Author's note: I know the common tropes about mismatched eyes, but no, the baby isn't half-Water Tribe, or a shapeshifter, or anything else of a supernatural/dual nature. He's just got mismatched eyes; a condition called complete heterochromia iridis. More common in cats and dogs than people, but it does pop up occasionally, and when it does it usually takes the form of one blue eye. Sorry if anyone's disappointed already!
Chapter 2: Named
Zuko had been told by his father more than once while growing up that his sister Azula had been born lucky, but he'd been lucky to be born. He didn't know all the details of his birth, but he knew it had been long and hard and there had been many doubts that either he or his mother would survive; that he'd been born so weak that for nearly a full month after his birth, the servants had kept a funeral shroud and pyre ready to receive a tiny corpse.
Zuko didn't like to remember the tone of his father's voice when the funeral pyre had been mentioned. Father had sounded almost… disappointed that it hadn't been used after all. As if the spirits had kept Zuko alive solely for the purpose of messing with his royal father.
Which was all ashes, of course; the spirits had no interest in messing with his father, because Zuko himself was clearly their favorite toy. They took delight in batting his whole life around like a pygmy-puma with a ball of string. His little sister had begun firebending before he did, and turned out to be a prodigy, getting all his father's attention. His mother had vanished (died?) after… doing what she'd had to do to save him from being killed, after his grandfather had-had gone insane with grief. One moment of outraged protest in a war room had resulted in him being burned by his father and banished from his homeland.
And now he had proof that the spirits liked to mess with him. Proof in the form of a baby boy that the spirits expected him to adopt as his own… and worse, so did his uncle! Just because the baby had mismatched eyes. As if having eyes of two different colors was anything at all like being branded with a mark of shame for disrespect, and cowardice in the Agni Kai arena.
No doubt about it; this was a sign that the Avatar having beaten and escaped from him twice already wasn't good enough for the spirits, and now they wanted to really see him suffer. Cold ashes, it just wasn't fair…
He looked down at the baby sleeping in his arms, and sighed as he considered that the spirits hadn't been fair to this little boy either. Look at the way those tiny hands were grabbing onto his tunic, even while asleep; this baby was so desperate for someone to love and take care of him, that he thought even Zuko would do! And no wonder; his mother had just died trying to save him, and there'd been no sign of a father around. No relatives at all to take care of him, not even a somewhat-crazy uncle. And to top it all off, the poor little guy had been born with something that made him different from everyone else, something that absolutely wasn't his fault, but the villagers back there sure hadn't seen it that way…
Okay, so maybe he and the baby had some things sort-of in common after all. They'd both lost their mothers, though this baby was so young now he might not even remember his mother later. (Which would be so much harder on him; at least Zuko still had memories of his mother and her love for him, intangible treasures more precious than gold.) And they'd both been blamed for things that weren't their fault; Zuko sure hadn't told the spirits that he wanted to be born weak, and with no luck except bad luck.
Zuko had been born weak, but he hadn't stayed that way. Everything in his life that he'd had to struggle for, had made him stronger. He never gave up without a fight—he never gave up, period, so long as he was convinced that what he was doing was right and necessary—and now he was tough and strong enough to command a ship and take it around the world, and to take on up to four firebenders at once, or an entire team of earthbending soldiers with only a little help from his uncle.
Maybe the spirits had the right idea after all. Maybe Zuko could teach this little boy how to be strong and tough enough, that he could stand up to any villagers who dared to call him a witch-child again. He thought about that; about the little boy growing bigger, toddling next to him, and at first clinging fearfully to his side as they passed glaring peasants and jeering nobles… then learning to walk proudly on his own, his head held high, as Zuko whispered to him Never forget who you are.
As he pictured it, Zuko felt… he didn't know how to describe it. Something in his chest suddenly felt too big, shoving the rest of his innards around, but it was too pleasantly warm to hurt. Such a weird feeling… but not weird in a bad way.
But first, he had to give the baby a name. Zuko had never named a baby before; cinders, he hadn't even named any pets before. He'd thought of the turtle-ducks in the garden pond as pets, but his mother had always been the one to name them, and after she'd—vanished, he hadn't dared show any attachment to the turtle-ducks anymore, for fear that Azula would fry them just to try to make him cry again. But now he had to name a baby, and he knew without asking that this was a thousand times more important than naming a pet. Some pets didn't even come when their names were called, but a person's name became part of their identity; it was what they would respond to all their lives, become part of how they thought about themselves, and part of what others thought of them too. This one act of naming could affect the baby's whole life, making it that much better with the right name—or helping to ruin it, with the wrong one.
Preoccupied with the baby and thoughts of what to name him—and with how tired he was; Agni, he'd been up for two days and nights straight now—Zuko didn't notice that they weren't going north anymore until he saw the ocean through a break in the trees, and realized they'd turned west at the last fork in the road. "Uncle, we were chasing the Avatar!"
Iroh responded promptly, "We were, when the plan was to simply drop the baby off at the nearest friendly village that would accept him. But that plan has changed now, hasn't it?" His tone became reproving. "Nephew, would you truly risk engaging in battle with the Avatar, not just as exhausted as you are, but with a helpless baby in your arms?"
"N-no, but… We have to keep tracking him! Who knows when we'll have another chance at finding him?"
Iroh snorted in amusement. "Prince Zuko, you are underestimating yourself. Who hunted the Avatar for thirty-eight years without finding him? Your great-grandfather, Fire Lord Sozin. Who hunted the Avatar for even longer without success? Fire Lord Azulon. Who hunted the Avatar for only seven years before returning home, declaring the quest impossible? Your father, when he was still just Prince Ozai. Who hunted the Avatar for less than three years—and found him?"
"Me," Zuko admitted, fighting down a grin. He'd never thought of it that way before, but Uncle was right; he'd done something even his father had never been able to do! It wasn't enough, because he couldn't go home until he'd actually captured the Avatar and brought him back to Fire Nation soil… but it was still something.
"And after the first time he escaped us, you found him again on Kyoshi Island despite all those insane tactical maneuvers he pulled over the southern seas, flying in every compass direction at least once in order to throw us off his trail. I'm certain that you'll track him down again in due course. But for now we should rendezvous with the ship, and get our precious cargo aboard. Which inlet did you send them to wait at?"
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Lieutenant Jee considered himself a patient man. He had to be, to put up with the demands of that spoiled brat of a prince who captained the ship. Prince Zuko was absolutely nothing like his esteemed uncle, the Dragon of the West; he didn't listen to anyone concerning good advice, least of all his wise uncle, and he'd nearly gotten crewmen killed more than once in his quest to capture the Avatar. Under other circumstances, Jee would have taken Prince Zuko's temporary absence from the ship as a gift from the spirits, and simply enjoyed it while waiting for his inevitable return.
