A/N: Sorry for the delay on this one, I ended up changing my mind about the order of events and basically rewriting it. Also, I cannot do combat scenes so I have no idea why I decided to open the chapter with one. Creative challenge, maybe? Mild warning for the combat and descriptions of death in this chapter, just in case.

Disclaimer: don't own it!

This was bad.

Really, really bad.

The landslide that had scattered Iroh's squad would have been trouble enough by itself, but then earthbenders had crawled out of the hills, and it had become evident that the landslide was a manmade attack. So, he'd done the only thing he could think of: he'd leapt up onto a small pile of rocks, firebent at as many Earth soldiers as possible, and run off into the woods to lure them away from his squad.

Of course, Iroh didn't know these woods all that well, and he'd ended up spectacularly trapping himself on a cliff overlooking a sheer drop. Blast. With his jet propulsion technique, he could probably manage the fall, but he didn't know if he'd be able to rendezvous with his squad again if he put that much distance between them. His chances didn't look good in the thick forest below.

This was really, really bad.

"Gotcha now, ash-hole." The earthbender captain smirked, signaling his soldiers to spread out and further push Iroh towards the drop. "Last I checked, grunt firebenders can't fly, especially with the sun going down."

Grunt firebenders. These men had no idea who he was, so he had that small advantage of being underestimated. Unfortunately, that was countered by the sun sinking towards the horizon, taking his power with it: he could feel the waning warmth on the back of his neck, the dim orange light casting foreboding shadows ahead of him. Soon, even that would be gone.

"Surrender and give us information," the captain barked, "or fall to your death."

Iroh ground his teeth. He needed to do something. Hopefully, his squad had at least escaped, if they hadn't been crushed in the landslide…

"Your choice, then." As one, the earthbenders created a wall of earth that began pushing towards Iroh. The din of it was so deafening, he almost didn't hear the birdsong echoing through the woods.

Almost.

But hear it he did, and it was a familiar song. Iroh just barely managed to contain a smirk when the earthbenders "pushed" him off the cliff.

Breathe, Chief Sunook's voice reminded him. From the tip of your nose to the very bottom of your diaphragm, and push it out.

His fire jets launched him back up the cliff before he could fall too far. As he soared over the shocked earthbenders' heads, he opened his mouth and spewed fire. On cue, his squad came blazing out of the woods, piling on Iroh's attack with their own fiery blasts.

"Retreat!" The captain called, finally realizing they were outmatched. He earthbent himself down the cliff, the rest of his men quickly following.

"Leave them," Captain Nobu commanded. "The sun's going down, and they're small fry anyway. Private Iroh, are you alright?"

"Fine, sir. Just out of breath."

"That was some firebending!" Kusa, the youngest soldier in the squad, looked a bit scraped up from the landslide but was still as excitable as ever. "You really are a dragon!"

"It was quick thinking, leading them away so we could regroup," Nobu complimented Iroh. "Maybe don't back yourself in a corner if it happens again. We barely tracked you down in time."

"I'll try, sir," Iroh smiled wanly. Nobu was a good captain: he treated Iroh the same as all his other soldiers, prince or not. It was strangely freeing. "I don't know what I would've done if I hadn't heard Kusa's bird call before I went over the cliff."

"That was me calling the others," Kusa said, looking embarrassed. "But you barely even needed us! You could've had them on the run by yourself."

"Sure, Kusa," Iroh laughed.

"I'm serious," the younger boy insisted, gold eyes shining and freckled round cheeks flushed as he whirled to talk to the rest of the squad. "You guys saw him, right?"

"Oh, it was so cool-"

"He looked like he flew right out of the sun-"
"Like a proper dragon-"

Iroh rolled his eyes as the men chattered about his feats, the praise starting to take a somewhat exaggerated tone when they saw how uncomfortable it made him. Yes, he was more a capable firebender than them - thanks to a lifetime of royal training along with meeting the dragons and the Sun Warriors - but all this fuss over a minor battle seemed excessive. They hadn't even captured their enemies, for crying out loud, although by some miracle everyone had made it out of the landslide okay. At least that was something to celebrate.

"The Dragon of the West!" Kusa burst out. "That flies out of the setting sun and roars fire at his enemies. That's you!"

"It's definitely not."

"Three cheers for The Dragon of the West!"

"Embrace it, Private," Nobu advised quietly as the men launched into their three cheers. "Great leaders can't pick and choose where their battle titles come from. This isn't a terrible one."

The Dragon of the West…it sounded rather half-baked and corny in how obvious it was. But the captain was right. There were worse titles.

'The Dragon of the West' was what Iroh's fellow soldiers were calling him now. The name had made its way into the war room through field reports on the crown prince's performance, and it trickled out into the palace from there. The Dragon of the West, Ozai rolled his eyes. The Dragon of the West, Azulon nodded approvingly. The Dragon of the West, the servants murmured with awe. It suits him well, everyone agreed in their own way.

