A/N: I have taken way too long to write this… way too long… It fits into my headcannon, so for some, who has already read some of my works, some events and names will be familiar :) Enjoy!
Rating: T
Word Count: 3468
Disclaimer: [Insert funny text here that tells you I don't own Avatar – the Last Airbender]

Kizo is four when he first realizes that that something on his father's face is not normal.

Not that it bothers him – Daddy is Daddy, whatever he has on his face (and on his chest, he notes when they go the beach for a weekend). But he is a child, just discovering the world around him, and he is curious.

At first, he only watches the people around him – his Mommy, his little sister, grandma, his nanny, and the servants in the palace, but nobody has red spots on them like the ones Daddy has. He guesses this makes Daddy special – he is the Fire Lord, after all! –, but he is still curious of what it is.

At bedtime, when Daddy is kissing him goodnight, he touches the red spot on his face – he has done many times before, but he never really paid attention to it. Now, he feels its texture under the soft skin of his tiny palms. It's rough and uneven, not at all like the silky skin on Mommy's face.

But he still doesn't know what it is.

He doesn't dare to ask Daddy about it – Mommy said that it is rude to ask people why they look like the way they do (she said that after he'd asked a lady why she had such a big bottom), so he goes to Mommy instead.

Right before his afternoon nap he climbs into her lap, puts his arms around her neck, buries his little hand in her thick brown locks and inhales her sweet scent.

"Mommy, why does Daddy have those big red spots on his face and chest?"
He feels his Mommy go rigid. She takes her time to answer, so much time that he's asked something rude (again), and she won't answer at all.

Then Mommy exhales and starts to speak in a low, soft voice.

"Those are scars, sweetheart. Daddy got burned, and those scars are the reminders of that."

"Oh…" he says, but he there's still something he doesn't understand. "But then why didn't you just heal him? Like you healed my knee when I fell yesterday?" He holds up the limb, showing the soft, perfect skin.

His mother presses a kiss to his knee.

"Even Mommy can't heal everything, not perfectly. And Daddy's injuries were big – I couldn't do more."

He nods.

"And how he got them? Was he clumsy?" He always, always has more questions.

His mother chuckles.

"No. The one on his face," she kisses Kizo's left cheeks, "he got protecting innocent people, and the one on his chest," she tickles the little boy's chest, "he got protecting me."

Kizo is four, his world is the palace, the Ember Island beach and grandpa's teashop, and he is curious but young, and for now, this explanation will do.

"Daddy's very brave then," he says sleepily, his eyelids dropping. The last thing he hears before he falls asleep is his mother's soft, sweet voice:

"Yes, he is…"

Kizo is twelve, and they are learning about the hundred year long war in class.

Of course, they speak about the war at home, but only about the last few months and the funny parts. About the time Mom, Uncle Sokka and Uncle Aang first visited Kyoshi, and Aunt Suki made Uncle Sokka wear girls' clothes. About the time when Uncle Aang briefly attended a Fire Nation school and hosted a dance party. About the time when Mom met a fortuneteller, became obsessed with her, and even asked what she should eat for breakfast.

These are funny stories, meant to tell around campfires or the fireplace, when the whole family is gathered together. These are the kind of stories where, everybody who lived the events has something to add, just to laugh afterwards. These are the kind of stories the children always demand to hear.

These are the kind of stories Kizo loves.

But they are not the kind of stories he learns about in class.

At school, he hears about fights and villages burned down, about coups and betrayal and battle tricks. They learn about how earthbenders were deported from their villages to metal prisons out in the sea. About rivers polluted just to support the industry that would support the armies. About fights within his family for the throne.

About the duel between Dad and Aunt Azula.

It's hard to imagine that Dad and Aunt Azula has ever fought. He knows Aunt Azula – she is a little crazy, true, but nice. She lives on one of the outer islands in a small house (well, compared to the palace, everything seems small), with only a handful of servants. They go to visit her once or twice every year. If not with Mom and Dad, then with their nannies. Never alone, like they often go to Grandpa. Aunt Azula is usually quiet and sweet and has candies for him and his siblings, but sometimes she mumbles to herself and talks about crazy stuff and has something Dad calls a fit. She got one once when Kizo was about six and he was visiting his aunt with his little sister Lya. It was scary (she was shouting and breaking things and just being terrifying), and Lya and him were taken home the next day.

