uncle_iroh | Inbox for Sn: Pai Sho

Iroh pet the little dragon as he watched his nephew pace. He wasn't sure what was wrong, but he was certain that whatever it was, they could weather it. Together. So he thought he was ready for anything.

Anything but that.

It was only down to his years that he managed not to drop the Familiar - or his jaw - to the floor. He needed to understand what exactly Zuko meant to have any idea what to do from there. Because for the first time in years he was utterly blank. "She is here?" he asked, voice faking calm, as though he could pass some of that to the boy.

He listened. He managed to keep most of his own emotions off his face for most of that, other than interested politeness. But it was harder, so much harder at the mention of the lullaby. He did it, but not with ease.

But for all he didn't show the deep emotions, they did colour how he internalized the rest of what he listened to. How he thought about it. When Zuko asked his questions he nodded. "There is no just about passion, Zuko," he said. Where his face was its usual polite and loving self his voice... ah his voice. It was slightly thickened by emotion. "There is no just about any emotion, any drive. It is what we each make of it, and it can be as small and personal as your own heart - itself no small thing - or it can be as bright and fiery as the sun at noon in summer. Passion is individual. It is the flame or flames within us. But with all flames we must nurture it. And we were trained to nurture only the flames of war. We had to learn elsewhere that there were other flames as well."

He let him in. "Sit on the sofa, tea is nearly ready. We will see to your bites first."

[He gave the address of the inn and his room number.]

"I shall put on tea."

"No, but she's alive! Aang told me! So I confronted Azula about it..."

...And now he's here. Pacing and looking an emotional wreck. So clearly that went well...

"It's not that bad..."

He does as told, setting the tsungi horn down on the floor beside him when he does. Zun scurries onto the arm of the couch to oversee everything here. He goes ahead and rolls up his pant leg, revealing the bite, which indeed isn't that bad, but it's definitely still a wound to be tended. It was more than a nip. But how nonchalant Zuko is about it clearly shows this is not the first time the other dragon has bit him.

"And Azula knew," he finished, gravely. Had it just been Azula, he would have doubted. Despite how it might have seemed, however, he trusted the Avatar. Which meant that rather than suspicion, anger was roiling within him. He did his best to keep it contained, but was not as successful as he usually was. He had chosen to tell everyone other than Zuko that he was from an earlier time to give his niece a chance. They had not even spoken yet and he was already finding cause to think he had wasted his efforts.

He hissed softly when he saw it and set about tending it as best he could with what he happened to have on hand. "It is, in fact, that bad, Prince Zuko. You cannot let wounds like this fester." Or happen.

"I'll be there soon!"

And he is, staff in hand and having taken the time to put on his more formal Avatar robes. He had been raised to show respect, not just to elders but those who had earned it through great wisdom or deeds. Iroh had achieved both, long since.

He knocks, suddenly happy he'd left Appa to snooze.

Zuko nods eagerly as Iroh likens artistic passion to nurturing a flame. It must be given fuel, carefully looked after, kept nearby to feel its warmth... Zuko understood and the implications of the well-chosen metaphor made him like both his friends even more.

"I understand. Music...— it makes people feel closer together. That's why you always pushed so hard for the music nights on the ship, isn't it? It wasn't just for a lark with the crew."

He's like a year and a half late on the uptake, but better late than never...

Edited 2021-06-07 05:18 (UTC)

"I wouldn't have let it fester, Uncle... It only happened like an hour ago," he says with a roll of his eyes as the man set about to tending the bite.

