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lizbeeTitle: The Good Daughter
Author: LizBee
Fandom: Legend of Korra
Characters and Pairing: Lin; Opal; OFC
Rating: All-ages
Summary: Nima confronts her mother in Zaofu.
Notes: "Old Wounds", the President Beifong AU version (sort of).
Nima flew over Suyin's estate until she found Opal practising basic airbending forms in the southern garden. Opal stopped when Nima landed, and her admiration as Nima twirled her glider was downright gratifying. It reminded Nima of herself, watching her dad with his own glider, not quite believing that one day she, too, would have that skill.
She folded her glider with a slightly bigger flourish than necessary, letting sunlight reflect off the metal latticework of the wings.
Opal laughed. "Now you're showing off," she said.
"Guilty." Nima sat down and motioned Opal to return to her practice. Watching her cousin's precise circle-walking, she said, "I saw you talking to Mom earlier. Do I have to apologise again?"
"No, she did that herself. We had a nice talk."
Nima raised her eyebrows. Ever since they landed in Zaofu two days ago, her mother had alternated between sulks and shouting, escalating into outright violence yesterday afternoon. In Nima's experience, her mother's bad moods -- and this was by far the worst she had ever seen -- rarely passed quickly.
"Really," said Opal. "She helped me a lot, actually."
"Huh."
Well, if Lin Beifong could let go of a decades-long grudge, Nima Beifong could do this.
She got to her feet, straightening her spine, trying to summon even a fraction of her father's dignity, and said, "I know your mother wants Korra to be your airbending master, but her Avatar duties won't let her stay at Zaofu for long. But I could. Stay here." She scraped her right thumbnail over the tip of the arrow tattoo on her left hand. "I mean, I'd be honoured to teach you. If you … want?"
Opal was smiling. In sympathy, not amusement. She was a year younger than Nima, but suddenly seemed much more mature. "Is that what you want?" she asked.
"Of course," said Nima. "I've always known I'd end up training new airbenders. At least, that was the hope. I was practically raised to be a teacher."
"So why aren't you at the Northern Air Temple with your dad and sister?"
Because I would rather eat my own fingernails.
"I thought my place was with Korra, finding airbenders. But now, I think I should be here."
"Oh." Opal sat down, motioning for Nima to join her. "I'm … going to the Northern Air Temple. After everything Aunt Lin told me, I realised that I couldn't stay in Zaofu just to please Mom."
Nima opened her mouth to say, "Huh," but no sound came out.
"Are you okay?"
"Yes. No. I'm confused. My parents are all about duty and service and doing what's expected. What did my mother say to you?" Her hand closed around Opal's wrist. "Tell me everything."
Opal looked startled, but she said, "Er, well, she said that when she was my age, she had her whole life planned out to please her mom. But she realised that was a mistake, and she didn't want me to go through that, I need to find my own path. And, oh, reasonable parents want their kids to make their own choices, so--"
Nima had heard enough. She was overcome by a wave of anger, like a sudden gale on an otherwise calm day.
"I have to go," she said, opening her glider. "Sorry, I just -- I need to--"
She couldn't form words, so she gave Opal a weak shrug and took to the air.
Nima found her mother in her guesthouse, going through a pile of papers with a young woman from Republic City's consulate. An ordinary scene, except that Mom was wearing Zaofu-style robes.
Nima thought she had let go of her anger on the short flight over the estate, but seeing her mother reawakened it. She paced while Mom spoke to her aide, silently listing all the things she hated about Zaofu: the ubiquitous robes; the domes, which left the city claustrophobic and airless at night; the sheer fact that it called itself a city at all, with its monotonous streets and buildings her age or younger. Not to mention Aiwei's claim that there were no secrets in Zaofu. That was the kind of thing people said when they had something to hide.
And, in the three days since they had arrived in Zaofu, her mother had gone from sulks to violence. And now she was a smiling stranger who hummed under her breath as she worked, and dispensed advice like, Find your own path.
Nima's huff of irritation disturbed the papers on her mother's desk. Without looking up, Mom said, "If you can't sit still, you can wait outside."
Nima had been hearing that refrain for as long as she could remember, but, for the first time in years, it stung. She sat down, arms crossed, knees apart, taking up as much space as she could while she waited for her mother to finish.
Apparently Zaofu hadn't actually transformed her mother. It just … brought out something that was already there. Like Jinora's connection to the spirits in the weeks before Harmonic Conversion.
