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white_lotus2011-02-06 07:01 pm
whitelotusmods) wrote in white_lotus2011-02-06 07:01 pm
LNYE ART & FIC: The Same Process in Reverse, for friendshipper
Title: The Same Process in Reverse
By:jai
For:sholio
Fanwork type: art & fic
Rating: PG
Characters: Zuko & Iroh gen, post-series
Content notes: none
"It appears that my nephew could use a cup of tea," Iroh remarked as the door to his shop slammed open and Zuko stomped in.
"I don't need any tea, Uncle," Zuko said shortly, and planted himself in the farthest chair from the door.
"A good thing, too," Iroh said mildly, crossing to the door and closing it, then flipping the sign that hung in the window. "We've just closed." He eyed Zuko for a moment, then continued stacking up dishes from the table he'd been in the middle of clearing. "If you're looking for something to occupy you, you could lend me a hand." Zuko looked at the dishes in front of him, opened his mouth to object, and then closed it again. He started piling them up, clanking each one loudly on top of the other. Iroh winced, but didn't comment.
They cleared the tables silently, depositing the dishes in the kitchen to be cleaned, and only then did Iroh turn to Zuko with raised eyebrows. "So," he said. "I admit that I'm mystified why one would come to a tea shop, if not for the tea." Zuko kept his mouth mutinously closed, and returned to his chair. "Without an explanation, I'd have to suggest it might be for the company." He winked, and when he got no reponse, shrugged and settled down at the next table, idly rearranging tiles on the pai sho board that sat there.
"They brought in an artist," Zuko finally said, sinking lower into his chair.
"Even a royal palace does need some art to make the place more livable," Iroh pointed out.
"Not for that," Zuko said impatiently, and looked at Iroh pointedly.
"Ah." He smiled distantly. "I never did get to have a royal portrait done. I was rather excited about the prospect, myself. I take it you are not?"
Zuko glared, and didn't answer.
"I am sure, " Iroh said carefully, "that an artist so accomplished could do fine work in profile."
Zuko's head jerked up to look at him, and his glare intensified. "I don't care about that," he said.
Iroh waved a hand in apology. "If you were a little more forthcoming with your objection - "
"You think I care what it'll look like?" Zuko asked. He sulked for a moment, and Iroh began to feel as if he'd lost a few years off his life, like he was sitting across from the Zuko he'd known years ago. When he spoke again, though, Zuko's voice was quieter, more even. "I could have had it healed, you know."
Iroh didn't let his face register his surprise. "I didn't know."
"In Ba Sing Se," he said. "Katara offered."
"You were interrupted?"
"I turned her down." Zuko's face was resolute, and suddenly older looking than Iroh had ever seen it. "I have nothing to be ashamed of."
"Then why - ?" Iroh ventured, and Zuko cut him off.
"It's not the portrait, Uncle," he said, standing and pacing. "It's the company it's going to keep." His face was stony.
"Ah." Iroh nodded solemnly. "There are great Fire Lords in that hall, Zuko. Men who have done admirable things."
"And there are men like Sozin, and my father, and yours!" Zuko replied. "How could I want my picture to hang beside theirs, as if I condone all they've done?"
"It is not a question of approval," Iroh told him, settling his hands flat on the table and looking Zuko in the eye. "It is a matter of posterity. How many hours have you spent in that hall, looking at those faces watching you? Maybe not as many as I did - you did not grow up knowing you were heir, after all. But you know those faces, you have had history lessons that taught you their deeds. And what of the children who come after you? The ones who will go to that hall and look into the eyes of their forefathers? Do you want them to only see the Sozins, the Ozais? Or would you like them to know what comes after that? The world is changing, Zuko, and you - like it or not - are an instrument of that change. Your father called himself the Phoenix King, all the while having no concept of what rising from the ashes meant. You, on the other hand - " he gestured expressively. "That is all you know, and it makes you a more powerful Fire Lord than any that have come before."
Zuko looked down at the table in front of him, tracing paths in the wood grain, until Iroh began to wonder if he was going to reply at all. Finally he raised his eyes, and caught Iroh's. "I think maybe I'll take that tea after all," he said, the tension around his eyes relieved just a little.
"And join me in a game of pai sho?" Iroh prompted.
Zuko gave a tiny smile. "If you insist," he conceded.
"I do," Iroh said. "A Fire Lord must keep refining his idea of strategy, you know." With that, he headed for the kitchen to put on a pot of tea.
______________
The day after Zuko's portrait was hung in the gallery, he showed up at Iroh's shop again. This time, his uncle met him at the door with an expectant smile. "Well?" he asked. "How did it turn out."
"It's..." Zuko's face was more relaxed than expected, and his lips even curved up a little as he said, "I think you'd like it."
"I'm sure that I will," Iroh replied, "and I am taking that as a royal invitation to serve tea at your palace sometime soon. But first," he held the shop door open for Zuko. "I understand that you question the company you keep in the gallery, so I took the liberty of, well - " he ushered Zuko in, and Zuko's eyes traveled over the walls - paintings of his friends, from all the nations, and of himself among them. "I think perhaps these companions may suit you more."
"Uncle - " Zuko said, and stopped, wordless.
"Tea, yes, of course!" Iroh replied, steering Zuko towards a seat. "Tea and a game of pai sho, this is what's called for now, I believe."
"That's your cure for everything," Zuko said, looking amused.
