Italics usually denote characters' thoughts. All scenes are taken from "The Cave of Two Lovers" and some were almost imperceptibly changed. Last time I checked, I didn't own A:TLA. It's always a possibility, though.
The pair of weary travelers made their way down an Earth Kingdom back road too far from anywhere to have a name. Their travel-stained clothes and meager possessions clearly identified them as refugees, and the enormous burn scar marking the younger's face would have told a casual observer that these two had had trouble with the Fire Nation. The scarred youth walked with a shuffling gait, as if his body were too heavy to properly move—ironic, seeing as the elderly man by his side easily handled his own generous form.
A master bender peeping through the thorn bushes at the two wanderers would have sworn that the old man's bouncing walk disguised the fluid balance of a firebending master. He would have been wrong; it was not a master, but the master, the Dragon of the West who was still loved by his men and feared by his enemies. Walking with him, of course, was none other than the banished heir to the Fire Nation throne, Prince Zuko. A very tired, petulant Prince Zuko.
"I didn't find anything to eat. I can't live like this. I wasn't meant to be a fugitive. This is impossible!"
Iroh suppressed a grin. The Air Nomads' way of life did not suit his nephew, but Zuko was always close enough to erupting without Iroh showing his amusement at the boy's frustration. Trust me, nephew, a little humility is good for the spirit. Ba Sing Se taught me that very well. I—
Suddenly, Iroh saw the opportunity he had been waiting nearly a week for. He quickly knelt down by the beautiful flower and made quite a show of studying it as Zuko came out of the brush he had been searching for food.
"Uncle, what are you doing?"
"You're looking at the rare White Dragon bush! Its leaves make a tea so delicious it's heartbreaking—that, or it's the White Jade Bush, which is poisonous." Or, just perhaps, it was actually a common variation of the Panda Lily. But what Zuko didn't know wouldn't hurt him.
"We need food, not tea. I'm going fishing."
Perfect. I was expecting to have to get rid of him. I can't believe my nephew just made something easier for me. I wonder if he's ill.
Iroh began muttering for Zuko's benefit as he stalked off. "Hmm. Delectable tea? Or deadly poison?"
The former general gazed after the vanished prince. Plucking the flower and tossing it where it would be hidden in the undergrowth, Iroh began to sift quietly through the forest with an expert eye which recognized every plant. At last, he found what he was looking for: Reka weed, a member of that class of plants that, not satisfied to cause relentless itching and a terrible rash, grows in abundance and strangles out other plants. Gathering up a few handfuls of the leaves and rubbing them all over his body, Iroh made his way back to the clearing to wait.
"Zuko, remember that plant I thought might be tea?"
"You didn't."
"I did. And it wasn't."
Zuko recoiled from his uncle's rash covered body with equal parts worry and disgust, exactly the reaction Iroh had wanted. Still, it never hurt to add a little extra incentive.
"When the rash spreads to my throat, I will stop breathing." Three years had given Iroh an ability to generally know what his nephew was thinking, a talent which annoyed the latter to no end. He's probably going to ask if there is some natural cure. I might as well crush that hope.
"But look what I found! These are Bacui berries. Known to cure the poison of the White Jade plant! That or Maka'ole berries that cause blindness."
Zuko wrenched the branch of berries his uncle was holding out with an understandable amount of impatience.
"We're not taking any more chances with these plants. We need to get help." He tossed the berries away with such irritation that Iroh found it hard not to chuckle at his own ruse.
"But where are we going to go? We're enemies of the Earth Kingdom and fugitives from the Fire Nation," asked Iroh.
It would be simpler to suggest we return to the village we passed through yesterday. Easier, too, with anyone but Zuko. It had taken Iroh almost a year to learn that his nephew would not be commanded, bullied, or swayed by open requests when he had made up his mind. If anything, the boy was incredibly tenacious, especially when looking out for people he saw himself as responsible for. If he thought turning himself in would save his uncle, he would do it in an instant. I can't command him. But I can guide him.
Zuko turned over the possibilities and risks, though he knew there was only one real option. "If the Earth Kingdom discovers us, they'll have us killed."
"But if the Fire Nation discovers us, we'll be turned over to Azula."
"Earth Kingdom it is."
All in all, Iroh was feeling rather satisfied with his work. Although he quite enjoyed the time he spent alone with Zuko, every second spent wandering a foreign nation with few prospects and fewer hot meals only fed the bitterness the prince liked to hold onto so hard. Being exposed to the kindness and charity of strangers devastated by his family's "honorable" war would not be a comfortable experience for him, but then, challenges to a very safe worldview were hardly ever relaxing.
Not only that, but he gets to meet some girls! Iroh gave an inward smirk as the girl, Song, he thought her name was, glanced back once more at Zuko when she thought no one was looking.
The girl broke into his thoughts. "You two must not be from around here. We know better than to touch the White Jade—much less make it into tea and drink it."
"Heh, heh, whoops."
Song spoke again, trying to get his nephew to start talking. "So where are you traveling from?"
"Yes, we're travelers." Smooth move, nephew. Three years isolated on a ship have not done much for your conversational skills.
"Do you have names?"
