The Firefly Ballroom

Past, Ryoku is twenty-two, Iroh is twenty-three.

Ryoku could feel the eyes on her as she walked up the drive to the palace. It felt like multitudes of tentacles burrowing into her skin. She attributed that to the fact that there was so much more skin available, she didn't wear dresses like the one Iroh had sent very often. The halter dress was made of thin gray silk, it was mostly backless, a thought that Ryoku tried to ignore, and it stuck to her skin like a glove, something else she ignored. If she hadn't been able to heat her body at will, she would have been shivering in the night air. She hadn't felt this exposed since she had walked into a blind canyon with a fat man in a fluorescent white turban while hunting bandits in the desert.

"You look lovely," Iroh said cheerfully, appearing by her elbow. "As beautiful as a flower."

"You should be more specific," Rio said. "There are lots of flowers that are utterly revolting. I'm sure you'd hate it if I got the wrong idea."

"Use your imagination, Rio," Iroh held out his arm. "If I might accompany you, fair damsel?"

She took it, but not before making a face. "The only reason damsels are always in distress is because their dresses make it impossible for them to beat people up."

"I'm sure you'll find a way," Iroh replied confidently.

Rio was skeptical, "Look at this! I can't hide any weapons under this thing!" She gestured at the dress.

Iroh sighed, "You don't need weapons, Lily… it's a party."

"Nonsense, where do you think people get assassinated?" she quipped. "If you continue to hobble women like this, you'll regret it someday!"

"Well, should my safety be threatened, you have my express permission to strip."

"I like that plan so much," Rio grumbled caustically as Iroh guided her through a pair of giant dragon emblazoned doors and into the ballroom. "Explain to me why I'm doing this for you, again?"

"Because you're my best friend?" Iroh supplied hopefully, then with a mischievous smirk, he took her by the wrist and spun her around. "You know you're enjoying getting to dress up."

"As if!" Rio locked her knees, and dug her heels into the floor, stopping the spin. "You're enjoying it more than I am!"

She regretted the taunt as Iroh's gaze lingered a little too long on her shoulders, and then slid over the rest of her. "Perhaps I am," he said. "I wasn't aware that you had gotten some new ink."

She looked away, her free hand brushing the seal of the Special Forces forever carved into the curve of her shoulder and upper arm. It was surrounded by a lick of flame that dissolved into a more traditional Mara'i rendering of waves and spiraling curves.

"I like it," Iroh said definitively. "It balances your clan tattoo out." He pointed at the other band of tattoos that covered her left arm.

"It's a tribe symbol, actually," Rio smiled as Iroh rolled his eyes. "And I thought they looked really cool together."

"It almost looks three dimensional," Iroh commented. "Like it has texture."

He was gradually leading her further into the crowd, but Rio felt as if all of the prying eyes didn't matter so much, as long as Iroh was there. "It does," she said, ignoring the people whispering around them. "Mara'i tattoos are literally carved into the skin, and then the ink is ground in."

Iroh blanched, "That has got to be painful."

"Which is why it's the mark of a warrior," Rio laughed at his expression. "If I live long enough, my history in battle will cover my entire body, like the warrior king Kamehameha."

Iroh shuddered, "I hope you retire early then."

"So did Kamehameha," Rio said. "I believe he died very shortly after conquering all of the Mara'i Islands."

"I retract my earlier statement," Iroh shook his head. "I don't care how many tattoos you want, just don't die on me."

She smiled, "Never."

Iroh pulled her away from the center of the dance floor until they stopped next to the latter half of the buffet line.

Rio rolled her eyes, "Really? Do you expect me to hang near the punch bowl?"

"Not at all," Iroh released her hand and moved towards a very tall man in a green suit. "Ambassador Mu, how nice to see you."

Ambassador Mu saw Iroh, and his face split into a grin too large for him, "Congratulations, my boy!"

"Thank you, but," Iroh reached out and dragged Ryoku forward, "I have someone you might like to meet."

"And who might this be?" simpered Madame Mu from her husband's side. Her critical eyes quickly took in the state of Ryoku's dress, her hair, even the slightly terrified look in her eyes.

"This is my very good friend, Ryoku Zaio," Iroh explained, pushing Rio forwards. "She is an avid lover of all things botanical, and I'm sure she'd like to hear about phosphorescent gardens in Ba Sing Se."

"Really?" Mu's face flushed with pleasure, "How do you do?"

"I'm fine," Ryoku squeaked. Iroh slinked away, winking at Ambassador Mu.

"How did you come to know our favorite prince, dear?" Madame Mu inquired softly. "I can't say I recognize you from any court functions."

