Fic: Burns Brighter (Chapter Five)
Title: Burns Brighter (Chapter Five)
Authors: gameboycolor (drblaine) and ourlivesareweird.
Spoilers: All of Avatar: The Last Airbender, The Legend of Korra, and Glee to be safe.
Warnings: Supernatural elements within the realm of the Avatar universe, descriptions of injuries, sports-related violence.
Rating: R overall
Length: ~3500 / ~19700
Summary: Kurt and Blaine navigate the perils of politics and pro-bending during the early years of Republic City. Picks up 50 years after the finale of Avatar: the Last Airbender.
A/N: For those of you not familiar with the series we now have a primer. Thank you for your comments and support. :)
Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three Chapter Four (Part A) | Chapter Four (Part B) | Chapter Five
AO3 | Reblog on Tumblr
Dragonhawk down? Given the recent retirement of Councilman Qin, it is rumored that Dragonhawks will soon be without their star Firebender, Blaine Anderson. Anderson is currently recovering from a probending-related head injury. Chief Katara, his healer, couldn’t be reached for comment. The Hawk’s PR Agent, Emma Pillsbury, states that Blaine is currently resting comfortably at home.
-
“Chief Katara is here to see you,” Wes announces from the doorway.
Ever since the accident, Wes seems to have reverted to the initial stiffness Blaine encountered when he first got to Republic City. Blaine can’t tell if it’s because of what happened after the last match or due to the upcoming interim elections. Either way, he misses the Wes he was able to talk to, friend to friend.
And if the impending championship matches weren’t enough to worry about, Blaine can’t help but wonder what else might have changed in his absence. How is training going for Puck and Kurt? Will Blaine be able to catch up?
Worse yet, will their attitudes towards him have changed as well?
“Well?” Blaine says, slightly terse and annoyed by the formalities. “Show her in. I’m sure she’s here to tell me that today’s the day I can finally get out of this bed.”
Wes bows in parting, and moments later, Katara steps into Blaine’s room.
“He’s... something, isn’t he?” she says in a quiet, conspiratorial tone. Something about it sets Blaine at ease; Kurt’s always spoken very kindly of Katara in the past, but Blaine was never sure if he was merely speaking as her student.
The fact that Katara decided to take Blaine under her care has never slipped Blaine’s notice. As both the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe and one of the world’s most gifted healers, Katara keeps busy, and her attentions are in high enough demand that she doesn’t just take anyone on as a patient. It’s a little nerve-wracking, realizing that Blaine’s injury has caused enough fuss to garner her attention.
She gives the fur on top of Thomas’ head a small ruffle before heading to the sink in Blaine’s room to wash up. “How have you been feeling, Blaine?”
“Fine. Perfect, actually. It’s like nothing happened.”
With a knowing raise of her brow, Katara meets Blaine’s gaze. “And how are you really feeling?”
“Antsy,” Blaine admits, breaking into a reluctant grin. “Bored as hell.”
Katara smiles. “Perfect.”
The bandages came off the previous day, but Blaine’s external injuries aren’t the primary concern at this point. The human brain is something that even the best healers, like Katara, can’t always heal completely. It’s something that needs time to heal on its own. In the worst cases, time can’t even heal it.
Blaine has been told how lucky he is for most of his life. This is the first time he’s believed it.
Shuffling to his side with a small basin of water, Blaine watches closely as Katara dips her hands inside. They look remarkably young for a woman of her age, immediately covered in a glow as she lifts them out and gestures for Blaine to lean forward. Obediently, Blaine obeys, closing his eyes as he feels the cool touch spread over the site of his wound. The healing sessions have been growing increasingly deep in feel every time; at first, it was all about minimizing the burn of broken bone and pull of split skin, but now Blaine feels a deeper tension easing away.
He sighs, shoulders sagging.
“I tried to see if my schedule would allow me another week here, but I’m needed back at the South Pole.” Catching sight of Blaine’s shoulders tensing, Katara lays a comforting hand on his shoulder. “But not before clearing you, of course. You’re allowed to return to practice, but you need to take it easy. At the very least, you need a few more sessions, so I will be leaving you in Kurt’s more than capable hands.”
While Kurt may not be finished yet with his healer training, as the only former student of Katara’s who resides in the city, the choice makes sense. Still, there’s something about the delegation that worms oddly in Blaine’s chest. None of his memories from the attack are very clear, but sometimes he remembers the feel of things; he remembers Kurt’s voice, pitched high and panicked. He remembers seeing Kurt’s eyes wide and rimmed with red the first time they saw one another after Blaine regained consciousness. Even if Kurt has the skill necessary to watch over Blaine, he hasn’t been acting much like the calm, confident young man Blaine first met.
