FicWad

The disadvantage of history is that it is written only from the perspective of the victor. We do not understand the feelings of those who lost; their true motivations or aspirations. Instead, we must analyze the picture painted by those who were merely around to tell the tale.

It was for that reason that Shaiming was regarded in the Fire Nation capitol as "Shaiming the True," a nickname that failed miserably in portraying an accurate image of the noble.

The only advantage that can be plainly understood of this is this; if someone constructs a legacy of lies, the farther they shall fall when it is torn away from them.

Bo was well aware of this.

Shaiming had just left Azulon's court, having been granted a private audience with the Fire Lord. Now, surrounded by his five bodyguards, he made his way back to what had once been lord Chao's estate under cover of night.

Having considered his options, Bo understood that the best approach would be to attack from an alley, striking fast and disabling all of the guards in one fell swoop. Yet he could not bring himself to do such. Bo was a soldier long before he had become a noble, and to strike from the shadows felt like a coward's tactic.

And so, Bo stood directly in front of the estate, alone.

As Shaiming and his guards turned the corner, they came to a halt.

"Ah, excellent! One of you has already come out to greet me! Please go inform the servants to prepare a bath, I wish to retire soon," he commanded as he started forward.

The masked soldier remained motionless.

Shaiming narrowed his eyes, sneering at the trash's obvious insolence. "Guard, did you not hear me? I ordered you to do something."

Silence.

"Deal with him," he muttered, the five bodyguards stepping away from him. As they came halfway between Shaiming and the soldier, he began moving.

He lifted his hands slowly, drawing off the helmet. Tossing it aside, he stood glaring towards the coward.

Shaiming squinted, trying to make out the figure through the darkness. The moment it registered, his eyes went wide, his mouth hanging open in fear. He turned his body, tripping over himself as he tried to dash away.

Bo simply stepped forward, the guards lifting their hands to attack.




Wen Lan stood, motionless.

The Demon sat, motionless.

The two had been in this deadlock for half an hour.

She had used the first part of that half hour to determine a proper greeting. The latter part was for figuring out the appropriate actions to be taken while executing the greeting. Having arrived to a conclusion, she stood rigid; folding her hands in front of her before bowing.

At least, that had been the plan. Having become so engaged in thought, Wen Lan had forgotten the two kettles she was holding. When she motioned her hands in front of her the two collided, a sharp sound flooding the cave. This caused her to jump slightly, almost dropping one of the kettles.

Blushing from embarrassment, she looked towards the stranger.

He had not moved. His back was still to her, his head tilted as the mask glanced at her coldly.

Setting down the kettles, she bowed politely.

"I am Wen Lan, of lord Chin-Hwa's estate."

His head turned, looking back towards the far wall.

She worried that she had lost his interest, perhaps offended him. Lifting one of the kettles, she called out to him. "I have brought you tea, on behalf of Madame Min..."

There was silence, before his head turned slightly towards her again. Shifting his body, he reached his right hand behind a rock, pulling something out. Passing it to his left, he set a cup down beside him before turning his attention to the far wall again.

Taking this as an invitation, she approached slowly and gently. With quiet grace, she took to her knees and poured from the kettle. She set the kettle down to her left, folding her hands in her lap.

He turned his head slightly, the mask closer and even more intimidating now.

A few moments passed before she realized there was a reason for his lack of movement. "Am I too close?"

No response.

She nodded her head slightly in apology, standing up. Gathering the two kettles, she made her way to the entrance of the cave, kneeling there. Glancing towards him, she watched as he grasped the cup.

It was exactly how Min had described. He faced towards the far wall, his right hand rising to lift his mask slightly. Tilting his head back, he took a deep sip from the cup.

As he did this, Wen Lan glanced again at his arm and back. She had become accustomed to the scars, now able to regard them as a natural part of his body. Understanding this, her attention came to another feature; his muscles. She studied his arm as it held up the cup, her eyes trailing along his shoulder and to his back. For a moment, she wondered what they felt like.

