Author's Note: Hello all. I'm pretty new to this whole fanfiction thing, so please throw some advice my way if you have any. Reviews would be great! I'm intending this as a multi-chapter fic about the beginning of Baatar Jr. and Kuvira's relationship. It was kind of inspired by Suyin's comment that Kuvira had "turned her own son against her." I imagine Baatar and Kuvira having actually been in love much longer than Su knew about, and that there was no "turning against" involved, that Baatar was just supporting and believing in the woman he loved. It might have gotten a bit more nefarious from there (as they say, power corrupts), but I think the base of their relationship is pure, no brainwashing involved. So, along that train of thought, here's my little fic, with eventual Baatar Jr/Kuvira (development will be slow, so look elsewhere for a quick or anything M rated) Enjoy!
Chapter 1: Polite
Junior sat cross-legged on a bench, tugging at the gleaming metal collar around his neck. His mother, Suyin Beifong, the legendary metalbending daughter of Toph Beifong and matriarch of the metal clan, had given it to him as a gift for his 16th birthday. It was a mark of manhood, a right of passage really, since adults in Zaofu generally wore more elaborate metal ornaments than children. He knew his mother had meant to make him feel grown up, but the metal around Junior's neck just felt heavy and cold.
A slight breeze ruffled Junior's carefully combed brown hair, pulling him from his daydreams. Even in a poor mood, Junior couldn't help but admit that Zaofu's Beifong Square was a work of art. His father, Baatar Sr., the genius architect responsible for all of Zaofu's building projects, had mimicked the petal-like design of the city walls in the terraced steps of the plaza - someone standing at the reflecting pool in the center would see the square as a huge metal lotus flower blooming around them. Fountains and meticulously sculpted shrubbery broke up the harsh gleam off of the countless metal surfaces.
But to Junior, the real beauty was the newly installed rail system. Northbound and southbound trains guided by magnets slid silently along metal track, streaming through the twin stations located at the western and eastern ends of the plaza. From here, at the northbound terminal's waiting area, he could see the countless green-clad citizens as they climbed politely in and out of the shining carriages, never catching a glimpse of the carefully hidden machinery propelling their lives. Father is a fantastic architect, to be sure. But his real gift is in engineering, Junior thought to himself, tapping his fingers impatiently against the metal bench. He checked his watch - the train should have been here five minutes ago. On second thought, maybe he should stick to buildings.
After a few more minutes of waiting, Junior heard a soft ping come over the station intercoms, reminding those waiting at the terminal that a train was arriving. Everything was polite in Zaofu - people, buildings, culture, train station reminder pings, every aspect of life here was comfortable and unobtrusive. Sometimes the sheer monotony of it all got on Junior's nerves, but it was better than living in fear and squalor, like so many did in other parts of the Earth Kingdom. Poverty and disease were obsolete of here, let alone bandits and warlords. Junior stood up and strode for the train, gasping a little as the heft of the metal resting on his chest resisted his breath. He'd get used to that, he thought, grabbing a pole for support as the train lurched slightly, the gleaming plaza shrinking as the train hovered away. Junior pulled out a notebook and jotted down a note on the train delay. I'll have to tell father about this. As the train carried him home, Junior slid the notebook back into his satchel and lifted a hand to tug fruitlessly at his metal collar.
Suyin Beifong was shaking her foot restlessly, the short cord of the telephone preventing her from pacing the large, sweeping arcs she usually did when frustrated.
"What do you mean, you quit? It's not like you didn't know the commitment you were making when you joined. This isn't just some game. We've got a performance in two weeks, and some very important people are going to be there."
She continued to readjust her stance agitatedly, anger boiling in the green pools of her eyes.
"No, that simply won't due. That brilliant tycoon from Republic City, Hiroshi Sato, is it? Well, he's going to be in the audience. Zaofu doesn't exist in a vacuum, Ming. We need to maintain relationships with men like Sato to keep going. And an elephant-rat's nest of a dance performance just isn't going to cut it!"
The voice on the other end of the phone was muffled, so Junior couldn't make out quite was going on, but from the conversation, he assumed that something was going wrong with Su's metalbending dance troupe. He shrugged off his bag, hanging it with his brothers' on a rack by the door before tiptoeing across the metal hall, headed for his room. He needed to decompress, maybe read for a while. Mostly, he needed to get that damned metal necklace off. But he couldn't offend his mother, so, until he was in private, it stayed on. If he was lucky, he'd make it across the long entryway before she got off the phone or noticed him.