Zuko winces slightly when Iroh touches it directly, but there's something soothing just about the way Iroh touches him, so familiar, so comforting, so caring, and it puts him in a bit of a wistful mood. When Gokudera and Zuko fought shortly after Zuko's arrival in this world, the bomber did a number on the firebender by not fighting fair, as Zuko saw it then. He jumped out of the shadows and decked him in the face once; and then later on blinded Zuko with his light magic and decked him in the face again... Which wouldn't be so bad were it not for that the mafioso wears a shit ton of tacky jewelry all the time and has fat, ornate, metal rings on nearly every finger, which had dragged deep gashes across Zuko's cheek and jaw and landed him with a right shiner on his good eye. He'd also been hit by a bomb and thrust against a tree by his familiar with great force, which left his neck, back and both his shoulders fucked up. And to gauge exactly how badly he'd been hurt, it was Nurse Azula who tended his wounds immediately that night upon his return home, which she did with a much less tender touch and many harsh words... Such a contrast now to having his uncle here, tending a wound caused by her dragon. Zuko's still furious with her about Ursa, though he'd chewed things over enough to go back to his own apartment, at least. But he can't help but draw an unnerving parallel between these two moments he's had his wounds tended in Avalon. It drew him back, too, to Iroh tending his wounded eye in the weeks after his banishment; and the time Iroh helped tend his wounds after the assassination attempt made by the pirates blowing up his ship; and the time he was sick in Ba Sing Se; any and every training accident, pulled muscle, burning mistakes, Iroh was always there. This time, all just for the love of a tsungi horn... and Azula. The symbolic thought of these two foils in his life draws a silence from him for a spell, letting Iroh do what needs to be done. Zuko gazes off into the distance of the room and not really seeing... There's always so much on his mind.

Edited 2021-06-07 05:39 (UTC)

"We agreed from the start it was best for her not to reveal anything about the future, but — I didn't think she was hiding something like that! And! And! Now I know there was no point to even hiding anything at all, because Gokudera confirmed that we don't remember anything about these places when we go home!" How can Gokudera confirm that? A long story Zuko's too hysterical to tell. "So in the end there was no reason for withholding this knowledge in the first place! I'd been afraid it would affect my future if I knew too much, too early — I was afraid it'd fuck up something about all this time and space travel... But deciding not to know only affected my present! It only fucked up my judgment! I thought that if Azula wasn't trying to fight me, that whatever happened in the future, we must have built a truce — that that was enough to build a truce now... It was in her best interests not to tell me anything, though — of course she agreed not to divulge any details! How could I be so stupid?! Ugh!"

He'd not usually be so crass around Iroh, but hanging out with Gokudera the past half a year has worsened the prince's language, and he's entirely too overwhelmed to hear himself right now. He slaps himself in the face with a groan, keeping his hand pressed over his eye in frustration, both eyes pinched shut because seeing is overstimulating the more worked up he gets. He feels so blind, anyway.

Iroh opened the door to let him in, and bowed respectfully. He straightened and smiled. "You look well. Please, come in. I made some tea for us."

"You finally understand, yes. And that is part of why I always wanted you to join us. Experiences shared, especially those tied to things other than war, can form bonds that will last." He stood and walked over, putting a hand on Zuko's shoulder.

"Some leaders lead people through fear and intimidation. Their people will follow until there is something they fear more. Some through distant respect. Their people follow, but it is a distant sort of thing. But some leaders step off their thrones, Zuko. Some leaders show their people that they are a leader when one is needed, and a friend and person the rest of the time. Those leaders are followed out of more than respect, and something greater than fear." He dropped his hand, and acknowledged the problem with that.

"Though the more people one leads, the harder that becomes. Because there will always be people who see proof of humanity as weakness, and there will never be enough hours in the day to connect with everyone. And for people with a temper, there is always the chance of that attempt blowing up in your face."

But then he offered a warm smile. "But as with all things, Zuko, the secret is balance. You want your foes to fear you, your people to respect you, yes. But you also need people who genuinely see and like you. I do not know," his voice got more grave and serious now, "if I would throw myself in harm's way to save my brother." He did not ever want to have to test that. "I would, however, die to protect you, my boy. And that has nothing at all to do with being a leader."

"And some would say it should not have happened at all," he said, his voice a whisper. A dark whisper, but quiet enough that Zuko could easily have failed to hear it. Or could pretend to have failed to heal it.

His touch remained gentle, despite the anger within.

"Language, Zuko," he admonished. mostly to buy time to get his own emotions under control.

"Aside from if we do or do not remember, there are somethings that should not have been kept secrets. There are reasons, sometimes to keep a large secret. But Azula does not have the experience necessary to make such a decision." Which was the far far politer version of what he actually wanted to say. "It was not hers to make. The question is, now, Zuko, what do we do with what we now know?"

"I don't know! I was the one who told her not to tell me anything, she just listened to me — am I supposed to be mad at her?! She technically didn't do anything... This was all years ago for her! But I'm furious! Of course I'd wanna know that, she should have known I'd want to know that, I just didn't know it was— ugh! I don't know what to do, Uncle!"

