Untitled (Avatar: The Last Airbender, Zuko/Iroh, PG-13)
Title: Untitled
Author: silver_magess
Rating: PG-13
Warning(s): mentions of alcohol and hints of one sided incest.
Prompt: Avatar, Zuko/Iroh - love-lust issues - Zuko trying to press the issue at a point when he's confused and needing affection, Iroh having to gently dissuade him.
Word count: 760
A/N: Set during Season 1, after any number of times when Zuko failed to capture Aang. Also, it's been a while since I watched Avatar, so I might be rusty on some details.
"Prince Zuko," Iroh's voiced quietly echoed as he opened the door to his nephew's bed chamber. He spied his Zuko sitting on the edge of his bed, a cup of what was no doubt tea in his hand. "Aww, so you have finally discovered the joys of tea," Iroh chuckled as he made his way over towards Zuko, gingerly sitting down when the boy gave a small grunt. "So…"
"Uncle, he was right in front of me!," Zuko hissed as his hand gripped the cup, body shaking. "I let him get away! Again! What's wrong with me?" There was a slightly more plaintive note to Zuko's voice than usual and Iroh couldn't help but ache for the lad even as he tried to keep his demeanor light and jovial.
Gingerly, he reached a hand out towards his nephew, resting it on his shoulder, causing the boy to tense. "Prince Zuko, all things have their time and their place. Perhaps it just isn't time to capture-" The hard shove wasn't unexpected, but it was the open grief in his nephew's voice that took Iroh by surprise.
"When will it be time? When?" Zuko looked Iroh full in the face, hand gripping his uncle's shirt tightly. There was a flush across his nephew's face, one that struck Iroh as familiar, though he couldn't place it. "Uncle, I-nothing makes sense anymore," Zuko sat up on his knees, the cup of tea spilling over as it dangled from his hand.
"Nephew, Nephew, what have I told you about wasting tea?" Iroh gently laughed as he carefully reached over and extracted the cup from Zuko's hand, causing the boy to let go of Iroh's clothing. Out of curiosity, Iroh brought the cup up to his nose, wondering what had caused his nephew to seek out the drink on his own. Iroh cringed when he realized that it wasn't tea that had been soothing his nephew's soul, but the far older standby of wine. "Prince Zuko, where did you get this?" Iroh's forced any hint of anger or worry out of his voice as he sat the cup down on the nearby night stand.
"Confiscated it," he murmured, unwilling to elaborate further. Iroh sighed, a sad smile on his face and prepared himself to lecture on the poor points of drinking away one's troubles. He had a pretty good speech made up in his head, only to be interrupted by Zuko jerking on his beard, forcing them face to face, breath to breath.
"Uncle. I. Don't. Need. Speeches." Zuko bit off every word and it was then that Iroh fully recognized the flush on his nephew's face for what it was. Not just the heat of alcohol and a little too much anger, but something much more primordial and far more dangerous. There was a touch of terror in his chest, along with an aching tenderness for this Prince who had been led too far astray by his emotions.
Gently, Iroh placed both hands on Zuko's shoulders, pressing until his nephew's grip finally relented and the boy sat back, looking at him desperately. This wasn't something he'd been prepared for when he became a father, nor when he'd taken Zuko under his wing. All he could do was retreat for moment. "Prince Zuko, you need to lie down and have a little rest. So much drink isn't good for one so young," Iroh smiled as he stood up, stopping Zuko's protest by once again laying hands on the boy's shoulders and forcing him to lay down on his side.
For a moment, Zuko looked like he was about to protest, only to then grumble and roll away so that he was looking at the wall. A little relieved, Iroh glanced around in hopes that he could find the bottle that had wrought this, but seeing none in sight, decided to put the matter aside for the moment. No doubt Zuko would feel foolish enough in morning that he'd avoid drink for the rest of his adolescent life. "Good Night Nephew. In the morning, I shall brew you a cup of much needed tea," Iroh smiled as his cleverness as he headed towards the door.
"Uncle?" Zuko's voice was a raspy whisper. Pausing with his hand resting on the door handle, Iroh waited, shoulders tense. "Will it ever be time?"
Shaking his head, Iroh smiled sadly. "Only if you get some rest." The only answer he received was an angry snort. "Sleep well, my Prince," Iroh said as he exited the room, not envying Zuko's coming hangover.