But these weren't the usual circumstances. The whole reason Prince Zuko had been gone for over a day now is that he was chasing after the earthbenders that had kidnapped his uncle, General Iroh. Not just Jee but the entire crew had a lot of respect for the retired general, and had even grown fond of his attempts to keep up ship morale with activities like Music Night. Jee had been ready to send an entire squad out after the general's kidnappers, but Prince Zuko had insisted on going after him alone.
Jee had, for once, understood the prince's reasoning; an entire squadron would make too much noise on the trail, and if the earthbenders knew they were being followed, they'd probably slit the general's throat on the spot before scattering and going underground. Anyone who'd muttered about the prince right before catching one of his furious glares clear across the deck of the ship could testify as to how sharp Zuko's hearing was; he'd have the best chance of hearing the kidnappers and sneaking up on them before they could detect him. And the prince was a powerful firebender who had been well-trained in combat by his uncle; Jee was one of the few people aboard who could still stand against him in a sparring match, even though he'd barely started on the advanced forms. But still, it rankled to just sit there and wait while the prince tried to rescue his uncle.
And now it rankled even more, because a few hours ago he'd been woken up from a sound sleep by Sergeant Goro excitedly saying that the night watch had spotted the Avatar's sky bison flying almost directly over the inlet they were anchored in, heading out to sea, and what should they do?
They couldn't do anything, that was the problem. Zuko had given them clear and direct orders to come to this inlet, set anchor and wait for him. Jee knew exactly what happened to officers who disobeyed direct orders without an extremely critical, life-or-death justification; it was how he'd ended up on Prince Zuko's ship without his topknot. But that was the Avatar out there; the whole reason Prince Zuko was on this damned ship at all! If they could just catch that flying brat and chain him down, they could go home!
But Prince Zuko had to be the one to capture the Avatar, or be in command of the ship at the time of capture. General Iroh had made that clear, just over a year ago, when Jee had gotten frustrated enough with the prince to risk muttering to the general that the ship would fare better under his command. The elder had given him a kindly smile, thanking him for the vote of confidence, but insisted that he could not possibly take command; it was Prince Zuko's mission, and he was along merely to help out his nephew. Then that kindly old man had let the Dragon of the West show while informing him that helping out his nephew extended to helping Prince Zuko put down mutinies in the crew; he'd done it before, and was prepared to do it again… In the face of such terrible wrath Jee had instantly kowtowed, sworn on his ancestors that he had no intention of mutinying, and dropped the subject forever.
So the crew weighed anchor and kept the boilers hot, ready to move out in an instant, but did not leave the inlet in pursuit of the Avatar; instead, they just sat there and kept waiting…
And soon after Agni began peeking over the horizon, a lone komodo-rhino with two riders came trotting up along the shore. Everyone on deck spontaneously started cheering at the sight of the prince and the rescued general; grinning from ear to ear, Jee gave the orders to move the ship in closer to shore, just enough that they could drop the bow into a boarding ramp and bring the komodo-rhino aboard.
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"Sshh, shhh; soon, little boy," Zuko murmured, while rubbing the baby's back. Uncle was right, the rubbing seemed to soothe his fussing a little. The baby had woken up again a few minutes ago, probably in need of more food—and definitely in need of a diaper change; Agni, that smell—but now wasn't the time to stop and deal with it, not with the ship in sight and preparing to receive them.
"The crew seems happy to have us back, nephew!" Iroh said cheerfully as they heard the shouts and cheers of the men on deck.
"Happy to have you back, anyway," Zuko couldn't help muttering very quietly. He knew too well that his entire crew hated him; had heard all their mutterings, everything they said behind his back and when they thought he couldn't hear them. Spoiled brat. Royal pain. Arrogant. Volcano-tempered. Reckless. Obsessed. Insane…
He admitted he was obsessed with capturing the Avatar; who wouldn't be, when accomplishing that was the only way he could ever go home again? But the rest… dammit, it hurt that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't win the respect of even the sea-rats on his crew, let alone from his father.
Uncle had said more than once that Zuko wanted their respect, he could try being nice to them; taking an interest in them personally. But he didn't see how that could possibly help; he already knew too much about what his crew was like. He'd read their personnel records; every last one of them had ended up on his ship only after getting in trouble on another ship in the fleet. Caught drunk on duty, missing ship's calls when leaving port, provoking fights within the ranks, disobeying direct orders… the list went on and on. He'd long suspected that most of them had been offered a choice between becoming a member of Prince Zuko's crew or going straight to the brig; a suspicion confirmed when he'd overheard one of the men in the engine room mutter "I should've chosen the brig."
As for being nice to them anyway, who did Uncle think he was kidding? His father never bothered being nice or friendly to people, and neither did Azula, but they got instant respect and obedience whenever they gave orders. Yes, Iroh was friendly to the crew, but that was because he could afford to be; he'd been The Dragon of the West in his heyday, the greatest general and most feared warrior in the entire world, and everyone knew it. All he had to do was frown and people started dropping into kowtows, even if he'd been smiling just moments before. Ashes, even that village headman had almost wet himself when Uncle had turned the Dragon on him, while still wearing just a loincloth!
The bow ramp was coming down not twenty yards away from them. With an effort, he banished the tired slump in his spine and straightened up, determined to show no weakness in front of the crew. He also shoved away all his feelings of being inadequate and worthless compared to the rest of his family, and put on the hard frown he wore nearly all the time when aboard, to let the crew know he would tolerate no disrespect from them. He was not going to let any of them laugh at him or mock him, for taking care of a baby that wasn't of his blood.
They rode the komodo-rhino aboard the ship, then dismounted to leave it to the beast-tender as Lieutenant Jee strode up to them. "Welcome back, sirs!" as he gave a brisk salute. "Glad to see you're all right, General. Sirs, roughly three hours ago, we had a—baby?" as his salute dropped nearly as fast as his jaw.
"Yes, a baby," Zuko said firmly, looking his lieutenant right in the eye as he shifted to settle the baby more firmly onto his shoulder. "I'm taking care of him." Then he winced, as sharp pain radiated from the top of his head; his phoenix-plume had swung back within the baby's reach again when he'd gotten off the komodo-rhino. He resignedly muttered "No," while reaching back to pull his hair out of the infant's surprisingly strong grasp for what felt like the umpteenth time—Uncle had said that Zuko just had to keep telling the baby 'no' when he did things he wasn't supposed to, but hadn't said how long it would take for the lesson to sink in. Then he continued telling Jee, "The saddlebags are full of baby supplies; have them brought to my cabin."
"Uh… what?" as a still-gaping Jee looked past him, to Uncle—cinders, he hated when they did that! Why couldn't they just listen to him?
"I believe you heard your commanding officer," Uncle Iroh rumbled. "An orphaned Earth Kingdom child has fallen into our care; Prince Zuko will be raising him. Now, if you please; we really do need those saddlebags in short order. The baby is in dire need of a diaper change, and a decent breakfast." Uncle interrupted himself with a yawn so wide it looked like the top of his head would fall off, then continued, "And the prince and myself will need breakfast, too, and a decent period of rest; after everything we've been through recently, a man needs his rest."
