#he lucked out honestly | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

skyward-floored · 7 months

Text

Whumptober Day 3: “Make it stop” (solitary confinement)

Was busy all morning but here it is! Wild having a pretty awful time of it, and fun with magic songs and instruments.

No specific warnings, apart from its whumptober, so expect pain.

Read on ao3

————————————————————

“WILD!”

Time’s eyes snapped open at the shout, and he bolted upright from where he’d been sleeping.

He looked immediately over at where Twilight’s cry had come from, and saw him shouting in Wild’s face, shaking him none too gently. Time quickly got to his feet and dragged him back, giving the young man in front of him a disbelieving look.

“Rancher, what on earth are you doing?” he demanded, and Twilight looked at him, eyes frantic.

“He’s still out Time, he’s not— I fell asleep last night at some point, I don’t know when, but I woke up a bit ago and he’s still in it,” Twilight said, looking on the verge of panic, “I tried waking him up more gently but he’s not even twitching, something’s wrong with him!”

Time looked immediately at Wild, and felt a deep concern rise in his chest.

Wild had fallen into one of his memories last evening, right as they’d been preparing to make camp for the night anyway. Nobody had been too worried, since they were now quite used to the champion regaining memories at odd moments, and they’d set up camp and eaten dinner without much fuss.

They’d all grown a little more concerned when it had been over an hour and Wild still hadn’t awoken, but even Twilight had figured it must have just been a longer memory to regain. They’d all gone to bed, apart from Twilight who insisted on waiting up, and Time had fully expected to wake up in the morning and see Wild making breakfast as usual.

He should have known better.

Nothing was ever that simple for them.

Time let go of Twilight, and looked again at Wild, studying the champion in concern. Wild still had the exact same blank expression and faded look in his eyes from the night before, his position only changed slightly from Twilight’s attempts at waking him.

It had been more than eleven hours since he’d fallen into the memory.

The others had been woken up by Twilight’s shouts, and it didn’t take long for them all to cluster around Wild, eyes widening as one by one they realized he still wasn’t responding to anything.

They began attempting everything they could think of to rouse him, shouting his name, dousing him, lightly tickling the back of his neck. Hyrule even pulled out a strong-smelling plant of some kind he had in his bag, but Wild didn’t move for any of it, still staring, still blank.

“Let me try something,” Legend said finally, after countless unsuccessful attempts, and took out a pale ocarina.

He had an unreadable look on his eye as he began to play a soft tune, the notes somehow both sad and heartwarming. The others all listened in silence, and as the last note faded, they all looked intently at Wild, hope bright on their faces.

The champion still hadn’t moved.

“...That should have worked,” Legend said in a quiet voice, and Sky patted him on the back, telling him it was a good try.

The others began to talk about what to do next, but Time ignored them, studying Wild in silence. Something about Legend’s attempt was stirring an idea in his head, an inkling that deep down he knew what was wrong with the champion, but he wasn’t sure yet.

He watched Wild for a long time while the others talked, noting the deep breaths he took, and pale film over his eyes. His appearance hadn’t changed a bit the entire time, but Time continued to study him, a hand on his chin.

And suddenly he knew what was wrong.

“Rancher, you said he normally experiences the whole memory, then comes back?” Time said, and the others paused in their discussion, looking at him.

“That’s what he says happens,” Twilight said, still looking incredibly worried. “He watches it happen, doesn’t quite experience it exactly in... himself, though, if that makes any sense. And once it’s over, he wakes up.”

Time nodded, then turned from Wild, looking over the rest of the worried group.

“I believe he’s repeating the memory,” he said plainly.

They all looked at him in confusion at the statement, not even Twilight catching on. “What do you mean repeating it?” Hyrule asked hesitantly, and Time looked back at Wild.

“Every four minutes and thirty-two seconds, on the dot, his eyes shift to the left,” Time said. “And one minute and nine seconds after that, he takes in a noticeably deeper breath. I’ve been watching him, it’s the exact same increment of time, every time. I believe he’s trapped in a loop. Continually repeating the memory he’s recovered.”

The words felt sour on his tongue as he spoke them, masks and moons stirring in his memory as he explained.

What a terrible fate.

“But how did that happen?” Twilight asked in dismay, pulling him out of his darkening thoughts. He placed a careful hand on Wild’s head and looked into his eyes. “That’s never happened before, how could—”

“Wait, remember that weird guy we saw in that last town we were at?” Wind suddenly piped up.

Everyone stared at him.