And anyway, it's completely impossible that Aunt Azula and Dad could have had an Agni Kai – Aunt Azula can't bend.

He stays after class to talk about this with his teacher. To make him see the mistake he made.

His teacher looks at him, kind of sadly.

"Princess Azula used to be a firebeding prodigy," he says, "but around the time Sozin's Comet came, she went insane. Avatar Aang had to take away her bending, because she posed a threat both to herself and the people around her."

And with that, he leaves, leaving Kizo there, confused.

It takes him the whole way back to the palace to put the pieces together.

He seeks out his mother immediately – he finds her by one of the streams in the gardens, practicing waterbending with Bin–bin. She sees right away that something troubles her son.

Five minutes later they are sitting by the turtleduck pond, all by themselves.

It's still hard to talk.

"It was Aunt Azula, right?" He says finally in a soft voice. "She was whom Daddy got his scar on his chest. She was whom he defended you from."

His mother sighs.

"Yes. But you have to understand that those were different times. Your aunt was different. And she… lost it. She was confused and not really herself, and she hasn't been ever since."

Kizo sees the truth behind her words.

"She went crazy, didn't she?"

Her mother hesitates, then nods.

"She spent years in an asylum afterwards, and moved to where she lives now after that. Before the end of the war she was very concerned about power – honestly, that was the thing that drove her mad. When her doctor thought she was well enough to leave the asylum, your father decided it was too dangerous to let her live in the capitol again. He was afraid the she would fall back into insanity."

Kizo bows his head. He is not sure he'd want to know Aunt azula before the end of the war.

"And that's why we always take all those nannies when we go to visit her. That's why we had to come home when she started screaming and throwing things. Because you and Dad are afraid that she would go crazy again." He hesitates, then adds. "…Well, crazier."

His mother swipes few stray strands of hair from his forehead.

"Yes. But she still loves you and your siblings, you know that, right?"

Kizo can only nod. He doesn't speak after it for a long time, only watches the turtleducks swim around in the pond.

"How did it happen exactly? The duel?"

His mother doesn't answer right away.

"It was during the comet. Your aunt was to be crowned, but we came with your father to stop her. He challenged her on an Agni Kai for the throne. Your Aunt Azula was not completely sane, even during the duel. Your father wanted to use it for his advantage – he was taunting her."

Kizo listens to her, holding his breath. This is a story, he knows, he won't hear ever again, not in class – it's not something that will make into textbooks –, not during family reunions – it's something that's too painful to talk about.

"But your father miscalculated something – your aunt did lash out, did exactly what your father wanted her to do, but he wasn't her target."

She doesn't have to finish it; Kizo knows the end of the story already.

"It was you. She attacked you. And dad saved you."

His mother nods.

"Yes, he jumped right in front of me, right in the way of your aunt's lightening." She takes a deep breath. "He barely survived. I finished the duel, tied your aunt down, then went to help him. He still has the scar, the one I am sure you have seen numerous times. That's the end of the story."

They fall silent again. One of the trurtleducks waddles over to them and probes around the hand of Kizo's mother, searching for bread. She laughs and opens her hand. She doesn't have any right now. Kizo wants to laugh, too.

"So Daddy was ready to die for you?" He says finally in a small voice, not taking his eyes off the small animal.

"Yes," his mother replies, patting the turtleduck's head. "As much as I was ready to die for him."

Kizo needs time to process all this.

"I hope someday I'll find a girl I'll love as much as Daddy loves you." He says finally. He can't think of anything else to say. Anything else is too dangerous.

His mother smiles and takes him into her arms (even though he is getting too old for this) and kisses the top of his head.

"I don't wish anything less for you."

Kizo is fifteen, and he is having a fight with his father.

