"There's broken glass in your tea?" "Well, not a -lot-."
Okay it feels like something approaching forever since I posted anything but LOOK HERE IS A THING! I am ridiculously excited about this project why oh why did I start on an epic-fic auuugh so yes I hope you have as much fun reading it as I am having plotting/writing it!
Title: Lord of Fire, Lord of Night (1/?)
Summary: A land torn by rebellion. A fearless general and his ambitious wife. A prophecy that will change everything. Sound familiar? Well... not quite.
Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender / Shakespeare (well sort of)
Rating/Warnings: I mean, it's based on Macbeth. Murder and madness are kind of par for the course.
Disclaimer: Completely unaffiliated with Avatar or anybody involved. Shakespeare's totally public domain though so HA.
One - Rebellion, Redemption
Another battle sweeps over the eastern islands of the Fire Nation. Their conquest is still recent, the new empire just starting to make peace, and already the first rebellion is fighting back.
On the battlefield, a soldier lowers his spear and points at the sky. Next to him, his fellows look up too, and suddenly men on both sides are staring upward, their weapons momentarily forgotten.
Overhead, black and red and golden against the blue sky, three dragons wheel in formation toward the battlefield. Their wings almost touch the soldiers’ helmets as they thunder past. Heat crackles in their wake.
The battle surges west toward the main island.
---
Firelord Yan Zi hasn’t bothered with the sheet of flame that should surround his dais. He can’t manage to stay behind it. A few days ago, this was a formal war meeting- now it’s barely-organized chaos.
“High General, the rebels have scattered Captain Qindao’s main force!”
“Send a hawk to Admiral Goro. He should be near enough to defend that island by sea.” The scout bows hastily and runs out, and High General Bai motions to the man waiting on his other side. “What’s your news?”
Meanwhile, the Firelord interrupts a newly-arrived runner before she can bow at all. “What of the Fire Sages?” he says.
The runner bows her head anyway. “It isn’t good, Firelord. Half of them have sided with the rebellion.”
“The Great Sage?”
“He’s made no move yet.”
It’s undignified to sigh with relief, but Yan Zi does. “Ask him to come to me. We may still be able to convince him.”
He turns in time to meet the High General coming toward him. “Please tell me you have good news, Bai.”
“I don’t,” Bai says quietly. He’s the only one in the chamber whose calm exterior hasn’t cracked. “A small group of fighters has passed the fleet’s defenses at the harbor. They’re moving toward the palace.”
The Firelord closes his eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Chen Yu?”
Next to him, Colonel Chen Yu is already moving. “Been waiting all day, Firelord. We’ll handle it.” Two soldiers- members of the Firelord’s personal guard- break from their positions and follow her.
Another man enters at a run, breathless and burned, nearly colliding with Chen Yu and her men. “Firelord!” he cries.
Chen Yu stops him. Her men immediately take up firebending stances. For a second, the air in the room tenses. She looks back at the Firelord, waiting for an order.
The other man standing with Yan Zi, with one arm in a sling, speaks up for what seems like the first time that day. “It’s all right, Father,” he says. “I know this man. He’s from my regiment.”
“You heard Prince Aizon,” says the Firelord. “Go.” Chen Yu releases the man and exits, her soldiers following.
The man tries to bow and staggers instead, clutching his side. Prince Aizon rushes to support him with his good arm. It’s another few moments before he can regain enough breath to speak.
“Firelord,” he says, “there’s an army- coming from Crescent Island. It’s- it’s led by-”
“By who?” says Aizon, still trying to bear him up.
“General Masa,” the man manages. “He’s back.”
A murmur runs through the room. The banished general, back with an army. Amid the sudden noise, the Firelord puts a hand on the high general’s shoulder. “Bai, can we stop him?”
For a moment, even Bai’s calm looks like it might waver. “Not without losing the outer islands,” he says. “We’re stretched thin as it is.”
Yan Zi gives the slightest of nods and stands up even straighter. The murmur in the room ceases as quickly as it started, everyone with two free hands making the gesture of respect.
“My friends,” says the Firelord, “today is a dark day for our nation-”
“Begging your pardon, Firelord- I hadn’t finished,” the wounded soldier interrupts. Around the room, people turn to look at him, and they realize that his grimace of pain is trying to be a grin. “He’s fighting on our side.”
---
And, gradually, the battle subsides. The rebellion is caught between the oncoming army and the fleet- by sunset the next day, it’s over.