“Oh... I guess that was just me and Wild,” the sailor said a little awkwardly. “Well he was real kooky, had these big robes on and looked all insulted when we tried to walk by his stall without stopping. He tried to get us to buy stuff and was being really rude and up in our faces, and Wild finally told him off and showed him his weapons and stuff so he knew he meant it. But he was still acting strange when we left, waving his arms and all weirdly smug, even though we didn’t buy anything.”

“You didn’t think to mention this before now?” Twilight asked with an edge to his voice, and Wind raised his hands defensively.

“We meet all sorts of weirdos, I didn’t think anything was wrong at the time!”

Twilight opened his mouth to say more, but Time put his hand on his arm, stopping him. It wasn’t the time to argue about it.

“Well that explains the who, but not the how,” Warriors said thoughtfully as he looked at Wild again.

“It’s got to be a delayed curse of some kind,” Legend muttered, tapping his chin. “He cast it when Wild was in front of him, and it only began affecting him when the memory hit for some reason.”

“But how do we get him out?” Sky asked in dismay, and Time pulled out his ocarina, quieting the group.

“I believe I can retrieve him. I’ve had experiences a little like this.”

“But how?” Hyrule asked, and Time smiled grimly, the purplish-blue of his ocarina shining bright in the morning sunshine.

“I believe I’ll need our sailor’s help for that.”

After explaining himself and going through a short lesson and period of preparation after (Twilight pacing with agitation the entire time), Wind and Time sat down in front of Wild, each with their respective instruments. The other Links hovered nearby, Twilight especially looking concerned, and Time held back a sigh as he watched him continue to pace.

Wild had been out for close to fourteen hours now.

“Are you sure I can’t help?” Twilight asked for the third time in a row, and Time shook his head.

“I’m sorry Rancher, but no. You’re inexperienced in magic like this, and we don’t want to cause Wild any harm.” Seeing Twilight’s frustrated look, Time caught his eye, and gave his arm a bracing squeeze. “We’ll get him out, Twilight. But he’ll need someone out here when he wakes up, and better you then anyone.”

Twilight closed his eyes, struggle clear on his face. But he nodded, and drew back after a moment.

“Be careful.”

“We will.”

Time looked over at Wind, fidgeting with the Wind Waker. “Are you ready, Sailor?”

“Yep! But I still think I could do it by myself,” Wind said as he stretched his arms above his head, and Time smiled a little grimly.

“I’m certain you could. But we don’t know the strength of the curse, and the Wind Waker may need a boost. Hopefully the ocarina will be enough.” Time sighed, watching as Twilight sat next to Wild, still completely unresponsive. “And we don’t know what state Wild is in at the moment, no less what it’ll be like in his memory. Better you have backup in case something happens.”

Wind suddenly looked much more nervous then before, but he nodded determinedly.

Then Time raised his ocarina to his lips, pausing a moment as he took a deep breath, and Wind raised his baton in preparation.

Time began playing the Command Melody that Wind had told him about once before, and had taught him now, the sailor conducting him as he went. A breeze brushed his cheek as he blew, the wind increasing as he played through the song, and Wind’s eyes squeezed shut in concentration, his tongue slightly sticking out.

Time focused on the heavy magic that they were weaving with the music, directing it towards Wild. It seemed to flow reasonably well, but as the song swelled, Time found himself suddenly wondering what they would do if this didn’t work.

It will work. It has to.

A faint chorus seemed to join them, weaving seamlessly in with both the wind and the playing from his ocarina. The last note faded from his lips, and the chorus stilled, the world seeming to hold its breath.

And then Time’s vision suddenly tunneled, his senses going dark.

(...)

A scream woke him.

Time’s eye snapped open into an expanse of shimmering grass, wide and endless. The familiarly of the location made his heart beat unpleasantly, but at another glance, it was clear it wasn’t the same as what he was remembering. There was a faint mist blowing through the field, tinged blue and gently swirling, but the only noise was that of the grass swaying, no other sounds or screams that he could make out.

He doubted he had imagined the cry, though.

A rustle caught his attention and he turned to see Wind sitting up next to him, looking around at the fog with an expression of wonder. He didn’t appear nearly as uneasy as Time felt, and ran a hand through the grass, blinking at the unusual noise it made.

“Is this Wild’s... head?” he asked as he got to his feet, and Time hummed, doing the same.

“In some respect, yes, I believe so.”

“It isn’t usually like this when I use the command melody,” Wind said after a minute, face curious. “...though I’ve never tried it on anyone asleep. It’s a lot calmer than I thought it would be too. I guess I sort of assumed...”

A distant sob was carried to them by the wind, and Wind went silent, both of them exchanging looks before quickly heading in the direction it came from.

