Prove That You Love Me
For @atlararepairmonth Week 1 Prompt: Flirting with danger
Notes: Saw someone else make a fic for this pair and decided to give it a go.
Summary: When Azula say “go”, Jiang asks “how far?” When Jiang says “jump”, Azula asks “from what height?”
She stands upon the cliff’s edge, looking out over the churning water. Off to the left…a thundering waterfall with birds to circle it. She takes a breath, one deep one that gets caught in her throat as she looks down at the waterhole below. And the birds’ flight becomes dizzying. Vines and ivy droop down from the cliff, reaching for the pool, unconcerned with the going ons above them.
“Go on. Prove that you love me.”
It has become their mantra.
A defining part of whatever relationship they have.
Jiang says it again. “Go on. Prove that you love me.”
Azula exhales and so does the land, a gust of wind rustles her clothes and whips her hair. It isn’t such a long way down…or so she tries to tell herself. She doesn’t know how this will prove that she loves Jiang.Granted, she doesn’t know how walking over hot coals was supposed to prove that Jiang loves her. But they both do it. Over and over again. When Azula say “go”, Jiang asks “how far?”
When Jiang says “jump”, Azula asks “from what height?”
About 12 meters, she comes to find is the answer.
She exhales again and has a look over her shoulder, back at Jiang who stands with her arms crossed and a perfectly devious smile on her face. “Go ahead. You’re not scared, are you, princess?”
Azula crinkles her nose and Jiang laughs. She faces the other woman as she takes a step back. She’ll take the plunge but that doesn’t mean that she has to face her fate, although it would be the more respectable, honorable approach. She supposes that old habits and long standing traditions have a respectable pull because she finds herself looking towards the drop. Better, she decides, to actually see what she is doing.
“You better hope I don’t survive this.” Azula comments dryly as her toes reach the cliff’s edge. “Because you will have a lot to prove to me if I do.” They are as good as parting words as any. And with them she throws her arms back and then forward. Her feet leave the cliff and her body sails. Her heart leaps and her stomach drops faster than the rest of her. She isn’t a dreadful swimmer, she can do it if she must, but she is by no means a strong swimmer. What if she doesn’t resurface? What if she lands too close to the waterfall? What if she lands on a craggy boulder? Will Jiang regret having made her do this or will she just be another dead lover? How many lovers of hers have died proving their love—she had mentioned three lost lovers but never spoke of the manner of death.
These are the things that occur to Azula as she plummets.
Just a little too late she thinks to add a little fire to break her fall.
And then there is cold.
She hadn’t held her position as straight and stiff as she ought to have to complete a graceful arc—a controlled slice through the surface. So when her body strikes the water, it strikes her back. A solid slap to the face, chest, belly, and legs. She thinks of her Katara, of how it had felt to be slapped away by the water.
This is worse.
Oh, Agni, it’s worse.
The water closes in around her and she sinks deeper. The roar of the waterfall fills her ears and steals away some of her precious rational thinking skills. Summounting panic threatens to take the rest of it.
She had gone down head first, she reminds herself. And then she had flattened, midfall. She had landed on her stomach; she just needs to…
She lets her legs dip down and her head tilt up. She thinks that she is vertical now. Her stomach flutters at the possibility of actually having put herself facing the bottom of the waterhole instead of towards the surface. She is so terribly disoriented but she kicks her legs anyways. As hard as she can. Until she can feel her muscles burn as viciously as her lungs.
And just when she doesn't think that she will resurface before she runs out of air…
Arms.
They hook under her shoulders and she is drifting upwards much faster.
And then she is on the surface, on the bank of the river with pebbles and mud on her thighs and bloodied knees and hair plastered to her cheeks and forehead, breathing heavily and staring up at the waterfall and the shifting canopy as the wind rattles it. She exhales with the breeze and closes her eyes. The sunlight falls upon her face, warms it. The adrenaline leaves her and the fatigue settles in.
“I told you that you could trust me.” Jiang says. She cracks an eye open and gazes upon that trademark smug, mischievous smirk. “I’ll save you from anything.”
“Did you…? Did you jump too?” She has the energy for only something just above a whisper.
“I jumped too, princess.” She replies. “And I’d do it again! Cliffdiving is a hobby.”
“It’s a dreadful one.” Azula murmurs, rolling onto her side. Sand and mud kiss her downturned cheek. Jiang kisses her upturned cheek. Azula ought to shove her away, shove her right back into the waterhole.
“Do you trust me now?”
Truth be told she doesn’t know how to answer that.
Truth be told, she trusts the woman more and less all at once.
“I guess.” She says.
Maybe now they can stop with their mantra.
Maybe now she’ll never have to hear or say, “go on, prove that you love me” ever again.