"Uh…" Ryoku gulped, "We went through the United Forces Academy together. And I'm actually rather familiar with Ambassador Mu."

"I must admit, you seem very familiar to me as well," Ambassador Mu said thoughtfully.

"Well, you see," Rio began, "You spoke extensively with my father about a strain of orchid native to the Mara'i islands five years ago. I was there."

"Old man Iyaka?" Mu bellowed. "He's your father? Well, I'll be!"

Ryoku nodded, "I go by my mother's maiden name for security reasons."

"You're a… Special Forces agent, then?" Madame Mu predicted, glancing at Rio's shoulders.

"Yes, ma'am."

Madame Mu's face crinkled in a large smile, "I do think I like you, dear." She took Rio by the arm, "Come now, you simply must visit us some time in Ba Sing Se, the gardens truly are wonderful."

A short distance away, Iroh watched as the Mu couple took Rio under their combined wings, enthusiastically chatting about this vine, or that particular fungus.

"Good move, pairing her with those two," Zekan commented, materializing out of the shadows, and laying an arm over Iroh's shoulders. He used the position to pull on his brother's ear, causing Iroh to wince and glare. "You never said she was hot!"

"Who?"

"Your girlfriend, idiot!"

Iroh elbowed his elder brother in the ribs as hard as he could, "She's not my girlfriend!"

"Not yet!" Zekan wheezed wickedly, retreating out of elbow-range. "Don't deny it!"

"It's not denial!" Iroh retorted.

Zekan straightened his lapels, and snagged a spoon off of a passing waiter. He ran a hand through his crew cut, and checked his reflection in the utensil with a business-like air. "Then I'm sure you don't mind if I go flirt with your not-girlfriend."

"What?"

Normally, a dormant volcano had a better chance of erupting than Iroh, but at that moment, he was ready to do something stupid if Zekan made good on his threat. Iroh didn't understand why the prospects of his brother messing with Rio was making him angry. Navy guys could never keep their hands to themselves on leave, and she always set them straight with a fist and few choice curses, but that was before… Well, Iroh wasn't willing to go through with that thought.

"Look, 'Roh, don't give yourself an apoplexy, okay?" Zekan clapped him on the shoulder, "I'm just messing with you."

"You had better be," Iroh growled.

"Oh, man," The crown prince shook his head. "You've got it bad."

"I'm fine." Iroh said absently, finding Rio's silhouette again.

"Right, you're more than fine," Zekan elaborated, before making doe eyes at his brother, "You're in looove." He wiped away an imaginary tear, "You've grown up so fast!"

This touching emotion was met with a hard shove, "Shut up."

Zekan cackled, "Why so defensive, 'Roh?"

Iroh pinched his nose and decided that a tactical retreat was his best option. "I think I see more people who want to congratulate me."

"Humility is a virtue, little brother!" Zekan was grinning like a fiend, but the smirk left his face as the crowd reached out to swallow him. Iroh hadn't requested his brother's presence on the guest list merely out of the goodness of his heart, but rather because his brother was a magnet for all of the unmarried courtesans that had mysteriously appeared at the event.

Iroh chuckled, and slinked into the shadows, joining the few whose presence he had personally requested- a small collection of fellow generals, and other service men and women.

"Here he comes!" exclaimed General Bumi. "The man of the hour!"

Iroh reached out to clasp Bumi's wrist in true soldier tradition, "Hey, Bumi, I'm glad you could make it."

The large man shrugged, "And stay on a scrap metal tub filled with sweaty men? I wouldn't miss this for the world!" All those present knew that the general was just joking, he was devoted to both his crew and his ships. Bumi's eyes roved over the dance floor,

"Say, who did you bring with you? I saw her shoulders, she's not some delicate court flower."

Iroh snickered, "You really don't recognize her?"

Bumi's brow furrowed, "No, tell me!"

"It's Rio," Iroh said nonchalantly. "And it was like pulling teeth to get her here."

Bumi gaped, and then, slowly, he began to laugh. "You have got to be kidding me!"

"I kid you not," Iroh allowed himself a smug grin. Then he cast an eye over the guests, "Have you seen my sister, Bumi? She should be here by now."

Bumi thought about it, "Ah… no, I don't believe so."

Iroh sighed, "Then she's run off again…"

"You got that right," another of the princely crew dropped in. Mao was stylish in a trendy waistcoat, but looked hot enough to take it off. "I've been running around everywhere looking for Azuli, but she's given her guards the slip again."

"Really?" Iroh knocked his head back against the wall exasperatedly, "We need some new ones."

