"In all my years of living, Zuko, I have met many strange and wonderful people. But your friends are, by far, the most extraordinary group I have ever had the fortune of meeting. Take Toph, for example. I admit that when I first saw her, I was concerned; all I saw was a little blind girl lost and alone. But she quickly dispelled that illusion for me—and what an illusion it was! I pity whatever force or person or object that places itself as an obstacle in her path. She helped me see through what I viewed as an affliction to the raw strength that lies just out of sight."

The funeral was in three days, perhaps four. He had lost count of the hours since he'd walked, wordlessly, to his bed, his limbs so heavy that his feet dragged on the ground with each step and the dragon had to hold onto his shoulder for support. When he reached his chambers, he closed all windows and doors, took his royal headpiece out of his hair knot, and dropped it to the ground. He climbed into his bed and slept until he woke up, then he used all of his strength to turn over and slept again.

He didn't cry, which felt wrong. He hadn't cried at all, not when someone came to confirm funeral arrangements, or when guards nervously announced the arrival of dignitaries come to pay their respects, or even when he was alone.

Well, he wasn't ever exactly alone. The dragon stayed in the bed with him, curled up by his side. Every once in a while, Zuko could feel the dragon run back and forth under the sheets. Somebody—Aang, maybe—had brought him a dish of water and a plate of fire flakes. Occasionally the dragon would climb off the bed to munch on the flakes, then yank on the bedsheets with his teeth, as if trying to get Zuko out of bed. It didn't work. Zuko was aware of all of this, but it happened completely outside of him; he had as much agency in the world during this time as a piece of furniture, and the world moved on as if it were so.

At some point, the doors opened, and he heard the plopping sounds of bare feet against the floor. The dragon hissed at the intruder, but Zuko lay still, hoping they would just leave.

"I know you're awake," Toph said.

The bed shifted as the earthbender jumped on the other side. The dragon hissed again, but Toph just laughed. "This little guy sounds like a cat," she said. "Does he have a name yet?"

Zuko shook his head. Toph kicked her feet along the side of the bed as the dragon inched his way closer to her, warming up to her presence.

"Look, I'm not very good with the whole 'cheering people up' thing," she said finally. "I just wanted you to know, your uncle was a great guy. I remember when I first met him. Now, that guy could cheer a person up. He always knew exactly the right thing to say to me when I needed to feel better. Although, I didn't get some of his metaphors and proverbs. I guess I never will, now."

She reached out and pet the dragon's head. He squeaked, but when Toph removed her hand he drew in closer. She stroked his body from head to tail.

"I don't have to see you to know you're cute," she said. She lifted him up into the air in a sudden motion, and he wriggled desperately in her grasp. "Can he fly yet?"

"No," Zuko said.

"So you can talk!"

Zuko sighed and sat up. Just the movement felt like carrying an entire Fire Navy warship on his shoulders. "Thanks for coming, Toph, really, but I can't function right now." He nodded toward the dragon, forgetting the fact that Toph couldn't see him. "Will you…will you take him with you? He needs sunlight, and meat, and…"

Toph dropped the dragon onto the bed. He scurried to Zuko as if afraid she might change her mind. "Seems to me that's something you should do."

"Please?"

She sighed, then stood up. "When Aang wanted to give up earthbending, I told him to suck it up and face his problems head-on. I know you're grieving, but you can't just pass all your jobs onto everyone else. Believe me, shutting yourself away won't solve anything. If he needs to go outside, you need to take him."

Face your problems, Zuko.

But he couldn't yet. He just couldn't.

Zuko called out to her before she reached the door. "Hey. I think you learned more from Uncle's parables than you realize."

She smiled. "Thanks. So did you."

"Speaking of deceiving appearances, your friend Sokka is truly gifted. I don't mean in a sort of genius way, though I believe he is smarter than anyone thinks, including himself. No, his gift lies in his creativity and profound sense of duty. If you recall, it was he who tried to stand between us—a fully equipped Fire Navy vessel and crew, not to mention Fire Nation royalty—and his village. Alone! Who does that? The only one among your group who I believe can make a better leader than him, is you."

