The Highest Bidder

Chapter Eight: General Iroh's Appeals

When I speak of Iroh in my recollection of the tales that he and I participate in as a unity, I word my sentences in a purposeful meaning; I did admire Zuko's uncle for his wonderful personality; and if you asked the other Fire Nation soldiers, Waterbenders, Earthbenders, and those who served with him even after he retired from the Fire Nation military, almost everyone would say that he was a kind, old man with wisdom beyond anyone's years. After his failure in the capture of Ba Sing Se during the 600-day siege, he was still a respected general, despite the dishonor that fell over him. I had heard of this tale from many of the soldiers who actually were serving Zuko on the same ship that I resided for the six months; they still held General Iroh in highest regards. I referred to him as such, despite his former resignation, because I believed that he deserved such a title. Of all the soldiers that I had ever met, General Iroh was by far the best one.

He was not entirely ruthless like Captain Zhao, a highly unpleasant Captain—or so he was the last I saw him. If I recall correctly, Zhao was probably the last person I saw when I left the Fire Nation. He was a Navy Captain for the Fire Nation; Zhao hadn't been put on any assignment until I became a fugitive. I assumed that Fire Lord Ozai had put the man in charge of my capture; and I assumed, now, that Zhao had either long ago forsaken my fate to death; or he simply lost the will to care about a missing 12-year-old girl of an imprisoned nobleman.

General Iroh didn't much care for Zhao either, as the older man—whether highly-ranked or not—had a vile temper, worse than Zuko's. Any man who couldn't control his Firebending was neither a man to be trifled with or to befriend.

And Prince Zuko couldn't stand Zhao. I didn't have to ask to know it, but that, my jury and peers will come later.

General Iroh knew how his nephew treated the crew; and he eased their so-called suffering with regaling of his adventures in the war (the more pleasantries of the event), wise tales that were passed down from a generation to the next, and he sang songs of the cultures that took place in each nation.

My favorite had become Four Seasons, which I joined in every now and again with him.

General Iroh served tea during these little sessions. They took place about twice a week, and it was a break from the work that Zuko had put on the men. I enjoyed them as much as any other man. Sometimes, General Iroh would ask the soldiers if they had stories to tell; if so, we would listen to them with drawn attention. Afterward, Iroh would ask me to sing a song for the crew. Though I doubted it, General Iroh made it a specific point that I had a talented knack for singing unaccompanied by music, which he complimented in front of the men. His flattering made me blush occasionally.

So when the soldiers asked me to entertain them with a stirring love song, I humored them with one of the Fire Nation's favorites. Afterward, they would applaud, and I would continue to listen to Iroh about how he was given his name "Dragon of the West".

Zuko came into the room with a knock on the door.

I turned. At first, I thought he was going to join the rest of us for tea. However, he beckoned for me to follow him; and he led me out onto the stern of the ship.

"It's a bit cold out, Zuko," I suggested gently. "Perhaps it'd be better for the both of us if we went back inside?"

"You'll have to get used to the cold," said Zuko. "We're heading into icy waters. You need to learn how to stay warm if you want to continue to travel with us. You're not a Firebender, which makes it easier for you to catch a cold."

"So I'm standing outside in the middle of the night because…?"

"I need you to train yourself so that you won't freeze to death."

"That's caring," I said, slightly disapproving, "but I'll be fine. I've lasted winters before, remember?"

He ignored that. Prince Zuko approached me.

"You're not like the others," he said.

"Well, that should be clear enough," I said playfully, nudging him in the ribs.

He reacted curiously.

"I'm serious, Mura."

"Look," I said, ignoring his dutiful manner, "I only reacted so violently the other day because it's my natural defenses in my mind. It's no different than the fight or flight response. I obviously don't carry the gene that requires me to run from danger."

"You were lucky that you didn't endanger the crew," said Zuko seriously.

"Well, the crew wasn't putting my life in danger," I said coolly. "Prince Zuko, I admire your urgency to train me to calm my nerves, but you can't plan on how to manage a state of panic. If you or I could do that, it wouldn't be called panic."

"What would you have done if Uncle Iroh and I hadn't cornered you on the beach, Captain?" he demanded. "What would you have done?"

"You caught me off guard, it's that simple."

"Surprise attacks are not simple," said Zuko bitingly. "You have to be more prepared; you have to be vigilant."

"I'm as vigilant as they come, Zuko," I replied gently. "Remember? I have a sixth sense."

"That didn't help you when we could have permanently burned you," he said sardonically.

I frowned at him.

He sighed.

"I'm all for your weird magic tricks, Mura," he said, gesturing wildly with his arms, "but you're absolutely useless against hand-to-hand combat."

"Useless?" I said incredulously. I stormed toward him and jutted my finger into his chest, "Let me tell you something, Prince Zuko; I know a thing or two about hand-to-hand combat, and if you weren't my superior or cute, I would throw you overboard!"

He stared at me, obviously stunned; then his face contorted into a challenging smirk.