“Kurt? Are you sure? It’s not that he isn’t good. I know he’s good, but he’s been acting so strangely since the... accident.” He knows it was hardly an accident, but ‘attack’ feels too harsh.
“Well, that’s just his way.” Katara explains as she begins to clean up her work area.
“What do you mean?”
“He was like this with his father, he was like this the first time Tenzin took a tumble off an air scooter. It’s not at all surprising. He gets very upset when the people he cares about are hurt. But...” Katara gives him a small, secretive smile. “You didn’t hear that from me.”
For a second, Blaine frowns, caught on his strange inclusion in a group of people he knows Kurt feels closer to than himself. It isn’t hard to imagine Kurt caring for people in general; he’s always been vocal about wanting to follow in Katara’s footsteps where healing’s concerned. But caring more about Blaine’s welfare - something doesn’t line up. Maybe Kurt’s simply concerned about the match, keen on collecting the winnings from the championship pot.
If Blaine doesn’t get back to practice soon, he will be letting the team down, Kurt included.
He bites his lower lip. Maybe he can reassure Kurt later; if he’s forced onto the Council, he’ll have more than enough to help subsidize Kurt’s education.
Blaine can’t think of a much better use for the money, anyway.
“Oh,” he nods, still slightly confused. “Alright, I won’t say anything.”
Glancing up, Blaine’s cheeks flush over when he catches Katara gazing in his direction, all of her supplies already put away as she lowers herself into the seat across from the bed. However comforting her smile, Blaine can’t help but feel completely out of his element around her.
If his life’s been a trial, hers was doubly so.
“Now, if you ask me, that’s the face of a young man who has a lot more on his mind than Kurt Hummel’s affections,” Katara notes, hands folded neatly on her lap. “I still have some time before I’m due for the pier. Tell me, Blaine, is there anything you want to talk about?”
Blinking at her tone, Blaine quickly glances down at his hands, thumb pressing down the center of his palm and warming the skin. Firebending has been restricted during his bed rest, but sometimes Blaine can’t help but turn to a touch of it for comfort. “I’m pretty sure you already know why you were called in to look after me.”
Katara nods once, eyes briefly closing.
“Even without the sudden shift of seats on the Council, an injury like this would have brought all the media vulture eagles in,” Blaine says plainly. “I’ve tried to avoid thinking too much about it, but everything’s been forced right in front of my eyes. The Council might be able to meet once with an empty Fire Nation seat, but if it happens again - I mean, people are right to worry. Our nation’s interests need to be represented. But I didn’t think all of this would happen so soon.”
His gaze flickers up when he hears Katara chuckle softly, her smile wider than before. “I’m sorry, Blaine, it’s just... you remind me a great deal of how my husband was shortly after we met,” she says, lips pursed in amusement.
Blaine’s expression falls. “Well, I-I’m honored to hear that, but.” He sighs, expression growing tight. Kind though it is to be compared to someone as accomplished as Avatar Aang, Blaine worries about the implications of her statement. Avatar Aang surely never asked for what came to him, and his friends have never been shy about telling the media of his hesitations during the war, but in the end, he stood tall and accepted his duties. Maybe Katara’s asking him to do the same.
“I guess you must think that I’m being a bit immature,” he says, hanging his head. “I know what my education all these years has been leading up to, and I know all the faith that’s been placed in me, I, I know they need someone to-”
Raising a gentle hand, Katara shakes her head, and Blaine falls silent. “Blaine, I’m not suggesting that you must take the path that other people have marked for you.”
Eyes wide, Blaine bites down on his lower lip. “But isn’t that exactly what Avatar Aang did? Or yourself, Chief Katara, you went back to your people and helped rebuild the Southern Water Tribe from the ground up, and all of you were instrumental in overseeing the founding of the United Republic of Nations. Republic City wouldn’t be what it is now if all of you hadn’t stepped up.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear that the history books have painted us in such a positive light,” Katara laughs, briefly placing a hand on her chest with a small breath. “But while it’s true that all of us have kept very busy over the years, it’s not always in ways people have expected. Chief Bei Fong was offered a chance to rebuild several Earth Kingdom cities from the ground up; she could have been one of the first women since Kyoshi to lead a province on her own. But Toph knew that so much bureaucracy would only frustrate her. The job of rebuilding the South Pole would traditionally have fallen to Sokka, but he elected to stay here, seeing the vast advancements in technology.”
Blaine feels his face flushing further still. In theory, he knows that the books couldn’t have been entirely accurate. It’s a lesson taught, even - that history is written by the victor.