Zuko was so tired, it seemed to take forever to drag himself up the ladders and through all the passageways between the beast-hold and his cabin; he reached his door just as a crewman sprinted up with a basket full of the baby supplies from the saddlebags. Tadao set the supplies down in his room, staring wide-eyed at the baby in his sling, then offered hesitantly, "Sir, I have a little brother I used to help take care of. Would you like me to help with the baby's diaper change?"
Agni, yes! He'd been dreading the prospect of having to deal with all that stinking mess himself. Trying not to let the sheer relief show on his face, he agreed to the offer, then gestured towards the baby supplies.
Tadao quickly set out the supplies and got a change of clothes, fresh diaper and a cleaning rag ready, while asking, "Sir, ah... Sir, may I ask the baby's name?"
Tearing his longing gaze away from the bed—so close, and yet so far—Zuko sighed. "We don't know what his name used to be; his mother died before we found him. I haven't decided on a new name for him yet."
When everything was ready, Tadao gently took the baby from his arms, efficiently stripped the infant out of the soiled clothes and cleaned off his bottom, murmuring what sounded like a nursery song while he worked. Zuko made a mental note to have someone write that nursery song down for him to learn later; the only one he knew by heart was 'Leaves From the Vine'—the one Uncle had sung to him over and over while he'd been wracked with fever, in the first few days after he'd been burned—and he'd sung it so many times in the last few hours he was already sick of it.
"There we go, little man, all clean and ready for new clothes," Tadao was saying to the baby with a smile as he started putting the fresh diaper on. Then came the baby's outer clothes, accompanied by the baby's cheerful burbling and Tadao's equally cheerful running commentary of "Here we go, let's get the left arm in… good baby, now the right arm… aren't you a good boy, hm? And now you're all clean and dressed, and… huh?"
Zuko had been almost nodding off while still on his feet, but he suddenly snapped back to awareness to find Tadao kneeling in front of the baby while peering hard at his little face. Oh, cinders, was all he had time to think in dismay before Tadao suddenly scrambled back, almost crab-walking backwards away from the baby, while hissing, "A witch-child!"
To Koh's Lair with that! Zuko reached down to grab Tadao by the collar and yanked him up to glare at him face-to-face while snarling, "Say that again and die! This baby is not a witch-child!"
But that fool Tadao still babbled, "B-but sir, its eyes-"
Zuko did his damndest to channel the Dragon of the West into his voice as he glared, growling, "Crewman, do you really have a problem with mismatched eyes?"
Tadao's face was almost bloodless with terror. "S-s-sir, no sir!"
"Good. Now get out!" as he shoved the private towards the door.
Tadao quickly scrambled out of the cabin, just barely missing General Iroh as he came in with a tray of food in his hands. His uncle gave him a reproving look, but Zuko ignored it as he reached down to scoop up the baby again, murmuring, "There, there; no one's going to hurt you, I promise…"
Iroh set the loaded breakfast tray down on his desk with a raised eyebrow. "We have a problem already?"
Zuko sighed. "Apparently Earth Kingdom peasants aren't the only superstitious fools in the world. Tadao saw the baby's eyes and started almost screaming that he's a witch-child!"
"Oh dear…" Iroh shook his head. "We'll have to address the entire crew, and quickly; before any wild rumors start spreading. I'll go fetch Lieutenant Jee, nephew; you can see about feeding the baby in the meantime." His uncle got him situated with a cup of water, a small bowl of plain sticky rice and another of what looked like hastily diced mango pieces, advising him, "Use the spoon instead of chopsticks, so you don't poke his mouth by accident."
By the time his uncle came back with Lieutenant Jee in tow, Zuko was fighting an overwhelming urge to cry, from sheer frustration and despair. Only about half of the sticky rice had actually gone inside the baby's mouth; the rest had somehow ended up all over his face and baby clothes, and even a few grains on Zuko's own clothes! And some of the water had spilled, and—he just couldn't do this! How could he take care of a baby and raise him up well, when he couldn't even feed him right?
But when Lieutenant Jee walked in with his uncle, the officer took one look at him and then just sat right down on the deck and offered with his arms outstretched for the baby, "Please, sir, let me help you out for the moment. My wife and I raised a son and two daughters; I remember how hard it is to feed them solid food at this stage."
Zuko glared at him. "If I hear one blasted word about his eyes…"
"The general already told me, sir. May I?" Jee still had his arms out, so Zuko carefully transferred the baby over to him, then watched him like a dragon-hawk. After only one brief glance at the baby's eyes, Jee just settled him in his lap, accepted the spoon and remaining food from Iroh, and started feeding him without further comment.
Iroh, on the other hand, commented approvingly, "You did very well for a first try at feeding, nephew."
Zuko gave him a sullen glare. "Don't patronize me; you can see the mess here as well as I can!"
"But the bowl of rice is almost completely empty, and there isn't quite enough of it spread around to make even half a bowl. Which means that a large portion of it actually went into the baby's stomach; that's very good for a first try!"
"Your uncle is right, sir," Jee said without looking up from what he was doing. "For my first time feeding my eldest daughter, I averaged one spoonful in five actually going into her stomach. Mind you, she was a little younger than this fellow is now; I'd say he's a year old or so…"
"That was my guess too," Iroh put in. Zuko looked at them doubtfully, but neither seemed to be lying just to make him feel better. How about that; he wasn't screwing things up too badly already…
Iroh urged Zuko to eat his own breakfast, get out of the clothes and half-donned armor he'd been wearing for two days straight, clean up and put on a dressing gown while together they told Jee all about finding the baby. Including Iroh's account of the kirin-spirit, and what the village headman had said about the baby and his deceased mother. Jee didn't seem at all surprised at Uncle Iroh's admission that he could see spirits due to his journey to the Spirit World; Zuko wondered for a moment if he was the only one who hadn't believed that crewman's story about his uncle, and felt ashamed of himself again.
At the end of the tale, Jee set down the empty bowl and spoon and wiped the baby's face as he declared, "I'll call for an assembly, and ensure the crew knows the whole story."
"Perhaps not every single thing I just told you," Iroh said with an upraised finger. "I would prefer to keep quiet my ability to see the unseen; it leads to uncomfortable questions, many of which I can not answer. Simply assure the crew that I am quite certain he is not a witch-child."
"As you command, general. But before I go, sirs, I can put him into fresh clothes for you, and take the soiled ones down to the laundry. And ask the quartermaster to whip up a few bibs for feedings; they're good for keeping the mess off his clothes."
They took him up on his offer, and the baby was wearing a clean set of clothes in just a few minutes, even before Zuko had finished dressing. "Thank you very much, Lieutenant," Iroh said as the lieutenant got up to leave, and this time Zuko added his own thanks, quieter but no less fervent.
"My honor to serve, sirs," Jee said as he bowed to them and left. The response was standard, but… Zuko blinked as he thought that this time, Jee had sounded like he really meant it.