Sometime after Toph left—an hour, a day, it didn't matter—the door opened to his room again. Sokka stepped inside.

"Um, hey, buddy. Just came to check up on you. They say you haven't left your bed in a few days…"

The dragon peeked his head out from under the covers to snarl at Sokka. Oblivious to the warning, Sokka ran to the bed and picked the dragon up.

"Oh, wow, look at this little guy! I can't believe it's a real live OW-OW-OW—!"

He dropped the dragon back onto the bed and sucked the spot on his hand where he'd been bitten. The dragon let out a satisfied growl. "Okay, so, teeth already grown in, got it. Um, dragons aren't venomous, right? Zuko?"

A smile managed to touch Zuko's lips for the first time in days, but it quickly faded as reality set back in like smoke in a wildfire. Sokka sat down on the bed, giving the dragon a wide berth this time.

"I never told you this," Sokka said, "but your uncle and I had a moment a couple years ago."

Zuko sat up at that. "Really?"

"Uh-huh. It was the anniversary of Mom's death, and we were still in Ba Sing Se. Katara and I, well, we spend most of that day away from eachother, so we can deal with it our own ways, and then we'll share happy or funny stories about her at dinner so we can end the day on a good note. Anyway, I was off by myself, in a pretty dark place, when I came to this old tree on a hill on the outskirts of the city. I ran into your uncle there. He looked like he was in the middle of something, but when he saw me, he waved me over."

Sokka inched a little closer to the dragon. The creature protested with a hiss, but he didn't strike. Zuko pet his snout to calm him down.

"He was having a picnic under the tree. There was a picture of his son…"

"Lu Ten," Zuko said.

"Yeah. I didn't know he lost a son until then." Sokka shook his head. "When Mom died, I hated the Fire Nation, in a way I didn't know I was capable of doing. For a long time, I thought every single person from the Fire Nation was evil. I knew, objectively, that was wrong; even Katara understood that there are good and bad people in every nation, and she was even closer to Mom than I was. But it didn't matter."

As if realizing he was talking to his friend, the Fire Lord, Sokka cleared his throat and looked away. "I got over it, of course. But even when I accepted that there were good people from the Fire Nation, I didn't really stop to think how good until I got to know your uncle. He really showed me how completely wrong I was. And when I learned about his son, and how he never had the same hatred for the Earth Kingdom even after he was killed, I felt ashamed, like I had to apologize to him, personally, for ever believing he could be something evil. So I did. I got down on my hands and knees and begged his forgiveness. I'll never forget what he said to me next."

"Let me guess: he forgave you?"

Sokka shook his head. "He said, 'My son was a casualty of war and the foolishness of old men. Your mother was an innocent, murdered by a nation that had long-since lost its way. A nation that I led. It is I who should be asking forgiveness from you. Violence is a cycle, one that needs hatred to keep going. Peace stops the cycle of violence in the world. But forgiveness stops the cycle of violence in ourselves.'"

Sokka had put on the best impression of Iroh that he could, but his voice just sounded like he was gargling rocks. For the second time, Zuko smiled. "That does sound like him."

Sokka discreetly wiped his eyes. "Yeah, well, when we finished, uh, talking, he said one other thing. He said I reminded him of his son, in some ways. That he wished we could have met. I felt really proud of that—I still do. So I know how proud of him you must be. If he could make me feel like that after one conversation, I can only imagine what living with him every day must have felt like."

Zuko nodded as Sokka finished his story. "Thank you for telling me that."

Sokka put a supportive hand on Zuko's shoulder. The dragon jumped at his arm and clamped down with his claws, wrapping around Sokka's arm like a snake catching its prey. Sokka jumped off the bed, waving his arm up and down. "Get-him-off-get-him-off-get-him-off!"

Zuko stood on wobbly feet, grabbed Sokka's arm mid-swing, and gently squeezed the dragon's sides. The dragon unlatched from Sokka and unwrapped his body. "Sorry about that," Zuko said.

