Avatar: The Last Airbender Created By: Michael Dante DiMartino, Bryan Konietzko
Avatar: The Last Airbender Owned By: Nickelodeon, a subsidiary of Viacom
All original content and characters © Acastus
Chapter LX – All Good Things Come To An End
A week had passed and Iroh's wounds had begun to heal. The news of his impending exile had broken across the land like the wave that had devastated the army at Lake Myojin. Many had received the news during the very feasts given in honor of his triumph.
Shock and sorrow spread far and wide, for the fall of the hero from such commanding heights was so swift and devastating that none could fully comprehend what had happened. For a brief moment Iroh had become the hope and savior of a nation exhausted by war and driven deep in despair. Now, they feared, he would soon be gone and all the good that he had ever done would be swept away.
Thousands lined the docks as he entered the harbor to board the ship that would deliver him to captivity. He was kept in an iron carriage driven by prison guards. Macro and a company of palace guards rode komodo rhinos in front and behind.
The Fire Lord and the rest of the family would not see him off. He was a criminal.
Many in the throng were soldiers who had marched with him in the triumph only the day before. They had woken up from drunken revels to learn that their beloved leader had fallen in the most spectacular and unexpected way imaginable.
They yelled from the sidelines as his carriage passed. Unlike the day before when the tumult had been happy, celebratory and infused with flowers and glorious music, today's assemblage was filled with cries of lament and bitter tears, as if they had themselves lost a brother or son. They all felt the hope Iroh had brought going with him.
"We heard, Gen'ral!" Iroh heard a soldier from the outer islands yell, "We knows he done it! Ye did the right thing, ya did!"
"Long live General Iroh!" others cried through tears.
The carriage bounced along over the narrow cobblestone causeway that allowed access to the quays. When it stopped he lifted his head from his hands where he had listened to the clanking of his chains as the vehicle had traveled.
The door opened to reveal bright sunlight. A pair of guards stood on either side of the door. Macro stood beyond, his armor bright.
"Come forth," Macro commanded quietly.
He applied no honorific, for Iroh's titles had been stripped, but his tone retained respect. Whatever games Macro had played, he had lost his benefactor and now tread carefully. As his prisoner's experience demonstrated, Fate was capricious, its turns often sudden and violent.
Iroh stood and descended the solitary step onto the street.
The guards formed up behind him as Macro led the way to the bare, lonely transport that awaited.
Dimly Iroh recalled the arrest of Master Chen and wondered if he looked now as his friend's master had looked then.
Gan and to his great relief, Chieng awaited him at the jetty. As soon as he exited the carriage the slight engineer ran to him as she had on the steppes, her black hair flailing about her shoulders. She embraced him and buried her face in his chest. The guards moved to push Iroh along, but Macro signaled them to allow it.
The crowd looked on in silence with tears of sympathy and downcast faces.
"I'm coming with you!" she vowed.
"No!" he replied, his body tensing painfully at the thought, "You can't! I won't let you! You're needed here!"
"No, I'm not! I want to be with you!"
"I want to be with you, so much!" he admitted, his voice thick, "I want a life with you! Wait for me! I swear I will return, somehow, I will return!"
She hugged him fiercely and fresh tears sprang from her eyes.
"I love you! I want a life with you too! I don't want anything else!"
"We belong to each other then, Ten-Ten," he vowed, the chains of his servitude clanking as they slid heavily across her back, "you are my love, my only one!"
"Yes, I am yours, Iroh… if you will have me! And though I've hated that name my whole life I give it to you and only you to call me!"
He hugged her close and lifted her off her feet. Then he put her back down, ran his hands through her hair and kissed her. She deepened the kiss and ran her hands through his hair in return.
They released each other. He could barely rip himself away from her golden eyes to turn to his friend.
Gan stood close by, tears welling at what he had just witnessed. He walked up and hugged Iroh himself.
"All good things come to an end, don't they?" Iroh asked in irony as he returned the gesture, his his voice still threatening to break.
Gan did not trust himself to reply.
"Take care of yourself, my friend," Iroh begged, "Please, look after her and Rhiannon if you can!"
"They don't need it, Iroh, but I will, I promise."
Gan released him and stepped back to stand beside Chieng.
"She will be heartbroken when she hears," Iroh confessed through tears.
"I know, but she is prepared for this more than we could ever possibly be… and while you live, there is hope," Gan replied.
Iroh nodded bitterly and turned back to his mate. Her took her hands in his and kissed them.
