Sorry for the long delay, I've been a bit busy. But now I am back on shedule and I have lots of tales to tell. Chapter 8 of Downfall shall be going up hopefully this week and I also have a Nanowrimo project in the works called "One Day More", part two and three and four of the Chosen and a humor fic called "How Far?" Yes, between that, working for the history Channel, swordfighting, fitness training, working for three newspapers, college, voleenteering for two orginizations and this, I should be the living dead soon enough.
I plan to finish off Downfall pretty soon and this story has three chapters left. So wish me luck and hope for the best.
Thanks to all my reviewers, you mean the world to me. Red, thanks for reviewing, it's an honor! Zulaya, I owe you for convincing me to continue with this story. Jadefire, another big thanks. Yesenia, Firebend and Sarah, you are my angels of writing.
Without Firebend's enjoyment of battle strategy, Zuko would have never been saved. Without Yesenia, I'd be Vaughn-less and without Sarah, my beloved editor, the sea of grammar would have never been parted, I owe you all so much! This chapter we meet Zuko! Hope you enjoy it.
Come To Me
The gods seemed to be against the rescue mission of the Prince. Although Iroh and his men had left within the hour of Baron Ninohbashi's confession, they had been plagued by horrible storms which delayed them for three days. Iroh did not like storms, especially when he was at sea. The tossing of the boat made him so nauseous, he could feel every pitch as the waves tossed them back and forth. He loved the feeling of a light cleansing rain, but storms gave him a terrible headache. He had no idea why, but he could feel when storms were coming by the painful pressure in his head. Right before a storm, he would feel the bones around his eyes begin to ache. He had always chalked it up to the ill-health he had suffered as a child. He remembered lying awake one night when he was six and hearing one of the maids whispering to the other "Agni punished Lord Sajja with two deformed children for what he did. This entire family is cursed."
Iroh had wondered about that for many hours. He knew he was deformed. He had shorter then any child his age. He remembered looking at his thin hands. No matter how often the nurses were ordered to feed him, Iroh had always remained fragile and slender. Ozai on the other hand had always been strong and tall, but he had also been clumsy and gawky during his youth. The poor boy had been a hazard to the beautiful treasures around the palace. They had been an ill-matched pair but they had been so close once. A memory stirred. He remembered coming into his brother's room and finding seven year old Ozai angrily tossing fireballs out of the window into the river below.
"Are you angry, my dear fiery brother?" he asked mildly.
Ozai turned, his eyes filled with tears. "Why can't I read or write well? You are so smart, everyone says so. The tutors always say you are 'so advanced' and 'so brilliant' but they call me a slow-witted thick-head embarrassment. I try so hard. You know I do," he sobbed. "It's not fair!"
Iroh already had a hand on his brother's shoulder. "You know you are quite intelligent. Don't listen to those old fools," he said, leading his brother away from the window and back to the table, where some scrolls were laid out. "Youmay have a little trouble reading, but you understand quite well. When I'm Fire-Lord, you'll have a private reader for you," he assured him comfortingly.
"I wish you were Fire-Lord so you could banish those mean tutors and make them pay," Ozai sniffled, rubbing the bruised welts on his hands he had earned for stumbling in his reading. Iroh had a nice set of welts to match for setting the teacher's hat on fire in retaliation. He knew he should behave better, he was setting a bad example for his brother but he couldn't resist shoving abuse back on those who hurt Ozai.
"Well, let me help you with your work. The Two Devils can do anything, right?" Iroh encouraged his brother, patting his head. Iroh smiled at the nickname he and his brother had earned themselves. Being so slim and tiny, he only had to look at people with his innocent eyes and they thought he was harmless and docile. Iroh had to laugh at how foolish people could be; he could wrap them around his finger.
Just because he had a sweet face and an easy-going personality did not mean that he was weak or benign. It just meant people trusted him easily and didn't see him as a threat. People underestimated Iroh at their peril. Ozai often said his brother was as sneaky as a Prickle Snake and just as poisonous to anyone he didn't like. In Iroh's mind, the only person worth caring about was Ozai, no matter what the consequences were. It was them against the world and Iroh didn't care who else got hurt as long as he and Ozai were safe.
