A/N: In one episode, Zuko decided to run a barricade, sneak into the Fire Nation, and capture the Avatar behind enemy lines. Iroh clearly was not happy about this, but allowed Zuko to make his own mistakes. Zuko left Iroh behind on the main boat and went off on his own once he was past the barricade. He was nearly caught by Zhao. There is also the chapter of this story ("In Which Zuko Tries For Peace") where he sneaks up to Zhao's boat.
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In the middle of the night, Zuko began to choke. He tried to inhale and gagged. His arms flew out, grasping for anything they could reach, anything solid, anything. He latched onto his blankets with a death grip and pulled them closer, scratching at them like they were the last bits of solid land he could reach. But the blankets moved closer to him; they weren't solid at all. He cried out in terror and spun himself out of bed onto the ground. With his fingernails digging into the solid earth, he gasped for air. The choking subsided until he made himself dizzy with hyperventilation. His arms collapsed. He lay on the ground, sweaty and shaking and breathing too hard.
Of course, all of this woke Iroh from a deep slumber straight into full alertness. He lay still and listened. When Zuko's breathing was nearly back to normal, he asked, "A nightmare?"
Zuko swallowed and squeezed his eyes shut, tried to get ahold of himself. "Yeah."
"It sounds like a bad one. Do you want to talk about it?"
"No." Zuko sat up. "I'll go for a walk."
The fresh air, cold and breezy in the darkness, refreshed him and made him fully awake. Any other dream would have faded to insignificance after the first breeze. Zuko sighed, shook his head, and walked into the forest. The trees here were further along in the process of shedding their leaves, producing a soft and pleasant crackle as he walked. There had been rain recently; he could smell wet leaves and moist earth. Taking a walk was a wonderful idea. By the time he reached a small river, he was perfectly relaxed. He washed his face, took a drink from it, and sat on a log. His heart pounded before he even finished sitting.
Why am I having that dream again? It's been ages. I thought it had finally gone. He had really, really hoped it was gone. After several months of undisturbed nights - the last one had been before the Avatar appeared - he'd finally dared to hope. Just like everything else I hope for, it doesn't work. Ugh.
The frustrated tone he insisted on thinking in was a cover. His heart pounded. He gulped down air, and his face and chest were flushed with heat. Stupid nightmare! He tried not to remember it.
But he couldn't help remembering it. Unlike other dreams, The Nightmare didn't fade. The slightest thought of it sent shivers up his back. Suddenly, sitting by the river didn't seem like such a good idea, even though the water was moving. It flowed smoothly enough to remind him of -
Cool, clear water, undisturbed by the slightest ripple. No insects buzzed in or on it. Colors shone vibrantly through it. Zuko watched them with a small smile on his face, staring through the water…up at the sky. The water was so gentle, so soothing, like a giant blanket. It muffled sounds and made him feel weightless. Finally Zuko was at peace. He didn't care that his breath was running out.
His chest spasmed. The sensation was far away, meaningless. It didn't hurt. He lay there peacefully, even as his chest cramped, even as his vision dimmed, even as his mouth opened and he couldn't help but inhale-
Zuko gagged and began to choke. He tried to breathe, but the air didn't feel like air. He was compelled to spit it out. I can't breathe! He shook all over and fell forward onto the ground. The shock of hitting the ground reminded him that he was on land. His throat loosened and allowed him to breathe again.
He picked himself off the ground and walked back through the forest. The leaves relaxed him, as before, though they couldn't get his heartbeat back to normal this time. He shivered at the sight of the tent. Will I have The Nightmare again?
He restrained his breath so as not to worry Uncle, and crawled back into the tent. He pulled his blankets over himself as if nothing was wrong. The Nightmare was horrible. It was the worst thing he knew, worse even than reliving the Agni Kai that had led to his banishment, which he also did. He couldn't stand to think of it. Zuko closed his eyes and thought of the Agni Kai, of crying and moaning and trying desperately not to fall apart while the room emptied, so many important people draining out of it like his humiliation was boring. It was a wonderful distraction. Better to remember pain than to remember that awful, awful peace.
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Aang dreamed of taking Katara to meet his family. "Katara, this is where Monk Gyatso and I - Katara?" She had disappeared. He had to show her how he practiced airbending by throwing fruit pies! If they were going to defeat the Fire Nation, she had to master this crucial skill!
