Rating: PG, probably; a tiny bit of violent imagery, but nothing especially explicit. Oh, and also I suppose there's a single use of a swear in here.
Characters/Pairing: This chapter is Lu Ten's mother, aka Iroh's wife, about whom we once again know pretty much nothing in canon. So: OCs and OC/Iroh ahoy, plus some Iroh/Ursa at the end there.
Summary: Some of the missing and/or dead mothers of Avatar: who they might have been, and things they might have done or never did. Each chapter will be sort of its own five-things fic.
Disclaimer: Places and people you recognize from canon are not mine.
Acknowledgements: GIANT THANK-YOU to my sister, for the beautiful art (unfortunately, I can't embed it here!) and the constant nagging. And, of course, to the ladiesbigbang challenge on Dreamwidth, for leading me to actually get off my butt and post fic.
Other Notes: I realize there's got to be something of an age gap for Iroh and Ursa, which may squick some people, but I still kind of ship it now. I mean, if they had been Zuko's parents instead, just think! He would have been so well-adjusted! Anyway, I'm defining "might have been" in this chapter in the sense of "it could have happened in general", not in the sense of "it could have happened and been canon-compliant", since Ursa's in there. Also, I am trying something new with the formatting! Hopefully readability will be improved.
(Five people Lu Ten's mother might have been.)
One:
The first time Iroh meets Mei Ta Sing, she makes no impression whatsoever on him. It is at a banquet - one that was preceded by truly terrible tea, and Iroh was not in an especially charitable mood even before that particular travesty.
Ta Sing is shy and silent and keeps her face averted, her hands in her lap except when she moves to eat, one perfect tiny bite at a time. Her father talks loudly with Azulon, and Iroh rolls his eyes and wishes he were back in his room and could make himself some proper tea, since there is no one interesting at the high table.
.*.
The second time Iroh meets Ta Sing, she is setting things on fire in the garden in the middle of the night.
Not very efficiently, granted; her stance is off in a dozen small ways, and the sweep of her arm lacks confidence, which is probably why only a small dart of flame bursts from her palm to set one of the pearl lilies alight.
"You might want to put that out," Iroh says.
Ta Sing whirls around, paler than the moonlight alone can explain, and says, "Oh - oh, no - I didn't-"
"You should be ashamed," Iroh says, and Ta Sing shrinks back against the stone bench behind her and lowers her eyes.
"Please," she says - whispers, really - "please, don't tell my father I was bending-"
"No, not that," Iroh says. "I mean, of your moves. That was awful." He doesn't say that Lord Mei is an idiot, to let a woman with enough talent to piece together a half-decent bending sequence by herself go without teaching; but he thinks it.
Ta Sing blinks at him. "Oh," she says.
Two:
Kang Mashei eyes him with great skepticism, and takes a delicate sip of her tea. "Are you always this good a conversationalist?" she asks, after several moments of silence.
"Only when I am this sure my time is not being wasted," he says, making sure his smile is polite.
Mashei's eyes narrow. "You are too kind," she says.
Iroh sighs. "Look," he says. "It was - a pleasure to meet you, Kang Mashei, but unless you can occupy me more thoroughly than an Agni Kai ring-"
.*.
Mashei holds her swords with noticeable confidence. Perhaps, Iroh thinks, this will actually be interesting.
.*.
Iroh stares up at the sky and wonders whether his ribs are cracked, or merely bruised.
Mashei smiles down at him, and sheathes her swords. "I may not be a bender," she says, "but that doesn't mean I can't still knock you on your ass."
Iroh huffs out a startled laugh. "Such language, for a lady," he rasps out.
Mashei beams. "I want you to feel comfortable, Prince Iroh," she says - a blatant lie, Iroh remembers the look of glee on her face as she slammed her foot into his kidney. "I assume that is best done by meeting you on your level."
Three:
It takes a very, very long time, to craft a treaty that is acceptable to Ba Sing Se; but Azulon is willing to do it. The war has been losing momentum for the past fifteen years - better to deal while the Fire Nation still has the upper hand, if by a narrow margin.
Coming to terms with the southern islands is even harder. To be fair, they were hit harder, too; the walls of Ba Sing Se were never breached, though Iroh has some vague ideas about how it could have been done, but the southern islands - the southern islands suffered, the southern islands burned.
So it's not a big surprise that they want as solid a guarantee as they can get that it won't ever happen again.
.*.