For her part, Ursa did like the nickname. It was simple yet dramatic, a quality she could appreciate as an actress. On nights when she missed Iroh (which was pretty much every night, honestly), she would curl up in his bed and dream up a play about the mythical Dragon of the West, featuring him in the titular role. But she could never picture the end. She knew how it was supposed to go: Iroh would raze the walls of Ba Sing Se and melt the ones of the water tribes, then rule over a unified world as Fire Lord with Fire Lady Ursa at his side. Yet when creating the scene in the middle of the night, it didn't quite come together. Maybe it was because she couldn't imagine their hypothetical children who'd be there with them at the war's end; whenever she tried, she ended up thinking of airbender children instead. Boys with shaved heads romping in orange and yellow jumpsuits, brown-haired gray-eyed girls soaring around on gliders…she could see them too clearly, considering they had all burned away seventy years ago. Why did she keep seeing them? Why did she feel this heaviness for people who had passed long before her birth, who would have arguably looked down upon her for being a Fire National?

That was what she hoped the White Lotus would help her understand tonight, as she made her way through Harbor City towards her second meeting with the group. They'd picked a different location that had been delivered via a less cryptic note. One good thing about Iroh being gone was that it was easier for her to slip out of the palace, although her stomach still clenched at the thought of someone coming to her room and noticing she'd snuck away. Without Iroh to give her the benefit of the doubt, how would Azulon view her actions?

Stop thinking about that, she scolded herself. Bad thoughts only feed themselves, her mother always said. Besides, the inn for tonight's meeting was right up ahead. As instructed, she slipped inside, told the front desk host she was here to see 'Lu Satoru,' and was promptly directed to room 29. The very back corner of the second floor, perfect for secret society meetings.

But when she got upstairs, there was someone waiting down the hall she hadn't been expecting at all. Immediately, she turned away, but the way Jeong Jeong stiffened in that split-second told her she'd been recognized. Why oh why did this keep happening to her?

"Wait, wait," he called softly, "um…I see you favor the white lotus flower. Not many still respect the purity of flora."
That was new. She peered back at Jeong Jeong, noting that he seemed just as nervous about this encounter as she, with how his hands fisted at his sides. Of course he was nervous. If she ran back to the palace and told the Fire Lord his captain of the guard was affiliated with some undercover group, Jeong Jeong's very life would be forfeit.

"Those who do can find the delicious buried roots," she answered, approaching him with caution.

He bobbed his head in an awkward imitation of a bow. "Yes."

"Are you who I'm meeting tonight?"

"No. I was told not to knock until you'd arrived as well."

"Is it you who's been delivering their messages to me, then?"

He blinked, looking taken aback. The scar on his right eye made him look more nervous somehow. "No, not at all."

So there was someone in the palace besides him. Another revelation occurred to her as he scratched his ear and his shaggy black hair fell just so. "But it was you who followed me in the city on New Year's Eve, wasn't it?"

"Ah- yes, that much is true. I was told to escort you to the Half Shell Inn without being seen. In case you decided not to join afterwards."

"Well, you cut it quite close by beating up that pervert who assaulted me. I might've recognized you if it hadn't been so loud."

"It was a risk," he admitted with a half-smile. "My stealth needs some work."

"Is that why you helped me with Tiron as well? Because of the White Lotus?"

"No, no. They didn't recruit me until after I'd become captain. New Year's Eve was my first assignment."

Maybe the White Lotus had seen something in Jeong Jeong after he'd taken up the leadership of the royal guard. Ursa certainly felt better knowing that his standing up to Tiron had been a genuine act of integrity. "So you're just as much of an initiate as me."

"Yes. I don't even know anyone else in the group besides you. It's all been coded messages for me."

"That makes us like partners," Ursa said brightly. "It's good to have a partner when doing something new, right? Maybe that's why they called us here together."

"Maybe." Jeong Jeong didn't seem convinced as he glanced at the door. Why would he be? She was still a royal, even if it was by marriage. "Shall we knock?"
"Sure. You do the honors."

He inhaled and rapped three times, short and sharp. It opened at once.

"Finally," a deep voice rumbled. "Come on in, you two."

Jeong Jeong recognized the speaker. "Captain Jinpa," he gasped, barely shutting the door behind them before dropping into a bow.

"Well, I'm certainly not a captain anymore, boy," Jinpa chuckled. The man was burly, built thickly of scarred muscle that peeked out of his tunic sleeves and reminded her of the older Iroh from her visions. His intimidating bushy gray eyebrows and deep set dark eyes were undercut by the pleasant grin on his grizzled face. "Princess Ursa," he greeted her, "I use your title once because we've never met, but otherwise we are meant to shed our outside labels when we step into the lotus's embrace."

"It's a pleasure to meet you then, Jinpa. You were the captain before Zhou, weren't you? Iroh and Piandao speak very highly of you."

"Remember my tutelage, do they?" he chuckled. "And what of the younger prince?"

"Ozai speaks of you…about as well as he speaks of anyone."

Jinpa laughed at that, turning and stoking the fireplace. "Yes, that sounds like him. Come on, have a seat, both of you. Ursa, do you share your husband's affinity for tea? I have his favorite jasmine here, for old time's sake."