Aang raced through his home, the Southern Air Temple, which had sprouted hallways and corridors he couldn't make sense of. He thought he was running along the hall that led to his room, but it opened on the room where the Avatar statues were kept instead. All of the statues had glowing red eyes. Aang took a step back. His past lives were angry with him. At any moment, the statues would turn and look at him accusingly before stepping off their pedestals. He edged toward the door, but before he could get there -
He wasn't alone. Something else crept among the statues with him.
They were outside. The statues filled one of the swamp clearings. It was useless to edge toward the path, because only the people who lived in the swamp town knew the paths well enough to navigate. Aang would just end up back in the clearing. He was trapped. It would have been bad enough to be trapped with his own angry former selves, but he knew instinctively that the thing creeping among them was a greater threat.
He could not see it clearly. It was small, only the size of a cat, and it was made of shadows. It merged with every patch of darkness it happened to cross through, never showing its true shape, if it had one. Aang ceased to notice if the statues had glowing eyes or not. He ceased to think about the path. All that mattered was staying far away from the shadowy beast. The only reason he was still alive was that it appeared to be confused. The shadowy thing swayed from side to side, as if it were shaking its head. It fought to step out of some invisible constraint that slowed its steps. It hadn't noticed Aang at all.
A firefly appeared. Its flashing broke Aang's paralysis. He turned to run, regardless of whether he could escape or not. There was a brilliant and blinding flash behind him. He imagined the light to be air and spread his glider, letting it carry him away from that place and into another.
He traveled through that other place, did things. It was made of either ice or clouds; he couldn't remember which. As Aang blinked his eyes open, the only things he clearly remembered were the terror of being pursued by some shadowy beast, and the even greater terror of recognizing that dream. It was familiar. He couldn't remember any other dream about shadowy beasts, but he was sure he had dreamed something like it before. He also knew with dream-given certainty that the shadowy monster had not been as large before.
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Neither of them mentioned their dreams in the morning. The sheer ordinary-ness of packing up camp made talk of dreams seem silly. Besides, they weren't important. They were only dreams, and dreams could not have real significance.
"I. Am. Starving," Sokka moaned. "If we don't get there soon, my stomach is going to eat the rest of me. It'll start with my arms. I have delicious arms." He stared at his arms as if seriously contemplating roasting them over a fire.
"Aang, make sure Sokka doesn't eat his arms," Katara ordered. "Or Momo." The lemur flattened his ears along his back and hid behind one of Appa's horns.
Aang's stomach growled. "How far -"
"Just an hour or two. I already checked." Katara hopped up to the reins. "Come on, Appa. Yip yip."
Her stomach quietly registered its own complaint. Katara reminded it sternly that it had endured far worse in the past. When the warriors of the Southern Water Tribe left, they took most of the tribe's fishing and hunting talent with them. Of course they had trained the women to take over as best they could, but they hadn't had long to train and the women of the tribe had lifetimes of specializing in other, softer skills. The first winter had been brutal. Katara's stomach continued to quietly complain despite this reminder. Traveling with the Avatar had spoiled her in certain ways. Before leaving the Southern Water Tribe, she hadn't even known what papaya was.
"This reminds me of when Dad left," Sokka moaned. "Katara, do you remember that?"
"Yes. I had to stop you from taking a canoe out into open water looking for a whale."
"It was terrible when Dad left. I was so hungry!"
"Sokka, stop thinking about it. You'll drive yourself crazy. Try to remember the other reasons it was terrible when Dad left. You missed him, remember? You were disappointed that you couldn't go with the warriors and prove your skill."
"Yeah, that was bad too." Sokka ceased to complain about his hunger. Katara took that as a sign that her recommended distraction had worked.
For her own distraction, she ran and reran the route she had seen on the map in her mind. They were flying over high hills now. The hills would descend into a broad, cold valley. Gentler forested hills would be on the other side of the valley, and somewhere in them would be a basin where the town of The Rosewoods was nestled. It was a fairly large town, so it should be visible in the middle of a forest.
