Firelord. Qi did a small double take when when he realized that this was no regular meeting. Any dignity that might have befitted one of the Great Sage's stature was gone as he begged, "Mercy! Please, have mercy."

"I believe I showed leniency when I allowed your inferiors their freedom. The crime rests upon you so that the rest of your temple may be spared. Make no mistake, Great Sage Fu, this is mercy."

Qi felt a shiver run down his spine. The Firelord's voice could freeze the room over; the nation's ruler was angry.

"Please, your majesty, I had not known what would happen –"

"I have heard enough. Enough of your explanations. You shall be punished for your carelessness and you will take it as a true citizen of the Fire Nation should."

The Firelord then noted Qi's presence. The ruler's golden eyes seemed sharp as cutting metal and the younger teen had to try very, very hard to keep his anxiety in check. He prayed to Agni that the Firelord's current mood would not be taken out upon him as well.

"Come," the lord murmured and beckoned Qi forward.

The scheduler obeyed without question, moving swiftly until he was level with the trembling Great Sage and falling to his knees in a bow. Then, he lifted his head and remained seated to await his majesty's word.

"Great Sage Fu has been careless in his duty and has placed Prince Zuko in danger. I would have him executed, but I wish to hear alternatives –"

"Agni, please, your majesty I beg you not to do this –"

The Firelord turned, his face twisted in fury at the Great Sage's interruption. "Speak again, Great Sage, and I shall make sure that you will never be able to form another word." The fire surrounding the Firelord flared higher to mirror his ire. He was power and strength and sheer rage, and there was not a flicker of emotion upon his face as the Great Sage devolved into sobs.

"Now tell me, scheduler Qi, what alternatives do you see available?"

Qi knew that failing to comply would mean immediate punishment, and recognized a test when he saw one. For reasons unknown, the Firelord wanted to see what his grandson's scheduler could come up with on the spot.

"It is a grave crime to place a member of the royal family in danger." Agni, Qi hoped his voice wasn't shaking as badly as he thought it was. It was so hard to think when a Great Sage – known for influence and strength in his own right – was tearfully begging incoherently into the floor. "Execution is mandatory of any such traitor to the Fire Nation."

"I did not ask you what the law said, boy, I asked for what you thought."

"I – I do not know the entire situation and therefore cannot give fully informed judgment." As a scheduler, it was not even his place to give judgment! "But I would say that if you wished to keep the Great Sage as perhaps a source of knowledge or wished to punish him differently, imprisonment would be the only other option."

"Why imprisonment?"

"Banishment would allow him to travel and as a sage of the capital he knows far too much. Allowing him to keep his post even after punishment might foster a sense of leniency with the law. Others might believe that the Great Sage received no punishment due to his status. Keeping him isolated for the rest of his life under careful watch of guardsmen, however, would prevent any information leakage and allow you access to his knowledge."

Qi finished his explanation with barely a breath, so terrified of whether the Firelord would like his reasoning. He did not know the nation's ruler well enough to gauge what he would prefer to hear and had simply said what made most logical sense. Qi was not trained to deal with this sort of life-or-death decision making and it had him sweating underneath his robes.

Unimaginable relief flooded Qi's entire body when the Firelord gave him a curt nod. "Your points are valid and worth taking into account. A good scheduler must be able to make such deductions quickly in order to best serve his lord and anticipate any events that must be planned for." The Firelord then turned to the Great Sage. "But it is as you said first: there is only one punishment for those who dare harm my kin."

It was a death sentence. Immediately, the Great Sage was shouting again almost incoherently, his eyes wild and his arms reaching out in a plea. He was a man desperate and scared and angry. But this time, the Firelord did not even deem to grace the display a glance. He only continued to watch Qi as the guards entered to drag the man out of the throne room with all the procedure and formality they would have given sack; it was as if the Great Sage was already nothing more than an inconvenience taken out of their presence.

By tomorrow morning, there would be a new Great Sage.

"Scheduler Qi."

The scheduler had physically clutch his hands together in front of him to maintain his composure. The screams and sobs were still audible beyond the room. "Y-Your majesty?"

"You are responsible for my grandson's plans. You streamline Prince Zuko's day and ensure nothing extraneous makes it to his ears. As any competent scheduler should. You were recommended to my grandson because you proved yourself exemplary with others. But to be a servant of the royal family means you must be the best. You must go beyond your station."

The Firelord was unruffled, still in a seated position as if he hadn't just ordered the execution of the Fire Nation's spiritual leader. "According to reports, you have proven yourself suitable to remain Prince Zuko's scheduler. And as such, there is something you must understand: I will have nothing impeding my grandson's training. Nothing. He is young and it has only recently come to my attention that he has perhaps not been receiving proper teaching. Until he is ready to stand on his own, I shall ensure that no more heirs to the throne will be threatened. Do your job well and you shall be rewarded. Already, I have sent to have your family moved to the second ring. But fail…"

Qi didn't need to be told what would happen if he should fail in his duties.

