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hi >3 i'm ash | twenty-two | she/her
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when FIRELORD ZUKO takes a liking to AVATAR AANG'S mysterious new BRIDE.
TORN BETWEEN TWO ROADS ! — aang x reader x zuko
PLOT. republic city is finally at peace, and katara allows herself to hope that maybe now, after everything, she and aang can finally become something real. but when aang returns after eight months, he isn’t alone. he comes back with you at his side, introducing you as his wife. suspicious yet helpless, his friends do their best to welcome you, even as nothing about this sudden marriage makes sense. but while everyone else keeps their distance, one person doesn’t. and perhaps Zuko gets a little too comfortable with the avatar’s new wife.
CHARACTERS. AANG and ZUKO.
WARNINGS. 18+, mdni, smut, angst, takes place 10 years after atla, age gaps. reader is 21, dark themes, sexual assault, mentions of rape (not aang or zuko dw), established relationship, yearner aang, infidelity, depression, mentions of suicide, fem reader, atla spoilers, no spoilers for legend of aang, not canon compliant to legend of korra, wip.
masterlist
CHAPTER ONE
WARNINGS. 18+, mdni, angst, takes place 10 years after atla, age gaps. reader is 21, established relationship, fem reader, atla spoilers, no spoilers for legend of aang but follows the characters, not canon compliant to legend of korra, not proofread.
CHAPTER TWO
WARNINGS. 18+, mdni, angst, takes place 10 years after atla, age gaps. reader is 21, established relationship, mean sokka (no hate for him please, i am just a bitch hahah), little arguing (lowkey fight), fem reader, atla spoilers, no spoilers for legend of aang, not proofread.
CHAPTER THREE
WARNINGS. 18+, mdni, angst, some 'arguing' with zuko, takes place 10 years after atla, age gaps, reader is 21, established relationship, fem reader, atla spoilers, no spoilers for legend of aang, not proofread.
CHAPTER FOUR
WARNINGS. 18+, mdni, smut, angst, hurt with comfort, small argument (i don't think it even counts), penetration sex, no protection (do they even have protection?), my own version of plan b used, pregnancy talks, slightly insecure reader (regarding katara), takes place 10 years after atla, age gaps, reader is 21, established relationship, fem reader, atla spoilers, no spoilers for legend of aang, kinda proofread.
CHAPTER FIVE
WARNINGS. 18+, mdni, angst, implied sexual assault, fight with zuko, zuko is kind of a prick ngl, protective aang, takes place 10 years after atla, age gaps, reader is 21, established relationship, fem reader, atla spoilers, no spoilers for legend of aang, not proofread.
CHAPTER SIX
WARNINGS. 18+, mdni, angst, blood, stab wound, cauterization, lots of fire, a little tension, takes place 10 years after atla, age gaps, reader is 21, established relationship, fem reader, atla spoilers, no spoilers for legend of aang, not proofread.
CHAPTER SEVEN
WARNINGS. 18+, mdni, slight panic attack, a very bad injury (not detailed), takes place 10 years after atla, age gaps, reader is 21, established relationship, fem reader, atla spoilers, no spoilers for legend of aang, not proofread.
CHAPTER EIGHT
WARNINGS. 18+, mdni, alcohol consumption, underage drinking (?) [idk their legal age for drinking, but in this fic it's 21], takes place 10 years after atla, age gaps, reader is 21, established relationship, fem reader, atla spoilers, no spoilers for legend of aang, not proofread.
content: aang! x black!reader, suggestive sexual intimacy,
pre-established relationship, newlyweds, fluff, reader has coily hair and is accomplished painter and water-bender
word count: 10.5k
synopsis: Aang and reader travel to a sky archipelago for their honeymoon enjoying the journey along the way
A/N: I love Aang so much the way he shows love really resonates with me! I would do anything to be katara right now! I really enjoyed writing this I think it's my most creative and longest fic so far! I didn't expect it to be this long when I started but I wanted to give things enough time to breathe hopefully that translates.
big thanks to @duffymaycry for proofreading!
The saddle cushions were as soft as pure cotton under your fingers as you awoke from your slumber. The soreness in between your thighs comes back reminding you of the intimate night that you and Aang shared last night.
Memories flashed back at a rabid pace; the slow kisses that ended up roaring into a heated make out, the sound Aang’s moans in your ear as you pulled him in by his lower back with your feet as if he wasn’t close enough, his hands squeezing your thick thighs in response, the glow of his tattoos in the dark, your hands laying purchase around his shoulders guiding down his back as he thrusted into you resulting in your nails to leave angry marks, the night sky moving above as you made love to each other.
When your mind fully came back you realized the weight that normally plagued your mid section was gone. Rising slowly holding the sheets close to your chest. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes the clear blue sky moved overhead, no cloud in sight.
Moving sluggishly, you search for your clothes finding a new set neatly folded alongside your shared bags. A small smile pulled at the ends of your mouth, Aang always did little acts of service like this since the beginning of your relationship. He claimed it was because he was an early riser and totally not because you stayed up most nights hyper-fixated on a painting.
It was hard to accept at first. Struggling with deciphering if he was doing it because it was ingrained in him so deeply to help as the avatar, or if it was something that made him happy but, as time went on you realized it was the latter.
You were lucky to have someone that supported you so loudly even if he thought he was subtle or as Sokka puts it “ being nonchalant “. Unfortunately for him, Aang was very chalant and you are very happy to call that person your husband.
After slipping into your clothes, you went to search for your husband. In all honesty he couldn’t have gotten far suspended sixty thousand feet in the air on a sky bison.
You approach Appa’s head to find Aang standing shirtless. His back on full display, your gaze scanned his back following his tattoos until they passed his scar, to the top of his shoulders where the almost faded red marks resided. Heat rose up your body as they stared back at you, Aang was none the wiser looking out into the ever ending sky occasionally looking at the map Katara lent him every so often.
sauntering over your arms wrap around his waist. Head leaning into his back stealing his warmth from him, your long coils blow softly as the wind passes through. His hand holding on to yours silently acknowledging your presence.
“ How far are we?” you whispered peaking to the side to look at the yellowed parchment
Aang breaks your hands from around his body, descending; moving to a sitting position. His legs bent leaving space for you to sit between them, back to his chest, leaning your head on his shoulder as you got comfortable. You both hold one side of the map stretching the map taut so you could view it better.
“ We're little ways away from half way! However, with the route we’re taking we'll be lucky to make it to the resort in two days. And that’s if the storm dissipates, although I’m very doubtful the wind has been getting stronger the closer we get. It may not be bad now, but if we stay on course past the half way point we’ll hit the eye of the storm. Fortunately, if we stop at this nearby village this evening let the storm pass and take this detour in the morning and make it there by nightfall.” He replies his finger maneuvering above the map
Moonshadow was a sky island water retreat known for its cave pool waterfalls. According to Katara the moon water there was once an oceanid who ran away from home and fell in love with a moon goddess. Their eternal devotion is what gives the water its many enchanting properties. For that same reason only so many people are let in per year making it exclusive and highly sought after. It just so happens that the Gaang were able to snag tickets declaring that you deserved to vacation somewhere just as whimsical as your willow tree wedding.
“ I will never understand how you’re able to get all that from the wind alone. Meteorologists need more than just wind to predict the weather, but you're an omnipotent anemometer if you keep this up meteologists will be out of a job.” you joke a laugh withdrawing from your lips
“ What can I say the wind favors me” He states matter of factly as if being a master at bending wasn’t a big deal in the slightest
“ You're never going to stop giving up on that answer will you?”
“ Nope” He says rolling up the map and putting it in his satchel
“ Sooner or later you’re going to run out of elements for that answer first it’s air, then water,fire and earth I’m sorry to break it to you but you can’t be favored by all of them you have to leave some luck for the rest of us ” You said raising your head up to look at him while counting out on your fingers.
“ Oh do I now”
“ Yes!! If you take all the good fortune I won’t have any making me the unluckiest water-bender in republic city” You whine crossing your arms over your chest, pouting your full lips for good measure.
“ Come on sweetheart, my luck is yours as much as it is mine” He whispered into your ear trying to get your attention back on him.
“ Yeah, says the guy hogging it all to himself, oh almighty avatar.” turning your face before your smile could reveal itself to him trying your best not to break character. Aang didn’t respond. Instead he turned your head fully with his fingers forcing you to look into his gray eyes. They mesmerized you like they always did, like the full moon when it finally broke through the clouds after a storm, gentle but eye-catching. Aang moves his hand to hold your cheek, his lips brush softly over yours teasingly “And I'll always choose to share it with you" He declared before he connected, his lips colliding with yours briskly closing the gap not giving you a chance to pull away.
You shifted your body entirely, melting into him completely, your act shattering to smithereens and blowing away in the breeze. Your arms traveled around his neck deepening the kiss. Aang reciprocated placing his hand on the back of your neck, keeping you in place intensify the kiss even more when you finally came up for air, you spoke laying your hands on his chest.
“ One day I'll get you so good you won’t even know what to do with yourself. How'd you know I wasn’t serious? My face was perfect. I didn't even laugh this time.” Air filling your cheeks like a balloon.
“ To be honest you almost did, You're getting better! But your eyes are what gave you away. They sparkled when you looked up at me before long you’ll be an emotion counseling master” He said grabbing onto Appa’s lead.
This was something you and Aang did everyday; expressive suppression training. You were a person whose emotions were effortlessly visible whether it was your expression, tone or body language. They showed loud and proud making you vulnerable to enemies and others who wanted to exploit you.
A blessing and a curse some would say. Nevertheless, you loved it. It was something that made your relationship with Aang stronger even when you were kids, being able to tell him how you felt in more ways than one was special. Some people could hide their emotions from the ones they loved for life if they wanted never breathing a single grievance but not you. Aang always knew. It’s like he was in balance with your emotions more than you were. Not saying that makes the relationship void of effort, but it made it more straightforward when your face showed your cards.
“ Alright, let's make some progress. We have to get to that village by noon, “ Aang bellowed, snapping Appa’s rope with a “ Yip yip” . The sky bison responded in kind with a roar and flew faster than before.
The sun had finally passed its highest point. The village you walked through was so lively, bustling with people and vendors. There was even a man who seemed to be successful in selling his chart of Cambridges. You and Aang walked together, hands clasped tightly Appa strolling behind.
He would squeeze periodically to get your attention. other times to make sure you didn't magically let go wandering off somewhere. As you came up to another booth a set of small watercolors attracted your attention. You couldn’t bring any of your quality supplies with you out of fear of losing something, but a compact set would be perfect for travel. Before you could get a word out, your body moved into action letting go of Aang’s hand and sprinting to the booth.
A faint “ Hey! Wait, slow down! ” passed your ear but it wasn’t enough to stop you. You needed those paints. It had been days since you touched a brush, and your body was itching to touch one so much that you started to miss the smell of paint itself. Making it to the stall you have a brief conversion with the nice lady before purchasing the set along with some brushes; and a small pad of paper. By the time you finished Aang had caught up to you.
“ You have to stop doing that!” Aang huffs hands on his knees desperately trying to catch his breath, gulping deeply between each take. “ With how fast you move. I think you should be appointed to be the next avatar ” He jested, finally straightening his stance.
“ Sorry” Your lips pull up in an apologetic smile
“ What did you buy anyway?” He slightly leaned over to tower you.
Making a trumpet sound with your lips ending in a “ Tada! ” You show him your precious cargo, your enthusiasm thundering off in droves. “ I thought it would be fun to paint small pieces of things I see from Moonshadow, and as honeymoon keepsakes plus! I have to brush up on my skills if I don’t want to plateau when we get back home!” Your smile reaches every part of you.
“ Of course” he laughs, Aang's lips form into a huge smile
He loved seeing you this elated. It was something he loved about you. And he wouldn’t expect anything less. Art was something you treasured deeply to such a degree that you only sold three pieces per year; hosted free art classes in Republic City for the community; or pure self expression determined not to lose your spark.
He takes your supplies, placing them in his bag for now, clasping your hands back together as you begin walking down the market’s path again. Thunder rumbled raucously overhead, startling you. Lifting your head, the clear blue sky was gone, swallowed by towering dark clouds in an instant.
“ That was fast. If we plan to stay dry from the rain tonight we better find the inn” You say continuing to walk as if the clouds hear you mention staying dry, rain erupted from them in sheets. Vendors scrambled trying to pack up their goods before the rain got to them while others ran to find shelter from the downpour. Appa roared as if telling you to get a move on, Aang climbed on pulling you up in the process before a command could be given, Appa took to the thunderous sky.
By the time you found the inn. The sun had completely vanished behind the horizon line sloshing into the foyer; the inn was bathed in an amber glow, a much more calming atmosphere than the raging storm. “ Sheesh, your detection instincts weren’t kidding about the storm.” You grimace, swaying your hands in a delicate motion. Relieving you both of your drenched clothes and bags depositing the rain water into a couple plants nearby.
“ Yeah, but it arrived a lot sooner than I predicted it would. That's why I shot for noon based on the wind's current. It was supposed to arrive at the village by nightfall now.” He sighed, shrugging his slouching sleeve up his shoulder blade.
“ That’s weather for you. Forever changing, making it wildly unpredictable even for the highly acclaimed avatar.” You teased trying to lighten the mood.
“ I guess you're right. The meteorologists can have their weather jobs back. I think I'll stick to balance and world peace from now on.” He quipped, reciprocating in kind. Grabbing all your belongings, Aang proceeded towards the check-in desk. A woman stood behind it with her head down, organizing what seemed to be room keys looking when she heard the titles echo.
“ Hi! Welcome to the Gilded Hollow.” She chimed her eyes sparking like water when it meets the sun
“ Hello! We’d like a room for the night please” Your smile mirrored hers, maybe even brighter.
“ Sure, that’ll be ten copper coins”
Aang places ten coins in the ladies' outstretched hand; she re-counts them carefully before they disappear below the counter, handing him an oak key with the number two engraved on it in return.
“ You guys must also be here for moon fest tomorrow huh?”
“ No, What's the Moon festival?” You both question in unison, looking at each other before letting out soft giggles.
“The moon festival is an annual celebration that the town hosts to celebrate the first full moon of the summer solstice! It’s to give thanks to the moon deity for the abundant harvest season the year prior and ask her to bless another” She explains wholeheartedly.
“ That sounds like fun but, unfortunately we're just passing through “
“ Where are you headed if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Moonshadow for our honeymoon” You replied a smile reaching to the apple of your cheeks
“ Wait really!? Congratulations! I've heard that place is the hardest to get into! “
“ Thanks! Us too, well at least that what our friend told us anyway ”
The conversation was cut short by a ringing bell “ Well that marks the end of my shift. I really hope you guys have a wonderful honeymoon and have a good night!” she says, grabbing her bag and umbrella from under the desk and walking to a door by the back wall.
“ Oh wait, is there any place where I can shelter my sky bison?” Aang quickly interjects before she fully makes it into the door “ Yeah! If you walk down to the back of the building. There’s an empty barn that should be big enough for the big guy!” Using her hands to give visual directions before completely disappearing behind the door.
“ I’ll go take Appa to the barn and you can get settled in the room ” He spoke gently, handing you the room key and your belongings before leaving out into the raging rain once more.
A golden two stares back at you as you unlock the door. The candles shining warm light into the room, a warmer contrast to the dark and raging grey coming from outside. Walking further into the room. You gently placed your belongings on top of the neatly made bed. Unzipping one of the compartments of your bag, you pulled out a flowy silk night gown. You hurriedly undressed yourself of your clothes letting them hit the floor with a soft ‘ Thud! ‘ before stepping out of your garments next.
slipping on the gown quickly pulling out a silk scarf wrapping it around your head to protect what little definition your coils had left. You definitely should’ve listened to toph when she advised you to get braids for the trip, but hey who knew it would rain cats and dogs probably her your conscience replies.
At this rate Toph’s suggestions are starting to feel like some divine look into the future and not just some friendly advice. This wouldn’t be the first time she said something just for it to come true in one form or another .
You didn't want to believe Sokka and his wide land of conspiracies especially when they have to do with silly stuff like birds being descended from robots but maybe he was right about toph having a secret sixth sense or as he calls it “ team avatar’s guiding light.”
The door opens and closes softly revealing a once again drenched Aang before moving a step his left hand lights up embers burning bright in the small shadows of the doorway while his right makes a large ball of compressed air combining them to dry his clothes in an instant.
Being a bender had its perks, drying clothes, making fires and even constructing shelters. Honestly you didn’t know what you’d do if you weren’t a water-bender or if Aang wasn’t the avatar blessed with all four elements. Such divine power felt critical during times like these.
“ Appa was out cold before I even left the barn” he says with a small laugh escaping his lips making his way fully into the room in the process.
“ That's our appa I think if he were human he’d be a person who could sleep anywhere” you joke back picking up your clothes and placing them in a pouch full of dirty clothes as you do so Aang starts to discard his robes replacing them with a long pair of pajama pants with horizontal pattern of blue and white stripes leaving his upper body on full display.
As he starts to fold up his garments you slide your way into the soft cotton bed sheets Aang slides in. Soon after both of you lay face to face Aang wrapped his arm around your waist pulling you in your bodies colliding with one another Aang’s chin on the top of your head as you burrowed into his chest.
The silence settled as you cuddled together the rain now quiet with only drops periodically hitting the windows and the moon shown brightly through the rooms thin curtains. You loved moments like this being able to just exist with your husband without having to utter a single word just pure blissful silence. Your mind drifts, bringing you back to what the receptionist said about the village's festival. It had to be something really special if a lot of people were willing to come from far and wide just to take part.. Right?
you moved slightly lifting your head, your eyes locking with aang’s before he could ask you if anything was wrong you spoke “ I think we should stay for the festival” you knew it would elongate your trip but it seems worth it for the experience of something new because what’s a journey without the experiences in between. Aang’s eyes creased at the edges softening his features as a smile creeped onto his lips
“ I think we should too, who knows when we’ll get another chance to experience something like this again. We don't come by many festivals when we travel, especially ones that are as big as this one's going to be” he replies, leaning in to kiss your forehead.
“ plus a wise person once said it’s about the journey not the destination “ you say stifling a laugh your figure pointed up as if you were giving someone some words of wisdom.
“ and we’ll have more to tell everyone when we get back” he says knowing the gang they’d want to know everything you did from the food you ate,the people you meet later putting every anecdote in the keepsake album it was already full of entry dating back to when katara and sokka found aang frozen in ice through when you finally defeated ozai making zuko the next firelord.
“ lets get some sleep ” you snuggle back into him with the festival being tomorrow night you’d need all the sleep you could get.
Aang moved his hand as if swatting something away putting out all the candles. Your bodies relaxed into each other finally giving way after the long travel it felt good to finally lay in a bed. Appa made for a good alternative with fur as soft as the clouds above but sadly tonight he was outranked easily by the soft memory foam mattress. Before the sandman could fully whisk you away to the land of dreams you lazily kissed aang cheek followed by soft “ goodnight ”
“ goodnight ” you he whispered back kiss the top of your head before long the silence consumed you pulling you into a soft gentle slumber
The moon shone brightly on your brown skin as you walked through the crowd mixed with men,women and children, your hands clasped tightly so as not to get lost in the overwhelming sea of people. The golden glow of the lanterns lit up each booth glittered in moon decor as you walked by them, some filled with games ranging from scooping fish with a paper thin paddle to a simple ring toss game while others were filled with combusting aroma’s of savory and sweet foods .
It was such a beautiful site to witness republic city has its own festival, the harmony festival celebrating the union between all four elements and their people living in one nation filled with games, food and dancing but this felt different at least to you anyway. The people here were doing all of this to celebrate and share their thanks for last summer's harvest something that varies season to season you had a feeling even if the community experienced a drought that washed out ninety percent of their crops they would still be here celebrating happy locked in arms with one another as if they were blessed with a bountiful harvest.
A tug on your sleeve caught your attention. You looked down and a little girl no older than five stood to your right wearing a flowy white dress with “white hair” resembling tui the moon spirit or as you knew her as princess Yue with a basket full of different varieties of flower crowns. Letting go of Aang's hand you stoop down to her level to greet her.
“ Hi, are you lost?” you ask your voice as smooth and gentle as honey
She looked away from you momentarily fiddling with her figures as she rapidly shook her head back and forth, signaling to you that she was indeed not lost but maybe nervous and a bit shy. You let her have a moment before long her eyes sparkled with determination and courage reaching into a basket she pulled out a crown weaved of tiny white flowers that looked like jasmine.
“ I thought you looked really pretty so I- I wanted to give this to you please accept this” she murmured loud enough so you could hear her hand stretched out to present the crown to you. Your heart felt like it was about to burst from your chest and your inner voice screamed she was so adorable you had to resist putting your hands out and squeezing her cheeks
“ Aww thank you, I would love to accept your flower crown!” your hands folded over your chest, a gentle smile forming across your full lips. Bowing your head a little you let her place the crown on your head carefully enough not to tangle it in your fluffy lushes coils. As you lifted your head you saw a big smile bloomed on to her face like a well watered flower who finally got the right amount of sun.
Before you could say a single word her body embraced yours her hands linking around your shoulders you didn’t hug her back right away stunned from the abruptness of the but as soon as you came to your arms wrapped around her in an instant giving her a firm but light squeeze. Moments like this are what keeps you going during hard times, the love and joy that strangers give to one another and the way they come together like this to spread that love and joy through their community it always warms your heart.
She soon released her grip on you letting you go her smile she shin bright with no sign of disappearing you lifted yourself up back to a straight stance the little girl soon runs off in front of you towards a tall man who was waiting for her before she fully got to him she turned back to you lifting her hand up high waving it back and forth before yelling “ bye bye” tears start to well up in your eyes blurring the scene in front of you but you blinked them away quickly clearing your vision before wave back at her.
Before completely walking out of your site the girl jumped up and down while holding hands with her father exclaiming “ did you see me dad! Did you see me? I did it! ” You didn’t get to hear what he was going to say by that time they were out of ear shot but you did see him turn to her with a big smile patting her head guesting to you that he saw and he was proud of her. Aang’s hand clasps into yours again as you let the moment simmer and take up space as you continue walking Aang’s hand moves to wrap around your waist closing the small gap between as you lay your head on his shoulder.
