Focused Fire (ATLA)

Keeping up with the news from the southern campaign would’ve been amusing if it wasn’t for the fact that Xing and the 11th Regiment were involved. The initial bright announcements of victories had slowly petered out to nervous murmurings of a stalled advance. Nobody wanted to spit out the truth and declare the campaign effectively dead, and that the ‘tactical withdrawal’ of the First Assault Army was in truth a shattered rout.

Not even Azula was that daring to try.

Only the wild gossip about Xing’s feat gave the whole crushing defeat a glimmer of hope, even as a baseless rumor. A young colonel facing off against the very threat that Fire Lord Azulon had purposely avoided, that part of the story was consistent. The outcome though varied, from Xing beating off the king of Omashu at the cost of his limbs, to the Mad King crushing the colonel into a pulp before withdrawing out of respect of his valiant foe.

The only thing consistent about them was that every result made Azula’s gut churn with worry. The best outcome for Xing was one where he forced King Bumi to leave the field, but was rendered unconscious as a result. That, or the one where the king broke a few bones before fleeing due to his own grievous wounds.

Whatever version of the duel, none of the damned tales put Xing in a good condition after the fight.

Azula was most certainly not angry at that, only mildly irritated that her colonel almost got himself killed. 

Some courtiers tried to ‘be realistic’ about the news. Where did the news come from? Perhaps it was a case of mistaken identity, maybe it was just a strong earthbender that the young colonel fended off? It would be easy enough in the chaos of battle to mix up identities, or for a champion to declare himself under a different name out of arrogance.

Or perhaps it was indeed King Bumi, but Colonel Xing managed to fight until his opponent had to concede due to old age and the failing health that came along with it?

The latter was immediately shot down, with the airheaded courtier that suggested it was silently stared down by the generals. Azula found herself smirking as her father ordered the shaking man dragged out.

“We have no use for the willfully ignorant.”

Still, the point remained that Xing’s accomplishment was heavily doubted. Until a messenger came a week later, bearing a scroll with the seal of Omashu. The princess grinned vindictively as the unfortunate messenger had to read its contents aloud to the Fire Lord and the royal court. He did a good job of keeping a steady voice, despite his trembling and growing paleness.

“To the Fire Lord of the Fire Nation, whoever you are. Let it be known that I, King Bumi of the state of Omashu, have not taken kindly to your renewed trespass. If you continue to push the issue, you will greatly annoy me, and I will be forced to be serious. Leave. Now.”

The messenger gulped and paused for a second before resuming. “H-However, if you can find the young commander that actually made me work a bit, tell him he’s invited for dinner, and a rematch. Not necessarily in that order. I’ll need a list of allergies if he has any. For the dinner, not the rematch. Bumi, King of Omashu.”

Azula had to consciously snap her jaws close after hearing that, while the courtiers and generals were all in varying degrees of worry as the doubts of Xing facing the loony king had been effectively dispelled. Her father was quietly fuming behind the curtain of flames, but thankfully did not take it out on the messenger.

“It seems…there is truth to the rumors,” he understated with simmering restraint. “Still, we will have to investigate the truth behind Colonel Xing’s duel with Omashu’s unhinged king.”

After a trio of generals bowed to promise they’d do just that, Azula stepped forward to test the waters.

“Father, it might be prudent if we pause the campaign south for now.”

She felt his attention fix onto her, though it held more curiosity than outrage. The princess stood straighter, presenting an arrogant confidence that would help her case a bit more. “It is better to admit that we were caught off guard now…” She avoided ‘defeat’ and other such words. “...and learn from the new approaches taken by the Earth Kingdom, than to continue playing the fool in whatever plan they have concocted..”

The silence was thick with tension, with only the crackling of flames tainting it. “Go on, daughter.”

Azula smirked as she glanced back to the sweating courtiers and frowning generals. “The Earth Kingdom has stepped up their game, so we will need to do the same.” She turned back to the silhouette of her father and bowed slightly. “The campaign south need not be aborted, father, merely put on hold as new stratagems are created. We’ve already made more gains than grandfather did, with some time and refining, I’m sure we can take the south as you want.”

A thought came to her, and the princess quickly drew from her strategic lessons from Xing. “In the meantime, we should have the forces on that front poke at the Earth Kingdom lines, to convince them that we are eager to continue pushing. It might likely cause them to further reinforce the lines, drawing forces from other regions. If we subtly pull away our own forces from the southern lines, we can assault and claim other regions without having to worry much about potential reinforcements.”

She turned to the side to catch the discreet gazes of several generals, particularly the High Generals in her father’s war council. Most were pondering her proposal, and General Bujing eventually spoke. “The plan has merit, Fire Lord. Draw the enemy’s attention south, while we focus on the states to the east, away from Omashu. If we quickly conquer the lands of the allies reinforcing Omashu’s defenses, it would likely damage their cohesion as they worry about their homes.”

“And once that starts, the chaos in the enemy lines would allow us another chance at resuming the march for Omashu,” Azula added, making it clear she was not implying that her father’s plan was a failure by any stretch.

