"Brother? I'm scared."
Iroh grunted and rolled over, squinting blearily at the child shrouded in darkness. "Ozai? Alright," he groaned, "c'mere and sit with big brother."
The young boy darted across the room and curled up into bed with his elder brother.
"Mmm, Ozai, you're got t'be almost 6…" Iroh grumbled, not really all that bothered as he rocked his baby brother back and forth, grumbling over the thunder crackling in the background. "You need to grow up soon…"
"How old are you big brother?" asked the mollified boy. "You aren't afraid."
"Of the storm? Of course not. I love storms," Iroh said, still more asleep than not.
"But maybe when you're 14, you will too. Alright, kid, c'mon, lets get you back to bed. Do you want to go make some tea, first, to help you sleep?"
The younger brother nodded. Iroh smiled (grimaced) and moved his feet to the ice-cold tile floor with a near silent hiss.
"Come on Ozai. Let's hit the kitchens first."
"Okay."
