(no subject)
Title: early sun/endless black
Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Warning: Character death.
Summary: Iroh's battle in Ba Sing Se, down to death that sends him home.
Comments: I love Iroh so much. He needs more fic.
Defiant black, painted red shatter the sun into a thousand threads of gold. Their shadows stretch to the ends of the earth, clawing at his armor, whispering into his weary hands. As he passes, he falls into each one; imagines that for a moment, the entire world has gone and he is no more, engulfed by a gasp of darkness.
The battles rage keep going you have almost won the earth shakes, the flames burn they are weak victory is close the shadows - deep, flooding in the morning sun - dance, like mischievous souls, like mere children in the midst of chase. His men flit past, bodies ablaze; black tears across his eyes for the slightest of breaths, and he winces, as though injured.
He’s spent so long here I can’t do this it’s too much the men keep falling, the earth still moves we’re not strong enough not yet not yet the shadows grow slower, like whispered songs, stifled beauty, and he must lead his men, must, but the darkness tugs at his feet and he watches until his eyes burn with black.
He watches as Lu Ten falls, ouline crumpling under him; leaving nothing but the sun.
It’s over, father.
He writes, his eyes trailing the cloth walls; shadows - souls - of men crawling in the candlelight. Leave me, he thinks, moments before the flame dies; swallow me whole.
I am coming home, father.
Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Warning: Character death.
Summary: Iroh's battle in Ba Sing Se, down to death that sends him home.
Comments: I love Iroh so much. He needs more fic.
Defiant black, painted red shatter the sun into a thousand threads of gold. Their shadows stretch to the ends of the earth, clawing at his armor, whispering into his weary hands. As he passes, he falls into each one; imagines that for a moment, the entire world has gone and he is no more, engulfed by a gasp of darkness.
The battles rage keep going you have almost won the earth shakes, the flames burn they are weak victory is close the shadows - deep, flooding in the morning sun - dance, like mischievous souls, like mere children in the midst of chase. His men flit past, bodies ablaze; black tears across his eyes for the slightest of breaths, and he winces, as though injured.
He’s spent so long here I can’t do this it’s too much the men keep falling, the earth still moves we’re not strong enough not yet not yet the shadows grow slower, like whispered songs, stifled beauty, and he must lead his men, must, but the darkness tugs at his feet and he watches until his eyes burn with black.
He watches as Lu Ten falls, ouline crumpling under him; leaving nothing but the sun.
It’s over, father.
He writes, his eyes trailing the cloth walls; shadows - souls - of men crawling in the candlelight. Leave me, he thinks, moments before the flame dies; swallow me whole.
I am coming home, father.