Post by Pleading Eyes on Apr 28, 2008 16:46:40 GMT -5
Can also be read at fanfiction.net here: www.fanfiction.net/s/4225170/1/Flight_of_the_Roc
Alright, so, I've held off on writing an Avatar fanfiction, simply because I tend to rush fanfics, and I hate how lousy my writing comes out when I rush it.
But I've had this idea kicking around in my head ever since I saw "The Beach". (Actually, I figure it's the only good thing I got out of the episode. >_<)
So, here it is.
Yes, it's a Ty Lee centric fic, focusing on her childhood, her sisters, her friendship with Mai and Azula, her time in the circus, and how she grew into the girl we see in the show.
A Roc is a giant mythological bird, so it fits, I guess. Or at least it will later, I promise.
So here it is, in all its terribly rushed glory. Enjoy... or not.
COME BACK, TY LEE! TT_TT
Chapter 1: All In The Family
I stand outside the door to her room, clutching the scroll tightly to my chest. I’m trying not to cry, to stay strong, to stay optimistic. This is going to hurt her, terribly. I don’t want to see her suffer, but she has every right to know. After all, the note was intended for her. It is my eyes that are prying.
True, it was accidental. I came into the room, excitedly announcing our victory over the invading forces, meaning to convince a certain brooding prince and my dear, apathetic friend to join me in celebration. Any excuse to see them smile, really.
Imagine my surprise when I found the room empty, save a lonely looking scroll, tied caringly with a pretty little tie, resting on the bed.
I thought it might’ve been intended for me, or for Azula, asking us not to disturb them. Oh Mai, I’m so sorry! I didn’t know it was private, didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to read it!
But I did read it, no use in pretending I didn’t. Especially now that I know what it says. She’s going to pretend she doesn’t care, shrug it off, yawn maybe. But I know her. It’s going to hurt, Mai. But it’s alright. I’m here Mai, I’ve always been here.
So I take a deep breath and force a comforting smile up to my lips, as I raise my hand and with trepidation knock on her door, inwardly a part of me prays she never answers.
“Never let ‘em see you cry, Pinkie.”
My first memory of my childhood isn’t very special at all. We’re sitting still, all of us, as a court painter finishes our family portrait. Father is to the left, standing beside Mother who sits on a finely crafted settee; she is too burdened with child to stand. In her arms she carries my younger sister Suyin. She’s sleeping, of course, she’s just a baby. I look over jealously. I wish I could just fall asleep; sitting still for a portrait is so boring.
I look over to my right, where my sisters Peijing and Baozhai are standing, looking jealously at me for being allowed to sit.
That’s right; I’m in Ai-Ling’s lap. I look up at her face, and she looks back down at me sweetly, sympathetically.
“Just a little longer, Ty Lee.” She whispers, her pretty painted lips smiling in that comforting, understanding way that only Ai-Ling can. She is so beautiful. I wish I was old enough to paint my lips like her. I wonder, if I did, would my smiles be as graceful as hers?
The painter clears his throat loudly, and it takes me a moment to realize he’s directing it at me. I stop staring at Ai-Ling and face forward. The painter returns to his work.
It’s really not fair, keeping a three year old like me sitting still so long. I fidget uncomfortably and feel, rather than hear, Ai-Ling laugh quietly behind me.
“Be still, little one.” She whispers into my ear. “I promise, after this, I’ll teach you a new game.”
I sit still immediately. Ai-Ling always knows the best games. So I smile big and wait anxiously for the painter to finish the portrait. I just hope we’re not all old by the time he finishes, then he’ll have to start all over.
Suyin starts crying. Mother is overwhelmed, trying to keep her quiet. Suyin won’t relent, crying louder and louder. Mother is flustered. Father raises his voice, saying he’s paying for our time with the court artist, we shouldn’t waste it. Peijing and Baozhai are whispering to each other, giggling. How they could find the situation amusing, I don’t understand to this day.
I feel Ai-Ling’s delicate hands on my waist as she gingerly slides me off her lap and onto my feet. Her graceful footsteps make no sound as she goes to mother’s side and takes the child from her arms.
Almost immediately, Suyin stills.
This memory is vivid and alive in my mind. Even then, at that moment, I remember I knew… I knew this was the way I would always think of my family.
And even then, so early on, I wanted out.
My sister Ai-Ling could be described in three words; loving, compassionate, and understanding. She was thirteen years old in my earliest memory of her, eight years older than Peijing. I suppose our parents had originally only intended to have one daughter, but then for whatever reason, years later, decided they wanted another heir. Then Peijing, Baozhai, and I had been born, one right after the other. Peijing was five in my earliest memory of her, Baozhai four, and myself three. Then there was the new baby, Suyin. Barely a year out of Mother’s womb, and already Mother was with child again.
How curious, that after originally only wanting one daughter, our parents had turned around completely and had so many children. I wondered, sometimes, if perhaps they were trying for a boy and had just never succeeded, my sisters and I were only the result of failed attempts.
It made sense, then, why my memories of my parents are so few. They were almost always away at a conference or festivity.
To be honest, all my memories of being cared for as a child are of Ai-Ling.
Ai-Ling seemed so tall back then, towering over little me. But she was never an imposing figure. She was too graceful, too sweet, too patient to be anything but a comfort. Suyin apparently thought so too, because the only way I remember baby Suyin was either bawling her eyes out, or contently resting in Ai-Ling’s arms.
I remember, only a few days after the disastrous portrait event, waking up to the smell of freshly fried rice cakes. I hoped out of bed, called out to the servants to hurry and come dress me, all the while trying to hold off the temptation to just run down to the kitchen and steal a plate full. The tantalizing smell kept beckoning me as the servants finished with my attire and started on my hair. They barely finished the braid before I was dashing out of the room.
Peijing and Baozhai were already at the table, chatting away about their secret little plans for the day. I hurried to take a seat beside them, kneeling so as to be tall enough to look over their heads and at the servants coming in with our breakfast.
“Settle down, Ty Lee.” Peijing said, smirking in that mocking way of hers. “The food’s not going anywhere.”
“I swear, it’s like you were raised on a farm.” chimed in Baozhai, ever unoriginal.
“I hungy.” I replied in my infant tongue.
“You’d think she was starving.” Peijing said, rolling her eyes and returning to her private conversation with Baozhai.
As we were served our plates of a variety of flavored rice cakes, still steaming hot, I looked down at my lap in embarrassment. Those two had a real knack for making me feel ridiculous. I hadn’t meant to look so desperate. I was just excited for the food.
I could feel the tears welling in my eyes, the sight of my rice cakes blurring, and I tried with all my strength to suppress a sob. But all my strength was not enough, and a sniffle escaped, unbidden.
“Great, now she’s crying.” Baozhai said in exasperation, throwing her hands in the air.
“You’re so overdramatic.” Peijing said, finishing a rice cake before pushing her plate forward and excusing herself. Baozhai followed suit, leaving me at the table, alone, crying into my breakfast, my appetite evaporated.
You know, I always thought it was funny the way time passes when you’re a child. The happy moments, fun moments, seem to last only a matter of minutes. While the dull, painful, or angry times seem to last forever. I couldn’t have possible sat alone at the breakfast table for long, but it seemed to me that hours passed.
I tried to stop my tears, tried to put myself together, but the more I tried the harder the tears pushed themselves out of my eyes, dripping down to the now soggy rice cakes on my plate. I couldn’t help it, I just felt so pathetic, and the more I cried the more pathetic I felt, so I cried some more. I didn’t see any way out of it, so I surrendered to my crying fit and let myself weep softly, hushed. I was going to be crying forever, wasn’t I?
“Ty Lee?” The soft, concerned sound of Ai-Ling’s voice behind me snapped me out of my spell of self-pity. I raised my head to face her, standing in the dining room doorway, Suyin happily pulling at her hair.
That’s another thing I remember; Ai-Ling’s hair. It was that same unusually light brown shade that mine was, and yet hers always seemed so much lovelier. The way she wore it, most of her hair cascading down freely, with a little off the top tied up into a long tail, made her look the part of a princess in my eyes. I had tried to replicate the style, but I could never get it quite right. My hair just wasn’t long enough, or silky enough, or as cooperative.
“Ty Lee, what’s wrong?” Ai-Ling said as she came over and knelt beside me.