She didn't want to think about Jinora, off at the Northern Air Temple. But it was too late. Nima raked her hand through her short curls.
They used to be mistaken for twins, until, at fifteen, Nima had shaved her head and received her tattoos. Something changed after that. For the first time, she had gone where her sister couldn't follow. And she'd kept her hair short ever since.
You chose to be here. You can go to the Northern Air Temple with Opal and take your place at Dad's side like a proper little Air Nomad.
Whatever Jinora had felt when Nima got her tattoos, she kept it to herself. But Nima had barely been able to look at her since she had admitted to her connection with the spirits.
She didn't ask for it. You didn't want it.
It didn't seem to matter.
With an effort, she unclenched her fists.
Eventually, Mom fixed her seal to the final document and handed it to her aide, saying, "This folder should be delivered by hand to the Vice President. The rest can go in the diplomatic pouch. Don't confuse them."
"No, Madame President," said the aide.
"I don't need to remind you of the importance of discretion. If anyone finds out where the Avatar and I am--"
"I know, ma'am. The consul made it very clear."
"Good." Mom nodded at the door. "Go."
The aide fled, casting a nervous glance at Nima over her shoulder as the door closed.
Mom put down her pen, stood up and stretched, and said, "So what's your problem?"
"My problem?" Nima was on her feet. "Are you serious?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"Find your own path? That's what you said to Opal?"
"You have a problem with that?" Mom looked confused. "Are you angry about something?"
"What?" Nima threw her hands up. "I'm sorry, I forgot, you get to hold a grudge for thirty years, but I have to release my anger into the wind and be calm and peaceful." She wanted to shout, but she couldn't seem to raise her voice. "And Opal gets to find her own path, while I--"
She stopped, struggling to get air into her lungs. Her mother watched her, and there was a terrible understanding in her eyes.
"Go on," Mom said.
Nima paced, struggling for words. At last, she said, "My whole life, I've been preparing for the day I'll become the last airbender. For as long as I can remember, it's been my duty to learn about our heritage, because one day, I'll have to pass it on. One day, Dad will die, and whether I want to or not, I need to have kids, or else I'll be the last airbender. And I never questioned it, because I've never had a choice."
Mom sank slowly into her chair and said, "I didn't realise you felt that way."
"Neither did I. Until Harmonic Conversion came along, and suddenly I was … free." She stopped pacing, wrapping her arms around herself. "I thought I knew what my life would look like. Now … I have no idea."
"Does that scare you?" her mother asked.
"A little."
"But you're angry."
Nima nodded.
Mom held out her hand and indicated that Nima should sit. She obeyed, but resentfully. She felt like a child -- except that, even as a kid, she hadn't been allowed to behave like this.
"Jinora and I used to share everything," she said. "But now … I'm the airbender, but she's the one with the connection to the spirits. She's teaching the new airbenders -- she's doing my duty. I know I should be there, with her, but I … can't. And I don't even feel guilty about it. Just relief." She drew a deep, shuddering breath. "And now you go and tell Opal to find her own path. Why didn't you ever say that to me?"
Tears welled up in her eyes, and she wiped them impatiently. Mom had never been impressed by crying.
That thought gave her anger new life. Rage flared, bright and hot and unfamiliar.
"And while we're on the subject of hypocrisy," she said, before she could think better of it, "a month ago, Jinora was held prisoner in the Spirit World, and you wouldn't even set foot outside Republic City. But you'll drop everything to protect Korra from -- what?"
Mom had turned pale, the scars on her cheeks becoming mottled as her jaw set and her eyes narrowed.
"Korra," she said through gritted teeth, "is the Avatar. You think I didn't want to help Jinora? Staying in Republic City was the hardest thing I've ever done. You have no idea what it was like."
"I know it took you about an hour to decide to leave the city when you got Lord Zuko's message last week. And I know you forgot all about 'protecting the Avatar' when you got a chance to settle your grudge against your sister." This time, Nima didn't bother to wipe her tears away. "Just admit that we'll never be your highest priority. Aunt Su was right about one thing -- you are selfish."
The moment the words had left her mouth, she wished she could take them back. Mom looked stricken -- as white and unsteady as in the seconds before she had collapsed into Korra's arms yesterday.
Nima said, "I don't -- I didn't--"
Voice hoarse, her mother said, "I lost my bending. For you. I would have done anything to protect you from the Equalists, do you understand?" She advanced on Nima, who had to force herself to stand still, to not back away. "You're right. I'm selfish. You want to know the real reason I had you?"
