Disclaimer: I don't own any of them. If I did, my house would definitely be bigger, and my TV would be a flat screen…oh well, a girl can dream can't she.
Chapter 2
Iroh brought Zuko his informal robes, which he grudgingly pulled on wincing as the ache in his chest made itself known. Iroh stood in front of Zuko unwavering in his determination to make his nephew see reason. Gently gripping his shoulders he forced Zuko to meet his gaze.
"No Zuko, you have given everything for your people. You have given up your family, your personal ties, and now it seems, your very health on this quest to raise the Fire Nation out of the ashes of your ancestor's folly. You have done all of this with impeccable honor and decency, not only to the Fire Nation, but to the other nations as well. If anyone has failed, it is I. I have failed to watch over you as I should, and save you from yourself. No more. You have given enough Fire Lord Zuko. You have hidden long enough alone with your pain and suffering. Now we will do something about it. Your nation is now more healthy and whole than it has been in a century. It is time its Fire Lord was the same."
Zuko looked down at his uncle with a mixture of relief and for the first time in a long time…hope. "Of course uncle" he said wryly a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth "if that is what you think is best."
Iroh rolled his eyes, because underneath it all Zuko really was still sometimes just a lost young man trying to find his way, and he secretly loved it when Iroh fussed over him like the father he never had. "Of course it is for the best; now get inside before you get any other smart ideas, like sleeping on the beach for another night." Zuko bowed his head and let out a sharp, mirthless laugh. "Trust me uncle sleeping on the beach, as you so mildly put it, was not in my plans last night either." They reentered Zuko's room and he eyed the tray that had been brought in by the servants while they were on the balcony. It was a light, simple meal of savory juk with an egg in it and sliced firefruit on the side. His stomach growled in appreciation, and he realized he had not eaten since yesterday afternoon. "Thank you uncle" he said indicating the tray, knowing Iroh had picked it especially for him. "It is nothing Zuko, but the first step toward getting you whole and healthy again." Zuko began eating in earnest pausing only to voice a question as it came to him. "Uncle, do you have a plan?" Iroh looked at him levelly, his dark amber eyes meeting his nephews golden ones. "No Zuko, I do not have a plan…but I do have ideas." Zuko nodded at him, his face a mask bereft of any emotion, but his eyes still held the tiniest glimmer of hope. As long as his uncle had ideas, then maybe there was a way out of this nightmare after all.
The next morning Iroh made it a point to be down at the beach at sunrise, and he wasn't disappointed. Zuko had beat him down the to the water's edge, but not by much, as his dual swords still sheathed across his back. He looked up as his uncle made himself comfortable on a nearby boulder.
"Uncle?"
"Continue Zuko. It has been quite a while since I have observed what you are capable of."
Zuko bowed, and began. He started slowly with stretches and basic hand to hand forms, letting his aching muscles warm up in the crisp dawn air. Then he began to speed up, as his mind shut down and his body took over. Iroh watched with ever - increasing interest. The initial forms he knew by heart, and had taught many of them to Zuko during their exile together. Suddenly it all changed. Zuko stopped, took a deep breath, and unsheathed his beloved swords in one fluid motion and moved quickly through forms that Iroh had never seen. He watched, rapt as the increasingly complex forms flowed as smoothly as water from his nephew's wasted body. Zuko finished the final Kata, sheathed his swords, and bowed deeply to the now risen sun. He turned to his uncle with a smile on his face and froze. General Iroh, Dragon of the West, was standing now, staring at him with a look of pure amazement. Then, to Zuko's horror, Iroh crossed his right arm over his chest; dropped to one knee and bowed deeply…the greatest sign of respect and fealty a warrior could show for another.
"What! Uncle, no! Really there's no need for…" Zuko sputtered, and to his added horror, Zuko realized he was turning pink to the tips of his ears, oh sweet Agni! Fire Lord's did not blush!
Iroh looked up at him, his amber eyes calm and calculating. "Fire Lord Zuko, once again I have underestimated the warrior, the man you have become. Rest assured that will not happen again."
Zuko drew himself up to his full height and looked down his nose at his uncle imperiously. "See that it doesn't." he drawled in his best Fire Lord voice. He held it for one second…two, and then he couldn't take it anymore and he doubled over laughing.