"He's definitely made me fonder of tea," Ursa replied as she and Jeong Jeong sat at the dining table before the fire. Jinpa nodded and set the kettle on.

"Captain- Jinpa, I mean-" Jeong Jeong corrected himself when Jinpa shot him a look, "how is that you're here? I thought you left the capital to be with your grandchildren when you retired."

"My grandchildren don't live all that far away. Besides, I wanted to see what became of my last recruit." He winked at Jeong Jeong as he began brewing the tea. "I knew you had better stuff in you than scraping a living as a street performer, and I was right."

Jeong Jeong beamed at his old captain's praise. "Thank you. I just wish I'd accepted your assessment of me sooner. I might've been able to stop some of Zhou and Tiron's wrongdoings if I'd stepped up as your successor like you asked."

"You'll have many more regrets by the time your life is done. Try not to dwell on them."

Jeong Jeong nodded, jaw clenching slightly with the motion.

"So," Jinpa set cups of tea down for the three of them. "I'm sure you both have a lot of questions. You wouldn't be here if you weren't the curious types, after all."

"Yes," Ursa agreed softly, glancing at Jeong Jeong out of the corner of her eye.
"You two are in a unique situation. Normally, when someone is initiated, their initiator is their main point of contact with the society as they progress through the early stages of membership. Ursa's initiator, however," his lip curled, "is…unable to oversee her early membership as usual. Given those circumstances, and Ursa's unique position as a royal member joining the society, you two will undergo a sort of simultaneous training with me as your initiator. Parts of the training will happen with both of you, parts will occur individually. But you'll almost always travel to these in-person meetings on the same days, for Ursa's security, and you'll have each other to rely on in the palace. It's tricky for us to get messages to Ursa, after all, but it's easier with Jeong Jeong, and easier for him to talk to her in turn."

"But there's someone else in the palace, isn't there?" Ursa asked quickly. "Besides the two of us?"

"Of course there is, and you'll know who in time. As you put your roots down, you'll see just how many of us bloom," Jinpa smiled secretively. Between his sternly calm manner and his excellent jasmine tea, it wasn't hard to see why Iroh admired this old captain.

"So, here is my question for the two of you. Why are you here? I'll have an individual chat with each of you about your answers, but I'd like you to share with each other first. It's good to have an idea of each other's motives."

Ursa had already been asked this, and her answer hadn't changed much. "Well…I'm here for my family. Not the royal one," she clarified for Jeong Jeong. "My own family. I want to learn more about history - their history - and, um, the airbenders as well, the truth around them."

"The airbenders?" Jinpa's eyebrows raised. "Really?"
"...yes?"

"Don't hesitate, Ursa. It's a good answer. What about you, boy?"

"Uh," Jeong Jeong's hands clenched around his still-full cup of tea, "I s'pose I'm here for my family too, kind of. I want to make them proud. I want to learn how to do that."

There was a backstory there, but Jeong Jeong didn't seem willing to elaborate. Jinpa must have known it, though, since he simply nodded and patted Jeong Jeong's hand.

"Do me a favor, young captain. I'll chat with Ursa first. Go in the back room and gather yourself for our conversation after. You know enough to keep your ears closed for this part, don't you?"

"'Course." Jeong Jeong stood and took his cup with him, leaving Ursa alone with Jinpa and another knot of pity within her chest she didn't know how to carry. Jinpa tilted his head and fixed Ursa with a look that was strikingly familiar; so that was where Iroh had picked up that particular mannerism.

"You're a very interesting princess."

"Thank you?"

"It's a compliment, don't worry." He leaned forward. "I remember your mother, you know."

"Really?"
"Not much of her, though, and I highly doubt she remembers me. I wasn't high up enough to be a Lotus of any note when she quit. Her departure really confused us with how sudden it was. Based on the timing of it - almost twenty years ago - I suspect the reason she left is sitting in front of me now."

Ursa nodded. "Yes, I think you're right. She raised me away from all this. She didn't want me to be part of it."

"Until the royal family tracked you down and didn't give you a choice." Jinpa grunted. "Your mother was a shrewd woman, to have successfully hidden for as long as she did. Shrewd enough to be a Grand Lotus. Are you that shrewd?"

Grand Lotus seemed to be an important position. It was hard to imagine her mother running some secret society like that; she'd always just been her mother. "I don't know."

"So maybe you are." Jinpa paused to refill her teacup; she'd been sipping frequently, the scent of jasmine reminding her of Iroh in a way that contradictingly soothed and worsened her nerves. "Tell me, why is it you want to know about the airbenders?"

"I've been studying their writings on chi for some time," Ursa said carefully, not wanting to tell the captain about the adventure with the Sun Warriors. "Trying to adequately develop my knowledge of it so I can progress to learning chi-blocking someday, as it's taught in the royal academies. I ended up becoming curious about their culture, reading so many Air Nomad documents, and then when Bumi was here on New Year's, he said something interesting…he said the royal family had lied to the people about why the Air Nomads had to die."

