Media: Fic
Title: Solar Winds (Avatar: The Last Airbender Fusion, 37/?)
Rating: PG-13 for innuendo, swearing, violence.
Spoilers: None for either series that I am aware of.
Warnings: None for this chapter. See Master Post for the grand list of warnings.
Word Count: 4500
Summary: Kurt Hummel, the current Avatar, finds a Firebending teacher in the young Prince Blaine. Is that all he finds? Or will destiny conspire to push them into becoming more, to the world and each other?
Author's Note: Backstory! I bring it. Also, more jealous!Kurt, foot-in-mouth!Finn, oblivious!adorable!Blaine, HBIC!Mercedes, and… Rachel. Oh, and Artie too, I guess. :P Hope you enjoy!
CHAPTER 37 – Fire Lady Linda
Rachel leads them down the Way, speaking as she goes, narrating the history of the woman who bore him, the half of Blaine that he never really got to know. As they go, his eyes trace her history into the lines of the architecture.
"Linda Marie Clair," Rachel says, "was one of the greatest rags-to-riches stories of modern times. She was featured in at least one production of almost every play you can see from here, many times in a starring role."
"Rags?" Blaine asks. "What do you mean?"
"She wasn't born into affluence," Rachel says. "It's difficult, of course, to distinguish legend from fact at times, but everything I've heard seems to agree she was the daughter of a music shop owner who lived by very simple means. She had no formal vocal training, but her voice was marvelous to hear. She was discovered by a local director as she tuned the instruments one day, and he insisted she try her hand at performing."
Blaine nods, imagining his mother sweeping a shop floor as a young woman, tuning the instruments with expert precision. The image seems strangely fitting; she was always very hands-on.
"She held quite a few dramatic roles during her tenure," Rachel says, "and while she had her detractors, her acting was largely agreed to be fairly strong. You can see on your left, the Barrett Playhouse is currently hosting a production of 'The Girl From The Moon,' in which she had her most famous dramatic turn as 'Kaguya,' the title character."
"I know that one," Blaine says, turning his head slightly to relate the story to those walking with him. "It's about… well, obviously it's about a girl from the moon, but she doesn't know it. A farmer finds her in a bamboo chute, and raises her as his own. She grows up pretty well, but she always feels strange and kind of alienated, like she doesn't quite belong there. She winds up riding a flying bamboo chute back to the moon and meets her real parents, but she doesn't feel right there, either. In the end, she comes back to earth, and she is happy here, because it's what she knows."
Rachel nods. "Excellent summary! Even her critics praised the sense of estrangement and alienation she brought to the role." She pauses for a second. "It is a role that I feel I can relate to, at times. I myself was born without the gift of Fire, you see, and thus I am often very…"
"Wow," Mercedes cuts in with a small smile. "Sounds like a regular fairytale. A common girl becomes a famous actress, becomes a Princess, becomes a Fire Lady."
"Yes, well," Rachel says, her voice losing a bit of enthusiasm, "it was not always a smooth journey. At least, not for her..."
Blaine furrows his brow. "What happened?"
"One day, she was in the middle of a performance as Kushinada in The Orochi Cycle, and she just… left. Got up, walked off stage, and refused to come back," Rachel says sadly.
"Why?" Blaine asks.
"That's the thing, really. No one knows, and as far as I know, she never told anyone. She was blackballed for it."
"Umm… what's that mean?" Finn asks.
"No one would cast her," Kurt says. "She was basically exiled from the theater community."
"I was just about to say that," Rachel says, slightly annoyed, "but you are correct. She returned a year later, and no one would hire her. Often, they would refuse to even speak to her."
Blaine feels a twinge of pain in his heart at the thought of his mother being rejected so coldly. "So… what happened next?"
At this, Rachel smiles. It's different than the smiles he has seen from her so far—it seems warmer, more genuine, brighter without being blinding. "She kept at it," Rachel says simply. "She refused to give up, accepting whatever job they would give her and performing it admirably. Eventually, she was cast in minor roles, which allowed her to showcase her heretofore unknown talent for comedic timing. Her most famous comedic role being that of the comically voluptuous Priestess Rao in The Nine Tales of Ninetails."