“I-I-I…” I wiped my eyes with the back of my fist, trying to stifle my sobs long enough to explain to her what had happened. But the words wouldn’t come, and all I managed to choke out was, “I hungy…”
Ai-Ling brought up one of her nimble, long-fingered hands to brush my bangs out of my eyes and cooed, “Shh, it’s alright. We have plenty of food here.”
I wailed in frustration, unable to explain what it was that was bothering me. “But I not hungy anymo-o-o-re!” I covered my face with my hands, letting myself wail loudly, not caring if anyone heard me or how pathetic I looked. At that moment the situation seemed irreparable to me.
“Ty Lee…” Ai-Ling said, gently massaging my scalp with her free hand, “I think I know how to help that.” I quieted down and slowed my sobbing, peeking through my fingers and tears to look at her. Ai-Ling stood, taking my plate in her free hand, and gestured with her head for me to follow. “It’s probably just because these are cold. I’ll warm them up for you and you’ll see, your appetite will be back with a vengeance.”
I sniffled a few more times and then stood, mesmerized as I followed Ai-Ling into the kitchen. I was astounded by her remedy. Sure, the rice cakes hadn’t been the real problem, but even being unable to decipher the real problem from my childish squeals, she had still found a solution. Ai-Ling was just so smart and so confidant!
“Ty Lee, can you help me? I have one of my hands full with Suyin.” Even as she said it, Suyin tugged at Ai-Ling’s bangs, giggling gleefully.
I nodded enthusiastically, what an honor it was to have Ai-Ling asking for my help! I quickly went through the cupboards and fetched the things Ai-Ling asked me for. I watched with wonder as she dropped a dollop of fat onto a pan and let it melt, then tossed my soggy rice cakes over it.
“Ai-Ling, why don’t ask the cooks?” I asked, standing on my tiptoes, straining to watch her every move.
“We could ask them,” she said casually, re-frying the rice cakes with one hand and bouncing Suyin with the other arm, “but sometimes it’s good to try things out for ourselves. That’s how we learn.” She finished and poured the crispy again rice cakes onto my plate. Piping hot, they were emitting that irresistible aroma again. And what do you know? I felt my tummy rumble!
“There you go, sweetie.” She said, placing the plate in my eager hands. “Anything else?”
“Uh-uh!” I shook my head, turning on my heel and happily hurrying back to the table to eat.
After breakfast, I wandered into the main room, where Peijing was showing off her newest obsession to Baozhai. Peijing was the only one of us attending school at the moment—Baozhai and I still being too young—and so she delighted in showing off all the little trinkets she would trade or buy from her school friends. This week it seemed to be a collection of intricately designed hand-painted hairpins.
“And this one’s carved from a real Camelephant tusk, and embedded with finest jade.” Peijing prattled on, sounding bored, as if she had much nicer things to show.
“Wow!” Baozhai gasped, reaching for the pretty hairpin, which Peijing pointedly kept away from her grasp. “Oh please, just let me see it!”
“See with your eyes, not with your hands.” Peijing teased. “These are one-of-a-kind, you know. Hand crafted. They were really hard to collect, even for me.”
“Can I have one? Just one! Oh please, please, please? They’re so pretty, just like you, Peijing!” Baozhai begged, appealing to Peijing’s vanity, which was probably the reaction she had been waiting for.
“Alright. But only one, Baozhai!”
Baozhai put a finger to her mouth as she scanned over her options, splayed out on the floor. “Umm…” She turned the hairpins in her hands before finally settling on a pretty red and gold one. “This one will match my dress!” Which it would, because we all wore red. Every single one of us, in the same crimson and scarlet attire. Sometimes I was scared I would wake up one morning and not know which one of us I was.
“Alright, I guess.” Peijing shrugged. “If you really want that one.”
Baozhai clapped and took the hairpin, placing it in her hair. It didn’t look quite right with the style she wore her hair in. It was a single braid, similar to mine, but tied at the bottom of her head rather than the top. The hairpin looked a bit silly stuck into a braid that it wasn’t held up anywhere. It probably would’ve complimented Peijing a lot better, since she wore most of her hair down like Ai-Ling with a little off the top in a top-knot. But in spite of that, Baozhai was so happy with her precious hairpin.
I wanted to be happy too, and those pins were so pretty! I walked up to Peijing and put on my best smile. “I play too, Peijing?”
Peijing scowled, turning her back to me. “No, Ty Lee. You’re too little. You’ll just break them.”
“Please?” I employed Baozhai’s pleading. “Please pity sistah?” I had meant to say pretty, but my infant tongue had skipped over an R, as it often did back then.
“What did you call me?” Peijing stood up and whirled on me, stomping her foot into the floor in annoyance. “Did you just call me pitiful!?”
“Yes?” I said nervously, unaware of what I had done to upset her. “You so pitiful, Peijing.”
“I think she means prettyful.” Baozhai said quietly, still sitting.
“You stay out of this!” Peijing snapped. Baozhai averted her eyes and said nothing else.
“I just want play wit you.” I sniffled, tears welling in my eyes again.
“No one asked you to play with us, Ty Lee. Go bother Ai-Ling! See how long she puts up with you.” Peijing said nastily, sitting down and turning back to her hairpins.
Before I could help it, I was crying again. “You so mean!” I yelled, stomping my foot in imitation of Peijing’s outburst. “You so mean—telling Ai-Ling!”
“Go ahead, she’s not mom. What’s she going to do?” Peijing scoffed.
With a loud wail I turned to run out of the room, but my vision was blurred by my tears. Not watching where I was going, I stumbled on my own feet, and fell backwards. All I remember was a loud crack, a crunching sensation in my lower back, and Peijing’s shrill scream of protest.
“Ow…” I sat up, rubbing my head and back. I turned around to see what I had landed on, and my eyes widened in panic—the precious hairpins lay in pieces where I had fallen.
“My HAIRPINS!” Peijing shrieked furiously. “You lousy klutz!”
“I sowy.” I cried, scrambling to my feet. “I fell...”
“Just get out of here!” She screamed, rising to her feet and pushing me away. “Get out before you break something else, you clumsy hogmonkey!”
I ran out of the room in tears, straight outside into our garden; the one place I could think of where there was nothing I could break. Nothing the clumsy hogmonkey could break.
Again, time seemed to drag on forever. I cried at the base of our big blossom tree, ruing my existence the way only a child can. I couldn’t get Peijing’s words out of my mind. All I could think about was how dumb I was. I had probably cost Baozhai her hairpin too; no doubt since it was the only one intact, Peijing would take it back. So now Baozhai would hate me too! I wiped my eyes on my sleeve, feeling so alone and unwanted, and all over a few dumb hairpins.
It wasn’t until I felt a gentle hand on my head that I realized I wasn’t alone at all.
Ai-Ling put Suyin down gently on the grass. Suyin, luckily, busied herself with yanking at the blades of grass and was too distracted to complain. I turned around and threw myself into Ai-Ling’s arms, where she held me.
“Now don’t tell me you’re hungry again already?” She joked good-naturedly.
“No…” I sniffled, “clumsy…” I choked on my own words and rubbed my face against the smooth fabric of her dress.
“You? Clumsy?” Ai-Ling pulled me back to look me in the face, tear-stained as it must’ve been. “Whatever gave you that idea?”
“I fell.” I bit my lip, willing myself not to start crying again, not in front of Ai-Ling.
“But sweetheart, we all fall down sometimes.” She pulled a handkerchief out of her sleeve and wiped my face gently.
“You don’t.” I hadn’t even heard her approach. It was like she hovered over the ground.
“I used to. But Ty Lee, just like with everything else, grace is something you have to work at.” She tipped my chin up to meet my eyes, staring into me with a sincerity I have never seen matched. “Anything worth doing in life takes practice and dedication. It isn’t always easy, but when you work hard you’ll certainly achieve your dream.”
I stared back at her full, grey eyes, twinkling with so much knowledge which seemed otherworldly to me at the time. I reached forward to touch her cheek, as if that would somehow pass this wisdom onto me.
Suyin screamed, her little fists waving in the air, complaining about being left for too long. Ai-Ling sighed, giving my hand a squeeze, and then moved over to Suyin, scooping her up in her arms. I watched with admiration, the way she seemed to glide over the field and back into the house.
I think that was the day I decided I would work extra hard to be as graceful as Ai-Ling. Everyday, after breakfast, I would go out to the garden and try all sorts of silly things like keeping balance on one foot, or standing on my hands. Soon enough, it became second nature to me. I guess I was a natural, I just hadn’t known it.