“ No way! “ aang yells abruptly coming to a stop startling you in the process lifting your head to follow his field of vision you noticed a stall a few paces away with a big sign in the shape of a a dragon breathing an ombre of orange and yellow flames firecracker buns was spelled big letters across its body you turn your head looking over at aang’s side profile to his cloudy eyes glittered in the amber light as if he had finally found the one treasure he’d been looking for.
Before you could fully comprehend Aang's sentence of “ let’s go” he was grabbing your hand and pulling you along towards the stall and waiting in the queue. Thankfully, it wasn’t that busy, just a handful of people in line. But, you knew even if it was packed with people it wouldn’t stop your husband from standing and waiting to get his hands on some sweet and spicy firecracker buns.
In your husband's defence he didn’t get to have them very often the last time he did was three months ago when Zuko came to visit for a diplomacy meeting. That moment lived rent free in your mind Aang consuming his weight in firecracker buns as you and the gaang disgusted trading laws it was mildly terrifying if you had to be honest. It's like he became a whole different person or as Sokka liked to put it
“ he was like a little ancient firecracker bun monster claiming to simply love firecracker buns like any normal sain monster just to caught devour them whole behind the scenes on the verge of a firecracker bun addiction.”
Whether that made sense to you or anyone but Sokka was a mystery but regardless you had to put a rule in place for his own good. Zuko would only bring the buns on special occasions or you would make them yourself when he needed a little pick me up after a hard day.
It was finally your turn as you moved up to the opening of the booth. The aroma of sweet red bean and the roaring sting of spice hit your nose simultaneously. The stand was manned by two older women, one of them was filling the buns while the other packaged them up in cute little wrappers with mini dragons on them. “ two firecracker buns please!” The exchange was quick Aang handing over the appropriate amount of coins and retrieving the buns thanking the women before the two ladies bowed as thanks before saying goodbye.
You and Aang find a place to sit a little ways away on a nearby bench under an oak tree , digging in before you could fully sit down moaning in pure delight at the combined swicy taste profile. A smile pulled across your lips as you took a bite of your bun and watched aang eat. Despite his overwhelming love for the desert it filled your body with so much affection to see him shine as bright as the sun on its hottest day over something so mundane as his favorite desert between being the avatar and being a diplomat for republic city doing everything for everyone in the name of keeping the balance it was nice to see him animated.
“ I guess people's love for fire cracker buns can transcends cultures.” he says rolling up his wrapper into a ball.
“ To be honest I didn’t expect to see them here, maybe flaming fire flakes considering how popular they are around the world but not firecracker buns. It was a nice surprise. ” you say trying to stifle your giggle before aang could notice but failing miserably.
“ What?!”
“ Nothing, it was just nice to see you be truly yourself with everything you always have going on I don’t get to see that part of you very often carefree,pulled an elated by things in everyday life it felt like a small jump back in time to when we were kids traveling semi- careless to the worlds many complexities ” you say as memories flash in and out
The breezes pick up, blowing your coils gently as you stare out into the distance of people walking by with candy floss and prizes from the games they played. Your vision was soon cut off by Aang's body blocking your vision leading you to only focus on him.
“ Then let’s go make more of those memories together” he says with a tender smile on his lips hand held out to you waiting for you to take it. You took without a second though he pulled you from the bench running full speed into the crowd almost losing your balance and dropping your firecracker bun in the process a laugh escapes your body as you trail behind one so loud and joyous and full of life that if portmented it could birth its own newborn star.
As you try and line up your last hoop and the glass bottle far in the distance in best out of three competition of ring toss it was your last game and Aang stood off to the side arms crossed with a smug expression ready to claim his full swipe victory. But you were determined to win
Finding the perfect bottle for your win you flick your wrist firmly releasing it before you know it. It's like time starts going in slow motion and everything goes silent as the hoop clinks back and forth on the bottles leaving your heart pounding in anticipation. Then finally stops missing your intended bottle but landing one behind it.
Time goes back to normal and the noise of your surroundings comes back as if someone had pressed play after leaving a movie on pause. “ YES!” you bellowed out a big grin forming on the apples of your cheeks making your skin sparkled with glee spinning around doing your victory dance. “ And that’s how it's done” pointing your finger at Aang playfully relishing in your win. It wasn't everyday you beat Aang at something so you had to soak in this victory.
“ I guess I underestimated your skills ” he says lowering his head and raising his hands trying to simulate defeat but you could see right through him
“ Yeah right! I saw you over there looking all smug like you had this whole thing in the bag” your hands making their way to your hips
“ No,it’s just by the way you were miss a good amount of your throws and it was seeming very likely that I win”
Your frivolous lightheart squabble was interrupted by overwhelming music in the distance . Looking around you noticed that the once big bustling crowd of people was smaller. Some making their way down a path lit up by lanterns as if people had disappeared like a ghost in the night . Stalls that were once busy are now vacant.“ Where is everyone going? Is the festival over?” you ask out loud swirling your head back and forth confused by everyone sudden disappearance
“ Oh no! It’s just time for the lantern release “ the bubbly booth attendant chimes behind you
“ Lantern release?” you say facing towards her
“ Yeah! It’s where everyone releases a lantern at the same time silently filling the flame inside with their hopes and dreams. The locals mostly fill with their wishes for another good harvest next season while others fill theirs with other wishes” she explains while putting a sign on the booth say “ we'll be back soon!” just in case anyone came by when she was gone.
“ You should go! It would complete your day in the village”
“ How did you know we weren’t local?”
“ Just a hunch” she jokes
As you and Aang made your way down the path the lanterns above you twinkle and the music thundered even louder revealing a crowd full of people holding lanterns the full moon shining bright above them. You approached a group women at the end of the path holding some papers lantern with varied patterns some with moons,stars and even jasmines
“ please take a lantern” they say in unison hands out stretched presenting them to you
All the lanterns were so beautiful it was hard to choose just one “ we should get one with the jasmines on it they kind of match your flower crown Aang said picking up the lantern and he was right it did match a one to one replica at that. “ Ok! Let’s go try and find a good spot “ pulling him through the big crowd.
While you settled into your spot the music started to die down slowly before going completely silent “ ladies and gentleman the moon has reached its peak in the horizon which means it’s now time to send our hopes and dreams to our moon deity Tui so please get into position “ a voice man's voice bellowed out of a microphone in the middle of the clearing
You looked around to see everyone start moving into place, one person on each side of the lantern as it was held in the middle. In between them you move to Aang on the left and you on the right.
“ Some of you may have noticed by now that your lanterns are void of flame don’t worry in order to get your lantern to light you must focus and fill it will your ambitions and aspirations making the flame grow and burst to life”
Lanterns in the distance started to glow the flames growing little by little until it engulfed the inside. Turning your head back towards Aang, your eyes locked into unspoken words drifting between you as your hands moved closer together. Shutting your eyes at the same time a dark endless void surrounding you.
You did your best to concentrate thinking about deepest desires as you focused the dark void slowly started to dissipate being replaced by the flickering glow of the growing blaze and the sweet smell of beeswax entering your nose fully consuming you.
“ now that everyone lanterns have been lit open your eyes and stand together so you may release your lanterns”
You and Aang moved side by side, one of each of your hands holding the lantern, his other hand slipping its way around your waist, your bodies colliding together. As everyone moved closer together the man spoke again.
“ and now on the count down from three please release your precise lanterns “
3..
2..
1..
The lanterns ascended high into the starry night sky. You lay your head on Aang's shoulder as you watched it was a magical site to behold watching everyone's wishes scatter up littering the atmosphere in an amber glow like the sun rising up on a new day. The comfortable silence simmered as you observed this breath taking moment.
“ you have the moon deity’s blessing” you hear him says breaking the moment his head turing to look at you in the eyes
“ what?!”
“ The flower crown the girl gave you the flowers are jasmine cestrum nocturnum they use it as a symbol for the moon deity’s blessing during the festival”
“ And just how do you know this? ” you laugh
“ I overheard a lady earlier say that they grow them just for the festival and if given to you on the night of a full moon that it equates to the moon deity tui’s blessing wishing you years of romance and eternal beauty ” he says hands coursing up your cheeks
“ Well, as long as I have princess yue’s blessing I'm happy that I get to share it with you in this very moment.” wrapping your arms laying purchase around his neck pull him close enough that your lips grazing his your breath fanning his face teasing him.
His lips crashed into yours feverishly like a wandering traveler finally coming across an oasis in the never ending desert his hands slid from your cheeks to your lower back deepening the kiss tenfold heat rising in your body overwhelming all of your senses. As you stew in the passion of your love the lanterns glittered out of existence one by one being received the moon deity in spirit
all except one it ascended high making it to the middle of the moon before being halted by a pair of glowing hands Yue watched as you and aang’s foreheads touched after your kiss, relishing in each other's closeness. She held your lantern, embracing it as the flame flicked about even though all she could do was follow you guys all night through the festival watching you guys eat, laugh and joke with each other.
It was enough for her. Being able to see you when the moon's power was at its strongest was the greatest gift she could have asked it was like her very own blessing was being answered although she was the deity to give out divine favor she clinged to your wishes making sure hers weren’t the only ones getting granted on this starry night.
Ultimately grateful that she went through with her plan for a heavy rain storm after all the oceans tides aren’t the only thing she could control.
The great islands of Moonshadow silhouette emerged as Appa broke through the last of what felt like a never ending veil of fog. All six of his paws drift through the open ocean spreading the water's pungent aroma through the wind's currents, its saltiness engulfing your nostrils. You shut your eyes outstretching your arms letting yourself take it all in, brown skin glistening in the sun rise while your plush coils flow with the breeze.
It was stunning the lavish foliage of the mountains and trees, the chirping of the muti-colored birds flying overhead, even the constant roaring of the water coming from various waterfalls. Katara's description in all honesty didn’t hold a candle to the beauty of the real thing. Even if you sat for hours with paints, a canvas and the oceans water as your reset button you don’t think you would be able to do this island justice it was something that simply couldn’t be captured.
As you approached closer to the floating archipelago Aang stirred Appa towards the huge suspended docks full of specialized airships with the island's crest releasing a small group of people. It was always a recurring thought how an island floating this high in the sky would transport not only people but its commodities too. Apparently something as simply specialized airships was the answer and not magical alternatives like your brain first imagined.
Appa lands softly, the oak wood creaking under his weight sliding off his back without a moment's delay, Aang coming down soon after bags in toe." Thanks big guy, we'll take it from here.” You say smashing yourself into his massive fluffy body rubbing your arms through his fur as thanks for his hard work. Sky Bison had long life expectancies but that didn’t stop you from thinking about how much older he was getting to you. Appa would always be that cute adorable six year old bison you met twelve years ago no matter how old he got.
After releasing him Aang tossed him an assortment of fruits from his separate travel bag then extended his arm out to give him head pats “ Thanks bubby, have fun exploring the mountains don’t get into too much trouble and remember to come back for dinner when the sun goes down.” Appa roared softly in response as if saying “ I understand “ before ascending into the sky drifting towards the lush mountains where he would be unbothered and have his own mini vacation afterall he deserved it without him you wouldn’t be able to travel the world as freely.
While walking down the dock the main island's architecture caught your attention. The base level buildings were pretty ordinary with allies of two story shops and homes but the higher you looked, many of the buildings were clustered far enough to enable privacy but still close. The people here utilized every part of the island's terrain to build homes. There were some atop the trees connected by rope bridges. They remind you of the hideout that Jet and his crew had so long ago there were even some inside a small mountain on the right side of the main island, steam bellowing out of the top like a sleeping volcano waiting for the perfect time to erupt .
You understood why the natives wanted to keep this place sacred. It felt new and cavitating for sure any location would to who wasn’t its soul witness but there was just something about being able to learn a place and its culture so authentically without the echo of an outside source spending your time at the locals spots knowing everything you contributed on your vacation was going back to the very people who made up its population.
“ So how do we get to where we’ll be staying? “ you asked Aang as you watched a baker flip what seemed to be a sign for closed to open from a distance
“ According to the card that Katara pinned to the map, her friend Seko will be here soon to take us to their water bungalow on the second island.”
“ That’s nice of them! we should get them a gift to show them our gratitude” you chirp “ there’s a bakery over there maybe we can find something there” pulling Aang along
Making your way over to the bakery, passing the outside seating you sliding through the front door a bell dings indicating your arrival at the shop the aroma of baked goods hitting your nose instantly.
The decorations were minimal but contributed so well to the bakeries overall cozy atmosphere like the tulip shaped overhead lamps that omitted a gentle amber light , the army of various sizes of plants that looked like they should be planning a takeover on a patch of land or even the hand carved wooden signs added a touch of homeyness to the place ultimately calming all senses before you even walked in .
“ Hi welcome to ( insert name here ) by I’ll be right with you consider taking a look at this week's specials, browse the display case of bread and desserts a or take a look at our mini drink menu a voice called from the very back of the store
After the invitation Aang took it as his cue to have a staring contest with almost every single item in the case taking the act of choosing a thank you gift very seriously
“ What kind of goods do you think would be neutral enough to give to someone we’ve never met.” he asked, turning his head to look up at you, giving the round loaf of sourdough a break from his prying eyes.
“ mmm” tapping your finger on your chin “ maybe the shortbread has a basic vanilla flavor that’s not too sweet “ leaning forwards pointing to the unassuming cookies at the top right of the case.
“ I have a chocolate version too! if the shortbread is your leading choice." Your eyes move towards the voice a woman with deep brown skin comes through the door behind the counter,her loose curls being held back by a white cloth headband. Tray in hand full of what looked like croissants you weren’t really sure, setting them down on the island closest to her before doing away with her mittens and leaning her arms on top of the display case.
“ Oh! Sorry bad habit let me introduce myself I’m Mia “ a tender smile coming across her full lips
Aang stands back to his full height stretching his hand out to introduce himself along with you. It was a sweet but speedy back and forth. Mia even introduced you to her husband who not only runs the bakery with her but also was a Master Woodcarver creating the signs in the shop as a surprise for her when she first opened it made your body overflow with happiness.
“ Enough about me what brings you guys here today!” she asks while putting the fresh croissants in a woven wood basket.
“ We're looking for a gift to give our host as thanks for letting us stay in their guest house while on vacation” you explain.
“ That’s thoughtful. I do think your idea of shortbread was good. I also have some tea cakes that just came out so if you’d like we can do an assortment.”
“ We’ll go with that then ”
Mia starts putting the shortbreads in a white box before disappearing into the back room to retrieve the warm tea cakes. Your mind started to wonder while you waited.
What would it be like to run a bakery? Your mind pondered
you weren’t a master at backing or anything. It was merely just a great pass time and one of your main “do tos" for gift giving, nothing special at least that’s what you thought Aang would kindly say otherwise . In some philosophical way you knew Mia's bakery had to be what it was like. You could see it in the way her eyes sparkled and felt it in every move she made, even the mundane ones like putting the goods in the display case and greeting the people that walked through the door.
Like this was what her soul was called to do, it gave her life meaning in the exact same way painting and art did for you and that’s what made Mia and this place special not just the baked goods she was able to to sell it was a part of it but, the joy in every part of the process is what lasted the journey would all feel worth it if she’s able to herself at the end of the day “i’m happy” just like you could.
Mia came back with the box moments later, the box now donning a baby pink ribbon she rings everything exchanging the goodies for exactly twenty gold coins and some samples of sourdough. You waved goodbye while simultaneously stepping through the door, the bell chiming once again announcing your departure but deep down you knew this wasn’t going to be the last time you visited this bakery during your stay here.
In the little time you spent in the bakery the weather had completely changed. The clouds had fully dispersed leaving nothing but a clear blue sky; the sun was now beating down its unforgiving rise killing the cool breeze that was present only moments prior you really hoped you could get to the bungalow in time to lather your skin in sunscreen you refused for you or Aang to be the victims of a vacation sunburn.
As you walked back towards the almost empty docks, a woman with olive skin stood next to a boat with a sign with your names scribbled across in big font. She looked the same age as Katara .
She had to be the friend Aang had mentioned who else would know your name and that you would be specifically traveling with a handsome six foot three bald guy with an arrow tattoo going down the middle of his forehead thousands of miles away on a floating island. She spotted you placing the sign inside the boat before jogging her way over to you, her short hair flowing behind her.
“ Hiiii I’m Seko. It's so nice to meet you. Katara has been telling me a lot about through her letters I'll be your guide so feel free to ask me anything.” with enthusiasm so thick that it radiated off her in droves Even though she already knew your names you introduced yourself anyway not wanting to leave her hanging.
“ These are for you and your family.” presenting her with the box of baked goods” Thank you so much! for agreeing to host us”
“ It's no problem really, my family and I love hosting people. It gives us a chance to meet all kinds of new faces and share cultures too.” taking the box off your hands
Seko rose her hand over her eyes acting as a makeshift pair of shades gazing up into the sky overhead “ if we want to make it to the island before it hits its peak we should definitely get a move on you don’t want to become a meat skewer on your first day here she joked turning around on her heels back in the boats direction.
Seko helped lower your bags into the boat tying a cable around them so they wouldn't move around followed by helping you and Aang down into the boat making sure you were all settled in before turning the key making the vessel roar to life and stirring her way through the wide open waters.
The community of bungalows sat wide spread across the shore of the beach in one big row as you traversed the paths connecting them Seko walked in front of you giving a small tour but you couldn’t help but notice that it was quiet.
The only thing you could hear were the waves crashing into the platforms below, the birds calling to each other and the wood underneath your feet. To be frank you expected it to be overflowing with people and members of seko’s family when you arrived but it was like a ghost town, silent and vacant.
“ Where is everyone?” Aang questioned also noticing the vacantness
Seko turned her body completely to face you and Aang simultaneously walking backwards “they didn’t want to overcrowd you on your first day so they went out to get some more things for dinner but they should be back soon.”
“ You must have a big family with all the bungalows around here “ you chime looking at every hut you pass. They looked ancient as if they had been standing for over a thousand years but were well maintained like a history frozen in time old in wanting to keep the conversation going..
“ No not really, it's just me,my mom,dad and older brother who stay here with the long history that surrounds these very islands. Us natives do our best to preserve what our ancestors left behind. My family has been taking care of this place for generations.”
“ Did Katara ever tell you the story about Nanna and Amphiro the moon goddess and water nymph that fell in love.”
“ Yes she never told us their names but it was the first thing she told us about” you laugh to yourself remembering Katara’s very animated version with only the water nymph and moon goddess to describe the two lovers.
“ Ok so it’s stated in our great scrolls that decades after that story they were reincarnated and lived here crafting these very bungalows you see be for you wanting to keep an eye on the very waters that once held their souls."
Our people believe that they reincarnate in every generational lifetime if not here somewhere in the world. My ancestors were the first to come across these bungalows after their time here documenting everything and becoming the care takers not wanting their story to drift away with the flow of time.”
History was always so bittersweet on one hand there were stories within its clutches, stories like Nanna and Amphrio’s always made your heart swell so big that it warmed your body from the inside showing two peoples love and compassion for each other, sincere and gentle. Then there were stories like Aang ,Katara and Zuko’s ’that made your chest tighten with overwhelming sorrow and boil with a fiery rage.
The generational brutality continued by one man's cold-blooded mercilessness and willingness to destroy everyone in his way just to obtain the title of “ King” even if those very people were children accompanied by his own son he would get what he wanted or so he thought.
Suffering and joy coexist much like yin and yang, one couldn’t exist without the other and without the very essence of hardship. There would be no team avatar, no peace and no you and Aang but because of these hardships your joy was able to bloom like a flower in spring full of jubilation, affinity and love.
As you reached the end of the long path Seko came to a full stop as if she knew exactly where the path ended without taking a single look. She did grow up here after all but you were still impressed, you on the other hand somehow still bumped into furniture in your home despite it being in the same place for the past three years.
Walking up the small set of stairs Seko unlocks the door making her way inside gesturing for you to follow. The inside was breathtaking, the exposed roof combined with natural wood interior and the oak wood furniture despite the older exterior the interior reminded you of republic cities' take on modern architecture.
“ This will be where you're staying.” Seko says standing in the middle of the room, her arms stretched at full length. “ This very bungalow belonged to Nanna and Amphiro we left their physical possession here when we renovated it a few years ago.”
“ Where are they? ” Aang ask curiosity engulfing every word
“ We hid them around the house kind of like a scavenger hut for the people that stay here so you’ll have to find them yourself “ she says, making a zip and lock motion with her hand to keep her lips sealed.
“ The Waterwave council suggested we put them in a museum on the mainland but we refused not wanting to remove them from their home just to be viewed in some building when their home acts as just that a museum .“ walking back toward the open front door.
You saw Aang’s features softened turning from curious to understanding, taking in Seko’s words even though they didn’t possess a single ounce of sadness he understood.
Everything he knew had been robbed from him by Sozin in his attempt to rid the world of its next avatar. Leaving him nothing but abandoned temples to sift through for possessions once held dear by his people all to be preserved in Republic cities air temple so people could know about the air nomads long after his lifetime.
“ I’ll let you guys get settled in if you need anything. My house is two bungalows on the left “ pointing her figure to her left and turning around to leave but stopping before completely making it out.
“ By the way when you guys finish and are ready to relax the cave pools are open if you go down the path in the middle of the forest there will be a big sign you can’t miss it” before disappearing soon after.
“ Thank you again “ you yell after her hoping she heard you before she fully walked out of ear shot.
Grabbing some of your bags from Aang you both started to unpack, putting your clothes in one side of the drawer while placing his on the other. You tried your best to not overpack. You brought the things you absolutely needed according to your list or as Aang likes to call it “ a list longer than the instructions on the back of a shampoo bottle”
Everything on the list was only absolutely essential even the things you might need and never end up touching but what if you did and you didn't have them having it could save Aang’s life he just didn’t see it .
After finally getting everything put away you slathered yourselves in sunscreen and donned your swimwear, a pastel yellow bikini for you that contrasted well with your brown skin along with a white cover up your coils tied up in a high puff and a power blue pair of swim trunks for Aang he was a simple guy when it came to vacation.
