I always had the impression that Iroh was a stud when he was younger :P (especially if he looked anything like Isaia draws him on dA). So, here's chapter four. I like this chapter, personally. If you like it too, please review! Kudos to Celestial Secrets for reviewing every chapter so far. Have a cookie! hands cookie Heheh. Enjoy this chapter!

Chapter Four

"Uncle? Are you awake?"

Iroh heard a distant voice talking to him, a voice that became clearer with every passing second. He opened his eyes only to have them rest upon the visage of Fire Lord Zuko. Except he did not know it was Zuko.

"Yes, I am awake. And why did you call me Uncle?"

"I meant, uh …" Zuko stuttered, knowing it would pain him to call Iroh anything but Uncle. "I meant brother."

"Of course you did, Ozai." Iroh said, struggling a little bit as he propped himself up into a sitting position on his bed once more. He looked around the room, which was very empty except for the presence of himself and his nephew.

"Where is Maylin?" he asked. "I thought you said you were going to get her from the garden."

"I tried to, Unc- um, brother." Zuko said, breaking the eye contact he had made with his uncle. "But when I got there she wasn't there. The guards said she had gone out to the market for the day. With Ursa," he added, wondering if his aunt and mother were very close.

"Oh, with Ursa?" he said, looking rather tired despite the nap he had just taken. "I suppose they'll have a good time. They always did."

Zuko's eyes shimmered, because of both love for his uncle and the tears that threatened to fall. "Do you think Ursa and Maylin were, um, are very close?" he asked, realizing how he could get information out of Iroh without making it sound like Maylin was dead.

"Oh, maybe not so close. At least, not as close as her and I. You know how the relationship can be between husband and wife, Ozai." Iroh said. Zuko did a half-smile, hoping his uncle wouldn't launch into a long conversation where he actually asked the Fire Lord questions assuming he was Ozai.

"Yes," Zuko said, hoping to spur him into more talking. "But are they good friends?"

"Yes, I believe so," Iroh said, nodding his head. "Maylin is like an older sister to Ursa, since her own sisters didn't always act so sisterly towards her."

Zuko nodded, knowing the feeling all too well.

Iroh paused before continuing. "Are you sure she's gone to the market? I could have sworn I was just with her in the garden now, by the turtle-duck pond."

"Yes, I'm sure." Zuko said.

"We'd just stolen some sweets from the kitchen. That old chef got so mad at us …" he said, chuckling. "But he never used that butcher knife on us like he said he would. He was an old and bitter man, but he wouldn't hurt a spider-fly."

Zuko smiled, realizing that Uncle Iroh was recounting tales that had actually happened in his life time as if they had just happened yesterday. He found it ironic that his short term memory was going fast, but his long term memory was still very much in tact.

"Did you … Do you do that often with Maylin?" he asked gently. "I mean, steal the desserts?"

"Yes, we used to all the time when we were much younger. I've known her since she was four, you know, Ozai. You wouldn't remember though. I was already fifteen when you were born."

"Of course," Zuko said. "Why did you meet when she was four? You were … six weren't you?" Zuko said, doing the quick math in his head as he remembered that the age difference between Iroh and his wife was two years.

"Yes, I was. We met because our mothers were best friends. Zhen. Yes, Zhen is her mother's name. Zhen is a nice lady." He sighed. "And then there's Zhou Han."

"Who is he again?" Zuko said, trying to make it sound like he simply forgot.

"Maylin's brother. He's three years older than me. He is a bully. There was that time I fought him … oh, but you remember that, right? I mean, you weren't even born yet. But I told the tale to you many times to put you to sleep at night. Interesting how the fighting stories always seemed to soothe you best …"

Zuko cleared his throat. "Uh, yes, I remember it well." He lied. "Listen, brother," Zuko said. "Maybe you should … go back to sleep. I need to … attend to … some war issues." The words he said were so fake, so obviously a lie, that Zuko was surprised Iroh believed him.

"I'm sure you do," he said gently. "I'll see you in the morning." Iroh turned on his side, but didn't close his eyes. He wasn't so physically tired that he wanted to go to sleep, he was more mentally tired, like he just wanted to lay back and relax for a while.

Zuko stared out at the mid-morning sun, wondering if the relapse in his memory had caused his uncle to become unaware of the time of day as well. Zuko started walking out of the room when he heard his uncle talking to seemingly no one.

"It's okay, Maylin, I can take him. It shouldn't be too hard. You just sit on the side and watch, I'll be okay."

