Thanks for all your reviews, here's a little more.
Chapter Two: Come Marching Home
For Jac
"Father, please don't go," my son begged me. To him, his father was not the heir to the throne or the greatest general the world had ever known. To him, I had no duty but to sit under our tree and read him a story, feeling his small body cuddled against me. And I wished it were true.
"I have to go, my son. Your grandfather, the Fire Lord has put me in charge of a great battle to bring light and knowledge to the world," I whispered, relishing his tiny weight. He was so small and so dear to me.
"I want to go with you, if you have to leave," Lu-Ten begged, looking up at me with those big amber eyes of his, eyes that had gotten me to spend a good deal of money on treats he really did not need. "I want to be a great soldier like you."
"My little soldier boy," I smiled. "Someday, you will go into battle with me. But not today. Now, no tears. They give me allergies and make me tear up too," I told him, feeling my "allergies" start to act up.
"But you will come back soon, right? You promise you'll come back for my birthday?" Lu-Ten asked, as he cuddled closer to me.
I smiled. "I promise you, I will always be there on your birthday. No matter what. Now…I have to leave." I wished I could stay. Why did Father have to constantly send me off to war? Ozai was allowed to stay home with his infant son Zuko!
"Before you go, can you sing me our song? Please?" Lu-Ten begged.
I smiled. I had written it for my son on the day he was born. Every night when I was home, I would sing it to him. Through his toddler tantrums, I had sung it to him. Even after I had been forced to discipline him, we always ended the day on this song. When he had trouble with his training, he would hum it to give him strength. "Of course. But…I can't remember it. Can you start it for me?" I teased.
"Don't be silly. Of course you know it. Leaves from the vine, falling so slow," he began in his child-like trill.
"Like fragile little tiny shells, drifting in the foam." I continued, blending our voices together.
"Little soldier boy…come marching home, brave soldier boy comes marching home," we sang together, as the wind whipped through our hair and the sun set over the horizon. I learned down and kissed his forehead.
"And I always will. Come your birthday, we will be together," I whispered.
Today is my son's birthday. My great-nephew and I spent the day together. It was a wonderful day-from the personal diary of General Iroh, uncle to the Fire Lord