"Prince Zuko will one day ask to have time scheduled to see Prince Ozai. You will not allow this to happen. Ever. Everything you plan, you shall plan so that my grandson never has a chance to come into contact with Prince Ozai. Only when I give my permission will it ever be acceptable. If he should ever interact with his sister, Azula, you shall report so to me directly. If he should ever attempt to search for his mother, you shall also report directly to me. Any contact whatsoever with his previous family, you shall not delay in bringing to my attention."

Relations within the royal family, it seemed, were far from ideal. Qi had a million and one questions running through his mind, and his hands were still trembling. But the professionally trained side of him that wasn't terrified beyond words was already mentally planning how on earth he was going to make sure his charge had nothing to do with the very people he had grown up with. There were so many possibilities he couldn't account for, so many uncertainties. And if he slipped up…

Qi shouldn't have expected anything less from the royal family. Suddenly, this was no longer just a difficult job. It was a lethal one.

Here was the chance he had wanted to prove himself in the inner ring, an opportunity he could clearly not turn down. There was no choice. The scheduler bowed, his forehead to the floor. "As you command, your majesty. My life and hands are yours."

~0~

"You look terrible."

Zuko sighed as he threw a few copper and silver pieces on to the ordering counter of a small restaurant. It was a quaint establishment and a staple of many scribes since it was nearby headquarters.

The aftereffects of taking Dragon's Tears seemed to linger longer than its actual function did. Since returning to his scribing duties that morning after a day's break, Lord Eishun had very pointedly told Zuko that they would only run over the plans for future interviews verbally for the day. At first the young prince had been surprised at the lord's leniency. But then the elder man had irritably said that there was no point in overworking his scribe when Zuko looked like he was ready to collapse. They had finished the day's work quickly, and the only other plan the prince had was a small music session with Lady Modai after a long midday break. It was, quite frankly, unheard of to have so long a gap and Zuko had sought to fill it with Shaojun's company. The prince owed the older scribe for all of his help after all.

"I was under the weather," Zuko explained as they settled into one of the tables. "I do feel better now though, honestly."

Shaojun's face was far from convinced. "Kuzon, I'm pretty sure even ghosts would think you're far from the picture of health right now. What in Agni's name are you doing here today?"

"Well, maybe you are right. Seeing your face is bad for me…"

"I'm just trying to be a responsible senior by watching out for clumsy rookies," the elder scribe laughed, playfully jabbing Zuko's shoulder.

The prince smiled back, relaxed in a way he could never be in any other aspect of his life. "I know. Thank you."

"Hey, what are friends for?" Shaojun grinned, rubbing his hands eagerly as a server approached them with trays of their food.

Both of them dug into their bowls, stopping occasionally to discuss aimlessly of their scribal duties and poke fun at each other. Conversation was never too serious with Shaojun and it was something Zuko enjoyed immensely. The older boy was one of the only people the prince dared to lower his guard around. It was simply fun to not have to maintain the barrier that would exist if Zuko were here as a prince and everything was a little more positive when they were just two teenage boys trying to make the most of their daily jobs.

Zuko would have preferred it if they were left alone and to themselves. But the elder scribe was rather popular and longer they sat, the more several other scribes on break also joined their table. Those joining were not particularly fond of Zuko, and the opposite was also true in turn. When he was alone, they did not hesitate to ridicule his alias's colonial roots. But in front of Shaojun, they dared not to bring it up since it was obvious that the older scribe had taken a liking to Kuzon.

Therefore, while Shaojun was aware of the prejudice Kuzon was most likely experiencing, he could not be sure of who exactly was instigating since Zuko made a point to never complain. The prince was certainly not going to lay down all of his problems for the older scribe to see; Shaojun was already doing enough by helping Zuko adjust.

Some of the scribes' favorite things to discuss during breaks were the latest circles of gossip in the capital. During the few times Zuko was actually there to listen, everybody would talk about the nobles' relations incessantly. The prince would have thought it horribly unprofessional had the scribes not operated with an unsaid rule of confidentiality. Anything that was said amongst them largely stayed that way unless somebody was silly enough to reveal too much to another scribe serving the opposing lord. It was a delicate balance of contributing to the group discussion while simultaneously censoring information depending on the listeners.

Today, it seemed the topics of choice were not the nobles of the second ring, however.

"So what do you think of the new line of succession?" one boy asked, taking a bite into a bun.

Zuko immediately tensed, using every once of self control he had to appear unruffled. He had known that his family was always under scrutiny. But to actually hear said scrutiny was an entirely different thing altogether.

Another scoffed. "That's old news. News that nobody really knows the truth about anyway."

"But we just wake up one day to the news that Prince Zuko had replaced Prince Lu Ten? A little odd, don't you think?"

"What's really odd," one scribe further down the table waved, "is how the Firelord completely bypassed Prince Ozai and gave the position to his grandson. A grandson I've heard isn't too bright."

"You wouldn't know that," Shaojun frowned. Zuko felt an irrational urge to hug the older boy. "Have any of us actually met Prince Zuko?"

The scribe threw his hands up in defense. "It's just what I heard."