In the last of the daylight, a man stands looking out across the water. His armor is nondescript and battered, the sword he carries old but deadly sharp. He looks weary and- on this secluded beach somehow untouched by the battle- out of place.
Somewhere behind him, a voice speaks. “I thought I’d find you here.”
“And I thought you’d be coming by sea,” says the man. He turns around. The new arrival wears the armor and insignia of an admiral, but he looks just as worn. The man gives him a slight bow.
“Admiral Goro. I think you outrank me now.”
“So, General Masa, you decided to end your own banishment.”
“You know you would have done the same.”
For several moments, they hold each other’s eyes, each inspecting the other carefully. At last Masa holds out a hand.
Goro strides down the beach and clasps the other man’s forearm, then pulls him into a hug. “I’ve missed you, my friend,” he says.
Masa claps him on the back. “You just missed having someone to drive the enemy toward you.”
“I can’t say that isn’t true,” Goro laughs. “You saved us.”
“You helped.”
“Spirits help us, you’ve turned modest.”
For the first time, Masa looks away. “I’ve changed a lot,” he says quietly.
“I’m sorry,” Goro says, “I didn’t mean-” He moves to put a hand on his friend’s shoulder, but in the next second his movement turns into a firebending form. Next to him, Masa takes a different stance. Something is moving in the growing darkness.
A huge form, sinuous and black, coalesces out of the shadows. One second it’s just a coil of darkness, and the next, it’s a dragon. Both men immediately drop their fighting stances and bow.
“Hail,” the dragon says. Its voice isn’t in their ears, but in their minds. “Hail, Masa the banished.”
“Hail,” says a second mind-voice. It’s another dragon, this one a deep red, and it appears as suddenly as a flame lighting. “Hail, Masa the reconciled.”
The third dragon seems to grow from the last shreds of the sunset, shining bright gold against the purple sky. “All hail,” it says, “all hail Masa the lord of fire.”
The dragons have appeared in such a way that they surround the two men, almost close enough to be touched. Masa stands stock-still, still staring at the first dragon. Goro turns, trying to face them all. “Great dragons, do you mock my friend?”
“We speak only what we see,” says the gold dragon’s voice.
“Then prove it,” Goro says. “Tell us what else you see.”
“What are you doing?” says Masa, quietly enough that he hopes only his friend can hear. “If you disrespect them-”
But the red dragon’s head has turned toward Goro, and its mind-voice echoes around them. “We see you, Goro, no less in greatness.”
“We see you,” says the black dragon, “yet no more than you are.”
“We see you, the father of still greater,” the gold dragon says. “We see both your lines part in war and meet in balance.”
“Both our lines? What does that mean?” Goro starts forward, and suddenly he’s walking through thin air. The dragons are gone. Where they were, there is only a ring of embers cooling in the sand.
They’re both silent, for quite some time. It’s fully dark before either of them speaks. “That was strange,” Goro says.
“That’s an understatement,” Masa replies.
There are more noises from inland, but this time they’re human. “Admiral Goro,” a voice calls, “did you find him?”
Goro steps carefully out of the ring. “I found him,” he calls. “This way.”
In another few moments, a man in the armor of a navy captain comes down the beach, followed by Chen Yu and one of her soldiers. Goro walks up the beach to meet them. They stand in a ring of their own, holding a quiet conference.
Slowly, as if in a dream, Masa bends down and picks up one of the embers. It still glows, but it’s cool in his hand, like a stone. He turns it over between his fingers, lost in thought.
After several moments, he realizes that Goro is speaking to him. He closes his hand over the ember and stands up. “What?” he says. “I’m sorry, I was… thinking about something.”
“I said,” Goro repeats, nodding to Chen Yu, “we have an escort.” His expression, in the light from the moon, is serious, and maybe a little apologetic. “Apparently the Firelord wants to see you.”
Masa sighs. “Of course.” He steps over the embers, looking tired again. “We’d better not keep him waiting.”
---
It’s the middle of the night, and nearly everyone in the Firelord’s court is still awake. There are still messages to send, terms of surrender to negotiate, headcounts to take, rebuilding to begin. No one wants to wait until morning.
There’s a steady stream of arrivals- messengers from the former rebels or the army detachments. Most of them look exhausted, some relieved, some proud. One of them, a young man with dark circles under his eyes, Prince Aizon greets with a one-armed embrace.
“Yuji! You didn’t get my regiment killed, did you?”
