Disclaimer: All recognizable characters, places, plots, (etc...) belong to their respective creators (that is, Avatar: The Last Airbender to its creators ands Nicolodean). This is a work of fan-fiction (FOR fans BY fans) and no profit is made.

Italics indicate flashback scenes.

Sorting the Skeins

by Absenthe Rae

One: In Which Zuko Faints like a Girl

"You did the right thing in letting the Avatar's sky-bison go." Iroh said, turning to close the door behind him. This was the type of encouragement Zuko needed to hear right now, the encouragement he craved more than anything else, albeit not from his uncle Iroh.

Zuko did not respond. When Iroh turned away from the door Zuko was swaying and mumbling "...don't feel right..." and crashing towards the floor.

"Zuko!" Iroh cried, rushing to catch him as he fell. He didn't quite make it, but Zuko had partially broken his fall by leaning against a small table, knocking over a vase, and falling to the floor from there. Iroh lifted him onto his lap, turning him onto his back. The boy was in a faint, breathing slowly but breathing still. Iroh felt his forehead with the back of his hand. There was fever starting there; it was not high yet, but Iroh could feel it rising, could sense heat emanating from a spot just behind Zuko's left cheek bone where skin turned into scar.

"Well... this is no good..."

First things first, Iroh thought to himself, getting the boy comfortable. He brought Zuko into his bedroom, lifting him bridal-style in a way which if Zuko were conscious he would be most offended by. Iroh set Zuko down on his sleeping pallet and began to undress him. Oh yes, his nephew would be most upset by this. But Iroh had to check him over – if the fever were sourced in a wound it would have to be treated. However, a visual once-over and a laying of fire-bender hands to sense for spots of high-heat yielded nothing. Actually, Zuko's hands and feet were rather cool, despite his rising core temperature.

Iroh slipped Zuko into some comfortable sleeping pants and pulled the blankets from under him so as to lay them over. That was when he noticed something – a red mark on Zuko's neck. Could it be a hickey, Iroh thought, grinning to himself. On closer inspection he determined it to be an insect bite... that was worrying, were there poisonous spiders in Ba Sing Se? He didn't remember. Iroh let his hands linger over the bite, sensing for unnatural heat that would be under the bite were it poisoned, but he felt nothing. It was probably a regular mosquito-fly bite, there were plenty swarming around Lake Lagoai. Too bad. Iroh had hoped it to be a hickey, had hoped his nephew was doing the sort of normal things teenaged boys did. When Lu Ten had been Zuko's age he had already been slinking around with tittering young ladies. What a rascal he'd been in that way...

Iroh tucked Zuko in and went out to fetch a bucket of water from the well – normally he would pour it out of the large pitcher just outside of their door, but he wanted it cool and he knew that unless it was boiled the water in the pitcher could carry diseases; big cities like Ba Sing Se were far worse for that kind of thing, and with Zuko already sick he didn't want to risk it.

When Iroh returned Zuko was fretting. Iroh fetched a cloth and basin for Zuko, brewed himself some tea, and settled down for a long night.

It was late morning when Zuko woke again, coughing weakly. "Uncle?"

"Hush Zuko, you have an intense fever. This will help to cool you." He pressed the cold cloth to Zuko's forehead again, keeping his sleeve away from the boy's face. Zuko closed his eyes and melted into the welcome coolness.

Iroh did not go to work at the teashop that day, not that it mattered since they would have their own shop in a few week's time. He sent word that Zuko was very sick and needed to be cared for and that neither of them would be there for a couple of days. Word came back that they needn't come back ever again. Iroh sighed and shook his head. That was bitter! Or else they didn't want to believe him, which was reasonable as he was leaving for his own shop soon and had preparations to do there also and neither himself nor Zuko had been sick a day since arriving in Ba Sing Se. The boy was usually strong and healthy, though he hadn't been as a child. This wasn't the first time Iroh had nursed his nephew through a fever.