I was four the first time I saw Ai-Ling arguing with my parents. I remember the babies’ cries most clearly. Not only Suyin, clinging to Ai-Ling as if for dear life, but also the twins in their crib; Jia and Jiao. Just my parents’ luck; twins, and both girls.
I was in the next room, peeking into the main room where my parents and Ai-Ling were arguing. I had never seen Ai-Ling raise her voice before. It didn’t suit her. She was always so nice and lady like, it felt almost like watching another person with her face.
And to think this was all my fault.
Earlier that day I had been so bored. With Baozhai now old enough, she and Peijing would both spend most of their days at school. Suyin was barely two. Sure, she was cute, but she wasn’t exactly old enough to teach any games to. She spent all of her time behind Ai-Ling anyway.
Ai-Ling couldn’t play with me either. With Suyin, and now the twins to take care of too, she had her hands full. I asked her once why she didn’t just let the servants take care of the babies. Ai-Ling had replied because we were family and she wouldn’t trust anyone to take care of her precious baby sisters but family. I guess when I think about it, it makes sense. I love Ai-Ling, and I would’ve hated to have servants raising me instead of her. They couldn’t have possibly had the patience with me that she did, or taught me all the fun games or interesting rhymes that she did.
Without anyone to play with, I spent the whole morning doing handstands and cartwheels. It was fun for a little while, but I did it so often that it wasn’t really a game anymore. It was too easy. So I spent most of the afternoon moping around the house, sighing and sticking my tongue out at Suyin whenever she came into the room to see what I was doing.
It was dreadful. I had grown so used to having Baozhai around. Sure, Baozhai wouldn’t play with me when Peijing was around, but whenever Peijing was at school, Baozhai and I had fun together.
I lay down on the couch, staring at the ceiling with a long-suffering sigh, before falling asleep for the majority of the boring afternoon. It had been Ai-Ling who woke me later, smiling sympathetically and ushering me up.
“Let’s go do something fun, just you and me.” She said brightly. “We can leave the twins with the servants for just a couple hours.”
I jumped at the chance! To be able to have a fun day out, just with Ai-Ling? Even Peijing would be jealous! My boredom forgotten, I dashed to the door, urging Ai-Ling to hurry up; there was no time to waste! I could see it already, just the two of us, talking and laughing, doing girl stuff, and no babies to distract Ai-Ling. It would just be me she paid attention to, I’d be special. I could hardly contain my glee!
That is, until Suyin bungled into the room, whining to come too.
“No way.” I scoffed, annoyed with the delay from Ai-Ling and my perfect day. “She’s too little. She’ll just slow us down and get in the way. And then she’ll get tired and want to come home!”
Little Suyin’s squishy baby face crumpled and she grabbed onto Ai-Ling’s skirt, pulling at it as she cried, “No!” Suyin didn’t know many words yet, but that was by far her favorite. “No, no, no! Ali! Ali!”
“It’s Ai-Ling, not Ali.” I corrected. The least she could do was learn our older sister’s name.
“Ali, Ali! No go!” She cried, still tugging at Ai-Ling’s dress. I almost felt sorry for her. But if Ai-Ling had said it was only going to be the two of us, Suyin would just have to accept that.
“Shh, alright Suyin, it’s alright.” Ai-Ling cooed tenderly, taking Suyin up in her arms to calm her. “I suppose you can join our little excursion.”
“But Ai-Ling,” I protested, glaring at Suyin; the little minxweasel, “you said it would just be the two of us. You said!”
“I know, Ty Lee. But how can we just leave Suyin here? She’s as much my sister as you are.”
“But she’s just a baby.” I pouted; the unfairness of it all was just too much to bear. After such a dreadful day, I finally got promised an outing with Ai-Ling, and then Suyin had to come and ruin it.
“Oh, and you’re not?” Ai-Ling said, amusement tinkling in her voice.
“No, I’m not. Not anymore.” I said proudly, standing tall for Ai-Ling to see.
“You right, you’re not. And that’s precisely why you should do the mature thing and let baby Suyin come.” Ai-Ling concluded.
It was hard to argue with that logic. It was hard to argue with Ai-Ling at all. Still pouting, I grudgingly opened the door for Ai-Ling as she carried Suyin out with her. I tried not to grumble out loud, maybe there would be another time. Suyin wouldn’t be a baby forever, after all. Maybe when she was my age, then Ai-Ling would ask her to do the mature thing and not intrude on our special sister outings.
Ai-Ling had wanted to take me out shopping. Dresses, jewelry, maybe even have our hair done. But she couldn’t carry a lot of packages with Suyin in her arms, plus Suyin tired easily and hours of shopping would make her cranky. Instead we just went for a short walk around the local shops, barely stopping long enough to browse through all the things we couldn’t buy now. Thanks a lot, Suyin.
My disappointment must’ve shown on my face because Ai-Ling pulled me aside and said she still had a surprise for me. I followed her through an alley, to a lower class section of the market place. Here there were mostly kiosks rather than shops, and the customers dressed in plainer, less adorned clothing. I had never been in such a place before and looked at Ai-Ling warily. Something told me we were not supposed to be here.
Sensing my apprehension, Ai-Ling took my hand. She led me through the many kiosks to a quaint little shop in the corner. I couldn’t read yet, so I couldn’t make out the sign, but I did notice that the words were faded. The paint was peeling from the walls, which were cracked and stained. It wasn’t the prettiest shop I had ever seen.
I held my breath as Ai-Ling opened the door and led me inside, fearing that the smell of the place would match its outward appearance. My lungs were small, however, and I was barely able to resist breathing for a few seconds before needing air. With a strong exhalation and a deep breath, I was pleasantly surprised to discover the familiar scent of rice cakes in the air, among other things. There was a sweetness I couldn’t quite make out wafting through the air. And inspecting the shop, I realized that despite its simplicity, it was clean and well-kept.
There was a wooden counter, simple and unpolished. Behind it stood a smiling man in simple brown attire who bid us welcome.
“Ty Lee, this is a special bakery.” Ai-Ling explained, pulling me towards the counter. “They make all sorts of special treats out of roots. It’s delicious, and very good for you.”
The man behind the counter, he seemed so tall but he couldn’t have been much older than Ai-Ling, leaned over to look down at me. “That’s right, little girl. My name’s Gen, welcome to my family’s bakery.” He looked up at Ai-Ling, his face reddening a bit. I tilted my head, hoping he wasn’t coming down with a fever. He seemed so nice… “And to what do I owe the pleasure? It isn’t often we receive guests of such high class.”
Ai-Ling released my hand to reach into the satchel tied around her waist, withdrawing a small bag of coins and placed it on the counter. As she spoke with Gen, I turned away and walked over to inspect the shelves on the walls. There were so many different rolls and dumplings of all sorts of colors. A particularly fluffy white roll caught my eye. It looked so soft and shiny, like it was made of cloud. Curiously I poked it with a finger. The roll made a small whooshing noise and deflated, losing its appeal. “Poof!” I replicated the noise, enchanted. “The roll went poof.” Captivated, I inspected the remaining shelves, touching and prodding anything that looked interesting, and giggling in delight. “Poof, poof, poof! Like a cloud, poof!”
“Ty Lee.” Ai-Ling’s voice called from the counter. I had almost forgotten where I was. Turning around and hiding my sticky hands behind my back, I gave my best innocent smile.
“Yes?”
“Come here and get your treat.” Ai-Ling said, apparently unaware of what I had been doing behind her back.
“Okay!” I skipped over, eager to see what surprise she had gotten me. I wiped my hands as best I could on my skirt and then held them out. Completely oblivious to my roll poofing rampage, Ai-Ling handed me a brown folded cloth, instructing me not to open it yet so it wouldn’t get cold. I could feel the warmth of the rolls inside and softly pressed my face against the cloth, feeling the warmth filter through to my cheeks. I giggled and smiled up at Ai-Ling, thanking her, barely able to resist the urge to unwrap the rolls and poof them.
Then, nodding her thanks as she said her goodbyes to Gen, Ai-Ling offered her hand to me and led me outside. As I took her hand and followed, I turned my head to catch one final glance of the friendly baker. He smiled and waved goodbye as he called out, “Hope you enjoy the show!” I waved back, even though I had no idea what he meant. I assumed maybe he meant to say “enjoy your treat” and just got mixed-up.
We left the shopping district and headed for a more secluded neighborhood. Ai-Ling, holding Suyin who had—as I predicted—fallen asleep in her arms, took me to a large, mostly vacant park on the outskirts of a giant building.