“Not for lack of trying,” the other man jokes. “I return them to your command in one piece.” A grin spreads over his face- the same as Aizon’s, but a few years younger- and he punches his brother lightly on the good shoulder. “And we can return you to Bian in one piece, yeah?”
Aizon looks at the floor, muttering something under his breath, but he’s grinning too.
In the doorway, there’s another group arriving. Aizon pulls Yuji out of the way. Then people all over the room pull back, as they see who the new arrival is.
By the time Masa reaches the dais, there’s a significant space around him and his escort. The others bow respectfully. He kneels.
“Well,” says the Firelord. He’s seated properly this time, a dark figure behind the flames. “General Masa. After one attempt at my throne, you return- with an army, no less- during a time of rebellion. You must know what it looks like.”
Before Masa can speak, Goro steps forward into the open space. “I’ll give my word for him, Firelord. If he hadn’t-”
“Please don’t, Admiral,” Masa says quietly. “One of us is banished already. Don’t give your word for a traitor.”
Goro gives him a hard look, but he backs away again. Masa looks back toward the dais, bowing his head.
“I know what my return looks like, Firelord, and I’m sorry,” he says. “I couldn’t watch my nation be torn apart, even if I’m no longer a part of it. And I know that doesn’t excuse my behavior. But you have my word, if you’ll just let me leave quietly, I will never set foot on Fire Nation soil again.”
For a long moment, the entire chamber watches in silence. It’s Yan Zi who finally breaks it. “Stand up,” he says.
Masa’s head comes up, confusion on his face. “Firelord?”
“Stand up, General Masa,” he repeats. He descends from the dais, the flames parting on either side, and offers the other man his hand. “You have restored your honor. Welcome back.”
Masa takes the Firelord’s hand and stands up. Around them, the chamber bursts into applause.
---
My dearest Zulei, the letter reads, the venture was more successful than I expected. In the wake of this rebellion, your uncle plans to take a progress around the islands- and when he reaches Crescent Island, you and I will join him.
In the message tower, Princess Zulei pauses to smile slightly. From the eyrie window she can see several of the other islands, with the mountains of the main island high and hazy in the distance. Then her eyes flick back to the paper.
There is more I must tell you. After the battle, Goro and I were met by dragons- but I must save something to tell you in person. Tomorrow I set off in advance of the progress. I’ll return to you soon.
Zulei folds the paper and looks out of the window again. Her smile is calculating.
(Chapter Two)
Title: Lord of Fire, Lord of Night (1/?)
Summary: A land torn by rebellion. A fearless general and his ambitious wife. A prophecy that will change everything. Sound familiar? Well... not quite.
Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender / Shakespeare (well sort of)
Rating/Warnings: I mean, it's based on Macbeth. Murder and madness are kind of par for the course.
Disclaimer: Completely unaffiliated with Avatar or anybody involved. Shakespeare's totally public domain though so HA.
One - Rebellion, Redemption
Another battle sweeps over the eastern islands of the Fire Nation. Their conquest is still recent, the new empire just starting to make peace, and already the first rebellion is fighting back.
On the battlefield, a soldier lowers his spear and points at the sky. Next to him, his fellows look up too, and suddenly men on both sides are staring upward, their weapons momentarily forgotten.
Overhead, black and red and golden against the blue sky, three dragons wheel in formation toward the battlefield. Their wings almost touch the soldiers’ helmets as they thunder past. Heat crackles in their wake.
The battle surges west toward the main island.
---
Firelord Yan Zi hasn’t bothered with the sheet of flame that should surround his dais. He can’t manage to stay behind it. A few days ago, this was a formal war meeting- now it’s barely-organized chaos.
“High General, the rebels have scattered Captain Qindao’s main force!”
“Send a hawk to Admiral Goro. He should be near enough to defend that island by sea.” The scout bows hastily and runs out, and High General Bai motions to the man waiting on his other side. “What’s your news?”
Meanwhile, the Firelord interrupts a newly-arrived runner before she can bow at all. “What of the Fire Sages?” he says.
The runner bows her head anyway. “It isn’t good, Firelord. Half of them have sided with the rebellion.”
“The Great Sage?”
“He’s made no move yet.”
It’s undignified to sigh with relief, but Yan Zi does. “Ask him to come to me. We may still be able to convince him.”
He turns in time to meet the High General coming toward him. “Please tell me you have good news, Bai.”
“I don’t,” Bai says quietly. He’s the only one in the chamber whose calm exterior hasn’t cracked. “A small group of fighters has passed the fleet’s defenses at the harbor. They’re moving toward the palace.”