She sighed with relief as she spotted both the town and a bare hill just outside of it where they could land. Sokka hadn't descended into hunger-induced insanity. Nobody had gotten hangry and started a fight. That was the important part. Last night had not been what it was just so they could continue to fight now.
Katara remembered the night before as another confusing step backward. Zuko had told her to believe in herself just when she needed to hear that the most, just because he didn't want her to suffer the way he had. Perhaps he wasn't the jerk he seemed to be? But ever since, he'd thrown up new and better walls. First the cloth exercise, then ordering them to stay away. That order had caused her physical pain. She wanted so badly to find out just what he was hiding behind those walls, and it wasn't entirely because she expected to find dangers. Was she right, or wasn't she? What ought she to believe? If she could find out what he was truly made of, it would be a lot easier to trust herself.
"This is just a supply run," she reminded everyone after they landed. "Get food, get out. Maybe we can take a guided tour through the woods, if they have one. We are not going to stop and fight off an army of firebenders. We lost enough time training with Master Jeong Jeong."
"Got it!" Sokka saluted hard enough that he hit himself on the head. "Ow. No fighting, just food."
"Yeah!" Aang set off down the hill towards the town. Everyone else followed.
Just before the gates of town came into view, Zuko stopped and held out an arm to make his uncle do the same. "We're only traveling together," he reminded everyone, including himself. "There's no reason for Uncle and I to go into town with you. We'll stay here and wait for you to come back."
"But I would like to see the roses," Iroh protested.
"You can go without me then. There is no reason why I should join a guided tour with the Avatar."
Aang's shoulders slumped. Katara put a reassuring hand on them. "Sure," she said in a very pleasant and friendly way. "Look after Momo. He should stay away from Sokka until Sokka's been fed."
Sokka looked at the lemur and started to drool. Momo screeched and leaped off Aang's shoulder, flying onto Zuko's. Zuko scratched him behind one ear and nodded.
It seemed so simple. Respect his limitations, give him a task to do that would be genuinely helpful and within his abilities, and there you go. Peace. Katara wondered why it had always seemed out of reach before. She tried to imagine how she would have reacted to his declaration before. Before last night, she would have taken it as another instance of him acting like an arrogant jerk, wanting to sit around and wait for them to do all the work of providing food. She would have tried to get him to loosen up, or if that wasn't possible, left him behind with nothing to do as punishment for being an arrogant jerk. If he hadn't said so the night before, it never would have occurred to her that his refusal to join in their daily activities was an attempt at self-preservation. She didn't see any danger in shopping. That was because she saw from her own point of view and not his. But it was so easy to see from his viewpoint now! Of course socializing with them would seem like proving Zhao right! Katara couldn't understand how that had never occurred to her before. If it was this easy to understand what another person thought, why hadn't she done it before?
That was a question to tuck away in the back of her mind and save for another time.
Aang stopped and looked around. "Are you guys seeing what I'm seeing?"
"I really hope not," Sokka replied.
The street was deserted. For a tourist town, that was a bad sign. "Oh no," Katara whispered. And not only was the street deserted, but there was also hidden activity in some of the houses nearby. People peeking out of shutters, that sort of thing. It was as if the townspeople were scared of something, or someone.
As soon as they stopped, a woman came out of her house and started sweeping her porch. "Hello!" she called, waving with great cheerfulness. "Welcome to the Rosewoods!" If they hadn't already been on the lookout for warning signs, Aang and co. never would have noticed the gauntness of her cheeks and the thinness of her arms, the desperate and ineffective way she pushed the broom around. It was a show. Something was wrong.
Sokka sighed. "You can stop sweeping," he told the woman. "We've been to enough towns in need of rescue to know what we're looking at. This is because of the Fire Nation, isn't it?"
The woman stopped sweeping and looked around. Was she afraid her neighbors would see her dropping the act and judge her for it? Or was someone a lot more dangerous than her neighbors nearby? Katara put a hand on her water pouch and did her own looking around. No firebenders would get the drop on them here.
"No," the woman said. "The Fire Nation doesn't come here."
Then why was she afraid? Why was the town suffering? But the woman seemed to be telling the truth. Katara doubted she had the strength to lie, even if she had had a reason to. "Then what's going on?"
"The Fire Nation doesn't come here," the woman repeated. "That's not always a good thing." She went back inside, her whole body stooped and visibly devoid of hope.
