SunChild: Interlude- You Can't Take The Sky From Me

[weirdlet]

The AU:  Sun Child, in which Princess Zura was pregnant when she was banished from the Fire Nation.  Now she roams the world with a child in tow, seeking the Avatar as the key to redemption- for her, and her daughter...

The Prompt/Summary:  Interlude in Ba Sing Se- you can't take the sky from me...

The Fic-

It’s on the way home between shifts one night that Jet stops and looks up at the building where Li lives.  She’s out in front of her apartment with her daughter, sitting cross-legged on the railed landing.  They’re watching the fireflies that float up from the small gardens at the base of the tenement, sitting in the light of their open window to catch the evening breeze.

He sees a hand dart out and scoop one of the little blinking lights from the air, opening close to little Lin’s face, the baby with the bright gold eyes.  Li’s looking down with a smile on her face that only ever comes out around the kid, and even then it’s rare.  She lets the dragon-mask go, and her eyes soften and the everpresent fangs get put away.  Her daughter laughs and then stares with awe at the tiny light in her mother’s hand.

Jet can’t quite match that sight to anything he can remember- eight years old is a very long time ago, and what’s left he tries to keep safe, buried deep in the dark.  It’s the losing of it he keeps emblazoned on his sleeve, a banner to fight under and a constant driving lash.

But still he wonders; is this what I fought for?  Was that what was supposed to come after, when there was no more fighting to be done and you’d put in your share?

New lights dance around the two of them, the girls who should have been sisters instead of mother and child, and he watches that lean, pale hand reach out and scoop the sparks from the sky.  Watches it fold over, and gently snuff them out.

Li is kissing her daughter’s hand, and saying something, maybe admonishing her.  The new sparks stop, and the genuine fireflies came back out to play.

Jet walks on.

The next day, he catches her hand in the tea-shop as she hands him his ginger, and traces the smooth, unmarked palm, watches her eyes flicker in mingled distrust and want.

He smirks, and drops his coin to pay for the drink, and walks out with a shiver.

Wrong hand, he tells himself.

The city’s underbelly calls, and there’s work to be done.

…

Comments

[attackfish.livejournal.com]

Well, that was less violent than I figured... Poor Jet.

[dark-69-phoenix.livejournal.com]

Is that a reference to Firefly in that title there?

Much approval. ~3~