**** Hey guys! Okay so I am going to apologize initially for the beginning of this. Frankly, I thought it was choppy and just not very good. I felt that by the middle of it though, the story started flowing a little bit better. Maybe that is just me though.

This story centers around Zuko and Ozai, not so much Zuko and Katara, because it is about Zuko's ability to control his anger and express mercy which is what the virtue temperance teaches. This strained relationship between father and son would obviously prove to be a struggle that Zutara would have to overcome. Sorry for any mistakes also! I only read this through once looking for mistakes so I probably made plenty. Anyway, hope ya enjoy!

"Temperance"

The Fire Lord's back was rigid, his bones locked and anxious, so unlike his usual bending stance. Zuko, more than most people, understood the importance of a ready bending stance, the heavy significance of fluid limbs; the threat of attack was always looming in the back of his mind, despite the fact that the war had ended over a year ago. What could he say? Old habits die hard.

Today, however, his mind was otherwise distracted by other matters, matters that he considered more vital than the correct bending stance. His mind was filled to capacity with what today entailed for him, a day that he had been dreading for months. The day he was to speak with the previous Fire Lord, Ozai. His father-the man who had spent the better part of Zuko's life berating him, and emotionally and physically marring him; the thought of seeing the result of the harsh living conditions of the Boiling Rock branded into his father's body, and etched into the facets of his eyes, his soul suffering what his body could not, gave Zuko slight elation. The life Zuko lived under the iron fist of Ozai was pure hell, and, in his opinion, Ozai deserved whatever he was getting in prison.

A feather-light touch on the back of his hand caused Zuko's thoughts to disperse, and he glanced towards his right, to the beautiful woman who stood next to him. Her hair was loose around her face, and cascaded to just above her hips- she usually pinned it back, in traditional Water Tribe fashion, but today she decided to let it free.

She smiled slightly, reassuringly, at him, though he noted that the action did not quite reach her eyes. She was just as nervous as he was about the impending visit. However, albeit she was not aware, Zuko had no intensions of allowing her anywhere near his pathetic excuse for a father. He intended to have his mass of guards hold her back while he spoke with Ozai, and although Zuko knew she would protest, it was just in her nature, he felt that it was the right thing to do.

He took her hand in his, smoothing his thumb, calloused from years of rigorous training, over the soft, dark skin of her own hand. With a small flick of the wrist, he turned the water-bender's hand over, palm facing up. His fingers, usually rough, traced the lines in her palm with a gentle motion as her eyes leveled on him, her breathing suddenly becoming irregular in the sight of him, the man she loved more with each passing day. Quickly, Zuko deposited a light kiss on her palm, everything she needed to know said in the silence. His eyes met hers when he glanced up from her palm, finding that she was utterly focused on him, her bottom lip caged between her teeth. "I love you," she whispered.

"I love you, too," his voice was steady, which surprised him due to the state of the rest of his body, but he meant those words. Actually, those words weren't enough to describe to her his adoration for her. Agni himself probably couldn't describe it.

"Fire Lord," the sound of one of the prison guards caused Zuko to glance away from Katara for a short moment.

"Yes?" he answered, slight annoyance peaking in his voice because of the fact that this person interrupted him when he was obviously busy.

The guard visibly gulped, knowing Zuko had a tendency to make his Fire Nation royal temper known in the most unsuspecting of times. "The criminal is ready for i-interrogation."

Zuko nodded once, and looked back at Katara, her eyes having never left his face. "Katara," he mumbled, "I think it would be best if you waited outside while I go in and speak with Ozai."

His water-bender looked confused, her eyebrows furrowing and her lips already forming the foundation for impending speech, but he silenced her before she had a chance to speak by continuing his explanation, "I don't know if Ozai will try anything. He doesn't have any of his bending powers, but he's still got fists and feet. I just don't think he'll take kindly to even me being there, much less you. A Water- Tribe descendent."