General Wulong nodded his approval at the idea. “Make them think we are committed, but quickly take advantage of the less secured territories. It would take some refining, but the princess’ idea holds potential, Fire Lord.”

It was a shame Zuko was not here to see how Azula turned the High Generals to her side and let her lord it over him. She’d have to settle for the satisfaction of having her father’s silhouette nod behind the wall of fire. “Once more, you prove yourself to be better than your brother, Azula. We will see to the merits of your idea, and if it truly holds potential, we will use it.”

“Thank you, father.”

“I assume you would prefer your pet regiment be assigned away from the south?”

Azula bowed again, a little deeper than before. “Considering that they are overdue for a rotation out of combat, I would request for the 11th Regiment to be at least allowed to recuperate and resupply in Zilang for a few months. It would also allow for an easier investigation into the matter of Xi- Colonel Xing’s supposed encounter with the Mad King.”

“Yes, it will,” came her father’s slow reply. He directed his next words to everyone but Azula. “Have the 11th be reassigned to rest. Also look into the merits they might have gained during this whole…event. The regiment deserves some commendation for taking the initiative and leading their lesser comrades back to safety.”

The pressure of the Fire Lord’s gaze settled on Azula once more, this time filled with amusement and satisfaction. “I will leave the fates of the failures in the First Assault Army in your hand, Azula. After all, their incompetence had endangered your regiment.”

“Thank you, father. I’ll be sure to put them to good use.”

First thing’s first though, Azula would have to glean and clarify as much information as she could before bringing it to Ren. The pregnant captain could then help Azula figure out the right kind of punishments for those who actually made Xing’s job harder. 

*****

Despite the gradual change in his niece, Iroh still held some trepidation at her advice to make landfall in the colony of Zilang. “Wait for Xing,” was all she had said, and admittedly the old prince only persuaded his nephew to stick around out of the trust he held for the young colonel, rather than that he held for Azula.

The governor had been warm in his welcome at least, and made the stay comfortable enough despite the lackluster tea service. Iroh also used the time to carefully feel out for any old acquaintances that might be lurking around, though to no success. 

What he did find though was that the people of Zilang were very loyal to the Fire Lord and his daughter. Especially his daughter. Surprisingly, Azula was very well received in the colony, even discounting the reputation she picked up from favoring the 11th Regiment. Governor Dae was happy to speak of how she had redirected a rather sizable investment from the home islands to develop the town.

Having the 11th’s colonial barracks built here also increased the colony’s prestige and drew in more business. And supposedly Azula had sponsored the construction of schools and hospitals, not only in Zilang but throughout the colonies in general.

Even if she declared it was to ensure the quality of future recruits to the 11th, Iroh had to admit she was taking the right, effective steps towards at least showing benevolence. She was making an effort to leave a positive impact, and there was none of the callousness or hidden sadistic agenda that Iroh knew the younger Azula carried in spades.

Truly amazing. And all it took was for a child soldier to…challenge her, supposedly. Or advise her. Zuko was not too sure about that either.

Regardless, Iroh felt even more indebted to young Xing, and looked forward to meeting him once more. 

As they waited, the two princes kept an ear out for current events, particularly Ozai’s reckless push towards Omashu. As expected, the Earth Kingdom recovered and dealt a punishing blow to force a ‘careful withdrawal’. And then came the excited whispers that not only had Zilang’s heroes, the 11th Regiment, survived almost wholly intact, but that they had led many survivors out of certain doom.

Iroh took some effort to pick his jaw up when he heard of Xing actually causing Bumi to turn away.

Bumi, the so-called Mad King who had flattened whole divisions by himself. The cackling earthbender who had a penchant for unpredictability and unorthodox methods that paired very well with his overwhelming earthbending. The king who had scared Iroh’s father so badly that Omashu had been unmolested until now.

Xing actually fought against him, and survived.

“Is he truly that strong, uncle?” Zuko had asked in a raspy half-whisper.

Iroh nodded gravely. “King Bumi is the strongest earthbender alive. As brilliant as young Xing is, Bumi has decades of experience in keeping the Fire Nation away and fighting firebenders. Xing shouldn’t have stood a chance.”

“If that’s the case, why was Xing allowed to walk away?”

Why indeed. What did loony Bumi see in Xing? Did he happen to know…?

“Let us hope I am wrong, and Xing is much more talented than we expected him to be.”

They had to wait another week and a half before the 11th came marching into Zilang, weary but proud. After all, the regiment had been commended by the Fire Lord despite the poor results of the First Assault Army, and no defeat had been officially declared yet.

Using a little bit of royal prerogative, Iroh and Zuko met them at their barracks’ entrance. Their reaction was near-instant and gratifying. Xing practically slipped off his mount and dropped to his knee, the officers behind him doing the same and the whole marching column coming to a halt.

“Prince Iroh. Prince Zuko.” Announcing their presence in a clear, sharp voice, Xing saluted formally, and the whole column behind him followed suit, causing a rolling crash of armored knees hitting the ground to briefly fill the air. Iroh was glad that the respect shown had an encouraging effect on Zuko. Despite the pain, the prince did his best to stand regally straight, and wore a genuine smile as he regarded Xing.

