A/N: Doing something different structurally with this chapter too…bear with me y'all there's only so many ways to show passage of time in a fic that's going to span a good 30 years of stuff happening.

Day 6

Omashu was stunning.

The Fire Nation pride that had been bred into him rebelled against that opinion, but there was no denying it. The Kolau Mountain Range rising around the proud city as far as the eye could see, the vast expanse of blue sky…even from outside the city, Iroh couldn't help marveling at the sight.

If this was what Omashu had to offer, Ba Sing Se must have been unimaginable. Iroh could only hope that the walls of this city were easier to breach.

It was almost too obvious, the guise of a tea-selling merchant family they'd chosen for the mission. Jun was posing as his brother while a pair of seasoned spies, Aran and Ratu, were acting as their parents. Father had wanted to send even more, but too large of a party would undoubtedly have drawn attention. Iroh watched an unfortunate cabbage merchant have his wares tossed from the bridge by the earthbending guards, although the man fortunately didn't meet the same fate and was permitted to enter the city.

"Approach," a guard called out to the foursome. "State your name and your business in Omashu."

Mentally, Iroh checked that he was following all of Ursa's acting tips - relax your shoulders and back without slouching, meet their gaze but not too proudly, don't talk like a boy king - while Aran stepped forward and answered the guard's questions. The middle-aged spy was a good actor; Iroh had never considered what went into espionage, being more preoccupied with the fruits of the work, but it was clearly intricate. Would Ursa be able to do it, or would the pressure of being caught be too much for her?

Not that it mattered. She was never going to be in such a precarious position, not if he could help it. Tiron's attack and the close call with the Sun Warriors had been enough for a lifetime. It was best that she remained safe in the Fire Nation, at least until the war was won and they could travel the world together in peace…no matter how much he missed her. Though he knew it had only been a few days, it felt like a lifetime since they'd said goodbye.

"Please…," Ursa whispered, teary-eyed and half-asleep as she clung to him like it might stop him from leaving her bed. Iroh knew he would grant anything she wanted in that moment, anything at all, if only it would make her voice stop sounding as if it was about to crumble away into nothing. Just don't ask me to stay, he prayed. He would if she asked, and then Father's anger would be something to behold.

"Please what, darling?"

"Promise me you'll come back."

It was such a simple request, considering she could've asked for the sun and he would have driven himself to the ends of the earth trying to figure out how to bring it to her. "I promise you, Ursa, I will come back. I will always come back."

"Alright," the guard waved them on. It seemed thoughts of Ursa had been able to distract Iroh from overthinking his performance. Moving as a team with Jun, he coaxed the ostrich horses to pull their cart of supplies forward and through the great gates of Omashu.

"Wow," Jun whistled as they crossed into the city, and it wasn't an act. Omashu unveiled itself before their eyes, majestic stone towers and arches topped with Earth Kingdom green, the precise sculpture that only earthbending could achieve. The series of chutes above it all that Iroh had only ever read about caught his attention.

"That's the mail system," Iroh pointed out to their group. "Run by earthbending. The most efficient communications system in the world."

"It'll be a good way for us to get the word out about our little shop, then," Ratu said with a practiced maternal smile. "We don't have forever to make the most of this place, after all."

No, they only had a few weeks, if that. Inside Omashu, it would be difficult to communicate with their Fire Nation sources, meaning they would have to rely on themselves as much as possible to collect intelligence and escape notice. Aran and Ratu had a couple of tentative contacts in the city - not Fire Nationals, more just people willing to partake in low-stake sketchy activities for the right price - but aside from that, their team was starting at square one.

What could they find out about Omashu as tea merchants without blowing their cover? As Iroh's eyes tracked a package sliding down a particularly long chute, he tried to ignore how his own stomach was experiencing a similar sensation as the gates shut behind him.

Day 12

"You're not following up quickly enough," Ozai scolded. "Speed is essential in combination attacks."

"I'm aware of the importance of speed," Ursa snapped, rubbing her aching wrist. His last block had been particularly forceful.

"Well, I certainly can't tell from your attacks. Hasn't Iroh been gone long enough for you to be over missing him already? Do it again."

With a deep breath, Ursa launched into the combination once more - forward slash, backward slash, stab for the gut - but just like last time, Ozai grabbed her wrist mid-stab and shoved her back like it was nothing. Blast.

"Now, Princess," a familiar voice called, "why are you taking sword fighting lessons from a boy who wields one with all the grace of a hog monkey with a stick?"