"Please, my love, have mercy on Rhiannon! Help her if you can!" he pleaded, "She's alone now, and she's the only sister I will ever have. She'll blame herself for this and it's not… it's not her fault. It was my choice to protect you… and her… and Gan. She saved us all, just as Nikon did, but she will punish herself so badly for it!"
"Governor T'zan is strong and brave, Iroh," she replied in a comforting and confident voice, "and she will have a friend in me for life, I promise. That was Nikon's greatest gift to me."
She looked down.
"That fool," she reflected with bitterness, "he showed me that friends are the only things worth having… then popped off and got himself killed."
He hugged her once more.
"Do you know where you're going?" Gan asked.
Chieng looked up to hear Iroh's response.
"Planasia."
Chieng and Gan exchanged a glance, wiped the tears from their eyes and nodded to each other.
"We'll find it," Gan vowed.
"No heroics, Gan," Iroh commanded, then to Liu's daughter, "and nothing from you either, my love! Promise me!"
She declined with a smile. Gan crossed his arms in front of him.
"I'm not sure we'll need to Iroh," he replied, successfully avoiding a commitment as well, "We'll see how the war goes without you… without us."
Iroh looked back and forth between them.
"You can't just quit because of me," he commanded them sternly, "Chieng, you must go forward with the new tank designs, no matter what happens to me! Victory for the Fire Nation is more important than this silly drama! Our soldiers can't pay the –"
Chieng shook her head and smiled once more. He loved her smile. How quickly he had become accustomed to the smile she radiated only for him. He tried as they spoke to drive the image permanently into his memory. The real article would be far behind soon enough.
"Already corrected," she assured him, "I have a good solution that will save many lives, but," she continued, her expression hardening, "I will design no more weapons until you are released. I don't give a god damn what my father says."
They kissed once more and separated.
Macro stepped forward. It was time to go.
The crowd waited expectantly for Iroh to address them. He raised his manacled hands to point at the thousands of soldiers and common citizens who stood around them. Macro considered the implicit request, then nodded once more.
Iroh stepped up onto a small crate so his voice could carry farther. He addressed his followers in a loud, confident voice. Many of the faces he saw had been among the mutineers who refused to cross the desert. Back then they had to be convinced of his leadership. Now there was no doubt. Young as he was, they looked up to him as a father.
"Comrades, we have been through much together. We have known victory, defeat and everything in between. We began our journey young in mind and heart. That innocence is gone, but we have learned much about ourselves and the world, knowledge paid for with our dearest blood.
Today I go into exile, but yet I live. Do not grieve for me when so many of our best never returned home at all. Remember them, keep them close in your hearts and minds as I do and celebrate the victory we won together for the sake of the Fire Nation!
For myself I can only say this. I never knew what honor meant until I served with you. Now, I know, the greatest honor I have had in my life was the command of the Army of the Great Divide. If Agni smiles on me once more, it would be my privilege to lead you wonderful people into battle… anytime… anywhere."
Iroh scanned the enormous throng once more.
He saluted, his chains making a clinking sound of metal against metal. Thousands of soldiers returned the salute, their arms and hands filling the air with the sound of their uniform motion.
"Hail, General Iroh!" they cried in unison.
They repeated the cheer twice more as he boarded the prison ship, a sadder and wiser man than when he and his friends had embarked for Gela so long ago, to serve his exile in a lonely, foreign land.
"And so it was, most noble guests," the storyteller at long last concluded, "though he found himself in exile most bitter, weighed down by the chains of servitude, this was not the end for General Iroh. In truth, his story was just beginning, and as the ship bearing him across the sea slipped from sight, he did but turn another page."
The audience, sensing that the story was nearing its end, had roused itself to hear the characters final goodbyes. Enemy though they were, the universal and everlasting themes of star crossed lovers separated by forces beyond their control, of vows of friendship and loyalty in circumstances most dire, had their effect on the assembled guests.
Gao ended his speech with a flourish and low bow to the master of the house who stood up, tears running down his enormous jowls, and began clapping loudly. The rest of the audience did the same.
Iroh, stony faced despite a few tears that had escaped his discipline, pulled his nephew up by the arm in imitation of their neighbors.
The storyteller bowed once in each cardinal direction before returing to look upon his benefactor.
The applause was long and genuine, and Gao smiled broadly knowing he had pleased his audience.
"My dear old man!" Trimazu began once the clapping had subsided, "I must admit you have earned your enormous fee! Your skill and passion are without parallel and you are truly a master of a most difficult craft!"