"Vol… voluppitous? What's that?" Finn asks.
"Voluptuous. And… ummm…" Blaine says. "It means 'well-endowed.'"
Finn just stares at him.
"Blessed in… certain areas. Around the chest," Blaine clarifies.
Finn tilts his head to the side.
"Giant boobs," Kurt deadpans.
"Oh," Finn says. "Why didn't you just say that?"
Blaine blushes. "Nevermind. So… they liked her again?"
Rachel nods. "Slowly but surely, she was accepted back into the community. She went from unknown, to star, to pariah, and eventually, back to star. The end result…"
She stops in front of a very old, very distinguished-looking building. "…is that she was re-cast in the role of Kushinada when the actress who replaced her moved on. Here, at the Groban Theater, she reclaimed the role that nearly cost her everything she had worked for. And by all accounts, she nailed it."
Blaine smiles. "That's amazing. But… that's not all, is it?"
Rachel scoffs. "Oh, of course not, it's just… umm… the next section of the story… merits more than a simple telling of the tale. It's much more deserving of something along the lines of a… reenactment," she says excitedly. She bounces over to Blaine and puts a hand on his shoulder. "Wait here. I have a few things I would like to set up first. Someone will retrieve you shortly."
With that, she turns on her heel so fast that her hair barely misses smacking Blaine in the face (he can feel a 'whoosh' of air as it goes by). She dashes into the theater, leaving the rest of them to… stand around like idiots.
"She could've at least let us come into the lobby," Kurt says with an eye roll.
Blaine smiles at him, not quite able to come up with a response… his mind is occupied with the image of his mother in countless costumes on countless stages, acting out the stories that filled his dreams as a child…
Artie wonders; would he be a jerk if he punched out a cat? It kind of seems like it; he's much bigger than they are, not even taking into account his deadly kung fu skills. On the other hand, they're really annoying and nothing else seems capable of getting rid of them. He is not a fan of violence against animals (unless they instigate it, at which point, bring it, fuzzy), but hot damn these kitties are testing his patience.
If Mr. Light-Foot didn't know someone was following him before, he definitely knows it now. In fact, he probably thinks he is being stalked by an army of cats. Artie knows from experience how freaky that experience is because it's happening to him right now.
Hands to the ground. He feels for the guy's footsteps; a little easier to find because he seems to be running at this point. Artie dives under a building just as a pair of cats jump into the barrel he is hiding in. He cuts across the path and, because of his haste, pops up beside the trashcan he intended to cut the bottom out of and hide in. With little time to waste, he flips the trashcan over, empties it out, and puts it on top of him. Instant disguise!
You know… sort-of.
He barely has time to get his bearings and feel for his next move before he hears the distinct pitter-patter of paws on the top of his can. Damn, those things are fast! And people think cats are lazy. Fuck that noise, cats will chase you to the ends of the earth if they think you're delicious enough.
Fingers to the floor, and… shit. Guy is booking it. At this rate, there is no way Artie will be able to keep pace with him unless he dispenses with burrowing.
Well, alright then. Burrowing dispensed with.
With a couple of quick strikes, Artie manages to pierce a couple of eyeholes in his makeshift cat-shield. "Alright, cats and kittens," he says. "If you want to take a ride with me, you better sink those claws in deep. I brake for nobody."
The cats don't say much in response.
That is, until he takes off, and his ears are greeted by the beautiful sound of screeching and flailing felines.
Well, they can't say he didn't warn them…
Finn Hudson is about as subtle as a gassy buffalo bear.
"So," he says, sliding up beside Mercedes, who, for lack of better things to do, is reading the posters for upcoming shows plastered on the walls of Groban Theater. "Ummm… she's nice, don't you think?"
Mercedes turns to give him a pair of the most skeptical eyes she has. "Say what now?"
