#this is *its* vessel. it will not give it back to azulon's spawn.

[discordiansamba]

Iroh truthfully does not know what to expect when he arrives on Ember Island. Lady Ursa's letter to him was clearly written hastily, as if she did not have time to dwell on her words... but its contents were enough that he cut his quest to find a way to the spirit world short and hurried home. He could not dwell on those gone when the living still needed him.

(Even if they were completely, utterly, irreplaceable.)

The servants who greeted him had pale, ashen faces. They looked uncertain about letting him in, but Iroh did not let them refuse him entry. He wasted no time in asking after Zuko, and the servants hurriedly told him that the boy was unwell, and was not taking visitors at the moment. Please, if he could just leave-

Iroh did not listen to them.

He knew where to find Zuko's room, and made his way there. He arrived to find the doors bolted shut, as if they had locked the young prince inside. A sense of foreboding crept down the retired general's spine, but he set himself to the task of removing the lock. He swung the door open- but sensed the prudence of closing it behind him.

The first thing that greeted him was the odor.

Then it was the sound.

It was a low, rumbling growl- Iroh followed its source until his eyes landed on his nephew. He did not recognize the boy at first- and he suspected that the feeling was likely mutual. He had made a nest for himself out of torn blankets in one corner of the room, a pair of wings that could only belong to a dragon splayed in a fashion meant to intimidate. His face was morphed into a snarl, fangs bared as he crouched low.

(He did not need the gashes in the walls and the furniture to know how dangerous the claws his nephew had grown were.)

Ursa's letter had informed him that Zuko's body had been taken by a vengeful spirit. She had not mentioned that the spirit was a dragon.

Iroh drew in and let out a deep breath to steady himself. First, he needed to determine if his nephew was still in there. He bowed to the dragon, low and respectful, keeping his voice perfectly level as he greeted it. It watched him warily from his nephew's eyes- it did not cease its growling, but its posture relaxed somewhat.

Then Iroh sat on the floor and waited.

The dragon watched him closely- it stayed away at first, but eventually, it slowly rose. It stalked around him in a circle, its movements awkward, still unused to having a human vessel. Iroh let it draw closer on its own pace, letting it grow used to his presence. It sniffed at him, growling low in its throat once it did.

Iroh kept his breathing steady, and did not allow himself to be intimidated.

Eventually it drew close, mere inches away from his face. Iroh slowly lifted a hand, making sure to telegraph every move. He placed it carefully on the dragon's stolen face, his fingers brushing over the patch of scales that had overtaken the left half of his nephew's face.

The dragon went still.

"Zuko," Iroh spoke, "-do you remember me? I am your Uncle Iroh. You used to sit with me by the turtleduck pond and drink tea."

The dragon's brow furrowed, searching his face. It reached out a hand, mimicking Iroh's action. He let it stroke his cheek, even as its claws drew thin cuts across his face. It leaned forward, sniffing him again, before it stared up at him like it did not know what to do with itself.

"Un...cle?"

"Yes," Iroh said, "-your uncle."

"Uncle," the dragon repeated, a glimmer of recognition in his eyes, "-uncle."

Iroh let out a long breath as his nephew threw himself at him. His claws dug into his back, but Iroh ignored the pain and returned the embrace. It did not matter- he could treat his injuries later. Far more important was the fact that his nephew was still with them, buried deep under the dragon that had taken his body.

He could not help Lu Ten... but he could help Zuko.