Focused Fire (ATLA)

A servant led the curious guest into the main hall, and Prince Iroh found himself looking at a boy Zuko’s age who was well dressed and a bit too stiffly upright. The retired general immediately realized with sorrow that the boy was a soldier. Was he a conscript, or, hopefully, just a messenger?

“Welcome, boy. What can I do for you?”

The boy snapped a bow and a sharp salute, and Iroh hid a wince. Definitely not a messenger boy. But he didn’t recall his brother having to scrape the barrel for recruits…

“Prince Iroh, it is an honor to meet you. I am Colonel Xing, of the 11th Regiment.”

The 11th? Iroh’s eyes widened a bit as he remembered…

“You are Lidai’s ‘grandson’?”

Even with his lowered face, it was clear that the boy was smiling. “I am glad that he considers me so highly.” Xing rose up from his bow. “I am sorry to impinge on your time, but I have come to deliver the…late colonel’s wishes to you.”

Iroh watched as the much-too-young colonel retrieved a small silken pouch from his belt and reverentially offered it to him. He glanced at the container briefly, and then turned his attention to Xing. “Do you know what’s in it?”

“I’ve seen the contents, but I’ve not been told of their significance.” For a moment, Iroh thought he detected a half-truth, but he let it pass. He received the silk package with care, and untied it to have a peek within.

There was a bronze badge, one that commemorated their friendly rivalry. Also within were a few gold pieces. Iroh smiled softly as he remembered his thrifty friend’s little debt to him, now repaid. His smile faded as he found just hidden under the pile of gold a small object. Iroh reached in to retrieve it with his index and middle fingers.

“Ah, Lidai…” he muttered as he stared at the white lotus tile, and then glanced up at Xing who was doing a good job of not paying attention to him. Dropping the tile back in the sack and then putting it aside, Iroh’s smile returned as he regarded his friend’s protege. “Come, have a seat. I’ll call for some tea.”

Xing hesitated for a second before nodding, and then joined the prince by a small table. He seemed a bit apprehensive in his steps, as if he was worried about causing undue offense. Peculiar, but considering that this Xing was supposed to be a rescued colonist, perhaps he was being overly worried about noble etiquette.

“We’ve not had the chance to communicate much while he was on campaign, but Lidai has told me many great things about you,” Iroh said, trying to ease the boy. The tea arrived, but neither made a move for it. 

Xing’s smile was sad, one that clearly showed his attachment to the old colonel. “He and his regiment took me in, I owe him a great deal.”

“And now you’ve taken up his mantle,” the prince replied without judgment. “I’ve heard some of the tragedy that befell your regiment. I’m sure Lidai would be proud of all you’ve accomplished to keep his command.”

For a moment, a fathomless fury flashed through Xing’s eyes. “We lost many good men and women to the petty games of some nobles,” he stated bluntly. “All I’ve managed to do was salvage just enough to not disgrace his legacy.” 

This time Iroh did cringe, remembering Lidai’s troubles. He was the leader of the dwindling faction of so-called ‘soft leaders’, whose existence Iroh once found contemptuous right up until Ba Sing Se. Yet his achievements on the front lines ensured that they remained beyond most direct politicking, which was why someone (or some ones) eventually resorted to slowly redirecting supplies from Lidai’s 11th Regiment in the hopes of bleeding him to a failure.

According to the communications he received before Lidai passed, Xing was the reason the 11th lasted as long as they did. The way Lidai praised his ‘grandson’ at times made Iroh think that the old coot had forgotten about his own family back home.

Family that had lost much.

That sobering thought brought out a sigh from the aging prince. “It is partially my fault,” he muttered sadly. “I’d been a bit too…blind in my ambitions, back when I was crown prince.” Iroh regretfully told the boy who now wore a stoic mask and did not meet his gaze. “It was a mistake to make light of his ideals, and not intervene when his rivals conspired against him…”

Xing gulped silently before he replied. “Colonel Lidai…did not begrudge you that. You are his friend. He has no ill will towards you, or any of those who wronged him.”

Iroh did not miss the wording, and gazed at the boy wearily. “But you do?” he asked gently.

The colonel’s shoulders rose up in his seat as he drew in a breath, and then slumped as he exhaled softly. “I…am trying not to. As he wished me to.”

Heavy silence fell as Iroh studied the boy. Finally he said, “Lidai would be proud of you.” He bent over in a deep bow. “And I thank you for making the effort, though I understand if you still harbor resentment for my inaction. I know that words alone would never be enough.”

Xing shook his head before rising to his feet. “I will get over it. To do otherwise would be…petty of me.”

It was hard not to admire the boy. So much different in temperament to the ‘soft’ Lidai, yet he still tried to keep to his mentor’s ideals. Iroh looked at the conflicted boy who was about to leave, and decided to try to make amends for indirect harm he’d caused his late friend and his young successor.

“Must you leave so soon?” he ventured. “The tea is still warm. Perhaps you can tell me more of Lidai’s exploits. Our exchanges were infrequent.” On seeing Xing wavering, Iroh threw in, “I’ll trade you stories of his time as my senior. Did you know he almost made my brother laugh one time?”

That seemed to have done the trick, as the boy gave him a faint smile. “I would like that, I thank you for your time, prince Iroh.”

“Please, I don’t have much else to do anyway. Come, come, try the tea while it’s still warm. It’s a new blend.” They soon exchanged tales about old Lidai, and all the while Iroh listened attentively to the young Xing. Eventually, he decided to trust his friend’s judgment and pose the question.

