A/N: Many thanks to Guest, AsahixMe, Sharpe, Black Dragon Master, MasterKriebel, MagatsuIza, BraviaryScout, devilfiredog18, CrazyPhenom, and Aquamirra for reviewing!
44. Let's take these issues step by step by step to work it out
Sparring with Iroh is…intense.
Now, obviously, he knows the prince isn't actively trying to kill him — but right at this moment, it's a little hard to remember that.
Iroh is alternating randomly between rapid, concentrated bursts of fire and long, sweeping arcs of flame — and in between, he's closing in with impressively vigorous, insanely fast hand-to-hand combat.
It's all he can do to avoid being hit, let alone land any offensive.
He should be flattered, really. Iroh must think highly of his abilities to throw this much at him.
He twists to the side to avoid a jet of flame, correctly (luckily) predicts that Iroh will follow up with a punch, and uses the momentum to unbalance him.
Iroh recovers remarkably quickly in order to deflect the fire blast he shoots, and the next thing he knows, his legs are being swept out from under him and Iroh's hand is at his neck.
"Yield," he gasps.
Iroh, also panting heavily, straightens and offers a hand to pull him up. "You're very good," he compliments.
"You're better," he retorts.
"Well, yes." Iroh smirks as he heads over to the benches on the side of the training courtyard and flips the cap on his water bottle. "But only because I have the advantage of years of royal training and military experience."
He grunts as he guzzles his own water, pausing between large sips to resupply his oxygen. Rivulets of sweat drip down his torso; he hasn't had a workout this hard since he quit pro-bending.
"Thanks for trying to boost my ego," he says when he gets enough breath back, "but I'm well aware I'm not a match for you."
"No, I mean it," Iroh disagrees. "Seriously, Mako — for someone with no formal combat training, you're an excellent fighter. And a powerful bender."
He's unsure what to do with such frank praise from the Prince of the Fire Nation, so he glances across at where Korra is speaking with Mai Lee a few yards away. He must have looked over at a break in their conversation too: the Fire Princess salutes cheekily at Iroh — who playfully salutes back — and Korra is staring.
They'd stripped off their shirts, Agni Kai style (though obviously this was no Agni Kai, and he has a feeling he'd lose if it was), and although Iroh is definitively more chiseled than he is, Korra is staring at him.
Very appreciatively, too.
Ignoring the sudden heat that has nothing to do with their sparring, he turns back to Iroh. "I spoke to your mother yesterday."
"I heard." Iroh leans casually against the bench. Evidently, the physical exercise has cleared his mind some and put him in a better mood — which means it's a good time to suggest what he's thinking.
"I think I have some idea of the things that are important to her, where you're concerned."
Iroh raises an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"The way I see it," he plows on, "Izumi has three main reasons why she wants you to move back here for good: she wants you to begin courting someone and start establishing your political influence, and she doesn't want anything…untoward to happen to you in the Forces."
Iroh's expression is quizzical. "Yes, she's told me this before. This is not news, Mako."
"Hear me out, okay? You want to remain in the Forces because you're not ready to give that up; she wants you here because you need to date a Fire Nation woman and you need to build your influence with your people. Your mother's right when she says you need to be in the Fire Nation more for both of the above to happen. But you don't want to move back full time just yet, right?"
"Right," Iroh affirms, still puzzled.
"So, it seems obvious that you need to find some way that allows you to be here more but still remain in the Forces. Can't you ask for a posting here or something?"
"My mother is unlikely to take kindly to a foreign fleet in our waters," Iroh notes wryly. "Regardless if I'm the one leading it."
"Well, maybe some flexible working arrangement then. I don't know…four months in the United Republic, two months here?"
Iroh purses his lips thoughtfully. "That's not typically how military service works."
"Yeah, well, generals of fleets typically aren't crown princes of other countries either."
"Point." Iroh falls back into contemplative silence.
He lets him think. He is well aware that what he's proposing — while it seems like common sense to him — is a novel idea to Iroh. Iroh's acute sense of duty would preclude him from thinking of this arrangement himself; his instinct would be to see it as a half-hearted attempt at both his major obligations. Moreover, such a work schedule would hardly be approved of in even the most lenient of occupations, let alone a field as demanding as the military (or royalty, for that matter).
He can understand Iroh's hesitation. He shudders to imagine what Lin would say if he wanted a similar arrangement — but then, he isn't Crown Prince. Iroh has seventeen years of outstanding military service to his name, and the United Republic hierarchy cannot be unaware that the prince's career in the Forces has an expiry date; surely exceptions can be made?
"I'll think about it," Iroh says finally. "Thanks for the suggestion. In the meantime, would you like to visit the Royal Archives this afternoon?"
He straightens unconsciously. "Yes. You're free?"
"Not really," Iroh says lightly. "But as Grandfather likes to say, sometimes helping other people ends up helping yourself as well."
The side of his lip curls in a half-smile. "You're really close to your grandfather, aren't you?"
Before Iroh can answer, a slender knife whistles past without warning, striking the target at the end of the courtyard dead center. He has instinctively ducked and rolled back to his feet with a fireball aimed at the direction the knife came from before Iroh stops him with a chuckle.
"Relax, Mako." The prince glances across the courtyard and raises his voice. "Careful, Mai! You nearly got yourself roasted."
Mai Lee snorts and flings another knife at the same destination — and given the startling accuracy of her first volley, he can only assume that she meant to hit the very edge of the target.
"Please," she scoffs lightly. "The very first thing Dad taught me was how to avoid bending attacks." She lopes over casually, followed by Korra. "Did I hear you say you're going to the Royal Archives? What for?"
"Eavesdropping is rude, Mai," Iroh reproaches, but there's a smile lurking in his voice. "Yes, I'm taking Mako — and I'm assuming Bolin?" He nods; Bolin will want to come. "— to see if they can find any record of their mother in the census."
"Oh, what village was she from?" Mai Lee directs this at him. When he admits he doesn't know, she visibly winces. "That's a needle in a haystack. Those records are vast."
"I know." Iroh's tone is apologetic as he affirms Mai's remark to him. "It's worth a shot, though."
"I'll help," Korra assures him.
"I'll come along too," Mai Lee volunteers cheerfully.
He blinks at this willing offer from a girl who is virtually a stranger. "Ah, you don't need to do that, Your — er, Mai." The princess has already made it clear from their introduction this morning that her nickname is her preferred form of her address, and that she isn't interested in titles from her brother's friend.
Mai Lee waves his polite protest aside. "Don't worry, I'm not doing anything this afternoon — and trust me, you'll need the extra pair of eyes. What time shall I meet you there?" She gazes expectantly at Iroh, who looks amused.
"Three o'clock," the prince responds.
Four hours from now.
He is at once both nervous and excited. Four hours from now, he begins a search he's wanted to undertake nearly his whole life.
He doesn't know yet if it'll lead him anywhere, or if he will even find anything.
But it's a start.
A/N: Lyric from 'Why Worry' by Set It Off - told you you'd be hearing from them again.
For some reason, it's really easy to write Mako-Iroh conversations; the dialogue just flows so well.
What do y'all think of Mai Lee? ;)