Fire
Dangerous, wild
Once started, hard to stop
Heat does things to us, tempers flare
But fire is energy
It is strength
And it is in us all
The tiny flame sat in the wick of the candle, bobbing, flickering with the slightest wind, but never extinguishing. Zuko wouldn't allow it; for with the slightest touch of his fingers, he could relight it. Zuko stared at the flame, the only source of light in the dim room, as he lay on the red, satin sheets. He was exhausted; it had been a long week, yet he couldn't fall asleep.
He thought it could be the ship that he was currently traveling on. It swayed uncomfortably against the pushing waves. Yet, he recalled a time when he had spent years of his life traveling on a ship, looking for the avatar who was now his friend. Surely that could not be the reason. Then he thought it could be the anticipation of his destination. But he had traveled to the Earth Kingdom many times, and visited his Uncle Iroh more times than he could count. No, it couldn't be that.
He rolled over, taking his eyes away from the tiny flame and turning them instead to the empty pillow that lay beside him. Being Firelord, he was constantly traveling from place to place; completing missions, speaking with other rulers…it seemed like a lifetime ago that he felt the warm body of Mai next to him. He only had time to say hello and goodbye, and he was off again, on another mission. But she understood, and it was her suggestion that he visit his uncle while he was there. It had been, after all, two years. He missed her greatly, but it would be good to see his uncle, to make a visit that should have been made years ago.
Iroh wiped the bead of sweat that formed on his brow with the back of his hand. It was turning out to be an awfully warm summer, much to his dismay. He ran a tea shop, and it was hard to serve tea during such warm weather. But he pushed through. He managed to find some ice, and instead of serving it warm, served it cold. It was slow at first, but customers still came. It was a pleasant business, and that was just how Iroh liked it. Especially after the horrid past that he had. He picked up a tray that contained three glasses of cold tea and walked to the front of his humble shop. His customers, a father and two daughters, smiled as he approached, and he warmly returned it.
"One green for the sir, and two jasmines for the lovely young ladies," he said setting down the tea.
"Thank you very much," the father said, accepting the tea.
Iroh felt his warm smile return. "Why, it is my…"
"Iroh!"
Iroh turned quickly to the sound of someone bursting into his shop, and the voice that addressed him. Iroh frowned at the unrecognizable man, silently wondering why someone with such rage would enter his shop.
"Can I help you?" he asked calmly. He was, after all, a wise older man. He had faced things much more dangerous, and over time, had learned to always keep his cool.
"No!" the man growled, his voice low and dangerous, his eyes flashing with rage. "My brother is dead because of you!"
Iroh's frown deepened. He had not killed a man in years, not since from when he was a general. These days, there was no need to kill, now that the war was over and he was running a successful business.
"Surely, I do not know what you talking about," Iroh said, still keeping his voice complacent. "But I'm going to have to ask you to leave my shop, you are disturbing my customers."
The vengeful visitor glanced around the tiny shop, at the tables that a few people occupied. They were all looking at him, some with curiosity, and some with fear. But he felt no compassion for these people. Instead of obeying Iroh, he stepped further into the shop, moving his hateful eyes back to his enemy. He kept his gaze locked on Iroh as he approached him, and within seconds, was only inches away from his face.
"I will not leave!" he said angrily, almost shouting in the older man's face. "Not until I redeem my brother's death. Not until I kill you, General Iroh."
Iroh spoke calmly still, but his voice became increasingly dangerous. "I have not been called by that title in many years. Son, you must be confused. Now leave."
"Sorry old man, but that's not going to happen." With that, he lunged, fist ready and heading towards Iroh with sudden speed. But Iroh was quicker. He dodged at the exact moment, ducking, moving the tables aside for more room.
"Everyone, leave now!" he shouted to the customers, knowing the man would not back down. From the corner of his eye, he could see the various people rushing from the tables and moving towards the entrance.
The man lunged at Iroh again, but Iroh ducked with ease, refusing to lay a hand on him until the innocent people had evacuated. When he saw the final person leave the shop, he turned to his attacker, eyes dangerous.
"Sir, you have crossed the line. I will not tolerate violence and disruption in my shop."
The man glared fiercely at him, and kicked a nearby table, breaking it in two. The teas that rested on top crashed to the ground, the liquid spilling, the cups shattering. The man showed no remorse, he had no sympathy for the destruction he was causing. Death remained in his eyes; it was what he was seeking. Bringing two fingers above him, he waved them in a circle, creating a ring of fire, and brought it dangerously close to Iroh, whose frown deepened at the sight.
"You're a bender," Iroh stated simply.
"There are many things you do not know about me," the man replied, shooting a ball of fire right towards Iroh's face.
Iroh deflected the ball easily, he had had too many thrown his way in his lifetime, and shot one of his own. The man moved out of the way, the flame hit the wall, igniting the picture that lay upon it. The man smirked and ran towards Iroh, fist ready once again. The two danced through the fight, one throwing the other dodging.
"We should really talk about this!" Iroh said avoiding another one of the man's fire balls. "I am certain you have the wrong man!"