"Fine! You were never better than mediocre, anyways!" Su slammed the phone down, its metal shell crushing beneath her angrily twitching fingers. She'd have to have Baatar fix that later. Taking a deep breath, she brushed her hands across her robes, smoothing them down, and turned to see Junior stalking towards the stairs. Su had felt her son's footsteps the moment he had stepped into the house.
"Junior! How was your day?" Su's severe expression melted away, a smile lighting up her face as she strode towards Junior. Her oldest son looked so much like his father, she noted, eyes falling proudly on the collar she had given him a few weeks ago for his birthday. They grew up so fast.
With a sigh, Junior opened his arms to accept his mother's embrace. "Fine, mom." He was taller than her, now, something neither of them had quite gotten used to.
Su released her son, raising a hand to his face to tuck a stray strand of hair behind his ear. Junior took a deep breath, attempting to center himself even though his mother's treating him like a child put him on edge. Su raised an eyebrow. "Just fine? Anything interesting happen? What about that girl I told you about, Minh Li? The guard captain's daughter? Did you talk to her?"
Junior growled under his breath, pulling his mother's hand from his face. "No. It was just fine. And maybe, if you like Minh Li so much, you should talk to her. Not me." His mother's bright, expecting eyes narrowed in frustration. Realizing his mistake, he forced an awkward smile. "But uh, how was your day?"
Su's eyebrows pulled together and she crossed her arms aggressively, turning away from her son. "Like you care. You never want to talk to me about anything anymore." She flashed a glare at Junior. "I don't even know why I bothered trying to make conversation. I'll be in the training yard with your brothers, practicing. Talk to your father if you need anything." She whirled away, footsteps echoing furiously through the empty hall.
Junior winced. His mother knew that bending was a sore spot for him. Whenever they fought, she'd bring it up. Of course, she'd never come outright and chastise Junior's inability to bend-it was more subtle than that: "I'm going to go train" "Go be alone in the library, I'll be outside," "If you're going to be like that, you can watch Opal while I work with Wing and Wei." Su knew how the right emphasis on the right word could strike straight at Junior's insecurity. He hated it - she'd never apologize, never even hint that she regretted being so petty, cutting so low. And, even though Junior knew she loved him, it hurt. He couldn't help but feel like a failure in her eyes. He was the average son.
Fuming, Junior wheeled away, charging up the staircase and into his room. He quickly shrugged off his over-tunic and boots, throwing his glinting collar into the pile of deep green clothes crumpled on his bed. He stomped over to his bathroom, throwing his glasses to the side and turning on the sink. Junior cupped his hand beneath the facet, splashing icy water into his face and growling into his hands. Mother needs to back off, he thought angrily. He kept his face in his hands for a few minutes, feeling the cold water held against his skin warm and drip through the space between his fingers. Eventually, his rage dripped away too, and he drew his hands away from his face. He never stayed mad for long-the hot anger always gave way to a sort cooler, empty aching after a while. It still hurt, but just more... politely.
Shaking the water from his hands, Junior met his own gaze in the mirror. He really did look like his father - the stubble just starting to appear on his chin only reinforced the resemblance. Junior exhaled, fogging the reflective surface with his breath.
After toweling off his hands and face, Junior trudged back to his bedroom and flopped on his bed, rolling to the side and stretching to grab a book he had left on his bedside table. The red leather cover felt supple, inviting, beneath his hands. It was so unlike the cold metal that practically everything else was made of here. The book was classic from the literary tradition of the pre-Sozin Fire Nation. Junior was especially drawn to Fire Nation books, mostly because they were so emotionally intense, so unlike his subdued life in Zaofu. The heroine of the book loved so deeply that she burned an entire country and leaped into a volcano - not the wisest way to deal with a broken heart, of course, but Junior found the story compelling nonetheless.
A few pages in, Junior heard a high pitched, juvenile voice calling from beneath his bedroom balcony. "Juuuunnnnniiioooorrr! Where are yoooouuuuu?" Sighing, he marked his place in the book and stepped out into the soft twilight air of his balcony. His little sister, Opal was yelling up at him.
"Opal, I'm up here. Cut it out." He called down. Opal's wide, hazel-green eyes lit up.
"Junior! Daddy told me to go find you. Dinner's ready. You'd better be there, grumpy pants." At that, Opal grinned, trotting off into the house and out of Junior's view. Of all his siblings, Opal was his favorite. Perhaps it was because she was still young enough to be endearing in the way that children often are, but maybe it was also because she didn't throw rocks at his head or metalbend his chopsticks into useless shapes.
Junior shrugged on his clothes, rolling his eyes as he fastened the metal choker around his neck and pulled on his shoes. Time to put on a happy face, even though he knew it was a futile effort. If he knew his mother, she wasn't going to let their little fight go for at least a night. Dinner was going to be anything but polite.