I don't own Avatar: The Last Airbender or any settings or characters.

The Spirit World: The First Lesson

"Lu Ten? Lu Ten! Where are you?" Iroh stumbled forward. "LU TEN!" he hollered. His voice seemed to snap and then shatter into hundreds of shards on the last syllable, and a sob so violent that it shook his whole body coursed through him.

The monkey, disturbed from his meditation by the ruckus, opened his eyes. "You won't find him here, you know," he said in a bored, silky, patronizing drawl. "And in the Spirit World, shouting does you little good anyway."

Iroh turned to the monkey. His face was contorted by rage, grief and frustration; he looked half wild. Striding slowly, deliberately towards the spirit, he looked dangerous enough to make even the bravest warrior quail. The monkey, however, did not move a muscle. It watched him like a king might watch a peasant – with mild, condescending curiosity.

"Do you think I care?" Iroh said in a harsh, icy whisper. "Do you think I care? My son is gone – I want to find him! I need to find him! Tell me where he is."

"No," the monkey said simply. "Now come and sit by me." He gestured to a space on the plinth beside him.

"I've got no time for sitting!" Another sob jarred Iroh's ribs. "My son, my boy, he's gone – gone, and I must find him!"

"No, no, I insist. After all, it is a great honour to sit beside a spirit." The monkey raised an eyebrow and, just like that, Iroh found himself sitting on the plinth.

"How did you – how –" he spluttered, but then he shook his head. "It doesn't matter." He buried his face in his hands. His shoulders rose as he took in a deep breath, and when he looked back up at the monkey, his face was impassive, though tears were still wet on his cheeks. "Help me," he implored quietly.

"I am helping you," the monkey replied simply. "You moved me by your terrible grief," he added acerbically. "Grief that obviously nobody has ever felt before. And judging by the way you are treating me, you aren't very grateful."

"How is this helping me?" Iroh asked furiously. The semblance of calm he had managed a moment before vanished – it was too hard to keep the façade in place. He tried to stand up, but found that some mysterious force was making him sit down. It was the worst kind of torture. "I need to go – I need to do something! If you won't let me go, then I'll – I'll –"

"You'll what?" the monkey asked snidely. "You can't move, and I'm not letting you go anyway."

"But I –"

"You think you know everything?" The monkey laughed, baring his sharp teeth and shrieking hysterically at the canopy. Iroh, scared into silence by the sight of those glittering fangs, simply watched him, hands clenched into fists, teeth gritted. "Do you know how many people have come to me, wanting their loved ones back? I have been sitting here since time out of mind, pondering the meaning of everything – I was so close when you disturbed me – and I know more than any mortal. I know what's best here."

"I don't have time for this," Iroh replied shortly, but he couldn't get up. Instead, he turned away from the monkey. Grief ripped at his insides like a wolf, tearing him with sharp teeth, trying to break free.

"Oh, don't you? How do you know? In the Spirit World, time doesn't run at a constant speed. But, of course, being the all-knowing being that you are, I'm sure you already understand that which it took me an age to comprehend."

"I don't care."

The monkey tutted, shaking his head. "Yes, you do," he said, in a voice that was suddenly much softer. "Poor little mortal. Your lives are so fleeting, and so brief! No wonder you have no time for patience. Running around, shouting, always hurrying to the next thing; I pity you, truly I do, even if you are all stupid." Iroh didn't respond to being called stupid. He didn't care about anything – nothing but finding his son. He tried, once again, and unsuccessfully, to break the bonds that kept him sitting down. "Have a cup of tea," the monkey told him softly, and at that Iroh's head jerked sharply around to the monkey.

"A cup of tea?" he asked in enraged astonishment. "You're right – I don't have time, I need to find Lu Ten –" another sob – "and then I'll take him home, and –" Iroh shook his head, closing his eyes. "I hate…" he said, but he wasn't sure what he hated.

The monkey? War? Grief? Death itself? It didn't much matter what he hated. The only thing – the only thing – that mattered was his son. He needed Lu Ten.

"No, no, I insist," the monkey said pointedly, and gave Iroh a cup of steaming tea that seemed to come out of nowhere.

"I don't want tea! I want my son!"

"Drink," was all the monkey would say. So Iroh, a look of unimaginable hatred, grief and frustration twisting his features, slowly brought the cup to his lips and drank. He didn't have any choice.

The strong, sweet tea was warm in his mouth. Iroh closed his eyes. When he swallowed, he felt as though it was coursing hotly through every vein, as comforting as a mother's touch or the smell of a childhood memory. It seemed to mix with his frustration and anger, and evaporate it, so all that was left was a middle-aged man, heartbroken, grieving for his son.

"Jasmine," he murmured in an infinitely vulnerable tone. Then he lowered the cup, looked at the monkey, and continued in a stronger voice. "How did you -?"

"It's one of your favourites, I know," smiled the monkey. "Now. Do you feel better?"

"Yes." The urgency that possessed Iroh a moment ago had gone, replaced by a calm sort of purpose. The grief was still there – it ravaged his insides, horrible though now containable – but there was no longer any frustration inside of him. He felt… refreshed, though somehow weaker than he had a minute before. "Yes, I do." He took another sip of the tea, reveling in the way it made him feel.

The monkey glanced down at Iroh's hands, which had unclenched in his lap. "Good," he said. "Do you think you are ready to continue with your journey?"

Iroh thought about it for a moment. "No," he said truthfully. "I need to sit for a bit, and think."

"Even better," the monkey said thoughtfully. "Have some more tea. While you're sitting there, I'm going to go back to meditation, and I'd take it as a kindness if you did not disturb me." He closed his eyes and began to hum tonelessly, but then he stopped again, seeming to remember something else he'd meant to say. "And remember – patience is the key. It might not make you any happier, but it makes things easier. Ohm…"

Iroh realised that whatever had been forcing him to sit down had released its grip on him. He crossed his legs, and drank some more tea, and thought about his son – where he'd look next, what he would say to Lu Ten when he finally found him. He could already see that joyful reunion.

After half an hour, he was ready to go on. Not wanting to disturb the monkey, who was meditating and paying no attention to the mortal he had helped, Iroh said his thanks silently, in his head, before moving on.

A/N: What did you think? Was it a bit too soppy – I sorta think that myself, actually, specially the "Yes. Yes, I do" bit which is really overused – or was it good? Have to say, I sorta like the writing in this, even though what's actually happening ain't my favourite thing.

Oh, and yeah, has anyone found any good Iroh fics to read? I've been looking… but a story about Iroh which is NOT focusing on Zuko is pretty flippin' hard to find. So, yeah, that's something good you can do :D If you want to earn your brownie point.

As always, constructive crit is the MOST welcome, tho compliments make me glow inside and flames make my eyes burn. Heh.

Bye. Oh, yeah, and thanks for reading…