What happens when Bolg's father gets accepted as his high school's new math teacher? https://archiveofourown.org/works/31756993 -----------------------------------------------------------------------------
When Bolg heard the news his father had been accepted as The Middle-earth Academy for Cooperation and Mutual Success’ new math teacher, two things popped into his mind. The first being that he would allow no one to learn the new math teacher was his father and the second being he was going to avoid the math department as much as possible when he arrived at The Middle-earth Academy for Cooperation and Mutual Success (or MACMutS as everybody called it) in the Fall for his second year of high school. “I can’t believe it!” Azog, Bolg’s father, exclaimed in Orkish as he pointed at his computer screen (and, yes, Orcs did have internet) for the seventeenth time. Bolg, who sat at the kitchen table, nodded. He stared through the entrance of their home at the mountains in the distance. The ridges’ dark colors were comforting like the soup his father made during the Winter months. All the Orcs in their commune always jostled over to their dwelling as soon as they smelled the aroma of Azog’s signature dish seeping out of the little hut. With his dad now working at MACMutS full-time, Bolg wondered how their comrades would fare without him. “This is wonderful,” Azog babbled on. “I’m finally going to meet new people, make connections, and see the world!” ~~~ A month and eleven days later, Azog and Bolg were off to see the world, or rather off to travel by train for eight hours and seven minutes to get to Gondor from Gundabad. After a little hassle at the train station to get a taxi to Minas Tirith (the problem was that Orcs didn’t have a system based on currency, so it was a bit hard to convince a Human driver to take them for free. Azog eventually just gave the Human his phone number and promised to do car maintenance for no charge at any time. Bolg was a bit skeptical how this could happen since Azog didn’t own any equipment to do car repairs, but the driver accepted the deal, so Bolg stayed silent), they arrived just outside the school’s main gates. “How did you get here last time?” Azog huffed as he pulled the last of the luggage out of the taxi and waved the driver goodbye. Azog had brought an extra luggage bag just for his cooking ingredients to his son’s disapproval. Bolg scratched his pale bald head. He didn’t want to admit he had relied on a Dwarvish prince he had met on the train to pay for his fare. “Uh, I just gave the driver the rest of the snacks you had packed me.” “This will need to change,” Azog declared. “I will speak to the administration and make sure they give Orc students a pass to get free taxi rides. This school is supposed to be the symbol of acceptance and how can it live up to that ideal when it’s a financial struggle for some of their students to even get here.” Bolg had stopped listening to his father as he noticed a few other students, non-Orcs who were probably First Years, gaping in their direction. He could somewhat understand their astonishment. Orcs only left their secluded communities for political or educational reasons and it had been over three hundred years since any major force of Orcs had participated in the continent’s wars. Still, Orcs weren’t that rare. If anything, they were much more numerous than Elves. Maybe they come from rural communities. Wait, why am I making excuses for them? They shouldn’t be staring. He glared at them and they hastily turned their gazes away. “Well, Bolg, I’ll let you go to your dorm room. It’s a shame that you aren’t in any of my classes, but I will certainly see you around!” As he trudged away from his father, Bolg prayed they would never cross paths inside the school. ~~~ “Bolg, what do you think of the new math teacher?” Rosie Cotton, a Hobbit in his year and one of his new dorm hallmates, asked as they headed off to the cafeteria together. The height difference was considerable between the two of them and Bolg had to bend down to hear her. The good thing was Rosie usually just chattered on without waiting for Bolg to reply, so if he missed a few words here and there, it was rarely an issue. Bolg squinted his eyes against the late Summer sun, which was still bright despite the fact it was nearly evening. Orc eyes aren’t meant for this much luminosity. A pang of homesickness shot through him as he missed the cool, dark mountains around Gundabad. “Yeah, I think it’s great the school is hiring an Orc to be on their