Brushwork

By Foxy Pentapus

Title: Brushwork
Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Pairing: Zuko/Mai
Spoilers: very mild, Season 2 up to Episode 7, "Zuko Alone"
Warnings: None
Word count: 1100
Notes: Handmade gifts are the best kind.

He was sitting by the pond again, under the tree. Mai had ventured out into the courtyard hoping to find him there, but now that she had arrived, she hesitated, swallowing. Prince Zuko was seated with his back against the trunk of the tree, gazing at the water. Since his mother had gone away, this was where he spent most of his free hours. Mai couldn't see his face clearly from where she was standing, but she could guess at his expression. It would be the one he always wore.

This is stupid, she told herself. I can't do this. If she went back to her rooms now, no one would know what she'd planned to do. Yes. She should go back. As she was about to leave, however, she heard a noise behind her and jumped, whirling to see who was there. If Azula found her here-- No, thankfully it was just one of the palace guards making his rounds. She relaxed. The man didn't so much as glance at her. She breathed a sigh of relief and turned around.

Mai's heart sank. Her sudden movement must have caught the prince's attention. He was watching her, scowling. She had no choice now. To turn and flee at this point would make her look ridiculous. She tightened her hand on the scroll she was holding, steeled herself, and began to walk towards him.

Zuko's scowl didn't falter, and neither did his gaze. He watched her in silence with narrowed eyes. As she walked towards him, her feet seemed to turn slowly to lead. This was how a condemned man must feel, taking his final steps towards his pyre.

Once she was within a few paces of the seated prince, she stopped and gave a slight bow of her head. "Hello."

"What do you want?" Zuko demanded.

Mai could feel her face heat. She hoped he didn't notice. This was such a terrible idea. What had possessed her? "Here." She extended her arm, presenting him with the scroll. It was rolled up, tied with a red silk ribbon.

Zuko stared at the scroll in her hand. For the first time, his expression changed. The scowl didn't leave him, but his eyes widened. "What's this?"

She kept her voice steady. "I made it for you."

His eyes narrowed again. "Is this a joke?"

"No."

Zuko sighed. "You can go tell Azula that I don't think she's funny."

"It's not a joke," said Mai calmly. She felt nauseous. Her arm was still outstretched. Was it her imagination, or was the scroll burning her palm? She wished he would take it. Otherwise, she was going to drop it.

Uncertainty flickered across Zuko's face. "It had better not be," he said, and, to her relief, snatched the scroll from her hand.

She watched as he jerked on one end of the ribbon. It came undone and fell to the ground. He unrolled the scroll with one abrupt tug and held it in both hands, frowning as he examined it.

She had wanted to make something for him, but the only time she ever made anything was during her painting lessons at the academy. So she'd painted him a picture. Her teacher had said that this one showed marked improvement, not that that was saying much. She hated her art lessons and failed miserably at them. Unfortunately, a young lady of her class was expected to know how to paint, so she dutifully put brush to paper week after week, forcing herself to approximate the assigned subjects with clumsy brushstrokes.

She greatly preferred her Shuriken-jutsu lessons. Art was so different from knifework. So imprecise. So confusing. She hated it. If she had to work with brushes, she wished she could have taken extra calligraphy lessons instead. Calligraphy, at least, had rules. There was a right way to do things, a way the pictographs were supposed to look. But she hadn't wanted to copy out a poem for him. That would have been even more stupid.

Her painting was of a firebird, its wings outstretched as it flew through a sky dotted with a few lopsided clouds. Firebirds were a classical theme. Firebirds and koi and flowers and mountains: in her lessons, they studied the masters' representations of such themes, then painted their own versions. She couldn't see the point of those exercises, but nonetheless, as she watched Prince Zuko scrutinize her painting, she hoped he would like it at least a little.

He looked up at her. "This is awful. Your brushwork is sloppy."

She blinked. It took her a moment to reply. "I know. I'm not very good."

Zuko breathed in deeply, as if he were about to Firebend. For a moment, she almost thought he was going to set her painting on fire, and she cringed inwardly. But he was only breathing. He exhaled, and there were no flames. His brows were knitted as he ducked his head, focusing his gaze on her painting again.

She wanted to turn around and leave, but she couldn't. Her feet were glued to the ground, and she couldn't lift them. At any moment, she imagined, she would hear Azula's harsh laughter ring in her ears, and then the situation would be as bad as it could possibly get. It was fated. She resigned herself.

Zuko raised his head again at last. Mai prepared for another criticism, but what the prince mumbled next was too low for her to hear.

"What did you say?" she asked him.

He spoke up, if only barely. "Your calligraphy," he said. "It's nice."

She had written her name on the scroll, next to the misshapen firebird. "Thank you," she said.

He let out a rough sigh. "You're welcome." He rolled up the scroll and tucked it under his arm as he returned to his original position, leaning back against the tree, facing the pond.

Mai couldn't think of anything else to say. She turned to leave when another sharp breath from the prince arrested her. "Thanks," he said.

She didn't turn around. "You're welcome."

Once she was back within the palace, it was only a matter of minutes before Mai encountered Azula. Her friend was lurking in the hallway leading to Mai's own chambers. Azula placed her hands firmly on her hips, her eyes shining. "Where have you been?"

"Nowhere," Mai said, keeping her gaze steady. "I was looking for you."

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