Realizing her thoughts and how unbecoming they were of a noble, she snapped her attention towards the wall opposite her, her face becoming slightly flushed.

He set the cup down to his left, his right hand readjusting the mask.

She looked again towards him, this time hoping for some form of reaction.

"...Min didn't brew this."

"No," she answered.

"It isn't Sun's brew. Or her daughter's."

"Correct. That particular tea was brewed by me; I hope it wasn't displeasing." The Demon was walking a very thin line between observation and insult.

"Better than Sun's," he muttered the compliment.

"I thank you," she smiled, bowing her head softly.

He faced back towards the far wall.

Wen Lan began to suspect that tea was a method of conversation for the stranger, and she was more than happy to oblige. Lifting the kettle, she made her way back to the cup, pouring again. Afterwards, she resumed her post at the entrance to the cave.

The Demon repeated the motion, his right hand tilting his mask before drinking.

This time, she decided to initiate the conversation. "I must confess...There is a reason I sought you out."

He continued drinking.

"I wanted to thank you for the other day. It was because of your actions that we were able to reach the valley."

Setting the cup down, he adjusted his mask again.

"I thank you," she placed her hands on the ground, bowing in full.

"Is the girl alright?"

Wen Lan thought about the question for a moment, then realized he was referencing Xiu. "Ah, yes. The cut on her arm wasn't deep; I was able to bandage it."

"Hmm," he grunted.

She made her way towards the cup, filling it again before returning to the cave entrance.

"How long have you been brewing tea?" he asked quietly, lifting the cup again.

A bit embarrassed by her own inexperience, she admitted quietly. "Five days."

His body shuddered slightly as he spit out some tea, slowly recomposing himself.

She winced, hoping she hadn't made some sort of error in telling him.

Wen Lan was mistaken, but not in the way she had suspected. His spitting out of the tea was due to extreme shock. Sun had been brewing tea since she was ten, Min wanting her to inherit the family business. In five days, Wen Lan had managed to rival a woman who had been practicing for decades.

To say he was impressed would be an understatement.

"Is it alright?" she asked quietly.

"...It is delicious," he gave the compliment almost inaudibly.

Though having practically whispered it, Wen Lan caught it, smiling with deep relief as she blushed slightly.

"If you'd like," she paused, nervous as she touched the other kettle, "I have a special brew I've prepared..." she was extremely nervous, this particular brew of tea untested by Min.

Silently, he placed his cup down to his left.

She approached the cup, pouring it slowly. Backing up a few paces, she dropped gracefully to her knees, observing.

As he tilted his head back and began drinking, she bit her lower lip nervously.




The first two guards had fallen victim to their own lack of reflex speed, Bo's wall of fire washing over them as they screamed out in pain. The next guard made the mistake of looking towards the fallen guards, leaving a momentary window of opportunity for Bo to attack from the left.

Kicking the guard in the chest, a burst of fire tore into him, launching him backwards.

The fourth guard managed to duck, dodging the now airborne third. He fought valiantly, quickly exchanging blows with the fallen noble. Yet for all the guard's experience and training, he was able to last only three moves against Bo.

The fifth guard launched a large wave of flame, rushing forward to succeed where the others had failed. As he drew closer, he could make out the silhouette of Bo through the flames, his arms moving in a circular motion that parted the fire around him.

He crouched, thrusting his hands forward against the guard's legs as each released a shot of fire. Howling in pain, the guard fell to the ground.

Shaiming lay there, staring as Bo approached slowly. Eyes that had once been of complacent wisdom had grown fierce and hateful, the flames of his attacks plaguing the ground behind him as he made his way to the noble, who began clutching at the dirt, climbing back to his feet to make his escape.

Bo had come too far to let the coward escape now. He spread his legs out, motioning his arms quickly before bathing the ground below Shaiming in flame.

The noble fell to the ground again, flailing his legs as he tried to disperse the flames. He could feel the bits of flame burning through the cloth, stinging his legs the moment they touched. Sobbing, he swatted at the flames with his arms, finally managing to smother them. He looked up just in time to see Bo's hateful stare, his hand grasping his throat.