The Fire Lord quickly exited the room, not wanting to listen to his uncle's conversation with people that existed only in his memories. It hurt too much to see him fade.

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"Don't be stupid Iroh! He's three years older than you and a foot taller!" Maylin pulled on Iroh's sleeve, trying to convince him not to fight Zhou Han. "I don't want you to get hurt!"

"It's your brother you should be worrying about!" Iroh said, taking off his shirt as he readied himself for the fight against Zhou Han.

"He's been taking firebending lessons ever since he was two, Iroh! That's eleven whole years!"

"And I've been taking them since I was two, also. That's eight whole years."

Maylin crossed her arms in indignation. "I'm glad you can do arithmetic, Iroh. But that's still three more years than you've been doing firebending for."

"Looks like you can do arithmetic, too, Maylin." he said, not looking her in the face as he started doing his breathing. Breathe in … breathe out. Separate and concentrate the energy in your body. Let it flow … He recited the steps in his head mentally as he did them physically.

"Iroh, look at me!" She grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him around, forcing him to stare into her big brown eyes. "Zhou Han doesn't play fair. He'll cheat. I know you, Iroh. You're an honorable person. Please, don't go up against him. You can't win."

"I know I can," Iroh said stubbornly. "I've got more skill in one arm than he does in his whole body."

"It has nothing to do with talent or skill." She said. "He'll cheat. He won't play by the rules. Anything that you think is dirty and rotten, he'll do."

"Thanks for the tip." he said, looking back in her eyes. "I'll keep a lookout for any tricky moves." He continued to look at her, waiting for an answer. She finally sighed, signaling that she had given in.

"Alright," she said, brushing his shoulder off. "Just be careful."

His expression softened as he looked at her. "I will." He turned to start walking away. "Oh!" he said, as if he suddenly remembered something. He handed her his shirt. "Can you hold this for me? And, can you not tell my mother? If she finds out, she'll get really mad at me."

She took his shirt in her hands, not saying anything. "Thanks," he said, giving her his prize winning smile that always seemed to make her go all soft on him. He walked away confidently, and she observed his bare back and arms, realizing that when he got older, he would have some nicely shaped muscles. Looking down at the shirt she held in her hands, she lifted it up and buried her face in it. She took in a deep breath, letting it out contentedly a few seconds later. It smelled just like him.

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"Oh, so you actually showed up?" Zhou Han said mockingly when he saw Iroh approaching the ring he'd drawn in the dirt. A lot of kids were already there, crowded a few feet outside of the circle.

"Yes, I did," Iroh said. "I see you decided to show up a well." He observed the kids of various ages that had gathered. "And you brought an audience."

"That doesn't bother you, does it?" Zhou Han said, his eyes full of cockiness.

"No," Iroh said lightly. "Although I wouldn't be surprised if it bothered you."

"Of course it doesn't, idiot!" Zhou Han said, lashing out at Iroh. He looked like he wanted to beat him up right then and there, but he refrained himself. "Now, there are going to be some rules to this fight."

"Rules," Iroh said, pretending to dwell on the matter. "Oh! You mean, rules you intend to break?"

Zhou Han tightened his already clenched fists, and locked his jaw. "If you follow the rules, shrimp, then I'll follow the rules. Simple as that."

"Shrimp?" Iroh said, pretending to be amused. "Is that the best name you can come up with?"

"It suits you well," Zhou Han replied, shifting the dirt beneath his feet with his toes. "Seeing as my little sister's taller than you, even though she's two years younger!" The crowd of children tried to suppress their giggles, and Zhou Han looked around at them when he realized they were laughing, becoming even more full of himself.

"I'm not taller than him!" A voice said from the crowd. Everybody turned to look; their eyes rested upon a dark eyed, dark haired girl sitting to the right of Iroh outside the ring. He gave her a half smile and she smiled back, picking up her hand that was buried in his shirt to wave at him.

"Oh great," Zhou Han said. "My own flesh and blood, come to root for the enemy." He turned and started yelling at Maylin. "What are you doing here Maylin? Come to cheer for your boyfriend?" He teased. The kids laughed loudly, and Zhou Han smiled, confident that the audience was now on his side.

"Look," Iroh said, his voice taking on a demanding tone. "We can sit here all day throwing insults at each other, or we can start this fight!"

