Avatar: The Book Of The Phoenix

Unfinished Business

The midday sun beat down on Xanadu, its heat shimmering off the plains, casting a haze over the crimson-armored guards who escorted Team Avatar—Iroh, Toph, Sokka, Suki, Aang, Zuko, and Katara—into King Rokkun's massive, opulent tent. The structure loomed like a dragon's lair, its thick crimson fabric embroidered with fire motifs, exuding power and menace.
Inside, the air was heavy with the scent of incense and luxurious silks, a stark contrast to the war-torn plains outside.

King Rokkun sat at the head of a long, low table, his posture rigid, his copper hair loose and framing his scarred face. His amber eyes gleamed with a mix of grief and unyielding resolve. Beside him, Azula cradled a sleeping infant, Viszla, her golden eyes sharp yet softened by motherhood. Her eldest son, Sozin, clung to his father's side, mimicking Rokkun's stern posture. To Azula's right, Ozai, the disgraced Fire Lord, sat stoically, his gaze fixed on the floor, his once-imposing presence diminished but still radiating quiet menace.

"Ah, Zuzu," Azula greeted Zuko with a chilling smile, her voice a silken whisper laced with venom. "I don't believe I've formally introduced you to my sons, Sozin and Viszla."

Sozin, a miniature of his father with the same intense amber eyes, stared at Zuko with wide curiosity, his small hands clutching Rokkun's sleeve.

Sokka, however, shuddered, leaning toward Suki. "Eugh... little Azulas..." he muttered, earning an eye-roll from his fiancée.

"Sozin, say hello to your Uncle Zuzu," Azula commanded, her tone soft but unyielding.

"Zuzu..." Sozin repeated, his voice a shy whisper, barely audible over the tent's oppressive silence.

A rare smile touched Rokkun's lips, his charisma peeking through the tension. "Kid takes after his mother—sharp as a blade," he observed, easing the room's strain for a fleeting moment.

With a wave of his hand, Rokkun dismissed the servants attending the children. The tent fell into an uneasy silence, punctuated only by Viszla's rhythmic breathing and the distant clatter of armor outside.

"I'd like to thank you all for honoring my terms," Rokkun finally spoke, his voice low and dangerous, carrying the weight of a man balancing grief and ambition. "And for helping me find my children. Now that the traitor in our midst has been dealt with..." He paused, his gaze sweeping over Team Avatar, his eyes narrowing with suspicion, "...we can talk of peace."

Another silence, heavy as stone, settled over the group.

"Well, what is it you want?" Rokkun demanded, his impatience flaring, his fingers drumming on the table.

Zuko sighed, his scar taut with tension, his voice steady despite the weight of history. "I understand we have a difficult past, Rokkun. But I want this senseless conflict and rivalry to end. I believe we can find a solution that benefits both our peoples."

Aang scoffed, his usual calm fraying as he pointed at Ozai. "Why is he here? The Fire Lord who nearly destroyed the world?"

Rokkun chuckled, a low, rumbling sound, his grin sharp and mocking. "You see, Avatar, unlike your buddy Zuko, who stole the throne from his sister—my wife—I sought Ozai's blessing before claiming my crown. And besides," he added, his voice hardening, a protective edge surfacing, "with General Shoka gone, my boys need a grandfather. Not that you'd understand family loyalty, kid."

Aang felt a surge of anger, his staff trembling in his grip, but he bit back his retort, knowing it would only escalate the tension.
The meeting had barely begun, and already the air crackled with unspoken threats.

Zuko bristled, his patience thinning. "You trespassed into my lands illegally, murdered my men, and freed a known criminal," he announced, his voice laced with contempt, his hands sparking faintly with suppressed fire.