"Piandao!" Ursa whirled to find him leaning smugly against the training room door. "That's not very nice."

"But it is the truth. Prince Ozai has no respect for weapon wielders because in his eyes, we're merely compensating for our lack of bending." Piandao drew near, glancing at Ozai with a challenge in his gray eyes even as his demeanor remained casual. "You're struggling because you're not breathing right, not that he would notice it."

"I've already corrected her breathing, Puvi," Ozai replied coolly, and there was a whip-like crack in the way Piandao's birth name left his lips. "She kept holding it, and now she isn't."

"She's not holding her breath, but that doesn't mean she's breathing right. Ursa, may I?" He held his hand out for her sword.

"Um…sure." There was a tension in the air that even her wooden sword could easily slice. Piandao was her friend and likely the better swordsman, Ozai was her brother-in-law who'd been training with her as a favor for months, and the two had never gotten along according to Korzu. "I suppose I could always use another opinion," she added, trying to strike a compromise.

Piandao took the sword, experimentally swinging it through the air a few times. "We should forge a proper sword for you while I'm here. Otherwise, you might get stuck with the armory's idea of an appropriate weapon."

"Forge one?"

"Of course. Your sword should be an extension of you, and the best way to accomplish that is through custom design."

Ozai let out a sharp laugh. "Like a cook's son knows more about designing weapons than the royal armorers."

"You fight with your left," Piandao noted to Ursa, ignoring the comment. "Because of your injury, I assume?"
"Yes."

"Good. Most aren't prepared for a left-handed opponent." He deftly switched the weapon into his own left hand. "Most, but not all. Prince Ozai, if I could trouble you for a sparring match? As a demonstration to the princess."

"Am I up to your standards?" Ozai snorted but readily swung his sword into position. Apprehension crept into Ursa's throat as she backed up to observe; the two might have only had wooden blades, but they were undoubtedly both trained enough to inflict plenty of damage upon each other with just those. Not to mention Ozai's firebending, should he choose to make a point…

"See if you notice anything about my breathing," Piandao said to Ursa, and then he lunged at Ozai.

The fight wasn't close, not even a little, which made Ursa's repeated losses to Ozai all the more embarrassing. He parried strongly first, weakly second, and fell back on Piandao's third blow, sword spinning away. The fourth brought the blade to his neck.

"Naturally, he would've already fried me to a crisp if we were on the battlefield," Piandao said drily, "hence why he doesn't really need to be an expert."

It was something like a peace offering, noting the obvious firebending factor after Piandao had made such quick work of a Fire Prince, but Ozai's face still looked like murder.

"I suppose Iroh wasn't exaggerating when he called you one of the finest swordsmen in the Fire Army," Ursa said quickly to Piandao.

"Oh, he only says that to strangers." He handed her sword back to her, not bothering to help Ozai to his feet. "To my face, he claims he'd be twice the swordsman if he'd focused on that over firebending."

"Do you think he would be?"

"I doubt he'd be twice the swordsman, but I've never known Iroh to struggle with any kind of combat training. Now, what did you notice about my breathing?"

Frankly, the spar had been over too soon for Ursa to remember her assignment. "Um…honestly, nothing. What was I supposed to see?"

"Nothing," he grinned. "That's the point. If you notice something, then the breathing's not in sync. You're focusing too hard on it. Breathing should shift with your body in swordplay as naturally it does when you're simply walking about the gardens in thought."

"That all sounds great, but I don't understand how to teach myself to do that."

"Practice," he shrugged. "Have you been working on meditation or mindfulness at all? It's not just for the benders, you know."

"I have," Ursa said, thinking of her rudimentary studies of the Air Nation scroll and chi paths. "Any tips?"

"Candles," Ozai said abruptly. "I don't know how much use it is for nonbenders, but candle meditation has always been Iroh's favorite. Just don't do it for more than a few minutes at a time or you'll hurt your eyes."

"He's right," Piandao agreed. "Anyway, I'll leave you two to it. The captain's office is still up in the southwest corner of the palace, yeah?"

"Yeah. What are you doing in the captain's office?" Ursa asked.

"Some royal guard pissed me off in a game of sparrowbones last night. I've been meaning to ingratiate myself with the new captain anyway since Jinpa quite liked me, so I thought I might see if I could get a lick of revenge in the process."

"Which guard was it?" Ozai questioned.