Now that they were alone in the cabin, Zuko found himself pulled towards the bed like flotsam in a whirlpool. Uncle made some paternal noises as he virtually tucked Zuko into bed, tucking the baby in with him. "You'll need to keep a good hold on him, nephew, until we can get a crib put together for him to sleep in. Offhand, I don't see anything lying about that he could hurt himself with, but little babies always seem to find something that the adults missed at first."
"Got it," Zuko said drowsily, lying on his side and holding the baby to his chest. For his part, the baby seemed to find a fire prince's bed to be warm and snuggly and perfect for napping in; he settled against Zuko without any fussing. The prince was vaguely aware of his uncle giving another face-splitting yawn and tottering off to his own cabin next door, before sheer exhaustion swept him away.
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Tadao was down in the mess hall, telling two other wide-eyed crewmen what he'd seen of the witch-child's eyes and what he feared it meant for the ship, when the word was passed that Lieutenant Jee wanted everyone on deck for an emergency assembly.
Twenty minutes later, everyone stood at attention with Jee standing in front of the formation, with an odd look on his face. He began without preamble, "I imagine the rumors are flying around the ship already, so I called you all here to set them straight. Yes, Prince Zuko and General Iroh brought a baby back with them; an orphaned Earth Kingdom peasant boy. Yes, the prince has stated he is going to take care of the boy. Yes, the baby has one brown eye and one blue eye. But General Iroh is certain that the baby is not a witch-child. Any questions?"
There were questions aplenty, so many that Jee had to tell them to ask them one at a time, starting with the front row on the right. Hūn asked the first question, and while normally Hūn wasn't the brightest of candles, this time he asked what Tadao thought was the most sensible question ever: "How can he be so certain that it isn't a witch-child?"
"The general has his methods; that's all I can tell you, but personally, I believe him. Next?"
Goro asked, "Well, if it isn't a witch-child, where'd the one blue eye come from? Is he half Water Tribe or something?"
"I don't know, and they don't know either. The baby's mother was Earth Kingdom but they have no idea who the father was, so it's possible. Next?"
Li Mein asked, "What happened to the mother?"
"They found her and the baby in a ravine; Prince Zuko said it appeared they'd fallen in while running from pursuit, and she broke her leg and suffered internal injuries that eventually killed her. They gave her some funeral rites and took the baby with them. Next?"
"You said 'running from pursuit'; any idea what they were being pursued by?"
"I'm glad you asked that question." Jee's teeth showed in a horrendous scowl, though thankfully it didn't seem directed at any of them. "The headman of the nearest village told them that men from his village had been after her, after they'd already turned her and the baby out into the wilderness; they blamed the pair for some spirit-trouble they were having and wanted to execute an innocent child in hopes of making the spirit-trouble stop, instead of doing what any sane man would do and calling for a Fire Sage… or Earth Sage, I suppose; they probably deal with spirits the same way." The scowl had softened to an uncertain frown while talking about sages, but deepened with contempt as he continued, "Personally, I think those damn fool villagers are lucky they didn't actually kill an innocent baby, on the eve of the Winter Solstice; that's just begging for a flood of evil spirits to swarm into your home. Next?"
"Well… how long is the baby going to be aboard?"
"Right now, we can assume indefinitely. Next?"
"Indefinitely? As in, they're keeping it?" Joben asked incredulously. "You're joking, right? I mean, I don't have an opinion one way or the other about eyes that don't match up, but… an Earth Kingdom peasant baby that's probably a bastard child, and Fire Nation royalty? You can't get more mismatched than that!"
Jee gave an amused snort as he admitted, "Can't argue with that. But… up until this morning, I would have said that Prince Zuko is…" he paused, looking in the direction of the prince's cabin as if he was worried about being overheard—and he probably was—then continued a little more quietly, "I would have said he's an arrogant, self-centered, spoiled brat of a prince who doesn't care about anyone or anything that doesn't have to do with his quest to capture the Avatar. And I would have guessed that anyone who even touched that royal phoenix-plume he's so proud of would have been either kicked overboard, set on fire or both. But while he was telling me that he'd be taking care of the baby, that little one got his hands in the prince's hair and yanked hard, hard enough that even I was wincing…"
Jee waited through the chorus of hisses from people sucking in air through their teeth, with expressions ranging from appalled to dismayed, then continued, "And all he did was pull his hair back out of the kid's grasp and tell me about the baby supplies in the saddlebags. And later on up in his cabin, the prince was nearly asleep on his feet from being awake two days and nights straight, but he was still fussing over feeding the baby before he'd even had anything to eat himself. Fussing over the baby just like any…" Jee shook his head when he couldn't quite manage to say the words, then continued, "I'm telling you, it was almost enough to make me ask the general what he'd done with the old spoiled brat prince, and how long we could keep this one."
Stunned silence greeted his statement, that lasted for a good thirty seconds before Shoda indicated he had a question: "How old would you say this baby is?"
Jee shrugged. "I'd guess about a year, give or take a month. Next?"
"Um, I wasn't finished," Shoda said hastily, then hesitated before continuing, "Well, we've chased rumors of the Avatar into so many places, lots of them have sort-of blurred together, so I'm asking… Have we been in this region before?"
Jee gave a twisted smile. "Before, as in, a year and nine months ago? I already thought of that; I was checking the ship's logs when the general came and asked me to come to the prince's cabin. No, in that time frame we were over a thousand miles away from here, checking out the ruins of the Eastern Air Temple. This baby is not of the prince's blood, even if he's sure as sunset acting like it."
Tetsuko's question was, "So, what's the baby's name?"
Jee gave another shrug. "They've no idea what his old name was; Prince Zuko's still deciding on a new one."
Then Akio asked, "What did Prince Zuko say about the Avatar sighting?"
Jee opened his mouth… paused with it hanging open for a good five seconds, as he started flushing dull red… and finally admitted, "He doesn't know about it yet. I was about to tell him when I saw the baby in his arms, and after that I got completely sidetracked..." He rubbed his sideburns in thought, then declared, "The bison was heading north-northwest at time of sighting. Navigator, determine what Earth Kingdom islands and towns lie in that general direction; we'll set a course for the nearest one at top cruising speed. If we actually catch up to the beast—not likely, given that it's got over three hours' head start, but if we do—then I will wake the prince up and inform him. But until then, we let him sleep. He's been up for two days and nights now, and men that tired do not make rational decisions; Agni knows what insanity he'd consider putting us through today, if he thought he had a chance to capture that flying brat at last."
The assembly broke up soon afterwards, with everyone returning to their duties, but Tadao's fears hadn't been settled by what Jee had said; if anything, they'd gotten worse. The general could spout all his assurances about the baby not being a witch-child, but for a royal prince—not just any royal prince, but Prince Zuko the Royal Pain—to act so fatherly with a baby that wasn't of his own royal blood, just wasn't natural. Prince Zuko had been bewitched by the baby's powers, and right under the general's nose.
