milliways_bar | (no subject)

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There is a maimed prince with a whole VERITABLE STACK of books, note pads, and a couple of scrolls with him on the table. There is also a slender case on the table, which holds a flute inside. He has gone through two parts of ginseng tea and thus, remains both busy and rather energizeed.

Zuko has been busy, it seems, and he has not had and entrance post in some time, so here he is -- please, come and ask about the several projects that keep the prince from going insane while he waits for the door to appear.

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"Oh, a legion of bloodthirsty sycophants who treat our own troops like chattle, my darling sister who is his pride and joy..."

If the bitterness got anymore acidic, it would sizzle past his lips and burn holes in the table.

"But we hold a great deal of Earth Kingdom land, and have made sure the Southern tribe is no threat. Just this last ten years our campaign left them in abject ruin. Rumor has it all their men -- well, those that were left -- went to join the Earth Kingdom fight."

The venom speaks well for the young man in Wells' book. He nods once, curtly. "Tell me something," he says at last. "What started your people on this campaign, anyway? One particular ruler, or some such? It's not often that you get someone who sets out to conquer the whole bloody world and actually has the balls to see it through this far."

"A hundred years previous," Zuko explains, "my great-grandfather, Fird Lord Sozen, unified the Fire Nation; a comet was seen, and the Avatar had not appeared. So he announced that this was a sign, that since our people had been the last to have an Avatar, since the comet trailed fire in the sky... that we were destined to be the superior element, that all should bow to our rule."

"I see," says Wells. "I suppose an omen's as good as any reason, if you've got the actual might to back you up. God knows there've been wars started on less provocation in the past."

There's a pause.

"Ought I to ask what you think of all this, or am I tap-dancing on a land mine already?"

"What I think doesn't matter," Zuko says with bleak finality. "I am an exile, with claim to no land."

"I wasn't askin' whether it mattered or not," Wells says tartly. "A man can have an opinion of the Queen whether she knows he exists or not. I was wondering what you thought of this, that's all."

"I think my Father is a fool," Zuko says simply. "And that the world will never bend knee to him."

"Hnh."

He reaches for his tea.

"Just might be hope for you after all."

Zuko snorts, hot air accompanying.

"Hrmpgh. Zhao said that years at sea had hardly taught me to temper my tongue. I think he would have been most pelased with my display of control there," hee says, and takes up his own cup of tea.

"I wasn't talkin' about your tone, I was talkin' about what you said," Wells shoots back. "No offense, mate, but in several thousand years of my world's history there's never yet been a successful world conqueror no matter how hard anyone's tried. Something out of their control always gets 'em in the end- I'm not talking about any Avatar here, we don't have that kind of shit in my world. I'm talking little things no one saw coming. A fever in Babylon, an invasion in winter, exiling the crown prince, going off on a side tear about racial purity... the world never bends, not entirely, and there's always one last bit that slips in the chinks in the conqueror's armour and sends him sprawling. Best to do right by your own people, where you can."

Zuko frowns a little, and then says, "I know what you meant -- and I heed yuor words about history. But -- merely, it was my tongue that got me exiled in the first place. Some of the very words you laud."

He shrugs, and then says, "I -- " He pauses, and then shakes it off. "Never mind it, Sergent. Merely old thoughts."

"Ah," says Wells.

He's thinking of the First Emperor, here. He knows a little bit of Chinese history- the important bits, with big military movements in, mostly. So there are exiles in there, and false pretences, and eventual madness, and a dynasty that was supposed to last for centuries lasted less than fifteen.

"I wasn't aware of that. It's a pity." A bit of a smile crosses his face. "Never let it be said that I wasted anyone's time kicking old shit to the surface when it didn't need to be stirred. I won't trouble you with it again."

"It's nothing you should trouble yourself over," Zuko tries to forgive the man his slight, but Wells will punish himself more then Zuko will. "I'll set it to rights as soon as the Door gives me leave to try," He assures the other man.

"I wish you luck in it, then," Wells says sincerely.

A pause. Something of a long one.

"And whatever aid I can give, such as that might be."

Zuko shakes his head, sharply. "No. Nothing from this place -- nothing will I take with me."

He can't be weak. He has to do it on his own. He has to prove to them all that he could be strong, that he was worthy, that he wasn't a shame.

He was no coward.

"I wasn't thinking of that," Wells says. "Your world's a bit too different from mine. I'd be a millstone 'round your neck, I reckon. I was thinking more of anything I could do here that might prove of assistance later."

He's already been to one other world, and while he did the job he set out to do, the way it got done... brrr. Best not to inflict that on Zuko's world.

Wise of him. Zuko nods; yes, it would be difficult... and he can't imagine a father approving of what he was set out to do.

To take a child away.

"Just -- be here. If you can be."

When he comes back. So he has something to come back to.

"If I can," says Wells, "I will. I promise."

He holds out a hand at that.

A warm grip is offered it; warm as in temperature mostly, but still, it's strong. "Good enough," he says simply, and accepts it at that.

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