Title: An Armful of Roses

By: Emmelyn Cindy Mah

Category: Anime/Avatar, The Last Airbender

Sub-Category: Family/Love

Summary: As Zuko travels through the clouds, his thoughts are steered towards that of his mother. Meanwhile, Uncle Iroh, free at last of his prison bonds, visits with an old friend.

Disclaimer: Do not read if you haven't watched Fire-The Day of Black Sun: The Eclipse. This one-shot contains a huge spoiler from there, and personally, I'm not going to be bothered if you read the fic, and then complained that I spoiled you. Also, I don't own Avatar. (How I wish I did..)

An Armful of Roses

He was sailing through the skies; sailing, and sailing, weaving through the clouds in an endless dream of blue and white. The world seemed all the brighter now—and he was full of hope, and optimism, for the first time in a long, long time. He was at peace.

Such emotions had not always come easy for the Prince of the Fire Nation. Zuko had always been the quieter child—but the agni kai; the banishment had brought the worst from within his spirit. For years, he'd spent his days in silent, somber gloom—but no longer. He was no longer the banished prince; he was Zuko, the prince who would make a difference in the war. The prince who would betray his own, heartless sire for the greater good.

For the greater good.

Had that been why his mother had left him?

He leaned over the edge of his air-balloon, his honey-gold eyes searching; but he knew, deep within his heart, that he would not see her. As much as he desired the abandoment of his journey and quest to seek the avatar, as much as he desired to, instead, seek her loving arms, he knew better than to choose a path against his destiny. His destiny was aligned with that of the avatar's.

And he did not quite deserve to see his mother. Not just yet.

She would certainly not be proud of the man he'd become.

He flinched slightly—and for the first time since leaving the Fire Nation, Prince Zuko felt shame. And it was shame that had not been brought upon him by his father; but by himself, and his actions against the Avatar. It was shame that came to light at the thought of his mother; his mother, disappointed at his being. The very thought gnawed at his insides, and tore at his heart. Yet several seconds later, realisation, once again, dawned upon him.

But she would be proud of the man that he was to become. Of that, he was sure.

Then he would seek her, and fall into her warm, welcoming arms. Yes, she was alive—he knew it. His heart knew it, and his heart believed it with every fibre of his being. He would see her again.

And he would present her with an armful of roses—white as snow and pure as her own heart.

He smiled at the thought—yes, he would like that.

She strode, silent within the gardens. Her robes trailed gently along behind her, rustling at the lush green grass as she walked; but she was oblivious to the sounds. Her eyes, a deep honey-gold in colour, were out-of-focus; she was deep in thought.

"Ursa?"

She blinked once—then turned to face the newcomer. She smiled. "Iroh. Dear Iroh—"

There was no need for words. Mere seconds had passed when she'd strode towards her friend; and yet fewer moments had passed before they'd embraced. When they'd pulled apart, both sets of eyes were misted; but Ursa was not ashamed of the tears. No, she would shed tears of joy for dear Iroh—at any time of any age.

He chuckled softly, then led her by the hand to a bench. "The years have not changed you, Ursa. You are as beautiful as ever."

She laughed outright at this. "You haven't changed a bit, then. I was afraid you would be—" Here, she paused. "—different."

Iroh seemed somewhat amused as he lowered himself onto the bench. "Age, nor time does not change the soul within a beating heart. Only will and desire may do that; and I have not had such desires as to change myself."

"I am glad of that." She replied—and clasping her hands together, she settled herself onto the bench beside him. "Oh, Iroh—how I've missed you."

"You flatter me." The elder smiled. "But I know who it is your heart truly desires to see."

She paused, lifting a hand to scratch delicately upon the tip of her nose. "If it is Ozai you speak of—"

"Not Ozai." His words were firm—and there was but a hint of disgust within the aged cadence. Disgust, within Iroh's voice!

Ursa bit her lower lip. It was quite unlike Iroh to speak in such a manner—yet she found that she did not care for news of her husband. Once, there had been love; but that was long ago. She was numb to him—she no longer cared.

"Zuko…"

At this, Iroh managed the faintest of smiles—but Ursa thought she saw a flash of slight disappointment within his eyes.

"Iroh, please. What has happened to Zuko?"

He coughed; then paused, studying her for several short seconds. Finally—"You will see your son again, Ursa. Do not fret."

She lifted a casual brow—but took it as a cue to ask no more. Instead, she leaned backwards, then clasped her hands together over her lap. "I know. He has a promise to keep to me."

"Oh?"

"When he was seven, I brought him to the Fire Nation Flower Festival. We spent the day looking for white roses, but could fine none—we were too late, and they'd all been sold. He was just a child then, but he knew how much I'd wanted the roses—" Here, she paused; her eyes were sparkling with bittersweet tears. "—and the next year, on the very day of the festival, I awoke to hundreds of vases of roses within my bed-chamber."

Iroh blinked—then laughed. "That sounds like something Zuko would have done for you."

She chuckled softly. "Ozai wasn't at all pleased—but I loved them. And he did the same the next year. And the year after that. And after, until our—" She paused; the word seemed sharp within her throat. "—seperation. I don't think he even remembers what he used to do. But it was the greatest gift I could have dared to hope for, as a mother."

"He remembers." The elder of the two quirked a vague smile. "I am sure that the first gift you receive from him, upon your reconciliation, would be none other than your beloved roses."

They were silent just then—and for several long moments, naught was said between the two.

And then, much later, the lady spoke—and her voice was tender.

"I'd like that very much."

Author's Note: The second of my random Avatar one-shots. I like this one, partly because it's got such an element of family love here—I've always been one to enjoy writing parent/child scenes. Because its so sweet at times. I hope I did a good enough job!

Please take the time to drop me a review! Thank you guys!