Ozai nodded and bent over his work once more. His eyes raked the paper, trying to glean meaning from the characters. "The battle continued for many days. Lord Sozen- I can't read the next character!" he raged in sheer frustration.
"Exterminated. It means to kill out," Iroh supplied helpfully.
"Lord Sozen…exterminated… all the evil Airbenders who had…"
"Conspired. It means to plan."
"Conspired… against the safety of the Fire Nation. Although it… cost the life of the… brave Prince Druzin, the battle… was a clear victory… in the fight for…for…for..."
"Hegemony ," Iroh read out load over his brother's shoulder, before ducking a fireball thrown at him.
Ozai threw his hands up in disgust. "Father's right. I am worthless," he muttered, sparks flying from his fingers. Iroh hated seeing his brother in such a rage, his face looked so cold and inhuman in anger. It made him look just like Father. Ozai had to stop trying to be something he wasn't. Iroh knew that Ozai was gentle, that he loved to walk in the gardens and smell flowers. Father hated that, calling Ozai "Princess" and locking him in cellars to "toughen up". Ozai would come out of those times shaking. Iroh would have to sleep in Ozai's room those nights, hugging his younger brother as he silently cried.
Iroh smiled and smoothed his brother's hair back. "A Prince of the Fire Nation isn't worthless, you know that. This is an advanced book and the characters are hard. You just need to take your time. I'll begin reading your homework to you. As for writing, I have an idea," he said. He grabbed the sheet of parchment and traced a series of dots on the page.
"What are you doing? Iroh, the last time you did my homework, Father really let you have it. He'll beat you and lock you up again if you help me," Ozai whispered in a frightened voice. His eyes flickered to the door where a tutor could walk in any moment. All of the tutors of the princes carried straps of leather and were given leave to use them with very little cause.
All of the tutors also had a habit of spying on the two Devils. In their defense, half the time it was just to get advanced warning. Iroh had made their existence quite intolerable with his elaborate pranks and had caused many to leave. Unfortunately, one opponent wasn't that easy to remove.
"I'm not afraid of Father," Iroh said shortly, lying through his teeth. He was terrified of his father, just hearing his voice was enough to give Iroh a terrible stomach ache. Iroh being the eldest got the brunt of the punishment. Father often ignored poor Ozai when he wasn't ridiculing and berating him for being "stupid and weak". "They can't make me abandon my favorite brother. Besides, it wasn't so horrible, I was fine."
"You fainted," Ozai supplied helpfully. Iroh rolled his eyes, his brother was a strange one. All right, so Father had laid the cane on a bit hard. Iroh would take it and more for his beloved baby brother. He blamed himself when things went wrong for him. Sometimes Father would hurt Ozai just to make Iroh beg for mercy. He knew how Ozai was the most important person in the world to him, Iroh would do anything for him. In many ways, he felt like more of a father to his brother then the tyrant who spawned them both. Someone had to protect Ozai after all and Iroh knew that Father was not the protective type or the understanding type for that matter. From an early age, Iroh had learned that the world was a horrible and frightening place, no one could be trusted.
"Do you want to be tickle tortured?" Iroh asked, as he continued inking the dots on the page. Ozai shook his head. "Then keep guard. Let me worry about that. " He sighed to himself as he continued inking. He hoped it worked.
"So, what are all those dots?" Ozai asked in a soft voice, kneeling back down next to Iroh.
"I am glad you asked. You just trace these dots to make the characters for the essay, then it looks like you wrote the essay," Iroh explained, demonstrating the first character.
"Iroh, you're a genius! What would I do if I didn't have you?" Ozai smiled gleefully, as he began to trace his homework. He looked so much better now, so much happier.
"That will never happen. When I am Fire Lord, the two of us are going to rule the world together. Then other kids will have to read about Ozai the Great, the greatest General the world has ever known."
"You really think so?" Ozai asked, his eyes shining.
"I know it. Come on, you can finish your homework later. Let's throw water on the servants!" Iroh suggested, as his brother giggled. Time for some mischief!