"Didn't get a name, only noticed he was a guard because he still had his armbands. Young guy with a nasty scar on his right eye. Know anyone like that?"

Ursa did know someone like that - Captain Jeong Jeong himself - but Ozai briefly raised his eyebrows at her, and she mutely shook her head instead.

"I don't either," Ozai said. "Good luck."

Once Piandao exited the room, Ursa folded her arms and frowned at Ozai. "And what are you hoping to get out of that?"

"Come on, don't tell me you don't think it's funny. You wouldn't have gone along with it otherwise."

"Fine, but if he comes back here mad, you two sort it out."

"Does that mean I get to use firebending?"

"Only if he comes back with an actual blade," Ursa conceded, and Ozai grinned.

Ursa, cont.

I did gain a wonderful blade after that incident thanks to Piandao, and once he got over his sparrowbones quarrel with Jeong Jeong, he gained a lifelong friend. It's always something, tracing such important revelations back to everyday occurrences.

Day 22

They'd settled into something of a system in Omashu, with a rundown apartment to call home for the time being and a tea stall in the bustling market square where it was easy to meet the locals and discuss city affairs without drawing attention. Ratu and Iroh typically stayed in the market while Aran and Jun circled the city as traveling tea salesmen to broaden their reach. After nearly three weeks, it was starting to pay off.

There was a patrol of soldiers that came through the city market rather regularly that Iroh had managed to win over with his ginseng tea and his jokes. His palace party training had come in handy more than he'd thought it would; maybe Ursa was right, and he did have a natural charm outside of simply being a crown prince.

"Good morning, soldiers," he greeted, the pot already ready; these men valued a spot of respect for their service, as well as promptness and good humor. "Anything eventful in the patrols since I've last seen you? Aside from the girls of the city throwing themselves at you."

"If the girls of the city made tea half as decent as yours and your mother's, we'd all be married men." The young patrol leader Shan scooped up his cup and toasted Iroh before sipping.

"In that case, I have some female cousins you might like."

The patrol chuckled, each taking their own cup and nodding at Ratu respectfully. "I say, Cheng," Shan continued speaking to Iroh, "we're having a little party in a couple weeks, celebrating one of the colonel's birthdays. Your tea's incredible; your family should come serve at the party. You'll be paid, of course."

This was exactly the kind of thing Iroh had been hoping for by ingratiating himself with the soldiers. Now, if only he didn't seem too enthusiastic. "Ma?" he deferred to Ratu's acting.

"Oh, it sounds like a nice affair, but I really don't know if we're fancy enough for a big military party." She clasped her hands, playing the part of a worried and unassuming mother delightfully.

"Please, it won't be anything fancy at all. The colonel likes food and drink, and we'll just be in a function hall near the palace. I can send you a formal offer for your services if you like."

"Perhaps that would help," she conceded. "Let me discuss it with my husband, and we'll let you know the next time we see you."

"I'll join the discussion too," Iroh assured the soldiers. "Li and I would definitely like the chance to see some military action up close."

"Don't go talking about military action," Shan laughed, "you'll scare your mother again. I promise, we're not looking to draft your boys. Not that we'd want them to do anything more than make tea if we did." He winked. "Till next time."

Iroh waited for the soldiers to vanish, helping Ratu serve the next wave of customers, before nudging her and smiling a smile that barely contained his excitement. "So, what do you think, Ma?"

"I think we need to talk to your father before making any crazy decisions," she said with a smile. "Why don't you see if you can find him and let him know?"

"Sure thing." Iroh enjoyed wandering the market and busy streets when he could; it reminded him of doing the same thing with Ursa during the Autumn Festival, watching her browse the stalls and delight over cute trinkets she refused to purchase. There was a place near the entrance of the market that sold clay figurines that had no doubt been created with the assistance of earthbending, giving them a level of detail unlike any he'd seen before. He had half a mind to send one to Ursa as a gift, if he could find the right figurine and smuggle a letter out of the city without blowing his cover.

"Did you hear?" a girl said excitedly to her friend as they rushed by Iroh. "King Bumi's got them on the run on the coast! They say he's gearing up for another tsunami."

Such rumors had been swirling around the market for days, to the point where Iroh couldn't decipher what was real anymore. Besides, there was nothing he could do to handle Bumi on the coast from here. The mission was collecting actual, verifiable intelligence on Omashu as a whole, not just its lunatic king.

As he passed by the clay figurine stall, one of them caught his eye: a small cat statue that made him think of Xiliu.