But he’s always assumed there was enough truth in what he’s been taught.
“You see, all of us insisted on taking the paths we were most passionate about. Even Avatar Aang went against the advice of the whole world; instead of putting an end to Fire Lord Ozai’s life, Aang decided to spare him,” she says, pausing for a moment. As Blaine watches on, there’s no denying the look on her face, proud and loving. “So you see, Blaine, you’re actually pretty lucky. You have a voice that the people will listen to, but that doesn’t mean you have to say what they want to hear.”
He runs a thumb briefly over his brow. There’s a deep ache in his head, not quite painful, but noticeable all the same. If he takes Katara’s words to heart, then that means he needs to have a conversation with Wes.
Somehow, he doubts it’ll be an easy one.
“And judging by that look on your face, I’ve overtaxed you for today,” murmurs Katara, rising to her feet and crossing the room once more to press her lips against his forehead, directly above the dull throb. “I’ll talk to your people and make sure you’re allowed back at the gym first thing tomorrow, but for now, you should still rest.”
-
It quickly becomes apparent that being cleared for practice doesn’t mean Blaine will be seeing the inside of the gym any time soon.
Wes takes the news as indication that Blaine is ready to start making some of the decisions that are required by the Council.
There are strategy meetings to attend, people to meet, and election plans to finalize.
Aside from all the planning, Blaine still hasn’t spoken to Wes on a personal level since their screaming match a few nights ago. It feels a little like his life decided to pick up and continue on without him. He wonders how many decisions were made for him while he was unconscious.
He’s sitting for portraits for campaign posters. He smiles when he’s told to and he’s kind to the staffers, but on the inside he’s growing steadily more displeased.
Do they even need him? Everyone knows that Wes has always been the one pulling the strings behind the curtains. Blaine is a face, a name. Wes is a brilliant mind with a knack for both the press and politics.
Even when Blaine is elected, Wes is still going to be the one running the show. Nothing’s going to change, and frankly, Blaine doesn’t want it to. He’s always been thankful for Wes. The man is always two steps ahead of everyone else. The Fire Nation couldn’t ask for a better representative for their country.
Unfortunately, they don’t know to ask for Wes.
-
Councilman Qin stepping down, citing his recent illness. Fire Nation’s Blaine Anderson is rumored to be stepping into the interim election for Council chair any day now. If elected, Anderson will be the youngest Council chair in Republic City’s forty-eight year history.
-
Blaine feels like he’s taking off a costume when he tugs his dress shirt over his head. Increasingly, he’s been running late for practice. When he steps into the gym at last, Puck’s generally one to comment, even if Blaine’s only a few minutes late. Kurt, on the other hand, tends to keep quiet, simply continuing his exercises as Blaine settles in.
Sometimes, it feels like silent camaraderie between the both of them. Kurt has been balancing clinic work and practice for as long as he’s been on the team, so Blaine imagines he can probably relate.
“I’m sorry,” Blaine says as he enters the gym, his helmet hanging loosely at his side. He doesn’t usually wear it in practices, but given his injury, he’s been trying to be careful. “My meeting ran a little late.”
“So is this going to be a thing?” Puck asks. “Because if it is, it’s only fair that you’re honest with us.”
“I’m really hoping it’s not,” he replies, gripping his helmet a little tighter. He feels like he’s hanging onto what’s left of normalcy. “But it might happen more than I’d like it to.”
“He’s here, isn’t he?” Kurt counters, shoulders squared as he waves a hand dismissively. “Come on, let’s stop wasting time.”
-
Dragonhawk Firebender Blaine Anderson was spotted leaving Shannon Beiste’s training facility earlier this morning. Despite rumors of long-term injury benching him for the season, it looks like this Hawk is back in the game. Will Council duties pull him away once again? PR agent Emma Pillsbury declined to comment.
-
Any of Blaine’s initial concerns about being left in Kurt’s care go right out the window after their first healing session. While his voice still carries a slight frantic edge to it, Kurt is able to focus on his work, diligently working with careful fingers even as he talks.
“Mmm, when Master Katara told me to keep an eye on your injury, I didn’t think I’d also be helping out with a crick in your neck,” Kurt muses, sliding onto the bed and nudging for Blaine to turn so that his back faces Kurt. Guiding the water back into the basin, Blaine inhales sharply when Kurt’s cold fingers start to massage at his neck, easing away the strain.
He exhales deeply. “Contrary to what Puck thinks, I’ve been training extra late at night to try and keep up with the both of you. It’s not the same as having us all in practice, but-”
“Don’t listen to Puck,” Kurt says dismissively. Blaine catches a glimpse of a frown when he looks over his shoulder, and Kurt shrugs. “He’s just frustrated. He’ll get over it.”
