Avatar ficbit. The Fire Priestess
Sep. 12th, 2006 12:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
moonsheenAvatar: The Last Airbender fic. Mostly a "c'mon this would be TOTALLY COOL" fic. And a belated happy birthday to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
memlu. No spoilers. But it probably only makes sense having seen "Zuko Alone."
They called her the fire priestess, because there was no doubt in anyone’s mind from whence she came. She had walked up the many, many steps to the shrine alone one evening, and none of the acolytes saw it right to turn her away.
She wore a veil and heavy cloaks, hiding her face in that dark shadowed half moon. Her lips were plain and unpainted; although they curved in such a way many could imagine how they would look in such splendor. She fed the birds in the courtyards. She poured water ritualistically on the flat dark stones of the inner chamber, so that one might be worthy to step upon it in prayer. She picked the finest dry tinder to be fed to the temple fire, feeding them with a series of sharp cracks as she snapped them in her hands. The flames flourished under her care. She would stay there for many hours, and this is how her title was won: the fire seemed to like her, and fire’s favor was a hard one to win.
On occasion she would descend to help tend to the wounded from the war. There was a port city not so far, where the injured were routinely brought from skirmishes with the Earth Kingdom. Crushed and broken, she would hold a lit branch a little above her head as she walked through. It was wood dipped in thick scents so that it burned holy: good for healing, it was said. Men would for search for her eyes and find only her smile; tight and strangely purposeful. Oh lady, they’d say. And the more delirious ones in their battered and twisted armor sometimes said: oh, my sovereign.
“Shh,” she would say, “Shh.”
The acolytes adored her, and began taking her instruction. She taught them many things. How to walk with grace. How to hold crackling torches in a level hand. How to take the exiles whom swore to disillusionment to the black stones and caverns behind the shrine and keep them there until the time was right.
The art of tending to fire was one of understanding immediacy. The art of building an army was one of patience.
“So, wait.” The young man from the water tribe was beginning to look doubtful. This was actually unfair: he’d been doubtful the second he’d seen the stairs. “We walked…all that way.”
“Yes,” said the Fire Priestess, crouched in front of them in her rustling robes. They were black, to hide the soot. She held a bowl in her hand and carefully poured its contents on the stones between them. “We appreciate your efforts.”
The young man bristled. “Through enemy territory--” he started, brazenly.
“Sokka!” said his sister sharply. The Avatar was beginning to look a little uncomfortable, though his eyes hadn’t left her hands as they set the bowl down and waved over the bronze of the basin. They’d made the flames burn low in observance of sunset, when everything waned.
“We turn away no one,” said the Fire Priestess.
“And you’re saying you’ll teach Aang here,” the young man jerked his head to indicate Avatar, “But we have to do you a favor. Okay. So what kind of favor are we talking about.”
The fire priestess nodded. “One.” She held up a finger, helpfully.
“Oh, greeeat. One!” he turned to his companions. “Hear that? Crazy nail lady says it’s just one!”
“We’ll do it,” said the Avatar softly.
The young man nearly choked. “What.”
The fire priestess turned to them, the flames a soft glow at her back. They crackled soothingly, sleepily. It was good; they would glow all through the night. “It is said Avatar Roku once stopped here to pay tribute on his way to the islands that were once off this coast. He stayed for six days, during which time the shrine fires burned most amazingly. So you see, this place has a history beyond the pursuits of the Fire Lord.”
She touched her fingers to the corners of her veil. “… and I suppose even Avatar Roku had missed his childhood home.”
“What is it you want me to do?”
“We are so doing this backwards…” griped the water tribe youth.
His sister smacked him.
The fire priestess merely smiled, and stepped off the dais, and onto the steaming steps. She stepped down; pulling her veil back in the same movement it took for her to kneel before them.
Dark, familiar eyes met the Avatar’s. They stared up at him, hard and grave but perhaps a little sad.
“Help my son.”
She could have shown him the things she’d saved with which to do it. She could have shown him the treasure she kept in a box in her chamber: the gold ornament she had taken with her into exile. She didn’t. Not yet. The boy seemed satisfied with simply her plea.
“I’ll do it,” he said, just as sure as before, and a little more like a promise.
“Thank you.”
“Hm,” said the girl. “We should go tell Toph and Appa we’ll be staying here for a bit…”
“Hey,” said her brother to the Avatar, “Do we even KNOW the guy she’s talking about?”
“Yes,” said the child. To one or other, it was the same answer. He turned and walked out of the shrine.
memlu. No spoilers. But it probably only makes sense having seen "Zuko Alone."They called her the fire priestess, because there was no doubt in anyone’s mind from whence she came. She had walked up the many, many steps to the shrine alone one evening, and none of the acolytes saw it right to turn her away.