Gravely, Jinpa nodded. "A great lie, yes. So that's the truth you want to know?"

"Kind of. I asked Master Qin in the library, and he told me the gist of it: that there was never a secret Air Nation army, and Fire Lord Sozin wiped them out because of the dangerous potential of airbenders rather than what they'd actually done."

"That's right. Qin is unparalleled in his knowledge of history."

"But what I want to know is…" Ursa faltered, thinking of the airbender children again "was this why my grandfather betrayed the Fire Nation? Because of this plan to destroy the airbenders for such little cause? I know he was a traitor, but if this was why…did he really deserve to be disgraced along with his entire family for it?"

A handkerchief was placed in front of her, and Ursa realized she'd been staring at her tea and crying. She took it with a whispered 'thanks' and dabbed at her eyes.

"You feel for the Air Nomads," Jinpa noted after a moment. "From just their writings, even though they're long gone."

"I…I keep thinking about their children," she admitted. "Bumi mentioned that the children died in the attacks too, and now I can't get that out of my head. Did children deserve to die?"

"Bumi remembers when Air Nomads still roamed the world. I'm certain he had friends who were among those children." He pursed his lips. "Does a child ever deserve to die? It's a question we grapple with in war. No matter how honorably we fight, there will be dishonorable soldiers in the ranks, and accidents happen. Feeling for each of those deaths would end several generals' careers before they even started, yet what does it do to our souls to suppress those feelings?"

Jinpa sounded as if he were talking to himself more than her. Ursa shrugged.

"Your grief for the Air Nomads is natural, Ursa. As for your grandfather, it is my understanding that he opposed the war in all its forms. The Avatar's duty was to maintain balance, between the four nations, and between the humans and spirits. Nothing upsets balance like war. I don't know if he knew of the plan to attack the Air Nation since that transpired well after his death, but I imagine he would have opposed it too."

"So plans for war were what drove a wedge between him and Fire Lord Sozin?"

"Fire Lord Sozin?"

"They were friends once, weren't they?"

"Friends?" Jinpa stroked his chin. "I did not know that. Is this family history?"

"Yes, um, my mother said they'd been best friends, before Roku left to train as the Avatar."

"But she didn't say what spoiled the friendship?"

"No, she didn't talk about it much."

"Very interesting. Sozin and Roku were once best friends, and now their grandchildren are wed according to the prophecy of flame. What an interesting game Azulon plays," he chuckled. "Your mother likely knows more than me about that friendship, but I wouldn't be surprised if it was the war that ended it."

"I can't exactly speak to her about that freely."

"No, I imagine not. But if you could gain access to the Dragonbone Catacombs, Sozin's personal recollections could shed light on his view of the friendship. I'm sure they hold plenty of truth that would be intriguing to budding lotuses like yourself."

"I see." Iroh occasionally snuck scrolls out of the Dragonbone Catacombs. If she put her mind to it, she could ask him to do the same for her, or maybe even do it herself.

"And you should definitely continue your studies of the Air Nomads and their spiritual writings," Jinpa continued. "You're doing very well, having already opened two of your chakras."

"What?"

"Your chakras. You've been opening them, haven't you?"

"No?" Ursa knew what the chakras were - the seven pools of chi in the body, from the top of the head to the tip of the spine - but she was barely capable of sensing her own chakras, let alone opening them.

"You mean to tell me you've opened your first two chakras accidentally? Do you even feel them?"

"Um…" The first two chakras were earth at the base of the spine and water in the sacrum. Ursa closed her eyes and concentrated on them specifically. Her chakras always felt borderline intangible, like trying to grasp water in her palms before it simply trickled away. But now that Jinpa had drawn her attention to them, her earth and water chakras did seem…different. The water still trickled away, yet she had the indescribable sensation that there was more. "I kind of feel something?"

"I've never heard of a novice opening their chakras unintentionally. Have you had any strange symptoms lately? Illnesses with no cause, dreams that felt too real?"

"Yes!" The last few months had been nothing but strange dreams. "Those were related to my chakras?"

"It's likely. But you must be careful now. You must try to intentionally open the rest of your chakras as written in the texts, or the imbalance within you will turn destabilizing in times of stress. It's best to have all chakras open, and if that is not possible, none at all."

Jinpa's face had turned unmistakably grave. Ursa swallowed and nodded. "Do you have any advice for how I should?"

"It will require meditation. Not in the sense of simply sitting still for periods of time, but more that you need to know yourself and your weaknesses in order to accept them and clear them out of each chakra. Given you are still new to spiritual training, it will likely take a few attempts. That's why I'm shocked you were able to open earth and water unintentionally. I'd love to know your theories about how that happened."

"I'd love to have some," Ursa said wryly. "I didn't know you could see chakras. I thought you were just a military man."

"Who do you think helped Iroh figure out he had a knack for energy reading? Of course, he never studied it as much as he should have, or he might have noticed your chakras opening." Jinpa sighed. "When that prince finally understands that there is more to firebending than combat skills, I can rest easy knowing he absorbed all I tried to teach."

