Ch 8

~Iroh~

Iroh sat back in his chair and yawned. He thought that he spent late nights with Strategist Ping because the man had water tribe heritage. However, looking at Jin Lian, who was purely Fire Nation, he figured the job attracted people of a certain personality: people who were stubborn and enjoyed challenges. Jin Lian had now pulled her hair out of its low bun, her dark locks spilling over her shoulder and back. She tousled it occasionally when she read.

The young woman had texts spread out over his table, covering the map painted onto it. The only region uncovered by her books was the fleet's path and the surrounding areas. The books ranged from textbooks on old water tribe fishing techniques to brochures of modern and top of the line water vessels. Iroh picked one brochure and scanned it.

"How did you get these?" he asked. "And why?"

Jin Lian looked up from her Water Tribe history book. "I met with Varrick Industries and was given a catalogue of their boats. They've become an industry standard nowadays, it will be important to know the specs of potential vessels our pirates use. 'Know thine enemy', correct?"

The young general nodded and yawned again. "I think we should continue this tomorrow, Strategist Yang," he said. "Rest up for tomorrow."

She looked at her watch, her bronze eyes widening at the time. "Apologies, General, I lost track of time," Jin Lian said. She stood abruptly to gather her materials, only to have her feet become caught up in the legs of the chair. It just so happened at the same time, the ship was hit by a swell of water. "Oh!" she exclaimed, stumbling sideways. A loud thud resounded through the cabin as the small woman hit the floor.

"Lady Yang!" Iroh yelled in shock. He dashed around the table and kneeled beside the her. "Are you alright?" he asked. The young woman groaned, clutching her head.

"I think I hit the table on the way down," she muttered, pulling her hand away. Scarlet blood stained her palm and started to make a trail down between her eyes. "Ow…," she gasped softly, pushing her hand back to her forehead.

Iroh quickly produced a handkerchief from his pocket. "Let me see it," he said gently as he smoothed Jin Lian's hair back, pressing the cloth to her face. It wasn't so bad as he thought, it was common for head wounds to bleed profusely. The cut was small, just adjacent to her hairline. "I'll take you to the healer," Iroh murmured calmly.

"Don't bother," Jin Lian answered, placing her hand on the handkerchief. Iroh felt a jolt of electricity run up his arm when her fingers overlapped his. "It's a waste of chi for them to heal such a small cut," she continued, moving to stand up. Iroh placed his hands on her upper arms, supporting her as she stood. One of Jin Lian's hands rested on his shoulder, the other still pressing the handkerchief to her head.

Iroh held onto her firmly. "She's so willowy," he thought. Despite feeling the firm, toned muscle beneath his hands, Jin Lian looked frail and delicate. The ship rocked some more, making him shift her weight closer to him. Large, glassy, bronze colored eyes looked up at him through thick black lashes. Her full, pink lips parted enticingly. He dipped his head, slowly closing the distance between their lips. Iroh could feel her breath quicken, her hand gripping the fabric of his jacket. And then, a firm shove pushed him away.

She stepped away from him, placing an arm's distance between them. "General Iroh," Jin Lian hissed. "As I requested before, do not treat me like the woman you met in court. I am your strategist." Her eyes became sharper and colder with every word. The reminder quickly doused the fire that kindled in his chest, and then grew again in anger and confusion.

"Of course, forgive me Strategist Yang," he said sharply. "You should return to your quarters, get that cut taken care of. You may return tomorrow to collect your books." Iroh turned away from her dismissively, the temperature of the room dropping precipitously with his icy attitude.

"Thank you, sir," Jin Lian replied. She bowed her head shortly and left the room. He heard the neighboring door open and close with a creak. With a heavy sigh, Iroh set to changing his clothes and finally lay in his bunk. He closed his eyes, dreams of dragons and phoenixes overtaking him.

~Jin Lian~

Jin Lian closed the door to her room, her face red and flustered. Voices of the past filled her head. 'How insolent.' 'Little chit.' 'Learn your place.' Her heart pounded in her chest as the heat she felt from Iroh's body dissipated. He was going to kiss her. Memories of the Fire Lily Festival flooded back, the light headed giddiness she felt after dancing, the exhilaration of eluding the man in the blue dragon mask, the feeling of his firm grip and his heated kiss, a barely restrained passion that simmered below the surface.