One boy to Zuko's left raised his voice. "Here's the real question: why hasn't the traitor princess been caught yet? Princess Ursa tried to murder our Firelord. How is she not yet executed –"

Zuko roughly stood up, slamming his palms into the table and shoving his seat backwards. His face could not possibly be devoid of emotion as he was trying to achieve, but right now the prince could care less. Not when he was boiling with anger. Nobody spoke about his mother like that. Mother was sweet and kind and loved him (right?) but none of the scribes here could know that. They spoke about things they could never understand.

"Kuzon…?" Shaojun asked in concern. "Are you okay?"

"Not feeling too well again," Zuko mumbled, turning away and leaving as fast as he possibly could without looking like he was fleeing. The prince could feel the older scribe's worried gaze on his back as he exited the restaurant and slight guilt tugged at Zuko's gut for leaving without explanation. After all, Shaojun was a fantastic friend to Kuzon the scribe.

But who was he to Zuko the prince?

Zuko was only few buildings away from the restaurant when he nearly bumped into another scribe coming down the road. The prince had been so caught up in his thoughts that he hadn't registered where he had been walking. Immediately, Zuko opened his mouth to apologize, but froze when he recognized who he had come across.

The Wang family's scribe sneered at Zuko's flustered expression, brushing off his impeccably pressed robes as if cleaning himself of the near encounter. There was only hostility in his voice when he asked, "You're Kuzon, aren't you? Lord Eishun's new scribe?"

Zuko did not know the other boy's name. He recognized the scribe from his first visit to the Wang household to ask for an interview, but had never been introduced. As far as he knew, they had never even spoken to each other. What had the prince done to antagonize the other boy so much already? "I am. And you are Lord Wang's scribe? I'm sorry, I don't know your name. You are…?"

"Cai," the other boy sniffed. "You visited my lord the other week. And you're planning another visit soon."

Zuko nodded. "I am. Yan agreed to –"

"Young Lord Yan," Cai corrected, scowling at Zuko's lack of propriety. "And I don't really care, colonial. Let me make one thing clear: keep out of my way. I am Lord Wang's scribe and you aren't going to take that from me."

The prince had to actually blink and take a few seconds to catch up. "You think I'm trying to take your place as Lord Wang's scribe?"

"Aren't you?" Cai crossed his arms and moved forward in an attempt to intimidate. "First you come in, and Lord Wang orders me out of the room. Then you have a private audience with him and Lord Quiang and Young Lord Yan. Now you're planning even more visits." The scribe jabbed a finger into Zuko's face. "I see what you're doing. You're sick of being Lord Eishun's scribe and so you're finding ways to get into Lord Wang's favor –"

"What?" Zuko gaped, astonished. "I'm not –"

"Don't think I'm falling for your tricks, colonial. I haven't been allowed into any discussion regarding you since last week! Me! His scribe! I did not graduate at the top of my class to have some second-rate nobody edge me out of my own assigned household!" Cai's face had slowly taken on the shade of a red pepper during his tirade, his cheeks flushed with anger. He looked only seconds away from tossing his book bag into Zuko's face. "But I'll make sure Lord Wang sees what sort of background you come from. Who can trust a country peasant who barely qualifies as a scribe?"

The prince was beginning to feel himself unravel around his edges. He was tired, and Agni knew his control was being tested today. His temper was already short from his less-than-ideal lunch. Zuko did not want to take these insults quietly; he was a prince! But Kuzon would. He wouldn't demand apologies for such slights. Kuzon would just take the comments and move on with his job since that was all he knew.

So Zuko grit his teeth and clenched his fists before lowering his head. "I'm sorry if that is how it seems to you, Cai. But the truth is that I am only doing as my lord asks. If you have a problem with that, you are going to have to talk to Lord Eishun yourself."

The prince brushed past the other boy before any more could be said and continued down the road. A disgruntled scribe was the least of his worries right now. After all, he had a tsungi horn to play with Lady Modai in fifteen minutes and he had yet to master the few bars she was hoping to perfect today.

~0~

It had been a little over half a year since the newly dubbed Siege of Ba Sing Se ended its 600-day campaign. During that time span, soldiers from the army had been slowly returning to the Fire Nation as the country's military sought to determine its next movements and strategies for the war. So much had been riding on the siege, on General Iroh's success, that there had been a hope of finishing everything before the year ended. But now the Earth Kingdom was only shaken, and what damages had been done to the outer wall had already been reportedly on the mend with earthbenders working tirelessly to fix the breach.

Zuko had only noticed these things in passing, in small comments made by his disgruntled tutors and from numerous murmurings from the soldiers when they thought he couldn't hear. Such information had hardly registered when he was so preoccupied with his new position and his new life. There was so much going on that the young prince's world had consisted entirely of accomplishing his duties. But even he, buried under all of his studying and scribal assignments, could not miss the news that the very last cohort of the army would be returning today. And General Iroh with them.

Zuko had no idea what to expect. So much had changed.

Zuko was now fully recovered from the Dragon's Tears. It had taken a good few days before he had felt himself again and during that time, his grandfather had demanded the prince do nothing in terms of firebending other than basic candle meditation. Zuko had been frustrated and angry at the command; all he wanted to do was practice now that they knew there was a way to improve his bending. But Qi had placated him by saying the Firelord only meant well. What good would it do to have Zuko practice firebending only to have it tire him out and draw out the recuperating process?

