Sarah Connor is cursed to be ever vigilant (ever_vigilant) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2012-09-06 01:01:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, iroh, neena thurman (domino) |
I am old, Neena, and I cannot do this myself
Who: Iroh, Neena
What: Bitter, bitter work.
When: Sunday afternoon
Where: Jasmine Dragon Tea House
Ratings/Warnings: PG-13 for discussions of assassination.
Status: Complete!
At the Jasmine Dragon Tea House, there was a room off the zen garden courtyard that was plushly furnished and decorated with the highest attention to detail. It was a room meant for grand guests or important occasions, festival celebrations, family affairs, and rituals.
The screens were richly painted in the traditional style, with some gold foil accents here and there that caught the warm light in the room as it flickered about. When the screen wasn’t open, the lanterns that provided the only light source added a sense of warm comfort to the ambiance.
Neena thought it was extremely tasteful, but she questioned the importance of her meeting here with Iroh, if this was the room he had decided to seat her in. This was not a room for informal meetings. This was a room for arrangements and discussions, and the honor he was doing her was, she felt, completely misplaced.
It made her nervous. Sitting there waiting for Iroh to bring the tea, she wondered why it was that a picture of an unidentified young japanese man was on the table. The rest of the room was furnished in a very impersonal way. This was a personal possession. It didn’t belong. She could only surmise that it had been left there on purpose.
She picked it up in her hands and studied it for a few minutes, before a crack of light flooded the room, and Iroh appeared with a tray of tea. He smiled at her as he deftly slid the screen shut with his foot and set the tray down on the table.
“My son, Lu Ten,” Iroh remarked, noticing the photo was in her hands.
“He has joined our ancestors now,” he added, in a softer tone, while settling himself into his place opposite her. His eyes were sad, and Neena couldn’t help but feel a stab of sorrow. For him, for anyone who’d lost a child. Her own pain was still fresh, though it was different. She didn’t pretend to draw parallels.
Instead, she gently set the picture down to the side of the tea tray, “I’m sorry to hear that, I really am.”
Iroh simply waved a hand through the air as he started pouring the tea, “He is missed, but he has passed long enough now, that the memories which remain often warm my heart instead of bringing me sadness. He would be proud of his father, I think. This House has been a dream of mine for quite some time.”
Tea poured, he picked a cup in his hand and set it in front of her across the table. He picked his own cup up, and she followed suit, so that they both enjoyed the first sip together. The tea was bitter, but fragrant. Neena didn’t mind the taste. She was still wondering what she was doing there, though, because she was almost certain they weren’t here to talk about his son, “Memories of past loved ones tend to do that over time, or so I hear. My own haven’t really ripened yet, but I certainly hope they will.”
“They will, this I can promise, though it saddens me to know that you have experiences to draw from, of course,” Iroh’s smile was, indeed, a mixture of warmth and sadness. Neena wasn’t sure how that was possible, but the older gentleman had certainly managed it.
He set his teacup down, and picked the picture up in his hands, the smile less sad and more fond for a moment, before his face sank into one that was purely sad, “It is not a good thing I have called you here to speak of today. The tea is bitter, because we are about to deal in bitter work.”
He wondered what Lu Ten would think of all of this. Would he be proud of his father for plotting against his Uncle, even if his Uncle was such a dangerous threat? Would he be proud of the thing he was about to ask this woman to do? He could only hope that he understood. Zilan, he knew, would have.
“I know why you are here. Zuko has told me of your mission. But you must understand, that the Fire Nation is a bigger problem than you realise. It will not be contained. There are other-wordly connections between one place and another that drive it. My brother stands at the head of this flame, and it will devour everything if left unchecked. He is driven by ambition, passion, anger, and his own fear. He will not be stopped easily.”
Neena pondered his words, while taking another sip of her tea, “Zuko told me as much. I was taking it in baby steps, myself. Ozai is a problem, and everyone knows it. Your own people know it. If you aren’t careful the entire Nation is going to break apart into more splinters than it already has. That... in my opinion, is about as dangerous really.”
