*Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: the Last Airbender. So sad, too bad.
*Fic shout-out: Check out "Stormbenders" by Fandomme. I consider it as the canon-that-would-have-been-the-greatest-thing-ever -if-it-was-canon. I swear, if wishes were horses...
*Advisement: Listen to Tawgs Salter's "Brave" while reading...
I think I'll be brave, Starting with you, But I'll fall away if you tell me to…So lonely, too lonely
It takes less than three days for Iroh to love Katara. It is not a tempered love, a tried love, for Iroh still tries very hard not to measure his obedience to his Father against his affection for a little girl. Instead, he chooses to measure the span of time in Katara's smile—initially, infinitesimal, but the fleeting span of seconds grows with each rising day. Her smiles carry the free forgiveness of a child; all smiles reserved solely for the wan mother, who lingers as a shadow near Lu Ten, but it is Iroh who pockets the unclaimed smiles.
Those three days are spent in the finest, unspoiled rooms of the remnants of the Earth King's Palace. The room is yet tiled with green glass, but the walls are newly trimmed with the image of home in red and gold silks. Immediately, Katara is monitored by his personal physician, a man known for his gentle demeanor. Her ribs are soon taped and she is given instructions to restrict her movements to the cushioned settee for the next two days. The physician's gaze turns to the mother—Kaya, Iroh later learns, though he learns the name not from her lips but from his son's—and he diagnoses that she is suffering from an acute psychological trauma. Lu Ten immediately spirits her away to the finest health spas Ba Sing Se still has to offer, while Katara is restricted to the chambers.
Seeing her lone, small blue form surrounded by foreign materials and colors, Iroh pities her. He orders that Katara be supplied with packets of ice and chilled glasses of sweet tamarind (both a true rarity in the heart of the Earth Kingdom, let alone a war zone, but Iroh is a well-seasoned expert of cost vs. worth—the sweet tamarind is not only enjoyed but relished, and Iroh feels the richer for it). Iroh continually plies her with dishes of egg custard, ginger tarts, and candied papaya, in hopes that such treats will stave off both the impending boredom and any residual fear of her surroundings. The obstinance of a child, Iroh relearns, is not to be underestimated—Katara accepts the dishes, but remains mute.
Thus, Iroh talks for the both of them. He declares to his lieutenants that he is suffering an elephantine hangover from the victory party, involving an obscene amount of jasmine tea, fire whisky, and cactus extract, and thus, should not be disturbed unless there is an ambush from the Dai-Li (a prospect that gets unlikelier every day). Free from his political obligations, Iroh is free to sit on a cushion opposite his blue-eyed obligation and talk. He plans his one-sided conversations with strategic importance, recounting stories that would first intrigue: lore of peasant-heroes, of great wish-granting fishes, and of ferocious, master-dragons with unquestionable wisdom. He then tells her tales to shock a reaction: what particularly racy jokes his tailor told to him that day, the best bargain he ever shopped (a pair of ruby jaguar totems), gentle, harmless secrets about himself—how he prefers jasmine tea best but ginseng eases his stomach; he talks and talks and talks until he is certain Katara must be as sick of not talking as she must be of listening. He is mid-sentence describing the economic growth of an industry which he's forgotten on an island he cannot name, when Katara speaks.
Rusty from disuse, it is more of a rasp than a voice, and Iroh has to strain forward to hear it. "I like the papaya—the papaya chips? I like it. Could I have some more?"
Iroh stumbles to not look so surprised, but frowns inwardly. By her expression when she had tried them, he had surmised that she had not enjoyed the candied sweet. He had instructed the cooks not to prepare any more, but this was her request—"Of course, little Waterbender. You may have some more." Under the stillness of Katara's blue eyes, he summons a servant to bring a small tray of the candied papaya, and additionally to bring one at each meal.
Her "thank you" is so quiet it is almost lost in the scuffle of requests. Almost. And Iroh was pleased at this victory, as he knows it is no small victory to win against a stubborn child, as it is no small victory to win against a stubborn earth wall, and contemplates what he imagines the child will say when the tray arrives. The trays are brought, and he looks over to Katara to find her sprawled over the settee in what would appear to be the deepest of sleeps, if it were not for the roughness of the breathing and her too-tightly pinched eyes. That, Iroh concluded, was her indication that it was time for him to leave. Indulgently, Iroh smiled, called out a "Good night, little Waterbender", and left to attend to the myriad of duties he had been neglecting as a general.
