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Post by sayuri on Dec 2, 2006 3:15:40 GMT -5
I was inspired to write this after I saw the last episode tonight. It is my first oneshot. This mainly focuses on the relationship over the years between Iroh and Zuko.
Summary - It is the simple acts in life that count the most. In a time of turmoil, war, growing, and forgiving, two people find a way to live and love the simple things.
The Simple Things in Life
1. It is the simple, yet reassuring squeeze on the shoulder after failing once again, reminding a grieving soul that it still has a place in this world. That it still has a destiny, just one that is yet to be revealed, and fulfilled.
2. Two simple words that could calm a heart that was raging like wild fire. I know.
3. The simple glance of understanding as they set sail yet again for a goal that they both knew they could never reach.
4. A simple nudge in the ribs after teasing his nephew about girls while he walked away - red faced, but still holding his head high through the crowds.
5. The sigh that comes after every simple mistake he ever made, it was his way of letting the boy know that he is disappointed. He is disappointed because he cares.
6. A simple, plain white handkerchief being in blurred vision as the first tears of his banishment come forth.
7. Teaching each other the true and constant meaning of survival, one simple phrase, never give up without a fight.
8. The rocking arms and soothing voice of a simple song, scaring away the nightmares. “Leaves from the vine, falling so slow. Like fragile tiny shells, drifting in the foam. Little soldier boy, come marching home. Brave soldier boy, comes marching home.”
9. Years later, the same lullaby, now a simple wish for a man who lost his son, but does not have to celebrate his birthday and mourning alone.
10. The same slap in the head after his Uncle offers him tea, and he refuses – once again. The simple smile that the two exchange after the repeated incident.
11. Simple proverbs passed down from Uncle to Nephew, and Nephew to Son.
12. A simple phrase, needed often, but rarely used. I’m sorry.
13. An even simpler phrase, needed just as much, but often used. You’re forgiven.
14. Simple notion to wake up every now and then throughout the night to watch his nephew sleep, a place where for once in his life. He is at peace.
15. Pretending to be stronger than he knows you are, so that the problem at hand will simply go away.
16. Spoon feeding him soup, giving him your blanket, not sleeping – but worrying, simply taking care of him in his time of need. Hoping, that some day, he will do the same for you.
17. After every scream in battle, every fallen Fire bender, a simple prayer that it is not a certain Uncle or Nephew.
18. One simple word that breaks down years of built trust, years that he wonders if they were wasted on a lost cause. Betrayal.
19. A simple realization, he wanted – needed his Uncle. He should have seen it.
20. A simple, yet tender hug shared by forgiveness between two people, who have lived, loved, and survived a not so simple life.
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:P
Zhao
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Posts: 888
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Post by :P on Dec 2, 2006 10:06:39 GMT -5
Awresheme
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Post by sayuri on Dec 3, 2006 19:42:11 GMT -5
I decided to make this a drabbles series, where for each number I am going to write a drabble. So here is the first one, let me know what you think! 1. It is the simple, yet reassuring squeeze on the shoulder after failing once again, reminding a grieving soul that it still has a place in this world. That it still has a destiny, just one that is yet to be revealed, and fulfilled.The thunder rolls in the distance, large black rain clouds gather against the sky. Shadows loom in the ocean, the waves lull. The lightning flashes, as it taunts its cruel game. Looking up to the sky one rain drop falls on his face near the corner of his eye and falls down his cheek, he does not flinch, and he does not blink. Utterly still, the world is utterly still. It is the deep breath before the plunge. In that moment, in that stillness, that is when he knows. That is when he remembers. He failed. Again. He did not capture the Avatar; he could not even find him this time. He did not regain his honor, he cannot produce lightning. He cannot earn his father’s love, he cannot mend his shredded heart. His world is continuing in its down fall, all leading to his utter disgrace. But, if just for a moment, one moment, there is a glimmer of hope. Hope in the silent words, the longing looks, and the understanding squeeze on his shoulder from his Uncle. He does not turn to look at the man, he knows what he will say, and he stopped believing that a long time ago. He has heard it again… Again… Again… And again. You must choose your destiny, I believe in second chances nephew. There still is hope left.AN: There is number one! The next drabble should come shortly!
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Post by sayuri on Dec 5, 2006 21:14:26 GMT -5
Drabble #2! This one did not come out exaclty how I woudl ahev liked it to, but oh well. #3 which will be coming soon, I think personally, flow better.
2. Two simple words that could calm a heart that was raging like wild fire. I know.
Zuko shudders. His screams of agony and sudden bursts of powerful flames alert the crew as they come running to the deck. But Iroh does not let them go near the Prince.
“Gentlemen, if you will please, I am sure that Prince Zuko just needs some time alone,” Iroh holds up his hands, his eyes begging them not to make the deadly mistake.
Not so reluctantly, they leave. Zuko finally crashes to his knees, whether in pain, grief, frustration, or perhaps a combination of them all, Iroh did not know. But what his instincts told him…
They were simple.
It was all he could offer.
“I know,” his voice soothingly understanding as he approached the young Prince.