Iroh stood easily and watched his nephew, a small smile on his lips, his eyes full of sadness. This was the man his nephew should have been, this was the gentle easygoing soul that he rarely saw, the one that hid behind the masks. How long had it been since he had heard Zuko laugh? Iroh waited until Zuko had finished before carefully asking "where did you learn such skill with a sword my nephew?"
"On my tour of the islands uncle, I stayed with Master Piandao for three months to hone my skills. When I departed he said I was a great swordsman, a natural. Of course I told him I was taught by the best swordsman, by the best man I had ever known." Zuko eyed him keenly and Iroh felt his heart swell with pride and love for his nephew. "Thank you, my nephew…"
"It was nothing but the truth uncle" Zuko replied easily turning toward him. Iroh was shocked to see the raw pain and anger on Zuko's face as he took one step, then two and collapsed to his knees gasping and clutching his chest. Clutching, Iroh saw with some horror and the beginnings of real fear, the scar where he had absorbed his sister's lightning bolt. Rushing to Zuko's side he helped his nephew to his feet and admonished gently "Zuko, you should not be out here doing forms in your condition." Zuko snarled and pulled away. "And what exactly is my condition?" he ground out in frustration, fists clenched at his sides. For a moment he looked like the angry teenager from long ago. Then he closed his eyes, took a deep breath and visibly concentrated on relaxing. When he opened his eyes again, they were calm and focused. "Uncle, please understand these forms are the only thing keeping me sane right now. I've lost everything, but as long as I have my swords and my wits…well I hope I can get through this." Iroh nodded his understanding.
Iroh put an arm around Zuko's waist and gently herded his charge up the stone steps. "Come Zuko, we must make preparations."
"Preparations for what Uncle?" Zuko asked with some surprise in his voice.
"For your departure." Iroh replied, and before Zuko could object, Iroh calmly faced his nephew and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Fire Lord Zuko, you told me you have exhausted the resources of the Fire Nation searching for a cure for your ailment. Well it seems to me that there are two other nations out there that might have some clue as to what is going on. Thanks to you, and your ceaseless efforts towards peace, now is the best time for you to go. I have contacted my brethren in the Order of the White Lotus across the nations, they will know what is happening and they will search for any clues in their histories. I have also contacted the wisest amongst us, and hopefully he will be here in a week or so to take you to the North Pole, and to the best healers in the known world. This is my plan Fire Lord Zuko; I can only hope that somewhere along the way we are successful, and that you are healed."
Zuko stared at his uncle, his mind reeling. All of these arrangements, he must have made them while I was sleeping! Zuko hung his head in shame. Seeing this Iroh asked gently "what is it my nephew?"
"I'm sorry Uncle. Maybe if I had come to you sooner, it wouldn't have gotten this bad."
"Your apology is accepted. Now, let's get some breakfast…and tea!"
The next week and a half was spent in a flurry of activity as arrangements were made for Fire Lord Zuko's departure. Iroh was increasingly involved with the affairs of State, tying up loose ends and delegating increasingly complex tasks to Zuko's most trusted advisors. In his opinion this should have happened a long time ago, but his nephew had a pesky habit of bearing the full weight of the crown, including its many responsibilities on his shoulders alone. Zuko noticed gradually what his uncle was doing, and was secretly grateful for it. With his advisors and officials carrying their own weight and Iroh managing them, Zuko, for the first time in his young reign had moments to himself, to breath, to meditate, and to confront the fear that had been filling him for the past year.
Iroh knocked gently on the doors to Zuko's private chambers, and slowly made his way inside carrying a bundle of black cloth. His gaze found Zuko hunched over the small washbasin in the corner. Clad once again in his linen pants, Iroh was painfully aware of how much his nephew had suffered in his young life, how much he was still suffering. Zuko had not noticed or acknowledged his entrance, so he lay the bundle on the bed and padded over to the basin, placing a hand on Zuko's shoulder. Feeling the minute tremors wracking Zuko's exhausted frame he slowly turned Zuko to face him. The glazed look in Zuko's eyes, coupled with the pale sheen of sweat coating his torso frightened Iroh more than he thought possible.