"Grandpa Aang--"
"I didn't have you for Aang. I had you for me. It was my idea to have another baby. I love your sisters, but you -- I didn't have to be persuaded. You wouldn't exist if it weren't for me."
She put her hands on Nima's shoulders, her grip firm but gentle.
"When I was younger," she said, "all I wanted was to please Mom. But I was never good enough -- not as a cop, not as a metalbender."
Nima sniffled. "But you're an amazing bender."
"Not as good as Toph." Lin smiled sadly. "I never wanted my kids to feel like that. I guess I screwed up somewhere."
"I don't -- I mean -- what I said, I didn't mean it. I just wanted--"
Nima couldn't hold her tears back any longer. They ran down her cheeks, hot and wet, and her mother pulled her close. She buried her face in Mom's shoulder.
Her mother held her for a long time. When Nima had cried herself out, Mom released her, then stepped into the little kitchenette and started making tea.
Nima took a moment to wash her face. Her eyes were red and puffy, and she had a slight headache, but she also felt a peace which had eluded her for weeks.
When she emerged, it was to find Mom setting a pot of oolong tea on the low table. The tea cookies, she noted, were almond, her mother's favourite.
"In our guesthouse, Asami and I only have plain cookies and two kinds of green tea," she said, and reached for a tea cookie. Almond was her favourite, too. "I bet your closet just happened to be full of robes in your size."
Mom sipped her tea.
"I can't imagine going thirty years without talking to Jade or Jinora."
"Good." Mom put her cup down. "I never wanted you girls to end up like us." She gave Nima a crooked smile. "I want you to know, I'm very proud of you. I always have been."
Nima's throat tightened again.
"I haven't done anything to be proud of," she said.
Mom raised her eyebrows. "Risking your life to help Korra? Standing up to Unalaq's soldiers and the Dai Li?"
Nima shrugged. "Anyone would have done that."
"Nima." Her mother leaned forward, taking both her of hands in hers. "Trust me. You are brave and strong, and everything I wanted my kids to be. You're capable of great things -- and I don't just mean your bending."
Nima drew a deep, shuddering breath and said, "So I can become the first airbending accountant--"
"Of course."
"--or reporter … or police officer?"
Her mother gave her a penetrating look.
"Is that what you really want?"
"Maybe? I don't know."
"You don't have to decide right away." Mom released her, leaning back and retrieving her tea. "You're young. You've got time to change your mind. And if you did … I wouldn't be lining up to say I told you so."
"Is that what your mom did when you left the police force?"
"What do you think?"
"Right."
"I was determined not to repeat my mother's mistakes." Mom gave her a rueful smile. "So I made new ones. I'm sorry I didn't realise how trapped you felt."
"I didn't even know myself." Nima finished her tea. "I'm really sorry I called you selfish."
"You weren't … entirely wrong." Mom stood up. "I need a word with Korra. Coming?"
Nima followed her mother outside.
"I'll see you at lunch," she said, retrieving her glider. "I guess I need to think."
She launched herself into the air, ascending in spirals until she could see the whole city from above, shining in the sunlight.
They wouldn't stay in Zaofu much longer, she realised. Opal would go north in a few days, and Mom would go back to trying to force Korra to return to Republic City.
She'd go wherever Korra went, Nima decided. Probably in search of more airbenders, and never mind the danger.
But, she thought, twisting in the wind, maybe she'd write to Jinora.
end
Notes
This was, like, stupidly hard to write. So hard that I wound up creating three or four separate drafts -- some handwritten -- whereas usually I just do one draft, which I tweak until it looks like the story I imagined.
Anyway, if you're curious, this is the first draft -- it has much the same opening as this final version, but wound up being too much about Lin. I know, I know, such a thing seems impossible, right? More like, a lot of it was Lin telling Nima stuff we, the audience, already know, and Nima's part of the story was pushed too far into the background.
The next three drafts were all handwritten, and all started earlier in the story, the evening of Lin's collapse. But they all went completely off the rails, and the only element that survived was Nima being claustrophobic in Zaofu at night.
(Zaofu is just the worst.)
(Bit which I tried to keep but couldn't fit in: Nima realising it's much easier to pick a fight with Mako than Asami. But I think that goes without saying.)
Author: LizBee
Fandom: Legend of Korra
Characters and Pairing: Lin; Opal; OFC
Rating: All-ages
Summary: Nima confronts her mother in Zaofu.