"No problem," Sokka said with blurry eyes and a squeaky voice. "No problem at all. Barely felt it." He tucked his arm behind his back and cleared his throat. "Does he have a name yet?"

He hadn't been able to think of a decent name. He hadn't particularly tried.

"We can help you out with that. I once had a pet koala-otter named Fred, and—"

Zuko held up a hand to stop him. "That's okay. I feel like that's something I should do alone."

"All right. But, hey, you don't have to be in here and grieve alone. At least get a shave, okay?"

Surprised, Zuko felt his face and, sure enough, he felt where hair had grown out unmanaged. "I will. I'm not there yet, but I will. Thanks, Sokka."

"Any time. Now, I'm just gonna go…find some bandages."

"You are lucky to have someone like Katara in your life. Not just because she can fight, or because she can heal, but because she chooses to heal when she can fight. That takes a kind of strength too few people have. Take that with what she has lost, and I believe she may well be the strongest person I have ever met. The Avatar will learn much from her, and I believe you will, too."

It was the day of the funeral. He had miraculously summoned the strength to get out of bed long enough to shave and comb his hair, but when he returned to his room he sat on the bed and slumped over. The dragon hopped onto his back and climbed up to his shoulder. Zuko rubbed his chin with his finger.

"I'm sorry you had to come into the world amid all this sadness," he said. "There's a lot more to it than that. It's just really hard to see right now."

His bedroom door opened. Katara peeked in, then stepped through. She wore a traditional Fire Nation mourning dress, a deeply red skirt with dark purple hem along the edges, symbolizing a sunset. As always, she wore her mother's necklace around her neck, the only item that stood out as distinctly Water Tribe.

"You're not dressed?" She asked.

"I'm getting to it. I just need more time."

"The funeral's in three hours."

Zuko looked up at the window, which was still covered in a curtain. "Already?"

Katara sat next to him on the bed. Unlike with everyone else, the dragon didn't hiss or bite at her. Instead, he hopped off Zuko's shoulder and immediately climbed into her lap. She lifted her arms and made a strained expression.

"I think he likes you," Zuko said.

"Oh, good," Katara said, keeping her hands off the dragon. "I…like him too. He's like a…walrus-eel back home. Yes, an adorable, slithery, winged walrus-eel." She hesitantly lowered her arms and touched the dragon's body. He made a happy chirping noise, which seemed to help her relax. "Are you sure you're okay to go?"

Zuko looked away. "No. I feel…it's ridiculous, but…"

"Like it'll be official? That by acknowledging he's gone with a service, he really will be?"

He looked back at her. She was freely stroking the dragon's back now, but her attention was far away.

"Can I ask…how did you handle it? When your mother…when she was gone?"

Katara's hand stopped. She took a deep breath. "Well…" her voice cracked and she cleared her throat. "The circumstances were very different, but…I was a lot like you, at first. I felt so…exhausted. Like the slightest movements and mental exertions were enough to put me in bed forever. When it was time for her funeral, Sokka and Dad had to pull me up and do my hair. I had lopsided pigtails for weeks because of that. Anyway, it wasn't easy getting there. I just knew it was never going to get any easier, so I made myself do it. Again and again, each day, I got out of bed, fixed my hair, went outside, did whatever chores the village needed, and went home. I don't know when it got to the point where I could say I felt better…but it did."

Zuko sighed. "Is it bad that I was hoping there'd be some special waterbending cure for this?"

"If there were, I'd use it. I didn't know your uncle very well, but he always seemed to light up the room anywhere he went. As hard as it is, I know he'd want you to get up and face the day, Zuko."

"Yeah. I know. Hey, where's Aang? He's the only one who hasn't tried to cheer me up yet."

"He's getting ready. I think he wants to say something at the funeral."

It felt like it took every bit of energy he had, but Zuko stood up. "I guess I'd better get ready, then."

He took the dragon from Katara, and he made his way up to Zuko's shoulder. When they exited his bedroom, Sokka, Toph, and Momo were all there, waiting for him. Momo shrieked when he saw the dragon on Zuko's shoulder and flew off down the hall; their laughter at the incident pushed all of the negativity of the day away, if only for a moment, and Zuko felt like he could laugh with them.

