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The crew of the Wani had come to realize that the highly regarded and feared General Iroh had a hidden side to him, a side which had been pointedly left from every military story describing the man as terrifying, warmongering, and ruthless. As such, he was gentler than anyone had expected, and more often than not could be found simply enjoying a cup of tea or sharing a game of pai sho with anyone who was willing.
That didn’t necessarily always make it easier to forget that he had been known to all as Dragon of the West, the relentless military leader who led the siege against Ba Sing Se for 600 days.
And right here, right now, Ruhong was definitely only thinking about the latter version of the man.
The crew had been enjoying a meal in the mess hall when the General had entered, unusually serious, and requested to make an announcement. It would have been totally fine if the announcement hadn’t been aimed directly at Ruhong.
“I appreciate that there is a culture amongst sailors,” the General spoke, eyes scanning the room, “but I must remind you all that we have aboard an impressionable young man who has not been previously exposed to… certain language.”
Ruhong felt his cheeks heat up, and he slid down further in his seat.
“All I ask is that, in the future, you please consider your words more carefully around my nephew,” the General finished, pursing his lips. He squinted, glaring around the room once more for good measure, before taking his leave.
Listen, okay, it was an accident.
Ruhong was the youngest member of the crew. At seventeen, he was a fresh-faced little baby compared to everyone else, and had to work ten times as hard to be treated with even the tiniest amount of respect. Except, as it turned out, with Prince Zuko.
The prince was the only one on the ship younger than him, and Ruhong discovered pretty quickly that that made him a super cool but approachable figure to the thirteen year-old. It was low-hanging fruit, he knew that. But after spending every day getting his hair mussed up by other crewmembers as they called him “kid,” Ruhong was desperate for any kind of respect.
He found himself below deck one day cleaning all the soldiers’ boots by himself (“Yours are the only hands small enough to really get into all the crevices, Ruhong!”), and he had been so focused on his work he hadn’t noticed the patter of footsteps behind him until a tap on his shoulder startled him out of it.
“Shit!” Ruhong yelled, tossing the boot he had been cleaning across the room. It hit the wall and fell to the floor with a wet plop. He looked up, ready to tell off whoever scared him, but froze when he saw it was the prince. Zuko’s cheeks were tinted pink, and he hurried over to retrieve the boot.
“Sorry,” he muttered, handing the boot over. Ruhong took it, feeling his heart hammer in his chest.
“It’s… fine,” he replied, awkwardly returning to his task. He wasn’t really accustomed to talking to kids, especially ones that were in charge of him and could probably order him to jump overboard if he so felt like it.
“So,” the prince started, clearing his throat, “what are you doing?”
Ruhong paused. Was that a trick question? He looked at the pile of dirty boots by his side, and the bucket of soapy water in front of him, and the brush in his hand. He looked up at the prince, but the kid looked pretty genuine.
“Cleaning everyone’s boots,” he answered with a shrug.
“Why?”
“Because they’re all fucking lazy.” It left his mouth before he could think about it, and Ruhong snapped his mouth shut immediately. Prince Zuko turned pink again, but was clearly trying to hide a smile. Oh. Ruhong held back his own smile. He remembered being thirteen.
“Do you… need help?” Zuko asked, and Ruhong almost said no, because asking the Crown Prince of the Fire Nation to help him clean dirty boots was probably some sort of crime. But then he thought about what it was like to be thirteen, and what that would have been like if he had been stuck on a ship with exactly zero kids his own age.
So instead he said, “Sure.” You know, like an idiot.
After a while of silently scrubbing together over the bucket (and wow, the prince had clearly never cleaned a thing in his life, because he was doing absolutely nothing but soaking himself in soapy water and spreading the dirt from the soles all over the boots), the kid finally spoke up out of boredom.
“So do they always make you do stuff like this?”
“All the shitty work? Yeah,” Ruhong replied, watching as the prince’s lips threated to turn up in a smile. “I swear to Agni, I don’t think any of these grown-ass adults know how to fucking take care of themselves. They can’t even clean their own damn boots,” he spat, and there it was. The prince ducked his head to hide it, but Ruhong could hear him giggling.
Yes, he knew he was really laying it on thick. He didn’t usually curse this much, but it was entertaining for the kid, so he thought, why not? He kept talking as they cleaned the boots, throwing out every curse he could remember as he told the prince about the dickhead crewmembers, the Agni-damned chores he had to do, even that cunt Meifeng and all the fucking bullmooseshit she made him do, that bitch. He figured, what was the harm?
Well.
General Iroh had left the mess hall, but the crew still sat there, looking around at each other with a mix of surprise and fear in their eyes. A soldier beside Ruhong chuckled and took a bite of his food.
“I’d hate to be the bastard who pissed him off, huh?” Ruhong forced a laugh and looked down at his food, suddenly very, very not hungry.
Earlier that day, Iroh went to visit his nephew, carrying a small tray with a steaming teapot and two small cups. Zuko was practicing his bending on the deck, as he had been nearly all day. Iroh set up a few meters away, setting everything down carefully and taking a seat. He watched for a few moments before calling out.
“Prince Zuko, you’ve been at it for hours,” he said, smiling. “Take a break and come share a cup of tea.”
“I don’t want any of your fucking tea, Uncle,” Zuko yelled back, fists clenched. “It tastes like shit!”
Iroh’s jaw dropped.
What?
What?
The old General blinked at his nephew, opening and closing his mouth several times, but found himself at a complete loss for words. He glanced over and saw a soldier nearby, her eyes very wide and pointedly looking away.
Prince Zuko went back to firebending practice, centering himself before punching out a particularly strong current of flame, accompanied by a loud and powerful, “FUUUUCK!”