Given the way the prince had blown up at him earlier, Tadao knew better than to voice his suspicions to either of the royals; he had no desire to be set on fire. But he'd start carrying salt in his belt pouch, and writing prayers on paper to stuff inside his sleeves; he'd do what he could to protect himself, while waiting for disaster to strike.
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Appa was flying as fast as he could, but Aang was still worried about their making it to Crescent Island in the Fire Nation before the sun set on the Winter Solstice. "Come on, boy! We've got a long way to go! Faster!"
"We should be about halfway there by now," Sokka said, studying the map he had spread over his lap. "We should reach Fire Nation territory in the next few minutes… and run into that hothead Prince Zuko about thirty seconds later."
"Don't go borrowing trouble," Katara scolded him, but the worried frown on her face said she feared Zuko would show up as well.
"Actually, I think we might have a better chance of not seeing Prince Zuko there," Aang called over his shoulder to the Water Tribe siblings. "From what Zuko and his sailors were saying while I was aboard that one time, I kind-of got the impression that they couldn't go home to the Fire Nation until after they captured the Avatar."
But five minutes later, when they saw what was on the horizon at the Fire Nation border, Sokka groaned out loud, "Aw, man… that's even worse than Prince Zuko!"
"A blockade!" Katara blurted out, her eyes wide with dismay. There were at least thirty ships steaming back and forth in a pattern to block foreign ships from coming through… and they were headed right for them!
Aang stared at the line of ships with worry. "If we fly north, we can go around the Fire Nation ships and avoid the blockade. It's the only way!"
But Katara said sternly, "There's no time!"
Aang glanced fearfully over his shoulder at his friends. "This is exactly why I didn't want you to come. It's too dangerous!"
Katara gave him a look of fierce determination. "And that's exactly why we're here."
Sokka gave a short nod of agreement, looking even more determined than his sister. "Let's run this blockade!"
Aang faced forward and gripped the reins even tighter, commanding, "Appa! Yip yip!"
00oo00oo00oo00oo00
When a lookout spotted the Avatar's sky bison heading in their direction, attempting to fly right over the ships in his blockade, Zhao decided it must be his lucky day.
Ten minutes and dozens of catapult launches later, when the bison soared past them into Fire Nation territory apparently unscathed, Zhao wasn't feeling quite so lucky anymore. If word got out that he'd let the Avatar slip past his forces, he'd be almost as much of a national disgrace as the ex-Prince Zuko! He ordered three ships, including his flagship, out of formation to follow the Avatar and bring him down.
His warships had been built for offensive firepower instead of speed and quick maneuverability; the sky bison was out of sight by the time the three warships had left formation and started the pursuit. But Zhao's navigator plotted the sky bison's course on their maps and predicted that he was heading for Crescent Island, the site of the Fire Sages' main temple to the Avatar. Headed for the temple on the Winter Solstice, the day the walls between the Spirit World and mortal world were thinnest… Zhao scowled and ordered full steam ahead.
00oo00oo00oo00oo00
Zuko woke up when something hit the deck with a crash. He blearily blinked and shook himself awake, then looked around in dawning horror as he realized his normally tidy and spotless cabin had been trashed.
All his shoes and boots had been pulled out of the low shelf they were kept in and dragged here and there across the floor, which was now crisscrossed with black smudges and streaks. The crimson wall hanging he kept over the wall-mounted mirror had been yanked down and the mirror's lower half covered with black fingerprints. The papers that had been piled on his desk under a paperweight were now scattered, tattered and torn to scraps, not to mention splotched with black from the inkwell he now saw spilled on the floor next to the desk. And that crash was from the teapot Uncle Iroh had given him as a birthday present last year; it had been pulled from its shelf and lay on the floor in ceramic shards all around the baby, whose ink-stained face was scrunching up in a—
"WAAAHHH!"
Zuko scrambled out of bed so fast his feet got tangled in the sheets and he ended up toppling over, landing hard on his left shoulder… just as the baby finished sucking in breath and let loose another earsplitting wail.
He flopped over from his side to his stomach and half-crawled, half-dragged himself over to the baby, with words tumbling frantically out of him: "It's okay, it'll be okay, are you hurt? Are you bleeding? Come here, it'll be okay, I never liked that thing anyway, I only kept it out because Uncle gave it to me, did it hit you on the head? Where does it hurt?" But all he got in response was another horrible shriek that made his sensitive eardrums want to retreat deeper inside his skull.
He didn't see any blood, but he couldn't tell if any bruises were forming under all the ink stains on the baby's face, his hands, and his legs clear up to his butt. But the way he was screaming, he had to be hurt somewhere! Zuko scrambled to his feet with the baby in his arms—and then swore in startled pain when he stepped on a shard of the teapot.
Hopping on one foot, he made his way over to the door just as it opened and his uncle burst in, nearly bowling him over. "What happened?" Iroh demanded, looking around wildly.
"I screwed up, I let go of him while I was sleeping, and—I think the teapot fell on his head!" Zuko gasped as he managed, barely, to keep from falling over by steadying himself with a hand on his uncle's shoulder. "How do you check for a concussion?"
He was ready to hop-limp all the way to sickbay with the baby, but Uncle took a deep breath and gathered himself, then plucked the infant from his arms while ordering Zuko to sit down and calm himself. Zuko sat on the edge of the bed, pulling ceramic slivers out of his foot while looking anxiously up at his uncle. Iroh looked the crying baby over from head to toe, then pronounced with a crooked smile, "I believe he was merely scared by the loud crash, as I was. There, there, young one… That's right, you're safe, now calm down… Here, nephew; deep calming breaths for yourself, while holding him and rubbing his back," as he handed the infant over.
Calm himself while holding a screaming baby? Uncle was absolutely insane… But Zuko took the baby and several deep shuddering breaths while Uncle held his gaze, radiating calm like heat waves while reciting a familiar koan for meditation. Soon he was able to force calm on himself… and almost as soon as he calmed down, so did the baby. Weird.
He kept rubbing the baby's back to keep him soothed, while his uncle looked over the trashed cabin with a rueful expression and slowly shook his head. "Dear me, what a mess… We'll have to get a cleaning detail in here quickly. And get the two of you cleaned up as well; perhaps we can wash at least a few of the ink stains off…"
Iroh put together a three-man cleaning party to scrub Zuko's cabin, while Zuko took the baby down to the laundry room that doubled as the ship's bathing room on non-laundry days. Today was actually a laundry day, but Joben took one look at the baby now covered in black blotches, and hurriedly emptied the clothes out of the last rinsing tub without any questions.
