Disclaimer: Note to the creators: my birthdays coming up. Hint hint. ;p

Iroh's Metamorphosis

This was terrible. Iroh's gaze moved down to his nephew's quivering form underneath the blankets, sighed and continued to sponge him, ignoring all the water spilt on the ground. His thirst was the first phase. It was about to get much worse; he still had to face the dreams. He remembered his own metamorphosis; he remembered how painful it was, and he remembered that it took place right here in Ba Sing Se.

General Iroh smiled as the flaming cannonballs flew towards the gigantic wall looming over him. He, the dragon of the west, would be the one to conquer the great earth kingdom stronghold of Ba Sing Se. It was his proudest moment. He was conquering a city, alongside his son, and when he got home, his wife was waiting for him and he was soon to be firelord. Life didn't get much better than this.

Zuko was still, unmoving, calm and peaceful. Iroh got worried. This was unnatural. At this point he should be tossing and turning, and trying to decide what was best for him. Iroh wished he could help him, tell him to listen to the right voice. He didn't realize that his was the voice leading him to the right part.

Zuko mumbled in his sleep, then started turning around, making noises of great despair and hopelessness. Satisfied that the metamorphosis was going right, Iroh rested his eyes for a bit, wincing every time Zuko gasped or wailed.

He knew how difficult his nephew's decision was. He had to make a very similar choice long, long ago. But it was a good thing. It had changed him for the better; made him a stronger and better man. Iroh smiled down at his nephew, "And the same is happening to you, my prince".

The last fireball blew through the air, and met with the wall with a deafening boom, followed by the sound of earth tumbling to the floor. Good… one wall down, two to go.

Every thing was going according to plan, Iroh thought as he heard his men shout with exhilaration, and, encouraged by the fall of the first wall, they charged forward and began "hammering away" at the second.

"Mom, No!" Zuko shouted in his sleep. Iroh sighed. That child has been through so much. He really didn't deserve all this. The word was such a cruel and unfair place.

Iroh had his head bowed down, eyes almost closed. Yes, yes, it was all natural; he was getting those painful dreams that reminded you of your past… and foretold your future. Hopefully, when he would be done with this, he would make the right decisions. It would be nice if Zuko finally understood what was good for him, and maybe he could make reasonable decisions for once.

He remembered it so clearly. The soldier coming into his tent with a panicked look on his face, and his head bowed down in sorrow.

"General Iroh, sir. I'm afraid I have terrible news."

Iroh's brow furrowed in concern. Had someone been taken prisoner? Did the opposing general have an overly clever trick up his sleeve? No. None of those things could give a soldier a look of such utter despair; of such raw sorrow. It had to be something much, much worse.

The general's eyes which were usually filled with joy and happiness lost their twinkle as they widened with realization, and then narrowed with anger and pain.

"What has happened to Lu Ten?" He said this in a low, deadly whisper. "What has happened to my son?!" he demanded. even though he already knew the answer.

"I'm sorry sir," the messenger said, head bowed down.

"Who did it?" the furious man demanded.

"It was an enemy archer. We captured him as soon as he-" The messenger caught himself just in time. "did the deed"

"Bring him to me." Iroh said. He was seething now. That archer was not going to breathe for much longer.

The messengers eyes widened with fear, but he didn't say anything but a feeble "yes, sir" as he went to fetch the man in question.

He was stirring. Best make the boy some tea, tea always made him feel better!

As Zuko slowly got up, Iroh supported him as he made his nephew drink the tea.

"You should know this is not a natural sickness. But that shouldn't stop you from enjoying tea!" Iroh said in a voice a bit more cheerful than he felt.

"What?" Zuko asked in a disoriented voice. "What's happening?"

"Your critical decision, what you did beneath that lake? It was in such conflict with your image of yourself that you are now at war within your own mind and body." Iroh said gavely, giving Zuko a second sip of the tea

"What's that mean?" Zuko asked before collapsing in a fit of coughing.

"You're going through a metamorphosis, my nephew. It will not be a pleasant experience, but when you come out of it, you will be the beautiful Prince you were always meant to be."

Iroh was very proud of what he did that night, just as he was proud of his nephew. They had both chosen the right thing to do, and in the end, they would both reap their rewards. He had gotten his.

Iroh's blood was boiling. The man before him was nothing but a simpering coward. How could HE have killed a prince? He didn't even have the dignity to stand upright and proud after his act, let alone be a man and take his punishment looking it in the eye. No, instead he chose to grovel and beg at Iroh's feet. He hated it when people did that.

"Aaargh!" Zuko jolted upright from the mattress he was sleeping on. Thank Agni, it was just a dream. He fingered his scar… just a dream.

Iroh winced. As Zuko lay back down, he continued to mop his forehead thinking about the way he had touched his scar. So he was going to get the option to get it healed? That was intresting. Though the real question is, which side would offer that healing power? Iroh remembered he water tribe girl. For the first time that day, he smiled.

"Stand peasant" Iroh demanded with all the superiority he could muster in his voice whilst he was crying, bleeding, inside.

"Please sir, I beg your mercy. Please do not kill me-"

"I said STAND!" He did.

"Sir, I have a wife and a family. I have a small son, and he needs food and clothes and an education. He thinks of me as a hero, fighting in the war. Please sir, spare me." The archer pleaded.

"You didn't care much about my son, why should I care for yours?" Iroh was beyond reasoning now. He had seen this trait in his father and brother, but never thought that he would have it in him too.

"I shall leave a message for your son, telling him you died a coward, begging for mercy. Goodbye." And with that, Iroh shot a blast of fire at the crying man. His pleading shouts meant nothing to him as the fire struck him in the arm, scarring him.

He looked down coldly at the man groveling below him. He was whimpering in fear, and Iroh, the proud, malicious, all powerful lord, was about to relieve him of his pain. And his life.

What had he become? He was becoming what he hated and feared most: his brother. He remembered how Ozai tormented him when they were younger. How painful it was for him to watch his younger brother shoot fire at the young animals in the garden, calling it "target practice". They were at his mercy completely. Just like the man before him.

And suddenly, he realized, he couldn't do it. He couldn't strike down this man, he had a family too. He was just a mere victim of the propaganda of war, looking for a bit of glory. It wasn't his fault.

Iroh looked down at Zuko again. He had stopped sweating. Good, that meant his metamorphosis was almost over. He couldn't wait until his nephew let go of his painful past and start anew, afresh.

"Go. Just go," Iroh whispered weakly. "Leave me."

Shocked at hearing of his release, the man rattled on about his undying gratitude, until some flames licked his feet, and encouraged by these, he ran out of the tent a free man.

"I don't feel so good," was the last thing the general said before his vision clouded up and he passed out.

XXX

A/N: Like it? Love it? Hate it? Read and review!!