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keelywolfeInterlude, Iroh
By Keelywolfe
Summary: Set during Sozin's comet part 2. Iroh gets an entirely new view of his nephew.
Fourteenth in a series:
No Turning Back
Division of Time
Conflicted
Manly Pursuits
Interlude: Aang
Say Anything
Interlude, Suki
Random Curiosity
Envy Was A Fever
Couldn't Drag Me Away
For the Love of Cheese
Interlude, Toph
As Easy As Breathing
~*~
It was easier than Iroh would have thought to stand aside and allow Zuko to make the morning tea. His nephew had become quite the adept tea brewer, as Iroh had always known he could if he allowed himself the chance. He watched as the young man measured the leaves carefully, minding the water with a cautious eye until it was the proper temperature. Almost, Iroh reached to take the pot, restraining himself as Zuko caught it, working calmly as he poured the steaming water over the waiting leaves, unfamiliar serenity in Zuko as he waited for it to steep.
Always that had been Zuko's problem, his anger and his lack of patience. His nephew had always had little patience for others and none whatsoever for himself. It had made training him a challenge, a worthy one, but a challenge nonetheless. Zuko had been so convinced that he had to do everything flawlessly the first time, never adhering to the adage of practice makes perfect.
It saddened him that he had his brother to thank for that, Ozai and certainly Azula, to whom everything had always come so easily. Neither of them knew what Iroh did and what it seemed Zuko had learned; that facing a challenge and overcoming it made one stronger. They would never understand that their true weakness was that they had never had to struggle past failure. It would undo them, one day. Perhaps this day.
Something had changed in Zuko since he'd seen his nephew last. Zuko had told him little about his confrontation with his father, only saying that his technique in redirecting lightning had been useful.
Hearing that had made a belated rush of fear tighten in Iroh's stomach; he had very nearly lost the boy and hadn't even known it. The very thought of Ozai doing such a thing to his own son was an abomination. He shouldn't be astonished; he shouldn't be so horribly surprised. He knew what his brother was capable of, had seen it with his own eyes. And yet, somehow he always was.
He'd been a sweet child, happy and loving. That child was long since lost, sacrificed in his brother's relentless climb to power.
Zuko had been such a child once as well and that child had been lost in much the same way, sacrificed to Ozai. How many times had his life been nearly ended by the one who was supposed to protect it the most?
The other young ones were approaching, drawn by the heady scent of tea and they all settled around the fire with the familiarity of old friends. It made Iroh smile, secretly, to see his nephew amongst such friends, so obviously one of them with their drowsy morning smiles and jostling.
The young Water Tribe boy yawned loudly as he brushed past Zuko, his nephew's eyes following him, and Iroh narrowed his own eyes, studying them.
Ah, so it was that one, then. He'd suspected as much. He rather wished he'd known his nephew's preference in Ba Sing Se. When a man craved oolong, jasmine tea was never quite as satisfying. He'd had no idea he'd been offering the boy the wrong flavor.
He leaned in closer to his nephew to keep their words private. "A remarkable young man," Iroh commented mildly, gesturing vaguely at the others.
"He's all right," Zuko muttered, carefully pouring the tea into cups. Fragrant steam billowed around them and Iroh inhaled it deeply, pleased.
"How long have the two of you been friends?" he kept his voice quiet, almost casual but a glare from his nephew told him that the boy wasn't fooled. Ah, so his temper wasn't completely lost then.
"Since I joined the Avatar's group, I guess," Zuko said, sipping his own tea tentatively, testing it.
"Mm," Iroh said, speculating. "That long? I didn’t realize you were such a fast worker, my nephew."
Ah, and that was a shame. Jasmine tea lost a great deal of its soothing capacity when it was inhaled. Iroh patted Zuko helpfully on the back as he coughed, neatly avoiding his nephew's hand as he tried to bat him away.
"It's not like that, Uncle," he managed to rasp out, furiously.
"Ah. You must like your tea very early in the morning, then."
He could see the urge to ask warring with Zuko's knowledge that it would probably be better not to know and couldn't help smiling inwardly when his nephew asked, reluctantly. "Why do you say that?"
"I mean when Sokka was leaving your tent so early this morning, after your rest. You were having tea, I'm sure."
Instantly, a flood of crimson heated Zuko's cheeks brilliantly, visible even through his scar. "Okay, maybe it's a little like that," he muttered.
"Mm, yes," Iroh said, noncommittally. He picked up his own cup, sipping it slowly. "Excellently done, my nephew. "
Zuko astonished him yet again with an almost shy smile, ducking his head at the praise. He could see the ghost of the child he had been in that smile but it was the man he was becoming that made Iroh's chest swell with pride.