"Well," he said, pushing my hand away, "if you're so grown up, why don't you?"

"What?"

"Throw me overboard."

It was my turn to stare at him. I thought I misheard him, but the smirk on his face told me that I actually heard him right.

He readied himself for my pre-armed strike. However, I did what I did best.

Before he knew what was happening, he was lifted off his feet into the air as if a hand had grabbed him from the nape of his cloth underneath his armor. He yelped, startled, as he was brought over the edge of the ship.

"Hey!" he said angrily, flames shooting out of his hands. "I said for you to throw me overboard, physically!"

"You didn't specify, Sir," I said calmly.

I hovered him over the edge. He was floating beside the ship, fighting against the telekinetic pull.

"I'll put you down if you make a deal with me, Prince Zuko."

"Get. Me. Down." Zuko ordered furiously through gritted teeth.

"Fine," I sighed.

The invisible hand lowered him gently back onto the dock. He breathed steam from his ears and nose.

"That was a cheap trick," he growled, annoyed.

"Teach me."

He opened his mouth for rebuttal; however he blinked, taken aback.

"What?"

"Teach me," I said with a chuckle. "Teach me hand-to-hand combat." I shrugged. "It was a dirty trick, but I couldn't resist. You've been such a grumpy goose all night. You need to lighten up."

Freeze frame. All right, so here's the situation. I was attracted to Prince Zuko, but since this is a long letter to the jury, peers, and it's going before the entire Republic including Fire Lord Zuko and his relatives, Team Avatar, and pretty much everyone that was involved in the 100-year war, I will only breeze through these municipal moments where it's obvious that I'm attracted someone. I freely admit that when I was aboard Zuko's ship, I was immensely attracted to him. For some reason, and I can't truthfully answer this, I'm not sure why I found his temper to be quite amusing, or even why I tolerated it at all. Fire Lord Zuko eventually lost his temper when he joined Avatar Aang in his quest to stop Fire Lord Ozai, and I suppose when he became a reasonably justified, morally whole person was when I sort of "lost" that attraction. On the ship, Zuko's temper was unpredictable, which was all part of the fun. If I was told to return to my life of mundane prosperity, I probably would have refused. After all, would you have thought it would be better to return to the home of nothing-ness after being in a full-out fight with a group of villagers?

I thought not.

Prince Zuko did humor me with my request to learn basically all that he knew about combat. I had left the Fire Nation before I learned any true fighting moves from my father, Azula, or really anybody. What I told you about how I "threw Zuko overboard" was how I dealt with a physical fight. You know I speak the truth because I handled the situation similarly when the Fire Nation soldiers attacked me at the shore: all mind power.

At sunrise, Zuko and I started my training in hand-to-hand combat. I could trust his teachings, for I believed that he learned most of his skill from General Iroh. Zuko briefly informed his uncle about his decision to mentor me, and although General Iroh treated it like some make-shift date, I considered the concept to be intriguing.

It took me an entire day to master the basic steps. The reason being was that Zuko's patience was strained. This wasn't really his fault either. Like I mentioned before, my mind is dominated by the fight response; I was born to use to powers in place of hand-to-hand fights, to put it politely. During the walkthrough of an offensive move, I would follow through with little complication; the same with the defense. However, when Zuko and I tested what I had learned, it was automatic response from me that a table would fly in between us. If I can recall correctly, Zuko's hand might have smashed about three tables in an hour. A fourth he destroyed out of simple frustration when it flew in front of me while he was showing me how his Firebending was controlled through motivation: in this circumstance, it was coincidentally anger.

Soldiers had been watching from the helm, for it had been Zuko's orders that no matter what happened, they weren't supposed to interfere. Iroh, who had been occupied for the day in feasting and otherwise meditating, had emerged from the Captain's cabin to witness Zuko and me facing off in an accomplished battle of wits.

Zuko's impatience resulted in a skirmish between him and me. He grew angry with me; and my stress stimuli reacted upon accordance to the situation. He shot arcs of red and yellow fire in my direction; a sword flung from my belt and blocked my face from Zuko's incoming hand, which clung loudly against his scallops.

Iroh appeared between us, grabbing Zuko's wrist and my shoulder, and he pushed us apart. The sword that hovered in front of me collapsed to the deck in finality. Iroh turned to Zuko.

"So this is how you train a recruit, Prince Zuko?"

"She's absolutely frustrating!" Zuko said furiously. "It's her stupid magic that stops me from teaching her correctly!"

"That stupid magic," I said irritably, "just disarmed you five times in a row, Prince Zuko!"

Iroh clung to his nephew's shoulders as Zuko started for me with gritted teeth.

"No, Zuko!"

"Why do you take her side, Uncle?"

"Because, nephew, she mastered your arts skillfully," he said with reason. "Don't you understand? You taught her what took me weeks to teach you in 24 hours. It's nearly dusk, and she's managed to fight you and win at every turn!"