Zuko could tell she wanted to protest; she wanted to scream and shout at him that he was underestimating her abilities as a fighter, but she didn't. Her lips closed and she nodded reluctantly at him, her eyes conveying that she was here for him if he needed anything. His heart swelled with love for his fiancée, and he gathered her smaller form into his arms, placing a gentle kiss on her lips before he unwillingly released her. Then he followed the prison guard down a few flights of stairs, accompanied by seven of his finest and most trust-worthy guards, until he was led to a red door. Zuko took a deep breath and walked through the threshold, not stopping at the sight of his ragged father that met him as soon as his feet stepped through the door. Bruises of varying sizes were stretched across the expanse of his pale skin; dirt and grime were ground into the rags that served as his clothing, and his ebony hair had grown out to past his shoulders, matted with dirt and blood. His entire form smelled of urine.

"Well I can see the staff here know how to take care of their most hated of offenders." Zuko spat, his voice a low, sarcastic growl, as though they were discussing a luxury resort. The Fire Lord felt no pity for the man who sat before him, his face gray and slim from malnourishment, his clothing slightly hanging off of his body. The hatred he felt for Ozai ran deep within his body until it was practically coursing through his veins.

Ozai's golden eyes glanced at Zuko, their hue still as bright and metallic and evil as ever. A meticulous smile found its way to his face, and he reclined back slightly in the wooden chair, worn from years of use. "Well, that definitely seems like the kind of greeting one would expect from a son. Where are your manners Zuko? Are you forgetting who raised you?"

Zuko's veins erupted in flames at those words. His feet were on the floor in seconds, his chair rattling to the floor as he angrily pushed out of it. Zuko's face was rigid, and poised directly level with his father's. Ozai didn't even flinch. "You did not for one minute prove yourself to be even an adequate father! How dare you say that you raised me! The only thing you did for me was mark me with this," Zuko gestured roughly towards his scar, towards the crimson disfigurement that stretched across half of his facial features, "this is a constant reminder of what I do not want to be. When I was thirteen I thought it was a punishment, but instead I've come to see this scar as a symbol of hatred and complete power, what almost destroyed the world- I see this scar as my blessing. I will never be you, Ozai." Zuko's voice was strong, and it boomed with each word he spoke like that of a true ruler.

Ozai's eyes had darkened slowly throughout Zuko's speech, and his lips pulled down into a deep hate- filled, frown. "How dare I? Your mother abandoned you, you pathetic boy! I was left to raise you all by myself and you dare say that I did nothing for you? I gave you that scar so that you would understand that you cannot be the weakling that you were- that you still are!"

"I am no weakling, Ozai. I am nothing of the sort." Zuko's voice hissed, dangerously low. His hands gripped the table-top that separated father and son, and his knuckles gradually became devoid of color. Zuko attempted to calm his heartbeat. He came here for answers. And he was not going to be blindsided by Ozai's attempts at unhinging him. "Where. Is. My. Mother?" Each word was spoken with precision.

Ozai's lazy grin was once more pressed across his lips, and he idly swatted invisible lint from his tattered shirt. "Oh Zuko." He laughed darkly, a low sound in the back of his throat. "You honestly think I know?"

The current Fire Lord resisted the urge to shout at his father. Zuko didn't just think that Ozai knew where Ursa was. Zuko knew it. "Where is she, Ozai?" He asked again, his patience wearing thin as the minutes ticked away. He was getting nowhere, and his blood pressure was rising dangerously. When the older man refused to answer, Zuko pushed the table up against him roughly, "Tell me!" he declared in a shout, his eyes rabid with the desire to tear his father apart. That's all that Zuko wanted to do for longer than he could remember.

Ozai just laughed again, his laugh bouncing off the walls of the small interrogation room, enlaced with a malice and malevolence that was even foreign to Zuko. Ozai was almost not human. He was a monster. The longer that Ozai laughed, the more desperate and rabid Zuko became. What had he done with his mother? Was she even still alive? Was she being tortured? The possibilities swirled through his mind, each one more grotesque than the last.

