Title: The Ember Island Players
Word Count: 443
Rating: K
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters herein contained. I only own the text.
So...written while watching the episode, The Ember Island Players. Kind of meant to be a companion piece to the episode, sort of. Anyway, recently finally finished the series. Fell back in love with it, actually. Seriously. Wondered where to publish this, considering Unlikely is meant to be for unrequited ZukoAang, but I guess I'll just have to change it. Anyway, enjoy.
The night they see the play starts out dismally. Aang is sure that Fate herself is laughing at him. He cannot sit next to Katara—though he thinks Zuko has done this on purpose, the spark in his eye daring the Avatar to say he likes Katara better than Zuko. Then, he turns out to be played by a woman—Zuko struggles not to chuckle next to him, but he can feel the boy shaking softly—which only worsens his mood. He scowls even more deeply as Toph laughs and tells him how accurate the portrayal is, slumping over the railing. He feels slightly better as he feels Zuko's warm hand on his thigh, lending comfort.
The play, however, is quickly revealed to be a complete mockery of their lives. The only point of amusement is when the blue spirit shows up, defeating Zuko. He shoots a disgusted look at Zuko, but it morphs into a grin at the sheer inaccuracy. Zuko winks at him, then turns his attention back to the play.
After the intermission, it gets slightly better with the introduction of Toph, but quickly deteriorates again. Zuko's hand finds his thigh again, but it doesn't help very much. Aang sighs as the play casts shadows on his uncertainty about his feelings for Katara. Zuko moves away from him then, scowling. Though he and Zuko had been kissing for a couple of weeks, ever since their excursion to the Sun Warriors, Aang still wasn't sure whether he liked Zuko or Katara better, or whether how he felt about them was even comparable. He storms out, confused.
He isn't sure whether he's relieved when Katara is the one who comes after him, isn't sure whether he's angry about what happened in the play because of Katara or Zuko. But most of all, he isn't sure whether he prefers Zuko's hot, dry lips or Katara's cool, soft ones. He doesn't watch very much of the rest of the play, choosing instead to think and listen the others laugh and groan. The death of Zuko surprises him, but not as much as his own. He sighs, the anxiety about defeating the firelord multiplied a hundredfold as he watches the triumph of Ozai onstage. They leave the theater somberly, all caught up in their own thoughts. Zuko is being mysterious again, brooding.
"That…wasn't a good play," he says disgustedly.
"Tell me about it," Aang mutters. Confused? What does confused mean? He thinks. Katara stays behind him, Zuko in front. It's only a few steps either way, but he can't decide which way. When Zuko kisses him right before bed, he still can't choose.