"They're just too old," Mao sighed. "They can't keep up, and she knows exactly how to sneak off since she's been at it so long."

He looked longingly into the crowd, and punched Iroh in the shoulder, "Well, it's your problem now, I'm taking a break." He spun on heel and waded through the dance floor in search of the buffet line.

Iroh groaned, "Wonderful."

Bumi guffawed, "Siblings're great, right?"

"At least yours are full grown," Iroh observed. He sighed, "She won't be in behind the curtains; we caught her there last time."

"Well, you better go find her," Bumi prodded. "I hate to think what would happen if she ran off."

Iroh rolled his eyes, "I probably wouldn't make it to my next deployment is what would happen. Mother would have found me and fried me for a funeral sans priests."

He strolled off, trying to imagine himself as a rebellious fifteen year-old, and failing miserably. That was, until he saw a certain tall, dashing, and mildly womanizing cousin of his leaning comfortably against the wall next to Ryoku across the ball room. He had one elbow by her head, grinning flirtatiously while she laughed at something he had just said.

Iroh didn't pause to wonder why the edges of his vision were rapidly attaining a reddish hue, he just moved, appearing next to the two at speeds previously unheard of in a crowded ballroom.

"Hello, cousin Ling," he greeted his cousin with a cheerful smile. "I didn't see you arrive, how have you been?"

"Iroh, how wonderful to see you!" Ling exclaimed a great deal more genuinely. "I was just telling this extraordinary young woman about my recent vacation in the Mara'i Islands. I noticed her tattoos, you see, and I knew that they were authentic immediately!"

"He didn't mention he was your cousin, Snowbell," Rio assured Iroh. "So you don't have to worry about me getting anymore blackmail-worthy info on you."

"How fortunate," Iroh suspected that the smile he had plastered on his face had dried, because it was now becoming difficult to take off.

"You know each other?" Ling's smile, however, was slipping dangerously. "However could you have made the acquaintance of such a charming young lady, cousin? I fear she's out of your league."

"Iroh and I go way back," Rio supplied obliviously. "We went to the United Forces Academy together."

"Oh, I see…" Ling said, a hint of distaste blossoming in his tone. "You're in the military? How unusual."

"In what way?" Iroh inquired innocently. "Ryoku is one of the finest Special Forces commanders I have ever had the pleasure of working with."

"I was merely commenting on the delicacy of Miss Zaio's figure," Ling said quickly. "I find it hard to believe that such a… fille mignonne could rampage around on the battlefield with a bunch of steroidal men, but of course, I try not to judge."

"A fee what?" Rio was nonplussed. "What did you call me?"

Then she poked Ling in the chest, an irate expression sparking in her face. "And for your information, I don't rampage. My highly trained team and I execute tactical precision maneuvers in order to achieve the larger strategy of the fleet we work with, and you had better be d*** grateful because it keeps your sorry behind safe at night!"

"I… didn't mean any offense, Miss Zaio, I-" Iroh felt a visceral pleasure in watching Ling backpedal beneath Rio's deadly glare.

"Of course you didn't, you just made assumptions based off of my physical appearance without considering that obvious fact that I have the Special Forces emblem tattooed on my arm, you blatherskite!"

"W-well, I am very sorry for this misunderstanding, Miss-"

"What misunderstanding?" Rio poked Ling again, "I understand you very well- and I've decided I don't like you!"

She reached out and threaded her arm through Iroh's decisively, "I think it's time we were leaving, Snowbell." She sneered, "This fee minion is tired of the present company."

Iroh winked at Ling as he was pulled away. "Tu as gagnée la bataille, mais tu n'as pas encore gagnée le guerre, mon cousin!" Ling called, glaring furiously.

"What was that?" Rio asked, "And what's a 'fee minion?'"

"It's a strange dialect from the earth kingdoms known as Francois," Iroh answered. "And he called you a 'fille mignonne' which means 'cute girl.' You have to speak from the sinuses to really get it right."

"The nerve!" Rio growled, dragging Iroh past the buffet. "If this wasn't your party, I might've-"

"Stabbed him with an hor'doeuvres fork?" Iroh laughed, far less worried about his cousin than he should have been. "Don't get mad at a man for telling the truth, Lily."

"Oh… well…" Rio let go of his arm abruptly, glancing away. "I guess I need two forks, then." But the threat didn't have its normal bite.

"So…" Iroh began as a semi-awkward silence fell, "If you don't mind, I need your help for something."

Rio glared. "No."

"Why not?"

"This is what happened the last you asked for my help."

"But it's not that bad, I promise!"

"No!"

"Just hear me out, okay?"

She thought about it for a second, before nodding, "Okay."

