Title: Blood, Silk, and Steel
Rating: T, although the rating may go up.
Warnings: All the usual suspects.
Disclaimer: Um, this is fanfiction. Hopefully you realize that this means I own nothing you recognize here.
Author's Notes:
My formatting fot all screwed up during the upload. Will fix later.
This was a hard chapter to write. I tried to keep the writing clearer, although I'll admit that I left some things ambiguous for you to ponder. Still, I have to say I'm as pleased as I could be, given what happens in the chapter. So, without further ado, I'll allow you to make your minds up for yourselves on:
-Chapter Seven-
"What time is it?" Iroh asked a guard.
"Seven fifty eight," he answered.
Iroh nodded and sighed. "Well then, my nephew will be here shortly," he said. "Would you care for some more tea?" he asked the guard.
The guard smiled and nodded, but then caught himself and answered aloud: "Yes my Lord." The guard poured two more cups of tea and handed one to the General. Iroh brought the cup to his lips and inhaled the tea's vapor. At least this joy he still had, he thought happily as he drank the hot tea. It seemed to him that he could taste and smell the tea better now, so maybe some good had come of the whole affair.
By the time Azulon's son was halfway done with his tea a second guard entered the room to announce the arrival of Prince Zuko.
"Well then!" Iroh exclaimed happily, getting up and putting the cup of tea down on the table, "Show my nephew in." The second guard nodded and opened the doors. Iroh heard a third set of footsteps approach and smiled under the bandages. "Good morning Prince Zuko; I hope your night was restful."
The first guard opened his mouth to protest but a single glance from the third figure's golden eyes shut him up. The second guard opened his mouth, "Prince Zuko has lost his voice."
"Oh, well in that case Prince Zuko, get some rest, I can have the guards help me, or else do it some other day."
The second guard looked for approval from the young noble. It did not come, only a slight, yet determined shake of the head. "No, the doctors say Prince Zuko is fine; simply he overtaxed his voice yesterday. As long as he does not speak he will be fine. Prince Zuko will simply write down anything he needs to say for us to read," said the second guard.
"Very well," Iroh agreed, "In that case, take better care of yourself Prince Zuko, and follow me." Iroh heard Zuko's footsteps approaching him, probably to guide him, but raised his hand to stop his nephew. "Let me see if I can manage Prince Zuko." The footsteps stopped and Iroh began to walk slowly and deliberately in the direction where he remembered the door would be.
The work was tedious and repetitive. Paintings, scrolls, tapestries, and sculptures had to be removed from the walls, rolled or wrapped, put into boxes and taken down into storage. However under Iroh's directions and with the help of the combined contingent of body guards the work managed to move quickly. By mid-morning all the really difficult pieces were put away and Iroh insisted on breaking for tea. The drink was prepared for the two nobles and their body guards. "More tea Prince Zuko?" Iroh asked, moving his hand to lift up the tea pot, but the first guard stopped him.
"Please General Iroh, certainly you don't want to burn yourself again."
"Fine, fine. Could you please pour me another cup Prince Zuko?" Another cup was poured and handed to Iroh who drank it with pleasure. "You should drink more tea as well Prince Zuko; the tea will do your throat good." Again a cup was poured.
When there was no more tea the work resumed. It went more easily than before and by lunchtime it seemed that the entirety of the work was done. "Will you and your new friends do me the honor of joining me for lunch?" Iroh asked hopefully.
His companion however took a brush to paper and wrote out the reply: "I'm terribly sorry Uncle, but I told Father I would eat with him today."
Iroh sighed. "Yes, yes," he said, mustering up as much self-pity as he could in his voice. "I understand, you and my brother have business to attend to, and besides, a boy and his father should spend time together. Go, go ahead Prince Zuko. You've been a tremendous help to me today. The guards and I will finish up the study after I eat." A chair was pushed back and Iroh heard footsteps walking away from him. "Yes," he said, "I'll just sit here, by myself, and eat, by myself…in the dark…by myself." The footsteps stopped. "Why are you stopping Prince Zuko? I thought you were going to meet with the Fire Lord."
"I've changed my mind," a guard read aloud. "I'll send word to Father that I'll meet him later."
"No, no," Iroh argued, "you shouldn't disappoint the Fire Lord on my account. Your poor old Uncle certainly doesn't want to be a burden.
Iroh heard a sigh and then the delicate sound of paper rustling. The guard read again: "It's no trouble at all Uncle, Father will understand."
"Well, if you say so…" Iroh said sheepishly, although inwardly he was grinning brightly. Score another point for the advantages of being blind: now he could more easily guilt his crazy relatives into doing what he wanted!