"There are many lessons in life, Zuko. You have already learned more than most men will in a lifetime. Some are easy, like the basics of firebending. Some are much harder to learn. Life can be a cruel teacher. But you are not the only student learning these lessons. You have your friends. You have the Avatar, who is wise well beyond his years-and he has you. You have been my student, but you have also been my teacher, and I have learned so much from you. Never forget that you are both a teacher and a student in life, Zuko. Never presume to elevate yourself above the lowliest among your people, nor to diminish yourself among the greatest; one day, you'll understand that there's no such thing as either. And always remember, I will always remain by your side, even if it is in another lifetime. I eagerly look forward to learning more from you."

He was dressed. His feet carried him automatically to the Capitol square, where his uncle rested in a casket on an ornately arranged pyre. He passed, on foot, crowds of people, some who had come to see the spectacle of a royal funeral, but most people who, in some way, Iroh had touched. None of them could comprehend the extent to which they owed him their lives. Or the extent to which he owed him his own. The crowds gave way to dozens and dozens of rows of seats, wood and metal chairs that were carved for the occasion, and when they were full, Toph created makeshift seats using her earth bending.

Aang was there, at the steps leading to the funeral pyre, wearing the draping robes of an airbender, but the robes were clasped together with a Fire Nation insignia at his front. His friends sat in the front of the crowd, not a dry eye among them; even Toph, who for the first time since Zuko had met her was dressed in formal clothes, had to wipe tears from her face. Aang embraced Zuko in a supportive gesture that defied royal etiquette but helped Zuko's spirit. The dragon stayed on his shoulder, unwilling to let go even when Zuko tried to leave him behind. Passersby gawked at the creature like something from a fairy tale.

The flag of the Fire Nation was draped over the casket's surface.

At Zuko's arrival, the Fire Nation anthem played, sonorous and triumphant. This would not be a day of loss. No, they were there to celebrate the life of the man who would have been their leader.

When the anthem finished, Zuko spoke.

"The man resting here means more to me than words can express, but I owe it to him to try. He had two loves in life: making tea and playing pai sho. I'm afraid I possess no great skill in either."

A sympathetic chuckle moved through the crowd. Zuko went on:

"He also loved his country and its people. He loved what we could offer the world besides war and suffering. He loved the world, too; he saw beauty in the filthiest alley, riches in the poorest village, and honor in the lowest men. He experienced loss, like the one we experience today, and he learned; it was the hardest lesson one can be taught, but he learned. And he strove to teach us all every day. For some of us, it was how to play the tsungi horn. For others, it was how to be a man, and to find what it is we really want. Whatever lessons he had to teach us, we were so, so lucky to have a teacher as wise, and kind, and patient, as him."

Unable to speak anymore, Zuko stepped back, afraid that the Fire Nation would see their leader break down if he tried to continue. Aang stepped up.

"Life is full of illusions," Aang said, his soft voice carrying well in the quiet night. "Illusions cloud our vision and make the real world harder to see. The greatest illusion, and the hardest to learn how to break, is separation. Iroh is the only person I have ever known who could see past that illusion with ease. He didn't see us as nations or elements; to him, we were all the same people, locked in a struggle within ourselves. He also knew that death was a part of that illusion, perhaps the greatest part. It's the part that is hardest for us, but we must remember that death and life are the same, you and I are the same, and the spirit world and the physical world are the same. There has never been a time when Iroh has not existed, and there will never be a time when he does not exist. Whether his spirit returns to us in another form or he moves on to another place, we can take comfort knowing that what made him such a great man is carried within us all at all times, if only we allow ourselves to see it."

As he finished with tears running down his face, Aang looked to Zuko, and they acknowledged eachother with a nod. Zuko faced the casket.

"Take care of him, Cousin."

He and Aang took a deep breath together. Zuko pulled into that breath all of the happy memories with his uncle, all the tired moments when he had given up, all the love he had, love of people, love of family, love of life; the beat of his heart and the blood in his veins, all the life his uncle dearly loved and that he, too, loved, became fire.