"Rachel," Finn says, grinning. "She's kind of… nice, don't you think?"
"'Nice,'" Mercedes says carefully, "is not really the word I would use."
"But she's not, like, not nice," Finn says. "I mean, she's not like, evil or mean or anything is she?"
"No," Mercedes says with a shrug. "She's just pushy and bossy and overbearing and commanding, sticking her nose into everybody's business."
"Yeah!" Finn says excitedly. "So you like her too, don't you?"
Her face just keeps scrunching up in confusion. At this rate, she'll look like an old woman by the end of the night. "What in the Hills makes you think that means I like her?"
Finn's smile is unflappable. "Well, I mean, you should like her, because she's, like, like you…"
"Excuse me?" Mercedes says, turning towards him, hands-on-hips affronted.
Finn looks a little nervous, but bless him, the boy keeps right on talking. "All of those things you said about her… I mean, you should like her, right? Because you're all of those things too, and—"
"Oh, no," Mercedes says dangerously, stepping towards him. "You did not just go there."
"B-but you are! I mean, I thought…" Finn says backing away from her, towards the theater doors.
"Well you better stop thinking," she interjects, continuing to stalk towards him, "before you hurt yourself…"
"I, uhhh, I…" Finn stammers, his mind having difficulty conjuring up excuses because it's too busy walking backwards while trying to think of what might be said at his funeral. 'Finn Hudson… he was really tall, kind of handsome, and a pretty nice guy except when he was being a douche. He will be missed by some.'
Meanwhile, Kurt surreptitiously sidles up to Blaine, who is running his fingers along the stonework on the theater's exterior. "You okay?" he asks.
Blaine snaps to attention. "Yeah, yeah. I'm alright," he says, with a soft smile. It's weak, but genuine. "So, uhhh… what do you think of her?" he asks, somewhat shyly, blushing slightly.
Kurt cannot believe what he is hearing. Was that a… smitten tone that Blaine just used? Oh, no, no, no, no, no. Blaine cannot possibly like that shrieking dodo. This will not do. Kurt needs to put a stop to this, right now, and fortunately, Blaine has just given him the perfect opening. "Well, I think she is loud, obnoxious, pushy, delusional, self-obsessed, and a few eggs short of a nest, if you know what I mean," he says imperiously.
Blaine gapes at him, mouth open, eyes devastated. "You…you think my mom is… is…?"
Kurt's eyes nearly burst from sheer embarrassment and mortification. "Oh, no, no!" he says, horrified. "No, Bl—I mean… no. Your mother sounds wonderful," he quickly corrects, putting a gentle hand on Blaine's arm.
He seems just a little less upset now, and Kurt feels like kicking himself for being such a jerk. "Oh," Blaine sighs. "I'm glad," he says, offering Kurt an even weaker smile (Kurt, you drunken gorilla goat! Stop hurting your not-boyfriend's feelings!). "So… wait. Then, who were you talking about just now?" Blaine asks.
Kurt gapes at him for a couple of seconds. Really? Really? "Really?" he asks, out loud, completely by accident. "I mean… ummm…"
At that exact moment, the doors to the theater fly open, and Kurt has never been more thankful for an interruption in his life. Apparently, neither has Finn, who suddenly sprints past the bored, somewhat put-out-looking young man who stands in the entryway, nearly knocking him over in his desperate dash to get indoors.
The man glares after Finn for a few moments, before turning his attention to more important people. "Councilor and company?" he asks tiredly.
"Present!" Kurt chirps merrily.
The man gestures to the doorway, speaking in monotone. "Welcome to the illustrious Groban Theater, historical centerpiece of Sho Fa and indeed the entire art world. I will be your guide to the many wonders…" he trails off. "Blah, blah, blah, whatever. I'm supposed to be asleep right now, because we normally only do these tours in the evening hours before a show starts. But someone has made a special request on your behalf. A very loud request. And since that someone happens to know several things that could get me fired… just follow me, would ya?"