Iroh growled and hid his head under the covers. He needed a drink and soon. That prince better be there so Iroh could get on with his life!
The storm finally passed after three more days of waiting. Iroh had broken his vow and drunken himself into a stupor the night before they arrived. The hangover had not helped his migraine. As he sat in his dark chambers, he wondered what the baby prince would look like. Would he look like Hanae's fragile beauty or would he have Ozai's features? Iroh reminded himself he didn't care. This was a mini-Ozai, he know the pain those innocent eyes could cause, the hatred that could be hidden with a sweet face. As far as he was concerned, this child was nothing to him but the property of a departed friend.
The mission was already underway as the ship sailed into Kasumi Harbor. The advance guard had already sailed away on a steam ship and were taking their places on the island. The ship had raised the standards of Nihonbashi's family. Iroh would be disguising himself as a common soldier and member of Ichiro's honor guard, a Fire-Nation mask covering his rather recognizable face. After all the massacres he had participated in, especially the burning of the Earth Kingdom city of Xing Feng and the siege of Ba Xing Xe, he had been called the Dragon of the West. The name that struck fear into those around him. But for now, he was just Lt. Joji, a humble Firebender in the service of the Baron. He stood in the ranks with the other soldiers. The secret weapon had been taken out of his prison cell and had been cleaned up a bit. Ichiro was now standing at the crow's nest, pale and shaking. Iroh had explained to the boy that if he ever wanted to see his father again, he would have to cooperate. Ichiro had spent the last few days chained in the prison hold and Iroh had a feeling he had not been treated too gently.
When they arrived at the harbor, a servant of Nihonbashi was already waiting to board. "What news do you bring from his Grace, young master?" the liveried servant asked Ichiro as soon as he arrived on the ship. Two young slaves waited in the background to be given orders.
"My Lord Father sent me to check on the delivery. He also sent me with fresh soldiers to guard the little bauble," Ichiro whispered, his voice quivering.
"Of course. Are you all right, young master? You seem a bit green," the servant asked, looking sharp-eyed at the shaking young nobleman. Iroh tensed, hoping Ichiro could pull this off. He hated to lose the element of surprise and risk the prince's safety.
"We went through a storm and I got a bit sea-sick. I'll be all right as soon as I get ashore," Ichiro mumbled, staring at the floor.
"As you wish, Master. Please come along, there is a hot bath waiting for you. I am sure you could use it after such a long journey," the servant said, bowing deeply and waving Ichiro to a palanquin waiting on shore.
Ichiro stumbled down the gangway and unto the palanquin, trying in vain to keep his dignity. Iroh almost pitied the poor boy, he had always been timid and shy, a deficient warrior who preferred to be a scholar. He was not the typical Fire nation nobleman and only his powerful father had saved him from being mocked and ridiculed by the martial society. As he stepped into the litter, Iroh wondered if young Ichiro knew what he was in for. Four of the honor escort generously provided by Iroh picked up the litter, all according to plan.
Iroh fell into line, following the palanquin like a good soldier. He wondered if he could trust Ichiro to keep his mouth shut and keep with the plan. One word from the boy and the entire plan could go crashing down. Well, Ichiro had been warned and he wasn't stupid. He knew that the fate of the entire family depended on his cooperation. Iroh looked at the marketplace of Kasumi as he and the men marched by. The island was quite prosperous, known for it's fine pottery and elegant weaving. Yet Iroh could see the scars of war even on the happy island. There were few young men around that weren't slaves and many of the older free men were battle scarred. Iroh recognized a few of the men as those he had served over. Small world, wasn't it?
The procession took a strange turn, as they took the long way around the palace towards the rear entrance. Iroh knew Ichiro would be growing a bit nervous, wondering why they hadn't taken the main road. Iroh smiled, waiting for the signal. It wouldn't be long till the trap sprung. Iroh could see the top of Nobu Hall and was pleased to note it was not well fortified. Nihonbashi could not risk building up troops or supplies without risking discovery of his plan. It was an excellent stroke of luck; it would make finding the prince easier.