It was beautifully kept, the park grass perfectly groomed, the white marble of the building’s walls polished to shine like glass in the sun. In the shade beneath a large, old tree, Ai-Ling positioned a sleeping Suyin and sat beside her, calling my name. With some effort, I tore my eyes from the shimmering building and hurried to Ai-Ling’s side.
As we sat, enjoying the peace in such a beautiful day outdoors and the sweet taste of the rolls we had purchased, I asked Ai-Ling about the curious building before us.
“That, Ty Lee, is the Royal Fire Academy for Girls” she explained with a smile, a strangely distant look in her eyes. I couldn’t quite tell what it was that bothered me about her expression. It was almost like she was sad and yet wasn’t. Licking the remainder of sweet syrup from my roll off my fingers, I listened curiously as she continued. “It’s a very special school. Only the finest women in the whole Fire Nation get to go there.”
I blinked, looking at Ai-Ling and then turning to observe the building. Girls of all ages were beginning to shuffle out onto the courtyard.
“Did you go there Ai-Ling?” I asked, turning back to my sister, wondering just what her strange look had to do with this place.
“Yes. All women of our family must go, given our social standing.” I didn’t completely understand her answer, but as long as it meant I could someday go…
“Is that where Peijing and Baozhai go to?” I had always wondered what this school they were always going to and talking about was, what it looked like.
“Not quite. They go to its sister school, for younger children.” She gave me a proud smile and pat my head. “You’ll be starting next year too. Then when you turn nine, if your marks are good enough and your family is important enough, the boys and girls get sent to different academies until you’re about thirteen.”
“And this is the one the girls get sent to.” I said, putting this new information together as best as a child could.
“Exactly.”
I looked back over to the Academy, my eyes alight with anticipation. My marks would be good enough, I could do it. Someday I will go to this place, I told myself. I will go and I will be just like Ai-Ling.
As the last of the girls exiting the building scattered across the park, headed in their own directions despite their identical attire, I cast my gaze over every shimmering tile I could see, every thick, sturdy pillar, unmovable, untouchable. They would not bend, but neither would they break. I wondered for a moment, if it was possible to bend without being weak.
“Well, come along.” Ai-Ling said, picking Suyin up in her arms and standing up. I followed suit, brushing off my skirts, and took the hand Ai-Ling offered to me.
“Are we going home?” I asked, hoping I was wrong. I didn’t want the outing to end, not quite yet. Perhaps not ever. I wanted to keep walking, even if we said nothing, just to be next to Ai-Ling like this, following her footsteps, always.
“We have to.” She said, giving my hand a playful squeeze. “I need to get Suyin to bed. We want her well rested so she won’t be cranky during the show.”
“Show?” I echoed, remembering what that nice man at the bakery had said.
“Yes.” Ai-Ling replied simply, reaching into her bag to retrieve a slip of paper to show me, her face curiously flushed; ever so slightly. “I asked Gen to get them for me. Of course, I paid him for his trouble…”
She trailed off into her own thoughts as I took the paper from her hand and observed it. I couldn’t read yet, of course, and only stared at the colorful drawings in wonder.
“What is it?” I asked, having turned the paper every which way and still been unable to make any sense of it.
Ai-Ling jumped, as if surprised by my voice, lost amidst her own thoughts as she was. “Why, Ty Lee,” she exclaimed, bringing her free hand to her chest to calm herself, “they’re circus tickets, of course!”
And that was where the problem started. Ai-Ling had gotten circus tickets for all of us, except the twins since they were just babies. When we had come home, we waited for Peijing and Baozhai to arrive from school so we could tell them the good news. Baozhai took her ticket gratefully but Peijing, brat that she was, stormed over to tell mother and father.
Our parents were furious. A dirty commoner’s circus was no place for young ladies of such fine breeding! Ai-Ling protested, argued that the circus was for children, that we were children, and that we deserved to go.
They would not relent, and finally forbade Ai-Ling from taking us. Peijing had smirked at me triumphantly and although Baozhai stood beside her, Baozhai couldn’t hide the little frown of disappointment on her face.
However, while our parents forbade us going, they really did not take extra measures to stop us. As usual, they had meetings and gatherings of the court to attend, leaving us only with Ai-Ling and our servants.
Ai-Ling would not be deterred. She had always been a good girl, obedient, but every now and then small acts of defiance, usually unimportant enough to go by unnoticed, would bring us all a secret sort of delight. So that night, leaving Jia and Jiao with the servants, Ai-Ling took the four of us; Peijing, Boazhai, myself, and Suyin, to the circus. She instructed us to wear our less formal attire, seeing as this wasn’t our ordinary type of outing.
It’s strange, for an event that changed my life, I don’t remember much of it. It’s so hazy in my mind, only little things stick out. I remember going into a darker, browner, less decorated part of the city. I remember being shocked at seeing children my age, and older, running barefoot through the plain dirt roads. Even in our more casual attire, we must have stood out terribly amongst the worn and faded rags most people there wore.
I held tight to Ai-Ling’s hand the entire time, frightened by my unfamiliar surroundings. Ai-Ling held Suyin protectively, as Baozhai tightly gripped Ai-Ling’s dress on the side opposite me. Ever insubordinate, Peijing stood beside Baozhai and walked without so much as a glance in Ai-Ling’s direction, arms crossed in irritation at not getting her way. There was something to be said for Peijing’s bravery, even if that was the only quality of hers I admired.
But even my own fears evaporated as we took out seats and the show began. Lights, feathers, flashes of scarlet and gold everywhere, and shimmering showmen taking on the most unbelievable of feats, right before my very eyes!
Knife throwers, fire-dragon makers, and wild animal tamers of every kind! But the one figure that stood out of my mind was not a large and world-worn showman, but a small and lithe young woman, barely clothed at all. Her headdress shimmered in the light of the fire as she jumped across the entirety of the ring, right over my head! She was so beautiful, so fragile in appearance, and yet she smiled the entire time, never fearing she would fall. She bent and twirled and contorted every which way; in ways no human should be allowed to bend! And yet she was strong, so very strong and unafraid.
And free.
My eyes never left her, even as she moved aside to allow other acts to take center stage. In my mind there was no one else in that bright striped tent but the two of us. Even as she stood there, unmoving but for the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest; breathing, I put myself in her place, just for a moment. When the crowd around me thundered in applause—reminding me of their presence—I fancied it was me they were cheering for. It was me who had leapt into the air, eyes open, smile wide and unafraid.
As we left for home a couple hours later, Suyin yawning but playfully batting at the air face in delight, Ai-Ling asked us what we had thought of the performances.
Baozhai began to tell us of how she had enjoyed the fighting rabiroo the best, until Peijing interrupted; complaining about how low-class and disgusting the whole thing was. Baozhai nodded in agreement, adding that she didn’t even like the rabiroo that much either.
Ai-Ling’s smile faltered slightly. Peijing was always being mean like that. Nothing impressed her except shiny trinkets and pretty dresses. And it didn’t matter what Baozhai thought about anything, she’d always follow Peijing’s word blindly.
Ignoring Peijing’s mean outburst, and Baozhai’s stupid agreement, I lifted my chin and proudly declared that I had loved the show.
“Really?” Ai-Ling’s smile grew back, her eyes glittering thankfully. “What did you like best, Ty Lee?”
“The acrobat lady!” I said, excitement rising up in my stomach at the mere memory.
“Figures she would…” muttered Peijing to Baozhai, who giggled in reply.
I huffed, not caring what Peijing thought. “I’m going to do that too when I grow up.” I announced matter-of-factly.
“Do what, sweetie?” Ai-Ling asked.
“Fly.” I said, gesturing with my hand for emphasis.
“That’s stupid!” Peijing said suddenly, running in front of us so we stopped walking to face her. “People can’t fly Ty Lee!”
“The acrobat lady did!”
“No she didn’t!” Peijing insisted. “It was a trick! She can’t fly and neither can you!”
“Peijing!” Ai-Ling said sharply, warningly.
“What? It’s true! People can’t fly, not anymore than…” Peijing paused for a moment, looking around for something to make her point. Finding a small pebble on the ground, she kicked it to the side, watching as it briefly soared and then landed with a pathetic thud, “…not anymore than a rock!”
And with that, she crossed her arms and marched on ahead of us in a huff. Baozhai followed after Peijing, mimicking her movements.
We were close enough to home that Ai-Ling didn’t chase after them. Instead she just sighed patiently and cradled Suyin in her arms.
