Title: Little Treasures
Author: AotA
Rating: K
Warnings: none
Characters: Zuko, Aang
Setting: post-war
Summary: Sometimes it is the smallest things that you care about the most.
Notes:
They were looking through the rooms on his new, old home when suddenly, Zuko stopped. He picked up a partially unfurled scroll and uncurled it the rest of the way, a stunned look on his face. "This is…"
Aang appeared and looked over his shoulder. It was a portrait of a beautiful noble lady and her son. "Wow! She's really pretty. Do you know who it is?" he asked, wondering why Zuko looked completely pole axed.
Zuko was silent for a long moment, just soaking in the painting, "She was… my mother."
Aang's eyes widened and stared back at the painting. Softly, in a more reverent tone of voice, he amended, "She was beautiful."
"She was," Zuko agreed then reached out with a finger to stroke the painting's cheek. "And that," he said after a moment, sliding his finger to point at the young boy with a cheerful look on his face as he sat with his mother's arm around his shoulders, "Was me when I was younger."
Now Aang gaped, quickly looking between the two. The young Zuko was so happy looking and completely unscarred. The Zuko that he knew, the Zuko in front of him, was always so grim, gloomy, and almost downtrodden. His Zuko was a frowning, serious figure who taught him firebending and just how cruel the world could be.
Zuko frowned determinedly at the floor, "I thought that Ozai had destroyed all signs of the both of us. To find this…" With great care, Zuko rolled the scroll back up and hid it in his sleeve. He let out an explosive sigh. No longer speaking to Aang, he stared straight ahead, golden eyes unfocused, "What happened to you, Mother?"