"I am honored, Master Trimazu, I know your standards are high."
"They are, but you have exceeded them!" he congratulated in genuine admiration, "You have captivated your audience and made my party once again the envy of the four plains region! It is as if General Iroh himself was brought before us tonight!"
The fat man turned to his lowly guests.
"Isn't that right, Xian?"
Iroh looked down at the floor, declining to make eye contact with his host. The silence stretched a moment too long, prompting the old storyteller to make inquiry.
"Pardon, was the story not to your liking?"
The retired general started slightly, knowing he must make some kind of response.
"Uh, no, Master Gao, it was… a tremendous story and well told. Forgive me, sir, I am old, and I myself was young in those days." Iroh laughed quietly and continued, "When you reach our age, it is often painful to remember one's youth, isn't it?"
The storyteller smiled once again, saying, "Yes, friend, you are much wiser than your appearance suggests! Tell me now, like many here you seemed to feel our enemy's plight at the end, did you feel sympathy then for General Iroh after all he had done to destroy us?"
Iroh's smile withered. He felt Prince Zuko's eyes on him. He considered his response and decided on the truth.
"Yes, Master Gao, I did."
Gao clapped his hands once and bowed extravagantly.
"Then I have succeeded!"
Suddenly the banished prince, unable to contain himself, burst in.
"Wait! Who left Tien Shin's message in, uh…Prince Iroh's apartment? How can you finish the story without telling us that!?"
"Oh," Gao responded slyly, turning his head and putting a finger to the side of his nose, "Hadn't you guessed?"
"No," came the acidic and impatient reply, "Or I wouldn't have asked!"
Trimazu regarded the banished prince out of the corner of his eye as Gao furnished a response.
"Why, Prince Ozai, of course."
The scarred young man's chest heaved in anger.
"That's a lie! My…" he was stifled by Iroh's light step on his foot, "I mean, how could that be? Why would he do something like that? Didn't Tien Shin do it?"
Zuko looked back and forth between the storyteller and his uncle.
"Well, some believe the elder prince did indeed plant the letter, hoping to excite Iroh to attempted murder, which is of course what happened," Gao stroked his beard in thought, "but I myself believe it happened as I have related. Tien Shin was much too careful to risk direct combat with the likes of Iroh."
Prince Zuko looked down, a look of sullen displeasure on his face.
"Well," Trimazu segued, "let's wrap this up, eh?"
The fat man beamed a wide smile and clapped twice.
A servant appeared from nowhere.
"Yes, your Corpulence?"
"Bring forth the payment!" he boomed.
"Oh, stones and scree," chided Chen Ho, "do you ever tire of thinking up new and improved ways to debase yourself, Trimazu?"
"No, my friend, besides you know I'm doing you a favor satisfying your curiosity!" he continued in his conspiratorial tone, "You really should be thanking me."
"What does it matter at this point, Ho?" Tao offered, "We might as well indulge ourselves since he obviously won't let us escape without shoving it in our face."
Chen Ho groaned in reply.
Moments later two servants appeared pushing a tiny wheelbarrow filled with gold coins.
"Five thousand gold pieces!" Trimazu cackled in glee, jabbing a fat finger at the obscene pile of lucre.
Gao's eyes, bulging noticeably, bowed low with an elegant flourish.
"You are truly generous, lord!"
"I am! I am! I gladly pay you five times the amount agreed for the best holiday entertainment I have ever had the pleasure to offer my most noble guests!"
The audience ogled the small mountain of wealth with undisguised desire, but everyone clapped once more as the storyteller was escorted out the way he had entered, his massive fee in tow.
"Now get the hell out of here, Gao!" Trimazu shouted at the thin man's retreating form, "before one of my less than scrupulous "guests" robs you on the way out to pay off their enormous debts to me with my own money!"
Gao, taking him at his word, batted the servants out of the way and vacated the room immediately pushing his massive load.
Trimazu turned to address the assembly.
"Now, my friends, I daresay you have dined well and been spoiled with a rare and unusual tale! Go now in peace and friendship – and tell your neighbors how much fun you had!"
The master of the house roared in good natured laughter and was joined by his guests.
Conversations erupted around the room as the audience broke from their tables. Dawn would soon arrive and the guests, sleepy and full, made ready to depart, to spread word of the outrageous acts, generous table and fantastic entertainment of Trimazu's pleasure palace to all those who poor unfortunates who had not been invited.