"You like this one?" The nimble-fingered man running the stall noticed his attention and picked it up. "He's a lucky fellow to have around, you know. A guide."

"A guide?"

"Indeed. Spirits tend to take the form of cats when they cross into our world, and if they take a liking to you, they can guide you through troubles you can't even see."

"Is this one a specific spirit?"

"His color indicates he's a water spirit in some beliefs. No specific one, though. Made him myself just this week."

Iroh had read of similar superstitions, but he didn't realize they were still alive in the Earth Kingdom. The more he stared at the figurine, with its grayish coloring, the more he was reminded of Xiliu. Ursa would like it, he decided.

"It's fine work. How much?"

"Thirty coins."

"Come on, for a young tea seller to present to his bride at home?"

Haggling was not something Iroh had been raised to do, but he'd learned a few tricks from Ursa and his few weeks undercover. After successfully bringing the price down to half, he walked on with a new souvenir for Ursa in his pocket, wondering what she would think of the amusing story of cat spirit guides that accompanied it.

Day 30

Iroh had sent a letter.

It wasn't signed and sealed with the usual pomp that accompanied royal correspondence, showing just how careful he must have been about getting it out of Omashu and into her hands, but- well, the logistics hardly mattered. The first she'd heard from Iroh in a month; her hands trembled slightly as she read and reread it, her free hand carefully clutching the adorable cat figurine he'd sent with his message. There was nothing about the mission in the letter (again, likely a precaution, and not really what she was worried about anyway). Instead, the two precious pages were filled with magnificent architecture and fascinating marketplace and I wish you were here, I miss you, I can't wait to see you. That last part both thrilled and pierced her. She wished she was there too, if only to explore another new city with him. Omashu did sound lovely, except for the part where it was enemy territory ruled by a madman.

"You realize you can't write back, right?"

Ursa glanced up from her desk in the library to peer at Ozai, who was standing in his default position: arms folded, lips pursed, judgmental eyes trained on her. It was a good thing she'd gotten used to it.

"I know," she said, trying not to sound too dejected. "I just…I was kind of hoping it would be news he was coming home soon."

"The more time he has in Omashu, the more effective the mission will be," Ozai pointed out, practical as ever.

"Do me a favor and let me be a bit selfish in private."

He looked at her like she'd said something funny. "You really miss him."

On cue, her cheeks warmed. "Shut up."

Surprisingly, he almost smiled at that. "Sister, can I ask a question?"
"Sure," she said, a bit on guard now. Ozai pretty much only called her Sister when he wanted something.

"You didn't want to marry Iroh, right?"

"It was a surprise arrangement," she said carefully. "I suppose I'd say I didn't really have time to get used to the idea of marrying Iroh before it happened. A longer engagement might have looked different."

"Yeah, I'm not trying to snitch on you here," Ozai said bluntly. "He didn't want to marry you either. Neither of you were interested in the whole thing. Right?"

"...Right."

"What changed, then?"

"We just got to know each other," Ursa shrugged. "It doesn't make sense to spend the rest of our lives hung up on a rocky start."

"That's not what I mean." Clearly exasperated, he slumped down in the chair next to her. "Iroh liked you before you liked him. Everyone could see it. What changed you? How did he convince you, if the fact that he was a prince wasn't good enough by itself?"

It was an unusual line of questioning. Ursa peered into his face - the intense as ever eyes, the peach fuzz of his adolescent chin, the cheeks that were finally becoming less round - and decided this was something he needed to hear.

"One of the first promises Iroh made to me was that he would treat me as his equal, regardless of the circumstances of our marriage," she recalled with a fond smile. "And he's kept it, for the most part. He doesn't just listen to me, he actively seeks out my thoughts, remembers what I say, and acts on it. That was what really made me start to look at him differently. Beyond that, well...come on, do you really want me getting into detail about how attractive I find your brother?"

"Ew," he wrinkled his nose. "So, listening and remembering. It was really just that?"

"And apologizing when he's wrong," Ursa added. "That showed me he really meant it, treating me as an equal."

"An equal." Ozai looked as if he were struggling with a foreign concept as he considered her response.

"Well, I have a question now," she said, just barely containing a slight smirk. "If that's fine?"

"Huh? Oh, sure. What?"

"What's her name?"

Ozai stared at her, face slowly reddening. "Uh…"

"The girl you like who doesn't like you back," Ursa teased. "What's her name?"