My son, he could never call the boy, he would never hear the word father from Zuko's lips. But that didn't make it any less true. Zuko had not been abandoned so much as he had been thrown away but that did not make him unwanted.
My child, Iroh thought, fiercely. Mine.
"Do you mean Sokka or the tea?" Zuko said softly, dryly, and it startled a laugh from Iroh. A smile and a joke, no less! Yes, his nephew had changed and it made him love the boy all the more. His nephew had grown from a sweet child to a surly teenager to a strong young man. Not his son, not a thing like Lu Ten, and Iroh would not have changed him for all the world.
He clapped his nephew firmly on the shoulder, leaving him to carry the tray of cups to the others. "This reminds me of my favorite tea joke," he announced loudly, moving to sit by the fire. "There were two lotus flowers that spent an entire day growing, reaching towards the sun, only to have night fall before they could open. The next day when the sun rose, the first flower turned to the second and asked, 'should we open today?' To which the second replied--"
"Leaf me alone, I'm bushed," came a chorus from around the fire.
Iroh blinked. "I see, you've heard that one."
"Something like that," Toph snorted and a titter of laughter came from all the children, although none offered a reason. Keeping their secrets, he saw, whatever had caused his nephew to blush and the others to laugh would not be shared with him. Zuko settled next to him with his own cup, drinking in silence though his eyes were drawn again and again to another pair across the fire, gold meeting blue before one of them would glance away and then the play began again.
When the cups were empty Zuko retrieved them as if out of habit, going back to the small tent that held their kitchen supplies. Iroh followed him and helped him gather a pot to prepare their breakfast. It was enough that children must fight in this war but Iroh refused to allow them to do so on an empty stomach.
"I really like him." So softly that for a moment Iroh wasn't convinced he'd actually heard it. He turned to look at his nephew-
(Not his son, no, except that he was.)
-questioningly, and Zuko smiled again, a little.
"A remarkable young man," Iroh repeated, and he pulled his nephew into a rough hug, dropping everything that he'd gathered. For just a moment, he felt that lost child again in the tight way Zuko clung to him, but it was Zuko who let go first, kneeling to gather up the tumbled makings of their breakfast. After a moment, Iroh helped him and the two of them went outside, Iroh following his nephew, his son that this day he might once again be sending out to die.
Destiny, he knew, was a funny thing. You never know how things are going to work out.
But he could hope.
-finis-
By Keelywolfe
Summary: Set during Sozin's comet part 2. Iroh gets an entirely new view of his nephew.
Fourteenth in a series:
No Turning Back
Division of Time
Conflicted
Manly Pursuits
Interlude: Aang
Say Anything
Interlude, Suki
Random Curiosity
Envy Was A Fever
Couldn't Drag Me Away
For the Love of Cheese
Interlude, Toph
As Easy As Breathing
~*~
It was easier than Iroh would have thought to stand aside and allow Zuko to make the morning tea. His nephew had become quite the adept tea brewer, as Iroh had always known he could if he allowed himself the chance. He watched as the young man measured the leaves carefully, minding the water with a cautious eye until it was the proper temperature. Almost, Iroh reached to take the pot, restraining himself as Zuko caught it, working calmly as he poured the steaming water over the waiting leaves, unfamiliar serenity in Zuko as he waited for it to steep.
Always that had been Zuko's problem, his anger and his lack of patience. His nephew had always had little patience for others and none whatsoever for himself. It had made training him a challenge, a worthy one, but a challenge nonetheless. Zuko had been so convinced that he had to do everything flawlessly the first time, never adhering to the adage of practice makes perfect.
It saddened him that he had his brother to thank for that, Ozai and certainly Azula, to whom everything had always come so easily. Neither of them knew what Iroh did and what it seemed Zuko had learned; that facing a challenge and overcoming it made one stronger. They would never understand that their true weakness was that they had never had to struggle past failure. It would undo them, one day. Perhaps this day.
Something had changed in Zuko since he'd seen his nephew last. Zuko had told him little about his confrontation with his father, only saying that his technique in redirecting lightning had been useful.
Hearing that had made a belated rush of fear tighten in Iroh's stomach; he had very nearly lost the boy and hadn't even known it. The very thought of Ozai doing such a thing to his own son was an abomination. He shouldn't be astonished; he shouldn't be so horribly surprised. He knew what his brother was capable of, had seen it with his own eyes. And yet, somehow he always was.
He'd been a sweet child, happy and loving. That child was long since lost, sacrificed in his brother's relentless climb to power.
Zuko had been such a child once as well and that child had been lost in much the same way, sacrificed to Ozai. How many times had his life been nearly ended by the one who was supposed to protect it the most?
