Maiko 100: Prompt #47: Music
Lullaby
Mai stood in the doorway of the nursery and watched with wonder as Zuko hummed to their newborn daughter, occasionally letting a word or two of the old song slip out. He cradled the little blanketed bundle in his arms and stroked her thatch of black hair, then her cheek, then her adorable button nose. He was so immersed in the moment that Mai didn't exist; no one did but Zuko and the tiny girl.
Zuko didn't sing. Zuko never showed an interest in music. Mai recalled her husband's stories of Iroh's music nights on the ship and how he had hated them. Somewhere between then and now, between being a banished prince and a young Fire Lord, husband and first time father, those feelings changed.
She took a long final look, wanting to imprint the image on her mind somehow, so that she would never forget it. Mai's cheeks were damp as she turned and walked down the corridor. Later that evening, as she and Zuko got ready for bed, Mai began to hum the same tune. She put a gentle hand on her daughter's stomach as she slumbered in a bassinet next to their own bed. Zuko stood behind her and encircled her waist with his arms.
"My mother sang that lullaby to me," he whispered. "The memory is so clear. It's something of hers I can give to our daughter."
Mai nodded. "It's beautiful. And she definitely likes it. I never thought that I would hear you sing, Zuko."
"That little girl there, she changes everything for us, just like you changed everything for me."
He rested his chin on her shoulder and peered down at the sleeping child.