So the young prince had done as he was told, and now he was finally back to normal and more restless than he could have ever thought possible. His grandfather had agreed to begin proper training again just yesterday during their customary dinner when the royal healer's report had proclaimed Zuko healthy. But any celebration on the prince's part was quickly cut short when a messenger interrupted the meal to bring news that the last of the army would be arriving within the next day.

Any and all plans were placed on hold in light of such information. Qi had cancelled all of Zuko's classes. Lord Eishun had sent a hawk to inform the prince that there would be no scribing. Even the noblemen's courthouse and scribal headquarters had shut down for the day. The entire capital was frozen and it was as if the caldera itself were holding its breath in anticipation. Finally, the Dragon of the West, the Crown Prince, the heir to the throne, was returning. Even in shame and defeat, the Fire Nation and its people were eager to see General Iroh come home.

It had been like this since as long as Zuko could remember. It was an honor to welcome those of royal lineage back and more often than not, Fire Nation citizens tried their very best to be present for the return. This particular homecoming was of special interest for it was the first time in living memory that a child of Sozin's line had lost so spectacularly. The prince didn't like to consider it, but he had no doubt there would be equal amounts of sympathizers and dissenters present. Some understood why General Iroh had retreated. Others could not believe the Dragon of the West had been broken by one death. But no matter the side, almost everybody unanimously agreed that it was a waste of resources and lives to have given up at so crucial a point in the campaign. Generals were supposed to be stronger than the average soldier, people said. Generals – and especially one heir to the position of Firelord – needed to see beyond their own pain and serve the people.

Zuko was not sure how he felt on the subject. Now more than ever, he understood why the people thought the way they did. After all, the last few months had been filled with lessons on royal duty. But emotionally, he understood his uncle. He had known Lu Ten, the way he smiled when he was excited and the way his nose wrinkled when he was upset. Zuko still grieved sometimes when nobody was looking, and a great part of him was just happy to know that his uncle was finally coming home.

When the day came, the young prince woke to a capital waiting with baited breath, as if the entire caldera did not dare to make a sound for fear of scaring away the returning army. There was a careful tautness in the air Zuko felt he might have been imagining. But he went through his normal routine regardless, without his servants today since they had to be amongst the greeting crowd.

It was not protocol for Zuko, a member of the immediate royal family, to greet the army outside the palace gates as everybody else did. In the past, he and Azula would wait in their palace quarters while their mother and father went to the throne room to be present for the debriefings. Business was always first, and Zuko accepted that. But it did nothing to ease his restlessness. One day, when he was of age, the young prince would be allowed to be present in the throne room to speak with the returning generals and admirals too.

For now, Zuko tried to keep his mind busy instead. He pulled out his assignments to get a head start and unrolled a few scrolls of Staff Sergeant Quiang's weekly reports. There was usually nothing too exciting in Sergeant Quiang's writing. Simple records of shifts made the majority rather dry to read, but Zuko found it interesting when the notes on guard interactions were included. Sergeant Quiang took the effort to write the general thoughts of the royal guard, and even some complaints or suggestions that were made during shifts. They were worthy of note and certainly worth looking into for improvement. But Zuko did not have the power to do anything notable about it without alerting everybody that he was somehow spying. Knowing the information was technically not outside of a prince's rights. But it would take a lot of explaining as to how he knew the content of the guards' conversations in the first place. So he opted to bring up some of Sergeant Quiang's notes during his dinners with the Firelord as simple inquiries instead, hoping that his grandfather would do something about it.

It was roundabout and probably ineffective, but Zuko could think of nothing else. Not until he was more experienced and more involved. The reports served as one of the many motivations for Zuko to keep improving in his training as prince so that he may actually make larger differences in the future.

The young prince saturated himself with reading and writing for a few hours until even his work could not keep his restlessness in check. It was too much knowing that he was missing out on greeting the returning soldiers, and he opted to walk to the nearest courtyard for meditation to clear his mind. He itched to practice some of his forms; they had undoubtedly suffered some during his time off and would be a great way to release his jitters. But Zuko resisted and settled into a seated position in the grass.

Today was an especially quiet day. With everybody except the Royal Guard awaiting the army, there was only the soft whisper of a breeze to accompany Zuko as he placed a small candle (lit by non-firebending means) in front of him and closed his eyes. He allowed himself to relax, to focus only upon the cool touch of the wind gently tickling his collar and stray hair. Summer was still in force, but the breeze hinted at the nearing autumn, circling delicately around the columns lining the the space's perimeter, dancing with the candle's small flame, and wrapping around the small trees reaching towards the sun.

Zuko took several breaths in time and slowly felt his limbs loosen. His grandfather had told him to focus upon sensing external fire when meditating. "Do not reach out with your inner flame as a medium of control as you are used to," his grandfather had warned. "It will be against everything you have been taught so far, but it must be done." And he had been right. Meditating without spreading inner chi was so contrary to what Zuko had been learning his entire life that his first few attempts yielded nothing. How was he supposed to interact with the environment around him without his own chi?

