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white_lotus2011-02-07 10:59 am
whitelotusmods) wrote in white_lotus2011-02-07 10:59 am
LNYE Fic: Banana Splits for Lady Ganesh
Title: Banana Splits
By:alcyone
Recipient: Lady Ganesh
Rating: G
Character: Aang
Summary: Aang’s hoping to talk to an Avatar. No such luck.
Content Notes: none apply
The sea stretched out beneath Aang. He glided on the air currents, the fresh ocean air on his face. Land dotted the expanse at random intervals: islands and the much larger peninsulas. He needed some time away.
He had hoped that once the war ended he could finally breathe. No more obligations, no more chases across half the continent, no more fighting. If someone had told him everything would be harder after the war ended, he might have hidden himself inside another glacier.
As Sokka had blithely pointed out, it was much easier to punch someone in the face than negotiate with him. Which was basically what Aang was stuck doing. He had to try to keep the tenuous peace that had settled over the three nations in the aftermath of the war from erupting.
He never thought he’d miss their days of running, but—dangers aside—they were a lot more fun.
He veered for a small island a short distance away. Using airbending to slow his descent, Aang dropped to the white sand. He retracted his glider’s wings, holding the newly reformed staff closely. The sun would be setting soon. Katara had suggested that speaking to one of his past lives might help. As it was the equinox, the time during which the spirit world was furthest away, he’d opted for some quiet place in order to meditate without Toph amusing herself by tossing rocks at him to test his reflexes.
He dropped to his feet a short distance from the surf where he was sure the high tide wouldn’t reach. The staff balanced on his lap. He closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind, the sound of the waves and the rustling of the leaves in the calm breeze lulling him.
“Please, Avatar Roku,” he whispered. “I really need to speak with you.”
“Are you lost?”
“Aah!” Aang jumped to his feet, staff immediately flying to his hands and aimed at the speaker. A little girl stood before him. She wore a long-sleeved shift over long pants. She was barefoot and her hair was loose and wild around her face. She was alit with a soft white-blue glow.
“Oh.” Disappointment laced his voice. “I was hoping for Avatar Roku. Or an Avatar.” The last he muttered to himself.
“Who’s that?” she asked.
“He’s, uh, someone I know. Maybe you can help me. I’m looking for a spirit. Like you, but older.”
“Are you calling me a spirit?” She crossed her arms in front of her chest.
Aang scratched his head. “Yeah. You are a spirit.”
“No, I’m not.”
There was a long pause.
“Um…yes, you are,” Aang tried again.
“I am not!” the little girl snapped.
“But you’re…glowing…and you’re…kind of blue…and you’re glowing.”
“I am not a spirit!”
“But—”
“You’re rude!” Aang nearly went cross-eyed keeping the finger that was jabbed in the direction of his face in focus. “Do I start making up stuff about you after first meeting you?”
“But…you’re a spirit.”
“I AM NOT A SPIRIT!”
The little girl’s chest rose and fell sharply. She glared at Aang, an indignant finger still pointing at him. Aang held up his arms in a symbol of surrender.
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry! You are not a spirit.”
“And what do you know? I could be a spirit,” she argued.
Aang stared at her.
“Hey, can you climb?” she asked. Aang’s eyebrows slammed together in question. Her rapid shifts in topic were starting to make him dizzy.
“I can climb,” he answered carefully. He didn’t want her yelling at him again.
“Then you can help me!” She grinned, revealing a full mouth of baby teeth. She jumped toward him and started tugging on his sleeve.
“Help you with what? Hey, don’t jerk so hard!” Aang tried to extricate his sleeve from her grip, but she proved stronger and much more stubborn than he’d anticipated. She pulled him among the trees, which were a slot denser than he remembered. She finally paused in front of a gnarled, old trunk. She cheerfully pointed up at its branches, which were populated with large, hissing monkeys.
“With that.”
Aang felt himself pale.
“One of them took my toy.” The little girl glared up at one whose large hand was closed around something Aang couldn’t see. “I tried throwing rocks and yelling and crying, but they just make weird noises at me like ‘Hoot! Hoot!’” She made an appropriate face to go along with the noises. “I tried to climb up, but I’m too little. But you’re big!” She grinned toothily at him.
Aang glanced from the grinning child to the hissing monkey and back to the child.
“I’ll do it,” he muttered, head hanging in defeat. She squealed and hugged his knee.