"Zuko." Iroh said, and then more forcefully "Zuko!" when it became apparent that Zuko was still looking through him. He gently grasped Zuko's face and made his nephew's golden gaze meet his own. "What is it my nephew?" Zuko slowly came back to him, his eyes gaining awareness. "Uncle" Zuko rasped, his voice distant "I'm…I'm dying aren't I?" Iroh was momentarily speechless, and then the fire in him that made him the Dragon of the West reared in his mind, and in his heart.
"Nephew, hear me well – You are a fighter, you always have been and you always will be. You have been through much, too much in your young life to give up now. I once knew a boy who would go to the ends of the earth, chasing a myth, for something as intangible as honor." Zuko closed his eyes and bowed his head.
"Uncle, I know I started that journey for all the wrong reasons, but after some painful lessons, I hope I've done things for the right reasons…for my people, for my country, for the other nations. I just…I don't know how many more painful lessons I have in me." Zuko walked over and sat heavily on the edge of the bed, hunched over and hid his face in his hands. He couldn't imagine living with this pain for the rest of his life, as well as the uncertainty of when another attack would happen. He was confident it was no longer a matter of if, but when the next attack would strike and bring him retching to his knees. True, he was a fighter, and he knew he would battle to his last gasping breath if need be, but he also perversely found himself wishing for that last breath, that end to the pain, to be sooner rather than later. It was confusing at the best of times, heartbreaking at the worst. Iroh saw his nephew's desolation and his heart ached. No! He thought fiercely! I won't lose Zuko too!
"You must live Zuko" Iroh ground out, his voice gravely with emotion. "For so many reasons that we cannot even see. You must live to reap the rewards of this lasting peace you are creating here. You must live because your people love you and need you, as I love and need you."
"Uncle" Zuko looked up his eyes bright, throat constricted against unshed tears.
"But most of all, my nephew, you must live for you, and for all the wonders your future holds. For the love your future holds." Iroh pulled the speechless Fire Lord to his feet and pressed the bundle into his hands. "That is why you must leave tonight."
Zuko looked at the bundle of soft black cloth and slowly unrolled it, his mind whirling with memories, good and bad as he slowly revealed a new duangua, so similar to the one he had in his days of banishment, his days as the Blue Spirit, that he knew his uncle had had it made from memory. The supple cloth almost felt like coming home as he pulled on the pants and tied the tunic around his waist. His heart pounding as Iroh looked on he went to a chest in the corner of the room and opened it slowly. On the top lay his harness sheath, specifically made for his dual swords he pulled it on with the ease of much practice. He removed some other frequently used articles of clothing, placing them gently on the floor until he was almost to the bottom of the chest. His soft black leather boots, shin and wrist braces were there, wrapped carefully in oilcloth to keep them supple. He had kept everything in excellent condition, because if his banishment had taught him anything it was that one never knew when one would be battling for one's life. He snorted as he pulled the boots on. I really am fighting for my life this time he mused, the thought sobering him. Except this time it wasn't an enemy he could see or hear or touch. He closed his eyes and breathed, trying to center himself while his hands busily tied on his wrist braces like he had worn them yesterday, when in fact it had been years. Even the smell of the old worn leather brought back memories of his banishment, and the journeys that brought him to the Avatar. He rose slowly to his feet and walked over to where his dual swords were displayed on the wall and took them down with some reverence. These swords had saved his life more times than he could count; maybe they had one more in them. He sheathed them smoothly on his back and turned to his uncle. "Now what?" he asked calmly, knowing full well that Iroh had a plan, since he had arrived with Zuko's clothes in hand.
"Follow me, Fire Lord Zuko, and we will meet our guest on the beach." Iroh bowed and walked out the back door to the balcony and headed toward the white sands far below. They traversed the stone stairway in silence. So this is it, Zuko thought. He was finally setting out on his journey that may very well be his last and he had no idea who he was traveling with. He assumed he would be going by ship, since that was the fastest way to the North Pole, but even so the journey took weeks. Did he have weeks? Would he survive the next full moon, which was a scant two and half weeks away? The last one had been the worst so far, and thinking back on it made his chest ache. He truly didn't know how much more he could take. All these thoughts and more raced through his mind as they stepped out onto the cool starlit sand. Strangely, there was no ship in sight, nor were there any smaller boats pulled ashore waiting for them. As his confusion mounted, Zuko opened his mouth to speak, and promptly shut it again after taking in his uncle's visage. Iroh stood calmly with his hands tucked into his sleeves and his eyes half closed…waiting. So Zuko decided to mirror him. He relaxed his stance, took a deep breath…and waited patiently next to his uncle.