Affronted doesn't even begin to describe it. Kurt feels outright outraged. How dare this little twerp speak to someone in such an illustrious fake position as himself? "Well, I nev—" he starts, only to realize that the guy is already walking away from them, and Blaine is trailing along after him. With his eager attitude and tendency to run after pretty much anything that moves, Kurt is seriously contemplating a leash for the errant prince by the time he gets indoors.
The lobby of the theater is, he must admit, a fairly stunning sight. It's an incredibly expansive room, wide with high ceilings and huge, impressive columns with very intricate stonework. They must have hired an earthbender to—actually, now that he thinks about it, Avatar Groban probably did this section himself. It does seem to feature him in a number of heroic roles; slaying dragons, climbing on top of giants, sailing the stormy seas, saving armfuls of orphans from a burning building… and of course, in the middle of the lobby, the full statue of the Avatar himself, Groban standing proudly in the midst of his creation, greeting all who enter into his sacred hall.
Mercedes flounces in right behind Kurt. Finn is already in the room, and seems to be trying to take cover behind the tour guide (which would be considerably easier were Finn not both taller and broader than the droning, miserable fellow). The tour guide is narrating in a speech he has obviously heard several times too many and could probably say in his sleep. "These magnificent stone monuments to his favorite roles were carved from pure marble by Avatar Groban himself during his construction of this theater over three hundred years ago. The carvings remain pristine and distinct to this very day, almost as if preserved supernaturally." He yawns. "Marvel at the intricacy."
Blaine does. The wonder he projects as he turns to look at the incredible stonework is almost too much to bear. How Blaine is so child-like, yet so mature, so wounded, yet so eager to open himself to others, is a mystery Kurt hopes to have plenty of time to solve.
"Okay, enough marveling," the tour guide deadpans. "This way, please," he says, ushering them into the theater proper (with Finn matching him step-for-step).
Mercedes walks beside Kurt as they head towards the theater entrance, but just as Blaine is about to pass through the doorway, something catches his eye, and he breaks away from the group. "What…" he breathes, staring up at a large, framed portrait on the wall. A man and a woman, clearly very much in-love, stand in the lobby. The woman stands just in front of the man, who has his arms wrapped around her waist, and his chin hooked over her shoulder, grinning from ear to ear as she regards him with a fond smile. "Who is…"
He doesn't seem capable of saying much more, but fortunately, the tour guide is far too annoyed with the world to notice how emotional Blaine is. "That is a portrait of Fire Lord Anderson with his beautiful wife, Fire Lady Linda. The two of them met decades ago in this very theater, yada yada, love at first sight—look, all this stuff is coming up, okay? I hate repeating myself, so please, just come on."
Kurt wants to deck him.
But Blaine just nods, tearing his eyes off the portrait with great effort and moving back into position.
"Poor boy," Mercedes says. "This can't be easy for him."
"Well, Mr. Sunshine and Fruit Pies here isn't exactly doing much to make it easy," Kurt points out haughtily.
"He doesn't know who he's talking to," Mercedes says. "That's a good thing, remember?"
Kurt sighs. "You're right, you're right." As they head into the auditorium, he takes another look around the amazing architecture of the lobby. "I wonder where Artie is," he says softly. "I'm sure he'd appreciate the detail in this place."
Mercedes shrugs. "I wouldn't fret on his account too much. I'm sure he's having plenty of fun, wherever he is."
"OUT OF THE WAY!" Artie shouts, to very little avail. There is simply too much of everyone everywhere for them to part like the river before a waterbender. All he can do is try to take out as few people as possible—and to hit the healthy-looking middle-aged folks as opposed to the young'uns and elders. He does a fairly admirable job—bearded fat guy—"EXCUSE ME!"—for the most part, even though—lady in a super-bright pink dress—"SORRY ABOUT THAT!"—it can be kind of hard to tell from a distance—another bearded man—"COMING THROUGH!"—wait, no, that was a bearded lady—"SORRY, MISS!"—exactly who everyone is, because they're all dressed so weirdly—man juggling turduckens—"DUCK AND COVER!"—and so widespread.