faculty.” He felt appreciative that Orcs didn’t have last names. No one had to know that Azog was his father and he preferred not to answer questions about how Orcs were birthed. “Me, too! The school has been pretty good about having a diverse set of teachers and administrators, so it’s about time they hired an Orc. Ooh, I heard from Fredegar Bolger…” And Rosie rambled on until they arrived at the dining commons and went their separate ways. After Bolg had picked up a steaming bowl of rabbit soup, he found his way over to his friends. It had been a couple months since he had spoken to any of them. While he did have internet back home, the connection wasn’t strong enough for video chatting. “Bolg,” Gothmog cried, slapping his fat peach-colored hand against Bolg’s back as Bolg slid down on the bench beside the Mordorian Orc. “Good to see you. I was worried that you were never going to show up.” “What, Gothmog? I was just finishing unpacking.” Bolg glanced at the other people at the table. There was Yazneg, an Orc from Moria, Shagrat, a Black Uruk from Cirith Ungol, and three dwarves from the Lonely Mountain who were all related and named Bifur, Bofur, and Bumbur. Off at the edge of the table was their year’s loner, a Human named Aragorn. Rumor had it that Aragorn had been raised by Elves, but had been kicked out for undisclosed reasons. He currently lived as a nomad among the Rangers of the North. The theories for why the Elves supposedly shunned Aragorn were vast and Bolg, despite having sat at the same dining table as the boy everyday of the last school year, still had no knowledge of Aragorn’s true history. Bolg only half-listened to his friends as he slurped his stew. Shagrat complained about the creepy giant spider that lived next to his commune’s settlement. The dwarfs discussed how the mining expenditures in the East were progressing. Not like the Orcs really cared as money meant little to them. “Y’know that new math teacher?” Yazneg’s voice jolted through his ears. Bolg spit his stew back into his bowl. The others, even Aragorn, stared at Bolg. “You okay, buddy?” Bofur asked, his dark brown eyes brimming with worry. Bolg took a steady breath and placed his bowl back down onto the table with a soft clink. “Y-yes. Um, what were you saying about the new math teacher, Yazneg?” Yazneg frowned, but carried on. “I was just gonna say that when I mentioned his name to my commune, they said that he was originally from Moria, but moved to Gundabad when he was young. I just found it kinda strange. For you non-Orcs, it’s rare that one of us leaves the place where we’re from. Bolg, you’re from Gundabad. Do you know anything about Azog?” Once again, all eyes were on him. Bolg chewed his lip. “Uh, I don’t think so.” Everyone continued to peer at him until Gothmog broke the silence by bragging about a difficult wrestling tournament he had won over the Summer. Bolg’s secret was safe. ~~~ At least that’s what he had thought. They had all finished eating and saying their goodbyes. Bolg had been heading over to catch up with Rosie who was exiting the dining hall by herself when he felt a firm hand grasp his wrist. Tense, he twisted around to see Aragorn looking up at him with narrowed eyes. Bolg trembled and had to remind himself that he was a Gundabad Orc and Gundabad Orcs weren’t scared of anything. “Why didn’t you tell them that Azog is your father?” Aragorn asked in a low voice. Bolg glanced around him to make sure there were no onlookers. Fortunately, most other students were too occupied catching up with their friends and eating to notice Bolg and Aragorn. “I-I...How did you know?” Aragorn shrugged. “I’ve heard about your father before. As Yazneg says, it’s rare for an Orc to leave their commune.” “You Rangers spy on us?” “You’re not answering my question.” Aragorn released Bolg’s wrist. Bolg rubbed it. Aragorn had been gripping his wrist tight. “Do I have to? You never tell anyone your history, so why should I tell you mine?” The Human sighed. “Fair point. Okay, keep your secrets to yourself, but don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone else.” With that, Aragorn strode away. ~~~ Why did Bolg want to keep his father’s identity a secret? Aragorn’s question rattled Bolg’s brain for the rest of the night. Luckily, if his roommate Faramir noticed, he didn’t say anything as they both prepared for bed. Bolg lay on his mattress, staring at the darkness glittering around him. He had chosen the bed farthest from the window because light and Orcs didn’t exactly mix, but the