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Iroh is the nicest villain (westerndragon) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2013-02-17 00:00:00

Who: Azula and Iroh
Where: Iroh’s office
What: plotting
When: 2/15
Warnings/Rating: PG for references to drugs and prostitution
Status complete


Iroh was in his office, sipping tea while he worked on paperwork. The hardest thing about running a secret crime organization was the increased paperwork. There was the actual paperwork for their records, and the falsified paperwork for the public records. He tapped a calculator and muttered at it in Japanese as he worked in the losses they’d suffered in the raid Tuesday. Thirty men, most arrested, with twelve dead and five maimed. His personal bodyguard had a broken nose, but was otherwise unharmed. Iroh was pleased with that, he wouldn’t have to find another man to use for bait.

All in all, the losses were acceptable in the face of the profits they’d made from that site since he’d arrived. He was certain Ozai would accept these losses as simply the cost of doing that kind of business, and approve another site to be started soon. Perhaps in another city, though. He wondered how much competition there would be in San Diego, or he could go to Mexico where litigation would be less likely.

Azula strode into the building, wearing a business skirt and a smartly fashionable matching shirt. Her hair was pulled back into a bun with two ornate looking (but deadly) pins. Her heels clicked on the tiles as she bypassed the security desk, shooting a dangerous look at the guard there, before pushing the door to Iroh's office open.

She stopped in front of the desk, leaning her hands on it and tilting her head down in his direction. She sounded bored, and lazy as she asked, "What's this about a warehouse?"

Iroh stood when she entered, not really surprised to see her. He put on his best smile for her. “Azula, you are looking lovely today. Would you like some tea? I just brewed a fresh pot, and tea is much better when shared.” He decided to play up his age, just to see what she’d do. She was a lot like Ozai, which would make her inclined to believe him a fool. He was fine with that, but he wanted to see what his niece was made of.

Azula had an advantage, and she knew it. The question was how to use it. The old fool had played them all pretty effectively. She tamped down the fire before it could reach her eyes. Better he think she was a spoiled brat with an edge to her, at least for now.

"Fine, tea, whatever." She waved a hand dismissively, pulling out a chair and taking a seat without being invited. "I received a call about losses at a warehouse I ordered shut down last week."

Iroh poured her tea, and listened to her concerns. Silly girl. She didn’t understand how this business should be run. It was to be expected. She was much like Ozai. He would never listen to anyone, why should his prize daughter be any different? “Hmmm, that is strange. The only losses I know of were in a warehouse under my direct control. Perhaps we have both been unfortunate this week.” He handed the small cup over, setting it on a coaster at the edge of the desk closest to her.

She narrowed her eyes, almost imperceptively, and picked up the tea to sip at it. She had manners and had been raised well, even if she found the whole thing foolish.

"It would be unfortunate to lose property, Uncle. It's my opinion that our resources could be better spent elsewhere." She still remembered the sight of that ship, and the cargo containers full of helpless girls and women. One of whom had been a friend. It made her voice harder than she'd intended it to be.

“It is unfortunate, but acceptable.” Iroh said, just as firmly. “We made enough profit from it to absorb the losses and then some. Your opinion is of interest to me, but it is my brother who makes the decisions. You wouldn’t put your dear uncle out of a job, would you?” The warehouse had been his trial run in this new position. “Beside, the information I gathered there, unintentional as it was, is of interest to us both. I had one of my men in the police force get a sample of one of the raiders’ blood, after he was shot in the head and recovered. Very interesting.” He spoke calmly, as though they were talking about a dollar bill he’d found on the street.

"Father might make the decisions but that doesn't mean they're the right ones. I nearly lost a friend to... Shot in the head and recovered?." Azula gave him an incredulous look as what he'd said sunk in, but didn't sound as surprised as she should have been, but that may have been because she'd shifted gears in the midst of complaining about something she genuinely seemed to care about.

Or maybe she knew more than she was letting on about strange powers.

Iroh smiled indulgently. Azula was so eager to be in charge, but perhaps that wasn’t a characteristic to be discouraged. It was possible he was misinformed about his niece. “Yes. He was walking with assistance before sinking into the floor with a girl who can walk through walls and take other with her. Three people destroyed that facility with minimal loss of innocent lives, and maximum damage done to my men. I’m sure you saw poor Hari outside the door. I asked him to sleep, once I knew what was coming. I assumed he’d be killed.”

"Some consider mercy to be an act of weakness," Azula said, partially quoting Ozai. She drummed her fingers on the chair armrest while sipping her tea with her other hand. "But they did it from a position of strength. Father would consider that an insult."

“Your father would indeed.” Iroh agreed, leaning back in his chair. “What do you think was meant by this act, Azula?” He wondered how this girl would see things, whether she was nothing but iron and fire, like her father, or if she was in balance, like his lamented mother. He could see either one in her, and he sincerely hoped for the later. Ozai was unbalanced, and would lead them all to ruin if left to his own devices.

Eight months ago, Azula would have been nothing but Iron and Fire. But dreams, and experience had softened her edge. Perhaps not all the way to balance. That wouldn't come without closure. Without knowing what had happened to her in that facility. Without knowing if she'd ever gotten better. She feared she would get worse before she got better.

She certainly wasn't going to spew on about honor this or honor that. She wasn't her brother. "They aren't killers. Not like us. They don't go out of their way to do it." She set her tea down on the desk, and leaned her elbow on it. "Either they wanted to rub our faces in it, or there was no message to send. I think walking through the floor is enough of one."

She smiled, her words carefully calculated and her mask firmly in place. "If it was me, it would be saying that I could go into their house and break all their toys, whenever I wanted."

