Chapter Text
It was a glorious day -- a victory celebration, a chance for the quick coronation of a Fire Lord who’d inherited just under five years ago -- and Fire Lord Lu Ten was /this close/ to biting someone’s head off.
So many orders to sign. So many loyal soldiers who /deserved/ to finally be home with their families sent to bases and armories throughout the Fire Nation. He would get them home as soon as he could, he swore, but all of the forces in the home islands had taken part in treason, and at least some had done it willingly. Until the investigation concluded, he couldn’t risk leaving them on duty.
He should be thanking Agni and the Avatar that his soldiers were all still alive and hadn’t had to risk becoming kinslayers, but he didn’t like where those thoughts led.
The man who had despoiled his country and … committed many other crimes ... would need to keep breathing for some time longer.
And with those things on his mind, Lu Ten now had to give a speech.
“Avatar Aang,” he began, from the spot on the dais with the best carefully-designed acoustics. “Revered Sages, honored allies, and people of the Fire Nation!”
Cheers, already. And not only from the cheerfully messy foreigners, but the well-dressed civilians. And here in Capital City, which had the highest concentration of Ozai’s profiteers. He carefully reminded himself, as one would a screaming child, that this was technically a good thing.
“I wish that I could focus on my joy at being home again, or my sorrow at leaving my people so long in the hands of a usurper.”
But he was busy evaluating threats and calculating mitigations, because that was what living in this house did to you.
“But while as of this moment, the war is over --” Pause for more cheering. Excellent. “A different struggle has just begun.”
In the very corner of his eye, he could see his cousin. Still upright at least. Lu Ten knew the minute he himself had to kneel as part of the ceremony, his heir’s hands would hit the deck -- along with various nobles and professional political operatives, but Zukko would mean it. Lu Ten would then be stifling an ‘Up, Zuko.’ They were at court now, and the Fire Lord would have to tolerate a lot of civilian-nobility niceties.
“For eight minutes, the sun, which feeds our nation’s soul, withdrew from us, yielding precedence to the very moon whose spirit the traitor Ozai’s forces had brutally and self-destructively attacked months ago. For eight minutes, I felt an emptiness in myself, one I suspect many of my fellow firebenders also felt.”
Lu Ten swallowed, letting himself look out of the corner of his eye again, then took a breath. “That absence was a gift. A chance to address a much greater hole in the soul of our nation. To save us from burning alive.”
He stood as if at attention on a parade ground.
“The Fire Nation owes a debt to the Avatar, so there will be mercy. We owe a debt to the world, so there will be peace. We owe a debt to the Spirits, to the past, and to the future ... so there will be truth.”
**
When victory was declared, Sokka was still wearing his war paint. And so was Suki. Well, Suki was wearing her own war paint, not Sokka’s, each reflective of their cultures. The point was, they were looking together at the crowds of the Fire Nation capital. “Oh, and there’s Aang! Hey, Aang!”
Aang glidered over. “Hey!”
“So, destiny fulfilled, huh?”
“Um, not really.”
“Aang, you just, in the most Aang way possible, finished helping to end a century-long war. I bet that’s more impressive than plenty of Avatar careers -- ofcourseIdon’tmeanKyoshi.” He raised his hands to guard his face from Suki.
Aang giggled, then went back to serious-mode. “Sokka, I’m 12. My ‘career’ as the Avatar hasn’t begun. What I’ve done, what we’ve done, has been incredibly important, but when it comes to bringing the world into balance -- well, there’s still a lot of destiny to fulfill.”
“Then we’ll keep coming to fulfil it with you as often as we can, buddy.”
**
When Ozai came to, Lu Ten approached the cell.
“You may notice some problems in your chi. Those two kids have been eagerly practicing while Aunt Ursa has you drugged to the gills. They keep making the blocking last longer and longer. Real innovative stuff, I hear.” His smile was a razorblade. “So we’ll have a few minutes, Uncle, to talk about Spirit Fever.”
From her hiding place, Azula listened in fascination.