IRKO WEEK
PRECIOUS
Ember Island had been the scene of many a happy time for Iroh. He had spent lazy summer days there with his wife, Reku, and a very young Lu Ten. But then Reku had died; Lu Ten was only six years old. How precious those hours spent with his little family were. He hadn't realized it then, the fleetingness of life, how quickly someone you love could be cruelly taken away. It was a difficult lesson, one that was reinforced when Iroh's much loved son died at a mere eighteen. He was on the battlefield, while Iroh, the great general, directed movements from his tent outside the imposing outer wall of Ba Sing Se.
A messenger ran into the tent, bowed perfunctorily and then handed Iroh a scroll. His nephew's broken body lay inside the healing tent. The general ran across the open plain, heedless of dropping rocks, only wanting to see his son's face for the last time until he finally joined him in the spirit world. He held Lu Ten's hand and stroked the disheveled hair from his forehead. He whispered choked words of goodbye and then ordered the young man's body burned on a makeshift pyre as was Fire Nation tradition. There was no time to send the body home and Iroh was not ready to return just yet. He was, however, ready to leave the military and make a journey of his own. That journey took him to the spirit world where he came to understand much about life and death.
Now, he was back at Ember Island with another little family, making more sweet memories. His nephew, the Fire Lord, was now 23 years old and married to Mai, the only girl he ever had eyes for. They had two small children of their own, a three year old daughter and a newborn son. Iroh sat on the beach with little Keiko, helping her to build a very lopsided sandcastle. She snuggled happily with her great uncle and laughed joyfully when he tickled her.
Zuko looked over at the pair from his spot under the umbrella where he sat with Mai and baby Roku. He smiled contentedly. The Fire Lord was grateful that his children had Iroh in their lives. They could enjoy time with their great uncle, just like he had when he was a little boy. Zuko recalled shell collecting and digging the deepest holes they could in the sand, playing in the warm sea and watching the sunset perched on Iroh's lap with his cousin Lu Ten beside them. Those memories occupied a very special spot in Zuko's mind; they were precious.
Iroh stood up with Keiko, held her tiny warm hand and said, "Let's go see your mommy and daddy."
They walked the short distance and sprawled beside the Fire Lord and his wife, who held Roku in her arms.
"May I take him?" Iroh asked Mai.
"Sure," she replied. "My arms are starting to get tired."
Iroh took the infant and looked down into his golden eyes, so much like his father's.
"You and your sister are very precious," he said, rubbing Roku's belly gently, "as are your mother and father."
Everyone was silent for a few moments, seeming to ponder Iroh's words.
Keiko broke the quiet. "Guess what Uncle Iroh? You're precious too."
Zuko pulled his daughter close, and kissed the top of her head. "Yes, Keiko, he certainly is."
