Ursa plays the erhu for Zuko during happier times at the old summer home.
Midsummer was the most cherished time of year to Ursa; an annual tradition she joyfully prepared for weeks prior to departing the Fire Nation capital. A journey to the Summer Palace. Ozai never cared for the "shabby" seasonal beachside abode and general frivolity of something as pedantic as a vacation… he'd stopped begrudgingly accompanying Ursa there long since; a year or two before Zuko was born.
"It's a foolish waste of my time, sitting there in the heat and dirt. Doing nothing. I have more important work to do here…" he'd drawled dispassionately.
"Besides…" Ursa remained perfectly still, her head stiffly bowed and back straight as a board. Eye contact during a requested audience with Prince Ozai was not permitted anymore. Her pulse quickened under the prolonged pause and electric anxiety swirled beneath her statuesque posture. Would he forbid it out of spite…? Her pulse quickened. "I'll welcome the time away from you… and Zuko." He sneered cruelly. "It's usually so obnoxious around here. Maybe now I can have some peace and quiet." If Ursa had been cut on the edge of her husband's words back then, she didn't show it. Unflinching, she bowed lowly, her eyes still trained to the ground. "Very well, My Lord." she breathed cooly.
And so, from that season onward Ursa would gather Zuko - then later, Azula too - and the trio would travel to (what she amusingly dubbed, with a playful pinch on each of their cheeks) the Summer Palace.
The cool, stoic pallor that normally ruled Ursa's demeanor would lift with each passing mile between the creaking carriage and capital city; like the slowly dawning sun, a smile would bashfully reappear; steadily brighter and more radiant. The hushed, lowly tone of her voice would give way to airy laughter and sing-song stories and games.
That was by far, young Prince Zuko's favorite part. Time in the capital palace passed mutedly day-to-day and court manners stifled any loud joy or spiritedness in the echoing hallways. Father didn't like any disturbances, no matter the reason or location. Once, a simple crash from a dropped and broken tray had seen a young servant girl restrained and lashed 20 times with a bamboo switch. Zuko was only a few years old when that occurred but he remembered it vividly. Ursa had yanked him away then, turning his eyes into her arms and rushing him away from the guangia in charge of her punishment and the observing Fire-Lord-to-be.
Games, hugs, laughter, play - all were strictly and carefully regulated to the outer courtyard after that. It was a rare and special place where Zuko could see his mother come alive for brief moments; unwhispered and striking. The only place where she was able to exist wholly however, was at the Summer Palace.
For two precious weeks, every year, the children let their voices out. Boisterous hollering and screams of laughter (and occasional antagonizing). Informal meals. Chatter and stories at the dinner table. Rambunctious games with the neighborhood children. Trips to the night market and the summer fair. And always each year, a small, special surprise - not because it was expensive or valuable - but because it was golden simplicity. Ursa wanted her children to appreciate priceless memories. She wanted them to feel genuine freedom and happiness that they could look back on fondly in the dark times that would come; freedom that their positions could never afford outside their insulated summer refuge. Her children were her absolute joy; the reason her heart was able to beat… the reason she had been able to live again after such deep loss.
Ah… and how Zuko treasured his summertime with his Mother! More than anything in the universe! He was always Ursa's son, much to Ozai's contempt. Her first born was so spirited. His compassion and pure capacity for feeling often struck Ursa quite profoundly. Whose child was he to be so tender and aware? To feel so completely and purely? Ursa sighed contentedly. Though, a knot tug warningly at her throat and tears stung the corners of her eyes.
"Will that be all, Mistress?" the old shopkeeper croaked while gently loading the small hand basket she'd brought to the market. Yams and some exotic confection called soft mallows. "Ah… yes!" She chuckled lightly. "I apologize, I was lost in thought!" The shopkeeper chuckled in return "Not at all, My Lady. Please enjoy these… the soft mallows should be put on last then reroasted over the fire. Take them away from open flame before they char…" "Understood, thank you!"
That evening, the children came bustling home later than usual. Dinner was a simple cold noodle and vegetable dish Ursa had prepared. Azula regaled Ursa with her victory in a running race she and another local boy had between messy mouthfuls. Her chubby cheeks were streaked with dried dirt and sweat. Her small pigtails had fallen down loose and crooked, in a fine wispy mess. Ursa gasped and nodded with Azula's intensity and tried to contain her fond laughter. Beating boys at racing was serious business!
"And what did you do today, ZuZu?" Ursa leaned forward and smiled tenderly at her oldest. "Well… I raced for a little while too-" "AND!" Azula excitedly interjected "ZuZu won against that boy too, but then we raced and then I won. ZuZu won once against me tho-" "I wanna tell it, Azuuuulaaaa!" Zuko stuck out his tongue and Azula squealed with protest. The conversation eventually erupted in wrestling and tickling and laughter. They had a joyful time.
Ursa eventually herded the party outside and got everyone situated in a good spot around the crackling fire pit. "Whaaaat's this!?" Azula marveled aloud at the after dinner surprise Ursa had gathered earlier in the day. Roasted yams topped with roasted soft mallows. "It's soft mallows, all the way from the Earth Kingdom! You roast your soft mallow over the fire then you put it on your roasted yam…" Azula had already pulled her roasting fork away from the fire; mallow perfectly and lightly toasted. "Lookit mine Zuzu!" she giggled, completely enraptured and eyes glittering with delight "Awwww! What!? Lookit mine!" Zuko lamented and then bashfully laughed. His retrieved mallow was pitifully charred and still flaming. Ursa and Azula erupted in laughter at Zuko's wrinkled pout. The sound echoed around the clearing, accompanied by the breeze sighing through the trees and crickets chirping.