"I think he's starting to," Ursa offered, recalling their time with the Sun Warriors, and how Iroh had come away from it saying he wanted to fuel his fire with something besides rage. "He's not a teenager anymore."

"No, he's not," he agreed. "Now, we can chat all night, but Jeong Jeong needs some guidance as well. The next time I see you, probably some months from now, I'd like to hear how you're doing with these two tasks: the chakras and the catacombs."

And if she couldn't accomplish either of those tasks? "Of course. Thank you."

It had happened too fast, something Iroh hated admitting. Laoshan's treacherous terrain lent itself too easily to earthbenders' hands, which was probably why they'd set up such a critical mining settlement here. But the Fire Nation needed it to establish a greater presence in the region, so Iroh's squad had come to take it from the Earth Kingdom, and it had all been going fine until the shrapnel attacks.

It had happened too fast. Shrapnel attacks were earthbenders' most difficult and dangerous tactic: spikes of earth so small and fast they could slice open opponents' flesh and even leather armor in the blink of an eye. Iroh's reflexes were quick enough; he dove behind a tank for cover. His fellow soldiers weren't as lucky, just barely managing to shield their vulnerable points as the shrapnel threatened to shred any exposed skin.

Kusa was the least lucky. He collapsed on the battlefield, and the strategic thing to do would have been leave him, but he was the youngest of the squad and so vulnerable out there that Iroh just couldn't do the strategic thing right now, so he abandoned his safe cover, threw up a fire shield for cover, and carried Kusa off the field.

The front of Kusa's leather armor, beneath his breastplate, had turned ominously dark. Iroh's hands came away from it wet.

It had happened too fast.

"Help me," Kusa whimpered, chest rising and falling too fast yet not expanding all the way (punctured lung, Iroh's brain whispered), "Iroh…Iroh, help."

"I've got you, Kus," Iroh murmured, wincing as he accidentally set the younger boy down too roughly on the floor of the medical tent.

"Hurts…"

"I know, I know, but it's just for now. Pailin's got you, she'll make you better.."

Kusa still clung to Iroh's hand, eyes squeezed shut and gasping for air. Once the physician Pailin pulled his helmet off - exposing his round, freckled cheeks - he looked very, very young. Like a boy having a nightmare, except for the blood still seeping into his clothes. The thing for Iroh to do now was let Pailin do what she did best. She would tend to Kusa while Iroh returned to the battlefield and helped turn the tide to win Laoshan.

But he couldn't pull his hand away. So he stayed and tried to console Kusa. As Pailin cut Kusa's clothes open, Iroh told a funny story about how one of their fellow soldiers had almost blown himself up the previous day. As Pailin tried to stem the bleeding, Iroh recounted every tea joke he knew. As Pailin's efforts began to fail, so did Iroh's waning hope.

"Scared, Iroh…" Kusa whimpered, "...can't…can't breathe…help me…"

"Try to think of something else," Iroh encouraged. "If you keep thinking of your breathing, it'll get worse."

"I…I…" It was getting harder for him to speak. His lips were turning blue. "Miss…Mama…"

"Your mom? I thought you said you had a big fight with her and joined the army to get away," Iroh pointed out, smiling to comfort his friend even though his out-of-focus gold eyes likely couldn't see it.

"I just…didn't wanna farm," Kusa moaned, clearly troubled by the memory. "I…I never said bye…left a note…shouldn't have done that...Mama…"

"It's alright, Kusa. You can apologize to her when you go home. I'm sure she'll understand."

"Don't wanna…fight anymore…Mama…scared…"

"You won't have to," Iroh reassured. "I'll get you out, okay? You'll get an honorable discharge, and you'll go home to your mom and make up."

"Really?"

"Yes, yes. Really."

Kusa's lips twitched in half a smile, before he grimaced again. Pailin's eyes found Iroh, her mouth tightening ominously. In a proper capital hospital, Kusa might have stood a chance, but in this field tent, internal injuries were fatal. Iroh just didn't have it in him to speak it into existence.

"Wanna…home," Kusa rasped. "Mama…" The death rattle.

"I know," Iroh fought to keep the lump out of his throat, watching tears fill the boy's unseeing eyes and trickle down towards his blue lips. "Just…rest for now, okay? Go to sleep. You'll be better when you wake up. I'll stay right here." He squeezed the limp, cold hand, pushing some last vestiges of warmth back into it.

"Uh…" Kusa closed his eyes one last time and finally relaxed. His labored whispers for his mother ceased. He didn't move again.

Pailin respectfully placed a blanket over his (freckled, pale, young) face, then bowed her head and recited a short prayer for a soldier fallen in battle. Iroh listened, not letting go of Kusa's hand just yet. He was - he'd been - only sixteen. That didn't seem like enough years for a life to be over.

"You did a good thing, Prince Iroh," Pailin whispered at some point. "I'll leave you alone for a moment."

