A Handful of Days. [Milliways Bar]
Nov. 1st, 2007 05:00 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
princeinexileHe left both heavy and light; Stephanie was-- perhaps, back in his life, perhaps not. Either way, she knew how he felt, heard him stammer out his incoherent affections and it was all well and good. But then there was Mai, who he had first blushed over, who he had rescued from flaming apples, who he had -- felt something for when they were young and feeling out the whole idea of boys and girls and what they did when their very strict and proper families weren't looking.
But it was still easy to smile at his uncle and fall into step once he was through the door; it would be okay. Perhaps he'd never see Mai on this side of the door, but he was sure they would be friends on the other, so long as he wasn't in Azula's way. And there was Stephanie, and he was sure that meant there was something -- some warmth that he could return to -- when he someday made it back to Milliways.
It warmed him, made him feel almost whole again -- it was easy to hug his uncle and share in his cheer with the tea shop's success. He thought of the bridges he should mend when he was going to make it back. He would speak to Wells and try and learn how to share the table with Spoon, no matter how strange the other werewolf was. He was going to find Ana and ask her if she had anymore spiced cookies, and make sure she and Annie met. He was going to the forge and share it with Ryan, and help this Teja and Iorek to extend the forge. The ring hidden beneath his robes reminded him that Hephaestos would welcome him too--
They were going to be the new, huge family he cobbled together. Certainly, it wasn't-- what he had striven for, but it was something. Something good.
These were the thoughts that kept him going, during the menial tasks and the tea bussing -- uncle's dreams were attained, and Zuko's were dashed, but--
He'd changed. He was different now. He had to be, because the alternative was self-destruction. Zuko didn't want to die. He wasn't ready. He just wasn't sure what part of that list he was living for. He couldn't say himself -- could he say Stephanie? Wells? Any of them?
There was no solid answer. But it kept him going.
Sometimes, that's all you had, to fuel the fire -- a tiny flicker of hope. The Avatar was no longer the light at the end of the tunnel. In fact, Zuko didn't know what the glow was-- and he didn't know to expect the oncoming train, rushing headlong at his cobbled together life on tracked forged of lightening...
But it was still easy to smile at his uncle and fall into step once he was through the door; it would be okay. Perhaps he'd never see Mai on this side of the door, but he was sure they would be friends on the other, so long as he wasn't in Azula's way. And there was Stephanie, and he was sure that meant there was something -- some warmth that he could return to -- when he someday made it back to Milliways.
It warmed him, made him feel almost whole again -- it was easy to hug his uncle and share in his cheer with the tea shop's success. He thought of the bridges he should mend when he was going to make it back. He would speak to Wells and try and learn how to share the table with Spoon, no matter how strange the other werewolf was. He was going to find Ana and ask her if she had anymore spiced cookies, and make sure she and Annie met. He was going to the forge and share it with Ryan, and help this Teja and Iorek to extend the forge. The ring hidden beneath his robes reminded him that Hephaestos would welcome him too--
They were going to be the new, huge family he cobbled together. Certainly, it wasn't-- what he had striven for, but it was something. Something good.
These were the thoughts that kept him going, during the menial tasks and the tea bussing -- uncle's dreams were attained, and Zuko's were dashed, but--
He'd changed. He was different now. He had to be, because the alternative was self-destruction. Zuko didn't want to die. He wasn't ready. He just wasn't sure what part of that list he was living for. He couldn't say himself -- could he say Stephanie? Wells? Any of them?
There was no solid answer. But it kept him going.
Sometimes, that's all you had, to fuel the fire -- a tiny flicker of hope. The Avatar was no longer the light at the end of the tunnel. In fact, Zuko didn't know what the glow was-- and he didn't know to expect the oncoming train, rushing headlong at his cobbled together life on tracked forged of lightening...