Headed down to the cave pool. The forest was beautiful as you walked down the straight path. The tall trees having mercy on you as they shield you from the sun's oppressive rise finally reaching the horizon line ,bushes filled with berries and seasonal flora and wildlife scouring above you, Aang was even able to point at a koala sleeping in one of the trees, it was calming in a way.
Living in such a bustling developing place like Republic city was nice. It had its perks and the city always sat close to your heart resembling the culmination of everyone's hard work but there was just something about being completely surrounded by nature and its constantly changing beauty that made the artist in you scream there maybe way more paintings in your future then you thought.
As you came to the paths end the mouth of the cave came into view accompanied by the sign Seko mentioned to your surprise the passageway lit up amber light casting away the shadows as you stepped the flames appearing as if they magically knew you were there. The sound of rushing water started to echo like white noise off the walls progressively getting louder as you made your way in farther.
You lift your hand to cover your eyes so as not to be blinded by the light as you walk into the curvaceous at the end of the tunnel. It was a magnificent site to behold foliage and vines covering almost part of the inside the waterfall's crystal clear water rippling out to the huge body below.
The sun beaming through the gaping hole in top making the surface twinkle. You carefully slide your feet out of your sandals, approaching the pool like a wild animal you didn’t want to scare off, hesitating to dip your toes in not wanting to ruin the scenic masterpiece in front of you.
Taking a deep breath you walk down the stairs, the water sloshing around you as your body crosses through eventually making it to the pool's middle. Not being able to contain the emotions filling your chest, a hearty laugh erupting out of your lungs as you spin around in the water taking in the almost angelic moment.
Unbeknownst to you Aang’s eyes bored into you as you walked captivated by your beauty, the way your laugh bounced off into wide open space, your skin sparkling in the overhead lighting casting a golden glow onto you as if the sun favored you and you only.
In all honesty he didn’t care about whatever magical properties the cave's water had. He was fully enraptured by you. He didn't know what life had in store. It was full of all kinds of uncertainties but Aang knew deep down that he could do it if you were there by his side.
Pulling himself out of his self-inflicted trance Aang pulled his shirt over his head quickly kicking off his sandals making his way through the water towards you, his heart calling to yours like they were connected by a red string. Finally making into your orbit he wraps his arms around your waist, your back bumping into his chest, your body melting into his embrace.
“I love you “ you whispered, laying your head back on his shoulder
“ I love you too” he replied, snuggling his head between your shoulder and neck planting a kiss there.
Aang might not have known what had gotten into him just now but something in him told him to embrace you and close the distance. He might not know what that something was but it didn't feel hostile, it felt familiar, serene almost like he had seen you here before despite this being your first time here.
It could very well be the heat playing tricks on him. Zuko did tell him that long exposure to high temperatures could give you hallucinations. But the feeling dissipated as soon as his hands took purchase on your body not want want to focus on it much longer storing it in the back of his mind for later choosing to cherish this moment with you silently soaking up each others tender love
Nanna and Amphiro’s transparent ghostly figures standing behind you, hands clasped tightly watching as you simmered in each other's quiet affection. It was surreal to finally the bodies that would soon continue their lives right in front of them.
While it was true that their souls were supposed to metaphorize every generational cycle Amphrio knew something must’ve gone wrong when they landed in the spirit world a hundred years ago. Only now being able to appear a hundred and twenty four years later in front of the very place they spent their last moments. It was their time.
His beloved Nanna tugged him along eager to finally spend another lifetime with together a gentle smile coming across his lips as they stood in front of the steps, your laugh echoed out again as her eyes locked with his.
Amphrio raised their intertwined hands, planting a gentle kiss on her palm silently saying “ see you in the next life” before dipping their bodies into the pool's crystalline waters. The water began to glow as their forms traveled through the water, their ghostly bodies embracing each other through yours binding themselves into your hearts.
It’s safe to say maybe the water had magical properties after all.
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aang is very much the type to save any and all creatures that wander into your home. no matter how small or big, he’ll either cup it in his hands, trap it in a jar or straight up airbend it out of the door or window without ever so much as harming a single cell on its tiny body. you should have known he wouldn’t have killed the insect, the man is a vegetarian and pacifist. spirits, he didn’t even kill the firelord (the crazy man deserving that fate more than anyone in the history of the world) so why did you think he’d go crazy, avatar state over a little grass spider.
“sweetheart, it’s just a tiny bug.” he coos as you stand frozen in place, finger pointing at the massive spider on your ceiling.
“that is not tiny!” you screech as he reaches for one if the chairs surrounding your dining table. “in what world is THAT tiny!?” your voice pitches up an octave as the insect begins to move.
ohh you hate bugs! especially the ones with too many legs and eyes. yuck. if it had been any smaller you would have taken care of it yours, smacked it with a book or something but when it borders on the size of a coin, well it’s just too big.
“it’s more scared of you, than you’re scared of it- can you pass me that bowl.” aang is already on the chair, his hand outstretched in waiting.
you quickly hand off the plate, taking an immediate step back as if to not be in the way incase the intruder decides to make a quick getaway.
“why are you running away like it’s going to shoot you?” he can’t help the laughter that lilts his tone.
“because i don’t like them.” your skin begins to crawl. “kill it, move it, i don’t care. just please get rid of it.”
you look away as aang raises the bowl, unable to watch if it scurries away. there is the sound of wood on wood, then aang’s soft sigh.
“i’m not gonna kill it when it’s only crime is that it’s small.”
you frown, hating that he could make something so gross seem so…innocent. “that’s not it’s crime.”
“then what is?” his voice comes from the window, as he empties the bowl onto the balcony.
“breaking and entering.” you peek your eyes open and watch as aang walks towards you, bowl (now empty) in his hand. you can never use that bowl again.
“and robbery.” you add on to the insects crimes.
“robbery?” the avatar raises a brow.
“i’m never going to use that bowl again so yes, i was robbed of a bowl.”
crossing your arms over your chest you come face to face (well face to chest ) with aang. your lips pout and you put on your best show of disappointment. he knows it’s fake, can see right through you, but he plays along.
“ohh, should i chase him down and have him arrested for his crimes?”
the bowl is placed on the table next to you, aang’s hands coming up to rest on your hips as he pulls you into his embrace.
“yes. noble and brave avatar, find the spider who dared do me wrong.”
he chuckles, the sound warm and low. “anything for you, my lady.”
summary: you get aang to try a tik tok trend. it fails (?).
"Okay," you say seriously, hands on your hips. Aang's stood before you, listening attentively as always. "Here's the scenario: you've gone to the supermarket without me—"
Aang frowns. "We always go to the supermarket together."
"I know, baby." You have to suppress a smile; he's so damn cute. "But we're just acting something out I saw on Tik Tok. I need to see how you'd react if someone tries to flirt with you when I'm not there."
"Ooooh," Aang replies before he's grinning. "That's so easy."
You raise a playful brow. "Really?" You tease. "Because one woman tried to get your phone number last week and it took me telling you what her true intentions were."
"I thought she was being friendly!" Aang exclaims, chuckling at your laughter. "She saw I was getting pottery supplies and started me asking me questions. I assumed she was interested in the craft."
"You're a handsome 6'4" broad-shouldered man with adorable doe eyes and a very cute smile. Never assume you're being approached for friendly conversation."
Aang grins, all goofy. "Aw, you think I'm handsome."
You grin back. "And annoying," you say, patting away Aang's greedy hands crawling around your waist. "Focus up! We need to do this! Mainly because I'm bored and you indulge my whimsy."
"I love your whimsy," Aang declares fondly, making your heart swell against your ribcage. "You should be whimsical more often."
"For you, I'll be anything," you say, just as fond before patting away Aang's wandering hands again. "Focus!"
"Stop being so cute and maybe I will!"
You stick your tongue out at him, joyful as he laughs. "Okay, we're starting." You clear your throat, put on a flirtatious smile as you sidle up to his side. Your chest presses into his arm, cushioning it with the plush of your bosom and Aang falters, his eyes going wide and a little glassy.
"Hey, I just—oh!" You're immediately interrupted by Aang's lips on yours, coaxing you into a kiss that leaves you breathless. You melt into at first, your initial reaction to anything involving Aang. But then you remember the task at hand and have to, reluctantly, push him away. "A–Aang!"
Aang, still dazed from the kiss, goes, "Hmm?" before trying to come in for another kiss. You make a valiant attempt to evade it, even if you don't stop the kisses he rains on your cheeks and jaw. His arms are locked around your waist, his hands dropping to the small of your back.
"You were supposed to—" He cuts you off with a well-timed kiss, rendering you weak-kneed when his tongue licks into your mouth. "Hah, you were supposed to say—"
"As if I'd look at anyone else when I have you," he murmurs, pulling you closer until you're molded into him. "If that ever happened, that isn't me. I have been abducted."
You manage a laugh, biting your lip when his mouth makes its way to your neck and brings to a life an old bruise from two nights ago. His words hit you like a drum, setting your soul ablaze while softening your already too softened heart.
You love this man so much.
"You still failed," you say, just because you can and your breath hitches when he bites down on a sensitive patch of skin as his hands glide down to lovingly cup your ass.
"No, I didn't." He's grinning widely and you have to agree.
Anon saysss... Aang with a baker!reader ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)
WC: 957
First of all, your relationship would be very homey. Aang loooves your creations and admires the meticulous artistry you shape for each pastry.
Before all of that though, Aang met you through your beloved bakery shop. It catches his attention because it's one of the few places in Republic City where all nations sit with each other naturally.
No tension. No politics. Just a bunch of people enjoying the cultural sweets of other nations.
Surprisingly, your regulars are doing all the marketing for you, encouraging others to drop by as they believe you effortlessly create an atmosphere that feels much like their home.
The first time he enters, you're arguing against a customer whether sea prune filling should be saltier or sweeter. He notices you then — bright-eyed, hair a little messy, and very passionate about pastries.
Then after your mini debate, you notice him looking at a display case for too long.
“Uh, do you love it or hate it?”
“Oh, sorry, what?”
“You're giving a very… Well, that look.”
“What look? I don't have a look.”
You cross your arms playfully. “Yes, you do. The ones I see from people, probably debating if they should buy it because they don't want to regret anything. Trust me, it's yummy. My customers’ words, not mine, by the way.”
He stifles a laugh before the realization hits you. He's an Air Nomad! You sheepishly admit you've been practicing inspired attempts of sweet rolls of his nation, but seeing him gracing your shop, you might as well grab the opportunity to make authentic.
And poor Aang gets dragged into the kitchen, asking him questions like: “I heard Air Nomads liked baking. What kind of fruits grew near the temples? Which would you prefer? Honey or fruit paste? Oh, oh, were festival foods sweeter??? Oh, man, I’ve been trying to create one of their sweets, but I don't wanna mess it up!”
Since you're asking with genuine care instead of exotic fascination, he finds himself softening.
That's how it began. Curiosity. Comfort.
Sooner or later, he questions himself why he keeps coming back.
And then the rest is history.
It gets to a point where he finally and emotionally starts tracing home in your bakery.
You've come a lot together. And now you're making him taste the sweet lotus pies he helped you bake. He sighs at the heavenly taste of freshness and simplicity.
I think he'll fall in love even more when you create a safe space for him to yap away about his heritage. You're always actively listening and showing a sincere desire to learn.
There are times he finds himself thinking deeply about how thankful he is that now he's seeing parts of his culture recreated in ordinary, happy moments.
Actually, the first time you shoved a successfully recreated homemade Air Nomad fruit pie, he practically went still. After a beat of chewing, he went dead quiet. You were a bit worried because he might cry then and there.
It was a small treat yes, but it was genuinely everything to him.
And as soon as several freshly made pastries of his home hit the display case, you proudly start calling out to people more than before.
“Hey, everyone! We have something new on the menu! These are Air Nomad red bean buns!”
“Yeeessss! My boyfriend taught me this one. It's made with strawberries. If you're planning to make one, be sure it's ultra super duper fresh though.”
“These mooncakes are amazing! Aang introduced me to this, so no worries about authenticity!”
Over time, your regulars stop doing a double-take. It just becomes another part of their morning to see the legendary Avatar, sleeves rolled up, kneading dough behind the counter. It actually helps him get closer to people because he gets to see and talk to them not because they need his aid, but simply because they enjoy his company as well.
This soft familiarity is always present in your relationship with him. He can't even imagine his life without baking anymore. He's already too far gone — the early mornings, warm kitchens and taste testings with Appa.
He's become the proudest boyfriend in the world and is incredibly excited to take a step further into the blooming relationship. He feels so lucky to share your lives and deeply cherishes blending your two cultures into your daily routine.
Bonus:
Sokka arrives not knowing what to expect, especially since he walked in on his best friend bickering with the baker. But the second he took a bite of that fruit pie Aang had been raving about? Pure heaven.
Meanwhile:
“Aang, why are you eyeballing the measurements?!”
“Because it works.”
“Are you sure that's not gambling?”
“No????”
“Why does that sound like a question? Also, the custard last time ended up looking crustier! Shame, shame!”
“You don't trust me anymore?” Aang looks at you with hopeful eyes.
“Uh, no, ‘cause I know you'll just feed it to Appa.” You just raise your eyebrow at him.
“He deserves a treat.”
“Aang, he's getting fatter. No offense, he's a lovely guy.” You freeze when you hear an excited growl from the bison outside. “And you taught him that phrase!”
“But he's perfect. He's… Fluffy.” He defends weakly.
“I agree, but everyone can see the difference… And I think he's spherical.”
Sokka almost chokes.
“You're gonna hurt his feelings. He flies everyday, right, Appa? He'll be okay. Also, Sokka, I can hear you over there!”
“Yeah? Well, he almost ate ten pies last week!”
“It was sixteen, actually.” One of the customers mutters. Aang looks scandalized.
summary: After weeks away carrying the weight of the world as the Avatar, Aang finally returns home emotionally exhausted and quietly falls apart the moment you start taking care of him again.
Being the Avatar meant people constantly needed Aang.
Villages.
Leaders.
Spiritual problems.
Conflicts.
Meetings.
It never really stopped. Usually, he handled it well.
But this time?
This time he’d been gone for weeks. And you could tell it was wearing on him. Even through the letters he sent. They started warm and excited at first, little stories about places he visited, people he helped, Appa stealing food from markets.
But the longer he was gone, the shorter they got.
More tired and desperate.
More “I miss you.”
More “I can’t wait to come home.”
And by the last one?
You could practically feel how drained he was through the paper.
So when Appa finally landed back at the temple. You were already running before he fully touched the ground.
“Aang!”
His head snapped up immediately. And the second he saw you, something in him completely softened. Not a little. Completely.
He practically jumped off Appa.
You barely had time to steady yourself before his arms wrapped around you tightly, pulling you fully against him like he needed to physically reassure himself you were real.
“Oh,” he breathed.
The sound alone made your chest ache. You wrapped your arms around him immediately, holding him just as close. And Aang melted.
Actually melted.
His entire body relaxed against yours so fast it almost startled you. His face buried against your neck, his grip tightening slightly as he exhaled shakily. “I missed you,” he mumbled quietly.
“I missed you too,” you whispered.
He didn’t let go. Not even a little. You smiled softly, rubbing your hand up and down his back gently. And somehow
That almost seemed to affect him more.
His breath caught slightly. His arms tightened again. “You okay?” you asked softly.
He nodded immediately.
Then after a second
“…No.”
Your heart squeezed.
You pulled back just enough to look at him properly. He looked exhausted. Not physically, necessarily. Emotionally. Like he’d been carrying everyone else’s problems for too long without anyone taking care of him.
The second your hand touched his cheek, his eyes closed instinctively. Like he’d been craving softness. Craving you.
“You’ve been overworking yourself,” you murmured.
Aang gave a weak little laugh. “That obvious?”
“Very.”
You brushed your thumb gently under his eye before leaning up and pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. And Aang nearly sagged into you. Like even that tiny affection was enough to undo him. “You’re really touch-starved right now, huh?” you whispered softly.
His ears turned pink instantly.
“…Maybe.”
You smiled.
“C’mere.”
You guided him inside carefully, your hand never leaving his.
And Aang followed immediately. Close enough that your shoulders kept brushing the whole walk there.
---
Once you got him settled in your room, you finally noticed the scrapes properly. His arms. His shoulders. And worst of all-
Part of his arrow tattoo near his shoulder had been scraped up badly.
Your brows pulled together immediately. “Aang.”
“What?”
“You’re hurt.”
“It’s not bad.”
You gave him a look.
“It’s bleeding.”
“…Okay, maybe a little bad.”
You sighed softly before motioning toward the bed.
“Sit.”
He obeyed instantly. Mostly because he looked too tired to argue. You grabbed the small healing supplies from nearby before sitting beside him. The second you moved close again, Aang’s shoulders visibly relaxed. Like your presence alone settled him.
“Lift your arm,” you said gently.
He did.
And you carefully started cleaning one of the scrapes near his tattoo. Aang hissed softly. “Sorry,” you murmured immediately.
“It’s okay.”
Your touch gentled even more after that, careful fingers brushing against his skin as you cleaned the injury. And after a moment
You noticed him staring.
“What?” you asked softly.
“…Nothing.”
“Aang.”
His expression softened a little.
“I just missed this.”
Your chest tightened.
“Being patched up?”
“No,” he murmured quietly.
His eyes stayed on you.
“Being taken care of.”
That hit you right in the heart.
You slowed your movements slightly, your fingers brushing carefully along the edge of his tattoo. “You take care of everyone else all the time,” you said softly.
“Someone has to.”
“And someone has to take care of you too.”
Aang looked down for a second at that.
Quiet.
Emotional.
You could practically see how tired he was now that he’d finally stopped moving. Finally stopped forcing himself to keep going. Your fingers moved carefully along another scrape, smoothing healing ointment gently over the irritated skin. Aang’s breath caught softly.
Your eyes flicked up immediately.
“Did that hurt?”
“No,” he said quickly.
Then quieter-
“It felt nice.”
The honesty in his voice made your expression soften immediately. You brushed your thumb gently along the blue lines of his tattoo.
“You’re so touch-starved,” you murmured.
He laughed weakly, embarrassed.
“Probably.”
You leaned closer, pressing a soft kiss near the uninjured part of his shoulder. Aang visibly melted again. Actually melted. His eyes closed immediately, his head tipping slightly toward you instinctively.
And suddenly you realized-
He’d spent weeks without this.
Without soft touches.
Without comfort. Without someone loving him gently instead of needing things from him.
Your chest ached.
“You should’ve come home sooner,” you whispered.
“I couldn’t.”
“I know.”
That was the hard part. You finished wrapping the scrape carefully before setting everything aside. The second your hands were free again, Aang moved.
Fast.
His arms wrapped around your waist immediately as he pulled you into his lap like he physically couldn’t help himself anymore.
“Aang- ” you laughed softly. He buried his face against your stomach first, arms locked around you tightly. Then after a second, he looked up at you. And the look in his eyes nearly ruined you.
Soft.
Exhausted.
Needy in the most emotional way possible. “Can you just stay like this for a while?” he asked quietly.
Your heart completely melted.
“Of course.”
You climbed fully into his lap then, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he held you close instantly. And Aang relaxed harder than you’d ever felt before. Like every piece of tension he’d been carrying finally started slipping away.
His face tucked against your neck, breathing slow and warm now.
Safe.
Home. You ran your fingers gently through the short hair near his scalp, scratching lightly.
A tiny sound left him before he could stop it.
You smiled softly.
“That good?”
“…Don’t tease me,” he muttered weakly.
You laughed quietly.
But your hands never stopped touching him.
And honestly?
Aang probably would’ve stayed there holding you forever if you let him.
Apple saysss.... Aang realizes you have memory loss, umable to recall everyone... Except him (っ º - º ς)
TWs: Angst, Memory Loss / Amnesia, Loss of Identity, Psychological Distress, Emotional Dependency, Hurt/Comfort
WC: 873
It was safe.
It was supposed to be safe.
He's the Avatar. Keeping everyone out of harm’s way should be their primary duty, including you.
Especially you.
“Aang…? Why are you looking at me like that? And, and I—”
He almost lost his composure. You're safe now. You're propped up in bed, focusing on him with those earnest eyes.
You're fine. You're safe. You're okay. He keeps chanting to himself, his hands tremble though.
“I— I'm…?” You pause. You slowly look at the sheets of the silk bed as your breath hitches. “What just happened?”
“Huh?” Aang immediately snapped out of his agitation.
What do you mean what happened?
Oh, your head must be leading a burnout from the impact before you ended up bedridden. This is probably a normal reaction.
Before he can even have the opportunity to explain the situation clearly, you wince, clutching your stomach. He shot an immediate look of caution.
He has his hand around your back gently. “Hey, hey, careful… You just got out of a fight.”
“I, I see… But what fight?”
The door creaks open, both alerting the two of you to look at it synchronized and questionable. The familiar waterbender approaches the two of you.
Familiar? You squint your eyes at the idea.
Katara smiles. It's small, though. She doesn't really feel any sort of victory after what happened to you despite winning the battle.
“Hey, you're awake! I'm glad, the others will be relieved, too. Do you feel any pain?”
“Um, a little bit. My tummy must be acting up.”
Katara furrows her brows. She reaches for your hand and is about to bridge the gaps, but your immediate flinch causes her to retreat.
Something must be wrong.
“Hey.”
“Yes…?”
“Do you know who she is?” He asks, referring to Katara.
You bite your lip as you rummage throughout your brain. “I don't know. I— I feel like I should know… Should I? My mind must be messing with me.”
“Do you know who you are?” Katara asks gently.
You pause for too long.
Katara and Aang look at each other in unison. Something is wrong.
⋮
Memory loss is the price you had to pay.
You're frightened at the gaps in your own mind, breathing unevenly because you're aware you should be holding memories more than what you have right now.
However, your supposed friends sailed you into reality. They asked questions. Slowly. Never prying. Your comfort was still their priority.
To sum it up, you can't recall anyone or anything. You don't remember yourself. You can't remember your family. You can't remember your friends.