“I don’t want to let you guys down,” Blaine admits. “I’m not sure how much longer I’m going to be able to juggle everything. Sooner or later, I’m going to have to make a decision.”
“So, the Council or probending. What a glamorous choice,” Kurt teases, shifting on the bed with his legs curled to his side.
Blaine rolls his eyes fondly. “I know, I must sound ridiculous.”
Kurt shakes his head. “No, it’s not that.” Silently, Kurt continues kneading along the line of Blaine’s spine in soft, circular motions, before letting out a stilted chuckle, almost nervous. “You’d still have me, you know. If you picked the Council.”
Blaine remembers Katara’s words from earlier. He thinks back to Kurt’s red-rimmed eyes in the days after he woke up.
“I wasn’t aware I had you.”
Kurt slips his hand into Blaine’s. It’s slightly colder than Blaine’s own, likely from his earlier healing, and Blaine lets a small shiver pass through his body at the contact. A few seconds pass with their fingers laced, but held slack, before Blaine carefully closes his hand around Kurt’s, warmth emanating from his palm.
Blaine turns to face Kurt, their hands still joined.
It’s almost funny how few words they’ve shared in comparison to all the other conversations Blaine’s had as of late, yet somehow, that single sentence and the gentle weight of Kurt’s hand on his own speaks volumes. For what feels like an eternity, they sit, small liberties taken turn by turn. Kurt’s thumb brushing along the side of his palm, or Blaine’s fingertips pressing against the rise and fall of Kurt’s knuckles. Blaine still can’t stop thinking, knowing that he’ll have to stand in front of the Council later that afternoon, and not knowing what he’ll say to Wes, if anything at all.
The difference is, he suddenly feels like he can breathe with the ally he knows he’s found today.
It surprises him to catch Kurt’s gaze on him when Blaine looks up at last. The clock ticking in the background is far too slow to match the thud of his heart. His eyes skirt over the sharp blue of Kurt’s own, like the ocean far out at sea, then over the freckles barely visible over his warm complexion. He never noticed them before. Nor the way Kurt’s breath feels as it fans over his lips, warmer than Blaine expected.
Oh.
Affectionate.
Fingers squeezing tightly around Kurt’s hand, Blaine leans forward, barely catching sight of Kurt’s lashes fanning down. When their lips meet, it’s soft, but sure, sudden warmth splaying across his cheek when Kurt raises his hand to rest over it, fingers tracing the line of Blaine’s jaw. He can’t tell whose breath shudders, but the rush of air alone has him reaching out for Kurt’s chin, tilting it just enough that lips part with an inquisitive gasp.
Suddenly, Kurt surges forward, his mouth closing around Blaine’s upper lip and pulling slowly, until the both of them are forced apart by a sharp knock.
Wes, probably. Blaine hangs his head as the both of them lean back, turning simultaneously towards the door.
“Blaine,” says Wes, voice terse as he turns on his heel.
“Hello to you too,” breathes Blaine in an undertone, eyes cast down on the bed before he hesitantly meets Kurt’s gaze again. “Sorry about that, but I...”
Kurt shakes his head in understanding.
“Good luck today,” Kurt stammers, face flushing as his lips turn up into a smile. “At the meeting.”
-
With the interim election days away, Blaine Anderson is set to meet with the current Councilmembers today. The details of the meeting are confidential. Press conference Councilwoman Keelut to follow immediately.
-
Blaine isn’t allowed to speak in the meeting, seeing as his place isn’t official. It is customary for potential candidates to sit in on a session, to get a feel for what goes on behind closed doors.
He isn’t supposed to speak, but after twenty minutes he is asked what he thinks on the topic of the election.
“Well, I...” He looks around the table at the faces of the experienced Councilmembers. “I hope we can run a good race, and whoever wins, I hope we make certain that the Fire Nation’s seat doesn’t sit empty for too long.”
“Master Anderson,” Councilwoman Keelut, a small woman from the Northern Water Tribe, pipes up. “You’re running unopposed. The election is a formality.”
The words leave Blaine stunned. Unopposed? He knew that his seat on the Council was something of a certainty, but typically there was a quiet opposition. Someone to run a non-threatening race to keep up the illusion of democracy.
Wes hadn’t told him.
Blaine hadn’t even thought to ask about it.
He doesn’t stick around long after the meeting. He feels more like a placeholder than ever. His presence in the chambers is hardly needed.
He isn’t sure of Wes’s reason for withholding this information. He’s thankful for having the walk home to collect his thoughts, because the only thing Blaine wants right now is to give Wes a piece of his mind.