"D...Don't kill me...!" Shaiming pleaded, his face wet with tears as the flames grew taller around them.

"No," Bo grunted. "You don't get death; that would be too easy."

"Wh...Wha-Augh!" Shaiming began screaming as he felt Bo's other hand on his knee, burning into it.

"Let's eliminate escape from the equation," he glared before drawing his other hand to Shaiming's free leg. His palms burned, the smell of burning hair and flesh rising quickly as his hands burned through Shaiming's knees. Standing up, he watched as the coward flailed around helplessly, screaming in pain at the loss of his legs.

As Bo crouched back down near him, he flailed his arms at him feebly. Catching his hands, Shaiming howled louder as Bo's hands grew hotter yet again, burning off his target's fingers.

"Why!?" It was the only word Bo could make out from the howls.

"Why?" he was almost insulted by the question, as he grabbed Shaiming by the face. "Because you destroyed lives for money, for power. You robbed men of their lives, and a girl of her smile," he spit into the coward's face, before clutching the sides of his head harder. "And I'm going to punish you for it."

"Wh...?"

"Death is too good for you," Bo's eyes narrowed as his hands grew hotter. "Listen carefully; this is the last thing you'll ever hear: I'm going to destroy you, Shaiming. I'm going to rob you of your hearing, your body and your pride. But be aware; I'm leaving you your sight."

Sobbing, Shaiming flailed his fingerless arms helplessly, Bo ignoring the swats.

"I want you to see, want you to understand the stares you get as people pass you. I want you to be able to look at the fear your grotesque appearance inspires. And I want you to know that all of it, every disgusted look from a woman, every fearful expression on a child's face, it's all your own doing."

"No, plea," Shaiming couldn't finish the sentence, his throat emitting a high pitched scream as he felt his ears burning.

Bo felt them tighten, then fold, becoming charred bits of flesh between his fingers. He grasped the top of the noble's head, burning off patches of his hair. Tilting his head back, he reached his hand into Shaiming's mouth, grasping his tongue.

It was then that Shaiming fell unconscious from the pain.

Grasping the noble's face, Bo left one final burn mark; the shape of his own hand. He stood slowly, looking over that which he had done. He looked up at the sound of the oncoming soldiers storming the front gates.

Having accomplished what he set out to do, Bo had no other reason to remain alive. Yet he was a soldier, his spirit fierce and indomitable. To simply stand idly and succumb to death without fighting would be dishonorable.

And so, he took his stance. He motioned his hand from one side to the other, his eyes unmoving as they remained focus towards the wave of soldiers.

A blue spark charged over his fingertips.



Wen Lan stared hopefully as he set down the cup, awaiting his reaction.

He sat silently a moment, readjusting his mask. A quiet pause filled the cave before he muttered one word, curiously.

"Plum?"

"Yes," she smiled. She was not particularly surprised that he had guessed her secret weapon's main ingredient, after seeing him understand that Min and Sun had not made the first tea by merely tasting it.

"Min never uses plums," he noted.

"Yes, she is allergic to them."

"That's a shame."

"Oh?"

"Plums are my favorite," he explained.

She smiled softly, happy to have found some common ground with him. "They're my favorite as well." She stood, refilling his cup before returning to what had become her post.

"...The tea makes us even," he grunted.

"I'm sorry?" Wen Lan couldn't quite understand what he was referencing.

"You came here to thank me. The tea makes us even."

She stared quietly, before smiling and closing her eyes. "I'm afraid I must disagree."

"Hmm?"

"As I said before; it is because of you that the others and I were able to arrive in the valley safely. The tea is merely a token of my gratitude; I had no intention of using it to repay the debt owed to you."

"...Hmm."

"I owe you thanks for something else, as well."

He glanced back towards her.

"Your words on the river...I aim to spread and maintain peace, yet I hadn't considered that such isn't a path agreeable to all."