"There's no girl," he managed to stammer, voice cracking. "I was just- I'm just-"

"You know, just because it worked out for Iroh doesn't mean forcing her to marry you is a good solution."

"I know!" Sparks shot out of his fists as he jolted away from her. "Ugh, why do I bother talking to you?" With that, he stormed off, muttering to himself about princesses and older brothers.

Xiliu chose that moment to hop up on the chair Ozai had been occupying, clearly enjoying the warmth the firebender had left behind as he meowed and curled up.

"I know, XiXi. Why can't all teenage boys be as well-behaved as you?" Ursa set the clay cat next to the live cat on the seat cushion, smiling at the similarity. Iroh had a good eye. She would have to thank him extensively, whenever he returned.

Day 38

The plan they'd agreed on was for Iroh to slip away from the colonel's party once it was well under way, so he could spy on Omashu's central peak and palace under the cover of night. Actually doing it was proving to be a tricky feat, with his tea being almost too popular, but fortunately there were far stronger drinks that were more appealing at military affairs like this. Soon, Iroh's marketplace friend Shan was unsteady on his feet, casually slinging an arm around Iroh's shoulder and attempting to teach him a drinking song about the girls in Ba Sing Se.

"Come on, Shan, haven't you had enough?" one of the other patrolmen, Huan, asked gently. "Why don't you go sit and get some food in you?"

"I'm fine," Shan slurred, pulling himself off Iroh to waggle a finger in his soldier's face. "Just fi-ine. Mind your beeswax."

"Every time, he does this," Huan sighed, watching his captain slump back onto Iroh. "Sorry, Cheng. Want me to pull him off you? It's about time he goes home."

"Nah, that's fine," Iroh assured, trying not to be overly excited about a chance to slip out. "I can stick him in a carriage back to his apartment."

"You sure?"

"Not a problem, could use the fresh air after being trapped in here with you lot all night anyway."

"Hard to argue with that," Huan laughed. "Alright, enjoy your break."

Coaxing Shan out of the function hall and into a street carriage wasn't terribly difficult, thankfully; the young patrol leader was much more amenable to going home once Iroh had learned the lyrics to his drinking song. Now, the task at hand: scouting out Omashu's palace.

When the Fire Nation had last marched on Omashu in 62 AG, the invasion force hadn't been able to reach the palace before Bumi had recovered from his fight with the Fire Lord and thrown them out once more. It sat at the top of the city's highest peak, presumably holding valuable secrets about the city and its king that would be the key to Fire Nation success in a future battle. Iroh doubted he'd be able to find everything tonight, but if he could just figure out a way in for later…well, it would be more than anyone before him had ever accomplished.

Slipping into the shadows of the alleys, Iroh made his way towards the palace, careful to not make too much noise. Curiously, this palace wasn't surrounded with walls like his own home; as he drew near, he could see a few guards stationed around the building itself. It was tall, of course, marked with green stone carvings like any Earth Kingdom palace ought to be. He'd ended up approaching one of its sides rather than the front, but decided that was for the best. The front was too obvious, and would likely be even more heavily guarded.

Keeping an ear out for anyone sneaking up on him, Iroh crept along the perimeter, both relieved and unnerved by the lack of walls and the oddly low number of guards. Why would Bumi want his palace so open and approachable? Was it a show of confidence, or simple lunacy? Either way, it exposed him to an attack…if an invading force was ever able to make it this far into the city.

"Help me!"

A young woman's cry immediately made him freeze, but it wasn't directed at him. She ran up to the pair of guards closest to Iroh, clearly frantic.

"Help me, guards, please-"

"Easy, miss, what's happened?"

"I've been robbed," she sobbed, burying her face in her hands. "He took my- my mother's necklace…"

Iroh's heart went out to the poor girl. Crime, it seemed, was a universal plague.

"Please," she whimpered, "The patrols in my neighborhood wouldn't help me because the man who did it, he brings them free drinks on their nights off…I know the King's away, but-"

"It's alright. Here, come on in. We'll have the chief take a statement from you."

Then, the guard who'd spoken turned to the wall behind him and spread his arms apart. The rock shuddered and split, revealing a doorway that he guided the woman through. The remaining guard sealed up the door again, like it had never existed.

Oh, Iroh realized. That was the trick. The palace didn't need that much protection because the only way in was with earthbending, so they simply had guards at each entry point to ensure controlled access. The women in distress gave him an idea…if it was that easy to slip into the palace, even just for a brief audience with the patrolmen's chief, he could certainly come up with a story.