It's a petty thing, really. Honestly, he doesn't even know why they are having such a fit over it. He wants to go to Ember Island for the weekend, because one of his friends is hosting a party there. His father doesn't want to let him go, because some dignitaries are coming from the Earth Kingdom the end of this week, and as the crown prince, he is expected to welcome them.

Kizo is upset, and says that it's unfair that he can't go and enjoy his life.

His father is upset, and says that he should take his title seriously. He is going to take the throne one day, after all.

One thing leads to the other, and the next thing Kizo knows is that they are arguing in his father's office with the door open, yelling from tops of their lungs. At one point, his youngest sister, Biyu comes in, stands in the doorway for a minute, and then runs out crying (she is only five, for Agni's sake…), but Kizo pays her no mind.

He is so, so mad! Why can't his father see that… argh!

He doesn't think. He doesn't even know what he is saying until the words are out of his mouth.

"That's enough! You are so… so… I challenge you on an Agni Kai!"

He only realizes what he has said when the color drains from his father's face.

Now, he has seen his father angry numerous times – when he or his siblings did something naughty, or his council upset him or he had a row with their mother. He is scary then: his face reddens and he is yelling, and sometimes he is literally smoking.

But this? This is worse.

He is silent. Completely, utterly silent. His face is blank. He seems to have frozen where he stands. It's terrifying.

"Go to your room," he says finally, his voice is barely above whisper. "Go. Now."

Kizo doesn't talk back. He doesn't say a word. He just complies.

It isn't the first time he's been sent to his room. It shouldn't feel weird or scary – but it does. He is beyond terrified. He doesn't know what pushed his father over the edge – and he is not sure he wants to know.

In his room he sits on the windowsill and waits. Waits for his father, his mother, a sibling, a nanny… somebody who will tell him what's going on.

What he did wrong.

His door opens about an hour later – it's his mother, with two steaming cups of tea in her hands. Without a word she crosses the room and kneels beside him, handing him one of the cups.

He takes it with a heavy sight.

"I really messed up this time, didn't I?"

His mother doesn't answer right away.

"It's complicated, but…" She takes a deep breath. "I think it's time you learned how your father got the scar on his face."

"He protected innocent people. You've already told me that," he remembers asking about the scars when he was little. The memory is still clear – he, in his mother's lap, his arms around her neck…

"There's more to it. I've already told you – it's complicated…"

And with that, she launches into the story.

A story about lenient uncles and stern fathers. About war and fights and blood and lives. About soldiers who should haven been spared. About a boy, who stood up for them. About an Agni Kai between father and son that didn't even really happen. About pain and flames and cruelty. About banishment and impossible tasks.

When she finishes Kizo feels like crying.

"I… I didn't know…" he stutters, "I didn't…"

His mother takes him into her arms (even though he is way too old for that) and caresses his hair.

"Of course you didn't… and it's okay. Your father isn't angry with you. He is just scared… you scared him. He felt like…"

"He felt like he was becoming his own father," Kizo finishes the sentence for her.

His mother pulls away, wiping the tears from her face.

"But he is not, and we have to reassure him about that. You should go and talk to him."

"But what if…" What if he is still angry with me? If he doesn't even want to see me?

"No buts! Just let him know… let him know, that…"

"That I love him. That he's a great father."

His mother nods and gives him a teary smile.

"Yes, exactly."

Half an hour later Kizo finds his father exactly where they parted – in his office. He is sitting at his desk, brush in hand, but the paper in front of is clear, untouched. Kizo is sure he's been sitting ever since he sent him to his room.

"Dad?" He says carefully, standing at the doorway. His father turns his head towards him. "I… I just wanted to say that I am sorry. For everything. I didn't mean to… I mean, I am sorry." He bows towards his father.

His father only nods.

"Kizo, you have to know…" His words are hesitant.

"I know," he steps closer. "I spoke with Mom."

His father stands up. Kizo doesn't know what to say. He doesn't want this to get awkward. He didn't want talk about his monster of a grandfather.

"You know, I have been thinking…" he speaks, before his father could say a word. His father lifts an eyebrow, indicating that he is curious, listening. "These very important men who are coming… are they bringing their kids along?"

His father shrugs, now standing only a few feet away from him.