Silent, he continued glancing.

"Over the past few days, I've had the chance to consider and think about your words. You are right; there are those who will choose battle over compromise. Though I have come to understand this, it does nothing to change my intentions."

"You still choose to work towards peace, even if some exist who oppose it?"

"Yes," she smiled softly. "I do not live for those who oppose it; I live for those who will accept peace. I will use whatever strength I have for them."

"And those who live only to fight?"

She looked towards him, a serene look of hope in her eyes. "I will try to reason with them. And if they refuse, I will use all my power to protect those who desire peace from them."

"...Hmm."

"And now, I choose to do so for this valley." She smiled as she looked out towards the valley. She continued admiring the view for a short while, interrupted by the rough sound of his voice.

"Then we are the same."

Considering this, she continued to smile as she looked towards him again, nodding slightly. "I think so, yes."

"I will deter conflict with these hands," he lifted his hands slightly, his fingers tensing.

"And I will encourage peace with this voice," she continued.

"I will give my life for them. Fight until my last breath."

"Then we truly are the same," she smiled gently. "Would you like more tea?"

"...Yes." There was something in his voice, a hint that he had trouble admitting this simple request.

Wen Lan approached him, pouring from the kettle yet again. She returned to cave's entrance, kneeling.

"You are a Fire Nation noble?"

"I was," she was relieved that he was making conversation. It gave a certain level of comfort to the situation. Sparing no details, she explained to him what had happened after they last parted.

"You are of the Earth Kingdom now, then."

"Perhaps...I believe my loyalty lies more towards lord Chin-Hwa and the valley than either nation."

"Agreed," he sipped from the cup, still facing away from her.

"Ah, perhaps you'll find this funny; did you know that the spot where you once sat in the tea house is still left open for you? Others have been keeping away from it, in case you should ever return."

"I didn't know."

"I think it's touching."

"I hope others sit there soon. I don't want there to be less room in the tea house just because I sat there, once. It would cost Min business."

"I doubt Min minds it much; she brags about knowing you."

"Yes, that sounds like Min."

Wen Lan rose again, moving to refill his cup. As she tipped the kettle, she discovered it was now empty.

"Ah," she was surprised and a bit disappointed.

"Hmm," he noted lowly.

"I did not expect it to run out so quickly."

"It's fine."

"I suppose I should return the kettle to the tea house, then..." she trailed off, something in her curious as to what his response would be.

"Yes."

Gathering the two kettles, she stepped towards the entrance. She looked back towards him, searching for words.

"If you would like...I could come back tomorrow, with more tea."

There was silence as he faced towards the wall.

Silently discouraged, she turned away, taking a step out of the cave as she heard his voice behind her.

"Yes."

Wen Lan turned quickly, watching his back again. She smiled gently, bowing again. "I thank you for your time, and look forward to our next meeting."

"Wait."

She was a bit startled by this. She watching as he stood, turning towards her. His chest was heavily scarred, his muscles well defined. He took a few steps forward before bowing to her.

"Thank you for your tea."

Almost involuntarily, she returned the bow. "Thank you for the conversation."

As she made her way down the mountain trail, she took a quick glance upward.

He stood there at the edge of the rock shelf that lay just before his cave, his mask turned towards her as she continued down the trail. He nodded his head to her slowly.

Smiling, Wen Lan returned the nod before a rock wall obstructed her view. She continued along the path, smiling as she recalled bits and pieces of their conversation. Before long she found herself at the edge of the valley, Bai-Jing in the distance. She stopped as she came upon another patch of the roses, admiring them.

Entering the tea house, she was met with a sudden quiet, the patrons examining her as she made her way towards the kitchen. It was obvious from their stares that Min made no effort to hide Wen Lan's whereabouts.

The quiet was followed by a shrill screech, the old woman becoming aware of the situation.

"Why'd it go quiet?! Is she here?! She's here, isn't she?" she rushed out of the kitchen, her face beaming as she ran towards Wen Lan. Fetching the tea kettles, she hurried back towards the kitchen, waving at the beautiful noble to follow her.