The other young ones were approaching, drawn by the heady scent of tea and they all settled around the fire with the familiarity of old friends. It made Iroh smile, secretly, to see his nephew amongst such friends, so obviously one of them with their drowsy morning smiles and jostling.
The young Water Tribe boy yawned loudly as he brushed past Zuko, his nephew's eyes following him, and Iroh narrowed his own eyes, studying them.
Ah, so it was that one, then. He'd suspected as much. He rather wished he'd known his nephew's preference in Ba Sing Se. When a man craved oolong, jasmine tea was never quite as satisfying. He'd had no idea he'd been offering the boy the wrong flavor.
He leaned in closer to his nephew to keep their words private. "A remarkable young man," Iroh commented mildly, gesturing vaguely at the others.
"He's all right," Zuko muttered, carefully pouring the tea into cups. Fragrant steam billowed around them and Iroh inhaled it deeply, pleased.
"How long have the two of you been friends?" he kept his voice quiet, almost casual but a glare from his nephew told him that the boy wasn't fooled. Ah, so his temper wasn't completely lost then.
"Since I joined the Avatar's group, I guess," Zuko said, sipping his own tea tentatively, testing it.
"Mm," Iroh said, speculating. "That long? I didn’t realize you were such a fast worker, my nephew."
Ah, and that was a shame. Jasmine tea lost a great deal of its soothing capacity when it was inhaled. Iroh patted Zuko helpfully on the back as he coughed, neatly avoiding his nephew's hand as he tried to bat him away.
"It's not like that, Uncle," he managed to rasp out, furiously.
"Ah. You must like your tea very early in the morning, then."
He could see the urge to ask warring with Zuko's knowledge that it would probably be better not to know and couldn't help smiling inwardly when his nephew asked, reluctantly. "Why do you say that?"
"I mean when Sokka was leaving your tent so early this morning, after your rest. You were having tea, I'm sure."
Instantly, a flood of crimson heated Zuko's cheeks brilliantly, visible even through his scar. "Okay, maybe it's a little like that," he muttered.
"Mm, yes," Iroh said, noncommittally. He picked up his own cup, sipping it slowly. "Excellently done, my nephew. "
Zuko astonished him yet again with an almost shy smile, ducking his head at the praise. He could see the ghost of the child he had been in that smile but it was the man he was becoming that made Iroh's chest swell with pride.
My son, he could never call the boy, he would never hear the word father from Zuko's lips. But that didn't make it any less true. Zuko had not been abandoned so much as he had been thrown away but that did not make him unwanted.
My child, Iroh thought, fiercely. Mine.
"Do you mean Sokka or the tea?" Zuko said softly, dryly, and it startled a laugh from Iroh. A smile and a joke, no less! Yes, his nephew had changed and it made him love the boy all the more. His nephew had grown from a sweet child to a surly teenager to a strong young man. Not his son, not a thing like Lu Ten, and Iroh would not have changed him for all the world.
He clapped his nephew firmly on the shoulder, leaving him to carry the tray of cups to the others. "This reminds me of my favorite tea joke," he announced loudly, moving to sit by the fire. "There were two lotus flowers that spent an entire day growing, reaching towards the sun, only to have night fall before they could open. The next day when the sun rose, the first flower turned to the second and asked, 'should we open today?' To which the second replied--"
"Leaf me alone, I'm bushed," came a chorus from around the fire.
Iroh blinked. "I see, you've heard that one."
"Something like that," Toph snorted and a titter of laughter came from all the children, although none offered a reason. Keeping their secrets, he saw, whatever had caused his nephew to blush and the others to laugh would not be shared with him. Zuko settled next to him with his own cup, drinking in silence though his eyes were drawn again and again to another pair across the fire, gold meeting blue before one of them would glance away and then the play began again.
When the cups were empty Zuko retrieved them as if out of habit, going back to the small tent that held their kitchen supplies. Iroh followed him and helped him gather a pot to prepare their breakfast. It was enough that children must fight in this war but Iroh refused to allow them to do so on an empty stomach.
"I really like him." So softly that for a moment Iroh wasn't convinced he'd actually heard it. He turned to look at his nephew-
(Not his son, no, except that he was.)
-questioningly, and Zuko smiled again, a little.
"A remarkable young man," Iroh repeated, and he pulled his nephew into a rough hug, dropping everything that he'd gathered. For just a moment, he felt that lost child again in the tight way Zuko clung to him, but it was Zuko who let go first, kneeling to gather up the tumbled makings of their breakfast. After a moment, Iroh helped him and the two of them went outside, Iroh following his nephew, his son that this day he might once again be sending out to die.
Destiny, he knew, was a funny thing. You never know how things are going to work out.
But he could hope.
-finis-