A low bird whistle came through the trees. The game was afoot! Without hesitation, Lieutenant Dinh had already raced over to the palanquin and shoved up the door. "I am tired of following your orders, you spoiled brat! Your father isn't here to help you now!" he roared, grabbing the boy and pulling him out. Ichiro's large eyes were bulging with terror.
The Kasumi staff were just as surprised. "What is the meaning of this?" the servant demanded angrily reaching for his sword. Of course, he was outnumbered twelve to four for now.
"It's called a mutiny. We don't want to play nursemaid to some rich brat anymore," another soldier, shoving a shaking Ichiro to the ground. The poor boy was terrified out his wits, just as Iroh had planned.
"Someone please help me!" Ichiro called, obviously thinking he had been double crossed. Iroh smiled. The frightened boy was playing right into their hands. As planned, the servant had already reached for his horn and was blowing for help. One of the slaves had escaped through the trees in the direction of the palace to get help.
"You'll pay for this mutiny, you peasant scum. When the Fire Lord hears about this…" the chief servant sputtered as he was restrained by one of Iroh's men. Ichiro had been tied to a tree, with a gag shoved in his mouth. The former heir to the Barony had definitely fallen a long way. Iroh had to pity him a bit, the poor kid must think he was about to get his throat slit.
"Hears what?" Iroh asked, removing the mask for a moment. He watched with pleasure as the servant blanched. Clearly, he hadn't expected Iroh to still be alive after the plan his master had set.
"It's a…." he managed to say before a gag had been shoved into his mouth. Iroh replaced the mask and waited for the soldiers in the palace to rush out and defend their young master. Hopefully, they wouldn't think the attack was about Zuko and things would go as planned. He wondered if Ozai would actually kill him if something happened to Zuko. He found himself not really caring. Death was everyone's constant companion, he had little to enjoy from life.
The sounds of war cries filled the air, as the honor guard assigned to Nobu Hall ran out to defend their master. The screams quickly turned to screams of terror as the archers posted in the trees killed them. Iroh's archers were not as famed as the celebrated Yuuyan archers, but they were extremely well trained and able to carry out every mission to satisfaction. Iroh felt bad killing his own country's men but it was necessary for the mission. Father always said that sacrifices must be made for the good of the state. A third bird whistle announced that the warriors had been taken care of. More sacrifices on the pyre.
Iroh and his men moved forward, storming the castle. "Find the Prince and bring him to the main hall. We'll meet back there in an hour," he commanded to his men as they raced into the marble halls. They split off into different directions at the entrence of the main hall. Iroh ignored the sounds of screaming as his men took out anyone who got into his way. He ran by the rooms, checking each one and slitting quite a few throats. Iroh could barely record his actions, he was too busy looking for the prince. As Iroh walked down into the dungeons, he heard a sniffle echo through the halls. Lightening his steps, he went down into the stone cavern used for holding prisoners. A little boy was sitting in the corner of the room. He was dressed in torn clothing which were covered with mud. His brown hair had been slicked back with sweat. He had no shoes on and he was shivering with cold. Around his neck was a thick metal leash which had been hooked to the wall on a hook high above his head. There was a cracked bowl on the floor, but no food inside it.
A guard was sitting with his back turned to Iroh, holding some bread high above the little prisoner's head. "Hungry, kid?" he kept asking, as the poor boy strained and reached for the food. "Well, get used to it." Iroh's blood boiled that anyone would treat a child this way. This would not be tolerated!
Moving quickly, he grabbed the guard from behind by the lapels. "Perhaps you enjoy teasing helpless children, but some of us still have honor," he snapped, picking the guard up and smashing him into the wall. The guard was too surprised to even react fast enough. The sickening crack of hitting the wall sounded wonderful to Iroh.
He checked to make sure that the soldier was knocked out. Yes, the blaggard wouldn't be moving for a while. Turning around, he heard the sound of terrified weeping from the wide-eyed captive. The poor mite had covered his face with his hands, as if trying to hide.
"Prince Zuko?" Iroh managed to stammer. He prayed that this was not the right child. Surely, they would treat a prince with more respect then this crumpled heap of pain and terror. This couldn't be his nephew!