"For once, I'd have to agree with you." Zhou Han said. He cleared his throat and started talking loudly, to make sure the whole audience could hear him. "The rules are as follows: rule number one, whoever leaves the ring is disqualified, whether he walks out or is forced out by his opponent. Rule number two, no firebending." Iroh gave him a funny look, as if to question why not, and Zhou Han answered by saying, "I could get into all kinds of trouble for burning the Fire Lord's son," he said tauntingly. "Not that I'm scared of you, but I wouldn't want your Father to come running when he hears I beat the chi out of you."

Iroh clenched his teeth but refrained from throwing back another insult. "Just state the rules."

"Rule number three: if someone remains on the floor for ten seconds, as the audience counts it, his opponent wins. And the final rule … no help from any audience members. It results in instant disqualification. You got that, shrimp?"

"I heard you," Iroh said. "It's kind of hard not to, big mouth," he muttered to himself.

"Okay, then," Zhou Han said, taking a stance. Iroh did as well. "Audience, on the count of three …"

The audience eagerly started chanting. "One, two, three, go!"

Iroh waited a second as he observed Zhou Han. He started inching his way to the left, so Iroh started circling him to the right. Iroh let Zhou Han approach him until he was within attacking distance. The older boy suddenly kicked out, his foot headed straight for Iroh's chest. He quickly ducked, and stuck out his leg in the process, hooking Zhou Han's ankle with his foot, causing him to fall down. Iroh stood back up quickly as he waited for Zhou Han to get up, barely even noticing the loud cheers of the audience.

"You think you're so great," Zhou Han said, only loud enough for the two of them to hear. "Just because you're the heir to the throne," he said through clenched teeth. "Well, let's see how it feels when I beat you!"

"Gimme your best shot," Iroh said, waiting for the blow to happen. Zhou Han took him up on his offer, releasing several punches in a row. However, Iroh dodged all of them by simply jumping to the side and proceeding to punch him twice in the back while he was still at it. Zhou Han stumbled forward, almost out of the ring, but kept his balance and turned back around to continue the fight. The audience was going crazy by now, convinced that it was simply a matter of time before Iroh won.

Zhou Han started wildly attacking, throwing out a series of punches and kicks. He was now so desperate to win that his concentration was waning, so it was easy for Iroh to dodge or block all of the blows Zhou Han had to offer. One particularly high kick, however, did manage to hit him in the chin, causing Iroh to stumble backwards. Zhou Han took advantage of the situation and lunged toward Iroh.

The young prince recovered quickly though, and hurriedly grabbed Zhou Han's arm, twisting it and causing him to fall to the ground in pain. Iroh dropped his weight on top of the boy, determined to keep him there for ten seconds. The audience started counting. "Ten, nine, eight …"

At the seven second mark, Zhou Han looked into Iroh's determined eyes and returned the gaze with a mischievous stare. Iroh faltered for a second, remembering Maylin's warning of the boy's tendency to cheat. Sure enough, Iroh watched horrified as Zhou Han produced a small flame and brought it closer and closer to Iroh's body. Thinking that maybe he could still beat him by the time count, Iroh remained solid, tuning into the audience's chants just in time to hear them say, "Five, four, three…"

But it was too late. The flame was dangerously close to Iroh's chest, and he could feel the heat of the fire threatening to penetrate his skin. He involuntarily jumped up and clutched his chest, watching as Zhou Han immediately stood up and the crowd stopped counting. Several audience members booed, since Iroh had seemingly jumped up for no reason, but a few cheered, still hoping that Zhou Han would win.

Iroh's expression toward the older boy, who now wore a malicious grin on his face, hardened deeply, and he pulled his fist back in blind fury, striking the unsuspecting boy right in the mouth. He fell back, bleeding profusely, his head obviously protruding out from the circle. The crowd jumped up and cheered, and several girls Iroh's age ran to his side. A few of Zhou Han's friends approached him to make sure he was okay, but most of the attention was focused on Iroh.

"You're so strong!" one girl mused, reaching her hand out to his bare arm. "Can I feel your muscle?"

"Uh, sure," he said, flexing his arm.

"Ooh," she cooed when he did so, her face blushing a deep red.

"Iroh, you're my hero!" Another girl called out, determined for him to take notice of her. All at once everyone started shouting compliments in his direction, the girls asking him to flex his arms so they could see how strong he was. He smiled cockily, willing to give in to all the attention.

One little girl stood on the sidelines, not having moved from the spot she originally sat in. "Iroh!" she called out, unsure if he could hear her or not. He didn't look at her, but rather walked away with the crowd of girls that was hovering around him. Her arms dropped to her side, and she looked dejectedly at her feet. "I have your shirt …"