Notes: "Old Wounds", the President Beifong AU version (sort of).
Nima flew over Suyin's estate until she found Opal practising basic airbending forms in the southern garden. Opal stopped when Nima landed, and her admiration as Nima twirled her glider was downright gratifying. It reminded Nima of herself, watching her dad with his own glider, not quite believing that one day she, too, would have that skill.
She folded her glider with a slightly bigger flourish than necessary, letting sunlight reflect off the metal latticework of the wings.
Opal laughed. "Now you're showing off," she said.
"Guilty." Nima sat down and motioned Opal to return to her practice. Watching her cousin's precise circle-walking, she said, "I saw you talking to Mom earlier. Do I have to apologise again?"
"No, she did that herself. We had a nice talk."
Nima raised her eyebrows. Ever since they landed in Zaofu two days ago, her mother had alternated between sulks and shouting, escalating into outright violence yesterday afternoon. In Nima's experience, her mother's bad moods -- and this was by far the worst she had ever seen -- rarely passed quickly.
"Really," said Opal. "She helped me a lot, actually."
"Huh."
Well, if Lin Beifong could let go of a decades-long grudge, Nima Beifong could do this.
She got to her feet, straightening her spine, trying to summon even a fraction of her father's dignity, and said, "I know your mother wants Korra to be your airbending master, but her Avatar duties won't let her stay at Zaofu for long. But I could. Stay here." She scraped her right thumbnail over the tip of the arrow tattoo on her left hand. "I mean, I'd be honoured to teach you. If you … want?"
Opal was smiling. In sympathy, not amusement. She was a year younger than Nima, but suddenly seemed much more mature. "Is that what you want?" she asked.
"Of course," said Nima. "I've always known I'd end up training new airbenders. At least, that was the hope. I was practically raised to be a teacher."
"So why aren't you at the Northern Air Temple with your dad and sister?"
Because I would rather eat my own fingernails.
"I thought my place was with Korra, finding airbenders. But now, I think I should be here."
"Oh." Opal sat down, motioning for Nima to join her. "I'm … going to the Northern Air Temple. After everything Aunt Lin told me, I realised that I couldn't stay in Zaofu just to please Mom."
Nima opened her mouth to say, "Huh," but no sound came out.
"Are you okay?"
"Yes. No. I'm confused. My parents are all about duty and service and doing what's expected. What did my mother say to you?" Her hand closed around Opal's wrist. "Tell me everything."
Opal looked startled, but she said, "Er, well, she said that when she was my age, she had her whole life planned out to please her mom. But she realised that was a mistake, and she didn't want me to go through that, I need to find my own path. And, oh, reasonable parents want their kids to make their own choices, so--"
Nima had heard enough. She was overcome by a wave of anger, like a sudden gale on an otherwise calm day.
"I have to go," she said, opening her glider. "Sorry, I just -- I need to--"
She couldn't form words, so she gave Opal a weak shrug and took to the air.
Nima found her mother in her guesthouse, going through a pile of papers with a young woman from Republic City's consulate. An ordinary scene, except that Mom was wearing Zaofu-style robes.
Nima thought she had let go of her anger on the short flight over the estate, but seeing her mother reawakened it. She paced while Mom spoke to her aide, silently listing all the things she hated about Zaofu: the ubiquitous robes; the domes, which left the city claustrophobic and airless at night; the sheer fact that it called itself a city at all, with its monotonous streets and buildings her age or younger. Not to mention Aiwei's claim that there were no secrets in Zaofu. That was the kind of thing people said when they had something to hide.
And, in the three days since they had arrived in Zaofu, her mother had gone from sulks to violence. And now she was a smiling stranger who hummed under her breath as she worked, and dispensed advice like, Find your own path.
Nima's huff of irritation disturbed the papers on her mother's desk. Without looking up, Mom said, "If you can't sit still, you can wait outside."
Nima had been hearing that refrain for as long as she could remember, but, for the first time in years, it stung. She sat down, arms crossed, knees apart, taking up as much space as she could while she waited for her mother to finish.
Apparently Zaofu hadn't actually transformed her mother. It just … brought out something that was already there. Like Jinora's connection to the spirits in the weeks before Harmonic Conversion.
She didn't want to think about Jinora, off at the Northern Air Temple. But it was too late. Nima raked her hand through her short curls.