But then the young prince had remembered briefly what it was like to allow his mind to wander, to simply feel without reaching during his last lesson with his grandfather. Once he did the same, relax and allow what was natural to happen, the prince finally consciously experienced what the Dragon's Tears had confirmed: interacting with external, independent flame was more natural for Zuko. It was not an exploration of the environment with his own chi, but rather grasping the existing chi around him. Zuko was touching the flames "bare-handed," and in doing so he found that he had to control another's energy rather than his own.

It was odd to say the least. Everything felt different. Independent, external sources of flame had a life and figurative identity of their own that he had never sensed before. The only way Zuko could describe what it was like before the Dragon's Tears revelation, was by comparing it to coating his tongue in oil before eating. A mouth coated with oil tastes nothing else no matter the food that passes through. In a similar manner, Zuko might have been tasting and feeling the outside flame before, but he experienced nothing unique except for his own fire. Everything had been, more or less, similar to his own flame in body and temperament. Now, he was actually experiencing each external flame's unique signature for the first time.

In concept, he was aiming to accomplish the same thing as any other firebender: controlling flame. But instead of making a connection with his chi and controlling himself as a means of controlling external fire, he was now directly controlling the fire's own energy. It was not easy; Zuko had to adjust and manipulate something that almost had a will of its own.

Yet, despite the steep learning curve he had to overcome, it was as if the prince were seeing the world with new eyes again. Like he had been given a whole universe to rediscover. That alone had made taking the Dragon's Tears worth it because, for the first time in a long time, he wasn't nervous to firebend anymore.

~0~

When the sun passed its zenith, Zuko sensed another flame enter the vicinity. It was strong, and burned with an age that the young candle did not exude. Carefully controlled power. It approached slowly, gently.

Then, a hand touched his shoulder.

"Prince Zuko." It was the firm, almost coarse voice of his grandfather.

Zuko was disappointed that it wasn't his uncle, coming to surprise him like he always did after campaigns. But the young prince wasted no time in opening his eyes and turning to bow. "Grandfather," Zuko greeted when he confirmed nobody else was present to witness his casual address.

"I am sure you are full of questions," the elder man said, and Zuko heard a tightness in his grandfather's tone that he hadn't heard in a very long time. "Come inside where fewer ears will listen and we shall speak."

The young prince obeyed immediately. The Firelord was not happy about something and Zuko felt a whisper of a familiar anxiety. Something was wrong.

Zuko quickly snuffed out the meditation candle, carrying it back inside the palace behind his grandfather. The elder man led them into one of the inner drawing rooms, where the prince occasionally had one of his classes. There, a tea set was already on the low table in the center and a servant was waiting on hand. Once both Firelord and prince was settled into their respective floor cushions with their tea served, they were left alone to speak in peace.

There was a tense silence that Zuko dared not break, his mind racing to figure out what might have gone wrong. He waited painstakingly as his grandfather took what seemed like an eternally long sip of his drink. Then, with the cup resting on one hand, the Firelord spoke.

"Prince Iroh has chosen not to return to the Fire Nation."

Zuko wasn't quite sure how to react. It was so sudden, so abrupt that he only stared uncomprehendingly at his grandfather. "Uncle Iroh –"

"Your newly-named father," the Firelord corrected.

Zuko flinched despite himself and said, with difficulty, "Father…is not here?"

"No, Prince Zuko. Not for now. One of his colonels reported that following the aftermath of the siege, Prince Iroh chose not to return to his country. Instead, he decided it was necessary to undertake a spiritual journey before returning to his post." There was now an undeniable anger in the Firelord's voice.

Zuko felt compelled to speak on his uncle's behalf and hesitantly suggested, "Maybe my…father needed to have some time alone because of Lu Ten?"

"It does not excuse him." The Firelord roughly lowered his cup on to the table, the tea now steaming hotter than it had before. "He is the Crown Prince. I have chosen to tell you this news in person, Prince Zuko, for there is a lesson to be learned here. What do you believe this lesson to be?"

"A prince must serve his country first," Zuko responded almost instinctively. It was one of the most prominent lessons he had been taught since becoming second in line to the throne. "His duty is to the Fire Nation and its legacy."

His grandfather was nodding. "Yes, always. You must understand, Prince Zuko. We cannot be like other men. I understand that Prince Iroh has lost, and lost greatly. I know how much Lu Ten meant to my son. But that does not allow him the luxury of leaving his men without command and of leaving his responsibilities behind. For him to leave everything is to leave the burden on the shoulders of those still here to fix his mistakes. Instead of facing the obstacle in front of him, he has chosen to run away."

Zuko was a mix of emotions again, his heart aching at the loss of Lu Ten but his mind absorbing what his grandfather was saying with alarming consensus. To be royalty was to put the Fire Nation before one's own personal needs, wasn't it?

"Prince Iroh has left the country without one of its pillars for an indeterminate amount of time. And he did so on a whim. For that, he will be punished when he returns."

Immediately, Zuko balked, his heart talking before his mind could catch up. "Must he?"