The Firelord closes his eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Chen Yu?”
Next to him, Colonel Chen Yu is already moving. “Been waiting all day, Firelord. We’ll handle it.” Two soldiers- members of the Firelord’s personal guard- break from their positions and follow her.
Another man enters at a run, breathless and burned, nearly colliding with Chen Yu and her men. “Firelord!” he cries.
Chen Yu stops him. Her men immediately take up firebending stances. For a second, the air in the room tenses. She looks back at the Firelord, waiting for an order.
The other man standing with Yan Zi, with one arm in a sling, speaks up for what seems like the first time that day. “It’s all right, Father,” he says. “I know this man. He’s from my regiment.”
“You heard Prince Aizon,” says the Firelord. “Go.” Chen Yu releases the man and exits, her soldiers following.
The man tries to bow and staggers instead, clutching his side. Prince Aizon rushes to support him with his good arm. It’s another few moments before he can regain enough breath to speak.
“Firelord,” he says, “there’s an army- coming from Crescent Island. It’s- it’s led by-”
“By who?” says Aizon, still trying to bear him up.
“General Masa,” the man manages. “He’s back.”
A murmur runs through the room. The banished general, back with an army. Amid the sudden noise, the Firelord puts a hand on the high general’s shoulder. “Bai, can we stop him?”
For a moment, even Bai’s calm looks like it might waver. “Not without losing the outer islands,” he says. “We’re stretched thin as it is.”
Yan Zi gives the slightest of nods and stands up even straighter. The murmur in the room ceases as quickly as it started, everyone with two free hands making the gesture of respect.
“My friends,” says the Firelord, “today is a dark day for our nation-”
“Begging your pardon, Firelord- I hadn’t finished,” the wounded soldier interrupts. Around the room, people turn to look at him, and they realize that his grimace of pain is trying to be a grin. “He’s fighting on our side.”
---
And, gradually, the battle subsides. The rebellion is caught between the oncoming army and the fleet- by sunset the next day, it’s over.
In the last of the daylight, a man stands looking out across the water. His armor is nondescript and battered, the sword he carries old but deadly sharp. He looks weary and- on this secluded beach somehow untouched by the battle- out of place.
Somewhere behind him, a voice speaks. “I thought I’d find you here.”
“And I thought you’d be coming by sea,” says the man. He turns around. The new arrival wears the armor and insignia of an admiral, but he looks just as worn. The man gives him a slight bow.
“Admiral Goro. I think you outrank me now.”
“So, General Masa, you decided to end your own banishment.”
“You know you would have done the same.”
For several moments, they hold each other’s eyes, each inspecting the other carefully. At last Masa holds out a hand.
Goro strides down the beach and clasps the other man’s forearm, then pulls him into a hug. “I’ve missed you, my friend,” he says.
Masa claps him on the back. “You just missed having someone to drive the enemy toward you.”
“I can’t say that isn’t true,” Goro laughs. “You saved us.”
“You helped.”
“Spirits help us, you’ve turned modest.”
For the first time, Masa looks away. “I’ve changed a lot,” he says quietly.
“I’m sorry,” Goro says, “I didn’t mean-” He moves to put a hand on his friend’s shoulder, but in the next second his movement turns into a firebending form. Next to him, Masa takes a different stance. Something is moving in the growing darkness.
A huge form, sinuous and black, coalesces out of the shadows. One second it’s just a coil of darkness, and the next, it’s a dragon. Both men immediately drop their fighting stances and bow.
“Hail,” the dragon says. Its voice isn’t in their ears, but in their minds. “Hail, Masa the banished.”
“Hail,” says a second mind-voice. It’s another dragon, this one a deep red, and it appears as suddenly as a flame lighting. “Hail, Masa the reconciled.”
The third dragon seems to grow from the last shreds of the sunset, shining bright gold against the purple sky. “All hail,” it says, “all hail Masa the lord of fire.”
The dragons have appeared in such a way that they surround the two men, almost close enough to be touched. Masa stands stock-still, still staring at the first dragon. Goro turns, trying to face them all. “Great dragons, do you mock my friend?”
“We speak only what we see,” says the gold dragon’s voice.
“Then prove it,” Goro says. “Tell us what else you see.”
“What are you doing?” says Masa, quietly enough that he hopes only his friend can hear. “If you disrespect them-”
But the red dragon’s head has turned toward Goro, and its mind-voice echoes around them. “We see you, Goro, no less in greatness.”
