milliways_bar | (no subject)

And her attention is paid off, though Wells' lack of might bite him in the ass when she gets up to bounce over to her boy, and whine piteously. Oh, she hasn't seen him for days and he wasn't doing well then and he's not now.

Paler then normal and lacking his usual heat, Zuko comes over to sit by the fire, on another couch, and says, "... s' a popular seat over here."

That is not an apology, or even a lead into one. He is Not Speaking Of What Transpired Earlier.

Wells is a man and a soldier, and so is Zuko. He didn't expect an apology. SOme things are best not spoken of.

"Always did like it, myself," says Wells quietly. "It was this or the fire-pit I've got outside, tonight."

He glances up and over at the younger man, frowning a little. Something's off here.

Xu Ning knows it too, which is why she's got her head in his lap. He's cold, too cold! is the keening whine. If she didn't know her place, she'd be in his LAP trying to force furry body heat on him.

Zuko just rubs her ears, and looks at her with pale eyes. No arguments or anger today. Just... tired.

It's harder to get clear scents here; the fire interrupts most of the smells with its own. Still, Wells knows Zuko's look well enough, and there is the dog's testimony, too. "What's the matter?" he asks quietly. "Y'look like hell."

"S'nothing. Just a cold. They happen." Zuko says.

Downplaying it? Weakness? Always.

"Not to you," Wells points out. "When'd you eat last?"

"...earlier? Today?" ...he thinks? e

"Mmm." Wells sinks down in his chair. "Sleep all right last night?"

This really doesn't look right at all to him, but if he asks in any more detail, or gets up to get a better smell, the kid's going to bark at him and pull away.

"...uhm," yeah this is where things get awkward. "... got woke up. Somebody needed a-- hand. Ended up crashing with me."

... The fact he doesn't blush too hard is-- telling. Not so much happened. But he's still pink-cheeked.

Up go the eyebrows. "That so?" he says.

It goes against twenty-five years' worth of soldiering experience and generations of working-class instinct not to launch into teasing the hell out of the young man. This is not the time for that.

Though he does get the look.

"Anybody I know?" is all he says instead.

Zuko sinks a little into his chair.

"You know... Rachel?" he asks, peering. "Red hair? Green eyes?" Lithe and muscular, scarred but that's okay by him, has a tattoo over one eye? Hot as hell?

"Can't say I do, but that doesn't mean much," says Wells after some thought. "Think I've seen a woman answering to that description a few times around here, though, so all right."

There's a pause.

"It's contagious, then?"

"...what's contagious?" he asks, blinking. "What I've got? Ah-- no, it's--"

Something else entirely. "It's a Firbender thing."

Boy this probably doesn't help this conversation, does it?

"Ah," says Wells, nodding. He doesn't know how it works, and he doesn't need to. Asking Zuko to explain would probably be like asking him to describe what happens to his color vision when he changes.

"She all right now, then?"

"I think so, yeah," Zuko says, scratching at the back of his neck.

Wells nods, considering the boy- sorry, young man- for a while.

"Gonna look for her again?" he asks eventually.

Zuko looks away, and considers what happened the night before. Nothing had been said, really -- about it. Was that a 'I accept, but don't return'? or -- was it something else? He...

...he didn't think he wanted to dig to deep.

"I don't think I need to go looking for her," he says after a moment, glancing aside. "If-- she needs me, she'll find me."

"She might not object to being looked for," says Wells. "Girls often don't."

He doesn't know the situation. That's as much as he's willing to say, just for the moment.

Zuko huffed a breath out slightly, and then says, "I don't think it works that way, Wells."

Not for him, anyway.

"No?" says Wells. "Never know until you try. She already trusts you some, or she wouldn't've let you help."

"Maybe," he says. Or maybe it's just --

No, he -- can't bring himself to think that about Rachel. She's sought him out, lifted him up. She... does trust him, doesn't she? They-- mean something to each other, don't they?

... he doesn't have any answers for those questions, and so he sighs, and just pets his dog. Xu Ning is happy for it, but he's not so invested.

Wells might say any number of things here. But like he said, he doesn't know the girl, and he doesn't know the situation. And the last thing he wants just now- though you'll have a devil of a time getting him to admit it- is to give Zuko a real reason to hate him.

So instead he just nods, and gestures to one of the rats to bring him a no-booze Smoking Mountain for the kid. Looks like he could use it.

The rats comply.

Zuko dogpets.

And the rats bring the drink. "Thanks," is all he says. Normally, he'd be pleased. But-- today? He's not all that .... hot for anything.

Iroh noticed, and it alarmed him.

