#half the edit is somewhat serious and then half is just CRACK and you kno what THAT’S JUST THEIR VIBE

[ohmygodtheywereparabatai]

A piece for LuZhao ~

—

“My aunt Ursa loves this play to pieces.”

He hopped down from the edge of the stage, easing some anxiety that he would slip off and Zhao wouldn’t leap out in time - though the prince didn’t know it. “She goes on and on, until Azula gags and runs out at the lovey-dovey scenes, and Zuko’s head falls into my lap. I’d stay still so he could sleep, and sit through the rest.”

“Sad.” He stared at the darkened lanterns, the sun sinking overheard. “Sounds like you envied the princess.”

“Oh, no.” The royal dug into velvety sand with his bare feet, smiling, “I loved her stories most of all.”

The crowd had deserted a performance met with flowers and encore, and Lu Ten had slipped through the back door, jumped him with a bright mask strung with feathers. Zhao’s heart had nearly stopped - not when he scared him, but when he tugged off the band and threw back his head, laughter overflowing from deep in his belly, his father’s laugh. When Lu Ten’s eyes lowered to Zhao again, he’d gone white, and he was speechless. Though the prince didn’t know it.

“Pff, no way.” He followed him when he took the steps onto stage left. “You? But you’re a soldier. What’s there to like in something so... sappy? It’s a waste of time.”

“On the contrary, friend, it’s a gift.” Lu Ten skimmed the wooden boards as they creaked underfoot, retracing the performers’ exact positions, dust flying with each sweeping step. He was careful to maneuver around strewn flowers. Zhao crushed the cool petals freely, releasing their aroma on occasion, until he noticed Lu Ten’s hesitance and did the same. “Here-” He looked up just as a mask was shoved into his hands. The fanged red one, with a feathery tuft to cap the actor’s head. Zhao crinkled his nose, sensing the rest of his plan. “... No.”

“Come on! You don’t think being a soldier and being an actor ever intersect? Don’t you know fighting and performing take quick thinking, light feet, a heart full of hope?” Lu Ten struggled to disguise a handful of blue streamers under his robe, then gripped Zhao’s hand in his own. The older boy barely found the voice to cry out before faux orange flames slithered down his sleeve, and he shivered - his cheeks went hot. “Lu...!”

“Think of a girl! Think of the cutest girl you’ve ever seen.”

“I-”

Lu Ten popped the band around his ears, settling a blue demon’s tusked face on top of his own. “Now I’ve caught her! She’s my prisoner in the underworld, and she’ll be mine forever! You, the brave Dragon Emperor, must decide your fate and hers. Is destiny your friend today - or is it your doom?”

“Shouldn’t you be the-”

And the prince flew forwards - Zhao, just reaching to itch at the feathers clumped under his ear, staggered back and threw out his arm. Paper ribbons flew wide, his heels instinctively diving around flowers to avoid trampling them.

Ohh, Agni. He caught his balance, bubbled with enthusiasm gleaned from literal years spent absorbing Lu Ten’s every word. “You’re a bigger fool than you are a god, wretched spirit. Don’t you know you only pull the tides because they recoil from your touch?” Their footsteps thumped on the floorboards, displaced air rustling the tied lanterns. “Don’t you know the moon wanes at the hideous sight of you because she turns her face away? Or are you as blind as her to the truth?” Zhao exhausted the ammunition left, red streamers colliding with blue and rolling out over the stage. “There is no damsel!” He cried triumphantly. “You failed to find whom I truly gave my heart to.”

Lu Ten leapt for him, shouts and winded breaths mingling as they pinwheeled to a stop. “Ohoho...” Were they breaking character? Was this in character? Abort, abort! Lu Ten cracked a grin behind the mask, though Zhao didn’t know it. “I never guessed you were so well versed, Mister Stage Fright.” An arm gently pinned his throat. “Speak! Who is she, then? One more prisoner should sate my lonely company. More so than yours, Noren.”

“The... the lonelier company is mine, always.” His eyes glittered, peeling the band loose. The red dragon’s face rattled aside. “I knew immortality when I knew love. You, of all champions sent to slay me, only fuel my true form... So I ask, if I must die at your hands, to see yours. Just once.” His hand rose, curled, uncertain, fingertips drawn to the ingrained lines in Lu Ten’s mask. Zhao was driven by their adrenaline, assured by the single shield of anonymity between them. When that too fell away with a swipe of Lu Ten’s thumb, he paled; all words shirked his throat.

Your true form.

“I...” Zhao shot a wild look around. “I thought we were- I thought you were, er, the mortal girl. The Dragon Empress, right? It’s dark out, so I couldn’t tell-”

A chuckle interrupted the whistle of his breath. “... I guess I wore the wrong mask.” Though, this once, the prince knew better.

“Yeah... just a misunderstanding. You get it, don’t y-”

He shut him up, the sunset converging on the horizon with the moment the world ebbed away. The taste resembled sea salt, tea leaves, earth and warmth.