usual comfort gloom gave him wasn’t there. He turned onto his side again, the frame creaking underneath him as he moved. “Hey, Bolg, are you alright?” On the other side of the room, the lamp flicked on, spreading glaring light across the open space. Bolg sat up and twisted around to see Faramir peering at him. The young Human’s long dark hair was a bit tussled from lying down and his gray eyes appeared concerned. Bolg didn’t know much about his roommate beyond the fact he was the Gondorian steward’s son. He had thought it was a bit strange that Faramir had chosen to stay on campus when he lived not too far away in a palace, but decided he wasn’t in a place to question a noble’s decision. “Yeah, I-I’m fine,” Bolg stammered. “Just wanted to make sure since you’ve moved around at least five times now.” Nine, Bolg thought to himself. “Yeah, everything’s good. I’m just stressing about something stupid. Not something anybody would care to listen to.” “Try me. I’ve been told I’m a good listener.” The Human gave a little smile. Bolg had never talked to anybody about his feelings before. It wasn’t something accepted in Orkish culture. If you had an issue, you just complained about the person closest in proximity to you and then wrestled with them until you felt better. Bolg didn’t feel like wrestling with Faramir. “Um, well, it’s about a certain someone. I don’t want anyone knowing about my, uh, connection to them because it’s just so embarrassing and he’s just so embarrassing and he doesn’t exactly fit certain standards and I think everybody would think I’m weird for being connected to him and then it...I would be a mess…” Bolg stared at the ground. He was so glad that Orcs didn’t blush or he would be bright red right now. “You have a crush on someone?” Faramir asked, his eyebrows raised. “It’s fine if you do. Feeling embarrassed about crushes is normal and you never know, maybe he likes you back. If you want help reaching out to him, whoever he is, I can help out-” “No,” Bolg interjected. Another wave of gratefulness for Orcs’ inability to blush sparked through him. “It’s not a crush. It’s my...father.” Getting that last word out felt like trying to push Mount Gundabad over a few inches. “Oh.” “Yeah.” Bolg turned his attention to a tiny moth fluttering by Faramir’s lamp. “He’s the new math teacher.” “Azog? Oh, I have him.” “I mean, he’s energetic and strong and cares a lot about education, but he’s a bit bizarre in terms of Orkish culture. He wants to explore the world and meet new people and...he has a kid.” “Is having a kid a bad thing? Sorry, I don’t know much about Orkish culture.” Faramir gazed at the floor. “Orcs don’t really have families. We’re kind of born the size of adults and just integrated into our communes immediately. I mean, we still mature over time like other species do, but we don’t have parents. The fact my dad decided to raise me on his own is strange and we keep it a secret in our commune to avoid being shamed by other Orcs.” “Born the size of adults,” Faramir murmured. “Don’t think about it too much.” Bolg rubbed his head. “Sorry to bother you with this. I should have kept it to myself.” The Human glanced up at Bolg. “No, no. It’s alright. How can I support you?” Bolg blinked at Faramir. “Do you think I should tell my friends?” Faramir sighed. “It’s up to you to do what you think is best, but if they’re good friends, then I’m sure they’ll support you.” ~~~ Bolg prayed Faramir was right as he sat down at the dining table the next morning. He had arrived at the cafeteria on the earlier side, hoping that the quieter atmosphere would calm his nerves before he spoke to his friends. “Bolg, you’re early!” A voice cried out behind him in heavily accented Orkish. Bolg twisted around to see Gothmog striding toward him. They rarely spoke Orkish to one another since the Gundabad and Mordorian dialects were, for the most, mutually unintelligible. “Yeah,” Bolg replied in Common Speech. He fiddled with the fork he was using to eat his breakfast patties. Gothmog took a seat beside him. “The cooks are trying out this new soup. Apparently they got the recipe from the new math teacher. He even donated his ingredients to them. It’s a Winter soup, but technically can be made year-round.” Sure enough, the distinct aroma of his father’s signature dish swarmed Bolg’s senses. “Is that a tear? Orcs don’t cry, silly.” Bolg turned away from his friend. More tears wracked though his body and hiccups escaped through his mouth. His stomach burned inside of him and he craved to crawl into