He made his way to a different entrance to avoid arousing the suspicions of the guards who'd helped the girl, mentally developing his character's reason for being there. Ursa had taught him that the best performance was infused with kernels of truth.

"Excuse me," he approached a pair of guards hesitantly. "I, um…I think I need some help."

They were two older men, the taller of whom was already regarding Iroh with a sort of fatherly look. He'd picked well. "What is it, son?" the tall guard asked.

"Honestly, I'm kind of lost. My family's only been in Omashu for like a month, and this is my first time on the central peak. We live down near the markets, usually…I wanted to see the palace and sort of wandered too far."

The guard chuckled. "Magnificent, isn't it? Well, come in. You can have a look while we get you set up with an escort to take you home."

Iroh raised his eyebrows. "Really?"

"Sure. Newcomers deserve a little extra welcome." With that, the tall guard earthbent the door open and waved Iroh through.

"You're all really hospitable here," Iroh noted, playing up the part of the fascinated tourist in the palace to excuse the way he gawked all over the place. It really wasn't too much of an act, really: he needed information, it was true, but it was genuinely incredible to see an Earth Kingdom palace in person. If he'd thought Omashu was beautifully sculpted, Bumi's proud green palace made it look like a crudely cobbled together pile of rocks.

"The good King Bumi believes the palace only exists to serve the needs of the people. How can we do that if the people are kept out of the palace entirely?"

"I suppose that's true."

"You said you and your family have been here a month; planning to stay?"

"Not permanently, but maybe as long as the money's good. Omashu's definitely the biggest city we've been to."

"Yeah? What is it you all do?"

"Sell tea," Iroh said with a self-deprecating smile.

"Ah, an honest day's work. Here, our chief's office. He'll get you squared away."

Sure enough, the girl Iroh had seen earlier emerged from the office teary-eyed, and was escorted away by her own guard once he'd sealed the door behind them. Even this simple door required earthbending to open and shut; did Omashu have no nonbenders in its high ranks?

"Thank you very much," Iroh said to the kind old guard, slipping into the office himself. What he would have really liked was a moment alone in the chief's office to get a better sense of the patrol routes throughout the city and other defenses, but a brief chat to arrange his travel back to his apartment would have to do for now.

"You wandered quite a way, huh?" The chief said, eying a map of the city hanging on the wall. Iroh tried to memorize it as much as possible, even though it didn't contain as much military information as he would've liked.

"Guess so. I think we live in the southeast corridor? The merchant apartment we stay it is called 'The Dove's Nest.'"

"That would make sense, from the markets you sell at." The chief scribbled something down and handed it to him. "Here, there should be an escort outside for you, just show him the address. Try not to go wandering at night, okay? You're a strong looking fellow, but there's no need to take risks."

If only he knew. "Sure, chief. Thanks."

Outside, the kind old guard was speaking to a brown-skinned man who looked even older than him, with a slight hunch, gray tufts of hair, bulging eyes and a crooked grin. "Why, hello there, young fellow," the stranger greeted. "I understand you got lost while looking for this marvelous palace and need an escort home. Is that the address from the chief?"

"Uh, yeah." This was his escort? The man was at least seventy. What help was he supposed to be against any perceived risks? Pushing those thoughts away, Iroh handed the slip of paper over with what he hoped was a polite smile.

"Southeast corridor, eh? Bit of a hike. You want to take a shortcut?"

"Sure," Iroh said, still hesitant. Was "shortcut" code for something? It certainly seemed to be, with the way his escort's grin widened mischievously.

"Good, good. Follow me."

Confusingly, the escort didn't turn back the way they came, instead leading him deeper into the palace. Iroh shot the old guard a look, but he simply smiled and waved him on. "Go on, son. I'm sure your parents are waiting for you."

Well, at least he had more time in the palace. Iroh asked a few touristy questions as they walked; he couldn't get too specific with military inquiries, of course, but other areas were fair game.

"Perhaps this is an odd question."

"No such thing as an odd question, young fellow."

"Is it only earthbenders who work in the palace?" Iroh asked. "It seems like it'd be a pain to navigate this place as a nonbender."

"Indeed it would be, wouldn't it?" His escort chuckled. "All walks of life are welcome here, if they come with the right intentions. That's the good King Bumi's way."

The insane King Bumi was more like it, but Iroh kept that thought to himself.