The heat was almost enough to throw him back. Not since Sozin's Comet did he feel such intense power behind his own firebending. He barely noticed Aang firebending next to him, or the Sages as they, too, contributed their fire. From the corner of his eye, he saw someone at the edge of the crowd turn and leave.

Was that…? No. Azula wouldn't want to be here anyway.

The dragon climbed down Zuko's outstretched arm and looked curiously at the stream of fire coming from his hand, the heat apparently not bothering him at all. His gaze followed the fire to the casket, and his back curled up, wings outstretched, like a spring tightening. He struck forward, mouth open, but no fire came out.

"Breathe," Zuko said to the dragon. "Firebending comes from the breath, not the muscles." The dragon turned on his arm, listening. He took a deep, measured breath to show the dragon what he meant. The dragon cocked his head, then turned back to the pyre. Zuko watched his slim body expand and retract as he took in deep gulps of air. With one last determined lunge forward, the dragon added its own small, steady stream of fire to the one blasting from Zuko's fist. He felt the heat from the dragon's body against his bare skin, and had it gone on for too long, he might even have been injured. But the dragon was still small and could only put out so much before his flame turned to smoke.

"You got it," Zuko said. "You did great. Thank you. For everything."

The dragon burped a cloud of smoke into the air as they continued to burn.

She could never be sure when exactly she made the decision to leave, and, indeed, Azula certainly couldn't articulate why. Even if Iroh hadn't lied to her—it was hard to believe the old fuddy-duddy capable of lying, but she knew all about the art of deception—the thought of what she was doing, where she was going, was ludicrous. And yet, as the hours turned to days and the days into weeks, as her feet left dry land to stow away on a supply ship and then returned to dry land again, she still moved forward, carrying the scrolls her uncle had left her.

This is ridiculous. You're a princess of the Fire Nation, not some Earth Kingdom peasant. You belong in the palace. Even if…even if the idea might have some merit.

She shook her head. Passersby wisely gave the young woman muttering to herself a wide berth. She had gotten better in the years since her mother betrayed her and cost her the throne—she refused to call it a "breakdown" like everyone else; princesses didn't have breakdowns—but there were still knives in the dark she had to be on the alert for. Especially here, in the Upper Ring of Ba Sing Se, the city she, and not her dearly departed uncle, had conquered. Despite her history with the city, however, nobody seemed to recognize her. The Earth King was probably the only one who would, and he stayed glued to his throne. She could probably waltz right into the palace and conquer the Earth Kingdom again, if she wanted.

Good thing she was here for something else.

She found the building she was looking for, a green-and-golden shop with a green shale roof and a sign with a green dragon wrapping around the words "The Jasmine Dragon." The building was nestled in a courtyard with a large, square fountain centered in the front. A wooden sign hung on the front door that read Under New Management.

"You're too late, sadly," said a man behind her. She jumped and nearly grabbed his neck, but he jumped too and backed away.

"Do you always sneak up on people?" Azula asked. "Who sent you? The Dai Li? My uncle? I knew this was a trap, I knew he—"

The man waved his hands in the air. He was dressed in fine clothes—fine for the Earth Kingdom, anyway—denoting his status as a resident of the Upper Ring. "No, no, nobody sent me! I was just saying the place is closed down."

"I can see that, thanks." She relaxed a bit, thankful that she hadn't used her firebending. Exposure this far into enemy territory could be fatal.

"Shame, too. The old owner was such a nice guy. I wonder who'll take it over now?" The man dipped his head and continued on to whatever hole he lived in.

Azula pulled out the scrolls her uncle gave her. Deeds, titles, proofs of ownership, licenses to sell tea in the city walls. She would need to take a new name, but that wouldn't be especially difficult in a city full of refugees.

Wrapped in one of the scrolls was a key. She took it out and used it to unlock the door. A thin layer of dust had accumulated on the floor of the shop, but the furniture was high-quality wood, with smooth, bright green marble tabletops that would cost a fortune to make. Well, if her uncle shamed their entire lineage by serving tea to peasants, at least he did it in style.