Her name is Akemi. She is the third daughter of the Earth King; her mother was from the south, and she was sent to the southern islands when she was a little girl, to train as a Warrior of Kyoshi. The perfect choice: she has almost as strong a tie to the south as she does to Ba Sing Se, and they could ask for no one of higher birth.
She seems inclined toward quiet, but she looks Iroh in the eye when the First of the Warriors introduces her, and even though she isn't smiling, there are still small signs of pleasantness in her face. Iroh doesn't think he'll hate her, and that's all Azulon requires.
.*.
She spends most of her time in the palace's many training rooms; it is only natural that Iroh should come to watch her when he has nothing pressing to do. Today, she has only one fan out - a practice one, Iroh guesses, because he can spot no bladed edge. It's interesting to watch; there are jabbing moves that are something like Firebending, but also the occasional longer, curving motion, more like Waterbending than anything else.
She whips her right arm across her body, and Iroh expects her to flare the fan; so it's a surprise when instead the folded fan comes flying toward him. He throws a hand up reflexively to keep it from hitting him in the face, and catches it.
Akemi tilts her head a little, and angles a look at him; then she reaches back into her waistband, and draws out a second practice fan. She switches back to a stance Iroh remembers from a sequence she did relatively early on, and then stops.
Iroh glances at the fan in his hands.
Akemi waits.
.*.
Akemi taps his wrist until he bends it a little further, and then nods. "Close enough," she says. "Next, I'll have to teach you how to put on the makeup."
When Iroh glances at her, startled, she grins.
Four:
Iroh is supposed to be conferring with General Yao over their battle plans for the valley of Sun-Jiang; but when he reaches the command tent of the army that has joined him from the east, General Yao is not there.
"I am An Li," says the woman who is; she doesn't look up, but keeps frowning down at the maps spread across the table.
"Where is General Yao?" Iroh asks, even though he's pretty sure he already knows the answer.
An Li glances at him, then, and gives him a tired, unamused smile. "He got a little too close to a cliff face, and the Earthbenders brought down a rockslide," she says. "So I got a promotion."
.*.
General Yao was a smart man, and a good general; but he was never very flexible. The last time Iroh had to coordinate an assault with him, Iroh spent a lot of time being clapped on the back with a laugh, and told that he had some very funny ideas.
General An, though, is right there with him. Iroh has a bit of a talent for grandiose plans of attack that tend to turn out successfully; but An Li has a talent for adjusting and honing details until those plans are not just grandiose, but magnificent, which Iroh suspects may be the more valuable trait. A mediocre plan tweaked into genius is better than a brilliant plan executed without care.
.*.
Near midnight, they are finally done; but when An Li sits back and sighs, she doesn't look happy. "The twenty-third battalion," she says, staring down at the map.
Iroh glances at the marker with the characters for 23 etched on it; it is in a rather tight spot, but it has to be - it is essential for the fifteenth and sixteenth battalions to attain their positions.
"They probably aren't going to make it out of that alive," An Li says.
"No," Iroh admits. "Probably not." He reaches over and grips her shoulder, so she'll look at him instead of the doomed marker. "It's a good plan," he says. "They will die with honor; there are worse fates."
An Li wraps one hand around his forearm, and looks down at the map for a second; when she looks up again, her face has cleared to something between resignation and acceptance.
Five:
"The granddaughter of the Avatar is always welcome in my court," Azulon says.
Iroh's pretty sure he doesn't mean it, since he's never struck Iroh as particularly respectful of the memory of the last Avatar; but the sentiment is at least polite, if not sincere.
"Thank you," Ursa says, bowing in acknowledgement, and smiles.
.*.
Iroh watches for a bit, in case Ursa needs an avenue of escape; but Ozai is making an effort to be charming, in his own arrogant way, and Ursa seems to appreciate it well enough.
So Iroh is free to take his tea and sidle out onto the balcony, and from there down the steps into the garden.
He is startled a few minutes later, nearly spilling his tea, when Ursa says, "Is it common practice in the capital city, for hosts to sneak out of their own parties?" from a few feet to his left.
"You nearly lost me a very fine cup of ginseng," Iroh says, setting his narrowly-rescued tea down on one end of the bench.
"Goodness, how awful," Ursa says; he can't see her face very clearly, the lighting is poor, but her voice sounds like she's smiling. "I hope you will accept my abject apologies."
"I'll consider it," Iroh says, and slides over a little on the bench.
Ursa takes the tacit invitation for what it is, and sits. "So," she says. "Do welcoming banquets always bore you, or is it just mine?"