a nice, dark hole. Gothmog began slapping his back. “Uh, Bolg? You okay? Are you allergic to the soup? Do you want to wrestle?” A chorus of footsteps sounded behind Bolg. “What’s going on?” Came Bofur’s excited voice. Even more tears gushed from Bolg’s eyelids. “Dunno,” He heard Yaznag say. “I’ve never seen an Orc act like that,” blurted Shagrat. “Maybe he needs a good chokehold.” “I don’t think that will help him,” Aragorn muttered. Bolg shoved his platter of food away and pushed his face against the table's hard surface. Gothmog continued to clobber his back. “Hey, Bolg, what’s going on? Are you alright?” Rosie’s breath tickled his arm. He hadn’t even heard her step by. “Should we get a teacher?” Bumbur asked. “Mister Azog, over here!” Bofur shouted. Bolg could hear what was most likely Bifur, Bofur’s mute cousin, jumping up and down to wave over the educator. Heavy footsteps clomped in Bolg’s direction. “Hey, son, what’s going on?” Azog asked in Orkish. “Wait, Mister Azog is your father?” Yazneg asked in Common Speech. “Orcs don’t have fathers, silly,” Gothmog said in between wacks. Strength surged through Bolg’s body and he sat up. Taking a deep breath, he wiped away his tears. With a single hand, he knocked Gothmog over onto the ground. Rosie, Bofur, and Bumbur all gasped. “It’s true,” Bolg said. He peered at his father who stood by the other side of the table. “The new math teacher is my father.”
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Zuko finally attends one of his private bending academy's dances and realizes something important. https://archiveofourown.org/works/27660980 ________________________________
The only reason Zuko was at the Spring Festival Dance was because of his uncle. He had skipped every single one of the thousand other school events that had been tossed at him. The Golden Dragon Dance. The Moon Spirit Dance. All those assemblies on bullying and mental health. It was humiliating enough being the rejected son of the Fire Lord. Zuko didn’t need his peers gawking at him as well. The one good thing Zuko could say about the Spring Festival Dance was that it was outside. His fellow high schoolers were too busy gazing at the red, purple, and blue fireworks twinkling in the night sky above them to give him any attention. He could blend in with the other Freshmen of the International Bending Academy for once. “Hey, Zuko.” Or not. He twisted to his right to see the pretty Earthbender Jin from his class striding over to him with a cup of tea in her hands. In the distance, he could see his uncle’s stand lit up by ruby lanterns and he could almost smell the sweet and bitter aroma of the leaves Iroh used in his drinks. As Jin approached, Zuko’s cheeks felt hot and he fought the urge to step back toward the school buildings behind him. It’s just Jin. He gave the girl a curt nod. A slight breeze drifted over his skin and he felt glad for the moment of relief. It could get quite warm in the Fire Nation. “Zuko,” Jin said. Thanks to the line of lampposts tracing the dance area, Zuko could make out a smile on her tan cheeks. “You should come join in the dancing. It’s fun.” He glanced at the large crowd of people swaying in front of him. He shook his head. “I don’t think anybody would want to see me dancing.” Jin peered at him with sad eyes. He hated that she seemed to pity him. He suddenly felt self-conscious of the scar that striked the left side of his face and he turned his head away from the girl. A boom shattered the silence as a red firework burst in the air, painting the people and grass below a pinkish hue. Beyond the crowds, the sparkling lights, the lanterns, Zuko could see the ocean murmuring in the background. The salty air stung his nose and he imagined that he could see the edge of the Earth Kingdom teetering before him. It had never made sense to him that the private bending high school he attended was in the Fire Nation. It made more sense for the international academy to be in the United Republic. It’s just another way my country is trying to regain the power it’s lost in the decades since the Hundred Year War. “Your uncle’s tea is very good,” Jin said. Her light voice could barely be heard through the quaking of the fireworks. Annoyance crept into Zuko’s mind. He didn’t understand why this girl wasn’t leaving and he definitely did not want to discuss his uncle with her. “He’s a great guidance counselor, too,” Jin continued. “He helped me feel less homesick this year.” The word “home” felt like a dagger twisting in Zuko’s gut. He was sure