There was anger and fury in the Firelord's eyes when he looked at his grandson, directed not at Zuko, but at something else entirely. "You need to understand. He has left his country, his people, his family in its hour of need. This is the largest loss we have had in a century. He has abandoned us all – you included."

Zuko was at a loss for words, the vehemence with which his grandfather spoke shook him like a storm and the compounding implications of the news was finally catching up to him.

"Prince Zuko, while Prince Iroh lives he will remain the Crown Prince in name. But who do you think must now take his place during his absence? Who now must be prepared to take the throne should anything occur to me?"

The young prince could barely breathe. If something were to happen and Uncle Iroh were not immediately present to the take the throne, then the next in line would be…

"You, Prince Zuko. The responsibility is now yours. You must be prepared to sit on the throne so long as Prince Iroh does not return."

~0~

"No, like this," Ty Lee explained with a patient smile on her face. "You have to keep your center of gravity just a little more to the right."

Azula scowled. This was the fifth time Ty Lee was explaining the newest set of cartwheels to her. It wasn't like the royal girl to take more than two tries to master something. But gymnastics had never been Azula's strongest suit and that was why she was having her perky friend teach her in the first place.

"No frowning! You will get it in no time, Azula. You're amazing!"

During their first few months of acquaintanceship, Ty Lee's cheerfulness had grated on Azula's every nerve. She was too careless, too painfully happy. But it was more useful than not to keep the painfully loyal girl around, and so Azula had learned to censor anything that wasn't useful when it came out of that constantly smiling mouth.

"I know I will," Azula dismissed. Then, she glanced over at Mai. The broody girl was curled up under one of the courtyard's trees reading a book as usual. "Mai, why aren't you practicing with us?"

"It seems like a lot of work," she replied as usual, barely looking up. "Cartwheels aren't my thing."

"Oh, come on, Mai!" Ty Lee begged. "Just one try?"

Mai rolled her eyes before closing her book and placing it in the grass. She pushed herself to her feet and then stood with her arms crossed. "Fine."

They practiced for the next hour, falling over one another and staining their clothes green in more than one place. It was nice, when Azula allowed herself to the luxury of thinking so. Here, she was alone with only those loyal to her and nobody was around to ruin her day otherwise. Lately, it was all too easy to spend the whole day angry now that Zuko wasn't around for her to release her stress.

Just as Azula was beginning to land all of the forms Ty Lee was demonstrating, she saw in the corner of her eye a very familiar figure crossing one of the open halls at the periphery.

Father was so rarely home anymore. He was busy, busier than ever and she understood why. Father was a prince and he had important business to attend to, especially now that he was third in line for the throne. Fewer nobles were willing to bend so easily to somebody who had clearly lost favor with the Firelord. Azula understood why her father no longer ate dinners at home with her, why he could no longer teach her personally as often, and why he might have snapped at her once or twice. Father still loved her, his perfect daughter, and this temporary until he had regained what he had lost.

But that did not mean Azula had to like it.

She varied the target of her anger on a daily basis. Sometimes it was her senile grandfather who had taken away Father's birthright, sometimes it was her mother for somehow ruining everything in a single night, and sometimes it was her brother. Azula had not seen Zuko since his audience with the Firelord and although she never tried particularly hard to catch him, she sometimes wondered what he was doing. Probably princely things. So long as Zuko wasn't babbling her role in sending Mother, then she could care less. It was easier not to think about when she knew that she should have been in his place and Father in Uncle Iroh's.

Azula felt excitement at the sight of her father and immediately pulled away from Mai and Ty Lee to go to him. "Father!"

Prince Ozai was reading a scroll in his hands, his eyebrows pulled into a focused furrow. He lifted his head upon hearing his daughter and watched her approach. "Azula," he said. "I see you have brought your friends over."

"Ty Lee is showing me cartwheels. I think it will work perfectly with the latest form you showed me –"

Father held up a hand, stopping her. "We can speak about this later. I must focus on important tasks first, Azula."

She deflated at once, disappointed. It wasn't too long ago that he would have gladly spoken with her and encouraged her creativity. But she shoved aside the feeling to nod in understanding. Prince Ozai noted her obedience, gripping her shoulder in approval before he was gone again, down the hall to take care of his daily business. Azula didn't allow herself to watch him go and instead headed back to the girls waiting for her.

"My dad does the same thing," Mai said. Both girls were strongly attuned to Azula's moods. "They're just busy."

"Nobody asked," Azula snapped.

"Maybe you can help in some way," Ty Lee tried to supply helpfully. "It would lighten his aura, I'm sure."

At that, Azula smirked. "Finally, something useful out of your mouth today. I have been thinking along the exact same lines, Ty Lee."

Mai and Ty Lee exchanged a glance, suddenly serious and listening carefully. They had known this was coming, after everything that had happened. It was unspoken, unsaid. But they knew from experience that Azula never stopped plotting her next move, searching for the next step up. She could be formulating something for weeks or even months, gathering her thoughts and finalizing her plan. But it was only when she herself brought up an idea to them did they actively try to participate. They left the planning to her because that was how Azula worked. Both girls were simply always prepared to obey when they were needed.