The toddler froze at the sound of the name. He had been badly treated. There were bruises on his cheeks, and a large cut on his forehead. His arms were bruised up as well, and there were angry rope burns on the boy's wrists and ankles which oozed puss and was most likely infected. Tears were running down his dirty cheeks as he tried to hide, but the leash kept him from moving too far.
"I am here to help. I won't hurt you," Iroh continued, trying to gain the child's confidence, so he could be sure. The little boy seemed to become a little more confident at hearing that. He removed his hands and looked up at Iroh with enormous golden eyes. He had Hanae's eyes, large expressive ones that were now filled with dread. Yes, for better or worse, this was his nephew, who was now trying to shrink into the wall.
"Prince Zuko, I said I won't harm you," Iroh repeated, bending down on one knee to speak to the boy. The golden eyes didn't look convinced. They studied him with the terror a child of that age should not know. Iroh sighed and pointed to his red clothing. "Fire Nation."
The boy shrunk from him, trying to pull away. "Thowwy…be good now…thowwy…" he murmured softly. He seemed to be waiting for a blow.
Iroh winced. What had they done to the poor child? When he got his hands on the Baron, he'd ensure that the man suffered for what he did to his own relative. The man treated his own children well, but had not the common decency to have mercy on an innocent child. "I am not angry, Prince Zuko. I am here to help you." He might as well have been talking to the wall, not the trembling tyke who most likely was too scared to even listen.
He know only one way to make the boy believe him. He bent a stream of fire in front of the boy, making pretty shapes. It was a game Iroh used to play with Ozai when they were tiny. The boy's eyes brightened immediately. "Fiya thow," he whispered, clapping his tiny hands. "Like Fada!"
Iroh smiled, completely charmed by the boy's joy. He couldn't resist a grin as he untied the leash and picked up the boy into his arms, heedless of how filthy he was. "Yes, the fire show. Your father sent me to get you," he informed the boy. To his surprise, the boy wrapped his arms around Iroh's neck and leaned his head on his shoulder. It was an oddly soothing feeling, having this small warm body pressed against his chest. "No one is going to hurt you anymore. I am going to make sure you are safe. I swear it," he informed the boy. He intended to keep that promise, no matter what the cost was.
"No leave?" the young prince asked desperately, his voice still quivering with fear. He gripped Iroh's neck tightly, latching on to him.
Iroh gave him a quick hug. "I won't leave you," he promised, unsure why he was so choked up. He didn't even like children, including his own. When one of his mistresses would get pregnant, he'd just arrange one of the soldiers to marry her. He didn't even know the names of his own children, who were raised as peasants. He supposed it was just natural to feel pity. No one shouldn't be tortured like this, unless of course they were children of a certain Fire-Lord that Iroh didn't like to think about.
The boy snuggled against him. "Mine," he declared in a high childish voice, close to Iroh's ear.
Iroh resisted an urge to smile. "Yes, Prince Zuko. I'm your uncle," he informed him. He reached into his pocket with his free hand and took out a piece of bread. "Hungry?" Kids liked food, didn't they?
"Unka?" the little boy chirped questioningly. His eyes grew big when he saw the food. He grabbed it and inhaled it with an urgency that made Iroh see the child hadn't been feed properly. When he got his hands on more of Baron Nihonbashi's men, he would personally see them suffer for what they did. "Pwin Zuko love Unka."
Iroh stopped in his tracks. At that moment, he forgot that this boy was the flesh and blood of his brother, the brother who had given him so much pain. No one had told him they loved him since Lien. He patted the top of the boy's grimy head, as he walked over the broken bodies on the floor. How sentimental he was becoming. This boy would love anyone who saved him from being treated like a dog. Iroh wasn't loved, the boy was just a bit confused. Ozai's child wasn't capable of unconditional love. He stepped out into the courtyard, to begin work.
After ensuring the prisoners were locked in the dungeons to await the fire-lord's justice, it was nearly dark. Iroh had decided to camp here, rather then try and return to the Fire Lord. The men were tired and frankly, Iroh had no urge for Zuko to see his father. He did not know how Ozai would react to him. He had wrapped the little boy in a spare blanket, keeping him swaddled to spare him further sights of bloodshed. It had amused his troops to no end to see their formidable general running around, holding a child.