His latent tenderness is conflicted by this budding friendship with Azula he'd tenuously built over the past half year... In order to preserve the peace they've designed together, the trust they've redefined, Zuko's come to have blurry eyes trying to differentiate between empathy and forgiveness, and justification and rationalization. Is he seeing things from a new, kinder perspective; or is he being manipulated into not 'abandoning' his sister, as she put it, when he probably should? This question has bothered him before, but now with Aang's big reveal, it's even more seering. His face feels hot and he feels the lump returning to his throat, so he just shakes his head and drags his hands down his face with some pressure, and returns to his pacing.

Zuko heard it... but pretends he didn't, indeed. All he does is glance to his uncle, but if he meets his eye, he'll just look away and sigh. After a moment's silence, he redirects slightly.

"Uncle, I need a salve, by the way. To heal raw skin. Gokudera has an injury, too — sort of," he hesitates, not sure exactly what to say about it. "He, uh— it's a long story, but he has this kind of necklace stuck on him... But it's, uh, more of a collar, like a pet would wear. It's made with some magic technology from another world but it's malfunctioning. Only one person can take it off and he's not ready to confront him about it. But the thing is rubbing his skin raw, and he told me it sends him like— pain signals... It hurts him at random. I saw the skin on his neck, I'm worried about it. Is there some kind of ointment or something he can put under his collar to help heal the skin beneath it?"

Zuko won't pretend to know much about first aid, but he'd told Gokudera he'd ask his uncle, and now seems like a topical ~~haha get it~~ moment to bring it up. Maybe whatever ointment Iroh is using on Zuko's leg would do the trick for Gokudera's neck, or Iroh knows some herbal remedy Zuko can deliver to the bomber... Something... Whatever the case, it's easier to redirect the conversation away from himself and Azula.

He bowed in return, smiling.

"And you, too. And thank you." He stepped in, with a note of satisfaction.

"We can go into the woods and see what plants we can find for making salves. And tea. But perhaps f there are any Water Benders here with healing magic, that would be swifter and would save him much pain. They might also have a safe way to remove it, as water can get into most things with relative ease."

He is aware you are changing the subject.

He walked around the table to rest a hand n the boy's shoulder. "What we will do now, we will figure out together. We should speak to the Avatar and see what he knows. We will try to see if any others have returned home and then here again to see if the experience is universal. We will learn, and from there, decide."

And he is adding this to his mental list for if and when he encounters Azula himself.

He closed the door behind Aang. He led him to where the Pai Sho game was set up. "Please, sit. I shall get the tea."

"I don't think it works like that. It's gotta be removed by this one particular person. It's... a long story... And emotional... So I don't think he wants Katara giving him a neck rub on the regular, Uncle." Zuko sighs. Katara'd already healed Gokudera once before when he shot himself in the foot with an arrow; he's not sure he can call on her to heal the kid daily with this dang collar he can't take off. "But— I have to say... I'm nervous to just go searching the woods for herbal remedies with you. I don't wanna make Gokudera a salve out of some alien maka'ole berry because you thought it looked like a bacui berry or something. He's having a hard enough time as it is without being poisoned by our good intentions."

"I have hardly ever poisoned anyone with the wrong herb," he grumbled. "But who would not want a healer to manage them regularly?" Some people make no sense.

"Yeah, just yourself," Zuko mutters under his breath, thinking back to how scared he was that day in the woods when Iroh decided to take a risk for the love of some delectable tea... He may have acted irritated — and he was! — but the truth was he was frightened, and will never forget that time. They were lucky to find that kind nurse and her mother when they did.

"I know Gokudera. He's very self-sufficient. I think if he had to get healed by someone regularly, especially for something small like that — he'd feel like a burden... He's always had to take care of himself, ever since he was a little kid. But— I don't want him to be in any extra pain until Yamamoto can take that collar off. At least if we can soothe the skin underneath the leather, where it's rubbing him raw... That's something."

Zuko obviously cares a lot about his friend, and it seems every time he comes up, he's dropping some new insight to the mafioso's character that makes their friendship make even more sense, foils to each other almost as much as they are kindred spirits.

Inbox for Sn: Pai Sho - Avalon

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