Authors: gameboycolor (drblaine) and ourlivesareweird.
Spoilers: All of Avatar: The Last Airbender, The Legend of Korra, and Glee to be safe.
Warnings: Supernatural elements within the realm of the Avatar universe, descriptions of injuries, sports-related violence.
Rating: R overall
Length: ~3500 / ~19700
Summary: Kurt and Blaine navigate the perils of politics and pro-bending during the early years of Republic City. Picks up 50 years after the finale of Avatar: the Last Airbender.
A/N: For those of you not familiar with the series we now have a primer. Thank you for your comments and support. :)
Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three Chapter Four (Part A) | Chapter Four (Part B) | Chapter Five
AO3 | Reblog on Tumblr
Dragonhawk down? Given the recent retirement of Councilman Qin, it is rumored that Dragonhawks will soon be without their star Firebender, Blaine Anderson. Anderson is currently recovering from a probending-related head injury. Chief Katara, his healer, couldn’t be reached for comment. The Hawk’s PR Agent, Emma Pillsbury, states that Blaine is currently resting comfortably at home.
-
“Chief Katara is here to see you,” Wes announces from the doorway.
Ever since the accident, Wes seems to have reverted to the initial stiffness Blaine encountered when he first got to Republic City. Blaine can’t tell if it’s because of what happened after the last match or due to the upcoming interim elections. Either way, he misses the Wes he was able to talk to, friend to friend.
And if the impending championship matches weren’t enough to worry about, Blaine can’t help but wonder what else might have changed in his absence. How is training going for Puck and Kurt? Will Blaine be able to catch up?
Worse yet, will their attitudes towards him have changed as well?
“Well?” Blaine says, slightly terse and annoyed by the formalities. “Show her in. I’m sure she’s here to tell me that today’s the day I can finally get out of this bed.”
Wes bows in parting, and moments later, Katara steps into Blaine’s room.
“He’s... something, isn’t he?” she says in a quiet, conspiratorial tone. Something about it sets Blaine at ease; Kurt’s always spoken very kindly of Katara in the past, but Blaine was never sure if he was merely speaking as her student.
The fact that Katara decided to take Blaine under her care has never slipped Blaine’s notice. As both the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe and one of the world’s most gifted healers, Katara keeps busy, and her attentions are in high enough demand that she doesn’t just take anyone on as a patient. It’s a little nerve-wracking, realizing that Blaine’s injury has caused enough fuss to garner her attention.
She gives the fur on top of Thomas’ head a small ruffle before heading to the sink in Blaine’s room to wash up. “How have you been feeling, Blaine?”
“Fine. Perfect, actually. It’s like nothing happened.”
With a knowing raise of her brow, Katara meets Blaine’s gaze. “And how are you really feeling?”
“Antsy,” Blaine admits, breaking into a reluctant grin. “Bored as hell.”
Katara smiles. “Perfect.”
The bandages came off the previous day, but Blaine’s external injuries aren’t the primary concern at this point. The human brain is something that even the best healers, like Katara, can’t always heal completely. It’s something that needs time to heal on its own. In the worst cases, time can’t even heal it.
Blaine has been told how lucky he is for most of his life. This is the first time he’s believed it.
Shuffling to his side with a small basin of water, Blaine watches closely as Katara dips her hands inside. They look remarkably young for a woman of her age, immediately covered in a glow as she lifts them out and gestures for Blaine to lean forward. Obediently, Blaine obeys, closing his eyes as he feels the cool touch spread over the site of his wound. The healing sessions have been growing increasingly deep in feel every time; at first, it was all about minimizing the burn of broken bone and pull of split skin, but now Blaine feels a deeper tension easing away.
He sighs, shoulders sagging.
“I tried to see if my schedule would allow me another week here, but I’m needed back at the South Pole.” Catching sight of Blaine’s shoulders tensing, Katara lays a comforting hand on his shoulder. “But not before clearing you, of course. You’re allowed to return to practice, but you need to take it easy. At the very least, you need a few more sessions, so I will be leaving you in Kurt’s more than capable hands.”
While Kurt may not be finished yet with his healer training, as the only former student of Katara’s who resides in the city, the choice makes sense. Still, there’s something about the delegation that worms oddly in Blaine’s chest. None of his memories from the attack are very clear, but sometimes he remembers the feel of things; he remembers Kurt’s voice, pitched high and panicked. He remembers seeing Kurt’s eyes wide and rimmed with red the first time they saw one another after Blaine regained consciousness. Even if Kurt has the skill necessary to watch over Blaine, he hasn’t been acting much like the calm, confident young man Blaine first met.