“We see you,” says the black dragon, “yet no more than you are.”
“We see you, the father of still greater,” the gold dragon says. “We see both your lines part in war and meet in balance.”
“Both our lines? What does that mean?” Goro starts forward, and suddenly he’s walking through thin air. The dragons are gone. Where they were, there is only a ring of embers cooling in the sand.
They’re both silent, for quite some time. It’s fully dark before either of them speaks. “That was strange,” Goro says.
“That’s an understatement,” Masa replies.
There are more noises from inland, but this time they’re human. “Admiral Goro,” a voice calls, “did you find him?”
Goro steps carefully out of the ring. “I found him,” he calls. “This way.”
In another few moments, a man in the armor of a navy captain comes down the beach, followed by Chen Yu and one of her soldiers. Goro walks up the beach to meet them. They stand in a ring of their own, holding a quiet conference.
Slowly, as if in a dream, Masa bends down and picks up one of the embers. It still glows, but it’s cool in his hand, like a stone. He turns it over between his fingers, lost in thought.
After several moments, he realizes that Goro is speaking to him. He closes his hand over the ember and stands up. “What?” he says. “I’m sorry, I was… thinking about something.”
“I said,” Goro repeats, nodding to Chen Yu, “we have an escort.” His expression, in the light from the moon, is serious, and maybe a little apologetic. “Apparently the Firelord wants to see you.”
Masa sighs. “Of course.” He steps over the embers, looking tired again. “We’d better not keep him waiting.”
---
It’s the middle of the night, and nearly everyone in the Firelord’s court is still awake. There are still messages to send, terms of surrender to negotiate, headcounts to take, rebuilding to begin. No one wants to wait until morning.
There’s a steady stream of arrivals- messengers from the former rebels or the army detachments. Most of them look exhausted, some relieved, some proud. One of them, a young man with dark circles under his eyes, Prince Aizon greets with a one-armed embrace.
“Yuji! You didn’t get my regiment killed, did you?”
“Not for lack of trying,” the other man jokes. “I return them to your command in one piece.” A grin spreads over his face- the same as Aizon’s, but a few years younger- and he punches his brother lightly on the good shoulder. “And we can return you to Bian in one piece, yeah?”
Aizon looks at the floor, muttering something under his breath, but he’s grinning too.
In the doorway, there’s another group arriving. Aizon pulls Yuji out of the way. Then people all over the room pull back, as they see who the new arrival is.
By the time Masa reaches the dais, there’s a significant space around him and his escort. The others bow respectfully. He kneels.
“Well,” says the Firelord. He’s seated properly this time, a dark figure behind the flames. “General Masa. After one attempt at my throne, you return- with an army, no less- during a time of rebellion. You must know what it looks like.”
Before Masa can speak, Goro steps forward into the open space. “I’ll give my word for him, Firelord. If he hadn’t-”
“Please don’t, Admiral,” Masa says quietly. “One of us is banished already. Don’t give your word for a traitor.”
Goro gives him a hard look, but he backs away again. Masa looks back toward the dais, bowing his head.
“I know what my return looks like, Firelord, and I’m sorry,” he says. “I couldn’t watch my nation be torn apart, even if I’m no longer a part of it. And I know that doesn’t excuse my behavior. But you have my word, if you’ll just let me leave quietly, I will never set foot on Fire Nation soil again.”
For a long moment, the entire chamber watches in silence. It’s Yan Zi who finally breaks it. “Stand up,” he says.
Masa’s head comes up, confusion on his face. “Firelord?”
“Stand up, General Masa,” he repeats. He descends from the dais, the flames parting on either side, and offers the other man his hand. “You have restored your honor. Welcome back.”
Masa takes the Firelord’s hand and stands up. Around them, the chamber bursts into applause.
---
My dearest Zulei, the letter reads, the venture was more successful than I expected. In the wake of this rebellion, your uncle plans to take a progress around the islands- and when he reaches Crescent Island, you and I will join him.
In the message tower, Princess Zulei pauses to smile slightly. From the eyrie window she can see several of the other islands, with the mountains of the main island high and hazy in the distance. Then her eyes flick back to the paper.
There is more I must tell you. After the battle, Goro and I were met by dragons- but I must save something to tell you in person. Tomorrow I set off in advance of the progress. I’ll return to you soon.
Zulei folds the paper and looks out of the window again. Her smile is calculating.
(Chapter Two)