A few trees were faintly visible through the fog, but Time barely noticed them, intent on listening for any more noises to follow. The grass rustled slightly as they walked, the sound unnatural and strange, and the blades were almost silky-feeling when Time touched them.

They’d been going for an indeterminable amount of time when Wind suddenly tugged his arm and motioned for him to stop, ears pricked. Time froze, and strained his ears, heart jumping when he heard a familiar voice.

“Let me out, let me out let me out please Hylia, make it stop—”

The last word choked off into a sob, and Wind bolted, Time quickly wading after him. He soon caught up to the sailor, and they made their way through the long grass and fog, following the distant cries.

They finally reached an area where the mist thinned, blue swirling silently away, and Wind gasped as they both saw a figure collapsed in the grass.

Wild was curled into a ball, his hands clutching at his scalp so hard there was blood in his nails. His face was pressed to his knees, hair falling over his eyes, and Time quickly went to his side and crouched next to him.

“Champion,” Time said urgently, but Wild didn’t reply, mumbling rapidly under his breath.

Time and Wind exchanged looks, and Time extended a hand, touching Wild’s shoulder as gently as possible.

Wild gasped and opened his eyes, looking around with a terrified expression. His eyes flickered like he was looking at something only he could see, and his breath hitched as he stared right through Wind and Time, no recognition on his tearstained face.

“Wild?” Wind asked in a small voice, and Wild’s head jerked, his breath coming in thin gasps as he looked around.

The same faint scream Time had heard earlier echoed through the air, and Wild’s breath caught on a sob, the Champion pressing his head back against his knees.

“Please, please, not again, don’t show me again!” he gasped, voice hitching.

“Link,” Time said forcefully, and squeezed his shoulder. “I don’t know what you’re seeing, but it’s not real. We’re here to get you out.”

Wild’s next breath cut off into a wail, and he slammed his hands over his ears, so tightly Time was afraid he would hurt himself. Time reached forward to put his hand back on his arm, but Wild fell abruptly limp, whimpering as he took a deeper breath.

He opened his eyes again, bloodshot and haunted, but filled now with gut-wrenching acceptance.

“Again,” he whispered, and his breath shuddered on a sob.

It must have restarted, Time thought with an ache in his chest, and Wind moved forward, gently taking Wild’s hand.

“Champion? It’s us, remember?” Wind asked in a surprisingly steady voice, looking down at him. Wild stilled a little, but he continued to look around, ears flicking in all directions, tears still leaking from his eyes. “Link?”

Wild flinched at the name, but it seemed to help, his eyes focusing a bit more, and not darting around as much. Wind repeated his name in that same gentle voice, and Wild’s eyes slowly trailed up and focused on Wind. A sudden clarity shone in the blues as he stared at him for several long moments, and he leaned forward, eyes wide.

“Sailor?” Wild breathed eventually, and Time nodded, giving him an encouraging look. “Old— old man?”

“That’s right. We’re here to get you out,” he said with no small relief, and Wind helped Wild slowly sit up. He pulled him into a side hug, and the shivers wracking through Wild eased a bit, the champion looking relieved at the touch.

“Do you know what happened?” Time continued, carefully studying his face.

Wild swallowed.

“Something went wrong,” he stammered, looking more shaken than Time had ever seen him. He stared to the left for several moments before continuing, letting out a violent shudder. “With the— the memory. Don’t know what, the first time was just a normal one, but it— it changed. And now it keeps r-repeating and it won’t stop, no matter what I do I can’t make it stop—”

His head suddenly snapped to the side, and he choked on a breath, appearing to force himself to look back at Time and Wind.

“...How many times has it been?” Time asked quietly as he rubbed Wild’s shoulder. Please goddesses, let it not be as many as I suspect.

“Don’t know,” Wild croaked, haunted look in his eyes somehow brightened by the fog. “I lost track close to a hundred.”

Time felt the blood drain from his face as Wind gasped, and the voice suddenly screamed again.

Wild violently flinched at the sound, his trembling begun again, and Wind moved so he was more hugging the champion. The sailor’s face was pale, and Time kept his hand on Wild’s shoulder, steadying the teenager in front of him when another shudder ran up his spine.

More than a hundred times...

“Can you make it stop?” Wild whispered, looking off at something Time couldn’t see again. Wind nodded rapidly, and Time took both of Wild’s shoulders in his hands and gave them a bracing squeeze.

“We can. Just hold tight. We’re going to pull you out with us when we break the connection,” he reassured, and Wild looked utterly relieved, even with tears still trickling down his cheeks.

Wild clung tightly to him as Time began to help him up, shaking like a leaf. Time rubbed his shoulder again, concern laying heavy in his chest, and Wind gave him an uncertain look. The sailor was doubtless thinking along the same lines as he was.

