Koifish fic!
So, I think Chaucer officially short-circuited my brain. I'm sick of him and his stupid Wife of Bath and his stupid Middle English and his stupid awesome Chaucer-ness. [Also, Big Bang woe D:] Obviously, this means only one thing: I write ATLA fic! And, yeah, I know that makes absolutely no damn sense whatsoever, but whatever. Koifish-fic!
Title: Can’t Give You Anything But This
Characters: Tui, La, Yue
Rating: PG (for briefly mentioned violence)
Word count: ~1300
Warnings: Spoilers for The Seige of the North, Part II
Summary: The Moon Spirit is always running, and the Spirit of the Ocean, she will always follow.
General Disclaimers apply. Avatar: the Last Airbender and all related people, places, things and possibly ideas belong to Nickelodeon, Michael DiMartino, Bryan Konjetzko a bunch of brilliant folks who are Most Decidedly Not Me. I am making no money off of this and no copyright infringement is intended.
PS: unbetaed because I don’t have an ATLA beta; also, it’s come to my attention that I can’t seem to give anything I write a short, concise name. I think it’s like a disease. Or something. Oh and ALSO! elements of femmeslash, although I don't technically consider it so because they're spirits, but still. If that squicks you, you may not want to read this.
Since before recorded history, La has had to chase after Tui, running with the speed of raging floods, laughing after her when La would be so close she could hear Tui’s genial teasing. La no longer remembers how the game began, only that there had been a time, once, where they were still; it was loud and dangerous and out-of-balance then, and yet, Tui had said that existence was so boring, and so she ran. And when La ran after her, so accustomed to sharing in Tui’s strength, the chi of the world began to coalesce differently. The other spirits urged them onwards, and how could La possibly stop, after she’d had a taste of this new delight? In the thrill of wanting, this anxious yearning that consumed her when Tui was only a hairsbreadth away and yet never close enough?
“Catch me La!” Tui calls, always the same, always a smile in her voice and La does as she’s asked, follows after her.
There comes a time, however, when Tui becomes interested in something besides their little game. There is something in the world just beyond theirs that fills Tui with so much wonder and amazement that she almost forgets the game entirely.
“It is life,” La tells her because La is sometimes under it and all around it; in times of almost-waking she is almost in that world, can feel life pulsing in and around her.
“Life,” Tui repeats, her voice strong and excited. “You have seen it?”
“Only sometimes,” La admits. “It belongs in the other world.”
Tui has never been to the other world, and La finds it so endearing, how Tui’s wonder is sparked when La tells her of her corporeal form. When La is in that other world, she says, she feels unending and powerful, dark and dangerous. And so Tui decides that she wants to know her own corporeal form, and so they meditate, for hours and hours. This time it is La who is guiding the way, who pulls Tui along until, fully awake, they find their way there.
It is different than how La remembers it from her waking dreams, everything is sharper and more detailed, and for one terrifying second, she cannot find Tui, thinks perhaps she left her somewhere in limbo, lost to La forever. But Tui is bright and beautiful somewhere high above her, shining light upon the world entire. It is La who is moving now, back and forth along miles of shorelines and banks, and Tui is so, so still above her, breathtaking in her silent repose.
Yet it is tiring for La to be everywhere at once, and likewise, La knows Tui cannot stay still for very long, and so finally they return to their lives, where Tui runs off and La follows after her. And this would be fine for La; she has no real interest in the other world except to gaze upon the face of Tui, but something has caught Tui in a way La has never been able to. La follows Tui into the other world more and more often, feels her other form becoming harder to resume as the ages pass, until one day Tui asks of La what she would do if Tui gave up her immortality entirely to live in that world forever.
La laughs because Tui cannot be serious; she cannot think to deny everything that she is and pretend at humanity, but Tui only frowns at her, and La realizes then, to her horror, that Tui is serious in this.
“I will follow you wherever you may go,” La finally answers hesitantly; it is, after all, the truth.
“We are halves of a whole,” Tui confirms, and her smile is bright enough to fill up the darkness of the other world.
La does not say that she thinks this might no longer be true. They were once halves, yes, and together they were balance. Now, however, it feels more like Tui has found a life outside of La, and La is forced along, pulled by the bloody heartstrings Tui has forever in her grasp, like some beautiful puppet master.