They used to be mistaken for twins, until, at fifteen, Nima had shaved her head and received her tattoos. Something changed after that. For the first time, she had gone where her sister couldn't follow. And she'd kept her hair short ever since.
You chose to be here. You can go to the Northern Air Temple with Opal and take your place at Dad's side like a proper little Air Nomad.
Whatever Jinora had felt when Nima got her tattoos, she kept it to herself. But Nima had barely been able to look at her since she had admitted to her connection with the spirits.
She didn't ask for it. You didn't want it.
It didn't seem to matter.
With an effort, she unclenched her fists.
Eventually, Mom fixed her seal to the final document and handed it to her aide, saying, "This folder should be delivered by hand to the Vice President. The rest can go in the diplomatic pouch. Don't confuse them."
"No, Madame President," said the aide.
"I don't need to remind you of the importance of discretion. If anyone finds out where the Avatar and I am--"
"I know, ma'am. The consul made it very clear."
"Good." Mom nodded at the door. "Go."
The aide fled, casting a nervous glance at Nima over her shoulder as the door closed.
Mom put down her pen, stood up and stretched, and said, "So what's your problem?"
"My problem?" Nima was on her feet. "Are you serious?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"Find your own path? That's what you said to Opal?"
"You have a problem with that?" Mom looked confused. "Are you angry about something?"
"What?" Nima threw her hands up. "I'm sorry, I forgot, you get to hold a grudge for thirty years, but I have to release my anger into the wind and be calm and peaceful." She wanted to shout, but she couldn't seem to raise her voice. "And Opal gets to find her own path, while I--"
She stopped, struggling to get air into her lungs. Her mother watched her, and there was a terrible understanding in her eyes.
"Go on," Mom said.
Nima paced, struggling for words. At last, she said, "My whole life, I've been preparing for the day I'll become the last airbender. For as long as I can remember, it's been my duty to learn about our heritage, because one day, I'll have to pass it on. One day, Dad will die, and whether I want to or not, I need to have kids, or else I'll be the last airbender. And I never questioned it, because I've never had a choice."
Mom sank slowly into her chair and said, "I didn't realise you felt that way."
"Neither did I. Until Harmonic Conversion came along, and suddenly I was … free." She stopped pacing, wrapping her arms around herself. "I thought I knew what my life would look like. Now … I have no idea."
"Does that scare you?" her mother asked.
"A little."
"But you're angry."
Nima nodded.
Mom held out her hand and indicated that Nima should sit. She obeyed, but resentfully. She felt like a child -- except that, even as a kid, she hadn't been allowed to behave like this.
"Jinora and I used to share everything," she said. "But now … I'm the airbender, but she's the one with the connection to the spirits. She's teaching the new airbenders -- she's doing my duty. I know I should be there, with her, but I … can't. And I don't even feel guilty about it. Just relief." She drew a deep, shuddering breath. "And now you go and tell Opal to find her own path. Why didn't you ever say that to me?"
Tears welled up in her eyes, and she wiped them impatiently. Mom had never been impressed by crying.
That thought gave her anger new life. Rage flared, bright and hot and unfamiliar.
"And while we're on the subject of hypocrisy," she said, before she could think better of it, "a month ago, Jinora was held prisoner in the Spirit World, and you wouldn't even set foot outside Republic City. But you'll drop everything to protect Korra from -- what?"
Mom had turned pale, the scars on her cheeks becoming mottled as her jaw set and her eyes narrowed.
"Korra," she said through gritted teeth, "is the Avatar. You think I didn't want to help Jinora? Staying in Republic City was the hardest thing I've ever done. You have no idea what it was like."
"I know it took you about an hour to decide to leave the city when you got Lord Zuko's message last week. And I know you forgot all about 'protecting the Avatar' when you got a chance to settle your grudge against your sister." This time, Nima didn't bother to wipe her tears away. "Just admit that we'll never be your highest priority. Aunt Su was right about one thing -- you are selfish."
The moment the words had left her mouth, she wished she could take them back. Mom looked stricken -- as white and unsteady as in the seconds before she had collapsed into Korra's arms yesterday.
Nima said, "I don't -- I didn't--"
Voice hoarse, her mother said, "I lost my bending. For you. I would have done anything to protect you from the Equalists, do you understand?" She advanced on Nima, who had to force herself to stand still, to not back away. "You're right. I'm selfish. You want to know the real reason I had you?"
"Grandpa Aang--"
"I didn't have you for Aang. I had you for me. It was my idea to have another baby. I love your sisters, but you -- I didn't have to be persuaded. You wouldn't exist if it weren't for me."
