[Aug 2] [Avatar: The Last Airbender] "Get Thee To A Nunnery"

[boosette.livejournal.com]

Title:  Get Thee To A Nunnery (Or, A Play* On Aforementioned Line)
Fandom:  Avatar:  The Last Airbender
Day/Theme:  August 3/ "Like Hamlet"
Word Count:  489
Rating: PG? I guess? PG-13?

Notes:  The girl is Zuko's sister, the one in the icon. She appears for three seconds in the Agni Kai flashback in episode twelve, The Storm.  Her name and identity were confirmed at San Diego Comic Con this year.  I enjoy pairing her with Zhao.  This fic catalogues their first meeting.  Setting is about five years pre-series.

*Pun not intended.  Also, see if you can spot the play on said line.

π

Zhao had a tendency to happen upon things, as was the case with the figure in the courtyard before him, running through a drill of the Royal Guard. He stood outside the low wall, watching it. If he was transfixed by anything, it was the hapless manner with which the pattern was being executed.

When the figure finished, he clapped four times, a bare thread above mockery.

The figure turned and mopped its brow. “Excuse me,” it said.

Female. Zhao refrained from laughing. The girl walked closer to him, running a hand through her hair.

“I give my condolences to your form; it is pitiable,” he said. With the glance to the cut of her training clothes, he added, “And to the men placed under your command. I doubt that their careers will be long.”

“I remember neither my training master's death nor your being instated in his place. Besides, you're Navy. What do you know about Guard combat standards?”

“Little enough,” Zhao said. As the girl smirked, triumphant, he told her, “But I do recognize skill when I see it, and I do not recognize it in you.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back slightly. “You obviously have no sense of station, otherwise I would challenge you on your remarks.”

“And do what?” Zhao asked sharply, “Singe the ends of my hair? You're all pretty sparkles and flashy moves with no power or substance at your center. I wouldn't consider taking on an opponent as close to unarmed as you are.”

The girl dropped her arms to her sides and strode to the wall, pulling herself to full height and leaning close to Zhao. She stood a bit more than a head below him. “I am Zula, daughter to the Fire Lord and Corporal in his Guard. You have no right to speak to me as you are.”

“And I am Zhao, son of the clan Liu and Ensign in your father's Navy. I assure you, Princess, I did not rise to my rank by ignoring my superiors. You, on the other hand, appear to have coasted by on your social station alone. I suppose you could still turn to the temple, though I doubt they could force humility onto you.”

Zula stepped over the wall, and a pace away from Zhao. She glared. “Perhaps I will challenge you.”

“And humiliate yourself and your family. That sounds like a very nice plan of action.” He sat down on the wall and smiled. After a moment, he asked, “May I sit, Your Highness?”

“You may not,” she replied. Zhao continued sitting, and Zula continued glaring. After a long moment, she muttered, “My form is not 'pitiable',” and turned to walk off.

“Oh yes,” Zhao said. “It is.”

“Don't push me, Ensign. Perhaps another day, but just now I feel that another word from your mouth could make me do something I may regret one day.”