"She hasn't beaten me," said Zuko angrily.

"It's not a competition, Zuko," I said incredulously. "You did what I asked you to do. Your uncle is right."

"Is he?" said Zuko. He pushed General Iroh aside and confronted me. "If I hit you now, would you be able to counteract my attack, Mura, or would your mind fight against it so that you wouldn't have to?"

"You really don't like my gift, do you?" I said coldly, folding my arms across my chest.

"What's the point of me teaching you hand-to-hand combat and if your telekinesis interferes?" he challenged, waving his arms at me in frustration. "If somebody attacks you from every side, how will you fight that if you can't concentrate? You told me that you can't handle several things at a time—"

"Well, I certainly handled you, didn't I?" I snapped at him.

Iroh winced as we started to fight again. The soldiers at the helm murmured under their breaths in obvious disapproval and shock. Zuko apparently caught the gist of what they were saying; he pushed me aside and rounded on them,

"Hey! If any of you have something to say to me, you say it to my face! Well!"

No one answered him.

"Zuko," I called after him as he started to walk away. "Zuko, I swear—"

Iroh grabbed me from around the waist and pulled me out of the way as a giant ball of blazing flames shot in my direction. I looked up to see Zuko glare at me as he crossed the threshold of the deck. I slammed my hand through the air furiously; the door shut violently behind him.

General Iroh ordered politely for the soldiers to retire to their quarters. He helped me to my feet and scorned at the scorched, black soot on the deck of the boat with a frown on his face. He patted my back consolingly. According to Iroh, when I asked him about that day, he said that I had the most pained look on my face after Zuko and I had a fight. Iroh didn't ask me to go to Zuko's quarters and apologize. To General Iroh, he still believed that Zuko had taught me well, and that it was all in a day's work. It had been an accomplishment for the Fire Lord's son, even if Zuko disagreed.

Iroh made tea for he and myself on the deck of the Fire Nation ship. For several moments, we sat in silence. I thought it was a peaceful relationship that Iroh and I shared. We had a few things in common, despite our age difference. A common love for the simple things in life was what he shared: tea, a seat in front of a full moon, a nature's walk, music night, a good song, or the frivolity of a delightful conversation. I loved Iroh's personality. He was a comforting bed in the middle of a rocky storm.

"He likes you," said Iroh with a smile, and he sipped his tea. I almost spat mine all over the place when he said it. He laughed when he saw my reaction.

"What?" I said, delayed by a fit of coughing.

"Zuko. He likes you," Iroh repeated.

"You have got to be kidding," I said, though I had smiled at that.

"Many things aggravate my nephew, Mura," said General Iroh, "but never have I seen anything infuriate him more than you; especially at the going rate of what you've been doing."

"He tried to burn me," I said doubtfully.

"He's a boy, Captain," Iroh said, once more sipping his tea. "No man wants to be humiliated in front of his crew, especially of the one doing the humiliating is a girl who mastered the arts faster than he did."

"That doesn't put in a good light, General," I said uneasily.

"Oh," he said with stumped realization. "No, it doesn't, but you know what I mean. Mura, you are—by far—the most interesting person that I've met who has come aboard this ship. And your—uh—'stupid magic' is quite impressive as well. Prince Zuko finds it intimidating that you have such raw power…"

"Raw power. I have it under control." I argued, offended.

"Ah, Mura, you know that I didn't mean that." Iroh said knowingly. "You and Zuko are not too different, you know. You can't stand to be humiliated by the other; and, uh, you both have nasty tempers."

"I have mine under control. His is all over the place."

"Mura, you and Zuko had a verbal spat in front of ten or twenty guards; he Firebended at you. You slammed the door behind him. If I hadn't stopped it, do you think either of you would have stopped?"

I considered his argument. I consider it now too. He was right, of course; but I wanted to believe that I was the one in control. However, it was obvious that I wasn't. Through our training, every time my defenses were lowered and I tried to allow Zuko to test my ability to dodge his blows, I reacted offensively, counteracting them.

However, come to think of it, I was born into the Fire Nation; and Fire Nation members had nasty tempers, which was the source of their power. Zuko channeled his rage through his bending, to his uncle's disapproval; and my powers were connected to provocation. During training, Zuko's anger was fueled by my telekinesis, which provoked me subconsciously. Seriously, our pairing could not have been more misguided.

"How do you know that he likes me, General Iroh?" I asked the wise, old man. "He doesn't talk about me, does he?"

"Actually, he does," Iroh said.

"What does he say?" I asked curiously.

I saw the apple of his cheeks turn pink.

"Nothing that would be accepted to be heard from my mouth," Iroh returned truthfully.

"If he talks trash, General, why do you say that it's a form of flattering?"

"Mura, my dear, you have a lot to learn about boys." Iroh chuckled. "He cares for you; and you, for him. I'm right about that, aren't I?"

"Of course."

"See, am I good or what? Now, drink your tea." Iroh said. "Want to play a game of Pai Shoi?"