The first try ended with the branch he was holding snapping and his fall. The second had him hugging the trunk, trying vainly to scramble up. A third ended before it began when a monkey lobbed a fruit at his head. The fourth had him shimmy quickly back down after he came too close to one of the monkeys and it bared its teeth threateningly.
“You’re doing it wrong,” the child said after the thirteenth time Aang fell out of the tree.
“And what am I supposed to do?” he asked her. He rubbed his aching backside.
“You have to get them to trust you,” she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“And how do I do that?” There was a tap at his shoulder. “Huh? Ah!” A monkey stretched out a hand. Aang grabbed the little girl and pulled her out of its reach. However, the monkey simply opened its hand. In its palm rested a doll in a purple dress. It offered the toy to them, making small noises. Aang reached out to take it.
“One at a time,” the little girl said.
When his hand closed around the doll, a memory flitted to him as brief as it was clear. A woman dressed in long purple robes, one finger stroking the doll’s blank face. Her face reflected simple nostalgic joy. As it faded, the little girl had the woman’s same smile.
“You’re an Avatar. You’re one of the first Avatars,” Aang realized. The girl’s smile widened and he could see the similarities between her child and adult forms. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re an Avatar?”
“You didn’t ask.”
“I said you were a spirit and you almost bit my head off!”
“Because I’m not a spirit. I’m an Avatar.”
Aang’s jaw opened and closed several times. The girl waited. Finally, he wordlessly thrust the doll out to her.
“Here.” She giggled at his tone. She took the doll from his hand and hugged it tightly to her. Her cheek rested over the doll’s head.
“Aang?” She tugged on his sleeve again. “Try it one at a time. One person, one day. It’ll get better.” The tree with the monkeys disappeared. The denser foliage vanished, revealing the beach. She began fading.
“Wait! Why…” Aang paused, trying to word his question, “why are you…?”
“A child?” She shrugged. “I’m happy as a child. And it’s always fun to trick my incarnations.”
She giggled at his look. Before she vanished completely, she waved cheerfully at him.
When Aang opened his eyes, it was still night. A bright full moon provided enough light to see by. He walked into the copse of trees, finally pausing in front of one. He earthbended the patch of dirt in front of tree up, revealing a ceramic box. Inside it laid the doll in her purple dress, faded from age.
One at a time then. Katara would like the doll.
By:
alcyoneRecipient: Lady Ganesh
Rating: G
Character: Aang
Summary: Aang’s hoping to talk to an Avatar. No such luck.
Content Notes: none apply
The sea stretched out beneath Aang. He glided on the air currents, the fresh ocean air on his face. Land dotted the expanse at random intervals: islands and the much larger peninsulas. He needed some time away.
He had hoped that once the war ended he could finally breathe. No more obligations, no more chases across half the continent, no more fighting. If someone had told him everything would be harder after the war ended, he might have hidden himself inside another glacier.
As Sokka had blithely pointed out, it was much easier to punch someone in the face than negotiate with him. Which was basically what Aang was stuck doing. He had to try to keep the tenuous peace that had settled over the three nations in the aftermath of the war from erupting.
He never thought he’d miss their days of running, but—dangers aside—they were a lot more fun.
He veered for a small island a short distance away. Using airbending to slow his descent, Aang dropped to the white sand. He retracted his glider’s wings, holding the newly reformed staff closely. The sun would be setting soon. Katara had suggested that speaking to one of his past lives might help. As it was the equinox, the time during which the spirit world was furthest away, he’d opted for some quiet place in order to meditate without Toph amusing herself by tossing rocks at him to test his reflexes.
He dropped to his feet a short distance from the surf where he was sure the high tide wouldn’t reach. The staff balanced on his lap. He closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind, the sound of the waves and the rustling of the leaves in the calm breeze lulling him.
“Please, Avatar Roku,” he whispered. “I really need to speak with you.”
“Are you lost?”
“Aah!” Aang jumped to his feet, staff immediately flying to his hands and aimed at the speaker. A little girl stood before him. She wore a long-sleeved shift over long pants. She was barefoot and her hair was loose and wild around her face. She was alit with a soft white-blue glow.
“Oh.” Disappointment laced his voice. “I was hoping for Avatar Roku. Or an Avatar.” The last he muttered to himself.
“Who’s that?” she asked.
“He’s, uh, someone I know. Maybe you can help me. I’m looking for a spirit. Like you, but older.”
“Are you calling me a spirit?” She crossed her arms in front of her chest.
Aang scratched his head. “Yeah. You are a spirit.”
“No, I’m not.”
There was a long pause.
“Um…yes, you are,” Aang tried again.
