Avatar: The Book Of The Phoenix

Rokkun Returns

The flickering oil lamp cast dancing shadows across the tent's woven walls, illuminating swirling dust motes. Azula sat on a crimson rug, delicately wiping black pigment from her eyelids, her golden eyes stormy in the dim light. Nearby, on a low bed, Sozin gurgled happily, his auburn curls framing his chubby face as he swatted at a colorful feather toy. In his crib, Viszla slept, his soft breaths a quiet counterpoint to the camp's distant clamor.

The tent flap flew open, and Khan Rokkun burst in, a whirlwind of dirt and animal hides. "Where are my boys?" he boomed, his voice filling the space. Grime streaked his face, proof of a successful hunt, and his bronze hair hung loose, half-hiding the scar Sokka's blade had left in their Agni Kai.

"Sozin!" Rokkun called playfully, dropping his bow with a clatter. He crept toward the bed, grinning broadly. "Got you!" Sozin squealed, kicking with delight as Rokkun tickled him.

Viszla's wail broke the moment, startled by the noise. Rokkun's laughter faded as he scooped up his youngest, cradling him gently. "Shh, little Viz," he murmured, rocking the infant.

Turning to Azula, his eyes softened. "My fire lily," he said, leaning to brush a kiss across her forehead, his tone warm with affection.

Viszla quieted, lulled by his father's rocking. Azula arched an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "Rokkun, you're a mess. Time to clean those wounds before you scare the boys with that rugged look."

Rokkun glanced at his dirt-caked arms, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "A mess? I thought you liked a rugged warrior." He leaned closer, voice teasing. "Maybe I deserve a hero's welcome first."

Azula's smirk widened, her eyes sparkling. "No turtle ducks?" she asked, tilting her head.

"Not a single one," Rokkun replied, winking. "Just as my queen commanded."

"Hmm," Azula purred, stepping closer, her voice light but teasing. "A successful hunt might earn you a reward... later." She flicked her gaze to Sozin, who giggled at his toy. "Not in front of the boys, though."

Rokkun chuckled, setting Viszla gently in his crib. He moved to a small mirror, wiping grime from his face with a rag. Azula watched, her playful demeanor fading as she studied the scar—a stark reminder of their enemies. Beneath the dirt and scars, she saw the fierce warrior, the devoted father, the man she'd chosen. But a shadow crept into her thoughts: General Shoka's arrival.

"Your father came today," she said, her voice flat, the warmth gone.

Rokkun paused, rag in hand, and turned. "And?" he asked, tone casual but guarded.

"Doesn't it concern you?" Azula pressed, suspicion sharpening her words. "Even a little?"

Rokkun shrugged, resuming his cleaning. "Why should it? Shoka's my father. We don't always agree, but he's family."

"Family?" Azula scoffed, her voice dripping with disdain. "After how he treated you? After you exiled him?"

Rokkun's eyes hardened, the rag stilling. "He was wrong," he said, voice low, dangerous. "But he's paid for it. He's here to prove his loyalty."

"Loyalty?" Azula's laugh was sharp. "To you, or to his own ambitions?"

"Azula," Rokkun warned, his tone a low growl. "Don't speak of my father like that in our home."

Azula flinched, her eyes widening at his sudden anger. She recovered quickly, her voice softening. "I... didn't mean to push," she said, though her gaze held a flicker of unease.

Rokkun exhaled, his anger ebbing. He crossed to her, pulling her into a warm embrace. "Let's not dwell on the past," he murmured, his voice regaining its calm. "Focus on us—Sozin, Viszla, our life here."

Azula nodded, her eyes on the floor, but Shoka's presence gnawed at her. His arrival was no coincidence—a calculated move in a game she didn't yet understand. She was determined to uncover his true intent.

"I've grown fond of this life," she said softly, almost to herself. "You've made peace with King Xuo. The southern provinces are ours. Do we really need to invade the Fire Nation? To chase that crown?"

Rokkun's gaze fixed on the lamp's flickering flame, his expression hardening. "Azula," he said firmly, "this is our destiny—mine, yours, our sons'. To unite the world under Fire Nation rule."

"Our future is here," Azula countered, her voice rising. "With our boys, together. The crown's a burden, not a prize."

Rokkun's temper flared. "How can you say that?" he roared, the tent trembling with his voice. "After all we've sacrificed? The crown is ours by right! Ozai promised it to you, until your brother stole it!"

Azula's eyes flashed. "You forgave Shoka, recalled him from exile," she shot back, sarcasm biting. "But Zuko's mistakes are unforgivable?"

"Enough!" Rokkun bellowed, his fist slamming the table, sending Sozin's feather toy tumbling. Sozin wailed, startled, and Viszla's cries joined his brother's.

"Look what you've done!" Azula snapped, scooping up her sobbing sons, her anger flaring.

Rokkun's chest tightened with guilt as he watched his boys cry. He wanted to apologize, but words failed him. "Go," Azula said, her voice low, dangerous, nodding toward the tent flap. "Sleep alone tonight."

With a frustrated huff, Rokkun turned and strode out, leaving Azula to soothe their children, the weight of their argument hanging heavy in the