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“Nooo, it’s gotta be red. See?” A three-year-old Korra corrected, handing her grandmother a different marker.
Tilting her head contemplatively, Azula acquiesced. “Mm. I do see. If we’re making the stems red, what shall we make the petals?” It took everything in her not to melt at the cute way her grandchild thought it over. Wrinkled brows, bright eyes narrowed, and the tip of a pink tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth. You look just like your mom.
“Oh! Lello! Mhm. Is that your favorite, mizu?” She asked excitedly, gathering up and comparing the different shades at her disposal. Settling on an ochre colored pencil for herself and a canary crayon for the alpha. The same alpha who’d long ago given up on correcting the pup’s butchered attempt on the word.
“Is yellow my favorite? No, I don’t think so.” The woman admitted, carefully blending the wax into the outlines she’d made for them earlier. The refute shocked her grandpup out of her concentration. Enough so that she pulled up on her knees and stared at her concernedly.
“It’s not?” The toddler asked, worrying her bottom lip while she looked around the den they were hunkered down in. Sensing the shift, Azula paused and gave Korra her full attention. Following the path of her curious eyes and back to her ‘thinking face.’
She looked genuinely frazzled by the news, like the wind had been taken right out of her sails completely. “I do like yellow, Korra. It’s just not my favorite. Why do you ask, my love?” She probed, gently poking the ticklish little devil in the belly.
With a reluctant grin, the pup sighed dramatically, “You got a bunch of lello things, mizu! Everywhere!” She exclaimed, gesturing wildly. Raising a sharp brow, the alpha took another visual lap and well, she’s not wrong.
Chuckling, she moved from lying on her stomach onto her knees, mirroring the tot before she settled on her rear. “You got me there. Red, gold, and black are the colors of the Fire Nation. I suppose growing up around decorations like these has contributed to my own style more than I thought.” She confessed more to herself really.
The little girl didn’t care so much about that as she did about more important matters, “What is your favorite?” She inquired. Waddling over their supplies to peer up into eyes that sometimes looked yellow to her too.
Staring right back at her unwavering gaze, a kaleidoscope of greens and blues blended in her mind’s eye. Taking her granddaughter’s hands in her own, she rubbed mildly arthritic thumbs over the backs of dimpled skin. “I think I’d better show you instead.”
Those big, impossibly blue orbs lit up with glee. It wasn’t often that she was allowed passage into the art studio, being clumsy as she were, but any time that she was never failed to be the best parts of her visits. Well, that and the snacks.
Nodding her head rapidly, she scrambled to pick up as many of their crafts as possible. Wrinkled pieces of paper and one or two crayons were clutched tightly to her chest as she waited, with very little patience, for the woman to gather up the rest.
Together, they made their way to the sacred room where Azula had long ago re-installed Lin’s old easel and workstation next to her own. Anything that wasn’t framed and hanging up had been carefully shielded from the elements, and sticky fingers, under heavy dustcovers.
Hurriedly, Korra placed her supplies atop her mini desk before donning an apron. Rocking from side-to-side with barely contained excitement, she waited and waited and waited for the alpha to finish with her own setup. Her curiosity only grew when the woman carefully pulled a wrapped canvas taller and wider than the double doors leading into the room from its hiding space behind several smaller ones.
“Stay riiight there, okay?” She instructed and had to ignore a petulant pout while she cleared the workbench in the back to lay the mystery piece across the high surface. After freeing it from its drapes, she stepped back and eyed her most cherished creation yet.
After what felt like literal hours, her grandmother turned and clapped once. “Alright, this one is special. I haven’t finished it yet, and you’re the first to see it.” Now that peaked the toddler’s interest tenfold. A toothy grin split her face comically, and despite the lingering dye from the multiple popsicles the alpha wasn’t supposed to allow her to consume, it was all too endearing. I’ve gone soft in my old age.
Shaking the sobering thought away, she closed the gap between them, extended her arms, and hoisted the tyke up on her hip. “Ready?” She asked wryly, absolutely taken by the ruddy cheeks and tilted grin that reminded her of a baby who just wasn’t so anymore but would always be in her heart.
“YEAH!” Korra shouted, oblivious to the impact such a thing could impart not even a foot away from the poor woman’s ear. Following a wince, Azula huffed and strode back to the piece she’d been slaving over. Supporting the pup as she leaned over to investigate, she felt the tempo beneath her fingers quicken.
Whipping her head back and forth to take in the sheer size of the damn thing, the toddler was at a brief loss for words. Despite her age, she had an awareness of her mizu’s skills. She’d grown up around her art, and had even been the muse for several pieces since her birth, but this? This was startling even to her.
So many familiar faces born of acrylic paints met her gaze head on. No one in particular stood out more than another. Pointing, but not quite touching, she whispered, “It’s us.” A small amount of pride shone through a normally stoic visage at the awe in her grandbaby’s voice. The alpha wasn’t ashamed to say that such high praise from the pup meant quite a bit to her.
“Indeed.” She hushed, observing from her vantage point that even working from memory alone, she managed to get her eye color just right. Down to even the tiniest flecks of green near her pupils. They stood quietly together. Korra taking in the likenesses of herself, her cousins, aunt, sire, and grandma with equal appreciation and shock. The grandsire simply enjoying her company. Eventually, the tot pulled back and asked, “We’re your favorite colors?”
Chuckling, Azula squeezed her close, kissing a chubby cheek, “Yes, you all are my favorite colors. Especially these.” She pointed to the many differing shades of green in all of their relatives’ eyes. The milky sage of Toph’s unseeing ones, the near-matching emeralds of Su, Jr., Vira, Huan, and Opal, the more memorable jade of Lin’s, then finally; her own. The starkest contrast of all. Cyan and pacific mostly, but blue to anyone who didn’t care to ask.
Suddenly bashful, the little girl rested her head in the crook of her neck, sighing as she warmed under the scent of spiced rum and coffee. Rubbing her back, the woman returned them to their easels where she set the unusually quiet child down so they could finish up their wildflowers.
Losing herself in the moment, the alpha hadn’t noticed the prolonged staring until her own apron was gently tugged. Unhanding her designated crayon, she knelt down to Korra’s level where she was promptly tackled into a fierce hug. Mumbling caused her to pull away, “What was that?”
“You’re one of my favorite colors too!”
She didn’t tear up, no one has any proof. There was just—something in her eye. “That’s very sweet of you, my love.” She nearly choked. As she made to rise, a little hand slipped into her own, squeezing tight and pulling her to her finished flowers.
Plucking the paper with her free hand, the pup smiled brightly, “I like lello cuz it looks like your eyes sometimes, mizu.” She stated sincerely, searching honeyed hazels that appeared to soften the longer she held them in full.
“Really?” Azula asked receiving a happy nod in response. “Well, ahem, what do you say we put these on the fridge, hmm?” Seeing that winning smile again was well worth the deafening squeal.
It would take years, too many for Korra to admit aloud, for her to find the proper shades to match her grandsire’s in a portrait she worked on for almost as long. Bungalow with streaks of Christmas gold that she’d never seen anywhere else.
It hung, memorialized in the studio even after she inherited the house sometime later still, right next to the crude renditions of her first wildflowers.