Jin had a lovely home in the Earth Kingdom that possessed a family who missed her, but wanted her to have the opportunity to attend the most prestigious bending academy in the six nations. She probably didn’t belong to a family that made money raging useless border skirmishes with other countries or trying to return to a time that was long gone. Jin didn’t have to worry about other people staring at her because her trauma had been made public. A purple firework thrummed in the sky and rocked Zuko out of his thoughts. He focused on his fellow students’ laughter as they jumped around before him. He saw friends hugging one another with grins splashed on their cheeks. He cringed at the couples kissing along the fringes of the crowd. He smirked as teenagers’ stepped on one another’s toes and as his classmates snorted with exhilaration. The scene appeared beautiful in an amusing, chaotic way. Everyone was simply trying to dance and belong. “You should go, Jin,” Zuko said. He made sure his voice was loud enough to be heard over the crackling of the fireworks. “Your friends are probably wondering where you are.” Jim smiled at him and took a sip from her teacup. The sleeves of her mint green dress fell down to her elbows. “You know, Zuko. You can dance, too. I’m sure my friends wouldn’t mind.” Zuko felt himself blushing again and he fought the urge to fiddle with the ends of the red dress shirt he wore. Why was Jin being so nice to him? She, like everyone else in this school, this whole world rather, knew that he was rejected, knew that his father had scarred him. Zuko was only here because his uncle had been the one person willing to care for a disgraced prince. He only came to this dance because that same uncle had requested him to be there. His country was a mess disguised as perfection and everything about this school felt wrong. Still, as Jin beamed at him with his uncle’s tea in her hands, Zuko felt something. Something he hadn’t felt since he was eleven years old. He felt that he mattered. That somebody cared for him. He shook his head at Jin. “Thank you, but I… I have to go. I have something to do.” Jin nodded at him, her face slightly downcast. “Well, I’ll see you in class.” She gave a little bow to him before scurrying off in the direction of the crowd. Zuko watched as the kind girl dashed away. Once she had disappeared into the masses, he turned around and headed toward the lone teastand at the edge of the grassy area. Another sea breeze tangled around his legs and the brimy air soothed him. A blue firework dazzled the night sky. After what felt like hours, Zuko arrived in front of his uncle’s stand. His uncle looked up at him, his amber eyes welled with concern. A boiling kettle of tea wheezed on the platform between them. “Hey, Uncle,” Zuko said. “Do you want help serving tea?” Iroh grinned. While at their private bending academy’s swimming pool, Kyoshi and Rangi spend the night being honest with one another. https://archiveofourown.org/works/26923303
________________________________________________________________ “Are you sure this is okay?” Kyoshi asked as she tiptoed out into the quiet swimming pool area. Her dark green bathing suit shimmered under the orange lights lining the white-tiled walls. Above her, the deep night sky seemed to glisten against the glass ceiling. Yet, a spiderweb of poles wove its way through the transparent surface as if to remind Kyoshi that while the sky appeared touchable, it still was far away. Rangi laughed at her with a grin spreading across her pale face. For once, the Fire Nation girl seemed at ease in the private high school. She strode out of the hallway leading to the pool and stepped onto the smooth mosaic floor of the swimming area. “Of course. I wouldn’t have suggested this if we weren’t allowed to be here. My mom is the headmistress of this bending academy. I would be shaming her and the institution if I broke any rules. Plus, everybody is at the Spring Festival Dance. It’s rare we get the pool to ourselves and we should take advantage of this opportunity.” A smile flickered onto Kyoshi’s face and she followed her friend. The humid air brushed against her tan cheeks and the cool tiles, all possessing symbols of the four elements, soothed her feet. She made her way to the steps of the rectangular pool’s shallow end. Rangi was already sitting at the top of the steps with her feet dipped into the turquoise water. The chlorine scent of the liquid trickled into Kyoshi’s nostrils and she scrunched her nose. Sighing, she took her spot to