She lit a candle with her fingertips and held it up in front of her. There was a note on the front counter. She put the candle down where she could read it.

My dear niece,

If you are reading this, then you have decided to come here, and I have likely moved on to the next great adventure. I am sure you have your reasons for coming, but in case we did not get to have as thorough a conversation as I hope, I would like to explain a few things.

This shop is yours, to do with as you see fit. There are no strings attached, no traps, no malicious intentions. What use do I have of such things, now that I am (or will soon be) gone? Whether you keep the shop, or burn it, or sell it, or give it away, is entirely up to you.

Tea has many soothing properties. It has helped calm my mind on days when it was most turbulent. There is nothing quite like the steam of a fresh brew for a headache, or on a cold night. The routine of running a shop also brings its own relaxation, in a way. If you are wondering why I left this to you and not your brother, the answer is simple: he will be too busy in his role as Fire Lord to maintain a shop thousands of miles away. You will make the most use of it.

Whatever you decide to do with this shop, whatever road you take in life, above all else, I hope you will find happiness and contentment.

I hope you take the time to enjoy many cups of tea in your life.

Love, your proud uncle.

P. S.: There is a list of recipes in the back that you might find useful, if you so desire.

She re-read the note several times before carefully folding it and putting it into her pocket. She picked up the candle and took it to the back, where she could smell the mountains of tea leaves her uncle kept in supply. Sure enough, nailed to the wall was a list of recipes and brewing times, measurements and sweeteners, descriptions of flowers and the characteristics that distinguished them from poison. That last bit could be useful in the future.

She extinguished the candle and exited the shop. The door clicked shut behind her. So, this was to be all hers, was it? She, once heir apparent to the throne, was to don an apron and serve hot leaf juice to rich old men, hire a bunch of serving staff to do her bidding, in the most prestigious area in the Earth Kingdom…as opposed to what?

She spotted a sign resting on the window. Welcome to the Jasmine Dragon: The best tea in Ba Sing Se! it read.

She scoffed. "Oh, Uncle. You were such a small thinker. That always was your downfall." It was embarrassing, really.

She looked up and down the street for passersby. Satisfied that she was alone, she made a small blowtorch with her finger and wrote with the fire onto the sign. When she was done, she stepped back and read it again.

Welcome to the Jasmine Dragon: The best tea in the world!

"There," she said. "That's better."

When the ceremony was over and the people had all returned home, Zuko and Aang remained in the square. The pyre had been reduced to smoldering ashes and blackened metal for street sweepers to clean up over the next day or two. Zuko held a jade urn that contained all that remained of his uncle's physical form, which he would place in the royal tomb far beneath the palace, with all of their ancestors, next to a pai sho board.

"You holding up okay?" Aang asked.

Zuko nodded. "Yeah. It hurts, but I think I can handle it now."

The dragon wrapped around his neck made a gentle purr.

"He's definitely a lot smaller than Roku's dragon," Aang said. "Have you thought of a name for him yet?"

Zuko gently scratched the dragon's chin. "Druk."

"Nice name!"

They walked in silence for a time, but Zuko was glad for the chance to reflect. He felt like he should have said so much more at the eulogy—but all the words in the world would never be enough to encapsulate the amazing life he held in his hands. Memories would have to do.

"Roku told me something else about dragons," Aang said. "He said that someone who had achieved the peak of wisdom was reborn one last time as a dragon."

"Really?"

"Well, that was what people believed back then, anyway."

Zuko gently petted Druk's head. The dragon yawned contentedly against Zuko's neck.

"Makes sense," Zuko said.

They continued along the path to the palace.

Bi Nang did not expect Iroh to actually put in a word for him at the palace, but when a retinue of guards showed up to inform him he'd been summoned by the Fire Lord personally, he realized his error.

He had no formal wear and no place to bathe. When he arrived, some servants quickly wiped him off with wet, hot towels and tried to make him as presentable as possible, but they had no solution for his tattered shirt or bare feet. Oh, well. Fire Lord Zuko probably wouldn't banish him for looking dirty, although his predecessor would have.

