Crowns Do Weigh Heavy
Jun. 20th, 2020 08:43 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
When the door to the Fire Palace opens and Zuko walks through, it's what qualifies as night on both sides of the bar. (At least, as night occurs in Bar's simulated cycle.) The once-prince, now-lord has seen better days and certainly kinder nights, with bruising under his eyes and the haunted look of one who has seen terrors that refuse to leave entirely.
There was a lot that happened these last -- ten, God, was it ten now? Almost? No, not quite, not quite there. No. But close enough that he can still remember the stink of his own burning flesh. His mind revisits the glow of his father's fiery hand and the afterimages it left against his retina.
There are new things, too. The Kyoshi warriors handled his fourth assassination attempt recently, and all he can think is how that his father knew how to deal with this. Mostly by being a tyrant, but still. Ozai knew the costs of rule, and Zuko is learning them as they cut a little bit more from him.
Zuko isn't a tyrant, though; he's an exhausted young man who has nightmares and insomnia, instead. He asks for warm milk from the bar, plain, and takes up a chair by the fire, though he does not look at it. Instead, he watches Milliways and sips his drink, letting old ghosts be driven from his mind by a warm hearth and the soft soft sounds of the bar at night.
There was a lot that happened these last -- ten, God, was it ten now? Almost? No, not quite, not quite there. No. But close enough that he can still remember the stink of his own burning flesh. His mind revisits the glow of his father's fiery hand and the afterimages it left against his retina.
There are new things, too. The Kyoshi warriors handled his fourth assassination attempt recently, and all he can think is how that his father knew how to deal with this. Mostly by being a tyrant, but still. Ozai knew the costs of rule, and Zuko is learning them as they cut a little bit more from him.
Zuko isn't a tyrant, though; he's an exhausted young man who has nightmares and insomnia, instead. He asks for warm milk from the bar, plain, and takes up a chair by the fire, though he does not look at it. Instead, he watches Milliways and sips his drink, letting old ghosts be driven from his mind by a warm hearth and the soft soft sounds of the bar at night.