Iroh would have happily put him down and attend to his duties, but the boy had refused to let go of him. Zuko had screamed and cried the moment Iroh even slightly loosened his grip. Iroh understood that such behavior was not supposed to be tolerated in a child, but the boy had been through much. He deserved comfort. He'd wait till the boy was sleeping till he executed some of the traitors.
Now the two of them were seated in a spare room, eating. Zuko was seated next to him on a pile of cushions, looking far happier. He was happily gorging on food, clearing his plate with alarming speed. He kept looking up, as if someone was going to take it away from him.
Iroh had to slow him down before the poor boy made himself sick. It was quite ironic, a prince, the son of the most powerful man in the land had been starving. Although it was probably not the best idea for Zuko to remain in the place he had been imprisoned, at least this room was comfortable and lavish.
"Prince Zuko, you will get more food. You can slow down, no one will take it away from you," he said, pushing the boy's hand down as Zuko tried to cram another amount of food into his mouth. He was amazed at the resemblance between Zuko and the rest of the royal family. It was almost like seeing Ozai again, young and innocent. Zuko's golden eyes looked up at him, and Iroh realized that Zuko wasn't innocent anymore. The pain he had gone through had been the first loss of the ideal childhood that royals never had. "Just ring this bell pull and someone will serve you. You know that, Prince Zuko," he instructed.
Zuko nodded and gave the rope a long yank. He seemed to enjoy that and yanked the bell pull a few more times for good measure. A soldier came into the room, bowing deeply. "The fort is secure. We've combed everywhere. Everyone is accounted for," he said. "Is there anything else I can get you, general?" he continued. Before Iroh could speak up, he heard words that chilled him with sadness.
"Want Mama," Zuko piped up, his eager face filled with such hope. Iroh's heart sank, how could he tell this already wounded boy that his mother was dead. The soldier took a step towards the two of them, wanting to whisper something to Iroh.
"NO!" Zuko tried to crawled behind Iroh the moment the soldier took a step towards him. The poor boy looked quite terrified. Obviously, he had been punished for speaking to his captors. The cut above his left eye was a testament to that. "UNKA!"
The poor soldier turned bright red and stared at the ground. "General, I apologize for scaring his highness," he mumbled as he slunk backwards.
Iroh patted the head of the young prince. "This is one of your soldiers, Prince Zuko. He is here to protect you, you have nothing to fear," he assured the trembling toddler, who cuddled against him. "I gave you my promise, no one will hurt you while I am here."
Zuko obviously had had his orders ignored for the last few days. After checking to insure Iroh was still there, he tried again. "Want Mama now!" he repeated, his eyes filling with tears.
"Prince Zuko, finish your dinner like a good boy," Iroh tried, hoping against hope he could distract the little boy. He couldn't bear to see the little boy hurt like this. Hadn't he suffered enough?
"WANT MAMA," Prince Zuko demanded. Iroh tried to reach over and pat his shoulder, but sparks were flying…quite literally. The boy's clenched fists were filling with fire! His bending powers were already developing at such an early age? Iroh was amazed. Most children couldn't bend fire till they were at least three. He quickly brushed away the sparks and pulled the angry boy over to him. He actually had no idea what he was doing, but he supposed he couldn't make things worse. Lord Sajja, Iroh's father, would have smacked the poor boy into submission. Father had never tolerated crying and had insured that by the time Iroh was four, he couldn't shed a tear for anything. Well, hitting the child might end the problem but Iroh had sworn not to hurt this boy again. Making Zuko fear him was not going to help restore Zuko's composure.
"Prince Zuko…look at me," he directed calmly. Zuko ignored him, trying to squirm away. "Prince Zuko, we must talk. I am trying to help you." Why wasn't he listening to him? "Prince Zuko, you must calm down. I command you," he continued. Iroh could not believe the spoiled nature of his child. His fist clenched, before he realized how angry he was getting.