"Well?! C'mon c'mon, I don't have all day! I'm old, I don't have time to wait around for you, hurry up!"

Smiling at her enthusiasm, Wen Lan quietly obeyed, following her quickly. As she entered the kitchen she took one of the spare aprons, tying it around herself.

Min was of the philosophy that if you were in the kitchen, you were there to work. Even if you came in merely to check on things, you were not permitted to leave unless you had contributed. Wen Lan found this a very agreeable practice, and made sure she had prepared at least one kettle of tea each time she entered.

"Tell me, tell me!" the old woman fussed as she checked some of the pots. "Get out of the way!" she nudged Sun as she looked into one of the kettles, tossing in a few leaves.

Sun simply narrowed her eyes, moving on to another kettle as she grumbled quiet complaints about her mother.

"He was very polite," Wen Lan nodded.

As Sun entered the serving area, she sighed. Almost all of the patrons were leaning towards the kitchen, trying to hear the conversation.

"Polite?! I already knew that, you need to tell me something I don't know! How'd he like your tea? Tea's the most important thing!"

"He enjoyed it, I believe."

"What about the secret weapon? The plum tea? Did you give him the plum tea?"

"Yes, it turns out that plums are his favorite fruit."

"His favorite! Of course his favorite is the one thing I'm allergic to! Wait, plums are your favorite too, aren't they?" She blinked excitedly.

"Why, yes."

"You two share the same favorite fruit!" the old woman clasped her hands together, taking this evidence as indisputable proof that the two had been made for one another. "We've gotta make him more, we have to perfect it!"

As she said this, some of the customers began finishing their tea quickly, planning on making their next order of the plum variety.

"And he thanked you when you left?"

"Yes, he bowed politely, just as you described."

"Of course he did! He has a good heart, that Demon! Now, you have to go back, when are you going back?"

"I think I'd like to visit him again tomorrow."

The old woman almost had a heart attack, now having two counts of complete and absolute proof that the two were in love and going to have hundreds of children.

"And he said your tea was good?!"

"Yes, he said it was delicious. I am grateful to you for teaching me so much," Wen Lan bowed towards the old woman after preparing a pot of lemon tea.

"Of course it was delicious, I taught you myself! Stop being so polite dear, a kitchen's no place to be polite!"

Wen Lan laughed as she stirred a few of the kettles.

"Mother, we've got a ton of orders for plum tea, you come out here while I make some!" Sun called out from the serving area.

"Bah, bunch of eavesdropping fools!" she yelled towards the serving area, the sound of laughter following. "They just all want to be like the Demon, like a bunch of kids!"

Wen Lan laughed again, sweating as steam rose up against her face. She continued working the kettles, now beginning to brew some plum tea.

Word spread fast of the Demon's favorite tea, and soon the tea house was packed tight with people. Even more so when the young men of the village heard there was a new and beautiful girl working there.

The kitchen was crowded, the noise was constant. Min and Sun bickered constantly, and there was no pause for rest.

Wen Lan loved it.




Most of his armor had been destroyed, stripped away by either fire or assault weaponry.

He had been fortunate enough to escape capture. Had he been apprehended, he would have been brought before Fire Lord Azulon. If such had been the case, the punishment he had subjected Shaiming to would have seemed a paradise compared to his fate. This was of little consequence to him; it was merely a matter of chance that he had been pushed back to the edge of a cliff, pushed off by a burst of fire.

He had been burned and wounded badly, the force of the fall breaking some of the bones in his upper body. His face had been torn up, his arms bleeding as the sea water washed over them. As he floated out to the ocean, the water continued seeping into his wounds, stinging more and more until he could no longer feel it.

Bo had delivered justice. He stood against countless Fire Nation soldiers and had somehow managed to survive. Satisfied and gazing up towards the night sky, he slowly closed his eyes, no longer able to feel the wind or water around him.

Nor could he feel himself being pulled up onto the raft of the Waterbender that discovered him.