"I don't know. A some of them, maybe. Why?"

"Well, what do you say if I welcome the whole lot with you, and then after a few days, I take their kids to Ember Island, and show have we party Fire Nation style?"

A tiniest smile appears on his father's face.

"So you still get your beach party?"

It's Kizo's turn to shrug.

"Hey, it's a compromise – basic politics. I've learned from the best."

His father lets out a chuckle.

"We'll talk about it."

"Why not during a Pai Sho match? If I win, I get to have a party, if you–"

"You are spending way too much time with Grandpa Iroh," his father pats him on the shoulder, already leading him away from the office, presumably to a sitting room where they can find a Pai Sho board.

Kizo is eighteen, and he is travelling alone for the first time.

He is heading to Omashu, without his parents, his siblings, or any staff sent to look after him. There's nobody to give him orders now.

That's why he decides to take a little detour.

The prison is on a small island halfway between the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom – far enough from the Fire Nation capitol to be considered safe and close enough to the Earth Kingdom, so they, too, can keep a close eye on the prisoners.

His paternal grandfather amongst them.

It's going to be the first time he sees him. He doesn't know what he should feel.

He hates this man, he knows, it doesn't matter that they share their blood. He is a monster, he knows. Ozai burned his own son, ruthlessly, without regrets. He was ready to burn Ba Sing Se to the ground. His obsession with war almost destroyed the Fire Nation.

Yes – he is monster.

Kizo is afraid – afraid of himself. Afraid of what he'll do once he sees his grandfather. He is afraid that he'll want to burn him, just as he did to Kizo's father. He is afraid that'll want to kill him.

A sole guard leads him to Ozai's cell. The corridor is dimly lit and wet and cool. Somewhere water is dripping from the ceiling and its sound is maddening.

When they reach the door of the cell the guard bows to him and leaves, letting the prince face his grandfather alone. He is not needed – if it came to that, the young man could surely overpower his old, weakened, bending–less grandfather.

When Kizo opens the door and steps into the cell, he stops for a moment, completely taken aback.

The small room is dominated by the stink of unwashed human body. It's almost completely dark inside, the small widow high up on the wall hardly letting in any sunlight. There's a body curled up on the cot in the far end of the room, dressed in drags. The body moves, the man raising his head at the sound of the opening door.

"Who's that?" Ozai, once proud leader of the Fire Nation asks in a rough, shaky voice.

Kizo sucks in a breath.

He doesn't really know what he expected to see… but it wasn't this.

This man, in front of him is… old. Broken. Fragile.

His hair and beard is messy, unkempt, completely white. His hair is thinning. There's hardly any flesh on his bones. His skin is abnormally pale, marred with wrinkles and moles. His nails are cracked, dirty. Several of his teeth are missing. The way he looks everywhere but him tells Kizo that during his years kept in this cell he has gone completely blind.

So that's what twenty years of prison does to a man.

This would be the powerful Ozai? The proud Fire Lord? His grandfather? The Phoenix King, who almost destroyed half the Earth Kingdom?

No. This is only the shadow of that man.

"Who's that?" Ozai asks again, this time louder, angrier.

Kizo doesn't answer. He simply backs out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

He hates him, yes. He hates the thought that he hails from this man. But he doesn't want to burn him, kill him, anymore.

He has been punished enough.

But this doesn't mean that Kizo has the slightest desire to get him out of here.

Kizo is twenty-two, he's a grown man and he's about to get married.

He knows his family's every secret – it's a heavy burden, but he has grown strong enough to carry it. He is strong enough to take his father's place on the throne one day. He is strong enough to carry on his legacy, and not to succumb to madness, losing his mind to power.

He also knows that one day he'll have children, and sooner or later they will ask about their grandfather, the scars he bears. He hopes that this day is far in the future, but still, he already knows what he'll tell them.

"They are just the reminders of what a great, brave man your grandfather is."

A/N: Just to keep up with my little tradition – I found the name of Zuko and Katara's third daughter – after Lya and Bin-bin – while I was looking for names for this year's Zutara Week. It means jasper, precious stone.