Chapter Eleven: Kill Them With Kindness

Iroh received a messenger hawk from Omashu. The bird was, according to their hawker, the same one they'd sent with the steamer. This was what she carried:

Uncle,

Lt Jee says we'll be back in two days if we don't hit a sandbar. He also says I should say I'm sorry for not telling you where I was going and for letting the Southern Water Tribe imprison a Fire Nation messenger hawk. He checked to make sure I wrote that, but now he's gone so I can say I'm not sorry at all because the 41st is safe and nobody even got hurt except for me and the Avatar. I didn't capture him.

I am sorry we've been gone so long. I accidentally made Omashu surrender. It's okay, I told them I was Kuzon. Except for at the Agni Kai.

Zuko

Iroh read this letter, and re-read this letter. Then he walked himself down to the ship's doctor.

He was only experiencing phantom pains, not a true heart attack.

Iroh read the letter again, and realized he needed much better punishments. Those he had dreamed up over the past week were platry, unimaginative things. So nice of Prince Zuko to give him two more days to plan. His nephew was such a kind, considerate boy.

A kind, considerate boy who returned to the Wani wearing an oil-spotted engineering uniform, covered in purpling bruises, and with the left side of his face swathed in bandages again.

"Stop fussing," Zuko snapped. "It's not for my eye, it's just for the head wounds!"

Iroh turned a smile on the crewmen who had brought him back in one very tenderized piece.

"Thank you for keeping my nephew safe," the Dragon of the West said, and they all had enough intelligence to look uneasy.

Assistant Cook Dekku had been left to watch the steamer while Prince Zuko accidentally Omashued. Iroh judged him least culpable. He was sentenced to watching all the meals he'd prepared be dosed with extra salt and dragon-pepper for a week. Iroh also stopped going back for seconds, unless the Head Cook had been the only one to touch the dish.

"Is everything to your taste, General?" Dekku fretted.

Iroh coughed behind his napkin, then smiled. "It's lovely! Truly your skills have only improved while catering to my nephew. I am simply on a diet."

He waited until Dekku had slumped away, and winked at the Head Cook. Then he picked up the salt shaker, and waited for Dekku to sneak another forlorn glance his way.

Engineer Hanako had been in the furnace room for much of the first day Prince Zuko had been aboard, and had lodged a formal protest—in writing!—with Lieutenant Jee about conveying a minor into a war zone. Her formal protest identified the minor as Kuzon of Urusai. In acknowledgement for her bravery in standing up to orders and her generosity towards his nephew, Iroh gifted her two of Zuko's finest shirts. He made a great speech to go along with the shirts, and held her hands as a single tear rolled down his cheek. He did this in front of the dining hall during the busiest part of dinner.

"—Your kindness in caring for my dear young nephew, so far from home, when even his own uncle could not be with him—"

Everyone saw that the shirts would fit. This was revenge enough.

Crewman Teruko had been the one to find Zuko stowed away. She had immediately brought him to the attention of Lieutenant Jee, and accepted her commanding officer's decision on the matter. This was irreprehensible behavior under Fire Nation naval code.

Since she was such a fine upstanding soldier, Iroh made her his new sparring partner. It was clear that his nephew was not going to keep himself safe, and Iroh had become quite the corpulent dragon since his own time in the military. In addition to his new diet, Iroh prescribed himself several hours of intense firebending practice every day. It was quite refreshing.

"Do you need a break?" he asked. "Perhaps some tea?"

Teruko groaned something from the ship's deck that Iroh chose to interpret as both polite and a negative.

"Ah, the energy of youth. Very well, let us continue!"

He chose to interpret her stream of invectives as enthusiasm. He had been a sergeant once too, long long ago. He had not been demoted.

Lieutenant Jee. Iroh had many perfectly ordinary conversations with Lieutenant Jee. The man was stiff and unsmiling for all of them, and full of unfounded suspicions and clear concern for his personal safety. Iroh wondered how long it took him to realize that Iroh only mentioned the words Avatar and course correction when Prince Zuko was in hearing range.

He wondered how long it took the lieutenant to realize he always mentioned the words Avatar and course correction when Prince Zuko was in hearing range. And Prince Zuko had very good ears. Quite the set of lungs, too!

"Are we not on the most efficient course?" his nephew shouted. "Didn't we just have this conversation? I don't want your excuses! Show me the maps!"

His nephew was learning quite a bit about navigation, too. Revenge really was quite instructive.

One morning, Zuko began shouting before Iroh could even say anything. It was like Kuzon of Pavlov's lizard-dogs; soon Lieutenant Jee and course corrections would simply belong together in the prince's mind.

And finally, his nephew. His dear sweet nephew, who had left his own Uncle behind and risked everything a twelve-year-old could risk to see his self-appointed mission through. Who was so full of love, but who seemed baffled by the idea that love could be returned. For him, Iroh devised a multi-pronged vengeance.

There was pai sho (It is not unusual for a game to last more than two hours!) Tea tasting (Do you prefer the northeastern or the northwestern jasmine blend?) Breathing exercises (Yes, I can see you are very calm. Have a new candle, Prince Zuko). A relaxing training regimine (Oh no, Prince Zuko, you cannot join Crewman Teruko and I. Think of your head wounds! Your fire is clearly still recovering. Please, practice the beginner set again.) (Zuko did not protest this as loudly as Iroh had expected.) And daily hugs. Iroh counted in his head; he almost had his nephew up to three seconds before the boy shoved him away.

Also, hot springs!

"Are you sure you will not join me, Prince Zuko? The water is most soothing for aching muscles."

"Maybe if you let me train on more than the baby katas, I'd have some of those," the bundle of half-faded bruises that called itself a boy complained. Iroh very much wanted to hug him (and also, perhaps, to pull him into the water), but his nephew had grown wary of standing within easy hugging range.

"Just for a few minutes, perhaps?"

"I'll be at the ship. If you're not back in half an hour, we're leaving without you."

"Oh, so Lieutenant Jee has finally worked out the course?"

It was the little things in life. Iroh leaned back as his nephew stomped off, and relaxed. He had not been joking about those aching muscles.

Perhaps he relaxed a bit too much. When he woke, the Earth Kingdom soldiers did not look like they had come to join him in a friendly soak. Iroh thought of how his nephew would feel when he realized what had happened. This, too, was a type of revenge. If perhaps not one Iroh would have planned.

"May I put on my clothes before we depart, gentlemen?" Iroh asked.

"Get moving, General."

"Retired," he smiled.

No, this was altogether too crass for one of Iroh's vengeances. Earthbenders. They were subtle as stone.