“By the way, did Lidai ever teach you Pai Sho?”

*****

With the colonel away on various frustratingly necessary social visits, and Mozi busy with logistics, Ren ended up in a bitching group with her fellow captains during their lunch break. Outside, the lieutenants were overseeing the battered intake, making sure that the prospective recruits were still breathing. 

“These city slickers…” she moaned out as she leaned back on her seat’s back legs.

Weikong made a harsh noise, feigning a spit. “Too soft, too ambitious, too stupid. Useless fucks.”

“Tell me about it,” Ren replied. “It’s taking so much time getting them to learn our spear drills.”

Kai gave a disgruntled nod, scowling all the while. “And their squad tactics… I swear it’s safer to separate our vets from the newbies or either the former’s going to murder the latter, or the latter’s going to get the former killed.”

Ping gave a sad chuckle after gulping down her bowl of tea. “And we haven’t gotten to night training yet.”

That earned a collective groan from the captains. The prospect of getting Fire Nation soldiers to operate and fight in the 11th’s preferred methods were arduous indeed.

“Who wants to bet that there’ll be whining about setting camp in the dark?” Weikong offered with a weak grin.

Rufen waved it off. “No bet. The few recruits we had to train back then were already struggling, and they were from the colonies. This spoiled bunch would be worse.”

Weikong snickered. “What about the number of times it’ll take before they know how to correctly form up in the dark?”

“Fuck off, Weikong,” Ren sighed.

“Well, it could be worse,” Kai said, drawing everyone’s curious attention. “We could be doing Koshi’s work.” 

Ren snorted at that. The ‘lucky’ fucks who sought the prestigious job of honor guard were being pushed hard by the lieutenant, who seemed determined to create bodyguards that could stand and bounce off earthbender rocks. Ren could understand why though; nobody in the regiment would stand to see Xing being covered in arrows and earthen spikes ever again if they could help it. Koshi particularly seemed to have taken that sentiment to heart, mostly because it was his life Xing had saved during Tai Plains. How the wannabes were still in one piece was a mystery to everyone.

“True that,” Ping voiced, and then giggled. “Or you could be in the Han unit.”

More groans rose up at the mention of Xing’s pet project. He definitely had some whimsical reason to have a unit comprised only of soldiers named Han, but like many other acts of whimsy, nobody else will likely ever understand the colonel’s inside joke. Not that they were given any leniency in their training. If anything, Xing’s personal involvement might see half the unit drop out. For their sakes, Ren hoped the Han recruits all abandoned their prestigious posting before the colonel started training them.

Speaking of the colonel, the captains perked up as they heard ever urgent strides of their colonel approaching. True enough, the door to the officers’ mess hall opened and Xing appeared. He looked a little tired, but also a little less tense.

Ren rose up at the same time as Kai, and both raced to be the first. The bastard tossed his tea bowl at her face, but Ren ducked without breaking her stride. In retaliation the woman hurled her tea bowl straight at his ankles, though Kai was skilled enough to avoid it. It boiled down to speed and determination then, but unfortunately for both of them Xing raised a hand and threw a disapproving frown at both captains before they could tackle him.

“No. And stop breaking public property.” 

They skidded to a halt, just an arm’s length from Xing. Ren took a glance at the position of their toes, hers were definitely closer to Xing. She threw a quick smirk of triumph at a glowering Kai before the colonel spoke up again.

“You two, clean up your mess before the break’s over.”

“Yes colonel,” they both replied laconically.

Xing walked towards a free chair (Kai’s spot before the race, much to Ren’s chagrin) and sat in it, sighing aloud as he stared up at the ceiling.

“Long day with the nobles?” Rufen guessed.

“No, just…just had a friendly visit with Prince Iroh.”

“Oh,” every captain replied at once.

Ren slowly walked over, ready to offer a comforting hug. “How was it?”

“I didn’t hit him.”

Small smiles broke out amongst the officers. “That’s good,” Kai said. “Colonel Lidai would approve.”

“It’s…hard to dislike him,” Xing said. “And they were really friends…” The boy’s gaze finally left the ceiling and turned to the captains. “He also offered some useful contacts. A few smiths in Fire Fountain City, some merchants and dockmasters throughout the kingdom…”

“Well, it’s good to know we have some backup to our supplies,” Ren offered as she walked behind Xing and draped her arms around his neck reassuringly. “You did good, Xing.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Xing drawled before he suddenly took on a more uncertain pose.

“Something wrong?” Ren asked as she gently rested her chin on his head. She saw him fiddle with something in his belt’s pouch. A gift of apology from the Dragon of the West?

“Not really, but… Did any of you know that Colonel Lidai was good at Pai Sho?”

The captains exchanged puzzled glances before they shook their heads. “I’ll have to ask Mozi and Koshi, but I’m sure I never saw him with a set, or even play with the prisoners,” Kai answered. “Why do you ask?”

Ren could feel the boy frown from the way his head shifted under her chin. “It’s nothing. Nothing important. According to Prince Iroh, he and the colonel were avid players long ago. They tried playing again by exchanging messages…”

“How good was the colonel?” Rufen asked, breaking the silence before it could settle awkwardly.

Ren could hear her little brother’s smile as he nodded and replied. “Quite good. Supposedly the colonel taught the prince a few things.”