"...What, she wishes the Fire Nation would come here?" Sokka asked. "How could she possibly want that? I think the hunger's getting to her."
"She was so thin," Katara pointed out. "There can't be much food here. But we have to find something, or we won't be able to figure out what's wrong."
"I thought this was a quick in and out," Aang reminded her.
Katara opened her mouth to reply, but couldn't find anything to say. Sometimes reason had to give way to humanity.
"I get it," Aang said, chuckling. "I'm not leaving, either. I can't ignore scared people."
"Another exciting adventure," Sokka muttered. He shrugged. "It's been a while since I got to knock heads around. Let's go."
They went to the center of town. No guidance was required; the crash of a blacksmith's hammer was enough. The center of town was a broad square. Two corners were occupied by buildings promising entertainment and lodging. One corner was the blacksmith's shop. The remaining corner was devoted to a market. People walked freely here, streaming from the market to the blacksmith and vice versa, down side streets to their homes, chatted with each other. It was a much better pantomime than the show the woman had tried to put on. If they hadn't already met her, Aang and co. never would have noticed how quiet the chatter was, how quickly people walked from one place to another, how few people there really were.
"Jackpot!" Aang said. "Where there's a blacksmith, there are farms that need tools. Where there are farms, there's hay for Appa!" Appa snorted. He had fared the best of them all, since he was capable of simply ripping up forest plants and eating them whole. But he was grumpy at the lack of proper food and understandably looking forward to having some. Appa walked up the blacksmith's shop, where the man was still hard at work hammering away, and roared.
The blacksmith lowered his hammer and looked up, very much not impressed. "I only make farm tools," he drawled. Then he resumed hammering.
"Exactly!" Aang said. "If there are farms around, there must be hay for Appa. Do you know where we can find some?"
"Ask at the market," the man said between hammer blows. "I don't do deliveries. I just make the tools."
They checked the market. One whole butchered goose was available, which made Sokka drool, so they bought it. The merchant snapped up their money with a grin. "Thank you very much! Pleasure doing business with ya!"
"Do you know where the farms are?" Aang asked. "My bison here needs hay."
The merchant's smile flickered. "We don't do hay farms around here. Sorry, kid."
"What? You have to have feed on hand for animals."
The merchant chuckled. Was that a tinge of nervousness in his laugh? "We don't do the kinds of animals that take feed. Just birds."
"They are in the middle of a forest," Sokka said. "A forest filled with delicious, fatty, roasted bird breasts…"
"Do you know where we can find an inn with a kitchen?" Katara asked.
They checked into an inn with a good kitchen, had the bird cooked, and ate lunch in their room. Appa rested in the inn's stables. The stables didn't have enough hay for his needs, but they had some, and that was a lot better than nothing. Meanwhile, Sokka sighed and patted his belly. "My belly's full! Now I can use my deductive prowess to figure out what's going on."
"What does your deductive prowess say?" Katara asked in a most gracious manner.
"It says…" Sokka put one hand on his chin and traced lines through the air for dramatic effect. "They've got a bandit infestation."
"What? No, of course not! Our lovely little town has never had problems with bandits!" said the merchant back at the market. "Your possessions are completely safe! Would you like to acquire some more?"
"Nope," said the blacksmith. "No bandits 'ere."
"Where did you hear such vile rumors?" asked the innkeeper in a harsh whisper. She looked ready to smack the perpetrators upside the head for their crime.
"We didn't hear anything," Aang said. "Sokka figured it out from the way everyone looks scared and there's little to eat. Listen, I'm the Avatar. I can hel- "
The innkeeper glared ferociously at Sokka. "Lies! We've never had problems with banditry!"
"It was just an idea," Katara said in a hurry. "Glad to hear it. We won't mention it to anyone." She dragged both boys out of the inn. "We really shouldn't anger the person whose inn we're staying at. What were you thinking?"
"I can help," Aang said. "But nobody will tell me what they need help with!"
Back to the blacksmith they went. Katara suspected that he was their most reliable source of information. He didn't seem scared the way others were. If they could convince him they were genuinely here to help, Katara was sure he would open up. "Hello. It's us again," she greeted. "Look. We know something's wrong here. There's no point in hiding it. Aang is the Avatar. We can help you, if only you'd let us."
