Chapter Text
Mio had heard about Lu Ten's death directly from the general. It was no secret to the palace staff that she enjoyed a rather casual friendship with Crown Prince Iroh, based on a mutual love for tea, food and good company. Since she had been hired to work in the kitchens they always took some time every week to have a pai sho match, sometimes with Prince Lu Ten, sometimes by themselves. She had always held them both dear to her heart, although conscious of her place in the fire nation food chain and always maintaining a certain distance that Iroh would rather do away with. Well, that fateful day, he finally got his wish.
As soon as Prince Iroh had returned from Ba Sing Se, he had rushed the meeting with Fire Lord Azulon and locked himself in his private rooms. He had then called for an afternoon tea set for two, to be delivered by Mio and Mio alone. At this point, half the castle knew the most recent gossip: Prince Lu Ten was ten feet underground, killed brutally by earthbenders. However, Mio had been busy gathering supplies at the market and didn't pick up on the tense atmosphere when she got back to the palace (she was always quite obtuse in regard to social cues). So, it was with a certain happiness that she went to welcome Prince Iroh back to the palace, with their usual afternoon of tea and pai sho. Turns out, the afternoon was not as peaceful as she had hoped.
The room smelled like charred wood and the curtains were drawn with only a smear of light able to pass trough. What must have been Prince Iroh was huddled behind the bed, rocking back and forth, occasionally letting out grunts, cries or echoes of his dead son's name. Mio had never seen her friend in such a state and she was quick to assume the worst. Lu Ten was dead. The little boy she had babysat for Iroh countless times, the sweet prince that dreamed of ending the war and harboring an era of peace, the son who deeply loved his family (even the cruel parts of it), the little soldier who would not be marching home, nevermore. Tears gathered on her eyes. She took a deep breath and suppressed them. She would mourn later, for in front of her there was a father mourning his only child.
They spent what felt like hours on the ground, Mio cradling Iroh's head and singing soft lullabies to him (all songs she had sung to Lu Ten when he was young). Time crawled by unnoticed, echoes of grief floating out the window, a measly cook taking the sorrow of a prince in her weathered hands and vowing to never part with it, to hold it and carefully keep it with such care it could be made of glass.
When Agni was finally setting and the wind was cooling, she disentangled herself from the grieving man and picked up the long discarded tea and fire cakes and made him eat. Some measly bites later, Iroh's gaze went blank and his mouth stopped chewing. Well, at least he had some sugar and calming tea in him. Mio got herself together, cleaned up the plates, opened the windows and dropped a blanket around the prince.
"I'll be right back, dear, won't be more than ten minutes, okay?"
Iroh barely acknowledged her, only slightly glancing her way before staring out the now open window. Mio landed a soft kiss on his forehead and took the trays back out the door, leaving Prince Iroh catatonic and alone.
She speed walked down the palace, directing servants to draw up a bath for the prince and went on to prepare a light and easy dinner for her friend, something that could be easily reheated when he felt like eating. She landed on some miso soup and some meat and veggie stuffed buns, speed running the whole process, narrowly avoiding burning down the whole kitchen, and leaving out the door less than ten minutes from walking in.
She walked back to the royal apartments, opening the door without knocking, only to be faced with Prince Ozai holding a fire fist up to Prince Iroh's face. They seemed to be in a face down of sorts, neither moving, not even breathing. She hesitated at the door, before knocking and bowing lower than she had ever done.
"Your dinner, my Lord"
A beat passed where no one dared to move, followed by a hollow laugh by Ozai.
"Enjoy your dinner, brother" he said, looking down on Iroh and swiftly exiting the room. Probably to concote one of his evil schemes, Mio thought.
"Mio"
She snapped her attention on Iroh faster than lightning, suprised by the clarity in the man's voice. Now looking at him, she could see the curving posture and dried tear tracks, but his eyes were lucid and his expression was determined. What the hell happened in ten minutes to ignite his inner flame?
"Thank you, for everything"
"Oh please, old man, we're past that. You need help and I'm happy to offer it. Now, there's a drawn bath and dinner's ready. You must be tired from all the travel." Mio attempted to bring up the mood, she was terrible at heart to hearts or comforting people. That was her wife's specialty, not hers. She had been lucky Iroh had not been in a mood to talk earlier, because she definetly did not know what to say to grieving people (especially if she was grieving too).
"And the crying" the prince added, with a sad smile.
She nodded and turned to the table in the middle of the room, putting down the tray and going on to close the room's doors.
"Mio" Iroh called once more. "I have to go."