When they make the change, La is frightened. It is different from before, because now they have earthly life, and La can feel her life-force beat thunderously throughout her tiny, meaty body. She hates it, wants to bash against the coast and suffocate until she sees Tui beside her. She is swimming lazy circles around La, content for now with La’s presence. She is so happy. Their mortal forms cannot speak, nor can they smile or laugh or cry, but La can feel Tui’s happiness, and for now that is enough.
Sometimes, La thinks she can still hear Tui’s voice, softly calling out to her.
”Catch me La,” Tui says but does-not-say, and La does as she’s asked and swims after her. The only difference now is that Tui swims after La too, and so they begin to circle one another, and the game is somehow different from before yet very much the same.
Tui is killed one night, by man and fire and hatred. Tui floats dead upon the surface of their home, and the world goes grey for ten long, agonizing minutes. La is blind with her rage, cannot think of anything beyond the revenge that boils in her blood. Tui gave up everything to be among these beings: men, women, and animals that filled up existence with life, and the only way they repay her is by the taking of her life? La cannot believe it, wishes for one bloodthirsty minute that she had her old form again, for such terror and destruction would she have reigned upon the world were it not for the confines of her mortal form.
And yet, there is a boy, with a chi that is cool and soothing like water itself, of both the old and carnal worlds, and he takes La into his arms and helps her sate her bloodlust. It feels like La’s grief has turned her mad, since never before was she an angry spirit, but now she drowns those who have done her wrong, destroys and murders that which Tui loved so much.
It is not until the moon shines bright in the sky again that La’s sanity comes back to her. She sets the boy (Aang, his spirit whispers to her) down among those who worship her and comes home to Tui swimming ragged, half-circles around their small pond.
Tui is different now; she is tinged with human life, with memories that are not her own, and sometimes she calls herself Yue. Yue always speaks of a boy who stole her heart, a mortal, human boy who lives his life without her and sometimes asks for her guidance. She will be happy to help him, Yue always says, as it is the least she can do for the man she loves more than life itself.
Tui and Yue are different and the same. They share life and purpose; Yue shines bright in the sky the way La has always loved, and Tui circles her in an eternal dance somewhere closer to the touch. Yet Yue can never love La the way La loves them both, and likewise Tui cannot love her either, so consumed in the world of the ephemeral that she seems to not have time for La.
Without them, without Tui and Yue to strengthen La and give her balance, La could only be death. And so their fractured love is enough for La, and when it is not, La finds a way to make it so.
Title: Can’t Give You Anything But This
Characters: Tui, La, Yue
Rating: PG (for briefly mentioned violence)
Word count: ~1300
Warnings: Spoilers for The Seige of the North, Part II
Summary: The Moon Spirit is always running, and the Spirit of the Ocean, she will always follow.
General Disclaimers apply. Avatar: the Last Airbender and all related people, places, things and possibly ideas belong to Nickelodeon, Michael DiMartino, Bryan Konjetzko a bunch of brilliant folks who are Most Decidedly Not Me. I am making no money off of this and no copyright infringement is intended.
PS: unbetaed because I don’t have an ATLA beta; also, it’s come to my attention that I can’t seem to give anything I write a short, concise name. I think it’s like a disease. Or something. Oh and ALSO! elements of femmeslash, although I don't technically consider it so because they're spirits, but still. If that squicks you, you may not want to read this.
Since before recorded history, La has had to chase after Tui, running with the speed of raging floods, laughing after her when La would be so close she could hear Tui’s genial teasing. La no longer remembers how the game began, only that there had been a time, once, where they were still; it was loud and dangerous and out-of-balance then, and yet, Tui had said that existence was so boring, and so she ran. And when La ran after her, so accustomed to sharing in Tui’s strength, the chi of the world began to coalesce differently. The other spirits urged them onwards, and how could La possibly stop, after she’d had a taste of this new delight? In the thrill of wanting, this anxious yearning that consumed her when Tui was only a hairsbreadth away and yet never close enough?
“Catch me La!” Tui calls, always the same, always a smile in her voice and La does as she’s asked, follows after her.
There comes a time, however, when Tui becomes interested in something besides their little game. There is something in the world just beyond theirs that fills Tui with so much wonder and amazement that she almost forgets the game entirely.
“It is life,” La tells her because La is sometimes under it and all around it; in times of almost-waking she is almost in that world, can feel life pulsing in and around her.
“Life,” Tui repeats, her voice strong and excited. “You have seen it?”