"Avatar Schmavatar," the blacksmith grumbled. He had quenched his piece of metal and laid new metal on the fire to heat. While waiting for it to reach the right temperature, he swept up his shop. "I see a baby."
"He's an airbending master," Katara said. "We can, and will, help."
"Babies, the lot a' you," he grumbled again. "Don't know nothin'."
Katara was incensed. How dare this man refuse their help just because they were young? How arrogant and condescending! It reminded her of Zuko. Katara stopped before she could let off angry words, and started to think. What did their offer look like from his point of view?
There must be a reason why nobody wanted word to spread of bandits. This was a tourist town. Rumors like that would cripple them. From his perspective, they were strangers who ran around asking the first question that came to their minds. How could he trust them with such a dangerous secret?
Katara closed her mouth. "We know enough," she said quietly. "You don't want rumors to spread, or else visitors will stop coming. We understand. We'll do whatever we can to help in secret. We won't talk about this to anyone."
The blacksmith switched the broom to his other hand. "That so?"
"Yes."
He swept multiple times at a particularly bothersome corner. "I just make farm tools."
They sighed.
"But some of the farm kids might wanna talk to ya."
They smiled and barely managed to avoid cheering. Katara cheered internally. Wow! Taking his viewpoint had done wonders. If she hadn't done that, another door would have closed in their faces. Since she had, the way forward was clear. And it was all because of Zuko.
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Meanwhile…
Zuko scratched Momo behind one ear again. Momo made a sound very much like purring. Then he leaped off and crept along the forest floor, stalking a bug.
Momo wasn't trying to escape and was more than capable of entertaining himself, so Zuko and Iroh really had nothing to do. They sat and waited. And waited. And waited.
I am not about to let Uncle suggest that we would have been better off going shopping with the Avatar. This was a good decision. I don't regret it, and I am not bored. "Another guessing game?" Zuko suggested. "Like you did with the cloud."
Iroh smiled. "I thought you'd never ask! I've been thinking about this tree in front of us. It has a good character. I see many good things in it. What do you see?"
Zuko looked up. The tree directly in front of them was a tall tree with smooth, softly-lined gray bark. Its leaves were yellow-orange and still attached to it. Its branches hung silently in the still air. "It's a nice sunshade. Not good for climbing, but great for perching in. It looks like it's on fire."
"What else is it?"
Zuko tried to think of what other adjectives he could use to describe it. Plain grey bark beneath, fire above. Smooth bark, unwrinkled. If it was a kind of tree that grew wider, it wouldn't seem very tall. It had scars on its barely-climbable trunk where past branches had been. Scars?
Zuko sat up and took a closer look. Now that he thought of it… "It looks a little like me," he said slowly.
Iroh took a second look at the tree. "Why do you say that?"
It's alone. It's surrounded by trees that are different species. They're all taller than it. They're towering over it, shading it. Zuko refrained from giving those reasons. It would be humiliating. "Something about the way its branches hang."
Iroh studied the tree's branches. They spread out horizontally, dipping down at their ends. With the leaves still attached, it was like the tree was covering itself up. It struck Iroh as both modest and sad, neither of which were adjectives he would ever use to describe his nephew. "Interesting observation."
"What did you think of it?"
"I think this tree is very harmonious," Iroh said. "Its leaves are bold, but it holds them modestly. It's scarred, but the scars have healed well. It does not push at the others around it. It lives in harmony with itself and others."
"Like a White Lotus."
Iroh blinked. "What?"
"When I bought that replacement tile, the old man I bought it from was surprised. He said I didn't look like a White Lotus type of person," Zuko recalled. "The White Lotus is best at forming harmonies with other tiles. He must have meant people like you, because you get along with everyone."
Iroh blinked some more. "Um, yes, of course. I'm sure that's what he meant."
"Maybe I should use the Red Lotus more," Zuko murmured. If I'm not a White Lotus, maybe I'm a Red Lotus? It moves around the board fast, paralyzing pieces, but it can't hurt them without making itself vulnerable. I'm not like that at all. Never mind.
He idly wondered about Pai Sho tiles and trees and himself while staring up at the young flame-covered tree. Its bark was very good to look at. Tracing the lines in it with his eyes was like a silent meditation.