The morning of the second day, he returns to find Katara mute as ever, despite the empty, sugar-dusted trays. He has had his experience with stalemates, however, so he claims his cushion and proceeds to play the sungi horn very badly. Katara's face grows gradually pinched, and Iroh is mentally congratulating himself when he sees her open her mouth once more, when Lu Ten wearily enters the room and sprawls across his settee. Seeing Lu Ten without his blue shadow is disconcerting; more so is the lines of worry that have crossed his face.
"We just saw the physician again, Father," he whispers. "Kaya still won't eat."
Iroh's gaze swings from his son to Katara, expecting the words to cause distress. But the waterbender's face is smooth, placid as glass, with eyes lowered to her hands as she quietly orders another plate of the candied papaya.
Later that night, as the moon gradually slivers into dawn, Iroh does not sleep, but ponders fitfully. He has received a summons from his Father, for "himself and his household to answer to the Lord of the Nation of Fire". Rumors fly fast, Iroh knows, but these flew faster than he was prepared for. He needed more time, more time than for his time with the waterbender to have been more than a mere pleasant respite, for although she is charming in her stubborness, Iroh's affections and loyalties are not won by mere charm. His father has summoned him to his homeland, and there there will be a price to pay for Katara—but is he willing to pay that price?
Darkly, he fears he is not.
Admitting this to himself is no great confession, rather it is a thousand small doubts that hook themselves into his brain like flaccid worms, and Iroh knows he is the lesser for it. But to do otherwise would be risking a sin against his Father and country—a, a banishment from all he loves, and how could he possibly, possibly, face that? He cannot, and so cannot face his Father's reckoning. He prepares himself for the confrontation he will surely have with his son, but he has seen the growing thinness of Kaya the Water-Tribe Woman, and he has seen too many war widows fade to corpses to believe that this outcome will be different. It is naught but a sad, bitter truth, but Iroh squares his shoulders to face this truth headlong. His son, he believes, will eventually see likewise.
Decision made, Iroh awaits a slumber that does not come, though his doubts do. He shrugs off his coverlet and takes to walking the halls, shrugging off his guards. He pauses before the entrance to the room where mother and daughter sleep; he enters.
He sees daughter embracing mother, her narrow shoulders supporting the wealth of the mother's weight, hair falling forward like a sheltering curtain. Mother clings to daughter. An eye of the storm, Iroh thinks, seeing the two blue forms coalesce against the isolation of the moonlit room. He sees a small brown hand lift chips of sugared fruit to a weakened mother's lips, weaning her on small golden delights. It is a moment that Iroh privately attests to as being truly sacred—an absolute testament of loyalty, of family, of love—it speaks ofsustenance, complete and filling. It humbles him like nothing he has never known.
And just like that—less than three days.
In those moments backlit by the blue of moonlight, Iroh recants his decision. He still refrains from making the crucial decision—a father's love against a child's life—but instead he embarks on a plan to embrace the two.
Iroh returns to his room and pens a scroll conveying his testament of his loyalty for his father and his nation, and bearing news of the blessed additions to his household. He writes that he anxiously awaits his father's blessing, and sends the scroll by the fastest message hawk he owns. He and his house will arrive in his homeland in three weeks.
He will, he thinks, introduce his nephew to Katara.
*Please tell me what you thought of this chapter! Next chapter—the journey to the Fire Nation and backstory on Hakoda and Sokka. Thank you!
*Responses to the commends made:
Sesshomaru-sama's lover—Um…sorry it took me so long. Next one will be much sooner, promise! Thank you for reviewing.
Guest 2—Thank you for what you said about reviews—I truly appreciated it, so thank you, thank you.
Being Who I Wish I Was—Thank you so much! I WILL post more often.
Konoha Kid—Thank you for the compliment! Will do!
Guest 1—oops! Sorry for taking so long, will be much better, promise!
Nightmarish—Kaya speaks next chapter—she is such a strong and fascinating woman, but she is under SO much stress—particularly with about what happened to Hakoda and Sokka. I'm glad you brought up her strong characterization—it gave me a lot to think about. Next chap!
ArrayePL—News of Hakoda and Sokka next chapter! Don't worry, I would never forget my Sokka!
Greader—I plan to incorporate some interesting Ursa-Katara relations, which Azula will blame for Katara for. I hope you'll like them!
ZutaraFanFE—Thank you! I'll do my best to keep posting!
Turion—I am very glad you mentioned the Lu Ten/Kaya relations and an equally benevolent/warrior Iroh. I'll address them next chapter. Thank you!