And the more Zuko tried to pry the answer from his father, the more he began to understand that this was a test. This evil bastard wanted a rise out of him- he wanted Zuko to scream and yell and curse him to Hell, to demonstrate his hatred in front of him so that the ex Fire Lord could drink up every detail until he was drunk on Zuko's agony. Ozai wanted Zuko to show him just how weak and cowardly he was. Wasn't that what words of hatred showed? Cowardice? Ozai wanted to know for sure that Zuko was no better than him. Deep down, possibly in a subconscious part of him, Ozai knew he was a weak man. He possessed the inability to show compassion or mercy. He couldn't control his anger, which was how Zuko received the marring of his face. And he couldn't accept different cultures and traditions- which was how the war began. Ozai was arrogant and vile and could not bring any part of him to love.

Zuko stopped yelling at his father, he stopped demanding answers and cursing him. The Fire Lord lowered himself in his seat as the realization came crashing into him. By acting the way he was, he was proving that he was no better than Ozai. Zuko's eyes glanced at his father, watching as his lazy grin morphed into one of mild confusion at Zuko's actions. "I will find her." Zuko's voice was quiet, nothing more than a mere mumble, but the truth in his words spoke volumes. "I will find her, Ozai, even if you don't tell me where she is. You think I'll stop looking for her if you don't tell me. And I can assure you that I won't. She was everything that a parent is supposed to be, something that you will never understand."

Ozai's eyes watched Zuko scrupulously, hardening with each word that came from his son's tongue- the words of wisdom that Ozai never had the ability to possess.

"I'm marrying Katara." Zuko said easily, confidently into the silence- knowing all too well that Ozai's reaction to this news would destroy the calm façade he had fashioned at this moment. But he needed Ozai to know it.

Ozai's eyes widened initially in surprise and that eventually morphed into utter outrage. This time Ozai pushed forward towards the table, the chair he was residing in clattering towards the floor. Ozai yelled in outrage, the chains around his wrists and feet chattering excitedly at the unexpected movement. "You are going to marry a Water- Tribe bitch? You'll corrupt the royal blood- line with your selfishness! You pathetic excuse for a Fire Nation royal! How dare you!"

Zuko's eyes flashed at his distasteful description of Katara, but he held his ground, ignoring the throbbing desire deep within his chest that begged him to attack this man. He would not stoop to Ozai's level. He was better than that.

"She will prove more qualified in the position of Fire Lady than any of the women that I would have had to choose from," was his response, his voice possessing a confidence that Zuko didn't know he had within himself. He guessed that this assurance came from his talking about Katara- she was the only thing he was sure of anymore.

Ozai's nostrils flared in disgust, and he glared at his son, hands trembling with anger. "How. Dare. You. She is a worthless piece of shit! If you want a Water- Tribe in your bed so badly, Zuko, there are plenty of those bimbos to go around! Do not marry one! You cannot corrupt pure blood for something like her!"

"Something like her?" Zuko repeated, as though the words were foreign on his tongue. "She is not something Ozai. She is everything. This is not about sex with us- this is about how much I love her. And how much she loves me. The world has accepted us- I was hoping that my own flesh and blood would too."

Ozai snorted, as though Zuko was more than an idiot for assuming such. Zuko glanced sadly at his father, knowing now was the time to end this. He had accomplished nothing.

Zuko rose to his feet, glancing once more at the man who had fathered him, and spoke, "I don't care that you don't accept her. I love her. And I'm going to marry her. And as for my mother," Zuko paused to prevent his voice from trembling, "I am going to find her. I don't understand how you could possibly have treated the woman you supposedly loved like that. And I will not turn into you, Father. I refuse." His voice was calm and controlled as he stared at Ozai.

And somehow, even though an hour ago his veins coursed with nothing but hatred, he felt pity for the man before him. His anger extinguished, Zuko studied the man before him, as though he was an alien being, which, in a sense, he sort of was. Zuko felt pity for Ozai- he never would understand the importance of loving another person. His heart was corrupted with a poisonous selfishness that would never be cleansed from his body- no, it would destroy him.

Zuko had almost turned into this creature- he had almost become what sat before him, garbed in prison clothes, eyes projecting hatred, but Katara had saved him, as she always had. And even though Ozai thought he was the strong one, Zuko knew that thought was incorrect.

With the thought of his water-bender taking control of his mind, Zuko knew it was time to leave. He knocked swiftly, three raps on the door to alert the guards outside that he was finished, and exited, ignoring the silence behind him.