Eventually, a gust of wind blew. It was strong and bent the taller trees to one side, but did not touch the younger one. The flame-covered tree remained unmoved, just as modest and sad as before. The distinction was enough to break Zuko out of his meditation. He looked around, and froze. When the wind ceased, it was all too obvious what he wasn't hearing. He heard no animal sounds at all. Not even a bird.
"Uncle?"
"Yes?"
"What are the odds those three really managed to stay out of trouble?"
"Not good." They both stood up. Momo raised his head from the patch of sunlight he had found to lie in. He called, as if yelling for them to wait up, and leaped onto Zuko's shoulder.
Iroh looked at the tree one last time as they left. He really did like it. He liked how it got along so well with trees of different species. They stood close around it, protecting it from the wind. He didn't understand why Zuko said the tree resembled him. Iroh thought it actually resembled himself.
.
They entered the little town and found it starkly empty. It was obvious at a glance that something was wrong. It was so obvious that neither of them bothered to stop. They walked on as if they had seen nothing. "It looks like the people here are afraid of intruders," Zuko said. "The Fire Nation might be here. If I see Zhao…"
"No, I don't think this was caused by the Fire Nation," Iroh said. "The Fire Nation would be much more obvious. Someone else is seizing their chance to prey on this defenseless little tourist town." He walked with greater purpose. What manner of villain would attack a small little place filled with roses? Monsters! He didn't know this place, but he knew anyone who would attack roses was not someone he liked.
Zuko made them halt in the middle of the street. He looked around slowly, listing off observations as he made them. "People peeking through their curtains. Backyard gardens with geese and food plants. Nobody else in the road. It looks like someone's been invading regularly and taking food from them."
Iroh picked up the line of reasoning. "Who would take food, of all things, from a town? Why not extort gold?"
"Oh, they're definitely taking gold too," Zuko said. "But why would they take food at all?"
"Unless they have none of their own," Iroh finished. "Impoverished bandits?"
"Hello," said a woman from the house they were standing in front of. "Welcome to the Rosewoods!"
Zuko looked her up and down. "They're definitely taking food."
The woman smiled nervously. "Wh - who?"
"The impoverished bandits that have been invading this town recently," Iroh said.
The woman looked around nervously. "Come in," she said. They followed her into her house. It was sparsely furnished, with bare brown mats on the floor to sit on and a small wooden table and a very basic kitchen. A small bunch of roses lay on her table; they were the only sign of color and life in the place. The woman beckoned for them to sit. "I'm afraid I don't have much by way of refreshments…"
Momo's ears drooped. Zuko picked him up and held him in his lap. "That's fine. We are not going to take things from hungry people." Momo screeched. "No, you aren't just as hungry as she is. You can eat bugs."
Iroh let his nephew care for the lemur. He bowed respectfully to their host. "Many thanks for taking us in so graciously."
The woman bowed back. She kept her hands folded in her lap. She was very thin, and her brown hair hung limply in its braids. If her skin hadn't been so pale, she would have been quite pretty. "My thanks to you," she said. "I know we aren't supposed to disclose this to travelers, but…" She hesitated. "Please, promise not to tell. We can't afford to lose traffic. Not now."
"You have our word," Iroh promised. "We are more than just tourists. We might be able to help. What's wrong?"
She took a deep breath. "I should start from the beginning. Several months ago, most of a year I think - time blurs when it's a nightmare - a group of Earth Kingdom soldiers came here. We were honored to have them at first, and worried. Was the Fire Nation coming?" She shook her head. "No. Perhaps it would have been better if they had. The Fire Nation doesn't stay, and they don't bother to take food."
Iroh sucked in a breath. "Deserters?"
The woman nodded. "I think so. Why else would they be so far from the front lines? They made it to the center of town, where most of our tourist business is. And they went into buildings, our shops and town hall, and said that unless we gave them supplies nobody would ever come to visit our pretty little town again. We've been giving them what they want so that they stay hidden. We can't afford to lose traffic, as I've said."
"But now you can't afford to give any more?" Zuko asked.
