Summary - Muren Yang is a reclusive koalasheep herder living on the Island of Black Cliffs. Her pastoral life is disrupted when an accident forces her to seek work elsewhere, and she becomes the employee of the once great General Iroh. Muren finds herself growing attached to the retired general turned teashop owner, but the budding romance is ended when Iroh is called on to fight a subversive new enemy to the Fire Nation. When Muren finally reveals her feelings to the man she loves, a secret threatens to destroy everything.
Rating - T
Disclamer - I do not own any of the people, places, or concepts from Avatar the Last Airbender. I do, however, own this derivative work.
oOo
Muren's stomach rumbled. She scowled and ignored it. It churned. She shifted uncomfortably and thought full thoughts at it. It gave a whimpering plea for food, and she hung her head in defeat.
She would have to go hunting if she didn't want to starve. She mentally gathered her courage. Hunting boarcupines, the only creature on the island worth eating, was a dangerous game. She glanced at Shiro and Kuro, who were sleeping on the floor. Without them, it would have been an impossible game. Pandadogs were bred for tending koalasheep, but Shiro and Kuro could keep adult boarcupines at bay while she hunted the younger, more easily dispatched boarcupettes.
Once, the thought of eating little baby boarcupettes had made her sick; but that had changed after seeing the damage a full grown boarcupine could do to a flock of koalasheep. She and Grandpa Shi had cleaned up the worst of it before Ursa could see (Ursa was ill and didn't need that kind of shock), and the experience had quashed any sympathy Muren might have carried for the beasts.
She retrieved her bow and arrows. She slung the quiver over her shoulder, not liking how light the burden was. Her supply of arrows was dwindling, only a handful remained. She had lost two more on her last outing – one broken, one lost in the shoulder of an escaping hog– and she didn't have the skill to make more. She hoped that she could afford more after selling the year's fleeces.
It was almost summer, time to start rooing the fleeces from the shedding koalasheep. She had a buyer on the mainland that would purchase the entire lot if they were in good shape. She could make more money selling them as spun wool or even finished garments, but since her grandparents had passed away she simply didn't have the time.
She checked the jar of tea leaves on the table to see if she needed to restock while she was out. She didn't particularly like tea, but Ursa had often told her that she must always keep tea for visitors. She nearly laughed at that. Muren had never had a single visitor to her humble little cottage. But she respected Lady Ursa's wisdom, and she kept her tea jar full.
The jar was nowhere near empty. So, time to visit the flock, then off to catch dinner. Hopefully.
"Shiro, Kuro. Ready?"
The sleeping pandadogs were awake and up in a breath, slipping past her and out the open door like silent, laughing shadows. She followed.
They went down faint paths, following a trail over and through the crumbling black rock formations that covered the island. It was possible to get lost on the interior of the island. But Muren had lived here for as long as she could remember, and it held no secrets from her.
There was even a hidden way down the cliffs to the secluded harbor. Grandma Liu and Grandpa Shi had used it every summer to take spun wool and bundles of knitwear to the market for trading. They kept a boat pulled up on the shore, well concealed amongst the rocks. Muren used it now in the same fashion. It was the only way off of the island, unless you were a wolfbat, or you had an airship.
Muren and the pandadogs climbed the rocks surrounding the southern pasture, where the flock would be foraging the grasses and wild herbs. There was only minimal need for fencing; crumbling gritstone formations naturally separated the grazing areas, and only a few small fences were needed to cover the gaps and keep the sheep safely on the interior of the island. She rotated the flock to the next enclosure every couple of weeks to keep from overgrazing.
She looked around the southern pasture and frowned. No sheep in sight.
Uh oh. Something must have happened to the fence, she thought. She knew the koalasheep couldn't climb the rocks, and the only fence on this pasture blocked them from accessing the outer edge of the island, where the sharp black cliffs plunged into the sea. Now she'd have to drive them all back. Energetic lambs had fallen from the black cliffs before. And I have to go back for fencing supplies too, she thought glumly. So much for dinner.
She was startled by an orange blast of fire that smoked into the distance, on the other side of the rock walls. She was stunned into immobility, irritation at her wayward sheep gone in an instant. Raiders. There were raiders on the island.
Last summer, she'd lost a large portion of her fleeces to raiders. They hadn't even taken the wool, just maliciously sheared it off and left it to be trampled into the ground. And she and Grandpa Shi had fought off bandits in the past that had mistaken the flock as wild, and didn't much care for the distinction after they were informed of their mistake.