But you remember Aang.
All the time spent with him, the laughter, the journeys, the fights. Everything. However, no matter how much you dug, the missing memories are still unreachable. It's frustrating, it's like you're reaching for the stars, but you don't know if that's what you're truly after, so you just long from afar.
You're terrified, Aang thinks. His stomach is still on the floor. To have your entire world begone so suddenly had him on edge.
Memories of him are the sole remaining reflection of who you are; this thought alone unables him to sleep peacefully.
He values personhood and emotional freedom a lot. When you ask clearly what colors you used to like or what you used to hate, his protectiveness will intensify hard.
Because of the memory loss, you find yourself clinging to him more than before, like he's your only guiding light in the gloomy tunnel.
Because he is in tune with your feelings, his main priority will be your emotional safety.
Even if you try to not panic — he'll still catch your hesitance to speak, your eyes darting around, and the silent fear tearing through your face when someone mentions a past you can't access.
Never does he think of even pulling away. He's the only one real to you. If anything, he becomes impossibly gentle.
When you linger closely, sitting by his side at meals, and constantly seeking his presence, especially after waking from nightmares — he doesn't make you feel guilty. Not ever.
Aang knows very well the fear of loss tied to identity. The last thing he desires is to equate you to a burden — that is because you're not.
Your clinginess will be reciprocated, perhaps even more so. Deep sleep no longer comes easy for him, already replaced by his worry for you if you ever wake up panicking. He'll always have a hand on you, unwavering and close, ready to reassure you regardless of your surroundings.
Still, despite his reassurance, you don't always feel easy.
When you offer an apology with the promise to change, he shuts it down immediately.
“Don't apologize please.”
“Sorry, I just realized I've been with you since morning.”
“And I let you, that's because I want you to stay. If it makes you feel safe, I'd want to have you near me. There's nothing to be concerned about, you'll never tire me out.”
“Even if I'm restless?”
“Especially when you're restless.” He caresses your hand.
i will find you in the next life, too ༘⋆ aang x reader
༘⋆ synopsis: you think the world has already claimed aang as theirs, but he makes it clear his heart only belongs to you.
༘⋆ content warningsﾉtags: soft!aang, jealousy, crying, heavy angst w/ a happy ending, established relationship, panic attacks, reassurance, soulmate fluff, kissing
༘⋆ author's note: i have aang brainworms. i need more fluff fics of him. god i yearn for this man. also, i just came back from a short break, so my writing may be lackluster :,)
Republic City is alive tonight, a sprawling tapestry of lanterns and noise, all gathered to celebrate the legacy of the Avatars. You can feel the vibration of thousands of footsteps through the soles of your shoes, a pulse that matches the thumping in your chest as you weave through the dense, joyous crowd.
Beside you, Aang is a blur of kinetic energy and pure excitement. He holds your hand with a grip that is firm yet gentle, his skin warm against yours, a constant reminder of his presence amidst the constant noise. In his other hand, he clutches a greasy paper sleeve of unfried dough, a specialty of this particular festival that he’s been eyeing since you stepped off the boat. He takes a large, enthusiastic bite, his cheeks puffing out like a messenger-hawk's, and begins to talk before he’s even finished swallowing.
"You have no idea how great this is," he says, his voice muffled by the dough but bright with wonder. He points a half-eaten stick of pastry toward a row of intricately carved wooden arches decorated with swirling blue and white silks.
"They actually got the cloud patterns right on the Air Nomad tribute! Look at the way the silk hangs—it’s supposed to mimic the high-altitude winds of the Southern Temple. I didn't think anyone remembered those specific nuances after everything, but the organizers here... they really did their homework."
He stops to slurp up a loose bit of dough, his grey eyes wide and glowing under the light of a thousand orange lanterns. Around you, the world is populated by ghosts and legends. Everywhere you look, there is an Avatar. A tall woman with painted white makeup and heavy brass fans strides past, her green Kyoshi warrior robes rustling against the pavement. A group of teenagers in crimson Fire Nation tunics, sporting faux-beards and tall headpieces, laugh as they pretend to firebend like Roku.
Most prominent, however, are the children. Little boys and girls with painted blue arrows on their foreheads dash between the legs of adults, clutching miniature wooden gliders and shrieking with glee. You see a toddler sitting on a bench, his ginger cat patiently enduring a coat of white and brown washable paint, complete with a makeshift arrow on its head to resemble a tiny Appa.
Aang doesn't even realize he's looking at a sea of himself; to him, it’s just a beautiful tribute to a world he worked so hard to save. Because he isn't wearing his formal robes, just a simple traveling cloak and a scarf tucked high to hide his tattoos, he’s just another face in the crowd—a boy enjoying the night with his partner.
Watching him, a lump forms in your throat that has nothing to do with the smoky air. You think about the weight he carries, the sheer, impossible burden placed on shoulders that were only twelve years old when they had to hold up the entire world. While other children were learning to play games or master their first basic bending forms, Aang was facing down a warlord, deciding the fate of nations. He ended a century of darkness not with hatred, but with a kindness so authentic it redefined what it meant to be a hero. He is the most genuinely good person you have ever known, someone who chooses peace even when the world demands violence, and seeing him finally standing in a place where his culture is celebrated instead of mourned makes your heart ache with pride.
But as the night wears on and the crowd grows thicker, that pride begins to curd into a jagged edge of possessiveness that you can’t seem to dull.
The more you see people cheering for the "Avatar," the more you feel a hollow, cold ache spreading through your stomach. It’s a selfish, terrifying realization that you have to share him. Every person here feels like they own a piece of him; they see the icon, the savior, the legend who belongs to the history books and the public squares. They don't know the way his nose crinkles when he’s trying not to sneeze, or the specific, hushed tone he uses when he tells you he had a dream about the monks again.
You look at his profile, illuminated by the flickering glow of a nearby dragon-fire display, and you feel a desperate need to pull him away, to hide him in a place where no one else can look at him. It feels wrong to feel this way, especially when you know what he sacrificed for you. He chose you over the cosmic energy of the universe; he turned his back on the path to total enlightenment because his love for you was a tether he refused to cut. The world needs the Avatar to keep the balance, to be the bridge between spirits and men, but your need for him feels just as vital, just as cosmic. You need Aang, the boy who forgets to tie his shoes, not the master of all four elements who belongs to the masses.
The noise of the festival starts to feel like it’s underwater, a dull roar that presses against your ears. You see a young girl run up to a man dressed as Aang, hugging his knees and calling him a hero, and the sight feels like a physical blow to your ribs. You want to scream that the real hero is right here, but you also want to wrap your arms around him and never let go, terrified that the world will eventually ask for more of him than he has left to give. You are in love with a man who is a public utility, a living monument, and the jealousy of that shared existence feels like it’s suffocating you.
"And the firecrackers!" Aang exclaims, oblivious to the internal storm brewing beside him. He’s looking up at a nearby stall where a merchant is demonstrating 'spirit-flashes' that burst into the shapes of soaring cranes. "They said they’re using a new mixture from the Fire Nation colonies that doesn't produce as much smoke. It’s so much cleaner! Don't you think that—"
He stops mid-sentence, the momentum of his walk carrying him a step further before he feels the resistance in your hand. He tugs slightly, his fingers tightening around yours as he realizes you’ve come to a complete halt in the middle of the thoroughfare. Aang turns back, his expression shifting from exuberant joy to a sudden, flickering confusion. He swallows the last bite of his dough, wiping a smudge of sugar from his lip with the back of his hand.
"Hey, what's the hold up?" he asks, trying to maintain the lighthearted energy of the moment. He offers a goofy, lopsided grin, his head tilting to the side. "If you're waiting for the fire-flakes, I promise they’re in the next square. Or are you just stunned by my incredible disguise? I know, the scarf is very dashing, Sokka said so himself!"
He chuckles, a soft sound, but his eyes are scanning your face with growing intensity. He hasn't realized the depth of your shift yet; he thinks you’re just tired or perhaps overwhelmed by the noise. He takes a step toward you, his free hand reaching out to brush a stray hair from your forehead, his touch as light as a summer breeze.
A weak, wet sniffle escapes you before you can choke it back. The sound is small, but in the micro-climate of your shared space, it hits like a thunderclap. Aang’s smile vanishes instantly, replaced by a look of panic that drains the color from his face. He drops the empty paper sleeve, letting it flutter to the grime-streaked pavement as he moves into your personal space, his arms coming up to rest heavily yet comfortingly over your shoulders.
"Whoa, hey, no, no," he murmurs, his voice dropping an octave into a serious, frantic register. "What happened? Did someone bump into you? Are you hurt?"
He doesn't wait for an answer, his instincts taking over as he gently guides you toward the shadow of a closed tea shop, away from the main flow of the avatar-clad revelers. He creates a small pocket of privacy with his body, shielding you from the prying eyes of the children and the tourists. His thumbs rub small, nervous circles into the fabric of your shirt, his breath warm against your temple. You can't bring yourself to look up, feeling a crushing sense of guilt for ruining his night with a sadness you can barely explain.
"Talk to me, please," he whispers, his forehead leaning against your temple, the distant sound of celebratory drums continues to beat a rhythm that feels worlds away from the two of you.
The moonlight catches the dampness on your cheeks, and Aang’s expression softens. his eyes searching yours for a map through the silence. He pulls you closer, tucking your head under his chin, his heartbeat steady and strong against your ear.
For a few minutes, the only sound is the distant, muffled cheer of the festival and the rustle of the wind through the nearby willow trees. He lets you cry for a long while, his hand moving in slow, soothing circles across the back of your jacket, his breath hitching only when you let out a particularly rough sob.
Eventually, the weight of the silence becomes a question he can no longer ignore. He shifts slightly, prying you gently from his chest so he can see your face.
"Hey," he whispers, his voice barely audible over the low hum of the evening insects. "You wanna tell me what’s knocking around in there? You’re acting like you just saw a Hei Bai spirit in a bad mood."
You look away, watching a discarded firecracker wrapper tumble across the grass. Your throat feels like it’s been lined with sandpaper. How do you tell the savior of the world that you’re struggling with his divinity? You shake your head, a small, jerky movement. "It's nothing, Aang. Just... the noise. The crowds. I think I just got a bit overwhelmed."
Aang doesn't buy it for a second. He gently cups your face, his palms warm and callous-roughened from years of staff-work and travel, forcing you to meet his gaze. His brow is furrowed, a deep V of concern etched between his arrows. It’s an expression so heavy and somber that it looks foreign on his usually bright features.
"You’re not being honest with me," he says, his tone firm but devoid of malice.
A startled, watery laugh bubbles up in your chest. "I think you’ve spent way too much time around Toph. You’ve definitely picked up her lie-detection tricks. It's not fair."
Aang rolls his eyes, a flicker of his usual playfulness returning, though it doesn't reach the worry in his eyes. "I don't need a seismic sense to know when my favorite person is hiding something from me. You can tell me anything. You know that, right? No matter how small or how... dark you think it is."
He reaches down, lacing his pinky finger with yours. It’s a childish gesture, one born of the early days when everything was simpler, before the city and the politics. Together, your voices rise in a shaky, hushed unison, reciting the old chant from the Southern Water Tribe you learned from Katara and Sokka lifetimes ago: "The stars see the path, the ice holds the past, the heart finds the home where the spirit will last."
The familiar rhythm of the words settles some of the tremors in your hands. Aang is smiling now, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that way that always makes your chest ache. You swallow hard, the lump in your throat finally breaking.
"It’s just... look at them out there, Aang," you start, your voice trembling as you gesture vaguely back toward the lights of the festival. "They love you. They worship you. And they should! You’re the most kindhearted, authentic person I’ve ever known. You stopped a hundred years of war when you were a child. You carry the weight of entire nations on your back without letting it turn you bitter. You deserve every statue, every parade, every kid painting a blue arrow on their forehead."
Aang starts to shake his head, his face reddening with a modest "Aw, shucks" expression, but you press your palm against his chest to keep him quiet
"No, let me finish. I love that about you. I love that you’re the Avatar. But… I’m so selfish. I’m selfish! I’m so incredibly selfish!" The words spill out now, a torrent of suppressed anxiety. "I look at them and I feel this... this horrible, gnawing jealousy. I hate that I have to share you. I hate that the world thinks they own a piece of you because you’re the Avatar. Every time someone stops you for a blessing or a photo or a story, I feel like a little more of you is being chipped away and given to people who don't know the boy who forgets where he put his glider or the man who hums in his sleep."
You start to cry in earnest now, the ugly kind of sobbing that makes your chest heave and your breath hitch in painful, ragged gasps. Your vision blurs into a kaleidoscope of moonlight and tears.
"I don't want the world to take you from me," you sob, the sound echoing off the brick walls of the tea shop. "I’m terrified that one day, you’ll give so much of yourself to maintain the 'balance' that there won't be anything left for me. Not even a crumb. And it’s not just now—it’s the legacy. You’re the Avatar. You belong to the cycle. In another life, you’ll be someone else, and you’ll find someone else, and I’ll just be a footnote in a past life’s memory. It’s so unfair that I have to share you across lifetimes! You belong to the whole world, and you belong to the past and the future, and I just want you to belong to me! Right here! Right now "
You’re bordering on a panic attack, your lungs feeling constricted, your heart racing like a trapped bird. You’re certain he’ll think you’re small, or petty, or unworthy of the man who chose the world over himself so many times.
"I don't want to lose you to the cycle, Aang! I don't want to be one of a thousand partners you've had over ten thousand years!”
"Hey! Listen to me. Stop." Aang’s voice is suddenly loud, commanding but infused with a staggering amount of tenderness. He grabs both of your hands, squeezing them tight to anchor you. He waits until your eyes lock onto his, until you’re breathing with him—long, slow draws of air.
"You think I belong to them?" he asks, his voice low and vibrating with an intensity that makes your skin prickle. "You think the 'Avatar' is what matters most? I am the bridge between worlds, yes. I have duties that span centuries. But those duties are just... work. They are the things I do. You? You are the reason I want to do them. You are the reason I want the world to stay in balance—so there’s a world where we can sit in a park and eat dough together."
He leans in closer, his nose almost touching yours. "You aren't sharing me, because the parts of me that belong to you... they don't even exist for the rest of the world. They don't get my vulnerability. They don't get my fears. They don't get the version of Aang that is just a man. I love you with a soul that has lived a thousand years, and in every single one of those years, I would have spent every second looking for you if I knew you were there."
He squeezes your hands, his thumbs rubbing over your knuckles. "And don't you ever think you're just a footnote. You think because I’ve lived before that this is less special? It’s the opposite! My spirit has been looking for yours since the sun first rose, I’m sure of it. And as for the next life... well, I’m the Avatar. I’m pretty good at finding things. I’ll find you. I don’t care if I’m born in the Earth Kingdom or the Fire Nation or back in the temples. I will find you, and I will love you, and we’ll do this all over again. I’ll find you in the next life, and the next, and every single life I ever have. That’s a promise, and I don't break those.
You’re stunned into silence, the weight of his devotion pressing against you like a physical force. He doesn't wait for a response. He leans in, his hands sliding from your shoulders to cup your cheeks, his palms damp with your own tears.
He kisses you then, and it’s not the light, playful peck he usually gives you. It’s a long, deep kiss that tastes of the salty remnants of your tears and the sweetness of the dough he was eating earlier. You can feel the vibration of a low, contented moan in the back of his throat as he pulls you flush against him. His thumbs sweep across your cheekbones, marking you as his, while your fingers tangle into the fabric of his cloak, holding on as if he might float away if you let go. The world around you—the chatter, the lanterns, the legacy—simply ceases to exist. His body is a warm pillar of strength, his thighs pressing against yours as he holds you like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded to the world.
When he finally breaks the kiss, he doesn't pull away far. He rests his nose against yours, and you realize with a start that his own eyes are swimming with tears. He lets out a shaky, half-breath of a laugh, wiping his eyes with his sleeve and composing himself with a sudden, bright grin that illuminates the dark alleyway.
"Man," he says, his voice returning to its usual bouncy cadence as he grabs your hand and begins to lead you back toward the lights. "It’s pretty cruel to make the Avatar cry on Avatar Day, don't you think? That’s gotta be some kind of spiritual bad luck. I think the only way to balance the scales is if you buy me an extra large serving of fire flakes. With the extra spicy seasoning."
He swings your hand between you, his steps light, almost skipping. You look at him—really look at him—and the jealousy doesn't vanish, but it settles into a small shaped, manageable hum. You realize then that he’s right. The world has the legend, but you have the heart.
And as you follow him back into the fray of orange lanterns and painted arrows, you know with a crystalline certainty that you’d choose him over cosmic energy, too.
Your husband, Zuko is sick from a fever, but your toddler wants him anyway
Sorry for any grammatical errors!!
WC: 818
----------------------------
The royal healers were late. That was the first problem
The second problem? Your toddler Izumi pressed against your leg, her face buried in your robes as she sobbed
“Papa”
“I know baby…” You sighed running your hand over her coil gently “I know”
But here’s the thing, Izumi was Zuko’s daughter,which meant she didn’t want the gentle hair run, she wanted her father right here and right now
Third problem? Zuko was currently in the bedchamber running a high fever, so high that the healer’s messenger looked alarmed when he delivered the news that the royal healers won’t make it that day
So here you were, three hours had passed with Zuko burning up in the next room and Izumi sulking in your robes
“Yuki” You looked up at the head maid who had been standing near the doorway with a bowl of cool water and a cloth folded on her hand
“Lady”
“Can you please stay with Izu for a moment?” You asked
“Of course my lady…little lady” Yuki says carrying Izumi who began to wail louder when she left your side.
You couldn’t stay any longer, Izumi’s cries were heartbreaking, and you needed to see your very sick husband.
You walked into the room, nodding to the guard who was standing by the door and looked at the bed. Zuko was buried under blankets, despite the warmth of the room, which you had figured by then how bad his fever was.
But this was Zuko, he hated being cold and hated admitting when he was weak more, so seeing him under those many blankets meant he was losing the battle
“Zuko” You whispered sitting by him placing the back your hand on his forehead, wincing it due to the heat before moving his bangs away from his face
Zuko wakes up, his voice was hoarse, he was barely there but he still had the strength to deny his weakness
“M’fine…”
“You’re not fine”
“Firebenders run hot”
“Zuko you’re currently under how many blankets and you still have the strength to lie to me?...You say that every time” you said before rubbing his cheek, Zuko resting in your hand groaning “The healers are going to be late…Yuki is going to help you…don’t be difficult please?”
“M’not difficult”
You looked at him
“I think…” he said weakly before sighing closing his eyes
“Send Yuki in please…also tell her to bring Izu in” You said to the guard who nodded. Minutes later Yuki came in quietly, Izumi balanced on her hips as the other maid drop the bowl and towel beside you
You thanked her and turned your attention to Izumi who had stoped crying, staring at him with her eyes “Papa…swick?”
Zuko turned his head towards her, his face softening “Yeah baby…papa’s sick”
Izumi squirmed in Yuki’s arms, reaching toward him with both hands “Dwon”
“Baby you can’t go…papa is sick…remember what mama said…papa needs to rest-”
“Dwon!” She yelled squirming more much, signaling a tantrum
You nodded to Yuki who dropped Izumi beside Zuko who rested on his shoulder to look at her
“Hi” Zuko said softly
Izumi sniffled, examined his face and patted his cheek, the scarred one “Papa owie?”
“No baby…just tired” Zuko replies showing a complicated expression
And for the next few minutes you and Yuki watched Izumi babble to Zuko who was trying his best to pay attention to her. 20 minutes had passed and you carried Izumi from the bed
“Papa! I wanwt papa!!” Izumi wiggles in your arms with anger “I wanwt papa!”
“Baby, let Yuki do her job…you’ll be with papa soon baby…I promise” You said, pecking Izumi’s forehead as you watched Yuki fold the wringed out towel and looked at Zuko for permission
“Yes please” Zuko whispers
“Okay lord” Yuki said pressing the cool towel to his forehead, and Zuko made a sound, something between a sigh and a relief, his eyes slowly closing
“Better?” You sked
“Don’t gloat…”
“I’m asking”
“You’re doing the gloating thing…your voice”
“Zuko”
He sighed and looked at you “A bit better”
“The healers will be here soon…just manage for a few hours..” You said as Izumi, much calmer, murmured lines from her picture books doing a slight dance with tears still in her eye.
--------------------
Izumi and Zuko were asleep within the half hour. You had placed her on the bed when she started dozing off, and Zuko had slept off watching Izumi sleep on the bed.
You placed a cool towel on his forehead as Yuki gathered the bowl, quietly moving toward the door but before she slipped out you whispered a thank you, and she bowed her head with a smile.
You placed the back of your hand on his forehead, just to check. He was still hot but he was breathing much easier.
You watched the sun starting its long slide toward the evening, painting the chambers gold
——————————————
If you want more atla content, please read my newest Aang fic, thank you!!
pairing: ঔঌ firelord! zuko x fem! fiancé! reader
જ⁀➴ sypnosis: You forgot that you didn’t just say yes to Zuko—you said yes to the Firelord.
Now you’re stuck in wedding planning chaos, palace politics, and expectations you never asked for, all while trying to hold onto the pieces of your old life before they slip away completely.
mentions: established relationship, engagement, soft angst but pure fluff at the end
part 2 –> here
He says it so simply you almost miss it.
For a second, all you can do is stare at him.
Zuko doesn’t look away. He never does when it matters. There’s something steady in his expression—uncertain, maybe, but certain about this.
Your brain doesn’t catch up.
Your body does.
You step forward and throw your arms around him before you can even form a proper answer, gripping him tight like if you let go too soon the moment might disappear.
For half a second, he goes still in surprise.
Then his arms come up around you, slower, careful but firm.
“Was that—” he starts, slightly muffled against your shoulder, “—a yes?”
You let out something between a laugh and a breath.
“Yes!"
If you had known what it really meant to marry the Firelord, you might have taken a second longer before saying it.
“—the ceremonial procession must follow Fire Nation tradition precisely—”
“—and the guest list will require approval from multiple councils—”
“—you will, of course, need to be briefed on appropriate conduct as Fire Lady—”
You blink.