"My little sister escaped her chaperones again, and I need your help to find her. She's fifteen going on twenty-two, and majorly angst-ridden, have you got any ideas?"

Rio grinned, "That's it? You want me to play hyper-protective big brother for you?"

"No, I need you to brainstorm everywhere a fifteen year-old girl would hide," Iroh ran a hand through his hair distractedly, scanning the ballroom. "She probably won't be behind the curtains, or in the bathroom, but maybe we should check anyway…"

"Wow, she pulls this kind of stunt a lot?" Rio asked, beginning to look thoughtful.

"You have no idea," Iroh said fervently. "If she didn't do stupid stuff like this, she wouldn't need chaperones in the first place!"

Rio spun around slowly, surveying the room, and then she grabbed Iroh's arm again. "I got it!" she said, "Your sister's a fifteen year-old surrounded by cute servicemen, she'll be on the balcony."

"The balcony?"

Rio nodded, "Isn't that where all the lovebirds go? She'll be there, I promise."

Sure enough, as Iroh courteously held open one of the large French doors at the end of the ballroom, Rio was able to see a fire nation girl in an expensive dress wrapped around a young man wearing a waiter's uniform.

"Azuli!' Iroh barked from behind Rio, "What do you think you're doing?"

The lovebirds sprang apart as if they were scalded. Azuli glared, while the waiter cowered. "Iroh!" she whined, "Look at what you've done, you've ruined it!"

"No, I ended you fraternizing," Iroh glared at the waiter, "with an undesirable suitor!"

"So you can be chummy with the help, and I can't?" Azuli spat. "That's not fair!"

"Don't call them that," Iroh said angrily, "and that has nothing to do with it."

"Really? You would've freaked out just the same if I'd been kissing the chancellor's nephew?" The waiter's head was whipping back and forth like was watching a tennis match. He tried to sidle away, but Rio stopped him with a shake of her head.

"Yes!" Iroh was snarling, "except maybe a little less, because the chancellor's nephew is only three years older than you!"

"So? Ethan isn't older than I am, he told me so!" Azuli brandished a finger at the waiter.

"Hey, punk," Rio interrupted, pointing at the waiter. "How old are you, exactly?"

"I-I'm nineteen…" he stammered.

Rio shrugged, "There, he's way too old for you, problem solved."

Azuli turned on her, "And who are you?"

"Commander Ryoku Zaio of Special Forces team six," Rio said nonchalantly. "Just y'know, one of the deadliest people at this party…"

Azuli was unimpressed. She returned to glaring at Iroh "So you get to fool around with one of your subordinates, and I can't even kiss one of the waiters?"

Iroh couldn't muster a response, beyond a hoarse, "why does everyone think we're dating?" under his breath.

"You call that kissing?" Rio broke in, nettled. "Honey, I call that eating some guy's face. And whatever your brother does on leave isn't any of your business because he's a mature adult with the good sense to at least date someone his own age."

"Who are you to-" Azuli began, but Rio continued unfazed.

"And anyway, in case you hadn't noticed, Princess, you're not like everyone else. Who you're involved with had political ramifications for your family. So," Rio reached out and latched onto the teen's arm, "You get your angsty teenage behind into that ballroom, and I don't want to hear a squeak out of you until the end of the party, you got that?"

Azuli was forcefully propelled through the French doors. "That's not fair!" she wailed, "I don't even know you!"

"Too bad, life sucks," Rio waved. "Bye-bye."

Then she turned her steely gaze onto the poor waiter. "You." She said cryptically.

Ethan cowered, and promptly decided to cut his losses. "Look, I wasn't going to do anything! I'm just a regular guy you know, my dad's broke, my mom's sick, I got a family to feed, I'm just trying to get by-"

"Cut me the sob story, and get back to work," Rio ordered shortly. "That is… if you really want to feed that family."

He scuttled inside, and Rio leaned against the French doors with a humorless chuckle. "What do you want to bet he was about to tell me his favorite dog just died?"

Iroh disregarded the comment, leaning next to Rio with a breathy whistle, "You're amazing."

"I really am, aren't I?" Rio inspected her nails, "the things I do for friends."

When Iroh didn't respond, she elbowed him in the side. "This is the part where you thank me, smart one."

Iroh found his voice, "Thanks, Rio, I mean it." He sighed forlornly, "I've never been very good at being the big bad older brother."

"That's because you keep trying to be logical and caring," Rio rolled her eyes. "Fifteen year-olds don't follow logic, and they don't care about you caring until they're sobbing in their rooms half an hour after the argument."

"You speaking from experience?" Iroh asked slyly.