Now was one of those times.

"I've been thinking, girls, that maybe it wouldn't hurt to get some useful information on the competition." She crossed her arms, her eyes alight with the fire of action. "We are going to find who in the Court is giving my father trouble and return the favor."

~0~

It was late in the afternoon, almost evening, when the preparations for the next day's interviews were finally completed. The three of them – Zuko, Lord Eishun, and Benki – had been working non-stop since the prince's recovery and it had been painstaking, detailed work since the lord demanded perfection. Benki's duty was to schedule when each child would come and that was not a job Zuko envied. Nobles were busy and to spare any of their children's time took a great deal of negotiation. Sometimes one family desired a time that another required, and it became a mess to decide who would get the preferred slot. Some had almost rescinded their agreement out of sheer lack of flexibility, but Lord Eishun had picked his scheduler well and Benki had somehow managed to fit everybody in for the next week.

Zuko's duties involved planning the interviews themselves, writing appropriate questions under Lord Eishun's discerning eye and contributing what he believed would work best for each family. The prince had met with all the children when first requesting their participation and he had been careful to note the disposition of each. Some of the children were Lei's age, too young to answer more complicated questions. Others were more shy and required carefully worded inquiries that wouldn't push them. Lord Eishun took all of Zuko's observations seriously and a small part of the prince was happy to be contributing effectively. Being carefully listened to and considered was something Zuko was experiencing in all aspects of his life now and he couldn't say that he disliked it.

The young prince was proficient at his scribing abilities now, finally mastering the art of keeping up with Lord Eishun's breakneck speed. Sometimes he had to write unspoken assumptions that the noble failed to say aloud and he had learned that most of his job involved rephrasing Lord Eishun's words for Court standards. Still, the job never left Zuko idle and he was grateful for it. Ever since hearing that Uncle had yet to return, the prince found it much easier to drown in work than have time to think about how he felt. In the end, nothing had really changed since he had been named prince. But just knowing that Zuko currently had no buffer to the throne was enough to make all of his duties weigh more heavily than they had before.

Zuko was packing his bag and Benki was gathering his scrolls to leave for the evening when a knock on the the study doors drew their attention.

"Come in," Lord Eishun called out distractedly. He was still looking over some last-minute paperwork.

A housekeeper entered with her head bowed and reported, "My lord, Lord Rikyu requests an audience."

Lord Eishun glanced up with a frown. Lord Rikyu was the noble who had proposed the elimination of the arts programs. "Reply to his message that I would be willing to accommodate after the next week of interviews. We are very busy now."

"My lord, Lord Rikyu did not send a message. He is here in person."

Zuko saw Benki stiffen out of the corner of his eye and wondered how poor the relationship between the respective lords was. The prince had only heard Lord Eishun speak of Lord Rikyu professionally, when discussing how to best counter his arguments in front of the Court. There had never been the impression of animosity. The situation, however, indicated differently. It was odd enough that another noble had taken the time and effort to appear in person, but for an advocate of the contradicting side to impose himself without announcement was almost an insult. It showed that Lord Rikyu did not value Lord Eishun's time, assuming that it could be easily disposed at another's whim.

Both scribe and scheduler waited for their lord's decision, neither daring to speak. Then, "Benki, you may retire. Kuzon, come with me."

Zuko hastily dropped his bag back down and pulled out his writing tools. Lord Eishun was a severe man and a taskmaster. But since beginning his role as scribe, the prince had learned to differentiate between the noble's various tones. Right now, the Lord Eishun's voice was carefully level, something he only did when he had to control his irritation.

Scribe and lord made their way to the guest room, where all visitors were seated for an audience. They made fast time for all of Lord Eishun's entourage knew that it was never a good idea to be in their lord's way when he was in a mood. Upon arriving, Zuko immediately focused his eyes on Lord Rikyu sitting in wait with a cup of tea that one of the servants had most likely provided out of hospitality.

Lord Rikyu was thinly built, his body almost dwarfed by his fine robes. He was not quite Lord Eishun's age for his hair only revealed occasional strands of white. His mustache, sporting the same sparse whiteness, was cut to a severe point, but his face was almost genial at first impression. Zuko had taken the time to briefly research Lord Rikyu and what he understood was that the noble was a man of rising power. His philosophy heavily focused upon strategic growth during warfare and was popular in the current day. His position in Court reflected that, with his propositions often voted upon positively.

It was almost poetic how the two nobles so blatantly contrasted each other. Lord Eishun presented old wealth and moderate interest for the war at best while Lord Rikyu promoted new advances and near fanatic enthusiasm for the war.

Zuko swiftly settled into his now-traditional seat slightly behind Lord Eishun's left side. The prince had his brush poised and ready in moments, waiting as was expected. Lord Eishun, though, was slowly lowering himself into a comfortable position at the front of the room, taking great care to ensure nothing was out of place. He took several long minutes to indicate his displeasure at Lord Rikyu's blatant lack of notice. Lord Eishun might have given into the other lord's request for an audience, but he would be sure to take Lord Rikyu's time in retaliation. Finally, Lord Eishun raised his eyes to the other noble as permission to speak.