“Colonel Xing.” Zuko managed to bring his voice above a raspy whisper. “I heard you’ve been up to a lot.”

“Most likely exaggerated, Prince Zuko.” There was an awkward pause from the colonel before he continued. “I am…sorry for what-”

“It’s nothing,” Zuko interrupted, a bit tersely. “What’s done is done.”

“Come, rise,” Iroh cut in, before things accidentally escalated. “Your soldiers are better on their feet than on their knees. And I’m sure they could use the rest.”

As the 11th filed into their bunks, Xing joined the princes in his office. The boy’s tea was acceptable enough. 

“I’m glad you have both taken the time to meet us,” the colonel began.

“Azula sent us,” Zuko immediately croaked, causing the other boy to blink in surprise. “She said you might be able to help us.”

Xing was silent for a few thoughtful seconds. “It is the Fire Lord’s decree that no aid can be rendered to your highness’ quest if it draws from the war effort,” he said carefully, and Iroh saw his nephew start to deflate.

“However…” Xing got up and gestured politely for them to follow him. “If you’ll follow me, your highnesses.”

“Where are we going?”

The colonel did not answer Iroh, but from the way his back shifted, the prince imagined him either smiling or grinning. Some whispered orders and hand signals were sent to soldiers along the way, causing them to quickly run off. 

The princes were led through a fenced off section, and Xing ushered them in and brought them into a meager wooden structure. It looked like a small hall of sorts, though the floor was littered with several bed rolls, and barrels of water placed along the walls.

Zuko gave an impatient look, while Iroh still tried to puzzle out what Xing had in store for them. “If you’ll just wait for a moment,” was all the colonel had to say.

Then the door opened again, and in stepped a worn face that Iroh had not expected to see in a while.

“General Yama?”

“You fat fart! So you’re ali-” the earthbender immediately replied, but was interrupted by a smack to the temple by an elderly Water Tribe woman. “Mind your manners, mudbrain.” Behind them, several more people in Water Tribe attire entered the hall. All of them save for prickly Yama gave a polite bow.

Xing bowed as well, with a hint of theatrics in his movements. “Prince Zuko, Prince Iroh, may I present General Yama of Ba Sing Se, Elder Kilin of the Southern Water Tribe, and her fellow waterbenders of the 11th Regiment.”

Zuko snapped a glare at Xing. “What is the meaning of this?”

The colonel straightened and offered a lazy smile. “The regiment can be argued to be prohibited from aiding you, Prince Zuko. However, I cannot claim to have full command or responsibilities of my rowdy prisoners if you were…somehow left alone with them.”

“What?”

Xing ignored the young prince and gave the waterbender named Kilin a nod. “I’ll be outside the gates.”

The woman gave a smirk as she nodded, and then turned her gaze at Zuko. “Right boy. On the floor, now. Uki, here’s your chance to meet a pretty boy.”

“I don’t-”

Kilin slipped into a rolling stance, and the barrels around the hall shuddered as water flew out of them to crash against Zuko. Before Iroh could act, Yama placed a calloused hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, the boy’s going to be fine.”

“What is going on?” Iroh had to ask, utterly confused.

“Hag and her folks are healers.”

Oh. Oh. That made some sense now.

“Brat’s asking a favor from us in a stupid convoluted way to keep his hands clean.”

Iroh couldn’t help but smile at that. Off to the side, Zuko was being manhandled by men and women, and only calmed down once the water wreathing him began to glow.

“‘Us’, general? What are you supposed to do?”

General Yama snorted as he nodded to a tea set in the corner of the hall. “Dumb fart, who else here knows how to brew Black Laogai tea?”

Iroh’s smile grew wider, and he spent the evening with the crass Earth Kingdom general, enjoying excellent tea and an enlightening game of Pai Sho.

Zuko calmed down enough to accept the temporary ‘imprisonment’ for the next few days while Xing ‘lost the keys’ to the prison grounds. The bedding was comfortable enough, compared to a ship’s quarters, and the company was quite tolerable. 

They left four days later, with Zuko being able to walk straighter, his voice cleared of any rasp, and the damage to his lungs and the rest of his body almost completely removed. 

Only the massive scar on his chest remained, partly because he had vehemently insisted on it, and also because the waterbenders agreed that it looked good on him.

“I apologize for holding you for too long, your highnesses. I hope you’ve not been too discomforted?”

“None at all,” Zuko answered with a deep, grateful bow. “Thank you, colonel. I will remember this.”

“I hope your vengeance isn’t too harsh, Prince Zuko.”

Iroh chuckled while his nephew snorted in amusement. “Thank you, Xing. Send my thanks to Azula as well.”

“Of course, Prince Iroh. As I cannot host you any further without risking censure, I wish you two the best.”

They returned to Zilang, and Iroh had the chance to both feel gratitude to his niece and the interesting young Xing, as well as regret not being able to make the time for either of them before this. Perhaps after this, once he had the chance…

For now though, Prince Iroh would help his nephew begin his impossible quest in earnest, and failing that, perhaps he could mellow Zuko out enough to teach him some Pai Sho.