People can’t fly, not anymore than a rock!
And for whatever reason, those words stuck with me.
Alright, so, I've held off on writing an Avatar fanfiction, simply because I tend to rush fanfics, and I hate how lousy my writing comes out when I rush it.
But I've had this idea kicking around in my head ever since I saw "The Beach". (Actually, I figure it's the only good thing I got out of the episode. >_<)
So, here it is.
Yes, it's a Ty Lee centric fic, focusing on her childhood, her sisters, her friendship with Mai and Azula, her time in the circus, and how she grew into the girl we see in the show.
A Roc is a giant mythological bird, so it fits, I guess. Or at least it will later, I promise.
So here it is, in all its terribly rushed glory. Enjoy... or not.
COME BACK, TY LEE! TT_TT
Flight of the Roc
Chapter 1: All In The Family
I stand outside the door to her room, clutching the scroll tightly to my chest. I’m trying not to cry, to stay strong, to stay optimistic. This is going to hurt her, terribly. I don’t want to see her suffer, but she has every right to know. After all, the note was intended for her. It is my eyes that are prying.
True, it was accidental. I came into the room, excitedly announcing our victory over the invading forces, meaning to convince a certain brooding prince and my dear, apathetic friend to join me in celebration. Any excuse to see them smile, really.
Imagine my surprise when I found the room empty, save a lonely looking scroll, tied caringly with a pretty little tie, resting on the bed.
I thought it might’ve been intended for me, or for Azula, asking us not to disturb them. Oh Mai, I’m so sorry! I didn’t know it was private, didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to read it!
But I did read it, no use in pretending I didn’t. Especially now that I know what it says. She’s going to pretend she doesn’t care, shrug it off, yawn maybe. But I know her. It’s going to hurt, Mai. But it’s alright. I’m here Mai, I’ve always been here.
So I take a deep breath and force a comforting smile up to my lips, as I raise my hand and with trepidation knock on her door, inwardly a part of me prays she never answers.
“Never let ‘em see you cry, Pinkie.”
My first memory of my childhood isn’t very special at all. We’re sitting still, all of us, as a court painter finishes our family portrait. Father is to the left, standing beside Mother who sits on a finely crafted settee; she is too burdened with child to stand. In her arms she carries my younger sister Suyin. She’s sleeping, of course, she’s just a baby. I look over jealously. I wish I could just fall asleep; sitting still for a portrait is so boring.
I look over to my right, where my sisters Peijing and Baozhai are standing, looking jealously at me for being allowed to sit.
That’s right; I’m in Ai-Ling’s lap. I look up at her face, and she looks back down at me sweetly, sympathetically.
“Just a little longer, Ty Lee.” She whispers, her pretty painted lips smiling in that comforting, understanding way that only Ai-Ling can. She is so beautiful. I wish I was old enough to paint my lips like her. I wonder, if I did, would my smiles be as graceful as hers?
The painter clears his throat loudly, and it takes me a moment to realize he’s directing it at me. I stop staring at Ai-Ling and face forward. The painter returns to his work.
It’s really not fair, keeping a three year old like me sitting still so long. I fidget uncomfortably and feel, rather than hear, Ai-Ling laugh quietly behind me.
“Be still, little one.” She whispers into my ear. “I promise, after this, I’ll teach you a new game.”
I sit still immediately. Ai-Ling always knows the best games. So I smile big and wait anxiously for the painter to finish the portrait. I just hope we’re not all old by the time he finishes, then he’ll have to start all over.
Suyin starts crying. Mother is overwhelmed, trying to keep her quiet. Suyin won’t relent, crying louder and louder. Mother is flustered. Father raises his voice, saying he’s paying for our time with the court artist, we shouldn’t waste it. Peijing and Baozhai are whispering to each other, giggling. How they could find the situation amusing, I don’t understand to this day.
I feel Ai-Ling’s delicate hands on my waist as she gingerly slides me off her lap and onto my feet. Her graceful footsteps make no sound as she goes to mother’s side and takes the child from her arms.
Almost immediately, Suyin stills.
This memory is vivid and alive in my mind. Even then, at that moment, I remember I knew… I knew this was the way I would always think of my family.
And even then, so early on, I wanted out.
My sister Ai-Ling could be described in three words; loving, compassionate, and understanding. She was thirteen years old in my earliest memory of her, eight years older than Peijing. I suppose our parents had originally only intended to have one daughter, but then for whatever reason, years later, decided they wanted another heir. Then Peijing, Baozhai, and I had been born, one right after the other. Peijing was five in my earliest memory of her, Baozhai four, and myself three. Then there was the new baby, Suyin. Barely a year out of Mother’s womb, and already Mother was with child again.
How curious, that after originally only wanting one daughter, our parents had turned around completely and had so many children. I wondered, sometimes, if perhaps they were trying for a boy and had just never succeeded, my sisters and I were only the result of failed attempts.
It made sense, then, why my memories of my parents are so few. They were almost always away at a conference or festivity.
To be honest, all my memories of being cared for as a child are of Ai-Ling.
Ai-Ling seemed so tall back then, towering over little me. But she was never an imposing figure. She was too graceful, too sweet, too patient to be anything but a comfort. Suyin apparently thought so too, because the only way I remember baby Suyin was either bawling her eyes out, or contently resting in Ai-Ling’s arms.
I remember, only a few days after the disastrous portrait event, waking up to the smell of freshly fried rice cakes. I hoped out of bed, called out to the servants to hurry and come dress me, all the while trying to hold off the temptation to just run down to the kitchen and steal a plate full. The tantalizing smell kept beckoning me as the servants finished with my attire and started on my hair. They barely finished the braid before I was dashing out of the room.
Peijing and Baozhai were already at the table, chatting away about their secret little plans for the day. I hurried to take a seat beside them, kneeling so as to be tall enough to look over their heads and at the servants coming in with our breakfast.
“Settle down, Ty Lee.” Peijing said, smirking in that mocking way of hers. “The food’s not going anywhere.”
“I swear, it’s like you were raised on a farm.” chimed in Baozhai, ever unoriginal.
“I hungy.” I replied in my infant tongue.
“You’d think she was starving.” Peijing said, rolling her eyes and returning to her private conversation with Baozhai.
As we were served our plates of a variety of flavored rice cakes, still steaming hot, I looked down at my lap in embarrassment. Those two had a real knack for making me feel ridiculous. I hadn’t meant to look so desperate. I was just excited for the food.
I could feel the tears welling in my eyes, the sight of my rice cakes blurring, and I tried with all my strength to suppress a sob. But all my strength was not enough, and a sniffle escaped, unbidden.
“Great, now she’s crying.” Baozhai said in exasperation, throwing her hands in the air.
“You’re so overdramatic.” Peijing said, finishing a rice cake before pushing her plate forward and excusing herself. Baozhai followed suit, leaving me at the table, alone, crying into my breakfast, my appetite evaporated.
You know, I always thought it was funny the way time passes when you’re a child. The happy moments, fun moments, seem to last only a matter of minutes. While the dull, painful, or angry times seem to last forever. I couldn’t have possible sat alone at the breakfast table for long, but it seemed to me that hours passed.
I tried to stop my tears, tried to put myself together, but the more I tried the harder the tears pushed themselves out of my eyes, dripping down to the now soggy rice cakes on my plate. I couldn’t help it, I just felt so pathetic, and the more I cried the more pathetic I felt, so I cried some more. I didn’t see any way out of it, so I surrendered to my crying fit and let myself weep softly, hushed. I was going to be crying forever, wasn’t I?
“Ty Lee?” The soft, concerned sound of Ai-Ling’s voice behind me snapped me out of my spell of self-pity. I raised my head to face her, standing in the dining room doorway, Suyin happily pulling at her hair.
That’s another thing I remember; Ai-Ling’s hair. It was that same unusually light brown shade that mine was, and yet hers always seemed so much lovelier. The way she wore it, most of her hair cascading down freely, with a little off the top tied up into a long tail, made her look the part of a princess in my eyes. I had tried to replicate the style, but I could never get it quite right. My hair just wasn’t long enough, or silky enough, or as cooperative.
“Ty Lee, what’s wrong?” Ai-Ling said as she came over and knelt beside me.
“I-I-I…” I wiped my eyes with the back of my fist, trying to stifle my sobs long enough to explain to her what had happened. But the words wouldn’t come, and all I managed to choke out was, “I hungy…”
Ai-Ling brought up one of her nimble, long-fingered hands to brush my bangs out of my eyes and cooed, “Shh, it’s alright. We have plenty of food here.”