The battle was still raging, wasn't it? Iroh could rejoin it since Kusa had no need for his comfort anymore. He would go now. Now. After a few minutes. Now. After a few minutes.

"Private Iroh."

Captain Nobu's voice. Iroh glanced up and found him standing with his arms folded. There were a few other soldiers being treated as well. Iroh hadn't noticed them entering.

"Captain," Iroh reluctantly released Kusa's hand to stand and salute, more out of muscle memory than anything else.

"Private, where have you been? The battle's over."

"Oh." It had been more than a few minutes, then. "Did we lose?"

"No, fortunately. Your little trick with the fire shield gave our archers enough time to pin down their shrapnel benders, and we advanced after that. But we might've done so with fewer casualties if you'd stayed on the battlefield."

More people had died. Because of him. "Sorry, sir. I'll do better next time."

"I know you will. Now, who were you staying here for?" Nobu asked more gently.

Kusa's wide smile floated in his mind's eye. "Kusa, sir."

"Ah," he sighed, "that's a tough loss. He was very young." He brushed past Iroh to kneel by the fallen soldier, bowing his head and muttering the same prayer Pailin had. "Do you think you brought him some comfort?"

"I hope so." Iroh's eyes burned. "He kept crying for his mom."

"I imagine I will do the same, if I'm ever struck down in battle. Most soldiers do." Nobu stood back up and touched Iroh's shoulder. "Heed my advice, future Fire Lord. Compassion is all well and good in that peaceful palace, but it is a luxury you cannot afford out here. If your heart bleeds for every soldier that falls in this war, it will soon bleed you to death."

"I understand, sir. I should've returned to the battlefield and fought after making sure Kusa had a physician to tend him."

"Yes. I won't fault you for doing otherwise in your first true battle, but now you know for the future. When you have your first command, be good to your men, and carry their lives responsibly, yet don't carry them too closely to your heart."

"That sounds hard," Iroh said, too raw to mince his words.

"Indeed it is. Many otherwise brilliant soldiers have stalled in their careers due to their inability to strike that balance. That can't happen to you, Prince Iroh."

"It won't happen to me." Iroh glanced back at Kusa's prone corpse. "Like you said, I'm The Dragon of the West."

Iroh, cont.

Despite the fact that I'd taken several lives by this point, Kusa's death was the first I'd ever really watched. The warmth leaving him. The struggle to breathe. The light of his spirit flickering away. Afterwards, when I tried to find his mother and give her some honor or compensation for her son's death, I learned that she'd passed away not long after Kusa had joined the army. Heartbreak, the people in her village said, from losing her only child to the war after her husband had already died in it fifteen years prior. A family destroyed, for some mines in Laoshan. The only bright spot was that Kusa passed not knowing just how deeply his actions had wounded his mother. I hope he really did feel like he was just falling asleep.

Even today, when I close my eyes, I still sometimes see Kusa in the haze of faces I've lost: that eager boy who first dubbed me The Dragon of the West. It's the deaths I saw early on that I remember most vividly. Given enough time, continuous deaths simply blur together. It's not natural for the human soul to experience such bloodshed, but in decades of war, humans had forgotten that. The advice I received from my superiors like Nobu during my military career was always the same: don't mourn their deaths too deeply, or you'll never stop mourning. Somehow, it took me far too long to question why we'd conditioned ourselves away from the natural response of mourning…too long, until I lost my most precious soldier.

Back then, part of why I accepted Kusa's nickname for me was because I wanted to honor him in the one way I could. I never imagined just how much I would come to resent the Dragon of the West.

Breakfast was a very individual affair in the palace. Azulon preferred a light porridge or soup in his bedroom. Iroh (when he was home and not risking his life in the Earth Kingdom) took a protein-heavy meal in the courtyard after his morning training. Ozai oscillated between eating a single apple and inhaling half the kitchen's food stores, depending on his mood and his growth spurts. Given the vastly different preferences the kitchen staff were already juggling each morning, Ursa liked to make her own breakfast rather than create more work for them. It felt paradoxical that she'd had to practically order them to let her cook for herself, but after a few weeks, they seemed to have accepted her donning an apron and joining them in the kitchen everyday.

Today's breakfast, though, wasn't going as well as she wanted. "Hn!" A little disappointed sound escaped her as her salapao bun fell apart for the tenth time. How was this so hard? Just wrap the meat filling in the dough and twist the top- blast! She'd twisted too hard again.

"May I, Princess?" The meat chef Hajime offered tentatively, having watched her struggle for a few minutes.

Perhaps she did need help. Her mother had always made this seem deceptively easy, on the few occasions she'd made salapao at home, but this was Ursa's first time making them all by herself. "Just show me one," she warned Hajime. The stout, middle-aged man had a tendency to be overly helpful to Ursa, like many of the palace servants.

"Of course." Hajime folded a bun slowly for her benefit - "it's more of a pinch at the top than a full twist," he explained - and set it down carefully on the bed. "You also want each of your buns to have a slightly thicker center when you roll them out, or they might not hold while steaming."