the right of her friend. The smooth water refreshed Kyoshi’s ankles and calves. With the private school being in the Fire Nation, Kyoshi had been spending so much time in the humidity. It was nice having the chance to enjoy the cold. “Do you miss the Earth Kingdom?” Rangi’s question surprised Kyoshi. The two girls had only known each other for less than a year and although they had bonded quickly, as they both were in the same class and felt ostracized by their peers, they still hadn’t discussed anything that deep. Kyoshi retained her private nature and Rangi seemed too proud to break down and confess all of her emotions. Kyoshi hadn’t admitted much about her home situation to Rangi. “Yeah,” Kyoshi said. It wasn’t exactly the truth, but it wasn’t a lie either. She did not miss the political chaos of her nation or the bullies at her public middle and elementary schools. For all she cared, those frustrating things could disappear into the dark night sky with the clouds. What Kyoshi did yearn for was to be back in her little apartment with her adoptive father. She missed his heartfelt embraces and his cheerful singing. She craved to go to the fruit stand again with him after a long day at school and ramble to him while knowing he was holding onto her every word. Rangi nodded beside Kyoshi. A strand of her black hair fell out of her topknot and brushed against her red swimsuit. Kyoshi frowned. It was rare to see Rangi so relaxed. “I miss my home, too,” Rangi said. “I mean, it must be harder for you coming from another continent, but I can understand at least some of what you’re feeling. At the same time, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to go home. Not truly.” Kyoshi raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?” Rangi glanced down at the shiny pool water. “I guess because… home for me still has my father in it.” The Firebender sighed. “I love my mother, but it’s no secret we argue a lot. Everything was just so much more innocent when I was young.” Kyoshi didn’t know what to say. She was unaccustomed to Rangi being so honest to her about her feelings. She was used to her friend reprimanding her for being too quiet in class or for being too demure in firebending practice. So Kyoshi stayed silent. “I know I’m fifteen now and I have to be a good example, a good Firebender, a good daughter. Maybe what I need is a break, time off from any responsibility.” Rangi stared up at the windows above them. Kyoshi hated seeing Rangi so miserable. She drummed her fingers against the sleek blue tiles on the rim of the pool. “I would like that, too,” she said quietly. “A break, I mean. Can I tell you something that you promise you won’t tell anyone else?” Rangi’s dark bronze eyes met Kyoshi’s green. “Of course. I trust that you won’t tell anyone what I just said.” Gratification twirled in Kyoshi’s mind. Rangi trusted her. “My adoptive father… he’s an Air Nomad and he doesn’t have that much money. Sometimes I fear that one mistake could get me kicked out of this school.” Rangi shifted a little closer toward Kyoshi. Kyoshi observed the miniature ripples gliding through the water as her and Rangi’s feet swayed back and forth. “I don’t want to go back to the school in my village. They bullied me for the silliest of things.” She gave a humorless chuckle. “For being too tall, too shy. It’s easier to pretend to be invisible here.” Rangi’s warm hand grasped Kyoshi’s wrist. “You don’t have to be invisible around me.” Kyoshi blinked at Rangi and a smile slipped onto her lips. “And you don’t have to be perfect around me.” For a moment, they sat there staring at one another with the only sound being the murmur of the water. “Can I kiss you?” Rangi asked, her voice sincere. “Yes, you can,” Kyoshi said. She was astonished by how certain she felt. Rangi laughed. “Well, do ten laps back and forth first. I know you know how to swim. As an Avatar, you’re a Waterbender.” Groaning, Kyoshi dove into the waves. As the cool water embraced her, she felt like she was floating among the stars. She had Rangi and, amazingly, she had hope. While her father and home were far away, she knew she could find comfort in this moment with her girlfriend. |
AboutI'm Darcy Aisling, just a Chinese adoptee living in a big world. They/them This blog serves as place for me to share my thoughts and stories surrounding adoption. To read more of my reviews and fanfiction, head off to Goodreads and Archive of Our Own. To view more of my stories, visit Wattpad.
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