Iroh was walking and chatting with a young guard (that is, he was dispatching romantic advice) in the autumnal gardens of the palace when he was approached by Ursa, Ozai's wife.

"Iroh?"

"Yes?"

"Zuko's sick. It looks like the same thing you and Lu Ten had when you got back from the Eastern Marshes. Can you come look at him?"

"Certainly."

Then to the guard, "This sounds urgent, we must part. Don't worry, she'll come around."

Iroh followed Ursa through the palace at a brisk pace, arriving eventually at Zuko's room. Azula was lurking in the hall, peering through a cracked screen door.

"Azula!" Ursa said, "I told you to not bother your brother. He's sick and may be contagious."

"I bet he's faking it."

"He certainly is not. Go along now. I need you to stay out of our hair."

"Fine." she huffed and walked off, leaving Iroh and Ursa to enter the room where Zuko was lying on his large bed, an intricate and decadently expensive fire nation tapestry hanging above. Ursa sat on the edge of the bed and began to stroke Zuko's hair. He was eight years old, or thereabouts, and not yet wearing the topknot.

"He has a fever and has been vomiting." Ursa explained.

"Lower his collar, I need to see his neck and chest."

"Mother?" Zuko stirred, "Who's there?"

"Hush Zuko, your uncle Iroh is here to see you. We need to look at you."

Ursa pulled down the blankets and untied Zuko's robe, baring him to the waist. The child was compliant with fever and blearily allowed this. Across his collar area in a V-shape was a spotty red rash, the skin there raised in little red bumps.

Iroh ran his hands just above the rash, sensing the heat radiating from under it. He sighed heavily. "I'm afraid you're right Ursa, this looks like marsh fever. I am sorry for bringing this home to the palace, it must be more contagious than I initially thought."

"So we must keep the other children out of his room."

"Yes. You should stay out of here as well, Ozai would not forgive me if I got his wife ill also."

"Who will tend him then? I would rather not leave him to maid servants and healers, skilled though they may be."

"Lu Ten and I will nurse him. We have both suffered this before and so are immune."

"I would be most indebted to you." Ursa bowed.

"It is nothing, we brought this illness home from our campaign." Iroh bowed his head as well.

"Zuko?" The boy had been drifting off again, but opened his eyes when his mother spoke, "Your uncle Iroh and cousin Lu Ten are going to be looking after you because your sickness can spread to people who haven't had it before, but don't worry, they'll take good care of you."

"You mean I get to spend all day playing with cousin Lu Ten?"

"Once you're feeling better, yes."

"I look forward to it." Zuko yawned and snuggled back into his thick blankets, allowing his mother to tuck him in.

"Get better little one." Ursa kissed his forehead and Zuko's eyes shut.

"Now," Iroh said to Ursa, "go put your clothes in the wash and take a hot bath. Do not worry about Zuko dear, he is in good hands. I raised Lu Ten myself after all."

"Still, thank you."

"Oh, and send a healer this way as well please. And some jasmine tea for me."

"Certainly." A smile ghosted across Ursa's lips. She squeezed Zuko's hand and then left.

Now, where was Lu Ten... probably off with that serving girl he was all mouse-doe-eyed on... Lu Ten and his girlfriends! Iroh sighed. He would have to give that boy a talk about sowing wild oats.

Iroh came out of his daytime reverie and rewet the cloth on Zuko's forehead. The boy stirred, his eyes opening to narrow slits. He sat up, dazed and hoarse, "What's going on."

"You have a high fever. Stay under the covers and sweat it out."

"So... thirsty..."

Remembering the bucket of water he had fetched, Iroh gave Zuko a full ladle. "Here is some clean water to drink."

Zuko drank thirstily, and then tossed the ladle aside and lifted the entire bucket to his lips, drinking even as he spilled most of it onto his bed covers. He curled up back in the damp bed coughing. This was looking worse – Iroh did not like the sound of the cough, deep and chesty, though surprisingly soft, as if he did not have enough air in his lungs. If Zuko had another night like the last he would fetch a healer the following day.