I wailed in frustration, unable to explain what it was that was bothering me. “But I not hungy anymo-o-o-re!” I covered my face with my hands, letting myself wail loudly, not caring if anyone heard me or how pathetic I looked. At that moment the situation seemed irreparable to me.
“Ty Lee…” Ai-Ling said, gently massaging my scalp with her free hand, “I think I know how to help that.” I quieted down and slowed my sobbing, peeking through my fingers and tears to look at her. Ai-Ling stood, taking my plate in her free hand, and gestured with her head for me to follow. “It’s probably just because these are cold. I’ll warm them up for you and you’ll see, your appetite will be back with a vengeance.”
I sniffled a few more times and then stood, mesmerized as I followed Ai-Ling into the kitchen. I was astounded by her remedy. Sure, the rice cakes hadn’t been the real problem, but even being unable to decipher the real problem from my childish squeals, she had still found a solution. Ai-Ling was just so smart and so confidant!
“Ty Lee, can you help me? I have one of my hands full with Suyin.” Even as she said it, Suyin tugged at Ai-Ling’s bangs, giggling gleefully.
I nodded enthusiastically, what an honor it was to have Ai-Ling asking for my help! I quickly went through the cupboards and fetched the things Ai-Ling asked me for. I watched with wonder as she dropped a dollop of fat onto a pan and let it melt, then tossed my soggy rice cakes over it.
“Ai-Ling, why don’t ask the cooks?” I asked, standing on my tiptoes, straining to watch her every move.
“We could ask them,” she said casually, re-frying the rice cakes with one hand and bouncing Suyin with the other arm, “but sometimes it’s good to try things out for ourselves. That’s how we learn.” She finished and poured the crispy again rice cakes onto my plate. Piping hot, they were emitting that irresistible aroma again. And what do you know? I felt my tummy rumble!
“There you go, sweetie.” She said, placing the plate in my eager hands. “Anything else?”
“Uh-uh!” I shook my head, turning on my heel and happily hurrying back to the table to eat.
After breakfast, I wandered into the main room, where Peijing was showing off her newest obsession to Baozhai. Peijing was the only one of us attending school at the moment—Baozhai and I still being too young—and so she delighted in showing off all the little trinkets she would trade or buy from her school friends. This week it seemed to be a collection of intricately designed hand-painted hairpins.
“And this one’s carved from a real Camelephant tusk, and embedded with finest jade.” Peijing prattled on, sounding bored, as if she had much nicer things to show.
“Wow!” Baozhai gasped, reaching for the pretty hairpin, which Peijing pointedly kept away from her grasp. “Oh please, just let me see it!”
“See with your eyes, not with your hands.” Peijing teased. “These are one-of-a-kind, you know. Hand crafted. They were really hard to collect, even for me.”
“Can I have one? Just one! Oh please, please, please? They’re so pretty, just like you, Peijing!” Baozhai begged, appealing to Peijing’s vanity, which was probably the reaction she had been waiting for.
“Alright. But only one, Baozhai!”
Baozhai put a finger to her mouth as she scanned over her options, splayed out on the floor. “Umm…” She turned the hairpins in her hands before finally settling on a pretty red and gold one. “This one will match my dress!” Which it would, because we all wore red. Every single one of us, in the same crimson and scarlet attire. Sometimes I was scared I would wake up one morning and not know which one of us I was.
“Alright, I guess.” Peijing shrugged. “If you really want that one.”
Baozhai clapped and took the hairpin, placing it in her hair. It didn’t look quite right with the style she wore her hair in. It was a single braid, similar to mine, but tied at the bottom of her head rather than the top. The hairpin looked a bit silly stuck into a braid that it wasn’t held up anywhere. It probably would’ve complimented Peijing a lot better, since she wore most of her hair down like Ai-Ling with a little off the top in a top-knot. But in spite of that, Baozhai was so happy with her precious hairpin.
I wanted to be happy too, and those pins were so pretty! I walked up to Peijing and put on my best smile. “I play too, Peijing?”
Peijing scowled, turning her back to me. “No, Ty Lee. You’re too little. You’ll just break them.”
“Please?” I employed Baozhai’s pleading. “Please pity sistah?” I had meant to say pretty, but my infant tongue had skipped over an R, as it often did back then.
“What did you call me?” Peijing stood up and whirled on me, stomping her foot into the floor in annoyance. “Did you just call me pitiful!?”
“Yes?” I said nervously, unaware of what I had done to upset her. “You so pitiful, Peijing.”
“I think she means prettyful.” Baozhai said quietly, still sitting.
“You stay out of this!” Peijing snapped. Baozhai averted her eyes and said nothing else.
“I just want play wit you.” I sniffled, tears welling in my eyes again.
“No one asked you to play with us, Ty Lee. Go bother Ai-Ling! See how long she puts up with you.” Peijing said nastily, sitting down and turning back to her hairpins.
Before I could help it, I was crying again. “You so mean!” I yelled, stomping my foot in imitation of Peijing’s outburst. “You so mean—telling Ai-Ling!”
“Go ahead, she’s not mom. What’s she going to do?” Peijing scoffed.
With a loud wail I turned to run out of the room, but my vision was blurred by my tears. Not watching where I was going, I stumbled on my own feet, and fell backwards. All I remember was a loud crack, a crunching sensation in my lower back, and Peijing’s shrill scream of protest.
“Ow…” I sat up, rubbing my head and back. I turned around to see what I had landed on, and my eyes widened in panic—the precious hairpins lay in pieces where I had fallen.
“My HAIRPINS!” Peijing shrieked furiously. “You lousy klutz!”
“I sowy.” I cried, scrambling to my feet. “I fell...”
“Just get out of here!” She screamed, rising to her feet and pushing me away. “Get out before you break something else, you clumsy hogmonkey!”
I ran out of the room in tears, straight outside into our garden; the one place I could think of where there was nothing I could break. Nothing the clumsy hogmonkey could break.
Again, time seemed to drag on forever. I cried at the base of our big blossom tree, ruing my existence the way only a child can. I couldn’t get Peijing’s words out of my mind. All I could think about was how dumb I was. I had probably cost Baozhai her hairpin too; no doubt since it was the only one intact, Peijing would take it back. So now Baozhai would hate me too! I wiped my eyes on my sleeve, feeling so alone and unwanted, and all over a few dumb hairpins.
It wasn’t until I felt a gentle hand on my head that I realized I wasn’t alone at all.
Ai-Ling put Suyin down gently on the grass. Suyin, luckily, busied herself with yanking at the blades of grass and was too distracted to complain. I turned around and threw myself into Ai-Ling’s arms, where she held me.
“Now don’t tell me you’re hungry again already?” She joked good-naturedly.
“No…” I sniffled, “clumsy…” I choked on my own words and rubbed my face against the smooth fabric of her dress.
“You? Clumsy?” Ai-Ling pulled me back to look me in the face, tear-stained as it must’ve been. “Whatever gave you that idea?”
“I fell.” I bit my lip, willing myself not to start crying again, not in front of Ai-Ling.
“But sweetheart, we all fall down sometimes.” She pulled a handkerchief out of her sleeve and wiped my face gently.
“You don’t.” I hadn’t even heard her approach. It was like she hovered over the ground.
“I used to. But Ty Lee, just like with everything else, grace is something you have to work at.” She tipped my chin up to meet my eyes, staring into me with a sincerity I have never seen matched. “Anything worth doing in life takes practice and dedication. It isn’t always easy, but when you work hard you’ll certainly achieve your dream.”
I stared back at her full, grey eyes, twinkling with so much knowledge which seemed otherworldly to me at the time. I reached forward to touch her cheek, as if that would somehow pass this wisdom onto me.
Suyin screamed, her little fists waving in the air, complaining about being left for too long. Ai-Ling sighed, giving my hand a squeeze, and then moved over to Suyin, scooping her up in her arms. I watched with admiration, the way she seemed to glide over the field and back into the house.
I think that was the day I decided I would work extra hard to be as graceful as Ai-Ling. Everyday, after breakfast, I would go out to the garden and try all sorts of silly things like keeping balance on one foot, or standing on my hands. Soon enough, it became second nature to me. I guess I was a natural, I just hadn’t known it.
I was four the first time I saw Ai-Ling arguing with my parents. I remember the babies’ cries most clearly. Not only Suyin, clinging to Ai-Ling as if for dear life, but also the twins in their crib; Jia and Jiao. Just my parents’ luck; twins, and both girls.