He repeated it like a mantra into his ears, until finally Zuko stopped screaming, and fuming.
He blocked his Uncle out, he couldn’t let him in, he wouldn’t.
His heart thumping in his chest, its never-ending beats pounding in his ears, he couldn’t escape the noise. He couldn’t escape this pain. It made his stomach wrench, it made him sick. He simply couldn’t take it anymore.
“I know,” Iroh now stroking his back leaning down on one knee.
Zuko gave in.
He listened.
“I know,” Zuko breathed.
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Post by avatarspirit on Dec 24, 2006 21:50:16 GMT -5
Please write more! this is awesome!
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Jenny Lee
Ba Sing Se Azula
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Posts: 2,765
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Post by Jenny Lee on Dec 24, 2006 21:56:54 GMT -5
Good job! I hope you write more!
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Post by sayuri on Dec 25, 2006 1:35:00 GMT -5
oh wow, I haven't seen anyone reply to these in a long time. But I have ten drabbles written, I'll start posting again. Thanks!
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Post by sayuri on Dec 25, 2006 1:37:47 GMT -5
Well I didn't know that some people were still reading these.
3. The simple glance of understanding as they set sail yet again for a goal that they both knew they could never reach.
“I have no choice. You know that,” Zuko’s eyes are hardened by the reality of the world as he stares aimlessly into the deep blue ocean lulling before them.
He became accustomed to life’s cruel twists, though fate, fate was the worst vindictive twist of all. It toyed with emotions, giving false hopes, and then letting them come crashing down all at once, not bothering to see what life it had destroyed in the process.
“Neither did I, Nephew.” He did not ask for Iroh to come, he did not beg. He came willingly; he came at his own demise.
Two years, two years of searching, two long years of fruitless exhausting determination. It was an impossible task. They knew it from the beginning. They should have seen through the lies fed to them. It was simply a lost cause. He is the Avatar. He has a destiny; he has a place in this world. He is the hope of the world; he gets to have a happy ending. Iroh turned to Zuko, their eyes connecting, his eyes cheerless, beckoning Zuko to set a new course in search, yet again, for the Avatar. His eyes had seen much war, death, and malice. And yet, somehow he lived through it all, he lived to tell his story. If anyone in this world deserved a happy ending, Zuko believed it was Iroh.
Their exchanged glance would have looked like a simple gaze to any innocent bystander, but to Zuko and Iroh. It was an understanding, it was a mutual agreement. They were in this together, whether it was their choice or not. They were in this together.
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Post by avatarspirit on Dec 25, 2006 12:56:59 GMT -5
Bravo! Bravo! More please!
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Post by sayuri on Dec 26, 2006 18:07:12 GMT -5
Title: Naturally Beautiful
4. A simple nudge in the ribs after teasing his nephew about girls while he walked away - red faced, but still holding his head high through the crowds.
“You know Lee, I think it is time that you wind down a little bit. You are pretty tense. Perhaps drink some tea, get a massage, meditate, and perhaps find a special lady friend?” Iroh’s voice picked up along with a sly grin - in a teasing manner.
Iroh had been watching his Nephew in the city, he had watched him, as any normal boy would do, admiring the beautiful young girls walking by every now and then. Even though Zuko was sure that no one could have possibly seen, Iroh had. He saw the same gleam of slight desire igniting in Zuko. The longing in Zuko’s eyes, he longed for someone to love, and love him.
Bustles of girls would walk by, looking at some of the young men, and then wave their fans, blush and giggle. Though, for the most part, they always walked right past Zuko. Not taking notice in the strong young Fire bender, who happened to himself, be taking quite a bit of interest in them.
“Hmph,” Zuko snorted disdainfully at his Uncle’s suggestion.
A young girl garbed in a vibrant yellow kimono, her cheeks slightly rosy, her hair a chocolate brown, and her eyes… emerald green. She was slender, and her eyes sparkled when she smiled. She was not an exotic beautiful as many of the other girls were, she was natural.
Naturally beautiful.
The girl did, this time, take notice of the young Prince’s admiring eyes. Her own smile flashing to him, Zuko was about to return the favor with a slight grin. But a quick and simple jab in the ribs cut him short.
“Oughf.”
The old man, grinning ear to ear, with a very crafty look in his eyes was nudging him towards the girl. Zuko’s eyes just widened in horror as he blushed furiously, Iroh had no idea how to be nonchalant about such things.
Zuko turned for one last look.
She was gone. Disappearing into the crowd.
“Now what was wrong with that young lady, she was lovely, and seemed to take a liking to you Lee,” Iroh nudged him again, with the same sly look in his eyes.
But Zuko said nothing, but huffed again. He purposely picked up his pace ahead of his Uncle, still blushing furiously. Iroh knew he was not truly mad at his Uncle, after all who could be?
But his thoughts were confirmed by the haughty walk, and Zuko’s chin held extra high as he was almost out of sight. But before becoming fully camouflaged in the crowd, he turned to give his Uncle a slight grin.
Perhaps one day Zuko, you will find someone.