As the crowd streamed from the chamber, Chen Ho and Tao stood ready to thank their extravagant host.
"So, my friends, I am so glad you favored me with your attendance. I trust the evening was well spent?"
"Don't be a fool, Trimazu," Ho replied is his customarily acidic tone, "you know the truth as well as I. Everyone knows you delight in lending others money so you can abuse them in every possible manner, especially by requiring attendance at these disgusting "events", but what you obviously don't get is that the real reason we put up with you is so we have someone to look down upon. No further evidence of our superiority is needed than you."
"A shame then, my lord Ho," Trimazu replied without batting an eyelash, "that my power is such that you feel compelled to attend no matter your sentiment. I look forward to seeing you at my next celebration."
Chen Ho snorted.
"The only way to end this war quickly is to threaten the Fire Lord with an invitation to one your parties, Trimazu."
The fat man laughed.
"Oh, the trouble with you, Chen," he replied in wry amusement and using his neighbor's given name for the first time Iroh could recall, "is that you never get any fun out of life."
"All right, I understand," the thin noble acknowledged in impotent frustration, "but could you just stop being such an ass about all of it?"
"Haha! My friend, you ask too much of me. You have your pomp and circumstance – and I have your pomp and circumstance! Surely you don't mind sharing? Mmmm?"
Chen Ho shook his head and waved an arm in a gesture of both farewell and defeat.
Trimazu turned to Tao Lin.
"Well! I hope you've had a better time than my dear Lord Ho has, Governor!"
"I suppose I have, Master Trimazu," Tao agreed, "For myself I thank you for a most enjoyable evening."
The austere governor turned to the two erstwhile day laborers.
"Well met, Xian… Li, I wish you success wherever the journey of life takes you."
Iroh bowed, followed a fraction of a second later by Zuko.
"The honor is ours, Lord Governor," Iroh replied, "to share a table with you this evening."
Tao departed.
The dining hall was almost empty. Trimazu turned to his two saviors.
"Well, Xian, we have had quite an evening!"
Iroh, exhausted beyond all endurance, could not help but agree.
"Yes, my lord, quite an evening."
The portly merchant looked on Iroh with sympathy.
"You're exhausted, my friend, aren't you? Of course you are, you labored all day, fought a battle for me at dusk, and stayed up all night listening to tales of war in a far off land."
Iroh's eyelids drooped.
"Yes, lord… you have been most generous."
"Sleep then now," the obese merchant commanded quietly, "enjoy the rest you have earned."
The merchant clapped his hands once more. A servant, silent and ubiquitous, appeared at his right hand.
"Take our honored guests to the west wing and see they are well treated."
Iroh bowed to his host, his young charge stiffly following suit.
As they travelled the wide, well lit corridors of the villa, Iroh and his nephew fell behind the servant leading them. Soon they found themselves alone for the first time that evening.
"Is it true, uncle? Did my father…?" the banished prince asked in a bitter, quiet voice.
"I don't know."
"Do you believe he did?"
Iroh sighed.
"Yes… but it doesn't matter now."
They walked in silence before Zuko finally continued.
"I have so many questions, uncle."
"They will have to wait," Iroh responded as they approached the door to their chamber.
The room was simple, but the beds were comfortable. In moments, they were asleep.
The afternoon sun streamed through the window.
Zuko opened his eyes to see his uncle already prepared to leave. He rubbed his eyes. He had slept heavily, but he found he was still tired.
"What time is it?"
"Time to leave," his guardian responded.
The banished prince suddenly perked up.
"Trouble?"
"No," the retired general responded, "but I think it would be best if we slipped away quietly."
Zuko nodded.
Clean clothes had been laid out for them both. Iroh had already changed and Zuko quickly followed suit.
Fixing their round, straw hats on their heads, they exited the bedchamber into a long, empty hallway. Less ornate than the reception hall or the vast audience chamber they had dined in the night before, it was nevertheless impressive in its size and length.
They headed the opposite way they had come and exited the hallway into a large, grass covered courtyard. A riding ring dominated the enclosure, but no people or ostrich horses were about. Two small, metal doors graced the far end. Iroh pointed at them and set off in their direction, his nephew in tow.
Iroh grabbed the handle on the first door and twisted. The locking mechanism clanked and the retired general opened the door, its rusty hinges screaming in protest.
He stepped through. Zuko stepped through behind him. Beyond lay a vast, unspoilt countryside populated with evergreens.
A crossbow appeared at the nape of Iroh's neck.