Damn it, she couldn't afford this. She was already reduced to hunting boarcupine to keep up food supplies; without the income from the wool, she wouldn't manage through the winter. Bastards. Making a decision, she gripped her bow tight and took off at a run. Shiro and Kuro were growling and following her lead, crouched low and menacing.
She reached the broken fence just as her flock came bounding through the fallen slats, smelling of singed wool and wide eyed with terror. "Shiro, Kuro, guard!" she ordered, and the pandadogs split from her to round up the flock and scan for danger.
She slipped through the narrow alley of stone and peered cautiously around. Her eyes found two Fire Nation men, one old and one young. She was startled. She had expected her attackers to be more… robust. Maybe I can just scare them off, she thought.
She set her bow down on the ground and closed her eyes. She took in a deep, full breath, and planted her feet solidly.
She relaxed and let the sun's heat wash over her, warming her blood and filling her with energy. She blew her breath out in a steady stream, almost whistling. As she breathed, she brought her hands around in the forms Ursa had taught her, crafting delicate shapes in the air, gently bending the energy of the sun to separate the warmth from the light, releasing the heat and twisting the light to bounce back from things that weren't there. She felt the light settle into familiar patterns, and opened her eyes.
She closed her palms together to set the illusion, and then swept her hands in an arch, sending a life-size, illusory dragon swooping at the invaders. It was a special trick of the light, something Ursa had taught her the basics of and she had afterwards refined into this shining red monstrosity.
Both men looked up and saw the dragon, and she turned her creation, opened the giant red mouth, and crafted flames to fly out at them. She was counting on their courage failing before the flames could land; if she hit them head on then the game would be up. The illusion was light only.
They dodged, of course, and she turned the dragon. She wanted to make them run.
The younger man, really still a kid, she thought, was yelling at the dragon, trying to talk to it. It was not the response she'd been hoping for. She pulled the dragon into a dive above his head. He ducked and grabbed his companion, apparently giving up.
That older man was worrying her. He was not fleeing, did not even seem particularly frightened. He took a solid stance and she recognized it as preparation for a firebending attack. She sent a fake burst of flame at him, hoping to make him dodge again.
He sent his own firebeam back at her dragon. It was massive and bright, and it passed harmlessly through the dragon. She dropped the illusion as the dragon's flames passed with equal lack of effect through the old man.
Spirits damn it, she thought.
If it was only these two men, her sheep would be safe in the pasture with Shiro and Kuro. Her own safety took a backseat to an overwhelming sense of righteous indignation, and she scooped up a handful of heavy black stones from the ground. She ducked behind an outcropping closer to the two men, leaned out, and whipped a stone at the kid.
He yelped, and the sound filled her with satisfaction. Serves him right, she thought. What kind of punk takes pot shots at helpless animals? She threw two more at him and was happy to hear them smack flesh.
"Stop that," an older voice rumbled at her. "There's no need for this attack, please. Come out from there and let's talk."
Talk? Hah! She aimed and flung a rock at the old man. She heard it hit him and winced. Okay, maybe throwing rocks at someone's granddad was going a little beyond the pale. He laughed. It was a hearty, open belly laugh, and it was not the reaction she had expected.
"Are we going to play catch all day?" His voice seemed closer and she threw another rock at him, realizing he must have caught the first one and now trying to keep him at a distance. It dawned on her that she was unable to retreat without being seen, and she regretted dropping her bow. Smart, Muren. Real smart.
"If you would just explain why you are attacking us, maybe we can settle your mind."
She hesitated, holding back her next projectile. "You flamed my sheep!" she called out. It sounded more accusatory and less explanatory than she'd intended.
The kid's voice was raspy. "I didn't know they belonged to anyone. I'm sorry." She considered accepting this apology, until he added, "I mean, it's not like I actually hit the stupid things." Arrogant little punk, she thought, and resumed her assault.
"Hey, I said I'm sorry!"
"Fine, you're sorry." she snapped. "Now go away! Get out of here."
"We can't leave," he said. "We're looking for someone."
"Yeah, well, I'm the only one on this island. So go look somewhere else."
She was peeking out, another stone at the ready, and had just enough time to wonder where the old man had got to before a strong hand clamped onto her throwing arm. While she'd been talking to the kid, he'd gotten behind her. Her head spun with surprise and panic, and she twisted furiously in his grasp. He was short, not much taller than her, and he was a graybeard, but he was strong. He held her easily.
He smiled, the skin around his amber eyes crinkling into deep laugh lines. "I'm very sorry. I try not to manhandle young women as a general rule, but I think I have to make an exception in this case. By the way, you must tell me how you managed to create such a marvelous dragon."
