Charming
an A:TLA fanfic by tobu ishi
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"So, it's a..."
Holding up the peculiar little tangle at eye level, Zuko gave it a look that just escaped being cross-eyed.
"A charm," Katara said. She was elbow-deep in the rest of the crate, sorting happily through heaps of delicate fur and wool, and wasn't bothering to hide how entertained she was by his bewilderment. "It's traditional. You hang it over the cradle, to ward off evil spirits and bad influences."
"Hunh," Zuko said, and rolled the cord in his fingers, slowly turning the thing around for a better look. He was pretty sure the tough cord was made of animal sinew, tied in a long string of intricate knots and studded with glass beads and sea-eagle feathers.
"You saw one when we went to Kanna's spirit-blessing, remember?" Katara's lap was piled so full of soft blue and white fabric that it spilled over onto the floor, but she could still prompt his memory while holding up tiny garments and gently folding them. "Sokka made it himself."
It was easier to nod and mumble something in a musing tone, than to admit that his memories of that particular trip to Kyoshi Island were mostly a blur of celebration and feasting, an impromptu international summit in miniature. He'd brought coins and tiny firecrackers to throw to the village children, and Suki had nearly staked him out for the unagi when she heard the snap-bangs and saw the flashes of fire in the street, even after he explained that it was a good-luck tradition of his own people.
He didn't remember any charms, although he did remember a few quiet twilight moments spent sitting in the tiny nursery-room under the thatched eaves, trying not to smile at the newly minted auntie as she walked back and forth cooing nothings and rubbing noses with the sleepy baby in her arms...
"Where's it supposed to go?" he asked, sidling up to their own waiting cradle, already hung with long silk drapes and gold-knotted dragon tassels. Despite the frenzy of decorating, it all felt so surreal at times--the idea that the gently swelling rise of Katara's stomach would eventually result in a child like Kanna. A child with tiny perfect fingers. A child who might have his eyes.
He'd almost asked her to adopt--a war orphan, maybe, or a child of the nobility. Not because of the handful of useless ministers who had tried to make a stink about 'polluting the royal bloodline'. Zuko was well-acquainted with his own family nightmares. His bloodline might already be beyond repair...
Sturdy brown fingers closed over his. "Here," Katara said, shouldering him gently a step to the left so that she could guide his hand to the hooks that hung the drapes.
Together, they knotted the oily sinew in place, and settled the feathers and clinking beads in among the folds of red silk. When they'd finished, Katara leaned her head against his shoulder, her dark curls brushing his arm as he slid it snugly around her waist. She gave the smallest of contented sighs, and Zuko let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
Maybe, he thought. Maybe it will all be all right.
Though, as long as they were going this far, it couldn't hurt to ask Sokka to whip up a few more of these things.
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(A/N: Red, this one was for you and you know it. 3)