"Of course not," Rio chuckled. "I couldn't afford to be a hormonal, emotional, teenage mess at fifteen. No… but I knew a lot of other maids that did some stupid stuff like that."

Iroh's arm snaked behind Ryoku's head, and draped across her shoulders, "So you're not going to encourage a budding romance that will sweep away class distinctions, and end with a cliché?"

She snorted "No. Odds are that kid didn't care about your sister at all. In fact," she winked at Iroh, "If he spontaneously acquired a black eye, I don't think anyone would make a fuss."

Iroh shook his head, scandalized, "What kind of man do you think I am?"

"I'm just saying…" Rio let her head fall back against the arm around her shoulders, heat radiated from the appendage. "I could cook an egg on your arm, and you're telling me you're not actually angry at the kid?"

"I'm angry, I'm just not going to beat him up for it." Iroh's arm tightened slightly around her, "Speaking of heat, I'm surprised you haven't complained yet, you must be freezing."

"Ha," Rio mock-glared. "Do you think so little of me? I can heat my body on command if you must know." She shifted, snuggling closer. "It comes in handy on missions in the artic."

"I'll bet," Iroh sighed. "It seems like yesterday that you were complaining about fire-bending, and now you can probably control your chi better than I can."

"Maybe. Feeling jealous?"

"Coming from the girl who nearly failed practical fire-bending?"

"That was low," Rio poked him in the ribs, and Iroh immediately twitched. "At least I'm not ticklish."

"Cute," Iroh observed sarcastically.

She smirked, "Minion?"

He snorted, "Definitely minion."

Then Iroh grew serious, "Rio, can I ask you for another favor?"

She groaned. "Another one?"

"Yeah, I know…" Iroh smiled, but the grin faded. "Do you know anyone in the Forces who can take over the security detail on my angelic little sister? She's going to Ba Sing Se with Father next week to teach her some manners, and I need to find some scary women she'll listen to."

"I can think of one," Rio said. "Me."

"There's no one else? I can't transfer anyone on active duty, but for someone looking for some light recovery work…"

"Am I not good enough?" Rio stepped away from the doors and put her hands on her hips. "No one that I know of is on leave for long enough, or close enough to qualify. I'll do it."

"I know you're competent, Rio. I thought you wanted to spend your leave with your father," Iroh protested. "I know it's a lot to ask."

"I'll just get bored anyway. And trust me," Rio sighed, "Your sister is much more pleasant than my dad. At least she can talk about interesting things."

"I'm sure she's extremely interesting. She can complain all about me to you, and then you can tell all of your horrible stories about me," Iroh chuckled. "But… are you sure?"

"Look, I give you a hard time, but this is what friends do," Rio said firmly. "You help me all the time. I like helping you. It's fine."

Iroh hugged her spontaneously, "Thank you, Rio. This makes me feel so much better."

"Yeah, no problem," Rio hugged him back. "I think you should go find your sister before she runs away again, or finds us and accuses you of 'fraternizing.'"

"Uh… yeah…" Iroh stepped back. "Mother is keeping me very busy with court functions, so I won't be able to see you off, but I'll see you when you come back."

"Alright then," Rio murmured, moving towards the doors. "I'll see you next week, however, there is still a party going on." She turned around and smirked, "And it's for you. So…"

Iroh flushed, "Oh, right."

"Are you blushing?" Rio laughed, "You totally forgot, didn't you?" She grabbed his arm again, "Come on, you're just too modest for your own good."

"Right," Iroh tried to control the heat spreading across his cheekbones, but it wasn't going away. He tried to remember when in the last five years he'd blushed, and couldn't remember more than a handful of times. Funny, he thought as he slid his fingers into Rio's, why now?

Just a side note on culture references,

Mara'i- I mean a blend of Hawaiian and Maori cultures that I stuck in because it's awesome (super neat mythology...)

King Kamehameha- actually existed, and one of the many Kamehamehas (the name was used multiple times, imagine that, King Kamehameha Jr. Jr. Jr. Jr. Jr.) and if I remember correctly from my vacation in Hawaii, helped to unite the islands into a cohesive kingdom.

Francois- will probably represent northern Europeans. Yeah, I know it's not eastern culture, but every court needs some unctuous fellow speaking French.

"Fille mignonne" for those of you that are not familiar with French, is pronounced fee min-yon more or less (hence "fee minion") and in my experience, you really do speak from the nose. "Tu as gagnée la bataille, mais tu n'as pas encore gagnée le guerre, mon cousin!" means roughly, "you have won the battle, but you have not yet won the war, cousin!" but I'm only a third year in public school French, so be lenient with me.

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