Zuko scowled at the rinse tub, filled with cold clear water. "A cold bath? I wouldn't do that to a spider-snake!" Cold baths were sheer misery, a mild form of torture as far as he was concerned, and nobody expected this Earth Kingdom kid to be a firebender…
"Quicker for you to warm up cold water with some firebending than to wait for the wash water to cool down, sir," as Joben indicated the wash tubs with a jerk of his chin. The washing water was heated by steam piped in straight from the engine room's main boiler; curling wisps of steam were visible in the air above those tubs, and Joben's hands and arms were bright red from being immersed in them. "Babies have right delicate skin; y'gotta bathe 'em in warm water instead of hot. 'Sides, the regular laundry soap would likely give the littl'un a rash. I'll get you some mild soap powder, and some sword oil from the armory, while you're heating the water."
"Sword oil?" Zuko echoed incredulously.
"For getting the ink off skin, sir; best thing for it," Joben said over his shoulder as he hurried out.
Zuko stared after the crewman, then decided to believe him; it wasn't like Zuko had any experience in washing babies to compare it with. After checking to make sure there wasn't anything around for the baby to get his ink-stained hands on—all the laundry was up on tables well off the deck—Zuko set the baby down, rolled up his sleeves and plunged an arm deep into the cold water with a shudder of distaste, then set to heating it with firebending. It was tempting to fire several blasts into it until it was as hot as he liked his baths, but Joben had said warm but not hot.
While steadily heating the water, he turned enough to keep an eye on the baby. The little boy tried to stand up, made it to his feet for just a few seconds and then wobbled and fell backwards onto his butt; Zuko tensed, ready to grab him and comfort him again but the baby just seemed to shake it off without any tears. Maybe he was so low to the ground already that just the diaper padding prevented him from being hurt. After that, the baby crawled around, leaving smears of ink here and there on the floor—his crew was going to hate him even more after this, Zuko just knew it—until he reached the wall. Then he pulled himself up and started walking unsteadily along the perimeter, while keeping one hand against the wall for balance. Resourceful little boy, Zuko thought approvingly, while swirling around the heated water to warm the entire tub. He wondered if the baby really hadn't learned to walk yet, or if he could walk on level ground but hadn't gotten his sea legs yet.
Soon the water in the tub felt just a little bit warmer than his own skin; Zuko hoped that was what Joben had meant. With the water ready, he turned his attention to getting the baby out of his clothes and diaper—which was sodden with pee already; didn't this kid do anything besides make messes? He'd just finished getting the baby stripped when his uncle came into the laundry room with a bundle of clean clothing, reporting that the cleanup had begun and his room should be presentable again in an hour or so. "Plenty of time to get both of you clean again," he concluded with a wry smile.
Zuko nodded, grimacing at the ink stains on his hands that he'd noticed while rolling his sleeves up. "Well, it should probably come off my hands while I'm washing him," he concluded with a shrug. The dressing gown was ink-stained too, but he had a strong hunch it was about to get wet anyway; he'd change clothes afterwards.
Iroh chuckled. "More than your hands need cleaning now, nephew." He produced a small hand mirror from his belt pouch and proffered it. Zuko took it with dread pooling in his stomach, looked in it… and then groaned aloud. Tiny black smudges and handprints were all over his neck and collarbones, and even his cheeks and jaw! Everywhere the baby had touched him and grabbed at him while calming down and being carried here…
"There's nothing for it but to hop into the tub with him," Iroh said with a shrug. "Besides, you'll be able to hold him more safely while washing him that way. Here, I'll hold him while you strip."
So Zuko resignedly stripped and got into the tub, just as Joben came back in with the sword oil and the mild soap powder. But when Iroh started to hand the baby to Zuko for washing, he began squalling and kicking up a storm, his voice rising to ear-piercing shrieks as he was brought closer to the tub. Iroh stared at the baby in consternation, muttering, "What on earth…?"
"It's okay, ssshhh, I know, but I heated it nice and warm for you, it's okay," Zuko said soothingly as he stood up to take the baby, hugging the little boy to his chest while doing his best to ignore the flailing fists and feet. "It's nice and warm, I promise," he said over and over while lowering himself and the baby slowly into the water. When the baby's feet first touched the water, he shrieked loud enough to deafen a komodo-rhino, but less than a minute later, he quieted down and was waving his hands in the water in wide-eyed wonder. "See? Nice and warm… Now let's get you clean, okay?"
"If he came from peasant folks, this is likely the first warm bath the poor little tyke's ever had," Joben said wisely as he started mixing water and soap powder in a small bowl to make a rich lather.
"But you knew what was troubling him, even before I did," Iroh said admiringly as he soaked a rag in the sword oil, then reached out to begin wiping ink off the nearest infant appendage. "Another indication that you'll be a fine father to this boy."
"Fatherhood had nothing to do with it," Zuko snorted as he accepted another oil-soaked rag and started on the other side. "I just remembered how much I dreaded taking cold baths."
Iroh paused and gave him a strange look. "Prince Zuko, when have you ever taken cold baths?"
"I took them for over four months, when I was six years old—hold still, baby! This oil's making you slippery!—Anyway, the day after Azula made her first sparks, Father told the servants to stop heating my bathwater, and told me that if I ever wanted a hot bath again I'd better start firebending so I could heat it myself." Zuko didn't quite repress a shudder at the memory of those hideously cold baths he had endured, until his firebending had finally kicked in. Awful times, with his grim-faced servants scrubbing him clean as fast as they could while he tried so hard not to shiver from sitting in that cold, cold water… and Azula had delighted in playing tricks on him that ended up with him covered in mud or muck and needing baths twice a day. Once she'd gotten him dirty three times in the same horrible day, and that night he'd climbed into bed still shivering miserably.
The day after he'd made his first sparks (and came sooo close to setting fire to Azula's hair; she hadn't been expecting that at all, and the look on her face had exulted him almost as much as the sparks had), he'd triumphantly told the servants to stand aside so he could heat the water for his bath… then almost wept when, after ten minutes of throwing all the little fires he could make at the tub full of water, it was still unbearably cold. Then one of the firebending palace guards had wandered into the bathroom on a servant's heels, faked a horrible cough that 'accidentally' sent a sizeable fireball into the tub, apologized for his poor manners at coughing so in the prince's presence, and left as quickly as he came. And that had been the end of the cold baths… Zuko shook himself back to the present, and went back to scrubbing at ink stains.
With a snort of disgust, Joben commented, "Everyone knows cold water sucks a firebender's power away; cold baths all the time would be more likely to keep a boy from making sparks at all! What kind of damnfool idiot would-" he abruptly cut himself off and went white as a funeral sheet, as he realized who he'd just been speaking ill of. "I-I-I mean, I'm sure the Fire Lord had his reasons, and they're not for me to question!"
"Indeed," was all Iroh said in response, looking very grim as he continued scrubbing ink off the baby. Zuko knew he should defend how his father had chosen to motivate him to begin making fire, knew he should harshly correct Joben's comment… but right then he was busy trying to clean while fending off splashes; the baby was happily slapping the water while giggling with delight. And those giggles were… nice to listen to, really…
"It is good to see you smiling again, nephew," his uncle commented a few minutes later, while deftly scrubbing the last of the ink off the baby's backside.