"Here we are, then. Our shortcut." The escort bent yet another door open, revealing-

"The mail room?" Iroh asked incredulously, glancing at the mail carts in the corner and the chutes crisscrossing above them. "How is this a shortcut?"

"Come now, what do you know about the mail system of this city?"

"It's…pretty big, isn't it?" He just barely managed to keep himself from reciting a textbook answer. "Runs on earthbending? I've seen the chutes all over the city."

"Exactly." His escort grinned. "Now, why might that be useful to us?"

"Uh…if we wanted to send a package to my parents, I guess?"

"Or…" One of the mail carts scooted forward as the man flicked his hand, positioning itself at the loading dock into the system, and it finally clicked in Iroh's head.

"I see," Iroh laughed. "A person delivery system as well. Alright, that's funny, but we can just walk."

"What, walk? When we've already wasted so much time just getting here? Your parents must be worried for you."

The mail room door slid shut with a decisive thud, and Iroh became keenly aware that he was trapped with this old earthbender who had a challenge glinting in his eyes. "Okay," he said, trying to toe the line between tourist nerves and his own princely confidence. "Shortcut it is."

Fighting off the feeling that he was stepping into a grave, Iroh hopped into the cart, his escort settling himself in front of him. "Ladies and gentlemen," he giggled more to himself than Iroh, "please keep your arms and legs inside the ride at all times."

That was all the warning before the cart suddenly shot towards the chutes above them at ridiculous speed. Forgetting all pretense, Iroh grabbed the sides for dear life and shrieked.

"Screaming's half the fun!" His escort called as they landed on a chute and zoomed forward. Immediately, there was a new worry: the drop they were approaching as they exited the palace. From the top of the city's highest peak, to the southeast corridor…gravity took the packages down.

Don't scream, Iroh tried to tell his body, but a yelp still escaped him as they careened over the edge and downhill at a concerning speed.

"Come on now, young Cheng," his escort whooped, "this is the sort of thing boys your age are supposed to love! Where's your spirit?"

"I think it left my body at the top of the mountain!"

That made the man laugh, and he slowed their pace enough that Iroh could register his blood roaring in his ears instead of the wind.

"Do you do this often?" he managed to ask. Something told him engaging with his escort would stop him from doing anything else too crazy.

"More when I was a boy, but sometimes I can be persuaded to give youngsters a little ride," he chuckled. "It's a good way to get a bird's eye view of the city, so I thought you might enjoy it too."

Iroh certainly would have, if it weren't the middle of the night. He braced as they took a few turns without slowing down, starting to get the hang of how the earthbending physics worked.

"So, what do you think of my city so far?"

"Your city?" Iroh echoed.

"I've lived here my whole life, eighty years and change. There's been a lot of ups and downs with the war and all, but I think it's kept its charm despite everything. Still, good to hear an outsider's perspective."

Considering the question while careening downhill at high speeds was a challenge, but as Iroh glanced out at the buildings rushing by, glinting under the moonlight, he found an answer. "I think it has spirit. Quite a feat, considering the war keeps getting closer."

"Indeed. Everytime it comes near, the good King Bumi pushes it back. Like a wave lapping at a shore." He turned his head enough that one bulging eye focused in on Iroh. "But some might say the wave would wear away at the shore after long enough, wouldn't they?"

"They would," Iroh agreed neutrally. "At the same time, after nearly seventy years, it's anyone's guess how long 'long enough' is."

"'Anyone's guess,'" he cackled. "A newcomer would say so."

With that, the cart jolted to a stop. Iroh peered over the side to see that they were almost at street level, hovering by the roofs of houses that he recognized as being near his apartment.

"Wow," he whistled. "That really was a shortcut."

"I'm glad you agree, young Cheng," the man chuckled. "I believe your apartment will be at the next intersection if you keep going this way. A pleasure meeting you, and I hope you enjoy the rest of your time in the city. Here," he rummaged in his pockets, "a special Omashu treat for you."

The purple ring that dropped into Iroh's hand was oddly beautiful. "What is it?"

"Jennamite."

"What?" He had to stop himself from throwing it aside. "Isn't that dangerous?"

"Only if you don't swallow it before it swallows you. It's rock candy, boy." To prove the point, the old man popped a similar yellow ring into his mouth and chewed noisily. "Just has a few special properties."

"Oh." His instinct told him to toss the deadly creeping crystal as far away from him as possible, but his manners and good sense rebutted that the polite and normal thing to do was pop it into his mouth. Not wanting to become more memorable through rudeness, he obeyed his manners. The rock candy was as hard as its name suggested, but it crumbled surprisingly easily under the pressure of his teeth. Sweetness flooded his mouth.