The photo was set reverently down on the table, and the older man nodded his head slowly, “You must understand, however, that I am not speaking to you as a member of the Nation. I left that life behind me long ago, and though it has called me back, my first care is for my family. My nephew, who I have treated like a son. My niece, who struggles with her power, and her training. Mai. Ursa.”
He glanced at the photo and sighed, “I have already lost one son to this business. I cannot lose another, not if there is something we can do to prevent it. I do not wish to lose anyone else.”
Neena raised both of her eyebrows, “You can’t topple him off of his throne without putting someone in his place. You’re smart enough to know that, so you must have some kind of plan in place already. Or is that why I’m here?”
She had the sinking suspicion that helping him plan was not why she was there at all. Neena wasn’t stupid, either. But the decision he was about to come to was one that she understood through personal experience was one of the hardest ones Iroh would ever have to make. She wasn’t about to rush him.
He closed his eyes, and shook his head, “I wish that I could say that I asked you here to request your aid in forming a plan. But that is not why you are here. I wanted to make you aware of what that plan will be. This is something you may pass on to your superiors, when the time is right.”
After a slight nod from Neena, he continued, recounting the plan he and Azula had come up with about instituting a council after Ozai was taken care of. She took some mental notes but was otherwise silent, allowing him to explain everything and sipping at her tea. When he was finished, he leaned back on his haunches a bit and let out a long sigh.
“It’s not a bad plan, though I note there’s some pieces of it that you’re leaving out,” Neena said, after waiting a bit to let it all sink in. She added, softly, though she was being a bit bold and she knew it, “It’ll never be the right decision, Iroh. No matter which one you make, where Ozai is concerned, it’ll never be the right one. As crazy as he may be, as dangerous as he is - and believe me, I know. I know. By whoever’s hand justice is carried out, it will be the wrong one, in the end.”
It was bold, but it was also unexpected wisdom, and Iroh, whose eyes had gotten so weary that Neena wondered how he could even be the same person from moments ago, simply nodded his head.
She looked down into her teacup, “You’ll wish you had done it, because he’s your brother, and your responsibility. Azula and Zuko will wish they had gotten the chance to take care of him themselves. Even Mai might want the job. But none of you would ever forgive yourselves, if you did. You won’t, even if you have me do it.”
That needed to be clear. Iroh was wise enough to know it, she figured, but it had to be clear. Because this was, indeed, bitter work he was talking about. And it would always be bitter. He had to be sure the outcome was worth that, “Which, I suspect, is why I’m here.”
The man met her eyes, “Even in death, my brother will be a poison that hurts our entire family. I blame myself, in many ways. It is I who let him get this far, without doing anything about it. I could have challenged him for leadership - no one would have denied me. It was simply not what I wanted. Not after Lu Ten got caught up in everything. Not after what he did to Ursa, and his own children.”
He took a long sip of his tea, and continued, in a low whisper, “My brother cannot be saved, or reasoned with. If you try to arrest him or take him into custody, it will not go well for you, or your people. In prison, he will continue to run things behind the scenes. His influence is too great.”
“I am old, Neena, and I cannot do this myself. Even if I had enough power to stand against him, it would be better served putting back together what he has ripped apart. What he has done to us is unforgivable, but I would do it if I thought it he could be redeemed. There is only one way to do this, even if the choice will never be right. I hope you will understand why it is better for all of us if it is you or your people, and not one of us. Especially any of the children.”
She definitely didn’t want Ozai’s blood to be on any of their hands. She finished her tea, and set the cup back down on the table, “I need to think about this. And I want... to talk to them first. About all of this. I need to know, myself, that this is the best way.”
Iroh put his own teacup down, not bothering to hide the tears that were pricking at his eyes. There was no shame in shedding tears over this, “I understand. I would prefer it, as well, if you took this on with as clear a conscience as you can. They will not agree that this is the best course, but I would still rather you heard their positions on things first.”
Neena rose to her feet then, and Iroh followed suit, bowing to her, “You honor me more than you know, for even considering this.”
“... Don’t thank me yet, Iroh,” Neena whispered, as she bowed in suit.