“Kurt? Are you sure? It’s not that he isn’t good. I know he’s good, but he’s been acting so strangely since the... accident.” He knows it was hardly an accident, but ‘attack’ feels too harsh.
“Well, that’s just his way.” Katara explains as she begins to clean up her work area.
“What do you mean?”
“He was like this with his father, he was like this the first time Tenzin took a tumble off an air scooter. It’s not at all surprising. He gets very upset when the people he cares about are hurt. But...” Katara gives him a small, secretive smile. “You didn’t hear that from me.”
For a second, Blaine frowns, caught on his strange inclusion in a group of people he knows Kurt feels closer to than himself. It isn’t hard to imagine Kurt caring for people in general; he’s always been vocal about wanting to follow in Katara’s footsteps where healing’s concerned. But caring more about Blaine’s welfare - something doesn’t line up. Maybe Kurt’s simply concerned about the match, keen on collecting the winnings from the championship pot.
If Blaine doesn’t get back to practice soon, he will be letting the team down, Kurt included.
He bites his lower lip. Maybe he can reassure Kurt later; if he’s forced onto the Council, he’ll have more than enough to help subsidize Kurt’s education.
Blaine can’t think of a much better use for the money, anyway.
“Oh,” he nods, still slightly confused. “Alright, I won’t say anything.”
Glancing up, Blaine’s cheeks flush over when he catches Katara gazing in his direction, all of her supplies already put away as she lowers herself into the seat across from the bed. However comforting her smile, Blaine can’t help but feel completely out of his element around her.
If his life’s been a trial, hers was doubly so.
“Now, if you ask me, that’s the face of a young man who has a lot more on his mind than Kurt Hummel’s affections,” Katara notes, hands folded neatly on her lap. “I still have some time before I’m due for the pier. Tell me, Blaine, is there anything you want to talk about?”
Blinking at her tone, Blaine quickly glances down at his hands, thumb pressing down the center of his palm and warming the skin. Firebending has been restricted during his bed rest, but sometimes Blaine can’t help but turn to a touch of it for comfort. “I’m pretty sure you already know why you were called in to look after me.”
Katara nods once, eyes briefly closing.
“Even without the sudden shift of seats on the Council, an injury like this would have brought all the media vulture eagles in,” Blaine says plainly. “I’ve tried to avoid thinking too much about it, but everything’s been forced right in front of my eyes. The Council might be able to meet once with an empty Fire Nation seat, but if it happens again - I mean, people are right to worry. Our nation’s interests need to be represented. But I didn’t think all of this would happen so soon.”
His gaze flickers up when he hears Katara chuckle softly, her smile wider than before. “I’m sorry, Blaine, it’s just... you remind me a great deal of how my husband was shortly after we met,” she says, lips pursed in amusement.
Blaine’s expression falls. “Well, I-I’m honored to hear that, but.” He sighs, expression growing tight. Kind though it is to be compared to someone as accomplished as Avatar Aang, Blaine worries about the implications of her statement. Avatar Aang surely never asked for what came to him, and his friends have never been shy about telling the media of his hesitations during the war, but in the end, he stood tall and accepted his duties. Maybe Katara’s asking him to do the same.
“I guess you must think that I’m being a bit immature,” he says, hanging his head. “I know what my education all these years has been leading up to, and I know all the faith that’s been placed in me, I, I know they need someone to-”
Raising a gentle hand, Katara shakes her head, and Blaine falls silent. “Blaine, I’m not suggesting that you must take the path that other people have marked for you.”
Eyes wide, Blaine bites down on his lower lip. “But isn’t that exactly what Avatar Aang did? Or yourself, Chief Katara, you went back to your people and helped rebuild the Southern Water Tribe from the ground up, and all of you were instrumental in overseeing the founding of the United Republic of Nations. Republic City wouldn’t be what it is now if all of you hadn’t stepped up.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear that the history books have painted us in such a positive light,” Katara laughs, briefly placing a hand on her chest with a small breath. “But while it’s true that all of us have kept very busy over the years, it’s not always in ways people have expected. Chief Bei Fong was offered a chance to rebuild several Earth Kingdom cities from the ground up; she could have been one of the first women since Kyoshi to lead a province on her own. But Toph knew that so much bureaucracy would only frustrate her. The job of rebuilding the South Pole would traditionally have fallen to Sokka, but he elected to stay here, seeing the vast advancements in technology.”
Blaine feels his face flushing further still. In theory, he knows that the books couldn’t have been entirely accurate. It’s a lesson taught, even - that history is written by the victor.
But he’s always assumed there was enough truth in what he’s been taught.
