The Final Rest

"A man needs his rest."

Even stranded in the middle of the Northern Ocean, shadowed by ancient icebergs, with no protection from the wind and snow but the clothes on his back, Iroh's heart warmed at the sight of Zuko laying himself down for a much needed sleep. The lad had been on a self-destructive campaign for the last few months, but Iroh took it as a hopeful beacon in the storm that Zuko had the strength to recline and rest when he really needed it. The older man half expected his nephew to risk life and limb in another attempt at capturing the Avatar, and Iroh truly had no idea what he would have done if the Prince had expressed a desire to once again infiltrate an ice fortress, filled with warriors, most of whom would be harboring anger over the loss of their princess and looking to relieve it on a perceived enemy. Yes, Zuko at least knew when it was wise to retreat. That already made him smarter than his father.

Iroh adjusted the sails of their little raft, and settled in for a long voyage.

The raft was bobbing along on the flowing sea, lost in a world devoid of color, when Iroh saw another reason why Zuko was better off in blissful unconsciousness. The battle against the Northern Water Tribe hadn't ended well, and bodies tended to float (especially since the navy switched to a new armor design that wouldn't sink). When the Ocean Spirit, using the fully empowered Avatar as its Waterbending conduit, had capsized the Fire Nation ships, the men aboard wouldn't have lasted long in the freezing waters.

Dark, frost-covered bodies floated everywhere. Black wreckages pierced the waters and moaned metallically in the wind.

Standing on the raft, Iroh bowed out of respect for the lives given in selfless service to their nation. He would have done more, but he was without any resource but his own self.

The scenery didn't change for hours. Icebergs continued to loom, and every so often, the prow of one of the larger Fire Nation ships would be sticking out of the water. The bodies always clustered around these monuments to defeat. The Incarnated Ocean Spirit hadn't journeyed very far from the Northern Water Tribe's city, from what Iroh had seen, but the effects of its tantrum were scattered far and wide. Iroh couldn't help but wonder how many he couldn't see.

As they passed one such sunken vessel, no different from the rest, Iroh felt a presence. He turned around to see Lieutenant Jee sitting beside Zuko's still body. The man's skin was blue, and Iroh couldn't help but feel that Zuko was also looking unpleasantly pale as he slept. "Lieutenant. I'm sorry to see that you did not survive the battle. I had been hoping for your safety."

Jee's specter nodded. "I served, and did not die for any incompetence on my part. It could have been worse."

The air had gone still, and even colder.

Iroh's eyes narrowed reflexively. Jee did not profess to any need for vengeance, but the appearance of ghosts was never a good sign, in Iroh's experience. Granted, seeing dead people was not a common occurrence in Iroh's life, but since his journey to the Spirit World, such phenomenon was not unknown. That Jee stayed by Zuko's side was worrisome. "I would think, then, that your soul would be at rest. Whatever your lack of political favor, I never heard anyone speak ill of your service or honor. Certainly, I considered you among the best of my fellows."

Jee's eyes flicked to the slumbering figure beside him. "Thank you, General. I'm more at rest for your regard. But I have one last duty. One last soul is being called to the Water. The boy will be able to get the rest he really needs."

Iroh inhaled sharply, and nearly began coughing at the frigidness of the air. "Zuko fought hard to survive the battle, and just barely escaped. I am taking him back to warm lands, to recover." The old Firebender began inching away from the boat's thin sail, towards the specter and the prince.

Jee's eyes were as cold as the air. Iroh caught the glittering of ice crystals in his mustache. "I'm sorry, General, but he's been Touched. The Ocean Spirit was preoccupied with Zhao, but Zuko was there. He was there when the Moon was slain, and didn't try to stop it."

"He wasn't," Iroh growled as his hands formed fists in obscuring sleeves, "conscious for Zhao's foolishness. Your sponsors would hold him accountable for not waking up on time?"

Jee turned to look out at the sea. Chunks of ice from a damaged iceberg bobbed in the water, soundlessly. "He lured the Avatar and his friends away from the Oasis. Zhao succeeded in his plan only thanks to Zuko's meddling. The Ocean demands that the proper price be paid. You've sailed long enough to know it can't be stopped."