Iroh digested that while he drank his tea. “If it was me, it would be because I had no message to send. They made their point clearly enough, as you pointed out.” Her point was correct too. They could do anything they wanted if they could walk through walls and survive a point blank shot to the head. “For this reason, I am recommending that Ozai make your suggestions his policy. We do not need the income from human trafficking when we could easily increase our drug trafficking with much less hassle. It’s easier to buy Coast Guards off when there are no pretty women at stake.” Iroh would be happy enough to let that business go. Not all traditions were worth preserving, and even now he could still be moved by the plight of those people. “If we unite in this cause, it may do better. Or perhaps my taking your side will only hurt our chances of getting what we want accomplished. It depends on how much your father holds his fallen brother in contempt.”

Even Iroh wasn’t sure how to play Ozai at the moment. He would find out in time, or die. Those were the only options when it came to his temperamental little brother. He wished he had not lost Lu Ten, that he’d listened to reason about Hong Kong. The past couldn’t be changed, and that was unfortunate.

Azula opened her mouth to protest, before she realized what he was actually saying. She recovered, brushing imaginary dust off of her shoulder. "The drug trade is more lucrative, and less likely to draw fantastic media attention. I've also got a man working on a slightly more legitimate cover. There are clubs we own in all but name, and the kickbacks from those will more than offset the loss. They'll also improve our image amongst potential clientele."

Iroh was right. Showing compassion would only mark them as weak. There had to be concrete business reasons for the moves.

“Cocaine doesn’t die or become undesirable or diseased. I believe we can get some numbers to support ourselves. It will be harder to shut down the brothels full of women we’ve imported, which I assume is also your goal.” He poured himself another cup of tea as he thought. “Losses are very low there, and they have not, as yet, been a target.”

"That could change," Azula replied. She shrugged a shoulder lazily, and picked up the teacup again. "We might have a man who had too much freedom while everyone was away. I'm sure he wants to keep some power for himself. We could use that."

He'd also killed three of the men she'd tasked to keep on eye on him and wrecked a bar in the process, but she wasn't going to say that.

“Hmmm.” Iroh said, smiling softly. “A tool like that is good to keep on hand. A good scapegoat, my dear, is truly the only insurance a careful person may need. You have grown up well, dear niece, This conversation has given me great hope for our family’s future.”

Azula returned the smile. "He's dangerous. And powerful in his way, but I can handle him. I can match him." It took all of her will power to not display why she was a match for this man. Iroh would find out eventually, but she wanted to be in a better position for it.

One of Iroh’s eyebrows went up, but he said nothing else. He drank his tea and set his cup down. “Will you join me for dinner sometime? I’d like to get to know you, and repay you for all the birthdays I missed being overseas.” He would never have another child of his own, so he thought it best to make sure he was in good graces with his brother’s children, if he could.

"You mean when you were-" She cut herself off her tone growing teasing. "Sure, Uncle. Dinner sounds good. If we're going out, we're taking my Mazda. I don't want to be seen in whatever car an old man like you drives."

She had almost mocked his work in Hong Kong, but had stopped herself, and recovered by mocking his car. Lame, Azula, Lame.

She couldn't even explain why she'd felt compelled to both hold back on the harsher words, and yet still have to mock the old man.

Iroh weathered her mocking with an even temper. “I have yet to purchase a car, actually. I have not been given a driver yet, so I feel my money is much better spent on cabs. I often telecommute, anyway. Coming into my office everyday would prove too taxing for an old man like myself.”

"You taught me to drive, why do you even need a driver?" Azula asked, probably answering that question in the process. She reached over to pour some more tea, then sniffed at the teapot. It was cold. She discreetly blew on it, before pouring herrself another cup, and setting it back down. It was now hot.

Iroh chuckled. “I think that’s why your father sent me home early that year. Are you still allowed to drive, Azula?” Paying off judges was one thing, but the attention would be unwelcome. “I prefer to take things a little easier, now that I am under my brother’s direct supervision.”

"No one's stopped me yet," Azula replied, rolling her eyes in a way that indicated she was still very much a teenager. She set her teacup down and got to her feet. "May I ask you a question before I go, Uncle?"

“Of course you may, but I may not answer.” He leaned forward, collecting her cup. It was still warm, how strange.

"Have you ever felt like something, or someone was missing from your life? Like there was a piece of yourself that you'd lost and haven't the faintest idea what it is?"

He made a low rumbling noise in his chest as he considered her question. “No. I have felt that hole in my life, where important things either should be or once were, but I knew the cause. I hope you are not feeling that way, Azula. It is difficult enough when it can be explained.” He wouldn’t push her to explain herself, but he wanted to know more about what she meant, and what she was like as a person.

"One hole closed," Azula said, absently running a hand up her arm. Her sleeve pushed up to reveal the flame tattoo and she rubbed at it. She'd designed it herself, after the Fire Nation symbol she'd seen so often in her dreams.

"The other still remains."

Iroh examined the tattoo. His whole torso was covered in them, but seeing one on Azula was strange to him. He almost spoke against it, but decided there was no point in disapproving. “I hope you find what you are looking for. It is difficult to live with holes in your heart, and you have a long time left to live with them.”

Her smile was briefly sad, before she wiped any expression off of her face, and clasped her hands behind her back. "Sometimes I wonder if it's best to just cauterize it and be done with it. And then I see who-what's missing when I sleep, and I know enough not to. Give me a call when you want to meet for dinner."

Azula started to walk away. As she did so, she tossed over her shoulder. "You should let Zuzu know you're in town. He's finally starting to grow up. Even caught himself a boyfriend."

Then she was out the door, and it swung shut behind her.

A boyfriend? Iroh thought about that for a moment or two. “Well, I am once again reminded how little I know about the world.” He chuckled, and began preparing another pot of tea. “Ah, children do keep us young. Father was right about that.”