Chapter 2

Part 2

Oh.

That didn't sound good.

Iroza blinked, the ache in his arnms forgotten for now.

"Impress? Me? That's.."

Concerning, actually.

Attention from Ozai was bad, bad news, as a rule.

"Well," she said, stretching out the word and sounding far too casual for his liking.

"Impress is perhaps too strong of a word. He noticed, once your master brought it up a few times, and he may have said something that could be interpreted as praise to someone like you"

"Praise," he repeated dryly.

A knot starting to form in the pit of his stomach.

"Is that devious sister doublespeak for something awful? It must be."

"I would tell you, but," she quickly trailed off, her impish smirk fading as she got a faraway look in her eyes.

She shook her head.

"Ah, but it wouldn't be fair for me to spoil the surprise. The two of us are expected to meet with him shortly"

That emotional shift was concerning.

"I will prepare myself for the worst," he said.

It was extremely easy.

Azula then smiled a dazzling smile, carefully manufactured to convey both mockery and something vaguely resembling affection to someone who had read about the word in a dictionary once.

The knot in his stomach tightened by quite a bit.

Her smiles were terrifying, and she definitely knew it.

"You arent helping, Zula," he whispered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Oh, spirits. I'm dead, aren't I? He's decided its time for me to die a death of a thousand lectures on propriety."

She laughed, and it was just as Scary.

"Of course not, dear brother. Dont be so dramatic."

Entirely unconvinced, he followed her back into the palace halls.

The throne room.

Just as dour and fiery as ever.

As always their father insisted on not wearing a shirt, a robe, or anything to cover up his torso.

And to be fair, he was impressively muscled.

But he was their dad, and Iroza still thought it was weird and showy.

Anyway, the true reason he was shirtless was probably that it was so damn hot.

Having the throne be surrounded by fire all the time was intimidating, sure, but it came at a high cost.

Iroza was a firebender too... But goddamn.

Even he enjoyed chilling out sometimes.

Being the favored daughter, Azula approached the throrne and knelt first.

"You summoned us, father"

Iroza followed shortly after, already starting to detach himself from the situation.

Basically a habit at this point.

There was no immediate response.

A minute passed.

Iroza saw Azulas face twitch out of the corner of his eye.

It was just a power play.

A reminder that they waited on him, on his beck and call, and would keep waiting on him.

Much of the man's face was shrouded by flame, but Iroza could still feel his gaze shift over the two of them.

Watching.

Judging.

As always, Iroza's face was carefully blank.

A caricature of obedience.

"Azula, my daughter," he said eventually, his voice warm and powerful.

"My time spent personally Overseeing your training has borne much fruit. The sages say, and I would agree, that you are the most talented firebender of your generation. You have brought honor and glory to the Fire Nation, and to me."

Of course he couldnt just come out and say he was proud of her.

Iroza resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

It was a near thing.

Azula stiffened, fighting off a smile and bowing her head.

"You honor me, father."

Iroza was nearly surprised but still managed to be as unsurprised as usual.

Azula was smart, but she was also too willing to believe in their father's sincerity.

He couldn't really blame her.

She was only fourteen.

Then Ozais attention truly shifted.

"Iroza," he said, and his voice was nearly the same.

Little ticks and changes to his tone gave it away.

He was as uninterested in his son as ever, and Iroza wouldn't be fooled to think otherwise.

"Word has reached my ears, from your master and the sages, that you have made much headway in overcoming your.. Weakness. This is true?"

"Yes, father"

He smiled slightly, sounding amused.

"It's even been said that you may be worthy of being called a master, like your Sister"

Iroza kept silent.

"I admit... find myself doubting this claim, given your past performance," he said, trailing which neither of his children joined in on.

He looked back at Azula. "Azula. Your power and prowess as a firebender is Without question, and you are among those who have recently seen the limits of what your brother is capable of"

Into a mirthful chuckle.

Ah, so that was the play.

What a dick.

"So tell me," he said, all traces of warmth now gone from his voice. "In your eyes, has your brother displayed sufficient skill? Has he earned the honor you have achieved?"

Asshole.

Iroza didn't look at his sister nervously, or at all.

He knew what she would say.

It was a foregone conclusion.

She didn't hesitate.

"No, father. I don't believe so. But he is close!"

He appreciated the bit at the end, at least.

It was a test.

Every word exchanged with the man was, in his experience.

Clainming he was ready for mastery was the same as disagreeing with their father.

Something both Iroza and their father knew she wouldnt do.

Ozai sighed, feigning disappointment. "That is unfortunate. Having another of my children achieve mastery at such a young age would be.. For the best." He hummed.

Pretending to seriously think about it.

Then he tilted his head in a way that Iroza found particularly annoying. "It seems we might be forced to wait on the return of Zuko for that."

ldly, Iroza wondered how quickly he could cross the gap and fail to kill the man.

Fairly quickly, he'd wager.

At this point, he was just waiting to be ridiculed a bit more before being dismissed.

These meetings were all the same.

"Of course, this is unacceptable."

Despite his composure, Iroza's eyebrows drew together in confusion.

"Eldest of my children he may be, Zuko is disgraced and banished. Any achievements of his do not bring honor to our family, because he is without honor until his task is

complete"

That last bit was just unnecessary.

Zuko wasnt even there to be teased.

"And yet, despite his banishment, he is well tutored and likely to achieve mastery in his own right. The Dragon of the West oversees his training personally."

Mostly tuning his father out, Iroza resisted the urge to sigh.

He sort of missed Iroh, honestly.

His uncle was annoyingly cryptic and far too upbeat, but he was a solid teacher.

