(Untitled)

[songofthedeep]

Who: Cerceus and Zuko, theoretically open
When: Afternoon
Where: The Lake
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Cy's cussing, possible sexual references
Summary: Zuko wants to learn to swim. Hey, when you've got Eternity, you might as well pick up some new skills...

Comments

[theburningpath]

Zuko didn't tell Coramir where he was going. He didn't exactly lie - he had told him that he was going to see Cy, and that was true. He just hadn't clarified that he was going to learn how to swim. He was a little afraid that Coramir would be insulted that he had chosen to ask Cy for help instead of him. And Zuko was not confident in his ability to explain why.

The exasperating madness with the animals had finally stopped, and it was back to eerie silence as Zuko walked through the woods to the lake. He was grateful that at least the sun was still shining beautifully. He didn't even bother with a shirt - it just seemed kind of pointless, given that he was going to be in the water for most of the visit.

"Cy?" he called out as he approached the break in the trees, to announce his presence.

[songofthedeep]

Cerceus glanced up and smirked at the approaching firebender. "All right, Zu?" he called. "Nice day for it, yeah?" He set the drums aside gratefully and rolled his head about his neck, listening to it crack and gasping as several vertebrae realigned. That done, he flopped down so he could stretch the rest of his back, arms twisting above his head as his back arched off the ground.

[theburningpath]

The nickname gave Zuko pause, his steps slowing momentarily, before he continued crossing the field and sat down near Cy's resting place. The only person to ever use a nickname for him had been Azula, and even when she wasn't actively seeking to harm him there had been something belittling and malicious in her voice. It was strange to find that tone lacking.

"As nice as it always is," he said dryly, and then furrowed his brow, looking at the project Cy had been working on. "....what's that?"

[songofthedeep]

"Oh... got sick of having nothing but the effing harp," Cy told him cheerfully. "It's a set of hand drums. The bigger one's finished... go ahead, give it a try." He rolled onto his stomach to watch. "Got it stretched nice and tight there, should hold up well enough. Figured there's no party without music, and music's pointless without dancing, and who dances to a bloody lap harp anyway? A beach party, you need drums. Shoulda made more, then we'd have had a circle."