I was in the next room, peeking into the main room where my parents and Ai-Ling were arguing. I had never seen Ai-Ling raise her voice before. It didn’t suit her. She was always so nice and lady like, it felt almost like watching another person with her face.
And to think this was all my fault.
Earlier that day I had been so bored. With Baozhai now old enough, she and Peijing would both spend most of their days at school. Suyin was barely two. Sure, she was cute, but she wasn’t exactly old enough to teach any games to. She spent all of her time behind Ai-Ling anyway.
Ai-Ling couldn’t play with me either. With Suyin, and now the twins to take care of too, she had her hands full. I asked her once why she didn’t just let the servants take care of the babies. Ai-Ling had replied because we were family and she wouldn’t trust anyone to take care of her precious baby sisters but family. I guess when I think about it, it makes sense. I love Ai-Ling, and I would’ve hated to have servants raising me instead of her. They couldn’t have possibly had the patience with me that she did, or taught me all the fun games or interesting rhymes that she did.
Without anyone to play with, I spent the whole morning doing handstands and cartwheels. It was fun for a little while, but I did it so often that it wasn’t really a game anymore. It was too easy. So I spent most of the afternoon moping around the house, sighing and sticking my tongue out at Suyin whenever she came into the room to see what I was doing.
It was dreadful. I had grown so used to having Baozhai around. Sure, Baozhai wouldn’t play with me when Peijing was around, but whenever Peijing was at school, Baozhai and I had fun together.
I lay down on the couch, staring at the ceiling with a long-suffering sigh, before falling asleep for the majority of the boring afternoon. It had been Ai-Ling who woke me later, smiling sympathetically and ushering me up.
“Let’s go do something fun, just you and me.” She said brightly. “We can leave the twins with the servants for just a couple hours.”
I jumped at the chance! To be able to have a fun day out, just with Ai-Ling? Even Peijing would be jealous! My boredom forgotten, I dashed to the door, urging Ai-Ling to hurry up; there was no time to waste! I could see it already, just the two of us, talking and laughing, doing girl stuff, and no babies to distract Ai-Ling. It would just be me she paid attention to, I’d be special. I could hardly contain my glee!
That is, until Suyin bungled into the room, whining to come too.
“No way.” I scoffed, annoyed with the delay from Ai-Ling and my perfect day. “She’s too little. She’ll just slow us down and get in the way. And then she’ll get tired and want to come home!”
Little Suyin’s squishy baby face crumpled and she grabbed onto Ai-Ling’s skirt, pulling at it as she cried, “No!” Suyin didn’t know many words yet, but that was by far her favorite. “No, no, no! Ali! Ali!”
“It’s Ai-Ling, not Ali.” I corrected. The least she could do was learn our older sister’s name.
“Ali, Ali! No go!” She cried, still tugging at Ai-Ling’s dress. I almost felt sorry for her. But if Ai-Ling had said it was only going to be the two of us, Suyin would just have to accept that.
“Shh, alright Suyin, it’s alright.” Ai-Ling cooed tenderly, taking Suyin up in her arms to calm her. “I suppose you can join our little excursion.”
“But Ai-Ling,” I protested, glaring at Suyin; the little minxweasel, “you said it would just be the two of us. You said!”
“I know, Ty Lee. But how can we just leave Suyin here? She’s as much my sister as you are.”
“But she’s just a baby.” I pouted; the unfairness of it all was just too much to bear. After such a dreadful day, I finally got promised an outing with Ai-Ling, and then Suyin had to come and ruin it.
“Oh, and you’re not?” Ai-Ling said, amusement tinkling in her voice.
“No, I’m not. Not anymore.” I said proudly, standing tall for Ai-Ling to see.
“You right, you’re not. And that’s precisely why you should do the mature thing and let baby Suyin come.” Ai-Ling concluded.
It was hard to argue with that logic. It was hard to argue with Ai-Ling at all. Still pouting, I grudgingly opened the door for Ai-Ling as she carried Suyin out with her. I tried not to grumble out loud, maybe there would be another time. Suyin wouldn’t be a baby forever, after all. Maybe when she was my age, then Ai-Ling would ask her to do the mature thing and not intrude on our special sister outings.
Ai-Ling had wanted to take me out shopping. Dresses, jewelry, maybe even have our hair done. But she couldn’t carry a lot of packages with Suyin in her arms, plus Suyin tired easily and hours of shopping would make her cranky. Instead we just went for a short walk around the local shops, barely stopping long enough to browse through all the things we couldn’t buy now. Thanks a lot, Suyin.
My disappointment must’ve shown on my face because Ai-Ling pulled me aside and said she still had a surprise for me. I followed her through an alley, to a lower class section of the market place. Here there were mostly kiosks rather than shops, and the customers dressed in plainer, less adorned clothing. I had never been in such a place before and looked at Ai-Ling warily. Something told me we were not supposed to be here.
Sensing my apprehension, Ai-Ling took my hand. She led me through the many kiosks to a quaint little shop in the corner. I couldn’t read yet, so I couldn’t make out the sign, but I did notice that the words were faded. The paint was peeling from the walls, which were cracked and stained. It wasn’t the prettiest shop I had ever seen.
I held my breath as Ai-Ling opened the door and led me inside, fearing that the smell of the place would match its outward appearance. My lungs were small, however, and I was barely able to resist breathing for a few seconds before needing air. With a strong exhalation and a deep breath, I was pleasantly surprised to discover the familiar scent of rice cakes in the air, among other things. There was a sweetness I couldn’t quite make out wafting through the air. And inspecting the shop, I realized that despite its simplicity, it was clean and well-kept.
There was a wooden counter, simple and unpolished. Behind it stood a smiling man in simple brown attire who bid us welcome.
“Ty Lee, this is a special bakery.” Ai-Ling explained, pulling me towards the counter. “They make all sorts of special treats out of roots. It’s delicious, and very good for you.”
The man behind the counter, he seemed so tall but he couldn’t have been much older than Ai-Ling, leaned over to look down at me. “That’s right, little girl. My name’s Gen, welcome to my family’s bakery.” He looked up at Ai-Ling, his face reddening a bit. I tilted my head, hoping he wasn’t coming down with a fever. He seemed so nice… “And to what do I owe the pleasure? It isn’t often we receive guests of such high class.”
Ai-Ling released my hand to reach into the satchel tied around her waist, withdrawing a small bag of coins and placed it on the counter. As she spoke with Gen, I turned away and walked over to inspect the shelves on the walls. There were so many different rolls and dumplings of all sorts of colors. A particularly fluffy white roll caught my eye. It looked so soft and shiny, like it was made of cloud. Curiously I poked it with a finger. The roll made a small whooshing noise and deflated, losing its appeal. “Poof!” I replicated the noise, enchanted. “The roll went poof.” Captivated, I inspected the remaining shelves, touching and prodding anything that looked interesting, and giggling in delight. “Poof, poof, poof! Like a cloud, poof!”
“Ty Lee.” Ai-Ling’s voice called from the counter. I had almost forgotten where I was. Turning around and hiding my sticky hands behind my back, I gave my best innocent smile.
“Yes?”
“Come here and get your treat.” Ai-Ling said, apparently unaware of what I had been doing behind her back.
“Okay!” I skipped over, eager to see what surprise she had gotten me. I wiped my hands as best I could on my skirt and then held them out. Completely oblivious to my roll poofing rampage, Ai-Ling handed me a brown folded cloth, instructing me not to open it yet so it wouldn’t get cold. I could feel the warmth of the rolls inside and softly pressed my face against the cloth, feeling the warmth filter through to my cheeks. I giggled and smiled up at Ai-Ling, thanking her, barely able to resist the urge to unwrap the rolls and poof them.
Then, nodding her thanks as she said her goodbyes to Gen, Ai-Ling offered her hand to me and led me outside. As I took her hand and followed, I turned my head to catch one final glance of the friendly baker. He smiled and waved goodbye as he called out, “Hope you enjoy the show!” I waved back, even though I had no idea what he meant. I assumed maybe he meant to say “enjoy your treat” and just got mixed-up.
We left the shopping district and headed for a more secluded neighborhood. Ai-Ling, holding Suyin who had—as I predicted—fallen asleep in her arms, took me to a large, mostly vacant park on the outskirts of a giant building.