Lunch was served and the nobles sat down as their guards watched. The meal was delicious and Iroh enjoyed it tremendously. "I'll have to send my compliments to the cook," he said happily. "This roast duck is astounding." Zuko made no reply and Iroh continued to talk. "Do you remember Music Night, when we were on the ship. How you hated music night; you hated everything about that ship didn't you? And who could blame you? But you were always unfair to Music Night. We should get the old crew together and hold another Music Night; you could play the sungi horn.
"Oh, I know you hate playing the sungi horn Prince Zuko, but you do play it very well, and well, Music Night without the sungi horn isn't really Music Night." Suddenly Iroh began to hum, and then the humming became full fledged singing: "Winter, spring, summer, and fall—four seasons, four loves." Some of the guards even joined in, but Iroh's companion simply sat there silently eating the roast duck.
Finally, after desert and several cups of tea Iroh was done eating. He got up, signaling to the guards to stay put. "Now my friends," he started, "I'm going to ask that you stay outside while Prince Zuko and I pack up my study."
"Sir, that is completely out of the question!" protested the head guard at once, but Iroh simply smiled under the bandages.
"I understand that you have my best interests at heart, but there are objects of great personal value to me there, and as much as I like you all, I would rather preserve the sanctity of my inner sanctum. Besides, there is only one way in or out of the room, and as long as you guard the doors on the outside, my nephew and I should be safe enough on the inside."
"But, General Iroh!"
"No. I have spoken my will, and my will shall be done," and there it was: the legendary voice of the Pride of Azulon.
"Very well," the head guard finally agreed, "but at the slightest sound of a disturbance my men and I shall break the doors down."
"Agreed, but I doubt that there will be a need. Lighting never strikes twice in the same spot," and with that Iroh fumbled along towards his study. Standing before the door he pulled out his key from underneath his red robes and fumbled around blindly until he was finally able to insert the key into the keyhole. From there he expertly turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open. "I think perhaps you would find it useful to light the torches, Prince Zuko. You need merely light the first on your right and all the others will follow." The quiet sound of fire lighting followed all around and Iroh closed the doors behind them. "Now, if you could guide me to my chair Prince Zuko; I've done quite enough fumbling in the dark for one day." Two hands landed on his shoulder plates and guided him gently to the chair. After sitting down Iroh's hand moved instinctively to a drawer which he opened. From it he removed several scrolls and handed them over to his companion to put in a box. "These entries date to the First Siege of Ba Sing Se. I have kept them so that I might never forget. You may have them now; read them and see if you can learn from my mistakes without repeating them. Once you are done with the scrolls you may burn them or turn them over to your father for his library, or do whatever else you see fit."
Next he opened the next drawer and pulled out another set of scrolls. Without any explanation he burned them and then turned his attention to the next and final drawer, which contained only three thin scrolls. He blindly sank his hand into the drawer, as if though to pull the three scrolls out, but thought better of it and closed the drawer. "I think I'll save those three for last," he sighed, "I don't quite know what to do with them yet. Why don't you help me with the things on the walls?"
Two tapestries of the Fire Nation's crest, a map of the world and another of the Fire Nation and four scrolls, each illustrating one of the bending arts, were all taken down, rolled up and put into boxes. With all adornment gone the red walls looked despairingly barren, but the unfortunate feeling was lost on Iroh. Still he sighed.
"Zuko, could you walk me over to the cabinet?" he asked. Even without employing the title Iroh was obeyed and the same two light hands guided him to the cabinet. He opened the cabinet. "I know everything in this cabinet so well I could work my way around it with my eyes closed," he said, stifling a laugh. His hand then moved to the center of the top shelf and he removed the golden crown which had decorated his top knot when he had been Azulon's heir. "I have no idea why I've kept this," he said holding the crown out before he let it fall into a box. The golden object clunked dully as it hit the tapestries. So the work continued. Truly, Iroh knew the contents of the cabinet as well as he knew the palm of his hand. Not once did his hand stumble as he went through every object there, packing everything.
Finally there was only one object left in the cabinet and Iroh's hand reached slowly for it. He pulled out a pretty little doll wearing faded green clothes that had been out of style in Ba Sing Se for the better part of a decade. Iroh held the doll out as if though looking at it, although, of course, this was impossible.
After a long time he put the doll away gently, fitting it neatly into the box which he then closed. Then he sat down again on his chair and sank his face into his hands. "Prince Zuko, could you please see to it that this box is put with the others? I feel very tired now. I think I've overtaxed myself. On your way out could you please call the doctor?"
