Fiction
vr 3.00
2008-02-16
"Exiles, 1st & 2nd Versions" by Abraxas | 2007-05-18
1st Version
The ferry to Ba Singe Se lurched through the sea.
And to Zuko the voyage was aggravated by the passengers. Those faces! Those eyes! Unfamiliar and unbearable.
The refugees watched with suspicion – he thought then sighed.
He was a refugee too and the others did not fear him. They could not imagine what he used to be. Indeed, except for that scar there was not a trace of that life. Where, then, came the paranoia?
He sighed, again, and leaned against the rail – the journey forced introspections he was not prepared to endure.
A stranger tapped the youth’s shoulder.
Zuko startled then relaxed.
“Oh,” he said, “it’s you.”
“Sorry.”
Annoyed yet relieved he shrugged: “It’s OK.”
“Saw you alone and thought you needed company.”
“I – I – do what you want, Jet.”
The fallen prince returned his gaze onto the sea. The exiled rebel leaned against the rail.
Looking into the water the stranger asked the youth: “So? What do you think about? Huh? You’re really out of it. Even for you, Zukie.”
Zuko rolled his eyes at Jet’s teasing.
“Come on, is it about the Avatar? A girlfriend?”
“I don’t –” He paused consumed by a memory of Mai – a recollection of cold, heartless deceit he did not cherish. Suddenly he recalled where he was yet he slipped: “I don’t want a girlfriend.”
“Oh?”
Silence – again the stranger engaged the youth.
“This trip, er, we’ve got nothing to do. Um, would you come with me?”
Zuko stared oddly at Jet.
Just like that, out of the blue, the man kissed the youth. Zuko did not know what to do. Never had he experience that let alone imagined it could be possible. He wondered: What does Jet find attractive about me? Is it because I’m an exile? A nothing?
He succumbed; he caved into the urge, natural and unexpected, that came into mind. The prince kissed the rebel. And that was followed by a mutual meeting of the lips. Then hands wandered. Then fingers explored.
Jet looked into Zuko’s eyes and asked: “Can we go?”
* * * * * * * * * *
An alcove beside the cargo was the safest place within the ferry the two found.
Zuko brushed Jet’s hair aside.
“Zukie, I always fantasized about you – but – I never imagined this could be real.”
“This, all of this, is new to me.”
Jet kissed Zuko’s scar.
“Now that we’re exiles we’re equals. We need to be together. And rely upon each other. Because there’s no one, no where, who will.”
The youth nodded as he gazed upon the window above.
The man was about to ask something then paused, sighed. There would be time for that later. Now that they were getting to know each other.
2nd Version
The ferry to Ba Singe Se lurched through the sea.
And to Zuko the voyage was aggravated by the passengers. Those faces! Those eyes! Unfamiliar and unbearable.
The refugees watched with suspicion – he thought then sighed.
He was a refugee too and the others did not fear him. They could not imagine what he used to be. Indeed, except for that scar there was not a trace of that life. Where, then, came the paranoia?
He sighed, again, and leaned against the rail – the journey forced introspections he was not prepared to endure.
A stranger tapped the youth’s shoulder.
Zuko startled then relaxed.
“Oh,” he said, “it’s you.”
“Sorry.”
Annoyed yet relieved he shrugged: “It’s OK.”
“Saw you alone and thought you needed company.”
“I – I – do what you want, Jet.”
The fallen prince returned his gaze onto the sea. The exiled rebel leaned against the rail.
Looking into the water the stranger asked the youth: “So? What do you think about? Huh? You’re really out of it. Even for you, Zukie.”
Zuko rolled his eyes at Jet’s teasing.
“Come on, is it about the Avatar? A girlfriend?”
“I don’t –” He paused consumed by a moment with Mai. It was a recollection of cold, heartless deceit that he did not care to remember. Suddenly Jet emerged into view again and involuntarily he slipped: “I don’t want a girlfriend.”
“Oh?”
Silence – again the stranger engaged the youth.
“This trip, er, we’ve got nothing to do. Um, would you come with me?”
Zuko stared oddly at Jet.
Just like that, out of the blue, the rebel kissed the prince. Zuko did not know what to do. Never had he experience that let alone imagined it could be possible. He wondered: What does Jet find attractive about me? Is it because I’m an exile? A nothing?
He succumbed; he caved into the urge, natural and unexpected, that came into mind. The prince kissed the rebel. And that was followed by a mutual meeting of the lips. Then hands wandered. Then fingers explored.
Jet looked into Zuko’s eyes and asked: “Can we go?”
END
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