“I am not!” the little girl snapped.
“But you’re…glowing…and you’re…kind of blue…and you’re glowing.”
“I am not a spirit!”
“But—”
“You’re rude!” Aang nearly went cross-eyed keeping the finger that was jabbed in the direction of his face in focus. “Do I start making up stuff about you after first meeting you?”
“But…you’re a spirit.”
“I AM NOT A SPIRIT!”
The little girl’s chest rose and fell sharply. She glared at Aang, an indignant finger still pointing at him. Aang held up his arms in a symbol of surrender.
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry! You are not a spirit.”
“And what do you know? I could be a spirit,” she argued.
Aang stared at her.
“Hey, can you climb?” she asked. Aang’s eyebrows slammed together in question. Her rapid shifts in topic were starting to make him dizzy.
“I can climb,” he answered carefully. He didn’t want her yelling at him again.
“Then you can help me!” She grinned, revealing a full mouth of baby teeth. She jumped toward him and started tugging on his sleeve.
“Help you with what? Hey, don’t jerk so hard!” Aang tried to extricate his sleeve from her grip, but she proved stronger and much more stubborn than he’d anticipated. She pulled him among the trees, which were a slot denser than he remembered. She finally paused in front of a gnarled, old trunk. She cheerfully pointed up at its branches, which were populated with large, hissing monkeys.
“With that.”
Aang felt himself pale.
“One of them took my toy.” The little girl glared up at one whose large hand was closed around something Aang couldn’t see. “I tried throwing rocks and yelling and crying, but they just make weird noises at me like ‘Hoot! Hoot!’” She made an appropriate face to go along with the noises. “I tried to climb up, but I’m too little. But you’re big!” She grinned toothily at him.
Aang glanced from the grinning child to the hissing monkey and back to the child.
“I’ll do it,” he muttered, head hanging in defeat. She squealed and hugged his knee.
The first try ended with the branch he was holding snapping and his fall. The second had him hugging the trunk, trying vainly to scramble up. A third ended before it began when a monkey lobbed a fruit at his head. The fourth had him shimmy quickly back down after he came too close to one of the monkeys and it bared its teeth threateningly.
“You’re doing it wrong,” the child said after the thirteenth time Aang fell out of the tree.
“And what am I supposed to do?” he asked her. He rubbed his aching backside.
“You have to get them to trust you,” she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“And how do I do that?” There was a tap at his shoulder. “Huh? Ah!” A monkey stretched out a hand. Aang grabbed the little girl and pulled her out of its reach. However, the monkey simply opened its hand. In its palm rested a doll in a purple dress. It offered the toy to them, making small noises. Aang reached out to take it.
“One at a time,” the little girl said.
When his hand closed around the doll, a memory flitted to him as brief as it was clear. A woman dressed in long purple robes, one finger stroking the doll’s blank face. Her face reflected simple nostalgic joy. As it faded, the little girl had the woman’s same smile.
“You’re an Avatar. You’re one of the first Avatars,” Aang realized. The girl’s smile widened and he could see the similarities between her child and adult forms. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re an Avatar?”
“You didn’t ask.”
“I said you were a spirit and you almost bit my head off!”
“Because I’m not a spirit. I’m an Avatar.”
Aang’s jaw opened and closed several times. The girl waited. Finally, he wordlessly thrust the doll out to her.
“Here.” She giggled at his tone. She took the doll from his hand and hugged it tightly to her. Her cheek rested over the doll’s head.
“Aang?” She tugged on his sleeve again. “Try it one at a time. One person, one day. It’ll get better.” The tree with the monkeys disappeared. The denser foliage vanished, revealing the beach. She began fading.
“Wait! Why…” Aang paused, trying to word his question, “why are you…?”
“A child?” She shrugged. “I’m happy as a child. And it’s always fun to trick my incarnations.”
She giggled at his look. Before she vanished completely, she waved cheerfully at him.
When Aang opened his eyes, it was still night. A bright full moon provided enough light to see by. He walked into the copse of trees, finally pausing in front of one. He earthbended the patch of dirt in front of tree up, revealing a ceramic box. Inside it laid the doll in her purple dress, faded from age.
One at a time then. Katara would like the doll.
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As Sokka had blithely pointed out, it was much easier to punch someone in the face than negotiate with him.
Funny and true--like many things Sokka says. I can definitely see Aang missing the adventure of...adventure.
"And it’s always fun to trick my incarnations.”
:D
This is lovely.
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I'm glad you enjoyed. :D
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