With that Azula quietly picked up the box and took the scrolls Uncle had given her and walked out the door. However, she did not put the box with the others instead she took it with her as he left her uncle's apartments with her contingent of bodyguards following suit. She paused, only for a second to tell her uncle's head guard that he required the assistance of a doctor, and then she was gone.
- - -
Mai watched silently from a dark window as Zuko practiced his firebending in the courtyard. Zuko had been up since dawn practicing and Mai had been watching since at least that long. Zuko lacked his sister's grace. His movements were labored, his bending stilted. His face was red and twisted with exhaustion, his hair and clothes were drenched with sweat, and his glistening chest was heaving up and down in labored breaths. Suddenly the Prince fell. He let out a little gasp of pain, but he got to his feet quickly and continued. Mai looked on in silence as he brushed the dirt from his arm and sticky red blood came off on his hand. Zuko paused for an instant to look at the blood on his hand, and then simply punched his fist into the air and let off a stream of fire.
How different Zuko was from his sister, Mai thought. Azula wouldn't even have broken a sweat on those moves. Anyone who knew anything about firebending would realize that Zuko was absolutely exhausted, and yet he persevered. He fell again and Mai looked on with wonder as he got up again and continued. And so it went.
- - -
Once the doctor left Iroh sat alone in his study. He knew the walls and the cabinet were bare, but it mattered little. He no longer needed them to be there for him to see them. The scrolls he had given away were precious. He had kept them to remind himself of what he had been, so that he would never fall victim to his pride again. But now the words were all engraved into his memory and the characters of ink were of little use to his dead eyes. He hoped they would do some good to their present owner.
The scrolls he had burned were even more precious. Those words were burned not into his memory, but into his heart. They were dangerous words however, far too dangerous to let them be seen by any seeing eyes. He should have destroyed them long ago, but had kept them out of weak sentimentality.
The third set of scrolls he was too weak still to burn. His hand made its way to the drawer and he pulled the three scrolls out, one by one.
He knew these scrolls as he knew his own soul; better yet—they were his soul. He took the first which still smelled faintly of Ba Sing Se's burning walls and unfurled it. His hands moved gingerly across the page. He had no need of eyes for this: the paths were familiar. He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a folded parchment. Unfolding it he put it side by side with the scroll and ran his fingers over the tearstained papers. The ink had been steadfast, his eyes had not.
Finally he rolled the scroll up and put it away. The next scroll smelled of sweet lavender. This scroll he did not bother to open. Simply, he reveled in the sweet smell of its perfume and the memories the scent brought with it: an ocean of raven hair, golden eyes glinting with life, and lips he had often dreamt of kissing.
The third scroll he merely left on his desk as he replaced the other two in the drawer. Taking the scroll he closed the drawer and got up. Scroll in hand he walked out of the room and locked it behind him.
In her room Azula was sitting on her bed in the dark. At her feet was the box she had taken from Uncle's study, unceremoniously open. In her hands she clutched the pretty Earth Kingdom doll in her faded dress. It was a familiar doll. If memory served she had once owned such a doll; in fact, Azula was almost certain that it was exactly this doll which she had owned: a present from Uncle Iroh. But Azula had burned the doll.
She remembered now, very clearly, as she had held the useless thing in her clutches. It had been sent by her uncle while he was leading the siege of Ba Sing Se. The outer wall had just fallen and he had sent Zuko a beautiful pearl knife captured from the surrendering general. Obviously the dagger had been the better prize, and she had wanted it so.
In retribution she had burned the doll. Since Uncle Iroh saw it fit to give Zuko a war trophy while sending her a trinket she had decided to show the fuddy-duddy old coot just how much she needed his gifts.
Yet, the resurgence of the destroyed doll confused and bothered Azula. Obviously this was another doll. But why, why had Uncle kept it for all these years amongst his crown and other prized possessions?
The questioned ricocheted through her skull late into the night until finally sleep overtook her. With the question still burning in her heart Azula fell asleep clutching the clumsy thing in her arms.
When she awoke she at first confused the object around which her arms were wrapped with Sokka. What else slept beside her? But then she remembered that Sokka was far away in the North Pole and she remembered the events of the day before. How strange, she thought. She had never in her life slept with any toy or trinket (well, Sokka wasn't technically a toy…), how strange that she should start now.
She held the doll at arm's length and observed her. Miraculously the doll was only a little bit disheveled. Something in her look reminded Azula of a new bride on the morning after her wedding. Taking her brush, Azula gently brushed the doll's hair until it was proper again and then straightened out her clothes.