Once.
Twice.
There are too many voices.
Too many people telling you so many things at the same time.
Scrolls are spread across the table in front of you—thick, official, important. Every single one seems to carry expectations you didn’t realize you had agreed to.
You nod at something someone says.
You’re not sure what.
“—the symbolism of the ceremony is deeply tied to Fire Nation history—”
“Right,” you say automatically.
“—and your role will be observed not only domestically but internationally—”
“Of course,” you hear yourself respond.
“—as Firelady, you will represent—”
You stop listening. Not because you want to. Because suddenly, you can’t.
Firelady.
The words don’t sound like you.
They something distant. Fixed. Something people look at.
Judge.
Expect things from.
“—and we will begin etiquette training immediately—”
You stare down at the scroll in front of you.
At the neat, precise ink. At the life that’s already being written out for you in careful, deliberate strokes. Just a few months ago, it had been simple. Just him and you.
Now—
“—there are also expectations regarding public appearances—”
“—and your presence during council gatherings—”
“—and diplomatic responsibilities—”
You swallow. Smile. Somewhere in the back of your mind, a quiet thought slips in— soft, but impossible to ignore.
You’re not just getting married.
You’re becoming something else.
You keep nodding all along with what the advisors are telling you because what else are you supposed to do? Somewhere between saying yes and sitting in this room, the responsibility had… shifted. Not officially. No one had said it outright. But it was there.
Zuko was Firelord.
That meant council meetings, political disputes, rebuilding a nation that had spent a century at war. It meant decisions that couldn’t wait, problems that didn’t pause for something as small as a wedding.
So the wedding—
fell to you.
Not entirely. Not technically.
There were advisors. Planners. Servants. Entire groups of people whose job was to assist.
But every decision still circled back.
Every question still landed in front of you.
Every expectation quietly settled on your shoulders like it had always been meant to.
“—the final approval will, of course, be yours.”
Of course it will. You force a small smile. “Right.”
Because Zuko trusts you. And that should feel reassuring. It does feel reassuring.
…doesn’t it?
“—additionally, there are several traditions you will need to familiarize yourself with as Firelady—”
Firelady.
Again.
You inhale slowly.
Before you can respond, the doors to the chamber swing open with enough force to make half the room flinch.
“GOOD NEWS—!”
You don’t even have to turn around.
Relief hits before you can stop it. “Sokka,” you say.
“—we got your letter!” he continues, striding in like he owns the place, waving a slightly crumpled scroll in the air. “Well—his letter, technically, but I’m counting it as yours because this is clearly a joint life decision—”
Katara is right behind him. “We came as soon as we could,” she says, breath a little rushed but smiling.
Toph walks in last, hands in her pockets. “Took you long enough,” she says.
The tension doesn’t disappear, but it shifts, like someone opened a window and let actual air in.
The advisors look… concerned.
Confused.
One of them clears their throat. “This is a restricted—”
“They’re with me,” you cut in immediately.
And for the first time since this meeting started, that feels like something solid. Something yours.
Sokka makes it two steps into the room before stopping short, staring at the table. “…Why are there so many scrolls?”
You look at him. Then at the table. Then back at him. “Wedding planning,” you say flatly.
He narrows his eyes. Then, slowly, like he’s recognizing a battlefield layout: “…Oh no.”
Toph snorts.
Aang tilts his head. “It looks… organized?”
“It’s not,” you and Sokka say at the same time.
Katara steps closer, scanning the papers, her expression shifting as she takes in the details. “Oh,” she says quietly.
Not overwhelmed. Not confused. Understanding. And somehow that’s worse. Because now it’s real.
All of it.
You glance down at the scroll in front of you again. Then at your friends. And for a brief second, something tight in your chest loosens.
Just a little.
“…So,” Sokka says, rolling up his sleeves with way too much confidence, “where do we start?”
You let out a breath that’s almost a laugh. “Honestly?” You gesture vaguely at everything.
“I have no idea.”
“Alright,” Sokka says, clapping his hands together like he’s about to lead a war council. “New plan. We divide and conquer.”
“No,” you say immediately.
“No?” he repeats.
“No.”
“Well, that’s unfortunate because I already divided things,” he says, gesturing to the table. “Seating arrangements, ceremonial flow, decorative symbolism—”
You blink. “Why would there be emergency backup scenarios for a wedding?”
Sokka gives you a look. “Have you met people?”
“…Fair.”
Katara steps in before he can escalate further. “Maybe we should start with something simple,” she suggests gently, picking up one of the scrolls. “Like the ceremony layout.”
“Great,” you say. “Simple. I like simple.”
One of the advisors immediately leans forward. “The layout must follow traditional Fire Nation alignment, of course—”
“Of course,” you echo weakly.
“—with the Fire Lord positioned at the eastern axis to symbolize renewal and—”
“Or,” Sokka cuts in, grabbing a brush, “we make a better system.”
He starts sketching something aggressively onto a blank sheet.
Toph tilts her head. “That looks stupid.”
“You can’t even see it!”
“Exactly,” she shoots back. “And I still know it’s stupid.”
Sokka gasps. “This is tactical brilliance!”
“Pretty sure you just invented a traffic problem,” Toph says.
Aang leans over the table, trying to follow along. “Maybe we can combine both ideas? Keep the tradition, but also make it… flow better?”
“That’s what I’m doing!” Sokka insists.
“That’s not what you’re doing,” Katara says, not even looking up.
Meanwhile, you’re staring at two different scrolls that both say completely different things about where you’re supposed to stand during the ceremony.
“Why are there three versions of this,” you ask no one in particular.
“Because the Fire Sage council hasn’t finalized their recommendation yet,” one advisor replies.
“Of course they haven’t,” you mumble.
Sokka suddenly grabs two fabric samples from the side of the table and holds them up.
“Okay, important question. Red or darker red?”
You stare at him. “Those are the same color.”
“They are not the same color,” he says, offended.
He turns to Toph. “Which one looks better?”
Toph doesn’t even hesitate. “I don’t know, Sokka. I’m blind.”
A beat.
Then—
“…Right,” Sokka says.
Toph smirks. “Glad we cleared that up.”
Aang lets out a small laugh before catching himself. “Okay—okay, let’s stay focused. This is supposed to be a happy thing.”
“IT IS A HAPPY THING,” Sokka says, still holding the fabrics. “It’s just also a complicated thing.”
Katara finally sets down the scroll she’s been reading and looks at you.
“Hey,” she says softly. “We’ll figure it out. One step at a time, okay?”
You nod.
Because that’s the right response.
Because she means it.
Because you want to believe it.
Across the table, two advisors start quietly arguing about ceremonial timing.
Sokka is now somehow negotiating with them like this is a war council.
Toph has abandoned her spot and is leaning back in her chair, clearly entertained.
Aang is trying—really trying—to keep everyone calm.
Katara is reorganizing the scrolls into something that almost resembles order.
And you—
you’re still standing in the middle of it all.
Watching. Listening. Trying to keep up as the voices start overlapping again.
“—the Fire Lord’s entrance must precede—”
“—no, the sequence requires—”
“—if we adjust the timing here—”
“—that disrupts the symbolism—”
“—what if we just move the chairs—”
“THE CHAIRS ARE SYMBOLIC—”
Something tight pulls in your chest.
You inhale. Then exhale.
Slowly.
It’s fine. It’s just planning. It’s just one day.
Just a wedding.
…right?
Your gaze drifts down to the scroll in front of you again.
Firelady.
The words sit there, unmoving. Heavy. Permanent. And for the first time since everyone burst into the room, the noise doesn’t feel funny anymore.
You find Zuko in a corridor that definitely wasn’t meant for stopping and talking.
He’s mid-step when you call his name.
He turns immediately anyway.
That alone does something to your chest that you don’t have time to examine.
“You’re busy,” you say, already knowing.
“I can be unbusy,” he replies, like it’s the simplest thing in the world.
It makes you smile before you can stop it.
You fall into step beside him. “No, you can’t.”
He glances at you. “I can.”
“You literally have three council meetings and whatever that thing is with the northern delegates.”
He pauses. “It’s not a thing.”
“It’s a thing,” you say.
“…It’s a thing,” he admits.
You both walk for a few seconds in comfortable silence. Then you clear your throat.
“So,” you begin carefully, “about the ceremony—”
Zuko slows slightly. “What about it?”
You hesitate. Suddenly it feels stupid. Small. Like you’re interrupting something important—which, technically, you are.
But he’s looking at you like you’re the only thing in the hallway that matters, so you continue anyway.
“I was thinking… do you care about the seating order? Because Sokka is trying to redesign it like it’s a battle strategy and I don’t think the Fire Nation is ready for whatever he’s doing.”
A faint flicker of something like amusement crosses his face. “I trust you,” Zuko says simply. “Do what you think is best.”
That should feel like pressure. Instead, it feels like warmth. You exhale a little laugh. “That’s not helpful.”
“It’s honest.”
“I know,” you say softer.
He slows to a stop, just briefly, and looks at you more directly now. “If it’s too much,” he adds, voice quieter, “you don’t have to handle everything alone.”
For a second, the noise of the palace fades.
Just him. Just that steady tone like he’s trying to hold the world still for you, even for a moment.
“I know,” you repeat, but it comes out softer this time. And you almost lean into him properly.
Then—
“Your Majesty!”
Of course. A messenger appears at the end of the corridor like a curse given form.
Zuko straightens immediately. “Yes?”
“Council emergency meeting has been moved forward. They require your presence immediately.”
Zuko closes his eyes for half a second.
Then he looks back at you. Something apologetic flickers there, but it doesn’t change the fact that he has to go. “I’ll come back,” he says.
“You always say that,” you mutter, but there’s no real bite in it.
“I always do,” he replies.
That earns you a small, helpless smile.
He reaches out briefly taking your hand just long enough to squeeze it once.
Then he lets go. And is gone. Just like that.
You stand there for a moment, staring at the empty space he left behind.
Somewhere far down the hallway, you hear another door open, another problem being born.
You inhale slowly.
“…I am going to hit someone,” you say quietly to no one.
Behind you, a voice calls out.
“Who are we hitting?” Sokka asks eagerly.
You turn your head slightly.
“…Everyone,” you answer.
Toph snorts somewhere off to the side.
Katara sighs. “Don’t encourage her.”
Aang, gently: “Maybe we should take a break?”
You close your eyes. Yeah.
A break sounds nice. Unfortunately, a royal wedding planning does not believe in breaks.
The room is quieter than it was earlier.
That’s the problem.
The chaos didn’t end—it just split into smaller conversations, softer voices, scribbling pens instead of shouting arguments.
And somehow that makes it worse.
Because now there’s space to think.
You sit at the edge of the table, staring at a stack of scrolls you didn’t ask to exist in your life.
Fire Nation etiquette. Royal protocols. Ceremony sequences. Diplomatic expectations.
You try to focus on Katara’s voice as she gently organizes something beside you.
“Okay,” she says carefully, “this part isn’t mandatory. It’s more traditional than required.”
“More traditional than required,” you repeat faintly.
“Yeah,” she nods. “So if it feels like too much, we can—”
“It’s all too much,” you say before you can stop yourself.
The room pauses. Not dramatically.
Just… subtly. Like everyone heard you, even if they’re pretending they didn’t fully register it.
You force a breath in. Then out.
“It’s fine,” you add quickly. “I just—yeah. It’s fine.”
Katara watches you for a second longer than necessary, but she doesn’t push. That’s the thing about her. She understands without making it louder.
Sokka is arguing with an advisor about banner placement again. Toph has moved chairs around “for fun” and refuses to elaborate. Aang is trying to mediate a disagreement about ceremonial timing like it’s a philosophical debate about peace.
And you—
you’re suddenly not really there.
Because your eyes land on one of the scrolls again.
Firelady.
Not your name. Not really you. Just a role. A position.
Something you step into and never really step out of. You swallow. Hard. It hits you slowly at first, like a thought you almost don’t let finish forming.
This isn’t just a wedding. This is the point where everything changes and doesn’t go back.
No more just being part of Team Avatar.
No more disappearing into the world without consequence. No more being just… you. You stand up so abruptly your chair scrapes back.
“Hey—” Katara starts.
But you’re already shaking your head.
“I need—” Your voice catches. You clear your throat. “I need air.”
No one stops you. You don’t think they even realize how serious it is until you’re already halfway out the door.
You don’t go far.
Just far enough that the noise disappears.
A balcony. Stone cold under your hands as you grip the railing, staring out at the palace gardens like they belong to someone else.
Because soon, they kind of will.
Your reflection in the glass panel is faint, warped by lantern light. You look… the same. And not at all. “I’m not…” you start quietly. Then stop. Try again.
“I’m not ready for this.” The words feel ridiculous the moment they leave your mouth. Like you’re admitting something you’re supposed to have already accepted.
You don’t hear the door at first.
Or maybe you do—you just don’t react.
Because your hands are still on the railing, and your thoughts are still somewhere far too loud to compete with anything else.
Footsteps follow after a moment. Not rushed. Not loud. Careful in a way that already tells you who it is. Zuko doesn’t speak immediately.
He just stops a few steps behind you, like he’s trying to understand the shape of the silence before interrupting it.
Then, quietly: “They told me you came out here.”
Of course they did. Katara. Or Aang. Or both. You let out a breath that almost turns into a laugh but doesn’t quite make it. “Of course they did,” you repeat flatly.
A pause.
Then Zuko steps closer, just enough that you can feel him there without needing to look.
“You don’t have to talk about it,” he says.
It’s not avoidance. That somehow makes your chest tighten more. You shake your head once. “I just… I thought I could do this.”
“You can,” he says immediately.
So simple. So certain. It almost hurts.
You finally turn your head slightly, just enough to glance at him over your shoulder. “That’s not what I meant.”
Zuko’s expression shifts—not confusion, exactly. Recognition. He understands more than he’s saying. He always does.
You swallow. “I’m becoming something else,” you say, quieter now. “And I don’t know how to do that without… losing everything I was before.”
That lands between you both. Still.
Zuko doesn’t rush to fill it. When he finally speaks, his voice is lower.
“You’re not losing it.”
You let out a small, humorless breath. “It feels like it.”
He steps closer again, slowly, like he’s giving you space even while moving in.
“I felt that too,” he says.
That makes you look at him properly now.He meets your gaze without hesitation.
“When I became Fire Lord,” he continues, “I thought I had to become someone completely different. Someone perfect. Someone who made up for everything that came before.” His jaw tightens slightly. “But that doesn’t work.”
You should respond. You should say something. Anything. “I don’t know if I can do this,” you say. Your voice is thinner than you meant it to be.
Zuko doesn’t interrupt.
That alone almost undoes you more.
You let out a shaky breath, staring out at the gardens because looking at him feels too hard right now. “It’s not just a wedding,” you continue, words starting to spill now that they’ve finally found a way out. “It’s not just…just us. It’s everything. It’s being watched, and expected, and judged, and—”
Your throat tightens. You swallow hard, trying to push through it anyway. “I keep hearing it,” you say, quieter now. “Firelady. Firelady. Like it’s… like it’s already decided what I’m supposed to be.” Your fingers tighten on the railing.
“And I keep thinking…what if I’m not good enough for that?” You laugh once, but it breaks halfway.
“What if I’m just… wrong for it?”
That’s when your voice finally wavers for real.
Not planned. Just… gone.
“I’m trying,” you whisper, frustration creeping in now, sharp and exhausted all at once. “I’m really trying, but there’s so much and everyone just keeps talking like I already am this person and I’m not…I’m not there yet and I don’t know if I ever will be—”
Your breath stutters. You don’t even notice the tears until your vision blurs slightly. You blink. Hard. “…I can’t mess this up,” you say, quieter now, almost like you’re confessing it to yourself more than him. “I can’t. Not for a whole nation. Not for you. Not for—”
Your voice breaks. And you stop.
Because suddenly it’s too much to keep talking.
Too much to hold together. Your shoulders shake once, small and involuntary, like your body is reacting before your mind can catch up.
You don’t even fully realize you’re crying.
Not at first. It just feels like pressure finally finding a way out.
Zuko doesn’t say anything immediately.
Your fingers tighten against the railing like you’re trying to hold yourself together by force.
“I just need a second—” you start, but your voice betrays you again, cracking right in the middle.
You don’t get to finish.
Zuko moves. No pause. No hesitation.
One second there’s space between you—
the next, his arms are around you.
Firm and certain. He pulls you in close, one hand coming up to the back of your head, pressing you gently against his shoulder before you can turn away, before you can hide, before you can pretend you’re fine.
“I’m fine,” you mumble into his shoulder, voice muffled, unconvincing even to yourself.
“Sure you are,” Zuko says. Flat. Dry. Blatantly sarcastic.
You let out a weak, offended sound against him. “I am—” Your voice wobbles again halfway through the sentence.
Zuko doesn’t even let you finish.
“Mm,” he hums softly, like he’s acknowledging something that is absolutely not true, his tone gentler now despite the sarcasm. “Completely fine.”
You huff, trying to pull back just enough to argue with him, but his hand at the back of your head keeps you right where you are. Not forceful.
“Zuko—”
“Stay,” he murmurs quietly. And something in the way he says it, soft, but certain, makes you stop resisting.
His other hand shifts slightly, coming up to your face. Careful. Slow.
Like he’s giving you time to react.
His thumb brushes along your temple, just lightly at first, tracing small, absentminded circles against your skin. The motion is so gentle it almost distracts you from everything else.
Almost.
“You’re shaking,” he says under his breath.
You didn’t even notice that either.
“I’m not,” you try again, weaker this time.
“Right,” he replies, that same faint, dry edge still there—but softened now, wrapped in something warmer. “That must be my imagination.”
You let out a quiet, frustrated sound, pressing your face further into his shoulder like that might hide the fact that he’s completely right.
Zuko’s thumb keeps moving, slow and steady against your temple. Grounding.
“You don’t have to pretend with me,” he adds, voice lower now. No sarcasm this time. Just honest.
You swallow, your grip on him tightening again despite yourself. “I’m not pretending,” you mutter.
Another pause.
Then, gently: “You are.” Not accusing though.
Your breath catches again. Because yeah.
You are.
Zuko shifts slightly, just enough to tilt his head so his forehead rests lightly against yours when you finally look up, his hand still cupping the side of your face. His thumb brushes just beneath your eye now, catching the dampness there.
“…You’re crying again,” he says quietly.
You blink, like that’s news to you.
“Oh,” you manage, a little dazed. “I—”
You don’t even finish.
Zuko’s expression softens further—if that’s even possible at this point. “There it is,” he murmurs, almost like he’s talking you through it. “You don’t have to hold it back.”
“I’m not trying to—” you start, but your voice breaks again immediately, ruining the attempt.
His thumb traces another slow line along your temple, then back again, unhurried, patient.
“I know,” he says softly. And he does.
That’s the worst part. Or maybe the best.
You let out a shaky breath, your forehead dropping forward until it rests against his again.
“I hate this,” you whisper.
“I know.”
“I feel like I’m failing at something I haven’t even started yet.”
Zuko’s hand stills for a second. Then resumes, just as gentle as before. “You’re not failing,” he says quietly.
“It feels like it.”
“Yeah,” he admits. “It does.”
You glance at him, a little surprised by that.
He doesn’t look away. “But that doesn’t make it true,” he adds.
Your lip trembles again, and you look away this time.
Zuko doesn’t push. He just leans in slightly, pressing a soft, brief kiss to your temple—right where his thumb had been tracing circles moments before.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs against your skin.
Your eyes close without you meaning them to. Your shoulders finally drop, just a little.
“…You’re annoyingly calm,” you mumble weakly.
Zuko huffs the faintest breath of a laugh.
“I’m trying very hard,” he admits.
That pulls the smallest, broken smile out of you. And without thinking, you lean back into him again.
His arms settle around you like they were meant to be there, steady and warm, one hand still resting at your temple, thumb brushing slow, absentminded circles like he’s memorized the motion already.
Then, softer now: “It’s going to be okay,” he murmurs.
You don’t respond right away.
“I mean it,” he continues, a little more certain this time. “We’ll figure it out. I’ll… try to be there more. For the planning. Not just the important parts—the annoying parts too.”
A faint pause.
“I don’t want you doing all of this alone.”
That makes something in your chest shift again, less heavy this time.
“And…” he hesitates slightly, like he’s choosing his words more carefully now, “it’s not all bad.”
You huff quietly against him. “That’s a bold claim.”
Zuko’s thumb pauses for half a second, then resumes its slow tracing. “You’re not just gaining responsibilities,” he says. “You’re gaining… influence. A voice people will actually listen to. You can change things. Help people. Make things better.”
You go quiet, because that part, you hadn’t really let yourself think about.
Zuko shifts slightly, just enough to look at you properly again. “And you won’t lose everything you were before,” he adds. “You’re still you. Just… with more reach.”
There’s a small pause. "…At least I get to wear three outfits.”
Zuko blinks. Once. "What?”
You pull back just enough to look at him, still sniffling a little, but there’s something lighter in your expression now. “The ceremony. There are, like, three outfit changes. That’s something.
Zuko stares at you. “Ah,” he says slowly. “Yes. Of course.”
You nod, very serious now. “It’s important.”
“Clearly,” he replies. Then, suspiciously calm: “You’ll look gorgeous in—” He stops mid-sentence. His eyes narrow just slightly. “…Wait.”
You blink at him.
Zuko tilts his head a fraction, studying you like he’s trying to solve a very confusing problem.
“How is that your number one priority,” he asks slowly, “when I thought the best thing about this was that we’re getting married?”
You stare at him. Deadpan. “Nevermind—"
Zuko doesn’t even let you finish.
“Of course,” he says immediately, completely serious.
You blink.
He keeps holding you, thumb still tracing slow circles at your temple like nothing in the world is more normal than this conversation.
“The outfits are way more important.”
You squint at him. “Excuse me?”
Zuko nods once, very firm. “Yes.”
“…You’re joking.”
His expression doesn’t change. “…I am,” he says.
But the corner of his mouth twitches.