“You see, all of us insisted on taking the paths we were most passionate about. Even Avatar Aang went against the advice of the whole world; instead of putting an end to Fire Lord Ozai’s life, Aang decided to spare him,” she says, pausing for a moment. As Blaine watches on, there’s no denying the look on her face, proud and loving. “So you see, Blaine, you’re actually pretty lucky. You have a voice that the people will listen to, but that doesn’t mean you have to say what they want to hear.”
He runs a thumb briefly over his brow. There’s a deep ache in his head, not quite painful, but noticeable all the same. If he takes Katara’s words to heart, then that means he needs to have a conversation with Wes.
Somehow, he doubts it’ll be an easy one.
“And judging by that look on your face, I’ve overtaxed you for today,” murmurs Katara, rising to her feet and crossing the room once more to press her lips against his forehead, directly above the dull throb. “I’ll talk to your people and make sure you’re allowed back at the gym first thing tomorrow, but for now, you should still rest.”
-
It quickly becomes apparent that being cleared for practice doesn’t mean Blaine will be seeing the inside of the gym any time soon.
Wes takes the news as indication that Blaine is ready to start making some of the decisions that are required by the Council.
There are strategy meetings to attend, people to meet, and election plans to finalize.
Aside from all the planning, Blaine still hasn’t spoken to Wes on a personal level since their screaming match a few nights ago. It feels a little like his life decided to pick up and continue on without him. He wonders how many decisions were made for him while he was unconscious.
He’s sitting for portraits for campaign posters. He smiles when he’s told to and he’s kind to the staffers, but on the inside he’s growing steadily more displeased.
Do they even need him? Everyone knows that Wes has always been the one pulling the strings behind the curtains. Blaine is a face, a name. Wes is a brilliant mind with a knack for both the press and politics.
Even when Blaine is elected, Wes is still going to be the one running the show. Nothing’s going to change, and frankly, Blaine doesn’t want it to. He’s always been thankful for Wes. The man is always two steps ahead of everyone else. The Fire Nation couldn’t ask for a better representative for their country.
Unfortunately, they don’t know to ask for Wes.
-
Councilman Qin stepping down, citing his recent illness. Fire Nation’s Blaine Anderson is rumored to be stepping into the interim election for Council chair any day now. If elected, Anderson will be the youngest Council chair in Republic City’s forty-eight year history.
-
Blaine feels like he’s taking off a costume when he tugs his dress shirt over his head. Increasingly, he’s been running late for practice. When he steps into the gym at last, Puck’s generally one to comment, even if Blaine’s only a few minutes late. Kurt, on the other hand, tends to keep quiet, simply continuing his exercises as Blaine settles in.
Sometimes, it feels like silent camaraderie between the both of them. Kurt has been balancing clinic work and practice for as long as he’s been on the team, so Blaine imagines he can probably relate.
“I’m sorry,” Blaine says as he enters the gym, his helmet hanging loosely at his side. He doesn’t usually wear it in practices, but given his injury, he’s been trying to be careful. “My meeting ran a little late.”
“So is this going to be a thing?” Puck asks. “Because if it is, it’s only fair that you’re honest with us.”
“I’m really hoping it’s not,” he replies, gripping his helmet a little tighter. He feels like he’s hanging onto what’s left of normalcy. “But it might happen more than I’d like it to.”
“He’s here, isn’t he?” Kurt counters, shoulders squared as he waves a hand dismissively. “Come on, let’s stop wasting time.”
-
Dragonhawk Firebender Blaine Anderson was spotted leaving Shannon Beiste’s training facility earlier this morning. Despite rumors of long-term injury benching him for the season, it looks like this Hawk is back in the game. Will Council duties pull him away once again? PR agent Emma Pillsbury declined to comment.
-
Any of Blaine’s initial concerns about being left in Kurt’s care go right out the window after their first healing session. While his voice still carries a slight frantic edge to it, Kurt is able to focus on his work, diligently working with careful fingers even as he talks.
“Mmm, when Master Katara told me to keep an eye on your injury, I didn’t think I’d also be helping out with a crick in your neck,” Kurt muses, sliding onto the bed and nudging for Blaine to turn so that his back faces Kurt. Guiding the water back into the basin, Blaine inhales sharply when Kurt’s cold fingers start to massage at his neck, easing away the strain.
He exhales deeply. “Contrary to what Puck thinks, I’ve been training extra late at night to try and keep up with the both of you. It’s not the same as having us all in practice, but-”
“Don’t listen to Puck,” Kurt says dismissively. Blaine catches a glimpse of a frown when he looks over his shoulder, and Kurt shrugs. “He’s just frustrated. He’ll get over it.”