"There," she said, admiring her handiwork. "Now you are worthy again of being owned by Princess Azula." She sat the doll on her commode and turned her attention to the box of trinkets. Most of them were useless junk if her first assessment had been correct. Still, she doubted even her uncle would keep so much junk without a single treasure. She would have to sift through the contents of the box to find out, but first she wanted to check out the scrolls Uncle had handed her.
He had intended to give them to Zuko so she would have to read them quickly and hand them over to her idiot brother before they were missed. She would start reading them as soon as she was bathed.
- - -
Early morning found Zuko exhausted. Every muscle in his body ached. When he had returned to his chambers after a grueling day of firebending he had hoped to collapse in his bed and let sleep claim him quickly. Indeed, he did collapse into the wonderful feather mattress, so different from the cot he had had on the infernal floating prison. But as his body sank into the silk and feathers he himself did not sink into sweet oblivion.
Ever since his uncle had been attacked Zuko's nights had been plagued by the gruesome demon's grinning face. Sometimes in his dreams the creature took a true demon's form and the ghastly face was no mask, but a true face with long and vicious fangs, dripping with his uncle's blood. In these dreams the demon uttered awful taunting words filled with venom. The demon had Azula's voice.
But then, there were the other dreams: the ones where there was no demon at all, only a slender man behind a simple wizard's mask. Though this creature spoke no words and drank no blood, this was the true nightmare. After the monster's work was done it smiled at him; he could sense the smile under the blue mask. Then, it bowed and threw the sword at Zuko as the true Blue Spirit had done, but instead of disappearing from the scene the monster remained, smiling. Slowly the creature raised its hands and removed the mask to reveal Zuko's smiling face.
Fear of the nightmare had kept the Prince awake in bed, even as his muscles ached. Zuko knew the meaning of the dream. He didn't need a dream to make him realize that he was responsible for the attempted assassination. If he hadn't been so stubborn and gone to meet his uncle, Uncle Iroh wouldn't have been alone when the Blue Spirit had attacked. His presence alone might have dissuaded the murdering bastard, or maybe he might have been able to combat the assassin and bring him to justice.
But, he hadn't and Uncle Iroh had almost died and now he was blind. How awful it had been for Zuko to look in the mirror, but now his uncle would never look at anything again. How terrible it would be, and it was all his fault.
The guilt had consumed Zuko every time he had gazed at his uncle's bandaged face. He had become Iroh's constant companion to try and abate the guilt, but to no effect and the all-consuming guilt had left the young Prince exhausted. So, when Azula had offered to take his place at Uncle's side for the day Zuko had gladly accepted his sister's offer and used the free day to give voice to his anger through his clumsy firebending.
However, now, as he lay on his bed, muscles aching after having spent an entire day pushing his body beyond its limits, he found his anger remained and his guilt had increased. How could he possibly have shoved his responsibilities to Uncle Iroh on Azula?
When a guard came into his room to announce General Iroh's arrival, Zuko was still lying in bed. He told the guard that his uncle needed no introduction and that he should show his uncle in. He didn't bother getting up or getting dressed.
Uncle Iroh entered escorted by his own contingent of guards. The old man was in a chipper mood, and save for the interference of his seeing-eye guard he probably would have had a slight bounce in his gait. He had a scroll in his hands.
"Good morning my nephew!" he greeted Zuko happily. "I hope your dreams were pleasant."
Zuko wanted to grunt a reply but forced himself to muster enough politeness to reply, "Good morning Uncle, I didn't have any dreams. And you?"
"Just one," he answered taking a deep breath. "And it was very pleasant. In any case Prince Zuko—
"Just Zuko Uncle, you can omit the title."
"I don't believe I've thanked you for saving my life." A guard stepped out from behind Iroh carrying a large box.
This was too much for Zuko. He got to his feet. "No Uncle, there's absolutely no need to thank me."
"Of course there's a need," Iroh countered. "Etiquette dictates it, and more importantly, I want it. You've been so kind to me Zuko, waiting on my beck and call, even after it's you I have to thank for my good health."
"Good health? Uncle, you almost died! The doctors say your face is beyond repair and you're blind! As to saving your life? If I'd simply been there, like I was supposed to, instead of being an idiot, the bloody bastard would never have been able to get so close to you. And as to being on your beck and call, yesterday I sent Azula in my stead to help you pack away your things!" Zuko cried out in despair.
"Yes, yes, this is all quite true," he replied, still quite cheerily. "But, I believe the situation could have been worse."
At Iroh's retort a silence descended upon the room. "Wait," Zuko asked, "You knew about Azula?"