They didn’t know what Wild was seeing, but it was obviously affecting him deeply, and he’d already been forced to go through it so many times, and for so long...

Wild was strong, Time knew. Stronger then he gave himself credit for. But everyone had their limits.

Had Wild already been pushed past his?

“Let’s get out of here,” Time said as Wild flinched again, and Wind nodded, looking around at the field again.

“I’ve never done this before,” the sailor admitted with a worried look between Time and Wild, “breaking the song’s magic like this. I don’t know if... What if we can’t..?”

“Then we will come back and try again,” Time said confidently, and put an arm around Wild’s shoulder to more solidly hold him up. “As many times as it takes. Now let’s get out of here.”

He wrapped Wild in his arms, the teenager still violently shaking, and Wind put his arms around Wild’s back as well. Time closed his eye, and focused on the magic allowing him and Wind to be here, and began tugging it away, neatly snipping them from Wild’s mind.

But he made sure to bring Wild too, tearing at the sticky threads of curse he could feel surrounding him, not letting them pull him back into his mind, trapping him there forever like they wanted. It was hard magic, gumming up the works and spreading its grimy reach into every corner it could get to. But Time still fought against it, cutting it apart, ripping it away where it clung.

He’d had plenty of practice with magic that refused to let go. This was no different.

He could feel Wind tugging as hard as he could, and Wild weakly pulling as well, and as all three of them went after the last thread, the magic suddenly snapped, throwing Time back into his own body with a horrible lurch.

It took him a long moment to readjust, settling back into his own mind rather disorienting. But he managed to open his eye after a moment, and saw Legend looking at him in concern. His hand was on his arm, stopping him from falling over, and Time gave him a small smile as he regained the rest of his senses.

Then immediately looked over at Wild.

The champion hadn’t moved.

Time’s heart fell as Warriors helped Wind sit up, the sailor shaking his head and looking dizzy. Wind looked over at him, then turned towards Wild, and a quiet oh escaped his lips, face falling.

Twilight was still seated next to Wild, the hopeful look on his face soured as Time and Wind looked between each other. Time met his eyes, and the rancher swallowed, looking away from Wild and down at his hands.

Wild breathed in sharply.

Twilight’s head snapped up, and they all watched with bated breath as Wild seemed to freeze, even more still than before. Time carefully moved over to him, and he and Twilight watched in silence, waiting for movement... a sign...

“Come on Champion, come back to us...” Time murmured.

Wild didn’t move.

And then his eyes snapped open, and he collapsed forward onto Twilight’s waiting arms with a gasp, Twilight letting out a tense laugh of relief as he caught him.

“It worked!” Wind cheered, and the others let out varying sounds of joy and relief, clapping Time and Wind on the back, trying to see how Wild was doing. Time smiled and endured the happy clamor, but his smile stiffened as he looked at Wild.

He was buried in Twilight’s hold, still faintly trembling, and Time could see him getting more and more tense as the noise around him increased. Someone nudged him on the arm, and he stiffened so abruptly Twilight jumped a little.

“Give him space,” Time said quietly, catching the others’ attention with his tone of voice. “He’s been through a lot, and will need rest. I think perhaps, he could also use some breakfast... could you all help with that?”

The heroes exchanged looks, but they took the hint and nodded, and everyone except for Wind went off in the direction of the cooking pot. They cast glances back at where Wild still lay, but didn’t comment further. Wind joined Time and Twilight’s sides, and he looked down at Wild with a hesitant expression.

“Is he okay?” he asked softly.

A noise came from Twilight’s arms, and they all looked at Wild, still trembling, and curled in Twilight’s hold with a surprising amount of vulnerability. Wild breathed out slowly, and despite how he was still clutching at Twilight’s wolf pelt with hands that shook more than ever, he raised his head, and met Time’s eye.

The gratitude and relief in his gaze was nearly overwhelming, and Time leaned down to take his hand in his, Wild clutching at it like a lifeline.

“Wild?” Twilight asked carefully, and Wild flicked an ear in recognition that he’d heard. “How are you doing cub?”

Wild closed his eyes again, and didn’t immediately reply.

Then a noise between a laugh and a sob escaped his lips, his shaking increasing again as tears started to fall down his cheeks. Time drew the arm Wild was still clasping closer to him, holding it to his chest, and Wild let out another laughing sob.

Wind squashed himself between Time and Twilight as well, and all three of them held Wild as he cried with relief, overwhelmed at finally being freed from his own mind.

“You’re okay,” Twilight whispered, running a hand through Wild’s hair. “You’re out, Link. You’re safe.”