He'd been intending to give Zuko his space, but instead, he came forward, worried.

"Zuko, what happened? Your spark..."

Wells looks up sharply, and over at Zuko, but says nothing. After all, this is a Firebender thing.

"I'm fine, uncle," Zuko says, petting the dog. And he is fine. Really. He's just psychically torked a little is all, and for a nontelepath, it's... not the best.

Xu Ning looks up at Iroh. Fix him? SHE knows somsething's wrong.... course, only Wells can translate.

"The dog disagrees, Zuko," says Wells quietly. "She knows you better than any of us."

Iroh took Zuko's hands in his own to warm them.

"Your fire has burned out. Your breath is exhausted--have you been training too hard?"

"No, uncle," Zuko says as the old man breeches all propriety and takes the boy's hands in his own. He draws away, giving Iroh a Look. Don't fuss, old man.

But he isn't explaining, either; it happened with Rachel, and-- he doesn't want-- to say that. He doesn't want to explain what happened, or what he did, because the might say what else happened...!

Wells' eyes narrow; there's far too much distress in the air-

"Zuko," he says, "if you don't tell him, I will."

"No," Iroh said, hands retreating into his sleeves. "If he does not want me to know what happened, then that is his choice. Obviously, he no longer considers me one who he can keep in his confidence."

Oh that is just dirty pool, Iroh! DIRTY POOL! And Zuko's face says so: If he doesn't say, he says he doesn't trust his uncle. If he does say, he allows himself to be cowed.

There's no winning, EVER, for Zuko.

"I can't explain it," he finally says. "Because I don't really-- know what happened. Just that-- she-- It wasn't anything I can put into words. And -- I can't-- betray her trust either."

THERE! HA! He defeats you both AND protects his secrets.

Wells scratches at the side of his nose, thinking; he glances Iroh's way. "Magic?" he guesses. "Accidental, but still- you think?"

"Perhaps," Iroh said. "It is almost as if his inner flame has been replaced with cold. As if it was sucked away to feed a greater fire."

He took a seat across from Zuko, but leaned forward attentively.

"Zuko, whatever happened, it was not healthy for you; you mustn't let it happen again, or you could becom very ill. You only have so much heat to give..."

He was being lectured for...

Taking care someone who needed something. Who needed him because nobody else was there.

"It's-- not like-- she did it to hurt me," he snaps sullenly. "It'll-- pass." Really. He'll get better. It's just a disruption of his breath. That's all. "She just-- hurt..."

And he didn't want to see her suffer.

Wells nods. "Fair enough," he said quietly. "All we ask is that you be careful. Please."

Iroh might have had other things in mind, but that was all Wells planned to ask.

"It will do you and whoever this girl is no good if you wind up ill."

He had to fuss. It was his job.

Said job was made all the easier now that he and Wells could tag-team Zuko.

Zuko rolls his eyes, drawing his hands back and seeking to rise. "I don't do anybody any good, Uncle. If a night in my room comforted her, I don't mind!"

... uhm, can he backtrack?

"I mean-- she just-- needed somewhere safe. The rest-- was-- accidental~!"

He's not helping himself, is he?

It's... actually starting to get funny, really. Wells is going to have a hard time keeping a straight face. "Accidents happen, Zuko," says Wells. "We understand that. Rachel's not gonna be happy if you wind up in hospital, is all I'm sayin'."

"...The rest was accidental." Iroh was utterly serious (possibly) when he said, "Zuko. Are we going to have a talk about the flames and the kindling again?"

Last time Zuko had spent most of his time during the Talk bright red and trying to escape. In the end, he'd gotten out by pointing out that there were no females within miles and miles, unless you counted Huan, the lieutenant that sometimes wore a woman's dress on Music Night and danced with fans.

No one knew where he'd gotten the dress.

"Uncle."

Tone: Scandalized.

Face: Red.

Seeking: Escape.

OH LOOK TEA.

HUZZAH TEA.

Uncle: Unphased.

And perhaps slightly amused.

"Just checking, Zuko. As much I would like grand-nieces and nephews, I am not over-eager for them, and I know how impetuous a young man can be, especially when caught off guard, in the middle of the night. Why, when I was younger--"

Stop him! Stop him now, while you still can!

"Idon'twanttobeafather!"

You know, for being ill, he moves remarkably fast when pressed with a story of his uncle's glory days hunting women like they were stag in the wood. He just cleared a couch and headed off.

... probably not what Iroh was hoping for.

See the icon?

Like that.

"Nice one, Iroh," says Wells.

"It will make him think twice about letting the girl sap him of his breath again, if only to avoid my stories," Iroh said sagely.