"Ah…" Ursa hadn't thought of that before rolling out all her bun circles. "I see."

"Are you sure you don't want further assistance, Princess?" His salt-and-pepper eyebrows arched playfully. "Your breakfast may turn into a brunch at this rate."

"Oh, alright. But just this once. I might be in over my head today."

"I did notice you'd chosen an abnormally challenging breakfast this morning. And you came in awfully early as well. Is something bothering you?"

Salapao were the Fire Nation's version of Earth Kingdom baozi buns, requiring a fluffy dough and trademark spicy filling made from scratch. Ursa had already been in the kitchen for nearly three hours trying to get it right. I needed something to take my mind off the fact that Iroh might be captured, or wounded, or- "Just trouble sleeping," she said lightly. "A touch of nostalgia, too, since I loved salapao on the rare mornings my mother made them. Of course, now I understand why those mornings were so rare."

Hajime nodded in understanding, his experienced hands rolling and wrapping each bun like it was muscle memory. It probably was, considering he'd been at the palace nearly as long as Aisha's fifteen years.

"My mother made gado-gado," he said suddenly. "That was my favorite."

He'd given her some gado-gado last week, an eastern island breakfast consisting of shredded vegetables and boiled eggs tossed with peanut sauce. It was usually for the servants to eat since it was too "common" for the royals, but Ursa had liked it.

"I had a lot of satay when I was in the east for the Autumn Festival," Ursa replied. "They make it differently out there, don't they?"
"Ah, yes. The eastern islands had a lot of cultural exchange with the Earth Kingdom even before the war, which has made our food sort of a fusion…"

Hajime chatted happily about the cuisine of the eastern Fire Nation as Ursa steamed her salapao. This was another reason she enjoyed being in the kitchen in the mornings: she'd learned more about food in the Fire Nation and regional cuisines here than in her month of traveling. After all, the chefs were the people who knew about "common" dishes in addition to more prestigious fare.

Her buns were still a little lopsided compared to Hajime's, and a few of the ones she'd rolled split apart in the steaming process, but everything would taste good once it was in her belly. "Take a few," she tried to tell Hajime, but he all but plugged his fingers in his ears and ran away from her. Honestly, she had to do something nice for that man one of these days.

"Tea, Princess?" Aisha offered as Ursa arranged her breakfast plate.

"Just water, please."

She liked to eat in the courtyard outside the kitchen, usually making herself scarce so she could listen to any conversation happening among the servants who passed through for their own morning meals. Not because she was trying to pry, but because it was a good way to hear about any problems in the palace that they didn't bring to her directly. This was how she'd learned that the women's bathhouse was too small, and that the head house-maid had been skimming portions of her underlings' pay. That woman had been shocked when Yuna had investigated and fired her on Ursa's orders…honestly, how long had she thought she could get away with scamming teenagers?

Xiliu streaked across the courtyard, a blur of blue-gray fur with a freshly-caught mouse. "Wow, thanks," Ursa wrinkled her nose when he dropped it at her feet. "How about we each just enjoy our own breakfasts?"

His nose twitched at the scent of her food, and he meowed persistently until Ursa tossed a bun down to him, at which point he abandoned his rodent prize and ran off with his newfound treasure. Cats. All the same, weird dream powers or not.

"Princess Ursa?"

Someone had spotted her. "Selina," she smiled up at the girl. "How are you? Have you eaten yet?"

"No, I was just on my way. Um…" she shifted on her feet nervously, "I wanted to say thank you for the new rooms, Princess."

After the incident on New Year's Eve, when Ursa had discovered Selina and her siblings lived in Harbor City instead of the palace with the other servants, she'd set about making sure anyone who served the royals could have palace quarters regardless of their number of dependents. Selina had arguably benefitted the most from the change. "It's no trouble, Selina. I hope your siblings are getting to school okay?"

"Yes, thank you. The carriages you arranged have been very helpful."

Since the only schools in Hari Bulkan were the two prestigious royal academies, the servants' children usually had to trek to the Harbor City schools each morning. Ursa had arranged for royal carriages to take them to and from the city everyday to make it easier. "I'm glad to hear it."

"You didn't have to do all this," Selina said suddenly. "I…I wasn't going to tell anyone…"

That she'd seen Ursa in Harbor City? "I know you wouldn't have. I just thought it was unfair that some servants couldn't use the palace quarters, you among them."

"Oh, well, I still won't. I'm sure you had your reasons." She smiled tentatively. "And I'd hate to inconvenience you. Things have been so much better since you came here."

"Really?"

"Yes, yes. Captain Jeong Jeong's guards are very dutiful, and Madam Yuna isn't so stressed anymore…even Prince Ozai has been nicer to his servants, they say."

Did Silena think that was all because of Ursa? "That pleases me to hear. Now, go have your breakfast."

It was much to consider, the changes that Silena attributed to her. She turned them over in her mind as she ate her spicy buns. Sure, Jeong Jeong's promotion to captain was indirectly related to her clash with Tiron, and Yuna did have less work on her plate now that Ursa was overseeing more of the palace's domestic tasks, but Ozai being nicer? He just must have been growing up, that was all.