"Well yes" retorted the cook "the bath is getting colder and I know you can reheat it, but we both know it's not the same and..."
"Mio, you're rambling" he interrupted.
"My apologies"
"That's not what I meant and you know it"
"What did you mean, Iroh?"
Iroh sighed before casually disclosing state secrets to a mere cook. Ozai wanted the throne. Azulon punished him by ordering him to kill his first son (Lu Ten had always been the favorite, Zuko had always been the unwanted child). Prince Zuko (a child) was to die. His mother would not let it happen. Firelord Azulon would not see the light of day, Ursa would never watch her children grow, Iroh would never see the throne. All for the greed of one man and for the protection of a boy.
"So, you see, I have to leave the palace, I could not save my son, but my nephew shall live"
"What about your father?" Mio knew Iroh did not hate Azulon (a product of being the favorite child), but that did not change the fact that the man was a horrible person (and father).
"If he would gladly loose a grandson after the death of another, then he shall reap what he sowed."
A tense silence permeated the room. Mio knew the chances of ever seeing Iroh after that day were slim. Even if he was just traveling the world, he would still be a contender to the throne and Ozai would not want him in his palace.
"I am going to see Zuko in the morning, to give him the news... and say goodbye."
"You're not dead now, are you?" she abruptly said, facing Iroh with a fiery gaze. The man stuttered, not expecting a comeback of the sorts. "Then you better not say goodbye to that boy. You bid him farewell and give him a date of your return. And you better return Iroh, or I will scour the ends of this earth, bring down the might of Agni in the world to find you, I'll even go to the spirit world if you're dead!"
The prince nodded a little misty eyed and embraced his dear friend. Mio would never admit to it, but Iroh hugs were the best hugs.
"I promise I will return, Mio." He pulled back and looked around the room before spotting the pai sho board. "Will you play a last match with me?"
Mio glared at Iroh.
"Not last, old man, one more of many to come! And you are going to go have that bath first! Next we'll play, we'll dine, we'll drink and we'll sleep. You cannot go see your nephew without a good night's rest"
The former Crown Prince Iroh merely laughed while walking towards the bathing chambers. And Mio felt all the fight left in her vanish and the tears she had been holding come out all at once, heavily but silently. It would not do to let Iroh see her cry.
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It was morning. Mio got up as always, stretched her aking muscles, rubbed lotion on her stump, put her wooden leg in place and kissed her wife, Saori, goodbye. She took a slight detour from the usual way to the kitchens, stopping by the south gate shrine. The cook took her time lighting up some incense, turning to Agni and uttering a single prayer followed by a lullaby. That was her grief. That would be her respects for the child that was not her own, but had always been part of her home. Iroh had cried and whimpered and melted out of the person he once was. Saori had screamed and begged for the life of her god child. Mio prayed. And Mio sung. And then Mio went to work (with a missing child and her dearest friend half way to the earth kingdom already).
The kitchen was an absolute chaos when she walked in. Half the servants were gossiping, while the other half was obsessively preparing the funeral of the now late Firelord Azulon. The spirits worked fast but Ozai worked faster. Mio set her sights on the complicated sugar desserts for the post funeral noble feast, working the morning away, trying not to hear the gossipmongers buzzing all around her like bees in a flower field. She was probably the only servant that knew the full story, not even Saori knew the whole thing (she only knew of Lu Ten's death, she was completely inconsolable after that).
By noon, the kitchen was empty save for her. The servants had either been sent to the four corners of the palace for extensive funeral preparations or were on their lunch break. A welcomed peace settled over Mio, repeatedly sculpting sakura petals out of powdered sugar and water, feeling like a waterbender sculpting ice (she laughed over the blasphemous thought of waterbending in the fire palace). She was halfway done with a whole sakura tree sculpture, when the kitchen doors were recklessly thrown open by none other than her boss, Koji, the castle's head of staff. His grumpy ass was accompained by a small boy, somewhere between ten and twelve years old, with shiny golden eyes. Mio was astonished by the golden molten lava eyes, until she realised the shine came from unshed tears and not some supernatural glow. She barely had time to stutter a greeting, before Koji dumped the child on her and powerwalked out of the kitchen without ever directing a word in her direction. The boy blinked owlishly at her, before the unshed tears in his eyes started to drip out of them. Flabbergasted and horrified by a crying child, Mio directed him to a chair and very softly asked for his name.
"Zuko" he said between sniffles.
Zuko, son of prince Ozai. Blessed Agni, the day before had been hard enough. It was just like the spirits to send her the problem child with the recently upheaveled life. Like her own didn't have enough problems.