It was beautifully kept, the park grass perfectly groomed, the white marble of the building’s walls polished to shine like glass in the sun. In the shade beneath a large, old tree, Ai-Ling positioned a sleeping Suyin and sat beside her, calling my name. With some effort, I tore my eyes from the shimmering building and hurried to Ai-Ling’s side.
As we sat, enjoying the peace in such a beautiful day outdoors and the sweet taste of the rolls we had purchased, I asked Ai-Ling about the curious building before us.
“That, Ty Lee, is the Royal Fire Academy for Girls” she explained with a smile, a strangely distant look in her eyes. I couldn’t quite tell what it was that bothered me about her expression. It was almost like she was sad and yet wasn’t. Licking the remainder of sweet syrup from my roll off my fingers, I listened curiously as she continued. “It’s a very special school. Only the finest women in the whole Fire Nation get to go there.”
I blinked, looking at Ai-Ling and then turning to observe the building. Girls of all ages were beginning to shuffle out onto the courtyard.
“Did you go there Ai-Ling?” I asked, turning back to my sister, wondering just what her strange look had to do with this place.
“Yes. All women of our family must go, given our social standing.” I didn’t completely understand her answer, but as long as it meant I could someday go…
“Is that where Peijing and Baozhai go to?” I had always wondered what this school they were always going to and talking about was, what it looked like.
“Not quite. They go to its sister school, for younger children.” She gave me a proud smile and pat my head. “You’ll be starting next year too. Then when you turn nine, if your marks are good enough and your family is important enough, the boys and girls get sent to different academies until you’re about thirteen.”
“And this is the one the girls get sent to.” I said, putting this new information together as best as a child could.
“Exactly.”
I looked back over to the Academy, my eyes alight with anticipation. My marks would be good enough, I could do it. Someday I will go to this place, I told myself. I will go and I will be just like Ai-Ling.
As the last of the girls exiting the building scattered across the park, headed in their own directions despite their identical attire, I cast my gaze over every shimmering tile I could see, every thick, sturdy pillar, unmovable, untouchable. They would not bend, but neither would they break. I wondered for a moment, if it was possible to bend without being weak.
“Well, come along.” Ai-Ling said, picking Suyin up in her arms and standing up. I followed suit, brushing off my skirts, and took the hand Ai-Ling offered to me.
“Are we going home?” I asked, hoping I was wrong. I didn’t want the outing to end, not quite yet. Perhaps not ever. I wanted to keep walking, even if we said nothing, just to be next to Ai-Ling like this, following her footsteps, always.
“We have to.” She said, giving my hand a playful squeeze. “I need to get Suyin to bed. We want her well rested so she won’t be cranky during the show.”
“Show?” I echoed, remembering what that nice man at the bakery had said.
“Yes.” Ai-Ling replied simply, reaching into her bag to retrieve a slip of paper to show me, her face curiously flushed; ever so slightly. “I asked Gen to get them for me. Of course, I paid him for his trouble…”
She trailed off into her own thoughts as I took the paper from her hand and observed it. I couldn’t read yet, of course, and only stared at the colorful drawings in wonder.
“What is it?” I asked, having turned the paper every which way and still been unable to make any sense of it.
Ai-Ling jumped, as if surprised by my voice, lost amidst her own thoughts as she was. “Why, Ty Lee,” she exclaimed, bringing her free hand to her chest to calm herself, “they’re circus tickets, of course!”
And that was where the problem started. Ai-Ling had gotten circus tickets for all of us, except the twins since they were just babies. When we had come home, we waited for Peijing and Baozhai to arrive from school so we could tell them the good news. Baozhai took her ticket gratefully but Peijing, brat that she was, stormed over to tell mother and father.
Our parents were furious. A dirty commoner’s circus was no place for young ladies of such fine breeding! Ai-Ling protested, argued that the circus was for children, that we were children, and that we deserved to go.
They would not relent, and finally forbade Ai-Ling from taking us. Peijing had smirked at me triumphantly and although Baozhai stood beside her, Baozhai couldn’t hide the little frown of disappointment on her face.
However, while our parents forbade us going, they really did not take extra measures to stop us. As usual, they had meetings and gatherings of the court to attend, leaving us only with Ai-Ling and our servants.
Ai-Ling would not be deterred. She had always been a good girl, obedient, but every now and then small acts of defiance, usually unimportant enough to go by unnoticed, would bring us all a secret sort of delight. So that night, leaving Jia and Jiao with the servants, Ai-Ling took the four of us; Peijing, Boazhai, myself, and Suyin, to the circus. She instructed us to wear our less formal attire, seeing as this wasn’t our ordinary type of outing.
It’s strange, for an event that changed my life, I don’t remember much of it. It’s so hazy in my mind, only little things stick out. I remember going into a darker, browner, less decorated part of the city. I remember being shocked at seeing children my age, and older, running barefoot through the plain dirt roads. Even in our more casual attire, we must have stood out terribly amongst the worn and faded rags most people there wore.
I held tight to Ai-Ling’s hand the entire time, frightened by my unfamiliar surroundings. Ai-Ling held Suyin protectively, as Baozhai tightly gripped Ai-Ling’s dress on the side opposite me. Ever insubordinate, Peijing stood beside Baozhai and walked without so much as a glance in Ai-Ling’s direction, arms crossed in irritation at not getting her way. There was something to be said for Peijing’s bravery, even if that was the only quality of hers I admired.
But even my own fears evaporated as we took out seats and the show began. Lights, feathers, flashes of scarlet and gold everywhere, and shimmering showmen taking on the most unbelievable of feats, right before my very eyes!
Knife throwers, fire-dragon makers, and wild animal tamers of every kind! But the one figure that stood out of my mind was not a large and world-worn showman, but a small and lithe young woman, barely clothed at all. Her headdress shimmered in the light of the fire as she jumped across the entirety of the ring, right over my head! She was so beautiful, so fragile in appearance, and yet she smiled the entire time, never fearing she would fall. She bent and twirled and contorted every which way; in ways no human should be allowed to bend! And yet she was strong, so very strong and unafraid.
And free.
My eyes never left her, even as she moved aside to allow other acts to take center stage. In my mind there was no one else in that bright striped tent but the two of us. Even as she stood there, unmoving but for the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest; breathing, I put myself in her place, just for a moment. When the crowd around me thundered in applause—reminding me of their presence—I fancied it was me they were cheering for. It was me who had leapt into the air, eyes open, smile wide and unafraid.
As we left for home a couple hours later, Suyin yawning but playfully batting at the air face in delight, Ai-Ling asked us what we had thought of the performances.
Baozhai began to tell us of how she had enjoyed the fighting rabiroo the best, until Peijing interrupted; complaining about how low-class and disgusting the whole thing was. Baozhai nodded in agreement, adding that she didn’t even like the rabiroo that much either.
Ai-Ling’s smile faltered slightly. Peijing was always being mean like that. Nothing impressed her except shiny trinkets and pretty dresses. And it didn’t matter what Baozhai thought about anything, she’d always follow Peijing’s word blindly.
Ignoring Peijing’s mean outburst, and Baozhai’s stupid agreement, I lifted my chin and proudly declared that I had loved the show.
“Really?” Ai-Ling’s smile grew back, her eyes glittering thankfully. “What did you like best, Ty Lee?”
“The acrobat lady!” I said, excitement rising up in my stomach at the mere memory.
“Figures she would…” muttered Peijing to Baozhai, who giggled in reply.
I huffed, not caring what Peijing thought. “I’m going to do that too when I grow up.” I announced matter-of-factly.
“Do what, sweetie?” Ai-Ling asked.
“Fly.” I said, gesturing with my hand for emphasis.
“That’s stupid!” Peijing said suddenly, running in front of us so we stopped walking to face her. “People can’t fly Ty Lee!”
“The acrobat lady did!”
“No she didn’t!” Peijing insisted. “It was a trick! She can’t fly and neither can you!”
“Peijing!” Ai-Ling said sharply, warningly.
“What? It’s true! People can’t fly, not anymore than…” Peijing paused for a moment, looking around for something to make her point. Finding a small pebble on the ground, she kicked it to the side, watching as it briefly soared and then landed with a pathetic thud, “…not anymore than a rock!”
And with that, she crossed her arms and marched on ahead of us in a huff. Baozhai followed after Peijing, mimicking her movements.
We were close enough to home that Ai-Ling didn’t chase after them. Instead she just sighed patiently and cradled Suyin in her arms.
People can’t fly, not anymore than a rock!
And for whatever reason, those words stuck with me.