"And I am certain you were the one who killed my brother," the man said, his fist finally making contact with Iroh's face. Iroh spiraled, hitting the wall, and before getting the chance to gain composure, the man had his hands around Iroh's throat. He smiled at the situation, his brother's murderer, finally at his own hands. He would get to redeem him. He watched the older man struggle underneath his grasp, but did not dare release him. He raised one hand, creating fire with his moving fingers, and smiled even deeper with satisfaction as he brought it nearer to Iroh…
"Stop!"
The man was jerked by the collar of his shirt and thrown backwards against the opposite wall. As his vision gradually cleared, he could see the one who had attacked him, who had stopped him. It was none other than the Firelord himself, who was now helping the gasping Iroh to his feet. Zuko then rounded on him, and he stood himself up quickly, to be ready to face him.
"What do you think you're doing to my uncle?" Zuko roared, approaching the man with rage thick in his voice.
"Getting revenge," the man snarled.
"What has he ever done to you?"
"He killed my only brother. And now, it looks as if I will have to kill two men."
"Think again," Zuko replied ferociously, fire daggers appearing in his hands. He lunged at the man, and the two fought, moving through the shop. Dodging Zuko's last punch, he moved his hands with skill, forming a fire whip in his hands. He cracked the whip, wrapping it around Zuko's ankle and bringing him down to the hard wood floor.
Zuko used this temporary fall to his advantage. He spun, kicking fire balls at his opponent while bringing himself up on his feet once again. The man dodged the fire flying towards him, moving all different directions, unable to see Zuko's foot approaching him. The man fell to the floor from Zuko's kick, gasping from the wind being knocked out of him.
He lay on the floor, unmoving for a moment, and Zuko waited breathing heavily. But the man was not done yet. He hopped up and lunged at Zuko, fire in his eyes, fire within his very soul. The man looked mad, almost wild. His hair was flailing, his eyes flashing gold and dangerous, his teeth snarled. It shocked Zuko, but he made no motion to back down. He couldn't. But Iroh wanted this to be over.
"Enough of this!" he shouted, grabbing some of the spilled tea from the floor in his palms. He slipped it into his mouth, and seconds later, before the man could grasp what was happening, a large burst of fire flew at him from Iroh's mouth, hitting him square in the chest and knocking him outside onto the pavement. He grunted from the impact and clutched at his newly burned chest. He tried to get himself up, to continue the fight but his burn prevented him. Instead he thrashed about on the street, groaning from a mixture of the pain and failure. Iroh ran outside then, Zuko at his heels, and both men were greeted by the police of the large city. At the sight of Zuko all of them instantly bowed before speaking.
"What happened here? We got a notice," one of them said, eyeing the thrashing man on the ground.
"This man savagely attacked me, my nephew, and destroyed my shop," Iroh said immediately, pointing towards the man who had gotten up and began to run. The police moved with practiced speed, shooting their rock gloves at him and getting a direct hit around his hands. The man fell into the dirt, screaming with rage at his capture.
"You dare attack the Firelord?" one of the policemen asked, walking up to him with a face of disgust. "You've got a lot of trouble in your hands." He waved his hand, and the men started to drag him away, but Iroh spoke up.
"Wait," he said, walking calmly towards the angry man. He growled in his face as Iroh neared him, angry at not just him now, but at the imprisonment that awaited him.
"I am sorry we could not talk things out. But let me just say, if I did kill your brother, I apologize. I was…a different man years ago, and I have done many things that I am not proud of. But people can change. I know I did. I believe in second chances…and I believe you can too."
Iroh stood then, and turned as the man was dragged away. The man said nothing, made no further attempt to attack the former General Iroh. But the fire still stirred in his belly, like an ache. Even if it was years ago, his brother was still dead…because of him.
Iroh walked to Zuko, who was wiping his face with his hands. But sweat or no, he was his nephew, and the older man embraced the younger one in a hug.
"Thank you for coming," he said, finally releasing him.
"Sorry I wasn't here sooner. Who was that man?"
"I have no idea." Iroh shook his head, dismissing the idea, then gave his nephew a warm smile. "Come, we'll have some tea."
The two men turned to the shop, which now lay in ruin. Patches were seen all through the walls, fire still lingered on some parts of the furniture, the ground. Tea cups, kettles, plates were shattered all over the floor, covering it, littering it. Zuko stared at the shop with remorse. If only he had controlled his temper a little better…
"Uncle, I promise to have this repaired as soon as possible," Zuko said immediately.
Iroh said nothing; he walked into his shop and rummaged through the mess until he found an unbroken tea kettle. He heated up the water, and returned with two cups of tea as if nothing wrong had happened only moments ago. A table was still intact, and he sat. Zuko watched him, impressed with how well his uncle was dealing with this. He showed no signs of anger, or distress. He was simply a man who wanted some tea.
"I obviously still need to learn from you," Zuko observed. "How do you always manage to stay so calm?" he questioned, joining him at the table and taking one of the cups. He brought it to his lips; delicious, as always.
Iroh chuckled. "It depends on how you see things. I see this as an opportunity to rebuild, redecorate, make my shop better than it has been before. Also, I get a visit from my only nephew? I'd say today is not so bad."
Zuko smiled at his uncle and drank deeply. A stray flame flickered on the corner of the table, but neither man took notice. That flame was not a threat, it only added to the peace that was already surrounding them.