"Rock candy. What will they think of next?" he joked once he'd swallowed, tentatively swinging his legs out of the cart. "Thanks very much for the ride and the treat, sir. Have a good night."

"You as well, Cheng. And don't forget your address, in case you go wandering off at night again." The old man handed him the paper with his standard mischievous smile. "Toodle-oo!"

Iroh leapt down from the chute to the street below, waving goodbye as the strange old man earthbent the mail cart back the way they'd came. Was he really going to reverse course all the way to the palace? That was quite a bit of bending for someone his age.

Whatever. Right now, his biggest concern was getting home, soothing his fake family's fears, and collapsing into bed; the little adventure had taken much longer than he'd expected. He peered down at the paper to double check his address before going on his way.

But there were quite a few lines written, when his address should have only taken one.

Frowning, Iroh held the paper up to decipher the writing in the moonlight. With each cryptic word that became clear, a cold sense of fear poured into his belly…topped off by the chilling realization that no one in the palace had asked for his name, yet the crazy old man had known it anyway.

Day 47

"They'll bloom any day now," Ursa explained, showing off her chrysanthemum plants to Hana with a mix of pride and self-consciousness. "I'll bring you a bouquet once they do. I'm sure it'll be a good bloom."

"I can't believe you know how to do this. I think if I tried to grow anything it would just shrivel up," Hana laughed.

"Well, I can't believe you really know ten ways to knock someone unconscious."
"Hey, you would too if you'd attended the royal academy. I'm sure Headmistress Aiko will get around to teaching you that part eventually."

The friendship between Ursa and Hana had grown in Iroh's absence, with another chance meeting in the city leading to eventual lunches together and, now, invitations to each other's homes. If the girl was after something, Ursa had no idea what it was: so far, they'd merely exchanged more thoughts on various plays and discussed their daily lives at a rather surface level. But spending time with Hana was good, if only so Ursa had someone to talk to that wasn't a servant or an in-law.

"You know what's a shame?" Ursa asked.

"The fact that there's no theaters in the capital that are still active?"

"Besides that, Hana, we already talked about that," she laughed. "No, the fact that there's no fire lilies here. I love the Fire Lily festival, but they only bloom in such specific meadows. Not like chrysanthemums."

"I don't think I've ever seen a fire lily in real life," Hana said. "Is it really that remarkable?"

"I think how rare and brief their blooms are is what makes them remarkable, if that makes sense."

"People love things they can't have. Like how I just love this cat of yours," Hana cooed, reaching down to scratch Xiliu's ears as he rubbed himself against her legs. "If Mariko wasn't so uptight about fur in the house, I'd have three of him."

"Another reason to help her get married and out of your hair," Ursa pointed out.

"What 'help?' She could help herself by accepting she never had a real shot at princess and lowering her sights a little bit." Hana shook her head with a sigh. "My sister is a perfectly smart and capable woman, but for whatever reason she just hyperfixated on winning Prince Iroh's attention, and now she doesn't seem to know what to do with herself except keep on looking for a husband of similar esteem."

"I'd apologize if I didn't know Iroh wouldn't have chosen her anyway."

"Don't apologize. The capital marriage scene has always been ugly about the princes. That's hardly your fault."

Ursa considered that statement, remembering what Iroh had said about Ozai being ready for his own marriage proposals now. "So, you think the teenage noble girls will be just as competitive about Ozai?"

"Probably less since he's the second heir, and…well," she lowered her voice, "he doesn't have as good of a reputation as his brother did with the girls in town. But royalty is royalty all the same."

Not as good of a reputation, huh? Perhaps that was why Ozai had come to her for advice with his little one-sided crush. But before she could press Hana for more information, her friend's eyes widened. "Oh!"

"What?" Ursa quickly turned around, fearing Azulon or Ozai eavesdropping on their girl talk.

It was Iroh.

With a half-healed black eye, his shoulders hunched over, and his arms gingerly cradling his torso like something had broken inside him.

"Iroh!" she gasped, running to him as horror quickly replaced the joy of his return. "What happened?"

A/N: Maybe I'm leaving you on a cliffhanger because I'm trying something suspenseful…maybe I'm too lazy to write the inbetween parts right now and wanted to get the chapter up…maybe I want to entertain myself by reading guesses in the comments…who knows? Until next week, folks.

~Bobbi