She glared at him and didn't answer. The younger man approached. He was angry, his mouth pulled down in a scowl. He had a scar covering his left eye, and it added to the overall air of danger and tension that floated around him like a cloud.
"How did she create a dragon at all?" he asked, matching her glare for glare.
"Firebending, koala-brain," she said.
He clenched a fist, and she tightened her grip on the rocks she was still holding.
"You can't firebend something like that," he said.
Before she could think of a sufficiently insulting retort, the man holding her arm asked, "Can you refrain back from attacking us if I let you go? I think Fire Lord Zuko has had enough."
He released her, and Muren nearly choked.
"F…Fire Lord?" she forced out the question.
She finally, finally stopped and took in their clothes, the rich robes and, yes, the kid was wearing a royal topknot ornament. Fire Lord Zuko. Ruler of her nation. She remembered the incredible blast of fire the old man had sent at her dragon and felt a little faint, realizing just who she'd been chucking rocks at. The Dragon of the West. General Iroh.
"You're lying," she said, hopefully.
"I assure you, I'm not." General Iroh said, not without sympathy. He was still smiling that crinkle eyed smile at her, and it was creeping her out a little.
"Why would the Fire Lord flame my sheep?" she asked him pleadingly.
"The Fire Lord is standing right here," Fire Lord Zuko said, obviously irritated. She flushed.
"I'm sorry, my lord. I had no idea. I would never do this, I mean, if I'd known, of course, but how could I know? It's just that my sheep are all I've got anymore and when some punk," her eyes widened at his expression and she tried to fix it, "I mean, not some punk obviously but just someone that seems like a, um, well it's really no use trying to excuse it, sir, my lord, just that, oh…" She stopped, vaguely aware that if she kept going she might just evaporate from embarrassment.
"Look, it's fine," the young lord said gruffly. "Just don't throw any more rocks at me."
She nodded vigorously.
The General's smile became, if it was possible, even cheerier. "Now that that is settled, maybe you can help us with a little research we're doing." He winked at her.
"Yes, of course," she said, completely overwhelmed.
"We're searching for someone," Fire Lord Zuko said. "My mother, actually. Her name is Ursa. I know she had a maid who used to live on this island, and I was hoping maybe she would have some information about my mother."
All of Muren's tension solidified into a nasty knot in her stomach, and nausea climbed up her throat.
"Ursa?" she squeaked.
"Yes," the General replied. He was looking at her with a disconcerting shrewdness. "Her maid's name was Liu. Do you know her?"
"Um, yes. Yes. Liu is my grandmother. Was my grandmother," she corrected. "She passed away several years ago." She felt a momentary pang at the disappointment on Zuko's face, but pushed it aside. "She never mentioned anyone named Ursa, though…" she trailed off, noticing that the General was no longer smiling.
The young lord clenched a fist. "I was sure we'd find something here. It was our best lead." He cursed and turned away from them.
The General's eyes were narrowed and thoughtful. Muren wiped her hands on her dress and bit her lip. His scrutiny was very uncomfortable. She felt like he was looking through her and out the other side, seeing her faults lined up in a nice neat row for him to see. She nearly looked around behind her to check. She refrained through some effort of will and settled for fiddling with the strap of the quiver on her shoulder. When he spoke, she gave a little jump and dropped the quiver.
"I can think of many reasons why someone might lie about knowing Ursa's whereabouts. Perhaps you think we are planning to put her in prison for breaking her banishment. Maybe we are not really her family after all; we might be imposters, or bounty hunters. Yes, there are plenty of reasons to lie about such knowledge." He leaned in, almost conspiratorially. "But why would you lie so poorly?"
She blushed and felt angry for blushing. "I'm not lying." The Fire Lord was paying attention now, glancing between his uncle and Muren.
The General shook his head, sadly. "It is almost unfathomable that a child of Yang Liu could miss such an important lesson as lying convincingly." He caught her gaze, and she thought that he looked as sly as a gray foxcat. "But even more, I just can't understand how Lady Ursa could have been such a terrible teacher to you."
"Uncle? What do you mean?"
Muren's brain stuttered. "How did you know…?" She caught herself, putting a hand to her mouth. The old man's smile had returned, and it seemed irritatingly triumphant.
"Look, I'm not lying, you old bastard, so just leave me alone!" She hauled her quiver back onto her shoulder. She could feel what little composure she had left cracking away, and she wanted out of there before it dissolved completely.
"Wait! If you know my mother, why won't you just tell me? Do you know what happened to her?" Fire Lord Zuko laid a hand on her arm. She wavered, torn between duty and the desire to run away.
The angry sound of howls and sharp barks ended her indecision. Something was wrong with Shiro and Kuro.