They suddenly found themselves surrounded by a dozen men dressed in the dark green uniforms of the Earth Kingdom. All had crossbows aimed at them.
"Leaving so soon, Xian?" a familiar, booming voice questioned.
Iroh turned to see the Merchant of Shanxi standing before him. The finery he wore that morning was nowhere in sight. He wore a simple green tunic and black trousers. In his hand he carried a scroll with red stoppers.
"I would have thought you would at least have offered thanks before departing."
"Forgive us, lord," Iroh begged, "We did not wish to disturb your slumber."
"Why are you doing this!?" Zuko injected hotly, "Why are you threatening us? We've done nothing to you!"
Trimazu eyed the banished prince.
"Correct, Li," the fat man agreed, "You saved my life and I still owe you thanks for that, but there is this other matter to attend."
He produced the scroll and opened it. It was a copy of the "wanted" poster that Azula had distributed after they had escaped her trap.
Iroh and his charge stiffened slightly at the revelation.
"How strange that I should have guests who so closely resemble the fugitive Prince Zuko and the mighty General Iroh himself visit my humble abode."
The silence stretched. Zuko and Iroh scanned the armed men around them, silently and independently calculated their chances of survival. Both had assumed bending stances, though they and their opponents scarcely recognized it.
Iroh regarded their host. Gone was the silly and boisterous buffoon, miraculously replaced by the countenance of a shrewd and resolute personality of steel.
"What happens now, my lord?" Iroh finally inquired.
The merchant considered this and replied.
"What always happens, Xian, I make the best decision I can with the information I have."
He signaled his men to lower their crossbows.
"For all my fortune I am a small man, Xian," the fat man confided in a circumspect tone, "and though I can see the resemblance, I suppose I was mistaken…"
He rolled the scroll back up and placed it in his waistband. He approached Iroh and handed him a small purse.
"Here, take this small gift, and may the Earth Spirit guide you and your nephew to your destiny."
Iroh looked into the hard, resolute eyes of the merchant and replied in a low voice.
"You would take such a risk, Master Trimazu?"
"Risk is a part of life, Xian, as you know even better than I."
Trimazu scanned the landscape around them and continued in wistful tone.
"The tale of the Avatar's return has spread far and wide. The battle at the North Pole… perhaps, the first of many."
He met Iroh's gaze once more.
"Wherever General Iroh and the banished prince may be…I feel they yet have a part to play in the shape of things to come."
Iroh considered this.
"You are wise, my lord."
"Wise or not, my decision is made."
Iroh and Zuko left the Merchant of Shanxi as they had found him, on foot, traveling a dusty, nameless road, strangers in a strange land.
The infamous villa of the Merchant of Shanxi lay far behind them. The sun was close to the horizon before Zuko emerged from his melancholy to question his guardian about the fantastic events of the night before. For the first time he felt small and insignificant next to the man he had often treated so poorly.
"Was all that true, uncle? Did it really happen that way?"
Iroh was prepared for the questions and answered without hesitation.
"Yes, much of it anyway."
"Grandfather really banished you?"
"He did."
"Is that… is that why you came with me when father banished me?"
Iroh considered this.
"No, nephew, I came with you because I love you."
Zuko stiffened at the simple admission.
"But it's not fair! You were exiled without any way to regain your honor!"
"Life isn't fair, Prince Zuko."
"So you just… went to Planasia?"
"Yes," Iroh replied bitterly, "though I did not remain there long."
"What happened then, uncle?"
"The worst possible outcome."
"What do you mean?"
Iroh looked ahead, his expression distant, and replied.
"The war went on."
FINIS
A/N: Well, it is done then. I hope you've enjoyed the story. I didn't know how I'd react when I penned the last words. I thought I'd cry or be very sad. As it happens, I'm not. I've lived with these characters and this story for ten years. They are as real to me as my family and friends. As long as I live, they will live, vibrant and colourful, for all time.
I'd like to thank my lovely wife for editing the first third of the story long ago. Without her I don't know if this project would have gotten off the ground!
Comments from all readers are appreciated, but I'd like to thank LordStone and Fanwright especially for their many thoughtful reviews. I found this feedback of immeasurable help to calibrate later chapters.
Most importantly, I'd like to thank Colonel Brian. Over an 8 year hiatus in which this story was for all intents and purposes dead, he dared to hope that it would someday be completed. His belief in the power and importance of this tale revived in me my own belief that it was worth the effort.
You deserved to have this finished, Colonel, I hope you have enjoyed it.
Acastus