Zuko calmed and centered his thoughts, emptied his mind and focused on his breath. In and out, much like the steady waves on the shore, in and out. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his other senses. The smell and taste of the briny sea air filled his nose and mouth. He felt the cool breeze against his fevered skin. He listened to the sounds of the waves on the beach, the winds whistling across the cliffs higher up. The sense of his uncle's warm presence at this side reassured him. He thought about what his uncle had said, about living for his people, for his uncle, and for…love. He didn't know what to make of this last statement. He had been so busy rebuilding the Fire Nation that his own health had become secondary, what use did he have for love? Not that it stopped the Baron's and Noblemen from presenting their eligible daughters to him at the tedious state dinners he was forced to attend. And he was always polite, if indifferent. The women were beautiful and yet…Zuko shuddered. Most had grown up accustomed to life at court, so they were either bored and submissive, or worse, they were manipulative and scheming. The latter reminded him too much of his sister, the former of Mai. His uncle had spoken only once of possibly arranging a union for Zuko, and once Iroh's eyebrows had grown back the subject had never been mentioned again. Zuko didn't know what he wanted or needed with love, but he was certain he wouldn't find it at his court. That his uncle would bring up the subject now, when it seemed like love was the least of his concerns puzzled Zuko. But he had long ago accepted that his uncle was a much wiser man than he, especially when it came to feelings and matters of the heart. So he took his uncle's advice seriously and tucked it away for further pondering later. If I have a later, he mused darkly. Focusing, he centered himself again, cleared his thoughts…in and out…in and out.
Some time later, Zuko didn't really know how long, he came back to himself because he thought he had heard something. Something was…different. The wind shifted directions and there, on the very edge of his perception, more felt than heard, a deep bass rumble. He opened his eyes. That sound, so familiar, and yet he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He turned "Uncle…wha…?" Zuko broke off and they both crouched low, looking straight up at the same time as the sound roared overhead and a great beast flew over the cliffs above their heads. It veered in a graceful arc and came to rest on the beach not twenty paces away. Zuko's mind was blank with shock, even as he mouthed "Appa?" soundlessly. Wild eyed he looked at his uncle, begging him silently to…to what?
Iroh took pity on Zuko and gently grasped his arm, calming Zuko with a look. "It saddens me greatly Zuko, to know that you would give anything, even your life, for your people, for your friends. And yet when we would do the same for you, you are always surprised. Zuko you have friends that care about you. Is it so remarkable that they would want to help you in your time of need?" Zuko nodded uncomprehendingly. "But uncle, you said…you said the wisest of us would be taking me north?" Iroh's eyes held a trace of mirth in them as he answered "and who is wiser, Fire Lord Zuko, than the Avatar?" Understanding slowly dawned on Zuko's face as they turned to face Appa.
Aang leapt lightly from Appa's saddle and strode across the white sand. Zuko noticed the changes in him as he walked. Aang stopped a few paces away and bowed low. "Fire Lord Zuko, General Iroh." Iroh bowed back. "Avatar Aang." Zuko simply stared at this man, his friend. He was tall and lean like his ancestors, with a perfect balance to his gait that implied he was made for fighting, or dancing on the wind. He dressed much the same as he always had in his orange and yellow sash, but the cloth was a finer thicker material. His shoulders had broadened, and his jaw was stronger but what Zuko noticed the most were his eyes. They were…ancient, and yet they were still Aang. While Zuko carried the weight of the Fire Nation, Aang carried the weight of the world. Yet he seemed so…alive. He carried more than a few scars of his own, but he still vibrated with that energy that was so…Aang. Aang straightened up and grinned uncertainly at him, his warm grey eyes filling with concern. "Zuko?" Hearing his name on Aang's lips broke something loose in Zuko; he nodded dumbly and held out his right arm. Aang stepped forward and grasped Zuko's forearm tightly with his own, and then pulled him in to a powerful embrace. Zuko realized with some surprise that Aang was just as tall as him now. "You came." Zuko mumbled into his friend's shoulder. "I didn't even think about you coming." Aang pulled back and gripped his shoulders tightly, almost painfully, his grey eyes searching Zuko's golden ones. "Zuko," he whispered softly, "What's happened to you?"