"Huh?" Zuko was startled up from where he'd been tickling the baby's tummy to keep him giggling.
"It has been a very long time since I've seen you smile at anything. But there is something wonderful about a laughing baby, isn't there?" as Iroh gave him a knowing smile.
"…Yeah," he admitted. Seeing and hearing the baby laugh and giggle at him, was giving him more of that too-big-but-warm feeling in his chest that he'd had earlier, while traveling with the baby to his ship. He still couldn't put a name to what he was feeling, and it was actually not just weird but a little scary, but… he also liked it a lot.
Once they'd gotten off all the ink off the baby, Iroh handed Zuko the mirror and took over entertaining the baby while Zuko scrubbed the ink off himself. Then it was time to lather up with the soap and wash away all the sword oil, then rinse and climb out of the tub. "Ah, look at you now, all nice and clean," Iroh cooed as he carefully patted the baby dry with a towel. "What did you think of your very first warm bath?"
"How soon will he start talking, anyway?" Zuko asked as he climbed out of the tub, wrapped a larger towel around his waist and wrung out his phoenix-plume. "I haven't heard anything but babbling so far."
"He'll start using short sentences in another year or so, though I should think he already knows a word or two. But a child's first words are usually about his favorite toys and his mother, and unfortunately, we don't have either of those around here," Iroh concluded sadly, as he finished putting the baby's diaper on. Then he brightened a little bit as he added, "But there's no time like the present for him to begin learning new words, eh?" Then he turned the baby to face Zuko and pointed right at his scarred face as he said, "Little one, this is your Papa Zuko. Can you say that? Can you say 'Papa Zuko'?"
Zuko froze, and swallowed hard to force down the lump that had suddenly appeared in his throat… But the baby only babbled some more nonsense in response to his uncle's words. He couldn't decide whether he was relieved or disappointed.
"Not yet, hm? Well, don't worry, you'll learn it soon enough. Let's get you dressed, little one," Iroh said as he began wrestling the baby into a fresh set of baby clothes while Zuko dried off and got dressed in the clothes Iroh had brought for him. "Another word he should learn, would be his own name. Have you thought of a good one yet, nephew?"
"Not yet," Zuko admitted as he pulled on a fresh dressing gown. "I thought of 'Li', but… it just seemed too common for him. I mean, I know his mother was a peasant, but…"
Iroh smiled in understanding, then continued, "Well, there's no better time than right now to think of a few more names. Since he will be your first son, how about 'Ichiro'?"
Zuko froze again in sheer panic—Bright Agni, was his uncle expecting him to go around finding and adopting more orphans?—then finally managed to squeak out, "Um, no?"
"Well, I suppose not; others might then expect him to become your heir, but the Fire Sages simply wouldn't allow that," Iroh mused. "What about 'Chokichi'? He did have the extremely good fortune of you hearing his cries and saving him from certain death."
Joben looked up from where he was draining the tub so it could be refilled for laundry use, and shook his head. "Begging your pardon, general, but it might not be a good idea to name him that."
"And why not?" as Iroh gave him a bushy raised eyebrow.
"Well… permission to speak freely, sirs?" Joben asked warily. They granted permission, so he went on, "Lieutenant Jee told everyone that you're sure the baby's got no witchy powers, but there are still a few folks that aren't so sure. Reminding everyone whenever they hear his name how lucky he was that you found him, is just going to make those folks wonder more if it was really just luck or something more than that, like work of the spirits." To which Zuko could say absolutely nothing, because according to his uncle, the spirits had been involved in his finding the baby after all.
Iroh must have silently agreed with him, because he said readily, "Not Chokichi, then. But please tell us plainly, Joben, besides those superstitious few, how does the rest of the crew feel about our bringing a baby aboard?"
"Uh, well…" Joben hesitated.
"Just spit it out," Zuko growled at Joben, even as he accepted the baby from his uncle's arms. "No honey-coating; I need to know the worst of it."
"Yes, sirs!" Joben gulped. "Ah, well, about half the crew thinks it was absolutely crazy to bring a baby aboard the ship." Zuko had been expecting that reaction—he still thought it was crazy—but it still hurt a little to hear the words spoken out loud. But then Joben went on, "The other half thinks it might be the best thing that's happened since you first found the Avatar."
Zuko stared at him. "…What?"
Joben shrugged and spread his hands. "Lots of us have family we haven't seen in years, sir. Sons and daughters, nephews and nieces, a few even have grandchildren that they haven't seen except in sketches. They think it'll be nice to have a little boy running around as a ship's mascot or something, even if he doesn't belong to them." Then he cracked a grin, showing the gap in his teeth. "Maybe 'specially if he doesn't belong to them, because then they won't be expected to change his diapers all the time."
"Understandable," Iroh chuckled.
After blinking and absorbing that surprising information for a few moments, Zuko looked down at the baby in his arms and asked, "How about 'Mushi'?" It meant 'likes soldiers' but could also mean 'liked by soldiers', which seemed appropriate now.
Iroh frowned. "Nephew, I know you have fond memories of him, but if you name that boy after the lion-dog that used to patrol with the imperial guards, I shall be very disappointed in you."
Zuko blushed at the rebuke, and protested, "I don't mean I think he's a pet or anything!"
Dried off and dressed, they took the baby back to Zuko's room, still debating baby names. All the names meaning 'lucky' were immediately rejected, for the reason Joben had given; all the names meaning 'rare' were likewise rejected, because Zuko felt there was no reason to emphasize his unusual eyes.
Zuko's room was clean again by the time they got there, and with a new addition; a large earthenware jar with a heavy lid now sat in the corner by the door. "For putting soiled diapers in," Iroh said, pointing it out. Stuff was missing, too, namely all his shoes and boots; Akio apologized for the inconvenience and promised that he'd have them back as soon as they got all the ink stains out of them. Zuko suppressed a sigh and decided that he could continue going shoeless for a while, then sat down on the bed with the baby in his lap while Iroh retrieved a tea set from his quarters and began brewing a fresh pot. "Instead of a name based upon his appearance or his circumstances, we should think of names that speak of his future," his uncle suggested while gripping the teapot to heat the water inside.
"A name meaning 'strong', then," Zuko mused aloud, while letting the baby grasp and tug at the frog closures on his dressing gown; he'd have to come up with some toys for the baby to play with, and soon. "He'll need to be strong, to survive… 'Ken'? 'Takeo'?"
"Both are good names… but I had something else in mind. A name that is perhaps more of a promise to him than a wish for him," Iroh said slowly. "You could name him 'Teiji'."
" 'Righteous'?" Zuko mused aloud.
" 'Well-governed'," Iroh corrected him. "Consider it a promise that you will raise him well, with neither too much indulgence to spoil him, nor cruelty to make him fear you. It can be very challenging, to show love for someone without being too indulgent… to discipline them without being cruel. But I believe you can do it, nephew; you can raise him to be well-governed, so that someday far in the future, he will govern his own children just as well."