And that’s how you know. You let out a weak, disbelieving laugh that still has a little leftover shakiness in it, and Zuko finally relaxes a fraction more, like hearing that sound did something for him too.
“There it is,” he murmurs quietly.
You lean your forehead against his chest again, this time not collapsing, just… resting.
“Idiot,” you mumble.
“Mm,” he agrees softly. “But I’m your idiot.”
That earns him a small, real smile from you this time. His arm tightens slightly around you, just enough to pull you closer without forcing anything.
The palace, the scrolls, the expectations—everything still exists.
But for a moment, it’s all just… far away noise.
And Zuko’s voice, quieter now, settles above you like something steady. “I’ll make sure it’s not too much,” he says. “The planning. The advisors. All of it.”
A pause.
“And if it is,” he adds, “you tell me. Immediately.”
You hum faintly. “Immediately?”
“Yes.”
You tilt your head slightly to look up at him. “Even if you‘re having a Council meeting?”
Zuko pauses. “…Especially then.”
That makes you laugh properly this time.
And Zuko, still holding you, looks like he’s decided that whatever the world throws at you two next, he’s already where he needs to be.
You’re still tucked against Zuko, the world finally quiet for once. Your breathing has evened out just a little, and for the first time in what feels like hours, your chest doesn’t feel like it’s actively collapsing.
Then—
“AH THERE YOU ARE!!” Sokka’s voice slices through the balcony like a thrown spear.
You freeze.
Zuko… does not. He just closes his eyes for a second. Like a man accepting his fate.
Sokka appears in the doorway with the energy of someone who has been personally wronged by inefficiency.
“Hello!” he continues, marching in like he owns the palace now. “We still have a whole royal wedding to plan?? No time for being lovebirds—”
He stops mid-step.
Finally noticing the situation properly.
You, still in Zuko’s arms.
Sokka squints.
Behind him, the rest of the Gaang is visible in the doorway: Katara immediately putting a hand over her face. Aang looking politely fascinated.
Toph already smirking like she knew this was going to happen.
“Sokka,” Katara says flatly.
Just his name. Nothing else. Pure warning energy.
Sokka ignores it completely. “Right,” he says, pointing between you two like this is a tactical briefing. “Romantic emotional support moment? Very nice. Very important. BUT—we have seating charts, ceremonial banners, three competing traditions, and I have NOT finalized the emergency contingency plan—”
“Sokka,” Katara repeats. Same tone. Now sharper.
You slowly lift your head slightly from Zuko’s shoulder.
Still a little puffy-eyed. Still very done with everything. “…Really?” you say.
Sokka nods vigorously. “Yes! Really! This is a national-level event!”
Zuko finally opens his eyes. Looks at Sokka.
“…It’s our wedding,” he says flatly.
Sokka points at him like that proves his point. “EXACTLY!”
Silence.
Toph snorts. Aang tries very hard not to laugh.
Katara just sighs, long-suffering. “Sokka.”
He turns. “What?”
“You’re taking this more seriously than the two people getting married.”
Sokka pauses. Considers this. Then: “That’s because someone has to.”
You stare at him. Zuko stares at him.
Even the wind feels like it pauses for judgment.
“…I hate that he might be right,” you mumble into Zuko’s shoulder.
Zuko exhales slowly, still holding you.
“I also hate that he might be right,” he agrees.
Sokka points at her. “You can’t even see the situation!”
“I don’t need to see it,” she says. “It’s loud and stupid.”
Aang finally laughs.
Katara pinches the bridge of her nose.
Zuko just tightens his hold on you slightly, like he’s silently choosing peace over violence.
And you bury your face back into his shoulder again. “…I’m never getting married,” you mutter.
Zuko, without missing a beat: “You are.”
Sokka: “YOU ARE AND WE ARE GOING TO PLAN IT PROPERLY—”
“Sokka.” Katara says again in that familiar annoyed tone in her voice with her brother.
Toph: “Sokka is the worst part of this wedding.”
Aang who tries to be peaceful: “I think it’s kind of beautiful how passionate he is?”
Everyone: “No.”
Sokka is still talking when Zuko finally moves.
He adjusts his grip around you slightly, like making sure you’re steady, then gently guides you out of the balcony with him.
“Alright,” Katara says immediately, already stepping in like she’s reclaiming control of reality. “We’re going back to the planning room.”
Aang floats along beside them like he’s just happy everyone is still breathing.
You let out a tired breath against Zuko’s shoulder as you walk. “I hate all of them,” you mumble.
Zuko doesn’t even hesitate. “No, you don’t.”
“…Okay, I hate one of them.”
“No, you don‘t” Zuko says immediately.
“Alright.”
Then, quieter, almost like it slips out before either of you can overthink it—
“…I do feel a bit better,” you admit.
Zuko glances down at you briefly. “I know,” he says simply. And that should’ve been it.
But then his hand finds yours with no hesitation.
Just fingers slipping into yours like it’s the most natural thing in the world. You look down for a second, then back up at him. He doesn’t look back immediately, just keeps walking like it’s normal, like it’s always been like this.
So you squeeze his hand once. Testing it.
He squeezes back immediately.
That does something to your chest.
Something soft. Something annoyingly warm.
As you reach the corridor, Sokka is already mid-sentence again about “optimal ceremonial efficiency.”
Katara is actively ignoring him.
Toph is walking backwards just to make fun of him. Aang is trying to keep peace like it’s his spiritual duty.
And you and Zuko?
You just keep walking.
Hands linked.
Swinging slightly between you as your steps sync without either of you trying.
Forward.
Back.
Forward.
You lean slightly into Zuko’s side as you walk.
Still overwhelmed. Still nervous.
Still absolutely not ready for whatever “Firelady” is supposed to mean.
But his hand is warm around yours.
And for now that is enough.
I hope y‘all liked it. I can write a part 2 of their wedding if anyone‘s down for that. Don‘t forget to support the leaked movie when it actually gets released (for Avatar Studios—the animators, and writers obv)💗
content: firelord!zuko x black!reader, yearning, arranged marriage, miscommunication, married!couple reader has locs
word count: 4.1k
synopsis: ever since you and zuko married things haven't been like you imagined they be. And you yearn to truly connect with him again.
A/N: this came into my head the morning after I watched the movie! please for give me if it's a little ooc I tried to do as much research as possible before hand. I'm currently watching the show to get a better grasp on everyone's backstories and personalities.
I'm currently on S2! It's so good! I can't believe it came out when I was one.
big thanks to @duffymaycry for proofreading!
The sun’s rays marked another day, waking up alone in bed once again in chambers that you now must call home.It had been sixty- one days of the same song and dance :the same amount of time since your wedding.You and Zuko had been married off quite quickly, a political endeavor that would save your people from total annihilation, it seemed like a great idea at first to salvage your tiny kingdom from the blockade that had plagued your people endlessly for centuries.
All you had to do was marry the prince of the strongest empire in the world but to be frank if you knew your days would be filled with constant seclusion from your betrothed, you selfishly would have rejected the offer: if your kingdom wasn’t at the forefront that is.
The people were nothing but delightful to you. They always tried their best to make you feel welcome, asking about your food, clothing and activity preferences, anything to keep you interested day after day they even threw a banquet in your honor but to no avail you still felt the same: hollow. What was the point when the person that you were supposed to share it with wasn’t even there? Wasn't that the point of marriage to spend your days with the person you loved growing your everlasting connection?
Your mind was constantly bursting with these same meddlesome questions even now they tormented you as you lay awake in a bed that felt like it could devour you with its size alone.
Why would you want to spend the rest of their life in a foreign land with people they didn’t recognize?
Why don’t you break it off?
There had to be other ways to save your realm from total damnation without this sinking ship disguised as a marriage of convenience… right?
Was everything he said to your parents a lie just to obtain your hand and along with his title as lord?
Did he even love you?
The last two were the ones that overwhelmed your thoughts the most even if this marriage was solely political. Your parents weren’t going to just hall you off to just anyone they wanted nothing but the best for you.
In the three long months that Zuko was in your family and kingdom's presence he was nothing but what some would consider a gentleman.
Doting on you every chance he got,showering you in gifts,helping the town’s people in the central village, he even took initiative to draw up the details of the alliance himself which benefited your land the most allowing it to prosper in six months time but that wasn’t what primarily drew you to him.
It was the way his eyes sparkled when you talked like he was hanging on to every word you said no matter the topic, giving meaning insight while you talked back and forth. The glances during family dinners made you feel like you were the only two people in the entire world even if your giggles would get the whole table's attention giving away to your antics.
He even agreed to sneak off with you to your place of solitude at night,a gorgeous meadow filled with beautiful flowers by day and a sky full of stars and constellations by night all hidden behind the castle’s trees.
Your heart swelled bigger everyday.
He seemed so carefree, so alive in contrast to now you barely were able to speak a word to each other. Now Zuko was constantly gone, meetings in the morning til dinner but when dinner came around you’d arrive and his plate would already empty Zuko nowhere to be seen forcing you to eat in silence.
And when night felt you were always hopeful that maybe he would be awake so you guys could confide in each other about your days but that hope was slowly shattered by the time your ladies in waiting finished preparing you for bed he would already be asleep.
Every. Single. Time.
You yearned for that version of him: that blissful connection. Would you ever see that Zuko again? or would you be stuck in this unending cycle forever? Your rumination was abruptly silenced by a soft knock echoing through the room,you slowly rising at the sound. The mountain of illustrious pillows sinking in at the sign of your weight comforting you like a cocoon,your locs slowly cascading down your back.
“ My Lady, are you awake? It's time to get ready for the day! Flora your head lady in waiting chimes the door opening a sliver.
“Yes”
The door opens fully revealing Flora,Annette and Hyacinth in their entirety.“Good morning my lady!” they say in unison their smiles meeting the sparkles in their eyes. Your shoulders slump as you sigh “Calling me by my name is fine”
“ Unfortunately we can’t my lady” Flora says swiftly making her way inside over to you
“Why?”
You stand up from the bed, tiredness releasing its claim to your body. Without delay Flora leads you down the hall to your dressing chambers Hyacinth and Annette quickly shadowing behind. Oil lamps illuminate the large room full of jewelry,informal robes,pulling out the stool and sitting you down in front of your vanity as she did
every day. The mirror reflects your appearances back at you: resetting the time loop once again.
“Because we just got word from the council that you and prince Zuko’s coronation will be taking place in four mouths time so we must not only prepare you but ourselves for this monumental transition” her lips curving into a big smile showing her dimples
Removing the silk cloth from your head Flora focuses on gathering your locs letting the room simmer in silence as she twisted them into a neat french twist securing it with a couple discrete pins adding some flair with a golden hair cuff adorned in rubies one of many abundant gifts from Zuko. Your chest tightens to the unspoken and verbal mention of your husband's name.
Straightening up again you make your way to a pedestal with mirrors placed in all directions the Flora steps away leaving the other two ladies to make quick work:Annette replacing your nightgown with a formal crimson robe while Hyacinth applied a berry stain to full lips. It was breathtaking on your brown skin, the robe signaling to you that you’d be meeting with someone important.They leave shortly after leaving you alone.
Flora makes her presents known again with a pair of gold earrings slipping them in your ears “Which means starting today you will meet with the seamstress and designer to discuss your ceremonial robes! Your lips stretch upwards at her words as you bend over to put on your flats a warm feeling starts to fill your chest.This could finally be the moment Zuko needed them too so he had to be there.
“ That sounds great! Will Zuko be meeting with the seamstress and designer alongside us?”
Flora’s eyes soften shaking her head “ No My Lady lord zuko will have his meeting scheduled at another time” Even though You and Flora relationship wasn’t as tight-kit was it could’ve of been she was always there for you when you needed someone,able to see first hand how your current situation was affecting you the tears you shed in private she even saw the mask you put on at the banquet. She even tried contacting Zuko’s advisor but ultimately turned up empty.
“Well we don’t want to keep the seamstress waiting do we? You mutter your expression blank
You surveyed the room as you walked, it was jam-packed with so much equipment, fabric jewelry samples on the round table,racks full of white robes, prototypes maybe? And a big display case of elaborate headdresses. You hadn't seen such beautiful craftsmanship since your wedding day. The one you wore then was vast and hefty; these looked not only smaller but weightless.
Two identical women stood on both sides of the room, backs turned to you,soft blue robes, hair as dark as a crow’s feathers and skin tan as if the sun had kissed them revealing its quiet devotion. They immediately turned to meet you in the middle, bowing in the process.
“ Good day My Lady, it’s an honor to officially meet you!” they say almost simultaneously
“ My name is Miyu” she said timidly
“And I am Misaki”
It was impossible to tell the two women apart visually. They were identical down to the clothes but as you looked closer you promptly found the tell Miyu had a beauty mark under her left eye while Misaki didn’t. “ It’s nice to meet you as well” you bowed as your lips slowly revealed a smile you loved meeting new people it was something you always did back home.
“ Alright let's get started shall we! Flora proposes you could feel her excitement billowing off her in waves
“Yes! Lets” Miyu replied
The white robes are where you started first even though they were made with one shade of fabric you could still see all the illustrious details the lace,beading and the hand sown embroidered patterns each one felt a silent story being told. As you walked down the racks one caught your eye ,chrysanthemums cascading down both sleeves with lace at the bottom,the v-shaped neckline showcased the most delicate bead work you had ever seen. It felt like it was calling to you whispering “I am the one”.
“ what’s the story behind this one?’’As you raised your hand mesmerised by its likeness
“ this design is a lot older than the others our mother made it when she opened her first boutique with her best friend when we were five years marking the occasion the chrysanthemums were her idea symbolizing their long joyous friendship and loyalty to one another” Misaki stated her eyes glossy at the distant memory.
“ that’s a wonderful i’ll do this one “ your lips so tight they start hurting your cheeks
As Miyu takes the robe, setting it on an empty rack close by you all make it towards the fabric sample and jewelry. Jewelry wasn’t your strong suit before marrying Zuko. You never wore such high-quality pieces so frequently, daily even. Back home jewelry like these were saved for milestones like eighteen birthdays,coronations and weddings. You still held on to the earrings your parents gifted you on your birthday and the bangle they gifted you at your wedding. Fire nation nobility seem to wear them to “silently” indicate class and project power. It was the only thing you had to go off of. Your body goes idle as you start to think. Which did you choose?
“The one with the biggest jewels?”
“The biggest one?”
So many questions swam through your mind but were interrupted by Flora's soft voice accompanied by a comforting hand “Choose the ones that speak to you Madam as Fire Lady there will be no need to prove yourself to anyone” her words seeped into you quitting the leftover over baring thoughts.
Shaking your head, you focus back on the jewelry in front of you, picking up a necklace with garnet’s embedded, some hanging from the chain detailing and a big one dangling from the middle.the polished garnet doubling your eyes back to you.handing it to Miyu moving on to the fabrics. “ It’s tradition for the robes to be red and heavy but fortunately with the changing times more materials have become available so if My Lady wishes the robes texture and weight can be modified” Mikyu says
With your eyes closed Your hand slowly passes over the samples using one out of five senses so as to not overwhelm yourself again your hand touches a wax texture it was soft to the touch and felt lightweight.Opening them back your vision unblurs and unveils the silk fabric. “ this one” you say voice confident and unyielding
The sun had taken refuge by the time you finished revealing the moon's bright light. Your stomach grumbled as you and flora made it across the courtyard’s bridge to dinner, hands held tightly in front of as if it would conceal sound.
“ You did well today Madam” Flora says softly as not disturb the warm ambiance
“ I think so too”
Coming up on the dining room doors Flora pulled them open, stepping through the threshold turning your head behind you to speak to her once more but the doors were closed with no Flora in sight. “FLORA” but no answer, your voice traveled back to you in the empty room. That weird flora usually stays in the room to keep me company. Maybe she has other things to attend to?
Walking towards the table you pull out the tall chair and sit down. The chair across the long table was empty as you expected. What you didn’t expect was a vacant spot where your plate should be when you looked down. The utensils lay there strategy placed You could almost visualize the missing plate your mind trying to complete what was now left unfinished.. Are the cooks running off schedule?
the door on the other side opens snapping you out of your staring contest with the table looking up to see Zuko walk through despite his face being blank of emotions, you could tell his jaw was clenched his golden eyes sharp as if he was waiting for a battle to start contrasting the softness he had when calmly sleeping next to you. His long hair swayed as he sat down; he didn’t acknowledge you not a single word; it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
At that moment the servants scurry in with food and wine, placing it in front of you both leaning down until their bodies rested briefly at a 90 degree angle before lifting themselves up and turning to leave the room, not giving you enough time to thank them. It was always this way they leave, never giving you a chance to show them any form of gratitude.
After a while the only sound to break the silence was the clatter of cutlery but your gaze remained on zuko. Is this real!? Was he actually sitting across from you!? You move your left hand over top of your left and squeeze a slight pain bloomed proving that this was indeed not a dream. Your chance was finally here right in front of you. You could finally connect and break the spell of distance between you before you could think your lips opened.
“ How was your meeting” coming out louder than you meant it to
Hearing the flames in the lamps crackle as time passed you reached for your wine glass, swishing the liquid contained inside back and forth before taking a sip letting the berry flavors marinate as you waited for an answer. He glanced up briefly at you, his utensils stopping mid motion “Fine” his voice clipped looking back down to his plate.
He’d never been this curt before. Maybe he just didn’t want to talk about it? Setting down the glass moving on to a lighter topic. “ I met with Mikyu and Misaki today. The robes and jewelry are breathtaking. I can't -“ the creaking of the chair sliding back interrupts you. Zuko stands up straight “ Where are you going?” you swiftly interjecting
“ I have some scrolls to sign off on, I must leave” his voice was just as monotone as before, like he could care less about what you had to say. “Maybe you could stay a while longer” you lightly suggested, a shimmer of disappointment glimmered in your eyes. You had finally gotten a moment together to talk as husband and wife after so long and he wanted to cut it short for diplomacy.
“ I don’t have the time “
“ Maybe that's the problem, Zuko! “ You yell hands slamming on the table knocking over your glass of wine“ You don’t make time for us anymore! Has it even occurred to you it’s been two months we haven’t spoken let alone spent any time together since our wedding not a single word do you even care! Because it’s starting to feel like you don’t “ warmth in your body erupted anger seething out like the brightness flames, staring daggers into him.
But as hot as the flames they were soon snuffed out by the a stinging sensation rapid followed a waterfall tears
“ You have no idea how hard it is to wake up everyday in a bed alone surrounded by walls and people alien to you having to learn a new way of life just so your people can have a chance for a better one! For the carefree, awkward and charming person you fell in love with to vanish only to be replaced with someone you don’t recognize hoping and pleading to the gods that things would change! That the Husband that looked you in the eyes so lovingly and vowed to love and protect you would be there for you! talk to you.
“ But I guess that’s too foolish to wish for..” Your voice disappearing
Quickly whipping your eyes you stalked off not wanting to hear what he had to say, leaving nothing but the echo of your shoes behind.
The water in the bath chamber sloshes as your body moves further down, relaxing your muscles. After your outburst Flora led you here she must have heard everything standing outside waiting for you.the heat in your body rose just thinking about it. Groaning weakly, you place your hands going over your face in embarrassment. According to Flora she had overheard some ladies in waiting talking to the cooks about dinner and hearing Zuko’s name mentioned. She had wanted it to be a surprise hoping that you two could finally reconnect but after how things went down she profusely apologized. Not wanting her to blame herself you dismissed the apology after all she did have your best interest at heart.
Dipping your hands in the water watching as it streamed out of your cupped hands and back into the endless pool of itself. Water was something that had always calmed you but it was doing very little to compose you right now. Sorrow still plagued your mind the longer you thought about it. You had finally got to tell Zuko how you felt but where did you go from here? Do you give him even more space? Resolve it right away? In all honesty you felt lost “ Maybe getting a goodnights rest will help” you say to yourself stepping out of the bath letting your lady in waiting wrap you in the silk robes that seemed to weigh more on your shoulders.
Flora and the others readied you for bed. Locs safely secure under one of your main satin scarves.You walk down the hall to your shared room. Flora had suggested the idea of sleeping in a separate room for the night but you kindly declined wanting to avoid pushing the conflict further. Deciding to face this head on approaching the door you slowly opened it quietly closing it on your way in. The candles in the room silently flicker in a quiet dance with one another reminding you of a slow sway in a dance that reminded you of your coronation day.
Zuko’s laid on his back in bed still his long hair sprawled out some strands obstructing his eyes. His forearm resting over his eyes made him look asleep, but unknownst to you he was spiraling. Walking over to the bed you sit letting it dip ever so slightly under your weight. Looking over you take in his form wanting to say something, but alas you held your tongue. You reveled in the room's silence and waited for sleep to take you but before it could a low voice interrupted.
“ I’m sorry”
Your breath hitched, fingers curling into the silks of the blanket beneath your hands. Opening your eyes, you turned ever so slightly. Zuko was awake, golden eyes locking with yours. Even though you didn’t respond, he continued to speak, something heavy laced within his voice. “ I've been thinking about everything you said and you were right, I've been so caught up in my duties that I've been totally neglecting you and our marriage.” he says as he rises up. You rise alongside him hands now resting elegantly atop of the silks.
“ I've gotten so obsessed with the preparation of changing everything my father built. I started to lose sight of myself and the person who I'm supposed to love and care for. I should've been more attentive toward you.” He clenched his fists tightly against his lap before continuing.
“ I may not know how it feels to leave my home so my people can have a better way of life. I was banished at a young age. I should’ve known the feeling of not being home, having someone to turn to in need of comfort. Instead I put myself deep into diplomatic duties to fix everything my father destroyed. Not knowing how that would have affected you, my wife. For that I truly and deeply apologize for my digressions ” Zuko gently takes your hands in his, bringing them up to rest against his forehead in deep apology.
“ I declare to you, the Zuko you know, love, and chose to stand beside is still here. No, I give you my word that I’m still here. “ Zuko states, placing your hand to rest against his beating heart. It felt warm….sincere. It felt…good. “ From this night forward I promise to be the husband that I vowed to be.” Tears prickle from the sides of your eyes.