Prancy-pants has taken to the rooftops, jumping like some kind of freakish human cricket. If Artie was pretty sure before, he is doubly sure now—this guy is an airbender, no doubt about it, even if he isn't the same one from Fenghuang. He seems vaguely aware that something is following him, but as far as he can tell, he hasn't pinpointed Artie himself yet.
It could be that the small platoon of cats trailing after him is makes for a much more visible spectacle than a moving, overturned trashcan.
Everywhere he goes, he can hear the sounds of feline carnage behind him. Screeches and cries, loud, panicked shouts of civilians who suddenly have kitty claws latched into their expensive clothing, unfortunate toupee wearers who find their rugs knocked out of place by cats leaping onto their heads. He's pretty sure he can hear the faint sounds of a turducken vs. tabby melee, with plenty of squawking and screeching and fluttering and hissing to go around. He does not want to be caught in the middle of that fight.
The guy turns, suddenly, and Artie tries to follow suit, only to slide side-long into a wall and daze himself for a second. There are, of course, downsides to handling like you have wheels—banking like you have wheels, for instance. Nonetheless, he recovers quickly and blasts onward, just in time to avoid a small wave of cats coming at him.
Well, not just in time. One manages to latch onto the front of the trashcan and is currently holding on for dear life, making discontented meowing sounds even as it refuses to let go.
"Get off!" Artie shouts.
The cat meows.
"This ain't no passenger vehicle!" he says again, navigating through a few corridors and across a small, fenced-in courtyard between several buildings, dodging around a bird bath, and nearly ramping off a large tree root that he doesn't see until he's almost on top of it.
He can just barely see the guy ahead of him, so he picks up the pace in an effort to catch up.
It occurs to him at this point to wonder; what, exactly, does he plan to do if and when he actually catches this fool? Not to mention why he is putting so much effort into chasing him. Really, at this point, it might be wiser to cut his losses and try to find him later, because any chance of sneaking up on him and learning his super secret airbender plans is pretty much out the window by now.
Unfortunately for Artie, this proves a bad time for thinking such thinky thoughts, as his unwanted passenger chooses that moment to scoot up the side of the trashcan and put his furry belly right over Artie's eyeholes.
"BAD KITTY!" he shouts, trying to bring his slide to a halt (not as easy as you think!). "GET YOUR CAT-NIPPLES OUT OF MY FACE BEFORE YOU KILL US BOTH!"
With little recourse, Artie resorts to poking the cat in the belly with his fingers and trying to dislodge it by force. It doesn't fly off, but it does slide down just far enough to let Artie see out of his peephole again…
…just in time to see the guy he is chasing after standing right in front of him, ready to strike.
"Oh, shi—" is as far as he gets before the guy sweep-kicks towards Artie, sending a wave of air along the ground that hits him at just the right point to launch him, can and all, flipping end-over-end through the air before slamming into a wall. The can lands rightside-up, and Artie plops inside of it shortly thereafter, sinking in without even touching the rim.
Three points to the airbender, he thinks, and then, his vision is nothing but stars…
"Right this way, please," the tour guide sighs. The four of them wander into the darkened theater and are momentarily taken aback by the grandeur. Even in the dark, they can tell the place is incredibly grand simply by the way every sound seems to echo. The acoustics are absolutely stunning.
As they pass row after row of seats, the tour guide begins his narration again. "It was in this very theater that the Fire Lord Anderson met, and fell in love with the woman who would one day become his wife. The young Fire Prince Anderson was attending a performance Marcus Flintella's incredibly long epic, The Orochi Cycle, on behalf of his father. The Prince was known at the time for his handsome face, and the seemingly ever-present look of boredom and disdain that sat upon it. But on that historic night, everything changed…"
The guide trails off and stops around the fifth row. He gestures to a seat near the aisle. "This very seat is the same one that the future Fire Lord occupied on that fateful night. And today… it is your seat," he says, looking directly at Blaine.
