Breakpoint [Milliways]
The fever breaks; it is a cause for joy in his uncle, and for Zuko, it means a full day of deep, restful (dreamless) sleep. It is the sleep of the empty--
--all his dreams are gone.
When he awakes, he is blankfaced and a little confused; he fell ill, but he's better now. Iroh talks no more of metamorphisis, and Zuko is not inclined to talk at all. He moves back to the bedroom on the next day, and eats and rests again.
Men come by, bringing things for Iroh; they talk plans for this new teashop (full creative control-- you can name it-- we just want this percentage of the profits for this many years, then it will be yours in deed and name) and he is back at the name game, as he looks over the placement for a refined place of rest and relaxation in the upper ring.
Zuko sits and listens one day as he mutters over names; he honestly can't bring himself to care about any of them. But he smiles for the old man -- that's what he should do, isn't it, smile for his uncle, who wants him to choose to be a happy peasant -- and says, "I like 'Jasmine Dragon' best, uncle," the reaction is both strange and yet, predictable.
Iroh is gratified, and Zuko feels nothing at all.
The seeds of resentment planted long ago sprouted, took root, and now wraps around him. Thorny vines in the soul have choked off every ounce of feeling for the old man -- but this is surprisingly easy to fake, when he has nothing inside him but the space left behind by his dreams. He remembers what it was like to respct him -- to care about him --
-- but it's just beyond him now. He cannot care for him, or for himself. It is all hollow, meaningless. Nothing he's done... has had any meaning. This, he supposes, is how it's going to be. A life of lies, devoid of truth.
He hopes Azula's skill in deception is in his blood too, or he is damned for sure.
--all his dreams are gone.
When he awakes, he is blankfaced and a little confused; he fell ill, but he's better now. Iroh talks no more of metamorphisis, and Zuko is not inclined to talk at all. He moves back to the bedroom on the next day, and eats and rests again.
Men come by, bringing things for Iroh; they talk plans for this new teashop (full creative control-- you can name it-- we just want this percentage of the profits for this many years, then it will be yours in deed and name) and he is back at the name game, as he looks over the placement for a refined place of rest and relaxation in the upper ring.
Zuko sits and listens one day as he mutters over names; he honestly can't bring himself to care about any of them. But he smiles for the old man -- that's what he should do, isn't it, smile for his uncle, who wants him to choose to be a happy peasant -- and says, "I like 'Jasmine Dragon' best, uncle," the reaction is both strange and yet, predictable.
Iroh is gratified, and Zuko feels nothing at all.
The seeds of resentment planted long ago sprouted, took root, and now wraps around him. Thorny vines in the soul have choked off every ounce of feeling for the old man -- but this is surprisingly easy to fake, when he has nothing inside him but the space left behind by his dreams. He remembers what it was like to respct him -- to care about him --
-- but it's just beyond him now. He cannot care for him, or for himself. It is all hollow, meaningless. Nothing he's done... has had any meaning. This, he supposes, is how it's going to be. A life of lies, devoid of truth.
He hopes Azula's skill in deception is in his blood too, or he is damned for sure.