He had to keep calm, he had to be gentle with him. He would not be like his father! Of course the child wanted his mother, Iroh was overreacting completely. He cupped the boy's chin in his hand, trying to lock eyes with him. Iroh would have to tell him, he couldn't risk the boy asking Ozai and getting him angry. Iroh wanted to believe Ozai would never hurt his child, but Iroh knew the curse of his family was to destroy their own children. After all the pain the Fire Lord has gone through, no one knew what direction Ozai's mood would turn. Iroh knew how coldly violent his brother could get. "These people who took you, they hurt you, didn't they?"
Zuko nodded sadly, not understanding. Tears filled his eyes as he began to tremble. He took a fist and mimicked the gesture of slapping, then pointed to himself. He then pantomimed tying something and pointed to his hands and feet. He put his hand on his throat where the leash had been. Iroh watched angrily as Zuko buried his head in his chest and cried. "Why?" he wept, completely confused.
Iroh hugged him close, wishing he could wipe away the boy's confusion. "They were bad people," he explained, his heart breaking. He understood that Zuko was the heir to the throne, but he was an innocent! Why had they felt the need to abuse him, he had done nothing but be born? And why did Iroh care so much? He had done horrible things, burned villages, killed thousands. What did one life mean?
"Vewy bad," Zuko agreed through his sobs. "Want Mama." Iroh cupped his chin and made him look up at him. Here was the worst part. He would have to dash this boy's spirit against the rocks. "Love Mama."
"Well, these people also hurt your mother. They hurt her very badly. Then the great God Agni took her away to the spirit world. Now, no one can ever hurt her again,"
"Thpiwit wold?" Zuko's shoulders slumped, obviously confused.
"Yes, the spirit world is a beautiful place. It has beautiful flowers everywhere in every color you can imagine. Blue, pink, purple, yellow and of course, red. Everyone is happy there, sitting by a beautiful river. Everyone is warm and safe and good. Your mama is sitting there, with a beautiful crown of flowers and a lovely dress. She is with all her friends," Iroh rhapsodized.
"Pwin Zuko go too?" the toddler asked eagerly. His eyes had lit up and he looked so hopeful. That poor child, how much more pain would he have to go through?
Iroh's eyes widened. "No, you can't go. You won't be able to go there, so don't even try and look," he explained. Zuko might do something foolish, how he wished he would have not painted death so prettily.
"Mama come back?" Zuko asked, staring up at him with a pleading expression that made Iroh's heart break. His lower lip was trembling.
"No, Prince Zuko. Mama won't be coming back," Iroh said quietly, wishing he knew what to do now.
"NO!" Zuko screamed. He tried to pull away, but Iroh held him firmly. The boy pounded his tiny fists against him. "Mama!" he wailed, weeping hysterically. Iroh just held him, trying to be comforting.
"I know, I know, " he murmured, rubbing his nephew's back. The poor boy was shuddering with tears, this week had been exhausting to him. He needed to rest before he worked himself into a fit. Iroh wish he had some herbs to calm his nephew down. He suddenly had an urge for sake, all this pain and sadness was getting to him. All he wanted to do was protect this fragile little boy from the entire world.
Iron realized how fond he was becoming of this child. He just didn't understand it. He must be overwhelmed by the stress of the day. As soon as they returned, Zuko would be returned to his father and the servants, and Iroh could return to his decadent meaningless existence. He patiently held the weeping prince until the sobs grew slower, as the exhausted little boy cried himself to sleep. When the boy's tear-filled eyes had finally closed, Iroh found himself feeling strangely at peace. He could not deal with this sadness much longer.
The soldier had lingered in the corner of the room, looking really ashamed of himself. "Take him to a spare room with a bed. Have someone stand guard over him at all times," Iroh commanded, handing over the trembling little form. "Make sure he's warm." He was becoming too attached to this boy, he had to pull away before he got his heart broken again. This boy didn't belong to him. Iroh was a general, not a nurse-maid.
"Yes General," the soldier said softly, cradling his future lord. Iroh resisted the urge to pull the child from him and decided to indulge in some sake. Yes, he could finally get drunk again.