“And we’re gonna make sure it never happens again,” Wind said fiercely, a thread of guilt in his voice as Wild shuddered. “Never again.”

Time didn’t say anything, but Wild gripped at his hand again, and he squeezed it silently in return.

Never again.

#how many times can I wake people up and knock them out in these fics 😂#linkeduniverse #linked universe #lu wild #lu time #lu twilight #lu wind #linked universe fanfic #writing from the floor #whumptober 2023 #solitary confinement #make it stop #day 3 #rip Wild sorry dude #your memories are too fun to play around with #he lucked out honestly #originally I had him and Time stuck in a time loop where twi kept dying

205 notes · View notes

mugentakeda · 3 months

Text

the tapping of his fathers pacing on the tile is almost enough to drive him mad.

“don’t let your brother’s incessant whining cause you to falter. this is merely a short visit to discuss the matter at hand, and then you’re on your way right back to ba sing se. he will try and whisper doubt in your ear.” the firelord stops to shake a finger at him. “do not listen to him for anything! i will help you in the best of my ability to have this taken care of.”

“i’m not,” iroh snaps impatiently, digging his palms into his eyes. “i’m not listening to him, father. he doesn’t care for lu ten and he doesn’t have to. he has his house and i have mine. empty words have little meaning to me at the moment.”

his father purses his lips. the sting of his stare digs down to the core.

“you say that,” azulon snaps, “but i believe this to be a family affair. its possible lu ten was taken advantage of because he was too busy protecting ozai’s wife and ozai’s children to protect himself. if that’s true, then ozai owes him. i don’t give a damn if he cares about him as his nephew or not. lu ten honored his house, so he shall honor lu ten in return by shutting his trap for once.”

iroh doesn’t have the strength to respond. he’d left ba sing se in a rush after receiving the news, and ordered the shipmen to get him back home on the double. he’s sick, he’s tired, he’s terrified and angry, and he misses his son something awful. the last thing iroh cares about right now is what ozai does or has to say.

there’s a heavy, sad sigh from above him. azulon slowly makes himself comfortable on the sitting cushion next to him, grunting as his bones creak. he sets the knocked over teacup straight again and refills it. the familiar heat and fragrance does nothing to soothe iroh, however.

“there is nothing i can say to make you feel better as of right now,” his old man mutters, sitting the teapot back down with uncharacteristic gentleness, “nor can i say anything sure about ursa or the children. but lu ten, he…. he is a remarkable young man. thick skinned and ornery. lightning generation at only 21, can you believe that? he beat you by a whole year. you must have faith in him.”

“it’s not about having faith in my son, father, of course i have faith in my son. but i have no faith in whoever has- has stolen him from me!” iroh suddenly exclaims, gesturing wildly. azulon flinches as his hands come dangerously close to knocking over the tea again.

your boy flagrantly disrespected you and stayed home to laze around, ozai had hissed, his narrow eyes locked straight up at the throne. both were kneeling before their father’s throne, side by side. i don’t know why you even bother. if he thinks he’s so grown up then he can save his own skin.

iroh didn’t bother to respond. he has nothing to say to his brother even on the best of days. all his life, he’s been nothing but a background character to iroh. always insisting on holing up in his room or office, never joining family dinners or celebration banquets. never one to offer his congratulations, but expects his older brother to offer his. yet, he always liked to think his word was of any significance to iroh. that he was always to be heeded. respect to his elders only means something to his little brother if there’s something to be gained.

flagrant disrespect. lu ten did not disrespect him if iroh never directly asked or ordered anything of him in the first place. he implied it, and lu ten pushed back. it hurt, but it would’ve also been the boys first true venture outside the fire nation. so iroh understood the hesitancy.

iroh would’ve just had lu ten by his side in his war council anyway. he would’ve never seen the battlefield or the city until iroh leveled it. not a spot of green would be spared by his men.

he had envisioned himself shooting a hole right through the flimsy palace wall with his lightning, and his son by his side. winning.

nothing has gone the way you made it out to be, great spirit. i don’t feel very lucky, as of late. the evening sun peaking through the tall windows of the corridor offer his thoughts no response. the general sighs heavily, and continues on his way.

the royal procession had gone through the beach house, along with the rest of the island. not a trace left behind. no sign of a struggle, either.

the procession claims it’s like they vanished out of thin air, sir, jee had whispered.

delicate situations such as this one call for holding the ones you trust most closer than ever. thus, iroh took only his personal guards from ba sing se back with him. jee is a rugged and introverted man, one that iroh knows can keep a secret, so he has been acting as his messenger man and valet for the time being.