Yay for lighthearted drabbles!!
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Post by avatarspirit on Dec 26, 2006 18:32:26 GMT -5
Iroh, the ladies man. You're really good when it comes to Getting the characters just right!
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Post by sayuri on Dec 27, 2006 20:32:55 GMT -5
Title: A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes
“You know Prince Zuko, perhaps you should listen to the man, he knows what he is talking about,” Iroh advised his stubborn Nephew. Though he knew, no matter what anyone said, he would make his own choice, regardless of what is right, or wrong. Because in his eyes, he is right.
Always.
“Set the course for the Avatar, I am not giving up this time,” as expected, Zuko did not listen.
It should not surprise his Uncle, but still every time he does this, there is no other way of reasoning with him.
Sigh.
“Uncle, stop it.”
“Stop what, Nephew?” He said slyly, hoping that the boy would pick up on his hints.
“You know what I am talking about. Every time I do something against your will, you do that.”
“Do what Zuko?” Iroh was no longer playing innocent; he did not know what exactly Zuko spoke of, though somewhere in the back of his head, he had an idea.
“Sighing. I hate it; I know you think I make the wrong decisions. I know that you think I am a failure, and that I am a lost cause. But you don’t have to remind me of it every time. I already know.” Zuko’s voice was cold, distant, and hurt.
“Zuko, I do not believe any of those lies. I am your Uncle, and the only reason I do this. It is because I know of no other way to tell you, I care too much to let you fail. You are not a failure, and never will be. You are my Nephew, and I love you.”
Those last three words woke Iroh from his dream, not to a fright. But a blissful happiness, though Iroh knew it would not last for long. Not on this ship.
A large argument outside of his chambers caught Iroh’s immediate attention as he rushed outside to assist in the problem.
It was Zuko.
Of course.
And the captain.
Iroh did not know what the argument was about, but he had seen this before. And perhaps, in his wildest dreams, he could make this one come true.
“You know Prince Zuko, perhaps you should listen to the man, he knows what he is talking about,” Iroh started hesitantly.
“Set the course for the Avatar, I am not giving up this time,” as expected, Zuko did not listen.
Sigh.
Zuko simply walks away. He does not feel like dealing with his “Delusional Uncle,” today.
Iroh stands in the dark hall alone, he simple sighs once more.
If only that dream could come true.
Yep, we are back to the bittersweet stuff. You know I had something completely different in mind when I looked at this drabble, but this came out and I kept it. Anyways review!
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Post by avatarspirit on Dec 28, 2006 22:27:02 GMT -5
9 out of ten! WOOOO!
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Post by ›Adaira on Dec 28, 2006 22:43:36 GMT -5
Very well written ^^
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Post by sayuri on Dec 28, 2006 23:00:39 GMT -5
Title: And Suffering Shall Be Your Teacher
6. A simple, plain white handkerchief being in blurred vision as the first tears of his banishment come forth.
Barely 14, he wakes screaming and panting in his bed. It is soaked through with his sweat. His vision only clear in his right eye, the other was complete darkness.
This nightmare will not leave him, it lingers, if only to torment the soul to the point of self destruction. But that is what his father wanted, is it not?
He stands on the deck of his ship; agony takes hold of him, as he is doomed to a life of endless searching. All hope has left him, left him to be replaced with insecurity, misery, self loathing, and overall emptiness.
He never looks into the eyes of the old man; he fears what may come of it. After all, it is not sympathy that the Prince wants; it is something much more potent. He wishes so much to have the strength to ask for it, but it proves to be an impossible task.
He stands on the deck of his ship, watching the storm roll in. There is nothing he can do to stop it. There is no stopping the destruction it will bring, the destruction in his own life.
Barely 14, he wakes screaming and panting in his bed. It is soaked through with his sweat. His vision only clear in his right eye, the other was complete darkness.
He stands still. The storm is raging on all around him. He blinks back the fear, the pain, the guilt, the remorse, he should have done something. He sees the pain in his eyes, in his actions, in his every breathe. He should have done something.
He knows his Nephew tries to be strong; he tries to choke back the tears. But soon enough, he won’t be able too. When that happens, he will be there, as always.
He watches him from a safe distance on the deck. He watches him grip the rails, he watches his defenses break down. He watches him with care. He listens to him scream, he listens to him fall silent. He listens to the soft and muffled cry. He listens to the long lost sobs come forth.
He walks tenderly towards the grieving figure; he pulls out a plain white handkerchief. It is simple, white, and pure. He knows it is the closest he can get right now to tell his Nephew that he cares. He sees as his Nephew takes the gentle offer.
He listens to the weak thank you muttered. He knows what the thank you truly means. He smiles as he watches the one he loves tuck the object safely in his pocket and choke back the tears once again.
Barely 17, he wakes screaming and panting on the cold ground. It is painted with his sweat and tears. In his vision is the blurred simply white handkerchief given to him so long ago. He grips it tightly, now days, it is his only comfort.
After the second Barely 14, it switches to Iroh's point of view, if you didn't catch that.
Gracias reviewers, you guys are amazing!
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