The young woman didn't know how she felt now. They were strangers hiding their identities behind masks at the festival, but this was different. Their roles were clearly defined. He was her General and she was his Strategist, the Prince and the lowest ranked noblewoman in the Fire Nation. Did she feel humbled that Iroh would give her his affection? Ashamed at their differences in rank? Fear that she was overstepping what society deemed appropriate?

Jin Lian lowered her arm, realizing she was still pressing Iroh's handkerchief to her forehead. She hissed at the slight sting of dried blood coming away from her skin. She looked in the mirror, seeing that the cut was starting to scab over. Dried, rust colored blood still stained her skin in a blotchy pattern. Jin Lian ran the handkerchief under the faucet and dabbed the blood away. She flushed again, thinking of Iroh's worried expression as he staunched her wound, how his strong brow furrowed and his lips pulled down into a frown…..NO. Jin Lian splashed ice cold water onto her face, shivering slightly. She couldn't have any distractions, least of all him.

Jin Lian wiped away the last of the blood and took a quick shower in the women's locker room. It was late at this point, so she was alone. She entered a stall, pulling the curtain closed to keep the steam in. The sweltering heat reminded Jin Lian of her days in the family smithy, helping her mother forge swords and other weapons. "If your clothes aren't drenched with sweat, you aren't working hard enough," her mother's firm voice rang through her head. Jin Lian could still hear the clashing of metal as her mother, Suda Yang, second generation of the Lotus sword style, folded and hammered the steel, and feel the vibrations shaking her arms with each strike as she held the molten metal. Where the heat made others groggy, it made her more alert, more receptive to her environment. Jin Lian allowed the hot water to beat down on her body as she planned her strategy.

The next morning, Jin Lian sought out Iroh. She found the young general engaging in morning practice with the other fire benders, going through the bending forms in unison with the others. He had removed his jacket and dress shirt, wearing only a tank top with his trousers. Sweat beaded on his forehead as they held each position, emphasizing their form. Jin Lian stood back, allowing them to finish. She admired the way the muscles of Iroh's back and arms rippled as he made slow, deliberate movements. His hair was disheveled, the small hairs which were usually neatly combed back escaping and falling into his eyes. His face held a quiet intensity that practically screamed of his royal upbringing. Jin Lian was enthralled, so focused on committing the motions to memory that she did not realize Iroh approached her and started talking.

"Strategist Yang," she heard him say. Jin Lian shook herself out of her haze, meeting her general's eyes. "Strategist Yang," he repeated. "Is there something you need?" His tone was formal and impersonal as he used a towel to wipe the sweat from his brow.

"Sir, I've completed my stratagems and request they be reviewed with the fleet commanders," she replied with matching tone. Gold met bronze in a level stare, as if they were assessing her. He visibly shivered as a cool wind blew past.

As he threw on his jacket, Iroh said, "We must be nearing the North Pole, we will schedule that meeting for when we dock." He turned away, ready to take up his post, but not before Jin Lian's voice stopped him.

"I would like for you to review it before the meeting then, General," she said, handing him the stack of papers. "Please."

~Iroh~

Iroh raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. His mother had assigned her this position on the premise that she was adept at interpersonal negotiations. She had bested him numerous times in pai sho, and demonstrated surface level knowledge of each element's fighting style. What else could she come up with? He scanned the document, appreciating her neat calligraphy and diagrams that accompanied her ideas.

"It looks good to me," he said, handing the papers back. "However, the real test lies with the other bending commanders. Just because I approve of something, doesn't mean that the others will be happy with it."

Jin Lian obediently nodded, "yes sir." Her face was expressionless, merely accepting his words. Iroh found it slightly irritating, hoping he would work up a fire in those bronze eyes.

"With your permission, I'll have our communications team send out the telegraph," she continued.

"Granted," Iroh answered.