The day he had left with Zuko was a sad one.

Iroza had started cycling through instructors soon after that.

Probably for the best.

Zuko needed someone like that to ground him and keep him from going too far off the deep end of angst.

It was funny, but at times he was jealous of his older brother.

Banishment bad, sure.

But also; high seas adventure with no tangible responsibilities.

Also not having to see their father anymore.

Oh well.

In another life, maybe.

Eventually his father got off of the Zuko tangernt, and once more started talking about something Iroza gave any shits about.

"Azula says you are close to achieving mastery. I am prone to believe her. Yet I also find myself impatient. Your pace of learning has been slow since you began bending, despite your dedication to it," he said, and Iroza almost tuned out again in the face of another rant about how inferior he was.

His father's next words jolted him right back to reality.

"My solution is simple. You will do more than merely bear witness to the war our nation has fought for nearly a century. You will taste battle and bloodshed, serving under one of my most distinguished servants." He paused, then smiled a small and cruel smile. "Call it a trial by fire."

Ugh.

Bad Ozai.

No more puns.

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A few days went by.

There were well-wishes by palace staff and prominent nobles who would drop in and out for meetings with Ozai.

Congratulations and words of advice from his master, who was nice enough that Iroza decided that he might actually miss the man. Whatever his name was.

There was also a bit of packing which he had no real part in.

But most of all, there was brooding.

Not real brooding.

Fake brooding for posers and hipsters, like him.

He just enjoyed fresh air and solitude.

To that end, he sat on the uppermost roof of the palace.

The highest point of the structure he could find.

Getting there involved no small amount of climbing, and just a bit of the ol' fire-hand iron man double-jump assist.

He sat cross-legged on the edge of the roof, watching the sun go down.

It was cold and lonely, just how he liked it.

He was not brooding.

He was just thinking about his life.

It was hard not to, especially with such big changes on the horizon.

He would be serving under a general over in some occupied Earth Kingdom territory, apparently.

If he had to guess, he would likely be subjugating smaller towns and villages, taking down earthbenders when they showed up, and slowly tightening the noose around Ba Sing Se.

Azula had been more snide than usual since the official announcement.

Seemingly torn between making light of his new assignment, and subtly probing him for information and demanding he maintain a regular correspondence with her.

He couldn't help but grin at that.

She was definitely jealous.

As though summoned by his thoughts, Iroza could hear the tell-tale sounds of annoyed grunts and fiery blasts that heralded his sister's arrival.

Turning to look behind him, he offered an enthusiastic golf clap as she shot up over the edge of the roof, fire and smoke trailing behind her.

Pulling off a flawless superhero landing, she sighed.

"Must you keep finding more and more annoying spots to brood?"

He was not brooding.

Was that so hard to accept?

"Fun climb, I take it?" he said cheekily.

She pointedly ignored him, straightening up and smoothing the creases out of her clothes.

Boo, stubborn silence was lame.

"You know, if I wasn't so secure in my top-tier masculinity, I might be annoyed at how easy you made that look."

Azula rolled her eyes, making her way across the roof to join him. "I would advise you to reexamine your idea of 'top-tier' masculinity if that's the case. Not mistaking arrogance for self-confidence, and all that."

Ah, snide insults.

Much better.

"Arrogance. Confidence." He shrugged. "It's all part of the persona, dear sister."

She didn't answer.

Instead, she sat down beside him with a huff, leaning back on her arms and dangling her legs over the side.

"Your ship leaves tomorrow," she said, glaring out into the middle-distance.

Iroza had no witty reply to that.

"Yeah," he said quietly, scratching his cheek.

"Off to Earth Kingdom, and the war." He nodded.

"You'll earn prestige and acclaim," she said, almost sounding as though she was talking to herself. "Once you prove yourself in the field, father ought to recognize you as a master."

"Do you?" At her raised eyebrow, he elaborated. "Do you think I'm at that level?"

"No," she said flatly, ignoring his frustrated groan.

"Don't whine. You've only yourself to blame, hampering your own progress all these years. The fact that you're up for mastery at all is surprising, especially given your unusual style."

"I'm an innovator, what can I say," he said with a grin, shooting a triumphant fist towards the sky.

"One day all firebenders will know the name of Iroza, the father of fire-edging!"

Azula closed her eyes, muttering something like a frustrated prayer. "Sometimes I wonder if you even attended our lessons on royal etiquette."

"Of course I did."

"Yes, I know. We attended them together. Hence my confusion." She shook her head.

"In any case, I was more referring to your obsession with minute control and resistance. And I suppose that does extend to your...Original technique."

He snickered at her hesitation to even acknowledge it. "It'll pay off eventually. Probably!"

"One can only hope."

A silence took hold at that point.

They sat together watching as the sun began to dip behind the horizon, leaving the sky orange in its wake.

The warmth of the sun slowly left with it.

Ships left the harbor, and ships arrived.

One of those ships would be ferrying him away in the morning.

He wasn't sure which one, and he honestly couldn't be bothered to check.

Azula knew, no doubt.

She had likely looked up the name, family history, and service record of every person on board.

But she would never admit it, and he would never put his well-being at risk by asking.

Without looking, he bumped shoulders with her.

After a few seconds, she reciprocated.

For a while, that was all there was.

No teasing or sarcastic praise.

No jokes or insults.

No talking about their father, or wondering what their older brother was up to.

No dumb arguments about his bending, or bragging about hers.

Definitely no emotional confiding, tearful goodbyes, or promises of coming back in one piece.

Never that.

Just sitting in companionable silence, watching the world happen.