Iroh's voice grew darker now. "I know many things about Princess Azula. But, the Princess aims for perfection in all arts, so let her believe in the success of her deceit." Then suddenly Iroh was jolly again, "Besides, I was able to sneak her some reading."
"How?" Zuko asked.
"Oh, I simply led her to believe I intended to give you a few scrolls. Kindly don't ask her about them unless she mentions them. I'm certain she'll pass them on to you once she's done with them."
"Well, what were they?"
"A morality tale. Let us hope she learns the fable's lesson." Zuko was quite confused by his uncle's answer, but Iroh continued. "In any event, I think you may have misunderstood the expression of my gratitude." Iroh signaled forward and the guard bearing the box placed it on the floor in front of Zuko's feet. The guard then opened the box, revealing a brilliant little building. "I believe I overheard you speaking with Lord Agni. I thought I might give you a little head start—if you approve of the design, of course."
Zuko smiled widely and took his uncle in his arms. "Thank you Uncle," he whispered gratefully into Iroh's ears. Iroh simply nodded his acknowledgement. Then, releasing the old man, Zuko asked, "Would you join me for tea Uncle?"
"I'm afraid I can't right now, I have this scroll to deliver to your sister. However, afterwards, once you've brushed your teeth, I would love to share some tea over a nice game of Pai Sho." And with that, Iroh left his nephew.
He found his niece in a state very different from Zuko. Relaxed from her restful sleep and refreshed from her bath, Azula was looking through the scrolls she believed Iroh had intended for Zuko when her uncle arrived. Not wanting to arouse his suspicions she left her bedroom and received her Uncle in her anteroom.
"Good morning Uncle Iroh," she greeted him warmly as she took her uncle in her arms. Iroh returned the hug less than enthusiastically.
"Good morning Princess Azula, I hope your dreams were pleasant."
"Very."
"I am glad of it. As I am certain you know, your brother helped me to clean up my apartments yesterday, and I found this scroll among my possessions." He held the scroll out vacantly in the air and Azula took it from his hands. She recognized the scroll as one of the three he had neither burned nor given her. "I thought perhaps you would like it."
"Thank you Uncle," she answered, forging humility as she unrolled the scroll. However honest confusion soon entered her voice as she found herself looking at a very clumsy telling of the creation of the world. "This scroll looks like it was painted by a ten-year-old."
"You were four actually, though I doubt you would remember it. I had told the story to you and your brother, and you took it upon yourself to illustrate it. Truly it was the most beautiful piece of art I had ever seen, and indeed it was remarkable that a child your age could be capable of such a work.
"I asked you if I might keep it. How you shone with pride then," he said with a touch of nostalgia in his voice. Then sadness took the place of nostalgia: "I find that I must now apologize to you Princess Azula. Since I was never able to have your love, I kept this scroll instead and it was one of my most precious possessions.
"But, now my eyes have been taken from me, and I can no longer appreciate the scroll. Thus, I return it to you to do with it as you see fit. Now, if I may take leave of my Princess, I promised the Prince I would join him for tea."
And so, Iroh left Azula's chambers headed for Prince Zuko's rooms. Only when Iroh and his guards had disappeared did Azula lose her composure, allowing the scroll to fall out of her hand and unfurl itself upon the floor. She felt her body guards' stares boring into her and threatened them with burst of blue fire in order to get them to leave her alone. The strength seemed to give out in her knees and she found herself on the floor with the outstretched scroll which told of how the world had come to be.
For the first time she felt as if though she had lost something truly precious. But another alien emotion also tugged at her heartstrings and unbeknownst to Azula, its name was Guilt.
Author's notes:
On Iroh: Some of you wondered what price Iroh had to pay to remain among the living; here's your answer. I actually debated this for a long time. First I had to argue with myself about whether or not to attack Iroh. I think that was a good decision; I really liked the parallelism I was able to get with Sokka's story there. Then I had to decide whether to kill him, blind him (this was my original intention), or let him escape unscathed. I couldn't bring myself to kill off Uncle Iroh. I love him too much. But, the blindness was crucial for a couple of little side-plots I want to write, and well, at least he seems to be taking it best out of everyone.
On Sokka: This was an Azula-Iroh chapter with a little bit of Zuko and Meiko thrown in. Sokka shines mainly through his absence. I had originally written about a page on Sokka, telling myself that I would go back and write more about his adventures in the North, but as it proved impossible for me to do that, I decided to pull the Sokka text and save it for the next chapter.
On reviews: So, I suppose you all know what this means: if you want to know what Sokka's doing up in the Northern Water Tribe, you'll just have to review. As always, I love to hear what my readers have to say. I positively thrive off of your feedback, like most of the other people who post on this site.