Her hands tightened, squeezing the life out of each other. "But now, I might lose something more precious to me than any amount of food." Tears glimmered in her eyes. "My son has joined an underground resistance movement. They're getting weapons and training in secret, getting ready to fight off the soldiers. But, soldiers! Several dozen children can't fight off soldiers! My baby!"
Zuko and Iroh looked at each other. "The Avatar," Zuko said. "With his help, they think they're ready."
"But they probably aren't, if this resistance army is as poorly equipped as it sounds," Iroh continued.
"If they launch an attack now, people are going to die. Children. But without the Avatar, they don't have a chance. This is the only time they can possibly fight back."
"Please," the woman pleaded. "Can you convince them not to? Nothing is worth that! I would rather give up everything than lose my boy."
Zuko shook his head. "Nobody could convince them not to attack. This is their only chance." She despaired.
Iroh's wartime instincts activated. He started to think like a general again. A force of armed young people, with the Avatar out in front. Earth Kingdom soldiers unwilling to face firebenders. Himself and Zuko. A plan snapped into place.
But Zuko was going to be Firelord someday. He would need to know how to do this, how to get the right people in the right positions and use them effectively. This was a great teaching moment. "What do you think we should do, Nephew?" Iroh asked.
"We're more than just tourists," Zuko told the woman. "Your son can't get soldiers to stand down, but maybe we can. We'll save your son."
"You're just two people," the woman said. "How?"
"My uncle is a skilled entertainer," Zuko said. "He can distract any travelers that are staying with you already. And I'm good at sneaking behind enemy lines. These so-called soldiers are cowards. They'll stand down if I strike them in the right place."
That wasn't the plan Iroh had in mind. He had intended for the two of them to join the resistance fighters, sneak off to the side as the Avatar distracted the soldiers, and demonstrate their firebending power. It would either scare the soldiers into giving up or make for a great distraction. But he and Zuko should go together. Zuko against a whole great group of soldiers? He couldn't fight off that many! And he didn't have the firebending power needed to accomplish this alone.
"We'll need to know where the travelers are staying, where I can get some swords, and who's leading the soldiers," Zuko continued.
"There is an inn in the center of town. Follow the sound of the blacksmith's hammer; that'll take you right to the main square. The blacksmith is rumored to be with the fighters, making weapons for them. The soldiers are lead by Jin the Vicious. He's clever. He made up the plan to extort us; the soldiers are muscle." She bit her lip. "Can you really do it?"
"Definitely. A bunch of cowards led by a single guy who does all the thinking? This'll be easy." Zuko let Momo go and smirked.
The woman showed them to the back door of her house and shooed her geese out of the way. They crept through her garden and out onto a different street. "Zuko," Iroh whispered. "What are you thinking? You can't take on a whole group of soldiers on your own!"
"Yes I can. I just need swords."
"This is too dangerous, Zuko! Be reasonable! We should face them together."
Zuko stopped and gave him a hard look. "If I have to look after you, I won't be able to do it. I have to go alone."
"Nephew."
"Uncle." Zuko's eyes searched his. "I can sneak into their camp, capture Jin, and make them stand down. I know I can. Trust me."
Iroh had no reason to do that. As far as he knew, Zuko had never faced groups of soldiers on his own. He wasn't that skilled at either firebending or broadswords. He'd never snuck behind enemy lines, except for that time with Zhao, and that other time with Zhao. This mission was completely unlike anything Iroh knew him to have done before.
But none of that was important. The only thing that was important was that Zuko had asked Iroh to trust him. If Iroh couldn't trust his beloved nephew, who could he trust? But in this case, trusting him meant abandoning him. Iroh would be far away, completely unable to help.
This was not the first time Iroh had been asked to make such a decision. He sighed. "I trust you, Nephew."
Zuko smiled. He turned and led them along the road, where they came to a decorative garden. It was likely a tourist attraction. Flowers grew all over the garden, artfully arranged to show off wild roses that were probably transplanted from the forest. Two trees stood in the garden. They had smooth gray bark and flaming red foliage. Unlike the one outside the gates, these two were tall and ruled all they surveyed. Their branches angled upwards and did not droop at all. Their trunks were not visibly scarred. These trees were kings, and knew it. They had never known the shade of taller trees. They were not modest. They were not sad. They were not good as a sunshade, nor for perching in. Zuko said, "I liked the smaller one better."