"Princess!" Mika called, waving at her from the kitchen entrance. "Princess, the Fire Lord is summoning you."

Oh, no. Did he suddenly have a problem with the changes she'd made? Swallowing the last of her breakfast, she hurried inside, quickly rinsing out her mouth and popping in a mint leaf. She was wearing her rather plain working tunic and leggings, but Mika was acting as if this was an urgent call, so she simply smoothed down her hair and hoped Azulon wasn't in the mood to scrutinize her morning appearance.

"Where is he, Mika? The throne room?"
"The garden, Princess."

What if he had a problem with her flowers? She all but ran to the garden, crossing over to the turtleduck pond more out of habit than anything. They quacked happily when they saw her, no doubt expecting their morning treats.

"Good morning, cuties. Sorry I'm late." She reached into her pocket and absentmindedly scattered a handful of peas across the pond, eyes darting around the garden for the Fire Lord.

"Now, what's a beauty like you up to on this fine morning?"

Startled, she whipped around. "Iroh?"

Chuckling, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. "In the flesh, darling."

"What- you're back?"

"Mm-hmm."

"And you're okay!"

"Mostly."

"Mostly?" she demanded, immediately looking him over for injuries. He laughed.

"I'm fine, darling. Just a few bruises and sore muscles. The worst part was how much I missed you."

"You're just saying that," she rolled her eyes, kissing him again. He gripped her chin and dipped his tongue into her mouth, making her shiver.

"I'm not," he said afterwards. "Every night, I just…I would lie in my sleeping bag and dream of you. Your eyes, your laugh, your touch…" He leaned into her hand on his cheek with a sigh. "Sometimes, that was all that made me feel better."

His eyes looked a bit far away as he spoke. "Iroh, did something happen while you were gone?"

"We lost a few soldiers," he said shortly. "A natural part of war. I'd rather not talk about it."

"Okay." Ursa wouldn't know what to say if he wanted to talk about it anyway. "Well…I'm glad you're home."

"Me too." Iroh leaned his forehead against hers. "I, uh, I was thinking a lot while I was away about how to make it up to you for being gone so much, and I realized…we never had a honeymoon."

"We didn't, that's true." Ursa had been too sick after the wedding, and they hadn't liked each other nearly enough for honeymoon-type activities back then anyway.

"I figured…maybe we should?"

She blushed. "What do you have in mind?"

"First, I want to take you to Hira'a for your birthday," he said at once, "and after that, I thought we could go back to Ember Island and stay there until our anniversary."

"But that's like five weeks, and we'd miss the summer solstice celebration in the capital."

"Yeah."

"Will your father be fine- oh, your father!" Ursa had forgotten the reason she was in the garden in the first place. "I was supposed to meet him-"

"Darling, that was me. I wanted to surprise you." He chuckled at her panic, kissing her nose. "And yes, he's rather begrudgingly fine with it…so long as I leave again for the Earth Kingdom right after our anniversary."

"I see." Ursa had known she would likely have to spend the summer without Iroh, since his military career was budding and summer was the Fire Nation's prime time for attacks, but it was still unpleasant to hear.

"So, what do you think?" he asked, a bit nervous, and it occurred to her he must have spent a lot of time worrying over whether she would like his idea.

"Oh, I love it, Iroh. I think you're right: we should have a proper honeymoon." She embraced him. "I'm a little scared about my parents seeing my scar, but…I've been avoiding it long enough."

Iroh hummed, finding her right wrist and wrapping his hand around the burnt-pink scar just underneath. She knew he still blamed himself for it. In an attempt to distract him, she bumped her nose against his and asked, "What's Ember Island like this time of year?"
"Crowded. But we have our own beach house and our own beach," he grinned. "The hills by our house keep it from getting too hot or loud."

"What about the Ember Island Players?" she asked, growing excited as she remembered their last visit.

"They put on a new show every week since they have so many crowds to entertain. We'll see all of them."

"And the ice cream?"

"That's the best part. There's ice cream carts of all flavors all over the island."

Ursa squeaked with delight - she loved ice cream - making Iroh laugh and pick her up to spin her around.

"It'll be wonderful," Iroh promised as he set her on her feet again. "The very best of Ember Island. You deserve it, dearest."

"I'd be happy to honeymoon anywhere with you," she replied. Five weeks together, away from the palace, to see her family and then just bask in the honeymoon phase of their marriage. It didn't matter where: it would be perfect regardless.

A/N: Announcement for the readership! I'm shifting to updating this fic twice a month to accommodate for the fact that I'm starting law school this month and won't have as much free time for fic writing. Wish me luck!

Also, is anyone watching the Olympics? Because watching the gymnastics finals makes me think that Ty Lee would have so much fun. If someone wants to write a modern gymnastics AU with Ty Lee, I'd love to read it - can't write it myself since I'm working on this one and modern AUs aren't really my thing.

Thanks for reading!

~Bobbi