She wore a veil and heavy cloaks, hiding her face in that dark shadowed half moon. Her lips were plain and unpainted; although they curved in such a way many could imagine how they would look in such splendor. She fed the birds in the courtyards. She poured water ritualistically on the flat dark stones of the inner chamber, so that one might be worthy to step upon it in prayer. She picked the finest dry tinder to be fed to the temple fire, feeding them with a series of sharp cracks as she snapped them in her hands. The flames flourished under her care. She would stay there for many hours, and this is how her title was won: the fire seemed to like her, and fire’s favor was a hard one to win.
On occasion she would descend to help tend to the wounded from the war. There was a port city not so far, where the injured were routinely brought from skirmishes with the Earth Kingdom. Crushed and broken, she would hold a lit branch a little above her head as she walked through. It was wood dipped in thick scents so that it burned holy: good for healing, it was said. Men would for search for her eyes and find only her smile; tight and strangely purposeful. Oh lady, they’d say. And the more delirious ones in their battered and twisted armor sometimes said: oh, my sovereign.
“Shh,” she would say, “Shh.”
The acolytes adored her, and began taking her instruction. She taught them many things. How to walk with grace. How to hold crackling torches in a level hand. How to take the exiles whom swore to disillusionment to the black stones and caverns behind the shrine and keep them there until the time was right.
The art of tending to fire was one of understanding immediacy. The art of building an army was one of patience.
“So, wait.” The young man from the water tribe was beginning to look doubtful. This was actually unfair: he’d been doubtful the second he’d seen the stairs. “We walked…all that way.”
“Yes,” said the Fire Priestess, crouched in front of them in her rustling robes. They were black, to hide the soot. She held a bowl in her hand and carefully poured its contents on the stones between them. “We appreciate your efforts.”
The young man bristled. “Through enemy territory--” he started, brazenly.
“Sokka!” said his sister sharply. The Avatar was beginning to look a little uncomfortable, though his eyes hadn’t left her hands as they set the bowl down and waved over the bronze of the basin. They’d made the flames burn low in observance of sunset, when everything waned.
“We turn away no one,” said the Fire Priestess.
“And you’re saying you’ll teach Aang here,” the young man jerked his head to indicate Avatar, “But we have to do you a favor. Okay. So what kind of favor are we talking about.”
The fire priestess nodded. “One.” She held up a finger, helpfully.
“Oh, greeeat. One!” he turned to his companions. “Hear that? Crazy nail lady says it’s just one!”
“We’ll do it,” said the Avatar softly.
The young man nearly choked. “What.”
The fire priestess turned to them, the flames a soft glow at her back. They crackled soothingly, sleepily. It was good; they would glow all through the night. “It is said Avatar Roku once stopped here to pay tribute on his way to the islands that were once off this coast. He stayed for six days, during which time the shrine fires burned most amazingly. So you see, this place has a history beyond the pursuits of the Fire Lord.”
She touched her fingers to the corners of her veil. “… and I suppose even Avatar Roku had missed his childhood home.”
“What is it you want me to do?”
“We are so doing this backwards…” griped the water tribe youth.
His sister smacked him.
The fire priestess merely smiled, and stepped off the dais, and onto the steaming steps. She stepped down; pulling her veil back in the same movement it took for her to kneel before them.
Dark, familiar eyes met the Avatar’s. They stared up at him, hard and grave but perhaps a little sad.
“Help my son.”
She could have shown him the things she’d saved with which to do it. She could have shown him the treasure she kept in a box in her chamber: the gold ornament she had taken with her into exile. She didn’t. Not yet. The boy seemed satisfied with simply her plea.
“I’ll do it,” he said, just as sure as before, and a little more like a promise.
“Thank you.”
“Hm,” said the girl. “We should go tell Toph and Appa we’ll be staying here for a bit…”
“Hey,” said her brother to the Avatar, “Do we even KNOW the guy she’s talking about?”
“Yes,” said the child. To one or other, it was the same answer. He turned and walked out of the shrine.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2006-09-12 09:11 pm (UTC)Zuko and his past is easily the most engaging thing about the show for me. Thank you for making me squirm and think OH GOD HE HAS TO BE HAPPY EVENTUALLY.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-09-12 11:09 pm (UTC)Oh.
I see your "this would be totally cool" and raise you a "this would be about the BEST THING EVER." Not only is the idea a knockout but your style in this fic makes me feel light-headed enough that I need to sit down for a while and try to cope with such brilliance.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-24 05:27 am (UTC)This is really wonderful - I love the Fire Nation characters and their pasts :)