The fire died little by little as the hours passed. Little Azula had eventually dropped like a stone, hands and mouth smeared sticky and still dirty from the day's activities. Ursa laid her gently to rest on a saddle blanket and carefully tucked her in with her housecoat. Now, with Ursa's undivided attention Zuko finally had a chance to tell his mother about his day, uninterrupted. He'd spent most of the day by himself on the beach collecting things that little boys find interesting and collect at the beach. A sand dollar, bits of broken shells, wave smoothed stones, and a small piece of sea glass (the favorite find of the day) He saw a giant sea fish jump over the waves ("A dolphin!" Ursa had marveled) and then of course he'd joined his sister and the other children later on for races and games.
It was quiet now.
Zuko poked idly at the flames with his poker and sat cross-legged next to Ursa. Taking advantage of the quiet Ursa had a servant fetch a case from her room and was now turning the tuning pegs on the long necked string instrument from the case. Zuko looked on, wide eyed. "What is that, Mother?" "An erhu." Ursa replied cheerfully. "What's a erhu?" "An erhu," Ursa gently corrected him "is an instrument that I learned to play a long time ago." "Wow!" Zuko leaned over curiously, quietly observing Ursa tuning and bowing the instrument. Ursa punctuated and gently explained the process as she went.
"This is the qin tong…" she lightly tapped the sound box resting on her knee. "This covering comes from a type of reptile called a python. It's called qin pi. It's the reason the erhu sounds like it does…" Zuko looked up, into Ursa's eyes, amazed. "And this…?"
So on and so forth, Ursa and Zuko bonded over the fragile and unassuming zither. "Are you gonna play it now?" Zuko queried, excitedly. "I think so, are you ready Zuzu?" he nodded enthusiastically. Fully tuned and bowed, Ursa closed her eyes and began to play…
And how it sang! Zuko was fascinated by the sound. Ursa's hand gently tensed and followed the strings. The mournful pitch ached over the still, late night air and rising and falling like waves, Zuko was slowly overtaken by the melody. Astounded by its beauty, his heart swelled with unfathomable feeling and longing he couldn't quite understand. The bow slid smoothly to and fro, hypnotizing him and though his eyes physically saw what was going on, his perception was somewhere else. This was his mother, Ursa, personified and reintroduced as a whole new person, right before him! The dying glow of the flames still crackled occasionally, casting a soft shadow over Ursa's drawn features; her eyebrows knit and eyes closed. Zuko began to quietly cry.
The ballad concluded and Ursa opened her eyes to a tear shed face and wide, unblinking eyes. "Zuko!" She tenderly chided with concern "My son, why are you crying? Does your tummy hurt?" She set aside the erhu and turned to face him, still unblinking and streaming tears. He suddenly looked up, as if he hadn't realized he'd been crying in the first place. He swiped his hand over his eyes and examined the evidence. Overcome by a crashing tidal wave of feeling, he threw himself in Ursa's arms, drawing shaky breaths between tender sobs. "Sweet Zuko…" Ursa gently smoothed her hands over his hair and kissed the top of his head. "I love you, Mother…" Zuko managed to cough out the words through his mouth, though muffled by the fabric of her sleeves. Ursa nodded and continued to silently comfort him. Taking his time, Zuko finally pulled away but still held fast on Ursa's arms, steadying himself against the swelling tides threatening to retake him. "My... I didn't mean to…" Ursa trailed off as Zuko shook his head fervently. "No… I liked it! It was beautiful! I just…" Zuko took his turn to be at a loss for words and let his head drop, ashamed for his unexpected outburst, so unbecoming of a boy, much less a member of royalty. He'd felt so much and all at once. Ursa smiled lightly and tipped Zuko's head up, lovingly smoothing the remainder of the tear trails away. "Ah, I think I understand…" She smiled gently "the erhu is a very powerful instrument, Zuko. I've played it for a long time. That's why I love it so much…" Zuko still couldn't bring his eyes to meet Ursa's. He felt deeper shame creeping in as more time slid by under Ursa's scrutiny… what if Father found out… that something like that made him cry…
"You know… Zuko…" Ursa let Zuko settle back to sit as he was before. "It's always okay and absolutely necessary that you have feelings, my love. I never want you to change that about yourself, regardless of who might want you to. Never feel shame for the way you feel, Zuko. Never feel shame for who you are. Never become too proud to cry…"
Zuko sighed, finally settled from his outpour. He linked arms with Ursa and leaned sleepily against her side. The fire crackled weakly now, under the wide sky, full of glittering stars. Ursa patted his hand gently. While he was often quiet for a child, she knew he understood. For someone so young, he understood the sorrow of joy. The sorrow of love. And the sorrow of loss.
Zuko sighed once more as the embers popped one last time, exhausting the last light of the fire and he surrendered to rest. Ursa sat still, relishing the feeling of bliss; her beloved Zuko and Azula with her. She felt a happiness that, not so long ago, she thought she'd never feel again. Zuko murmured one last time before sleep claimed him. "...love you, Mother…" and she whispered on the final warm breeze of the night, "I love you too, Zuko."