Author: silver_magess
Rating: PG-13
Warning(s): mentions of alcohol and hints of one sided incest.
Prompt: Avatar, Zuko/Iroh - love-lust issues - Zuko trying to press the issue at a point when he's confused and needing affection, Iroh having to gently dissuade him.
Word count: 760
A/N: Set during Season 1, after any number of times when Zuko failed to capture Aang. Also, it's been a while since I watched Avatar, so I might be rusty on some details.
"Prince Zuko," Iroh's voiced quietly echoed as he opened the door to his nephew's bed chamber. He spied his Zuko sitting on the edge of his bed, a cup of what was no doubt tea in his hand. "Aww, so you have finally discovered the joys of tea," Iroh chuckled as he made his way over towards Zuko, gingerly sitting down when the boy gave a small grunt. "So…"
"Uncle, he was right in front of me!," Zuko hissed as his hand gripped the cup, body shaking. "I let him get away! Again! What's wrong with me?" There was a slightly more plaintive note to Zuko's voice than usual and Iroh couldn't help but ache for the lad even as he tried to keep his demeanor light and jovial.
Gingerly, he reached a hand out towards his nephew, resting it on his shoulder, causing the boy to tense. "Prince Zuko, all things have their time and their place. Perhaps it just isn't time to capture-" The hard shove wasn't unexpected, but it was the open grief in his nephew's voice that took Iroh by surprise.
"When will it be time? When?" Zuko looked Iroh full in the face, hand gripping his uncle's shirt tightly. There was a flush across his nephew's face, one that struck Iroh as familiar, though he couldn't place it. "Uncle, I-nothing makes sense anymore," Zuko sat up on his knees, the cup of tea spilling over as it dangled from his hand.
"Nephew, Nephew, what have I told you about wasting tea?" Iroh gently laughed as he carefully reached over and extracted the cup from Zuko's hand, causing the boy to let go of Iroh's clothing. Out of curiosity, Iroh brought the cup up to his nose, wondering what had caused his nephew to seek out the drink on his own. Iroh cringed when he realized that it wasn't tea that had been soothing his nephew's soul, but the far older standby of wine. "Prince Zuko, where did you get this?" Iroh's forced any hint of anger or worry out of his voice as he sat the cup down on the nearby night stand.
"Confiscated it," he murmured, unwilling to elaborate further. Iroh sighed, a sad smile on his face and prepared himself to lecture on the poor points of drinking away one's troubles. He had a pretty good speech made up in his head, only to be interrupted by Zuko jerking on his beard, forcing them face to face, breath to breath.
"Uncle. I. Don't. Need. Speeches." Zuko bit off every word and it was then that Iroh fully recognized the flush on his nephew's face for what it was. Not just the heat of alcohol and a little too much anger, but something much more primordial and far more dangerous. There was a touch of terror in his chest, along with an aching tenderness for this Prince who had been led too far astray by his emotions.
Gently, Iroh placed both hands on Zuko's shoulders, pressing until his nephew's grip finally relented and the boy sat back, looking at him desperately. This wasn't something he'd been prepared for when he became a father, nor when he'd taken Zuko under his wing. All he could do was retreat for moment. "Prince Zuko, you need to lie down and have a little rest. So much drink isn't good for one so young," Iroh smiled as he stood up, stopping Zuko's protest by once again laying hands on the boy's shoulders and forcing him to lay down on his side.
For a moment, Zuko looked like he was about to protest, only to then grumble and roll away so that he was looking at the wall. A little relieved, Iroh glanced around in hopes that he could find the bottle that had wrought this, but seeing none in sight, decided to put the matter aside for the moment. No doubt Zuko would feel foolish enough in morning that he'd avoid drink for the rest of his adolescent life. "Good Night Nephew. In the morning, I shall brew you a cup of much needed tea," Iroh smiled as his cleverness as he headed towards the door.
"Uncle?" Zuko's voice was a raspy whisper. Pausing with his hand resting on the door handle, Iroh waited, shoulders tense. "Will it ever be time?"
Shaking his head, Iroh smiled sadly. "Only if you get some rest." The only answer he received was an angry snort. "Sleep well, my Prince," Iroh said as he exited the room, not envying Zuko's coming hangover.