“ We may all get lost in our pursuit of work balance Zuko, and we may have not known each other for long, but I’m here for you always. I know I’m the one who normally talks and you listen, but as your wife, and as future Fire Lady. Please come to me, rely on me whatever you need. I'll be here. You don’t have to rule all by yourself.” You say, the hand he had placed upon his chest curling tightly into his robe.
Zuko puts his forehead on yours. Inhaling deeply “ Will you forgive me”
“ Yes I’ll forgive you…under one condition “ a small smile comes across your face.
“ And that is?” His breath tickles your face, eyes serious.
“We must come together three times a week, whether it’s through tea, frolicking through the garden, walking through the village, or even resting here in our chambers. I want us to spend more time together, not as Fire Lord and Fire Lady, but as husband and wife. ”
“ I can do that. I will do that for you, my wife. I’ll even have it put in writing by tomorrow “
A giggle escapes your lips. The thought of Zuko sitting in the council room writing such a request on a divine scroll with such seriousness and dedication plagued your mind. It was a cute thought indeed.
Zuko leans forward ready to push his lips against yours before stopping halfway. “ May I? “ His eyes flicked to yours, his hands now holding yours. “ Yes, my husband. You may “ He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, eagerly pushing his lips against yours in a passionate kiss. Your response being just as passionate as your lips move against his. Heat rose in the apples of your face. It’s truly been a while since you’ve both kissed like this.
Pulling back for some much needed air. Foreheads resting against each others, His calloused hands resting upon your cheeks, as yours rested upon the back of his head, “ Even if you get lost again. I’ll always guide you back to me like the moon does the tide. ” You spoke softly.
“ And I’ll be waiting for the moons ever so bright and effortless light to guide and bring me back to you”
“ I Love You” he declared, pressing a kiss on top of your head before pulling back. His eyes so full of fondness as if he had never left in the first place.
“ And I love you, Zuko ”
“ It’s getting late, You need your rest to put my conditions into writing ” You whisper teasingly.
Sliding under the sheets, you and Zuko move as close as possible to each other. Hands clasping together as you lay your head on top of his chest. You squeeze his hand tightly once more as if afraid he would disappear on you if you didn't. The silence in the room felt warm and comforting as if everything was back how it should be. The loop had shattered. No longer were you stuck in endless distance and loneliness, everything had finally fallen into place upon you.
♡ Sharing my work is the best you can do. consider liking, rebloging and leaving a comment or two I would really appreciated! <3 it helps keep me motivated! ୨୧
༄.° summary two people learning their own hunger for sweet domesticity — palates only soothed by something we can familiarity.
♱ dynamics | blossoming friendship, obvious mutual pining, early crush stages, denial of romance — aang being a sweetheart & naia’s warmth exacerbating their growth.
ೃ࿐ midnight rain, herb scented rooms, double bladed swords
💌scene 6
naia’s home held onto the last of the day’s warmth, above was a sky painting itself warm blue and deep gold dipped in. a horizon undergoing a time where the sun finally hide its face.
a kettle steamed between them, atop a small stone coaster. aang watched the steam thin into the atmosphere.
naia poured into two cups, a habitual behavior — always care for others first.
“in the night, it cools quickly here.” she nudged his cup closer to him, “the wind shifts at night.”
aang nodded, hands wrapping loosely around the wooden mug. “i like it.” he blew onto of the cup, “it’s much quieter.”
the healer hummed in agreement,
settling beside him. her chin propped up on her smooth hand, fingers tracing circles around the skin of her cheek.
“i do not agree. you hear more in the night—waves, birds, thunder, rain.”
he gave her a curious glance, then back out to the water. waves kissing the shore, sand being dragged back to the ocean to sediment at the bottom, a hypnotic motion.
“did you always live here, lotus?” he asked.
the healer bit her inner cheek reflecting on her past here. her father leaving home to join forces with the southern water tribe in the way, particularly aiding in guerrila warfare. the painted look of disappointment when her mother understood her child could not bend — despite being born to two skilled ones.
she adjusted the edge of the tray where her kettle sat, aligning it against the grain of the wood as if it had mattered. “yes..” she sighed, “mostly.”
aang waited.
she noticed his anticipatory expression.
“my parents. they were warriors, now diplomats—important women and men in our society.” her gaze grew nostalgic, “often traveling. i spent most my days under my grandmother’s tutelage.”
“diplomacy?” aang’s brows raised
“trade. negotiations. things that required them far from me.” naia let her hand drop to her side now. the other occupying itself, brushing the length of her nails around the mug’s rim. slowly. absentmindedly.
“so, you stayed here?”
“someone had to.”
she tried to not come off too sharply.
aang’s hand move to rest atop hers, soothingly. dragging his thumb against the back of the healer’s palm. “and what about zulie?”
her face formed a somber look, possibly even soft in knowing how much she’d sacrificed. “i think i was seventeen when they fully stationed in the fire nation. i was more than capable of watching her,” naia stared at his hand, “zulie.. oh, she was very small. she doesn’t like unfamiliar places.”
a breath became trapped inside her lungs. not repulsed by his touch, yet unsettled by its sincerity. “she still doesn’t.” her posture softened.
gusts of wind blew at her curtains from outside, a lingering scent comprised of salts and earth came in.
aang pulled his hand back a little, giving her space without stepping away from the moment.
“you shouldn’t have been raising a child, nai. you were a child too.” he insisted.
naia still felt indifferent to her situation, “it was my obligation.”
she lifted her cup, allowing the tea to go cold.
“i learned quickly, how to manage things.. to keep routine. she wasn’t an infant, i think she would’ve been two.” hoping to justify the situation, she quietly insisted too.
“routine makes things easier to maintain. caring for her made me disciplined.” naia’s tone wavered slightly on the last word.
disciplined.
aang nodded slowly.
“yea.”
he understood more than he had let on.
she peered into her mug, her reflection stares back—unsure. “my mother is a woman who believes in discipline.” deliberately, she continued, “she said to me, ‘no daughter of hers would lack ability.’”
the healer unmistakably smiled, almost reminiscing on the moment. her mother’s blatantly cold tone filled with a fear, a non-bending child who lingered too near to water. water she only understood, manifested.
“i like to believe she meant it as encouragement..” naia didn’t finish her sentence, rather setting her mug down and slouching in her posture.
carefully, aang faced her. his tone soft enough to not break what is already broken, “you were young.” he starts.
naia exhaled. “yes.”
aang shifted in his stance slightly, hoping to appear more approachable. yet, his own heartbeat soared, his eyes hung a little lower—he knew what it was like to disappoint.
“you don’t have to have everything figured out already.”
she shook her head to his words,
eyes glazing over outside’s darkening horizon.
“..things still have to be done.”
alas, she was could’ve been right. because the sun shifted its place in the sky, tides switched pattern with every crash against sand, and the moon changed its face like a mask daily.
she was certain of being right.
aang would not invalidate that. “yea. but that doesn’t mean you should carry this all on your own.”
a tension still hung in the air like clothes on a clothing line, dripping droplets as a catharsis. some lingered on—unable to let go.
wind moved again, creeping through her windows.
naia reached for the kettle, yet neither touched their tea.
she poured more anyway, always the repetitive motions of deep seated care.
“i never dreamed i would hear that.”
aang hadn’t questioned it. it was observable on a blatant scale, annoyingly in your face and bothersome. from the moment he first saw her, he knew.
she wasn’t the only one bracing for pain.
scene 7 💌
aang & sokka busied themselves with familiarizing; small-talking locals, aiding elderly in simple tasks, showing the youth insignificant bending tricks enough to impress, and understanding what rich culture this nation held.
in their moments of break,
they spent it accompanying katara in finding herbs.
had finding herbs been apart of their original plan: stabilizing port cities affected by former occupations installed by the fire nation — well of course not.
sokka toyed with a two-edged ida gigun, its weight being easily shifted across his hands. “you’re doing it again.”
aang narrows his eyes, having been interrupted in his sentence. “doing what?”
sokka points the sword to his friend, “talking like her.”
the avatar peeked over at katara’s pouch of herbs, then averted his attention back. “like who?”
nonchalantly, katara interjected for her older brother. “naia.” her expression became painted with suspicion and an obvious grin.
aang hesitated, “i do?”
“yea. you say things really vaguely, so we can’t tell if you’re upset or not, and every vowel gets all light and stretched.” sokka deadpanned, “totally how you usually talk, though.”
pressing two fingers to his temple, aang sighed. “i talk like myself, sokka. nothing has changed.”
toph interjected, returning from only the spirits know where.
“lie again, twinkle-toes.”
in all truth, aang hadn’t noticed a slight change in his cadence.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
he finally did after returning to naia’s healer’s cove.
a crescent moon hang above, stars twinkled similar to a face full of freckles, and the avatar registered a tiny, minimal change.
“you should rest, lotus.”
he mutters to naia, whose eyes threatened to fall shut as she undid a seam on zulie’s too-small tunic.
it clicked at the speed of light.
he sounded ‘familiar’ to his own self.
naia blinked up, “mm?”
aang contemplated for barely forty seconds, settling on a much safer choice of words. “nothing.”
he pulls her bardot-esque top neatly over her shoulders. “you seem tired.”
scene 8 💌
midnight came faster than a lightning bolt bleeding across an ocean, a shaky rhythm of quiet and sound overcame what appeared to be normal to naia. isolated thunder, muggy clouds, and cold rain.
aang was never a big fan of lightning, he had his reasons. one reason being manifested physically—a disruptive mark in the middle of his tattoo.
naia remained blissfully unaware, labeling jars she worried about. half-focused on her task at hand, moving with a tiny sway in her hips.
it wasn’t until her focus picked up on a soft shift of movement, she turned around cautiously.
aang was sitting on the floor, practically a bookworm. leaned slightly against the wall, knees drawn in, scrolls neatly rolled after hours of reading, and his eyes lidded half-way like he’d been arguing with sleep & losing politely.
naia stepped off her stool, “aang. you must leave before the rain worsens.”
he hadn’t fully registered where he was, “i know..” from the look of it, aang probably thought it had been just shy of sunset. “was going to.”
her lips pursed, kneeling to examine him. there hadn’t been a clear sign—not hurt, nor injured. instead exhaustion throughout his system like a billowing smoke no one could see through.
“you shouldn’t leave,” she said following a lightning strike. “follow me.”
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
naia’s home held a cozy air to it, decorated by clearly a young woman & a younger child who bore much affection for starfish and flowery objects.
a patterned curtain wildly shook in the midnight’s warm air, its pattern slightly distorted. seashells, conchs specifically.
naia slid through a separation of beads — the main hallway which led to her room. her hand dragged aang closely behind, he seemed entranced.
she couldn’t gauge whether it could be several scented candles clouding his mind, or constant visual stimulation from quite literally nothing — naia prided herself in maintaining her paradoxical minimalist-maximalist space.
“..i can sleep on the floor.” he spoke up, easily finding a mat. little did he know she used it for yoga. “it’s fine, really.”
naia’s expression hardly changed. some sort of pattern recognition had bloomed mentally, a recognition she did not like but recognize.
unable to trace where.
“you don’t have to do that, aang.”
aang gestured to her room, “i don’t want to intrude your space.”
naia shifted a few pillows on her bed, soon after plopping another blanket from the closet exactly on one side. “it is also a room — a bedroom.” her voice had been just an octave above whispering.
aang looked as if he had to recalculate his modest rules.
“so?” the air bender questions.
mindlessly scratching a match across its box’s backing to ignite it, she lit a sea moss candle. “bedrooms are for sleeping, avatar.”
he stared at her figure: the relaxation taking place within her shoulders, how she favored one hip more than its counterpart, her curls spilling over her back like weeping willows.
how could she be so calm?
aang admitted, “i don’t want to take your bed, lotus.”
he feigned steadiness, to be the appropriate disciplined monk he was raised to be. yet the only thing raised had been his pulse right now.
she slipped off her sandals, “it is not taking. it is resting.”
her hands pressed on her foot’s arch, soothing what little pain ruminated from being on foot all day. “come rest.”
silence could not fill this moment.
aang looked down to her mat, then up to her bed.
“what if it makes you uncomfortable? i mean, lotus — we’ve been friends for hardly—”
“what makes me more uncomfortable is you not accepting hospitality.”
he cracked a smile to her words, “fair enough, lotus.”
the avatar could not succumb to slumber as easily as intended. a bed like this hadn’t been built for someone of his height — clearly.
he sacrificed his posture, curling inward on his side.
still aware of little details. slow, small breaths coming from the body next to his. sweet-smelling herbs and lit candles to battle light given off by the moon and thunder. creaky wood shifting beneath furnishing.
naia remains awake, unlike aang she is not vigilant. turning her body so that her chest faces his back, her index finger poked his upper arm. “you must stop apologizing for existing here.”
aang’s grey eyes attempt to make out the healer’s face in such dim lighting, turning his head an inch to see her. “i don’t think i am.”
naia pauses.
mustering the softness to say, “you were.”
he doesn’t argue it.
often times he finds out she’s right.
“maybe you’re right, lotus.”
sleep arrives naturally in moonlight’s lulling serenade, naia feels him settle under her mattress’s weight.
here they lie — a man who brought nation’s together and mastered skills like no other, defeated by a healer’s gentle way.
life has this funny way of humbling aang.
scene 9 💌
morning light and dew drops formed a pretty picture outside where hummingbirds sapped up nectar, bees rolled in pollen, and crabs form tiny armies on porches.
aang had not slept very beautifully, waking in one wave he named awareness. the following wave he named regret. finally a wave of realization — sleeping in a position intended for someone approximately half his size.
his neck protested immediately.
above his back’s scar pleaded formal complaint.
he sat up slowly, then too quickly, just accepting his fate for what it was.
because naia’s bed creaked in protest and so did something forming deeply inside.
“oh—” he inhaled rather slowly.
opposite to him was naia blowing out her candle, coils piled high in a puff. “you are too tall for my bed.”
aang nodded, allowing her to state the obvious. “yea.”
he mustered no more words, deciding testing the waters was an appropriate response. standing had been immediately reconsidered, his joints suggesting sounds of betrayal.
naia took a look, covering her mouth which pulled at its corners—oh, she was smiling indeed.
three giggles escaped her; he looked pitiful.
“..what?” aang asked cautiously, leaning on her bed frame.
naia shook her head, still taking in the sight of him like he’s a piece of wobbly furniture pretending to become upright, or a fawn learning its legs were made to walk.
he looks more fawn-like.
“nothing.” she delightfully mumbled, “actually, did we ever finish with your henna?”
aang rubbed the back of his head carefully, soothing his nerves. “i don’t think we did, nai.”
naia titled her head. “perfect.”
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
henna appeared to be much simpler now.
his hands hardly shook inside the grasp of hers, yet her choice of design had changed this time around.
a flower appeared piece by piece atop aang’s skin, looped and delicate but unbreakable in appearance. the image had been contradictory in full, gentle but stark.
each petal formed a picture.
“do you like it?” uncharacteristically, naia took on some variant of bashfulness.
aang observed her ink work, fully dried in absolute glory. presenting itself playfully against his light skin, “it’s beautiful, lotus.”
scene ten 💌
no more did two weeks pass like a thief in the night. stolen hours, interrupted garden sessions, naia’s regular patients even familiarizing themselves with not the avatar’s presence but aang’s.
on the few hours of day he could see her, he’d left something behind — always.
zulie named them as even she noticed.
what could naia do with all of these unreturned items?
a small hook appears on her bedroom wall, never installed before but a neighbor savvy in woodworking and building helped.
aang’s cloak hangs there without proper reasoning.
a small but reserved space appears in a corner.
his things needed somewhere to exist without wandering eyes.
aang notices on certain nights.
tonight he noticed enough to question.
“did you do this?” he chuckled.
naia unfolded her arms, appearing behind him. “you leave many things here.”
he acknowledged it, debated it, and settled with it.
Aang is a puppy that loves his wife very very much
Sorry for any grammatical errors!!
WC: ~507
---------------------
“You’re staring”
You turn your head to see Aang resting his head on his hand and staring at you
“Did I tell you you’re pretty” Aang says
“Yes…you told me when you woke up, you told me when I made breakfast, you told me when I had my bath…yes Aang you have told me so many times”
“You’re pretty…my pretty wife” Aang says grabbing your hand and kissing your hand
“Aang-”
“Pretty…you’re so pretty…I need to tell you more”
-----------------
This had been going on for some days, the lost puppy phenomenon you called it started when Aang had followed you. If you went to your garden to check your flowers, he appeared in five minutes claiming he needed fresh air. If you visited the library, there he was, holding a scroll he had been meaning to read. If you walked into the kitchen for a snack, he was behind you muttering to himself and looking away from your stare leaving the kitchen in 10 minutes.
But you knew he stayed outside the kitchen 3 minutes later.
You had tested your theory once, you got up from the dinner table without a word and walked to your garden when you heard him, the soft pat of his sandals
You turned around to see him standing in the doorway, trying his best not to look like he got caught.
“Fresh air” He says as if he knew you were judging him
“Fresh air? Really?”
“Yeah fresh air” He replied
“It’s raining”
“I like the rain”
“Since when”
“Since…now…I think”
“Aang,were you following me?’
“No!...no I wasn’t” Aang replied the edge of his ears turning pink “I…I was just walking in thisdirection…coincidentally”
“Coincidentally?”
“Yes”
“You do know that the only thing past the garden is the broom closet…right?”
“Of course…I like broom closets”
“And you’re here because?”
“Because…I like the fresh air-”
“Again it’s raining”
“I like the fresh rain air! Very nice”
You giggle standing up and walking to him “Aang…”
“Okay…I was following you…and I know it’s weird-”
“Weird?”
“I’m your husband and I’m following you everywhere like I wouldn’t see you in our bed…but you’re so pretty”
“Aang-” You said before laughing as Aang stared at you with love
“You have a nice laugh…I don’t think I tell you enough”
“You say that everyday”
“I should tell you more” He said, stepping closer to you, placing his hands on your waist “Can I kiss you?”
“You know you don’t have to ask right?”
“I know…can I kiss you”
You giggle, pulling him and kissing him, sighing into his mouth as you wrap your hands around his neck. Aang responds by pushing you by the wall, and carrying you rubbing his hip against yours
“Aang” You said after you two finally pulled away. You stared into his eyes and he makes a groan before pecking your neck “Pretty…so pretty”
He pulled away from your neck and gave you his eyes “Did I tell you that you’re pretty”
aang would be very eager to help you take down your braids.
the first time he sees you do it, he doesn't ask what you're doing. all he asks is if he can help and you nod, smiling as you pass him a comb.
he's very gentle with your hair, takes his time with teasing out any knots and follows your instructions to a tee. if he feels like he's hurting you, he'll stop in a mild panic before you assure him that you're fine, he didn't tug on your curls that hard.
aang wants to know everything about your wash process. he'll watch attentively as you wash your hair with specially made shampoo and conditioner. he'll come to you quickly when you ask him to towel dry your hair, his big hands so tender as he ensures it's as dry as it can be.
"can you teach me how to braid?" he asks softly. "so i can help you next time?"
your heart feels a little too big in your chest, pushing against your ribcage. it hurts, to love this man so much. to see how much he loves you and wants to be involved in all that you do.
༄.° summary in the pursuit of finding healing touch, aang learns to befriend an introspective healer on her own terms.
♱ dynamics | blossoming friendship, unknown mutual pining, early crush stages, denial of romance — aang being a sweetheart.
‿‿‿‿ word count | 4784
ೃ࿐ warnings | no major warnings.
℘ rory’s note ˚˖𓍢ִ🌺. ݁𐙚 i’m elated to post this, eek!! enjoy reading ☺️ NAVIGATION FOR FIC
𝄢 Human Nature, Madonna
ೃ࿐ intervention, shallow coast, deep water.
💌scene 1
harbor city held a weight of faint ocean water and sparkling sunlight on its coasts. fishermen cast their nets, children giggle in their gaggles, and all couldn’t be any better.
that was the coastal nation, untouched.
for thousands of years maintaining relations between bordering nations was no easy feat, the fire nation’s exploits on their artillery, the earth nation using its resources for profitable defense—sand bending worked wonders, who would have known, and the air nomads.. well you never had trouble with them.
harbor city remained the capital, ever unchanged.
flags hung high from balconies facing the sea, some strewn and put up so high the sun beat its rays until they faded a lighter blue.
the people spoke, chatted and clumped. speaking dialects no one could fully agree on, perhaps that was the only takeaway from such a peaceful land.
aang walked slightly ahead of sokka, his hands tucked behind him. he felt like a sore thumb here; his clothes were not made for such humid conditions.
sokka kept glancing at him, then the markets lined across a busy street.
“you’re still limping?” sokka broke the ice, observing aang’s irritated facial expression he barely hid. aang hated being hurt. hated admitting being hurt.
“‘m not.”
“uh-huh. you’re doing that thing again—the stubborn ‘i’m the avatar. i have to make sure everyone around me is okay. i don’t need to be okay. i’m always happy.’ thing.”
aang sighed, wishing in that moment he left his close friend with the others. his grey eyes faintly traced over the horizon.
the water glimmered like little sequins, burning his field of vision for a mere second. the docks were noisy, ropes snapping, men chatting, gulls fighting over scraps.
he shifted his weight again.
sokka clicked his tongue, “we’re gonna see a healer. i heard the coastal people are really hospitable..”
aang hummed, “i don’t need a healer, sokka.”
“you got clipped by my spear last night.”
“it hardly touched me.”
“it touched you in a way that makes you limp, aang. look at you. you’re like a.. pirate, with a peg-leg or somethin’.”
his phrasing made aang pause for a second, like the words stung more superficially than his wound.
he tried to deflect, “its fine. it’ll heal. i’ll heal. let’s just—”
sokka leaned in slightly, eyes focused on an old woman scolding a comically small street dog. “you’re the avatar. not a rock. you don’t just ignore injuries cause you feel like it.”
aang’s expression tightened in the subtle way which meant responsibility hung over his head like a looming cloud, he couldn’t just hold it casually — his leg did in fact hurt.
his face softens easily, smoothing it instinctually. “we don’t have time for that. we’re only down here for a month before we’re moving again, let’s just stick with the original plan.”