“I don’t want to let you guys down,” Blaine admits. “I’m not sure how much longer I’m going to be able to juggle everything. Sooner or later, I’m going to have to make a decision.”
“So, the Council or probending. What a glamorous choice,” Kurt teases, shifting on the bed with his legs curled to his side.
Blaine rolls his eyes fondly. “I know, I must sound ridiculous.”
Kurt shakes his head. “No, it’s not that.” Silently, Kurt continues kneading along the line of Blaine’s spine in soft, circular motions, before letting out a stilted chuckle, almost nervous. “You’d still have me, you know. If you picked the Council.”
Blaine remembers Katara’s words from earlier. He thinks back to Kurt’s red-rimmed eyes in the days after he woke up.
“I wasn’t aware I had you.”
Kurt slips his hand into Blaine’s. It’s slightly colder than Blaine’s own, likely from his earlier healing, and Blaine lets a small shiver pass through his body at the contact. A few seconds pass with their fingers laced, but held slack, before Blaine carefully closes his hand around Kurt’s, warmth emanating from his palm.
Blaine turns to face Kurt, their hands still joined.
It’s almost funny how few words they’ve shared in comparison to all the other conversations Blaine’s had as of late, yet somehow, that single sentence and the gentle weight of Kurt’s hand on his own speaks volumes. For what feels like an eternity, they sit, small liberties taken turn by turn. Kurt’s thumb brushing along the side of his palm, or Blaine’s fingertips pressing against the rise and fall of Kurt’s knuckles. Blaine still can’t stop thinking, knowing that he’ll have to stand in front of the Council later that afternoon, and not knowing what he’ll say to Wes, if anything at all.
The difference is, he suddenly feels like he can breathe with the ally he knows he’s found today.
It surprises him to catch Kurt’s gaze on him when Blaine looks up at last. The clock ticking in the background is far too slow to match the thud of his heart. His eyes skirt over the sharp blue of Kurt’s own, like the ocean far out at sea, then over the freckles barely visible over his warm complexion. He never noticed them before. Nor the way Kurt’s breath feels as it fans over his lips, warmer than Blaine expected.
Oh.
Affectionate.
Fingers squeezing tightly around Kurt’s hand, Blaine leans forward, barely catching sight of Kurt’s lashes fanning down. When their lips meet, it’s soft, but sure, sudden warmth splaying across his cheek when Kurt raises his hand to rest over it, fingers tracing the line of Blaine’s jaw. He can’t tell whose breath shudders, but the rush of air alone has him reaching out for Kurt’s chin, tilting it just enough that lips part with an inquisitive gasp.
Suddenly, Kurt surges forward, his mouth closing around Blaine’s upper lip and pulling slowly, until the both of them are forced apart by a sharp knock.
Wes, probably. Blaine hangs his head as the both of them lean back, turning simultaneously towards the door.
“Blaine,” says Wes, voice terse as he turns on his heel.
“Hello to you too,” breathes Blaine in an undertone, eyes cast down on the bed before he hesitantly meets Kurt’s gaze again. “Sorry about that, but I...”
Kurt shakes his head in understanding.
“Good luck today,” Kurt stammers, face flushing as his lips turn up into a smile. “At the meeting.”
-
With the interim election days away, Blaine Anderson is set to meet with the current Councilmembers today. The details of the meeting are confidential. Press conference Councilwoman Keelut to follow immediately.
-
Blaine isn’t allowed to speak in the meeting, seeing as his place isn’t official. It is customary for potential candidates to sit in on a session, to get a feel for what goes on behind closed doors.
He isn’t supposed to speak, but after twenty minutes he is asked what he thinks on the topic of the election.
“Well, I...” He looks around the table at the faces of the experienced Councilmembers. “I hope we can run a good race, and whoever wins, I hope we make certain that the Fire Nation’s seat doesn’t sit empty for too long.”
“Master Anderson,” Councilwoman Keelut, a small woman from the Northern Water Tribe, pipes up. “You’re running unopposed. The election is a formality.”
The words leave Blaine stunned. Unopposed? He knew that his seat on the Council was something of a certainty, but typically there was a quiet opposition. Someone to run a non-threatening race to keep up the illusion of democracy.
Wes hadn’t told him.
Blaine hadn’t even thought to ask about it.
He doesn’t stick around long after the meeting. He feels more like a placeholder than ever. His presence in the chambers is hardly needed.
He isn’t sure of Wes’s reason for withholding this information. He’s thankful for having the walk home to collect his thoughts, because the only thing Blaine wants right now is to give Wes a piece of his mind.