The throne room was vast and dark, save for the far end where the Fire Lord sat, veiled in the flames. The entrance was relatively cool, but Bi Nang could feel the temperature rise as he drew closer. He knew not to come any closer than fifty paces, so when he reached that distance he stopped and knelt. At this distance, he could see the young Fire Lord's features much more clearly. Aside from the grisly scar on his eye, he had a gentle countenance to him that was a welcome, if not exactly regal, distinguishment from his father.

Something stirred on Zuko's shoulder, and Bi Nang realized an animal was sitting there, watching him. Some kind of monkey-snake?

"Thank you for coming," the Fire Lord said, as though Bi Nang had a choice in the matter.

"Uh, of course, Fire Lord."

"You met my uncle?"

Bi Nang smiled, despite himself. "I did, Fire Lord. It was a meeting I won't easily forget. How is he faring?"

The resulting silence lasted for so long that Bi Nang risked breaching etiquette and looked up to see if the Fire Lord was still there. He was, and he looked surprised. Finally, he spoke.

"He passed away several days ago. You didn't see the funeral?"

Bi Nang was taken aback. Was that what that noise from the square was?

"Er, no, Fire Lord. I don't get mail—no home, you see. Wow, he seemed fine when we met; fine enough to kick my butt, at least…"

"Wait. You fought my uncle?"

Ooh, good job, old man, just tell the Fire Lord you fought a member of the royal family.

"Well, it wasn't so much a fight as it was him teaching me a lesson, really."

It was then that Zuko did something Bi Nang never expected: he laughed. The fires around him shuddered as if they, too, were laughing, and his voice echoed throughout the throne room. When he finished, Zuko stood and the flames parted to let him pass through. He stepped down off his platform. Bi Nang dipped his head lower, but the Fire Lord put a hand on his shoulder and bid him stand. That's when he saw the creature on Zuko's shoulder. It was definitely not a monkey-snake.

"Yes, that was my uncle, all right. I once saw him teach a thief how to fight better—after he had tried to rob us. Oh, this is Druk."

Bi Nang blinked. How on Earth was he supposed to react to this, the most powerful human being in the nation acting like an old pal? "I, um…"

"In fact," Zuko said, "his last request was for me to give you a helping hand."

"Wha—really?"

"Yes. Tell me, Bi Nang, do you like pai sho? I have a lot of stories about Uncle I could tell you…"

Zuko led him out of the throne room, the dragon growling happily on his shoulder.

The End

Notes:

As I mentioned at the end of my previous story, my grandfather died last February. Like Iroh is to Zuko, my grandfather was very special to me; I did not always appreciate him like I should have, and many men would have run out of patience with me long, long ago. But he taught me what being a man really means, and despite my initial reluctance to learn, he taught me many important lessons about life when other, lesser men in my life would try to teach me otherwise. As I grew older, I eventually came to my senses and realized how lucky I am, and how lucky the world is, to have had someone like him.

This got me thinking constantly about death, and how we have to continue on even when the people with the greatest impact on our lives must go. I picked this fandom to explore these thoughts because Uncle Iroh is one of the most beloved characters in all of fiction, an inspiration so rarely seen (on screen or in real life) and so important to so many (including myself) that no other character could possibly do. I also prefer to write canon-compliant stories, insomuch as it's possible, and since we know Iroh does pass away at some point between Airbender and Korra, this seemed the best vehicle to tell this story.

I threw in a few references while I was at it. Zuko's line to Druk, "firebending comes from the breath," was word-for-word what Iroh says to Zuko in the beginning of the series. The line in Aang's eulogy, "there has never been a time when Iroh did not exist, and there will never come a time when he ceases to exist," comes from the Bhagavad Gita. Iroh's instructions to Zuko about going slow, watching money, and watching out for long-haired girls were the last bits of advice my grandfather gave me the last time I spoke to him. The description of the Pai Sho board comes from the official rules of the mobile game released years ago.