“oh, we have time.” the water tribe boy spoke, “you’re just pretending we don’t.”
the avatar opened his mouth in protest, then closed it in defeat.
that’s usually how sokka won arguments.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
a limestone and sand formed cove sat slightly off of the main road, luckily the nearby port seemed much quieter from this point. wind chimes hung from its eave—sea glass and shells clinking off of each other in harmony whenever breeze brushed against them.
above the door, painted in three scripts was a name sokka could hardly decipher or pronounce on the first try.
aang stopped outside it, arms crossed.
“see,” seeming satisfied with himself, sokka spoke. “this is what responsible adults do.”
“you’re not an adult.” aang muttered.
“in spirit i am.” sokka rolled his blue-grey eyes.
aang hadn’t made the effort to answer that, deciding to step inside. inside of the healer’s cove, the air was cold—frigid might’ve been a better word. like a sieve strained out every grain of humidity.
it was quiet. not emptily quiet, but practiced enough to know sokka’s boisterous demeanor would not be welcomed here.
shelves lined every wall, jarred leaves soaked in what appeared to be salt water, folded cloth bundles, stone bowls filled with crushed salts. a low basin of water sat near the center, rippling without any contact.
aang’s eyes caught on that,
water wouldn’t just move in such a manner without bending.
sokka was still rambling on, yet his voice blended into obscurity once the avatar noticed her.
neutral-faced, back to a counter lined with materials, she hadn’t rushed to their aid immediately. her eyes spoke thousands of unsaid words before her mouth opened, she seemed busy.
her focus remained on a torn cloth, sewing it back together absentmindedly, elbow slightly bumping into a ceramic bowl full of crushed, dark herbs.
clearly having stained her fingertips auburn and a colour so morose.
“you are injured?”
there is a honey-rich quality to her voice. not soprano-y, but it holds a brighter tone.
aang hesitated, unintentionally attempting to make himself appear less.. intimidating. his eyes dart between the healer and his friend, “i’m—”
she glanced at his weight distribution, he’s blatantly favoring one leg. “come, sit.”
sokka elbowed him slightly, “told you.”
aang ignored him on principle, still sitting on the wooden bench cushioned by crocheted sheets.
he watched the healer cross over the cove without a sense of urgency—steady and unmoved. she’s seen plenty of broken and bruised bodies, men and women alike seeking her touch.
she sat on a stool, not merciless in her pursuit. dotted bruising became even more tender to the touch under her hands, eyes narrowing in response of aang’s stiffening.
“breathe. i need to assess you.” not looking up, she continued in her tender assault on his leg. aang unintentionally responded faster than intended.
“i’m breathing?”
“you hold in air as if you brace for pain, avatar.”
he paused at the healer’s words, feeling his cheeks become aflush in a reddened colour.
“accurate. he’s a stubborn man.” sokka added, too engrossed in a variety of salts to even glance over.
aang shot him a unfortunate look.
the healer pressed her index and middle finger gently along the injury site, her touch was warm. like a light breeze or early morning rain, grounding in ways which released a constant tension.
he hadn’t meant to bear a heavy load.
“i do not take this to be a new injury.” she muttered.
she tutted, correcting him softly. “no. this appears to be a stress injury, perhaps overexertion. you do not rest much? otherwise, you compensate—” she felt his femoral artery pulsate faster, nerves probably. “here. here—” feeling him wince once more, “and here.”
aang stilled, unsure whether this feeling stemmed from embarrassment or the vulnerability of being seen.
their eyes met.
the healer hadn’t probed him like a subject, or for what title he honored. no, she probed him with little recognition and more assistance.
he titled his head.
spirits, it felt good to be seen as a person.
human to human.
“ignoring pain is wrong. it is human to experience pain.” her hands dipped into a bowl, droplets sticking in a motion similar to sticky sap.
dragging it across his sore spots, she knew he couldn’t produce a viable answer. her words landed cleanly.
outside, wind chimes spoke rather cheerfully. glass swiveling in a click-clack under midday rain.
“water hears pain. swallows it. cries under it.”
she hummed, “you know water better than i do.”
“i can heal better than you do. so, we compromise. i will fix it.”
aang’s tone became softened, “i don’t need to be fixed.”
for the first time, a bit of understanding and mixed pity crossed her features. “bold words. for a man seeking my aid.” her graceful fingers withdrew the droplets, earning a groan from him.
she flicked each droplet back onto the surface of his fair skin, only unfair in its mottled appearance. “you do not have to earn being treated by me.”
laying his head back against the crocheted sheets, he exhaled. not an agonizing breath, just an accepting expression to his state.
sokka, who remained unusually quiet and no longer distracted decided to lean against a nearby wall. like he suddenly remembered he wasn’t the center of the room.
the healer reached for a folded cloth nestled on her lap.
“this part will not hurt.” she said without commanding, merely stating the next part required in this process.
somehow, he felt more inclined to stay.
💌scene 2
clinic’s varied by nation, aang’s heard plenty of stories. some are not as welcoming, some are too technical, some lack the edge of spirituality, and some open their arms wide.
today wasn’t much quieter,
after all, hearing about pirates ‘ambushing’ the coast led to much uproar. only to find out their way of life took on a relatively pacifist nature.
they weren’t pirates, simply men and women mislabeled.
yet, here aang was not mislabeled. all the air held was iron, salt, and sunlight. inside, he was recognized reasonably.
like the floors remember the weight each footstep held.
aang lingered at the doorway for longer than he intended, trying to reason with his return. he hadn’t needed to.
naia—her name—was busy.
sending a group of noisy children on their way, their little hands stuffed with a large basket of medicinal herbs, their excitement to see her.
once they left, she bided her attention to him.
“oh, aang. you’re earlier than i had anticipated.”
she anticipated?
aang scratched his neck, “you thought i was coming back?”
“ah. maybe you were too tired to remember—you mumbled something about returning.”
that made him hesitate.
he stepped partially inside now, leaning up against her cove’s doorway. sunlight dancing across his features from the western side.
no sokka with him. no true excuse other than mumbled promises.
naia’s expression remained ever unchanged.
she studied him an inch differently, perhaps her focus now stuck to his presence. “your leg?”
aang nodded, “it’s feeling better.”
he pauses, unable to continue more. or ever breathe for the matter or the fact under her gaze.
not scrutiny, or even affectionate. it bore into him, prodded at hum—she was looking at him.
“you are not here to return your unremembered promise, nor be treated.” naia hasn’t taken on an accusatory tone, if anything she seemed curious.
aang opened his mouth, unable to feign nonchalance as he closed it immediately. his grey-ish eyes drifted to the same basin before tracing over naia’s face again.
“..i don’t get to stay in places often.” he began quietly.
naia plopped her cloth into her basin, brushing a few coils out of her face. “people usually tell me that when they’re about to leave, aang.”
he wetly laughed, giving an almost apologetic half-shrug. “no—no, i’m not trying to leave right now.”
her attention sharpened, not understanding his purpose here still.
“why are you here then?” naia stepped forward, unbeknownst to her deeply hued skin glimmering a richer colour in direct warm light. her eyes looked a bit less vague, open and wide.
doe-like in a way.
he hesitated more honestly than he wanted to let on.
“i just need to be somewhere for a minute.”
the healer’s cove grew silent yet again. no word in any tongue could be heard uncharacteristically gentle like that.
the avatar himself in all his nomadic glory wanting to settle? how contradictory.
naia moved past him to what lay in wait outside—her garden. beckoning aang to follow, she crouched low, dragging simple fingers through a shallow pond, fish nipping at the tips.
“you come from far away.” she whispered.
aang nodded once.
“people i do know will carry distance like it’s worthy of proving,” naia’s curls formed a halo-like cover, fanning to cover her eyes once she peered down. “or worthy of hiding.”
he stood near, hands tucked into his pockets. “what do you do with it then?”
aang never knew a life without distance.
she looked up to him, softening her demeanor. “we are not afforded the luxury of calling it anything, or labeling it.” she murmured, “we arrive. we keep going.”
aang hadn’t responded, instead choosing to sigh.
in the far distance, a bell rang somewhere along the docks. uneven and cacophonous, like a ship signaling its departure or return—hard to tell which.
he watched her hands guide the pond’s ripple, unlike bending it appeared to be some sort of attunement.
“does it ever get loud.. here?”
“the city?”
“everything.”
naia paused her motion, “yes. but i learned to live with sound.”
aang crouched low despite his injury, hand dipping in almost ceremonially. he traced a similar path to her own.
the healer peered into the sun, eyelashes guarding her pupils from hurt. “loud things usually indicate a sound unable to be heard,” she lowered herself, sitting now. “i chose to make it audible in people. it is what i do—i heal, i fix.”
she straightened her hands alongside the skirt’s pale azure fabric, “sit, aang. i wish to continue speaking.”
he did not protest.
scene 3 💌
naia was supposed to be organizing and labeling tens of hundreds of jars.
but aang had asked a question—a small one, pertaining to plants drying near a stained glass window & the healer had answered before deciding whether it was even worthy of one.
“that one is salt leaf.” naia’s voice surged, taking on a brighter inflection. pointing to mineral matter creating a soil level at the bottom of its jar, “it grows near tidal soil, i use it for inflammation, the inflammation varies based on its cause—it also contains iodine levels too high.. so the effects can be adverse—and..”
she bit her tongue.
covering her visage with her stained hands, considerably a moment too late to hide former excitement. “and it holds moisture in a way that makes it useful for burns. but you must dry it properly—the acidity creates bitterness and loss of effect. i store this in the higher shelves to prevent structure change.”
she uncovered her face, blinking slowly.
sudden realization rushed her immediately again, seeing how aang appeared to take well to a practically unnecessary lesson.
“..i spoke too much.”
aang remained focused on the plant and naia, arguably taking it in serious measure. he hadn’t found her extensive knowledge embarrassing by any means.
“you didn’t.”
he gestures to her salt lead jar, “i didn’t know any of that until you said something.”
naia’s shoulders lost the tightness in them, imperceptibly but her nervous system gladly appreciated it. she weakly smiled, “most do not ask.”
aang nodded like it made sense, not like it was surprising.
“naia, i was curious.”
the weight of his words brought a heavier feeling. prompting naia to look away from her jars for a second too long, only to resume. retreating into an action safer, tangible.
“it is not important for you to know anyway.” her voice hushed into stillness.
aang tilted his head slightly,
leaning firmly into the counter. “it seemed important to you.”
that feeling again.
undoing.
like an endless rope realizing its loop shall end unexpectedly soon.
she mentally reevaluated without realization, “i.. i like when things are understood correctly.” her admission remained quiet, as if the townspeople could hear.
aang found himself touched by her statement. he couldn’t tell whether it be the contrast of her focus to her tone.
“and that makes sense.” he validated in agreement.
the healer exhaled, reaching up above to push her small container of salt leaf in a respective position. high, canopied above other jarred necessities.
adding another afterthought of hers. “also, it is not just salt leaf. there are—i think three variants depending on the coastal exposure and the southern strain is harder to cultivate. but for long term use, i assume healing would prevail anyways as long as the roots mineral intake is..”
her expression narrowed, looking into her reflection of a tin jar. “oh, spirits. i’m doing it again. am i not?”
aang poked a small potted plant, “a little.”
naia hesitated, “are you sure it is not too much?”
he bit his tongue, not wanting to discourage her further. after all, he’d become accustomed to her voice. enjoying not only the presence but her mannerisms—her knowledge—her innate ability.
so, aang shook his head once. “i’m sure.”
he looped his finger around the gardenia’s stem with a pillow-soft voice. “it’s nice.”
naia faced her back to him, sliding a few more jars back into respective spots organized by their needs as well as other variables.
sounds of shuffling jars filled the clinic, so did aang’s light breaths. her henna stained hands wiped against numerous cloths, trying to not disrupt any balance — some jars had open lids.
aang hadn’t moved an inch, she noticed.
then turned, reaching for something on a nearby table.
a small bowl.
dark paste inside,
portions tubed for use.
“..hold your hand out.”
she set the bowl between them on the counter, almost symbolic in its purpose.
“it will not hurt.” naia reassured.
aang nodded, he knew henna tattooing to an extent. “you can do it.”
that made her glance up from the bowl, noting it with a tiny smile.
“okay.” simply accepting without ceremony.
her right hand held a tubing holding a plentiful amount of liquid ready to adorn bodies, her left hand’s fingers dipped themselves into the earthy mixture.
a faintly herbal scent, warmth like humidity creating a tentative aroma. aang observed her hands in their precise movements.
he always did that with her.
zeroing in on everything but the bigger picture—her hands, her eyes, her endless coils kissing her lower back.
hands told him more intimate things than words.
“i am going to draw a simple symbol.” her words lightly soak in his mind, “air nomad markings. simplified.”
aang’s brows drew together, “you know them?”
naia hummed, “only a few. i have seen some in old scrolls.”
she reached for his larger hand, he gave it to her immediately.
too immediately if anything.
his fingers were not as calloused as she had anticipated, subtly tensing themselves beneath her fingers beneath the healer’s touch. he hadn’t pulled away, though he held on in hopes stillness could mask the fear of interruption.
fear he existed too loudly within it.
naia’s tube lightly traced the symbol, carefully.
slow, precise.
almost too slow.
halfway through the curve, she felt his hand twitch. a tremor, enough to deshape a symbol by mere centimeters.
she slowed her movements, noticing aang awkwardly froze too.
“sorry,” he apologized rather quickly, “i’m not—i didn’t mean to—”
“do not apologize.” she gently reinforced, attempting to mask the error by looping it into another letter. then another. naia did not continue further, withdrawing her hand slowly.
still holding his larger hand to look upon her unfinished marks.
naia held much tighter now, “you’re very tense.”
aang had exhaled, not aware of how much he held inside. enough to wrap tightly around him, wound up into a lamentable physical manifestation — shaky hands. “yea.”
he appeared embarrassed in ways not surface level.
“we can try again,” he said, softer. “i just, i just don’t know why my hand’s doing that.”
the healer shook her head, unwilling to allow unwanted feelings to surface again. “we do not have to finish it right now.”
once aang looked up from his hands, she was already reaching for a cloth.
treating the situation as one requiring a sympathetic approach to his elevated nerves, easily settling back into the role of outputting care.
she gently wiped the henna from his skin before it could set fully, before its design could begin to form.
“we can do it later,” naia showed no urgency,
“whenever you are ready, aang.”
she continued to cleanse him of any pigment, dabbing a cream to prevent any possible irritation in response to the removal.
scene 4 💌
sokka noticed a child in the cove almost immediately,
unsettled by the sight.
very carefully he chose his words, unsure whether to break the peace. “uh. there’s a kid here.”
naia looked up from her work immediately, a specialized salve. finally granted the ability to focus her attention in a different direction. “she’s sleeping.”
and the child was.
curled up on a low cushion behind the counter, half-hidden beneath a folded cloth blanket that looked like it had been pulled over her more than placed. a small bunny plush rested in her arms like it was part of her breathing pattern.
her face slightly pushed into the bunny, lashes thinly resting against her cheeks. she couldn’t have been older than six.
the rest of the group shifted their attention (aang brought them along, awfully optimistic to introduce them), katara immediately brightened without a word.
aang rose a brow.
sokka lowered his voice, “you have a kid?”
unamused, toph rolled her eyes. “if naia is twenty, how could she have a child who’s like six. think, idiot.”
naia crouched to kiss zulie’s forehead, “toph is right. this is my younger sister, zulie.”
toph tilted her head slightly, “how long has she been under there?”
pausing to think, naia assumed at least an hour. zulie was a stealthy child when she wanted to be. “an hour, hopefully. she likes to read constellations despite my pleas for her to be in bed by sundown.”
that earned a communal hum from the group, partially understanding and partially curiosity.
aang stepped a bit closer, then stopped himself from getting too near.
“reading constellations?”
naia glanced at him, “yes.” she spoke simply, “we’ve done it since she was three. i was more lenient then.”
sokka frowned, not finding observing skies or their billions of stars the most interesting conquest. although he once had an affinity for the moon, “you’re serious?”
naia nodded.
earning another collective look from aang’s friends.
her gaze drifted briefly to her younger sister, clearly dreaming about whimsical things. “she likes naming them on her own now. she’s not fond of sleep, she worries the sky changes too quickly without her.”
katara gushed, “that’s adorable.”
“sorta. it is the process of getting her to sleep during her theories that is not adorable,” naia shared a smile with the other healer.
aang had been tinkering around with a bowl of fresh salts, scented with oils. now curious, a warmth settling behind his eyes. “what kind of theories?”
“last night, she believed the moon had followed her because it had grew bored with the ocean.”
sokka turned slowly to face the healer, “that sounds.. insane.”
naia hummed, “she’s five.” mildly unconcerned about her sister’s imaginative theories for everything.
“she’s got good ambition for a five year old.” toph mumbled, very deadpan.
zulie shifted in her sleep, tightening the plush closer to her chest. naia eventually sat near her, adjusting zulie’s crocheted blanket to optimize her warmth.
katara picked up on the details, “does she always sleep here?”
“no, only on the nights where i am still busy. or she’ll stay up with me.” soon after speaking, the healer joined her sister on the floor, pulling her close.
the water tribe warrior prodded yet again, “how efficient is that?” sigh, sokka and his questions.
“it’s functional.” naia mutters, “i never win in getting her to rest.”
aang’s lips curled upward faintly before he could stop himself.
not at zulie.
at her.
because there it was again—something he was learning about naia: she didn’t frame her life as anything more than it was. constant simplicity and routine — he admired it.
noticing naia’s fatigue addled frame, katara lowered her voice. “you should probably sleep too.”
naia blinked once, then glanced toward zulie.
“…no, it is fine. i enjoy your company.”
again.
simple.
routine.
aang looked between them a moment longer.
“we can leave,” he said quietly. “she’s resting. you need your rest too, nai.”
giving him an unforgiving look, sokka groaned. he himself enjoyed hanging at the cove, “oh, c’mon.. we just got here.”
aang didn’t look away. “yea, let’s go.”
toph ventured towards the entrance; now exit. “we can come back later, sokka. in the morning.”
the warrior groaned but followed.
a tiny smile mercilessly tugged at naia’s face.
just barely.
aang lingered last, clearly not ready himself to leave.
he looked to zulie again, her smaller frame curled protectively into naia’s. even if naia’s back faced aang, she could envision his sincere gaze.
“she’s like you,” he mumbled.
“no,” she replied after a moment, slumber almost taking her over already. “she’s louder. you should see her behavior when she is awake.”
“i meant… the way she trusts things. she trusts you so naturally.” aang clarified.
the healer had to have been crossing over to dreamworld now, no longer coherent enough to answer.
promoting aang to move quickly, not wanting to intrude. firstly pulling the crocheted fabric over their bodies more, secondly blowing out naia’s incense, and thirdly leaving as quietly as possible.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
the morning should have started very calmly.
except,
zulie woke up.
she sat up slowly, still clutching her bunny to her chest, curls flattened on one side alongside a copious amount of frizz — indifferent to not wearing her sewn bonnet.
her bug eyes took a moment to focus, taking in each piece of the cove.
then she saw aang, a familiar face and very tall man.
she stared.
aang froze mid-motion.
zulie tilted her head.
“…you’re back.”
zulie had faint memory of sneaking into the cove from her bedroom, slipping near a counter while naia had guests.
aang blinked. “yea?”
that satisfied her for about two seconds.
then she looked at naia.
then back at aang.
then nodded, coming to several five year old formed conclusions.
“hm.. hm.. okay!”
her older sister shifted slightly. “zulie—”
“he is your boyfriend,” zulie announced.
aang choked on absolutely nothing.
naia closed her eyes briefly,
sucking in a deep breath and begging her ancestors for patience when it came down to this child.
“…no,” she reinforced gently.
zulie hugged her bunny tighter. “he keeps coming back, though! the other day you did henna on him—i saw. i’m not stupid! i want to do henna but you said nooo because i ate it and i’m really sorry—so i deserve henna! and.. and..”
“lili, he is a patient and my.. friend,” naia corrected.
zulie considered that, still unconvinced.
“but boyfriends come back!” she decided.
aang raised both hands slightly. “i’m not—”
he stopped. because there he himself hadn’t known what to say.
naia looked at him unsurely herself, realizing this had morphed into a quiet, shared moment of a conversation either of us are prepared for. as there was nothing to truly acknowledge.
they were friends.
zulie nodded to herself, satisfied by her observations.
“he is nice. you are nice too naia—well, only when you let me jump on your bed. but he is nice!” she giggled.
then, very firmly zulie had came to the wisest conclusion in her very flawed philosophy.
“you should keep him.”
scene five 💌
“come.”
her garden was a symphony of herbs. medicinal purposes mostly, some could serve as seasonings in meals — but here they were. in the midst of years worth of creation.
“i have no green thumb, though. do not be fooled.”
aang let out a tender laugh,
naia in all her introverted glory could be quite silly.
and sarcastic.
“i’d say you have quite the green thumb, nai.” she’d gained the nickname from the avatar days ago, it stuck briefly yet he insisted on finding one more interpersonal.
something between them and them only.
she had implemented a few lotuses into her pond,
aang recalls it well.
there were no returning patients or those to see for the afternoon, so he’d been sent out on a task for her. find pale pink lotuses.
pale, pink, delicate to the touch, and did he mention pink?
naia went into specifics,
explaining how the contrast of her coastal garden would not be interrupted by wilting lotuses needing constant tending to and fresh water.
she’s very much liked to experiment, arguably fond of it. making her own blends of herbs such as lemon grass and mint, or attempting to cultivate life from imported seedlings.
in this however, no caveat could defeat her mission of pretty lotuses. something easy on the eyes.
“you picked such fine choices, they bask and hone tiny frogs now. i never knew frogs to be so excited.” naia spoke wistfully, almost sentimental over flowers. quite unlike her reserved demeanor, but here an overflow of what she keeps hidden could show.
“thank you, aang.” naia appeared to be the spitting image of someone very, very sanguine.
“you’re welcome, lotus.”
lotus was something between them and them only.
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