She put her hands on Nima's shoulders, her grip firm but gentle.
"When I was younger," she said, "all I wanted was to please Mom. But I was never good enough -- not as a cop, not as a metalbender."
Nima sniffled. "But you're an amazing bender."
"Not as good as Toph." Lin smiled sadly. "I never wanted my kids to feel like that. I guess I screwed up somewhere."
"I don't -- I mean -- what I said, I didn't mean it. I just wanted--"
Nima couldn't hold her tears back any longer. They ran down her cheeks, hot and wet, and her mother pulled her close. She buried her face in Mom's shoulder.
Her mother held her for a long time. When Nima had cried herself out, Mom released her, then stepped into the little kitchenette and started making tea.
Nima took a moment to wash her face. Her eyes were red and puffy, and she had a slight headache, but she also felt a peace which had eluded her for weeks.
When she emerged, it was to find Mom setting a pot of oolong tea on the low table. The tea cookies, she noted, were almond, her mother's favourite.
"In our guesthouse, Asami and I only have plain cookies and two kinds of green tea," she said, and reached for a tea cookie. Almond was her favourite, too. "I bet your closet just happened to be full of robes in your size."
Mom sipped her tea.
"I can't imagine going thirty years without talking to Jade or Jinora."
"Good." Mom put her cup down. "I never wanted you girls to end up like us." She gave Nima a crooked smile. "I want you to know, I'm very proud of you. I always have been."
Nima's throat tightened again.
"I haven't done anything to be proud of," she said.
Mom raised her eyebrows. "Risking your life to help Korra? Standing up to Unalaq's soldiers and the Dai Li?"
Nima shrugged. "Anyone would have done that."
"Nima." Her mother leaned forward, taking both her of hands in hers. "Trust me. You are brave and strong, and everything I wanted my kids to be. You're capable of great things -- and I don't just mean your bending."
Nima drew a deep, shuddering breath and said, "So I can become the first airbending accountant--"
"Of course."
"--or reporter … or police officer?"
Her mother gave her a penetrating look.
"Is that what you really want?"
"Maybe? I don't know."
"You don't have to decide right away." Mom released her, leaning back and retrieving her tea. "You're young. You've got time to change your mind. And if you did … I wouldn't be lining up to say I told you so."
"Is that what your mom did when you left the police force?"
"What do you think?"
"Right."
"I was determined not to repeat my mother's mistakes." Mom gave her a rueful smile. "So I made new ones. I'm sorry I didn't realise how trapped you felt."
"I didn't even know myself." Nima finished her tea. "I'm really sorry I called you selfish."
"You weren't … entirely wrong." Mom stood up. "I need a word with Korra. Coming?"
Nima followed her mother outside.
"I'll see you at lunch," she said, retrieving her glider. "I guess I need to think."
She launched herself into the air, ascending in spirals until she could see the whole city from above, shining in the sunlight.
They wouldn't stay in Zaofu much longer, she realised. Opal would go north in a few days, and Mom would go back to trying to force Korra to return to Republic City.
She'd go wherever Korra went, Nima decided. Probably in search of more airbenders, and never mind the danger.
But, she thought, twisting in the wind, maybe she'd write to Jinora.
end
Notes
This was, like, stupidly hard to write. So hard that I wound up creating three or four separate drafts -- some handwritten -- whereas usually I just do one draft, which I tweak until it looks like the story I imagined.
Anyway, if you're curious, this is the first draft -- it has much the same opening as this final version, but wound up being too much about Lin. I know, I know, such a thing seems impossible, right? More like, a lot of it was Lin telling Nima stuff we, the audience, already know, and Nima's part of the story was pushed too far into the background.
The next three drafts were all handwritten, and all started earlier in the story, the evening of Lin's collapse. But they all went completely off the rails, and the only element that survived was Nima being claustrophobic in Zaofu at night.
(Zaofu is just the worst.)
(Bit which I tried to keep but couldn't fit in: Nima realising it's much easier to pick a fight with Mako than Asami. But I think that goes without saying.)
no subject
Date: 2017-09-14 10:38 pm (UTC)That is exactly how Lin would handle things as a mother. And you know my feelings about baby/kidfic, but I genuinely enjoy you writing Lin as a parent; it suits her while still being true to her hard-edged character.
no subject
Date: 2017-09-14 11:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-09-15 04:22 am (UTC)