Blaine gapes. "I… what? You want me to…"
"Sit down," the guy says, gesturing to the seat again.
Blaine looks at the seat somewhat nervously (it's just a chair), and slowly but surely approaches and lowers himself into it.
Kurt moves to sit beside him, but the tour guide's hand stops him (and Kurt is about this close from confiscating said hand as a penalty for his attitude problem). "Not you. Your seats are further back."
"I beg your pardon?" Kurt says dangerously.
The tour guide sighs. "Look. I'm just doing what I was told, okay? I can tell by the look on your face that you want this to be over as badly as I do, so the sooner you sit down where you're supposed to, the sooner we can all go home. Believe me—it'll be easier for everyone if you just sit where she told me to put you."
She. Kurt grits his teeth. He should have known she was behind this. "Fine," he grits, allowing himself to be ushered to the eighteenth row, and seated between Mercedes and Finn. When everyone is in place, the tour guide moves to stand in front of the stage. At this point, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a crumpled up sheet of paper, unfurling it in front of his face to read.
"Yes, it was in this very theater that the young Fire Lord's heart was first pierced by the swift, sure arrow of truest love. As he sat in that sacred chair, his beloved appeared, playing the role of Kushinada, singing in a voice more captivating and beautiful than any he had ever heard before. Her passionate and powerful performance so moved the young Prince that by the end of the song, those sitting near him claim that his eyes were filled with tears he could barely contain. Throughout the rest of the five hour performance, not once did the Prince return to his former expression of boredom." He pauses for a second, muttering something under his breath. Kurt is able to distinctly make out the words '…writes this crap?' before he takes a deep breath and continues. "And so it was that the Prince's heart was won with song. Thus it was—and perhaps it shall be once again. For music has the power to move the heaviest of hearts, and heal the deepest wounds. Let the power of music take you back to that day so long ago, so that you may feel as the Fire Lord felt…" At this, he looks ready to barf. "…and let love bloom once again."
And suddenly, the curtains slide apart, the hitherto unseen orchestra in the pit begins to play, and a single spotlight appears onstage to reveal…
"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," Kurt says, shaking his head in disgust.
"Is she for real?" Mercedes whispers.
"Shhhhh!" Finn shushes them, his eyes glued to the stage. "It's starting!"
And standing there in full 'white robes of sacrifice' costume and make-up, Rachel looks right at Blaine and begins to sing.
They totally should have buried her.
Artie is brought back to his senses by the feel of something cold, wet, and shockingly coarse nipping against his skin. He opens his eyes, and…
Cat.
Fucking cat.
The fucking cat is licking his face.
Artie glares at the creature. "I don't know how many lives you have left, but you've got about three seconds before I subtract one, you feel me?"
The cat's ears twitch, and it promptly leaps out of the can Artie is currently contained in and scurries off. He smiles at his effective effort at intimidation, but the smile drops when he hears footsteps coming and realizes the cat was not prompted to scat by Artie, but by tall, dark, and sneaky. The footsteps draw closer, and Artie adjusts his glasses, preparing for whatever he sees.
The guy peers into the trashcan, and sure enough, it's the same airbender from Fenghuang. And oh, goodie. From the look on his face, he seems to recognize Artie.
"You!" he says, glaring down into the can.
The earthbender gulps.
Well, he doesn't really have a whole lot of options here, so he decides to go with his time-tested 'I'm fucked' strategy and see where it takes him.
Thus, he stares up at the hooded airbender, and plasters on his best shit-eating grin.
"What up?"
TO BE CONTINUED
A/N: Coming up next—At Groban Theater, the power of music is duly demonstrated. Songs are sung and love blooms in the Fire Nation! Meanwhile, Artie does NOT sing 'Totally Fucked' from Spring Awakening, but you know he would if he could. It fits! :D
A review or a comment is always appreciated. ^_^