"Teiji," Zuko said aloud, thinking it over. It was scary, choosing a name like that, making a promise that big… but then, he and his uncle had already vowed to his mother's spirit that they'd see her baby raised to respect and honor her memory. He'd meant at the time that they'd see the boy safely placed with a decent Earth Kingdom family, but… Really, the name wouldn't be the promise, just a reminder of the promise already made. And it would be a reminder that what was truly important wasn't how the baby looked, with those mismatched eyes, but how his elders raised him and how he behaved in response. "Teiji." He looked down at the baby in his arms, and gave a little smile. "Hello, Teiji."
Teiji smiled back at him, reached up to pat his chin with one chubby hand… and then pooped in his diapers again.
Iroh winced as the smell wafted to his nose, then chuckled wryly. "Oh, the joys of fatherhood… I'll take care of it, nephew."
"No, I'll do it this time," Zuko insisted, though with a gusty sigh, as he gestured for the diaper bag that had been put on his desk. "If I'm going to raise him, I'd better get used to this…"
00oo00oo00oo00oo00
When Zhao's task force of warships reached Crescent Island, Zhao personally led the attack as his men stormed the Fire Sages' temple there. They quickly captured the Avatar's companions, and were almost in time to prevent the child Avatar from contacting his predecessor, Avatar Roku.
Unfortunately, the key word in that sentence was 'almost.'
After the Avatar's escape and the volcanic explosion that completely wrecked the temple and crippled one of Zhao's ships, since Prince Zuko wasn't handy to pin all the blame on, Zhao found the scapegoats he needed in the Fire Sages. The High Sage protested that only one of them had helped the Avatar, but he declared them all to be traitors and had them imprisoned in the flagship's holding cells.
He glared off to the East, the direction the Avatar's bison had been fleeing in, and vowed that one day the Avatar would be in one of those holding cells. To go down in history as the man to capture the Avatar… Zhao would make a glorious reputation for himself that would last for a thousand years, or die trying!
00oo00oo00oo00oo00
As an officer, Jee technically had the right to eat in the officers' quarters. But he had risen through the enlisted ranks before becoming an officer, and on this ship the only other officers were royalty, so instead Jee always ate with the crew in the mess hall. Tonight he nodded to the galley assistant taking the tray of dinner up to the royal quarters, noting the extra cup, bowl and spoon on the tray, before sitting down in his usual spot next to Tetsuko.
Dinners were always noisy affairs, but tonight the conversation levels reached epic proportions, and most of them were about the baby Prince Zuko had brought aboard: Had the prince given the baby a name yet? Had the general said it wasn't a witch-child because he was sure, or just to prevent a mutiny? What if the baby's real father found out where he was and came for him? What would Fire Lord Ozai have to say about his son adopting an Earth Kingdom peasant child? What if the baby turned out to be an earthbender? When the general had assembled the cleaning detail for the prince's cabin, had anyone heard him mention a name for the baby? That mess in the cabin; did normal babies make that much of a mess that quickly? (That was answered with a resounding 'yes' from nearly a dozen throats at once, followed by a round of competitive horror stories about messes their own children had made.) What if the one blue eye meant the baby was half-Water Tribe? What if he turned out to be a waterbender? What if the two different eye colors meant he could bend both earth and water?
"Attention on deck!"
That was almost never heard in the mess hall. Everyone scrambled up out of their seats while whipping around to stare at Akio, who'd leaped to his feet with eyes wide, then whipped around again to stare at what he was staring at: Prince Zuko standing in the doorway, with his uncle by his side, and the baby in his arms.
"Oh, please, sit down; no need to be so formal!" General Iroh said with a smile, making settling gestures with his hands. Prince Zuko didn't say anything, so they slowly and warily sat back down, though no one was quite bold enough to pick up their chopsticks again.
In the sudden silence, the prince glared at them all for a few seconds before saying abruptly, "I've named him Teiji. The baby. His name's Teiji." Then he turned to leave, presumably to head back to his quarters with the baby.
But General Iroh stepped in his way without seeming to do so and said, "Prince Zuko, it occurs to me that since children are so brilliant at making messes when they eat, and the royal quarters have already been scrubbed clean once this afternoon, perhaps it would be more efficient to feed Teiji here in the mess hall."
Zuko stared at his uncle, then glanced around the mess hall almost in a panic. For once, Jee could almost read the boy prince's thoughts; did his uncle want the entire crew to see him trying—and occasionally failing—to spoon-feed the baby?
"Efficiency is important in running a tight ship, after all. You've said so many times yourself," Iroh declared cheerily as he nudged the prince and his charge over to a table in the corner. Jiro and Tadao, who normally sat there, grabbed their food and scrambled out of their seats without being asked, leaving the table to the royals. The galley assistant, who had been right behind the royals, set their dinner tray on the table before bowing and withdrawing.
Jee knew that if the crew continued to stare at that proud prince while he fumbled his way through the feeding, there'd be hell to pay later for every moment of embarrassment. So he picked up his chopsticks again and started loudly talking with Tetsuko about the latest gossip from the colonies, while gesturing for the next table over to start doing the same. Within a few minutes there were at least a dozen reasonably loud, utterly pointless conversations going on all over the mess hall, while everyone discretely kept one eye and ear on the royals' table:
"Open wide, Teiji… Good boy. Isn't that—no, don't spit it out! Oh, come on, it's yummy food; open wide… Open your mouth, Teiji… Look, I'll try some myself; see? It's… yuck! This is so bland it's horrible! No wonder Teiji won't eat it. Why is the cook trying to feed my son this slop?"
"Babies generally can't tolerate the spicy foods we adults enjoy, nephew."
"Well, there's got to be something better than this that he can eat! Here, give me that rice, I know he'll eat that… Look, Teiji, yummy rice! Open wide… there's a good boy! Go ahead, eat it all up… ready for more? Here comes another spoonful… Good boy!"
"A baby will not thrive on rice alone, nephew; you'll have to find a way to get him to eat his vegetables too. But I suppose that can wait for another meal…"
Jee couldn't help smiling as he overheard the conversation; it almost exactly mirrored one he'd had with his wife many years ago. He privately decided that sometime soon, he'd let the new father know about the tricks he'd come up with to get his children to eat their vegetables.
"Didja hear him say 'my son' when he was complaining about the baby food?" Tetsuko murmured to him under cover of conversation. "Agni help us, I think he's serious about keeping this Earth Kingdom kid…"
"Yes, he is. And yes, he heard you," Jee murmured back to her. Tetsuko automatically turned her eyes towards the prince, who met her eyes with his usual fierce glare and a curt nod of acknowledgment; she blushed and dropped her eyes to her dinner.
Jee gave her a lopsided smirk of not-quite-sympathy, before returning to his own dinner. Agni help them, indeed; there would be interesting days ahead…
.
To be continued!