another member of his most trusted circle is one of his longest working servants, one that belongs to iroh’s house personally. her name is su, and she is a stout woman around his father’s age. stern and silent, but trustworthy. she was the one that kept a close eye on lu ten from a distance during the periods of time iroh wasn’t around in his youth. she had been the midwife at his birth, she had been the one to pick the wet nurse.

and she had slipped iroh a journal outside of lu ten’s room. leather bound and stained in a deep red, with delicate embroidery of lotus flowers decorating its cover. it looked like something the lady ursa would gift him.

i came across this left behind in lady ursa’s garden, your highness, she had murmured fiercely. i snatched it right up and held it for you upon your return, lest it fall into the wrong hands.

the dark, warm silence of iroh’s own chambers is a small comfort, but the cold leather of the journal in his hands chains him to the cruel reality.

one of the vows iroh made for himself when lu ten came into puberty was that he would never violate his son’s privacy. he’d like to think that his son’s life possibly being in danger is a good enough reason to break it, but it still feels… wrong. especially now that he’s an adult himself.

it’ll be like eating a dollop of wasabi, he tells himself. spicy and painful one moment, then fading tingling the next.

with a sigh, he cracks it open to the back page. a few lines of familiar scrawl.

and the reason i torture myself trying to ignore all these things about him that bother me is because….

he looks away, shame crawling up his back. the candle sitting at the corner of his desk flicker along with his irregular, fear ridden heart.

a dollop of wasabi, he reminds himself. he opens his eyes again with a long breath and looks back down at the journal once more.

…well, that’s the crux of it. i just don’t know how to finish that sentence anymore.

that tells him a whole lot of nothing.

iroh flips the page back again, and is immediately overwhelmed by completely filled pages. then startled, by the sheer amount of times his own name pops up to his searching eyes among walls of scrawled text.

unease curls in his gut, like a dragon slowly rising from a slumber.

the ink doesn’t look too old. and su had said she found it in the lady ursa’s garden. and then jee said the royal procession claimed the fours’ trip to ember island was only to last three days, tops.

and as far as iroh knew, lu ten had been keeping quietly busy after iroh’s departure to ba sing se. lu ten willingly buried himself in paper work, always hunting for things he had the power to make into his business. training with lightning generation was grueling, and took hours, on top of the meditation necessary. and it takes a clear mind to even work with lightning, so…

had he done something recently to upset lu ten, and didn’t realize it? what things about iroh did lu ten torture himself trying to ignore? dramatic wording like that is difficult to overlook.

the general thinks back to how well his son can hide his emotions. lu ten’s court face beats even ozai’s, so it made him a gnarly pai sho opponent, but… he never did the backhanded comments. he can lie, but he’s a man of action before a plotting one. so you’ll never see the storm coming until it hits you directly in the face.

the letters he got back from him in ba sing se were… neutral. unbothered. he hadn’t seemed very troubled at the palace gates during his departure, either. tired and a bit wary, maybe.

but now that he thinks about it, the way lu ten looked at him had been… strange. his eyes had an emotion swirling in them that the general couldn’t read.

he rapidly rolls over the most recent letters in his head, the days right before leaving, trying to think of what he might have done to set lu ten off-

…the tiff they had on the evening before iroh’s departure.

he had forgotten about it completely.

spirits, he’d forgotten about it by the time he stepped foot on the shore. the elation of finally arriving at ba sing se, the first big step toward fulfilling the biggest thing he’s wanted to accomplish his entire life, the ultimate win, decades of planning and dreaming, inspired by agni herself…

he’d been caught up in the heat of the moment.

it didn’t even turn into an actual argument, that’s how small the tiff had been- a few things thrown back and forth during their private dinner, and the rest of it had been spent in awkward silence. iroh had let his hurt get the better of him, and he got testy.

the only thing that spoiled his ongoing luck, his relief of finally being able to go and crush his country’s most stubborn opponent, to make the second biggest win since sozin- was his own son not joining in, or showing any interest.

and that wasn’t even it. the closer iroh and his advisors got to bringing their planning to a conclusion, the more withdrawn lu ten became. whenever iroh brought it up, his son would close like a firelily in the night.

i assumed you were above teenage rebellion, iroh had muttered. i understand you want accomplishments of your own, but-

teenage rebellion? you’re joking, right? why do you always insist on- on patronizing me whenever we don’t agree on something? if you think you’re gonna guilt trip me into changing my mind, you’ve got it all wrong.

the disbelieving, ever so slightly shriller tone lu ten’s voice took on reminded iroh of his mother. she always had the habit of raising her voice a few pitches when she got upset. it reminded iroh of a coyote-eagle, once upon a time. the older lu ten got, the taller and leaner his face and physique became, the more time they spent apart, it’s like a vivid repeat of his mother. he even became a hand talker when iroh hadn’t been looking, just like fuhua.