"And it works," Iroh pointed out.
Zuko laughed quietly. "Sometimes," he agreed. "Sometimes it does."
By:
jaiFor:
sholioFanwork type: art & fic
Rating: PG
Characters: Zuko & Iroh gen, post-series
Content notes: none
"It appears that my nephew could use a cup of tea," Iroh remarked as the door to his shop slammed open and Zuko stomped in.
"I don't need any tea, Uncle," Zuko said shortly, and planted himself in the farthest chair from the door.
"A good thing, too," Iroh said mildly, crossing to the door and closing it, then flipping the sign that hung in the window. "We've just closed." He eyed Zuko for a moment, then continued stacking up dishes from the table he'd been in the middle of clearing. "If you're looking for something to occupy you, you could lend me a hand." Zuko looked at the dishes in front of him, opened his mouth to object, and then closed it again. He started piling them up, clanking each one loudly on top of the other. Iroh winced, but didn't comment.
They cleared the tables silently, depositing the dishes in the kitchen to be cleaned, and only then did Iroh turn to Zuko with raised eyebrows. "So," he said. "I admit that I'm mystified why one would come to a tea shop, if not for the tea." Zuko kept his mouth mutinously closed, and returned to his chair. "Without an explanation, I'd have to suggest it might be for the company." He winked, and when he got no reponse, shrugged and settled down at the next table, idly rearranging tiles on the pai sho board that sat there.
"They brought in an artist," Zuko finally said, sinking lower into his chair.
"Even a royal palace does need some art to make the place more livable," Iroh pointed out.
"Not for that," Zuko said impatiently, and looked at Iroh pointedly.
"Ah." He smiled distantly. "I never did get to have a royal portrait done. I was rather excited about the prospect, myself. I take it you are not?"
Zuko glared, and didn't answer.
"I am sure, " Iroh said carefully, "that an artist so accomplished could do fine work in profile."
Zuko's head jerked up to look at him, and his glare intensified. "I don't care about that," he said.
Iroh waved a hand in apology. "If you were a little more forthcoming with your objection - "
"You think I care what it'll look like?" Zuko asked. He sulked for a moment, and Iroh began to feel as if he'd lost a few years off his life, like he was sitting across from the Zuko he'd known years ago. When he spoke again, though, Zuko's voice was quieter, more even. "I could have had it healed, you know."
Iroh didn't let his face register his surprise. "I didn't know."
"In Ba Sing Se," he said. "Katara offered."
"You were interrupted?"
"I turned her down." Zuko's face was resolute, and suddenly older looking than Iroh had ever seen it. "I have nothing to be ashamed of."
"Then why - ?" Iroh ventured, and Zuko cut him off.
"It's not the portrait, Uncle," he said, standing and pacing. "It's the company it's going to keep." His face was stony.
"Ah." Iroh nodded solemnly. "There are great Fire Lords in that hall, Zuko. Men who have done admirable things."
"And there are men like Sozin, and my father, and yours!" Zuko replied. "How could I want my picture to hang beside theirs, as if I condone all they've done?"
"It is not a question of approval," Iroh told him, settling his hands flat on the table and looking Zuko in the eye. "It is a matter of posterity. How many hours have you spent in that hall, looking at those faces watching you? Maybe not as many as I did - you did not grow up knowing you were heir, after all. But you know those faces, you have had history lessons that taught you their deeds. And what of the children who come after you? The ones who will go to that hall and look into the eyes of their forefathers? Do you want them to only see the Sozins, the Ozais? Or would you like them to know what comes after that? The world is changing, Zuko, and you - like it or not - are an instrument of that change. Your father called himself the Phoenix King, all the while having no concept of what rising from the ashes meant. You, on the other hand - " he gestured expressively. "That is all you know, and it makes you a more powerful Fire Lord than any that have come before."
Zuko looked down at the table in front of him, tracing paths in the wood grain, until Iroh began to wonder if he was going to reply at all. Finally he raised his eyes, and caught Iroh's. "I think maybe I'll take that tea after all," he said, the tension around his eyes relieved just a little.
"And join me in a game of pai sho?" Iroh prompted.
Zuko gave a tiny smile. "If you insist," he conceded.
"I do," Iroh said. "A Fire Lord must keep refining his idea of strategy, you know." With that, he headed for the kitchen to put on a pot of tea.
______________
The day after Zuko's portrait was hung in the gallery, he showed up at Iroh's shop again. This time, his uncle met him at the door with an expectant smile. "Well?" he asked. "How did it turn out."
"It's..." Zuko's face was more relaxed than expected, and his lips even curved up a little as he said, "I think you'd like it."
"I'm sure that I will," Iroh replied, "and I am taking that as a royal invitation to serve tea at your palace sometime soon. But first," he held the shop door open for Zuko. "I understand that you question the company you keep in the gallery, so I took the liberty of, well - " he ushered Zuko in, and Zuko's eyes traveled over the walls - paintings of his friends, from all the nations, and of himself among them. "I think perhaps these companions may suit you more."
"Uncle - " Zuko said, and stopped, wordless.
"Tea, yes, of course!" Iroh replied, steering Zuko towards a seat. "Tea and a game of pai sho, this is what's called for now, I believe."
"That's your cure for everything," Zuko said, looking amused.
"And it works," Iroh pointed out.
Zuko laughed quietly. "Sometimes," he agreed. "Sometimes it does."