"Jee," Iroh laughed bitterly, "I am known as a superstitious fool amongst most of the Fire Nation's leadership, but that doesn't mean I'm going to indulge every vengeful spirit whose path I cross! I helped Zuko get to the North Pole; should I drown myself now? Perhaps the Ocean Spirit will want words with the guards who weren't vigilant enough to catch Zuko? Or maybe one of the Avatar's friends should have stayed behind, just in case? If he hurries, the Ocean Spirit could catch them before they leave!"

Jee stayed quiet. He had a bit of a temper when he was alive, but something about being dead or frozen must have given him more control. "He's been called, General. I'm just following orders."

Zuko stirred in his sleep, pulling his limbs closer to his body for added warmth. Iroh knew that few enough Firebenders would have been able to survive this cold, never mind sleeping even semi-comfortably. It just went to show the degree that everyone underestimated the prince, and unjustly condemned him.

Everyone but his... uncle. Sometimes, no matter how often Zuko used his proper title, Iroh could not help but label himself as the boy's...

Iroh sighed. "Perhaps the Ocean Spirit would allow a trade, then. My life, for his. I may not have committed any crimes against the Ocean Spirit, at least that it recognizes, but no doubt my soul would be a powerful bargaining chip with the right Spirits."

Jee said nothing.

"Please." Iroh did not need to work to put the pleading tone in his voice. "I cannot lose another son..."

Jee nodded. "I am not empowered to bargain, but... you are a noble man, General. I will tell Zuko of this, afterward. It may be some comfort." He reached for the sleeping Prince.

Iroh, once known as the Dragon of the West, broke into motion. He went from trembling in place to lashing out with snapping strength and precise motion. His legs automatically slid into a stable stance, shaking the boat only slightly, and his fist launched out of his sleeve to spray a fountain of flames at the specter. The landscape all around briefly came alive with orange light, and Iroh's shout-like exhalation echoed across the water and off the walls of ice.

It did no good.

The flames flowed over Jee's armor like water over sealskin, lighting it up with the same intensity of sunlight on frost, and passed on into the empty air. Jee's color did not change, nor did he react in any way. He just waited for the flames to dissipate, and then placed a hand on Zuko. Water pulsed up from the sea to cover the raft where Zuko rested.

Iroh wanted to summon lightning, to blow away the space that this apparition inhabited, but doing so would likewise destroy Zuko. Iroh was completely at a loss.

Zuko floated, seemingly cozy, on the frigid water. Jee guided the bobbing body out over the open sea. The specter turned back to look at Iroh, and nodded in a kindly manner.

To ashes with it. Iroh swung his arms, and let the emotions in his heart polarize. He felt the separations grow heavy with energy.

Jee began quickly sinking below the water's surface, his hand resting on Zuko's shoulder.

Iroh continued the motion of the form, and felt electricity crackle at his fingertips.

Jee was submerged now, and Zuko began sinking with him. The prince stirred, and blinked his eyes in a panicked manner.

Iroh placed his focus on the still water where a dead man had just disappeared.

Zuko cried out, maybe for his uncle, maybe for his father.

Iroh let the lightning fly.

With a scream, Zuko plunged below the water.

The sea exploded with the fury of a thunderstorm.

The sight of a screaming Zuko disappearing into the blue-black depths hung in Iroh's view for moments after he awoke. He blinked to clear it, unsure if it was a true vision or the remnants of his mind. His hands found Zuko's warm, slumbering form before his eyes recovered.

Zuko was still there, sleeping contentedly. A dream. Or a vision. Either way...

Iroh shook Zuko gently, and his nephew quickly awoke. "F- Uncle?"

Iroh sighed happily. "It is your shift, Prince Zuko. I am getting too tired manning the sail, dozing off with bad dreams. Wake me in four hours?"

Zuko nodded with military discipline. "Of course, Uncle. Rest. We can both sleep more when we get back to Fire Nation territory." He slowly eased himself into a standing position. "Er... well, thank you for taking the first shift, Uncle. I needed a brief rest, but I'm ready to handle my share of the duties, now."

Iroh smiled. "I know, nephew." He patted Zuko's shoulder as they moved past each other. His form was warm beneath the white jumpsuit.

Iroh cleared his mind meditatively as he lay down to sleep. He didn't feel any unusual spirits or ghosts haunting their little raft. At least, none that were new. Maybe it was a dream after all. Iroh closed his eyes, and looked forward to returning to the comfortable old nightmares of years past.

END