(are habits hereditary, or had fuhua died after running away, and came back to haunt him?)

it’s probably best to start a bit further back in the journal. it might provide the context this father needs. he flips the pages for a few moments, and stops at random.

i spoke with a gentleman from the earth kingdom today during my observational trip through the colonies closest to the homeland. if you didn’t look close enough, you would’ve thought him to be any old fire nation fisherman, but i know green eyes when i see them.

his wife was a sailor that hails from caldera city. they met across the seas, in a neutral port town. they have two young twins, just barely older than zuko and azula. isn’t that something?

now, that is something iroh never bothered doing when he was a young man- it’s only now that his joints won’t let him run around chasing skirts anymore that he’s become a people person. but he’s proud of his boy for taking that initiative and having such a sense of responsibility, to go and mingle with the common man. an empathetic ruler that’s popular with his people will have the surest and furthest reaching authority, after all. iroh couldn’t name a single councilman off the top of his head that would be willing to even breathe the same air as a commoner, much less a colonial mutt.

however… this isn’t a colonial. he’s too keen on the idea of his family members’ abductors being petty, revenge seeking crooks from the earth kingdom to be okay with the idea of his son even conversing with one. for all they claim to be true and steadfast, them sneaking in and attacking an unarmed woman and her young children in their beach house just to get back at iroh is all too realistic of an idea.

but lu ten wasn’t unarmed. lu ten is one of the strongest men in the fire nation, and iroh isn’t even being biased about that. it takes prodigy to conjure lightning, and mastery to control it. and lu ten was very protective of ursa and the children- almost too protective. back in the day, during celebration parties at the palace, lu ten would damn near prowl around a pregnant ursa to fend off the careless crowd, lest they bump into her and jostle her. and he’d only been just a young teenager himself, so it was like watching a polar bear puppy that thought itself a snarly guard dog.

then a few years ago, there had been an incident where lu ten claimed zuko’s instructors were smacking him around. he’d grabbed both of the men by the collar and dragged them both viciously through the palace and right out the door- only after the sharpest scolding iroh’s ever heard since his mother was still alive. he’d never seen his son so angry. he’d chuckled at the way those old instructors had babbled apologies and fell to lu ten’s feet, while patting ursa’s back gently as she floundered.

no, it’s doubtful that an old fisherman had anything to do with it. earth kingdom or not. this is just something he needs to talk to his son about once he’s found. it would take a group of very strong benders to take lu ten down, at the very least.

he was wisecracking and friendly. we talked about his business, the officials that take care of the town and the surrounding environment, how he met his wife. he even shared his lunch during our time together- grilled fish, fragrant with sumac and citrus, and a chilled earth kingdom style mint tea. it was refreshing and unique, and i want to do it again. you’d think the fire nation would pick up these little things as it expands, but it just drowns it all out. i’m not sure if that’s a good thing. what made the food good was its earth kingdom style and seasoning, after all. what made the man interesting was his earth kingdom raised manner.

…what made lu ten think it was a good idea to write such things in a journal, and then be so careless to just forget it in ursa’s garden? he’ll have to thank su for her keen eye. if someone lacking critical thinking happened to pick this up and turn it in to his father, he’d have to deal with his son having allegations of sedition on top of everything else.

iroh, personally, is more than happy to let all traces of chilled tea get drowned out. it’s a frequent and light hearted debate between a father and son, the do’s and don’ts of tea. iroh is a stickler for tradition and enjoying the natural flavors. the fire nation boasted only the most fragrant flowers to enhance only the most delicate flavors of only the finest tea blends, after all.

his son claimed it all tasted like dinky dirt water, and stubbornly stuck with his cold hibiscus teas with herbs, and his heavily spiced and creamed saffron teas. it had been a big joke back then, but now… not so much.

a whole lifetime of a father making his son tea, sharing one of his passions. conversations over tea, tea for soothing a sore throat after screaming matches with councilmen, tea to wash down sea water accidentally swallowed at the beach. traditional methods, ceremonies, porcelain pots precious enough to buy a whole town- but it’s dirt water. yet an old fisherman from their greatest enemy shares ice water with a few mint leaves in a tin cup, and its unique.

and he wants to do it again.

the personal betrayal somehow hurts more than the blatant treachery written out plainly on the paper.

to be honest, i think that it’s a great shame that a good man like that has to be careful on his own property-property he paid for with his own money and built with his own hands- due to being from the earth kingdom, even if he has a strong marriage to a fire nation citizen. i thought about it for a long time, and realized that even if he wasn’t loyal to the crown, i didn’t mind. i don’t get angry at the idea, and i don’t think i ever have. i didn’t even think about it until i left. he made good company, offered to share his food with me, and introduced me to his beautiful children as if i was his new neighbor. i think community like that is something the fire nation needs. especially the nobility, who you’d think all have iron sticks shoved up their asses.

interactions like that are the most important ones to me, because they challenge me the most. i hate to cheapen that by thinking i just enjoy being challenged to spite my traditions and elders, or to be contrarian. that’s what coming of age means to me- looking inward, and asking the big questions.