“Only sometimes,” La admits. “It belongs in the other world.”
Tui has never been to the other world, and La finds it so endearing, how Tui’s wonder is sparked when La tells her of her corporeal form. When La is in that other world, she says, she feels unending and powerful, dark and dangerous. And so Tui decides that she wants to know her own corporeal form, and so they meditate, for hours and hours. This time it is La who is guiding the way, who pulls Tui along until, fully awake, they find their way there.
It is different than how La remembers it from her waking dreams, everything is sharper and more detailed, and for one terrifying second, she cannot find Tui, thinks perhaps she left her somewhere in limbo, lost to La forever. But Tui is bright and beautiful somewhere high above her, shining light upon the world entire. It is La who is moving now, back and forth along miles of shorelines and banks, and Tui is so, so still above her, breathtaking in her silent repose.
Yet it is tiring for La to be everywhere at once, and likewise, La knows Tui cannot stay still for very long, and so finally they return to their lives, where Tui runs off and La follows after her. And this would be fine for La; she has no real interest in the other world except to gaze upon the face of Tui, but something has caught Tui in a way La has never been able to. La follows Tui into the other world more and more often, feels her other form becoming harder to resume as the ages pass, until one day Tui asks of La what she would do if Tui gave up her immortality entirely to live in that world forever.
La laughs because Tui cannot be serious; she cannot think to deny everything that she is and pretend at humanity, but Tui only frowns at her, and La realizes then, to her horror, that Tui is serious in this.
“I will follow you wherever you may go,” La finally answers hesitantly; it is, after all, the truth.
“We are halves of a whole,” Tui confirms, and her smile is bright enough to fill up the darkness of the other world.
La does not say that she thinks this might no longer be true. They were once halves, yes, and together they were balance. Now, however, it feels more like Tui has found a life outside of La, and La is forced along, pulled by the bloody heartstrings Tui has forever in her grasp, like some beautiful puppet master.
When they make the change, La is frightened. It is different from before, because now they have earthly life, and La can feel her life-force beat thunderously throughout her tiny, meaty body. She hates it, wants to bash against the coast and suffocate until she sees Tui beside her. She is swimming lazy circles around La, content for now with La’s presence. She is so happy. Their mortal forms cannot speak, nor can they smile or laugh or cry, but La can feel Tui’s happiness, and for now that is enough.
Sometimes, La thinks she can still hear Tui’s voice, softly calling out to her.
”Catch me La,” Tui says but does-not-say, and La does as she’s asked and swims after her. The only difference now is that Tui swims after La too, and so they begin to circle one another, and the game is somehow different from before yet very much the same.
Tui is killed one night, by man and fire and hatred. Tui floats dead upon the surface of their home, and the world goes grey for ten long, agonizing minutes. La is blind with her rage, cannot think of anything beyond the revenge that boils in her blood. Tui gave up everything to be among these beings: men, women, and animals that filled up existence with life, and the only way they repay her is by the taking of her life? La cannot believe it, wishes for one bloodthirsty minute that she had her old form again, for such terror and destruction would she have reigned upon the world were it not for the confines of her mortal form.
And yet, there is a boy, with a chi that is cool and soothing like water itself, of both the old and carnal worlds, and he takes La into his arms and helps her sate her bloodlust. It feels like La’s grief has turned her mad, since never before was she an angry spirit, but now she drowns those who have done her wrong, destroys and murders that which Tui loved so much.
It is not until the moon shines bright in the sky again that La’s sanity comes back to her. She sets the boy (Aang, his spirit whispers to her) down among those who worship her and comes home to Tui swimming ragged, half-circles around their small pond.
Tui is different now; she is tinged with human life, with memories that are not her own, and sometimes she calls herself Yue. Yue always speaks of a boy who stole her heart, a mortal, human boy who lives his life without her and sometimes asks for her guidance. She will be happy to help him, Yue always says, as it is the least she can do for the man she loves more than life itself.
Tui and Yue are different and the same. They share life and purpose; Yue shines bright in the sky the way La has always loved, and Tui circles her in an eternal dance somewhere closer to the touch. Yet Yue can never love La the way La loves them both, and likewise Tui cannot love her either, so consumed in the world of the ephemeral that she seems to not have time for La.
Without them, without Tui and Yue to strengthen La and give her balance, La could only be death. And so their fractured love is enough for La, and when it is not, La finds a way to make it so.