"Names? Of course we have names!" Iroh tried not to wince with moderate success. Luckily, Song couldn't be paying less attention to the person whose back she was currently rubbing with lotion. She was far too busy sending Zuko coy glances which he missed with a blindness no eye scar could possibly account for.
"I'm…Lee, this is my uncle, uh, Mushi!" Uncle gave Zuko a glare that promised words later. Mushi was what Azula had called him when she was younger. He had almost been flattered at first that she had bothered to look up the archaic expression for "bumbling oaf." In retribution, Iroh decided to indulge himself in a small game of bait-the-prince.
"Yes. My nephew was named after his father, so we just call him Junior."
Song now directed her speech towards the elder traveler. "Mushi and Junior, huh? My name is Song. You two look like you could use a good meal. Why don't you stay for dinner?" Oh, that girl knows exactly what she's doing. Well played.
"Sorry, but we need to be moving on." Zuko's voice was flat with defeat; he knew what was coming.
"That's too bad. My mom always makes too much roast duck."
Iroh gratefully took the opportunity he had been offered. "Where do you live exactly?"
Song's mother had turned out to be as kind-hearted a woman as her daughter. And the good looks run in the family. If I were ten years younger…or maybe twenty…or thirty.
"My daughter tells me you're refugees. We were once refugees ourselves." Iroh's small smile faded away. This was wading into dangerous territory.
"When I was a little girl, the Fire Nation raided our farming village. All the men were taken away." Oh no, please don't bring up your— "That was the last time I saw my father." I suppose that was too much to ask.
"I haven't seen my father in many years," Zuko said quietly. Iroh considered breaking in and changing the topic, but the obvious diversion would only agitate his nephew.
"Oh. Is he fighting in the war?" Song's eyes were full of a sympathy Iroh was glad Zuko did not see. The boy would never abide by anyone's pity.
"Yeah."
His nephew passed the rest of the dinner in silence.
Zuko gave a sigh of relief at being alone outside Song's house. He'd thankfully been able to escape Uncle's thousandth iteration of that ancient tea joke. (His voice rang out from inside—"Leaf me alone, I'm bushed," and laughter followed. How did people find that funny?) He closed his eyes and began to meditate. Or brood, as Uncle might say. His eyes flicked open as he heard the door open and quiet steps came toward him.
Song's voice was gentle, as if she were addressing some kind of wounded animal. "Can I join you?" He imperceptibly gritted his teeth. I wonder what she'd say if I asked if I had a choice? But he didn't.
"I know what you've been through. We've all been through it." Have you really? Zuko didn't open his mouth. If he did, all the bitterness and anger that had been building up for months would come rushing out on this poor girl who had fed him and saved Uncle's life. But his thoughts carried the baggage of three years' anguish. What exactly would you know of fighting the entire world to build your life from scratch? What would you know about carrying around the token of the worst day of your life on your body?
"The Fire Nation has hurt you. It's okay. They hurt me too." She showed him her scar. His thoughts ground to a halt. It was the kind of scar that was distinctive to the fire-whips favored by many of the more elite raiding forces. It looked older than his, years older. She couldn't have been more the ten years of age when she got it. Some soldier had thought it would be fun to brand a little child.
I've…never realized how many other people my father has scarred.
It was not a happy thought.
"Thank you for the duck. It was excellent." Iroh cast another look as his nephew as he bowed. What had the girl said to make him look so troubled?
"You're welcome. It brings me joy to see someone eat my cooking with such…gusto."
"Much practice.—Junior, where are your manners? You need to thank these nice people." Iroh watched carefully to see how Zuko would react to a small rebuke like that.
"—Thank you." So. He was doing what he usually did. Keeping his feelings under absolute control, and showing nothing to his uncle or anyone else. The prince began to silently walk away, and the young girl shouted after his retreating form.
"I know you don't think there's any hope left in the world, but there is hope. The Avatar has returned." The former general's jaw tightened. Song had spoken with pure intentions, but Azula herself couldn't have come up with a better sentence to make Zuko explode.
The prince's response was quiet. "I know." Perhaps he is not angry. Perhaps...he is confused.
Iroh turned as his nephew sneaked over to the family's ostrich-horse and began to untie its lead. Dismay swept over for him. For someone with as much pride as Zuko, this was not a good sign. Not for the first time, Iroh feared he had done more harm than good by exposing his nephew to the misery his family had caused for a century.
"What are you doing? These people just showed you great kindness."
His nephew's face was stone, completely unmoving and determined. "They're about to show us a little more kindness. Well?" He held out his hand for his uncle. Iroh would not win. This time. He took Zuko's hand and got up behind his nephew. Even with three years and an ocean between them, Ozai will still not remove his claws from Zuko.
Mark my words, brother. I will never give up. Not on Zuko. If it takes the rest of my life, I will show him that which you have always obscured. You will see. In the end, he will be my son, not yours. I swear it.
Obviously, the point for Mike and Bryan of having Iroh drink poison tea in the episode was to get an excuse for two enemies of the Earth Kingdom to go into a town and be exposed to other victims of the Fire Nation, as I imagine developing Zuko's character is difficult when he's just wandering through the wilderness. I went a step farther and made the poison a ploy of Iroh's to help convert his nephew to the side of goodness, righteousness, and less angst. Gotta love that Iroh.
This is only my second published work, so reviews are very much appreciated.