…this can’t be why lu ten has been so distant lately.

the general slowly shuts the journal in dull horror. how long has this sickness had time to fester his son’s soul?

he swallows hard, and gingerly slides the journal in the folds of his robes. under no circumstance can anyone get their hands on it.

and later, when his gut quits churning and the candles around him quit threatening to set his room on fire, he’ll read this whole journal, front to back. brand every sentence, every symbol into his eyes. then he’s gonna burn it, bring his son home, and ask him what the hell he’s thinking.

the next morning, after letting the foul scent of burnt leather fade from his chambers, iroh finds jee.

“what can i do you for, your highness?”

“i need you to bring me the finest bounty hunter money can buy,” iroh murmurs. there’s a madness in his eyes and in his grip now that he’s had time to ponder the contents of his son’s journal, and what they entail. “and no matter what, it stays between us. i do not care what measures you must take to keep it that way.”

jee swallows hard and salutes with purpose. the poor man must be able to his see stress all over his face, but he’s barely containing himself the way it is.

this was no kidnapping. the blasted earth kingdom has everything to do with it, naturally, but it was no kidnapping.

jee returns to him that evening, followed by a lovely young woman, head to toe in black leather. her gait oozes confidence, and her narrow eyes scream danger.

this is definitely not the kind of finest iroh meant by finest bounty hunter money can buy, but he’ll take it.

“…i’ve, uh. fulfilled your request, your highness,” jee says. he looks flustered, and is clearly refusing to even glance at the woman.

“with a few breaks in between, i’m guessing. your collar is uneven, soldier,” iroh deadpans. he’d call it a shame if he wasn’t curbing an episode at the moment.

jee makes a faint noise of distress and fumbles with his uniform, blushing a deep red. iroh realizes that was the wrong thing to say at how the fair lady scowls at the crude jab.

she shoves past jee with an aggressive shoulder clip and crosses her arms before the general.

“i was promised a shitload of coin in exchange for some missing royals,” she says, voice clipped. “i don’t like to work with your kind, but good money is good money. and i can promise better and quicker results than any phony bounty hunter in the world- my companion is a shirshu. she can sniff out a rat from a whole continent away.”

a shirshu, eh? it would seem my luck has made its return after long last.

“impressive,” iroh praises truthfully. he’s a weak man for crass and foul-mouthed women. “i’d like to take a look at this beast, and then we can discuss the details and prices. i also hope you’re alright with keeping this transaction under wraps, my dear.”

she sneers. “you can call me june. and i’d highly suggest keeping a few steps away from my nyla, for your own good.”

jee clears his throat. “i’d listen to that one, sir. her creature is something else.”

iroh hums pleasantly, and keeps a few paces behind june as they go. a strange calm has washed over him now that the universe finally makes sense to him again; he has a few more people he’d like to question, and he’ll be all set. then sooner, if he’s lucky, rather than later, his sister-in-law, his nephew, and his niece will all be found and returned home, safe and sound. his son will be in his arms, whole and unharmed. ba sing se will simply have to wait.

and if they’re lucky, the dragon of the west won’t have thought up a better solution to finally grinding their sorry ashes into their own dirt by the time he gets back. but regardless, he will win.

#somehow this did not leave off on a redemption-esque note. My bad #I PROMISE IM GONNA ABIDE BY THE POLL RESULTS OKAY #this part can honestly be called Irohs Cognitive Dissonance: The Thrilling Saga #also im sorry about the lack of focus on irohs relationship with zuko and azula.#i know it tracks in canon (azulas doll gift) but im still. Kinda unsure.#im honestly better at just writing irohs dialogue vs his thoughts #and this being him before he starts changing makes it even WORSE #so i hope. i did him some justice. Awks #also i hope you guys liked the implication of june and jee making out sloppy style.#even if iroh kinda ruined it.#idk where that even came from it just happened #i hope u guys are seeing all the azula-iroh parallels about Winning and Luck. thats all intentional #runaway fire fam au #alicias writing stuff

46 notes · View notes