"Lord Eishun," the other lord began, a pleasant smile on his face. "You honor me by allowing this meeting."

"You are welcome," Lord Eishun replied according to protocol. His expression spoke quite the opposite. "It must be urgent business indeed to come so close to Agni's daily rest."

Lord Rikyu was unfazed. "It is. I understand that we hold separate views on a great many things, Lord Eishun, but I have always believed us to be civil and honorable."

Zuko was getting the distinct impression that everything the man had just said was a severe understatement. He glanced up from his writing to watch Lord Eishun's response.

"I am sure," Lord Eishun agreed dryly. "But surely you did not travel all this way to speak of our honorable relationship?" Zuko's lord was being rather blunt, but that was not uncharacteristic of the elder man. He was well known to despise political small talk.

"I apologize for disturbing you at such an hour, Lord Eishun, but I have been hearing word that threatens your integrity."

At that, Lord Eishun's eyebrows rose. "Then you must be listening to spirit talk for there are no grounds for such word."

"I assure you, I am only speaking with you to check the validity of any statements against you," Lord Rikyu smiled and then he spread his hands open, palms up. "I come in good faith."

"Then speak of what you have heard, Lord Rikyu. And I shall tell you whether what you hear is truth or not."

Zuko saw a spark enter the other noble's eyes, a disquieting look that Azula sometimes got when she already knew the answer to a question. "I hear word that you are enlisting the statements of children who attend the Royal Academies. That you are collaborating with some of our colleagues to compile false testimonies."

It was about the most twisted version of the truth that Lord Rikyu could have possibly delivered. Zuko watched wide-eyed as Lord Eishun's face took a gentle shade of red.

"You insult me and my cause," the lord of the house said, his voice quivering with anger. "I allow you into my estate and you bring only false accusations before me."

"It is not true, then?"

"It is most certainly not."

"Then you are not interviewing children before the next Court meeting?"

"That is not within your right to know, Lord Rikyu."

A look of disappointment shuttered over the visiting noble's face, disdain turning his once welcoming face into a frown. "Lord Eishun, if you are speaking falsely –"

"Even if I were, I would not confide in an individual who interrupts my day without decorum and proceeds to challenge my honor."

"Lord Eishun, I would remind you that it is against Court rules to bring forward compromised documentation. And I as a man of true honor will not allow –"

"Lord Rikyu!" Zuko's lord had risen to his feet, his face now twisted in unhidden fury. "I will not tolerate this insult. We shall settle this amongst the Court and if you were a true man of honor, you would not come slinking to question a competitor's motives like an unsightly worm desperate for a crumb."

Lord Rikyu was controlled, but even he could not hide the reddening in his own cheeks. "You speak too bluntly, Lord Eishun. As you always have. One day it will get you in trouble. I will take my leave since I am no longer welcome. But I hope, for your sake, that your claims are true because rest assured that the Court will not stand for falsifications. Withdraw your stance now and you shall be spared the storm."

Scribe and lord watched the other noble leave without another word, his departure like the chill a winter's night. They remained silent even long after Lord Rikyu was no longer present in what felt like an effort to comprehend that the conversation had just really happened. Zuko had always believed Court intrigues to be subtle and nuanced. He had received the impression that the lords of the second ring moved with strict protocol ensuring propriety at every step. But that had been a direct attack, an undisguised threat. It was very clear that Lord Rikyu had known they were going to begin interviews and had taken the initiative to mislabel the entire endeavor. He wanted his motion of focusing class studies on war to pass and he was willing to face Lord Eishun directly for it.

"Boy."

Zuko jerked to attention, sitting upright. "Yes, my lord?"

"I want you to keep the record of this meeting safe and stored should we ever require it. I do not think we shall be filing this for official review."

"Yes, my lord." Zuko frowned, looking at Lord Eishun with a touch of worry. What he was about to ask was outside of his bounds, but he still spoke, "What shall you do, my lord?"

Lord Eishun was silent, his gaze focused on something else entirely. He was thinking and weighing what had transpired in his head with no trace left of his previous anger. The man seemed to reach a decision, though, because he turned to his scribe with his lips flattened into a determined line. "We shall proceed as scheduled," Lord Eishun commanded. "This only confirms that we are moving in the right direction. Lord Rikyu would not have come if what we were doing was not a threat."

Zuko felt the corner of his lips twitch upwards, the worry he had felt for his strict but not-unkind lord melting away. This was the tenacious and uncompromising noble he knew. "As you wish."

I know many of you have been asking about Uncle Iroh (and I understand because he is such a great character). But in canon, Iroh went on a spiritual journey for an undisclosed amount of time after losing his son. It was never described (at least not in the cartoon) when he came back. Therefore, I am going to presume he was gone for about a year. He will return in about another six months. In this AU in particular, Iroh would feel no urgency to return because Firelord Azulon is still alive to run the country.

So we will definitely continue to see more Azulon and Zuko as well as the effect each will have on the other.

Please forgive any grammatical/spelling errors! I try to read through several times for any obvious mistakes, but I do miss some.

Till next time!